Rise of the Runelords

1

            The edge of the cliff seemed much narrower when one looked down, so everyone resolutely kept their eyes on their footholds. There was a brief scare when Avilyn slipped on the damp rocks, but their precautions served them well, and she quickly regained her position between the others, scraping along the brambles.
            As Silence stepped carefully along the ledge, she spared a smile for Barthur, behind her.
            "This reminds me of the time we gathered those rare mushrooms. Remember that? You swore they had no equal aboveground. This fall isn't nearly as high, of course -- I can actually see the ground, this time."
            "Aye, lass, that were a good trip. And I was right, weren't I? Those were the best dam' shrooms you ever tasted. Watch yer step, Avi girl, don't wanna be fishin' ya out of the sea, now do we?"
            Startled by her almost-fall, Avilyn laughed nervously. "Not any less than I'd want to have to explain to the church why their nice heavy armor was at the bottom of the ocean."
            They made it all the way to the rickety rope bridge dangling between the island and the mainland before the first arrows sailed past, caught in the wind between the rocks and blown harmlessly aside. Looking up, they could see two goblins with shortbows standing atop the tower, bickering with each other as they pointed at the group.
            Git looked across at the bickering goblins and shook his head. "We don't have time to take cover," he rumbled, "or anywhere to go, for that matter." The half-orc raised his hand to send a bolt of red energy leaping across the gap towards the head of one of the goblins, but thought better of it. "Silence," Git said, "if you have a good shot, take it, but don't stop to aim. Just move. Get us across that bridge!" Git looked over his shoulder at Barthur, behind him. "Tell the others to cover us - hold the bridge - wait until we're across, then follow. Andosana comes when the rest of us are across, so we can cover her." He bared his tusks, "The faster we're all across this thing, the sooner we can cut the bridge - maybe even with gobbos on it."
            The paladin, now facing a threat she could actually do something about, raised her shield and readied herself to charge across the bridge. "Now let's just hope nobody thought to give those archers an alarm bell," she muttered to Jack.
            "I guess we would have heard it," said Jack. "Maybe I could save my bloodthirsty battle yell for later, though." She tried to arrange her barely-wrapped rope across her chest, like a breastplate.
            Silence held up her crossbow and aimed at the goblins above, but then lowered the weapon.
            "I don't want to waste a bolt on them. They have cover, and I do not have that many bolts left. Let's just get across and under cover as soon as we can."
            The goblin Git hit yelped and fell back out of sight, making the other goblin duck low, only the top of its head showing as it peeked down at them. Silence took the chance to step onto the ominously creaking rope bridge, hurrying across with Git and Barthur on her heels. The bridge sagged under their weight and swung alarmingly in the breeze. They were halfway to the island when the wind shifted, bringing them the unmistakeable stench of goblin dogs.
            Git managed not to growl, but it was difficult. He was getting back into his element now - harrowing danger, combat on the way, and a sure need to test his wits against an unknown number of foes. "Keep moving," he called to Silence, "we don't want to get caught oou on this thing!"
            Silence held tight to the rope bridge as it swayed precariously, and bit back a sharp reply.
            "I am going as fast as I can," is all she said, as she continued to move forward.

2

            Lent watched the first three members of the group hurry across the bridge, and kept half an eye on the goblins in the guard tower. Then he nudged Avilyn. "We need to make sure no one comes out of those thistles," he reminded her. "That bridge is creaky enough without having to try and fight goblins while you cross it."
            The young paladin nodded at Lent and turned her back on the bridge and the bow wielding goblins. "Hopefully it won't come to that." But Avilyn drew her sword and glared into the thistles anyway, ready for a fight if one should present itself.

3

            Still tied together, the little group on the bridge was forced to move at Barthur's short-legged pace. In the meantime the goblins in the tower (if you could call a ramshackle pile of driftwood a tower) began to fire again, this time concentrating on Git. An arrow grazed him, then another hit, and the goblins responsible jumped up and down excitedly, yelling goblin insults at the "longshanks." Bits of wood rattled down from the tower at the commotion. Oddly (and fortunately) enough, there didn't appear to be anyone in the westernmost tower.
            As they approached the island the stink of goblin dogs grew stronger. Farthest ahead, Silence glimpsed something moving behind the thistles that surrounded the goblin fort.
            Back on the mainland, the others had mostly clambered past the thorns and into the goblin warren entrance, also still tied together. Finding a wide space on the ledge, Andosana muttered to herself and moved to draw her bow.
            Barthur readies himself to follow Silence and Git across the bridge. If they don't move, he will ready an action to attack any goblin that comes within reach.
            Git bit back a curse at the pain from the arrows and focused his concentration. Much as he would like to cast a spell, he knew their best defense would be to get onto solid ground and away from the goblin archers.
            Silence got to the other side of the bridge as soon as she could without being reckless.
            The trio on the bridge hurried onto the island, where they were met by a pack of goblins riding goblin dogs. Though the pack surrounded them quickly, Silence and Git were able to fend them off - until one of the goblins got a lucky hit on Silence. It cackled, raising its dogslicer to lick the blood away, then cursing in Goblin as it cut its tongue.

4

            "If we get across, I could cover you with your shield, while you use the bow," Jack murmured to the paladin. "Or vice-versa. My big sword is pretty good against goblins, but I don't know how else we can help get those guys on the tower."
            Avilyn nodded at Git. "He seems to be doing okay. But yeah, I can do that. I'm better with a sword, though. How are you with the bow?"
            "Good enough," said Jack. "Somebody'll need to cover the bridge, at any rate, even if Git and Silence can manage the tower. I'll do it. Just keep 'em off me." She seemed confident in Avilyn's ability to do so.
            Lent began chanting asking Desna to provide an ally to help relieve the pressure on his companions.
            Andosana sent a shaft flying at the already-wounded goblin in the tower, but the little monster ducked behind the wall in time to avoid it. Both it and its companion kept up their barrage against Git, though the wounded one made a throat-cutting gesture at Andosana.

5

            The first of the goblins to attack Silence found she wasn't an easy mark - an exchange of blows left it clutching the broken hilt of its dogslicer with round red eyes. Its animal, however, did better, savaging the half-elf's leg before she tore it free. Another did the same to Git, but the two heroes managed to fight the others off, though one managed to slip behind Silence. The stink of the goblin dogs was choking, even in the open air.
            Silence snapped her short short down and through the rope in a smooth motion, then backed off of the goblins. She focused on fighting defensively -- and preventing any goblins from getting behind her -- until reinforcements could arrive.
            Git cursed as his own blood began to flow more freely. He staggered back as Silence cut the rope free, moving to get away from the goblin dogs and their riders. Muttering words of power, he threw out his hand, intending to roast his enemies in fire.
            A gout of flame sprang from his hand - not as powerful as he would have liked, but it scorched most of the goblins and their mounts, and set the goblins' tatty clothing and doghide cloaks on fire. They squealed with alarm, slapping at themselves to put the flames out.
            'Jack, Avi, get over here!" Barthur yells.
            Slicing through the rope that bound him to Git, the dwarf climbed off the creaky rope bridge and set to work at the nearest goblin threatening Silence, meaning to down the yapping goblin dog. With a steady crunching sound, he smashed the animal's legs and ribs with his axe, forcing its rider to jump off with an alarmed hoot as the goblin dog crashed to the ground.
            Avilyn turned to look back over the bridge and grimaced. "Looks like we were watching the wrong door. Let's go!" She turned to charge across the bridge, shield and sword at the ready and not bothering to pull the shortbow from its case. "For Sarenrae!"
            Jack crowded in close behind, her fingers moving experimentally for an ideal grip on the bow, since she hadn't had occasion to use it before. She wished she hadn't walked into that stupid log trap; the blow was still bothering her shoulder.
            "Don't worry, Lent," she said. "I'll cover you."
            Her assurance proved unnecessary, as Desna heard the gnome's fervent prayers. A point of light appeared over the gulf, and from within it came an eagle's cry, followed by the shining eagle itself. It immediately swooped to the easternmost tower, where it slammed into one of the archers with battering wings. The archers yelled, their attention absorbed, and Lent hurried across the bridge after his friends, quick as a goblin himself. Andosana covered him anyway, sending a well-placed arrow into the archer not engaged with Lent's celestial eagle.
            Badly wounded by the furious eagle and Andosana's arrow, the archers fought back like rats in a trap, but their efforts were concentrated on the eagle. The one not under attack moved back out of sight; then the eagle screeched as an arrow pierced it.
            The mounted goblins that Git had set on fire were occupied with trying to put out their clothes, but their vicious goblin dogs (who were too hairless to catch, but now stank of barbecued sewage) leapt to the attack. Silence easily kept them at bay, but the one closest to Git caught him unprepared, worrying him savagely.
            The goblin that had leapt free of its falling mount tried to exact its revenge on Barthur, but it couldn't get past his sturdy shield and swinging handaxe.
            Silence stepped next to Git, and did her best to keep any ambitious goblins at bay.
            Bleeding profusely now, Git managed to pull free of the goblin dog as it opened its jaws to get a better grip. Managing not to bellow in pain, the half-orc instead staggered back and away from the beast, half-collapsing against the post that held the bridge. He quickly straightened again when the post swayed under his weight. "Lent," He said, "I could use a little help."
            Seeing Git fall back, Barthur casts an anguished look at Silence and then moves to attack the goblin dogs attacking her.
            Nothing could stop the dwarf as he hacked at and bashed his shield into the reeking goblin dogs, making them bleed for their transgressions.
            Avi leapt over Git as he crawled away and struck down at the goblin behind him. "For Sandpoint!"
            The goblin dog was quick as its rider, dodging away from Avilyn's furious attack. The goblin blew a snot-laden raspberry at her even as it smacked out the last of the embers on its doghide cloak.
            "Pardon me, Avilyn," said Jack, looking for a shot at the goblin on the other side of her. "This'll just take a second."
            The bow had a harder pull than most, but the effect was clear. She sent an arrow punching through the goblin's leather-scrap armor, neatly avoiding Avilyn.
            Lent had already eyed up the situation and realized that Git was far from the only member of the group who could use a boost. Gauging the distance, Lent backed away from the end of the bridge until only his allies were in the proper range, then channeled the blessings of Desna upon them.
            Much-needed new strength flowed into those closest to him.
            The goblin that Silence had effectively disarmed urged his goblin dog back a bit, drawing its bow. Somehow it managed to shoot Barthur despite the other goblins constantly getting in the way.
            Unable to resist the lure of flanking the dwarf, the goblin that had dodged Avilyn's attack struck out at Barthur as well, and while it couldn't penetrate his defense, its filthy-mouthed goblin dog tore into him while he was parrying the goblin's blows.
            The goblin and goblin dog focusing on Silence found it impossible to land a single blow or bite on the quick half-elf. Meanwhile, the goblin whose mount Barthur had put down stabbed and slashed at him, whittling down his defenses.
            Git, feeling much stronger now, nodded his thanks to Lent, drew a wand from his belt, and began casting a protective spell. One that he should have cast before crossing the bridge, he reminded himself.
            "By Torag's forge, yuh scrawny devils, yuh'll pay for that!" growls the wounded dwarf as he attacks the goblin whose dog he'd killed.
            The dwarf's furious attack drove the goblin back, and blood spattered everywhere as he hewed at the unfortunate little monster.
            Avilyn's powerful swings were just as violent, but the goblin dog-rider she directed her blows at managed to stay mostly out of reach, taking no serious wounds. Jack fared better, placing an arrow neatly in the abdomen of the goblin that had shot Barthur. The powerful bow sent the arrow clean through its armor.
            Lent, seeing the injuries to Barthur, cautiously stepped closer, trying to angle himself so that he could catch the dwarf, but not any goblins, in another wave of healing energy.
            Perhaps it was just as well that only Silence and Jack understood Andosana's shout in the elvish tongue: _"Running out of arrows!"_
            Goblin arrows swished past Git as the archers in the tower recovered from the attack of Lent's now-vanished celestial eagle. Another arrow clattered against the doors behind Silence as the goblin Jack had gut-shot, having retreated back out of sight of the Shoanti (or at least tried), waveringly put another arrow to its string. "Get out of way, stupid longshanks!" it yelled in Goblin.
            The goblin at Barthur's back nudged its goblin dog into stabbing range, and together with its mount it brought the brave dwarf down. It was enough to shake Silence's concentration, and the goblin harrying her finally managed to cut her.
            Despite this triumph, the goblin Barthur had nearly killed had clearly had enough; it scampered through the tunnel in the brambles behind it, leaving the others to their fight.
            "Barthur!"
            Silence leapt forward and slashed at the goblin, putting all of her strength into the blow.
            Her shortsword whicked through the air where the goblin had been a heartbeat before, the monster reacting with the manic speed goblins were known for.
            Git held his tongue as he saw Silence leave the safety of the doorway to avenge her fallen companion. Instead of saying anything to the girl, he covered he back as best he could, sending a bolt of magical force streaking past her to strike the goblin who had struck at her, hoping to keep it from attacking the half-elf.
            Avilyn stepped over the fallen dwarf to shield him against further attacks, using her body to shield him from arrows and swords. She didn't forget her little friend, though, hacking at her opponent as she shifted to protect Barthur.
            While Avilyn couldn't seem to strike a telling blow on the goblin zipping about on its reeking mount, the impact of Git's magic squashed the nose of the one further back (quite a feat, considering its already-squashed shape). It howled and reached for the sudden stinging sensation, nearly poking its own eye out with its dogslicer.
            Lent winced, seeing his friend go fall to the goblin and it's filthy mount. The gnome called upon his Mistress as he weaved his way through the legs of his companions to Barthur's side, touching the dwarf and letting Desna's healing flow. As he did so, however, Lent kept his mace at the ready.
            Life flowed back into Barthur as his wounds closed, and the first thing he became aware of was... a horrible itchiness, centered around the goblin dog's bites, but spreading.
            "Goddammit, did Barthur get killed AGAIN?" Jack shouted, drawing another arrow. "I'm not carrying him! It's somebody else's turn." She registered Andosana's warning, made no sense of it, and took Lent's old place when the little nut pushed past her into the fray. Then she sent another arrow out - this one directed at the dope confronting Avilyn.
            The arrow pierced the goblin's leg, and it bared its long, slender teeth at her much like the goblin dog it rode. Another arrow from Andosana removed one of the archers in the tower from the equation, and there was dawning fear in the faces of the goblins that remained - especially when Barthur stirred again.
            The one that had pulled back fired an arrow at Avilyn, which she caught with her shield. Edging away from Avilyn (and the waking dwarf), the goblin that had taken Barthur down looked for easier prey - and thought to find it in the more lightly-armored Silence. This time her superior agility didn't save her - the goblin and its mount leapt full into her, savaging her on the ground.
            The least-wounded of the goblins circled around Avilyn, obviously trying to flank her, but an exchange of blows snapped its dogslicer in half, leaving it with the handle and a stupid look on its face. Its goblin dog fared better, managing to worry Avilyn's leg a bit before she shook it off.
            Git saw the flow of battle easily enough - he'd been in plenty of battles with his Father's clan - and he knew this was it. Every battle had it - that moment when momentum balanced on a razor's edge, and if it were pushed, just a little, in either direction, it's fall would determine victor and victim. Git was determined to do all he could to ensure his companions were not victims.
            Just as quickly as he'd recognized the situation, Git changed his aim. "Lent," he called to the gnome, "to your right!" Git sent a bolt of magical force hurtling towards the goblin dog on that side, as if pointing Lent's path for him. "At them, friends," Git's deep voice urged his companions, "we have them now!"
            As if in confirmation, the goblin dog he'd targeted went down, its rider not able to jump free in time to avoid falling with it.
            Barthur opened his eyes to a chaotic scene. Around him, a veritable forest of legs, tall, short, armored, furred(?), stamped and trod. He quickly realized he must have fallen in battle and been revived by Lent's prayers. He owed the gnome an ale when they got back to town. Suddenly his eyes widened. Next to him was Silence's body. She, too, had been struck down. Ignoring his own wounds, the dwarf crawled through the melee and and attempted to shield his old love from the goblins attacks.
            The paladin's head whipped back and forth as she tried to cover both goblin riders skittering around her. Once Git's attack hit home, she lunged forward and attacked.
            She slashed a deep furrow in the side of the goblin dog she targeted, and its high-pitched yelp was sharp in her ears.
            Lent heard Git's yell, and thought for a moment that the big half-orc was crazy - or directionally challenged - the goblin to Lent's right side was still fully armed, while the one to the left held only a hilt. Then Lent saw Git's attack, and smiled. The little gnome called again upon his Goddess, and slipped forward, this time to touch Silence's foot.
            "We got this guy, Avi," Jack called, stepping in behind Lent as he ducked down to help Silence. Since he was so short anyway, and she so tall, Jack just sent her third arrow zipping over his head. This close to an enemy, she wondered if she ought not draw her trusty long sword next.
            With the chaos of battle (and the effort not to catch Lent in the back of the head with an arrow), the lucky little goblin avoided Jack's arrow. It didn't look half so cocky now, though, lying on the ground with its goblin dog bleeding beside it.
            Andosana cursed as another arrow missed, but she had bigger problems. Three more goblins came charging out of the thistles, dogslicers ready. Seeing her being dealt with, the remaining goblin atop the tower turned his bow on Git, catching the half-orc in the arm.
            The mounted goblin at the back of the pack desperately sent an arrow at Avilyn, but it bounced off her shield with a metallic clang. The dangerous little goblin whose mount Git had felled tried to scramble to its feet, yelling, "No hit Muggi! No hit Muggi!" But Barthur, even lying covering Silence as he was, chopped it down as it rose.
            The goblin whose dogslicer had fallen apart hammered on the door to the fort, screaming, "Let us in!" The doors stayed shut. Its goblin dog growled warningly at those nearest, blood not improving its smell one bit. Now it just stank like a city slaughterhouse.
            The goblins facing Andosana had a hard time actually hitting her, despite that she was backed up against the cliff's edge. She was too fast and too well-armored for them to get a lick in.
            Silence hopped to her feet, chagrined at being knocked over.
            "Thanks, guys," she said to Barthur and Lent. "I'm fine. Let's finish this vermin off."
            Silence held back, and moved to watch the backs of the front line fighters to keep goblins from slipping behind them again.
            Andosana cursed as another arrow missed, but she had bigger problems. Three more goblins came charging out of the thistles, dogslicers ready. Seeing her being dealt with, the remaining goblin atop the tower turned his bow on Git, catching the half-orc in the arm.
            Git quickly returned the archer goblin's attack, sending a bolt of magical force flying back at the little creatures' face. Then he turned to see if there was anything he could do to assist Andosana.
            The archer yelped and ducked back out of sight. Andosana seemed to be holding her own for the moment, kicking out at the little monsters to keep them at bay.
            Barthur stands up, groaning and cursing. "Damn little green bastiches!" He looks around and swings his axe at the goblin dog growling in front of the door.
            The goblin dog rushed him as he rose, biting his shield arm as the goblin on its back shrieked with fear at being jerked away from the door. The goblin hopped free as Barthur sank his axe into the goblin dog's head, ending its aggression.
            Avilyn didn't notice the commotion at the other end of the bridge. She was focused on putting down the goblins on her side, and that focus was clear on her face as she turned to the unarmed goblin and chopped down at him as he tried to get back inside. "Sarenrae grant you mercy."
            Even as she struck the blow, a sudden sense of doubt and disappointment blossomed in her breast, making her hesitate a fraction of a second. The goblin screamed and hammered harder on the door, yanking on the handle with both feet planted on the doorframe.
            Lent, now in the middle of the battle, and without a safe path to heal, instead decided to focus on preventing his friends' injuries in the first place. The little gnome stepped over the goblin Barthur had felled, drew and threw his dagger at the goblin who'd taken a shot at Avilyn.
            The dagger slammed into the goblin, who dropped its bow and arrow, wobbled for a moment, then slumped off its goblin dog's back.
            "Hey, uh, I think I better go help what's-er-face," Jack yelled, backing up towards the bridge. "She is the guide, I guess. You guys can mop up this poop." She turned and trotted towards the second front, grumbling to herself about the dumb mean elf. What was she doing, loitering over there in the first place?
            Once she reached the middle of the bridge, Jack lobbed an arrow at the closest goblin. The wind on the bridge was unpredictable, and the arrow vanished into the brambles behind the goblin, who hopped up and down and jeered at Jack.
            Faced with the goblins Andosana was watchful, but remained calm. She slid her bow into its carrying case and drew her shortsword, apparently confident that the goblin nearest her wouldn't be able to strike her. As it turned out, she was right. The goblin yelled insults at her in frustration, but couldn't quite catch the agile elf.
            Poking its head carefully over the wall of the tower, the archer made one more attempt at taking out Git, who it had clearly decided was the most dangerous of them (at least, to it). The arrow struck, and Git could feel his newfound strength waning as the pain of his wounds took their toll.
            Relieved of the goblin that had been riding it, the last goblin dog retreated to the corner of the tower and the fort, snarling a warning at anyone who tried to approach. The unarmed goblin desperately pounded on the fort door, its beady eyes wide as it looked over its shoulder at the adventurers right behind it.
            Across the bridge, the goblins fruitlessly attacked Andosana. The one who couldn't reach her instead made rude gestures at Jack and the party, daring them to come deal with it. It fired an arrow at Jack, managing to hit her despite the wind.

6

            Silence glanced at the locked door, and peered up at the goblin on the tower grimly. She sheathed her sword and dropped her backpack and crossbow to the ground at the foot of the tower wall. Rubbing her hands together, she began to climb.
            Seeing Silence attempting the climb, Barthur grumbles under his breath at the rashness of youth, drops his shield and follows Silence up the wall. "Not by yerself, lass, not by yerself."
            As they sheathed their weapons and prepared to climb, they suffered an almost overpowering urge to scratch their itching skin, which now smelled faintly of goblin dog.
            For Avilyn, the disappointment was worse than a physical blow. She lived her entire life sure of her purpose, certain of her Goddess's love and attention, steadfast in the knowledge that her service and devotion were directed by the divine. The sudden lack of certainty threw her entire world off-kilter. She reeled for a moment, swaying on her feet as she had to physically catch her balance.
            Luckily for her, the goblin was trying to get away and didn't take advantage of her momentary hesitation. She swiped at it again, her attack a little clumsier than she would have liked as she tried to push through the unfamiliar emotion filling her head- doubt.
            That sense of disappointment deepened, the joy of the morning gone. The quick little goblin jumped down from the door and under Avilyn's swings just in time with its skinny arms above its too-wide head, shrieking, "No kill Mudgulp!"

7

            "Aaaaaaaooowwww! Ow! Ow!" Jack bellowed. It had only pinked her, but she liked good drama. It that spirit, Jack decided to get really mad about things. Dropping her bow, she charged across the bridge, howling like a big crazy monkey, and tried to plow straight into the archer.
            Her powerful bow clattered onto the rickety wood planks of the bridge unheeded as Jack charged, making the entire bridge creak alarmingly. She smacked into the goblin so hard it bounced ten feet back down the thistle tunnel it had emerged from, teeth flying in all directions. It crashed into the sharp thorns, letting out a yelp as they scratched and poked it.
            "Good hit," Andosana acknowledged as she stabbed the momentarily dumbfounded goblin perched on one of the bridgeposts.
            Then Git was struck by another arrow from the goblin atop the tower, and this time he did fall - dangerously close to the edge of the cliff. The archer responsible pumped its fist in the air, yelling insults in Goblin.
            The goblin dog that Silence and Barthur approached when heading for the tower snarled at them, but it didn't appear interested in attacking, instead skulking to the corner of the fort farthest from them. Mudgulp, too, darted around Avilyn, obviously going to try to escape down the thistle tunnel.
            Across the bridge, the goblins found that they didn't like their odds - three against two wasn't nearly enough of an advantage for a goblin. The one nearest the mouth of the thistle warren ran away into it, while the one Andosana had stabbed tried one more time for her (and actually managing to scratch the cocky elf) before hopping down from the post, edging back as well. The goblin Jack had knocked into the tunnel tore free of the thorns and sent an arrow Jack's way (which whistled past her ear) before scrambling back itself.
            Silence and Barthur began making their way up the rough sides of the tower, much to the consternation of the archer guarding it. The ramshackle driftwood walls offered plenty of hand- and footholds for the two, but Silence's nimbleness (and greater reach) soon had her in the lead.

8

            Avilyn's sword point wavered and she lowered her weapon. Her voice, when she spoke, sounded nothing like the usually confident young woman. "You... surrender, Mudgulp, and save your life." There was a test before her, she now realized, and she had been failing, Sarenrae forgive her.
            Lent had grunted in satisfaction when his dagger struck true, but his satisfaction was short-lived. He saw Git fall, and Barthur, climbing the wall, didn't look much better. Lent didn't dare to channel Desna's blessing to heal them both, as he couldn't risk bringing the goblins back to their feet as well. "Barthur," he called to the dwarf, "be careful!" With that warning, Lent turned and moved to Git's side, where he released the energy of a spell, praying to Desna that She would take that magic and use it to heal the half-orc.

9

            "This is our bridge now!" Jack declared, gibbering and frothing and turning purple. She felt her mighty inner spirit animal shouting encouragement, and lunged at the nearest goblin. "Hear me?! None shall pass! Blaarrbalarrrrrgh-plbpbbbblpt --"
            She crashed into the goblin, sending it head over heels into the thorns, where it hung cross-eyed and tongue dangling, the dogslicer falling from its limp hand.
            Andosana ducked past, shouting, "Get your bow before it falls off the bridge!" The thorns of the low passage tore at her long hair, but she still advanced on the goblins who had run down it.
            "No, I'll get it!" Lent called to Jack, "You finish them off!" The little gnome then moved carefully towards Jack's bow. Once there, he confirmed that it was just about the right spot, and channeled the love of his Goddess again.

10

            Unable to fire straight down at the climbers, the archer in the tower disappeared from view.
            Despite Avilyn's lowered sword, Mudgulp screeched, "Mudgulp surrender! Mudgulp surrenderrrrrr!" and darted away down the thistle tunnel.
            In the bramble warren, Andosana's goblins ran further down the tunnels, stopping to send arrows back her way.

11

            Silence was the first to reach the top of the tower. There was no sign of the escaped archer, only the dying goblin at her feet, its face and neck deeply gouged, and a crate with a scattered pack of playing cards on and around it.
            The tower afforded a good view of the surrounding area, including an open yard in the middle of the fort, where goblin dogs ran about, fought, scratched at the entrance to an outbuilding, and sniffed at the bodies of two goblins lying slumped in the dust. The roof of the ramshackle fort was a jutting pile of driftwood spars, bits of shipwrecks and wood gathered from the forest. There was a trapdoor in the tower floor, currently shut.

12

            Rationality splashed over Jack like a big old bucket of seawater. Lent's magic was soothing, and she sure didn't want to lose that bow. She blinked at the little goofy monster hung up in the brambles beside her; then down the tunnel, at Andosana's retreating back.
            "Hey, wait!" Jack yelped, suddenly feeling very worn out by the ranger's inexplicable pursuit. "You were supposed to come with -me,- man! Forget those idiots! We're going into the fort! You're screwing up the plan!"
            There was something disturbing about this. Andosana hated goblins, but she wasn't berserk -- right? -- and she couldn't take on the whole warren on her own. Why had she hung back on this side, anyhow? And why didn't she want help? It gave Jack the creeps.
            "Fine, whatever! I'm not following you!" she called, backing away towards the bridge. "I was gonna give you some arrows! Weirdo!"
            Jack turned and loped wearily back towards the others, ignoring the injured goblin completely. When she got to Lent, she said, "She's being elfy, chief. Let's keep going. I still want to be alive when we find what's-er-face."
            Andosana hesitated a moment, then emerged from the tangled warren, cursing. "They'll only harry us if we let them live," she called back, stooping over the goblin caught in the brambles. "Take what arrows you need from them and drop them over the cliff." As if to confirm her words, arrows zipped out of the warren, one of them striking her. She gritted her teeth and ripped the arrow out, cursing again.

13

            Silence stayed low and crouched, hoping none of the goblins would see her up there, but after a peek over the edge, it seemed there were no conscious goblins around.
            She gritted her teeth, forcing herself not to scratch at the rash she'd caught from the goblins below.
            Silence crawled back to the edge she'd climbed over, and reached down an arm to Barthur to help him up.
            "Something wrong here," she said quietly.
            Git came to with the feeling that he'd been blessedly lucky somehow. He took quick stock of the situation and got to his knees, recognizing that he was in no immediate danger, as he saw Silence on the tower from which the goblin had shot him.
            Crawling up behind Avilyn, he pointed at the goblin dog cowering in the corner and breathed a few ancient words. The goblin dog screeched as its hide suddenly stiffened with cold, frost forming on its mangy sides.
            With Silence's help, Barthur clambered over the edge of the wall. Alerted by her comment, he carefully scanned the area. "What happened ta those two, lass?" he asked Silence.
            Silence shrugged, then winced as the movement aggravated the goblin rash.
            At the sound of Barthur's voice, the goblin dogs in the open yard began barking and running back and forth.

14

            The paladin watched Mudgulp run off and turned to survey the battlefield. Everything around her was dead or badly mauled. She had no desire to slaughter the one dog still alive, and she saw that Git was on the ground. She went to one knee next to the sorcerer and put a hand on his shoulder.
            "Sarenrae, forgive me my lapse in judgment. Do not let this man suffer for my transgression. Please, Lady. If it is your will, heal this man."
            It seemed Sarenrae had not turned Her face from Avilyn, though the feeling of disappointment lingered. Strength flowed through her hand and into the half-orc, giving him back color and vigor even as she watched.
            "There could be a hunnert of 'em in there!" Jack called. "We've got our own cover on this side, they'd be crazy to cross. Come on, I'll pin 'em down."
            She took her crap back from the gnome. "Thanks for the help, Lent," she said. "Sort of got distracted for a minute." She drew an arrow and aimed down the tunnel, waiting for a clear target.
            Lent nodded, having handed Jack her bow. "We need to go one way or the other, as a group. Chasing after these is just asking to be ambushed and slain. Standing out here is inviting them to fill us with holes. We're in a bit of a bad spot, but we're in better shape if we can secure a room in that tower. They're not likely to burn their own home down, and we can probably hold them off if there are limited exits. Better still, if we can get to someone or something important to them, we can talk our way into a better situation. Either that, or we go get the others and all retreat together. Either way, we need to get back to the others - now." Lent spoke both to Jack and Andosana.
            "All right, I'm coming back," Andosana called, grabbing the goblin and hauling it with her out onto the bridge. The bridge groaned a protest at their combined weight, but it didn't have to carry them all for long. Andosana released the goblin, nudging it over the side. It fell a long, long way into the churning surf.
            "I didn't get its arrows," the elf grumbled, gesturing for Lent and Jack to move along.
            "Here, use these for now, I'm goin' up front for a minute," Jack said, fumbling to drag out her remaining arrows and handing them to the elf as they retreated.
            The frozen goblin dog made a run for it, scurrying past Avilyn and Git into the briars surrounding the fort.
            In the warren, the goblins cautiously approached again - only for the first one to be met by an arrow from Jack. While it didn't do more than stick in the goblin's makeshift armor (perhaps due to the barbarian's heavy fatigue), it was enough to make the two shaken goblins retreat again.

15

            Silence knelt down carefully next to the trap door, and placed her cheek against the rough wood, listening for sounds from below.
            The urge to drop everything and unabashedly scratch herself was distracting, but through the cracks in the wood her sharp ears picked out the sound of goblins jabbering excitedly below.
            Silence sat up, and looked at Barthur. "Four goblins, maybe more." she said softly. She looked him up and down skeptically. "Are you okay?" she asked "You look as bad off as I feel."
            "Good as gold, gal, good as gold. Call the rest of 'em up here and let's git goin'. The sooner we start the sooner we finish."
            Silence peered over the edge of the tower, down at the bridge and those waiting below.
            "Someone toss up a rope," she said. "We have a way in."
            Jack chugged puffing up to the tower, her bow in one hand and reaching for her big coil of rope with the other.
            "You sure you don't want to try Gogmurt's weird monster hole, over on the side?" she said jokingly, making to toss the rope up to Silence.
            Avilyn let the dog run past her without swinging at it, her posture still uncharacteristically diffident. She nodded at Git and looked up at the rope Jack had tossed to Silence. "Do you think you can make it up there?"
            Git dispatched the last goblin dog with another crackling blast of cold. In short order the group was gathered on the goblins' island. Andosana hauled the fallen goblins and their goblin dogs off the side of the cliff after taking all their arrows. It was a bit far for Jack to throw the rope up to Silence, but shooting it up across the tower tied to an arrow worked better. Soon they had it tied off and ready for the group to climb, if they chose.
            Silence hissed down, "Bring my crossbow, please. Or tie it to the rope."
            Git examined the bridge, but how to prevent more goblins from crossing escaped him.
            "Silence," Git called up, "you know anything about rigging ropes? Perhaps we can rig this bridge to fall or something, so as to keep other goblins on that side of the gap, until we're ready to leave. Never know, it might bring some of the goblins here out to fix it, and we can pick them off from up there." The half-orc indicated the tower with a nod of his head.
            "I guess just cutting it is a dumb idea?" Avilyn shook her head and sighed, still not acting anything like her usual self. "We'd have to find some other way out, but our backs would be safe." The paladin ripped off a dingy piece of cloth from one of the corpses and set to scrubbing the blood off her sword with more vigor than strictly necessary.
            Silence shrugged, and then winced, and gripped her sword tightly.
            "Maybe," she said, slowly forcing herself to relax. "But that's what I would suggest. We'd have to find a way back on our own, but it would simplify our problems in the meantime."
            Jack waved everybody to pass up the crossbow. She shouldered her own bow and tried to secure every piece of junk to minimize the extremely strong likelihood that she would fall on her ass trying to climb.
            "I'm going to fall right on my ass," she said. "Gird yourselves." She rubbed her hands on her stupid heavy hide armor and went to work.
            "Don't worry. I'm sure I'll make a much louder 'bang' when I do it." Avilyn said.
            "Yeah," Jack grunted, scrabbling at the rope like a retarded monkey, "but if we're clinging to pieces of driftwood, trying to float back, they could pick us off pretty easily from that cliff... and if we're carrying dead bodies -- Barthur, I'm looking in your direction -- or, heaven forbid, loot..."
            "Not sure tha's the best idea but it would keep them bastids off our backs.Avi, bring up my shield, if you can, darlin'."
            "You could cut one side completely, and the other side a tiny little bit," Jack grunted. "Some of them might be too scared to cross it that way, or if they try, they couldn't do it very quickly, and not all at once - not without it breaking. And they'll have to leave their dogs behind. And then we can try and fix it, maybe, afterwards. Silence could probably manage to get across, at least..."
            "Go ahead and cut it, Git. We'll figure some way to git back." Barthur said.

16

            Following Jack's suggestion, Git cut one of the ropes holding the bridge up and frayed the other. The bridge dangled over the drop, swaying in the wind with creaky complaints. Then the group gathered their things and (with a good deal of effort, on Avilyn's part) clambered up the side of the tower. Andosana tipped the still-breathing goblin with the face full of talon-marks off the side of the tower with grim satisfaction.
            Lent said a quick prayer of healing just before the trapdoor creaked slightly open, then clunked closed again. Silence and Jack could hear frantic conversation just below.
            Jack handed the crossbow over to Silence, a grim look on her face. "They're on to us."
            "So it appears." Silence makes room for any heavily-armored persons who want to precede her.
            Jack drew one of her short swords, figuring that a goblin fort wouldn't be any more spacious than a goblin warren. "Maybe the fighters better go in first this time? I'm not hurt - for the moment. I don't have a shield, though. Avilyn? Want to give Barthur a break?"
            The young paladin nodded. She still looked a little green around the gills, but she advanced on the door with purpose, sword and shield at the ready.
            Git drew his giant sword and stood to one side of the door, ready to strike should there be an uncharacteristically brave goblin on the other side. Lent whispered a prayer and touched Avilyn, blessing the young woman with Desna's own Luck, then he stepped back.
            Silence nocked a bolt in her crossbow, and knelt on the side of the trap door opposite Git.
            "I'll be right behind you," promised Jack, giving the lovely paladin a supportive nod. "And I'll cover the left, if it's necessary. We might need covering fire, too - Silence or Andosana, you ought to come in third."
            When everybody was ready, Jack reached down, took hold of the edge of the trapdoor, and hauled back on it, the ropey muscles in her arm and shoulder knotting up in preparation for resistance.
            Resistance there was, but Jack was able to haul the door open, revealing two blinking goblins dangling from the iron ring handle. Before they could react, Jack had stabbed one and Barthur lodged his handaxe in the skull of another. There was a yell from below and an arrow whistled past Git; Andosana shot at the goblin still hanging from the ring, but it let go and fell out of sight into the trapdoor, avoiding being skewered.
            A hail of arrows flew up in Git's direction, one bouncing from his invisible armor but another two getting through. Peering down through the trapdoor, the group could see steep, rickety stairs following the wall of the tower to the east, which the wounded goblin was scurrying down. From his vantage, Git could also see a handful of goblins thirty feet below along the northwest walls of the tower, readying another salvo under the exhortation of a bloody-faced goblin.
            Git cursed softly, let fly a bolt of magical force at the leader of the archers, and moved back out of sight of the goblins below. "I am getting tired of goblins with bows," he growled. Keeping low, he quickly described the number and location of the enemy to his companions.
            The already badly-wounded goblin crashed into the wall and slumped to the ground amid a shower of bits of wood, eyes crossed and tongue dangling. Its bow slipped from its fingers to clatter to the rough stone floor.
            Lent was running out of healing, and had begin to doubt the wisdom of pushing forward from here without a rest. Still, it would do the group no good to hide in the wooden tower. Goblins were stupid enough - and pyromaniacal enough - to burn down their entire protective wall just to get to them. He stayed low himself and reached out to touch Silence, granting her the blessing of Desna's guidance in shooting one of the enemy.
            "Lay down your bows and surrender!" Avilyn went down the stairs as fast as she dared, her shield up to cover her face and chest, meaning to close the gap to the crossbow wielding goblins as quickly as possible.
            "We're not here for you jerks!" Jack shouted, ignobly hiding behind her ally as they charged down the steps together. "We just want the long-shanks! Get outta the way!"
            Pushing ahead of Avilyn, she leapt from the steep, uneven stairs to land on the stone floor with a roar, brandishing her two shortswords. The goblin closest to her shrieked in fright.
            Leaning into the hatch, Silence took aim at the wounded goblin scurrying down the stairs and planted a bolt in its back. It tumbled the rest of the way down to the floor and lay still.
            Barthur will wait for Jack and Avi before heading down the stairs. He has his throwing axe in his hand. "Best git outta the way, ya little green runties, the dwarf's a'comin'."
            Andosana took Git's place on the far side of the hatch, firing down into the goblins below, but the awkward angle prevented her from striking. Meanwhile the startled goblins fired at Jack, the arrows getting stuck in her hide armor without piercing through. They dropped their bows and drew dogslicers even as the one Jack had spooked jumped over their fallen leader and fled, slamming the door behind it.
            While Git was busy pulling arrows out of himself, Lent reached out to bless Silence again. Below, Jack closed on the nearest of the remaining two goblins, backing it into a corner with jabs from her two blades but not quite fast enough to hit the dodgy little thing.
            Barthur pushed past the more cautious Avilyn and reached the floor just as Silence moved lightly down the stairs and shot the last unengaged goblin in the gut. Andosana followed, sending an arrow at Jack's goblin that ruffled the barbarian's hair before getting stuck in the wall.
            It didn't take a genius to see the last remaining goblin was in trouble, and it edged toward the door its companion had escaped through while trading blows with Jack. Hacking at her like a maniac, it managed to get in a few cuts before hopping up onto the leader's body and fumbling at the door behind it.
            Lent winced at the sounds of carnage below. He had no problem with goblins dying. He just wished his companions could manage to avoid coming so close to death themselves in the process. The gnome followed Git down the stairs, dagger in hand.
            Git, for his part, was only too happy to see the archers eliminated as he led Lent down the steps. He frowned though, as he did a quick count. "One got away," he rumbled, "hopefully that isn't going to lead to problems - or more archers."
            "Aw, man, now I'm all outta sorts!" Jack roared in the goblin's ear, feeling the sting of the various nicks and gashes she'd suffered and not especially enjoying it. "You move one more inch, I swear we're gonna cut open your head and eat your brains!"
            She hoped Barthur, clanging around somewhere behind her, was not as usual too dead to help.
            Surrounded by adventurers now and backed against the door, the goblin didn't need to understand Jack's words to understand her intent. It dropped its dogslicer with a clang and began to snivel and wail with its arms wrapped around its head, cowering by the door.
            As Silence passed the dead and dying goblins on the way down the stairs, she gave them a quick glance to see if they were carrying (one way or another) any crossbow bolts she could use.
            It appeared that all they had were rough bark quivers of arrows, though her inspection did reveal that they were still breathing. However, looking down at Git, it was apparent that he carried a nearly-full quiver of bolts, though he had no crossbow.
            Git Looked at the carnage and at the sniveling survivor. His face looked troubled for a moment, then he fixed it into a sneer of disdain, and, eldritch blue energy causing his hand to glow, he fired a blast of cold into the floor near the goblin.
            <"Stop you whining, Thistletop tribe never strong enough to beat Khartoun Clan, that why you hide here in bushes by big water. You tell me now, where to find longshanks who friends with Ripnuggett, and I maybe let you live. You lie, I take you across bridge and drop you. I freeze you first, so you no can swim. Be fish foods!">
            Lent checked the fallen while Git threatened the goblin. The gnome checked to see if the goblins were going to survive. He was merely checking, however. He made no effort to aid them.
            The goblin shrieked in terror at Git's display of power. <"Underground! Underground! No drop Gullgut!"> it howled, scrunching itself up into a tiny ball. It was clearly not made of the stuff Gogmurt had been.
            Git rolled his eyes. <"We know 'underground,'"> he said, dismissively. <"You tell us what way to get there.">
            <"Go down stairs!"> the goblin wailed, peeking out at Git from under its armpit. At further prodding, it added, <"Stairs go down beside big doors go to Chief's room!"> Cautiously it lowered its arms, plastering itself against the door. <"You go, no drop Gullgut! Gullgut no tell Chief where you go,"> it promised ingratiatingly.
            "Shure ya won't, ya little runt, specially not after I cave in yer skull," growls Barthur, advancing menancingly on his ancient enemy after his friends translated.
            The little goblin tucked itself back into a ball and began to screech and wail and generally make a ruckus, begging to be let go and getting streamers of green snot everywhere.

17

            A quick check of the fallen revealed that most of them would likely live, if left alone.
            Ignoring the babble, which she couldn't understand, Jack plucked the spent arrows from her armor, briefly examined the scratches on her hands, and exchanged her short swords for her longer one.
            She looked around the tower. As Lent descended the steps, she waggled her sword at him. "Are we moving through immediately? Because if Barthur knocked a couple of these planks out, we could loop some rope from the wall to the door and secure it. Then they'd have to chop their way in; it'd make a lot of noise, and in the meantime we wouldn't have to try and hold it closed ourselves..."
            The paladin took her lead from Jack and spent some time doing equipment maintenance. She drew her sword and cleaned off the blood and gore, checking for nicks, and if they had time she intended to check her mail for damage as well.
            Silence said, "Say, Git. Do you have any need for those crossbow bolts? If not, I could make use of them. "
            Git gave the half-elf a shrug, then most of his bolts. "I have use for some of them, but not all. Here."

18

            Jack rolled her eyes. "Here we go again. Hey, so what's the deal, gang? Are we too messed up to keep going, or should we brave it? I'm not hurt bad, I could go on - but if ol' what's-er-name is as tough as that little flying whatsit back in Sandpoint, can we handle that, or what?
            "Not that we'll necessarily have to kill her, you understand," Jack added hastily, glancing sideways at Avilyn.
            Silence drew her short sword and stabbed the goblin savagely until it stopped making noise. It didn't take long for her to turn the goblin to bleeding meat, though it was a messy job that got goblin blood everywhere. Even Andosana seemed taken aback by Silence's ferocity, but she only moved to listen at the north door for anyone approaching.
            "If I don't strip off my armor and do something about this rash I got from the goblin beasts," Silence said through clenched teeth as she grimly cleaned the blood from her blade, "I am going to start clawing at my own skin until I bleed."
            "The itching will ease within a day," Andosana said quietly, though quiet seemed pointless after the goblin's noise. Turning to Lent, she shook her head. "I don't hear anything, and I don't like it. Stay or go, it's up to you."
            Shaking his head at the loss of the sweet lass that was the Melody he once knew so well, Barthur just grunts, then says, "Aye, we'd best rest a bit. 'Tis a poor smith who overworks his tools."
            "Well... somebody has to go up to the roof, then," said Jack slowly. "I only have a few arrows left, but whoever is going can take them. And my bow, too. Except for Silence, of course. I wouldn't want slime to get all over it. No offense."
            "Funny," Silence said, trying to sound jovial but failing. "We'll see how funny you are when you catch the creeping crud from one of these disease-infested goblin dogs."
            "I'll go," Andosana offered. "I took enough arrows from the vermin for both of us." She passed Jack a bundle of goblin arrows, declining to use a bow other than her own, then climbed the uneven stairs back up the tower. Jack gave the goblin arrows a critical once-over and added them to her depleted store.
            "So we are staying put here to rest for a bit, then?" Silence asked. Without waiting for an answer, she started unlacing her leather armor, forcing herself to go slowly and not rip it off with her bare hands.
            When she was done, she sat in her undershirt with her fists clenched and eyes squeezed shut, forcing her self not to scratch, almost on the verge of tears.

19

            The group was taking a breather. Jack nodded encouragement to Barthur. "C'mon, pal. Time to test all those dwarfly know-how abilities and stuff." She started jiggling the wood on the south wall, looking for pieces that might be loose enough to bust out without collapsing the entire structure.
            "It might be good to hang out as far from the door as possible, gang, in case they decide to come in behind some kinda giant-kablooey-type spell or something," she added.
            "Aye, lass, not a bad plan. Ye've a good head on that freakishly tall body of yers," answers the dwarf, with a big grin to show he was just teasing the tall barbarian. Then, with a quick, admiring glance at Silence's barely clothed body, he sets about trying to brace the door closed. "I could use a bit a' healin', if'n there's any to go around, but other than that, I'm ready to go."
            "Okay," said Jack, feeling a little banged up herself. But Lent wasn't usually sparing with his aid. "I guess I'll work on the higher-up part, here.
            Between the two of them there eventually grew something resembling a blockade across the door. It was not neat work -- but then again it might pass goblin muster.
            While the barricade was being worked on, Lent prepared to channel the love of his goddess - then stopped. "Desna will bless any lucky enough to be still breathing and within range when I call for Her help," he said. "That would include those buggers." Lent indicated the unconscious but stable goblins.
            Git shrugged. "I'll take them upstairs," he rumbled. "The ceiling should prevent the effect, yes?"
            Lent thought about it for a moment, then nodded. "That should work."
            Git nodded, stood, grabbed two of the limp forms by their collars and began dragging them up the stairs. He did not exert any particular efforts to ensure their comfort.
            Avilyn nodded. "I'll help." She went over to the unconscious goblins and picked one up, following Git up the stairs.
            They found Andosana patrolling the towertop restlessly. "There's one down there, trying to fix the bridge," she said quietly as they deposited their goblins. "I haven't picked it off since we might need the bridge ourselves, but that can be remedied if you think it should be." She paced to the other side of the tower, where the goblin dogs were yapping below, then back again. "I don't like the quiet. Quiet means they're sneaking around in there, plotting."
            "I would normally agree," Git said, his deep voice quiet, "but my father's people have found that if you leave goblins to plot for long enough, they will often out-clever themselves. Let us hope that is the case here." The half-orc moved to go down the stairs again, and paused. "I think that a working bridge might be to our benefit, should we need to retreat, but if we do find ourselves in that position, I would not hold out much hope that we could get across said bridge, fight our way through the brambles, and then to safety. I suspect that a working bridge might serve better to bring reinforcements to the goblins than to us." Git flashed a brief smile, revealing his tusks. "Also, if they keep sending out goblins to fix it, it means fewer goblins trying to kill us. At the very least, killing one of them now might buy us more time to think of a way out of this mess."
            "Sounds reasonable to me." Andosana drew an arrow, nocked it and took aim at the little figure working below. The goblin jerked as the arrow struck, turning to stagger back towards the fort, but the arrow must have gone deep, for it lacked the manic speed goblins were known for. Still, it reached the doors as Andosana's second arrow struck its armor, and slipped inside.
            Andosana muttered something in Elvish, scowling down as the doors closed.

20

            "All right," said Jack cheerfully to the dwarf. "What a team! I'll leave you and Avilyn down here to give Silence her sponge bath. I'm going up to the roof now -- cos Andosana is a tool, and cos I can occasionally hit something with an arrow, unlike all you freakishly short people down here."
            Before she left, Lent's prayers gained them Desna's healing. Barthur was still badly injured, but Avilyn added her prayers, and Sarenrae, too, smiled on him.
            As Jack went up the stairs, Lent turned to the others. "Git tells me Andosana has a point, and I agree. If we sit in here too long, the goblins will get 'clever' and try something. I've been in this type of situation before, and it was not pretty. If they have overwhelming numbers, we don't have a lot of hope - especially if they manage to convince Nualia and any friends she might have with her to help out. But if we can keep things limited to just a few goblins at a time, we might have a decent chance. I don't think they'll let us sit in here and rest all night long - much as I'd appreciate them being that stupid. We need a plan of our own. So, what do we have with us that we might make use of?"
            Lent lead off the list, describing what equipment he'd brought with him. Git followed. Then they looked to the others.

21

            On returning to the towertop, Jack found Andosana had dragged the unconscious goblins to the edge of the tower and stacked them there like cordwood. "Just in case," she said cryptically.
            "Ha-ha, yeah, totally," said Jack, wondering what Andosana was up to. As usual. She got her bow together and looked out over the fort, speculating about their prospects up here. Thank crap the weather wasn't too bad.
            "Shame these little goobers are so small," she noted. "We could steal their clothes, try 'n pull a fast one. 'Everything's fine up here, fellers, you can go fuck off.' That'd be awesome."
            "Yes; a shame we didn't keep Gogmurt, after all," Andosana mused. "The little monster might have been of some use." She winced at the continuous yapping of the goblin dogs, and was about to speak again when there was a loud yelp from the other tower. A moment later, a bag was flung out over the west wall; then there was (relative) quiet again.
            "What the..." Jack squinted at the tower. Nothing else happened. She glanced at Andosana. "Okay...! That was weird."
            Nothing happened again. "I wonder what was in that bag," said Jack. "I mean, I don't wonder enough to go find out, but I wonder." She looked out to the northwest, over the roof to the far side of the island. "We've got to work over that way eventually. It's always on the farthest side, dammit. We shoulda sneaked in through that cave Gogmurt told us about, sidestepped this whole area completely. I know there's some sorta monster in there, but if Ripnugget's on to us, what's-er-face probably is, too..."
            "Trusting a goblin is never a good idea," Andosana said dourly. "But they do value their hides. With luck, Silence managed to pry Nualia's location from it without too many lies. She won't be a match for us all, and now we know where their monster is. I'm just waiting for Bruthazmus to show his ugly face." A grim smile touched her lips. "This time he's not walking away."
            "Well, why don't we sneak up on 'em from behind? They all know we're here now. There's goblin dogs over there," Jack said, waving vaguely. "They're already barking, so they can't sound an alarm. If there's a pen over there, there's bound to be another door, too. It might get us closer to the stairs, and maybe throw off the chase a little; at the very least we'd be able to flank 'em."
            She nodded at the goblin stack. "We could pile these bodies over the trap door, so they couldn't lift it and follow us..."
            Andosana nodded thoughtfully, then more decisively. "Not bad. It depends on many things going right, and I would like to be sure of where those stairs are... but who knows how long we have? You should tell the others of your plan." She sighed, eyes narrow as she peered toward the open courtyard. "If those damn goblin dogs would just move to where I can see them..."
            "We can shoot 'em all from the roof, if we get that far," Jack said, bending to lift the trap door. "Better than blundering into them later. As for the stairs, well... if we find 'em at all, it's a matter of luck, I guess. But it always was."

22

            "Aye, we'd best be getting along about our bizness. As my old forgemaster used to say, Best to strike while your iron's hot."
            As though in response, a rapid pounding sounded from the western door. There was a short pause; then a voice called out in broken but understandable Taldane, "Hey, you bigfolks! No have to fight. Mighty Warchief Ripnugget talk with you. You come see him."
            Silence glared at the door, then stood and began donning her armor again.
            <"Tell Chief Ripnugget to come out and talk here!" Lent called back in goblin, <"We not stupid! We go inside, he try trick us, then everyone get dead!">
            "I told him to bring the chief out to us," the gnome said softly to his companions. "I don't think he'll come - he'll feel more confident on his own turf, but it's worth a try."
            "Wait", Silence said, looking down at Lent. "It may be a trap. It probably is. But it's also our chance to get to Ripnugget without killing our way through a hundred goblins. I think we should go."
            Lent looked up at Silence, the casually tossed some more words in goblin over his shoulder through the door.
            <"Tell him if he no come talk out here, he must be coward, afraid of bigfolk! If him come see us here, we know he brave, and strong, and Chief worthy to talk with!">
            "You're right," Lent agreed with Silence, "but there's no sense walking into a trap if we can get him to come out to us, is there? If he refuses to come out, we'll go in, but better to negotiate from a position of strength."
            There was a longer pause this time. Through the cracks in the door, Silence could hear a muttered conversation between two goblins, despite that they weren't just outside - it sounded as though they were down a hallway. Then a goblin piped up again. <"Warchief Ripnugget want you come to throne room! Big honor for you talk to him. You longshanks better come out! Warchief Ripnugget not so patient!"> It sounded a bit desperate to Lent and Git.

23

            There was a longer pause this time. Through the cracks in the door, Silence could hear a muttered conversation between two goblins, despite that they weren't just outside - it sounded as though they were down a hallway. Then a goblin piped up again. <"Warchief Ripnugget want you come to throne room! Big honor for you talk to him. You longshanks better come out! Warchief Ripnugget not so patient!"> It sounded a bit desperate to Lent and Git.
            "In the words of the ancient warrior-philosopher Admi-Rayl Achbahr," Lent said discustedly, "It's a trap."
            Git nodded, and translated the goblins' words for the companions. "They sound desperate," he rumbled. "I don't think Ripnugget will respond well if they fail to get us to open that door."
            Lent's eyes narrowed. "I think we push once more."
            <"You tell Ripnugget to come talk us here, we feel plenty honored. From here, we no can kill him, he no can try kill us. Both us and him safe. We come out, he try kill us, and all Thistletop Tribe get dead! We promise not kill Ripnugget if he come talk us here.">
            "Why did you promise not to kill Ripnugget if he comes out to see us?" Git asked Lent. "Killing him would likely cause the others to scatter. Make our job easier. Besides, he'd never keep a promise like that, so he's not going to trust that you will."
            "Maybe," Lent conceded, "but making the promise might help at least get him thinking that he can take advantage of us."
            The young paladin nodded. Unlike under the Glassworks, the stunning redhead had not managed to stay spotless this time. Her yellow and blue tabard was stained with blood and gore, not all of it goblin. She looked tired and something was indefinably off about her, but she stood straight and looked confident all the same. "Everyone deserves a chance, Git."
            Git nodded, but looked more convinced by Lent's argument than Avilyn's. After all, he knew what a clever person could do with that 'chance,' if it was given. He was living proof.
            Jack scrambled down into the tower, stopping just within distance of being audible. "Hey! Hey guys! We might have thought of something up here." She quietly outlined her plan. "If we work it right, we could buy ourselves a few extra minutes, cross the roof and take out the dogs before they know which direction we're heading."
            Avilyn shrugged. "It's a plan. Better than what we've got now." She looked to Lent for confirmation.
            Lent thought for a moment, then spoke softly. "Assuming they didn't just hear everything you just said, that might work. But what do we do about Ripnugget's messengers here?" He indicated the outside of the door.
            Silence could hear the low conversation of the goblins; they sounded a bit frantic. One called back, <"Last chance, stupid longshanks! You be big cowards if you no come out! Warchief Ripnugget no make deal with you like last longshanks!"> The goblin's voice sounded almost pleading. Chances were that Warchief Ripnugget wouldn't like the message the goblins would have to carry back.
            "They sound desperate," Silence said thoughtfully.
            "I think Jack's plan is a good one, but this is an opportunity to talk directly with their chief. If it goes well, we could ourselves a lot of time. The longer we're here, the more hurt we get, and the weaker we'll be when we finally find the ex-priestess behind the attack on the glassworks."
            "Agreed," Lent said.
            <"Tell you what,"> Lent called back the goblins in their own tongue, <"Why not bring the other longshanks out to meet us? Then Ripnugget safe, and longshanks can make deals together.">
            <"Stupid ugly longshanks! You no talk to Warchief Ripnugget, now he make you dead!"> threatened the goblin. Then it fell silent; likely gone to deliver Ripnugget some unwelcome news.
            Silence listens.
            "I think they've gone," she says, frowning. "That's odd." She looks around to make sure she hasn't left anything behind. "Well, I suppose they expect us to follow. Everyone ready?"
            "You know," Git said thoughtfully, "that isn't a half-bad idea."
            Lent looked up at the half-orc with a puzzled expression. "They went to tell Ripnugget we aren't going to come meet with him, how-" The gnome stopped.
            "Yes," Git said. "If we rush to follow them now, we could maybe get inside..."
            Lent shook his head. "No, they're probably hoping we do that. It's still a trap." The gnome shrugged. "We could wait. It's remotely possible that they'll do as I asked, and bring the 'other longshanks' out to negotiate with us."
            Git shook his head in turn. "It's probably best that we follow Jack's plan now. Even if they do bring Nualia out to talk, we're better off being somewhere they don't expect us to be, just in case. We can negotiate from the rooftops just as easily as from in here."
            Avilyn nodded, impressed again by the half-orc's quickness of thought. "Yes, let's not be where they expect us to be. If they want to talk, they won't mind. If they don't..." she shrugged, "best we move elsewhere."
            Silence looks from Git to Lent, then shakes her head impatiently and turns to Barthur.
            "What do you think? If we are going to follow, we need to do it now. But one way or another, we need to not be _here_ when they come back."
            Jack glanced at the dwarf, then the others. "Can we face down Nualia and Ripnugget and their whole crew all at once? It's obviously a trap! Let's get the hell out of here. We ought to light this room on fire, give 'em something to deal with while we make a break for it..."
            Silence waited a few seconds for Barthur to reply, and eventually shrugged and turned to Jack. "Right, then. Anywhere is better than here. Lead the way."
            Jack looked from Silence to Barthur, unsure. He seemed to be listening for something, but obviously not his own name.
            "Er, sounds good," said the Shoanti. She gathered the remains of her rope and handed it off to the first person to pass her on the way up the staircase. "Use this to get down to the roof, then head for the open area with the barking dogs. Andosana and I will cover the other tower with bows until you all get there. Take out those dogs! If somebody has a good way to light this place up -- like that other door, for example -- I suggest you do that! We need time..." She unlimbered her bow.
            Silence stepped to Jack, and then waited for the Shoanti to lead the way. After a few seconds of her looking at Jack holding a rope, and Jack holding a rope looking back at her expectantly, Silence said, "Ah. I see. Very well."
            Silence held out her hand for the rope. "Show me where you'd like me to go. I'll tie the rope off to something, and you can follow."
            "Andosana will point the way," Jack said, waving everybody forward. "Just make for the barking dogs and keep an eye on the other tower, there might be a couple of goblins up there. And get a bolt ready, if you can."

24

            Even as the group climbed onto the top of the tower, furious pounding began down at the two doors at the bottom. It didn't sound like someone wanting them to answer - it was the steady thud of attempts to break down the doors, accompanied by howls and jabbering. Bits of wood cracked and fell from the doors and walls under their onslaught.
            Silence tied Jack's knotted rope off on a protruding spur of wood, then began climbing down towards the ramshackle roof of the fort, ignoring the horrible itching of the goblin dog rash. The goblins on the other tower, on seeing her go over the edge, jumped up and down and made threats only Git and Lent could understand (their jumping making them fine targets for Andosana, who was kneeling behind the towertop wall).
            Once Silence was down on the maze of a rooftop, she moved toward the yard full of barking goblin dogs - only to be struck by a javelin that had arced its way high over the jutting wooden wreckage from the direction of the other tower. A second javelin stuck harmlessly in a beam near her.
            Behind her, Avilyn began the slow climb down from above, with Barthur ready to follow. Then there was a squeal as Andosana more or less removed one of the javelin-throwers from the equation.
            "Nice shot," said Jack, giving a hand down to Git, the last man onto the tower roof. Behind them, the rest of the crew worked its way down her rope.
            While Git went to work piling bodies up over the trap door, she squinted out over the roof and drew an arrow to her string. "Git and I both move pretty fast," she said to Andosana. "Why don't you head on to the front line and figure out how to get rid of those dogs. I'll cover you while you move."
            Andosana nodded shortly, then glanced at where Barthur was waiting to climb down. "After the others have gone. We can cover them better from up here."
            Git yelled something in an ugly language, and Jack cringed. "Dang, they're gonna be even more pissed now, aren't they..."
            Git bared his tusks at Jack. "I thought they might like to know the tower's on fire," he rumbled.
            "The tower is _what?"_ Andosana stared at the two. "Are you crazy?!"
            Git just smiled at the elf. "I'm hoping they'll think so. Might distract them from putting arrows and javelins into us for a while."

25

            Silence fell to her hands and knees, narrowly avoiding tumbling from the off-kilter roof of the fort. Bracing herself with one hand, she gripped the shaft of the javelin and pulled it from her thigh. Fortunately, her armor had blunted the force of the throw, and the javelin hadn't done much more than give her a nasty cut. She'd have to wash that later and have Lent bless the wound. Gods alone knew what horrific filth had been on the javelin's tip.
            She released the javelin, letting it fall clattering down the roof to the courtyard below, and continued making her way carefully to the other tower.
            She was hit twice more as she ventured toward the western tower, losing the benefit of the cover the rough spurs of wood jutting from the roof had granted as she got closer, but finally she stood beside it. Andosana and Jack peppered the tower with arrows, but didn't seem able to make another easy strike now that the goblins were more careful.
            At long last first Avilyn, then Barthur made it to the fort's roof, with Lent right on Barthur's heels (or rather, right over his head). Seeing them well on their way, Andosana stowed her bow for the climb down.
            Down by the front of the fort there was a commotion: Jack saw the doors get flung open so hard they bounced, and out of the dim interior goblins began to pour out.
            Jack ducked her head, trying to get a little cover behind the parapet (such as it was), while Andosana finally reached for the rope. "Git, it's just you and me!" she hissed. "Are you ready? I'll keep his head down."
            She grabbed after another arrow and aimed again at the tower, wondering why now, of all times, her good fighting luck had abandoned her. She squinted and spotted, Silence, once again hurt and veering off in a different direction.
            Silence knelt where the roof met the wall of the tower, and drew her sword. Bleeding, itching like mad... she took a deep breath, and tried to focus on what she could see and hear. She wanted an easy entrance to where the goblins were, so she could kill them. Lacking that, she wanted a place where the construction was more slipshod than average, where she could smash or pry at with her sword, and expose -- or at least distract -- the goblins behind.
            "You gotta be kidding me," Jack groaned, aiming. "Is she gonna -chop- it down...?"
            The goblin above threw another javelin at Silence, but the awkward angle and the half-elf's wariness combined to let the weapon stick in the roof instead of Silence. Meanwhile, the goblins that had emerged from the fort scampered over to the walls and started climbing.
            Avilyn picked her way toward Silence across the tangle the goblins called a roof, taking pains to stay away from the edge and the goblins below.
            Barthur followed the paladin across the rooftop, and Andosana began the climb down.
            The climbing goblins were followed by two more, one of them on a lizard the size of a pony. They too began to climb, the rider letting its lizard carry it up with astonishing speed. At least the flood of goblins had ebbed.
            "Actually," Git said thoughtfully, "I think she means to take and hold the tower." He looked over the side of the tower and saw the goblins spilling out. "You might want to take advantage of our position, and the goblins below who think the building is on fire," he suggested to Jack. "They don't have cover." With an effort of will, Git sent an emerald bolt of light streaking between the mismatched planks making up the wall of the other tower, heading for a javelin thrower.
            The bolt smashed into the javelin-thrower's head, causing a high-pitched squeal to sound from the other tower.
            The half-orc then lifted his booming voice to shout in Goblin. *<"Fire! The tower is on fire! It will kill us all! Run!">
            "I was kidding about Silence, Git," Jack said dryly, aiming at the lizard-rider down below instead. "We need to get the hell out of here. And I don't think these guys are buying the am-dram. No offense."
            Jack's aim suddenly shifted a third time, down along the side of the south wall. "Swords out, all!" she loudly shouted, sounding a little tense. "Creeps are coming up!"
            Jack shouted a warning to those on the fort roof as she targeted the lizard-rider, who she could see wore a dented little crown. Her arrow whizzed by it, and it shouted to the others, waving a dogslicer meaningfully.
            Silence waited by the tower for help to arrive, suffering another small gash from a javelin from above.
            Most of the goblins climbed steadily up the fort's wall as Avilyn made her way over to Silence, but Barthur stayed behind, moving closer to the front of the fort to see the new threat.
            One of the goblins was having trouble pulling itself up the rough wall. On the rooftop, Andosana dropped down and moved around the corner of the tower, drawing her bow.
            Before she could so much as nock an arrow, the huge lizard had scampered up the wall and onto the towertop, the crown-wearing goblin astride it giving Git a vicious cut with its dogslicer that was turned away inches from the half-orc by his magical armor. <"Get out of way, longshanks! Ripnugget kill you good for set fire to Thistletop!">
            Git stepped back, making sure to do so in a way that was obviously clearing room to fight, and not showing fear. He sneered at Ripnugget, drawing a wand from his belt. *<"You called Ripnugget? That 'cause you a nugget of crap, ripped off of backside of real warrior clan!"> With a gesture, a word, and an effort of will, Git sent a ray of icy cold shooting towards the goblin.
            Ripnugget was too quick; the ray missed him by a whisker as he twisted low in the lizard's saddle.
            Jack was pretty wigged out by lizards, especially ones that could climb watchtowers like they were nothing. With Git blabbering at the little creep, it seemed like a good time to take the thing out. She drew her awesome long sword in a flash and took a big lunge at it, betting it might be at least as dangerous as the goblin himself.
            The lizard (which fortunately didn't appear to be a horned spirestalker like those on the Storval Plateau) seemingly hadn't noticed Jack's approach - but Ripnugget had. He spurred the lizard hard to the side, ruining Jack's deadly attack. It seemed this wouldn't be an easy fight.
            Lent was quick enough to see the situation changing drastically, but he feared he might not be quick enough to do anything about it. He whispered a quick prayer to his goddess, then darted forward through the uneven terrain of the roof as if it was a well-paved highway. As he moved, the gnome waved his hand and caused a few gallons of water to appear in mid-air above the goblin climbing the tower. Hopefully, the sudden deluge would knock the thing free of the wall.
            The goblin squawked as water suddenly drenched it, but it managed to cling to the wall without dropping, though it stopped climbing as it looked around in confusion for the source of the deluge.
            Silence cursed in Dwarven (the only Dwarven she knows), as yet anther javelin grazed her.
            "Okay, waiting for them to run out of spears is not a viable plan. And it looks like reinforcements are on the way. New plan."
            With that, she turned toward the tower ball, gripped her short sword tightly, crouched, and leapt as high as she could, and started climbing as fast as she could to the nearest gap in the makeshift crenelations at the top, stabbing her sword into tiny cracks between the boards and using the pommel to help her climb.
            There were squeals of fright from above as Silence climbed, and another javelin whizzed by her. On the rooftop behind her, Barthur was ready as a goblin clambered up and drew its dogslicer - he planted his handaxe in its side, and it screeched with pain. But another goblin was on its heels, menacing the dwarf.
            Those facing Ripnugget heard muffled thumps and goblin shouts coming from below the body pile on the trapdoor. It seemed the goblins had finally broken down the doors at the bottom of the tower.
            Avilyn eventually made it to the western tower, standing below Silence as the half-elf climbed. On examination, it seemed that it might be possible to hack her way into the tower, but it would take time - the shoddy wall had to be at least a foot thick.
            On the ground, the goblin who hadn't managed to climb up backed up so that it could see the towers - and began to sing in a shrill, scratchy voice. Those who could understand the goblin tongue heard it sing a morbid song:

"Goblins chew and goblins bite.
Goblins cut and goblins fight.
Stab the dog and cut the horse,
Goblins eat and take by force!

Goblins race and goblins jump.
Goblins slash and goblins bump.
Burn the skin and mash the head,
Goblins here and you be dead!

Chase the baby, catch the pup.
Bonk the head to shut it up.
Bones be cracked, flesh be stewed,
We be goblins! You be food!

WE BE GOBLINS OF THISTLETOP!
Break them, kick them, make them sick them!
WE BE GOBLINS OF THISTLETOP!
Mash them, crash them, grab and smash them!
WE BE GOBLINS OF THISTLETOP!

Dead of night
Is time to fight
Cut and crush,
And burn and bite!

Hunt the meat
That bleeds and cries
Hobble feet
And gouge out eyes!

Break their fingers!
Box their ears!
Stake them on
A bed of spears!

Fall upon them
In a gang
By their guts
We make 'em hang!

With a wheezing
Gasp of breath,
They will beg
Their gods for death!

WE BE GOBLINS OF THISTLETOP!
Break them, kick them, make them sick them!
WE BE GOBLINS OF THISTLETOP!
Mash them, crash them, grab and smash them!
WE BE GOBLINS OF THISTLETOP!"

26

            As Jack retrieved her bow, a goblin crawled over the side of the tower wall, grinning maniacally. Git could hear Ripnugget not far behind it, exhorting it to kill all the longshanks. The thumping beneath the pile of bodies ceased.
            The goblin attacking Barthur took advantage of his dazed state to stab him, but then the fire went out of its eyes and it blinked, looking around with the dawning realization that it was alone... as Avilyn approached it and the blank look left Barthur's face.
            The chanter faltered when Lent dumped several gallons of water over her, but continued her song and retaliated by nicking the gnome with an arrow.
            Andosana, seeing the goblin by Barthur and Avilyn as well in hand, fired at Ripnugget, but missed.

27

            Stickfoot popped up over the side of the tower, but not quite where Git was expecting, and the ray of icy cold that sprang from his fingers missed the startlingly fast lizard. Ripnugget screamed in triumph as he rode Stickfoot past Jack, the gecko biting her hard and Ripnugget gashing her badly with his shining dogslicer. They spun about beyond her, Ripnugget leering as he licked the blood from his blade.
            Lent had just put his full weight on a branch sticking out of the tower when it broke, sending him tumbling back to the rooftop. Fortunately he hadn't climbed that high (and didn't land on any jutting bits of wood), and only suffered a few bruises and some splinters.
            Silence slammed the rough-hewn trap door closed, and ran to look down on the roof where the rest of the team was. The goblins were still coming.
            "Waste not, want not," she said, and picked up a javelin.

28

            Things looked grim up on the tower as the goblin that had been climbing the tower made it over the side and drew its dogslicer. At the same time, two more goblins came running from inside the fort, clearly intending to climb up the east tower. "No fire, Warchief!" they screamed in Goblin over the singing goblin's caterwauling and the incessant yapping of the goblin dogs. "Longshanks lied, no fire!"
            Barthur and Avilyn were having a hard time striking their flanked foe, who, like any cornered rat, was proving dangerous as it stabbed Barthur again. The dwarf was bleeding from all the cuts it had given him, and didn't look like he could fight much longer. Even Andosana couldn't seem to hit the little monster with her arrows.

29

            Git was now wishing he hadn't piled those bodies quite so deep. Dropping back into the tower might have been a nice option to have available at the moment. He didn't have the ability to bull-rush the lizard and its rider over the side like Jack, and after the abuse she'd just taken, Git wasn't sure _Jack_ still had the ability to do it again. Still, Git had a trick or two up his sleeve. "No fire YET," he corrected the goblin's report under his breath. Unfortunately, burning the place down would have to wait. For now, he would go the other direction. <"Congelo,"> he snarled in Draconic, and let loose at the gecko with another blast of frigid air.
            This time he aimed true, and the giant gecko sank to the towertop with frost riming its scaly hide. Ripnugget tried kicking his heels into the lizard with no response; then he hopped out of the saddle, drawing a familiar-looking potion from a pouch.
            Jack took her hand off the shoulder Ripnugget had cut and looked at it. It was all red. She didn't bother to draw her sword agin. She looked up at Ripnugget and his dumb frozen lizard. He was next to the edge of the roof. Could he really be that dumb?
            She crossed the roof in a flash after Git's attack unexpectedly did the trick, wanting to take advantage of whatever effect losing his pet might have on Ripnugget's crappy little heart. Raising her big bow to swat him, she made her best Shoanti face-n-yell, using her size and bloodiness to whatever effect she could manage. He was a fighter, not a shaman, so he might not keel over like Gogmurt had, but she wasn't sure she could take much more either.
            "Why won't you be friends with me!" she shouted in his face.
            "Possibly he's not the type to appreciate your charming personality," Git suggested, before jabbing at the goblin next to him with the wand in his hand. "Get that potion from him - it's probably heal-juice!"
            Git's goblin jerked and sputtered as sparks flew off it, then fell to the floor twitching.
            Ripnugget skittered away from Jack as she yelled, his beady eyes nearly popping out of his head. "You no friends, you try kill Ripnugget!" he squeaked in Taldane. With shaking hands he grabbed Stickfoot's snout and poured the potion into it. The visible cuts in its hide vanished and it rose, its eyes focusing on Jack. It snapped out at her, but was still too groggy to catch the Shoanti.

30

            Lent picked himself up and quickly realized that he wasn't going to be getting up the side of that tower any time soon - not without help, anyway. Instead, he called upon his Goddess once more and bounded over the rooftop back towards Avilyn and Barthur.
            Silence hefted one of the small javelins; it was strangely light compared to others she had thrown. Still, she lobbed it at one of the goblins that had emerged from the fort. It stuck in the dirt a whisker away from its intended target, making the goblin jump and snarl something. Its fellow began climbing the tower wall, but it turned and ran over towards Silence, disappearing from her view as it began to climb the fort.
            Barthur finally cut down the goblin he was flanking with Avilyn, but atop the east tower, the goblin who had made it to the top eyed Git and ran over towards this apparently easy prey. It lunged for the half-orc's guts - and bounced off the invisible armor that covered him.
            Andosana hit the tower climber with an arrow, but it continued upwards despite the shaft protruding from its body.
            Lent slowed down, picking his way across the roof more carefully. With a wave of his hand and a prayer to his goddess, he attempted once again to dislodge a climbing goblin with a deluge of water. "Avilyn, Barthur," he suggested, "dump those goblins over the side, so they're out of range of Desna's blessings."
            The goblin squalled as it was hit by the water, losing its grip and falling fifteen feet to the ground, where it hit like a sack of potatoes.
            Avilyn half turned to look at Lent, a frown on her face, then turned back to the fallen goblins. "Forgive me, Goddess, but I do not think Desna would care to have these creatures touched by her blessing." The paladin did as Lent bade her, scooping up the goblins and dumping over the side.
            Silence drew her short sword and stabbed it into a crack in the tower wall within easy reach, so she'd have it handy if a goblin's face should peek over the wall. Then she grabbed another javelin and prepared to throw it when the goblin came into view.
            Barthur joined Avilyn in dumping the goblins over the side of the fort. As they were preparing, a goblin climbed onto the rooftop and scampered toward Silence's tower, avoiding a shot from Andosana by ducking behind a spar.
            The singing goblin (if you could call it that) finally fell quiet, scurrying over to the goblin that had been knocked off the tower by Lent's water. She tugged at its arm and it stirred, blinking in confusion.

31

            Silence, from her vantage point atop the tower, had a near-perfect view of the events unfolding across the gap.
            "Jack!" she shouted. "Try pushing him off the roof!"
            "What the fuck, Ripnugget!" Jack screeched, jerking her arm out of the way of the lizard's mouth. "You're, like, totally being a jerk and what-not!" She foamed at the mouth a little and decided to try and push him off the building again. It wasn't a great plan, but what the hey.
            Ripnugget went over the side again with a howl that ended in a screech of pain, cursing creatively in Goblin from the base of the tower where he'd fallen. Without its rider, Stickfoot blinked uncertainly, staring at Jack and Git.

32

            Barthur joined Avilyn in dumping the goblins over the side of the fort. As they were preparing, a goblin climbed onto the rooftop and scampered toward Silence's tower, avoiding a shot from Andosana by ducking behind a spar.
            Once they were done throwing the goblins over the side, Avilyn turned to scan the rooftop again. Seeing the goblin running for Silence's tower, Avilyn moved as quickly as she could to intercept it.
            The goblin snarled and made what it probably hoped was a scary face as the heavily armored paladin stepped into its path, its eyes darting about for a way around her.

33

            Git bared his tusks again in a grin, then stepped to the side, off of the pile of goblins, and let fly once more with a ray of cold, aiming to return the lizard to its previous condition. "Well done, Jack, now kill the scaly thing," he suggested.
            The gecko emitted a grinding noise as Git froze its hide, then turned tail and fled over the side of the tower, climbing down and along the side as though it were level ground, heading for the back of the fort.
            "Awright awready! Everybody knock it off with the suggestions 'n' crap!" Jack yelped, still bent out of shape and not liking it when Git shot freezy rays right next to her head.
            That stupid lizard-thing was way too goddamned fast and it gave her the creeps, but as much as she wanted to finish it off, Jack knew Ripnugget was gonna be the real problem - especially if he had more of those magic juice packs.
            She scuttled over to the eastern edge of the tower, drawing a crappy goblin arrow and looking down into the bushes for a target. Jack felt pretty lousy and tired, and was also having kind of a low self-esteem moment, because her big hot plan had turned out to be pretty crappy. Heights didn't help much, either, especially when you'd lost most of your internal fluids and had lizard slobber all over you.
            "Come up and be friends with me, y' jackass! I'm lonely!" she yelled at Ripnugget, by way of encouragement.
            Her arrow bounced off the goblin's shiny breastplate, and Ripnugget shook his fist at her, surprisingly brave for a goblin.
            Lent stopped for a moment, caught between healing Barthur immediately and making the most efficient use of Desna's grace. "Barthur," he asked, "can you climb the rope, get back up on the tower?" Lent moved as he spoke, picking his way across the roof to the dangling rope, but remaining close enough to help Barthur if the dwarf should need it.
            Avilyn traded blows with the last goblin on the roof, neither making any headway. Silence tried to support her with her little javelins, but it was difficult with the combatants ducking back and forth, and in her care not to hit Avilyn, Silence missed the goblin, too. Finding itself alone before unpleasant odds, it finally backed away and scampered off to begin climbing down the wall again.
            Taking the moment's respite to scratch at his skin furiously, Barthur made his way over to Lent. "Damn goblin dogs!" Eyeing the rope dubiously, he glanced at the gnome. "Why don't Jack and Git come down, instead? I'm no squirrel, runnin' up and down wood like this!" There was a hint of weariness in his voice - his wounds taking their toll on his spirit.
            The goblins on the ground moved back to where they could see Silence, one stringing its bow and the other shooting at her, but she ducked behind the makeshift "crenelations" when she saw them, and wasn't hit. Seeing the shot, Andosana moved to shoot at the goblins, but they were too fast for her.
            Git leaned over the side of the tower and glanced down at Ripnugget. "Not so big without your ride, eh?" Git then seemingly dropped a crossbow bolt carelessly over the side of the tower. With the bark of a short word, the bolt suddenly flew towards Ripnugget as if shot from a crossbow. Without waiting to see if his attack had struck, Git turned to survey the situation for his allies.
            Jack saw the bolt strike - and bounce right off Ripnugget's oversized head. Rubbing the spot where it had struck, Ripnugget stuck his fingers in his mouth and whistled sharply. On the side of the fort, Stickfoot hesitated in its flight, then reluctantly turned and moved back toward the goblin, its mouth open in an unhappy hiss as it slithered to the ground beside him.
            Jack was getting used to Git doing things like this. She scrabbled for another arrow, feeling like she must be getting low on them again.
            "Ripnugget! Don't be a little grumpy gremlin!" she yelled down at him, drawing a bead. "We've got the high ground, fer cryin' out loud! Let's work something out!"
            Her arrow didn't even come close to striking the goblin. "What you longshanks want from Ripnugget? Maybe we talk, if you no try kill Ripnugget," the Warchief called back.

34

            Silence hefted a javelin and called out from the top of the tower. "Is that it? Are there any more?"
            The paladin wondered the same thing. "I don't see any!" Avilyn followed the retreating goblin but didn't attack it, content to let the little beast go if it had given up trying to kill her and her friends.
            Not having much else to do up in the tower, Silence readied her short sword, and cautiously opened the trap door.

35

            "I think they may need our help, old friend," Lent said, his voice equally weary. If we go up to them, I we're in a more defensible spot, and I think Jack could use some help splitting that big goblin's thick skull. Let's go now, up the rope. Use the wall for balance."
            "Splittin' goblin heads is like splittin' wood - there's always more," Barthur said with a sigh, grabbing hold of the rope and laboriously hauling himself upward, using the rough wall to half-walk up the side. Lent followed the dwarf up.
            On the ground, one goblin switched targets from Silence to Andosana, though it missed her. The other finished clambering down the wall and ran over to draw its own bow - but the warchanter had other ideas. Drawing a wand from her belt, she pointed at the nearby briars and shouted something - and the briars suddenly grew out to engulf the three goblins. Andosana fired into the leafy mass of thorns anyway, then squinted at them suspiciously. "That briar patch isn't real!"
            Looking closer, Avilyn could see that the leaves weren't moving in the wind, and the goblins seemed to be moving just fine in the "briars."
            "You're a bad liar, Ripnugget," Git called back to the goblin. "And you're far too attached to that lizard. Let me help you break your habit." Git flipped another crossbow bolt over the side of the tower. This time the bolt streaked, not towards Ripnugget, but instead towards the gecko the goblin chief used as a mount.
            The bolt missed, but served to infuriate the goblin chief further. "You be sorry!" Ripnugget raged, hopping into the gecko's saddle. He rode the animal up the side of the tower at Jack, dangling off the side as he slashed at her, but she just stepped back and avoided the attack.
            "Wait! Wait!" Avilyn looked towards the tower. "That's all we've wanted from the start! Let's talk! You call off your people and we stop fighting!"
            "You first!" Ripnugget yelled, and bared his ugly yellow teeth at Jack and Git.
            Jack couldn't believe this guy. What would possess him to keep coming back up and attacking her, especially now that the others were backing her up? No wonder Gogmurt was willing to sell him out!
            "Leave your girlfriend downstairs and we'll talk about it!" she yelled back, and threw her considerable weight into Stickfoot's meaty shoulder.
            She was too pooped out to do it this time. Jack found herself sagging back, disheartened and too slow to get out of the way.
            "Or we can talk about it now, I guess," she wearily mumbled.

36

            Silence stepped over the brine-smelling goblin she had dropped from above and carefully made her way down the open flight of rickety wooden stairs, much like the stairs in the other tower. There was no sound but the shouting of the combatants and the yapping of the goblin dogs from outside; nothing stirred in the tower that she saw. From the first landing she could see two sets of doors leading into the fort - double-doors, unlike those in the eastern tower.

37

            "Don't listen to it!" Barthur yelled as he slowly climbed the wall. "Goblins'r born liars!"
            Lent frowned as he climbed, worried that another of the group was falling victim to the depression and lack of faith that had characterized so many of his companions since the Festival. The gnome whispered a prayer to Desna on his friend's behalf as he reached the top of the tower. A quick look around to ensure there were no enemies on the tower top brought another frown to Lent's face. "We're going to have to get rid of those goblins," he said. "Down the steps or over the side."
            Below, the goblins behind their shield of "briars" shot at Andosana, but despite the injuries they caused, Andosana coolly took aim and pinned one's skull to the bridge post behind it, eliciting squawks of surprised fear from the other two. "Listen to Barthur, Avilyn," she said as she paused to yank the arrows out of her leg. Her voice was grim. "They defend their nests like rats, but without as much honor."
            Git wasn't talking - at least, not in a language any of the others understood. Another blast of freezing air shot from his finger towards the gecko.
            Injured though it was, Stickfoot darted away from the attack, ducking below the wall only to pop up again with Ripnugget aiming his blade for Git's heart. The lizard lunged at Git, and while Ripnugget didn't quite strike true, Git took several greivous wounds, his magic notwithstanding. This goblin was definitely more dangerous than the others they had faced, even Gogmurt. The half-orc did manage to stab his wand into Stickfoot's side, shocking the gecko as it moved past.
            Unfazed, Ripnugget gloated loudly. "Who be dead now, long-tooth? You be sorry you try kill Ripnugget!"
            "Dammit! We all want the same thing! Ripnugget, come over here and talk to me! I won't attack you!" Avilyn slammed her sword into it's scabbard to make her point. There were no goblins near her and she could have it out again in a heartbeat, but it was a gesture of goodwill.
            "You stupid asshole!" Jack shouted in a hoarse voice, gripping her sword in both hands as she took a step behind the pile of goblin bodies. "You think you can beat all of us yourself? Look around, buddy -- you're a one-dork army! Now help us find the longshanks or we'll feed your children to the dogs...!"

38

            Barthur had taught Silence that when exploring a new cave, or even a familiar one, getting separated from the group was a bad idea.
            She went back up to the top of the tower, and waved at the others.
            "Clear this way," she said loudly in Elvish, "if you guys can get up here."
            On the tower across from her, Barthur moved over to the others and drew his axe, glowering about. Still, he took a moment to raise his hand at Silence in acknowledgement, though she knew he didn't speak a word of Elvish.
            BArthur finally out of his way, Lent climbed over the side of the tower and looked around. His blood went cold at seeing the situation up close. His friends were obviously in need of Desna's blessings, but if he channeled the healing touch of his Goddess, he would likely bring some or all of the six fallen goblins back to their feet as well, and that was as good as cutting their own throats.
            "Avi," he called, "quit wasting time and get up here! He's lying! He's going to kill us all, if you give him half a chance!" Stepping quickly to Barthur's side, Lent dug in his belt pouch and pulled out a glass vial. "Barthur, drink this." To the others, Lent made a suggestion, "dump those bodies over the side."
            Barthur awkwardly accepted Lent's vial with his shield hand, while below, Andosana exchanged arrows with the goblins in the illusory bushes. Git grabbed hold of one of the goblins in the pile over the trapdoor and hurled it over the side at Ripnugget, who spurred Stickfoot away just in time.
            "You longshanks big talk, but Ripnugget know better," the goblin chieftain sneered, puffing himself up. He steered Stickfoot around the corner of the tower, waving his dogslicer pompously. "Talk big to fool Ripnugget, but Ripnugget smart. Goblins tough, Thistletop goblins more toughest! I take us to longshanks town again, this time we burn everything all up! And Ripnugget got big secret too. Then all goblins do what Ripnugget say!" For all his talk, though, he didn't approach the top of the tower again - at least, not yet.
            Avilyn made a disgruntled noise and nodded at Lent's comment. She had tried again and again to get te goblins to talk to her, tried to explain their common interests, offered her hand in peace more than once. Nobody could say she hadn't tried.
            And yet, she could still feel her Goddess's displeasure at her earlier killings. Rather, she could no longer feel Sarenrae's presence. Without that constant reassurance that her actions were mandated by her goddess, that what she was doing was right and good, Avilyn was rudderless.
            She gritted her teeth and nodded again. If she lacked a rudder, there were worse people to follow than Lent. "I'm coming!" Avilyn moved as quickly as she could to get to the tower and scale the wall where her friends were battling the goblin chieftain.
            Jack kept her sword out. She was still pretty wiped out. Let Git and Lent throw goblins if they liked; once Ripnugget climbed up again it was just her and Barthur to fight him off and Barthur, god bless him, had even less luck than she did. Usually. She wanted to get her bow again, but she would wait for Avi.
            "You're gonna be burning that town by yourself, dipshit!" she shouted down at the goblin chief. "You're out of friends and your plans are kind of not very good! Yeah, I see you edgin' away, you little bastard! I'll burn this miserable little hole to the ground with your nasty fat little grubs inside!"
            "Hmm." Good, bad, or indifferent, Ripnugget was one tough little monster. Silence took up one of the goblin's javelin's and waited for an opportune moment to throw it at Ripnugget.
            Barthur fumbled with the vial Lent had given him, finally managing to open the cork plug with his teeth. He spat the plug out and swigged the contents of the vial, regaining a little color and vigor.
            He dropped the vial carelessly on the cracked wooden planks. "That done me good. Now just let that little monster show its face for a second..."
            Lent joined Git in heaving goblins over the side of the tower, while below, the warchanter made a break for the fort. Andosana hissed in annoyance at the loss of her target, but quickly turned to weave between the jutting spars and loose branches of the roof. "I'll cover you," she told Avilyn, nocking an arrow.
            Git dropped another goblin over the side of the tower, letting it fall limp into the briars below. At the same time, Ripnugget came tearing over the side of the tower by Jack, singing that horrid goblin song. He gave the barbarian a fearful gash with his deadly dogslicer that felled her, then continued over the far side of the tower. Silence, seeing an opportunity, lobbed a javelin at the goblin chief, but he was too far off and the balance of the weapon too strange. It clattered harmlessly against the side of the tower and fell to the ground. Andosana let fly with an arrow and managed to wing Ripnugget, who snarled but for some reason did not flee.
            Avilyn made it to the base of the tower where their rope hung and prepared to climb, her armor weighing her down. Barthur stood with his new handaxe raised and ready, eyes flicking about, looking for where Ripnugget would appear next. The maddening itching he felt was revealed in the squirming he did as he stood there, listening to Git and Lent grunt as they threw goblins off the tower. The briars below cracked and rustled as goblins landed in them.
            That same itching that plagued Barthur threw off Silence's next throw, her javelin clattering down to join the first. Andosana managed to nick the goblin again, but then Stickfoot went scuttling up and over the top with him. They ran at Barthur, who yelled as he chopped at the ugly green monster, perhaps trying to drown out the goblin's singing. His axe nicked Ripnugget's armor, and Ripnugget left a ringing scrape across Barthur's chain shirt before disappearing over the side again.
            Avilyn laboriously climbed the knotted rope, as Git tossed the last of the downed goblins that had been piled atop the trapdoor off the side of the tower.
            Lent immediately reached out to his Goddess, drawing once more upon her blessings. Even as he did, Git turned to the others. "Spread out. He rides by and carves our flanks - like cavalry. Defeat him like you defeat cavalry - give him no room to charge, and kill his mount."
            Despite the awkward size of the shoddy goblin javelins, Silence managed to strike Ripnugget with a well-placed throw, while Andosana's arrow seemed to bounce off the goblin's rubbery little skull. Barthur took Git's advice despite his orc blood, limping across the rooftop with his axe ready to stand guard by Jack.
            Avi gritted her teeth and kept climbing. Not the best of climbers at the best of times, she couldn't hope to fight off Ripnugget if he came for her now. She just kept climbing and hoped Sarenrae was watching over her in spite of her displeasure.
            Unfortunately, Ripnugget had the same idea. Tossing aside Silence's javelin, Ripnugget spurred Stickfoot around the side of the tower - but rather than attack Avilyn, he sawed at the rope she was climbing. It snapped easily under his sharp dogslicer, and she fell to the roof of the fort. It seemed Avilyn wasn't entirely out of Sarenrae's good graces; at least, she missed the sharp jags of wood that jutted up here and there. Still, Ripnugget's jeering cry hurt a bit, too.
            Avilyn fought to catch her breath and rolled over and up onto one knee. "Fine! I tried, you stupid gob! I tried and tried and you wouldn't listen! May Sarenrae grant you grace in the afterlife." As she yelled she reached back and pulled Jack's old bow off her pack, fit an arrow to the string, aimed and loosed at Stickfoot.
            The arrow stuck in the tower beside the lizard, just another bit of wooden debris sticking out of the fort.
            Meanwhile on the roof Jack could barely drag herself to safety. She guessed she was still alive, because she could still hear Ripnugget cackling and he was clearly invincible; unless he was so horrible he could bi-locate to Hell. She wondered if she ought to be scooping up her blood as a reminder of the good old days when she had some left.
            The trapdoor looked like a smart place to hang out. She crawled over there.
            Git snarled at the sound of Avilyn hitting the roof below. He reached into his robes and pulled out a scroll, which he quickly unrolled and began to read from.
            Lent, meanwhile, called upon his Goddess once more, hoping that Her favor would be enough to get Jack on her feet again, and keep the rest of them alive long enough to defeat this blasted goblin.
            "Finally," Silence said to herself through clenched teeth.
            Glancing behind her to make sure no goblins were sneaking up through the trap door, she picked up another of the crude javelins and waited for an opportunity to toss it at Ripnugget. The trapdoor still gaped empty behind her.
            Ripnugget kept singing the horrible goblin song as he closed on Avilyn, pausing only to remark, "You no fool Ripnugget!" Fortunately he couldn't penetrate her armor, but she was pressed to keep him at bay with only her bow.
            "You ARE a fool, Ripnugget! I told your shaman and I told you! We just want the long shanks!" Avilyn dropped the bow to the roof and drew her sword in the same motion, whipping the blade up and at Stickfoot.
            Even wounded, Stickfoot was quick to respond to Ripnugget's command, darting away from Avilyn's blows. "Stupid longshanks want take _Ripnugget's_ longshanks, crash Ripnugget's plans? Ha ha! Ripnugget kill you first!"
            "Thanks a million, Lent," Jack said breathlessly, struggling to pull herself together. She still wasn't in good enough shape to tackle that goblin chief again but she knew just how in for it Avilyn would be fighting him alone. Barthur just didn't have the range to help.
            Jack clumsily scooped up her dropped bow and ventured as near the edge of the parapet as she dared, looking for one more opportunity to wipe out that ridiculous lizard once and for all.
            Git finished intoning the spell from the scroll, which crumbled to dust in his hands. Where he pointed, a magnificent eagle seemed to form from the sunlight, swooping down to attack the combatants below. Meanwhile, Lent hurried over to the side of the tower, a prayer on his lips.
            "I hope I don't regret this," Barthur muttered as he stuck his handaxe into its belt loop, instead drawing a throwing axe as he joined the others at the edge of the tower.
            Jack pushed her way to the edge of the tower with the others, taking aim with her shortbow. Her muscles flexed as she drew the powerful bow, and despite her fatigue, despite having to shoot carefully to avoid hitting Avilyn, she fired the decisive shot. Her arrow shot into Stickfoot's neck, and the pony-sized gecko fell to the rooftop, Avilyn narrowly avoiding being crushed thanks to her fast reflexes.
            Ripnugget bounced to his feet, a look of dismay on his ugly green face. Matters were not improved for him when the eagle swooped down to slash at him with its talons, nearly making him lose his ridiculous dented crown. People shot arrows and threw knives and javelins and axes at him from all sides, and he quickly rethought his plan of attack.
            "You see Ripnugget again!" he promised, scampering away through the forest of broken wood. Those on the towers could see that he didn't even bother with climbing down from the roof - he just jumped off the side, sprawling in the dirt below.
            Jack drew another arrow. She had half a mind to chase after him, guessing that he'd used up his only advantages. But she was in bad shape; an unlucky moment with a dogslicer was probably enough to do for her.
            She tried to take aim again -- knowing it was probably hopeless, but assuming she was the only one with a chance of hitting him.
            Git grunted as the goblin warleader leapt from the building and began to scramble away. He moved to the other side of the tower, to stay as close as he could, and let fly with another crossbow bolt, sans crossbow.
            Lent watched as the others did their level best to prevent Ripnugget's escape. He whispered a word of prayer, asking Desna to bless their efforts, and touched Jack's leg, letting the Guidance of his Goddess bolster the young woman's aim.
            The paladin glanced up at her companions, none of whom were close enough to stop Ripnugget, looked back at the edge of the roof, took a breath and then promptly launched herself after the goblin chieftain before she could overthink it.
            The goblin looked up in time to see the paladin plummeting straight at him. His face registered shock and sudden fear just before Avilyn landed on him with a huge crash. His tiny crown went rolling away.
            Avilyn rose from the crouch she'd landed in to stand over the unconscious goblin chieftain, victorious.
            Avilyn panted, breathing hard from the short run, the jump and the adrenalin rush of the drop. She held her sword at the ready as she scanned for more goblins. There was a wild grin on her face that she couldn't quite banish- it wasn't right to gloat over a fallen enemy, but that had gone even better than she'd hoped. And, to tell the truth, it had been kind of fun.
            "Thank you, my lady." Such a result could only have been a sign of Sarenrae's blessing.
            From the tower, Silence called out, "Hey guys... am I climbing down, or are you going to climb up?"
            Andosana rushed as quickly as she was able to the side of the roof-tangle. "Are you all right? You're one crazy human!"
            Avi beamed up at the ranger, the exultant joy in her expression lighting up her face. "Anything is possible in Sarenrae's grace."
            Git twirled the crossbow bolt in his hand briefly as a silent celebration. He looked across to Silence on the opposite tower. "I think we will all climb down, Silence. There are no enemies up here." His tone was happy, and (he hoped) gave the impression that Git did not think any more enemies remained at all. His eyes, however, scanned the area, looking for any sign of further resistance.
            Lent, nodded, though Silence probably couldn't see him over the tower "wall," such as it was. "If we get everyone in one spot, I can work one more healing," he said to Jack, "but perhaps we should take the stairs?"
            Silence looked down at the roof of the fortress. "Are we going down to the courtyard?" she asked. "If so, I could take the stairs in here."
            "I think we'll need to clean up the mess out front first," Git rumbled back, "but it'd probably be helpful to open the door from the inside. I think Jack and Lent are using the stairs here. They'll meet you."
            "Is that right," Jack mumbled, letting her bowstring slacken and pausing to make sure she had all her stuff. "Good thing we know there aren't any more of those creeps hiding downstairs. I'm not in great shape for more fighting and this lot out here doesn't seem like it quite adds up to a tribe."
            She kept her bow ready at hand and pulled up on the stupid trapdoor, feeling stiff, sweaty and very likely to pull her injuries back apart if she overexerted another muscle. "You too, Barthur. We're gonna need a hand, I think."
            The adventurers made their way down the rickety stairs, Silence stepping over the downed brine-smelling goblin in her tower, the others through the hacked ruin of the door they had blocked shut. They came through what for goblins was a spacious corridor (tall enough for even Git to stand in) with many doors.
            The corridor leading to the front doors opened onto a large hall. The floor of the room was hard-packed soil, as if the builders either ran out of lumber after building the walls and roof, or as if they simply never thought about building a floor. A number of poorly preserved horse and dog heads were mounted along the eastern wall, while along the southern wall hung a pair of large batlike wings, tacked to the wall with daggers.
            The barred front doors were easily unbarred and opened. There was no sign of more goblins.

39

            Andosana tossed Avilyn her bow, then climbed down, heading straight for the fallen goblins with her sword out.
            Avilyn caught the bow and looked back down at Ripnugget. "We could have handled this with talk, you idiot." She examined the chieftan's gear, wanting to separate him from any weapons just in case he suddenly woke up.
            Git grunted once at the sight of Andosana and her obvious intentions, but he said nothing to object. He considered it good tactics. Instead, he looked over the scene. Something was troubling him, but he couldn't quite put his finger on what it was. "Tie up the warleader," he suggested absently, still searching the area, hoping to find a clue that would help him figure out what was wrong.
            Lent looked at the goblins with antipathy clear on his face. "See if they're dead," he suggested, without *quite* implying that a positive discovery would be preferred.
            With the grisly sound of Andosana knifing goblins in the background, Avilyn searched the Warchief. His breastplate was of superior craftsmanship beneath the dirt, and his razor-sharp dogslicer made with equal care. His dented crown lay in the dust a few feet away. She also found a keyring with a number of keys dangling from it.
            Much as she might not want to touch the filthy creature, Avilyn knelt next to Ripnugget and stripped him of breastplate and dogslicer, dropping them in the dirt next to the chieftan's crown. She kept the ring of keys, though.
            Barthur helped cut the few throats still working. With his axe handle he jabbed at the dead for evidence of anything hidden on them that might be useful to the party, but he detested goblin craftsmanship and didn't bother trying to assess the value of their filthy gear.
            "Dogslicers, bah," he scowled, kicking one across the yard. "Nasty goblin junk. Not worth th' ore they're smelted from. Look't this 'un, there - more hematite than iron, see? Ptooey."
            Avilyn didn't know much about the making or armor or swords, but she knew quality when she saw it. She tapped Ripnugget's breastplate with the tip of her sword. "This is good metal. Too small for me, but I'd wear it." She gestured at the cheiftan's dogslicer. "And whoever made that knew what he was doing. It's sharper than my sword, and the Church paid good money for that."
            Silence opened the door to the fortress and invited everyone inside.
            "Our hosts seem to be elsewhere," she said, then grimaced and twitched. "This goblin rash is eating me alive. Let's finish up what we are here to do so we can get back to town before the other six hundred goblins come home."
            "Aye, lass," Barthur grunted agreement. "Not sure we oughter be leavin' 'em a home t' come back tae, though."
            He glared at the ugly patchwork structure. Then hefting his hand axes he tromped after the elvish ranger, wanting to finish off the wounded before Gogmurt or somebody similar showed up with magic.
            Shouldering her bow, Jack wearily knelt down beside Ripnugget and began to bind him with a few short lengths of rope she'd retrieved from the tower door they'd tried to bind shut.
            "Nice flying piledriver, Avi," she said. "Way better than mine coming off those steps. Hey, did any of you happen to spot any escapees? If so, it's a good bet old what's-her-face is getting an earful about us right now. I'm a lot less nervous about goblins than I am about her and her evil little dolly buddies."
            "I did not see any," Silence said. "But we should be careful, in any case."
            Andosana paused, looking back at the open doors. "The warchanter, at least, escaped. I fear Jack's concerns are well-founded. There is little chance we will surprise them today."
            "So what's the plan, gang?" Jack asked, getting back up while Avilyn searched him. "I'm still thinking the smartest way downstairs is going to be on the northwest side of the compound, since we never seem to find anything important that isn't as far from where we are as is humanly possible. Or goblinly possible, tee hee. But there isn't a damn thing this little shit is gonna say that we can trust, is there? He wasn't even scared of -me,- which is just... insulting.
            "Unless it's time for a little power nap," she said, looking them over critically, especially at Silence and her infected bite. "I'd be down with that, man. I'm on my last legs over here."
            Lent looked over at Jack and nodded. "I can provide a bit more healing, Desna willing, but some rest would probably serve us all. I just don't know if this is the best place for it."
            Avilyn nodded. "Sarenrae willing, I may be able to help with the healing. But I will need rest afterward." She took out Ripnugget's keys and offered them to Lent. "We may be able to secure ourselves here, though if we did we might find an army of goblins on our doorstep when we're ready to move."
            Lent accepted the keys with a thoughtful look. Something had changed within him, he could feel it. "I believe Desna -and Sarenrae- have and will continue to bless us. If we can find a safe place, and trust to Luck, we might do well enough."
            Git finally turned away from scanning the area. Andosana's warning that the warchanter had escaped hadn't made him feel any better, but at least now he knew what had been bothering him. "I can check him for magic," he offered, "if you wish." The last bit seemed to added as a nod towards being polite, as Git almost immediately cast the spell that allowed him to detect magical auras, and then set to examining the items gathered from the warchief and the other fallen goblins.
            Git choked. Then snorted. Finally, he let out a soft, controlled chuckle. "The dogslicer," he said, "it's enchanted." The half-orc shook his head and sighed. "Waste. But whatever we decide to we should probably not do it out here. Inside, with the gate closed."
            The dirty dwarf snorted and shook his head. "Goblin stuff," he loudly harrumphed. "Rather be dead, meself. Let's go in, then. Rescue some 'o them inevitable prisoners. Maybe yer ol' daddy's down there waitin' for yeh, eh, Git?"
            Silence frowned slightly at Barthur, but said nothing. Instead, she held the gates open for the others, and then secured them once everyone was inside.
            "What, like father, like son, Barthur?" said Jack with a chuckle. "In that case I guess it must have been your mom who gave you baths as a baby..."
            Silence looked around the hall. The goblin dogs were still barking, but she didn't want to go anywhere near them, not even to kill them.
            "Pick a door, I guess," She said. "Lent, you're the lucky one. Which door do you feel optimistic about?"
            When Silence barred the doors, Andosana protested, "We may need a quick way out of here. Why bar us in with these monsters? I'm not fool enough to think we've met all the resistance this hovel has to offer, and we're in bad shape. Bruthazmus is in here somewhere, too." Her lip curled as she pronounced the name.
            Jack looked up from examining one of her partly-mended cuts. She wondered if Avi had even the slightest reservations about looting a weapon coated in her comrade's blood.
            "This Bruzamus clown," she said, as her wariness of Andosana's foaming-dog-fever obsession returned, "he have any of his own goons we have to worry about?"
            Andosana stared at her. "You mean apart from an entire goblin tribe? There's always the "bigfolk" Gogmurt talked about. And, supposedly, Nualia. I think it's safe to say _Bruthazmus_ isn't alone."
            "Whuzzat? Ye speakin' o' Ripnugget's boys, or do ye think there be a whole 'nother tribe in here," Barthur asked, peering about the hall. He looked more closely at the big bat wings on the wall, wondering what their significance was. He also examined the daggers that pinned them up. Barthur didn't know what had possessed those oversized wings, but the daggers he had a keen eye for. Most of them were ordinary daggers, some with dried blood still crusting them, but one had a pearl handle. He cackled greedily to himself and, standing on his tiptoes, tried to tug the dagger free.
            The dagger came out of the wood easily enough. Up close, it was rather beautiful. Out of place in a goblin's den, that was for sure. The dwarf turned it over, examining it for flaws. Then grunting in satisfaction, he tucked it into his belt and rejoined the others.
            "I was referring to the Thistletop goblins, yes. Besides the handful of Birdcrunchers we met in the warren, they're the only tribe I've seen so far." Andosana's eyes roamed the many doors; she was clearly on edge. "Do we stand here talking or do something?"
            The paladin frowned when Andosana mentioned Nualia, but Avilyn didn't say anything about her supposedly wayward friend. "The journal implied that Bruthazmus was one of the champions of this tribe, along with Ripnugget. If he's here, why didn't he come at us alongside Ripnugget?"
            "Do I look like an oracle? Bruthazmus is a "hero" to all the goblin tribes around here," Andosana said with distaste. "Maybe it's out visiting them, or gone on a raid. How should I know? What I do know is that if we stand here yakking much longer, we won't be prepared for whoever the warchanter went to warn."
            "I think we know who it went to warn," Jack mumbled. "And we won't be prepared in any case, because we never are. But I vote we go through those double doors, there: that's probably the main hall. Good a place to start as any. Unless you want to wake up sleepykins here."
            She looked down at Ripnugget, wondering who was going to have to carry him. She bet it was a certain half-elf barbarian.
            Avilyn shrugged. "As long as no one needs a break. Maybe he'll be more receptive to conversation without a mount, armor and dogslicer."
            Silence followed Jack's gaze, then nodded grimly and drew her short sword.
            When Silence first drew her sword, Avilyn wasn't quite sure what the woman intended. As soon as it became clear Silence was going to kill him, though, she moved to put herself between Silence and Ripnugget. "No. We're not killing him in his sleep." Some of the old Avilyn was back, in the calm, confident manner of her speech and the relaxed, determined set of her shoulders.
            "I would like to talk to him, but barring that we can leave him here. Restrained, if you like, though I think that would just be a waste of rope- the first goblins through here would just cut him free."
            "You've shown that talking to him is a waste of time," she said, "even if we hadn't already gone through this with Gogmurt. Talking to him is pointless: whether it's true or not, we can't trust anything he says. Leaving him here is stupid. Dragging him around is even more stupid. What's left, other than killing him?"
            Avilyn shook her head. "I'm not negotiating with you. We are not going to kill him when he is offering us no violence." Her tone wasn't angry, wasn't threatening, but she was resolute. The beautiful young paladin clearly was not going to stand aside and let Silence kill Ripnugget in his sleep.
            Silence shrugged, then grimaced and forced herself not to scratch at the rash which inflamed at the motion. "Your mistake," she said, and sheathed her sword.
            Turning to Lent, she asked, "So what are we doing? Heading forward into the ambush, or waiting to be trapped here?"
            Avilyn nodded at Silence. "Thank you." She looked at Jack and glanced at Silence. "Silence is right in that we can't take anything Ripnugget says at face value. But that doesn't mean we can't benefit from talking to him. Should I wake him or do we just let him sleep?"
            Lent looked around, then shrugged. "Do we know the goblin escaped inside? Silence had to open the doors from in here, right? Perhaps there isn't an ambush waiting for us just yet. We should get moving. But perhaps someone should go back upstairs and take care of the dogs first?"
            Git grunted. "I can take care of Ripnugget," he said, slowly. "I'll use magic. He shouldn't wake for at least a day. If we leave him outside, he might survive long enough to wake up. If we lock him in a room, he's less likely to be found and healed, and if we can lock the room, he should keep out of trouble."
            Avilyn nodded. "That's a good suggestion. Thank you, Git." She looked at the others as they considered the doors, then at Barthur. "We need to go down. Can you tell if any of these passageways lead downward more than the others?"
            "I'll let you guys do that," Jack said, glad to be rid of the goblin and more throat-slitting. "Lent might be right about no other entrance, but those goblins can climb walls. C'mon, Andosana. Let's go check out those dogs up in the courtyard, see if we can get around 'em without killin' em. We can look for the warchanter, too, if it's trying to sneak in that way, or through a tower. Rest of you guys can send Silence or somebody back here to meet up with us in ten minutes to show us where you are."
            "If you say so," Andosana grumbled. "I don't know why we shouldn't just kill them. Is this a normal way for Shoanti to deal with things? I always thought you were more... well, you know..." Waving her arm expressively, she hefted her bow and set off after Jack.
            "What about that single door there?" Git pointed to the door in the wall closest to the tower Silence had explored. "Let's get that open, and I can take care of putting Ripnugget to sleep while Jack and Andosana and whoever else - we should stay together as much as we can - go up and kill those dogs."
            "Aw, they kin handle a couple o' mangy ol' mutts, surely?" Barthur grunted. He took a few experimental sniffs of air. "Avilyn needs tae defend ye while I help along His Highness here. Nay, I cannae sense which o' them doors leads downward, lass. Ground's pretty even here... fer goblin-craft, leastways. Still I reckon one of 'em must. One way's good as th' other."
            Silence walked along behind Barthur, keeping her eyes and ears open. Barthur carried the battered Warchief after Git, only to find that the door in question was nailed shut.

40

            Jack led the way back down the passage and into the tower they had tried to bar. Sparing a glance at the north exit, which seemed okay, she headed for the steps up to the roof, letting Andosana drag the door shut behind them.
            "Those dogs are gonna be a turkey shoot," Jack said, once the door was shut. "They're as helpless as Ripnugget is. Sort of unfair. But I don't want one of those rashes if I can help it. If we wound one or two, they might get frustrated enough to turn on each other. I wasn't sure what Avilyn would think if I announced we were just gonna wipe 'em out, so.
            "But I'm Shoanti enough," she went on, frowning as she mounted the steps. "Ja'que of the Shadde-Quah, Axe Clan of the Stoval, that's me. Or anyway it was the me I tried to be. My father fell fighting the hill giants, see? So goblins and their stupid, stupid rat-creatures - well, I know you're into that, but for a Shoanti, it's kind of..."
            "I see what you mean," Andosana said with an unexpected chuckle. "Goblins are pests, but they're small pests. At least giants have never bothered Sandpoint."
            Once they were at the top, Jack pushed at the trapdoor, trying to remember if Git had left any goblins on top of it.
            He hadn't, as they had gone down through the tower, and the trapdoor opened easily enough. It was a relief to get off the rickety staircase, though the creaking tower itself wasn't that much better. A quick glance confirmed that the bridge was still half-dangling where they had left it, no goblins in sight.
            "We're going to have to climb down to the roof again anyway," Andosana said, peering from the other end of the tower down at the courtyard. "Those nasty mongrels keep running close to the building where we can't shoot them."
            "How do you know they're mongrels?" Jack said, throwing one long leg over the north side. Normally she didn't like heights, but there seemed to be plenty of jagged crap to hang onto here. "Ripnugget is a famous local rat-creature breeding enthusiast. He's a husbandman. Writes a quarterly pamphlet. Make sure nobody shoots me."
            "Purebred goblin dogs. Maybe he takes them to the shows in Magnimar." Andosana stood watch as Jack climbed down, then stowed her bow and climbed over the side while Jack did the same for her. There was a close call when some of the wood holding Andosana up gave way with a snap, but the elf clung to the creaking tower, making her way down more slowly than Jack had. Stickfoot lay in a heap nearby, Jack's arrow still stuck in the lizard's hide.
            They clambered over the wreckage that served as a roof to the fort to look down into the courtyard. The goblin dogs were still yapping away, some snuffling at doors leading into the keep and fighting with each other while one tried to dig its way under a door on the far side of the courtyard. Every now and then the door would shake with a loud crack, as though something had smashed into it from inside, making the dog dance away, but it quickly began yapping and digging again. The air smelled faintly of sewage.
            "Let's clean them out," Andosana said grimly, unslinging her bow.
            "We should get them over here if we can," Jack observed as she drew an arrow. "I know! I'll try a Ripnugget impression."
            Raising her voice and dropping it half an octave, she started hooting and blarting at the dogs like a brain-damaged monkey. "Urk! Urga-oo-oo! Me King Rippie, grunt grunt! Come to King Rippie... sweet babies! Dinner time! Yum yum! Ooga-ook-ook?"
            Andosana stared at Jack, clearly wondering if the Shoanti had lost her mind - but the goblin dogs left off what they were doing and scrambled over to yarf at the intruders on the roof.
            That lasted until the two women began shooting at them. Two yelped in pained surprise as arrows sprouted in their backs, and all of them took off across the yard, whining and barking their heads off.

41

            Avilyn chuckled. "Of course it's nailed shut. These goblins don't do anything right, why would they just like a door?" She paused and thought about it for a second, her smile fading. "Which side is it nailed from- this side or that side? Were they trying keep people out or keep something in?"
            Git sniffed, then examined the nails. "Brine?" He shook his head. "Either they're preserving something in there for eating later, or it's the lair of a pickle monster." "Barthur, can we pull the nails, or force the door?"
            "Need t' be pulled, looks like," Barthur said, squinting at it. He let Ripnugget flop like a heavy sack of potatoes onto the dirt floor. "Mustae been tryin' t' keep our Melody from bustin' in."
            He drew out one of his hand axes and a hammer from his pack. "Stand to, lad," he grunted at Git. "We dwarves have a special way with pickle monsters. Aye, the stories I could tell..."
            The redhead got out of Barthur's way. "I'll go see if any of the other doors are nailed shut while you do that."
            Lent stepped back as well, moving to the double doors that led into the trophy hall area and pulling his mace from his belt. "At least we're being quiet about it, right?" His eyes twinkled as he stood guard in case any goblins appeared.
            Git had also moved out of Barthur's way, but towards the tower. He stood ready, wand in one hand, crossbow bolt in the other. If an enemy came from either the tower or the door Barthur worked on, he would be ready.
            Silence drew her sword and took a position a few steps back from Barthur, in case something came through the door after he'd opened it.

42

            None of the other doors along the trophy hall or corridor leading to the tower were nailed shut, though Avilyn heard goblin dog yapping behind one of them, and little claws scrabbling at the hard-packed dirt. She had just returned to the trophy hall when, over the din of the goblin dogs and Barthur trying to tap out nails, the squeal of an unoiled hinge alerted her to trouble. She turned around in time to see an enormous brute of a hairy creature emerge from one of the doors she had passed. A full head taller than her, its red eyes gleamed with malice. When it saw Avilyn and Lent, it smiled. In that smile was the promise of all manner of unsavory defilement. There was a necklace of pointed ears on its chest and a crusty-headed flail in its hand, and torchlight flickered from behind it.
            "Lent, Git, Barthur, Silence. We have a visitor." Avilyn drew her blade and saluted the brutish creature, taking the time to use the sight granted her by Sarenrae to confirm what she already suspected- that the creature was irretrievably, irredeemably evil.
            In that, she was surprised, for despite its evil leer, Avilyn's blessed sight detected no aura of evil about it.
            "That be nothin' t' offer mercy to, lass," Barthur growled as he came out into the hall and spotted the monster. "T'is a bugbear, if ever I saw'un."
            Lent looked even smaller in comparison to the giant bugbear, and he happily backpedaled away from the monster and behind Barthur. Even while he moved, Lent called upon his Goddess, and as he passed Barthur Lent touched the dwarf's shoulder, shifting the dwarf's luck just slightly for the better.
            Git heard Avilyn's call and nodded, despite the young woman not being able to see him. Git took a moment to meet Silence's eyes, then glanced at the form of Ripnugget on the floor. Without a word, he stepped out the door, but instead of closing with the enemy, Git drifted to his right, towards the doors that led outside. "Avilyn, Barthur," his voice rumbled in warning, "do not get too close. Let him come to you - to us." Git let the crossbow bolt in his hand spin between his fingers, but he did not launch it at the bugbear yet. He wanted to allow Avilyn her attempt at making peace. He didn't believe she would succeed, but he wasn't prepared to draw her ire by launching a surprise attack against her will. Yet.
            Instead he threw open the doors leading outside, filling the room with dull light. The bugbear squinted a bit, but didn't appear too worried. "You're right," it grated, scratching its wattles with splintered black nails. "I'm a bugbear, not some goblin. You don't stand a chance. Just think of the look on your family's faces when they hear what's happened to you." It brightened as it stepped forward. "But say! They'll never know what happened to you, so I guess they'll just have to wonder!"
            Its flail smashed through Avilyn's defense with brute force, making her teeth rattle - and behind it, a second bugbear strode into view, this one wielding a hand-and-a-half sword. It edged along the wall, testing Avilyn's defenses without penetrating them. It seemed content to let its companion do the talking.
            A wise dwarf doesn't ruin his tools. Dropping his hammer, Barthur drew his good hand axe, the one to replace his old one, and cocked his smaller one back to throw.
            The axe whirled through the air, chopping into the bugbear attacking Avilyn with a meaty _thock._ The bugbear roared, displaying a mouthful of fangs. Blood ran down its metal-studded leather armor to drip in the dirt. "Your clan will be ashamed to speak your name when I'm through with you, dwarf!"
            Silence calmly drew and loaded her crossbow behind the others, eyeing the bugbears.
            Avilyn's expression was serene in the face of the monster's taunting. "My Lady the flower of dawn is the only family I need. And when I fall, she will wrap me in her arms and welcome me home. I pity you, creature." Her sword flicked out at the talkative bugbear, testing the monster's defenses.
            The bugbear swatted away Avilyn's sword, the chain of the flail skirling across her steel. "No family, huh? Aww, that's sad. I guess no one will miss you when I'm wearing your skin, then."
            Lent smiled in satisfaction as Barthur's throw struck true, but he wasted no time patting anyone on he back - there was much more to be done. He whispered another prayer and touched Barthur, giving the dwarf a brief flash of guidance from Lent's Goddess. Then Lent moved to stand beside Git, trying to position himself to be the most helpful should there be a need. "Jack," he called out the open doors, "Avilyn's going to take your boyfriend to the dance without you!"

43

            Outside, Jack and Andosana heard the bugbear's roared threat. Andosana froze, one hand reaching back for an arrow.
            "What the crap. Was that Git?" said Jack. She left off shooting for a second to listen. Heard a faint squeaky sound. "OK, that sounded more like Lent. Great. I guess we should go back. Hurray."
            She sighed and trotted back towards the south end of the roof, slinging her bow over her shoulder, ready to climb down.
            "Bruthazmus!" Andosana leapt between the spars of the roof, hurrying after Jack as quickly as she could, but she was nowhere near as fast as the Shoanti. Jack had already stowed her bow and was ready to climb down as Andosana reached the edge of the roof.

44

            Avilyn whipped her sword back into position and warily eyed the bugbear, letting her companions worry about the other one.
            "Sarenrae can forgive even you, creature. Aren't you tired of being so frightful, having to be so intimidating all the time? To have to scare your allies enough that they will think twice before putting the knife in you while you sleep. Doesn't it make you tired? To have to watch, not trusting anyone, waiting for the blade in the back. Wouldn't you rather set down that burden? Her light is warm, and she welcomes all who come to Her. Put down your flail and rest."
            The bugbear smiled at her with jagged teeth. "No one stabs Bruthazmus in the back. I do all the stabbing that needs doing. But I'll show you once we're alone. I'd love to see if you're as soft on the inside as on the outside, girly." It smacked its lips obscenely.
            Git, on the other hand, had a slightly different reaction to the bellowing and taunts. "You talk too much," he suggested, as he let the crossbow bolt in his hand streak across the room towards the bleeding bugbear.
            The bolt caught the bugbear in the shoulder, making it grimace and misstep. The misstep forced it on the defensive as Avilyn kept it at bay. The silent one slowly circled Avilyn with its back to the wall, and the moment she blinked away the hair in her eyes, it rammed its sword through her armor. Oddly, it didn't even gloat; instead it just stepped back to avoid her retaliation, watching her and her companions warily.
            Avilyn realized that the second, silent bugbear attacked with its weapon awkwardly low for its size. She looked harder at it, and realized that where it had stood, there was a human instead - a ruggedly handsome warrior in banded mail, grimly sizing her up from behind a steel shield.
            Avilyn gasped and staggered, only just managing to keep from falling. She pulled her shield in tight and crouched down behind its questionable protection. "Lady," she choked out as she stared at the... man, she realized. It wasn't a bugbear, it was a man.
            "Who...?"
            "Okay, maybe I don't do _all_ the stabbing," Bruthazmus gloated for the other bugbear.
            Barthur grumbled a bit about everyone cutting in on his comeback time, especially since his was a lot better than theirs. He grappled on his small steel shield and lifted his good axe, moving in to take a shot at the bugbear's kneecaps before it squashed Avilyn's pity to a pulp.
            A flurry of blows from the talkative bugbear (and Barthur's own madly itching skin) kept him from actually reaching its kneecaps, and the dwarf's shield rang repeatedly, making an awful racket. His sharp eyes, however, caught a glimpse of a goblin poking its head out of the doorway the bugbears had emerged from. It didn't look like it wanted to get any closer, but its face was scrunched up in concentration as it watched them.
            A sharp twang sounded, and a crossbow bolt flew over Avilyn's shoulder to be deflected by the second bugbear's shield. Behind them all, Silence quickly set another bolt in her crossbow and began cranking it back.
            Lent whispered a quick prayer and touched Git, shifting luck to the half-orc's side for a moment, then Lent stuck his head out the open doors. "Jack! Now would be a good time!"

45

            "It's always a good time for Jack," she yelled from the edge of the roof. "Whaddaya want, anyhow? All this hollering. Making me use my awesome climbing skills. I wouldn't mind knowing what the frug is going on!" Unsteadily she clambered down the wall, waiting for all her arrows to spill out, as they tended to do.
            "What's going on is that Bruthazmus and his friend seem to be far too interested in Avilyn, and I think she could use another tall, pretty girl to double with her," Lent called. The urgency in his voice belied the joke, however.
            Drawing her longsword on the run, Jack charged into the room with amazing speed. Andosana was left behind, still climbing down the outer wall. Git said nothing, but stepped to one side to let Jack and Andosana get by him. He did let fly with another crossbow bolt, however, once more aiming for the Bugbear he'd hit before.
            Bruthazmus dodged and the bolt came nowhere near hitting, cracking into the wall instead. The goblin watching from the doorway ducked, though the bolt hit far above it. Occupied with that, the bugbear failed to penetrate Avilyn's defenses with his heavy flail - but again his companion cut at her hard, wearing her down with expert blows.
            Despite his mad itching, Barthur kept Bruthazmus busy with his axe, chopping steadily as if the bugbear was firewood. Bruthazmus roared again as his armor buckled under the dwarf's onslaught. Infuriated, he turned against Barthur, seemingly forgetting Avilyn. "I'll use your beard to wipe my ass, dwarf! I'll send it back to your clan in your skull!"
            On seeing the skulking figure stab Avilyn, Silence set down her crossbow and drew her short sword.
            She moved toward the skulking figure, taking up a position where she could attack him while protecting Avilyn from a repeat attack.
            With opponents on three sides, the other bugbear had its hands full trying to keep them all at bay, giving Silence an opportunity. She took it, stabbing the bugbear in the leg. It made a strangled sound, wheeling to slash at her, but she wasn't there anymore, already having backed away to await her next chance.
            Lent kept one eye on the fight and one eye looking out the double doors. Even as he waited, he called to Andosana. "Faster, lass!" Quietly, he muttered "Just get a _little closer,_ come on..."
            Jack crashed into the second bugbear with a yell, thrusting him back behind Bruthazmus even as Andosana came running through the open doors. "Bruthazmus!" she yelled, pulling her bow off her shoulder and reaching for an arrow. "You've lived far too long, monster!"
            As soon as Andosana was close enough, Lent called once more to his Goddess, letting her blessing fill him, and spill forth from him. He focused his mind and the channeling of Her power, making sure to exclude both the bugbears and the injured goblin from the wave of healing that spilled forth.
            Newly invigorated, Git sent another bolt flying from his hand at Bruthazmus, but the bugbear blocked the shot with his flail. "Shalelu," Bruthazmus said, lingering over the name as though he were tasting it. "So you're the one who led this rat pack to their deaths. I guess you missed me. Did you find what I left for you at that farm? It was a special gift, just for you." Distracted by the elf, he didn't press his attack against Barthur.
            "You sick freak!" Andosana ground out, practically choking with rage. "This time you're dead!"
            The other bugbear found its footing again and came back at Jack, delivering several slashes that she hardly felt in her rage. Barthur edged around Bruthazmus while he was busy talking to Andosana. He used the opportunity to flank the monster with Jack, chopping into him once again. The bugbear snarled at Barthur with a facefull of fangs, fending off Silence as she came up on his side.
            Avilyn grunted at the fresh wound but kept herself from staggering. She didn't have an answer for Bruthazmus this time, though. Her only words were to call on Sarenrae for aid again. "Lady, please," she hissed out as she slashed at Bruthazmus.
            Though the now badly wounded bugbear fended off her attack, her goddess responded with a warm flow of healing. The nearly paralyzing pain of her wounds, already significantly lessened by Desna, faded further at her prayer.
            Jack suddenly looked startled - almost enough to stop fighting, and eyed the second bugbear suspiciously as it assumed a more defensive posture. But Bruzazamo was still acting like a tough guy, shouting some big crap even though he seemed to be the worst-hurt person in the room. That got on her nerves; so she brought her sword against his exposed back, figuring Barthur would probably be paralysed by evil halitosis if she didn't help.
            Silence nodded once at Jack, having noticed the same thing about the second "bugbear".
            Bruthazmus wheeled at the last second, deflecting Jack's blade with a strength even greater than her own rage-spawned power. His hateful eyes stared at her as though memorizing her face, but at least he didn't spew any more threats.
            Lent wasn't fond of goblins or their ilk, but even he thought Andosana might just do some manner of injury to herself if she didn't manage to be the one to kill Bruthazmus. The little Gnome said a prayer to Desna, asking Her to help provide some measure of peace to Andosana's soul. Preferably by helping the elf to kill Bruthazmus. Then he placed his hand on Andosana's well-formed leg. That was the best part about blessing others - the blessings one received in return.
            Andosana ran past Lent, barely noticing Lent's touch as she found a clear line of sight to her target. "For the Budgemans," she breathed as she took aim.
            Blessed by Desna, the arrow punched through Bruthazmus' armor, making him roar again - but it wasn't enough to fell the horrible brute.
            Git fingered the bolts remaining in the case at his side and frowned. Making a quick tactical decision, he left them in the case, and instead sent a ray of cold shooting across the room towards the melee.
            Frost lined Bruthazmus' armor, and while the attack didn't appear to hurt, Bruthazmus backed away, swinging wildly to keep everyone at bay. "See you soon, Shalelu," he growled, dodging a swing from Jack as he retreated the way he had come. The goblin that had been in the doorway squeaked as it was shoved aside, following Bruthazmus.
            The last bugbear wavered, then reformed into the shape of a ruggedly handsome man in banded mail. "Sorry folks, that's my cue," he said, slipping past Jack as he, too, followed Bruthazmus deeper into the fort.
            Silence took a step toward the retreating bugbear and his cohort, then decided better of it, and went to retrieve her crossbow.
            "What were the point o' that, then?" Barthur grunted. He hooked his shield over his shoulder and unhitched his second throwing axe, but he was slow as any dwarf and lingered to let the faster folk lead the charge, if one was called for.
            Avilyn ran after the bugbears for all of four or five strides before realizing nobody else was coming and thinking it through to the obvious conclusion. "To bait us into running after them," she said.
            The paladin looked back at her companions. "We aren't doing that, I take it?"
            "Not unless you'd like to be outsmarted by goblin-kin," Lent said with a grim smile. He shook his head and looked about the room.
            "Even if we do not chase them," Git rumbled, "they are a step ahead. That was a scouting raid. They now know who and what they face, and can prepare for it. We know only that the bugbear is here, he has a human warrior companion, and we know the warchanter is with them." Git shrugged. "I suggest a quick search for anything that might aid us - or that we can deny them - and then a retreat across the bridge for the night." Git paused, then shrugged again. "If we could leave the place aflame when we go, that could help."
            "Yeah, Barthur, check on Ripnugget too, wouldja?" Jack whispered. She had gone to the corner of the doorway the assholes had taken. Even tired and hurt, she was still as fast as anybody in the group, and her hides didn't make much noise. "Somebody should prolly light a torch anyway. For Avilyn."
            After waggling her sword blade far out in front of it to test for archers, she edged forward enough to peek around the corner with one eye.
            "Aye then," Barthur grunted. He hooked his axe under one arm and trotted back to the western end of the hall, scooping up his hammer as he went. Like Jack, he squinted in the dim light coming from outside, checking first on Ripnugget, then on the nailed door.
            Andosana, like some of the others, had to check herself from rushing after Bruthazmus. Looking at the others, she clenched her fists and eyes shut, then reluctantly agreed with Git. "You don't know what's down there with that monster. You'd all better get patched up before we cross swords with him again. But we will," she added fiercely, glaring at the door Bruthazmus had vanished through.
            The doorway the bugbear and warrior had gone through opened onto tidily carved stone steps leading down and around a corner. Torchlight fading suggested its holder had continued away.
            Ripnugget lay where he'd been dumped, making snoring noises. The stink of brine still emanated from the nailed-shut door beside him.
            Barthur prodded the goblin's foot with his boot to make sure. He came back and tapped the wall with his axe, looking at it with an expert eye.
            "Don't know that it'd burn too good," he grunted. "If'n it did, these manky fellers wouldae burned it down by accident already, like as not. Ye can try, o' course, but I wouldnae expect great success. Goblin magic be crude an' nasty, but it do work - sometimes. Shall I take out th' rest o' them nails?"
            Silence counted her crossbow bolts and pondered the smelly door. "I am curious what's in there," she said.
            Avilyn shook her head. "Whatever it is, we can investigate it when we come back. The goblins can't want to get at it too much if they nailed the door shut. It will more than likely still be in there tomorrow."
            "Is anybody curious about what the frag is going on down there where all the sonsabitches are?" Jack whispered. She waved her sword at the staircase. "I wanna go down far enough to listen, maybe. Anyone else? Silence? Lent? Pickle Fiend? Anybody?"
            "If we're going back to town it doesn't matter, does it? Whatever you hear will just have moved by the time we come back." Avilyn said. The paladin nodded and gestured at the nailed door. "Do you think there's anything useful behind the smelly, sealed door?"
            "Only two reasons a goblin nails a door shut," Lent said with a shrug, "either to keep something inside from getting out, or to keep other goblins from getting to whatever he's got hidden inside." Lent wrinkled his nose at the brine smell. "Either there's pickles in there that Ripnugget didn't want getting stolen, or it's a brine fiend. Either way, I don't know how useful it'd be to open it now."
            Git grunted from where he stood guard by the door. "I was only hoping to stash the goblin inside. Being able to nail it shut again would keep him from mischief for a while. Then again, if we retreat across the bridge, we can always toss him down that hole."
            The paladin shook her head. "We should take him back with us. He can stand trial for the raids. I know the townspeople would feel better seeing him behind bars."
            Silence smirked at Avilyn's comment about the town keeping Ripnugget prisoner, but made no comment. "If we are going," she said, shouldering her crossbow, "then let's go."
            "When did we decide we were going back to town?" Git looked surprised. "I suggested retreating across the bridge. To the brambles, or possibly the woods. Going all the way back to Standpoint would give the ones still inside far too much time to prepare for our return."
            "I gotta go with Git on this one, Avi," Jack murmured. "We're not doing too badly and Brazmosazo and his pals know it. If we abandon the field completely, they might go find some smarter place to hole up, or some smarter goblins to hole up with."
            "On the other hand," Lent said, "if we try to camp close by, they could ambush us, or sneak past us and hit the town again."
            Git shook his head. "The bridge looks like the only way off of the island. If we get across to the other side, we can guard the bridge in shifts while the others sleep. And if they try to cross in the night, we cut the bridge."
            "Or," Lent said thoughtfully, "why don't we just cut the bridge and go back to town? That leaves them penned in here, and we can come back in a boat."
            "That would just guarantee they would spend the time we were gone building up their defenses," Git pointed out.
            "If they don't try to cross the bridge in the middle of the night," Lent said, "which would result in us fighting or at least waking up to cut the bridge down, they'll be spending all night improving their defenses anyway, won't they?"
            Git shrugged. "It's the uncertainty. If the bridge is left up, they may try to cross it, and lose some time - maybe even lose some strength, if we cut the bridge with some of them on it. If they know it's down, they'll be working on their defenses all night. And if they're working on their defenses anyway, we should be as close as we can, so they have less time to work with."
            Lent sighed and looked to the others. "What does everyone else think?"
            Avilyn shook her head. "If we're going to rest, we should take the couple of hours and head back to Sandpoint. The goblins are going to get the time to shore up their defenses whether we're here sitting on the doorstep or not. We could stay here, right in this room, and they would still be able to heal and work on their defenses while we slept."
            "If we go back we can insure that Ripnugget is locked up and rest without worrying if the gobs are going to rush us in the middle of the night. And we lose what," Avilyn looked at Andosana, "four or five hours to travel?"
            "I am very short on crossbow bolts," Silence said. "And I'd give my left ear for a dram of salve for this rash."
            "Barthur, Andosana?" Lent looked to the two members of the group who had yet to weigh in. "It looks as though going back to town might be best. Perhaps we finish off the dogs, check this room for valuables, and possibly check the shack the dogs appear to be guarding, and then head back - unless either of you have another idea?"
            Barthur stroked his scraggly beard.
            "Dinnae fancy goin' all the way back t' town over a few crossbow bolts," he mused. "This rash be annoyin', true, but less annoyin' than havin' t' chase them buggers down agin. I think we oughter go on. Ripnugget had plenty o' time to get his crew together. Probably threw his best at us. Oughter at least see whether they ain't storin' a boat o' their own somewhere 'round here.
            "And as fer that great hairy feller and 'is friend," he added with a grunt, "I ain't much afraid o' them. It's like me old mother always said, bugbear ain't as tough as ye'd think. Excellent cook, my mother. I say we at least look around a bit more, an' then decide. Now what about them nails?"
            Andosana broke off from gazing at the doorway to the stairs to shake her head. "I hate to let Bruthazmus get away... but if the rest of you want to rest and resupply, I'll come back with you and take another crack at him." She glanced at Barthur. "I don't know if we can stand to take much more - it doesn't look like we'll just be dealing with goblins, or goblin-kin. But if you all decide to go on, well, I can't very well leave you on your own. I'm with you, one way or the other. But I suggest you decide quickly, before any more surprises pop out of this pile of wood."
            Git shook his head. "I agree with you in principle, Barthur," he rumbled, "but some good points have been made. We do not know what lies ahead, and we are ill-prepared for it. We can re-supply in the village, and if they are foolish enough to follow us there, then it will be that much easier to kill them. Still, let us go to the roof and finish off those dogs from a safe height. That will deprive them of mounts to follow us with. Then we can go." Git looked once again at the door nailed shut. "Perhaps we can pull it open, and then use some of whats inside to barricade the door Bruthazmus and his friends went through. But only if we move quickly."
            "Very well then," Lent chimed in, "It seems decided. Andosana, Jack, Silence, to the roof to shoot goblin dogs. Git, Avilyn and I will get this door open and the other doors as blocked as we can, as quickly as we can. Regardless, we leave here in ten minutes, agreed?"
            Avilyn nodded and looked at Barthur. "You don't happen to have a prybar, do you?"
            "Wouldnae be usin' this'n if I did, would I?" Barthur grimaced, looking at his hammer and single remaining throwing axe. "Oughter just bang 'is Lordship's skull against 'er. No harm in that, not as I can see." He was not in a great mood. The bugbear had stolen from him, and the rash was worse than he wanted to admit, and he didn't want to have to cross that wretched bridge again.
            The paladin nodded. "Fair enough. We could hack at it with his enchanted dogslicer. You did say it wasn't much use as a sword. Maybe we can put that magic to better use." Avilyn looked at Git. "Could we borrow that, Git?"
            Jack reluctantly stepped back from the stairwell. Some of her energy was coming back. "You guys sure you don't want Silence here with you, to work on locks and traps and things?" she asked Lent. "Or to watch your heinies, at least? Those d-bags could get their second wind in a few. We don't want to have to keep checking back in every couple of minutes."
            Avilyn smiled at Jack and shook her head. "Well, we have the keys so hopefully locks and traps won't be an issue. And I could say the same about watching your, uh, heinie. I think we'll be alright."
            Git looked critically at the door, and the haphazard-looking nailing job. "I suspect that a few good, firm tugs on the ring will pull the whole thing free - especially if you can get some leverage." Nevertheless, Git handed the weapon over. "It is enchanted, and so should be stronger than most," he said, "but still, it is not a prybar." Then Git turned to Jack. "If you would rather remain here to 'watch heines,' I can go to the roof instead. And don't worry about checking in every few minutes," Git smiled at Jack, showing his mini-tusks, "we're leaving in ten."
            "I think that's what we said last time," Jack reminded him as she sheathed her sword. "Man, if those guys come back, just try and draw 'em outside. We can get the drop on em, no waiting." She waved forward the other elfy girls. The foaming dog fever squad. "All right, sweethearts, let's go climb that crap again. Before it falls over."

46

            While Jack, Silence and Andosana went out to climb up and kill the helpless goblin dogs, Barthur, Git, Lent and Avilyn tried to jerk open the nailed door. It was tough, but with a few tries it finally cracked and sprang open, tumbling everyone but the sturdy Barthur to the floor. A wash of vinegar-stink emerged from the room, and though it was too dim for Avilyn to make much out, Git and Barthur saw that the room was half-filled with crates, barrels, and large sacks of grain. The smell was due to a small hole that had been chopped into the lower side of one of the barrels, allowing pickles and brine to drain out onto the dirt floor.
            Barthur surveyed the scene with a squinted eye. "Now why d' ye suppose they'd nail a storeroom shut from the outside? What good would that do, I wonder?"
            He took a few steps in, peering around the walls for some sign of a hidden door, strange tracks or anything else unusual.
            Wondering the same thing, Avilyn hefted the dogslicer and stepped in behind Barthur and looked warily around.

47

            Silence takes her time aiming at the dogs with her crossbow. She doesn't mind killing them, but she doesn't appear to get any pleasure from it, either.
            She appears to have a couple of dozen crossbow bolts.
            Jack felt bad about it, especially since the bodies were just going to lie there in the sun, but she couldn't see any more value in dead goblin dogs than in living ones and it looked like there might be a prisoner in the shed. She wondered who that guy was with Brazmazusus and why he wasted his time hanging out with these creeps.
            It was nice up on the roof. If she had been a goblin, she would have liked to have stretched out up here on summer days with the smell of the water and the sea gulls squawking around and everything. You might have to clear out the evil creature poop and bodies and everything but Thistletop had potential.
            She tried calling and whistling a couple of times to see whether they might be dumb enough to come closer again.
            Killing the goblin dogs proved easy, as they had nowhere to hide from the deadly rain of arrows and crossbow bolts. Andosana grimaced at their pained yelps, muttering, "Poor stupid beasts," but did her best to aid Silence and Jack in dispatching them.

48

            Inside, Barthur found nothing unexpected in the storeroom - ratholes and goblin tracks, but no secret doors or signs of anything un-goblin-ish. Avilyn saw nothing that raised her suspicion either. They hadn't managed more than that when the others returned.
            "Great," Lent said as the others returned from dog-hunting, "Let's move some of this stuff to block those other doors, and then get moving."
            Git examined the door the bugbear had retreated through, but nodded. "The sooner we leave, the better."
            It took some effort to move the food-laden crates, sacks and barrels, but soon enough the stairway door was blocked. The group ventured outside to gaze on the rope bridge, dangling precariously from one frayed rope.
            "I don't have a rope, but if anyone else does, I can go first and take one end with me, and tie it off on the other side." Silence said.
            "Be a few lengths o' rope right here," Barthur said, wrestling off his pack for a second. "May not do th' whole trick, mind ye." He produced three coils of hemp, each about five yards long, and gave them to Silence to tie to her satisfaction.
            Meanwhile he went to examine the bridge more closely. "Don't trust this goblin-made trash," he explained to the others. "Might'n just be they rigged 'er up while we was fussin' about inside. Would ha' done th' same m'self, o' course!"
            The bridge was a wonder of goblin construction - that is, it was made up of cobbled-together chunks of flotsam and branches and tied with a confusion of knots. From what Barthur could tell, the main danger lay in the frayed rope that was currently all that was holding the whole mess up.
            With the goblin chieftan tied securely to her back, Avilyn walked slowly over to the near end of the bridge and watched the preparations. "I should probably go last. With my armor and him," she jerked a thumb over her shoulder at Ripnugget, "I'm probably the heaviest now."
            "I'll help you," Andosana offered, not without a disgusted look at Ripnugget, who was drooling on Avilyn's shoulder. "We can tie one of the ropes to you and me, that way I can hold you up if you fall." She didn't seem to consider it likely that she might fall, herself.
            Avilyn nodded. "Thank you." She had already demonstrated herself to be a poor climber and would take any help she could get to make it across in one piece.
            With Lent whispering a prayer over her, Silence tied one of Barthur's lengths of rope to the frayed and cut ends of the bridge's ropes, re-fastening them to the posts. Without further ado she stepped onto the creaking bridge, keeping her balance easily.
            It was a long, long drop down to the churning surf below. She kept her eyes on the bramble thicket on the mainland, coming slowly closer as she carefully edged across the bridge. Of course, her rash chose now to itch fiercely.
            When Silence finally stepped onto solid ground, Andosana let out a small sigh of relief. Next came Barthur and Git. The two were among the heaviest members of the group even without their packs; if the treacherous bridge held for them, it would hold for the others.
            The wind whipped around them, making the bridge sway alarmingly. The two ventured out a few feet... a few feet more... and one of the ropes gave way, making the bridge tilt crazily from the three remaining ropes. Git managed to fling himself back onto the island, but Barthur was left clinging to the ragged edge of the bridge.
            Once the dwarf had clambered back onto the dirt, they decided to retie the knots with the last remaining length of rope as well for added security. This time they crossed one at a time, and though the bridge creaked as alarmingly as ever (and Avilyn had a brief, breathless moment of imbalance), the knots held.

49

            When they returned to Sandpoint with the sun dipping toward the horizon, the townsfolks' unfeigned pleasure at seeing them was mixed with anger at their prisoner, and curiosity as to where they'd been. A small crowd grew around them as they made their way through the streets [to the jail, I presume?]. The others noticed that the townsfolk especially crowded around Avilyn, touching her and occasionally asking for a blessing or a souvenir in between their questions about the goblin. One woman held her baby so close that it grabbed her hair, and she had to pause to extricate herself before they could move on.
            Avilyn had long since grown used to the treatment and usually liked stopping to speak with her many friends in town, but this time she had a very dangerous goblin strapped to her back. So while she wasn't anything like brusque, she did move through the townspeople as quickly as possible, smiling and greeting everyone but simply touching anyone who asked for a blessing and telling anyone else that she was sorry, but she had to get this goblin to the jail before he woke up. The baby, of course, got a kiss.
            She didn't explain who Ripnugget was, despite all the questions- Avilyn decided she could leave that up to the sheriff or the mayor.
            In some cases the townsfolk were not to be deterred, getting in her way and in one case, snipping off a bit of her hair without so much as an apology.
            "Clear off, blast ye!" Barthur shouted, shaking his hairy fists at the several gawkers, including the baby. "This ain't some carnival, we got important business here! Where's yer damn muckamucks! Watch it, comin' through!" The horrendous itching under his armor didn't improve Barthur's mood.
            Avilyn put a hand on the dwarf's shoulder and gave him a dazzling smile. She hadn't worn that smile since they left the town, and it looked right on her beautiful face. In fact, for most of the day she had seemed uncharacteristically uncertain and withdrawn. Coming home seemed to be just what she needed.
            "Gently. They're fine, Barthur. They just want say hello. Be nice."
            Lent smiled brightly, and gave Barthur a friendly slap on the shoulder. "To a crowd like this," Lent said to Avilyn, "Barthur _is_ being nice." The gnome laughed, smiled, and did his best to act as something of a social breakwater, trying to intercept folks, and move them slightly to one side or the other with a handshake or a word of greeting. Not to prevent them from reaching Avilyn, of course, but to ensure that by the time they did get to the young paladin, the girl was a step or so ahead of them, which would make it just that much easier for her to continue moving along. Lent was reasonably certain that if someone didn't do something, the group would wind up surrounded and standing in one spot for a day or two, until every townsperson got to say hello.
            Git, trying to stay behind Avilyn and out of the crowd's view as much as possible, took a slightly different tack. Rather than address the crowd, if Avilyn's feet stopped moving for more than a second or two, Git simply leaned forward. This resulted in Avilyn being gently - though firmly - pushed forward, without it being obvious. It also gave Git the chance to check on Ripnugget rather often - if one agreed that "checking on" consisted of "putting your shoulder firmly into his body and pushing."
            Between Barthur, Git and Lent's efforts, the crowd reluctantly let Avilyn pass with her loathsome burden, who groaned loudly every time Git set his shoulder into him. As it was the dinner hour, as the church bells tolled a few of the townsfolk began to slip away, curiosity unsatisfied. The greater part of them remained, however.
            Jack floated along with the others, puzzled but not too bothered by the positive attention since she had never gotten much in the past. She wondered if Nualia maintained any spies or assassins in Sandpoint. It seemed like a good time to slip a poisoned dart into somebody's leg.
            Silence drifted back from the group, until the crowd of townsfolk around them separated her from the rest. Then she went to find a healer or an apothecary, in the hope if getting a salve for this thrice-damned rash.
            Jack sort of watched her go but didn't bother to say anything. By this point it was entirely in character for Silence to do her own thing without telling anybody. She was just glad she had noticed since otherwise she might have succumbed to poisoned dart paranoia.
            "Hey gang, you think we should we try hiring more people to help us, or what?" Jack said, looking around for any likely candidates nearby. It mostly looked like slack-jawed yokels. "Spear catchers abound in Sandpoint, know what I mean?"
            Avilyn frowned at Jack. "Jack, we don't..." But she was cut off by the townsfolk.
            "Well, I never!" exclaimed a matronly woman, and a few of the other townsfolk sharp enough to catch Jack's meaning muttered darkly.
            "Sounds like Vinder was right."
            "Some heroes!"
            Avilyn just shook her head at Jack and kept moving through the crowd as quickly as she could without offending anyone.

50

            The Sheriff was waiting for them outside the garrison, looking stern as usual. He gave them and their captive a grim look. "Another goblin for interrogation?"
            Andosana stepped forward, putting a hand on Avilyn's shoulder (though she was careful not to touch the bloody Ripnugget). "Not just any goblin, Sheriff. This is Ripnugget, one of the goblins' heroes and chief of the Thistletop tribe." A gasp went up among the crowd, though the names probably meant little to them. But a goblin chief, well, that was something. They began to chatter and speculate, and a few cries of, "Hang it!" rose over the noise.
            Sheriff Hemlock's expression didn't change, but he gestured for the party to take Ripnugget inside. He glowered at the few townsfolk who moved to follow, and they suddenly remembered they had dinners waiting for them. The crowd was dispersing as the Sheriff followed the party in.
            Down in the jail, Vachedi wordlessly opened a cell and stood back as Avilyn took Ripnugget in. His scars twisted his face horribly as he glared at the goblin.
            Avilyn gratefully unburdened herself, arranging the goblin on the cot and checking the unconscious little monster one last time for anything he might use to try to free himself or hurt someone. She rubbed her shoulders as she came out of the cell, looking tired now that she didn't have to keep up appearances for a crowd.
            "It looks like it will be a while before the goblin recovers enough to question," Sheriff Hemlock said dourly. "But that just gives us a chance to make sure the Mayor is notified, and for you to clean up and get some rest. Andosana, you can tell me what happened, first. Well done, everyone."
            "Rest sounds good, Sheriff. I'll be back in the morning to check on Ripnugget." Avilyn looked at Lent and the rest of the party. "I'm starving. Do you all want to go to the inn to get something to eat?"
            "Big time," said Jack.
            "Hey now, where's our Melody," Barthur asked, looking around. She was nowhere to be seen. He scratched thoughtfully at his shoulder. "Don't reckon she'd-a gone off without me, do ye? Oughter help pay for that cure-all whatsit... only right..."
            "She's gone," said Jack. "Went off. Probably to see that sneaky-looking asshole we talked to about the little doll monster thing. I didn't like that guy at all."
            "What's that ye're sayin'...?" Barthur asked. He looked really alarmed. He might have grabbed his axe and run off then and there, if it wouldn't have looked extremely silly. "Who's this feller then, Jacky? Ye don't think... she be sweet on 'im er somethin', do ye?"
            "No, no," Jack groaned, rolling her eyes a bit. "Of course not. It's just some herbalist bozo or whatever. You know. An alchemist. Whatever they're called. He wanted to buy the doll monster thing. She's probably just getting some icy-hot crap for your rat-rash."
            She didn't get what Barthur could possibly foresee in his future that might include Silence, especially in her present condition. It might have been charming if it wasn't so improbable.
            "Okay, so you guys want to go the inn?" she asked. "I don't remember where it is."

51

            Silence knew where the apothecary was, at least. It seemed the best place to find a salve. The darkening streets were no problem for her as she approached the house with the faded sign of a pillbug on a mushroom outside.
            It took several minutes of knocking before a light approached the door. "What unholy racket do you think you're - oh, it's you." Master Podiker appeared to have been caught in the middle of his dinner, if the stained cloth tucked into his shirt was any indicator. His sour expression brightened when he recognized Silence, and he swung his candle out to see her better. "Changed your mind about selling me the carcass of your monster, eh?"
            "No," Silence said, shrugging off her knapsack and dropping it to the floor next to her crossbow.
            "I no longer have that. I am here because I caught a rash at the goblin fortress. I am hoping you have a salve for it."
            "You don't have it? That's not what I hear," Podiker grunted, his expression turning sour. "I heard it's been stinkin' up the cellar under the bakery. C'mon, what do you want with a nasty thing like-" He fell silent in surprise at Silence's reaction.
            Gritting her teeth against the painful itching, Silence unlaced her leather overblouse and dropped it to the floor, then pulled up the bottom hem of her linen underblouse and revealed the raw, red patches across her stomach and lower back.
            "It's everywhere," she said.
            Podiker swallowed, then recovered enough to leer. "Well now, that looks nasty, right enough. Can't have a pretty thing like you all red and scratchy, can we?" He smiled, looking smug. "Tell you what. You bring me that rotten ol' carcass, and I'll mix you up a pot of salve will take care of that itch faster'n you can sneeze. It'll make Mrs. Avertin happy too, I'll tell ya that for free."
            Silence bared her teeth at the apothecary.
            "Give me a salve for this, and enough to take back to the rest of my friends, and I'll think about it."
            The apothecary swiped a hand over his balding head, smoothing back the greasy hair that remained, and frowned at Silence. "Whoa now, that's a powerful lot of salve to make - and all for you to just think about payin' me? Girlie, you may be one of the Heroes, but that's askin' an awful lot. I'm makin' you a good deal, here. There's folk what say you shouldn't be dealt with at all. You don't want to prove 'em right, now do you? What do you want with some stinky old rotten hunk of monster, anyways? What you want is some nice, soothing salve, take away that bad itch you got. And to get it, you gotta pay."
            Silence cursed in Dwarvish.
            "I didn't say I wouldn't pay you," she growled. "Of course I'll pay you. What I will think about is selling you that damned doll."
            "But you know what?" Silence asked, pulling her blouse back down. "That priestess probably knows some kind of prayer that can get rid of this, or she knows someone who does, and they won't screw me around. I'd rather listen to religious prattle than put up with this. Good day to you, sir."
            Silence knelt down and gathered up her pack, her leather overblouse, and her crossbow.
            Podiker's expression soured further, and he crossed his arms over his big belly. "You've got quite the attitude, lil' miss. Botherin' an honest man in the middle of his dinner, long after his shop's closed, and I'm supposed to believe you have the coin stashed away to pay me without makin' a deal? For enough good, potent salve for all yer friends? Do I look like an apprentice to you? Well, good luck findin' someone else willing to help you at this hour."
            He slammed the door shut after her, making the sign painted with a pillbug on a mushroom swing, and she could hear the tromp of his feet receding into his house.
            Furious and miserable, Silence went looking the rest of her group.

52

            The party (sans Andosana, who stayed behind to brief the Sheriff) found their way back to the Rusty Dragon, where the smell of delicious hot food made their stomachs cramp. Fortunately for Avilyn, there weren't many locals, so she was left more or less in peace. The staff, Ameiko included, were pleased to see them, and soon they were enjoying roast rabbit with piping hot spiced potatoes and mushrooms, and a fine, sweet ale.
            As they were eating, Ameiko made her way over to the table in the guise of refilling their tankards. "What's this I hear about you bringing a goblin king back to town?" she asked, keeping her voice down. "There's a story I'd like to hear!"
            Avilyn smiled at Ameiko and daintily dabbed away a bit of potato at the corner of her mouth. "Ripnugget." She nodded. "Andosana said he was a chieftan and champion of the tribe. Nasty little goblin, too. He had this giant lizard he rode like a horse, except he liked to ride it up the walls."
            She gestured at Jack with a utensil. "Jack here did most of the damage on him." She gestured at Git, too. "And Git, with his magic. And that was after we had to fight our way into the tribe's warren in the first place." Avilyn shook her head.
            Git gave a strangely diffident-seeming shrug, and ducked his head in a semi-acknowledgement of Avilyn's words. The half-orc filled his mouth with a spoonful of stew, which delayed any verbal response long enough (he hoped) to let someone else speak, and deflect the attention from him.
            "In any case, he probably led the goblins who attacked Sandpoint. I hope everyone will get to see him stand trial. It will help the town's morale, I think." Avilyn finished.
            Lent, perched at the other end of the table, nodded. "The previous trial seemed to help," he said, "but if that's not enough, this stew would lift anyone's spirits!" Lent then raised his mug of ale in salute to Ameiko and her staff. "Thank you for taking such good care of us, Ameiko."
            Jack grunted in agreement, too busy chowing down to say anything.
            Ameiko shook her head appreciatively. "I'd almost forgotten the kinds of things adventurers get up to. You'll have to tell me the whole story when you have the time." She smiled, scooping up the last empty tankard onto her tray, and headed back to the bar.
            She didn't stay at the bar, though, taking the stage shortly afterward with a lute. The patrons quieted as she sang in a clear, sweet voice, a song of love and adventure that raised the spirits and left a smile on the listeners' faces.
            As she sang, Andosana entered, giving Ameiko a quick wave before settling at the table with the party. "It's good to be back at the Dragon," she sighed, gesturing for the servers to bring her some food. Then her face darkened, and she glared at her knotted fists lying on the table. The look was so full of hate it was amazing her hands didn't burst into flame. "I just can't believe Bruthazmus got away again. That monster has more lives than a cat. Next time... next time."
            Barthur, who had been moping in silence at the gloomiest end of the table, for once in his life hardly able to overeat, had grown almost misty-eyed at the innkeeper's singing. He stared mournfully at the empty seat across from him. It was only the elf's vociferous attitude that managed to rouse him a little.
            "What's tae happen next time, then?" he grunted, waving his drumstick around. "Ye think he'd even be daft enough tae hang about waitin' fer us? He ain't got but a pair o' comrades left - an' don't ask me tae count 'is wee gobblie friend, either. A dwarf can only manage so many disdainful snorts inna day."
            "Don't forget that druid. Between him and his cat they almost took us before we ever got into the place. Though we don't need to worry about the cat anymore." Avilyn sighed. "I wish I could've gotten one of those goblins to listen to me. I don't think anyone wants N... those people up there with the tribe, not even the goblins."
            "Next time," Andosana said grimly, unclenching her fists to stab the roast rabbit with her knife, "he won't get away, whether he's still at Thistletop or run off like the cowardly bastard he is. Next time I'll avenge all the farmers and merchants he's killed, and worse than killed. Next time his evil will end, permanently." She glowered at the table, fuming, as Silence joined them.
            Finally taking a deep, calming breath, Andosana sighed and turned to look at Silence. "Where have you been off to?" she asked curiously.
            The paladin listened to Andosana with a concerned expression on her face, but concentrated on eating instead of responding to the elf woman's zealotry. She looked up curiously when the ranger spoke to Silence.
            "Trying to find a cure for this rash," Silence said. "Avilyn, does your temple have an herbalist? Or someone who knows a prayer to cure rat-rash?"
            "I know it's bad now, but it shouldn't last more than a day," Andosana broke in, sounding sympathetic. "You should be fine by tomorrow afternoon or evening."
            "Ye know, I hate t' say it," Barthur muttered, thumping his little fist on the table, "and I mean I *really* hate t' say it, but we might wanner wash these 'ere clothes o' ours or chuck 'em out. Anythin' that causes a bad rash like this'n kin sit 'n yer clothes 'n' spread around. Damn them dirty rat-dog bastards. Godsdammit."
            He sounded a little more spirited, though, now that Silence was back and in a bad mood.
            Avilyn nodded. "I've heard that, too." She looked at Silence. "I've seen Father Zantus cure minor injuries, but never seen him do anything to something like your rash. Hannah Velerin usually takes care of the town's minor aches, pains and illnesses. She lives at the bottom of Hook Street by the shipyard. And of course there's Aliver "Pillbug" Podiker, our apothecary."
            "The apothecary and I don't get along," Silence said sullenly. "I'm going to go take a bath and burn my clothes. See you tomorrow."
            "Yeah. Speaking of toxic waste disposal," Jack put in, passing over Silence's exit to repeatedly jab a knife into a duck part, "we should ask those Church dudes what they've done about all that evil poop underneath the glassworks - like that nutty room with the lightning, or that creepy-ass well - rather than, say, just assume that they've done something besides jack shit... like the rest of Sandpoint."
            Avilyn frowned and put down her spoon. She turned to Jack, the frown still pulling at her shapely lips. "Jack, it would help if you could stop insulting the town and the people who live here. That comment about looking for spear catchers made a lot of people out there mad, and I didn't care for it much either. This is my home and these people are my friends. We're trying to help them, and they look up to us for it."
            "You could inspire these people if you gave them half a chance. Instead you started a rumor out there," Avilyn gestured at the door, indicating their earlier walk through town, "that we don't care if they live or die. If you can't stop thinking them, at least keep your thoughts in your head where all these people you think so little of can't hear them."
            "Aw, give 'er a break, lass," Barthur grunted. He wasn't a barbarian, thank the All-Father, but he wasn't much used to crowds, either. "Not many o' us here got much t' do with town-folk, an' we be real used t' lookin' out fer usselves. I come along t' help some old mates too, maybe find a bit o' profit t' boot; but all the real mates is right in this 'ere inn, an' the profit ain't much t' speak of, least not so far.
            "Can't even get th' sheriff to lend a hand, since yer neighbors can't nearly look after themselves - which just ain't conceivable, least to a dwarf," he grimaced. "We all like ye fine, Avilyn, yer brave 'n' true, but most o' these dirt-bags, like that there apothecary feller, oughter be grateful we lift a finger fer 'em. Nobody else is gonnae, there's th' damn truth."
            "I'm going to bed," said Jack sullenly, dropping the utensil onto the table and getting up. "You know, I get your point, okay? I'm just not here to shake hands and kiss babies, Avilyn. I'm here to kick ass and save the day. Maybe that makes me a stupid barbarian or whatever but I do know one thing for sure: if Nualia tried this shit on the Axe Clan like she's trying here, she'd have a whole pissed-off berserker tribe knocking on her front door, babies included. Not just a half-dozen broke-ass adventurers from out of town. See you guys tomorrow."
            "And if I walked around your Axe Clan calling old women and children spear-catchers and telling my friends how dumb I thought your clanmates all were, you wouldn't say anything?" Avilyn shook her head. "You don't have to shake hands or kiss anyone's baby. Just don't insult people where they can hear you."
            Andosana shook her head. "If you're so contemptuous of the people who live here, why are you helping them at all? You're good people, Avilyn, and I'm sure if everyone knew what we know, they'd be willing to try to stop it - and I'm sure it would kill them, too. They're not adventurers, they're shopkeepers, farmers and housewives. That's why people like me," she leveled a look at Barthur, "spend our time protecting them. Even from threats they don't know are there."
            Jack shrugged. "I don't insult people for nothing. And I'm not talking about recruiting old women and children to help us, either, which I think you know. You think you're helping these people by coddling them? 'Oh, they're just peasants, they can't be expected to defend themselves.' You know who else believes that? Nualia and Bruthazmus."
            Avilyn nodded at Andosana. "They do other things, Jack. Do you know how to run a farm or operate a mill? Or could you fix a fishing boat or bring in a steady supply of goods from the cities? We had a glassworks here- good glass is hard to make, and we were very good at it." She shook her head. "Everyone works hard at something. You work hard at fighting monsters. These people don't. And I'd expect that Bruthazmus thinks just as contemptuously of the people who live here as you do. I'm not sure I'd want to use that as support for my position if I were you."
            Git grunted, then stood up. "That's enough," he rumbled. He didn't raise his voice, shout, or pound on the table. Git didn't sound angry, and he wasn't frowning, but his already imposing face looked to be carved from green granite. "This is a culture thing. I'm probably the only person here who gets it. Jack," Git looked at the Shoanti, "I truly do get it. It is the same in my Father's clan. Let us get a bottle of something and go upstairs. We can discuss it there, where the soft ones won't need to be offended."
            Git gave everyone at the table a level look, then a polite nod, and gestured for Jack to proceed him up the stairs to the group's common room. He snagged two mugs and an unopened bottle - he didn't appear to care what it contained - without looking. "Let's go, Jack."
            Barthur grunted as Git and Jack went off together.
            "Well, we all do it how we do it," Barthur shrugged. "Ain't a big thing, really. I unnerstand just as well as Git, hmph! Even a dwarf shopkeeper don't lay down to no goblins! But that's just a dwarf's nature. Gnome's, too. Lent here ain't afraid t' fight, an' he's just a little feller. But other folks is differnt, I guess. Might be out there on th' plains folks don't make no excuses fer theyselves. Or might be ol' Jack's tired o' havin' t' make excuses fer herself. Might just be why she's out here with us."
            He thumped the table again. "Don't think we oughter be tellin' each other how t' be, though! Far as I'm concerned, it's yer business why ye fight and Jack's business why she does. Enough fer me that ye do fight. Both saved our tails more than once these past couple o' days. These 'ere Sandpointers can think what they like too, far as I'm concerned. Ain't never won no durn popularity contests meself, whatever I tried t' do. If we all get kilt t'morrow it don't matter what our intentions was: they'll have t' fight, or snuff it."
            Lent looked troubled, and it looked almost as though a cloud had passed over his features.
            "I know what it's like," he said, "to be fighting goblins by yourself, knowing that you're completely outnumbered. Knowing that no matter how hard you fight, you're going to lose, and children are going to die." The little gnome looked as though he was somewhere else, seeing something that the rest of them could not. "I would not wish that feeling on any of these folk. Crisis brings out the truth of a person," he said, "and while I'm sure many of these folk would discover their true strength if it came down to it, I'd just as soon spare them the experience." He took a deep draught from his mug of ale. His smile returned, though if it looked just a little forced, that was, perhaps, understandable.
            "So let's remember who we are, and why we fight - whatever the reason - and enjoy the fact that tonight, right now, we don't have to. Tomorrow, Gods willing, we will take the fight back to those who deserve it."
            "Hear hear, ol' pal," Barthur said, raising his own mug in agreement, then draining it empty. Leave it to the smallfolk to see good sense! Just like old times. Almost.
            Avilyn lifted her mug as well, a smile on her lips. "Well said, Lent."

53

            Silence had intended to eat with the others, but the rash was making her so miserable she couldn't imagine staying in her clothes a minute longer than necessary. She left the tavern and walked swiftly to Sandpoint Savories, where she was renting a room from the Avertin family.
            As she'd been gone several days, she knocked before entering, rather than just walking in the door.
            The Avertin family was happy to see Silence, and she was clucked over by Mrs. Avertin, who saw to it that the half-elf received a plate of cooling food and the use of the family tub. Once cold water had been splashed into the tub by either Arika or Aneka (it was impossible to tell whom) and a kettle of hot water set beside it, she was left to her own devices in her room, though it was clear that the twins, at least, would have liked to have questioned her about her adventures.
            Silence was polite with her hosts, but didn't volunteer anything about the trip.
            After her bath, she wadded up her rash-ruined linens and set them aside, intending to burn them later. She'd need to buy more, if this became a trend.
            Her sleep was fitful, as the itch and pain of the rash woke her repeatedly.
            Rising early the next morning, she put on clean linens, and brushed her leather as clean as she could before donning it again.
            Bidding her hosts good-bye, she returned to the tavern and looked for the rest of the team.

54

            Silence found a chipper-looking Lent and a somewhat groggy-looking Git finishing their breakfasts at the same table the group had used last night. Git had spent much of the evening drinking with Jack while examining the magical items the group had captured during their foray. Apparently, Git had drunk a bit more wine than was good for him. Keeping up with Jack was dangerous. Still, he'd awakened at his accustomed hour and studied his magic in the dawn's light while Lent had said his prayers and then bounced down the stairs his nigh-irrepressible self.
            "Hello Silence!" Lent gave the girl a wave. "You look much better, if you don't mind my saying. How are you feeling this morning - would you join us for breakfast?"
            Silence sat down at the table with Lent. "I am much improved," she said. "Still itchy, but bearable." She looked around. "How is everyone else? You seem unreasonably cheerful." Silence took a roll from Git's plate and picked it apart with her fingers.
            "Sleeping," Lent answered. "And I don't think a little cheer in the morning, after having survived yesterday, is unreasonable." He gave the girl a smile, which faded a bit as she picked at the roll. Lent suspected she was working up to something.
            "I have been thinking," she said, her eyes focused on the roll. "I don't have any desire to go back to Thistletop. I think we were lucky to get out of there alive, and I can't think of a good reason to go back."
            Lent nodded. "I can understand that," he said. "Most people don't quite understand Desna's blessings. They think she only has so much good luck to dole out, and that at some point, they'll have used it all up, and the bad luck will have to balance out - and when it does, they'll pay for it." Lent's voice was gentle - not pitying or cajoling. He spoke as if he'd had this discussion before. "Silence," he said, "I've been there. I've been 100 per-cent convinced that I was going to die, and for nothing. That goblins were going to feast on my corpse, and the corpses of little children I'd sworn to protect. And I wondered how my Goddess could let that happen." Lent smiled. "Turns out, she didn't. We were rescued just at the nick of time. We were lucky beyond description. And yet," Lent said, "My Lady still blesses me, every single day."
            Lent slid matching pots of honey and cold butter over to Silence. "We were lucky yesterday," he said. "But that luck has given us the chance to learn some wisdom. Some better tactics. And given us the ability to prepare for our return today, so that we might not need to be so lucky. But you know what? Giving Desna a chance to bless you with good luck isn't such a bad thing."
            The little gnome gestured at the inn, and the town outside it. "One good reason to go," he asked, "If I can give you one, will you go? Or is it that you have one good reason not to go, and you'd like me to address that?" Lent's face was serious, but still upbeat. He was clearly taking Silence seriously, but it was as if he knew a secret that she didn't, and he couldn't wait for her to discover it. Like a child who had given a sibling a wrapped gift, and now waited eagerly to see them open it. But at the same time, he clearly wasn't trying to make her feel stupid, or ashamed. It was an odd dichotomy, and it was suddenly apparent that Lent was, in fact, a priest - trained in the ways of counseling troubled souls, as well as swinging a mace, or winning at cards.
            Silence shrugged. "A good reason to go would be something," she said. "I can think of several reasons not to."
            "Everyone can do that," Jack murmured around a mouthful of soft black bread. "Someone's sure to be killed before this is over. But you know there are people here who won't abandon the cause. You prepared to leave them to it?" She bit into another crust, her eyes on Silence, curious but cool.
            Git, sitting next to Jack, put a hand on her leg, under the table. A silent reminder of their conversation the night before.
            Lent looked at both women, then shook his head. "It shouldn't be about guilt," he said, "Guilt isn't a good reason to do much of anything, except examine your own life choices. One good reason to go is that, if we succeed, we prevent the deaths of more innocents. We do something that isn't much fun, perhaps, so that others don't have to."
            "Enough has already been made of the cost to innocent life for it not to have occurred to her," said Jack mildly, "and it sounds to me like she _is_ examining her own life choices. I hope you don't think I'm judging you, Silence. It's your life. I might even go with you if had a neat alternative -- and if you wanted the company. But you _do_ understand this group would split over the decision. Not that groups have to stay together, of course, but it does constrain certain adventure options. And Git," she said, leveling a very serious look at the half-orc, "let's not do that so much, okay? I'm a big girl. Thank you."
            "I don't have anything more interesting lined up," Silence said. "I'm just not crazy about being maimed by goblins on behalf of people, most of whom would be just as happy to see the last of us. I couldn't even get a salve for that goblin rash. A *salve*. Not chain mail, or a horse, or anything extravagant. Just a tin of *medicine*, for Shelyn's sake."
            Silence finished picking apart the roll and brushed the crumbs from her fingers. "If these people were trapped in a pit, they'd try to sell us the rope to pull them out."
            "What were that salve-dealin' feller's problem, then?" Barthur asked, scowling over his slabs of bacon. "Oughter have some o' that stuff on hand if we be headin' back t' th' place."
            "That guy is definitely off," said Jack, reaching for the milk. "He was interested in buying or trading for that doll monster thing when we talked to him the first time... I mean, if it's the same man that I'm thinking of."
            "That's the same one," Silence said. "It's all he would talk about. I decided I'd rather endure the rash than listen to him anymore."
            Silence picked up a table knife and balanced it on a fingertip.
            "I'm not even sure where I left the ugly thing," Silence said, peering at the knife. "Didn't we bury it somewhere? I'm tempted to dig it up and burn it in front of him just to see his face. In the middle of his shop, preferably."

55

            Had it only been a day? Less than a day. It had felt like weeks. The sky outside her small window was just beginning to lighten with the grey light of pre-dawn. She habitually woke before the sun, in order to make her morning prayers as Sarenrae revealed her blessing to the world for another day.
            Avilyn stretched and rolled, swinging her feet off the bed- the thin mattress that would have been unacceptable in any inn, but it was hers- and onto the floor. As she did almost every morning, she dug her toes into the thick white fur, simply enjoying one of her few luxuries for a moment before starting her day.
            The sheepskin rug had been a gift from Nualia, given to her by her sister-in-spirit on Avilyn's last nameday before the fire. Avilyn remembered the beautiful, otherworldly girl every time she took the opportunity to think about the rug. Nualia had been a virtual older sister to Avilyn, the only person who understood the villagers' adulation, the burden of being Chosen.
            Of course, Nualia had been more obviously touched by her god than Avilyn. While Avilyn was beautiful, she was simply a very pretty human girl. Nualia's beauty was inhuman, her blessing visible to anyone who looked her way. And then Nualia and Father Tobyn had died in the fire, and Avilyn had lost her spiritual father and sister all in one horrible night.
            Today she had to try hard not to think about what Nualia might be doing up at Thistletop.
            She had taken a long bath last night and spent a good long while cleaning and repairing her gear as well as Ripnugget's breastplate and crown. So Avilyn took only a moment to wash her face and hands in the bowl on her table by the door before kneeling on the cold stone floor beneath the window to await the sunrise.
            Avilyn smiled as the first rays of sunlight lit the clouds. Seeing the sun for the first time in the morning was like a child seeing her mother in the morning. Avilyn's worries disappeared and for a few moments all she did was think of how much she loved and was loved in return. She meant every word of the prayer that followed.

It comes!
Through your divine grace, O Great and Glorious Sarenrae,
The sun with righteous fire rises, healing in its wings!
The glory of the Dawnflower shines upon us.
More precious than gold, your shining splendor.
Sweeter than honey, your radiant forgiveness.
O dispeller of darkness, shining one,
O radiant and effulgent goddess of mercy,
You banish choking night and the blindness of our ignorance.
Your Dawn brings new light.
For the night is dark and full of terrors.
Sarenrae be praised.

56

            They started at the Feathered Serpent, since it was the closest. Voon wasn't quite as excited and gregarious as usual (and, oddly enough, a tiny gem seemed to be orbiting his head), but quite willing to buy both the enchanted dogslicer and the fire wand, and he laughed in delight when they told him the story of Ripnugget's crown and the quasit's tiara, and offered to buy them as well. However, without knowing more about the wand, Voon was only able to offer 75 gold for it. "You might try asking Madame Mvashti about it," he suggested sympathetically at their disappointment, referring to the town's oldest citizen. "If she can tell you more, we can renegotiate." For the rest, he offered to pay them 1075 gold or its value in trade.
            At Savah's Armory, Savah nodded as she examined the breastplate they had looted from Ripnugget, seeming a bit more reserved than previously. "It's in amazingly good shape, considering what it's been through," she noted, making Avilyn glad she had taken the time to clean it up. Making up her mind, Savah looked up at Avilyn from where she was seated. "Banded mail I have, and it's a more than even trade for this. But I tell you what. If you can scrape together another 50 gold, I'll trade you that suit of armor you've been drooling over since I got it from Magnimar. No, not the dragonhide plate," she laughed, "the other one. Banded mail, like you wanted, but made by Master Hammerstrong."
            Avilyn beamed at Savah. "I'll get that plate eventually. But that's a deal on Master Hammerstrong's armor." If she could scrape up the money, that was. Hopefully Madame Mvashti would have good news for them about that wand.
            Tander watched them myopically as they looked around his shop, apparently sure that if he didn't, they'd knock something over. When questioned about a healing potion, he brightened, adjusting his smudged glasses on his forehead as he thought. "I did trade for what I'm assured is a much stronger potion just last market day," he said, running his fingers lightly over a section of vials until he plucked one up triumphantly. He held it up to the light, swirling the green liquid about. "It's a bit pricey at 300 gold, of course, but well worth it for a band of intrepid adventurers such as yourselves. The harpy musk you can have for just 2 gold."

57

            With the Sheriff present, Vachedi opened the door to Ripnugget's cell to let in Lent and Jack. This resulted in Ripnugget immediately dashing over to sink his teeth into Vachedi's leg, making the otherwise silent jailkeeper howl, the other cells' inmates jump up and start shouting, and general pandemonium. Sheriff Hemlock drew his sword and stabbed at the goblin, but Ripnugget let go of his chewtoy and scuttled away.
            Lent snapped a word, and six gallons of water appeared out of thin air above Ripnugget's head. The little gnome's eyes flashed with malice as he drew the mace at his belt and stood to block the door. <"You think you die on you feet like a brave Chief?"> Lent snarled at the goblin, <"You wrong. We break you knees, break you arms, leave you to die in bed, while we go kill all you tribe.">
            Ripnugget hacked and sputtered in a satisfying way as he shook off the sudden drenching like a dog. Vachedi was no fool, and had already locked the outer door before opening the cell, but Ripnugget had no chance to test that with Lent armed and ready in the way.
            With a furious howl Ripnugget charged at Lent, oversized head gaping open to reveal his too-plentiful teeth.
            Lent wasn't overly impressed by Ripnugget's teeth. He'd seen them already, and he figured his mace would break them just fine. He waited for the goblin chief to charge, then brought his mace around, intending to remove Ripnugget's only weapons with it.
            Ripnugget, even as badly wounded as he still was, was too fast for Lent's first, reflexive strike to hit, and then Ripnugget was on him. The two grappled for a moment, and it was like falling back in time to the orphanage, Lent struggling against the stronger goblin foe for control of his weapon. Then Ripnugget bit Lent's arm and the gnome dropped his mace. Ripnugget scooped it up and held it ready to assault anyone who approached as the screams in Lent's memory dispersed.
            This wasn't good, but Lent was certain Desna had his back in this instance - and if She didn't, Jack, Vachedi and the Sherrif surely did. He stepped back out of the way to give the bigger folks room to maneuver, and to give himself room to maneuver. He pulled the tiny dagger from his belt and let it fly at the goblin.
            There wasn't really that much room to maneuver in the aisle between the cells, and Sheriff Hemlock and the enraged Vachedi blocked Jack from coming to Lent's rescue. Fortunately, the gnome wasn't left helpless. He threw the tiny dagger at Ripnugget, scoring a solid hit, and the miniature dagger returned to his open hand a moment later.
            The Warchief staggered, fresh blood running over the hand he put over the new wound. Then Vachedi leapt forward with a glare that froze the blood, cracking the goblin over the head with his truncheon. Ripnugget collapsed, and the Sheriff did his best to hold Vachedi back so that he didn't kill their prisoner outright. The handful of other prisoners backed away from the bars, respectful of the powerful Shoanti's fury.
            After a few moments Vachedi seemed to calm down a bit, puffing heavily and still shooting the goblin an angry look. Sheriff Helmock dragged Ripnugget back into his cell, saying, "Vachedi, have Hannah look at that bite. You can bring some rope with you when you come back." His tone brooked no argument, so after passing his keys to the Sheriff, Vachedi limped up the stairs and left.
            Sheriff Hemlock rubbed his face wearily. "You've brought us a horrible little monster, no mistake. We'll tie it up if it lives. When it's been hanged, I think people will rest easier."
            "I'd tie it up anyway," Lent said, retrieving his mace and wincing. "If nothing else, it gives you something to drag the body to the bonfire with, so as not to dirty your hands." The gnome decided rather quickly not to waste his Goddess's blessings on the goblin - and his own wounds were primarily to his pride. "I don't suppose we'll be getting much in the way of answers out of him for the moment. Thank you for trying, Sheriff."
            "Come on, Jack," Lent said, "Let's go see if we can help the others with the shopping and get on our way. There's more like him to stop."

58

            Silence kept her purchases simple, aware of her dwindling supply of coins. That morning she had borrowed a fresh blouse from one of the Avertin sisters, a pretty blue one that was clearly one of their very best, since she couldn't very well walk the streets shirtless. A stop at the Sandpoint Boutique allowed her to find another, used but not too worn, for a silver piece while the shopkeeper, Hayliss Korvaski, chatted with Avilyn about Abadar and the Dawnflower, an old discussion that seemed to have no end.
            Avilyn spent far too much time at the Sandpoint Boutique, even though she didn't need to buy anything there. The devout young woman always enjoyed talking with Mrs. Korvaski. Father Tobyn had taught her to enjoy discussing her faith with people of different beliefs, and Avilyn could spend hours discussing religion with the shopkeeper.
            Silence bought some dried fruit and meat at the meat market and the grocer's hall, and two quivers of crossbow bolts from Savah. When she went to the general store to pick up a tinder box and a small flask of lamp oil, to replace what she'd used under the glassworks, Vinder gave her a sour look.
            "Well well, look who's back," he said in a tone that matched his expression, looking her and Git over. Shaking his head, he went to find her requests.
            "When we are done here, " Silence said to Git, "I would like your help with a small errand. I want to retrieve the ugly doll and destroy it. "
            Git looked puzzled for a moment. "Doll," he said, "ah. Yes, that. Good idea. Happy to help." The half-orc gave Silence another look. "You do not share a room with us at the 'Dragon - which has been offered free of charge in exchange for our service, and you pay for things with your own monies when we have the means to buy them with the spoils of battle. Why do you choose to do this?" Git was obviously asking out of a genuine curiosity - there did not seem to be any judgement in his tone or expression, just a simple desire to know Silence's reasoning.
            As they finished their conversation Vinder returned to the counter with the tinderbox and oil flask. "One gold, seven silver," he said flatly, leaning on the counter.
            Git raised an eyebrow. "Tell me, good sir," he said, his voice deep and even, "Is it customary for shopkeepers in this town to take advantage of young women who risk their lives to help protect the townsfolk?"
            "Don't even try that tack, orc," Vinder said with a look of contemptuous disgust. "I know you've been accepting the hospitality of everyone in town, riding high on having helped drive out the goblins during the Festival, and all the while looking down on us honest folk. I even offered you my hand in friendship, and you all but spat on it and walked away. So in this 'spear-catcher's' shop, you can pay what I ask, or you can wait 'til Market Day rolls 'round again and buy what you want from some poor sod from Magnimar who doesn't know what you think of them."
            His other customers waited in line silently, staring at the group with expressions that varied from unreadable to appalled (though whether it was at the group's behavior or Vinder's was unclear). Unconcerned with such matters, small children continued to play amid the wares, giggling and making goblin faces at each other.
            Git grunted.
            "So," he said, "to be clear: you feel that, because one or two of the townsfolk have given us some special consideration in exchange for us risking our lives - repeatedly - to protect the good people of Sandpoint, - including your own daughter - you believe it's proper and fair for you to over charge us for the items we will need to go forth and risk our lives again?" Git raised an eyebrow. He was trying to tread carefully here, as diplomacy was not his strong suit, and he had held hopes of trying to be accepted here.
            "No," Vinder said shortly, "I'm charging a perfectly fair price to mercenaries who think running off some goblins entitles them to belittle and insult us good people of Sandpoint whenever they like."
            "We are not asking special consideration of you, Master Vinder," Git said, "we ask only for fair prices. I regret that some of you think my companions and I do not care for your safety or 'look down' upon you. I assure you that I do not. But I can tell you that behavior like this, in exchange for the risks we take on your behalf, it does not serve to improve our opinions of you. I will also say that, unlike you, Master Vinder, *I* am able to differentiate the actions of one person acting independently, and not hold it against an entire group. Your behavior, while serving to tarnish your own reputation, will not prevent us from doing our best to help the rest of the good people of Sandpoint. Nor," Git concluded, "will it prevent us from helping you right along with them - whether you deserve it or not."
            "You think _my_ reputation is tarnished?" Vinder chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. "I'm an honest citizen of good standing, one who hasn't been treating people as beneath me. So before I worry about _your_ opinion of _me,_ maybe you should put a finger to the wind yourselves. Now, if you don't want my wares, I'll thank you to leave so I can get on with my business."
            A pretty dark-haired woman who had been listening nearby came up beside Vinder and put a hand on his arm. "Wait, Ven." Vinder's face softened as he looked at her, and he put a hand over hers. Turning to the party, she peered at them with keenly intelligent eyes. "Just what help is it you're talking about? What have you been doing out in the wilderness?"
            "Probably looking for the Sandpoint Devil," Vinder scoffed, but she shushed him and waited for the party's reply.
            Git gave the woman a nod. "I do not wish to alarm anyone," he said, "and if my companions and I are able continue our task, there shall be no need for alarm. But perhaps you were unaware that the reason we did not wish to be held up by the crowd of well-wishers last evening was that we carried with us a captive - Ripnugget - a goblin chief we defeated in battle. He was one of those responsible for the raid on this town, and even now waits for trial. We took him in his own lair, surrounded by more than a dozen of his tribe, and several of our party nearly died in the taking. Fortunately, we had the blessings of the Godesses Desna and Sarenrae with us, as well as our own skills, and we all survived. But there are more of them, and we intend to hunt them all down and remove any threat they may even think of posing to Sandpoint." Git's voice was deep, resonant, but not raised in boast or threat. He merely spoke his intentions. "But to do that," he said, letting his voice to a conversational level, "we need equipment. At reasonable prices."
            "In that case, I think you owe my husband an apology. I'm sure you can afford that," the woman said crisply, patting Vinder's arm to quell his scowl as she added, "And then we'll see about selling you what you need."
            And the second Avilyn walked into Vinder's shop she knew she had spent too much time talking to Ms. Korvaski. She put on a small smile and walked up to stand next to Git. "Of course, Solsta." Avilyn looked at Silence and Git both, the smile still on her lips but her eyes urging the two of them to apologize. "We will apologize."
            Silence put away her coin purse. "You are wasting your time, Git." To the woman, Silence added, "Give my best to your daughter." Then she left the store.
            Git frowned. These so-called "civilized" people were beginning to make him long for the simple ways of his father's people - and not for the first time.
            After a moment, he spoke. "I am sorry, Avilyn, but I have nothing to apologize for. I did not insult any of these people, least of all Master or Mistress Vinder. I merely asked that Master Vinder here charge us fair prices for the wares we need to keep his friends and family safe. I will not apologize for asking to be treated fairly. If someone from our party need apologize for anything, let them apologize for their own actions. I will not be held accountable for idle words - just as I will not hold Master Vinder's attempt to gouge us against the rest of the town. But I think Silence is correct - I am wasting my time here, and that is disappointing. Good day."
            With that, Git gave a polite half-bow to the room and followed Silence outside, closing the door behind himself gently - careful not to slam it, or seem as though he was leaving in anger.
            Avilyn shook her head and spoke to Git's retreating back. "People judge us by the company we keep, Git. For better or worse, if one of us does or says something, it reflects on all of us." She couldn't do anything to prolong the conversation, though. They could talk about it later. They would talk about it later. Provoking the townspeople they were trying to help was just mucking everything up.
            The beautiful young woman turned back to Vinder, his wife and the other patrons of the shop and began her attempts at damage control.
            Solsta looked scandalized, but Ven Vinder only shook his head grimly. "Avilyn, we all know you're a good girl - you shouldn't be hanging around with their sort. They had the luck to be in the right place at the right time, but they've been taking advantage of it ever since. Getting my daughter into trouble after trying to take advantage of her, trying to corner me into a fistfight in front of the whole town, and walking out on me just like they just did when I offered them my hand in friendship for getting my daughter out of the trouble _they_ put her into. Now they think they can waltz around town calling names of people who actually welcomed them in, and set our prices for us? All this because they're out riling up goblins in the wilderness like a hundred other adventurers?" The other customers listened in rapt silence as Vinder leaned over the counter earnestly.
            "Avilyn, you don't have to prove anything to us - we all know you're the real hero around here. Why, you've been blessed by the gods themselves!" There was a murmur of agreement at this. Avilyn Firehair was blessed by Sarenrae, everyone knew that. It was plain to see just looking at her. "You don't need to hang around those so-called 'Heroes' to make your family proud as punch for what you've done. But you're right - if you do stay with them, you'll be tarred with the same brush." He looked pained, and put a fatherly hand on her shoulder. "Girl, no one wants to have to tell your family that you died in the company of low mercenaries. Stay here in town, where we need you," he pleaded.
            Avilyn smiled at Vinder, glad to have the chance to talk to him and try to turn him around. She shook her head, though, at his assertion. "I'm not trying to make anyone proud, Master Vinder, just doing what needs to be done." She gestured vaguely in Thistletop's direction.
            "We were trying to keep this quiet, but I feel like you have the right to know. They're," Avilyn gestured at the door, indicating Git and Silence, "not the ones who've been riling up the goblins. Those goblins have got it in their heads that they can attack our town and take over this whole area." At least, that was what she assumed Tsuto had offered them in return for their support. She tried not to think of Nualia, concentrating instead on Tsuto. "We went out there and brought back their chieftan- who led the raid on the town, and you can be sure he'll be tried for his crimes- to try to stop them from coming back." There were gasps from the customers at this revelation, and the line waiting to be helped broke up as people crowded the counter for Ven and Solsta's attention, trying to buy more goods, while others rushed out of the shop, no doubt to spread the news. Ven was hard-pressed to listen as Avilyn continued over the raised voices.
            She sighed and looked around at the other villagers. "We have to go back out there to finish this once and for all. We pushed them back when they raided us, we hurt them yesterday, we captured their chief. We can beat them. We can put a stop to their plan. But I can't do it by myself. Shalelu helped us yesterday, but even with her we needed Git- he's the half-orc who just left here- we needed his magic. And we needed Silence- she's the girl who just left- we needed her skills. And Lent, the Desnan priest, and Jack, the Shoanti, and Barthur, the dwarf. I need them. We need them. To protect the town and stop the goblins."
            "Some of them are a rough sort who aren't very good with words. Some of them aren't very friendly. But they're here, helping us, fighting goblins out there so the goblins don't come back here. They've all bled for this town, just like me, just like Shalelu and the sheriff and the watch. And they're all dedicated to fighting the goblins, just as much as I am."
            "But just like I couldn't do this by myself, we can't do it by ourselves. We need your help, your backing. We need to know that when we come back to town we're coming to a safe, friendly place where we can rest and heal up before going back out there. Because we are going to go back out there. Again and again until it's done and the town is safe."
            "I pledge this to you in Sarenrae's name. With your support we will see Sandpoint safe."
            Ven waved a hand for quiet in vain, then gave up and addressed Avilyn over the hubbub. "They're mercenaries, Avilyn. The mayor paid them to deal with the goblins. That doesn't mean what they do in town is without consequence. You saw it yourself - they're so arrogant, they wouldn't even bend to apologize, which costs them nothing. They either don't really need my goods, or they're plain stupid. But all right. You say they're helping Sandpoint, then I believe you. I won't ban them from my store. But you tell them that in my shop, _I_ set the by-the-gods-damned prices." Then he hurried over to stop a customer from spilling dried beans all over the floor as she hurriedly scooped them out of their barrel.
            Avilyn nodded and smiled at the shopkeeper, then his wife. "Thank you, Master Vinder. Your shop, your prices. I think I will probably be doing the shopping next time." She looked around at the now-desperate shoppers. "Sorry for this. But we will stop them."

59

            When Git caught up to her, Silence said, "I have seen his kind before. Closed-minded townies who've never been more than a hundred paces from the spot they were born. They'd be more than happy to gawk at us or take our coin, but they'd never treat us like people. My people would fleece them to punish them for their stupidity and malice. I never approved of that, but I am beginning to change my mind. If it weren't for people like the Avertin sisters, I'd be happy to ride out of here and let the goblins burn it to the ground."
            Silence have Git a sidelong look.
            "You asked why I am staying there. Partly it's because they are good people, and they can use the money. Partly it is because I like having privacy and a room to myself. Partly it's because I do not wish to share quarters with Barthur. He and I used to travel together, when I was younger, and we were close. I want to keep his friendship, but I do not wish to share his bed -- and I don't want to give him reason to think I might."
            Git sighed, but nodded. "Civilized relationships are complicated," he agreed. "I sometimes think my father's people have the right of it when it comes to disagreements. Much time is often saved by the proper application of direct force - though to be honest, my brothers and half-brothers schemed and plotted constantly. Perhaps it is farmers that handle disagreement best; In some of the taverns I worked for in the farming communities, two men would have a disagreement, air their grievances, fight one another with bare hands, and when it was over, share a drink and be friends once more."
            Git followed Silence as she led the way back to the Avertin's, retrieved the doll, and threw it in the nearest burn-barrel, accompanied by a liberal application of lamp oil. He helped where he could, but realized that he was there primarily for moral support.
            In the Avertin's cellar, the stench was indescribable. They were forced to carry the "doll's" body out in the crate Silence had left it in, leaving Mrs. Avertin and the twins looking extremely relieved. Arika and Aneka hurried down with buckets of water, but the chances were that the stink would linger for days if not weeks.
            There didn't appear to be a good place to set fire to something so noxious in the town, so they crossed the south bridge and went a reasonable distance down the road before setting fire to the doll, crate, straw and all.
            If anything, this only made the stench worse, and they had to take care to stay out of the reeking smoke. Still, their clothes would need changing before they went anywhere else.
            When it was done, Git cleared his throat. "I was going to speak to this Madam Muvashti about the fire wand," he said, "would you care to accompany me?"
            Silence watched the doll burn with a small smile. "Certainly," she said.
            Git rubbed his nose and grimaced. "Wait," he said, "we'll need to get rid of this smell first. That's what I get for not preparing the right magics, I suppose." He shook his head. "Let's go to the 'Dragon first, and change clothes. Or we could go to the jail and see if Lent can magic away the smell for us."
            Silence agrees with Git that they need to change... again. "I'll meet you there," she said.
            Git watched Silence leave, then started to make his way to the Rusty Dragon, before realizing that he really didn't have anything left to change into. The goblins that had stolen his pack had shredded much of his other set of clothing. With a sigh, he changed course to the jail. Perhaps Lent would be able to magically clean Git's clothes (even if that meant dousing them in one of his ever-ready magical waterfalls). Failing that, perhaps he could convince the little sprite to act on his behalf in buying another set.

60

            Returning to the Avertin sisters' bakery, Silence was contrite.
            "I am sorry for leaving that thing here," she said. "I had no idea that it would stink up the place like that. We've burned it at the edge of town. I hope the wind doesn't shift."
            Mrs. Avertin smiled, patting Silence's cheek. It left a light dusting of flour on her. "Don't you worry about that, dear. I'm sure you had a good reason for it."
            "We're just glad it's gone!" one of the twins said fervently, and was promptly elbowed by her sister.
            Silence plucked at her blouse and sniffed it.
            "I reek of incinerated demon doll," she said disgustedly. "I'll need to borrow your wash tub again, please. In the meantime, maybe if I hang this outside it will air out a bit. Do you mind if I hang it behind the shop? If you think it will put off customers, I'll just toss it."
            "Behind the shop is fine," one twin said hurriedly, then added, "I'll just wash it later."
            Silence changed into the shirt she'd purchased earlier, saving the blue blouse the Avertins had given her for an outing less likely to result in the destruction of her wardrobe.
            Once re-dressed and slightly less pungent, Silence apologized again, and then asked for directions.
            "Can you tell me how to get to the shop of a Madame Mvashti? We found something when we captured the goblin chieftain, and apparently she has some expertise in that sort of thing."
            "Oh, Madame Mvashti doesn't have a shop!" Mrs. Avertin chuckled. Lowering her voice as though someone in the empty shop might overhear, she said, "Madame Mvashti is a _seer._ She's Varisian, you see. Oh, those people are always coming and going at her house on Festival Street - I'm sure you've seen it, that old manor house beside the theater? They take care of her, you see. Oh, she's seen many a winter, that one."
            One of the twins broke in, "Miss Silence, is it true what they're saying? That the goblins are angry and coming back to kill us all?"
            "Aneka!" Mrs. Avertin gasped, clapping her floury hands to her generous bosom. "You know the Heroes are going to protect us! Aren't you, dear? Oh my, you look so thin. Let me get you a roll."
            Silence accepted the roll, and ate it with gusto, since she'd not eaten breakfast.
            "The goblins have been planning to attack your town for a long time, I think," she said. "We have put a serious dent in their plans by capturing their chieftain, but we plan to go back out there once we have rested and restocked our supplies. We are hoping that we can take out enough of their leaders to make them afraid to come near Sandpoint for a very long time. We are certainly going to try."
            Aneka chewed her lip anxiously. "I hope you get them all!" Arika gave her sister a comforting hug, but she looked frightened, too.
            On hearing that Madame Mvashti is Varisian, Silence perked up a bit.
            "Varisian? Really?" she asked. "I'm Varisian. I left them a long time ago to explore the world with ... a friend. I am glad that I did, but it will be nice to see one of my own people."
            "Really?" Aneka asked with surprise. "I thought you were-" Her sister elbowed her again and she fell silent, blushing.
            "You certainly have a unique look about you," Mrs. Avertin said with a smile. Then the bell in the bakery rang, and the three hurried out to get back to work.

61

            At the jail, a bit of gnomish magic had Git smelling less like a cross between a slaughterhouse and a refuse pit.
            After a bit of milling about town trying to relocate one another, Silence and Avilyn led the group to Madame Mvashti's home. Located just by the theater as the Avertins had said, it was an ancient, decrepit manor house with scars on the lintels as though something had been hacked away with an axe.
            "Cosy, isn't it?" a loud voice said from behind them, making them start. They turned to find a woman who looked even more ancient than the house leaning on the arm of a feral-looking man clad in furs. He watched them carefully, in a manner that brought to mind a wolf - as though he might spring away or leap to the attack. She laughed, a creaky noise that didn't sound altogether amused, and it made the many bangles she wore tinkle.
            "So, the Heroes of Sandpoint come to see Madame Mvashti, eh?" She grinned and poked at Avilyn with her cane. "You're the Sarenrae girl. Firehair." She considered the paladin, then Silence for a moment, then nudged the man beside her. "Well? Go on, go on, I'm not getting any younger. Come along, youngsters." The wolfish man carefully steered her into her home, where she disappeared for a few minutes before returning to the sitting room.
            The room was dim, even with the drapes pulled back from the windows. The oil lamp the wolfman lit only served to accentuate the feeling. It was packed with furniture in the Varisian style, and knickknacks and trinkets covered every surface except for the table Madame Mvashti settled behind, setting her cane aside and smoothing her ruffled multicolored skirts.
            "Sit, sit. Now. You." She jabbed a finger at Lent, breaking into a wide smile that made the tattoos on her wrinkled cheeks bunch into new shapes. "You follow the Tender of Dreams. That is good. What dreams do you bring an old woman, hmm? Or do you come to see what the dreams bring me?"
            Lent gave the woman a very deep bow, full of respect, and also, somehow an expression of love - as if for a long-lost sister or mother. He spoke in the fluid, musical Varisian tongue, pronouncing the traditional greeting of a traveler visiting the tent of a friend. Then, for the benefit of his companions, he reverted to the common tongue.
            "I have not Dreamt of late, Mother," he said, "and it is for this reason that we come to you. Our dreams give us no guidance that we can understand, and we wish to be of help to the people of this town. Servants of the Mother of Monsters wish these people ill, and they use goblins as their tools. We are called to interpose ourselves, She whom I love requires this thing of me, as does the Dawnflower call Her daughter to the same task. These others do, for reasons of their own, accompany us." Lent gave each of his companions a look of gratitude before continuing.
            "We have battled their servants, and come away victorious to this point. If my Lady so chooses to bless us, we will continue to be so lucky. We would ask of you any guidance you might give. In addition," Lent gestured, and Git held out the mysterious wand, "if you could tell us something of this, that we might put it to use against its former owners, or trade it for something else that will help us in our tasks, we would be most grateful."
            Madame Mvashti's smile widened at hearing Lent speak her mother tongue, but it quickly turned into a scowl of concern when he mentioned Lamashtu. She listened to his explanation with her head bobbing slightly, the once-lustrous grey hair that emerged from her brightly colored kerchief brushing against the huge hoops of gold in her ears, but when Git proferred the gnarled wand, she abruptly laughed, sounding like an old rocking chair.
            "This is what you ask of me?" she exclaimed, sounding both surprised and a bit relieved. She gestured for Git to come closer with both hands, holding them out for the wand. Holding it at a distance, she examined it closely.
            While the others focused on the old Varisian woman, Silence admired the knicknacks and trinkets, peering at this one and then that one, but careful not to touch anything.
            The trinkets, like the furniture, appeared to chiefly be of Varisian make. Little carved dolls, decorated boxes and animal skulls, charms of bone and fur and feathers, a silver tea set, and more. Some appeared expensive, like the exquisite little music box sitting on a small table; the greater part of them quite common, things that might be found in any Varisian encampment, like the woven dreamcatchers hanging from the walls.
            "Ahh," Madame Mvashti croaked, setting down the wand and retrieving a silver goblet from a drawer. "Nikos, would you bring me some wine?" The feral-looking man withdrew into the house, his footsteps silent even on the creaky old boards. Madame Mvashti sucked her crooked teeth noisily until his return.
            "You must forgive that I do not offer you any," Madame Mvashti said with a smile as Nikos returned with a bottle, setting it beside her and returning to the corner to watch the party with those unsettling eyes. The old woman poured the wine into the goblet, rummaged in a drawer for a moment, then brought forth a long feather, which she proceeded to dunk into the wine, stirring it. Setting the wet feather on a nearby plate, Madame Mvashti drank the wine, smacking her lips as she picked up the wand again and peered at it.
            Her gnarled fingers ran over the knots and whorls of it. After a moment she spoke a word, and her arm erupted into fire. "This is a wand to control fire," she confirmed dryly, and the flames winked out again, leaving her skin and clothing unharmed. "I think it has enough heat left in it for more than two dozen uses." She twirled it in her fingers, then set it down on the table's polished surface before Git. "Not for you to use, I think."
            "As for this matter of guidance," she mused, "I do not know what you wish me to tell you. You go into a dangerous place, yes, but this you know. Perhaps there is a matter of history you would like me to speak of?" She spread her spotted hands modestly. "I know one thing or two about this, it is true. Maybe I lived through it, eh?" She laughed her creaky laugh again.
            Avilyn had never been in Madame Mvashti's house before. She'd heard of the woman, of course, but the seer's home was the kind of place children dared each other to run past or- for the bravest- to knock on the door and run away.
            Nualia had talked about coming here, after she'd met Delek, but if she had they'd never talked about it. And then there was the fire and her training and Avilyn didn't have time to indulge her curiosity.
            She tried not to gawk, though it was hard. Especially once Madame Mvashti began doing... whatever it was she did. Avilyn was happy to let Lent keep up the conversation. She might be touched by Sarenrae, but she felt out of her depth here in the Varisian mystic's home.
            Lent smiled at Madam Mvashti's laughter, and ducked his head briefly. "Thank you for helping with the wand, Mother. And for your offer to help us with history. What can you tell us of the Monster Queen's worshipers in these parts? or of Thistletop? Why would that ilk choose to hide there, in a rickety goblin encampment?"
            "Simply 'Madame' will do," Madame Mvashti said primly, already frowning in thought at Lent's question. "The Mother of Monsters is more a matter for Father Zantus than I," she said slowly, "but I can tell you her worship is strong here - many, many goblin tribes worship her. As for Thistletop, _there_ is a thing I can warn you about. My boys and girls," she said, nodding towards Nikos, "tell me of this place. They say the island is truly the head of a great monument of Thassilon, just as the Old Light is a great monument of old. Many laugh at Master Quink for his obsession, but he is not so wrong as they would like to think."
            She sucked her teeth for a moment, then added, "Terrible things are found where the masters of that ancient empire touched the world. Be wary, for not all are so innocent as the Old Light. If it is not just goblins who have settled on Thistletop, I would shudder to think what ancient learning cultists of Lamashtu might be after."
            Lent frowned in thought. "Then our mission is more important even than I thought," he said. "The goblins serve another, and she has others with her as well." Lent glanced at Avilyn, but did not reveal the name of the woman leading the goblins. Instead, he asked another question. "We will go again to Thistletop, Madame. Do your boys and girls know of any secret ways into the island? Ways that, perhaps the goblins might have left unguarded?"
            "There is a way," Madame Mvashti said slowly, "but it is very dangerous, and I do not know if it is guarded. They tell me that there is an underwater tunnel leading into the island on the west side, but none have ventured into it - the water's pull is strong, and I have told them to leave the ancient things of Thassilon alone. A strong swimmer might find it, and use it, but who can say where it ends?"
            Lent nodded. "I am not a strong swimmer," he said with a rueful smile, "My arms are a bit short for it. But it is good to know such a route exists, should all else fail." Lent thought for a few moments, then shrugged. "I do not know what else to ask of you, Madame. I think our task is clear. Unless any of my companions have questions?"
            As the group made ready to leave, Lent gave the old woman another bow, and spoke in the tongue of Varisia once more. <"May The Tender of Dreams bless us all, and especially this roof, and those who dwell - and dream - beneath it.">
            <"You have a sweet tongue, Little One,"> Madame Mvashti said in the same tongue with a smile. <"I hope it sees you as well in your adventures as it does at the card tables."> With that remark she let Nikos shoo them out.

62

            As they filed out of Madame Mvashti's home and Nikos closed the door behind them, Barthur tugged on Lent's arm, pulling him aside from the others. "Buy you a pint?" he asked quietly, looking uncomfortable. It was an unusual offer from the otherwise frugal dwarf.
            Silence raised an eyebrow at Barthur, but if he didn't invite her, she wasn't going to invite herself.
            Lent gave the dwarf a measuring look, but it was a brief one, and he nodded. "Friend Git," he said, "why don't you take this dagger and that flaming wand, and you, Jack, Silence and Avilyn go and see what can be traded for it. I will go with Barthur, and we can all meet back at the 'Dragon at Highsun."
            Git nodded, then looked at the women. "Will you come with me, or do you have other things to do?"
            Avilyn gave Git a small smile, no doubt intended to take the sting out of the words that followed. "Maybe you should just give me a list, Git. Our last trip didn't end very well. I can buy whatever we need and meet you back at the inn."
            Git just looked at Avilyn, his face neutral. After a few moments, he spoke.
            "No one, other than Vinder, has given me any trouble at all, Avilyn. If we were going back to his store, I would gladly give you a list. But as we're going to be trading in magic, I think it best that I come along. Besides," and here Git gave a small, tight smile, "If we're going to counter Vinder's influence on the people of this town, it's better that we be among them, showing them that we are friendly."
            Avilyn sighed. "That's the problem, Git. What if someone else insults you or raises prices on you? I'm not saying they will, but contrary to what you've seen, Vinder has friends here in town. By now lots of people have heard what has been said and some of them might decide to be unfriendly to you. Can you turn the other cheek? Can you be friendly even if people aren't friendly to you?"
            Git raised an eyebrow.
            "I was friendly and polite to Vinder, Avilyn. You were not there. By the time you arrived, Vinder had insulted us numerous times, and then demanded an apology for something we did not do." Git met Avilyn's eyes and held them. "I have survived my entire life by knowing how to read intent and out-maneuver others in social situations in which the cost of losing was death. I have been spit upon, abused, challenged, and even attacked without warning in these so-called 'civilized' lands of your people. Why? Because of my father's people. I have more experience at being 'friendly' in the face of anger and hostility than you can imagine, friend Avilyn. And I know - from painful experience - that 'friendly and agreeable' only goes so far. At some point, one must have respect for themselves." Git made a visible effort to reduce his intensity.
            "In short, friend Avilyn, yes. I can be friendly even when others are not. Rudeness I can tolerate. Abuse, I will not."
            Avilyn nodded slowly. "You're right. I wasn't there. Alright." She smiled at Git. "I'm sorry, then. I hadn't realized Vinder had been so over the line. I'll be happy to go with you to pick up the rest of our things."
            Git nodded. "Very well. Let us go first to see what Master Voon has to say about our wand now that we know more of its power - and what he may be willing to give for the magical dagger."

63

            When Silence returned to speak with her alone, the old woman did not seem terribly surprised. She had moved from her table to an overstuffed couch with pillows in bright colors, and patted the spot next to her. Nikos was nowhere in sight. <"You seem lonely, child. Come, sit with me and talk for a while."> She held out her gnarled old hands for Silence's.
            Time seemed unimportant in Madame Mvashti's candlelit parlor, and Silence spoke with her at some length of nothing of consequence - who they might know in common (the Madame seemed to know everyone), their families and lives (Madame Mvashti had been old when Sandpoint was founded, and knew innumerable stories of Varisians great and lesser-known), and what wisdom the ancient woman could impart.
            <"Don't be afraid to run,"> were her parting words. <"Even the brave must run, sometimes.">

64

            Barthur led Lent in a roundabout way, likely unintentionally, to Cracktooth's Tavern, which turned out to be behind the big theater building. There a thuggish-looking man welcomed them, bringing them their promised beer and retreating to behind the bar at the not-very-subtle look Barthur gave him. The tavern was near-barren at this hour, the large stage empty, and Barthur was uncharacteristically quiet when he spoke.
            "Ach, what's the point in lyin' to myself? The girl I came here to find is gone. She disappeared in them catacombs - or maybe it was earlier, an' I just didn't want to see it." He took a draught of his beer and wiped the foam from his beard morosely. "You're a smart feller. You tell me. Do I have any chance with her? Any chance at all?"
            Lent wasn't incredibly surprised by this conversation. In fact, he'd been expecting something like it. Barthur's irritability with the townsfolk the previous day had likely been fueled as much by his insecurity as his dislike of crowds. The little gnome took a deep pull of his beer while he considered his options. In the end, as he knew he would, Lent decided on the truth.
            "I don't know that anyone 'has a chance' with that young woman just now, my friend." Lent shook his head. "She has changed her name from 'Melody' to 'Silence' for a reason. She's not sure yet of who she is, I think, but for now, she does not wish to be 'Melody.' I'm afraid that if you try to force her to be such, you will only drive her further away."

65

            Avilyn was already smiling when she opened the door into Savah's. As the arms- and armor dealer had said, she'd been drooling over the beautiful armor from almost the day she'd opened the crate from Magnimar. She'd ordered the masterwork armor to display and draw people into the shop as much as possibly sell at some point in the future - much as she had traded them their weapons for the beautiful ranseur they had found beneath the town. The weapon now held a prominent position next to Vansaya, the darkwood-and-ivory crossbow mounted behind Savah's counter... along with something new.
            The armor Avilyn had come for was gorgeous work. Bands of steel as light as her chainmail and rode more lightly on her shoulders. It was strong as a breastplate and absolutely beautiful. She was sure it was steel, but it looked like polished bronze in some light with an almost luminous golden sheen, almost green in other light, like old brass. The man who made it was an artist- the suit looked like it had been formed out of overlapping leaves. Helmet, gauntlets, greaves, and chain backing- it was a wearable work of art and she had wanted to wear it since her first glance.
            So she would have laughed if anyone had told her that anything else could have caught her eye when she walked into Savah's Armory to take ownership of that beautiful suit. But she literally stopped in her tracks when she saw the new sword mounted in the prime space behind and above the counter where Savah greeted her customers.
            The scabbard must have been crafted by a devotee of Sarenrae. The leather wrapping was dyed sky blue and covered with worked and white-painted clouds, the end cap bright brass surrounded by a tooled and painted yellow sun, the lower metal fitting bright brass shaped into the four armed angel Thalachos, and the scabbard mouth the Dawnflower herself, her arms outstretched. It took Avilyn's breath.
            It was several seconds before Avilyn noticed the hilt of the weapon itself, the hilt was a polished brass angel, bound with white silk cord and with outstretched wings for a guard. It was hard to tell from the door, but the size of it became clear as Avilyn got closer. The sword was huge- a two hander, at least. And a scimitar, or at least visibly curved.
            Avilyn stared at Savah with a grin on her face and pointed at the oversized scimitar. "I'll take it."
            Savah's brows rose, but she didn't question Avilyn. No one who knew her ever questioned that she told the truth, so if she thought she could pay for something, obviously she could. "Somehow I thought it would catch your eye," Savah chuckled. Moving to unstrap it from the wall, she said, "First Master Hammerstrong's armor, and now Master Sinayla's sword as well? Adventuring with the Heroes must be paying off! Maybe I ought to sell this old cutlery shop and see what I can find in the hinterlands!" She laughed, tossing her cap of red hair back. Avilyn knew she loved this "old cutlery shop," and had gone to great lengths to keep it from burning to the ground during the Late Unpleasantness.
            Avilyn could hardly put the armor and sword on while wearing her dress, but it was a refined torture to watch Savah take them down and bundle them up for transport back to Avilyn's tiny room at the cathedral. When she finally picked them up, they hardly seemed to weigh a thing in her eager hands.
            "Promise me you'll come back and let me see you with them before you go anywhere!" Savah called after her, putting Jack's battered old longsword in a rack with other, similarly used swords.

66

            They met again at the Rusty Dragon, not too long after the cathedral bells tolled noon. Trades and purchases completed (not without having to brave Vinder's store again), they divided up their goods in their room, where greedy eyes wouldn't see the gold they divided among them.
            Silence brushed the coins with her fingertips. "So much? Can this be correct? How much of this comes from the townspeople?"
            Git looked up from where he was organizing his scrolls in the leather keeper designed for such things. "What do you mean," he asked, "are you asking if we took this from the townsfolk?" He shook his head, "This is what the items we brought back from the goblins and the catacombs were worth. We are not enriching ourselves, except in the equipment we will need to defeat our foes. And if we do that, well," the half-orc shrugged, "my father's people are not the only ones who say 'to the victor go the spoils.'"
            "What of the money the sheriff gave us? Is that included here? Or have we already spent that?"
            "This is everything," Git said, "Including what the Mayor gave us, I suppose." There were more than five hundred coins in the pile, gold and silver shining under Silence's touch. "There would be more, had we not had to pay Vinder's inflated prices."

The Second Cycle