A Small Quest

The small band of adventurers had set up camp at the edge of the forest. They had built a sturdy lean-to against the trees to shield them overnight. A small campfire warmed the Paladin and the Ranger as they sat around eating their meagre provisions. The Thief stood watch in a tree branch above them listening in on their conversation.

They had come across the great grassy plain and would soon be following a poorly marked path through the dense woods. There were better marked paths, but they were wary of them. Robbers had waylaid them once already and they couldn’t spare to lose any more of their provisions. “I warned you about the public ways. Lucky for you, I was able to steal back some of our stuff.”

“Hah! Steal back, my arse! You just returned what you had stolen from us to begin with.” The Ranger slapped the Paladin hard on his back. “Not that it didn’t do good for us in the end, eh, Paladin?”

The Paladin stood his sword on end and rose up off the fallen log that he sat upon. “The Thief did as he was told, Ranger. He held on to our most valuable possessions and made himself scarce when trouble showed.” The Paladin threw the last of the kindling onto the fire. “It’s late and in the morrow, we enter the woods. I suggest we get some sleep.”

The Mage sat off from the small band worrying a spell. He had been practicing it since they left the village, but it never quite came together. The Paladin wandered over to the young mage and watched as he made another attempt at his conjuring. “Ahem!” The Mage started and looked disconsolately at the Paladin. “Did you not hear me suggest that we bed down for the night?”

The Mage shook his head. “I almost had it on that last try.”

“Perhaps you will do better after a night of rest. It would help if you would eat something as well.”

“I’ll eat in the morning. I promise.”

In the early morning hours while the others slept, the Thief set out to find fresh food. He harvested edible berries from a nearby bush. He refilled the waterskins from a nearby stream. And he scouted the path ahead of them through the forest.

While the Mage, the Paladin, and the Ranger availed themselves of a breakfast of berries and flatbread, the Thief reported on his early morning scouting. “The path ahead is passable until you encounter a patch of bramble. There are a few berry bushes along the way and evidence of small game. I saw no evidence of recent travel on the footpath. We should clear the woods by nightfall I should think.”

The small band marched single-file along the woodland path, hacking their way through the briars and dense underbrush. They stopped briefly to rest and finish off the berries. As promised by the Thief, they arrived at the other side just before nightfall. While the others were busy preparing the camp for the evening, the Thief surveyed the slope down to the small village.

The Thief then flew on toward the monastery on the hill where the small band of adventurers would meet with the Cleric. She would not accompany the travelers into the village as many humans considered ravens to be ill omens. She settled in her roost in the monastery content that she had brought the Cleric the help that he sought for the task that lay ahead.