Wooden wheels rumble upon the dirt packed road that leads to Emberwood Village. A pair of vultures circle the overcast skies above. A humble caravan of a single wagon is led by Eren Marlowe, a lean man in his mid forties with shoulder-length brown hair under a leather cap. He wears a slightly shabby woolen traveler’s jacket and well-worn slacks. Chatty yet professional and with an opinion about everything, the man seems to enjoy having company on the road as much as he enjoys having the extra protection of his hired guard.

“Drakkenheim, eh? What god-forsaken business brings you to that dark city?” He rubs at the scruff of his beard. “I’m only in this for Emberwood myself. The village Flamekeeper puts coin in my pocket so long as I keep supplies in hers. Fortune-seekers, mercenaries, prospectors. The old priestess has her flock to feed and I have mine. Six little ones back home. Every one of them’s as stubborn as their mother. Maybe that’s why I spend so much time on the road. What about you? Have any family? Looking to start one?”

"I have family scattered about here and there. Although there aren't as many of us as there were before." Maxwell Vanovar - or Joseph Mouzone as he had introduced himself to Eren - said in response to the merchant's words, fingers drumming along the longbow that rested across his lap as he spoke. "I might add to its numbers myself one day, but that day has yet to arrive. As for why I have made the journey to Drakkenheim..."

Maxwell paused a moment then, reached down to the backpack sitting at his feet, pulled a mask from its confines, and began to glare at it vengefully. "I'm on the trail of a pagan assassin. Brother Terminus they call him." Maxwell said. "A few years ago, he killed my twin brother and took his rapier and longbow as trophies. And to heap insult upon injury, he also stole one of the psybird eggs we were tending to, hatched it, and raised it as his own."

Maxwell cast his gaze skyward, looking up at Many Colors flying overhead and watching for trouble. After a moment, he looked back at Eren and showed him the mask. "Should you ever encounter a human with deathly pale skin and blood red eyes, or a hooded figure with a mask like this one, be wary of him." Maxwell said. "Especially if he has weapons and a psybird companion similar to mine."

The story Maxwell had just spun to explain why he was bound for Drakkenheim was mostly a lie to conceal his true intentions and to place a degree of separation between himself and his grim dealings. Maxwell never had a twin brother, and Brother Terminus was actually just the alias he took up whenever he donned his vestments and went about business that the law wouldn't approve of.

“On the road toward vengeance then, eh? I see. I see. I’d say it’s a just cause, if not a bit foolhardy. If your quarry is headed into the ruins there’s a fair chance that fate will solve your quest before you get the chance. But who am I to argue? If you plan to do any prospecting while you're there you should let me introduce you to Armin Gainsbury. He runs a a supply company for adventurers like yourself out of Emberwood and can likely offer you some good advice." The caravan driver takes a breath. "You know I had a brother myself once. Not a twin, mind you, but we were thick as thieves back in the day…” Eren Marlowe can talk, and talk he does for two long weeks.

Eventually the countryside turns dreary and desaturated. You pass many abandoned villages with dilapidated homes, crumbling farmsteads with sallow empty fields, and forests of dead trees. Thorny brambles and harsh scrub grass are all that grow along the mudslick road. Drizzling rain fills most days, and the wind howls at night. Aside from the creaking wagon wheels, you only hear the calling of crows.

The draft horses huff as Eren’s incessant voice drones on. Overhead, Many Colors cries out into the overcast sky. In your mind’s eye, an image flashes of three men with crossbows lying in wait on either side of the road up ahead. An old farmstead looms in the near distance behind them.

"Stop the wagon." Maxwell quietly insisted to Eren as the image came through. "Ambush up ahead. Three men with crossbows. If they haven't seen us yet, I should be able to take them by surprise."

Eren slows the draft horses at once and lowers his voice. "Ambush? What are you going to do?"

Maxwell drew an arrow from his quiver and nocked it to the string of his longbow as he sent an image of Many Colors perched on his shoulder back along his telepathic connection to the psybird. "I imagine three less bandits on the road would be a net positive for everyone." Maxwell said as Many Colors landed on his shoulder. "...Well, maybe not for the bandits. But they should have thought of that before they became bandits." With that said, Maxwell alighted from the wagon and, to Eren's eyes, vanished from sight entirely. Though there was very little in the way of cover between the wagon and the bandits, Maxwell's training and expertise in the ways of stealth meant that such problems were barely an inconvenience for him. Especially when his skills were paired with the helpful psychic talents that Many Colors possessed.

You creep up upon the group on bandits. Two dirty and haggard looking men lie in wait to the right of the road. The third man lies with his back to the farmstead which is perhaps thirty yards away. He signals something to the others, gesturing in the direction you just came. None seem aware of your presence.

To the right of the road, one of the two bandits lying in wait there felt something small land on his back. A moment later, he began screaming in agony as Many Colors psychically forced every old wound across the man's body to violently re-open at the same time. As the bandit lying next to the psybird's unfortunate victim looked on in horror, an arrow shot over his prone form and sped towards his compatriot lying on the other side of the road. The arrow found its mark right between the bandit's eyes and the bandit went still. Were the last bandit to turn to face the source of the arrow, he would see Maxwell advancing on him while moving his longbow to his off hand and drawing his rapier.

The last bandit flipped to his back, bringing his crossbow up to bear as he did. Roaring in fear or fury, he fired the weapon at Maxwell. The bolt sped the rogue and missed by a lot. The bandit snarled, getting to his feet. "Bastard!"

Maxwell watched the bolt fly past him as Many Colors landed on his shoulder once more, the psybird psychically sending him images of all the best angles of approach for a killing stroke on this final target. "I may have been born out of wedlock..." Maxwell said as he closed the last of the distance and drove his rapier through the bandit's heart. "...But at least I know who my father is." With that said, Maxwell withdrew his blade and watched the last man fall. Once he was sure the man was dead, Maxwell shook the blood from his weapon with two swift swings, sheathed his sword, had Many Colors fly off to inform Eren that the coast was clear, and then set about looting the weapons, armor, and valuables from the three fresh corpses.

You find each corpse is equipped with a dagger and light crossbow. The lone bandit also had a single potion of healing.

By the time you finish going through the dirty pockets, Eren and his draft horses are approaching. The other man's wide eyes scan the bloodied bodies littering the road. "Oi! I see you know how to handle yourself. I take back what I said about the ruins. Maybe you'll last longer than the average dreg who goes snooping around." Eren glances toward the farmstead in the distance. "Reckon we ought to take a look? Might be a good spot to call it for the night. You know, assuming you don't think they have any friends what might come looking for them?"

"Oi! I see you know how to handle yourself." Eren said when he arrived on the scene. "I take back what I said about the ruins. Maybe you'll last longer than the average dreg who goes snooping around."

"I'm happy to have secured your vote of confidence." Maxwell said as he placed the looted equipment into an empty spot on the wagon and slipped the healing potion into his backpack.

"Reckon we ought to take a look?" Eren asked while looking towards the farmhouse "Might be a good spot to call it for the night. You know, assuming you don't think they have any friends what might come looking for them?"

"I'll have my friend check for danger." Maxwell said before sending an impulse through his telepathic link to the psybird. A moment later, Many Colors rose into the sky and began to look over the farmhouse and the surrounding area for any indication that someone or something else might trouble the caravan if it stopped to rest here.

Many Colors circles overhead. You follow his graceful movements before a feeling of security washes over you. The psybird calls out before returning to roost on your shoulder. You feel the sharp points of his talons pierce through the fabric of your overcoat.

Behind you, Eren clears his throat. "That there friend of yours is a fine bit of livestock. Pray tell, how did you come by such a magnificent creature?"

Maxwell tensed slightly for a moment when Eren referred to Many Colors as a bit of livestock. The half-elf didn't think the merchant meant any offense by it though, especially when Eren went on to describe the psybird as magnificent, so Maxwell relaxed after a moment.

"In ancient times, my family was blessed with a unique breed of psybird by the Old Gods as a reward for faithful service." Maxwell explained as he reached into his backpack and pulled out one of his ration packs. "Members of my family may be gifted eggs to care for if a mother psybird of this special breed deems them worthy."

The half-elf selected a few pieces of dried fruit from the ration pack and then stowed it back into the backpack. "When tended to properly in the egg and raised well after hatching, a steadfast companionship is forged between the psybird and its carer." Maxwell reached up to his shoulder and began feeding the dried fruit to Many Colors.

"A companionship that has served many of my family well. On top of possessing the usual dagger-sharp beak and hypnotic plumage of a regular psybird, those born of this breed have the potential to manifest psychic abilities similar to spells cast by a druid or cleric. So far, mine is capable of saving people from death, psychically aiding people in their tasks, healing wounds, causing wounds that have previously healed to violently re-open, and bringing a cloud of fog into being through sheer force of will."

Once Many Colors was done eating, Maxwell gestured towards the farmhouse. "The building and surrounding area have been deemed secure." Maxwell mentioned to Eren. "We should be safe to rest here."

Eren leans back on the seat of the wagon, his lips forming into a circle. He reaches up to rub at the scruff of his beard. "The old gods you say? Hmm." You seem to have rendered the man quiet for once. His gaze wanders over the bodies of the fallen bandits, then returns to you, appraising as if for the first time. Overhead the clouds begin to darken. A low rumbling of thunder stirs from somewhere far off.

"The building and surrounding area have been deemed secure. We should be safe to rest here."

"Right," Eren says. Clicking his tongue, he slaps the reigns and turns off in the direction of the old farmstead. "Old Bess and Hogan will be glad for a roof over their heads tonight. No more than I though. Maybe we'll find some soft hay in that there loft ahead for them to bed down in? Me thinks we'll reach Emberwood tomorrow so long as the mud don't slow us down."

It took a moment for Maxwell to realize that Eren had started moving again. The half-elf had been caught ever so slightly off guard by the fact that Eren had only just realized he was traveling with a pagan. Maxwell looked down at the amulet of the Old Gods that hung openly about his neck. He was aware that the old symbols had become somewhat obscure to the common folk since the Sacred Flame rose to prominence, but still Maxwell had been under the impression that his amulet bore one of the more easily recognized insignias.

When at last he noticed that the wagon was moving, Maxwell walked at a quick pace to catch up, and slowed down as he drew level with Eren.

"Old Bess and Hogan will be glad for a roof over their heads tonight." Eren said. "No more than I though. Maybe we'll find some soft hay in that there loft ahead for them to bed down in? Me thinks we'll reach Emberwood tomorrow so long as the mud don't slow us down."

"New and Old alike be willing, it should be smooth sailing from here on out as the coastal folk would say." Maxwell mused. "I'll search the loft while you see to your own companions." With that said, Maxwell made for the loft in search of hay for the horses. He felt the need, as he often did, to reassure Eren that he was in no danger by traveling with this particular pagan. But the elders of Maxwell's sect had always said that actions spoke louder than words among suspicious outsiders. So the half-elf resolved to show that he was no danger as best he could on this last leg of the journey.

You swing open the heavy barn doors which creak and moan in protest. Motes of dust eddy in the shadows as you peer inside. The large barn is surprisingly well kept and a distinct lack of animal odor tells you no one has used it for its intended purpose in quite some time. Straw crunches softly beneath your boots as you step inside, approaching the center where three bedrolls lie sprawled around an extinguished campfire with an empty iron pot hanging above.

Behind you, Eren drives the giant draft horses through the vestibule until the wagon is fully inside. He hops from the seat, landing with a dull thud beside you. "Well," he says, hands upon his hips, "Let's hope the roof don't leak."





An hour after sunset and the rain finally starts to fall in a gentle patter upon the roof. You did indeed find straw and even a bit of hay for the horses in the loft above. Eren finishes brushing down the untacked horses and, exiting their stall, makes his way over to the crackling fire. He sits with a groan and sigh, then rubs his hands together before checking on the stew he left simmering in the pot. "Ooh, that's good." He gives the pot a stir.

One of the horses nickers, its dark ears perking up. And then...

**Thud Thud Thud**

Eren jumps, nearly tipping the pot as his head whips in the direction of the barn doors. His furrowed gaze finds you as his hand slips toward the knife at his belt. He mouths the words, "More bandits?"

"Open up! Please, it's bloody cold out here!" A man's voice calls from outside.

"Ooh, that's good." Eren said as he stirred the stew.

"Indeed." Maxwell agreed. "How much lon-"

One of the horses nickered, its dark ears perking up. Many Colors took flight from Maxwell's shoulder and perched on the hay loft doors. And then...

**Thud Thud Thud**

Maxwell unslung his longbow and nocked an arrow in preparation.

"More bandits?" Eren mouthed.

"...I am not sure." Maxwell said as Many Colors sent an image of who was outside along their telepathic link. "There's three of them. All armed, but their weapons are stowed. One is certainly a man. Another is possibly a woman. I cannot make out the third, but that one seems to be having trouble standing."

"Open up! Please, it's bloody cold out here!" The man's voice called from outside.

"We've encountered bandits today, so forgive us if we're a little cautious about strangers!" Maxwell called back. "Who are you?"

"Yes, we saw their bodies on the road." A short pause and then the man's voice returns. "We're adventurers come from Emberwood. We're only looking to share your fire. Please, let us in."

Eren catches your gaze, a brow cocked in question as if to say, "Your call."

Maxwell slipped a hand into his coin pouch, pulled out a gold piece, and flipped it.

Heads.

Putting the coin away and showing his bow and arrow, Maxwell moved towards the door with a hand resting on the pommel of his rapier. "Come slowly and one at a time." Maxwell said. "Make no sudden movements and keep your hands where I can see them." With that said, Maxwell opened the door.