The North Road had always been a dangerous place.

Travellers spoke of wolves in the forests, bandits on lonely stretches of road and stranger things lurking amongst forgotten ruins. Lately even seasoned merchants had begun whispering that the goblins were growing bolder than ever. Caravans vanished. Couriers did not arrive. Something was changing in the wild lands beyond civilisation.

Most people chose safer roads.

Four young adventurers chose the North Road instead, mostly because none of them had asked anybody which road was safer.

Thorn Axehand walked at the front, because heroes walk at the front, and Thorn had read a great many stories about heroes. He was a half-orc with a strong jaw, a stronger arm and a firm belief that courage could solve almost any problem, and that the problems it couldn’t solve could be solved with an axe. He owned one axe. He was hoping to own more. Beside him padded Loki, a big shaggy guard dog with an excellent nose and absolutely no fear, who believed that everyone he met would either become a friend or need barking at.

Derek came next, steady as a walking barrel. He was a dwarf and a cleric, with a bald head, round spectacles, a red beard in neat braids and the calm, patient face of someone who had been looking after other people for a very long time. He was by far the oldest of them. He had not yet said so, because he had not yet needed to. He would.

Dave followed, and Dave was hard to miss. He was a copper dragonborn wizard, six foot seven and covered in gleaming scales, with a long snout, curling horns and a spellbook clutched to his chest. He was also seven years old. Dragonborn grow up very fast on the outside and rather more slowly on the inside, so that Dave had the body of a towering dragon-man and the brain of somebody who still found the word bottom extremely funny. He had somehow learned one of the most famous spells in the world, and somehow turned it into a barrage of flying potatoes. Nobody, not even Dave, could explain why.

Nibbles McPicklepants brought up the rear: a red dragonborn rogue in a dark hooded cloak, with quick hands, sharp eyes and the soul of a market trader. Nibbles believed that everything in the world had a price, that most things were overpriced, and that the best things were the ones nobody had noticed yet. If there was treasure to be found, Nibbles would usually find it first. If there was treasure to be sold, Nibbles would already be haggling.

None of them knew each other particularly well.

None of them had any idea what awaited them.

And none of them had ever heard the name…

Ethium.

The North Road — and four young adventurers who chose it anyway.