Sitting in a roadside inn on the border of Reban and Khor, the strange quartet drew many curious glances. They tried to be as inconspicuous as possible; border inns were usually filled with rouges and outlaws so they felt safe for the time being; but where there were rouges and outlaws, there were bounty hunters.

After hearing Dev’s story of how he loosely bound the unconscious bull orc and swapped his armor before coming to his companions’ rescue, Kimba leaned back and sighed. “Are you two sure you won’t accompany us?” She pleaded to Sarel and Khaz; the latter just shook his head while shoveling horse stew into his mouth between huge gulps of watery ale. The druidess and Dev Von Fritz were going back to Isegor, the Khorian capital, to clear Dev’s name and present evidence of Isegoth’s corruption.

“See us off then,” Kimba said while standing; the former knight finished his flagon of ale and also stood. “I have parting gifts for the two of you,” she finished with a warm smile.

Khaz belched loudly enough for all to hear before sliding across the bench of the booth they had been dining at, “Ahh, made more room for this donkey piss they pass off as ale!” He exclaimed, causing the bartender to glance nervously in their direction.

Leaving the inn, the companions turned right and walked toward the stables where Kimba and Dev’s mounts awaited them. The cold night air was refreshing but chill. As usual, the dwarf wore no cloak, his massive arms and chest exposed through his scarred leather vest. After tipping the drunken stable keeper and leading their horses up the road a bit out of the torch light from the inn, the druidess stopped handing the reins of her horse to Dev. She rummaged through her pack and retrieved two packages; one she handed to the frost elf.

“Within is a druidic cloak almost the same as my own. It will mark you as a friend of my order.” She then bowed before him, “my thanks, Sarel Duthar, again.” Sarel returned her bow silently. She then turned to the obviously uncomfortable dwarf and opened the second package which contained a small axe. The slightly curved handle was obviously made of the same oak as her staff; the steel embossed head was fashioned from the claw of a giant ground sloth as hard as any steel forged by the best dwarven blacksmiths.

“For you, Master dwarf, a weapon worthy of your warrior skills,” she presented the axe to him. At first the embarrassed dwarf hesitated before grasping its haft in his meaty right hand; he tested its weight then tossed it up in the air moonlight glittered off the fine steel embossment while it flipped, end over end, coming down in his waiting hand.

Clumsily, the red faced dwarf bowed before Kimba and Dev who were both smiling bemusedly at his embarrassment. “It ain’t dwarven make but a fine weapon anyhow, me thanks,” he mumbled. “But I have a question fer ya, before yas ride off.”

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