Chapter 16: Wandering Sins

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Chapter 16: Wandering Sins

***

With a love we knew not,

The Great sun gave to us a peace forgotten

Warmth wrapped our skins in his Grace

Gave us the hope through the dark

An ambition, a flame to our souls

To follow, to endure, that fire to call

An ambition to us all.

 

So grant us yet another day…

***

Year of Wrath 1231, Season of Harvest, D.91, Ilgor

     “I’m glad you wanted to join us, Hob, what changed your mind?” Ghet asked as he was finishing applying the ashen paint to his skin. 

     “For one it is hilarious to see you two try and look like Gnomes. Two Ilgor has a point that I don’t know enough about all the potential targets in the area. City really does seem like the best place to get it without spending a lot of resources following each one around.” He said, running his fingers through his braid to paint his hair the same color. 

     The trio set off, Ilgor in front trying to look as casual as possible. She had mentioned to the two before that the guards have a much more difficult time seeing anything amiss once they were inside the walls. They were far more thorough as people passed through. This was the actual hard part of the journey. 

     Hob was getting antsy as they neared the portcullis, looking more nervous. Ilgor turned and put her hand on his shoulder to steady him, steering their small group into a shadowed alleyway out of the main traffic. “Hob, you need to calm down, you look too suspicious. Stop darting your eyes around, and looking about with sharp movements. The guards pick up on it, and they do a search. They do that and our jig is up, we can’t exactly hide our ears well. So seriously lighten up.” She flashed a grin at him, calming him slightly. “Just think of this as a nice walk with friends… with strange scenery.” 

     Exiting the alleyway, they continued on, their boots thudding on the cobblestone road. Hob, still being a little suspicious with his movements, did catch the attention of the guard, but they were too busy dealing with an angry merchant that was arguing about the taxes on his goods before they would be allowed into the city. The guards only watched the trio as they walked through the gates. Their eyes following them like a beggar to a coin. 

     “Coward” Ghet bumped into him laughing. “Such a big strong warrior scared of a little reconnaissance.” 

     “Shut it, I’m no coward, I'm still here aren't I?” He retorted back. 

     “Sure” Ghet drew the syllables out, rolling his eyes. “Could have danced to the chattering of your teeth”. Hob flushed, and turned away.

     Ilgor laughing, chimed in “You did good, at least you didn’t get caught the first time like I did.”

     Smiling at the praise, he strutted to the front of the trio meandering through the crowds, no particular destination in mind. Ilgor grabbed their hands in a similar way she saw the Gnomes do from time to time and directed them toward the market square. She always liked people watching there, a lot to eavesdrop on. She led them onto a main thoroughfare that she knew had a nice bench to sit at. 

     Hob noticed that there was a small canal running through the market square with a large metal object that glowed with a bright green rune on the top of it. “What is that?” He said pointing at it. 

     The other two looking over their shoulders to see what he was on about, Ilgor answered “I overheard a few of the Forge House workers talking about them. They are some kind of machine that, ah what did they say… generates power? Apparently they put them in the canals around the city to power the streetlights.” Ghet nodded like he understood what she had just said, Hob only cocked his head. 

     Forge House?” He asked. 

     “They’re like Caleb, what he does for us, tinkers with things.” She said absently as she watched the crowd, letting the sound of the crowd fill her ears.

     The three settled into a comfortable silence as they all listened in to the on goings of the city. A few notable things turned up that they weren’t expecting and needed to follow up on later. 

     “The Heroine of Huron will be making a visit to the city in a few months.” A floppy hat wearing man said to another equally posh looking man. His melon mustache twitching with the movement.  

     “Remind me, was she the one who used that Archon stone to help turn the war around after the Caliphate gave the Huron army a thrashing they wouldn’t forget?” 

     “Same Gal, her and The Sage. Pretty gruesome thing she did, an entire army slaughtered. I guess she pincushioned them to the stones they stood on.” Floppy hat man said with a shake of his head. 

     “Don’t tell me you are becoming a Caliphate sympathizer?” The man liked to talk with his hands. Many of the nobles Ilgor had watched did that. “They had it coming after what they did at The Slash, besides they were well on their way to conquering Huron before that.”

     “So what? Those thousands of lives ended at the wave of a hand, that kind of power shouldn’t be in the decision of one girl.” He huffed back, making a dismissive movement.

     The other man was getting rather angry at his companions' responses “Who do you think was next if Huron had fallen, you fool. I would be our city put to the flame, bet your sympathetic nonsense would evaporate if the knife was being held to your throat.” 

     The two had wandered out of audible distance, though from their reactions the angry conversation was only getting angrier. 

     “I like his reaction,” Hob said, “A past enemy is something that shouldn’t be forgotten about.” Ghet gave him an incredulous look, saturated with an appalling irony. 

     “What?” Hob spat.

     “You dense moron.” He said under his breath. 

     Another group of heavily robed young men wandered by to talk while they leaned against the railing. Their strange filigree and confidence in their voice made Ilgor think they were some kind of scholars or minor diplomates. “Outpost should just be taken before the Caliphate has the nerve to actually launch an effective counter attack. I mean their battalion set themselves up at the bottom of the Valley just before the settlement. They would be like shooting fish in a barrel at this point.” One of the men said with a flurry of hand gestures. 

     “Are you sane anymore? Why would we intentionally start an armed conflict with the Sultan again? Their empire expands out into the northern continent and supposedly out to unmapped areas to the west more. They are extremely well funded and equipped to deal with another prolonged conflict with us.” He smacked the back of the first man's head, “Think about it, it's almost as if the Caliphate battalion is just asking to be attacked intentionally by setting themselves up in such a disadvantageous position.”

     The first man rubbing his head retorted back “But why would they do that? Why would the Zybtine sacrifice their men like that? I think they are just led by some incompetent commander. “

     “You are a fool, I do not know the reasons, but speculation aside. Why would Huron give such an order to attack them? Huron is on the front line, they wouldn’t be so willing to kick a nest of hornets like that. From what we’ve heard at court, Huron is desperately trying to set up peace negotiations to avoid an actual conflict. In case you forgot, Huron, twenty years later, still hasn’t fully recovered from the Siege they were under.”

     “You have a point,” The first man said. 

     A third bald headed man chimed in, smirking at him “This isn’t one of the war games at court Volgel. Quit thinking that every scenario needs military intervention. Gains made in the short term can have disastrous outcomes further down. So maybe, just maybe, stop being a bull headed warmonger and think about the needs of Huron for a minute before you go on a half hour long rant about the incompetence of Huron for not putting them down right away.” 

     The other two continued to berate the first man until they were also out of earshot. Ilgor piping up with a worried tone to her voice. “That seems like it could be an issue later…” She let the statement hang in the air. 

     “I suppose if war did break out, we would have to flee deeper into the forest. I don’t remember this other war they are talking about. Is this the same one Caleb mentions occasionally?” Ghet asked, Ilgor only hummed and nodded. 

     “How come we never heard of this war from the Chief or Mother before?” Hob asked Ilgor, He assumed she knew the answer considering her reaction. 

     She absently responded as she was thinking “War never reached the shores Glaion, sent a lot of aid to their allies, supplies, troops, artillery.”

     Hob was going to ask another question, but Ghet rested a hand on his shoulder and shook his head. “She’ll tell us if she feels like it.” She glazed at both of them, not accustomed to this respect. The family only didn’t press Mother and the Chief for information, she still didn’t feel very comfortable being the new Mother for the Clan. 

     The uncomfortable moment was broken by a group of Gnomes walking by and noticing them. They came up to the trio and gave a greeting that the trio mimicked back at them. “Brothers and sister” The oldest of the Gnomes said “Have you heard about the Dwarves just north of the City? I am worried about their presence this close to the city. I worry that we should leave the City and head home.” 

     Hob did his best to hide his astonishment that their paint had been good enough to fool actual Gnomes. Ghet only nodded sagely, while Ilgor said, “I ran into two of the Dwarves to the south of here.”

     “My sweet child! They didn’t hurt you did they?” He spoke with fervor “They didn’t do anything to ruin you, did they, sweet child?” The old Gnome grabbed Ilgor's hand, with a worried look on his face, as if he truly cared for her as if she was his own child. 

     “No, Elder. They were actually quite kind. They startled me, but they were very cordial.” She said, smiling sweetly at his concern. She had used their honorific when addressing one's elders. She had noticed that the Gnomes in particular put age above anything else for respect. 

     He removed his hand, and scoffed “A cordial Dwarf!? I’d sooner eat my own socks.” 

     Without missing a beat, Ilgor responded by fluttering her eyes at him, and allowing her voice a bit of power. “But Elder, here I am. Unmolested, and still respected. Perhaps not all Dwarves are as you say.” The other two watched with wonder as the Elder was suffused with her voice. 

     “Hmm, well, erm, I suppose you are right.” He huffed, as the small group walked away. His eyes glowing slightly but quickly fading away before he turned back to the Gnomes he was with.

     “What the fuck was that Ilgor?” Hob said bluntly. 

     “I don’t know what you are talking about” She said, fluttering her eyes at him in the same way. Ghet only laughed, telling Hob he needed to spend more time around the Priestess’. 

     Hob hopped off the bench and started walking toward the market stalls. Ilgor and Ghet glanced at each other and shrugged, getting up and following him. The stalls were richly laid out with thousands of different items. Glittering gems and metals lined one that Hob was particularly entranced by. He spent a few minutes playing with a polyhedral cut ruby that the merchant was more than happy to let him handle. Ghet didn’t have the heart to tell him that there was a burly brute of a man with a stick watching the entire time. 

     Sweet smells of baking bread, strange spices, familiar ones. Cinnamon wafting through the air, basil, and fresh dill. A tobacco merchant had been explaining to Ilgor the aromatic differences between Corojo and Broadleaf, going into a lengthy story of how the spicy smell of the smoke came from the rich volcanic soils where the leaves were grown. He had called the large island out in the Bay of Swallows, Esteli. 

     The trio wandered through the stalls, admiring glinting pieces of armor. Watching one of the Forge House workers give a demonstration on a steam hammer that was able to bend a thick piece of Mythril with only one hit. The smell of pungent oils and perfumes, the constant babble of the crowds drowned out whatever comment Ghet had just made. 

     Ghet had managed to find a book stall that had an enclosed tent around it. He had walked in, he noted that the tent had the smell of incense and dusty paper. Ilgor and Hob stood outside and listened to him talk to the merchant about a number of topics. They were surprised he knew about a great many things about the local history of the City, happily chattering away with the merchant. 

     Ilgor thought he had talked about some obscure event that involved the clan many years back that wasn’t talked about much. It was used as a ghost story for the children these days, an old revenant had taken up home in one of the caves near the clan. The city had dispatched a Priest of Xelex and a coterie of guards to support him to exercise the abomination. The words were muffled, and she was dozing off a little, but the last part caught her attention. 

     “T’was the strangest ting, the Reverend Almach had said in an official statement to the King Of Glaion Louis the Fifth; That when they neared the cave they knew the monster to be hiding in, they heard a beautiful song echoing out from the caves. He said that the sonorous and almost choir-like quality, entranced them like they had never expected. He had originally thought that this was no ordinary revenant, something more like those ancient evils that are in the church's scriptures.” The merchant's gravely voice paused and the sound of a mug being set down could be heard. 

     Hob and Ilgor caught what was said under Ghets breath as he was sitting right at the tent’s entrance. “I remember her doing that, so young.” 

     “Pardon?” The merchant asked.

     Ghet feigned a phlegmy cough, and said, “What happened next? I am unfamiliar with this part of the story. I heard only that the Priest was able to exercise the spirit, and was given the bounty by the City.”

     “Aye, The Reverend claimed that to his dying days. But, I’ll tell you this. When I was the scribe for the court in those days, I heard the Reverend himself say tis. An eerie glow came out of the bowels of the cave, and when the group had gotten closer, they saw a goblin in a hood and holding a twisted staff singing to the revenant. Drawing some shadowy force out of its body and into the air.” He paused again.

     “Well this goblin had sung to this spirit for nigh on a full hour while the Reverend and the guards watched. Apparently to the Reverends account, they couldn’t force themselves to look away. Whatever it was doing to the spirit was affecting their group as well. He also said it was in a cadence and rhythm that he could have sworn the goblin was praying. When it was done, the spirit just vanished in a waft of smoke. It had also turned around and looked directly at the group as the glow from the cave faded. The guards noted that it was probably female, they uh, hmm.” The sound of him scratching his chin filled the tent. 

     “Well, they said that the goblin was a bit more shapely than the usual thugs that plague the roads. Apparently the hooded robe it was wearing was slit up the sides, the guards assumed the revenant had attacked her. That being a very frivolous side note however, the Reverend was at a loss for what had just happened. He came fully prepared with his special book of incantations and holy incense, and here was this goblin, able to do what a lifelong Priest of Xelex needed years of training to do.” The merchant laughed “Put that proud old dogmatizer in his place, that did!”

     Ghet had asked about a few books, and how much it would cost for them. The sound of jingling coins being placed on a wooden surface came from the tent. “This is too much, don’t you know how to count?” The merchant asked Ghet, his voice heavy with confusion.

     “Consider it payment for the history lesson.” Ghet said as he started to get up.

     “Hmm, well let me offer some bit of advice for you as well.” The merchant removed his glasses and started to clean them, “If you are going to pass yourself off as Gnomes, try not to twitch your ears so much. I can see them move under your hood.”

     Hob and Ilgor hopped to their feet, and Ghet whipped around to look at him. “Well I was only half convinced, but that proved me right. Do not worry, I never saw you here. You have been good company for this old man, I want to warn you of something first before you go. Have your two other companions come in as well.” The merchant motioned for them to come in. 

     Hesitantly, they complied, “Alright, what do you want to warn us about?” Ilgor asked as she stepped into the tent. 

     “That the City currently has a few Sightless Generals in the city and many of their hunters here. They seem to be training with the military on some better tactics. But, they are observant. So Miss, you with your bright purple eyes stand out for a… ‘Gnome’. The other two have dark almost black eyes, fairly common in Gnomish culture. Might I caution three goblins in the city to be a bit more careful.” He put his glasses back on, and looked back up at them.

     Ghet asked him “Besides my ears what gave it away?” 

     The merchant chuckled a bit, “You don’t talk like a gnome, they have an odd lilt to the words. They also are very energetic with hand gestures like the old pomps, but it was mostly how I could see your ears twitch when I said something interesting. T’why I brought up that story. Wanted to see if you kept doing it.” 

     Ghet only palmed his face, shaking his head. “Getting cocky in my old age” He said under his breath. 

     “We all do, son” The merchant chuckled, “Why don’t you come back another time at the brick and mortar shop up the road. I’d love to hear some history from the goblins' perspective. I have so many questions!” Ghet smiled at him and agreed. 

     The trio walked out of the tent, and Ghet asked Ilgor once they were out of earshot of the tent. “Illy, you know how to read right?”

     “Been a while since you called me that, but a little. I have trouble with a lot of the bigger words, but I can follow along.” She said to him,

     “Can you read these to me later, Mother? Can you teach me what you know?” He said respectfully, ashamed he had to ask, looking at his feet. 

     “I’d love to.” Giving him a wide smile. 

     Ilgor began walking out of the market square crossing the small ornate bridges that dotted the twisting canal network. She had started making a line toward the eastern City wall where a huge column of smoke could be seen between the building rooftops. She had in mind of seeing the Forge House and watch the workers. Though in the back of her mind, she was hoping to run into the Forgemaster again. She wanted to discuss a few things with that Gnome. 

     This section of the city ended up becoming a massive testing ground for the Forge House and their endless production of new machines, technologies and disciplines. The thought passed through their minds as they wandered past turbines lining the rooftops, an endless weave of cables and wires that crisscrossed the skyline, the apothecaries turned medical facilities. Strange runic mechanisms that hummed and powered larger machines. Polishing rock, cleaning brick of soot and grime, powering glowing light fixtures that flickered like candlelight. Teams of Forge House Apprentices walking through taking notes and recommendations to declutter the cable structures, and discussing proposals to the Baron about traffic flows through the city. 

     “And you said you were here at night crawling your way through this place?” Hob said skeptically as he eyed the spider web of power lines and support cables. 

     “You’d be surprised how easy it is to move unnoticed here in particular.” She said casually back. 

     “You mentioned a while back about wanting to see someone here again, who?” Ghet asked as they stepped out of the way of a group of workers hauling sizable boxes full of gears and parts.

     “When I was here I was caught by the Forgemaster who had some kind of glasses that could see my body heat. I couldn’t have hid from them if I wanted. We had a long talk, the Forgemaster even silenced a few people who tried to complain that I was there. The Master is in command here, if you have the Master’s interest, they will have you here without anyone else becoming an issue.” She told them as they watched a blacksmith hammer away at a delicate spiral of glowing steel. 

     The smith had returned it to the fire and picked another piece out of the fire and hammer away at it in the same way. “You never mentioned this.” Ghet said, eyeing her.

     “The Chief is already upset with me for making so many excursions away from him and Mother. Why would I risk telling anyone about the details when I never know when Mother is listening with her prayers? I’m telling you now because I think it’s unlikely she's able to listen this far out. Besides I think you’ll be able to use this if need be later on.” She said, not looking at them.

     “Ilgor” Hob said, turning to her, “I told you I am still yours to command, Ghet is still one of my raiders. We follow you, so please trust us a bit more than that.” He had a hurt look.

     Resting one of her hands on his “You’re right” After a long pause she added “I’m sorry, let's go see if we can’t find my friend.” While they walked into the Forge House gates, she told them about Shr’il, and the Dwarves she had met a few nights prior. How she was still watching over the raiders and following them sometimes on their raids.

     Ghet was shocked that she had befriended one of the harpies in the forest, even more so when she told them she suspected that the harpy had a few ulterior motives beyond just being friendly. Hob was impressed by the amount of information and practice she had gotten in both tactics and combat from eavesdropping on soldiers and diplomats of the city. He ended up asking if she could spar with him again, despite all of them knowing full well the Priestess wasn't strictly allowed to do so anymore.

     She began explaining some of the other things she was suspecting as well. That the guards had more recently began whispering about how some hunter was gathering information on the clan. Saying that the Chancellor was more convinced than the Baron that the Clan was going to be a bigger issue later on. 

     “I guess you really are right about how we are operating then.” Ghet said as they snuck their way past a gate to a back area in the Forge House where Ilgor had seen the Forgemaster before. “Hob, do you remember what she told you during your fight? That we aren’t taking out the Cities best, only angering them?” 

     “Aye, I do. Now that's making a lot more sense. I’m even starting to worry about Chief and how he is getting more brutal with his raids…” the moment hung in the air as they heard the rhythmic beat of a hammer and someone strumming a guitar.

     Ilgor ran ahead of them, and poked her head out around a pillar that ringed a large open forge. Two people were there, both of whom Ilgor recognized. Hob, and Ghet took up the same position just as Ilgor walked out and greeted them. Hob and Ghet stared at her incredulously. 

“In elder days before the dawn,

Our Skies shone with the radiant stars

Her majesty moving the skies to see

The elder days before the dawn

 

With a love we knew not,

The mountains sung to us with a peace forgotten

Warmth wrapped our skins in her grace

Gave us the hope through the dark

 

The Shadows of life, crowned in Mountain peaks

Deep beneath the sleep of her grace

We had forgotten ourselves

The elder days before dawn”

     “Forgemaster!” She said happily. The music was still playing, but the singing had stopped. 

     “One moment Gjorn, I recognize this voice that graces my ears!” They said, setting their hammer down and turning to her. Burly arms spread wide in greeting. 

     Gjorn chuckled as he said, “Khamere, this is the goblin woman I was speaking of earlier. I also recognize the voice.” 

     “Am I that easy to recognize?” She said sheepishly. 

     “I never forget a beautiful woman's eyes, despite how much she tries to pass herself off as a Gnome.” He said, getting up and bowing deeply to her. “My my my, speak of the Shadows and they shall appear.” He laughed. 

     Ilgor was unfamiliar with that expression, but the Forgemaster asked her question for her. “That's an odd saying even for you Songbird. What distant plane did you wander through to pick that one up?” 

     “Another time, old friend, Miss, please come and join us. Tell your two companions that they don’t need to hide over there.” He said, strumming on his guitar again. A soft and mournful song reminiscent of an old cantina. 

     Hob and Ghet appeared from behind the pillars and walked cautiously over. “Huh, my my, you goblins are sneaky. Didn’t even proc my alarms, they usually go off when anyone crosses my gatehouse. Hehehe” The Forgemaster cackled.

     “Illy, how much time do you spend near the city that you know them?” Ghet asked in his native language. 

     “Ah so Illy is your name.” Gjorn said back to them in a much older version of their tongue, not even pausing to stop his strumming. They stood there open mouthed, shocked that anyone could even speak their language at all. 

     “It’s… actually Ilgor, Ilgor daughter of the Clan Skullbrood.” She spoke to him in the same respectful way. Using the older dialect like Mother would do from her holy book. “I assume Songbird is not your real name but a title?”

     “Oh you don’t need to speak to me like I’m an authority, Child. Just wanted to see your reaction” He chuckled. 

     “No hold on Gjorn,” The Forgemaster said, raising their hand to him. “She tried that same trick on me, and I couldn’t recognize the language, she only dropped it after I invited her in and showed her quite a bit of respect and kindness. Let me know Brother of blood, what language are the goblins using?” 

     “Without a long explanation, I’m going to draw a rune for you “ He quickly ran his finger through some of the ash next to the forge, a square with two tails at right angles. “It is in fact the same language you use to write your magicks into your works. Namoux, Elder, Fae in origin. Not quite the same, but has many of the same roots and sentence structures.” He said with a flourish of his hand. Offering Khamere the slightest hint at something.

     Khamere, turning back to the trio of goblins, “I think I want to spend more time with you. That magic you used the last time you were here…” Khamere said, scratching at their scarred and burned face. 

     Ghet interjected, kicking Hob to bow along with him. “It is nice to meet you Gjorn, and Forgemaster Khamere. You’ll have to forgive an old man for his curiosity, but what are you talking about? What did our Mother do when she met you two?”

     Khamere motioned for them to sit down at a few of the other vacant chairs around the forge. “You can pull them over, I have them here as I occasionally do demonstrations here.” 

     Gjorn spoke up again after everyone was situated and comfortable. “You’ll have to forgive me, but I am going to have to decline that unspoken question from all of you. I am not particularly at liberty to discuss how I know all this. What were your names?” He said with a gracious smile.

     “My name is Hob, I am one of the Raid Leaders for the Clan.” He said with a small bow with his head.

     “My name is Ghet, I am one of the Clan’s raiders and might I add, one of the oldest members of the Clan.” He said, crossing his arms.

     “Pleasure to meet you,” Khamere said as he pressed the button next to his forge. “Kindly bring in a few bottles of the strong stuff, and something to chew on”

     A disembodied voice responded “Yes Forgemaster, more notables?”

     “Yes, please make sure the proper preparations are made.” Khamere said absently. While they picked up his work from the fires again.

     Gjorn laughed with his stomach, “Khamere, please realize I am the only one here that knows that you mean that anyone that comes here is to disregard what they see and not speak of it. Do you not see just how nervous you made them?” 

     The Forgemaster turned back to the trio and saw that yes, they did look off put by that, “I am sorry. I only mean that because one of my apprentices here that saw Miss Illy before was quite unprofessional. Please don’t think you are in danger here.” 

     The trio relaxed a bit as he verified what Ilgor had just told them earlier. “Now why don’t more people act like you two?” She asked them. 

     “What do you mean?” Gjorn said as he lit his pipe. Khamere started softly hammering away at his work again. 

     “Why are you two not off put but us goblins being in the city?” She said,

     Ghet interjected with an addition, “Most people we run into are not very fond of our reputation.” He added under his breath, “Though not really without reason…”

     Gjorn puffed on his pipe for a while allowing the smoke to billow around him, filling the small area with the sweet smell. “I told you last time we met, in my homeland the Neckbreakers are viewed quite differently. As far as I’m concerned, I have no reason to suspect you mean ill intent to us. So I will treat you with the same respect my culture demands as if I were to another Dwarf.”

     Khamere without looking up from his work as he gently bathed the metal in fire said. “You forget that we aren’t human either. Beyond that, information comes from many places. That's what I see this as, you are a potential knowledge base for me, therefore you will be given the respect owed to you as I would to my collaborators.”

     Ghet was quiet, thoughtful at their answers. Hob only nodded, accepting it as is. Ilgor responded, “Would you help us change the way the city views us?”

     “Lofty goal, heavy topic.” Khamere said. “Great changes involved.” Hammering away at the anvil.

     “I suppose that depends on how much you want to tell us of why the city has this view of your people. Well, before any advice can be given. I am doubtless that they have this view for no reason. The city has a long standing tradition of dropping all cultural differences when anyone enters the Pomerium. So what would make them view you like this?” Gjorn asked, looking over at them. His eyes seemed to gaze past them, into them. 

     The trio turned their eyes away from him. “I see, so another time then.” He said flatly. 

     “Illy, could you use that magic on me? I want to feel it again, I think I am beginning to understand what you are doing now that I know it has a Fae connection.” Khamere asked. Ilgor flushed slightly at the nickname that apparently now just demanded to be used, but got up and forced power into her voice and sang to the group. Gjorn, with a wide smile on his face, added his own music and voice to her old song.

***

     We were resting for a short time, we had stopped by a small tavern just outside of what the locals were calling the Artists Quarter. We had re-upped the paint on our skin, a slightly darker less ashy paint that stuck a bit better. The Patron of the Tavern gave us an odd look, but shrugged it off, and brought us the pints we ordered. 

     We found a nice alcove just outside with a wrought Iron bench, heavily carved into the soft metal. Brilliant floral patterns juxtaposed against the flat gray, we could still see the chisel marks in it. Hob and Ghet were chatting away, while my attention drifted off. I watched as the people walked by, strange colors of clothes, shining gold and silver metals adorning them. 

     This was a good spot to just stop and watch, a moment to fade into the background of the City. I noticed a small group of people crowded around another alcove on the other side of the road. They had a few candles burning at the base of an old statue, they all seemed to be happily sharing stories as they burned little slips of paper. 

     A few minutes later, the small group left and I saw that the statue was actually three. Clearly an older fixture, their hands rubbed shiny, left a bright brassy color. The cheeks of one of them were also polished by countless hands. Each of the statues staring down at the candles left burning in their circle at their feet. 

     The Patron came over and asked if we needed anything else, I turned to him, “What is that statue?” I asked, pointing at it, Hob and Ghet following with their eyes.

     He looked over at it and responded with a smile, “New to town huh? That is one of the statues to The Forgotten Family, I guess you could say they are a divine trio. They are meant to celebrate the found family, and shared memories. Like your Gnomish Pantheon, they are close to Villy, Syn and Kin.” Without missing a beat, we nodded in mock understanding. 

     Leaving, he took our empty glasses and we set off again. I told them I wanted a closer look at the Statue for a moment. We walked over to and noticed it was covered in ash, unburnt letters, and many remains of candles. Clearly a frequented shrine, well loved at least in this section of the City. 

     I looked up to see all three of them looking down at me, bright life in their brass eyes. I turned back to Hob and asked “Did they just move? I thought they were looking at the candles down at their feet?”. 

     Hob responded “What are you talking about? They are still looking down at them. Are you alright?” He put a hand to my forehead to see if I had a fever. 

     Ghet chirped in “Maybe she had a bit too much to drink when we were at the Forge house” He chuckled and patted my shoulder. 

     The statues were still looking back at the candles, maybe I imagined it, I thought to myself. Though I couldn't shake the feeling that they looked down at me. Hob picked up an unburnt letter and handed it to me to read. He made a noise, and grabbed a pen someone had left there. 

     He said “I get it! I wanna write something for them too.” He quickly scribbled something down and placed it at their feet. He was talking about the story of the time he slew the serpent beast that tried to run into the city a few years back. He started walking back out into the street, Ghet grabbing my hand, pulling me back out with him. 

     Looking back at the statues as we walked away, I thought I saw the status quickly turn back to the candles. “Maybe I need some sleep”, I told myself and followed the others back out into the street joining in on their conversation. 

     The sun was setting over the western City. Though the light was still bright, the mountains would bring night quickly. The three began a slow walk back out to the city gates, chatting while they walked. 

     “So we have some generals training the military along with a number of highly trained hunters. We might have to keep an eye out for them.” Ghet said yawning. 

     “I’m not so sure.” Hob said. “I think those Sightless work for money more than anything else. I don’t think they are a real threat unless they are paid to attack us. I think the city and this Chancellor Ilgor told us about are more likely to try and spy on us to tip off any potential raid targets.” 

     “I think that is the smartest thing you have said all day, Hob.” Ghet laughed. 

     “No, I think that brings up another thing. I think we really ought to try and convince Mother and Chief to stop raiding. We need a way to get the city off our backs and to have a better view of us. With this war on the horizon, I don’t think they will be nearly as tolerant of our clans' antics.” Ilgor said, worry tinged her voice.

     “I thought you didn’t want to talk about it. Your silence when talking with Khamere and Gjorn said a lot you know.” Ghet huffed.

     “Well now that stings.” Hob said, turning Ghet’s head with a forceful twist. “Look at our dear Mother, you’re going to make her cry.” 

     Ghet did apologize to her after he saw that she really did look like she was about to cry. Ilgor only kept going though. “I think we need to revise how we deal with all this. After you two came here, don’t you think we ought to try and be more like a real settlement? Look at what the city had to offer, protection, supplies, resources, information. Why shouldn’t we try and join them? Why shouldn’t we try and be something that can exist next to them without threat.”

     “So what? We start hunting more, using the wise women's knowledge of plants and gather more. Sure would make Knoll happy to do a lot more fishing.” Hob said, thinking it over. 

     “Boys, I’m tired of fighting with the Chief, I’m tired of both Mother and Chief saying over and over about the importance of tradition. I just don’t want the family to die…” She trailed off at the end. 

     “Hunting is easier than fighting. A lot less tense than raiding. Our hunters always come back, our raiders don’t. But why would the Great Father ask us to raid if it wasn’t the best for us?” Hob asked. 

     “Why would the Great Father” She spit Bhal's name out, “Ask us to live in such misery when we live next to one of the most prosperous cities the continent has ever seen? Why would he ask us to live day to day as if it would be our last?!” She was practically yelling at this point, drawing the eyes of the crowd around them. “Why should be just his soldiers in the afterlife if the life we live now is barely worth living compared to the things the other races have built!”

     Ghet and Hob stood open mouthed at her blasphemy. “What Priestess am I that questions her own faith? Mother always told me since the ceremony that she thought something was wrong at the end. She knows I received Bhals blessings, but why does it feel so empty?” She stopped and wrung her hands in tight fists. 

     There was a long silence between the three. The discomfort is a tangible discordance in the air, as frost spread at her feet. “Ilgor, tell us what's really bothering you.” Ghet told her, using that same voice he used when he stumbled on her in the stream after she ordered the death of that woman. “You aren’t telling us everything.” 

     She clenched her eyes shut and wandered back into an alleyway where they couldn’t be overheard as well. She spoke of how her dreams were plagued by visions of death wrought by Bhal. How all her dreams ended with Bhal being the reason for all their deaths, that the glory the Chief always talked about felt like a lie. She spoke of how strange things keep happening to her, like those statues earlier. She always felt like she was being watched by something, she never felt quite safe even surrounded by the clan. 

     She spoke through a tense voice of the kind strangers in her ceremony. How they felt more like family than the image a Bhal in her mind ever did. She didn’t know how to feel about her faith anymore, after she was told by Mother that their Great Father demanded such a brutal life from them. Mother never had an answer as to why, other than that he wished to make us stronger in the afterlife. “So why then? Are we just cattle to our god? To be raised to what he needs, and nothing else? Are we his children, or his property?” she asked them, her voice shaking, refusing to let tears spill down her face at her anger, tired of crying. 

     Hob stepped forward and hugged her tightly. “I didn’t know you felt that way. Hearing you talk about it, yeah. Yeah something feels off doesn’t it Ghet?” 

     “I didn’t know that was the reason. I had always thought the glory was to stand by Bhal's side, not be a soldier. Why would Mother and Chief never tell us that?” Ghet whispered.

     “She always said the holy book forbade it. Said it would only weaken the heart of the clan, lead to our downfall. But, what's the point if all Bhal wants from us is to die anyway? Wouldn’t he want it known that he cares so little for us?” Her voice was muffled by Hob's shoulder. 

     “So you want to end what you think is senseless violence, demanded by our faith. To… bring us to a new age?” Hob asked, Ilgor shook her head. 

     “I don’t want to abandon my family to it. I think there are other ways of living that don’t have Bhal’s glory be our only solution. I think that Bhal wouldn’t want us to stay so far behind, Mother spoke of how he wanted his ambition to be the spark of the children. So I want my ambition to bring the clan to a modern world that doesn’t require us to live such miserable lives.” 

     “You have such a turmoil of emotions, you hate the fact that Bhal demands this from us, but then speak of his ambition to bring us forward as a people.” Ghet breathed out, the chill autumn air catching his breath in a lingering cloud. “I understand, you think we are focusing on the wrong thing of what Bhal meant? Alright… Illy, I’ll follow till the very end to see this vision of yours.” 

     Ilgor flinched at his words. “What are you saying, Ghet?”

     “Chief, we will follow you till the very end, to see this vision of yours.” Hob answered for him. They had left her speechless, utterly lost for words. Did they really just think that the Mother was also the Father? She thought for a moment, and settled on the idea of: why not? If I want to reinterpret Bhals words, then why couldn’t I lead the clan?

     In the back of her mind, she felt something watching her. No, not just one thing, many. She turned about looking around, but saw nothing. She turned back to them, walked out of the alleyway. She knew she lacked a lot of knowledge about how to make the clan self-sufficient, she would need to learn quickly. Somehow. 

     She walked up to stall selling flour and bought a bag. “One last thing then?” Ghet asked. She looked back at them, flipping her hood down, letting her ears flop back out of the hood. She calmly handed the merchant a few extra coins, and walked off, letting the crowd part around her. The two others followed suit. 

     “Any reason for this show of yours?” Ghet asked as they walked through a dense patch of people to walk past the guards.

     “To show them all that we mean them no harm. You carry your books, me with a bag of flour to bake some bread with Mother. Hob with nothing in his hands, a non-threat. So let's test this Cities Pomerium.” She said just a tinge of nervousness to her voice. 

     “Seems like a needless risk at this point, maybe not test our luck so soon?” Hob said. 

     “Why not, the clan hasn’t made any raids within spitting distance of the city in weeks.” That nervous twang not having left her voice. 

     They were almost out the dockside when a guard patrol came into view. They sighted the rather large number of people getting out of their way, and apparently a few guards actually followed them that they hadn’t noticed. They were stopped by the group of guards, and an older man stepped forward. The badge of a captain on his chest. “What are you doing here Goblins?” He said rather calmly.

     She watched the look of shock and a mild look of being impressed cross the man's face as she answered. “We simply wish to pass through the Pomerium and return home.” She said in common, somewhat stumbling over a few words. 

     “Invoking the city Pomerium, hmm” He thought, scratching his chin. He motioned for all the guards to put away their weapons. “Can you prove these are not stolen goods?” He asked, he said it in such a way that he didn’t think they were.

     “They just bought that bag of flour from me, Sir. Took me by surprise when she flipped that hood down. She was awfully polite about buying it.” The merchant she had bought the flour from had evidently followed them. Out of curiosity or malice, she didn’t know. 

     “I’m not sure about the books, but I’m not going to press. Guards you will honor the Pomerium as is the Sacred Tradition of the Griffon Demands. If anyone approaches the city with good intent, and honors the City's customs. They will at least be tolerated.” 

     Walking up to the group he knelt down and added “Might I advise that you don’t walk around the City so brazenly. There are many people here that wouldn’t honor the Pomerium. Unfortunately for you that would likely not end well, though do know that those people would be punished for doing so. I’ll add that you shouldn’t try this again in the near future. Let the people forget about this incident, and we won’t pursue you for the crimes your people have committed, this time.”

     She was suddenly reminded of the silence she gave Gjorn and Khamere. Here staring her in the face was yet another person that didn’t really seem to care that she was a goblin, only the actions her people had done. 

     The trio had continued walking down the path, and out of sight. “Chancellor Michele, why did you let them go?” One of the Guards asked.

     He was silent for a moment, “I wasn’t expecting them to be able to speak our language. They understood our City's customs, they broke no laws while here. Let them be shown the mercy the city can provide.” Michele turned and began barking orders at the crowd to disperse. Ordered two of the guards to follow the goblins to ensure that no one attacked them, at least until they were outside the Pomerium.

      “Maybe Lucas is onto something with those things.” he said under his breath. 

*** A few hours later***

     The warm glow of the fire illuminated Ilgor and Mother as they patched clay together between the rocks, building a simple oven. Ilgor had brought over one of the burning logs to harden the clay. “Daughter, tell me about your day. What lessons has the Great Sun provided you today?”

     She sat next to Mother and started undoing her own braid as she began. “I’ve been thinking about your lessons of Bhal’s ambition, and that we should follow his divine spark in pursuit of that ambition.” 

     Mother smiled, closing her eyes, “Mhmm a good thing to be thinking of. Many lessons can be learned by looking inside oneself and seeking what you want.” She looked over at Ilgor, with an all too knowing look and still she smiled at her. “You know Ilgor, I remember when you were just a little girl. No taller than my knee, you always brought such a ray of sunshine to the clan. Now seeing you grown as a woman, you still do.”

     Ilgor flushed, “Thank you, Mother. Can you tell me about the time you dealt with the spirit in the caves?” Curious about the story she heard about earlier. 

     Chuckling, her voice dry and raspy. “Now child, where did you hear about that? That was well over forty years ago. Well I’ll tell you it wasn’t an evil spirit, only a lost one. I saw it in a dream once, a dark shadow. Over the next few days it would speak to me in my dreams, asking that it only wanted to be acknowledged before it left this world.” She leaned back, stretching her arms out, popping from her age. 

     “How did you get rid of it, Mother?” Ilgor pushed.

     “Well, that's an odd thing. I never had the gift of the voice as much as you, but I sang to it. Prayed for it, poured power into my voice through my prayers. It sighed in a great satisfied breath, and thanked me for giving it such peace. Before disappearing in a cloud of smoke. I vaguely remember some watchers behind me, some Priest from the humans thinking he knew best by the look on his face.” She concluded with a humf. 

     Ilgor began mixing the flour into dough as Mother directed. Ilgor felt a sense of calm and serenity as she enjoyed the moment with her Priestess. Letting the dough rest, she was surprised by Mother coming up behind her and hugging her. 

     “Mother?” She asked as she rested a hand on hers. 

     “Sweet child, why do you have to be so powerful? I see what you do for the clan, I know you don’t understand the teachings I give you.” She paused for a moment then continued. “My sweet daughter, I am so proud of what you are becoming. You make an old woman proud to be alive.”

     Ilgor turned around in her grip and hugged her back. “I never knew my actual mother well, I can’t really even remember what she looked like. But, I do think of you when I try.” She felt Mother grip her tighter. 

     She let her go and helped the old woman carry the dough over to the crude oven, and place them inside. She started coughing heavily, deep from the center of her chest. 

     Ghet watched with Cori and Hob from just outside the light of the fire. “You know, I really am worried about Mother, she doesn’t seem to be doing any better. The cough has only gotten deeper.” Ghet said.

     Cori added somberly, “I don’t think even Ilgor’s prayers can cure what she has. I think perhaps we ought to be preparing ourselves for the inevitable.”

     “Sad, but true. I think we should.” Hob added.

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