Chapter 1 - Hammering Out Details (Patreon)

I stared at the cards, trying “Ahahah - I’ve got you now,” I thought. Three kings stared at me from my hand and I did my very best not to smirk at Millerd. This losing streak was about to take a 180. Of course, that’s when Jeb interrupted us.

“Mister, they’re back at it.”

"What? Again? Seriously, what is it this time?" My annoyance, already hard to hide, rose to the surface before I pushed it back down into the depths.

Jeb's composure was unruffled, as was his regular dour teenage attitude. "Ye're the one who told me to get ya when the lizards messed up again."

I tore myself from staring at Jeb's new look - a shiny bald pate. Apparently, his father, Gillem, had left his razor out and now the stick-thin gnome kid looked like a particularly bored escapee from a children's ward. "Kobolds. Also, I know, and I appreciate your help. Still - that's the third time today. Any idea what they're up to this time?"

Shrug. "Nicked some stuff, I think. Could hear Mirael hollerin' from here."

"Gods. This one's going to be a pain." Mirael was an ancient halfling, with a knack for finding the best berries and plants in the outskirts of the forest. She also had a mean streak a mile wide reserved for whoever dared cross her. "Here - somebody should enjoy it while it's nice and cold. I'm going to be a while." Having said that, I pushed my half-finished lemonade towards him and left for the tavern door.

Sometimes I dislike being right. The past handful of days following the arrival of the kobolds to Grant's Crossing hadn't been relaxing. Quite the opposite, really. It'd been a constant job of smoothing out problems, handling tiny obstacles and attempting to find a middle ground between two very different peoples. Even so, today was proving to be the worst day yet. Somebody should've seen it coming, really. The Fallen from Nerit came from a society where might made right and not getting caught was the number one rule. Grant's Crossing was your archetypal sleepy village with several books filled with rules, only none of them were written down. Sparks were bound to fly - and fly they did. Two fist fights, one knife duel and a handful of very shocked guests at the bath house was the count so far. Not to mention a slew of minor misunderstandings and discussions. Adding theft to the list was just the spark we needed to ignite the pyre.

There was no doubt where the commotion was - her screeching could be heard from across the square. Making my way through the circle of grumbling listeners who were attending her tirade, I approached Mirael. "Hello, Mrs. Darkvine. Could I trouble you to repeat what happened?"

She turned towards me, eyes ablaze. "What happened? I'll tell you exactly what they did, the filthy beasts. I've been slaving in the woods for a full day, and gathered enough mushrooms to last me at least a week - maybe two. As if that weren't enough, I found a double handful of Beggar's Roots. Do you know how rare those are? Then, the moment I come back, I spend five minutes resting against a tree just outside the gate - and suddenly my basket is gone." She glared defiantly at me. "So? What are you going to do about it? They're your pets!"

What a handful. If this had been my first time talking to her, I'd probably be stuttering and begging for her understanding about now. Fortunately, this wasn't our first run-in. "I'll look right into it. So, this tiny moment of rest - would you happen to have closed your eyes while you rested?"

"Of course I did. A woman my age needs to recuperate from work."

"Aha. Good to know. So, how long did you say you were asleep?"

"It couldn't have been more than... wait. I never said I fell asleep." She rapidly caught onto her mistake and blundered onward, even as a snicker escaped one of the onlookers. "Well, even if I did, what does it matter? Five minutes, at most, it's been and when I woke up, the basket was gone."

"I see. If I were to ask any of the people who tend to enter and exit the village all the time - Grace, the carpenter, for instance, or Benneth- do you believe they might confirm that? Or could it possibly have been a little longer?"

A blush crept up her neck. "Well, I suppose it could have been fifteen minutes. Half an hour at most."

"Thank you. That narrows it down some. Now, as to evidence - why do you believe some of the kobolds took your basket?"

Her expression tightened and she stared defiantly at me. "Who else could it've been? We all know they're a bunch of no-good wastes of space."

"No evidence then? Did you see anybody running away, perhaps?"

"No - but when I entered the gate, the place was practically teeming with them, the uncouth lizards."

I sighed. "That wouldn't happen to be because their housing is being erected right next to the gate, would it?" I waved my hands. "Now,  I'm not saying it wasn't any of the kobolds. I promise to look into it right away and do my best to recover your basket." She gathered a breath to spring to the attack again, but I interrupted, "however. You have no evidence, no clue who it was and you've spent enough time dozing that it'll be next to impossible to narrow down who's been leaving and entering the gate in that time. Also, it's not like petty theft was unheard of before the kobolds arrived. Even so, you've insisted - loudly -  that they're the ones to blame. I give you my word, Mrs. Darkvine, that if you continue to accuse them without just cause, I will approach the Council regarding somebody disturbing the peace of the village. I promise, the kobolds will not be the ones defending themselves - but you, Mrs. Darkvine."

Having said my piece, I strode away, leaving  the stout halfling sputtering behind me.  

Jeb fell in beside me, sniggering. The tavern owners son had yet to show to the world what kind of personality he was going to end up with - for now, teenager was all he had. That part, he played pretty well, though. "That was fun. Noth'n like seeing ol' Daftvine put in 'er place once in a while. " He glanced at me. "So. Y'think the lizards did it too, right?"

A glance told me nobody was close enough to listen in. I threw my hands into the air in disgust. "Of course. It's practically guaranteed. I'll bet you I can find out who did it within half an hour too. Why do they have to be so damn obvious about it?" A moment's silence passed by while I gathered my thoughts. "You're tagging along. Does that mean you've got nothing better to do and might as well waste a little time here?"

His shrug was answer enough.

"Fair enough - odds are, it's going to be entertaining for you. Now, if you want to see what happens, you might as well be of some use. I need you to run a quick errand."

"I do what I want, mister. 's a free village."

Teenagers. "Alright, I'll throw a few coppers your way. Now, get hopping or I'll have to throw them at you, you lazy bum. This is what I need you to do..."

To his credit, he didn't complain after that and he sprang to it right away with a grin on his face. This was probably the closest to reality tv he'd ever experience. 

As for me, I strolled towards the other side of the square, near the gate. The area used to be the ugly side of town, where the Blood Brothers' building stood surrounded by the homes of the lazy, dull and poor. Even back when the dwarf duo lived their, fat and rich from plundering the caravans along with my nemesis, Othell, the place had been a dump. Now, however, it had deteriorated even further. The Council had opted to follow my recommendation and allowed the Fallen to become part of Grant's Crossing. They could not, however, get themselves to allocate room for the kobolds outside the poor man’s area. The result was a muddy, sprawling, chaotic mess. Hastily erected lean-tos fought for supremacy with improvised tents and piles of refuse were already starting to accumulate. 

While the old biddy was a pain in the neck and speciesist to boot, she was also right on the money on a couple of topics. It was true - the kobolds seemed to be everywhere. Chatting, lazing about, fighting and acting like... well, like a bunch of no-good wastes of space. Also, they really had been nothing but trouble so far. Still, for some reason they'd decided to adopt me as their protector and I wasn't going to let them down. Even if they forced me to actually work for a living. Nods and shouts in the kobold language greeted me, as I strolled through the crowds. I waved back and shared words with a couple of them until I spotted the amphibian I was looking for. 

To call Lidack ugly would be a disservice to ugly kobolds everywhere. Being Anathema leads to a hard life. Add to that old age, and an unhealthy consumption of the nauseating alcoholic beverage called Ache and a tendency to never back down from an argument and you'd get Lidack. Broken teeth, dull scales and a battered body did not make for a good first impression - and neither did his stench. His eyes were alight, however, and he had a smile on his face - and he’d been of great help to me back in Nerit, when I needed help the most. "Hey. Lidack. How's my favorite purveyor of Ache doing these days?"

He looked up from his dinner and gave me a huge grin. "Ah. My favorite scaleless freak. Come. Look at this. It's amazing is what it is."

I took a good look at the three different pots he had simmering over a fire. "That... looks horrifying. Don't they feed you guys?"

He laughed like I had made a wonderful joke. "It's amazing. I'm just starting the process, but the produce they have here is above and beyond what I'm used to. The mash doesn't act up like it did all the time in Nerit. It’ll be a good while till I know anything for sure, but I'm betting this'll be the best damn batches of Ache I've ever created."

Ah. Brewing. "I'll make sure to come by and taste... as soon as I've seen a couple others try it and not go blind. Wait. Does that mean you've dragged those pots with you all the way from Nerit?"

He grimaced. "Those pots are the least of it. I barely noticed them. The still, however... that was a pain. Even so, it's going to be worth it once I can start selling my goods."

"Good on you, Lidack. I'm sure you'll fit in quite nicely. In fact, I'm certain that there's a market for you here." Maybe Kiff wouldn't have to resort to petty theft the next time he wanted to grab a hold of cheap alcohol. "Speaking of markets, did you notice the noise back there at the market?"

"Pretty hard not to notice, right? Somebody nicked something, it sounded like?" 

I laughed, "Come on, man. Don't give me that wide-eyed innocence. Like you don't know exactly what happened and who did it. Spill already."

He huffed. "Why would you... aw, who am I kidding. What're you offering?"

"There's the Lidack I'm familiar with. I'm out of cash and goods, so that's not on the table. Tell you what though - if you can tell me what's gotten into everybody, I can try and fix it before anybody gets killed or kicked out ot the village."

He nodded. "That'll do me. It's not like it's too hard to figure out either. We're bored to tears, Arcangelo. We're safe, have a place to live, food and nobody's after us. What in the Pits are we supposed to do all day? Not everybody's like me, with proper business instincts and an honest trade."

I had to restraint a sigh of relief, as I read the notification that arrived before me.

[new quest.

Course Correction

The Anathema of Nerit and the people of Grant's Crossing have started off on the wrong foot. Do what you can to limit friction between the two peoples. 

The result of this quest will have effect on the prosperity of Grant's Crossing.

Reward: 

+rep Grant's Crossing 

+rep Anathema]

Wonderful. Frigging marvellous even. For the past four days, I'd been increasingly busy dousing fires and easing tempers without getting to the root of the problem. This? This I could work with.  "I'll take care of it. Now, who did it?"

For a moment he seemed nervous. "Promise you won't tell on me?"

"I'll do you one better - when we're done talking, I'll wander around and ask a bunch of others... that way nobody'll know who tattled."

"That... would be good. It's Morak and his crew. They're not doing too well with all the rules here." 

I grimaced. "Damn. It had to be them. Alright, I appreciate the help. Take care and make sure you warn me when your foul brew is done." With a grin and a wave, I left and did like we'd agreed, touring the place and chatting with people. I made sure to ask for the culprits in each place. Mostly, I gauged the temper of the groups, however, and everything checked out. They had taken the risk of a lifetime, leaving everything the knew behind and hadn't known what to expect. Boredom, however, had not been part of their expectations. Out of the entire group, Morak and his two hangers-on were the worst troublemakers. Back in Nerit, they'd been at the top of the food chain, making their way through theft, beatings and intimidation. I had no interaction with them in Nerit, but on our way back to Grant’s Crossing, Mira and I had marked them as potential troublemakers. From what I'd seen, the trio intended to stay on the top.

After half an hour, boredom was setting in as I smiled at the arrival of my backup plan. A brief palaver and we had our battle plan - it was rough, but we'd probably have to wing it anyway. We parted ways again and I marched directly towards the haphazard collection of materials that constituted Morak's temporary abode. This time, luck was with me, as my suspects were in, lounging contentedly, dicing in the middle of a pile of blankets. I failed to recall the names of the two others, but Marok never failed to make an impression. Today was no different. As he spotted me, he favored me with a lazy smile and drawled "Ah, if it isn't our very own D'nerius. Anybody call for backup? Our Protector is here." His eyes remained cold, even as he looked around and continued, "No? Apologies, Protector. It would seem we've got things handled here."

The tough guy facade was going to be hard to crack - I decided to go in swinging and threw myself down on a blanket. Had they been stealing these from the other Fallen? "Oh, I agree. Especially if you're trying to get yourself killed." 

One of the hangers-on immediately raised his hackles, growling, "what're you trying to say? Want to fight?" 

Morak stayed cool, however. "Dip your scales, Kidarek. Of course our beloved Protector wouldn't be that aggressive - he is probably just trying to make some well-intentioned point. I just hope he gets around to it so we can continue our game." His gaze fixed on me and I could feel him measuring me.

I pointed right at him. "Morak gets it. Yeah, I'll get straight to the point. You're not Anathema anymore. You've probably understood that part. What you aren't getting is that the moment you decided to become a Grant's Crossing, you accepted to play by their rules. Except... you don't know the rules. Because if you did, you sure as hell wouldn't be risking your life to steal a damn basket."

"Pfah. We've done nothing. Can you prove otherwise?" His challenging gaze held more than a hint of a sneer.

My voice rose in anger. "Prove? Who said anything about proving anything? This isn't Nerit. Even if you don't get caught, things are still going to escalate until it grows out of hand. You're not only endangering yourself - no, you're ruining it for everybody. So help me, if you continue like this, I'll make sure you get caught and sent to the Pits - I don't care if you actually..." 

"Arcangelo. What in the Pits are you doing?" A shout from the sideline reached my ears and I frowned at the sight of Arack bearing down on me, her usually mild countenance adorned with an uncommon frown. On the inside, I marvelled at her timing - this might just work. My tiny kobold companion entered the camp and continued in a lower voice, "what's going on here? What are you talking about, sending my family to the Pits without proof?"

I backpedalled with all might. "I didn't mean... well, I sorta did. Morak and his friends here have been stirring up trouble and stealing from the citizens. They obviously think it's like Nerit where everything's allowed as long as you can get away with it." I turned back towards Morak. "Let me make it straight for you. If you keep on like this, you will wind up exiled or killed. Hell, I'll see to it myself." 

Arack walked over to stand beside Morak and pointed accusingly at me. "You will do no such thing. Would you do the same to me if I made a mistake?"

"I... obviously that's a different thing. If-"

She interrupted. "It is the exact same thing. Like, nobody here's perfect, but we're family, right? Sure, Morak does some stupid stuff now and again and it sounds like he hasn't been too clever this time around either. Like, everybody knows it's you." It was Morak's turn to sputter, while Arack talked over him. "Uncle Arcangelo is right too. Even if he's being mean about it. We've got to act nice, or they'll end up kicking us out of the village. Would you like go back to Nerit and fight over rotten food again? Risk your life for scraps."

Now Morak couldn't contain it anymore and hissed. "Stop acting like I'm dumb! I'll do exactly what I want. Pits, it's not like I'm seeing tons of alternatives here."

Arack beamed. "Good point Morak. This is what I'm talking about. We need to be smart about it. You used to be a hunter, right? Back in the days?" He cocked his head in confusion and she continued, unperturbed. "That's perfect. From what I hear, there's only one real good hunter in the entire village and he's, like, this huge catfolk. No way is he going to be able to sneak."

"So what?"

"Don't you get it? They're going to need hunters. You won't even need to pass some stupid test or risk your life - you just need to get some equipment and get started. What do you need? You have a couple of throwing knives, I remember."

"A bow, I guess... and some wire or cord for traps. I'd need a decent knife though - what the Pits are you trying to do?" He roared the last bit, spittle flying everywhere.

Arack blinked at him. "I'm trying to help, silly. We're trying to find some job that you'd love to do so you can get rich, enjoy your life and have fun here in our new home." Morak's gaze swerved towards me. I probably looked equally confused as him and shrugged. She talked over us both. "Now, you probably know somebody who can give or lend us some stuff to get started, right Uncle?"

"I told you to stop calling me Uncle. Yeah, I guess Ms. Bertinga should be able to help. But why -" 

I might as well not have answered. Arack just talked on and before I knew it, she was sitting cross legged on the floor next to the trio, compiling a list of possible starter gear for them on my parchment. Kidarek suddenly revealed that he'd worked both as a skinner and leatherworker and the third, unnamed, kobold grudgingly accepted that his bulk was perfect for helping with all the heavy lifting. After a while, I just bowed out and left in surrender. Jeb was lurking nearby, shaking his head in amazement.

Whistling as I walked, I went straight back to my tavern room. I grinned to see an additional point to Diplomacy. Really, I’d been expecting Blackmail, but I guess Diplomacy was what won the day. Four days in the village and I hadn't spent much time in the room except for sleeping. Now, however, I puttered around, decorating the place a bit and getting things into order, while I mulled over the quest I'd gotten. Item-wise, not much had changed, seeing as how I hadn't completed any quests after returning. Even so, I put up a handful of assorted items only for their looks - a viper tooth as a memento alongside a carved rabbit I’d gotten from a local kid and a large serpent scale. Then I spent a while preparing a bundle of items under my bed in case of an emergency. After the scare with the caravan, I'd gained an additional serving of paranoia and aimed to be ready if somebody kicked the door in. I didn't have to wait long, however. A merry series of knocks on the door preceded Arack's grinning face and I bid her welcome with a heartfelt round of applause. "If it isn't the master manipulator herself. I take it you managed to convince them? When I left, they looked like they were ready to follow your every lead."

She looked at her feet. "They're good guys, really. You just have to know them first - like, really well. But they're going to roll with it. If you manage to help them with some equipment, they'll start hunting and skinning right away - that should keep them away from trouble. Also..." Her voice petered out.

"Also?" 

"Well, I may have been able to convince them to return the basket to that mean old lady and apologize. There wasn't really anything edible inside anyways. They were just going to dump it." A tiny smile grew on her lips.

I shook my head in disbelief. "Arack, you are amazing. From now on, I'm keeping you nearby around the clock. You can work the crowd and get me better tips!"

She raised an admonishing finger. "That's so not going to happen. I'm using my powers for good. And, I guess, when I feel like teasing somebody." She grew pensive for a moment. "If you hadn't attacked them earlier on, I don't believe they would've listened to me, though. How did you know that was going to work?"

"Call it a hunch. Where I come from, it's the oldest trick in the book though. One person's unreasonable and hostile, the other kind and understanding. You were amazing though. Want to go and see if Gillem's woken up? My treat - whatever you'd like." 

"Yay. I knew there was a reason I left with you guys!"

Moments later, she was inhaling a bowl of fruit salad alongside a huge plate of roasted tubers. According to her, the combination was 'perfectly normal.' I had my doubts, but kept quiet. For once, I wasn't counting coppers either. Apart from the experience and reputation, I'd gotten a nice, fat cash reward from arranging the pact of no agression with the kobolds. Also, the Council insisted that I was paid for my job as a bard for the weeks in Nerit even though I hadn't technically been in the village. I wasn't swimming in it, but things were alright. Heh - even when Gillem got his money back, I'd have more than seven gold pieces left over. I closed my character sheet, noting the increase to Diplomacy. That was the third increase over the past couple of days, leaving me at 14. At least all the bickering paid off somewhere. I was a bit baffled by an increase to my Teacher skill, though. Maybe I was inadvertently improving Arack's Diplomacy skill? She did not need to become more adept at talking people into doing her bidding.

Gillem approached the table. Landlord, friend and David Hasselhoff-look-alike - the merry gnome was many things. He was also a huge tease. "So, Uncle, is it? I see the resemblance."

Arack and I both stared at him, affronted. When we spotted the other's reaction we burst out in laughter and I complained. "Alas, my luck is such that I'm bound to be forever surrounded by tormentors who mock and deride." I ducked my head to avoid the inevitable apple slice that flew my way and grinned. "Mockery aside, Gillem. You have a moment? I actually wanted to talk to you about something serious."

He looked at me in surprise. "Sure. Kiff can hold the fort for a bit while we take it to your room. Erm. Is it urgent though?"

"Mmm, no. Urgent, but not 'right this minute' urgent."

"Good. I mean, I'll make time, but... Jeb told me to pass something on. He passed by the graveyard earlier today and had a little chat with Chertog." He paused for effect.

"Oh. Don't tell me -"

"Yeah, he is furious. Beyond that, even. Jeb's learned a good handful of new, colorful words from what he was spewing. I believe his final tirade was something along the line of 'if that no-good apprentice of mine doesn't get his stick-thin behind over here soon, he's done as a Chronicler."

Crap. Double crap. I knew he started to be annoyed by the time I was taking with that quest he'd given me on the very first day - and I kept being interrupted or forgetting about it. By the sound of it, his patience was at an end. "Ahem. That's... would the two of you mind horribly if I took a quick breather?"

Gillem didn't laugh. A few facial tics did reveal how much he was enjoying himself, though. "By all means. We'll talk later, when Chertog's done with you."