1


           

Rova 2: Moonday


            The party chased goblins together with the town guards and, belatedly, a portion of the town's militia for a good part of the night (though not with Haz and Ollie, as Ollie was too nervous around Silverpaw). The little menaces escaped across Tanner's Bridge, leapt into the harbor and even jumped off the cliffs to certain death rather than be captured, which said a bit about goblin mentality (or, perhaps, the fate of goblin captives). By dawn there were eight goblins captured alive, including the ones the party had dealt with.
            Evan had won his bet against the perpetually bemused Todd, and the town guards' corporal Jaren Basvear offered to buy the party a round on behalf of the town guards at Cracktooth's Tavern that evening. Everyone was tired, but straightened up when Sheriff Hemlock marched up to inspect the sullen captives. "We'll hang them today, after the cathedral is consecrated," the grim-faced man announced. Turning to the party, he nodded. "The guards say you worked hard to help us all night, not just at the festival. Thank you for your help. Miss Amismara, is it? If you'd do what you can to help Father Zantus heal the wounded, it would be appreciated." Eyeing the Shoanti men, he added in Shoanti, "You've brought great honor on yourselves this night."
            Returning to Taldane, he said, "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to find a way to interrogate the goblins before they're hung." He didn't look very pleased at the prospect.
            "Can I assist you?" Todd put her cold little hands together "I know a bit about ...interrogating goblins... and I know the songs needed."
            "Oh, but your don't know about the fine sport of goblin hunting?? You have something against short people, I see how it is!! Hhrumphh" Evan Stomps off to go find cookies. Then he said, "I understand their foul language, I will assist."
            Apparently Sheriff Hemlock hadn't been around when Todd sang the day before. "If you can talk to them you're more than welcome. Jubal, Nilly, Quera - see about getting the goblins into Vachedi's care before your rounds. The rest of you, get some rest. Good job, everyone."
            In short order the tied-up goblins were marched down into the town jail, which lay under the barracks. The jailor, Vachedi, was a huge, heavily scarred brute of a Shoanti who nodded to the Shoanti in the party but otherwise said little as they trooped into his gloomy jail. He locked the Sheriff and the party into a cell with the goblins, then stood back to watch along with the handful of men and women inhabiting the other cells.
            The Sheriff loomed over the goblins, scowling. "Why did you attack Sandpoint?" he asked, then nodded at Todd. It seemed he expected her to translate.
            Todd begins to translate... and make a remark of her own to the goblins about singing to them!
            The goblins made faces at Todd, and one spat in her direction. Apparently they hadn't heard her singing, either.
            Hrolfr leans towards Todd and says in a conspiratorial tone: "Excuse me for a moment, Mistress gnome....I have to go see a man about a dog"
            Hrolfr then goes away. He approaches Sheriff Hemlock and tries to get his attention. "I might have an idea as to how we can get the little demons to sing. Who has the biggest, meanest and ugliest dog in town?"
            Sheriff Hemlock frowned. "I don't know about mean or ugly, but the biggest dogs in town belong to our smith, Das Korvut. He named his smithy after them - the Red Dog Smithy. You'll find it if you take Tower Street and then High Street towards the tannery."
            "Thank you, Sheriff". Hrolfr makes his way up from the jail and into the street. He stops to ask directions from a passer-by before making his way to Das Korvut's smithy in High Street.

2


            At Todd's request, Vachedi's small table was brought into the cell, along with his chair for Todd to climb up on so she could reach the table.
            Todd begins to sing, but not as pleasant as before, and this time in goblin... most explicitly about goblins getting... hurt... a lot! Also she pulls various instruments from her pockets and bag and starts to arrange them on a peace of cloth on a small table
            Both Sheriff Hemlock and Vachedi looked horrified at Todd's hideous singing, and the onlookers in the other cells moved back, trying to plug their ears. It was probably just as well that they didn't speak Goblin. The goblins didn't appear to mind the singing itself, but the words made them appear uneasy.
            Even eyes the instuments being pulled from the bag and wonders out loud "so, you must do this often if you have a special kit that you carry around with you" then whispers to Todd "is the law (nods towards the sheriff) gonna be ok with this?" nervously.
            Todd tests the function of one of the instruments: a short shaft with a pear shaped mesh, that rotates when she turns a handle on the side. With a satisfied look she places the instrument on the table. "What do You mean?" She picks up a small wooden handle with a steel spiral on the middle, and holds it so the spiral is sticking out between her index- and ring finger. She points the spiral in the direction of one of the goblins, as if to size it up, then nods and puts it on the table too.
            Having followed Amismara since he was healed, Cael has been fairly quiet as if contemplating something. The return of Silverpaw to his side did of course warrant a good scritching behind her ears. The sight of Todd's implements being laid out are causing a slight frown on his face. Silverpaw is mostly having her ears laid back, due to the singing no doubt.
            Amismara watched Hrolfr leave, and then turned back to Todd. "What is she holding?" she thought to herself. She felt a rising sense of trepidation about what might happen: the dogs would be used to frighten the goblins; the same with Todd's tools, it appeared. After that, perhaps, both would be used to inflict pain?
            She remembered one of the tenets of her religion: "When your actions create fear and pain in another, you are facing in the direction of evil." She swallowed uncomfortably and waited to see what happened next.
            Andok gives Amismara a sympathetic look at her notable discomfort. "Patience, God-Speaker. The little one knows what she does, and holds no evil in her heart. The goblins will bring their own evil to her - knowing nothing else, they will make her like them in their. She will do nothing wrong."
            She took the Shoanti's words to heart, and took a deep breath to wait. As she realized Todd was threatening the goblins with a wisk, she stifled a grin and looked on patiently.
            Sheriff Hemlock's frown deepened in puzzlement as he looked over Todd's shoulder at the various kitchen implements. The goblins, though, had either never seen a corkscrew or a gnomish eggbeater before, or had thought of unpleasant uses for them, because they looked quite nervous now.

3


            As dawn broke over the town, people began to emerge from their homes (or the homes they'd fled into), wary of goblins but going about their business. Hrolfr caught hold of one of them, a white-bearded farmer with an empty cart. It seemed the passerby was one of the people Hrolfr had helped save, and the man enthusiastically shook Hrolfr's hand, introducing himself as Maester Grump. "If there's ever anything I can do fer you, just ask!" he insisted.
            He seemed a little disappointed that all Hrolfr wanted was directions to the smithy, but he gave them willingly enough. It seemed the smithy wasn't actually on High Street, but just around the corner on Festival Street, close enough to the tannery that the sharp stink was like a pack of goblin dogs lying in the sun, mixed with the smell of the forge. "Just you mind that Korvut's temper," Grump warned Hrolfr as he waved the ranger goodbye.
            The powerfully muscled bald man in the smithy turned out to be the same one the party had seen fending off goblins with his great hammer. His thick red muttonchops bounced with every strike as he hammered away at what looked to be a plowshare. Three large red mastiffs lounged about on the floor, turning to look at Hrolfr as he approached.
            Hrolfr bows his head to the large smith. "Master Korvut. I am Hrolfr, the Wanderer, son of Ketill. I have a boon to ask of you. We have captured some of the green demons that raided the village this night, and we need them to tell us the whereabouts of the rest of them. They are not easy to intimidate, but I know one of the thing that does. Dogs." Hrolfr pauses for a short while to let his idea sink in.
            "The townspeople of this town told me you had the most impressive dogs in town. I would like to borrow one or two of them for a while. Now, I wouldn't let them anywhere near those filthy little buggers, but they don't know that. I swear on my honor your dogs will come to no harm."
            Hrolfr looks at Das Korvut expectantly, waiting for his answer.
            The smith threw his hammer down in disgust, wiping his hands on his leather apron. "What kind of dumbass numbskull-" He paused when he saw Hrolfr, and his scowl lightened a bit. "Here, I seen you. At the festival, fightin' them fuckin' goblins." He wiped his forehead with his arm, leaving a dark smudge. "Normally I'd 'a told you where you could stick them shit-eatin' goblins... but you fought good for our town." He leaned on a table scattered with smithing tools, peering at Hrolfr. "You want my damn dogs, huh? I guess ol' Mutt wouldn't mind takin' a walk," he grunted grudgingly. Korvut gestured at one of the dogs, who obediently rose and paced toward him, tongue lolling. It was a monster of a dog, its head reaching to the burly smith's waist.
            Korvut stepped away from the forge, telling his other dogs to guard. "You lead the way, Wanderer. Mutt'll make any damn goblin shit bricks."
            "That, Master Smith, I believe". Hrolfr then leads Das Korvut and his Mutt to the town jail.

4


            In goblin: "Now, before I begin, is there anything You would like to tell me? I should really like to know about the location of Your nest and how many You are!... Anyone?" asked Todd.
            Strangely, the goblins turned to each other, shooting the others dirty looks.
            "Stupid Birdcrunchers better not say nothing!"
            "Ugly Thistletops shut up!"
            "Licktoads no talk, or else!"
            It looked like if they hadn't been tied, they would have started a fight among themselves. As it was, there was a lot of snarling and kicking.
            The Sheriff turned his frown on Evan. "What did she say to them?"
            Todd translates to the Sheriff and says "Perhaps we could separate the goblins?"
            Amismara took note of the apparent divisions, and ascribed the various names to different tribes: 'Birdcruncher', 'Thistletop' and 'Licktoads'. She waited for a chance to ask the Sheriff if he'd heard of these tribes.
            Sheriff Hemlock nodded to Todd. "Vachedi, gather the others in a cell. We're splitting up the goblins."
            As they worked to gather the human prisoners and move the goblins, Amismara approached Sheriff Hemlock about the tribes. The Sheriff grunted, rubbing his arm where a goblin had bitten him while he tried to move it. "I've heard of them. We know someone who keeps track of them, but she only shows up once or twice a season, and she was here last month. She probably won't be back until around the last week of autumn."
            "Then perhaps we go find her," Andok interjects into the Sheriff and Amismara's conversation. "Too many tribes together - such a thing is an ill omen. I would sooner fight battles with a greater knowledge of what we face. Do you know where we might find her?"
            The Sheriff shook his head, his face grim. "I have no idea. She wanders all over the hinterlands; I don't even know if she went north, south or east."
            " I speak goblin too, maybe we can have simultaneous interrogations going and play them off each other." Evan said.
            "It's an idea." Sheriff Hemlock motioned towards the cells. "See what you can-"
            Just then there was a heavy banging on the jail door. "Open up and let us in, you morons! I ain't waitin' all day!" It was Korvut the smith and his dog, who had followed Hrolfr back to the garrison.
            Vachedi unlocked the door, and Korvut pushed through ahead of Hrolfr, looking around at the cells with a sneer. "Show me them goblins! Mutt here will chew 'em up." The massive mastiff, bigger than Silverpaw, raised its head and scented the air, ears pricked forward. A low growl rumbled from its chest, filling the air and silencing the bickering goblins, who scuttled to the back of their cells. Even the human prisoners backed up as the dog stalked past, hackles raised.
            Amismara gaped at the beast as it entered. She moved over to Silverpaw and placed her hand on the wolf's back. "Let's give this one some room, eh, sweetie?"
            While Silverpaw might have reacted to the beast of a dog, the gentle touch of Amismara and her master's presence seems to have her calm enough that she offers no challenge to the newcomer. She noses Amismara's leg in responce to the touch.
            Cael standing next to them, raises an eyebrow. "Them goblins aren't going to be more than a few mouthfuls for that one.." he murmurs.
            On arriving, and finding that the goblins have been split up, Hrolfr looks for Todd and beckons her aside. In a hushed voice, he utters: "Mistress Gnome. I have brought the largest dog in town. I won't let it near the goblin, wouldn't be fair on the dog, but....with the dog barking, you might get the goblins to think that the dog has been let loose on the others. Now if you have a better trick, we'll stay out of the way for now. You just let me know."
            Evan says, in goblin, to the goblins "Don't worry, it doesn't eat goblins, it just loved to chew them." with a sly smile thrown in at the end.
            "No let bad dog chew us!" the goblins gibbered, climbing over one another to get to the very back of their cells. Those closest the bars bared myriad long, slender teeth at the dog, ready to fight like cornered rats.
            Korvut urged Mutt forward, and the dog stopped in front of the nearest goblins' cell and began to bark. Each bark was deep and loud, drowning out speech as it threatened the little monsters.
            Evan started in with the interrogation. "Who commanded you to attack this town?"
            It was hard to hear their answers over the din Mutt was making, but Evan thought he heard the goblins yell something about "you longshanks."
            "Where is your closest camp?"
            This resulted in the goblins nodding in several directions, perhaps because they were underground.
            "What were you supposed to accomplish in this attack?"
            The goblins were reluctant to admit to this, but between Todd's kitchen tools and the dog they caved, and shouted something about killing and burning.
            "Is another attack planned or on the way?"
            This was met with strange looks directed at Evan and vigorously shaken heads.
            "Where are these longshanks?"
            The goblins looked at each other, muttering. Either the question confused them, or they weren't talking.
            "Tell me the names of all the clans who participated in the attack!"
            This gained Evan only more confused looks; then the goblins started accusing each other of various acts of villainy, apparently trying to put the blame for "partissipatating," "potpissarating" or "portissipping" anywhere but on themselves.
            "Tell me the names of your clan leaders!"
            It was hard to make out over the dog's incessant barking, but the goblins came up with three names: Chiefs Neegla, Ripnugget and Badguts.
            "What were you supposed to do after you killed and burned?"
            This seemed to nonplus the goblins. "After" wasn't a thought they had very often. "Go home?" one ventured, and was promptly kicked by the others.
            Andok watches the interrogation with a bemused look on his face. "The little ones all speak so quickly..." he mutters to himself. He takes an opportunity when Evan stops to get a breath in to speak to Evan. "Perhaps we should bring them to show us where they came from, if we promise to let them go afterwards. A chance at honor may give these goblinfolk an opportunity to surprise us with their humanity."
            "Fantastic idea, and what a surprise it would be, will the Sherriff go along?" Evan makes the stated offer to the goblins.
            From the way the Sheriff was scowling at the goblins, it didn't look like he'd go along with Andok's idea, so it was probably just as well that he apparently hadn't heard the offer over Mutt's barking.
            The goblins leapt at the opportunity, their gabbling adding to the cacophony in the jail - they'd probably have sold their own mothers to get away alive.
            "Just let Mutt eat 'em, already," Korvut bellowed, sneering through the bars at the goblins. "I ain't got all day!"
            Vachedi grunted. "You sound like Master Hosk," he said, seemingly amused.
            Todd said to one of the isolated goblins: "Now tell me how You got the gate open!"
            The goblin shrugged. "It was open," it yelled over the din.
            "Well, let's get this show on the road, soo whose up for a hike?" Evan asked.
            Amismara's shoulders slumped a little bit. "While I'd normally be up for a hike on most days, I must say I'm exhausted. We've been up all night, and I promised to help the Father with the consecration and some of the healing. Perhaps we could have a bit of a nap first?" She smiled hopefully at the others, her tired eyes tinged with a wry pleading.
            "I agree with the halfling, we should scout out the goblin camps while we still can. Mistress Amismara, you should rest here and help out. I have a feeling we will be returning to the area sooner than later. When we do, your company would be greatly appreciated". Hrolfr said.
            He turns to Master Korvut. "Many thanks to you, Master Smith, and to your dog. Now the little demons will tell us the location of their camp so we can make sure we are not caught off guard again."
            Korvut stared at Hrolfr, obviously disappointed that his dog wasn't allowed to eat a goblin. Finally he shook his head and grabbed ahold of his dog's neck, hauling the baying animal back out of the jail. Without the dog's noise, the goblins' jabbering filled the cells, and Evan and Todd could understand that the goblins thought the "longshanks" were letting them go now.
            Having watched the interrogation without interfering, one might suspect the large man of not paying attention. At the conclusion however Cael speaks up: "These little pests did do the deed, in that we all agree, but it sounds to me as if there might be some humans getting them to do it. Something to keep in mind, I should think.."
            Andok nods. "This plan worked to well to come from goblin minds. The town was completely taken by surprise. The little sharpteeth are cunning, not smart." He picks his staff up off the wall and prepares to leave. Stopping in front of Sheriff Hemlock, he gives a respectful nod. "Teach them justice, brother," he says to the sheriff in Shoanti, before exiting the jail.
            Sheriff Hemlock nodded, but replied in Taldane. "They hang after the consecration. The townsfolk will bear witness." He turned to Todd and Evan. "What did you get out of them? I couldn't hear a thing."

5


            Unfortunately for the party's plans, just as his scowl had foreshadowed, the Sheriff was opposed to anyone removing the goblins from the jail. "Following goblins into the wilderness is suicide," he said bluntly. "The little monsters will lead you into an ambush. Besides which, this town needs to see them hung. I owe it to the bereaved." He crossed his arms, looking forbidding. Well, more forbidding than usual.
            "I thank you for what you did at the Festival, but those goblins were busy looting and destroying the town, not gathered to defend their home. A handful of you have no hope of dealing with a whole goblin nest. These monsters are going to hang, and soon."
            Promised their freedom, the goblins clung to the bars of their cells, making their beady little eyes as big as possible as they blinked hopefully at the party. "Us go home now?" one asked in Goblin.
            "You are correct, of course, Sheriff", Amismara said apologetically. "Justice demands that these goblins pay for their crimes. We have clearly overstepped our authority in suggesting their release." She walked forward to place a hand on the Sheriff's crossed arms. "We too were outraged by their crimes, and wanted, perhaps selfishly, to play a role in confronting the problem at its source. More appropriately, we should have offered our services to the people and leaders of Sandpoint for them to use as they see fit. We do this now. These goblin tribes have apparently been brought together despite natural tendencies for conflict. The town will undoubtedly want to have the situation investigated, and will rightly judge the soundness of any plan. If you have concerns about releasing even a single goblin to act as a guide, we respect that. Instead, we ask for your suggestions about how we might help. We feel that we might be useful in determining the nature, scope and urgency of the threat faced by the people Sandpoint." She took her hand away from the Sheriff's arm and stood quietly with an air of mild supplication.
            Todd tugs Amismaras sleeve and whispers "Amismara, I think we also need to find out how and why the gate was open!"
            Amismara reached down and placed a hand on Todd's shoulder, pleading patience. "Gods, she's cold as a winter's day", Amismara though to herself, surprised.
            Sheriff Hemlock's stance didn't change, but something in his face softened at Amismara's offer. "You seem to know something about goblins," he said gruffly. "Then you should know you can't trust them. Still, I believe you want to help Sandpoint, and what you say is true - an investigation into the matter is called for. I doubt wandering into the wilderness will help, but... I can't be sure."
            He was silent for a moment, thinking. "I suppose that we might be able to delay hanging one of them until you return," he said slowly, his eyes measuring the party. "Just be careful, and remember to bring it back with you." He nodded to Vachedi, who opened up a cell and grabbed a squealing goblin by the back of the neck. The other goblins muttered among themselves as the scarred Shoanti locked the cell again.
            "I'd keep it tied and watch it closely if I were you. Some of them jumped off the cliffs rather than be taken last night. Try not to let people see you taking it out of town. Now I have to go, or I'll be late for the consecration. Miss Amismara, you can come with me if you like. The rest of you, good luck." The Sheriff nodded to the party and turned to leave the jail.
            "I will go with you to the consecration, Sheriff, thank you. My companions will scout..." she turned to her friends and gave them a stern but affectionate gaze "...CAREFULLY."
            You have my word that we will engage with the utmost stealth and caution!! Evan said.
            Turning back to the Sheriff Amismara smiled, adding "And then we'll all, hopefully, have a chance to sleep!"
            "If it pleases the group, I would go to this... 'consecration' as well. The gods of this place interest me, and I would learn a bit more about them." Andok said.

6


            The final consecration of the new cathedral was far more subdued than the one interrupted during the Festival. While most of the merchants had packed up and left, making the crowd smaller, it was still crowded, for the ceremony was held indoors. People made way for the burly Sheriff, and heads turned to watch Amismara and Andok as they followed in his wake. Once they had taken their places, Amismara among the acolytes aiding Father Zantus, the ceremony began.
            Father Zantus spoke at length, praising the hard work that had gone into building the cathedral and quoting passages from the chapbook he carried. He thanked the gods for watching over Sandpoint, and for giving aid to those who stood against the goblins in the raid the night before. He led the congregation in prayer for those who had fallen, and for those who lived on without them. Finally he offered up a fervent prayer that Sandpoint's hardships were over, which earned earnest amens from everyone gathered there.
            In closing, he gestured for Amismara and Andok to join him. "There were those among us who did more than their part in saving Sandpoint," he said, his kindly face wrinkling with a smile. "Two of them stand before you now, one herself a faithful follower of Shelyn. Without them and their friends, things would have gone badly for Sandpoint." He turned to the two adventurers. "Would you say a few words to the people you helped to save?" The townsfolk watched them expectantly.
            Amismara nodded slightly to Father Zanthus and then stood before the crowd. She was quiet for a few moments as she prepared her thoughts, composing herself. Slowly, she began, her voice clear and measured.
            "Good people of Sandpoint, thank you for welcoming us into your town, into your lives and into your hearts. Your kindness and hospitality in the face of strife and sorrow is an inspiration."
            She paused for a moment, looking out to the congregation, letting them see the sincerity in her eyes. She resumed, a bit faster now.
            "Shelyn teaches us that beauty comes from within: that from some inner source our love, creativity and grace can influence and shape the world. You, the people of Sandpoint, have proven this to be true.
            In the face of tragedy you have bound yourselves together; as families, as neighbors, as friends, as a town. You have manifested your love for each other in all that is visible around you: in the friendly smiles that greet a visitor; in the delicious food that you share together; in the delicate exports of your glassworks; in the very stone of this cathedral." Her blue-grey eyes continued to rove across the crowd, meeting the gaze of those she had encountered yesterday.
            "Kindness.
            Talent.
            Strength.
            All these have flowed from you, and will continue to flow, despite storm or sadness, for it is part of who you are."
            She took a more formal pose, as if she was about to pronounce an official dedication.
            "As a simple priestess of Shelyn, I bring no benediction or power of consecration greater than what you have already shown. Instead I take shelter in what you have built, in what you have re-built, and in the knowledge of what you will build. Refreshed and renewed I stand forth stronger, wiser, and happier than I would have been without you."
            At this a loving smile spread across her face. "In gratitude, I pledge myself to meet your virtue with virtue, your kindness with kindness. People of Sandpoint: thank you for being the source of such beauty. May Shelyn continue to bless and guide us all, in friendship, beauty and love. Amen."
            With that, she bowed to the townspeople, then to Father Zanthus, and then retook her place among the acolytes.
            Suddenly left alone in front of the congregation, Andok nevertheless remains at ease. "A wiser woman than I has taken all the words that were important to say - their repetition would only waste breath. I only did what was right, the same as any of you would do. To defend my generous hosts with the might of my arms was my duty, my honor, and my pleasure." Andok bows low before he also leaves the altar.
            The crowd clapped enthusiastically and began to speak among themselves, their applause and approving murmurs rising to echo against the high walls and ceiling. A few cheered, though most respected the decorum of the cathedral. The mass of people stirred, thinning as some began to leave, others making offerings at the various chapels, still others coming forward to thank Amismara and Andok in person. Father Zantus blessed the grieving and spoke with the churchgoers.
            After the ceremony, Andok approaches Father Zanthus with a reverent bow. "I beg your pardon, Father, but I noticed a symbol of one of your gods that I do not recognize. What could you tell me of it?" He points towards a symbol of Irori worn on a departing woman.
            Father Zantus looked where Andok was pointing and smiled. "Ah yes, the blue hand of Irori. Irori is our god of history, self-perfection and knowledge. I'm afraid he doesn't have many worshippers among my flock, which is why there is no chapel to him here. If you're interested in him, though, that woman is the one to ask. Her name is Sabyl Sorn, and she keeps a monastery in his honor right here in town - the House of Blue Stones, by the Glassworks. She only lets in worshippers, but I'm sure she'd be willing to meet with you in town to discuss Irori."
            A sinister-looking man, unshaven, oily-haired and hunched, took the opportunity to lurch unevenly through the crowd toward Father Zantus. "Father, I must speak with you!" he hissed, urgency on his sweating face. The Sheriff, who had been hovering nearby, frowned and moved closer.
            Father Zantus put a hand on the man's shoulder. "Calm down, Naffer. What is it?"
            "Come with me," Naffer said, pulling away and tugging at the Father's arm. "It's out in the boneyard."
            Andok immediately sets off with Naffer and the Father. "Another threat? This town has been plagued by the spirits, it seems. Do you require aid?" Andok follows, regardless of Naffer's answer.
            "No, it's a bit too late fer that," Naffer said as he led them out between the chapels of Sarenrae and Desna and into the boneyard, making a religious gesture of respect towards Sarenrae on his way out.
            The cemetery was well-maintained, with stone vaults near the edges and at the center, and dozens of humble plots marked with a gravestone among the trees and shrubberies. Not a blade of grass was out of place - until they came to a prominent grave. The elaborate headstone read, "Here lies our beloved Father Ezakien Tobyn. The fire that destroyed your church has not destroyed our faith. All you have done for Sandpoint will not be forgotten." However, the neatly manicured grass and flowers had been dug up and lay crushed beneath piles of dirt flung to all sides - and the casket beneath had been pried open, revealing...
            "He's gone!" Naffer wailed, wringing his hands. Somehow he looked more pitiful than sinister now. "Somebody done stole Father Tobyn!" Father Zantus stared at the mess in shock, while Sheriff Hemlock looked even more thunderous than usual.
            Andok looks interestedly at the empty grave. "An interesting choice for a common thief, a body. Therefore... an uncommon thief? Who might have reason to steal a priest?"
            "We have no way of knowing," Sheriff Hemlock growled, prowling around the dug-up mess. "Father Tobyn was well-loved in this town. If he had enemies, I never heard of them."
            "This is an outrage!" Father Zantus cried, shaking a fist. "Will Sandpoint never know peace?! The thief must be brought to justice!" He took several deep breaths, trying to get ahold of himself.
            Naffer wiped at the tears in his eyes with his sleeve. "At least they left Nualia's grave undefiled," he said, touching a nearby tombstone protectively. The stone, not as elaborate as Father Tobyn's but still polished and beautiful, read, "Daughter of Ezakien Tobyn and child of the Gods, beauty and grace too fine for this world. The Gods have called her home."
            Horrible as the priest and his man found the crime, the Sheriff could not delay long. They agreed to keep the theft quiet for the time being for the sake of the citizens, and asked Andok to do the same. Then the Sheriff took his leave.
            It was time for a hanging.

7


            Having had a moment to gather his wits, Hrolfr thinks twice about going after the goblins without the support of the spellcasters. During the consecration, he goes to the inn and gathers his things, his mail shirt and his battleax (the second two were much missed during combat the previous day). He packs most of it into his backpack, and secures the rest on the outside. He then walks back to the jailhouse, all the while thinking about how to get the goblin out of town. "Driving out of town on a cart with the Goblin under a sheet of tarpaulin or in a barrel might work, if we could only find a way to put it to sleep for long enough". He continues this train of thought all the way to the office, deciding to ask his newfound friends after he attends the hanging.
            "There'll be ten green goblins hanging on the wall..." Todd goes to the hanging.
            Amismara smiled wearily at Todd's macabre ditty, but begged out of the hanging. She wasn't up for anymore death today. She headed back to the room she shared with a number of others at the inn and collapsed backward onto the small bed. She was too tired to take off her boots, so she kept her legs hanging slightly over the edge of the bed.

8


            Todd, Hrolfr, Cain and Evan stood in the crowd that had gathered outside the town, past the mirror and signpost that read, "Welcome to Sandpoint! Please stop to see yourself as we see you!" They were some distance from the north wall, near a tree with wide-spreading branches. Nooses had been slung over a stout branch, the other end tied to two mules wearing blinders so that they wouldn't spook at the sight of the goblins. The mood was ugly, but enterprising Varisians were selling food and souvenirs of the hanging, and the crowd wasn't so angry that they weren't pleased to see the adventurers who had saved so many of them. Backs were slapped, hands were shaken, and promises of drinks to be bought were many, and the adventurers were right at the front of the crowd when the Sheriff and his men brought the roped-together goblins out of town.
            The goblins wailed and cried and had to be dragged the last bit of the way to the nooses, but only Todd (and Evan, if he's there) could understand their words. They were shrieking that they had been promised their freedom and were begging for mercy. The mules shifted nervously at the sound of goblin screaming, but Hosk had them in hand and soothed them even as he looked on with grim satisfaction as the nooses were fitted over the oversized goblin heads and tightened around their little necks by the town guards, Ancera, Nakrimor and Yngar.
            As the three guards finished their work and stepped away, rotten vegetables and small rocks pelted the squirming goblins, and Sheriff Hemlock had to raise his deep voice to call for order. Mayor Deverin stepped forward, wearing a sober gray brocade dress, and everyone fell silent to hear what she had to say.
            "Sandpoint has suffered much over the short years since its founding, but we have always stood firm in the face of adversity. We tolerate no monsters, and we tolerate no crime. These goblins will pay for their crimes with their lives," she said curtly, and held her hand up to still the cheer that rose.
            "There are those among us who did more than their part to clear our streets of this vermin during the raid. I speak of our brave town guards, who rose to the challenge - and I speak of the adventurers standing before you, who saved lives without ties to our town." She smiled at the party, and let the cheers die down on their own before continuing.
            "You have earned the right to be the end of these monsters. Come, speak a few words to us, Heroes of Sandpoint, and then you may set the mules running."
            When none of the adventurers responded, the Mayor smiled. "It seems our heroes are shy! Very well, then. Sheriff Hemlock, if you would-"
            "Wait!" someone called from the audience. People drew back to let the speaker through, revealing Hosk, the man the group had met at the Goblin Toss game. He looked grim now as he approached the mayor, shooting a hateful look at the goblins. "I done killed a few goblins in my time, as you all know. There's something yet undone here. Mayor, will you give me a few seconds to talk to the goblins?"
            Looking a little confused, the Mayor nodded. The crowd murmured as Hosk leaned down and spoke to the goblins for a few minutes. Then he suddenly rose, stepped back, and triumphantly pulled a sheet of paper and a stick of charcoal from his pouch. The goblins, relatively quiet until then, shrieked and howled madly as he carefully wrote something down, then returned to the audience, looking satisfied. "All right, Kendra, I'm done," he said with a wave to the mayor.
            Everyone around seemed mystified, but the Mayor carried on. She gave the nod to Sheriff Hemlock, who swatted at the mules to get them moving. The goblins rose up to dangle from their necks under the great tree limb, their cries cut off and replaced by kicking and jerking. A cheer rose from the crowd, and people jeered and pointed at the hanging goblins. Hosk stood watching them with his arms folded and his eyes narrowed until the last goblin stopped kicking and the crowd began to disperse.

9


            The White Deer was a tall new building, three stories high, and the room Andok shared with two other guests offered an impressive view of the Varisian Gulf from the window. The innkeep, gruff Master Viskalai, saw Andok to his room himself and made sure that the other Shoanti was satisfied before leaving to go to the hanging.
            Andok was feeling the effect of having been up for over 24 hours by the time the tramping of feet signaled the return of guests to their rooms after the goblin hanging. Weary though he was, he left the White Deer in search of the monastery to Irori that Father Zantus had spoken of.
            Asking around led him down Main Street and through Rat Alley to the House of Blue Stones, a long stone building tucked in next to the Glassworks. He knocked at the door and was met by a young monk, who explained that admittance depended on what Sabyl Sorn thought of him before going to fetch her.
            Sorn was a slender dark-haired woman who projected an air of calm and peace around her. She smiled up at the Shoanti as she stepped out onto Sand Street with him, closing the door behind her. "One of the Sandpoint Heroes - a pleasant surprise. I'm afraid I didn't catch your name, though. What can I do for you?"
            Andok bows low to Sorn as she addresses him. "My name is Andok, Lady Sorn, one of the Shaonti known as the Sun Clan in your tongue. I come to ask you of your master Irori - I saw a holy symbol of his worn in the cathedral and was struck by it's elegant simplicity. While many of my brothers find their faith in the form of the natural world and the spirits that guide it, I am not among them - I prefer the path of looking inside oneself for strength and wisdom. I believe the holy symbol spoke to me for a reason - I am here to see whether my suspicions were correct."
            A smile like sunshine broke over Sorn's face. "If you seek to learn more of the path of the Master of Masters, I'm more than happy to oblige." She gave him a shrewd look. "I can see that you're tired. Please, enter the House of Blue Stones and rest, and we'll speak about what Irori has to offer the faithful."

10


            The inside of the House of Blue Stones was primarily a single large chamber, the floor decorated with polished blue stones set within winding pathways of reed mats. Here and there, men and women in loose clothing and bare feet sat by themselves, seemingly staring off into nothing or sleeping sitting up. Finding an empty spot a fair distance from the others, Sorn gestured for Andok to sit, doing likewise herself.
            "I don't know how much you've already heard of Irori," she began, her voice low so that it wouldn't disturb the others. Sunlight slanted in through the high windows, making her short, dark red hair glow like fire. "Our teachings tell us that he was once a mortal man of Vudra, so devoted to the perfection of body and mind that at last he acheived it, and thus attained divinity. Here we try to follow his teachings, so that we can purify our life-force. We study the past in the library below the House, and we train our bodies to be all that they are capable of. It is said that those who rise to the rank of Master go to Irori's side in the afterlife to serve him forever. If one fails to acheive this rank, one is reborn to try again. It is a never-ending journey, either way."
            The toll of the cathedral bells signaled noon, and as one the men and women who had been so still and quiet rose and began to spar with one another, a few with wooden weapons but most bare-handed, throwing punches and kicks at each other. Sorn smiled at Andok, raising her voice to a normal level. "If you're interested in Irori's path of knowledge, history and self-perfection, you're welcome to come here to meditate, spar and learn with us."
            Andok watches the sparring silently for a few moments, digesting what he has been told. After a moment, he gives a smile and rises. "It's almost a feeling of home-coming, without ever having known such a place existed," he says to himself. He looks towards Sorn with rapturously joyful eyes. "It would be an honor for myself to train amongst these people, to seek perfection inside myself alongside your faithful." The Shoanti within him does keep drawing his eyes back towards the sparring combatants. "Would it be presumptuous of me to request a test of my skills against one of your flock, Mistress Sorn?"
            Sorn laughed, delighted. "Not in the least, though I do ask that you go about it bare-handed. Accidents among our novices do happen on occasion, especially when they're tired, and we prefer that they not be too severe." She smiled to take the sting from suggesting he might slip up, and gestured towards the sparring mats. "You're free to pick an opponent. Let Irori guide your heart."
            Andok takes a long moment scanning the temple, watching the dedicated of Irori battle. He gives a loud booming laugh. "Then I will choose no one for my opponent. It has been a long few suns, and it would be a disservice to myself and the art you practice here to enter into this at any less than my finest. Perhaps another day." He gives a wan, but genuine smile. "Perhaps I could take some reading in order to meditate upon the mystery of Irori before I arrive here again?"
            "Already you display wisdom many who come here don't," Sorn answered with a smile. "If you seek to read of Irori's many paths, we have a library here that may help you. You are welcome to use it, though the writings must remain here. I look forward to seeing you again, Andok of the Sun Clan."
            Andok gives her a fond farewell, promising to return to the place in a few days.

11


           

Rova 3: Toilday


            There was a lot of rambunctious noise at the Rusty Dragon, as people sang and told stories in an effort to gain a discount on their stay and stomped up and down the stairs and went in and out of the rooms, which were shared among a number of guests each. Still, it was a convivial atmosphere, not made less by the enthusiastic praise of the guests whenever those in the party emerged from their rooms.
            A breakfast of spicy eggs and buttered bread dusted with cinnamon and sugar later, Amismara and the others stepped out into the sunshine. Next door, the sound and smell of horses suggested that might be where they could find a mule to enact their plan for smuggling the goblin out of town. A sign over the door showed a goblin being trampled by a horse, and 'Goblin Squash Stables' was carved above the picture.
            The master of the stable turned out to be none other than Hosk, who approached the party with a beaming smile and arms raised in welcome. "Heroes!" he bellowed, and stable boys popped out of the woodwork to stare. "A fine morning to you, this and every day!" He paused as Silverpaw padded in beside Cael, glancing back at the stables. "It might be best if your wolf there didn't go any closer - the horses might spook. But all of you are welcome! What brings you here this fine day?"
            "Such a welcome, master Hosk, and we shall return everyday just to hear it!" Amismara laughed. "However, today we have business as well. We hope to scout the nearby lands for the goblin nest, and we feel in need of a pack mule to carry some necessary supplies. Might we hire one from you? And if so, what are your terms of trade?"
            She turned and placed a hand on Silverpaw's back, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. "The wolf would be willing to put Cael up as collateral, should such a bond be necessary."
            Hosk laughed heartily, waving a hand in dismissal. "Your wolf offers a fine bargain, but I'm happy to say that sort of thing isn't necessary for the Heroes of Sandpoint, much less after providing us with a genuine goblin hangin' yesterday! To tell the truth, Lord Foxglove just brought in half a herd of horses, so I could use the extra space in any case. And for a cause as noble as yours, goblin hunters, I'll drop the fee for the mule and a pack saddle to go with it, and only charge you for the feed it'll need."
            He brushed a hand through his graying hair and stepped closer, offering Amismara his arm with a bright smile. "If you'll come with me to my office, I'll see about getting you the feed you need while the lads fetch and saddle a good mule. Fencechewer, maybe." He nodded to one of the boys dawdling nearby, who immediately set off to do as Hosk had said.

12


            Andok pads along quietly with the party as they seek out mounts for the goblin-hunting, about as talkative as the wolf that walks with them. He watches quietly as they converse with Hosk.
            As they passed under the eaves of the stable, they noticed the nearby covered barn was decorated with a grisly display of dozens of leathery goblin ears nailed to three different rafters. Noticing their looks, Hosk said proudly, "Every one of 'em is marked with the goblin's name. They hate that. Think it steals their souls. I used to be quite a hunter myself, y'see. Too old for it now, but I took out my share when I was younger, like you. Here, see?" He opened the door to his office and waited as everyone went in.
            It was like any other office, with ledgers on shelves and everything tucked neatly away in its place. The thing that caught the eye, however, was an enormous glass bottle filled with brine - and the body of an atrociously ugly goblin, stitched-together armor and all. Its dead eyes watched them as Hosk took a seat at the table and opened a ledger.
            "Don't mind Chief Whartus there. Last of its tribe," Hosk said with satisfaction. "Yep, I done my share of goblin huntin'. All the same, I don't recommend going up against a whole nest. There must be half a dozen of them scattered around these parts, full of traps and whatnot. They're better to pick off a few at a time. Slow and steady gets it done." He busied himself scribbling in his ledger for a bit.
            Amismara began to grimace as she saw the remains of Chief Whartus, but she quickly plastered over it with a weak smile. "Yes, that's good advice", she agreed, moving her eyes to view something un-embalmed. "We shall heed it. Slow and steady. Yes."
            Quietly eyeing the grotesque goblin "trophies", Cael's attention shifts onto the business at hand. "'tis good advice indeed, being as even the a ferocious bear can be overwhealmed by a nest of agry bees in great numbers."
            "That's exactly right!" Hosk said with a smile, but it was a bitter smile.
            "This Whartus seems a mighty foe, by the little biter's standards," Andok comments, peering into the jar with a detached interest. "How many strong was his warren of goblins?"
            Hosk slapped his ledger closed and rose to walk over to the glass bottle, giving it a pat. It made the goblin within bob a little, as though agreeing. "Yep, he was a tough one, no doubt about that. A coward, like they all are, but desperate. Got to watch 'em when they're desperate. Like rats in a trap. I reckon I got a few dozen of 'em, all told. And their names," he said with bitter satisfaction.

13


            Hosk wished them the best of luck goblin hunting, seeing to it that they received the two day's worth of feed that Amismara paid for. Fencechewer was a brown mule that clopped after them easily enough to the garrison, only balking when Silverpaw came too close, thanks to the blinders Hosk had thoughtfully provided. On the way, they passed a bakery (Sandpoint Savories, the sign proclaimed) where a large, doughy-armed woman in an apron came rushing out with a loaf of sweetbread, bearing down on Evan. "You poor dear, you look half-starved!" she cried, pushing the bread into his arms. "You eat that up now, we can't have you dwindling away to nothing from hunger!" She smiled at them all, waving flour-dusted hands as they went on their way.
            Once at the garrison, though, another problem became apparent: How could they smuggle the goblin into the mule's pack saddle without anyone seeing them? They could hardly take the mule down into the jail, and the garrison was busy with people coming and going on various errands. It might also seem strange to unsaddle the mule and take the saddlebags down.
            At the garrison, Andok stands for a moment, pondering the issue of the goblin captives. "Perhaps if we knock them unconscious and bring them out to the mules," he says to his companions. "Any who might ask what we are doing - we are simply taking the ones that were not hearty enough for our interrogations. That should be properly bloody for their sense of justice."
            "This is a wise plan. If I may suggest that you knock them unconscious. It seems you might be more adept, and thus less cruel." Amismara said.
            Andok's plan worked like a charm. The Shoanti jailor Vachedi silently let them in, watching without comment as they subdued the frightened goblin (narrowly avoiding some bad bites). As expected, those who saw them emerge with the limp goblin were curious as to what was going on, but accepted the party's lies easily enough.
            In short order the goblin was dumped into the mule's saddlebags and the party left the town behind, people waving to them and children laughing and running after them for a ways. Once they were in the countryside, hopefully far enough from prying eyes, they unloaded the goblin. It lay in the dirt, its tongue dangling out of its oversized mouth.
            Amismara asks for help tying up the unconscious goblin, and then sees if she can't provide some help to the poor beast. She was loathe to use any of her healing magic (figuring they would need it later themselves), but she did her best to treat the goblin's wounds as best she could.
            "I'll need to get a healer's kit sometime. My parents always had one, and now I see that I miss it."
            As she held a wet cloth to the rough, green skin, she looked up at her companions. "I'm afraid I'm not good at traveling cross-country. I'm used to roads and inns and signposts."
            Hrolfr, who has been nursing a ear-epic hangover, grunts in response and pulls his pack off his shoulder. He removes a loop of hempen rope off the side of the pack and ties the unconscious goblin's hands together, then loops the robe around its' waist and ties a knot at the back. He lets out around 20 feet of rope and ties a fist-sized butterfly loop in the middle section. The rest of the rope, he coils and attaches to his backpack.
            He squints his eyes in response to the morning sun, and utters his first syllable of the day. "We need to wake the little demon up. Its warren could be anywhere, so we need it to lead us to it."
            Under Amismara's ministrations the goblin eventually came to, looking groggy for all of five seconds. Hrolfr's precautions proved wise, as it leapt to its feet and tried to run off immediately, only to sproing back when the rope tied around it went taut. It began to wail and roll around in the dust (which didn't help Hrolfr's hangover at all), Todd and Evan recognizing its cries for pleas to be let go. Todd translated for the group, not looking particularly moved.
            Amismara tilted her head and grimaced at the goblin's wailing, but couldn't stop a small laugh at Hrolfr's discomfort. "I should have been taking care of you, friend", she said warmly as she put a comforting hand on his arm.
            Furrowing his brow even further, Hrolfr pulls on the rope. "Tell the little bugger that if it does not stop wailing, we will take it back to Sandpoint at once. Tell it that ... that it must lead us to its warren. If it does not, we will take it back to Sandpoint."
            When Todd translated this, the goblin clapped its hands over its mouth - or at least tried to, goblin heads and goblin mouths being pretty big. It looked around at the circle of adventurers with beady eyes, focusing on Amismara. "Pretty lady let Rottooth go then?" it simpered pleadingly at her in Goblin.
            As the goblin looked up at her expectantly, she looked back for a very long time. She wanted to feel compassion, to be able to see the good in this "Rottooth", to feel a desire to redeem. But she didn't. As memories of the goblins' viscous attack filled her mind, she felt only anger. It rose up in her fast, and she was alarmed by its vehemence.
            She smiled as best she could and looked down at the pathetic creature. She took a short breath, and lied. "Yes, then I'll let you go", she said slowly, holding her false smile still while Todd translated.
            "we are?" Todd asked, adding in Goblin, "She says we let You go"
            "If we've told it we are, then we are," Andok says firmly. "The goblins will never learn anything but savagery if that's all we ever show them."
            Rottooth eyed her, then smiled widely, revealing the reason for his name. "You follow, we find lair," he promised, tugging at the rope.
            Hrolfr speaks quietly. "The unwise man ponders all night, and is tired come morning. We would do well to let this play out as the fates intend." He stands a bit straighter and looks directly at the goblin. "Todd....tell it to take it straight to its lair. Any tricks, and I will split it in half." He sticks the haft of his greataxe into the ground for emphasis.

14

He set off away from the road, heading south and east, across the Turandarok River and along the great limestone escarpment the locals called the Devil's Platter. Finally they came to a hollow in the Platter with a lake at the bottom. Rottooth indicated that the goblin lair lay at the other end, then turned his hideous smile on them again. "You let Rottooth go now, right?"
            Andok looks at the goblin as it chatters unintelligibly - though it's words are gibberish, it's meaning is clear. "It's done it's part - let us do ours," he says to his friends. He begins setting off down the eastern path as stealthily as he can.
            "The goblins will never learn anything but savagery... because they are vermin and should be exterminated! We can not let it go for real, it will run back and get all it's fellow vermin and try to exterminate us!" Todd argued.
            Amismara grimaced at Todd's vehemence. And she felt a bit ashamed by Andok's wisdom. "He's right, Todd. We're not responsible for what he does, only what we do. We should let the goblin go, as I 'promised'. But not before we search this place where he's led us. I must admit, I don't trust him. If this is, in fact, a goblin lair, it's probably not his tribe's. Let's tie him up briefly and examine the place. If he's been truthful, we'll let him go." She felt the pain of a poor compromise, and it sat poorly with her.
            Rottooth was dismayed when they tied him up, yelling that they had promised to let him go. They left him propped up next to a tree and made their way into the undergrowth on the east side of the lake, Evan thirty feet in the lead.

15


            The going was slow, especially as they were taking care to move quietly, and Evan would often disappear behind the thick bushes and brambles. The cool shade helped Hrolfr's massive hangover a bit. They had made it about two thirds of the way along the lake when Evan hopped over a fallen log and a mass of fleshy coils dropped over him. He managed to twist free, only to find a long, thick-bodied snake coming after him. It struck at him but missed, coiling silently for another strike.
            "Something is attacking Evan!" Amismara yelped in surprise. With that, she began pushing through the underbrush as fast as she could, choking up on her glaive to keep it from getting tangled in the thick terrain.
            "Something is attacking Evan!" Amismara yelped in surprise. With that, she began pushing through the underbrush as fast as she could, choking up on her glaive to keep it from getting tangled in the thick terrain.
            Evan began trying to circle around the snake to reach his friends again, but the rough terrain and his heavy pack slowed him significantly. The snake struck at him as he scrambled away, wrapping around him in the blink of an eye and squeezing until he couldn't breathe and his bones creaked.
            Hrolfr will drop his greataxe and move towards the snake while drawing his shortsword.
            Amismara's shout alerts Andok. He silently begins to stride purposefully through the underbrush towards the snake and his little companion.
            Sensing the approaching adventurers, the snake opened its jaws in a silent hiss at them, its coils rolling Evan ever tighter. Amismara and Andok, who were closest, could hear the horrible sound of cracking bones.
            Todd extends her hand and sends off an icicle towards the snake.
            Struggling forward as fast as her short legs would carry her, her long scarf snagging on roots and branches, Todd just managed to get a glimpse of the snake. A glimpse was all she needed. An icicle shot from her hand, stabbing into the snake's thick coils, making it writhe in silent pain.
            Amismara swept her glaive at the snake, splitting its side open. Hrolfr ran up to plant his shortsword in the huge serpent as well. Badly wounded, the snake's coils loosened, spilling out Evan's limp hand.
            Andok's blood chills at the sounds coming from the snake - he charges forward, quarterstaff whirling, to strike the serpent.
            His quarterstaff came down on the snake's head with a crunch, and it released Evan, trying to slither off toward the lake.
            Evan was crushed black and blue; he looked terrible, lying there with blood seeping from his nose, mouth and ears.
            Hrolfr brings his shortswort up in an underhand swing, aiming for the snake's head.
            The wounded animal was easily dispatched, its body twisting a bit after its beheading before lying still.
            As the party rushes around the fallen halfling, Andok keeps his staff drawn, peering nervously into the surrounding underbrush for any other potential threats.
            The heavy underbrush remained quiet, with no sign of further trouble. (Then again, there was no sign of trouble before the snake dropped on Evan, either.) Meanwhile, Amismara tried to bless Evan with Shelyn's grace, but it was too late for the little man.
            "We should get moving," Andok says gruffly - clearly the combat and the death has made him uneasy. "I would sooner bring the battle to the goblins, then have them come here to find us."

16


            Evan's death was a sobering reminder of the dangers of the wilderness, and Cain and Todd took it on themselves to return the body to Evan's home, wherever that might be. They made their way back through the tangled undergrowth and trees as Hrolfr, Andok and Amismara pushed on, with Andok in the lead.
            Eventually the tangle of trees and underbrush came to an end, revealing the cliff wall beyond it and the shore of the lake, no more than thirty-five feet or so from the cliff. Receding into the base of the cliff was a dark earthen tunnel with piles of rocks and dirt strewn about the opening. Along the cliff face to the south of this entrance and approximately ten feet up from the ground, a second opening was plainly visible atop a small ledge. Perched on the edge of the ledge was a goblin, lazily scratching the ears of a goblin dog beside it. It didn't appear to have seen Andok.
            Amismara strained to see over the and through the foliage towards Andok. She worried about him, but knew she didn't have the skills to approach quietly.
            "Dance forward with a flourish, yes. Sneak forward quietly, no", she thought to herself. "Stay still, they'll let you know when he's ready."
            Hrolfr slows his pace and goes into a semi-crouch. He carefully puts his greataxe on the ground and takes his longbow from his back, pulling a broad-headed hunting arrow from his quiver. He then puts the arrow on to the string but does not draw it. He then tries to get eye contact with Andok.
            Amismara caught a glimpse of Hrolfr's long arm as he pulled forth the bow and arrow. She readied herself to move forward quickly at the first sign from her friends.
            Andok makes a sign to his two companions behind him to stay still as he creeps back carefully, treading as silently as he can.
            'There are two, a goblin and one of their dog-like abominations,' the monk whispers. 'They're far from cover - so we shall have to either draw them out or go in after them.'
            Hrolfr keeps his eyes on the goblin and its dog. "Luring them out seems the better idea. What will we use for bait?"
            "Perhaps one of us," the monk says. He looks about the party, mentally measuring their menace. "Amismara, would you be comfortable being living bait? I will wait as close as I can, so you won't be unprotected - you would just be a brief target."
            Amismara blinked at the monk for a moment while she considered the plan. "We'll, my parents always said I should be an actress", she whispered with a nervous smile. After a few deep breaths, she began to walk into the open, pretending to be confused, lost and wounded.
            Her act couldn't have been more convincing; Cyrdak Drokkus from Sandpoint probably would have hired her on the spot. The goblin clamped a hand around the goblin-dog's snout and slowly backed into the recesses of the tunnel.
            When Amismara got far enough, she could see into the main tunnel opening a ways. She spotted movement - chillingly, what appeared to be several goblins, sneaking peeks out from around an outcropping. There was deathly silence from the tunnel.
            Continuing her charade as best she could, she began to struggle away from the tunnel with an feigned limp, hoping to draw the goblins out after her and towards her concealed friends.
            The goblins bought her act hook, line and sinker. Suddenly they came pouring out of the tunnel, jabbering excitedly and waving dogslicers. Their goblin dog yapped and growled, chasing after Amismara and running ahead of the goblins - none of them seemed to notice her companions hiding in the bushes nearby.
            Andok steps forward, swinging his quarterstaff as hard as he can at the unexpecting goblin dog. He forms a whirling defense from his furious attacks, weaving the wood of his staff around him.
            Upon seeing the goblins chase Amismara, Hrolfr draws his longbow and waits for a good shot. When he has loosed his arrow at the passing goblin dog, he will drop the bow, grab his greataxe and charge screaming at the group of goblins.
            As the goblins and their horrible dog approached, Amismara finally gave up her ruse. Turning resolutely, she swung her glaive into a defensive position.
            "Shelyn! Watch over me as I fight side by side with my friends!" At this she was rustled by a sweet-smelling breeze and her blue scarf twirled briefly behind her.
            Andok popped out of the bushes and made a textbook swing at the goblin dog - but his caution made him hesitate just a moment too long, and the ugly mongrel reflexively jerked back at his appearance, making him miss. However, despite having to fire around Amismara, Hrolfr's arrow took the beast in the chest, and it yelped shrilly.
            The goblins immediately began shouting something, sounding alarmed, and two leapt at Andok, getting past his spinning quarterstaff to slash at his legs with dogslicers, opening ugly gashes. The other two went after what looked to them like easier prey: Amismara. One approached but hung back for the moment, licking its dogslicer and grinning at Amismara obscenely. The other rushed in to attack her - only to find that she wasn't nearly as helpless as they had assumed. Her glaive swept out and more or less gutted the astonished goblin, who fell to the ground twitching.
            Having abandoned caution, Andok's whirling staff slammed the goblin dog hard under the chin, sending it sprawling in the dirt. Hrolfr dropped his bow and came screaming at the goblin near Amismara with his axe raised high, easily avoiding its startled attack and gashing it deeply in the chest.
            The goblins attacking Andok were too stupid to notice the fight going against them, encouraged by the blows they were landing on Andok as they circled around him. The goblin Hrolfr and Amismara were dealing with, however, clearly didn't like the odds turning on it. It backed away warily, gasping something to the others as it ran back toward the tunnel.
            Cursing the weakness in his form that has allowed the goblins to so best him, he watches the fleeing goblin in an almost predatory way. "Your time will come, little one," he vows under his breath in Shoanti. Stepping out from between the goblins that flank him, he traps one between his whirling staff and Amismara's questing staff. Swinging cautiously, he seeks to defend himself from any further wounds.
            Grabbing his axe, Hrolfr runs after the goblin going into the tunnels. "I'll hold the cavemouth, keep these ones off my back!"
            Amismara swore softly as she saw the one goblin withdraw. Disappointed that their surprise wasn't complete, but much more concerned about Andok, she positioned herself to land another blow with her glaive.
            Hrolfr charged after the fleeing goblin, cutting it down with his axe just as it looked over its shoulder to see if it was safe. Glancing up, Hrolfr could see that the tunnel widened and opened to either side further in, though it was very dim and darkened to blackness at the back.
            Suddenly realizing its peril, the manic little monster Amismara had targeted leapt over her cutting glaive, then ducked another jab as it turned to run off, heading towards the narrow path on the far side of the lake.
            Abandoned, the last goblin screeched something and darted off into the bushes in the direction the group had come from, disappearing into the underbrush.

17


            Fangess came to slowly, wondering what kind of flophouse she was in that had so hard a bed and was so noisy. The realization that her hands and feet were tied brought her around in a hurry, though. The air stank, and gradually she could make out small bodies running about in the faint reddish light of a fire burned low. Then it all came back to her: she had been on the road with Avelia, headed to Sandpoint for the Swallowtail Festival, when they were assaulted by goblins. She could make out the other woman's body lying nearby, tied just like she was.
            fangess wished she could nurse the dull pain on the back of her neck; whoever knocked her out sure did put his all in. she was more annoyed than worried about her predicament at the moment; annoyed with herself having had her guard down and be taken like this. she noticed a lass on the floor beside her, in the same predicament...
            "missie! psst! missie, are you alive?" fangess scooted over to the other captive and studied the binding, then attempted to undo her own.
            she could feel numbing pain everywhere on her body, now that the excitement has subdued and the adrenaline has leveled out. 'this is a fine mess you've been presented, fang,' she mumbles to herself. 'i suppose it's better than what was presented, that last incident: no opportunities there!'
            There was no response from Avelia. She was either unconscious or already dead. Fangess set to squirming out of her bonds, which unfortunately attracted attention. The goblins exclaimed and came over to kick her, laughing in their high-pitched voices and stomping on her fingers when they could. They finally left off when she went limp, cackling to themselves as they prodded her a few times for good measure, then went back to whatever it was they were doing before. Squinting through a swelling eye, she realized they were squabbling over her possessions!
            Unfortunately for them, all the thrashing seemed to have loosened her bonds a bit. Moving slowly, she pulled her hands free of the rope.
            fangess fumed as she watched as the goblins rifled through her belongings. 'i'm gonna let you all have a taste of drow badness when i get a chance!' the fresh pain overshadowed the old one. her head hurt; they weren't discriminating in their browbeating, these walking-orge-dung-heaps.
            she remained on the floor, feigning still being bound. she discreetly scanned the area, studying it, looking for an exit and/or escape possibilities, and also for anything near her to use as a weapon. she counted and tracked their positions.
            The goblins seemed to mostly be engaged in something to do with a small body lying across the firepit from her. One was gleefully sharpening a stake with what looked like a rusty cleaver with big holes drilled along the blade. She couldn't be sure of how many goblins were there in the dim, flickering light; they ran about willy-nilly, confusing her count, but there had to be at least a handful, and some hideous balding rat-looking things the size of dogs gnawing on bones here and there.
            There were some small bones scattered near her, but nothing that looked too weapon-like besides what the rat-things were chewing. Those, on the other hand, looked uncomfortably human. She counted two tunnels leading from the cave, and rotting hide hangings over what had to be two more. Four possible exits, then - but goblins running back and forth in front of them all.
            'too much activities! i cannot risk getting overwhelmed and bound again...'
            fangess continued to feign helplessness, waiting for an opportunity...

18

Hrolfr looks warily inside the goblin's cave. He pulls off his backpack and pulls out a torch and tinderbox. He lights the torch, and holds it in his right hand, while drawing his short sword with his right.
            Amismara watched the two goblins flee with a mix of relief and trepidation: relief that they were gone, but trepidation that they might return at an inopportune time.
            Looking to Andok, she smiled hopefully. "Maybe they'll keep running for a while. In the meantime, we better catch up with Hrolfr."
            With that, she started over towards where the large Ulfen was lighting his torch.
            "It would take a brave goblin to return to a cave he fled once," Andok says. "Thankfully, the small ones are not well-known for bravery." Leaning on his staff to keep himself moving despite his wounds, he joins the other two at the cave entrance.
            Stepping into the darkness of the tunnel, the three saw that it quickly opened into a large chamber, about twelve feet high. To their left, a slab of stone and four small boulders appeared to serve as a makeshift table and chairs; a number of tiny painted bones (from what, they didn't want to speculate) were scattered on top of the table. It seemed the group had interrupted a goblin game. Beyond the table was a pile of rocks, set up as if to hide behind.
            To their right, a roughly carved stairway ascended into darkness behind another pile of rocks. Ahead of them, the passage narrowed again and descended. Faint, muffled goblin voices could be heard from below.
            Amismara whispered to Hrolfr and Andok. "Well, if we're here to hunt goblins, I suggest we go down towards their voices."
            The Shoanti nods, silently agreeing, as he listens for which direction the noises of the enemy are coming from.
            They followed the noises down a winding passage of roughly hewn stairs, their lantern revealing an earthy cave that rose to twelve feet in height. It was strewn with matted dried grass and dirty straw. At the far end, another passage continued deeper into the cliff. The muffled noise of goblin chatter and singing was louder here.
            As they traveled further down the passage, Amismara realized she was beginning to sweat from the tension. Whispering again to Andok and Hrolfr she said "These narrow passages will help us against their greater numbers. Stay close in front, and the goddess and I can help protect you."
            Andok nods tensely, quarterstaff at the ready, following Hrolfr into the tunnels.
            Hrolfr holds the lantern high and keeps walking down the stairs, sword ready to strike. "They will not pass us. We'll give them a lesson they won't soon forget."
            As Hrolfr moved through the cave, he suddenly lurched forward, his foot punching through the straw into empty space. With catlike reflexes he managed to jump back into Andok and Amismara's arms, not even spilling any oil from his lantern, as the straw sagged and fell into a pit lined with sharp rocks.
            "See", Amismara whispered in amused relief, "I told you we'd protect you!"
            Edging around the pit, they could see that the passage ahead terminated in what looked like a rotting hide curtain, behind which goblin voices chattered and sang (if you could call it singing).
            She met Andok's and Hrolf's gazes, confirming that everyone was ready. "Andok! You're bleeding! Oh, you brave man. Please let me know when you are so hurt!" She touched the Shoanti, and the pain of his wounds immediately lessened, then vanished entirely.
            Andok gives a terse nod to the other two. "Spirits protect us," he says quietly. "Let us teach them a warrior's justice."
            Hrolfr looks at his two companions and whispers "When you are ready". After having assured himself of his comrades' readiness, he stands up and draws a deep breath, forcefully pushes through the curtain and gives out a deep booming war-cry, sword held ready.

19


            Nacklewocket came to with the awful sound of goblins singing all around him.
"We be Birdcrunchers! We be strong!
Knowed you hid there all along!
Chew you up and eat you good!
We be goblins, you be food!"
            Opening one eye a crack, he could see one preparing a stake, presumably to spit him over the low coals of their firepit if its obscene gesturing toward him was any indication. More interestingly, across the firepit from him was a halfling woman whose hand-ropes seemed to have come untied.
            Oh, that was right. He was tied hand and foot, too... but not too tightly. Stupid goblins.
            Well this is a rather new experience, Nacklewocket thought. I daresay I've never been eaten before.

20


            Fangess wasn't sure, but she could have sworn she saw a flicker of light from behind one of the rotting hides. It seemed her opportunity was close at hand...
            she turned to scan the remains of bones -- as much as she dislike the idea of handling them -- she looked for a shard to serve as a dagger, or a nice sturdy one to club, then noticed the other bound figure was not a lass, but a... i can't quite make it out!
            "pst! pst! can you hear me? i am fangess ogrefell," she whispers. "if you can hear me, i am getting ready to make a move.... i think i see a flicker of light on the other side of that hide curtain over there -- and it may not be part of this bunch.
            my hands are actually free; i am going for that pile of bones over there to grab a make-shift weapon! can you see it? can you hear me?..."
            Given that Fangess was across the room from Nacklewocket and trying to be heard over the noise of the goblins, her "whisper" was necessarily loud. A couple of the goblins turned to look at her...
            Given that the halfling woman appeared prepared to do something rash and possibly heroic, and that he himself wasn't in a position to do much but lay there at present, Nacklewocket figured he could at least pose as some sort of distraction. Opening his eyes wide, he looked up accusingly at the goblins above him.
"You be Birdcrunchers, but you wrong," he called up at them in Goblin.
"Me from tribe with many dogs.
Set me free, right now you should,
Else dogs come, and you be food!"
            At the same time, Nacklewocket wiggled his fingers as much as possible, hoping he could at the very least slip his hands out of the ropes without letting the goblins know he had done so.
            'what in the...
            "are you crazy?! ... oh, you're a gnome: yes, you are! you're bound! they're gonna kick the merriment out of ya!" fangess eyed the goblins' reaction to the gnome's provocation, readying to react to whatever opportunities may present themselves...
            The goblins gaped at their singing meal, forgetting Fangess altogether in their surprise. Then light suddenly flooded the room as a bunch of humans burst in with a roar.
            There was utter pandemonium as goblins ran back and forth in a panic, smacking into each other and yelling. One tripped and fell into the firepit, then leapt out screeching and trying to put out the fire in its ragged clothes. The goblin dog bounced up and began yapping furiously. The goblin using Fangess' rapier to roast whole pigeons over the fire dropped the blade into the firepit. The air was thick with the smell of unwashed bodies, smoke and rotting meat. Everything happened at once:
            Andok strode through the panicking goblins, trapping one between himself and Hrolfr. Amismara stood just inside the uncured hide curtain, jabbing her glaive past Hrolfr to stick the unfortunate goblin, skewering it. Fangess hopped to her feet as Nacklewocket used the confusion to wriggle his hands out of his loosening bindings. Hrolfr turned on the closest goblin and lashed out with his shortsword in one hand and the brightly shining lantern in the other, stabbing it and letting it slide off his blade with a gurgle.
            Several goblins ran at Andok, lunging across the firepit and popping out of niches in the walls with their dogslicers held high, but the Shoanti was ready for such a thing and managed to beat them all back with his staff.
            Andok continues to dance about the room, his quarterstaff constantly whirling. He strikes sparingly, waiting for the perfect moments to swing.
            He held the goblins off while waiting to see where Hrolfr would strike next. Amismara did what she could to keep the goblins away from the exit tunnel. There was a shrill whistle as one of the little monsters called the goblin dog yapping on the far side of the room.
            'ah! a glut of opportunities!' Fangess thought.
            In the midst of the confusion, she spotted her hand crossbow and bolts - but they were right under the mob of goblins. Opting to grab a well-gnawed thighbone instead, she hefted it to use as a club before she got closer to the fighting.
            One of the goblins skittered away from the fighting, running past Nacklewocket but stopping at the mouth of another tunnel to stomp its feet and sing in Goblin:
"Birdcrunchers will take your stuff
Birdcrunchers will chew you up
Crack and lick the tasty bones
Don't need stupid sticks and stones!"
            The song seemed to encourage the other goblins, who joined in disharmoniously as they swung their dogslicers.
            Nacklewocket looked around and surmised that although his hands were free, he was still in a rather precarious position. The two goblins closest to him appeared a hint more sinister than the others, so he decided it might be in his best interest to get away from them in due haste.
            He reached down to pull the ropes from his feet, claws sprouting from his fingers to help tear at them. The already frayed rope parted under his sharp claws, and he carefully rolled to a crouch, then got to his feet. The goblins nearest him tried to stab him, but he was quick to duck aside before they could draw blood. Then the Ulfen man with the lantern came up behind the goblins, trapping one of them between him and Nacklewocket, though he didn't manage to cut the manic little monster.
            This was what Andok had been waiting for. He leapt over the firepit, quarterstaff whirling, and whacked the goblin squarely on the head. It staggered back, dazed, as the goblin dog raced around the cave to the goblin that had called it, who mounted the animal bareback and proceeded to stab Nacklewocket with its horsechopper.
            Crying out in pain, Nacklewocket began to string together a series of curses in a variety of languages. After finishing off an older line rebuking the goblin's parentage in Draconic, he tried to regain his composure. This was not what he'd had planned, and the current wounds were doing wonders for his mood. His eyes darted around as he raised up his clawed hands to potentially protect himself. He quickly assessed where the newcomers, who he'd decided to treat as friendly as long as they weren't trying to eat him, were placing themselves, hoping he could at least get closer to one of them for safety in this mess.
            Another goblin followed Andok around the firepit, circling to pin him between the monsters, but the one he had struck decided it had had enough fun and scampered away through the second hide curtain. The goblin Amismara and Hrolfr threatened backed off, its little eyes glittering red in the madly swinging torchlight. Then it leapt at Andok, apparently seeing him as the more dangerous of those closer to its fellows. The giant Shoanti easily swept it aside with his quarterstaff.
            With no one in reach of her glaive, Amismara checked the tunnel behind her, but it was pitch black; if there was anyone approaching, she would have to listen for them. With the racket the goblins were making, that was difficult.
            Fangess saw that the goblins had been pushed back from her things, but they were still close enough to them to be a threat. Still, she'd rather have her hand crossbow than the filthy legbone she was currently wielding. She darted forward, flipping neatly over an attack by the closest goblin to grab her hand crossbow.
            Just as Nacklewocket was looking around for a spot to back off from the fighting, he felt the sharp lash of a whip wrap around one of his legs, jerking it out from under him. He fell back to the dirty earthen floor, and the whip-wielder sang triumphantly:
"You no win, Birdcrunchers kill you
End up roasted on Birdcruncher stick!
When you squeal, Birdcrunchers hear you
Eat you live or dead, you no get to pick!"
            Nacklewocket managed to regain his feet, avoiding the sharp, rusty blades that threatened him on all sides, but the whip left a burning welt on his back, ripping his dirtied clothes.
            Hrolfr stepped up to the edge of the firepit, where the bird spitted on Fangess' rapier was burning, mixing the smell of burnt feathers into the stink of the cave. He took the attention of one goblin back as Andok used the opening Nacklewocket had inadvertently given him to circle around the goblin who had followed him around the firepit. His attack proved too cautious, though, and the goblin was able to avoid his jabbing quarterstaff.
            The mounted goblin abandoned Nacklewocket and weaved through the fighting to take on Hrolfr, gouging the ranger deeply with its horsechopper and ululating exitedly. Even the goblin facing off with Andok finally managed to land a few cuts, capering around him and giggling with far too many nasty teeth showing.
            Seeing her friends make some headway, and hopeful that they might soon save the obvious prisoners, Amismara abandoned her place by the hide and moved into the room. She hoped to bring her glaive to bear while positioning herself for healing help should the nearest goblins fall.
            Taking a few steps into the cave, she swung her glaive at the mounted goblin harrassing Hrolfr, but the weapon caught in its makeshift armor and failed to penetrate.
            "i can't believe i have to resort to using a bone as a weapon! where is that rapier!" Fangess said.
            The rapier was still in the firepit with a pigeon spitted on it, now burning. In an impressive display of acrobatics, Fangess leapt over the mounted goblin's horsechopper, landing on her free hand and grabbing the quiver with her bolts in it as she continued her loop, bouncing away from the goblin and its mount and running into the dark tunnel that didn't seem to have any goblins in it.
            The singing goblin tried to trip Nacklewocket again, but this time he was ready, and jumped away from the snapping whip.
            Letting a rare frown crease his face, Nacklewocket kept his mouth closed for once. He decided that moving at this juncture would be a bad idea, given the poor alternate choices in the area. The next thing he needed to do was get his bearings and protect himself somehow. He just needed to be careful.
            Keeping an eye on the whip-wielding goblin, he muttered to himself and gestured, and was rewarded with the sense of a spell taking form around him.
            Drunk on battle, Hrolfr's war-cry turns into a loud screaming curse in a guttural language. He feints with his lamp, swinging it close to the mounted goblins face.
            The shadows twisted crazily as Hrolfr swung the lantern, and the goblin squawked. Rather than attacking, it backed its goblin dog away and dug a vial out of its ragged belongings, tossing the contents down its throat.
            Seeing an opportunity, Andok flanked the goblin by the firepit, but it was canny enough to avoid his blows. Andok, in turn, danced away from the cuts of the goblin behind him, and the one that had avoided his strike crossed blades with Hrolfr - only to have its cleaverlike dogslicer snap in half, leaving it standing with a stupid expression on its face.
            Even as she felt the grace of Shelyn's presence leave her, Amismara took the chance to spit the unlucky goblin. She jabbed at it, making it jump and howl as it tried to get away.
            Pressing herself against the curving earthen wall, Fangess couldn't be sure whether or not the goblins had seen her vanish. Peeking around the corner, she could only see two of them, both fighting with the humans, so she stayed where she was, her little crossbow ready.
            The singing goblin continued to screech, its voice getting louder and more hoarse, and from the tunnel behind it came the sound of a horde of running feet and goblin chatter approaching. Nacklewocket looked around for where a spell would do the most good, and chose the mounted goblin. Still keeping an eye on the singer, he murmured and pointed, and the goblin shook its oversized head and blinked its little red eyes, looking confused.
            Hrolfr charged forward and dealt an overhand swing across the goblins torso, gashing it badly while Andok chased the last dogslicer-wielding goblin around the firepit. The goblin dog snapped at Hrolfr, but its rider was too dazed to move, foam beginning to spill from its mouth as it sat there.
            The unarmed goblin withdrew towards the tunnel Fangess was hiding in - a perfect opportunity if ever there was one. She shot it before it realized she was there, making it scream and dance about trying to remove the bolt.
            "You longshanks better go home, or Neegla make you dead!" The demand was made in scratchy but recognizable Taldane, from a female goblin that brushed aside the second hide hanging and fired a small but well-made crossbow at Hrolfr. The bolt tore past his nose and barely missed Andok, sticking into the wall behind him. Another horsechopper-wielding goblin stood behind her, yelling threats in Goblin. "Chief Neegla make you food!" it screamed, frothing at the mouth.
            "Don't let them out of that tunnel!" Amismara shouted to her friends, stepping towards the northwest opening and bringing her glaive to bear once more. It jarred off the goblin's armor, failing to penetrate. Hrolfr was unluckier yet, as the singing goblin dropped her whip and drew a bead on him with her bow.
    "Goblins stab and goblins bite
    Make us mad and goblins fight
    Birdcrunchers be best of all
    Make the biggest longshanks fall!"
Then she shot an arrow into Hrolfr's neck, and jumped up and down screeching with joy.
            Sensing an opportunity he had been waiting for, the frown that had been plastered on Nacklewocket's face instantly vanished. At the same time, he began giggling uncontrollably, his fingers moving as if he was getting ready to partake in some sort of interpretive dance. Mumbling to himself in Sylvan, he tried to move forward and throw his hands out towards the newly appeared Goblins, obviously jittery but trying to remain cautious.
            He raised his hand and a flood of rainbow colors washed over the goblins. The mounted one dropped out of the saddle on the spot, but the other goblin and the goblin dog shook their heads and squinted angrily at Nacklewocket. Neegla threw up her hand against the blast and screeched, her crossbow clattering to the floor. When the colors abruptly faded, she stood blinking sightlessly, her movements uncertain and sluggish.
            Hrolfr swings his lantern in a big upward arc and throws it at the ceiling above the three newcomers. He then grips his shortsword firmly, ready to follow up on his (hopefully) distracting maneuver.
            The lantern smashed, raining bits of fire down on the goblins and goblin dog beneath and plunging the room into near-total darkness again. Hrolfr meant to take advantage of the distraction, but his eyes rolled back and he fell to the floor, unconscious.
            Andok pauses for a moment, listening to the sounds of goblins. "There can't be that many left," he yells. "Keep fighting!" Taking a deep breath, he steels himself and goes running full tilt at the clustered group of goblins, preparing to leap at the last possible moment.
            Charging past his comrades through the now-dark cave, Andok leapt headlong over the goblins, tucked and flipped, and landed on the rough stairway behind them.
            The goblin dog rounded on Nacklewocket and clamped its filthy muzzle on his arm, worrying it. It was too much for the gnome, who blacked out, the claws disappearing from his hands.
            Encouraged now that two of their foes had fallen, the goblin that had been harrying Andok ran over to trade blows with Amismara, getting inside the reach of her glaive, clearly meaning to force her back. However, Fangess came running out of the tunnel she had been hiding in, moving up beside Amismara in an attempt to grab her rapier from the coals. The goblin she passed grabbed a bow and shot after her, but she was too wary to be struck. Through it all their leader only halfheartedly patted at her armor where little flames burned, gaping sightlessly at nothing.
            "Hrolf!" Amismara shouted when she saw the terrible wound in her friend's neck.
            Ignoring the goblin nearby, Amismara bent to offer Shelyn's healing to her friend. She paid for it in blood as the goblin slashed her arm and sang to itself triumphantly, but her voice remained steady and Hrolfr stirred, rising to his feet and picking up his sword, which made the goblin swallow its song and back off warily.
            Andok battled the frothing goblin commando in the narrow confines of the stair-tunnel, neither gaining the advantage despite Andok attacking from higher ground.
            Turning from Nacklewocket, the goblin dog leapt at Hrolfr, but the Ulfen ranger deflected the animal's body, making it scramble to regain its feet. Arrows flew here and there, but at least the singing goblin had ceased its scratchy song. Then the goblin that was still fighting Hrolfr got in a lucky blow, sinking its rusty blade deep into his thigh.
            At the same time, Fangess' hand closed around the hot handle of her rapier, pulling it free from the coals and flipping the burnt pigeon off into the darkness as another arrow whipped past her.
            Cursing at the chance that she might heal some wounded goblins, but nevertheless desperate to save her friend, Amismara called again on Shelyn, channeling a healing energy around her. Again she was surrounded by swirling, rainbow colors that quickly spread out towards the wounded living nearby.
            The colors touched indiscriminately, and where they fell, flesh knit together again. The world came crashing in on Nacklewocket's consciousness as an arrow flew past overhead, the warchanter's shot bouncing off Hrolfr's armor.
            As his eyes rolled around briefly, Nacklewocket recalled where he was once more. You know, if you stop standing in the middle of this tussle like a barbarian, you may actually have more success staying on your feet, my good man. Wishing he was still unconscious but accepting that it wasn't likely, he cautiously tried to get to his feet.
            I know that, I do! That was some impressive action before they caught on, though, ya gotta admit! As he continued rising to his feet he attempted to also move closer to what remained of the firepit.
            WE AGREE. KILLER MOVES.
            Shaking off his newly rambling internal dialogue, Nacklewocket tried harder to focus on the task at hand.
            The poor gnome was struck by the indescribable urge to scratch himself all over, and especially where the goblin dog had bitten him moments ago. It was a horrible distraction, but somehow he managed to gather enough magical energy to fling at the warchanter. Even in the dim light, acid spattered across her face, and she screeched, shaking her head violently and rubbing her arm against her (now even uglier) face.
            Hrolfr gasps, as life floods back into his body and his consciousness returns. His survival instincts kick in as his subconscious assesses the situation and selects the most dangerous target. He then makes an all-out overhead lunge towards the goblin leader
            The stunned and blinded goblin yelped as Hrolfr struck home, twisting away from his wet blade. But the blow wasn't telling - despite everything, she wasn't out of the fight yet.
            Still embroiled in battle with the goblins, Andok continues to keep his weapon between himself and his opponent, trying to keep the seeking points of the dogslicers from finding him.
            Andok gave his opponent a severe beating with his staff, and it eyed him with new respect - but with nowhere else to go, it stayed where it was, horsechopper raised now more in trepidation than bloodlust.
            It just wasn't Hrolfr's day, though. The goblin dog leapt on him and savaged his arm and neck and even his face, blood spraying everywhere in droplets. The Ulfen ranger went down again. The nearest goblin leapt up onto his chest with a jeer and slashed at Amismara, drawing a thin cut.
            succeeding in some swift maneuvers to get the the fire pit, fangess grabbed hold of her rapier and loosened it from the charring meat.
            "i am fangess ogrefell," announcing herself to those attacking the goblins who may be nearby so as not to receive any unnecessary friendly fire.
            "stay your attacks on me; i am not your enemy. i mean to teach these goblins some manners in fair combat: that one does not bind then kick a helpless opponent!" fangess said flatly without any hint of sarcasm.
            "now, for you, goblin!" she directed her voice toward the shadowy goblin that she saw before the cave went dark, "pray that your neck is tougher than this sorry pigeon because you shall meet death at the end of my rapier!"
            Maybe it was her tone the goblin understood, but it drew back from harrying Amismara, its eyes flicking uncertainly among those still standing. Groping in the semi-darkness, Fangess got ahold of her pack and drew it over to her as another arrow whipped by.
            "No!" Amismara screamed as Hrolfr went down, apparently dead. She was so upset she didn't notice the cut to her arm. Instead, she stepped back, pointed her finger at the goblin in front of her and let her anger flow into a crackling bolt of energy. "Let the storm take you, beast!" she shouted.
            There was a sharp crackle and the smell of lightning in the air, and the goblin she had targeted yelped and jerked in the air as Amismara's holy attack struck home. She in turn was hit by an arrow from the warchanter, who did a little jig and made rude gestures at her.
            Cursing the itching that felt like it was rising up from inside his bones, Nacklewocket kept scratching himself in random places with his left hand. This new experience was distinctly...not good. While he could appreciate understanding how whatever the mangy beast had most likely infected him with operated, it was completely distracting. He just hoped it wasn't some sort of contagion that would require isolation when this was all over.
            Speaking of over...how to best bring this to a close...
            Recalling the cowardly nature of goblins when they feel like the tides have changed, Nacklewocket decided to focus his efforts on their leader.
            Stepping back, he felt the heat of the coals in the firepit behind him. He lobbed an orb of acid that smacked into Neegla, and she screeched and writhed as it burned her clothes and skin. Casting a look around, Nacklewocket spotted his gear spread out nearby, his crossbow lying unused amid some filthy goblin bedding.
            The goblin dog, as cowardly as any goblin, rushed at Fangess while she looked busy rooting in her pack, but she rolled aside from its charge easily. The goblin Amismara had fried, however, had had enough. It hopped off Hrolfr's chest and backed away, avoiding Amismara's parting strike, then turned and ran into the northeast tunnel.
            Andok and the goblin commando continued to parry each other, neither getting in any decisive blows.
            feeling the sunrod in her hand, fangess pulled it from the pack and activates it. her other hand grips the rapier, readying for any attackers as bolts whizzed by her.
            'let's hope we have someone else standing to rid these goblins besides myself!' she thinks to herself.
            Fangess finally ran out of luck as the goblin dog latched onto her arm and shook her, but she managed to strike the sunrod anyway. Brilliant light flooded the room, revealing its true filth. It also revealed that the odds were no longer in the goblins' favor. With more than half their number fallen or fled and their leader doing nothing, it was too much for the bow-wielding goblin by the southeast passage. It too fled, using Amismara's preoccupation with her other opponents to scamper out the tunnel the adventurers had come in through.
            Neegla blinked, seeming to realize where she was, but was still too stunned by Nacklewocket's clever spell to react.
            Amismara's hand spit more lightning at the goblin dog, which yelped in surprise at the supernatural attack. Its natural smell of sun-baked raw sewage was not improved.
            Nacklewocket rushed over to grab his crossbow, and the goblin dog sidled back from Amismara to snap at Fangess again, though it didn't catch her. One of the goblins Nacklewocket's spell had knocked out sat up groggily, blinking blindly and slack-jawed. Andok took a wrong step on the rough earthen "stairs" and his opponent took advantage of it, giving him a nasty cut.
            Fangess retaliated against the goblin dog, sinking her rapier deep in its flank - even as she felt the same itchiness Nacklewocket was experiencing spread from her arm.
            Neegla finally seemed to realize what was going on. Pulling a heavy pick from over her shoulder, with her free hand she drew the three eyes of Lamashtu and began to chant. Amismara took a swing at her, but the wily goblin chief jumped away, and then a thick fog rose from the ground, filling the cave.
            Seeing her chance, Amismara knelt to touch Hrolfr, saying a prayer under her breath.
            After grabbing his crossbow, Nacklewocket turned around to see that there was so much fog he wouldn't be able to clearly see the goblins. Shrugging more to himself than anyone, he pointed the crossbow in the general direction of where he has been knocked unconscious and fired off a lone bolt before starting to root through the foul bedding for more ammunition or the rest of his belongings.
            A clatter suggested his bolt had hit the wall, though by the yelp it sounded as though it had managed to scare a goblin, too.
            Glaring, the big Shoanti continued his careful assault, trying to keep the blood-hungry edges of the dogslicer from him. Right past his foe, the fog prvents him from seeing the rest of the battle, but the foe in front of him poses a clear target for his rising Shoanti battlelust.
            The two parried and thrusted at eachother briefly without making any inroads; then the wounded goblin warily backed away into the fog, disappearing. The goblin it scrambled over to get away looked around dazedly.
            "gods! i am bitten by a rabid mongrel!" she shook her arm to ease the pain. she did not like the tingling feeling at all, visualizing whatever filth was passed on and coursing in her blood.
            "you filthy cur! off! off!"
            She managed to shake off the mangy animal, but it was quick as its namesake and she couldn't finish it off with her rapier.
            Without a glance at the stunned goblin at her feet, Neegla scurried into the fog as well, casting a venomous look back over her shoulder at Andok before she went. Now there was only the snarling of the goblin dog to indicate a fight was going on - the goblins had fallen deathly silent. No doubt it was in order to hide better.
            "Andok! We are close to running off these foes! Let us finish the job and save our friend and these travelers!" With a grim determination, she drew her dagger and stepped towards the vague goblin shapes in the mist.
            The reeking goblin dog was too alert to hit, but Amismara was perfectly placed to keep the remaining goblin from escaping without suffering a strike from her.
            Unable to see anything at this point past where he stood, and completely unsure of whether or not the goblins were still there, Nacklewocket continued searching for his gear. Whomever that voice had belonged to obviously seemed set on driving off the goblins, and with his current injuries (along with the itching that WOULD NOT STOP), Nacklewocket figured preparedness was the best course of action.
            It didn't take him long; his things were strewn about the filthy furs and blankets that made up the goblin nest. Nacklewocket's itching seemed about right for the flea-ridden mess.
            Andok steps forward towards the fog, eyes narrowed, attempting to see a foe to battle. He, too, attempts to move silently, the better to put himself and the goblins on even footing.
            Silent as a ghost, Andok slipped forward - and he could just make out the shape of a goblin lying beyond the stairs. On its other side, Amismara saw a quarterstaff come whistling down on the unfortunate goblin's head, making it bounce a bit and lie still.
            Like its namesake, the goblin dog was a cowardly thing, and when faced with both Fangess and Amismara, it backed away growling, then fled. The patter of feet echoed weirdly around the group.
            "Is that the last?! Well done, Andok! Former captives! Let us flee this place! We will need to heal ourselves. Especially poor Hrolfr."
            Staring at his belongings mixed in amongst the filth of the goblins caused Nacklewocket to sigh. He hurriedly began gathering his things while throwing glances over his shoulder to make sure he wasn't being snuck up on, pausing slightly longer when he heard a shout from one of his rescuers behind him before resuming his mad dash to reclaim what was his.
            Andok stands in the fog, staff still at the ready, for any surprises that may leap forth. "Where's Hrolfr now?," Andok asks, trying to peer through the fog. "I'll carry him out of here."

21


            Andok managed to locate Hrolfr with Amismara's help, and the group fumbled through the mist to the tunnel and fled. Even the goblin dog had ceased its yapping, making their footsteps the only sound as they awkwardly dragged Hrolfr with them out. Nacklewocket had managed to scoop his belongings into his pack, as had Fangess, but their short stature slowed the pace of their retreat, making everyone tense.
            Expecting goblins to leap forth at every turn, they were surprised when none did. Fresh air and sunlight greeted them as they emerged from the Birdcruncher lair, more than welcome after the stinking darkness. Andok laid Hrolfr down a short distance from the mouth of the lair, close to the lapping water of the lake.
            Setting the injured Hrolfr down, Andok slumps heavily down next to him. "The little biters, they fight well," he says tiredly. He looks about, as though expecting more goblins to fly out of the trees. "Do we head back to Sandpoint, or do we rest here?"
            Setting the injured Hrolfr down, Andok slumps heavily down next to him. "The little biters, they fight well," he says tiredly. He looks about, as though expecting more goblins to fly out of the trees. "Do we head back to Sandpoint, or do we rest here?"
            "Now that we are away from the goblins, I can heal without worry of succoring our enemies!" With that, Amismara raisies her arm and sings a brief prayer. Healing light surrounds them all. She repeats this several times, glancing through the rainbow hues to ensure that all receive proper healing. "Now, however, I feel we should return to Sandpoint, rest, and review our course of action."

22


            It hadn't been a good few weeks for Gronk Slays-the-Earth. He had left the Sklar-Quah seeking to prove his worth, traveling to the city of Korvosa, only to find that the inhabitants jeeringly called him a "horser" and showed no hospitality at all. A few insults and a hefty fine later, he was strapped for cash, so he signed onto a ship headed for Magnimar. After a good bout of seasickness he decided that shipboard life wasn't for him, either. Instead, he set off on foot up the coast, soon coming to the little town of Sandpoint.
            When he got there, everyone was abuzz about some Swallowtail Festival - and a goblin raid! It seemed he had missed it by just two days. He was about ready to move on when he caught the tail-end of a conversation about the Heroes of Sandpoint. Everyone was talking about them, it seemed, but what caught his ear was mention of another Shoanti - Andok!
            A few questions confirmed it - his kin Andok was one of the Heroes who had fought off the goblin raid! Things seemed to be looking up. Eager to speak with his clansman, Gronk asked where Andok was staying, then made his way there to see if he could get ahold of the older man.
            As it turned out, Andok wasn't there when Gronk arrived at the White Deer Inn (with a lifelike white wooden statue of a deer out front), but the proprietor was another Shoanti - Garridan Viskalai of the Shiikirri Quah. Though a bit gruff at first, he seemed willing enough to talk of Shoanti matters, and what had brought him to settle in Sandpoint - apparently his parents had brought their family here when he was a boy, and though he spoke longingly of returning to the Shiikirri lands, it was clear that his love for his wife and children tied him to Sandpoint as surely as chains. "But I do not give up our ways," he said darkly, polishing a tankard as he spoke with Gronk.
            When Gronk told Viskalai he knew Andok, the man's somber demeanor changed. "He saved Lord Foxglove right outside this inn," the big innkeeper enthused. "Now I hear he's out hunting goblins in the countryside. I'm proud to have him staying right here! I'll let him know you're looking for him when he comes back."

23


            Gronk wandered the little town, so much smaller than Korvosa or Magnimar, but much more welcoming. It was impossible to overlook the Old Light, the ancient ruin that loomed over the town on the coast, and of course he couldn't avoid seeing the new cathedral, of which the townsfolk seemed exceedingly proud. But the town was stirred up from the goblin raid like an ant's nest poked with a stick, with people scurrying everywhere and gathering in clumps to talk. There was sadness, too; not everyone had escaped unscathed, and on his way up to the cathedral he was passed by a wagon with a coffin in the back, trailed by weeping relatives. Even the children seemed a little subdued, though some were playing goblin-fighters.
            Here and there, butterflies flitted through the air or sat sunning themselves, a strange sight this late in the year.
            Gronk will investigate the old lighthouse closer. That seems like something interesting. After that he'll continue to wonder around looking for something fun or different while waiting for his kinsman to return.
            Approaching the Old Light was like approaching a cross between the tallest of trees and a small mountain. Getting closer, it was apparent that the gigantic and ruined lighthouse had long since become a playground for children and seagulls (and had probably donated more than a little stone to the various buildings in town). Outside, an old man studied it from the street with the help of some strange brass device, muttering to himself and tucking the thingamajig under his arm to take notes, then pulling it out again to repeat the process. Inside, the sound of the sea was magnified, and he spent some time simply looking up at the broken circle of clear blue sky with white birds wheeling in the sunlight. It was peaceful, almost hypnotic.
            Leaving the Old Light behind, he made his way down to the market square, which was empty of stalls with the Festival over with. The smell of food led him down to the harbor, where he entered a tavern with the sound of raucous singing and laughter - not quite drunken, but certainly on the way. Inside, it was dim compared to the bright sunlight outside, but Gronk could see tables full of sailors and gamblers, storytellers and people eating. Once again, the Heroes of Sandpoint were on everyone's lips. For once his entrance didn't draw much of an eye.
            Behind the bar counter there was a great glass tank with a fish in it that was ugly as sin. In front of it, a man with a scruffy black beard jawed with the patrons as he bustled about filling tankards for the barmaids to pass around. Spotting Gronk, he called out, "Welcome to the Hagfish, stranger! What's yer poison? Or did ya come to win the prize?" He patted the tank affectionately and grinned, and a small cheer went up from some of those listening, who turned to stare at Gronk.
            Gronk was not sure what to say so he said, "Surprise me with the drink and what do I need to do to win?"
            "O ho! There's a brave lad!" The tavernkeep poured a draft of ale and came around the counter with it, one leg nothing more than a peg. He passed the drink to Gronk, then gestured widely. "Why, that's the beauty of it - to win, all ya need to do is drink a tankard of water from Norah's tank! Then the prize is yers to keep." He gestured at a leather pouch hanging from a nail beside the tank. It was bulging with coins.
            "Just a silver coin to try," the proprietor said with an inviting grin. "And then ya get to carve yer name up there." He pointed up, and Gronk saw that the beam above the bar was carved with a few names. "'Course, ya got to keep yer drink down, too. That'll be a copper for yer ale," he added amiably.
            Gronk was confident in winning this contest, the water could be bad in the Storval Plains. Gronk laid down 1 silver and 2 coppers and said, "Here is for the ale you got me and for the next one after I drink Norah's water!." Gronk played to the crowd to get himself pumped up.
            "That's the spirit, lad!" A louder cheer went up this time, with people drifting over to watch as the peg-legged barkeep ceremoniously raised a tankard over Norah's tank, then dipped it in. Slimy ropes dangled from the tankard as he raised it and passed it to Gronk. The water didn't even slosh, it was so thick. A fishy smell rose from it, and Gronk realized it wouldn't be so easy to win that jackpot.
            Some of the regulars laughed and elbowed each other, while others placed bets. "Norah's made a fine soup of that water, eh Jargie?"
            "I hear the Shoanti can keep down any drink. Come on, fella, I got a week's wages bet on you!"
            "This sure beats yarning about Old Murdermaw!"
            Gronk put the tankard to his lips, and the first taste of the water confirmed his worry. It was horrifically slimy and foul-tasting. He just couldn't force himself to take more than that first awful swallow.
            Gronk did not believe how horrible it tasted. Spitting it out he looked around stunned and then started to laugh, "That is the worst thing I have ever tasted!"
            There was a lot of good-natured groaning, and some of the patrons slapped Gronk on the back companionably. Jargie took back the tankard and plopped the remainder of the water back into Norah's tank. "No worries, lad," he said with a wink. "Ain't more than those few whose names you see on the beam what ever managed to drink the drink and keep it down, and I've been running the Hagfish for nigh on ten years. Maybe next time, eh? Here's yer ale - a good one, if I say so myself. To brave attempts!" He raised another tankard of ale himself, taking a long draw.
            Gronk finished his ale while getting to know the locals in the Hagfish. Gronk found himself welcomed at the Hagfish, not just by Jargie Quinn, but by all the locals who had witnessed his attempt to defeat Norah's disgusting water. Quinn stuffed the silver coin Gronk had paid into the prize pouch somehow, making it bulge even more. Gronk was invited to play various games going on, from throwing daggers at a board on the wall to card and dice games at the tables, and all around him swirled chatter and tall tales about any number of subjects, such as Old Murdermaw, how Quinn had lost his leg, Black Magga, the Sandpoint Devil, and of course the Heroes of Sandpoint. Best among the yarners were Farmer Grump, a gruff man who seemed able to keep a straight face through the most ridiculous of stories, Quinn himself, who told the most riduculous of stories, and Gedwin Tabe, an oily fellow who seemed able to explain any inconsistency in his story.
            After he was done, Gronk decided to leave and see if the strange old man by the lighthouse was still there. Gronk hadn't figured out why that man would spend so much time there.
            Making his way back to the Old Light, Gronk found the old man putting away his notes and packing up his strange instrument. It seemed the Shoanti had caught him just in time.

24


            The day was crisp and bright, perfect weather for a goblin hunt. It was a pity that Bergi wasn't on that hunt. Then again, hanging out at the Rusty Dragon wasn't exactly a chore. Not that she was loafing - old Bethana would have taken the time from her cleaning to have a word with her parents! - no, she was helping Ameiko while she waited for the Heroes to return.
            She'd just overslept a teensy bit - or rather, the Heroes had left at practically the crack of dawn - and she hadn't caught wind of what they were doing until they were long gone. But small town gossip traveled fast, and now she knew that the Heroes were out hunting goblins. Or maybe it was ogres. Or the Sandpoint Devil. Anyway, when they came back, she'd be ready.
            "Okay, Bergi, show 'em what you've got," Ameiko said with a smile, stepping down off the stage and plucking the sweet tea Bergi had been drinking from her hand. The patrons called for her to return (some of them no doubt due to her exotic beauty, though her singing matched it), but she waved them off with a laugh. "If you think I can sing, wait 'til you hear Bergi!" she promised.
            Bergi had to admit she loved the attention, and this showed in her high energy level as she turned around to give a bright, beaming smile to the Rusty Dragon's patrons, mirroring the one she'd given Ameiko not ten seconds earlier.
            She wanted very much to impress the customers after such an introduction, but if it ended in failure, she'd run off to clean in the kitchen until the situation simmered down. After all, in Bergi's experience, you either amazed your tavern audience, or learn the hounding virtue of humility.
    "Oh, the traveler's road is inglorious and long, until they see the sky.
    There by starlight, the invigoration of the spirit, the moonlight butterfly,"
    she started the song, keeping an even tempo,"-will guide your wild abandon, there's no one to keep you there!
    'Dance and shout! Don't lay about! DANCE AND SHOUT! DON'T LAY ABOUT!
    For the rec'nin' day is coming, and don't let it find you there! Let it find you in glory, the starlight in your hair!"
Thinking of her audience, she might have ad-libbed slightly with her last musical stanza. "AND DRUNK TO BOOT!"
            Her performance went over very well indeed, and clapping, laughter and chatter filled the common room. Ameiko gave her a thumbs up from behind the bar, that cute kitchen boy Bolass grinned at her from the kitchen door, and even old Bethana poked her head down the stairs to give Bergi a smile and a wave - and Bethana Corwin didn't praise anyone easily, even her granddaughter.
            The inn was, as usual, quite busy and stuffed with travelers, though nowhere near so many as there had been for the Swallowtail Festival. Talk ranged from moaning about goblins to what to bring to the market on Market Day to, of course, the valorous Heroes of Sandpoint - even travelers had heard of their exploits.
            The halfling became noticeably anxious when she heard snippet talk of the Heroes of Sandpoint. She'd wanted to talk with them already, but always missed them by a hair, it seemed. She was still walking on airs about her performance, though.
            After getting down from the stage, Bergi took part in a few short conversations about the heroes of Sandpoint before asking Ameiko if she needed any deliveries made. It had been a slow day for Bergi's parents, and they didn't need her help, but if the keeper of the Rusty Dragon needed her help, the halfling was happy to oblige. It was the least she could do, really.
            The people talking about the Heroes mixed speculation as to their backgrounds with the juiciest stories of how they saved the town and cynical predictions that this time, they either wouldn't find the goblins that had no doubt gone into hiding after their trouncing, or that a whole nest of goblins would do them in.
            Ameiko gestured for Bergi to follow her up to her room. Bergi perched on the comfortable couch while Ameiko went to her desk and scribbled something on a sheet of paper. It was a big room, with a large and exotic red and gold carpet beside the heavy cabinet Bergi knew Ameiko kept her old adventuring gear in. Ameiko performed a strange set of exercises there each morning. It always smelled faintly of spices; a pleasant room, though Ameiko spent little time there when she wasn't sleeping.
            The innkeeper folded up her letter and handed it to Bergi with a smile. "If you don't mind, would you take this over to Savah at the Armory? After that, I can't think of a thing in the world for you to do." She gave Bergi a sly wink, tossing a braid of her latest hairstyle over her shoulder. "I can see you're dying to talk to the Heroes. Tell you what, when they come in, I'll tell you first thing, okay? I'll send little Ufpas to find you. I don't know how that kid gets around so fast. Must be magic."
            "Enthusiasm is its own magic." Bergi responded with a smile that reflected her thanks. "I'll get this to the armory in no time, Ameiko." the halfling promised, taking the letter she was offered with gusto, "-and you have my gratitude."
            With that, the young bard was off like a rocket, herself. For someone with such short legs, she was very dedicated to getting places quickly. She kept her eye out for any signs of the heroes as she traveled to her destination, though.

25


            With Shelyn's blessing Hrolfr was restored to consciousness, and the others fully healed.
            Waking up from unconciousness, Hrolfr gets to his feet with a slight grimace on his face. "A good battle. Did we get all of them?"
            "Welcome back, friend. We left a few alive. We didn't want you to miss out." She placed her hands warmly on his arms and helped the large man back to his feet.
            Wounded though he still was, the Ulfen managed to lead them back toward civilization. The body of the snake they had slain was already gone - a sign that they weren't alone out here.
            Rottooth was still tied up where they'd left him, gnawing on the uppermost rope binding him. He cringed as the bloodied and tattered group approached, pleading with them in an annoying high-pitched voice. Nacklewocket knew the goblin was asking them to let him go, but clearly didn't expect them to actually do it.
            Upon seeing this new goblin, Nacklewocket absentmindedly scratched at his neck, then his forearm. Realizing what he was doing, he sighed. That's a new tic that's going to take some time to fix, eh? Bloody goblin diseases.
            After listening to the captive grovel away for a bit, Nacklewocket turned to his new traveling partners.
            "Given the nature of this goblin's raving, I'm under the impression you've all tied him up here. Is he just bait for something? A warning? An afterthought?" he asked them, then remembering his manners followed up with, "Nacklewocket Roonwinkle, by the by. Etymologist Extraordinaire."
            "Andok. Shoanti traveler," the big man says simply. "Tied up so he wouldn't become a warning to his kin of our approach. We should probably let him go now, before some beast finds him." He stands over the trussed-up goblin, not making a move until his companions speak. "We need also decide whether we return here. We delivered much vengeance, but stand no closer to any answers."
            Amismara, weary and disheveled, nonetheless managed a passable introduction. Nacklewocket's gracious greeting had brought a broad smile to her face. She looked on as he set to questioning the goblin.
            Rottooth whined and moaned, but Nacklewocket kept at it, trying to wring something out of the miserable goblin. After a minute Rottooth broke down and wailed, "It all them Birdcrunchers fault! And Thistletops! Not Rottooth's! Rottooth love longsh- er, bigfolk!" The goblin tried a winning smile to go along with this rather unlikely statement. It was awful to behold. Certainly he lived up to his name.
            Nacklewocket peered into Rottooth's mouth nearly in awe, momentarily distracted from the goblin's speech as he tried to interpret how the create managed to actually masticate its food. Realizing this was folly, he blinked a couple times and resumed focusing on the goblin's speech.
            "Rottooth no want to go to Sandyhomeplace. But boss, he say go! Chief hit with big stick if Rottooth no go! Rottooth never try eat tasty little bigfolk! Rottooth never start great big fire! Rottooth not even go with bigfolk boss to bury-place!" he babbled. "Rottooth never throw cat in big boily-water, make it fly! Rottooth not eat nice bigfolk's tasty foods! Rottooth not ever tie up dog and stab-stab-stab! Rottooth never break crashy-windows and put pieces in pie! Rottooth no jump in butter and-"
            Obviously, this could go on for some time.
            After waiting for another minute or so while Rottooth cried his way through the list of offenses he had never committed to see if valid information would arise, Nacklewocket turned to the rest of the group. "He's claiming everything is the fault of the Birdcrunchers and Thistletops, whom I'm assuming are a couple of the local warbands or tribes." Pausing, Nacklewocket added, "Actually, Birdcrunchers are who were in charge back in that cave." Casting a look back at the pitiable goblin, Nacklewocket continued, "He's claiming he was coerced into going to...Sandpoint by a threat of violence from the Chief. He's also claiming he didn't have anything to do with starting a big fire, I'm assuming in Sandpoint. Also, he didn't go with some human leader to a cemetery, not sure if that has relevance to any of you..."
            Amismara nodded appreciatively at the information being provided by Nacklewocket's interrogation. She waited on the next bit of information expectantly, but hoped they'd soon return to Sandpoint to rest and regroup. As for Rottooth, she hoped they'd find a way to spare the miserable creature.
            Turning back to Rottooth, he interrupted the goblin's ongoing claims of innocence. "What be Chief name? From Birdcrunchers or Thistletops? And who be bigfolk boss? Where be bury-place bigfolk boss went to?" Nacklewocket asked, as his nose began reminding him one more reason why his people hated dealing with goblin-folk.
            Andok nods appreciatively at the gnome's information, admiring the work of the mind that the gnome has apparently accomplished. His brow knits at some of the more cryptic lines that Nacklewocket passes on. "Cemetery...?," he asks curiously. "If our snaggletoothed companion is capable, more information about the graveyard may be a good line of inquiry," the Shoanti says, not knowing that Nacklewocket has already begun down that path.
            "Big Warchief, he Ripnugget," Rottooth babbled. "Ripnugget great big chief, everyone listen. He eat tasty bigfolk, not Rottooth! Rottooth not ever chop up baby and eat best parts all alone! Rottooth-" Nacklewocket managed to get Rottooth back on track before he went off on another spiel about things he'd never done. Rottooth racked his brain for answers; the party could almost hear the creaking. "Bigfolk boss have some name, Rottooth forget. But he go bury-place on secret mission! Not Rottooth! Bury-place next to big stone house no burn, lots of crashy windows though. But Rottooth never break glass and sing songs about!"
            Nacklewocket turned to his new compatriots, who seemed to be waiting for him to translate. "He says the name of the goblin leader is Ripnugget. He doesn't recall the name of the human whom he's referring to, but he remembers a secret mission in a cemetary near what I'm assuming is a place of worship. That may be a good place to resume the search for...erm...whatever it is you may be searching for." Pausing for a moment, Nacklewocket realized he'd just been following this group with no real purpose, and they had no reason to bring him along anywhere else.
            "I must say, this entire situation is highly interesting. I would be more than happy to lend my services to you gentlefolk in this task of yours. You seem to be magnets for excitement, as it were. If that is to continue, I would very much like to be around to experience such wonderment." He smiled cheerfully at them, hoping he had discovered exactly the type of new group to travel with that had prompted his trip to Sandpoint initially.
            Andok nods at the description Nacklewocket relays to the party. "Graveyard next to the cathedral," he says, looking to the others for verification.
            As Nacklewocket gives his offer of service, the Shoanti's face darkens. "This is no trip to a library, little one," Andok says sternly. "We've already seen companions die, with, no offense meant, stronger arms than yours."
            "Now, now, Andok, that's not fair. His arms helped carry Hrolfr out." At this she turned to Nacklewocket, but she laid a conciliatory hand on Andok's shoulder. "And they were most helpful and appreciated. I suggest we return to Sandpoint together and investigate this cemetery mystery. Someone with Nacklewocket's skills at language might help us avoid the need for so many strong arms."
            As his smile grew bigger (if it were possible), Nacklewocket nodded along at Amismara's comment.
            "It will continue to be my pleasure to aid you in the continuation of your journey," Nacklewocket responded. "I hereby pledge myself to helping you large folk along until the point in time which you no longer you feel you require the services of an Etymologist Extraordinaire." Tilting his head towards the ever-chattering goblin, Nacklewocket continued, "Before we set off to Sandpoint, what do you all believe should be done with this one? I highly doubt he can provide any further information, given his fragile mental capacity."
            After taking a moment to size up Rottooth, he looked back at the group. "Personally, my experience with his kind is that while they seem like weak cowards by themselves, if you give him a chance to potentially join up with his clan again, he'll once more turn to a life of abhorrently violating the serenity of others. Just my two copper."
            Hrolfr cannot help but smile at the gnome's initial outburst, and he is hard pressed to suppress a chuckle at the dour Shoanti's words of warning. He nods at Amismara's acceptance of Nacklewocket, and chimes in: "Strong arms or no, I like your spirit. I say you are welcome to travel with us."
            Andok shrugged as Amismara and Hrolfr welcomed the little gnome with open arms. "At least he won't weigh much when we need to carry his body out of a goblin hole," he thinks philosophically. He follows along behind the party, quietly watching for any threats.
            As Nacklewocket discusses what should be done with Rottooth, Hrolfr looks thoughtful for a while and then hefts his big axe. He turns quickly and swings his great axe underhand in a circular movement at the goblin, but at the last moment nudges the axe at the ropes tying the goblin to the tree, severing them. Before the goblin has a chance to move, he moves in and makes eye contact wearing a fearsome scowl. "You run, and you run fast. If I see you again in these parts, I will chop you into little pieces and feed you to the crows. Understood!?"
            Rottooth gaped at Hrolfr, hardly understanding his good fortune. He probably didn't understand Hrolfr's threat, either, but he read the Ulfen's body language clearly enough. With a squeak he bounced up and vanished into the underbrush.
            Fencechewer watched this with mild alarm, but with Hrolfr up and sound again, the mule was soon calmed and headed back to Sandpoint.

26


            Gronk introduced himself to the old man and offered to help carry his things back to his house. As they walked Gronk asked about what he was doing.
            The balding old man blinked at him in surprise (or maybe just nearsightedness). "Eh, what's that? You think I'm so old I can't handle a few tools?" he said peevishly. At Gronk's question, though, he relented. "I suppose you wouldn't know what all this is for." He gestured at his devices, now put away in a box. Puffing himself up, he announced, "I have spent my life on research, young man, and at the moment my research is on ancient Thassilonian ruins. This," he tapped the Old Light with his foot, "is an ancient Thassilonian ruin."
            He picked up his toolbox and gave it to Gronk, muttering to himself. "When I publish my final findings, those fools won't be laughing. Hah!" He led Gronk to the first house on the right of the street, across from a dilapidated shack, then snatched his tools back from Gronk. He eyed the Shoanti challengingly, though he had to bend his head back to do it. "Well, boy? What do you say to that? I suppose you'll want to come in and have a drink, eh? Well, I don't have anything but tea, so you'll have to make do." He disappeared into the house, and a few moments later his annoyed voice came out. "Shut the door after you! Were you born in a barn?"
            Gronk laughed at the old man and said, "No I was born in a yurt!". Gronk followed the man inside and closed the door behind him and found a good place to put the man's equipment.
            Gronk found a chair and sat in it and asked the old man once he brought tea over, "So what have you found there that is so great?"
            The old man thrust a cup of piping hot tea into Gronk's hands and plopped into a chair himself. "Amazing things, marvelous! What do you know of your history, boy?" he suddenly asked, jabbing a finger at Gronk, then waved the question away dismissively. "Nothing, I'll wager, but that's no surprise. Thassilon was a huge empire, and that empire was responsible for many things. The Old Light is just one of them, but I have theorized that it was once a war machine, capable of spewing fire to strike at enemies over a mile away!" He leaned forward in triumph, eyes sparkling like those of a much younger man. "You believe that, don't you, boy? Not like those fools in Magnimar." He thumped his fist on the table angrily, rattling the teacups and saucers.
            Gronk replied, "I believe and why not? You would be surprised at what the Shoanti elders know, they are very wise."
            "Humph. Good lad. I suppose your elders have instilled you with a healthy amount of sense." The cantankerous old man chatted on about the Old Light at some length, until the pot of tea ran dry.
            After he finished his tea, Gronk got up from the table, "Good to meet you, but I must be on my way."
            "Had enough of an old man's ramblings, have you? Hah!" Levering himself out of his chair, the man let Gronk out. "You stay out of trouble, boy!" As the door slammed, Gronk noticed a hacked spot on the lintel. Come to think of it, he'd seen spots like it all over town.
            Returning to the White Deer, he was informed by Viskalai's wife Yani that Andok had not yet returned. "He's out with the other Heroes, fighting goblins!" she said, proud as if it were her own deed. "Wait a few days, he's bound to be back."

27


            Outside the Rusty Dragon, people were still busy cleaning up after the Festival and the raid. Trash and broken pottery was swept up and left in piles for Gorvi's helpers to take away in their red wheelbarrows. People clucked over the ashes of things the goblins had set on fire (thankfully it hadn't spread like the fire of The Late Unpleasantness five years ago), and some wept over those who had been killed. All in all life hadn't yet gone back to normal after the shocking event.
            Bergi ran up Market Street past the Sandpoint Boutique (out of which came the sound of voices raised in argument - no doubt Hayliss Korvaski dealing with a member of the Scarnetti family again, or rather, NOT dealing with them), through the empty market square, and turned up Festival Street, rushing past the massive Sandpoint Theater (not least because she didn't feel like hearing Cyrdak Drokkus badmouth Ameiko today) and the Carpenter's Guild toward the stink of the tannery, but she turned up High Street before it got so bad she had to hold her breath. There, at the end of High Street, was Savah's Armory.
            The northeast corner was scarred from the Sandpoint Fire five years ago, but luckily the building had escaped significant damage. Bergi shivered as she walked under the doorframe, where the wood had been hacked away; evidence that once the door had sported a Stoot. A bell rang cheerily as she entered the shop, and Savah Bevaniky looked up from where she was haggling with a merchant over a set of knives. "Be right with you!" she called, turning back to her customer and giving Bergi time to look around the arms and armor shop.
            The halfling might not have enjoyed the smell of the tannery (which, in all honesty, wasn't a rare thing), but she admired the end products very much. She gravitated especially to leathers that were more expensive and had intricate patterning. Someday, she wanted to buy these things.
            Bergi didn't try anything on, due to her mother specifically warning her never to do so in any shop unless explicitly asked to do so. This didn't stop her from oggling the priciest small armor she could find. It wouldn't take much to turn it purple, would it?
            "Bergi Kauflebaum, isn't it? What can I do for you today, Miss Kauflebaum?" Savah was a woman with short red hair and a ready smile. She quirked an eyebrow at Bergi, nodding towards her armor stands. "Planning on doing battle with your next audience?" she asked with a chuckle.
            The halfling didn't jump, but she did get jerked out of her reverie by Savah. "It's just a really nice piece of work, that armor. Maybe I'll buy it from you someday, Savah." Bergi responded. With that, the bard handed over the note from Ameiko.
            "This is for you."
            Savah opened the letter, then smiled broadly. "Ah, excellent. Miss Kaijitsu is selling me some weapons from Minkai. I'll just-"
            The door bell rang again, and a little boy no taller than Bergi ran in, breathing hard. "Bergi! Bergi! They's back! An' they's all dead!" Ufpas was wide-eyed and flushed with excitement, all but bouncing in place with the importance of his news.
            "Who's back and dead?" Savah asked, smiling at the panting little boy. Her smile died at his answer.
            "Th' Heroes!"
            Bergi gained a stricken expression upon hearing Ufpas's dire proclamation. She liked the boy, she really did, but sometime she'd have to teach him about specificity, because what came to mind was some local hunter dragging back a bunch of mangled corpses. No, wait...
            If that were the case, wouldn't Ufpas be crying, at least? Or horrified? The bard would have to see for herself.
            "Thanks for coming to get me, Uf." the youngest Kauflebaum told Ameiko's youngest employer and turned to Savah.
            "I hope that weapon serves you well, but, I have to get back to the Rusty Dragon immediately!"
            Bergi gathered all of her things and re-tied her bow before running back across town to Ameiko's place of business.

28


            The going was much easier once they got out of the Tors and back to the Lost Coast Road, and by the afternoon they neared Sandpoint again. Children ran out past the "Welcome to Sandpoint" sign and mirror to swarm them, and townsfolk passing by stopped to shake their hands and thank them for what they'd done. Young women blushed and giggled, whispering among themselves and eyeing Hrolfr as the group passed.
            As the party arrives back in Sandpoint, the large Shoanti gains a small smile, watching the children play. The smile lasts until he reaches the town limits, and sees again the damage wrought by the goblin raid.
            They stabled Fencechewer at the Goblin Squash Stables (Hosk was pleased as punch to see them again), and as they got to The Rusty Dragon, Ameiko popped her head out and beckoned them in. "Welcome back, Heroes!" She looked around for those who were missing, then turned back to those remaining of the old group. She looked concerned as she said, "Where are Cael, Todd and Evan? I hope nothing happened to them out there?"
            When they reach the Rusty Dragon and Ameiko asks her sad question, his face darkens another degree. His face is solemn as he looks at Ameiko for a moment. "They fought bravely," he says after a moment has passed. "They will always be remembered as heroes of Sandpoint." Amismara lowered her head in silent agreement.
            Ameiko closed her eyes sadly. After a long moment she opened them again and raised her voice. "A drink on the house for the fallen Heroes of Sandpoint! They will be remembered." Quiet spread throughout the otherwise boisterous common room as people crowded the bar to get their drinks, then solemnly drank to the memory of the fallen Heroes. Then talk began, more quietly than before - speculation as to what had happened to the missing three.
            Ameiko sighed. "I don't know if you're up for it now, but a friend of mine would really like to talk to you. She should be along shortly, if you're planning on staying a while."
            "We do plan to stay and would be happy to meet your friend. Everyone in town has been so kind and generous to us. However, I will soon require rest. While I would normally spend my free time here in the common room, I'm afraid I must retire early...to grieve and recover."
            Andok nods in silent agreement at Amismara's assertion that the party plans to stay. "We will be honored to talk with your friend, Miss Ameiko," Andok says. "After the kindness the town has showered upon us, refusal would be churlish."
            "Of course, I understand. I'm sure Bergi will appreciate however long you have to speak with her. I'll see if I can clear a corner table for you so you can sit in peace." Said was as good as done at the Rusty Dragon. The patrons cleared a table for them willingly, though Ameiko had to shoo off the ones who wanted to question them on just what had happened.
            "Peace" was a relative word; before long the Rusty Dragon was quite noisy again, but Ameiko saw to it that they weren't bothered by anyone. Before long, a halfling burst in the front door and spotted them in the corner by the fireplace.
            Bergi was excited to see the heroes, to be sure, but held back her enthusiasm when she saw the expressions on their faces, and it was easy to infer that it had something to do with Ufpas's mention of death.
            They looked tired; if it weren't for the fear of being left behind again, she might have left them alone until morning.
            The halfling wandered over to their table, her hair ribbon bobbing. "Sorry to interrupt, but I've been trying to find you all for some time."
            "You are not interrupting, dear, and we're happy to meet you", Amismara said smiling. Reaching out an arm, she added warmly, "Please, sit down and speak with us a while."
            Bergi did as Amismara requested, taking in the visages of what she hoped would be her party, and taking careful measures not to bring up too large a grin at the honor (especially since the mood was somewhat dark)
            "Amismara, correct?" Bergi asked carefully, assigning the face to the name.
            Hrolfr is uncharacteristically quiet and absent-minded during the journey back to Sandpoint. When they arrive at the Rusty Dragon, he sits quiet for a while and drinks a few tankards of ale. All of a sudden, he raises his tankard and says: "To fallen comrades, may they find what they seek on the other side!". He then proceeds to consume vast amounts of alcohol. He welcomes Bergi to the table when she, being at that point already noticeably inebriated.
            "That is correct, Bergi. I've heard that you tell a good tale. Would you mind sharing one with some weary travelers?", Amismara asked, indicating herself, Andok, Nackle and a rapidly-drinking Hrolfr.
            Taking notice of the halfling's obvious interest in the so-called Heroes of Sandpoint, she added, "And do include yourself in the telling. I love to see how the teller relates to the tale."
            Up to this point, Nacklewocket had been curiously inspecting the tankard in which he was sampling a gnomishly appropriate amount of the local ale. It wasn't anything that especially tickled his fancy, but it was new, and that was enough for him. Exhaustion had begun working its magic on him, however, and while he would normally be talkative, he had taken to simply observing everyone around him. Yet at the mention of tale telling, Nacklewocket instantly perked up, the fog of weariness slipping away to be replaced once more by excitement. He rapidly rifled through his pack and produced his paper and quill, ready to begin documenting whatever new tales would spill forth from the conversation going on at their table.
            The halfling took a couple seconds to mull over Amismara's words, and even longer to mesh together a tale that didn't exist. She was quite proud of her ability with musical improvisation, but seldom was she asked to perform in front of people she wanted so desperately to impress. This pressure was compounded by her noticing Nacklewocket's preparations, as if he expected something amazing to happen.
            Come to think of it, she hadn't heard anything about the gnome until he came back with the heroes, so she didn't have much material there.
            Perhaps her eyes lingered on the gnome a tad longer than Bergi had intended. They were still there, perplexed, as she summoned a harp and wove a short ballad.
"The Heroes of Sandpoint, the figureheads of courage, slaying the lurkers that shun all good's light,
would seldom depend on the goodwill of men, rather than the steel of Hrolfir and Andok;
Adventurous beings taking the fight to the goblins, using the greatest of weapons: Bolstered by her divine love, and the hand of a Goddess, Amismara would put them to mend,
Now begs here the question of the man with stained fingers, would he a story write in the end? Following with courage, with them near and far, the heroes which honor my hometown in name,
Honoring the fallen, but pressing on regardless,
This one would honor find in aiding them gain victory in the face of peril!
She'd follow them to the end! No fear of death does she harbor, and though pretentiously she inserts herself into the story, she works for their glory! The Heroes of Sandpoint, A-vei-ya!"
            As the halfling wraps up her tale-ballad, Andok gives a slow and respectful clap. "You sing well, little one. Tell me, that last bit - are you asking to join us?" His tone has a little of a dubious tinge to it, and his eyes almost unconciously flit towards the equally-small form of the quill-bearing scholar that recently joined them.
            "Yes, I am." she admitted, placing her hands together on the table. "Surely you can agree there's more to being capable than just strength and size, right?"
            "We do agree, most heartily!" laughed Amismara, delighted by Bergi's work. She gave Andok's shoulders a friendly consoling squeeze and then reached out to take Bergi's hands in hers. "I find that thoughts of rest are banished for now! Instead, I want to catch up with Hrolfr's estimable progress and enjoy the presence of friends."
            And mourn the absence of others, she added to herself.
            Andok gives an almost imperceptible shrug at the inclusion of yet another of the little folk, but has nothing more to say on the matter. During the combined celebration and mourning that follows, Andok does not partake in drink, but does deign to follow Hrolfr's Skaldic poems with a Shoanti battlesong, and does his best to return everyone to their rooms at the end of the evening.

29


            Later in the evening, Hrolfr starts singing heroic poems in Skald. He continues until someone hauls him up to his room or he falls asleep onto the table. The Rusty Dragon was exactly the kind of place that catered to singing and carousing, and Hrolfr and Andok's contributions were well-received indeed. People sang gibberish to the general tune of Hrolfr's songs, and clapped and stamped their feet in approval of Andok's battle-song. Ameiko herself came out and sang a heart-rending ballad to honor the fallen. It was quite late before Andok had herded the others to their beds and returned to the White Deer himself.
            It was pitch black in the streets, but there was just enough moonlight to make his way. He made it just before Yani closed the doors for the night, and she told him that young Gronk from his own clan was there to see him. "Why don't you both have breakfast together," she suggested with a smile, capping the lights as she moved through the room. "I'm sure he's thrilled that he knows you."

The Second Cycle