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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Bob Aberton" data-source="post: 255032" data-attributes="member: 1518">And now...Chapter 1 Thus, Nystyra and her new companion decided to leave town.  Of course, they had no money at all, but ELiad proved a crafty manager of finances.The Gnome was a bit of a jack-of-all-trades.  Sometimes he would perform magic tricks in the street - his "talking tankard" proved a great hit - and sometimes he would merely pick pockets.  However he acquired his money, he and Nystyra soon had enough to not only pay off Nystyra's bill at the inn, but also buy provisons and even a cross-grained old donkey who Nysytyra dubbed "Pebbles."Neither one of them, of course, had any idea where they intended to go, but Eliad's carefully planned method of travel seemed to involve walking aimlessly mor or less in one direction until he found a place interesting enough to hold his attention for more than 5 minutes.  So it was that they trudged up hill and down, across the broken moors and rocky outcroppings of the foothills of the Pillars of the Sky, a long rocky spur thrusting out fromthe north slope of the Tor, for two days.Nystyra was beginning to wonder if she was mistaken to travel with Eliad, as, for two days, they had not encountered any living thing larger than a squirrel for two days, when suddenly, up ahead of them, crouched on a rock, was something larger than a squirrel.As they drew closer, they could see it was a man, clad in moss green and russet garments.  An eagle, a noble creature  whose wings spanned a greater space than Nystyra with her arms spread wide.  The man had his head in his arms, and he didn't see Nystyra at first, but the eagle did.  Fixing her with a glare like a razor, it ruffled its feathers shifted around on the rock with an air of subtle warning, as though to say Master, we have company.  The man heard it and looked up.   He was a slender, tall sort of man.  He had green eyes and auburn hair that fell to his shoulders.  Nystyra noticed that he was, if not handsome, pleasing in appearance.  But his normally pleasant face was thin and drawn.  He looked like he had not shaved in days, and a long, nasty-looking bruise marred his forehead.  His eyes blazed with a mixture of rage and grief."Ahh...Hello," Nystyra said, somewhat uncertainly.The man stared at her numbly for a second, and the looked pointedly at her spellbook, which was slung from her belt puch, in full view."You...You might want...to stay away from there," he croaked, pointing toward a small town which lay about a mile away on the horizon.  As he lifted his arm, the sleeve of his shirt fell back to his elbow, revealing a tattoo of blue woad on his wrist - a blue snake, coiling up toward his forearm.  Nystyra knew by this tattoo that this strange man was a Druid, one of the few worshippers of the Old Gods left in Avalon.  The Druids were fast disappearing into the mists of time."Why?  What is going on that I should stay away from there?" Nystyra asked.  She was not about to throw away a chance for a comfortable bed and a hot bath, after two days of trudging through seemingly empty and seeming endless moorlands."A witch burning...No, no, a Druid burning,"  he said, half sobbing."Eh...one of your fellows?"  Nystyra asked, awkwardly, but intending sympathy."My brother!" the man cried.</blockquote>

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