Goldmight floated apart from the group. He smiled,and put his hands out to the fire. He basked in the warmth for a time. “You’re a lot like us, Bin.” Goldmight said. “The Leaves aren’t the best, or the most popular. We’re together, because we’re better that way.” “That’s a stupid way of putting it.” Pidelle said. she was enraptured in her books, making notes of a cobbled spell for a tent. “Is it?” Nutrose said.

There was rain in the trees. The soft downpour pittered down on the leaves, dabbing tears on the forest canopy. Beasts and birds flew away. They tried to find shelter and warmth from the weeping sky. One shelter moved slowly onwards. A carriage, with just over a half-dozen passengers, rolled over the dirt paths. The wheels churned through mud that was well on its way to becoming more water than earth. The carriage rolled to

“That boy is going to get himself killed.” Hilt muttered. “Because I’m going to be the one to do it.” “Hilt!” Book exclaimed. The sphinx ceased pacing, throwing her a look. “The Leaves?” Hilt asked. “Those rainbow castoff wannabee rebels? They’d find a way to muck this up even without a criminal organization in the area.” “And to top it off, Bin.” Book did a mental check of what he would need in order to

Yuva played on for a while longer, and put the lute away after the song. There were a few groans, and mutters about ruining an evening, but Counterpoint customers knew how to treat musicians. They were happy she came by, and thanked her for her time. “I promise some more songs later,” Yuva said as everyone returned to their drinks. Zibnizik nodded appreciatively, and smiled. “You play amazingly Yuva.” The elf blushed. “Thanks. I’ve played

Bin was falling asleep again. He wasn’t bored. Mister Path’s lectures were exciting, especially in his class on artifacts and the effect time and legend has upon them. They were full of stories, and debates on the very matter of magic, something the young ogre mage desperately wanted to know more about. In fact, Mister Path was in the middle of one such story now. “Imagine it, if you will. The great armies of the

The reason Zibnizik had not been in his room last night was unusual, unprovoked, and rather chilling for himself. He had actually been in Bel Haven, picking out the appropriate attire. How did one prepare for a luncheon with a beautiful woman? Zibnizik was a normal, rational, studious person. He did not go out on romantic excursions often…ever. It was both a matter of choice and not. He found so much pleasure in his pursuit