The sun was full in the sky by the time the companions collected their gear and said their parting words to the old wizard. The warmth of the sun and the clear blue sky lifted the oppressive feeling of the previous days' storm from the air. They all welcomed the change in weather. Traveling through the snow was one thing, traveling under the specter of a blizzard was quite another.

Deepwood. The name spoke of dark and untold danger. While the edges of the forest provided ample wood for the region's hearths and a bounty of wild game for the hunter, its farther reaches were seen only by the adventurous few. Most travelers gladly accepted the extra days needed to skirt the forest to the north or south. Those for whom time was more pressing recognized the risk as a necessary one. Many did survive their journey through the woods and they bore the scars to prove it. Trolls and brigands were the forest's only true residents.

Vadania took her position at the front of the group. The half-orcs fell in a few steps behind her. Krusk abandoned his large traveling backpack for a smaller shoulder pack. He kept his greataxe slung to his hip, within easy reach. Malthooz still carried his full regimen of books.

Lidda padded along a few dozen yards behind the main group, keeping watch over their backs to ensure they were not taken unawares from behind. Though each of the company kept his weapons within easy reach, if Malthooz's walking staff could be considered such, Lidda's drawn and loaded crossbow was the only one at the ready.

As morning wore into midday, the forest closed in, over, and around them. Arched branches formed a kind of tunnel above the path they traveled, keeping out all but a few rays of sunshine. Thick underbrush crowded the trunks of the trees, which became larger the farther they pressed into the forest.

Lidda watched Malthooz and Krusk exchange a few words. She couldn't hear what they said, but Krusk's tone was enough to let her know that the words weren't pleasant. She moved past the elves and tapped Krusk on the shoulder.

"Why don't you take rear guard for a while?"

Krusk started to protest, but Lidda's look stopped him. He mumbled under his breath and fell to the rear of the group.

"I don't know what his problem is," she said to Malthooz, shaking her head, "but it's not you. He's usually like this."

"He thinks I should never have come looking for him," Malthooz said, "and I suspect he's right."

"No one ever accused him of not being stubborn," Lidda chuckled. "Maybe you should lay off him for a while."

They came upon a clearing late in the day and where they decided to pass the night. Malthooz dropped his pack, sat down on a tangle of roots, and began tugging a boot from his foot. By the time he had the second one off, the others were busy preparing a camp.

From his seat at the edge of the camp, he watched the company performing like a well-scripted play. Vadania left to hunt for game while Mialee and Lidda gathered wood for a fire. Krusk huddled over a pile of dry moss, flicking sparks from his flint and steel. Malthooz flexed his aching toes self-consciously.

He pulled his boots back on.

"What can I do?" he asked.

Mialee dropped an armful of wood into a growing pile.

"There're game paths all over these woods," she said, tossing a water skin to the half-orc. "There must be a stream or pool around somewhere nearby."

Malthooz nearly fell into the pool before he realized it was there. He'd been wandering, lost in his thoughts. He had no idea how far he'd come from the camp, though the fading light and deepening shadows told him it had been some time. He knelt at the edge of the pond and plunged the empty skin into the water.

As bubbles from the water skin roiled the still, warm water, Malthooz glanced around, paying attention to his surroundings for the first time since leaving the camp. A wall of rock bordered the pool on the far side. A fissure near the center looked like the opening to a cave. The snows, so deep near the city, hadn't fallen as heavily that far into the forest. Only a smattering of white patches showed on the carpet of pine needles. Still, the air was cold, and getting colder as the light faded.

But the water in the pond felt warm, Malthooz realized with a jolt, when it should be icy cold.

A gurgling screech from inside the wall nearly made Malthooz lose his grip on the water skin. A spray of steam followed the shriek. Seconds later, the strangest creature Malthooz had ever seen flew from the mouth of the cave. It was small, just a few feet tall, he estimated, skinny as a rail, and covered in glistening scales.

The creature tumbled through the air and hit the water in front of Malthooz with a tremendous splash. The half-orc scrambled back from the water's edge, leaving the water skin bobbing in the pond. His foot caught on an exposed root and he flopped clumsily onto his back.

The creature's eyes emerged from the pool—huge, black orbs dripping water. Translucent eyelids blinked away some of the moisture. A frail hand snaked out and tossed the water skin at Malthooz's feet. The arm was covered with folds of blue-green skin that looked like seaweed. Water oozed from the creature's scales.

"This isn't mine, so it must be yours," it said with a burbling voice like gushing water. "Keep your trash out of my pond. Now I've got to defend my home."

With that, it disappeared beneath the water. Malthooz watched the creature's shadowy form swim rapidly back into the cave.

Within moments, a thick, black stink floated from the cave mouth, assailing Malthooz's nostrils and causing him to wretch. A second creature, even more bizarre than the first, drifted from the cave enveloped in a cloud of steam. It landed with a soft plop on the bank of the pool next to the half-orc.

The cloud of vapor rising from the creature obscured its body. Steaming water dripped from its fingers and Malthooz felt heat radiating from it. Its face was dour, a mood accented by the creature's sharp, angular features. It spoke to Malthooz with a voice of vapor that was as easy to see as it was to hear, like the sound of a freshly forged blade being plunged into an ice bath for tempering.

"You'd best leave now," it said. The heat of the creature's words caused Malthooz to take a step back. "This issue is not your concern."

The half-orc nodded, unable to speak.

"Leave now!" the creature emphasized. The air temperature around it rose noticeably and steam percolated from its pores. It raised a wispy arm as if to strike. "This is my pond and you are not welcome!"

Further speech was cut short by a loud, squishing sound. The creature and its vapor cloud reeled back as a colorful blob of ichor slammed into the side of its head.

Steam poured in a torrent from the creature's nostrils and ears as it turned to face the fish-eyed creature whose head bobbed up and down near the center of the pool. Raising its smoking arms toward the sky, the steam-thing conjured a small cloud of wisps that transformed into a hail of boiling rain. Malthooz scrabbled across the frozen dirt to get away. Sharp points of pain pierced his back as droplets of superheated water pelted him. He howled as the water raised welts along his forearms and the backs of his legs. He tried covering himself with leaves and dirt but could not stop the searing rain.

As suddenly as it began, the torrent stopped. The creature was spent and wheezing, its breath a raspy gurgle of mist.

The fish-eyed creature, apparently unharmed, ducked beneath the surface of the pool.

Vadania was having little luck with her hunt. She knew the forest was full of smaller creatures of all sorts—she saw signs of them all around—but she was unable to locate any. Perhaps something kept them away. She turned back toward camp, resigning herself to a meal of dried rations, when she heard Malthooz's howl.

She found the pool quickly enough. Drawing her scimitar, Vadania stepped into the clearing around the pool and assessed the situation. The half-orc was on the ground near the edge of the pool. A creature—a steam mephit—stood near the fallen half-orc. Another, a water mephit, floated near the center of the pond.

The druid extended her free hand toward the steam mephit. Bright yellow-blue flame sprang forth from her upturned palm. The fire crackled with magical intensity as she advanced on the mephit, startling the creature as it caught sight of her in the corner of its eye. Scalding water dripped from the creature's jowls as it backed away from the approaching druid. The steam mephit sprayed torrid mist as it inched away from the advancing elf.

"No haste, elf, it is a misunderstanding," the mephit said as it raised its arms in surrender.

Vadania halted as another ball of ichor smacked the steam mephit in the back of the head. Malthooz grabbed his staff and was on his feet in an instant. He swung the pole in a wide arc that caught the creature in the midsection, doubling it over. Vadania snapped her wrist, sending the flame from her hand to the creature. It hit the mephit's head with a hiss.

The mephit enveloped itself in a cloud of steam and bolted for the pool. The water mephit's laughter sent a ring of waves throughout the pond before it ducked under the surface and disappeared.

Vadania rushed to Malthooz's side, catching him as the pain of his burns overtook him and he crumpled to his knees.

A trail of fog drifted from the surface of the water, marking the steam mephit's retreat.

Vadania helped Malthooz to his feet.

"We need to move," she said. "This is no place to linger."

They started back to camp, Malthooz supporting himself on the druid's shoulder, and the noise of the quarreling mephits was soon lost in the distance.

It was replaced by another, more ominous sound.