[piosenniel]

With Fréa gone for several days, Archim’s dice party rolled on unimpeded by brotherly remonstrances. The Innkeeper was pleased with the numbers of patrons it had drawn in, and pleased that so far there had been no fights over winnings.

Archim worked hard to keep it so. He was a shrewd better, and won just enough to fatten his purse modestly each day. Tempers were kept under control by having the drunker members of the party sit out or sleep off their ale, and by using the dice provided by the Innkeeper. Since he was not involved in the playing or the betting, his offer of dice was taken to be an honest one, and to top it off, all knew he kept a stout club behind the bar, and would lay into anyone with a heavy hand if they got too rowdy.

Beryl had dropped by the wayside, and Archim could not honestly say he was sorry to see her go. She had clung to him as long as he was the one with the lucky throws, but her affections turned elsewhere when his luck seemed to turn.

Fréa had growled at her when she made a joke to Archim that perhaps big brother had lost his horse and weapons in a game of his own. Archim shushed her, seeing the dangerous glint that had come into Fréa’s eyes.

Archim, in a rare fit of brotherly affection and devotion (or perhaps he had just grown tired of dicing), joined his brothers and Hama in their search for Brytta. It was a search for phantoms, no solid leads, and the flimsy leads they did get, did not pan out.

One of Archim’s gaming acquaintances approached him as the brothers and Hama were having breakfast in the Inn. He pulled Archim aside, and said he had heard something about a group of outsiders seen north of Bree-land. Somewhere in the triangle formed by Chetwood, the Weather Hills and Deadmen’s Dike. The details were sketchy, but not any more so than the other leads they had looked into.

The Forgoils and Hama were sick of Bree and beginning to chafe in each other’s close company. Archim urged them to pack up and get on the road. Another day in this place, and they might do one another in, he feared.

Hama was sent to pick up supplies, while Archim offered generously to settle their bill for food, drink, and lodging – all of which made hardly a dent in the tidy sum he had won in his dice games.

A few hours later and they were heading out the North Gate and up the old North Road toward Fornost. There was mild bickering as Archim complained that his ‘friend’ had said the group of strangers was somewhere between this road and the weather hills, and shouldn’t they range a little wider in hopes of getting news of them?