It Was A Dark and Not Rainy Night

Beubaun hobbled over to the window and nudged the shutters open. Peering out across the twilight fields his gaze traveled the muddy track to the horizon. "They should be back by now," the old farmer muttered to a healthy mastiff lounging by the hearth. The beast raised its head and after a silent moment of canine rumination offered a sympathetic whimper. "Yah, Lyle, you're right," replied Beubaun. "We'd better go find 'em."

In short order the pair were prepared to march in dark of night to the village. Beubaun lit his lantern and his pipe and paused at the door. The farmer made a quiet plea to The Given, asking for guidance and opened the door for his dog. The massive beast trotted over the threshold into the chill air and immediately halted. Lyle's booming bark sounded twice into the blackness and then he was gone, throwing mud behind him as he tore down the track toward the village.

In the distance Beubaun saw lantern light. Hope blossomed within his breast. He ambled after Lyle toward the distant illumination praying that his granddaughters had returned. It wasn't long before the mastiff reached the light bearers and Beubaun knew immediately that something wasn't right. There was a great deal of vicious barking accompanied by several shouting voices. He ran as fast as his old legs would carry him, jouncing lantern swirling light and shadow across the path.

Panting hard Beubaun kept his pace up trying to cover the distance as quickly as he could. The barking and shouting had ceased, but best he could tell, the group didn't seem to be moving his way. Finally shapes began to emerge before him. Beubaun saw two standing silhouettes, another crouching, and a child. A few steps more and he realized one of the figures belonged to his grand-daughter. "Bee!" cried out the Farmer, vision swimming from the strain. His granddaughter Anhkjxbee looked his way as he neared and the look of shock on her face did nothing to calm his nerves. He didn't recognize the young man standing beside her wearing the trappings of a cleric. He quickly scanned the scene for his other granddaughter. Djandra crouched by Lyle, grim faced as her sister. Had Beubaun any air left he would have sighed in tremendous relief having found his grand-daughters safe, but he gasped and wheezed from the exertion of running across his fields. It was then that he saw the child was not in fact a child, but a halfling, and that halfling stood looking down upon the unmoving form of a man. A fallen traveler, deathly still. It was then, that Beubaun noticed in the ghostly lantern light the bloody maw of his faithful dog, Lyle.