The tales of Leo Wayfarer and Damu the Kenku Assassin,as told by Leo to his Nephew Leto Collins (# 7 of 33)- Into the Jurka.
That bird and I saw a lot of weird shit in our days, some of it still keeps me up at night, most of all our very last job together, but some things we ran into weren't weird in a scary way, just in way that defies any sense. I dunno...but the world and it's truth is far more complicated then what we're taught,and you have to separate the things that really are true from the bullshit the Church and the Military feeds the public to hold our culture together. Don't get me wrong, I still love Regentum, even after all these years. I believe in a God, but not the church or the Emperor. What's important to me about Regentum is that it's perhaps the only place in the world where a common, regular person can receive the benefits of their own hard work. Everywhere I've ever been I've only seen masters and servants. The Dwarves are good to one another, perhaps even better then we in Regentum are. But in Rolheim the Dwarves have a very set and rigid way of life. You're stuck in the position you're born into, but no Dwarf suffers or is destitute. Here in Regentum if you're born poor you can do something about it. Other Human nations that aren't our Colonies, forget it. That's why so many foreigners become Pirates. It's better to be a Pirate then the serf of some Sultan in Lu' Hadej, toil the years by on a Brenendale fishing ship, live under constant war in the mess of Alson, or slave away under some Monk in Nijiro.
After I got out of the Army like a lot of guys I was pretty jaded with all the shit talking about conquering the world for light and law and all that sort of talk. Our leaders fight for money and power and cull troops from the ranks of our working poor after getting them hyped up on religion. I mean look, they take these kids, they start at age fifteen, and all these boys are either from farming villages, or some industrial slum. You take a kid like that who hasn't got much of a future and you tell him that he'll be trained to fight for holy order, and that he will be special, that he will individually play a vital role in shaping the future of the empire and he buys it. Like me and yours Pops. We knew it was either the army, the docks, the factories or jail. It's ugly that it takes a large degree of smoke and mirrors to hold Regentum together, but its better then everywhere else out there.
Anyhow after Damu and I took out that Goblin leader Ertu we were in good standing with the Military as skilled mercenaries who were good at eliminating specific targets that were loose ends they needed cleaned up. It took those motherfuckers less then a month before I got a knock at the door from a Army courier with a new bounty contract in one hand, and a sack of gold in the other. I hadn't even yet spent all my money from before.
I was told that the Military needed a new way to send food supplies to all the troops the world over because the cost of doing so was getting too high due to the sheer number of troops we now how have the world over. Traditionally the food either came from local sources, or was shipped in by merchants with government contracts. The Military hired Wizard-Engineers to design a new system of providing troops with enough food in a cheaper way. So they applied the idea of the factory to the slaughter house. Along the road way between Salsburg and Fieldsview a big warehouse was built in which cattle was slaughtered in mass by huge killing machines and the meat cured, salted and prepped for shipping.
Some Druid freaked out about this place and attacked it. Around this time the Army was routing out a large strike force of the Derago Tribe of Hobgoblins. The Deragos' got their asses handed to them and broke up into a bunch of small rag-tag units. The Druid trashed the place pretty good, and the report in my contract didn't mention as to what happened to the Druid or who he was. Troops, Engineers, Craftsman and supply laden Merchants were quickly sent in to get the Meat Factory up and running. All of these sitting ducks alone along the highway caught the eye of a squad of Derago Hobgoblins who in turn decided to take their own stab at the meat factory. We were asked to find the leader of the Squad, a Hobgoblin named Jahghu Khazul and kill him. The Army in the area was still busy chasing down the bulk of the Derago forces, and had them pinned way up north almost to Rolhiem.
This time around we bought our own wagon and horse rather then catching a ride with a caravan. A nice light brown horse I never got the chance to name or get attached to. After the mission I ended up loosing our horse in a dice game on the way back to Scardale to this skinny toothless drunk in a bar in Salsburg. Damu was pissed off about it, and he laughed at me the whole way home.
Most of the trip there was easy, if even a little boring. We had to go this round about way to get there as there was no highway that went directly there and I didn't want to chance getting shook down with Damu in tow. But even playing by the book we got caught up in some shit. Between Nolos and Salsburg we got stopped by a Polly squad. One of them saw us in Nolos when we stopped for supplies and bitched to the others about a Kenku moving around the interior. Even though the eastern end of Regentum is thought of as being more religiously tolerant then out west, its just that out west they think of themselves as superior given that they eastern region was conquered and absorbed into the Empire. Really everyone in the Empire outside of the big coastal cities clings very firmly to our Religion and its accompanying prejudices. I caught a lot of shit over the years for having a Kenku for a friend.
5 of these pricks rode up on us, battle standards held all high, pole arms drawn, you know the whole fucking works. Big fucking fags in their shinny armor demanding to know what me and the Bird were up to. I held out the contract with the army guys in Scardale and was like, "Were here to do your dirty work". Some big prissy bitch, Sir Halton kept scrutinizing me, being like, "How can I keep the company of a Heathen animal?", and how legal or otherwise "To bring such a foul creature into the interior was an affront to the holy sanctity of our beloved empire". Typical Paladin fag shit. Fuck them. The mercenary rabble were here to wipe their ass because they were too important to do it themselves. Damu maybe a local legend here in Scardale, but out in the country or in the eyes of the Church he was scum.
When we got to the Meat factory there was a bunch of workers busting their asses to fix it, a few merchants and rich Gnomes, some solders, and some hired swords keeping an eye on the place. The ruined factory buildings had maze of scaffolding towering up their crumbling walls, and about the area around them was a decent sized encampment. Various tents dotted the place, though one could clearly tell the difference between tents belonging to the workers, the merchants, the troops and the mercenaries. Worker tents were drab though orderly. The tents of the business men were lined with velvet and furs. The Army tents had various standards embroidered to them, and the mercenary tents were both drab and disorderly. Also they were off to the side of everyone else. I saw a big, ugly mother fucker around the Merc tents, both too big and too ugly to be completely human, but not a Half-Orc. I saw he wore the spiked gauntlets common to Gladiators and figured he must of been a half-breed slave who fought his away from to freedom from the fighting pits. Still fighting on behalf of the gold of the rich, but at least the deal was more in his favor. I hope anyway. One of the other mercs there was this guy Ramalti, a big guy with a shaved head and thick curled mustache. I knew him from the army. Once we fought Pirates together off the coast of Fazas. After checking in with the Captain of the place, we set up camp with Ramalti.
Ramalti had a huge pile of furs arranged under a high posted canopy and laid around a fire with a few extra skinned rabbits cooking. We caught up on things for a hour or so, though I could tell he didn't like that I had Damu with me, though he didn't say anything.Ramalti told me his last gig was doing a hit for people who were part of Snake-Worshiping cult and that he was glad to be away from them. Said that they used pit fighting for a front and had a lot of weird orgies. Didn't seem too bad to me but he warned me to stay away if they ever approached us.
Damu was fidgety, which was unnerving given how calm how usually was, something was up. The small talk between Ramalti and I was broken when Damu asked flatly, "Tell us about the Hobgoblins around here, we are here kill to Jahghu Kazul". It was an awkward moment. Ramalti gave Damu a stern look and me a half stern half worried look and was like, "Yea Kazul, yea he's around these ways, or should be. Last we knew anyway. Look let me tell you guys a few things about this job. The moneyed people here have their head up their ass and all they want to know is when this place will up and running again. Don't listen to them. The military guys are here to watch them. They're only gonna tell you half of what you need to know. Something weird is going on out in the fields. Animals have been acting strange. On patrols at night I've seen bolts of color and light off in the distance, and one night while following what was the tracks of two small feet, they abruptly shifted into the paw prints of a 4 legged creature."
I looked over at Ramalti and he handed me a wine skin, "Also have you two heard of an area called the Jurka?", he asked. "No", Damu replied. Damu didn't know much beyond city life, or even beyond life in Scardale. He was always a tad out of his element on missions like this. Though to be honest I never heard of it either. It is a creepy place we found. "The Jurka", Ramalti said, "is an ugly, sunken scar of land sunken and wide, but also consisting of many hills, little rivers, creeks and the occasional murky swamp lake. It is a lonely and windy stretch of land of irregular width, but hundreds of miles in length. Jurka is Goblin for 'the crack'. Most Goblins and Hobgoblins avoid the place, though I've been told that some powerful Hobgoblin Warlords are buried there.The Gobos say the place is cursed as its not naturally occurring. Something deep below the ground they claim cracked the land open centuries ago. It's not on any known maps, nor mentioned in any journals. For a distinct land mass so big that's very strange. Someone must not want it to be known."
Damu laughed, "I don't care about any cracks or secrets any Hairies keep from each other. We're here for Jahghu Kazul, that's all that matters."
Right before dawn we were woken up to screams and commotions. The first thing I saw upon waking were 4 foxes a few feet away from me. I laughed at first, but when I stood up I realized the place was over run with foxes. Foxes and geese. They were every where, howling and running amok. It would have been funny if it weren't so out of place and deliberate seeming. No one knew what to do and it I think because of that it was really freaking a lot of them out.
Quickly then I saw a fox stare it me. It had a bloody muzzle and in its mouth was a blood-stained pointed Gnome hat. I pointed over to Damu and he quickly drew an arrow and shot the fox. As I ran towards the fox its shape contorted and elongated. By the time my sword was swinging directly at it the fox it had become a tall skinny guy with long matted hair down past his ass, a long matted beard, and just a loin cloth on. His eyes seemed distant yet driven by some equally remote purpose. The Wild Man rolled out of the way. I saw that his hands were glowing and all of a sudden vines grew quickly up from the ground, like water being poured from a bottle, that were wrapping up around my legs. He smiled without humor at this and pulled the arrow Damu Shot him with out of his shoulder. Blood squirted out and a chunk of meat flopped over from the wound.
What looked like a large, stocky Goblin but still not a Hobgoblin walked up to the Wild Man just as he was picking up the bloody Gnome hat. The Wild Man looked over at the strange Goblin and spoke, "This will do. The Dwarves and the Gnomes are just as bad as these Regentum people. The Gnomes maybe even more so. They hide behind their money and get Humans to do their dirty work." The Goblin-thing didn't seemed to care too much, but they never had the chance to debate the matter. Ramalti and Damu charged the two. Ramalti carried a large spiked mace that he swung down towards the head of the Goblin. Catching the creatures cap, but not its head, the Goblin leaped up in the air far higher then a Goblin should be able to leap, and landed on top of Ramalti biting him in the neck. The vines wrapped tighter around my legs and I was worried that my legs would shatter under the strain. Damu threw his dagger straight into the gut of the Wild Man with one hand, and slashed across his face with his sword with the other. The Wild Man fell back, holding his guts into his stomach. The slash across his face caused his nose to dangle and his cheek to flop open. I think some teeth were missing or dangling by tiny threads of mouth meat in his beard. The ground around us burst into flame. Damu leaped out of the way, and Ramalti was still struggling with the creature wrapped around his neck and head. Me, I stuck my legs in the fire and burned away the vines. It was painful, but not as painful as my legs being crushed.
Quickly I tried to stand, but I stumbled as I got up. The Wild Man rushed with his hands transformed into large green glowing claws. A claw jabbed towards my head, but I ducked under it, and swooped my sword upwards and into and out of his chest. The fire abruptly stopped. The Goblin creature jumped off of Ramalti and by the time it hit the ground it transformed into some strange mix of Goblin and Wolf. Later on Damu said such creatures were called Barghests. Whatever it was it took off running. Soon all the Foxes and Geese went away.
The Captain and his men surrounded the Wild Man. I was confused at first because they bound his body in shackles, as why exactly they would bound up a corpse, but my confusion quickly turned to anger as the poured a healing potion down the mother fuckers throat. I screamed out at them, "What the fuck are you doing? He's a Witch, leave him dead! I'm not killing him again unless I get paid extra." Which funny enough we did get paid twice for killing that guy. Turns out he was the crazed Druid who attacked the Meat-Factory in the first place. Gharuun the Druid, wanted across eastern Regentum for various acts of terrorism, spreading blasphemy, and other crimes against the Empire. Around the camp I heard that Gharuun was once the Son of a rich industrialist family out of Tardon. He was supposedly once Francis Applemoore, a scion of a blue-blood family who went insane around the time his family fell to controversy. If I recall right, I think actually the Applemoore's owned a factory outside of Tardon that accidentally poisoned a near-by river with mercury, killing hundreds of peasant-folk, and making many more sick.Butt-Boy Sir Halton and his squad of Knights showed up to interrogate Gharuun and bring him to Elaine for execution, but not until after they kissed Gnome ass. The Gnomes and the Human Merchants were grieving over the loss of the Gnome Harov Goldstein and his money (which the Barghest apparently got away with).
It was found out after a day of torture that Gharuun was working with Jahghu Kazul and his forces out of the Jurka because of mutual animosity towards Regentum. The whole "the enemy of my enemy" bit. Gharuun was bothered by industrialization and by it being this far into the interior of the country-side. Admittedly on that part Gharuun was perhaps right, I myself hate to admit that I agreed with a Druid, but while I grew up in the city surrounded by factories and industry, I've always valued the clean greenery of the country side when I've traveled through it.I could see how he ended up a Druid after coming from a family who's factory poisoned the land. I'd hate to our beautiful country side ruined just to make people like Harov Goldstein rich. Jahghu Kazul however could give two shits either way. Gharuun didn't want loot and worked for free. Gharuun was a zealot, violence for his religion was its own reward. Kazul was a raider and aspiring Warlord. He only valued money and brute force.
That night Damu and I rode into the Jurka.
The very southern most portion of the Jurka came to a tapered tip and sloped down at an easy descent. It really did look like a sunken crack in the earth, as if here the world split open and then was over grown over the ensuing years. A creek ran along the bottom of the valley. We decided for the time being not to go directly into the Jurka but to follow along its western edge, at least until dawn. By dawn we saw that the creek had grown considerably in size further up stream, and off the near distance was a waterfall with what looked like an old, abandoned ruined mill next to it.
Damu scouted out the ruin and it was clear. We camped out there for a few hours. Not even bothering to unravel my bed roll, I just laid on top of a concrete slab and rested my head on my bag. In my nap I had a strange dream about a grand mother living in the mill with her grand children and a giant frog that moved into the water fall that ate her kids. I woke up and didn't want to find out if that was true or not, so I shook Damu awake and we got going.
As dawn rose, the whole of the Jurka was blanketed in an early morning foggy-mist and lit in a pale glow. The place has a strange beauty, yet something is noticeably unsettling about it. Everything is a bit off, and nature with in it goes in unusual courses. During that morning ride along the Jurka Damu and I saw aquatic rabbits. I shit you not, we saw water-rabbits, long and skinny, with wide flat feet and light green fur. Maybe they couldn't breathe the water, but we saw rabbits hopping from land and into water, swimming frantically down stream, and back out again.
By late afternoon we caught sight of fresh tracks that looked like the hoof-prints of the giant boars that the Hobgoblins ride heading from the west and northbound into the Jurka directly. We left our horse and wagon there and headed in. As we did we stopped to consider tactics. We both had fought Hobgoblins but they had numbers on us. Plus we we're only after one of them. The Hobgoblin raiders of the northern plains I have a respect for. On their Boar-Mounts they are deadly. They have a unique style of Calvary tactics that is very different from how we, or the Elves, etc. would use typically fight on horse back. They fight almost like a pack of wild animals, and use hit and run tactics with ruthless efficiency. When I was in the army I fought with units charged with taking out Hobgoblins on a few occasions. While we always won, it was only because of superior numbers. For every raider we took they easily took 6 to 8 of our men. You have to use traps and guerrilla tactics on them, as a blow to blow fight always came with heavy losses.
So we decided that we would try to locate them, then set up what ever traps we could near by, and hopefully lure them in. I knew Damu carried all sorts of nastiness is in his bag. He always came equipped for a millions forms of murder. Though I learned a lot from him in those years. When I first met him I still fought like a soldier as I still thought like a soldier after years in the army. On our first two missions he taught me the difference between fighting and killing. He was a killer born and bred, I was a warrior who learned also to be a killer. I still had to do most of the blow to blow work when it was necessary. But he was right. We didn't fight for honor, or duty we did this work just for money, so it doesn't make sense to take a lot of risks when you're a mercenary.
Right before night fall we came upon a hilly area with-in the Jurka that rang out with a low, droning, moaning sound that seemed to wrap around the area with the wind. It all seemed very somber and morbid. The hills about the place each had various oblong obelisks on top. I stopped to check one out. It had markings on it that neither of us could read and was made of a strange purple-black stone. The pillar had holes carved into it which when wind blew through it created the moaning sounds the carried through this mournful place. At the base of this pillar was a regular limestone slab carved out in Gobbely which read, "Kufaza Derago". This place was a series of Hobgoblin burial mounds! Where they got the strange obelisks, I don't know, but they didn't look like they were carved from the hands of any Goblinoid. Whatever their origin I was glad for them for the sounds they made would provide us some cover.
Damu quickly grabbed my side and motioned me to duck down. In the haze of the setting sun I saw the silhouette of a Goose. "That's not a real Bird, that Druid escaped", he whispered to me as he drew his bow. Sure enough two hills over the goose landed by a mound and quickly shifted its form into that Gharuun. He looked in bad shape. Good, it'd be easier to kill him again. Damu snuck in closer, hugging the shadows between hills, but keeping Gharuun with in constant bow shot. I drank two potions, one to move far more swiftly then I could and another that made shadows wrap around me. He motioned to me to get in position to attack after he attacked first. I saw him dip his arrow head into a little jar of something nasty, plus his arrows heads were not only enchanted, but carved in a way that did even more damage when you pulled them out. Gharuun was kneeling before an Obelesk and had started to perform some sort of ritual when Damu fired a shot through his back and out his chest.
Leaping up the hill I was almost knocked over as the air rippled waves of force in all directions from out of Gharuun. I saw his glowing hands touch the wound and seal it. But with the arrow still stuck through him. Hopefully the healing spell he cast on himself didn't take out the poison on the arrow as well. Mother Fucker. It started to rain like mad out of no where, and Damu got knocked over by huge gusts of wind. Gharuun laughed at me as I swung my sword at his head. He ducked, and swung up with a wooden staff that caught me on the chin. I spit blood in his face and swung again. And missed again. For a crazy naked guy he moved like a fucking tiger, I'll give him that. Then I saw that next to the mound a hole was dug. I quickly figured that if this was a burial mound it was a freshly dug grave. Good. I deliberately made a shitty swing towards him again, and made an equally deliberate shitty attempt to dodge the counter blow from his staff. It hit me in the chest, and I acted like it
really knocked me on my ass as I fell towards the hole. Never, ever gloat over somebody in a fight. As I lay there in the pouring rain, Gharuun stood over me grinning with some violent yet distant look in his eyes. I have no idea where his mind really was, nor will I ever find out for in that moment I grabbed him and pulled us both down into the hole, impaling him with my sword as well hit the bottom. I stood up and saw Damu on top of the hole making a cut off his head gesture. Breathing heavy I nodded in agreement, As I tossed the head up to Damu the rain abruptly stopped.
Something picked Damu's eyes in the distance. He paused and pulled out a periscope, "Hobgoblins, about 5 of them on Boars are coming this way, yet two are pulling a cart carrying something covered in blankets. The lead rider looks important. I bet it's Jahghu Kazul. We have maybe 30 minutes before they see us." It wasn't enough time to get too elaborate with traps. The mud from the magic storm was at least helpful. Out of his side bag, Damu pulled out 4 claw traps and buried them in the mud along the hill. I was hoping for enough time to dig pit traps, they work wonders on mounted attackers. Flint, oil flasks, and trip wires would have to do. Damu made a few fire bombs and handed me one. We hunkered down on the edge other side of the hill as we listened to them ride up. I stuck my flint to light my fire bomb as the sounds of boar-snorts grew louder. I heared the distinct metal snap of a claw trap over top the awful wailing of the obelisks and the roar of a boar bred to gigantic proportions. I through the fire bomb, and heard screams in Gobbley. It was on.
Damu ran around the edge of the hill top to the left and I to right. I saw him shoot a quick burst of arrows that caught a boar in the gut and it's rider in the eye. A boar big enough for a Hobgoblin to ride is a boar big enough to bite someone as small as Damu clean in half. Those things are damn near the size of horses- not as tall, but way wider and sturdier.
Another Boar-mounted Hobgoblin charged at me swinging a morning star as his mount aimed its tusks at me. I quickly saw this was really a feint, as a bigger and badder looking Hobgoblin behind him was drawing his bow down on me. I let the first rider charge me, then I quickly dropped down on my back. It lept over me and I stabbed upwards into its belly, disemboweling the beast, but caught an arrow in my leg in return. Two Hobgoblins on foot were pulling the cart the last of the way on foot. The traps took out their mounts. The rider who's mount I killed swung his morning star down at me, and caught me in the gut, though the spikes only poked me a little bit, my armor took most of the blow. The bigger and badder looking Hobgoblin, whom I quickly figured was Jahghu Kazul was still on his mount and was calmly drawing another bow shot. Fuck the nobody with the morning star, I ran straight for Jahghu.
He leaped off his mount and ran out at me with this really nice, sleek battle axe. He caught me in the left shoulder with it and across my abdomen. I kicked him the shin, and as he stumbled Damu caught him in the neck with an arrow. As he Jahghu hesitated from the arrow shot I swiped across the chest, and down again taking of his left leg right below the knee. Morning star guy swung over from behind me and caught me in the right shoulder. Damu threw his dagger right through morning star guy's throat and I finished off Jahghu Kazul as he lay there bleeding. I took the axe and Jahghu Kazul's helmet. The thing was silver with all these fancy ivory horns. He had large key around his kneck tied with thick leather cord. I took that figuring it had to do with the whatever was under the blankets in the carts. Maybe they were leaving an offering to a recently dead Chieftain I thought. Nothing really could have prepared me for what was under there.
The two Hobgoblins pulling the cart up the hill managed to get what was in the cart off of it just before Damu killed them with a rain of arrows. It sat before the hole. We looted the Hobgoblin bodies and dumped them all in the hole with Gharuun, minus the head of Jahghu Kazul. As we started to peel layers of blankets back from what was under the them, we could start to see a glowing green light come from underneath them. I paused, and Damu's feathers stood on end. I started to feel something or someone around us, and I was immediately knocked back ten feet. I felt like I was just hit in the chest with a boulder. I think ribs broke. I could hardly breathe. As I stood up Damu screeched and pulled back the rest of the blankets.
I told you this mission was a weird one. Beneath the blankets was a big round glass jar mounded on a shinny black base, and capped with an ornate black metal lid complete with a key hole, filled with a glowing green, bubbling liquid that inside floated a large misshapen brain.Worst of all it spoke. "Where is Jahghu Kazul?", we heard a low voice speak from all directions. The Kenku practice black arts and Damu was privy to a lot of creepy shit because of what his clan did, but I could tell he was completely dumbfounded by this talking Brain in a Jar. Damu lifted up Jahghu's head and pressed it to the glass of the jar, "He's dead. We killed him." Balls of steel that bird had, even when confronted with something like this. "Where is the key that he wore around his neck?", demanded the Brain in the Jar. The thing had power, whatever the fuck it was. But it had no legs and so broken ribs or not I decided to play my hand heavy figuring that sense I had legs and the Jar did not I could run. I strode over to it with the key in hand, taunting it, "I have it but if you try that shit again I'll break it!". It made a hissing sound and the liquid inside bubbled. "Very well, what do you want?", it responded.
Damu spoke up, "What are you, why do these Hobgoblins have you and why are you here with them to meet the Druid Gharuun?"
"Very well then, I will you tell my story and then in exchange you will help bring my story to an end. I am or at least I was Draaza Kazul, Hobgoblin Shaman of Derago Tribe. I was Jahghu's Uncle. The Derago are in the employment of another race you Humans and you Kenku know nothing of. They are a foul and terrible race that dwell in deep caverns under the mountains west of Rolheim. There they plot the destruction and enslavement of all the world above and practice rites and foul sorcery so black and alien even I am aghast at the cosmic scope of their horror. Needless to say its better that you don't know this race. Many of us regret the pact our ancestors made with them in order to gain an edge over our rival tribe the Kulshychi Hobgoblins who serve the Hidden Lords of the City of Bayport. Secret wars have been waged for generations now between the shadows of Regentum and Rolheim, wars on both your edges, indifferent to the whims of Human and Dwarf. This place we call the Jurka is a casualty of that war."
This certainly I wasn't going to tell the army when we collected our bounty. On a few missions I've stumbled on to schemes and plots on a scale I tend to avoid. I'll save that shit for the military and the good guys. If this wasn't bad enough already, the Jar went on.
"Some where between these uncontested lands, close to Manas as well, there is reputed to be the stronghold of an Elven-Wizard recluse of significant prowless. I led the mission to find this Stronghold so the Derago could raid it secure the Wizards secrets for those we serve. I failed the first time and as punishment those whom the Derago serve did this did me. With in this jar they said my occult powers would be strong enough to find the Elf-Mages location, which in fact was true, but it was obvious they intended it also to be a punishment for my failure. They locked me in this state of chemical undeath. Nothing pleases a proud Hobgoblin more, other then perhaps the din of battle and the cries of fleeing enemies, then then feel of wind across his face as he rides across these vast, rolling ancestral plains on his beloved Boar mount. I did find the location of the stronghold and a great legion of Derago were called together from across the plains, and from under the earth out of the dark subterranean cities of our employers where we our are numbers are bred like cattle by our employers who have tricked us and are becoming our masters. I dread the day when these creatures have enslaved our race entirely for those bred by them will out number our proud and freeborn numbers with in a few generations. Foolishly we gave them our weak and disgraced thinking they would merely eat them, for they live on the brains of other races, but instead from these few they are raising a region of war-fodder. But as our collective force rode out to the tower we were spotted the forces of Regentum and Guidane. They broke our advance and scattered our numbers. While I have no love for Humans or your culture I am grateful that they foiled this raid. I dread to think of what power lurked in the fortress of that Elven-Wizard that those below, who already are the masters of countless volatile magics, would go to great lengths to capture it, and what they would do with it. I was to be brought here to be buried, what is left of me anyway, to be laid to rest, free of this nightmare undeath, in a proper repose fitting of noble born Hobgoblin reunited with his ancestors. The Druid, a traitor to his kind I'm told, I have mixed feelings about that, was to clean any taint of necromancy that may pollute my remains. It's too late for that now, as I assume you killed him as well. My last request is that you take the key you took from my Nephew's body, unseal my Jar-Prison and bury me with-in the mound."
I looked down at Damu, he shrugged in agreement. I didn't want to fight again if I didn't have to. I had only one healing potion on me and I needed it already. As I unsealed the Jar the sound the moaning obelisks grew to a great roar. A great burst of green-light erupted from the inside and I heard a great loud sigh of relief coming from its voice. In my minds I quickly saw a vision of tall thin beings in ornate robes with pasty pale sickly skin and faces of tentacles. I hoped I never saw such creatures again and it wasn't until our very last mission together that we ever saw any. Years later we saw the very dark truth that the Brain in the Jar that was once Draaza Kazul told us that night on the burial mound deep in the Jurka. As I pulled the brain out and carried it to the hole I saw what looked like a wispy and translucent image of a Hobgoblin adorned with all manner of ritual fetishes and symbols emerge out of the Jar. The image nodded to me and as I tossed it in we heard the ghost of Draaza Kazul say ,"Thank you".
Tired and wounded we hoped that we could make it back to the abandoned mill. I drank my healing potions as we walked into the night back the way we came. Once we were away from the sounds of the obelesks we could could hear yelling and galloping hooves in the distance. We weren't out of the mess yet. A few hours into things, perhaps a hour or two before dawn, Damu paused for a second then I heard a thudding sound as he dropped. An arrow was in his hip, and it was too dark out to tell where it was coming from.Worst off all we back on the edge of the Jurka, out on open plains with no cover. I saw two big lumbering bodies rushing towards me. I ran head long towards them and swung wildly. Two huge Bugbear berzerkers, shock troops for the Hobgoblin raiders. The Barghest had returned and it was on top of Damu! The Bugbears were all fur and muscle and armed with huge spiked clubs. Their eyes glowed a feint yellow in the dark, and they seemed consumed with a frenzied blood lust. Even still I thought I could take them, though with berzerkers of any sort you have to be careful because they'll hut themselves just to hurt you more.
I hate that Humans are damn near the only race that can't see in the dark. Thinking of that I kicked dirt in the face of one Bugbear right as the other swung down his club with both hands. It missed and I stepped on the club, leaped up and swung my sword deep into its neck and collar bone. It fell, and rolled over. The other grabbed in both its hands, making me drop my sword and it lifted me up in an effort to bite my head. I head butted it with my spiked helmet and dazed it for a second. I gutted it with a dagger and it swiped my face with its claws, leaving me with a cut from under my left eye and across my cheek to my jaw line. The other Bugbear got up and I grabbed my sword. It ran full force at me with a bone shiv and I held my ground, but ducked out the way as it went pass me and down into the Jurka. Sadly it was only ten feet to the bottom. The other Bugbear went towards the Barghest. Damu was pretty beat up. I saw him limping and holding his stomach in one hand and swinging his sword in the other. The Barghest was in wolf-thing form and its mouth drooled with a mess of feathers and blood.
Damu could do a bit of magic but he hated to do so. Not that he had a problem with magic, but he prided himself on his talents as an assassin so much that he only used such things as a last resort. Like there in that tight spot cornered between the Barghest and the approaching Bugbear. He chanted something to himself and leaped twenty feet away and over the head of the Bugbear, which he slashed wide open as he went by. As the Bugbear's skull split open I charged the Barghest and ran it through. It shriveled and shifted back into its stocky Goblin shape at the end of my blade. Damu came back and looked over the edge into the Jurka and laughed, "Hey Leo look at that!". Down in the Jurka I saw an albino frog the size of a barrel eating the insides of other Bugbear. Shit the dream was real after all! Lord that place was creepy! We made it to our horse and Damu limped into the Wagon. He was in bad shape, but he'd make it, however shitty the ride would be.
When we got back the encampment in sorry shape the Paladins were gloating at the mess we were in but shut the fuck up when we presented the heads of both Jahghu Kazul and Gharuun. I demanded that we get paid twice for in fact killing Gharuun twice, something the Pollies didn't manage to do once. Which we did, and I managed to negotiate a healing for Damu, though they really didn't want to do that. We had Sir Halton sign and dip a wax seal in our work papers saying we had completed the task at hand so we didn't have to travel all that way carrying severed heads. All in all it was a good mission with no complaints.
In regards of burying what remained of Draaza Kazul I think in this case I did the right thing. It felt right, and despite of the circumstances of why I was there in the first place, I did feel like the burial mounds were in their own way a holy and sacred spot. Don't let the Clerics know I said that, but like I said, in spite of how many Hobgoblins I sent to their ancestors over the years, I do respect them. Maybe the plains of the uncontested regions are better off left in the hands of Goblinoids and crazed Druids. Better then in the hands of Gnomes and equally greedy Humans that will poison the untouched land with factories. Though like Draaza Kazul I dread the day when those below have grown their Hobgoblin slave armies to numbers vast enough to lay waste to our nation. The masters of the Derago have a name for themselves, but as I learned from the Dwarves of Rolheim they are called Mind-Flayers by others. I learned from the one time I went to Rolheim that much of our own history that we are taught is heavily watered down by the Church.
We are taught that the earth is base and profane and that's why Bestial races who come from out of the earth rather then on top of it- Orcs, Ogres, Goblinoids, etc.- inherently have a greater predisposition towards evil. That's not completely true I've learned. These races come from wild, untamed places and are more like animals. Certainly an Orc is dumb and vicious and that viciousness easily favors things we would call evil, but it's nature is more like a hungry Wolf then it is Demonic. Also while they all dig burrows, tunnels, or live in ruins or caves, they live off of the land. They don't live underground. However there are things that live underground, deep underground and these things certainly are evil. But they are evil in a way to that is a mirror to us and that is why the Church hides their existence. There are races down below that are intelligent, build cities and have cultures, though horrific nightmare cultures left buried below. While I was in Rolheim I learned that the 1298 war of Stockdon wasn't really led by a Dragon and its forces. The Dragon served the Mind-Flayers. A small number of them in fact. Rolheim has a long history of waring with these Mind-Flayers.
Anyway, I know that a lot of the work Damu and I did was part of a bigger plan for Regentum to clear out dangers from the wild areas so that industry could be moved deeper into the interior. We were the first generation of a legion of hired swords set out to do dirty work with big business and industry moving quickly behind us. They hire young mercenaries now more then ever. I just hope that its all towards a good end. I don't want Regentum to turn into an Empire of billowing smoke stacks and loud grinding factories. If it were up to the rich the whole country would look like the factory slums of Scardale. I see the guys coming in here boasting of their exploits wanting to blow their gold on my beer and the girls I keep around here. I earned and lost fortunes a few times over to taverns and prostitutes that I know now in my fifties that it's better to be standing behind the bar then sitting in front of it. I hear the kids are getting a lot of work clearing out areas out west for the new railroad and that by the time I'm dead it'll connect Elaine with Scardale. But the government really doesn't know whats lurking out there. Some of them do, the Rangers do, but their the dirtiest bunch of crooks you'll ever run into and they'll never tell the Army, the Church and certainly not the Palladins. We have more to worry about then mere Pirates, Bandits and Goblinoid Raiders.
But if the monsters and other horrors out there don't ruin us the Gnomes and big business will.
