At long last I found the poet. He perched protectively over his sweet verses, both he and his stanzas were smeared with mephitic green slime. ‘What ...appened here, mister?’ I asked as if I didn’t know. ‘It was horrible,’ said he with quivering chin. He had a fire of righteous indignation in his glittering eyes. ‘It was a Mordacious. He swooped in, ripped my stanzas to shreds and then attacked me.’ I looked at the ground around the disgusting mess. I located his tracks. ‘Worry not,’ I told him.. The three had been adventuring together for some time, but had yet to build any renown. Their leader was Lady Naomi, a striking figure, powerfully built but with delicate, refined facial features, her fiery red hair flowing in a long braid. Her milky white freckled skin was usually hidden underneath thick plate, with an armoured skirt to improve mobility. In battle she wielded a hammer and a heavy shield. Despite her fearlessness in combat, her noble upbringing had isolated her from the real. More

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