Nine Years Before Present Day.

"And... well, that's about it. Not much to tell, really. I'm just glad ya both come along when you did. It could've ended pretty bad... hnh. Sure glad Gorion didn't see all that. So much for training..." Imoen sighed loudly to both herself and the odd pair who sat opposite her next to the campfire she had built. The halfling scowled as he tightened the short sword he carried at his side, leaning in towards the small flames and gesturing towards the visibly shaken girl.

"You shouldn't be walking about alone out here, not when yer naught more than food for a few wolves. To think what could've happened had we not seen yer plight." he leaned back once, still shaking his head in disapproval. Imoen looked at the somewhat unpleasant halfling... Montaron, that was what the human had called him. He had a rather harsh voice and unlike many of the halfling race, his face was not pleasant or inviting, more so affixed with a permanent scowl, accompanied by a mop of dirty and unwashed brown hair. His hands and leather armor were gritty and obviously well used- several throwing weapons were at his side, including daggers, darts, and even a few that glowed green in the night. She may not have been experienced, but she knew a poison enchantment when she saw it. He was not to be mistaken for anything other than dangerous... and with the faint aura of evil clinging to him, Imoen found herself vaguely uncomfortable in his presence.

"Monty, you should be more cordial to our new friend." Xzar tsked, reaching over to place on hand on Imoen's shoulder in sympathy. "She’s had quite a night. Still, my little halfling friend here has a point. Few survive in the wilderness alone, especially ones as innocent and inexperienced as yourself. Perhaps you would like us to travel with you for a time? Surely we all could use the company."

Imoen was vaguely surprised at the sudden offer- she hadn't known the pair before her more than an hour at most, and they already offered her companions to travel with. There was something about them that bothered her... Montaron's aura of unpleasantness was easy to discern, but Xzar was... different. He seemed nice enough... but there were those flashes of oddness that crept in every now and then. Talking about rabbits and the like. Quite frankly, if Imoen didn't know better(and he hadn't just saved her life), she would've been freaked out by the mage.

But as it stood, she owed them her life. That wasn't something she took lightly- Gorion had taught her better than that. She managed a smile, still a little shaken from the ordeal, then nodded, taking Xzar's hand and shaking it vigorously. "Well if ya don't mind me tagging along for a while, I'd be happy to have some company. Pleased to meetcha both!"

Xzar laughed at the sudden burst of cheer from Imoen, returning the handshake. "Excellent!" his voice went up an octave as he said it- Imoen tried not to laugh as he cleared his throat and continued as if nothing had happened. "We'll move again once dawn has risen. Do you have a destination right now, my dear?"

Imoen thought hard... now that he mentioned it, she really didn't. She supposed following the road would eventually lead her to the next town- maybe where she might find a use for her thieving skills- but nothing concrete. So she shook her head no, slightly intrigued at the prospect of having a real goal and path in this new and unfamiliar life. "Not really. Where were you two headed?"

"We be visiting the town of Nashkel, lass." Montaron voiced, frowning as he chewed on one of the pieces of jerky Imoen had been in the midst of preparing when the wolves had attacked. "Pfeh. We might have to teach you a thing or two about cooking on the road, too. This be terrible."

"Nashkel... quite a nice town." Xzar continued smoothly, even as Montaron spat out the rest of the food he had been munching on. "We have business there; our employers wish us to do a little... investigating."

"Hmm... sounds important." Imoen mentioned offhandedly. "Who do you two work for?"

"Why? Is there something you want to tell us, girlie?" Montaron snarled abruptly, one hand going to the dagger at his side.

Imoen jumped at the sight, doing her best not to fall off the fireside log she was sitting on. "No! I just... well, I mean I don't know either of you at all, you don't know me...just trying to- um..."

Xzar sighed in despondence, shaking his head as he glared at Montaron, the thief slowly putting away his weapon. "No need for that, Monty. She's quite the charmer, don't you think? Nothing to fear from her."

"Maybe, but it's a sure thing and a half that we've come too close to disaster because of folks like her. All innocent until they slide a knife between your ribs." Montaron shook his head, turning to look at Imoen with a gruff snort. "I'll give you some free advice, Imoen. Three things you keep in mind on the road and you won't get yourself killed, which means you won't get us killed. Listening?"

"Er... yes, of course." Imoen nodded, even as Montaron grunted, leaning forward to prod the fire before it went out. He withdrew a small pipe from his jacket and filled it with a pouch of pipeweed, then brought it close enough to the fire to light. He took a long puff, then spoke.

"First- never depend on anyone but yerself. You think other folks be watching your back? That's when you'll get stabbed in it. Jus' because you travel with someone don't mean they're going to watch out for you."

"What about you and Xzar?" Imoen asked nervously, glancing at the mage... who was currently muttering something softly to himself, meeting neither of their gazes. Montaron turned away from his partner, swore quietly, then shook his head. "Nothing doing, lass- we're here together because the folks we work for put us this way. He blasts and burns with those magics of his, I stab our enemies in the back when they ain't looking. It be a necessary partnership, and that be all."

"Monty! I'm positively hurt." Xzar said, looking slightly miffed, before returning to whatever muttering he had been doing before.

Montaron's hand went to his short sword, but he took a deep breath and tore his attention from the mage and looked back at Imoen, meeting her eyes with his own. "That be rule number one, girl. Rule number two: ye never do anything for free and don't be expecting nothing for free. You hear stories tell of those tin head knights and paladins with their honor and all that crock? Bunch of bull, that's wot it is. Honor never fed anyone's belly nor bought them new blades and spells."

"But... what about-" Imoen struggled to find the words. The advice Montaron was giving her seemed so... foreign. Out of place. Unlike anything she'd thought or practiced before- nothing like what Gorion had taught her.

"What about what? Did I stutter, Imoen?" Montaron scowled, watching as Imoen bit her lip, trying to find the right expression of protest.

"I believe our little friend is of the inclination that helping people is its own reward, is that right?" Xzar piped in, Imoen's eyes brightening as she turned to the mage in gratitude. "Is that what you were attempting to say, my dear?"

"Well, yeah! Something like that." Imoen shrugged. "I mean, I know ya can't just go around helping people all the time... you gotta think of yourself too, eventually."

"Precisely!" Xzar jumped in again, cutting Imoen off. "You see, what Montaron is saying is not so much that you shouldn't help people... remember what he said about never expecting anything for free? Whenever you aid someone, remember that they must aid you as well, whether by gold or goods or service. It's simply how the world works. Why, Montaron and I have helped many people through our time together. You, for example... and in return you are accompanying us to Nashkel. In return for saving your life, we gain your help in our journeys. That's not so wrong, is it?"

"Well… when you put it that way, it does make sense." Imoen admitted slowly. "I guess I see your point."

"Fine fine, whatever it takes to get through that pink haired skull of yours. Now listen up, because I'm not done teaching you, girl." Montaron complained, drawing Imoen's attention again. "Third rule, and most important. Mercy? Don't even think about it. The moment you start feeling sorry for your enemies, feel like showing them some kind of mercy in battle or once they're down, that's when you find yourself bleeding to death on the ground. If you see your enemy on the ground, you keep slicing until he ain't breathing any more. Got it?"

Imoen listened, thinking quietly to herself... she spoke up, "Are you sure? There's gotta be some times when it's better to let people go. It could build your reputation or something-"

"Dead men make just as good a statement as frightened live ones." Montaron shook his head. "Got any more ideas I need to rid your head of?"

Imoen gritted her teeth, Montaron's attitude beginning to wear on her. She may not have been as experienced or worldly as this pair, but she sure wasn't going to simply sit there and take this kind of abuse from a pint-sized runt like the halfling before her. At least Xzar seemed to have some sense of propriety about him, even if he was a bit off. "Ok then Mr. Know-it-all, what if he offers some kind of reward for letting him go? Huh? Just going to let all that gold he's offering go to someone else?"

Montaron stopped for a moment, obviously taken by surprise by the sudden challenge- he hadn't expected her to even speak up to him again. It took him a moment to respond- he laughed heartily, nodding his head. "There ye go, girl! Now yer thinking proper like! Like I said, ye don't do nothing for free- like letting some fool live. Depends on the offer, but if it be too large to refuse, yer simply performing a service for the man. Letting him live in exchange for what he's got to offer. Right and proper way to help people, just like ye say!"

"Right..." Imoen said cautiously, Xzar bursting out in laughter along with Montaron, even as she added, "And I suppose that once you've got what he offered, you'd just go ahead and kill him."

"Harhar!" Montaron grabbed his sides, shaking his head in mirth. "I think I like this here lass, Xzar! She's not so daft after all. Give her a few months with us, she'll be a right fine 'adventurer', eh?"

"Most assuredly, Monty." Xzar chuckled. "Excuse his turns of humor- he does have his moments... but he likes you. I can tell. We've done quite a bit tonight- perhaps we should be getting to bed. We shall see you come the morn, my dear."

"All right." Imoen said, trying to suppress a smile as she stood and walked to her own cot and bedding. She was more than happy to have company at her side- being alone on the road was an undoubtedly scary prospect. Not to say these two would have been her first choice; they were a little rough around the edges, but in the end... how bad could they be?

X X X X X X X

Imoen tried to hide the fact that she was out of breath as she followed behind Montaron and Xzar, the two of them leading as they climbed one of the many hills on the road towards the town of Nashkel. Granted, they could have simply stayed on the road but the well-trodden paths were dangerous these days; the iron crisis making any weapons like the ones that Montaron used fragile and unreliable. Added to that were the bandits that constantly plagued travelers- even with her newfound company, Imoen was glad to avoid the more dangerous parts of the road to Nashkel. They were planning a quick stop in Beregost before they continued onward, just to restock their supplies and purchase new daggers for Montaron- the ones he had were already showing signs of the taint that plagued all the iron in the area.

To that end, they'd veered back towards the main road- they were almost there, but from where they were at it required them to cross some rather hilly terrain. To tell the truth, Imoen was not quite ready for the amount of hiking and travel they had done the past few days, especially in this type of country. The two she traveled with seemed accustomed to their pace, but it was hardly easy or usual for the young girl. That first day of travel she had undergone alone had been easy going, on the road and at a pace all her own. She breathed a sigh of relief as she saw Xzar stop at the top of the hill she was currently climbing- she sucked in air greedily as she stopped, ready to plop down and take a breather-

"Girl! Get up here and take a look at this!"

Montaron's demanding cry- hushed, strangely- pulled her back up though not without reluctance. She trudged the rest of the way up to the top, scowling at the halfling as she finally got to their position. "All right, all right... I'm up here. What was so important that-"

She stopped in midsentence as she gazed down at a caravan of large covered wagons, drawn by horses and guarded by several armed men, some carrying bows, all with swords at their side. Some of them looked wounded, and there were several bloodstains on the covers of the wagons as well as the men themselves. They were well within walking distance, although they'd have to change their angle to intersect them before they reached the treeline that led into the straightest route towards Nashkel.

"What's going on?" Imoen whispered, crouching down alongside the prone Xzar and seated Montaron. "What do you think happened?"

"Looks like a convoy... iron by the style of it." Montaron chuckled. "Probably heading back to restock when they got hit by bandits. Looks like they put up a fight... might've even fought the brigands off! Course, you know what that means, eh wizard?"

"I do indeed, Monty." Xzar grinned, his smile a little too malevolent for Imoen's tastes. Either he noticed Imoen's sudden look of hesitation, or he simply felt like explaining himself. Regardless, his face suddenly grew kindly again as he turned to Imoen. "Is there something bothering you, Imoen?"

"No... just wondering what you two are talking about." she said, trying to cover her discomfort with a sheepish smile. "Not too much to ask, is it?"

"Of course not, child." Xzar shook his head wildly, far more than was necessary to convey the desired expression. He finally stopped, his own locks of hair swinging to a halt in front of his eyes. He brushed them out of his hair with a wild frenzy of motion, then grinned at Imoen. "You see, iron convoys are so tainted that few bandits bother to strike them- and the mines scarcely bother to guard them with more than one or two swords. For there to be such protection on this particular envoy..."

"It's not iron." Imoen finished, nodding in understanding. Xzar veritably beamed with pride as he nodded, looking at Montaron. "Quite good, isn't she, Monty?"

"Heh." Montaron chuckled, checking the edge on of his daggers as he glanced back down at the slow-moving train of wagons. "Watch yourself girl- Xzar sounds like he might be getting sweet on ya. Didn't end too well fer the last girl he tried a' courtin. Turned her into a rabbit, if me memory serves me well. Made a fine stew."

Imoen recoiled in disgust, but Xzar simply continued as if nothing had been said. "Now Imoen, you've been doing so well. Can you figure out what, if not iron, this particular treasure trove is carting?"

"We've not the time for this kind of guessing game." Montaron growled, pushing himself to his feet as he gazed downhill. "Covered wagons, moving so slowly, this many guards... it ain't legal. Slaves, I'd guess."

"Slaves?" Imoen asked in surprise. "That's horrible!"

"Sure is." Montaron spat. "Unbathed, filthy folk. Catch a fine price at the market though... if the bandits did nae' kill them in their attack. What say ye, Xzar?"

The wizard studied the convoy for a moment longer, then shook his head in sorrow. "Too many, Monty. Far too many for us to kill. Not even with dear Imoen could we manage to dispatch them."

"But we can't just let them go like this!" Imoen cried out, looking at both of her companions in earnest. "There's got to be something we can do to save them."

"Open yer eyes, girl..." Montaron growled harshly. "There still be a dozen men, easily. We cannot kill them all-"

"But we could fool them!' Imoen said excitedly. "If they've fought bandits already, we might be able to trick them into thinking we're bandits too! We could ambush them, get them to surrender... trade them their lives for the slaves! We wouldn't have to kill them all, but we could just fool them into giving them up without a fight!" her words came flooding out, her head full of ideas and excitement, the prospect of pulling something like this off was going to her head and giving her new courage, doing some good in the world like Gorion had told her-

"You know, yer fool head ain't just for looking pretty." Montaron said slowly, slyly. "I think she may have something, wizard."

"Hmm... indeed." Xzar chuckled. "I shall depart into the wood- mayhap I shall find some rabbits while I wait!"

He laughed hysterically, scurrying down the hillside, out of sight from the convoy, into the outskirts of the forest they were heading towards. Montaron watched as Xzar disappeared into the treeline, and then looked up at Imoen, seriousness on his face. "Now listen here, girl. You keep your mouth shut and let me do the speaking. Yer a smart lass, but ye've got no scare in you. They won't take ye seriously- just ye keep yer bow up and trained on one o' their heads. Got it?"

Imoen swallowed, drawing an arrow slowly from her quiver, putting it to her bow. Montaron nodded in approval, narrowing his eyes, then noted how closely they were to the treeline where Xzar was waiting. He grinned, then nudged Imoen. "Lass- can ye hit the ground in front o' their front steed?"

"I... I think so." Imoen managed, only for Montaron to growl and grab her by the scruff of the collar.

"Don't be giving none of this 'think so'! Either ye can or ye can't! What is it?!"

Imoen felt her ire rise again at the manhandling by this ruffian halfling- she pushed him off, leaning close with gritted teeth. "I can."

He studied her face for a moment, then nodded in satisfaction. "That be more like it, girl. Go ahead and stop 'em in their tracks."

She raised her bow high, squinting as the sun glared, blinding her slightly as she tried to figure out the perfect arc to land the shot she was seeking... she closed her left eye, inhaled deeply, let it out halfway... she released the arrow, watching it with excitement and satisfaction as it sailed perfectly along the line she had drawn in her mind. It struck the ground before the lead horse, sending it into a buck, the guard beside it lurching back in surprise, immediately going for his blade as Montaron began descending the hill with Imoen, the halfling calling out to the men. "Aye! Ye convoy... hold fast! We’ve got a bit of proposition for ye to hear."

One of the men stepped out of the covers of the middle wagon- he wore an eye patch and was covered in scars and rough hide armor. A fresh wound looked like it had been gouged in his side, judging from the way he carried himself- Imoen found her mouth dry as they got closer and she could see all the guards crowding to meet them as their convoy ground to a halt. "What do you want?! We won't tolerate any further delays- state your business or we'll strike you down where ye stand!"

"Brave words comin from what looks like its been through hell and back already!" Montaron laughed, gesturing to the bloodied and battered wagons. "Ye've got some mighty precious cargo yer carrying... and I wager it isn't iron. Might I see the merchandise, slavemaster? Or shall me and me bandit lass be forced to kill ye for it?"

The man with the eyepatch flared his nostrils, and he gestured toward one of the guards with him. The man raised his bow- Imoen raised hers in return and for a moment it looked to the frightened young thief that her career in adventuring was going to end in a fiery hail of arrow. Montaron raised one hand, speaking quickly. "Ye might slay the two of us, but I wager my girl here can put an arrow through three of you before ye nail her. She's a nimble one. And that's not counting what's in that forest behind ye."

The slavemaster frowned, slowly turning to look- several dozen flames lit in the darkness of the forest- each one presumably a torch held by a horde of bandits, all waiting for their orders to kill. Their leader swore loudly, then walked over to Montaron, towering over him yet containing his rage perfectly. "Name your price, bandit. We're nae able to fight off you and your kin twice today, as you well know. Be quick about it before the Flaming Fist catches sight of our convoy and decides to 'help'."

Montaron smiled toothily, then held out his hand. "Only all the gold ye be carrying in your carts. Hand it on over and ye'll be on your way soon enough with those slaves of yours."

Imoen's eyes flashed in surprise as the slavemaster growled in impotent fury, he barked an order to two of his men, the guards slowly and reluctantly leaving their positions to fetch what Montaron had asked for. Even as they went to fetch the price Montaron had demanded, Imoen leaned down towards the halfling and whispered, "What about the slaves?"

"What about them?!" Montaron hissed back, his voice harsh but quiet enough to keep the slavemaster in the dark; fortunately, he had turned his back to them and did not see their exchange. "We cannot kill them all, and they'll naught part with their commodity. Aside, what brigand steals slaves and not gold? They'd know we were lying then, fool! Just shut up and stay quiet or I'll silence ye myself!"

Imoen wanted to protest further, wanted to say something, anything to stop the bandits, to convince Montaron or Xzar that they could still help the slaves- but there was nothing. She had no more ideas- it was all too late, now. The bags of gold were tossed at her feet as the slavemaster and Montaron exchanged a few last taunts and threats. She barely even noticed as the convoy started moving again- it would not be long before they were past and it was safe for Xzar to emerge, his role in their deception complete.

Montaron picked up the gold bags, weighing them in his hand with a sigh of contentment. He looked up at Imoen, the girl still watching the convoy disappear into the wood. He scowled and nudged her, shaking his head. "What be yer problem? Did you really think we could rescue them? I told ye, honor and goodness will never smith a sword. Saving them piles of rubbish would've netted us no profit, no gold to line our pockets or food to fill our stomachs. This, right here, is what we got, and it's something you can be damn glad we're sharing with you. Almost got us killed with your whispering and jawing..."

"Ah! T'would seem we're victorious, yes? Let me see our spoils, Monty." Xzar came bounding out of the wood, glee on his face as the halfling tossed him a bag.

Montaron laughed as Xzar opened the drawstring, running his hand through the contents inside. "Not too bad, wizard. Knew those fire startin' spells o' yours would come in handy for more than cooking rabbits and keeping the camp lit at night."

"Indeed... and for cooking the overly meddlesome." Xzar noted, glancing at Imoen, whose gaze was on the ground between her feet. "Are you all right, my dear? Not injured, I should hope?"

"No... no, I'm fine." Imoen said quietly... in truth, her mind was far away from the gold, the honor, or even Montaron and Xzar. It was on the sight she had seen as the convoy drove past them, on the caged elf she had witnessed inside one of the wagons, its cover half torn away. The blonde haired elf ensnared and imprisoned inside had caught her eye. She bore wings on her back, but they were no longer white and perfect but slowly growing gray and diseased from lack of use, fluttering slightly as she looked at Imoen in despair, a cry for help- "Aye! Do ye want your share or not, girl!"

Montaron's voice brought Imoen back to the future. Evidently, Xzar had seen right through her lie- he took her hand and placed a sack of gold in it. "There's nothing you could have done for them, my dear. Nothing at all."

Imoen looked down at the money, then back at Xzar. She finally nodded, shaking away the thoughts of the captive Avariel and how she had come so close to helping her... only to fail at the last second. "N-no. Of course not."