A lone stout figure shuffled along the muddy road towards the hazy red of the setting sun. Cold wind grabbed at his cloak permitting the light drizzling rain to enter its lukewarm confines. He grasped the flapping ends and secured them with renewed determination to keep out the early chill of winter. The straps of a small backpack and the warhammer slung over his shoulder aided his efforts. The wind tugged with the ebon braids of his beard sneaking them out of the cover of his cloak so they could play in the rain.

“We are almost to Fallcrest?” He asked no one. “Good. Been a long walk from the Fiveleague House and you know I’m not in the best shape.” A sudden gust overcame the figure’s grip and pulled off his hood revealing a bare pate to the rain. He grumbled and tugged the errant hood back over his head. “And this weather has become annoying. I miss the comfort of my shop in Hammerfast. My former shop.” He paused to adjust his grip to combat the efforts of the wind. “You know very well you’re the reason I left.”

The figure trudged on through the muck towards his destination. Rolling hills and copses of trees passed by and gave way to small farmsteads, some in use, some in ruin, indicating the increasing presence of civilization. After many twists and turns through the hills a bend around one such hill revealed the figure’s destination at last, Fallcrest.

The traveler pushed his slumping shoulders back as he approached the gate. The twenty foot walls flanking the gatehouse stretched for several hundred feet before falling off a bluff to the south and climbing a hill to the north that was topped by a small keep.

“Halt! State your name and business,” a gruff voice called out from the shadows of the gatehouse.

The figure stopped and peered into the shadows. His vision able to see clearly through the darkness. A dwarf clad in scale armor was between two human guards wielding halberds. The figure replied, “My name is Thordek from Hammerfast. Locksmith by trade. I am passing through and need lodging for the night.”

“You alone?” the dwarf asked.

Thordek paused, whispering a hush to no one in particular. “Yes,” he replied.

“Very well then, move along. ” The guards made way for Thordek to pass through the gatehouse into the town.

“It has been a while since I’ve been here. Can you tell me where I can find lodging?”

“Silver Unicorn by the Knight’s Gate, but by the looks of things you might not be able to afford them. Try the Nentir Inn across the river,” one of the guards said.

“Thank you. Good to see a fellow dwarf outside of Hammerfast,” Thordek replied and began walking. “What? You want to stay at the Prancing Pony?”

“Excuse me?” the dwarf guard asked.

Thordek turned. “Oh sorry, just talking to myself.”

“Hmmph. I thought you asked about the Prancing Pony. That place burned down before the Bloodspear War before y’er even born kid,” the dwarf replied.

Thordek thanked the guards and left. Following the guard’s directions, he turned right when he reached a temple topped by white minarets. The building sat on the edge of a large bluff that divided Fallcrest. Other than several large warehouses along the riverfront, most of the buildings in the lower city were ruined. A small stream on Thordek’s left flowed into the town from the east and careened down the bluff in a waterfall filling a small pond below before meeting up with the Nentir River on the western side of town. Further south of the stream in the lower portion of the town was a steep hill with a pale green spire perched atop it. The only access to the tower was via a bridge from the upper section of the town.

Thordek turned his attention back to the temple and his trek through the town. He recognized several symbols of Sehanine, the goddess of the moon and autumn. And trickery and illusions, Thordek thought.

“Yes I know I am being followed,” he said to himself. “It’s just a little girl.” He continued walking.

“Fine! I’ll ask her,” he said turning around and seeing the girl duck behind a building. The sun was set, but there were enough lights to permit Thorde’s dwarven vision to see the girl peering around the corner in the shadows. “Come on out little girl and tell me why you’re following me.”

After a few moments, the girl slowly left her hiding place and approached Thordek. Taller than the dwarf by several inches, the waif was dressed in rags, although the drizzling rain had washed away some of the grime from her body. He could see the glint of her red hair and the abundant freckles on her face in the dim light. Thordek asked again who she was and why she was following him.

“I’m sorry sir. I saw you talking to some invisible person and thought you might be able to help a poor orphan,” she said.

“Rob me is more like it!” Thordek replied.

“No! Never! I’m not like those other kids.”

“What’s your name?”

“Alanna.”

The dwarf listened for a moment. “Fine. But if we get into trouble because of her, it’s your fault.”

“What?” Alanna asked.

“Nevermind girl. Come on.” Thordek headed back towards the river and the Nentir Inn, glancing over his shoulder to ensure the girl was following. The two soon crossed over the only bridge over the Nentir River in the entire valley. A wooden structure set on old stone arched pilings. Thordek figured they have been around for a few centuries, but the wood was no more than a few decades old. The Nentir Inn lay just beyond the bridge. Thordek opened the door for Alanna and escorted her inside.

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The heroes of Nentir Vale is my feeble attempt at fiction using some of the more off the wall D&D characters I have created lately. Since I don’t get the opportunity to play D&D much, I figured this would be one way to do so. Anyway, hopefully somebody out there gets a little enjoyment from these tales, but if not, at least I will.