“Should we watch our backs?” Pleck asked the group.
“I doubt it,” Bolin noted, “whatever fight they had up and left em. Now it’s just us and the open road."
Blem felt his emotions running high like a pot about to boil over. He handed the reins over to Bolin as he quietly shook in his seat.
"You okay lad," Bolin asked, his jolly baritone working itself into one of concern.
Elia and Pleck turned their heads to get a look at Blem. Blem felt his shivers come and go, he didn't answer right away. "I'm fine, I think all the stress of that confrontation is getting to me now."
"Make's sense," Pleck noted, "whenever we encounter difficult situations like that we've usually fought our aggressors. With no outlets I guess you're wound up tighter than a corkscrew."
Elia placed her hand on Blem's forehead. It helped calm him a bit, the feeling of her elven skin on his forehead. Not as soft as the tales would lead him to believe, given that she's lead a warriors life, but gentle enough to be reassuring. "You're not fevering. Did you eat today?"
"I snacked on some of the smoked meat but nothing solid."
"That won't do, we should a place to hunker down and rest for the night," Elia replied to the group.
"I agree, the mule needs the rest as much as we do," Bolin said as he shifted off the wayn. They trekked a bit farther, so much so that the golden fields surrounding the town faded from view and they now found themselves on a hill just off the road. They ate and rested, occasionally exchanging anecdotes and stories about themselves. Elia revealed she came from a village called Gold Tree. It was thriving and prosperous before the slavers showed up. She didn't elaborate much else beyond that, keeping her replies curt and brief.
Bolin regaled the group about his home in Redspear. How the Dwarves settled deep in the mountains and battled all matter of beasts and monsters. Bolin described his deephome as being nestled low in the earth, close to the tunnels where the deep-wraiths would come in droves and attack. He was gregarious and bashful, quick with a jest and seemed eager to make the group smile. That being said he seemed to use humor to deflect, a habit that Blem found grating when he'd try to ask him an important question.
Pleck kept to himself, not really saying where he was from nor what he done in the past. If pressed he replied cryptically, much to everyone's chagrin. Pleck did let it be known that up until recently he had been a scavenger, although for how long and for what reason was anyone's guess. Unlike Bolin Pleck didn't deflect, he ignored. A fact Elia seemed to test whenever she'd feel better enough to ask questions.
When it was Blem's turn to share he didn't know where to begin. On one hand he a long history of getting beat down. On the other hand he did come from far away. He spoke about his journey from his clan, the Rattlefoot clan. He told them about his trip west, how he had to brave the long stretches of wilderness, the bitter seasons and occasional run-ins with ne'er-do-wells. While Elia and Bolin were enraptured by his story, Pleck busied himself by drawing a map in the dirt.
"According to your story, you crossed the continent lengthwise to get here," Pleck scratched his head.
Elia craned her neck to look at Pleck, "How'd you figure that out?"
"Blem mentioned living on the Edges of Cedric's Swamp, which is far east from here. He also mentioned a huge city to the south of clan's home which I would guess is the city of Cambray. He also mentioned Andal's Sea which is in the east. Ergo he crossed the entire continent to get to his cave."
"Wow," Bolin expressed, "how did you manage that, and why did you make such a big journey?"
Blem shrugged, "One part desperation, one part desire I guess. Every cave or abode I tried between my clan's home and my current cave have been hit or miss. Mostly misses."
"You wanted to undertake a big journey?" Elia said incredulously. Even Pleck shared her sentiment.
"Well...I wanted to be left alone I guess. I didn't mean to trek across the continent, it kinda just happened."
Bolin started laughing; he laughed so hard his belly jiggled. "Here's a wonderful fellow! Ha ha, Blem Rattlefoot the only goblin who could turn a small trip into a grand adventure!" Elia chuckled too, and even Pleck couldn't help but let out an amused huff at the absurdity of it.
"Surely there must've been closer places you could've sheltered in by your clan's territory," Elia reasoned, after suppressing a chuckle.
"Yeah, but I didn't... I mean what I wanted it... what I wanted is..." Blem couldn't seem to articulate himself. He repeated himself short of actually describing what he wanted. The group waited attentively for Blem to answer.
"What did you want?" Pleck asked.
At that moment Blem had a faraway look in his eye; he sat up straight, the campfire illuminating his distant gaze. For a few moments only the crackle of the fire and light breeze were the only sounds on their peaceful hill. "What I wanted was something...idyllic. I wanted peace I didn't want to be bothered by family or enemies. I sought out something far out of everyone's way, yet not so far out that it's unreachable. Is that so wrong? Is it wrong to desire peace and quiet, especially when the universe seems bent on disturbing you?" Blem didn't speak again the rest of the night. The group seemed to ponder his words as he lied down and drifted off to sleep.
The next morning the group continued up to the mountain. The ascent wasn't nearly as steep as Blem thought it would be. The Mountain had a long circular path the wound around the mountain, as if it were a long snake coiling around a large ant hill. The trip was uneventful up until they got to the midpoint of the mountain. There was a checkpoint, a massive fortress carved into the stone and built outwards from there. The walls were manned by all manner of siege weapons. The gate was made of what looked like bronze and contained a rich mural depicting life in the mountain.
"Eh, who goes there?" The guard was a dwarf like Bolin except he was clad in Reddened full-plate.
"It's me," Blem replied unhelpfully.
"Who's you?" The guard pulled out a spy glass and took inventory on the group. "You're a goblin!" The guard spoke as though this were a surprise.
"Yes I'm aware of that. Can I come in?"
"You want to come in? But you're a goblin."
"Again, I'm aware of that fact."
"Does this always happen?" Elia whispered.
"More often than I'd like," Blem replied. "Hey can we skip the circular conversation and come in? Is there a toll we can pay or somebody we can talk to?" The guard looked over the group carefully. Gradually a gaggle of similarly red armored guards came to check out the commotion.
"Pay the toll, no funny business!" the guards melted away from the wall. Then the group heard a slight sound of metal scraping stone. They found the source; a little barely noticeable slit had been built into the side wall. Inside the darkened room green eyes stared at them.
"Fifty silvers a head, plus a hundred silvers1As per fantasy traditions in regards to currency, 100 coppers = 1 silver. 100 silvers = 1 gold. 100 gold = 1 platinum for the mule and cart. If you can't pay shuffle off!" The voice belonged to a nasally dwarf woman.
Blem rummaged through the chest and counted out three gold pieces. He handed the coins through the slot. Immediately after the coins were received, the gate slid open. The group could hear the subtle clicks and grinding of cogs as the mural faded from view; it slid into a wall and on the other side was a heavily defended keep. The guards lined the walls and the walkways. They were all clad in the same full plate armor, but most of them also had facemasks that only revealed their steely eyes. The armors were geometric in nature; sharp and blocky, as if they were stone statues carved with a chisel and hammer. The armors contained intricate inlay made from a variety of precious metals. Some, presumably the leaders, had gemstones embedded in the chest plates of their armor.
When they made it past the checkpoint Bolin took a deep breath before fanning his arms out. "I'll tell ya fellas, the armor gets fancier, the checkpoint deadlier, and the trail rougher," Bolin spoke.
"Was it different the last time you were here?" Pleck asked.
"Somewhat, things were in order and all was well. Now something seems different; the armor is more opulent, there are more siege weapons on the walls, and no one is taking care of the trail. Weeds are growing on the edges and bits of the road are jagged and craggy. I can't put my finger on but something is amiss." Pleck and Bolin kept a keen eye on the trail as they advanced. They seemed agitated, a feeling that intensified the closer they got to the peak.
"It's like there's a malaise here," Pleck spoke aloud; "something is off about this mountain. Bolin was it always like this?"
Bolin shook his head, "No, never before have I ever felt something like this. It feels...dark and oppressive; like a set of eyes shadowing our movement."
Blem jerked his head around. If there was anywhere to hide on the winding mountain path it was either the ledge or the sky. "How long have you been away Bolin?" Blem tried to keep his nerves in order, now he could feel the darkness creeping around him.
"Two years give or take. I lost track when I was enslaved." he replied.
"Two years is a long time; a lot could've happened while you were gone," Elia astutely noted.
"We won't have our answers speculating on the trail let's go!" Bolin sped up his pace. The group followed as their feelings of unease intensified with every step upwards. By the time they made it to the gates of the peak the sense of evil surrounding them was becoming sickening. It was like being enveloped in a thick fog that made the mind swim and the legs weak. The gates were massive but unadorned; stone in appearance the gates reminded Blem of the gates in God-Blin's domain. The courtyard was likewise just as huge but barren. The outer walls that flanked the gates on either side were carved into the mountain itself, and unlike the checkpoint were not bristling in defenses.
"Is there a toll for this door too?" Blem turned to Bolin expectantly.
"We'll see," Bolin replied cryptically. He held his hand out in front of the group as he slowly approached the gate. He held his arms up, a gesture of peace and advanced towards the walls. "Hail brethren!" The guards in the towers massed along the walls quietly. They didn't saunter or swagger to their post. They marched methodically, as if they were cogs2clockwork items and devices do exist in this setting. Likewise technology not normally found in these settings also exist but in limited numbers for a variety of reason. in a big machine; their footsteps echoed along the walls till one by one they reached their stations. Though hard to tell from Blem's position these guards wore the red full plate armor the other guards at the last checkpoint did.
"Hail stone-brother," one of the guards beckoned, "what brings you to Redspear?"
"I wish to visit with my friends. We seek to explore the deep tunnels!" Bolin shouted back.
"You chose a funny time to come home stone-brother, all is not well."
"What's wrong?"
"What do you mean what's wrong, can't you feel it? That evil in the air so thick you can drink it like a soup! That's what's wrong it's affecting everyone!"
"In what way?" Bolin almost didn't want to hear what the man had to say.
"It sickens the weak, it frustrates the strong, and it drives the pious mad."
"How long has it been like this?"
"It's been like this a year now, it was subtle at first then it got worse."
"Let me in, please."
"Don't say I didn't warn you stone-brother," the guard replied solemnly.
Bolin waved the group over. He relayed what he heard to his companions while the gates opened. The gates were driven by sophisticated mechanisms; they slid open soundlessly, albeit with a thick cloud of dust brushing off the now unused doors. Behind the gates a large contingent of armed guards waited. Through the eye slits and eye holes the group see the looks of haggard men who just wanted the day to end. The guards shifted their gazes uneasily to the two goblins, though they paid greater attention to Pleck.
"I trust they won't be trouble," the guard who talked with Bolin hissed.
"No stone-brother they are trustworthy," Bolin declared.
"They are goblins, and an elf," The guards continued to look warily at the rest of the group. They weren't as heavily armed as the guards in their plate mail but both sides knew any following battle would be bloody.
"I swear to you, they are trustworthy and honest."
The guard glanced between Bolin and Blem for what felt like hours. Finally he acquiesced and let the group through. The guards parted watching the group uneasily as they walked by into Redspear...
