Beastborne- Mark of the Founder

by James T Callum

  She tried to wipe a smudge on her cheek to make herself more presentable. Each of the Rangers gasped and stepped back. They immediately sheathed any weapons they had out.

  Hal looked at Durvin and Angram behind him, both of their mouths were agape.

  “What am I missing?” Hal asked.

  “She’s a bleedin’ Oracle,” Durvin said reverently.

  103

  “What’s an Oracle?” Hal asked.

  Durvin snickered. “Somebody rarer than ye are, boy.”

  “My name is Luda,” said the small girl. “I’m sorry for not announcing myself earlier but your dwarven friend is right. I am an Oracle. I can see by your expression that you don’t know what that means.” She gave Hal a pleased smile as if she appreciated his lack of reverence.

  “The specifics aren’t important,” she continued. “But I can see mana and therein manipulate it. I’ve lost everything I once had. I say this not because I desire your pity but because I want you to understand I have no ties. I would humbly ask that you take me and these fine people into your protection.”

  Hal took a step back suspiciously. “Who am I to you?” Even with his disguise gone, it was dark in the forest and hard to see. Not to mention he was careful about his mark and made sure his bracer still covered it. He was glad it stopped projecting before fighting Shae’kathoth.

  Gladder yet that it didn’t decide to randomly start again.

  Luda looked at Hal. “You are an unbound Founder. Rare and without agenda. Except, perhaps, to establish yourself. I think we can help each other. My gifts, humble as they are, will be at your disposal should you accept us under your aegis.”

  With a sigh, Hal rammed the [Goblinbane] back into its sheath. “We’re going to be leaving soon,” he said baldly. “There won’t be much protection to go around. It’ll be a deadly and dangerous journey. I cannot guarantee anybody’s safety.”

  Tilting her head, Luda watched him with a slight curve to her red lips. “Any protection you might offer is more than I could expect elsewhere. I accept your conditions.”

  Hal didn’t mean that as an offer. He was trying to dissuade the girl.

  She went ahead ignoring him though. She looked at those that followed her and each of them nodded eagerly. “It would seem we are in agreement. These kind people are not fighters but they are skilled in other ways that I am sure a burgeoning leader such as yourself could find a use for.”

  When Hal took a moment to look at the Rangers assembled, each of them looked to Hal with… hope? Expectation? He could see the answer to their plea was already a foregone conclusion.

  The Rangers that had protected and sheltered him, kept him fed, and alive wanted this. For some reason, they trusted the Oracle and her group.

  Without the context necessary they were just another group of refugees that he felt were better off in Murkmire with the koblins.

  “What if I said I had a safe place in Murkmire for you,” he offered. “Where you needn’t threaten your lives by taking a journey that is fraught with peril? Would you prefer to stay then?”

  Luda shook her head, several of her people shuffled nervously. “I would still ask to accompany you. If you stay in Murkmire… I would stay. If you go, I would go.”

  It was clear that the Rangers already accepted her, and so he would need to as well. He would have Vorax keep an eye on them. A refugee group, desperately needing his aid at this time? It was too coincidental.

  “As long as you understand the risks,” he said. “Is this everybody?” Hal motioned to the group.

  “Yes. We once numbered nine but we were attacked.”

  Hal turned to Angram. The elf had regained his composure and stood with his palms resting atop the pommels of the blades belted at his waist. “Well, lead on then.”

  Just what he needed. Refugees. The whole reason he had gone through the trouble to provide a place for the koblins was that the journey would be deadly. And now he was supposed to protect a child with magical sight and six other non-combatants.

  With his back to them, Hal dismissed them from his mind and followed Angram deeper into the woods.

  The Rangers’ new camp was nestled amid a series of caves that dotted the sloping base of the southern mountains. The koblins painted intricate designs all over the entrances to three of the caves.

  Angram slowed and fell into step beside Hal. He chuckled. “They made themselves at home fairly quickly. We tried to tell them to keep a low profile but I don’t think they understand the concept.”

  Hal was about to respond when a shrill cry echoed down from the caves ahead. Out from the center cavern spilled dozens of koblins all hooting and hollering. Birds scattered into the dark sky, startled from their roosts by the racket.

  They had barely broken the cover of the forest but the mask-wearing koblins were out in force. Hal didn’t doubt that if he had a hostile army at his back the koblins would be no less excited to see him.

  “I’ll never understand them,” he muttered. Angram clapped him on the back and motioned to the nearby Rangers.

  Durvin stood by Hal’s side, dumbfounded. “Ye got the durned things whipped up just by yer sight.” The canny dwarf eyed Hal. “Do ye know how many leaders would kill for such loyalty?”

  Hal shook his head. “It’s not like that.”

  He snorted. “Sure it ain’t.”

  Luda came up on his other side. “Their hearts are so full of joy at your return.”

  Hal nearly jumped out of his skin. He didn’t hear the girl approach at all. “Somebody needs to put a bell on you.”

  She let out a soft tinkling laugh. “I apologize, I am used to needing a measure of stealth. By now it’s practically second nature.”

  Hal waved away the apology. “Go with Angram and see if you can’t get a decent meal and something better to wear.”

  “As you wish.”

  When Hal looked back in her direction she was gone.

  The koblins descended upon him then and lifted Hal off his feet. They cheered and hollered, even managing to sweep Durvin kicking and gnashing his teeth up into the air beside Hal.

  “Kobbie-savior is back!”

  “No-see in many clock-ticks!”

  “Muchly tongue-flaps we must have!”

  On it went as they carried the duo up into the largest cave. And there they stayed as every koblin had to see Hal. It was at least a couple of hours before Hal could settle the excitable koblins enough to explain what he had been doing. And his plan for their safety.

  As expected, they loudly voiced their disagreement. Each of them, all hundred-plus of them, wanted to come along.

  Hal tried to explain it to them.

  They outnumbered Durvin’s clan nearly three-to-one but the dwarves were hardy folk used to the dangers of traveling. Most of the koblins had never left the cave that had turned into their prison.

  He reassured them that it was only temporary. As soon as the Sanctum was founded, he would personally return to retrieve them. He would never leave them behind.

  More than anything, that seemed to appease their fears and worries.

  To their credit, when it was obvious that Hal wouldn’t budge on the issue they begrudgingly accepted his decree. All except for three koblins. Buffrix, Lurklox, and Jabkix wouldn’t allow Hal to dissuade them.

  The three were quick to point out that they were all capable fighters. Now that they had time to rest and recover they vowed they wouldn’t be a burden anymore. And so Hal eventually accepted their decision instead of drag out the issue further.

  Lootlox, the smallest koblin of all, tried to argue but Hal would not change his mind. She was so small and precious, he couldn’t bear to see her hurt. He tried to explain it but she just crossed her little arms and pointedly looked away from Hal.

  “Yer friends got a nice eye for caves,” Durvin said once Hal found a moment to sit down. The dwarf pressed a bowl of stew into his hands. “Don’t carry the load all on yer own, boy. Leadin’s at least half as
much about knowing who’s got a good head on their shoulders.

  “Ye think I manage our coffers as well as the crafting and sale o’ everything?” The bronze-bearded dwarf wagged his short beard. “Ye gotta learn to rely on others to handle things sometimes. Else yer gonna be too busy runnin’ about doin’ errands fer every durned fool who asks to properly lead yer folk anywhere.”

  Hal gave him an appraising look. “You’re right.” Hal figured they’d lapse back into quiet as they ate but Durvin seemed to have other ideas.

  “But yer thinking it’s easy to say but not so easy to do, aye?”

  “More or less,” Hal admitted.

  “If yer serious about bein’ a proper leader, then the first thing ye gotta learn is to have faith in the people that put their faith in ye, boy.”

  “I’m not sure I follow.”

  The dwarf put the bowl to his lips and slurped up the remains of the stew. He dropped it to the side with a clatter and pointed at Hal. “Then follow this, lad. I look around and I see hope when yer folk look upon ye. I see faith, Hal. But yer so unsure of yerself that ye ignore it.

  “Ye shoulder each tiny problem as if ye were nothin’ more than an average adventurer. Are ye nothin’ more than an errand boy?”

  Hal shook his head, cupping the bowl in both hands and staring into the murky contents as if they might reveal an answer.

  “I don’t know ye, lad. But me gut’s tellin’ me ye got a good heart in that scrawny chest o’ yers. It’s a common mistake o’ new leadership to take the burden o’ all onto their shoulders as if having advisors, generals, and them that ye rely on is some sign o’ weakness!” Durvin shook his head.

  The surly dwarf let Hal think on that as he ate. Durvin popped up onto his feet and trundled off deeper into the cavern to talk to one of the Rangers. Hal didn’t know what he was talking about but by the way he was gesturing madly, it was something that had the dwarf worked up.

  Which didn’t necessarily narrow down the topic of conversation.

  Altres appeared, and his ruby-skinned visage put a cork in the dwarf’s surly demeanor. But it was his smooth-talking and kindly mannerisms that kept Durvin appeased.

  As he ate, Hal looked around the cave.

  In short order, the Rangers and the koblins together had made the damp cave into a decent base. It was amazing that the Rangers managed to find anywhere that could naturally hold so many koblins. Hal was sure that their numbers somehow grew because now the official count – as far as the Rangers could tell – was somewhere north of 200 koblins.

  All about him the caves were a hive of activity. Koblins, Rangers, and one angry dwarf were moving about getting ready to head out in the morning to Clan Bouldergut’s camp. Hal was so tired he didn’t even bother to argue when it was brought up that they couldn’t possibly make it back to the dwarven camp that night.

  They had too many people to move. And since they had no idea when Hal, Elora, and Ashera would return, the Rangers had dug in for the long haul. It would all take time to break down and get moving. And none of them were keen on traveling in the dead of night.

  Hal couldn’t blame them. Even from the interior of the caves, he could sometimes make out a disconcerting wail echoing from the forest below.

  Maybe it would be better to wait until tomorrow.

  Hal had a lot to think about after what Durvin said to him. He finished his stew and he sat and he watched and he thought.

  104

  Hal spent most of the night thinking. And for a wonder, he was left largely alone. He spoke to Durvin, Altres, and Elora once or twice before bedding down for the night. And then it was only to confirm their plans to move out in the morning.

  Without death breathing down his neck or a new crisis to deal with, Hal found it easier to relax for once. He knew there was a lot he didn’t understand about being a leader. A lot the canny older dwarf could help him with if Hal let him.

  Was Durvin right? Did he really lack faith in those around him so much that he felt the need to do it all himself?

  He wasn’t a lone adventurer out for himself. His goal – now that he actually took time to look inward – wasn’t to be the strongest or most powerful creature in the world.

  It was to set up a safe haven for all peoples who felt marginalized. To give a home to the koblins, the refugees, and the people that were driven out of their homes because their only crime was to speak out against injustice and thuggish autocrats.

  That was his goal. Not to return home to Seattle, to a life that meant nothing to him anymore. Here he had friends, people he loved and cherished that stood by him even when every sane person would have abandoned him.

  Maybe he didn’t have faith in those around him like Durvin suggested. He could fix that. He could fix all of it.

  The very next morning Hal set out with the Rangers shepherding the koblins along. There was nothing they could do about the spontaneous silly songs the koblins made up and began to sing.

  They drew nearly every nasty beast for miles around and significantly slowed their progress. Hal suspected it was on purpose. But eventually, the group made it out of the dolcrest woods and into the rolling hills south of Murkmire.

  There, Hal donned his elven disguise. Even though he explained his intentions before they set out over breakfast that morning, the looks he got after Shifting Mask took hold were ones of shock and concern.

  Distant Murkmire rose up like a many-tiered cake around the mountain it called home. Hal could see the tall iron-bound gates from here and he felt a pang of guilt knowing that the koblins would rather come with him than be sequestered in there.

  But he also knew they would be far safer within the walls of Murkmire. Most of them he had learned were barely Level 2. A small handful somehow managed to stumble upon Classes but the majority lacked any actual skills beyond crafting and gathering.

  Useful, and he assured them many times throughout the journey that they would be welcomed in his Sanctum. A place where they could ply their trades freely.

  For now, they needed to be protected and numbering over 220 – and Hal was certain their numbers were somehow growing now – they were simply too many to protect at once. So they would stay within the Sanctuary for now.

  Qalmor would watch over them and all that was left was for Hal to pick a few leaders and give them a couple of rules to live by. Durvin was right. He couldn’t do it all himself. He would have to trust in those he picked to lead the koblins in his absence.

  The next step of his plan was to structure his own people so that it wasn’t always up to himself, while at the same time he wasn’t relying on a few people to guide him. What he needed to do was delegate responsibilities to people best suited for the job.

  With that in mind, they started on the final stretch toward Murkmire. Throughout it all the koblins rallied around him, eager to talk to him and be near because they knew all-too-soon he would be gone again.

  “Buffrix,” Hal called to the koblin mender with the white leather mask.

  “Hal-savior wishes to trade tongue-flaps?” Buffrix asked as he pushed through the crowding koblins.

  Though he didn’t understand the intricate – and always shifting – social structure of the koblins, he knew well enough that they prized craftsmanship above all else.

  Combat was seen as an oddity to the small things. If he wanted his representatives to be taken seriously for their own merit and not just because he appointed them, Hal needed to choose the best crafters and gatherers in the tribe.

  He instantly thought of two he had experiences with but he needed to be certain. “Could you find Sparkspox, Prowlox, and Slyrix for me?”

  Buffrix saluted, his one green ear flopped to the side as he did so with such gusto that he knocked himself in the head. Buffrix’s green lensed mask glinted in the morning light as he went bobbing about the koblins, looking for the three.

  How he knew who was who when every one of them now wore a mask, Hal couldn’t begin to guess.

&nbs
p; Eventually, Buffrix enlisted the aid of a few more koblins and was able to track down Sparkspox, Prowlox, and Slyrix.

  Hal repeated his plan once they were walking beside him. He felt it was important enough that it bore reminding the koblins that he was not abandoning them and would return for them. He would bring each and every one of them that still wanted to leave Murkmire to his new Sanctum.

  Sparkspox, Prowlox, and Slyrix were to act as his appointed leaders while he was gone. “I’ll need each of you to work together to make sure the koblins are taken care of and settling in well.

  “The people may not be kind to you but I want you to be on your best behavior. Each of you has the right to live there. Let no one tell you otherwise. There will be a man, a Captain of the City Watch named Qalmor that will look in on you. Tell him I’ve appointed you three as the representatives of the koblins.”

  Hal continued to lay out his plan for them. To find a niche they could fill in with their crafting and gathering so they could eat and be safe. There was no need to worry about lodgings since the entire Coffin District was now theirs.

  The most important tenet that he impressed upon them was that they should never fight. Defend and retreat but never retaliate. The last thing he wanted was some sort of race war going on in his absence.

  Each of the koblins – two girls and one boy if Hal understood their naming scheme right – nodded along and hung on his every word. It was more than a little uncomfortable for Hal. He had forgotten how strangely devoted they were.

  No matter how uncomfortable it made him feel, he would use it. If their devotion made them behave and stay safe then he would gladly take advantage of that tool provided.

  He wasn’t sure if that was what Durvin meant but he was willing to bet he was not far off the mark. It would do no good trying to change the koblins.

  By the time they reached the gates, Hal had to reapply his Shifting Mask again. A simple enough affair now that he was used to casting it. So long as the spell didn’t wear off and he wanted the same disguise, he could cast it without dropping it.