It was a cold evening when Octavia Cotton carefully lit a match. It was spring, but sometimes the cold days still remained. This was one of them.<\/p>\n
The match sparked, and the head flared into life. For most people in Celum, the city that Octavia had made her home for four years, the fire would have been a welcome sight, the heat comforting. But part of Octavia couldn\u2019t help but flinch at the sight of the dancing flame. Even though the match was her creation.<\/p>\n
She couldn\u2019t help it. She was a Stitch-person after all. And fire was one of the ways her kind died. It was a horrible death, and Octavia was cautious to the extreme when handling fire. She\u2019d rather juggle acids in bottles than risk a flame igniting with an explosive reagent. The match scared her, but she knew her cotton body wasn\u2019t that flammable. Even so, the spark of fear in her heart was primal. Instinctive.<\/p>\n
Still, there were some situations in which fire was quite useful. Like now. Octavia held the burning match up to a rag. Soaked in cheap alcohol. The rag ignited, and Octavia, swearing and moving quickly, grabbed it and whirled it around with the heavy weight it was attached to.<\/p>\n
Molotov cocktails had not yet been invented in this world\u2014at least not in the sense of using alcohol containers as makeshift incendiary devices. And Octavia didn\u2019t buy alcohol nearly expensive enough to qualify in any case. The burning rag was tied to a brick. And as Octavia let go, it soared through the dim evening light and straight through the window of an [Alchemist]\u2019s shop.<\/p>\n
Not hers, obviously. Octavia heard the shattering of glass, an exclamation, and then a roar of outrage. She raised her head and shouted.<\/p>\n
\u201cEat moths and die, Quelm!<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOctavia! <\/em>You half-wit [Boiler]! I\u2019ll cut your stitches off and use you as a coat!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou stole my matches!\u201d<\/p>\n Octavia shouted as she backed up from the shop. She sensed movement from inside. Then a man, scrawny, but brandishing a club, raced outside. His fingers were stained, and he wore an apron. She\u2019d caught him in the middle of mixing something.<\/p>\n \u201cHah! I perfected your inferior design! I knew it wasn\u2019t that complex! And I\u2019ll be taking all your business thanks to my spark-dust igniter!\u201d<\/p>\n The Stitch-girl hopped from foot to foot in rage. She shook a fist, wishing she\u2019d brought two stones.<\/p>\n \u201cYou won\u2019t get away with this! If it\u2019s a trade war you want\u2014it\u2019s on!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019ll bury you in sales! You\u2019d better guard that shop! I\u2019ve got a box of matches with your name on it!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHah! I\u2019ll have a dozen Drakes from Liscor stabbing you in moments if you do that! And unlike me, you won\u2019t be walking away!\u201d<\/p>\n Quelm the [Alchemist] roared and charged. Octavia turned and ran. She sensed a few shutters above her fly open as Quelm\u2019s neighbors caught on to what was happening at last. They shouted insults at Octavia as she fled. But no one called for the Watch. Undoubtedly, someone would, but they knew this was an [Alchemist]\u2019s fight. Not worth sticking their noses into, in short.<\/p>\n It was two blocks before Quelm finally gave up chasing Octavia. She slowed, panting, and wiped sweat from her brow. Well, she\u2019d delivered her message. Unfortunately, she doubted it would do anything. And now she\u2026probably\u2026had to pay for a broken window.<\/p>\n Still, it had to be done. Standards were standards. And Octavia, as one of four [Alchemists] in Celum, had to guard her territory. Not just in the physical sense; it was also about what each [Alchemist] sold. And in this case, one of her competitors, Quelm, had just figured out her match formula. And worse\u2014he\u2019d made it better.<\/p>\n \u201cDamn it, Quelm. Why couldn\u2019t you have blown up your shop making those matches?\u201d<\/p>\n Octavia kicked at a pebble as she walked down the street. She was already imagining how much business she\u2019d lose. Not just because Quelm\u2019s new \u2018sparking matches\u2019 ignited more reliably, but because he was charging less than she had. Before, Octavia had cornered the market, and she\u2019d inflated prices as much as she dared. That was coming to bite her now. But she\u2019d really thought they\u2019d have a harder time figuring the matches out!<\/p>\n The Stitch-girl got back to her shop and checked the boarded front. She still hadn\u2019t replaced her glass window, and her shop looked rather run-down. But she liked to think it was a well-known spot, even if that knowledge was mostly infamy rather than fame. Come to that, the boards might help if Quelm retaliated. She wished she actually employed guards\u2014this could get nasty if the trade war escalated.<\/p>\n \u201cIf Quelm spreads his designs\u2014no, if he partners with that bitch Mabel the Magnificent or Jeffil\u2014he won\u2019t partner with Jeffil. But if they start creating their own designs\u2014I\u2019ve barely gotten orders from [Merchants] from the larger cities yet! I\u2019ll lose access to the market, and that\u2019s before<\/em> they figure out a way to copy my designs in the larger cities!\u201d<\/p>\n Octavia clutched at her braided hair, wondering if it was worth selling the recipe to her matches to an [Alchemist] in Invrisil\u2014if she could even make the deal at anything approaching a profit. And then she wondered if it would come to violence. Quelm wasn\u2019t as thuggish as Jeffil or Mabel\u2014but he did hold a grudge. And he was an [Alchemist]. Could she afford hired help? Maybe a few Bronze-rank adventurers?<\/p>\n Alchemy was a cutthroat business. In some cities, [Alchemists] worked together in harmony and got along fine, creating wonderful potions and other items for the good of everyone. Octavia had yet to find a city where this was the case, but she assumed there was at least one. But in most cities where there was more than one [Alchemist], they got along as well as a bag full of cats. And bull feces. On fire.<\/p>\n It was mainly due to personality. It was a very odd type of person who became an [Alchemist]. Not only did you have to be keen on mixing various poisons and ingredients that might explode, melt, or create something entirely unexpected, you had to be part [Merchant] as well to obtain your ingredients and sell your products.<\/p>\n Most [Alchemists] were odd in some way. You could roughly divide them into two camps: the insane geniuses who just wanted to create and weren\u2019t much good at interpersonal communication, and the ones who were business-savvy and could sell as well as create. Octavia fell into the latter camp. She liked to think she\u2019d made her store, Stitch Works, quite profitable. She liked to think that.<\/p>\n But if she was honest\u2026Octavia sighed as she looked around her shop. She had potions on the shelves, goods on display, with her boxes of matches prominently featured right next to the counter. She had money in the little safe hidden in her bathroom\u2014a good amount and almost all gold. All in all, she was running a good shop. An average shop.<\/p>\n Not a famous shop. Her potions were mid-tier at best. Octavia was a Level 21 [Alchemist]\u2014she\u2019d just reached the point at which she could consider taking on an apprentice, if one even wanted to work for someone of her level yet. Her store might be something in ten years if she reached Level 30\u2014then she could move to a bigger city up north or go south into Drake lands. Or she could stay here and be the top [Alchemist] in Celum.<\/p>\n If she was Level 30. If she had real<\/em> potions to sell. But right now, she earned her living selling cheap healing potions to [Guards], [Mercenaries], adventurers, and mana potions to the low-level [Mages] who came by. Her profits came in silver, not gold. And while it was steady, it wasn\u2019t much. Octavia had been a middling [Alchemist]. Until she\u2019d met Erin Solstice. And Ryoka Griffin. And had made matches.<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cFive levels in two months. Sales through the roof! And the pepper potion, the smoke bag, the, er\u2014exploding flour\u2014all of it at competitive, but not too steep prices!<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n Octavia puffed out her chest as she remembered the days when her shop had been filled with customers. Then she recalled each of her competitors stealing her designs, producing the same potions and finding ways to improve her formulas, taking her business. That was what [Alchemists] did. It was hard, very hard to come up with something that wouldn\u2019t be stolen at once.<\/p>\n \u201cBut I do have something. A Haste Potion. Or\u2014or a lead to go on. And the, uh, peni-whatever.\u201d<\/p>\n Octavia muttered to herself. She walked behind her counter and checked on her projects. Mold, growing on pieces of bread\u2014and cheese, she\u2019d expanded the set\u2014in little jars. In all colors too. Octavia had been looking for the blue-green consistency Ryoka had told her was the right mold, but none of the molds she\u2019d found had worked like Ryoka had said. She shook her head and then looked at her most precious project, sitting in a little bottle in a hidden drawer right under her desk.<\/p>\n A tiny bit of potion. Glowing yellow, streaked with bright pink. It glowed as Octavia carefully held it up and regarded the liquid. Even after months of being in the sealed container, the potion looked as bright as it had on the day Ryoka had shown it to her. The colors were vivid, the liquid practically raced by itself. Octavia\u2019s heart beat quicker as she imagined the [Alchemist] who\u2019d made it.<\/p>\n \u201cA high-grade potion of haste. Gold-rank adventurers would sell their hair for a potion like this.\u201d<\/p>\n If she could replicate it\u2014or the penicillin that Ryoka had talked about\u2014Octavia would be rich. And famous. Healing potions were notorious for not working on serious diseases. In fact, they made them worse. An infection would spread even faster with a healing potion accelerating it. Healing potions couldn\u2019t handle sickness; it was one reason why [Healers] were still needed. But if Octavia could distill the anti-disease agent Ryoka had wanted so badly\u2026<\/p>\n Or make a potion of this caliber. The Stitch-girl shivered and replaced the sample of the potion in her compartment. If she could do either, she\u2019d finally make it. All her hard work, the years she\u2019d spent apprenticing, moving from Chandrar to Izril, fighting for every grimy copper coin\u2014it would all be worth it.<\/p>\n But she couldn\u2019t do either. It was impossible. Octavia hadn\u2019t been able to analyze the precious sample of potion or find which damn mold cured infection. And now she was fighting with the other [Alchemists] over matches.<\/p>\n \u201cI could really use some new products. Or hired help. A few [Thugs] with bats, maybe? But I need coin. I\u2019ve already spent too much on new equipment.\u201d<\/p>\n Octavia cast a glance at the shiny new sets of alchemy gear\u2014magical burners which could more effectively regulate temperature or even produce different flames for special ingredients, enchanted glassware to contain even the most dangerous reactions, retorts made by master [Glass Blowers] from Terandria, and so on. Octavia was willing to admit she\u2019d splurged too much recently. But if she could get a new product on her shelves, something truly uncopyable\u2014<\/p>\n Her eyes slid sideways as her fingers drummed restlessly on the counter. Octavia\u2019s leg shook, tapping the floor. She looked down and frowned.<\/p>\n \u201cRestless leg. I should check that.\u201d<\/p>\n Absently, she sat on her stool and took off her leg. It was fairly simple; Octavia\u2019s legs were secured to her body with black string. The [Alchemist] had to take off her pants to undo the leg, but as soon as she removed the stitching, she felt her limb disappear. And a cloth leg, very detailed but cloth nonetheless, appeared in her hands.<\/p>\n It was a peculiarity of the String People. They had been made, and they made themselves. Their bodies were cloth; they could reattach limbs or even redesign themselves at will if they had the right materials. In Octavia\u2019s case, she was a String-Girl of the Cotton folk; hence her name.<\/p>\n Octavia Cotton. Not poor, but not rich by any means. Her body was functional, but it developed flaws over time. Like wadded up stuffing, or in this case, misaligned nerves. Octavia checked her leg thoroughly before sewing it back into her body. She felt her leg reattach; the restless shaking stopped.<\/p>\n A good enough body. The kind you wanted as an [Alchemist] anyways; cheap to replace. But what Octavia would have given for a body made of silk! Even really cheap silk! Or another precious material, like satin<\/em> or Griffinfeather cloth or\u2026.<\/p>\n Again, Octavia\u2019s eyes slid left. Towards something set into the left wall of her shop. A door.<\/p>\n It was a curious thing. Just a wooden door. It clearly, clearly<\/em> did not lead anywhere since if you went through the wall you\u2019d be exiting right into the alley and there was no door on the other side. And yet, the door did lead somewhere. It was magical, or the glowing gem set into the doorframe was. It was bright green, and it connected the door, in theory, to a magical door a hundred miles south of here. To an inn located just outside the Drake city of Liscor.<\/p>\n Magic. And Octavia\u2019s shop was the place this humble door was connected to. How incredible was that? How potentially lucrative? Some nights, Octavia lay awake in bed, practically salivating over the possibilities. She\u2019d already secured a deal to sell her potions in Liscor\u2019s market with a hard-bargaining Gnoll [Shopkeeper].<\/p>\n And she had a\u2026friend? A person who lived in said inn who could give her everything Octavia needed. New ideas, an edge on the competition\u2014maybe even a way to guard her now-perilous shop at night.<\/p>\n But\u2014Octavia hesitated. Her fingers drummed faster on the counter. It wasn\u2019t the time to go. She knew that. Not for business. Even Octavia had a heart. And yet, she wanted to go nonetheless. For reasons other than making a profit. Because\u2014<\/p>\n She was at the door before she knew it. Octavia told herself she was just going to peek. Besides, if the door wasn\u2019t set to Celum, it wouldn\u2019t matter. It probably wasn\u2019t anyways. Probably\u2014<\/p>\n She opened the door a crack, and her breath caught. Instead of stone wall behind the door, there was a dark wooden floor. A larger room than Octavia\u2019s shop. The scent of cooked food, wood, and just the faintest whiff of something putrid. The Stitch-girl hesitated.<\/p>\n She shouldn\u2019t. She knew she probably wasn\u2019t wanted. But she still pushed the door open wider a bit. She\u2019d poke her head in, scope out the scene\u2014<\/p>\n Octavia looked around The Wandering Inn. Her first glimpse of things was of a dark, dark room. Practically pitch-black, in fact. A tall ceiling looked down at her, and the room stretched<\/em> ahead of Octavia. Impossibly far, like some kind of huge mess hall. Or a theater.<\/p>\n At the far end of the room was a stage. It was empty, and the chairs and tables leading up to it were deserted. It was dark. Octavia could barely make out the far end of the room. The only light came from a pair of big candles burning low on the tables closer to the front door and kitchen. There was no light from outside; not even moonlight. The shutters were closed so tightly nothing could get in. And the inn looked deserted.<\/p>\n Was everyone gone? Surely not. Octavia cracked open the door a bit wider. She stepped into the inn, half-closing the door to her shop behind her. She looked around, heart beating a bit fast. Where was everyone? Normally, the inn would be full of life. True, given what had happened, Octavia didn\u2019t expect that, but she\u2019d assumed someone <\/em>would be\u2014<\/p>\n Click<\/em>.<\/p>\n Octavia heard the gentle sounds of nails clicking on the hardwood floor. She spun. A small, white shape had crept up on her from behind. Two bright eyes stared up at Octavia. The [Alchemist] nearly jumped out of her stitches. Then she recognized the creature who\u2019d appeared. Not an animal, but a person. A child.<\/p>\n \u201cMrsha?\u201d<\/p>\n The white Gnoll looked up at Octavia. She lowered herself and sat cross-legged on the ground, staring up at the Stitch-girl. Octavia passed a hand over her forehead.<\/p>\n \u201cYou scared the\u2014hello! How\u2019s my favorite match-seller doing? Ah, is anyone around? Are you alone?\u201d<\/p>\n Mrsha didn\u2019t respond. She just gazed up silently at Octavia. That wasn\u2019t unusual in itself; Mrsha couldn\u2019t speak. But Octavia noted the stillness of Mrsha\u2019s form. Normally, she\u2019d be full of energy. Her tail, usually wagging, was still. She just sat and looked up at Octavia, a world of unspoken words waiting behind her eyes.<\/p>\n \u201cUm\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n A creak. Octavia turned again and saw someone walk out of the kitchen. Lyonette, a girl with red hair, paused as she walked out of the kitchen holding a saucer and smaller candle. She reached for something at her side the instant she saw Octavia\u2014then relaxed. But her voice wasn\u2019t too friendly as she walked over.<\/p>\n \u201cOctavia? What are you doing here? The inn\u2019s closed. If you\u2019re here to sell something\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat, me? No! Never! I mean, not right now!\u201d<\/p>\n Octavia raised her hands and protested. She looked from Lyonette to Mrsha. Neither one was smiling. Both looked\u2026quiet was the only word for it. Not just in words, but in action. They stood together, in the dark common room, staring at Octavia. She already felt like an intruder.<\/p>\n \u201cI, uh, was just coming over to say hi. And to check on how things were\u2014were doing.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThere\u2019s nothing for you here. And don\u2019t bother trying to get to Liscor; we\u2019re not changing the magical door, and I\u2019ve barred the front door.\u201d<\/p>\n Lyonette put her candle on the table and crossed her arms. Octavia winced. Why did everyone think she only<\/em> thought about money? Oh, right. Well, she wasn\u2019t thinking of it in this case!<\/p>\n \u201cI don\u2019t want to sell anything. Honest. I\u2019m just here to see\u2014is Erin here?\u201d<\/p>\n The word made Lyonette\u2019s expression flicker. Mrsha looked from her to Octavia.<\/p>\n \u201cErin\u2019s upstairs. She\u2019s alive.\u201d<\/p>\n Not the most reassuring of words. Octavia looked around and saw the staircase.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2014I mean, I won\u2019t if it\u2019s not a good time, but I could say hi. Is she\u2014how\u2019s she doing?\u201d<\/p>\n Lyonette hesitated. She looked at Octavia suspiciously, as if still suspecting that Octavia was here to make a deal or bargain for something. Then she shook her head.<\/p>\n \u201cShe\u2019s not doing well.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cStill?\u201d<\/p>\n The two young women looked at each other. Lyonette nodded and moved to sit at a table. Mrsha crawled onto a chair next to her and leaned on her. Quiet. Octavia shifted from foot to foot, but she didn\u2019t sit down. It felt empty in here. Empty and silent, like a graveyard.<\/p>\n Or a wake.<\/p>\n \u201cShe\u2019s upstairs. Crying. I check on her a few times every day. She\u2019s\u2026it\u2019s been six days, and she hasn\u2019t done anything.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2026I know that. I checked in on the second day. When, uh\u2014six days? It feels shorter than that. I mean, I just heard about all of it. The door only came back when it was over. Obviously. And I was relieved to hear\u2014I mean, I didn\u2019t know until\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n Octavia babbled a bit. Lyonette just looked up at her. The [Alchemist] stopped.<\/p>\n \u201cHow bad was it?\u201d<\/p>\n She hadn\u2019t gotten a chance to ask before. Lyonette paused. She seemed to search for words.<\/p>\n \u201cWe were in the city. That was all. We didn\u2019t see any of the fighting. We just saw the aftermath.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAnd was\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n The Stitch-girl got no further. The look in Lyonette\u2019s eyes\u2014in both hers and Mrsha\u2019s eyes\u2014was enough. They stared at Octavia in silence. The [Alchemist] paused. She looked around the empty inn silently for a minute. She chose her next words carefully.<\/p>\n \u201cI heard\u2014in Celum, that is\u2014that people were complaining that the Players of Celum weren\u2019t putting on performances. Er, does that mean the inn\u2019s\u2026?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo one\u2019s putting on performances. Erin told Wesle that. And there\u2019s no point anyways. No one\u2019s coming here.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo one at all?\u201d<\/p>\n Part of Octavia wasn\u2019t surprised. But it had been six days. She would have expected someone<\/em> to stop by, if only for Erin. But she hadn\u2019t understood what Lyonette meant.<\/p>\n \u201cNo one can enter the inn. It\u2019s impossible for anyone in Liscor to come here, aside from the Horns, the Halfseekers\u2026and me and Mrsha.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat? You mean the door\u2019s locked?\u201d<\/p>\n The [Alchemist] was confused. Lyonette shook her head as Mrsha reached out and tipped the candle, staring at the wax as it ran down one side.<\/p>\n \u201cNo. I mean, they cannot enter.<\/em> Most can\u2019t even leave the city if they want to get to the inn. Erin\u2019s not letting them.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou mean\u2014with a Skill?\u201d<\/p>\n Lyonette nodded. Octavia blinked. She could do<\/em> that? Of course, Octavia knew of Skills that could affect a shop\u2019s popularity\u2014like [Shopper\u2019s Stop] or [Discerning Clientele], which could affect which customers you got or how much business came to you, but physically preventing someone from reaching the inn? That went way beyond what most Skills were capable of. Spells as well.<\/p>\n And no one? Lyonette just nodded when Octavia asked about that.<\/p>\n \u201cNo one. No one who was in Liscor. Or on the walls. Even people like Halrac or Typhenous can\u2019t enter. And the rest\u2026definitely not.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou mean, the ones who were there. Who watched and didn\u2019t\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYeah.\u201d<\/p>\n The ones who\u2019d watched the last battle of the Goblin Lord. Six days ago, two armies had fought here. Three, if you wanted to count the last part of the battle. Four if you included Liscor. But the two armies that had fought, one to defend Liscor and the other to take it, had been Goblins.<\/p>\n The Goblin Lord\u2019s army had advanced on Liscor, forced into the action by Lord Tyrion Veltras and an army of Humans intent on using the battle as a pretext to claim Liscor. They had been stopped and Tyrion\u2019s plans foiled\u2014by an army of Goblins who\u2019d appeared to defend Liscor. Cave Goblins, a tribe opposing the Goblin Lord, the famous Redfangs of the High Passes, and the five Hobgoblins staying at Erin\u2019s inn.<\/p>\n They had fought, placing themselves in the Goblin Lord\u2019s way against impossible odds. For an [Innkeeper]. At her request. They had fought. And they had won.<\/p>\n And they had died. That was all Octavia knew. But it was enough. Enough, because she had seen the five Hobgoblins in Erin\u2019s inn. Seen them and known that Erin treated Goblins like people. And those people had been wiped out to the last. Not just by Tyrion Veltras, who had attacked both armies when he realized his plan would fail, but by Liscor itself. They had fled towards the city and been cut down. Repulsed by the city they had fought for.<\/p>\n It wasn\u2019t something you heard about. All the [Criers] and [Messages] going back and forth were about the outcome of the battle. Tyrion Veltras challenging the Drakes to combat at the Blood Fields, the political fallout in the north thanks to Magnolia Reinhart. Little about the Goblins.<\/p>\n But here, in this inn, the Goblins were all that mattered. And Erin\u2014Octavia shifted in her chair. No wonder no one from Liscor could come through. They\u2019d watched the battle happen and given only a little aid to the Goblins\u2019 side. And at the end\u2026<\/p>\n \u201cHow come I can get through? I didn\u2019t have a problem.\u201d<\/p>\n She pointed that out to Lyonette. The young woman shrugged.<\/p>\n \u201cErin probably didn\u2019t think of you.\u201d<\/p>\n She elaborated at the hurt look on Octavia\u2019s face.<\/p>\n \u201cThere wasn\u2019t anything you could have done. The door to Celum was closed. But everyone else\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThey really can\u2019t get close?\u201d<\/p>\n Octavia looked towards the door. It was shut, and the lock bar was in place. Windows closed\u2026she wished that Lyonette would have at least opened a few windows. Maybe she was worried about crime at night? Or it could be chilly, true, but she could at least light a fire. It was too dark like this.<\/p>\n Lyonette didn\u2019t seem to share the same opinion. She shook her head.<\/p>\n \u201cThey can\u2019t get near. They can\u2019t even get up the hill. Olesm tried for three hours yesterday. He couldn\u2019t so much as take a step. I think Wall Lord Ilvriss could, or maybe Relc or Klbkch or one of the Gold-ranks\u2014but they won\u2019t try.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWow.\u201d<\/p>\n That was all Octavia could say. She watched Mrsha carving at the candle with one claw. Quietus.<\/p>\n \u201cSo Erin\u2019s\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cUpstairs.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cShould I\u2026?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIf you want. I don\u2019t think it\u2019ll do anything. But I won\u2019t stop you. You want to try?\u201d<\/p>\n Octavia hesitated. But she had come this far, and this was the reason she\u2019d come to begin with. So she nodded. Lyonette stood up abruptly. She took the candle from Mrsha and nodded to the stairs.<\/p>\n \u201cShe\u2019s in my old room. Mine and Mrsha\u2019s.\u201d<\/p>\n She led the way up the stairs. Octavia followed her, expecting the floorboards to creak. But they didn\u2019t. They were new. She waited for sound. Movement. Anything. But the inn was so quiet it pressed down on her. Lyonette stopped before the first door she came to and knocked on it.<\/p>\n \u201cErin? Octavia\u2019s here. She\u2019d like to speak to you.\u201d<\/p>\n There was no response. Lyonette knocked again and then silently pushed the door open. Octavia peeked into the room and saw her.<\/p>\n A young woman was curled up on the floor. Her light brown hair was an untidy mess. She was facing away from them, towards a wall.<\/p>\n \u201cErin?\u201d<\/p>\n Octavia\u2019s voice quavered uncertainly as Lyonette stood to one side. The [Innkeeper] didn\u2019t reply. Octavia coughed, and then she raised her voice brightly.<\/p>\n \u201cHey! Sorry to bother you, but, uh, I was just in the area\u2014you know, magic door\u2014and I thought I\u2019d say hi. I haven\u2019t seen you in a while. It\u2019s\u2026I heard about what happened. I\u2019m\u2026sorry. But I came by to say that if there\u2019s anything I could do\u2014anything at all? I\u2019m not asking for money. I just came by to say\u2014I\u2014I thought I\u2019d just\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n Her voice trailed off. Octavia stared at the young woman\u2019s back. She didn\u2019t move. She didn\u2019t seem to breathe until Octavia saw her chest move slightly from behind. She walked forwards.<\/p>\n \u201cErin? Are you asleep? Can you\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n Octavia stopped. She saw Erin\u2019s face. The girl\u2019s eyes were open. Her hazel eyes stared ahead. Tears ran from her eyes. They dripped down her face. Ran onto her clothing. Erin didn\u2019t move. She didn\u2019t look at Octavia.<\/p>\n It had been six days since the attack of the Goblin Lord. Six days since the final siege of Liscor. Six days since all the death.<\/p>\n \u201cErin? I\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cErin? Octavia\u2019s here for you. Mrsha\u2019s wondering if you\u2019ll get up.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cErin? I\u2019m so sorry. Can I do anything?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWe\u2019re waiting for you. No one can enter the inn. Erin? Please say something.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cErin?\u201d<\/p>\n She didn\u2019t move. She didn\u2019t speak. Not even when Octavia shook her. She blinked and breathed, and that was all. Salt and water ran from her eyes. And there was little else there.<\/p>\n The tears wouldn\u2019t stop. They would never stop. Erin curled up in her room and didn\u2019t move. Eventually, Lyonette gave up her entreaties. She looked at Octavia, and the two retreated.<\/p>\n \u201cI didn\u2019t know. I thought after six days she\u2019d be at least\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n Octavia trailed off. Lyonette shook her head.<\/p>\n \u201cI thought so too. She barely eats. She only eats because Mrsha stopped eating when she did. After six days\u2014she\u2019s lost friends before. But this time\u2026they fought for her.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI know. No one\u2019s talking about that. They just say the Goblins had a civil war. Or that they fought each other. No one\u2019s talking about the fact that it was her.\u201d<\/p>\n The two stared back into the room. Erin lay there. Mrsha padded into the room. She circled Erin. She reached out and stroked Erin\u2019s hair. Then she lay next to Erin, silent. Lyonette watched Mrsha. After a few minutes, the Gnoll child got up and walked back towards them. She reached up, and Lyonette lifted her up, hugging her. Octavia watched the two silently. Jealous for a second as she saw Mrsha bury her face into Lyonette\u2019s chest and hug her back.<\/p>\n \u201cLet\u2019s leave her alone.\u201d<\/p>\n Lyonette closed the door. She looked at Octavia as they walked back down the stairs. For some reason, she glanced towards the far end of the hall before she walked down. But she said nothing of it.<\/p>\n \u201cShe\u2019ll move in a bit. She always does. But until then, I can\u2019t get her to do anything. Anyways, she shouldn\u2019t really be up for this. It\u2019s nearly time.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cTime for what?\u201d<\/p>\n Octavia was still trying to process Erin\u2019s grief. But then she noticed Lyonette reaching for the thing at her side. Octavia stopped when Lyonette put Mrsha down in the common room and drew her sword.<\/p>\n It was a straight, steel blade. Unadorned and unremarkable. The kind you could get from any [Blacksmith]. But Lyonette held it as if she meant to use it. Her eyes fixed on the door, then she slowly moved towards a table. She placed the sword on the table and pulled up a chair. Then she looked at Octavia.<\/p>\n \u201cThey\u2019re coming.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWho?\u201d<\/p>\n The [Alchemist] looked at the sword, bewildered. But then she heard a sound. A faint shuffling. A bump. Steps from outside. And then a dull, quiet thump<\/em> against the door. She jumped.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat was that?\u201d<\/p>\n Lyonette had just said that no one could come to the inn! So who was that? Octavia stared at the door, but Lyonette made no move to open it. She heard the thump again, louder. Something\u2014someone was bumping against it. Insistently. And then there was another thump, this time from a window to the right of the door. And then another bump. Another.<\/p>\n Something was outside the inn. Somethings<\/em>. Someone. And they were\u2026colliding with the inn. Striking the shutters. Then Octavia heard a sigh and the sound of something hitting the door with a dull, fleshy impact. And it clicked. She backed up, eyes wide.<\/p>\n \u201cThe undead.\u201d<\/p>\n Lyonette nodded. She stared at the door as Mrsha huddled next to her. The Gnoll\u2019s hair was standing up, but she didn\u2019t look too afraid. She\u2019d seen this before. Octavia was terrified. Her breath caught, and her eyes grew round as she stepped backwards, towards the door to her shop.<\/p>\n \u201cDon\u2019t worry, they can\u2019t get in.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBut the undead\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n It had to be them. Octavia was suddenly reminded of a fact of this world. When the dead gather, the undead rise.<\/em> And while graveyards were purified to ensure the remains of the deceased wouldn\u2019t become undead, there was a battlefield\u2019s worth of the dead outside. And by the sounds of it, zombies were converging on the inn as night fell.<\/p>\n Thump. Thump. Thump.<\/em> The sounds came from all sides now as the zombies ran into the inn, some attacking it with their arms and heads, others just running into it. And those were just the audible sounds. Octavia imagined hundreds of bodies silently pressed against the inn, as if they could implode the walls just like that. And maybe they could. This inn was made out of wood, not stone. But Lyonette was focused. Grimly calm.<\/p>\n \u201cErin\u2019s Skills will keep us safe. Just stay quiet and we won\u2019t attract too many. They can\u2019t do anything to get in. Just make sounds.\u201d<\/p>\n The sound was rhythmic, eerie. And worse because the undead truly didn\u2019t make many sounds. Of course, Octavia had heard the classic zombie groaning parodied to her, but these ones didn\u2019t do that. They just sighed, made small sounds. It was terrifying.<\/p>\n \u201cAre you just going to let them stay here? All night long? What if they find a way in? Where are the other adventurers?\u201d<\/p>\n Octavia was unable to keep silent. She knew both adventuring teams! How could they leave Lyonette, Mrsha, and Erin alone? Mrsha looked up. Her tail was twitching each time something struck the inn. Lyonette pointed towards the door.<\/p>\n \u201cThe adventurers? They\u2019re outside.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOut\u2014<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n Lyonette nodded.<\/p>\n \u201cThe Horns are out there. So are the Halfseekers and all the adventurers. They\u2019re killing them by the thousands each day, but there are over a hundred thousand dead bodies out there. Closer to two hundred thousand, maybe. And more keep rising each day.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cTwo hundred thousand.\u201d<\/p>\n Octavia felt like she was repeating everything Lyonette said. Her brown skin grew pale.<\/p>\n \u201cThey can\u2019t get in.\u201d<\/p>\n Lyonette reassured Mrsha and Octavia once more, but Octavia noticed that the sword was bared and never out of Lyonette\u2019s reach. The thumping<\/em> on the windows and groans grew louder as more undead joined the inn. Then the [Alchemist] heard a crash<\/em> as something hit the door. Hard. She jumped.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat was that?<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n This time, Lyonette stood up. She stared at the door as something hit it again, far louder than the zombies. She held up a hand, and Octavia and Mrsha were still.<\/p>\n \u201cGhoul.\u201d<\/p>\n The thing outside rammed the door three times. And then Octavia heard a sound that made her skin crawl. Scuffling. And then the sounds of scratching movement outside. From a window, then higher up.<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s climbing.<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n She looked at Lyonette, terrified. But the [Barmaid] was still calm, if alert. She tracked the thing\u2019s progress up the side of the inn.<\/p>\n \u201cThe roof\u2019s sealed. We boarded it up, and the Antinium say they\u2019ll begin working on rebuilding as soon as the undead presence lessens.\u201d<\/p>\n Still, Lyonette looked wary as she reached for the sword. The crawling thing outside scraped as it climbed higher and higher\u2014and then Octavia heard a crash<\/em> and a heavy impact. She looked at Lyonette, but the [Barmaid] was focused back on the door. There were more impacts, of a different kind this time, from outside, and then a thump<\/em> that Octavia felt in her bones. Silence\u2014and then, to the [Alchemist]\u2019s surprise and relief, a voice.<\/p>\n \u201cLyonette? Are you alright?\u201d<\/p>\n It was Ceria. Octavia vaguely recognized the half-Elf\u2019s voice. Lyonette called out.<\/p>\n \u201cWe are. Did you get it?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYeah. It was a Ghoul trying to climb the inn. We got rid of the zombies too. Pisces is keeping his bear Bone Horror back here. Any sign of cracks? Damage?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNone. We\u2019re fine.\u201d<\/p>\n Octavia heard another voice, muffled. Ceria replied, and then she raised her voice as the sounds of more impacts started up. Someone\u2014the rest of her team probably\u2014was fighting the undead.<\/p>\n \u201cOkay. We\u2019ll be back in an hour. Maybe two. There are more Ghouls tonight. Make sure the windows are closed and locked.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cGot it.\u201d<\/p>\n Ceria didn\u2019t say anything more after that. Octavia heard faint footsteps, then silence. She looked at Lyonette.<\/p>\n \u201cThe Bone Horror\u2019s here. You can\u2019t hear it, but it will guard the inn. We don\u2019t really need it.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBone Horror?\u201d<\/p>\n Octavia said the word uncertainly. She\u2019d heard of such things, but those were higher-level undead. Lyonette nodded.<\/p>\n \u201cPisces made it. It can handle anything that appears. For now. That\u2019s why the adventurers are trying to burn and kill as many undead as possible.\u201d<\/p>\n Mrsha shivered. So did Octavia.<\/p>\n \u201cWorse things than Ghouls appear?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cUsually? No. But on a big battlefield? We can get Crypt Lords, Shamblers, and a lot worse in time. It won\u2019t come to that. Liscor\u2019s making sure the bodies are all disposed of.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOnly Goblin bodies, though, right? I heard they all died here.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMost of them did.\u201d<\/p>\n Lyonette\u2019s eyes were shadowed. She looked upstairs once more. And Octavia was glad that Erin hadn\u2019t come downstairs.<\/p>\n The undead kept rising after that, but the Bone Horror that had been left was defending the inn by the sounds of the occasionally heavy impacts from outside. Lyonette sat with Octavia and Mrsha, listening quietly. Both she and Mrsha were so grim. Octavia tried to liven things up, but she was no good. In the end, she just sat with them. At some point, Lyonette roused herself.<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s about time for Erin to come down.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cShe\u2019s coming down? To eat?\u201d<\/p>\n That startled Octavia, given how unresponsive Erin had been. But Lyonette was already going into the kitchen. She came out with, of all things, a little bit of a stew in a bowl, some bread, buttered, and a few Yellats, fried on one side. The meal was warm and hot, and it made Octavia realize she hadn\u2019t had a decent meal since\u2026breakfast. Yesterday. She\u2019d just eaten whatever she had since then.<\/p>\n Lyonette noticed the rumbling in her stomach. So she went back and got Octavia another plate like it. The [Alchemist] ate hungrily, noticing Lyonette and Mrsha weren\u2019t eating.<\/p>\n \u201cWe had an early dinner.\u201d<\/p>\n And they weren\u2019t much hungry, because Mrsha didn\u2019t even bother trying to steal Octavia\u2019s food. The [Alchemist] polished off her plate and then saw that Lyonette kept glancing towards the stairs. The first plate she\u2019d put out was meant for someone, and sure enough, Lyonette heard a quiet shuffling. And then Erin Solstice walked down the stairs.<\/p>\n \u201cErin! You\u2019re up!\u201d<\/p>\n Octavia was stunned. She scrambled to her feet, but Erin didn\u2019t so much as look at her. She walked downstairs, slowly, and she was still crying. Less, but her eyes were red and swollen. She looked at Lyonette. The [Barmaid] pointed.<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s right here.\u201d<\/p>\n Erin went over to the plate. She took it, and rather than sit, she lifted it and turned right back around. She went towards the stairs, but Lyonette raised her voice.<\/p>\n \u201cHe must be in the basement again. I checked his room earlier. He wasn\u2019t there.\u201d<\/p>\n Erin turned towards the trap door to the basement. Octavia and Lyonette hurried over and helped open the trap door. Erin maneuvered down the stairs, refusing to let them take the plate. She turned, and Lyonette handed her a lantern. Erin looked around. For the first time, she seemed to come alive. Her voice croaked.<\/p>\n \u201cHello?\u201d<\/p>\n Octavia heard a pained note in her voice. She saw a desperate look in Erin\u2019s eye. The [Innkeeper] called out, coughing on her tears. She looked around.<\/p>\n \u201cHello? Are you there?\u201d<\/p>\n For a second, there was naught but silence. Octavia thought that if there was one thing keeping Erin together, even enough to do this much, it was this. Her hand shook on the plate. The lantern light wobbled as it moved across the basement. And then it stopped. A solitary figure was sitting against the back wall. The light illuminated it. Erin called out, desperately, her voice breaking.<\/p>\n And the Goblin opened his eyes.<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n \u2014\u2014<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n He had been dreaming. It was the same dream, played a thousand times. Ten thousand.<\/p>\n Somewhere on a hilltop, a Goblin stood. He stared up at the night sky. The stars shone down on him. The grass was soft underfoot. And he was smiling.<\/em><\/p>\n The Goblin was there too. He was there. They were all there. They filled the hill. It had no end. And neither did they. Male and female. Tall and small. Hobgoblin, Goblin. Children. Adults. Warriors and those who had only picked up a sword. Cave Goblins. Redfangs. Goblins wearing black armor.<\/em><\/p>\n The Goblin Lord. From every tribe, they stood together, looking up. At the twin moons that hung in the night sky. At each other. A breeze blew soundlessly over the hill, making the grass ripple. The Goblin who dreamed could not feel it. But the Goblins looked up. And they walked off the hill and into the sky.<\/em><\/p>\n At first, it was a handful. And then it was more. The waiting Goblins looked at each other. The Goblin looked around and saw a familiar face.<\/em><\/p>\n Headscratcher. Had he known him? It felt like he had. But in this place, all Goblins knew each other. He looked past him and saw a tall Hob crouching next to a Goblin whose eyes shone red. He looked sad, but as he turned, another Goblin walked up the hill. As tall as a legend. His teeth flashed, and his red war paint stood out. Garen Redfang stood next to his brother.<\/em><\/p>\n Reiss. And Eater of Spears looked back. The Goblin knew him too. The Hobgoblin raised a claw. He spoke a word. And then he vanished.<\/em><\/p>\n They were leaving. Garen and Reiss were next. They looked back, straight at the Goblin. And there was a silent moment in which Garen raised his hand and made a fist, and Reiss bowed. Then they too vanished.<\/em><\/p>\n Like mist. Like memory, already fading. Headscratcher stared up at the stars. He looked back, and more Goblins walked forwards and vanished. He smiled once. Softly. Regrets, sorrow, and a quiet calm ran through that one smile. He reached back, and the Goblin reached for him. But Headscratcher just shook his head. He said something.<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cWait.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n And then he turned and walked ahead. The Goblin watched him go. More Goblins were disappearing. The hill was growing emptier. More faces turned back to him, some laughing, others calling out.<\/em><\/p>\n Wait.<\/em><\/p>\n But how could you wait? They were all going. Spiderslicer was next. Noears shrugged and pointed ahead, clapping his hands. Hobgoblins and children followed. Too many to count.<\/em><\/p>\n Tens of thousands of Goblins, walking past them. Vanishing into the air. A river, a torrent. And then a trickle. The last to go was a Hobgoblin who sat on the hill, staring back rather than ahead. He was reluctant. But at last, Shorthilt stood. And the Goblins who remained and watched him were two.<\/em><\/p>\n He was missing his sword. Shorthilt grumbled, but there was no help for it. He looked back and reached out. He touched both of them, clasping their arms. Wishing them well. Then, with infinite reluctance, he walked forwards. And he was gone.<\/em><\/p>\n And then it was just the last two of them. Pyrite and Numbtongue looked at each other. Which was which? For a moment, they didn\u2019t know. They had been everyone for a moment. Every Goblin on the hill. Only now, as the last one left, did they become themselves. They stood together.<\/em><\/p>\n Neither one showed the wounds they had taken. But they felt them. Each one, weighing them down. It didn\u2019t hurt like pain. But it was a reminder. And with each second, the wind blew harder. Calling them away. But only one. The two met each other\u2019s eyes.<\/em><\/p>\n They had never seen each other. But they knew each other. They knew everything in a moment. And Numbtongue smiled, and Pyrite bent and tried to eat the grass.<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cGood song.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cNice axe.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n That was it. That was all you could say. The two looked at each other. Then they grew quiet and looked up. The sky called them. Both wanted to walk into that oblivion. But they also wanted to stay.<\/em><\/p>\n They looked back. At each other. Numbtongue was so very tired. Pyrite lowered his head, and the weight of the world pressed down on him.<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cI tried.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n That was all Numbtongue could say. He looked up at Pyrite.<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cI tried. We did it. She lived.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n Pyrite nodded. He reached out and squeezed Numbtongue\u2019s shoulder gently. The Hobgoblin wiped at his eyes. Pyrite looked towards the sky.<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cTell her I\u2019m sorry. I\u2019m tired.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n The two turned and began walking together. Off the hill. Higher and higher. At first, they walked together. But then one fell behind. The other reached for him.<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cHere. Take it with you.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n And they offered their hand. The Goblin reached for it and felt the warmth. He looked up\u2014and he was alone. Alone, he felt himself falling. And then\u2014and then\u2014<\/em><\/p>\n He woke up. In pain. In darkness. A light, bright and mortal, hurt his eyes. The Goblin shielded his face.<\/p>\n \u201cHello? Are you there?\u201d<\/p>\n A female voice, cracked and broken, called out to him. He saw a figure standing by the stairs. Saw a lantern\u2019s light. The Goblin tried to sit up. His body felt unfamiliar. Heavy. He looked up as Erin walked forwards.<\/p>\n \u201cHello?\u201d<\/p>\n Numbtongue looked up. His red eyes flashed in the darkness, lit up by the lantern\u2019s glow. He looked around, but Pyrite was gone. They were all gone. And he was there. Lying in a dirty basement.<\/p>\n The broken guitar lay at his feet. Erin stopped when she saw Numbtongue. Her eyes went to him. She was crying. Numbtongue stared at her. He said nothing. There was nothing to say.<\/p>\n The music was gone.<\/p>\n He was alone.<\/p>\n \u201cFood.\u201d<\/p>\n That was all Erin said. She bent down and put the plate in front of Numbtongue. He could smell it. He didn\u2019t respond. Erin looked down at him.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n There was nothing to say. She turned away, tears falling. Numbtongue watched her go. He moved his legs.<\/p>\n Painfully. His body wouldn\u2019t move right. There was a scar on his chest. A wound. A spear had gone straight through him. He should be dead. But he remembered a stranger telling him to live.<\/p>\n Live.<\/em><\/p>\n He drew his knees up to his chest. Numbtongue slowly began to rock back and forth. He tried to hum, but there was no song in him. No music. So he just sat there, rocking back and forth, staring at the untouched meal. Back and forth. Waiting. But no matter how many times, the dream never changed. The memory endured. And Pyrite reached out.<\/p>\n \u201cTell her I\u2019m sorry. I\u2019m tired.\u201d<\/p>\n The Hobgoblin closed his eyes. But he couldn\u2019t cry. There were no tears. No words. Just him. Alone. So the Hobgoblin closed his eyes and went back there. To that living memory. Fading, faded with each passing second. And he tried to stop them. But they were already\u2026<\/p>\n Gone.<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n \u2014\u2014<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n Night. And then day. The eighth day after the death of the Goblin Lord, a few Drakes gathered for a conference in Liscor\u2019s city hall. They chatted quietly, looking out across the city.<\/p>\n \u201cCremation\u2019s getting trickier without wood to fuel the fires. We\u2019re taking from our stockpiles, breaking down a few wagons, but we\u2019re having to use magic rather than wood. The [Mages] are complaining.\u201d<\/p>\n Watch Captain Zevara was speaking with Ilvriss. The Wall Lord was nodding as Olesm quietly wrote down the tallies of last night\u2019s undead suppression by the adventurers and City Watch. Embria was absent; she was still out in the Floodplains, exterminating the zombies and gathering corpses to be burned with her soldiers.<\/p>\n \u201cWe have no choice. As for the smell\u2014I know the residents are unhappy, but again, this is a priority task. We\u2019re over halfway done as it stands.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat was my opinion as well. There\u2019s not much to do other than rotate the [Mages] and tell the people we\u2019re working as hard as we can.\u201d<\/p>\n Ilvriss nodded.<\/p>\n \u201cThese things happen. Cleanup after a battle is never popular, Watch Captain. But I think any level-headed citizen will understand the need.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIf I find any, I\u2019ll be sure to appreciate that fact.\u201d<\/p>\n The two shared a quiet chuckle. Olesm looked up and then back down at his work. Ilvriss paused and glanced at the door.<\/p>\n \u201cAh. Shieldscale. Come in.\u201d<\/p>\n A Drake saluted at the entrance to the meeting room. She strode into the room, walking with military posture. Olesm glanced up at her. Zevara noted the pair of wings on the Drake. She was unfamiliar. Her scales were a bright, almost too-bright blue. She was clearly a soldier and was armed as such. More importantly, Zevara noticed the acrid tang in the air as she drew closer.<\/p>\n If she was right, this Drake had the ability to breathe some kind of weapon\u2014probably acid. That made her an Oldblood Drake with both wings and<\/em> a breath weapon. The rarest of all combinations. Zevara couldn\u2019t help but stand a bit straighter as this Drake saluted her and Ilvriss.<\/p>\n \u201cWatch Captain. Wall Lord. I have the official reports from the Walled Cities about the engagement at the Blood Fields. For your perusal.\u201d<\/p>\n She offered a report, copied twice, to Zevara and Ilvriss. They read theirs as the Drake went over and gave Olesm a copy. Ilvriss read with distaste and then shook his head.<\/p>\n \u201cDisgusting. Of course the Humans are calling it a victory. These numbers\u2014and they\u2019re claiming this is the official report? They\u2019ve shaved off numbers.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019re sure?\u201d<\/p>\n Zevara studied the report with dismay. Reading it, you could infer that the losses weren\u2019t that bad. But Ilvriss just looked disgusted.<\/p>\n \u201cI read Salazsar\u2019s<\/em> report of the battle. We can count. In numbers alone, that damned Veltras won. We pulled back too many of our elites when it was clear Liscor wasn\u2019t in danger. I told them that was a mistake. We sent three [Generals]\u2014good ones, but hardly our best\u2014and paid for it. His soldiers were more elite, and with the nobility and officers he brought\u2014disgusting. And this<\/em> is what we\u2019re claiming? A \u2018partial victory\u2019?\u201d<\/p>\n He tossed his report onto the table. Zevara sighed as she did likewise. She nodded to the Drake, who\u2019d assumed a patient posture, hands folded behind her back.<\/p>\n \u201cThank you, um\u2026Captain?\u201d<\/p>\n Zevara had to guess since the Drake wasn\u2019t wearing her military insignia. Ilvriss looked up.<\/p>\n \u201cAh, that would be Major<\/em> Shieldscale, Watch Captain Zevara. I think I mentioned her to you?\u201d<\/p>\n Zevara vaguely recalled this particular Drake popping up in conversation a few days ago. Ilvriss nodded.<\/p>\n \u201cAs I said, her lineage is a long-time friend of the family. She\u2019ll be serving as my aide in a more\u2026combative role than my other adjutants.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhere are you from, Major Shieldscale?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSalazsar, Watch Captain. Born and raised in the gemstone capital.\u201d<\/p>\n Ilvriss winced slightly as the Major replied. Zevara nodded. That was Salazsar for you. She looked at the Wall Lord, and he cleared his throat.<\/p>\n \u201cAsrira here came with a detachment bound for Liscor. When the siege was lifted, she elected to continue on alone while the rest of her unit was recalled. I needed support, and Major Shieldscale is an accomplished warrior who\u2019s served with distinction for over half a decade.\u201d<\/p>\n To Zevara\u2019s knowledge, Ilvriss already had nearly a dozen helpers. But she nodded. Wall Lords loved their retinues.<\/p>\n \u201cDoes that mean your sojourn in Liscor is coming to a close, Wall Lord Ilvriss?\u201d<\/p>\n She couldn\u2019t think of any other reason he\u2019d be requesting reinforcements. Ilvriss nodded. And Zevara felt a pang. She might actually miss him. For all he had been difficult to work with at the start, it had been very reassuring to have a Wall Lord on her side.<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s correct, Watch Captain. I\u2019ve stayed here far too long as it is. Not that there wasn\u2019t need\u2014but I am of Salazsar, and I\u2019ve been away from home for too long.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s a long way from here to Salazsar, though. Will you be travelling via Pallass?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIf it can be arranged. They\u2019re still denying me entry, which I have every right to\u2014but I\u2019ll lean on them as much as I need to.\u201d<\/p>\n Ilvriss grimaced.<\/p>\n \u201cAt this point, I\u2019m almost tempted to make the trip on foot rather than keep negotiating with Pallass. But the Blood Fields have just been fed, which makes a journey south quite unwise.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIndeed. Um, I expect the Council will insist on celebrating you before you go. You might want to give them the heads up\u2014or leave before they can arrange anything.\u201d<\/p>\n Ilvriss stroked his chin.<\/p>\n \u201cI could hardly be so rude. And it occurs to me that a funded celebration would do Liscor good. What with\u2026all that has occurred. Things are finally looking up, aren\u2019t they?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIt seems that way.\u201d<\/p>\n The two Drakes fell silent. Major Shieldscale waited as Olesm continued to work. They looked out across Zevara\u2019s city. And she agreed largely with what Ilvriss had said.<\/p>\n The siege of Liscor was over. Before it had begun, really. But all the stress and fear that had gripped the city was gone, and that was a relief in itself. She\u2019d been preparing to fight to the last to hold Liscor. Now\u2014well, the eastern gate was still destroyed, and there were cracks in the wall that would have to be repaired and fortified before the spring rains came again, not to mention the undead still roaming about the Floodplains and the risk of so many bodies rotting\u2026<\/p>\n But it was over. Liscor was safe. And its people were happy.<\/p>\n There had even been a celebration. A small one, but it reflected the mood of the city, and that was one of relief. Yes, everything was looking up. Zevara thought about smiling. But it didn\u2019t seem to quite come onto her face when she willed it.<\/p>\n Ilvriss looked speculative rather than in a good mood. He stared across the city as the sun rose, illuminating the bright rooftops.<\/p>\n \u201cOnly a few issues left, I should imagine. One of them being the trial. I assume your prisoner hasn\u2019t given you any trouble?\u201d<\/p>\n Trial?<\/em> It took Zevara a second to remember what Ilvriss meant. Her brows darkened, and her tail curled up a bit.<\/p>\n \u201cOh, the Minotaur? No trouble out of him. We\u2019re preparing for the trial\u2014we\u2019d have done it earlier, but the witnesses needed time to rest and what with the Goblins\u2026but we\u2019ll start the proceedings soon.\u201d<\/p>\n And that would be that. Zevara still had to deal with the dungeon, but she swore to herself that the Raskghar would never trouble the walls again. Nor would they ever reach them, not with the waters gone. In the mud, they\u2019d have as much chance of taking the city\u2014even in the daytime with the gates open\u2014as Zevara had of flying.<\/p>\n \u201cGood, good. I doubt I\u2019ll be there for the trial unless I\u2019m truly delayed, but I\u2019ll provide any written testimony should it be necessary. As for the rest\u2026it only remains\u2026I suppose it\u2019s just the inn.\u201d<\/p>\n Zevara looked up. The quiet scratching<\/em> of Olesm\u2019s quill went silent for a second. Major Shieldscale kept staring ahead. But the other three Drakes paused. Ilvriss cleared his throat. He turned his gaze and looked east. The Wandering Inn wasn\u2019t visible from here. But he looked nonetheless. And his tone was\u2026different.<\/p>\n \u201cI don\u2019t suppose there\u2019s been any word from the inn, has there? The doors are\u2026?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s still closed.\u201d<\/p>\n Olesm replied flatly. Ilvriss glanced at him. He nodded slowly. Cleared his throat again.<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s not that I mind, but she does <\/em>have the one working door to Pallass. And I gather that these plays have attracted a good deal of interest from Liscor\u2019s citizenry, especially now we\u2019re no longer operating in a crisis. There\u2019s talk of enlisting in the, ah, acting troupe. It could be a new form of entertainment and revenue for Liscor, which is always to be desired.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat would be helpful.\u201d<\/p>\n Zevara glanced at Olesm. But he was working again. She stared at the eastern wall. The inn was closed. Erin Solstice hadn\u2019t been spotted in a week now, and no one could so much as get near her inn. And it wasn\u2019t that Zevara wanted to see her. Her life was far, far<\/em> easier when she didn\u2019t see that blasted Human. And yet\u2014<\/p>\n Seven days had passed. The city was upbeat, it really was. People were getting back to work, they were enthusiastic about the sun, relieved not to be dead or under siege\u2014it was all great. But rather than call the mood jubilant, Zevara felt the same sensation that seemed to have gripped the city. That of\u2026waiting.<\/p>\n Waiting. What they wanted, what a lot of Liscor wanted, was just to see the doors open. To hear that annoying voice saying something inane, see a bright smile. But the inn was silent. The doors did not open, no matter how long anyone waited.<\/p>\n Yes, Goblins had died. But in a way, they\u2019d saved the day. And yes, bad things had happened. But Liscor had triumphed. It was good, in the end. It was a victory. Everyone knew it. The Human, that crazy [Innkeeper], Erin, would be sad. She might be angry, and she had every right to be. She could be depressed, grieve, but in time, she would return to normal. Liscor had triumphed. All would be well. And everyone knew<\/em> that.<\/p>\n They were just waiting for her to confirm it.<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n \u2014\u2014<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n On the eighth day, Numbtongue looked up. He reached out and picked up the broken guitar. He looked down at it. Then he tossed it aside and stood up.<\/p>\n He didn\u2019t feel any better. He still felt dead. A ghost. And he still dreamed that he\u2019d see Headscratcher poke his head down from above and tell him to get moving. Hear Shorthilt stomp on the floorboards or hear the chatter of Cave Goblins. But time had passed. And part of Numbtongue couldn\u2019t even believe in that lie anymore.<\/p>\n It still hurt too. With every passing second, Numbtongue thought the tears in his heart would open up and swallow him whole. They hurt more than his wounds. But still, he stood.<\/p>\n It wasn\u2019t that he was better. It was just that he couldn\u2019t sit any longer. Eight days he\u2019d sat. It was enough. The pain wasn\u2019t going away from sitting. It never would.<\/p>\n So Numbtongue stumbled forwards. He kicked something by accident, nearly slipped. The plate of food. It overturned, and Numbtongue looked at it. He bent to pick it up and nearly fell over. He was dizzy. He hadn\u2019t eaten in\u2026<\/p>\n It didn\u2019t matter. Numbtongue picked up the dishes. He wasn\u2019t hungry. He slowly walked towards the stairs and trapdoor. He could hear voices from above. For a second, he paused and hoped. But they weren\u2019t the right ones. Goblins didn\u2019t speak that much, anyways.<\/p>\n \u201c\u2014just disgusting work. It feels like I\u2019m working in a suppression company in Baleros again. Why can\u2019t you get your undead minions to handle all of it, Pisces? Or do that neck-snapping thing and settle things that way.\u201d<\/p>\n Jelaqua was talking to Pisces as she slumped over her table. Lyonette was quietly serving breakfast. The adventuring teams\u2014the Horns of Hammerad and the Halfseekers\u2014were eating quietly. They were subdued. Even Jelaqua, normally energetic, was only partly invested in her conversation. The [Necromancer] she was addressing, Pisces, paused in dabbing his mouth with his sleeve.<\/p>\n \u201cTwo reasons. Firstly, because my undead cannot function long without consuming a great deal of mana. They are quite limited in number as well. Secondly, even if I broke the necks of every zombie out there, they would continue to rise. Breaking the bones of the undead stops them for a short time, but nothing short of immolation or pure destruction will\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI get it. I was just asking.\u201d<\/p>\n Jelaqua sighed. She tried to smile at Mrsha. The Gnoll cub was eating breakfast quietly.<\/p>\n \u201cHey there. Sleepy, Mrsha? You\u2019re not racing about.\u201d<\/p>\n The Gnoll looked up and shook her head. Jelaqua\u2019s grin faltered.<\/p>\n \u201cMaybe we should let you run about in Celum?\u201d<\/p>\n No response. Mrsha just went back to eating. Jelaqua looked around. Moore and Seborn, sitting at her table, gave her slow shakes of the head. The Selphid let it drop.<\/p>\n At the other table, Ceria looked at her companions. Yvlon, Ksmvr, Pisces\u2026they were all quiet. A night of fighting had made them tired, but this wasn\u2019t like them. But she couldn\u2019t tell them to snap out of it. It didn\u2019t feel right.<\/p>\n And yet they hadn\u2019t grieved. Not like Erin was. Ceria hadn\u2019t shed more than a few tears. She couldn\u2019t, though she\u2019d known the Goblins. And yet, she couldn\u2019t smile either.<\/p>\n Ceria tried. Yvlon looked up to see Ceria\u2019s attempt at a smile. She stopped eating. Ceria gave up. She looked around, but Erin hadn\u2019t come down for breakfast again. Maybe today was the day to give her a kick and some tough love. She had to snap out of this eventually. How long was she going to be like this? She had to\u2014<\/p>\n The trap door opened. Ceria turned. Her fork fell from her fingers. It clattered on the table. Pisces looked up. Then he turned as well.<\/p>\n The room fell silent. Numbtongue paused as he pushed the trap door up. He stared around. Slowly, he climbed up into the inn. He placed the plate and bowl on the table and looked around.<\/p>\n A red scar stood out on his chest. Half of his body looked\u2026paler. The remnants of lightning. Aside from that, he looked like he always had. Numbtongue. But it was Numbtongue. And the others were\u2026<\/p>\n Numbtongue stopped as he stepped out into the light. He had been prepared for something. But this was worse.<\/p>\n It was the stares. All of them, adventurers, Lyonette, Mrsha\u2014they all stared at Numbtongue. They froze and gazed at him like they\u2019d seen a ghost. That was painful, but it was the second look that cut deeper. Pity. He saw it reflected in their eyes. And he hated them for it.<\/p>\n Pity was even worse.<\/p>\n \u201cMorning.\u201d<\/p>\n Numbtongue could have laughed at the way their expressions changed. He almost did, but he didn\u2019t. He looked to Lyonette.<\/p>\n \u201cHere.\u201d<\/p>\n He offered her the plates and bowl. Lyonette noticed the spilled food.<\/p>\n \u201cOh. Didn\u2019t you like\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cTripped. Not hungry.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI can get you something else if you\u2019d\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n Numbtongue hated it. The awkward conversation, the painful misunderstandings and imprecise words. That was why he didn\u2019t speak. And the way Lyonette clearly seemed to regret asking about breakfast. As if she should have said something about\u2014about\u2014<\/p>\n Numbtongue hadn\u2019t seen them. He didn\u2019t remember anything. Not after being stabbed. He didn\u2019t know how it had ended. Until Lyonette told him. So he walked towards the door. It was closed.<\/p>\n \u201cWhoa. Hey!\u201d<\/p>\n Jelaqua shot to her feet. She stepped out in front of him. Numbtongue looked at her. Jelaqua gave him a desperate smile.<\/p>\n \u201cHey! Numbtongue! Why don\u2019t you take a seat? Unless you want to use the outhouse? That\u2019s cool, but, uh\u2014why don\u2019t you let us make sure there\u2019s no one outside? Just one second. Moore!\u201d<\/p>\n She snapped. Moore pushed back his chair hurriedly. Seborn was already on his feet. Numbtongue looked from face to face.<\/p>\n \u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWell\u2014let\u2019s just say it isn\u2019t a good time to go out. Uh, unless you need that outhouse.\u201d<\/p>\n Jelaqua waved her arms at her companions. Numbtongue tried to get around her. She blocked him.<\/p>\n \u201cHold on. Okay?\u201d<\/p>\n He tried to walk past her, but she held her arm out. The Selphid backed up, and her desperate smile vanished. She took a deep breath.<\/p>\n \u201cThere are a lot of\u2026a lot of undead out there. You might be mistaken for one. And it\u2019s unwise to go out anyways. Because\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n She trailed off. Numbtongue waited. Jelaqua looked around. In the end, she had to say it.<\/p>\n \u201cBecause it\u2019s dangerous. For you.\u201d<\/p>\n Because he was a Goblin<\/em>. The news hit Numbtongue like a brick in the chest. He staggered and nearly sat down. Jelaqua reached for him. Numbtongue knocked her hand away.<\/p>\n \u201cMove.\u201d<\/p>\n He brushed past her. Jelaqua half-grabbed for him and then gave up. Numbtongue reached the door. He found it was barred. He took off the door bar, flung open the door.<\/p>\n And he stopped.<\/p>\n Mud covered the Floodplains. Mud and water. The rains were gone. The grasses dead. It was just mud as far as the eye could see. Mud, water.<\/p>\n And Goblins.<\/p>\n There they lay. Green bodies. Goblins wearing black armor. Carn Wolves, dotting the ground. Dead. They covered a small part of the Floodplains, really. A large battlefield and then\u2014a stream of bodies fallen as they\u2019d fled towards Liscor. And then broken north, towards the mountains. Dead bodies.<\/p>\n And the undead. They roamed the hills and valleys, sometimes falling, crawling, standing. Lifeless faces, already rotting. Goblins.<\/p>\n Part of Numbtongue wasn\u2019t surprised. Part of him, a dreadful part, wasn\u2019t even shocked by the sight. He was a warrior. He knew what to expect. But the rest of him\u2026hurt.<\/p>\n Just hurt. And Numbtongue was ashamed beyond belief that it didn\u2019t hurt more. But it couldn\u2019t. Eight days had passed. A week. He knew what had happened.<\/p>\n They were dead. He was alive. That was all there was to it.<\/p>\n \u201cNumbtongue?\u201d<\/p>\n The Hobgoblin turned. He saw Lyonette standing in the doorway. The others were standing behind him, staring at Numbtongue or away. None of them knew what to say. As if what they could say mattered<\/em>. Numbtongue looked at them. Then he walked back inside.<\/p>\n \u201cUh\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cErin.\u201d<\/p>\n The Goblin looked at Lyonette. She blinked and hesitated.<\/p>\n \u201cShe\u2019s upstairs. But\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n Numbtongue strode towards the stairs. Anxiously, Lyonette followed him. The Hobgoblin nearly tripped going up the stairs and had to catch the handrail to steady himself. His stomach rumbled. He pushed himself up and ignored Lyonette. He had to see her. He had to know. Was she\u2014<\/p>\n She was there. In the room. Curled up. Weeping silently. Numbtongue stared at her and sagged against the doorframe in relief. She was alive. That was all. They\u2019d done it. They\u2019d\u2014<\/p>\n There was no satisfaction. Erin was alive, but Headscratcher was dead. So was Shorthilt. Rabbiteater and Badarrow? The Cave Goblins were dead. They were all gone. It wasn\u2019t enough. And that was a bitter truth for Numbtongue.<\/p>\n But she was still here. Numbtongue stumbled forwards. Erin didn\u2019t respond, even though she had surely heard him come in.<\/p>\n For a second, Numbtongue just looked down at her. He looked at her tears. And he clenched his hand into a fist. And for the first time, the numbness in him began to shift.<\/p>\n \u201cErin.\u201d<\/p>\n She reacted to the sound of his voice. Erin turned. Slowly. Her eyes widened when she saw him.<\/p>\n \u201cNumb\u2026?\u201d<\/p>\n She coughed. Uncurled painfully. Sat up. She tried to stand and pushed herself up from the mattress. She stood up, wobbling like Numbtongue. She looked at him. And her eyes overflowed.<\/p>\n But\u2014Numbtongue noticed\u2014Erin\u2019s cheeks weren\u2019t wet. Her eyes were red, but she hadn\u2019t been crying outright. She was now.<\/p>\n \u201cNumbtongue.\u201d<\/p>\n Erin stepped towards Numbtongue. She halted.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m so sorry. I\u2019m so\u2014so sorry.\u201d<\/p>\n Numbtongue felt a shock run through him. He looked at Erin. She was crying now. But all he felt was anger.<\/p>\n \u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n It surprised her. For a second, Erin\u2019s tears stopped. She gulped.<\/p>\n \u201cBecause I did it. I asked you to\u2014I did this. I\u2019m so sorry. I should never have\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n She broke up, wiping her face. Numbtongue stared at her. He looked at his hands. At his chest. And he was angry.<\/p>\n \u201cWe chose to stay. We fought. And we died. This was our choice. Not yours.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBut I asked\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n Erin wiped at her eyes.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m\u2014I\u2019m sorry. I know you chose. But all of them. Headscratcher. And Shorthilt and\u2026so many.\u201d<\/p>\n Garen. Spiderslicer. Eater of Spears. Reiss. <\/em>The list rolled endlessly in Numbtongue\u2019s head. A hundred thousand faces flashed before him. And still he did not weep. He looked at Erin, saw her sob once.<\/p>\n Just once. And that was it. Numbtongue looked down at his front. He touched the red scar of the spear on his chest. Felt the pain. But it was shallow. He dug a nail into it, watched blood start to flow. It wasn\u2019t anything close to real pain.<\/p>\n \u201cNumbtongue!\u201d<\/p>\n Erin saw. She grabbed at his hand. Numbtongue shook her off. He saw her red eyes. But he also saw the truth. She\u2019d stopped crying. Maybe yesterday. Maybe this morning. But whenever it had been, the tears had stopped. They flowed now, but only a few. And in Numbtongue, there was emptiness. Pain, but not enough.<\/p>\n It didn\u2019t hurt enough. Not anymore. Time had already taken the pain away. Numbtongue tried to conjure the desolation, the all-consuming despair and grief he\u2019d felt the first few days. But it was stale. Hollow. He couldn\u2019t cry. And that hurt most of all.<\/p>\n \u201cDon\u2019t. Please. I\u2019m so sorry<\/em>. If I could do anything\u2014you have to stay here. In your room. If anyone sees you\u2014I won\u2019t let them come near the inn. I promise.\u201d<\/p>\n Erin clung to Numbtongue, hugging him. He looked down at her, feeling her warm embrace. Stay here? He heard her words vaguely, took in the meaning. And he tensed.<\/p>\n Any Goblin would have known what Numbtongue thought in that moment. Any one of them. Headscratcher, Shorthilt, Rabbiteater, Badarrow\u2014or a Cave Goblin, or Reiss. Anyone. But there was no one anymore. No other Goblin to read his unspoken thoughts. No one to know how he felt. So Numbtongue spoke.<\/p>\n \u201cAre you ashamed of us?\u201d<\/p>\n Erin jerked. She froze up and looked at Numbtongue.<\/p>\n \u201cNo. Never.<\/em> Why would you\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBecause. You. You are here. You want me to stay here.\u201d<\/p>\n Numbtongue reached down. He grabbed Erin\u2019s hands. Squeezed them.<\/p>\n \u201cI should stay here? Hide? We did nothing wrong.\u201d<\/p>\n Nothing. He remembered running with the others. Laughing. Charging together. Erin gulped.<\/p>\n \u201cBut if they try to kill you again\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cLet them. I did nothing wrong. You are crying here. But it doesn\u2019t matter. I\u2014we\u2014deserve better. We did nothing wrong<\/em>. Why are you hiding?\u201d<\/p>\n He looked at her. Erin struggled for words. Numbtongue turned away abruptly.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m going.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhere? Numbtongue!\u201d<\/p>\n She tried to stop him. But in the end, she was weaker than he was. That was one of the reasons why he loved her. Because she was strong while being weak. But she wasn\u2019t strong now. He was disappointed in her. In all of them.<\/p>\n Numbtongue came down the stairs. The adventurers looked at him. One of them, Ceria, stood up.<\/p>\n \u201cNumbtongue. We\u2019re\u2014I\u2019m\u2014so sorry about what happened. What you did was heroic. If there\u2019s anything\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n The same words. Numbtongue gave Ceria a long stare that froze the words on the half-Elf\u2019s tongue.<\/p>\n Sorry. <\/em>They were sorry. That wasn\u2019t the point! Numbtongue wanted to smash one of the tables. He wanted to rage. But something else burned hotter in him. He looked around. And then he strode for the door.<\/p>\n \u201cNumbtongue!<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n The magic door stood in front of Numbtongue. He plucked Celum\u2019s mana stone from it, tossed it to one side. He reached for Liscor\u2019s stone, placed it on the door. Then he reached for the handle.<\/p>\n Hands grabbed him. Numbtongue turned. Jelaqua had hold of him. So did Yvlon. And Erin.<\/p>\n \u201cDon\u2019t! They\u2019ll attack you!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSo?\u201d<\/p>\n There was nothing they could do to him that was worse. Numbtongue looked at Erin. She didn\u2019t understand. He reached down and tugged her hands off his arm.<\/p>\n \u201cWe won. We did nothing wrong. I will not hide.\u201d<\/p>\n Erin looked up at him desperately. Numbtongue bent. He looked Erin in the eyes.<\/p>\n \u201cWhy are you crying here?<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n He heard her intake of breath. Then he tore away from Jelaqua and Yvlon. He opened the door. And he ran through into the city.<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n \u2014\u2014<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n \u201cGoblin in the city!<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cCall the Watch!\u201d<\/p>\n Zevara raced down the street, hearing the shouts ahead of her. Dozens of [Guards] converged on the street where the screams and cries were coming from. She knew, without even having to look, what she\u2019d find.<\/p>\n A Hobgoblin stood in the streets of Liscor. Unarmed. Bare chested. Honestly, barely standing on his two legs. Of course, for anyone who hadn\u2019t ever seen a Goblin, it was probably a terrifying sight. His sharp teeth, his crimson eyes, the green skin\u2014it was the image of a monster.<\/p>\n And yet, Zevara recognized this one. He didn\u2019t have his guitar. But she knew him. And as she skidded to a stop, she threw up a hand.<\/p>\n \u201cHold your ground! Wait for my order or I will rip your tails off with my bare claws!<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n She screamed at the City Watch who\u2019d surrounded the Hobgoblin, forming a ring of steel around him. And the doorway that led to The Wandering Inn. It was embarrassing, but for a second when she saw it, Zevara\u2019s heart leapt a bit in her chest. But then she covered the feeling with anger and annoyance. What was Erin thinking?<\/p>\n \u201cNo one move!\u201d<\/p>\n Another voice rang out, silencing more of the panicked shouts. Liscor\u2019s citizenry had fled the instant Numbtongue had come through the door, but with dozens of the City Watch on the scene and now Wall Lord Ilvriss striding forwards, they returned to stare. The Hobgoblin looked around. He looked\u2014well, confused was the best word for it. He stared at Zevara and then went to looking around the city, completely ignoring the weapons trained on his chest.<\/p>\n \u201cDon\u2019t shoot! Don\u2019t shoot! He\u2019s one of the good Goblins! Aw, damn it\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n A Selphid emerged from the doorway, holding up her hands. Jelaqua Ivirith, in a Human\u2019s body, appeared on the scene. Zevara didn\u2019t recognize her, but the voice and, more importantly, the pale body were the keys. She glared at the Selphid.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat the hell are you doing?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHe opened the door, not us! Don\u2019t shoot!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHold your fire on my order!\u201d<\/p>\n Zevara repeated her instructions just in case more of the City Watch arriving by the moment hadn\u2019t gotten the message. Ilvriss raised his voice.<\/p>\n \u201cAnd mine. Hold your ground!\u201d<\/p>\n The Drakes and Gnolls shifted a bit uneasily. Not so much out of fear of the Hobgoblin\u2014they could see the same thing Zevara could\u2014but at the incongruity of the situation. Here was a Goblin. They killed Goblins. But this<\/em> Goblin\u2014<\/p>\n They had to get it back through the doorway before more people arrived.<\/em> Zevara saw more people gathering, drawn by the screams. They stared at the Hob and pointed at Numbtongue. She cursed.<\/p>\n \u201cWhere\u2019s Relc?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHere.\u201d<\/p>\n Relc walked forwards. Zevara turned, ready to curse at him, but she stopped when she saw he was followed closely by Embria. Relc didn\u2019t seem as upbeat as usual. He stared at Numbtongue.<\/p>\n \u201cA Hobgoblin in the city?\u201d<\/p>\n Embria\u2019s tail lashed. She looked at Zevara.<\/p>\n \u201cWe can force him back through the door.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s my intention. Relc, push the Goblin back and close that door before we have more witnesses. I\u2019ll speak to Miss Solstice\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n Relc folded his arms. Zevara paused. Embria stared at her father.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat<\/em> did you say, Senior Guardsman?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m not doing it. Find someone else.\u201d<\/p>\n It took a second for Zevara to process what Relc had said. He was refusing? For all he was lazy, egotistical, and undisciplined, he\u2019d never refused an order in his life. She snapped at him.<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019re a Senior Guardsman under my command. Failure to obey means\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI know what it means. I\u2019m. Not. Doing. It. He\u2019s not doing anything wrong.\u201d<\/p>\n Relc looked past Zevara at Numbtongue. The Hobgoblin was just looking around. He stared at the Drakes and Gnolls behind the City Watch. They were staring at him as warily as he was watching them.<\/p>\n A Goblin.<\/em> Of course they\u2019d seen the battlefield, if not during the siege then after. They had to know what a Hobgoblin looked like. And they knew what had happened. There was a strange feeling in the air. Not hostility like Zevara would expect. Not fear either, not much. Just\u2026<\/p>\n \u201cDad! What are you doing?<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n Embria hissed at Relc. He looked at her.<\/p>\n \u201cI said no.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou can\u2019t do that! They\u2019ll court-martial you! At the very least, you\u2019ll lose your job\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m not doing it.\u201d<\/p>\n The Watch Captain and Wing Commander looked at Relc. It was Zevara who gave up. She\u2019d investigate this strange change in Relc later. Right now\u2014she looked around.<\/p>\n \u201cOlesm.\u201d<\/p>\n She caught the [Strategist] as he appeared. Olesm stared at the Hobgoblin.<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s\u2014Numbtongue. I think.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHe\u2019s one of Miss Solstice\u2019s Goblins, isn\u2019t he? We have to put him back through the doorway. He could cause a panic\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBy himself?\u201d<\/p>\n Olesm looked around. Zevara gritted her teeth.<\/p>\n \u201cWe can\u2019t have Goblins in the city. You know that. And it\u2019s not Liscor that\u2019s in danger. He\u2019d be in more danger here. Just take a few [Guardsmen], push him through. I\u2019ll cover for you. Now\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n There was an argument at the doorway. Zevara could hear voices. And then a familiar shape appeared. She turned in relief, breaking away from Olesm. There she was. Zevara could curse her out, get the Hobgoblin out of sight before someone tried to kill him or a panic started, and sort this all out. She raised her voice to bellow.<\/p>\n Olesm looked over as well. His eyes widened. He stood straighter.<\/p>\n \u201cErin\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHuman, this is completely\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n The two Drakes broke off. They stared as Erin Solstice came through the doorway. Ilvriss, who might have been about to shout something at her, stopped mid-inhalation. He paused. So did the citizens of Liscor.<\/p>\n They all knew her. The Human girl. The [Innkeeper]. Annoying, strange, full of as many good things as bad things. It wasn\u2019t that they all liked her. Some hated her guts. But they all knew her. In her way, she\u2019d become a part of the city, as well-known as any Senior Guardsman. And they thought they knew her.<\/p>\n But not like this. Erin Solstice walked past Numbtongue as he looked around. Her eyes were red. Tears ran from them. Not even trying to hide it. She kept wiping at her face, but the tears kept coming. She approached Olesm and Zevara, stumbling, barely able to see. The two Drakes backed up. They couldn\u2019t help it.<\/p>\n \u201cErin?\u201d<\/p>\n Zevara forgot herself for a second. She stared at the girl. And then she looked around desperately. Olesm looked at Zevara, and then she nodded urgently to Erin. He cleared his throat.<\/p>\n \u201cErin, you\u2019re, um, crying.\u201d<\/p>\n She didn\u2019t reply. She was hiccupping. Tears ran down her face, dripping onto her shirt. Zevara coughed. She tried to look anywhere but at Erin. Behind her, Relc and Embria had gone still. Everyone was staring. Zevara began to grow embarrassed for Erin\u2019s sake.<\/p>\n \u201cYou should go back to your inn, Miss Solstice. We\u2019ll\u2026settle things without you.\u201d<\/p>\n She tried to urge Erin back towards the doorway. But the Human girl refused to go. She was crying harder now. Sobbing. The sounds forced themselves out of her chest, painful, uncontrollable. Every eye was on her. The Drakes and Gnolls stared. And then they began to look away.<\/p>\n Tears. It wasn\u2019t something you were supposed to do in public. Maybe a few tears. But this? The Drakes could barely stand to look at her. The Gnolls were different, but no less uncomfortable for other reasons.<\/p>\n \u201cErin\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n Olesm was at a loss. He reached out, but Erin wouldn\u2019t let him take her by the shoulder. Ilvriss strode over. He looked at Erin.<\/p>\n \u201cMiss Solstice. Let me escort you back to your inn. This is clearly not the moment.\u201d<\/p>\n He swirled his cloak, unfastening it and trying to shield Erin with it. This time, Erin looked up.<\/p>\n \u201cNo.<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n It came out as a sob. Ilvriss paused.<\/p>\n \u201cBut you\u2019re\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo. No, no, no.<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n Erin backed away from him. She was wiping her face. Her nose was running. And she was crying. Crying harder than Zevara could ever remember weeping herself. Except in her room, quietly, as a child. It was a terrible mess.<\/p>\n And everyone was watching. Drakes. Guardsmen. Adults and children. It wasn\u2019t something you\u2019d ever forget. But Erin refused to go back to her inn. She kept crying. Because\u2026because of something Numbtongue had said.<\/p>\n Why are you crying here?<\/em> Why are you <\/em>hiding? As if she was ashamed of her tears. As if they were only supposed to be in her inn, in a room, behind closed doors. Because Goblins didn\u2019t understand tears. They didn\u2019t understand embarrassment. But Erin wasn\u2019t embarrassed. Not of feeling sad. So she kept crying. And the tears that had dried up fell once more.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2014we should deal with the Hobgoblin.\u201d<\/p>\n Zevara backed up, muttering to the others. She tried not to look at Erin. It was so difficult. None of the Drakes around her could manage it. But Erin refused to let her go.<\/p>\n \u201cNo! No! He didn\u2019t do anything. Don\u2019t hurt him.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHe can\u2019t be in the city. It\u2019s a matter of safety.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHe fought for you! He didn\u2019t do\u2014do\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n Erin started hiccupping. It was almost funny. In fact, Zevara did hear a few laughs from the crowd behind her. She turned, and the laughter cut off.<\/p>\n \u201cIn regards to the Goblin\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n Ilvriss began, but he stopped as Numbtongue moved. Numbtongue\u2019d been looking around in silence, ignoring the tableau. Now he stepped forwards.<\/p>\n The City Watch tensed. Numbtongue looked at a dozen spears aimed at his heart. He looked past the armored City Watch, at the people of Liscor. Then he spoke. And his voice was loud in the silence.<\/p>\n \u201cWe fought for you.\u201d<\/p>\n The citizens and [Guardsmen] shifted. Numbtongue looked at them. Gnolls and Drakes. Staring at him with fear, contempt, confusion. He shook his head. Looked around the city. Waved an arm.<\/p>\n \u201cAll of this. We fought for it. We came. We fought. We died. We fought for you. Why didn\u2019t you let us in?\u201d<\/p>\n A stir ran through the crowd. Numbtongue looked around.<\/p>\n \u201cWe came here. You killed us. Why? We did nothing wrong.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cGoblins attacked Liscor.\u201d<\/p>\n Zevara didn\u2019t hear who said it. Numbtongue shook his head.<\/p>\n \u201cBut we<\/em> fought for you. We did. We fought. Why did we die? For what? For this? For stones and you? For what?\u201d<\/p>\n He shouted. The crowd was silent. Numbtongue looked around.<\/p>\n \u201cWe didn\u2019t even know what was inside. We never saw this. We didn\u2019t know. But we fought for you. Goblins attacked Liscor. Goblins defended it. We bled for this place. For what? What was it for?<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n He had tears in his eyes. A Goblin\u2019s tears. Zevara had no idea they could cry. Numbtongue looked around. He took a step. The spears drew back as if to thrust, and he stared at them.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat did I do?<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n He looked lost. The tips of the spears wavered. The City Watch looked back at Zevara. She bit her lip.<\/p>\n \u201cLower your weapons.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cZevara!\u201d<\/p>\n Embria hissed at her. Ilvriss turned his head. He met Zevara\u2019s eyes. Then he looked at Numbtongue.<\/p>\n \u201cGuardsmen, lower your blades. Clearly, you were called here in error. I see no Goblin.\u201d<\/p>\n The City Watch looked at him. Uncertainly, they lowered their arms. Zevara looked at Ilvriss, heart pounding. Numbtongue stared at the Wall Lord. Ilvriss turned.<\/p>\n \u201cThis is clearly a mistake. Watch Captain Zevara, if you disperse the crowds, then\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n He broke off as Numbtongue walked towards him. Ilvriss turned back, and he instinctively reached for the hilt of his sword. Numbtongue walked up to Ilvriss. He and the Wall Lord were nearly of a height. The Hobgoblin stared at the Drake.<\/p>\n \u201cDo you see me?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDo you see me?\u201d<\/p>\n Numbtongue repeated himself insistently. Ilvriss blinked. Numbtongue raised his voice.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m here. What did I do?\u201d<\/p>\n The Drake\u2019s eyes flickered. He half-turned, head swiveling around. Numbtongue walked in front of him.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m right here. Can you see me?\u201d<\/p>\n Silence. Ilvriss looked at Numbtongue. Then he nodded slowly.<\/p>\n \u201cI see you.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat did I do?\u201d<\/p>\n It was the same question. Zevara heard only silence. She bit her tongue. Numbtongue looked around, lost. Then someone answered him.<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019re a monster. You were born. That\u2019s what you did.\u201d<\/p>\n Relc looked up. His scales were pale. He leaned on his spear. Numbtongue looked at him. The [Spearmaster] gazed at him, meeting his eyes. At last, Numbtongue nodded.<\/p>\n \u201cThen monsters saved your city.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThey did.\u201d<\/p>\n That was all they said. Numbtongue walked past Relc. The City Watch began to raise their weapons. But they looked at Zevara and Ilvriss as they did. And neither Drake moved. So instead, the City Watch stood aside.<\/p>\n Numbtongue walked past them. Stumbling. The citizens drew back, some in fear. Others just staring. And for once, they noticed how thin he was. They took in the scar on his chest, leaking blood. They saw his tears. And they parted.<\/p>\n \u201cWe should\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n Zevara got no further. Erin followed Numbtongue. She was still crying. Olesm followed her. Ilvriss turned to Zevara. He didn\u2019t say anything. Then he walked away. Zevara hesitated. Then she waved. Slowly, she began to follow Numbtongue and Erin. It was a bright spring day. Noisy in the rest of the city as people went about their daily lives. But as the Goblin and the Human walked through the city, it grew quiet.<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n \u2014\u2014<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n \u201cGoblin.<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n It was a refrain that echoed through the city. People on the streets panicked. Some grabbed weapons. Others fled. Zevara\u2019s City Watch spread out ahead of Numbtongue, stopping people from doing either. The Hobgoblin stumbled as he looked around.<\/p>\n In another direction, Erin walked. Drakes and Gnolls stopped and stared at her as she passed. And whatever mood they had changed upon seeing her. Erin walked towards the Hive.<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s a monster.<\/em> You\u2019re the City Watch! Do your job!\u201d<\/p>\n Lism hissed at Zevara. Numbtongue stared at him and then at the stalls. He walked past them, wandering from place to place. Every so often, he would stop.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat\u2019s that?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cA tavern.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat\u2019s that?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cA butcher\u2019s.\u201d<\/p>\n Someone had to explain to him what all these places were. Numbtongue knew some of the names, but not why. A place to cut up meat. A place to drink a certain type of drink. He came to a large building.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat\u2019s that?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cA public bath house.\u201d<\/p>\n He had no idea what that was. So he went inside. The day manager panicked when he saw Numbtongue walking past the steaming pools of hot water. He fought his way over to Zevara.<\/p>\n \u201cYou have to take him out!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHe\u2019s looking around.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes, but if a Goblin<\/em> enters the baths, we\u2019ll have to drain the entire thing!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s a Goblin.<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n The Drake looked at her as if she was insane. Lism was still arguing, following the [Guardsmen] at a safe distance. One of the Gnolls with a bow and no arrow nocked just stared at Numbtongue as he bent to touch the hot water. The day manager groaned.<\/p>\n \u201cHe\u2019s never seen a bath before? He\u2019s tasting the water.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s a monster for you.\u201d<\/p>\n Lism interjected unhelpfully. A Drake who\u2019d been following the strange procession looked at Lism.<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s the same Goblin that lives in the Human\u2019s inn. He was one of the ones who fought for the city.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSo? It\u2019s a monster.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019ve never heard a monster speak. Or cry.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh? And I suppose you want to take a bath with that thing? Look at it!\u201d<\/p>\n Lism began to argue with the Drake. Meanwhile, Numbtongue had wandered out of the bathhouse. Zevara left the arguing pair of Drakes behind as a few more people raised their voices.<\/p>\n From bathhouse to an alchemist\u2019s shop. And then the Adventurer\u2019s Guild. Numbtongue stared at it for a long time before going in.<\/p>\n \u201cNumbtongue?<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n Selys had heard what was going on. She still jumped at seeing him. Numbtongue wandered up to the desk. He stared at something on it. Zevara grew pale. So did Selys.<\/p>\n A bunch of Goblin ears were sitting on the desk. Bounties being turned in. The adventurers standing in line turned pale. They\u2019d been out hunting the undead zombies. Numbtongue stared at them. His face barely changed.<\/p>\n \u201cBounties? Adventurers?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s\u2014that\u2019s right.\u201d<\/p>\n Selys stared at Zevara. The Drake pointed, and an adventurer swept the ears into a bag of holding. Numbtongue looked at him.<\/p>\n \u201cEars. How much for Goblin ears?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s\u2014it\u2019s just to keep count of the undead. They\u2019re zombies. Ghouls. It\u2019s not\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHow much?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cA copper coin for a pair. If they\u2019re Hobs, silver.\u201d<\/p>\n Numbtongue looked over at an adventurer. A Human with a scar over one eye. One of Gemhammer, Earlia\u2019s adventurers. The Human pointed to his eye.<\/p>\n \u201cI got this fighting Goblins.\u201d<\/p>\n Numbtongue pointed to his chest.<\/p>\n \u201cI got this fighting Humans.\u201d<\/p>\n Then he looked back at Selys.<\/p>\n \u201cEars. Adventurers get paid? Then pay me.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cFor\u2026?\u201d<\/p>\n Selys\u2019 gaze locked on Numbtongue\u2019s ears with everyone else. He shook his head.<\/p>\n \u201cEars. We killed Goblins. Big army. You saw. Redfangs. Pay me for them.\u201d<\/p>\n Someone laughed. Numbtongue turned to look at them.<\/p>\n \u201cWe\u2019re adventurers. That\u2019s what they told me. We killed an army. Give us a bounty.\u201d<\/p>\n Selys looked helplessly around. No one was there to give her any aid.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m sorry, Numbtongue. But I can\u2019t\u2014there\u2019s no way we could afford that. Even if we could calculate how many Goblins you killed.\u201d<\/p>\n Numbtongue waited. The Hobgoblin looked around and nodded.<\/p>\n \u201cOkay.\u201d<\/p>\n He walked back towards the door. There he turned.<\/p>\n \u201cWere we adventurers? Or pets? Because we fought the Raskghar. We found them. We fought Goblins. I didn\u2019t see you there.\u201d<\/p>\n He looked around. And then he was gone.<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n \u2014\u2014<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n As a Goblin wandered, Erin walked through the streets. She couldn\u2019t stop crying. Out here, the sadness of it all hit her harder than in her room. Here\u2014she saw Drakes and Gnolls. Laughing, until they saw her. Going about their lives. As if they didn\u2019t care. Well, she cared. And she refused to stop.<\/p>\n They saw her in the street, and they stared. Some went up to her to ask if something was wrong. Others treated her as if she was doing something illegal. Erin didn\u2019t care.<\/p>\n A fight broke out as she passed. A Gnoll began arguing with a Drake about Numbtongue being in the city. Someone threw a punch. A brawl started after Numbtongue left the Adventurer\u2019s Guild over a word someone had hurled at his back.<\/p>\n Monster<\/em>.<\/p>\n Numbtongue wandered. Erin walked towards the Hive. She walked past the Soldiers, who looked at her. She walked through the Hive, and the Antinium stopped. She walked into a room filled with symbols drawn in paint on the walls. There she found Pawn.<\/p>\n \u201cErin\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m so sorry.\u201d<\/p>\n Erin sobbed as she reached out. She hugged Pawn as Workers and Soldiers gathered around. She hugged him, crying onto his hard body. That was all she said.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m so sorry.\u201d<\/p>\n And.<\/p>\n \u201cThank you.\u201d<\/p>\n What else was there to say? Pawn held her and trembled. And sometime later, Erin\u2019s tears stopped. But she didn\u2019t. She walked back up into Liscor and found Numbtongue standing by a fountain. Fewer [Guardsmen] were surrounding him. A brawl had started in two separate streets, and a bathhouse was filled with arguing Gnolls and Drakes. Someone was trying to drown Lism.<\/p>\n \u201cErin.\u201d<\/p>\n She found people she recognized in the street. Halrac and his Griffon Hunt. Erin just went up to the [Scout] and hugged him. Her eyes were wet, but she didn\u2019t cry.<\/p>\n \u201cWhy\u2019d they die?\u201d<\/p>\n And Halrac had no answer. He remained very still as Erin hugged him. Gingerly, as if he were afraid she\u2019d break, he patted her once on the back. Revi hugged Erin.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m sorry.\u201d<\/p>\n And Numbtongue looked back and saw Erin embracing Krshia. He looked around as the Gnoll woman came up to him. And he spoke to her briefly. Then he got up and walked.<\/p>\n Children ran away from him. Children ran up to him. Children threw stones at him, and one was spanked, and the others were not. Where Numbtongue passed, some Drakes and Gnolls shouted curses. Others argued. Some were silent.<\/p>\n \u201cGoblins killed my wife!<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n A Gnoll struggled to get at Numbtongue. The [Bard] stared into wild eyes.<\/p>\n \u201cHumans killed my family.\u201d<\/p>\n He received only a snarl in response. Numbtongue wandered on.<\/p>\n He wasn\u2019t helping people. Nor was he changing them. Not really. A mob came to lynch him. Relc and Klbkch broke it up with a dozen [Guardsmen]. Zevara counted two dozen brawls stopped by midday. And countless more petty arguments and individual fights.<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s turning into a riot. We have to get him out of here.\u201d<\/p>\n She made the call. Numbtongue looked around as the [Guardsmen] formed ranks. With shields facing out. Erin tugged him towards the gates. He walked, tripping, half-falling. Stomach rumbling. They led him towards the door and vanished. But the fighting remained.<\/p>\n It was about the Goblins. Some of the people in Liscor spoke up.<\/p>\n \u201cI saw them fighting. Those five Goblins were at the Human\u2019s inn for over a month! They saved our people from the Raskghar!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThey\u2019re all the same kind. They\u2019re Goblins.<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIt was Goblins who defended Liscor.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIt was Goblins who attacked it.<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThanks to the Humans!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cGoblins killed my daughter in the Second Antinium War.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cGoblins slaughtered my family. I will never, ever\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI didn\u2019t know a Goblin could cry.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI didn\u2019t know Goblins could speak.\u201d<\/p>\n Arguments. Fighting. Zevara stood in her office in the barracks and listened to her city boiling. For some reason, it didn\u2019t bother her. It was familiar.<\/p>\n \u201cWatch Captain, requesting permission to call in off-duty officers and Embria\u2019s [Soldiers]. Some are already keeping the peace, but we are understaffed.\u201d<\/p>\n Klbkch stood behind her. Zevera turned.<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s familiar.\u201d<\/p>\n He paused.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat is?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThis. You know, after the Second Antinium War\u2014before you lot were in the city\u2014the same thing happened. I was just a new [Guardswoman]. But I remember the same thing happening.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cPeople drowning each other in the bathhouse?\u201d<\/p>\n Zevara smiled.<\/p>\n \u201cRiots. Fights. Half the city fought the other half. Argued about the Antinium.\u201d<\/p>\n Klbkch was silent for a moment.<\/p>\n \u201cI see. About the reserves. May I call them?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cVery well. Also, Watch Captain, I realize this is not the moment. But when you have a chance\u2014I have a proposal. I would like to place more Antinium in the City Watch.\u201d<\/p>\n Zevara looked up, surprised. Below, someone crashed<\/em> into a desk as a fight began in the ranks. From the impact, it sounded like Relc had started it.<\/p>\n \u201cAntinium? But you\u2019re the only Prognugator. That means you\u2019d want to put Workers or Soldiers in the Watch.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWould they be the\u2026special ones?\u201d<\/p>\n Klbkch paused.<\/p>\n \u201cNot necessarily.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSo you want to put Antinium in the Watch. Workers aren\u2019t equipped for a fight, and they have no names. And Soldiers can\u2019t speak.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat is correct.\u201d<\/p>\n She mulled it over.<\/p>\n \u201cGranted.\u201d<\/p>\n Klbkch nodded. Zevara turned back to watching the chaos. She kept watching as she saw a group of Drakes fighting with an equally large group of Gnolls before Klbkch led fifteen of her people into the fight. It was chaos. But just what she\u2019d expected, really. And in her head, a Hobgoblin turned to her.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat did we do?\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n And Zevara wondered. She looked to the eastern gates. And she closed her eyes. She thought.<\/p>\n That was all.<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n \u2014\u2014<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n Numbtongue didn\u2019t know what to think after they made him go back to the inn. Erin was\u2014better. Or maybe she had just stopped crying. She was hugging Mrsha. And speaking. And he was still empty. The anger had guttered out sometime on his long walk. Now he was just tired.<\/p>\n But there was something he had to do. So he got up as the adventurers argued and talked to Erin. After all, they weren\u2019t his friends. Not really. If he had any friend, it was Erin. And she\u2026wasn\u2019t so much a friend as something else.<\/p>\n \u201cLyonette.\u201d<\/p>\n She jumped. It was the first time Numbtongue had said her name. But the Hob was full of firsts. He asked for her sword. She hesitated and then handed it to him.<\/p>\n \u201cWait\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n They tried to stop him at the door. But Numbtongue ignored them, and none of them could stop him. Not without killing him. He walked out into the Floodplains alone.<\/p>\n It was muddy. There were undead. Numbtongue walked past them. Sometimes, he had to fight, but they were zombies. A few Ghouls roamed around. But the adventurers had come out of the inn and handled them. And Numbtongue walked further.<\/p>\n He stopped as he spotted a tall undead among the others. A huge, hulking Hobgoblin, shuffling around lifelessly. Numbtongue stared up at him.<\/p>\n \u201cEater of Spears.\u201d<\/p>\n The zombie did not react to the name. It turned. Numbtongue stared up at him. It hurt. Not just to see him. But to see what a waste it was. A zombie. If Eater of Spears could have seen himself in death, he would have been offended. At least be a Ghoul! Or a Draug. He would have been pleased to be a Draug, surely. And what a monster of destruction he would have been. But as he was, he was just a zombie. Practically harmless. Numbtongue walked past him as Eater of Spears looked around sightlessly.<\/p>\n He had never met Eater of Spears. He had never talked with him. But somehow, Numbtongue knew what he would have said. Somehow\u2026<\/p>\n It was further up. Past the Floodplains, towards the mountains. Numbtongue climbed, legs trembling despite the food Erin had made him eat. He climbed higher, choosing the surest footholds.<\/p>\n A memory. A Goblin thing. It was a thing of Chieftains. A power of their people. Or a curse. Because a Goblin could remember all the failures, all the triumphs of the past. All the grief.<\/p>\n There he was. Up the hillside, slumped in place. Numbtongue climbed higher. A zombie tripped and tumbled past him. The Hobgoblin gasped with the effort. He could sense the adventurers following him. But for now, he was alone.<\/p>\n He reached the place, panting, propping himself up on his sword. He looked down.<\/p>\n A Goblin had died here. A Hobgoblin. One among many. But not the same as the rest. Unlike the others, who had died with their backs to the sky, he was lying on his. He stared up at the sky, a smile on his face. Rot had yet to consume him, but had started.<\/p>\n And he was dead. Pyrite\u2019s chest had been torn open. Fire had burned him. Numbtongue looked down and recalled the face in his dream. He tried to connect it to the face he saw below him. But there was nothing that matched.<\/p>\n Slowly, Numbtongue sat. He looked around, but the battleaxe that Pyrite had wielded was gone. Numbtongue shrugged and reached for something. He fished at Pyrite\u2019s side and pulled at a rough hemp sack. Then he hesitated and reached for the Hobgoblin\u2019s head.<\/p>\n Pyrite\u2019s jaws were closed. It was hard to open them, but Numbtongue saw what he knew was there in the back of Pyrite\u2019s mouth. A glowing blue gemstone. Numbtongue plucked it out and put it in the sack. Then he just sat, watching the adventurers climb towards him.<\/p>\n A memory. He looked down at his hand and felt the warmth. Pyrite stared up at the sky, still smiling. And Numbtongue looked over.<\/p>\n \u201cYou did it. Good job.\u201d<\/p>\n Then he looked up. A Ghoul leapt at him. Numbtongue rolled and slashed. The Ghoul staggered as Numbtongue\u2019s sword slashed deep into his shoulder. The [Bard] turned. He saw the Ghoul\u2019s body tense. Something in it told him it would lunge\u2014here. Numbtongue dodged, and the teeth snapped down inches away from his arm. He swung his sword in an arc, and the Ghoul collapsed.<\/p>\n \u201cThanks.\u201d<\/p>\n Numbtongue looked down at Pyrite. Then he stood. He tried to lift the Hob, then just gave up and cut off his head.<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n \u2014\u2014<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n He buried him with the others. There were five graves on a hill across from the inn. Numbtongue dug the sixth. He said no prayers, spoke no words when he placed the head in the ground and covered it with soil. When it was done, he looked at the markers.<\/p>\n Garen. Noears. Headscratcher. Shorthilt. Reiss. And Pyrite. There were others, but these were the ones he\u2019d found. He looked out and saw Eater of Spears wandering about. No one had dared end him yet.<\/p>\n Graves. The dead. Liscor. And Erin. Numbtongue sat down. He laid his head back, against Headscratcher\u2019s cairn. As he did, he noticed a small yellow flower lay on his grave and Shorthilt\u2019s. Numbtongue looked down at it. And he saw a small white Gnoll tending flowers in his mind.<\/p>\n For some reason, that made him smile. He closed his eyes. As he did, he rummaged in the sack he\u2019d taken. He pulled something out.<\/p>\n The blue gemstone. Numbtongue felt at it with his claws, then shrugged and put it in his mouth. He bit down, feeling the hard stone resisting his teeth. Hard, harder\u2026<\/p>\n Crack.<\/em><\/p>\n Numbtongue opened his eyes. He blinked, took the stone out, and spat out two broken pieces of tooth.<\/p>\n \u201cOw.\u201d<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n He put the gemstone back in the bag. Maybe he needed to practice. And he needed a pickaxe. Numbtongue closed his eyes again.<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n [Miner Class Obtained!]<\/p>\n [Miner Level 1!]<\/p>\n [Skill \u2013 Durable Picks obtained!]<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n The Hobgoblin opened one eye. Level 1. And he\u2019d only thought about it. But it was enough. He didn\u2019t need the class. He had a memory.<\/p>\n How to spot a vein in the mountain. Which spots contained the best gemstones. How to spot a dangerously loose shelf of rock. How to fight. How to dig up grubs.<\/p>\n Knowledge. Numbtongue\u2019s hand twitched. The dirt on Pyrite\u2019s grave blew a bit as the wind picked up. The Hobgoblin looked over at it. He closed his eyes and tried to dream again. But the dream was gone. Only the memories remained. A gift.<\/p>\n Numbtongue closed his eyes, covered his face, and began to cry.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n Previous Chapter<\/a> Next Chapter<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" It was a cold evening when Octavia Cotton carefully lit a match. It was spring, but sometimes the cold days still remained. This was one of them. The match sparked, and the head flared into life. For most people in Celum, the city that Octavia had made her home for four years, the fire would […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":52856846,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"_searchwp_excluded":"","_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"patreon-level":0,"patreon_level":0,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[11693086,349],"tags":[],"twi_volume":[11693135],"twi_collection":[],"class_list":["post-5844","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-volume-6","category-writing"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\n
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