“May you always remind me freedom is not earned or given.” Coradiel’s prayers reached a fevered pitch as his hand blurred. “And may I inspire others to acts of kindness and beauty through my body, the temple of Arshea…!”
Arlo stared at Coradiel as the half-elf lifted from the bed. Pearlescent beads shot through the air, and the catfolk shook his head.
“People died here not more than a day ago,” he scolded. “How can you jack off knowing-”
“Arlo…” Coradiel panted heavily, gulping for air. “Arlo, devotion to a deity isn’t something you just neglect. We’re all going to die someday. And when that day comes, I intend for Pharasma to know just where my afterlife should be spent.”
A thrill shot through Arlo at the name. Pharasma. Even thinking about the name seemed like a bad idea… but why? What kind of deity could invoke that fear in anyone? He was an atheist — gods didn’t exist. Or, if they did, they certainly didn’t deserve to be worshipped blindly.
The god of death. Of judgement. Arlo didn’t remember being judged. He had escaped somehow. And he doubted any deity of death would be happy with him.
Arlo would have to watch his back around her clergy.
“In any case, it’s time to start our watch again,” Coradiel said. “You still plan on exploring the Feedbag?”
“Call it intuition,” Arlo grunted, pulling on his boots. “But I’m pretty sure something’s going down there.”
A doorbell chimed through the house. Arlo buckled his boots before suddenly realising-
“Shit!”
Leaping to his feet, the catfolk darted through the house.
“Please don’t be Vhiski please don’t be Vhiski-”
An elderly halfling stood on the other end of the door, worry-lines creasing her face. Arlo’s heart plummeted — no good news ever came from a face like that.
“Arlo Silverpaw? I need your help. Ameiko needs your help,” the halfling amended quickly. “She’s gone missing.”
“Ameiko’s missing?” Coradiel demanded from behind the catfolk.
“Yes, my lord,” the halfing — Bethana, if Arlo remembered correctly — said. “I went to wake her this morning, but her room was empty. I only found this note.”
Arlo took the paper. He frowned at the lettering on the page.
“This is Japanese,” he said. “Or something close to it. I can’t read it.”
“I believe it’s Minkaian, sir,” Bethana replied.
“I have a scroll that can translate-”
“Ameiko’s been teaching me some of the language, sir. Perhaps I could translate for you?” Bethana interrupted before Arlo could turn away.
“That would be helpful.”
Taking the letter back, Bethana stared at the kanji.
“Dear sister…” She started slowly, picking her way through the words. “I hope this letter finds you well, and with some free time on your hand, because we have a problem, and it has to do with Father. It seems he has something to do with the recent goblin troubles the town’s been having.”
“Lonjiku?” Arlo glanced at Coradiel. The paladin shrugged.
“He’s a violent person, but I don’t think he’s murderous. Maybe it was accidental involvement. But we should look into him, just to make sure.”
Bethana cleared her throat quietly, waiting for them to finish before continuing.
“It continues to say something about not wanting to involve the authorities because Lonjiku would just get away free with the pull he has in town.” She cleared her throat again, before reading haltingly, “If you meet me at… the glass place? Tonight at midnight, maybe we can find a way to ensure Father gets the punishment he deserves for his role.”
“The Glassworks,” Arlo provided, looking over at Coradiel. “It’s the Kaijitsus’ main business in town, similar to how the Scarnettis own most if not all the sawmills.”
“It’s signed with Tsuto’s name,” Bethana concluded, handing the paper back to Arlo. The catfolk folded it carefully before slipping it into a pocket. “I don’t think any good could come of this meeting. Could you go check on Ameiko? She should have been back long before now; it’s nearly eight bells!”
“Yeah, we’ll look for her,” Arlo promised. “Just give us a minute to gather our gear. You go take care of the Rusty Dragon. Make sure there’s something warm cooking.”
“Of course, sir.”
Bowing, Bethana scurried back outside. Arlo closed the door behind her and groaned.
“So much for an easy morning.”
After over a week in this strange new world, Arlo thought he’d gotten his act together. But there was always something throwing him for a loop.
Today, it was a lock.
“I don’t suppose a paladin knows how to pick locks,” he said hopefully, staring at the heavy door blocking entrance to the massive glass factory.
Already a small crowd was forming around them, staring at the two heroes who were themselves staring at the Glassworks. Arlo ignored them as best as he could, but at some point, they’d have to be dealt with.
He ignored Coradiel’s pointed stare too.
“Surely a great and powerful wizard would have a spell to open a door,” the paladin said.
“Of course I do,” Arlo said confidently. “But you’ll have to drive the crowd away first. Trade secret.”
Rolling his eyes, Coradiel turned toward the gawking crowd.
“Excuse me, this is the site of an investigation under the orders of Sheriff Belor Hemlock,” he called. “I must insist that everyone return to your daily business.”
“What are you doing breaking into the Glassworks!?” Someone yelled.
“That is for Sheriff Belor to know,” Coradiel replied calmly. “Please, go back to your own business, and let us work.”
Slowly, the crowd filtered away, until the last of the gawkers finally gave up and headed home. Thus free, Arlo adjusted the grip on his musket.
“I call this spell ‘Knock’.” he said with a leer.
Ramming the butt of his musket into the door, Arlo’s grin turned to a grimace as vibrations rattled his arms.
“What are you doing?!” Coradiel hissed.
“We got to get in somehow,” Arlo replied, before slamming the door again.
On the third blow, the lock gave way. The door flew open, bouncing off the far wall with a loud bang. Arlo winced at the noise, immediately flipping the musket around to load it. There was no way that wasn’t heard by whoever was working the furnaces. If they were belligerent — and of course they would be — he needed to be prepared.
“You ready?” he asked, glancing at Coradiel.
“I better be,” the paladin groused, unsheathing his sword. “How are we going to explain this damage to Lonjiku?”
“I’ll drop him twenty gold to repair the door,” Arlo said. “For that price, he can have it inlaid with gold.”
Pushing into the building, Arlo swept the room. Shelves of fine glass — bowls, platters, cups — lined the wall behind a counter, offering a good example of the workmanship offered by the factory. Two doors sat beyond the shelves, and Arlo was quick to batter both down.
One led to a long hall. The other brought the two to a shorter passage that cut off after only a few feet. The roar of the furnace filled the air, and a heat wafted, making Arlo sweat as he retreated back to the counter.
“Someone’s using this place,” Coradiel said.
“Obviously.”
“Doors locked, no guards. No one to tell us to get out. I don’t like this.”
“And I do? That hall has two doors to the furnace floor. I can’t guard both.”
“What do you think is going to attack us here?” Coradiel demanded.
Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.
Arlo ignored him. Double-checking his load, the amurrun crept into the longer hall. He pointed to the door closest to them.
“You get to open this one,” the catfolk said, keeping his musket aimed down the hall.
Coradiel sighed, but moved to the door. Pushing it open, the paladin poked his head into the room beyond.
“Hello- oh shit!”
He slammed the door shut.
“Goblins?”
“Goblins.”
Raucous chatters and snarls broke through the furnace’s rumble. Arlo pointed the paladin back to the door, taking up position along the hall. Using the display room as cover, the catfolk levelled his gun.
“[Mage Bullet: Ice]. [Abundant Ammunition]. [Mage Armour].”
By the time his abilities were all cast, the first goblin rounded the corner.
CRACK!
It dropped with a surprised grunt. Arlo reloaded instantly, levelling his musket once more. But no more goblins rounded the corner. He could hear desperate chattering that, even with his point in Goblin, he couldn’t quite make out.
“CHARGE!”
That, he understood.
CRACK!
Another goblin dropped. Arlo reloaded frantically, but this time, a group of eight goblins were halfway to him before he could squeeze out another shot.
CRACK!
His next bullet hissed past the first rows of goblins, blasting into an archer’s head.
“Coradiel! Switch!” Arlo barked.
He stepped around the paladin, blocking the nearest door with his body. The clang of steel on steel rang over the furnace, but Arlo felt a bit more confident about this scenario — the hall was barely ten feet wide, not even wide enough for three goblins at a time. Coradiel could hold them off easily.
He hoped.
Still, just to make sure…
“[Grease].”
Arlo felt his mana dip dangerously as a puddle appeared just in front of Coradiel. Several goblins slipped, leaving the paladin easy strikes at their exposed backs. For his own part, Arlo aimed carefully. Another crack dropped the last archer before they could get more than a distracted shot off. The catfolk breathed easier as the thrown bottle shattered against a wall behind him.
“It’s the longshank what killed everyone!” A goblin screamed, pointing at Arlo’s musket. “RUN!”
Grinning ferally, Arlo reloaded. They only needed one goblin alive to track.
CRACK!
And another one bit the dust.
Arlo stalked the last goblin. He knew right where it was, but not where it was going. A hand held Coradiel back — they needed to keep this one alive for now. It would lead them right to Ameiko, or Tsuto. At the very least, it would take them to someone who would explain why there were goblins in a respectable place of employment.
“For the record, we think the workers who lived here are dead, right?” Arlo asked, pausing at a flight of stairs.
Coradiel shuddered at the thought. But… “Yeah, most likely.”
“And Lonjiku? Set up probably by Tsuto, right?”
“I don’t know where you’d get that from,” Coradiel denied.
Arlo shrugged off an explanation. “[Light].”
An orb of orange light appeared on the stock of his musket, offering a low glow around them. The cotfolk’s shadow blocked much of it in front of them, but at least it kept his eyes at least somewhat used to the dark. Lifting his arm, he let a faint glow light up the stairs ahead of them.
“But we are sure there’s an ambush at the end of these stairs,” he pointed out.
“Most likely. First person to step on them gets shot.” Coradiel shrugged.
“[Mage Armour].” A wave of fatigue washed over Arlo, but it was worth it, as a translucent chain shirt appeared over Coradiel’s finery. “Ladies first?”
“I think it’s smart to keep the ranged in the back,” Coradiel retorted. “I’m not a lady. Don’t call me one.”
“Sorry.”
Arlo waved the paladin ahead. Sword at the ready, Coradiel stepped carefully down the stairs.
To no one’s surprise, the second he reached the bottom, an arrow slammed into his new armour.
“Arshea’s tits that hurt!” he snarled, spinning to the left. “Tsuto, I presume?”
Arlo hurried down the stairs, bringing his musket to bear as a second arrow shattered against a stone wall. A half-elf archer glowered at them, a goblin cowering behind him. Tsuto Kaijitsu did not look pleased at having his plans wasted.
“Drop your weapons or-”
Arlo yelped as an arrow caught him in the shoulder. Red hot agony burned through him, and his HP flashed from 18 to 6. Another shot like that and he was done for.
Dropping low, the mage squeezed off a shot. Behind Tsuto, the wall cracked, spitting shards of stone.
“Crap. It’s a fucking boss fight!” Frantically taking stock, Arlo called out, “Don’t kill the goblin! Just hold him off!”
“What? Why?” Coradiel demanded, dodging another arrow.
“Tsuto will flee if he’s on his own!”
“I’m not a coward!” Tsuto snarled. “I will gladly give my life to see Sandpoint burn.”
“I stand corrected,” Arlo muttered, using a wall as cover while he reloaded. “Bastard will probably kill himself if the goblin dies.”
He stuck his musket around the corner, yelping as another arrow skipped off the stone he was hiding behind. Tsuto let out an angry bellow, and Arlo chanced a peek.
CRACK!
His next shot caught Tsuto in the shoulder. A scream of pain echoed through the hall.
Arlo reached for another shot, and froze. His hand patted his ammunition pouch, dug through it… but it was no use.
“All yours,” he called to Coradiel.
“What? Why?” The paladin demanded, frantically fending off the goblin.
“Because I’m out of bullets!”
“I thought you couldn’t run out!”
“Well I did!”
His spell must have ended without him noticing. Fuck… now he had to make his own bullets by hand. That was going to eat up so much money. And they weren’t exactly swimming in gold as it was.
Charging at Tsuto, Arlo grabbed a rope from his bag. He wrapped it around Tsuto’s arms, pulling an agonised scream from the archer as his shoulder ground bone against bone. Shoving the tail end into Tsuto’s mouth, the catfolk turned on the goblin, only to find it dead at Coradiel’s feet.
“Where is Ameiko?” The paladin’s voice was cool, collected…and absolutely fucking terrifying. How could he be so calm after fighting for his life? “Where is your sister, Tsuto?”
The half-elf spat at Coradiel through the rope. Arlo’s hand was flying before he realised it.
CRACK!
Tsuto’s head struck the floor. He stared up, dazed, yet still defiant.
“Don’t hit him,” Coradiel growled quietly. “That’s what he wants. And we don’t give traitors what they want.”
Sighing, Arlo glanced down the narrow hall. It split off into multiple passages. His sigh became a groan. Pulling out his spellbook, Arlo began flipping through pages until he found the spell he wanted. It took a minute for him to memorise the spell properly, but finally, the catfolk closed his book.
“[Detect Secret Doors].”
It was a huge risk — Arlo was now down to 1 mana for the day, and if he used that, exhaustion would set in. But he needed to know where Ameiko was. Creeping down the hall, his musket held like a club, the catfolk cast his gaze around. Door there… door there… neither of which were hidden.
Turning a corner, his eyes widened at a faint glow beyond a pile of rubble. The shape of a door slowly shimmered into view.
“Fuck, am I glad I took that spell…”
They found Ameiko in one of the other rooms. Beaten, bound, gagged, she’d certainly had better days. Arlo was quick to unbind her, while Coradiel conjured healing energies to his hands. With the benefit of the paladin’s healing, Ameiko came round, unfocused eyes quickly regaining their razor sharp attentiveness.
“It was him,” she confirmed, as Arlo untangled the ropes binding her arms. “Tsuto unleashed the goblins on the town. Twice. I have to warn my father — Tsuto wants to kill him!”
“Ameiko, your father is dead.”
“What?!” Both Arlo and Ameiko stared at Coradiel, aghast.
“How the fuck do-” Realisation dawned on Arlo. “He’s on the factory floor, isn’t he.”
“It’s… not pretty,” Coradiel said. “Lonjiku and everyone who worked here are dead. There’s nothing remaining for us here.”
“Wait. There’s a tunnel just around the corner,” Arlo denied. “I’m almost certain that’s how the goblins managed to get in here. We need to set a guard, then when I’m resupplied, we can look into exploring the tunnel to make sure there won’t be any more goblins coming through.”
“It’s an old smuggler’s tunnel,” Ameiko said quietly. “Grandfather said he’d blocked it off. But if it’s open again… oh Father… what have you done to this town?”
“Something tells me this was more Tsuto’s doing than Lonjiku,” Coradiel denied gently. “Let’s get you out of here. We’ll take Tsuto to the garrison — Sheriff Belor can deal with him when he returns. And you need rest.”
Arlo searched through his belt pouch one more time. Black paper for cold iron shot… white paper for regular shot… he had ten of each cartridge. 360 gold was gone, lost to crafting ammunition. It hurt, but he still had nearly 900 gold left after looting all of Tsuto’s supplies and selling them to various vendors.
A search through the half-elf’s journal had proven especially enlightening. The smuggler’s tunnel held an opening to something called the Catacomb of Wrath. It was guarded by a quasit, a minor demon who could only be hurt by cold iron weapons. At this very moment, Coradiel was busy preparing for the dungeon — it had been agreed that they couldn’t just leave a place called the Catacomb of Wrath unexplored. Coradiel was worried it would have dire consequences for the town. Arlo was more concerned by the XP that could no doubt be found in there; it had been far too long since he’d last levelled up, and with fights becoming harder, he was certain more levels would be needed to keep up with the dangers ahead.
He still pored over the journal, trying to get every ounce of information he could from it.
“The raid failed miserably. Some beast sniffed out the goblins and alerted the town. I wasn’t able to get anywhere near Tobyn’s casket. I can’t wait for the real raid. This town could use a burning, that’s for sure.”
“Ripnugget favours an overwhelming approach. We’ll do a test run in two days. I have my doubts. Personally, I think we should send the quasit up through the old smugglers’ tunnel with her freaks, while teams of goblins strike from my father’s Glassworks and the river. My love’s too distracted with the lower chambers to make a decision. She says once Malfeshnekor is released, no one will stand in our way.”
“Failure again. The same beast assaulted our force with some sort of magic propelled by black powder. The goblins fled at the sight, but I will have my revenge. Even now, a force of goblins have taken the Glassworks. I will deal with my father’s failure, then I will devise a way for the catfolk to enter the Glassworks on his own. Perhaps my sister will help. I’ve heard she has a thing for the creature.”
No matter how much he knew it wasn’t true, that last bit never failed to turn Arlo’s stomach. He certainly didn’t have any interest in Ameiko, and using his own sister as bait…. Well, Tsuto had already committed patricide. Arlo doubted he’d stop there. It made him glad Bethany had come to get Coradiel.
And now Tsuto was languishing in the Garrison, watched closely by a couple of new recruits to the town guard. How he’d planned to lure Arlo using Ameiko remained a blissful secret Arlo would never know. He seemed to have a knack for fucking up bad guys’ plans. There were worse things to be good at. Arlo just hoped it wouldn’t bite him in the ass one day.