[Our heroes, along with Enerii and Azriin, reach a rapidly flowing river. They have reached the Dire Straits of Nopflrr. Forunately, another person approaches them.]

Felicitaions, travelers! I am Makkin Tirre, a local hero in these parts. I can give you small craft, and help you down these Dire Straits. All the boats must stay together, in fact, they should be bound. Not too many dangerous animals can live in rapids, but along the sides there can be many a creature waiting to snap off a head, or some other unpleasnt feat.

The questers accept, and the boats are tied together. Everyone climbs in, and they set sail, Sir Bowen and the local hero manning the oars. They go through the Dire Straits, perilously navigating as they are buffeted side-to-side by the rapids. To their left are the Knotting Hills, so called due to the patterns which adorn them. Whether they are cliffs or hills is difficult to determine, but there is nothing which says there must be a direct distinction, since such terms are devised by humans, and not by nature. Suddenly, an arrow flies down from above, narrowly avoiding Sir Bowen. Our heroes, the ones who managed to see it at least, look up. On a high ledge can be seen a handful of riders, speaking in a strange dialect, and firing arrows down at the questers. As more hit, the boats are in danger of being seperated. The one containing Dhalric and Noman breaks off, as the two of them scramble into the next boat, and their craft drifts away, crashing against the rocks.

Come on, people, post! We don't want the five-board curse to strike again!

Oh, and Enerii wasn't coming with them. It the end of the last board it said he "walked off"

Well, I wasn't meant to be a recurring character anyway.

And if the guys run into someone named "Peetrr Nuun", I'm quitting.

[The boats arrive at Steen's Spring, their troubled voyage through the Dire Straits complete]

Here you are. I assume this was your destination. I will have to remain here, a hero is needed in a place such as this.

(A nearby bard is playing a tune which seems to require a lot of strumming.)

What is the name of that song?

(The bard looks up from his lute.)

"It's called We Get Money For Not Doing Much At All. It's about how bards can make quite a good living singing and playing for people."

Ah. You might want to tighten that title a bit.

"Good idea! *strum strum* I want my Emmmtivee..."

Sir Bowen looks, with an amused expression, at Keeran's cheerful strumming and singing. As the song draws to a close, the knight puts a hand on his comrade's shoulder.

Well played, Keeran. I couldn't catch all of the words, but judging by the first line... is it a love song, perhaps?

Not quite..thank you for the use of your lute, friend bard.

(Keeran hands the instrument back to the jongleur, who resumes practicing his song.)

Now, what were we doing, again?

to Keeran
We were meaning to rest here, before you visited the Sultans of Ss'wieeinng about those people who attacked you in the tavern.

to Dhalric
I suggest we and the Baron head for Silvercliff at daybreak tomorrow. This is only the first part of an important task which we have less than three weeks to complete!

to Shanlir
How does that suit you, Baron?

to the rest of the party
Anyone else can stay here, come to Silvercliff or go with Keeran.

The Baron looks at Sir Bowen.

That would probably be a good idea, Sir Bowen.

Dhalric scratches his chin for a second.

Azriin, Keeran....would either of you happen to have any Potions of Flight handy? We could probably reach Silvercliff faster by air, but Greatwing can only carry two people safely.

I can fly on my own, but can't carry anyone.

I wonder if Meyrill, the wizard, can help.

Indeed I can. He produces a small glass bottle. When we are about to leave take a few sips from here and you shall fly. It will last for three hours so please don't drink to much in one go or we shall run out. I will acompany you.

Thank you, good sir Wizard. Now, we shall find a place of repose, and listen to the playing of the bards and musicians. Dunwyn would like it here. He's probably been before, seeing as it's so near where he currently lives. Noman, I would assume you will be remaining here to join in the revelry? smiles

Nay, I shall accompany you on your noble quest.

To Noman
Thank you, good bard Noman.

To Dhalric
Remember when we get to Silvercliff you must return to Oskyr Myor with the Icefrost Crystal. You will find the amulet to handle that, while I shall locate Lady Nxalea. I am, after all, the leader of this perilous journey.

But first, some much needed rest and recreation.

Sir Bowen leaves the other members of the quest to wander their separate ways for the time being, and himself takes a look around the area. The sun is setting behind the hills, which are red as if on fire with the glow. The clouds and sky are in many colors, pink, gold, pure white, all displaying a scene beloved of pastoral artists. Below the sky are a combination of fields and hills, and barely visible through them is the sea, with a settlemnt atop the silver cliffs which give the place its name. The waves crash against these great features, but not so much as to detract from the calm sense the setting radiates. The music played in the background also assists the feeling, and Sir Bowen must struggle to keep his knightly air. Soon, however, he is forced to rest on a patch of soft grass nearby. It has been hard work rowing through the Dire Straits, and since he is accustomed to sleeping outside on the unfloored ground, he finds no trouble resting. He has certainly felt worse.

Several hours pass, and he remains asleep. His early repose, however, causes him to awake earlier than usual also. It is still the dead of night when he opens his eyes. No music plays, but the nocturnal creatures provide enough noise to prevent the eerie silence so often associated with such a scenario. All the bards and minstrels have left, presumably gone into the small castle, or tower, or whatever it should be called, that is adjacent to the outdoor facility. He edges his way up, realising that he is the only person who can defend such a place at such a time. He decides to look around the place, partly because he didn't have a chance to before he succumbed to sleep, and partly to keep a look out for any danger. Scanning his surroundings, he strides with a soft step. None of the other questers can be seen, they must also have gone inside... he hopes. Why didn't they bring him in also? Perhaps they did not wish to wake him, knowing he needed rest. Then one of the people who resided at Steen's Spring must have said it was safe. Yes, that must have been it. Or maybe they couldn't find him? No, he wasn't too far from everyone else for them to have given up before they found him. He doubts they could have given up so soon, especially Keeran.

As he looks about, he finds himself at the spring itself. He hasn't seen it before, but he realises that must be it. It is surrounded on three sides by large uneven bodies of rock, and it is an average-sized pond with water pouring upwards, fountain-style, from the centre. Strangely, very little sound is made in this process, just a tranquil lull. Water also trickles away in a small channel from the pond, specially designed so the pond does not become too large or too small. He lowers his hands to the shimmering reflective pond, scoops up some water, lifts it to his mouth and drinks. It tastes simply of water, but there is something different he cannot put his finger on. It must just be due to the source. As he stands there, the water shimmers more than usual, and the upspurt of water stops abruptly. The water forms features of a face, a female face it seems, but it is uncertain. The knight hears a whispering voice, and as he does, the watery lips of the face seem to move in syncronization.

"Return the Heart of Power to the Temple, or the gods will not be pleased," it says, its tone not aggressive, or in fact showing any emotion at all. "Remember, you have only two weeks or they will destroy all the area near Hart's Hope."

'They,' you say? Surely you mean 'we,' as are you not one of them?

The voice speaks again, in answer to Sir Bowen's question.
"No, I am only one of their sprites. A water sprite I am, bringing news from their realm. They are most displeased."

We don't have enough information. But tomorrow... tomorrow we will find more! Unless you can tell us who could have stolen the... the 'Heart' only a few weeks ago!

"I do not know such things, and neither do they. They do not know everything which goes on in the lives of mortal beings. They may have great power, but they are not omniscient."

Well... do you know where the Heart of Power was... before it was stolen, I mean?

"That I do know. After it was retrieved from the Priest of the Demon King by Sandonos, messanger and errand-runner of the gods, it was taken to a nearby location and placed in an all-but inaccessable cave. Its divine influence brought many to the area, and they constructed a town around an over the cave. Very few knew of its existence, but it was able to permeate their subconscious. That was 400 years ago. Now the town is known as Hart's Hope, due to a corruption of Heart's Home, referring of course to the Heart of Power, but many did not know if it as more than a legend. It had of course, existed for millions of years then, since a time of which we do not speak. In the present day, or rather, some days in the past, someone must have found the Heart in the cave, and taken it away. I do not now his motive. Perhaps he was seeking the Underworld, a foolish notion, or he may have been drawn to it."

Sir Bowen is enthralled, but one question persists.
How do you know all this, and yet you know not enough to assist us further.

The face seems to smile, but it is hard to tell.
"I learn much durning my time in the realm of the gods, but I cannot know all. Not even the gods know all. The early days of the Heart's term of location in the cave in present-day Hart's Hope were much scrutinized, and the behaviour of the people much observed, by the gods, but as time went on they relaxed their vigil. They learned their mistake. Go to Silvercliff, and find out what you can!"
The face shimmers and disappears. Sir Bowen rubs his face, and trudges to the building. How can ancient records provide information on a recent theft? Perhaps there will be a way, but he knows that the best thing to do will be to cross-reference information on the past from the records with information on the present from Shanlir.

He approaches the tower and knocks on its heavy wooden door with its heavy wooden knocker. A sound of awakening can be heard, and a hatch creaks open.

It is I, Sir Bowen. I am returning.

"Oh, it's you, is it?" says the man. "We just decided to leave you out there."

The door is opened, and Sir Bowen enters. He makes his way up the winding stone staircase, and int a side chamber where he rests upon a bed, tired once more, as any supernatural occurence will make one.

Knock knock knock

(The door to Bowen's chamber opens and Keeran looks in)

There you are! It's nearly four past sunrise and you're still asleep. There's a bit of breakfast yet if you want it. You also might want to come down and watch the bards do the Safftii Dance!

(The door closes)

Bowen smiles, amused at his friend Keeran. He gets up and realises he has fallen asleep in his armor. He then remembers about the conversation he had the night before. Or was it a dream? Possibly, but even if it were, it might be of some importance. Divine, or in his case, semi-divine visions are not unheard of. He tries to remember the framing of his experience, and manages to work out it must have happened, because he fell asleep outside before it happened, and has just woken up inside. Unless he's a sleepwalker.

He leaves the room and walks quickly down the corridor, following Keeran. He follows him down a spiraling staircase to the ground level. He stops him in the foyer.

Keeran... there is no time! I must be away to Silvercliff with Dhalric and Noman. Say... didn't you intend to see the Sultans of Ss'wieeinng? Yes... I wanted to make straight for Silvercliff, but you were adamant.

He locates Dhalric, Noman and Meyrill.

Dhalric, Noman, sorry I'm late, I will explain later. Meyrill, do you have the Potion of Flight ready?

Keeran, goodbye for now. I shall return soon.

I'm posting this here because no-one seems to be reading the Discussion Board any more - this blue text can be moved there if necessary. To the authors of Keeran, Noman, Dhalric, etc: Please read over previous posts as I do! This board is so slow it's easy to forget why chaarcters are doing certain things, but we must have consistency!

Dhalric looks at Sir Bowen.

I'm ready. Greatwing can carry myself and one other. That would help conserve one of the Potions of Flight in case it is needed for something later.

I, Melissa Dernhelm, will come with you also, Sir Bowen!

Meyrill hands Sir Bowen the flight potion, and he, as well as Melissa, Shanlir and Meyrill, drinks from it. Dhalric gets his gryphon and Noman begins his flight incantations. At first, the drinkers of the potion feel nothing unusual, but as they try to lift themselves above the ground they find that they are suddenly able to. It takes some getting used to, but they all manage to fly toward the town of Silvercliff. It takes less that three hours, so no more doses are required. They all land on their feet inside the walls of the city. Several houses and other similar buildings are positioned to make streets out of the hard ground, and horse-drawn carts wind their way around.

Well, we survived the journey, and no-one seems to be arresting us. I shall wait for Dhalric.

Many people react as the gryphon, Greatwing, descends and lands beside the others. Dhalric climbs off and walks up to Sir Bowen.

Ah, Dhalric, there you are. I trust you remember Oskyr Myor's request. You must seek out the amulet. I shall locate Lady Nxalea. Melissa, I assume you will accompany me.

Author's Note: Noman doesn't fly in human form... he actually changes into an eagle.

Yes Sir Bowen, I will acompany you.

Yes Sir Bowen, I will acompany you.

The knight and his squire leave the company.

It shouldn't be too hard. Shanlir said Lady Nxalea lived in the only three-storey building in Copperspike Lane which wasn't an inn.

He and Melissa go up to the building, and he knocks. The door is answered by a small lad.

Is this the residence of Lady Nxalea? I wish to see her, I am on an errand.

"Right this way, sir!"

The boy leads them up a flight of stairs, and along a small landing. The lad knocks on the door.

"Who is it?" comes the voice from the inside.

"There's a knight and a maiden here to see you."

"Send them in."

The boy stands aside, and Sir Bowen and Melissa enter. Lady Nxalea greets them.

I am here because I seek information on the Heart of Power. It was stolen some days ago from its resting place in Hart's Hope, and I was wondering if your records could help us find out who might have stolen it.

No one notices as Dhalric takes out a strange blue-black gem and places it in a notch on Greatwing's saddle. The Gryphon begins to transform into (NOYB....yet)!

Follow Sir Bowen and Melissa, but stick to the shadows. I have a feeling that their task may lead to trouble. The wrong people have to be aware that they're planning on visiting Lady Nxalea.

Greatwing, in his new form, smiles at Dhalric and runs off.

Now to find that amulet!

Dhalric heads off in the other direction.

Lady Nxalea d'Vashquiel is a very tall woman in a large, elaborate, aesthetic-looking dress.

Edivin... [she nods. The boy understands and leaves]

Yes, the Heart of Power. So its tale is not yet over? I thought not, even if I had hoped it was. What is it you wish to know?

Sir Bowen: "I already know much of its history, I ask for your idea of who might have taken it so recently."

Then you know that its latest holder was a priest of the Demon King?

"Yes."

Well... I suspect, if anyone took it, it must have been another of the Evil One's followers. There is a cult of his, two miles north of here. No-one has done anything about it yet, for it seemed to do no harm. However, stealing the Heart would do great harm, and action must be taken if it is determined that one of them has taken it. Sir Knight, you and your squire must go there and find out. There is a tailor's shop across the street, he will fit you with robes for the cult. Wait, I shall accompany you, he will acknowledge my authority more than that of a knight he has not seen before.

Dhalric knocks on the door of Thorbin Greyspike's home. Several seconds later, a woman in a yellow and crimson dress answers.

Yes, may I help you?

Dhalric smiles.

Yes, ma'am. I need to speak with the mayor on a matter of the utmost importance.

The woman looks disappointed.

I'm sorry, sir. The mayor is feeling quite ill right now, and isn't seeing anyone. May I ask what the nature of your visit is?

Dhalric hands the woman the note from Oskyr Myor.

Thank you. I'll be right back....

The woman disappears into the house. About a minute later, Dhalric hears a sickly male voice roar...

The Demon-Dragon?! Give *cough, cough* him what he *cough* asks for immediately!

The woman returns about a minute later with a small silver box, and hands it to Dhalric.

This box contains what you seek. The amulet within summons the Icefrost Crystal and lets the wearer control it, as well. However, it has one flaw; the wearer is extremely vulnerable to fire while using the amulet.

Dhalric hides the box beneath his cloak, and bows.

Thank you very much. This will be put to good use!

Dhalric runs off to find Greatwing and the others.

Dhalric runs into Greatwing, who looks like a (NOYB) instead of a Gryphon. Greatwing fills Dhalric in on what he overheard while watching Bowen and the Lady Nxalea (he has EXCELLENT hearing, no matter what form he's in)...

Two miles to the north? That puts them right at the edge of the Darkmere Swamp! A horrible place, indeed. I'd better scout ahead. In secret, of course.

Dhalric pulls the silver box out from under his cloak and hands it to Greatwing.

Here is the amulet. Take it and transform back into your Gryphon form as soon as you get out of town, then fly it to Oskyr and his allies and soon as possible. Then wait for me at the Grimy Goblet Inn here in town....in humanoid form, of course.

Greatwing nods `affirmative', then runs off with the silver box in his...hands.

Now to see if I can get to the Darkmere Swamp before Sir Bowen does....

Dhalric runs toward the northern gate.

(Dhalric barely makes it outside the gate before a black blur shoots from the woods and knocks him off his feet. The fighter quickly regains his footing and notices his attacker several paces away. A thin, devilish creature, holding a glimmering red saber and covered in spiked metallic armor. It crouches, its weapon held over its pointed head in an offensive position. With burning lava-colored eyes it regards Dhalric for the briefest of moments, then with the speed of a loosed crossbow bolt, it attacks!)

Before the beast hits him, Dhalric leaps into the air and draws both of his double-sabers as he does a 360 flip. He comes down behind the creature and nails a roundhouse kick to the back of the monster's head right between two of the spikes.

I don't have time for this....

He crosses the swords in front of him in an `X' shape, then does a double-slash with both weapons. Instead of the blades striking the beast, the slashes produce blasts of mystical energy which crackle over the beast, causing it to howl in agony!

You'd think the Demon King would know better than to send a minor demon after me....

Dhalric puts the double-swords back into an X again. The creature charges at Dhalric, but he side-steps it and delivers a slash that chops off the hand that the demon is holding its weapon with.

HSSS....

(The creature seems to laugh)

A demon? No, nothing that mundane. Your own folly to have enemies in such high places.

(The creature quickly regrows its hand and recovers its weapon. The two opponents clash again in swordplay of stunning ferocity. Dhalric appears outmatched, and soon he is bleeding from two small wounds in his arm and side. The creature gestures, and glowing energy drifts from the cuts to the black monster's sword, weakening Dhalric considerably. His enemy, however, begins to grow larger.)

HSSHSSHSSHSSHSSS...

Sir Bowen, Melissa and Lady Nxalea leave the tailor's shop. Lady Nxalea is attired as before, but Sir Bowen and Melissa are now wearing long, black gown-like costumes, with no hoods, but with a small red circle on the front left.

Now, let's go! Thank you for your help, Lady Nxalea.

They begin to walk toward the northern gate.

I wonder where Noman and Dhalric are?

As they draw nearer the gate, they can see outside the predicament Dhalric is in.

I must help him fight that monster. Melissa, find Noman and tell him.

Meyrill appears suddenly

No, Melissa! You're squire, stay with Sir Bowen, I'll find Noman!

Dhalric stands tall, obviously in great pain. He holds up his double-swords again, and they begin to glow with a bright blue-white light.

So....you must have been sent by one of the gods, then.

Dhalric smiles deviously.

I think you should know that these are no ordinary weapons you see in my hands. They are the ancient weapons of legend known as...The Forsaken Blades of Az'thra!!

The monster looks horrified as Dhalric begins to cross the swords into an X over his head.

(The creature can see its fate standing before it. Its last act before Dhalric unleashes the incredible power of his mystical weapons is to hurl something small and black at the fighter. Then the creature is blasted to pieces as Blacksilver performs a mighty double-handed slash, energy pouring from his twin blades. The danger eliminated, Dhalric notices a thin obsidian blade buried to the hilt in his chest. Before he can extract it, it dissolves in an opaque mist, and an incredible pain sweeps over him.

The creature's damaged head speaks...)

HRRGGHHH.....Even in defeat I have my vengeance. You will die, enemy of mine. The curse of Dakar be upon you. Your remaining days can be counted on the span of one hand. Only...COUGH....can save you...HSSSSSHSSSSSHSSsssss.....

Sir Bowen and Melissa run up to Dhalric Blacksilver and the head of the creature.

It looks like we might not be needed here.
to Dhalric
Don't be alarmed by our attire - we are dressed thus to infiltrate the Cult of the Demon King two miles north of here. Shouldn't you be continuing with your task?

Dhalric raises an eyebrow and begins to speak, obviously in great pain.

If...you're going to the Cult of the Demon King, you'd better...take some flasks of Goldenrod Essence with you. It'll ward off the demons if you're discovered.

He grimaces in pain, and stumbles as he walks toward the edge of the road. Sir Bowen notices Dhalric's wound.

Dhalric... are you all right?

(Keeran sprints through a dense forest, using a small sword to clear a path, rather than the larger blade strapped to his back.)

Almost there...

(He bursts through the last of the growth and lands on the beaten dirt road not too far from the stricken Dhalric and his companions. Alarmed, Keeran asks,)

What's happened here?

A small elven boy tumbles out of the forest on the opposite side of the road. He is dirty, with tattered clothes, but does not appear starving or unhappy. He speaks in Elvish-accented human speech.

Hullo sirs. Are you alright, master Ranger?

Keeran, did you find out about your attackers? But that can wait... a demon creature attacked Dhalric while Melissa and I were preparing to infiltrate the cult of the demon king... that's why we have these robes. Dhalric says we need a flask of something called Goldenrod essence to ward off any demons.

Yes, Melissa. That's an elf.

I don't think Goldenrod is a real priority right now, Bowen.

What happened to you, Dhalric? It looks like you're suffering a curse or some sort of mystic poison. We need to find the specific remedy for that...

turns to Elnip

I am Sir Bowen, a knight of errand. This is Melissa, my traveling companion. These are Keeran the Stranger and Dhalric Blacksilver. Who are you?

'o, me? I'm nobody of importance, knight sir. I'm just an orfan, used to live in the elven city by the Darkmeere swamp, don't y' know. The nice people took care of me after me parents died, but I decided to set off on me own and seek me fortune. I know all about these parts.

Well, you're not likely to get much fortune traveling with us, especially not of the good kind. We're on a dangerous mission.

Oh but allow me to come along, Knight sir. I can help y' on your quest!

Well, we do need plenty of help, but you don't understand what you're up against. Melissa and I are about to get into the meeting-place of the Cult of the Demon King, dressed as two of their members. We intend to recover an ancient and extremely powerful artefact called the Heart of Power, which has been stolen and must be returned to its resting place in the town of Hart's Hope. Are you still as anxious to come with us?

Sure! I'm brave, and I can take care of meself! Plus...there's one thing I didn't tell y'.

What's that?

Well, y'see, good things seem to happen when I'm around, don't y' know. I can't splain it very well...

You mean you have some sort of good luck?

Dhalric starts to stand up, gritting his teeth as he tries to hold back the pain.

W...would you mind if we...got moving and d...discussed this s....somewhere else?

He takes two steps, staggers for three more, then passes out.

Right, we need to find a cure for Dhalric, FAST. Does anyone have any idea what happened to him?

He fought with a large demonic creature... I've never seen anything like it before, and didn't recognise it. It stuck a sword into him. Someone should take him back to Silvercliff, or we could see if we've got anything which might heal him.

I don't think this is a natural ailment, it appears to be more of the magical type. And unless we know EXACTLY what it is, anything we do would do more harm than good. I do know of a spell, it would be risky for us, though.

Bowen, do you know where we could get some Sunstone?

Perhaps we can help.

The small coterie in unison turn their heads towards the sound of a voice, and gaze upon a sight familiar to most of them, that of a beautiful young woman astride a gigantic tiger.

Khistra!

he fills her in on the current situation

Maybe Bellepherus' healing drool would help, if only temporarily.

We shall see. He's never had to heal such as this, at least in all the time we've been together, nor do I have any Sunstone, so perhaps his saliva may offer a small measure of relief for Sir Dhalric.

If we can get him awake, perhaps we can find out exactly what is afflicting him. All we need is the name, we can do the rest.

Meanwhile, Elnip, who has curiously been examining the unconcious Dhalric, lets out a yip of surprise.

Excuse me sirs and ladies, but it looks like he's waking up!

S-some s-sort of creature with an obsidian blade. It plunged into my chest and...dissolved.

He passes out again.

(Keeran looks shocked, then sits crosslegged on the dirt road, pensively regarding the stricken Dhalric. Khistra, Bowen and the rest of the party stare warily at the brown-cloaked traveler.)

...Dakar's curse.

Bowen: "What was that?"

One of the worst afflictions there is. Someone wants Dhalric dead, and bad enough to consort with the darkest of forces. We need some Sunstone to stabilize him until we can find a cure, and we need it fast.

'scuse me sirs, are y' talking about stones? I collect stones, I have a lot of nice shiny ones!

Elnip digs into his pockets, and retrieves some shiny but uninteresting pebbles. However, a bright yellow, glowing rock tumbles from his partially torn pocket, and rolls over next to the unconscious Dhalric.

Oops. Ey, I don't member collecting that stone!

That's...SUNSTONE! Bowen, did you ever consider making this boy your squire?

(Elnip and Bowen both sputter in surprise a bit, but Keeran grins and snatches up the fragment of Sunstone. Holding the rock as if it were a precious jewel, he summons immense magical forces, which focus around Dhalric. Then he tosses the stone straight into the glowing nimbus around the stricken ranger, and a brilliant flash of light dazzles everyone's eyes for a moment. When they again can see, in place of Dhalric lies a small black cube, which Keeran picks up.)

Now, we can go about our search for a cure without worrying about Dhalric dying on us. But we need to hurry, this will only last for about a month, then he will return to his normal self...

I have a squire, Keeran.

Melissa looks alarmed

And her name is Melissa Dernhelm.

Melissa sighs in relief, as the knight puts his large hand on her shoulder.

Come, Melissa, to the Cult of the Demon King. Keeran, you and Khistra will have to search for the cure together.

he whispers to Keeran Appreciate it, Keeran. I doubt there's a man of your age group alive who wouldn't give everything he could for that.

(At Bowen's last remark, Keeran gets a very amused look on his face and replies)

Yes, I'd imagine so, Bowen. Khistra, are you willing to aid me in restoring our cubic friend to health?

Come, Melissa! We must run in haste, it is faster than the time spent haggling for a horse.

Bowen and Melissa, still dressed as followers of the Demon King, take to their heels and run to the north. Some time later, they arrive at a vast circle of trees. Although it is daytime, inside it appears very dark.

This looks like it must be the place. Now, how do we meet someone?

They walk around the circle for a short while, until they discover a sign hanging from the branch of one tree. It has the words The Cult of the Demon King. Enter at OWN RISK printed in red on a black background. A man dressed in a similar outfit to those currently worn by Bowen and Melissa sits in an ornately gnarled chair behind it.

(calling) I say, man!