The old man and I sat in the bar of the Old Skull Inn sipping our wine. Thurbal’s weather-beaten face broke into a rare smile "I remember their first meeting, although I little realised its importance to the Dales at the time."

"It was the first day of Deepwinter in the Year of the Shield. I gather that they’d travelled to Shadowdale alone through the winter snows?" - I nodded – "Well that was the first inkling we got of their foolhardy ways. Mind, I gather that one of them was a local lad: thrown off one of the farms further up the Dale or some such. Anyway, I don’t think some of them had been in the village for more than an hour or so when we realised that two small boys were missing." Thurbal’s brow furrowed "I can’t remember their names now. No matter. I was responsible for mustering a search party. As it was after dark we were worried. Very worried. You see, around that time there had been a number of strange disappearances from the Dale, but never children so young before. I was splitting the crowd of Lord Mourngrym’s men and volunteers into patrols to set out into the woods and it was, well, Tymora’s will I suppose" he shrugged, "that meant I put that crew together."

"If only we’d known…" he said, shaking his head.

At this point in the story I turn to the original manuscript of Nyota, the bard of the Righteous Fist. I should tell you that interpretation of such documents is fraught with possible errors and misrepresentations. I have therefore taken great pain to establish corroborating evidence from contemporary sources and visits to the sites of The Fist’s exploits. Nyota records that the patrol was directed into the woods south of Shadowdale. They travelled through the woods for perhaps an hour or so. By this time the patrol had divided into two parties on the direction of one of Lord Mourngrym’s men.

Dark, twisted branches were silhouetted against the full moon. As the wind blew in the trees it seemed that they were reaching out for the humans. Despite the cold, fear made their backs slick with sweat. Two men-at-arms accompanied the Righteous Fist at the insistence of Braenard of Gond (it seems his well known timidity was established early in his brief career) as the Righteous Fist made its way deeper into the woods.

Soon The Fist heard the small whimpering cries of a scared, hurt child. They followed the noise and found the found the missing boys: ensnared in sticky spiders’ webs! Bravely the men-at-arms leapt into action alongside Rufus Iamaman and Killian Silverleaf. Such was their folly, for both the soldiers fell to the poisonous fangs of the spiders; their bodies jerking in spasms of pain as the venom coursed through them. Rufus also faced Kelmvor as one of the loathsome creatures struck at him. He was saved by Braenard’s quick thinking and herbal knowledge. Sadly no such care was bestowed upon the men-at-arms. Nevertheless, the beasts were soon slain as Shere Khan and Nyota laid mighty blows upon them. From that day forward, Rufus held a healthy respect and great hatred of spiders…

The Righteous Fist was hailed as a heroic band for the safe return of the two boys, Rafael and Jarvis. Sadly that reputation was tarnished as the Fist also returned with the poisoned bodies of the men-at-arms, twisted and bloated by the venom. At Killian and Cethorlyn’s urging the Fist made a monetary donation to the families of the dead troops. Enough to ease the emptiness in their bellies, if not the ache in their hearts.

All in all it seems that the Righteous Fist was pleased to negotiate its first experience of real combat. Slowly these adventurers would see their prowess and courage gain strength as they began to accept more responsibility for fighting their own battles. However, as we will see, there would be many hiccups along the way.

The following day was bright and clear with a sharp frost. The Righteous Fist spent their time relaxing and luxuriating in their new-found celebrity, minor though it might have been! Braenard spent some time visiting Hoareb Nimblefingers, Shadowdale’s midwife and healer. He was seeking brews to relieve the effects of venom, this being one of the (numerous) things of which he was afeared. Hoareb could not provide him with such a preparation. She did, however, bid him to her service: requesting that he bring her some juniper berries. Despite these fruits not growing locally and being out of season Braenard accepted this task with enthusiasm, if not success!

On the third day of Deepwinter the Righteous Fist was roused from their slumbers early. Thurbal had demanded to see them. Following their success in finding the missing boys, he had another "search and rescue" mission for them. One of the Shadowdale patrols had gone missing to the east of the village. The patrol had been sent on a search for goblin-kin ("Larger than a full grown man they tells me.") whose activity had been reported in the woods to the east of Hyne Bestil’s farm. They had been due to return the following evening, but nothing had been heard of them.

The Fist knew that this was an opportunity to redeem themselves for the loss of the men-at-arms to the spiders, so they accepted the commission (of 25 golden lions each) eagerly. They made a prompt departure and set off on the narrow, overgrown woodland path. This time Braenard’s request for an armed escort was brusquely denied - The Fist was on its own!

After an hour or so’s journey through the dense vegetation The Fist was attacked. A huge creature, over seven feet tall burst out of the undergrowth and attacked them! It was a fearsome, hairy humanoid wielding a disturbingly large axe. As the creature attacked a net trap sprung up from the floor! Luckily Rufus managed to dive out of the way of the trap, springing quickly to his feet to face the monstrous foe. The fight was swift and bloody. Braenard administered healing to Rufus’s minor wounds, intoning Gond’s good name as he did so. The creature’s rough shelter was found nearby. Clearly it had found some success with its ambush ploy, for there was much loot to be had: gold and platinum coins, a healing potion and a scroll bearing spells of interest to Cethorlyn, Shere Khan and Nyota. This brought much pride to their hearts - their first treasure haul! Unfortunately there was still no sign of the Shadowdale patrol. The Fist pressed on.

The weak winter sun was reaching its highest point in the sky when the Fist saw a pale, thin column of smoke. The rapidly moved towards it, slipping and stumbling on the iron hard frozen ground. The smoke was drifting out of a cave entrance set into the side of a small hillock. Moving around the cave mouth were two huge creatures at least nine feet tall though they walked with a stoop. They had crude, rough features and huge black teeth. They immediately saw The Fist as it rushed into the small clearing of beaten earth around the cave and they raised their clubs and moved forward, deep growls coming from their throats. Once again The Righteous Fist prevailed after a brief battle. The victors began the search the cave, and here I can quote a particularly evocative passage from Nyota’s journal:

There was more loot to be gained here, Rufus was particularly relieved to find a magical scroll that would protect him from venom. Such treasure was not enough to lighten the hearts of the members of The Righteous Fist though. The image of the horrors endured by that patrol would haunt them for some time to come.

Perhaps adventuring was not to be the glamourous entertainment of tavern tales after all.

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