The Alfhiem party knew that they could not return to Darokin. Not only were there thousands and thousands of Goblinoids about, but our heroes were branded deserters and would most likely be executed. They decided to make their way through the forest of Alfhiem, and progress towards Krameikos, were they could join an adventures guild, stay out of the northern war, and stick to profiteering.

Ulrich and Despot were the two who had slight reservations about this. Ulrich, perpetually disgusted with the spaghetti-ium of the Bureaucracy, was just as disenchanted with the treatment of people and soldiers in this war as the rest. But Darokin was his home, and silently he vowed to return one day, and clear his name. Despot was not concerned with better treatment or government. For the entire 30 years of his young life, he had been an outcast, a target. Never had he even dreamed of anything beyond the cold hard streets, and this adventure was a welcomed break form his miserable routine. Orphaned at birth and alone for life, the young dwarf took to crime like a fish to water. After discovering his powers, he took to madness, and often had difficulty controlling and sharpening them. Despot did not fully trust his new partners, especially Ulrich. Vivid memories of vicious police beatings haunted Despot's dreams, and he would not mind killing Ulrich in his sleep.

As for Kinjitsu and Doggirl, they were happy to be out of Darokin, and regretting they ever came. Doggirl, like Ulrich, was on a quest of penance and self-discovery. Kinjitsu was searching the world over for items of power. His quest was to become powerful, learn as much as he could from as many places as he could, and one day, rise to the top of his clan.

The grass laden plains of Darokin disappeared under our heroes' feet, as they rode into the light outer-growth of the forest of Alfhiem. As far as the eye could see a dense wall of trees lay before them blocking out the eastern horizon. Around them there began to be more and more trees, each bigger and thicker than before. Slowly, the sun seemed to stop shining, and the world became a place of shadows and green hued light. Doggirl ran up a tree and howled into the echoing wilderness. They had entered Alfhiem.

Doggirl was overjoyed at first to be back into what she considered to be a more familiar environment. The party followed her, as she was the only one among them with foresting skills. She lead the party over and through the brush, using her apt senses to guide them. Deeper and deeper they journeyed into the forest, and the stranger it became for Doggirl. No longer did the trees have a recognizable scent, and in fact, that scent seemed to change. Doggirl went ahead of the party by about 20 yards and discovered a set of foot prints, HER OWN! Too late Diggirl realized that this place was as strange to her as Darokin city. She led the party away from her own tracks, hoping not to have the party lose confidence in her abilities. Doggirl said a prayer to her Goddess of the Hunt, and moved on.

The forest of Alfhiem can be a treacherous place, and the Alfhiem party faced death at every turn. Lost without any guide, and bewildered at the immensity of the magical home of the elves, the Alfhiem party met with and prevailed over many obstacles. They came across huge schools of flying piranha, Goblinoid deserters fleeing into the shaded sanctuary of the forest, and packs of Giant Shrews, known commonly as ROUSes. And though the party bravely marched on through, hoping to reach the southern end and then a straight ride to Krameikos, each encounter weakened them. It wasn’t long before the entire party was ill, wounded, and too hungry to last another day. And just when things seemed their worst, Giant Tiger beetles came pouring out of every crevice. These nasty things snatched the heroes up and brought them to their master’s lair.

The party awoke in a cold, dank, and dimly lit earthen room. They were laying on their backs, strapped down to thin metal beds with wheels, not unlike operating tables. An evil Galantrian wizard was scheming to take Elven slaves for labor in his home principality. But alas, he got two humans, a dog thing, and a twisted dwarf. The party was separated, interrogated, and threatened with being sent to the terrible "Level C." Kinjitsu was the first to undergo the tortures to be found there, and Despot was scheduled to be next. Kinjitsu was wheeled down many a corridor, and desperately tried to keep his direction sense active that he could find his way back to the others. Finally, the Goblinoid henchman of the wizard brought Kinjitsu to the "Level C," and there Kinjitsu underwent a series of brainwashing techniques orchestrated by a large black blob. The black blob could form mouths in its horrid shape such that it could speak, and tentacles would reach out and grab what it needed.

Before the blob could break and have it’s way with Kinjitsu’s mind, a group of brave Alfhiem rangers broke into the Dungeon fortress, and began smashing the Goblinoids, wizards and beetles. One squad was lead by Dalron, a human orphan found and raised by the elves. Dalron's squad infiltrated the menacing "Level C." Dalron's squad met with the Black Blob, and it hurled pieces of itself at them. None of the elves' attacks seemed to phase it, and the more they struck at it, the more ferocious it grew. In the first few minutes of the fight, 4 of the 12 elves in Dalron's squad were struck and had succumb to the acidic properties of the Blob's projectiles. Dalron made a bold move, and attacked the Blob with fire. It worked, and the Blob howled in pain, anguish and finally death as the fire spread over and consumed it. Kinjitsu was freed. Amazingly Kinjitsu had memorized the path he was taken down into "Level C," and led Dalron's squad to the rest of the Alfhiem Party. They were freed and left the slavers' dungeon with Dalron.

Dalron did not know what to make of his the outlanders he had rescued. They seemed to come from different corners of the world, spoke the Common tongue with thick accents. Two seemed to be distinctly Darokinian, urban at that. Their weak grasp of common grammar and etiquette made Dalron's ears wince. The other two were from the outskirts of the Known World, and struck curiosity in his rangers, who had never been outside the great forest. Never the less, the distinct stench of Orcan blood wretched Dalron's senses as it emanated from their tattered clothes. Clothes, though in shambles and decay, bared the unmistakable mark of the Republic of Darokin. It became apparent that these strangers were deserters, and this displeased Dalron to no end. He command his company to grab them up, and march them straight to the Tower of General Saha.

It was no easy march, in these troubled times. The forest was being twisted from the inside out, and wickedness was running amuck. Disgusted with burden placed upon him by protecting these deserters and wary of the journey, Dalron became embittered toward the pack of would-be adventurers he had rescued.