Beastborne- Mark of the Founder

by James T Callum

  “Are you sure?” Hal asked.

  Altres motioned to his body. “Tiefling’s don’t exactly have a stellar reputation on account of our rakish good looks and, yeah, maybe the part demonic origins but whatever. Their loss. I’d rather stay with my new best friends!” He reached forward and rubbed back and forth along a koblin’s masked head.

  The koblin giggled and pranced around excitedly.

  Hal wouldn’t have been surprised if Altres became more popular with the koblins than him by the time Hal got back later in the day.

  It didn’t take long for the Rangers to report back. Aside from a few scuffles, it seemed nothing was amiss. They led Hal, flanked by Ashera and Elora, out of the thinning forest that transitioned into a rolling series of steep grassy hills the color of straw.

  The hills, with their fur of amber grass, rippled like the sea beneath a sweet autumnal breeze. The oppressive nature of the forest was lifted. The sky remained dark and leaden, promising rain that never seemed to fall.

  It was no wonder that they moved within the forest. Out under the open sky anybody atop a hill could see for miles around. By the time they crested the third hill Hal could make out the distant blotch on the horizon that Ashera pointed out as the Sanctuary Town of Murkmire.

  Every hill they climbed brought the town closer. Its tall dark stone walls were topped with a red-tiled roof over the battlements and the large bulging turrets.

  The town rose in several wide curving terraces carved into a lonely, worn-down mountain that swept away out of sight, hinting at more. Sitting atop the mountain like a jewel in a crown was an expansive castle that stretched across the peak of the mountain with long bridges between its many towers.

  Even as far away as they were, Hal could make out the streets that curved through the upper districts. Tall, squarish buildings with steep roofs crowded the winding paths that marched ever upward.

  The land surrounding Murkmire was filled with low-lying fog and what Hal guessed to be a swamp or marsh. Tall reeds, bleached a sere yellow, obscured much of the water at first glance. Only when a strong breeze blew across the marsh did the rippling glint of water reveal itself.

  Dark stone causeways were elevated out of the muck and joined up with a battered dirt road that wound off through the hills to the east and west out of Murkmire.

  Though it seemed close, it took them the better part of an hour to reach the town’s twenty-foot-tall gates. The guard positioned there only glanced their way as they entered the opened gates with a long line of stragglers from the eastern road.

  Hal looked over, noticing that they all seemed to be clutching sacks or random possessions as if they just fled some terrible tragedy. Each of them bore a haunted expression. The guards paid them no more mind than they did to the Rangers.

  Once they were inside the town, the din nearly overwhelmed Hal. Merchants were hawking their wares, people bustled about and the ever-present ringing of hammer on metal echoed out from every street corner.

  After so long in the relative calm and quiet of the forest, he had forgotten how noisy civilization could be. But he didn’t hate it. Far from it.

  Every shop had a colorful banner bearing its name and purpose, rich tapestries stretched out over the shop fronts. Merchants of more fantastical races than Hal could keep track of were competing to sell everything from magical crystal shards to bread.

  “There’s… so much here,” Hal said in wonderment. He had expected a simple town, especially one so far away from a larger city like Sanctum-Fallwreath. He thought it would be little more than a single main street with a shop or two. Not this sprawling hive of mercantile activity.

  The only people who didn’t seem to pay any attention to the riotous display of wondrous items and mingling races were those that had entered through the gate with them.

  They looked at the ground and trudged onward, ignoring the colorful claims of the various merchants and the beautiful works of art they had on display.

  “You, yes you, fine sir!” a chubby cat-man shouted toward Hal. His eyes were bright green with slits down the center and his gray fur was streaked with darker colors like a tabby cat turned human.

  Hal looked over. The man’s whiskers twitched excitedly and he grinned wide. The merchant wore a thick coat with a wide purple scarf around his neck and an opulent necklace dangled beneath it, an array of blue crystals that shimmered and pulsed with an inner light.

  The merchant brushed a thick paw over the various crystal shards he had in small glass bowls banded with gold. “Might I interest the fine young master in some of the best Almori Shards money can buy?”

  Elora put an arm around Hal and guided him away. “We’re in a hurry, sorry,” she said as she walked Hal away. “We have no money to pay for anything,” she said in a harsh whisper, answering Hal’s curious stare.

  “I have some goblin coins,” Hal said.

  “You’ll have a hard time finding a buyer and even then you won’t get much for them,” Elora replied, as they wound their way through the throng of people. “Keep them for now, we might find a merchant who will be interested in them.”

  Delicious scents assaulted Hal’s nose and made his stomach rumble. Freshly baked bread, decadent sweets, and roasted meat swirled in the air to create a heady concoction that had Elora tightening her grip on his shoulder.

  Hal’s mouth watered and his stomach growled in objection as they passed a place called The Lost Lamb where most of the mouth-watering smells were coming from.

  Only once they had passed up the slanting thoroughfare, away from the merchants and into a plaza with the statue of a woman frozen in mid-dance atop a fountain at its center did Hal regain some measure of self-control.

  “If we have no money,” he said a little sharper than he meant to. “How are we going to get supplies?”

  Elora motioned to one of the Rangers who vanished into a nearby blunt-faced building. Unlike all the others that were curving and attractive to the eye, that building was simple and flat. Almost brutalist with its harsh lines.

  “There are some people here who are understanding of our cause and what we aim to do. They will help outfit us for the journey ahead,” Ashera added with a calming smile.

  “What about the koblins?” Hal asked.

  Elora seemed to have been waiting for that. She shared a look with Ashera. “If there is any town within the realm of Fallmark that will take them in, it is Murkmire. We will speak with the guard and make sure they know they are not a threat. We’ve been over this.”

  Just as Hal was about to object, the door to the blunt-faced building opened and out poured a dozen guards in full bronzed platemail, marching in two lines. Their breastplates were far more ornate than anything Hal had seen up until that point.

  The armor was cunningly worked, comprised of ever-smaller plates that slid over one another soundlessly and smoothly. Their design left no gap in their considerable form-fitted defense.

  The men looked lean and agile without the stereotypical fantasy-bulk, while the women’s curves were shown off without suffering from the dreaded bikini armor.

  A man in the same bronzed plate mail but with brown accents across the curves came up the center of the two lines. “I am told you have come across a goblin encampment and cleared it out, yes?”

  He was tall and just as blunt-faced as the building he resided in. His hardened eyes, like two chips of steel, flicked over each of their faces taking their measure.

  “We happened across the goblin den while we were out hunting,” Elora said. “Once we dispatched them, we learned they had been keeping children as prisoners. We’ve taken them with us and kept them with some allies to the south, at the edge of the woods.

  “We’ll gladly take you to them. Most don’t speak. And honestly, we wouldn’t be able to find their villages even if they knew where they were on a map.”

  The guard snorted. He clearly didn’t think that likely. “You three will come with us, we’ll keep your friends in the guard
station just in case there’s any… inconsistencies.” He gave a thin smile at them. “I’m sure you understand. Bandit raids in the area have been at an all-time high. If, however, you find that you were mistaken about the whole affair we’ll drop the entire matter and I will pretend this never happened.”

  Elora shrugged it off. “Fine by me.” She stepped aside, motioning. “After you, sir…?”

  There was a flash of surprise as Elora stuck to her story but the man recovered quickly. “Qalmor Brinstin, Captain of the Murkmire Watch,” he said formally with a fist to his breast and a perfunctory bow. “And you are?”

  “Elora.”

  “My name is Ashera.”

  “Hal.”

  “A pleasure,” Qalmor said. “Shall we be off then?”

  With that, everybody headed back where they’d come from and Hal had to wonder if the Rangers couldn’t have brought the guard out to them rather than coming into the town itself.

  Everything about Aldim seemed larger than life. The forests were massive. Trees towered like wooden skyscrapers. The cities were the size of metropolitan areas and the towns were as big as any city back home.

  The scope of everything was hard for him to wrap his head around.

  Murkmire was far larger than anything he ever associated with as a town. Towns were tiny places, quaint and sweet. This was a bustling metropolis with pale stone buildings that rose up several stories around him.

  Looking over his shoulder at the rise of the city’s many terraced rings, Hal saw that the walls surrounding each district were more ornate and made of lighter colored stone with each level. The buildings grew shorter and vanished entirely behind the pale walls of the upper reaches.

  It was hard not to gawk and stare at everything like some kind of gormless tourist. This was far from anything he had expected from his stay in Aldim.

  Murkmire was filled with architecture that was both enrapturing and functional. The streets were paved in hexagonal stones that fit together without a single crack or weed sprouting up among them.

  This was so far from the dirty medieval lifestyle that he expected to find all over again. The varied races were out in full force, people mingled without constantly dueling in the streets and there was a suspicious lack of filth and trash.

  Hal was tempted to ask about it but felt that he’d be overheard with the Watch so close. The trio was flanked by a row of bronze-plated guardsmen, while the captain himself stayed several steps behind. The last thing he wanted to do was tip off the guard to how strange he found everything.

  Every shop they passed, Hal wanted to rush up to the table or burst through the open door to look at all the wondrous objects on display.

  I really need to get my hands on some money. I don’t even know what they use here.

  The shopkeeps clamored for the attention of the Watch, nearly ignoring Hal, Elora, and Ashera. Hal made a note of how they treated the Watch, they weren’t fearful nor excessively respectful.

  In fact, they were treated like normal citizens.

  The only major difference was that the townspeople were quick to move out of the guard’s way. They did not bow or scrape as they passed, to Hal it reminded him of people pulling over in cars when an ambulance or fire truck was behind them. Just something they did out of habit and then got on with their lives.

  They were back out of the gates in no time at all without Hal holding them up, inspecting every shop, or being lured by silver-tongued merchants. He wanted nothing more than to rush back into Murkmire with a fistful of gold and have a full week to see all the magical items on display.

  His perception was going crazy, highlighting and limning various items in shimmering auras that marked them as magical in nature.

  I never would have thought of a place named Murkmire was a bustling trade metropolis.

  The Captain went ahead of the group and exchanged a quick word with the guard at the gate out of earshot and then they were off into the marsh, taking the causeways that led them up into the rolling amber hills. From their position, the hills crested so high above them that he couldn’t even make out the distant treetops in the forest ahead.

  It felt like they were standing before golden waves frozen in time just waiting to crash down on the unsuspecting travelers.

  Even with the Captain showing them the best paths to take, it still took them nearly an hour to reach the forest’s edge.

  As they were nearing the final rise, Hal decided it would be best to bring up their “allies” since nobody else seemed to want the job. “There’s something else,” he said, slowing his pace to match Qalmor.

  The Captain gave him a wary look, the silver circlet that graced his brow glinted in the watery daylight. Hal hadn’t noticed him wearing it before. Which would have been hard to miss considering his hair was shorn close on the sides and the top was slicked back, easily revealing his sharp features.

  “What do you know of koblins?” Hal asked.

  25

  “I have heard of koblins, but only in passing. Why?” Qalmor asked. “What does that-”

  The Captain’s words were cut short as they neared the edge of the forest and a koblin sauntered into full view. At once thirteen swords cleared their scabbards.

  Hal rushed out ahead of the group and stood in front of the suddenly frightened koblin who had fallen with a squeal of surprise onto his backside.

  He turned, keeping the koblin behind him protectively. “No! They mean no harm, without them the children would have died. We would have died without their help.”

  Nobody put their swords away but Hal did notice they held them a bit more relaxed. “Tell me why I shouldn’t run you all through immediately for an attempted ambush of the Watch,” Qalmor said.

  “Because if I were going to ambush you,” Hal began with as much calm as he could, “I would have led you inside the forest and out of sight before springing a trap. What idiot would try to explain the very – supposed – trap before unleashing it?”

  The Captain let out a rough chuckle. “I’ve met a lot of idiots in my day, son.” His sword point tipped to the dirt. “Fine, you’ve made your point. Now, allow me to make mine.”

  With a snap of his fingers, the members of the Watch surrounded Elora and Ashera, swords pointed.

  Hal’s heart pounded in his chest at the speed of the maneuver. Elora, with her swift reaction, had only the time to touch the blade at her hip. A motion she was now undoing with great care.

  Qalmor stepped up to Hal and clapped him on the shoulder. “We will go inside and see these children.” He turned and called over his shoulders at the Watch, “If I do not come out in five minutes, detain these two and report back to the gate guards for reinforcements.”

  It wasn’t ideal but as much as Hal wanted to, he couldn’t fault the man’s pragmatism. In the end, it was probably more than he would have gotten anywhere else.

  Context is so important. And history. I know nothing about this place. Adorable, funny people like the koblins are endearing to me but I have no prejudices against their goblin brethren. These things were all make-believe and fun when I was growing up. Not horror stories told by my parents to keep me from wandering too far.

  When Hal didn’t move, Qalmor cleared his throat. “After you.”

  “Yep.” Hal turned to the koblin and helped him up. “Can you run along to the camp and let them know we’re coming?”

  The koblin did a funny little salute – it was becoming more common than he liked whenever he asked them to do something – and hurried off into the forest.

  “For such a small creature, they move very fast,” Qalmor remarked.

  “They’re full of surprises if you’d let them show you.”

  To that, Qalmor had no reply. They pressed into the forest and before long were flanked by two Rangers.

  “Everything okay?” Angram asked.

  “It’s fine,” Hal said. “Just showing the Captain here that we mean no harm.”

  Yesel, who was on the
other side of Qalmor looked him up and down. “Eyes like a cow, this one, if he thinks we would show ourselves before harming him.”

  Qalmor was about to say something in response but the words died on his lips as they came through a wall of dense overgrowth and he viewed the camp proper. It took a lot longer for his eyes to adjust to the many campfires surrounded by dozens upon dozens of koblins.

  Angram clapped the Captain good-naturedly on the back, that the man didn’t respond was a testament to how stunned he was. “See, dear Captain? If we wanted to harm you, we could have simply overrun you.

  “But as you can see, the koblins are gentle little lambs.” He pointed to a campfire with a particularly raucous koblin dancing around the flames. “Look at how the children cheer and clap for him. Absolutely menacing!”

  The Captain cleared his throat and sheathed his sword. “Yes, yes, you’ve made your point.” The koblins parted readily for them as the Captain and Hal made their way to the children too transfixed with Buffrix’s antics to notice them. “So many….”

  Whether he was talking about the children or the koblins, Hal couldn’t be sure.

  “Now that I have seen them with my own eyes, we can return.” Qalmor gave Hal a wry look on the way back. “I would not wish for any harm to come to your companions.”

  Hal couldn’t help the blade-thin smile that curved his lips. “I was just about to say the same thing.”

  As practiced and skilled as the Watch were, Hal wouldn’t bet against the Rangers on their home turf.

  * * *

  The next few hours were a flurry of activity as Qalmor organized a detachment of the Watch to escort the children safely into Murkmire. The whole affair took far longer than it should have to Hal, mostly due to bureaucratic nonsense that Hal hardly was able to follow.

  Tilda, the waifish girl who had seen his Founder’s mark, ran up to him and hugged him so tight around the middle he could hardly breathe. “Thank you for saving me,” she whispered. “When I grow up I want to be just like you. I’ll make you proud, Hal!” With that, she spun and darted off to join the children.