The Biscuits	Dollin - Druid 7th Level (PC) Gimar - Fighter 8th Level (PC) Jaron - Paladin 6th Level (PC) Little John - Fighter 6th Level (NPC) Nicola - Cleric 7th Level (PC) Rheaphlyndar - Thief 9th Level (PC) Wed - Mage 7th Level (NPC) Yodavan - Mage/Cleric 2nd/4th (PC) Lemuel - Cleric (NPC)
Locale	East of Irongate
Date	7th day of Harvester, 585 CY (Common Year)
Time	Afternoon

When the time came to leave, the biscuits went east out the dwarf gate and down the Great Staircase. Gimar looked east towards the entrance to the dwarven city, thinking fondly of his time there, and wished he could stay longer.

Cobb Darg met them in the grassy area to the east of the city. All the party knew from their short time in the city that this was the site of the Battle of a Thousand Banners. There, nearly 150 years previous, the hosts of Aerdy had failed to capture Irongate in a siege. Today the Iron League was gone and the free city was under siege again, but this was a battle not so easily fought with weapons and armor. The mayor smiled, then turned to the party and gave them his blessing.

Cobb	May the Gods go with you.

After that, the biscuits rode away from the city on their newly acquired horses. Patriarch Lemuel rode towards the middle, and a long box full of magic was attached to his horse, but otherwise the party rode in their usual formation.

Gimar examined his newest possession. The large battleaxe gleamed in the sunlight, and in carvings was a near replica of his original axe. He smiled as he thought of assisting the smith in finishing the weapon, just the previous night. The dwarven runemaster pointed out that it would not take an enchantment of the power of his original axe, but that was of no matter to Gimar. This new weapon was designed to serve a different purpose.

Dollin soared in the breeze. His horse could have been confused for the party packhorse, but the druid knew that the weight of a few weeks of food was nothing compared to a human. From his substantial altitude, Dollin surveyed the track ahead of the party. Now that the biscuits were on the first solid leg of their quest, there was much less interest in battling wandering monsters than in getting to Rel Astra in one piece.

Wed looked about him, at peace with the pace of the party. Now that they were out of the city, the mines, and the forest, he felt they were finally making real progress again. He thought also of the new magics he had acquired in Irongate, and the training he had received. Then he thought of his pupil, the apprentice Yodavan, who eagerly pored over Wed's spellbooks whenever he set them down. Wed considered the mage/priest for a moment, and then wondered about his own future.

Jaron's eye caught the glint of the sun off his brightly polished shield, but instead of looking away he stared into the light. Mighty Pelor had made him what heh was, although the paladin had met the deity at least half way. Each buckle shone and every leather strap had been replaced, and Jaron's armor was better than the day it was new. What new demons would the party face before they completed the quest?

Nicola's face was struck by a momemntary ray of the sun. The warmth gave her a feeling of joy, and she thought fondly of her time in Irongate. Her training with the combat master had gone well. She knew that the next time her weapon skills were called upon, her magical mace would be up to the task. Jaron had helped her mend and clean her armor, and Dollin had helped her select a suitable mount. Even Rheaphlyndar had volunteered to help pack her things -- an offer she refused, even though she was glad to see the rogue was feeling better.

Yodavan spoke with some of the burrowing creatures along the path, and reveled in their answer of "all's clear." The mage's thoughts then turned back to the previous weeks of training. He could now consider himself an experienced mage. The tutor in Irongate had mentioned he was now eligible for membership in a greater magic college, a thought which had swayed him slightly. He thought also of his duty to Baervan Wildwanderer. So many choices . . .

Little John rode on in silence. None of his queries had revealed any further information, and at times he doubted his own quest. Still he trained and prepared himself, body and mind, to deal with whatever it was that waited for him. He wondered how many of the Biscuits would help him? Then he turned back to the trail, knowing that the number would not matter. This quest was his to bear alone. The warrior just hoped he would be ready when the answers were revealed.

Rheaphlyndar flexed his newly repaired shoulder, now without a hint of pain. He thought back over the many days spent discussing Nola with C.J. Strange, he felt a deep connection to this sun god. For a time he had even considered chucking all the thieving and becoming a priest. But now that he was on the open road, and healthy, those thoughts were fading. The Touv and Nola's church would be able to thrive on the tithe Rheaph had given. In the back of his mind, though, he wondered if the church would employ him in some roguish fashion . . .

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