The road out of Phandalin was lined with quiet fields and the scent of wildflowers, the hum of insects hanging lazily in the air. Near the edge of town stood a small farmhouse, its roof sagging slightly, its walls scarred with years of weather and work. The farmer stood outside, hat in hand, his eyes tired but kind. “You’re the adventurers folk been talking about?” he asked, glancing between them. [[Ellette|Ellette]] stepped forward, offering a gentle smile. “We heard about your wife. We want to help.” Before the farmer could respond, [[Karrut Styk|Karrut]] wandered off to the side — and in a swirl of green light, transformed into a cow. [[Ellette|Ellette]] blinked. “What… are you doing?” “Moo,” said [[Karrut Styk|Karrut]], very seriously. Then, in perfect Druidic, he began conversing with the local livestock. The farmer stared, speechless. “Is he—?” “Unfortunately,” [[Ellette|Ellette]] sighed. “Yes. He is.” After a few awkward minutes of questioning cows and deciphering half-moos, they managed to gather what details they could. The farmer described his missing wife — a kind woman with chestnut hair and a silver comb adorned with a blue gem. He handed the comb to [[Ellette|Ellette]], his calloused fingers trembling. “She was last seen near the old ruins,” he said quietly. “Be careful. Strange things’ve been stirring out there.” [[Ellette|Ellette]] nodded. “We’ll find her.” As they travelled beyond the village, the group grew more comfortable with one another. Between the crunch of boots on dirt and the chirp of crickets, they began to share fragments of their stories — where they came from, what they’d lost, what they hoped to find. Some tales were dark, some wistful, but all carried the same weight of wandering souls looking for meaning. Not long after, they spotted a figure crouched behind a cluster of broken stone pillars — a small man with a large pack and a bigger grin. “Ah! Adventurers!” he whispered loudly. “Don’t suppose you’d lend a hand to poor old **Nib the Explorer**, would you?” [[Ellette|Ellette]] raised an eyebrow. “What exactly are you exploring?” “Treasure, of course!” Nib replied, eyes gleaming. “I’ve been waiting for the undead to shuffle off so I can get back to my findings!” Naturally, that convinced them. The party followed Nib into the ancient ruins — moss-covered walls, collapsed towers, and the lingering stench of decay. Unfortunately, Nib’s enthusiasm far outpaced his caution. “Glorious, isn’t it?” he exclaimed, running ahead — just in time to awaken the dead. The ground trembled as skeletal hands burst from the earth. Zombies clawed their way out, moaning hungrily. Nib, panicked, scrambled up the ruins of a tower, clutching a ledge as the horde gathered beneath him. “Help!” he cried. [[Karrut Styk|Karrut]] shifted his form again, clinging to the tower wall like a spider. He climbed swiftly toward Nib, stretching out a hand. “Grab on!” ![[Poor Nib.jpg]] Nib’s fingers reached — their hands touched — but his grip slipped. [[Karrut Styk|Karrut]]’s eyes widened. “No—!” Nib fell, screaming, into the sea of the dead. When the battle was over, the zombies were nothing but twisted corpses, and Nib… was gone. Half-devoured, his pack torn to shreds. [[Ellette|Ellette]] bowed her head. “Poor fool.” [[Morgar Goldgard|Morgar]]’s voice was low. “At least we avenged him.” ![[Fighting Zombies.jpg]] Still determined to find the treasure Nib sought, the party pressed deeper into the ruins. Among the rubble, they discovered a chest — polished and far too pristine for its surroundings. [[Ellette|Ellette]] frowned. “That’s… suspiciously clean.” [[Karrut Styk|Karrut]] shrugged. “Treasure’s treasure.” He and [[Morgar Goldgard|Morgar]] leaned in and lifted the lid. The chest _screamed._ “Oh shit,” [[Karrut Styk|Karrut]] managed before the thing lunged — a _mimic_, its tongue lashing, teeth gnashing. The fight was messy and short. When it finally collapsed, oozing ichor, [[Karrut Styk|Karrut]] pried a gleaming staff from its remains. “Mine now,” he declared proudly. [[Ellette|Ellette]] rolled her eyes. “You’re insufferable.” ![[Mimic-5e.webp]] By the time the sun began to set, the forest had grown darker, quieter. The air turned cool and damp as they entered a grove unlike any other — twisted trees encircled a ceremonial stone slab at its centre. A faint swirl of mist coalesced before them, taking shape — a figure, translucent and weeping softly. [[Ellette|Ellette]] raised her hands. “Easy now. We’re not here to hurt you.” The spirit’s cries turned sharp. Her sorrow twisted into rage, her form contorting into that of a _banshee_. Her wail pierced the air. [[Rock, the Silent Fighter|Rock]] fell to his knees, blood running from his ears. [[Morgar Goldgard|Morgar]] staggered, clutching his chest. [[Karrut Styk|Karrut]] shouted something lost to the wind as [[Ellette|Ellette]] unleashed a torrent of wild magic, crackling with violet light. When the banshee’s scream finally faded, silence fell. The grove was still once more. [[Karrut Styk|Karrut]], panting, produced a small glass jar and gently trapped a wisp of the creature’s lingering essence. “For… research,” he muttered. [[Ellette|Ellette]] sighed, wiping blood from her lip. “Let’s hope it’s worth it.” The party stood among the ruins of the grove, bruised, exhausted, but alive — another battle behind them, another secret unearthed in the darkening wilds. Their journey was far from over. [[Chapter 4. A Helping Hand]]