Birds chasing each other echoed in the woods, and a tall figure stepped forward with heavy and vigilant steps, stepping on the dead branches and fallen leaves on the ground.

"Who!"

Thorne, who was hidden among the dense branches and leaves, snorted coldly, and quickly and forcefully pulled the composite longbow in his hand, and a sharp arrow jumping with magical energy was ready to point out to the uninvited guest who appeared in his sight.

The intruder instinctively drew a two-handed greatsword from behind. The sunlight danced and fluctuated on the dark metal. The blade was sharper than any razor.

"Don't be impulsive, friend, I'm a passerby."

A dragonborn warrior in dark black armor sensed the deadly danger hidden in the forest, and the fine scales covering his face twisted in fear. He tried his best to stabilize his restless heart and explained slowly.

After the dragonborn warrior finished speaking, he inserted his two-handed giant sword on the ground within easy reach, and slowly raised his hands.

"It's almost, the ghost knows who your friend is!" The bard Geert walked out of the hidden tree and said viciously: "Little lizard, come closer, let's take a closer look."

Hearing being called the 'little lizard', a nameless anger rose in the dragonborn warrior's heart.

However, in the end, he was forced to endure it.

He glanced in the other direction subconsciously, approaching the poet.

"Clap!"

Seeing the dragonborn warrior's every move, Thorne, who was hiding in the dark, felt relieved, then put away the bow and arrow in his hand, and jumped down from the branch.

"Where did you come from?" Thorne looked at the tensed dragonborn warrior with scrutiny.

"Northern Wasteland, Your Excellency." The dragonborn warrior looked at each other in surprise and answered truthfully, "The weather is hot, and I plan to rest here."

"Then do whatever you want." Thorne thought for a while, looked at the dragonborn in front of him, and said slowly: "Don't be nervous, the two of us are also passing passengers, not what you think, please do."

"I see, thank you for your generosity." The dragonborn warrior sighed in relief, beating his chest and bowing slightly to Thorne to express his gratitude.

He originally thought that the two were militiamen from the small village across the river, but he didn't expect that the other party was the same as him, and he didn't seem to be malicious, which made him feel more relieved.

After all, dragonborn are not a popular race on the mainland.

After the dragonborn warrior finished speaking, he picked up the two-handed giant sword stuck on the ground, put his back behind him again, and walked out of the woods.

"Let's go?" Thorne stared at the disappearing figure of the Dragonborn, and turned to Gilt beside him.

Although the dragonborn player from the Northland Wasteland successfully aroused his curiosity, he did not want to have too many entanglements with the other party.

The poet nodded, agreeing to the ranger's proposal.

A large group of terrifying dragonborn races suddenly appeared in a grove. Anyone with a discerning eye would know that it was abnormal. Naturally, they did not want to be involved in an inexplicable conflict.

The two were about to leave, and among the group of people approaching, the dragonborn, headed by them, made a familiar shout, causing Thorne to stop and look over.

"Unless my eyes deceive myself," exclaimed a dragonborn in heavily worn silver-white armor, "otherwise you must be Thorne of the Falls, a half-elf ranger. Not one Someone who looks a lot like him."

"Dragonborn paladin, Peo Joses?" Thorne smiled in surprise, looked at the paladin walking over, and joked: "It is indeed a living dragonborn paladin, not even a single scale. ."

Hearing the conversation between the two, the dragonborn present obviously relaxed, and Thorne even heard many people breathe a sigh of relief.

The paladin walked towards the ranger, his armor crunching. He originally wanted to give him a warm hug, but when he thought that the two of them didn't fit well, he took off a black and white iron gauntlet and gave Thorne a hug. Reach out, as hard as iron pliers.

Sensing the force coming from his palm, Thorne smiled nonchalantly, exerted a little force, and then took the initiative to let go after seeing the other's shocked expression.

At this time, the paladin standing in front of him could tell from the tone of his speech that he had indeed grown a lot compared to his naive personality three years ago.

The only uncertainty is whether the opponent's strength has reached the hero level.

Then, he couldn't help recalling the Nolan who became the Holy Avenger in his mind.

It's a pity that in the past three years, he has never heard any news about her.

"Hello, Mr. Thorne, it's a pleasure to meet you." Paladin Peo smiled - but in the eyes of Rangers and Poets, it looked more like an indifferent dragon face.

Obviously, the facial expressions of the dragonborn are the most difficult to read.

"You guys, come here quickly." Paladin Peo waved to a few dragonborn warriors behind him, pointing at Thorne and introducing:

"The one standing in front of you is the tower owner of the Emerald Tower. It is with his help that I can find the lost holy city of the Dragonborn: Jinbatur City."

Hearing the words, these few dragonborn cast their astonished eyes to the seemingly approachable half-elf ranger, greeted him enthusiastically, and introduced themselves.

"If I'm not wrong." Thorne and the calloused dragon claws stretched out by the dragonborn with different scales and colors, shook one by one, and said with a smile: "You guys Too……"

"That's right!" Paladin Peo showed a hearty smile: "Mr. Thorne's eyes are as sharp as knives, and he can easily see through their true identities.

These five are our compatriots. There were originally six, but one settled down in Silvermoon City and retired. Don't underestimate them. These five people can eat half a cow and drink up a large barrel of wine. I can't support them anymore. "

"Bras, settle our clan, let them rest, eat something to replenish their strength." The paladin greeted a dragonborn with brass scales beside him:

"Remember, don't fight with the villagers on the other side of the river. I want to catch up with my old friend."

Afterwards, Thorne and Gilt followed the paladin Peo to a relatively quiet woods.

The three sat on the stone, using a wooden stake as a table, and Peo took out a leather pitcher and a large bag of smoked trout and placed it on it, chatting.

During this period, Peo also left, because the original residents on the other side of the river saw more than a hundred terrifying dragonborn, and were so frightened that they packed up and prepared to escape.

The paladin could only rush over. After he was hard-pressed with two hoes and a weak arrow, he finally proved that he was the paladin of the **** of justice and had no ill will towards them. Only then did he successfully appease them. Panicked civilians.

"You are the most famous bard on the Corina Peninsula, Master Gilt?" After the paladin Peo heard Thorne's introduction, he stared at him with a slightly excited expression.

To Thorne, this was no well-intentioned excitement.

"That's right!" Gilt, who didn't notice that something was wrong, nodded proudly.

He licked the remaining trout meat on his hands, stretched out his hand to straighten the pheasant feathers on the dome hat, and said very stinky: "Even you have heard of me. However, this is not surprising, after all, my reputation is originally It's huge."

"Of course." Paladin Peo grabbed the jug from the poet and took a gulp, bluntly said:

"A poet who serves the arts, a shining star in the field of folk and love songs. Although I don't know much about poetry, there are really not many poets who can go from moving lyric to obscene so smoothly, at least I I've only seen you."

"Great and extraordinary art can create beautiful and extraordinary things, how boring the world would be without art. How can these esoteric theories be able to be understood by a Tiehanhan paladin who has no artistic cell? "The bard heard the words, dropped the fishbone in his hand, and retorted without showing weakness.

"But that 'Myth of Sadness' you wrote at the 'Drunken of the Rose' Hotel in Twin Towers is a naked insult to the paladin." Paladin Peo put down the jug heavily, becoming familiar to Thorne before. With a serious expression, he said to the poet:

"The paladins are trustworthy, they are brave and loyal, and even a considerable number of paladins will never marry for life, nor will they be seduced by women.

It's the paladin in your poem that just escorts a king's concubine back home and falls straight in love...it's absolutely impossible. "

Speaking of the excitement, the paladin Peo stood up straight, his armor creaked.

He stared at Gilt with a pair of dragon eyes, and even his voice involuntarily raised a bit:

"Now, I, the paladin of the **** of justice, Paeo Joses, asks you, a poet who serves art, Master Gilt, to return immediately to the 'Drunken of the Rose' hotel in the town of Twin Towers, and put the song 'Sorrowful' The myth of 'to be completely removed and never allowed to be sung."

"..."

Gilt, holding the jug, looked up at the paladin dumbfounded.

He found Thorne next to him eating his grilled fish leisurely, frowning and complaining that the trout was too salty.

So the poet became more courageous, he coughed a few times on purpose, cleared his throat, and retorted with a smile:

"Young man, you're still too young, how can you be so sure that something you haven't seen will never happen? In our town of Stallman in the Emerald Wilderness, there has been a multiverse miracle like a succubus paladin, paladin. Falling in love with a cow like a king and a princess.... What is this?

In fact, many poems are adapted from real stories, but the real stories are too sad, so I deliberately modified a lot of content to make it more acceptable.

Moreover, the paladin ended up successfully protecting his unwavering love and faith with his own sacrifice, and he did not fall because of it. Isn't this kind of ending?

You have to understand that it is precisely because the ballads I wrote are publicized for you paladins that your glorious and righteous image will become known to the world, and will make the world love you more.

The ruler of the Hescan Kingdom is very righteous. He clearly understands that the ballads we create are not only music and melodies, but also world chronicles, which can make people more easily remember the beautiful side of world history. .

Don't you want to appear in this chronicle, my righteous paladin friend? It's okay, I can help you. "

After Gilt finished speaking, he winked at the paladin Peo with a smirk.

"No matter how eloquent you are, it is an indisputable fact that your ballad has influenced the minds of the world." Paladin Peo ignored the poet's expression:

"In Sept City now, many ladies are proud to seduce paladins after hearing your songs. They blindly believe that seducing paladins on the bed is the most attractive thing about them. Good proof."

"Oh? Are you affected too? Your paladin," the bard Gilt said with a blatant smile.

And looked at Peo with interest, scrutinizing his lizard-like head, short beak, thick eyebrows, and crown composed of horn-like tiny scales.

The meaning expressed by his small pale green eyes seems to be saying: No lady would really like a dragonborn paladin, would it? No way? No way?

The paladin's silence seems to be validating the poet's guess.

"Aha! It's okay, my friend." Gilt's eyes flickered and he said with a smile: "After you reminded me like this, I thought of another song about paladins.

The ballad tells of a depraved lady who does everything she can to seduce a paladin into her bed, even **** on a rock or on a hedgehog. However, our glorious and righteous paladins..."

"Okay, stop." Thorne tapped Gilt's shoulder with the water bag in his hand, forcibly stopping his endless inspiration.

Taking the opportunity to shift to the topic that he cares most about, he looked up at the paladin and asked, "Where are you taking so many people to go?"

"To tell you the truth, the Northland wasteland is too chaotic now." Paladin Peo gave Gilt a fierce look, then sat on the stone again, looking northward and said:

"Since the battle of conferring gods three years ago led to the robbing of the clergy of the gods of the gods, the gods who could compete with the orcs in the northern wasteland have been directly suppressed, and the delicate balance of the northern land has been broken."

"You mean that the northern wasteland has become the dominance of the orc family." Thorne took a sip of water and confirmed to the paladin.

The orc **** Gruush and the goblin **** Magrubiya are mortal enemies, and their clansmen are naturally mortal enemies.

In fact, the news that Peo said, he is also very clear in his heart.

After all, there are many players and original residents from the Northland Wasteland in Pushang Town, and you can get a general idea of ​​the situation there by just inquiring about it.

If you want to know more, you can only inquire from those who have just returned from the Northland.

"Although it's not that exaggerated, but from the perspective of the situation, it should be a matter of sooner or later." The paladin thought for a moment while frowning the fine scales on his forehead:

"After all, those loose alliances of natives in the Northland not only have to face the threat of orcs, but also defend against internal hostile forces and cultists. It is impossible to fight against the enemy in unison."

After Peo finished speaking, he was silent for a while, and then continued: "So, I took these tribesmen all the way through mountains and waters, crossed the Neverwinter Sea by boat, and came to Corina Peninsula, just to find a place to live in the emerald field."

"It's no problem." Thorne heard the words, put away the water bag, stretched out his right hand to him, and said cheerfully: "I represent everyone in Waterfall Town, and you are welcome to join."

"Thank you Mr. Thorne for your stay." Paladin Peo solemnly shook Thorne's hand, got up and bowed deeply to him.

"Then after you settle these clansmen, do you still want to go to the Northland Wasteland?" Thorne continued to ask.

"That's right, I have another very important thing. I have to go to the extreme cold place in the northernmost part of the wasteland." The paladin said truthfully.

"Is it about the death knight?" Thorne guessed subconsciously.

The two separated from the town of Twin Towers. The other party threatened to purify the death knight who was taken away by Winster, and give his soul a chance to redeem himself.

What he didn't expect was that this matter had always been on his mind and became one of his obsessions.

This is not good news.

As a paladin, the most afraid of encountering is obsession.

Especially the young paladins, who can easily fall for it.

"Obstinence" is a very elegant word: earnestness, persistence, truthfulness, reckoning with the truth, and digging into the horns. In terms of behavioral pathology, it is called obsessive-compulsive disorder. It is a person's attitude towards doing things, and it is a person's philosophy of doing things. From this level, there is no problem.

But for the most iron-clad paladin, this kind of unshakable idea generated by perseverance will turn into a fallen paladin due to the slightest inadvertent injury to the heart.

Similarly, if he really fulfills this obsession, the level of the paladin will be greatly improved.

In short, this is a double-edged sword.

But Thorne is not optimistic about him. After all, the death knight who was taken away by Winster, the astral insight, may not be as simple as he imagined.

Moreover, the other party seems to place great importance on the death knight, so how could he purify him in vain.

When Gilt heard Thorne mention the death knight, he also leaned over curiously and asked, "Is it the leader of the Terror Knights who appeared in the town of Dawn?"

Thorne nodded at the same time as the paladin, and cast a surprised look at the poet.

"I am a poet, and my greatest hobby is to collect stories. In the love story between the elf and the witch, the shadow of this death knight also appeared." Gilt patted the harp in his arms and said with a smile.

"Why not." Thorne didn't bother to pay attention to Gilt's stinky expression, looked at the paladin, and explained his intention:

"I'm going to Deep Rock City first. When you settle down these clansmen, wait for me in Sept City. I want you to take me to the Temple of Tyre, and ask them to do something for me. At that time, Let's go to the Northland together, what do you think?"

"No problem!" Paladin Peo responded without hesitation.

Then Thorne and the paladin exchanged the meeting place and token, and set off towards the town of Twin Towers with the bard.

All the way to peace, until the dusk of the sunset completely disappeared to the Wild Skull Mountains, and the two finally came to the town of Twin Towers.

"Okay, we're parting here, I still have my own business to do, so I won't cause you any trouble." On the street, the bard Geert explained to Thorne, humming an obscene little song Erli. go.

Thorne frowned and stared at the silhouette of the other party's departure, and he found that Gilt seemed to be walking in the direction of 'The Drunken Rose'.

However, when he saw a few sneaky figures, he immediately hid in the crowd and followed silently.