As they exited the tent, Malcolm could tell there was going to be a large group of people due the sound of chattering voices. Once outside, Malcolm guesstimated that most of the freed slaves were gathered in front of him. As soon as they saw his face, an eruption of applause occurred.

"Let's us all formally thank, Malcolm the human, for our freedom!" Someone called out from the crowd.

The cheers grew louder. Most looked overjoyed and relieved to finally be free, though a few had pained blank expressions on their faces. He had no doubt that they mourned for their lost loved ones and the indignities of being enslaved. But there were a select few who still looked on edge, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Malcolm frantically made a calming gesture with his hands to hush the crowd, he was never comfortable being the center of attention.

"Please, please. I didn't do anything special, I'm sure any of you would have done the same." He shouted over the cheers.

"Not true." Saria placed a warm hand on his shoulder. She looked to the crowd and the cheers subsided. "This young man is new to our lands and has no ties to any of us, yet he acted selfishly and courageously in the battle of our freedom. And for that I, Saria Aedorin of the White Coven, thank you deeply." She then bowed to him.

There were some gasps and mumbles in the crowd when she said her name and that only increased when she said White Coven. Her name must've carried serious weight because once she bowed, so did most of the crowd.

Malcolm was at a total loss for words. But thankfully he didn't have to say much. After Saria's words, the ex-captives began to move about. No doubt getting ready to return home or to whatever was left.

He watched as they began to shift about, going through the orc tents in search of provisions and valuable loot. His heart twisted as he saw a small boy dig through a pile of dead orcs, then let out a whoop as he pried a plain silver ring off a swollen finger.

Giving into his growing conscience, Malcolm went to the families who were about to depart and handed them handfuls of gold and silver coins to help them on their travels. Some tried to refuse, but Malcolm insisted and made sure that they all got their fair share. Though there were a few sullen faced people who were even more hesitant to take the stack of coins offered to them, cautious to what Malcolm would ask in return.

Ignoring their uneasy stares, he went about searching for better gear for himself. Thanks to Saria, he was able to identify the cloak and the war hammer that was in the chest, and the magic ring he'd found on Barolo.

The cloak that he had pulled from the chest glimmered mutely in the sunlight, the dark blue of the scale like material it was made from shone like the calm ocean waves.

You have found: Cloak of The Mist-born! Info: This enchanted cloak was weaved by a tribe of nomadic water nymphs. Said to be crafted from the whiskers and scales of a fantastic water serpent. It's malleable scale like material makes it incredibly comfortable and light but surprisingly provides effective defense. Effects: 15% resistance to Water and Ice. Armor: 30. Weight: 10. Value: 100 Gold.

Restrictions: Can only be worn by Humans or Elves.

You have found: Ring of Life! Info: This magically enchanted ring will grant you extra health upon wearing it. Effects: +20 Health. Weight: 0.3

Malcolm slipped the ring onto his finger with zeal and marveled as his health points jumped up just a bit. it was only an extra twenty health points, but having extra health was always beneficial.

You have found: Tedea's Hammer! Info: A once favorite weapon to the Goddess of the oceans and winter. She blessed this weapon with the North winds' essence! Ability: Ice Smite, this ability blasts your foe with a chilling gust of wind and causes significant ice damage! Needs time to charge after use. Damage: 25 (+15 Ice Damage). Weight: 15.5. Value: 350 Gold. Restrictions: This weapon requires you to have over 15 points in Strength and 10 points in Endurance.

You do not meet the requirements and won't be able to wield this weapon or use its ability!

Malcolm swore to himself. He knew he should have waited before setting all his attribute points, but he was so excited at the time. His strength was currently at twelve and his endurance was only at eight, so he'd have to wait until his next level up to use the war hammer.

Or I can just sell it. He thought to himself. He had been quite generous handing out coins to the leaving ex-captives and barely had 300 gold left. Thankfully, he still had all the precious gems.

With a frown, he placed the hammer back into his bag of holding. Malcolm tugged the cloak on and instantly sighed in relief as coolness emitted from the cloak met his sun burnt skin.

Since he couldn't wield the hammer, he made his way over to the already ransacked weapons hut. Most of the racks were emptied, and what weapons that were still on racks looked rusted and in terrible condition.

"Not going to find any suitable weapons here, friend." Darion walked over to him. The elf was now in a full set of chestnut brown leather armor with a matching half helmet. "Here," He unclipped a curved sword from his belt and held it out to Malcolm. "it's not the best weapon, but it's sharp enough."

Malcolm looked down at the blade, then quickly shook of his head. "No, it's fine. I'll find something."

"I insist." Darion kept his hand stretched out. "Besides," He gestured with his other hand at the longbow strapped to his back. "I'm not much of a swordsman. Take the blade, I'll be fine. There's also a decent scrap of armor in the third tent to the left, I'll show you."

Malcolm nodded thanks and took the long-curved blade, turning it in his hands to examine the sharp edge.

You have received: Steel Scimitar. Info: A curved steel blade. Damage: 15. Weight: 10. Value: 2 Gold.

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It was a plain weapon, but the soft leather grip felt comfortable in his hands. Malcolm took the sheath from Darion and tied it to his belt, tugging on it to make sure it was secure. Together they went to the tent with Darion's little sister, Milly, tagging close behind them.

You have found: Rough Leather Chest plate. Info: Decent Medium Armor. Was once finely made but is now in a rough condition. Armor: 40. Weight: 6. Value: 25 Gold.

You have found: Leather Greaves. Info: Comfortable fitting greaves. Armor: 20. Weight: 5. Value: 10 Gold.

You have found: Simple Leather Boots. Info: They are simple leather boots. Armor: 8. Weight: 2. Value: 5 Gold.

Well, maybe I don't need to read every prompt. The boots weren't a perfect fit, but they stayed on his feet well enough. He was just thankful to have some protection from the scorching hot desert sands.

"So, I'm guessing you are leaving as well?" Darion inquired.

"Yes, it doesn't seem a clever idea to linger here for much longer." Malcolm replied. He wasn't quite sure if he should tell anyone of Lorne's suggestion to head south.

"And where exactly are you headed?" Saria strutted up to them, she now wielded what looked like an oak staff. "Not to Goulcrest I hope, that place is a cesspool of slavers and unlawful scum. Most of the others are headed to Azmar's Bay, if you are headed that way, I'd like to accompany you."

Darion nodded. "As will I. You gave me freedom, I feel somewhat honor bound to offer my aid to you."

"M-me too!" Milly chirped. Her wide brown eyes full of something they were dormant of for far too long. Hope.

Malcolm awed in the sincerity in Darion's voice, the elf truly wore his emotions on his sleeve. As did his little sister.

"I'm sorry, but I'm not actually headed to Azmar's Bay." Malcolm shook his head. "But thank you for the offer."

"Then where are you heading?" Saria said softly, but Malcolm could see the sharpness in her eyes. "I'm sure wherever you may be going, having a skilled healer in your group would be most beneficial."

"Well, I-"

"And Milly and I don't really have a home to return to..." Darion cut in. "The orcs, they burnt down everything and slaughtered all who weren't good enough to be slaves... I fear we might be the last of our tribe. I'd gladly welcome a distraction, friend."

Malcolm looked them both over and scratched his head in thought. Lorne had told him to head south, but she never said anything about not bringing anyone else with him. Having a skilled archer and a healer would be helpful, who knew what else he'd run into out in the desert.

"Fine, but I don't have a true destination. Just a... feeling." Malcolm said bobbing his head side to side.

"A feeling?" Darion arched an eyebrow.

Sighing, Malcolm pulled out his map and pointed at the dot indicating the location of the abandoned mine. "I have to go here, I think."

"You think?" Now it was Saria's turn to arch an eyebrow. "Enough riddles boy, what are you trying to say."

"It's going to sound crazy, but I had a... vision? Yea, a vision. I was told to head south."

"Told by who?" Saria questioned, her sharp eyes cutting into him.

"By a woman..."

"What did this woman look like?"

Malcolm bit the inside of his lip. He knew it wouldn't sound too good to say that he was told to head south by a tingling in his gut. He couldn't see that going over well, but then again that may deter them from wanting to accompany him. Truthfully, he really wasn't comfortable with having them tag along with him.

"Lorne." Malcolm said quietly.

"Who?!" Both Saria and Darion snapped causing Milly to yip in shock at the sudden outburst.

"Lady Lorne came to me. Apparently, she's a goddess or something. She told me to head south, said I'd find sanctuary there. See, maybe it's not such a great idea for you to accompany me. Plus, it might be too dangerous for Milly."

"The Death Queen herself visited you!?" Darion looked askance at Malcolm. "Are you jesting? It's not smart to use a Gods' name in a lie, friend."

"I wish I was lying." Malcolm said as he pinched the spot between his brows.

"We'll see about that," Saria muttered. Then a series of hushed whispers escaped her lips and her eyes began to shine a shade of purple that made Malcolm feel uneasy. "A spell of Truth Sight. Medium tier magic. Now, tell us about your vision. If you lie, I will see it."

With an exasperated breath, Malcolm rushed through a telling of what happened to him while time was frozen and his conversation with Lorne. Retelling the story was more for his benefit that theirs, he really hadn't taken time to go through all the events that were occurring around him.

After the tale was over, Darion looked to Saria. With a deep nod she confided that Malcolm was speaking the truth.

"The Goddess of this domain has taken notice of you and even gave you aide..." Saria voice trailed off as her eyes went distant. "Who are you?"

Malcolm clenched his jaw.

"I'm not from around here... I come from a place called Earth." Malcolm rolled his eyes when he saw the deep confusion on their faces. "Listen, it's a lot to go through and we don't have much time for me to tell my entire life story."

"Fine, that'll have to do for now, but I do hope you'll tell me more of this 'Earth' while we travel." Saria straightened herself and muttered some words that made the glow in her eyes dissipate.

"As we travel? Saria, I'm not sure where exactly I'm going. It could be dangerous..." Malcolm began to argue.

"All of Pangea is dangerous, friend." Darion spoke up. "You have been quested by a Goddess to find sanctuary, this is a pilgrimage. I didn't take you for a fool, but you'd be one if you think I won't be joining you in this historical endeavor. Hells, I would be surprised if most of the people still wondering about the camp wouldn't also want to join!"

After more argument, Malcolm finally came to terms that they both wouldn't back down from joining him. Then further to his annoyance, as they were trying to leave, an ex-captive spotted them and inquired on where they were headed.

To which Darion replied before Malcolm could cook up a lie. "We have been set on a quest by the Goddess of this domain, to head south is to find sanctuary-ACK!"

Malcolm elbowed the loud-mouthed elf in the gut, but the damage had already been done. Flocks of people crowded them and asked questions to whether it was true, to which Saria swore upon her name that it was. Again, Malcolm awed at the weight her name carried as people took her words in like a starving infant on a teat.

Suddenly his tagalongs went from three to over a hundred people.

Before anything else, they all went about collecting the dead and having a proper funeral for them. Except for the orcs, those were left out to rot and become crow feed. Saria said a hushed prayer over the bodies as they were set aflame. Tears brimmed in Malcolm's eyes as he watched Milly cry out for her older sister, though Darion stood like a stone as he stared into the flames.

They pulled the cages off two slave carts, loaded them with food, water jugs, and other goods. There was enough room for passengers, to which Malcolm ensured that the elderly and children had seats. An ex captive by the name of Berlung, a redheaded and awfully hairy dwarf, brought a couple of beasts to pull the carts.

The beasts looked like a strange mixture of animals. They had the body of an ostrich but were twice the size. Their heads were crocodilian with floppy yet scaly ears, and they had small T-rex like arms that seemed to fidgety scratch its chin and chest.

"Muc'Raks." Berlung provided at Malcolm's stare. "The ideal animal for Desert terrain, they don't need much water and have powerful legs. But they are as dumb as rocks." The dwarf chuckled as he harnessed the clucking animal to each cart, then looked to Malcolm patiently. "So," He tugged at his beard. "Where are we headed?"

Malcolm looked to the crowd, Saria sat at the front of the second cart with Darion at her side with reins in his hands. Milly sat between them, her small smile beaming at him. Feeling the tug within himself, Malcolm thrusted his finger in front of him.

"South, to sanctuary!"