el-remmen
Moderator Emeritus
Session #6 (part II)
Meanwhile, their scout was doing his own thing. . .
Ratchis waited for the sun to go down and then crawled through the tall grass. He was convinced there was something strange about this fort. It was well maintained and yet seemed poorly guarded; it just did not add up to the woodsman. He stared at the wooden walls for what seemed like an hour. He finally decided to move forward out of his hidden position to get a closer look. Ratchis figured if his intuition was incorrect he could lead the goblins away from where his companions waited.
Finally, he moved out into the open and quickly crossed the ground between the brush and the fort. He attempted to peer between the logs of the fort but could not, the spaces between logs being filled with what Ratchis guessed was tree sap. The inability to look out between the logs of the fort as well as the absence of a watch-tower only further fed the woodsman’s speculation that this was no ordinary military fort. With no other way to see inside, Ratchis climbed up the corner wall he came to and peered inside. From this angle he saw goblins camping out among carefully plotted gardens. There were crates and barrels against the inner wall and a low building occupying about half of the space inside the fort. Ratchis climbed down and crept to the next corner of the fort, this one at its rear where the ground was rockier and began to rise into hills. When he observed this end, he saw little of interest besides more goblins moving about, bows in hand. However, he could hear one loud high-pitched goblin voice conversing with another that was deeper and had a strange accent to it.
At the third corner of the fort, Ratchis observed a strange scene. Two goblins chattered to each other in their guttural tongue, near a small shack. One pointed to the shack and their voices grew louder and sharper. The goblin closest to the shack opened the door and entered, the scent of the place revealing it to be an outhouse.
This side of the fort sat in mud near the river. Ratchis came to the fourth corner and climbed the wall. When peered over, the chatter of goblins became high-pitched and alarmed, as arrows began to bite into the fort wall near Ratchis. He waited a long moment to see if their reaction would reveal anything else about what the woodsman knew was not a normal circumstance, but only more arrows answered his mental query. Finally he half-climbed/half-jumped into the mud below and began to wade out toward the river to misdirect pursuit when suddenly the fort was illuminated in a light as bright as a bonfire.
A voice boomed out, “This is a healing house of Fallon (46) and you will be given aid if you need it. Do not force me to spill blood in this sacred place if you come as an enemy!”
Ratchis saw a tall figure upon the wall, seeming to hold the light at the end of a shaft in his hand. The shadowed faces of goblins, peered along the wall as well, stretching out on either flank of the man.
Ratchis yelled back, “I am with a group that comes in peace.”
“It is not very peaceful to skulk about my post,” the voice replied.
“I did not know what to expect with goblins about,” the woodsman answered.
“I promise you sanctuary if you and your companions enter my home in peace.”
“Come to the front of the fort with your holy symbol visible and in the name of Nephthys, we shall enter in peace,” Ratchis bellowed.
“So it will be done,” said the man. “I swear by Fallon.”
Ratchis returned to his post to find Kazrack there, standing in horror at the appearance of the light and fearing the worst.
“What have you done?” the dwarf asked sternly.
“I went scouting around the fort to see what I could about it and was spotted,” said Ratchis.
“What?!?” the dwarf cried.
Ratchis seemingly ignored the dwarf’s outrage, “Get the others. The place is a sanctuary of Fallon. The priest has promised us sanctuary.”
“What?!?” Kazrack said again.
“Fine. I will get the group,” the tall woodsman walked back to the camp, awaking the others. Tirhas merely stood against a tree, her ice blue eyes wide open and unblinking.
“The fort is a temple of Fallon. It is safe and we are offered sanctuary,” said Ratchis.
“But there are goblins there!” said Chance.
“Fallon takes all and turns none away,” said Beorth calmly. “It makes sense now. That is why the goblins were carrying their wounded. They were probably attacked by the wolves as well.”
Kazrack was dumb-founded. “But the place has goblins! Goblins! We cannot trust that man or this place.”
“I will take the word of a Fallonite,” said Beorth, simply.
“He said he would meet us at the front of the fort. He is making himself vulnerable as well. It is the best chance we have,” said Ratchis.
“We are likely walking into a trap,” said Tirhas. “But since it is the only chance to save Janx I will risk it.”
“Well, if it’s a Fallonite, it should be okay,” said Jeremy.
Kazrack sighed knowing he was defeated. He looked to Jana.
“It looks as if we have little choice,” she said.
------------------------
The group marched out to the fort. They could see the doors were open, and goblin faces peered over the wall. As they approached they could see that the symbol on the sigh above the doors was a silver ankh within a red circle. Standing before the open doors was a man of less than six feet of height. He had sandy brown hair held out of his eyes by a blood red headband (47), and despite the fact that he did not appear to be beyond halfway though his twenties, he had deep lines of care and worry carved into his face. He wore a chain shirt and woolen pants with a leather skirt peeking out from beneath. In his right hand was a small silver shield in the shape of a tree’s leaf, complete with stem that curved stylistically from the top – in the right hand he held a heavy mace, about its head burned a bright fire that had apparently caused the light upon the walls. About the man’s neck was a holy symbol that matched that above the doors.
“Well met,” he said. “I am Escher of Fallon. This is Fallon’s Post.”
“Why are there goblins here?” Kazrack asked brusquely.
“All are welcome here who come in peace. All are worthy of mercy and healing in the eyes of my goddess,” Escher said in an even tone. “Follow me.”
The party followed him in – Tirhas Tesfay hanging back a bit, but as she entered, the Fallonite stepped past the group and closes the fort doors and sealed them with a simple log bolt.
The goblins turned and looked down from their perches on the wall ramparts, which only faced front. The large goblin in the chain shirt cried something in the goblin tongue, gesturing to the group, but Escher turned and replied in an equally rough tone in the same language. The goblin leader was silent for a moment and then called to his followers, who climbed down from their perches and returned to their tiny flea-ridden bedrolls scattered across the courtyard. They shot suspicious and angry glances at both Kazrack and Tirhas as they passed.
Kazrack returned the goblins angry, nervous looks with similar glaring. The rest of the party seemed bewildered by the scene, and at being so close to goblins and not be embroiled in melee. Among them only Ratchis seemed at ease – or at ease as he ever seemed, his body constantly tense as if ready to spring forward in attack, or back in defense.
“And now, who are you and what brings you so far into the wilderness?” the priest asked.
The group introduced themselves and explained about the wolves and the foaming mouth disease.
“Luckily, it cannot be passed to humans or demi-humans, though it drives the wolves to be aggressive. These goblins here, they were attacked by diseased wolves as well. They brought their wounded here to be tended to,” Escher said.
“Why tend to goblins?” asked Kazrack.
“All deserve mercy and a chance to do good in the world, even goblins,” the man said. “When my companions, The Oath (48), left Tallow’s Post, I remained behind, seeing that I could fill a need here – to help the goblins and lead them to a life where they could at least co-exist peacefully with other races.”
Kazrack harrumphed.
“That is a very honorable goal,” said Beorth.
“At first I was attacked often, as I tried to build this place. I would have to defeat the goblins and then heal them and release them. Then they would come when wounded and I would heal them and once healed would attack me, so I was forced to deal with them and then heal them again. Unfortunately, I had to kill a few during this process and the weight is heavy on my heart, but now the local tribes know I mean them no harm and have nothing to give them except healing. They come and I tend to them, and hope that this repeated mercy will soften their hearts in time and they will be filled with the loving light of Fallon.”
Kazrack harrumphed.
“Rasty!” called Escher towards the building. “Rastfar!” (49)
From the temple proper emerged and obviously young goblin dressed in a white robe of a priest.
“Yesh?” he said, looking at the party wide-eyed.
“Rastfar, prepare some beds for our guests and pull out the extra bedrolls, we’ll need them.”
“Okay,” the little goblin said, and ran back into the building.
“I rescued Rasty. He was a goblin runt and was beaten and abandoned in the woods. I found him out there and nursed him back to health. I named him after a former companion of mine. He will be full grown soon and then can decide what he wants to do with his life. He is kind-hearted and loyal. I hope he chooses to remain here,” said Escher. “Come into the temple. It is late and we should all rest. We can talk about why you have come here in the morning, with clear heads and rested bodies.”
The medicus led them into the simple log building. The crackle and glow of a fire greeted them. The far wall was a shrine to Fallon, with a pedestal with a basin of holy oil and a large bronze ankh in a red painted circle. Cots were set up lining the walls, and the four cots on the right were filled with wounded goblins. Just within the threshold was a rail - stopping there Escher removed his chain shirt and hung it up along side his mace (which had ceased to give the flaming light) and leaf-shield. Hanging on the wall was also a net and pole arm of some sort that had clasping arms for grabbing a victim about the waist and pinning his arms.
“No weapons may pass the rail. Please hang your weapons and armor here,” Escher said gesturing to the open pegs on the wall.
Beorth immediately complied, as did Jana who leaned her club against the wall. Ratchis removed his many weapons as well, and Jeremy followed suit; both Kazrack and Tirhas hesitated.
Noticing their hesitation, Escher spoke, “This is a show of trust to honor Fallon. No harm befalls anyone here.”
“This is only a hunting knife, not a weapon,” said Ratchis pointed to a long and wicked blade on his side. “Need I remove it?”
“It is a sign of deference to Fallon,” Escher said simply.
Kazrack and Tirhas finally removed their gear, and Ratchis placed his knife with the other weapons.
After a moment’s confusion, Jeremy, Jana and Tirhas took cots, while Chance, Kazrack, Ratchis and Beorth spread out on bedrolls on the floor.
“Before you retire for the night, I see that you are wounded. Allow me as Fallon’s vessel to tend to your wounds,” said Escher.
He laid his hand upon Ratchis’ beefy shoulder, “Fallon, please aid this honorable follower of Nephthys, (50) so that he may continue to help others find freedom and peace.” And many of the wounds on Ratchis’ body began to slowly heal and scab over.
The priest repeated the process on all the others, saying similar words.
“Goodnight,” said Escher, retiring into what appeared to be a small bed room behind the altar. “May Fallon bless your sleep.”
After Escher left the room, Kazrack turned to Racthis, “Listen, this whole thing worked out, but you need to realize that when you go off alone and take action without consulting the group you endanger all of our lives. Don’t do it again.”
Ratchis breathed deeply, “First, I am not a part of this group to have to answer to it. Second, when all everyone does is talk endlessly about nonsense, other than acting, someone needs to do something, and finally, when you all learn the danger of making a beastly amount of noise as we march through dangerous territory and how that endangers all our lives too, maybe I’ll consider taking the wishes of the group into account.”
“You may not be part of our group, but you travel with us for now and it is in all our best interests to communicate our plans. Even if you don’t want to discuss them with everyone, at least tell me so I know what you are doing,” Kazrack retorted.
“No offense, Kazrack,” Chance interjected. “But who made you the leader? I mean, if you want to be leader that is fine, but I don’t remember anyone saying you could tell people what to do.”
“I never said I was the leader,” Kazrack said, exasperated.
“Fine. I will keep what you have said in mind for the rest of our time traveling together,” Ratchis said and laid down on his bed roll.
After, a few minutes of silence, as the party's breathing grew deeper and regular, “If we get killed by goblins in our sleep it will serve us right,” Kazrack said.
A snore from Chance was the only reply.
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Notes:
(46) Fallon is the Goddess of Healing & Mercy.
(47) Fallonites wear white robes and red headbands to be easily identifiable in battles so the wounded know who to come to and in places where her worship is respected both sides know not to attack the priest.
(48) The Oath is an adventuring party of small repute that cleared the mines of Tallow’s Port in summer of 563 H.E. and went on to retrieve the infamous Crown of Llywellyn and return it to the king of Neergaard.
(49) “Rastfar” is a dwarvish name of the northern black dwarvish dialect.
(50) Nephthys is Goddess of Freedom & Bravery. Escher has noticed Ratchis' belt of scored and twisted chain links with broken ends - which is the symbol of this goddess.
Meanwhile, their scout was doing his own thing. . .
Ratchis waited for the sun to go down and then crawled through the tall grass. He was convinced there was something strange about this fort. It was well maintained and yet seemed poorly guarded; it just did not add up to the woodsman. He stared at the wooden walls for what seemed like an hour. He finally decided to move forward out of his hidden position to get a closer look. Ratchis figured if his intuition was incorrect he could lead the goblins away from where his companions waited.
Finally, he moved out into the open and quickly crossed the ground between the brush and the fort. He attempted to peer between the logs of the fort but could not, the spaces between logs being filled with what Ratchis guessed was tree sap. The inability to look out between the logs of the fort as well as the absence of a watch-tower only further fed the woodsman’s speculation that this was no ordinary military fort. With no other way to see inside, Ratchis climbed up the corner wall he came to and peered inside. From this angle he saw goblins camping out among carefully plotted gardens. There were crates and barrels against the inner wall and a low building occupying about half of the space inside the fort. Ratchis climbed down and crept to the next corner of the fort, this one at its rear where the ground was rockier and began to rise into hills. When he observed this end, he saw little of interest besides more goblins moving about, bows in hand. However, he could hear one loud high-pitched goblin voice conversing with another that was deeper and had a strange accent to it.
At the third corner of the fort, Ratchis observed a strange scene. Two goblins chattered to each other in their guttural tongue, near a small shack. One pointed to the shack and their voices grew louder and sharper. The goblin closest to the shack opened the door and entered, the scent of the place revealing it to be an outhouse.
This side of the fort sat in mud near the river. Ratchis came to the fourth corner and climbed the wall. When peered over, the chatter of goblins became high-pitched and alarmed, as arrows began to bite into the fort wall near Ratchis. He waited a long moment to see if their reaction would reveal anything else about what the woodsman knew was not a normal circumstance, but only more arrows answered his mental query. Finally he half-climbed/half-jumped into the mud below and began to wade out toward the river to misdirect pursuit when suddenly the fort was illuminated in a light as bright as a bonfire.
A voice boomed out, “This is a healing house of Fallon (46) and you will be given aid if you need it. Do not force me to spill blood in this sacred place if you come as an enemy!”
Ratchis saw a tall figure upon the wall, seeming to hold the light at the end of a shaft in his hand. The shadowed faces of goblins, peered along the wall as well, stretching out on either flank of the man.
Ratchis yelled back, “I am with a group that comes in peace.”
“It is not very peaceful to skulk about my post,” the voice replied.
“I did not know what to expect with goblins about,” the woodsman answered.
“I promise you sanctuary if you and your companions enter my home in peace.”
“Come to the front of the fort with your holy symbol visible and in the name of Nephthys, we shall enter in peace,” Ratchis bellowed.
“So it will be done,” said the man. “I swear by Fallon.”
Ratchis returned to his post to find Kazrack there, standing in horror at the appearance of the light and fearing the worst.
“What have you done?” the dwarf asked sternly.
“I went scouting around the fort to see what I could about it and was spotted,” said Ratchis.
“What?!?” the dwarf cried.
Ratchis seemingly ignored the dwarf’s outrage, “Get the others. The place is a sanctuary of Fallon. The priest has promised us sanctuary.”
“What?!?” Kazrack said again.
“Fine. I will get the group,” the tall woodsman walked back to the camp, awaking the others. Tirhas merely stood against a tree, her ice blue eyes wide open and unblinking.
“The fort is a temple of Fallon. It is safe and we are offered sanctuary,” said Ratchis.
“But there are goblins there!” said Chance.
“Fallon takes all and turns none away,” said Beorth calmly. “It makes sense now. That is why the goblins were carrying their wounded. They were probably attacked by the wolves as well.”
Kazrack was dumb-founded. “But the place has goblins! Goblins! We cannot trust that man or this place.”
“I will take the word of a Fallonite,” said Beorth, simply.
“He said he would meet us at the front of the fort. He is making himself vulnerable as well. It is the best chance we have,” said Ratchis.
“We are likely walking into a trap,” said Tirhas. “But since it is the only chance to save Janx I will risk it.”
“Well, if it’s a Fallonite, it should be okay,” said Jeremy.
Kazrack sighed knowing he was defeated. He looked to Jana.
“It looks as if we have little choice,” she said.
------------------------
The group marched out to the fort. They could see the doors were open, and goblin faces peered over the wall. As they approached they could see that the symbol on the sigh above the doors was a silver ankh within a red circle. Standing before the open doors was a man of less than six feet of height. He had sandy brown hair held out of his eyes by a blood red headband (47), and despite the fact that he did not appear to be beyond halfway though his twenties, he had deep lines of care and worry carved into his face. He wore a chain shirt and woolen pants with a leather skirt peeking out from beneath. In his right hand was a small silver shield in the shape of a tree’s leaf, complete with stem that curved stylistically from the top – in the right hand he held a heavy mace, about its head burned a bright fire that had apparently caused the light upon the walls. About the man’s neck was a holy symbol that matched that above the doors.
“Well met,” he said. “I am Escher of Fallon. This is Fallon’s Post.”
“Why are there goblins here?” Kazrack asked brusquely.
“All are welcome here who come in peace. All are worthy of mercy and healing in the eyes of my goddess,” Escher said in an even tone. “Follow me.”
The party followed him in – Tirhas Tesfay hanging back a bit, but as she entered, the Fallonite stepped past the group and closes the fort doors and sealed them with a simple log bolt.
The goblins turned and looked down from their perches on the wall ramparts, which only faced front. The large goblin in the chain shirt cried something in the goblin tongue, gesturing to the group, but Escher turned and replied in an equally rough tone in the same language. The goblin leader was silent for a moment and then called to his followers, who climbed down from their perches and returned to their tiny flea-ridden bedrolls scattered across the courtyard. They shot suspicious and angry glances at both Kazrack and Tirhas as they passed.
Kazrack returned the goblins angry, nervous looks with similar glaring. The rest of the party seemed bewildered by the scene, and at being so close to goblins and not be embroiled in melee. Among them only Ratchis seemed at ease – or at ease as he ever seemed, his body constantly tense as if ready to spring forward in attack, or back in defense.
“And now, who are you and what brings you so far into the wilderness?” the priest asked.
The group introduced themselves and explained about the wolves and the foaming mouth disease.
“Luckily, it cannot be passed to humans or demi-humans, though it drives the wolves to be aggressive. These goblins here, they were attacked by diseased wolves as well. They brought their wounded here to be tended to,” Escher said.
“Why tend to goblins?” asked Kazrack.
“All deserve mercy and a chance to do good in the world, even goblins,” the man said. “When my companions, The Oath (48), left Tallow’s Post, I remained behind, seeing that I could fill a need here – to help the goblins and lead them to a life where they could at least co-exist peacefully with other races.”
Kazrack harrumphed.
“That is a very honorable goal,” said Beorth.
“At first I was attacked often, as I tried to build this place. I would have to defeat the goblins and then heal them and release them. Then they would come when wounded and I would heal them and once healed would attack me, so I was forced to deal with them and then heal them again. Unfortunately, I had to kill a few during this process and the weight is heavy on my heart, but now the local tribes know I mean them no harm and have nothing to give them except healing. They come and I tend to them, and hope that this repeated mercy will soften their hearts in time and they will be filled with the loving light of Fallon.”
Kazrack harrumphed.
“Rasty!” called Escher towards the building. “Rastfar!” (49)
From the temple proper emerged and obviously young goblin dressed in a white robe of a priest.
“Yesh?” he said, looking at the party wide-eyed.
“Rastfar, prepare some beds for our guests and pull out the extra bedrolls, we’ll need them.”
“Okay,” the little goblin said, and ran back into the building.
“I rescued Rasty. He was a goblin runt and was beaten and abandoned in the woods. I found him out there and nursed him back to health. I named him after a former companion of mine. He will be full grown soon and then can decide what he wants to do with his life. He is kind-hearted and loyal. I hope he chooses to remain here,” said Escher. “Come into the temple. It is late and we should all rest. We can talk about why you have come here in the morning, with clear heads and rested bodies.”
The medicus led them into the simple log building. The crackle and glow of a fire greeted them. The far wall was a shrine to Fallon, with a pedestal with a basin of holy oil and a large bronze ankh in a red painted circle. Cots were set up lining the walls, and the four cots on the right were filled with wounded goblins. Just within the threshold was a rail - stopping there Escher removed his chain shirt and hung it up along side his mace (which had ceased to give the flaming light) and leaf-shield. Hanging on the wall was also a net and pole arm of some sort that had clasping arms for grabbing a victim about the waist and pinning his arms.
“No weapons may pass the rail. Please hang your weapons and armor here,” Escher said gesturing to the open pegs on the wall.
Beorth immediately complied, as did Jana who leaned her club against the wall. Ratchis removed his many weapons as well, and Jeremy followed suit; both Kazrack and Tirhas hesitated.
Noticing their hesitation, Escher spoke, “This is a show of trust to honor Fallon. No harm befalls anyone here.”
“This is only a hunting knife, not a weapon,” said Ratchis pointed to a long and wicked blade on his side. “Need I remove it?”
“It is a sign of deference to Fallon,” Escher said simply.
Kazrack and Tirhas finally removed their gear, and Ratchis placed his knife with the other weapons.
After a moment’s confusion, Jeremy, Jana and Tirhas took cots, while Chance, Kazrack, Ratchis and Beorth spread out on bedrolls on the floor.
“Before you retire for the night, I see that you are wounded. Allow me as Fallon’s vessel to tend to your wounds,” said Escher.
He laid his hand upon Ratchis’ beefy shoulder, “Fallon, please aid this honorable follower of Nephthys, (50) so that he may continue to help others find freedom and peace.” And many of the wounds on Ratchis’ body began to slowly heal and scab over.
The priest repeated the process on all the others, saying similar words.
“Goodnight,” said Escher, retiring into what appeared to be a small bed room behind the altar. “May Fallon bless your sleep.”
After Escher left the room, Kazrack turned to Racthis, “Listen, this whole thing worked out, but you need to realize that when you go off alone and take action without consulting the group you endanger all of our lives. Don’t do it again.”
Ratchis breathed deeply, “First, I am not a part of this group to have to answer to it. Second, when all everyone does is talk endlessly about nonsense, other than acting, someone needs to do something, and finally, when you all learn the danger of making a beastly amount of noise as we march through dangerous territory and how that endangers all our lives too, maybe I’ll consider taking the wishes of the group into account.”
“You may not be part of our group, but you travel with us for now and it is in all our best interests to communicate our plans. Even if you don’t want to discuss them with everyone, at least tell me so I know what you are doing,” Kazrack retorted.
“No offense, Kazrack,” Chance interjected. “But who made you the leader? I mean, if you want to be leader that is fine, but I don’t remember anyone saying you could tell people what to do.”
“I never said I was the leader,” Kazrack said, exasperated.
“Fine. I will keep what you have said in mind for the rest of our time traveling together,” Ratchis said and laid down on his bed roll.
After, a few minutes of silence, as the party's breathing grew deeper and regular, “If we get killed by goblins in our sleep it will serve us right,” Kazrack said.
A snore from Chance was the only reply.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Notes:
(46) Fallon is the Goddess of Healing & Mercy.
(47) Fallonites wear white robes and red headbands to be easily identifiable in battles so the wounded know who to come to and in places where her worship is respected both sides know not to attack the priest.
(48) The Oath is an adventuring party of small repute that cleared the mines of Tallow’s Port in summer of 563 H.E. and went on to retrieve the infamous Crown of Llywellyn and return it to the king of Neergaard.
(49) “Rastfar” is a dwarvish name of the northern black dwarvish dialect.
(50) Nephthys is Goddess of Freedom & Bravery. Escher has noticed Ratchis' belt of scored and twisted chain links with broken ends - which is the symbol of this goddess.
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