Chapter 13 Sweet Smoke 

Year of Wrath 1231, Season of Harvest, D.83, Knoll / Ilgor

     I watched as Ilgor commenced the ritual to pass off the Raider Leader role to Hob. It was the same as when she was given the role, the clan gathered around to watch as the words were given. The Chief gave his command to Hob, he was given a new knife to commemorate the transfer. A sturdy, but plain thing, It had a hand guard around the handle that wrapped around the fingers. The blade itself was about as long as Hob’s forearm.

     Though this was a fairly uncommon ritual. Ilgor had been given the title from the former leader after he became too old for the position. The raid leaders were usually given the role after the previous one had died in the line of duty. The chief was supposed to be the one to do this, though it wasn’t unheard of to have the priestess do it. 

     Ilgor had winched as Hob came up from the kneeling position before her, the large spiderwebbed scar across his face from their fight hadn’t healed well. She touched his face gently with the tips of her fingers, and a sad smile crossed her face. To everyone’s surprise, Hob had grabbed her and pulled her into a tight hug and whispered something to her. 

     The Chief, to his discredit, and disliking that this wasn’t supposed to be part of the ritual, raised his fist to point at him. “Hob, What did you just tell her? Do not disrupt the ritual.” He barked.

     “Are you scared of her?” I said softly next to him, trying to goad him.

     “Not now Knoll” He growled. Glancing back at me, Cori being the left hand to my right, smirked.

     “She was nothing but a benefit, and you got cold feet.” I continued, feeling the sneer grow on my face as well.

     “Knoll, watch your tone.” He turned to me, and tried to stare me down.

     I knew him well enough to know he wouldn't try anything here. At least not in front of the family, though he would try. All he was trying to do was puff his chest and look in control.

     I stared him down as well, letting him see the small motion I made to put my hand on the handle of the ax at my side. “Coward” Was all I said to him. 

     Hob had piped up, dissipating the tension in the air. “I told her, I would try to follow her example.” Cori and Ghet had side-eyed each other at that comment. They were both thinking the same thing, because I was too. Would he really try to lead the raiders like she did? He had a notorious temper, and he was short sighted. 

     But, to his credit, Hob accepted the role, and there was no animosity between him and Ilgor. He had turned back to her, and spoke “Mother” She still wasn’t used to being addressed like that, she flushed a bit at the honorific “I will lead by your example and bring the family prosperity and safety.”

     I couldn’t blame her, Mother’s health had been declining since the dream ceremony. I suppose she wasn’t quite set in her mind about becoming the priestess so quickly.

     The Chief had frowned at the comment, as the saying was supposed to be “I will lead by your example and bring the family prosperity and glory as Bhal wills it.” I thought to myself that everyone here wanted to be insubordinate today and chuckled to myself, to which the Chief looked back over at me.

     Both Ilgor and Mother had raised their hands together and offered Hob a prayer of strength and wisdom. The soft glow from their hands permeated through Hob as they touched the tips of their fingertips on his forehead. The ritual was for all intents and purposes complete, a few of the raiders came up to the small group and patted Hob on the back. 

     The Chief turned fully to me, rage in his eyes. I stared back, calmly and defiantly. He nodded his head off to the side to indicate he wanted to talk privately. 

     I shrugged, and started walking to the ‘Tavern’. I wanted to force Yorm to follow me, and not the other way around as he would have liked. I got my confirmation when I heard his footsteps behind me. 

     We walked down to the southern cave, the silence hanging over the short jaunt like the calm before the storm. I pushed past the cloth that served as the door to the cave, and sat down at my usual spot behind one of the tables. Popped the cork off a bottle, and took a deep drink when Yorm walked in, ax in hand. 

     Taking in the darkened cave, taking a deep breath of moist earthy air. “Do you really want to fight so badly?” He asked.

     I took another deep drink of the fire in the bottle. “Do you really think that we wouldn’t see what you did?” I spat back at him. The corners of my mouth twitched up when he dipped the head of his weapon imperceptibly. “Did you really think that we didn’t know that you have been trying to convince Mother to take Ilgor as her acolyte so she wouldn’t be able to challenge you?” 

     “I” He began as he swung the ax back on his shoulder “...Don’t know what” I didn’t let him finish before I flipped the table over and charged him. He didn’t have the time to react by the time I belted him. 

     “DO YOU REALIZE WHAT YOU HAVE DONE?!” I roared at him. “Do you think that you have the clan’s interest at heart? Do you really believe that you are not making a selfish power grab?” I lifted him up by his vest. He spat out a bit of blood off to the side.

     “She was nothing but a godsend, YORM, and you could only think that she was more successful than you. She hasn’t lost a single raider, she always comes back with something for the family. She was beginning to get the City off our backs” I dropped him back on the ground with a hard thump and stalked back to my chair. 

     “Maybe you're right.” He grunted, as he lifted himself back off the ground. “But, I still think she is going to be a good fit for Priestess. Call it what you want, but I still think Hob is also going to bring us glory.” 

     “Cut the shit Yorm. Glory my ass, Bhal be damned. You want the glory so you can fight by his side in the next life. Just admit that you want to fight and relish the chance to fight the city and prove yourself.” I tossed a bottle to him.

     Catching it, he only stared pensively at it for a long while. I had known him since we were boys, we both have seen our share of blood and glory. I didn’t want it anymore. I want only to see the family safe now, but this jackass took down the most promising prospect to make that happen. I didn’t know if I really understood my friend much anymore.

     I could see the glory seeker behind his aged face. An old man that hadn’t faced the truth that he wasn’t a young man anymore. “What’s so wrong with trying to stick to tradition? We’ve been doing this for generations after generations. It has worked for this long, so why shouldn’t we keep doing it? Why should I let Ilgor change our fighters to be more… submissive?” He huffed as he heaved the table back upright and sat down.

     “We are not having this argument again.” I huffed and continued annoyed “besides all the dead brothers and sisters, the constant fear of retaliation. Yeah, great traditions here Chief. Try and change my mind.” 

     He only corked the bottle and downed half of it. Pushing, I added “You really going to overlook Hob basically saying he would follow Ilgor and not you?” He didn’t say anything, the sound of his teeth grinding answered for me. “Seems to me that she is still a leader, and not just our new Mother.”

     Exasperated, he breathed out “For fucks sake Knoll, can you just drop it.” 

***

     I was surprised to see that Hob’s scar hadn’t healed properly. I hadn’t actually had a good look at him since I talked to him in the cave. I didn’t think I hit him that hard. The white skin contrasting with his dark green only made it far more obvious, more real. 

     The ritual was mostly what I was expecting, Mother did walk me through much of it. Told me the reasoning, but she did admit that it was a little odd that the Chief made me do the ritual instead of himself. She had said that it was a little distasteful of him to make me give my own role away like that, she tisked when she told me about it.

     Though it didn’t feel that way to me, especially after Hob had hugged me and told me he would still follow my orders. Lying when he told the Chief what he said. I tried to tell him that I wouldn’t be giving him orders anymore, and that if he wanted to talk to come and find me. 

     He had only repeated himself and took my hand “I think I understand what you were trying to beat into my thick head, something just seems to me like I should follow you. I feel it here” He took his hand back, and tapped his chest. He quickly scratched the back of his head and he looked away.

     “You know Hob, if you wanted to confess, you can do it better” I laughed as he reddened, I bumped into him as I walked past him “I’m kidding Hob, but I do appreciate it, you’ll do great as long as you actually go scouting and try and spare as many people as you can.”

     I walked down to the tavern, and didn't have to wonder if anyone was there. I could hear the argument between Knoll and the Chief from a ways off. A few others were standing outside, waiting for the heat to die down.

     They all nodded at me and the “Mother” title came out of their mouths. I still wasn’t used to it, don’t know if I ever would. Maybe I’d try and get them to not do that and use my name instead. I noticed that Ghet was standing next to the cloth doorway halfway inside, he gave me a curious look. 

     “What?” I asked him. The argument had gone quiet for a moment, almost as if they heard me walking up. It wasn’t as if I was trying to be sneaky, the rocky part of the beach wouldn’t let you do that well. 

     “They are arguing about you again. The Chief is really getting it handed to him. So much for that front of respect and rank he tries to keep up.” He said in a quiet whisper so that the two inside wouldn’t hear him.

     Shaking my head, I walked past everyone else and pushed the cloth aside. It was dark inside, Knoll hadn’t lit the few lanterns that were on the tables yet. Though the smell of booze and grease filled the air, it was nostalgic. It had been that way since the first week they had built the place, the conversation between the two died immediately. 

     “Well hi Knoll, Chief” I gave the Chief a small bow “If it isn’t me, the problem.” I tried to sound disarming, but I don’t think it worked well. Knoll laughed, the Chief only turned back to his bottle. 

     “So, just so you know, you had quite the audience.” I told them. 

     “What?” The Chief rose a look of anger on his face in the dim light, “Who's out there?!” He yelled to the few outside the cloth door. 

     A few moments later, and a few more shadows showing up on the cloth backdrop, Ghet, and the others walked in. “How long were you all listening?” 

     “Long enough” Ghet said to him as he pulled up a chair and Knoll handed him a bottle. 

     Flustered and obviously annoyed at his conversation being heard by everyone, he left. The boards creaked under his weight as the others parted to stay out of his way. Ghet lit the lanterns in the room, and paused as he noticed the cracked table. He looked over at Knoll, who only grinned and shrugged. 

     “You know Knoll, you're the only one who gets away with a fight with him.” He sighed and started packing a small amount of tobacco in a pipe he had in his bag.

     The others took up chairs and sat at the table with Knoll. Ghet lit his pipe with the lantern and took a few puffs. “I would hope so, I’ve been the closest thing to a real brother he has ever had.” Knoll grunted. 

     “You do realize we can see the cracks forming here right? Are you planning on trying to become Chief?” There was an uncomfortable silence in the room now. Ghet puffed a few more times, the sweet smell of the smoke filling the room. 

     “No, I’m not, I’m only angry with the situation.” He said. He looked over at me, and stared in my eyes for a few moments. “I do not like that he took a promising raider out of command. I do not like that he wants to follow the same bloody path he always has.” 

     He rubbed his eyes, I only now noticed how tired he looked. “I am worried he’s going to do something stupid and really get the City’s attention. I think he was worried about you Ilgor” 

     He fished another pipe out from a shelf behind him and tossed it to me. Ghet not missing a step, handed me a bit of his tobacco. “Worried about what? I thought he was just annoyed at his own raids not yielding as much as he would have liked?” I said as I took a few draws from the now lit pipe. 

     “Besides”, I continued “he’s never been outright angry with me. He has always been as he’s been with me, even after I became a raid leader.”

     “To your face yes” Ghet barked about as dourly as Knoll looked “Ilgor, you wouldn’t have ever been shown what he’s really like. He puts up a decent front when he’s in front of everyone, but…” a few of the others piped up.

     “Bullheaded”

     “Angry”

     “Glory seeker”

     Were a few of the things that came out of everyone’s mouths. Though it was followed up with a thorough round of laughing at the Chief’s expense. “I didn’t know you all had such a… unique opinion about him.” I said letting the smoke out of my mouth as I talked. 

     Ghet answered as Knoll opened his mouth. “You have to understand that everyone here, was or is under the Chiefs direct command, or are his raiders. We’ve been doing this for a long time. After a while, the killing, the raiding, the constant worry. Well, “He accented his words with a flourish of his pipe in my direction “It gets old. We’re old. Though I am happy that we can come and talk to you about old memories now. They eat at you, over time anyway.” They all nodded in agreement.

     “And then the Chief, out of nowhere, makes you, a young girl, a raid leader. There were talks about you showing promise because you were always popular growing up. I guess he figured that no one would really have a problem listening to you.” 

     “What I think he, us” he amended slightly “weren’t expecting, was that you’d actually be doing something different. Ilgor, I don’t think you realize just how refreshing it was for us to see a different style of command, or one that had very little bloodshed involved. One that had us planning far more than fighting.” 

     I reached over and grabbed one of the bottles in the middle of the table, uncorked it, and drank. “I didn’t think it would be such a problem. I only wanted to keep the boys out of harm's way. I figured the best way to do that was quick decisive strikes and not engaging in much actual combat. You don’t hunt hogs with daggers and all that.”

     “You are right” Cori’s voice came through the cave and we all turned to look at her walking in. “I honestly don’t know a better way than what you were doing.” She said as she sat next to Knoll. 

     I gestured with my hand and spoke again, “Aside from doing what humans do, I thought it was best.”

     “Do what humans do?” One of the others asked.

     “Farming, trading, diplomacy” I said frankly.

     “Never gunna happen,” Ghet sneered “Not with the Chief being such a traditionalist.”

     “What about Mother? Wouldn’t she like to see more of the family safe and hale?” I asked.

     “She’s almost as bad, yeah she’s more sympathetic. But, Bhal is her first priority. You know how she gets when she gets talking about the next life. "To fight alongside the Great Father, we must live as we will in the next life’” Cori said, mimicking Mother’s lecturing tone, getting a laugh out of the group.

     “I’m beginning to see that more the more she teaches me” I chuckled out. “Well what can we do about it, it’s not like we can change their minds.” 

     Everyone looked at me, an awkward silence hung in the air again. I flushed with everyone's eyes on me. Knoll broke the silence leaning in and resting his elbows on the table. He folded his hands together, his purple eyes boring into me “What can we do about it indeed.”

     There was a lot of glancing around at one another as I said “No, they are still family. We all are. We are not doing what you are thinking.”

     A pause for what felt like an hour. He closed his eyes and relaxed back into his previous position. Knoll sighed heavily, and spoke with a sense of respect I wouldn't have thought to get from him “Very well Mother, but, give it time. Maybe you can see what we can see eventually.” 

     I relit my pipe and filled the table with smoke as I let the silence hang there. 

     “Are your nightmares getting any better?” Ghet asked me with a glance at Cori.

     The question, while good in attention, slapped my mind, and there I was again, back on that field. That giant staring through me. Peering deep into my soul, see through all my self made lies, all my thoughts, my ideas. Saw through that warrior I was on that battlefield, and to the young naive girl.  My hands started to shake as I couldn't stop myself. 

     I remembered that corpse that talked and followed me around. Those kind strangers in the field around the campfire. The way the shadows danced across their faces, that woman. That face, her all encompassing eyes. She could have been my mother. The table beneath my hands started growing frost. 

     I started as someone put their hand over mine, pulling me back out of my mind. Ghet’s thin fingers clasping mine “Forget I asked”. I gazed back down at the bottle in my hand, everyone exchanged a sad look.

     “I think I need some air for a while” I said, and walked out of the tavern. 

     I didn’t realize I had the pipe still with me after about an hour of walking out of the village. I only wanted to walk, to clear my mind of the dreams. I was getting a bit better at it, though whenever someone tried talking to me about it. Well, it just never goes well.

     “Maybe I should talk to myself about it. Maybe that would help at least a little. Maybe words spoken out loud are better than the words in my head.” I told myself, my voice shaking just a little. I had crossed over the green creek that divided our territory with where Caleb’s workshop was.

     “No, I don’t really feel like talking to someone else right now.” The tall grass brushing against my thighs, I also wasn’t used to this robe that Mother had given to me. Well, she called it a robe anyway. The thing was thin, accentuating my figure a bit too much for me. 

     I had chosen to wear another sash I made with Caleb around my waist and a hood so the material would lift off my chest more. The open sides along the robe were also a bit annoying, making walking a lot easier, but it did show a lot off when I walked. 

     “Why did she give me this? I know she said it’s traditional until we can make my own staff, but still… Does it have to be so awkward?” I asked the air around me. The only response I got was a wren singing back at me for startling it. 

     I was finally past the workshop field, I continued walking through the woods that surrounded it. I enjoyed the relative quiet here, only the soft breeze through the canopy and the faint bird song in the distance. 

     I enjoyed the feeling of the soft cool earth under my feet, the motion of walking helping calm me down a little more. The light filtering through the leaves, the shifting shadows, making it feel safe and calm. 

     Her face swam in my vision again, breaking my trance. I stared, “Always creeps up on me when I’m not expecting it.” I said, sighing. I kept walking over another small cliff face encrusted in a thick carpet of bright green moss. The moist air from the bay always got stuck here, and made this part of the forest humid at all times of the year.

     “I’m not sure, I just don’t know what I saw. I just don’t understand.” I crawled over the top of the cliff face, and found myself on the outskirts of the Outer Fields of the City. The harvest of the wheat had long since been over, though the fields were pockmarked with squash and pumpkins. 

     “I don’t understand why Mother hasn’t given me straight answers. Whenever I ask about the blessing, she doesn’t want to talk about it.” I reached up to a low hanging branch and pulled a withered apple off the tree and took a bite out of it. “I don't get why she is always skittish when I talk about the shadows in my dreams, or about those three other people. Or even the Giant.” 

     The earth gave way to a hard beaten path, and I realized that I was making my way to the city. I dashed behind a building and looked around. I spotted an old fire pit and scooped out a handful of ash. There was a horse trough not too far away on the other side of the farm.

     I snuck my way over to it, trying to stay in the taller grass and out of sight of the windows on the house. When I got to the trough it had just enough water in it for me to make a paste with the ash. I painted my skin with it the same way I always did when I was near the city to match the gray skin tones of the Gnomes. 

     I flipped my hood up and tucked my ears down the back of the robe. Adjusting the sash so that It would cover my legs more when I walked, I started down the path again. 

     “Why do I see fire in my dreams? Why do I see Bhal standing on a mountain of dead? I thought he was supposed to be a benevolent father, at least that's what Mother keeps telling me.” I whispered to myself as I entered the dockside district of the City. I let my mind wander, taking in the sights of the humans, Dwarves and Gnomes milling about on the slick port. 

     Someone was selling a sweet smelling tobacco on a market stall sitting over the water. I walked over and pulled a silver coin out of a hidden pocket under the sash. The merchant looked at it, weighed it on a scale and dropped a fluid on it. Nothing happened when he did that. He looked back down at me and asked “Which kind would you like?”

     I pointed at the middle stack of leaves, the ones that smelled richly of spices and cinnamon. “Ah, a fan of Corojo? An aromatic leaf it is” He grabbed a small box and began putting the leaves in it, gently folding them so they wouldn’t break. He handed it to me and asked if I knew how to light them.

     “What do you mean?” I answered quizzically.

     “Well I can see the pipe sticking out of your strange belt.” I looked down at the sash and realized I got it caught there while adjusting it. Somehow it hadn’t fallen out. “You just bought leaves meant for cigars, if you aren’t planning on rolling your own, I can show you how to do it with your pipe.”

     “I… would appreciate that.” I didn’t know what a cigar was, but I didn’t want to admit that here, I never knew what humans would pick up on and find strange. Make myself a target of suspicion I would not. 

     He quickly took out his own, and cut a strip of the leaf off and coiled it tightly into his pipe. He “Toasted” the leaf in his pipe. Then a small flame on his finger tip appeared and lit it properly. “And that's how it’s done!” He smiled widely at me. “You know, I’ve never seen a Gnome with such pretty eyes. I didn’t know your peoples eyes could be purple.”

     “I’m not from the Island, I come from the Northern Wastes. My mother had the same eyes as me.” I lied.

     “Makes sense. The compliment stands” He waved at me as I walked toward the city gate. A slight nervousness took hold of me as I walked past the gate house. As long as the guards didn’t pay attention to me, I was in the clear. 

     I decided to try and act casual as I walked past, by lighting my pipe the way the merchant had showed me. Though it was a little odd being able to make fire like that. Caleb explaining that magic worked off intent and ability did help quite a bit as well. 

     While I was in the process of doing this, I ducked my head down, and walked past the guards while the sweet smell of smoke filled my nose. I still wanted to keep walking though.

     I don’t remember how long I walked around the city, it felt like hours. Taking a stroll through the market square, looking at what was on offer. A cacophony of items on display. Hundreds of different things, each to my eyes more interesting than the next. “I don’t see why we can’t do this Chief. This seems so much less risky than stealing it all from everyone. Besides, these people have families to feed too” I thought to myself. 

     I had stopped talking out loud in the city a few hours ago after more than one person stopped and responded. A mage commenting on religious rituals holding quite a bit of power after I accidentally mentioned the transfer of the blessing out loud.

     Or a supposed diplomat wanting to know more info as the commentary I let slip from the tavern earlier as I sat cross legged on a balcony railing talking to myself. We did have a nice discussion, though I switched topics. The diplomat ended up giving me a crash course in the finer points of court etiquette and how the royalty might find my purple eyes an affront. 

     I found myself walking down a strange part of the city after a short while. Buildings made in dozens of different styles, hundreds of different materials. Every last surface was covered in paint, tiles and carvings. Visually it was enthralling.

     The bright and vibrant colors directing my sight to seek out new wonders. I heard soft music behind every doorway, beautiful singing on every corner. I even found myself listening to a man screaming to a thrumming baseline about a goblin warrior that had saved the town. 

     I couldn’t figure it out, but I liked the instrumentals of a distorted nature with a guitar and a massive bass drum. I moved on after my hood almost slipped off after someone brushed past me in a hurry to go the other direction.

     The sun had set long ago and the city was filled with a golden light as the rays crested over the city walls and the tops of buildings. Roving crews of city watch were going around lighting the decorative metal lanterns that hung on every street at about a forty pace distance between each individual one. 

     “This place is wonderful, it's full of life. I wonder how we could do this? Maybe someday we could, maybe we could build up our little village like this.” I stopped and paused for a moment. “Huh, it’s been a while since I thought about the dreams.” I waited, expecting something to come to mind to hurdle me back to the nightmares again. But nothing did, and a wide grin cracked my face.

     “I think I might have to come here more often.” I told myself.

     I wandered to the sound of a rhythmic hammer strike. I knew the sound well, this was a forge like Caleb had. I climbed over the wall around the workshop, the gates had been locked for the night. The gate itself was insane, an infinitely spiraling design of fine lacework. I didn’t know someone could do that with metal, I was curious to watch who was working in there.

     There was a slight pause as I fell lightly into the courtyard, just the slightest delay in the hammer strikes that made me think the person had spotted me. But, the beats picked back up, in fact, the hammer strikes seemed to change slightly almost as if following the beat of a song.

     The smith had one side of their face burned away, they had the ashen skin of a Gnome. But, something wasn’t right. All the Gnomes I saw had long spindly arms and narrow shoulders, this smith had the bulk and inborn strength of a Dwarf. “So this smith was a mix, odd must be a rare breed of person.” I thought to myself.

     I noticed what the smith was working on. The forge wasn’t lit, the smith bathed the metal in a constant flow of fire from their hammer and hands. The metal was a large sheet with an incomprehensible amount of symbols carved into it. A low glow suffusing through the material. “I don’t think that glow is coming from the heat. Is the smith an artificer like Caleb?” 

     The smith flicked their eyes up and looked directly at me. At least I thought they did, because they only went back to hammering on the metal and spreading it out to the beat of a foreign song. 

     The shower of sparks illuminating the courtyard, I climbed out from the crate I was hiding behind and climbed my way to the rooftop of the workshop. I figured the smith wouldn’t look up, if they looked up at all. Only the smith flicked their eyes back up at me again, directly into my eyes. 

     “Would you like to hear the song I’m belting out?” The smith asked me. Their voice was oddly pitched in a way that I couldn’t tell if they were a man or a woman. I was startled enough that I lost my grip on the rooftop and fell back down. 

     “So I take it you didn’t think I could see you? Well the goggles I’m wearing show me nearby heart beats. You really couldn’t hide from me if you wanted to. So back to the question, would you like some music?” The smith asked me again.

     “Why do you want to play me music after I just snuck in here?” I asked from the sitting position rubbing my back.

     “What? What language is that? It’s not Zybtine, not Mistwalker, or the dialect from the swamps along Huron… I love it! It sounds like a warbling bird!” The smith put the hammer down and walked over to me, I hadn’t realized I spoke in my native language.

     The smith offered a hand to me and pulled me up. But, then abruptly pulled my hood down revealing my ears to the smith to see. I panicked, and tried to bolt, but the smith’s iron grip wouldn’t allow me to. 

     “Please I’ll leave, I won’t come back. I promise, please just let me go. I don’t mean any harm.” My voice cracked, as I tried helplessly to get out of the smith's grip. 

     “Oh I know that, I just don’t want you to leave before you hear the song I was hammering out.” My ears folded back on themselves, a truly perplexed look on my face as my mouth fell open. 

         The smith cackled maniacally, “I have never met a goblin before, I’m curious. I don’t really care what you are, I just don’t care as long as whatever I’m talking to can understand and reciprocate.”

     I slackened in the smith’s grip, baffled. Was this person okay? Were they a bit unhinged? No one had this reaction to a goblin, not in this city anyway. “Alright, let's play your song.” I told the smith. 

     The smith let me go, and walked back over to the forge and lit it with a blast of fire. The smith then walked over to a small device and said to it “Please bring out that synth piano, the drums, and a guitar please”, a crackling sound came from the device. “Yes, Forgemaster, where are you?”

     “The usual place” The Forgemaster turned their gaze to me and offered me a seat. I took up the offer and sat down, enjoying the heat from the fires on the now cool night air. “My name is Khamere, What is yours?”

     “Ilgor” I answered, I looked around quickly “Someone is going to see me here besides you?” 

     “Yes, and this is my forge. What I do here is my business alone. No one has the right to question who I bring here. If that is your concern.” My mind was put slightly at ease at that. “You don’t seem to be unaccustomed to a forge, the way you were watching me work. I didn't think the goblins could even work metal, can you?”

     “Me, yes, the rest of my people, only a few others.” I answered, resting my elbows on my knees.

     “My my my dodging the question as to how” Khamere laughed again. “You have someone teaching you?” 

     There was long silence, I didn’t want to tell the smith about Celeb. However, the smith offered a plate of food to me seemingly out of nowhere. “How?” I stammered, not seeing where it came from. “Where?”

     The smith pushed a button on the side of the forge’s hull and a display popped up that had two options. Guest, and Forgettables. Pushing the button again, a plate of food popped into existence. “I used the wayfarers type of magic to make a teleporter of premade food to the workshop. The kitchen staff for the workshop prepare all this in the mornings and then gets divvied out throughout the day.”

     “Thank you, It is appreciated.” I told the smith.

     “So where did you learn to speak common?” I heard a door open from on the other side of the workshop and three richly clothed bards came out. One with a strange instrument that vaguely resembled a keyboard on a piano. Another with a brass bound drum, and the final with a dark lacquered guitar. 

     All three stopped when they saw me. One tried to speak, but the smith cut them off “Do not question it, do not bring it up again.” Khamere turned back to me and made a motion for the bards to start playing something. “So where did you learn to speak common?”

     “I learned it from listening in on travelers, and watching what the children were learning.” I told Khamere.

     “My my my, a wonderful ability for perception! Fascinating that you were able to learn the language without actually being taught it!” The Forgemaster laughed. 

     The music the bards were playing was mesmerizing, a deep lilting tune, with a falling crescendo and deeper baseline. I was bobbing my head to its beat. It did actually have the same beat that the Forgemaster was beating on the metal with. “You are an artificer, yes?” I ask the smith.

     “Why yes I am! I am the Forgemaster of the city, I make all sorts of strange and wondrous things. Like those goggles for instance, the Baron’s military enterprises were quite eager to get those.” I cocked my head at that. Looking back at me the smith added a slightly worried expression on my face. “I… suppose that isn’t good news for you to hear. Ah, don’t worry about it. The Chancellor won’t spend the money on them for the watch. Which would be the ones to deal with your… hmm how to put it? Antics?’

     “We don’t want to be doing that by the way” I chided back at the smith, “it isn’t out of any maliciousness,” I sighed knowing how well this was going to sound “It’s just our culture”

     Without missing a beat the Forgemaster added “Then change it. If you don’t want to be attacking the city, then don’t. Because that's the way the city itself sees it. You goblins are a minor nuisance though, hardly make a dent in trade at all.” Khamere pointed at me “You however are not what I was expecting. Stealthy, politically aware, a music lover, apparently a bit of a craftsman to boot.”

     I was somewhat taken aback, quite a few inferences the Forgemaster was able to pick off about me with what little I gave. I just sat in silence and listened to the lovely tune. I danced about in my seat for a while while I listened to the ebbs and flows of the music.

     The Forgemaster and I engaged in conversation about music and the instruments. Encouraged me to keep talking about my people and the way we worked. I spoke only enough to satisfy the smith's curiosity until we moved to the next subject. 

     A fourth bard came out and started adding vocals to the songs. I got off my chair and danced to the beat, a slow and heavy tune. My long braid had found its way out of my robe and swung behind me as I twirled around. 

     The Forgemaster commented that it looked like a tail in the darkness, commenting that I was very good at this. “You’d put those pompous pricks in the court to shame. Now this dancing has life to it! Not that washed out waltzing they are fond of.” The Forgemaster cackled again “They claim it has refinement, and a dignified quality to it. I say it’s full of shit. This is refined, you are a pleasure to watch.”

     I smiled as I pirouetted and listened to the bards comment on a goblin who wasn’t a vicious animal. A small spark of pride awoke in my chest, and I started singing along to the song. 

     Though this felt different, this didn’t feel like the same magic Bhal would have granted or even my own voice. It felt stronger, more nuanced. The area filled with a soft glow that condensed into a series of green lights that drifted upward to mimic a constellation. Not what I had intended, but it fit the subject of the song. 

     The Forgemaster whispered “Now that’s a magic I haven't seen before, it’s gorgeous..."