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| Chapter One, Page Four |
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Darenthil was amazed at the strange creatures he read of, gnomes, dwarves, and with a shudder he remembered the books description of hobgoblins! It seemed that Sir Eoin too was not always comfortable with the countless races that he met in his travels.
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It had been weeks since the party had first arrived at Westdel, and Sir Eoin was eager to return to adventure and war. Dressed in a new suit of armor and wielding the sword he had won in combat against Gorgoth, the young knight wished for nothing other than another chance to distinguish himself.
It had been discovered when they reunited the Gnome girl with her father that she was a magic wielder of some sort. The once simple plot of rescuing a girl from kidnappers had quickly turned into something much darker, as the story was told that to Sir Eoin that the gnome girl had the possibility of very great magical capabilites and that the Hobgoblins wished to use the girl for some sort of 'weapon'.
Staying the with the Gnomes for so long had more than tried his patience, it had pushed it to its very limits. It was more than just the language barrier, the constant need for interpretation, it was also the fact that everywhere he went he was asked either two questions, the first was if he was an elf, the second was if he was a giant, and neither of those where true.
When Rorrin found out that there was some trespassing going on in a farm outside Westdel, Sir Eoin was among the first to suggest that they check on the trouble. If he was forced to stay with these kind, but inquisitive people one more day he might lose his refined demeanor and being to nock a few heads.
The day came and went and nighttime had fallen without incident, Sir Eoin and the party had settled down for sleep leaving Rorrin on guard duty. The night was passing quickly when suddenly Rorrin gave a shout and the group awoke to find Rorrin in fear of a single opponent. “What trickery is this?” Sir Eoin thought to himself, he calmly drew his sword and walked toward the limping opponent. “Rorrin afraid of a cripple?” Eoin said to himself, “These dwarves are finicky chara…GAH!” Suddenly Eoin realized the rational for Rorrins reaction. This was not a crippled gnome, this was a undead gnome!
It was easy to kill, but the realization that the land was infested with undead was an unsettling thought. No one wished to sleep and so the party began walking down the road toward a light in the distance.
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| Associated Regions: Westdel |
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| From the journal of Eoin Fitzpatrick |
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Contributor: Scott Brown |
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