When Plageiorath awoke, it was midday as far as he could have guessed from the bright streams of light that came from in between the leaves above. Once he rolled over, he could see that dirt had been kicked over the fire, but only just recently because small streams of smoke still lolled softly in the air. Morgue was nowhere to be seen and Plageiorath panicked for a second, assuming that dryads or some other woodland creature might have captured the kindly stranger. The humans had certainly caused enough chaos for them to be angered, but if that were the case they would have certainly taken Plageiorath too. So Plageiorath calmed himself, got on his feet, and began to search for his new friend.

He found Morgue sitting on a fallen tree staring at the middle of a small section of the forest where no plants dared to grow and the soil appeared to have been charred by a large and hot fire. There was some strange pale green fungus growing along the moss on the fallen tree that Morgue was sitting upon. When Plageiorath approached Morgue, he sat on the tree beside him and said, “I was wondering where you were.” Morgue just motioned for him to be silent and pointed at the treeline that was on the opposite side of the clearing from their log. Plageiorath had to strain his eyes for a second before he realized why Morgue was so intent on them being silent.

A colony of dryads and fairies were dancing and frolicking in the forest around them, dressed in masterfully created greenish purple and yellow-orange dresses. They weaved in between the trees with the accuracy of an orcish archer but as gracefully as deer, clearly accustomed to the rough terrain of the forest. Some of the fairies flew through the branches of the treetops with awefull speed and precision, their auburn hair and orange dresses caught the light so that they appeared as swathes of flames dancing along the tops of the trees. Their iridescent wings fractured the sunlight into all of the different colors of the rainbow, like crystal does when set in sunlight. The beauty of these locals of the forest took Plageiorath’s breath away, and he couldn’t help but wonder how so many people were afraid of these playful creatures launching an attack on them.

Once the forest dwellers had left and Plageiorath could finally peel his eyes away from them, Morgue said, “I remember the first time I saw fairies. I must have had that exact same look on my face.”

“Why are people so afraid of them?” Plageiorath asked, “They seem pretty peaceful to me.”

“Well, they are,” Morgue began, “just as long as you don’t mess with them. If you’re in a place where you need to meet with them though, you should be alright as long as you respect the forest and try not to threaten them in any way.” Morgue then looked down, pointed at the pale green fungus and said, “I’d harvest a couple of those mushrooms if I were you. They work wonders at curing diseases and stimulating healing. Just make sure you don’t cook them, since that makes them deadly to humans. Cooking does boost their healing effects on fairies and dryads, though. That’s why they use them.”

“I thought you just said to respect the forest,” Plageiorath said, “doesn’t that mean to not kill its inhabitants?”

“No, boy,” Morgue explained, “you can still respect the forest when harvesting ingredients and hunting animals. Just make sure you don’t take too many plants and use every part of the animals you kill.”

“Oh,” Plageiorath said before using his obsidian blade to harvest three of the small mushroom clusters.

“Where did you ever get a blade like that?” Morgue asked.

“It used to be my friend’s,” Plageiorath answered, “he gave it to me shortly before he died.”

“Oh,” Morgue said, “I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s okay, really,” Plageiorath said, “he died an honorable death while saving our city from a tribe of bandits.”

“Well,” Morgue said, “where are you going kid? I think I might go with you. A youngling like yourself might need some help dealing with hardened criminals.”

“I’m going to Dregwood first,” Plageiorath replied, “to collect a bounty from a somewhat skilled thief.”

“That’s not too far from here,” Morgue said, “but we might want to get going if we’re to reach town before dusk.” Since neither Plageiorath nor Morgue had left any of their supplies, they decided it was best to head straight towards civilization rather than return to their campsite. They traveled through the trees, Morgue just slightly less graceful than the forest natives, with Plageiorath stumbling behind like a blind ox being led by a toddler. Plageiorath would normally be afraid to set even a single toe off of the main roads, but seeing as he was with this trained woodsman, he wasn’t the least bit scared anymore. Besides, the forest was rather peaceful and serene, and the song of the birds gave the forest a calm, welcoming feel.

Before he knew it, Plageiorath was out of the woods and at the walls of a small city. The tiny wooden sign outside the gates had words scrawled across it in charcoal that read: Welcome to Dregwood. The guard posted out front of the gates asked the two adventurers why they had come to the city. “To retrieve a bounty on Sanj Harbillier, sir,” Plageiorath answered.

“Oh, the sneakthief,” the guard said, “What’d he do this time, take a sweetroll out of someone’s mouth?”

“Just the usual for a thief,” Plageiorath replied, “some light breaking and entering and a little bit of larceny.” The guard then moved to open the gate and allowed the two travelers inside.

As the two travelers moved towards the city gates the guard said, “I believe we picked up the guy you’re looking for a couple of days ago. I’m not sure, but if you’re looking for Sanj, I’d definitely check the dungeon first.” Plageiorath thanked the man for his information and walked through the open gates, Morgue trailing closely behind. Compared to Florhaust, Dregwood was rather depressing to look at. It was a meager little logging town that seemed to be rather poor, as everything was dingy and the houses were quite small and crowded upon the muddy streets.

Not only were most of the houses small, a few were so rotten that you could push through the boards with little effort, and more still were covered in soot from the many fires that erupted through the town’s years. The conditions were so horrible that Plageiorath shivered at the thought of what the dungeon may look like. Plageiorath breathed in and immediately got choked out by a repulsive mixture of odors. “What…(cough)...is..(vomit)...that?” Plageiorath asked, wiping the bile off of his mouth with his shirt sleeve.

Morgue took a deep breath and replied, “Sulfur and sewage. The sulfur from earlier fires, and the sewage from the streets. See that mud? It’s not mud.” At this Plageiorath gagged, trying hard to keep down the remainder of his stomach’s contents. They slowly trudged their way through the city streets to the guards’ barracks, which was noticeably larger than the other buildings in the town. When told why they had come, a guard allowed them into the dungeon underneath the barracks and led them to Sanj’s cell.

“Ye best hold on to yer’ possessions. These scum ‘ill try ta take anything they can,” said the guard, before putting his torch in the center of the room and heading back up to his post. Plageiorath looked around the room, and was surprised to find that the dungeon was much nicer than the town itself.

When he pointed this out to Morgue, Morgue said, “The dungeons are payed for by the emperor’s treasury. They have to keep them nice or else it’s harder to keep diplomatic relations with other kingdoms and empires.”

“Why don’t they have to keep the city clean as well then?” Plageiorath asked.

“Because they explain it away as if it’s the citizens’ choice to live in filth. The prisoners don’t have a choice but the free people do.”

“That doesn’t seem very fair. What if they don’t want to?”

“Fair doesn’t matter,” Morgue answered, “What matters to the emperor is his own appearance to others.”

“Well, we better find this Sanj guy quickly. I might be able to get to talk to the emperor and change his views once all the bounties are collected,” Plageiorath said. 

“I might know the guy you’re looking for!” one of the prisoners exclaimed to the travelers. He was just a couple of years older than Plageiorath, with light brown hair, gray eyes, and no beard coming in.

“Then where is he?” Plageiorath asked, approaching the cell.

“That’s for me to know,” the prisoner said, “and for you to pay my bail to find out.”

“Not likely,” Plageiorath said.

“He’s probably lying anyways,” Morgue added, nodding his head in agreement with Plageiorath’s statement.

“Come on,” the prisoner said, “I just want out of here.”

As they walked away the prisoner stated desperately, “Alright! I’m Sanj. I’m the guy you’re looking for. Just don’t leave me in here!” At this, our two adventurers walked back over to the cell.

“You have a fifteen gold bounty on your head,” Plageiorath said, “Pay up or we walk out.”

“Do I look like I have that kind of money!” Sanj exclaimed, “Look I’ve got this score that I buried just over on the West side of the river. If you get me out-” Sanj was cut short by Morgue bending the cell’s bars outwards from each other, reaching in, and grabbing him by the throat.

“Listen here,” Morgue said angrily, “We aren’t treasure hunters, and we certainly aren’t thieves. Either give us something to pay the bounty right now, or I swear to the gods that I will rip your head off!”

“Okay! Okay,” Sanj said, his hands raised and eyes full of fear, “When I was put in here they took an amulet from me. My mother gave it to me when I was ten years of age. It’s a ruby inlaid in silver. It’s not much but it has to be worth something, right?” To this, Morgue let go and walked up the staircase and back into the guard barracks. Plageiorath was too stunned to follow him. Sanj clambered out of the cell through the hole that Morgue had left, and fell flat on his face on the other side. Plageiorath helped him to get back on his feet.

“I’m so sorry,” Plageiorath said, “I had no idea that Morgue was-”

“It’s okay,” Sanj said, trying to collect what was left of his pride, “He actually treated me better than most of the guards I’ve encountered in my life. So, is your buddy always so intense?”

“I’m not really sure,” Plageiorath answered, “I actually just met him yesterday-” He was interrupted by a large, continuous racket above them.

“What’s that?” Sanj asked, “It sounds almost like-”

“A battle!” they exclaimed at the same time, racing towards the stairs recklessly. They reached the top just in time to see Morgue commit the final bloody act of the chaos. Morgue had a sword through a guard and pulled it outwards and up, sending a spray of blood all over the boys.

He then turned towards them and said calmly, “Sorry about that younglings. I didn’t see you standing there.” Blood covered the walls and floor of the room, and nearly coated the ceiling as well. The floor was so thickly littered with body parts that nearly every square inch had flesh lying in it. Fingers were scattered all across the room and for some reason, as if by magic, an arm was hanging from the ceiling. Morgue leaned down, pulled something off of the newest corpse, and presented a jewel in front of Sanj.

“Is this the amulet you were talking about?” Morgue asked.

“It appears so,” Sanj said, “Why did he have it?”

“Well,” Morgue said, “I was about to ask about it, but then realized that one of the guards was wearing it around his neck. I don’t like thieves, but I despise dirty guards the most out of any criminal.” At this, Sanj couldn’t hold back his snicker and Plageiorath looked at him with concern. “We best be on our way then,” Morgue said to Plageiorath, “We’ve got a couple more bounties to collect. Your friend can come along too, if he wants. Just as long as he’s sure he doesn’t have anything for him here.”

“What?” Plageiorath began, “You just wiped out an entire town’s guards and you’re concerned about whether or not Sanj can come along with us on our journey!? Do you not have compassion!?”

“I understand your concern,” Morgue said while kicking a leg, “But they kind of deserved it.”

“Not all of them!” Plageiorath exclaimed.

“I’m sorry that I killed a few good guards to get to the bad ones, Plageiorath,” Morgue said, “but they attacked me and I have every right to protect myself. Now come on, we have a little more work to do and then you can relax a little bit and unstress.”

“Okay,” Plageiorath said, “But after this is over I wouldn’t expect us to be friends.”

“And to answer your question,” Sanj said, “I have no family left here, no job, and it appears as if I’ve just gotten out of jail. I think I’m alright to join your adventuring party.”

“Alright,” Morgue said, “Let’s be on our merry way.” As the adventurers left the barracks where our party of unlikely heroes increased to three, Sanj spat on the dead body of the guard who stole his amulet.