Darkfist, nearing the end...

Azariaz, Son of Ar’tor stood before the host of his militia men, looking about them with grandfatherly eyes. His Dwarven stature changed slightly and he spoke. “Men, I send you out to the Havenswatch Wood, we have heard there lies a great treasure buried somewhere. It is also said that only the truest hero might find this treasure through finding the right clues. I then, send all of you out to the wood, to find this treasure. You may keep all the treasure you find, I only ask that you bring me back one item, legend says is buried with this treasure. The fabled Coin of Zeckard Hailstrike.









A warm wind whistled through the arid trees as the sun slowly lowered in the west. A few more hours of light, but Arick Darkfist knew his chances of seeing this last sun set were slim. Things were going according to his plans. He knew that many miles away another part of him would be pleased at such plans falling into place. He had laid all the foundations and now this one last obstacle stood in his way. His contact would have sent them here to find him. Surely this part of the woods would be deserted and the final stand could take place unhindered. He had picked this location due to its isolation and also it would be a prime spot for the ritual.

He knew his lover did not fully understand his reasons, but in time would see what greatness was in store for them both. Arick scanned the woods and almost turned to drink from the nearby stream when his ears picked up on a faint crackling noise. Leaves crushed under footsteps, he listened carefully as the footsteps came closer. Humanoid footsteps! What fool would be wandering out here? Surely he had ditched that fool Xeris by now. The Monk had followed his every move for months now, always shadowing him like a .. well a shadow! As Arick picked up his bow and lowered an arrow in the direction of the footsteps, he heard a second set of footsteps a good distance away and voices as well. He was sure he could silence the Monk with one quiet shot, but the second set of footsteps put him off guard. Arick rolled his eyes as he ducked down and instead threw his leopard skin furs on over his leather armor and wrapped it about himself with a dagger clutched underneath. Arick stealthily looked around the small cluster of trees and to his surprise saw one of the Havenswatch militia-men looking about on the ground as if he had lost something.

Arick had never seen the man before and stood slightly dumbfounded at this fool wandering about out here. The man suddenly realized Arick was standing there and looked up, dropping his sword to the ground. Arick’s grip tightened on the dagger but instead of placing it through the man’s jugular, decided it best to find why the man was here.

“What be you doing in this woods so far from the home”? Arick asked, fainting the ignorant barbarian.

The man stuttered a second, then after picking up his sword looked up at the large man covered in furs and said “I was, err we were sent here by his majesty Sir Azariaz Son of Ar’Tor… We are looking for a treasure here. Have you any clues to its location”?

Arick could have laughed if he felt simple emotions any longer. Arick looked up and saw off in the distance militia-men chasing a goblin through the clearing a 100 yards further back. He looked back to the young man before him and smiled.

“I don’t see none clues, buts I sees those men find one.” Arick pointed behind the man. As the man turned to look, Arick leapt with all his might and grabbed a branch over head, pulling himself upward he threw his legs atop a large sturdy branch and righted himself upright, gingerly stepping around behind the trunk of the tree. The militia-man turned back to find the road before him now empty and quickly looked about. Not finding anything he hurried on his way searching for more clues.

Arick looked around the tree and lept back to the forest floor, quickly moving he grabbed his gear from where he had hid it. It had to be today, it couldn’t wait any longer. Either it would be a valiant stand against Havenswatch’s finest fighting company, or it would be against the waves of militia men, but Arick Darkfists name would be heard in the history books.

Arick grabbed a vine and set it up and prepared to swing to the bottom of the cliff nearby. He hoisted himself and began to swing, as he did, he caught the sight in his peripherals of the damned monk, standing not ten feet away from where he had been. That blasted monk was getting too good, perhaps he would need to be dealt with before the Reaves…







Ten feet to the other side of Aricks small camp where he spoke to the militia-man another dark figure crouched, short bow aimed at where the last threat had been seen. Shadowy eyes watched the Monk step out from behind the tree, and look down the cliff. Quickly the monk began scaling down the cliffs by hand. The Dark figure stood and looked about, seeing nothing, it began walking down the path, taking a slightly longer train, but less noticeable. Even less noticeable was the large clawed paw prints that followed on the dark figures command.