Long into the late hours of the night, four figures sat around a campfire telling stories. A bald gentle giant named Bocke, Tacen lying sideways with a piece of straw in his mouth, a gruff old sailor named Kimboxan swigging back on a bottle, and his young daughter named Veshina. Misty weather was descending, which made them huddle by the fire, their tents not likely to offer a comfortable rest tonight.

Despite the descending mist, their spirits were as high as ever, this small forest hilltop was their kingdom tonight. A place to be free and to live the riches life offered. Tacen jumped up and walked around the fire telling an animated story, hands flying this way and that. It got a few chuckles and just as many heckles. The drink was flowing, and their regrets or hardships seemed less.

Their old sailor played an ocean melody on his strange flute, the girl looked sleepy and curled up by the bald giant’s side. Tacen found his balance, one too many drinks tonight. Good old farmers ale, a strong taste and cheap as dirt. He looked over the others happy at rest, it was a family as much as any other.

But like any family, they had their problems.

Three figures came upon their happy camp, swords drawn…

“Cylis wants a word.”

Tacen’s attention sobered and he nodded, collecting what little money they had after paying the merchants for their materials, and the farmers for their supplies. “He’s going alone.” The largest of the three grunted. Tacen held his hand up when the others began to stand. “Keep the fire warm.”

”Dun suppos’ were goin’ to a party?” He said lifting a drink up.

WHACK.

A truncheon bruise forming across his leg, then being shoved forward answered that one. Probably the first of many happy memories to move him along tonight.