Haven, the capital city of the fanatical religious group known as Seekers, and Haven's Vale marked the western border of the forest. On the northwest were Double Peaks and Starlight Canyon, home of the pegasi. And twenty-five miles from Double Peaks, the White-rage River marked both the southern boundary of Darken Wood and the northern edge of the elven nation of Qualinesti.
For this map to be truly useful, Tas decided, it needed many more landmarks: small streams, valleys, farms, unusually shaped trees or rocks, and good camping spots. Drawing a quill, a vial of ink, and a small knife from his map case, Tas carefully carved a new, sharp tip on the quill. With his leather pouch under the map for support, he sketched a grove of dogwood trees; their distinctive white and pink blooms were too attractive to be overlooked.
After several minutes of this very precise work, Tasslehoff reached for the pack on his left side. Among other things, it held the flask of fresh water he had filled earlier that morning. Mapping always made him thirsty. But he was distracted by an unaccustomed sensation on his wrist; the ornate copper bracelet there felt uncomfortably warm. It must be from the sun shining on it, he decided. As he moved to pull off the jewelry, the world swam around him and Tas felt as if he was about to tumble straight into the sky. Spiced potatoes and duck eggs rose in his throat. He wanted to flatten himself against the rock, but was unsure in which direction it lay. In this state of complete disorientation, something flashed unbidden into his mind. For just a moment, he saw himself reaching into his pack, then, feeling a sharp sting, his hand jerked in pain and a red welt grew on the ink-stained tip of his middle finger.
As suddenly as it came, the vertigo and the vision were gone. Tasslehoff blinked and looked around. His pack was behind him, closed, and his finger was unharmed. He rubbed and flexed it a few times, just to be sure. This was a fine mystery. Almost beside himself with curiosity, the kender dumped the contents of his pack onto the cold stone at his feet. From under the flask, some string, and two pieces of dried meat, poked the hairy legs of a poisonous spider!
"Wow!" Tas exclaimed aloud. "If I had put my hand in there, I'd have been bitten.
"That was like a pre… permon… I saw what was about to happen! I've heard of people who could do that, but I never thought I was one." He shrugged and tapped at his breastbone. "I wonder if it was those three helpings of spiced potatoes. I've never eaten that many at one sitting before." Using the frayed, feathery end of his quill, Tasslehoff flicked the spider from his pile of belongings and watched it scurry away to the safety of another rock. As he scooped his things back into his pack, he couldn't help but admire the bracelet on his wrist.
"I really must return this to that Flint fellow. It gets terribly hot in the sun, and the copper will probably turn my wrist green." With that, Tasslehoff completed his map notes (adding "Spider Rock" alongside the road), recapped his ink bottle, took a long swig from his water flask, repacked and slung his belongings, and set off south once again, trudging merrily away from Solace and Flint Fireforge.
As Tas marched, he noticed that the road was turning in toward the shadowy wood to avoid a range of rugged hills ahead. This did not alarm him-kender in general were remarkable for their complete lack of fear-but it did occur to him that, if any evil was afoot on the road, here was where it would strike. Just in case, he tightened his belt and pack straps and selected a smooth, palm-sized stone from the road. He was quite a good shot with his hoopak sling. Such a stone could shatter a larger rock, or break an arm or leg. Hefting the impromptu missile, for just a moment he felt genuinely sorry for anything that might try molesting him.
That thought quickly faded from his mind as Tas noticed that, once again, Flint's copper bracelet was uncomfortably warm on his wrist. "If you keep annoying me, I'm going to put you back in my pouch, where I will surely forget about you," he scolded, as if to threaten the item. "Then see if you ever get back to your owner!"
Before he could slip the bothersome ornament from his wrist, Tas took two stumbling steps to the right before recovering his balance by leaning on his staff. The world spun past him again as his stomach seemed to turn upside down. Then he heard the jingling of bells and, forcing himself to look up, he saw a wagon rounding a bend in the road ahead. It was the sort of two-wheeled wagon commonly used by tinkers and peddlers, fully enclosed with brightly painted wooden sides and a canvas top. Tas blinked and rubbed his swirling eyes. When he opened them again, he saw the wagon tipped on its side, one wheel spinning crazily, the horse and driver cruelly slain. The startled kender closed his eyes and shook his head to clear his vision. When he again looked down the road, it was empty.
Then his heart thumped as the wind carried the sound of bells to his ears. He watched in amazement as a wagon, very similar to the one he had just foreseen, rounded the bend. It lurched and rocked along the soft road, pulled by a whiskery gray nag. A human, slightly built, sat on the driver's bench, humming absentmindedly to himself.
Tasslehoff was certain something awful was about to happen.
Waving his hoopak above his head, he hollered, "Watch out! There's danger!" Even as he spoke, several things happened. The horse, startled by the shouting and commotion, backed up in its harness and pushed the wagon off the soft edge of the road into a broad, water-filled rut. The wagon tipped dangerously, then settled in the mud and stuck. Tasslehoff heard a loud "thunk" and a rustling noise. Looking up, he saw a massive log at least the size of a man swinging down through the branches on the end of a rope. It swept across the road, precisely where the wagon would have been if the horse had not panicked.
Guttural whoops and croaks rang through the crisp air as several large, ugly creatures broke from cover in the woods and charged toward the wagon. Hobgoblins! Tas had tangled with these savage brutes often enough in his travels to recognize them instantly. Smelly, dirty, sadistic, dressed in uncured hides and brandishing clubs or captured axes, they specialized in ambushing travelers and raiding isolated farms.
Flailing their long, hairy arms and splashing through the muck, they closed rapidly on the wagon, now hopelessly mired. The horse screamed and kicked and somehow managed to connect with the lead hobgoblin. The beast collapsed face-down in the muck, hiding its shattered ribs.
Quickly Tas fitted his stone into the sling of his hoopak. Taking only a moment to aim, he let fly at the closest creature. The stone thudded solidly into its back, drawing a tremendous yelp of pain. The furious hobgoblin turned and its red eyes locked on Tasslehoff. Flashing a greasy yellow-toothed grin, it squealed something unintelligible at another hobgoblin. Thinking they had found easy prey, both rushed toward the kender.
Tas calmly scooped up another stone from the road. This one was small and jagged, just what he wanted. Loading it, he took his time and aimed carefully. As the hoopak snapped forward, the second hobgoblin's head snapped backward. The beast spun partway around, then crashed to the road, dead. Tas resisted the urge to whoop, knowing there was still plenty of danger ahead.
Unaware of its partner's fate, the first hobgoblin ran headlong toward the unarmed kender. Tas planted his feet wide apart and held the sling in front of him like a quarterstaff. The hobgoblin roared brutally, raised its club with both of its gnarled hands, and lunged.
In the last possible moment, so quickly the movement could hardly be seen, Tas whipped the hoopak staff sideways so its metal-shod point faced the onrushing monster and then he drove it forward with all his might. He felt the wood shiver and groan as his weapon punched through the hobgoblin's thick hide and tore a grisly path through its vitals. Hot, rancid breath, stinking like rotted meat, swept over Tas as the hobgoblin rattled out its dying gasp. Tasslehoff leaped aside as the lumbering body plunged past him and crashed to the ground. The kender chuckled loudly, remembering the final look of disbelief in the creature's jaundiced eyes.