《Ambition's Plague》


 Wringing Out a Goblin 1a.

    Wringing Out a Goblin: 1A


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    Cricket Stonespur''s goal had been the shores of Karrnath, where the marshal culture of discipline and stoic strength seemed an obvious choice to begin this journey of discovery and diplomacy.After all, although an age apart from the Goblinoids who once ruled Khorvaire as the mighty Dhakaani Empire, the Goblins of Stonespur Island are still a warrior race.In the ages that passed from the fall of the empire, they lived apart, marooned at first, but then blessed in their isolation.They developed a civilization founded on honor, discipline, and respect; cornerstones of a great society they believe those on the mainland of Khorvaire lack.Violent without purpose, emotional without cause, and fickle without good humor, the rest of the continentis populated by barbarians.Every two hundred years, an emissary is sent to engage in trade and diplomatic relations with the mainland.None has ever returned.What more evidence would the Goblins of Stonespur need?Yet, still they try.


    Karrnath had been Cricket''s goal, but Karrnath was not to be.The great currents running through Death''s Finger Channel joined forces with a storm from the Lhazaar Sea.Cricket''s small vessel was carried by the will of wind and sea, leaving him helpless to navigate its direction.What should have been a week at sea became two. Weary from lack of food, water, and exposure, Cricket catch''s sight of land on the fifteenth day.The sea foams around the tiny vessel as the waves thrash him from bow to stern.With one final crashing wave, he is thrown from his vessel and is encompassed by the cold waters of the bay.The world is going black.This is the end.


    No¡­he is a monk of the Hundred Stones.He has been given a sacred mission by the High Muckmuck, Gargis the Wise.He will not fail before it has even begun.


    He kicks and fights.The waves batter his small frame to and fro¡ªwater fills his lungs, burning his chest.His toes brush something soft, something solid.They find purchase and with ten merciful steps, he flops onto dry land, coughing the salt water from his lungs.


    Although he doesn''t know it, Cricket finds himself in Aundair, near Whisper Rock, just north of the Whisper Woods.The air is cool and crisp.It might even be pleasant were his robes not sopping wet. The narrow beach gives way quickly to reeds and beyond a thick forest of deciduous trees still alive with green.If the land is truly as barbaric as he believes, the sight of a healthy forest is a welcome one.Certainly there will be resources he can use to survive¡ªto gain his bearings before venturing off to face what savages await him in what might pass for villages in this land.Then again, without his spear and equipment, even one as skilled as Cricket in the martial arts might have a hard time fending off wild animals and wilder barbarians.


    A quick search of the beach and he finds his small boat, his spear still lashed to the inside.Unfortunately, none of his other equipment has survived the tumble ashore.His belly rumbles.He is hungry for sure, but more than that, his is thirsty.Dangerously dehydrated in fact.Fresh water needs to be the first priority.


    Turning toward the wood, Cricket hears a sound.A whistle, and not of any bird.It''s not a melody he''s ever heard, but it is definitely a song and is definitely being made by something without feathers.At the edge of the forest, Cricket catches sight of a boy or perhaps a small man, although taller than he by half a foot or so.Whether the creature is an elf child, human, or even a halfling, he can''t be sure, only that it is not a goblin.While Cricket might normally lean toward caution, heishere for diplomacy.Besides, even from this distance, the creature doesn''t appear threatening.


    Cricket approaches the figure, who seems completely preoccupied searching in the reeds and grasses for something.In his right hand he carries what looks to be a mug with steam rising in whisps.Every so often he takes a break from his search to sip from the mug.


    "Good morning friend," Cricket calls in the common tongue.


    The figure turns, a large and welcoming smile stretching over his full face, his bright blue eyes seeming to take in the sight of Cricket with pure joy.On his left cheek is a mark, perhaps a tattoo, although not of any ink Cricket has ever seen before."Hello," the figure says, walking straight over to Cricket and embracing him.


    It is certainly an odd way to greet someone, and not the way of his people, but Cricket reminds himself that he is a diplomat now.For the next five years he is to learn and discover so that he can pass on the knowledge to his people; it is not for him to judge.Returning the gesture with a slight squeeze, Cricket steps back.He can see now that this is no child.It is a halfling.


    "I am Cricket Stonespur, a monk of the Hundred Stones, emissary of the High Muckmuck Gargis the Wise and servant of my people."


    "I''m Coco," the figure responds, confusion seeming to come over his face.He pauses for a brief moment, then smiles again."Do you like coffee?"


    "I wouldn''t know.I have never heard, much less partaken in this Coffee, Coco."


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    Coco gestures to his mug and holds it out for Cricket.With a cautious hand, Cricket takes the mug and examines the contents.The beverage is hot, which is only strange in so much as there doesn''t seem to be a fire or camp site anywhere near¡ªhot tea is a common drink on Stonespur Island.The smell is pleasant, invigorating.More over, Cricket is on the verge of a slow death from thirst.Coco gestures excitedly for Cricket to drink.Cricket has seen Coco take several sips from the mug already, had decides that given the circumstances, he can''t afford to be too cautious.He needs something to drink and he doesn''t wish to offend the barbarian. He takes a sip.The bitter liquid is hot, but not scaling and rather pleasant on the tongue.It does wonders to wash the taste of salt from his mouth.


    "Thank you, Coco.I appreciate this greatly.But I''ve been at sea for longer than I had hoped and need water and food.Is their a village near by?Perhaps a settlement of some kind?"


    Again, Cricket is met with a brief look of confusion from Coco.There is a longer moment of silence before the blue eyes crinkle again in a smile.


    "You can come home with me.Andry will give you water.And food.All you need.And you could meet Mr. Tinker.And Gore and Sniv.Oh, he''s so funny.Just wait.He plays a lute and sings songs and talks and talks.You''ll love him."These words from Coco come with much excitement and all in a burst.


    Cricket bows."I would be in your debt."


    Coco laughs."First we have to find the coffee though.I''m searching for beans."


    Cricket sighs.It is certainly not what he dared to hope when he set off for Khorvaire, but if helping this Coco with he menial labor means fresh water and food, so be it.


    Coco immediately renews his search of the grasses, and now that Cricket can observe him closely, he notices that the halfling seems to be picking up scat from some animal and placing it in a small pouch to his side.Closing his eyes, taking in a deep steadying breath¡ªhe was wrong to expect much more from barbarians¡ªCricket interrupts Coco after his second find.


    "Might I ask what you are doing, Coco?"


    "Finding coffee."


    "I see.And yet, you seem to be picking up some kind of animal droppings."


    Coco laughs."That''s were you find the best beans.The birds eat beans up in Starpeaks where its really hard to get to and then get eaten by the mountain cats.But then the cats come down here the sea to fish.The beans pass right thru, you see.I know its kinda gross, but they are the best bean and only the best beans will do."Coco promptly removes a portion of his finds from the pouch and crumbles it in his fingers, revealing a smattering of light green beans.


    Cricket nods.Perhaps a bit odd, but at least not without a purpose.


    "Its okay though.I have enough," Coco announces proudly.


    Coco gathers his belonging, and after rinsing his hands in the sea, leads Cricket down a worn path that the forest is in the process of reclaiming.As they walk, Coco begins to talk with the same exuberance as before, telling Cricket that Mr. Tinker is old, but oh so smart, and is very nice, except to bandits and closeminded religious asshats (the latter something Coco has obviously overheard but shows no sign of understanding). In truth, Cricket isn''t sure he does either.He also tells him that Gore couldn''t speak or move, or anything until Mr. Tinker fixed him.


    When they reach a small clearing, Coco is still talking incessantly when two figures emerge from the wood.They are dressed in a hodgepodge of leather armer and are carrying clubs with short swords at their belts.Coco looks scared, immediately backing up.He begins to cry as he mutters apologies to Mr. Tinker for going out so far from home.


    "You two make an odd couple," one of the bandits sneers.He jabs his partner with a elbow.


    "What''s with the robes, Goblin.You steal those from some gnomish monk or something."


    And this is exactly what Cricket knew he would find.Crude, barbaric men with no honor, no code.These men deserved a lesson in manors¡ªbut peace before violence¡ªnot for the last time, Cricket reminds himself that he is a diplomat.


    "I am Cricket Stonespur, a monk of the Hundred Stones, emissary of the High Muckmuck Gargis the Wise and servant of my people.If you will forgive me, you seem to be giving my new friend a great deal of distress."


    The bandits look at one another, as if on the verge of laughter if they could just understand the joke.


    "Look, you can go grasshopper.We just came for the halfling.Step aside."


    "I do not wish violence, but it is clear that Coco does not wish to go with you.I can not allow you to take him against his will."Cricket''s voice manages to stay calm and even, despite the ire these men and their rude words have caused.


    "You want to die in the middle of nowhere, who are we to argue¡­"


    Both of the bandits charge at once.Cricket moves Coco behind him and with swift, graceful steps, closes the gap, putting as much distance as he can between Coco and the bandits.Ducking under the first clumsy swing of one of the bandit''s club, Cricket sweeps the bandit''s legs with the butt of his spear, sending the man crashing to the ground.The bandit''s head makes an audible thump on the dry earth.Cricket turns, managing to get an arm up to deflect the first blow from the other thug.The pain is sharp, but Cricket has spent his life in training, hardening his bones, and the strike causes no real damage.He smacks the bandit in the face with the flat of his spear head, causing the bandit to stumble back, just as his companion gains his feet.Both drop their clubs and draw their swords.The fight has escalated.Cricket is outnumbered and now his assailants mean to use deadly force.


    The two bandits managed to coordinate their attack, charging as one, swords raised.With practiced expert motions, Cricket sends the length of hardened oak whirling across his back, the razor sharp spear head biting into flesh and sending both bandits stumbling backwards.There charge disrupted, Cricket presses his advantage, ending the twirling display by slashing the spear across one of their throats.It is enough to convince the surviving thug that he is overmatched and he runs off into the wood.Cricket does not give chase.He steadies his breath.This was not a ideal first contact with the mainland.Expected.But not ideal.He is even more tired, more thirsty, more in need of sustenance.


    Turning to look for Coco, he finds the halfling next to him, the strange tattoo on his cheek glowing with an ethereal purplish hue.Coco touches Cricket''s arm and with a warm, tingling sensation, the pain dissipates and the bruise that had been forming vanishes.Cricket is not a stranger to magic and they surely have healers on Stonespur, but this is a different sort of magic.This is not arcane practice born from years of study.This is something innate.Something from within.


    "You have my thanks, Coco," Cricket says, massaging his arm and admiring Coco''s handywork.


    "Feel better?" Coco responds, now seeming to have complete forgotten his fear or even the events that he caused it.


    "I do.Thank you."


    Coco looks down at his mug, extends it toward Cricket and smiles."Coffee?"

 Wringing Out a Goblin 1b.

    Shin Quickmouth strums lazily at his lute. The melody is a melancholy one. He''s spent a week now in the company of Tinker, an aged and wizened artificer and Andry, a middle aged halfling with the Mark of Hospitality. Difficult to pass up such comforts, especially this far from the nearest city. It has been a week of being warm, well feed, and treated with respect, something he doesn''t often experience in his travels. The life of a Kobold bard is not exactly an easy one, which is why he mostly sticks to comedy to earn his way; somehow laughter is more easily accepted from a two foot one inch tall lizard creature than epic verse and history (lizard isn''t fair, there are many who believe the Kobold hail from the progeniture dragons themselves). Shin makes a mental note to be less hard on himself, but in his time here he has grown more and more pessimistic about his chosen passion and himself. More and more doubtful that he will ever find what he sought when he''d set out from his home tunnels beneath Fairhaven.


    Shin is a historian at heart and in particular he is a study of the ancient Dhakaani Empire that once ruled over the whole of Khorvaire. He has attempted to restore the glory of this bygone empire through tale and song, but few if any care. Even the goblinoids he has come across have little interest, too focused on the present to care for their rich and glorious history. Perhaps that is why they are mostly thugs, living lives from hand to mouth, sword to coin. That or Ghaal''har, living mostly in Droamm and battling each other for scraps of the power they once had.


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    Sighing to himself, Shin looks up from his lute and catches sight of Coco in the distance. The strange halfling is not alone and it doesn''t take long for Shin to recognize the familiar shape and stature of a goblin. But this is no thug or Ghaal''har tribesman. This is something different. From the medallion around his neck, catching the dappled light through the trees to the strange white robes, this is definitely something different. Pessimism is nearly instantly replaced by the optimism that so often drove his mother to shake her head. It may be ridiculous, but there could even be a chance that this is exactly what Shin has been looking for. After all, the Dhakaani once ruled the whole of the world, why couldn''t there be a true descendent here, in Aundair, walking right into his life. Destiny is a funny thing. How could Shin have ever despaired?


    Shin puts down his lute and steps forward, bracing himself for the vigorous hug that is soon to come. He hears Coco shout a greeting and feels the arms of the halfling envelope him.


    "Shin, you won''t believe the adventure we had. Do you know my new friend?" Coco says excitedly, breaking the embrace. He gestures to the goblin.


    With a reluctant, but noble expression, the goblin steps forward and to Shin''s surprise, also embraces him. Stepping back, the goblin bows.


    "I am Cricket Stonespur, a monk of the Hundred Stones, emissary of the High Muckmuck Gargis the Wise and servant of my people. Well met."


    A massive smile plays across Shin''s face, exposing his sharp, pointed teeth. He tries to reign in his excitement.


    "I''m Shin, Shin Quickmouth. I can not tell you how long I have waited to meet you. I have so many questions. It''s an honor." The words tumble out of his mouth in a rush, but he can''t help it.


    Cricket seems confused, or perhaps just taken aback, it''s hard to tell. The goblin clears his throat.


    "Coco offered me the hospitality of your home. I don''t wish to intrude, but I''ve been at the mercy of the sea for some time and¡­"


    "Oh, say no more. Say no more. Come in. Andry will fix you right up. She loves visitors, even ones far below your significance. She''ll be delighted. Come, come." Shin gestures with large sweeping hand motions and opens the door to the cottage. "Andry, we have one more for dinner."


    Shin shouldn''t have been surprised. Having something to do with Andry''s Mark of Hospitality, she has set the large wooden table in the center of the main room for six, were yesterday it had been set for five. Laid out is an assortment of breads, cheeses, fall vegetables from the garden out back, and a roasted duck or goose¡ªShin isn''t exactly a connoisseur of poultry and fowl, it all tastes like chicken to him. The plump halfling woman appears from Tinker''s workshop in the back of the cottage, shaking her head dismissively, something she often does after speaking with Tinker. She makes her way straight to Cricket.


    "Oh, my. Look at you dear. You look as if you haven''t eaten in days. Sit, sit. I''ll get you some water. No need to wait, not for you. Poor dear." Her head shaking only increases as she forcefully guides Cricket to a chair at the table.


    "Thank you, Mistress," Cricket says, bowing his head.


    "Mistress, what nonsense. You call me Andry, like everyone else."


    Cricket bows again, curtly. "I am Cricket Stonespur, a monk of the Hundred Stones, emissary of the High Muckmuck Gargis the Wise and servant of my people."


    "Now I hope you don''t expect me to say all that every time I call you to table," Andry says with a laugh. "I can manage Cricket or Mr. Stonespur, as you like."


    "Is Andry your given name?"


    "Aye."


    "Then Cricket, if it pleases you."


    Andry smiles. "Eat up then Cricket. Don''t be shy." She turns to Shin and Coco. "Sit down so he doesn''t feel like a fish in a bowl. Eat up. You know Tinker is going to take his time."


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    As if on cue, the door to the workshop swings open and a tall, thin older man appears in the room, with wispy white hair combed back over his pate and an ill kept grey beard that looks as if it couldn''t be bothered to grow out properly. He shuffles to the head of the table and sits down gingerly.


    "I can hear you babbling about me. The door isn''t that thick," he says, his voice deep and rumbling, rolling over his r''s. "If I remember correctly, this is my cottage."


    "If I remember correctly, I told you I would be happy to leave and let it fall apart if you continue to show up late to dinner."


    Tinker scoffs, but he turns his attention to the food. "It smells good. Wheat or barely in the bread?"


    Andry doesn''t answer him, instead resuming her head shaking.


    Shin waits for a everyone to get situated and for Cricket to get at least a few mouthfuls in before he starts asking his questions. Waiting ten minutes seems fair enough. Besides, he can''t possibly contain his excitement any longer.


    "Master Stonespur, please, tell me. Your home, is that where the empire settled after it fell¡ªalthough fell is perhaps not exactly correct. You suffered a defeat, for sure, well, not for sure. I''m sure if the Gatekeepers had not come you would have still won the war against the Daelkyr, but I am right in assuming that you merely retreated to this Stonespur Island? Where is it by the way?"


    "By the Host, little bard. Give the pour fellow some time to breath. Can''t you see he''s been through the ringer." Tinker rubs at his temples. "You have a knack for song and joke, but you can''t appreciate peace and quiet on your life. Perhaps with a bit of quiet reflection you could learn a few of the whiskey songs I mentioned." Pouring himself several fingers of dark liquid from a flask, he turns to Coco. "You rclothes are all disheveled again. Have you been out by the shore?"


    Coco frowns. "That''s were the best beans are."


    "I know that. Which is why I said you could go, but not without Gore."


    Heavy foot steps fall against the stone floor as the figure of Gore appears at the bottom of the stairs. "He didn''t tell me he was leaving," the deep, mechanical voice intones, his hinged metal jaw working in an approximation of human speech patterns.


    Gore stands nearly half way to seven feet. His armored body is rust worn with the exception of his right arm which shines with a golden hue very different than the rest of his body. The sinews of organic metal visible in the joints between his armor are a deep violet, almost black. This is the Warforged Tinker rebuilt, saving him from death.


    "I''m sorry Gore, but I didn''t want to bother you again," Coco says.


    "You don''t bother me. It is my job to keep you safe."


    Coco turns his eyes back down to his food. Then, as if noticing his mug for the first time, he asks: "Is this tea?"


    "Yes," Andry admits. "Coffee is for after dinner, Coco."


    "It''s good that you have a guard for young Coco," Cricket offers. "It seems that there are ruffians in the woods who would do him harm."


    This gets Tinker''s attention and Shin readies himself for the tirade that is soon to follow from the old man. Tinker takes a large swill of whiskey and sets his glass down on the table with a thump.


    "Gerald''s men again?"


    Coco shakes his head. "Don''t know."


    Tinker looks to Cricket. "Of course you wouldn''t know. Gerald the Brown. A local bandit leader. Seems to think I have something of value. Something he can ransom by taking Coco hostage."


    "Which is why this is no place for him. We are out in the middle of nowhere and they are just highwaymen without a highway," Andry states flatly.


    Tinker''s brows narrow. There is something more than he is letting on. In fact, and Shin had been thinking this for a while.


    "Humph. Enough of the Brown. Coco, no more. You must go with Gore if you plan to venture out. I won''t have this discussion again. And I won''t be coming after you if he gets you. I''m much too odd for such nonsense."


    Andry slaps the old man on the arm. "You will certainly go after him."


    Tinker ignores her. "Cricket, may I ask. What part did you play in the war? This island you mention. Did your tribe take a side?"


    Cricket looks confused. "What war do you speak of? My people have lived in peace for generations beyond even my great great-grandfather''s time. Our dedication to the art of war, The Hundred Stones, and one another has kept any invaders from our shores."


    It is everyone else''s turn to look confused, although a smile again returns to Shin''s face. If Cricket doesn''t even know about the Last War, then he doesn''t even know about the Five Nations. About Mournlands. The Treaty of Thronehold. This is even better than he hoped. A true connection to the old empire. A true goblin of Dhakaani.


    Tinker clears his throat. "Surely you don''t mean that your people don''t even know of the war?"


    "My apologies, Tinker, sir. I do not. If anyone does, it would be the High Muckmuck and I spoke to him personally, my honor it was, before coming to your shores. He did not mention a war."


    "Fascinating." Tinker scratches his beard. "I didn''t think any part of Khorvaire had been spared."


    The conversation continues, with Andry telling the goblin of her time in Gatherhold as a member of House Ghallanda. How she cared for Tinker after his service in the war and has been caring for him ever since. They came upon Coco by chance and added him to their small makeshift family, although with his obvious gifts, Andry believes that Vedkyar is a better place for the young halfling. In her humble opinion, he belongs with House Jorasco where his gifts will be common place and less likely something to be exploited or taken advantage of, but Tinker scoffs.


    "Karrnath is a decrepit, evil place. What kind of king would raise undead to fight for him. The people of Aundair would have never stooped so low. It is an abomination. If the Sovereign Host truly plays a part in our lives, then punishment will come for the citizens of Karrnath. Luckily for them, I have my doubts. But still, the dead should be left alone. Life is to be created. Either the normal way or with wit and skill. It should not be resurrected into servitude."


    Attention seems to be drawn to Gore, whose expression is unreadable.


    "The war was hard on Aundair, Cricket. Our land annexed away. We lost Thaliost to Thrane. The Eldeen Reaches abandoned us, succeeding half-way through the war. In my time at Arcanix, as a young man, studying, learning the ways of artificy, I would have never thought such a thing possible. But here we are. So better away from the cities I say. Better away from all of it." Tinker finishes his glass of whiskey, his words beginning to slur. "You stay as long as you like. Nothing out there but crap and more crap."


    Andry goes over to Tinker and helps him to his feet. Gore comes to his side to steady him.


    "Come on you old fool. Time for bed," Andry says, her voice doing a decent impression of sounding exasperated, but Shin can hear the tenderness behind the fa?ade.


    They aren''t gone long. Rather than take the old Artificer up the steps, Gore and Andry take him to his workshop where a cot it kept for just this occasion. Shin doesn¡¯t have time to pepper Cricket with another series of questions and when Andry returns, she quickly sets to getting Cricket settled in a room to rest and recoup from his ordeals.


    The tune Shin plays while he drinks his coffee on the stoop beside Coco is a much more upbeat and hopeful one. He has found his muse¡ªalthough research subject might be the better word. No, he thinks, muse is better. Surely this monk is destined to do great things and in that moment, sitting on the stoop, Shin decides he will be there to spread word of his greatness. To record his deeds and in turn, show everyone that his faith in the Dhakaani Empire was not misplaced. It is alive and well.


    He settles in to sleep with a wide toothy smile. It might take a while for the goblin to recover fully, but soon, their adventure will begin. Sleep comes and the world fades away.


    Shin is in a tavern, telling his tales of Dhakaani''s renaissance to rousing applause, cheers from all corners when a sharp crack snaps him awake. His room is dark. This is no tavern. The building shakes. A rumble and a groan of wood and stone precedes the screams, high pitched and desperate. He rushes from his room, more from curiosity than bravery. The floor to Andry''s room has caved in along with part of the interior wall. Shin can see no sign of her.


    The air is filled with a strange scent. A mixture of chemicals and magic that burns at Shin''s snout. He can hear the deep desperate curses of Gore, full of emotion he''s never heard from the Warforged before. Shiv sees Cricket rush from his room and without a moment''s hesitation, turn and yell. "Watch over the little one before rushing down the stairs.


    The Goblin must mean Coco, who is also out of his room, his expression terrified, on the verge of tears. Shiv runs over to him. He is unharmed. But what if Tinker or Andry are less lucky. Coco might be needed.


    "Come, Coco. Stay with me," Shiv says, hoping the tremor in his voice isn''t too noticeable.


    They make their way downstairs. Gore is trapped beneath the rubble from the workshop where the interior walls look to have been blown out. Everything in the room is pushed to the edges, broken or shattered to some degree or another. Two bodies Shin doesn''t recognize are splattered against the wall nearest the door. Inside the ruined workshop is the unmistakable figure of Tinker, his body mangled and motionless.

 Wringing Out a Goblin 1c.

    Cricket smells the magic on the air.  It fills his nostrils, stinging as he tries to steady his breath, calming his nerves and lowering his heart rate.  In a crisis, it does one no good to allow emotion to rule over one''s body.  He runs down the stairs after telling Shin, the strange little bard, to watch after the halfling.  Cricket has little doubt that what he will find below is something better kept from Coco''s eyes.


    Powerful magic.  It is the only explanation for what he finds at the bottom of the steps.  The inner workshop has been blow apart by some great force, collapsing part of the upper flow and smashing the bodies of two men¡ªCricket can only assume they are intruders of some kind.  Gore is trapped.  Part of the upper floor has fallen on top of him, pinning him beneath.  Tinker''s body lays in the ruined workshop, but he is beyond anyone''s aid, so Cricket moves to Gore.


    Bending his knees and gripping the beam of wood, Cricket strains with all of his strength, but all that he can manage is the slightest shift of the wood.  It is enough for Gore to free one of his arms.


    "We push together," Gore calls, readying his free hand to push the wood away.  "We must hurry.  They took Andry."


    Cricket frowns.  He has many questions, but now is not the time.  The stories his people tell of this land prove true yet again, for what kind of barbarian would break into the cottage of an old man and kidnap a helpless woman.  Only a barbaric, faithless people without code, honor, or even decency.  He nods to Gore.


    "As one.  Ready, lift."


    Working together, they manage to shift the weight just enough that Gore is able to free his other arm.  Gore places both his hands against the bean.  Tension builds in the cords of living metal beneath his armor and his eyes flair as he presses the beam away from his chest, shifting the rubble and freeing himself.  He immediately makes for the door.


    "Just a moment," Cricket calls, rushing after the Warforged.


    "We must go now," Gore shoots back.  "They took Andry.  They killed Tinker.  I will not let this stand.  I will not lose her to these men."


    "Was it Gerald''s men?" comes the voice of Shin, appearing at the bottom of the steps.


    Cricket watches in frustration as Coco begins to wail, running to Tinker''s lifeless body, the tattoo on his face glowing as he tries his magic.  For a moment, there is a collective intake of breath as Shin and Cricket both seem to wonder if just maybe¡­but it is too late.  The old artificer is gone.


    "I told you to wait," Cricket directs toward Shin, his voice flat despite his frustration.  He moves to collect Coco and allows the young halfling to embrace him, even offering a few pats on the back in way of comfort.  He turns to Gore.  "If you will wait a moment.  Just enough to plan the next move."


    "They get farther away with every minute," Gore shouts.


    "Was it Gerald''s men?" Shin asks again.


    Gore''s glowing eyes pulse several times before he answers.  "I cannot say for sure, but I would think that they were.  I didn''t see exactly, until after the explosion.  But there were four that took Andry.  She wasn''t moving.  They carried her off."


    "Then we know where they are taking her.  Tinker said Gerald''s camp was in the southwest part of the Whisper Woods," Shin says.  "That''s why he forbid Coco for wandering south."


    "That changes nothing.  She might be hurt.  I''m leaving.  Now," Gore intones, his voice adamant.


    Cricket sighs.  It wasn''t a good idea to attack a stronghold without a solid plan, but then again, his code of honor would certainly not allow him to stand by and let Gore attempt to fight these bandits alone.  Andry had offered her home and food out of shear kindness.  Such graciousness toward a stranger must be repaid.


    "I will go with you."


    Gore grunted in some approximation of thanks.


    "Let''s go then.  I''m ready," Shin said with obvious excitement.


    "You should stay with the little one," Gore barked.


    "Not a chance."  Shin looks over to Cricket.  "I won''t miss this chance to see a hero of the old empire in action.  No sir.  Besides, what if they come back.  They took Andry, but in the past they always seemed pretty interested in Coco."


    Gore shook his head, obviously not keen on arguing.  He grabbed a large length of wood from the rubble and headed out the door.  Cricket follows with Shin at his heels, patting Coco on the back in an effort at consoling the poor halfling, but doing an odd job of it with his muzzle stretched in an excited grin.


    Even had they not known the general location of Gerald the Brown''s camp, they would not have had a difficult time in finding the kidnappers.  The bandits had made no attempt at covering their tracks, leaving a trail of broken limbs, foot prints in soft earth, and occasionally blood.  Not all of the four who had survived the blast had made it out unscathed.


    With the sun high above the canopy and near after ten hard, fast miles of marching, Cricket looks over the edge of a small encampment that has the appearance of a semi permanent settlement.  At the far southern edge is a large circular tent, its edges covered by overgrowth from the grasses and ferns attempts to reclaim the clearing.  Five smaller tents spread out in a circle around a cookfire and at the northern edge of the camp is a horse pen with four mares in various stages of health and age.


    Creeping further to the edge of the wood line, Cricket makes out five individuals who seem to be having some sort of discussion with a sixth who stands at the edge of the large tent.  At his feet is the lifeless figure of Andry.  As Cricket turns to discuss what he sees with Gore, the Warforged and Coco both rush from the wood line.  Cricket manages to grab Coco and pull him back to cover, shooting Shin a look which the kobold seems to instantly understand.


    "Stay with me Coco," Shin says, taking Coco by the arm.  "They''ll save her."


    With not much choice in the matter, Cricket takes a firm grip on his spear and rushes after Gore.


    Having lost any hope of surprise, the horses starting at their approach only add to the alarm, Cricket catches up with Gore and does his best to slow his steadfast gait.  The size difference being too great, Cricket does nothing more than walk with comical speed beside him.  The bandits'' attention turns from their argument to the approaching figures.


    "What is this now?" calls the voice nearest the large tent.  He chuckles as the other five bandits spread out in a wide half circle facing Cricket and Gore.  Dressed entirely in brown from his boots to his wide rimmed hat, the short squat human steps over to the fire and begins warming his hands, appearing completely undisturbed by the furious Warforged''s approach.


    "Come to claim your mommy," he mocks.  This, Cricket correctly guesses, must be Gerald the Brown.


    "If she is harmed, you will all die slow," Gore seethes, his eyes flaring.


    "She''s fine, ''cept maybe from a bit of charring, but that''s your master''s fault now then, ain''t it.  Heard he took out two of my men and half his crappy old shack with a wave of his hand he did.  Did his ticker give out, or did he do himself in as well?"


    "You son of a¡ª" Gore began.


    Cricket stepped forward, interrupting him.  "I am Cricket Stonespur, a monk of the Hundred Stones, emissary of the High Muckmuck Gargis the Wise and servant of my people.  You have given a great and terrible grievance to good and honorable people who have sheltered me, fed me, and given me aid.   I have no wish to add to the violence that has been committed, but you will give Mistress Andry back to us and you must make amends to these people."


    A bellow of laughter erupts from Gerald.  Cricket does his best to calm the anger rising at this barbarian''s indignance.  Suddenly, the laughter stops as Gerald''s attention is drawn beyond Gore and Cricket.  The goblin doesn''t even have to turn to know what has happen.


    "Andry, Andry," Coco''s voice calls.


    Gore turns and catches the halfling before he can rush into the waiting arms of Gerald and his men.  Shin appears, panting, shaking his head in a wordless apology.  To be fair, the halfling, small as he is to Gore and the bandits, is considerably larger than Shin.


    "Oh my," Gerald calls.  He turns to he men, gesturing to Coco, then to Andry.  The men''s expressions turn sheepish.  "I''ll tell you what, my little grasshopper.  Straight trade.  I''ll give you back the little homemaker here, and she is valuable don''t you be fooled, for the simpleton.  Even swap."


    Coco is crying now, struggling against Gore''s embrace in an attempt to get to Andry.  Cricket steadies his breath.  He should have known better than to hope for honor among the uncultured hoards of this land.  They know nothing of what it means to be civilized.


    "You have insulted me with your vulgar proposal.  But more, you have insulted honor of the Hundred Stones.  You will receive no more reprieve."  Cricket turns to Coco.  "We will get your Andry back.  But you must promise to stay back.  You must promise."You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    "But, but,"


    "No.  You must or we can''t save her."


    Coco nods and stops struggling.  To Cricket''s relief he begins walking back toward the horses.


    Setting his feet and sweeping his spear behind him, Cricket turns to face the bandits.


    Unfortunately, the bandits appear to be used to working together.  They converge on the larger, presumably more dangerous target, rushing Gore with short swords drawn¡ªonly a single bandit holding back, drawing the string back on a crossbow.  Darting forward, Cricket attempts to close the distance before the bandit can ready his weapon and get off a shot.


    Gore takes a massive swing with the length of tinder and two of the bandits fall, knocked off their feet by the heavy blow.  The swing leaves Gore''s side exposed, however, and one of the bandits manages to slash at his ribs.  His armor holds, and he steps back to regain his reach advantage.


    Cricket reaches the bowman just as the bandit levels his weapon.  The goblin doesn''t have time to strike the bandit before he pulls the trigger, instead sweeping his spear in an upward arch, hitting the crossbow just as the bolt flies.  The missile goes high and wide of its mark, sailing harmlessly into the woods.  A look of horror passes over the bowman''s face.  With his bolt fired and Cricket upon him, he is defeated before the fight begins.  With a sweep of his spear, Cricket takes out the man''s legs.  Twisting at the waste, Cricket lets the arch of his spear come over his head.  He then brings it down upon the prostate bandit, cracking open his skull.  Cricket turns back toward Gore.


    The Warforged is handling himself well, outnumbered as he is.  The bandits he struck with his first blow have regained their feet and now all four face him with more caution in their attacks.  He takes a second slash against his armored side and deflects another with his modified club.  The club is heavy though, and the bandits are pressing their advantage.


    With swift moments honed at the Sanctum of the Sun, where from the age of one he studied to join the Hundred Stones, Cricket bounds forward, throwing his spear ahead of him.  It strikes a bandit in the center of his back, the man squealing in pain just as Cricket leaps upon him.  Pulling his spear free, Cricket swings the blade into the face of another of his enemies, the blood spraying as the bandit falls to his knees.


    The addition of the this new, whirling, leaping enemy distracts the remaining two bandits for a beat, but it is enough.  The massive club slams down upon one of their heads, driving the man to the ground.  The last turns to flee but Gore seizes him by his jerkin, lifting him off his feet, before slamming him again and again into the earth, crying out in a fit of rage.


    "It is done, Master Gore.  He has passed from the mortal plane," Cricket says, laying a hand on small of the Warforged''s back.


    Gore holds the lifeless body to his own face for a moment, the head flopping back, before letting it go to thump to the earth.  Both turn to face the lone figure of Gerald standing with a mild look of shock by his tent, his hands at his side, palms facing out.


    "I''m impressed.  Really."


    "Your opinion is of no value to me, barbarian," Cricket responds, moving forward in step with Gore.


    "I can understand that.  But listen.  You don''t know what you''ve stumbled into.  Or how much money is on the table.  There is an opportunity here.  No reason I can''t share, given the circumstances."


    Cricket shook his head.  "If you surrender, I will not kill an unarmed man.  But you will have to pay for what you have done."


    "You may have some skill, but I am not my men.  This will not be such an easy¡ª"


    A sharp twang pierces the air and if by some magic trick, the end of a feathered bolt appears in Gerald''s neck.  The bandit leader clutches at his throat, his eyes wide and panicked.  Both Gore and Cricket turn in unison to see Shin, lowering a small crossbow.


    Shin shrugs.  "I don''t think he was going to surrender."


    As Gerald falls, Coco rushes forward to Andry''s side.  Cricket follows.  He watches as the halfling closes his eyes and the mark on his cheek begins to glow.  There is a moment, a breath, and then Andry opens her eyes and looks up at the Coco, tears running down both of their faces.


    Shin disappears into the large circular tent, while Gore moves to stand protectively over Andry and Coco.  Observing the aftermath of what is only his second day on this cursed continent, Cricket can''t help but feel what little hope he had of diplomacy faltering.  It was true that he had met decent souls in Tinker, Andry, Gore, Coco, and Shin, but what a barbaric, twisted world they survived in¡ªfor what else could such an uncivilized world be, but survived.


    Cricket was still meditating on these thoughts when Shin emerged from the tent.


    "Look, look at this," the little Kobold called.  In his hands was a scroll.  He handed it to Cricket.  "I also found a bit of gold, but it''s yours of course.  You earned it.  You truly are one of the great champions of the Dhakaani Empire.  You have my word, Cricket Stonespur, your deeds will be known through out the kingdoms of Khorvaire.  Beyond even."


    Cricket did his best to ignore the kobold.  He read the scroll.


    1,000 gold for a live outcast of House Jorasco.  Must bear the mark.


    Terheald


    "What is this mark?" Cricket asks Shin, pointing to the seal embossed on the paper.


    "That''s the mark of House Vadalis.  It''s strange right?"


    "I wouldn''t know.  You pay for slaves in this cursed land?"


    Shin tilts his head.  "There are no slaves in the five nations.  Certainly not in a marked house.  Not like that."


    "What does this mean then?"


    "I don''t know.  Truly," Shin responds.


    Cricket sighs.  "Well, if we head back now we can reach the cottage by nightfall.  There are more tents and horses than would be needed for five men.  Might be more that come back.  We should get Coco and Mistress Andry somewhere safe."


    Gore grunts and goes to gather the two halflings.  They gather some of the supplies, including one of the horses to carry Andry who, although she insists she''s fine, is still quite shaken up.


    ¡­


    The trip back to the cottage is without incident and they arrive just before dark.  The air has grown chilly, but there is enough of the cottage remaining to provide shelter for the night.  All in the party agree that it is folly to attempt to travel at night through the wood.


    Hoping to find some clues as to what this Terheald might want with Coco, or at least members of House Jorasco if they note did not mean Coco specifically, Shin searches Tinker''s laboratory in the cellar while Cricket and Gore search the house to make sure everything is as secure as it can be for the evening.


    The laboratory contains an assortment of strange trinkets, artificer pets, boxes, and curiosities in various stages of development.  Tinker clearly lived up to his name and seemed to enjoy puzzles.  There are two large chests, one open and empty, one ornate with four key holes.  Three of the key holes has an embossed animal beside it, the forth, a debossed outline in the shape of a bat. Beside the ornate chest, lies the mangled body of a bandit alongside a broken mechanical bat covered in the bandit''s blood.


    "Master Cricket," Shin yells.  "Come quick."


    Shin hears the heavy footsteps of Gore as he and Cricket rush down the stairs.  When they both appear in the doorway to the laboratory, Shin points to the chest and then the body.


    "What do you think he was looking for?"


    "Coin no doubt," Gore scoffs.


    "In the middle of a kidnapping."  Shin scratches his head.  "Seems odd to me, if they were getting 1,000 gold, to risk searching the cellar for treasure.  Tinker may have been an old man, but they had to know he was dangerous."


    Cricket kneels beside the dead bandit, looking over the ground.  Clutched in the bandit''s hand is a key, ornately forged in a style quite similar to the decorations on the chest.  He hands it to Shin before running his hand over the debossed bat on the chest.


    "Tinker loved puzzles," Gore says, with a note of what might be sadness in his deep, rumbling voice.


    Shin looks over the key.  It is beautiful.  Gold and silver intertwined at the bow and stem, ending in a bit with four teeth.


    "Four key holes," Shin thinks aloud as his eyes wonder around the room.  His gaze alights on Tinker''s desk.  Three more keys are sitting in a dish.


    The decoration is the same on each of the keys, but each of their bits ends in a different number of teeth.  Three, six, five, and the one in his hand, four.  He picks up the keys and moves to the chest.  Next to one key hole is the figure of a dragon, another a wolf, a third a tiger, and the last, the debossed shape of a bat.  He looks to the ground where the mechanical bat lies broken and bloody.  He runs his thumb along the teeth of each of the keys as a smile crosses his muzzle.


    "Wait," Cricket calls, as Shin moves to insert one of the keys.  "This chest is clearly trapped.  And it is not ours to tamper with."


    "I''ve figured it out," Shin says proudly.  "But if you don''t think I should."


    "We need to know as much as we can," Gore interrupts.  "I need to keep Coco save.  It is what Tinker would have wanted."


    Cricket nods and Shin continues.  He places the key with six teeth in the lock next to the dragon.  Taking a deep breath, he turns the key.  The lock clicks and a series of whirls and pops emits from beneath the lid of the chest.  After a moment, the sounds cease.  Shin, Cricket, and Gore brace themselves, but nothing else happens.  Shin continues.  He places the key with three teeth in the hole next to the missing bat.  Four teeth next to the wolf.  Finally five next to the tiger.  With each turn there is a click followed by whirling and popping.  With the turn of the last key the chest swings open.


    Inside the chest is a pristine set of artificer tools, degrees from Arcanix as well as a mark of tenure.  There is a leather-bound notebook containing what looks to be messy handwritten notes and equations in a language no one in the party is able to recognize or understand.  On the last page are sketches of Coco¡¯s tattoo as well as the mark of House Vadalis.


    Shin reaches in a pulls out a small box.  It is six by two inches with a slot on the top.  It has no hinges, key holes, or latches that are visible with the exception of a small hook upon which a coin purse is tethered.  Inside the purse are 45 strange, small gold coins.  On the bottom of the box, the following riddle is engraved.


    45 five coins, 3X3


    To open the latch and then you¡¯ll see.


    Fifteen per column, fifteen per row;


    Diagonally, the same is so.


    A plea of warning to carefully count;


    No two places may hold the same amount.


    What coins in the center be fed through the door;


    Exact change open or trouble galore.


    ( Taken from Wizards Of The Coast, Inc. (2020). Tasha¡¯s cauldron of everything. Wizards Of The Coast Llc.)


    "Enough with puzzles and snooping.  We need rest.  There is no telling what retributions the bandits might enact, if any remain," Cricket announces.


    Neither Shin nor Gore offer argument.  Shin places the items in his satchel and follows the others back up the stars.


    When they emerge, they see Andry sat by the fire; Coco sits on the floor in front of her.  She is running her fingers through his hair in a maternal gesture, trying her best to keep him calm.  She takes note of Cricket, Gore, and Tinker.


    "I''m headed back to my family in Gatherhold.  I''ve had enough of Aundair, Breland, Karrnath.  I''m going home.  And that is what Coco needs as well," Andry says softly.


    "You mean to take him with you to Gatherhold?" Gore asks.


    Andry shakes her head.  "No.  He needs to go to his home.  To be with his people.  His house.  That is the only place he will be safe.  Vedykar is on the way to Gatherhold, but I don''t think I can make it with him on my own.  We don''t have enough coin for rail, certainly not for an airship.  The roads are dangerous, at least until we get into Karrnath and even then I''m not sure.  Will you help me?"


    Gore shakes his head.  "You need not ask me.  I will protect you both with my life."


    "I know," Andry says, giving the Warforged a warm smile.  "But I''m not sure you will be enough.  Not if someone is willing to pay so much to find him."


    Cricket lets out a deep, steadying breath.  "I will accompany you.  This Karrnath was my original destination anyway, but more, you have shown me kindness and given freely of your home in my need."


    "Thank you."


    Cricket nods.


    "Me too.  Of course," Shin says.  He tries to keep the smile from his face.  This is the beginning of a great quest after all, a moment for serious reflection.  For gravitas.  But he can''t help it.  He has found his hero and he plans not to let this goblin out of his sight.