Frendei stood in the rain again. The puddle ahead was too large to circumvent, so he sloshed through, uncaring of the wetness that seeped into his boots. Hobbly was a wreck and some of his new friends were dead. The rain fit his mood perfectly. It also put out the last of the town’s fires.
The last time he stood in the rain checking out the scenery, he was in Marienburg. He had then proceeded to enter the house, steal a magical artifact, and narrowly escape death. He knew nothing about the artifact, a sack, at the time, and he knew just as little now. He did know that the sack started this horrible chain of events, at least it started his involvements in them. The sack led him here…led him to destruction.
Frendei stared at the gaping hole in the forest before him. He had watched the trees of the forest as they were felled, as if a giant, invisible foot stepped out of the sky and onto earth, crushing anything underneath. The damage had been caused by a goblin shaman, of all things. Frendei had had a front row seat on top of a hill behind the goblin army. It was fate that had brought him and his elven companions to that location, unnoticed behind the enemy gathering and relatively unimpeded to attack the shaman from behind.