Roan raised her head and listened. There it was again – the sound of someone or something in the woods outside the camp. She prayed silently that it was Harpers, or at the very least Purple Dragons, but since she wasn't sure if they were still in Cormyr, the latter was a forlorn hope. Still, even death was better than what she was headed for, especially if the leaders of the camp ever discovered she had been preparing to train in a temple of Mystra. Cyric's followers were especially cruel to Mystra's followers – so much so that prospective acolytes were under strict orders to not carry holy symbols until they had received enough training to put up a defense if they ran into Cyricists. Since she had no training at all, beyond the scattered bits of lore she had learned from her brother, she knew just how helpless she was, and how much she would suffer if she ever reached whatever destination was at the end of this journey.

The sound came again, and now she was certain. Someone – no, several people – were out there, and they were sneaking up on the camp. Suddenly, a cold wet nose poked her in the back of the neck, and only her fear kept her from screaming at the shock.

"What'd you find, Freki?" a man's voice softly asked. He came briefly into view, and Roan felt herself almost faint with relief at the sight of the symbol of Kelemvor on his chest. He paused, seeing her, then asked softly, "How many of you are there?"

"I'm not sure," Roan answered. "There were a dozen of us when we left my village, but I don't know how many have died since then."

"I see." He sounded angry after hearing that. A moment later, he nodded, then said, "Cover your ears. If anyone else is with you, tell them to cover their ears, too."

Roan swallowed, hard, and scrambled to the end of her chain, as far away from the light of the campfire as she could manage. She called, trying to reach the others on the chain without alerting the guards, "Cover your ears! Do it now!"

The stranger nodded as she called out, then raised his bastard sword above his head and began chanting. As Roan had expected, the chant sounded an awful lot like the prayer her brother used to use when he had called upon Mystra to smite an entire room full of vermin at once with the power of sound. She covered her ears with her hands, just as she heard the stranger finish his chant with a cry of "SOUND GOLDFISH WARNING!"

The camp was suddenly filled with sound. Unlike the cacophony of random noises she knew from her brother's sound burst spells, this sounded like...a young girl, singing a song in a language she had never heard before. Whatever the song was, it was loud enough to cause the Cyricists to leak blood from their ears, and the relentless perkiness of the singer made it impossible to concentrate on anything other than shutting the song out of her head.

As the song came to a sudden end, the stranger charged, followed by a wolf, two sisters – one elven and one human – a red-haired man, and a minotaur. Now, Roan didn't know whether to freeze or flee into the darkness. Her body decided for her, her mind catching up only when she abruptly landed on the ground after reaching the end of her chain and jerking up short while fleeing.

The battle was short. The Cyricist defense was hampered by their confusion, while the invaders knew more or less exactly what they were doing. Once the Cyricists were all dead, the stranger handed a ring of keys to the human sister and said, "Here. Go unlock the slaves, OK?"

"Slaves?" she asked, looking around with a confused expression. "You mean, people really keep slaves here?"

"Only the evil ones," the stranger said, while gesturing at the dead Cyricists. "Like these people, for instance."

The human sister walked away from the stranger, with a thoughtful look on her face. Roan watched her wandering in the darkness for a moment, then called out, "Over here!" The human sister looked toward her, then approached. Her hands shook as she tried to fit the key into the lock on the shackles, until Roan placed her own hand on the stranger's. "You seem disturbed. Can I help?"

"Disturbed," the human sister laughed, a bitter tone to her voice. "You could say that. There we were, just looking for a place to make camp, when he" she waved the keys at the stranger in Kelemvor's garb "suddenly decided we were going to murder a bunch of strangers." She wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand and whimpered, "I thought I knew him. I thought...it doesn't matter." She jabbed at the lock again, finally got the key into the keyhole, and turned it. The collar parted and fell off.

"It isn't, you know," Roan said gently. How anyone could be so confused, at the stranger's apparent age, bothered her, but she knew she'd hate herself if she didn't at least try to help the woman. "Murder, I mean. They were taking us to one of their hidden temples, so they could sacrifice us to Cyric. So what you did saved our lives." She glanced around and added, softly, "Well, saved the lives of those of us who haven't died already."

"How are you doing, Lada?" the minotaur rumbled. Roan squeaked and froze in terror. He looked at her, cocked his head while sniffing the air, then laughed softly. "Don't worry, ma'am. My tribe doesn't eat humans. We protect them. That's why I'm here. My name is Ulf. I came to get Little Brother's help to defend Olostin's Hold from the armies of Neverwinter."

"From...," Roan looked from Ulf to the stranger he seemed to be referring to as "Little Brother", then back again. Things she'd heard started to fall into place in her mind. Champion of Kelemvor, willing to fight Neverwinter, wolf companion, elven woman.... "Those two...are they Lady Aribeth and Lord Fred?"

"They are," Ulf said gravely. "And this is Lady Lada, and the red-haired druid is named Angus." He inclined his head toward Lada and added, "I must search for any of them who might be hiding in the brush. Lada will take care of freeing you all."

Lady Lada bit her lip and rose to her feet, then stumbled a bit on the uneven ground. Roan quickly rose and rested a hand on her shoulder. "I could help you find the others, if you'd like."

"Thank you," Lady Lada said, while trying to rub the tear tracks from her face. Despite her efforts, they glistened in the light of the camp fire.

Roan led Lady Lada along the chain, found the person who'd been chained closest to her, and sank to her knees, while forcing herself to let out only a single sob. "Grandfather," she whispered, as she stroked the hair of the dead man in the collar. "You survived this long, only to die here." She hugged the dead man and let her grief flow in deep sobs. "It's not fair. It's not fair."

Lady Lada reached out and brushed Roan's hair back from her face, then said softly, "I'm sorry. I...let me unlock him?"

"Yes!" Roan said vehemently, raising her head to look at Lady Lada. "He didn't live to see rescue, but you can still free him."

Lady Lada found the key and unlocked Grandfather's collar, her hands still shaking as she did. Roan gently arranged his body on the ground where he had fallen, and led Lady Lada down the chain to the next, and the next after that, reassuring each as Lady Lada unlocked them. Meanwhile, in the center of the camp, Lady Aribeth and Lord Fred stripped the bodies of the Cyricists and piled them beside the fire. Roan glanced that way a couple times, then ignored them, satisfied that they were taking care of the scum that had destroyed her village and murdered those she loved.

"Welcome to my secret lair on Skullcrusher Mountain," Roan heard, being sung at the center of the camp. She looked, and Lord Fred was standing beside the Cyricist bodies, with one foot resting on the head of their leader.

"I hope that you've enjoyed your stay so far,
I see you've met my assistant, Scarface," Lord Fred sang, walking away from the bodies and patting Ulf on the back.

"He's doing it again," Lady Aribeth said to Ulf.

"I'm not Scarface," Ulf rumbled. "He's a warrior. He's back at Olostin's Hold."

"Just go with it," Lady Aribeth said, shrugging. "You know how he is."

"His appearance is quite disturbing," Lord Fred continued singing,
"But I assure you he's harmless enough,
He's a sweetheart, calls me master,"

"In your dreams, Little Brother," Ulf rumbled.

"And he has a way of finding pretty things, and bringing them to me," Lord Fred continued, as if the commentary weren't going on – or he expected it the way a bard expects heckling.
"Oh, and I'm so into you,
But I'm way too smart for you,
Even my henchmen think I'm crazy,"

"You got that right," Lady Aribeth said, laughing softly.

"I'm not surprised that you agree," Lord Fred continued singing,
"If you could find some way to be,
A little bit less afraid of me,
You'd see the voices that control me, from inside my head
Say I shouldn't kill you yet."

"Voices?" Roan asked Lady Lada softly, worriedly. "Should we be looking for a cure insanity spell for him?"

"No more than for this whole crazy world," Lady Lada answered, her voice shaking as if she were on the verge of tears.

"I made this half-pony, half-monkey monster to please you," Lord Fred continued singing,
"But I get the feeling that you don't like it,
What's with all the screaming?"

"Half-pony, half-what?" Ulf asked

"It's probably another one of his crazy Earth things," Lady Aribeth said, shrugging.

"You like monkeys, you like ponies," Lord Fred continued singing,
"Maybe you don't like monsters so much,
Maybe I used too many monkeys,
Isn't it enough to know that I ruined a pony, making a gift for you?"

"Whatever a monkey is, if it ruins a pony, I'm not sure I want it," Ulf said.

"Oh, and I’m so into you," Lord Fred continued singing,
"But I’m way too smart for you,
Even my henchmen think I’m crazy,"

"We sure do," Ulf rumbled.

"I’m not surprised that you agree," Lord Fred continued singing
"If you could find some way to be,
A little bit less afraid of me,
You’d see the voices that control me, from inside my head,
Say I shouldn’t kill you yet."

"I'm not so sure I'd want to rely on voices," Lady Aribeth said.

Lady Lada wrapped her arms around her knees and hugged them tightly, while whispering, "I can't believe he's..."

"Picture the two of us alone inside my golden submarine," Lord Fred sang, still completely unfazed by the commentary,
"While up above the waves my doomsday squad ignites the atmosphere,"

"What in the world is a submarine?" Angus asked Ulf and Lady Aribeth. They both shrugged, as if to say, "I have no idea."

"And all the fools who live their foolish lives may find it quite explosive," Lord Fred continued,
"But it won’t mean half as much to me if I don’t have you here."

"Wait...," Ulf said, looking at Lady Aribeth with his eyes wide open, as if in shock. "This is supposed to be a love song?"

"It sounds like it, doesn't it?" Lady Aribeth said. "Maybe if you were an evil genius, anyway."

"You know it isn’t easy living here on Skullcrusher Mountain," Lord Fred continued singing,
"So maybe you could cut me just a little slack,
Would it kill you to be civil?"

"If the voices don't do it first," Lady Aribeth commented.

"Or the ...monkeys?" Ulf suggested.

"I’ve been patient, I’ve been gracious," Lord Fred sang.

"Funny definition of patience," Angus said softly.

"And this mountain is covered with wolves," Lord Fred continued singing, with just a hitch as he almost let loose a snort of laughter.
Hear them howling, my hungry children"

The wolf at Fred's feet suddenly began yapping like a house dog that had been offered a slab of bacon.

"Maybe you should stay and have another drink and think about me and you," Fred continued, while scratching between the wolf's ears.
"Oh, and I’m so into you,
But I’m way too smart for you,
Even my henchmen think I’m crazy"

"Especially if you insist on singing stuff like this," Ulf said, "instead of leaving the singing to the professionals."

"Like you, dear?" Lady Aribeth asked, laughing.

"Well, I am the only bard in this party," Ulf shot back.

"I’m not surprised that you agree," Fred continued singing, after a faint snort of laughter,
"If you could find some way to be,
A little bit less afraid of me,
You’d see the voices that control me, from inside my head,
Say I shouldn’t kill you yet,
I shouldn’t kill you yet,
I shouldn’t kill you,

Yet."

Lady Lada's shaking became uncontrollable, and it took a moment before Roan realized she was shaking from laughter, not tears. She looked up and yelled at Lord Fred, "You! You....How am I supposed to stay afraid of you when you do something like that?"

"Umm...," Lord Fred said, looking for all the world like he was a lost little boy, "You're not?"

"Arg!" Lady Lada huffed. "You're...you're...you're...."

"Smart?" Lord Fred suggested. "Sexy? Incredibly irresistible?"

"Infuriating!" Lady Lada shot back.

"Looks like it worked," Ulf commented.

"Sure does," Lady Aribeth agreed. "Now we get to interrogate him until he explains it to us."

"I like that idea," Ulf rumbled, somewhere between speech and laughter.

"They're all insane," a soft voice from behind Roan said. She looked back and saw Errol, the miller's son, who hadn't been quite old enough to hold a sword when the Cyricists invaded.

"I think all adventurers get like this, sooner or later," Roan said. "I remember groups of them visiting my brother's temple who make this group look sane."

"That's scary," Errol said. "Can we just go home and not ever deal with anything like this again?"

"Home doesn't exist any more," Roan said softly. "We need to find a new home."

"Fred!" Lady Lada called, "What are we going to do now?"

"Set up camp," Lord Fred said, while shaking a wand out of one of his sleeves. "Just as soon as we dispose of the bodies."

The entire group of strangers backed away from the pile of bodies, Lord Fred pointed his wand at the pile, and a pillar of flame shot down from the sky and reduced the entire pile of bodies to ash.

"What is it with him and Flame Strikes?" Ulf asked softly.

"He discovered them when we were fighting Morag," Lady Aribeth said, shrugging. "I guess they're just familiar and comfortable."

"Is everyone here ok?" Angus asked, walking up and standing beside Lady Lada. "We have spare bedrolls and food, and if anyone is hurt or sick, we have plenty of healing."

"I'll check," Roan said, thankful for having something to do besides mourn and worry. She began speaking with the others, and gently guiding those who were old enough to speak for themselves to Angus and Lady Lada, before taking the hands of the younger children and leading them toward the fire.

Skullcrusher Mountain belongs to Jonathan Coulton, and you can find the original (and much more professional) version at http://www.jonathancoulton.com

Aribeth belongs to Bioware

Everything else is mine! All mine! BWA-hahahahahah!

They laughed at me at the Academy! But I'll show them! I'll show them all!