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"Ok, well, where is the next round? It can't be that easy?" Anterbach sounded barely winded. "Excuse me, shorty," Bolt responded, "where were you?"

"Hey, bouncy man," Korg answered for this 1/3 sized friend, "lets just be glad that we are still standing."

Florimund suggested that Korg and Phth keep an eye on the perimeter, while Bolt and Florimund search the new advance party and Dobbs and Dev searched the first party of giants. Florimund started to bind the wounds of Bolt and then asked Anterbach to heal the group as best he could.

While using his healing potions on Bolt and spells on Dev, Anterbach still busied himself searching one of the giants. While looking for the three strings bow strings that he found, he came across three large gems on the leader of the party. Dobbs was sure that it was just habit the way Anterabach quickly put the gems away into a hidden pocket in his robe. For his part, Dobbs found both a large gem and a pouch of platinum.

While putting away a stash of gold that he found on one of the giants, Bolt discovered that one of his prized eggs had cracked and left a bluish yolk all over the interior of his backpack. Armor that Florimund found was donated to Phth, it appeared to magical scale, and the illusionist felt that the great beast would now move faster. For his part, Florimund took a magical rod from the shaman. Korg and Anterbach both found some potions while the rest of the group scooped up the gold and silver that had spread across the snow.

After healing, the party agreed to return to the town. Now that the raiding bands of giants had been melted away, the group felt that they should return to town to heal and plan the future.

As they hiked back to town, Anterbach offered some entertainment:

"Perhaps a story would be appropriate here," he began. "A heroic story that would inspire and lift our spirits. Hmm... let's see... I know, I'll tell you about Wallow! How she single handedly thwarted a goblin raiding party and saved the lives of dozens of gnomes from her village. I know, you can hardly believe that Wallow just by herself could defend a village against nearly 20 goblin warriors, but Wallow was no ordinary pig. No, Wallow was an exceptional pig with a long lineage of exceptional pigs! Why, Wallow's grandmother was none other than Curillaty Gunn, the same pig that took First Place at the Gwendle Hei Festival for 17 years in a row! Curillaty's grandfather, which would be Wallow's great-great-grandfather, was Burwil Gunn. Burwil still holds the Pig Pulling record, which likely won't be broken for a long time. Both Curillaty and Burwil were owned by a strange gnome named Odaled Gunn, who had a peculiar habit of giving his animals his last name. So in addition to Curillaty and Burwil, he had two chickens named Wesyn Gunn and Smyth Gunn, a cow named Gott Gunn, and a pony name Gluu Gunn. Odaled himself was a Tinker gnome of some repute. Odaled is credited with inventing the message transfer system currently in use in the Tinker Caverns in Gwedle Hei. He strapped scroll tubes on the backs of small lizards and newts and trained them to run between the different caverns. This way you could place some note or message in the tube and it eventually found it's way to the right party. Odaled also invented the Cavern Cleaner with his partner Hoover Melassan. Hoover wasn't particularly smart, but he could draw very well. So Odaled would come up with the ideas and Hoover would draw them up. The Cavern Cleaner was a monstrous machine that you drove through the tunnels and caverns. It used a suction principle to pick up debris and junk left over from the Tinkers work. One day, Odaled lost control of the Cleaner and it crashed through a cavern wall and into the bathing chambers of Cinnamon Spice. Cinnamon was a very famous and very attractive singer, and needless to say after she got over her initial shock she was very angry. So angry, in fact, that she insisted that the Cavern Cleaner was dismantled and never used again, though it was doubtful that a suction cleaning device had much of a future anyways. Still, Odaled and Hoover were upset that their invention was destroyed, so to get even Hoover began circulating stunning drawings of Cinnamon standing naked in a bathtub, mouth open in shock with her arms covering her breasts. Cinnamon tried to initiate some legal action against Odaled and Hoover, who were forced to hire a lawyer named Wrobn Shugar. Wrobn argued the case for Odaled and Hoover, while Cinnamon argued her own. Since nobody could keep a straight face through the entire proceedings, the entire matter was dropped. Cinnamon eventually confiscated most of the drawings, though occasionally one still gets transferred between caverns on the InterNewt message system. It did spark an interest in Hoover for law and amagrams, and he eventually left the invention trade, changed his name to Bulanamec Creash, and started working for a magistrate in a nearby town. I understand that our current laws concerning who has the right to copy and distribute pictures is based on Hoover's work and the historic Shugar and Spice arguments. It always did amaze me how a person could start off in one direction, and end up going somewhere else.

Bolt felt that Florimund had been talking an eternity. Had they just fought the giants or had there been days of rest while the party hiked, rest, slept, ate, and mindlessly listened to the illusionist? He was unaware, how long the gnome had spoken. All he knew was that the tall wooden doors of the frozen village looked so inviting. He could imagine the brew burning his lips. He did not know how many drinks he would "test" before offering to pick up a around for the party, but he knew that there was a pub somewhere calling him.

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Following multiple rounds paid for by Bolt, the party rented a large subterranean room beneath the Gray Boar. The Pub owner, a gnarled old human named Bandor, leased the party a dark cold room for a month and only charged twice the going rate. Treasure and equipment was stored in the center of the room and the adventurers put out their bed mats along the walls.

Florimund spent a few hours with Bandor's pretty daughter. Gwyn dressed as a gypsy with dark red and blue scarves draped about her frame. It wasn't long before the Illusionist was able to con the young lady into identifying a couple pieces of the party's treasure. For only one of the party's "eggs," Gwyn recognized the rod as a Rod of Withering and the amulet an Amulet of the Planes.

Bolt went out looking for adventure outside of town and had no problem finding a lot of well armed guards with big swords only too ready to test their blades against the bouncy man's rapier. Unfortunately, killing a town guard is not always a good idea. Bolt asked Phth to hike around the outside of town in hopes of finding some action. Dev came along just because he felt a break from the ale would be a good idea.

Bandor's cousin, Thalin P'tar, a Bard with high Magic, Thief, and Fighter abilities, offered to work with the party training those who would benefit from his skills. He said that for 6,000 GP he would be willing to come down to the party's cellar for two weeks.

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Thud! Dobb's body made a sickening thump on the pub's hardwood floor. Stoically, Anterbach glared into his face, "one ought not to rock on one's chairs when kenders are about."

As the out of time and place cowboy retook his seat at the table, Bolt continued dividing up the party treasure. All the money, including gems stashed away in Anterbach's pockets, was tossed upon the table. As the metallic pile grew, Korg stood with his hand on the hilt of his sword glaring with menacing arrogance as if to dare anyone to make a claim.

It had been agreed that the first goal was to pay for the training of the party. Bolt had already traded the eggs to a local necromancer for a thousand platinum. The kender temporarily held on to the rod, the gnome kept the amulet, and Korg, for his outstanding bravery, awarded himself the small sword. Phth retained the armor, which he had already permanently stained with his unique odor and bodily fluids. Bolt took possession of all of the magical potions while Dobbs and Dev declined anything but cash.

On the following morning, the kender and gnome started their training with the bard. Korg and Bolt went looking for adventure outside of town. They scored three dozen more copper pieces and a handful of electrum as they massacred a small band of winter kobolds. The kobold leader was an ice troll named Ickabeth. Long after its death, the whining still haunted their ears. The little adventure gained Bolt experience and readiness for training and Korg a chance to show the bouncy fighter how to use a blade.

In the evening at the pub, the group would often sit around the fire as Gwen served frothing mugs of beer. Bolt approached the fair Gwen when Florimund wasn't around. He let her know that he thought she was a brilliant lass. Too brilliant, he told her, to fall for a gnome's compliments and his half truths about his life. Surely, she should know that he has a beautiful wife and seven small mouths to feed and his straying eye will be the death of him. He told her that if she had any doubts, she should surely ask his good friend Anterbach.

"Yes Gwen, Bolt is indeed correct, except for one count," Anterbach confirmed, "Florimund has eight, not seven, children. The eighth was the product of one of his wanderings, yet he refuses to recognize or support the poor child. You should have seen his face when he actually encountered this old fling and was told the news. Denial, I'm saying, total denial."

In the evening, a dark robed figure walked out of the shadows and whispered into the moody ranger's unguarded ear. He spoke briefly and yet passionately, and was just as soon back in the shadows and gone. Dev rose quietly and disappeared into the cold evening.

Two giant members of the town watch were playing an innocent game of mumbley peg. Blood and portions of skin, mixed with various ales, clung to the table. The kender watched with awe and excitement as a slice of thumb rolled across the table. Intrigued, Anterbach approached the pair. "You know, I bet my friend Dobbs could whip both of you. In fact, I'll bet the sack of treasure he holds tried to his belt." Dobbs had tried to invalidate the bet both due to the fact that he had not made the wager and refused to admit that he even knew the half-sized man. In the end, Dobbs lost both his gold and a clump of fingernail to the watch. On a double or nothing bet, Anterbach won back the gold for Dobbs and then sick with the gambling itch, bet Bolt's satchel for a giant magical helm worn by the largest member of the watch. Bolt spared his life when he won, but made a clear threat against any future bets with other people's money.

The helm was silver with three inlaid gems. A yellow square of amber was set in the middle and two green emeralds guarded either side. Though the helm obviously had the weight of the kender and half again, Anterbach sat proudly a top his prize.

"Got a minute?" Florimund asked the giant man. "Korg always have time for long winded warrior friend," the giant replied. "You see, Gwen is marvelous. She reminds me of Tamberline, a wonderful blond sorceress who I . . . (Korg's mucus grumbled deep in his throat and reminded Florimund to get to the point) . . . Anyway, she has been quite cold to me as of late. I don't get it. I guess, I should not pursue, after all, being that she is human and all . . .

"My friend," Korg spit over his mug, "take it from a half human. Love is good no matter what the mix. It is like Orc stew, whatever goes in, and we often don't want to know what goes in, believe me, it comes out smelling good.

Later that week, Anterbach overheard Phth and Dobbs talking about the better parts of humanoid flesh to eat. Dobbs was really in awe and taking mental notes as the gnoll described which parts of the kender would be best skinned, which parts kept the most flavor when boiled, and which parts are best served tartar. As the afternoon sun declined and mealtime approached, the kender decided he would spy on other friends and not remain within the range of the green man's massive nose.

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"That man was Kieven." Bolt realized that for the first time, Dev might be actually willing to talk for a while. "He was the lord high inquisitor in my father's court; a sort of chief of intelligence if you will. My father's kingdom was west of the Crystalmist mountains at the far end of the continent of Oreth. Often called Oreth Se, the people are similar those of this region but humanoids are more rare. I guess this allows the humans to delve more deeply into the evil sides of their nature."

Bolt was shocked, he had not known that Dev was a prince. He knew that the moody fellow had dark secrets but had never guessed that he was of noble lineage. Dev possessed none of the lordly charisma and self confidence in speech that Bolt expected in a blue blood. Always disgusted with the lords of the realm, the last thing Bolt expected was to find an aristocrat in his own party. He tried to hold back his own disappointment as Dev continued.

"Kieven has brought bad news. He has been looking for me for quite sometime. I guess I have been rather hard to find. Anyway, my mother who I had thought was dead is now the prisoner of the man who took my father's lands and my father is not buried in the Fields of Bwen-ven, instead he is held in a magical jar, bound by the magic of the sorcerer Keth-tel in the Breian caverns in Hades. I have been told that Keth-tel plans to legitimize his hold on my father's lands by forcing my mother to wed him."

A piece of burning wood in the fire cracked, a spark shot out across the room and landed near Bolt's foot. Suddenly Dev's dark eyes started to glow a ghastly green and fire rolled through his cheeks. Determination and hate boiled over as though it was about to explode. For an instant Bolt expected Dev to jump up in anger and swing his blade at anything hard or soft within the arc of his swing. Just as suddenly, Dev put his face quietly into his hands. The moment has passed and the anger had been put back into that place where he hid so well his feelings. "I will go to my father."

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That evening, Dev addressed his colleagues: "Warriors," Devlin Ve'Quas began, more pondering the word than addressing the party, "I feel I can call you that with no hesitation. Your bravery and tenacity at the head waters of the Shaft River demonstrated your commitment to a quest, albeit for treasure, but I know your dedication now." Standing slowly and beginning to pace the room, Dev continued, "It is a strange thing that drives men and, regardless of the source, if it is a strong motivation it can be very powerful." He paused then said, "We are at a crossroads, gentlemen. Before you make the decision to follow me to the depths of Hades, you should know my story and know the dangers that come with knowing who I am." Slowly and deliberately, Dev stepped around the room and looked each member of the party in the eye. "It does not matter whether you follow me or not and I do not ask you to, but you must make an educated decision if you choose to come."

As the flood waters through a broken levy gain strength and speed so did the soliloquy that unraveled around the party as the unlikely prince began to speak . . .

"I come from the far western coast of Oreth-Se, a kingdom once known as Antheria. I am the third born of my father's four sons and to my knowledge the only living heir. Heir to a throne I do not want. Heir to a throne that no longer exists. Nearly two years have past since the barbarians of the Shelian Isle, an archipelago that lies 150 leagues to the west of Antheria, and the neighboring Kingom of Oberland joined in an unholy alliance against my lands."

"Internal strife paved the way for the two kingdoms to slaughter my people and take their lands. In a series of events that are detailed with betrayal, deceit and murder my kingdom was left blind to the attack that brought a prosperous land to its knees. I swore vengeance upon those who took my people's kingdom and set upon the rulers responsible. With my father's sword, Harbinger, I sought out the Shelian that ruled over my land as well as the King of Oberland. Harbinger was the last image of the physical world either of them saw. I took their heads and displayed them for all to see, making it known to the gathering crowds that it was Devlin Ve'Quas, son of the King of Antheria, that served this justice. Each encounter nearly ended with my death, but fate delivered me safely back to the North Woods in Halcyon, the province furthest north in Antheria."

"The Shelian's merely replaced the figurehead that rules my former lands, but the royalty of Oberland set a bounty upon my head. Village after village was razed as the assassins of Oberland sought me out. Most pleaded with the Oberland warriors that they did not know of anyone of the House of Halcyon that had escaped the invasion, let alone a single rogue prince, but it did not matter. I came to realize that my conquest and arrogance had only endangered what remained of my people."

"The small group of Antherians that I had found and organized months earlier in the North Woods begged me to stay, but I knew that the forces against me were too powerful and focused. With the help of my people I escaped across the Fissures Sea in a smuggling sloop to Scholain in Vesterbraz. Merely one month later I had to kill three Oberland assassins that had tracked me down. I have wandered the greater part of Oreth-Se since, keeping to myself and searching for answers to questions I do not even know."

"And now this curious news from my old friend Kieven . . . My father? Alive? I personally investigated his death which led unequivocally to my brother Vargas who poisoned the King in a vie for the throne. And surely with his failing health, even if he were alive, it could not possibly be of his own volition. As for my mother, I was told that she died giving birth to my younger brother, Nobel, whose whereabouts are unknown. I can only assume that he met the same fate as all of the royal house . . . death or slavery at the hands of the Shelians."

"Kieven also spoke of the sorcerer Keth-tel. He tells me that Keth-tel, not the Shelians or the Oberlanders, was the instigator behind the fall of Antheria. It was he that negotiated between the two kingdoms for the invasion and the sole reward that he sought was the Heritage Stone. A single, cut crystal of modest monetary value that rested on the head of my fathers throne. Little larger than a fisted gauntlet, it was rumored to have had unknown magical properties. My family held little truth to the rumor, but revered the stone for its history and for its symbolic value. Kieven, always delving into the darker arts, assures me that the Heritage Stone does, in fact, possess a very powerful magic and in the wrong hands - presumably Keth-tel's - it can be devastatingly evil."

"I do not know the reason I feel compelled to travel to Hades. Perhaps merely to find the answers I said I was looking for . . . or perhaps the questions. I cannot believe that the being Kieven speaks of in the magic jar could possibly be my father. I find it difficult to believe my mother is alive after twenty some years of knowing her to be dead. Apart from Harbinger, the Heritage Stone may be the only remaining evidence of my family's existence. And my kingdom and home are devastated these two years gone. What ever else may be, the one thing I do know and believe is Kieven has given me the name of the beast responsible for the fall of my kingdom and the death of its people. Know this now . . . he will pay as did the others."

Dev stopped talking before the anger that was welling up inside him removed what remaining reason he held in his grasp. A silence filled the room that was almost painful. After regaining his inner composure, the prince spoke again, this time softly. "I'll be leaving in the morning. I cannot ask you to come, but rest assured there will be plenty of killing to be had." As he stepped through the doorway into the night he hesitated. Every member could see a gleam in his eyes and an unmistakable, if not uncharacteristic, grin through the unkempt, two year's growth of beard as Dev looked back over his shoulder at the party and added, "And there will be untold treasure for those of you who live."

After the ranger disappeared into the cool evening a murmur rolled through the crowd. Bolt noticed the bag of treasure Dev had left on the table. Save for a few gold pieces that the swordsman noticed Dev pocket, the bag sat unattended with the ranger's share intact. Atop the bag, a note folded in half with Bolt's surname, "Boscine," written on the outside caught his eye. Opening the note, Bolt shook his head. It simply read "Make sure the boys get an even share, I won't be needing it."