Long lizards, lazily languishing, lacked any sort of warning as a cloaked Drow fell among them. The hunter made quick work of them, relying on quick reflexes to stab at the fleeing lizards with his spear. The final hit was a head shot- the lizards fragile skull exploded on impact like an over-boiled cabbage, showering bits of bone, brain, and an effusive amount of bloody gore. Rhyl’drin ducked to avoid the various shrapnel, but all he managed to achieve was to catch his boot on a strangling root. The spy fell flat on his face into the newly killed corpse.

“Bah!” The Drow sprang up in horror and looked down- he was drenched in lizard blood. “My best cloak...” he mumbled in disbelief. Needless to say, when faced with a shower of bloody lizard-shrapnel in a rain forest full of devious roots, he never did that again.

The Drow tried to ignore the indignity of having been drenched in blood and started cleaning out the corpses. The hearts, livers and brains all went into specially prepared jars- he intended to test them for alchemical properties later- and the skins he through into an old burlap bag. The skinned carcasses were his chief prize, though. He had been told that folks in Talche’el would pay a good price on the meat, and he hoped to turn a quick profit here in the rainforest.

“Come, Nag!” Out of the jungle trotted a black mare. Rhyl’drin had hidden her downwind so the lizards didn’t smell her coming. When he was finished packing the fresh kills on her back, he cautiously dismounted. Throughout their stay in the rainforest, she’d constantly been tripping over roots, leading Rhyl’drin to the conclusion that she planned to throw him and thus achieve her freedom (hence the term “Nag” to address the poor beast). He cracked the blunt end of his spear against her thigh. “Hah! You won’t throw me so easily with all that weight, will you, Horse?”

The horse neighed innocently.

As Rhyl’drin road through the thick jungle in the general direction he believed Talche’el, he couldn’t help but feel a little uneasy. Everything lately had just gone wrong for him. After all the intrigue Lord Viterius and his crew, Rhyl’drin had needed a long holiday, and it had provided the perfect opportunity to go hunting. But now it seemed even his horse was trying to kill him, or at least seriously injure him.

“I just hope this ‘Tim the Enchanter’ is good on his word,” Rhyl’drin spoke aloud. “The coin he’ll pay for all this will go towards getting us back home, Mara.” The horse whinnied at hearing her real name. “But from what I’ve heard, Tim has a penchant for forgetting the prices he quoted...”

Rhyl’drin thought grimly that he would probably not be able to fight back against an enchanter, if the fellow proved to be as ‘forgetful’ as others said he was. “I... I almost wish I had stayed in the Underdark.” The regret, though voice only to a horse and the jungle, was genuine. It felt like a lifetime ago that he had willingly forsaken the land of his birth to come to the surface, after the disastrous war on the moon that his city participated in. “At least I would know what it was I was looking for there. Here everything is foreign.”

And then, as if on cue, the city appeared in front of him. At least something worked out without too much trouble.

*****

Inside the city, Rhyl’drin immediately became aware of an acutely important detail he’d never been told about.

The city was primarily inhabited by Lizarains.

And he had a whole string of lizard carcasses on the back of his horse. The stares he got were anything but friendly.

In addition, the city was incredibly confusing to navigate. Several times he had to stop and ask for directions, but when they heard “Tim the Enchanter”, it was as if they all suddenly felt an urgent need to get going about their business- right then. Rhyl’drin looked everywhere for an assassin or someone coming to kill him- it seemed as if everyone in the city wished him harm, or so he thought at least. Finally, out of desperation, Rhyl’drin stopped in at the one place he knew he’d feel at home in- the pub.

“Wine. Red. Strong.” The bartender, a strange looking... man-ish sort of fellow... took one look at Rhyl’drin and without question poured a full mug. Rhyl’drin swigged it as fast as he could- [b]the wine tasted just like defeat- it had a bad aftertaste, and it left Rhyl’drin significantly depressed.

“What’s the trouble sonny?” the man-esque bartender asked. Rhyl’drin couldn’t help but stare at the man’s ram horns, which protruded from the sides of his skull, as they conversed.

“I’ve been looking for this fellow, Tim the Enchanter, ever since I got in the city. I... everything I’ve done since leaving Lomedor has gone wrong.”

“Perhaps it is the gods, testing you, leading you to the holy path by dangling a carrot, success, within your grasp, and then pulling it just out of reach.”

Rhyl’drin fixed a blank stare at the bartender.

“I tried”, the man said with a shrug. he turned to go back to the bar- then stopped. “Have you noticed that smell?”

Rhyl’drin subtly attempted to check himself for an odor and nearly gagged when the lizard-blood scent overwhelmed him. “No, I haven’t.”

“Harhar, haven’t you, Rhyl’drin?”

“How do you know my name?”

“Because”, said the goat man, “I am... TIM THE ENCHANTER!”
A dazzling array of lights, colors, and smells flooded the room as the Enchanter outstretched his hands. Suddenly, he jerked his arms down. “Sorry, but the I reserve the rest of the show for paying customers.”

Rhyl’drin blinked. “So... do you want those lizards?”

“Ah yes, let us see the fresh kills!”

Outside, the Enchanter shook his head sadly at the carcasses. “Come now, Drow, did I ask for you to pulverize them like a hippopotamus would the ground it treads upon?” Rhyl’drin assumed that a hippopotamus was some sort of jungle creature that he didn’t know about. “Well, did I?”

Rhyl’drin shook his head slowly. “There was no mention of what condition the carcasses were to be in. How did you expect I would kill them?”

“With your mind, boy!”

Rhyl’drin laughed. “Fine, old man. You don’t have to be so ridiculous if you plan to ask for a discount. Even breaking even for me at this point would be a gift from the gods.”

Tim the Enchanter smiled. “In that case, nice doing business with you.”

Finally, the carcasses were sold for hard currency. Rhyl’drin breathed a sigh of relief. He turned to the horse. “Finally, Mara, we’re ready to head home.”

Mara nodded... and then to the horror of Rhyl’drin, opened her mouth and spoke. “Yes, now that I have the money and no burden to bear, you won’t ride me so easily, will you, Man?”

Then she kicked him in the face. And so the horse took it’s revenge.

*****

Rhyl’drin awoke with a start, clutching at his face. “Mara, you killed me!” But slowly the nightmare resolved into reality. Rhyl’drin looked around. He was in his room, in his own bed. On his bed stand was a pipe, a pouch of pipeweed, several empty bottles of rum... and an open book about the Taureosa Rainforest.

“Oh... it was all just a dream.”