The morning disappeared and the afternoon passed quickly. A brightly uniformed member of the Darokin Diplomatic Corps brought Cronwyn's horse and a few belongings. The merchant explained the situation and then sent the man back to the rest of his troop. They would join with the reserves after all. Sometime later Malthus and Rodrick appeared bringing their possessions and Turadyl's. Rodrick led his warhorse along with the elf's lighter mount. Malthus led his horse and unfortunately had somebody else with him. It was Meltar with Alexander close behind. The cleric apologized before Turadyl could even open his mouth. "I'm sorry. I told them we were heading north and he insisted on coming."

Rodrick was as red as a tomato. "He's not coming with us!" The warrior's voice echoed around the river banks. It was now early afternoon and the village was deserted and uncommonly quiet. Only the odd complaint from the horse about the heat, and the clicking of the insect life. The sun seemed to beat down on the muddy flow that was the river and evaporate it before their eyes. The muggy conditions only raised Rodrick's anger. Turadyl moved to intercede.

"I'm sorry Meltar, but you will have to find your own way north. What business do you have there anyway?"

The mage lowered his head. For the first time Turadyl noticed that Meltar wasn't smiling his sickly sweet smile. He looked Turadyl in the eyes honestly. "I know about the map as well Turadyl. I want to help. Now that I see the way to do it."

It was Alexander who interrupted. Turadyl would have heard it first but he was concentrating on Meltar. So it was Alexander's young ears who picked it up instead. "What's that he asked?" As the rest of them strained they could hear it. It was a low throbbing sound, like a distant muffled drum beat. The crickets and frogs stopped their cacophony and everything was suddenly eerily still.

"Perhaps its the reserve force north west of us marching in cadence," says Cronwyn hopefully.

Rodrick shook his head. "They weren't travelling to any drum. I think we have company coming. Turadyl, can you check it out the same way you did last night?"

The elf shook his head. "I haven't re-learnt the spell. There hasn't been a chance for me to rest yet."

The sound grew louder and a rhythmic regular beating could be heard even more distinctly. The elf's eyes, being sharper than the rest, peered into the sun that was beginning to set. It seemed as though something was moving in the air, silhouetted against the sun. He quickly pointed out the shape to the rest of the party. By this stage the movement of wings was also visible.

Cronwyn stared at the approaching creature in awe, then stumbled to get ready. Rodrick joined him, pulling on his breastplate as Cronwyn donned his chain mail. Meltar looked up and muttered, "Alexander, time to get out of the way. Go see to the animals. Alexander can hardly take his eyes of the beast. "See to the animals... Good idea." The young student almost fell over himself in his effort to get out of harms way.

As it drew nearer, the creature did not seem large enough to be a dragon. Pormas sat below on the raft and rocked back and forwards moaning. "Its not coming that way, no it couldn't possibly be coming this way!" The raftsman muttered, "What could it possibly want over here?". He looked suspiciously at his new employers.  The tension was finally too much for him. With a splash he disappeared into the water and was lost from view.

The creature could now be made out clearly. It was smaller that a dragon, but similar with two powerful legs and a long tail. Sitting on it back was a human figure. The pair continued on until they crashed to the ground about three hundred yards from the party with a cloud of dust. It had strong legs and a long tail mounted with a poisonous barb. "Wyvern," Rodrick muttered.

"Hold your ground," muttered Cronwyn. "We don't know he's hostile yet." His diplomatic corps training was obviously still in effect, much to Rodrick's disbelief.

The figure riding on the back of the wyvern was dressed in dark robes. He seemed to be occupied with something for a few seconds. Then with a piercing scream he raised a clenched fist. The wyvern lurched forward into a sprint, its wings beating for balance. It was heading straight for the party.

"Great Halav's Ghost! It appears they mean us harm!" Malthus understated. With a few words and a clenching of his holy symbol he leap forward to touch Cronwyn on the arm. "May Halav protect you," he said. Meanwhile, Meltar was also gathering his magical forces.

A low drone began to come from his lips as he stepped out in front of the party. His eyes rolled back into his head and he raised his right hand. Huge flames began to collect into a ball in his palm. With a heave he lobbed the ball in the general direction of the wyvern. As soon as the streak of flame left his fingertips it arched towards the beast as if of its own will. Seeing its impending doom the creature twisted its body to avoid the missile. The movement coupled with the explosion sent its rider falling to the ground with a scream. The corpse twitched for a second then lay unmoving. The wyvern was now enraged. It leap forward to destroy the source of its pain.

Then it was Turadyl's turn to strike. He motioned with his hands and uttered several arcane syllables, although they were less grand sounding than Meltar's. A static charge built up around the party until it was almost painful. The hair on Malthus' forearms stood up in response. A crash sounded then a blinding flash of lightning screeched from the sky and pierced the creature.

The wyvern stumbled, its heart stopping instantly from the smoking hole scorched in its chest. Its momentum carried it sideways into a small hut where it crashed into a wall and stopped. The insects were silent as the party watched it smoulder.

Cronwyn watched in awe and slowly lowered his rapier. "Lets go clean up the..."

"Trolls!" Alexander screeched as he appeared from the village. Three trolls, unnoticed during the chaos lunged into the midst of the party, claws and teeth tearing.

The front rank bore the brunt of the damage. Cronwyn deftly parried his opponent's attack. He avoided most of the initial onslaught but caught a claw on his chest. Rodrick was hit full strength on his stomach, but his plate mail took most of the impact. Turadyl fared much worse. The elf had fought trolls before, but these were different. They attacked with stunning speed, and moved as fast as a galloping horse. "Careful!" Screamed the elf, "They've been enchanted... Oof!"

Turadyl's lungs emptied of air as one of the creatures pushed straight past his defence and shoved him of his feet. The elf's blade pierced the creature through its leg, but it didn't even seem to notice. Once the demi-human was on the ground the beast pinned him with its arms and then bit into his shoulder. The elf reeled in agony as his wound from his previous encounter reopened.

The rest of the party didn't notice Turadyl's predicament for a second. Malthus took a step back and yelled out "Blessed be Halav and all who fight with him!" The rest of the party felt a warmth spread through them.

Cronwyn swung his sword wildly, not trying to connect with anything but make enough room to use his swordplay. He managed to force the nearest troll back a few feet, and then lunged at its calf muscles in an attempt to slow it down.

Rodrick was stunned by the blow but quickly regained his senses. A huge fury grew within him and he bellowed as he knocked the troll of balance with a quick turn. The space allowed him to strike a deep blow into the troll's arm. It roared more in anger than pain. The warrior glanced across and saw that Turadyl was down. Rodrick leapt across and with a word his sword sprung into flames. He brought the weapon down on the arching troll's back.

The troll that had attacked Rodrick recovered quickly and moved to spring after him. It never moved. Malthus swung his mace into its face with his full force behind it. The creature's excuse for a nose caved in with a gush of blood. It stumbled back with a howl.

Meltar was also busy. "Get behind me boy!" He bellowed. With another call to his magical strength he waved his hand calmly at the attacking trolls. In an instant they slowed down as if moving through treacle. "Only way to fight magic is with magic..." He muttered. With a gesture a series of glowing missiles flung out and slammed into the hide of the beast on top of Turadyl. This damage in addition to the pain caused by Rodrick's flaming sword was too much. The creature reared back and raced away on all fours until it could right itself.

The creature which Malthus was pounding in the face was half blinded by the blood. The cleric was unrelenting in his assault and the brute fled.

That left the one troll attacking Cronwyn. The merchant was holding his own, but every wound he inflicted healed in seconds. On the other hand, the troll was unable to get past the Darokin's well trained guard. The beast saw his comrades leaving, and Cronwyn's surrounding him. With one last roar it struck out and Cronwyn retreated a half step to keep his stance. The troll turned and started to sprint in the direction of the village. None in the party wanted to follow them.

Malthus was quick to place his hands on Turadyl's shoulder. A few words, and some of the elf's wounds closed over, although not all. "Its the best I can do," the cleric apologised. "That was my last healing spell."

"I'll be fine," said Turadyl. "Just help me stop the bleeding."

Malthus bandaged the elf while the rest of the party finished loading the supplies. This included Alexander who was almost beside himself with excitement. He played out the battle while praising everyone, especially Meltar. "Master! Can you teach me that fire ball spell? Sssshrooosh! BOOM! Now that's what I call magic!"

The dark robed mage was quiet as usual, although he did almost give the boy a half smile. "In good time... My student."

It was Cronwyn who noticed that they were one short. "Where is Pormas?" he queried. "He I am!" said Pormas while hoisting himself up from the raft. The tiny man was dripping wet and shuddering from whether from the cold water or fear it was hard to tell. "Thanks for the offer, but I've changed my mind. I'm not going now, OK? You lot are mad going anywhere. You don't need me, you need a head doctor or something." he said with some force. Pormas shrugged and looked at Cronwyn and Rodrick. "Right, I'm off then."

Neither of the two fighters made a move to stop him. "There goes a brave man." said Rodrick. "Say hello to the trolls for me." Pormas stopped dead in his tracks.

"Pormas!" said Cronwyn. "The rest of the trip will not be like this. This encounter was totally due to bad luck. No one could have known that we were beginning our journey. Please, as you have seen we can take care of you. Come with us."

Pormas was either convinced or too scared to leave alone. "Well, all right then. But if things get worse I'm turning around. Either that or I'm going to need more gold." He added under his breath.

Turadyl excused himself for a second, and headed of to check the body of the wyvern and the man who had been riding it. When Meltar saw that the elf was going in this direction, he was quick to join him. They creature was of no interest, and they reached the body of the dead man at the same time.

Not much had survived the blast. Turadyl pushed aside the remains of the man's scorched robes and found a pouch with around fifty gold pieces in it. Trying to not feel like a grave robber, he also removed a ring from the man's finger. It was studded with a few small jewels. Meltar, meanwhile, was interested in something else. Around the corpse's neck was a small amulet carved out of an unusual black stone the shape of a skull. Two shinning red jewels had been set for its eyes. As the mage reached out and touched it, there was the noise of a small spark, like static electricity. Meltar gave an involuntary start. Turadyl looked up worriedly, "Are you all right?" he asked. Meltar looked back at him and smiled. The amulet was entirely enclosed in his hand. "Fine, Turadyl," he said. "Just fine."

They both returned and Turadyl showed the ring and gold to the rest of the group. He threw the gold to Pormas. "Here you are boatman, a down payment!" The villager caught the pouch and stashed it away. They agreed that Turadyl should hang onto the ring until it was found whether it had magical properties or not. The problems began when Malthus asked to inspect at the amulet. Meltar refused straight out to even let him see it.

"It's simple cleric! I killed the man and therefore I get first choice of his possessions. I choose the amulet."

Malthus opened his mouth as if to start an argument, but Cronwyn intercepted him. "Do not waste your breath Padre. And do not worry either. You have months ahead of you to argue about this! Lets just get the raft loaded."

The raft was quickly loaded as everybody worked together. Meanwhile Alexander prepared a hearty broth. Everyone gathered round for the final meal of the day. "I suppose this means you are coming with Meltar." Turadyl simply stated. "I will come with you to do what I can for our country elf." The mage answered. Malthus and Cronwyn did not look disturbed, but Rodrick was not happy.

The party agreed to start out at dawn the next morning.

The next day the party woke with the sun rise. The golden glow in the eastern spread over the roofs of the village and made the scavengers feasting on the wyvern scuttle about. One such creature, about the size of a small dog strayed too close to the camp. It did not live to regret it. Turadyl placed a well aimed arrow through its heart and Meltar turned it into a delicious breakfast.

Pormas was a little more enthusiastic that morning. "Yeah. Must have been a stray group of stray evil doers. We probably won't have any more trouble for the rest of the trip." He muttered while trying to convince himself.

The raft proved easy to manoeuvre. The sail provided the main method of propulsion and the poles were used to push and steer away from obstacles. Pormas proved to be a very capable boatman and was able to pick the lie of the river very well. He avoided shallow part soft the river and other hazards such as waterlogged logs almost without thinking.

The next few days passed without problem and Pormas moved the raft up the river at a steady twelve miles a day. Each sunset the party pulled up the raft and posted a watch for the day.

Malthus also proved his worth early on in the trip. With his healing magic he was quickly able to heal the warriors and Turadyl to full health over a few days. He also found a pebble and enchanted it so that it glimmered with a pale glow that stretched out to thirty feet. He placed it in an old lantern so that the shutters could be used to either direct the light or shut it off totally. In a stroke of genius he tied it to a rope and lowered it into the river. Pormas then used it to illuminate the bottom of the river.

Rodrick looked at the clerics idea and quietly commented. "Good idea." With that he turned back and settled himself on the raft, trying to escape from the muggy heat.

Meltar and Turadyl pored over the respective items they had recovered from the fallen rider. Turadyl declared that the ring was magical, but the dark mage would not answer any question about his new possession. In fact, if it was possible it seemed that he became even more withdrawn on the journey, hardly talking even to Alexander. After the raft was beached on day, Rodrick and Malthus discussed this.

"I still think it was a mistake to even let him come with us." Rodrick said. "We need to be able to trust everyone on this journey one hundred percent."

The more easy going cleric shrugged. "I don't think that he means evil, although his methods are disputable. When he told us that he wanted to come to help save the Eastland’s, his heart seemed to be in it." The old cleric chuckled, "In any case, it is too late to send him home now!"

The warrior seemed to be happy to leave it at that, although he continued to keep a close eye on the robed man. It was then that Turadyl made his discovery. "I have it!" The elf exclaimed. When his companions gathered round him he pointed at the ring on his finger. "I didn't figure it out till I sat down and memorised my spells this morning. It somehow lets me memorize another lightning bolt spell, like the one I cast in the village. These is certainly a useful treasure."

As a group they agreed to let Turadyl keep it, since he was the only one able to use it besides Meltar, who was too preoccupied to even bother taking a look. The ring was a permanent fixture on Turadyl's finger from the next morning onwards.

The journey continued without disturbance for the next week or so. The river side continued by, the tall reeds broken only occasionally by a gentle brook pushing through them. The party took turns poling, although Pormas was always on duty to guide them. His help proved more and more useful as the party went up river. The route became difficult to find as the main stream sometimes split into smaller tributaries. Pormas was always definite in this case on which way to go. In fact the boatman was navigating the raft through one of these openings when suddenly it stopped suddenly.

"Huh?" exclaimed Pormas. "That shouldn't have happened. We are in at least ten feet of water here."

Cronwyn was unconcerned. "The raft is probably just lodged on the bottom. I'll check." The fighter got on his arms and legs and peered into the murky water over the edge. "Hang on. I think I can see something... Gasp!" The merchant's words were cut off as a thick green tentacle suddenly sprung out of the water's surface and wrapped around his neck. One of the man's hands grabbed at it, while the other clawed at the side of the raft, trying to stop himself being pulled over.

Cronwyn was unable to raise the alarm, but Pormas had been watching. "Tumble weed!" he screamed, while heading for the other side of the raft. Malthus and Alexander were the closest. The young mage linked his small arms around Cronwyn's feet, while the cleric raised his hammer with one arm and started raining blows down on the tentacle. The rest of the party did not need to be told there was a problem. Meltar was grabbed around the ankle before he could even move, Rodrick's arm went to his sword but was unable to draw it before a tentacle linked itself around his chest. His arm was trapped there.

Turadyl was quick enough to move away from the edge. "What is this?" he yelled before summoning several magical arrows and flinging them at the branch holding Rodrick. The tentacle only shuddered slightly. Rodrick was lifted of the deck and suddenly another green stem wrapped itself around his waist. The pair started to move the fighter towards the surface of the water. With one last desperate fling, Turadyl muttered a few magical words and grabbed onto the man's ankle, just before Rodrick disappeared into the murky creek. Turadyl was rewarded for his efforts by being bound himself, and was unable to cast any further spells.

Cronwyn was not faring any better. He was going blue in the face, despite Malthus' attempts with his hammer. A green arm had tried to encircled around the cleric's arm, but he had shaken it off. Alexander had succeeded in stopping Cronwyn being pulled off, but that was it.

Rodrick gasped as he was submerged in the silty river. Beneath the surface the water was being stirred up like a storm was happening. The fighter held his breath and struggled to free an arm, so he could draw a weapon. But the creature grip was too tight. As his energy was sapped from him and as his lungs were about to burst he saw his life pass before his eyes. His childhood in Darokin, his start in the Darokin Diplomatic Corps. Then fighting in the freeholds. Finally he could stand it no longer and involuntarily gagged in a mouthful of deadly water... And breathed! Almost overcome with surprise, the fighter froze for a second. The green arms around him seemed to loosen a little, but started to pull him along the bottom of the muddy creek at a quick pace.

Rodrick couldn't see anything, but felt his skin scratching against the bottom as he was turned end over end. He finally managed to grab a dagger, and just in time - a huge mouth suddenly appeared. With a lunge he thrust his blade deep into the opening. The creature squirmed and Rodrick imagined he could almost hear a scream penetrate the silty waters. The tentacle holding him convulsed and then slackened a little.

On the raft things had also changed. The great green arms of the beast had released their hold on those onboard and were now sinking slowly beneath the surface. Malthus gave one of them a retaliatory tap with his hammer which was rewarded with a dull thud. Cronwyn had recovered his breath, and was now helping the others search the side of the raft for Rodrick. "Can you see him?" he shouted. "Maybe he held his breath and could still be alive."

Turadyl smiled. "I think he might have even done better than that. I enchanted him before he was dragged under with a water breathing spell."

A faint spluttering was heard from the far side of the raft. "It would have been nice if you could have told me that before I hit the water!" a voice exclaimed. Rodrick had managed to grab hold of the edge of the raft and was now spitting out mouthfuls of silty water. "Was still hard to breath though," he added, "Like being in a thick sandstorm."

The party gathered round and pulled the fighter back on board with many smiles and much back slapping. Alexander held back as usual, but didn't look unhappy at seeing the fighter again. After telling his story, Rodrick insisted he was all right and asked Pormas to get the raft moving again.

The stout boatman was shaking his head in disbelief, but at least he had come out from his hiding place among the baggage and animals in the centre of the raft. "I have to admit I thought you were a gon'er there. I've seen tumble weeds before, but never anything THAT big. Sometimes they get to the size where they swallow sheep, but that's it! You lot are real bad luck, I just know it..." The boatman continued shaking his head but at least put a pole in the water, and the journey continued.

For the next few days the temperature increased and so did the insect activity. Cronwyn seemed to have the best idea on how to cope with the heat. Every second morning a small knife would be produced from his pack and he shaved off every scrap of facial hair. Pormas never seemed to need to shave, people in the hot lands having adjusted to the climate over the centuries. Alexander seemed a little too young, and the elves never grew beards. For some reason nothing ever grew on Meltar's face, perhaps it was magic? This left Malthus and Rodrick. Cronwyn offered his tools to both of them.

"And I thought you kept your face clean to impress the ladies!" exclaimed Malthus. He looked thoughtful. "The heat and the dirt I can handle, Halav willing, but the insects might be a bit much." The cleric stroked his beard thoughtfully. "I will sleep on it and see how I feel in a few days."

"I will get around to it later." said Rodrick. "In the north I spent weeks without shaving and have gotten used to it."

Even Alexander thought that his master was acting strangely by this time. He was spending more and more time alone on the raft, trying to unlock the secrets of the silver skull he had taking from the enemy mage. Only his pupil tried to query him about this though, and the rebuke he was served meant he only did it once.

Towards the end of the week river became smaller until it was little more than a muddy creek. Eventually it broke into a series of slimy pools separated by salt encrusted mud flats. The party slogged through the first of these, pushing and pulling the raft through thigh deep mud. This allowed another few hours travel through the shallow pools. Then the whole thing had to be done again. "This is crazy," muttered Cronwyn. "It will take months to cross the swamp at this rate." Pormas overheard him. "You're welcome to walk if you want to trader!" The old merchant grumbled no more after that, but just stared into the thick nest of trees and ferns they were heading into. It was the salt swamp.