The dragon had chewed its way through the bronze bowl, a thick piece of cloth, a pair of iron tongs, a door, a chair leg, a table, Clerics hand, Rogues gold pouch, one of the bags of ball bearings, and is now sat on Lily’s lap. Lily was smart enough to collect a large bowl of rocks from outside, which the little one is now happily crunching on.
“So you had a dream, which you don’t remember, but you get the feeling this is some sort of seal?”
Wizard asks. She reaches a hand over towards the little dragon. The dragon hisses, and gnashes its needle like teeth at her. Lily pats it’s head, and rubs under its chin. It basks in the attention purring like a cat. It lifts up another piece of gravel, and crunches it. The teeth slicing through the rock like a hot knife through butter.
Marnie, the innkeep, slides a couple mugs of ale around the table, a sour look on her face.
“I should flay the little thing, and cook ‘im in a stew.”
She says. The dragon looks up at her, and bares his teeth in a smile.
“Little shit, can’t tell if he can understand us, or doesn't know what he is doing.”
She sighs before walking off.
“I mean at least the name is now true to the inn. I can see it now, ‘Come to the Dragons lair, the only tavern in all the kingdoms to have served an actual dragon.’
You’ll be a celebrity.”
I call to her.
“Yeah Vommitor, the dragon whose origin story is sure to make you sick.”
She replies a smile on her face. I make a serious face.
“Lily can I trust George in your care.”
She makes a face.
“George? That’s what you are going with?”
She asks upset with my excellent naming sense.
“Yes a famous Dragon slayer from my home was called George.”
She covers Georges ears.
“You are going to scar him. You are naming him off someone who killed dragons.”
She whispers harshly at me. George looks between us oblivious.
“What should I name him? Eragon? Rhaegal? Puff?”
I reply whispering back.
“Llewellyn.”
Lily replies.
“Fine George Llewellyn.”
I say back to her.
“Llewellyn.”
“Llewellyn George.”
“Lle-well-yn.”
I throw my hands up.
“Okay, okay Llewellyn wins.”
She uncovers Llewellyn ears, and scratches under his chin. She lifts up another rock for him to eat.
“Lily can I trust Llewellyn, in your care.”
She nods. I take a handful of gold coins out of my pouch, and place them on the table.
“For your trouble, and Marnies.”
Llewellyn reaches up to grab the shiny coins.
“I’ll try, and get some more ball bearings for Llewellyn to snack on.”
I pat Llewellyn on the head.
Rogue had disappeared on the way to the constable, probably to steal money from small children. Fighter and wizard meandered along browsing shops, and Cleric cursed Llewellyn to the ends of the earth, while wrapping, and rewrapping the wound on her hand.
I bought a nice pair of workman's clothes yesterday. They were comfortable, and functional. The tailor was surprised, and more than likely a little scared when I kept shooting down the cloth recommendations. Going for something probably more expensive, but I’ll like better than some fancy nobles cloth.
The shirt was a dark green tinged with brown, it had taken a few tries to get the color right, but it was perfect for hiding in a forest. The pants were dark brown like a loamy dirt. The tailor I went to had a special wand he could use to change the colour of fabrics. They were apparently very popular in the capital, and nobles would go through multiple charges during a single social event.
The robe Waylax had given me resisted the wand remaining the same pristine white it had been.
The townsfolk look at me with a strange sort of reverence, a mix between awe, respect, and fear. Little did they know all of them could probably kick the crap out of me with little resistance.
A little girl stumbles into me as we are walking through town, she bumps into my leg, and then falls on her tooshand begins crying. Her mother rushes over.
“Lord Magus I’m terribly sorry my daughter bumped into you.”
She lifts the child up into her arms. I smile.
“Even I was a child at some point.”
The girl has a scraped knee, and silent tears fall down her face.
“Do you mind?”
I ask, the mother. She nods a deer in the headlights look. I gesture towards cleric who is already over the child.
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“Cleric do this, cleric do that, no don't use magic to heal your hand. Heal the little girl cleric. I'll beat you half to death then heal you, and beat you again.”
She mumbles to herself. A faint light shines over the skinned knee, and the wound vanishes. I smile at the little girl.
“Now be a good girl, and make sure to hold your mother's hand.”
The little girl nods, and hugs closer to her mom.
“You are surprisingly gentle.”
Wizard says.
“You can judge a society on how well it treats its children."
I reply.
“Well you can judge a society based on a lot of things, but children are most important. Either a loyal workforce, or a resentful mob. And both those dance heavily along a thin line.”
I pause for a moment, stopping beside an old woman selling dragon snaps. I take a few from her hand, placing a gold coin in exchange. She looks at me in shock which I return with a smile.
“This is the line I will attempt to traverse with the goblin. A mixture of discipline and respect, and kindness, gratefulness. Knowing full well the hand that feeds you has a brother with a knife. A Kobold likely would have been better initially, but the goblins respect of power will likely work better in the long run.”
I’ve seemed to have peaked Wizards interest, she writes as we walk. It's a scene back from the streets of earth. Face down in a book, but dodging any and all obstacles as they appear.
She catches my gaze.
“My mentor studied many of the ‘lower races’, she tried uplifting on a few occasions raising goblins in human households, etc. None of them worked.”
She pauses to think for a moment. Then begins to rapidly flip through her book. Stopping at a page that looks like it was bound in after the book was made.
“He was in the G’hrazza swamp last time I received a message from him. Studying a tribe of black kobolds.”
I wince a little. Kobolds were rough. Enough dragon blood to make them prouder than a lion, but not enough to fight an opponent on even ground. Which made them top tier in my book, but rough to fight.
Black Kobolds didn’t have the striking power of a red, or the trap sense of a blue. They were stealthy as all hell though, and deep bogs were perfect locations to lay traps and ambushes.
“Black kobolds? Not green, they are fairly amicable.”
Wizard shrugs,
“I studied plants, main reason I sought him out as a mentor is he travelled all over, which allowed me to collect samples.”
I clap her on the back, causing her to stumble.
“Congratulations are in order then.”
She gives me a strange look.
“You are no longer Wizard, you are Druid.”
She looks like she is going to swing at me. She raises her arm up, and then sticks her foot out, and trips me. I pick myself up off the floor.
“Excellent job Wizard drawing attention with a fist. An excellent way to distract an opponent, it could even be used with spells. Add a somatic component, to a spell that doesn't have one just to slip up your foes. If they think you are going to make noise the entire time you cast a spell, a surprise fireball is an excellent reward.”
Wizard seems to consider what I’ve said. I decide to add more.
“If you can reach a point where you need do nothing, but will magic to take shape before you. Why not use false motions, and words. The scorching ray you are about to cast is a lightning bolt, and your invisibility spell is teleport. It will confuse your opponent, and give you an edge.”
We arrive at the constabulary, and greet Damien outside.
“The little snot tried to escape last night, so we had to put chains on him.”
I let out a sigh.
“Do what you have to do. I’ll break it out of him soon enough.”
He leads us inside.
“Before you ask no he hasn’t eaten any of the vegetables or fruits.”
Damien pulls a handful of pieces of paper off his desk. He flips through them before handing me a stack.
“These are receipts for your clothing which will be ready in four days, a set of arms and armor which will be ready in 12 days, a set of 30 sigils and 5 seals which will arrive in one months time and a standing order for 100 more sigils and 10 more seals which can be ordered at any time, 10 trained warhorses, 7 letters from noble houses offering congratulations, 4 of them are marriage proposals, 2 are adoption proposals, and the last is a 4 page long war story, 3 denouncements from the other noble houses one of which also included a marriage proposal, the royal family has also sent notice that a representative will be sent.”
The information kind of overloads me. He thrusts the papers into my hand.
“Thank you Damien, you’ve been a big help to this outsider.”
He smiles,
“Once upon a time I was a manservant, not a constable at the edge of civilization.”
He gets a thousand yard stare.
“That’s a story for another time. I suppose you want to see the goblin?”
I nod. The goblin is manacled, and the manacles chained to the wall. An uneaten bowl of raw fruit, and veggies sits on the floor. He cowers in the corner of his cell. Curled up into a ball.
“Leave us for a moment.”
I say quietly. Damien, gives me an odd look, and leaves. Wizard was the only one who followed me of the party who was interested. She Shrugs and ducks out of the room.
“What makes a strong goblin?”
I ask him.
“Strength? Nope. Intelligence? Not likely. Cunning? The average goblin is as cunning as a hammer is sharp. Determination? A big plus. Ruthlessness? Definitely. Little one, you mistake my intentions, I am not here to dress you like a human, and walk you around like some pet. I aim to make you a goblin among goblins. Ruthless, and determined, with enough strength, intelligence, and cunning to rise to the top.”
He uncurls from his ball to listen to me.
“Little one you are a fledgling. A baby bird, who doesn’t know how to fly. With the path to become a phoenix before him. You will take the name of someone who strikes fear in the hearts of all. The ancestors of my ancestors, Arthur.”
A thunderclap echoes outside, and rain begins to pour.
“You see little one, the heavens themselves tremble at such a name.”
The goblin looks at me with awe in his eyes.
“Now you must learn the first and most important lesson, Fear.”
I open the cell door. I kick the goblin in the chest. Sending him sprawling across the room.
“Fear,”
I stomp on one of his hands.
“Is a reflex all creatures have.”
The goblin cowers away, but I continue my assault.
“It is the superpower for weak things.”
The goblin ducks out of the way of my first kick, but on the return I hit him in the side of the head.
“Your reactions become faster, you become stronger, chemicals rush through your bloodstream.”
He stands up, but I kick his ankle causing him to topple over.
“Remember fear, remember this feeling. Learn to suppress your fear, to overcome and control it, but never forget it. Never forget fear.”
The goblin uses his hands to try, and crawl away from me. Leaving a trail of blood behind him. I crouch beside him. Tilting his large lumpy head towards me.
“Fear is a powerful tool, but like any tool it only has so many uses. You must instill fear with a single overwhelming show of force. And every action you do from then on is something to be feared.”
I slam his head onto the ground. With a crack his nose is broken.
“In direct combat you must use terror, and panic not fear. Fear will make them fight harder if just slightly. Terror will cause their blades to weaken, and panic will cause them to flee.”
With his last bits of strength the goblin struggles to escape.
“This is terror, this is panic. You don't even think to lift a finger against me. I’m not a soft human like the others. I know pain, I know suffering. Most of all I know fear. Next time you try to escape I will find another goblin to teach, and you will be an example.”
Blood drips from the goblins mouth, and nose. He whimpers, and lays motionless. I stand up my knees cracking from the motion.
“Oof, what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. Your next lesson will be pain, you will learn it most intimately, how to inflict, and how to take it. This will be an ongoing lesson however.”
I walk to the cell door. I look back at his form, hate filled eyes staring up at me.
“When I am finished teaching you, when you are stronger. Come find me, show me again what it is to know fear.”