1


            Walking is good for the mind. At seeing the dawn, having walked for about an hour, he starts to think back to the dawn after the festival, how welcome the daylight had been after having fought goblins that came out of the darkness. That, in turn brings back the good memories of his newfound comrades-in-arms. His gut tells him that together, this fellowship could go on to do mighty deeds, and he stops up. Why should he be the one leaving, because of a heavy-handed father's misunderstanding. He stops for long moment, consciously fighting generations of tradition, but in the end he turns around. On the way back, he looks for a quarry he can take the leftovers of his rage out on, such as a deer, or maybe a fowl of some sorts.

2


            This early in the morning, the town was just beginning to wake from the night, so there were few people about to see Hrolfr returning with a deer slung over his shoulders. The common room of the Rusty Dragon was nearly empty, but for one small, miserable-looking figure hunched in a chair. It was a grey-haired halfling woman, one Hrolfr remembered seeing Bergi talk to earlier, and she kept glancing at a wrinkled scrap of parchment she had bunched up in her hand. On seeing the ranger, she hopped to the floor and scurried over.
            "Oh! Hrolfr the Rover, I was hoping one of you would be up soon. Please, I'd like to speak to all of you. It's... I think it's urgent, but I didn't want to disturb any of you in case it's just the worries of an old woman..." She looked up at Hrolfr with large, pleading eyes. Outside, the dawn bells began to toll at the cathedral, calling the town to rise.
            Hrolfr looks down toward the old woman. His mood had improved greatly on having spotted and felled a young buck on his way back... there is just something therapeutic about having someone else's blood on your hands. "Don't worry, grandmother. Let me just find somewhere to hang this and wash up, and we'll have a look at your problem." He then turns towards the counter and looks for Ameiko.
            Ameiko, oddly enough, wasn't anywhere in sight. Come to think of it, the usual smells of breakfast were missing, too.
            "Oh! Is that for the kitchen? It's right through there," the halfling said, pointing toward the back of the inn. "I'll bring a pitcher of water and a basin for you."
            Hrolfr walks through to the kitchen and finds a convenient hook to hang his catch on before going back out to wash his hands. "I will get one of the others down, then you can tell us what this is all about." He then walks very quietly into the sleeping area and finds Amismara's pallet. He puts his hand on her shoulder and says quietly: "Sorry to wake you, but there is an old woman in the common room that sounds like she has a problem. I think she may find your presence more comforting than mine, and I wouldn't mind a second opinion before I start rousing the others"
            "You're not waking me, Hrolf, it's not a problem. I had done some prayers at sunrise, but returned to bed to recover a bit more from last night. I'm ready to get up now. Where's this woman?"

3


            Bergi had gone to bed in the modest, halfling-sized abode she shared with herparents and her mother's rescued stray cat, and managed to sleep well enough that she felt rested when she woke up with the dawn. If their family had been more gifted financially, the Kauflebaums would have built their home more traditionally, leaving a lower floor sized for human visitors, but as it was, the house was just the right size for the small family, with the cat occupying the space that Bergi's older brother used to. Sometimes, she swore she felt his presence in his old room, an impossibility, as her brother had already made the Great Journey two years ago after a freak accident on a ship he'd been hired on.
            Otryl Kauflebaum was preparing to leave the house for the first runs of the day when his daughter entered the cramped main room, wherein Niulu's brown tabby, Harrow, was stretched across the dining table. The older halfling raised a hand to greet his daughter, his ritual morning peppered breadcrust held in his teeth as he laced up his boots which he proudly wore, claiming to be the only halfling who dared to cover his feet daily. Indeed, they did look comfortable(they were the gift of a very rich patron), but in order to be so, they were the size of barges. Niulu hated those shoes.
            "G'morning, Papa," Bergi chimed, taking a seat next to the tabby's face and petting the creature's back until she heard a steady purr.
            Otryl made eye contact with his daughter and forced his breakfast down in a few bites. "You must have swung in quite late last night, eh?" the man asked, chuckling pleasantly. "Perhaps it's a bit too early to ask how adventuring is treating you?"
            Bergi mirrored the laughter in her own tone. "Oh, come now, feeling unfortunate that you're on of the only parents of an adventurer that gets to have them come home every night?"
            "Not as such, little Chaldira, not as such... but it has only been a little while. Have you much to show for it?" the older halfling asked, folding his britches around the tips of his custom footwear.
            "Lord Foxglove gifted me with a pony." the bard replied, jumping in surprise as Harrow leapt from her napping place.
            "Just what you always wanted, I suppose. Well, just watch your roots, sapling, and be careful, eh? It's a dangerous world out there. A handful of gold isn't worth a life." Otryl advised while putting on his messenger's satchel.
            "Oh, come on, Papa... I'm not that reckless. Or greedy." the bard assured, getting up and putting on her own equipment she'd left by the door.
            "Says the child who nearly drowned over a dropped gold piece," Otryl deadpanned, giving his child a sly sideways glance.
            "Being ten clouds your judgement, you know." Bergi retorted, her hands busied with tying back her hair.
            "Well, best you stop being ten then, Bergi. I'm off to my duties, as you should be, too." Otryl instructed, scratching his graying sideburns. "Niulu's already running messages."
            "Very well. Say good morning to Mama for me! I love you both!"
            The two halflings embraced briefly before heading their seperate ways.

4


            Bergi ran the entire way to the inn for several reasons. Firstly, because her family really did have a good work ethic. Secondly, the halfling wanted to check on Hrolfr, and thirdly, who wouldn't get excited if they got to mingle with personal heroes and their best friend every day?
            Bergi entered the Rusty Dragon with the sense that something was wrong. Where were the smells of breakfast, and Ameiko at the bar? It was compounded by the sight of her grandmother Bethana sitting by the stage, looking forlorn. She didn't even smile at Bergi. Amismara and Hrolfr came down the stairs, and Bethana nodded to them. "I'll wait to tell you my worries until you're all gathered."
            The bard's face fell like a sack of bricks. Noting the lack of Ameiko hardly made the situation any better.

5


            Concerned, Amismara helped gather the others. Hrolfr accompanies Amismara on her way out to get the two Shoanti. On his way out, he stops beside Bergi and squats, so his face is level with her's. "I never said thank you for taking care of me yesterday. As for sorry, don't be. You didn't have anything to do with it, and I now owe you a favor." With that, he rises again and starts walking after Amismara.
            Seeing Hrolfr back on his feet unimpeded had already done Bergi some good before the exchange had even taken place. That, combined with Amismara's reassuring presence, had spurred her out of her trepidation. "You don't owe me anything." Bergi said quietly, running after Amismara and Hrolfr as to not be left behind. Honestly, though, she was touched that the ranger was willing to communicate on her level. Even the friendliest of roaming spirits often overlooked (no pun intended) that they were 'up there' and she was 'down here'.
            As much as she wished to stay with her grandmother, just being in the same room with such a tense air might drive the young halfling mad. At least this way she could move her legs. She'd have to, anyway, to keep up with the cleric and ranger if they maintained an urgent pace, which the bard hoped they did; Bethana's nerves weren't easily affected so.

6


            The White Deer was a good deal cleaner than the Rusty Dragon, but like in the Dragon, the common room was largely empty this early. A quick check of the kitchen brought out Mrs. Viskalai, who agreed to show them to Gronk and Andok's rooms, since they were the Heroes. The smell of food made the group's bellies rumble as they climbed the stairs to the rooms above, and soon Andok and Gronk had joined them.
            By now the cathedral bells had roused most of the town, and woodsmoke floated on the air as the townsfolk prepared for the day. On their way back down Main Street, the town guards Kilana and Nilly stopped them. "It's a good thing you're up! We were just going to fetch you. The Sheriff and Mayor Deverin would like you to come to the town hall right away." They pointed at the large building the group had just passed.
            Andok had been up for a little while, practicing his fighting forms in the solitude of his room. When the rest of the party arrives, he happily joins them, grabbing his staff from beside the door as he leaves, and a piece of bread from the kitchen as they cross through the common room.
            At the interruption of the guards, Andok swallows the large mouthful of bread he'd been masticating. "Do we speak to the mayor or our distressed halfling friend first?," he quietly asks the group. "Either should be a delay of simply a moment."
            The halfling's stomach grumbled as she looked up, panting from her running around. The next meal would taste like paradise, no matter what it was. "Mayor... Deverin... I want... to be able... to give grandma my full attention, so-," Bergi took a deep breath and looked to the two-story town hall,"-let's get this out of the way. It's probably important."
            Bergi again filled her lungs up with oxygen before sprinting back to the building in question.
            Amismara felt discomfort in her stomach, too, but it was from a growing sense of dread, not hunger. "Something's gone wrong", she thought. She nodded grimly at Bergi and followed the halfling to town hall along with the others.
            The watchmen led the group through the town hall to the Mayor's office, where they were admitted immediately. Inside, Mayor Kendra Deverin turned from the window she was gazing out of and gave the Heroes a nod of welcome. The Sheriff was there too, looking grim as usual, and a ragged-seeming elven woman they didn't know (except for Bergi, who recognized her as a friend of Ameiko's), with the look of an adventurer about her - she bore well-used weapons and armor, and a bow was slung over her shoulder.
            The office was neat and not as large as one might expect for a mayor, appointed with solid working furniture that had a bare minimum of adornment. When the watchmen departed and the door to her office had closed, Mayor Deverin invited the group to sit. "Thank you for coming. In light of your deeds at the Festival, I thought the information we have just received might interest you. But I'm getting ahead of myself."
            She came around her desk to shake hands with each of them, even Bergi and Gronk. "I know what you did for us during the goblin raid saved lives, and probably kept the goblins from burning down half the town. I can't thank you enough for your actions." She returned to the seat behind her desk and nodded to the Sheriff.
            Sheriff Hemlock stepped forward, gesturing to the elven woman. "This is Shalelu Andosana, an unofficial member of Sandpoint's town guard." This introduction made the tall elf smirk tiredly. "Shalelu, as you can hear, this is Sandpoint's newest crop of heroes." Her large elven eyes flickered over each of them consideringly, as if weighing them.
            "Shalelu has been a thorn in the side of the local goblin tribes for years," the Sheriff continued. "I doubt there are many people in the region who know more about them than her. Unfortunately, she has brought us some bad news.
            "Sandpoint isn't the only place in the region that's been having goblin troubles. Goblin-related raids have been increasing all along the Lost Coast Road, and especially in the dale between Nettlewood and Mosswood. Only a day ago, a farm south of Mosswood was burnt to the ground by a group of goblins." He held up a calming hand. "Thankfully Shalelu was nearby, and while she couldn't do anything about the farm, she rescued the family and drove off the goblins. The family is staying at a nearby farm for now. But obviously, the goblin problem is not going away. Shalelu, tell them what you told us."
            She nodded and came forward to lean against the Mayor's desk, her arms crossed. "Belor's told me of your work against the goblins - well done. I've dedicated the last several years of my life to keeping them from causing too much trouble around these parts, but they're tenacious and fecund little runts. Like weeds that bite.
            "Anyway, there's five major goblin tribes in the region, and, traditionally, they're pretty good at keeping each other in line with intertribal squabbles and the like. Yet from what I've been able to piece together, members of all five tribes were involved in the raid on Sandpoint. A fair amount of the Mosswood tribe goblins I dealt with yesterday were already pretty beat up, and there was a lot of chatter about the 'longshanks' who killed so many of them. Now that I've met you, it seems obvious from their descriptions who they were talking about. Seems like you've made an impression.
            "In any event, the fact that the five tribes are working together disturbs me. Goblin tribes don't get along unless they've got something big planned, and big plans require big bosses. I'm afraid that someone's moved in on the goblins and organized them. And judging by these recent raids, what they're organizing seems like bad news for all of us."
            Sheriff Hemlock nodded in agreement. "I'm taking a few watchmen south to Magnimar to see about securing additional soldiers to station at Sandpoint for a few weeks, at least until the extent of the goblin threat can be determined. I've asked Shalelu to sniff around Shank's Wood, Devil's Platter and other places where goblins live to see if she can discover anything else about what's going on while I'm out of town."
            "Rumors are no doubt already flying," the Sheriff rumbled, "so if you don't mind, I'd like you to maintain a public presence here in town for the next few days. The locals seem to have taken to you," he said, his gaze catching Bergi's for a moment, "and seeing you around town will do a lot for keeping worries down over the next few days."
            Hrolfr listens with interest to the Sheriff's and Shalelu's description of the Goblin situation. As soon as the Sheriff has uttered his request for them to maintain a public presence, he looks around the room before opening his mouth. "I have no problem with walking around town, seeing and being seen and all that. The only catch I can think of is that I made a promise to help an old lady earlier today, and I intend to keep that promise. Hopefully, whatever she needs help with is also in town or it can wait a few days." With that, he looks around the table and gets ready to leave for the Rusty Dragon.
            The cleric listened with concern to all the talk of goblins and danger. Putting a friendly, calming hand on Bergi's shoulder, she said "I'm happy to help all the fine people of Sandpoint. I've grown quite fond of them as well."
            Bergi looked from Shalelu to Sheriff Hemlock nervously. "It's no problem here, like you know, but... have either of you seen Ameiko today?"
            The halfling let her eyes alight on the blonde-haired elf. "Did she decide to go with you, or something, maybe?"
            Andosana, who had been picking up and shouldering her pack, glanced at Bergi as she put it on. "I didn't stop by the Dragon this time around. The news seemed too dire to wait with telling. Isn't she there?"
            "If she isn't, she may have gone to the new cathedral to make an offering, or out to secure food for her guests at the meat market or grocer's hall," Sheriff Hemlock grunted. He nodded to the Heroes. "Thank you for staying in town. I'll see you in a few days." With that, he departed the Mayor's office.
            "If you'll be at the Dragon tonight, I'd like to hear more about the Swallowtail raid over dinner," Andosana said, pausing on her way out the door. "And I can tell you more about the local goblins, if you're interested." Then she, too, hurried off.
            The Mayor thanked them again for their efforts and for agreeing to stay in town before they filed out to go see what old Bethana was so upset about.

7


            By now the common room was bustling with merchants and other travelers eating a breakfast a good deal more bland than that usually served at the Rusty Dragon. Bethana spotted the Heroes immediately and gestured for them to follow her up the stairs, where she led them into the room she shared with two other members of the Dragon's staff. The room was neat as a pin and held three soft beds rather than the straw pallets that filled the guests' rooms. There was also a table with four chairs, and the old woman took one, motioning for them to sit wherever there was room by the table or on the beds.
            "Thank you all for coming. My name is Bethana Corwin, Bergi's grandmother. I'm the head maid here at the Rusty Dragon, and I like to think I'm a good friend of Ameiko's, too. So let me tell you why I'm so worried."
            "For the first time I can remember, Ameiko hasn't started breakfast," the halfling began, keeping her voice low. "I knocked on her door to see if she was sick, but no one answered. Against my better judgement I went in anyway, and the room was empty - she hasn't even slept in her bed! And then I found this." She held out the wrinkled parchment she had been clutching so tightly ever since Hrolfr had seen her that morning. It looked as though it had been crumpled up and then smoothed out again, and was covered with strange symbols.
            "It's written in the family's native tongue," Bethana explained, "but Ameiko has been teaching it to me. I translated it on the other side." She waited for them to read it, twisting her hands unhappily.
            The letter read:

Tsuto's note

            When they had finished the letter, Bethana explained, "Tsuto was something of a scandal when he was born, twenty-one years ago, because he's a half-elf. Neither of Ameiko's parents are elves, you see," she noted sagely with big eyes. "Lord Kaijitsu's rage at the discovery of his wife's indiscretion was the talk of the town for months. Lady Kaijitsu never revealed who the father was, and it's a testament to Lord Kaijitsu's stubbornness that they remained married. Tsuto was handed over to the Turandarok Academy to be raised outside of the Kaijitsu family, ignored by his father and forbidden visits from his mother."
            "Ameiko would visit him in secret a few times a month to keep him company, bring him some food, and promise that someday things would get all sorted out. That all changed six years ago, when they had a terrible argument in which Tsuto struck Ameiko. I don't know what the argument was about, but whatever it was, it sent Ameiko away from Sandpoint for a year, making a living as an adventurer."
            "She returned to Sandpoint five years ago to attend her mother's funeral. Tsuto was quite public in his opinion that his father had pushed his mother off the cliff to her death, and during the funeral there was a confrontation. Lord Kaijitsu nearly broke Tsuto's jaw with his cane, after which Tsuto cursed him and left Sandpoint. Ameiko has tried to reestablish contact with him ever since, but was never able to track him down."
            "I'm sure he's up to no good," Bethana fretted, looking pleadingly from one member of the group to the next. "Please, won't you go to the Glassworks and find out what happened to Ameiko? I can't believe she would stay away from the Dragon for so long."
            "Atgais!" the Bard replied, swearing with the crowning artifact of all halfling curses.
            "Bergi!" Bethana exclaimed, scandalized.
            Bergi met her grandmother's gaze with more panic than solemnity. She'd forgotten entirely about breakfast, now. Much to the contrary, she was started to bolt for the door to run for the Glassworks.
            "Hold, Bergi, please!" Amismara said, reaching out a hand. "If there is help needed at the Glassworks, let us approach with caution. Remember what we told you about Evan and the snake. We should move with haste, not recklessness." She held Bergi's small hand gently in her own as she spoke. Turning to the others, she asked, "Does anyone need supplies before we go, or can we leave together now?"
            Andok grimly nodded at Amismara's cautious warnings. "Those who hurry often trip," the monk says tersely. "I am prepared with my supplies, but I will wait for whatever preparations any of the rest of you need to make."
            "Thank you so much!" Bethana said, full of gratitude and relief. "It may just be the worrying of an old woman, but if it isn't... oh, I hope Ameiko is all right!"

8


            Hrolfr discreetly drops his backpack by his sleeping pallet, but takes his shortsword and greataxe along with his bow. After retrieving what equipment they thought they would need, they hurried to the Glassworks with Bergi leading the way.
            The impressive building lay just off Main Street - on Glass Street, of course, overlooking the cliffs down to the beach. Though the small town was now busy with morning activities, the Glassworks was curiously silent. A quick investigation of the building perimeter revealed that curtains had been drawn over the windows, and all the doors were locked.
            Hrolfr takes a quick look around the premises. The big Glassworks building rested next to a smaller building that Andok recognized as the House of Blue Stones. It stretched from Gull Street all the way to Rat Alley, surrounded on the town side by residences. A number of neighbors watched the party with interest.
            It was at this point that Bergi truly lamented turning down lessons from her older brother in the art of lockpicking. She eyed the mechanisma as one would an old mortal enemy. Bergi didn't care too much what the nearby townsfolk thought in this emergency, but she couldn't break most things if she tried, let alone a door.
            "Surely one of you can break this damned thing down?!" she asked in a desperate whisper, looking to the rest of the party urgently before getting a hold of herself.
            "Oh, oh, oh...," Bergi muttered a few seconds after the last outbreak, rubbing her thumbs on her temples. "If only we had the key... Ameiko, please be okay...,"
            Bergi jumped up, realizing she'd overlooked something very simple. "Oh, that's right! The key! If Lord Kaijitsu is home, he'll have a copy at his manner!"
            Hrolfr, who had just raised his greataxe and was preparing to swing it at the wooden door, paused at hearing Bergi's comment and put his axe back down. He looks up at the walls, trying to see if he could climb up to the roof or a second story window. There didn't appear to be a second story to the building, but the walls were decorated with various embellishments, and Hrolfr judged that it would be possible for a good climber to reach the roof.
            Hrolfr takes a long, hard look at the roof before placing his axe, longbow and quiver up against the wall. He takes a handful of sand and rubs his palm in it to dry them, then starts his ascent. Hrolfr clambered up the wall and sloped roof easily, drawing some attention from the neighbors and passers-by. One, more curious than the others, came up to where the party stood and asked, "Isn't that Hrolfr the Rover? What's he doing up there?" The woman (whom Bergi recognized as Mrs. Nettie Bean) had to speak loudly, for even out here the rumble of the Glasswork's great furnace could be heard.
            "The Glassworks is locked, Mrs. Bean!" Bergi explained with urgency, green eyes flashing. "-and we need to make sure everything is okay!" The halfling fixed her attention back up to the roof along with the onlookers. "There might not even be time to get the key from Kaijitsu manner... but these are the heroes of Sandpoint, right? You can trust them."
            "They're probably just working on a secret new project, don't you think?" Mrs. Bean said, but Bergi's urgency made her voice uncertain. "Wh... why are you so worried? Why isn't there time to get the key?"

9


            Atop the Glassworks, Hrolfr had a truly impressive view of the bay, no doubt only topped by the view from the Old Light itself. Thick smoke from the chimneys blew around him in clouds as he looked around. Even more impressive were the huge glass skylights set into the roof - they must have cost a fortune.
            Only taking the briefest of moments to enjoy the view, Hrolfr pads lightly (well, as lightly as a 6'5" northener can) towards the skylights, wiping the soot off each of them to see if he can see whether something is happening on the inside.
            The first skylight immediately revealed not all was well inside the Glassworks. Red smears marred the large worktable and floor below, and Hrolfr thought he saw something small dart past at the edge of the light thrown down into the dim interior.
            The second skylight confirmed what the first had hinted at. Goblins danced and capered in and out of the light from above, throwing glass objects and dueling with what looked horribly like human arms and legs. They darted around and under gore-spattered tables and what looked like an enormous blob of glass.
            A quick check of the last small skylight revealed more of the same; Hrolfr could even see what looked like the body of a man lying in a pool of red - at least, the torso of a man. The large skylight showed items of glass on display, some smashed. The scenes were all the more eerie for their silence, only the rumble of the furnace audible so high above.
            With a grim determination, Hrolfr eases away from the skylight and pads across the roof to the front of the building. He holds up his palm in the ubiquitous "halt" gesture and mouths "GOBLINS", pointing his finger down at the roof, moving it up and down. He then proceeds to climb down from the roof as silently as he can.
            Hrolfr had no trouble climbing down. However, the onlookers, the memories of the Swallowtail raid still fresh in their minds, had joined Mrs. Bean, her unease spreading through them quickly.
            "What did he say up there?"
            "What's wrong? My son works in there!"
            "Is something going on in the Glassworks?"
            A frightened mutter began to spread among those gathered, and the gathering attracted other townsfolk.
            "Dear people," Amismara began, trying to quell or deflect the growing concern. "We need your help. We have reason to believe that goblins once again threaten our town, and thus our duties become clear. If you have small children, go secure them in your homes. If you are militia, or know of their whereabouts, please help gather and alert our first line of defense, including the Sheriff. Importantly, we need to know if the apparent trouble here is just a diversion, and thus we ask you to check on your friends and neighbors. Meanwhile, we will not stand here idle. We will act quickly to provide what help we can here at the Glassworks. We need YOU to help the rest of Sandpoint!"
            Panic ensued as people ran about, some to spread the word or find their families and others to grab their loved ones and barricade themselves inside. The cry of "Goblins!" went up from all around as people dashed about, some dropping what they were holding in their haste to clear the streets. The townsfolk shouted for the Sheriff and the militia and at each other, but in the chaos of it all, no one appeared to care anymore about what the group was doing with the Glassworks. The exception was the man whose son worked inside, who attached himself to Andok's arm and pleaded for him to save his son.
            Amismara turned quickly to the others as Hrolfr returned. "Bergi is correct," she whispered. "We cannot wait on the key. We must move quickly if goblins are inside."
            The Shoanti calmly reassures the panicked father while he carefully extricates his arm from the man's grasp. "We will do everything within our power, sir - I will bring word of your son as soon as I can," he says. Once he's pried himself loose, he draws his quarterstaff and begins muttering meditations to himself in Shoanti.
            Hrolfr grabs his greataxe and makes eye contact with his comrades. When he has received their silent approval, he swings his axe at the door in an effort to break it down.

10


            It took over five minutes of dedicated chopping at the heavy oak door to break it down, during which time people began to run up and demand that the Heroes protect them from the goblin threat (preferably at their own homes), which rumor had turned into a full-scale invasion. Also, Hrolfr had to collar the father, who was about to run into the Glassworks after his son.
            Andok calmly ignores the townsfolk's panic as he continues to repeat his homemade meditations with his eyes closed, seeking the serenity that grants him strength. Once the door is finally open, he calmly takes the hysterical father from Hrolfr and half-carries him away from the door. "You will have news of your son upon our return," he says finally, before setting the man down and returning to his companions.
            The group entered the dim Glassworks. Inside, the light from the doorway fell on a tastefully appointed room (a bit exotic, like the Kaijitsus themselves), with several beautiful works of glass on a cabinet against the wall, and a few chairs around a desk. There was an inkwell and a few sheets of parchment neatly arranged on the desk. Three doors led from the room.
            Bergi quietly checked each door to see if any of them were locked, grateful to be away from the commotion outside. Amismara waited nervously as Bergi checked the doors. She wished she felt as calm as Andok appeared.
            None of the doors were locked. Behind one, a small office lay dark and empty, with another door on the side wall. Behind another, cabinets and shelves stacked with papers filled the room. But behind the one in the middle, there was a dark hallway. The rumble of the furnaces was quite loud there.
            Squinting down the hallway towards the rumbling furnaces, Amismara touched her finger to the tip of her glaive. "Bright eye, guide us", she whispered, and a bright, bluish light appeared on the polished blade.
            In the cool light from her glaive, the hallway revealed itself to widen a few feet from the door, splitting about fifteen feet forward to passages left and right.
            "Do you see anything?" the father called in an anxious stage whisper from the outside door.
            Bergi crept back to the outside door and responded in the lowest audible level she could manage she thought the man would understand.
            "Nothing really yet, except for a hallway. We're going to go ahead now, though... We'll come back as soon as we can." the halfling promised.
            "Oh, sir... I know this might be impossible for you, but could you find my own parents at the docks and let them know where we are, just in case something happens? You know them, right? Otryl and Niulu Kauflebaum? My da wears shoes."
            The man blinked, clearly not having expected such a plea. He glanced from Bergi to the other Heroes, making up his mind. "Well... I suppose I could do that... you just get Robban out of there, all right? I'll be right back!" He hurried away into the stream of people running about, leaving the Heroes free to conduct their business.
            Bergi gave a nervous smile and rejoined Amismara, looking as anxious as ever. "Which way?" she asked faintly, the question directed at pretty much anyone but herself.
            "I'm not sure, let's go look down both corridors" Amismara said.
            The corridor opened on the left into a wider space with many doors. On the right, there was a door at the end of the corridor. From here, the faint sounds of high-pitched shrieks of laughter and smashing glass could be heard over the rumble of the furnace.
            "I think we must confront the goblins, and do so quickly", Amismara said urgently, pointing towards the sounds. She moved to place herself near Hrolfr.
            They opened the door of the corridor on their right, entering a large room with shelf after shelf of colored substances in glass jars. A wheelbarrow leaned against the wall, and there was a safe on the floor, the door of which hung open to reveal the empty interior. There were several doors in this room as well, and two sets of double doors led out onto the street and deeper into the Glassworks, respectively. The sound of goblin laughter was louder here.
            Hrolfr draws his greataxe and steops towards the smaller door on the north wall. "Wait here, I'll have a look along this hallway. If the coast is clear, I'll knock three times on that door over there."
            Hrolfr opened the door only to find that there was no hallway behind it. Instead, a stairwell headed down into the darkness.

11


            After walking up the infernally rock-strewn road from the town, Calvio was tired. He was made for grander stuff than this, and the menial task he was assigned, of delivering a letter? Preposterous!
            Except. The Glassworks was quiet and dark. It was never quiet, the forges were manned all day long and there were always workers around. He stepped toward the open door and slipped inside. He looked around, noting that things were definitely out of sorts here, more than was ever apparent in the past.
            "Hello? Helloooo?" He shouted into the dark and echoing factory. "Is anyone in here? Mr. Kaijitsu? Are you here? I have a message for you!"
            No glassworkers answered, nor did Lord Kaijitsu appear - but more than that, the door he had entered through had been smashed into kindling. All the windows had curtains drawn before them, making it dark inside, but the deep rumble of the furnace suggested that someone was present, if only to tend the fire. Before him, a door to a long corridor stood open, the hallway beyond a black gaping maw.
            Outside the Glassworks, townsfolk were running about the streets and yelling; he caught the word "goblins!" more than once.
            Inside, the party could hear the stranger's voice calling.

12


            Bergi was awaiting for Hrolfr's promised three knocks for safety or the sounds of battle when she caught wind of Calvio's bellow. She braced herself against the wall, initially, having been startled, but true to her kind's intrepid nature, she came out of the start just as quickly.
            The bard shared a quick glance with Amismara, as if asking permission to go back and find the newcomer (before he alerted all the goblins in the glassworks to the party's presence). The cleric of Shelyn gave a quick nod, hoping Bergi would be able fend off what was likely another interloping townsman. She then turned her attention back in Hrolfr's direction.
            "I'll be right back," she whispered, taking the kind-hearted cleric's response as approval (whether or not it was, as she'd broken the aforementioned glance as soon as it had been conveyed, and instead had cast her gaze back to the way from whence they came).
            Bergi made her way back to the entrance hall, trying to keep her steps as quiet as possible.
            Bergi recognized the newcomer immediately - Calvio was a known troublemaker whom no one seemed to like. A Varisian man, he had left town some time ago - right after the Late Unpleasantness, in fact - but now here he was, looking for Lord Kaijitsu.
            Calvio was clad in what could charitably be called flamboyant clothes: purple silk shirt, black trousers, white scarf capped off with a deep blue ankle-length coat covered in stars and moons. His hair was thinning, his face was more lined, but other than that, he looks much as you remembered him: sly, arrogant and handsome. He started when you slipped around the corner.
            "Bergi? Are you working at the Glassworks now? Where's Lord Kaijitsu? I have a letter for him, I'm supposed to see it gets into his hands and his hands alone. Urgent, you know. Where's everyone gone here? And why is the door broken down?"
            The halfling responded with a slight smile, at first. She wasn't there to make any judgements, though she did wonder where the man had been the past few years as natural curiosity dictated. To enable quiet conversation, she drew closer.
            Upon starting to explain the situation in a serious whisper, her expression fell back into nervousness siding on outright panic, betraying that the situation was indeed dire.
            "No, I don't work here, persay, and Lord Kaijitsu is either re-pressing his footprints (a halfling phrase meaning to waste time elsewhere), or is somewhere in here and in danger, along with everyone else. There are goblins in the complex, and Ameiko... Ameiko might be here as well," as attached as Bergi was to the innkeeper, the halfling had to steady her voice.
            "I'm here with a few of the heroes of Sandpoint, and Hrolfr the Rover broke down the door. He, along with Amismara, are waiting up ahead. I can't stay long."
            The halfling courier looked at the package and felt a wave of professional empathy. "If you can defend yourself, I'll bring you back with me, and you can help us look. Otherwise, you'd best get to safety, Calvio."
            Bergi drew away, preparing to make her way back to the rest of the party, but not without turning back to give a more earnest smile. "Oh, and I know this might be a bad time, but welcome home."
            Calvio grimaced. "Well, if he's here, then I guess I'm with you; the errand-giver seemed pretty certain about the letter getting to Kaijitsu. And why would Ameiko be here? I thought she and her father were on the outs? Oh, and thank you for the homecoming. It has been an interesting return. Anyway," Calvio drew his staff close to his chest, "I can take care of myself, thank you. Lead on. Sooner started, sooner finished." He tried to keep his footsteps quiet and followed the halfling woman, wondering what goblins in the Glassworks portended and how such a situation had come to pass...
            Bergi led the wizard back to the place she'd last interacted with Amismara, halting from time to time to make sure the coast was still clear. The two found the Heroes poised by a set of double-doors leading deeper into the Glassworks. The sound of goblin shrieks of laughter and glass breaking was loud enough to be heard over the rumble of the furnace.

13


            Hrolfr backs up out of the doorway. "Basement", he says and pads over to the double doors. He looks around the room, making eye contact with his companions. "Ready?"
            When everyone had taken up position, Hrolfr eased one of the doors open a crack, and the loud rumble of the furnace filled the room.
            Inside, there was bedlam. The room was long, with a long furnace burning all along the inner wall. Marble and wooden tables cluttered with glassworking tools were scattered throughout the room. It was crawling with goblins, who were running about through the bars of light from the skylights yelling, throwing glass left and right, and playing with what could only be the gruesome remains of the Glassworks workers. They lay in various stages of dismemberment, and some goblins were pouring molten glass over parts of them; the sickly smell of burnt flesh hung in the air. The goblins were busy with their fun, and didn't appear to have noticed Hrolfr, despite the bluish light shining into the dim interior from behind him.
            Aghast at the sight before her, Amismara stood tall, raised her glaive in outrage, and spoke. "Shelyn! Bless us and guide as we defend and avenge!" She made ready to stride forward, her eyes misting slightly at the carnage and destruction.

14


            Once he heard the Heroes of Sandpoint say that there were goblins in the Gladssworks, Quickfoot rushed back to the theater and grabbed the remains of his parents possessions. The thick leather vest and skirt, the rapier and mace, the dagger hidden just so behind his neck, the collection of shims, wires and other assorted tools that gave him access to places so many did not know he went and finally the bow and arrows. He rushed back to the Glassworks and saw the back of a flamboyantly dressed man disappear into the now-open doorway. Screwing up his courage he followed behind them, stealthy as he was able, an arrow nocked to the bowstring, the colors of his once fine tumblers costume muted from hard wear and the gloom inside the building.

15


            It takes some time for the cry to reach the north gate, but the dwarf answers it with a hearty roar and a fire in his eyes. "Goblins? Haar kurs de jodrukat? HUZZAH! De kamp bi annam mi!" (Goblins? Here in the town? Battle is apon me!) the Dwarf muttered in thick dwarvish, rushing into his chambers, hastily donning his armour and, leaving his shield by the door he barrels past the baffled innkeeper, plowing down Cliff Street with heavy, clanking steps.
            He rushes through the open door, weapon raised high and letting out a bellowing battlecry so loud it could be heard blocks away. He barrels into the sitting room, seeming dissapointed to find not Goblins, but an elf. He tucked his thumbs into his broad belt, peering at Quickfoot suspiciously as he makes his way down the hall. "What're you doing sneaking around here, you... you sneak!?" he demanded, poking a grubby finger at the elf and scowling.
            As the dwarf made his way toward the skulking elf, who stood in a bluish light coming from around the corner, he was interrupted by a woman's voice calling on Shelyn to bless her comrades.
            The party had heard Aeric's monstrous bellow, as had the goblins, who stopped what they were doing to look around in surprise. Gronk and Andok rushed into the room, weapons ready, taking advantage of the goblins' shock to get closer.
            There was a rush for the door into the glassworking hall from the party and the newcomers.
            Hrolfr stares at the scene for a short while. His glimpse from the skylight had prepared him for what he was seeing, but only slightly. The smells and not least the sounds of the little devils playing around with human remains brings back memories of villages raided by goblins when he was a younger man hunting their northern cousins in the land of the Linnorm Kings. He forces himself out of his reverie and steps forward, one step at a time, increasing the pace with each step.
            As he ran towards the goblin he had chosen, a handful more came into view, interrupted in doing horrible things to the worker's arms and legs on the marble slab of a table in front of the furnace. His dark memories fueled his strength as he chopped at his target with his battleaxe, sending it spinning to the floor in a spray of blood.
            The halfling looked like she was going to be sick, both with anger and grief; her wide eyes shifting quickly from one set of remains to the next. Like Calvio, she knew some of these people, and doubtless had seen the communal workings caused by all. Every single corpse on the floor was a broken shard of the town she called home. And what of the father they'd sent away? There could be no hope for his son in this mess.
            The burning sensation in the bard's eyes and the back of her throat made it almost too hard to sing, but switching the melody to a lament managed to push away some of the more crippling effects of what her biology wanted to do. Bergi had to sing at the very top of her lungs to be heard over the furnace, but her song of sorrow touched all who heard it.
            As Bergi's lament filled her ears, Amismara rushed forward, her hair flowing wildly behind her and her face a glowering storm of anger. As she passed the first table, some strands of her hair began to float up with a gathering electrical charge, one she soon released upon a goblin not far away.
            The goblin yelped as lightning struck it, blackening it so that only its surprised red eyes remained clear. Gronk rushed by Amismara, leaping onto a small wooden table to swing at the goblins gaping at Hrolfr. His earthbreaker knocked one into the side of the furnace, where it dropped to the floor, senseless.
            Andok rounded a marble table slick with blood to guard Amismara's flank even as he spun his quarterstaff at her fried goblin, knocking it down with a meaty crack.
            Calvio stared in horror for a moment at the carnage the goblins had created. He had no terrible love for the people of Sandpoint, but he had grown up here, had played with some of these men, had known them and their families. His eyes grew hard and his hands twitched. 'If they want horror, by the gods I'll give them horror,' he thought as arcane syllables erupted from his mouth!
            The thing that erupted in a spurt of flame from the nearest furnace opening was an exercise in horror. It was tall and thin, 20 feet high with skeletal flaming bat wings upon its back. The body was of an emaciated ape, the head a wolf's skull on fire. Its feet were cloven hooves and it wielded a flaming sword. It pointed at the nearest goblin and smiled a hungry smile.
            The stunned goblins had no time to react before Hrolfr stepped in and cut down another goblin that had been standing on the table. Then Quickfoot sent an arrow at the nearest goblin, the arrow whipping past Hrolfr to lodge in the little monster's chest. It looked down at the arrow stupidly as its comrades burst into pandemonium.
            Goblins began pouring out of the woodwork, scampering with manic speed over and under the tables; the first wave of them came running from around the corner of the great furnace in the middle of the room only to pile to a stop and scamper away at the sight of Calvio's illusion. They began flinging glass lamps, bottles and jars at it and shooting bows hurriedly pulled off their backs at it, ignoring the other intruders in their fright. The "demon" seemed to strike the glass objects, shattering them into pieces, but a few bits of the barrage got through. Those who could understand the goblins' scratchy language heard some of them begin to yell, "No bigbad! Fakefake! Fakefake!"
            One of those in the back of the room flung a pane of clear glass high into the air, where it whirred past Andok's defense and smashed against his head, leaving gouges in his bald pate. Still, apart from that, Calvio's illusion had bought the Heroes a little time.
            Gronk ran across the room, smashing his earthbreaker down through a glass jug a goblin had raised over its head protectively. Andok stepped out of the mess of glass shards around him to confront the goblin's comrade, but the Shoanti wasn't quite as fast as the little menace, who danced back and blew a resounding raspberry at him.
            Calvio winced as the goblins began to shout fake at his illusion. Clearly he still had a lot to learn regarding the crafting of his art if mere goblins could see through it so soon. He ceased concentrating on the figure, which lingered despite his loss of control. He stepped forward, climbing onto a table and holding aloft his staff in a suitably grandiose fashion, and pointed at the goblin facing Andok. With a cry of "OBLIVIATE!" a thin ray of black light arced toward the goblin!
            Unfortunately Andok was in the way, and in his efforts not to strike the man Calvio missed the goblin, as well.
            Hrolfr, seemingly undisturbed by the unfamiliar voices behind him adjusted the grip on his axe and, half-running, half-skipping ahead swung it from below at the foremost goblin in the throng before him. As he did so, a guttural growling scream left his lips as he summoned strength for a powerful blow.
            The goblin zipped out of the way of his attack with frantic speed, waggling its butt at him in mockery.
            Quickfoot almost drops his bow in horror at Calvio's conjuration, but is remarkably reassured by the goblins calls of "Fakefake." Bergi's music seems to flow through his arms and into his bow. He focuses grimly on the task at hand as a dozen goblins seem to boil out of the woodwork. With every arrow he sends at the horde, he whispers a bit louder, "Sandpoint... Sandpoint... Sandpoint..."
            The first goblin he targeted, who had been hiding under the table, cowering and trying to pull free the arrow from its chest, was understandably startled when another arrow whipped into its hiding place. It jumped, bumping its head on the bottom of the table, and looked around with wide little red eyes for the source of its attacker.
            Amismara stepped forward and extended her hand towards the goblin that had escaped both Andok and Calvio's attentions. With the wall of fighting men between her and any targets, however, she simply couldn't get a clean shot.
            "Fakefake" or not, the goblins continued to give Calvio's demon a wide berth - an effort made easier by the fact that the fighters had moved past it already. The one Quickfoot had shot at tipped over a tin pail of water and hid under it, while the other goblins came running at the warriors in a veritable flood. Andok went down under it almost immediately, as two goblins teamed up to slash at him with dogslicers wielded with wicked accuracy. A hail of glass and arrows were directed at Gronk - the goblins seemed to think the huge Shoanti was more dangerous than the grim Ulfen warrior near the furnace.
            Fortunately for Andok, Aeric was quick to stand over him, protecting him from further goblin mischief.
            Aeric rushes to the front lines, stopping to eye up the others around him, nodding appraisingly at Hrolfr as he joins him in the fray.
            The bard didn't stop singing, but she jerked visibly upon watching the monk go down.
            As a reaction, Bergi ran over to the back of the front lines until she was adjacent to Amismara, no longer having to deal with cover as an issue. However, judging by the reactions of the front-line fighters and the ease at which Andok was taken down, there had to be quite a few.
            Tersely, she loaded an arrow.
            Heedless of his wounds, Gronk knocked back another goblin with a Shoanti howl and stepped into the breach as Calvio surveyed the scene.
            Calvio shook his head as the illusory fiend faded from sight. His blinding ray was ineffective in the tight confines and his illusion was seen through. Perhaps it was time to take matters into hand in other ways?
            Calvio stepped forward, his staff held across his body. Glass pierced his boots, forcing him to slow, but he paid it no heed. At the very least his presence may keep the fiendish little fools from attacking an unconscious man. He holds aloft his staff and began chanting the words that would summon a flood of colors to assault the senses of the gobs in front of him!
            Reaching into his spell component pouch, he withdrew several handfuls of different colored sand, blowing it at the frenzied goblins. They coughed and spat for an instant, rubbing their eyes; then their tiny eyes rolled up and they dropped to the floor. Red-hot glass tongs and other equipment clattered from their loose hands.
            Hrolfr bellows an old war-cry and swings his axe at the oncoming goblins. The blow glanced off the goblin's armor, but it no longer looked like shaking its butt at him was a priority.
            Quickfoot shakes his head at the goblin's unorthodox tactics. "I'll never get to him while he's under that pail," the young elf mumbles to himself. Instead he turns his attention to the horde of goblins massing before the others. He takes aim at one towards the back and sends another arrow winging towards the new target.
            His arrow went wide, but the attacks from him and Hrolfr seemed to decide the goblins that were left. They broke and ran, tipping things to crash to the floor behind them and shrieking bloody murder. Even the one in the pail darted for the door, running into table legs (and worker's legs) on the way.
            Amismara hurried forward to tend to Andok, but it was too late - the monk was gone.
            The dwarf spares Gronk a sympathetic wince, but satisfied that he's under no immediate threat, the Dwarf will make around the room, flail at the ready. Holding the breach and stamping his feet in place, the Dwarf bellows a challenge. "Come git me ye pickled li'tle rats! There's fight left in us yet!"
            Witnessing the mass exodus to the fore of the fighters, Bergi swiveled around and shot at the retreating goblin behind her, hoping her arrow could hit the fleeing hellion. As soon as the arrow left her fingers, she inhaled deeply in order to keep the magical performance going for just a little bit longer. She chanced a glance at her fallen comrade and the healer standing over him, initially hopeful, but the positive impression swiftly gave way to doubt.
            Just as Bergi fired, the goblin tripped over someone's arm, and the arrow sped over its head. The goblin hurriedly regained its footing and ran on.
            Gronk, bleeding gruesomely from myriad glass cuts and a few arrow wounds, knelt by Andok with grief on his face. "Go with the spirits, my friend," he said quietly, reaching out to touch Andok's eyelids.
            The bard's song caught in her throat. Gronk's display betrayed the definitive fate of the monk in such a way that there could be no refute. Between this realization, the gore(coupled with the fear that one of the corpses underfoot belonged to Ameiko), and the human death-sculpture, Bergi just couldn't hold it back anymore. She began to sob wholeheartedly.
            The whole thing was brutally unfair. Andok didn't deserve to die. The shoanti had gone out of his way to help a bunch of strangers and protect Sandpoint more proficiently than much of the populace, and hadn't seemed ready to take the great journey, either. There was so much he hadn't seen or done… The halfling didn't know the monk for very long, but she knew he deserved better than to die by the hands of goblins in such a place. At lease such a virtuous life would be rewarded.
            Bergi made her way through the gathering to Gronk, whom she began to heal with what little music she could muster.
            Seeing his enemies fleeing before him gave Hrolfr a sudden urge to charge after him, but seeing Andok lying on the floor tempered it somewhat. He had a nagging feeling that the goblins weren't the only danger in the Glassworks, so he readied his weapon once again and moved forward to support his dwarven ally.
            Meanwhile, the sight of poor Andok and the blood from the others turned Amismara's thoughts to healing. She almost instinctively raised her hands to call on Shelyn to staunch the flow of life, but she saw the wounded goblins as well.
            Steeling herself to the harsh truth that her friends couldn't be properly helped until their enemies were dead, she grimly dispatched an unconscious goblin with her glaive.
            The rest of the goblins cleared out, unwilling to face the group that had felled so many of them. Now the glassworking hall was an even more grotesque sight, with dead or at least unconscious goblins scattered amid the dismembered and defiled remains of the Glassworks staff.
            With the fighting over, one thing drew their eye: a huge mass of hardened glass in the central alcove with a goblin slumped against it. When they approached it, they could make out the blurred shape of a man propped in a chair within, its features horribly burned by the glass that had been poured over it in thick, runny sheets.
            Calvio winced as the glass shards worked themselves into the soles of his feet through his shoes. He groaned when he saw the terrible carnage, but the sight of the man in the glass was a steeling moment. Moving carefully he stepped over the glass carefully and peered into the mass of glass, trying to see if he could identify the man. Unfortunately, between the blurry glass, the burned features and Calvio's years spent elsewhere, he couldn't be sure who the figure was.
            Quickfoot sends one final arrow after the fleeing goblin as he screams out in the little creature's foul tongue. "This'll teach you to hide under pails and come to our town!"
            That done, the elf draws his rapier in order to dispatch some of the goblins, but the still form of Andok catches his eye. "Oh no, Andok, is he ok?"
            Aeric makes his way to the door, pulling it open, adjusting his thick helmet and squinting out into the hallway. Satisfied the goblins are routed, he fidgets with the clasps on his helmet, removing it and mopping his brow. With deep, strained breaths, he steadies himself on the nearby table. His run down Cliff St, the heat of the furnace and the smell of gore and goblin-stink having caught up with him. He spits out a mouthful of beard and peers up expectantly at the faces around him for the first time. His weather-beaten skin is slick with sweat, and his thick features are twisted into a suspicious squint. His companions can truly hear him speak for the first time, in thick, heavily-accented Taldane. He appears to struggle somewhat with his words. "I... huff... The forge... it still burns so hot. They can't have been here long." he says, staring at the bodies at his feet. He dons his helmet again. "We should give chase. If we hurry we can still..." he begins, gruffly, staring up to find his comrades crowded around the fallen man.
            "Oh." he says, sheepishly, bowing his head reverently. "Magrim forge them anew in the underworld." he mutters, clasping a medallion in his calloused hands.
            Gronk grunted with relief as his wounds grew less severe. Yanking out a goblin arrow, he snapped it in his hand and tossed it aside. "Thank you, little one. I will need my strength for the journey ahead. But before I go, I will help you kill these goblins." He put a hand on Bergi's shoulder briefly, then rose and joined Amismara in ensuring that the goblins that were lying about stayed down.
            Calvio peers into the glass sculpture, still trying to make out the face. "Gentlemen? Ladies? There's a person inside this! And isn't Ameiko still missing?"
            "Then whoever it was was spared what was done to the rest of these people," Gronk answered, slamming his earthbreaker down with a splatter.
            Hrolfr was still too focused on his all too familiar foes to pay much heed to the macabre glass sculpture. He grabbed his longbow and ran after the goblins, pausing only to yell "Someone make sure the little devils are as dead as they look." Running towards the door, he pulled a broad-bladed hunting arrow from his quiver and lay against the bowstring.
            He burst into a hallway and turned left, following the pitter patter of little feet, but a few steps down that way made him realize that, beyond the dim light coming from behind the curtains somewhere behind him, the corridor was pitch black. Somewhere ahead, he heard a door open, and the sound of little feet receded.
            Hrolfr gradually slowed down, his wariness overcoming his bloodlust, for now. Shouldering his bow, he drew his shortsword and backed out of the hallway and into the great hall, rejoining his comrades-in-arms for a short while while he ran through the great hall towards the door on the other side. It may be that the goblins did not pose a threat to him or his group, but a single goblin could (and would!) maim innocent bystanders.
            The dwarf will give a nearby goblin one swift kick, before setting his weapon over his shoulder and barelling after the Ulfen man.

16


            The myriad voices amid the carnage were too much for Amismara. She wanted to mourn Andok, comfort and commiserate with Bergi, obey Hrolf, heal the wounded and assist Calvio all at once.
            The conflicting emotions began to well up in her like a storm. Her hair began to lift from her shoulders in a gathering of static electricity.
            "Damn these goblins!" she yelled in despair. She brought her glaive down again and again as her tears, too, began to flow.
            Gronk paused in his work to eye Amismara warily. "Do not be too sad. Soon we will have killed any survivers in this mess. Then I will take Andok's body back to our people, and he will be at peace."
            After a few more heavy heaves, the bard returned to her feet. She was a bit unsteady, and still crying so hard it made her frame shake, but she had to be sure that none of the dismembered corpses belonged to Ameiko. Like a sleepwalker, she examined each one, saying their name outloud if she recognized them, until she reached the glass-coated figure, if Quickfoot didn't identify it first.
            What remained of the Glassworks workers was sometimes so mangled, Bergi couldn't be sure of who they all had been. But the figure in the glass she recognized.
            It was Lord Kaijitsu.
            In some sort of perverse way, Bergi was relieved. She hadn't found Ameiko's remains at all (in this room, at least), and while there was a Kaijitsu present and quite dead, it wasn't the one she so worried for. Not that she wanted the older glassmaker to die, of course, and she still had to feel for Ameiko if she survived in having to face this new reality.
            "I-it's Lord K-Kaijitsu," she stammered, stilling her voice so that Calvio, in particular, could make out this identification.
            Calvio slumps slightly. "Oh. Well, I guess this letter isn't going to be delivered after all. Poor man. No one deserves that fate." He shook his head and pulled out the letter, throwing it into the furnaces and watching as it burned. "Well, I guess, well. I'm here and I'd like to help you find Ameiko if you'll have me. I'm no hero, but I can create one." He smiles slightly at this.
            That last proposition gave way to artistic license, which managed to peak through the despair enough to allow for a trembling smile.
            "We n-need all the help we can get," Bergi responded, wiping her eyes with her sleeve for practicality's sake rather than shame, even if they just filled back up again.
            While Amismara and Gronk continued their grisly work, one of the goblins felled by Calvio's magic groaned and sat up. It seemed stunned, as it didn't immediately flee, and it blinked its little red eyes sightlessly.
            Quickfoot, glancing back over his shoulder at the door Hrolfr was headed for, was just in time to see a handful of goblins rushing for the basement.
            Quickfoot cried out in shock, "There's more of them!" He hurried over to stab one of the downed goblins with his rapier, ensuring that it was dead.
            The bard was forced to reevaluate her surroundings with those few words. The world hadn't stopped, after all. Not prepared to face more goblins when the possibility of some of the ones before the party getting back up existed. Amismara and Gronk had already done much of the necessary filthy work of killing the vermin, bless them. The halfling began to notice Aeric and Quickfoot properly, too. Later, she would have to thank them for giving such timely aid.
            Bergi dropped her shortbow, pulled out her dagger, and slit the throat of the goblin lying close to her, just for good measure.
            The Dwarf spares Bergi a sympathetic grimace, hovering by the door. He looks equal parts sympathetic and baffled as he opens his mouth to speak, shakes his head, mumbles something unintelligible and heads into the hall.
            At the sight of the little beast, Amismara's tears dried up, and she stepped quickly over to dispatch the creature. Her confused emotions were resolving themselves into a clear, purposeful anger.
            Gronk took a swing at the stunned goblin that had just woken up as Hrolfr hurried past, dodging the fields of sharp glass shards the goblins had made.
            Already knocked silly by Gronk, Amismara's thrust put an end to the little monster. It lolled off the table it had been lying on, breaking one last piece of glassware on its way down.
            Hrolfr rushed for the outside door they had beaten down with Aeric hot on his heels, while Quickfoot and Bergi joined Amismara and Gronk in their grisly task. Bergi edged through the sharp glass carefully, kneeling to saw at a goblin's throat with her dagger, but it was tougher work than she had expected, and the goblin just wouldn't seem to die!
            Fortunately Amismara saw her predicament, and came to her rescue with her shining glaive. She stabbed hard through a chink in the goblin's armor, giving it a wound it couldn't survive.
            The halfling bowed her head in deference and gratitude as the burden of killing was taken from her. The amusing image she'd conjured up of Amismara in a rage during the boar hunting expedition ended up being grimly close to the truth where the goblin's evil was concerned, and being so close to said violence allowed for this fury of the cleric's to be an asset. It wasn't nearly as funny, though. Well, not in these circumstances, at least.
            Shortly after, their work was done. Goblins lay smashed and stabbed among the remains of the Glassworks workers. Gronk leaned heavily on his earthbreaker, head down. "I will leave you now. The journey ahead is long, and I must be started on it." Gathering Andok up over his shoulder, he gave a nod to the group. "You fight well. May your gods smile upon your future works." Then he carried Andok out of the ruined Glassworks, presumably back to their tribe.
            Bergi watched the tragic spectacle of the Shoanti's departure with a precictable lack of stoicism. Following a compulsion, the bard memorized everything she could about those moments for their artistic merit. All the while, the halfling subconsciously gravitated to Amismara's side.
            Quickfoot stands and wipes the goblin blood off his rapier with the corpse's ragged garment then sheathes his weapon. Looking somewhat nervous before the remaining heroes of Sandpoint, he looks to Bergi, and offers a furtive smile, then begins speaking, although not to anyone in particular.
            "Um, I'm Quickfoot, in case you don't know. I'm here, with the theater, well, sort of, my parents were, for a while at least." He shakes his head, and moves on. "Anyway, I heard you all say there were more goblins, and I want to help. I'm good at being quiet, and hiding, and getting into places where I'm not supposed to be. My mother always said I was too curious by half, but if you'll all have me, I think I can help. We have to check out the rest of the Glassworks, right? And what's all this about Ms. Ameiko? He looks expectantly at the others.
            The halfling returned the elf's earlier glance with an expression of recognition and a level of respect the rogue might not have expected. The respect pertained to his heroic appearance in the nick of time more than his affiliation with Sandpoint Theatre (as Cyrdak Drokkus was a person she found abrasive at the best of times).
            "She's missing, and most likely in here somewhere, on account of her half-brother. There was a note. J-judging by the condition of her father, I… I don't know if she's okay… Tsuto didn't hate her, but…," The bard looked at the carnage around the group once again, rubbing her thumbs into her temples and carefully contemplating her next words. "-I think it's safe to say he has a great deal of hatred in his heart if he was a part of this… Enough to harm even someone he once deemed precious."
            Calvio limps over to where the introductions are occuring. "My name is Calvio Vakarr, wizard, late of Magnimar. I'm only in town settling my late father's affairs, but I was sent here to deliver a letter. Since that's no longer possible, I suppose it wouldn't hurt to aid Ameiko. She was always a pleasant sort. Also, can anyone help me with my feet? I seem to have stepped on some broken glass, and it hurts something fierce."
            Quickfoot shrugs. "Are we in a rush or anything? I mean, are we sure Ms. Ameiko is even here? If we rescue her, do you think she'll give us a reward? Speaking of rewards, just between us, how's the pay for this heroing stuff? I, uh, had to leave some stuff with one of the shop keepers, and I'd like to get it back at some point."
            As he rambles on, Quickfoot loots the goblin corpses with swift motions, searching for any items of value. He also keeps an eye out for any unbroken glassware that might fetch some coin.
            Bergi stared at Quickfoot blankly with reddened eyes before letting out an incredulous laugh at the rogue's nonchalant thievery. How anyone could make looting corpses so casual in such an environment was beyond her. The absurdity of the elf's actions actually made her feel a little better, though.
            "Er, Quickfoot, I think we –are- in a rush. The only reason I've stopped is because I'm waiting for Hrolfr and that dwarf … If we don't stand together, we fall apart."
            She then paused, sighing. " If Ameiko isn't here… I don't know what I'll do… I have no idea if there's a reward or not, Quickfoot, but if you help, I can at least owe you one… I already must thank you heartily for coming when you did! We might have been killed if you and the dwarf hadn't arrived."
            The bard looked in the direction of Calvio's limping. "-that needs to be addressed."

17


            Outside, Hrolfr could see panicked townsfolk dashing to and fro, but no goblins anywhere.
            Aeric trots along dutifully on Hrolfr's heels, listening down the hallways for the pitter-patter of Goblin feet. Satisfied, he falls in behind the tall Ulfen man, making out the front doors and standing by him. A pair of milky brown eyes beam up respectfully at the man from beneath bristly black brows and a thick iron helmet. "I am Aeric... huff... of Clan Grumwald, son of the great Sky-Citadel of Janderhoff." he mutters, in a manner that suggests the name bears some weight. "That was well fought, Son of Kasgard." he says, slinging his weapon over his shoulder. "You stand tall among us, northener." he says, without a hint of irony, drumming a gauntleted hand against his mail and giving the man a short, stiff bow.

18


            Meklok could have done without menial tasks like this, but it was worth it. Brodert was the first person he'd met since fleeing Riddleport who could help him understand his "gifts", and if the price of the help was to collect a few... what was it... "double-thickness vials"... then he'd gladly pay it.
            Coming from the north, it was fairly easy to spot something was off at the Glass works. Trade buildings generally don't have hulking brutes standing outside unless trouble was in the air. He recognised the man's origin, having met a few of them back in Riddleport. What were they called again? Ulnen? Ulfen? Something like that.
            Keeping a wary eye on the man, he carried on down the road towards him. When he passed a small building with a semicircular annex, the wrongness of the situation became more apparent. A double door, set back from the road and smashed nearly to pieces, hung off its hinges. Meklok considered running in to see what was occurring but reflected that this could result in being chased by a large man wielding pointy objects.
            Instead, he walked towards the man.
            "What happened here? I'm supposed to collect some jars."
            Aeric waits patiently for Hrolfr's name as the stranger approaches. The dwarf barely suppresses a snort. The dwarf leans on his weapon, peering up at the newcomer with milky eyes, his thick, wiry black brows furrowing and nostrils on his crooked nose flaring. "Ye'll have a hard time o'that in the mess the goblins left, shorthair." he says, addressing Meklok gruffly. "Unless y'er planning to pick the place clean while dead men lay unburied, but I've always known better of the Shoanti." he says, narrowing his eyes suspiciously and jutting out his chin, until, suddenly he stoops into an awkward bow. "Aeric of Clan Grumwald." He stuffs his thumbs into his belt, squares his feet and gives a shrug accompanied by the sound of heavy mail rising and falling. "If y'want to help root the buggers out, fall in. But I'll warn ye, s'not a pretty sight."
            "Bloody hell", Meklok thought to himself, "Even Riddleport doesn't require a small-scale war to get some glassware..."
            "Aeric. I'm Meklok." He sighed, glancing over towards the glassworks. Couldn't be simple, could it...
            "Well, I need those vials. And I'm already sick of these stories of a full-scale Goblin war happening just around the corner."
            He considered for a second, then unhooked his shortspear from the belt loop it hung from.
            "I'll help you clear the little darlings out of there then. I'm no great warrior with the spear, but I know which end goes where... And I have a few tricks of a more explosive nature..."
            "Well met, Aeric, son of Grumwald." Hrolfr said while sheathing his shortsword and returning the dwarven salute. "Your aid was greatly appreciated. I have no love for goblins, and a single one is as pitiful as pitiful can be, but a pack of them can be tricky. Let us make sure no one of them is running loose in the town". With that, he started to jog around the corner of the house.
            Meklok watched the Ulfen jog off round the building without a word to him in introduction.
            "Friendly sort. Well then. Since we're all best friends now, shall we cement our friendship with some remorseless killing?" He grinned at the back of the onwards-trudging dwarf, and followed him through the door, hefting his shortspear and flexing his fingers.
            Hrolfr checked around the side of the building, but saw no goblins. He headed back inside with the others in tow.
            What met Meklok was a scene of carnage, human torsos and limbs scattered among dead goblins and glass shards everywhere. There was a group of people around a large chunk of glass on the floor with a figure inside it.
            "The little devils smashed the most of the glass inside. Not too many whole jars left" Hrolfr remarked quietly to Meklok on the way back inside. His look of grim determination had faded somewhat, and taken on a slightly weary quality. "Not too many whole workers left either" he added, almost under his breath.
            Meklok grimaced at Hrolf's comment to him, but nodded in understanding. Life on the Storval prepared you for death, and a few goblin victims would be unfortunate but tolerable.
            There were so many dead goblins that Quickfoot had only begun looting when Hrolfr and Aeric returned with their new Shoanti companion. He was able to wrest bloodstained leather armor off a few of the goblins before they showed up, and pile their dogslicers and crude shortbows and quivers besides the horrific "statue;" they had little else of value, though most had horrible things in their pockets. They seemed to have broken most of the glassware they could get their hands on, leaving only a few large, unwieldy pieces and some small stuff on the tables unbroken. There were a few jars and suchlike that he might take, if he could do so carefully.
            As the looting continued, Bergi didn't lift a finger to stop Quickfoot until he started to rummage through the glassware, at which point, she grasped at his arm loosely.
            "Take only what you're gaping for, please? The ant taking a whole apple is marked for the treading," the bard advised, uncomfortable with the thought of the rogue shoving the ill-gotten glassware into his bag, where an arrow might pierce and crush it into a pointy hazard (not to mention that Ameiko might not appreciate such opportunism if she was still alive).
            As the others entered, Bergi engaged eye contact with each of the men in turn and let go of Quickfoot's arm. "Oh, Master Dwarf! I didn't get the chance to thank you earlier," the small young woman blurted out almost immediately after recognizing Aeric from shortly beforehand. The youngest Kauflebaum's affect was greatly different than the last time the dwarf had set eyes on her, having bounced back to the fabled halfling optimism after allowing herself to break down for a little while. "-so I'll do it right now. Thanks for coming to help us."
            When she turned her attention to Meklok, she cocked her head slightly to the left. "Are you here to rescue Ameiko, as well?"
            "I've no idea," Meklok replied wryly to Bergi, "but if she's why the goblins are here, then I suppose so."
            He turned to Aeric. "Tell me, is this usual in Sandpoint? Do small glass transactions often involve fighting things? I thought I left that behind on the Plateau."
            Aeric makes a noise that might be a chuckle. "I'm no local, Shoanti. But Dwarfkind would never allow the goblins to nest below us. Even the orc-tribes hunt them for sport. I doubt the humans would do so willingly."
            Entering the chamber, the dwarf glares at the thieving elf with a crooked scowl. "We've a word for people like you in Dwarvish, elf..." he begins pointing a thick gloved finger broken and bent in two places.
            Quickfoot flashes Aeric and Bergi a winning smile. "Really? I've always been curious, how do you say fantastically handsome in dwarvish?"
            Quickfoot never gets to hear what it is. The blustering dwarf is taken taken aback by the talkative halfling. He clearly isn't used to people being glad to see him. He mumbles incoherantly, staring at his feet and trying to find his words.
            "Think nothing of it. My honour demands it." He says, shifting on his feet. "Is there a basement? The blighters might make their nest down there."
            Bleary-eyed and somewhat drained from her wrath, Amismara came back to the gathered group. "Welcome, Calvio, Aeric and Meklok. You have come at a sad and horrific time for Sandpoint, and us. We can use your help, if you can give it. If not, you best retreat to safety. There has already been much blood spilled and it is not likely the last."
            Slowly remembering the wounds of the others she sighed. "I'm sorry I have left you so long. I can do something for your feet, Calvio. And you too, Hrolf, who have taken wounds yet again for this town."
            As the woman, Amismara, offered to heal wounds, Meklok inclined his head at her in greeting.Finally he turned to the member of the group rooting through goblins' pockets. "You seem a practical man. Let me help."
            Hrolfr's expression lightened as the positive energy flowing from Amismara eased his pain, which he had been ignoring for too long. "I've looked around the building. Whereever the little rats have fled, I'm sure they didn't do it aboveground. Two of us need to check the rest of the ground floor, the rest of us go down to the basement. Hopefully Ameiko is still there, and alive."
            The bard appeared startled at the thought of separating their numbers, but accepted that Hrolfr had experience on his side.
            "I'll go with whomever needs me," she volunteered. "-but we should hurry."
            Amismara shook her head at Hrolfr's suggestion to split up. "Shelyn teaches us to 'Divide not yourself from companionship in times of loss and strife.' We shall heed these words, but move quickly to honor the valor of your scouting, Hrolfr."
            She lifted her glaive into position for movement. "Come friends, let us quickly ensure that no town-person needing our help still lives up here, and then quickly into the basement to find any others."
            Turning back to Hrolfr and looking on him with fondness, she added, "Please lead the way, and may Shelyn protect you."
            Seeing that Hrolfr was going to lead, Bergi added her own little bit of protection to Amismara's spell, singing a few notes in very spcific pitches with a subdued flourish.
            Hrolfr, feeling slightly larger than life by the spells of protection cast upon him grabbed the closest light source he could find and walked towards the darkened hallway he had entered a short while earlier.
            Unaware of all the bizarre social dynamics going on, Meklok focussed on the task at hand. He moved behind Hrolf to follow him into the unknown reaches of the building.
            Quickfoot and Meklok were able to wrest the armor and weapons off the goblin corpses; there were 10 in all. Leaving the things in a pile, the group moved to investigate the Glassworks. The first doors they checked opened into the mouth of Hell. Blue flames burned so hot in the chamber that the onlookers could feel their nostril hairs crisping. Hurriedly closing those furnace doors, the group moved on.
            Their footsteps echoed in the empty halls of the Glassworks, an eerie sound for a place usually so busy. The rumble of the furnaces was the only other sound, pulsing like the heartbeat of some enormous, savage beast. Every room showed some sign of the goblin presence; chairs and tables were overturned and broken, tools lay scattered about where the goblins had dropped them, the food in the pantry had been demolished, and worst of all were the servant's quarters, where the beds were in disarray and soaked with blood. A trail of blood on the floor led back to the glassworking hall, where the bodies had been dragged. All this lit by Amismara's ghostly-glowing glaive and the flickering lantern Hrolfr had grabbed from the glassworking hall for an otherworldly effect.
            Nowhere did they find anyone living.

19


            Bergi had kept to the back of the group, hurrying when necessary to keep up. The sight of the servant's quarters deeply disturbed her. Had this been a story someone else was telling and she suspected it was a lie, she would have made some sort of humorous quip to the fact that the workers were 'dying to get out of their jobs', or something of the like, but when the evidence lay before the halfling, her sense of humor was quite dulled. To the contrary, she was sickened by the fact that someone was capable of visiting such horrors on the innocent.
            "Why would anyone do this...? What did the goblins even stand to gain by this?!" she questioned in a harsh whisper, though not really with the expectation of an answer.
            At least there was some hope for Bergi to hold onto in that the completion of the search of the ground floor, the group was much closer to finding Ameiko, which the halfling had reasserted, in her mind at least, to be alive.
            Without waiting for an answer, Quickfoot shakes his head and sighs over the piled up goblin accoutrements. "Nothing here looks particularly valuable, at least, I don't know anyone who's in the market for used goblin slicers and ratty armor. I guess we'll have to find something a bit better, and hopefully some living people. All these corpses certainly disagree with my finer sensibilities. So, down? Why don't you all stay back a bit, I'll see what I can scout out."
            Quickfoot moves swiftly to the stairs, and then carefully descends, doing his best to remain silent and unseen, his bow out and ready.
            Bergi's already large eyes grew wide as saucers. The rogue's new actions were completely out of keeping with the motto the group had just adopted (more or less), and she didn't know if she could trust the elf's luck. Concern set in like a virus as she watched Quickfoot descend, and quite visibly, too. The bard was emotionally transparent in every sense of the word.
            "Desna, please grant him a little fortune," she breathed, though without any of the measurable effects such an utterance would have had from Amismara. "-as there's been enough blood spilt already."
            Calvio was aghast at the destruction apparent in the Glassworks. He followed along as the band explored, disturbed by the lack of survivors. "Okay, if there's no Ameiko up here, where could she be?"
            "I'd wager downstairs." Bergi said.
            The rumble of the furnaces was muted as the group moved down the stairs to the basement of the Glassworks. The stink of charred flesh in the air was replaced by the smell of dank stone. They filed down to the storage area, where crates and barrels were stacked and two wheelbarrows stood against the walls. Strangely, the wall to their left had been demolished, revealing a passageway leading south.
            Hrolfr raised his lantern to better see the hole in the wall. "So this is how the little rats have been coming into the building. We'll have to keep a lookout, there are more of them about." With that, he raises the lantern and moves towards the goblin tunnel.
            "No. This is not goblin stonework." Aeric says, tracing his hand along the wall. "This is... something else. Old, at least by human standards." the Dwarf says, with a waver of concern in his voice, which he dismisses with a huff. "I'll take point." he says, lumbering to the front line.
            Bergi blinks in surprise as the people in front of her discuss the mysterious excavation. She hadn't heard anything about a secret passage. Despite her better judgement, she quite wanted to know where it led, though her first priority was still finding Ameiko.
            "Knife-ears." Aeric says, turning to the elf. "Do you hear anything?"
            "If you'll all be quiet for a moment, I'll listen ahead. I could go first, quietly, and come back to tell you all what's up ahead if you like. Goblins see better in the dark than I can, it's a mark of the stumpier races, you know, but I might be able to hear them if they're not being careful. Too bad some of them got away. They probably know we're coming..." Quickfoot answered.
            The halfling made a conscious effort to breath quietly, curiously listening as well, although her eyes wandered over to Meklok's forehead sporadically. If it looked like she was going to be caught admiring the tattoo, she promptly looked at something else.
            Hrolfr paused at the dwarf's analysis. He had hunted goblins above ground for many a year, tracking his quarry across the cold northward mountains. He did not feel entirely at home here, enclosed, almost trapped. He let Aeric through to the front of the line, tapping his shoulder lightly with the pommel of his shortsword as the dwarf passes, to acknowledge his request.
            Quickfoot's plea for silence resulted in absolute immobility from Hrolfr. "They know we're coming. It's too dangerous to try and sneak up on them now." he uttered quietly.
            Catching Bergi's eye, Meklok smiled warmly at the halfling. Her eyes seemed to flicker to his forehead. It was sweet, in a way. In Riddleport, the tattoos merely marked him out as an uplands savage to be exploited.
            "I agree with Hrolfr. Loud and fiery is how this will end. It might as well begin that way," he said, flickering tongues of flame playing across his fingertips.
            "So, are you suggesting we just make a grand ban'q full of noise? And hope they come a'sniffing?" the bard asked, still maintaining a low volume. "Or do we tread on like faceless, watching our backs in the hopes of not taking a craven spinner?"
            Amismara found herself agreeing with Meklok, sadly. She made room as everyone jostled in the hallway.
            The dwarf strokes his long matted beard as the others talk tactics, nodding in agreement as he turns to them. "P'raps we should split up. Flank." he says, gruffly. "More than like they'll be waiting in wait around that corner. Or under the rubble." he says, giving a stone a hard kick with his steel capped boots and sending it echoing around the corner, cupping his hand to his ear to listen. "'s only a basement. Tunnels can't be too long." he says, making the slow trudge over the rubble.
            There was no sound in the basement other than his fellows talking and the distant rumble of the furnace as Quickfoot listened for goblins in the storeroom.
            Stepping over the rubble of bricks that had once been a wall, Aeric peered down the south-leading passage, needing no light to see. A few doors stood against the left wall and at the end of the passage, which lay beyond more brick fragments.
            "Quickfoot? Anything?" the bard asked quietly from her position in back, hoping the elf's ears could still pick up the question. As she was operating on Amismara's light, she didn't need to hold anything in particular, and had taken to arming herself with her shortbow.
            Quickfoot shakes his head silently in response to Bergi's question, then holds up his hand to het, signaling for her to stay back. He moves up next to the doorway as quietly as he can, and slowly peeks into the room, doing his best to expose as little of himself as possible to any potential inhabitants.
            Unfortunately, Bergi was in no position to see Quickfoot's response.
            He had to circle around the goods stacked against the wall, but he managed. The doorway proved to be another hallway, down which Quickfoot couldn't see much without any light.
            The young elf quietly padded back to the group on soft boots, wary even with allies around him.
            "It's a hallway, very dark," he said in a low-pitched voice, designed not to carry very far. "I didn't hear any sounds from them, but they're good at hiding too." He grinned at Aeric, "You could probably see better than me, or we could just light the place up, but I'd rather not wander in the dark unless I absolutely have to."
            "Oh, well, just in case, then...," The bard placed her shortbow under her arm and reached back to untie her hair ribbon, which she waved in a small-dance like pattern with her right hand in front of her face before emitting a low whistle, causing the object to glow in a manner nearly identical to Amismara's glaive.
            Once it was magicked, she squeezed between Calvio and Amismara to offer it to the rogue. "It's small enough that you can hide it somewhere, if you have to."
            Quickfoot grinned, and a hungry look came into his eyes, seeing the magic performed. "Someday, you people are going to have to teach me how to do those tricks, and Calvio, that one with the monster! That one too!" The young elf caught himself and quieted down, "But first things first, right?" He said with a wink. The young elf wrapped the ribbon around the grip of his bow, allowing himself to cover it quickly with his hand if need be, then made his way quietly back to the dark corridor.
            As light flooded the basement, Quickfoot peeked around the corner, only to see an empty corridor with two doors along the right-hand wall. After a moment, Aeric came into view at the end of it, squinting in the light.
            The halfling noted that even when the elf's face was around the corner, he didn't cover the light. She took this to mean there was relative safety, and edged over to Quickfoot as softly as possible.
            Calvio kept up with the group, unaccustomed to such long periods of silence. He feels a bit nervous, as if something was close to leaping out at them...
            However, nothing did. Bergi did notice that one of the doors along the right-hand wall was open the barest fraction, though.
            Meklok poked Hrolfr in the back impatiently.
            "Hey big man, given the slaughter upstairs, they already know we're here. No point being silent. Let's move forwards."
            Suddenly considering something, he declared to the group at large "Did any of them escape you upstairs?"
            The bard tapped the rogue and pointed to the door in question, mindful of Meklok's words behind her. The group seemed to be very split on tactics (in action more than words), but this one objective could be honed in on. Bergi moved towards the door with the same care she'd taken in following after Quickfoot, trying to control her every step until she was right next to it, at which time she halted to see if she heard anything on the other side stirred to action by Meklok's talking or a mistake she herself had made. Provided the answer was no, she would gently move the portal further ajar and peek inside.
            Hrolfr raised his lantern a bit higher and continued down the hall, shortsword at the ready. Seeing Aeric at the end of the hall, he slowed down to get eye contact and to make sure the dwarf acknowledged his presence before continuing to the first door along the corridor.
            Nothing leapt out at him, either, but in the wavering light he noticed something that had escaped Aeric - the next door was ever so slightly ajar.
            Quickfoot nodded silently when he saw the ajar door that Bergi pointed out, even as he grimaced at all the noise made by the others. Quickfoot moved to the door with Bergi as quietly as he could, and took care to listen before pointing to Bergi, then pointing at the door, then pointing to his bow.
            They had to squeeze past Aeric, for the corridor wasn't very wide. They heard no sound at the door, so Bergi peeked inside with Quickfoot looming behind her.
            Inside was a storage room with glassware stacked along the walls. A few window panes were broken, but nothing like the destruction in the building above. There was a small smudge in the center of the floor, but no goblins.
            Having seen that the others had observed that the door was ajar, Hrolfr let his shortsword deftly swing downwards while holding with his ring- and littlefinger, using his three remaining fingers to try to open the door he had just been listening at.
            Hrolfr opened the door easily, revealing an empty room with a tunnel cut into the bedrock, winding into darkness. The faint sound of goblin voices could be heard from it.
            Hrolfr's expression became severe as he reacquired his quarry. He raised his sword hand and motioned towards the now open door. "Someone check that last door" he said quietly, shielding his voice from the new-found tunnel before turning his gaze back towards the opening.
            The bard obliged, but not until after she glanced at Aeric and Quickfoot behind her and giving a nod. She moved past the rogue and his loaded bow to listen into the other open door, following the same practice as last time in that if the other side was silent, she would push it open gently and peek in.
            Quickfoot nods and softly pads to a position to cover the third door and the room's interior once it is open.
            They moved as softly as cats to investigate. The door swung open to reveal an office that smelled of booze. There was an empty bottle on the desk, and the top drawer had been left hanging open, the chair overturned on the floor.
            Bergi was unsure as to whether or not a goblin was helping itself to the office's material comforts, but the knowledge that Tsuto might be in the building caused her to doubt it. Satisfied that there were no enemies within the room, she gave the all clear signal to Hrolfr.
            Reading his intense expression, the halfing drew close enough to tug on the man's clothes and point in the direction from which he came, a gesture she hoped he understood in meaning that she was going to get the others. Hrolfr gave a curt nod before turning his attention wholly on the darkened corridor. Following this, she tiptoed past the ranger and into the corner of the hallway, from where she beckoned the rest of the party, assuming they saw her. If not, she would draw closer to Amismara's glaive, something that allowed her to home in on their location, and beckon again.
            Seeing Bergi's beckoning gestures, Amismara began to move towards her comrades, guiding everyone with her light.
            She whispered as quietly as she could. "Where are the goblins? Is there a way for them to get out from the basement?"
            Without taking his eyes off the corridor, Hrolfr spoke in a low voice. "I heard the rest of them in here a moment ago." he said, jutting his chin in the direction of the entrance. "We need to see where this leads us and close it off somehow".
            Quickfoot moved over to the entrance after Hrolfr relayed what he had heard. "Shall I go scout it out?"
            Even as the group formulated their next move, Bergi found her eyes wandering back to Meklok's tattoo as if compelled. Knowing she'd been caught earlier, she didn't bother to hide her fascination this time. To the contrary, she'd gathered the wherewithal to admit something embarrassing in a whisper-she could not for the life of her remember his name, or that of the dwarf. Indeed, she didn't remember there even being much of an introduction. If there were, it went by as something of a blur.
            Hrolfr took a few moments to consider Quickfoot's offer. "Careful. Scout ahead and send us a signal when you're clear. If you hit trouble, run back and we'll cover you where the tunnel is widest." Taking his eyes off the tunnel, he turned to Quickfoot with a widening grin. "So what's the signal?"
            "Careful as I can be," he said with a nod. The elf thought for a moment, then noticed the ribbon that Bergi had given to him. He spent a few moments opening and closing his hand over it, causing the light to flicker and pulse with a steady beat.
            "Look for the pulsing light. That will be the all clear sign. Just have your bows ready. If these things spot me, I'll be running back to you faster than you can say Gorum's Bloody Balls!"
            The elf gave the group a grin and a wink, before padding down the shadowy corridor, in search of more goblins.
            The tunnel wound endlessly through the earth, or at least that was what it felt like to the carefully sneaking rogue, despite the speed at which he moved. The faint sound of goblins echoed from ahead; he was still too far off to make out what they were saying. He had traveled some distance (it was hard to judge how far he had gone, underground) when the tunnel branched to the east. Quickfoot wasn't able to tell which tunnel the goblins had taken.
            Once he reached the branching tunnel, Quickfoot found himself faced with a quandary. "Which way should I go," he thought to himself, "left, right, or back to the others?" He stood in thought for a moment, then, silently as he could, he backtracked to the rest of the group.
            "I went for quite a ways" he told them when he returned, "but the tunnel branched before I found any goblin sign. I thought it best to bring the rest of you that far at least, before I went any further."
            Hrolfr did not linger on hearing the rogue's report, immediately setting out into the wider opening of the tunnel.
            The dwarf snorts. "Sending an elf to scout underground before the Dwarf..." he grumbles. "'nd ye expected results?"
            He shoulders his weapon and falls in step behind Hrolfr, grumbling something incoherant in Dwarvish. Calvio will go, too, sneaking as much as he can. Bergi stole in after the wizard, her bow stashed and dagger out. Meklok strode after Hrolfr, standing behind his shoulder and lifting his right hand in preparation for whatever knee-high terror might come screaming out of the doorways...
            Seeing the others leave, Amismara began to follow. On a whim, she stepped over and opened the door on the south wall that wasn't ajar. "Might as well check this closet for Ameiko, too", she thought to herself. She kept up hope that they'd find more than the barkeeper's corpse.
            The room Amismara opened the door to was considerably larger than a closet - bigger than the one whose door had been ajar, it was stacked with large panes of glass and other glasswork. Unfortunately, there was no sign of Ameiko there.

20


            The group wandered through the long, claustrophobic tunnel by the light of Amismara's and Bergi's spells. Calvio's stealthy stepping was largely made pointless due to the noise the others made as they moved. When they came to the branch of the tunnel, the goblin noise was almost too faint to hear, but Hrolfr determined by the scuffs in the dirt that they had followed the main tunnel. He also noted that there were larger footprints among those of the goblins...
            Hrolfr had fallen into the determined cadence of a hunter while tracking his quarry through the tunnel, feet rolling slowly from heel to toe as he tried to let out as little noise as possible. Kneeling down to the scuffs in the dirt, he looked at the marks made by the goblins on their passage before turning towards his companions. "They came through here, and they brought at least one human."
            Not long after, they came to another branch, this one to the west (or so Aeric determined). Here, a brick wall hiding the offshoot tunnel had been demolished, much as the walls in the Glassworks basement.
            Once they reached the demolished brick wall, Quickfoot patted Aeric on the shoulder. "Stay behind me, little one," he whispered, "but not too far back. I don't like the looks of those big footprints."
            Aeric, squinting into the gloom, will grumble at the elf's quip as he struggles to keep pace, falling in with Hrolfr and the others and thanking the gods for his darkvision.
            Without another word, the elf padded forward into the gloom, allowing only a thin beam of light to escape Bergi's ribbon through his clenched fingers.
            "So that's how they got in, then." Bergi murmured, fidgeting with apprehension that had risen up again with the discovery of large footprints in the goblin's trail. The last thing she wanted was for them to get away. "-if they took Ameiko with them, if they hurt her, I'll-," the bard was thinking out loud, though none too coherently. Realizing she was doing this, she shut herself up abruptly.
            Hrolfr looked inside the hole in the brick wall, lamp held high for illumination.
            "I'm getting just a little tired of waiting for goblins to come shrieking round the corner", Meklok said, squeezing past the rest of the group to peer into the hole with Hrolfr.
            "I know we're trying to be careful and everything, but have we considered that if we fall too far behind they might meet up with a larger group?"
            In the lamplight the once bricked-over passage also seemed to show some use - but among the scuffs in the dirt there, Hrolfr could only find one goblin's tracks, headed deeper.
            It would seem the larger company of goblins had continued down the main tunnel.
            Bergi had a terrible sense of foreboding as Quickfoot started down the winding tunnel that had once been bricked over. It wouldn't take long for the elf to get out of sight - for one moving so silently, he sure was fast!
            If nature prompted her to move, Bergi moved. Keeping her dagger out, the halfling followed before she lost sight of the rogue.
            Amismara was surprised to see Bergi and Quickfoot disappear into the western side-tunnel, the one previously bricked up. Coming close to Hrolfr and Meklok, she whispered, "Are we sure the goblins went this way?"
            She squinted into the dark, and wasn't even sure she could make out Quickfoot and Bergi. Their light must be shielded and that, combined with her own glowing glaive, made it difficult to spot the pair.
            "They're so quick and so quiet!" she whispered in amazement. "We shouldn't let them get too far ahead."
            Meklok nodded in response to Amisara. "I agree. We don't know how many of those creatures are down here, splitting into two groups is... foolish. Shall we?"
            Hrolfr, having seen enough of the tracks in the side tunnel turns back to the others. "The little devils may seem pitiful enough when you're facing them, but you do not want them creeping up behind you. I've seen two goblins tear down three men my size in moments, all because they waded on ahead into a goblin warren without checking the side passages and were caught off guard. We got them, but it was little comfort to Black Ulfrek, Thorvald and Beorn." He turned back towards the side tunnel, pointing to the newfound tracks with his shortsword. "One of them went through here, the others passed down the main tunnel. Let's hope whoever meets that one can handle a weapon." He stood up.
            "You are right. We should take the main tunnel and go after the main group, the humans are with them. Just watch your back.". Hrolfr turned towards the main tunnel and started walking.
            "So... we're splitting up? I'm uncomfortable with this...", Meklok said, as he strode after Hrolfr.
            "No, we'll have to get them first. There's only one goblin that went that way, but there may be more further along. Let's get them quickly". He patted Aerics shoulder to get his attention, then turned around and trotted quickly into the hole in the main tunnel.
            By this time, the sounds of goblins had all but faded away. It would take some fast moving to catch up with them.
            Even without her pack, and especially while sneaking, Bergi couldn't hope to keep up with the elf, whose name had apparently been well-chosen. Therefore it was she whom Hrolfr found first. The appearance of the light from his lantern was more than welcome, as Quickfoot's light steadily faded ahead.
            Bergi would have waited for the party consensus, but the instinctive warning made her afraid that Quickfoot's getting out of sight was likely a death sentence for the elf. She might have called out to him as soon as he got too far ahead, but didn't want to give away his position. She couldn't cast another light spell, either, as that would leave the elf in the dark. Just before Hrolfr's lantern had appeared, the halfling had been moving to use the walls as guidance. With the light manifested, though, the bard returned with all the glory of a defeated soldier.
            "He's too fast," she admitted in a whisper. "-and I have a terrible feeling. I couldn't just let him go alone."
            With the main party present, stealth would put her even further behind, and the sounds they made collectively covered her relatively light footsteps, anyway. She didn't want to slow down anymore. Instead, she made her way to the back of the group to continue onwards.
            When Quickfoot realized that he was alone, he turned around and made his way back to where the others had stopped. "Have you found more goblins?" he asked Hrolfr. "I'm not sure how much further this tunnel goes, but I haven't heard them in a while, or seen any sign of them. Maybe we should go back to the main passageway..."
            "One went through here, the others went through the main tunnel." Hrolfr said calmly. "We should head back that way if we are to find Ameiko."
            Bergi's relief at Quickfoot's safe return was short-lived with the realization that they'd been going the wrong way to catch up to Ameiko's likely captors. She had to fight the idiotic urge to sprint blindly into the main tunnel after the main goblin horde, an inner struggle that manifested in a few errant twitches.
            "Then, come on, come on...," Bergi pleaded.
            While she didn't bolt, the halfling proved unable to hold still, walking in the direction of the main tunnel as far as Amismara's light allowed.
            With the slower members of the party keeping the pace to a walk, the group wandered through the claustrophobic winding tunnel until they came to a large, dented tin bucket sitting bottom-up beside one wall. The sound of the goblins had long since faded to nothing.
            Meklok prodded at the bucket with his short spear, then tipped it over to inspect what might be underneath.
            "Right, let's decide what the hell we're doing. We came down to hunt goblins. They're gone. So we either press on this way, potentially into a whole tribe of them... OR we go back to the fork in the tunnel and follow the one set of footprints going that way. Find him, interrogate him, get the whole militia to take out the tribe."
            Hrolfr looked intently at the Shoanti. "That is not why I'm down here. Me, I'm down here to make sure they don't kill any more locals, most importantly Ameiko, whose hospitality I've enjoyed over these past days and any workers that may have been lucky enough to not be killed yet. I'm not saying you have a bad plan, it's a sound plan. A prudent plan. But I have a feeling that the people the goblins dragged down here won't live to see the end of it." Hrolfrs expression lightened a bit, the hardness draining from his eyes. "If you wan't to pursue the straggler and fetch the militia, I won't stop you. It may prove to be the smart thing to do. But I'm continuing along this path, come what may." He turned around, kneeling for a short moment examining the floor and the bucket for tracks before continuing along the main corridor.
            When Meklok tipped over the bucket, the goblin that had been hiding under it shrieked and took off running - directly into the wall, as the bucket appeared to be stuck on her too-wide head. Quickfoot recognized it as the one that had gotten away, but was too badly injured to keep up with her comrades. The goblin jumped up and klonked into Meklok's legs, cautiously putting a hand out to test what it was she had run into. Then she yelped with fright and staggered away down the tunnel, nowhere near as fast as the little buggers usually were, and wheezing loudly (or maybe it just sounded louder when amplified by her bucket).
            "Don't kill it!", Meklok said urgently to the others.
            He let it retreat further away, then said quietly "We follow this one back. He hid under a bucket, so he's not overly bright. He'll lead us where we want to go."
            Amismara doubted this was true. A small, sad smile crossed her face as she recalled Todd interrogating some captured goblins with a whisk and a corkscrew. Those goblins had all been from different tribes, the Birdcrunchers, the Thistletops and the Licktoads, apparently each with a different lair. And the last attempt to follow goblins to their lair and then storm it had ended in death and left them no closer to finding the "longshanks" leader. While this "longshanks" might be Ameiko's brother (Tsuto, was it?) there didn't seem to be much better than a one-in-three chance that this goblin would lead them where they wanted to go. She whispered her concerns to the others.
            "It's our best chance if we believe Ameiko has been taken back to wherever the goblins lair. Are we sure she's not hidden down here in one of these accursed tunnels?" Calvio asked.
            Even as the others were discussing things, Bergi wasn't going to let this potential lead get away. She knew it was unwise, but it was unlikely the other foes had stayed, and they had to have gotten out somewhere. Perhaps she'd run out of light, too, but this wouldn't be a disadvantage if her quarry was also running blinded. This was for Ameiko, anyway. Anything was a reasonable price to pay.
            "-Forgive me for this. Call it instinct. You can yell at me later." she said simply before bolting after the goblin.
            Prepared to argue the point with his new-found comrades, Meklok noticed the small one bolting off, yelling some nonsense. He cursed, and sprinted after her and the goblin.
            Quickfoot grinned at Calvio, Amismara, Hrolfr and Aeric before he slipped into the shadows along the wall and followed after the headstrong duo and the bucket-headed goblin, his bow in hand with an arrow on the string.
            Wordlessly, Hrolfr sprints after Meklok, Bergi and Quickfoot, shortsword and lamp in hand.
            Bergi and the others didn't have far to run. The little goblin was moving quite slowly (for a goblin), no doubt due to her seeping arrow wounds.
            Following her for a while brought them all to a dead end in the tunnel. The goblin bonked into the wall, then began frantically trying to yank the bucket off her head.
            Bergi noticed a hair clasp lying in the dirt. She would recognize it - after all, she was the one who had given it to Ameiko.
            The bard leaned down to pick up the hair clasp, making certain she hadn't imagined it lying there. Honestly, she was surprised Ameiko still wore it; Bergi had presented it to the wayward noble upon her return to Sandpoint after her foray into adventuring. The young courier figured she'd needed cheering up (though the halfling's budget had ensured its meager quality, and all of the decorations were painted on).
            "Ameiko's," she mouthed to Hrolfr and the others, careful to make sure no sound came out of her lips to aggrivate the goblin trying to escape its pail prison. Her eyes flitted from the position the accessory had been laying to the dead end suspiciously. It wouldn't make sense for this object to be here if the goblins didn't go through somehow.
            Meklok caught up with the little bard quickly, pulling to a halt at the unexpected rock wall. He immediately had the same suspicions as Bergi, and began prodding any suspicious looking cracks in the rock.
            Quickfoot realized at once what Meklok was about and brought his keen elven senses to bear, he searched the wall and the surrounding corridors, careful not to disturb the small goblin.
            "We have our heading then." the dwarf said, grinning his yellow-toothed grin, and falling in step. "Gods, a goblin hunt! Makes me feel like I was fifty again!" he says, catching the eyes of the others. "Are they common in these parts? Did y'er father ever take you on a goblin hunt when ye were small? Why, I can remember my very first..." he begins, in a tone that suggests this is a long tale.
            The halfling gave the dwarf an incredulous grin despite her concern for Ameiko. She'd listened to ramblings like this for hours at the Rusty Dragon over the past few years and seldom regretted it, but now just seemed like a bad time to start reminiscing.
            "-your first what, Master Dwarf?" Bergi asked quietly, knowing any stealth that had been used to keep the bucket goblin in the dark as to their presence was useless now. She quickly placed Ameiko's hairclasp onto her own head for safe keeping and secured her dagger back into her main hand. "I want to hear the tale when I can give it the focus it deserves."
            Hrolfr wasted no time when he caught up with the goblin, dropped his sword and grabbed the bucket-headed goblin, wrenching it to the ground, yelling "Rope!"
            Ah. Rope. That was what the bard had forgotten to buy for her adventuring. She knew she had skimped on something important, but even if she had bought it, the stuff was heavy and she'd left almost everything behind.
            The goblin squalled and kicked, mixing pleas for mercy with unlikely threats in Goblin.
            "Aye. No rope." Aeric says, cursing himself under his breath as he moves to pin the creature down. "I've no doubt we can make him squeal before we lose our trail, though." he says, gruffly, moving to help pin the creature.
            Quickfoot shook his head at the lack of subtlety displayed by Aeric and Hrolfr. "Is it really so difficult to be quiet?" he asked in a good natured tone. There was no smile on his lips or in his eyes though as he drew his dagger and placed it under the goblin's throat. "Be silent or die, filth licker," he hissed in the goblin's own tongue. "Answer my questions, and perhaps we will not let the horses mate with you." He continued in that vile language. "Where are the rest of the goblins? How many are there? Is there a secret passage or door? Do the long legs still live? How many are there? Who is your master!?"
            Amismara tried to stay out of the way as the tunnel end was searched and the goblin was interrogated. She kept an eye back the way they'd come, alert for danger.
            The goblin was easily pinned by holding the bucket down, and with Aeric holding her legs she was fairly immobilized - but not helpless. When Quickfoot stuck his arm up into the bucket to threaten the goblin, she sliced at him with her dogslicer, jabbering in a panic about "bad longshankses!" She managed to give him a small cut before he jerked his arm back out of the way.
            Meklok, undistracted by the interrogation of the goblin, noticed a seam in the rocky wall during his meticulous search. He was almost sure that the rock could be pushed in, revealing... who knew what?
            After hissing in pain at the slash, Quickfoot retaliated and attempted to bury his dagger in the goblin's neck. The goblin was unable to defend herself from the precision of Quickfoot's attack, and went limp as her life drained away, blood flowing out of the bucket she had gotten stuck in.
            "Well, there goes that...," Bergi said with a grimace. "Unless there's still some life in her left to be salvaged. Doesn't look that way, though."
            The halfling looked back to Meklok, who with Quickfoot had earlier been searching for a way in or out. "Any luck?"
            Hrolfr dropped the little creature to the floor, turning around to see how his friends' seach was going
            "Y'killed it ye daft fool!" The dwarf spits, turning on Quickfoot. "Have ye an ounce of sense in that pretty elven head of yours?" the dwarf asks, throwing up his arms and waving him away dismissively as he strides purposefully to the seam in the wall, gliding his hands along it and pressing his weight against it.
            With Meklok pointing out the seam, Aeric judged the best place to try it easily. The rock shifted, just as Meklok had thought it might. Without much trouble, Aeric pushed it aside, revealing a cave open to the sky about 30 feet away. The sound of waves and gulls calling met them.
            The cave was strewn with nests of rags and the remnants of a number of gulls and other small, unfortunate animals. Hrolfr recognized it as a goblin campground.
            With a raised eyebrow at Quickfoot, Meklok made quite clear his feelings at his impetuous actions. He didn't waste time on it though, heading straight out into the cave, shortspear at the ready.
            Standing in the cave, he spoke over his shoulder to the others, "Well this was obviously planned way in advance. If the "longshanks" was helping coordinate, there may be something left behind." That said, he started rummaging through the debris.
            Quickfoot responded to Meklok's raised eyebrow with an obscene gesture and a flippant wink. After wiping his dagger off on the deceased goblin's rags, he sheathed it and made his way to the cave mouth. Bow in hand, and an arrow nocked on the string, he crouched low and peered outside the cave, eyes sharp for movement, from man, goblin, or anything else.

21


            While Meklok rummaged through the rather disgusting goblin detritus, Quickfoot peered out the cave entrance. The cave opened to a breathtaking view of the Varisian Bay. It was positioned on the side of a cliff; the mouth sloped down to a narrow beach. Quite some distance farther up the beach, a man was carrying a weakly struggling woman with a handful of goblins scampering around, traveling on the packed sand near the water. The strong sea breeze brought the sound of goblin jabbering to the elf.
            Hrolfr crouched down in the middle of the cave, poking at the goblin refuse with his shortsword. "That, or they made camp here and found an old secret passage by chance." He rummaged through the remains, looking for the signs that would tell him how many they had been and how long they had been there.
            Quickfoot called over his shoulder in a hushed voice to the others, "I see a half dozen goblins and a man carrying a bound woman about a half mile down the beach. I think we've found Ameiko." As he spoke, the elf looked for trails above the beach or other paths by which he could follow the captors unseen.
            "Ha!" Aeric booms, harshly. "We have our mark!" he adds, under his breath, tightening his belt and letting loose his flail, the heavy weight landing in the dust witha muffled thud. "Those eyes of yours aren't bad..." he says to the elf, sheepishly. "Fer a lily-livered, pointy-eared flower-sniffer at any rate."
            Hearing Quickfoot's call, Meklok abandoned his rummaging and moved next to him. His fingers started to work in the gestures needed to cast one of his spells as he caught Quickfoot's eye and raised an eyebrow again - this time a question... "What now?"
            On hearing the elf and dwarf, Hrolfr padded to the outside of the cavern in as fast a tempo as he could managed, shoulders hunched to try to minimize his large frame. "Well spotted." he said, putting his large hand on Quickfoot's shoulder, "We move faster than they do, and we need to find a way to cut them off unseen. We must be careful." Turning back towards the cavern, he sheathed his shortsword and then, after a short deliberation, removed the sword and scabbard from his belt. He approached Ameiko and Bergi inside the cavern. "Quickfoot has spotted our quarry on the beach. We need to be quick if we are to free her." He then crouched down to around eye-height with Bergi. "If you are going to keep charging into the fray, you should wield a warriors weapon." He offered the shortsword, hilt first. A well-used weapon, but well-kept, the now faded northern entwining dragon patterns could just be made out on the brass pommel.
            The halfling's eyes widened considerably in response to Hrolfr's first announcement. The thought of Ameiko being taken further away by those who obviously meant her harm possessed possessed the bard, and the pre-rash decision jitters began to take over. However, the ranger's offered gift diffused the tension while reassuring her that the impulses were normal. He wasn't telling her to disobey her base nature or to be careful in a situation that had the potential to deny that luxury, and the bard appreciated that.
            "Thank you," Bergi said, taking the offered blade with gratitude. This was the second time in the past day that Hrolfr had placed himself on her level. If she could repay his kindness, the halfling would. Strapping it onto her belt was a asimple affair, and the blade wasn't too heavy(though it was a hefty one compared to what she was used to).
            While Hrolfr armed Bergi, Quickfoot surveyed the cliff face.
            Having performed this little ceremony, Hrolfr then drew his greataxe and turned towards the cavern entrance.
            "Okay, Amismara." Bergi said as the Ulfen man rejoined the others in the tunnel. "Let's go." The halfling ran ouside as fast as her feet could take her, waiting only long enough for the best route of attack to be selected before making chase.
            When the party charged out onto the beach, it didn't take long before the goblins and their "longshanks" companion spotted them. They hurried along the beach, probably headed for some path up the cliff.
            When it was blatantly obvious that they had already been spotted, Bergi let out a loud bellow. "AMEIKO! We're coming for you, so just hold on!"
            Unfortunately for Quickfoot, the cliffside was not an easy climb. He turned and ran with the others.
            While Bergi and Aeric fell behind, the party quickly closed on the goblin group. It helped that the man carrying Ameiko appeared to be hindered by her struggling, slowing him. Unfortunately, they had enough of a head start that they reached the path they had been looking for, cutting across the sand to begin climbing a switchback path up the side of the cliff. They were halfway up before the party approached the base of the path. Above, goblin archers readied their bows for when the party came into range.
            Meklok ran forwards, trying to get within his spell range, the words controlling a ray of frost on his lips.
            While pursuing the group of goblins, Hrolfr managed to better assess their situation. He slowed down for a few steps, stowed his greataxe on his back and took out his bow. He then picked up the pace while grabbing an arrow from his quiver.
            Bergi continued to run forward, but only after switching to her ranged weapon as well.
            As the party approached, the goblins loosed their arrows, then scurried higher up the cliff face. This close, Bergi could see that it was definitely Tsuto carrying Ameiko.
            "TSUTO! LET YOUR SISTER GO, YOU INSANE, HOMICIDAL TIT! WHAT IN THE NINE HELLS IS WRONG WITH YOU?!" the bard screamed, relying on the same voice projection she used during performances to relay the message.
            Meklok was the first to reach the cliff base, and started up the narrow path as quickly as he could. Quickfoot skidded to a stop at the base of the path, but there wasn't anything he could hide behind. He took aim at the goblin who had shot at him and fired an arrow after it, but his shot went wide.
            Calvio followed along as the band chased after the goblins before suddenly stopping. 'What am I doing? I'm no warrior!' He stood for a moment, staring after the others and strode forward briskly, taking a moment to look properly wizardly. He holds aloft his staff and begins chanting seemingly arcane syllables, relying on his natural showmanship to intimidate his opponents.
            Some of the goblins pointed at him as they moved, but it was impossible to tell what they thought of Calvio's bluff.
            Far back from the cliff, with the ocean lapping at his heels, Hrolfr loosed an arrow at one of the goblins, but the ocean breeze gusted and his arrow clattered against the cliff face. Above, Tsuto hurried with Ameiko, whose feeble struggles weren't enough to stop him.
            Bergi kept running alongside Aeric, her bow out and ready as she ran. Soon she would catch up to the others, and stop Tsuto from escaping with Ameiko.
            For their part, the goblins continued to scamper up the narrow trail, stopping now and then to shoot at their pursuers. This time their volley made an impact, every arrow finding flesh to strike.
            Amismara felt panic and sorrow as the arrows found their marks and her companions began to bleed. "Fair Shelyn, heal us!", she called to the sky. Again, the rainbow hues swirled around the wounded, closing up their wounds.
            "That feels amazing!" Quickfoot gasped as Amismara's healing energy flowed over him. "I should get to church more often!"
            The goblin archers needed to be stopped, but he did not know how that could be accomplished. "Meklok, Calvio, can either of you do anything to hinder those archers? Maybe blind them or something?" The impetuous elf did not wait for a reply, but raced up the mountain, pausing only to fire another arrow.
            The bard continued on, eyeing the half-elven sibling of the barkeep with confusion and disgust.
            Hrolfr, seeing his arrow clatter off the cliff and noticing his two newest companions speeing up the cliff made a split-second decision and dropped his bow. He then drew on every ounce of his rock-climbing experience and made it his sole purpose to reach the top of the cliff as soon as he could. On his run-up, he pulled his greataxe up from it's nesting place on his back, just to make sure it would be within easy reach once he got in range of the goblins. A deep growl turned into a guttural war-cry from his goblin-hunting days in the north as he sped up the cliffside.
            Cursing his impetuousness, Meklok scanned the trail for scree or boulders that could shelter him while he waited for backup... In the distance, the goblins receded ever further. If they reached the top while they were still this far down, there'd be problems...
            Amismara felt panic and sorrow as the arrows found their marks and her companions began to bleed. "Fair Shelyn, heal us!", she called to the sky. Again, the rainbow hues swirled around the wounded, closing up their wounds.
            Hrolfr dashed across the sand, coming to the base of the trail with his eyes fixed on the goblins. Below, Bergi took careful aim and loosed an arrow at Tsuto. It struck true, and the man bellowed a series of curses that would have impressed a sailor - but he didn't drop Ameiko.
            Fortunately (or unfortunately?), the goblins seemed to think they had plenty of time to withdraw. They kept stopping to shoot at their pursuers. They managed to hit Quickfoot and Hrolfr, but couldn't strike the wary Meklok. Then Quickfoot punched one of them hard with an arrow, and it staggered, nearly losing its footing and toppling off the cliffside. The rest of the party hurried forward up the path.
            Hrolfr raced up the path with incredible speed, reaching Meklok and then vaulting himself up the cliffside to the next switchback of the trail, racing on up the path towards the goblins, who began to look rather alarmed.
            As the others began to pass her by, Amismara kept up her pose in the rain of arrows, maintaining the healing, rainbow hues.
            Aeric let out a bellow and dashed headlong at his target, boots trudging deep holes in the sand.
            Quickfoot gasped in pain as another goblin arrow stung him, but the combination of his own fine bowmanship and Amismara's continued healing served as a welcome balm in the face of his injury. He fired off a careful shot before making his way further up the track, hoping to finish off the goblin that he had nearly done for earlier.
            "I swear," he thought to himself. "If I make it out of this alive, I will not steal from that priestess, at least, not much."
            "Let her go! TSUTO! JUST PUT HER DOWN! BY THE SPHERES, WHY ALL THIS?!" The halfling advanced further up the switchback path hastily, frustrated by her failure to get the half-elf to release his sister. She also grew concerned with the new attention the goblins were paying to Hrolfr as long as he remained close to and alone on the front lines. She hadn't much cared for their usage of her companions as pincushions to begin with, but the potential they had to overwhelm a single target was a greater bother.
            Tsuto ignored all appeals to him, nearing the top of the trail with Ameiko.
            Amismara's swirling rainbow touched each of the wounded party members, closing wounds and refreshing their spirits. Hrolfr found it especially beneficial, as shortly after he was peppered with arrows by the jeering goblins. They began singing a horrid song in their own language about spitting "longshanks" for putting over a fire. Meklok raced to join the ranger, but was still far behind thanks to Hrolfr's heroic speed-climb up the cliffside.
            Quickfoot fired at the goblin he had wounded, but this time it was more wary, and ducked aside as his arrow whipped past its head. Calvio and Aeric vied to get up the path quickly, slipping a little in the loose gravel.
            "WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR??", Meklok screamed down to the switchback path below his. He piled on a burst of speed, determined to reach Hrolfr before the brave (but foolhardy) man was turned into a goblin target practice dummy.
            Amismara lowered her arms and shot a sideways glance up to the screaming Meklok. "I guess everyone looks further behind when you're in front", she conceded. Her stout dancer's legs began moving her up the trail as fast as she could go.
            Meklok cursed his slightly impetuous tongue. Amisara had, after all, stopped him from bleeding to death. Still, he was running too fast to stop and chat now.
            Bergi's awareness of uneven ground did far less to slow her ascent than her sheer lack of a long stride. Banking on her experience of the shifting footwork used in dancing, she tried to speed up and around the bend of the path.
            Hrolfr did not slow down on his way up the cliffside, quite on the contrary in fact. His field of vision narrowed as the old, familiar Northern bloodlust coursed through his veins, causing him to disregard any threat posed from the five goblins. They'd get what was due to them, soon enough.
            Far above, Tsuto disappeared over the edge of the cliff, leaving his goblins to deal with the party.
            Bergi flitted over the loose gravel and narrow, uneven climb like a dancer, running full tilt up the trail. Whenever it seemed she might trip, or that the stone she was standing on might give way, she simply leapt on with what looked like effortless grace. Being small as she was, she passed Meklok without trouble on the narrow trail.
            At the rear of the party, Amismara followed Aeric, who in turn followed Calvio. Far to the front, the goblins all missed when shooting at Hrolfr (though at least one arrow came awfully close), scrambling to get higher. Quickfoot sent an arrow after the one he had wounded, hitting it smack in the chest. It wailed, tugging to get the arrow out as its companions ignored it.
            As Hrolfr and the others hurried up the trail, Tsuto reappeared at the top of the cliff, an arrow nocked to his bow and ready. Seeing Hrolfr draw near, he lifted his bow and took aim. The arrow punched through Hrolfr's armor, the force of it nearly making him take a fatal misstep on the trail.
            Again the goblins sent a hail of arrows at him, and many struck, leaving him weakening from the pain and flowing blood. Quickfoot retaliated by shooting his goblin again, and it looked to be in worse shape than Hrolfr, staggering slowly up the trail, all thought of shooting at the party out of its mind. Then Hrolfr caught up to the last goblin, making it squeak with alarm - but Tsuto was ready for him. His arrow was the last straw for Hrolfr, who felt the world dimming as consciousness slipped away. The ranger dropped to his knees, then collapsed on the trail, fortunately not slipping over the side - though the goblin beside him began to sing triumphantly, with very bad rhymes, about kicking Hrolfr loose.
            Bergi's hair stood on end as she drew nearer. "Hrolfr!" the young woman called out, her nerves calming only the slightest amount when he didn't begin a tumble down the cliffside. He wasn't responding, so the damned goblin would be able to do what it threatened, and there was no guarantee the bard could get to him in time to cast featherfall if he dropped. "You no touch him! No TOUCH him!" she screamed in goblin.
            Amismara was too far away to reach Hrolfr with Shelyn's blessing, but Bergi came charging up the trail with her ribbons streaming behind her, Hrolfr's shortsword thrust before her.
            Coward that the goblin was, it skipped back along the trail with its fellows, but turned to take a parting shot at Bergi. The little bard ducked the arrows sent her way easily, but Meklok was not as fast, taking two hits. Quickfoot continued to return fire, this time striking a different goblin, who shouted curses down on the "ugly horse-loving longshanks!" Tsuto considered Bergi for a moment, then sneered and turned his bow on Meklok, catching him with another hard-hitting arrow.
            Meklok hardly looked better than Hrolfr, and the amount of blood spilling from her allies hardly allowed the halfling to congratulate her luck in not having been nailed with arrows yet. She regarded Hrolfr with unbridled concern. The bard didn't have a healer's ability to gauge how close someone was to death, but she'd venture to guess that if the goblins wanted to finish off the Ulfen man, it would be far too easy.
            As much as Bergi wanted to stop Tsuto by any means possible (and, had Hrolfr not been brought down, she would have cast grease on the half-elf's accursed bow), her newfound friend's well-being took precedence. Without too much thought, the halfling moved herself to the ranger's other side, between him and the goblins. Leaning over him as much as possible to provide what little cover her small torso would allow, she repeated the ritual she'd used to heal the ranger the night before. As Bergi sang softly over the wounded man, he gasped and his eyes flew open. The halfling could see Hrolfr's wounds fade, mended by her magic.
            "Hrolfr?" she asked at the spell's conclusion, trying to elicit a response. "Can you hear me...? You need to get to cover until Amismara gets up here."
            Hrolfr took a few moments to get his bearings again, then sat up against the cliffface. "That's another one I owe you" he said in half-hushed tones before donning his erstwhile gaze of determination.
            She craned her head towards the goblins, worried that they were going to go after one of the debilitatingly injured of her comrades. Outwardly, she tried to remain fearless in their eyes as she taunted them in their own language, however.
            "Lousy shots! Pick on your own sizes! Stupids! Muttslobbers!"
            Amismara hurried up the trail, finally drawing into range to heal the wounded.
            The two closest goblins yelled back insults angrily, and arrows whipped through the air as the goblins targeted her, Meklok and Hrolfr - but not one managed to hit them. The goblins jumped up and down and shouted, enraged, even as they moved higher up the trail.
            Meklok muttered arcane words and gestured, and a roiling blast of flame caught the nearest goblin, who threw itself to the ground to avoid the worst of the flames - but from its high-pitched whimpers, it had still been burned a little. Meklok trotted up the path, taking him closer to the top of the switchback trail, but away from the goblins.
            Quickfoot, too, moved up the path, keeping the goblin he had targeted under close watch. He sent another arrow up to punch it in the gut, and it wailed unhappily.
            Hrolfr gathered himself, picking up his axe and rising from where he had fallen. Seeing this, Tsuto was quick to launch an arrow at him, but the now-awake Ulfen man managed to duck aside.
            Below, Amismara raised her holy symbol to Shelyn, pleading for her companions to be granted the strength to prevail. The wounded felt Shelyn's answer, the pain of their injuries fading.
            With Amismara's channel giving the front lines a second wind, the bard's attention was retrained onto Tsuto.
            'Let's see if I can't make you slip up,' she murmured, reviewing what she knew about the spell she was now free to cast.
            Bergi pulled a small, loosely-wrapped piece of butter out of her spell-component pouch, tossed it in front of her face and belted out several high notes in the half-elf's direction, her gaze fixed on his bow. The dairy good vaporized in the process, but with any luck, the bow Tsuto was utilizing would be impossible to grip, let alone shoot, as it would be coated with grease.
            The halfling then moved further up the path, staying closer to the cliffside than the edge of the trail. Curiosity certainly didn't urge her to discover what a tumble down would do now that she didn't have access to a featherfall spell.
            With a squip, the bow Tsuto was holding squirted out of his hand, falling down to the beach below.
            The look on his face was priceless.
            Tsuto's expression did not improve when the goblin Meklok had burned tried to take aim at the sorceror - only to discover that his bowstring had been devoured by the burst of flame. He gaped stupidly a moment, then shrugged and scurried up the trail.
            The other goblins shot at Meklok and Hrolfr, only the former hitting. Meklok moved steadily up the trail after them, unleashing another blast of flame that singed two more goblins. Quickfoot tried to pin one of the goblins with an arrow, but his shot went wide.
            Hrolfr did not take long to take advantage of the confusion. He grabbed his bow from his back and ran up the path again, firing at any goblin that dared rear its' ugly head.
            The halfling burst into laughter at the expression the half-elf had made. In a way, it was as if Bergi was back in 4696, visiting the Turandarok Academy with Ameiko to see her brother during a particularly cold Toilday that Calistril, in which the barkeep-to-be handed the boy a clay vessel of hot tea that was destined to be spilled all over his clothes when the bard's younger self tried to show off a new dance spin and failed spectacularly. That had been an accident caused by a mixture of a patch of ice and poor coordination rather than the intent to disrupt, but the effect it had on Tsuto's facial musculature was semi-identical. There would be no frantic apologies on Bergi's part this time, though, and the setting was admittedly grimmer.
            Bergi's laughter only increased the fury on Tsuto's face. This close, the rest of the party could see that he did indeed share Ameiko's exotic appearance. Totally unarmed, he nevertheless waited at the top of the cliff. "I'll wipe that grin off your face, Bergi," he snarled. "You'll burn like the rest of them!"
            Judging the goblins too close to risk accidentally healing them, Amismara continued up the switchback trail. Ahead of her, Bergi raised her voice in a sweet song of courage and determination, lifting everyone's spirits. One goblin sent an arrow after her, but the rest were busy scrambling up the rocky path, away from the party.
            Unable to move past Hrolfr on the narrow trail, Meklok wove arcane energies together, loosing them once again in a burst of fire at the closest goblin. He dodged the worst of it, but was still singed, squalling and knocking himself on the head with the pommel of his dogslicer in an effort to put out the flames. Dancing around like that it was a miracle he didn't fall off the trail. The goblin behind him wasn't so lucky - she toppled off the cliff with Quickfoot's arrow through her throat. Unfortunately, Amismara wasn't able to get out of the way in time, and the little goblin slammed into her on the way down. The cleric lost her footing, arms waving as she slowly tipped toward the empty space beside her, but Quickfoot grabbed her arm and got her back on the trail at the last moment. She suffered a smarting knock from the collision, but at least she hadn't fallen.
            Calvio bunched up on the path with the others, worried that a single solid attack might destroy them all. He cast his mind to his arcane knowledge, which while no where near as destructive as the fire-flinging sorcerer, was useful in its own right. His hands moved in arcane gestures and he pointed at the cliff-top. Suddenly it seems as if the very ground beneath the goblins was crumbling with green arcane fire, sending them tumbling onto the jagged rocks below!
            Tsuto yelled in alarm and his goblins panicked, those atop the cliff stumbling back, away from the edge, and those on the trail shrieking and scrambling for the top. Hrolfr raced up after them, pausing only to take a shot at the closest flailing goblin trying to escape.
            Seeing her chance, Amismara called upon Shelyn again, and the flowing rainbow colors touched her and her friends with warmth like sunshine from within. With no one in sight to attack them or to attack, the party rushed up the cliffside.
            Hrolfr was the first to reach the top, only to have Tsuto come running at him, landing a flying kick to his chest that shoved him off the side of the cliff. Things looked bleak for the Ulfen warrior as he sailed out into space - only to suddenly catch himself on the wind, drifting down beside his companions to land on the trail with miraculous gentleness. Above, Bergi breathed a sigh of relief. She had been forced to abruptly change her song to catch Hrolfr, but it had been worth it.
            That left Meklok in the lead. As his head came level with the top of the cliff, he saw three goblins waiting with dogslicers drawn, and Tsuto sneering at him at close range. Seeing the Shoanti brave the "crumbling" trail, the half-elf hopped down onto the path before him and attacked with blinding speed, leaving Meklok badly battered. "What's the matter, Shoanti?" Tsuto jeered, "Things tougher in town than out in your tents? Don't worry, they won't be for long!"
            Amismara raised her voice in prayer, and Meklok felt a surge of strength run through him. The goblins still seemed wary of Calvio's illusion, and hung back, letting Tsuto deal with the "longshanks."
            Snarling a curse in Shoanti, Meklok flexed his claws and leapt towards the infuriating Half-Elf. He had no illusions about his ability to take the blindingly quick enemy alone, but if he could only hold him for now, his newfound companions would back him up.
            As he had expected, it was quite difficult to actually hit Tsuto, who parried every blow Meklok tried to land on him (though the first ones came close, as the half-elf looked taken aback at the sight of the sorceror's thick, sharp claws).
            Hrolfr, who had moved up as close as he could behind Amismara, turned the bow that had never left his hand on Tsuto, but in his effort not to hit Meklok his arrow whipped past Tsuto barely an inch from his skin.
            Seeing Meklok in harms way, Quickfoot screwed up his courage and trained his bow on Ameiko's traitorous brother, hoping to disable the half-elf before rushing forward.
            He managed to catch Tsuto in an inattentive second, and Tsuto bit off a yelp as the arrow punched through his armor. He retaliated by punching Meklok in the throat, grinning triumphantly as the sorceror dropped unconscious on the perilously narrow trail. <"Come on, you idiots!"> he yelled to the goblins. <"The magic is just an illusion - it's fake!">
            Bergi took advantage of his moment of inattention to drag Meklok away from the dangerous half-elf, though she couldn't go far with Calvio right behind her. From behind the pair, Amismara edged closer, then stretched out her hand and breathed a silent prayer. Instantly there was a sharp crackle of lightning, and a metallic smell in the air. Tsuto pressed himself against the cliffside and the electricity blew past him, but his eyes widened at the close call. <"Get down here or I'll kill you!"> he screamed at the goblins.
            A moment later, goblins rained down on the trail, landing beside Calvio and on Amismara's shoulders, stabbing her before she managed to throw it loose. The last one pelted Hrolfr with rocks, singing a song about how brave and smart and hungry and certainly not scared it was.
            Beside staying close to the cliffside rather than the edge, Bergi gave no indication of being out of her more powerful spells. What Tsuto didn't know wouldn't hurt him, but seeing her companions be so close to the top caused her much more stress than it had previously.
            Meklok's status in front was the most worrisome thing, but it didn't appear that the Heroes of Sandpoint (new members included) were going to just leave him there to rot. Quickfoot's immediate reaction proved that.
            Amismara blessed her dancer's training as she scurried, dodged, bent, kneeled, ducked and wove up the treacherous path, grateful to catch herself from a deadly fall. The chaos of combat, which had so recently unnerved her, now began to take on a more familiar rhythm. Hrolfr's lunges, Bergi's rescues amid flowing, sing-song taunts and curses in several languages, Aeric's thumping steps, Calvio's wonderful, unnerving tricks, Quickfoot's speed and accuracy...all of it combined into a bizarre sense of order that she herself bathed in the healing light of Shelyn's grace.
            Even Meklok's foul-mouthed, flame-spewing charge made a mad sense, and Amismara followed it up as best she could.
            Calvio snarled a curse in Ancient Thassalonian as the goblins rained down. 'Clearly,' he thought, 'this is going to get very old very fast.' He swung his staff two handed at the nearest goblin, all pretense of grace gone. The goblin hopped over the staff and blew a raspberry at Calvio, nearly jabbing itself in the eye with its dogslicer as it stuck its thumbs in its ears and waggled its fingers.
            Cursing his unawareness which caused him to fall off the cliff as well as his seeming inability to hit anything, Hrolfr threw away his bow, drew forth his axe and ran as fast as the path would allow towards the nearest goblin, roaring all the Skald cursewords as he did so (and let me tell you, he knew quite a few).
            The goblin's eyes widened as it suddenly realized its peril, but it was too late - Hrolfr cut deep into its arm before it could get away, almost as if he knew which way it would dodge.
            "Someone shut up that singer!" Quickfoot shrieked as he loosed another arrow at Tsuto, hoping that the clear space around the half breed would give him an easier shot. "We almost have him! Press the attack and we can still win!"
            "You'll win a trip over the side, you idiot!" Tsuto raged, snapping his hand out to bat the arrow aside. A moment later he just barely dodged a throwing axe from Aeric, and he turned murderous eyes on Bergi.
            "You should have stayed out of this, Bergi," he growled, advancing on the halfling.
            The bard looked up from the Shoanti in her arms to Tsuto defiantly, knowing fully well that the half-elf could now come at her with ease. A goblin was enough of a challenging opponent for the halfling in combat once stripped of her more useful magic, but now there was little to be done but trust in luck. She regretted that she might not be able to get Meklok to safety, but if she was going to be shoved off a cliff, she wanted to see it coming.
            Much as she knew he resented her, Tsuto had never raised a hand against her before. Therefore it was that much more of a shock to Bergi when he kicked her hard, repeatedly - and the glee in his dark eyes made it worse. Still, with the cliff face against her side, he hadn't been able to boot her into open space, and despite the pain she turned her attention to Meklok. Changing her song from one of courage to one of healing, the magic in her voice brought Meklok around again.
            Meklok scrabbled for purchase as his consciousness returned, unable to find enough room to stand back up. Furiously, he flung his arm out at Tsuto, snarling the words that would trigger his burning hands spell. He knew it was a matter of seconds before the half-elf sent him hurtling into the abyss. Tsuto leapt against the cliff wall to avoid the flames, but they still singed him, leaving his boots and pants smoking.
            Ignoring the goblins around her, Amismara pointed at Tsuto as best she could from behind her friends, and this time the crackling electricity that sprang from her hand jolted the half-elf badly. The goblin beside her latched onto her leg and tried to crawl up her to stab her in the chest, but she scraped it off easily.
            The goblin by Calvio had similar trouble, unable to get past the man's staff to where it could stab and cut, but the last goblin shrieked and leapt at Hrolfr's face, sending them both tumbling over the side again. The Ulfen man had a sudden flashback to the Swallowtail Festival, where the last few goblins had jumped over the side of the cliffs to avoid being caught.
            Hrolfr was able to catch himself on the trail below - it helped that the goblin had softened his fall. The little monster lay with its eyes crossed and its tongue hanging out, squashed by the ranger. At least it wasn't singing anymore.
            Hrolfrs face was a ruddy red as he struggled to contain his berserker rage. All of a sudden, the look of anger is replaced by the thousand yard stare of determination as the words of Einar One-hand echoed through his head. The old warrior continually berated his younger, more spry comrades in arms for "Fighting harder when they should be fighting smarter". He decided on a new course of action. He eyed the cliff face before him, trying to spot a path where he could ascend quickly on the right side of the cliff, preferably without attracting too much attention.
            Stowing his axe, Hrolfr scrambled up the cliff face like a squirrel, somehow finding the exact best spots to put his weight. There wasn't really anywhere he could hide while doing it, and loose rocks clattered down now and again as he climbed with furious speed, but his enemies had other things on their minds, and he made it all the way to the top without falling, though he was a bit out of breath.
            "I. HATE. GOBLINS!" Calvio yelled. Each word was punctuated by a small feint with the staff, culminating in a desperate swing at the goblin's head. Or what passed for its head...
            The goblin jumped inside the arc of his swing and stabbed at him, making him work to fight it off, while it sang in its scratchy little voice all the while. It was probably just as well that Goblin wasn't among the many languages the wizard had mastered.
            "Come and try it then you poxy whoreson!" Quickfoot shouted back at Tsuto as he dropped his bow and rushed forward while drawing his rapier, flanking the goblin behind Amismara.
            "Come on down, face someone your own size, or are you too afraid to fight me, you miserable coward!" the elf continued, hoping that his taunts would draw Tsuto away from Bergi and Meklok.
            "How DARE you?!" Tsuto screamed, his face flushing red as a tomato. For a moment, he sounded just like Lord Kaijitsu to those who had known the old noble. "I'll show you who's a cowardly whoreson! Come up here and say it to my face!" Quickfoot had other ideas, though, and ran up to stab the goblin facing Amismara in the back with his rapier. It howled and spun to face him, the snarl of a trapped rat on its face.
            For a moment it looked as though the wound to Tsuto's pride would be too much, and he would leap down onto the lower path to get at Quickfoot. But whatever else he was, Tsuto was not that much of a fool. Instead he withdrew from where Bergi crouched over Meklok and climbed to the top of the path, shaking his fist at them all. "The next one who faces me is going to hit those rocks down there like a ton of bricks!" he threatened, fists up and ready as he backed away from the edge.
            Still singing, but drained and in an unfamiliar level of pain, the halfling looked down at the prone tribesman once again. Her expression was highly apologetic. The last thing she wanted was to watch another murder, and it hadn't been her intention to bring Meklok back to the verge just to get him beaten down again as some sort of morbid human distraction. However, they weren't really in an advantageous position while boxed together like this (or in the front at all, for that matter!)
            She doubted what the Shoanti was doing was a good idea, but it wasn't like she had a better plan. It would be great if Quickfoot's taunts worked, though.
            Bergi advanced up the cliff with Hrolfr's sword out in front of her, but once she stood before Tsuto, the halfling didn't attack, but rather pulled herself into a defensive stance, keeping her eyes on Tsuto's hands and feet.
            "Don't say I didn't warn you, runt," Tsuto said with an ugly smile as he started toward her - but then a scream drew his attention.
            The howl of pain from the goblin, caused by Quickfoot's rapier, was almost enough to comfort Amismara for the loss of Bergi's fading, hopeful song. But not quite. And the thought of the poor halfling, huddled on the path with bleeding Meklok, filled Amismara with a red anger.
            Shifting her glaive to her left hand, she drew her dagger with her right, and jabbed the blade at the snarling goblin just below her on the path. She realized, dimly, that she was screaming at the vicious beast.
            Blood flew as Amismara stabbed the unlucky goblin again and again, stopping only once it slid bonelessly off the side of the narrow path, tumbling all the way down to the base of the cliff.
            The last goblin could see which way things were heading; the party's suicidal charge against an enemy with both advantageous ground and ranged weapons had miraculously borne fruit. With a final swipe at Calvio to keep him away, the goblin hopped down onto the lower path, suffering a nick from Amismara's glaive before it scurried out of range, back down the trail.
            As Bergi moved forward, Meklok struggled to his feet, spitting Shoanti curse words under his breath. He pressed his back against the cliffside to keep himself upright, and flung his hand out again, desperate to burn the bastard who'd nearly killed him.
            Peering over the side, Tsuto received a faceful of flames. He dove aside, avoiding the worst of the fire, but yelled as his hair ignited along with his shirt.
            Seeing Tsuto falter and then be singed by the sorcerer behind her lifted Bergi's courage significantly, though she was more amused by the irony of the half-elf's earlier threat being turned back upon him more than his physical pain.
            "Glad you've still got some fire left in you, Master Shoanti." she remarked, not once letting her eyes leave the dangerous combatant before her, even though the scream from below had caused her to jump. "You had me chasing the goose."
            Calvio moved up behind Meklok, unable to go past him on the treacherous trail.
            Pausing but a moment to catch his breath, Hrolfr grabbed the haft of his axe and slowly pulled it out. Staring at Tsuto he started moving towards him in an arc, attempting to cut him off without being seen.
            Hrolfr needn't have worried about being seen; he ghosted into the trees and underbrush while Tsuto was distracted trying to put out the fire burning his hair and clothes.
            Aeric continued up the rear, the rhythmic stomping of his boots and clinking of his mail drowned out by his heavy, shuddering breaths. Quickfoot rushed forward as the goblins fell away, shouting further taunts at Tetsuo. "Not so tough without your goblins, are you? I'm surprised you haven't tucked tail and run like the mongrel cur you are," the elf spat.
            Quickfoot and Aeric, like Calvio, were still trapped on the trail when Tsuto's frantic slapping at his head and body managed to put out the flames. A thin book fell from the remnants of his shirt, fluttering to the ground. Hair crisped and furious, he turned his glare on Meklok and Bergi.
            Unrepentant, Bergi danced past the half-elf to stand behind him, warding his kicks away with Hrolfr's shortsword. Amismara zapped Tsuto with a crackle of lightning, and he whirled, a bit of fear on his face for the first time. Quickfoot and Aeric charged up the trail behind the others, and it was clear that it was only a matter of time before they all reached the top.
            Meklok blasted Tsuto again, and though the half-elf was quick, he couldn't avoid the flames entirely. Tsuto howled as his skin crisped. "Fools! Get away from me!"
            Hrolfr didn't take that advice. He stepped out of the woods behind Tsuto, closing as he looked for a way to trip the half-elf with his axe. Now Tsuto was almost surrounded.
            Desperate, he turned and used Hrolfr's swing at him to jump onto the ranger's axe and flip over the two who had kept him trapped by the cliff, doing just as Quickfoot had predicted - rabbiting into the woods.

22


            Bergi ignored the escaping half-elf, instead poking around the bushes, looking for Ameiko. He had to have left her closeby... ah, there! The halfling followed the muffled sounds to find Ameiko behind a bush, her ordinarily carefully arranged hair in a mess and her face a mass of bruises. The innkeeper winced, one eye swollen shut, as Bergi untied her gag. She was clearly in bad shape.
            The smaller bard felt her stomach churn in response to the abuse her treasured friend had sustained, visibly blanching while at the same time sagging with relief. There had been moments in the past hour in which the halfling had been afraid all she'd find of Ameiko would be a scattered, goblin-mutilated mess.
            "Tsuto," Ameiko managed to rasp. "Is he... did he get away?" Despite what he had done to her, there was concern in Ameiko's reedy voice.
            "He's giving it the full of his paws, Ameiko," Bergi answered quietly, cradling the woman's head in her lap. It broke her heart, but the poor woman's day was just going to get worse. The least she could do was let the innkeeper know she was there for her.
            "Everything is going to be okay," the little bard promised, lifting one hand up in the air to make a puff of signal smoke via prestidigitation to let the others know where they were.

23


            Quickfoot bit off an oath as Tsuto turned and ran, but wasted no time in picking up the book that had fallen from his shirt before heading back down the trail to collect his bow.
            Howling a Shoanti battlecry, snarling with unfulfilled rage, Meklok staggered forward and flung his claws out one last time, sending his spells hurtling towards Tsuto's legs.
            Dimly, he was aware of his bedraggled newfound friends, but the desire to bring down this bastard creature was overwhelming.
            Hrolfr, furious at the Tsuto's almost insolent escape, barked a curse in Skald and ran after him as soon as he got his bearings. He could feel that his patience was wearing thin, but he forced himself to think of a non-lethal way of taking Tsuto down. Although it was beyond doubt that he was guilty of patricide and had kidnapped his own sister, acts that would have branded him "Nidingr" in his homeland (and believe me, that was not a nice thing to say of anyone), he felt that he owed it to Ameiko to spare his life, at least for now.
            Calvio frowned as Tsuto took off. It looked much like he was responsible for the nonse recently befalling Sandpoint, and besides, it couldn't hurt his reputation in town to help out. Ity was a lot harder to shake down a hero for money, after all..
            He set his staff in the ground and murmured words of recall in Ancient Thassalonian to it, imploring it to release the hidden magics within.
            Amismara felt her anger ebbing as Tsuto ran into the woods. She could tell by his movements that he'd be too fleet for her to catch. And she felt herself being slowed by the blood and wounds of her companions, and of Ameiko. And, she noticed now, her own hurts.
            "Die, you murdering bastard", she whispered, so softly that even she could barely hear it. She sent one last bolt of crackling energy into the woods after the fleeing martial artist. .
            Tsuto was far too fleet for Meklok to get close enough to burn again, but as Calvio peered through the trees at the fleeing figure and spoke his incantation, Tsuto suddenly dropped out of sight. Hrolfr came on the half-elf moments later, his axe ready to subdue - only to find Tsuto flat on his face, fast asleep.
            Hunter's instincts taking over, Hrolfr wasted no time finding something, anything that could be used to tie Tsuto up. Recalling that his rope was somewhere far away, he took his cloak and started ripping it into strips, then using the strips to tie Tsuto's hands behind his back. After viewing his handiwork for a few moments, he tied a short braid of cloth between his feet to stop him from running (or kicking for that matter).
            Meklok nodded at Amismara in gratitude for the healing, yet again. Then he set to work binding Tsuto's wrists behind his back to his ankles. He wouldn't be running again.
            Then he carried out a thorough search of the bound half-elf. If he was anything like as brave as the Shoanti, he'd try to kill himself rather than be brought back to face trial. Meklok intended to make sure that didn't happen.
            As everyone gathered together near the edge of the cliff, Amismara prayed to Shelyn once more, and their hurts eased - including Ameiko's, though it took more healing to cure her wounds. From her expression as she looked on her sleeping brother, it would take much more to heal the wounds inside.
            She knelt and gathered up Bergi into a tight hug, tears running down her cheeks, then stood and addressed them all. "Thank you so much for rescuing me... and... thank you for not killing Tsuto. I had no idea he was capable of something like this. I still can hardly believe it." Shaking her head sharply, she frowned. "He told me some incredible things, though. The town is in danger! I have to speak to you about it, but first I have to warn my father." She wiped her tears on her sleeve, her black hair in total disarray, but no longer bruised so badly.
            Bergi had been about to thank Amismara for the healing when Ameiko embraced her and let out her declaration. The ignorance the latter half of the message conveyed made the halfling extremely uncomfortable. It would be disservice to withhold the truth of the elder Kaijitsu's fate, but to break it to Ameiko so suddenly would be difficult, to say the least, and seemed like a crime after her previous assurance.
            The young Kauflebaum forged eye contact with her old friend and shook her head slowly. "Ameiko… the glassworks… everyone in it, except for you… Tsuto and his goblins, they…," the halfling thought she was done with tears, she really did, but her voice cracked again as the wretched details from the earlier battle came flooding back; the dismembered corpses, the molten glass coffin, and Andok's demise. "-they k-killed everyone. Every… every single person…,"
            Ameiko's eyes widened, and she shook her head in horror. Fresh tears trailed from her shocked eyes, and she covered her mouth with her hands.
            Amismara felt the same flood of emotion as Bergi, and the urge to cry gathered around her like a rising tide.
            But so soon after wielding Shelyn's healing power, the young cleric remained somewhat centered, somewhat comforted. Just as the faintly-hued magics closed wounds in the flesh, they also restored faith. Those same magics could defeat hatred, and violence and ugliness, and ensure that friends like Bergi and Ameiko could reunite.
            Putting thoughts of her own sadness at the loss of Andok and the glass-workers out of her head, she reached out to Ameiko, and added clarity to Bergi's message.
            "Dear Ameiko, your father was killed in the Glassworks." She placed compassionate arms around the inn-keeper, and hugged her.
            Ameiko returned the hug after a moment, but soon drew back again. She watched Meklok make a pile of Tsuto's belongings without comment. Her tears slowly dried up, replaced with a look of both grief and determination. When he was finished, she said, "I'll have to go to Magnimar to stand at my brother's trial. I can see on your faces that he's lucky he'll be getting one. Thank you again. From now on, whenever you want to stay at the Rusty Dragon, it's on the house."
            Turning to the others, Amismara added, "Let's get her home."

The Second Cycle