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Boots covered delicate feet as they picked their way cautiously through the forest. The night had flown. The birds were chirping merrily as the morning rays of the sun seeped through the boughs of the trees above onto the site of a massacre.

Gibberlings were common in this part of the Sword Coast. Scouts and soldiers told tales about the short but ferocious little monsters. Covered in thick, knotty fur, sporting claws and teeth, they made up for their lack of size with superior numbers and a madness that drove them to savage ferocity. Now and then they gathered in great swarms that rolled across the land, tearing apart and devouring anything that crossed their path! Though there were plenty of larger and nastier monsters out there in the woods, gibberlings were an ever-present threat that were all too happy to kill lone travellers and prey on small groups of armed men coming down the roads. Wise men surrounded themselves with swords and spears close by when reports of gibberling migrations reached their ears.

And this patch of woods was covered with bits of their corpses. An arm was hung up in a tree. A leg was flung across the grass like a stray sock. Their shattered corpses lay like broken toys. Torn at with teeth and claws, limbs torn from torsos, faces twisted by pain and fear of their horrible deaths. It was an absolute mess.

And there in the center of the mob, sprawled back against a tree and looking almost peaceful lay a large gnoll.

A mess of blood and guts, though how much of it was his own was hard to tell, he nonetheless breathed deeply and regularly. So blissfully unaware of himself and the carnage that surrounded him, that he could have been in his own bed, dreaming of cookies and horses and the fun games that he would play with his best friend. In the peace of sleep everything was normal, and the horrors of the previous night were far away.

Savan wouldn't hear when the booted feet cautiously crept up on him. He slept too deeply and was too inexperienced with resting in the wild to know any better. The first sign that he was not alone was the pair of hands that cupped his sleeping head and dug into the base of his ears. Scritching him oh so gently, in just the right way. His ears flicked and splayed out and pleased sounds rumbled in his throat. His brows knit together and his eyes squeezed some. The sounds in his throat became more urgent as half remembered dreams began to surge in his head. Violence. Fear. Blood. So much blood. And the surge of savage joy...

At last his eyes cracked open, pupils adjusting as light beamed over him. He winced and growled, and his ears folded back flat as the memories began to rush back to him. Savan tensed and whined. And it clicked with him later than it should have that he wasn't alone.

She was knelt there before him. Her arms up and fingers buried in his mane. Holding him close while she stroked his ears just as he liked. But her normally pretty brown eyes didn't sparkle with mischief. They leaked tears that streaked down her face. Her teeth were sunk into her bottom lip in a game attempt to not cry, and even managed a wisp of a smile. Imoen was working so hard to put on a brave face, but it was falling apart even as Savan watched.

And then it just hit him. Gorion was dead. His father was dead. And he had left him to face his death alone.

The tears came suddenly. Savan raised his arms and wrapped them around Imoen, pushing his muzzle into the crook of her neck. And there, among the dead, they wept.

///////

"Did you really think that I'd let you go off and alone without saying goodbye?" Imoen said as the two of them trudged through the woods. Away from the bloodied clearing. And heading towards another. "Come on, give me SOME credit."

Savan didn't answer. He was too busy rubbing his eyes, wiping away tears and trying to get blood out of his face. Though he'd been at it for ages, it never seemed to come out...or maybe that was just how it seemed to him?

"Come on, Snapper!" The smaller girl flashed him a big grin. "I HAD to come along! What would you do without me looking after you?" She swatted him on the bicep and picked up the pace, her shorter stride needing to move almost double the pace of her oversized friend. "And you can't expect me to stay behind in that drab old place while you get to do all the fun stuff!"

"Fun..." Savan smiled back but there was no humour in his expression. His arms were wrapped around his stuffed fox, squeezing him tightly. Imoen had known just what to bring him, after all. He already felt just a little better with the childhood talisman held close. Like he could function rather than curl up in a ball and sob.

"And so what if we can't go back now?" Imoen went on in her upbeat tones. "We don't have a fancy rare book to pay our way through the gates. But we've got each other, right? That's what's important. There's a whole wide world out there...and things may be dark, but we can face it together. Right?"

"Right..." It was either agree and nod along with his best friend or burst into tears. And Savan had the sneaking suspicion that when they got to where they were going, they were BOTH going to start sobbing at what they found. So he would put that off for as long as he could. For now, he would just listen to Imoen's prattle while he kept his eyes on the woods ahead of them. Now and then sneaking a look back at his companion.

At least she looked like she was prepared for travel, having worn sturdy leather boots and matching armour with a hood and traveller's cloak. A shortbow and a quiver of arrows were slung over her shoulder. Frankly, she looked more prepared than he felt with his stuffed fox and assortment of daggers and knives more suited to eating dinner than defending himself with.

...Then again, he couldn't get the odd taste that he was sure was blood and flesh from his mouth...so what did he know...?

With the sun in the sky the forest looked bright and welcoming again. The nightmares of the previous night seemed like a bad dream. Despite the corpse and gore spattered clearing that he'd woken up in. Despite the armoured man with the golden eyes. Despite Gorion's... ...The forest looked bright and welcoming again. Savan could almost imagine venturing forth into the great unknown, with Imoen and Gori... Heh. There was no getting around it, was there? As they trudged through the forest, Imoen keeping up a stream of comforting chatter, they were closing in on the place where Gorion had died for him. And all that he could do in the here and now as try not to think about it.

Easier said than done, obviously.

"I'm sorry that I wasn't any faster getting out here. It was pretty rough just getting out the front gate! First I had to gather up all your stuff. Then I had to look around the monastery when you didn't show up at your room. And then I heard what happened with Shank and Carbo! Couple of assholes...I'm actually surprised that they went so far as to try and kill you! I always thought they were a couple of cowards...especially after you messed up Carbo's hand. They deserved it anyway...jumping you like that..." Imoen shook her head and wrinkled her nose in disgust. "I wish I could have seen what you did to them!"

It was actually kind of soothing to hear her prattling. Sometimes Savan wasn't sure that Imoen fully 'got' what went on in the world, but she was always so supportive and upbeat, and hearing her talk helped to lift him out of the dark feelings.

"I guess it must have been pretty close to what you did to those gibberlings, huh? Hoo boy!" She grinned and shook her head. "Keep that up and we'll be just fine, you know? We'll watch each other's backs and before you know it we'll be safe and sound eating cookies. This all started rough...but it won't stay that way. So long as we're together, Snapper." She sounded so confident. So sure that everything was going to work out. And she didn't hesitate to snug up against his side as they walked, giving him an affectionate pat on the back. Out in the forest, cut off from the only home they knew...it was just another adventure to her.

Savan smiled some. For a second he let himself feel better.

Then they found it.

After backtracking all morning, from the clearing where the gibberlings had attacked him to where Savan had last seen Gorion they finally found it.

The signs of battle were all over the woods. The corpses of the two ogres were still and silent, hulking bodies horribly charred. In fact everything was charred. Savan and Imoen stared, jaws dropped at the sight.

"What...happened?" Imoen asked, subdued.

Savan went down on one knee and pulled a handful of grass from the ground to examine it. It crumbled in his paw, all burnt to ash. "Gorion must have..." He trailed off and pricked his ears up as realisation hit him like a punch in the gut. He felt dizzy. Nauseous. And then he was scrambling to his feet and running for the center of the clearing.

Two enormous bodies, charred and blackened with ogre proportions, Savan ignored entirely. His attention was fully on the third body. Wrapped in scholarly wizard robes, burnt and stuck to the body but nonetheless managing to partially protect their wearer. Not enough so that Gorion could live the firestorm that he'd brought down on himself and his foeman, but enough so that his traumatised son could recognise his features.

The world stood still. Savan could only stare at his father's body. Feeling...dull. Numb. Blank. His nose twisted, catching the smell of meat left over a cooking fire for too long. 'Dinner' he thought. 'He cooked me dinner just the other day.' And then his belly roiled and Savan collapsed to his knees, vomit spewing from his mouth.

He heaved and barfed and heaved some more, tears streaming from his eyes as his sobs were choked off by vomit. All the world became a blur to him, of ache and pain and a thousand memories of the mage at all points of his life. Smiles, laughter, words of wisdom. A force against the monsters under his bed, support when the world seemed to be squeezing him down. His father. Savan had loved him dearly. And now...he was dead. Horribly dead.

Because you're weak.

After a time his sobbing slowed as he ran out of tears to keep it up. And he became dimly aware of Imoen's more quiet weeping and the hand that she'd set on his shoulder, clinging to him tightly. Savan didn't understand at first, and only knew that he was grateful for her company. Raising his own hand, he set it upon her's and squeezed it wordlessly, snuffling and sniffing and rubbing the back of his arm across his face. Slowly climbing back up to his feet and turning to face his friend. He pulled Imoen into his arms and squeezed her tight, lifting her clear off her feet. She buried her hands in his mane and tugged tightly, and together time just blurred again as they shared their sorrow.

It couldn't have been that long before Savan and Imoen finally ran out of tears. Probably only a few minutes. But it seemed like forever to them...and with time staying put as it was, refusing to rush on past and change the situation, they both knew that...they would have to do something.

It was Imoen who made the first move. Wiggling in Savan's arms, coaxing him to loosen his hold, she took a half step back from him and forced herself to smile. If you could ignore the redness of her eyes then she looked almost alright. "There's...he had a letter on him..." she said in subdued tones. "The one that I took a look at... You should see it for yourself..."

"Uh huh..." Savan mumbled. Snuffling and rubbing his hands over his face, he turned about and stumped towards the center of the clearing, where poor Gorion lay. Imoen watched him, absently rubbing her ribs. Surreptitiously glancing around the clearing, noting the dead ogres and the signs of a fight... Whatever happened here...must have been big. She was bursting with questions but kept them bottled in for now. It was not the time...

It was the work of several minutes to properly search Gorion's body. Mostly because Savan was trying not to throw up again the whole time. Searching his father's body... Still smelling the char of his skin while recognising his features... Savan was a complete mess the whole time with tear tracks down his face and gritting his teeth hard while fumbling through his father's things. There was little enough to recover...the only thing that stood out was a battered wooden scroll case. The flames had licked over its surface but it had been built sturdily and weather proofed against rain and heat, and was intact. A glance over to Imoen and a nod from her confirmed that this was what he was looking for. A twist and a tug popped it open and Savan blinked his eyes and rubbed the back of an arm across them, trying to make out the words.

My friend Gorion,

Please forgive the abruptness with which I now write, but time is short and there is much to be done. What we have long feared may soon come to pass, though not in the manner foretold, and certainly not in the proper time frame. As we both know, forecasting these events has proved increasingly difficult, leaving little option other than a leap of faith. We have done what we can for those in thy care, but the time nears when we must step back and let matters take what course they will. We have, perhaps, been a touch too sheltering to this point.

Despite my desire to remain neutral in this matter, I could not, in good conscience, let events proceed without some measure of warning. The other side will move very soon, and I urge thee to leave Candlekeep this very night, if possible. The darkness may seem equally threatening, but a moving target is much harder to hit, regardless of how sparse the cover. A fighting chance is all that can be asked for at this point.

Should anything go awry, do not hesitate to seek aid from travelers along the way. I do not need to remind thee that it is a dangerous land, even without our current concerns, and a party is stronger than an individual in all respects. Should additional assistance be required, I understand that Jaheira and Khalid are currently at the Friendly Arm Inn. They know little of what has passed, but they are ever thy friends and will no doubt help however they can.

Luck be with us all.

I'm getting too old for this.

E

The gnoll read the letter through a second time, and a third for good measure. Anything to keep his mind focussed on not falling into a sobbing mess. His eyes flicked back and forth across the words, mumbling them out loud as he did. Eventually he lifted his head and peered at Imoen, his cheeks matted and wet but his eyes lucid, at least.

"...You said you saw this already?" he asked, to which Imoen nodded. "Do you know...who any of these people are? What they're talking about?"

She shook her head, twiddling her fingers together. "No... Something about strange events...danger in the dark...some names I never heard of before...it all sounded like a great big adventure..." She trailed off and looked sadly to Gorion's body. More like a nightmare...

Savan checked the message again, picking up something familiar. "Jaheira and Khalid" he repeated. "At the Friendly Arm Inn. That's what Gorion said to me. That...if we got separated then we should meet up there. That I could trust them..." Savan really needed to trust someone right now... And in the moment, he felt like he could really use someone to trust...

Thank goodness that he had Imoen, or he'd be wholly alone in the world.

"The Friendly Arm Inn. Sounds like as good a place to start as any. Maybe we should make our way there to start off. It's the only lead that we have after all...you know, apart from mysterious forces trying to do horrible things to you. Where is that...?" Imoen hmm'ed and crossed her arms, ducking her head in thought. "I guess that's our first step. Find this Friendly Arm inn. Find Jaheira and Khalid. And...hope that Gorion was right about being able to trust them."

"Gorion wouldn't give us bad advice" Savan said loyally.

Neither of them spoke for a moment or two. Both thinking close enough to each other to not need to say it...if Gorion had made all good decisions then they wouldn't be here right now.

"...Should we bury him?" Savan wondered, watching his father like he was going to get up at any moment.

"We...shouldn't just leave him out here alone" Imoen agreed, hands squeezing together tightly.

"...Do we...have the time to?"

"I don't know" Imoen was forced to admit. "Someone's bound to come looking... Maybe more of those guys who tried to get you last night."

"The armoured man..." Savan's ears folded back at the memory and he swallowed around a lump in his throat. Still, he hesitated.

"Maybe the monastery guards saw all the explosions and magic and stuff..." Imoen looked back over her shoulder towards Candlekeep, though it was obscured by trees. "Maybe captain Jondalar or some of the others will come looking. They'll take care of Gorion..."

"Maybe..." This was silly. Savan tried to rationalise it out, like he was doing one of his math problems. "Someone is chasing me. And...you too now. Though...you don't have to stay with me-"

Imoen snorted and crossed her arms indignantly. "Yeah right! We're sticking together, Snapper. Through thick and thin!"

Savan smiled briefly, feeling all warm and fuzzy at her words. After a moment, he cleared his throat and pushed on. "Someone is chasing US. And...from what I can see here, not all of the attackers from last night were killed. There are a couple missing. The magic woman...the armoured figure with the frightening eyes..."

"And if they got away, then they'll probably try again."

"They might even be coming back right now..."

"Which means...that we need to get out of here. That we don't have the time to give Gorion a proper burial."

"Even though he's my father" Savan finished softly, ears folding back flat. "Even though...he saved my life. Even though he...he died for me."

He could feel it coming again. The nausea. The tears. The thickness in his throat that made it hard for him to swallow. The dull roar in his ears and the whispered growl.

Then Imoen took him by the hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. He squeezed her hand back and it helped him to get through the next moment or two. "We need to get out of here" He said again, softly.

"Do you...maybe want to say anything to him?"

Savan hesitated. Then shook his head. "Gorion's already gone. I wouldn't know where to send the words. I just...hope that he's okay."

And that he can forgive me, he thought privately to himself. Oh father...I'm so sorry.

/////

Leaving the clearing and heading out of the forest was quiet and surprisingly simple. The forest wildlife seemed to want nothing to do with the clearing and the signs of violence and stayed far away from the young travellers. Which was probably a good thing, for Savan and Imoen were quiet as they walked. Focussing on their inner thoughts rather than paying attention to their surroundings.

Eventually, as the trees began to lessen in density around them they came to a small problem. Or at least Imoen thought so.

"You kind of stand out" Imoen said, frowning some and looking Savan up and down while he rummaged through his backpack. "If people are looking for a big gnoll with fuzzy ears and your number of spots, then maybe we should do something about that. Do you have any sheets? Maybe we could make a big cloak or something? Hide your features?"

"I think you're right...so did father." Savan felt a sharp pang at the mention of Gorion and hurried on. "That's why he gave me this." He pulled out the mask with a flourish, presenting it to Imoen.

She squinted at it some, puzzled. "I mean, it's a start." She tried not to sound too dubious. "It will hide your cheek bones nicely."

"Heh." Savan rolled his eyes and gave Imoen a light shove, one that made her stumble for a moment. "Watch this. Then talk to me about cheekbones." He planted the mask on his face and waited for her reaction. Through the eye holes he got to see just how wide her own eyes got as the magic took hold of him. "Ta da!"

"Holy smoke!" Imoen just stared. And stared some more. And tried to wrap her mind around the fact that her best friend since she'd been a little girl had just transformed in front of her eyes, from a large, bestial gnoll with a nonetheless endearing sense of awkwardness to him to an equally large and handsome human man. Long dark hair, blue eyes, lantern jaw, lots of muscles and size to him...at least that part stayed familiar. For the rest of him, Savan might as well have been a whole other race! Except for that smile. That kind of goofy smile that showed all his teeth, she would know that smile anywhere. "That's...wow! Gorion made that for you?"

It was the strangest sight to watch the man nod and beam and speak in her best friend's voice. "He said it was for our travels. That it would keep me from drawing a lot of attention. Since I'm a gnoll, and all."

"Yeah...I guess that's true." Even if he weren't being hunted by murderous assassins, Savan would grab a lot of attention by virtue of being a gnoll. If half the stories that Imoen had heard about other gnolls were true, then they would grab a lot of attention. Mind you...looking at him now, Imoen wasn't so sure that he wouldn't be grabbing attention of a whole other sort. "And it works just by pulling it on and off? It's just that easy?"

"I think so. That's what father said."

Reaching up, Imoen took hold of Savan's...face...by the cheeks and gave them a light tug. He murfed in surprise but that handsome human face obligingly lifted up and away and revealed the spotted muzzle underneath. "Well THAT'S creepy" she declared. "Like you're some kind of spooky shape shifter. Who stole someone's face and is prancing around in their skin. Waiting for everyone to fall asleep to steal THEIR faces too." She slowly grinned and tugged the mask down in place. "I like it! Do you promise not to steal my face, Snapper?"

"Imoen...!" Savan stared at her, jaw slack. And she broke into giggles and smacked him on the shoulder, pleased with herself.

"Face stealing aside, this is good" she explained as they resumed their walk through the woods, making their way towards where they thought the road was. "No one will have a clue who either of us is! We'll be at the Friendly Arm Inn before we know it!"

Savan could only nod in agreement to that. "And then..."

"And then we'll figure it out." She slipped her hand into his and gave it a squeeze. She smiled encouragingly until Savan began to smile back.

They progressed like that for a time. Hand in hand through the woods, there for each other. Perhaps a bit of hope that things would get better. The night had been horrifying. But...they were still alive. And they would figure it out.

When they met their first traveller, the mood nearly broke completely.

Neither were sure what to expect of a mysterious assassin. Would they be another ogre? Another mysterious and armoured figure brandishing an enormous sword? A dark spellcaster with their face covered and weaving mystical powers? Or would they look just like anybody else? Like Shank and Carbo, a couple of stout young men with knives and murderous intent?

Really, the first person that Savan and Imoen met on their travels looked like neither of them. They came upon him as they came out of the woods and approached the road leading north and away from Candlekeep. And there he was, ambling back and forth across the road as though he were waiting for something. Mumbling to himself in a tone that neither could hear. Savan froze in place at the sight of him, and even Imoen was taken aback. Though after the moment passed and he made no aggressive move towards them, they could take in his...strangeness.

The man looked like a wizard. Both Savan and Imoen had known wizards before in their lives. Many lived in Candlekeep and more were always visiting. There was always a certain something to them that made them stand out...the way they dressed, the robes, the hats, the pouches and books and looks of wisdom they had. This man took the wizard theme and ran it into the ground. The tall and pointed hat with the floppy brim. The long and bushy beard with matching eyebrows. The long and voluminous red robes that seemed to flutter in the wind. The old and gnarled staff that he waved in the air as he paced back and forth down the road. He could have stepped right out of a fairy tale where the wizard spoke to a brave knight on a quest and gave him some sort of riddle, that would turn out to be helpful advice in the climax against the fearsome dragon. Mind you, those brave knights generally weren't played by fearful gnolls or sneaky girls.

Whatever the case, Savan and Imoen were taken aback by his presence. They stayed by the edge of the forest, a few dozen feet from the road where the strange man walked. Staring at him in silence for a few moments.

Eventually Savan leaned down to Imoen and nudged her lightly. "Hey. Who's he?" he whispered.

Imoen hemmed and hawed and glanced up at him from the corner of her eye. "How should I know?' she whispered back. "Some kind of traveller? Heading to Candlekeep maybe?"

"What if...he's one of those guys? An assassin?"

"He...looks more like some kind of travelling performer."

"Like a clown?" Savan squinted and peered at the old man, trying to imagine him with juggling balls.

Imoen shrugged. "I was thinking more a stage magician. Not exactly an assassin or bounty hunter, right?"

"I guess..." Savan frowned and hesitated. "Should we...go talk to him? Maybe try circling around and staying out of his way?"

"I dunno... Maybe." She hesitated though, thinking. "We can't go running away from everyone we pass on the road. But maybe we should this time."

"We're right next to where Gorion and I were attacked, after all..." Savan agreed, his ears folding back.

"Right. And we have to get to this inn place. The Friendly Arm Inn."

"Otherwise we're stuck in the woods. With more assassins and gibberlings and everything else that might want to kill us."

"And we can both agree, being killed is a pretty deranged thing to be hoping for."

"With all that's going on in the world, travelling does seem to be the domain of the deranged. Or the desperate!"

Imoen acked. Savan jumped and flinched. The old man merely smiled and waved to them from where he stood, looking more amused than anything at their reaction to his speaking up. "Ho there, wanderers! Stay thy course a moment and indulge an old man. I've not seen any travellers in a ten day! And I feared I'd not get the chance to trade words for another ten day or more."

The pair nearly bolted in that moment. If the strange old man had been any less strange or old then they certainly would have. As it was, he was so peculiar that their natural instinct to flee was stymied, and they found themselves approaching. Cautiously. No more than a step from each other. Savan so very conscious about the mask that covered his face.

The old man didn't notice a thing, just smiling encouragingly and clasping his gnarled staff with his gnarled hands. "You...do certainly seem more of the latter than the former, if I may say so" he said not unkindly.

"Well...that's not untrue..." Savan ahem'ed some and ducked his head self consciously. "I...we...we were travelling. And were attacked. In the night." Getting the words out helped a little or seemed to. "An armoured man. Some ogres and a...spellcaster of some sort. They attacked us. Father...he held them off. Said to run. I should have stayed...it was me they wanted anyway. That's what the man said."

He felt Imoen tug at his sleeve some, trying to shush him, and he bit his lip to try and choke off the rush of words before it turned into another mess of sobbing. The last thing he needed was to fall apart again.

"You said you've been...travelling a lot" he said, peering at the older man. "Do you...have any advice for a couple of desperate travellers? Maybe...how to get to the Friendly Arm Inn?"

The old man regarded the pair sympathetically, particularly Savan. Clutching his staff tightly, he sighed and raised a hand to adjust his hat, nodding slowly. "Ahhh dear...I asked the question and yet the answer was more informative than I could have expected." He raised his staff and pointed to the north along the road. "Keep to the road. Move quickly and don't stop for anything. You two should reach the Friendly Arm Inn by nightfall. Wherever you may travel next, you will find safety there. At least for a time. And you must remember, caution is a fine thing and suspicion of the unknown will keep your well and safe. But too much can blind you to those who might be your allies." He smiled kindly to the surprised duo and nodded down the road. "Thank you for satisfying an old man's curiosity. I do wish you well on your way...and may you find safer times."

And what could they say to that? Savan ducked his head some and nodded, a bit disappointed. Though what had he been expecting? Some wise parable that would solve all his problems? At least the old man wasn't aggressive. "Thank you" he murmured, not resisting when Imoen slipped her hand in his and started to pull him along the road. "Have some safe travels, sir."

"And you too, wanderers. You too."

The old man watched them head along the road, walking as though they'd never take their feet off of it again. Though they would have to. That was the thing about travelling. You never know where your feet were going to take you.

He heaved a sigh and let his eyes stray to the edge of the forest. He would have to go in. If the children were on their own, then Gorion must be left behind. It was a poor state for a man like him to be left in...the bookish scribe had done a great deal of good for too many people who'd never know or appreciate it.

Not that he could blame the young ones. They hadn't asked for this situation after all...and they were going to have a long, hard road ahead of them. It would be convenient if Gorion had somehow managed to take all of the attackers with him and remove all witnesses... And no doubt because it would be convenient, there would be a description of Savan passed out to every cutthroat and mercenary from The Gate to Thay.

"Ahhh dear me." The old man shook his head and tugged his hat down some. "I really am getting too old for this. Well, nothing to do now but leap and pray. You raised him well, old friend. That much I know. ...With any luck his father has no grip on him."

Sighing some, he cast a last glance down the road, where the young travellers were already fading out of sight. Raising his staff he gave it a light thump against the ground and flickered from sight.

Concerned as the two were, the two didn't even notice his disappearance, eyes fixed on the road ahead and to the future.