As much as he would like to meet some potential Fey, he knows how capricious the people can be. The humans are relying on him for Glossleaf.
Those unusual creatures, seeing Nigel not make any hostile moves, do not pay him any heed.
On the 7th hour of Nigel’s glossleaf picking he runs into 4 large masses of hobgoblins wielding spears and shields, with longbows on their backs.
”You are now in Ironfang Territory. Surrender now, or face our wrath!” They move up and ready to shoot at Nigel should he attempt to do anything other then surrender.
The troops volley fire at him. He manages to partially dodge the first volley and the third volley but gets the full brunt of the second and fourth volley.
Grenwold decides that it is not a good idea to investigate, finishes collecting his Glossleaf, and returns to camp.
Father Noelan is already waiting at camp, rubbing his eyes wearily while Cavall who looks rather tired and pawsore after a whole day of running about.
"So how did you search go? I only managed to find enough glossleaf for 6 tinctures worth."Father Noelan states. "And I got ransomed for food in a genghryl pit and Nigel had to bail me out."
"Not to mention the Fangwood is teaming with hobgoblins. Found another 4 groups with bombs and good thing we were faster then them, or you wouldn't see me or Cavall here now. That was a really close shave!"
Nigel manages to evade the hobgoblins and continues his search for glossleaf.
He then returns to the place with the sick humans to find Father Noelan, Robert and Grenwold already there.
"You're hurt!" Father Noelan exclaims as a rather pincushioned Nigel shows up at camp. "What happened?" Father Noelan asks concernedly as he heals Nigel's wounds.
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Nigel, looking quite tired, shrugs nonchalantly.
"I ran into four Hobgoblin patrols, at ze same time. I had to Burrow to safety."
He then smiles triumphantly.
"I did, however, recover a reasonable quantity of Glossleaf!"
Nigel then busies himself preparing the tinctures, and applying them to the sick.
"Yeah I ran into four patrols of bomb throwers, and good thing we were a little faster to react then them and manged to get away."Father Noelan commiserates."I swear the Fangwood is teaming with hobgoblins!"
"Good job everyone!" Father Noelan takes out his six tinctures worth of glossleaf and then Nigel prepares the tinctures and starts handing them out. The glossleaf is indeed remarkable, with the stomach discomfort subsiding soon after. The party are hailed as heroes as the refugees thank them for saving their lives.
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Nigel injects a dose of Deathwine, and starts chugging potions.
When he is feeling more his usual self, and he can see that the people are recovering, he relaxes, and starts talking with them.
"Ve can give you about a veek's worth of supplies, if you zink zat vill help. Combined viz some foraged food, zat should last you a vhile. Vhere are you all from, and vhere are you planning to go? Ze Vestern Fangwood is not safe; ze place is veritably teeming viz Hobgoblins!"
Grenwold returns, carrying a bundle of glossleaf tied to Fenton’s flank. Fenton appears to almost be the color of the forest until Gren concentrates a moment and he returns to his normal earthy color. ”I managed to get 13 - we ran into a number of hobgoblin patrols, as well as a gathering of what sounded like Fey. We avoided all of them, there was no chance that we could take any of them and I didn’t want to get delayed by the Fey.” He hands over the bundle to Nigel. ”Oof, you guys don’t look so well.”
"We were trying to live in the Fangwood when our home town, Ecru were destroyed by hobgoblins," The dark complexioned man with wavy black hair answers.
"Well, I was returning to my hometown, Red Hollow, but saw it in ruins," An Ulfen man with a thick bushy beard says, "And decided that I didn't want to see what did that, so I fled to the Fangwood."
"Jarth hasn't said on any place we're headed to," Albert says while glowering at the dark complexioned man with wavy black hair.
A thought occurs to Nigel.
"Fazer, vould you like zose Oils of Gravity Bow zat ve vere given?"
"Well, I could certainly use them, but shouldn't you ask Robert as well?" Father Noelan replies.
"No, I don't feel so good. Fell into a genghryl pit and got bitten by it and had to wait for Nigel to rescue me. Good thing that genghryl was open to negotiations."Father Noelan replies. "I think you fared the best of three of us, Grenwold."Father Noelan remarks.
"And I'm glad to be back here as well. I've not ridden that long for a long time, and I think Cavall appreciates not having to carry me around."
”Burrowing, good trick! Fenton and I tried out our burrow powers once we were infused with a bit of planar magic. Maybe we can take advantage of it somehow, but I’m not sure how I’d stay on his back during the process. I think we need to figure out a way to take them - maybe invest in fire resistance? Or just hope we get lucky and can run away? While there I spotted four of those alchemical Legion groups. If they had seen you guys... ” Grenwold looks pained and thoughtful, and then notices Noelan isn’t doing so great. ”Are you okay Father? You look hurt too. You know, it was very brave of you guys to go in the woods, you know.” Grenwold helps Nigel prepare the glossleaf tinctures and helps Robert administer them.
”What do you folks want to do? We have a cozy settlement a few days away, but the woods are dangerous. We can’t escort you there, as we have extremely pressing business elsewhere”
Grenwold continues to chat with Skinder about what she’s interested in, and he frequently tries to take a genuine interest in them. Towards the end of the conversation, he will also attempt to get her to open up about doing creative endeavors, instead of just thinking about things that are practical. ”So, I haven’t asked for much, but if you could do me a favor, I’d like you to see if you can make something - it doesn’t have to be much, a carving or a drawing, or a song, or a type of jerky! I’m going to be gone for some time, so you don’t have to do it if you don’t want, I’ll never know... but the effort matters. You are safe here now, or as safe as you’ve ever been. Whatever you make, you can give to a friend. Maybe to Oreld as thanks for a job. If it were me, I’d make something that isn’t practical, but is from your heart. If you do this for me, we’re even, and I’ll never bother you about anything again.”
Before he leaves, Grenwold will also speak to Skinder and Jet about possibly relocating Skinder to a room in the basement instead of her little house outside, if she wants.
"I'm fine now. I healed myself afterwards. Thanks for your concern," Father Noelan thanks Grenwold. "I already said those groups would be trouble, but Nigel said that if they attacked Longshadow, we would have a chance to bolster our defences against fire."
The refugees brighten when Grenwold talks about the cozy settlement, but become gloomy when Grenwold states that they have pressing business.
"I don't know, with the woods teaming with hobgoblins and god knows what Genghyrl's you were talking about, I don't think we'll be about to make it there on our own." One brunette woman says dispiritedly.
Skinder seems rather taken aback by Grenwold's suggestion. She stammers, "Urm....I'm no cook, you know...I might give him food poisoning by mistake." She blushes. "I certainly do want to thank Oreld for giving me a job, but ah...carving, ah...drawing...unless you wanted me to draw a map?" Skinder asks Grenwold questioningly.
Then Skinder sighs as she explains, "Look...hobgoblins don't encourage things that are not practical. If things aren't to further military pursuits, they're considered a waste of time. Even all that drumming serves a purpose of boosting morale and bloodlust."
"I promise you I'll come up with something for Oreld. But I'll need to think a little while on what I'm going to give him, though I already have some ideas." Skinder promises Grenwold. "I won't say it won't be practical, because hobgoblins don't know how to be anything other then practical. Sorry Grenwold." Skinder apologizes.
Skinder does not mind where she sleeps, as long as she has a roof over her head. Oreld is, however interested in having her relocated to the cave system so it is more convenient for her to show up as his laboratory.
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Nigel pulls out the map.
"Vhere vere Redburrow and Ecru? Ve might be able to do a quick reconnoitre on our vay zrough..."
When Gren mentions Misthome, he nods.
"To ze best of our knowledge, it is ze only safe place in ze Southern Fangwood."
He then sighs.
"Unfortunately, as Gren says, I don't zink ve have enough time to escort you zere, but ve could probably back-track a day, to get you out of ze really dangerous vestern forest, and send an Animal Messenger to let ze community know to keep an eye out for you. Ve can also share some more provisions viz you, zat you can use to distract/appease 'normal' predators...?"
"Ze ozer option is zat you come viz us to Longshadow, but vill definitely be dangerous..."
"Redburrow is one and a half days north east of here, through the Hollow Hills," The Ulfen man answers. "Here, I'll mark it out for you."He draws, using charcoal a circle on the map.
"Ercu is one and a half days west of Longshadow, but my hometown was invaded by hobgoblins. Last thing I saw, they were turning it into some kind of fortifications."Jarth replies while drawing another circle on the map.
"Could we get them out of the Western forest, then get your wolves to escort them the rest of the way?" Father Noelan suggests. "I don't have the spell Animal Messenger, but if we were sending one, maybe we could send a message to Herge the wood giant to pick them up?"
"I'm worried about that Genghryl though. He's very indiscriminate."Father Noelan muses. "And I had to speak to him in Terran."
"No, we don't want to go to Longshadow, we came from that direction and if as you say the woods are teaming with hobgoblins, a large group like ours would attract more attention," Albert adds. "A cozy settlement and being out of the woods sounds a lot better then a Hobgoblin infested region!"
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Nigel nods.
"Right. Vell, ve can look at Redburrow on ze vay, at any rate. It sounds like getting you out of ze Vestern Fangvood is probably our best bet."
He then looks thoughtful.
"I have a pack of friendly volves, as Fazer Noelan mentioned, zat could probably guide/guard you once you are in ze Souzern/Central Fangvood, as long as zat won't freak you out too much. Also, I should varn you: Our settlement is open to all vho come in peace, and ve count plant-creatures like leshies, a small tribe of (now sveet-smelling) Troglodytes, a Forest Giant named Herge, and even a Hobgoblin called Skinder (who's lycanthropy ve cured) among our number. Zat said, ze majority are human-form individuals, such as yourselves. Tell Jet and Aubrin zat ve sent you."
Nigel then turns to Robert.
"You could send an Animal Messenger, right?"
"Well, I've heard of wolves in the North pulling sleds, but I've yet to hear of them forming an escort. Plausible though."The Ulfen man strokes his beard.
"Aren't troglodytes smelly, savage, cave dwelling, human eating monsters?" One of the refugees with short cropped red hair bursts out.
Jarth furrows his eyebrows. "A Hobgoblin? She's a slave right? Hobgoblins can't be trusted!" Jarth growls angrily.
"What's a forest giant?" One of the refugees, a blond man with short cropped hair asks Nigel.
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Nigel nods.
"Ze Troglodytes were quite smelly vhen ve first encountered zem, but it seems zat vas due to dietary problems - once ve had zem eating good, wholesome food, zey started smelling far more fragrant. Zis lot definitely *don't* eat humans."
He then turns to Jarth.
"I vas not keen on her eizer, vhen I first met her, but it seems she vas being kept as a slave by her kin, because of her lycanthropy, and being abused fairly badly. Ve took her in, and started her out under guard in ze mine, but over time, as she proved herself, she started vorking as an extra assistant to our resident alchemist, and master brewer. I still don't like her, but she has not done anyzing to make me feel zat she is a security risk, and I acknowledge her right to self-determination, as long as it doesn't harm ozers."
Nigel then turns to the blonde man.
"A forest giant is a large humanoid, vho looks a bit mossy, and lives in tune viz ze natural world; zink of him as a super-sized Druid. He has helped retrain some of ze townsfolk, to better survive in zeir new surroundings."
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Nigel then shrugs.
"I am not telling you all of zis, to try and force you to comply viz a cultural paradigm different to your ovn; I am simply trying to make sure zat zere are no surprises for you vhen you arrive at our unique little settlement, and zat you are making an informed decision. If you vish to go zere, I am sure zat you vill be velcomed. However, if you vould prefer to try your luck elsevhere, ve certainly von't try to stop you. Just remember, everyone vho calls Misthome home, has ze same right to safety and happiness, as anyone else zere."
”Ok, so we have a hodgepodge mix of residents in Misthome,” The brunette woman answers, thinking for a while, before coming to a decision.”I can live with that, it’s better then being in the woods and being attacked by monsters.”
”So if a large mossy giant says hi to me, I shouldn’t run away screaming, right?” The blonde man asks Nigel.
”But why would you take her in in the first place? Just execute her and you could spare the trouble of keeping an eye out on her, besides after what all the hobgoblins have done, it’s just deserts, is it not?” Jarth asks Nigel. ”Don’t worry, I’ll help you keep an eye on her.”
”Jarth, don’t be an ass,” the brunette woman scolds him. ”Its not as if we don’t have enough things to do that you need to go around manufacturing more enemies.”
”Besides, you leading us running around in the woods hasn’t gotten us manywheres, has it?” She tells him pointedly. ”A promise of a roof under our heads is more then what we’ve been getting under you so far.”
There is a general rumble of agreement with that statement.
"No, it is right and fair that you tell us what to expect, so that we can make an informed choice. And I will be the first one to thank you for it." Albert answers.
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Nigel nods to the Blonde man.
"Correct. Herge is quite friendly."
He pauses for a moment, as something occurs to him.
"Of course, he may literally appear out of novhere; he has ze Druid's gift in zat regard, so don't be too shocked!"
He then turns to Jarth.
"You didn't see her vhen ve first found her - a snivelling vreck of a humanoid, zat had been cowed by frequent beatings. I vill be ze first to admit zat I vould have gladly put her in ze ground if she had acted up, but she has focused on quietly getting her job done, and trying to stay out of ze vay. I can respect zat."
Nigel then turns to Albert, and smiles.
"In zat case, velcome to ze community!"
Grenwold listens a bit as Nigel communicates with these new folks.
"I don't think I properly introduced myself either, I am Grenwold, and this is Fenton."
"Misthome is by far the safest space in the Fangwood. It is defensible, the people are kind - mostly, and there is ample food. You will be expected to work, and to contribute if you choose to go there, but you will be welcomed. ALL are welcome if they have a gentle soul and a wish to help others." He pointedly stares at Jarth.
"Skinder, the troglodytes, and anyone else you deem 'weird' or strange is to be treated the same as everybody else. They've chosen to put aside their past prejudices and grudges to work together. Maybe it won't last forever, but for now it is a place of peace and forgiveness. Remember that." He even says to Jarth directly, "and you, stay away from Skinder, or I'll hear about it. You aren't required to keep an eye on anyone. And for that matter, you lot are on probation until you prove yourself, just like everyone else. Same rules apply."
"For all we know you could be Molthuni deserters or spies - they're responsible for about half of the messes of Nirmathas, and they're a bunch of humans, right?" He turns to Nigel, "please make sure that Jarth especially should be monitored carefully."
Grenwold pats her hand, "it's okay, just do your best. That's all that matters. Personally, I think we should be guided by our culture and our family, not constrained by it. I would like you to challenge yourself a bit, but not if it is going to cause you pain. I'll be back in a few weeks, I hope to hear all about what you've accomplished."
He pulls Oreld aside and asks to ensure that she doesn't get bullied or harassed, and does the same thing to Jet later. Before he leaves, he spends some time speaking with Ighiz about philosophy.
”You were saying us, but we’d be expected to give names on sight and so what names were we supposed to give?” Jarth asks Nigel.
”But he’s a large giant…how does a large giant hide in the woods, even if he’s covered with moss?” The blonde man says disbelievingly.
”I don’t know. But misery to hobgoblins, after they burnt my hometown down, sounds like something I could get to like. I had a life in Ecru – I was selling mining supplies there. And now my shop is gone, and I don’t know if any of my family made it out!” Jarth complains to Nigel. ”So why shouldn’t we make any hobgoblin we can find pay for what they did?”
”Yeah I don’t have a problem with troglodytes, or other races.” Another bald middle aged man replies with a shrug, ”Again, its your settlement, so it’s your rules, like if you go to Rome, you do as Romans do.”
”But I’m an academic!” A skinny, bookish young man protests, ”I was going to write a book on the History of Nirmathas, and I’ve never done any manual labour in my entire life! In fact all this tromping in the woods was absolutely horrible!”
”Meh, ain’t tough working for a living,” The Ulfen man boasts. ”I used to farm in Red Hollow for a living. And it’s hilly ground, now, so building terraces to farm is work!”
”Nope, I’m no Molthuni deserter, I mean even if I were, why would I be putting myself in some god-forsaken woods infested with hobgoblins?” A harried looking matron drawls laconically.
”Fine,” Jarth says grudgingly, ”I’ll stay away from the hobgoblin. But I bet she’s up to no good!”
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"Say Nigel, Gren, Robert, and Fazer Noelan sent you."
When Jarth complains, Nigel shrugs.
"I have no qualms about annihilating Hobgoblins zat fight back, but vhen you abuse somezing zat doesn't, you become no better zan ze zing you hate... and become a monster yourself."
He smiles wryly.
"Of course, I suppose zat is part of ze reason vhy I have been so happy to tear ze Legion to shreds; most of zem are too stubborn to back down."
When the academic complains, Nigel snorts.
"Vould you prefer to be alive and uncomfortable, or enslaved by Hobgoblins, or worse still, dead? From vhat I understand, ze option zat ve are offering you is ze best one you have. It may not be ze one you vant, but it is ze one zat you have. At least ve are giving you a viable choice... somezing zat you vould not have had if ve had not come by vhen ve did."
His expression grows grim.
"Personally, I vant ze family back zat ze Legion took from me; but I know zat can never happen... at least you have a chance, at some point in ze future, for a different life."
Nigel pauses, and then smiles.
"Have you considered somezing different? How about producing an oral history of ze Ironfang Invasion, and how various groups have managed to survive. Zat could be somezing zat you could vork on, in your spare time..."
When the Ulfen man mentions farming, Nigel nods.
"Talk to Geran vhen you get zere; he is currently heading-up ze human side of ze farming operation, in conjunction viz ze Leshies."
”But you’ll need to become a monster before you’ll stand a chance against monsters like hobgoblins, right?” Jarth insists.
”I don’t want to be in this region and I’d just want to be somewhere safe where I can have my creature comforts,” The skinny, bookish young man whines.”I mean I never wanted to get caught in a warzone, just ran for the woods when my caravan was attacked!”
”Not sure about that. I’m NOT going into the field to do research on various groups…it sounds like dangerous business.” The skinny, bookish young man almost seems to quiver.
”Yeah, I will. We can talk about what crops to grow.” The Ulfen man answers. ”Some plants like asparagus grow well in hills.”
”Yes, I’ll try to come up with something.” Skinder answers.
”Funny isn’t it? Even though my own kin ill-treated me, I’m still thinking in the ways I’ve been trained all my life.” Skinder remarks.
Oreld is very happy to ensure that Skinder won’t get bullied or harassed. He promises that the next person who makes life hard for Skinder gets no drinks at the bar. Jet tells Grenwold that if anyone bullies Skinder, they can go eat their own cooking.
When Grenwold talks to Ighiz about philosophy, she cryptically mentions that the creatures of the deep are moving. Onos has told her so.
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Nigel smirks mirthlessly at Jarth's rather poignant comment, momentarily lost in his own, private joke.
"Not spiritually, at least. If ve lose ze essence of vhat ve are, zen ze Hobgoblins have von, even if ve defeat zem. Zat said, I von't deny zat mutagenic magic has its uses..."
Nigel frowns, before adding quietly to the young man:
"I don't zink any of us vanted to be caught in a varzone; however, ve have to make ze best of it..."
When the Ulfen man mentions cropping, Nigel nods approvingly.
"See? Zat is ze right sort of attitude to have. Ze Legion may have taken zings from each of us, but ve can alvays build somezing new!"
"Don't get it. I mean if I had the power, I would hunt each and every hobgoblin down, for what they've done!" Jarth declares. "How is that wrong or losing the essence of what you are? Isn't it natural to want to make those who've hurt you pay? Isn't that being true to what you are?"
"But I will honour my word of leaving that particular hobgoblin in Misthome alone."Jarth nods at Grenwold.
"I suppose...yeah I guess that's as much that can be done. " The skinny, bookish young man looks forlornly at his feet.
"That being said, we'll probably need to look what kind of soil the hillside is made of," The Ulfen man adds.
To Nigel: "Yes, I have Animal Messenger. Two of them, in fact. I'll use them, if you want them."
Grenwold nods, ”The road of vengeance is a phantom that will lead you over a cliff and disappear underneath you at the worst possible time. Phantoms are insubstantial and steal your soul in the process. The road of justice, because it can be fair, and it has precedent, is solid ground to walk on. It may take longer to get you where you’re going, and you may get lost, but you won’t lose yourself in the process.”
”One of the most paramount virtues that I believe we should aspire to is that of mercy. It may be the most difficult, which makes it all the more right.”
"Well, won't all hobgoblin children grow up to become human killers?" Jarth counters. "So it's better to get rid of them all so they can't bother us ever again!"
"And don't you have to harden your heart and and toughen yourself in order to win a war?" Jarth asks Nigel.
"What is the difference between vengeance and justice in this case? They destroyed my life. It is both vengeance and justice that they pay!"
”There are rules of war. Even the hobgoblins we meet offer quarter before engaging. Anyway, I have no interest in talking to you further, but I do feel sorry for you. May Shelyn forgive you. And don’t touch Skinder or you’ll learn firsthand the true meaning of justice.” Grenwold says as he rolls his eyes at Jarth.
Robert sits in the bush with bird seed, luring a plump grey pigeon to him. He then ties the message to its leg.
The night passes uneventfully with Nigel using the keep watch potion then spitting it back and the party with their large entourage in tow, begin heading back towards the safer regions of the Fangwood.
The party finds themselves passing near a hill and sees that there is a cave in the hill with 3 pale yellow humanoid with blank, bulging white eyes and gangly arms and legs with a pickaxe on their backs and a light crossbow in their hands staring at the party from the caves.
Then one of their number speaks up.
Who goes there?
Robert, Nigel and Grenwold recognise the creatures as pechs.
Untold ages ago, the pechs served forgotten masters in the deepest caverns of the world. In time, their masters moved on, leaving the pechs bereft of guidance. Some sought refuge in seemingly safer tunnels nearer the surface. The unspeakable horrors they encountered there transformed them into derros over the course of several generations. Those pechs that stayed close to their ancestral caverns survive to this day, though in such Small numbers and in such isolation that few of the surface world know of their existence.
Pechs are skilled miners and stonemasons, and are at times employed or enslaved as such by other subterranean races. They have learned to hide the entrances to their lairs most carefully, blending their narrow entranceways into the living rock such that they can only be seen from exactly the right angle. When interlopers do find a pech’s lair, they are met with open arms, friendly advice, and a firm insistence that the pech is to be left alone. The typical pech stands only 3-1/2 feet tall, but its dense flesh gives it a weight of 100 pounds.
They have 5 DR/cold iron, light blindness and can shape stone.
The leader of the pechs rumbles back while waving at Nigel.
"We have no love for hobgoblins ourselves. That's why we made a network of tunnels to travel around Fangwood and also mine for precious gems and metal."
Robert writes:
"Strong Hobgoblin presence on road to Longshadow. Will have to take a longer route. What news from Misthome?"
Anyone else have anything to add?
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Nigel nods.
Robert writes:
"Additionally, we are sending a small group of refugees to Misthome."
The leader of the pechs replies in rumbles.
We'll dig our way there, then. The sun hurts our eyes, so we can't be out in daylight for very long.
The pech leader rumbles at Nigel.
We could have some more surfacer food, and some weapons and armor just in case. We have alchemical products and gemstones for trade.
”Why are you rumbling at the caves?” Albert asks Nigel.
Grenwold waves at the creatures, and says to Nigel, ”Man, I gotta learn Terran. Ask them if they like Fenton. He’s all earthy in addition to being cute. They might find him interesting.”
Hearing Grenwold say something, the Pech leader turns to him, then asks, "Hej, govoriš li malo?"
Hey, do you speak undercommon?
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Nigel nods.
He then turns to Albert.
"I am just talking viz some friendly Fey miners (Pechs, to be specific), who have been trying to keep out of ze vay of ze Hobgoblins. Zey have indicated zat zey might be villing to trade gemstones to us, for ozer stuff."
Nigel nods to Gren, and adds: