Border tensions along the Riverland Baronies may be stoked into conflict by roving bandits and unorganized thieves. Guild protected caravans are being waylaid and local commoners are kidnapped. Who is behind these events? More importantly, who will stop them? (Part One of the Kelwyn's Keys series)
The mud caked walls along the main road opens up to the primary market in the Town Square. Plumb, dirty pigeons are shooed away by children swinging sticks. The beating of their wings is drowned out by the haggling of nearby merchants. There’s a quiet, plump fellow selling wonderfully spiced meats-on-a-stick and sweet tea. The sign above his cart reads “Palin’s Spiced Meats” in bold letters. The merchant set up several benches for his customers to sit on while they eat. Several glass pitchers full of sweet tea warm in the sun atop his cart. Palin pours himself a glass while he waits for his next customer.
A small girl dressed in plain-looking farming clothes chews the last of her spiced meat. Looking up, she sees interesting strangers. She walks up to the tall human adorn in green clothing. She stares at the stranger for several minutes. Finally, she smiles and taps the stranger on the arm. The young girl says, “I’m Gerta, what’s thy name, good sir?”
The tall human looks down, ‟I am Bandric Banehallow. Nice to meet thee, young lady.” He gestures to his companions, ‟This is Priestess Chalándril, Gûltar Grimstone, Merimonwë, Tolok, and this is the adorable Kotyka.” The half-ork blushes.
“My daddy says I shouldn’t talk to strangers. They might be scary. Are you scary?” She looks down the street and points. “What are those things? They don’t look like humans or dwarves to me. They look scary.”
Bandric turns and sees three goblins in the alley climbing into an open window. Gûltar draws his axe and starts running. ‟I better get over now. I need a head start.”
Kotyka hoist Tolok into her arms and starts running too. Bandric nocks an arrow. Chalándril puts her hand on his arm. ‟Not in town. There are innocent bystanders.”
Bandric lowers his bow and hustles off with the others. Chalándril bends down and talks to little Gerta. ‟Little one, stay here with the nice man. He’ll keep thee safe. Keep away from creatures like that for thy own safety.”
Gerta nods her head. ‟Chompers will keep me safe.”
Merimonwë and Chalándril rush off to join their companions. Kotyka is the first to arrive. Breek and Entar, two of the goblin thieves, hold a third goblin up as he wiggles into the broken window. Breek cries out in, ‟Some humans are coming. Make it quick!”
Breek drops his hold on Fentar, who legs flail upon the ledge. Entar spins as he draws his ragged edged cleaver. ‟These humans are ruining everything!”
Kotyka drops Tolok, none too gently, slides around the goblins and with an acrobatic flip, lands on the far side of Breek. Her sword drawn and slicing the surprised goblin across the mid section. Entar steps over to protect his partner and attacks Kotyka with his rusty cleaver. The blow of his strike hits Kotyka square on the arm, forcing her to take a step back. Blood dribbles out of her wound.
Gûltar arrives with wide eyes and ax held high. Breek sees the dwarf as he attempts to reposition away from Kotyka. Before Breek can complete his move, Gultar’s ax hews his arm off and rips his chest open. Goblin blood sprays across the alley and Gultar. The dwarf mutters, ‟Forges be damned, I got goblin blood all over my beard.”
Fentar gains his footing in the windowpane. He sees the death of his partner and yells, ‟Thy bearded bastard!”
The goblin leaps from the window onto Gûltar. Fentar’s dagger digs deeply into Gultar’s shoulder. An arrow pierces Fentar’s neck. The goblin slumps off Gûltar and lands on the alley street with a thud. Entar avoids the mighty staff swing by Tolok, only to meet the full face of Chalandril’s mace across his chest. The snapping of ribs sing of Entar’s pending death.
Merimonwë asks, ‟Are any of them alive? We should interrogate one of them.”
A well-dressed, tall fellow approaches the office. His steps are hurried at the sight of armed strangers near his office. As he approaches, he yells to the party, “Who are you people? And what is going on here? Why are there bloody creatures near my broken window?”
Bandric scratches his head, ‟Well, it’s not that long of a story, actually.”
-
The Dungeon Knights sit in the merchant’s office. The well-dressed fellow, Kelwyn, owns the small merchant company and smiles as Chalándril relates the story of the goblins. ‟Oh, very good.” Kelwyn adds, ‟This is fortuitous. The gods’ blessings shine upon me this day. You seem like a tough, professional lot. I’d like to hire you for a small mission.”
‟About a week ago, one of my caravans went missing. It was last seen in Thanhal, across the river, heading here to Chulan. I lost a lot of money, but more importantly, I lost very expensive and important keys. They’re magical keys. I’d like you to find these bandits and recover my keys. I’d like to recover all my goods, too, but the keys are very important to me.”
Tolok strokes his goatee, ‟What do the keys unlock?”
‟Several months ago, I purchased a strange curio, a stone block much like the two you found. After much research, I learned that it was a key to a mysterious door. The mysterious door belongs to a strange, nearly forgotten temple. This temple requires these special keys to open, magic keys. Through informants and other research, I was able to locate two keys and paid for them through a courier. One of my men took possession of the keys and was heading back to deliver them to me. However, the caravan carrying these keys was attacked by bandits. I lost hope of getting the keys.” Kelwyn sits back in his chair. ‟However, you could find the keys for me, defeat the bandits, and earn some money. Of course, I want first pick on fencing any treasure you find.”
Bandric answers, ‟Agreed.”
The Dungeon Knights head to the General Store for provisions and some information. A small, square wood building sports a small sign that reads “Gringel Menk’s Pawnshop”. The door opens easily into a shallow, empty room. There’s a locked door on the right and a long, barred counter that extends to the left. A short line of customers forms at the window, where Gringel processes the order or negotiates prices.
Chalándril approaches the window, ‟Good day, Menk, we’d like to ask thee some questions. We hope thee knowest some answers.”
The customers in line scowl at the elf lady. As the party approaches, the customers notice the arms and armor adorning most of Chalándril’s friends, so the customers back up a few steps. The thin, hollow-cheek man with a hooked nose scoffs. ‟What information do you think I have?”
‟Well, ‟ begins Chalándril, ‟We hope thy knowest something of the bandits around town, or about the goblins.”
‟Hmm,” remarks Menk. His beady eyes look at his palm. His fingers move as if grasping something. ‟Those sound like strange things. How could I know about those things?”
Bandric slams five silver pieces on the counter. ‟For thy itch, Master Menk.”
‟Ah yes,” a cruel smile emerges on Menk’s face. His yellow, crooked teeth revealed by his thin lips. ‟I do seem to recall something about the bandits...and the goblins. You seek the same group.”
Bandric adds three more silver coins to the counter. Menk purses his lips in delight. ‟The little goblins do come in from time to time, at night mostly, to sell their loot for coin. They’re not too good at counting I might add. I give them a fair cut and they’re happy. From my dealings with them, I think they’re living near the old Telshin Farmstead – abandoned earlier this year when the Master Telshin joined the Baron’s army. No one’s been there in months. It’d make a fine spot to hold up for a while. Eh?”
Chalándril turns, ‟Thank thee, Master Menk. Thou hast been a great help.”
‟Would you like to buy a map to his house?”
-
The Dungeon Knights follow the crude map along dirt roads and game paths along the grazing fields. The path forks ahead. One path bends to the right, leading into a dense forest. Eerie noises emanate from those dark sylvan depths. The other path leads to the left into an overgrown farm field. Bandric exclaims, ‟There’s no fork on the map? Which way should we go?”
Chalándril says, ‟I’d say towards the overgrown farm.”
‟I don't’ think either matters.” Merimonwë’s ears perk up. ‟I hear wolves and goblins coming. Their shrill voices are so distinct.”
From the woods comes three wolf-mounted goblins with cleavers held high. The wolves run with tongues out. Gûltar takes out his ax. ‟Here we go again!”
Two arrows fire from Bandric’s bow. The arrows find purchase in the far rider’s chest. ‟That should even the odds in our favor.”
Merimonwë’s eyes glow with green light. ‟Fireball!” She throws a green glowing ball of light towards the wolf-mounted goblins. Boom! Three goblins and three wolves fly into the air from the fiery explosion beneath their legs. The enemies land with a thud.
‟Charge!” yells Gûltar.
The wounded wolves are the first to regain their footing and sprint off towards the woods. Gûltar sets upon the lead goblin and hacks him to bits. Chalándril and Kotyka make short work of the last goblin.
‟Let’s loot and leave.” Bandric instructs.
-
A low fence surrounds a traditional Sumer farmstead. The sturdy farmhouse and large barn dominate the enclosure. There’s a shed, smokehouse, well, and outhouse on the property. Unlike the farm fields, weeds and overgrowth don’t choke this living area. Also, the farmhouse lacks doors.
The barn doors are open, allowing the cool breeze to blow through the stalls. Several goblins sit around a makeshift table playing a dice game. Off to one side is a large wagon with a few boxes. Painted on the side of the wagon is the seal of Kelwyn’s Merchant Company.
Bandric whispers, ‟This must be the place.”
The Dungeon Knights carefully work their way over the low farmstead wall and closer to the barn. Kotyka slips into the shadows and sneaks closer to the talking goblins. Goblins talk around a table. Their voices are shrill and sharp to the ear. The taller goblin wears tattered robes and strokes a pet toad. He looks around with narrowed eyes.
One of the goblins asks, ‟Kio estas tio, Gak?”
A toothy smile emerges on Gak’s face, ‟Warty says we have guests in the barn.”
Kotyka gasps from the shadows. Gak continues, ‟Some are closer than others is seems.”
Gûltar and Bandric move into the bar, followed closely by Chalándril and the others. Gak lifts his arms, says ‟Burning hands”, and a sheet of fire springs forth engulfing Gûltar and Bandric in flames. Gak’s goblin friends leap towards the flames with swords in hand.
Tolok unleashes his magic missiles towards Gak, but they are blocked by an invisible shield. Gak laughs, ‟Is that all thy magical might?”
Kotyka’s sword pierces Gak’s chest from behind. ‟No, it is not.”
Chalándril, Gûltar and Bandric fight the goblins in a pitched battle. Gûltar’s ax beheads two goblins and guts the third. Bandric’s sword drips with goblin blood. He says, ‟Gûltar, leave me something to slay once in a while.”
Gûltar looks at Chalándril’s mace matted with pieces of goblin flesh. ‟Do I have to share with both of you?”
After defeating the goblins, our heroes are left to explore the remaining camp and lair for treasure, supplies and clues. Gûltar drops a large crate on the floor and sighs. “These goblins sure have a lot of crap.”
Kotyka is kneeling on the floor sorting the loot into piles. “Just put the stuff we don’t want here in this pile. Put the other stuff we don’t like over there, out of the way. Only take the things with the most value that we can sell back in town.” She looks over the piles of bric-a-brac, worn goblin armor and scruffy weapons. Thoughtfully she says, “Sometimes I wish we had a few pack mules or a large wagon…or both.”
Bandric nods to the Kelwyn wagon. ‟I’m sure we could make use of this wagon.”
‟But we don’t have any horses or mules.” Chalándril adds, ‟Besides, this wheel is broken.”
In due course, the Dungeon Knights emerge from the barn. Bandric and Gûltar are loaded down with overfilled bags, dragging large sacks, and backpacks bursting at the seams. Tolok mentions, “We could stock a small general store with these things. It is not the windfall we were hoping for but at least it will cover our expenses and provide for a few more weeks.”
Straining under the weight Bandric whimpers, “These backpacks are getting very heavy. Any chance you skinner folk want to lend a hand.” Tolok and Merimonwë look at him blankly.
“Uh”
Gûltar huffs, “Beh, that’s what we get for eating and drinking right. Tiu ke povas, ili havos labori.”
Merimonwë’s ears perk up. “Did you hear that?”
Bandric moans, “It’s just my breathing…or the snapping of my muscles. You needn’t worry. If I collapse under all this crap, at least I’ll be buried properly.”
“No, I think I hear something…else.”
“Now that you mention it, I do hear breathing. Not my breathing.” replies Bandric.
Out of the forest, two wolf riders and a few goblin warriors emerge from the tree line. The wolf pads beating rhythmically on the ground. The heavy breaths of the wolves driving at a steady beat. The larger, well-armored goblin yells, “Vi aŭdacas invadi la hejmon de Penjo Fen la forta? Preĝu nun malamikoj. Mortos vi hodiaŭe!”
The over-burden Gûltar sighs audibly beneath the sacks, boxes and backpack. “They’re attacking us now? We’re too busy for a fight.”
Penjo Fen announces, “Kontraŭulo, vin havas la mortdeziron. Ataku!”
Gûltar slough off the packs and draws his axe with great speed. Well if we have a death wish, now’s a good a time as any, I suppose.”
Bandric tries to drop his load but it unbalances and sends him to the ground. “Gûltar, thou may need to do this thyself.”
Meshtik Nhol, the goblin priest on the other wolf, says, “Timu nian fortegon. Ci estos morti unue, barbaroj!”
-
Penjo Fen charges towards Gûltar, driving the lance towards the defiant dwarf. Gûltar side steps the lance, hewing into pieces. Quickly he spins and slices the wolf across the mid section. The riding wolf collapses in a pile of blood, fur, and dirt. The rider Penjo Fen, however, lands on his feet and quickly draws his sword. Eye to eye, the two short warriors begin a long melee of clashing blades.
Meshtik Nhol, focuses his efforts on supporting Penjo. He rides past the archer Bandric, whacking him with a spiked mace. Reeling from the pain, Bandric is unable to answer the attack. He yells, “We need to focus our attacks. Help Gûltar with his opponent. We’ll deal with the others later.”
Merimonwë looks at the group with intense focus. Chalándril moves to protect the two spellcasters. Tolok begins to summon his support team of astral badgers. Meshtik Nhol circles around towards the incoming goblin gang. He barks some orders and the goblins begin to run towards the Knights.
Merimonwë whispers under her breath, “Come on and clump up.” Meshtik Nhol casts a spell on his forces.
Tolok mentions this, “He is fortifying the warriors. They are much stronger now.” Three of his badgers appear out of nowhere and surround Penjo Fen. “Meri, are thou thinking what I am thinking.”
“Gotcha!” says Merimonwë unconsciously. “Fireball!” A glowing, green ball flies through the air and lands in the midst of the goblins. Instantly, it explodes in a huge ball of fire.
“I guess thou art. Fireball!” commands Tolok. A second glowing ball flies through the air and it too explodes in a ball of scorching hot fire. Out of the smoke, dust and dirt cloud, a lone armored goblin emerges. Blackened by the fire, Meshtik Nhol limps out of the inferno towards the combat. The smoke settles showing the burnt remains of goblins and a wolf scattered in a charred circle.
Merimonwë crosses her arms pridefully. “That worked better than expected.”
Chalándril says, “The priest is still up. We shouldn’t celebrate until the combat is truly over.”
Merimonwë’s eyes tighten. “Fine!”
She shoots a bolt of energy from her hands. It traverses the field in a flash striking the goblin priest in the head. He falls to one knee and then collapses on to the ground. Merimonwë smirks and looks over to Chalándril. “Now can I celebrate?”
Meanwhile, the three badgers distract and agitate Penjo Fen. With his sword, the goblin warrior cuts one badger in half. He turns and stabs a second in the body. Gûltar takes the opportunity to strike Penjo across the body. Defiantly, Penjo counter attacks and swings at the dwarf. Gûltar blocks the strike and drives the pick end into Penjo’s skull right through his helmet. Penjo’s body goes limp.
Chalándril looks over at Gûltar standing over the Penjo’s body, his axe dripping blood. “Yes, now thee can celebrate.”
Kotyka says, “I didn’t understand a thing they were saying. I wish I knew their goblin language.”
Gûltar begins to clean his axe and says, “The leaders aren’t speaking Goblinese. The grunts were. The leaders were speaking our merchant language Koinwer. It’s easier for goblins to learn, than for us to learn their vile languages. Then we don’t have to foul our mouths with their bestial sounds.”
“Where’d they learn Koinwer?”
Gûltar pulls on his beard in thought, “Actually, why are all these goblins so well trained for battle. It’s unlike them. Goblins tend to be more savage and chaotic…and hungry.”
-
Chalándril locates a few small handcarts that the Dungeon Knights confiscate for their use. Bandric and Kotyka search the goblin tents and other buildings around the area. While Bandric is nudging a dead goblin body, he hears a muffled noise. “Does anyone else hear that? There’s something over there.”
He points towards the shed. The Dungeon Knights surround the shed. The sounds of thumping and muffled cries drift from the shed. Kotyka, the group’s door expert, opens the door to find the shed filled with storage items. Gûltar steps inside boldly only to find a tied up human with wide eyes. The muffled cries continue. Kotyka moves in to untie and un-gag the mysterious stranger. Once free, the bearded gentleman fixes his hair and stands up. “I am most grateful that you saved me. This is most fortunate. I assume that you have dispatched the guards and other members of the group.”
Gûltar nods, wondering if Kotyka was too hasty with removing the gag. “My name is Tol Muskegum. I’m a professor for the Royal University at Khab. I was just returning from studies over in Sakkal. They have a splendid collection of old Yhavian tablets and such. Anyway, these goblins were about to kill me but I convinced them to stop. Luckily, I’m fluent in three dialects of goblin and persuaded them I’d make a better hostage than a dead body. Greed is a very strong trait in this line of goblin. Why, my research shows…”
“Yes,” Gûltar thinks, “she was too hasty.”
While Professor Muskegum continues to ramble on, Tolok listens with interest but all the others begin searching the shed for valuables or useful supplies. Chalándril digs through various sacks. Merimonwe searches shelves and piles. Bandric and Gûltar lift heavy things. It is Kotyka, when she opens a strange box, finds something interesting. Two long stone blocks, carved from a dark marble, have gold inlaid sigils on the hexagonal tip. “What do you think these are?”
Bandric looks over and replies, “I don’t know. Just pack it and let’s get out of here before we end up fighting more goblins.”
Before long, the company head back towards Chulon fully laden with smelly goblin loot. The Dungeon Knights enter the plaza. “Does anyone remember where Kelwyn’s place was?”
-
The cheerful faced merchant listens to the Dungeon Knights retell their story. He nods his head. “Of course I’ll take these items off your possession. I’d be happy to compensate you at fair market value. It’s the least I can do for…” The merchant Kelwyn’s eyes light up. He walks over to Kotyka who is idly playing with the strange stone blocks.
“Oh joy, you did find the keys.”
“Keys?” blurts Kotyka.
“Yes, keys! There are nine keys in all. I found more information about the keys while you were gone.”
Kelwyn sits down, exhausted from his excitement. “The door resides somewhere in a temple called Shumhanrhu. Don’t bother asking, I know not where it is.”
“Perhaps I could be of help.” Prof. Muskegum adds. “I am familiar with many research techniques, languages, and decoding scripts.”
Kelwyn smiles, “I would be honored and willing to pay you for your help.”
“Let’s get started.” Kelwyn glances over at the blank stares of the Dungeon Knights. “Oh right! Here, take these coins as partial payment. There are a few hundred silver guilders. If you require more, come back here.”
Kotyka swipes the pouch off the table before it has time to settle. Bandric grabs her arm before she has time to run out in the streets. “Kotyka, these are for everyone…to share.”
“I knew that.” She says sheepishly.
What will the professor and the merchant uncover about the keys? Find out next issue.
A small girl dressed in plain-looking farming clothes chews the last of her spiced meat. Looking up, she sees interesting strangers. She walks up to the tall human adorn in green clothing. She stares at the stranger for several minutes. Finally, she smiles and taps the stranger on the arm. The young girl says, “I’m Gerta, what’s thy name, good sir?”
The tall human looks down, ‟I am Bandric Banehallow. Nice to meet thee, young lady.” He gestures to his companions, ‟This is Priestess Chalándril, Gûltar Grimstone, Merimonwë, Tolok, and this is the adorable Kotyka.” The half-ork blushes.
“My daddy says I shouldn’t talk to strangers. They might be scary. Are you scary?” She looks down the street and points. “What are those things? They don’t look like humans or dwarves to me. They look scary.”
Bandric turns and sees three goblins in the alley climbing into an open window. Gûltar draws his axe and starts running. ‟I better get over now. I need a head start.”
Kotyka hoist Tolok into her arms and starts running too. Bandric nocks an arrow. Chalándril puts her hand on his arm. ‟Not in town. There are innocent bystanders.”
Bandric lowers his bow and hustles off with the others. Chalándril bends down and talks to little Gerta. ‟Little one, stay here with the nice man. He’ll keep thee safe. Keep away from creatures like that for thy own safety.”
Gerta nods her head. ‟Chompers will keep me safe.”
Merimonwë and Chalándril rush off to join their companions. Kotyka is the first to arrive. Breek and Entar, two of the goblin thieves, hold a third goblin up as he wiggles into the broken window. Breek cries out in, ‟Some humans are coming. Make it quick!”
Breek drops his hold on Fentar, who legs flail upon the ledge. Entar spins as he draws his ragged edged cleaver. ‟These humans are ruining everything!”
Kotyka drops Tolok, none too gently, slides around the goblins and with an acrobatic flip, lands on the far side of Breek. Her sword drawn and slicing the surprised goblin across the mid section. Entar steps over to protect his partner and attacks Kotyka with his rusty cleaver. The blow of his strike hits Kotyka square on the arm, forcing her to take a step back. Blood dribbles out of her wound.
Gûltar arrives with wide eyes and ax held high. Breek sees the dwarf as he attempts to reposition away from Kotyka. Before Breek can complete his move, Gultar’s ax hews his arm off and rips his chest open. Goblin blood sprays across the alley and Gultar. The dwarf mutters, ‟Forges be damned, I got goblin blood all over my beard.”
Fentar gains his footing in the windowpane. He sees the death of his partner and yells, ‟Thy bearded bastard!”
The goblin leaps from the window onto Gûltar. Fentar’s dagger digs deeply into Gultar’s shoulder. An arrow pierces Fentar’s neck. The goblin slumps off Gûltar and lands on the alley street with a thud. Entar avoids the mighty staff swing by Tolok, only to meet the full face of Chalandril’s mace across his chest. The snapping of ribs sing of Entar’s pending death.
Merimonwë asks, ‟Are any of them alive? We should interrogate one of them.”
A well-dressed, tall fellow approaches the office. His steps are hurried at the sight of armed strangers near his office. As he approaches, he yells to the party, “Who are you people? And what is going on here? Why are there bloody creatures near my broken window?”
Bandric scratches his head, ‟Well, it’s not that long of a story, actually.”
-
The Dungeon Knights sit in the merchant’s office. The well-dressed fellow, Kelwyn, owns the small merchant company and smiles as Chalándril relates the story of the goblins. ‟Oh, very good.” Kelwyn adds, ‟This is fortuitous. The gods’ blessings shine upon me this day. You seem like a tough, professional lot. I’d like to hire you for a small mission.”
‟About a week ago, one of my caravans went missing. It was last seen in Thanhal, across the river, heading here to Chulan. I lost a lot of money, but more importantly, I lost very expensive and important keys. They’re magical keys. I’d like you to find these bandits and recover my keys. I’d like to recover all my goods, too, but the keys are very important to me.”
Tolok strokes his goatee, ‟What do the keys unlock?”
‟Several months ago, I purchased a strange curio, a stone block much like the two you found. After much research, I learned that it was a key to a mysterious door. The mysterious door belongs to a strange, nearly forgotten temple. This temple requires these special keys to open, magic keys. Through informants and other research, I was able to locate two keys and paid for them through a courier. One of my men took possession of the keys and was heading back to deliver them to me. However, the caravan carrying these keys was attacked by bandits. I lost hope of getting the keys.” Kelwyn sits back in his chair. ‟However, you could find the keys for me, defeat the bandits, and earn some money. Of course, I want first pick on fencing any treasure you find.”
Bandric answers, ‟Agreed.”
The Dungeon Knights head to the General Store for provisions and some information. A small, square wood building sports a small sign that reads “Gringel Menk’s Pawnshop”. The door opens easily into a shallow, empty room. There’s a locked door on the right and a long, barred counter that extends to the left. A short line of customers forms at the window, where Gringel processes the order or negotiates prices.
Chalándril approaches the window, ‟Good day, Menk, we’d like to ask thee some questions. We hope thee knowest some answers.”
The customers in line scowl at the elf lady. As the party approaches, the customers notice the arms and armor adorning most of Chalándril’s friends, so the customers back up a few steps. The thin, hollow-cheek man with a hooked nose scoffs. ‟What information do you think I have?”
‟Well, ‟ begins Chalándril, ‟We hope thy knowest something of the bandits around town, or about the goblins.”
‟Hmm,” remarks Menk. His beady eyes look at his palm. His fingers move as if grasping something. ‟Those sound like strange things. How could I know about those things?”
Bandric slams five silver pieces on the counter. ‟For thy itch, Master Menk.”
‟Ah yes,” a cruel smile emerges on Menk’s face. His yellow, crooked teeth revealed by his thin lips. ‟I do seem to recall something about the bandits...and the goblins. You seek the same group.”
Bandric adds three more silver coins to the counter. Menk purses his lips in delight. ‟The little goblins do come in from time to time, at night mostly, to sell their loot for coin. They’re not too good at counting I might add. I give them a fair cut and they’re happy. From my dealings with them, I think they’re living near the old Telshin Farmstead – abandoned earlier this year when the Master Telshin joined the Baron’s army. No one’s been there in months. It’d make a fine spot to hold up for a while. Eh?”
Chalándril turns, ‟Thank thee, Master Menk. Thou hast been a great help.”
‟Would you like to buy a map to his house?”
-
The Dungeon Knights follow the crude map along dirt roads and game paths along the grazing fields. The path forks ahead. One path bends to the right, leading into a dense forest. Eerie noises emanate from those dark sylvan depths. The other path leads to the left into an overgrown farm field. Bandric exclaims, ‟There’s no fork on the map? Which way should we go?”
Chalándril says, ‟I’d say towards the overgrown farm.”
‟I don't’ think either matters.” Merimonwë’s ears perk up. ‟I hear wolves and goblins coming. Their shrill voices are so distinct.”
From the woods comes three wolf-mounted goblins with cleavers held high. The wolves run with tongues out. Gûltar takes out his ax. ‟Here we go again!”
Two arrows fire from Bandric’s bow. The arrows find purchase in the far rider’s chest. ‟That should even the odds in our favor.”
Merimonwë’s eyes glow with green light. ‟Fireball!” She throws a green glowing ball of light towards the wolf-mounted goblins. Boom! Three goblins and three wolves fly into the air from the fiery explosion beneath their legs. The enemies land with a thud.
‟Charge!” yells Gûltar.
The wounded wolves are the first to regain their footing and sprint off towards the woods. Gûltar sets upon the lead goblin and hacks him to bits. Chalándril and Kotyka make short work of the last goblin.
‟Let’s loot and leave.” Bandric instructs.
-
A low fence surrounds a traditional Sumer farmstead. The sturdy farmhouse and large barn dominate the enclosure. There’s a shed, smokehouse, well, and outhouse on the property. Unlike the farm fields, weeds and overgrowth don’t choke this living area. Also, the farmhouse lacks doors.
The barn doors are open, allowing the cool breeze to blow through the stalls. Several goblins sit around a makeshift table playing a dice game. Off to one side is a large wagon with a few boxes. Painted on the side of the wagon is the seal of Kelwyn’s Merchant Company.
Bandric whispers, ‟This must be the place.”
The Dungeon Knights carefully work their way over the low farmstead wall and closer to the barn. Kotyka slips into the shadows and sneaks closer to the talking goblins. Goblins talk around a table. Their voices are shrill and sharp to the ear. The taller goblin wears tattered robes and strokes a pet toad. He looks around with narrowed eyes.
One of the goblins asks, ‟Kio estas tio, Gak?”
A toothy smile emerges on Gak’s face, ‟Warty says we have guests in the barn.”
Kotyka gasps from the shadows. Gak continues, ‟Some are closer than others is seems.”
Gûltar and Bandric move into the bar, followed closely by Chalándril and the others. Gak lifts his arms, says ‟Burning hands”, and a sheet of fire springs forth engulfing Gûltar and Bandric in flames. Gak’s goblin friends leap towards the flames with swords in hand.
Tolok unleashes his magic missiles towards Gak, but they are blocked by an invisible shield. Gak laughs, ‟Is that all thy magical might?”
Kotyka’s sword pierces Gak’s chest from behind. ‟No, it is not.”
Chalándril, Gûltar and Bandric fight the goblins in a pitched battle. Gûltar’s ax beheads two goblins and guts the third. Bandric’s sword drips with goblin blood. He says, ‟Gûltar, leave me something to slay once in a while.”
Gûltar looks at Chalándril’s mace matted with pieces of goblin flesh. ‟Do I have to share with both of you?”
After defeating the goblins, our heroes are left to explore the remaining camp and lair for treasure, supplies and clues. Gûltar drops a large crate on the floor and sighs. “These goblins sure have a lot of crap.”
Kotyka is kneeling on the floor sorting the loot into piles. “Just put the stuff we don’t want here in this pile. Put the other stuff we don’t like over there, out of the way. Only take the things with the most value that we can sell back in town.” She looks over the piles of bric-a-brac, worn goblin armor and scruffy weapons. Thoughtfully she says, “Sometimes I wish we had a few pack mules or a large wagon…or both.”
Bandric nods to the Kelwyn wagon. ‟I’m sure we could make use of this wagon.”
‟But we don’t have any horses or mules.” Chalándril adds, ‟Besides, this wheel is broken.”
In due course, the Dungeon Knights emerge from the barn. Bandric and Gûltar are loaded down with overfilled bags, dragging large sacks, and backpacks bursting at the seams. Tolok mentions, “We could stock a small general store with these things. It is not the windfall we were hoping for but at least it will cover our expenses and provide for a few more weeks.”
Straining under the weight Bandric whimpers, “These backpacks are getting very heavy. Any chance you skinner folk want to lend a hand.” Tolok and Merimonwë look at him blankly.
“Uh”
Gûltar huffs, “Beh, that’s what we get for eating and drinking right. Tiu ke povas, ili havos labori.”
Merimonwë’s ears perk up. “Did you hear that?”
Bandric moans, “It’s just my breathing…or the snapping of my muscles. You needn’t worry. If I collapse under all this crap, at least I’ll be buried properly.”
“No, I think I hear something…else.”
“Now that you mention it, I do hear breathing. Not my breathing.” replies Bandric.
Out of the forest, two wolf riders and a few goblin warriors emerge from the tree line. The wolf pads beating rhythmically on the ground. The heavy breaths of the wolves driving at a steady beat. The larger, well-armored goblin yells, “Vi aŭdacas invadi la hejmon de Penjo Fen la forta? Preĝu nun malamikoj. Mortos vi hodiaŭe!”
The over-burden Gûltar sighs audibly beneath the sacks, boxes and backpack. “They’re attacking us now? We’re too busy for a fight.”
Penjo Fen announces, “Kontraŭulo, vin havas la mortdeziron. Ataku!”
Gûltar slough off the packs and draws his axe with great speed. Well if we have a death wish, now’s a good a time as any, I suppose.”
Bandric tries to drop his load but it unbalances and sends him to the ground. “Gûltar, thou may need to do this thyself.”
Meshtik Nhol, the goblin priest on the other wolf, says, “Timu nian fortegon. Ci estos morti unue, barbaroj!”
-
Penjo Fen charges towards Gûltar, driving the lance towards the defiant dwarf. Gûltar side steps the lance, hewing into pieces. Quickly he spins and slices the wolf across the mid section. The riding wolf collapses in a pile of blood, fur, and dirt. The rider Penjo Fen, however, lands on his feet and quickly draws his sword. Eye to eye, the two short warriors begin a long melee of clashing blades.
Meshtik Nhol, focuses his efforts on supporting Penjo. He rides past the archer Bandric, whacking him with a spiked mace. Reeling from the pain, Bandric is unable to answer the attack. He yells, “We need to focus our attacks. Help Gûltar with his opponent. We’ll deal with the others later.”
Merimonwë looks at the group with intense focus. Chalándril moves to protect the two spellcasters. Tolok begins to summon his support team of astral badgers. Meshtik Nhol circles around towards the incoming goblin gang. He barks some orders and the goblins begin to run towards the Knights.
Merimonwë whispers under her breath, “Come on and clump up.” Meshtik Nhol casts a spell on his forces.
Tolok mentions this, “He is fortifying the warriors. They are much stronger now.” Three of his badgers appear out of nowhere and surround Penjo Fen. “Meri, are thou thinking what I am thinking.”
“Gotcha!” says Merimonwë unconsciously. “Fireball!” A glowing, green ball flies through the air and lands in the midst of the goblins. Instantly, it explodes in a huge ball of fire.
“I guess thou art. Fireball!” commands Tolok. A second glowing ball flies through the air and it too explodes in a ball of scorching hot fire. Out of the smoke, dust and dirt cloud, a lone armored goblin emerges. Blackened by the fire, Meshtik Nhol limps out of the inferno towards the combat. The smoke settles showing the burnt remains of goblins and a wolf scattered in a charred circle.
Merimonwë crosses her arms pridefully. “That worked better than expected.”
Chalándril says, “The priest is still up. We shouldn’t celebrate until the combat is truly over.”
Merimonwë’s eyes tighten. “Fine!”
She shoots a bolt of energy from her hands. It traverses the field in a flash striking the goblin priest in the head. He falls to one knee and then collapses on to the ground. Merimonwë smirks and looks over to Chalándril. “Now can I celebrate?”
Meanwhile, the three badgers distract and agitate Penjo Fen. With his sword, the goblin warrior cuts one badger in half. He turns and stabs a second in the body. Gûltar takes the opportunity to strike Penjo across the body. Defiantly, Penjo counter attacks and swings at the dwarf. Gûltar blocks the strike and drives the pick end into Penjo’s skull right through his helmet. Penjo’s body goes limp.
Chalándril looks over at Gûltar standing over the Penjo’s body, his axe dripping blood. “Yes, now thee can celebrate.”
Kotyka says, “I didn’t understand a thing they were saying. I wish I knew their goblin language.”
Gûltar begins to clean his axe and says, “The leaders aren’t speaking Goblinese. The grunts were. The leaders were speaking our merchant language Koinwer. It’s easier for goblins to learn, than for us to learn their vile languages. Then we don’t have to foul our mouths with their bestial sounds.”
“Where’d they learn Koinwer?”
Gûltar pulls on his beard in thought, “Actually, why are all these goblins so well trained for battle. It’s unlike them. Goblins tend to be more savage and chaotic…and hungry.”
-
Chalándril locates a few small handcarts that the Dungeon Knights confiscate for their use. Bandric and Kotyka search the goblin tents and other buildings around the area. While Bandric is nudging a dead goblin body, he hears a muffled noise. “Does anyone else hear that? There’s something over there.”
He points towards the shed. The Dungeon Knights surround the shed. The sounds of thumping and muffled cries drift from the shed. Kotyka, the group’s door expert, opens the door to find the shed filled with storage items. Gûltar steps inside boldly only to find a tied up human with wide eyes. The muffled cries continue. Kotyka moves in to untie and un-gag the mysterious stranger. Once free, the bearded gentleman fixes his hair and stands up. “I am most grateful that you saved me. This is most fortunate. I assume that you have dispatched the guards and other members of the group.”
Gûltar nods, wondering if Kotyka was too hasty with removing the gag. “My name is Tol Muskegum. I’m a professor for the Royal University at Khab. I was just returning from studies over in Sakkal. They have a splendid collection of old Yhavian tablets and such. Anyway, these goblins were about to kill me but I convinced them to stop. Luckily, I’m fluent in three dialects of goblin and persuaded them I’d make a better hostage than a dead body. Greed is a very strong trait in this line of goblin. Why, my research shows…”
“Yes,” Gûltar thinks, “she was too hasty.”
While Professor Muskegum continues to ramble on, Tolok listens with interest but all the others begin searching the shed for valuables or useful supplies. Chalándril digs through various sacks. Merimonwe searches shelves and piles. Bandric and Gûltar lift heavy things. It is Kotyka, when she opens a strange box, finds something interesting. Two long stone blocks, carved from a dark marble, have gold inlaid sigils on the hexagonal tip. “What do you think these are?”
Bandric looks over and replies, “I don’t know. Just pack it and let’s get out of here before we end up fighting more goblins.”
Before long, the company head back towards Chulon fully laden with smelly goblin loot. The Dungeon Knights enter the plaza. “Does anyone remember where Kelwyn’s place was?”
-
The cheerful faced merchant listens to the Dungeon Knights retell their story. He nods his head. “Of course I’ll take these items off your possession. I’d be happy to compensate you at fair market value. It’s the least I can do for…” The merchant Kelwyn’s eyes light up. He walks over to Kotyka who is idly playing with the strange stone blocks.
“Oh joy, you did find the keys.”
“Keys?” blurts Kotyka.
“Yes, keys! There are nine keys in all. I found more information about the keys while you were gone.”
Kelwyn sits down, exhausted from his excitement. “The door resides somewhere in a temple called Shumhanrhu. Don’t bother asking, I know not where it is.”
“Perhaps I could be of help.” Prof. Muskegum adds. “I am familiar with many research techniques, languages, and decoding scripts.”
Kelwyn smiles, “I would be honored and willing to pay you for your help.”
“Let’s get started.” Kelwyn glances over at the blank stares of the Dungeon Knights. “Oh right! Here, take these coins as partial payment. There are a few hundred silver guilders. If you require more, come back here.”
Kotyka swipes the pouch off the table before it has time to settle. Bandric grabs her arm before she has time to run out in the streets. “Kotyka, these are for everyone…to share.”
“I knew that.” She says sheepishly.
What will the professor and the merchant uncover about the keys? Find out next issue.
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Location: Inside goblin territory
Dungeon Knight Roster:
Bandric (Human Ranger 5)
Chalándril (Half-human Cleric 5)
Gûltar (Dwarf Fighter 5)
Kotyka (Half-ork Rogue 5)
Merimonwë (Elf Sorcerer 5)
Tolok (Gnome Wizard/Conjurist 5)
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“Goblins smell worse than their pet wolves.” – Bandric
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This adventure is based on the one I wrote for the RPGA-sanctioned Living Greyhawk campaign set in Nyrond. It was originally from my home campaign featured here in these stories.
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