Dragons are only in stories to scare children, as they haven't been seen in over a millennia if ever, according to common knowledge.
Over three hundred years ago, what was known as the Age of Might came to an end when the Kingpriest of Istar stood against the gods, believing himself more important than the gods themselves and he made demands of the gods themselves, as if they were his servant. The Kingpriest made it so that his view of the world was the law – and in an effort to show this, had created an environment where things he deemed “evil” were hunted down and killed. The gods were furious at the behavior of the Kingpriest, and those who blindly followed his commands.
In an effort to warn the people, the gods delivered thirteen warning signs – such as a storm, like no other, battering the city of Istar. Other omens such as observing trees that wept blood were also reported.
When the gods turned to a Solamnic Knight by the name of Lord Soth and urged him to rush to Istar and speak with the Kingpriest, Lord Soth failed in arriving to Istar. It’s unclear why he had failed this mission given to him by the gods.
Finally, the gods cast a mountain down on the nation Istar, destroying it and sundering the entire face of Ansalon forever. The day the mountain fell from the sky is known as the Cataclysm. When it struck Istar, it not only destroyed it, it created something known as the Blood Sea of Istar in its place; a violent maelstrom formed there which constantly stirred up the soil making the waters appear to be red (which is how it got its name), though the legends speak that the blood sea is the blood of the thousands who died in Istar, believing in the Kingpriest until the very end. An odd occurrence about the Blood Sea is that the currents move clockwise, while the winds around the Blood Sea are counterclockwise.
The Maelstrom constantly stirred up the soil causing the water to look red which is how the sea got its name. Though the legend on Krynn was that the color was really caused by the blood of all those who died in Istar. During this time the currents moved clockwise while the winds moved counterclockwise.
Shortly after the Cataclysm, the Knights were also blamed and many of them were hunted and killed, their families driven out of their own lands. The once powerful force of the Knights of Solamnia are now fractured and sundered. Small groups of Knights exist here and there, but many no longer claim the honor. The few that do, hope to make a difference and restore the honor of the Knights.
This also brought an end to the Age of Might, a time when civilization was at its peak. For over the next three hundred years, disease and famine spread across the land. In this time, the gods themselves have even become things of legends. Even the Wizards of High Sorcery often went into hiding as the people of Ansalon mistrusted them.
With the gods seemingly gone, divine healing is wholly absent from the world. A group known as the Seekers has sprouted up, claiming to have discovered new gods that will take care of the world, though they are only truly interested in seeking economic and political power with no actual gods behind them...
Hazel Moonseeker straightened out her blue and white dress, then took a moment to look around the inn. The Frost Maiden Inn had been given to her by the current owner, Marek Soulshield. Marek fell out of favor when he was called by the Knights; but he'd learned that a minotaur he'd been traveling with named Bloodhorn was in danger; he'd gone to his friend's side rather than the Knights. After his fall from the Knights, Marek returned home to Winterholm where he was born and had spent most of his years growing up. Marek had never married; he never cared to have a family. However, Marek often spoke of 'the perfect woman' - and described her as red hair, to keep the fire burning; eyes as blue as ice to contrast the fire hair; and lips, and breasts, filled to perfection, like a good ale.
It'd been that notion - that vision of a woman, which inspired Marek to open the Frost Maiden Inn. The Inn was immediately a success; the people of Winterholm found a place to gather, discuss their crops, trades, tricks and tips about food and trading. Traders coming to and from the port city of Hargoth, through Winterholm (usually on their way to Palanthas, to the north) now had an established inn to take shelter in.
When Hazel came into the Frost Maiden Inn, seeking shelter, Marek was stunned. She was far too young for him - but the wooden sign that hung above the Frost Maiden Inn - was a wooden sign above the door of a woman with exaggerated breasts, with a mug on resting on each breast, while she also clasps a mug in each hand. Her wooden smile was faded, having been created many years ago, but never taken care of after its placement. Her faded blue and white dress – a symbol of the snow and ice – has been worn down by the weather as well. Her fiery red hair, however, still looks as if it were painted yesterday, a symbol of the warmth you will find inside... was an uncanny match to Hazel, save only Hazel's eyes were green rather than blue (having been named after the sharp color of her eyes by her mother).
Marek would learn that Hazel had been captured by Seekers, who follow a god named 'Cridheolc' and they were extremely violent and extreme. Marek promised her, as a former Knight, that he would protect her and she was free to work at his inn and have a free room for as long as she wanted. It did not take long for Hazel to feel like Marek's own daughter that he never had and the two became very close. As Marek grew older, he could not keep up at the front like he used to, and gave the Inn to Hazel, while he remained in the back as the cook (something he'd always loved to do).
Hazel was moving about the Inn, organizing things, tilting paintings, moving silverware, the same thing she'd always done, each and every day before opening. Hazel's lips form a smile as her green eyes fall on Tegaru Bullabop, a gully dwarf that Marek had employed. Tegaru wore a blue and white outfit as well, and Hazel made several outfits for Tegaru, so that she could wash them daily. Tegaru would go about the inn, collecting the dishes to take back to the sink in the back; but she would also eat any scraps of food or drink any drinks left behind. While most might find this habit disgusting, it was something Marek admired about Tegaru; he would much rather see that the food be eaten than be wasted, especially during these difficult times. Marek had even made a home for Tegaru, located in the back kitchen, where the gully dwarf could sleep when the Inn closed for the night.
The majority of the patrons who came into the Frost Maiden Inn, were the same people day in, day out; the citizens of Winterholm, who were farmers by trade. Occasionally, travelers headed for the magnificent city of Palanthas would stop and reserve a room in the Frost Maiden Inn. So, when Hazel opened the doors and several of the locals, which she expected to see, stumbled into the inn, taking their places at their usual tables, she was startled to see a half-elf, which she did not recognize, pause and wait for the locals to sit before taking a seat himself alone at a vacant table. Hazel knew the locals could wait, so she made her way to the half-elf first, "My name's Hazel," she said with a pleasant smile.
The half-elf looked up, "Hello," he said, "my name is Tycus Dragonstone."
Hazel, not seeing any other traders, assumed that the half-elf had not been traveling with other traders who may have come in from the port city of Hargoth, to the west. "Just passing through?" she asked.
"I am," he replied with some hesitation.
"Well, you've stopped at the right place," she smiled. "Marek, in the back, cooks food that will warm you up and warm you soul."
Hazel did not hear the door to the Inn open; which was unusual, as the hinges were rusted and typically creaked. Marek had offered to fix them multiple times, but Hazel always argued, it was the best way to know when someone comes in. So when a female elf had somehow come into the Inn, making no sound, strode across the room and found another vacant table, all without being heard, it unnerved Hazel. Hazel looked to the half-elf and said, "Let me get you a menu, and I will be right back."
She made her way across to the newly arrived female elf, who kept her features hidden deep in her cloak. "Is there anything I can get you?" Hazel asked, with her all too familiar welcoming smile.
The female elf whispered, "A mead for now."
Hazel nodded and made her way to the bar, where she picked up some menus and placed it on the table where the half-elf, Tycus had seated himself, then dropped the mead off at the table with the female elf. When the next patron came in, the doors creaked as expected, and a voice called out to Hazel that she recognized. She turned and smirked at the human who stood in the doorway. "Ronlyn Drahcir Daero, go sit down somewhere and I will be right with you."
She'd recognized Ronlyn Drahcir Daero, as he frequented the Frost Maiden Inn. Ronlyn Drahcir Daero had been a soldier, though he had established a reputation for getting into trouble. It'd been Ronlyn Drahcir Daero's friend, another human and a Knight of Solamnia, named Kraun Crowfeather, who would always have to stand up for Ronlyn Drahcir Daero and get him in trouble, which often led to Kraun being scolded by the Knights for associating with Ronlyn Drahcir Daero. Ronlyn had eventually found service as a soldier for the people of Palanthas, fighting against invasive goblins that seemed to be increasing in number in the area. When Ronlyn Drahcir Daero had enough steel (or, some believed he was either running from trouble again or had gotten bored of being a soldier), he spent most of his time in Winterholm, not far from where he'd grown up.
Ronlyn Drahcir Daero found a seat and when Hazel approached, he gestured to the mysterious female elf. "What's her story?" he whispered, gesturing with a nod of his head.
"I'm not sure," she turned to look at the female elf who sipped her mead. "By her accent, I believe she's Qualinesti."
"Qualinesti? As in Qualinesti elf?" Ronlyn Drahcir Daero nearly blurted the words. The Qualinesti, once the most receptive of the elves, had closed off their woods after some undisclosed event proved to be a threat to them, and vowed to shoot anyone who wasn't Qualinesti that dared try and enter their woods.
The door to the Frost Maiden Inn creaked open again, and before Hazel could turn, she heard the distinct voice of a Kender shout, "Hello everyone! My name is Tarli Featherfoot! And boy, do I have some fantastic stories to tell you! You see, there was this one time," but the Kender's voice was suddenly muffled. When Hazel turned she nearly dropped the drink on Ronlyn Drahcir Daero's lap. She'd heard of Minotaurs, certainly - but she'd never seen one before. Standing in her doorway, muzzling the Kender, was a towering figure of a Minotaur. Beside the Minotaur was a human. The Minotaur's booming voice announced, "My name is Feroz Irontide," he began - and at the name Irontide the patrons of the Inn were all shaken. Irontide was the name of a famous Minotaur pirate! "I am seeking out to find a group of Seekers known as the Cridheolc and put an end to them."
At the all too familiar name of 'Cridheolc' - Hazel now lost her grip on the ale and spilled onto Ronlyn Drahcir Daero's lap, who jumped to his feet. The Minotaur's gaze landed on Ronlyn Drahcir Daero like a powerful mace being struck against Ronlyn Drahcir Daero's head. "Do you volunteer to come with us, human?"
Ronlyn Drahcir Daero looked down at his ale soaked groin and back at the Minotaur. "Is there Steel involved?"
"You can have some of the steel off every corpse that follows Cridheolc," the Minotaur stated matter-of-factly.
Ronlyn Drahcir Daero shrugged. "Well, that sounds promising enough. Count me in."
"And I," came the female elf's voice who had been sipping her ale. She pulled her hood back, revealing her elven features. "My name is Breara Quilphestrie, and I have good reason to see the zealots of Cridheolc put to an end."
The half-elf, Tycus Dragonstone, stood. "I have no interest in fighting these Cridheolc - but I do have need of company to travel across Ansalon. I am collecting rock fragments from the -"
Feroz growled. "We will not carry you or protect you. Can you fight?"
Taken aback by the Minotaur, Tycus cleared his throat. "Yes. I can."
"That's all I need to know," the Minotaur growled. "I don't need to know about your hobbies, unless it includes killing followers of Cridheolc."
The human next to the Minotaur introduced himself as Tharrom, giving no last name, perhaps because he was hiding his past or came from a region that had no surnames.
They drew several tables together, centered around where Breara had sat; several of the locals, all too happy to leave their chairs and tables for this newly arrived group, and deciding now was just as good as any time to get back to work. Hazel approached them and smiled. "Is there anything I can get for all of you?" Hazel hid the fact that her heart raced at the notion that this group was going after the very same people who had abducted her. As the group spoke, she took their orders, her hand showing no signs of trembling, her writing as beautiful as it'd ever been - but she could not help but wonder how it was that this group was now here going after the group she'd spent years running away from, until she had come here.
When she returned, placing drinks and food around the table, she said, "Most of you aren't locals," her eyes falling on Ronlyn Drahcir Daero for a brief moment, as the exception, "and you're definitely not farmers or traders. And," she finally adds, setting down the last food and drink on the table, "if you mean to seek the seekers, you must be the adventuring type." She then leans into the center of the table and whispers, "Listen, I know you have your mission to go find these Seekers... but you're the first sign of anyone who can help..."
"Help, with what?" the Minotaur asked as he wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve, after consuming his ale in one swallow.
"These poor people who work so hard on their farms…" Hazel whispered. "They'd be furious if they knew I was asking you or anyone for help. They're proud people who think they can take care of this... and they're trying. They're setting up patrols and things like that... but the more they do to counter the goblin problem we've been having, the more proof we see that these goblins are far more organized than they've ever been. The normally, opportunistic goblins, seemed brazened with new bravery as well as coordinated attacks on caravans and smaller villages. Winterholm has seen its fair share of goblin raids on the crops of the farmers which has deeply cut into the funding of these farmers who normally take their harvests to the not so distant Horgoth, which is the capital of Coastlund and a major port city.”
She continued, “These farmers rely on their crops being sold to those ships who are booking long passages around the continent of Ansalon for their supplies. Severed crops means these ships struggle to have enough resources to sell or use, as well as drying up the coin these farmers work so hard for. As if that were not bad enough – the few times that the farmers did take their meager amounts of crops to Horgoth – along the road, they were frequently ambushed by bandits – something unheard of, until only these recent years.”
She walked away, clearly sad, as she placed orders for the other patrons – shouting back at the human cook in the back, Marek.
When she returned with the food, she once again continued, “Winterholm has called on the Knights of Solamnia, but it is common knowledge – ever since the Cataclysm, they’ve never recovered. The agreement the Knights of Solamnia settled with the Kingpriest over five hundred years ago shattered the people’s faith in the Knights, just as the Cataclysm had shattered Istar. The Knights of Solamnia were both blamed, for having been a part that brought the wrath of the gods unto Ansalon, as well as blamed, after the shattering of the world, not being able to protect the cities and towns that suffered from the pestilence, disease, and raids that had happened after the Cataclysm. The scattered remnants of the Knights of Solamnia, who once bore their symbols with pride, often hide them now. If only something could be done,” she sighed and as she left to attend to the other patrons.
"It's true what she says," Ronlyn Drahcir Daero confirmed. "I was born in Winterholm. There's always been a goblin problem here. But the goblins used to be easily terrified. In recent years, their attacks and raids have become far more coordinated. So much so," Ronlyn Drahcir Daero adds, "that I was employed as a soldier in Palanthas to deal with the goblin problems there."
Breara nodded. "Goblins are filth and a bane to the world. We should help uncover what has organized these goblins."
Tharrom, the human, nodded. "There were goblins where I came from and they were indeed a bane to the land."
Tarli shook his head. "Have you ever got stuck in the same cell as a goblin? I have. I can tell you one thing. The smell of a goblin? It takes weeks to wash off that smell. You're better off just burning your clothes, really."
"And you, half-elf?" Feroz looked to the side. "What say you, rock collector?"
Tycus rolled his eyes. "Honestly, I've not really had too many problems with goblins. Though, I've encountered enough of them to have learned their language."
"Then perhaps you will have some use after all, rock collector," Feroz huffed. "Then it's decided. Let us put an end to this goblin menace."
The female gully dwarf, Tegaru Bullabop, approached the table, her brown, matted hair decorated with chicken bones, to hold her hair in place, her blue dress covered in recently created food stains, as she begins to pick up the plates and eat the food still remaining. "I hears Hazel speak with you! You look like fight-fight people! If you go after gobgobs, I can take you! I know magic!"
"What are you going on about, Tegaru?" Ronlyn Drahcir Daero asked. "What do you mean you know magic?"
It was common knowledge that there has never been in all the history of Kyrnn of a gully dwarf who had any form of magical abilities. Many had proclaimed having magic, but it was often just dumb luck that had somehow allowed the gully dwarf to survive some travesty that they proclaimed as magic powers!
"Gobgobs never see me or follow me when I do magic in cave," Tegaru giggled, fancying the idea that she outsmarted goblins, almost daily. "Gobgobs know I am powerful. Fat gobgob always screaming at them how they no find me. Because I have magic!" As if displaying her magical abilities, she lifted her index finger and wiggled it vigorously. "I get fish and mushroom from gobgob caves that Marek use for food. Have big mushrooms there. Big ones someones scream at me."
"Big goblins?" Tycus asked, confused.
"No. Big mushrooms. You not pay attention to what I say? I say big mushrooms there. They scream," Tegaru sighed. (Clearly, these adventurers were nowhere near as experienced as she was)! Tegaru looked the group over and finally whispered, "I show you secret way inside! I use my magic! Oh, only if you promise not to steal Tegaru's magic!"
"Are we really about to follow a gully dwarf?" Breara asked, looking among the others.
"Listen, I know this sounds wild, but I've known Tegaru for years," Ronlyn Drahcir Daero shrugged, "but I can tell you one thing... Tegaru... she's not like any other gully dwarf."
Breara looked over her shoulder at the gully dwarf who'd moved on to another patron's table to clean off. She watched as Tegaru ate the remaining meat off of a chicken leg, then put the moist leg behind her ear. Breara turned and looked at Ronlyn Drahcir Daero again. "Are you sure about that?"
Ronlyn Drahcir Daero chuckled. "I didn't say she wasn't a gully dwarf. Only that she is ... different. And I can't place how. I've just always felt that way about her since I met her." He called Tegaru over, "When do we leave, little one?"
"We leave when Inn closed," Tegaru answered, as if it were obvious. "I have job to do. Me not lazy like you."
Breara looked at Ronlyn Drahcir Daero and smiled. "You're right. Maybe she does have some sense."
"Oh, and a Qualinesti with a sense of humor?" Ronlyn Drahcir Daero countered with a raised eyebrow and a jesting tone.
As the night crept into the sky, the two visible moons, Solinari with its white light and Lunitari with its red light, cast unusual shadows upon the ground. Both moons full, like eyes watching from above. Somewhere in the sky, a third moon watched - Nuitari the black moon, was only visible to those who called upon Nuitari for their magic; but for any who could have seen Nuitari would have seen that this moon too, was full and watching the land below with great interest.
As Tegaru lead Ronlyn, Feroz, Tycus, Tarli, Breara, and Tharrom north through the woods, she'd said that the trip was "five minutes away" they should have known that might be a gross underestimate of the actual time. Thirty minutes into following Tegaru, Ronlyn whispered, "Little one, how much further?"
"Five minutes," Tegaru smiled looking over her shoulder.
"That's the third time she's said that," Tharrom remarked.
"They're not exactly great with numbers," Ronlyn explained.
"Or understanding the concept of time," Feroz growled.
"Or cleaning," Tarli added, holding his nose, being the one standing closest to Tegaru.
Tycus, who had never had any dealings with gully dwarves, as they were called, now understood Breara's original hesitation about following a gully dwarf. "Are we even certain she knows where she's going?"
"The bar wench," Breara began.
"Her name is Hazel," Ronlyn interjected.
"Yes, Hazel," Breara amended. "She mentioned that the gully dwarf..."
"Tegaru," Ronlyn interjected again.
"Yes, Tegaru," Breara shook her head. There was no need for her to memorize the names of insignificant people. "Hazel mentioned this Tegaru was well versed at gathering mushrooms, which Tegaru claims to be from a goblin cave, so if they are both to be believed, she must be telling the truth."
At that moment, Tegaru pointed, "There. See. Five minutes."
Before them was one of the closest mountains north of Winterholm. From the forested area, there was a small clearing at the base of the mountain and Tegaru began walking towards it. Ronlyn grabbed her by the shoulder and whispered, "Did you not say there are goblins in this mountain?"
Tegaru smiled, shook off Ronlyn's hand, and confidently smiled, "You no listen to Tegaru? They scared of me and my magic! I don't worry about goblins."
Feroz huffed, almost beneath his breath, "You have to admire her bravery."
"Yeah, she's too stupid to understand the danger," Tharrom grumbled.
Ronlyn turned on Tharrom. "If half the people were as good as Tegaru, the world of Krynn would be a much better place."
"And stinkier," Tarli added. "But he's right. There's something odd about how Tegaru carries herself. Odd in a good way. For a gully dwarf, that is."
They followed Tegaru to the side of the mountain and observed as she placed her hand on the stone and closed her eyes, as if whispering the spidery words of magic. Tarli, who was the most curious, whispered, "I have a funny feeling."
"As do I," Tharrom admitted.
"There is something here," Breara commented. "I can feel it. Is it true that the gully dwarf is using magic of some kind?"
"No," Tarli noted suddenly. "Look, she's placed her hand on a well-hidden secret passage - the stone she's pushing, it's revealing..."
The cave wall creaked open, revealing a small cave beyond.
"See!" Tegaru smiled. "I do magic! Make stone move!"
No one had the heart to explain that what she'd found was a secret passage. Stepping inside, the room was immaculate, which was odd for a gully dwarf's finding. In the center of the room was a large statue of a fiery bird that had been painted blue; at the fiery, blue bird's base were statues of animals scattered all around.
Tarli let out a gasp. Throwing all of his pouches on the ground, he began rummaging through them until he pulled out a book; it'd been the book that Emeelia Heartroot had given him! Flipping through the pages quickly, he opened it up and pointed. "It's the same statue," Tarli pointed. "My best friend, Emeelia Heartroot, gave me this book! And in her book she had sketched this very same statue! She said she had a vision of it and that she'd hoped to find it, believing it was somewhere here on Ansalon! And look, I found it!"
Feroz looked, "What is the significance of this bird statue?" The minotaur asked, glancing over the statue that stood as tall as him. "And why would it be hidden in this cave?"
"According to Emeelia Heartroot, she's my best friend - did I tell you about how I rescued her? So there were these bandits and they," Tarli began to explain.
"Focus, Tarli, the bird, what is the significance?" Ronlyn asked, urging the kender to bypass the story of the dramatic rescue.
"It's a statue of Habbakuk," Tarli explained, closing the book and putting it back in his pouch. He gathered his pouches and looked, "He's the god of animal life and the sea," Tarli explained. "He's the god that Emeelia Heartroot followed. She's the one who taught me all about it. I was very curious about Habbakuk, wondered why he and the other gods left. I began to practice the things Emeelia Heartroot showed me. We were druids. There was this one time that we were doing some of our rituals when," Tarli began to explain, just as his hand brushed against the fiery, blue, statue and a burst of blue light suddenly filled the room.
"I have waited here, slumbering - waiting for someone of faith to find me," a voice filled their heads, speaking with such clarity and ease, that it washed away all other thoughts. "Goodness I sense in you to make a change and be ready for what is to come. Mishakal's gift is soon to be found by others - know that you stand before the blue phoenix, for I am Habbakuk - god of animal life and the sea! A war comes to Ansalon and it is time that the faithful to become aware of the shadow. I give you my gift through faith. You must tell the world, the gods had not left; it was the mortals who turned their backs on the gods. They must learn and accept the truth. They will fight you, for the folly of mortals is difficult to overcome. Take my light, awaken, and go forward - for you will be beacons of hope against the shadow and war that comes!"
As the blue light faded, the statue remained, but the blue color was now drained; and it looked as if it were simply made of grey stone.
Tharrom looked at his hands and trembled. He placed his hand on Tycus, closing his eyes and muttered a prayer. Tycus suddenly felt a sense of zeal course through his body. Tycus turned, "What have you done to me?"
Tharrom's mouth was agape. It took him a moment to answer. "Then you felt that?"
"Yes," Tycus answered. "What did you do to me?" he repeated.
"I have blessed you," Tharrom explained. "In my head... I can hear... things. I... my faith... restored..."
Tarli looked at his fingers and saw them flicker.
"Oh, this can't be good," Breara whispered, "a Kender with magical abilities?"
"It's the second Cataclysm," Feroz grumbled.
Bringing them back to their thoughts, Tegaru's ever optimistic voice said, "Me show you where goblins now?"
As they left the cavern, Tegaru placed her hand on the stone again and closed her eyes, muttering words of "Rat soup and chickens coup" as the magical words required to open and close this door. She turned to the others, "You see how I do big light show? I told you Tegaru know magic! Move rocks! Do big lights! This why gobgobs want Tegaru! They want her magic."
"Actually Tegaru," Tarli began to explain, "it was the -."
Ronlyn covered the Kender's mouth and whispered, "Let her have this, Kender. Thanks to her, you now have magic. Something unheard of among your kind. So show her some kindness."
"But that's lying," Tarli began to protest, trying to pull Ronlyn's figures away from his mouth. The sincerity built into every Kender's heart to always tell the truth was, perhaps, the sole saving grace when a Kender acquired someone's possessions and truthfully proclaims they have no idea how they came to own it, allowed for Kenders to be generally tolerate.
"And this one time, Kender, you're going to go let it go," Ronlyn warned, "besides, if you never say anything, you're technically not lying. You're simply withholding the truth."
"Well, I guess that kind of makes sense," Tarli agreed.
Tharrom, who was walking behind Ronlyn and Tarli, looked to his left, where Breara kept quiet, even strides. "It's madness," he muttered, "what if, in some way, Ronlyn is right. What are the chances that this was all... planned? That Tegaru, while out searching for food, stumbled upon the secret passage of where Habbakuk may have once been worshipped... the chances of all of us coming together," his mind drifted back to the journal of Haylie Starchaser, and how she had depicted this very same group of strangers coming together, "the odds seem... staggering to even consider. One must wonder," Tharrom's eyes moved to Tegaru who was gleefully leading them towards the goblins, "if she was indeed selected. A symbol of sorts, that even a gully dwarf is important to the balance of the world."
Breara was silent for a moment. She too had felt something in her when, what appeared to be Habbakuk, awaken; but the idea of that Habbakuk, or any deity, might select a gully dwarf to be guide to their awakening seemed too staggering, as Tharrom had said, to even consider. However, how Tegaru had come to find the secret passage, according to her, years ago and never revealed it to anyone else until they'd come - almost seemed like... fate.
Tegaru was about to step into the next clearing, when Feroz grapped the little gully dwarf and pulled her back into the forest. "Voices," he whispered, tilting his massive head.
"Yeah, that goblins," Tegaru stated, as if it were obvious. "You ask me to take you to goblins. That's where goblins go. Front cave."
Feroz called behind him through clenched teeth, "Rock collector, get up here. You said you understood the goblin tongue?"
"My name is Tycus," the half-elf muttered as he came to stand next to the towering minotaur. He tilted his head slightly, listening to the high pitched sounds of goblin voices. He turned to the minotaur, "It would seem there's at least two of them. They seem to be arguing about 'feeding the wolves' - neither of them apparently want to do it because the wolves snap at them."
"So there's wolves in the cave that we may need to deal with, as well, then," Feroz nodded in hushed tones.
Ronlyn and Breara inched forward. "Allow us to scout ahead," Breara whispered. "Your armor," she pointed to Feroz, "would make too much noise."
"You're wearing scalemail," Feroz countered, his nostrils flaring.
"I know how to be quiet," Breana smiled. "Would you ever let a large animal inside an antique shop?" She quickly dashed off into the bushes.
"I am not an animal!" Feroz hissed, though she was gone.
"I am going to go with them," Tarli smiled. Feroz tried to stop the Kender, but he was too swift, diving into the bushes.
"I trust the female elf and Ronlyn to be quiet," Tharrom whispered, "but I have never known a Kender to be quiet."
Feroz recalled the time that Tarli had spent upon his boat. "Trust me, I understand," he heaved a deep sigh.
"I see two goblins for sure," Ronlyn whispered.
"And another perched on top of the stone positioned in front of the cave of the mouth," Breana warned. She'd perched herself in the tree to get a better view; having been a Qualinesti elf, she felt at home moving through the tree branches.
"I can get one of them down here," Ronlyn suggested.
"And I the one on the stone," Breana agreed.
"That leaves the third one," Ronlyn pondered what to do. "He could call out a warning if there's more goblins in that cave. And if I know goblins, and trust me, I am well versed in dealing with them during my time in Palanthas, there's definitely more inside that cave."
"I'll take the third one," Tarli suddenly tumbled from the brush.
"All you have is a hoopak and a dagger," Ronlyn whispered.
"Have you never seen a kender use their hoopak?" Tarli whispered.
"Admittedly, I have not," Ronlyn confessed, "I ... rarely seem to find myself in the company of kender. It's almost like... I try to avoid them."
"Well, first, that's very rude," Tarli commented beneath his breath. "You could learn a lot of things about the world through Kender. Do you know that we all go through this thing called Wanderlust? And when we do, we often map areas that most people-."
Ronlyn placed his hand over Tarli's mouth. What was with everyone's obsession with putting their hands on his mouth? "Your hoopak," Ronlyn finally said after the Kender calmed down. "You can use it to attack them?"
"Yes," Tarli sneered, after pulling Ronlyn's hand away. "Remember how I said the smell of goblins takes so long to wash off that you're better off burning whatever got their smell on you? Well, that's why Kender use hoopaks - we can use them up close, or, see this part," he gestured to the top of his hoopak, "it's like a sling. So when we fight things like goblins, that's what we try to use so we can stay away from them." Tarli cleared his throat, "You might know that if you hung out with a Kender or two in your life."
In unison, the trio struck - Breara's arrow firing with expertise, striking directly into the goblin's throat, who slumped forward dead. Ronlyn threw his dagger which struck the goblin in the chest, as he began to wail out in pain. Tarli's hoopak sling flung a rounded rock with enough force to bloody the goblin it struck in the head; but that left two survivors who were now screaming; one of them shouting a word, repeatedly, "Borgus."
Ronlyn, Breara and Tarli watched in horror and fascination as Feroz burst from the bushes, his head lowered so his horns were like two sharpened weapon like a gorging rush, as he brought them into a goblin, impaling it then flinging its lifeless corpse over his body. The third goblin fell, struck by Tycus' javelin.
"They may know we're here," Tharrom said as he walked past the three corpses of goblins.
"The Kender was right about one thing," Tycus grunted, "goblins smell horrible."
Breana turned to Tycus, "One of the goblins was shouting 'Borgus' - does that translate to anything?"
Tycus shook his head. "Not that I have ever heard of. Could be a name."
The odor of goblins emanated from the cavern entrance as well. Clearly there were more goblins inside and they had denned here for quite some time. Just inside the cavern entrance, a metal hook wrapped around one of the jagged rocks, from which rabbit meat dangled. "This is probably what they feed the wolves," Tharrom pointed out, examining the meat which was clearly rotten.
"We should take the rabbit meat," Tycus said, looking at the meat.
"It smells like goblin," Tarli complained, sniffing the meat. "What would we need it for?"
"The wolves they were talking about," Tycus answered. "If there's wolves in there we may need the meat as a distraction."
"There's three wolves locked up, just inside to the right," Ronlyn replied.
Startled, Tycus turned to face him. "How do you know that?"
"After the chaos of the battle, I slipped into the cave and took a quick look while you were all looking over the corpses of the goblins. As soon as I got inside I could hear the wolves. Went to take a look. All three are shackled to chains," Ronlyn answered. "It's what I used to do as a soldier in Palanthas," he shrugged. "I used to scout goblins in caves and track them down," he concluded, matter-of-factly. Ronlyn turned towards Tarli. "The wolves have matted fur and look to have been burned as well. There's a pile of sticks with cloth near the entrance of the den they're being held in. Looks to me they were trying to break the wolves to be trained and serve the goblins."
"That's horrible," Tarli gasped, clenching at his own shirt as if he could somehow massage his own aching heart. "We have to help them."
"They might be too far gone," Tycus suggested, "I was just thinking of bringing the rabbit meat so we could throw it to them and put them out of their misery while distracted."
"We have to try and help the wolves," Tarli pleaded, tugging on Feroz's belt, "tell them!"
"The half-elf might be right," Feroz whispered, taking the dagger that Tarli had 'picked up' from Feroz's belt, "it might be more merciful to put them down."
"We have to try, Feroz," Tarli wiped the tears from his eyes. "You saw the statues around Habbakuk! All those animals."
Breana stepped forward, placing her hand on Tarli's shoulder. "We will try little one. You and I."
Tarli wiped his tears and blew his nose on Breana's shirt. "Thanks, I thought you might understand, being an elf and all."
Feroz placed his hand on Breana's shoulder. "This is dangerous."
"I would rather risk my life with wolves," she smiled, "then hear a Kender cry."
Feroz couldn't help but smile. "You have made your point. We will all go with you... just in case."
Tharrom stepped forward, "If the wolves have been burned, perhaps healing may be of some use. I will go with you, Tarli and Breana."
As Tharrom entered the den of wolves, he could not only see that the fur on the wolves had been burned in several places, but he could smell it as well; an odor of burnt hair mixed with urine and feces struck him with the force of a mace crushing his nostrils. These wolves were not only chained, but forced to lay in their feces and urine, unable to move. Though the wolves raised their hackles and growled, their noses twitching, ears back, Tharrow could not help but feel sorrow for these tortured animals.
A goblin corpse was suddenly flung next to him, landing in front of the wolves, which pounced and attacked the corpse, ripping it to shreads. Tycus said, "See how they did not even go for the rabbit meat, rotten as it may be, would be better than goblin flesh. These wolves have not been broken and despise the goblins."
Breara and Tarli spoke softly to the wolves, offering rabbit meat, while Tharrom was able to place his hand on the first wolf, close his eyes and call upon Gilean, god of knowledge, for how he might heal this wolf of its wounds - and much to his surprise, he felt energy coarsing through his body, extending outward through his hands, and as he opened his eyes, he watched in wonder and awe, as the wolf's wounds began to seal. The wolf, stunned by the soothing touch, suddenly lowered its head and showed signs of being submissive. Tharrom stared at his hands - he knew that he had been bestowed the ability to heal - but he never imagined it was true. He was waiting for this to fail. He looked back at the others, shocked. Tharrom tries to break the shackles, as poorly made as they are but can not. He turns and gestures for the towering minotaur, Feroz, to come do so - and with next to no effort, the muscular minotaur turns the first shackle to a junk pile. The freed wolf observes them for a moment, then gazes to the other two wolves then back.
"He wants us to heal and free the other two!" Tarli shouted, excitedly. "I told you they wanted our help!"
Repeating the process for the next two wolves, Tharrom is still surprised to see healing energy - something not seen through Ansalon for a very, very long time, with Feroz snapping the collars again for each wolf. Once all three wolves were free, the first one howled, as if thanking them; then all three wolves ran out of the den and out of the cave; forcing Tegaru to dive in the bushes, as she'd been outside.
Moving out of the wolf den and deeper into the cavern, each of them moved quietly, well aware that there had to be more than three goblins in the cave. They were startled to come to an area of the cave that was overgrown with mushrooms; but mushrooms of various sizes. Some, no more than an inch or two, others towering nearly seven feet tall, and everywhere between.
"Remember, Tegaru mentioned gathering mushrooms," Breana commented, "this must be where she'd been gathering them from."
"She also mentioned some were 'screamers'," Feroz pointed out.
"Ronlyn," Tarli began, "you mentioned you used to hunt goblins while you were a soldier in the Palanthas army; did you ever see anything like this?"
"I haven't," Ronlyn admitted, "though, I'd heard if you go deep into the caverns, deep underground, such mushrooms grew."
"I've seen large mushrooms," Breana admitted, "standing about three feet tall. But none nearly as tall as some of these."
"I wonder what she meant that they're screamers," Tycus began to ask when suddenly a high pitch sound burst forward, forcing him and the others to cover their ears.
As they glanced around to see what had happened, Tarli came running out from the mushroom patch shouting, "I think they scream if you touch the tall ones!"
"You think?" Tycus tried to shout over the emission of the high pitched scream.
"Well, I know," Tarli confessed. "To be fair, I didn't touch it. My hoopak brushed against it. They have these tiny branches like hair follicles, you see and..."
"We don't need to know why anymore," Feroz growled.
Suddenly shouting from the other side of the mushroom patch could be heard.
"Goblins," Tycus hissed, "they're shouting something about 'Borgus.' That's the second time we've heard that from these goblins!" Tycus' mind raced; he looked at the narrow path from which Tarli had emerged. He turned to Tarli, "You got anything plant-like you can do to obscure the path?"
Tarli closed his eyes, extending his arms forward and wiggling his fingers; to Tycus' surprise, a stream of fog poured from the Kender's fingers and covered the path. It wasn't exactly what he'd expected; but it would work. Tycus then listened until the goblins were coming down the now obscured path, and channeled the Cataclysm stones he had in his armor, which then triggered a spell he'd learned; a stream of acid emanated from his gauntlets, spraying directly in front of him, hissing as it made contact with the air. The acidic spray spewed forth, covering the approaching give goblins, who screamed in pain as the acid descended on them through the fog.
Two of the goblins, collapsed forward, dead; one of the other three, tripped over his two dead companions, with the last two burst through the fog, their faces and flesh burned by the acid, driven by fury. One of the goblins lunged forward racing towards Breana as she began to knock an arrow, however, Tharrom brought his mace down, crushing the side of the goblin's skull.
The last goblin lunged forward towards Tarli who threw a dagger, he'd drawn from his pouch, and struck the goblin on the throat. The goblin clasped his throat in an attempt to stop the immense bleeding, but it was already too late; the goblin slumped to the side, lifeless. Ronlyn looked at the dagger, then over to Tarli. "That's my dagger."
"Is it?" Tarli asked, innocently. "This is the second time I've had to pick up your dagger. In all the confusion, I probably just forgot to tell you that you'd dropped it again. You need to stop being so careless. Children might find it and hurt themselves if you keep dropping it."
Ronlyn retrieved his dagger, wiping the goblin's blood on its own tunic. Ronlyn made his way through the path the goblins had paved, avoiding the taller mushrooms that Tarli had pointed out had small twigs, like hair follicles. Tarli followed directly behind him. Once on the other side, the two saw a large underwater lake. Examining the lake, the water was so clear they could see six feet, easily, and saw that there was an abundance of fish swimming in its clear waters. "This must be where Tegaru gets some of the fish for the Frost Maiden Inn," Ronlyn remarked in hushed whispers.
A moment later, the large mushrooms began to scream loudly; as Ronlyn looked, he watched as Feroz cleared a path with his axe. By the time he'd cleared through to the other side, fragments of mushrooms clung to every part of his body. "There was no way I was going to make it through there without hitting those things, so I went the direct route," as he brandished his axe.
Tarli's voice suddenly rang out a moment longer, "I think I found Borgus!" he screamed as he ran out of one of the passages he'd slipped into while Feroz was cleaving his way through the mushrooms.
A Hobgoblin - that might have been Half Ogre - burst forward from the passage giving chase to Tarli. The flesh of the hobgoblin seemed to ooze through areas in its chainmail; it's legs were short, as if suppressed by the hobgoblin's rotund size; it's face was round, thick, and had baby fat, almost giving it a child-like appearance... save for the eyes were a deep pit of despair and anger. "You have made a grave error," the hobgoblin named Borgus warned, "and now Borgus Ogreblood make graves for you all." He drew his longsword and smiled, his teeth as yellow as his flesh.
The last name of Ogreblood certainly explained the Hobgoblin's unusual size.
As Tarli ran from Borgus, he turned and prepared to cast a spell, in his haste, tripped and fell - and still managed to scream the words of the spell as he tumbled forward - releasing the spell; however, not at Borgus. His hand had contorted, trying to brace himself and the spell misfired striking a surprised Tycus. Tarli's spell had been a shard of ice that had flung from his fingertips, cutting deep into Tycus' flesh. That might have been fine, however, a secondary effect of the spell was the frozen shard exploding, which had been enough to knock Tycus out, as he lay bleeding from the misfired spell.
Feroz had no time to worry about the rock collector; he brought up his battle axe and rushed forward towards Borgus, bringing his battle axe down time after time; but Borgus, despite his portly size, the hobgoblin moved quickly. "Someone see to the rock collector while I deal with this mass of a hobgoblin!"
Tharrom races to Tycus' side and gasped. The wound was a grave one. He looked at his hands again, still not used to the idea that he'd healed the wolves earlier... but those had been relatively simply wounds. Tycus was mortally wounded and potentially dying. This was different. Tharrom's first thought was to bandage and stablize Tycus; something he'd become well versed as as a 'medic.' Tearing off a part of his own shirt, he wrapped the cloth around the wound to stop the bleeding. Tarli, who had gotten back to his feet and was taunting the hobgoblin for a moment, made his way after a few well phrased taunts, to come kneel next to Tycus. "How is he?"
"It's bad, Tarli," Tharrom replied, gloomly.
"I didn't mean it," Taril's eyes began to water.
"We know you didn't," Tharrom assured the Kender. He placed his hand on Taril's shoulder. "I know that your friend taught you had to be a druid and channel, and the statue of Habbakuk was admired by druids long ago - and you just cast the spell. Tarli, I now need you to help me. Place your hands here on Tycus, and together, we're going to channel our healing magic into him."
Tarli nodded his head, wiping away his tears, and blowing his excess mucus on Tharrom's sleeve. "I understand," the kender replied between sniffles.
Meanwhile, as Feroz fought Borgus Ogreblood, Ronlyn moved in to strike Borgus from the side, the massive minotaur keeping the hobgoblin's attention; but strike after strike, no matter how deep Ronlyn pierced the hobgoblin's flesh, it'd been like stabbing a bear from Ice Reach after a good winter, it's mass seemed to protect it from Ronlyn being able to get a good hit. Breana in the meantime, stayed back, firing arrow after arrow. Borgus had eight arrows protruding from his exposed flesh like an oversized porcupine. "I need a clean shot," she finally called out.
Feroz took his battle axe and cleaved towards Borgus' head; as expected the hobgoblin had managed to deflect the minotaur's blow, but it'd been enough to allow Ronlyn who had given up on stabbing the obese hobgoblin and simply jump on the hobgoblin's back and pull off his protective helmet.
Breana let an arrow fly; and similar to the goblin outside the cave, as Ronlyn had pulled the helmet off, the hobgoblin's oversized head had gotten stuck in the helmet, but the effort of pulling off the helmet had left Borgus' throat exposed and the arrow found it's mark. Borgus fought on for almost three more minutes as copious amounts of blood burst from the wound in his neck. Pure adrenaline and fury had kept the hobgoblin going, but the more he swung furiously at Feroz, the more his heart raced from the effort and the more blood poured from the wound, before the hobgoblin suddenly stopped and collapsed forward, the dark crimson pool forming around his head.
Feroz turned towards Tharrom and Tarli. "How is the rock collector?"
Neither answered and Feroz knew that was a grim sign.
Suddenly a burst of white light emitted from their hands and Tycus suddenly sat up screaming.
"I saved you!" Tarli shouted, leaping to his feet.
"You also nearly killed me, kender," Tycus shouted, looking at his bandaged abdomen. He removed the bandage and much to his surprise, not even a scar remained. Tycus looked between Tharrom and Tarli. "Your healing magic... it's real." He'd seen Tharrom heal the wolves, but he'd also encountered so many charlatans on the road, he was convinced it'd all somehow been staged.
"Bad news," Ronlyn's voice broke the silence that settled. "This isn't over." He held a parchment in his hand. "Seems Borgus wasn't the end of the line. I found this note on his person - it reads:
Borgus Ogreblood,
As you might imagine, I am quite curious about this cavern that you mentioned this gully dwarf keeps disappear in. You and your men said you think there's something beyond the wall which the simple-minded gully dwarf seems to keep vanishing into... but you're not able to find a means to how this gully dwarf is outsmarting all of you... disappointing. I would rather not dirty my armor making the trip there to use my Cleric magic to see how this filthy dwarf is outsmarting you and your men, but my god calls on me to do exactly that.
- Krizzen Arcmoon
Faithful Cleric of Chemosh.
"Who is Chemosh?" Feroz asked as he wiped the hobgoblin's blood off of his axe.
"Chemosh is the God of Death," Tharrom answered as he assisted Tycus in standing. "An evil god."
"Makes sense," Tarli said, in a surprising sprout of wisdom, "if Habbakuk, the god of life is awakened, the balance would make it that the god of death would also be awakened."
"We need to take this back and tell the people of Winterholm," Ronlyn urged.
TO BE CONTINUED.