The approaching figure smiled. His short gray hair reflecting the torch light slightly as if it were made of steel. "There is no need to be concerned, I have come to talk...and you, first born, are not giving the orders here. I am.'

This story takes place weeks before Dragon Slayers, while Alweard was missing from the ranks of the Oathsworn.

((Please keep in mind that this story shall depict dark themes and details, this will be the only warning throughout this part, if you are not capable of reading such things please look elsewhere at the more upbeat posts))

She and I sat on a rocky step in a small cave at the feet  of a beautiful waterfall of her river, in the shade of ivy curtains.

Buderick Fairbairn, laden with a large pack, runs up the main street of Towerglan. He knocks firmly on the door of the second house from the port to which a stocky figure appears.  "Mister Buderick, come inside." the sedated voice expresses with mild surprise. "Aye, g'day Missus Ashdown," he says busily and shyly enters the home. He sits down as the lady of the house pours him a cup of aromatic herbal tea. "I come bearing gifts," he exclaims with well-mannered excitement while opening the pack: