The Savage Caves - Chapter 22
The Savage Caves: Original Story by T.H. Lain
A Fan-Fiction Reimagining: Walthus Proudstump
Chapter 22
Sleep for Regdar was anything but restful. The warrior was plagued by images of gravestones atop a lonely hill, a deep sense of emptiness punctuating the gentle breeze that brushed against his face. Regdar saw the faces of Jozan, Lidda and Naull hovering over him and the looks of fear that struck their features made his heart sink. Tossed in a whirlwind of worry, loss and pain the warrior managed little actual sleep. He woke first, disoriented by the lack of sunlight at first but that settled into a dull acceptance. The underground was confusing and exhausting. He’d be happy to be back on the surface and away from all of this. Maybe away from everything. He helped the goblins, which now numbered almost fifty - where they’d all come from he had no clue - moving the dead bodies of the bugbears. They’d traveled down a long, winding tunnel that ended in a great hole - a refuse pit, he would guess from the stink of the thing. They’d rolled the bodies into it, after taking from them whatever might be of use to the goblins. Lidda had played translator begrudgingly; sleepy-eyed she’d complained the entire time about how uncivilized humans were and how the burden of diplomacy was always thrust on people like her. Regdar was grateful to be able to tune out her grumbling. He knew she was kidding but the entire ordeal was difficult and he didn’t have the patience. He just wanted to be done with this entire thing - the people of Fairbye safe, Jozan delivered to New Koratia. His thoughts went to the shield, lost somewhere deep in that dark water, where Naull and Jozan had fallen - there was quite a bit of wealth there; coin pouches and a fine dagger, a few other pieces of equipment that led Regdar to believe that the bugbears had probably killed a group of people before coming to the caves. They’d need to look through it more to determine if there were identifiers. The warrior hoped there were. Losing a loved one and not ever knowing their fate seemed almost worse than the loss itself. Almost. He let the busy work and the dull ache in his chest, soreness left over from his wounds, settle into him and push his thoughts away. Lifting the bugbears was mostly a job only he was capable of doing but several goblins were strong enough to help at least a little. It made the work less backbreaking and Regdar asked Lidda to thank them. He assumed she did. They all gathered in a sleeping area, where Rezrek had stayed, and the warrior watched Jozan hold his palm to cover his nose as they dug through the mess. It was a pile of filth and refuse, old bones and the entire place smelled like blood. The priest of Pelor picked through what he could find and noticed several items of interest; it looked like gear travelers would use, including travel packs, oil flasks, torches. It was enough for a decently sized group, Regdar noted - or they were traveling quite a long distance. One of the packs had several vellum scrolls, wrapped in filth soaked black ribbon - five in total that were usable. Naull said she could identify what spells were written on them but she wanted to wait until they’d reached the surface. What little identifiers there may have been were warped and impossible to say after weeks of the bugbear’s treatment. Lidda had revealed a ring she’d pocketed from one of the bugbear’s they’d fought - the one with the giant shield of hands. Regdar didn’t like to think about the owners of those hands and if they were alive or dead when they were taken. He had a strong suspicion, though. Naull believed she knew the person, at least somewhat, from the mark on the ring. The halfling had complained, even offered to sell it to the young mage, but Jozan’s stern look and Regdar insisting broke her; she let Naull have the ring. The last bugbear had been watched through the night by the goblins, and Regdar when he took his shift. Jozan had determined that she - such as Jozan believed, at least - would be able to walk after the grace of Pelor restored her wounds. She had been initially resistant to his ministrations, pulling away and snarling but she seemed to know some of the Flannish language; enough to communicate with, at least. Jozan had calmed her down and seeing the mess of her ruined leg slowly heal had been enough to end whatever hostile feelings she might have. She hobbled noticeably but otherwise seemed much like they all did - bruised and tired but alive. More than could be said for the other bugbears, he mused. A short time later as they were gathering their things to head back to the surface, with Leden offering to show them the way along with Tazerg - a fact that didn’t settle well with most of the group. But she must know the terrain better than they did, after weeks of living here. They’d need to trust her. “Lidda,” Regdar said, pulling the halfling closer to him. “Can you apologize to the goblins?” “For what?” Her question came off a little harsh, and loud, but he pressed. “For killing the ones we did.” He raised his eyebrows and shot a glance over to Tazerg. “Oh. Oh! Yeah, that would probably be a good idea - yeah?” She looked embarrassed but moved to Tazerg and spoke to him for a few minutes. There was quite a bit of gesturing and Lidda looking sad but in the end Tazerg shook his little head and waved his arms at the halfling. He pointed to Regdar and Lidda led him over to the much taller human man. “Regdar sad goblins killed?” The little goblin searched his face for something. The words from Lidda’s lips stung Regdar - he never killed with maliciousness. He fought in defense of a people, a group; never for any wickedness or rage. He certainly got angry when he fought, that was to be expected, but he didn’t like ‘killed’. It felt worse. Or, rather, it made him feel worse about something he thought he needed to do to defend himself and the others. He would do it again, too, if needed. “Yes,” the warrior nodded to Tazerg. He looked down and just sighed. “If I had known, I wouldn’t have killed anyone. I was protecting my friends.” Tazerg nodded his head along with Lidda’s explanation, a somber look on his scrunched grey face. He didn’t turn to Lidda but instead spoke directly to Regdar, with the halfling desperately trying to keep up with the fast pace. Lidda’s face, which Tazerg couldn’t see, was clearly frustrated by the speed he was talking. “Regdar not know - goblins enemies before and maybe friends now. Tazerg sad that goblins died. Many died.” He got a strange, far off look in his jaundiced eyes that Regdar was intimately familiar with; loss had that effect on everyone, he guessed. “Rezrek kill goblins for fun - Regdar not kill for fun. Regdar kill and keep safe friends. Tazerg understands.” He nodded to Regdar and held out his little hand, palm facing the warrior. Lidda started to speak but Regdar shook his head. This he understood well enough without her. He placed his larger hand against the goblin’s and nodded. Regdar didn’t feel good about the goblins deaths and honestly assumed he would never see the cavedeep goblins again in his life, or theirs. But it felt better to know there was no ill-will between he and these strange little creatures. One less thing to weigh on his heart, he thought dryly. But it made him smile. “Making fast friends, Regdar.” Naull teased. “Careful - that hard exterior, mercenary demeanor might not hold up if people thought you were soft with goblins.” She put her hand on his arm, smiling, and for a moment Regdar felt something he hadn’t in a long time - bruised and tired, beneath who knew how much dirt and stone, the old warrior remembered how it felt to trust others. The nagging voice telling him that attachments were dangerous and death ever present had, at least for the time, been silenced by the touch of the young woman. He met her eyes and smiled deeply, the age lines in his face even more visible. Naull smiled back. “Alright,” Lidda said, patting Tazerg on the shoulder and motioning to the exit of the chamber. “Let’s get the hells out of this place, now, please?”
Jozan turned his face upwards, taking a deep breath of the fresh air just outside of the cave entrance they’d entered what felt like weeks ago. The warmth of the sun, Pelor’s blessing made manifest, brought satisfaction and renewed strength to his tired and still weak limbs. The restorative powers had driven the last bit of lingering paralysis from him but the ordeal would take time to fully recover from; he had strong suspicions that by the end of the trip to New Koratia he’d be back to his normal self. The thought of riding a horse, though, struck him suddenly and he sighed. “Trials are merely testaments to our dedication - we may overcome them if we have faith.” He said aloud, drawing a look from Lidda. She stood on a small stone outside of the entrance to the cavedeep home, stretching and yawning after a long trek. Jozan looked her over for a moment. “What?” She said, raising an eyebrow. “It was stuffy and cramped in there.” “You’re barely taller than the goblins.” He mentioned and she rolled her eyes. “Typical.” She smiled. “Just because someone is small doesn’t mean small spaces are any less uncomfortable or confining, Father.” The halfling said this last part with a pouty lip and teasingly stuck her tongue out. “Why do humans have so little understanding of others?” “Perhaps you could help me learn, Lidda. We do have to travel back to Fairbye and the trip, though short, would be better with someone distracting from even more walking - even atop a horse.” “Oh. Oh no. I am not going back to Fairbye - those people can kiss my shapely ass.” She said. Jozan looked at her, amused but capable of hiding the slight smile on his face. He shook his head. “Now, Lidda,” he began and held a hand up to silent the woman’s immediate response. He had to respect her ability to respond to anything, even if she had no idea what it might be. “The people of Fairbye should know what you’ve done, shouldn’t they? You stopped a possible goblin issue, bugbear invasion and spider infestation. Do you think they’ll have the same difficulty believing you now?” “Yes.” The response was almost instant. Jozan shook his head and couldn’t help but laugh at her. She smirked but shrugged. “Fine. Fine!” She waved her hands at him dismissively. “I’ll go back to Fairbye. But by Pelor’s light if those idiots try to string me up again then I can’t promise I’ll be so nice this time.” She patted her shortsword. “Fair enough,” the priest responded. “But I know that will not happen. Not unless the people of Fairbye are looking to make an enemy of a priest of Pelor.” He inclined his head. “Aww, Father. You’d kill a bunch of defenseless, idiot villagers just for me?” She tilted her head at him. “That’s enough, I think.” He responded, a prominent frown replacing the joking smile he wore only moments ago. It was Lidda’s turn to laugh now. Naull also chuckled, standing next to Regdar as they took another look into the yawning cave mouth behind them. Lidda turned to the young mage. “I was obviously kidding, Jozan.” She shook her head and made a slicing motion with her little hand on her throat. Naull chuckled again. She looked to Regdar. “Do you think the people of Fairbye will cause any problems for the goblins now?” Her voice was sincere and filled with compassion for the little creatures, Jozan noted. He smiled. She was a complex girl but, at least, she seemed to have a good heart. He hoped that would be enough. “I don’t know,” Regdar said, looking at her and shrugging. “Let’s hope the goblins and Fairbye have no more interactions - it seemed that’s what Tazerg wanted, from what he told Lidda.” The halfling woman nodded in response. “I’m more than happy to travel back to Fairbye with you all.” Naull looked to the other three. “I would like to be there if they question Lidda’s motives - I think after the last few days I have a much better grasp of her and they might trust the word of a mage.” She smiled, though she looked uncertain. Jozan looked at the girl and remembered the sleek, black cat form she had taken in the caverns. Neither Regdar or Lidda had mentioned it, so the priest assumed they hadn’t seen her transformation. As Lidda and Regdar discussed possible ‘escape plans’ in case the villagers were still bloodthirsty, Jozan asked the young mage to speak with him. They had a bit of privacy now and Jozan needed to talk to her. “Yes?” She asked him, her face warm and welcoming. He spied the bracelet to Wee Jas and took a breath before speaking. Her body tensed as she saw him take in the trinket but her face still felt unguarded to him. “I’m sorry.” She looked confused for a moment and so he continued. “For accusations. I’ve explained why I felt the way I did and, honestly, I cannot say that has changed. Even after what has happened. But I trust you, Naull - I can’t say that’s something very easy for me to admit but I do, even while I feel uncertain about your magic. And ability to transform into a cat.” He raised his eyebrows at this part and Naull broke eye contact with him. “Oh, yes, well - a wizard should possess many spells just in case they need them. It always help to be prepared, that’s what my mentor Larktiss always said and though he’s an older man, I-” Jozan held his hand up to stop the deluge of words spilling out of the woman. He smiled. “I am not ignorant in the ways of magic, Naull, though I cannot profess to be any sort of expert. But I did see you speak no words of power, nor did your hands move in the very intricate patterns I had seen up until this point with your spells. So, please - you don’t have to deflect. Trust me, please.” He smiled. She nodded. “I can assume the form of a cat, as I wish.” “Why did you not the second time you were grabbed?” He crossed his arms. “I can do so only once a day - I’ve tested it several times with Larktiss, who also suggested I keep the fact that I can change my shape quiet. Many people do not understand the difference between malicious shapechangers and those more benign.” “Just as many people do not understand the nature of necromancy and it's possible,” he paused for a moment considering, “uses.” Naull smiled and shrugged. “Yes. Exactly.” “I don’t understand that either but I accept it. If you plan on traveling with us to New Koratia, I might suggest informing both Lidda and Regdar that you can do so. Watching you become a cat might be a tad jarring, I think.” He patted her on the shoulder. “Oh. Do you - I mean, I didn’t want to assume I would travel with you.” She looked uncertain and the priest smiled wide. “You just spelunked with the three of us, fought for your life and arguably kept all of us alive on multiple occasions during that. There is no doubt in my mind that you’ll be traveling with us, so long as it is what you wish.” “Yes, I think I would like that very much. Though I would like to take a small detour back to my Master’s tower, if you don’t mind.” She pulled the small ring from her pocket, the one that Lidda had given her. It still looked shiny in the morning light. “I have something I’d like to give him.” The priest nodded. “Let’s be off, then.”
Naull looked over the poorly made gallows in Fairbye with a critical eye - she was certainly no builder, not by any means. But the thing barely looked like it would hold the weight of the heavy man standing on it, let alone Jozan and Regdar as well. Lidda stood to the side, arms crossed and a look of total annoyance on her pretty face. Naull understood; she’d just saved these people’s livelihoods and possibly their lives but here they were, debating over her life. Still. It had felt like hours, honestly. Naull was growing tired after the whole ordeal and she missed Larktiss. She didn’t want to go back for good, gods no. But it would be nice to see her Master again and give him the ring. The moment she’d seen it, she knew - a swirl inside an open square of flowers. Farah’s mark. She didn’t know where the woman had run into the bugbears but they’d killed her. The knights probably found the remains of a camp they’d set. The young mage sighed. This would be difficult but at least Larktiss would know what happened. That felt better to her than not knowing. Burgomeister Tomah held his hands up to silence the crowd again. He looked tired and very sweaty, Naull noted. The man was practically dripping sweat and the day was rather cool. She crossed her arms as he spoke. “Good people of Fairbye, please. Let us be calm. Father Jozan has explained the situation, yes - that is true. But the fact still remains that the halfling Lidda has stolen goods from the village and some compensation, or punishment, must be given!” The crowd yelled and hissed at him, one person in the crowd calling him “a useless bastard” - this drew sporadic laughs through the crowd. Naull also laughed. She caught Regdar’s eyes and the man nodded for her to join them. She took a moment to consider possible issues with weight but shrugged it off. She left the horses the two men had. They’d returned to the village and had been stabled well enough - both were a little uncertain around Naull but she took little offense. She was accustomed to that and when she’d given each a good petting, they’d warmed up to her. She wondered if Erasmus just needed good pets as she stepped up with her companions, shifting through the crowd to reach the gallows. Jozan spoke. “I have found the spirit of Lidda to be honest and good,” he looked out into the group and then back to Tomah. “As have my companions.” Regdar nodded. Naull did as well, addressing the crowd as she spoke. “Lidda is a brave, kind person and deserves your understanding. As she’d admitted, yes, she took from the people of Fairbye - but only to survive. Provision-less, uncertain of her own survival, how could any of us say we wouldn’t do the same?” She watched as the heads nodded in response. A few people seemed set in their desire to see her swing, though; stern faces that shook their heads and mumbled to themselves. “Yes, well,” Tomah began but she shot him a withering look and the man stopped mid-sentence. Naull continued. “Jozan - Father Jozan has already explained the situation; the goblins and the caves, Lidda’s difficulty with supplies and needing to steal to survive. Whatever goods were taken can be paid for. This woman,” she turned to gesture to Lidda, who still had her arms crossed and a deeply sour look on her face, “has done so much more than their worth. She’s saved your lives. Is that not enough?” Jozan stepped forward to stand beside Naull. “Pelor grants me many gifts and one of these is the clear mind to see the truth.” He gave Naull a look and nodded. “Even though Lidda has committed a crime, for which she has confessed, I believe that her penance is finished - through service she has proven her sincere regret for what she did.” Naull heard Regdar make a whispered noise and assumed, since she couldn’t see, that Lidda had rolled her eyes at that comment. The young mage smiled. She really is just a bit too much. “Burgomeister Tomah.” Jozan turned to the man and he snapped to attention. “Let it be known now - Lidda is, in the eyes of Pelor and myself at least, unburdened by the weight of her previous actions against the people of Fairbye. Let that assist your determination.” He leveled the man with a serious look and the official seemed very uncertain of himself. The crowd murmured. “I-I am the Burgomeister of Fairbye and my decision on this matter is final.” He looked over to Lidda, who surprisingly didn’t make a rude gesture or foul comment. She just locked eyes with the man and nodded. Naull thought the halfling looked very brave in that moment; ready to accept whatever came her way. Though she might be fast enough to bolt into the woods before the people could catch her again, Naull thought. “Lidda has proven her regret - I don’t think she needs to be further punished.” “Yes!” Lidda shouted. She turned to the crowd. “See? Now where would you be if I didn’t help? Spider food!” Some of the crowd gasped and Regdar scrunched his face up in aggravation at the outburst. But the halfling was far from done it seemed. “Maybe next time a weary, hungry, thirsty traveler comes into your little town and takes some food you might ask them what’s going on before trying to string them up. And, maybe it’s a good idea to have a long chat with that merchant who passed through here - since he’s the lying bastard who actually stole things of importance. But what do I know?” She put a look of mock hurt on her face. “I’m just a simple adventurer, trying to make the world a better place with my humble acts of kindness.” She moved to wipe a non-existent tear from her eye and Jozan cut in. “Okay, I think they understand Lidda.” “Oh, I’m not done.” She replied. “You’re done.” Regdar said sternly, moving over to lead the halfling off the gallows. Naull laughed, shaking her head.
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