《Raelsphere: The Paladin》 Chapter 1 Reegar Greywalker walked towards an abandoned graveyard above a hill. He looked at a broken sign that reads Hilltop¡¯s Cemetery. A gust of wind blew a terrible stench towards him, and he let out a grunt as he continued his march. The steel helmet covered much of his head, revealing only his mouth and jaw. Graying stubbles dotted his face and five vertical slits from the visor provided vision. He wore a red gambeson and it reached down to his knees. A pair of steel pauldrons protected his shoulder and steel vambraces cover his arms. A belt hangs from his waist, with a leather satchel attached to the right. On his neck, he wears a circular steel medallion with a symbol of a fox¡¯s head surrounded by nine tails. If someone describes how this armor looks, they would say it appears worn out and rugged, dotted with scratches and dust. His right hand unsheathed a longsword from his back. The sword¡¯s overall length is around fifty inches long. The hilt securely held the double-edged blade, and a pommel secured the hilt of the sword. In contrast to the neglected armor, he meticulously maintained this sword. He quickly surveyed the surroundings. He kneeled near an opened grave and looked at the soil. Chaotic, erratic, and there are claw marks on the tombstones. Someone tore apart the wooden coffin, and now half of the corpse is missing. Someone or something ripped open the chest and took the organs. A picky eater. A low gurgling noise caught his attention, and he noticed a creature squatting on the other end of the graveyard. The creature is devoid of any hair and the skin is pale, stretched tight over its skeletal structure, giving it the appearance of something that is always hungry, never satisfied. It gorged on a corpse, focusing on the organs, ripping them out. He grumbled. He recognized this type of undead. Ghoul. The creature became undead either through a bite from another ghoul or by consuming sentient flesh, resulting in an eternal craving for corpses. Worst-case scenario, necromancer¡¯s plaything. Unleashing this creature into the world to test their necrotic power or some kind of twisted experiment or game. He received compensation to take care of this and he intends to fulfill his contract. He must stop this ghoul here. There¡¯s a settlement nearby. The ghoul would become a ghast if it fed on the living, presenting a new set of problems to avoid. This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. The ghoul stopped its feast and turned towards him and snarled, revealing a row of fangs with putrid cream colored saliva dripping from its mouth. Its eyes are white and cloudy. And his arms are slightly longer with larger palms and long fingers that end sharply. It stood up, hunched, and continued to snarl and hissed. Reegar raised the sword and held it vertically in front of his face. Red rose petals swirled around him, carrying a sweet rosy scent, Reegar¡¯s answer to the ghoul¡¯s snarls. He took a deep breath and slowly let it out as he strode towards the ghoul, holding his weapon with his right hand. The ghoul¡¯s legs pushed through the grass and its cloudy eyes locked on its target and lunged towards him with its right arm pushed forward. The long, thin arm reminds him of a spear. Sparks flew as the claw meets the blade. Reegar deflected the claw and sliced the ghoul¡¯s chest. Black blood sprayed onto the ground, creating a rancid smell. The ghoul jerked back and swung its left arm at the Reegar¡¯s face, grazing his lips. Reegar slammed the pommel of his sword right into the ghoul¡¯s head, pushing it back and unleashed a swing, aiming at the ghoul¡¯s neck. Petals of roses enveloped the blade as it cut through the air. Blossoming Rose Sword Style, First Form, Roses by the Roadside. The blade cut through the ghoul¡¯s neck, freeing the head from the shoulder. The ghoul¡¯s scream turns into a gutter mess before it stops, followed by a thump. The head rolls sideways, separated from its body. The paladin plucked the head and placed it into a sack. He offered a small prayer before leaving the graveyard with a satisfied smile. It doesn¡¯t take long for him to meet with civilization again. One small village, among many in this land. Life, quiet and quaint, yet too dull for him. The sound of chickens and goats greeted him as he walked into the village, with eyes staring at him. An armed man walking into a village carrying a sack that oozes the smell of decayed flesh. These people will gossip about him for the next couple of months. He stopped at the largest building in the village, the elder¡¯s house. The elder, a man in his late sixties, was sitting on the porch with several others when he arrived. He let out a weary smile when he noticed Reegar. ¡°I¡¯ve dealt with the monster. It¡¯s a ghoul.¡± The elder looked at the sack and signaled a nearby villager. ¡°You don¡¯t need to show me. I¡¯ll take your word, paladin.¡± Reegar pierced the ghoul¡¯s head with his sword and a burst of petals ran through the blade. It eats through the head as it crumbles into ashes. He uttered a prayer to his goddess, to thank her for giving him the opportunity to face a foe and win. The elder handed him a bag and inside were several dried meats, several eggs, breads, a pie, two water bags, a bag containing cocoa powder and several berries and fruits. ¡°I am sorry we couldn¡¯t provide you with an actual payment. In rugums.¡± the elder spoke. He looked at the elder and smiled. ¡°Nonsense. Right now, only food and water are sufficient. I hate hunting for food, anyway.¡± Chapter 2 It¡¯s been three days since Reegar departed from the village. His feet have taken him across the land, following the unpaved road. He set up camp as the sky lost its azure color and slowly it turned red and finally black as night greeted the land. Light of the campfire reflects on his armor and helmet, creating shadows around its shapes and dents. He quietly sips on the hot cocoa, with dried meat and bread as his dinner. He pulled out his pouch and poured the contents out. Silver and gold coins rested on the ground. The gold coins are heptagonal with the obverse reading ¡°Lycia¡± and ¡°Rugum.¡± Engravings of a royal griffin adorn the back of the coins. This winged lion-eagle hybrid is the symbol of the League. The silver coins are rectangular with a similar obverse as the gold coins except for the word rugum. Here, they stamp it with the word Temne, which is an old dwarvish word meaning barter. Coins showcase a dwarf riding a bear with a helmet. An old dwarven legend about a dwarven king riding an armored bear into battle. He realized he is worth two rugum and four temne. ¡°Well, at least I can rub two temne to my name,¡± he sighed, and he looked up to the heavens. Far above, the light of the twins illuminated the sky. Purnama glows with its glimmering silver with her viridian sister, Lunaria, partially hiding behind her. They said the twin moons acted as eyes for Selune, Goddess of the Night and Dreams, where she kept watch, providing guidance for travelers and sailors at night. And give dreams to those who slept beneath her glow. Or something along those lines. Almost cloudless, stars dotted the night sky as his eyes lingered. Although a paladin of Kuzunoha, the Goddess of Travel and Luck, he lacked knowledge of constellations and astrology. He only knows two things about the night sky. The ocean of stars is the hunting ground for Sol-Amaran, The Great Wyrm of Dawn and Lunadella, the Great Wyrm of Dusk. The sight of Daelzana¡¯s Gate, the brightest star in the night sky, assured him where the north was. He shivers for a moment as icy winds blew in his direction. Embers from the flame fluttered around him and his eyes traced their movement, fluttering about before disappearing. He has no interest in or knowledge of poetic references to embers on wintry nights. Reegar pulled his rug-blanket and noticed several holes in it. With a sigh, he wrapped himself. His eyes continue watching the flame. He can feel the heat but not the warmth. Fall is ending, and winter is coming. Or he¡¯s just lonely. Unwilling to move, he used his sword to pull his bag closer and took out a map. The map has some scribbles and notes attached to it with the words Lycia League written as the title. It¡¯s a very rough and general map of the league, pointing to several other notable locations around the league. The cities, the Silver Route, the inland trading route linking the Kingdom of Mes in the west to the Obren Republic to the east. South lies Storvak Sea, north holds Great Grassland and Blue Mountains. He stares at the map for a while and remembers buying it from a merchant near the Mes border, adding a few notes of anything interesting he saw, exploring the frontiers. Sitting cross-legged in front of the map, Reegar used the stars and other notable landmarks he passed. He pressed his finger on the map, pointing at a city symbol. Stormpoint. A major city in the league. Five to six days of trekking. If I took a few jobs, I can expect a roof and bed for the whole winter. And food. Delicious, well-prepared, salivating city food. And no longer chewing roots and hunting rabbits. The next morning he sets out, following the map. He noticed a high number of caravans using the road. A company of well-armed guards guarded the larger ones. Some are in matching uniforms, others are clearly adventuring parties. Some nodded at him, others gave him a wide berth. On the second day, he continued along the trail until open fields greeted him. Cattles graze on the open meadows. One can observe several shepherds either leading them or sleeping under a tree. Few of them noticed a single armored man on the gravel road. Reegar¡¯s eyes scanned the fringes of society and a noxious smell assaulted his olfactory. The smell of a tannery. An odoriferous smell, but it means you are nearing a community. The unmaintained gravel road leads to a group of buildings huddling together surrounded by farms and ranches. The trail has a crooked sign next to it that reads Crestwood. A few buildings became visible, far from the town. Reegar noticed the tannery workshop near the town, but not in its vicinity. He saw stacks of treated and untreated leather, some of which were left hanging. Reegar noticed several workers soaking the leather in a large pot. As he passed the outskirts of the town, he found himself near the gate of Crestwood. Wooden walls surround the town with a pair of towers at the gate. Past the gate is a large building with a red roof. A sign hangs above the door that reads Kayle¡¯s Workshop. It seems this is the local smithy. The smoke rises from the furnace. A red-haired woman hammers at her anvil while a pair of children play nearby. I probably should check out their swords later. Reegar passed the blacksmith¡¯s shop and several buildings. He glimpsed a temple. Timber beams and posts create borders, fashioning the temple to look like a circular open area. Reegar¡¯s eyes turned to another building nearby. A three storied inn. The owner must handle significant traffic. The sign above the door reads, The Immoral Priestess. Complete with a picture of a well endowed skimpy nun holding a pair of mugs. This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it What a charming name. Beside the door, there¡¯s a wooden cat statue. That is to be expected. Most merchants worshiped Ticari, The God of Coins, Trade, Wealth and Labor. Also known as the God of Civilization. And he loves cats. Merchants believe putting a statue of a cat next to their shop¡¯s entrance means you are inviting prosperity. And why cats are sacred by high society. As Reegar entered the inn, everyone focused their eyes on him. From their garbs, he assumes most of them are merchants or caravan guards. A few glanced at him, their eyes fixated on his weapon. The smell of cheap ale filled the air and the sound of conversations, laughter, the bard¡¯s lute, and the wooden floor creaking at each step he took filled his heart with some joy. It¡¯s been a while since he entered such an establishment. He approached the bar and saw a white cat lying on the table. Behind it stood the bartender, a dwarf with a salt-and-pepper beard, expertly poured drinks for the customers, his experienced hands moving with precision. ¡°By the gods, lad. Did a giant chew and spit yer out?¡± he exclaimed with excitement in his voice. Reegar took a seat on the stool and smiled. ¡°Nay, ser dwarf. A monster has not swallowed me. Yet.¡± ¡°Truly? I suggest sticking with the swallow and escape part. Might win ye some drinks.¡± The dwarf chuckled as he wiped the table and placed a mug brimmed with ale. ¡°Well then. Welcome friend to the Immoral Priestess. Allow me to introduce myself, I am Vorgahn Strongbeard, the owner of this remarkable establishment. There are four rules in this establishment. No magic. These include throwing fires, lightning, acid. No contracts nor pacts with devils, angels, feys, or any beings will be signed here. No summoning either. Three, no weapons in a brawl.¡± ¡°And the fourth one?¡± Reegar asked, and he sat on the bar stool. ¡°In this establishment,¡± he declared, ¡°My words carry the weight of law.¡± Reegar shrugged his shoulders, agreeing with the bartender. ¡°Good.¡± Vorgahn continued to clean his mugs. ¡°And you are?¡± ¡°Reegar Greywalker. Paladin of Kuzunoha.¡± ¡°Kuzunoha. The Lady of Nine. I never encountered Her paladins before. Usually travelers, gamblers, adventurers.So, ser paladin what will you be having?¡± ¡°Hot chocolate.¡± He answered, and the bartender looked at him, bewildered. ¡°Coffee, then.¡± Vorgahn poured coffee for the paladin. ¡°So, where are you headed?¡± ¡°Was thinking of snuggling myself in Stormpoint till spring. But today, I¡¯m thinking here. How much for a room?¡± ¡°Premium costs one rugum and common is six temne. You¡¯ll get a hearty meal for your dinner. Not including breakfast.¡± Reegar felt his coin purse and clicked his tongue. ¡°That is quite expensive, ser dwarf.¡± ¡°In these parts, Crestwood stands as the last bastion of civilization. Naganuum Forest lies close by.¡± Naganuum Forest. Reegar recognized that name. A famous, or infamous forest said to host scores of monstrosities and ruins that cover the central part of Lycia. The green tomb they called it, the burial site of countless adventurers, treasure seekers and fools. Reegar¡¯s ear picks a new sound amidst the chaos of the tavern. Or the lack of it. His gaze shifted to the stage, where he noticed a woman walking to the stage. Her steps are graceful and precise, drawing the crowd to her. Her golden hair flowing down to her shoulder. She is of medium height, around five foot six. Her slightly tapered ears mark her as a half-elf. A pair of green eyes met the crowd, who silently watched, anticipating her next move. She sat on a stool in the middle of the stage. Her hand softly brushed the lute. Her voice is beautiful, clear, angelic and haunting is how Reegar would describe it. She sang a bloody tale. The tale of Dirk Sunrise. A braggart, a bandit and his demise by Solitaire Hellmagus. A good story and some swear it is historical. But he doubts the validity. For one who named themselves Solitaire Hellmagus? It¡¯s like calling yourself Midnight Rosedark or Bloody Chastity. The song gave him goosebumps despite hearing it and its variations across towns. Talent or magic? The crowd gave a roaring applause after she finished her song. Cheers echo the tavern hall, vibrating the paintings hanging from it. She walks among the crowd with an iron bucket. Grateful patrons and fans placed coins in it as she smiled and greeted them. A bard way of life. Her eyes locked on Reegar. She walked towards him and sat next to him, smiling and extending her right arm. ¡°My name is Aveline Yimras, a teller of tales, master of the lute and flute, and by the gods, a prisoner of tales. Nice to meet you.¡± ¡°Reegar Greywalker.¡± He accepted her hand and noticed she had quite the grip. Her complexion is pale, and she has a reddish cheek. She wore a white blouse with a black leather corset wrapped around her abdomen. It formed an open skirt that covers the side of her waist that extends down to her knees. She wore a long white skirt in contrast to her armor, with a pair of leather boots and gauntlets. Vorgahn shouted something in dwarven to the kitchen. ¡°I¡¯ll get you a good meal, ser paladin. A Priestess¡¯s Bun. You¡¯re going to love it.¡± ¡°That doesn¡¯t sound appropriate¡­¡± Before he could finish, Vorgahn placed a stone mug near him. Her gaze remained fixed on Reegar. She couldn¡¯t see anything behind his visor. Normally, she sees the wearer¡¯s eyes, but with this paladin, darkness prevails. There is nothing behind the visor. Her mind brimmed with intrigue and questions. She wriggled her finger at the amulet around Reegar¡¯s neck. ¡°Only a paladin or a cleric of Eris can wear a steel amulet. So, tell me, holy warrior of the Red General, where are you heading?¡± Reegar took a sip from the mug and uttered a single word. Stormpoint. He turned the stool and faced her. ¡°I have a question. Do you write your songs? How did it come to you? ¡° Aveline smiled at him. ¡°Usually, people would buy me a drink before trying to start a conversation. To answer your question. I wrote my songs. And I took inspiration from what I saw or heard. Why do you ask?¡± Reegar reached for a piece of paper tucked in his belt, its multiple folds giving it a worn-out appearance. Aveline opens the folded paper and notices a list of creatures written on it haphazardly. She raised her right eyebrow and looked at the paladin. ¡°That¡¯s a list. Of the creatures I defeat. I¡¯m sure you can find some inspiration from them.¡± Pausing for a moment, Reegar took in the lively atmosphere of the bustling tavern. ¡°And maybe, get me famous too.¡± Aveline chuckled. She heard many adventurers proclaim heroic deeds in a tavern. Or over proclaim it. Tall tales, most of them. But she heard no one handed a bard a list of dead targets. She read the list and noticed the list comprised a few direwolves, a pair of firebears, a lot of cultists, several demons and devils, and a few ghouls and zombies. ¡°And how do you defeat these creatures?¡± ¡°Swinging my sword. I slash, slash, slash. And they fall.¡± Reegar answered proudly, and Aveline looked at him with a confused look. ¡°I sometimes stab too. And smite.¡± The bard chuckled softly, returning the paper. ¡°I need more than slash and stab to write a song, sir Greywalker. I need the why and the how. How did you stumble upon these creatures for example. Did you encounter a tragic maiden looking for a hero to save her village?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t recall meeting such a maiden. But I once followed a fox and encounter a crazed Bogron terrorizing a village. Big green toad-creature with warts and slime all around the body and a prehensile tongue.¡± Aveline raised her left eyebrow in amusement. He said he followed a fox. And he has a nine-tail fox amulet around his neck. Definitely a paladin of Kuzunoha. She never followed or formed a party with a paladin before. It could be an interesting experience. Vorgahn returned and placed large circular bread on the table with smoke coming out of the cover. He placed a knife and fork next to the bread. ¡°This is the Priestess¡¯ Bun. Its bread, hollowed out, plastered with butter and filled with meat, mushrooms, meat again and cheese. Sweet, juicy and meaty,¡± he explained and handed a spoon and fork to Reegar, who gratefully accepted it. ¡°Finally, food.¡± Chapter 3 Reegar eats voraciously while Vorgahn and Aveline watch, amazed and disgusted, as he devours the bread and meat. Vorgahn pushed another mug, afraid the paladin might choke up. And Aveline raised her hand, trying to object or asked him to slow down. However, her disgust overwhelmed her, and she forced a smile. After gulping down the mug, Reegar requested another. ¡°So might telling me why you wanted to be my muse?¡± ¡°I always wanted to see a paladin in action. To describe it as the adventure goes. It sets the mood to write something spectacular.¡± She leaned closer at Reegar and he could smell her perfume. The smell of roses. ¡°Who do you fight? Who do you defend? Am I fit to be defended? Or is there a certain criteria?¡± Reegar let out a grunt. He placed his coin pouch on the table. ¡°I don¡¯t protect murderers, rapists, cannibals, cultists, slavers, necromancers, vampires, mummies, wererats, wereravens. Monster breeders. I also hunt and kill those creatures. And bandits.¡± A smile appeared before Aveline. ¡°I¡¯m none of the above. I am but a storyteller whose talents wasted to entertain the dregs who called this place a good hanging spot.¡± She smiled at Reegar while Vorgahn stared at her. Aveline began her tale, telling how she came into this town from Bloodport. Traveling through the league, stopping by inns and taverns. Singing songs and collecting stories. Reegar gave a glance to Vorgahn, who quietly sipped coffee, ignoring her. She spoke about the incident. ¡°It all started with a card game,¡± she said, trying to gauge Reegar¡¯s attention. ¡°The tavern was loud and lively and we are here, a round table. Me and several others.¡± She started drumming up the tension, her eyes locked on her only audience. ¡°She uses her bardic magic to cheat on the game,¡± Vorgahn spoke, leaving the bard speechless. She glanced at the dwarf, who was still sipping coffee. ¡°You may continue,¡± he spoke. He took some enjoyment out of it. ¡°Long story short, our stumpy bartender decided my punishment was to entertain guests without pay for two weeks. But I get free ale, food and listen to all kinds of gossip. Adventurers love to talk like fishmonger¡¯s wives.¡± ¡°It¡¯s been six weeks.¡± Vorgahn spoke. ¡°And she still refused to leave. Until now. It¡¯s not like I¡¯m complaining. Her acts do increase the number of people here.¡± ¡°And now you want to leave because of me?¡± ¡°This paladin is smart.¡± Reegar can sense desperation hidden behind the cheerful word. But he couldn¡¯t find the reason why. The bartender doesn¡¯t seem to know either. It could be that she is bored. Or she wants something. People always wanted something. Reegar decides if he can find anything in town to find out what. ¡°I¡¯ll return in the evening, and we¡¯ll converse.¡± Reegar stood up. The paladin exited the tavern, surveying the town. He remembers seeing a blacksmith near the south gate. And there¡¯s a temple near him. Surrounding structures are predominantly wooden, with a few made of bricks. Beyond the walls, one can see the Nagannum Forest. The townsfolk engage in their occupations, while adventurers wander around. He desired to go shopping, but he recalled the scarcity of coins in his possession. He made his way towards the nearby small temple. With timber beams and posts serving as borders, the small temple takes on the appearance of a circular garden. Flowers encircle the temple, with different types and colors act as layers with wooden benches and small pavement placed between them. A wooden statue stands in the temple¡¯s center. Petite female statue with wheat in left hand and chicken in right. Dhavani, The Goddess of Agriculture. Goddess of Bountiful Harvest. The Green Mother. It¡¯s easy to see why her temple is here. Farmers, hunters, ranchers and those who worked the lands prayed to her. Several townsfolk are here at the temple, sitting at the benches, offering prayers for their crops and animals. A circular wooden building with a roof of grasses and flowers is located behind the temple. Probably where the quarters and office are located. He noticed a few people, probably acolytes, tending the garden temple. Their dresses are of the earthly colors. One of them approached the group and greeted him. She has the build of a farmer, leaned and toned. Her skin bears a tan, as if she has been working in a field. ¡°Welcome traveler. My name is Claire Benoit, priestess of this humble temple.¡± She noticed the obsidian amulet on Reegar¡¯s neck. ¡°A Scale Guardian. Are you here to find respite?¡± ¡°You provide food and shelter?¡± ¡°To those who need it.¡± Reegar cursed under his breath. If he knew there¡¯s free food here, he would go here. But the bun was delicious. He observed the serene ambiance of this location. It¡¯s not his preference, and the temptation to step into a smelly, crowded inn wins in the end. Now he is stuck doing Vorgahn¡¯s bidding. He noticed an acolyte nearby trimming the flowers. She has a blank expression, neither happy nor sad. She carefully trimmed the flower and moved to the next, showing no emotion. ¡°That is Sara. An adventurer discovered her in the forest. Injured, they took her here to heal. And we did what we could.¡± Claire said, stroking Sara¡¯s hair. There is no trace of her injury. Her movement, lacking urgency or character, does not impair her. ¡°She has physically healed. But her mind¡­¡± Claire¡¯s voice ended in a whisper. It troubled her. ¡°Is it magical?¡± She shook her head in response. Reegar bows to her as a sign of respect and gratitude for her. Few bear the burden of looking after ex-adventurers. ¡°There¡¯s many like her around here?¡± Claire nodded. ¡°Lately it¡¯s getting worse. Fewer adventurers returned, unaccounted for. Two days ago, the adventurer we rescued spoke of attacks by a Stompstag.¡± Stompstag. Bizarre creatures, with a stag¡¯s head, antlers, boar-like tusks, and a gorilla¡¯s body. Despite that, they are averse to battle, preferring hunting for fish. Or eat berries. ¡°They disturb the nest?¡± Reegar asks. ¡°The Stompstag attacks their camp.¡± That¡¯s strange. With this close to winter, Stompstags are supposed to be hibernating. Perhaps it didn¡¯t hibernate and had to hunt instead. ¡°Are you familiar with the bard at the inn?¡± Claire nodded. ¡°Aveline I believe. You saw her performance?¡± she asked. Reegar nodded, and she looked toward the inn. ¡°Her skill with the lute is mesmerizing and she is blessed with a beautiful voice.¡± She looked at the paladin and she chuckled. ¡°It seems she caught another with her charm.¡± Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. ¡°Anything else you can tell about her?¡± Claire gave him a sly smile. ¡°I didn¡¯t know paladins dig up dirt on their crush.¡± Before Reegar could retort, she shook her head. ¡°No. She just wound up here one day and decided to make trouble for old Vorghan. And you know the rest. She plays at the inn, interact with people.¡± she explained. ¡°Speaking of interaction, there¡¯s a shrine to the Everwyrm here. I can direct you to it.¡± Claire directed him to a shrine of Hilvendur near the northern gate. According to her, the gate is the main path to Nagannum Forest. Following the instructions, Reegar found the shrine. It is a standing stone. If he has to guess, it¡¯s around fourteen feet high, five feet wide. Carved upon the stone is a drawing of a dragon¡¯s head, the symbol of Hilvendur, The Dragon God of Protection and Protectors. Adventurers place various offerings from arrow tips to small wooden ornaments in the shape of shields by the stone. The paladin kneels before the stone, his hands clasped together. He closed his eyes and began his prayer. As he continues his prayer, he can feel the coldness of stones around him. The air is stale and has a metallic taste to it. Upon opening his eyes, he¡¯s in a stone hallway. Violet glyphs ran along the walls, and from a distance, he saw black metallic coffins nailed to the wall. Copper tubes spread out from the coffins. Before he could comprehend the unfamiliar surroundings, he finds himself back at the monolith. It seems the dragon god answered his prayer and gave him a new task. ¡°Shit.¡± he grumbled and an arrow from the offering flies and knicks on head. All he desires is a cozy spot to snuggle and dine throughout the upcoming winter. But a vision from the Everwyrm isn¡¯t one to disregard. Slowly, he stood up and looked at the sky above. A pleasant view. Peaceful view. From the sky, snow fell. Winter is here. I hate trekking in the snow. It seems he should start questioning the townsfolk about Nagannum. He can¡¯t just ask random townsfolk. Results would be questionable. Adventurers are an excellent source of information. They usually know or heard something. And they gossip like fishwives. Adventurers usually visit four places in a town. The blacksmith, the magic shop, the inn, and the temple. He has already been to the temple, so he can cross that. He can visit the inn later and question the bard. That leaves the blacksmith and the magic shop. The blacksmith stands across town. Maybe the magic shop is nearer. He asks several villagers nearby and they say the same two things. Nagannum is more dangerous nowadays. A suspicious little lizard runs the magic shop. A kobold. The magic shop is near the town center, a regular-looking shop. The sign reads Vig¡¯s Emporium. He entered the shop and saw a kobold open a dubious purple colored potion to an old man. Reegar caught the scent of charcoal, mustard, and old shoes coming from the bottle. The elderly man sipped, nearly vomited, but the kobold held him, forcing him to finish. The elderly man shivers before he gasps and smiles. He paid the kobold and ran out of the shop, happily. Reegar approached the counter, and the kobold looked at him. The kobold¡¯s scales are red. He wore a red and purple robe that softly catches the light, showing its luster. It¡¯s uncommon to witness a kobold donning silk. With a black slit, the kobold¡¯s eyes are a striking yellow color. It has a pair of black horns. The right horn has an iron ring on it. The iron band has a logo carved into it. A mountain split by a wizard¡¯s staff. The symbol of Stormpoint Academy. The shop looks like a typical magic shop. Behind the counter, the shopkeeper spruces potions on the shelves while displaying staves and wands on the wall. The display stands show accessories like rings and bracelets. The cabinets hold spell scrolls. ¡°Welcome paladin. I am Vig, a humble kobold and the owner of this fine establishment. May you enlighten me of what you seek?¡± The paladin almost laughed. A humble kobold. That is new. ¡°I want to ask about Nagannum.¡± Reegar asked while browsing the scrolls. They separated the scrolls into two sections. Combat and daily lives. Flame ray spell, Magic barrage spell, creating hot coffee spell, cleaning clothes with the scent of lavender spell. There are few for gardening. The kobold is sitting, leg crossed on the counter while puffing on a wooden pipe. With his finger, he lift a gray cloak and pulled it near him. ¡°It¡¯s already snowing. This cloak has fire glyphs infused in it, so it can keep you warm when you go to Nagannum.¡± ¡°If it¡¯s over two rugums, I don¡¯t want it.¡± ¡°Being a miser is the surest path to death.¡± Vig answered and took another puff. ¡°You can¡¯t come to a shop and ask for information without purchase, son.¡± Reegar grunted and placed a spell scroll on the table. It¡¯s a spell to create hot cocoa. The components needed are a steel mug and water. He handed Vig four silver coins, and the kobold grinned. ¡°I heard stories about people sighting monsters that live in the deepest region of the forest near the edge.¡± ¡°Stompstags?¡± ¡°Among others. The ruins there are a major attraction for adventurers. Dungeons filled with treasures. In golds and magic.¡± His eyes locked on the paladin as he spoke, trying to gauge Reegar¡¯s interest. Reegar turned to him, and Vig smile. Adventurers are easy to fish out. Dangle the word gold and magic and they are hooked. ¡°What kind of ruins have smooth surface walls with glyphs on them?¡± Vig stood up on the counter as soon as he heard that. ¡°You¡¯ve entered the forest? Have you seen it? Where?¡± Reegar shook his head. ¡°I receive a vision. Or premonition.¡± Vig squinted his eyes at Reegar¡¯s answer. He¡¯s a paladin of Hilvendur, so he doubts he is lying. If the dragon god shows him that dungeon, that means one thing. There is trouble brewing on the horizon. Before Vig could press for more answers, an explosion rocked the town. Catching everyone by surprise. Rushing out of the store, Vig and Reegar witnessed a fire-engulfed building. From the forest, a growling sound emerged as three flaming rocks streaked across the snowy sky towards the town. The flaming rocks hit several buildings, homes, shops, and one hit directly at the tavern. Flashes of Aveline¡¯s face streaked before Reegar and he ran towards the tavern, with Vig hurried behind him. The townsfolk ran around the street looking for shelter. Reegar pushed through them as the town bell rang. Flames engulfed the tavern as both of them arrived. The upper floors have collapsed, blocking the door and windows. Screams and cries for help echo from the wreckage. Inhaling deeply, Reegar channeled his divine powers into his throat and lungs. With a mighty roar, he caused the debris to scatter with a resounding boom. Running into the flames, he saved the first person he saw, tossing him out through the door. He moved in deeper, but the heavy smoke caught him by surprise, blowing into his face and causing him to stumble and cough. His sight is so limited that he can only perceive the color red. With a quick sprint, Vig moved past him and manipulated the hot smoke with his hands, gathering it before sending it up into the sky, where it dissipated. With the smoke gone, Reegar and Vig moves in deeper, carrying the injured patrons out. He reached the bartender¡¯s table and found both Aveline, Vorgahn, and the cat curling behind. Pulling them both up, Reegar ran. Vig rushed to the kitchen, taking the cook and two other survivors with him. The survivors lie on the ground as the sound of the town bell continues to toil in the background. They watched as the inn collapsed and the flame burned through. ¡°What happened?¡± the sound of Vorghann voiced cracks as tears fell from his eyes. His lifework is nothing more than ashes. The brewing, food, the service. Everything is gone. He inquired again, then turned to his savior. Reegar shook his head. Aveline lies on the ground looking at the sky, reddened by flame. The snow continues to fall, blanketing the land white. She looked at Reegar. Though unseen, she could still perceive the gaze. A powerful anger simmering within. She raised her arms and looked at her fingers.All ten of them, still there. She wriggles them, trying to feel them. A town is attacked and someone capable is here. What a bard was supposed to do but to capitalize it. A good story, a good ending. A good payment. Aveline looked at the destruction around her and she took a deep breath. She pulled out a book from her bag and began writing. She could monetize this tragedy, turning it into a song. Or a poem. Aveline stood up and stood next to Reegar and Vig. She saw this kobold before. He bought several kegs of mead from Vorgahn once. Vig they called him. What is his role here? A sidekick for the hero? A comic relief? That sounds good. A clumsy comic relief sidekick who can use magic to support the main character and me, the chronicler. I could edit a few things out. Make him a bit more cute. I could sell plushies of his likeness. Vig stared at Aveline who kept nodding to herself, wondering what¡¯s with her. The trio walked towards the gate with Reegar on the lead. The kobold stretched his arms and fingers before lighting up his pipe. Aveline is humming happily as she jotted down the ideas in her head, making Vig suspicious of her mental state. Several other adventurers and guards were already at the gate, where they could hear shouting. And one word kept repeating. Goblins. Chapter 4 Goblins? Goblins, with their small stature, earn a reputation for their temperamental and tribalistic nature. They attack caravans, unsuspecting wanderers, and, if they grow in numbers, even entire villages with brutal force. They don¡¯t attack a walled town. Reegar looked up and saw another flaming rock flew past him, hitting another building. And they certainly can¡¯t do that. Those adventurers near the wall share the same perspective. They argue, some climb to verify. ¡°It¡¯s true. Goblins are attacking.¡± One of them shouted, followed by another. As the bickering worsened, the trio exchanged bewildered glances, unsure of how to intervene. Someone needs to do something. Before Reegar could react, a deafening roar reverberated through the air. A weathered orc emerged, donned in a tabard of vibrant yellow and green, adorned with the emblem of antlers atop his chain mail. He secures a battle axe to his belt, feeling its weight against his hips. Secured by a belt wrapped around the knee, a wooden peg served as the lower part of his left leg. The scent of burned hair lingered in the air as fire left its mark on his gray hair and beard. His eyes glanced at the adventurers¡¯, and a heavy silence settled in the air. ¡°Glauk, you old one legged bastard. What took you?¡± Aveline waves gleefully at the orc. The orc looked at her, surprised at seeing Aveline. His eyes turned to her leg, noticing it missing the ball and chain. ¡°Where¡¯s your chain?¡± ¡°Nice seeing you too.¡± she smirked and tapped Reegar by the shoulder. ¡°My savior.¡± Glauk glanced at the paladin before shifting his gaze to the watchtower. ¡°Sergeant, report.¡± ¡°Goblins, captain. Scores of them. I believe they¡¯re using catapults, but none in sight, sir. But it came from the forest¡ª¡± before the guard could finish her report, a flaming rock hits the tower, destroying it. Another flaming rock hits the wall, and the wooden wall creaks. Glauk¡¯s eyes widened as he saw the tower crumble, followed by the scream of his men. His fist shakes and shivers as he looks at the wall. It creaked again as another flaming rock hit it. Ten years he served, and Nagannum rarely sent anything out. He got complacent. He sat on his hands and never checked the forest. His fault. His alone. Reegar is unsure about the durability of the wall and whether it can withstand the attack. Despite being fortified by magic, the wooden wall is not indestructible and has its limits. Like the tower. The guard¡¯s voice echoes, repeating the words in his mind. It came from the forest; she said. He saw glimpses of the forest. The canopy is thick. Hiding behind the canopies makes it impossible to shoot catapults with that range and power. And yet they face bombardment. Reegar¡¯s footsteps echoed as he approached the old orc, and with a hint of intrigue, ¡°What is the plan, captain? The town couldn¡¯t endure more of it.¡± Before Glauk could answer, a voice shouted at them from above. ¡°Those are not catapults.¡± The sound of a feminine voice caught their attention, and their eyes followed the source, only to witness a hawk swiftly approaching them with its wings spread wide. Mystical green energy surrounds the hawk, and it took a new form, a woman with long tapered ears, an elf. She is red-haired and wears clothing made of tree barks and leaves. ¡°Those aren¡¯t catapults.¡± She repeated herself as she rushed towards Glauk and Reegar. ¡°Those are goblins. Big ones.¡± Glauk and Reegar looked at each other, confused by the girl¡¯s wording. Big and goblin aren¡¯t the words associated with each other. Vig looked at the girl from top to bottom. ¡°A druid? I never heard of a circle in Nagannum.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not from Nagannum. My name is Mirsyl and you have to believe me. It was an enormous creature throwing those rocks. Around ten feet tall. And they look like goblins. Green skin and everything. But bigger.¡± She said in a panic voice. She keeps turning to the wall and back at the group. ¡°Could it be ogres?¡± Aveline asked, looking at the group. She is concerned that they are not equip to face the trial ahead, at the same time realized most legends are forged by heroes who beat the odds. Maybe ill prepared is one of them. Or luck. She can work with luck. ¡°Ogres will crush any goblins attempting to command them.¡± Vig shuts down the notion. Reegar looked at Mirsyl. She shows no signs of lying. But her breath is heavy and fast. Sweat is running on her brows. She is in a panic. He drew his sword and turned to Vig and Aveline. ¡°We¡¯re going to cut through the goblins and destroy whatever pummeling us. Then we can confirm Mirsyl¡¯s words and hopefully stop the rock throwing nonsense.¡± ¡°We?¡± Vig asked. He looked at Reegar and the wall creaks again, this even louder. ¡°Fuck it. Sure. If I can roast a few goblins before I go, I consider that a victory.¡± ¡°Playing the lute before the curtain calls. Why not.¡± Aveline chuckled. She plays a few strings and looks ready. Glauk moves forward to announce a bounty. One temne for each goblin¡¯s head. The adventurers roar as they hear the bounty. Glauk gave the order to open the gate. Aveline stood behind the front liners, playing her lute. The soft blue light emanating from her strings added an otherworldly ambiance to her performance. Her fingers glide across the strings, each note resonating with the depth of her emotions. The music began with a tempo that resonated with fear, but as she played, it transformed into a more hopeful tune, as if she was using her music to empower those around her and fuel her own determination. Reegar grins. His body is lighter and his mind is clearer, as the will to win pushed his fear aside. The same sentiment applies to everyone in his vicinity. This girl knew how to inspire others. Bards gained power and inspiration either through learning new music, tales, or sometimes humor or tragedy. But that is a shallow explanation. Just as wizards gain power by studying mana and the formula of magic. Just like sorcerers tapped into the power of their bloodlines, bards gained power and magic from their heart and soul. She listens to her heart and expresses it using echoes of mana, transforming it into her music. Conveying her feelings into a tune or a phrase. Strengthening the hearts and valor to those she deem friendly. The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. Reegar observed the adventurers and guards, their gaze filled with anticipation. He regulates his breath and as the gate opened; he rushes headlong into the goblin horde. Reegar swung his blade to the first goblin he saw, decapitating the green pest, and moved to the next. Both adventurers and goblins clash at the entrance, clogging it. Reegar skewered a leaping goblin, and another appeared beneath it, plunging its weapon into his chest. His armor took the strike, but he can still feel the sharpness of its archaic weapon pressing against him. He slammed his pommel onto the goblin¡¯s head, a bone cracking sound confirmed the kill. With a mix of fury and defiance, he keeps on wielding his sword, dispatching many goblins, their black blood showering over him. A smile appeared as he saw the mangle bodies of the goblins. The goblin horde seemed to multiply with every goblin killed, an endless wave of foes. The goblins use their small stature to climb upon one another or to slip beneath to strike their opponents, trying to overwhelm them with numbers. A few adventurers fell to the goblin swarm, but they still keep pressing on, swinging their weapons in the name of gold and survival. Vig and a few mages climbed up the ramp and began battering the horde with their magic. The kobold¡¯s hands glow red, and he clasps them and the glow turns fire. He uttered a single word as he pushed his palm forward. ¡°Fireball.¡± A ball of fire shoots from his palms and races towards the horde. An explosion rocks the ground when the fire makes contact. The sounds of goblins screaming and writhing in pain created confusion among them and the fighters below pushed forward, cleaving through the gate. Vig and the mages continue to shoot and hurled magical and elemental blasts at the goblins as the fighters pushed through. Mirsyl the druid vaults over the wall, a surge of power courses through her, causing her to shape-shift into a bear. With swift movements, she attacks the goblins, biting and slapping them with relentless force. A roaring sound came from the forest and around three huge creatures emerged. Reegar can¡¯t believe what he saw. Goblins, but large. Around ten feet tall. They carry clubs, no. Not clubs. More like wooden logs on their hand as they proceed towards the town. Vig¡¯s eyes widen at seeing the incoming goblin. ¡°By Evelon glowing tits. She spoke the truth.¡± He lights his pipe and grin. ¡°Must run out of rocks to throw.¡± Reegar¡¯s roar echoed through the air, urging his fellow adventurers to push through the horde. As he swung his blade, a dazzling display of fire, lightning, and arrows erupted, obliterating the horde and leaving only a few scattered survivors. The goblins, sensing their loss, scattered. Their larger cousins thundered towards the town, leaving a trail of crushed goblins in their wake. One of them faces Reegar, their eyes filled with rage as it swings the wooden club at the paladin. Reegar blocks it, taking the full brunt of the attack, feeling the force push him back, but he stands his ground, planting his feet to the ground. He then noticed something different about the club. It has fangs embedded on its sides. The clash between Reegar and the large goblin was a savage display of raw power and aggression as both unleashed a flurry of precise strikes, aiming for the vital spots. With a swift motion, the blade sliced through the skin, leaving a trail of sable in its wake. The goblin roared in pain and black blood exited the wound, splattered on Reegar¡¯s armor and a few hit the ground. As the blood hits the ground, it releases a smell. A smell similar to decomposing meat. Reegar moves forward, feeling the weight of his blade in his hands as he aims it towards the goblin¡¯s chest. But the large goblin moves faster. It slammed its club into the paladin¡¯s chest, and Reegar winces as his ribs crack under the force, feeling the club¡¯s teeth piercing through his armor and snagging his flesh. With a swift and precise motion, the goblin pulled the club upward, a wicked grin spreading across its face. The teeth ripped through Reegar¡¯s armor and flesh, lacerating and shredding the paladin. Reegar¡¯s voice failed him, leaving him with nothing but a whimper. He stumbled back, feeling the warm blood seeping through his fingers from his chest. But he remembers his oath. The paladin stood firm, planting his feet on the ground with nothing more than a will or spite. He can¡¯t fall. He mustn¡¯t fall. He is a paladin of Hilvendur and he shall protect and defend those behind him by making sure those opposed to him fall. That is his oath. Gritting his teeth, the paladin tightly gripped his weapon, preparing himself for the goblin¡¯s next assault with its menacing club. A golden mist seeped out from between his teeth, while a pair of radiant golden orbs flickered to life behind his visor. His blade glows in golden light as a single word escapes his lips. ¡°Radiant Smite.¡± He traced the goblin¡¯s swing and leaped back to avoid the attack and launched himself forward, plunging his blade into the goblin¡¯s chest and pushing the blade down, cleaving the torso. With a loud thud, the goblin crashed to the ground. The move sends him flying and tumbling to the ground. As he lies on the ground, he can feel the damp grass beneath him, making it difficult to get a grip and push himself up. Everything around him is spinning, leaving him disoriented and unable to discern up from down. The metallic scent of warm blood lingers in the air as it drips from his chest and mouth. The simple act of breathing becomes excruciating, as he suspects that the broken shards of his ribs are puncturing his lungs. His hand emits a radiant golden glow as the divine power courses through his veins, healing the wound. Vig and the mages unleashed all their powers on the remaining large goblins, while one goblin hurled its wooden club at the wall, shattering it and sending the mages tumbling down. A few teleports to the ground safely. Others are not as fortunate, their bodies crashing onto the hard surface. Covered in fire, Vig descended gracefully, leaving behind a trail of flickering embers. Vig noticed Aveline, the bard, swaying on her feet, her mana depleting as she poured it into her song. She continued to flick her lute until Vig placed his hand on her arm. ¡°Rest now young missy. We¡¯ll take care of the rest. Hopefully.¡± he said and rushed to battle. Mirsyl, in her bear-form, swipes at the large goblin, her powerful claws tearing into its thick body. Focusing her attention, she honed in on the goblin¡¯s jugular, jaws poised for a decisive attack. She sank her teeth into the goblin¡¯s neck, feeling the flesh give way under her bite as she ended its life. Glauk and the rest of the adventurers attacked the last large goblin, aiming at its legs, knocking it down to its knees. Vig throws three fire rays at the goblin¡¯s face and the adventurers finish the goblin, swinging and plunging their weapons into it. Reegar lay on the ground, with the terrible smell of rotten meat permeating around him. His battered body stiffened, and he could feel a burning sensation emanating from his muscles. He looked up and saw Vig extending his hand, a friendly smile on his face. ¡°You¡¯re too short to pull me up.¡± ¡°It¡¯s the gesture that counts, boy.¡± Reegar pushed himself up. The victorious cheer echoed from the gate and soon followed by the survivors of the city. He waves at the clapping survivors who cheered at him. The paladin grunted in dismay as he surveyed the gruesome scene at the gate. A few questions pop into his mind. Why do the goblins attack? And how do goblins the size of ogres exist? Where and how did they create those damnable flaming rocks? Does he get a free room and meals for his extended stay here? He looks at one of the dead goblins. Green skin, bald, long pointy nose, with a wart on the right side. Their knife ears are floppy on the left side. He looks at the next goblin and it is the same face, the same wart, the same nose shape. He looks at the third one. The same face. He shook his head and rubbed his eyes. He still sees the same. All the goblins, including the larger ones, appear indistinguishable. He turns to Vig, who is standing next to him, continuously puffing his pipe. His gaze turns to the forest. He can feel something is calling him, urging him to enter. It seems he has to postpone his Stormpoint vacation.