"Gah, bloody auction house, some thieving gits stolen my axe!" In one move the note was scrunched into a tight ball and hearled at a nearby goods vendor, who was paying little attention to the angered dwarf. "What’s your pr...." started the vendor, before looking at Hollin whose hand had moved towards his axe, his face in a tight grimace.

The vendor quickly decided that the dwarf was in no mood to be reminded of manners and retuned to his business. Sparing briefest moment of a smile, Hollin returned to the mailbox to see what other bad news there was. A single note was left in his box containing a familiar scrawl. “Just a reminder old friend. You’d had a few ales when I went to bed, so I figured you might have forgot. We are escorting that chicken in the morning, see you on the shore at 10.”

“Forget, who does he think I am.” Hollin snorted as he turned towards the dock. He had forgot, but that was far from the point. “Escort a chicken…. A CHICKEN, I’ve got to stop drinking so much”.

The boat journey did little to help his hangover or his mood and he was still feeling ill as he mounted his ram and set out to meet Daal on the shore of feralas. A roar came from the right as an elemental road over the ridge of a sandune. For the first time this morning the dwarf mustered a smile, as he waved a rude gesture at the elemental and kicked firmly. His ram thundered off down the beach. The elemental followed for some distance before realising he wasn’t going to catch Hollin up, and returned to whatever it is that elementals do.

Hollin rode through pack after pack of angry elementals waving his axe and cheering, finally something had lifted his mood – annoying dumb creatures. Then a sudden pang of memory gripped him and he looked down. Dam, the tabard, I forgot to put it on, pulling hard on the reins his ram stopped suddenly and allowed him to dismount. Hollin rummaged through his backpack searching for the cloth garment. His pack was full of mithril (since elven villages don’t have anvils for him to use), so full that he never heard the elemental until it smacked him clean around the head.

Reeling from the blow he grasped for his shield just in time to block the next blow, before seizing his axe. A few swings later and the elementals furious attack was starting to diminish, though it was still dealing blow after blow on the seasoned warriors thick armour. Undeterred he stood his ground and dealt hit after hit to the elemental who was starting to look like the battle was not going his way. All was going well, until a screech hawk descended from the banks above, thumping a great blow to the back of the head. Suddenly the fight was between two enemies (three if you include the hangover), and did not look good. Changing his stance he raised his shield more and dealt smaller sweeping blows, but the battle looked lost, he was just about to start to flee when another roar was heard in the distance, a third assailant looked set to join the affray.

Hollin’s heart sank, until the familiar shape of a cat leaped straight over his head and began gnawing at the hawk, followed closely by the twang of a bow, which ploughed to back into the Cliffside. Facing only one enemy now, Hollin turned back to the elemental, dropped his shield and threw his axe into him with all the force he had. A mortal cry leapt from the hole that constituted a mouth before the elemental dissipated back into its own realm. Spinning round he swung once more into what was left of the hawk which quickly stopped screeching.

Breathing hard, and still clutching his wounds, he hacked the shoulder from the dead body of the hawk and tossed it into the air above the cat, whose face was covered in blood. “Good girl Jessie.” Jessie leaped into the air and caught the meat, before trotting faithfully back towards a smug looking Daal. “Looks like you needed a hand old man?” He smirked.
“I had it covered” he grumpily replied. Great he thought I wont hear the end of this.
“Im sure you did old man, I just wanted to give Jessie here some exercise.” Both of them regarded the animal with a smile. “Shall we go?”. The three of them turned and headed into the hills, Hollin tried to hide his limp, and Daal ignored it, his hangover had still not cleared.

“Hang on where’s your tabard?…”
“Shut it, just shut it…”