A Land Far Away

Promotion in Lanceboard is a rule that requires a pawn that reaches the eighth rank to be replaced by the player's choice of a bishop, knight, rook, or queen of the same color.The new piece replaces the pawn on the same move. The player cannot convert the pawn to another king nor another pawn. The choice of the new piece is not limited to pieces previously captured, thus promotion can result in a player owning, for example, two or more queens despite starting the game with one. Pawn promotion, or the threat of it, often decides the result in an endgame. Since the queen is the most powerful piece, the vast majority of promotions are to a queen. Promotion to a queen is also called queening; promotion to any other piece is referred to as underpromotion."

Death was final.
Death should have been final.
He had lived a good life.
He had served well.
He had finished his assignment and more.
He would have died saving a friend.
He did die saving a friend.
Now though he had to live with having died.

When his lungs gasped for air and his eyes opened wide, it was on the cold stone floor of the House of Heroes he found himself. Prone before the Altar of Tempus and Highsword Turik Bloodhelm, who performed the rites of resurrection.

"Rise Pawn Xandos Klaxxan, you live to fight another day."

The command was not one he would rebuke. Klaxxan stood weakly to put his back pack on his shoulder to be a good little soldier. Determined and disoriented, Klaxxan gave the Highsword a nod of affirmation.

Disoriented and in a state of shock Pawn Xandos Klaxxan staggered down the stairs beneath the House of Heroes. Mind reeling he felt hollow. He was not tired, he was restless with emotional wheels spinning ever faster. The pit of his stomach burned a tightly clenched fist of flame, the heat of battle was growing. The memories flooded back to him all at once, he was amoungst the twisted trees of Kryptgarden once more.

Wards were stripped bare from him and the Dragonclaw's curved kama blade bit deep into his back. The blood sprayed out of his wound as the kama pulled violently out of his flesh in preparation for another swing. His body twisted and coiled like a serpent as he moved to bury his fist deep into the Dragonclaw's flat features. The splatter of blood across his face and the impact of fist connecting first with flesh and then crunching through bone.

His eyes were wide as he staggered through the trees to find the moment he needed to tend to his injuries.

He felt his fingers letting go of the empty glass vial as he saw the savage with axe held high. Klaxxan's feet gripped the dirt and tree roots beneath him in an effort to hurl himself towards his target. Gael needed help now before it was to late and he may not get there in time.

The ribs under his left arm shattered as the axe impacted hard enough to hurl him into the air, and he felt his lung pop. He landed softly in darkness where he briefly had a moment of sweet release from the pain. His eyes opened wide as he struggled to push himself to his feet. It was to late, he was had and the fight fled from him as fear filled his every fiber.

Remembering his death made him flinch and recoil. He raised his hands in a futile gesture to ward off the storm of emotions and trauma washing over him, before dropping to his knees. His mind raced to escape the agony of reliving the experience.

There was no escape.

He told himself it did not happen, he was alive, how could he have died?
He had died.

Tremendous rage filled him at his failure upon the battlefield.
His rage was impotent.

His mind told him all the ways it could have been different.
He could not change the past.

He wept violently as his body heaved with his whimpers and tears.
He mourned the man who was.

Gasping sobs became a whimper, then they stopped altogether, through wet eyes the candle flames upon the shrine of the Red Knight had a gleaming aura

He accepted.

The Chessenta title of War Hero was one of the greatest honors a person could earn, and usually any particular battle only had one person worthy of such a title.

He accepted that he needed to let go of his hopes and dreams. He had been living a lie of half truths. He had traveled to the Citadel of Strategic Militancy because he wanted to become more then he was. He wanted to become a great leader of men, a War Hero, and a member of the Order of the Red Falcon. Instead he had become a Pawn.

Without wealth or title, no patron to write letters on his behalf, the prestigious Order of the Red Falcon required more then he had. His service was a stepping stone, an oppertunity to exploit. Time as a Pawn would allow him access to experince, knowledge, and perhaps the prestige needed to join the ranks of the Order of the Red Falcon.

He had taken the vows and did not break them.
He had trained hard and worked hard to complete the tasks laid before him.
He had done what was expected of a Pawn, and more.

The Vows were a steping stone, and following them was to gain the prestige and honor of having done so.

The Field Guide was a task he was given, so future generations may learn from it, and one he worked to complete to prove his superiority.

The Plague Rats were a plight on good people and he rose to the challenge of combating them, to be called Hero.

Representing the House of Heroes upon the Field of Triumph was a responsiblity he was charged with, but the cheers of the crowd and being awarded the Belt of Champions was a selfish pleasure.

The Foundry was as much to help the region as it was to earn himself a Promotion for his strategic thinking and ablities to see such through.

Traveling to Kryptgarden had been no different, he desired to prove to others he could walk there and return victorious.

Saving Gael Lynch was as much out of comradierie as it was to be another feather in Klaxxan's cap.

He had been a Pawn only to his own sense of pride, letting it move him through his life as it sought titles, prestige, and renown.

He accepted all of this.

"War is won by those with the best planning, strategy, and tactics, regardless of the apparent odds. Any fool can snatch defeat from the jaws of victory with fortune's aid. Only a master strategist can ensure lasting victory. War is a series of battles. Losing a battle does not necessarily indicate the war is lost. Seek out your opponent's weaknesses and recognize your own; avoid an opponent's strengths and play to your own. Only by focusing one's own strengths on the opponent's vulnerabilities can triumph be ensured. In times of war prepare for peace; in times of peace prepare for war. Seek out your enemy's enemies as allies, and be prepared to compromise. Life is an endless series of skirmishes with occasional outbreaks of war. Be ready and have a contingency plan."

He accepted that he was Her Pawn.

He was granted a second chance upon the Lanceboard of life in Her service through divine power of the Foehammer and. He would not dishonor Them, he would serve Them.

No longer did promotion concern him, for he was Hers.

No longer did the praise of others matter, for he was Hers.

No longer did any of his worldly concerns matter, for he was Hers.

He had taken the vows years ago, and he renewed them now before Her shrine with a zeal and understanding of commitment he did not previously possess.

"I will own no lands, for it is the place of the Pawn to position themselves for lasting victory, not material reward."

"I will hold no title, for it is the place of the Pawn to serve, not to be served."

"I will take no wife and father no child, for it is the place of the Pawn to compromise, not to be compromised."

"I will be the sword that She wields, and place myself where the enemy is most vulnerable."

"I will be the sheild that She raises, and defend the unprotected."

"I will be the strategy that She deploys, to see the goal achieved."

The Pawn arose renewed with a fervor he had never before knew.

He was Hers.

"While the Pawn is not the strongest unit on the board, its strategic positioning allows for other units to succeed."



As the light of Lathander began to turn the dark and frigid Waterdeep sky a fiery orange, steam rose in wisps from the huddled bodies of the children as they performed their morning calisthenics upon the cold dew covered grass of the Field of Triumph, and Pawn Xandos Klaxxan watched them like a hawk as he called out count and provided direction.

"ON YOUR FEET! FIGHTING STANCE!"

As quick as they could, each and everyone of them leapt their feet, putting their left foot forward and raising their hands to either attack or defend. Each and everyone of them save one.

"WRONG WAY!"

Out of the corners of their eyes they did their best to search the boy or girl to their left or right, to try and verify who was right and who was wrong. Left foot forward, balance equally spread, left hand out front for feints, jabs, and parry. Right hand back, reserved for a potent attack. All save one.

"WRONG WAY!"

Pawn Klaxxan's strides down line were a swift and silent march until his open right hand cracked like wet thunder across the already red and sweaty face of Robbie Wrong Way. The boy's entire body went into an uncontrolled spin as he fell crashing hard into the wet grass.

"ON YOUR FEET!"

It took the boy a moment to regain his senses and stagger to his feet where he once more mistakenly placed his right foot forward, right hand positioned ahead with his left held in reserve. The slow deep breath Pawn Klaxxan drew and exhaled was audible above the labored and panting breaths of the children waiting with their hands raised and bodies poised for a fight. He lowered his voice from his previous barking, to more of a loud and harsh whisper.

"Switch your feet Robbie....you are doing it the Wrong Way."

The boy looked to his left and to his right to compare his stance with those of the other kids, and realized his error as the Pawn's open left hand cracked him hard across the face. Still upright, Robbie Wrong Way awkwardly changed his footing to correct his stance despite the ringing in his ears and his blurred vision.

"SECOND STREET SARA! TO THE FRONT!"

She broke ranks with a swiftness and ran to the front to stand before the others, to face them, hands raised and poised to fight.

"Lead them through one hundred punches, keep the count. then switch feet and do it again."

Pawn Klaxxan stepped aside to check the leg of lamb that was slow roasting over the small cooking fire some paces away from where the children practiced. When he turned back to supervise the formation, he had to make an effort to prevent himself from smiling. They were each and everyone of them survivors who were no strangers to hardships and struggles. Some of them were stronger then others, some faster, some more mentally capable then the others, each of them though had potential.

Only a month ago they were raggedy street waifs, physically, mentally, and spiritually malnourished. Now though they were well feed, putting on muscle, learning to read and write, and working hard to develop themselves and each other. He did not know what their futures may hold, what personal wars they may endure, what joys they may have or sorrows they may need to struggle through, but he knew that they would be better equipped for whatever life may throw at them when he was done with them.

No matter if some went on to join the Order of the Pawn or become Red Falcons, no matter if they grew up to be craftsmen or entertainers, they would move forward in life better prepared to do more then just survive, these children would learn to thrive. It would take time.

Second Street Sara yelled out.
"SWITCH FEET! ATTACK!"

Wrong Way Robbie was slow to respond, he switched feet a full count after everyone else was already withdrawing their fist from their next set of practiced attacks. Pawn Klaxxan allowed himself a small smile. It would take time, and it would take some longer then others, but he would see each and everyone of these children come to know the strategies of the Lady of the Lanceboard so they may move through life making their choices with not only knowledge of the realms, but more importantly with mastery over themselves.

Pawn Klaxxan's voice was loud and unyielding as he shouted out.

"BREAK RANKS! WASH YOUR HANDS AND COME EAT!"

As the children sat and went about eating their breakfast of fire roasted lamb, Klaxxan's stern features broke into a warm smile before he began sharing with them the history of Waterdeep and explaining how long ago elves once lived where the City of Splendors now stands.

The rumors grew larger and Pawn Xandos Klaxxan accepted Cali's invitation to go witness the growing dangers present in the Westwood with his own eyes. There had been talk of Dragons roaming the woods and large Zartruss raiding bands, but what Pawn Klaxxan witnessed was most unexpected. What he beheld was the most elven sight sight of his life time, swarms of brightly colored beetles scurrying about and breathing rainbows. It was the sort of encounter you might expect a story teller at a tavern to share after to many cups.

Eventually they did encounter a lone Zartruss Elite Scout, that Klaxxan suspected was performing some form of reconnaissance. Only later did it come to light that lone Zartruss was actually a straggler of a larger raiding party who was preying upon the road between the Unicorn Inn and Waterdeep proper.

The fighting that ensued was fierce and thankfully Cali and himself were not alone. Rako Ca'tra's crossbow and steady hands provided a stream of deadly accurate bolts into the enemy ranks that provided the small band supieor firepower despite being out numbered.

When it was all said and done it was discovered the Zartruss had managed to find themselves a victim. The man later identified as Roly Bandiemere had been slain by the Zartruss. Roly had been a follower of Valkur and a seasoned fisherman. With no known family other then three previous wives from failed marriages, it was decided to send him out upon the waters with his small fishing boat and his Bass Master Two Thousand.

A small prayer was said for Roly to Valkur just before his vessel was set ablaze.

The children gathered around the large map of the region, and Klaxxan lead them through the daily lesson.

"This is the current state of affairs. We have a few small villiage along the Long Road, Zartruss Hobgoblins inside Kryptgarden as well as Drow, and an elven community within the Westwood."

Pawn Klaxxan laid down the tokens for each of the factions.

"Now rumors have been spreading that the Zartruss have become emboldened and have begun pushing out of Kryptgarden to increase their presence here in the Westwoods and have even attacked Rasslanter here."

Pawn Klaxxan wait a moment to allow the children the oppertunity to study the map with the tokens upon it.

"I have heard opinions from members of the Adventuring Community of Waterdeep claim that the Zartruss have become emboldened because they have gone unchallenged within Kryptgarden for so long. I have been told by said Adventurers that we need to form a team of the most capable and learn how to work together to strike at the Zartruss wirhin the Kryptgarden to cull their numbers and push them back."

Pawn Klaxxan placed his index finger upon the Zartruss token for a moment, then lifted his finger and slowly withdrew it south along the Long Road until it rested on the City of Waterdeep.

"My concern is the Adventurers pushing for increased aggression into Kryptgarden live here inside the City of Waterdeep, and should the Zartruss take said aggression into Kryptgarden as provocation for war."

"I am certain the Zartruss could take Red Larch, Amphail, Rasslanter, and maybe even the Elven Community in a few days of Swift and deliberate action before word even reaches Waterdeep of what happened."

"While an elite band of successful Adventurers can be more then capable of striking into Kryptgarden and culling Zartruss numbers, the Zartruss seem numerous enough to easily absorb said efforts without suffering any loss of offensive or defensive capablities."

Pawn Klaxxan carefully laid more Zartruss tokens upon the map, covering the small settlements along the Long Road, as well as the Elven Enclave.

"Adventurers though are not standing armies, and while they are more then capable of instigating a fight, they are less then ideal for holding ground and defending rural settlements."

Pawn Klaxxan silently studied the map for a moment before he continued.



"What we do not know is, if the Elven Enclave is prepared to defend themselves or willing to participate in what maybe a regional conflict. Historically Elven Nations have been difficult to predict because of their fickle nature. They may as likely fight a war they can not win as they would be to withdraw from a war they can win because they would rather not risk their own while lesser races can die in their place."

Pawn Klaxxan encircled the Westwood on the map with his index finger.

"The willingness and ability of the Elves to participate can be a deciding matter in this conflict. The Elves maybe the only community north of Waterdeep capable of slowing or repelling a Zartruss advance."

Silently the children and Pawn Klaxxan studied the map for several moments before Pawn Klaxxan broke the silence.

"Carefully think your answers through, and listens to the answers the others provide. I want each of you to work through what should be done here. I want each of you to think of how critical our next steps maybe, and the possible consequences of error."

Pawn Klaxxan raised his gaze from the large regional map they had gathered around, and studied the faces of his students awaiting their insights and opinions.

"Truth is not what you want it to be; it is what it is, and you must bend to its power or live a lie."



The children finished their training drills on the Field of Triumph, and Pawn Xandos Klaxxan watched them with narrowed eyes through a stern expression. Without instruction they moved with haste to fall into a large semi circle facing him where they stood tall and still despite their exhaustion and their injuries.

"Take a seat."

The children swiftly dropped to sitting cross legged upon the grass and remained silent and waiting for what may come next. Pawn Klaxxan removed the corpse of a black dragon wyrmling from a leather pouch and held it out for display to his students.

"Rako Ca'tra, and I have continued to perform reconnaissance patrols of the Westwood in an effort to learn more about the developing regional threats. During our most recent effort we encountered a large band of twenty or so Kobolds moving along the road through the Westwood with this black wyrmling flying alongside their numbers."

Klaxxan stepped over to the student nearest to his right and handed them the corpse of the wyrmling.

"Take care not to hurt yourselves, the teeth may still be coated in acid, and the claws remain deadly sharp."

As the students each took their time examining the corpse and slowly passing it along to the next, Pawn Klaxxan continued.

"For those of you who do not know, Kobolds a short scrawny race of scaly folk known for their cowardice and cunning. They may have once been the creations of some dragons seeking to breed a race of scaly servants, and many Kobolds to this day imagine or believe themselves to be of Dragon blood and it is not at all uncommon for Kobolds to revere and worship Dragons as deities.

"Not far behind the Kobolds was a large hunting party of Lizardfolk complete with a war Chieftain, Shaman, and a Sorcerer."

Pawn Klaxxan reached back into the leather pouch and removed a large and impressively durable piece of a black egg shell. Some of the students tilted their heads as if one side of their mind grew heavier with thought, others made quizzical faces, and a couple simply blinked and breathed through their mouths. Not all of them were destined for greatness.

"The Lizardfolk were carrying this fragment of a black dragon egg shell, and it appears they were in pursuit of the Kobolds and the black wyrmling."

Some of the previously blank faces furrowed their brows and began to slowly nod, others that were already a step or two ahead of the narrative allowed themselves smug smiles of self satisfaction.

"Now then....who here would like to speculate what this may mean?"

Several of the students raised their hands and Pawn Klaxxan pointed to Nadia Knuckles, who swiftly hopped to her feet to address the entire class.

" Sir Klaxxan....I mean Pawn Klaxxan.....I be thinking maybe this means the Kobolds stole the Wyrmling and the Lizardfolk went to reclaim it....and if there is a Wyrmling and an egg....then there is some mother dragon laying them right? So some where out there....not to far away because how far and how fast can Kobolds go? Well Sir....I mean Pawn Sir.....I mean Pawn......somewhere not to far away there is a Black Dragon hatching eggs with Lizardfolk working for her.....and maybe that be why the Zartruss Hobgoblins have been on patrol?"

Pawn Klaxxan gave Nadia a stern nod with a look of approval, which doubled as the signal for her to retake her seat.

"Now then.....If Old Gnawbones is increasing Zartruss Patrols outside Kryptgarden because some Black Dragon in the region is hatching eggs and commanding Lizardfolk......what might that mean?"

Several hands were raised, Wrong Way Robbie's hand was not one of them.

"Wrong Way! Stand up and speak."

Visibly startled by having been called out, Robbie quickly recovered and leapt up to his feet and stood tall projecting his voice with authority.

"Seek out your enemy's enemies as allies, and be prepared to compromise!"

Pawn Klaxxan's stern features cracked into a smile at Robbie's unbridled enthusiasm, and Wrong Way retook his seat after getting the nod of approval.

"Now....we have an idea of what might be afoot and we have the Lady's Teaching to Guide us.....though we do not actually Know the Truth of what is afoot. We only have speculations based upon very little evidence, and if we were going to make one of the two Dragons our ally against the other....which would we choose and why? which of them might be willing to work with us against the other and why?"

No hands shot to the air in immediate response, and several of the students wore faces of serious concern as they explored their thoughts.

Discipline must be a habit so ingrained that it is stronger than the excitement of battle or the fear of death.



The line of Crossbows was unwavering, and Pawn Xandos Klaxxan remained silent while Rako Ca'tra drilled the four fundamentals of marksmanship into children, into the students. His voice barked out from his helmet with the aurthority of a man speaking true with unwavering conviction and confidence.

"THE FOUR FUNDAMENTALS OF CROSSBOW MARKSMANSHIP!"

"STEADY POSITIONING!"

"AIMING!"

"BREATHING!"

"LEVER CONTROL!"

The students released a volley of bolts towards the targets only thirty yards from their line. All of them hit the target, which was a substantial improvement from the inaccuracy of only a few Tenday prior. None of them though hit the bullseye, but in time they would.

"THE CROSSBOW IS YOURS, THE CROSSBOW IS AN EXTENSION OF YOUR WILL! YOU ARE RESPONSABLE FOR YOUR CROSSBOW!"

"IF YOU CAN NOT HOLD IT STEADY YOU ARE FUCKED!"

"YOU NEED TO KEEP IT STEADY, HOLD IT STEADY! BE STEADY!"

The students wordlessly reloaded their Crossbow with their calloused hands. Each had a full quiver of bolts they had made themselves, and each time their quivers ran dry they would as a collective Lower their Crossbows and walk together to together their bolts, before resuming their place on the line.

"AIM YOU WHORESONS!"

"AIM TO KILL!"

"DO NOT AIM WITH YOUR HANDS!"

"AIM WITH YOUR EYES!"

"SEE THAT ENEMY CLEAN IN YOUR MIND!"

"SEE THEM DEAD!"

The crossbows clicked in unison and the bolts flew true, burying themselves deep into the targets backed by bails of hay. All but one. Wrong Way had sneezed so violently enough his body bent, and he held off releasing his bolt. Removing his left hand from under his weapon he reached up to wipe the snot from his face. His right hand tightened its grip so he would not drop the crossbow, and his tightened fist activated the lever.

The entire class turned their head towards Wrong Way as his Crossbow clicked and the bolt was released harmlessly into the grass beside near his feet. In unison everyone lowered their crossbows and waited with baited breath, as Rako's armored frame marched wordlessly towards Wrong Way.

There was no reading Rako's lips behind his helmet as he whispered into Robbie Wrong Way's ear. Whatever was said, appeared to put steel in the young man's spine and determination in his eyes, as he very methodically reached down to pull the bolt from the grass near his feet.

Slowly and almost mechanically Robbie Wrong Way wiped the dirt from the bolt on his pant leg, once more loaded it carefully into his Crossbow and assumed a steady firing stance. Taking aim with unwavering eyes, he exhaled fully before smoothly working the lever to release the bolt. The path traveled was an unerring straight line from Robbie's crossbow into the heart of his target.

Afterwards Pawn Xandos Klaxxan gathered the students around and carefully explained to them the significance of how the fundamentals of marksmanship applied to all aspects of their life. The importance of starting with a steady and stable foundation, visualizing and examining your goals, maintaining self control throughout the process, and finally execution. The lesson was better received by some then others.

The long days of work, the difficult training sessions, the lessons, and everything else had been designed to help these former children of the dockward to grow into disciplined and wise warriors. Not all of the efforts hit their mark, and each of them learned, developed, and grew at their own pace. Each of them slowly discovering aspects of themselves they did not realize existed and learning skills and developing strengths they did not know were possible. The process worked, and Pawn Klaxxan was diligent in keeping to it. Almost as diligent as Robbie Wrong Way was with renewed sense of crossbow disipline after Rako had softly and gently whispered in his ear.

"If you dont unfuck yourself at this very moment, I will crawl down your neck, pull out your spine and beat you to death with it!"

Due to their fey heritage elves are doomed to be nonsensical victims of their emotions, incapable of living lives of logic and reason. They will always go where their Fey blood takes them and find ways to later justify their nonsensical behavior. Worse of all they honestly believe their lies and live as if they were truly some superior race beyond reproach.

The students raced across the Field of Triumph hurtling the small saw horse obstacles while working to maintain control of their loaded crossbows, and Pawn Xandos Klaxxan supervised. Their crossbow marksmanship had improved since they were first introduced to the weapon system, but rarely did battle allow anyone to stand steady as they worked to empty their quiver into the enemy. One needed to be capable of shooting, moving, and communicating to successful navigate the battlefield while combating the enemy and working to coordinate with their team.

"GATHER ROUND!"

Each of the students finished the obstacle course, worked to see their crossbow unloaded, and then together jogged in unison to where Pawn Klaxxan waited near the cooking fire with roasted lamb chunks on skewers with peppers and onions. They slung their crossbows and formed an orderly line for their servings.

"Watch your fingers you hungry jackals, Highsword Bloodhelm will take no pity on you if you accidentally bite off your own finger or tongue during dinner."

The students sat in a large semi circle to eat their meal, and Pawn Klaxxan began to brief them.

"During a recent presence patrol through the Westwood, Rako Ca'tra and I smelled a horrid odor blow through the trees as the sun set. It was heavy with the foul scent of spoiled meat and rotted vegetation.....and no it was not his breath nor my own"

"We had been upon the road East of the Unicorn Inn some ways and Lathander's Light had just set, when the foul odor blew strong at us from the North through the trees and darkening forest, we moved north following a stream and kept hand railing it as it turned westward along the cliff face that acts as the northern boarder of the Westwood."

"Rako Ca'tra moved with his crossbow at the ready, and I with my hands empty and ready to intercept anything that may have moved to strike at the pair of us. We often work together in this manner so that should we be caught unaware by a threat, at least one of us is prepared to react regardless of the range between us and it. Now although we saw them coming, and we were prepared to react to the threat they presented, neither Rako nor I expected to be charged by a pair of red eyed zombie grizzly bears."



They did not stop chewing and eating, but the students looked up from their skewers and gave Pawn Klaxxan a quizzical look, to which the Pawn could only offer a nod in response before he continued.

"Yes....a pair of red eyed zombie grizzly bears. They proved themselves sources of the foul rotten spoiled meat and rotten scent we had felt on the winds and dangerous threats that Rako Ca'tra and I worked to dispatch. They though were not the only source of the foul, and as the pair of us continued up stream we were beset upon by Shambling Mounds and Musk Creeper Tree that towered above us as it attacked."

Once more the students blinked with confusion and looked prepared to begin asking questions while they chewed with vigor. Pawn Klaxxan offered them a raised open hand as if signaling to halt their questions before he elaborated.



"Shambling mounds fed off of the flesh and blood of living creatures they had engulfed and crushed within their own bodies. They appeared to be moving, vaguely man-shaped mounds of rotting vegetation. They also appear to be immune to lightning, or at least they rather ignored the bottled lightning I unleased upon them."

"As for Musk Creeper Trees, yellow musk creepers normally cling to walls, pillars and graveyards, remaining motionless until striking. The plant would destroy the minds of humanoids, implanting its bulbs in its victims. Twenty-four hours after being implanted, the bulbs sprout into a creeper vine that animates the host corpse, turning it into a yellow musk zombie under its control. The corpse acted as fertilizer for the sprout, which grows to full size in a week. Once it was fully grown, the plant became mobile, reducing the zombie to a pile of dead offal. The Musk Creeper Tree we encountered appeared to be animated by the vines and it did manage to effect me with it's spores."

Their jaws briefly dropped and they momentarily stopped chewing as they went wide eyed. The moment quickly passed and they resumed chewing because they remained hungry regardless if Pawn Klaxxan was going to be a zombie or not, it was dinner time and dinner was good.

"We managed to survive a fighting withdraw from that section of the Westwood, and fell back to the relative safety of the Unicorn Inn where liberal use of medical leeching was used to syphon any remnants of tainting spores from our blood."

The kids were so relieved with this news they licked their lips and fingers clean while eyeing the cooking fire to see if their were seconds to be served. Pawn Klaxxan loudly cleared his throat with a forced cough into his right fist to draw their attention back to him.

"Now then....the reason I share this news with you is so you might understand there may very well be a new faction at play in the West Woods, or perhaps a new face of an existing faction revealed to us."

With a beckoning gesture Pawn Klaxxan gestured the students to gather closer as he laid out a map of the West Wood on the grass of the Field of Triumph, and then decorated it with a variety of faction tokens.



'Who is responsible for these flesh consuming animated plants and zombie bears?"

Pawn Klaxxan busied himself cooking more skewers of meat and vegetables while the students discussed theory's amongst themselves. More then one of them got rather heated about defending their position, others mostly listened, and others only asked questions working to play devil's advocate to the ideas proposed. Long after the second round of skewers had been finished, Pawn Klaxxan quietly and discreetly collected the faction markers and rolled up the map while the children remained locked in their discussion. Holding the token representing the Elves in his fingers, Pawn Klaxxan paused to study it in the setting sunlight for a moment.

There was no evidence to support his theory, other then the patterns of known history and cultures, and he did not share it with the kids because he did not want to overly influence their own thoughts and ideas when it came to working to solve such mysterious. Elves were likely responsible for the violent plants. Klaxxan suspected one or more of the Westwood Elves thought to weaponize the plants against everyone who dared to encroach upon the Westwood uninvited, and it would only be a matter of time before their defenses proved to have designs of their own and become a problem for the elves. When that day comes, they will be hesitant to involve any outsiders in seeking a solution out of their delusional sense of superiority, and their self made troubles will only grow worse. This was the Elven way.

*Delivered though the Temple of the Selendrie to the Elven Enclave by a young human girl wearing red robes bearing the symbol of the Red Knight. The letter is passed to the High Priestess and the girl leaves as quietly and unobtrusivelyas she can.*


High Priestess Isiovieng,

It has come to my attention that during the early days of Eleasis, 1400 Dale Recking, The Year of Lost Ships, members of the Lhuvenhead Trading Company encountered violent plants and what appeared to be zombie bears within the Westwood. Their investigation lead them to what was described to me as a male man sized Half-Fiend with red flesh and black horns who attacked them on sight. I am told the fight was violent but brief battle in which the Half Fiend appeared to be armed, armored, and wield magic. After the battle it was discovered the Half Fiend had in it's possession a black acorn which exploded before the members of Lhuevenhead Trading Company could closely examine it.

During a march along the road through the Westwood on Eleint 22nd, 1400 Dale Reckoning, The Year of Lost Ships, members of the House of Heroes encountered a band of Kobolds in the company of a Black Wyrmling, as well as a band of Lizardmen carrying Black Dragon Egg fragments who appeared to be in pursuit of the Kobolds and Black Wyrmling. The Kobolds, Black Wyrmling, and Lizardmen were all slain. The House of Heroes is in possession of the Black Dragon Egg fragments. It was immediately after the these two encounters the sun set and members of the House of Heroes smelt a foul rot on wind coming from deeper within the wood, north of the road. Upon investigation of the source of the smell red eyed zombie bears were encountered as well as shambling mounds and a musk creeper tree. The House of Heroes patrol then withdrew from the Westwood to report it's findings.

I write this to inform you that the House of Heroes recognizes the Elves of the Westwood as valuable allies in the region to be supported.

Pawn Xandos Klaxxan of the House of Heroes

"The men of Chessenta shaved their faces clean and only the lowest of slaves was denied the razor. It was the way of things, it was how the people knew at sight the station of another. It was important enough culturally that the privilege of taking a razor to one's face was a reward granted to slaves who had proved themselves honest and capable men. Only foreigners, slaves, degenerates, and mad men forsaken the razor and allowed their faces to grow wild and unkempt."

The summons was as formal as could be expected from the Clergy of Tempus, which is to say it was simply worded and direct. Highsword Turik Bloodhelm requested Pawn Xandos Klaxxan's presence in the Temple, and the Pawn did not keep him waiting. With well measured and swift strides of a man on the march, Klaxxan made his way along the Lance Board, pass the eternal flames, and up the stairs towards the Altar of Tempus where he briefly took a knee out of a show of respect and then stood tall to report.

"Highsword Bloodhelm, I have come upon your request."

The Highsword stood tall and strong behind the Altar of Tempus where the light of it's flames made his eyes and armor gleam.

"So good you heard my summons. I have a request for you. I do not take it lightly. I choose you do to the fact you are a paragon of the House of Heroes."

Pawn Klaxxan stood tall and silent, waiting to hear what would be asked of him, and after a moment the Highsword folded his arms while eyeing him. It was then the stubble upon Pawn Klaxxan's face began to itch as it always had since he started shaving only every other day in an effort to remind himself he was only the lowest of servants. The Highsword had no intentions of volunteering his request and Klaxxan was not going to disrespect the Highsword by asking. It was not the Pawn's place to negotiate nor barter his services with the Clergy of the Foehammer like some merchant or mercenary haggling over the worth of his goods or services.

"I need only hear what you would ask of me Highsword."

It was an acceptable compromise to let the Highsword know he was willing, while also wanting to know what the request was. Pawn Klaxxan was actually rather pleased with his handling of the stalemate.

"Six years ago, Priest Ethrhik Lu of the Temple of Tempus located in Raven's Bluff died in the plains of Thar. A courageous death against cowardly orcs and ogres that had no honor for the rules of battle. He was a widower, his wife passing due to health reasons. He had a son that was very young at the time. He was taken on by Ravak Thule, a traveling priest who spread our holy word. Ravak Thule was visiting Waterdeep and died to a fever that none of our priests could cure."

The news of what had happened then and recently was all somber and Pawn Xandos Klaxxan felt a sense of lost for those who had passed and for the boy who had lost all those he had. As a physical manifestation of his emotions he reflexively nodded somberly as Highsword Bloodhelm continued on.

"He left behind his ward. I wish to pass this ward to you. Will you be willing to take charge of him. To show him the way of Tempus and also the Red Knight?"

This is not what Pawn Xandos Klaxxan had expected.

"I am here to serve Highsword Bloodhelm, and I will serve the Gods of Battle and War as best I can, by seeing this young man made ready for both."

It was then that Highsword Bloodhelm summoned forward Danny Lu to be introduced to his new Guardian.