Lines of Fate -- Part 2.
                                       (Submitted by Morngrym)

     Kerik stretched and padded across the floor to the wash basin on the
table.  His sleep was good and he felt invigorated...Well worth the platinum
piece he spent for the room at the Rankled Boar Inn.  He washed up and
dressed, then went down to the common room for a morning meal.  The innkeeper
and his helpers were already busy serving food and even ale to some
customers.  People of all sorts sat around quietly talking and eating...so
different from the loud room the evening before.  The ranger took a seat and
waited for a serving maid to help him.  Half an hour later he had finished
his meal and relaxed all he would permit himself -- He then mounted his horse
and set out for the day.

     Kerik was an adventurer...one of many in the area it seemed. He came to
Neverwinter after reading a proclamation from its ruler, Lord Nasher posted
around Silverymoon.  The paper asked for assistance in bringing peace to the
area -- The people were struggling against frequent monster raids and the
ever-present threat of the Luskan Captains.  Kerik had spent too long doing
much of nothing in the past weeks after returning from his last job and he
was ready to get active again.  He had worked as a caravan guard near the
coast and was making good money...until the snows became too much and the
merchants settled down for the winter.  This left him to occasional
employment as a guide in the rough country and an almost addicting nightlife
in the many area taverns.  Both of these pursuits soon began to bore the man
though.

     So, here he was...traveling through Floodblest on his way to the
Neverwinter wood on a mission to rescue a lost item.  A group of wagons
carrying goods bound for the city was attacked and stolen recently by a well
known group of bandits.  Included in the shipment was a ceremonial sword for
one of the princes.  The royal family was more than willing to pay generously
for its return; Seems the item was rare and couldn't be replaced easily.  It
sounded like a good opportunity for the ranger to earn some money and explore
the area as well.

     The ragged gate swung open noisily as the stout ranger entered the area
of Nightsedge.  The main path through the area was well worn and easy to
follow.  Kerik carefully travelled through the trees, once hiding quietly to
avoid a large group of ogres and orcs passing by.  Finally he made it to the
city.  The battered walls and gates told of the past struggles in the region.
The ranger carefully examined the huge claw marks made by creatures long
ago...he shuddered at the thought of the terrible onslaught.  A few tattered
guards yelled to him from upon the walls.  Several moments later Kerik was
allowed into the battered city itself.  He replenished his supplies and found
a place to stay for the evening.  He would certainly need all his energy for
the coming day...

      Kerik was prepared to set out just before dawn.  A final check of his
weapons and he was off.  He passed through the huge door, back out into the
more savage portion of Nightsedge...this didn't worry him, though.  He was
confident that he could handle any creatures in this area...he wasn't so sure
about the monstrosities in the woods, though.  Soon he was to the gate of the
West woods, having only had one encounter, this with a group of aggressive
lizards.  He had dispatched the lizards easy enough and wasn't harmed.  The
ominous iron gates loomed ahead of him, threatening to steal his resolve.
With a silent vow he drew his sword and entered the area, the rusted gate
slowly creaking shut behind him.

     Neverwinter Woods was indeed an erie, frightening place.  Even the
strange stories told by adventurers in the taverns didn't prepare him for
this.  Mist curled along the ground that morning, and the bellows of distant
creatures sent shivers down Kerik's spine.  He was a brave man, but the place
had an almost supernatural trait about it...like it fed on the strength of
those who entered, sapping their courage.  He felt as though he was being
watched constantly, by someone...or something.  He felt small and alone...so
very alone.  

     He plodded on though, his boots soaked by the morning dew, as he
searched for the bandit camp.  To attack the entire camp would be
suicide...He hoped that most of the thieves were out.  Maybe he could even
sneak the item away without a fight...maybe.  He continued to the east,
always wary of nearby noises, on the lookout for any threat.  A small group
of tigers attacked him midway through his journey.  The fight way difficult,
but he killed most of the group...the others fled.  Several claw marks
covered his armor and his traveling cloak was torn to pieces.  He discarded
the ruined cloak and continued on, determined to complete the mission...a
short time later he was ambushed.




(To be Continued...In "Lines of Fate - Part 3".)