Chapter 13 Sweet Smoke

Year of Wrath 1231, Season of Harvest, D.83, Knoll

From the side of Chief Yorm, we watched as Ilgor commenced the ritual to pass off to her replacement. The same as when Yorm had given Ilgor command, the clan gathered around to watch as the words were given. The Chief gave her command to Hob, he was given a new knife to commemorate the transfer. A plain blade, strong, a cup guard over the fingers, thing barely fit to be a shortsword. 

     Though this was a fairly uncommon ritual. Ilgor had been given the title from the former leader after he died from his age. The Raid Leaders were usually given the role after the previous one had died in the line of duty. The Chief was supposed to be the one to do this, though it wasn’t unheard of to have the priestess do it. It seemed more insulting this way, to have her give away her own command like that. 

     She winced as Hob came up from the kneeling position before her, the large spiderwebbed scar across his face from their fight hadn’t healed well. She touched his face gently with the tips of her fingers, and a sad smile crossed her face. To everyone’s surprise, Hob had grabbed her and pulled her into a tight hug and whispered something to her. 

     Yorm, disliking that this wasn’t supposed to be part of the ritual, raised his fist to point at him. “Hob, What did you just tell her? Do not disrupt the ritual.” The bark of an order left a bitter taste in my mouth, evidently in more than a few as the angry glares were directed at him, not Hob.

     “Are you scared of her?” I said softly, just audible enough for no one else to hear.

     “Not now, Knoll,” he growled. Glancing back at me, Cori smirked from Yorm’s other side. 

     “She was nothing but a benefit and you got cold feet.” Not being done with this yet.

     “Knoll, watch your tone.” Turning to me, trying to stare me down.

     He wouldn't try anything here, a lifetime of knowing the man, that was certain. At least not in front of the family, though he would try. All he was trying to do was puff his chest and look like he was in control. Staring him down as well, not hiding my hand on the handle of my axe. “Coward”.

     The crowd had their attention captured by Hob, dissipating the tension in the air. “I told her, I would try to follow her example.” Cori and Ghet had side-eyed from each other at that comment. We were thinking the same thing, that boy just lied to everyone’s face. Would he really try to lead the raiders like she did? Notorious temper and short sighted fighter he was, it was after all, how he earned that scar on his face. 

But, to his credit, Hob accepted the role, and there was no animosity between him and Ilgor. He had turned back to her, and spoke “Mother” She still wasn’t used to being addressed like that, she flushed a bit at the honorific “I will lead by your example and bring the family prosperity and safety.”

They finished the ceremony, Hob accepting his new role. It was strange to see Hob like this with Illy, for as far as everyone in the Clan knew, they had not reconciled their issues. But, his actions here did soothe more than a few nerves, even if it was unspoken. She couldn’t keep the Family from noticing her eye twitch at Hob’s final part in the ceremony. “Mother, I will lead by your example and bring the family prosperity and safety.” We all knew she in particular wasn’t comfortable with being the new Mother yet. I couldn’t blame her, Kari’s health had been declining since the dream ceremony. But, that wasn’t the part Yorm, nor I noticed.

     Yorm scowled, the saying was supposed to be “I will lead by your example, Chief, and bring the family prosperity and glory as Bhal wills it.” Apparently everyone here wanted to be insubordinate today and chuckled to myself. Yorm’s eyes shot daggers at me.

     Illy and Mother had raised their hands together and offered Hob a prayer of strength and wisdom. The soft glow from their hands permeated through Hob as they touched the tips of their fingertips on his forehead. The ritual was for all intents and purposes complete, a few of the raiders came up to the small group and patted Hob on the back. Who looked wholeheartedly unconvinced that he had earned this, flicking his eyes back to the two Priestesses.

     Yorm rose from his seat at the head of the ceremony, rage in his eyes as he turned to look at me. I stared back, calmly and defiantly. Nodding his head off to the side. I shrugged and started walking to the ‘Tavern’. I wanted to force Yorm to follow me, not the other way around as he would have liked. I got my confirmation when I heard his footsteps behind me. 

     In days past, we built the Tavern, we thought it was a nice touch after a few more difficult raids. Yorm and I spent weeks hunting down furniture that actually fit us. Quickly filling our makeshift bar with bottles and camaraderie. We walked down to the southern cave, the silence hanging over the short jaunt like the calm before the storm. Pushing past the cloth that served as the door to the Tavern and sat down at my usual spot behind one of the tables. Popped the cork off a bottle, and took a deep drink when Yorm walked in, axe in hand. 

     Taking in the darkened cave, taking a deep breath of moist earthy air. “Do you really want to fight so badly?” He asked.

     Taking another deep drink of the fire in the bottle. “Do you really think that we wouldn’t see what you did?” I spat back at him. The corners of my mouth twitched up when he dipped the head of his weapon imperceptibly, someone with less experience would have missed it. “Did you really think that we didn’t know that you have been trying to convince Mother to take Ilgor as her acolyte so she wouldn’t be able to challenge you?” 

     “I” He began, as he swung the axe to rest against his shoulder “...Don’t know what” I didn’t let him finish before I flipped the table over and charged him. Wouldn’t let him have the time to react by the time I belted him, knocking one of his teeth loose.

     “Do you realize what you have done?!” I roared at him. “Do you think that you have the clan’s interest at heart? Do you really believe that you are not making a selfish power grab?” I lifted him up by his vest. He spat out a bit of blood off to the side.

“She was nothing but a godsend, Yorm, and you could only think that she was more successful than you. She hasn’t lost a single raider, she always comes back with something for the family. She was beginning to get the City off our backs” I dropped him back on the ground with a hard thump and stalked back to my chair. 

     “Maybe you're right.” He grunted, as he lifted himself back off the ground. “But, I still think she is going to be a good fit for Priestess. Call it what you want, but I still think Hob is also going to bring us glory.” He knew as well as I did, if I kept this fight going much longer, it could be interpreted as an actual challenge for taking his title.

     “Cut the shit Yorm. Glory my ass, Bhal be damned. You want the glory so you can fight by his side in the next life. Just admit that you want to fight and relish the chance to fight the city and prove yourself.” I tossed a bottle to him.

     Catching it, he only stared pensively at it for a long while. We had known each other since we were boys, we both have seen our share of blood and glory. I didn’t want it anymore, my wife shouldn’t have to worry about me coming home. None of the husbands, wifes, sons and daughters should have to. I want only to see the family safe now, but this jackass took down the most promising prospect to make that happen. My old friend seemed to make less and less sense to me as time went on.

     The glory seeker behind his aged face. An old man that hadn’t faced the truth that he wasn’t a young anymore. “What’s so wrong with trying to stick to tradition? We’ve been doing this for generation after generation. It has worked for this long, so why shouldn’t we keep doing it? Why should I let Ilgor change our fighters to be more… submissive?” He huffed as he heaved the table back upright and sat down, half of it falling back to the ground.

     “We are not having this argument again.” I huffed and continued annoyed, as I picked the broken table piece up and jammed it back into place. “besides all the dead brothers and sisters, do you really think her method of limiting out risk is a worse option? The constant threat of retaliation, do I need to remind you of your reaction when Ghet had an entire raiding party killed?!”

I wasn’t done, I bared down on Yorm, hands shaking with barely enough control. “Dozens of Orphans! For Bhal’s sake, Yorm! They grew up and named themselves that! They took that pain and made it an identity, and you don’t see an issue with that!?” Forcing myself to sit back down, downing the rest of the bottle on the table. “Yeah, great traditions here Chief. Try and change my mind.” The sarcasm dripping like venom.

He only corked the bottle and downed half of it. Pushing, I added “You really going to overlook Hob basically saying he would follow Ilgor and not you?” He didn’t say anything, the sound of his teeth grinding answered for me. “Seems to me that she is still a leader, and not just our new Mother.”

     Exasperated, he breathed out “For fucks sake Knoll, can you just drop it.”

***

Ilgor

Hob had refused every offer by Mother Kari and I to heal his scar, only allowing us to close his wounds without Kari’s prayers. He wouldn’t tell me why, though I knew that he told Kari everything. To her credit, she wouldn’t tell me what he said, only that whenever I brought it up she had a prideful smile on her face. “In due time, Illy.” Was all she ever told me. Though as I stared at his scar, I didn’t think I hit him that hard. The white skin contrasting with his dark green only made it far more obvious, more real. 

     The ritual was mostly what I was expecting, with a few exceptions that made the whole ceremony feel bastardized. Walked me through the chapter in our holy books, but she did admit that it was a little odd that the Chief made me do the ritual instead of himself. She had said that it was distasteful of him to make me give my own role away like that, she tisked when she told me about it.

     More shocked that Hob had hugged me and said he would still follow my orders. I tried to tell him that I wouldn’t be giving him orders anymore and that if he wanted to talk to come and find me and offer my opinion in any matter. 

     He had only repeated himself as Chief rose to his feet and barked at us, “I think I understand what you were trying to beat into my thick head, something just seems to me like I should follow you. I feel it here” He lied when he told the Chief what he said. As what he just told me dawned finally on me, the conversation that me and Ghet had rang through my ears.

     “You know Hob, if you wanted to confess, you can do it better” I whispered to him as the ceremony concluded with Hob accepting the Raid Leader title. “I’m kidding Hob, but I do appreciate it, you’ll do great as long as you actually go scouting and try to spare as many people as you can.”

“If I tried any harder you’d think I was serious.” That smirk faded as the others swarmed him, clapping him on the back. I missed the look he gave Kari and I as I turned to face where Yorm and Knoll had been. 

     Walking down to the tavern and didn't have to wonder if anyone was there. I could hear the argument between Knoll and the Chief from a ways off. Nothing like the time I tried to eavesdrop on Yorm and Kari before.  A few others were standing outside, waiting for the heat to die down. Their expressions turned to stone as they noticed me. 

     They all nodded at me and the Mother title came out of more than a few of their mouths. It didn’t ring true with me, don’t know if it ever would. Maybe I’d try and get them to not do that and use my name instead, be damned with that tradition. I noticed that Ghet was standing next to the cloth doorway halfway inside, he gave me a curious look. 

     “What?” I asked him. The argument had gone quiet for a moment, almost as if they heard me walking up, but I knew they hadn’t. Their conversation started back up quickly enough, though conversation was a bit generous. It wasn’t as if I was trying to be sneaky, the rocky part of the beach wouldn’t let you do that well. 

     “They are arguing about you again. The Chief is really getting it handed to him. So much for that front of respect and rank he tries to keep up.” He said in a quiet whisper so that the two inside wouldn’t hear him, he had spoken out against the way things were before. But, he never did it in front of the others of the Family before, as everyone in this small crowd nodded.

     Shaking my head, I walked past everyone else and pushed the cloth aside. It was dark inside, Knoll hadn’t lit the few lanterns that were on the tables yet. Though the smell of booze and grease filled the air, it was nostalgic. It had been that way since the first week they had built the place, the shouting match between the two died immediately. 

     “Well hi Knoll, Father.” I gave the Chief a small bow “If it isn’t me, the problem.” I tried to sound disarming, but I don’t think it worked well. Knoll grinned, the Chief only turned back to his bottle. 

     “So, just so you know, you had quite the audience.” I told them, picking my way toward the table. 

     “What?” The Chief rose knocking his chair back, scowl on his face in the dim light, “Who's out there?!” He roared to the small crowd outside the cloth door. A few moments later, and a few more shadows showing up on the cloth backdrop, Ghet, and the others walked in. “How long were you all listening?” 

     “Long enough” Ghet said to him as he pulled up a chair and Knoll handed him a bottle. “Besides, it’s not like you told everyone you wanted a private conversation after you stormed off to follow Knoll with that axe in hand.” He wasn’t being subtle today.

     Flustered and obviously annoyed at his conversation being heard by everyone, he left. The boards creaked under his weight as the others parted to stay out of his way. Ghet lit the lanterns in the room and paused as he noticed the cracked table. Looking over at Knoll, who only grinned and shrugged, the blood on his knuckles plain as day.

     “You know Knoll, you're the only one who gets away with a fight with him.” He sighed and started packing a small amount of tobacco in the pipe he had in his bag. The others took up chairs and sat at the tables inside the room, the atmosphere turning much warmer than it just was. Ghet lit his pipe with the lantern and took a few puffs. 

“I would hope so, I’ve been the closest thing to a real brother he has ever had.” Knoll grunted. “Ballsy today aren’t you old man.”

     “You do realize we can see the cracks forming here right? Are you planning on trying to become Chief?” There was an uncomfortable silence in the room now. Ghet puffed a few more times, the sweet smell of the smoke filling the room. “Besides, I think everyone here knows who we would like to see as Chief.” I didn’t get what they were saying as I took my seat at their table.

     “No, I’m not, I’m only angry with the situation.” He said. He looked over at me and stared in my eyes for a few moments. “I don’t like that he took a promising raider out of command. I don’t like that he wants to follow the same bloody path he always has.”  He rubbed his eyes, only now I noticed how tired he looked. “I am worried he’s going to do something damned foolish and get the City’s attention. He is worried about you Ilgor.” 

     He fished another pipe out from a shelf behind him and tossed it to me. Ghet not missing a step, handed me a bit of his tobacco. “Worried about what? I thought he was just annoyed at his own raids not yielding as much as he would have liked?” I said as I took a few draws from the now lit pipe. “Besides”, I continued “he’s never been outright angry with me. He has always been as he’s been with me, even after I became a Raid Leader. Stern, overbearing, but he’s always been fair with me.”

     “To your face, yes” Ghet barked out as dourly as Knoll looked, “Ilgor, you wouldn’t have ever been shown what he’s really like. He puts up a decent front when he’s in front of everyone, but…” a few of the others piped up.

     “Bullheaded”

     “Angry”

     “Glory seeker”

     Were a few of the things that came out of everyone’s mouths. Though it was followed up with a thorough round of laughing at the Chief’s expense. “I didn’t know you all had such a… unique opinion about him.” I said letting the smoke out of my mouth as I talked. 

     Ghet answered as Knoll opened his mouth. “You have to understand that everyone here, was or is under the Chief’s direct command. We’ve been doing this for a long time. After a while, the killing, the raiding, the constant worry. Well,” He accented his words with a flourish of his pipe in my direction “It gets old. We’re old. Though, I am happy that we can come and talk to you about old memories now. They eat at you, over time anyway. But, do you really think that Kari picked you to be a Priestess by coincidence? Cori would have made a great priestess too, she’s more faithful than you to the tenets. Yet, you were chosen after you had proven yourself as a Raid Leader, whereas Cori is still just a Raider.” They all nodded in agreement.

He continued “And then the Chief, out of nowhere, makes you, a young girl, a raid leader.” He punctuated each word with a tap of his pipe.  “There were talks about you showing promise because you were always popular growing up. I guess he figured that no one would really have a problem listening to you. But, he isn’t subtle either. You are only letting your feelings cloud the situation around you.”

Ghet continued, "What I think he, us” he amended slightly “weren’t expecting, was that you’d actually be doing something different, Ilgor. I don’t think you realize just how refreshing it was for us to see a different style of command, or one that had very little bloodshed involved. One that had us planning far more than fighting.” 

     I reached over and grabbed one of the bottles in the middle of the table, uncorked it, and drank. “I didn’t think it would be such a problem. I only wanted to keep the boys out of harm's way. I figured the best way to do that was quick decisive strikes and not engaging in much actual combat. You don’t hunt hogs with daggers and all that.”

     “You are right” Cori’s voice came through the cave and we all turned to look at her walking in. “I honestly don’t know a better way than what you were doing.” She said as she sat next to Knoll. 

     I gestured with my hand and spoke again, tapping the ash out of the pipe. “Aside from doing what humans do, I thought it was best. After all my scouting in the beginning, their ways seemed better.”

     “Do what humans do?” One of the others asked, the attention of the entire tavern on our conversation.

     “Farming, trading, diplomacy.” I said frankly.

     “Never gunna happen,” Ghet sneered. “Not with Yorm being such a traditionalist.”

     “What about Mother? Wouldn’t she like to see more of the family safe and hale?” I asked, really wishing that everyone would be just a bit more optimistic.

     “She’s almost as bad, yeah she’s more sympathetic. But, Bhal is her first priority. You know how she gets when she gets talking about the next life. ‘To fight alongside the Great Father, we must live as we will in the next life’” Cori said, mimicking Mother’s lecturing tone, getting a laugh out of the group. “It doesn’t help that she's gotten ill since the ceremony. You really took a lot out of her. Well everyone really.”

     “I’m beginning to see that the more she teaches me” I chuckled out. “Well what can we do about it, it’s not like we can change their minds.”

     Everyone looked at me, an awkward silence hung in the air again, flushing with everyone's eyes on me. Knoll broke the silence leaning in, resting his elbows on the table. Folding his hands together, his violet eyes boring into me “What can we do about it, indeed.”

     There was a lot of glancing around at one another as I said. “No, they are still family. We all are. We are not doing what you are thinking.” Finally realizing what they were hinting at earlier. I wouldn’t kill Chief to take his role, I couldn’t.

     A pause for what felt like an hour. He closed his eyes and relaxed back into his previous position. Knoll sighed heavily, and spoke with a sense of respect I wouldn't have thought to get from him “Very well Mother, but, give it time. Maybe you can see what we can see eventually.” 

     I relit my pipe and filled the table with smoke as I let the silence hang there. “Are your nightmares getting any better?” Ghet asked me with a glance at Cori.

     The question, while good in intention, slapped my mind. I was there again, back on that field. That giant staring through me. Peering deep into my soul, see through all my self made lies, all my thoughts, my ideas. Saw through that warrior I was on that battlefield, and to the young naive girl.  My hands started to shake as I couldn't stop myself. I remembered that corpse that talked and followed me around. Those kind strangers in the field around the campfire. The way the shadows danced across their faces, that woman. That face, her all encompassing eyes. She could have been my mother. 

The table beneath my hands started growing frost. I started as someone put their hand over mine, pulling me back out of my mind. Ghet’s thin fingers clasping mine “Forget I asked”. Gazing back down at the bottle in my hand, everyone exchanged a sad look.

     “I think I need some air for a while,” I said abruptly, walking out of the tavern. 

     Only wanting to walk, to clear my mind of the dreams. I was getting a bit better at it, though whenever someone tried talking to me about it. Well, it just never goes well. “Maybe I should talk to myself about it. Maybe that would help at least a little. Maybe words spoken out loud are better than the words in my head.” I told myself, voice shaking. Crossing over the green creek that divided our territory with where Caleb’s workshop was.

     “No, I don’t really feel like talking to someone else right now.” The tall grass brushing against my thighs, not used to this robe that Mother had given to me. Well, she called it a robe anyway. The thing was thin, accentuating my figure a bit too much. Having chosen to wear another sash I made with Caleb around my waist and a hood so the material would lift off my chest more. The open sides along the robe were also a bit annoying, making walking a lot easier, showing quite a bit off in the process. 

     “Why did she give me this? I know she said it’s traditional until we can make our own staff, but still… Does it have to be so awkward?” Asking the air around me. The only response was a wren singing back at me for startling it. 

     I was finally past the workshop field, walking through the woods that surrounded it. Enjoying the relative quiet here, only the soft breeze through the canopy and the faint bird song in the distance. Enjoyed the feeling of the soft cool earth under my feet, the motion of walking helping calm me down a little more. The light filtering through the leaves, the shifting shadows, making it feel safe and calm. Not realizing that I was meditating as I walked, ears open listening to the world around me. The trance was nice.

     That woman's face swam in my vision again, her family dead at my command, breaking my trance. I stared, “Always creeps up on me when I’m not expecting it.” Sighing, I kept walking over another small cliff face encrusted in a thick carpet of bright green moss. The moist air from the bay always got stuck here, made this part of the forest humid at all times of the year.

     “I’m not sure, I just don’t know what I saw. I just don’t understand.” Crawling over the top of the cliff face, finding myself on the outskirts of the Outer Fields of the City. The harvest of the wheat had long since been over, though the fields were pockmarked with squash and pumpkins. 

     “I don’t understand why Mother hasn’t given me straight answers. Whenever I ask about the blessing, she doesn’t want to talk about it. Kari never wants to talk about what the ceremony was actually for. She only mentioned that only one can have the blessing, like it's an actual thing. But she never tells me.” Reaching up to a low hanging branch and pulling a withered apple off the tree and taking a bite out of it. “I don't get why she is always skittish when I talk about the shadows in my dreams, or about those four other people. Or even the Giant.” 

     The earth gave way to a hard beaten path, realizing that I was making my way to the city. Dashing behind a building and looking around, I spotted an old fire pit and scooped out a handful of ash. There was a horse trough not too far away on the other side of the farm. Trying to stay in the taller grass, out of sight of the windows on the house. It had just enough water in it for me to make a paste with the ash. Painting my skin with it the same way I did whenever I was near the city to match the gray skin tones of the Gnomes. 

     Flipping the hood up and tucking my ears down. Adjusting the sash so that it would cover my legs more when I walked, I started down the path again. 

     “Why do I see fire in my dreams? Why do I see Bhal standing on a mountain of dead? I thought he was supposed to be a benevolent father, at least that's what Mother keeps telling me.” Whispering to myself as I entered the dockside district of the City. Letting my mind wander, taking in the sights of the humans, Dwarves and Gnomes milling about on the slick portside. 

     Someone was selling a sweet smelling tobacco on a market stall sitting over the water. I walked over and pulled a silver coin out of a hidden pocket under the sash. The merchant looked at it, weighed it on a scale and dropped a fluid on it. Nothing happened when he did that. He looked back down at me and asked “Which kind would you like?”

I pointed at a stack of leaves, ones that smelled richly of spices and cinnamon. “Ah, a fan of Corojo? An aromatic leaf it is” He grabbed a small box and began putting the leaves in it, gently folding them so they wouldn’t break. Far more than I thought one coin was worth, but then again. Money didn’t mean much to me. He handed it over and asked if I knew how to light them.

     “What do you mean?” I answered quizzically.

     “Well I can see the pipe sticking out of your strange belt.” Looking down at the sash and realizing I got it caught there while adjusting. Somehow it hadn’t fallen out. “You just bought leaves meant for cigars, if you aren’t planning on rolling your own, I can show you how to do it with your pipe.”

     “I… would appreciate that.” Not knowing what a cigar was, but I didn’t want to admit that here, I never knew what humans would find strange. Make myself a target of suspicion I would not. 

     He quickly took out his own, cutting a strip of the leaf off and coiled it tightly into his pipe. He “Toasted” the leaf in his pipe. Then a small flame on his finger tip appeared and lit it properly. “And that's how it’s done!” He smiled widely at me. “You know, I’ve never seen a Gnome with such pretty eyes. I didn’t know your peoples eyes could be purple.”

     “I’m not from the Island, I come from the Northern Wastes. My mother had the same eyes as me.” I lied. Months ago I had overheard some group of Gnomes talking about some Ilse named Mhuzelt, they called it their homeland.

     “Makes sense. The compliment stands” He waved at me as I walked toward the city gate. A slight nervousness took hold walking past the gate house. As long as the guards didn’t pay attention to me, I was in the clear. 

     Deciding to try and act casual as I walked past, by lighting my pipe the way the merchant had showed me. Though, it was a little odd being able to make fire like that. Caleb explaining that magic worked off intent and ability did help quite a bit as well. Still burnt my finger though, dipping my head down, and walked past the guards while the sweet smell of smoke filled my nose.

     I don’t remember how long I walked around the city, it felt like hours. Taking a stroll through the market square, looking at what was on offer. A cacophony of items on display. Hundreds of different things, each to my eyes, more interesting than the next. “I don’t see why we can’t do this Chief. This seems so much less risky than stealing it all from everyone. Besides, these people have families to feed too” I thought to myself. 

     I had to stop talking out loud in the city quickly after more than one person stopped and responded. A mage commenting on religious rituals holding quite a bit of power after I accidentally mentioned the transfer of the blessing out loud. He was kind as he stopped to ask me more about it. I spun it to be more Gnomish, but he did speak more about certain abilities and powers being moved from one body to the next. That the gods were fickle things, Xelex was fond of balancing abilities in his servants for such things.

     Or a supposed diplomat wanting to know more information as the commentary I let slip from the tavern earlier as I sat cross legged on a balcony railing talking to myself. We did have a nice discussion, though I switched topics. The diplomat ended up giving me a crash course in local history, as he picked up that I didn’t know much. He told me about the recent threats appearing out east in some Lamia Outpost, whatever that was supposed to mean. He told me about the Captain of the Guard also being some Chancellor to the city, and the King. Lucas Berthelot, a kind man fond of showering this city in new ways to make his citizen’s lives easier. 

     I found myself walking down a strange part of the city after a short while. Buildings made in dozens of different styles, hundreds of different materials. Every last surface was covered in paint, tiles and carvings. Visually it was enthralling. The bright and vibrant colors directing my sight to seek out new wonders. I heard soft music behind every doorway, beautiful singing on every corner. I moved on after my hood almost slipped off after someone brushed past me in a hurry to go the other direction.

     The sun had set long ago and the city was filled with a golden light as the rays crested over the city walls and the tops of buildings. Roving crews of city watch were going around lighting the decorative metal lanterns that hung on every street at about a forty pace distance between each individual one. Turning knobs on to let some odorless gas flow out before some arcane bolt of electricity ignited it. Steam began to flow out of grates I hadn’t noticed before on every street as the lights inside the buildings added a welcoming glow to the cobblestones. 

     “This place is wonderful, it's full of life. I wonder how we could do this? Maybe someday we could, maybe we could build up our little village like this.” Stopping and pausing for a moment, letting my ears relax, they were starting to make me look like a hunchback the way they kept tensing to listen to the world around me. “Huh, it’s been a while since I thought about the dreams.” I waited, expecting something to come to mind to hurdle me back to the nightmares again. But, nothing did, a wide grin cracked my face. “I think I might have to come here more often.”

     I wandered to the sound of a rhythmic hammer strike. I knew the sound well, this was a forge like Caleb had. Climbing over the wall around the workshop, the gates had been locked for the night. The gate itself was enthralling, an infinitely spiraling design of fine lacework. I didn’t know someone could do that with metal, curious to watch who was working there.

     There was a slight pause as I fell lightly into the courtyard, just the slightest delay in the hammer strikes that made me think the person had spotted me. But, the beats picked back up, in fact, the hammer strikes seemed to change slightly almost as if following the beat of a song.

     The smith had one side of their face burned away, they had the ashen skin of a Gnome. But, something wasn’t right. All the Gnomes I saw had long spindly arms and narrow shoulders, this smith had the bulk and inborn strength of a Dwarf. 

     Noticing what the smith was working on. The forge wasn’t lit, instead bathing the metal in a constant flow of fire from their hammer and hands. The metal was a large sheet with an incomprehensible amount of symbols carved into it. A low glow suffusing through the material, it reminded me of the soft glow that came off of some of Caleb’s work. “I don’t think that glow is coming from the heat. Is the smith an artificer like him?” 

     The smith flicked their eyes up and looked directly at me. At least I thought they did, because they only went back to hammering on the metal and spreading it out to the beat of a foreign song. The shower of sparks illuminated the courtyard, climbing out from the crate I was hiding behind and climbing my way to the rooftop of the workshop. Figuring the smith wouldn’t look up, if they looked up at all. Only the smith flicked their eyes back up at me again, directly into my eyes. “Would you like to hear the song I’m belting out?” The smith asked me. Their voice was oddly pitched in a way that I couldn’t tell if they were a man or a woman. Startled enough that I lost my grip on the rooftop and fell back down. 

“So I take it you didn’t think I could see you? Well the goggles I’m wearing show me nearby heart beats. You really couldn’t hide from me if you wanted to. So back to the question, would you like some music?” The smith asked me again.

     “Why do you want to play me music after I just snuck in here?” I asked from the sitting position rubbing my back. The odd symbols on every surface glowed brightly as I spoke.

     “What? What language is that? It’s not Calphiti, not Mistwalker, or the dialect from the swamps along Huron… I love it! It sounds like a warbling bird!” The smith put the hammer down and walked over to me, I hadn’t realized I spoke in my native language.

     The smith offered a hand to me and pulled me up. But, then abruptly pulled my hood down revealing my ears to the smith to see. I panicked, and tried to bolt, but the smith’s iron grip wouldn’t allow me to. “Please I’ll leave, I won’t come back. I promise, please just let me go. I don’t mean any harm.” My voice cracked using Common this time, as I tried helplessly to get out of the smith's grip. The glow brightened in the smith’s eyes as everything glowed brightly once again.

     “Oh I know that, I just don’t want you to leave before you hear the song I was hammering out.” My ears folded back on themselves, a truly perplexed look on my face as my mouth fell open. The smith cackled maniacally, “I have never met a Goblin before, I’m curious. I don’t really care what you are, I just don’t care as long as whatever I’m talking to can understand and reciprocate. Besides, I am also curious as to why your voice is infused with magic like that. That little trick you are doing by trying to grab my attention is quite unique.”

     I slackened in the smith’s grip, baffled. Was this person okay? Were they a bit unhinged? No one had this reaction to a goblin, not in this city anyway. “Alright, let's play your song. But…” I told the smith. 

     The smith let me go and walked back over to the forge and lit it with a blast of fire. The smith then walked over to a small device and said to it “Please bring out those bards from earlier”, a crackling sound came from the device. “Yes, Forgemaster, where are you?”

“The usual place.” The Forgemaster turned their gaze to me and offered me a seat. Cautiously taking up the offer and sat down, enjoying the heat from the fires in the now cool night air. “My name is Khamere, What is yours?”

     “Ilgor” I answered, I looked around quickly “Someone is going to see me here besides you?” 

     “Yes, and this is my Forgehouse. What I do here is my business alone. No one has the right to question who I bring here, if that is your concern.” My mind was put slightly at ease at that. “You seem to be accustomed to a forge, the way you were watching me work. I didn't think the Goblins could even work metal, can you?”

     “Me, yes, the rest of my people, only a few others.” I answered, resting my elbows on my knees.

     “My my my dodging the question as to how” Khamere laughed again. “You have someone teaching you?” 

     There was long silence, I didn’t want to tell the smith about Celeb, he certainly made it apparent that he wasn’t wanted in the city at least. However, the smith offered a plate of food to me seemingly out of nowhere. “How?” I stammered, not seeing where it came from. “Where?”

     The smith pushed a button on the side of the forge’s hull, a display popping up that had two options. Guest, and Forgettables. Pushing the button again, a plate of food popped into existence. “I used the Wayfares magic to make a teleporter of pre-made food to the workshop. The kitchen staff for the workshop prepare all this in the mornings and then gets divvied out throughout the day.”

     “Thank you, it is appreciated.” I told the smith. “What is a Wayfare?”

     “A strange type of Caster who uses portals to move about reality.” The smith said it with such an air of casualness, that I almost didn’t catch their next words. “So where did you learn to speak common? And about who is teaching you to work a forge?” I heard a door open from on the other side of the workshop and three richly clothed bards came out. One with a strange instrument that vaguely resembled a keyboard on a piano. Another with a brass bound drum, and the final with a dark lacquered guitar. 

     All three stopped when they saw me. One tried to speak, but the smith cut them off with a single raised finger. “Do not question it, do not bring it up again.” Khamere turned back to me and made a motion for the bards to start playing something. “So where did you learn to speak common?”

     “I learned it from listening in on travelers, and watching what the children were learning.” I told Khamere.

     “My my my, a wonderful ability for perception! Fascinating that you were able to learn the language without actually being taught it!” The Forgemaster laughed. “I don’t suppose you know why your voice reacts to the runes in my workshop do you? It’s clearly tonal in nature, music, sound, vibration? I have many things I’d like to ask you, but for now I have company appearing soon, so I will not ask you to stay a few weeks here for me to investigate.”

     I hadn’t noticed my voice doing anything until they said something, the numerous symbols around me did react when I spoke. Though, the music the bards were playing was mesmerizing, a deep lilting tune, with a falling crescendo and deeper baseline. Bobbing my head to its beat. It did actually have the same beat that the Forgemaster was beating on the metal with. “You are an artificer, yes?” I ask the smith.

     “Why yes I am! I am the Forgemaster of Glaion! Chief Architect and engineer to the Forgehouse!, I make all sorts of strange and wondrous things. Like those goggles for instance, the King’s military enterprises were quite eager to get those.” Cocking my head at that. Looking back at me the smith noted the slightly worried expression on my face. “I… suppose that isn’t good news for you to hear. Ah, don’t worry about it. The Chancellor won’t spend the money on them for the watch. Which would be the ones to deal with your… hmm how to put it? Antics?”

     “We don’t want to be doing that by the way” I chided back at the smith, “it isn’t out of any maliciousness,” Sighing knowing how well this was going to sound “It’s just our culture.”

     Without missing a beat the Forgemaster added “Then change it. If you don’t want to be attacking the city, then don’t. Because that's the way the city itself sees it. You goblins are a minor nuisance though, hardly make a dent in trade at all.” Khamere pointed at me “You however are not what I was expecting. Stealthy, politically aware, a music lover, apparently a bit of a craftsman to boot.”

     Somewhat taken aback, quite a few inferences the Forgemaster was able to pick out about me with what little I gave. I sat in silence and listened to the lovely tune. Dancing about in my seat for a while listening to the ebbs and flows of the music. My own soft hum adding to their song.

     The Forgemaster and I engaged in conversation about music and the instruments. Encouraged me to keep talking about my people and the way we worked. I spoke only enough to satisfy the smith's curiosity until we moved to the next subject. A fourth bard came out and started adding vocals to the songs. Getting off my chair and dancing to the beat, a slow and heavy tune. My long braid had found its way out of my robe and swung behind me as I twirled around. 

     The Forgemaster commented that it looked like a tail in the darkness, commenting that I was very good at this. “You’d put those pompous pricks in the court to shame. Now this dancing has life to it! Not that washed out waltzing they are fond of.” The Forgemaster cackled again “They claim it has refinement, and a dignified quality to it. I say it’s full of shit. This is refined, you are a pleasure to watch.”

     I smiled as I pirouetted and listened to the bards comment on a Goblin who wasn’t a vicious animal. A small spark of pride awoke in my chest, and I started singing along to the song. Though this felt different, this didn’t feel like the same magic Bhal would have granted or even my own voice. It felt stronger, more nuanced. The area filled with a soft glow that condensed into a series of green lights that drifted upward to mimic a constellation. Not what I had intended, but it fit the subject of the song. 

     The Forgemaster whispered “Now that’s a magic I haven't seen before, it is beautiful..."

***

Hob:

He had wandered out of the cave, covering his eye in the bright light. "Still not fully healed yet, huh?", he thought to himself. He had asked around to see if Ilgor was in the village anywhere and was told that she was out at the tidal pools with Mother Kari. Apparently they were off looking for some herb that only grew around this time of year.

Pushing aside the branches dense with foliage, he squatted down by Kari. She was sound asleep, snoring softly, a pile of damp herbs still next to her. She was separating the long spindly leaves from the floppy stems of the aquatic weed. He quickly finished the job for her, while he watched Illy hunt for more in the shallow pools. Slowly picking her way through the pools, unaware that he was there in the shade of the trees.

After he laid the plants out for Kari, he knew enough that she was going to need them dried. He brought the massive leaves out into the sunlight to dry, walking down closer to where Illy was. She was wearing a soaked brown shirt that barely went past her thighs, apparently having abandoned the priestess' dress along the shore with Kari somewhere he hadn’t noticed.

She turned to the sound of his footsteps on the wet rock, he gently set the leafy platter down in the full sun before turning to her. "Well, that doesn't leave much to the imagination does it?" He asked, trying to sound casual with her.

Looking down, the shirt really did cling to her as he said, not leaving much to think about. "Well, you get a show then." She said without a hint of shame, she cocked her head as she set her hand on her hip continuing. "Why are you here, shouldn't you be in the cave healing?" Her eyes focused solely on the bright pale scar on his face before quickly looking away.

"You're not really my type, Illy." He laughed. "Besides I came to talk with you a bit."

"What do you mean, not your type? I give you a show and I don't even get a compliment?" He knew she was just avoiding the conversation with this. He also wanted to avoid it, but if he wanted to show to both her and Kari that he wasn't some brute, he had to. She pouted, crossing her arms, nearly dropping the bundle of herbs clutched in her off hand.

He smiled, though his face hurt with that little movement. "You're very pretty Illy, but you're not as chesty as I would like." He laughed harder when she pulled the shirt away from her chest to look down then back up at him with a fake hurt look.

  "So you'd like someone more like Cori huh?" She said, walking past him to strip the leaves off the herbs and place them on the leaf platter.

Still laughing at her reaction, "Why does it sound like you want me to try? What am I looking for in this grimy water anyway?" She quickly told him and he began hunting along with her.

"You're not angry are you?" She asked after a long while, they had been silent for long enough they had to move pools twice.

Sighing, he felt his shoulders drag down. Telling himself to suck it up and just talk with his new Priestess. "I thought I was, well I am still, honestly. But, you gave me something more to think about when you visited me in the cave. Kari lectured me constantly while I was there. You have a point."

He saw her pause, look over at him, but didn't say anything. He supposed she felt just as bad about the whole thing, he was justified in being annoyed with the injury. But, she was certainly feeling shame at his choice in not wanting the scar healed. Maybe feeling as guilty about that fight as he was.

They walked back up to where Kari was resting, her staff now laying across her lap. Apparently having been watching the two for quite some time, "Couldn't even let the girl have a bit of modesty huh, boy?" She said with a smirk. Illy only shrugged and wandered behind a tree with her now reacquired dress to change. Turning back to him, she said, "Broken bridges are hard to rebuild when the banks have eroded away."

"Something like that. Though, bridges can be made longer."