Critfall Episode 18
Pyrex and Borgin managed to use the beds they’d been renting, if only for a few hours, before they and the gnome made their way through the early morning streets toward their clandestine meeting.

Pyrex glanced over his shoulder. Footsteps and a silhouette dipped into an alley.

“Someone’s following us,” Pyrex said quietly to his companions.

“Yeah, no shit,” the gnome muttered as the footfalls resumed behind them.

Borgin turned on his heel and marched toward their unwanted tail. There was a squeak in the darkness, and the figure leapt behind a lamp post, utterly failing to hide. Although she had swapped her uniform shirt for chainmail, it was nonetheless the half-elf girl from the clinic.

“What ye be following us fer?” Borgin demanded, approaching.

The girl realized that the carefully crafted jig was up.

“Hi there,” she said, leaning out and giving a little wave. “You guys are adventurers, right?”

Borgin glanced back over his shoulder. Pyrex shrugged.

“Aye,” Borgin replied, noncommittal.

“That’s so cool! Well, um, I was kind of hoping I could come adventure with you,” she explained, quickly adding, “I’m pretty good at healing, and I’ve got this hammer.” She lifted her warhammer so Borgin could get a better look; its striking surface bore the graven image of a smiley face. On her other arm she wore a buckler.

“What’s yer name, lass?” he asked her.

“I’m Posie!” she chirped. “Pleased to meet you. Uh, again.”

“Yer a cleric, then?”


“An’ who be yer deity?” Borgin pressed.

Posie beamed. “Thool, lord of glorious violence!”

“Glorious violence, eh? Not ringin’ any bells.” He turned again. “Come on if yer comin’, then.”

“Oh boy!” Posie clapped and raced after him, her skirt bobbing, the heavy footfalls of her combat boots ricocheting over the morning streets.

“Who the hell is that?” the gnome asked as Borgin and Posie joined her and Pyrex.

“Hi, I’m Posie!” Posie replied. “I’m your new healer. What’s your name?”

The gnome glanced up at Borgin. “Seriously?”

Posie looked at them, dewy-eyed. They looked between her and one another. 

“I wrote a song,” she added, hope in her voice.

“A song?” Pyrex asked incredulously.

“Yer a strange li’l critter, aren’t ye?”


“Come on,” the gnome broke in, glaring. “It’s nearly time for the meet up.”

“One problem,” Pyrex noted. “There’s four of us now.”

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