It was early morning, still cold and crisp, the sun barely poking through the autumn leaves. Rivka walked slowly down the middle of the road, chatting distractedly in the goblin tongue to no one in sight. "Teger, dar tuuch Rikva druun?" she seemed to whine in her high pitched voice. "Rivka oklaagaal ogaagukhec Rivka man dhuur Tor."
She took aim with her staff and hit a small rock squarely, sending it sailing down the road where it bounced off an oak tree. The goblin sighed and kept plodding along, brooding in her thoughts.
Stupid goblin! How could she have thought the residents of Jastrey that promised to help her would actually do so? Humans, Uordeq, Angori, and the other races had always detested the goblins. What made Rivka think they detested her any less? "All help Rivka find Val-Tor, so they can take swords for themselves." She knew now they only tolerated her presence because she was useful to them, nothing more.
The goblin felt a strange lump in her throat and swallowed hard to try to get rid of it, unsure of what it was.
Her steps eventually took her toward where just days ago had been bustling with hundreds of goblins. She had heard that the new goblin town had been burnt to the ground, but needed to see for herself if it was true...
Whisps of warm breath wafted around the walking, cloaked figure of Inara. She huddled for a moment to let a wave of shivers pass. Pulling her hands out from under her cloak, she clutched on to her unlit lanturn. It had be wrapped with a decorative weave of leaves, grass, and small flowers. A sigh was released as she checked to see that nothing was messed up with her work. Everything seemed to be in order, so she tucked it back under her cloak and proceeded walking down the beaten road.
After a few minutes of walking, Inara came upon her intended destination--the recently destroyed Goblin village--but was surprised to find she wasn't alone. There were two others among the ruins. One she recognized as the female goblin she met in town who'd suggested that they search for her ancestor's sword...the goblins had also elected to nominate her queen. The other individual, she did not recognized.
Inara paused a bit behind Rivka. It was clear the poor woman was grief stricken, though the elf was unsure of how to comfort her. She didn't want to make matters worse...but she couldn't stand there and do nothing. Inara took a cautious step closer.
"Ah.." Her voice croaked a bit and she quickly cleared her throat, "Good morning..."
The empyrean lifted his head slowly. With sorrowful eyes he looked at the goblin. His left hand fiddled slowly with a small spoon hanging from his neck. Astrum swiped the ground with his sleeve, leaving it grey with ash, and gestured for the goblin to have a seat.
(So apparently I can't edit after someone else posts, so hopefully this doesn't break the flow too terribly much... :) )
Rivka stopped suddenly as the remains of the goblin town came into view, simply staring at the piles of ash, rubble and charred goblin bodies. As she stood there, a large, black spider emerged from her pocket, climbed onto her shoulder, and faced the same way Rivka stared, as if looking upon the scene before them.
She did not know how long she stood like that, but eventually the goblin's feet moved toward the ruins. Only then did she notice an unrecognized figure sitting among the ash. Any feelings of remorse were immediately pushed back, replaced with her base instinct of fear. The spider dived back into her pocket as the goblin hissed and brought her staff up, backing up a few steps as she observed the stranger and backed right into the elf that she hadn't heard approach.
She was surrounded! It was a trap! They had killed all her family and now they would kill her too! The goblin squeaked, spinning around with her staff held defensively.
Inara nearly dropped her decorated lanturn in surprise, and grasped on to Rivka's shoulders for a brief moment to steady herself. When the she-goblin whipped around with her staff held at the ready, Inara gasped. She lifted her hands out before her--one holding the lanturn--in a gesture of peaceful intent.
"Please...I do not wish to fight you. I..I came to pay my respects." The she-elf waved her open hand around to suggest the ruinned town around them, then lifted the decorated lanturn towards Rivka. "Your...some of those who lived here seemed taken by this. So I thought I'd leave it here for them...I...I'm so sorry..."
Sorrow and pity reflected in the elf's eyes. A part of her was almost as devastated as the goblin woman by the buring of the goblin town. So much loss of life...so much needless destruction.
Rivka relaxed...slightly. But she moved to the right, moving herself out from in between the elf and the robed stranger sitting in the ashes so that she could keep an eye on both of them at once.
Cautiously, she eyed Astrum's peace offering of the frog and licked her pointed teeth, tempted to snatch the tasty morsel. But the whole fight between the goblins the residents of Jastrey had broken out over a frog in the first place. Rivka held her ground.
"You help burn out goblins," she said in a tone that was somewhere between an accusation and a question.
A nearby ruined house creaks and crumbles, as a small stout figure stumbles out of it. Tregard falls ungraciously on a large rucksack, in which dozens of croaks can be heard. The gnome quickly scrambles off the bag. A large sword with a blue aura is strapped to his back and causes him to fall on his ass.
Tregard lays sobbing on the ground. Ashes and tears stain his violet cheeks. "This wasn't supposed happened!" He gestures to the bag. "There was enough frogs for everyone!"
Inara followed Rivka's gaze over to the sitting, robed empyrean and she watched the small green creature wriggling in his grasp. He seemed to be trying to make amends as well, which boosted her spirits some. However, when turning her eyes back over to the she-goblin her rising mood waivered. When Rivka's questioning accusation sounded it was like a cold dagger to Inara's heart. She turned her head away with a pained expression and clutched onto her small gift.
Though she had no direct part in buring this town, she was there. She was there when it happened, and did nothing to stop it. Thus making her equally guilty enough to blame. She didn't want that! None of the past few days of violence was her desire. And yet, it was percisely that for which she'd set out in the first place; to somehow finally put at end to it all. Great job she was doing so far.
"You're right..." Inara started, hardly above a whisper, her voice thick with grief. "I froze...I was there...I..I did nothing. Nothing to prevent this massacre..." The elf swallowed hard. She gripped the lanturn for a moment, then took a small step closer to Rivka and set it down on the ground. After that, Inara turned to leave knowing that she wouldn't be able to keep her composure for long.
The goblin jumped again as the gnome tumbled out of the burnt shell of a hut, but brightened slightly upon seeing Tregard. "Not nice to tease gobs with froggies," she commented about the fight that had broken out between the adventurers and the goblins.
She looked at the elf again, watching her as she set down the lantern. Rivka's eyes took on a slightly unfocused look as the elf turned and started walking away. "Spirits like elfy's light," she said after a few moments.
Inara paused. Turning back towards Rivka, she gave a small, weak smile. She took a deep breath to settle herself a bit. "I'm glad." She replied meekly with an honored bow of her head. "May those spirits always watch over you, Rivka."
Inara turned back to the road to Jastery seemingly ready to make the trek back. However, she thought better of it. She turned back around and glanced over the demolished town. Noting the gnome that had recently appeared, she quietly observed the three others. Inara walked back over near Rivka. "I am not familiar with the rites and rituals of goblins...is there something we could do to honor them?"
"I wasn't trying to tease! The frogs were a peace offering." The gnome climbs to his feet and sighs. " It was the first step of the plan. I'd hope....." Tregard trails off, usure how to explain the plain to the grieving goblin.
The following awkwardness is broken by Inara's question. "Yes, what are the goblins' burial ceremonies?"
Rivka stared blankly for a moment at Tregard and Inara. A goblin funeral usually consisted of fighting over how the dead goblins' belongings would be divided among the survivors.
She looked around at the charred bodies left amoung the ash and shrugged. It wasn't uncommon to leave bodies to rot, unless, of course, those bodies could be put to use somehow, even eating them if the stew was lean that week. She'd once helped an older shaman stuff the bodies, prop them up in trees, and give them broken bows before a battle so that their numbers would appear greater. Looking at the elf though, the goblin suspected that answer might not be satisfactory and frowned slightly. "Feed their bodies to wild animals so spirits may be free," she tried.
The goblin looked to the spot where the robed figure had been a moment ago, not quite sure what to make of the vanishing act. She looked around behind her, seeing if she could spot where he had gone, but could spot no sign of him.
Rivka turned her eyes back to Inara and nodded. "Okays. Maybe baby dragon come gets dem," she said, a hint of excitement coming through at the idea.
She knelt down near one of the dead goblins, and proceeded to rifle through the remains, looking for anything of value. Disappointed in her search, she started dragging the body to the treeline.
As she worked she sung a song, high pitched and very off key...
Fee, fie, fo, fum
We smell the blood of a gob-bi-lun,
He be not alive, so be he dead,
We'll grind his bones to make our bread.
Fee, fie, fo, fum
We smell the blood of a gob-bi-lun,
He be not alive, so be he dead,
Give crows his eyes from out his head.
Fee, fie, fo, fum
We smell the blood of a gob-bi-lun,
He be not alive, so be he dead,
Worgs chew his liver to be well fed.
Taklinn walks to the edge of where Goblin town once stood. Upon seeing Treygard he walks over and says "Aye lad, that blade looks better on yer hip than it did on mine." With a wink he looks over to the grieving goblin and in a rare moment of sympathy reaches over and pats her on her shoulder. "I know what its like to watch yer kin be slaughtered and not be able to do a durned thing about it. The problem was that while ye were ready to lead them, they were not ready to follow yer commands."
He nods towards the blade on Treygard's hip and say to Rivka "Never did I ask fer the blade that was given to me. The Sword of Val was not a prize that I sought in me heart or from the Immortal of which I follow. I passed on the sword to me friend because I thought that maybe it could help him relieve himself of Skipslip. I would have passed it to ye, but the sword would not be wielded by ye at this time. The sword of Val can only be wielded by one of true heart, and at this time it would not suffer to be wielded in yer hands. Perhaps iffin' ye atoned a bit, the Blade would agree to be wielded by ye lass."
Tregard smiles shyly at Taklinn's words. However the dwarf's mention of Skipslip causes the gnome's smile to freeze. Tregard nervously waits an outburst from the being, but is answered only with a low purring sound from within.
The bard turns to Rivka and asks "Are the bodies to be stacked a certain way or does chaos reign even in death."
Rivka did not respond to Taklinn's words immediately, processing what he had said. But instead she dropped the dead goblin she was dragging at the edge of the forest while her eyes scanned the woods looking for signs of wild creatures. Seeing none, she shrugged at the gnome's question. "No matter."
Turning back to Taklinn, Rivka whined her high pitched voice. "But... but... Rivka be good! Rivka didn't break any of laws!"
"The sword on his hip goes by no laws given by Mortals. It looks into the weilder's heart and gauges wheter or not to be wielded by them. It tells ye who it can be passed to, and I could not hand it over to ye lass. I knew how much ye were countin on it, but I could not at that time hand it over to ye. The blade imparted to me that ye must wait a while longer before it has made its decision to be wielded by ye."
Astrum can be found sitting in the ashes of the town, legs crossed neatly. He absent-mindedly lets a hand full of ash slide through his fingers. His head is lowered.