Owen Stonebreaker was a young man brought up on a farm by his older brother He was in charge of

the horses as he had the temperament for it. He has many brothers and sisters and his parents died
at a young age. His older brother, Horus, took over everything.

Owen hated farming, and loved the woods but stayed to help the family especially as his brother
drank, and would often turn on the other children. Owen was always there and seemed to take the
brunt of it. He loved his younger sister, Greta the most. One day, Horus was beating Greta badly
and Owen had had enough. He attack his brother and broke his leg. The King's men arrested him,
and he could either have both legs broken,or become a soldier in the King's Keep.

He took the second option. One of the Rangers in the King's Legions took a liking to Owen and
started to teach him the ways of the forest. Owen took to it like a fish in water but being a Kingsmen
was not to be his fate. A Duke came to visit the Castle and Owen found the Duke attacking a young
house maiden no older then 14. He again lost all control and beat the Duke so badly even the clerics
could not heal his nose.

Brice the Ranger came upon Owen first and told him he would have to run as if he is every caught, it
would mean hanging even if Owen was in the right. He left that day and now is learning to become a
ranger. He also has a bad temper when it comes to people who can't defend themselves being
attacked. It is sure to get him in trouble if he does not learn to control it.

Owen knew he should be farther away from King Jarat’s lands, he knew that Duke Bartrum bore a
grudge and had his own armies scouring the land for months trying to find him. He also knew that
Bartrum’s expeditions were causing skirmishes with his neighbors in the border lands of the small
fiefs that make up the kingdom of Akra, and that talk of war began to form in the valley.
Owen scowled. “You should take your breaks like a man, you cowardly scoundrel.” He swore under
his breath.

No doubt that was the cause of what he saw happening before him as he crouched amid the rocks and
surveyed the scene.
Several men were surrounding a horse, and he could see the rope leading up from their midst into the
tree. Someone was to be hanged, then.

When the men parted, Owen could scarcely believe his eyes. On the horse was a child, noose around
his neck. His hands were tied and his mouth was gagged, and he squirmed and cried as the men
stepped back.
As one man rose his hand to strike the horse, an arrow exploded through his neck and hit another of
the trio in the shoulder. Owen followed his shot with the blade and leapt toward the third man.
The man threw up his hands in terror, and he began to scream “It wasn’t me! I wasn’t going to do it!
It wasn’t me!!”
Owen closed the ground quickly and just before he reached the terrified man, the horse reared and
bolted. At that moment Owen’s gloved fist crashed into the man’s jaw, sending him reeling. He
wheeled to try to save the child…

and there was no child.

There was nothing, no rope, nothing at all. He heard a sound and looked up, and there in the tree
among the branches was a Halfling, tied and gagged, noose around his neck. He pleaded through the
gag for assistance.
Owen’s anger flashed again, there was supposed to be a child! He saw a child and came down to
rescue a child, and now, up in the tree was this… this...
“You there! Who are you!” he yelled as he sheathed his sword.
The Halfling mumbled loudly through the gag.
Owen heard a rustle and turned to see the man with the injured shoulder crawling away.
I’ll be damned, he thought.
“You there. Where in the Hells do you think you’re going with my arrow?”
Owen kicked the man and rolled him over, and with a twist tore the arrow from the man’s shoulder.
He screamed, partly in pain, partly in terror and scrabbled backwards. “Get away from me!! I didn’t
have any beef with the little shit! You killed Jarl! You killed him! Get away from me!!”
Owen looked at him and said “Yeah, I guess I did. Almost got you too.” Owen wiped the blood of
the arrow on the man’s tunic.
“You’re lucky.” Owen shook the arrow at the man. “Just so happens this little wood has plenty of
healing herbs that can save your life from that hole you got in your shoulder. If you know what to
look for, that is. I mean, there’s also a few things that will kill you deader than your friend over there,
but it won’t go as fast as it did for him.”
The man whimpered. “What are you going to do to me?” he stammered.
“Do? I already did to you what I’m going to do. If you want me to do more, that’d be up to you. I
suggest you get a move on, it’s going to be dark soon and the town gate is a bit of a ways off.”
“Wh, what?” he whined.
“I say you best get moving. You know why there’s a wall around the town right? Ah well, you’ll find
out, dropping blood all over the ground like that after dark is a sure fire way to get yourself
acquainted with the local wildlife.”
“Y.. you’re crazy!” he screamed as he got to his feet.
At that moment the Halfling appeared at Owen’s side “Yeah?? Well you wait to see what I do to you
if I ever see you again!”
Steel flashed in his hand, and a pair of small but sharp daggers were pointed directly at the man, who
stumbled backwards and fell again.
the Halfling kicked him. “Get going! You better hope you never see me again!”
The man ran. After a few moments of stumbling through the underbrush he was gone from view. The
Halfling turned to Owen and said “Wow! Look at him go! You came along at just the right time,
mister!”
“Now hold on there.” Owen said. “You owe me some answers.”
The Halfling eyed him warily.
“First, what in the name of the Hells was going on here? Why were they fixing to hang you? And
don’t try to lie to me! I can tell when somebody’s lying” Owen glared with one of his eyes and held
up a finger.
“So can I. Now put your finger down, you aren’t detecting anything.” Said the Halfling, sliding his
daggers into a hidden pocket faster than Owen could see where they went. “Come on now. Let’s be
friends. You saved me, after all!”
“Why were they gonna hang you!?” Owen shoved the Halfling. “Why did I kill a man!? Why in the
name of the HELLS are you dressed like a CHILD?!”
The Halfling regained his footing quickly and said “Ok, Ok, now settle down. There’s reasonable
explanations for everything.”
“Well I’m waiting to hear them!” Owen bellowed.
The Halfling drew himself up. “Ok, first off, I am dressed like this because folk are more apt to give
a few coins to a beggar if he’s a child. Second off, they accused me of stealing their purse, which is a
total lie! I never did any such thing! They accused me, manhandled me, knocked me out and dragged
me out here and were going to hang me until you came along! Thanks, friend. I mean it!” the
Halfling grinned.

Owen fumed. “I never said I was your friend! What else happened? Why did they accuse you?”

“I was in the tavern, and I happened to bump into him. His purse, a cheap lousy rotten piece of junk
that was probably made by a goblin, fell on the floor! The strings broke! Well of course, I bent to
pick it up, being as I’m so much closer to the floor than the poor deceased gent over there on the
ground, and next thing I know he’s grabbing me up yelling that I nicked his purse!”

“well ... ?” said Owen.

“Well what?” said the Halfling

“Did you nick his purse?” asked Owen.

No!” cried the Halfling. “He caught me before I got out the door.”
“So you did try to steal his purse” Said Owen.

“Try. This is a word with many meanings.”, the Halfling said, holding up a finger.
“Did I try to steal it, or did I try to go immediately to the militia to turn it in like a good citizen? Who
can say? You’ve heard my side of it. You can ask him over there for his if you’d like.”

Owen furrowed his brow. “Why do you beg in the town? Why aren’t you in your village? Don’t you
Halflings like to stay together?”

The Halfling’s face darkened. “I would if there was a village. If any of my people were left.”

“What happened to your village?”

“Broken Beak Bartrum happened to my village. We were under the protection of the Viscount Ispep,
but it was no good. His forces were overrun, the Duke’s army burned my village and killed my
people. I was tramping in the hills and saw it unfold, I managed to avoid them, but I swear, the day
will come before I die that I will slide my blade between the Duke’s ribs. Since then I’ve done all I
can to survive. I don’t mean to harm anyone, but I need to eat. I only cut the purses of those who can
afford it.”

“That’s what they all say” said Owen. “Come on. Let’s get out of here before the wolves come for
the dead man.”

“My name is Errich, my good man. Errich Tosscobble, son of Mellich Tosscobble, of Tosscobble
Hall, er.. that is, if it still existed.”

Owen grumbled and told Errich his name.

For the next several months Owen and Errich adventured together, harassing the Duke’s troops and
defending those in their path. The Halfling proved adept with the daggers, and had a knack for
spotting traps and ambushes.

It was mid-afternoon on a hot day when the patrol they had been tracking entered a small ruined
compound. It used to be someone’s house, now it was overgrown with weeds, the walls cracked and
tumbled. Owen knew the place, knew it was empty. The patrol must have also known, because they
broke down their gear and began to set out lunch.

“Mmmm. Lunch sounds terrific” said Errich.

“Shut up. They’ll hear you.” Owen hissed. “we will move to the left and attack them from beneath
the arch. They will be forced into the narrow rubble. Don’t stop for a snack until they are all dead, is
that understood?”

“Is that salami?” said Errich. “And cheese?” He began to run toward the arch.

“Hells! Keep your damned voice down!” seethed Owen as he followed.

As you pass through the arch there is a flash and a sharp crackling of energy. You instantly feel a
strange and powerful tingling. and then in another instant a sensation of speed as you’ve never felt
before, going every direction at once.