Chapter 2: The path to enlightenment is blood

Three days later, Lavender, Daniel, Murt and Stearvall are at a Samdu herder's stall. Between the four of them they have just enough gold (30 gp) to buy an old Samdu and some Samdu saddle bags. A crusty old obese goblin is sitting on a stool, his large belly uncovered, small insects are crawling in and out of his belly button. He smells of Samdu. "Bitty here will do ya fine. She lost some o' her teef but she can walk. And for the little scrap of gold yer offerin' this is the best yer gonna git."

As Lavender looks Bitty up and down he thinks back over the past few days and the events that brought his life here.

After Ro Ar's arrival through the rupture, Lavender sits on the steps to her temple and pops the cork on the wine he swiped from the parakeet composer. Taking a long swig, he looks around for anyone with half a brain in the crowd. Not these simple-minded heathens bowing and scraping to a god that doesn't recognize a self-starter like me. No, I need to associate with people more of my own ilk. Like that gypsy who wasn't afraid to take on emerald demons to avenge his goblin friend. And that caravan guard who charmed the snake woman, kind of saved my hide there. Even the dirty thug girl. She's definitely got the moxie to be a survivor. Finding the faces he was searching for, Lavender waves them over to share in his wine and his desire to get out of Anthat and away from these daft ruptures.

Over the next three days Lavender seeks out the only fence in Anthat willing to deal with independent thieves like himself. He'd have to work his way up before applying to a proper guild, but Honest Mauve was a decent source of information and a way to get rid of hot merchandise. In exchange for the pilfered golden goblet he was able to secure the addresses of several of the less-destitute morons who had devoted themselves to Ro Ar's "bountiousness". Those jobs weren't the cleanest ever pulled, Lavender was still getting his feet wet as a proper thief and he may have compromised his anonymity, but who was he to care? He was about to hit the open road! The loot from those few scores was enough to outfit him with the gear he needed with enough left over to chip in for a particularly lame-looking samdu...

Shaking out of his reverie, Lavender replies to the goblin herder. "Well, she certainly is... ah..." He searches for the right word for a few seconds before looking to the rest of the group and shrugging. "...alive? I'm sure she'll do just fine for our needs. Thank you Mr. Smelly Goblin."

After they pay the man and begin walking away, Lavender addresses the group. "Alright, now don't forget our deal boys & girls. We go nab this holy relic Stearvall's crow keeps yapping about, and the rest of the treasure we split 50-50-50-50." He points to Daniel, Stearvall, Murt, and himself in turn. "And this BETTER pay off or we'll have words..." He lets the silence turn uncomfortable before laughing and slapping Stearvall on the back. "Haaaah! Just screwin' with ya, Stearvy. But seriously, I'm expecting piles of gold and jewels to get my foot in the door with one of the more notable guilds in the area so don't let me down! Let's blow this kooky town with its ruptures and its self-righteous pig goddess and head towards... uhh... where exactly are we goin' again?"

Daniel spends the next few days finishing up his job with his employer and getting his things in order to leave. Once per day, just before dusk, he wanders over to the entrance of the snake-lady's secret place to see if she's outside, but he doesn't see her again.

The day before they're set to leave, Daniel spends the day polishing his new armor and weapon and purchasing a shield with the last of his pay to finish his ensemble.

"She's definitely... good enough," Daniel says with a smile, then turns to Lavendar and nods, "An even split is fine with me."

Stearvall spends the days seeing to the many dead of the city and talking to a crow perched on his shoulder that only he sees. He knows what he must do and that he can not complete his task on his own, but Malotoch's has provided as always, the talk of a trove a few days has sparked the avarice of the rogue Lavender, and Lavender has always had a way with people.

"You are welcome to split anything that you find amongst your self so long as it is not holy to Malotoch, I require very little" For all the bounty of that day Stearvall is still dressed in stained clothing and only carried the dagger he carried on that fateful day 'It was enough to slay Ro Ar's daemons' I could probably use some protection.

Lavender's hand quickly shoots into the air. "I call dibs on Stearvalls' share!" He looks around to see if the rest of the group members are buying into his exclamation.

The ragtag group of "adventurers" heads out of the stalls. As Stearvall is walking down the street he sees a crow picking at a dead rat in the gutter. It turns its head to Stearvall and says "Head toward the setting sun for three days. There you will find the Shrine of the Blood Father. Make a sacrifice and receive thy boon!" It then caws loudly and flies off.

The walk out of the city is uneventful. It does feel strange when you leave the city gates and the large tower of Praxima Cristara starts to fade into the distance. You see many Samdu herders along the way grazing their Samdu's on the limestone outside of the walls. The familiar grinding sound of teeth on stone is soothing. Your own Samdu, Bitty, picks up a stone or two and casually grinds away as she slowly, slowly walks.

Nearing sunset you start to get far from the city. It is the Month of the Cricket, the leaves are just turning red. The air is cool but not yet cold. You are just reaching a small village, a small post written in Gobbledygook shows this is a goblin village. There is a small tavern with a name you can't read (because it is in Gobbledygook) to your right. You feel you could look for a room there or press on and make camp outside of town. Daniel, the former caravan guard turned warrior, knows of this place but for some reason he can't remember the real name, he does remember caravan guards nicknamed it Spookytown. They never really liked to stay here cause of all the Gobbledygobliness.

"Not a big fan of this place," Daniel says to his companions, "I think we should keep going for now and stop a fair distance from town. I'd rather sleep outside than here."

THE MURT MONTAGE

Word has spread that the teenage thug had become a mysterious champion of the Snake Tower, having emerged from the curious depths with a burning brand of an eye and a wicked magic sword. There is a sense of awe and respect for her capability, despite her rough-around-the-edges personality; the lowlifes of the streets have come to wonder if there might be some potential to this ruthless bully who once knocked over their younger siblings for a laugh.

Having murdered a Dwarf over a Snake's promise for a sword, Murt took it upon herself to soak up the lifestyle of the rapidly famous by thoroughly beating the living hell out of anyone who dared to ask her what had happened. Over the next three days she terrorized the streets with an uncharacteristic rage and a massive bender from anyone too scared to turn down her demand that they buy her a round. Her coping skills persevered - one early noon she awoke on the cobbled streets reeking of piss, and she thought to better herself.

Having seen that some other "dumb-butt idiot guys" who did not perish in the "crazy stupid ass thing that happened", Murt decided to tag along with the team. She bought (coerced) a leather vest off of some of the local enforcers who run the dice games, and met the gang at a smelly stable.

---

Murt has been seethingly quiet throughout the journey, glowering at her feet and spitting angrily at the road."I hate dat fuggin bird." She may have been heard muttering, as she reflected on the prophetic crow.

When faced with the dilemma of the Goblin town, she offers Daniel her council. "Wha, you scared o' a couple 'o goobers? I ain't sleepin' in the fuggin' rain jus cuz you stoopid."

As you are deciding what to do, leave or stay, an old wrinkly grey skinned goblin pushes a cart by you. He gives you a determined scowl. As he pushes past you hear him mumbling and cursing to himself. mumble...what do I care if they get themselves killed...mumble mumble... grimalkin... mumble...

"Ah, bullocks Daniel!" Lavender exclaims with a punch to the shoulder. "Who knows when the next time we might get to sleep in a bed is? We have a few coppers left, I say let's enjoy it while we can! Besides, we have nothing to fear with the invincible Murt to watch over us, right Murty?"

Lavender catches a bit of the grumbling goblin passing by and takes a few long steps to catch up, putting on his flowery persona. "Excuse me, venerable one! I couldn't help but overhear your concern regarding our good health. We are a group of simple travelers heading out of Anthat after the ruptures threw everything into chaos, I'm sure you have heard by now? Anyway, we were looking to stay the night here before heading back out on the road in the morn. What can you tell us about this fine looking establishment? I believe you called it the Grimalk Inn, correct?" As he is speaking, Lavender will look the goblin up & down and glance into his cart to see if he has any valuables...

The old goblin stops pushing his cart for a second then keeps moving. not looking anyone in the eye he continues to mumble mumble...who does this guy think he is?...mumble... thinks grimalkin is the name of the inn. idiot! mumble... grimalkin eat goblins and humans and halflings that wander into the woods... mumble...mumble He seems to be quite poor. His cart is full of turnips.

Daniel sighs, "I just hate this place. Dark, dreary, and depressing," he says to Murt, "But I'll stick with you guys if you wanna stay here."

To the goblin, "You said this... Grimalkin? Eats people?"

Once Lavender determines there is nothing interesting about (or on) the old goblin his facade immediately fades away, the smile melting into a sneer and he can barely mutter a "Very well. Have... good day..." before letting Daniel take over the conversation and slinking back to Stearvall and Murt.

"Hell's bells! This stinking town is full of nothing but broke blokes. What d'you fellas think? Stay in town in a goblin bed or risk the forest and this 'Grimalkin' who might very well eat us?"

I vote we stay here, goblins are good folk He looks to the old goblin, "We require a room big enough for the four of us, something free of Vermin is possible"

he leans in close to Lavender, "Do you think we can trust Murt to not kill all of them?"

The old goblin ignores both Daniel and Stearvall and just pushes his cart down the street mumbling and muttering to himself.

You head into the unnamed tavern. The ceiling is low. It doesn't seem like tall folks like most of you don't come here often. There is a dusty farmer smell to the place. The place is quite packed. About 20 goblins sitting around low tables and low chairs. A single man sized table sits in the corner. A few dirty dishes and a dirty dish towel sit on it. It seems to not get much other use. But the most remarkable part of the whole thing is the looks you get when you enter. Mostly just blank stares. A few scowls and one largish goblin with a woodsman's axe seems to be sizing you all up.

Behind the bar is a red headed halfling. She is buxom but a bit plain looking otherwise. She looks at you all and smiles a big smile. In a funny farmer accent she calls out to you all. "Well Radhu's hairy testicles look what the cat dragged in?!" She looks over to a small goblin with a garishly painted hurly burly music box and says "Why Wobbletoof, play us some music, we got ourselves a bunch o' big people!" Wobbletoof wakes up from his drunk stupor and starts cranking on the music box. A tinny song starts to play.

The red head moves over to the table for big people and clears it off. Without asking she bring 4 large cups of mead. "Here ya go. I'll bring you a hot stew too if you have the coin for it."

Lavender notices that in the opposite corner three wealthier looking goblins are playing cards. Wobbletoof saunters over to Murt, gets the stink eye, and then moves over to Daniel and Stearvall. He pauses his cranking for a moment to shake a tin cup with a single coin in it. He smiles stupidly at the two.

As the group enters the building Lavender mutters to Stearvall under his breath, "I think we can trust Murt t'do exactly whatever she wants whenever she wants it... Long's these folk aren't acting too "stoopid" then hopefully her wrath won't need to be unleashed till we face a true threat."

Once inside, his eyes roam over the halfling bartender before locking onto the card game in the corner. Without taking his eyes off the three goblins he holds out his hand to the group and absently speaks, his voice picking up the cadence of more proper speech patterns. "Could one of you possibly spare a ten-piece? I do believe I can pay for our meals and lodging tonight but I seem to be a bit short presently."

Daniel nods, "Sure, I still have a little bit of coin left," he says with a nod to Lavender as he passes 20 copper pieces to the serving girl.

Murt stares at the Goblin shaking the cup at Daniel and Stearvall, a perplexed look as if she had discovered a particularly disgusting caterpillar crushed under her boot.

"Gimme stew." She grunts, and puts off payment as long as humanly possible.