Waking up to see rays of light seeping through the roof, Mu discovered himself to be in a small thatch hut. His smaller counterpart was still asleep on the straw pile next to him, letting out a stream of only the fiercest snores.

Sitting up quickly, the large warrior scanned the area, trying to piece together his memories. Weren’t we attacked by pirates? the man thought, trying to wade through the events that took place during his delirium. Through the powerful snoring, a sound caught Mu’s attention.

Someone was singing softly right outside the hut, chopping logs for firewood. Mu tried to peek through the cracks in the strung together wall, but couldn’t make out enough of a shape to tell who was there with them. Doing a quick check over all his gear, he decided nothing was missing and moved over to his jester friend to wake him.

“Hey man, we gotta go,” the large warrior whispered, gently shaking the small man. The astonishingly loud snoring only grew louder as Mu shook his jester, and after more than a few seconds, the abnormally large man decided to simply carry his friend. Hefting him up on his shoulder, the adventurer opened the door to the hut and stepped out into blinding sunlight.

*******

Sweat dripped off of Sheila’s brow, as the tall woman forcefully sent her axe cracking through log after log. The forests of Allyria grew strong trees, and it took considerable strength to cleave through enough lumber to make firewood for the week. The woman was an outlander, and was not used to this denser wood.

As she sung in a soft voice, still practicing her Allyrian accent, the large woman wondered if the Icarians would be able to recognize her real origins. Only a river separated Shandar from the Domain of Icar, after all; and Sheila knew tiny bits of her real accent had shown through already.

Determined to finish her current job before the strangers in her hut woke up, Sheila did not notice when the large adventurer walked out into the sun. 

Mu stumbled around for a second, slowly regaining his sight; and accidentally dropped his jester in the process. With the loud thud, Sheila looked up to see the large disheveled man looking both lost and confused, while the small jester continued to snore away on the ground next to him.

She grinned from ear to ear at the sight, threw her axe away, and clapped her hands for the adventurers. “The two o’ ya had me fooled before. ‘Ere I thought I was dealin’ wit’ a couple o’ adventurers!” she chuckled in a giddy voice, still sounding eerily similar to a leprechaun.

“Come come,” the woman gestured, attempting to lead the men back into the hut. “We ‘ave much to discuss. I believe you boys ‘ill be quite ‘elpful to me.”