The party began out of Saha's Citadel, and traveled west towards "The Gate," an elvish Maginon Line to protect the interior of the Canolbereth Forest from the dangers of the human world. Now that the majority of the party was more experienced with the forest, they could avoid schools of flying piranha, beetles, and the growing bad magic points. Not all encounters were avoidable, but ended quickly in the party's favor. Half way to their destination, the party discovered a Goblin wearing the markings of Thar's Legion. The party snuck around, and grabbed him before he even knew they were there. At first the party assumed he was but another deserter, and sought to kill him quickly, but after searching his belongings, fresh rations (as fresh as goblins carry anyway), maps of the region, and a coded message, they decided that this little enemy was no coward but a spy or a messenger. Dalron decided to interrogate him. Dalron instructed Kavinau to ask the goblin questions, when the goblin refused to answer, the situation turned violent. They carried him back along their path until they came to a clearing. They stripped the goblin down, and bore his bare flesh against the bright noon sun. They Goblin screamed and cursed as the sun's harsh rays burned his under-dweller skin. The goblin spouted out in his guttural language, and Kavinua translated. Dalron had had doubts, would the Blood Mage tell the truth, or "embellish" upon the goblin's words? Dalron decided Kavinau knew the consequences of lying at this point, and this low-ranking goblin spy had little to offer the Blood Mage, thus he would tell mostly the truth. As Kavinau translated for him, the goblin confessed to being a messenger, but swore he could not read the message. When asked the message's destination, the Goblin pointed to a spot on one of his maps. With that, Dalron dispatched the creature.

The party arrived at "The Gate" early the next morning. Dalron met with the ranger commander there, and showed him the intelligence gathered from the goblin spy. The spot on the map to which the goblin pointed was dead center in a bad magic area, but the two rangers had no idea how one goblin would make it through all the horrors there, nor who was on the inside to meet him. Dalron made a copy of the map and message, and gave them to the commander. Then, he was introduced to his reinforcements. Azoyo and Volarus, two rangers from the Krameikos forests. They had enlisted to help fight the scourge consuming Alfheim. They were only aware that they were not preceding on a mission to escort a caravan through the broken lands, but that the caravan was a cover story, and their destination was in Galantri City. Information was given on a need to know basis, and right now that was all they needed to know.

On the Darokin side of the Gate was a gathering of humans and pack animals. The strange sight got the attention of many elves. The gathering appeared to be a loosely organized carnival. The party looked out at these humans, and sighed deeply as they realized it was their caravan. The caravan was poorly outfitted for a trail through the broken lands. Almost none of the travelers were professional traders or trail blazers, the majority falling into the classification of curio merchants, bards, clowns, and various other carnival sort. There were a few wagons that contained valuable merchandise, supplies, and weapons, but not many. The Gate of Alfheim opened wide for this motley spectacle, and the party rode out to begrudgingly join the circus.

An older Thyatian man stepped forward and introduced himself as Davious Keen, the Merchant King. He asked what the party called themselves, and the party bickered in whispering voices until Dalron spoke out loud that the party had no name. "Well, that's something you'll hafta remedy isn't it," mused Davious as he stroked his beard in confusion, "Can't get a reputation in this line of work without a name I imagine."

Stepping out of the crowd came a tall warrior armoured in a piecemeal style, with each piece etched with unique designs. The warrior introduced himself Rodger Kraken, a Mercenary. Azoyo asked him if he was the captain of the guard for this caravan, and Kraken replied he wasn't paid enough to take on that role, but if their were a leader among them, it would be him. The tall warrios removed helm to reveal an older face, full of scars and sour expressions. He stared Azoyo in the eye and told him that this caravan didn't stand a shot in the abyss of making it through the broken lands. Dalron chimed in to ask how many fighting men were accompanying this bunch. "Sixteen and myself," replied Kraken, solemnly. Dalron stood aghast. He looked back toward Alfheim and thought to himself, "You really expect the impossible don't you!" Dalron called to the rest of his party, and told them to fall in. Their numbers had to help support this caravan, and hope it made it's way through the long journey ahead.

The organizers of the caravan had a very hard time enlisting men due to the war. They perceived the unnamed party as a elite squad of Alfheim's finest warriors, and treated the party accordingly. Little did they suspect that these individuals were not the crack troops they had been made out to be, and that the entire caravan was considered by the party as "Expendable," as it was just a rouse to get Dalron into Galantri.

The caravan totaled at 300 entertainers and merchants, 17 fighting men (including Rodger Kraken), the 8 party members, 70 full wagons pulled by 140 horses, and 40 free horses.

The caravan crossed through the green plush country side of Darokin. They used the major roads, and traveled through many farms. Children came running up to the caravan, some behaving well and in awe of the entertainers, asking if the circus was in town. Others misbehaved, tried to steal things, etc... The caravan proceeded north, with few difficulties aside from disappointing locals by not stopping in their towns.

The caravan now crossed through the war torn provinces of Darokin. Dead bodies everywhere, stinking, rotting. The people of the caravan stuck fabric in their noses to prevent the smell from nauseating them.

The caravan came across a rag-tag bunch of Darokin conscripts and their commander, recently routed by the Legion. The commander eyed the caravan, and informed them that they were all conscripted now, and the his men greedily eyed the fortunes inside the wagons. The Dalron stared down the commander, and asked him to think twice before starting a fight, he then instructed the caravan to keep moving, and the commander decided not to take on the 25 fighting man team, nor their 300 merchants.

Soon, the green plush of the Darokin countryside under the party's feet gave way to hard flat rock and dust. The sky was often black with storm clouds, brown from dust clouds, or an eerie red that the party was at a loss to explain. The horizon told a horrific tale of earthquakes, volcanoes, and jagged barren earth. Just ahead lay the Broken Lands. Kraken stopped the caravan and spoke to the entire lot :

"I don't know what you people expect to find from here on in, but let me make a few things clear. I have been paid to cross this barren waste, with or without you. There will be no search parties, so don't set off by yourselves to look around, explore any interesting caverns, or in any other way separate yourselves from this congregation and get lost! Do not, under any circumstances, pick up bones, relics, or anything you may find innocently laying on the ground. Ahead lay the Broken Lands, and any virtue of innocence this place possessed was spoiled eons ago. Do not engage the enemy with out me, my men, or the Alfheim party. Now, stay quiet, stay together, and let's hope for luck."

The caravan pressed on towards the Broken Lands. The ground was very flat, but a thick haze skewed their vision as they looked north, towards their destination. Mounted lookouts rode ahead and behind the caravan. Ulrich, Kinjitsu, and Dog-Girl were on such a lookout party, when they saw the strangest thing. There was a wolf, a Dire Wolf like the ones used in the Battle of Darokin city. It's low bark and snarl made them shiver with memories of that terrible day. Atop of the beast rode a Goblin, dressed red and black armor designed to look like scales. He seemed to be scouting the area. He saw the trio, kicked his mount, and went riding off. Ulrich, Dog-Girl, and Kinjitsu went after him. They chased he and his mount down. The dire wolf frothed at the mouth, and the Goblin swung his sword wildly. The party members whipped out their bows, and were excellent marksmen after having been trained by the elves. The dire wolf was shot 8 times before it finally died, collapsing upon and pinning it's master. The triumphant trio looked down at their quarry, a bonified Goblin Knight of Thar's Legion. They dragged the goblin behind them, and met up with the other party members. They interrogated the Goblin, but to no avail as he did not respond. The caravan had set up camp, despite profound objections by Kraken that they should keep moving, so the party decided to set up camp as well. Later that night, an invisible stalker was sent to kill the Goblin Knight along with the knight's captors, lest he reveal secrets of the legion. The stalker ripped through covered wagons, searching for his prey. Frightened merchants scurried away as an invisible force tore through their belongings in a most violent manner. The party, stirred from sleep rushed out to meet the menace. Then the stalker was defeated, mostly by Dog-girl and her keen sense of smell. While the event ended with the party victorious, the entire caravan packed up and decided to take Kraken's advice, "never stop to rest in the Broken Lands."

They decided to keep the Goblin Knight as a prisoner, bargaining chip, and what ever else he might be useful for. As dawn arose, the people of the caravan looked around them and saw their surroundings had drastically changed. On either side of them were tall spires of jagged rock, some of them smoking. Rocks lay strewn about everywhere, and the wagons bumped up and down as they rode over them. The very ground was as jagged as a predator's teeth. Odd creatures flew over head, and the rocks around them seems to move, as if there were creatures behind them scurrying into the earth. The caravan had entered the Broken Lands.