Will was a writer he had no place running around with an elf, a dwarf and a mushroom. Yes, a mushroom. He had been minding his own business, writing in his journal of a traveling wiskerbell, a character he made up, and enjoying the warm sun on his routine walk around the Bragspine woods, he had grown up loving the tall trees, they always gave him inspiration. He was so happy with his new creation and was in the midst of a small celebration when these buffoons charged out of the woods and proclaimed that in order to save the world he would have to come with them.

The dwarf swept him off his feet and hurled him over his head. Will in shock just sputtered and screamed, he desperately clutched his notebook. The group began running. The elf, well she was beautiful by all means. Tall, graceful appearance and a set of beautiful robes matched with a dark stained leather vest. But that didn’t nearly make up for her constant need to poke fun at (Names) clothes, his face, or his characters. She immediately rolled her eyes upon seeing him.

“Seriously Groff, you’re picking this idiot? He’s dressed worse than a commoner!” She flicked her raven hair and gave Will a withering stare, all the while running breakneck speed. Groff only laughed, being the one carrying Will he assumed that this dwarf was the reason why he was in this mess. An arrow flew over their heads. The dwarf had a gambeson that seemed a size too small for his rounding belly, red beard and short scraggly hair. His stubby legs pounding into the earth.

“Lighten up Griff! He seems like he could be useful!” The mushroom piped up. It was large for a mushroom, but it looked like the plainest fungus Will had ever seen. It was brown, with a lighter shade of brown as a stem, two black dots were staring straight ahead. It had tiny legs that were rapidly oscillating desperately trying to keep pace with the other two.

“Yeah, I think four eyes could help, so he can help us!” Groff, who had been carrying Will over his head as if he was no lighter than a twig, suddenly lowered Will before launching him into the air. An arrow flew right where his head had been. He squealed as he went flying, hitting his head on a branch and falling back down, only to be caught again by the dwarf. How the hell was this happening? Will fought the urge to vomit. A large ball of panic was working its way up his throat. This couldn’t be real. This just couldn’t be real.

“Look at him! He has no style, and he definitely has no brawn!” Griff ducked as another arrow whizzed over her head, a man’s loud curse following close behind. Will turned only to see a dark shadowy figure and a small four-legged creature bounding after them. “We needed a front liner not another weakling to act as cannon fodder!” She turned and flipped off whoever was chasing them

This was not how his day was supposed to go. As if on que a growl and a yell sounded behind the group. Will blanched, “Cannon fodder?” His head was spinning, and a trickle of blood dripped onto his clothes. How dare she call him cannon fodder, actually, how the hell did she know what a cannon was?

The mushroom stared blankly at Will it seemingly nodded its head, it squeaked, “Griff! You’re gonna scare him! Can’t you keep your mouth shut for once!” The forest they had been running in was thinning, the trees gave way to a field a few moments later. The field was a luscious green, yellow and red flowers dotted the area. A moment that Will would have loved to draw. A beam of sunlight shone right on his face, His panic subsided as he captured the image.

It all came crashing back as the dwarf nearly dropped him. “Why does he have that creepy grin on his face?” Griff asked, she gave him a disgusted look, “Groff you’ve picked a simpleton”

Whatever was chasing the group had finally fallen off. A string of curses followed them for a while longer before dying out completely. They ran for a short time longer. Will was still being hauled by the dwarf. The mushroom and the elf continued to yell at one another. Will didn’t care, he was too busy picturing that image. He quickly thought where he would place this in his world, until reality came crashing down once more. The dwarf had thrown him to the dirt.

He stuttered, “Why, how, who are you people!” Will jumped to his feet, only to promptly fall back over, his vison spinning once more.

There were moments pause before the elf sprang into action. She did a once over, checking the area for any dangers. They had stopped in the middle of a field. A strong aroma of sweet flowers surrounded them. A scattering of bushes and thin trees was protruding from deep green grass. Will was itching to draw the scene, for some reason everything about this group made him think about one of his old books.

The elf bent over looking at the ground. She was pointedly ignoring him. He turned to the mushroom; two black unblinking eyes were staring back at him. There was no movement or indication it was listening. Or even heard him for that matter. Mushroom people were not common but Will had met a few in Fish Baked Inn. It seemed they all lacked facial expressions. He had tried to have a drunken conversation with one once, only for it to respond with a blast of spore and a polite message to sod off. He had tried to explain he only wanted to learn about them, but he only got a blank stare in response. He made a mental note to ask the mushroom about that later. He finally turned to the dwarf.

The dwarf was bent over double heaving in lungs full of air. He spat unceremoniously on the ground. Not only did these brigands kidnap him, now they pretended that he doesn’t even exist? He felt rage boil up, he was minding his own god damned business, he should be the one ignoring them!

Will tried to get to his feet once more, again falling into a heap in the dirt. He looked up and glared at the strangers. “Now listen here you brutes, you’re going to tell me what the hell is going on!” The dwarf briefly glanced up before stretching to his full height of roughly four ft.

“Hmm, he is a bit whiney for a front liner” Groff grave his arms a little swing, and spat once more, “but I’m sure he will be just fine” Just fine Will thought, just fine? He had been flung around, probably causing some mental distress and had shadowy creatures chase him, how could that ever be considered just fine?

“Just fine!” Griff scowled, flinging her arms in the air “He wouldn’t survive one day, one day out here!” For an elf she really did have a mean streak. The mushroom finally stopped staring at Will it turned to the elf. “He survived that encounter did he not?” Its squeaking voice didn’t appear to come from any hole Will could see. 

“Only because Groff wanted to run instead of fight!” Griff angerly threw a knife into a tree. A knife that Will had no idea she had. “And he has definitely spoiled himself” The mushroom stared at the knife.

“I have not!” Will angrily retorted. He had crawled to a nearby tree and was working his way up. The violent urge to vomit coming over him again. The dwarf waved his hands in frustration. “Well next time you scream,” Groff put on a mock high pitch voice, “ we need a front liner,” He scowled down at the ground, “ don’t expect me to help!” Groff did a few turns before stopping and turning to stare straight at Will. “Can ya fight?” All notes of anger left the dwarf’s features. A thin bead of sweat trickled down (names) face.

“In god’s name why would I know how to fight?” Will said. He attempted to right his clothes and brush the dirt from his face, he brought his hand back. only to find blood and muck. He angrily shoved the hand towards the group, “Look what you did! No, I don’t know how to fight, I’m a novelist not some sword swinging brute!”

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Griff only scoffed again and rolled her eyes. She was evidently not impressed. “A writer? So, you are useless then?” She walked over to the tree and ripped her knife out of it.

Groff looked somewhat disappointed, “Well that’s a shame, we need a front liner” He sighed and kicked some dirt for no apparent reason. “A writer hmm,” He reached down and grabbed a stick. The wind had picked up. Causing the grass to flicker. The mushrooms stirred. It bent over to grab sticks and made a small pile.

“Yes,” Will said, “I write stories and draw pictures, and I would very much like to know why I was picked up by you lot” The elf started playing with the tip of her knife, still scowling she looked up and said, “Because Groff, the genius, thought that when I screamed we need a front liner that he should go pick up the nearest idiot,” She suddenly flung the knife at Groff. It shot past his ear, clipping it and causing a sharp breath of pain to erupt from the dwarf.

“Ow, that was not necessary Griff,” He grumbled and put a bit of cloth to his ear before setting back to work. “I was only tryna help” He brushed some leaves and dirt away, making a small clearing. He pulled a small shovel out of nowhere and started to dig a hole.

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean you pick up the nearest stranger now does it?” Griff angrily stalked into the shrubbery looking for her knife. The mushroom had stopped gathering sticks. It had settled near the hole looking blankly at their surroundings. It seemed to decide something and stopped moving all together. Small roots stretched from its body. They spiralled and circled down towards the earth, making thin lines, almost like veins. They only stopped when they had reached the earth, connecting the mushroom to the dirt. It squeaked, “I’m sick of hearing your voices, wake me up for dinner, Griff stop throwing your bloody knives!” Griff snorted from the bushes. The mushrooms head shook once before its eyes seemingly disappeared into its head. That’s a neat trick Will thought, asleep in seconds would be a power he would give a lot for right now.

“Well, we couldn’t afford a real front liner now could we, and he is better than nothin” The dwarf stacked the sticks. He put down a pouch. He reached in and pulled a small red rod. It was about a finger in length and glowing with a red tint. The dwarf then chucked the rod into the sticks. All the while muttering under his breath, something about no good elves was all Will could make out.

“I heard that!” Griff angrily retorted from the bush. Will all the while was speechless. These people were insane.

He was about to say as much, when a fire roared into being. It was the same deep red as the rod had been. It was as if a fire had been crackling away for hours. The dwarf sighed in satisfaction and raised his hands. He then proceeded to reach into his bag once more and produce a kettle and a tripod. He opened the kettle and set the tripod up. How the hell had he produced such large items from a pouch? Will thought. He was again, speechless, he had heard stories of bags that stored hundreds of items but had never seen one before. It was the stuff of legends, no one really believe they existed.

“Did you use a whole tinder stick on that?” Griff had come back from her hunt, knife back in hand. She had a bedroll and blanket in the other arm. It seemed she also possessed the same kind of bag as the dwarf. The dwarf looked up at her, a guilty expression on his face. “No-” He winced as the elf once more exploded.

“Gosh damn it you orange haired monkey, how many times have I told you not to waste our supplies we are not made of money!” She walked around next to the mushroom and laid her roll down. She turned and scowled at the dwarf, “tell me when supper is ready, I need to take a walk.” She lowered the knife and walked away, grumbling all the while, “no knife throwing, what a stupid rule” Will had no clue what had transpired. He was still staring blankly at the fire, which was still merely crackling away.

The dwarf turned and spoke to Will not realising that he had shocked him to the core “Don’ mind her, she had a rough day” He then opened his magic bag and pulled out a water skin, varying vegetables and some herbs. He then pulled out a small bowl and added water to it.

“Come here, let me clean that up for ya” He pulled a piece of cloth and dabbed it into the water. Will gulped, he had come to the conclusion that, one these people were crazy and two, these people were very dangerous.

“I think I would prefer to stay here” Will nervously rung his hands. He briefly shot a glance away from the fire. The sun was falling, he had no idea how to get back to the road but maybe if he made a break for it, he could still make his way home.

It would be dark in an hour, he tried to smile at the dwarf. A sickly expression was all he could muster. He could probably outrun him, but that elf, she was out there, and her knife throwing was utterly terrifying. Will had never been in a fight, not really, sure some kids used to give him a hard time, but he was never in any real danger.

“Thinking about running?” The dwarf asked, he was still holding the bowl, his other hand, holding out the piece of cloth. “Don’t worry, if we were going to kill you it would have been long ago.” He sighed and put down the cloth.

“How do I know you’re not just saying that to get my trust? Not only that but how am I,” he gestured to himself, trying to display the ridiculousness of the situation, “supposed to help you save the world?” Will shot another glance at the dark. Groff laughed, “listen kid, if you went out there now you would get lost immediately, then you would run into that pack of wolves or into the other creatures who rule the night or any other manner of magical creature.” Will gulped hard. There were always rumours of such things out here, but he was a scholar not someone who believed in every rumour that was passed around. Of course, he knew that the gates would always be closed by now and priests would start their rounds, but he had always assumed that was for control over the town, something to keep people in line or such.

“And as for saving the world? I only told ya that so ya wouldn’t whine so much. All I know is a pixie told us that a wondering stranger would help us get where we needed ta go.” The dwarf shrugged a little, before stating, “And I just got a feeling that yer were that person.”

He looked again at the bowl. He guessed it made sense, as all the stories always said, pixies were known to give random and sometimes not very helpful advice. They have no reason to harm him, he was nothing to them, useless in fact. He shuffled over, like a scared animal he timidly grabbed the bowl and cloth from the dwarf and sat down a little closer to the fire. Why would a pixie even send them that message? He had never met a pixie. They stayed far away from settlements and were hunted in many cultures. He had once read that a pixie’s magic could turn your luck and lead you to a mountain of wealth. He made another mental note to ask about that later.

“Great, I didn’t want to have to force ya” The dwarf set back to his previous task. He began pealing and cutting vegetables. He filled the kettle and put it over the fire to boil. Will watched his every move. He had lost most of his anger and now all that was left was fear. He looked down at the bowl of water. It had a line running around the rim. He felt a tug, almost a pull towards them. He reached out and touched the inscription with his finger.

“It’s a healing inscription. Pretty basic stuff, but it will heal that cut of yers.” Will looked up sharply, did he say healing? Was this a magic bowl? He then looked back down at the thing. He had always wanted to see a magic item.

“This is a magic bowl?” Will asked excitedly, “how does it work?” He brought the bowl closer to his nose, he could make out fine runes etched into its surface. The dwarf gruffed, a snort escaping his mouth. “It’s hardly magic but yeah, it’s just a simple line of runes nothing too fancy”

“Nothing too fancy?” Will stared at the thing in awe. He quickly dabbed the cloth to his face, feeling a quick sting of pain. He rubbed and washed all the dirt. For some reason the bowl only took water back, the muck and blood disappeared as he washed the cloth. He started to feel a warmth enter his wound. It lasted a few minutes and then faded away. He ran his hand over the area. He found nothing. It had completely vanished. He quickly grabbed his notebook and began jotting down everything that had happened, his fear and concern fading. A wild grin erupted onto his face. He drew on everything he had experienced. It was right out of one of his stories. He meticulously wrote down everything. He then rapidly began drawing the scene he had captured. Noting every flower, the smell of the air, the wind and the feeling of the light on his face. His smile widened as he pictured the fire stick, sketching it in all its glory. Something in him stirred, awakening something that he had been chasing his entire life, ever since he had first heard the story of magical beasts and tales. He had finally found it, he had found magic.