You fail to see how anyone could consider this pleasant.

The inceasant sound of crickets chirping and of birds singing. The brilliant light from the horizon. It all gave a well-meaning dwarf a headache. And squinting all day was making your eyes ache. Gripen about yer head; some adventurer you are. C'mon, your grandfather didn't raise no Krish.

And so you head off north-east along the Kamloops road yet again. Eight days, so far, and one about one left. Perhaps you'll reach the city by evening, if the trail leads mostly downward as it has been. The first three days of travel had been torturously slow affairs, your legs turning to jelly after three days of virtually climbing the trail to the city of Gursin's End. Since then though, the trails have been mostly downhill, with only a few extra hours of uphill walking.

Four phases come and go (Information on phases will be posted soon). The sun stops climbing in the sky, and begins its decent. Not wanting to take to much time out of the day, you decide to only stop for a fifteen minute rest, and begin walking again with a full stomach and a tune on your lips.

"Excuse me, sir, but could you tell me where a good dwarf could find a nice warm meal in a nice warm atmosphere. You see, I was only here once long ago, as a very wee lad..."

The thoughtful look on the Krish's face makes you giggle, if dwarves giggled, of course. Instead, you try to stifle the smile by frowning, but the Krish takes this as a look of impatience.

"Well, ah, sur, uh, I go to the Swineherd's Galla, um, but I guess you asked for a decent meal, didn't you? Um, I guess you could try Rath's Blessing, toward the center of town. There's plenty of good company to be had there, and you won't have your meal interrupted as often with petty fights."

"And is there a temple of Alyssa in town, good sir?" You say, trying to seem a little less gruff.

"Of course, my friend. The Light shines on this village. There's a temple on the Northeast edge of town, and another a half-days travel down Lorin Road."

You thank the farmer, and he presses his ox and cart down the road again. Continuing down the road in the direction he indicated, you enjoy the feeling of accomplishment that goes with finally completing a long journey. It's rare for you to get away from Dark Mountain. In fact until months ago, there was no way your responsibilities would allow you to get away. But your grandfather was very receptive when you brought to him the idea of going out and regaining your family's wealth, rather than doing the bookwork to see how fast it was dwindling.

The shanties and shacks and plot of lands of the outer city begin to give way to the odd architecture of the inner city. A melange of Krish Half-holes, which make way into Elven Tree-homes, and the ever present Human concrete. A city above ground is a city vulnerable. Any enemy could find his way in here and cause all manner of trouble. If Kamloops found an enemy, that is. The city was notoriously neutral though, the government as lenient as any on Tal'shiare.

The sounds of raucous laughter and a sign depicting a man kneeling before a king indicate the end of your travels at last. You enter the three story tavern, a grin lighting up your face. A good inn will always be obvious, Ulrik. The barkeep will be round, and his apron will be clean. If your grandfathers words hold as much wisdom as you give him credit for, this will be a truly fine inn, indeed.

You navigate your way around the tables and chairs of assorted sizes, around the many smiling faces of the patrons, to the obese barkeep.

"A room and a meal tonight please, my good man."

The mans disarming smile warms you. "Of course, friend. What type of room would you like? I have two rooms with half-size beds left, but you look like a dwarf that would appreciate something a little larger than that. A full bed and food is a mere 3 gp per night."

Humans amaze you. You don't understand how a man could charge three gold for lodging and call you friend in the same utterance. Grudgingly, however, you accept.

Most of the tables in the tavern are full, though a few sporting shady characters dot the room, glares sending away any glances that fall on them. So, finding an empty table, you order a drink and wait for your meal. Memories drift home, and you wonder when the next time you'll see Dark Mountain will be. A few weeks, at least.

"Hullo, wee one! Might I join ye for a bite?" A human sailor stands before you, scar splitting his seemingly friendly face diagonally. A mass of long dark hair frames his face, but his friendly smile seems to offset his mean look.

A phase shakes the air.

You invite him to sit, and introductions are made. He introduces himself as Captain Balor, of the riverrunner Crest. Over dinner (and a few too many drinks) he relates to you tales of his travels to the New World. He tells you tales of big, dark elves called Necro-Elves, Ruby mines of untold riches. He tells of you his most recent trip back, when he was confronted by a huge Dragon Turtle that almost sank his ship. He tells you of the Lords of the New World, Blankish and James, and how they disappeared months ago, leaving, of all people, a newspaper editor in charge.

The evening grows deep, and it doesn't take long for the ale and abundant food to get to your senses. Giving your leave to the now drunken captain, you drag yourself up the stairs to your room, and pass blissfully off to sleep.

****

Crashing noises outside. Too much light in the room. What's that smell?

Shaking your head, you rise from your bed to the door that leads to the tavern. Outside, a door lies open, and at the foot of it lies a man, the pool of blood under his body growing. Other than the many doors now opening, the hall is quiet.

Smoke, fire! Finally understanding what your nose has been telling you, you begin to head back into your room, only to find a dagger and letter embedded into your door. Peering from your doorway out the window, you see fire and smoke coming from the Northeast edge of town.

Putting down the parchment you take a moment to clear your head. Just when you thought the night was over, it turns out it has just begun. What else is new.