Chapter 07 - The Farm

The following morning they awoke and began organizing their gear for the ride to Forrestvale.  The southern road leading to town was just past the first watchtower east of Beetwixt, and they expected to arrive sometime in late morning.  

 

As they prepared their trikes Pints emerged from the constable headquarters entrance, a piece of paper in his left hand.  “We found the rogue who ran from the fight last night,” he said. 

 

Paloma looked up.  “Oh?  I think we’d like a word with him.”

 

“Yes, I would as well,” Slovi replied.  “But unless you’re a powerful cleric, that’s not going to happen.  He’s dead.  Throat slit.  We found this note stuffed in his mouth.  It’s written in thief’s cant.”  He held it out for Paloma to examine.  “It says, 

This is the fate of all cowards who fail to fulfill their obligations.”

 

“Subtle,” Paloma said, examining the note.

 

Vim fired up his bike, relishing the sound it made as he twisted the throttle.  “Screw that guy.  Who’s ready to ride?”

 

 

The road south was well maintained but much narrower than the main highway, wide enough for single file traffic in both directions and the forest starting only a dozen or so feet from either side.  It was dark and cool, the tall pines blocking the direct sunlight – the sun wouldn’t touch the road until late morning, and then only for an hour or two as it ducked behind the western trees in the afternoon.

 

From time to time a clearing opened on one side of the road or another.  Some were natural, low spots where ponds formed and wildlife could be seen emerging from the woods for water.  Others were homesteads and small farms, the land cleared by the laboriously process of cutting down trees by hand, or maybe with the aid of a bit of magic if the farmer could afford to hire a sorcerer or wizard.  

 

There was almost no traffic on the road this morning, and the party usually rode two abreast with Jahnas and Vim up front and Modi and Paloma behind them.  Vim spent much of the ride shouting over the engine noise at Gnomey, his sidecar companion laughing and gesticulating wildly.  The pair were having a great time together.  

 

But that also meant that it was Jahnas who first saw the smoke.  The triton began to slow his trike, Vim only looking up once he realized his partner was no longer driving at his side.  The black smoke billowed straight up over the trees, there being only the slightest breeze.  The source was to their left and appeared to be quite close to the road.  

 

Vim and Jahnas looked at one another, traded nods, and accelerated.  Modi and Paloma also exchanged glances, and while they increased their speed they maintained some separation from the other pair.  In these woods they’d be easy to ambush, and a bit of space would make it harder for any potential enemies to catch all of them at the same time.

 

As they approached the source of the smoke a clearing opened up on the left.  Before Modi and Paloma could see what it contained, Jahnas and Vim both turned hard to the left, their trikes leaving the road and hurtling off to the east.  Modi, as always, was inscrutable, but Paloma felt a knot in the pit of her stomach in anticipation of what they were about to see.

 

The clearing came into view, and it was even worse than Paloma expected.  A few hundred feet from the road sat a humble farmhouse.  To the right of it a large barn burned as animals darted around the property.  Chasing them were a pack of goblins that were gleefully killing everything in sight.  Another group of the wretched greenskins were milling about at the left side of the house. 

 

Vim and Jahnas rode swiftly toward the larger group to the left.  The creatures’ eyes grew wide at the sight of the two trikes barreling down upon them.  Paloma had no idea what their plan was, but she knew she was most useful at a distance, so she skidded her trike to a stop a few dozen feet off the road and began to prepare a spell.  Modi split the two groups of goblins with his path, the elf trying to see where he might do the most good and driving straight towards the house.

 

The first round of arrows from the goblins missed the riders, the beasts failing to account for their speed.  It was Vim who arrived first, skidding hard to the left and allowing Gnomey to leap from the sidecar, a flaming magic scimitar in his hands as he landed amongst his foes.  The trike continued forward and ran over one of the greenskins before Vim stopped and dismounted.  As this was happening Paloma was startled to see Jahnas stand up on the seat of his trike, which began to slow rapidly without the triton’s hand on the throttle.  The monk leapt gracefully into the air, doing a back somersault before landing alongside Gnomey.  She had to admit, she was impressed.

 

Movement to her right refocused Paloma on the group of goblins on that side.  Two tendrils of eldritch energy leapt from her paw-like hands, each wrapping the skin of an on-rushing goblin in a web of scorching power.  The pair in front fell, their skin smoking from burns crisscrossing their bodies.  The pair behind them continued rushing forward past their dead comrades and shooting arrows from their shortbows.  The sorceress nimbly hopped over her trike and hid behind it, one arrow missing badly and the other snapping as it hit the hub of one of the rear tires.

 

Modi roared forward, rapidly approaching a decision point.  Paloma looked to be able to handle herself against the two remaining goblins to the right, while to his left Jahnas, Gnomey, and Vim were in a serious fight.  One of the goblins on that side towered over the others, roughly the size of a well-muscled man.  A goblin boss.  Modi saw Vim crouch as the monster rained blows upon his shield with its scimitar.  

 

Just as he was about to turn to the left the wizard saw the front door of the house open, a pair of armored and sword-wielding hobgoblins emerging to see what all the noise was about.  The sight of an elf on a trike rushing towards them was only a momentary surprise, hobgoblins being made of sterner stuff than their smaller cousins.  Modi skidded to a halt, forcing them to use their shields to cover their eyes from the rocks and dirt kicked up and giving him time to dismount.  He engaged his bladesong magic as he literally danced toward them, his pair of short swords flashing in the sun.

 

The battle quickly devolved into desperation.  The hobgoblins and goblins were overmatched but had the advantage of numbers, while the party members found themselves besieged from multiple sides.  Another eldritch blast from Paloma dispatched the remaining two goblins to the right, leaving her free to help either Modi or the others.  Looking to the left she saw Gnomey cut down a goblin with his flaming scimitar, though Jahnas struggled to land blows with his unarmed strikes, the nimble goblins darting to and fro.  Vim battled the leader while using his shield to fend off goblins trying to attack his flank.  Modi, however, looked to be in a tougher fight.  A hobgoblin warrior was worth at least three of its smaller kin in battle, and the elf was taking on a pair single-handed.  

 

Paloma decided to even the odds for Modi, then turn her attention to the others.  She moved her paws around one another as if she was making a snowball, forming a green ball of auroral energy.  When it was ready she pushed both hands forward from her chest, launching the orb at one of the hobgoblins.  The shimmering ball struck it in the chest with a force that surprised even her.   The creature flew backwards from the blast, rupturing the wall behind it and ending up inside the house on its back, a smoldering hole in its chest.

 

Back in the larger battle Gnomey saw a goblin pierce Vim’s chain shirt armor with the point of a javelin it was using as a stabbing weapon.  This caused Vim to twist his body and it was only quick reflexes that allowed him to get his shield back up in time to deflect yet another slash from the goblin boss.  “No!” the gnome shouted, causing the javelin-toting goblin to turn and face him.  The pair locked eyes as the veins in Gnomey’s neck and forehead pulsed and bulged, his face growing red and mouth open in a shout of rage.  The goblin’s eyes grew large and its entire body began to shudder.  Blood tricked and then ran freely from its ears, nose, and eyes as it opened its mouth in a silent scream.  Its eyes rolled back as it clutched its head, collapsed to its knees, then fell face first into the ground.  

 

Modi’s dancing confused the remaining hobgoblin, his flowing robe and whirling form hiding his blades from view as they struck home again and again.  He finished his opponent off with a quick flick of his wrist that slit its throat, then turned and ran toward the remaining fracas even before the hobgoblin hit the ground.  

 

One goblin broke and ran when it saw Vim finally take down its boss, his mace cracking its thick skull, but Paloma’s left paw snapped out from her side and the fleeing creature burst into flames, taking a few more steps before falling to the ground.

 

The cracking fire at the barn was dying down, sounding louder in the sudden silence that always followed the end of a battle.  As everyone got their wits about them and caught their breath, they all turned to Gnomey, who had wandered back toward the trikes and was now sitting on the ground, his knees held tight against his chest as he rocked back and forth and sobbed.  As they walked toward the druid his words became clearer.  “Never do it in public… never let anyone see you do it… that’s what mom said… that’s what she told me… they’ll burn you as a witch if the see you… I tried mom but I couldn’t help it…”

 

He’s a psioncist, Paloma thought to herself.  He’s right to be frightened.  

 

The other four members of the party formed a semi-circle in front of the distraught gnome, Vim squatting to get on eye level with his sidecar companion.  “Gnomey my man, it’s OK.  No one here is going to burn you as a witch, right guys?”  Vim looked back over his shoulder at the group.  Jahnas met his gaze and held it for a few seconds before shaking his head ever so slightly.  Paloma whispered, “No.”  Modi, with all the tact they had come to expect from him, said flatly, “I won’t burn you as a witch, Gnomey.” 

 

Vim looked back at the gnome, who had stopped rocking and regarded him through eyes wet with tears.  “See?  What did I tell you?  You’re my main gnome, Gnomey, and we’re all friends here, OK?”  Gnomey nodded and looked down. The others left the pair together to talk as they headed back toward the house to see if they could figure out what happened.  

 

A wet cough from inside drew their attention.  “We should…” Paloma started, about to suggest a plan of action.  But Jahnas simply stepped through the hole in the wall created by the hobgoblin the sorceress had launched through it.  She shook her head.  “No one around here has any common sense,” she muttered to herself as she followed the triton.

 

Inside they found the farmer, Jacob Underwood, barely clinging to life.  He told them the attack had happened suddenly, and that his wife was killed.  He looked at Modi.  “Find our daughter Claire.  She went to Forrestvale this morning.  Give her her mother’s ring, please.  Promise me.”  

 

Modi nodded.  “I will find Claire and give her the ring, Jacob.  You have my word.”  He then walked toward where the farmer’s wife lay.

 

A look of relief came across the farmer’s face, and with that he exhaled for the last time.  Jahnas closed the man’s eyes and offered a triton prayer.  Vim entered just as the prayer ended.  “Oh geez.”

 

“Look at this,” Paloma said from the other side of the room.  She was crouched next to a pair of maces leaning up against the wall.  “These have the emblem of the constables on them.  This bloody cloak as well.”  When she picked up the cloak a scroll tube fell out onto the dirt floor, the wax seal showing the same mark.  A pair of handwritten notes were inside, the first formal, the second more personal.  Paloma read the aloud.

 

        Judge Dredd, we are troubled by the increased brazenness of goblin and 

        hobgoblin activity in the area around Forrestvale and ask for military assistance.  

        The beasts have attacked some outlying homesteads as well as travelers, though 

        they have not yet dared to attempt anything directed at the town.  Based on reports 

        we believe at least two small warbands operate in the area, though likely there are 

        more.  We are drilling the town militia and they are ready to respond if needed, 

        though we would benefit from trained military personnel.  Signed – Judge S. Dredd

 

“That’s so weird that the person who wrote this has the same last name as Jane Dredd,” Vim said.  Everyone stared at the bard.  “What?”

 

“I believe that Jane Dredd’s sister wrote the note, Vim,” Modi offered helpfully.  

 

It took a few seconds for Modi’s words to sink in.  “Oh yeah,” Vim said, smiling now.  “That’s right.  I wonder if the sister is older or younger.”

 

A look of anger flashed across Paloma’s face.  “What does that matter?”  Jahnas heard the hint of a growl in her voice and uncrossed his arms in case he had to stop her from pouncing on Vim.

 

Vim took a half step back.  “Um, well, I, I don’t… I was just wondering, that’s all.”  He looked at his feet sheepishly.

 

The other note was from sister to sister.

 

        My dearest sister, please ensure that Vincent and Thadeus return to us with haste –

        I suspect we shall need their strong arms soon enough.  There are some strange 

        happenings recently – townsfolk have been disappearing.  Certainly people come 

        and go in a town like Forrestvale, but there are indications that at least some may 

        have been abducted.  I’m worried, sister, that something sinister stalks us.  Send 

        help when you can.  – S.

 

They found a large pouch containing what Vim estimated, with the practiced eye of someone used to working with those who fenced good, to be 200-300 gold pieces worth of gems, as well as a few small rings and assorted coins.  “I suggest we have Modi hold this for now, and we can divvy it up when we get to town.”  Everyone agreed.  While it was perhaps a bit distasteful, the money might come in handy. 

 

As they left the house Modi turned abruptly toward the hobgoblin he killed.  The elf picked up the creature’s sword and regarded it with an expert eye.  “This is a magic blade,” he observed.  “It’s too large for me or Gnomey, and it’s definitely not a monk’s weapon.”  He looked at Paloma and she shook her head.  “Vim, you should take this weapon.  It may serve you well.”  

 

“Magic sword!” the bard shouted as he slashed at imaginary enemies.  “Awesome!”

 

Paloma looked back at the hobgoblin.  The medallion around its neck caught her eye.   She yanked it from the creature then walked back inside.  When she emerged she held a pair of identical metal medallions.

 

“Look at these,” she said to Modi and Jahnas, as Vim was still busy making figure eights with his new sword.  

 

“This looks a bit like the thing Wally was drawing,” Modi said.  

 

They all turned toward the goblin bodies at the same time.  They too wore medallions, though whereas those of the hobgoblins were finely made in metal, the goblin symbols were carved into bone and worn on leather straps.  

 

Paloma handed the pile of medallions to Modi for safe-keeping.  “This just keeps getting weirder.”