Chapter 04 - Makaik Joins
Makaik ran, not because he was frightened of his former master waking, but because he wanted to prevent Goblins from thieving as much as possible. He ran to reach Danvers before the storm, and before all the goblins could get away.
He paced himself a path across rolling pasture land, passing cows that hadn’t gone to the barns. He ran beyond the reaped fields. Within minutes, the farmer’s land he’d just left was far behind him atop green hills where his former master lay unconscious.
Tall stone walls of Danvers loomed before him. He came to one of three roads leading into town and followed it, very nearly at a sprint.
His stamina was great, being young and energetic. He’d practiced a fluid stride at the monastery, learning from the masters who taught there.
Church bells rang in the night, warning townsfolk of the goblin threat. The entrance in the wall ahead was wide and tall. Three guards had been standing there, but when the bells rang, they all turned and went into the city.
This left the entrance unprotected. He was concerned that iron gates or wooded barricades would slam shut, but nothing at all did. Lord Hadwin’s guards had simply abandoned their posts when the bells rang.
He kept running, finally making it into the city. Chaos had ensued, and townspeople were still in a panic about being robbed. Two story homes and shops lined cobblestone streets, with alleyways between them still dark.
Shadows moved in his peripheral, and he stopped, also hearing noises in those shadows. The goblins were already escaping.
He calmed his lungs and focused, listening for the energies of those creatures around him. Their muted grunts and clicks brought their existence to life in his mind. The dragging of looted things in bags and the plapping of feet echoed up to him from below.
The goblins had already made it into the drainage pipes below their feet. Looking into the alleyway at the fat drain there, he saw nothing. They were gone unless he chased them to ponds and creeks where the sewage emptied.
There was no way he could fit into the drains, so there was only one way to catch them. If it was required, he would do it. He spun, returning to a sprint.
The squealing of an unknown language hit his ears. Multiple different voices. He stopped, realizing the sound came from a different alley. It was longer and darker than the first. He could feel the presence of three creatures there, and two guards, but could not see them.
One guard cried out, “for god’s sake, man!”
Armor hit the street, followed by the voice of the man in that armor. “Didn’t mean to!”
Little feet plapped towards him, and he prepared for goblins to appear. Three small green monsters burst from the shadows just ahead, already trying to plan their escape around him.
He did not wait. The powers of Ophioso flowed through him as he connected with the God of Snakes. This made his movements quick and deadly.
Lunging for the one nearest his left, his hand was around one of its arms in an instant. He twisted, breaking it with a loud snap. Turning, he flung the goblin to his side without even looking.
The one that had been to his right kept running. Its eyes grew large as one of its buddies flew towards it. There was nothing it could do to avoid the collision.
As the second goblin soared for the first, the third became his next target. His feet found solid footing on the stone and he crouched, watching the goblin run. Building more power, he called upon Ophioso’s help.
Springing into a forward front flip, his hands came down upon the goblin with fingers pressed down like fangs into the goblin’s little green head.
Energy pulsed through the green creature’s body, cooking it inside as if hit by lightning. This was a drain upon his energies that he hadn’t felt when he’d called Rhinoktep, and he knew it was not something he could do many times in a row.
The second goblin he’d thrown at the first finally collided, slamming both against the stone wall. They each wheezed out painfully from the impact.
His feet shifted over to the injured goblins with tiny strides, moving quickly side to side as he did. It wasn’t anything conscious he meant to do, but Ophiosos was working through him to dish out justice.
Standing over the two creatures, he brought both arms down like big fangs and punched into them with unbelievable force. Their already flat heads caved in, skulls and brains exploding, and little green arms and legs twitching as they died.
He stood, feeling a return to normality as the God’s energy left him.
The two guards approached him from out of the shadows, and looked down upon the dead goblins. They were stunned for a second, but he knew they’d seen him fighting.
“Thank you, lad,” one of the guards said, “didn’t realize you was a monk novice.”
The other asked, “where’s your father at? Is he a fighter too?”
He didn’t want to get into a deep conversation about Fuyuhiro, and decided another white lie might be fine.
He said, “other side of town.”
The guard nodded approvingly, “ah, that makes sense.”
“Told ya they wasn’t up to no good,” the other chided, “earning their keep like good citizens.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
The other said, “well be on your way then, and we won’t forget the good work, lad. We got it from here.”
Smiling, he said, “thank you.”
He did want more recognition for having helped, or at the very least he’d hoped that more people had seen him kill the goblins than just two guards. Still, it did feel like a good deed accomplished.
As he walked away, one guard suggested, “you should check on some of the older residents if you want to help more.”
It was actually a good idea. He turned and nodded. “Thank you.”
For a few short minutes he did plan on making sure that some of the less capable people he’d seen around town were okay. The more he wandered, the more he noticed that most residents had already found groups of others to talk with.
He watched and listened to many of them as he spent considerable time looking around town. The threat had mostly vanished, and very few goblins appeared to have been killed. The main way they had escaped was through the drains, so he checked plenty of those.
An old man startled him when he was in one of the alleyways. “What are you doing, boy?”
He turned to look at the townsman. The guy wore just a thin set of white garments and held a candle. It didn’t provide much light, but the man still squinted as if it helped him to see into the darkness.
“I was trying to find some of the goblins before they got away.”
“Ah,” the man said, “they went this way?”
He tried to answer as politely as possible. “Yes, sir. They used the drains to get away.”
The man nodded. “That’s cleverly deceptive. Lord Hadwin should know of this. I think some people are having an emergency council meeting at the church if you’re interested.”
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“I am,” he said, “thank you.”
The old man turned and shuffled away, “god only knows I can’t fight those little buggers. Might break a hip.”
He smiled at the elderly man’s candid joke.
What he’d just heard was interesting. If townsfolk gathered at the church to form a group of fighters, that was exactly where he wanted to go.
He turned to look down one cobblestone street, having to think upon where it went. Danvers was not a big city, but he’d been to several in the last few months and not a single one had been similar. That first street was the wrong way, he realized, leading to a row of shops and two competing taverns.
He turned again to look another way. Lightning cracked, and visible in the night was the outline of a church steeple.
His bare feet plapped along the stone, rainwater splashing to the sides with each step. People were out and about, huddled under eaves and porch roofs. Every few houses had groups trying to stay dry. They were all discussing their experiences dealing with the goblins.
He turned at the next street and saw the church. Several people were still making their way to the place of worship. A few stood outside the open double doors. He could hear two women inside talking but couldn’t quite make out what they said.
He asked, “are they still accepting volunteers?”
Four people at the doorway turned to face him when he spoke. They didn’t answer right away, appearing distracted at first.
“I think so,” one of them nodded.
The townspeople gathered there turned their focus back to whatever was happening inside.
He heard a woman midway through her sentence, saying “old adventures over and through The Slumbering Vales.”
That was a place he was not familiar with. At the monastery they had studied many maps, but most of them had been for present day Eashosh. Learning of many places further away had been reserved for older novices.
There was nothing else for him to decipher regarding the location. He’d never heard of the place, and knew not the context to begin with. He needed to get closer.
Shoving politely through the people at the doorway, he said, “apologies, apologies…”
They stepped out of his way, but didn’t seem happy about it. Looking in, it was like no other godly place he’d seen.
The Fifty Golden Gods of Gaia had large open spaces with no seating where disciples bowed to their knees on the ground. Typically in the center would be a thick column, reaching high to the ceiling, and carved in wood or sculpted from metal were depictions of all the gods.
This place was different. Twenty or more rows of long seats lined each side of a wide center aisle. They all faced forward to a stage and a pulpit, where a tall woman in leathers was speaking. A shorter woman stood just before her, covered in shiny armor.
All the townsfolk in the church watched intently as the two women studied each other.
The large woman in armor questioned, “can you fight, old woman?”
The tall woman smiled, then looked at the hammer the half-Dwarf held. “Can you, older woman?”
“HAH!” That one laughed loudly. “That’s funny.”
Whatever was funny about her question, he didn’t get it. A person didn’t need a weapon in order to fight.
He’d never seen a war hammer like the one that lady had. Plenty of monks used weapons, but their initial training at the monastery had always been completed with hands and feet.
The tall woman never argued against the half-Dwarf’s insulting laugh. It seemed to be in a somewhat good nature, or she took it that way anyhow.
A few seconds of silence passed between them, and he took the opportunity to approach. Walking down the aisle, he meant to make his own presence known. The two looked like great adventurers, and perhaps he could join them if they were the ones headed towards the goblin hideout.
Father Iverson almost immediately admonished him being in the church. “Disciples of the golden idols are not welcome here, child!”
He furrowed his brows at this, knowing that belief systems often caused adherents to strongly disavow others. The priestly man with convictions was wrong, but it was not his place to tell the man so. All the gods could exist in harmony, and he believed that they did. There was no place the gods could not be, so how was it a crime for him to be here?
“I am here to serve the city!” he said, “that is all.”
It was not a lie. He wished to do two things by being here. First, to get away from Danvers and his former master, and second, to kill as many goblins as possible so that they could not attack the city again. In this he could do an honorable thing.
The pot-bellied priestly man scurried towards him. “Where is your master?”
He stood his ground. Townsfolk appeared to be entertained by all this. He didn’t like the attention, but that was not his focus in the moment. Adrenaline still encouraged him, and knowing that these two older ladies planned to attack the goblin grotto, he saw this as an opportunity to accomplish his own goals as well.
“Sleeping,” he said.
It was not a lie. Or perhaps it might be. Was there a difference between sleeping and being knocked unconscious? He was not sure. It suddenly struck him that if he was not careful, he might end up speaking and behaving with deception as his former master once did.
The church official was getting closer to him. Surely the man intended to kick him out from the holy place. He was saved when the tall woman at the pulpit spoke.
“Father Iverson,” she said calmly.
The priest stopped before stepping around the dead goblin. The man looked up from the green creature’s body, and then back to the older woman in leathers. She stood tall and proud at the front of the church.
He had seen her before, but never dressed the way she was now. The old woman was like many he’d seen in other towns. She fit in well here, and even had an orange house cat he’d seen lounging on the window sills of her home.
“Let him speak,” the woman said, “for no others here except Hildebrin have had the courage to do so.”
This caused the townsfolk to murmur amongst themselves. Clearly, she was displeased by some lack of commitment, and wasn’t afraid to voice that feeling.
“Yes,” Father Iverson lowered his head. “Ednarite, perhaps you are correct. If he is here, then it must be of our god’s desire!”
The emphasis Father Iverson placed on their one god rather than the many gods he believed in was notable. There had been very few churches along his journey south with Fuyuhiro that actually helped them. Danvers had been unusually kind to them, but the church had not been.
Edna spoke to him, “is your name, Makaik, as I have heard around town?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said.
Being polite seemed to be his best strategy. She smiled at him. The short heavy-set woman at floor level turned to fully face him. That woman did not say anything, but studied him at length as Father Iverson remained quiet.
“And why is it,” Edna asked, “that you wish to help this city that has not shown you the kindness it could have?”
He thought about the question. It was a strange one, and seemed to be worded in a way that focused more upon the church man and the townsfolk than at him. This woman was making a point to her own people, and she was doing it very well. Voices whispered to one another, yet still no one else volunteered to join them.
He declared boldly, “I wish to help end these goblin attacks upon the city! It is simply the right thing to do.”
The big woman laughed, then stepped forward a few paces. Her shiny armor rattled with each heavy clank. “You have no weapon!”
This was very true, but of course he did not need a physical weapon to destroy enemies. Being respectful of the church he stood in, and not wishing to ruin any of the good graces afforded him, he decided to leave out the part about his gods channeling power through him.
“I don’t need one,” he said, “I can fight with my hands and feet!”
“HAH!” she laughed again, this time pointing at him. “You don’t look like a monk! You have hair! And you’re a kid! And the wrong type of robes!”
She was right about all those things, and he had no immediate answer. Being just a novice and a boy, he’d not become a named monk of any rank or god. He hadn’t shaved his head in months, and they’d shed their traditional robes upon banishment.
Hesitating, he decided to deflect rather than be directly honest with them.
“I killed three of them in the streets just now."
Hildebrin answered quickly. “I do not believe you. I have seen you with that drunk man. Your father? Beggars are often liars and con-artists. I will not fall prey to some silly scheme of yours, or be held responsible for your death in that goblin dungeon.”
Edna said nothing at first. The woman just watched. Hildebrin turned to her, as he also did not immediately answer.
The half-Dwarf woman asked, “are you actually considering this?”
Still, the tall woman did not answer right away. He did not fault them for questioning him. He was a stranger in this town, and one who appeared to be a homeless monk child with a drunk father. It was indeed suspicious.
That was when his eyes drifted to the bandage upon Edna’s left hand. She was wounded. With very little effort on his part, he could heal whatever cut or burn might be there.
Walking towards her, he said, “Ednarite?”
Hildebrin stepped between them. “Hold on, now.”
He stopped, surprised by the woman’s protective stance.
“I’m sorry,” he said, pointing to the woman’s bandaged hand, “but she is wounded.”
All three looked to Edna's hand. The tall woman acknowledged, saying, “small cut, no big deal.”
He nodded, “I can heal, as well as fight, for my…” he paused, nearly forgetting that he was within the holy place of a different church, “strength is rapidly increasing.”
The two women considered him. The taller one, Edna, seemed far more interested in his offer.
“You look of sound mind and body to me,” she said, “as so many others here are but refuse to help their own city!”
Hildebrin grinned at her passive aggressive words aimed at the townsfolk, but she still kept a suspicious eye on him.
Edna held her bandaged hand out and nodded for him to approach. The armored woman hesitantly stepped to the side.
A small healing of wounds was easy. He’d learned to mend minor cuts years ago. He reached forward slowly with both hands, careful not to seem threatening in the least, and cupped her bandages between his two hands.
Relaying in his mind the soothing words of his healing god, a small amount of energy flowed through him.
He could tell that his strength had significantly weakened from the strain of exerting so much new power so quickly. He hadn’t realized this when his adrenaline was flowing.
Edna’s smile grew larger, and after just a few seconds, she squeezed her hand, looking at the bandage in amazement.
Hildebrin said, “well? Are you healed or is he a liar?”
“I feel as though the wound is completely vanished!”
Edna quickly tore free the prickly thorn which held her bandages tight, and unraveled the wrappings. Once again squeezing her hand, free of any injuries, she looked upon the boy.
“He speaks truth.”
Hildebrin laughed, suddenly deciding he was worthy. “That settles things. You’re with us until you’re dead or we are. Who knows? I shall let you carry my larger bag.”
He gulped, surprised by this. The half-Dwarf woman had so many possessions for such a short trip that she required multiple bags? The tall kinder one in leathers looked to be fighting back an eye roll.
He asked the big woman, “why so much to bring with us?”
Hildebrin looked seriously at him and patted her belly. “I have significant dietary requirements, and I’m not about to die on an empty stomach.”