Despite the smells that generally come along with the beasts that are housed there, the sight of Serianna’s livery stable is welcome to the small group of tired travellers as they emerge from the Echo Wood. From the southern leg of Dagger Road they enter the boundaries of the town nestled in the trees surrounding Thornkeep - an odd group of sellswords and huntsman with a trader or two in the mix, all ready to end a profitable journey from the southern tip of the forest. They talk lightly and joke as they move up the road at a leisurely pace, enjoying the welcome warm air of a late spring evening.
“I swear to you, they were biggest you’d ever seen!” A young, scruffy man in a leather hunting vest remarks while holding a pair of melon-sized puffballs suggestively against his chest. “And when she brought me to her room she showed me a sacred Kellid dance of fertility..”
His travelling companions laugh as he bounces and sways in an absurd attempt to mimic an exotic dancer until one of the spherical fungi slips from his hand and bounces away in the dirt on the road.
“Sure there, and next you’ll say Lady Ivis is waiting up in your room in the Greenforest Inn.” Replies another man with dark chainmail and a greasy mustache over a crooked grin.
“I would never!” The first replies in mock indignation, “Be stupid enough to say it where one of the Baron’s goons could hear and drag me up for Lord Blackshield to cut out my tongue.” He adds as he retrieves his meal before it is trampled on by a passing rider.
“Besides, I have something much more appetizing than traditional, old Druscor fare waiting for me where I’m going. You should join me, there’s more than enough to go around.”
The other man gives an indistinct grunt in reply, but does follow the first along with at least one more when the group starts to break off in their own separate directions.
“Hey Asha, what about you?” The scruffy man calls after another, wearing a decent robe of spun yarn decorated with a variety of spidery runes who had begun walking a different way.
The man shifts a heavy pack as he stops, the beads in his long braided hair clicking softly as he turns back to wave them off. “Nah, not tonight, I need to get home before I go anywhere else.”
“Bah, you’re no fun!” Is the only response that can be understood as the small group makes their way through the remnants of the market crowd. Asha laughs to himself, holding out hope he will find some time to prove them wrong later.
He carries on to an area with mostly wooden houses, nearer the Brambleclaw goblins than anyone with a bit of coin to their name would generally like to live. The buildings are small and the residents tend to make light hearted jests about living in the most rundown part of this ramshackle fiefdom, but it is still familiar and will always be home. The welcome smell of dinner coming from many directions gives a bit more energy to the young woodsman’s step, and he soon finds himself reaching his family’s homestead.
When it finally comes into view however he is greeted with the unnerving sight of the wooden door hanging from the hinges while three plainly dressed yet very unpleasant looking men are stepping out of the open portal. He stops in the path with his breath nearly caught in his throat while in his mind he begins reciting the invocations that will turn his gemmed walking stick into a deadly weapon.
“What is this?” He manages in a voice that he can only hope is strong enough to command an answer.
The three men keep walking, hands close to daggers on their belts.
“Asha..” A voice from inside the house. A quick glance and Asha can see his mother. If she has been harmed he has not time to tell.
“What’s going on?” Asha demands as he fights against a growing anger, sure somewhere hidden safely under his robes a mysterious arcane mark is now glowing with power. The men are nearly upon him now.
Three men. Three daggers.
“Asha listen to me. Come here.” His mother’s voice is strong, but pleading. Yet without fear.
“Listen to your mother, boy.” The nearest thug says with barely a glance at the smaller man before him, his stride not broken as he advances.
“Collections were a couple days ago, damnit!” Fortunately for Asha, while he does not always know when to keep his mouth shut, he is smart enough to get out of the way of a charging horse.
And with a nimble step he also proves fast enough - narrowly avoiding a savage kick that surely would have left him reeling and vulnerable. He keeps his distance from the menacing trio afterwards and they leave satisfied with having made their point, and their quota. The one carrying the depressingly heavy pouch of coins is careful to let it bounce and jingle loudly as he walks away.
When they are gone Asha turns quickly and is greatly relieved to find that while most of his family are in the homestead, none of them had been harmed in the encounter.
“I think they broke the door because your father threatened to shoot one of them last time they came.” Asha’s mother explains in an almost humorously calm fashion while a group effort ensues to fix the hinges.
“Oh, yup, that’ll do it.” Asha answers back in an equally deadpan manner. “Where is he, just out hunting?”
“Won’t be back for another couple days at least, but says he’ll be bringing some nice meade from Fort Riverwatch.” One of Asha’s younger brothers offers in response. “And he told me to tell you to stop lipping off to those Empyreans, last thing we need is more trouble.”
“What do you mean?” Asha’s mother asks, apparently interested in that new message. Asha does his best to ignore it completely.
“Oh, I got to try some of that Emerald Spirit down in the Emerald Lodge. It really is as good as..” But before he can finish, four loud raps sound at the door - almost forceful enough to knock it right off its new hinges, followed by a loud voice from the other side.
“Collection day.” It booms.
“What the glorious hell!?” Asha exclaims and whips around, his wand already in his hand. Being the closest he is the first to the door and when he throws it open the hulking figure of a pair of hobgoblins looms oppressively over him. The odour of their breath and bodies overpowers the scents of his home and wash over everyone within while the hearth makes their eyes appear to glow with an evil light.
“Collection day, little man. You got a problem?” The one in front sneers contemptuously.
“They just came.” Asha answers defiantly, wand held visible but not quite in a threatening fashion.
“Weren’t us.” Snorts the hobgoblin in the rear. “Ironjaws don’t care ‘bout yer other debts. You sure that’s a man? Looks kinda scrawny.”
“‘be a pixie fer all I care. Collection day. Pay up if yer wanna keep our protection.”
For a brief time things were quiet. The seething rage inside the young man bound to this world for whatever purpose Pharasma has decided must have been plainly visible on his face. The hobgoblins drank it in like fine wine. Such a creature of violence and passion has never been so patient as what they were in this moment.
’I could destroy them…’ Thought the young wizard. ’With my thoughts and will alone I could shatter their fragile minds and sunder the souls from their bodies.’
The Mark of Pharasma burned with a blissful agony under his robes. ‘Even if I lost, I could return a hundred times. A thousand times until I have obliterated every piece of them that ever was and ever will be.’
The hobgoblins stared unblinking, rank with anticipation. One of them fondly slides a finger down the razored edge of ax larger than Asha’s head. A noise from behind..
Asha’s youngest sister coughs, and something falls to the floor, and the young man’s head turns back to the others.. The others who do not bear the mark.. Who would not come back.
‘I can’t protect them all forever…’
Asha lowers his wand, a light that was growing at its tip dims and winks out.
“What the matter, manling?” The second hobgoblin taunts, “Thought you had somethin’ to say?”
“We haven’t got any money today.” Asha’s mother interjects, a hint of nervousness finally breaking through in her voice after a very long, tense afternoon. “Please, come back tom-..”
“Not good enough.” The first hobgoblin cuts her off, hand beginning to move to remove his awful weapon from his belt loop. “Gonna have to show you what happens to people who don’t keep up.”
“Wait.” Asha says, not moving from his spot in the way of the door. Another very brief, uncomfortable moment passes, and then he tosses a small bag at the lead hobgoblin. There is a clink of coin as it bounces off his chest, but the brute does not appear impressed at the size.
“It’s silver.” Asha says, reading the thoughts that are written obviously across the creature’s face. “Just take it and go if you want to be able to enjoy more later.”
It seemed an eternity that they rolled the wizard’s words over in their minds, trying hard to decide whether there was enough of an insult or threat behind them to justify retaliation. Perhaps, just maybe wondering if there was something more to this tiny man with a big mouth, standing before them not quite showing enough fear..
“Five days.” He says and spits at the young man’s feet after he picks up the pouch. With his hand still on his axe the hobgoblin turns and leaves, barking out an order at his companion to follow him.
Nobody in the house says a word for a good while after they are gone, all almost afraid to breathe for fear it may bring them back. It’s Asha’s sister again that finally breaks the silence.
“Where’d you get all that silver?”
“Yeah, where’d that come from?” Another younger brother eagerly asks afterwards, “Have you been raiding the Empyreans? I heard you’ve been raiding the Empyreans!”
“What? Who said that?! I have not been raiding the Empyreans!” Asha responds in a exasperated fashion.
His brother gave him a disappointed look, to which he continues with a mischievous grin. “I’ve been poaching from the Empyreans’ sovereign territory.”
“Their what?” One of Asha’s older brother’s asked with a laugh.
“Oh, their sovereign territory is it, now?” Asha’s mother asks incredulously. “Have they asked the Echo Woods what it thinks of that?”
“I’m sure that’ll last just as long as the last ones who said it.” Jokes another of Asha’s siblings as they all set about to preparing a well earned meal. “I give it less than half the time Mosswater lasted.”
“Here now! You shouldn’t joke of the dead like that..” Scolds Asha’s mother in a well meaning way, and plenty of laughter can be heard from the homestead until all are ready to turn in for the night.
