Chapter 02 - Hildebrin

Hildebrin approached the church.

Townsfolk were gathering there. It only made sense to her that the people intended to confront Lord Hadwin or someone else of authority.

She was stout and angry. The shiny thick armor on her half-Dwarven body would frighten the others, and that was fine. Full humans were mostly weak anyway.

It was still dark out. She knew the sun would not be rising brightly, for the storm had finally swept into their little town. A cool wind from southern seas came in with it, cold and full of anger, just like her. Tumultuous clouds tumbled forward in the night sky, cracking visible with each forked tongue of lightning.

Hesitant townsfolk, all trying to reach the same gathering council, gave her wide space. They paused in the light rain, concerned by the half-Dwarf woman they’d never seen in the regal suit.

Her thick frame clanked heavy metal boot against the cobblestone street, blending with the rumbling of thunder. Layers of solid armor surrounded her, grinding and clinking with each angry stride to the church.

The insignia of her kingdom was boldly emblazoned upon her chest plate, and also upon her hammer. The outline of a jagged mountain peak sat within a moon. No one in these lands knew that her full name, lineage, rank, and duty, could all be read even within that. The armor was unique to her.

The Shiny Guardset of Mountaincrag Deep had been a real pain to put on. It was tight in all the wrong places, leather fastenings having shrunk over the years. It hadn’t helped that she’d become accustomed to an inactive lifestyle and gained a little weight.

At eighty-seven years, she was only middle-aged for a half-Dwarf, but she had to admit she hadn’t kept up with her physical strength. Taking care of her ill sister had demanded too much time. They’d been all each other had since their banishing from the Dwarven mountain city of Koh’Lodur. She’d once had dreams of being married and becoming a mother and grandmother as she grew older, but all that had changed when the illegitimate king rose to power.

None of that mattered now. Maggie was gone.

Thoughts of avenging her sister made her ignore chafing in the thighs, and in the upper arms, where her body had grown thicker. She’d been of bitter temperament and short patience for a long time. Everyone in this town already knew that. She knew they didn’t care for her, but they never would have anyway. They would now see her truly angry.

She gripped in her left hand the neck of a dead goblin. The lifeless body shook limp with each of her hard steps, swinging as if the creature was no more than a green play-doll in rags. The thing had been Maggie’s final undoing, her sister’s frail mind and body unable to handle a single goblin ransacking their home. This nasty little thing with legs had frightened Magdelina’s already weakened state of being, and caused her to die of a heart attack.

Danvers had many problems. At first it was the lack of regular merchants from Baytown or Windswept Gorge. The idiots in charge had no idea how to manage a burgeoning little realm. Finding the right foods to keep her dying sister healthy the last few years had been difficult.

Then came the goblin attacks. They’d been increasing, both in frequency and in their swarming numbers. She’d fought and killed thousands of goblins in Mountaincrag Deep. If these treasure hoarders from Keggma’s Grotto were anything like the ones from her homeland, they multiplied faster than rabbits.

Now, the humans living in Danvers would have to deal with her. That was their problem. If Lord Hadwin wasn’t going to demote or kill his incompetent city guardsmen, then she would gladly do that task on his behalf before venturing towards the grotto.

She wasn’t planning on killing goblins to help them. She didn’t care about most of the humans in this little town. What she wanted was for someone to accept the blame for her sister’s death.

She had nothing left in this world, and dying deep underground fighting creatures of the dark sounded good to her right then. It was a shame that Magdelina had become so sickly before they could go out in a blaze of glory together. It would have been nice battling next to her side.

In her right hand she carried a hammer well-suited for combat. One side was thick, the heavy flat surface wider than her own head and ten times the weight of it. Made rough by heavy usage years ago, it could flatten the skulls of ten million goblins. The other side of her weapon had a round spike, slightly curved, and used to tear, pry, and gash when smashing wasn’t appropriate.

She meant to use it first on any guard or townsfolk that stood in her way of putting a new fear into people. They’d done nothing to prevent all the many goblin attacks. Now her sister was dead because of it.

After giving the residents at this emergency council a piece of her mind, she meant to walk away into the night towards Keggma’s Grotto. She would slay goblins until they were completely eradicated, or until she was killed by their overwhelming numbers.

Either result was acceptable.

Reaching the large double doors of the modest church, she shoved them open and burst through the entryway. Townsfolk watched her in stunned concern. She didn’t care.

Her rain-splattered armor added pools of water to already wet stone floors. At least a hundred heads turned to her, all eyes focused on the sudden interruption. Good. The only true human trait about her was that she had no facial hair. Otherwise the others all knew she was an angry half-Dwarven woman.

Before she realized who stood speaking at the front altar of the church, she tossed the dead goblin forward. The green creature plopped lifeless to the stone between two dozen pews, and the nearby citizens down those long wooden benches reacted by backing away from it.

They gasped and murmured to one another about the heathen act. They were weak. The creature was dead. So what if she’d defiled a holy place with the goblin’s broken body?

Her voice boomed through the vaulted space, and she knew it. If they were not afraid of her before, they soon would be.

“GOBLINS!!!” she yelled harshly, “why are there so many damn goblins in Danvers? I demand to know why this is allowed to happen!”

All the talking hushed. Heads turned with muted words and plenty of confusion regarding her question. It was clear that some of the people agreed with her. While her ears awaited an answer, her eyes tracked from all the various familiar residents to the priest’s platform near the head of the church.

The old cat lady stood where Father Iverson typically droned at length regarding holy matters she did not believe. Human faiths had always eluded her understanding, yet she had sometimes attended a service or two out of curiosity.

Edna was the woman who stood there. Eyes drawn to the tall, thin woman who lived in the cottage townhouse, and owned the orange house cat, there was a strange look upon her this day. Edna had always been unusually kind of spirit and far too nurturing, at least in comparison to many of the other townsfolk.

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On the woman’s body now was a set of adventurers leathers. Some small elements of decorative metal popped strategically upon the shoulders, forearms, and legs, the way an esteemed warrior of the bow, or of throwing weapons might wear. The outfit was rather striking. The woman’s face, typically pleasant and smiling, was not one of kindness either. She appeared serious and practical, like someone who could survive in the wild.

Edna stood at the front of the church, not as an old caring cat lady, but tall and fierce. The woman looked just as angry as she was feeling inside her, and that caused her to hesitate slightly. This was an interesting development. Still, she would not let a kind old human distract her from releasing pent up anger.

No one had answered her as she stood there dramatically huffing, having become distracted by Edna.

“Does not one person here speak on behalf of Lord Hadwin?” she asked, “or his incompetent guardsmen?”

Still, there were no immediate answers. It was becoming apparent that this might not be a meeting involving the authorities. The only people present were tired, frightened shopkeeps, tinkerers, artisans, children, and the retired. She'd…most likely interrupted a different type of meeting than the one she expected.

Father Iverson, a small man of pot-belly proportions, stepped into the main aisle from down one of the front pews. He looked sheepishly towards her. The dead goblin was closer to him than it was to her, and she saw him noticeably shudder at the sight of that green body.

The priestly man said, “when the time is appropriate, I can notify Lord Hadwin of your discontent-”

She answered quickly, cutting him off, “that’s not good enough!”

He somehow made himself smaller, and that was saying something, since most of these people were much taller than she was.

“My sister Magdelina died this night because of those goblins!” she pointed, continuing, “and every citizen of this town knows Lord Hadwin could have prevented this! I want answers!”

The humans mostly agreed with her. Many remained quiet, their voices hushed. A few called out in support of her statement. They did want answers, they just weren’t as vocal and urgent about getting them.

“That’s…most unfortunate…about Magdelina,” Father Iverson squeaked out between stutters. “But we can’t go banging on the keep’s doors this early, Hildebrin. They’ll respond as soon as they-”

“WEAK FOOLS!”

Her loud statement caused more townsfolk to back further from her, despite no one being close to begin with. They were truly scared. Good. It proved to her that not a single one of them had the courage to stand with her against dishonorable leadership, or even some of the weakest of enemies like goblins.

She would have to take this quest upon herself and-

“Hildebrin,” Edna said calmly.

Her attention was immediately drawn back to the woman beyond Father Iverson. Edna stood tall there, looking as though something important was about to be spoken. She would let this happen out of respect for all the times that kind smile had unexpectedly warmed her heart. Very few others in Danvers had treated her as nicely.

“I requested this meeting,” the lady said. “We know that Lord Hadwin is not a reliable leader. The only way to end this ever-increasing goblin chaos is for us to take matters into our own hands.”

She grinned for a half-second, but didn’t let the feeling remain. Finally, someone was talking sense around here.

Agreeing with the woman didn’t make her anger flood away instantly. Lord Hadwin’s incompetency needed to be addressed. His fiefdom depended on the safety and security of Danvers residents, so ignoring problems like this would eventually doom them all.

She still needed answers. “So what are you doing about it?”

Edna smiled. “Just before you entered, I called upon anyone who might want to join me on a trip to Keggma’s Grotto, where I intend to kill as many goblins as possible.”

She didn’t know how to respond in that instant. Was this woman serious? Of course that was exactly what she wanted herself. But with Edna? Who was she? The woman would die easily. Putting on a suit of fancy leathers didn’t make someone a warrior.

There was also still the unanswered question of Lord Hadwin’s much needed judgment. Someone needed to confront the ignorant man regarding his inability to protect his small realm.

“I suspect that should we survive,” Edna said, “there will be plenty of time to do something about the halfwit in charge. Might you be interested in killing goblins with me until then?”

Everything the woman said made sense. Edna spoke and stood unlike any previous time she’d ever talked with the woman. In her anger, she hadn’t considered that wiping the goblins from existence first would solve a major problem, would please her angry heart, and then would also give her the townsfolk’s support. When she returned to properly bury her sister, she could fix the lousy security around here.

More convincing was necessary, but it was a start.

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean I go with you.”

Stomping forward, she caused more anxiety among the townsfolk. She walked in a direct line for Father Iverson, and he moved quickly out of the way. She had no intentions of hurting the religious man, but he didn’t need to know that.

She wanted to better study the tall woman in fighting leathers. Edna had never once seemed the type of individual to be capable of such a thing as wiping dungeon monsters from existence. Allowing her to look in silence, the tall thin woman’s outfit was well-worn long ago, roughed along the edges and nicked by use, though it had been very well cared for.

Edna said nothing, seeming to understand exactly what she was doing. It was common for two unknown adventurers to study one another before choosing whether or not to team up for a quest.

Looking upon the dark leathers, there was little to go on. No insignia or design were displayed prominently, other than basic decorative threading that did not reveal anything familiar. Many thin layers provided a flexible design common to rangers and such, otherwise she had no idea.

Coming to the conclusion that she could test the woman, at least to start with, an insult might stoke more details. “I will not burden myself with the company of a helpless old cat lady dressed in a costume. You’ll die at the grotto. I suspect this will happen upon the first encounter.”

Edna smiled back instead of responding angrily. The woman’s eyes had only looked upon her armor for the briefest of seconds, yet Edna had appeared to comprehend deep meaning.

Standing in front of the woman with a giant hammer also did not scare her. This individual had much experience, and that was odd since she’d known the woman had lived in Danvers a very long time.

This was not an expected answer to her rudeness, although it did give credence to her new assessment the woman was more than some retired trader of goods. Some people were very difficult to read, hiding a past they wanted no one to know, and this human in the leathers was one of them.

“Who are you?” she asked bluntly, even before Edna could respond to the original question.

Patience had never been easy for her. If none of this was going to elicit a response from Lord Hadwin or any of his jesters, then she best go ahead and be on her way to the goblin grotto. The woman needed to answer quickly, otherwise she was wasting time here.

“I am a Blade Mistress,” Edna said, “of the highest order. Many years have gone by since those days, but I am confident I can handle my own even now. What say you, Defender Vanguard, Esteemed, bloodline of Koh’Lodur? Do you still have within you the honor of your true king?”

This immediately shocked her. “What?”

She stepped back from the tall woman in leathers, narrowing her eyes. She’d never heard of blade mistresses, but the fact Edna knew of her exact duty to the throne of Koh’Lodur was enough. Only those who were friends of her Dwarven homeland knew all the subtle differences within the insignia upon Koh’Lodur armor and weapons, and they'd never had such a conversation.

Dozens of barely perceptible variations existed within their recognizable emblem. Even fewer could possibly have learned those details from study alone, let alone this woman who lived on another continent in a small town.

Her grip upon the handle of her hammer tightened. She let out a long, thoughtful breath. “How do you know this?”

Edna looked her directly in the eyes. The woman was grave when she spoke her next words. “Come with me on this quest, Esteemed Hildebrin Hammerfeet, and I’ll recount to you all my old adventures as a young woman over and through The Slumbering Vales.”

She had not heard those words uttered by anyone other than her sister in so long. Who was this woman that knew of her homelands? How did she have intimate knowledge of Dwarven insignia? When had she learned to read Dwarven? What did she know of honor? There were so many things she could have asked.

More important than any of those questions, she felt respected for the first time in ages. No one had recognized her. No one knew of the sacrifices her and Maggie had both made as young half-Dwarven women in the service of Koh’Lodur. Becoming an Esteemed Defender Vanguard was difficult even for full Dwarven blood. They had both accomplished this young, only to be stripped of their titles and banished when the illegitimate king took Koh’Lodur’s throne.

This tall lady in leathers represented integrity and honor. It was evident in the way respect was given. Edna somehow knew far more than she’d ever expected, and that had her completely convinced this woman was the real deal.

She would need to hear tales of her homeland once the reality of her sister’s death finally struck her. She would need the comfort of another person who knew of The Slumbering Vales.

Having another warrior also meant that more goblins would die. She would not immediately admit most of that, of course, but those were her thoughts.

“Can you fight, old woman?”

Edna smiled again, then looked at the hammer. “Can you, older woman?”

“HAH!” she laughed loudly. “That’s funny.”