Before we left, Dannerick took the last few minutes to speak with M'Crush. It brightened his spirits.
Having agreed on returning to Veradin for the next steps, we dropped a sprinkling of Krasorus' blood in order to have the seer ship us off to the mountains.
On a whim, I asked: "Krasorus, is there anything you need from the plane material?"
For once, Krasorus was wordless. "I... I don't know."
I told him to think on it, and we strode through his blood-door to the star of our adventures.
Veradin Again, My Love
Veradin has not changed much, as we appeared in the office of the Grand Caravan Company. A camp along the city's east walls housed most of the refugees from Port Derrin, and stone watchtowers dotted the hills overlooking the city.
We were stopped on the way to the regent of Veradin's offices. The guards did not recognize us, and nearly caused a scene. Regent Corbyn did no better, and the mood did not improve once in his personal study.
High Chancellor Yu Gin had beaten us to Veradin. He left quickly enough, as he was to give a public speech that evening.
Once Yu Gin had left, we cornered Corbyn. The soon-to-be citizens of Goblonia were camped a day's march south of Veradin, and the city had not taken kindly to their attempts at gift-giving and peace-making.
We split up for some time; I wrangled horses for the travel, then rode into the refugee camp. Captain Dathis was in command, doing the best any man could. My trip was short and to the point. There wasn't much we could do.
Milo and Dannerick rode ahead to check in on an old friend of the thief's, the rest staying behind to hear Yu Gin's speech.
The Shepard's Bower
Bower's lands stretched nearly to the horizon, with a few large manors surrounded by smaller bunk houses. Even late in the day, the place was abuzz with activity. While there, Dannerick had good company with the werewolf shepard Bower and the previously-dead dwarf Torr.
Loud Words
We spotted the diplomat from Chuult in the crowd, while we waited for the speeches to start. At teh mention of the Eschatonian war, the audience erupted in anger.
It took Yu Gin to stand and speak before all else were quiet. After he opened, his motivations were made bare: he wants an alliance between Veradin and the Vechti Confederacy against Eschaton.
Corbyn spoke next, on accepting the refugees from Niverron and Port Derrin. It was a topic that had to be discussed, yet with no new information nor insights to gleam.
New Peoples
And so we rode out to catch Milo and Dannerick for the trip to Goblonia. Bower was very generous with his hospitality, which we took advantage of before riding onwards.
After a nice stop in the grazing lands, we entered the mountains proper. Following the river brought us to the mouth of its run, and a dozen torchlights marking the goblin lookouts.
Murg translated as we went, into a bigger and bigger camp until we entered the cave entrance to New Free Goblonia. It was indistinguishable from any other city, save for the inhabitants and its undergroundedness.
We met Lieutenant Ripper, a goblin officer. He recognized Murg's signs of Abadar, and without delay brought us to the Gobmeister.
"Hail newcomers! To the master of New Goblonian, the lady of the lands, Gobmeister Frumpin!"
In a throne of bone and wood sat Frumpin, the bugbear Murg had been smitted with oh so many years ago.
Things quickly took a turn: she asked for Murg's hand in marriage, in return for support in the war. And Frumpin asked that we vanquish a beast under the earth of their city: the Gabagool. First, I confirmed Murg's wishes -- and then united the two in the contract of diplomacy and love.
A Message from a Bilge-rat
As we were leaving, Captain Bateriel contacted us via
whispering sands. He was angry for us asking that he sail (something he swore he would never do). But after Theo gave him a good talking to, he agreed to meet us in Half-Moon Bay in the Vechti Confederacy, in three days. He asked only for rum.
Urgent
As Theobald began to draw up his teleportation circle, Dannerick received a message:
"They Have Broken The Line. They Are Here. Come Now."
In a flash of light, the vanguard was back.
We erupted from the war tent to confront the sounds of war: the clang of steel, the too-perfect march of automated legs, the screams of the dying.
A battalion of Eschatonian Bloodhawks, known for their rage and their haemomancy, had flooded the camp and set it ablaze.
So we sprang into combat.