Reegar eats voraciously while Vorgahn and Aveline watch, amazed and disgusted, as he devours the bread and meat. Vorgahn pushed another mug, afraid the paladin might choke up. And Aveline raised her hand, trying to object or asked him to slow down. However, her disgust overwhelmed her, and she forced a smile.

After gulping down the mug, Reegar requested another. “So might telling me why you wanted to be my muse?”

“I always wanted to see a paladin in action. To describe it as the adventure goes. It sets the mood to write something spectacular.” She leaned closer at Reegar and he could smell her perfume. The smell of roses. “Who do you fight? Who do you defend? Am I fit to be defended? Or is there a certain criteria?”

Reegar let out a grunt. He placed his coin pouch on the table. “I don’t protect murderers, rapists, cannibals, cultists, slavers, necromancers, vampires, mummies, wererats, wereravens. Monster breeders. I also hunt and kill those creatures. And bandits.”

A smile appeared before Aveline. “I’m none of the above. I am but a storyteller whose talents wasted to entertain the dregs who called this place a good hanging spot.” She smiled at Reegar while Vorgahn stared at her.

Aveline began her tale, telling how she came into this town from Bloodport. Traveling through the league, stopping by inns and taverns. Singing songs and collecting stories. Reegar gave a glance to Vorgahn, who quietly sipped coffee, ignoring her.

She spoke about the incident. “It all started with a card game,” she said, trying to gauge Reegar’s attention. “The tavern was loud and lively and we are here, a round table. Me and several others.” She started drumming up the tension, her eyes locked on her only audience.

“She uses her bardic magic to cheat on the game,” Vorgahn spoke, leaving the bard speechless. She glanced at the dwarf, who was still sipping coffee. “You may continue,” he spoke. He took some enjoyment out of it.

“Long story short, our stumpy bartender decided my punishment was to entertain guests without pay for two weeks. But I get free ale, food and listen to all kinds of gossip. Adventurers love to talk like fishmonger’s wives.”

“It’s been six weeks.” Vorgahn spoke. “And she still refused to leave. Until now. It’s not like I’m complaining. Her acts do increase the number of people here.”

“And now you want to leave because of me?”

“This paladin is smart.”

Reegar can sense desperation hidden behind the cheerful word. But he couldn’t find the reason why. The bartender doesn’t seem to know either. It could be that she is bored. Or she wants something. People always wanted something. Reegar decides if he can find anything in town to find out what.

“I’ll return in the evening, and we’ll converse.” Reegar stood up.

The paladin exited the tavern, surveying the town. He remembers seeing a blacksmith near the south gate. And there’s a temple near him. Surrounding structures are predominantly wooden, with a few made of bricks. Beyond the walls, one can see the Nagannum Forest.

The townsfolk engage in their occupations, while adventurers wander around. He desired to go shopping, but he recalled the scarcity of coins in his possession.

He made his way towards the nearby small temple. With timber beams and posts serving as borders, the small temple takes on the appearance of a circular garden.

Flowers encircle the temple, with different types and colors act as layers with wooden benches and small pavement placed between them. A wooden statue stands in the temple’s center. Petite female statue with wheat in left hand and chicken in right.

Dhavani, The Goddess of Agriculture. Goddess of Bountiful Harvest. The Green Mother.

It’s easy to see why her temple is here. Farmers, hunters, ranchers and those who worked the lands prayed to her. Several townsfolk are here at the temple, sitting at the benches, offering prayers for their crops and animals.

A circular wooden building with a roof of grasses and flowers is located behind the temple. Probably where the quarters and office are located.

He noticed a few people, probably acolytes, tending the garden temple. Their dresses are of the earthly colors. One of them approached the group and greeted him. She has the build of a farmer, leaned and toned. Her skin bears a tan, as if she has been working in a field. “Welcome traveler. My name is Claire Benoit, priestess of this humble temple.” She noticed the obsidian amulet on Reegar’s neck. “A Scale Guardian. Are you here to find respite?”

“You provide food and shelter?”

“To those who need it.”

Reegar cursed under his breath. If he knew there’s free food here, he would go here. But the bun was delicious. He observed the serene ambiance of this location. It’s not his preference, and the temptation to step into a smelly, crowded inn wins in the end. Now he is stuck doing Vorgahn’s bidding.

He noticed an acolyte nearby trimming the flowers. She has a blank expression, neither happy nor sad. She carefully trimmed the flower and moved to the next, showing no emotion.

“That is Sara. An adventurer discovered her in the forest. Injured, they took her here to heal. And we did what we could.” Claire said, stroking Sara’s hair.

There is no trace of her injury. Her movement, lacking urgency or character, does not impair her. “She has physically healed. But her mind…” Claire’s voice ended in a whisper. It troubled her.

“Is it magical?”

She shook her head in response. Reegar bows to her as a sign of respect and gratitude for her. Few bear the burden of looking after ex-adventurers.

“There’s many like her around here?”

Claire nodded. “Lately it’s getting worse. Fewer adventurers returned, unaccounted for. Two days ago, the adventurer we rescued spoke of attacks by a Stompstag.”

Stompstag. Bizarre creatures, with a stag’s head, antlers, boar-like tusks, and a gorilla’s body. Despite that, they are averse to battle, preferring hunting for fish. Or eat berries.

“They disturb the nest?” Reegar asks.

“The Stompstag attacks their camp.”

That’s strange. With this close to winter, Stompstags are supposed to be hibernating. Perhaps it didn’t hibernate and had to hunt instead.

“Are you familiar with the bard at the inn?”

Claire nodded. “Aveline I believe. You saw her performance?” she asked. Reegar nodded, and she looked toward the inn. “Her skill with the lute is mesmerizing and she is blessed with a beautiful voice.” She looked at the paladin and she chuckled. “It seems she caught another with her charm.”

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

“Anything else you can tell about her?”

Claire gave him a sly smile. “I didn’t know paladins dig up dirt on their crush.” Before Reegar could retort, she shook her head. “No. She just wound up here one day and decided to make trouble for old Vorghan. And you know the rest. She plays at the inn, interact with people.” she explained. “Speaking of interaction, there’s a shrine to the Everwyrm here. I can direct you to it.”

Claire directed him to a shrine of Hilvendur near the northern gate. According to her, the gate is the main path to Nagannum Forest. Following the instructions, Reegar found the shrine. It is a standing stone. If he has to guess, it’s around fourteen feet high, five feet wide. Carved upon the stone is a drawing of a dragon’s head, the symbol of Hilvendur, The Dragon God of Protection and Protectors.

Adventurers place various offerings from arrow tips to small wooden ornaments in the shape of shields by the stone.

The paladin kneels before the stone, his hands clasped together. He closed his eyes and began his prayer. As he continues his prayer, he can feel the coldness of stones around him. The air is stale and has a metallic taste to it.

Upon opening his eyes, he’s in a stone hallway. Violet glyphs ran along the walls, and from a distance, he saw black metallic coffins nailed to the wall. Copper tubes spread out from the coffins. Before he could comprehend the unfamiliar surroundings, he finds himself back at the monolith. It seems the dragon god answered his prayer and gave him a new task.

“Shit.” he grumbled and an arrow from the offering flies and knicks on head.

All he desires is a cozy spot to snuggle and dine throughout the upcoming winter. But a vision from the Everwyrm isn’t one to disregard. Slowly, he stood up and looked at the sky above. A pleasant view. Peaceful view. From the sky, snow fell. Winter is here.

I hate trekking in the snow.

It seems he should start questioning the townsfolk about Nagannum. He can’t just ask random townsfolk. Results would be questionable. Adventurers are an excellent source of information. They usually know or heard something. And they gossip like fishwives.

Adventurers usually visit four places in a town. The blacksmith, the magic shop, the inn, and the temple. He has already been to the temple, so he can cross that. He can visit the inn later and question the bard. That leaves the blacksmith and the magic shop. The blacksmith stands across town. Maybe the magic shop is nearer.

He asks several villagers nearby and they say the same two things. Nagannum is more dangerous nowadays. A suspicious little lizard runs the magic shop. A kobold.

The magic shop is near the town center, a regular-looking shop. The sign reads Vig’s Emporium. He entered the shop and saw a kobold open a dubious purple colored potion to an old man. Reegar caught the scent of charcoal, mustard, and old shoes coming from the bottle. The elderly man sipped, nearly vomited, but the kobold held him, forcing him to finish. The elderly man shivers before he gasps and smiles. He paid the kobold and ran out of the shop, happily.

Reegar approached the counter, and the kobold looked at him. The kobold’s scales are red. He wore a red and purple robe that softly catches the light, showing its luster. It’s uncommon to witness a kobold donning silk. With a black slit, the kobold’s eyes are a striking yellow color. It has a pair of black horns. The right horn has an iron ring on it. The iron band has a logo carved into it. A mountain split by a wizard’s staff.

The symbol of Stormpoint Academy.

The shop looks like a typical magic shop. Behind the counter, the shopkeeper spruces potions on the shelves while displaying staves and wands on the wall. The display stands show accessories like rings and bracelets. The cabinets hold spell scrolls.

“Welcome paladin. I am Vig, a humble kobold and the owner of this fine establishment. May you enlighten me of what you seek?”

The paladin almost laughed. A humble kobold. That is new. “I want to ask about Nagannum.” Reegar asked while browsing the scrolls. They separated the scrolls into two sections. Combat and daily lives. Flame ray spell, Magic barrage spell, creating hot coffee spell, cleaning clothes with the scent of lavender spell. There are few for gardening.

The kobold is sitting, leg crossed on the counter while puffing on a wooden pipe. With his finger, he lift a gray cloak and pulled it near him. “It’s already snowing. This cloak has fire glyphs infused in it, so it can keep you warm when you go to Nagannum.”

“If it’s over two rugums, I don’t want it.”

“Being a miser is the surest path to death.” Vig answered and took another puff. “You can’t come to a shop and ask for information without purchase, son.”

Reegar grunted and placed a spell scroll on the table. It’s a spell to create hot cocoa. The components needed are a steel mug and water. He handed Vig four silver coins, and the kobold grinned.

“I heard stories about people sighting monsters that live in the deepest region of the forest near the edge.”

“Stompstags?”

“Among others. The ruins there are a major attraction for adventurers. Dungeons filled with treasures. In golds and magic.” His eyes locked on the paladin as he spoke, trying to gauge Reegar’s interest. Reegar turned to him, and Vig smile. Adventurers are easy to fish out. Dangle the word gold and magic and they are hooked.

“What kind of ruins have smooth surface walls with glyphs on them?”

Vig stood up on the counter as soon as he heard that. “You’ve entered the forest? Have you seen it? Where?”

Reegar shook his head. “I receive a vision. Or premonition.”

Vig squinted his eyes at Reegar’s answer. He’s a paladin of Hilvendur, so he doubts he is lying. If the dragon god shows him that dungeon, that means one thing. There is trouble brewing on the horizon.

Before Vig could press for more answers, an explosion rocked the town. Catching everyone by surprise. Rushing out of the store, Vig and Reegar witnessed a fire-engulfed building. From the forest, a growling sound emerged as three flaming rocks streaked across the snowy sky towards the town.

The flaming rocks hit several buildings, homes, shops, and one hit directly at the tavern. Flashes of Aveline’s face streaked before Reegar and he ran towards the tavern, with Vig hurried behind him.

The townsfolk ran around the street looking for shelter. Reegar pushed through them as the town bell rang. Flames engulfed the tavern as both of them arrived. The upper floors have collapsed, blocking the door and windows. Screams and cries for help echo from the wreckage. Inhaling deeply, Reegar channeled his divine powers into his throat and lungs. With a mighty roar, he caused the debris to scatter with a resounding boom.

Running into the flames, he saved the first person he saw, tossing him out through the door. He moved in deeper, but the heavy smoke caught him by surprise, blowing into his face and causing him to stumble and cough. His sight is so limited that he can only perceive the color red.

With a quick sprint, Vig moved past him and manipulated the hot smoke with his hands, gathering it before sending it up into the sky, where it dissipated.

With the smoke gone, Reegar and Vig moves in deeper, carrying the injured patrons out.

He reached the bartender’s table and found both Aveline, Vorgahn, and the cat curling behind. Pulling them both up, Reegar ran. Vig rushed to the kitchen, taking the cook and two other survivors with him.

The survivors lie on the ground as the sound of the town bell continues to toil in the background. They watched as the inn collapsed and the flame burned through.

“What happened?” the sound of Vorghann voiced cracks as tears fell from his eyes. His lifework is nothing more than ashes. The brewing, food, the service. Everything is gone. He inquired again, then turned to his savior. Reegar shook his head.

Aveline lies on the ground looking at the sky, reddened by flame. The snow continues to fall, blanketing the land white. She looked at Reegar. Though unseen, she could still perceive the gaze. A powerful anger simmering within.

She raised her arms and looked at her fingers.All ten of them, still there. She wriggles them, trying to feel them. A town is attacked and someone capable is here. What a bard was supposed to do but to capitalize it. A good story, a good ending. A good payment. Aveline looked at the destruction around her and she took a deep breath. She pulled out a book from her bag and began writing. She could monetize this tragedy, turning it into a song. Or a poem.

Aveline stood up and stood next to Reegar and Vig. She saw this kobold before. He bought several kegs of mead from Vorgahn once. Vig they called him.

What is his role here? A sidekick for the hero? A comic relief? That sounds good. A clumsy comic relief sidekick who can use magic to support the main character and me, the chronicler. I could edit a few things out. Make him a bit more cute. I could sell plushies of his likeness.

Vig stared at Aveline who kept nodding to herself, wondering what’s with her.

The trio walked towards the gate with Reegar on the lead. The kobold stretched his arms and fingers before lighting up his pipe. Aveline is humming happily as she jotted down the ideas in her head, making Vig suspicious of her mental state.

Several other adventurers and guards were already at the gate, where they could hear shouting. And one word kept repeating.

Goblins.