“Surely, you are not saying that every man is evil?” the confused half-elf asked of his conversation partner.

“No, Sorgol. You misinterpret what I have been saying. I say that all men are good and evil. We are only mortal casings through which nature is reflected. Therefore, we are, more than anything, natural creatures; as innocent as the lesser fauna that cohabit this plane of existence.”

The two had been discussing the finer points of ethics, philosophy, and religion for nearly two hours, yet neither was able to sway the other from their point of view. Now Sorgol was confused. He began to ask again, but decided against it after opening his mouth. A few seconds later, deciding he must look rather silly with his mouth open in this way, he promptly shut it. The man he spoke with had introduced himself as Felix and was a priest of the druidical beliefs. Sorgol had been raised locally, so he was quite familiar with the druids, for their religion is one of prominence throughout the Spindrift islands. Despite their presence, though, he had never taken the time to study their beliefs. Now that he had studied at the temple to Bast in the city of Backbone, though, he found he was very interested in such matters.

Suddenly, he thought of a retort. In fact, it was such a stunning argument, he thought, that he may at last put an end to this conversation completely, and come out on top! By the time he had sat up to speak, though, Felix's new-found elven girlfriend came back to the table. “Are you two still arguing?” she interrupted, and as suddenly as Sorgol had thought of his argument, he forgot it.

“Now, Eril,” corrected Felix, “we are merely discussing and comparing our beliefs. We have not argued all evening, have we, Sorgol?”

Sorgol was lost in concentration, desperately trying to salvage his line of thought, and this new question was just too much. With a sigh, he abandoned his attempt and returned attention to Eril. “No, of course not. I was just giving your gentleman-friend here a philosophy lesson.”

Soon the conversation had changed to topics of a more mundane level. The pub they sat in was the famous Lion's quarters, the only inn near the fishing village of Midland that catered to out-of-town visitors. Sorgol had just returned from the continent and had spent the last few weeks travelling leisurely from Spindrift, the capital city, to here. Since the islands had no organized temples to Bast or any of the other gods worshiped in Backbone, Sorgol had no true destination. When he befriended Felix and Eril, he opted to spend a few days in Midland. Felix lived in the village and had since he was a boy, fishing for a living, and studying the druidical beliefs when the time permitted. Eril had just recently moved in from Restenford, and seemed quite likely to stay, now that she had met Felix.

“Eril!” came a shout from the doorway, stirring the three out of their conversation. “What the hell gives you the right to have two good-looking gentlemen companions, when I've only got one?”

“Rana!” cried Eril as she stood up to greet her cousin. The two women ran to each other as Felix and Sorgol rose to greet Brother William, who entered the room after Rana.

After a round of introductions, the five moved to a larger table where Sorgol, the last to grab a chair, stopped suddenly and, after an embarrassed pause asked, “Could I perhaps trade chairs with someone?”

Rana looked down at the remaining chair and asked, “What's wrong with it? Somebody spill their ale?”

“Oh no!” answered Sorgol, believing the question to be sincere. “It's not the chair. It's the location. You see, this is the south side of the table and my religion dictates that only north and westerly directions should be regarded as good, while south and east should …” Sorgol stopped when he noticed the looks of surprise from the others. He stood for another moment in embarrassed silence.

“Well,” spoke William as he stood, “we certainly wouldn't want to make you anger your gods now, would we?” He stepped over to Sorgol and clamped a hand on the half-elf's shoulder. “You take my chair,” he said with a smile, “I'll stand guard here and fight off the evil spirits.”

The others had quite a laugh at that, leaving Sorgol to chuckle politely at himself as he took his new seat. Soon, the conversation was going again, but then, after only a moment, Sorgol stood, looked at Rana, and demanded, “I must insist that you explain the medallion you wear, Rana. If you are unable to offer an adequate explanation, then I can not stay in your presence.”

The other four were stunned. After an uncomfortable moment of silence, Eril apologized, “You must forgive my friend, Rana, he has a rather strange sense of humor.”

“I do not jest, Eril,” responded Sorgol. “Your cousin wears a medallion with the symbol of an evil cult. I request that either she explain herself, or I will be forced to part company with all of you.”

All eyes, including Rana's, turned to the medallion. The black metal disc bore a simple design: that of a red, coiled cobra. “This?” asked Rana sheepishly. “This was just a gift from a friend.” She reached back, untied the string, and threw the object onto the table, now quite eager to be rid of it.

Sorgol carefully reached out to pick up the thin metal medallion, all the while staring at Rana. After a pause, he examined the object, and looked back to Rana. “It seems I owe you an apology. This medal is, in fact, the symbol of Bast's most hated enemy, Set, yet you seem to be oblivious to its meaning. Since you were probably raised on the islands, I cannot expect you to know how deep in evil are Set's priests. A word of caution, though: I would not trust the one who gave this to you.” With that said, Sorgol sat down and carefully began bending and scraping the medallion into worthless metal.

“He seemed nice enough,” Rana mused as the conversation slowly returned to normalcy.

Later, after Rana and William had recounted their adventures in the Pentepila in detail, Felix spoke. “There is an island just off the coast here that the fishermen occasionally talk about. When I was a young boy, I remember that there was an ancient castle on its cliffs, but my father would never venture too closely. Now, the castle is gone. It collapsed during a rough storm many years back, but nobody has ventured out to investigate. Superstition holds the fishermen away, but I have always thought there might be something of interest there.”

Rana's eyes widened. “Treasure, perhaps?”

“I guarantee nothing, but it is possible.” He waited a moment to judge peoples reactions, then asked, “Would you like to give it a try?”

The others were surprised, but with little argument, the five agreed to give it a chance. Rana and William seemed more than eager at the prospect of treasure, since their last quest had fallen somewhat short of their expectations. Sorgol, who had been living off the land, seemed equally interested, but was more excited about the prospect of a mystery. Eril felt hesitant at first, but did not show her fears to the others.

Plans were made that evening and equipment was purchased the following morning. By the time they had stocked up on what Rana and William deemed “necessary,” they had little time to convince a boatman to take them there. By the afternoon, they had given up hope to leave this day, and it wasn't until early evening that they found a ship owner willing to sail to the island. Even though he charged five times an appropriate fee, the five agreed to hire him (after a short argument from Eril about finances).

The next morning, July 24th, was warmer than usual and Felix gave thanks to the elements for the sea breeze, while Sorgol noted with caution that it came from the south. After Felix explained that the wind almost always came from the south here, Sorgol agreed to begin the trip.

It was one hour later when they arrived at the island. It stood a full fifty feet above the waves, rocky cliffs ringing its circumference. Felix knew of no way to the top, but Eril soon spotted a large cave mouth where the waters were relatively calm. After a last-minute hesitation from their boat master was squelched by the promise of a share of treasure, the group sailed to the cave opening, figuring it to be the only safe spot to approach the cliffs.

When the cliffs provided to be as impassible here as elsewhere, their hopes of treasure sank, only to rise again when Rana spotted a landing within the cave itself. The boatman sailed the tiny craft into the cave, carefully watching for submerged rocks. Once inside, the boat came to a stop when its hull gently grated against the rocky landing. Before the humans' eyes had adjusted to the dark, Rana leapt from the boat excitedly. “There's a door here!” she gasped.

Sorgol and Eril, both of elven descent, adjusted to the dark sooner and so were first out of the boat to investigate. William and Felix, meanwhile, felt for their equipment and soon had a pair of torches burning. Seeing the door clearly now, the boatman began fidgeting in his seat. “May I leave now,” he asked nervously, “and maybe come back for you later?”

Felix looked back. “Now don't worry. You'll be fine out here. If there's any trouble, we'll be back soon enough. Then we can leave.”

The boatman reluctantly agreed, apparently not much calmed by the druid's statement. Eril, meanwhile, had just finished a detailed examination of the door and began to poke and prod at a locking mechanism with a set of tools she had brought. After a few frustrating attempts, she stepped back, saying “It's as old as the hills and seems to have been corroded shut since before I was born.”

William stepped up then and put his armored shoulder to the task. In another minute, the door was forced ajar. With Rana's help, William was able to open it enough to get through, revealing a narrow stone corridor with steps going up.

In short order, the five had their equipment ready and began up the stairs, where their torch light showed rows of dust-filled shelves and crates in a large, low-ceilinged room. To the left was another set of stairs going up, while straight ahead, a narrow corridor led out of the room. These stairs, though, were sealed with dirt and fallen masonry. As Sorgol began opening crates and examining shelves, William peered down the corridor after handing his torch to Eril.

“There's a light down this way,” he whispered to the others, who immediately made their way past the crates to see for themselves.

Rana, oblivious to William's thought of danger, walked past the cautious fighter to investigate. When Eril came up, William looked at her with an expression of disgust. “Is she always this incautious?” he asked.

Eril smiled back. “Don't try to understand Rana. For some reason, she's never gotten into trouble, despite the risks she takes. Some people have all the luck, I guess.”

Farther down the corridor, Rana, now alone, stopped and called back, “Hey! It's torch light! Somebody must be here!”

“And if they didn't know we were here before, they surely know now,” said William quietly to the others as he drew his sword. “Be prepared for anything,” he cautioned.

Just then, ahead of Rana came a pair of humanoid creatures from a side corridor. Standing barely three feet from the floor to a pair of tiny horns on top of their vaguely reptilian head, they wore a sort of scaled armor that Rana had never seen, and they had at their belts large knives. Simultaneously with a shriek of surprise from Rana, the two creatures hissed in shock at the intruders, revealing four short fangs. For a moment, nobody moved, then William raised his sword and stepped up. Rana, seeing the creatures shirking back, stopped William before he could get past her. “Put away your sword,” she whispered. “They aren't attacking.”

In the back, Sorgol looked to Felix. “Do you suppose they are evil?”

Felix glared back at Sorgol. “You didn't learn anything in our discussion the other night, did you?” After Sorgol registered little more than a blank expression, Felix continued, “I will show you that evil is more than just a racial tendency.” With that, he walked past the two fighters ahead and cautiously approached the two creatures with an arm outstretched as a gesture of friendliness. William slowly spoke to the druid as he continued, “Are you sure you want to do that?”

Felix, never taking his eyes off of the two apprehensive creatures, whispered back, “If we show them no fear and that we come in peace, they will be amicable.” One of the two creatures stepped forward and cautiously extended a hand. “You see,” smiled Felix, “All you need to do is show them the right attitude. They are no more inherently evil than you are, Sorgol, or you, William.”

Just then, the creature lunged another step and grabbed onto Felix's wrist. Before William could react, the large knife at its belt became a blur in Felix's direction. The druid made a sick, gurgling noise as the blade slashed across his throat. Rana screamed and, without pausing another second, drew her own blade and brought it to bear on the creature. The second one, seeing the folly of fighting two double-sized opponents, took to running. A pair of throwing stars from William stopped him before he could run ten paces, while his companion didn't even have time to cry for help before Rana's sword had put a deep gash across his chest.

Sorgol ran to Felix and began tending to the druid's torn throat. He pulled a silvered medallion of a cat's head from around his neck and began chanting in an arcane language, while he tried his best to stop the druid's bleeding. Soon, Felix slipped into unconsciousness and Sorgol's healing magics were spent. “The wound has closed over,” said Sorgol solemnly, “but I don't know if he'll make it. It would surely have been a killing blow without Bast's help.”

William retrieved his weapons, making sure his target was dead, while Rana just stared down at the one she had killed. “What were they?” she asked as William returned.

Without a change in expression, William responded, “Goblins. From the Kobold tribe, I would guess. They will kill at every opportunity. Your friend should not have given them the chance.” Switching his attention to the others, William said, “Eril. Sorgol. We can't waste any time. If we are to continue, we've got to go while the element of surprise is ours.” His eyes dropped to Felix's still form. “Can he be left here?”

Eril began crying. “You don't care about him, do you?” she screamed. “You knew about those creatures, didn't you? You let him approach. You … ” She ran at William and began pounding on his armor with her fists. Rana intervened and pulled her away.

William didn't move. “Your lover's stupidity is no fault of mine, elf. You will see to it in the future that you show more respect to me. I will tolerate this attitude no longer. Rana. Sorgol. Shall we continue?”

Sorgol and Rana discussed their predicament privately. Both agreed that Felix would be safe back in the boat, and that nobody in town could help him more than Sorgol's magics had already. Rana was driven by a burning hatred for the Goblins, while Sorgol had developed a fascination not only for the Goblins, but also for the rooms they had found so far. Neither of the two were fond of William, and Sorgol went so far as to say he felt the fighter was a threat. Yet, both decided to continue. Eril, after she had calmed down a bit, agreed to return to the boat and care for Felix while the others continued their exploration.

As a starting point, since the corridor went in more than one direction here, they decided to head where the Goblin had started to flee. It was a short distance, though, before they came to a branch with the main corridor turning to the right, and a rough-hewn tunnel heading left and up. After a careful examination, Rana announced that the left-most corridor seemed to lead to the surface. The three decided to go to the right.

Soon, the corridor opened into a huge chamber. William's torch barely revealed the far wall and only a minimal amount of detail could be seen to the right or left. In the midst of the chamber, which had a full fifteen-foot ceiling, were scattered the remains of nearly a dozen warriors, all apparently dead for years. Around them lay weapons and armor enough for a dozen more. It was all Sorgol could do to remain quiet.

“What do you suppose happened here?” he asked incredulously, as he stepped in to examine the remains. Rana and William followed, but concentrated their search for evidence of more Goblins or additional exits. Finding neither, they followed Sorgol's example and began searching the rest of the room.

Suddenly, William stopped. In his mind, he felt a strange sensation, unlike any feeling he had experienced before. He cautiously examined the area immediately around him and soon found an unusual sword lying half-underneath a skeleton. It's hilt was visible, and in William's torch light seemed to show no sign of decay or tarnish. He reached down to pick it up, but found himself forcibly and painfully repelled. His cry, and an accompanying flash of light from the sword, alerted Sorgol and Rana who ran to him as quickly as they could.

After a brief, and unsatisfactory, explanation had been given to Sorgol, the inquisitive half-elf carefully reached out and placed his hand near the sword's pommel. “I feel nothing,” he said as he moved his hand closer, cautiously tapping the hilt. Feeling no resistance, he grasped it firmly. “Looks like a sword to me,” he said calmly as he lifted it into the air. Before he could say another word, though, the blade began to glow with a dull yellow light, and a shrill whistle seemed to emanate from within it. Sorgol, shocked, dropped the blade to the floor and as abruptly as it started, the light and noise stopped. “Fascinating!” he exclaimed.

“So it's a magic sword with an antipathy toward humans.” said William with an air of indifference. “I've heard of such things. Let's get on with our search.”

Sorgol was too excited about the discovery to pay any attention to William, and soon he had built up the nerve to lift the sword again. Before it began to glow, though, he thrust it into a deserted scabbard and strapped it over his shoulder. Then, he and Rana followed William out of the room.

It was quite by accident that they found the next pair of Goblins. The three were discussing whether they should climb the tunnel and see if it went to the surface, or whether they should leave well enough alone and head for home. Then, from the tunnel stepped two Goblins. Surprised though they were, one was able to cry for help in its hissing, guttural language before the fighters' swords felled them were they stood. William would not wait for the others. “If there's a fight to be had,” he said as he charged up the tunnel, “I prefer to take it to them.” Sorgol and Rana followed, only a little reluctant.

Around a bend in the tunnel, they could make out sunlight filtering in from ahead as well as the forms of at least a dozen Goblins approaching, weapons at the ready. “What was it you said about a fight, William?” Rana asked. “In my own opinion, if there's a fight to be had, I prefer that they keep their numbers down to a reasonable level.”

“Do we stay and fight?” asked a confused Sorgol as the two ahead of him drew their weapons and stood defiantly. Seeing no reluctance on their part, he rephrased his question. “Do you want me to fight?” he asked nervously, wishing he knew how to use a sword.

“You've shown us your healing magics, wizard,” came William's response. “Now show us your useful spells!”

Sorgol replied with a few quick words in a strange language accompanied by a gesture. From his hand came a single bolt of crackling magic which leapt with blinding speed to the nearest (and biggest) Goblin. It crumpled to the floor with a bleeding hole in its chest.

“Good shot, Sorgol,” Rana said. “Now, it's our turn, William. By my count there are seventeen left.”

The battle was long. William and Rana could easily overpower two or three Goblins at once with their strength, and in the narrow confines of the tunnel, no more than a few could fight at once. Sorgol stayed behind hurtling daggers when his spells ran dry and rocks when his daggers did likewise. But, of course, it was Rana and William who did the most damage to the creatures. When ten were down, the others lost faith and began to retreat. William had taken a pair of solid cuts and was losing blood, yet when Sorgol went to help him, the wounds had partially closed. He had no time to ask, though, before another wave of Goblins came down the tunnel.

“We can't last another assault like that last one,” pleaded Sorgol to the others. Rana, though hardly wounded, agreed and William reluctantly followed suit. The three fled the tunnel and ran to the waiting boat, leaving a pair of crates blocking the cellar. By the time the Goblins had managed to get past the barricade, the adventurers were out of the cave and heading back to shore.

Within a day, though Sorgol treated him with all the magics he had at his command, Felix died, never regaining consciousness. In a small ceremony, Sorgol, Eril, and Rana buried his body in a local cemetery. William did not attend.

Sorgol stayed at the burial site longer than the others and once alone, he kneeled at the grave and said, “You tried to show me your ways, druid, and I can never thank you enough for that. You trusted in evil and that was your downfall. You lost your life on a useless quest for adventure. Someday maybe I will understand your views on the balance between good and evil. Until I find a new friend who will teach me what you could not, though, I will not understand you religion. But I will never forget your lesson, hard as it was for me to learn.”

Far to the west in the mountain village of Haven, a pair of dwarven miners stood awkwardly before the princess Argenta. Their clothes, still soiled from the mines, were ill-suited for a meeting with royalty, yet the princess had insisted on seeing them immediately.

“You would give a ruby this valuable as a gift?” the princess asked as she carefully examined the apple-sized gem in her hands.

“Yes, your majesty,” answered one of the dwarves. “We felt such an item of beauty could only be held by a lady as fair and kind as yourself.”

“Your generosity is appreciated,” Argenta said softly. “I accept your gift and will place this ruby in the royal treasury. But first, I decree that a celebration shall take place two evenings hence so that all of the peoples of Haven may see the village's newest treasure. You two, as well as all of your fellow dwarves, shall be my honored guests.”

The dwarves graciously thanked the princess and began home to tell their friends the good news. Argenta remained in her throne room and carefully turned the ruby over and over again in her hands. “It seems to have an inner light,” she said quietly to her only companion, her court wizard Mirabilis.

“Such a size for a ruby is unusual,” responded the wizard. “An inner light may mean it is enchanted in some way. Allow me to examine it with my magics, m'lady and perhaps I can learn more.”

The princess looked shocked. “And risk your potions turning it green or worse? I think not, Mirabilis. It is a perfectly harmless ruby and we are going to celebrate its beauty, not its value.

Further up in the mountains, a travelling priest stood staring down into the valley where Haven lay.

“Does something trouble you, Catharandamus, my love?” asked a tall, dark-haired woman next to him.

“I sense something odd in the valley below, Alha. It is as if …” A noise nearby stole his attention and the two travellers froze. Alha dropped to a crouching position, while Catharandamus pulled from his pocket a silver figurine in the shape of a sphinx with no face.

“Use your power, my love.” the priest whispered. “We must not let our enemies know where we are.”

The woman concentrated briefly and her features flowed to that of a large wolf. She then raised her nose, sniffed at the air for a few seconds, and charged off into the nearby trees. There was a cry of pain, and soon thereafter the wolf returned. After transforming back to her human form, the now naked Alha licked blood from her hands as she slipped her clothing back on.

“It was just a goblin,” the woman explained.

Catharandamus returned his gaze to the valley. “A goblin, eh? That's unusual. They don't usually venture this close to civilization.” A smile formed across his face. “My dear. Something in that valley beckons. In my heart, I know it is a sign from the old ones. Perhaps the time has finally come.” His smile faded to a wicked grin and the two began walking down the mountain.

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