The Savage Caves - Epilogue
Tazerg stood before the Spider Mother, the amulet around his neck feeling much heavier than he’d expected it to. The massive spider’s eight eyes drank him in and though Tazerg did feel fear looking into those empty eyes, he also felt comfort. The Spider Mother and her brood were never cruel or vicious. They just were. Not like the bugbears; killing, hurting for pleasure. Tazerg was happy they were dead - proud that his blow had killed Rezrek and that all but one of the bugbears suffered. They were not goblins, nor were they the kind hu-mans with their strange pink flesh. But he’d never need to worry about them again. He turned back to regard the great beast before him. The goblin was happy she’d not lost too many of her children and that the amulet was back where it belonged - with Tazerg, as his fathers before him. He reached out a small hand, his mind touching hers gently. Whereas Rezrek’s thoughts were violent and overwhelming, Tazerg’s were calm and kind. He passed into her mind like a gentle breeze; a whisper from an old friend. Though he might not have words for it, he felt as if he were the steward of the spiders; protecting them as they protected and served his own people. He placed his hand on her strangely shaped head and closed his eyes, letting the warmth of the amulet spread over his chest as he thought his feelings to her. Mother rest. Home safe. Home…safe…, came the alien feeling into Tazerg’s mind. He was comforted by it, even as the swarming spiderlings - many twice his size at least - shifted and moved around the two creatures as they communed in silence. Peace, relatively, had returned to the cavedeep goblins and they could begin the process of rebuilding their people. The goblin female - Kekpek - who had led the group to kill Fidul waited patiently outside of the spider’s lair - Tazerg had told her to wait, though he had little fear of the spiders. He held the amulet. They would not attack him. The Spider Mother knew his heart. The goblins were her children too. Tazerg stayed like that for a long time - just holding his hand against the Spider Mother and feeling the gentle thrum of her movements and simple thoughts. He was grateful for this connection and her. His father had been killed and Tazerg missed him very much - the hole of his loss would take a long time to close over, if it did at all. But he would protect his people, like his father tried to. His father would feel pride to see his son, the little goblin knew. Tazerg was chieftain. The goblins would be protected. He stepped away, nodding to the massive creature and smiling. Its mandibles clicked and shifted, as if tasting the air, and her expression was impossible to read. But the little goblin knew her heart - safe again. As it should be. He turned, hearing the great Spider Mother shift away and return to her grand cave and the large cluster of eggs he’d spied as Tazerg spoke with her. The Spider Mother would replenish that which was lost. And so would Tazerg. He reached back to Kekpek, taking her clawed hand in his own before embracing her. She was strong - strong like Tazerg was strong. And brave. And the idea of children with her felt warm and comforting and he smiled. And she smiled back. “Tazerg see Nelnek?” She asked, nodding to the new chieftain. “Tazerg speak to Nelnek. Bring goblins together.” He replied. “Kekpek go with Tazerg.” She patted a small stone dagger at her side and nodded. The goblin chieftain laughed, which echoed in the deep of the mountain where they made their home. “Kekpek go with Tazerg.” He said. “Make no fight, no trouble.” She shrugged. Tazerg laughed again.
Leden watched as the group of goblins gathered, rubbing the soreness from her healed leg. The human had brought magic and kept her from dying; she was grateful for that but didn’t feel comfortable around them. They were always gibbering in their language and though Leden knew some of it, she didn’t like to speak it. The words felt strange, heavy in her mouth and on her tongue. And even if she hated the other bugbears and was glad to know they were dead, she didn’t trust the humans. Or the goblins. They were not her kind - not that it made much difference. She snarled. The weak were hurt by the strong. Loud sounds of goblins talking floated up to her from a perch in the rock face and she gently stroked the crossbow. The tallest human, whose name she didn’t remember or care to, had let her keep the weapon. The bugbear bristled at the idea of needing permission to keep something that was already hers but she didn’t argue. They were powerful enough to kill Rezrek and heal her - she couldn’t stop them. Leden agreed with the humans that she would leave the village of Fairbye alone - they would’ve let her die otherwise, she knew. She wanted to leave the caves. There was nothing there for her now and she hated being alone. A small smile spread over her face as the bugbear reached back, drawing a very small bundle to herself. Wrapped in dirty cloth, covered in blood and filth, a mewling little creature growled lightly at her. She bared her fangs at it but not in any show of anger or dominance. The small pup yipped in return, growling and whimpering in hunger. She brought a small bit of meat from a pack and let it fall into the open pup’s jaws. Though very young, its teeth were still quite sharp and the bugbear made sure her fingers were clear of its snapping jaws. As she looked down at it, the furred skin of its snout curled back from its head and revealed the wet muscle and bone beneath it. Rezrek had no idea that Ripper was a mother. He’d never entered into her lair where she’d brought most of her goblin kills, had never taken a moment to think when they’d arrived why the beast had taken to long days in the pit’s back cave. But Leden had. And now that Rezrek and the others were dead, only she remained to take care of it. She would be its mother. And it would grow up, just as Ripper did. Strong, powerful. And protective of Leden. The bugbear lay back, holding the pup close to her breast and listening. She would stay here a little longer, gather food from the goblins and then make her way out of this deep, dark place. Leden was ready to see the surface again, even if the light did hurt her eyes sometimes. A smile spread over the bugbear’s face, her tongue running over her small yellowed fangs. In the bugbear language, she whispered soft things to the pup. Wishes for strength. For a full belly and warmth. She gently kissed the small animal’s head, pulling away before it could nip her chin with its sharp little fangs. Leden laughed, looking down into the beast’s bright yellow eyes. “Little Fang.”
The villagers were kind enough to send the group off with some more provisions and a little bit of wealth; it had been much less than Lidda had wanted but she couldn’t complain too much. She wasn’t swinging from a rope and having her eyes pecked out by hungry crows, so there was that - she’d keep her complaints minimal. They’d found a bit of treasure from Rezrek’s group, as well, and that would see them through some more comfortable times in New Koratia when they arrived, she thought. Just because she thought she couldn’t complain didn’t mean she shouldn’t. She had an image to keep up, after all. “Wow, a waterskin - no wine, no beer, nothing. How do these people even live?” She loudly proclaimed, shifting uncomfortably in the saddle behind Jozan. The priest chuckled but kept his focus on the dirt road leading back to the one he and Regdar had planned their trip for. Lidda sighed heavily, letting the waterskin fall to the side of the horse they rode. “No cheese, either. I can’t imagine - can you, Naull? No cheese, for the gods' sake.” She looked over to the mage and stuck her tongue out, mocking a dying face as the girl laughed. “Dramatic but cheese is good.” Regdar added, looking over his shoulder at Naull. Lidda had insisted the two of them ride together. Partially because Jozan was smaller and that meant the halfling wouldn’t be quite as crushed or awkwardly trying to hold onto the big, bulk warrior if they needed to ride fast at any point. But also because Lidda liked the way Naull looked at Regdar. It was very clear to her that the two of them might’ve had a bit more of a bonding experience in the caves than Jozan and she had. Lidda was happy to play matchmaker - at least in some capacity. It was up to them to do anything about it. “So, Lidda - we have a small detour to take before we head to New Koratia.” Jozan said after a few minutes of quiet that had passed between the group. “A temple that needs to be blessed? Another village capturing a poor halfling who was only trying to survive? More spiders? Please, please let it be spiders.” She smiled sarcastically, patting the unarmored priest on the side. “Please, Lidda. I’m not the horse, you don’t need to kick my sides.” “Sure thing, Father.” She held her hands up when he gave her a look. “Jozan, Jozan.” When the priest had turned back around she smiled. At least the trip would be interesting if she could get a rise out of him this easily. She liked the man but he didn’t need to know that just yet. She shifted as he continued; she didn’t ride horses and the constant shifting was less than enjoyable on her thighs and butt. “Naull would like to see her Master before we make our way - a short detour, a day at most.” He pointed off into the distance towards the tower and Lidda’s heart dropped. “A wizard? Really?” She sighed, annoyed. Naull laughed. “Where did you think I learned my craft, Lidda?” She patted her bag, slung over the back of the horse. “I don’t know, somewhere very far away and secluded. I don’t know anything about wizards except they’re usually old, lecherous men with too much time on their hands and huge…egos.” She shot Naull a raised eyebrow and the girl shook her head, rolling her eyes as she gripped tighter to Regdar. The warrior did not hide his smile well at all. “Larktiss is a good man - old, yes, though I wouldn’t call him secluded. He often performs services for the local people - and requests little of them in return. He deserves to know what happened to the owner of the ring you gave me.” “The ring I was forced to give you.” Lidda corrected, greatly exaggerating the forced part. She was a little grumpy about the fact but at least they’d got some payment - the adventurers that the bugbears had killed had some coin in their equipment but not much. “I’m sure that Larktiss will be very appreciative.” Naull said. A light brightened in Lidda’s eyes. “Oh! Now that sounds like money to me.” She smiled, rubbing her hands together. “More likely a well-made basket, I’d think,” came the reply from the young mage. Lidda sighed. “Damn it.” She slumped back, still holding onto the priest. This was going to be such a long journey.
Jozan stood with Regdar outside, the beginning of twilight settling on the small estate of Naull’s master Larktiss. The girl had asked for a little privacy from the two men and Lidda expressed no interest in going into the home of a wizard - “I don’t want to offend anyone and get turned into a pig or something” was the reason she provided and then promptly disappeared. Naull had explained the situation to the priest, who agreed it was prudent to have two strangers wait outside for them to talk about things. Jozan was only too happy to get off of the horse and not have Lidda constantly, accidentally, kicking or shifting against him. The halfling was very good at reminding him she was there. Aches and pains from the trip to Fairbye also seemed to have resurfaced. His thighs hurt once more and though Pelor’s grace helped push that away, he suspected it would be a long trip - at least this would be one with a little more company. Jozan was happy to remain outside as well. Though his interactions with Naull hadn’t been unkind, they had still been strained and the idea of meeting the person who taught her magic felt exhausting. He was happy to be out in the coolness of the evening - just relaxing and listening to the sounds of nature around him. Regdar took a deep breath and Jozan cleared his throat. “I apologize for the loss of your shield, Regdar. I’ll make sure to replace it as soon as we reach New Koratia. I know it isn’t the same but please allow me to compensate you.” The warrior looked him over for a moment and Jozan felt uneasy by the older man’s scrutiny. Though they had nothing in common save their ages, which even now likely didn’t match - if Calmet was alive, that is - Jozan felt as if Regdar looked much like his old mentor did when he was preparing for a vicious comment. The priest braced himself even as he chided his own ridiculous behaviour. This man was his companion. He wouldn’t be cruel. “It was lost to save you,” Regdar said with a somewhat sad smile. “I can’t think of a better use for a shield.” He gently patted the shorter priest on the shoulder and looked off into the growing gloom once more. Jozan stole a look back towards the tower, seeing nothing but the light from inside flickering and shifting. He turned back to Regdar. “What do you think of Naull?” The question stayed in the air between them for a long moment. Regdar looked uncomfortable and though it was difficult to tell in the gathering dim of night, the priest thought the older man might be blushing at the question. That couldn’t be the case, though. Could it? Did Regdar- “I think she’s a fine mage.” The man finally said, though the comment felt curt. “I don’t know much about magic, so I can’t say if she’s skilled or not but everything I’ve seen shows me that she’s a capable woman - capable mage, a capable mage. I’m lucky - We’re lucky she came with us.” He took a deep breath and sighed. “Without her I don’t think we would’ve lived. And that frustrates me.” “Frustrates you?” Jozan asked, raising an eyebrow at the grizzled warrior. “I’ve fought for many years - wars, skirmishes, all manner of combat. I can ride a horse with skill, use most weapons you might encounter and even repair my own equipment to a degree. But that girl?” He turned to look at the heavy wooden door leading into Naull’s home. “She can bend the world to her will with a smile, a few words and a dead cricket.” He chuckled. “She certainly is something.” Jozan added. The warrior continued to look at the door and smiled. “She certainly is.” His tone held a wistfulness that banished any doubts from Jozan’s mind about how the older man might feel about their mage companion. Jozan smiled. “What?” Regdar asked. “Oh? Nothing, nothing. I was just thinking how much more lively the trip to New Koratia might be now that we have Lidda.” He paused and raised an eyebrow at Regdar. “And Naull.” The warrior narrowed his eyes at Jozan. “I think you’ve been spending too much time with Lidda.” “Probably, yes. But you do have to admit - she’s quite perceptive.” Regdar rolled his eyes at this and Jozan chuckled, giving the warrior his own firm pat on the shoulder as the two lapsed into silence, the night around them settling swiftly and quietly. Jozan, for the first time in many years, felt a lightness in him. He hoped it would last.
Naull embraced Larktiss for what felt like hours; her slender arms squeezed the boney, frail form of her aged mentor so tightly that the wizard could feel each breath leave the man’s body. She pulled him away and smiled wide, tears of genuine joy streaming down her full cheeks as she looked into his eyes. Larktiss, for his part, had been surprised to see the former apprentice so soon - or at all. Naull was the only student who had ever left, even if it was just for a few days, and returned. She was alive. And though the gifts she came bearing were not happy ones, they had brought a flood of tears to the old wizard’s eyes when she presented them. “This doesn't remove the pain of Farah’s death,” she’d said as she lay the ring in the man’s quivering palm. “But it might give you some peace, knowing that she's finally home.” These words had broken Larktiss for a long moment, leaving him sobbing and inconsolable save for her hug. The older mage had put on tea, insisting that the others from Naull’s adventuring party come in to join them. He had questions, he’d said, but Naull explained their need to hurry - not entirely truthful, she understood, but she didn’t need Larktiss trying to keep them here for long. She had a life to live. “Bugbears.” Larktiss said in between small sips of his bitter tea. Naull, who was fond of more sugar than tea, gently cupped the warm cup and sipped. She nodded. “Uncertain where they came from but they’d taken over the goblins. Giant spiders, krenshar - from what Regdar said it was - and all manner of strangeness deep in the ground.” She shook her head. “I feel so unprepared.” “You? No.” He said with sarcasm and she rolled her eyes jokingly. “You’re a powerful mage, Naull. You aren’t omniscient, though.” He smiled. “Perhaps it might be wise to detail your travels in a journal? And I have books of local flora and fauna if you’d like to take them - that at least will give you a base to work from in your studies.” “My studies?” She asked with a raised eyebrow. “Of course, girl! Just because you are no longer my apprentice, for less than a week I would like to add, it doesn’t mean you are allowed to neglect your studies. Learning is a thing all people do for their lives; not just a brief part of them.” She smiled, nodding. Larktiss, she mused as she sipped again. Same as ever. He was right, though, she knew. It had been less than a week since she’d left the tower and yet here she was, drinking tea with her mentor and discussing all manner of exciting and horrifying things. She had so much more to learn and the thought made her mind buzz with possibility. Larktiss stroked his long beard and regarded Farah’s ring for a long time. “I’m going to New Koratia,” Naull said after a moment. She briefly expected the same kind of resistance she’d gotten before but the man was silent. He smiled. “Of course you are, girl. You barely made it a stone’s throw away before returning. And here I was, just beginning to enjoy the peace and quiet of my home for the first time in fifteen years.” He chuckled. Reaching over the table, he placed his old hand over hers. She smiled in return and he rubbed the back of her hand gently, like a father might. “Please be safe, Naull. You’ve returned and that has given my heart more hope than I can express to you. But now the pain of losing you feels even more real.” “Oh, Larkitss.” She said softly and nodded. “I will be safe - and protected. My companions are not only skilled but clever, resourceful, and powerfully motivated.” “Adventurers have a bad habit of getting themselves killed.” He countered. “Thankfully I have a habit of getting myself into and out of difficult situations pretty well.” She smiled. The old mage shook his head. “Such confidence. I cannot say where it came from.” “My mother.” She replied, smiling. She brushed her hand against the earrings and looked into Larktiss’ eyes. He seemed content but tired. A flash of worry spread over her face as she imagined this being the last time she saw the old mage. Not because of any worry or tragedy befalling her but because of his age. Larktiss, like many old mages, kept himself alive longer than was usual for mundane people; a mix of magic and research allowed them to extend their lives to considerable lengths. But even that had its limits, she knew. He may well die of natural causes before she returns. “I cannot thank you more than I have.” Naull said. “I do not wish more thanks, child.” He waved her words away. He reached out his hand, dropping Farah’s ring into Naull’s palm and smiling. She went to say something but he silenced her with a soft shake of his head. “A gift. I am very certain Farah would’ve found a deep kinship with you. You go, live your life - I just want to know you’re happy.” “You are such a large part of that happiness, Larktiss. Mentor. Friend. Father.” She felt tears build in her eyes and saw the same for Larktiss. He rubbed his eyes with the backs of his hands and sighed. “Oh, bah! Enough of this crying, girl. I’m too old for tears anymore.” He laughed. Naull laughed as well, calm and comforted in this place that had been her home for so long. She looked to the window, seeing the darkness of the night like a blanket over the world. This had been her home, yes, and she loved it. But out there a new home waited - the road, ever winding and ever stretching into the unknown. She sipped her tea. Gods but it was all so exciting!
Regdar rubbed his scruffy face and sighed. It had been more than a tenday since he’d properly shaved and the stubble was now quite thick. He had no issues with beards but had rarely had one - the Duke’s demanded their soldiers be clean shaven and it was a habit that had stuck with the old warrior all these years since. The morning light slipped through the trees around Larktiss’ tower and the four of them were busy getting their travel preparations settled; Lidda had complained about the hard road ahead with only two horses and Naull’s mentor had gifted them a pony and a horse. The red-brown horse that Naull had chosen was named Erasmus and hearing it made Regdar chuckle. Of course a wizard would name their horse something like that. He smiled watching the young woman try to guide the horse from the small stables the estate held and he moved over to assist when it was clear it wasn’t going easily. He reached out his hand and took a deep breath, speaking in as soft a voice as he could. “Shh. Shh.” He smiled, inclining his head as he motioned for Naull to do the same. The young mage nodded, catching on much faster than Regdar might’ve expected and she let him take the reins. The old leather felt good in his calloused hands and he gently sidled up next to the horse, which nickered and snorted as he ran his free hand over the animal’s side. Erasmus was soft and sturdy - a perfect horse for Naull, he thought. It fit her. He’d had some skill with horses and thought that if he hadn’t joined the service then perhaps he’d have liked to raise horses. He chuckled and patted the beast after several long moments of soothing words and gesturing for Naull to come closer. She placed a thin hand on the horse and it didn’t turn away. She looked deep into the creature’s eyes and Regdar nodded. “Treat him well, yeah?” He nodded to her. “He’s an old horse,” Naull said and kept her hand gently petting the beast. He sniffled and butted against her with his large head. She chuckled. “Just because he’s older doesn’t mean he’s of any less use.” The warrior felt his own weight in those words; he spoke as much about the horse as he did himself. A quiet moment stretched between the two and Naull reached over, placing a small hand over Regdar’s. He looked into her eyes - green as the deepest wood the man had ever seen in his long years. There was something soft and powerful in her gaze. He smiled. “Are you speaking about the horse, Regdar?” She asked, smiling in return. He felt himself blushing but didn’t turn away. No sense in trying to deny it, he guessed. The warrior shook his head. She was a younger woman but there was something deeper there than just youth. “I’m looking forward to the journey to New Koratia.” She spoke softly, turning to look back at the simple road that led away from the great tower looming behind them. In the distance, Lidda rode the pony back and forth with Jozan scolding the halfling woman for overworking the small creature. “Worry about your own horse, yeah?” She made a rude gesture and laughed. Jozan sighed. “You know, I am as well.” Regdar said with a laugh. “It’ll be nothing if not interesting.” Naull gestured for Regdar to lean down. She placed a warm hand on his stubble and smiled. “I know. I need to shave-,” he began but she shook her head to silence him. “Oh, don’t do it for me.” She paused and smiled. “But if you wanted to, I wouldn’t be opposed.” He raised his eyebrow and she laughed. It would be a very interesting journey.
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