The goblin children are quick to pick their names, for which you are grateful. You do your best to ignore the understanding look on Clatter's face. You don't want pity. You're not the one who was hurt by your laxity.
The surviving male holds up two rocks he's picked up from somewhere, and bangs them together. The first female holds out a stick with a dull point on it. The second opens her mouth and shows you with obvious pride the fact she's missing most of her teeth. Her gums are bloody. Another glance at Clatter shows him suppress a wince, and then nod.
More rage, that you clamp down on. You were so close to loosing two of them.
“Banger!” Banger shouts, banging his rocks again.
“Pointy!” Pointy shouts, equally vigorously, although you're unsure if she gets the point of the exercise or if she's just excited to show you her stick.
“Nine Teef!” comes out with a slight misting of blood, and you mentally edit it just a little before accepting the name.
You leave the tavern behind, filled with the excited chatter of the newly named Banger, Pointy and Nine Teeth. Other sounds pick up as the excitement of children lifts the dour mood everyone has been feeling since your collective loss. You take a moment to breathe, but the rising merriment doesn't buoy your mood, and within moments your feet are carrying you away.
Towards your monument, or perhaps cenotaph. A thin golden plaque, lower down than most adventurers will ever see.
“Everyone do their best.”
Feathers voice still carries a hint of growl from the flames that took her leg and eye.
“I know. I'm not angry at them.”
“Everyone mean you too.”
She comes to a stop next to you, and rests her hand on your arm. The two of you stare at the words for a moment more.
“We took loot to entrance. Out of way. Seemed... right. Not open yet. Three heroes, high level. Should be very good.”
You blink at her. “Three?”
She bobs her head. “Goblin rage. Clatter got last hero after it got loot. After it got the child.”
Some of the knot around your heart loosens. “Good.”
She bobs her head again.
“Come. No good to be stuck in past. Better to look to future.”
You take a moment to look at her in the flickering torchlight. The goblin who led the remnants of her tribe to you.
You nod, and follow her. The noise of celebration, the joy of waking up still with your friends, spills from the tavern now, a party in full swing going on inside. The two of you slip around the other side, leaving them to their revel.
In a very real way, you're glad that the loss hasn't hit them as hard as it's hit you. The white hot rage with no vent makes your stomach roil uncomfortably even as it twists to black sorrow.
You push it from your mind as best you can as you reach the entrance hall and the three evenly spaced loot bags.
You have to snort at the contents of the, presumably, barbarian's bag. You have wondered before how the fur clad warriors keep themselves warm when so much of their fur armour involves exposing rippling muscles. Now you know. They cheat.
You're glad there's no goblin related items in the bag. You may have been forced to throw it from the mountain if there had been. At least this way you can pretend you don't know where it all comes from.
The next bag clanks as you move it.
You raise your eye-ridges at that one. The metal haul is very nice, although you're not sure what widgets are apart from the fact there's a draw for them on your trap bench. You'll give them to Jack, he can probably make use of them, and it'll stop him from stealing them anyway.
You move to the final bag. The knight.
“Well then.”
“We think you probably got lucky and got the amulet, and the rings he couldn't use any more got rolled into it.”
Mercy's footsteps have been quiet enough that you nearly startle at the sound of her voice.
Sapphire is next, although she at least walks into your field of vision before speaking.
“It's quite a haul sir. The rings, especially. Handed out to people who show promise, it could be a significant boost to our fighting capability. At least until a hero takes them from us.
Amanda too, although she seems preoccupied with something, merely humming as she walks past you to sit on the floor, before she looking up at you.
She looks up and meets your eyes once more.
Her lootbag falls to the floor.
You break gaze with her as a flinch rips through your frame.
“No. No. I have another idea. I'd rather turn these into permanent growth than use them as temporary bonuses. But it does depend on Mercy.”
The half demon in question cocks her head at you. “Oh?”
“How do you feel about tracking down that merchant? That Quest Lock, and as much stone and ore as he'll sell you. It's time to get the second floor up to speed.”
A huge thank you to my patreons Spockk Kirkk, Abysslsniper, Tyrant615, Dakkanor, Jakelandiar, Curious Krissy, CBK, Roman, TheDrTelos, RD, Bakerdea, Hemlock and KN. A special thank you to Spokk Kirkk who is paying more than they need to, which is one of the most incredible feelings. A very special thank you to Roman for being insane and updating their pledge to a truly silly amount.
The goblin children are quick to pick their names, for which you are grateful. You do your best to ignore the understanding look on Clatter's face. You don't want pity. You're not the one who was hurt by your laxity.
The surviving male holds up two rocks he's picked up from somewhere, and bangs them together. The first female holds out a stick with a dull point on it. The second opens her mouth and shows you with obvious pride the fact she's missing most of her teeth. Her gums are bloody. Another glance at Clatter shows him suppress a wince, and then nod.
More rage, that you clamp down on. You were so close to loosing two of them.
“Banger!” Banger shouts, banging his rocks again.
“Pointy!” Pointy shouts, equally vigorously, although you're unsure if she gets the point of the exercise or if she's just excited to show you her stick.
“Nine Teef!” comes out with a slight misting of blood, and you mentally edit it just a little before accepting the name.
You leave the tavern behind, filled with the excited chatter of the newly named Banger, Pointy and Nine Teeth. Other sounds pick up as the excitement of children lifts the dour mood everyone has been feeling since your collective loss. You take a moment to breathe, but the rising merriment doesn't buoy your mood, and within moments your feet are carrying you away.
Towards your monument, or perhaps cenotaph. A thin golden plaque, lower down than most adventurers will ever see.
“Everyone do their best.”
Feathers voice still carries a hint of growl from the flames that took her leg and eye.
“I know. I'm not angry at them.”
“Everyone mean you too.”
She comes to a stop next to you, and rests her hand on your arm. The two of you stare at the words for a moment more.
“We took loot to entrance. Out of way. Seemed... right. Not open yet. Three heroes, high level. Should be very good.”
You blink at her. “Three?”
She bobs her head. “Goblin rage. Clatter got last hero after it got loot. After it got the child.”
Some of the knot around your heart loosens. “Good.”
She bobs her head again.
“Come. No good to be stuck in past. Better to look to future.”
You take a moment to look at her in the flickering torchlight. The goblin who led the remnants of her tribe to you.
You nod, and follow her. The noise of celebration, the joy of waking up still with your friends, spills from the tavern now, a party in full swing going on inside. The two of you slip around the other side, leaving them to their revel.
In a very real way, you're glad that the loss hasn't hit them as hard as it's hit you. The white hot rage with no vent makes your stomach roil uncomfortably even as it twists to black sorrow.
You push it from your mind as best you can as you reach the entrance hall and the three evenly spaced loot bags.
You have to snort at the contents of the, presumably, barbarian's bag. You have wondered before how the fur clad warriors keep themselves warm when so much of their fur armour involves exposing rippling muscles. Now you know. They cheat.
You're glad there's no goblin related items in the bag. You may have been forced to throw it from the mountain if there had been. At least this way you can pretend you don't know where it all comes from.
The next bag clanks as you move it.
You raise your eye-ridges at that one. The metal haul is very nice, although you're not sure what widgets are apart from the fact there's a draw for them on your trap bench. You'll give them to Jack, he can probably make use of them, and it'll stop him from stealing them anyway.
You move to the final bag. The knight.
“Well then.”
“We think you probably got lucky and got the amulet, and the rings he couldn't use any more got rolled into it.”
Mercy's footsteps have been quiet enough that you nearly startle at the sound of her voice.
Sapphire is next, although she at least walks into your field of vision before speaking.
“It's quite a haul sir. The rings, especially. Handed out to people who show promise, it could be a significant boost to our fighting capability. At least until a hero takes them from us.
Amanda too, although she seems preoccupied with something, merely humming as she walks past you to sit on the floor, before she looking up at you.
She looks up and meets your eyes once more.
Her lootbag falls to the floor.
You break gaze with her as a flinch rips through your frame.
“No. No. I have another idea. I'd rather turn these into permanent growth than use them as temporary bonuses. But it does depend on Mercy.”
The half demon in question cocks her head at you. “Oh?”
“How do you feel about tracking down that merchant? That Quest Lock, and as much stone and ore as he'll sell you. It's time to get the second floor up to speed.”
A huge thank you to my patreons Spockk Kirkk, Abysslsniper, Tyrant615, Dakkanor, Jakelandiar, Curious Krissy, CBK, Roman, TheDrTelos, RD, Bakerdea, Hemlock and KN. A special thank you to Spokk Kirkk who is paying more than they need to, which is one of the most incredible feelings. A very special thank you to Roman for being insane and updating their pledge to a truly silly amount.
