Stop me if you've heard this before: a druid, a warlock, and a boar walk into an inn . . .

***

Wyl had often teased Connor that trees were a druid's best friend, but he hadn't let that get under his skin. In fact, he knew if Wyl could see what he could do with trees, he figured the other Harborman would be eating his words. They were on the fifth day of their travels towards Highcliff when the rain had started.

Connor had pulled them under a weeping willow tree and directed the branches to cover them, leading to the rain rolling down the branches to the ground. "Gods, am I glad you're a druid," Savannah sighed in relief, settling down against the trunk of the tree. "I'd just climb the tree."

"We lived with the best ranger in the Mere," Connor reminded Savannah, settling next to her. "You'd have to remember if you climbed a tree, you'd probably get wetter."

Savannah sighed, leaning her head back against the trunk. "How much further until that inn? I wouldn't say no to a mattress for a night."

Connor removed the map of the Sword Coast he had gotten from Tarmas, spreading it out on Savannah's knapsack. He analyzed it critically, then shrugged. "Depending on when we get up in the morning, we should make it to the Weeping Willow Inn by dinner time tomorrow."

"That would be great," Savannah nodded, closing her eyes and trying to make herself comfortable against the tree. When Connor saw her frown and shift restlessly, he chuckled and gestured to Vhaera. His boar chuffed and shuffled over to Savannah, nudging her. Savannah cracked one eye open, then saw Vhaera curl up next to her, looking at her expectantly. Savannah smiled softly, then adjusted her position so she was lying against the boar. "Thank you," she mumbled.

"You're welcome," Connor patted her ankle, shifting so he could find a comfortable place on the ground.

***

"I spy with my eye something . . . green."

Connor sighed, turning to walk backwards while he thought. "My eyes," he guessed.

"No."

"Your eyes."

"I can't see my own eyes, Connor."

He rolled his own eyes, turning back around to catch up with Savannah. "The peat moss."

"That's the type of moss it is?"

Connor's cheeks flushed as Savannah laughed loudly. "I take it that's a no."

"Oh, you are such a druid," Savannah giggled hysterically.

"What else am I supposed to be, a pyromaniac?" Connor asked defensively, holding up his hands.

"No," Savannah waved him off. "That'll be me once I figure out how to transmute my eldritch power into brimstone blasts."

"Just don't practice on any trees," Connor put a hand on her shoulder.

"Never," Savannah agreed.

They walked in silence for a while longer before Connor twirled his finger in the air. "This weird fog?"

"Hells!" Savannah groaned, facepalming. "I was hoping you'd forgotten."

Connor laughed victoriously. "My turn!"

"OK," Savannah nodded, wringing one of her feet around. "Then maybe we'll find a place to stop."

"All right," Connor nodded, looking around their surroundings. "I spy with my eye – " Raised voices caught his attention, and he stopped short, blinking. "Something that's wood."

Savannah snorted loudly, but Connor held out his hand to stop her. The road looked lighter up ahead, and he could see the beginnings of a log fence by what appeared to be an entrance. "The Weeping Willow?" Savannah asked hopefully.

"I think so," Connor nodded, walking on.

Savannah jogged to keep up with him, and when Connor rounded the corner, he stopped short. Three humans were arguing loudly in front of the two-story inn, clubs in their hands. In front of them was a short, stocky, well-muscled dwarf with light skin and a full, dark-brown beard bound with a simple yellow cord. Connor was relieved that this wasn't one of the duergar that had attacked West Harbor; this was a shield dwarf from the mountains.

And he seemed to be goading the others. "Now that we're outside, maybe you'd like to tell me what you said again," the dwarf narrowed his eyes. "Slowly this time, so you can think about what you're saying!"

"You're a small one to be taking this road all by yourself, dwarf," one of the humans spat. "Maybe you've come looking for trouble . . . unless you have a little coin to convince us otherwise."

"Tavern brawl?" Savannah muttered distastefully.

"One gone wrong, maybe," Connor muttered back before coughing meaningfully, drawing attention to them. "What's going on here?" he asked.

"Nothing that concerns you," the human in charge sneered. "This is between us and the dwarf, and whatever coin he happens to have with him."

"Ah," the dwarf nodded. "You're welcome to try to take it, if you're all game. You all can't be frightened of one little dwarf, can you? If you're afraid of being humiliated in front of the stranger and the pretty lass here . . . well, now, that's another matter."

He gave the twins a cheery smile, and unable to help himself, Connor chuckled behind his hand. Savannah openly laughed, making the first human sputter angrily. "We're not frightened of any of you! And it seems to me you need to learn a lesson!"

"This isn't worth someone's life," Connor began.

"This matter is between us and the dwarf here!" the man shouted. "It's none of your concern!"

The dwarf sighed loudly. "Come on! Someone try and hit me already! Even the newcomer here sees that you're all too afraid to do anything."

"All right, I've heard enough of this," the man growled, hefting his club. "Come on, boys. Let's deal with the dwarf and his new friends."

Connor shook his head, looking at Vhaera as he drew his scimitar. "Knock them out, girl."

Vhaera charged forward, Connor behind her to help. The dwarf had one of the brawlers handled already; it took one punch to disarm him, then another punch to the head to knock him out. Connor easily twisted his scimitar the correct way to disarm another, and Vhaera sprawled him out on the ground, knocking him out. Savannah conjured a cone of her magic and directed it at the last brawler's chest; it made him stumble and veer sideways, his very drunken state causing him to trip repeatedly. The dwarf threw a sharp punch to his head, putting him out of his misery.

Connor examined all of them, hoping none of them were dead. He was relieved to know they were all just knocked unconscious. Maybe next time they won't drink as much, he thought dryly, knowing it was only wishful thinking.

He was brought out of his musings by the roaring laughter of the dwarf. "Well, now, that was a good fight! A shame they had to resort to weapons, but if they have to keep the odds even, can't blame them too much."

"Guess I'm guilty of that, too," Connor eyed his scimitar as he sheathed it.

"Nah, lad," the dwarf waved it off. "Glad for your help. And yours as well, lass," he added, nodding at Savannah as she walked up. "Name's Khelgar, by the way – of the Clan Ironfist. Been making my way along the Coast for some time now, stopped in the Willow here for a brief fight."

Connor smiled, shaking the dwarf's offered hand. "I'm Connor Johnson, this is my sister, Savannah, and my animal companion Vhaera. Nice to meet you, Khelgar."

"You seem rather calm, considering these men wanted to kill you," Savannah raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, it's a shame," Khelgar sighed. "I was just looking to trade a few punches, then share a drink when it was all done. Either way, they get my coin, the way I saw it."

Connor snorted loudly, toeing one drunk with his boot. "Well, they don't look like they'll be waking for a drink anytime soon."

"Doesn't matter," Khelgar huffed. "They weren't worthy of a drink anyway, bringing blades into it. A friendly brawl, I would have been up for . . . but robbery with weapons?" He shook his head. "So tell me, what brings you out along the Mere? Roads aren't exactly safe, you know, and they're getting worse all the time."

Connor considered for a moment, then nodded decisively. Shield dwarves were much more honorable than their grey dwarf counterparts, and Khelgar didn't seem the type to want to kill them. "We're on our way to Neverwinter."

Khelgar brightened. "Seems it's your lucky day, then. I happen to be traveling to Neverwinter as well."

Connor's eyebrows shot up. "What brings a shield dwarf from the mountains to Neverwinter?"

"Now that's a tale," Khelgar said gleefully. "Glad you asked! But can't discuss it without a tankard or two, I think. I say we step inside the Weeping Will here and share our stories over a few of the innkeeper's best."

Connor smiled and nodded. "We planned on stopping for the night, anyway."

"Well, then," Khelgar gestured to the door. "After you, lad."

***

Savannah finished off her goblet of whitethistle berry wine, licking her lips to get what had remained. Connor watched her pick another grape from her plate, then snuck one of the ribs from his and snuck it down under the table. From where she curled up at his feet, Vhaera took the offered rib and munched happily on the remaining meat.

Across from them, Khelgar downed the rest of his ale as he finished his story. " . . . so then I punched him in the face for asking, and while he was trying to pick his teeth off the floor, his friend decided to add a few choice words about my heritage. So I punched him, too."

"That's a lot of punching," Savannah muttered.

Connor choked on his apple, but Khelgar didn't seem to notice. "So to make a long story short, I take pride in what I do: fighting. It's something you can't get enough of, and it's something where there's always room for improvement, if you apply yourself, stay focused, and keep swinging. And that's why I'm headed to Neverwinter. I heard there's a house of monks there . . . a monastery, right? Heard they'll train anyone, just for the asking. Couldn't ask for a better opportunity."

Connor took a drink from his goblet – just water for him – while he pondered what he should ask first. Savannah did it for him. "You want to become a monk?" she asked.

"Aye," Khelgar confirmed. "That's the short of it."

" . . . a dwarven monk."

Khelgar snorted. "No stranger than half of what takes place in Faerûn, I can tell you that."

Connor snickered as Savannah blushed. "You have a point," he agreed. "But why a monk?"

"Ah," Khelgar nodded. "As it happens, I didn't always want to become a monk. What happened was – "

The door suddenly crashed inwards, and four heads – two human, one dwarf, and one boar – shot up as one of the bladelings and two duergar stormed the inn. "The Kalach-Cha," the bladeling hissed, a wicked longsword slashing the air. "Find it!"

"Kalach-Cha?" Savannah blinked rapidly, looking at Connor.

He shook his head in bewilderment; he soaked up languages like a sponge, and he had never heard that term before. "It's new to me."

"Yeh know them, lad?" Khelgar jumped down from his chair.

"Meet the beings who attacked our village," Connor gestured.

As if on cue, the bladeling spat in his direction and barreled forward. "Well, how about that," Khelgar grinned widely, and Connor watched him heft the wicked-looking axe he had against the table leg. "Our next round of practice just arrived!"

Connor shook his head, but as the dwarf ran forward to meet his dark counterparts with a yell of "Clan Ironfist!" he couldn't help but draw his scimitar with a smile on his face. "Can't let him have them all!" he shouted to Savannah, who grinned and snatched her throwing stars.

Khelgar hacked away at the duergar, his axe whirling from one to the next. Connor realized as he locked blades with the bladeling, though, that more of the duergar had poured into the inn after the others and were converging on the other commoners in the lobby. Savannah seemed to notice it, too, as she abandoned her stars and grabbed one of the steak knives that hadn't been used. She sprinted across the lobby as one of the duergar raised his dagger on a cowering blonde woman, then tackled it to the ground and dug the knife into his throat.

Connor finally twisted his blade away from the bladeling's and stabbed it through the gut, then kicked the body off his scimitar. A pained cry behind him made him spin around, and a scream came from the blonde woman Savannah just saved. "Zachan!" she exclaimed.

Connor finally found a man with greying hair on the ground, swarmed by two other bladelings. As Khelgar dispatched the last grey dwarf, Connor whistled for Vhaera and charged the last of the outsiders. Savannah tossed a star in the air before launching it past Connor's ear, sinking it into one bladeling's shoulder. As it shrieked in anger, Vhaera knocked its feet out from under it and pierced it with her tusks. As its partner swung around, raising its longsword high, Connor pulled his hunting knife from its sheath on his calf and shoved it through the bladeling's chin, up into its brain. As the bladeling choked and blood gushed down the hilt and over Connor's glove, he pulled his knife back out sharply, grimacing as the bladeling collapsed like a sack of potatoes. "Gods," he shook his head, sheathing his scimitar and gingerly setting his knife on the ground, then undid the straps of his bracers to remove his glove. "That's a bit messier than I expected it to be."

"Nice kill, lad," Khelgar peered over his shoulder. "You all right?"

"I'm fine, Khelgar," Connor nodded, turning to the man looking wide-eyed at him from the ground. "What about you?" he asked, looking him up and down. "Are you hurt?"

"N – no," Zachan shook his head, accepting Connor's hand up. "If you hadn't been here, though . . . "

"Thank you," the blonde woman sniffed as she ran over, checking Zachan over herself. "Thank you so much."

"You're welcome," Connor nodded, watching Savannah come over. "Maybe while we're on the road, I should teach you how to use an actual knife," he smirked, nodding at the steak knife she still held.

"Shut up," she sighed.

Khelgar grunted, eyeing the many bodies covering the tile floor of the inn. "You seem to have a knack for finding trouble."

Connor snorted, only half-joking when he said, "Stay with us and we'll most likely bring you all the brawls you can handle."

Khelgar laughed loudly and clapped him on the back. "And that's quite a lot!" He paused when Connor's knees buckled and the tired youth had to put a hand on Vhaera to keep on his feet. "Steady there, lad," he frowned in concern. "Yeh look dead on your feet."

"Well, considering all we planned on when coming here was a meal and sleep," Connor shook his head as Savannah looked him over in concern, "I probably do."

The blonde woman immediately waved the innkeeper over. "We will pay for your night here," she declared.

"Madam, please," Connor began to protest.

"Call me Gera, please," the woman shook her head. "My husband and I weren't the only ones without weapons here. If not for you, we might not have lived. Please, let us do this for you."

"Please," Zachan added.

Connor opened his mouth to protest again, but a wave of fatigue washed over him, and Khelgar gripped his arm to keep him from falling. "Thank you," Savannah said for him.

Gera nodded and spoke more with the innkeeper. "Come on, lad," Khelgar nudged Connor. "Upstairs with you."

***

When Connor woke up the next morning feeling more rested than he had in days, he found that Gera and Zachan had paid for him and Savannah to spend the night in a two-bed room. His sister was still sprawled out on her bed, and Vhaera was still sleeping from where she had kept watch by the door. Connor took a moment to pick up his scimitar sheath and scratch his companion on the head before he opened the door.

He was surprised to find Khelgar walking up the stairs, a tray of food in his hands. "Mornin', lad," he greeted with a smile. "Good to see you up."

"Good morning, Khelgar," Connor smiled back. "Did you have a good night?"

"I did," Khelgar nodded. "The nice couple paid for my stay last night, too. Rather kind of them."

"I agree," Connor nodded, looking back in his room when he heard Savannah mumble incoherently, which meant she was waking up. "Would you like to come in?"

"If it's no trouble, lad," Khelgar nodded. "I have a proposition for you and your sister."

"Really?" Connor raised an eyebrow, gesturing to the table inside.

"I do," Khelgar nodded, setting the tray down as Savannah sat up in bed, scratching the back of her head. "You see, I've had a good time so far. And the way you attract trouble . . . well, I haven't had this much fun since that tavern back at Bogen's Pass where I was using that trestle table as a battering ram."

"A table?" Savannah mumbled, blinking sleep out of her eyes.

"My idea is this," Khelgar hopped into a chair, looking serious. "We're headed in the same direction and the two of you seem to have more enemies than friends. What say we travel together? Might be able to teach each other a few things."

Connor brightened at the thought. Khelgar's optimism was infectious, and from the way Savannah was smiling, she thought it was a good idea, too. Besides, the dwarf had looked after both of them last night, and it was good to have someone watching their backs. "You have a deal, Khelgar," Connor told the dwarf, holding out his hand. "Let's get to Neverwinter together."

"Good," Khelgar beamed, shaking his hand. "I'd be glad for the company, and the conversation."

"And the brawls?" Savannah asked cheekily.

"That, too, lass," Khelgar agreed with a laugh. "And don't you worry about me keeping up. Khelgar Ironfist carries his own weight. I won't be slowing you down."

"OK, that just made me have more questions," Savannah leaned forward eagerly.

Connor was content to sit back and listen as Khelgar indulged Savannah in the tale of Bogen's Pass as the dwarf passed around breakfast for them: fruits for Connor while he and Savannah ate the bacon and eggs. Khelgar even tossed a piece of cooked ham to Vhaera, which earned him a happy boar chomping away at her meal at his feet.

Khelgar was right, it was a good idea to have more friends than enemies on the road to Highcliff, and judging by the attack on the inn, they had several more enemies ahead. Better keep an eye out for others to help us, he decided. Better safe than sorry.

***

Meet Khelgar Ironfist, a shield dwarf fighter. He's the one you'd sent charging to the front lines because he won't break a sweat while fighting. He's just what the Johnsons need.

graphic by marvelity