Gilreg stood in his small circular hut. The empty bed mats were a glaring reminder of the loss of his two cousins. His last remaining family. A pair of older goblins waited at the entrance. They were ancient with their backs bent. Gilreg held onto a cloth bracelet whose red colors had faded to brown in one hand and a small knife with a wooden handle in the other. They belonged to his cousins.

“You can keep one thing as a keepsake for each family member,” one of the old goblins hissed.

“The rest we must take for the tribe,” the other said.

Gilreg nodded and held up the bracelet and knife. The two older goblins shuffled in and began to collect all of his cousin’s items. Their clothes, their bed mats, blankets, and cooking items. Gems, coins, and all valuables were gathered. All the materials would be reused or broken down for crafting materials. The money was stored for the tribe’s wealth. The two old goblins were efficient, and in moments they were finished. With a silent nod, the two left the warrior alone.

“Gilreg?” Nulrok called in from the hut flap.

“I’m coming out,” Gilreg said, preferring the fresh air to inside the hut.

The warrior stepped out and embraced his friend. Standing next to Nulrok was Raine. She looked at Gilreg with her blue eyes but did not say anything. Gilreg extended his arm, and Raine came in to join their embrace.

“We are sorry for your loss,” Raine said finally. The Chieftain’s daughter was carrying her bow in her hand and had a quiver of arrows slung over her shoulder.

“Thank you,” Gilreg choked out.

“My father says he is very grateful for your leadership that we were able to bring back much treasure for the tribe,” the Chieftain’s daughter stated.

“Shimlock says that the Chalice is a more powerful artifact than we imagined,” Nulok added, speaking about his teacher, the tribe’s Shaman.

“We may be expecting an Envoy from the dungeon,” Raine said.

“An Envoy?” Gilreg asked, and Raine nodded in confirmation.

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This was astonishing news. The Wastelands was once a large empire. Many ruins are scattered around the landscape, and tribes of goblins and other monsters inhabit them. Orcs, Dragonspawn, and the like. Some time ago, it was discovered that there was a massive dungeon hidden inside the Wastelands. Little is known about the dungeon other than that powerful demons reside within. The demons united the disparate tribes and created an economy. Created places for commerce and trade. Each tribe was given artifacts to guard. Adventurers want the artifacts and will come into the Wastelands to find them. Adventurers often have expensive gear and treasure; when defeated, they provide a source of income for the tribes. The demons would collect a tax, and the commerce circle was completed.

With their loot, the Mudrock clan would be able to travel to the city of Haven, which sits deeper within the Wastelands, and meet with other tribes. There they can trade and use their coins to purchase weapons, food, and more crafting supplies. The demons would grant more powerful artifacts that would lure wealthier but more challenging adventurers.

“What will happen to us?” Gilreg asked.

Raine shrugged and said, “We may need to relocate to another tribe. Us three and Shaymus are the only remaining Guardians. The rest of the tribe are too old or young to battle adventurers.”

“Where is Shaymus?” Nulrok asked.

The three looked around, but their stealthy comrade was nowhere to be seen.

“I’m off to train my archery,” Raine said and departed. She had said more words than she was comfortable with saying already.

Nulrok and Gilreg stood in silence for a moment. The mage in training smiled and looked at Gilreg.

“Shimlock is teaching me how to use the wand,” he said.

“Oh, what does it do?”

“It aids my focus. With it, I can cast fire spells. At least, that is what Shimlock thinks. So far, I have been unable to channel fire magic. Ice magic comes naturally to me.”

“Can it enhance your ice spells?”

“Sadly, no. It is a fire focus.”

“It is about time that you can start doing damage instead of sprouting annoying walls,” Gilreg joked.

Nulrok laughed, and then he said he had to go and start his lessons. Gilreg was about to re-enter his hut when Zaploc called out to him. The old warrior was carrying a worn round wooden shield strapped over his shoulder.

“How’s your chest?” The grizzled warrior asked.

“Still hurts some.”

“You favor the axe and sword combination. I think it is time that you learn how to use a shield.”

“I know a little, but my problem is I don’t have one,” Gilreg said with a shrug.

The one-eyed warrior unslung the shield over his shoulder and handed it to Gilreg. It was an old shield rumored to have been in Zaploc’s family for generations.

“I can’t accept this.”

“You can, and you will. Now let’s go practice,” the old warrior said matter-of-factly.