The Shadows Know!

Friday, February 12, 2016

Shadow is a more than a mere absence of light in Golarion. It's a fundamental force, no weaker than the elemental energies, no less vast than the ethereal or astral planes, and far more common in everyday life than any of those esoteric materials. The Shadow Plane is a physical place, a colorless realm that serves as a dark reflection of the Material Plane, and its existence can mold and shape those within it. The fetchlings who dwell there are the descendants of Azlanti refugees, who over generations have been altered by constant exposure to its planar power until they are no longer truly human. Conversely, the wayang found on the Material Plane have been changed by their lack of access to the Shadow Plane, their pathways between their new lands and their original homes destroyed when the sun returned and the Age of Darkness ended.

Illustration by Anson Tan

The deepest shadow, of course, is total darkness. Such lightless realms may lack the planar power of shadow, but within the darkness other powers over move about unseen and unfettered. It was in the darkness of the Darklands that a group of elves fleeing the destruction of Earthfall became vulnerable to demonic influence, and in time so corrupted themselves and their society that they became something wholly different than elves. The drows' transformation may not have involved direct exposure to the power of a plane, but it remains a testament to the power of the shadowed places.

Illustrations by Tawny Fritzinger and Marjorie Davis

These then—drow, fetchling, and wayang—are the races that receive the most focus of Player Companion: Blood of Shadows. Some examination is given to how the rest of Golarion treats those tied to shadow, with discussion of shadowy origin stories (from benign envoy to umbral operative). The idea of the taint of shadow reaching beyond these races is explored with darkborn and shadowborn alternate racial traits. Then in the sections dedicated to each race, the options players often look at to customize their characters are expanded, with favored class bonuses, alternate racial traits, and sometimes racial feats. Some idea of how these cultures handle core roles differently is revealed with common archetypes that can be traced back to these races (though now generally also available to a few beyond the originator societies), ranging from the shadow-themed rogue talents developed by the fetchlings, to the shadow ink tattoos and shadow mysteries once exclusive to the wayang.

Feast of Rats

Price 45,125 GP

Slot none CL 19th Weight varies

Aura strong evocation and illusion

A swarm of shadowy rats clump together to form this +1 stalking^UE light melee shadowcraft weapon. Three times per day, the wielder can throw the weapon into one square within 10 feet while speaking a command word, causing the weapon to disperse into a shadowy haze that functions as fog cloud. Each round, any creature within the fog cloud takes 1d6 points of damage and must succeed at a DC 19 Fortitude saving throw or become nauseated for 1 round. This effect lasts for 1 minute, after which the weapon returns to its previous form. Alternatively, any time before the effect's duration ends, the wielder can spend a move action while adjacent to the fog cloud to return the weapon to its previous form, dismissing the effect and returning the weapon to her hand.

A feast of rats can be used as an unholy symbol divine focus of Lao Shu Po, the Old Rat Woman.

Construction Requirements

Cost 22,712 GP

Craft Magical Arms and Armor, Create Reliquary Arms and Shields^UM, deeper darkness, fog cloud, major creation, shadow weapon^UM

Other shadow-themed characters are also given support in the form of archetypes, spells, and magic items. Morphing shadowform weapons, which range from humble weapon of solid shadow, to mighty reliquaries often carried by divine champions can be found in Blood of Shadows—including the more powerful weapon above!

Owen K.C. Stephens
Developer

The Price Paid

by Josh Vogt

Chapter Four: Many Paths to Tread

Akina stood rooted, a peculiar chill dousing the embers in her gut. Could it be possible? Could these creatures truly want to handle things in a civilized manner? Ever since leaving for the war, she'd only ever encountered them on the battlefield, knowing full well they sought her death as much as she theirs. What if Ondorum was right? What if these hobgoblins hadn't participated in the fighting and were just victims of circumstances? Could she damn them for the actions of others?

The job would be done either way, so long as the hobgoblins left and didn't bother anyone in the region again. Nothing compromised the mercenary band's reputation, and Akina guessed Nigarl would let her take a few "trophies" as proof to satisfy the locals.

She studied the desolate chapel as all these doubts whirled through her. Then her gaze rested on Ondorum's guileless expression and a cold flame kindled in her marrow.

"Maybe." She kept her voice as flat as possible. "First, I got a question."

Nigarl bowed her head. "Ask."

"Why didn't you tell Ondorum about the barghest earlier?"

The hobgoblin leader blinked. "What?"

Ondorum looked at Akina askance. "I don't understand."

Akina watched the hobgoblin reactions carefully. "Why leave him in the dark about such a nasty critter if you knew it was lurking?"

The monk frowned. "That would have been helpful, yes. We might've been more prepared."

"The beast came and went as it wished," Nigarl said. "We had no idea it'd be around or if it was off on its village hunts again."

"Hunts?" Akina echoed. "The reason Falcon's Hollow finally scrounged up the funds to hire our band was because of the latest raid you all," she swept her maulaxe at the warband, "made against an outlying settlement. Half the place burnt down, at least ten dead. Far more damage than a single barghest could make."

"There's plenty other than us attacking the countryside these days," Nigarl said. "No proof my band did anything."

"No proof it wasn't you," said Akina.

The hobgoblin leader snarled. "This is pointless. We're blamed for every mishap, and now we have an army of mercenaries set on us."

Ondorum showed the warband leader an open palm. "Not an army. Merely a dozen or so." He looked to Akina. "Unless you have reserves waiting at a distance?"

Akina stared back at him. "Anyone ever mention that you talk too much?"

The monk grimaced. "My old masters occasionally noted that flaw in me, yes."

"So they remain above while just the two of you came to visit?" Nigarl shifted her furred cloak, considering. "How... civilized. Will they send down a couple more if you don't return soon enough?"

Akina tightened her grip on the maulaxe. "Why wouldn't we return? After all, you did want to handle this all nice-like, hm?"

Nigarl grinned toothily while her warriors edged closer.

Ondorum glanced between them. "Is this the point where I admit their intentions may not have been entirely peaceable?" he asked Akina.

She nodded, keeping her eyes on Nigarl. "About time."

Nigarl snatched up her dagger and whip and jumped back. "Kill them."

Akina and Ondorum went back-to-back as the hobgoblins attacked. Three charged Akina. She struck out, sending one reeling. Another cut in with twin axes. She caught them across the maulaxe haft and struggled to throw him back. He leaned all his weight in and roared in her face.

Akina bellowed back with all her might. The hobgoblin lurched as if she'd struck him, and she used the slight opening to kick into the side of his knee. The joint snapped and he staggered. A swipe of her axe-edge slashed his stomach wide.

She jumped over the body and closed the gap between the third. He wielded a broad blade and hacked at her wildly while she beat him back. Her breaths came hot and fast, strength fueled by the furnace in her gut that baked her from the inside out, blood and marrow bubbling.

Images blazed through her mind. Ashen skulls. Leering goblins. Dead dwarves staring at a cloudy sky. Settlements reduced to cinders. Each added fuel to the fury until she fought within a storm of raging flame.

The hobgoblin came in with a desperate two-handed strike. She bashed the sword aside and then whirled around to sweep the axe-edge across, cleaving the creature's hands off at the wrists. The hobgoblin stared at his bloody stumps until another blow sent his head rolling.

Fuming, she turned to find another victim to chop into kindling. Across the chamber, Ondorum fended off four hobgoblins at once while Nigarl watched from the side.

The monk shifted among them as he had with her, twisting this way and that to let mortal blows bypass him. Then his feet rooted and he took their blows with open palms and flicks of his elbows, absorbing and deflecting even the most jarring hit.

One hobgoblin tried to stick him in the side. As the blade slid past, Ondorum clamped onto the hobgoblin's wrist and dragged him along. The warrior stumbled and ended up stabbing the fighter on the opposite side. A club whistled at Ondorum's head, and the monk ducked, letting the blow smash into the chest of another opponent.

Nigarl unspooled her whip and lashed out. The thong coiled around Ondorum's waist. When she yanked, barbs tore across his midsection and upset his balance. A hobgoblin cracked a club across his side. Ondorum tried to right himself, but two warriors grabbed his arms and clung tight. One bit into a bicep, while a third aimed a cleaver at his skull.

Akina cleared the distance in a heartbeat, leading the way with her helm. She took the hobgoblin in the side and his chest crumpled beneath her assault. Heaving the dying creature aside, she spun and swept the maulaxe hammer on the nearest hobgoblin's foot, shattering bone.

Ondorum's fist connected with the back of the hobgoblin's head and the snap of her neck resounded through the chamber. The other two turned to flee. Akina struck one down with a backbreaking hammer blow. Ondorum's kick swept the legs out from under the other, and a stomp crushed the creature's neck.

Shrieking curses, Nigarl raced for the hall. Ondorum leaped into her path, ducked a swipe of her dagger, and thrust a palm into her chest. The blow staggered her back halfway across the chamber. As she shook off the daze, Ondorum stepped aside and bowed to Akina, palms pressed together.

"Yours."

Akina grinned fiercely and lumbered toward the surviving hobgoblin. Nigarl snarled and struck. The whip snapped around the maulaxe handle, but Akina let it be yanked from her grip. Nigarl stumbled, not expecting her to relinquish the weapon so easily. In that instant, Akina sprinted over and plowed into the hobgoblin leader. Icy pain lanced through her shoulder as the dagger plunged in.

The hobgoblin screamed as Akina bore her to the ground. Akina grabbed a fistful of her snarled hair and wrenched. Nigarl's scalp tore loose and she thrashed, but Akina planted a punch that bounced the hobgoblin's skull off the floor.

Then again.

Never trust a hobgoblin who says she comes in peace.

And again.

Fists blurred as she turned Nigarl's face into an unrecognizable mash of bone and flesh. She didn't stop until a hand settled on her shoulder. Still caught up in the frenzy, she turned and struck—but her fist impacted only Ondorum's palm, and the force behind the blow flowed away.

Panting, Akina shook her head, trying to gather herself. Her gauntlets dripped gore. Ondorum watched her, looking concerned.

She rose, then reached back and yanked Nigarl's dagger out from her shoulder, ignoring another wrench of pain. She flung the blade aside and forced herself to square up with the monk.

"I'm... you shouldn't have seen... I mean..."

She stumbled as the last fiery wisp of strength burned out, leaving her with bones made of lead and muscles that couldn't have squashed a fly. Ondorum caught her arm and helped her remain standing.

After retrieving her weapon, it took them several hours to find a way back to the surface, doubling-back from dead-end passages and collapsed chambers. When they emerged into the fading sunlight, the ruins appeared empty at first. Then someone shouted, "They're back!" and mercenaries emerged from around the courtyard.

Durgan and the gang gathered around them, clamoring for answers. Akina sat on a stone and let them bandage her shoulder as she spun out the main thread of events. Ondorum accepted a salve for his wounded arm and waist, but deferred further aid, insisting he'd heal soon enough.

Once she caught everyone up, Akina studied the clearing. "Figure we can camp here and head back tomorrow to collect my pay."

"Your pay?" Durgan echoed.

"I did most of the work, after all." She nodded at the monk. "Some goes to him, though."

Ondorum shook his head. "I leave any share to your companions."

She grinned. "Oh, take a little credit, won't you?"

His shoulders drooped and he smiled sadly before bowing and wandering over to a corner of the ruined courtyard. Akina exchanged looks with the band.

"Give us a few minutes, hm?"

She joined Ondorum where he'd taken up a meditative pose along one wall. Laying her maulaxe down, she tried to imitate the posture but couldn't get her stubbier legs to cooperate. Finally she grunted and just sat back against the wall.

"What's gnawing your gristle? We got out alive, didn't we?"

He spoke without opening his eyes. "I'd hoped to resolve the situation more amicably."

She chuckled. "Funny thing. So did I."

He peeked at her sidelong. "You wanted to spare them?"

"Hell no. Glad to see them gone and glad we were the ones who ended them. But you were so committed. I felt bad seeing all that effort defending them go to waste."

"Nothing is ever wasted," he said. "There's always a lesson to be learned."

"That so? What do you figure's the lesson here?"

"That I have much more to learn about the world and the nature of its people than I'd imagined." He sighed. "It is... disheartening at times to think how far I have yet to go."

They fell silent for a while, watching the band prep a rough campsite and gather firewood. Before weariness could sink too deep into her bones, Akina roused herself.

"Fairingot."

Ondorum's crystalline eyebrows rose. "Pardon?"

She tugged her helm off, letting her coil of braided hair fall loose, her trademark platinum streak shooting through the otherwise dusky blonde strands.

"My family name," she said. "It's Fairingot. We hail from Taggoret."

"Fairingot." He tugged at his chin as he eyed her. A smile teased his lips. "Fitting."

She scoffed and waved him off.

"Isn't Taggoret a bit north of here?" he asked.

"Sure. But we're heading south once we collect our bounty."

"You're not returning home, then."

"Not until I'm good and ready to."

"When will that be?"

Akina studied the head of her maulaxe, thumbing a nonexistent blemish. "When people stop paying us for what we're good at. Rumor says there's plenty of work down near Almas." She glanced over. "Figure you could come with us."

Ondorum crossed his arms. His sleeves tugged back, revealing ridges of purple crystals along his forearms.

"Why would you want a fool of a monk as a companion?"

"I don't think you're fool." She shrugged at his dubious look. "Not a total one, at least. But you've got some fine skill. I don't admit to being impressed too often but... I'm impressed. Besides, our band could use someone who doesn't just jump into every mess without considering other ways to clean it up first." She studied him from the corner of her eye, trying to gauge his reaction. "And you could use us in return."

"Use you? How?"

"How long you been traveling alone?"

He clasped hands, considering. "A long while."

"Think that's a good thing, being all by yourself? You may have a ways to go, but you don't have to go it alone. You said it yourself earlier. You're looking to learn from new experiences. Get some new perspectives."

"You're offering yours?"

She waved at the others. "Ours. We're not a bad lot. A little scruffy, sure, but earnest. And if you've got something against coin, I'll just hold your share until you figure out what you want to do with it."

He flexed his jaw as if chewing on the idea.

"Tell you what," she said. "I'll throw in a few tales of my home to sweeten the deal."

"True tales?"

"That'd be for you to figure out."

He grinned, an expression Akina realized she quite liked on his stony face. "Will you teach me any dwarven jokes?"

"Most jokes I know aren't fit for proper company—especially for anyone trying to be all polished and perfect."

"If my sense of humor is lacking, perhaps I can fix its faults by rounding it out."

She clapped him on the arm. "Might be hope for you yet."

"There's always hope." He lifted his chin, voice firming. "No matter how far one wanders, you can find your way again. You just have to follow the right path."

"If it's a simple matter of paths..." She pushed up to her feet and offered a hand. "How about we see where this one leads, hm?"

After the briefest consideration, he clasped her hand in his. "I've a feeling it will take us many interesting places."

Coming Next Week: The further adventures of Radovan and Count Jeggare in a sample chapter of Dave Gross's new novel, Lord of Runes!

Josh Vogt is the author of the Pathfinder Tales novel Forge of Ashes, also starring Akina and Ondorum, as well as the web fiction stories "The Weeping Blade" and "Hunter's Folly." His first creator-owned novel, Enter the Janitor, just released, and his short fiction has been published in such venues as Orson Scott Card's Intergalactic Medicine Show and Shimmer. For more information, see his website at jrvogt.com.

Illustration by Marjorie Davis.

The Price Paid

by Josh Vogt

Chapter Three: Beastly Dealings

The goblin's head morphed into a humanoid skull with a piggish nose and enormous, bat-like ears. Milky eyes fixed on Akina as fangs filled a slavering maw. The beast's body expanded and hunched over, bristling with fur until it resembled an enormous wolf with clawed hands instead of forepaws.

Akina recognized the creature for what it truly was. There'd been enough of them fighting alongside the goblinoid hordes, devouring corpses, acting as scouts or battlebeasts.

"Barghest!" she called to the monk, for whatever good it did with him being trapped.

If he replied, she didn't catch it, for the barghest's yowl resounded through the chamber. It lunged. Akina stepped in to meet it head-on, but the beast vanished in midair.

"Behind you!"

At the monk's shout, Akina spun just in time for a claw to smash across her helmet. Vision blurred, and she went to one knee. The barghest gnashed at her, but she lowered her head and surged up, her iron ram horns slamming into its face. She rose, following through with a hammer blow that caught it under the chin and flipped it backward. She planted a hand and shook off the rattling impact.

"I have it!"

She raised her head. Ondorum had reached through the cage bars and caught the barghest around the chest. It scrabbled at him, but the same bars kept it from doing anything more than snagging his robe. Its attempts to tear his grip away with its claws proved equally futile. Ribs crunched and the beast's cries pitched higher.

It vanished again. Ondorum's bear hug collapsed around empty air. Akina turned a circle, expecting another ambush from behind. But the barghest failed to reappear, and the immediate stink of it faded.

"Stones and bones, where'd it go?" She turned her maulaxe to poise the sharp edge. "Cowardly beast."

"A sorcerous creature?" Ondorum turned in the cage to eye the chamber.

"These things are nasty tricksters," she said. "Some think they're a kind of goblin demon."

"I'd not doubt it." He knelt and pressed palms to the cracked floor.

"What're you doing?"

He closed his eyes, face set in concentration. "Listening for the creature." One eye cracked open to peer up at her. "Haven't you ever tracked enemies through the vibrations of their steps on stone?"

"Of course I have! I'm a gods-damned dwarf, aren't I?" Embarrassed that she hadn't thought of it first, Akina stripped off a gauntlet and knelt to put her hand to the floor, keeping her maulaxe ready.

"You needn't bother." Ondorum stood. "I sense nothing. However, I believe I have a solution to my imprisonment."

"Oh?" Akina pointedly kept her hand on the stone, though in truth she didn't feel anything either.

"I shall attempt to rejoin you as quickly as I can. If you encounter any of the hobgoblins before then, please try to remember our bargain."

"Rejoin me?"

Ondorum raised a hand, palm open, then pounded it down onto the floor, dropping smoothly to put all his weight behind it. The cracks in the stones spread. Then he did it again. And again.

All at once, the floor beneath him crumbled. He caught her eye just as the floor fell away, dropping him into darkness.

Akina gaped for half a second before a scraping echoed up from one of the passages leading deeper into the ruins. A choked snarl made her grin.

Weapon ready, she stalked down the passage, brushing aside draping moss and thick spider webs. The barghest's smell strengthened as she went, reinforced by the click of claws on stone and occasional angry rumblings.

She paced through multiple rooms coated thick with dust, with dark niches and ceilings stretching out of sight. Who had the temple's original builders worshiped? Impossible to tell with so many of the original decorations and icons worn away or defaced.

As she crept into a wider room, a fresh wave of stink made her nose hairs bristle. Close. Very close. In fact, with its disappearing trick, the beast could be right on top of—

A weight slammed into her back. Akina hit the ground as the barghest screeched in her ear. Foul breath gusted over her and claws raked armor. Gripping her maulaxe tightly, she rolled as hard as she could, flinging the creature away.

The barghest gave a vile smile as it recovered and leapt at her. She cocked the maulaxe, but it reached out with foreclaws and grabbed the handle to stall the blow. It tried to wrench the weapon away even as it snapped fangs at her face. Akina wrestled the beast back a few steps, its fiendish strength nearly a match for hers.

Nearly.

Barghests may be worshipped by goblins, but they're far from benevolent masters.

Keeping one hand on the haft, she punched out with the other. Her fist connected with the barghest's barrel chest, right where Ondorum had crushed it earlier. Yet where the oread's fists had bruised and battered, the iron edge of her gauntlet just thumped against the creature's flesh and stopped, as ineffective as if she'd punched packed earth.

The barghest snarled and tried to yank the maulaxe away again.

Akina bared teeth in return. "Mine."

She let herself be pulled closer, then grabbed the shaft with both hands, jumped, and planted her feet on the barghest's chest. She kicked off, shoving the barghest away while keeping the maulaxe tight against her chest. Her back struck the stones, and she rolled upright just as the beast lunged in. She dodged and whipped the maulaxe out so the hammer side slammed into the barghest's ribs with a satisfying crackle.

Howling, the barghest fell. Akina leapt over its kicking paws and brought the axe edge down. The beast's writhing threw off her aim, and its unnaturally tough hide turned the blow so that instead of severing an arm, the blade simply gouged a shoulder.

Black blood spurted from the wound. The barghest arched hard enough to throw her off and scrambled free. One moment it stood just within reach. The next, it disappeared and popped back into being across the room, glaring at her from near a dark doorway.

"You are an annoying snack." Baring its teeth, the barghest floated off the floor a few inches, favoring its wounded side. Akina considered this new trick. Must've been how the creature ambushed her from above.

It started to move toward the passage. She hurried after, but knew she wouldn't reach it before it did its vanishing trick again.

The instant it crossed the threshold, however, a pair of clasped fists smashed down atop its skull.

Ondorum stepped into view, dustier than before but little worse for wear. The barghest yowled and scrabbled up at him. The monk evaded the snapping maw with a shift of his weight. A kick swept the beast's leg out from under it, and as it stumbled, Ondorum came down with an elbow that struck its spine with cracking force.

The barghest collapsed. Akina halted her charge to watch as Ondorum laid into the creature. He responded to its wild gnashing and slashes with precise palm strikes and kicks, until the beast's attacks began to slow.

At last, the barghest's twitching paws stilled. Ondorum watched it, fists cocked at odd angles, waiting to ensure it remained down. Then he glanced Akina's way and straightened, tucking arms into opposing sleeves.

Akina scowled. "Damn you to Hell. That was mine."

He eyed the mangled corpse. "If it's any consolation, I left the ears on so you could yank them off."

She stared at him until he smiled.

"That was a joke."

"And a piss-poor one! Don't you know better than to snitch another's kill?"

He appeared puzzled. "The beast won't hurt anyone again. Does it truly matter which one of us ended its life?"

"When you're a mercenary, it does. With Durgan, the more you kill, the bigger your share. Doesn't matter if you wound a creature. If you don't drop it, it isn't yours to claim."

"An interesting approach. I can see how it might motivate greater effort in battle."

Akina plodded over to study the barghest closer, but couldn't see anything worth carving off as a trophy. "Figure this at least makes you think twice about showing the hobgoblins any mercy."

Ondorum tilted his head. "Should it?"

"They obviously sent this beast ahead to take us out. Bet they didn't even let you know it was skulking around, hm?"

He frowned. "They failed to mention its presence, true."

His expression troubled, he headed deeper into the ruins without further argument. Akina followed, hoping she might finally be getting through to him. They worked through decrepit chambers, edged past pits, and left nothing in their wake but darkness.

Finally, as they moved down a long hall, Ondorum paused and pointed ahead. Beyond a spacious archway, shadows flickered from unseen flames and guttural voices reverberated in the distance.

"Right," she said. "We go in quiet, see what their layout is and—"

Ondorum tucked his shoulders back. "Hail, Skurl! We come to meet your leader. Will you honor our agreement?"

Akina closed her eyes briefly, biting her tongue to keep from unleashing a few choice curses. Hobgoblin voices rose in an argumentative flurry before another slashed through the air and quieted the rest. After a long minute, several hobgoblins strode into view. They wore ragged furs, leather scraps, and bits of battered armor. Each held axes or swords, and one with longer-than-average tusks had filed them to deadly points.

They stopped just out of reach. The foremost, a male with scarred splotches across his skin, squinted at Ondorum before his scrutiny shifted to Akina.

"So you're one of the mercs they sent to kill us?" he rasped. "I've fought tree stumps that were more dangerous."

Akina tensed, but Ondorum stepped between them.

"Hold." He nodded to the speaker. "Skurl."

The hobgoblin's lips peeled back. "Monk. Why bring another with you? This wasn't what we agreed."

"She indeed represents the mercenaries hired to eliminate your band. However," he raised his voice over the hobgoblins' growls, "she has agreed to meet with your leader to see if a peaceable resolution can be reached, as we discussed."

It took most of Akina's self-control to not attack then and there. She reminded herself that if she killed these right off, it'd give their leader a chance to flee.

At last, Skurl gestured with a blade. "Come."

The hobgoblins retreated into their lair. Akina turned to Ondorum, unable to believe that the creatures expected them to just blindly follow. Yet the monk strode forward through the arch, head erect, shoulders square.

She stared at his back, tempted to let him reap the consequences of his naiveté. Yet a part of her grudgingly admired his fearlessness and confidence. After a moment, she sighed. Let no one claim she ever left another to face enemies alone.

"Crack and shatter me for a fool," she muttered, hustling after.

In the room beyond, the hobgoblin camp looked like an underground chapel with arched ceilings, rows of broken stone benches, and a dais at the end of the main row. The place was littered with refuse piles, guttering fire pits, and bundles of gear tucked into the corners—stolen, Akina assumed.

Five more hobgoblins waited beyond the first three. As Akina and Ondorum entered, she checked to ensure the beasts remained off to the sides, not blocking the exit. All had the glowering look of warriors sullen from a lack of violence, and their armor appeared cobbled together from random salvage. One particular hobgoblin, a female, stood in the center of the room. Taller than most, she held the bearing of one used to command.

Once the pair stopped, the leader shuffled forward, bowlegged and wary. Clad in black armor and swathed in sable bear fur, she carried a long dagger in one hand and a barbed whip in the other. Her tusks had been capped in silver, and copper rings pierced her ears, nose, eyebrows, and forehead.

"I am Nigarl," she said, voice somehow grinding and gurgling at the same time. "From the noise you caused above, I'm guessing you finally put down the barghest. Thank you."

Akina's eyebrows rose. "You're thanking me?"

"That troublesome beast has hounded us for months, demanding we provide meals and tormenting us when we refuse. We thought we'd shaken it when we came north, but then caught it snuffling around here, thieving, pouncing on us from the dark. I lost two good fighters to its claws, and another to the traps it sets. I've heard it's also been attacking settlements in the area and leaving us to take the blame." She eyed Akina meaningfully. "I hope this monk has made it clear we just want to be left alone."

Akina gnawed a lip. "You really want to do this peacefully?"

Nigarl crouched and laid her dagger and whip on the floor between them. Straightening as much as her round-shouldered figure allowed, she showed empty palms.

"Will you give us that chance? Will you let this be settled without more death?"

Coming Next Week: Monstrous negotiations in the final chapter of Josh Vogt's "The Price Paid"!

Josh Vogt is the author of the Pathfinder Tales novel Forge of Ashes, also starring Akina and Ondorum, as well as the web fiction stories "The Weeping Blade" and "Hunter's Folly." His first creator-owned novel, Enter the Janitor, just released, and his short fiction has been published in such venues as Orson Scott Card's Intergalactic Medicine Show and Shimmer. For more information, see his website at jrvogt.com.

Illustration by Marjorie Davis.

The Price Paid

by Josh Vogt

Chapter Two: Shaken Foundations

Akina trailed Ondorum across the main threshold, which he said the hobgoblins had been using to come and go. The air turned chilly and musty, with an underlying reek that flared the embers in Akina's gut—a fetid mix of blood, grease, dung, and rotting meat unique to hobgoblins. It conjured up too-fresh memories of their hideous warcries and how they'd clamber over the corpses of allies and foes alike to slaughter all in their path.

Once they left the sunlight behind, all color washed away into shades of gray. Ondorum navigated the darkness without stumbling, so she figured he could see as well as her or had some monkish sensitivity that guided him. At least he wouldn't be a liability that way.

The initial hall ended in what once might've been a large meeting chamber. Portions of the ceiling had collapsed, blocking off stretches with earth-packed debris. Side halls and chambers offered themselves on either side, while cracked columns stood in rows. A few sections of the floor had broken, gaping holes hinting at lower levels.

Akina kept a steady watch as they advanced, eager for the beasts to attack and end any pretense at peace. Sure, there was the gold to be gotten by laying them low, but this job went deeper than that for her. Since the war ended, surviving hobgoblins and their ilk had scattered to every pit they could crawl into. It was time to claim vengeance for those who'd fallen before their hordes. So many friends to remember. So many faces locked in death masks, covered in blood or ravaged beyond recognition.

"You never told me your name."

"Hm?" She roused from her morbid recollections. "Oh. Akina."

Ondorum skirted rubble. "Just that? I thought dwarves identified with their families or clans."

"We're working together to scatter a few beasts, not compare bloodlines."

"They're not mindless beasts, you know."

She snorted. "True. They're worse. They're savages just smart enough to be deadly, and there's only one way to deal with savages. Where are they, anyway? I thought you arranged a meeting."

Ondorum surveyed the chamber with a frown. "I believe your arrival spooked them. No doubt they've retreated a bit. Hopefully we can contact them and explain the misunderstanding."

"Misunderstanding? Funny way to describe raids and butchery."

"These claim they took no part in the war."

"You believe them?"

"Until there's evidence to the contrary, I try to give others the benefit of the doubt."

"How are you even still alive? You're either really lucky or—" Akina hesitated. Had that been a faint chuckle just then? A pebble clattering? She inspected the dismal chamber.

"Come out," she said. "No point in hiding."

A wheedling voice trickled over. "I hides so you not kill me."

"We won't kill you," Ondorum said. "There's nothing to be afraid of."

Akina barely sealed a Says you behind her lips.

A creature even shorter than her hopped into view from behind a pile of rocks and stood just on the other side of a set of columns. Its melon-shaped head wobbled on a spindly neck while its grin revealed dozens of needle-sharp teeth. Filthy rags draped a scrawny body.

"Hello!" it said. "Are you my dinner?"

"Goblin." Akina hunched, gripping her maulaxe in both hands. "Keep an eye out."

Ondorum glanced her way. "You fear this creature?"

"Not afraid of anything," she said. "But I'm not stupid, either. Goblins are like roaches. Where there's one, there's a hundred waiting to stick you from behind."

"Roaches!" The goblin picked up several stones and juggled them, the columns framing its display. "Loves me crunchy roaches. So tasty." It giggled. "But it just me. Me and the biggies. But the biggies no share their food and I—" The goblin's voice lowered several octaves, grating across Akina's ears.

"I am quite famished."

It flung the stones at them with surprising speed. Ondorum snagged two from midair while the third pinged off Akina's helm.

"Something's wrong here." Akina growled and stepped forward. "I'll fill your gut with—"

Pressure against her shin made her freeze, but too late. A near-invisible cord stretched across the way. Even as she backpedaled, a rumbling noise shook the chamber and the cord went slack.

Mouth wide in shrieking laughter, the goblin cartwheeled aside as the two columns crumbled and fell toward Akina and Ondorum.

They dove in opposite directions, and the crash rattled Akina's bones. She raised her head to see the toppled columns had set off a chain reaction throughout the chamber. Sections of the floor dropped away into pits. The ceiling sagged as more columns collapsed, and fresh dirt sifted down through gaps where walls had collapsed.

She looked up just as a slab as big as she was dropped from above. Akina raised an arm in pointless defense.

Ondorum appeared, standing over her with palms toward the ceiling. The slab slammed into his upraised hands and he held it aloft, teeth gritted with effort.

"Showoff," she muttered.

With a grunt, he heaved the stone away. She ignored his proffered hand and grabbed her maulaxe, using it to brace herself back to her feet. Ondorum placed a hand on her shoulder and she almost knocked it away until he pointed out wider cracks spreading through the chamber ceiling. Whatever trap the goblin had laid, it'd been thorough.

"We should make haste," he said.

"Yeah. Let's do that."

He dashed ahead while she clomped after. Rocks clattered off her helm and pauldrons, and she knocked away others. Ondorum stayed just ahead, weaving through the falling rubble. It almost looked like he knew just where the stones would fall and shifted half a second before or half a step far enough to let them plummet past.

He aimed for a wide hall at the far end of the chamber, Akina grumbled as she tried to keep up. Clumps of earth pounded into the floor, plenty enough to bury her if a collapse happened right on her head.

"Hello!" The goblin screeched as it appeared a few feet away, popping into being from nowhere to wave a claw. "Goodbye!" It snapped out a round object at her face.

Thinking it another rock, Akina raised her maulaxe to knock it aside. At the last second, she realized it glinted like glass rather than stone.

The flask shattered against her weapon. Akina stumbled back, barely closing her eyes in time as the cloud of flame enveloped her. She struck a wall and hit the floor, maulaxe tumbling from her hands. Lurching upright, she slapped herself all over to smother the droplets of liquid fire that had splattered her armor and burned like white-hot sparks on her exposed face.

She opened her eyes, stinging from the foul smoke. Flames lit the chamber in sickly yellow. She scrambled to her feet and snatched up her maulaxe, ready to bash the goblin's head in. At last, she spotted the creature grinning at her from the opposite side of a growing crack in the floor that rent the chamber in two. When she blinked grit from her eyes, the creature seemed to puff away into thin air.

As stones tumbled into the widening gap, Akina turned and threw herself through the hall's archway, where Ondorum had already taken refuge. He caught her arm so she didn't tumble down the flight of stairs beyond. A final clatter and crash announced rock and dirt blocking the way they'd come.

Once the dust cleared, Akina eyed the hall at the bottom of the stairs, little more than a tunnel cutting down into the earth. She assumed more temple ruins waited within the hillside.

Not all goblins are as weak as they appear.

She hacked against the acrid fumes lingering in the air. After clearing her throat, she cupped hands around her mouth and shouted down.

"That's it! I'm mashing every last one of you mongrels to pulp. Hear me? I'm wiping out the whole lot of you!"

Ondorum winced as the echoes faded. "We agreed to try the diplomatic approach first."

"Sorry. I forgot." Turning back to the tunnel, she hollered again. "I'll be sure to wipe you out diplomatically!" She raised a hand to the monk. "Better?"

He sighed. "You hold much anger."

"Nearly getting buried alive brings it out in me. Forget your parley. That little attempt on our lives should prove these creatures don't have a smidge of honor."

"Perhaps it's our role to show them a better way," he said. "Even if others refuse to live with integrity and honor and mercy, we should still strive for such. Otherwise we risk losing touch with our true selves. Our higher selves."

Akina leveled a flat look. "Higher selves? Was that a short joke?"

His eyes widened. "I meant no offense. I simply—"

She huffed. "What'd I say about having a sense of humor?" She lead the way down the stairs. "Besides, it costs too much."

"Humor?"

"Mercy."

"What does mercy cost?"

"Focus. The advantage in a fight. Lives."

"Some prices are worth paying."

"Not this one." She blew dust from her nostrils. "Sounds like you've already forgotten that I've fought more of their kind than I can count. I've seen how they really are. Every single one I killed would've returned the favor if I'd shown them so much as a speck of mercy."

"I haven't forgotten," he said. "I simply feel it's rash to judge any species as a whole by one representative, or judge any individual on the actions of others. Would you have me judge all dwarves by your example?"

She groaned. "Would you please stop?"

His brow furrowed. "Stop what?"

"Talking. It's annoying."

They emerged into a smaller, rounded room with old cracks spearing every which way through the stone floor. Several passages fed away from it, and Akina studied them while trying to shrug off Ondorum's words. Her, acting like a dwarven representative? Ridiculous. Hard enough to just be her old self, these days. Hopefully she could keep a cap on the bloodthirsty fury that kept flaring through her veins, rather than losing herself to it again. She wanted clarity when she ended the hobgoblins—cold satisfaction as she killed each one. Not like during the war. Especially not in front of this infuriating monk who clearly thought himself the lone voice of reason in a world gone mad.

"You losties?"

A goblin peeped out from the passage on the far right. The same one, as far as she could tell. How had it gotten down there?

"You little slimespit." She shook her maulaxe. "Get over here. I got a really funny joke to tell you."

"No thanks!" Without moving, the goblin vanished.

Akina stared. Since when could goblins turn invisible? She rushed for the spot where it had just crouched, determined to corner it before it could pull other tricks.

"Wait," Ondorum cried. "I don't think—"

A loud clang halted her. She glanced behind. A circular cage had dropped from a hidden slot in the ceiling. Ondorum stood encased, looking abashed.

"That was unexpected."

He tested the bronze bars. Nothing budged. Akina went over and gave it a few good whacks, sending gongs through the chamber, but the bottom had somehow glued itself to the stone floor. Ondorum gripped the base and tried to heft the whole thing, giving up after several straining attempts that didn't so much as shift a pebble. The cracks in the floor had fractured further under the impact, but otherwise the trap appeared immovable.

Breathing hard, he sat in the center of the cage, legs folded, hands propped on his knees. "I will meditate on this dilemma. There's always a solution."

"You do that," she said. "I'll go find our little friend and have a nice chat."

"We's friends?"

She whirled to find the goblin standing just down the hall it had appeared in before. Akina tensed for it to attack with a dozen of its vile friends, but it just stared at her.

"Run out of tricks, have you? Right. I'm smearing you so thin you'll—"

Her nostrils flared, picking up the creature's stench. She'd had goblin stink rammed up her nose often enough she could pick it out of the smelliest crowd or most chaotic battlefield. A scratchy scent of urine and sour sap.

This creature emanated a muskier odor. Beyond that, its shadow looked wrong. It formed a broad pool of darkness, giving the appearance of a hunched animal readying to spring rather than a stick-limbed goblin. Now that she thought of it, how did it cast a shadow in the lightless space?

The goblin's grin went impossibly wide, even for its huge mouth. The deeper, more eloquent voice vibrated out again.

"Join me for a meal, won't you?"

Its body rippled and swelled, blocking the passage with fur and fangs.

Coming Next Week: Unwelcome guests in chapter three of Josh Vogt's "The Price Paid"!

Josh Vogt is the author of the Pathfinder Tales novel Forge of Ashes, also starring Akina and Ondorum, as well as the web fiction stories "The Weeping Blade" and "Hunter's Folly." His first creator-owned novel, Enter the Janitor, just released, and his short fiction has been published in such venues as Orson Scott Card's Intergalactic Medicine Show and Shimmer. For more information, see his website at jrvogt.com.

Illustration by Marjorie Davis.

The Price Paid

by Josh Vogt

Chapter One: A Meeting in Ruins

"There!" Akina thrust her maulaxe out, pointing to the craggy ruins on the hillside. "Told you I smelled hobgoblin stink. We'll have our pay by morning."

Durgan sniffed the crisp air as they emerged from the woods. "Dunno how you do it, Kina. I can't smell a thing beyond all this pine."

One of the other mercenaries, a shaggy-haired human with a notched lip, belted a coarse laugh. "I betcha it's 'cause dwarves got such big sniffers, y'know?"

His mirth died off as Akina turned and glared at him from under the brim of her iron helm, which had been fashioned in the shape of a ram's head with curling horns. The rest of the band stepped ever so slightly away from the would-be-jester. Their number included a dozen human men and women, a half-elven swordsman, and a gnome whose crimson hair flared up like the flames he often conjured. Most, like Akina, wore mismatched leather and iron armor while carrying assorted blades, hammers, shields, and bows. Not the prettiest lot to wander the land, but Akina cared more for getting the job done well than in style.

She tapped the side of her nose. "Be glad I'm distracted by the killing that's coming. Otherwise I might've taken that personally." She returned to eyeing the ruins. "Right. Let's figure our approach."

Durgen scowled. "You leading this band or me?"

"You make all the contracts and collect all the pay. That's a heavy burden to bear. I'm just trying to lighten your load." She grinned. "If we work in slow, we can hopefully take down any scouts before they raise an alarm. So long as we—"

"There's one!" A man jumped forward, crossbow raised, and loosed a bolt.

Akina cursed as a hobgoblin darted through the shadows of teetering columns. The bolt clacked off stone, wide afield. Clad in jagged armor, the hobgoblin loped along on muscled legs and ducked into a walled courtyard.

She growled at the archer. "Shattered stones, Gherb! What've I told you about being so jumpy? Bastard wasn't even in range. You want to lose your share?"

Ignoring his muttered apologies, she tromped ahead, the band falling in alongside. On the surface, the ruins appeared as a jumble of worked stone with toppled pillars, sagging arches, and overgrown paths. Gray-green moss slicked many surfaces, while shrubs and a few trees poked up through the mess. A number of weathered carvings peeked out from the few walls that remained standing; some looked recently defaced, likely when the hobgoblins moved in.

They reached the spot the hobgoblin had bolted from. Akina scanned the area, noting a few crude barricades of spiked branches and piles of gnawed bones. A couple of dark thresholds at the far side of the courtyard suggested entrances to deeper levels.

"Figure they've dug in," she said. "We should scout around, see if there's a back door or two they might scuttle out of."

"There isn't. I've already checked."

The mercenaries rounded on the source of the voice, but nobody appeared. Several worn statues of robed figures sat on nearby pedestals, backs to the group.

"Magic?" Durgan nodded to the gnome. "Piquwit, can you sense anything?"

"No magic," said the same voice. "Merely myself."

One of the statues rose and faced them. Not a statue, Akina realized, but a man in a dusty robe that blended with the rest of the rubble. He'd been sitting so still, he might as well have been made of stone.

Ondorum is as stubborn as the stone he resembles.

When he lowered his hood, though, she corrected herself on both points. Not a man... and maybe he was made of stone. His gray skin had a rough texture, while his hair hung a few shades darker, looking like rows of chiseled granite. Odder yet, where most folk had eyebrows, rows of purple crystals glinted in the sunlight above malachite-green eyes.

"Who're you?" She squinted. "What are you?"

"He's one o' those that's got a bit of mud in their blood," Durgan said. "Whaddya call them?" He clicked his tongue. "Oreads. Yeah. A touch of the earthy elements somewhere down the line."

Earthy elements? Akina reconsidered the strange person. He did have a solid bearing, and she had to look hard to catch a hint of him breathing under the robe. Her mind jumped to assessing potential weaknesses. Did he bleed like other fleshy folks? Would the axe edge of her weapon work best if he proved a threat, or would it be better to go at it with the hammer side? Would he pound down to dust?

He smiled and bowed. "I am Ondorum. Apologies for interrupting, but I didn't wish for you to proceed without knowing the full situation."

"Uh... thanks?" She shook away the violent thoughts. "What situation?"

Ondorum pointed at the inner ruins. "A small hobgoblin warband has claimed this place as their hideout."

"We know," Akina said. "That's why we're here."

His flinty gaze roved over the band. "Ah. You are sell-swords."

She bumped one shoulder up, indicating the maulaxe propped over it. "Swords... bows... clubs... axes... We don't like to limit ourselves."

"I'd request restraint in this instance." Ondorum nodded to where clawed footprints disturbed the earth. "I was speaking with their second-in-command. He calls himself Skurl."

"And I call him fair game. You talked to that beast?"

Fine lines cracked his placid expression. "They're just trying to survive. They've been amenable to civilized discussions so far." He looked aside. "Though I did have to rebuff several attacks before they allowed for negotiations."

"You're trying to make peace with hobgoblins? What are you, some kind of priest?" Aside from her brother's service as a cleric back in Taggoret, Akina held little patience for priests. They always viewed the world from such skewed perspectives, trying to make people conform to their gods' ideals.

"I come from a monastic order that follows the enlightened teachings of Irori." He pressed open palms together. "While I left my temple under unfortunate circumstances, I continue to pursue perfection in all things, traveling in search of new experiences and deeper wisdom. This seemed a good opportunity to offer these troubled creatures the chance to follow a higher path."

She ratcheted her initial estimation of him from potential threat down to naive fool. "Don't you know we just got out of a war with hobgoblins and their kind? They slaughtered thousands!" She ground her teeth as a long list of the dead squirmed through her mind. "This lot's been raiding around Falcon's Hollow for months."

He folded arms across his broad chest. "Of course I'm aware of the battling. But these claim they held no part in it. And, as you said, the goblinoid armies have been routed. Isn't post-war the perfect time to attempt more peaceful solutions?"

She stared. "You're one of those mad monks, aren't you? Look, go back to staring at your bellybutton, if you've got one, and let us do our job, hm?"

She moved to lead the band into the ruins, but stopped when he planted himself in her way.

"I insist you reconsider."

This time, Akina let the fury simmer in her stomach, an enlivening heat. "Move or I'll make you."

Durgan coughed. "I'd back off while y' got the chance, monk. She don't give warnings too often."

The slightest grin tweaked Ondorum's lips. "Consider your warning appreciated but unnecessary."

"Right." Akina hefted her maulaxe and charged.

At the last second, the oread swiveled on a heel. She bulled by, checked her rush, and tried for a backhand swing. He shifted so it swept past less than an inch from his robe. A few hoots went up from the mercenaries at the near miss.

Growling, Akina let the heat at her core churn like boiling water. She sped up, not bothering to arrest her swings. He continued to dance around her, feet sweeping patterns in the dirt, nimbly dodging, bending and swaying just so. With every whiff of her weapon, Akina's hits went a little wilder, the flames inside her blazed brighter, singing her bones.

She raised the maulaxe over her head. "Hold. Still!"

As she brought it down, he went motionless. The maulaxe slammed into the earth right between his feet. He stepped on the head, planted a hand atop her helm, and used the brace to flip over and behind her.

Akina released her maulaxe and spun, fist lashing out to drive into his gut. He blocked the strike with an open palm. The force of the impact knocked her back a step, as if she'd punched a granite statue. He didn't so much as quiver.

The recoil stunned her just enough that the rising flames inside her snuffed back to embers. Akina shuddered, realizing how close she'd been to losing control. She focused on sucking cool air into her lungs, forcing her bloodlust back down before it overwhelmed her—as it so often did these days. She avoided glancing at her companions, knowing even the slightest smirk or snigger would send her barreling back into the fight.

Instead, she retrieved her maulaxe and leaned on it, casual-like, as if his showing her up meant nothing.

"Listen," she said through a forced smile, "you ever try making peace with other monsters before?"

Ondorum nodded. "I've done so with a pair of trolls that were assaulting caravans and also with a band of orcs attacking a monastery."

"Yeah? How'd that go?"

"They had to be destroyed in both instances. With the trolls, I was able to keep collateral damage to a minimum." His posture drooped slightly, like a mountainside threatening an avalanche. "The orcs, however, killed many and destroyed much before they were eliminated."

Akina studied the monk closer, sensing more to that confrontation than the monk wished to reveal.

Ondorum seemed to notice her attention and firmed up. "They were dealt with. No longer a threat."

The mercenaries murmured among themselves.

Akina cleared her throat. "If you aren't lying about all that, how about getting paid good coin to put that skill to use here? Could give you a share in the work."

"I live simply," he said. "Never needed much coin. The people I've saved have often been willing to donate food and shelter until I moved on."

"But you care about saving people, right? And sounds like every time you've tried to do that with just words, it's all gone to hell."

His lips turned down at the edges. "I admit I've succumbed to discouragement at times. That is one of my numerous flaws. This land is a violent one, and many do not respect anything but force. Yet the path to perfection is never without its stumbles." Ondorum mused in silence for a few moments. "Were you hired to kill the hobgoblins, or simply to ensure they don't attack Falcon's Hollow and its lumber camps any longer?"

Akina raised an eyebrow Durgan's way.

The mercenary captain shrugged. "Technically? The second one. Killing's just always been the easiest way for us to see it done."

Ondorum fixed back on Akina. "A bargain, then. Skurl had just delivered word that their leader would meet me within the ruins and discuss terms of a peaceful withdrawal. If you join me, they may recognize leaving without further violence is their best choice. You can complete your contract without having to shed any blood."

"You're kidding," Akina said.

"I'm quite serious."

"Hang on," Durgan said, stepping in. "You want me to just let one of my folks wander in with you? You'll be outnumbered and cut off if they come from behind."

Ondorum glanced at the mercenary leader. "You believe she cannot handle the challenge? Very well. I swear I will keep her safe."

Durgan spluttered as Akina made fists.

"I can handle myself," she said.

"I'd rather send a few extra folks down with you two," said Durgan, regaining his composure. "Just in case."

"If you give a show of force," Ondorum said, "the hobgoblins would likely respond in kind. I fear bringing even one extra might disrupt the accord I've made."

"You're going in anyways," Akina said. "Whatever we do, you're still planning to just... talk."

He bowed.

She pressed a fist to her forehead. "Unbelievable." She glowered at nothing in particular for another moment, then huffed. "Fine. We'll try it your way first. I'll watch your back so long as you watch mine."

The monk bobbed his head as if this had been a foregone conclusion.

"Why not?" Durgan asked acidly. "What's the worst that can happen?"

Akina scowled. "Never ask that." She waved toward the ruins. "Lead on, oh perfect one."

"Perfection remains far outside my grasp," Ondorum said. "It's often a lifelong pursuit."

She sighed. "Priests and monks. None of you ever have a sense of humor."

"Humor, eh?" Durgan snorted. "Your idea of a joke is yanking the ears off a goblin and making him choke to death on 'em."

She blinked up at him. "What's your point?"

Ondorum bowed, then began striding for the ruined courtyard. As he headed off, Akina and Durgan exchanged a knowing look. Wouldn't be the first time they'd used the ruse of peace talks. The monk's parley effort would let her get to the hobgoblin leader, split his skull, and rout the rest straight into the hands of the waiting mercenaries.

They'd be swapping blood for gold soon enough.

Coming Next Week: A delve into ancient ruins in the second chapter in Josh Vogt's "The Price Paid"!

Josh Vogt is the author of the Pathfinder Tales novel Forge of Ashes, also starring Akina and Ondorum, as well as the web fiction stories "The Weeping Blade" and "Hunter's Folly." His first creator-owned novel, Enter the Janitor, just released, and his short fiction has been published in such venues as Orson Scott Card's Intergalactic Medicine Show and Shimmer. For more information, see his website at jrvogt.com.

Illustration by Marjorie Davis.