World of Hert - RotRL Campaign Journal (Spoilers in the story)

[Hert]

I love the amount of depth Paizo has put into Golarion. In particular, I loved all of the player information on Varisia in their Rise of the Runelords campaign. It helped inspire me to do something I have always wanted to do. I have written the story of my gaming groups campaign. I’m writing it by gaming sessions, or episodes. It is written from the perspective of my character, a magus named Hertogi Sverdnamegin. Instead of starting the character as a young adventurer, new to the world, I’ve taken a bit more unique approach to a first level character. I plan on posting new episodes every couple of weeks. I hope you enjoy it.

Introduction

Hert carefully packed the ancient tome into his backpack. The book had been invaluable in his research. A god could not simply cease to exist. Aroden’s life force was still out there, and an individual could, in fact, still draw from it. Aroden could not be reached through traditional clerical methods, but he was still out there. Hert had spent hours bent low over candles, transcribing notes for further study, but it was time to return this volume to the museum in Sand Point. He stood up, stretched out his back, and ran his fingers through his grey hair. The old body was not as spry as it had once been. Hours spent over ancient texts took a higher toll than it once did. Bah, everything took a higher toll he thought, and chuckled to himself. Once he had worn the full armor of a Magnimarian Cavalry officer for weeks at a time. That was a bit much for him now. He still had a carefully maintained chain shirt from his days in the service of Magnimar, and that would suffice. He slung the hand-and-a half sword he had inherited from his father across his back, and shrugged on his backpack over the sword.

As he retrieved his grey felt hat and walking stick from the corner, he happened to glance at his retirement plaque over the door.  Brass etched letters proclaimed that it had been. “Presented to Captain Hertogi Sverdnamegin for exemplary service to the City of Magnimar.”  The plaque also bore the seal of the Lord Mayor Haldmeer Grobaras. Hert spat on the broken tile floor of the ruin he had made his home. Old Grabass was the reason he had retired. He had come into office claiming he would Make Magnimar great again. Those who longed for the greatness of the old Empire had eaten it up. The mayor’s methods however, were more than Hert could stand. You expected barbarism from the Shoanti, but the Mayor’s responses to Shoanti raids were beyond the pale. It still turned Hert’s stomach when he remembered the sight and the smell of Shoanti villages that had been burned to the ground and left with no survivors. The bloated bodies of Shoanti children still occasionally haunted his dreams.

Hert stepped out of the old ruin and closed his make shift door. He had no way to lock it, but most people thought the old ruins were haunted. That was enough to keep folks from snooping about. Besides, it wasn’t like there was anything inside worth stealing. Ruins of some ancient civilization were scattered all across Varisia. This one outside of Sand Point served the needs of his hermit lifestyle well enough. It was small and off any beaten path, yet it was still just a day’s walk from the small coastal town. Scanning the sky confirmed his hopes. It looked to be a bright and pleasant day for a stroll. Hert enjoyed his periodic visits to Sand Point. Kendra Deveren, unlike Old Grabass, was proving to be quite capable mayor. He wasn’t surprised. His cavalry troop had helped her party fight off a band of Orcs, back during her adventuring days. She had seemed a capable leader even back then. It was small wonder she had been able to see her town through the late unpleasantness. Hert suspected that his acquaintance with the mayor had facilitated his access to the museum’s research library, but he never sought confirmation of his suspicions. It would also be good to see Ameiko. She always let him have a room and a meal at the Rusty Dragon for old times’ sake.

“Huh,” he mused, “how had they ever survived that ambush?” Well, he was younger then, and quite the swordsmen back in the day.

“You should start back with those old sword drills,” Hert thought. He had spent so much time on research, he was sure he was a bit out of practice.

To himself he muttered, “You may be retired old man, but you never know when you might need to use that blade again.

https://worldofhert.wordpress.com/introduction/

[Hert]

World of Hert - Episode 1

The morning sky was a vibrant blue with just a few cotton clouds floating on the horizon. The pleasant breeze blowing in from the coast made it a joy for Hert to stretch his legs. The overall effect must have been more energizing than he realized, because he arrived at Sand Point much earlier than he had expected. It was early in the afternoon as he crossed the wooden bridge over the Gurandarok River which served as one the entrances into the town. The narrow streets of Sand Point were far more crowded than usual and a carnival atmosphere filled the air. The general movement of the crowd flowed towards the town square, and Hert let the current of people carry him in that direction. Being a port, Sand Point was more cosmopolitan than most towns its size, however today’s crowd was more eclectic than usual. Races from all across Varisia were interspersed with visitors from other lands. He was sure he had spotted a tengu’s avian form among the crowd. Many of the people wore pendants, or carried banners bearing the blue, white, and gold swallowtail butterfly of Desna. A banner stretching across the street welcomed all visitors to Sand Point’s Annual Swallow Tail Festival.

“Well”, thought Hert, “that explains the crowd.” He had always meant to visit Sand Point for the festival, but it had never seemed to match up with his schedule in the past. He had been so busy with his studies that he had not realized the festival was today. A smile broke across Hert’s face. This serendipitous development was making a great day even better.

He arrived in the town square just as Mayor Deveren started making her way to the podium. Her air was confident and congenial as she started her speech. Hert noticed that the intervening years since their first meeting had been quite kind. He also noticed that her command experience had given her the ability to be heard over the crowd without straining her voice in the least. While succinct, the Mayor’s words covered all the appropriate points and thanked all the appropriate people. Hert smirked. She might be one of the good ones, but she was still a politician.  She was followed by the sheriff, who looked as uncomfortable as she had confident. Hemlock was a capable, no nonsense sheriff. He was far more interested in protecting the people of Sand Point than developing his oratory skills. Hert could respect that. Speeches from Father Zantus and the flamboyant owner of the Sand Point Theatre followed, culminating with the release of a cloud of swallow tail butterflies.  It was really quite the display.

The delicious aroma of local delicacies wafted past Hert. His stomach snarled awake, and he realized it had been quite some time since breakfast. Making his way in the direction of the food, he saw the local eateries were offering free lunches to the festival attendees. Hert noted, with no surprise, that the longest line was in front of a banner for the Rusty Dragon. The Dragon’s proprietor, Ameiko Kaijitsu, was flashing her disarming smile and handing out full plates to hungry festival goers. Long wait or not, Hert knew this was the line for him. Eventually, he shuffled his way to the front of the line.

“You’re looking great as always Ameiko”, Hert said as he gratefully accepted the plate.

Ameiko gave him a skeptical sideways smile, “You say the kindest things Hert. I was wondering if you were going to make it to the festival.”

“Sure”, he answered, “wouldn’t miss it. Besides, how could I ever pass up an opportunity for one of your specialties?” It was basically true. He had been meaning to make the festival…one day.

“I see”, Ameiko smirked, but she seemed genuinely pleased.

“Looks like the town’s pretty full”, Hert continued, “Any chance there’s still a room at the Dragon?”

“They’ll take care of you”, she said as she picked up a plate for the next in line.

“Thanks, Hon,” Hert offered as he stepped away.

Hert needed to drop the book off at the Museum, but he figured Ilsaori would be at the festival so he might as well try tomorrow. In the meantime, he could finally enjoy the festival. Vendors of all kinds lined the town square. Varisian fortune tellers vied with Magnimarian merchants and Shoanti craftsmen for customers. The square was a riot of sound and color. Various pavilions offered an assortment of games. One offered the opportunity to test your strength by striking a board with a hammer in an attempt to ring a bell; those who succeeded were rewarded with a stuffed animal. Hert’s eyes twinkled. This could give him an excellent opportunity to test his studies. Hert watched as a tall man in leather armor struck the board and rang the bell. Hert stepped up and took the hammer from the Varisian at the booth, who gave him a skeptical look. Hert hefted the hammer. He was sure it felt heavier than it would have several years ago. Hert misjudged the weight of the hammer, and did not strike the board as well as he had wished. Just as the weight started to slow, Hert made a subtle gesture. The weight continued on up and rang the bell. It had worked! He had tapped into the life force of Aroden and moved the weight! A wide grin spread across Hert’s face as he handed the hammer back to the incredulous man running the game.

The man shook his head, “I didn’t think you had it in you.”

“Never underestimate an old man.”

Hert smiled as the Varisian handed him the stuffed ape. The exercise had been to test his training. He had not actually entered for the prize. Oh well, the test had been a success. He had an idea who he could gift with the toy, and put the prize in his backpack. He then watched with his own surprise as a striking young woman in armor rang the bell with surprising force.

Wandering from display to display, Hert eventually found himself under another pavilion with an intriguing game. This one comically claimed to be a dragon race but was in actuality, lizards of various colors with more or less matching wings made of cloth tied to them. This time he did not augment his luck, and so the blue lizard on which he had bet suffered ignominious defeat amongst the uproarious laughter of the crowd. The young Varisian girl who claimed victory was a druid unless Hert missed his guess. No one else would be walking around town with an unleashed fire pelt. The big cat had never left her side, in spite of what must have been tantalizing lizards running around in front of it. The most entertaining aspect of the game for Hert was the reaction of the same striking young lady who had so deftly rung the bell earlier. She had wagered on a fierce looking red lizard, and was obviously unaccustomed to defeat. Watching her struggle with her competitive nature while resigning herself to the outcome was easily worth the two copper Hert had lost.

So far it had been a most enjoyable day. Hert was very pleased with the timing of his visit to Sandpoint. While happy, he was tired. It had indeed been a long day. Hert wanted nothing so much as to enjoy a good meal at the Rusty Dragon, and flop down on a bed. Before that happened however, one more thing remained. It would be bad form to skip the temple dedication. The town was quite excited about the temple being rebuilt after the late unpleasantness, and the last thing Hert wanted was to offend any of the town’s folk. As he made his way to the ceremony, his hip reminded him that he was not a young man anymore. His feet seemed to have decided they also no longer wished to be ignored, and were starting to lodge their own complaint.

Hert tried unsuccessfully to pay attention to the priest’s words. He felt he was at least moderately more successful at feigning attention. The bell signifying the end of the dedication began to ring, but Hert’s relief was cut short. Something shot past him too quick for him to see. There was a gasp from the crowd accompanied by an eerie sing song chanting. Then the screams began.

Goblins! Hert had dealt with them many times while in the cavalry. Adrenaline took over, and his previous fatigue was forgotten.  Hert stuck his walking stick into a loop on his backpack and drew his sword. Townspeople were running in all directions. A small number, however, were like Hert, drawing weapons and looking for threats. Hert immediately reviewed the scene with the eye of an experienced commander. Five goblins were heading into the open temple ground where he presently stood. The young warrior girl from the games was likewise drawing a two handed blade from her back. The tengu he had seen earlier faced the goblins with ruffled feathers. The tall warrior who had first rung the bell drew a wicked looking curved blade. There was also a Shoanti Medicine man, wearing captured lamellar, facing the threat with a Falchion. A fire pelt snarled off to one side as the young Varisian druid stepped forward. There was a shadow maneuvering for position against the goblin threat. Hert couldn’t quite make out who or what that might be, but it appeared to be joining the small band against the oncoming threat, so, for now, he mentally noted whatever it was as an ally.

The goblins moved forward in formation, running in a low crouch which made them even harder targets than usual. Hert worked his way to the right, preparing to intercept a goblin on the flank. Before the invaders were within range, however, the druid waved her hand, calling out in an unfamiliar Varisian dialect. The grass of the square began moving like snakes, writhing around the feet and legs of the goblins. To their credit, they did not trip, but the five invaders were no longer able to advance. The tall warrior’s longer legs allowed him to close with the enemy first, attacking on the opposite flank and opening a goblins throat before the unfortunate raider was aware of the threat. A star knife flew from the shadowed ally and struck the goblin Hert was charging. The goblin spat out an indistinguishable curse and turned in that direction. Hert took advantage of the distraction. Summoning the force of Aroden into a protective barrier with his off hand, he drove his sword down into the base of the goblin’s neck with the other. The tengu grappled with a different target, grabbing its opponent’s sword hand with its right hand, and pulling the rusty blade harmlessly past. The other hand was pummeling the shocked goblin. The armored warrior beauty was bashing yet another goblin’s shield with powerful strokes from her two handed blade. She had not yet broken though the greenskin’s fear inspired defense, but her target was too busy trying to survive to launch a counter attack. The Shoanti had engaged the remaining target, with neither combatant able to gain the upper hand.  After having dispatched his first target, the tall warrior slipped to the flank of the Shoanti’s opponent and slid his curved blade neatly between the goblin’s ribs, ending yet another threat.  Hert stepped behind the goblin trying to survive the young lady’s assault, and abruptly sliced him from shoulder to hip. The tengu released the remaining attacker, who then collapsed in an unnatural lump. If he wasn’t dead, he was close to it, and no longer a threat.

The impromptu Sand Point defenders would have loved a moment to recover, but the crash of wood and an erupting blaze immediately drew their attention to the temple. A wagon of oil had been ignited by another squad of goblins and overturned. The nasty little invaders were using their dog slicers to prevent any efforts to quench the growing inferno. Without a word, the defenders launched their own assault on the goblin arsonists. Once again, the long legs of the warrior with the curved sword carried him into the attack ahead of the rest. The goblin smoothly ducked the first swing, but was completely unprepared for the back cut which severed his spine at the base of the neck. Hert was almost on his own target when his feet slipped on the wet grass. Fortunately his slide took him under the goblins strike which passed harmlessly over his head. Well, it was better to be lucky than good. Hert came right back to his feet in a move that he hoped at least looked purposeful. Instead of pressing the attack, the goblin gestured with both hands and shouted something inarticulate. Power erupted from the goblin’s hands. The wave of power flew toward Hert, but then dissipated. To Hert’s relief, and the goblin’s disappointment, nothing happened. The Goblin’s disappointment quickly turned to shock. A lean Varisian, matching the outline of their shadowy ally was drawing a dagger from the goblins back. Even more surprising, the dagger crackled with power as the Varisian withdrew it.  The power then leapt from the dagger towards the goblin, who threw up his arms to ward off the attack. Again, nothing happened.  There was a brief moment of stunned disbelief for the three of them, interrupted by the druid’s fire pelt landing with an audible crunch on the Goblin caster. Too late, Hert realized he had let himself be distracted. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the goblin blade coming right at his head. Hert’s own blade was completely out of position. Time slowed to a crawl. Hert cursed himself for such a rookie mistake. He knew he was out of practice, but he had years of training. He knew better, and now he was going to die because he was stupid. The incoming blade deflected harmlessly at the last moment. The shield of force Hert had called forth as the conflict started was still up! This time Hert did not let himself get distracted. His Goblin attacker had been so confident of the kill that he had not positioned himself to defend against a return blow. Hert whirled in a two handed strike which decapitated the overconfident assailant. Looking around, Hert could see that the Goblin squad had been eliminated. Townsfolk were now working to put out the fire.

The motley group of defenders had survived yet again. Father Zantus came out of the temple, thanking them profusely, and tending to their wounds. The respite allowed them to catch their breath, but, unfortunately, it was to be short lived. Another scream echoed from a nearby road.

Once again, without any consultation, they headed towards the cry for help at a run. A man in fine silks was trying to hide between a rain barrel and a low stone wall, while a large mastiff held a group of four goblins at bay. This time one of the raiders was riding a large dog of his own. The mounted goblin struck down the mastiff just as the party of defenders arrived. The goblins had heard their approach this time and quickly fell into a defensive formation, ignoring their cowering victim. The tall warrior and their stealthful new companion launched themselves at the mounted adversary. The rest of the group assaulted two of the dismounted goblins, which left one for Hert.  Feigning a thrust at the goblin’s face, Hert neatly rolled his blade around an attempted parry, striking the green skinned intruder at the base of his skull just below his left ear. The goblin dropped immediately. And just like that it was over.

The group glanced around quickly, looking for new threats, but any surviving goblin attackers seemed to have withdrawn. The tall warrior took a handful of water from the rain barrel and splashed it on his head to cool down after the fight. That seemed like a great idea to Hert, who followed suit. They all sat down on the stone wall to catch their breath. It had been a while since Hert had been in a fight, and it was more tiring than he had remembered. He took a swig from the waterskin in his pack. To his relief, the rest of them were doing the same.

The town was frantic with activity, but there were no more sounds of battle. Sand Point’s residents were running around, putting out fires, and helping the wounded. The trembling Chelaxian man approached the group, his expensive clothes now wet from both perspiration and the sloshed contents of the barrel.

“Th-Thank you”, he stammered, “I, I thought I was done for.”

“You’re safe now”, replied the armored young lady.

Once the man glanced over at the beautiful armored woman he continued to speak to the entire group, but he could not seem to pull his gaze away from her.

“Please allow me to properly thank all of you”, he stated as he regained his composure. “I am Aldern Foxglove”, he continued as if they should have recognized the name, “I would be honored if you would all be my guest at the Rusty Dragon this evening, at my expense of course.” “Tomorrow”, he went on, his aristocratic air returning as his fear subsided, “ I shall make sure you are properly recompensed for your aid to my person, as well as your heroic actions in the defense of Sand Point.”

The entire group made their way to the Rusty Dragon. Aldern took the young woman’s arm as if he were protecting her, talking the whole way in what Hert could only assume was an attempt to be charming. Once they arrived at the tavern, arrangements were made, after which their benefactor was escorted by others back to his estate. Nothing travels faster than news in a small town.  All of the Dragon’s patrons seemed to be aware of the group’s actions. The applause that accompanied their entrance had been interspersed with glances of apprehension and concern. Most were grateful for their assistance, but Hert figured a certain amount of skepticism for a band of armed strangers was appropriate.

While a table was being cleared for them, Hert made his way over to the bar, where he had spotted Ameiko.

“I thought you had put your adventuring days behind you”,  Ameiko smirked.

“You know how it goes. Anything to add to the festivities”, Hert replied with a slightly embarrassed smile. “Hey, I have something for you,” he continued while reaching into his pack. Hert produced the stuffed ape he had won earlier, and handed it to Ameiko.

“Thank you, Darling”, she giggled. She blushed just slightly, flashed Hert that famous smile and left to put away the toy.

Hert was happy that she seemed pleased with the gift.

By then, the table had been cleared and Hert walked over to join his companions. Food and drink worthy of the Dragon’s reputation was brought and introductions were made. Their tall compatriot was a ranger named Mardu, with peculiar amber colored eyes. He had actually grown up fighting goblins which accounted for his familiarity with the evening’s foes. The Druid was a tattooed young Varisian woman named Zenovia. Her fire pelt, whose name was Mila was curled up in the corner with haunch of beef. The large, striped cat was given a wide berth by the other patrons. The beautiful young woman in armor was Sariel. Her hair flowed over shoulders like liquid copper, and her eyes were as green as emeralds. She somehow appeared taller now. Hert was surprised he had not noticed her height earlier, but he had been rather distracted. Every male in the tavern kept glancing over at Sariel. When she introduced herself as a Paladin of Torag, Hert was sure there would be a plethora of newly broken hearts in Sand Point. The tengu was female as it turned out. Her name was Da’naka and she wore the plain brown robes of a monk. Some in the tavern seemed galled by her avian manner of eating, a fact which didn’t seem to bother Da’naka in the least. Their shadowy dining companion was named Wesh. He was a lean young man with the typical black hair and beard of a Varisian. The beard was in a goatee and he had a couple of coins braided into his hair. He also wore eye liner, which, while not unheard of among the Varisian clans, was not particularly common either. The manner in which he glanced about the room led Hert to conclude that his source of income may not always coincide with a strict interpretation of the law. Despite the rather diverse nature of those around the table, it was the Shoanti medicine man that disturbed him the most. His name was Iron Crow. While he had the bald head and tattoos, typical of the Shoanti, he also sported a wild red beard. Hert suspected that Iron Crow had not been born Shoanti. The tribes were known to carry off children captured during raids and raise them as their own. If they lived with the Shoanti long enough, even on the rare occasion in which the captive children were found, they would seldom leave the tribe voluntarily. By then, they considered themselves Shoanti. Iron Crow looked to be of Linnorm decent like himself. Hert’s father had been a Linnorm trader who settled in Magnimar. That was not particularly common. Most likely Iron Crow’s natural parents were Linnorm raiders from the Nolands. His ancestry, however, was not what bothered Hert.  What troubled him most was the lamellar he wore. It was Magnimarian Cavalry issue. The only way Iron Crow would have obtained it was off the body of a dead cavalryman. There was a time when Hert would have simply killed him for wearing it. Grobaras’s policies had changed that somewhat. Images of dead Shoanti children came unbidden into his mind. Hert thought about how he would have reacted to those bodies if he was a Shoanti Brave. Some of his old comrades had earned a Shoanti spear through the gut. It was the conflicting feelings which truly troubled Hert.

The meal was delicious as expected. Once he had eaten and the excitement of the evening began to dissipate, Hert realized how bone tired he was. The backpack he had carried all night without noticing, felt exceptionally heavy as he made it up the stairs to his room. Hert made sure the door was latched and doffed his tunic and chain shirt. Few things ever felt as good as taking off armor at the end of a long day.  A bowl of water and a wash cloth had been provided. Hert almost felt human again after cleaning up. He wiped down his armor and blade with an oil cloth, then he sat down at the small desk and reviewed some of his notes on Aroden’s power. It wasn’t long however before he was struggling to simply keep his eyes open. Hert carefully packed away his notes and rolled over onto the bed. He was asleep before he stopped moving.

https://worldofhert.wordpress.com/

[Hert]

Episode 2, Day 1

When Hert opened his eyes, he could make out just the slightest tinge of indigo outside the window in his room. Old joints creaked as he got out of bed. After putting on pants and an under tunic, Hert decided some time to stretch might be a good idea. A couple of sword drills at a slow speed helped to work out the rest of the kinks. Feeling much better, he continued getting dressed. He headed down the stairs for breakfast later than intended. Mardu was already eating and waved from behind a giant plate of food. As Hert joined him at the table, a large platter of sausage and eggs was set in front of him, along with a tankard of very dark ale. Mardu managed a muffled greeting between bites. Hert decided that distracting the large Ranger from his meal might not be the wisest course of action, so he finished his meal in comfortable silence. When he got up to leave, Mardu nodded his head with a grunt of acknowledgement, but continued devouring the contents of his refilled plate.

Hert stepped out of the tavern into another beautiful Varisian fall day, and headed in the direction of the museum. Thoughts of the previous day’s fighting replayed in his mind. The group of strangers had worked together seamlessly without any prior discussion. He had seen that happen in the past, but it was rare. Every once in a great while, he had seen a squad of new recruits, with no prior experience together perform in such a manner. He had always made sure to keep those troopers together, under a seasoned commander.  Hert thought it may well be a good idea to give his new acquaintances the same consideration.  

“Hey, you’re one of them,” a voice from behind him and to the left broke through Hert’s concentration.

Hert’s right hand reflexively moved to the sword hilt on his back as he turned toward the sound.

“You’re one of them heroes what killed them goblins, ain’t ya”, said a plump woman walking toward him.

She was smiling pleasantly as she continued in Hert’s direction. She appeared to be in her early forties and was carrying a loaf of bread. Hert  changed from reaching for his sword, to tipping his hat to the lady in what he felt was a successful attempt to disguise his initial reaction.

“Well, I don’t know about being a hero”, Hert replied, “but, yes, mam, I was with the group who dispatched the goblins”.

“Here this is for you”, she said offering the bread to Hert.

“Well that’s very kind of you, but…”

“Nope, there ain’t no but to it. You’re heroes and I want you to have this.”

Hert realized the futility of turning down the woman’s gift.

“Thank you”, he replied. He pulled back the cloth, which was wrapped around the loaf, tore off a handful of bread, and put the rest in his backpack. He took a bite of the piece of bread in his hand. It was really good! Fresh bread right out of the oven was not something to be wasted. The woman beamed and turned to head back into her bakery.

Continuing down the street, Hert heard the woman’s voice over his shoulder, “This is the bread what them heroes eat, get some while it’s hot!”

He sighed, shook his head, and continued towards the museum. Along the way, he noticed some late summer flowers still in bloom between a couple of buildings. Hert used his dagger to cut off some cloth which was wrapped around the loaf of bread. He then cut some of the flowers, wrapped them in the strip of cloth, and placed them carefully in his pack. Arriving at the museum, he found Master Ilsoari, the museum’s curator, cataloging items scattered around his desk.

“That’s quite a collection you have there,” said Hert as he leaned against the open door frame.

Ilsoari looked up from his work, and peered quizzically at Hert over his spectacles. It took him just a moment to recognize his visitor, but then a welcoming smile spread across his face.

“Ah, good morning Captain Sverdnamegin,” he replied. “Uhm, yes, you’ve no idea,” he continued, “You can occasionally find fascinating artifacts washed up on the beach. I’m quite sure a couple of these are Thassilonian.”

“No kidding, that’s great. Well, you look like you’ve got quite a project to finish. I didn’t mean to interrupt your work. I just wanted to drop off the book I borrowed.”

“Oh yes, thank you. You can leave it right there on the table. Was it helpful?”

“As a matter of fact, it was quite helpful. Thanks for letting me borrow it.”

Hert carefully removed the ancient tome from his pack and placed it on the table. “Thanks again Master Ilsoari, have a great day now.”

“You as well Captain. Give my best to Mayor Deverin.”

“Will do.”

The task which originated his trip to Sand Point completed Hert headed back to the Rusty Dragon. He needed to see if there was any word from Foxglove. The nobleman probably wasn’t awake, since it wasn’t yet noon. The Nobility thought nothing of making others wait around all day, but they had little patience when the situation was reversed. Kendra probably had enough to do after last night’s attack. The least he could do was to keep her from having to soothe some slighted rich boy.

As Hert walked up to the tavern, he noticed a rather pudgy guardsman just outside, awkwardly repeating a very basic overhand strike drill. Hert walked into the tavern, and saw the rest to the group was sitting around the common room. Zenovia was seated by the window, looking out at the beautiful day while idly stroking Mila’s fur. Sariel and Iron Crow were sitting across a table from each other,  having a respectful but intense religious discussion.  Wesh was sitting in a corner, dexterously rolling a silver coin between his fingers, while a couple of young girls from the other side of the room kept giggling and glancing in his direction. Astonishingly, Mardu was still eating. Well that explained how he got so tall.

Looking around the room, Hert asked, “Anybody know what’s going on with the guard outside?”

“Don’t ask.” Mardu replied between mouthfuls.

Hert shrugged and stepped over to the bar, where Ameiko was drying a tankard. He gently retrieved the flowers from his pack. “I thought you might like these,” he said as he handed her the small bouquet.

“Oh, you’re the sweetest…and most of the petals are still there”, she replied through a smirk. Her tone was sarcastic, but her eyes still twinkled. She poured some water into an empty wine bottle and placed the flowers into the makeshift vase.

Hert slid on to a stool at the bar. He watched Ameiko set the flowers on a shelf behind the bar. He noted she'd kept herself in particularly good shape in the years since their adventuring days.  Just then the tavern door opened. Hert turned towards the door as Sheriff Hemlock strode into the room, giving off an air of professional concern.

Standing prominently at the front of the room, Hemlock addressed the group, “I hate to bother you again, but we may have a situation at the Cathedral. Father Zantus asked me to have you look into it."

“We were just there,” Sariel responded, “why didn’t he say something then?”

“I suppose this is a matter that came to his attention after you left,” Hemlock shrugged, “I’m not really sure. I just received the request, but he did ask for your group specifically.”

“Happy to help,” Wesh piped up, “for my usual fee of course.”

“And just what would that be?” Hemlock asked skeptically.

“A clean record,” Wesh answered.

“You may want to note, that you are not presently in a cell,” Hemlock replied with a hint of irritation, “look into this, keep your nose clean, and we’ll see what happens.”  

“Works for me,” said Wesh, standing up and adjusting his gear to head out.

Hert noticed the rest of the group was doing the same, “We’ll be happy to help Sheriff.”

The group headed up the road to the Cathedral following the Sheriff. Hert noted once again that they were organically acting as a team. There had been no discussion of who wanted to go, or even if they wanted to work together. Everyone just assumed that’s how it would be. To Hert it felt…natural.

A distressed Father Zantus greeted them upon their arrival at the Cathedral, “I’m so glad you could make it. This is just terrible. I can’t believe such a thing would happen here. It’s just terrible I tell you.”

“What’s terrible Father?” Sariel inquired in a gentle tone.

“They desecrated a grave,” the priest answered, “and he was such a gentle soul.”

“Whose grave was desecrated, and by whom?" Sariel asked.

“Azekian Tobin, he was the old grounds keeper. I just can’t imagine why someone would do such a thing. As for 'who', I have no idea. By Desna, this is just terrible. The tomb is around back, let me show you.”

The group followed the priest around to the back of the Cathedral. From the edge of the graveyard Father Zantus pointed out the tomb in question. Sure enough, the door was about a quarter open. The group approached the door in a wedge formation, without even needing to discuss it. Mardu took the point of the wedge, Sariel was to his right, with Da’naka to his left. Wesh took the left flank, while Hert took the right.  Iron Crow took up a position behind Mardu and between Da’naka and Sariel. Zenovia and Mila filled in behind Iron Crow, between Wesh and Hert. About five yards in front of the door Mardu raised his hand and knelt down. The rest of them followed Mardu’s example. The ranger stared at the door and then at the ground around the front of the tomb.

“Goblin tracks,” Mardu called back, his voice barely over a whisper. “Looks like there was around half a dozen. Boots prints too, look to be an average sized human male. I can’t make out anything inside the doorway from here.”

“Cover me while I check the door,” Wesh whispered, then moved to the opening. He studied the doorway for a moment. Apparently satisfied with what he’d seen, he ran his hand around the outside of the door. Once that was completed, Wesh started to run his hand along the doorjamb. Suddenly, Wesh rolled back away from the door. “Something tried to grab me,” he cried out, the need for stealth evidently over.

Iron Crow charged forward into the opening. He yelled a Shoanti word Hert didn’t recognize, and light poured out of the opening. Mardu was right on his heels. Da’naka was next, followed by Sariel.  Wesh darted in behind Sariel, rolling under a rusty sword that swung at him from the right side of the door. Hert cursed the impetuousness of youth and rushed through the door, calling forth the force of Aroden to protect him. The creature to the right of the door was recovering too slowly to strike at Hert. For his part, Hert was not able to stop fast enough to engage that threat, but there was some partially decayed goblin fighting Wesh. Hert took full advantage of a distracted target and drove his blade right through the creatures back. It toppled to the ground in a motionless heap. Wesh rolled back past Hert, coming to his feet behind the skeleton that had swung at him earlier. He jabbed his dagger between two vertebrae. The animated skeleton stumbled forward towards Iron Crow, who caved in its skull with his falchion. The blow was enough to break the enchantment and the bones scattered across the floor. A quick survey of the room revealed that the rest of the group had eliminated the remaining threats.

The tomb had been guarded by two goblin zombies and two animated skeletons. Why? An open sarcophagus dominated the center of the tomb. “Hey Wesh”, Hert called out, “Take a look at the sarcophagus. Let’s see what all this fuss was about. Be careful.”

Wesh looked back at him like he was an idiot for the “careful” comment, but he still gave the sarcophagus the same treatment he had given the doorway earlier. After a thorough inspection, Wesh looked inside. Hert could tell from his expression what he had found.

“Empty”, Wesh stated flatly. “There's nothing in here.”

The group crowded around to look for themselves. Sure enough, there was nothing inside but the discarded wrappings of the former occupant. That made no sense. Why go to the trouble of animating guards for…nothing?

“Could this be of interest,” Da’naka spoke up from the back wall of the tomb. She was standing over what looked like some type of discarded vestment, looking down, with her head canted to the side in typical avian fashion.

Sariel walked over to the item and waved her hand across it. She was whispering something, but Hert couldn’t make it out. She then looked up, apparently finished with whatever she had been doing. “It’s evil,” she said, “or rather it was. The aura is fading.”

Hert focused on the object, using the force of Aroden to augment what he saw. He could see the fading remnants of some enchantment. “I Concur,” he added. “There was some power in it earlier, and not that long ago, but it’s dissipating now."

“Should we keep it?” asked Da’naka.

“Burn it”, answered Mardu.

Sariel nodded, “That’s probably best.”

“This is just odd”, exclaimed Wesh.

“Yep, I agree,” Hert replied. “Let’s go tell Father Zantus and Hemlock what we found.”

Mardu gathered some kindling. Pulling flint and steel from his own pack, he quickly had the cloth burning. That completed, they left to report their findings. The priest and the sheriff were waiting for them at the edge of the graveyard. Father Zantus found no comfort in their report.

“They took Azekian’s remains?” asked the priest, “Why would they do that?”

“We were kind of hoping you could tell us,” replied Mardu, “Is there anything you can tell us that might help?”

“Not really,” Zantus shook his head, “he has lived here in Sand Point his whole life. His family were simple folk. They didn’t have much, but they were good people.”

“I think that’s all we need from you Father,” Hemlock cut in, “We’ll run down any leads, and let you know if we find anything.”

Father Zantus thanked the Sheriff, and walked back to the Cathedral shaking his head.

“Alright,” Hemlock addressed the group, “what else you got?”

“The attack last night must have been a distraction,” offered Sariel, “This must have been the real target.”

“Agreed,” Mardu added. The rest of the group as well as Hemlock nodded in agreement.

“Maybe,” said Hert, “but maybe not. I don’t think we should jump to conclusions just yet. It’s possible the grave was simply robbed as a target of opportunity. So far, we have no reason for targeting Azekian’s grave specifically. I’ll grant that it’s certainly possible that the attack was a distraction, I just think we should keep our minds open to other possibilities.”

“Fair enough”, granted Sariel, “Any idea where to go from here?”

“Mardu,” Hert addressed the ranger, “you said there were human boot tracks right? Let’s see where they go.”

The big ranger gave a slight smile and a shrug, then turned, walking back over to the front of the tomb. The rest followed him. It took a couple of moments for the ranger to pick up the trail. It led around the back of the cathedral, and onto one of the streets which led to the center of town. That was where the trail ended. Too many people had passed that way since the attack. Mardu checked the area around the intersection, but to no avail. Whoever the person was, they could have gone anywhere from this spot.

Hert took off his hat, and ran his hand through his hair while he looked around. “Let me ask you something Mardu,” he began, “You’ve been fighting goblins for years, right?”

“Yeah?”, Mardu replied quizzically.

“Where do you tend to find goblins around a town?”

“Garbage dump mostly.”

“That’s what I figured. Folks around here drop their garbage off the cliffs onto the beach at the north side of town. You think they might have headed down there?”

“Most likely. You think we should head down there?”

“Eventually, but not just yet. You think you could recognize the boots that made those tracks?”

“Maybe, they’re pretty average prints, could have been made by any number of guys.”

“What about the mud around the tomb, think you might recognize that?”

“That I would. What've you got in mind?”

“I just happen to know someone who spends a bit of time roaming around that beach. I would hate to think he’d be messed up in this, but it’s worth looking into.”

“Who do you suspect?”, asked Sariel

“Well, I hate to say suspect, but the museum’s curator, Master Ilsoari, was telling me earlier today, about artifacts he’d found exploring the beach. Not only do we know he spends time on that beach, but he also has the resources for magical research. Like I said, I don’t even like the thought of him being involved in something like this, but it’d be irresponsible not to at least check it out.”

There were nods of agreement from the group. Hert headed back to the museum with his new colleagues in tow.  Upon arrival, Hert entered at the head of the group. They found Ilsoari in the same office he had been in earlier. He seemed to have finished his cataloging, and was arranging one of the items in a display case. The door was still open so Hert knocked on the doorjamb.

The curator turned and gave Hert a slightly confused smile, “Two visits in one day, to what do I owe the pleasure, Captain?”

“Sheriff Hemlock has asked us to look into the raid from last night”, Hert replied, “We were wondering if you had any reference material on goblin rituals?”

Ilsoari stepped away from his desk, and pulled a scroll from a shelf on the wall. Hert noted that Ilsoari was not wearing boots. He was wearing shoes, and they were immaculate.

Running a finger along the scroll and shaking his head Ilsoari answered, “No, I don’t seem to have anything on that topic. Honestly, I have no idea what kind of rituals the little barbaric monsters might have, if any. If you find any, however, I would be grateful for anything you could share with me.”

“Of course”, Hert replied. “Sorry to have troubled you, but we thought it might be worth looking into.”

“Oh no trouble at all. I’m just sorry I couldn’t have been more help. Have you checked with Father Zantus?”

“Just came from there. He didn’t have anything either.”

“Well, of course, you did. Silly of me to think otherwise. Let me know if there’s is anything else I can do for you.”

“Sure will, and thanks again.”

When the group turned to leave, Hert saw Wesh rejoin them. He had come from down the hall. Hert figured he had done a little inspecting by himself. He hoped that’s all the Varisian had been up to, but he doubted it. Upon leaving the museum, they walked down the road, and into an alley, where they reviewed what they’d seen. Mardu was sure Ilsoari’s shoes had not left the prints at the tomb. Wesh had searched the curator’s chambers, but he hadn’t found any muddy boots or any other indication of Ilsoari’s involvement in the raid. The afternoon was wearing on, so they all agreed it would be better to investigate the beach tomorrow. As it was, they needed to get back to the Rusty Dragon to see if there was any word from Foxglove.

Once they got back to the tavern, they all briefly disbursed to their rooms to clean up. Fighting undead in an old tomb isn’t  generally considered conducive to being the most pleasant dinner company.  By the time they returned, the same table they had been using was already set for them.  More of the Dragon’s exquisite cuisine was  just being brought out to the table. Sand Point’s “heroes” quickly sat down on the table’s benches, and began hungrily devouring the meal. They were well into dissipating the initial ravenous pangs of hunger, when a large chair was set at one end of the table by a servant in Foxglove livery. At which time Lord Aldren took his seat at what was now, supposedly, the head of the table.

“Greetings”, the nobleman began, “I certainly hope you are enjoying your accommodations.”

General nods of and grunts of agreement were given by the members of the group, who were busy creating empty platters.

“Splendid”, Aldren continued, “I understand you were busy saving the cathedral today?”

More nods.

“Oh my, you’ll simply have to tell me all about it, but first”, Aldren clapped his hands, “your promised reward.”

The liveried servant walked around the table placing large coin purses beside the plates of each member of the group.

Aldren went on, “You’ll find fifty gold pieces in your bags. A trifling amount I know, but I did want to give you some small token of my gratitude.”

“That’s very generous of you”’ said Sariel.

“Oh posh”, Aldren beamed, “Trust me, it was the very least I could do.” He paused for a moment, “There is one more thing you could do for me. I feel so silly asking, you have already done so much, but…I would be simply thrilled beyond belief if you would join me on a boar hunt tomorrow. It would be so much fun. I would love to ride with you on a boar hunting adventure. Wouldn’t that be wonderful?”

Zenovia stopped eating and stared incredulously at the nobleman. Mardu looked at Aldren with such a flat look of contempt, Hert was not completely sure the ranger wasn’t going to stab him right there at the table.

“How much you p...”, Wesh began.

Hert cut him off, “What my colleague means to say, is that we would be honored, however with such short notice we will have to reschedule some prior commitments. I’m sure you understand. Would you be so kind, my lord, as to give us a few moments to confer?”

“Of course, of course”, Aldren responded, “actually, I have another engagement this evening myself. I tell you what, I will be here first thing in the morning. If you can make it, meet me here then. Oh, I do hope you can make it. It will be ever so much fun.” He took Sariel’s hand and bowed over it, “Always a pleasure, my lady.”

Sariel gave him a slight smile, “The pleasure is all mine, my lord.”

Aldren turned and practically bounced out of the room.

Wesh gave Hert a pained look, “What was that all about? I was just trying to get my usual fee.”

“You are trying to get on Hemlocks good side,” replied Hert, “offending a member of the nobility is probably not the best way to accomplish that.”

Wesh acted mildly offended, but said, “Good point. Alright, I’m in.”

“Does he realize he just asked a druid to go on a sport hunt?” Zenovia asked.

"Probably not," Hert replied, "the nobility are not generally known for their consideration of others. Still, I think it would be a good idea for us to go on the hunt. We don't know where this investigation might take us. Building some goodwill with Foxglove could be useful, and slighting him could make things considerably more difficult. Perhaps Zenovia, you could think of it as thinning the herd."

"I don't much care for the spoiled rich boy," Mardu interjected, "but I think Hert's right. I'm sure the meat won't be wasted. He'll probably make a big to do over having the boar cooked here. That's what they usually do. Not really any different from a boar being taken by a fire pelt."

"I suppose", said Zenovia in a more or less mollified tone.

Da'naka, Sariel, and Iron Crow also agreed to accompany Foxglove on the boar hunt.

"Now that we have that settled", Hert began, "There is something else I wanted to discuss with all of you. I'm not sure if the rest of you have noticed, but we have been working quite well together over the last couple of days. We've been working like a team, and everyone has just naturally found where they fit on that team. I trained troopers for years, and a group that works this well together right from the beginning, well, it's hard to find. I've seen it before, but it's rare. I think we may want to consider the possibility of continuing our association. I'm not asking for any commitment right now. I just think it's something we should think about."

There were nods and looks of thoughtful consideration from everyone around the table. Just then the tavern door slammed open.

A large man in fine clothes burst into the room. He was an older man, probably in his sixties, but age didn't seem to have slowed him down any. He still appeared to be in very good shape. His hair was in a long grey braid, and his face bore more than a passing resemblance to the tavern's proprietor. He strode angrily to the bar, saying, "This foolishness ends right now, Ameiko, you are coming with me."

Hert was on his feet instantly and headed over towards the bar.

"I'm sorry, Father, but I am not going anywhere," Ameiko replied.

"You have disgraced this family long enough with your adventuring and your tavern wenching," the man went on, "I have had enough and you will cut this out right now!" He reached across the bar and grabbed Ameiko by the arm, "You are coming home with me right this minute."

Hert leaned against the bar and casually grabbed the hilt of the sword on his back, "You'll be letting go of Ameiko about now, or that's not the only thing that's going to get cut out."

The man wheeled on Hert. "And just who do you think you are?" he demanded.

"Well, I'm the man who's going to make sure you let go of Ameiko."

"You listen here. This is none of your affair. This is a family matter, so go mind your own business."

Hert noticed the man still had a belligerent attitude, but he had let go of Ameiko. "Glad to, but, if you lay a hand on Ameiko again, it'll be my business."

Ameiko's father turned back to her. "Is this how it's going to be?", he asked. "This is the last time I will ask. If you do not come back with me right now you are no longer part of this family!"

"I'm sorry Father, but I think you should go now." Ameiko replied.

Her father turned around, took a couple of steps, then spun around back to Ameiko. "You are dead to me!" he shouted.

He then spun back around towards the door. Hert summoned the power of Aroden's life force and pulled an empty chair into the man's path. He stumbled over the chair, and the room erupted in laughter. Picking himself back up, the man continued angrily over to the door. Once he opened the door, Hert used the same power to close it again, causing the man to run into the door. He then opened it again and stormed into the night. Hert saw that Wesh had maneuvered to the other side of the bar during the confrontation. He gave Hert a knowing nod. The rest of the team had also positioned themselves around the room. They had backed his play. He'd never asked; they had just done it...naturally.

Hert reached across the bar and took Ameiko's hand.

"Thank you", she said to Hert. Then to the entire team she said, "Thank you all. You all have another week's stay, compliments of the Rusty Dragon." She then let go of Hert's hand and walked quickly away into her office at the other end of the bar, closing the door behind her.

Hert started to go after her, but felt a gentle restraining hand on his shoulder.

"Just let her go," said Sariel, "she just needs to be alone right now."

"You're probably right." Hert conceded. "What a day huh?"

"What a day indeed." replied Sariel.

https://worldofhert.wordpress.com/

[Hert]

Episode 2, Day 2

There was a knock on the door, and a muffled voice said, “Sir, you had left word to be awoken at this time.”

“Uh?..Wha?…Ughh…Oh…right. Thank you,” Hert responded. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, onto the floor, and went to stand up. His hamstrings gave him an immediate, painful reminder of just how long it had been since he’d last been in combat. Hert sat right back down on the bed, trying to stifle a groan. He then slowly, and carefully, stretched out his muscles. During the process, he was made acutely aware that his hamstrings were not the only muscles lodging complaints of his activities during the last couple of days. “It’s always worse on the second day,” he kept telling himself. “It’ll be better tomorrow,” or so he hoped. Truth be told, he knew he wasn’t as young has he had been the last time he had done this sort of thing. While hopeful, there was just the slightest shadow of a doubt in the back of his mind as to whether or not this old body would be able to handle the demands of this type of life. After he felt like he had properly stretched, Hert headed to breakfast. There were a whole new set of complaints from his legs as he negotiated the stairs. He was determined to hide his discomfort from the rest of the team.

Ameiko was behind the bar as he walked over to the table. She watched him with a sideways smile and a slightly raised eyebrow. “How are you this morning, hurt?” she asked.

“Right as rain,” Hert replied. “Thanks for asking. How are you this fine morning?”

She gave him a skeptical look. “I’m doing well, all things considered,” she said. “Breakfast is on the table. You better get to it, if you’re going on the hunt with the rest of them.”

“Absolutely. Wouldn’t miss it.”

“Hmm,” was all she said in reply, for which Hert was grateful.

The rest of the team was sitting at their usual places around the table. Mardu was devouring another plate of food. Da’naka was pecking at her plate. Sariel managed to look every bit the highborn lady, even in armor, with her big two handed sword across her back. She provided quite the contrast to Iron Crow, who sat across the table from her stabbing, chunks of meat off his plate with a dagger. Hert hadn’t yet seen him use a fork. Wesh sat with his back against the wall, studying the rest of the room across an empty plate. Zenovia was hand feeding Mila links of sausage; her own plate had barely been touched. Perhaps the sausage was too…processed for a druid’s tastes. Hert sat down and quickly dug into a plate of his own.

Fortunately, there was enough time for him to finish most of it before Lord Aldren Foxglove entered the room. He was immaculately dressed in finely tooled hunting leathers. By the way they fit the nobleman, Hert could tell Foxglove had worn the outfit before, but there was nary a scratch on them. Hert suspected that Lord Aldren had ridden on a hunt many times, but hadn’t ever actually dirtied his own hands with the kill.

“Oh good, you are all here and ready to go,” Foxglove exclaimed. “ I’m so pleased. I was actually worried you wouldn’t be able to make it. How silly of me. I didn’t know if you had your own mounts or not, I took the liberty of bringing you some from my own stables. I hope you don’t mind. You may certainly use your own horses if you prefer.”

“I’m sure your horses will do quite nicely,” replied Hert.

“How very thoughtful of you.” said Sariel.

“Oh, not at all, my lady,” Foxglove blushed. “Please everyone, if you would, join me outside and select your mounts.”

They all rose to leave, and headed toward the door. Foxglove extended his arm to Sariel, who graciously accepted the offer. While Foxglove was briefly distracted by his servant, Sariel looked back at Hert and rolled her eyes. A brief bark of laughter escaped Hert, which he immediately attempted to disguise as a cough.

“Are you quite alright?” Foxglove inquired.

“Yes, yes, simply had some ale go down the wrong pipe,” Hert answered

“Ah,” replied Foxglove over his shoulder as he turned and continued. “Do be careful.”

“Of course,” Hert said behind him, rolling his own eyes this time.

Once outside they all selected their mounts. Hert picked a large dappled grey stallion, and swung up onto the big horse. He winced as he settled into the saddle. That action was more painful than it should have been. This was also a fine fall morning, but with the breeze off the Gulf, perhaps a bit more humid than the previous day. Hert was grateful to be mounted.

While they were riding out to the hunt, their host brought his horse alongside Hert’s. He commented on how well Hert sat a saddle. Hert gave him a very brief history of his time in the Cavalry. Foxglove was fascinated, but he did not pry beyond the bounds of polite questions. After a short time, the nobleman rode off to talk to other members of the party. Aldren Foxglove was irritatingly foppish, but, down deep he seemed to have a good heart. Hert could look past a lot for a person with that one quality. Truth be told, it was that quality which Hert prized most. The nobleman had certainly been open handed with the team. Not only had he covered their initial stay at the Rusty Dragon, he had actually come through with the promised reward. Hert had known more than a few people who had failed in that regard. To top it all off, the mounts he had provided were first rate. Hert would have been happy to have had any of these while he was riding for Magnimar. Lord Foxglove had seemed genuinely interested in what the other members of the party had to say when he conversed with them, and he made a point of speaking with every one of them. Of course, the lion share of Foxglove’s time conversing was spent with Sariel. Hert figured he couldn’t fault the man for that. Hert might have done the same himself if he were a younger man. Truthfully, he would rather spend his time with Ameiko. Sariel was absolutely stunning, but he had built memories and shared a long friendship with Ameiko. That was something to build on. Besides, Ameiko wasn’t exactly hard on the eyes either.

It was a relatively short ride to the wood Foxglove planned to hunt. There was a pavilion set up where a number of servants were waiting for them. Hert was fairly certain the servants were there to beat the brush and drive the boar to the hunters. The problem was they would also frighten and drive forward every other animal in their path. That would not go over well with Zenovia at all. Hert brought his grey alongside Lord Aldren’s white gelding.

“My lord,” Hert began, “I would like to suggest, if I may, a more exciting format for our hunt.”

“Oh, do tell, I’m all ears,” Foxglove replied excitedly.

“We actually have an experienced ranger in our party. Wouldn’t it be more exciting to see him display his talents as a tracker?”

“Why, I declare, What a capital idea.”

Aldern Foxglove informed his servants of the wonderful idea he’d just had, and instructed them to adjust everything accordingly. Shortly thereafter, the group was riding slowly behind Mardu, along a game trail through the woods. Everyone rode quietly, looking for any movement among the trees. Everyone, except Lord Aldren. He continued his animated chatting about absolutely every thought that entered his head. Hert could occasionally see Mardu’s shoulders move up and down in what was sure to be sighs of frustration. Fortunately, Foxglove was riding beside Sariel and well out of striking range from the big ranger. Suddenly a large boar charged out of a thicket, past Mardu directly at Foxglove. The ranger swung his curved blade at the beast as it thundered past. His long arms allowed him to just reach the animal and slice it across it’s right hip. That deflected the boar’s trajectory, but did nothing to slow it down. Sariel, sword in hand, interposed her mount between the boar and Foxglove. Due to the rangers blow the enraged animal stormed by just out of reach of the paladin’s two handed sword. Hert spurred his own mount into action. The big grey stallion charged forward with a snort, eager for a fight. Hert bent forward in the saddle extending his sword straight ahead for a thrust, as he had done so many times before. He focused the power of Aroden through his sword arm and drove his thrust through the boar’s heart, drawing the blade back out with a well-practiced motion as the momentum of the charge carried him past the beast. The boar tumbled several feet, before finally sliding to a stop at the base of a large pine, in a cloud of dust.

“Bravo, Bravo” clapped Foxglove. “Oh my, that was so exciting! Simply thrilling, I tell you! Well done!”

Hert turned his mount back around and rode over to the nobleman. “This is quite the horse, Lord Aldren,” he said.

“Oh, do you really think so? Well, you would know wouldn’t you, of course you would. I’m very glad to hear it. My stable master is under strict orders to only buy the best.”

“That was quite the charge, Hert,” Sariel offered, “very impressive.”

“Thank you,” Hert tipped his hat, “that’s very kind of you. Couldn’t have done it if Mardu hadn’t caught him along the side with that long reach of his”

Mardu nodded towards Hert in acknowledgment of the credit given.

Lord Aldren’s servants took care of field dressing the boar and transporting it to the Rusty Dragon. There was going to be a feast at the tavern this evening just as Mardu had predicted.

They all went back to the Rusty Dragon to clean up as needed, grab some lunch, and determine their next steps in the investigation. Wesh decided he was going to talk to Sand Point’s street sweepers. If anyone would know about activity at the dump, it would be them. Sariel said she had some ideas about where to look around, but she was uncharacteristically vague about where she was going.

Mardu leaned across the table during lunch to talk to Hert, “You know that was close right? The whole thing could have gone very wrong.”

“Certainly closer than I would have liked,” replied Hert.

“Should have brought a bow, ‘cept I don’t have one presently.”

“True, that would have been a good idea. I wouldn’t beat yourself up too much about it. We didn’t get paid till last night, and we left early this morning.”

“Yeah, I know, but we have some time now. I’m thinking it would be a good idea to buy one. You know this town. Have any idea where to get a bow?”

“As a matter of fact, I do. Tell you what, I think I’ll head down there with you. I was just thinking a crossbow might be handy myself.”

The bowyer was thrilled to see the two “heroes” enter his shop. He was extremely helpful in finding exactly what they wanted along with the appropriate ammunition for the weapons. On top of everything else, the shop keeper had refused any payment. He viewed helping the town’s “saviors” as his civic duty.

“Your group going to reopen the Adventurer’s Hall?” the shopkeeper asked after handing them the new weapons.

“I’m sorry, the what?” Hert asked.

“The Adventurer’s Hall. The last group closed it up a while back. Been empty ever since. Figured your group might be interested. Right nice place. Shame for it to sit empty. If you decide to open it back up, I’ll cut you the same deal I did for ‘em last time.”

“Thanks for the info. If we do, we’ll certainly let you know.”

Mardu and Hert thanked him for his generosity as they left. Hert had picked up a well-made heavy crossbow. The weapon could throw a bolt with considerable force. It would be slow to reload, but in Hert’s experience, he’d generally only gotten off one shot before having to draw his sword. If he was going to send just one bolt down range, he wanted to make it count. Mardu seemed quite happy with his purchase as well, and the two of them headed back to the Rusty Dragon. On the way back Hert thought he saw Sariel head into the White Deer Inn. The woman’s cloak and walk were similar, but on second glance the hair was the wrong color, and she wasn’t tall enough. It made sense for another paladin to have made it to the festival, but a little odd that they hadn’t run across her before. Of course the woman may have just arrived. It also made sense for the Church of Desna to send one of their own to investigate the attack on the Cathedral. Hert made a mental note to mention it to Sariel.

When they arrived at the tavern, Iron Crow was sitting in the back corner with his head bowed over a tankard. Hert wondered what in Sand Point would make a Shoanti medicine man blush. Well if it was important, either Iron Crow would tell them, or they’d find out some other way. He just hoped it wasn’t important.

Hert got a tankard of his own and propped his feet up while he waited for the rest of the team. Unfortunately, Ameiko didn’t seem to be around. It would have been nice to have enjoyed the dark ale in the company of a fine, capable woman. Still, Hert was grateful for some time to get off his feet and relax. After a while, the rest of the team drifted back into the Dragon. They all sat around the table to discuss any possible clues that had been gathered. Sariel had found out that Ameiko had a half-brother named Tsuto. As it turned out, Tsuto was a half elf. That little fact had generated quite the scandal since neither of Ameiko’s parents were elven. Evidently there had been some big blowup between Ameiko and her brother a little while back. Tsuto had left town after that, and no one seemed to have any idea of where he might have gone. Most people seem to think it was no coincidence that Lonjiku Kaijitsu had recently been pressuring his daughter Ameiko to move back home. None of that seemed to have any bearing on their present investigation, but it was good to know none the less. Ameiko had apparently been going through a lot of difficult family issues lately. Hert wanted to help, but he knew he would need to be careful. You couldn’t always fix things no matter how bad you wanted to do just that. Hert mentioned the woman he and Mardu had seen earlier entering the White Deer. Sariel didn’t think there was anything to it, but she’d check it out. Wesh had found out that all of Sand Point’s trash collection was run by a half orc named Gorvi. No one in town seemed to think too much of him. He wasn’t particularly likeable, but he did get the job done. That may be a lead worth checking out. A half orc who spent all of his time making sure trash was collected could easily feel like an outcast. It certainly wasn’t unheard of for orcs and goblins to work together. Wesh then asked Iron Crow what he had found out. Iron Crow gave Wesh a hard look and said it was nothing worth mentioning. The smirk on Wesh’s face indicated there was more to this story but they’d have to deal with that later.

No one else had anything else to report, so they all decided to head out and investigate the beach. Hert realized his mistake in taking time to relax earlier. As soon as he went to stand up, angry muscles renewed their complaints with a vengeance. “Umf” involuntarily escaped Hert as he stood.

“You okay?” Wesh asked.

“Yeah, yeah, fine,” Hert answered. “Just thinking about everything Ameiko’s dealing with is all.”

Sariel placed a hand on his shoulder, “I’m sure she’ll be fine,” she said. Ameiko is a strong woman, but it’s good of you to be concerned.”

“Yeah, thanks.” Hert replied.

Sariel patted his shoulder and walked out the door. Hert was grateful to have been able to play that off. It was true. He was concerned about Ameiko. He also didn’t want the rest of the team thinking they were dragging along some old man. He’d get back into the swing of things. It just took a little longer these days.

The walk to the beach actually felt good. No, that wasn’t quite right. More accurately, the walk to the beach worked out a good deal of the soreness, making what remained easier to deal with. In the past, Hert had heard some people talk about the fresh salt air on the coast. Those people must have never investigated a seaside trash dump at low tide. There were indeed goblin tracks on the beach around the dump, but they simply could not find any useful information. Mardu, Wesh, and Hert searched all along the cliffs to find any sign of a cave the goblins may be using. Sariel and Iron Crow accompanied Zenovia while she had Mila check for any scent trail which might lead them to where the goblins were accessing the beach. Neither group found any indication of where the goblins had come from or where they may have gone. They were equally unsuccessful in locating any sign of a goblin ritual at the dump.

“Alright,” Hert said at length. This is getting us nowhere. At least it was easier to get a layout of the beach in the daylight. Let’s head back to the Dragon, get some dinner, and come back to surveil the place tonight.”

The rest of the team nodded in agreement.

The Rusty Dragon had a festive atmosphere as they walked into the tavern. Lord Aldren Foxglove was stylishly dressed and playing the dutiful host. A table laden with a variety of delicacies arranged around the cooked boar, complete with an apple in its mouth, dominated the center of the room. One of the Dragon’s cooks was slicing off juicy slabs of meat onto plates.

“Ah, our heroes have returned,” announced Foxglove, accompanied by applause from the rest of the patrons.

The team responded with slightly embarrassed waves, and made their way over to the table of food. Hert piled his plate up and took his usual spot at their table.

Hert had just set down when Ameiko placed a large tankard of Sekanjabin in front of him. “This is what you’re drinking tonight,” she said. Her eyes twinkled, but her tone brooked no argument.

Hert smiled and nodded in consent. “Thank you,” was all he said

Ameiko gave him that little sideways smirk of hers and left to take care of her customers.

By the time dinner was over, the last thing Hert felt like doing was heading back out to that fish smelling trash heap on the beach. He had eaten more than he should, and the soreness had come back while he was sitting. In his defense, the food had been excellent. The sounds of laughter and feasting were infinitely more appealing than a chilly autumn night overwatching a stinking pile of junk. Experience however, had taught Hert that the thing you least wanted to do, was generally the thing that most needed to be done. He pushed himself away from the table with an effort, and told the rest of the team it was time to go. Their own lackluster efforts at getting ready indicated that Hert wasn’t the only one reluctant to leave. Perhaps it shouldn’t have, but seeing the rest of the team moving slowly made Hert feel a little better.

The day’s earlier humidity had mixed with the cooler evening air to form low hanging clouds. The result was an extremely dark night. In spite of that, the team moved well through the dark streets to a point overlooking the dump. Mardu and Zenovia moved like shadows. Wesh was completely undetectable. Hert was hoping the Varisian was actually with them. Iron Crow moved with a Shoanti’s usual comfort with the night. Even the paladin seemed to have no trouble with the darkness. Hert watched them all silently move into overwatch positions along the edge of the cliff. A loud crack broke the stillness. Hert looked down at the pottery shard which had just broken under his boot.

“You have got to be kidding me,” thought Hert

“Hey, who’s up there?” called a deep, gruff voice from down on the beach. “In case you humies forgot, I can see you.”

“Good job,” said Wesh quietly, from somewhere in the darkness.

Hert wanted to kick him…almost as much as he wanted to kick himself.

In a louder voice, Wesh called out, “Hey Gorvi, we were just coming to talk with you.”

“Yeah, sure,” Gorvi replied. “Well if you wanna talk you’re gonna do it down here.”

They all walked down to the beach like a bunch of kids who had just gotten caught in the neighbor’s garden. Hert was glad the others couldn’t see his embarrassment, and he couldn’t see the accusing looks he was imagining. Once they made it down to the beach Iron Crow uttered the same unknown Shoanti word Hert had heard him use before, and light surrounded the little gathering. So much for nobody seeing him. Fortunately for Hert, everyone’s attention was fixed on Sand Point’s chief garbage collector. Gorvi was a big half orc with the shoulders of someone who had spent a lifetime hauling heavy items through the town. It didn’t take a ranger to see that Gorvi’s feet were far too big to have left the prints by the tomb. The team explained to Gorvi that they were just looking for any clues to help them track down the source of the goblin attack the night before. Gorvi didn’t think he had any information that would be of any help.

“Thank you for your time,” Hert told the half orc as they were finishing up. “Sorry for how things got started. Is there anything else you can think of, anyone you don’t normally see down here?”

“You mean other than you guys?” replied Gorvi.

“Yeah, other than us”

“No, no body”

Wesh tossed some coins to Gorvi, “I think you dropped these earlier.”

“Wait”, Gorvi responded as he caught the coins. “I mean…no one but Tsuto. Yeah, come to think of it, I did see Suto down here a couple of nights ago.”

The team all exchanged surprised looks with one another.

“You sure it was Tsuto?” Wesh asked.

Gorvi’s forehead creased in aggravation, “Yeah humie, I’m sure. Saw him just as clear as I saw the lot of you.”

This was not going to be an easy conversation with Ameiko.

[Hert]

Episode 2 Day 3

There were the sounds of footsteps, and the familiar voices of his new comrades just outside the door to his room. Then the sound of a door being shut. Somehow Hert recognized that as the sound which had originally woken him. More familiar voices were added, and then fading steps as his comrades made their way down to breakfast. Hert began his stretching before he tried getting out of bed. He didn’t know if it was the stretching, the sekanjabin, or perhaps getting the muscles used to working again, but whatever the reason he felt a little better this morning. He decided the sword drills were still a good idea, so he went through what was becoming his normal morning routine. The stairs still didn’t love him, but they didn’t seem to hate him as much as they had yesterday.

“Glad you could finally join us,” Wesh joked as Hert sat down. “I thought you military guys were supposed to wake up early?”

“Former military,” Hert corrected him, adding good naturedly, “I’ve earned my time to sleep in kid. I’ll let you know when you’re there.”

Breakfast was pork roast, eggs, bacon, grapes, and fresh pumpkin bread with butter. Hert smiled when he noticed he once again had a tankard of sekanjabin. That meant Ameiko was probably around somewhere. After eating he found her supervising the storage of salted pork in the root cellar.

“Breakfast was great,” Hert thanked her.

“Glad you enjoyed it,” Ameiko replied. “Your friend Lord Foxglove was very generous. We’re just putting away all the food from last night. He just told us to keep it. Looks like the house specials will all include salted pork for the next little bit.”

“I’m not sure if friend is the right word, but he seems like a nice enough guy. Doesn’t surprise me that he let you keep the rest of the food. Hey, I was wondering if I could talk with you for a minute?”

“Oh?” she asked visibly glancing over at a cook who was wrestling the barrel in place. “Should we go for a walk?”

“Probably a good idea.”

They stepped out of the root cellar door on the side of the tavern and walked around back. Ameiko gave him a questioning look.

“So,” Hert began. “I understand you had a falling out with your brother?”

Ameiko’s face became an emotionless mask. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Yeah, I get that…and normally that would be the end of it, but someone saw him on the night of the attack.”

Ameiko’s eye’s grew large. “Someone saw Tsuto? Are you sure?”

“Well, the person that saw him was sure. Look, I know this isn’t a good time, but, if he’s messed up in something it’d probably be best if we found him first.”

“Why do you think he’s involved in the attack?”

“Where and when he was seen is kind of suspicious. He shows up after not being seen for a while, and doesn’t try to contact any friends or family? Plus, the night he shows up is the same night of the attack. I’m not a big believer in coincidences. You?”

“Well…no, but how do you know he didn’t contact anyone?”

“Did he contact you?”

“No.”

“Not that big a town, you know all his friends?”

“Yeah, I suppose.”

“See, I figure in a town this size, if he’d contacted his friends, his sister, who also happens to run the best tavern in town, would have heard about it. Based on your reaction when I told you about someone seeing him here, you hadn’t heard anything. Now just to be objective, I suppose I should consider the possibility that your reaction was just an attempt to throw me off, but I don’t think you’d do that to me. I have to trust someone, and if I’m going to trust one person, I’ve decided that one person is you.”

Ameiko began to tear up. “I…I don’t know what to say.”

Hert took her hand. “Look, Ameiko, I’m here for you. If you have any idea where to find him, tell me. If it’s possible, I’ll bring him in unharmed.”

“What if it’s not possible?”

“Then he’s too far gone already, and it will be better than the alternative.”

Ameiko released his hand and turned her face away from him. After a moment she said, “If he’s still here, he’s probably at the glass works.”

Hert paused before asking, “Any idea on an unobtrusive way in?”

“No,” she sniffed. She was quiet for a moment before saying, “Hert.”

“Yeah?”

“He’s my brother.”

“I know Hon, I know.”

Hert walked back into the common room of the Rusty Dragon. That had been hard. The worst thing was that he suspected his talk with Ameiko had been the easy part. Facing her after dealing with Tsuto would be harder. She had been so kind to him. Why did it have to be him to break the news to her? He knew the answer as soon as the question entered his mind. It had to be him because he’s the one that would keep Ameiko’s best interest at heart. He was the one who would do all that could be done to bring Tsuto in safely. Sometimes life was a pain in the neck…and sometimes he had an even lower opinion of it.

Just then a woman burst into the room. She was flushed and out of breath. “Help me please! Oh, Desna! Help me. Please help me,” she sobbed.

Sariel was at her side in a moment. “It’s alright, you’re safe now. Just take a breath. Now, what help do you need?”

“It’s not me,” she gasped. “It’s my baby. One of those nasty little goblins attacked my baby. My husband has it cornered. Please, please you have to come help!

The team sprang into action. Zenovia asked one of the tavern’s patrons to tell Sheriff Hemlock what was going on. Sariel, still holding the woman’s arm, asked her to show them where she lived. Everyone else fell in behind, weapons in hand, scanning for other threats on the way to the woman’s home.

When they arrived at the house there was a young boy being tended to by a kindly older woman, who turned out to be one of the family’s neighbors. Sariel quickly checked the boy and discovered his limbs were indeed covered by semicircle patterns of needle like punctures. They were probably painful, but nothing looked life threatening.

“Yep,” Mardu said, “those are sure enough goblin bites. Probably need to get those cleaned up.”

“Are those monsters poisonous?” the mother asked with a start.

“Nope” Mardu replied, “but bites can get infected, and goblins eat some nasty stuff.”

With that the team headed into the house. There was a growling, sing song chanting coming from behind a slightly opened door. Iron Crow ran forward and pulled the door all the way open, using the door as a shield and staying out of the doorway. Mardu waited a heartbeat to make sure no arrows were fired out of the doorway, then charged in. The rest of the team rushed in behind him. There was a man lying on the floor, in front of an open closet door. He was face down at an awkward angle, in a growing pool of blood. The closet was darker, which made it difficult to see inside, but Hert could see light reflecting from the goblin’s eyes. They were swaying back and forth in time with the creatures chanting. The eyes seemed to be closer to the ground than they should have been, even for a goblin. Hert didn’t really speak goblin, but he did recognize the word “hungry” continually repeated in the chant. A horrific stench emanated from the closet. Mardu launched himself at the goblin. The chanting was briefly interrupted by a yelp indicating that the ranger’s curved blade had made it past the little monster’s defense. The chanting then continued, accompanied by the sounds of more fighting. Sariel immediately moved to check on the fallen man. Da’naka stood guard over the paladin. Wesh tumbled past them to join the fray. Zenovia and Mila took defensive positions at the closet door to make sure the creature did not escape. Hert crouched beside Zenovia with his crossbow out, looking for a shot. Wesh rolled just to the left of Mardu and thrust his short sword at the goblin as it was looking up at the tall ranger. Wesh’s blade went right through the creature’s lower jaw and into its brain. The goblin died instantly and the room was eerily silent.

The man on the floor was dead. It looked like the goblin had slit his throat moments before the team had entered the room. The room appeared to be the boy’s bedroom. The small bed against the wall was too small to be comfortable for an adult. There was a toy wooden boat on a child sized desk, and a small wooden sword and shield on the floor.

Mardu walked back out through the closet door, “It’s dead. Looks like it had been hiding in a hole dug out of the floor in the closet. Whoo, it’s nasty in there. Wesh is checking to see if there’s anything in the hole. Far as I’m concerned he’s welcome to it. Dang, it’s bad enough down there to gag a maggot.

Iron Crow called into the room, “Hemlock.”

Shortly thereafter an out of breath Sheriff Hemlock ran into the room. “Hey, I just got the…Oh Desna! What is that smell?” He stepped right back out of the room coughing. He came back in a moment later with kerchief over his nose and mouth. “I just heard there was some sort of monster attack here. Smells like whatever it was died a week ago. What in the name of Desna is going on here?”

Hert told him about the woman’s plea for help and their response.

By that time, Wesh had joined them, “Looks like the goblin had been hiding there for the last few days, probably since the attack. Looks like it’s been eating, and uh…” Wesh glanced over at Sariel, “doing what you do after eating in that hole since then.”

“Probably got separated from the rest” Mardu added. “Explains the attack. The thing was probably still mostly starved. Likely worked out best for the kid. If it had been thinking straight, it would have probably slit the boy’s throat. Same as it did for this fella” he said looking down at the body on the floor.

“That what happened?” Hemlock asked looking at Sariel.

“It would appear so” Sariel replied in a quiet voice.

Hert figured the paladin had seen death in the past. She’d certainly seen some over the last few days. Still she hadn’t grown calloused to it. Sariel was willing to commit violence when it was called for, but Hert was willing to bet she still felt the loss of every death. The old cavalryman thought the world would be a much better place if there were more such people in it.

Hemlock said he was going back outside to talk to the woman. They all followed him. It wasn’t going to be easy telling her about her husband, and she may have questions about what happened. Once outside Hemlock asked her to walk with him over to the side of the house, away from her son. She followed, leaving the boy in the care of the same neighbor as before. There, he told her what had happened. The poor woman broke down into heart-wrenching sobs. Sariel put an arm around her. The newly widowed woman buried her face against the paladin and continued sobbing. It took quite a while, but eventually the woman calmed down enough to confirm Mardu’s suspicions. The boy had been frightened of a monster in the closet since the night of the attack. At the time, they had just thought it was due to a child’s overactive imagination and fear of the dark. Yesterday, the lad had told them about seeing the closet monster eat a cat. At that point, they had been concerned about his imagination running away with him, so they told him not to tell anymore stories about the closet monster. Then, this morning, they had heard the boy screaming. Her husband had rushed to rescue the boy and she had run for help. Understandably, more sobbing ensued once she had finished her tale.

It was obvious she was in no shape to be left alone. Hemlock suggested she and her son stay at the Cathedral with Father Zantus. The woman adamantly refused to leave her belongings to the possible predation of more goblins, until the team volunteered to move all of her possessions to the Cathedral for her. Hemlock even agreed to station a guard at the home to keep any other goblins from taking up residence. With those arrangements made she acquiesced to Hemlock’s suggestion.

Packing up and moving the contents of a house by hand was no small task. The team worked until noon in order to fulfill their promise. For her part the widow seemed grateful for their efforts. The same could not be said for her sister, who made no secret that she blamed her brother-in-law’s death on the team.

Lunch time found a tired group of adventurers heading back to the Rusty Dragon with a renewed determination to put an end to the goblin threat. None of them wanted another family to suffer the same fate.

https://worldofhert.wordpress.com/

[Hert]

“Hey, hold up there a minute,” Hemlock’s voice called out from behind them.

Hert’s first thought was, “What now?” He felt a pang of guilt as soon as the thought went through his head. He really did want to help the Sheriff, but right now he had plans of his own. He wanted to discuss a strategy to end the goblin threat with his companions. He was tired from moving furniture all morning, and he wanted some lunch. He really didn’t want Hemlock adding anything else to his already full plate, unless it was more of Ameiko’s delicious fare from the Rusty Dragon.

The team stopped and slowly turned back to the Sheriff. Hert could tell from their lethargic movements that he was not the only one lacking in enthusiasm at the moment.

Sariel ran her hand through her hair over the top of her head, pulling a wayward tress of copper away from her face. “What can we do for you Sheriff?” she asked, with just the faintest hint of fatigue in her voice.

Hert was actually surprised. This was the first time he could recall ever seeing the paladin with a hair out of place.

Hemlock trotted up to the group. “The Mayor wants to talk to you,” he replied.

“Now?” asked Zenovia with audible disbelief.

“This should only take a minute,” answered the Sheriff. “Follow me.”

Hert was skeptical about it only taking a minute. Politicians, even good ones like Kendra Deveren, loved to talk. None the less, the team followed the Sheriff. They found the Mayor in front of Town Hall. She was speaking to a tall, blonde, well-armed, elven woman in leather armor.

“Your Excellency,” Hemlock addressed the Mayor, “may I present Sand Point’s team of goblin slayers.”

Hert noticed the smirk of the Mayor’s elven guest at their introduction. She carried herself with a high degree of confidence, and seemed to think the team somewhat beneath her.

“It is a privilege to finally meet you,” Mayor Deveren greeted them while shaking the hands of each team member. I apologize for not being able to thank you in person earlier. Things have been rather hectic, as I’m sure you can understand.”

“No apology necessary, Kendra,” said Hert as he shook the Mayor’s hand. “It’s always good to see you.”

The Mayor arched an eyebrow slightly at the familiarity of the greeting. Hert liked Kendra Deveren, in spite of his general disdain for politicians. For her, he would have normally used the proper form of address in public, but he wanted to show the elven woman that he was already well acquainted with the Mayor.

“And you as well, Captain,” the Mayor replied. “Please let me introduce Shalelu Andosana. She has been patrolling western Varisia for some time. Sandpoint is within her patrol sector, and she keeps us apprised of unusual activity in the area.”

Hert didn’t recognize the elf. To his mind, if she were as formidable as she seemed to believe, he would have heard of her before. Her arrogance annoyed him. He tried to refrain from making a judgment based on such a brief interaction, but the annoyance remained.

“She has just given me some information I thought you might find interesting,” the Mayor continued. “I thought it best if you heard it directly from her. Shelalu, would you please tell them what you told me?”

Shelalu gave the Mayor a slight deferential nod, “Certainly, Your Excellency.” Turning to the group, she continued, “As you may or may not know, there are a number of goblin clans in the area. These clans generally squabble amongst themselves as often as they fight with other races. Recently, I have seen evidence which indicates that these clans are cooperating with each other. That only happens when something bigger and scarier forces them to unite. That, as I’m sure you can imagine, is bad news, particularly in view of the recent raid on Sand Point.”

There were general nods of agreement and looks of concern from the team.

“Any idea who the big bad might be?” asked Mardu.

“Not at this point,” answered the elf. “That’s one of the things I’ll be looking into. I’ll send word back when I find out. Speaking of which, I do need to get going.” Turning to Mayor Deveren she nodded again, “ By your leave, Your Excellency?”

“By all means, Shelalu, and thank you for your report” the Mayor replied.

“Not at all,” said the elf, who then turned and walked away.

Hemlock rubbed his chin. “Hmh…Your Excellency, I don’t like this at all. That last raid stretched us thin. We’d have been in a bad way if these folks hadn’t been here to help out. I think I need to head to Magnimar for some reinforcements.”

Mayor Deveren regarded the Sheriff. “Are you sure this is the best time for Sand Point to be without it’s Sheriff?”

“Nope, not at all,” answered the Hemlock. “What I am sure of, is that if we don’t get those reinforcements, we won’t make it through a major attack. Based on what Shelalu just told us, that’s a definite possibility. I don’t like this any more than you do, but it has to be done.” Hemlock looked the team over. “You all think you’re up to watching over the town while I’m gone?”

“This doesn’t mean I’m being deputized does it?” gulped Wesh.

“Not any more than you already have been,” scowled Hemlock.

“It will be fine Wesh,” Sariel said soothingly. “You won’t have to do any more than you’re already doing.”

“Alright, I’m in.”

“I just need you to stay in the Sand Point while I’m gone and keep an eye out for any more goblin activity. You think you can do that for me?”

“Sure thing Sheriff,” said Hert. “We’ll be happy to help.”

With that issue settled, both the Mayor and the Sheriff thanked the team again, and left to see to their duties. Hert looked forward to finally getting that lunch. The team once again started back to the tavern. They were almost there when Bethna Corwin, one of the halfling cooks from the Rusty Dragon, came running up to them. She was flushed and out of breath. Hert was fairly sure running hadn’t been one of her normal daily activities.

“Oh my goodness,” She gasped. “Thank Desna you’re here.” she paused to catch her breath. “It’s Ameiko, she’s gone.”

“What?” Hert asked as he stepped forward, using the tone of a cavalry commander in no mood for foolishness. “Tell me exactly what happened.”

“Yes sir,”Bethna began, the stress obvious in her voice. “I was looking for Ameiko to ask her about lunch. I couldn’t find her anywhere around the kitchen, so I went to check her room. She wasn’t there but I found this note on the floor. It’s from Tsuto of all people. It was written in their home tongue. Ameiko has been teaching me the language so I translated it,” she said holding up the translated note.

Hert snatched the translation from Bethna, and began reading it.

Bethna continued, “The note says for Ameiko to meet Tsuto at the glass works. I had no idea Tsuto had come back. Oh, my I’m just worried sick. That Tsuto is just no good, and he’s telling her to come all by herself. That just can’t be good at all. They fought so, the last time he came to the Dragon."

Hert handed the note to Da’naka. He was steaming. He smashed his fist into his palm.

“I sure hope she went prepared,” said Wesh

“I can’t believe Ameiko would go unprepared.” replied Hert.

“Yeah, you’re probably right.”

Hert strode purposefully to the tavern. The rest of the team fell in behind, while Bethna struggled to keep up. Hert walked straight to Ameiko’s room, and over to a chest at the foot of her bed. Opening the chest, he saw Ameiko’s armor and weaponry still safely stored away. By that time, Bethna had caught up with them and was showing Sariel where she had found the note. Hert noticed the paladin staring very intently at the Halfling for a moment. Shortly after that, Sariel’s expression softened and she continued trying to soothe the distraught woman. Hert wasn’t sure what Sariel had been looking at, but her concern seemed to have been eased. If there was anything to it, Sariel would tell them. Right now, he had much bigger concerns.

Mardu had opened an armoire and was looking through the contents. “This looks pretty full, it doesn’t look like she packed for a trip.”

“Yeah,” said Hert. “Same thing here. Looks like all of her gear is still here.”

“So she didn’t go prepared,” stated Wesh. “Not really like her.”

“Not like her at all,” agreed Hert. “ of course, people get crazy when it comes to dealing with family. Alright, looks like we’re headed to the glass works.”

Hert led the team through the town to Kaijitsu Glass. Once there, Mardu confirmed that Ameiko’s footprints led up to the front door. Smoke was rising from a row of chimneys. The place wasn’t empty. The team circled around to the back, where Wesh spotted a drain pipe coming down from the roof. Wesh climbed up to see if there was an entrance up there. If there was, it would be less likely to be guarded. The team waited below. In the back of his mind, Hert knew Wesh was going as quickly as he could, but it still felt like an eternity before the Varisian climbed back down.

“I didn't find a roof access, but we need to get in there,” said Wesh as soon as he reached the ground. “There’s a sky light up top. Looks like the front two thirds of the building on the right is covered in bodies and parts.”

“Parts?” asked Da’naka.

“Yeah, it doesn’t look good.”

“Get us in,” whispered Hert; his expression hard as stone.

Wesh checked the door and the doorjamb. Once he was satisfied with what he saw he unrolled a leather pouch of intricate tools, and went to work on the lock. Hert found himself involuntarily tapping his foot. This was taking too long. He was about to simply kick in the door, when Zenovia reached over and gave one of the tools an additional quarter turn. There was an audible click. The two Varisians backed away from the door. Mardu carefully opened it and peered inside. The Ranger entered slowly and signaled the rest of the team to follow.

They were in what appeared to be a receiving area for incoming supplies. It was lit from above by a skylight. Sacks of various materials for glass making were stored on shelves. There was a stairway to the basement on the right, and three doors along the wall in front of them. Wesh looked back at Hert who pointed to the door on the right. Wesh nodded and held up his index finger. He first stretched a thin piece of wire across the opening to the basement at about shin height. Hert was not thrilled with the delay, but that did seem like a reasonable safety measure. They couldn’t save Ameiko if they died in the process. Wesh then moved over to the far right door and went through his normal routine. This time he did not need any assistance. Once he was done, he moved away from the door to be replaced by Mardu. The ranger opened the door slowly at first, and looked inside. His demeanor changed in an instant and he charged through the door. Hert was right on his heels.

They were in a long room with furnaces along one side. The place was covered in gore. Goblins were chattering over by the furnaces, dipping severed body parts into kilns of molten glass. Their victims looked to be the now deceased glass workers. In the center of the room, the body of the late Lonjitsu Kaijitsu was strapped to a chair and encased in a mound of glass. Hert recognized the coat he had been wearing during their confrontation at the tavern. The goblins were so preoccupied with their macabre craft that they hadn’t noticed the group.

Mardu’s long legs once again brought him into combat first. He had charged a target on the far left, aiming his blade at the base of the creatures skull. It was dead before it hit the ground. Hert closed with another goblin on the left, just to the right of the one Mardu had attacked. He used a two handed swing to completely decapitate it. Sariel brought her two-handed sword down in a diagonal slice which drove her blade deep into a goblin’s skull, starting just over its right ear. She had to kick the body off the sword in order to free her blade. Wesh ran forward in a rage, grabbing a goblin from behind and hurling it into a kiln of molten glass. The creature screamed and leapt out running across the room before collapsing. That alerted the remaining goblins of their presence. One yelled, “ longshanks,” and ran out the front door before Da’naka could close with it. Zenovia and Mila stayed at the door the team had entered through, to make sure none of the creatures got past the team to attack from the rear. The goblins nearest the furnaces turned and charged the team. Mardu used his curved blade to hook the outside edge of a kiln cover, which a charging goblin was using as an improvised shield. The move pulled the shield across the front of the creature, making it impossible for the goblin to swing its dogslicer with any effect. The ranger the then thrust the point of his blade into the goblin’s throat, ending another threat. Hert blocked the overhead strike of a new opponent, faked high, then cut low, disemboweling the goblin. Sariel’s great sword stopped the slash of another foe’s blade. She followed that up with a thrust into the creature’s left eye.

“What kind of animals do this sort of thing!” shouted Wesh. The Varisian was seething.

“Goblins,” answered Mardu, wiping persperation and blood splatter from his face. “I’ve been dealing with them for a long time. They can be cruel little monsters…but I have to admit, this is over the top even for them.”

Hert looked over at the body of Ameiko’s father. He had been strapped to a chair while molten glass was poured over him. Hert hadn’t liked the man, but no one deserved to die like that. A note had been placed in his mouth after the glass had cooled. Hert walked over and took the note. It was a blackmail letter. Hert read the it to the team. Tsuto had demanded payment or threatened to falsely implicate Lonjitsu as having orchestrated the raid on Sand Point.

“Stupid nobles,” mumbled Mardu.

“I guess he didn’t bring the money,” said Zenovia.

“Nope,” replied Hert. “Looks like goblins aren’t the only animals that do this sort of thing. Alright, we have to keep moving. We started by going to the right. Let’s continue with a right hand search until we’ve cleared this building. Hopefully we’ll find Ameiko soon.”

The team moved out, and continued their search. They had developed a standard procedure for checking doors and clearing rooms. Wesh would check the door, backed up by the rest the team. Once Wesh had unlocked the door, Mardu would open the it, followed by the rest of the group. The rooms all showed some degree of disarray from goblin activity. Invoices, furniture and glass making supplies were strewn around the floors of the various rooms. Eventually they came to a kitchen. This room had food stuffs added to the debris scattered across the floor. The most striking feature of this room were the three goblins busily stuffing food into their mouths. One was roughly average size for a goblin, but two of them were noticeably larger. The three of them turned towards the sound of the door swinging open. The two larger ones stepped forward and bellowed a challenge. Mardu and Sariel charged forward, eager to accept. Mardu feinted at the face of the large goblin in front of him, then rolled his blade away from its attempted parry, turning the attack into a cut which sliced deep into the side the creature’s neck. Sariel batted her opponent's blade aside, and followed that with a crushing blow into the goblin’s face. The third smaller bounced and darted around the room. It ducked and dodged attacks from the rest of the team. It was desperately trying to escape, until Mardu caught up to it. A curved blade protruded from its chest. The goblin’s expression turned from hope to disappointment as it stared at the sword’s point. Then it collapsed. The team took a moment to catch its breath, then continued their search of the main floor. They found no sign of Ameiko, Tsuto or any other goblins. Eventually they ended up back in the same receiving room where they had started their search.

That left the basement. Wesh removed the wire from across the entrance, and led the team down the stairs. They proceeded cautiously, as Wesh carefully checked the stairs. If it had occurred to him to string a trip wire, it may have also occurred to their quarry. Hert approved, in spite of the delay. No one was in the main area of the basement. There were crates and barrels stored in corners and against the walls. Oddly enough, the basement was the neatest room they had come to yet. There were doors to storage rooms along the far wall with an alcove on the left that could be the beginning of hallway.

Sticking to their search pattern they began with the door on the right. The team cleared the doorway with their standard procedure. Ameiko was gagged and tied to a chair in the center of the room.

Hert pushed past Mardu to free Ameiko,

"It's alright, we're here," he said, untying her gag. "You hurt?"

Ameiko gave a tiny tear stained smile, "No, that would be you."

Hert gave her a tender look, "You know what I mean. Are you injured?

"A little scuffed up, nothing worth mentioning."

Hert cut the remaining bonds with his dagger. "Looks like maybe a little more than 'scuffed up'. What happened?"

"Tsuto, he's crazy. I tried to talk to him, but he's just lost his mind."

"We know," said Sariel, "we saw your father."

Hert shot Sariel a hard look

"What about my father?" asked Ameiko.

"Nothing you need to worry about right now," Hert answered.

Iron Crow walked over, raised his hand over Ameiko, and chanted a short Shoanti prayer. Ameiko's bruises faded right before Hert's eyes. Hert gave Iron Crow a thankful look and inclined his head in acknowledgement. Iron Crow nodded back. That settled it for Hert. That medicine man was welcome to keep that armor.

"We've got this," Hert told Ameiko. "You need to go home and rest. You don't have any of your gear. You can't help us anyway. Just go back to the Dragon. We'll let you know when we have this all wrapped up."

"Yeah, you're right." Then, some of the old fire came back into Ameiko's eyes. "You know what? I'm done. I'm done with this whole thing. I'm over it. Thank you Hert. Thank all of you. You all have rooms at the Rusty Dragon for the rest of your lives. As for the rest of this, I wash my hands of it. I am so done. See you back at the Dragon." With that, she turned and walked out the door and back up the stairs.

"Shouldn't one of us go with her?" asked Wesh. "What if she runs into a goblin or something?"

Hert took off his hat, ran his hand over his hair, then put his hat back on. "Well...that would be one unlucky goblin. Besides, we still have work here. We haven't found Tsuto, and there is more than likely more goblins with him. The sooner that's dealt with, the safer Ameiko and this whole town will be."

"I suppose you're right."

The team headed out and searched the next room along the wall. They didn't find anything, but, as they were about to leave the room they heard a door open and slam shut. When they came back into the main basement area, all the doors were open except for the one room they had not yet searched.

As they approached they heard a goblin yell, "They're coming! They're Coming!"

Hert through open the door and charged in, "Wrong, we're here!"

The rest of the team followed him. A goblin, looking a lot like the one who had fled the furnace room, was standing in front of four others. Behind them, at the back of the room, was a half elven male with a bow, bearing a strong family resemblance to Ameiko. Mardu barreled into the goblin in front, knocking the creature off balance and disemboweling it as it fell. Mila leapt onto the goblin behind it, knocking it to the ground and crushing its windpipe. Da'naka ran towards another, tumbled under her opponent's blade as it swung, came up in a crouch and drove the heel of her right hand into the goblin's nose. There was a loud crunch, and the goblin collapsed. Sariel launched a furious set of blows at a goblin on the far left. The creature was able to block the paladin's attacks but in so doing it turned its back to Wesh, who drove his short sword neatly between its ribs from behind. Iron Crow tried to charge the one on the far right, but that Goblin was sprinting for the center to cut off Hert who was charging Tsuto. The half elf fired his bow and hit Iron Crow in the right shoulder. Hert summoned the force of Aroden into a shield as he side stepped the goblin's charge, throwing a side cut which bit deep into his opponents right shoulder. As the creature grabbed its shoulder, Hert used a two handed swing to sink his blade deep between its shoulder and neck. Tsuto dropped his bow and charged Iron Crow. The Shoanti was trying to pull out the arrow, so he did not see the attack coming. Tsuto slammed his fist into Iron Crow's jaw, dropping him. A paw shot out from Mila, catching Tsuto's right heel. The blow sent the half elf sprawling. The team pinned him there. Zenovia was tending Iron Crow, who seemed to be coming to.

"I'm guessing you must be Tsuto," Mardu stated. "You've been causing this town a bit of trouble. Why don't you just tell us what this is all about?"

Tsuto spat, "I'm not telling you anything."

Wesh kicked him in the side. "I say we dip him in glass. Then he'll talk. That would be justice!"

Sariel grabbed Wesh firmly by both arms and calmly said, "That is not our way. That is the way of animals like him. We will not sink to his level. Right now, we need you under control. We need you to search him and see if he has anything on him which can help us. Alright?"

"Alright," Wesh answered, somewhat calmed, "but he needs justice."

"And he will get it," she replied.

"That's right boy," snarled Tsuto. "You don't have what it takes..."

"As for you," Sariel cut in, "I am here to stop evil. You, sir, are evil. I will dispatch you without a second thought, should the need arise. Are we quite clear on this?"

"You think you scare me?" yelled Tsuto. "You're nothing. You're all nothing! My mistress will kill you all!"

"Huh," Wesh said retrieving some documents from a pouch on Tsuto's belt. "Lookey here what I found." Wesh handed the papers to Hert.

The documents explained how an aasimar named Nualia was, oddly enough, on a quest to turn herself into a demon. The attack on the town had in fact, been a diversion. The main purpose had been to raid the tomb. Nualia needed the stolen remains for a dark ritual in order to achieve her goal. The papers also mentioned that she would be waiting for Tsuto at Thistletop. Other notes made it clear that Tsuto was completely infatuated with Nualia. Hert read the contents to the team.

Sariel, knelt down and turned Tsuto's face towards hers. She held his gaze for several moments.

"So what?" said Tsuto. "You're still not her. I'm not scared of you."

"Huh," thought Hert, realizing what that display must mean about Sariel’s heritage. "Well that explains a lot."

"What do we do with him now?" asked Da'naka. "Do we take him with us? Do we leave him here?"

"If we end him, we must do it humanely," Sariel remarked.

"If you kill me my mistress will just raise me back!" yelled Tsuto. "There is nothing you can do."

"Well, we can't have that," said Hert. "We'll take him back to the jail. The guard can watch him. Then we'll come back and finish clearing out what's down here."

"I don't know, Hert," Mardu interjected. "He's a slippery one. You think the guard is up to holding him?"

"Shouldn't be a problem as long as we disarm him first." With that, Hert suddenly swung his sword with both hands, cutting of Tsuto's right arm.

Tsuto screamed.

"Only reason you're still breathing Tsuto," Hert continued, "is because you're Ameiko's brother. You're too dangerous to leave behind. At least you were. Hopefully that slowed you down a bit. I'm not going to be so gentle with you if there's a next time."

Sariel grabbed a torch from the wall and cauterized the stump of Tsuto's right shoulder.

Tsuto screamed again and passed out.

Searching the room, the team found a set of fine quality lock picks, a flute. a ring, a vial of some potion, and some currency. Mardu picked up Tsuto's bow.
The team delivered Tsuto to the jail without further incident, and headed towards the Rusty Dragon. Everyone else grabbed a quick bite downstairs while Hert went upstairs to talk to Ameiko. There was a guard standing outside Ameiko's door.

As Hert went to knock on the door, the guard stepped in front of him, "The lady asked not to be disturbed."

Hert was not in the mood for this, but he resisted the temptation to punch the man in the mouth. Instead he simply smiled and said, "I have some news Ameiko will want to hear. Could you please inform her that Hert is here to talk to her?"

The guard gave Hert an annoyed look, and for a moment Hert thought he was going to have to administer an etiquette lesson. Then the guard knocked, open the door and said, "Mam, there is a Hert here to talk to you." The young man then closed the door and gave Hert a smug look.

Hert just smiled back at him.

After a moment, the door opened again. Ameiko stuck her head out. "Hey Hert, it's been a long day."

"Yeah, I know," Hert replied gently. "I'm sorry, I didn't want to disturb you, but I thought you would want to know. We caught Tsuto. He's in the jail. He's alive, but...I...uh...cut off his arm."

Signs of heart breaking emotion were apparent behind the mask of calm she was trying to keep up. Ameikos eyes glistened as she fought back tears; trying desperately to hold herself together.

"Thank you for bringing him in alive," she sounded slightly relieved. "I'm sure you did what you had to do."

"There's one more thing."

"Yes."

"He killed your father."

Tears started to well up in her eyes, "I'm all alone now."

Hert looked her in the eyes, "No...you're not."

She tried to smile, "Thank you...I uhm...I'm really tired."

"Of course. You get some rest. I'll see you when we've got this handled."

"Alright, good night."

"Good night."

With that, she closed the door. Hert went back downstairs to join the team, and grab a quick bite. Then they headed back to the glass works basement. Once there, they discovered the alcove they had seen earlier, had a hole in the masonry which led to a tunnel through the rock. The tunnel was lit by torches in wall sconces.

"You think they're expecting us?" asked Mardu.

"Nah," Hert replied. "These are probably for Tsuto, but it wouldn't hurt for everyone to be ready...just in case."

The team entered the tunnel, and proceeded cautiously. Wesh took point, checking for any unpleasant surprises as they went. Eventually they came to an opening. Wesh halted the team, observed something for a few moments, then moved quietly back to the rest of them.

"Alright," he whispered. "up ahead the tunnel opens up into a room. There's what looks to be an altar, with dirty water bubbling up from it. It seems to be guarded by two of the ugliest things I've ever seen. They walk around like dogs on two legs, but they have no hair at all. That's not even close to being the weirdest part. Their mouths look like they open up and down as well as side to side, and they've got these weird littles arms at the edge of those mouths. I'm telling you, those things are ugly. Anybody have any idea what those things are?"

The rest of the team shook their heads in the negative. Mardu looked at Hert, who nodded back to him. Mardu moved quietly to the entrance of the room. Everyone else took up their usual positions. Once in place, Mardu led the charge on the two creatures.

While Wesh's description had been accurate, it had failed to convey how hideous the creatures really were. They were also fast. Mardu's target completely side stepped the rangers attack. Hert augmented his own strike with Aroden's life force in a two handed attack, which split the creature's sternum, causing it to writhe spasmodically on the floor before expiring. Iron Crow caught the other monster on the forearm as it parried most of the Shoanti's attack. Da'naka was also able to land a punch of her own, but, again, the defensive spin of the creature deflected most of the blow's force. Mila, however, sunk her teeth into the back of it's skull, killing it instantly. The reaction of the big cat indicated she did not care for the taste of theses creatures at all.

After the fight was over Hert and Da'naka kept a lookout for any other threats. Wesh searched the altar. Zenovia, Mardu, and Sariel inspected the monsters. Meanwhile, Iron Crow chanted a prayer over the fountain on the altar, causing pure water to replace the filth that had been bubbling up.

"These things are definitely evil," stated Sariel upon completion of her inspection. "They definitely need to be destroyed."

"I appreciate the analysis there, sister," Hert responded, "but letting those things live wasn't ever really an option."

"No," Wesh agreed, "those things had to go. I checked the altar, but I didn't find anything."

"Can we destroy it?" asked the paladin.

"It's solid rock," Wesh replied. "I don't think we have anything with us that will do more than scratch it."

"We need to keep moving," said Mardu. "I don't want anything that might have heard our little tussle sneaking up on us."

With that, the team formed up into their normal order of march and moved out. Before long, they came to a set of steps formed by increasingly small semicircular platforms which rose up to a set of intricately carved double doors. If there was something else down here, it was a fair bet that they'd find it behind those doors. They checked the doors as usual, then followed Mardu into the room. Hideous carvings and profane tapestries adorned the large open room. There was another altar at the top of some more stairs. This one appeared to have a fountain of some glowing orange liquid.

A small voice screamed from above them, "Get out!"

Looking up they saw a small winged devil flapping angrily above them. Mardu took the bow off his back, nocked an arrow, and fired at the creature. The little devil slipped easily to the side, taking only a scratch from the rangers shot. It screamed again, then cut open its forearm. Blood dripped into the altar's fountain. At once, the fountain started boiling, and two more of the same monsters they had encountered earlier climbed out of the fountain. Hert took a moment to draw on more of Aroden's force. Mardu fired again at the flying devil, but was once again only able to scratch it. The two monsters from the fountain descended towards the team. Iron Crow tried to sprint between them, assumably to purify this fountain like the last one. He did not make it. One of the creatures slashed him with its claws, and the other bit him with that hideous mouth, then tossed his limp form off to the side. Sariel charged forward with righteous wrath and cut down the one on the right with a tremendous blow from her two-hander. As the other monster turned to attack the paladin, Wesh sprinted forward and drove his short sword up through the base of its skull. Zneovia rushed to Iron Crow chanting in Varisian. The Shoanti's eyes fluttered for a moment and he groggily looked up. With the force of Aroden coursing through him, Hert calmly pulled up the crossbow hanging from a sling on his back. He wrapped the sling around his left arm to steady his aim, and fired. The bolt buried itself into the chest of the little flying monster, who tumbled lifelessly to the stone floor.

"How'd the old guy do that?" asked Iron Crow.

They all laughed, as much out of relief, as for the innate humor of the question.

"We need to stop and rest," said Mardu. "It's already been a long day, and Iron Crow needs to recover."

"Agreed," Hert nodded. "We're just asking for trouble if we continue. This place looks fairly defensible. Let's go ahead and make camp here for the night."

"Absolutely not," interjected Sariel. We are not staying in this place."

"I understand that you might not care for this place," Hert responded, "but we can't go any further right now."

"We can go back to where Iron Crow purified the water at the last altar," replied Sariel.

"No good," Mardu said. "That place had two entrances. I'd be too easy for us to get surrounded. Here they only have one way at us, and we can bar that door. I say we stay here."

Sariel looked at them incredulously, "I don't think you understand. We are not staying in this evil place."

Hert could see that Sariel was not used to being told no. It made sense. Beautiful women were not generally used to being told no, especially ones who were, quite literally, always in the right. He was sure this new experience was disconcerting for her, but he was equally sure that this was the best place for them to make camp.

"Sorry, Sariel," he told her. "I'm with Mardu on this one. This is by far the safest place for us to camp, so this is where we stay."

Sariel put both hands on her hips and stared at them with eyes of emerald fire. She then stomped her foot, turned around and flounced over to an alcove, where she sullenly wrapped her cloak around her.

"Well, that's settled," said Mardu.

Hert stared up at the big ranger, "You don't really know much about women, do you?"

https://worldofhert.wordpress.com/

[Hert]

World of Hert
Episode 4

Hert found himself on the first watch with Sariel of all people. It made sense. He needed to study some of his notes on accessing Aroden’s life force. Sariel didn’t seem to be in the mood to do anything but be annoying. He would have been done much sooner, if not for her constant interruptions. Yes, he was awake. Yes, he had to study. Yes he had to do it now. She certainly hadn’t appreciated it when he had asked if she had something she needed to do like, sharpen her sword, or brush her hair. Mercifully, their shift together was eventually over and he was able to get whatever sleep could be had on the cold stone floor.

Hert woke with a bit of a start.

Wesh lightly kicked his foot. "Come on, old man, time to get up."

"Punk kid," mumbled Hert as he got up. He'd tossed and turned all night trying to get comfortable. It felt like he had no sooner gotten to sleep, before some smart alec kid kicked the bottom of his boot. His hip hurt as he got up and his shoulder bothered him as he shrugged on his pack. What was he doing down here anyway? He'd done his duty years ago. He shouldn't have to be babysitting a bunch of snot nosed brats. He should be back at the Rusty Dragon comforting Ameiko in her time of need.

When he was finished putting on his gear, he saw Sariel up by the altar studying the fountain. "What now?" he thought. "Couldn't he just have one moment before she got into trouble?" Hert bit off a piece of jerky from his pack and hobbled up the steps to the altar.

"I knew it," Sariel said curtly. "This is a rune well. This one feeds off the souls of those who died in anger. I told you we shouldn't have stayed here."

She was right. Hert remembered reading about them in his research.

"Well, miss know-it-all," Hert fired back, "at least you survived the night long enough to say 'I told you so'. The only way to neutralize it would be to drip blood in it, and fight more of those 'things' until the power drains out of the well. Who do you want to bleed?"

"You are just impossible," Sariel spun around, and walked indignantly back to join the others.

They formed up into their normal order of march and headed out to explore the rest of the cavern. As soon as they left the temple, Hert felt his earlier frustrations flowing out of him. He knew he didn't resent these young people. He was honored to be working with them. He had the one thing they lacked, and that was experience. Hert was sorry this job needed to be done. But, he was glad to be doing it with this team. Sariel was looking somewhat abashed. Hert was willing to bet she was regretting her behavior as well. He walked over and offered her a piece of jerky. She blushed, took the jerky, and thanked him, Hert gave her a smile and nodded. Then moved back to his place in their formation. Yeah, they were good group.

It wasn't long before the tunnel opened into a round room. In the center of which was the statue of a beautiful, angry woman, carved in red marble. He hair was pulled back, and her robes flowed around her in a very dynamic pose. She carried a large book bearing a seven pointed star in her left hand. In her right she held a finely crafted ranseur with a steel and ivory shaft. Unlike the rest of the statue, the weapon appeared to be quite real. Hert could tell by the manner in which it was held, that it could actually be removed from the statue.

There was something in the back of Hert's mind he just couldn't quite recall...something about that star...seven points...seven...there were seven...Runelords! That was it, and one was dedicated to wrath. Her name was...Az...Alaz...no that wasn't it. "Hey, Sariel," he asked, "Did you study the Runelords in your training?"

Sariel's face brightened, "Runelords, that's it! I've been trying to place why she looked familiar. Alaznist, that's who she is. She's the Runelord of Wrath."

Wesh was checking around the base of the statue, presumably for hidden compartments or possible traps. There had to be a reason that such a fine weapon was still here. Hert focused on drawing forth some of Aroden's essence. He then directed that essence to retrieve the weapon for him. The ranseur pulled free, and then floated over to him. Hert used Aroden's life force to focus on the polearm. There seemed to be no enchantment on the weapon. He picked it up, and tried some mock attacks. It felt light, strong, and fast. He still preferred his sword, but this was one fine polearm.

"Hey, Iron Crow, "Hert called out. "This is better than any Shoanti spear I've ever seen. Why don't you try this one?"

The weapon floated over to the medicine man. Iron Crow looked at it suspiciously, reached for it, drew his hand back, then grabbed it. He tried a few of his own attacks, then nodded at Hert in thanks.

"That reminds me," said Mardu to Hert, reaching into his pouch. "We found this here ring. I recognize the protection symbol on it. You like to jump in and mix it up with that sword of yours. Thing is, you don't really wear all that much armor. I figure it might not be a bad idea if you wear this."

"Thanks Mardu, "Hert replied. He could tell there was indeed an enchantment on it. "Never expected a ring from another fella, but I'll take any extra protection I can get. This doesn't mean we're going steady. I'm just saying."

Mardu laughed, "No offense, but you're not really my type. Besides, I don't want to get crosswise with Ameiko"

"Good to know," laughed Hert.

They continued moving to the right, which brought them to another room. In the center of the room was a circular pool of water, rimmed by skulls. Wesh checked the rim of the pool but found nothing. There was a leathery flapping as something swooped cover them. Everyone had instinctively ducked, so no one was struck. Looking up they saw two creatures. At first, Hert thought they were large bats. As he looked closer, he saw that they were actually disembodied daemon heads with wings for ears. Tentacles writhed about their ebony heads, and long fangs protruded from snarling mouths. Iron Crow jabbed at one with his new weapon. The creature slipped to the side, avoiding the thrust. Then it let out a piercing scream which seemed to freeze the medicine man where he stood. Both of the winged daemons dove for the helpless Shoanti. Sariel and Hert leapt forward. Each of them swung overhand strikes at the oncoming threats, splitting both creatures in two.

Wesh looked at the remains on the floor, "This place is just filled with ugly isn't it"

The tunnel continued past the pool, so the team headed that direction. The tunnel led them to a set of spiral stairs going up. About ten feet up, the staircase was blocked by large chunks of stone. Whatever structure had been at the top of those stairs had collapsed long ago. There were cracks of light shining down through the rocks. Hert thought he could hear voices above but he wasn't sure.

Mardu shushed them, and stood with his right ear towards the stairs. "It's Hemlock," he said. "He's talking with some woman named Madame Mvishti. They're standing at some intersection in town. She said something about getting a clear message from where they're standing...now he's walking her back home."

"That was fast," said Hert. "I wonder how he got to Magnimar and back so fast."

"Maybe he ran into a patrol on the way," offered Zenovia.

"Could be, " said Mardu. "We'll ask him when we get back up top."

The team could go no further in that direction, so they headed back to the room with the statue. There they found another tunnel off to the right, and continued their standard search pattern. As they moved down the tunnel they could see that it eventually opened up into another room.

Wesh stopped them. The team knelt in place and waited. Wesh crawled back to Mardu and whispered. Mardu pointed at Da'naka and waved her over to him. The tengu moved forward quietly. Mardu whispered to her. Then she followed Wesh forward down the tunnel. After they had gone a few feet ahead, Mardu waved for the rest of the team to follow him. As they moved forward, Hert could see a dark silhouette standing in the opening at the end of the tunnel.

Wesh crept silently towards the silhouette. Just before he struck, the creature turned around. It was another one of those monsters with the hideous mouths. Wesh slashed at the beast, but it was able to evade the most of the blow's force. A scream erupted from that monstrous mouth. Da'naka sprang forward launching a powerful kick at its head. It snapped to one side with an audible crack. The limp body fell out of sight, indicating they had been fighting on some sort of ledge or platform. The rest of the team rushed forward. There were answering screams from either side of the doorway. Zenovia cut left down a set of stairs. Mila leapt over the edge of the platform. Another monster attacked Wesh from the right. The Varisian threw up an arm to fend off the attack. A hideous mouth chomped down on the Varisian's arm. Wesh screamed. Mardu sprung forward hooking one of its mouth arms with a small curved blade in his left hand, forcing the creature to release the Varisian. Wesh fell off the platform. Mardu swung his second blade towards the beast, but the monster warded off most of it with a long clawed arm. Zenovia screamed down below. Hert summoned a shield of force and charged left to help her. One of the monsters was latched on to the druids leg. Hert slashed his sword across the beast's back. It released Zenovia's leg, turning towards its new attacker. Wesh had recovered from his fall. He drove his short sword up, through the base of its skull, deep into the brain of the monster. It died immediately. Sariel swung her big sword in a powerful arc, cutting Mardu's opponent in half, ending the combat.

Sariel inspected and cleaned the bites on Wesh and Zenovia. The two of them seemed a bit shaken. The bites, while nasty, weren't life threatening. Both of them wanted to continue on with the team. Sariel bandaged them up, and the team continued their search.

There was nothing down below. The platform above connected to another tunnel. The team moved down that tunnel in their usual formation. Wesh assured everyone he was fine, so, once again, he took point. This tunnel eventually brought them to a rather disconcerting room. There was no one in the room, but it was filled a number of creative devices and tables, designed specifically to induce the maximum amount of pain to anyone unfortunate enough to find themselves subjected to their use. There were three doors in the room. One of them was the door they had used to enter. There was another door directly across from it, The third door was on the wall to the right of where they had entered. The team's search pattern dictated they go through that door first.

Wesh checked the doorway as usual. Mardu opened the door. There appeared to be no one in the room. It was dark inside. Da'naka retrieved a torch from one of the sconces in the other room, and handed it to Mardu. The ranger used it to light one of the torches on the wall, and the rest of the team followed him into the room. As they entered there was an audible click. The team froze.

"That's me," said Wesh. "That's my fault. I just dropped one of my lock picks. We're alright."

There was a collective sigh of relief from the team, along with several eye rolls.

"Desna!" exclaimed Zenovia. "Could you be more careful?"

"Sorry," Wesh said sheepishly.

This room looked to have once been a study, possibly used as a place for documenting any information recovered from the adjacent torture chamber. The room was decorated with more seven pointed stars. It had obviously not been used in a long time. The chairs and desk were crumbling from age. Da'naka spotted a scroll case under one of the chairs. At first, the writing on the enclosed scroll could not be read. Hert used the force of Aroden to focus on the scroll and the writing became clear to him. It was a method for focusing mystical energy into a sphere of flame. That could prove useful in the future. Hert stored it with the rest of his notes.

After the team finished searching the study, they moved on to the one remaining door. Once it was open, yet another tunnel lay before them. This passage ended at a locked wooden door. Wesh went through his normal routine, culminating in having Mardu open the door.

Low moans emanated from the now open door. Decaying goblins shuffled around the room. The floor was scattered with rickety wooden coverings over what appeared to be deep holes. In the center of the room there was some strange mutated goblin with two pairs of arms holding a longsword, a dagger and an axe.

Mardu started to charge the mutant goblin, but drew up short before stepping on the crumbling wooden cover over one of the holes. Sariel ran around the right edge of the room, avoiding the holes and bringing her within range of a goblin zombie. Her great sword bit deep into her target. The blow seemed to have minimal effect. Wesh mirrored the paladin's action along the left wall, with similar results. His opponent head butted him, then slammed a forearm across his jaw. Wesh fell back, unconscious on the floor. Da'naka jumped to Wesh's defense, kicking at the zombie in midair. The creature turned to the side dodging the attack. The mutant in the center of the room inhaled and blew a jet of flame at the ranger. Fortunately, Mardu was able to avoid the blast. Iron Crow ran up beside the ranger and thrust his ranseur into one of the mutant's shoulders. Mila leapt over a hole and slashed at the leg of the zombie fighting Da'naka, causing it to lose its balance, and fall. Unfortunately, the zombie behind it charged into the tengu, body slamming her into the wall. Zenovia stepped into the room. She angrily spat out an unintelligible phrase. A jet of water shot forth from her upraised palm, knocking a goblin zombie back onto one of the wooden covers. The rotten wood crumbled under the weight, and the creature fell out of sight. Hert pulled the heavy crossbow from his back and summoned the life force of Aroden. Mardu jumped across one of the holes to aid Da'naka, but not before another struck him across the back. Whether because of the blow or in spite of it, Mardu made it across the hole and sliced both of his blades through the neck of the zombie that had Da'naka pinned. It crumpled to the floor. Da'naka stomped down on the head of the zombie Mila had tripped as it tried to stand. There was a crunching sound and the creature quit moving. Sariel pulled her blade free and whipped it around in a horizontal strike that decapitated her opponent. Zenovia ran over and knelt by Wesh. Again, the druid chanted. This time more soothingly. Power emanated from her palm and Wesh's eyes opened. Iron Crow jabbed his polearm into the mutant again. Once again it inhaled and blew forth a jet of fire, however, the blade of the ranseur kept it from being able bring the fire to bear on the Shoanti. Hert stepped into the doorway infused with the force of Aroden, and fired at the mutant. That force guided the bolt right into the center of the target's head, which blew apart like ripe melon.

That removed the last of the threats in the room with them. Hert threw a torch down one of the holes. More zombies shuffled around in the pit below them. Iron Crow helped Zenovia tend to Wesh, while the rest gathered torches and pieces of the crumbling stone walls, which were strewn about the edges of the room. They then threw more torches into the pit, until there was enough light for the team to see their targets. They then hurled the stone fragments at the zombies until there was no more movement in the pit.

There was another door leading out of this disgusting room on the wall to the right of where they had entered.

"Great, another door," Wesh said sarcastically.

"Come on," Hert said, running his hand over the top of his head. "Sooner we get to it, the sooner it'll be done, and the sooner we can get back to the Dragon."

"You know old man, sometimes you are a real pain in the neck," Wesh responded.

"Yeah, I know," replied Hert as he put his hat back on. "It's one of my finer qualities. Now, let's get going."

Wesh got up and checked the door. Mardu opened it revealing another tunnel.

Wesh looked back at Hert, and said, " Look another..."

Hert scowled back at him.

"Bah," Wesh said, reconsidering his intended jest. He waved off the rest of the comment and headed down the tunnel, followed by the team.

A little ways down and off to the left there was a spiral staircase going down, or at least it used to. These stairs had also been blocked by rocks from some earlier collapse.

"Listen," said Mardu.

The team listened quietly. Sure enough. There were low growls coming from somewhere beneath the stones. Hert was grateful for whatever had caused the collapse that blocked the stairs. The team continued on down the tunnel. Eventually it opened up into a large spherical room.

The room was lined with a strange red metal. Dark energy arced across the surface of the wall like black lightning. Several objects spun lazily around the center of the room, suspended by some unseen force.

Sariel stared intently into the room for a few moments. "At least one of the objects floating around is evil. They keep revolving around each other, so I can't make out which ones."

Without any comment, Da'naka walked into the room. She floated up to the center of the sphere. Once there, she grabbed a bottle from among the suspended objects. Then, she discovered she had no way to get down. There was nothing to push off of, and no way to climb down. Mardu tried to grab her, but shortly found himself trapped in the floating prison as well. Mardu grabbed a book a wand, and a scroll case. Hert pulled some rope from his bag. Using the force of Aroden, he directed one end of the rope to Mardu. The ranger grabbed the rope, while Da'naka grabbed a hold of him. The rest of the team pulled the two out of the room.

"How about we have a plan next time, before we walk into weird floaty rooms," Hert asked somewhat sarcastically.

"Yeah, next time," Mardu replied.

Sariel looked at the retrieved items, "The book, it's the book that's evil."

"Alright," said Mardu. "Well, I'll just hold onto this until we can get the Padre to take a look at it. Hert, why don't you keep this scroll with those other notes of yours."

Wesh wanted the wand, so Mardu handed it to him.

There was nothing else for the team to do, but head back up.

A tired band of adventurers trudged into the Rusty Dragon, and flopped down into their usual seats. Members of the staff brought out plates of hot food along with pitchers of ale and sekanjabin. No one said anything until they had all finished at least one plate and downed a couple of tankards.

Mardu leaned across the table, "Hey, Hert, we need to go over a few things."

"Yeah," Hert leaned forward, "what did you have in mind?"

"We've been doing okay so far," the ranger replied, "but some of that has been luck. Luck's good when you can get it, but it's nothing to count on. You've been around. You've seen a few things. No one lives as long as you have in this kind of work, unless they know a thing or two. What do think we could do to put the odds more in our favor?"

"Hmh...good question. We've got a pretty good plan for getting through doors and moving down hallways, but sometimes the terrain is more open. We could probably do with a plan for that type of situation. We're not really what you might call a conventional unit. With a dismounted unit like ours, you would generally put a line of shields in the front rank. You might have noticed, but we're a might lacking in shields. Still...you have to plan for what you have, not what might be convenient. You've been doing a good job as our front rank so far. I don't like to fix what's not broken, so I can't see a reason to move you. Sariel's a toe to toe fighter, so she might as well be up there with you. Same can be said for Da'naka. I'd like to join you..."

"Nope," Mardu cut in, "I've seen you pull off some pretty spectacular shots with that crossbow of yours. You're a fair hand with that sword, true enough. Means if they get past us I don't have to worry quite so much. All in all, I'd rather have you behind us."

"Fair enough," answered Hert. "I'd put Iron Crow in the middle of the second rank with that new polearm of his. I'd be on the right. I can use my sword if they try to flank us. Zenovia should be on the left. That leaves Wesh and Mila as reserve, or possibly as flankers. Now all this is assuming we have time to form up. So far, our fights have been fairly fluid. You're right though, it's always good to have a plan. That gives you something to work off of when things go wrong...and they usually do." Hert looked around. The rest of the team had quit talking and were all listening to him. "That sound alright to the rest of you?"

They all nodded in agreement.

"Since we're all talking right now," Hert continued. "There is something Mardu and I found out about the other day." He glanced at the ranger, who nodded back at him. "Turns out, there used to be an Adventurer's Guild here in Sand Point. The bowyer was telling us about it. He said they had a hall here in town. Said it was a nice place. He was wondering if we were going to open it back up. I know we have rooms here, but it might be nice if we had some place to work out of, besides this table. I bet Ameiko wouldn't mind having her dining room back."

Again, there were general nods of agreement.

Sariel cleared her throat, " We should probably go look at it first."

"Couldn't agree more," Hert responded.

Right about then, one of the cooks came over with a couple of blackberry pies. Conversation stopped while the team cut into the steaming hot pastries, and slices were passed around. Hert was just finishing his slice when he heard someone tapping at the end of the table. Looking that direction, Hert saw Da’naka standing there, waiting for everyone's attention. It only took a moment for the rest of the team to catch on. The conversation stopped and everyone was looking at the tengu. A merchant in a party colored tunic of red and green was standing beside her.

"Excuse, honored companions," Da'naka spoke in a quiet voice, which forced those at the table to listen more attentively, in order to hear what she said. "This gentleman is called Barnabus. He has requested a moment of our time. Would you be so kind as to hear his request?"

This was the first time Hert could remember Da’naka ever initiating a conversation. Previously she had only spoken after someone had spoken to her first. The fact the she was publicly addressing the team as a whole, was enough to get Hert’s attention.There were nods and grunts of agreement from the rest team. Da'naka stepped off to one side and Barnabus stepped up.

"Thank you," he began. "I really appreciate this. Two of my associates left a few days ago to deliver two prize horses for me. Their names are Shadow Mist, and Golden Dawn. Perhaps you've heard of them? No? Well no matter, they are two of the finest stallions you'll ever see. Shadow Mist is black as night from nose to tail. Golden Dawn is simply the most gorgeous palomino in Varisia. I should have heard something by now. They were taking them to a buyer who lives off the Lost Coast Road. All of this goblin activity lately has me worried. Do you think you could check on them for me?"

"Lost Coast Road, that's the road to Thistletop, right?" Mardu asked, looking at Hert.

"Yep, as a matter of fact it is." Hert answered.

"I assume your associates have names as well?" Sariel asked, slightly indignant that the welfare of the men was seemingly forgotten.

"Oh absolutely," replied Barnabus. "Their names are Roberto and Stephan. I certainly hope they're alright, but please find those horses. There will be no mistaking them once you find them."

"As it turns out, we just happen to be going that way," said Hert. "We will certainly keep an eye out for them."

"Oh, thank you," Barnabus sighed with relief. "There is quite the reward if you can find out what happened, even more if you can bring them back safe and sound."

"Duly noted," Wesh remarked.

"You can reach me through the Goblin Squash Stables here in Sand Point. I believe the proprietor there would like to speak with you, as well. Thank you again for your time." With that, Barnabus bowed and left the team to finish their dessert.

"Catchy name for a stable," commented Mardu.

Ameiko walked over to their table, "Everybody got everything they need?"

“Oh, we’re fine, Hon,” Hert replied. “ Your folks are taking great care of us.” In a more concerned tone, he asked, “How are you doing?”

“I’m doing fine,” answered Ameiko, with a slight edge to her voice. She crossed her arms, which Hert knew was not a good sign. “Yeah, things are just great, what with Tsuto running around free and all.”

“What?” exclaimed Zenovia.

"Could you say that again?" Hert asked with no humor in his voice.

"Yep, I just found out this morning, "Ameiko replied. "Evidently, it is policy to deliver murder suspects to Magnimar for trial. They tried moving him last night, and he escaped. Now he's running around loose. Yeah, I'm fine. I'm doing fantastic."

There were tears forming at the edges of Ameiko's eyes. Hert thought they were most likely from anger as much as grief. He was sure both emotions were in those tears. "We'll find him," he said.

Amieko stuck out her palm, then brought it back to cover her mouth. She looked down at the ground for a moment, then walked out of the room.

"Let her go," said Sariel.

Yeah, I know," replied Hert. "You have got to be kidding me!" he said with rising frustration. "How in the world did those incompetents manage to let a one armed man get away from them?"

"Don't let it rattle you Hert," said Mardu. "Like you said, we'll find him."

Hert nodded. "Alright, vacation is over. We've got things to take care of this afternoon, so we better get to it. We're going to head out to Thistletop first thing in the morning. Everybody good with that?" They all nodded in agreement.

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