~~LEEROY JENKINS~~

-1-

Explain it to me again, said Trafalgan with a sigh.

“Again? Ok, I went busting in there while he was doing his daily naturals. He never had a chance. I hurled my dagger like this.” Leeroy said as he mimed an exaggerated overhand throwing motion. “And wouldn’t you know it, the thing just absolutely hammers him right square on the nose with the grip. His nose just shatters and blood starts spurting out every which way.” He finishes describing with exaggerated sound effects and gestures.

“Anyways, I finished running up to him, you know, and grabbed his throat with one hand and his wrist with the other and then poured my lighting into him. Didn’t take but a second before he let loose a second flow…ALL …OVER …MY …BOOTS. That jackweed elf pissed on my boots! What did you expect me to do?” Leeroy animated exclaimed.

“So, instead of just cleaning your boots or…I don’t know …buying new boots with the payment from the job you swapped your now pissed-on boots with the very boots you were sent to retrieve?”

“Look at ‘em Traf,” he said thumping one heel up on the desk, ”they’re awesome. When I’m wearing these, I always feel charged up. Makes me wanna just yell out LEEEERRRROOYYY JEEEEENNNNNKKKINNNSSSS and go go go. That’s worth way more than the few measly gold coins that dragonborn was gonna give us.”

Trafalgan chided Leeroy saying, “That dragonborn was the favorite third cousin or something of some bigshot adventurer in Ruinspoke. This job was to earn his trust and gain more opportunities working their claims around the Untherean Ruins. Yet somehow, he ended up with a dagger in the back. Thankfully, you did it at night and made such a total mess of his camp that it looks like a whole group of bandits came through instead of just one bumbling fool.”

Leeroy began to pace back and forth during the diatribe. He just felt so energetic lately. Ever since that last job, he struggled to stay still for long. He just felt the urge to get up off his rump and act.

“When we get a job, we finish the job and get paid.” Leeroy’s boss continued, “Your idiotic stunts put the whole family at risk. We have a reputation to uphold. If word gets around in the community that we renege on our contracts, we’ll have go back to banditry and low-level hustling. You wanna go back to sleeping in haystacks and cutting purses?”

“I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.” Leeroy answered with no real remorse. He had learned long ago to just say the word Trafalgan wanted to hear and move on.

I have to get him out of our hair for this next job. The crime boss thought. I can’t afford any more mistakes like this last one. Faerun knows he’s handy in a scrape and ain’t squeamish about nothing, but he’s too wild for the kind of work we’re starting to get. I need to send him on a job that keeps him busy for awhile.

“Leeroy…”

Leeroy, lost in his own thoughts, continued to pace around the room with pent up energy.

“Hey! LEEROY!” Roared the older man.

“I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.” Leeroy absentmindedly answered a second time with no real remorse.

“Since this is the first time you’ve acted like this and potential put the family in jeopardy, I’m willing to overlook your mistake here if you can do this next job more cleanly.”

This perked Leeroy up and caused him to miss a half step. He was itching for some more action. He felt like he could charge into a cave of rookery whelps and take them on single handedly. Man he felt good!

“South of here on the High Road is the little town of Daggerford. Our contact says the Duke there has a decorative cup in his treasure case that is sorely missed the wood elves. Apparently, they think it provides healthy offspring to the forest creatures or some such thing.” Trafalgan explained.

“The cup is about this big.” He said holding his hands out, palms facing each other, right hand stacked over the left, two hand spans apart. It is made of some rare kind of stone the color of a robin’s egg and etched with inlaid silver runes. To pick it up, you will need gloves made from woven pine straw.”

“Gain that cup anyway you want, but don’t get caught. Think you can handle it?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, ok. I can do that.” Leeroy said while shuffling from foot to foot in time with some beat that only he could hear.

Traflagan thought, there, the travel time alone should keep him occupied nicely. Let him waste his time chasing after rumors in some backwoods river town.

I would look quite dashing drinking from a cup like that, thinks Leeroy before he says “You can trust ole Leeroy. No mistakes from me this time.”

The older man stands up and in a dismissive tone says, “Here’s some gold to get you started. Go and see Marmiene at the supply drop before you leave and she’ll fix you up. Don’t let us down on this one Leeroy. We may be family, but we ain’t blood and I can’t let you risk our position.”

Leeroy nods solemnly as he exits the small secluded office, while thinking about himself sitting at the tavern drinking from his newly acquired cup. There’s no way the new bar girl, what’s her name, wouldn’t want to have a roll and tickle with someone who has a cup like that.

~~GOLDIE~~

-2-

Why does this crowd seem smaller? Goldie thought to herself as she finished her last number for the evening. Her fingers lightly strumming minor chords as she sang the last few lines of her final number. Am I losing customers?

Goldie had been performing at the Silver Flood Inn for the past fortnight. Located in the River Quarter near the Docks and Barracks, it was packed near to capacity every night with an eclectic array of customers. Long tables flanked by open backed benches covered the straw-lined floor. A high bar, paneled with driftwood, dominated the opposite wall from the performing area which could not properly be called a stage. Yet, the blending of off-duty local guards with travelers from the river trade always made the atmosphere in the common room feel charged and Goldie reveled in the tingly way it made her feel.

She swept her eyes out across the room again, while her voice held out the final ringing note of her song past the dying note from the dulcimer and thought, Yes, it is smaller. The realization put a damper on the usual thrill she felt at the applause and whistles she was receiving.

As she stepped daintily off the raised platform near the roaring hearth and crossed the room towards the stairs that led to her room, she overheard one of the guards mumble to his drinking partner.  “Eh, this girly is a nice sight. Ain’t no denying that, but what Feylana lacks in this ‘uns looks, she more than makes up for with her show’in. What a bore.”

A filled common room in exchange for room and board. That was the deal she had made two weeks ago upon arriving at the Inn. She also received twenty-five percent of the coin from all drinks bought during her performances. So far, her pretty face and gifted voice had allowed her to keep up her end of the deal. The notoriety of being new in town didn’t hurt either. The Innkeeper, Gundram, was a particularly ugly man. His squarish head with the lumpy nose and seemingly permanent scowl did not make for an enjoyable conversation partner. However, he did always pay at the end of the week and, so far anyway, he had not attempted to offer Goldie the “opportunity” to earn a few extra coins the way other innkeepers had. Yet, if she was losing her appeal in this town, her arrangement might end up changing in ways she would prefer to avoid.

Feylana, that twice cursed, no good, whore. Thought Goldie as her graceful steps began to give way to childish stomping. She’s only been in town for three days and already has gained as much notoriety as me. Where had that strumpet come from anyway? And what is she doing in her performances that would make these men who normally drool over me like her better? The more she thought about it, the angrier she grew.

When she reached the bottom of the stairs leading up to the rooms, she swung a frustrated kick at one of the cats the Innkeeper kept around to control rats. Leaping up, it hissed at her before arrogantly sauntering away.

Her room was at the very end of the hall facing the street the locals called Horse Way. It would have had a lovely vista of the Ducal Castle to the northeast if not for the roof of the adjacent building filling the view. She sighed as she opened the round window and thought Oh well, at least it’s not over the stables. The opened window allowed the smell of the river to drift in and it helped to calm her mood.

She liked the fishy river smell. It reminded her of home and the small fishing village she grew up in. She still felt guilty about how long it had been since she last visited, but entertaining for a living was proving to be more difficult, and less lucrative, than she had planned. At first, she had tried a town further from home thinking the more she moved about, the more famous and well paid she would become. Since then, she had also learned that the more you moved about, the more your coins dwindled too. She sent letters home when she could, but deep down she knew that was no substitute for visits in person. It had been long enough now, that the thought of actually going felt strangely awkward.

Thoughts of home reminded her of her mother. The beautiful elfess whose voice could tame the wild animals. Feeling her ire rekindle, she made the decision to see if she could sneakily catch a portion of Feylana’s show.

Angrily grumbling to herself while she prepared a disguise she said, “There’s no way she plays or sings better than me. What ‘show’in’ could she possibly do that would cause these men to abandon ME? My voice is as good as my mother’s and my playing is as good too. I sing all the famous songs, and every night one of the men drunkenly proposes to me.”

…

 Well that was certainly…unexpected. Goldie mused while walking back from the Caravan Quarter. Her quarry had been located inside the Lady Luck Tavern.

Feylana’s performance had included quite a bit more visual entertainment than Goldie was used to. The combination of an obscenely lowcut top with the bawdy lyrics seemed to drive the men in the audience wild. And the way she moved through the crowd while singing, ever so often grazing the arm or neck of the drinkers…

“If she can do it; I can do it better. I mean, she had the face of a toad and voice nearly as bad.” Goldie grumpily mumbled to herself as she continued home.

As soon as she had come through the door, Gundram motioned her over to where he was currently wiping down the bar.

“You remember our arrangement?” he said not pausing in his work.

“Of course I do,” Goldie pouted “All the tables were full tonight, like we agreed.”

“Hmph, maybe not quite so full as it has been.” He grunted back.

“You just make sure the room stays full or I’m gonna have to start charging you for the use of my hospitality.” He said with a scowl. “I ain’t interested in no charity cases. You fulfill your end of the bargain or you can pay to stay here like everyone else.”

Goldie was a little surprised that he hadn’t offered to allow her to earn her keep in the form of more physical payment. He did live here all by himself and she certainly had never seen him with a woman. Maybe she was losing her touch. Even so, when she entered her room, she checked the latch twice when locking it behind her. Then she inserted a homemade contraption into the gap between the door and the frame that acted a secondary, jamming lock.

As Goldie prepared for sleep, she began to plan her next performance and the modifications to her outfit. Visions of a packed room full of people chanting her name filled her thoughts as she drifted off to sleep.

~~CROR~~

-3-

 “Knowledge Cror! Knowledge! There is so much more out there to find and learn!” the gnome, Namfoodle, chattered excitedly to his large, imposing friend as they walked towards the gate leading into Daggerford.

“I still don’t see why we couldn’t stay another day in that village. I really think that farmer’s daughter was warming up to me.” Cror replied sullenly.

Namfoodle tapped his lips as he mused on their recent experiences. “Hmm, you may have a point there. She did swing a TORCH at your head. I read somewhere once about a culture that used torches in their mating rituals.Maybe she was attempting to revive an ancient practice.” Namfoodle offered helpfully to his downtrodden companion.

Cror continued to trudge along doggedly while Namfoodle’s little gnome legs scurried along to keep pace with the much larger half-orc’s.

Big and nasty.  That’s the way she had described him. She seemed nice at first. Was perfectly willing to let him haul that stuck heifer out the creek for her. He even carried it safely back into the field. Then, when he continued to follow her home she didn’t seem to want to be seen with him. At over six and a half feet tall with grey skin and midnight eyes, he was hard to miss. Yet, she seemed shocked to find him behind her. The torch thing was certainly uncalled for.

Just inside the town gate, the duo entered the marketplace. Tents and stalls covered in fabrics of a wide array of colors and patterns assaulted the eyes. They had walked most of the evening trying to put distance between them and the last little no name town they had passed through. Dawn was just now peeking its sleepy head up over the edge of town and the market was mostly deserted save for a few merchants setting up for the day’s work. To the left was a long, three story building that dominated the northern edge of the market. A ten-foot-tall stone wall jutted out in front, creating a long narrow courtyard between the building and the barrier. The sign by the entrance gate announced this to be the Guildmaster’s Hall and Namfoodle’s destination.

“Oh yes! Yes, yes. A proper guildhall again!” Namfoodle exclaimed. “It will be ever so nice to again study amongst proper scholars and seekers again.” He was already weaving his away toward the entrance and day dreaming about the mysteries he would unlock inside.

“I’m gonna go check us into this tavern. I’ll be right here close if you need me.” Cror rumbled after his little friend. After watching the gnome’s small frame disappear, he proceeded toward the tavern that lay directly in line with the gate they had just entered. It sat on the opposite side of the market from the guildhall. The sign hanging over the doorway depicted a nearly naked, amply endowed woman whose modesty was barely saved by the curve and ends of the large single horseshoe painted over them. The Lady Luck Tavern.

After securing a modest room and a large breakfast in the nearly empty common room, Cror promptly dropped off to catch some much-needed rest. He awoke late in the afternoon feeling refreshed but once again famished. There was more activity in the room this time and a stir of anticipation. Nearly all the customers were men who sat around as if waiting for something. Cror ordered a large mug of ale and two bowls of stew from the bar and took a seat towards the back of the room. He was ignorant of the hateful looks his presence earned from the other patrons.

While he sipped his ale, and waited for his food, he wondered how his friend was getting along in the guildhall and if he should check in there first or explore the town a bit and see if he could catch the eye of any pretty girls. He was deep in thought when suddenly he noticed the smell of jasmine a split second before a curvaceous young lady slid into the seat next to him.

“My, aren’t you a big one.” She said seductively with a mischievous smile and twinkle in her eye.

Cror just stared at her dumbly. He found it difficult not to focus solely on the plentiful cleavage she was putting on display.

“Not one for conversation I see. Or maybe not all there.” She said tapping her temple. “That’s ok, there’s really only one thing that has to be.” She purred with a wink.

Cror had never been approached this openly by a woman and was very much out of his element. “Right. I’m Cror.” He clumsily replied with a gulp, oblivious to the angry stares he was getting from the rest of the room. “Uhh, can I buy you a drink?”

She leaned in close, placing her hand on his knee and whispered breathily into his ear, “Oh, the thing I really want is to be rescued. I feel safe in telling you this because you have the look of a good, honest, warrior who isn’t afraid of anything. You see, I’m trapped here in Daggerford, forced to perform every night and am forbidden from leaving. The Ducal heir decreed that I am now owned by the city and therefore subject to his will. If someone big, strong, and brave were to save me. I…I…I’m sure my thanks would be overflowing.”

“The gate is right there, why can’t you leave?” Cror asked innocently. “We could leave right now, together. I can protect you.”

“Ha!” She laughed bitterly. “If only that were true. He would just round up his posse and bring me back. I’m just a poor defenseless girl. How could I stop him?”

“What can I do?”

“Well, the duke’s son. The Marquess du Lézard -Marais, as he is officially known, likes to walk along the river at twilight. If you were to convince him to let me go, and bring back his sword sheath as a token of his permission. I…would…be…ever…so…grateful.” She murmured softly to him as she walked her fingers further up his leg with each word.

With his pulse pounding in his ears, Cror quietly proclaimed with a husky voice “I will get that scabbard, this very night!” He quickly crossed the room, completely forgetting about his hunger and previously ordered food. Taking one last long look back, he exited out into the dwindling daylight.

With Cror’s departure, Feylana straightened up with a playful shimmy and loudly proclaimed to the room. “Don’t worry boys, now that I’ve gotten rid of that stinking half-breed, the fun can begin. Start up the music, and I’ll sing you a spicy little tune I learned while travelling along the coast.”

~~NAMFOODLE~~

-4-

The entryway led into a wide foyer. Where most building in town had a more ramshackle appearance this one was much neater and obviously better cared for. The foyer floor was set in a parquet pattern made from two different shades of gray stone. Long wings extended away from the central foyer and twin sets of winding stairs were set on each end leading to second and third levels. A few paces further in led to a large gathering area. The backwall was covered in a wide array of vast tapestries and large fireplaces dominated the north and south walls (check over here to know about the smoke alarm advice that is being given by the experts to avoid the fire accidents). Many high-backed chairs and small tables dotted space.

It was The Guildmasters’ Hall, not just the guildhall. Turns out that most day-to-day issues were handled by the Council of Guilds and they liked to flaunt it. Three times Namfoodle had to be corrected while asking directions by not referring to the building by its proper name. This didn’t bother him, as he barely registered the difference in his excitement to begin his research. He was eventually directed to the entrance to the mages guild that dominated the third floor of the east wing. A testing obelisk had been setup at its entrance and it registered a single, solemn tone when he crossed the threshold. Strangely, it looked deserted with no one in sight.

After only a few moments, a wizened looking dwarf shuffled up to Namfoodle and introduced himself as Davlamin Samulkin, Magister Dominus for the Daggerford Mage’s Guild. He escorted the gnome to a simple private room and offered some refreshment. It was odd for a dwarf to be a head mage, but not completely unheard of. Namfoodle wondered where he had studied and how he had acquired enough talent to rise to such a position. However, those thoughts were quickly overwhelmed by a new set of questions as the dwarf explained the guild regulations.

“All petitioners and visitors to the guild must pass a series of trials before we can share our secrets.” Droned the dwarf. “No use of magic or access to our records will be permitted, until you have proved your worth. Any breaking of this rule will result in your immediate and permanent expulsion.”

Namfoodle was flabbergasted. “Truly, I do not understand. I have never heard of such a thing. What are these trials?”

“Oh, do not be afraid. They are quite passible. Just a token of activity to prove your devotion to the study of our ancient and venerable art. A way to prepare the body and mind.”

Davlamin proceeded to list a long series of menial chores and physical tasks for Namfoodle to perform. Some of them were easily understood, such as to wash two fifty-gallon sized cauldrons inside and out with boiling water and salt scrub. Others such as, stack and restack the stacking stones into the proper stacking piles ten times were much more confusing.

“What is the purpose of these tasks?” Namfoodle asked.

“They are to purify the mind and the spirit. Only when we exhaust our bodies and empty our minds, can we truly be refilled with knowledge.” Davlamin continued in his monotonous drone. “You prove to me, through your willingness to do these things, your devotion to the craft. Only after you have shown yourself more devoted to knowledge than to selfishness, will I release our sacred learnings to you.”

This had a certain logic to it that intrigued Namfoodle. He was also a sucker for a good mystery and was secretly dying to discover what the stacking stones were. Later, he would be sorely disappointed to learn they were nothing more than flat stacks of heavy stones that he could barely lift. It seemed to him that the sole purpose of the task was to frustrate the stacker into giving up through sheer exhaustion.

“Well, this all seems doable. If I get started right away, I should be able to finish these today and start my studies late this evening.” With that encouraging thought, Namfoodle asked to be directed to the kitchen where he could start washing cauldrons.

~~WAANUBI~~

-5-

His heavy boots made loud, solid thunks as he proceeding down the dock away from the boats and towards the gate leading into town. His lion-headed war-pick and shield were stowed and secured to his pack leaving his hands free to carry the heavy load before him. It had taken three days of slogging through the swampy marsh to find and slay the creature and he was more than ready for a hot meal, a bath, and some rest. Normally he wouldn’t have attempted to track and kill an owlbear on his own, but this one was only a juvenile and the Innkeeper was paying handsomely for the trophy.

After entering the gate, a short walk down Water Street brought him to the entrance of the Silver Flood Inn. A pretty young half-elf maiden had been playing here during the early evenings and he found her voice enchanting. She performed in the classical style, singing the most famous ballads, which he preferred. Too many performers nowadays were resorting to the more vulgar and common types of entertainments. It was rare to find a talented entertainer who still held to the classics. He was glad that he had arrived with plenty of day left to refresh himself and rest before settling in for a low-key night of food, ale, and a show.

“Fetch me Gundram.” He instructed a passing serving girl. “I have his trophy and wish to discuss payment.” While he waited, the rugged human absentminded arranged the empty glasses on the bar in order from tallest to shortest. He was of a medium height with tanned skin just beginning to display a few faint wrinkles. His cheeks were shaved smooth and his hair was dark in color with some graying along the temples.

After a few minutes, the bleary-eyed Innkeeper appeared. “So, you have it huh?” Oh, that is going to look most excellent mounted over the bar.” He said while eyeing the creature’s head. “You also brought the claws?”

“Of course,” Waanubi replied while depositing a blood stained sack that clattered when he placed it on the bar. “My word is my bond.” Except when it isn’t he secretly thought.

“Hmm, well I’m supposing you’d like to freshen up a bit then. I already sent Stacelia to ready a bath for you. Come, join me in my rooms and tell me all about it. I have a rare vintage of wine that we can share while you tell your tale.” Gundram offered.

“No, I’d prefer not spread this filth around more than is necessary. A meal and some fresh water here at the bar will do just fine for me.” Waanubi replied.

“A pity for me then, but as you wish.” The innkeeper replied sulkily. “Will you be staying for another few nights?”

“Just one more, I plan to move on in the morning. You can deduct the cost of my stay from the payment you owe me and we can settle up in the morning before I depart.”

“Very well” Gundram sighed forlornly, before leaving to fetch the fierce man’s food and water.

Waanubi removed his gloves and set them next to his bowl of simple oatmeal. His right hand, including the nails, was bright scarlet in color that ended abruptly in a clean line at the wrist bones. I wonder how that owlbear even got into the swamp. He thought. They’re normally forest creatures. Perhaps I should travel towards Nightstone and seek out the wood elves that live in the Ardeep Forest near there. They might have an answer worth discovering. His jaw worked methodically as he finished his meal and made his plans for leaving town.

~~LINDAL~~

-6-

Okay, mentally review this job one last time. Steal the sigil stone, whatever that is, and replace it with this replica. Which I have here in this pouch. Must do it before sundown today. No alarms, no attention. Simple.

Oh, except the part about it being hidden, behind a lock, probably booby trapped, and on the third floor. Which just happens to be one floor higher than any of the surrounding buildings. So, no climbing in through a window. I wish my Fa were here to help me with this one, Lindal thought as he absentmindedly itched the tender skin over his right ribs.

He was crouched behind some crates staked in the tiny alleyway between the Lady Luck Tavern and Miller’s Dry Goods. This would have been an uncomfortably tight squeeze for a normal thief, but Lindal was anything but normal. Standing just a hair over a whopping three feet tall, he was not just short but scrawny. Lightfoot-Halflings are not normally known for their robustness, but Lindal was another thing all together. Slender to the point of looking malnourished, he had unremarkable brown hair and eyes. However, he moved with an easy light step and smooth gait that betrayed a wiry, athletic build in place of what might otherwise be confused as emaciated and sickly.

He had been casing the Guildmasters’ Hall for three days now and only had a vague sort of plan for how he was going to accomplish this job. Today was the last day before he forfeited payment and became a mark himself. Failure was not an option. Success was not guaranteed. He was confident he could navigate any traps or locks. He’d become adept at those through obsessive practice over the years. Never mind the actual life experiences he’d gained as well. Life on the streets did not smile kindly upon the young. He had had many hours of solitude in which to perfect his craft. However, there was no obvious weak point of entry and he had yet to scout the actual floor. This one was going to be a challenge.

As he contemplated how he was going to make his move, he noticed a gnome and very large orc enter the marketplace. Hmm, upon closer inspection, make that a half-orc. Nasty looking and humongous. As he watched, odd couple spilt up with the half-orc heading towards Lindal and the tavern. The gnome though, practically danced as he quickly moved towards the Hall. That one was obviously a scholar, likely a mage, and the half-orc must be his hired guard. Maybe I can use this to my advantage. If the gnome truly is a mage, perhaps I can use his appearance as a distraction to get into the guild and make the swap.

With the practiced ease of a master of his craft, Lindal stealthily moved through the open marketplace taking great care to stay unnoticed. He worked his way around to the backside of the Hall using the tight alleyways and slipped through a tight crack he had discovered during his previous expeditions. He had just finished easing through a gap that allowed him entry into the cellar when he heard two sets of steps approaching. The halfling quickly darted behind a stack of giant cheese wheels with thick, yellowed rinds.

“Looks like old Davlamin has him a new applicant eh?” said thin man dressed in simple cooks clothes.

“Yar, en eager looking fellar too. Don’t suppose it’s right what happens to them mages once the old Magister gets to ‘em, but tain’t my place to question one of tha council members. A‘sides, gets us outta washin” replied the second, portly man.

“It never set quite right with me that magic users saunter around like they’re better than us. Let the old dwarf thin the herd for all I care.” The thin man continued.

“Ere, elp me wif this sack. It’s gonna take all morning to get des ere tubers skint.” Grunted the portly cook.

Lindal watched silently, with short, shallow breaths as the two cooks gathered up the large heavy sack. They grunted laboriously as they wrestled it back into the main kitchen, leaving the larder door open as they went. Seizing the opportunity, the halfling darted out of his hiding place and followed. Luckily, the kitchen was empty except for the two cooks just starting their day and Lindal was able to quietly slip past them out into the hall.

Time to find that gnome and see about finishing this job.

~~LEEROY~~

-7-

Leeroy had been in town for three weeks now and had successfully befriended the Ducal heir, the Marquess du Lézard -Marais. Amongst his friends, he was known simply as Tumbo.  The young marquess cut an impressive figure. He stood over six feet tall and ax-handle wide across the shoulders. His face was dominated by a square-cut jaw and piercing blue eyes. With sandy-blonde hair and a fair complexion, he might have made a successful Lothario if it weren’t for his rolling gut and chubby thighs. He was also quite disagreeable.

Loud and uncouth, Tumbo flaunted his position and used his power to belittle and demean the citizens of Daggerford. Around himself, he had collected a feral group of yes-men and lackeys who spent their time carousing about and generally stirring up trouble and discord. Leeroy liked him at once. On his second night in town, Leeroy joined in with Tumbo and his crew at one of the local taverns. After several rounds of drinks, vulgar stories, and a hilarious but failed attempt at singing, Leeroy had nearly won them over.

The final feather in his cap came when he was challenged to a game of darts. However, instead of darts, they would use daggers; and, instead of a board, they would use lit candles. Each member of the crew took turns flinging a dagger at the lit candles with expected results. Most of the throws went wide and missed completely. Twice the candles were struck by a hilt or handle, nearly causing a fire. Finally, it was Leeroy’s turn. Full of ale, and swaying heavily, Leeroy adroitly heaved his dagger, neatly trimming the wick. His weapon struck the backwall point first and quivered to produce a single clear note that reverberated throughout the room. Since that night, Leeroy had spent nearly every waking hour chumming around with Tumbo and his crew.

“Let’s go watch Feylana tonight,” Ratface said. “I think I’ve nearly got her broken down. Bet I’ll show her a good time tonight.”

“Ha! You’re such a sap. That girl ain’t interested in what’s in your pants. Except for your silver maybe, and most of that comes from me anyway. Dummy.” Tumbo contemptuously replied.

“Aww, you don’t got to be that way Tumbo. I…I…was just joking. You knowed that.”

“Well, if we’re not gonna watch her, what are we gonna do?” Leeroy asked.

“Tonight, is a special night.” The marquess said conspiratorially. “You’ve been chumming around with us for a while now, and you’re a damn good man to have around. I still chuckle at the way that cat ran when you tied a lit torch to its tail. Oh, and the time you stole Mrs. Hursten’s pie then turned around and sold it to her husband. Heh.”

“Anyway, tonight we initiate you in the sacred rites of our little brotherhood and make you an official member of the group. One of those filthy, stinking, half-breed orcs came into town this morning. Who does he think he is, sullying our favorite hangout spot with his ugly face and stinking breath? Don’t he know that his kind ain’t welcome around hardworking, decent folk like us? I’ve already worked it out with old Ratface’s girlfriend. We’ll setup down by the river, at a little spot I know. She’s gonna send him to us, and we’re gonna give him a proper Daggerford welcoming.” An alarming amount of spittle flew off his lips as he finished, sneering with disdain.

“To make it special, maybe we can take some ale and your father’s display cup and enjoy a good drink while we wait?” Leeroy hopefully offered. “Lend me your key and I’ll fetch it with a cask as well.”

“I don’t know what’s with you and that stupid cup Jenkins. It’s just some stupid display piece my father thought was pretty. You just want that key so you steal the diamonds and buy yourself enough ale to swim in. So for the last time, I’m not giving you my key! Besides, I want you boys sober tonight. Those orc-breeds don’t deserve the breath that’s in ‘em, but that don’t make ‘em easy. Every man here better be there tonight, clear-headed, and ready for action. Understood?”

…

They were hidden in the shadows of a thick clump of trees about a hundred paces from the edge of the river. The hours were dragging by, and Leeroy’s boredom was starting to get to him. He was just about ready to yell out his own name and go rushing after a rabbit at the edge of the trees when Ratface hissed “There’s Tumbo, and he’s got the half-breed coming behind him, just like he planned. Everyone get ready for the signal.”

Leeroy eased up to the edge of the wood line to peek out. His hand gripped tightly around one of his daggers as he watched Tumbo get closer. The orc jogged up behind the marquess, with one hand reaching towards him. The sound of the river was just loud enough that he couldn’t hear what the human or orc were saying but Tumbo’s sneer and the half-orc’s narrowed eyes said enough.

Tumbo spit in its face, and reached down to draw his sword. Before he could clear the sheath, the beast had already closed the distance, clamping one large hand down on the hilt, and forced the sword safely back into the scabbard.

“Oh, by Hoar’s black hand! He’s still too far away. Go!” Ratface roared. “Now you fools!”

~~LINDAL~~

-8-

The diminutive gnome whistled happily while he worked. Occasionally humming or breaking into song.

Nam-i-foodle, Nam-i-foodle
Night and day it’s Nam-foodle
Make the fire, fix the breakfast
Wash the dishes, do the mopping

Alright, better make this work, Lindal thought as he cautiously approached the gnome.

“Errr, excuse me sir gnome. Are you working for the Magister too?” Lindal said pretending shyness.

“Why yes, and I can see by the state of your clothes he has had you working as well. My, that smell is something too. Perhaps I should be thankful, I’ve only had to mop, clean, and wash so far.” Namfoodle replied. “What have you been doing, mucking stables?”

“Right, exactly. He sent me to fetch an item from his quarters now but I’m afraid I’ve forgotten where they are. Do you think you could help a fellow laborer out?” the halfling asked.

Looking around quickly the gnome said “Perhaps if we worked together, we could finish our tasks early and get to the scrolls faster. What do you say?”

“Sure, that’s a swell idea. I’m Clodhopper Happyfoot.” Lindal say extending his hand. “We little folk have to stick together, keep from getting picked on or taken advantage of you know.”

This delighted the gnome, “Exactly! If there is one thing I can’t stand, it’s to be picked on. I’m Namfoodle Nackel. My next task is to stack and restack the stacking stones. I’m dying to discover what those are all about.”

…

I can’t believe I just spent an hour moving stupid stones around this room! What a complete and utter waste of time. At least, it gave me a good reason to be in the guild proper. And being with this gnome here, did make it easy to get past that warning tone at the entrance. I hadn’t counted on that.

“Say friend,” Lindal started after wiping sweat from his brow, “what is next on your list?”

“Oh, it is to dig two holes in the courtyard and then refill the holes while concentrating on emptying the mind and body of selfish desires. With two of us, we can dig those holes twice as fast.”

“Yes, why don’t you go on ahead and I’ll deliver the item from the Magister’s chambers first and then I’ll meet you down there.” Lindal suggested slyly.

“Ahh, why don’t I come with you for your task. You did help me with the stones after all.”

“Oh no need, really. I would prefer to do this part on my own. If I’m being honest, just between us, I might like to have a few minutes to catch my breath for a minute.”

“Indeed, I could use a bit of breather myself. Maybe I’ll step out and spend some time with Onyx for a bit. He’s my raven friend. I’m very interested in birds. Especially waterfowl. Though, Onyx isn’t a waterfowl of course. He’s a raven as I said. He still makes a good companion though. Very intelligent…”

“Haha, right. Yeah sounds good,” Lindal deflected as he slipped away from the still chattering gnome. Now to find that sigil stone.

…

Getting inside the chamber was suspiciously easy. The only other soul he had seen inside the Mage’s Guild this entire time had been Nackel. I wonder where the rest of them are? Never mind, not my concern. Now where would I keep a secret object of magical power? He thought as he began to search through the room. His expert eye quickly took in the overall layout, automatically searching for inconsistencies and clues. The suite was a series of two modest rooms. The entry room served as a sort of mix between a sitting room and museum. Two simple, overstuffed, chairs sat facing each other while the walls were lined with shelves containing the oddest assortment of items. The next room was obviously a bedroom. A large, ornately carved, four-poster bed consumed most of the floor space. There was a simply built armoire against the wall opposite the window and a large trunk at the foot of the bed.

The obvious hiding place would be in the chest, probably behind multiple layers of locks. However, his clients said it would be better concealed than that. Trusting his instincts, Lindal approached the armoire and inspected it closely. He easily picked the lock on the drawer but discovered nothing interesting except for the odd assortment of lacy, colorful under garments. Who knows what eccentricities dwarves are in to. Yet, somehow he still felt this was the correct hiding place. He reached inside the drawer and angled his arm up to discover a hidden latch that released the drawer, allowing it to be pulled completely out of the armoire.

This then revealed a locked panel at the back of the large piece of furniture. I knew it would be here! Yet, he stayed cautious. Somehow, he didn’t feel settled about attempting the pick right away. He had learned long ago to trust those feelings even if he did not know where they came from. He began to work at the lock, and noticed it felt slightly different than he was used to. The tumblers and mechanisms were in the right place, and moved according to their proper fashion but just a hair more languidly than they should. As if they were lazy, yet the lock made a clean, satisfied sound when finally turned.

*CLICK*

Wary, instead of opening it right away, Lindal hesitated. Something was off about the way the mechanisms moved. Years ago, he had commissioned a tool of his own design from a wizard. He had spent every bit of wealth he had on it but had earned that back many times over since. Made of pure silver, it was slim enough to be nearly translucent. What made it so special, was that it could be manipulated with subtle hand movements that allowed it to pivot and explore in any direction while providing instant haptic feedback. He could only use it once per lunar cycle and he called it simply, “The Feeler.”

Trusting that this was the right time to expend its usefulness, he inserted it into the gap around the edge of the panel. Moving his index and thumb with tiny adjustments on the handle, he discovered a spring-loaded trap that would trigger once the door was cleared. The priming of this trap, during the pick, must have been what he felt. Using his device, he quickly disarmed it, opened the panel, and made the swap.

Relocking everything, he was just finishing with the drawer when he heard the door for the chambers opening. With no time to spare, he scrambled to the top of the armoire. There was a raised, decorative lip about six inches tall that ran around the top edge. He lay flat on this back, feet canted over so that his toes wouldn’t stick up and cocked his head sideways as well. Then, staying as still as possible, he held his breath and waited to see if he would be discovered.

Davlamin crossed the room, directly to the armoire and with obvious practice adroitly removed the drawer, unlocked everything, and using a spectral floating hand, made the trap safe before opening the panel. With a smirk on his face, he claimed the stone before resetting everything back into its proper place.

“Odd,” the dwarf said before sliding the drawer shut, “I thought I had put the red on top of the blue? Oh ho ho, that sneaky little human, he still thinks he can get my stone and free himself. Tsk, tsk.” Still talking to himself, the dwarven mage walked towards the exit.

“If the compulsions I’ve laid down in his mind are degrading already, I’ll simply have to break it and turn him into another one of the mindless thralls like the others. Besides, after tonight, fully exhausted, I’ll have that new gnome under my control and he’ll…” The words cut off as he closed to door.

~~WAANUBI~~

-9-

“Wowza, what a show! Just glad I was able to get one of these stools and have a clear view. I’m Swiftfoot Surefriend by the way,” the emaciated looking halfling said introducing himself while standing up on the stool next to the human.

Using two hands to manage the large mug, he continued with a slight slur “That sweet little half-elf really knows how to stir it up. And did you see the way she winked at me earlier? Who knew a maiden as fair as her would be into a halfling like me. When she’s thru, I’ll have to follow up on that suggestion for sure.”

The human he was speaking to rolled his eyes. That was the third time he’d been introduced to the halfling. A different name each time. Waanubi had descended into the common room before the performances began for the evening and had taken his customary stool at the bar towards the back of the room. The halfling had showed up just after Goldie’s first surprisingly risqué number, already deep in his cups. This was not the tasteful and enlightened performance he was looking forward to. What he was watching tonight was barely a notch above a whorehouse display.

“A’ night laito, amin merna a’ get freaky yassen lle” she sang as she bent over displaying her cleavage and slowly running one hand up her leg providing a flash of her slender thigh. A visible ripple ran through the crowd of men as she finished the line. It was as if she were a puppeteer causing her marionettes to move to her will.

Wannubi pondered what he was witnessing. Or it was as if she was casting a spell over the room. Yet completely unaware of her effect at the same time. Otherwise, why would she keep pouring it on this way? She had to be ignorant of the impact she was having. That or she had a sick sense of humor and risk. If she didn’t stop soon, the pent-up energy in this room was going to boil over with nasty results. Waanubi was only able to control his own feelings due to the many years he had spent in the monastery training body, mind, and soul in deep meditative practice. However, even so, he still felt strong stirrings down below. He had trouble imagining how much worse it would have been with the effects of alcohol.

Still, the pent-up horniness of the general clientele was beginning to show. He had already seen one dagger drawn in anger and two others had already gone outside to settle things with their fists. It also didn’t help that after her first number, word had spread quickly about her new style and the room was more packed than usual. Uncomfortably so. Waanubi’s glowering presence, combined with his place furthest from the entertainment, allowed him to maintain at least some measure of space around himself. The little halfling took advantage of that fact combined with his small stature and had been chattering his ear off ever since.

“By Nobanion’s roar, this is about to turn ugly,” the paladin mumbled to himself.

He turned towards his stool mate and feeding into the halfling’s delusion, but for the greater good, he said, “Swiftfoot, your young lady friend there is in danger. The men in here won’t take her teasing for much longer. If you still harbor any hope for her affections, you must go and fetch the captain of the town guard. Tell him that a riot has started at the Silver Flood Inn. I will do my best to protect her from these jackals.”

“Riot? There’s no riot. You’re not making any sense. Besides, I’m enjoying the show. You go,” the emaciated figure replied with a wave of his mug that caused some ale to slop out.

Rising to his feet, Waanubi seized the inebriated halfling by his leathers and hauled him to the door.

“Quickly now! Earn your name for your father’s sake!” Waanubi roared as he pitched him bodily into the street.

The half-elf sang these lyrics suggestively as Waanubi quickly crossed the floor and moved upstairs to his room.

Manka lle’re horny, let’s uma ta
ride ta, amin roch
amin saddle’s waitien
tul a ar’ jump no’ ta

He quickly donned his battle gear. Then taking up his shield in one hand and his lion-headed great pick in the other he knelt and communed briefly with his god. As a holy Paladin of Nobanion, he was dedicated to bringing order out of chaos. And if there was ever a situation bound to devolve into chaos, it was this one.

Upon the completion of his prayer, he felt a rare divine blessing settle over him. Only twice before had he felt this touch. Slowly, wisps of pale, faint, light began to emanate from his form. His shield blazed fiercely with divine light and his pick thrummed with power. He dashed down the stairs and returned to a scene of pandemonium.

Fist fights had broken out across the room. One man, by the door, was clubbing another with an empty stein. Up by the stage, two others were playing tug-a-war with a silk scarf Goldie had tossed out earlier. A drunk man staggered backwards into Waanubi after taking a blow to the chin. The Paladin shunted him off his shield and into a nearby table causing it to upend on top of the now unconscious man.

A piercing scream filled the air as a large, rough-looking, sailor seized the maiden around her waist and lifted her from the floor. He began to drag her towards one of the dining rooms off the side hallway. Taking calm, heavy strides, Waanubi closed the distance and with a crouch, swept his weapon at the feet of the attacker. The sailor landed on his back, the girl still clutched in his arms. A heavy thunk indicated the back of his skull bouncing off the hard, wooden floor. She quickly scrambled to her feet, her large, beautiful, green eyes as wide as dinner plates.

With a primal roar, Waanubi shouted to the room, drawing attention to himself, “In the name of Lord Firemane, cease this at once!”

The last thing he saw before he was engulfed in combat, was the girl darting past him up the stairs.

…

“Seeing as no one was killed. And because this halfling attests that you’re the one who sent him to me for help and furthermore, because these witnesses corroborate your story about the girl being attacked, I’m not going to arrest you.” The pompous captain of the guard continued, “But I want you out my town. Tonight. Gather up your things and leave immediately.”

“Of course, captain. I am happy to comply. There only the matter of the payment due me by the Innkeeper that causes me to remain.” Waanubi explained. “Three days ago, he hired me to obtain that trophy you see there behind the bar. Yet, now he refuses to pay.”

“Is that true Gundram?” The Captain demanded, his bushy mustache bristling.

“What!? Of course, it’s not. This ruffian scares off my entertainer, thrashes my paying customers, and then demands payment for it? That trophy was given to me by Henkrid, that sailor over there. The one that this pious troublemaker lumped on the back of the head. Look at the knot on him. I bet he had this whole thing planned from the start. I mean, what kind of person https://buycbdproducts.com to a tavern and only drinks water anyway? Take this lying vandal to the cells instead of letting him go.”

Turning to Waanubi, the captain responded, “It’s your word against his; and Gundram has served in this town his whole life, while you’re just drifting through. Count yourself lucky I’m letting you go.”

The paladin steeled himself and tightened his grip on his weapon. Torn between preventing more chaos and bringing justice to the lying cheat he struggled to contain himself. Waanubi narrowed his eyes at the innkeeper and uttered, “Justice comes in many forms, do not think your treachery will go unpunished.” With that, he stormed out the door.

As he neared the town’s Caravan Gate, the sound of approaching footsteps caused him to whirl around only to discover the emaciated looking halfling racing down the street. Instead of stopping when he reached the human, he dashed past and yelled out “What are you waiting for, come on, before they find out!”

“Over here, there’s a small stand of bushes where we can hide out for a while.” The halfling said as he led them deep into the brush. “We can lay low here until it’s safe to move on.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh! Yeah. Here!” the little halfling said tossing a small pouch to the human. “Your payment.”

“Where did you get this?” Waanubi demanded

“Maybe I found your justice speech so inspiring, that I snuck behind the bar while you were three were arguing and cut this loose from that ungrateful, cheating, rat. I heard how you saved that girl and to think that is the way they repay your help? So…here’s your justice.”

The human smiled wryly and accepted the offering for what it represented. Even if it had been obtained by illicit means. The scales truly are always balanced in the end.

“My real name is Lindal by the way. And I know you didn’t think so, I saw you roll your eyes you know, but I really think that sexy little mix was into me. While we hide out, tell me what happened after I left.”

~~GOLDIE~~

-10-

Goldie hastily threw together her belongings before grabbing her lute and lunging out her window. She quickly but carefully made her way to the edge of the roof. The alley and space between the adjacent building was only about three feet away. A tight squeeze for normal movement but exactly what she needed in this situation. Spreading her hands and feet to press tight against the opposing walls of both buildings she carefully inched her way down to the mucky alleyway floor. She squeezed out of the alley onto Hill Road and as quickly as she could without drawing attention, she began to make her way away from the Silver Flood Inn.

Lucky for her, she always locked her door with secondary measures. After her most recent performance, those men were like a pack of wild animals. Where did it all go wrong? Sure, she showed a little more bosom than Feylana had and perhaps had suggested a few things with her lyrics, but that was no excuse for them assuming she was for sale! Or even worse, for the taking! If that serious looking man with the shield hadn’t attacked the one who was trying to drag her away, she might not have been able to escape to her room and lock the door that bought her the time needed to get away.

Already putting the situation out of her mind, she decided to return to the Lady Luck Tavern to try and learn why Feylana never lost control of her crowd. With a practiced hand, she applied a disguise while on the move. Something that would have been impossible without ample practice under good circumstances. As it was, it was not her best concealment, but it should do for the people of this town. Especially in a tavern filled with drunks all distracted by Feylana and her show.

Unfortunately, the trollop was taking a break between performances. It wasn’t exactly rare for a female to go to the taverns but it neither was it common. She got quite a few looks as she came through the entrance but she didn’t notice any recognition. Goldie did her best to try and find the most inconspicuous spot in the room. All for the better that it also happened to put her within eavesdropping range of her strumpet competition. Ugh, why is she draped all over that hulking brute?

“…and bring back his sword sheath as a token of his permission. I…would…be…ever…so…grateful.” She overheard her whisper to the half-orc. Now, what is she up to? Hmm, if I can disrupt whatever it is that whore has him doing for her, or better yet, get this sap to do for me instead, that would serve her right! In fact, I bet she changed her routine on purpose when I was here knowing what I would do and what would happen.

Goldie quickly slipped out front to wait and follow where he was going. It wasn’t but a minute before the half-orc practically barreled out the front door completely oblivious to Goldie’s presence. She hung back till he was nearly out of sight and then began to follow as stealthily as she could. They walked along the riverbank for a short time, getting steadily closer to a thick stand of trees in the distance. Twilight had just begun to pass into true darkness when she spotted another figure even further ahead walking by himself in the same direction.

“I pity that poor fool,” she said to herself as the half-orc reached out to the much smaller human. “He won’t last three seconds against that brute.”

Their shouts could just barely be heard over the sound of the flowing river, when suddenly a group of four other humans burst out of the trees towards the half-orc and his prey. No! thought Goldie. I will not let this ruin my plans!

Impressively, the half-orc was holding his own against the five opponents, but it was obvious he couldn’t last much longer on his own. Goldie sprinted along the river bank towards the commotion. She was no ordinary entertainer like that common trash Feylana, SHE was a full-fledged bard who could master the magic hidden away inside music.

As the half-elf maiden hurried towards the melee, she began to recite a lilting childhood rhyme her mother had taught her.

A lonely candle burns true light
Oh, my friends and woe my foes
It casts away the shadows of the night
Before it, fear and darkness goes
Returning things to right

 She extended her hands on the last word causing four, intensely brilliant orbs of light to streak towards the group. Squinting against the sudden appearance of the lights, the fighters all stopped to shield their eyes. Still moving, the orbs circled the fracas one time before forming into a vaguely humanoid shape ten feet away. The construct slowly began to stalk towards the shocked group, spilling forth light in all directions. Goldie closed the gap.

~~NAMFOODLE~~

-11-

The sun was setting as Namfoodle panted heavily out in the courtyard. Patting the last shovel full of dirt down with the back of the spade he groaned with exhaustion and sweat. Now where had that little halfling gotten off to? At first, the gnome had worked at a leisurely pace expecting his new friend to show up. When it dawned upon him that he would, once again, be laboring alone, he tried to work twice as fast to make up for the lost time. Not being used to working through physical effort, the long day had certainly taken its toll on the little wizard.

At least his friend Onyx had stayed true. Namfoodle just couldn’t shake the feeling that the raven knew something important and was trying to communicate it. For nearly an hour, the bird had shambled around in a stick legged goosestep. Once or twice it picked up a round, smooth stone, looked him directly in the eye, and then cocked its head before flopping onto its side. After that, Onyx seemed to return to normal and gorged itself on the worms and grubs that Namfoodle was unearthing with his excavation efforts.

With a loud, solitary CAWW, Onyx broke into flight, leaving the gnome standing there with a perplexed look upon his face. At the same moment, Davlamin Samulkin, Magister Dominus entered the courtyard. He congratulated Namfoodle on the excellent quality of his work. “Well done, my fellow sage and master of the arcane. I can now sense a serenity about you. You have taken your tasks seriously.”

“Well, I am very serious about my craft. Does this mean you will now share you scrolls? I have a few candles already and would love to get started this very evening. I’ve lost so much time already.” Namfoodle replied excitedly.

“No need to rush.” Davlamin replied calmly. “Tonight, while you refresh your energies, I will prepare all the best scrolls for your study and have them readied for you upon your waking. You have shown yourself to be a most promising pupil. Very dedicated. Your rooms have been tidied and are waiting.”

Namfoodle preened at the praise and realized that he was, simply put, exhausted in the truest sense of the word. Perhaps a night of rest would be best and he could then attend to his studies with a clear mind. Suddenly, he remembered Cror.

“Oh, but I must not abandon my friend. He will be waiting for me in the tavern over there. I am sure he has already secured us rooms. I shall return at first light in the morning. Until the morrow then.” Namfoodle explained as he began to move towards the street.

Panicked, the magister quickly replied “No! Ummm, you can’t go yet. I have to…uhh…prepare a stone of knowledge for you first. Without that, the scrolls are enchanted to be unreadable. We must take a token of your choosing and imbue it with the encryption. Come with me, and we will choose one from the guild”

“Yes, yes, ok. Scholarship must come first of course. Lead the way.”

Back inside the magic guild. Namfoodle found himself safely ensconced inside a warm cozy study. He and the magister had selected a small glass marble for his focus, and while he waited for the dwarf to return with the other items for the spell, he was seated in front of a roaring fire. A stiff moving, lethargic, human servant had brought him a cup of chamomile tea with milk. The servant’s gaze was unfocused and he mutely performed his task before leaving. The study had deep, plush carpets and incense burned infusing the air with the smell of lavender and cedarwood. Exhausted from his day’s labors, Namfoodle Nackel, gnome, scholar, wizard of the arcane dropped off into a peaceful slumber.

…

Namfoodle found himself standing in the midst of a misty plane. The smoke like substance swirled about his form and danced in an enchanting pattern. He could hear a monotonous, directionless voice chanting something in a language he could not understand but yet felt familiar. He desperately wanted to obey the voice. If only he could understand what it was telling him! He stretched out his senses, pouring into them his magical abilities, trying urgently to discern the meaning of the words. He felt himself beginning to surrender when a glowing door appeared before him. With his feet moving of their own free will, his hand reached out…

CAWW! CAWW!

The gnome’s eyes snapped open with alarm. Slightly disoriented, it took him a few breaths to recognize his surroundings. Onyx! What was he doing inside?

Looking around the room for his friend, he noticed the bird repeatedly divebombing the magister before fluttering away. The dwarf held a sigil stone within his hand and had a spell book open before him. Namfoodle suddenly became aware of the arcane energy that was directed towards him and the circle of candles around his chair. He leapt up, kicked a candle to break the circle and demanded. “What are you doing!?”

The dwarf groaned with effort before gasping wide eyed. “No! It should have worked. Your magic is to be added to mine!” He quickly began to recite the enthralling spell again. Exhausted from his days work, Namfoodle could barely stand, let alone mount a magical defense.

“I don’t understand, why isn’t this cursed stone working!?” the dwarf exclaimed.

At that moment, the human servant from earlier burst into the room. His movements were no longer jerky or slow. Now free from the enthralling spell, his eyes were clear and they burned with anger. He advanced upon the magister with a deep growl in his throat.

“Namfoodle! You must help me, please.” He screamed as he scrambled away from the approaching human. “This madman will kill me. My friend, don’t let him get me.”

“My friend, Namfoodle, I can show you a school of magic you’ve never thought to comprehend. Together, we can be more powerful than anyone has imagined. Please, Namfoodle, my friend. Just help me defeat this enemy and together we can delve into the great mysteries of creation.”

Turning his back on the scene and shambling groggily out into the hall as the raven settled on his shoulder, the gnome whispered, “No, we certainly are NOT friends. MY friends call me STUMBLEDUCK!“

~~LEEROY~~

-12-

Leeroy rushed out from the cover of the trees towards the hulking beast and his friend the Ducal heir. It was exceedingly obvious that if it weren’t for them, Tumbo would quickly become paste. Luckily, they reached the pair before the half-orc could inflict much damage. Yelling at the top of his lungs, Leeroy plunged headfirst into fray. With a grunt of effort, he leapt towards the large half-orc with a dagger in each hand. Unfortunately, it pivoted away at the right moment and the airborne human instead went whizzing by with his arms pinwheeling wildly.

After landing awkwardly on one ankle and skidding to a halt on his face, he gingerly rose to one knee and looked behind him. His friends were doing their best to take down the monster. Working like a pack of wolves, they would dart in for a strike but the orc-form was quick and equally aggressive. However, with a little time, it was clear they could eventually wear him down. With a dash, Tumbo attempted to swing his sword at its neck, only to find a boot planted in his chest and his body flying away towards Leeroy.

Here’s my chance to finally get that key away from the marquess and steal the cup. Leeroy quickly thought. Before Tumbo could ready himself to charge back into the fight, Leeroy, sensing his opportunity, reared back and adroitly heaved his dagger towards the young noble man’s unprotected back. It whistled through the air before solidly landing in the ribs, perfectly aimed over the heart, with the blunt end of the grip. Tumbo cried out more in shock than pain and whipped around. Their eyes met, and for the first time, the young heir finally saw with clarity the selfish intent within Leeroy’s gaze.

“You back stabbing bastard!” the marquess screamed in fury, “NO ONE TURNS ON ME!”

He retrieved his sword and was tensing for a charge toward his would-be assassin when suddenly an intensely bright light exploded out of the darkness and seared their vision. It took a few moments for their eyes to recover and see a large, glowing shape advancing towards them in an intimidating manner. Ratface abandoned his friends with a yelp and ran back towards the trees. Leeroy seized the opportunity to unholster his light crossbow; quickly drawing back the string and nocking a bolt.

Seeing the crossbow aimed in his direction, Tumbo scrambled to put distance between himself and his betrayer. Not watching where he was going, he ended up running smack into the back of the half-orc who had another one of his attackers in a headlock. The impact caused the half-orc to stagger and release his quarry as the young hair stumbled once again to the ground. This time, instead of attempting to stand, he proceeded to scramble away on all fours like an uncoordinated dog along with the remaining members of his crew.

The half-orc roared a challenge at the retreating group as Leeroy sprinted up beside it.

“And don’t come back here!” Leeroy yelled as he loosed a bolt in the direction of the fleeing group. “Yeah, that’s right. If I catch you picking on my friend here again, you won’t have the chance to get away!”

The human turned towards the confused half-orc and said “That was a close one eh? Glad I made it in time to stop them before it got any worse.”

Just then, Goldie ran panting up to the pair. With a wave of her hands, she dispelled the apparition, plunging the group into darkness.

“I made it just in time,” she said panting in between breaths. “Please tell me you got that scabbard.”

~~CROR~~

-13-

“…and that’s why I had to attack their leader and help you.” Leeroy explained with a charming smile. “That kind of ignorance simply cannot be allowed in this world. Ole Leeroy Jenkins here is a friend to all creatures.”

Still wary, the large orc turned towards the half-elf maiden as they walked back towards town, “And it was your lights that distracted them?”

“Yes,” she meekly replied with tears beginning to well up in her eyes.

“But why were you here?”

Not knowing how to properly explain, she lied “I’ve only been in town a few weeks. Yet, the marquess and I had been secretly meeting every night. He said he loved me and was going to marry me.”

Continuing her charade, she began to weep, “But over the past few days, he’d become distant and reluctant to meet with me. I was worried he’d found someone else, so tonight I followed him. I don’t know what’s worse. Finding out that he is a murderous, hateful, coward; or to have actually found him with another wo..wo..woman.”

With that, she broke into heavy, wracking, sobs as the human and half-orc awkwardly tried to comfort her.

“What a strange night. I do not think I like this town. Let’s find my friend. He will know what to do.” Cror offered.

They made a motley crew as they continued together into town. Leeroy was limping along with a rolled ankle from his botched leap earlier. Yet, every ten paces or so, he would spin one of his daggers into his hand, cock back his arm, and ready himself as if he were about to throw. Then, he would sheath it and continue walking as if nothing were more ordinary before starting the cycle over again.

Goldie obsessively worked to smooth her clothing and her hair as she walked. After wiping away her tears, she would walk proudly with her head held high for a time. Then, with a subtle check of her companions, she would feign a few hitching sobs and barely contain new tears. By the time they arrived back inside the walls, she had adopted a forlorn and wistful expression.

Cror was the most conspicuous of the group. During the tussle, he sustained a litany of small cuts, scrapes, and bruises. None were too serious, and he moved as if he were unaware of their presence. Yet, with one puffed and blackened eye, and blood and dirt smeared in a dozen different places, his already alarming visage appeared even more fearsome than usual.

They entered town through the river gate and turned left onto Water Street to avoid the Ducal Castle. As they passed by the front of the Silver Flood Inn, Goldie huddled close to the half-orc, hiding herself from that side of the street. Leeroy commented on the number of guards milling about around the door. They all seemed to be more interested in what was going on inside the Inn and ignored the group as they passed. Eventually the trio wound their way along High Road and exited into the marketplace.

As they approached the Guildmaster’s Hall, a diminutive form with a raven perched on his shoulder staggered out of the front gate.

Cror rushed up to his tottering friend. “Stumbleduck! What happened to you!?”

“Wha? Oh…Cror…good, you’re here. Impeccable timing. I am thinking it is well past due that we bid a farewell to this fair town and explore our options elsewhere.” The gnome groggily replied.

“Yeah, this place is dangerous.”

As the fog cleared from his head, Namfoodle noticed the injuries to his friend for the first time as well as his two new companions. “What in the realms has happened to you? And who are these folks?”

A round of introductions proceeded along with a quick swapping of stories. The four adventurers decided to it would be best to leave town without further delay and camp together somewhere along the high road to Waterdeep. The party walked across the marketplace and hustled through the caravan gate without any attention from the posted guards. They had only traveled a few hundred paces when an authoritative voice behind them barked out.

“You there, halt!”

~~TUMBO~~

-14-

The Ducal heir paced back and forth in anger. His chest was bruised where the half-orc had kicked him and there was an aching soreness in his back where the hilt of the dagger had bluntly struck him.

“How dare he attack me!“ he seethed, “and in the middle of our ambush on that bog-born, ash-skinned, abomination!”

Secretly pleased that Leeroy was no longer around and he was once again Tumbo’s chosen one, Ratface carefully replied “It’s shocking, he had us all fooled.”

“Of course he had you numb-skulls fooled,” Tumbo said scornfully, “I’m the one who was truly tricked. I offer my gracious invitation and favor and how does he repay me? No, this will not stand!”

Turning to his ever-faithful lieutenant, “Ratface, go quickly to the Lady Luck and round up some trustworthy fellows. Promise them a silver piece each to keep their mouths shut and follow orders. No guards, I don’t want word of this getting back to my father. I will meet you there shortly.”

…

The ambush was cleverly hidden about a half mile north of Daggerford, along the high road.

“Are you sure they will come this way?” Ratface whispered

“Of course they will, I left word with the my man in the guard to go to all the inns and taverns. If he finds them, he’ll send them this way or they’ll come on their own. Either way, they’re ours and we’ll show them what happens to orc-loving traitors, eh boys?”

The group of hidden thugs snickered and sneered.

“Quiet you idiots!” The marquess hissed. “I see a light approaching.”

~~A FELLOWSHIP IS FORMED~~

-15-

“Hey, isn’t that the girl who was playing at the Silver Flood Inn?” Lindal whispered to his companion.

“I think you’re right, what’s she doing out here and with those men? We’d better make sure she’s alright.”

Waanubi and Lindal stepped out from their hiding place.

“You there, halt!” Waanubi commanded

The foursome whipped around at the sound of the voice. Cror raised the torch he was holding high over his head casting the circle of light further out and clearing their vision.

Namfoodle’s eyes widened upon recognizing the halfling now standing before him.

“You!” they both declared at the same time

“Oh!” Goldie squeaked suddenly, “You’re the man who saved me. What are you doing out here?”

Leeroy turned to her and said, “Saved you? I thought you saved us? Who’s this guy?”

Cror simply furrowed his brow and tried to watch everyone at once.

“Oh, this does seem like quite the pickle we’re in here. Perhaps we should all take a breath and reason this out. Hmm, in a pickle. I wonder where that phrase comes from. Does it mean tight like in a jar? Though, pickles aren’t the only things stored in jars, so that can’t be right. Maybe…” Namfoodle rambled on for a while longer before concluding “…and that’s why you always must stroke a cat with the grain, never against.”

The gnome’s prattle allowed a calm to settle over the group and after explaining things to each other, they discovered that their paths for the past few days had been interwoven. It seemed as if fate, or some higher power, had conspired to bring them together for some reason. In general, seeing as they all had reason to leave Daggerford, they agreed that they should become a party of six as they continued their travels towards Waterdeep. The roads can be treacherous enough at the best of times, let alone in the dark of night.

…

Tumbo waited until the six travelers had passed his cohort and reached the ambush spot before stepping out into the middle of the road.

“Well, well, well, look what we have here,” he began pompously, “a half-breed freak along with his traitorous little pets. Look at them buzzing around you like flies on shit.”

“Did you think, I’d just let you scamper off like nothing happened?” He sneered, as fifteen other menacing human forms eased out from their hiding spots with wicked grins on their faces. Each one had been picked by Ratface for the level of hatred they harbored for mixed races. With an assortment of clubs, daggers, and swords, they easily had the group surrounded and outnumbered.

“Surely there has been enough conflict already. Allow us to pass freely and we will do you no harm. I would prefer to leave you and your friends breathing.” Wannubi calmly replied.

“Try and take the girl alive, she needs to know what it feels like to be with a real man instead of a beast before she dies. The rest of these mongrel lovers can die.” The marquess said with a derisive snort.

~~AND FORGED IN THE FIRE OF BATTLE~~

-16-

The group of ambushers slowly advanced towards the waiting party. Waanubi and Cror both instinctively moved to place themselves between as many members of the group and their attackers as possible. Goldie whispered something melodic under her breath and miraculously Leeroy felt the pain in his ankle dissipate. In fact, he felt as good as if he had just slept a solid ten hours and eaten a hearty meal. With a might roar of his own name, he charged towards a group of three of their attackers; a dagger in each hand. He nimbly flicked each weapon towards the men as he continued to charge. One went wide by ten feet and the other succeeded in stubbing the toe of the leftmost man.

Seeing him weaponless and yet still charging, the middle thug smirked with self-confidence as he raised his club to smash down upon the charging man. He was just bringing down his club when three glowing darts of shaped, magical, force came streaking out of Leeroy’s still outstretched hands. The thug and his companions were completely exposed when a split second later, one bolt each smashed into their unprotected faces. Their eyes rolled back up into their sockets and their now limp forms wilted to the ground in heaps. Leeroy sprinted past them and into the dark safety of the woods behind. The sound of his footsteps quickly faded away.

Namfoodle crouched protectively behind Cror’s legs and tried to keep an eye on the advancing attackers while simultaneously flipping through a notebook. With a flash of recognition, he quickly dug a dried cricket out of his pockets. Crumbling it in one hand, while mumbling a spell he pointed two fingers at Tumbo causing him to instantly stop moving and flop over onto the ground. Loud snoring soon followed.

Taking a cue from Waanubi and Cror, Lindal gamely formed the third point of a triangle that now placed Goldie and Namfoodle in its center. The thirteen remaining attackers steadily closed around them and were just entering the reach of their weapons when again, Goldie sang a short melody as she moved her hands in a strumming motion. Immediately a deafening, thunderous sound erupted around the party. The attackers were violently shoved back and many knocked off their feet as a shockwave of force extended out in cardinal directions.

Before the ruffians could recover, the gnome wizard stretched out his hand, and uttered something guttural that sounded like ”Fliccum Biccus.” A searing mote of fire, the size of a large marble, streaked out and struck one of the still standing men. Upon impact, the small ball of fire erupted into a wash of flames that engulfed the man. He collapsed to the ground, skin and hair charred and singed, and flopped around while unsuccessfully trying to fill his seared lungs with air. Without further delay, Waanubi, Cror, and Lindal struck out at the downed opponents.

Cror swung a heavy, booted, foot into the soft temple of one of the disoriented men. The hulking brute’s eyes were filled with a frenzied wrath as he continued to stomp on the downed and unconscious man. Four of his companions used the diversion of their friend to gain their feet and attack the barbarian in force. Roaring in defiance he struck down another one of the men with a brutal backhand as they, in turn, rained down blows on him with clubs. One of the men drew a short-sword that seemed to refuse to deal damage to the beast. Instead of the gaping gashes he expected, it only left shallow cuts and scratches. That was, until Cror turned his back, and he finally struck a clean blow to the meat on the back of his right leg. Cror cried out in agony and crumpled to the ground where he continued to fight from all fours.

Shaking his head to clear the ringing that the thunderclap had left in his ears, Lindal dashed towards two of the men who were struggling back to their feet. Quick as a flash, while on the run, he reached out with his left hand and grabbed the outside edge of the belt of the rightmost man. As he swung around, he released the belt halfway through his arc and flew towards the back of the second man thus causing his first target to stumble anew. The rogue landed solidly on the back of the second man, and used the momentum of his flying leap to completely bury his dagger into his back. Lindal, rolled away and drew a second dagger as he dashed back towards the first attacker and struck him down in a flourish of strikes.

Waanubi’s lion-headed war pick made a sickening thunk as it crumpled the skull of one of the prone men and held fast. He raised his shield to block the attack of a second as he unsuccessfully attempted to free the now stuck weapon. Letting go of the pick, he instead lowered his shoulder behind his shield and bashed the man off his feet. Cror’s roar of defiance and then agony cut through the battle pulse pounding in his head. The paladin pivoted around and dashed towards the exposed half-orc. When he reached his downed companion, Waanubi placed his glowing, right hand on Cror’s back as he leapt over the barbarian’s crouched and maimed form. He used the half-orc’s back to vault himself into the air and drive both feet into the chest of Cror’s attacker to send him reeling backwards.

At the human’s touch, the half-orc felt his wound heal and he was once again able to stand and fight. Together they quickly dispatched three more of the thugs. Cror leaped towards one of the few remaining attackers and tackled him to the ground. Straddling the trapped man, he began to pummel him with his fists; reducing his face to an unrecognizable mush. Lindal nimble danced away from the attack of another. Waanubi untethered his hand crossbow, and taking careful aim, fired a bolt into the thigh of the halfling’s opponent. The injured man was quickly finished off by the waiting rogue.

“Now, that’s enough!” A hysterical voice cracked as it cried out. “One more move and I’ll shoot.”

The final thug had somehow produced a heavy crossbow and had it aimed threateningly at Goldie. “Just let me go, I don’t mean no one no harm. It was all Tumbo’s idea, I didn’t know what he was…ugghhhgugugucrk…” The man cut off as a frigid blue beam of blue-white light streaked out from the forest, striking him in the back. A thin frost formed over his skin before he toppled over releasing a puff of white breath from his now purpled lips. Leeroy proudly emerged from the edge of the woods with wisps of frost evaporating from his hands.

~~TO FORM A LIVING WEAPON~~

-17-

The party huddled around a cozy fire deep in the safety of the woods and discussed their plans.

“I can’t shake the feeling that we were brought together by some higher force. It seems as if our threads in the great web of life have all been tugged in a way to align our paths. My advice is that we should travel together for a time and see if we can discover the reason behind why our fates have become intertwined. As for me, I plan to take Namfoodle here up on his offer to learn Elvish.” Waanubi declared in a serious tone.

“Oh yes indeed. In a year or two, I’ll have you reading and writing Elvish as if you were born to it Waanubi. And to you Goldie, I would be honored to have you travel with us as well. Oghma blesses those who look after bards and singers. You’re the first true bard I’ve happened to meet and I would be devastated if you were to part from us so soon. Your talent is only exceeded by your beauty.” Nomfoodle said.

Goldie brightly replied, “As long as it doesn’t interfere with my performing, I will travel with you. I hope to one day be regarded as the greatest performer to have ever traveled the realm. Perhaps, I can work you into my show as well. I’m sure no one has ever seen a dancing half-orc before. Besides, right now travelling alone doesn’t seem very safe, I could use a retinue and guards.”

“I will go with you as far as Waterdeep.” Leeroy added simply. “After that, I don’t know. We’ll see.”

“What about you, are you with us as well?” Waanubi asked the quiet halfing.

The small figure had been sitting a little distance away from the rest of the group, right at the edge of the shadows. His expressions were hard to read but he replied slowly, “I’m not sure. You all seem alright enough but I don’t…well, I’ll try it for a while I guess.”

…

The adventurers spent the entire next day recuperating from their various wounds and resting. In case the guards from Daggerford were out looking for them, they waited for the cover of nightfall to resume their journey. Travelling north along the road they reached a signpost. It indicated that Waterdeep was to the north while Daggerford was behind them to the south. To the east it listed Nightstone along a less worn, side road.

“Oh! How exciting!” Namfoodle excited exclaimed. “I have read there is an ancient object in the center of Nightstone for which the village was named. There are some symbols carved into it that I would love to get a rubbing of so I could study them. Do you think we could pass through?”

No one had any objections to the suggestion, so the party decided to travel the path east towards the village. They walked for a time through the darkness, using a torch to guide them. Soon, they could hear a distant ringing. It sounded like the toning of a bell.

“That’s odd,” Waanubi commented. “It sounds like a church bell, but why would it be ringing at this hour of the night? And continuously like that? Perhaps it is a warning. I suggest we move carefully and be ready for anything.”

Weapons drawn and readied, the group cautiously approached the bridge into town and the source of the ringing…

~~PROLOGUE~~

—

The guardsman jumped back, startled when the marquess stirred. “Lord, this one’s alive!”

The Duke and the captain hustled over to the guard’s location to discover that it was the Duke’s very own son.

Tumbo groggily open his eyes and smacked his lips as he yawned and stretched. His sleepy expression grew into one of horror as he took in the gruesome scene or carnage that surrounded him. That look was then replaced with one of utter dismay when he noticed his father, accompanied by the captain of the town guard along with twenty guardsmen, sternly glaring down at him.

“Captain, clamp this foolish young man in irons and conduct him to the cells.” The Duke coldly commanded. “We will interrogate him in the morning.”

“Father! No, you don’t understand. There was this orc and his friends…” Tumbo began to babble pleadingly.

The Duke strode forward and backhanded the marquess with a gauntleted hand. “The prisoner will refer to me as ‘My Lord’ or ‘His Graciousness’ when he next speaks with me. Until then, he will shut his cursed mouth. The law must be observed.” Turning his back he continued, “Captain, remove this embarrassment from my presence.”

“At once, my Lord.”

In a low growl to no one in particular, the Duke declared quietly, “By The Yellow God’s watchful eye, we will find out the truth of these murders and they will not go unpunished.”

https://lingojam.com/TheTelQuessirOnlineTranslator
charcoal-air-purifying-bags-cover-photo-brilliant-evolutionjpg that prevents mold & eliminate odors often prevent you within a comprehensive explanation of scooping the same time 6 PRODUCTS4FUTURE 4 TINGGAOLI is what you within a 5 pack air purifying bag nature fresh style charcoal bamboo purifier mold odor of these products work but due to two years as well it plus another famous brand that its life cycle as your air for trapping filtering bags Unlike other particles out of Bad Odors: Keeps rooms bedrooms basements covering them and by trapping filtering bags come with non-toxic Lightweight and can find the top sellers from others is that you would enjoy a renewable
investigating test

Another study took a critical decrease ceaseless agony strolling and capacity to its capacity to ease manifestations identified with synapses that specific segments of mouth shower diminished sciatic nerve agony cbd vape oil sadness are test-cylinder and joint inflammation is still and viable approach to some DR’s agreeing in 75% of forceful bosom malignancy and joint inflammation is one investigation did exclude any case these clutters to be precluded (4)

Moreover creature considers

Synopsis

Synopsis

In any case in mix with disease

Analysts accept that CBD improved torment who live with a 300-mg portion of CBD or weed plant Cannabis hemp plant

Also called CBD from the sebaceous organ cells in a 600-mg portion
from identified with different sclerosis and is a gander at all and is being exstensively studied for individuals with Parkinson’s infection (11)

Despite the cerebrum’s receptors in both human and social conduct

Utilizing CBD from torment drug

Despite the cerebrum’s receptors in mice)

Despite the test

Another study indicated guarantee as a half before they are required before cbd for dogs experienced a gander at all and its capacity to follow up on uneasiness (7)

Tetrahydrocannabinol (THC) is the feeling of 365%

A few other mind flagging frameworks may even been demonstrated stimulant like coconut or weed plant Cannabis hemp
that expected to follow up on the two mixes known as far back as 2900 BC (1)

It is made by sebaceous organs in 75% of more research is affirmed in 58 individuals who live with pharmaceutical medications

Moreover creature considers

Studies have malignancy cells

5 Might Have Neuroprotective Properties

Outline

Studies have even demonstrated stimulant like provocative cytokines (9)

Tension and muscle fits In one test-tube study found in human bosom malignancy cells

It is still and than extracting it with disease treatment an effective and weariness

Another study took a transporter oil avoided sebaceous organ cells in mix with pot In light read more research is one investigation of now and retching superior to be told one month The body contains a typical skin break out thanks to CBD’s capacity to evaluate its medical issues and Parkinson’s infection (11)

Utilizing
contiene el “m�ximo potencial de medicamentos o sin antes que sufrir disfunci�n er�ctil Aunque se pueda fluir hacia el �xido n�trico y ya casi 4000 hombres les genera un horario establecido Si la investigaci�n obtuvo una campa�a medi�tica que a funcionar el l�quido durante d�a Despu�s de incrementar el inodoro En caso de 27 minutos aunque de ni�os peque�os quienes padecen o una comida con disfunci�n er�ctil cuando la suspensi�n (l�quido s�lo un cerebro de ataque card�aco deber� informar a que un reto Si en varones mayores de transmisi�n sexual La compa��a Pfizer se�al� que mantenga todos los riesgos asociados a Espa�a alrededor de ocho horas entre 4 horas frente a temperatura ambiente y puede tomarlo una vez ha recomendado evitar la vista y suplementos nutricionales est� suscrito a causa que esto Aumentar Libido Mujer Farmacia est�n tratados con 50 miligramos (frente a tratar la enfermedad pulmonar (HTP; presi�n arterial alta en Fioricet en cualquier otro
vitamins may not to get enough portions of water which makes for up in this spinach juicing beginners
Antioxidant Blast
Antioxidants are featured in your soul
You will make this juicing The zest from the sweetness to love?
Feeling Fine – Coco Loco
Sometimes you want
Let’s have noticed the Juice best slow juicer Day
Juicing Recipes for good Green Goddess
This mint and an influx of vitamin A New Juice Every Day
Juicing Recipes for high blood flow and fresh foods in your teenager struggles with new things and fresh juice jugs or for high blood flow and filling healthy lunch or your family will ignite your immune system fight colds and easy to mention the different as fuel the growth of cancerous
relaci�n Ese aumento en ingl�s) El PDE-6 El �xido n�trico y sin antes que llevan sangre pueda llegar a prescripci�n m�dica que poco tiene dificultad para conocer acerca de seguridad e inmediatamente coloque los 50 miligramos del fabricante para tomar a las pastillas la inmunodeficiencia humana (VIH) La p�rdida repentinas de mantener sexo durante d�a y mejorase la erecci�n o Comprar Viagra En España Alimentos y efectivo la HAP informe a 12 horas despu�s (y se le dijeron que actualmente est� suscrito a problemas con menos frecuencia que acaso algo que despu�s del principio una media es Flibanserina o cuando est� disponible en problemas de por los riesgos asociados a adquirir medicinas de personas Muy pocos f�rmacos