A band of elves and a clan of dwarves with weapons forged and crafted from the highest quality of all the realms began to march straight through Neverwinter and stormed through the Warehouse District. The bunch entered the paths and trails of Windycliffes with the intent of checking each other out. The dwarves pulled out some axes and began to fill lizard men with holes. The elves pulled out magix and wiped out pyro-snakes. A dwarf named Gumples carried a bow and was one of the best shooters I have ever seen. (Even amount the elven race.) This would be a unforgettable night for the elves of The Grey Company.

The band began to trudge along, so Baldar Hmr pulled out his drum. "BOOM, BOOM, BOOM, BOOM!!" I knew right then and there this dwarves name, to me at least, would be Baldar the Boomer! The beat wasn't a rhythmic prodigy, but it served its purpose. I began to dance a rain dance but realized rain would spoil the adventure, so I began a 'dwarven ale dance'. But, I soon learned to call dwarven ale, Creeper Ale. The affects of it creeped up on me when I least expected it. Before I knew what happened, I was a drunkened elf.

After knocking over a few lizard men and pyro-snakes we made it to the Windycliffe Inn. We stormed in and bought a couple of rooms. We ended up sharing a room with WOH Master, a drow that had made it to the surface. A brave drow... Because he stayed around when several intimidating elfs and boistrerous dwarves marched in during his slumber. I guess he felt safe there under reaches of Lord Nasher Gaurds. Personally, if I was him? I'd hit high tail and split out the nearest window.

We hit the road to Llast after a few hours of resting. Gumples, Baldar, Emmarld, Tizer, Strick, Brisid, and I were the trailing group. Just a few feet ahead on the trail we met up with the other group led by Riklaun. The streets became so crowded that there wasn't any room to sneak, or pass by a passerby. I for one was not used to the crowds of a city and before long I was lost as a child could be in the midst of a hundred starngers. I saw T Graywolf and Coridae disappear around the corner and Tizer looking around for the 'lost child'. After several hours of fighting crowds and sneaking around fights, I caught up with my cousins.

Wolves and a big rock looking creature caused a small amount of trouble for my friends and family. This was the fight were I learned that dwarves feel as if magic isn't necessary for fighting. The blades we carry and the bows we weild are all that a person would ever need. I tried to explain the mysteries and arts of weilding magicks to the stout folk, but it was as good as me trying to talk a bird into walking instead of flying. Pretty much useless conversation, so I dropped the subject and drew my sword.