2 -An Adventure Starts Here

Rolen



After the explosion the girl fled from Rolens grasp. Instead of rushing away from the blaze she actually ran towards it. And Rolen, utterly bewildered, ran after her plump behind.

Only after he ran past one of the larger tents did Rolen see why his prize had fled from him.

Laying on the ground was a corpse. The proportions of the body was undeniably that of a child. The child's clothes had been reduced to nothing, not that there was anything left to conceal. The child's flesh had been reduced to blackened charcoal. The child's muscles, the very cartilage that should have held his tiny form together, had been incinerated, leaving the corpse in pieces. The child's face was largely unrecognisable, only the top half, the eyes and brow and the top of his little head remained.

Rolen knelt down beside the boy, his eyes swelling with tears. In his eyes he saw a very different child.

Rolen went to hold corpse, he almost succeeded in wrapping his arms around it before a woman stopped him.

She had been kneeling there the whole time and Rolen didn't even know, the girl (Rolens prize) cradled the older woman and in that moment Rolen was snapped back to the present.

Rolen realised that his prize hadn't fled from him but to her family, and that it was her mother and brother before Rolen now.

"I vow to you," Rolen proclaimed in a deep and visceral voice, "I will find the one who did this."

He didn't make eye contact with the mother or her daughter, he looked into the child's dead eyes one last time, then he got up and he walked away.

As Rolen walked, he gave the remains of the destroyed caravan a glance. There, as far as he could tell, was no sign of an explosive device or alchemical residue. This left magic, or more accurately fire evocation magic.

Over the course of a rather precarious life, Rolen had come across magic but had never practiced it. Rolen new that there were a number of creatures who could naturally use fire magic, elementals and fiends being prime examples.

Still, he recalled intruders at the edge of the camp.



Namfimble



Namfimble, still seated in the caravan, stared at the little boy and his twisted face.

Namfimble dropped his mechanical contraption. His right hand went to his scroll while his left hand went to his wooden staff.

The child, no, the creature closed the flap that served as the opening to the caravan.

The entire caravan trembled and the light from the overhanging lantern flickered menacingly. "Give me the scroll," the twisted from of a child commanded.

Namfimble wiggled off of the bench, still clutching both scroll and staff. When his feet finally hit the floor, Namfimble assumed a stance that put his staff between himself and this monster.

It grimaced at Namfimble, before lunging at him. In a single bound, it was on top of him. While in midair, the creature sprouted large featherless wings bringing both wings down to smack Namfimble from both sides.

The wallop winded and disoriented Namfimble long enough for the creature to wrap its claws around the scroll, pry it from Namfimbles' hands and launch itself into the air.

By the time Namfimble had gathered himself, the creature and torn through the tarp or the caravan and out into the night sky.

While it was still in sight, Namfimble raised his staff and started his incantation.

Unfortunately, the creature saw this coming and had already started its own.

The monster hauled a ball of red hot fire down at the caravan, engulfing it in flames and causing a roaring explosion.

In the midst of that explosion Namfimble released his own spell, a thin pale blue ray burst forth from the top of Namfimbles staff. The ray pierced the ball of flames and dampened the force of the explosion considerably. Despite this, the caravan still caught on fire, and the force of the explosion was still more the strong enough to throw Namfimble of his feet and out of the caravan altogether.

The gnome rolled to his side, spitting out blood and, using his staff, pulled himself up. The effort strained every muscle in his body and his face was red from the exertion. And yet, like a man possessed, Namfimble paid his condition no mind.

Even while half deaf, the gnome scanned the skies for the creature that stole his scroll only to see a little boy running for the woods at the edge of the camp.

Namfimble gave chase.



San



San stood before a tattered little thing as he nearly collapsed. Thankfully both she and Captain Regis was there to catch him. All the while third man, the one she had assumed was the boys father merely stared out into the dreadfully dark woods and the blood stains on the ground.

"My son..." The man said defeated.

San responded by barking orders at the man, "get me towels and water." This seemed to shock him enough to send him running, Sans' could only guess whether or not he'd come back with anything useful but at least now he wouldn't do something stupid.

San, still holding the little creature, hurried towards the fireplace. She nodded at her pack and Regis quickly found a blanket. San set the little thing down and started by removing the majority of his clothes, while maintaining dignity as best she could.

From the looks of things he had numerous burns that Regis did his best to clean and bandage, his medicinal training left much to be desired but he was still far more experienced then San. After propping up the little thing and giving it a sip of water, Namfimble introduced himself and thanked both San and Regis.

"The explosion, and the runaway child, what do you know?" San began as she unpacked her chain mail and started to undress.

Namfimble gave Regis a panicked glance and Regis shrugged, apparently used to Sans' open nature. With a gulp, Namfimble pressed on, "that child..." he began, "isn't a child. It caused the explosion and stole..." Namfimble seemed to chew on his words for a moment, "something very important to me," then Namfimble started to grow anxious, "I employ you to help me retrieve it, please."

"No need we-" Regis began before he was hushed by a stern look from San.

San regarded the gnome for a moment, "tell me why its so important and maybe I'll help." She said.

Namfimble seemed to stew over his words, then he started, "I can't tell you what it is, sorry, but if you won't help I'll jus-"

"I don't want to know what it is Mr Garrick-Sah," San barked at him, the little thing squealed, San couldn't help but wonder he something so timid managed to brave the outdoors, then she remembered the way he ran and the red burns that scared him. As far as Sans' was concerned, this little thing was surprisingly formidable.

In either case she continued to press him, "just tell me why."

Namfimble sat up and gave San a grim look. "The scroll," Namfimble began, "in the wrong hands, could bring the end of everything you know and love."

For a moment everyone was silent. Regis looked back and forth between the two demi-humans while Namfimble waited for a response.

At this stage, San had not stopped putting on her chain mail and fastening it into place. "Right then," Sans' beamed, smiling for the first time, "we better get it back. Regis, I want you here to keep everyone calm, Mr Garrick-Sah, we better keep your secret between three of us, and perhaps we'll"

She had already started marching off before finishing her sentence, and both men rushed after her.

Between the two of them, Regis was forced to stay back while San allowed Namfimble to return to the scene of the crime at the edge of the camp.

San regards the blood spattered over the ground before looking at Namfimbles' face to see his reaction. To her surprise he kept his composure.

"Can you derive anything from this?" San asked, now looking out into the woods.

Namfimble started shaking his head, raised his staff, he spoke another incantation. San looked at the little thing, alarmed by his alien words, for a moment, all was silent, and then Namfimbles staff seemed to exhale a green mist.

This green mist gathered together into a palpable mass that floated in the air and slowly became increasingly solid, until it started to look like a translucent shell with something inside.

A beak poked out from inside the mass while two glossy winds pushed out and stretched the green translucent shell. A large brown bird tore its way out of the green mass and started flapping its wings as it kept itself in the air.

The brown bird turned its head so that one of its bulbous eyes faced Namfimble. San stepped back from gnome and his strange bird as they wordlessly stared at each other for an uncomfortable moment. With that, the brown bird circled the scene and then parched itself on a broken branch that started a trial deeper into the woods.

“I know that they went that way.” Namfimble offered.