Draconic Shennanigans - Episode 19

New allies, old enemies but someone else finally knows Jeremiah's god.

 Chapter Nineteen: Dark Enticement

 Ulrich woke up and rolled over. He rolled back with a yelp of pain as his left arm contacted the floor and pain flared in his upper arm, as hard and as sharp as if someone had just pressed a red hot poker into his muscle.

"What the..." his hand felt a very odd shaped lump in his arm under the bandaged wrapped tight around it.

"Well you're awake," Jeremiah observed from where he was heating up the ever pouring kettle over the flame of a small oil stove, "We did rather worry that it might be beyond you after yesterday."

"Why old boy, you actually sound as if you were worried there for a moment," Ulrich tried to lever himself into a sitting position and struggled with it. Thorian reached out and helped him but his hands were not made to be gentle.

"Ah! Ah, ah," Ulrich gasped for a moment, "Thank you Thorian, thank you very much. I reckon you just made us level for my not realizing just how much of a headache that drink I gave you after Calypso died was going to give you. Yeash! This hurts!" He leaned back against the tunnel wall, put a hand to the bandage and then wished he hadn't.

"Ah! Just what happened?"

"Thorian was playing with a huge, hairy, eight legged friend," Kaelin sat up in her blankets, "When you decided that you'd break up the party. Only problem for you was that you didn't realize that said friend had brought a brother to the party and said brother bit you and bit you good. Pretty sure that we could see bone in the bottom of the hole by the time we finished clearing it out. And oh, you owe Thorian for saving your life. Him and your big bug of a mount. Have to say I'm impressed, the darn thing hasn't tried to eat anyone while you were asleep."

"I think that maybe because I haven't given it a chance to eat anyone," Jeremiah smiled at her as he poured boiling water into the teapot and clicked the lid into place before pouring out a bowl of boiling water.

Kaelin chewed it over for a moment, quite literally.

"Yeah, O.K. he may have a point there," she admitted, glancing at the heap while Ulrich's mount lay surrounded by the blue eyed bodies of its former fellows. It was quivering slightly.

"Well guess I owe all of you a huge thank you," Ulrich smiled wanly and then frowned as Jeremiah plunged his hands in the bowl of hot water, "Just what are you doing old boy?"

"Getting ready to give that arm of yours another look," Jeremiah grimaced, picking through the rolls of bandages. He selected one and unwound a length, which he promptly cut off.

"That's a little short you know," Ulrich pointed out.

"It's not for wrapping round your arm," Jeremiah informed him as he soaked the still rolled up part of the bandage in 'For Healing' potion, "It's to pack the wound."

"Oh I'm sure that my arm is utterly fine with what you have done already," Ulrich grinned, sweating slightly, "You really don't need to be bothering yourself over such a little thing."

"Thorian, pin him down," Jeremiah stated without looking round, "Kaelin, hold his arm still for me."

Ulrich yelped as he found himself back on the floor with Thorian's not inconsiderable weight on top of him, while Kaelin got hold of his arm and twisted it out to where Jeremiah could work on it.

"Seriously people, you do not need to go to this length over a little spider bite," Ulrich complained from the bottom of the heap, then he realized something as Jeremiah started unwinding the bandage round his arm, "Just where has the sleeve of my jacket gone!"

"Battle casualty," Kaelin informed him, looking away from where Jeremiah has finished uncovering the wound, "You wouldn't have wanted to keep it any way, that spider had dribbled all over it. Burnt holes clean through it."

"If it had done that then how come I still have an arm on my left side?" Ulrich demanded.

"Thunder Mage do good magic on you," the goblin leader nodded as he picked up the thieves lantern and shone it on the injury for Jeremiah, "Mighty, mighty magic, showed old many eye's poison the back door."

"It doesn't feel much like magic right now," Ulrich turned grey as Jeremiah's fingers wiggled and worked the roll of bandage out of the wound.

"It's magic alright," the goblin nodded, "Otherwise you be deaded. You be deaded and food for old many eyes, or maybe food for us when you gone." He grinned, showing lots of yellow teeth.

"There's no need for that, Stink of the Midden," Kaelin admonished quietly, trying not to looked to closely as she dripped a potion marked 'Wound cleaner' into the hole in Ulrich's arm. Thankfully this one didn't smoke on contact and Ulrich actually relaxed so it might have been numbing his flesh. When she did dare to look there actually seemed to be a covering of muscle over the bone so it wasn't as bad as she remembered.

 "Why not?" Stink of the Midden grinned some more, even while he held the lantern steady, "Doesn't goblin child wind up in cook pot when hue-mans find nothing else to eat? Hue-mans always saying nasty goblin mens stealing bab-be to eat, yes? To cook up on fire and munch crunch, yes? Well why we do that, huh? Why we do stupid thing like that? We know that hue-mans always want excusable thing so they can come clumpy marching down to the burrows and dig us out and jump up and down on us. Sides, we don't have cook fire, all smoky in den, all cough and choke, no want food then. So we don't want hue-man child, no use, no need, see? But hue-mans, oh yes hue-mans, they have cook pot, they have fire, they have hungry-hungry tums always wanting more and goblin baby easy-peasy to catch, not as hard as rabbit, easy-peasy. Easy-peasy to fill cook pot with goblin child, goblin less than rabbit, goblin just vermin, no one care if man take goblin from another man's land, doing other man favor taking goblin. Easy-peasy!"

"Speaking for myself," Ulrich grunted as Jeremiah pushed the new, slightly smaller bandage into the hole in his arm, "I have never eaten anything that spoke to me first and told me its name."

"Maybe you has and maybe yous hasn't," Stink of the Midden conceded without venom, "How is I's to know, huh? How is I's to know you haven't munched goblin child? Sides, down here, not much to eats down here so we eats what we can find. But say this thoughs, we not eat friend while friend is still talking to us. After you is deaded though." Goblins are very expressive when they shrug, their shoulders apparently having more joints than usual to complete the gesture. "Then you not care much no more any way so no hard feelings, yes?" Stink of the Midden shrugged again and grinned as Jeremiah wound  a new bandage over the top of the packed wound.

"Well I would say to rest that arm," Jeremiah observed as he tied the bandage off, "But seeing as we are still down here then there isn't much chance of that. Just try to lead more with your right hand for a while, okay?"

"I'll try old boy but no promises," Ulrich grinned and then whinced as Thorian helped him sit up again, "I say old friend, could you try and be a little more gentle with the hauling around? My arm could do without the knocking around right now."

"Oh sorry," Thorian backed away and started digging through his pack, "Anyone else want breakfast?"

"Now that is a remarkably good idea," Jeremiah smiled and poured out the tea he'd made with the ever pouring kettle.

"You've been borrowing my stuff again without permission," Ulrich glared.

"I prefer to consider it our stuff for the duration of our travels together," Jeremiah oiled as he held out a cup to Ulrich, "But if you'd prefer to not profit from someone borrowing without permission, I suppose I'll just pour this away." He tilted the cup slowly over.

"Oh alright," Ulrich snatched before the tea could be split all over the floor, "You can blasted well borrow my kettle but, in the interest of this being equal, then I should be allowed to borrow your books whenever I like." He grinned.

Jeremiah clapped a hand down over his pocket where his books where kept but then he smiled oily, "Why Ulrich, I didn't realize that your scholarly inclinations where inclined towards theology. Of course you can have a look at my books. Here, why don't you start with this one?" Jeremiah's hand dug in his pocket and pulled out the tome he had 'collected' from the Abbey.

Kaelin frowned as she looked at it. The cover looked different to how it had looked that night in the Abbey library and she was sure that it wasn't just the fact that she was seeing it in a better light than she had then. The leather looked more brightly green, less scuffed and worn, almost new and... Kaelin leaned forward without realizing that she had done so. There was definite traces of gold work on the cover now. That had definitely not been there the night they had recovered it from the Abbey. Kaelin wracked her brain for a time when Jeremiah would have had the opportunity to practice book repair on their travels and over than when they were at the Wizards Tower nothing sprung to mind. She frowned. She didn't think he'd had enough time for such a complicated hobby while they were staying there, what with drake attacks and exploring the Tower for supplies. She frowned some more, she couldn't think of any amount of time Jeremiah could have had to work on repairing the book. Even the afternoon they were supposed to be hunting for that picture of the golden harp Jeremiah had said that he' continued looking for it even after she'd given up on the phony search. There was something strange about the whole thing.

Ulrich narrowed one eye at Jeremiah as he took the book but then he rested it on his crossed legs and opened the cover. His frown deepened as he read while he sipped his tea. It wasn't that the book started out that aggressively, more a basic outline of the order of the universe and the hierarchy of beings, thought there were some vague promises of deep knowledge and esoteric power. It was just a phrase here and there that made Ulrich suspect that whoever had authored the book had very definite feelings about how those like Thorian and the goblins should exist... or rather, he suspected, not exist. There was a definite under current in the wording that spoke to Ulrich of the sort of people who believed that they were the top of the heap and therefore had a divinely given right to decide who had the right to live and who the world would be better off without. A very us and them, divisive outlook on the world, a divine providence granted to those that were worthy to stamp all over those that were not worthy. But it wasn't really said outright, it was more subversive, more hinted at so that if you tried to bring up single passages or sentences in an argument as evidence for your objections to what was being taught then you would sound overly sensitive, maybe even hysterical.

Ulrich frowned some more. It wasn't just what he was reading that was giving him the creeps about the book. There was a feeling to the process of reading this book that wasn't there with other manuscripts. A... pressure. As if the words on the pages were living things that were trying to wriggle their way into his mind via his eyes and even more than that. As Thorian said something about bacon being ready, Ulrich realized that he had the horrible sensation of something watching him... from behind his own eyeballs.

He snapped the book shut and handed it back to its owner, not entirely sure that he had successfully suppressed the shudder that ran up his spine.

"Thanks old boy," he managed a smile, "That really was illuminating."

"Any time, Ulrich, any time," Jeremiah's smile was greasy, "After all, friends really should help each other to see the light."

"Perhaps you should try and start the fire sometime then," Thorian sniffed as he handed out bacon rolls.

Jeremiah's expression became pained as he struggled not to ask the question that Thorian's statement invited. It was a struggle that he lost.

"And what would starting the fire have to do with enabling our friend Ulrich to see the light?" he asked at last. Thorian looked at him as if he couldn't believe just how thick Jeremiah was acting and then he suspected that Jeremiah was taking the micky out of him.

"Well duh. Fire is light, light is fire," he explained hands held out wide, lip lifted in a sneer of disbelief, "If you want to help Ulrich see the light, you should light the fire."

Ulrich and Kaelin looked at each other across the little flame of the stove, faces distorted with the effort not to laugh. Then their eyes met.

Jeremiah sat, eyes turned up to the ceiling in an expression of long suffering endurance, as Ulrich and Kaelin dissolved into laughter, the goblins following their example, possible without understanding what was going on, or possible understanding that Jeremiah had often lorded it over Thorian because he was smarter and that Thorian had just managed to make Jeremiah look like a fool. Even Ulrich's centipede lifted its head from its coils and waved its antennae in curiosity. For some reason that made Kaelin laugh even harder.

"Thank you for that," Ulrich smiled and lifted his cup to Thorian. "I needed that!" He did not say that it had just about washed away the feeling that something was watching him from inside his own skull.

"Happy to help," Thorian grinned and use a piece of bread to mop out the bacon pan. They were just beginning to pack up and reload their packs when there was a happy jabbering from down the tunnel they had escape from the day before and a couple of Stink of the Midden's goblins clattered into their camp, holding high little jars containing a blue glow.

"Are they the empty potion vials?" Jeremiah asked after a long look.

"Yes, yes," Stink of the Midden grinned, "Left them lying around, no more wanted them so we use them. Send some of the lads back to last cave. Light bugs having fun in there, all munchity-crunchity. Easy enough to pop some in the bottles. Now we don't use lights that tell dark pointy ears that we are here." His gesture at Jeremiah's puppeted Ash Elves left no one in any doubt as to what Stink of the Midden thought of them. "Going close to their places next I'll wager, no fun to be had there, not if they catch us. Plenty of fun for them, oh yes, plenty of fun for them, not much fun for us, oh no."

"Well then, let's see," Ulrich smiled and leaning forward, blew out the stove. Kaelin blinked in the sudden darkness striving to get her eyes used to lack of light. After a few moments the faces of her companions swum out of the gloom, painted strange hues in the blue light. Stink of the Midden chattered something that may have been a goblin laugh, he and his fellows nearly invisible in the blue glow.

"Now we see you, you no see us," he chuckled, "How does it feel to be the ones scared of the big clompy boot?"

"Singularly uncomfortable," Jeremiah said in the darkness, his eyes fixed on the goblin. The little pipsqueak was becoming far too familiar with them all. The runt had obviously forgotten who was the master here and who would have been lying in a road side ditch if it wasn't for him, Jeremiah. He supposed that it was the problem with encouraging their fixation with Kaelin. Well, next time he'd make sure that they knew who they really should sing their praise to because there would be a next time, that he was sure of, he just need to dispose of the garbage first.

"But at the same time we are less likely to let other people know that we are coming this way," Ulrich observed, "So I'd say that our little friend here showed a brilliant use of his brain." Stink of the Midden preened. Unseen in the gloom, Jeremiah glowered.

Carefully, Ulrich poured the last of the oil out of the stove back into the flask and capped it shut before striding across to his many legged mount and swinging on to its back. It was an odd motion as the centipedes back was only slightly higher than a regular chair so he had to fold his legs up high. The centipede rippled and turned its head as if considering whether the smell of blood on its rider meant that it could have another go at bucking him off but a dig of Ulrich's thumb in its injured back plate convinced it that such a move was not worth the effort it took. Rippling its multitude of legs it swung round to face the tunnel that lead further into this darksome world below ground. Thorian fell in at his right shoulder without a word while the goblins slid up on silent feet on his left. It appeared that the loss of one of their comrades in the fight against the centipedes had convinced them as to the danger of this place and they had lost their sense of invulnerability brought on by having an Ash Elf have to get down and kiss one of their boots. Kaelin managed to follow right on behind them, even though her spine clenched and her hair tried to stand on end as she heard Jeremiah's collection of puppets start following along behind her. She for one would be quite glad if he lost the entire lot and was never able to get any of them back. About the only thing worse than them was the shadow things that he sometimes summoned up. Kaelin shuddered as the memory of their hideous creaking moaning sounded again in her ears. They were something worse than his puppets, at least if he decided to set his puppets on them she'd have a fighting chance of taking them out where as those things...

She shuddered. Just how can you hit something that doesn't have a body? She just cope with things that had a body but something made of mist and shadow? How could you fight that? That and they were under the control of someone she still didn't fully trust. Yeah, he'd helped save Ulrich the day before but there was something off in the smell of him today. The last time he'd smelt like that it was when he was trying to convince her and Thorian to come back to the Abbey with him and she was pretty sure that he had done something terrible while they were there. The smell of blood was too distinctive for someone with her nose, even if it had not been visible on his clothes.

They pressed on into the dark, the light of the kerveads only just lighting their way so Kaelin trailed her finger tips along the rock wall, the stone uneven and time worn under her touch. The walk took on the timeless quality of a dream, eyes straining to see in the gloom, the muffled sounds of their steps susurrating back to them out of the throat of stone. Kaelin felt her mind begin to drift in the dark, the world around them becoming more and more unreal. Part of her knew that she had always seemed to be walking in the dark, always shut out of the light, her longing to find her place outside of the dark the dreams of a silly, stupid child. She had been born into the dark, it swam in her blood, it grew in her bones. Who was she fooling to think that she could leave it behind? No matter how far she ran she was always going to run back to it in the end. It was where she belonged.

She sneezed and shook her head, fighting to get her grandfather's voice out of her mind. Damn it, the only thing she wanted to run from was that damn freak. Why could he just leave her alone? She wasn't his property. She wasn't a thing. You could own things but people weren't things. And that she realized was the problem with Jeremiah, he was another one who looked at people as if they were more things than people. She shuddered at the sound of the foot steps behind her, the foots steps of many but the breath of only one. After this she was going to warn Stink of the Midden to be more careful around the Mage of Thunder. A reminder that he was a hue-man and therefore should be treated with a degree of fear might be timely, she was picking up a certain degree of dislike in Jeremiah's scent when he was talking to the goblin or rather, when the goblin was talking to him.

She jerked her hand from the wall with a wordless exclamation, muffled in haste.

"What's the matter?" Thorian's voice came out of the dark, with some degree of control over his volume for once.

"I'm not sure," Kaelin stretched out her hand again, carefully brushing her finger tips over the wall, "Any chance of one of those light vials being brought this way?"

Stink of the Midden wriggled his way back down the corridor to where she was standing, holding the vial of kerveads up high. Kaelin peered closely at the wall.

"It's been masoned," she reported, "This isn't a cave, its a tunnel."

"Surely you exaggerate my dear Kaelin," Jeremiah's voice drifted out of the dark, "We haven't crossed any threshold that I've seen."

"Well if you've ever seen perfect squares any where in nature I'm willing to be persuaded that we are not in a tunnel," Kaelin rolled her eyes unseen in the darkness, "If not, then someone has lined this tunnel with masoned stones."

"Why would they do that?" Thorian's frown was so strong it could be heard in his voice.

"My guess would be that we are approaching some where important to the at least some of the denizens of this world," Ulrich noted, "There was something in the book Governor Risgath gave me that said that Ash Elves do have a type of architecture, valuing slaves that have any skill at working stone and metal, or sometimes trading with the other races that live down here to have caves that have a social significance lined and decorated. Some of the out right caverns they'll actually build whole houses in. We haven't seen any caverns like that yet but apparently there are some really big ones down here that would have you believing that you are some where topside on a moonless night if it wasn't for the fact that it never rains."

"Well then," Jeremiah grinned in the dark, "It seems we are finally approaching the end of our quest. Lead on, Thunder warriors, lead on."

Kaelin rolled her eyes at Jeremiah's pompous tone but as she started to follow her living companions she took a moment to call up the wolf, feeling it tense and stretch just below her muscles. As far as she was concerned any where the Ash Elves considered important was going to be trouble with a Capital 'T'.

As they marched deeper into the realm of the Ash Elves the darkness actually lifted slightly, chunks of crystal set within the walls, shining back and increasing the light provided by the goblins make shift torches. Part of Kaelin wished that they didn't as the reliefs carved into the walls were not designed to bring comfort. They seemed to have a love for trampling on other races and glorified it in their artwork, coming up with ever more inventive ways of tormenting their prisoners. There was also panels that seemed to display some of their history but Kaelin couldn't work out all the details in the short amount of time she could see them. She guessed that most of them were to do with how the clans had picked their motifs but one relief however, made her pause and look more closely.

The first thing that stuck her was that it was clearly taking place above ground as a moon arched high over the scene below, a Chester cat's grin of a moon that shone down on the edge of the water, each wave carved with intricate, almost painful detail. She half expected the water to move and sigh with its never ending hunger. Gathered on the shore the Ash Elves knelt in supplication to the figure that rose from the waves, large than life, staff of office raised high over its head, if you could call that grotesque thing a head. The skull was far too long and pointed to be natural and the face had eyes that were far too far apart to be comfortable. It also had no nose or mouth, its lower face a nest of writhing tentacles that whipped and coiled as it looked down upon its adoring crowd.

"Er, Ulrich?" she called quietly through the dark, "Did that book of yours make any mention about were those Begetters happened to live?"

"Not exactly," he admitted, "Just some references about the Deeps. I have to admit I figured that it meant some where in the depths of the Underworld as that is where the Ash Elves retreated to. I figured that they were trying to rediscover their creators. Why do you ask?"

"Because the oceans have depths as well," Kaelin said, "And there are interesting things living down there on the sea floor."

"Could be..." Ulrich admitted, trailing off. Light had bloomed up ahead, revealing a corridor not only lined with shaped and chiselled stone but faux pillars holding up carved lintels. The light itself came from a doorway, the lintel of which was carved in the form of a massive spider, its legs reaching from one side of the corridor to the other, its many eyes gleaming with gems set in its carved eye sockets. Stink of the Midden and his goblins chittered with nerves, forking fingers at the image as if they thought that it was about to crawl down off the lintel and eat them. Kaelin looked at it and shuddered. Then she looked closer and wished she hadn't. The spider's body wasn't the spider's body, it was that snarling snout of a dragon that grinned down at her. The moment of the light in its gem stone eyes made it look like it was winking at her. Kaelin twisted her mouth and then stuck her tongue out at it. She knew it was childish but it made her feel better about the whole thing.

"Well, here we go," Ulrich said quietly, drawing the sword he favored for his right hand, "We few, we lucky few."

"We band of buggered!" Kaelin muttered but they were stepping through the archway.

The room beyond had a high ceiling and was ancient, the stalactites that had been hacked off and smoothed out when the cave was lined to turn it into a temple had grow back, dripping down through the gaps in the stone, looked uncannily like tree roots forcing their way through the stones of a drain. The reliefs on the walls continued the themes of death and glory and monsters that scuttled in the dark. More pressing was what the room contained. Scattered across the floor where heaps of eggs. Kaelin frowned as she stepped into the room herself and saw them. They were that large there was no doubt that they were the eggs of dragons but they were not laid out in the neat concentric rings of a dragons nest and neither were they laid in the hollows that dragons eggs would be. Instead they were heaped up in piles like the eggs of some insects and cushioned on white, spongy, fibrous looking mats. Kaelin felt her mouth go dry as she started to realize what that carving over the lintel of the doorway meant.

The bowel clenching horror of it nearly made her miss the fact that they weren't the only ones in the cave. It was Thorian's cheerful shout that woke her to the real danger of the place.

"It's Thorian time!"

She turned her head to see Thorian go crashing towards a huddle of Ash Elves and dog sized spiders that clicked and wave their paps at him, while Ulrich charged straight into the heart of the largest knot of Ash Elves, an armed guard surrounding the Ash Elf noble woman who was tending to the larest pile of eggs in the center of the... room? Temple, temple was a better word for it. Screw that, why was she even worried about what the blasted room was? The wolf jumped forward, stretching out her jaws, fangs springing through gums with the noise of nails being hammered through a plank of wood and this time the change rippled down her arms, her fingers hooking over as new cells coating the ends of her finger bones activated, pushing claws out through her skin. That was better, the world looked much simpler now. She sniffed once as Thorian's sword rang against the blade of an Ash elf. Friend. She sniffed again as a bolt from an Ash Elf crossbow whistled passed her. Foe! Her lips peeled back from her teeth and she leapt forward.

Behind her Stink of the Midden and his goblins surged to the left of the tunnel opening, hacking into the front line of spiders with glee. The Ash Elves standing further back blinked in surprise at the little green skins ferocity, then three unlimbered their swords, striding forward to meet them as the other two cocked their crossbows.

Jeremiah strode into the temple and looked round as tooth and blade crashed to his right, spiders and Ash Elf bows threatening to surround Thorian and Kaelin while to his left Stink of the Midden yelled encouragement to his fellows even as one of them fell to an spider's bite. Ahead, Ulrich grunted as Ash Elf body guard slashed him across the shoulders but failed to stop him bursting through their ranks and coming face to face with the Noble who sneered at him even as her finely wrought blade whispered from its sheath.

Jeremiah smiled and gestured for his puppeted Ash Elves to form up around him. He heard the Nobles shriek of disgust as they complied but he paid it no mind as he concentrated a moment and then the centipedes that had been crawling up the tunnel behind him boiled out to the entrance, pouring over the walls to get round the plug that was Jeremiah. Several Ash Elves stared as the tide of chitin, a mistake as it gave Thorian time to get a really decent swing in. An Ash Elf paid for his distraction with his life, coming apart at the waist, being very deceased by the time he hit the floor. Kaelin set her teeth into a spider and savaged it, snapping it from side to side with shakes of her head.

Stink of the Midden and his goblins managed to chop one of the spiders in front of them to pieces and one of the other spiders started backing away, something like fear showing in its eyes. The Ash elves of that troop pushed forward, blades hissing through the air but Stink of the Midden proved to be fast, ducking and dodging round the blows struck at him. He made a very indelicate sound up at the elves glaring down at him, causing their lips to twist into feral snarls. Stink of the Midden waggled his tongue at them.

Ulrich's blade rang against that of the Elf Noble. Her expression didn't change as her body guards closed in around him but as he evaded their strikes and blows her eyebrows rose, even as she ducked out of combat, intending to let her body guards finish the job. Her mouth pursed and a speculative look came into her eyes.

Thorian and Kaelin continued their fight against the troop to Jeremiah's right, aided and abetted by the four centipedes that he had sent that way. Granted one of his puppets took a battering as a spider tried to poison it to death the same time as an Ash Elf sheered one of its mouth parts off. To his left one of the goblins cried out as a bolt thudded home into his arm. Stink of the Midden responded with such a rage, stabbing and striking at the feet of the elf in front of him, that the elf was forced to do a very awkward, almost comical dance to avoid the goblin's little blade. Jeremiah smiled as he came up behind Stink of the Midden, the words of a vile and depraved pray falling from his lips, lined with blood as his tongue split and blistered even as it shaped the dialect of the Abyss.

Stink of the Midden didn't even have a chance to cry out as a hand grabbed the top of his head, yanked his skull back and then the cold metal sliced...

"For the glory of Klu'ga-nath!" Jeremiah's eyes shone with an unholy light as the goblin gargled and choked his last, the dark red flood pouring across the flagstones. Even the Ash Elves were stunned, stepping back as something that was not light but neither was it shadows twinned for a moment around Jeremiah and then burst. The shock wave rolled through the temple and even the noble lifted her hand to protect her eyes.

With a hideous squeal wounded spider, injured goblin and battered centipede dropped to the floor, writhed, curled up and died, eyes stretched wide by what they thought they saw in the unlight, faces set in bone chilling parodies of expressions, muscles trying to show something that no mortal could fully express. Ever hair on Kaelin's body stood up as straight and as stiff as a needle and she howled with pain, the pack's salute to a fallen comrade. The spider in front of her had about half a heartbeat before it was a greasy stain on the floor, smeared into none existence.

Jeremiah ducked as an Ash Elf cocked a crossbow and aimed at him. Seizing one of Stink of the Midden's stunned comrades, he yanked the goblin up in front of him. It jerked as the bolt smacked into its midriff, stunned disbelief on its face.

"To Klu'ga-nath I give your soul," Jeremiah smiled, even as the blood stained his beard.

Ulrich's centipede managed an grating agonized hissing shrill that could only be its attempt at a scream and lunged sideways, shaking its head in agony but Ulrich reached out with his left hand and yanked its head round by an antennae. He yelled as pain flared up his arm and burned in his shoulder but he hung on, dragging the centipede round in a circle until he faced the noble again. Something in her expression gave him an idea. A knee to the centipede's side sent it slamming between the two members of her bodyguard that had surrounded him, sending them tumbling out of his way. He dived rolled off of its back, suppressing the urge to scream as the pain licked up his arm again, and came to the knee at her feet.

"Great lady, allow me to say that of all the hidden beauties in this or any other realm we have seen you shine the brightest. No darkness could hide your radiance for it gleams in the darkness like a star in the vault of heaven, a gem in the heart of Hestia," he tried to gaze up at her with adoration.

She looked at him with a certain degree of curiosity, her eyes flicking to first Jeremiah and then Kaelin as they continued their bloody work. So far her Ash elves had held their own, their pet spiders taking the casualties but how long was that going to last? She held up her hand as her body guards stepped forward, blades leveled at his body. They paused, faces unhappy. She leaned forward, fingers brushing the bandage on his upper arm. She looked at his face and he looked her in the eye. That seemed to either impress her or give her permission or maybe both. Her finger slipped under the bandage and lifted it slightly. She lifted her eyebrows at what she found there.

"You were touched by her fangs?" her voice held a rich melody, "Her venom sank deep?"

"To the bone, I am assured," Ulrich replied, not looking down. He did not expect the smile that crossed her face and definitely did not expect the hand that took his and lifted him to his feet. Her grip was surprisingly strong and firm, her slim fingers hiding a surprising toughness. Turning slightly she trilled something in a lilting tongue that was none the less penetrating in its tones. Her body guards lower their swords, faces sullen and mistrustful. Around the Temple, Ash Elves lowered their weapons and stepped back, calling what was left of their pets to heel.

"Weapons down people!" Ulrich ordered, "Truce and parley! They are willing to talk!"

"You what?" Thorian looked round in disbelief, "Since when have pointy ears wanted to talk?"

Kaelin was already moving, a bestial snarl rising in her throat, eyes shifting through amber yellow to crimson as the object of her hate fell under her gaze. Even as she approached the last two of the remaining goblins were fleeing back the way they had come, sobbing and crying.

"Now Kaelin," Jeremiah smiled oily as he stepped smarty behind the ranks of his puppeted Ash Elves, "I'm sure we can come to an understanding."

Kaelin wasn't listening, fur bristling as she stamped forward, fangs dripping. Jeremiah flicked a finger. A puppet stepped forward, blade lifting. Kaelin's fist smacked into its wrist that hard the bones cracked, the sword going spinning off into the shadows as the puppeted Ash Elf's forearm bent backwards on its self, bones erupting through the skin. It didn't scream, face impassive even as her bull rush staggered it back. Kaelin's claws sank deep into its rib cage, twinning into its bones. Growling and snarling, her muscles bulged as she pulled. With the noise of tearing meat the puppeted Ash Elf came apart in a welter of torn tissue and black, congealed blood.

Jeremiah got his arm up, just in time. He screamed as Kaelin's fangs sank deep and worried at his muscle. He screamed again as his bones creaked under her jaw power and he flicked his free hand desperately.

Kaelin released and yanked her head back just in time as the puppet's blade whistled through the air where her neck should have been. Her back hand blow sent the puppet tumbling across the floor and she turned snarling on Jeremiah. He retreated, hand clutching his bleeding arm. It seemed that, despite all his efforts with their supplies, Jeremiah wasn't carrying quite as much padding as he used to and her teeth had met meat, rather than just fat.

Kaelin's blooded jaws opened wide again.

"You really are pleasing to my god," Jeremiah's grin was all the more vile for the pain laced through it, giving a even darker undertone to the triumph in that look.

Kaelin stopped, ears flicking forward.

"Betrayal, infighting, the break down of teamwork," Jeremiah's grin spread even more, "Klu'ga-nuth would be pleased with you."

Kaelin shivered as she fought the beast back into its cage, bones creaking and cracking as jaws and claws retracted. She didn't wipe her bloodied mouth.

"Do you know what I hope, Jeremiah?" she spat, "I hope you are judged and found wanting. I hope that other gods look at you and realized what a worthless, weak, pathetic little cockroach you are! I hope they find a way to make sure Stink of the Midden's soul is there to watch you perish and he gets to give you a damn good kick in the pants as your soul goes down to whatever hell they have chosen for you, you Freak!"

A quiet hand clap rang out. The Ash Elf Noble was applauding.

"Tell me, how did you tame her?" she asked Ulrich. Kaelin bristled.

"Not so much tamed as encouraged her to see us as pack," Ulrich explained, "The wolf is loyal to its family above all else, especially when that family is the one chosen rather than the one it was born into."

The Ash Elf frowned and very fetching the expression looked too as it made the end of her nose tip up. The other Ash Elves looked away but Ulrich admired it openly and that seemed to please her.

"I will admit that I do not understand your last statement," she admitted, "To us the clan is everything and the clan is forever but perhaps it is different for lesser creatures."

"And am I such a lesser creature?" Ulrich asked smiling.

"Let us say that perhaps I am entertaining the idea that you might be capable of being more. After all, you have some impressive pets. That one particularly," she gestured to Jeremiah, "Has a ruthlessness that would mark him as valuable to the clans."

He smiled and bowed to her, even as he still clutched his ragged arm.

"So, what brings such notable surface dwellers to the Underworld," she asked, ignoring Jeremiah's injury, "It is unusual for your kind to come into our realm and to manage so well. You must be mighty warriors of the surface world."

"Well we are not known as the King's Special for nothing," Ulrich smiled easily, "As for why we are here, we'd rather like to know why the Noble Ash Elves are now set on conquering the surface world. After all, we do know that the surface world is some what drab and dull with its insipid wild life and inclement weather so we are curious as to why you can be bothered with us?"

Her expression became shuttered and her guards moved uneasily.

"It has become a necessity," she said carefully.

"But if that necessity was removed?" Ulrich asked, "If what has been changed was changed back? Would the noble Ash Elves be content to go back to leaving the Surface World more or less in peace?"

She thought about it, casing a look over her guards. They all looked down, avoiding her gaze. She seemed to do some internal calculation.

"The Matriarchs would have to consider it," she stated at last, "But if the balance of our world is resorted then we would most likely decrease our quests of acquisition."

"Then it seems to me that we have grounds for an accord," Ulrich held out his hand, "My lady."

"Indeed we do," she smiled as she laid her hand in his. She seemed pleasantly surprised when he raised it to his lips and kissed her fingers.

"Er, what just happen?" Thorian asked.

Draconic Shennanigans - Episode 18

 Finally! A new chapter! After an enforced six weeks away I'm finally back to writing Draconic Shennanigans. The party are still bumbling about in the dark but they have come across something rather new. These plant pots are rather more mobile than terracotta usually is.

Chapter Eighteen: Golems in the Glow

 "Lead on oh Goddess of the Thunder-voice," Jeremiah gestured to the last tunnel in the cavern that they had not yet tried.

"Hold you hard there," Thorian looked round from cleaning off his blade, "Goddesses shouldn't be leading the charge you know, that's putting them in danger, that is. After all the next thing we come across might be faster them we are and if Haggis gets a puncture then our Goddess is hardly going to be able to sing properly. We ought to go first, then we're ready to meet any danger."

"I agree, old boy," Ulrich grinned as he put the elven forged blade back in its scabbard, "Those with the sharp edges ought to be at the sharp edge of the action."

"As you wish," Jeremiah grinned and waved them forward, smiling as the goblins crowded along to follow Thorian, chattering around their bigger cousin's feet. "Coming my dear?" He gestured to Kaelin.

"I think I prefer the back of the group," Kaelin's sullen expression also conveyed a heavy dose of active dislike for the fat priest. 

"Of course, my dear," Jeremiah bowed to her, "Far be it for me to prevent sacrificing yourself to let the rest of the team know that there is something black, silent and running like molasses squelching after us, longing to dissolve our boots and the feet inside them."

 Kaelin shuddered at the reminder of the oozing black sludge puddle that had chased them down the tunnel leading to the mushroom cave and glared at him.

"Alright you win," she rolled her eyes and fell into step beside him but jerked her arm away as he reached out to take it, "At least your minions don't smell at the moment." She suppressed a shudder as the Ash Elves with the glowing blue eyes closed in around them. The hairs on her arms stood up straight as she fought down the urge to bolt from the trap. They were just plain freaky, their glowing eyes and slack jaws, the disjointed but somehow synchronized steps. She was just grateful that this time it was the soft flap of leather soles that landed on the stone beneath their feet and not the click-clack of bare bone tap, tap, tapping off of the rock. Glancing back she saw that the blue glow of the kervead building up over the mess they had left on the ledge but so far none of the little bugs were following them, though she doubted that they would take long before they started swarming after the group again, especially with Jeremiah's new toys tagging along. They must be leaving a scent trail half a mile long. She could only hope that they managed a half decent rest stop between then and now. Her stomach was beginning to remind her again just how long it had been since they had breakfast at Black Randle's and the uncomfortable heaviness was beginning to build in the back of her eyes. How long since she'd had a sleep? A whole night of unbroken, uninterrupted, honest to God sleep? It could have been on the ship, or maybe when they had been staying with Elisha. She definitely remembered having a few nights sleep without interruption there. Maybe it was making her soft, being able to remember laying down and sleeping all she wanted but now the day's stresses where beginning to catch up with her and she wasn't sure just how much further she was going to be able to go before it really hit her. Not that she was going to say a thing about that when Jeremiah was stumping along beside her.

With a complete lack of regard for health and safety the goblins bounded up and over the stone bridge that arched over the pathway the King's Special had first entered this cold corner of hell by, crowding across the bridge in a pushing, shoving knot that threatened to send them tumbling of the edge at any second. Some how they made it across without have a casualty but Kaelin had no idea how. She shook her head as she stepped off the bridge herself, gaining the relative safety of the cave opening at the other end. She glanced back again to double check whether or not the kerveads were following them yet and then, on impulse she turned more fully and looked down the stone throat of the void that dominated the center of this cavern. No light glowed in its inky depths and she wasn't sure whether that was reassuring.

"Something interesting, my dear?" Jeremiah enquired.

"Just double checking," Kaelin admitted as she turned away, part of her still wondering just how deep that pit had to be. Then she decided that she really didn't want to know, as long as nothing else crawled up out of it. "Oh, will they be quiet?" she asked in a suppressed hiss, realizing just how far ahead the goblins had traveled and just how clearly she could still hear them, "Are they trying to tell everything down here where we are?"

"My dear Kaelin," Jeremiah smiled as he paced along surrounded by his body guards, "I thought you had already done that with Haggis?"

Kaelin went to snap at him and then clicked her teeth shut. Haggis' penetrating voice probably had traveled far down these tunnels and she'd been playing him in several different locations so it was more than likely she'd let things down here know that they had something intruding on their territories but she wasn't going to given Jeremiah the satisfaction of hearing her admit that. Instead she kicked a stone along in front of her as she clumped forward, mouth set in a more sour line than it usually was, trying not to flinch as the stone closed in around them as they entered yet another tunnel. She just prayed that this one was going to lead them to what ever it was they were supposed to find down here. She was becoming a little tired of going round in circles with no apparent progress.

Despite her misgivings the tunnel was clear of any and all apparent dangers, for which she heard Jeremiah muttering a pray of thanks as they saw the walls open out ahead of them. Then the yelling started as the goblins crowded up to the edge of the opening and the heads of the creatures in the cavern swung round to look at them, great sideways mandibles scissoring and clicking as long bodies reared back, front legs waving as they scented the prey entering their den. The goblins yelled and shrieked but, stuck behind the log jam of their bodies neither Jeremiah nor Kaelin could actually see what the matter was.

"Great!" Kaelin yelled, craning to try and see, "Now what's happening?"

"Pincer bugs! Pincer bugs!" the goblins squeaked, waving various rusty looking blades.

"Fancy centipede leg stew for dinner?" Ulrich called over his shoulder as his elf forged, fae given blades whispered from their scabbards.

"It's Thorian time!" the orc cross breed yelled with glee as his great broad sword swung through the air but the giant centipedes were stunningly unimpressed as they swarmed towards the group from two different directions, mouths gaping wide to bite and tear. It proved to be a serious mistake on their part as Thorian charged forward to meet them. Whooping with glee Thorian swung and the first centipede parted, head and forelimbs flying off to smack against the wall as the rest of its body went into spasm. The second juddered to a halt, a puzzled look crossing its face before it collapsed, yellow ooze spilling from its split carapace.

Ulrich's blades swung in glittering arches, the blue glow of Hat shining off of them to dazzle and confuse the centipede in front of him. It reared back, jaws snapping on empty air and Ulrich's first blow missed. The second did not, bisecting its ugly skull with deft precision. The loss of three of their number did nothing to slow the others down. There again neither did it slow down the goblins, if anything they seemed more determined than ever to do their part.

"Death to the enemies of Goddess of the Thunder-voice!" their leader yelled, "Death! Death! Death!" 

Whooping they dog piled forward into the cavern, meeting the giant bugs with a crash and a lot more enthusiasm than skill, most of their blows going wildly a rye. It was almost a surprise when one of the rusty blades did manage to jab in between two of the chitin plates of the thing's armor. Certainly the centipedes warbling screech sounded surprised, almost shocked, as if it had never expected a creature that should have been prey to be able to bite back.

As the goblins pressed forward, they cleared a small gap between the crush of their bodies and the side of the tunnel mouth. Flicking a finger, Jeremiah directed his Ash elf puppets to plug the breach, giving himself and Kaelin room to step forward behind the press and actually see what was going on. Kaelin immediately lifted Haggis' blow pipe to her lips and began to blow.

"Now my dear," Jeremiah smiled, "I thought we were supposed to be making less noise down here."

Haggis let lose a very sour, off key note. Kaelin glared at Jeremiah and tried again.

The blast that ripped across the cavern, buzzed through Thorian and Ulrich's nerves, burning new energy into their flagging muscles. Thorian threw back his head and roared an orcish war cry at the centipedes crowding closer.

"NAAAARRGH!"

The bugs paused a step but then came on.

Expressionless and glowing eyed, the two puppeted Ash elves that could reach a bug struck out, arms swinging with a mechanical tick-tock rhythm that none the less manage to land a hit on the centipede with the goblin's dagger stuck within its shell. It shrieked as one of its antenna clattered across the floor, yellow goo splashing and trailing through the air as it twisted from side to side. Still shrilling it lunged forward, mandibles scissoring shut with a snap around a goblins neck, neatly snipping it head clear off. For a few second the goblins body continued to hit the centipedes shell with its fist as it twitched and spasmed and then it over balanced and fell beneath the centipedes many legs. The Ash elves fared no better as one of the other centipedes rippled in close and instead of rearing up, bit at leg height, sheering through a puppet's knee joint. As the Ash elf fell it bit again and again, jointing the puppet into quarters more efficiently than a butcher. As it sheered through the elf's neck the glow in its eyes faded and then went out as skeins of light threaded shadow spiraled up from its mouth.

"You do not know when to take a hint," Ulrich observed as he fended off the centipede biting at his face.

With another thunderous battle roar Thorian plunged forward, blade slicing through the air, chopping out deadly, vicious arcs. The first lost a bunch of its legs and then lost its head. The second fell, legs clutching at the rift that split it from chin to half way along its length.

Grinning, with the music of Haggis buzzing through his veins, Ulrich ran towards Thorian's broad back and vaulted up him, balanced on his shoulder's for a moment and then sprang towards the centipede that had not yet come close enough to do battle. Thorian yelled and struck out, only just pulling the blow as he realized that what had clambered up him was not an enemy he had not seen but an overly exuberant Ulrich. There was a rip and a piece of Ulrich's coat fluttered unnoticed to the ground.

Ulrich landed squarely on the centipedes back, gripping with his knees. It reared up, shrilling out a rasping cry and plunged down, throwing itself across the cavern, Ulrich laughing as he hung on to its hard carapace.

"I really don't believe that," Jeremiah shook his head, even as he spun his hands through the air, pulling the light tainted shadows escaping from his mangled puppet towards himself so he could then feed it back into the rest of his puppets as they advanced across the cavern floor, expressionless faces chilling in their mindless purpose. The goblins at their side were much less restrained, screaming and yelling as they swarmed over the nearest centipede, little weapons proving that some times it wasn't size that mattered but sheer, unwavering numbers. High, squeaky voices jabbered and shrieked as little fists punched and punched and punched again, the centipede snapping first one way and then another as the goblins swarmed it under, grizzly crunches sounding out above the din of battle as its struggles became weaker and weaker. Still screeching and yelling, the goblins battered it into the floor until it finally lay still.

Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock, the undead Ash elves advanced on the last two centipedes, weapons rising a falling to a dread, unceasing beat that drummed from reality's counter-point. The centipedes, at last, hesitated, antenna twitching, confused by the smell of so many of their own dead and the fact that the dead flesh in front of them still moved. It wasn't a good time to hesitate.

Thorian crashed into one of them, an avalanche of  battle rage that snapped its foe like an dry twig, while the undead Ash elves closed with the other. Their blades draw back as one. As one they stabbed.

The centipede writhed for a moment, twisting on the impaling blades and then it flopped over and became still. The Ash elves stepped back, faces unchanging as the last notes of Haggis faded away. Kaelin let the blow pipe fall from her mouth as she watch nonplussed as Ulrich went laughing passed.

The last centipede crashed into one stalagmite, turned, lunged and smashed into another. It span, trying to bite the thing on its back, the thing that was digging something sharp and cold, it between its armored plates. It span some more, turned and rippled its length, managing to make the shape of a horse trying to buck its rider off. It lunged and slammed up against a stone pillar again.

"You can break easy or you can break hard!" Ulrich grinned, giving the dagger another prod. The centipede ran straight at the wall and charged up it, legs scratching and scrabbling. Ulrich hung on like a limpet and quite deliberately leaned back until his weight peeled them both off the wall, the centipede whistling like a holed kettle as it fell. It slammed into the floor and squirmed until it managed to rippled itself over on to its many, many feet. It bounded over the cavern and whip turned, Ulrich hung on. It charged up a pillar and threw itself off, Ulrich hung on. It lunged and turned and coiled, Ulrich hung on. It dashed across the cavern, charging full speed at the wall... and miss judged its stopping distance.

There was a solid sounding crack as it head butted the wall, Ulrich leaning back just in time to avoid the same fate but he still hung on. The centipede, wobbled and wove into the center of the cavern and juddered to a halt. Ulrich still hung on. The centipede stopped, its head hanging low and Kaelin was sure that if it could have panted it would have done so.

After a moment, Ulrich sat up straight on the centipede's back.

"There we go," he smiled and patted his new mount, "You see, good people, discipline, time and patience are the great levelers." He nudged the centipede with his heels and tapped it with the fingers of his right hand. It slowly curved to the right. "There are those who would tell you that such a beast could not be tamed, there are those who would tell you that goblins would never try to be something more than little thieves and brigands." The goblins nattered and waved their little weapons in salute as Ulrich rode passed them. "And there are those who would tell you that it is impossible for surface dwellers to survive in the Underworld." The centipede came to a stop at his touch. "And it is precisely that sort of small minded thinking that says that we are nothing and can never be anything more that what we all ready are. Well I say differently, I say we can be as great as we choice to be, I say we can take on anything and everything this place or any other can throw at us and we can win! We can be the greatest heroes that this world as ever seen and when we are finally gone, we will still be for we will be legendary! Who's with me?"

The goblins cheered, jumping up and down. They may not have understood everything Ulrich had said but the fire in his speech had light them up and they were all for it.

"I'd say that is a jolly good idea," Jeremiah said, clapping his hands, "And to make sure that our legends reach the surface again." He spread his fingers and began to chant.

"You do you have to?" Ulrich's look of disgust mirrored Kaelin's.

"You said we should be as great as we choice to be," Jeremiah smiled as the power gathered around his hands, "And I choice to be the greatest at providing us with a few more body guards." Ulrich wasn't sure whether the glow in Jeremiah's eyes was just reflected or whether he was beginning to echo his own creations.

The goblins yelled and fell back as the threads and ropes of light laced shadow squirmed over the floor, trickling down the throats of centipedes that lay unmoving and shattered. Thorian frown, he wasn't entirely sure that he didn't see something in the light, something like faces, or even whole figures. Figures that poured into the cadavers as if they were shrugging on a new set of clothes. For a second, as the nearest centipede reared up, its broken shell still leaking, he looked into its eyes and saw something else looking back at him. Something else that was definitely a meanie, a meanie that wanted to hurt and destroy. Then the moment was gone and the glow settled into the dull minded stare that was usual in Jeremiah's creations. Thorian shivered.

"I don't think your god is very nice," he said to Jeremiah.

"Now my dear Thorian," Jeremiah smiled, "That is hardly a good thing to say about the god that has helped save us more times than I can count. After all, he has provided us with all these extra hands." Jeremiah gestured to the dead eyed Ash Elves and the centipedes that were now ranging themselves beside them.

"Aye, I know," Thorian shifted uncomfortable, "But sometimes people help you out for no good reason. Sometimes they help you out 'cause they want something out of you afterwards and they know you wouldn't give it if they just asked for it. They want to have a chain on you and that's the ones who just use you good feeling for people to muck you up. You're talking about a god. They have all sorts of those scroll things that you put your mark on and then they have you forever, you can't ever say no."

"What you are talking about old boy are contracts," Ulrich interrupted, "Contracts and bargains and deals. Now usually gods don't go in for that sort of thing but with some of the darker gods you have to wonder if there is any difference between them and the other side of the coin."

"Well that is the thing," Jeremiah smiled, "The thing people forget about coins. Yes you have two sides but you also have the edge between them and in that edge, well perhaps you have malevolent gods and caring demons."

"Aye perhaps," Ulrich agreed, "But you have to ask, which one is your god?"

"I'll have you know that the Abbey were firm believers in Father Amater, god of light and creation," Jeremiah bowed.

"Of course they were," Ulrich noted, "But that doesn't tell us who your god is."

"My dear Ulrich, what a thing to suggest," Jeremiah smiled as Hat fluttered down and perched on his miter, "Are you suggesting you suspect me of being a heretic?"

"Suggest nothing," Ulrich said bluntly, "Raising the dead is not part of Amater's preview."

"Ah but does not the holy texts say that all things are possible with Amater?" Jeremiah replied, "That if you have faith enough you can tell the mountains 'go, throw yourselves into the sea and they will do so'?  Next to making mountains move surely reanimating the dead is such a little thing?"

"I think we should give up, Thorian old pal," Ulrich said wryly to the orc crossbreed, "We are never going to get a straight answer out of him and I'm not even sure that I want a clear answer out of him. I'm beginning to wonder if it the sort of stuff that just might break our minds."

"Er, what does that mean?" Thorian asked, scatching an ear, "How can answer be clear? Do you ever have cloudy answers? And how can your mind get broken?"

"When talking to Jeremiah, yes, you most certainly do have cloudy answers," Ulrich smiled as he turned his mount towards the only tunnel that lead out of the cavern, its many, many legs scrapping and scratching over the stone floor, "As for breaking someone's mind - well some get their minds broken by a big event like a war or a disaster, some its lots of little things building up over and over again, until they don't have the strength to bare it any more and some unfortunately have their minds broken quite deliberately by other people who enjoy harming others."

Thorian frowned and then shook his head.

"Sorry, I still don't understand wot you mean," he admitted as he feel into step beside Ulrich.

"Some people go through some stuff that changes them forever," Ulrich tried to explain, "And not in a good way. They lose their trust in other people, they lose their ability to be calm and steady around others or even around themselves, they lose the ability to know danger from safety. Come to think of it - Sweety Rod."

"What about him?" Thorian asked as he had to step forward to stay close to Ulrich but not beside him as the tunnel walls closed in around them. He peered into the gloom ahead. He wasn't sure but there seemed to be light up ahead.

"The way he constantly twitches, the way he's constantly ready to bolt, the way that he freezes up half way through talking to you," Ulrich bent his head to avoid knocking it on a low part of the roof, "There is a man who has seen far too much in far too short a space of a time to cope with it all. Part of me wonders what he's been through, the rest of me says I'd rather not know."

"So what has this to do with Jerry's not telling us what god he's praying to?" Thorian asked over his shoulder, frowning even more than ever. There was definitely light ahead but it wasn't the usual sort of light, it was blue.

"Because sometimes knowledge is enough to break your mind," Ulrich explained, "There are tales of books that wizard's have chained shut or buried in lead caskets in the bottom of the ocean because they were scribbled by mad men and the insanity leaks from them to any who touch them."

"That would certainly explain the fun and games we had back in the mushroom cavern," Kaelin called out from behind them, where she was walking along with the goblins swarming around her feet, "If Jerry," she sniggered, "Has been dabbling around with books penned by the King in Mellow then it is not surprising that he disputes the right to breath without his gods permission. It would also explain why his god doesn't have many followers."

"My dear Kaelin, are you pocking fun at my god?" Jeremiah's face smiled but something unpleasant stirred in the depths of his eyes.

"I don't have to," Kaelin replied, "You did a fine enough job of that yourself when you went all dribbly at the edges. How's the hat dried out?"

"I will have you know that this miter is a badge of office..." Jeremiah began, lifting a hand to his head gear as he stumped along.

"That you stole the very first night I knew you," Kaelin replied, "And people accuse me of being light fingered. At least the only stuff I steal is food and clothing. Anything else is too difficult to get rid of."

The locket knocked against her collar bones in a sharp reminder that she'd taken a few other things from the Wizard's Tower. She rubbed at it.

"Everyone's a critic," she muttered under her breath and then her mouth dropped open as the walls opened out and the light washed over them. It was blue and purple, shining from the great shelves of the bracket fungus that sprouted from the walls around them, the color rippled were bands of darker color passed through the flesh of the fungus. The way was still not wide and seemed to branch, one going to their right and the other straight ahead. Ulrich nudged his mount on wards but Thorian stood and peered into the glow down the right hand way.

"There's something down there," he muttered and stepped forward into the glow.

"My dear Thorian," Jeremiah called, "I really don't think that splitting the party is a good..."

Chittering and chattering the goblins followed their bigger cousin down the side passage, wandering towards whatever it was that had caught Thorian's eye. Jeremiah dropped his hand with a sigh and then gestured to bring his puppets in line to form up around him in a protective huddle.

Thorian stopped short and stared at them. "Well you don't see that everyday of the week," he said after a moment.

The... things slowly turned round to regard him, blocky broad heads swinging ponderously on the ends of their long necks. Their long, bowed legs lifted and stepped with deliberation, each step accompanied by a creaking, cracking sound like potty under stress. They back were great domed humps that seemed to be covered in something that from the distance looked like fur but closer up.

"They've got plants growing out of them," Thorian called out, "They've got all these little plants growing out of their backs." With the noise of crunching, crackling pottery, their long necks stretched out even longer and a snorting blowing noise came from them.

"You're cute," Thorian gave one of them a pat. It turned its head slightly to regard him out of an eye that didn't blink and shone with the light of a well banked fire. The other opened its mouth slowly and exhaled a breath that smelt of deep forest loam and well turned earth. It hung there gaping at him.

"You hungry?" Thorian asked and reached up a hand, "Here you go." He pulled a lump of fungus down and split it apart. The two things creaked and cracked and then closed their beaky mouths over the offerings. They ruminated over the offerings and swallowed with the sound of water going down a wide ceramic drain. They gaped for some more.

"You're so cute," Thorian grinned, "Wish I could keep you." He tipped another chunk of fungus down the waiting mouths.

"I think they would be a little slow there, old boy," Ulrich called as he nudge his mount further along the tunnel he had chosen, "I'm not sure that they would be able to keep up with us. Oh..." He'd nudged the centipede a little further forward and stopped in surprise. Another group of the creatures slowly lifted their heads from whatever they were doing to gaze at him with their almost unnerving gaze. With a creaking, cracking gate, one of them stumped into view from a tunnel a little way further up the right hand wall.

"Er, Thorian," Ulrich called, "Can you see a tunnel any where near you?"

"What do you mean tunnel?" Thorian called back as he continued to pet the pottery creatures., "The cave just curves round to where you are gabbling at me."

"It's not a dividing way," Jeremiah interrupted, "It's a supporting pillar blocking our view. That is one supporting pillar and a half. I wonder how many centuries it took to grow."

"What do yah mean grow," Thorian half turned back, "Stone don't grow you numty. Trees grow, animals grow, even slimes grow but not stone. I thought you were more clever than that."

"I hate to break it to you, my dear Thorian," Jeremiah said through clenched teeth, "But some stones like limestone do grow but very,very slowly, rather like your brain." Thorian didn't raise to the bait so Kaelin elbowed Jeremiah for him.

"Ow!" Jeremiah jerked away from her, "My dear Kaelin, what on Hestia was that for?"

"For you being unpleasant and inconsiderate," Kaelin said flatly, "And yes I do actually know what those words mean."

"I most assuredly know that," Jeremiah smiled, rubbing his side, "But I'm not so sure that our esteemed friend Thorian understands them. Do you Thorian?" Thorian didn't answer, apparently fascinated by something up near the ceiling. "I do say old boy, there is no need to be rude."

"No, no there isn't" Thorian agreed, slowly reaching up for the handle of his sword, "But tell me, is there a need for something large, hairy and with eight legs?"

"No!" Jeremiah snapped, "No there really isn't!"

The spider pounced, its weight and speed nearly bowling Thorian over. The pottery golems creaked and cracked, turning with their ponderous steps to avoid the hairy monstrosity as it closed with Thorian. Thorian roared as he blade flashed in the blue light, the swing arches, too artless to wound, driving the spider back counter clock-wise round the column.

The goblins yelped and yelled as they spotted the dog sized spiders closing in with Thorian's unprotected flank. They threw themselves forward, screeching and punching, some even scrambling up the walls to close with their foes. One spider at the back, apparently smarter than the rest, came to a stop as it witnessed this craziness and then turned and scuttled back into the shadows of the ceiling, disappearing above the layers of bracket fungus. The others closed with the goblins with hunger shining in their eyes.

Ulrich prodded his mount onwards, swinging it round the supporting pillar clock-wise, veering round the pottery golems that shuffled and creaked around him.

"Thorian," he called, "This is no time to be playing with a new pet, we need to get on." The cracking of pottery in high distress sounded behind him. Ulrich turned his head and the dark mass blotted out his vision.

Jeremiah pulled himself up to his full height and grinned, calling on his god's name as he muttered a prayer for destruction and agony. He clicked the fingers of both hands, expecting the embers and sparks to form in the air around his fingers. The light, bright and red in the blue glow, formed... and winked out.

As Thorian's sword crashed into the spider, breaking pieces off, Jeremiah stared at his hands in consternation and clicked his fingers again. The light flared... and died. He clicked his fingers again and again. Each time the light formed and died with little snaps and pops that almost sounded mocking. He looked up even as Haggis roared into life at his side... and one of his own puppetted Ash Elves turned its head and pocked its tongue out. He felt himself go cold as he saw what looked out of its eyes at him. His god had enjoyed the slaughter but he, Jeremiah hadn't taken an active enough hand in it. His god wanted blood to be split in his name by Jeremiah's own hand, not through the hands of his puppets. Jeremiah needed to step into the striking distance but who would haul him out of that fire if it was too close and something struck back. His puppets might but he had already lost one this very day. It suddenly dawned on him just how much he had made his teammates despise him.

Ulrich screamed out of sight.

"Oh Globers!" Jeremiah swore, turned and found his way blocked by the bodies of his own puppets. "Get out of my way!" he snarled, physically pushing them with his hands to try and make them moved faster. With a distressed groan one of the pottery golems nearest the fight between Ulrich the thing that had attacked him shook itself, sending a cloud of sparkling seeds billowing up from its shell. The thing paused for a moment and sneezed but then it bit again.

"Oi!" Thorian roared, "Get off mah friend!" The huge spider turned its head to look at him, making Ulrich cry out again as its fangs dragged in his flesh. It hadn't quite got him in the neck but he hadn't moved fast enough to totally avoid its bite, its venomous teeth dug into the big muscle in his upper arm, the flesh around the puncture wounds already turning dark and oozing. Ulrich's sword clattered against the stone floor and his head flopped forward as his mount bucked and hissed, threatening to crawl out from under him as the spider's column like legs tapped, tapped, tapped around it.

Thorian scrambled up and over the dead back of the first spider, even as the goblins finished pulling apart their foes, waving spider legs above their heads in victory. The huge spider yanked its fangs from Ulrich's arm, letting him drop on to the back of the centipede, where he hung on, eyes half closed in pain as the he started shivering, teeth clattering in his head. Without being told the centipede turned like a string of mine carts on rails and headed for the only viable tunnel out of the cavern, heading further into the maze by pure chance as the way back was most assuredly blocked.

Thorian climbed to the top of the dead arachnid, paused for a second as the behemoth still standing charged towards him and then launched himself into a flying leap towards it. His blade smashed through its head with a crunch that echoed through the cave and he stumbled to a stop on its back as it crashed down on to its deceased twin.

"How is he?" he called down to where Jeremiah was trying to marshal his puppets into following Ulrich as the back end of the centipede disappeared into the tunnel mouth.

"Not sure," Jeremiah panted, "I'm not sure his mount is likely to stop."

"Ah cack," Thorian cussed and slid down the spider's side. His foot landed on something that went clang against the rock below it. He frowned as he looked and then bent to fetch it up. Ulrich's elf made, fae granted blade shone in the fungus light. With a grin he went to follow Jeremiah's sweating bulk into the tunnel. The grin faded as he catch moment out of the corner of his eye. Something was forcing its way out through the gap in the spider's leg joint. Thorian peered closer. The thing opened out two little, rounded leaves and flapped gently at him. Thorian's eyes went wide as he realized that it wasn't the only one, others were forcing their way out though the gaps in the spider's hardened skin and then its hair stirred as the rampant growth forced its way out through its skin.

"We need to go," he said backing up, "We really need to go!" He turned on his heel and dashed for the tunnel.

"Where is Thunder Warrior?" the goblin leader squeaked, gazing in wonder at the mountain of dead spider. Some of his companions were not so restrained, hacking into the mountain with their little knives and claws, pulling lumps and chunks of legs free, chattering with glee. Kaelin was about to turn her nose up and then noticed that the pottery golems were creaking their way closer to the heap, beaky mouths snipping dainty chunks out of the pile. She shrugged, remembering everything down here was a resource for something else. She froze, remembering that everything down here was a resource for something else. Thorian was most definitely right.

"This way," Kaelin called, "Our boy with the centipede horse has managed to get himself injured and we need to be some where else before the..." The blue glow flooded into the cave, a shimmering stream that flooded across the floor. Kaelin slapped them desperately from her legs and the goblins started squeaking as the kervead's broke over them like a wave.

"They bite! They bite!" they howled. Even the stoic pottery golems seemed to be upset by the sudden flood of glaring brightness. First one and then the other, creaked a croaking cry and shook itself, causing clouds of glittering seeds to swell in great dome shapes around them.

"We need to go now!"Kaelin barked, hopping from one foot to the other. The goblins scurried to her, yelping and yipping, slapping the glowing blue bugs from themselves as they ran, a couple sneezing as they went. Some how they made it out for the tsunami of biting, nipping insects, hands slapping at each other as well as themselves as they tried to haul away some they bounty minus the bugs. They gained the shelter of the tunnel with some of the glow still clinging to them. Kaelin slapped the last one on her leg off and watched it bounced away, only to start as a goblin pounced on it.

"What..." she started. The goblin popped it in his... hers... honestly it was difficult to say... mouth and bite down. The glow faded out as she saw the other goblins pull kerveads off of various parts of themselves and their dripping booty and chewed them down like children who had been sprinkled with candies.

"Not all, not all, you ninny hammers," the goblin leader barked, slapping a few over the lug holes and snatching the kerveads out of their fingers. He stalked to the head of the bunch and held the insects up. Kaelin fought to keep her expression neutral as she realized what the little goblin was doing. It really wasn't comforting to see the bugs writhing slowly in his grip, it reminded her too much of maggots on the end of a hook.

Following the faint glow of the bugs held aloft by the goblin, they made their way down the tunnel until a more orange-yellow flickering light took over. The goblin leader peered ahead then, once he was satisfied that the light was true, he stuffed both bugs into his mouth and chewed happy. Kaelin closed her eyes and swallowed at the pop that sounded out.

It wasn't really a cave they found themselves in, more of a wider space where the tunnel bent round a double corner, arching first right and then left. It was wide enough for a small stove to be set up and filled with oil, giving off a warm light and enough heat for Thorian to be setting up a tin mugful of water to boil on its top.

"We need to stop," he said glancing up, his faced worried, "Ulrich isn't good."

"Um," Kaelin looked round and saw the living centipede surrounded by the knot of its reanimated fellows while puppeted Ash Elves stood sentry at the bend in the tunnel. As Kaelin and the goblins stepped in closer, other Ash Elves to up positions at the bend they had just come round.

Then Kaelin saw Ulrich. She put a hand to her mouth.

He was laying on his right side, the sleeve of his tunic cut away to reveal the injury in his upper arm. Muscle tissue should not be black with rot and skin should not ooze green and yellow as it curls back from an injury. Ulrich shivered on the blankets that had been piled up under him, eyes fever bright.

"Oh come on, come on," Jeremiah muttered, hands riffling through his pack, "I'm sure I saw... Ah ha."

He pulled out a box and flicked it open to reveal rank and files of vials, stoppered and labelled. He started lifting them out and popping them back.

"No, no, no. No! Oh come on there has to be something... here!" He pulled one out the full way and popped the stopper out. "Kaelin," he ordered, "Help me with this!" For once she didn't argue with the fat priest, scooting over and helping to roll Ulrich on to his back and hold his head still so Jeremiah could tip the contents of the vial down his throat. Some of the color came back into his face but he was still shaking and the wound in his shoulder seemed no better.

"Its not enough," Jeremiah muttered, "Damn!"

"Should you watch your language?" Kaelin asked, trying to distract herself from the fact that Ulrich appeared to be dying in front of her eyes.

"Seeing as my god is feeling a little temperamental right now and I am about to lose one of our best fights, then I don't really think so," Jeremiah snapped as he dug back into the case of vials. He flicked a look at one and then read it more fully.

"Kaelin, if I hand you the set of small knives I've found in my pack, would you start heating them up in the lamps flame please?" he asked reading the label for the seeond time, "And Thorian, would you come here and hold Ulrich down, please? If needs be lay on him, I just need to be able to reach the injury site."

"What are you up to?" Thorian asked, wrapping a bandage around his own leg, binding a deep gouge that he hadn't noticed taking in the heat of the moment.

"This will work to neutralize the poison but the, to quote, 'corrupted tissue must be exercised first'," Jeremiah looked a little unnerved, "Guess I'm going to have to put some of my training to good use. Never wanted to be involved in the infirmary..." He trailed off.

Wordlessly, Kaelin started holding the small but razor sharp knife blade in the flame of the lamp.

It was unpleasant.

Ulrich screamed a great deal to begin with and then seemed to pass out as chunks and lumps of blackened, gooey tissue was lifted from the hole in his arm, the spider's venom having eaten deeply into the muscle below the skin. After each lump with lifted out, Kaelin dripped a little of the potion into the space just vacated, in between heating knives in the lamp flame. Even one of the goblins was roped into help, holding a thieves lantern to aim the light at the gaping wound so Jeremiah could see what needed to be removed. Kaelin wasn't sure but at one point she was sure that she could see bone gleaming yellow and grey in the depth of the injury. And every drip of potion smoked. Finally Jeremiah sat back on his hunches.

"Right, pour the rest of it in there," He wiped a sleeve over his forehead and poured the mug of hot water over his hands before reaching for the bandages, "I want it well flushed out."

Ulrich jerked and moaned, even in his unconsciousness, as the last of the potion was poured into the hole in his arm.

Jeremiah didn't bother unrolling the first bandage, just pushing the whole roll into the wound end first and then pouring another potion marked 'For Healing' on top of it. He bound the second bandage around Ulrich's upper arm.

"Why'd you do that?" Thorian asked as he sat up from holding Ulrich still, "How's it supposed to heal like that?"

"Its called packing the injury," Jeremiah washed his hands again, "If we don't the skin will heal over the top of the void and leave it to fill up with fluid. After that, well it would be a miracle if it doesn't poison his blood. As it is, I've done everything I know how to do." He put another cup on to boil and sat leaning back against the wall of the tunnel come cave.

After a moment, Kaelin pulled a bread roll out of her pack and handed it to him.

"Here," she said, "Get that into you and then get some rest. Thorian and I will take first watch, make sure those bugs don't come sniffing for Ulrich."

"That is really rather considerate of you, my dear," Jeremiah managed to claw back some of his oily smile.

"Look, I know you only saved his life 'cause you are scared of being left down here without protection if your god decides to leave you high and dry but, well," she gave a one shouldered shrug, "You did good just now so don't push it."

And for once he took a hint and laid down without another word, his rumbling snores soon punctuating the silence. Kaelin stood up and walked to the bend of the tunnel where they had come from, eyes open from any sign of the kervead's blue glow. She looked down as something brushed her hand. The goblin leader looked up at her, sympathy in his eyes.

"You got a name?" she asked.

"Thank you," it said.

"That's your name?" she raised an eyebrow.

"Nah," he shook his head so hard his ears rattled, "Thank you for thinking goblin have name worth knowing. I is Stink of the Midden."

"Wow, cool parents," Kaelin said wryly.

"You mis-under-stand," the goblin said the word with noticeable effort, "Goblin not give name by life givers. Goblin given name by first place he nearly died."

Kaelin didn't say anything else, just took his bony, knobbly, scarred hand and held it as they waited out the long dark of the under ground.

Hestia Locator - Lotton

 So, with the third missed play session comes the third alternative blog post, this time curtsy of the Hestia Locator, a weighty tome created by the renowned explorer Marcus Poli-Poli and constantly updated by his descendants as they keep up their three times great grandfather's work.

The Encyclopedia of all the observations and information gathered by the clan, all the major public and private libraries have a copy that is updated as new revisions are added. King Tatsuya regularly refers to his own copy to better understand the players in the never ending game of international chess.

Hestia Locator

Lotton

 

Situated in the middle of the southern border Provence of Portasia, Lotton is notable for being situated on the Western shore of the Great Lake. This body of fresh water is one of the largest in the world. Myth would have us believe that it was excavated by the 'Watchers in the Water' to give them an inland strong hold. Legend states that it was formed during the dragon war, went those dragons, mortally wounded in one of their battles, fell from the sky and exploded. Men of science believe that it was formed in a long forgotten era when ice ground its way across the face of the continent and gouged out a deep trench in the softer layers of bedrock, which was larger filled and expanded by water. Men of religion state that it was a gift formed in the days of creation by the gods choosing this as the place to rest from their labors and thus sinking the land with their great weight.

No matter its origin the Great Lake forms a massive reservoir of fresh water so deep that the fishermen who plum its depths have spoken of discovering fish that have white eyes, so use are they to swimming beyond the reach of the light. Taking two days to cross by boat to Nether Wallop at its Eastern end and three to cross North to South, it is only logical that many of the locations near to the lake rely on boats for communication and travel. By these means Lotton has become a transport and trade hub of the region with goods being shipped back and forth across the lake from its docks. 

 Lotton is protected by a curtain wall that embraces three sides of the town, the fourth being open for the docks. The curtain wall is built of sandstone and studded with many guard towers that some times double as extra guard houses for the City Watch. The North side of the town is also protected by the Nayen River that runs within feet of the foundation  stones of the curtain wall. However, there are no  gates in the Northern wall as the attitude of the town council is that anyone with legal business in the town will use either Western Gates that allows entry to the Condessa Road or the docks. As the Dead Swamp on the North side of the River Nayen has an unsavory reputation, this attitude is perfectly understandable. 

The docks stretch from North to South along the lake shore and have no less than three Watch Houses interspersed along that length. Internally the town is divided into four districts. The largest of these is the Warehouse district that back the docks and makes at least a third of the town. Warehouses closest to the center of the town are cheaper to rent but include the inconvenience of shifting the stock to and from the water front.

The North West of third of the town is the Residential District where many merchant princes have their mansions and not a few nobles maintain houses and travel here during the summer months when the heat and scent of the Capital can become rather noxious. These buildings are set back from pleasant, wide paved roads, surrounded by pale walls and landscaped gardens, some with water features, others with the panoramas of other Provenances of the country, or in some cases whole other countries, laid out around them. During the Session many parties, Balls and events are hosted at these residences.

The South West District is more unfortunate than its Northern neighbor. This District is the home of the laborer class in Lotton and unfortunately reflects the lack of care that many laborers face through out their lives. Streets here are narrow, often too small for a horse cart and over shadowed by the upper levels of the houses that crowd in from every side. If the streets were once paved that paving is now buried under decades if not centuries of rubbish and rot. The smell is often over whelming. The houses are themselves in less than optimal condition and there have been several attempts to improve the area but so far nothing has stuck, with efforts being hindered by just how many people are crammed per house and therefore how many would have to be rehoused until repairs could be completed. The buildings are often three storeys high and a whole family, if not two, can be crammed into each storey right up to the attic space, creating a nightmare for the town authorities who fear a fire ripping though the area.

The last district is the Central District and is the smallest, centering on the Town square, a clear space around the Cathedral and bordered by the official buildings of the town, including the Governors Palace, the courthouse, the residences of the town officials and the largest Watch House. The main streets runs from the Central District to the double Western Gate and is lined with most of the shops that actually sell within Lotton. The southern row of these shop/houses are what has been successfully upgraded from the South West District.

 Places of Interest

 Hognail's Wagon and Wheels

 A well appointed shop set in row that separates the twin streets that come from the double gate and well located beside the Watch House of King's row (as it is known). Hognail himself is a sturdy dwarf of middle years, for his people, that has specialized in the ironmongery necessary for the construction of vehicles. Under him are several human partners who are not named on the business sign, for the simple reason that Hognail has out lived several human partners and constantly (in his eyes at least) changing the business name would be a fiddle he's not prepared to deal with. The current business partners are a pair of twins that Hognail sponsored through their apprenticeships in carpentry who handle the wood working side of the business, while Hognail handles the forge. A hard bargainer but his work is always of top quality. Well worth a visit for anyone in need of a new vehicle or who wishes to sell a vehicle. A word of advice, do not try to cheat him, his fist can hit like a thunderbolt and the local Watch is of the opinion that the injuries of someone who tried to cheat Hognail are self inflicted.

 Sweety Rod's Enterprises

 Opposition Hognail's Wagon and Wheels is Sweety Rod's Enterprises, a horse shop of some repute. Sweety Rod himself is a human of a nervous disposition, whose hair seems to have permanently been struck by lightning. Constantly anxious and shy to the point of paralysis, Sweety could be described as having more twitches than a bag full of cats, until he lays his hands on a horse. Once he is dealing with a creature that has fingers for legs all his twitches disappear and he becomes firm and steady, able to state his opinion without tremor or falter.

Not only does he trade in horse but he is also a horse doctor of some noted ability and has managed to save beasts that others would have given up on and left to die. This could be because he hates having to put any horse out of its misery. It is noted that he has had a miniature, spring powered crossbow created for this purpose, which can drop a horse in a fraction of a second without a sound and he is extremely competent when he uses it but his twitches come back worse than ever when he has too. All in all he is a gentle soul, that only bargains hard because he has to have the funds needed to lavish the care he does upon the beasts under his gaze. That and if someone has spent a fair amount of money on the animal then they are unlikely to mistreat it and waste those funds. Expensive but worth every penny as Sweety Rod does not sell dud horses.

The King's Sword Public House

A large Public House and Inn run by the dwarfs Berrum Stonebreaker and his wife Maggun, the King's Sword is reasonable priced and well appointed, with comfortable rooms with proper beds and a chimney system that runs from the kitchen up through the center of the house, spreading the warmth to every room. Berrum handles the tap room and locals have learnt to watch their intake if they are the sort to become rowdy on too much ale as he is perfectly capable of picking up a man many times his size and convince them to leave. Maggun has over sight of the kitchens and also runs a laundry service for those willing to pay. There is also a small suite of bathrooms available for hire and hot water. It is noted that the King's Sword has the cleanest floor, stable yard and front step of any establishment in the town and is probably due to the fact that the bath water has a second use as a solution to scrub down the aforementioned places. Both Berrum and Maggun economize where ever they can to keep the prices down so that the residents of the South West quarter can continue to afford to come in and use their facilities. The only issue with the King's Sword is that Berrum has strong feelings about orcs and orc crossbreeds, having lost many family members in several wars with the mountain clans, though this finally seems to be mellowing in recent years. Definitely worth a stay if you are traveling through.

Dippler's Pie Shop

 A small, weedy, weaselly looking gentleman commonly dressed in a polka dot neck tie and a battered top hat, Dippler started his career as a 'from the tray' vendor of hot pies but has since moved up to owning a premises of his very own, complete with veil fronted counter to keep the flies off of his produce. Featuring both steady recipes and a seasonal menu, Dippler opens earlier and closes late, catering to the less fortunate of the town and visitors passing through with hot and filling pies and pastries, usually freshly cooked and still steaming from the oven. How he manages to keep up such a steady stream of baking while managing to front the shop at the same time is a mystery possibly best left unasked after but no one can argue with the flavors of his produce. He is also a friend of Sweety Rod, possibly the man's only friend and usually the only one who can calm him after a very bad day.

The Battered Bugle

Situated on the southern most end of the water front, the Battered Bugle is an unusual establishment in that it is the only one that serves a beverage of a non-alcoholic nature. Despite this sounding like a crazy business move for a dock side ale-house the Battered Bugle does surprisingly well on the strength of this drink, concocted as it is out of ginger root extract and the juice of Scots Bonnet peppers. Strong enough to strip the lining off your throat, burn your tongue off at the roots and build a bonfire in your stomach, the drink has become the subject of a dock side drinking game as sailors dare each other to drink enough of it to make them spit fire like a dragon.

The Armored Dragon

A larger ship than most that berth in the docks of Lotton, the Armored Dragon started her life on salt water, only coming to the shipping lanes of the Great Lake in recent years as her Captain fancied a retirement that didn't involve him giving up sailing all together. Captain is all the name you will pry out of him and he is as much part of the Armored Dragon as the ship is his. Broad shouldered and quietly spoken, Captain's steel grey eyes look out of a dark, weather beaten face with a unassuming power that makes you want to listen to him. He is never far from his ship and is usually accompanied by his familiar Risk, an albatross of truly immense dimensions that seems to understand more of what people say than one would credit.

The Grey Clerks Archives - Kaelin

 Well the stream of bad luck with health problems have continued so that we didn't have a game session two weeks ago and we didn't have a game session this week either. It is also why this blog post has been four days late to hit the metaphorical book shelves. This is the thing with having family members who have chronic health issues - the interesting times never end.

Lacking the game session to inspire the next chapter of Draconic Shennanigans I have instead complied some of the paperwork that crosses King Tatsuya's desk, this sample from the Grey Clerks (so called because they are so nondescript that you never notice that they are there, some times until it is too late). King Tatsuya prefers to be the shepherd of the future but that does not mean he is unwilling to be its butcher and will take what ever precautions he feels necessary. After all, if you take enough precautions, you then don't have to take the sort of precautions that others would find... distasteful. It is no wonder he and Hartseer get along, they share a very similar world view.

Saying that, let's drive in.

Person of Interest

Name: Kaelin (last name unknown/ doubtful she has one).

 Age: Unsure, probably early to mid twenties.

Birth place: Greely Creek

Race: Tainted/ Change beast/ puca born

Family: Father: Unknown, Mother: Unknown, Grandfather: Donovan Ratcliff (recent intelligence indicates this maybe an assumed name).

Profession: Career Thief, low tier. Kaelin is more likely to steal a loaf of bread or a pie off of a window sill than try to steal the contents of a safe box. Though she has shown some skills with lock picks and climbing, her level of trust inhibits her from taking things that are hard to pass off in payment for bed, board or clothing as she is unwilling to approach possible fences, fearing betrayal. Could be an asset, if properly trained and equipped, abroad in the capacity of a deniable agent as her paranoia would inhibit her from passing off her discovers to those outside of her handlers.

Location: Of no fixed abode. Kaelin does not seem to currently have a home as such, bedding down in temporary accommodation when she is in inhabited areas. So far her movements seem to have wandered south of the River Nayen that runs between Lotton and Condessa, never staying in a single area for long due her predilection to being light fingered and her lack of skills necessary to gain long term employment.

Skills: Climbing, running, she favors a short sword or dagger in a fight. She does appear to have a spattering of reading and writing and recent events have revealed a talent for the playing of less complicated wind instruments.

Appearance: Kaelin is a skinny youngish woman with pale skin, black hair and usually dark eyes. This can however change as Kaelin is descended in recent generations from bloodlines tainted by werewolf stock. As such she can summon a partial change of form. This is a limited change however, with the most notable features being the growth of lupine jaws and teeth, claws and a change of eye color to wolf yellow. She also demonstrates increased speed, agility and strength during these changes, as well as an over whelming need for a razor. Her change is not limited to the hours of the night and she seems to keep a portion of her mind while changed, able to recognized non-tainted allies in battle and refrain from attacking them. The trade off to these benefits is that she is not as powerful as a full blooded werewolf but as she is able to plan ahead and strategize she is often more affective in a fight.

Her clothes are often dirty and unkempt but are strictly practical - dark trousers, a once white shirt and a green leather jerkin with a hood. Since visiting the Wizard's Tower in the Dead Swamp she has acquired a golden locket that she appears to speak to and a pair of 'climbing gloves' that have added to her skills in scaling the sides of buildings. It is suspected that she liberated several small items as well while she was there. She also obtained a set of bagpipes that she has taken to referring to as Haggis. It appears that this instrument unlocked a buried talent for creating music and maybe of a magical nature, as Kaelin seems to be able to either bolster her allies or intimidate her enemies with her music.

History: What is known for sure of Kaelin's history is that she was born in the area of Greely Creek to a son of the notorious werewolf cult leader Donovan Ratcliff. Whether or not her mother and grandmother were also infected by the werewolf curse is unclear but is most probable due to Ratcliff's quasi-religious views. Ratcliff's cult firmly believes in the 'superiority of nature' and believe themselves to be the embodiment of that superiority, that they are the 'perfect race' and have the divine providence to claim all human land for themselves. They had been building themselves an enclave in Greely Creek and had been raiding into the surrounding area.

Though there was consideration at the time as to whether they could be used to neutralize the 'issue' at the Wizard's Tower, it was ultimately decided that they were just too dangerous to be recruited to the King's Special and were slated to be put down. The difficulties in over coming their defenses were solved when the door was opened from the inside. It is speculated that Kaelin may well have been the one to open the door.

The visit to the Wizard's Tower has revealed a greater possible depth to Kaelin's lineage than was suspected. The painting of one Charlotte Susan Darling recognized a family resemblance to Kaelin and spoke of her cousin, one Don van Ranchiff, who disappeared following an animal attack a month before Charlotte's brother, last heir of the main Darling line, was murdered. Apparently Don van was the sort of boy who scared his mother and earned the disdain of his father due to Don van's cruelty to animals and some nasty incidences involving the servant girls of the Ranchiff estate, not to mention the fact that he terrified his own sister, who had to be sent to a relative of her father's for her health. After the main Darling line was deceased this nervous sister was taken from her family but no communication was sent to them. There was no ransom note or any indication as to who had taken her, to quote "it was like she vanished from the face of Hestia". If this connection can be proved then it would enable the crown to hand back the estates of both the Ranchiff and Darling families to a bloodline descendant. It is the opinion of your agent that Kaelin would be unsuited to regular appearances at court but as a defender of some of the eastern mountain passes she would probably excel, as well as providing a tract of land were the more unusual of your Majesty's subjects could find a home without causing comments. 

Further reports will be sent pending developments.