Elbolin tells the elf, whose name is Erras, that they are going to Waterdeep, and if he'd like to come along, they can escort him, as long as he is willing to wear a rope and remain tied up, to maintain the ruse that he is one of their own stock.

"I wouldn't mind," says Erras. "But some people consider my hide and horns of great value. Are you sure that you are strong enough to protect me?"

"Well there are 8 of us, and we are seasoned adventurers. We've fought some pretty tough monsters, I can tell you that. I don't think you need to worry," says Elbolin.

So Erras comes out of the ruined castle and again turns into a golden stag. Elbolin puts a rope around his neck and leads him back to the road. Unfortunately, when they return, the cart is gone. Only Elfo and Gourbain are near the road, resting against a tree.

Elfo explains that a few minutes after they left, Noohar had decided that he was tired of his guards getting in fights and going on adventures, and announced his frustration by saying that he was going to continue north, and anyone who doesn't come with him can look for a new job. Bilbo and Barry decided to continue with him, and Elfo and Gourbain decided to stay and wait for the others. Noohar offers Barry the job of bodyguard, and invites him to sit up on the front of the cart.

Only an hour or so away, the cart passes through a town, where Noohar stops at an inn and hires four more guards. These guys look cleaner and smoother than our adventurers, with very shiny swords and helmets and leather armor, and they speak in a slightly exaggerated form of gallantry. Noohar offers Bilbo the job of sergeant, to keep the new guards in line.

Hooflepoof, Elbolin, Karat, Bilbo, Elfo, Gourbain, and Nars, now with Erras, keep up a good pace, and by late afternoon they catch up to Noohar's cart, which is still a little behind the rest of the caravan. At a watering stop, Hooflepoof approaches Noohar.

"I see that I've been replaced," Hooflepoof says. "Can I have the money I was promised?"

"I was promised a bodyguard," says Noohar. "And how many times was I left without any protection?"

"I hope you recognize that I did my best."

"Well if that is your best, you are just not cut out to be a bodyguard."

"You owe me my wage."

"I don't think so."

Hooflepoof draws his rapier.

"So, now you show some fighting spirit," says Noohar.

"There was nothing to fight on the caravan!" says Hooflepoof. "If there was, maybe I wouldn't be always looking for something to do!"

"If there was something to fight, you'd probably be missing!" says Noohar.

It goes on like this for a few minutes, until Noohar reluctantly agrees to give Hooflepoof half his wages.

They continue northward on the Trade Way, with the larger group of adventurers following far enough behind the cart as not to appear to be with them. They travel an hour or so past dark, until they start to see the fires of the other camps in the caravan, and then they stop and set camp. Noohar hands over a couple of the tents and other supplies to the wayward group, in a way that is neither friendly nor grumpy, just matter-of-fact.

Barry and Bilbo have to share a tent with their fresh-faced new guards. The other group sets a watch at night to keep an eye on the stag.

In the morning, the two groups remain separated for breakfast. As they are slurping down their morning porridge by the fire, the independent group is approached by the female gnome who joined the caravan just recently, traveling by herself. "I neglected to plan for proper breakfasting," she says, "could I buy a bowl of your oatmeal?"

The adventurers insist that she can be their breakfast guest without charge, and serve her up a bowl of oatmeal. She starts to eat, then suddenly stops, spits, and starts digging in her bowl with her dagger. She pulls out an oatmeal-smeared object that looks like a flat disk, about the size of a pea. "It's a sliver of bone," she says quietly, looking over her shoulder suspiciously toward the nearest caravan camp. "Curled into a circle so you can swallow it in a mouthful of gruel without noticing. Once eaten, it slowly uncurls inside you, exposing needle points that pierce your guts and kill you slowly. I suspect you all have them in your breakfasts."

While everyone looks suspiciously at their oatmeal, she finishes hers and sets down the bowl. "Thank you for the breakfast" she says. "Let's talk this evening."