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Every day was the same these days. Were the good ones really in the past now? Times of excitement gone by, the unknown is now known, the lost is now found (or is it?). What is left is just a routine. The same routine all the time. Wake up ... go to the shop ... say hello to Eliza ... find no one else in the shop ... then back outside. The usual shout for looking for a single female would follow. Fooser figures one day, just maybe, someone would answer back. Was there a lady as desperate as him? They'd have to be very desperate to give it a try with a lizard. Sexual or reproductive value? None. In the past he could boast being an interesting lizard at least, but no longer. A maddening cycle of being bored, and the boredom causing him to be even more bored. Sylveria was different, she was always willing to try things, he admired that. After the shout, a day of endless work would follow, to the mine, back, to the mine. It was good money at the very minimum.

Money for what? A good cause? He was too cautious with investing his money. Women? That issue was already addressed. That left only one logical choice: alcohol and herbs. The timeless tradition of ingesting substances bad for ones mental and physical health.

There wasn't even anyone in the tavern usually. If there was, they weren't interested in ale. What's the point of a tavern without drinking?! It didn't matter this night, many people frown upon smoking herbs in the middle of town, so tonight, Fooser would go out into the woods alone, since he no longer had any friends to drink or smoke with.

The lizard crosses the southern road, where it goes passes the river towards the skeleton woods. (Best not to go too deep into them, for sure.) He carries a pickaxe over his left shoulder, and a light bag on his right shoulder, with his bottles and leaves. Although he wears no armor, he carries a poisoned sword on one side. With a dark robe, his dark scales are only visible on his neck and head, the hood drawn down.

Another day comes to a close, he crosses the long stretch of grass before making it to the edge of the woods. A perfect location, quiet, but not too far away or dangerous (usually). Going in too far would be pointless, but staying right on the edge would be too. Fooser hops over a few broken tree trunks, nearly stumbling and falling as he comes down, making it through the darkening woods. He stops, leaning against a conifer tree, to catch his breath and take a swig of ale.

The lizard makes his way through the trees even farther, apparently being quite familiar with the surroundings. A small opening within the trees begins to open up, inside is a neatly placed group of logs, that make a square on the ground, and a burnt out circle in the middle, as if the place has been used for campfires before.

Compiling a bunch of random branches, Fooser lights a fire in an amatuer manner, not paying too much attention to detail. The bag comes flying off his shoulder onto the ground next to him as he completes the fire. He plops down on one of the logs, taking another lengthy drink of his ale, looking to the sky and sighing. His eyes slowly come down to the bag in front of him, the top had untied during the fall, revealing sibanac leaves and other unidentifiable herbs.

"Not much point in using up all the good stuff at once, is there?" He says to himself, eyeing the bottle in his hand as well. He starts to chug the drink again, this time nearly choking due to engulfing it too fast, he coughs and moves the bottle away from his mouth, a few drops fall out of his mouth to the ground.

Fooser mumbles incoherently to himself, leaning back against a tree behind him. He struggles to keep his eyes open, they nearly shut completely before he opens them a bit again, then repeats. Eventually his arm slides down, the empty bottle rolls along the forest floor to his side. The poorly kept fire continues to burn in front of him, ashes and small bits of flame slowly creep along the ground, catching onto leaves and branches, and finally the small bag that was placed too near to the fire. The bag begins to burn, and the herbs inside as well, letting off a decent amount of smoke that blows toward the lizard.

Fooser's eyes slowly begin to open, the night sky still visible from above. He opens them cautiously, awakening from his sleep. He moans, getting back to a sitting position, looking up at the stars in wonder. It felt like a full nights sleep. "Uuuaaaahh." He stretches, only to stop abruptly. At his side, right where it fell from his hand, is his ale bottle, except something was different about it. Coming from the bottle was a steady stream of water, flowing out onto the dirt making the area muddy, but oddly enough, the bottle did not contain any water, and appeared empty to the normal eye.

Fooser bends down, and places his finger against the top opening of the bottle. The water stops flowing out just for a moment before a small hole breaks elsewhere, and water begins to come out. Fooser moves another finger over to cover it, and another hole opens up, and water flows out. A third finger comes down to stop it, but yet another opens. Fooser struggles to hold the bottle in his hands, getting frustrated with it. "AAaaagh!" He let's it drop to the ground, it lands safely in a pile of leaves (the ones from a tree, that is). Fooser eyes the bottle again as it lands, the water flows normally again out of the top only, and nowhere else.

The fire, once stronger, has died down to just a small amount of light. The rest of the light comes from the stars and moon above. Fooser scratches his head and loses interest in the bottle. He walks over and begins to examine the side of a tree. He begins to pull at a fish that seems to be stuck against the wood. Placing his foot on one of the seating logs, he gains enough leverage to rip the fish from the tree's grasp, grunting as he falls backwards with his prize.

"Looks good." He sits back on the log and looks down at the fish, tasty in appearance and smell. (To an onlooker it would look like nothing more than a clump of moss.) Fooser bites down on the fish, dropping it immediately, including the pieces in his mouth. He watches as nothing but water comes out of his mouth, his hands wet as well. "All I wanted is a damn fish!" He stomps a single foot hard against the ground.

"Why consume such wonderful creatures?" A femenine voice sounds from behind. Fooser spins on his rear to spot a female elf, with light hair, possibly blonde or even white, the night makes it hard to tell. A white and blue robe covers her entire body and even drags behind her. "Do some not even call you a fish?"

Fooser looks down at himself, for a second he gets fear in his eyes, but his attention returns to the lady. "Zelphia...I should've known. You look even better than last time, dear."

"And you are....as charming as ever, Fooser." The lady seems to look about with a very blank and confused look. She does not even walk towards the fire any.

Fooser sits calmly on the log for a couple of seconds silently, before his eyes look up to the trees. A raven flies through the branches above, and rests on one, looking down at the pair with a mischevious look. Fooser jumps up quickly, running over to 'Zelphia', hiding behind her, look around cautiously.

"What's the matter?" She turns her head around to look at the lizard, who is crouched behind her now.

"Him...he's here." Fooser says coldly.

"He's always here." She responds calmly.

Fooser's eyes widen in alarm. "No, I mean, he's HERE." He says again in a different tone.

"Oh...He's HERE." The elf says, looking up into the trees.

"No, he isn't here." Fooser follows her gaze.

"I agree, he isn't."

"He's not here. But he could be. He wants to be. But he wouldn't be here. He'd be far away. Waiting. Waiting to be here and do something mean."

"Of course, so why don't we---"

"Go give him a visit!" Fooser's nearly shouts, his eyes sparkle, all sense of fear gone in an instant. He smiles brightly, and runs to pick up his back. (Which is nothing more than a small rock, since it was burnt earlier.) "There is little time, let us hurry!"

A coin flips into the air. On one side is a lizard's tail, on the other, a (head of) cabbage. It lands gracefully into a gloved hand. The figure grabs on to it firmly, before putting it into position on his fingers to flip again. The man has a human-like shape, wearing a jester's mask, the left side painted black, and the right side painted white, a clear divide goes down the middle. Crickets chirp from all sides of the small clearing, a soft ping sounds out each time the coin goes up into the air.

The figure flips the coin into the air one last time as a sword goes right through him from behind. He stops motionless, the coin drops in front of him. He slowly slumps, then falls over onto the ground. Fooser retracts his sword from the defeated man.

"Why thanks, Fooser." Another man says out of the darkness. He steps forward, revealing a similar appearance, but this person has a mask with white on the left side, and black on the right. He strides over to the dead body and stops a couple of steps short. Reaching down, he picks up the small coin and wipes a bit of dirt off of it. "That man stole my coin."

The stranger's long white hair flaps as he spins around, pacing about the small clearing. Right as he turns his back again an arrow hits him by the shoulder, he lets out a gasp before falling to his knees, then onto his face. A third man jumps down from a nearby tree, with no bow though oddly. He walks calmly over to the second body, reaching down to the ground to pick up the coin. "That man stole my coin." He pauses for a moment, thinking, then reaches into a pocket of the other mans pants. "And my dice too." He pulls out a black pair of dice as well.

Fooser and the elfess just stand and watch the third man, who has a mask similar to the second, though it has a few fancy designs on it as well. Fooser moves his eyes from one side to the other, looking around. He then stops and smiles. "Greetings!"

"Hello again, friends." The masked man begins to flip the coin as the first one had, it pings in the air before landing in his gloved hand, and he repeats the process over and over. "Care for a game of chance, Fooser?" The figure says, a creepy smile always on the face of the mask.

"Sure...why not, we have time." Fooser takes a few steps foward, waiting further instructions.

"What is a game of chance, without a wager? Your soul will do."

"And if I win?"

The figure pauses. "Uh...Alright, now on to the rules. Heads is tails, tails is heads, you need tails to win if you call heads, and heads to win if you call tails, if you call tails when the coin is halfway in the air than that is voided and you need tails to win, but if it is three fourths in the air when you call it then you lose automatically regardless of the outcome of the coin itself, if you call heads one quarter of the way up then you also lose, unless the coin lands on its side, and if the coin lands on its side, you lose anyways so it really doesn't matter. Got it?"

The lizard stares back blankly with his dark eyes before letting out confidently, "....Right!"

"Ready...?" The man flicks the coin up with his finger, Fooser pauses, uncertain of what to do now, he blurts out "Heads!" as the coin rises halfway, and begins to come down. Both pairs of eyes watch as the coin approaches the ground, but instead of falling, the coin falls right through the ground, leaving no trace.

The masked figure stares at the ground, saying in surprise, "Well, that's never happened before."

"And there was no rule dictating the outcome of that, so we call it a draw and I keep my soul." Fooser smiles, and rolls his neck, letting off a small sigh.

"Ssss!"

They all turn at yet another intruder who comes running through the trees. "Ssss!"

"Eliza! How is business?"

The second lizard pants as she finishes her run up to them. "It'sss...Good." She sniffs out quickly before continuing. "I comesss with a messssage." After that comment Eliza sits on the ground, completely ignoring the situation now, and takes out a sack and begins counting coins. "Ahhh richesss...found thisss ssstrange coin in the woodsss too!"

"Hey, that's mine!" The masked man runs at her, reaching for her hand, she clutches a handful of coins tightly within her claws. "What side was it on when you found it!"

"Don't tell him!" Fooser jumps into the fray, the quiet elfess just watches from the side.

"Cheater!"

Eliza's hand finally releases, a pile of coins flies into the air, all of them gold in color except the one used during the coin flip, which shines a bright silver. The masked man spots it in the air and dives to try and catch it, but it is just passed his reach and it falls through the ground again. "Damnit!"

Fooser grabs at the masked man and pulls off his mask. Underneath is the exact same mask. He pulls that one off too to reveal the same mask again, and sighs. The man reaches his hand out, "I'll be having those back if you don't mind." Fooser gives them back, and the man adjusts them again.

"Anyways...what was your message, Eliza?" Fooser asks, turning to the other lizard.

"It'sss of grave importance."

Eliza flicks her tail.

"....And?"

"Urgent help issss needed."

Eliza looks around for customers.

Fooser shakes her. "And?!"

Eliza blinks a rapidly. "Oh...uhm...oh, yes. The halflings are after Darlok!"

The trio in the forest clearing gasp in unison due to this news. Fooser nods confidently, then puts one leg on a tree stump, and repeats. "The halflings are after Darlok! This is an injustice! We must rescue him at once!" He looks around at the assmbled group. "We have...one elder God, one younger God, a merchant, and myself. A lot of potential here, but not quite enough to save Darlok from the halfling hordes. Who else can we get...Aristeaus?"

"Sober." The masked man says quickly.

"Brer Beothach?"

"Sane."

"Nalzaxx?"

"Sick with the plague."

Fooser stomps his foot onto the tree stump. "Do I have to do everything around here?! Alright. We are short on people, but not on spirit. Let us go and find Darlok immediately!"

"Sounds like you all could use some help." A mysterious, yet familiar voice states from the shadows. They all look over to see nothing more than a figure, tossing a round object up and down. Suddenly, as it lands in the figures hand, it grasps it firmly and takes a large bite out of it. The entire group flinches as pieces of onion fall out of his mouth onto the ground.

"It's the onionball champion..." The elfess whispers.

Eliza flicks her tail.

The third lizard emerges from the shadows, a mirror image of Fooser, but he speaks with a different, much more arrogant tone. He pulls another onion out of his pocket and begins tossing it up and down again, still chewing on pieces of the first one.

"See, with a little good fortune, we will gain the support needed in our quest." The real Fooser states. "Does anyone know where we need to go?"

Everyone shakes their head.

"I guess we can go..." Fooser spins on his heel, his hand points in a slightly different direction than where he faces though, they all follow his movement by turning in circles. "That way." He makes a sudden stop, they all snap their heads to look.

"Fooser." The masked man says quietly. "Perhaps we should go where that sign says..." He taps on a wooden sign that merely says:

-- ^ Darlok's House ^ --

It points to a clear pathway out of the forest clearing.

"Oh...that solves that problem." Fooser rushes to his bag and picks it up. "Let us go!"

In front of the ever-expanding group lay a large pile of wood, as if someone made a childish attempt to build a castle. The sky near the area seems to be brighter than before, as if it is cloudy rather than night time. The group gazes upon a single man sitting on a log in front of the mighty structure, he picks the petals off of a flower while singing softly to himself. They all begin to look at eachother in confusion before Fooser gives a reassuring nod, and they begin to approach the man.

Spotting the intruders, the human in armor stands up awkwardly. "Halt!"

They all stop at the shouted command. "Who are you? Why have you come to this wonderful kingdom? The Kingdom of Kallaghorn?"

"We have come seeking safe passage through this land, and to gather and couragous souls, willing to go for a good cause." The masked man says, the creepy smile still motionless over his head.

Eliza looks around for customers.

"Aha! A good cause. I am always up for that--" The human stops abruptly, eyeing the elfess who watches him. "Excuse me miss, I prefer men." He clears his throat. "Oh, yes, good cause. Don't you know who I am?! I am Stephen Rothman, King of Kallaghorn. Actually, Ghorn is king .... as, well, a...co-king...if you know what I mean." Stephen smirks, looking up as if imagining something.

"Please Sir Stephen, will you join us to help save Darlok from the halflings who wish to annihilate him?"

"Aye! Kallaghorn must be represented in this glorious venture! GHORN!" Stephen draws his sword, looking back to the small wooden fort.

"Arr, what do ya want? Ya think I can be summoned like some orc for ya love games---Oh, visitors." A bearded dwarf sticks his head up from one of the "towers".

"He can come too, there is little time, so we must not sit around like this." Fooser grabs on to the human and they begin on their way again, the dwarf jumps out from the wooden fort and follows behind with his axe.