The adventures of Fritii and his Noble Steed Pinky

As a natural wanderer for many years, I had become bored with simply waiting. Bandits never attacked me and, other than the odd scrape with rabid lizards, nothing had challenged me. There were no wars to be fought, no grand charges into amassed infantry columns, no ambushes to evade cleverly, no lonely pioneer towns to defend from local gangs, none of that. It seems I was born during a dull time.

So I was slowly turning into a sot. One evening in Bartertown, however, I overheard a rowdy ragtag group of Namegivers cackling over the riches and fame they had amassed by battling a Horror. Curious, I asked them who they were. One of them, a Dwarf (or a very stout and short Human, I was a bit tipsy at that point and he had a beard) proudly declaimed that they were a band of adventurers. They traveled Barsaive as I did, but rather than wait for adventure to find them, they sought it out through a network of hiring sorts.

Now don't get me wrong, I had heard tales like this as a youngling, but I had thought them fables. Yet here, before me, was a real group of adventurers. The Dwarf/Human then told me some tips on where to look for information and how to ask for it.

The next morning, my head throbbing, I went to the stables to greet and groom my Noble Steed Pinky, and it seems some kind soul had overheard our discussion the night before and had slipped a note in Pinky's feed bag informing me of a group of adventurers who might be looking for a new member, and their general whereabouts. Despite the sun being FAR too bright that morning, I hastily groomed and mounted and Pinky set off for the south.

Our first stop was a small town named Nell's Rock, but it was dull as a stone. One of the villagers informed me of a town further along that had been spoken of locally as having a group of adventurers working in it, a place named Gnarls Barkley. We set off immediately.

When Pinky and I arrived there, there was some sort of tourney going on, but a helpful local informed me that yes, a group of adventurers was in the tourney and it was nearly over. I waited outside and napped in my saddle until I awoke to the sounds of people leaving the tourney. Sure enough, a ragtag band of comrades came out who looked nothing like the local turnip farmers,

Pinky and I introduced ourselves and were welcomed immediately. I was informed that they were going back to Bartertown looking for more adventure. I smiled at the irony and Pinky glared at me until I stopped. But then, like the Noble Steed that he is, he set off following this group with a resigned neigh.

On the way to Bartertown we were passing through Nell's Rock and, shall we say, it had become much more interesting than the last time we had been there. Instead of a rustic village of turnip farmers, it was deserted save for a few corpses of local villagers scattered around a large and colorful tent set up in the square.

We entered to see an odd setup of three little objects. Almost immediately a strange, long limbed dwarf erupted from one of the objects dressed very colorfully, with a huge blister on the tip of its nose. It bounced between the objects while making attacks at us for a bit, until finally the stout dwarf dispatched it.

We burned everything, spent the night, and proceeded to Bartertown. We spent a week or two there while the more accomplished fellows I had joined up with met their respective trainers. I, of course, spent most of my time stomaching hurlg and asking around my favorite public house for any information as to where adventure could be found. Eventually, I got a tip of a homestead to the north plagued by some sort of beastly highwayman or something.

I informed the other adventurers and, once they were ready, we set out immediately. We found the homestead fairly easily by the beast-knawed corpses piled on the sides of the road. I immediately set up watch across the road in a small copse, and the stout Dob joined me, while the other Elf and the wee weird Windling set up watch in a small orchard in the compound of the family of dwarves who lived there.

Once night fell, a small parade of dwarven cadavermen came out of the house and shambled to the road. Pinky and I, of course, immediately charged. A battle ensued where I was knocked unconscious. A few days later I awoke thanks to the ministrations of the Elf Vaugn (no criticism of his abilities in general, but in battle he seemed more intent on tickling the creatures rather than slaying them.)

After some days of investigation which I deemed unnecessary, the adventurers finally agreed to burn the homestead to the ground. Unfortunately, the dwarves woke the next morning and immediately began rebuilding. I suspect there must be some Horror with a vested interest in keeping these night terrors alive. It's also unfortunate that I have no idea where, or even WHAT this Horror may be. But I tire of all this needless scribbling and I must attend to Pinky's glorious mane.