Thursday rolls around again and the usual group gathers in the back booth of The Jaunty Mug. My avatar, Stevie, acknowledges them as they enter. He prepares their drinks as they settle in for an evening of storytelling. I can’t wait to see how their world unfolds.

“I owe you an apology, Chuck,” says Bert as they pull books and pages from their bags.

“Not a problem,” says Chuck. “It was late anyway. Besides, when Julie said her character finally talked to her, I thought I’d just get out of the way.” With a wink, he looks around the table. “I stepped out of my usual character to play something a little different. I created a hoity-toity elf named Naathyn Greenleaf. He was born into a noble family in Rithraunen, the Elven capital. Naathyn, ever the black sheep, didn’t really fit in with his family. But, since he was the only son, he was expected to lead the household when his father retired. He rebelled and left. This is his story of meeting Roland on the trade road from Korwyn to Gaval.”

###

Naathyn smelled the smoke from the burning caravan long before he saw the dark plume rise over the hills to the south. He followed the wolf he called Rowlf through the trees, not bothering with the road that wound through to the edge of the Sylvan Wood. Rowlf led him to a clearing used as a frequent overnight spot for merchant caravans traveling from Korwyn to Gaval.

Several wagons smoldered. Bodies littered the ground. That’s when Rowlf sniffed the air. Now alert, Naathyn heard a low moan coming from nearby a wagon.

A weak voice from beneath a heap of barrels and broken crates said something in the Dwarven language.

Naathyn moved the debris, throwing smoldering pieces away from the rest of the wagon. He heard Rowlf’s pack prowling around the wreckage, awaiting permission to feed on the remains. They would keep him safe enough while he worked to free the dwarf trapped beneath the rubble.

“Nae!” shouted the dwarf. “Get away! Th’ butts be full o’ lamp oil. It’ll go up any moment!”

Naathyn turned to Rowlf. “Get the pack to help,” while projecting an image of the wolves pulling loose wood out of the flames.

The wolf howled once, and a dozen black figures slipped from the underbrush. They grabbed what wasn’t actively burning in their teeth, dragging it out of the way. Naathyn rolled at least two butts of oil off the legs of the fellow before pulling him out from beneath the wagon.

He helped the dwarf a safe distance from the burning caravan before turning to let out a sharp whistle to the pack. He projected to Rowlf that the pack was free to feed, but to be wary of the barrels—and why.

They journeyed a short distance until Naathyn discovered a suitable spot for them to rest. He’d brought them to a rocky outcropping that offered shelter for the oncoming storm. He saw to the dwarf’s injuries, then made him comfortable.

“So,” he began after setting up their camp. “What brings a dwarf down from the Dragonspines?”

“Not me first choice,” came the reply. “Th’ deep dwarves invaded me ‘ome, and us’n that survived weren’t ‘xactly welcome in Mourndim after a while. I left an’ headed west, t’ward th’ Dragontail. I reckoned it were time t’ start a new life. Th’ master o’ this here ‘van seen me walkin’ along the road an’ asked if’n I were interested in helpin’ ‘im ‘til he reached Gaval. I said yes. Could always use th’ gold. Last night, bandits struck. The rest ye done seen for yerself. Bye th’ bye, I be Roland, th’ last of the Firestone clan, I reckon.”

“I am Naathyn, scion of House Greenleaf of Rithraunen. And since you mentioned the Dragontail, I am looking for a companion with whom to travel west.” He leaned in and continued. “I’m sorry you have lost your family. I am trying to get away from mine. Shall we travel together for now?”

The dwarf regarded him for a long moment before answering.

“Ye saved me life, so’s I guess I owes ye tha’ much.”

“You owe me nothing.”

###

“And that, my friends, is the story of how Naathyn saved Roland.”

“Mac?”

“Yep, we collaborated on the story. It explains the reason they trust each other so deeply, despite their differences.”

“Okay, then. I’ll go next.”

(To be continued)