Adventure and troubles seem to await me around every corner. The journey from Pyr had been an arduous one, filled with danger every step of the way. Never ever being able to rest or relax, and using guile and a fleet foot more often than my magic or sword, meeting new friends along the way, some who helped and others who hindered. I finally arrived in the fabled Tryker lakelands looking forward to a peaceful time on the beach, to refresh and recharge while relaxing my weary feet in the clear blue still waters.

After battling my way from my beloved desert the cries and screeches of the Kinchers and Kippee that had pursued me now seemed so far away Having arrived at last with my sword dulled and armour ripped I knew I deserved this rest. But before I could even relax on that first day the citizens around me cried out in urgency and alarm.

Rumours began of a Karavan preacher who had appeared and was asking urgently for assistance in repelling an imminent invasion. Whether this true or not I didn’t know, as with all the people milling around I did not get to talk to this preacher myself, but there was no doubt I could see one of their vehicles floating in the air near the town entrance. I was in two minds about what to do here, for the Karavan can never be trusted in what they say, but I remembered what the Tryker people had done for the Fyros in days gone by and decided if they needed help, then I was there to give it.

Gradually the recruits started to fill the town of Windermeer as not only were the citizens of every Tryker city here to help push back this threat, but the Matis peoples had started to arrive in numbers, the preacher having opened a teleport for assistance from that distant forest land.

As more details emerged, it seemed that some primitive tribes of Gibbai and Cutes had massed in Bounty Beaches due to a strange turmoil in their own lands of Zorai. Our first task was to protect the Karavan outpost that had been set up by an advance group, once we had established the safety of this and formed a base there, we needed to hunt down and stop the tribes.

Strapping on our swords and armour we formed our groups and strode forth to do battle. At least the confrontation was to be on desert sand and not one of the numerous islands, or, thank Jena, the oceans. What little resistance we encountered was soon brushed aside and the confidence of the group rose once more. To our relief the Karavan outpost was intact, and now seemed the time to strike out before the tribes could organise themselves.The Karavan guardians told us they had spotted three main camps that we needed to locate and destroy, ensuring that the leaders did not escape.

The mass of warriors and mages moved warily into the red sand, soon to encounter the first Gibbai patrols which were swiftly overwhelmed and despatched as the army stormed forward brushing them aside by sheer numbers, and even the waves of aggressive Cute attacks broke upon our stout defenders’ shields. The healers of the group called upon every last iota of magic to restore the frontline to health while the mages cast death from the air upon the swarming mobs. As each wave was broken the group would advance to find yet another mass of enemies streaming down on them, soon our forces were stretched in an ever thinning column which could not defend itself.

Spurred on by their early success those at the front felt the rage of battle lust form in their blood and moved ever forward, but still the Gibbai and Cutes struck at the rear of the column focussing on the defenceless healers and forcing the fighters to split their already decimated ranks. Seizing this opportunity the primitives rallied and struck once more at the greatly reduced force at the front. With their healers under attack and dying at the rear of the column the warriors could not contain the ferocity of the enemy and they died where they stood. Slowly the column was beaten back to the Karavan outpost where the injured where healed and plans hatched once more. Three times the column marched out and three times our brave forces were beaten back, death taking its toll each time on our declining numbers.