The day that Jarrod completed the Grotto of the Goblins

5 Days travel to the East of Woodend Village

A wizened goblin sat on its throne, glaring at all who surrounded him attending court.

“How!? How could that whelp, best the entire gauntlet? He beat traps, he beat ambushes, he beat our own Champion Garethuk! Then at the end, he uses an ancient rule and bests even me in a game of chance. Sheer luck, but non the less he managed it. And at level two!? Level two!? It’s just unheard of.”

The rant had been going on like this for at least an hour, and it likely had just as long to run its course. Slowly the goblin elite started to tune their chieftain out, even if he had power, he had an ego the size of a small moon to accompany it, as well as a complete inability to accept defeat. They swiftly found their attention re-arrested a mere ten minutes later when with a loud clap and a sizzle of ozone the entire court snapped and looked to a pile of smouldering ash where one of the most powerful fighters had stood only ten minutes earlier.

“Oh good. Now that I have your attention properly, my dear people. You will go forth, as required, you will find this human whelp and bring him back. There is only one way to correct this, we will offer him as a blood-sacrifice to Elouan.

I want each of you to arrange a squad of ten and go hunting. Now go.”

With that dismissal he spun, turned his back in such a show of outrageous disrespect and left the hall the rest of the course was gathered in.

---

It was a cold crisp morning, wisps of fog still clinging to the ground, the corner of buildings and woven between the cobbles of the streets of Prestaster. The capital city of this shard with nearly 50,000 souls was still fast asleep with the sun still below the horizon. The only movement to be seen by any observers would be paired patrols of watchmen strolling through the streets, cats and vermin running through the alleyways and of course the guards standing ready at the port on the Chaos Rift.

The guardsmen had their noses start to twitch; smells of bread ovens started to permeate the air. As the city started to come awake, ever so slowly, the guardsmen patrolling were replaced with traders, vendors and various merchants setting up their stalls along the main thoroughfares. They all had wagons that folded out into stands, some richly decorated and others more simply, with a huge variety of goods on display. Some held fresh fruit and vegetables, some had carved wooden items, others held gaudy ornamentation and still others had jewellery. A few even held a sign that proclaimed all of the items on display were magic in nature.

Henrietta had just finished cleaning up her mixing bowls and spoons, various spatulas and tins when the first batch should be ready. Brushing a dusting of flour off her hands, she withdrew a batch of small dense sweet buns a smell of sugar and cinnamon wafting into the kitchen. She took a small one at the front of her ceramic baking tray off to give it a taste test, a small smile crinkling her aged face. These would be perfect to test out today, a new recipe, she should be able to price them for a silver higher than she had last week. This new cinnamon from that new shard opened up just rimwards of this one really did taste wonderful. It had a slightly deeper nuttier hint to it. If these did manage to sell well now, then when the Festival or Horach came in three weeks’ time she would be on for a real winner!

She had about another 45 minutes before the prime loaves would be ready and it gave her a chance to get fully washed up and start cleaning her floors. She needed the place looking its best both inside and out to draw as many customers as possible over the few days of the festival and the days preceding as the city swelled to capacity and beyond.

Four doors down was a completely different story. Richard a successful candlemaker was most definitely in over his head. He had taken a loan on from a few shady figures to expand his business in this new shard, unfortunately for him it was just too new a shard. There simply wasn’t the money here or the super high ranks coming to retire yet. He had not seen a single bronze rank, the governor was only steel himself, easily the most powerful individual on the shard.

The poor man’s wife on the other hand was furious. She had realised finally what happened when she went shopping for some cloth to make just basic simple clothes yesterday and the clothier informed her that Richard hadn’t paid any of the credit bill yet, most definitely not the full amount as he had been telling her. She however was not understanding on where the money had gone, assuming that Richard’s head had been turned by a young lady that he smiled at frequently in the main marketplace. To this end she was currently throwing anything and everything within range at Richard, who to his shame said nothing. The truth was more embarrassing and would result in even more damage than this misunderstanding, he was sure. What could he say? Sorry Jess, I took a loan out from some super shady chaps who are most definitely going to at the least break my knees and at the worst burn this and my entire life down? No, it’s better that you think this of me now, and have chance to get out and not have them follow her. Just don’t say anything, or she’ll know I’m lying.

“What!? Richard what? Why? Why do this? Have I not been good to you for over 200 years? I stopped my own progress to set up with you. I gave up dungeoneering to raise your children, and this is how you repay me?

Mother take you.”

With that final exclamation she threw a very heavy, glass ornament straight at Richard that shattered across his chest.

---

Guardsman Petrov was having a very dull day. He had pulled the nightshift yet again, why did Captain Smith hate him so? All because he took his daughter out on that date and didn’t contact her again. It wasn’t his fault; she was easily the most dull person he had ever met. He took her out to dinner, somewhere fancy that cost him the entire share of the last dungeon he had dove, and it was a tin dungeon as well, not even just a wood or a stone one! Then they went for a walk through the merchant’s district doing some late-night window shopping, and a walk through the central gardens. It should’ve been a great night, topped off with a kiss at the end, or at least that was his plan. He didn’t manage to enjoy any of it however down to just how dull she had been. There were two topics of conversation, her cat. Or also what her cat likes to do.

Now the fallout from that disastrous date was he got stuck on this nightshift, on probably the most boring guard’s duty in the city. He got to watch the Chaos Rift, and literally the only vessels that approached were those pre-scheduled. It was neither cheap nor easy to ply those currents through the turbulent chaos, so having small exploring vessels land at recently minted, non-home-base shards just didn’t happen. They weren’t due any vessels for a fortnights time at least – the next one being the rich and bored travelling in for the festival. There was a cabal of sorts, a group that had nothing better to do or spend their money on than travelling around all of the shards and experiencing as many different festivals as possible. They were by far the worst people to have to deal with in his position, which was why he was on guard duty here he was sure of it.

Ah well, it could always be worse. He could be like Nigel, who was currently on latrine digging duty, likely to be extended by another month. He had failed yet again at his capstone wooden tier challenge, the Captain had assumed by now that the poor bloke was simply not up to scratch – making him do the dungeon solo last time. Only lunatics or those with broken classes could even manage a solo clear.

Anyway, back to watching this portal for another 3 hours till he could get off shift, enjoy a bath and some of mama Henrietta’s fresh loaves. Those loaves he was dreaming of were only her cheap ones as well, with new and better ingredients coming in as well as the chance of new recipes in time for the festival, it’s fair to say he was getting more and more excited to try her new recipes. It was one of only a few small points of joy he found at the moment in the endless drudgery and monotony of the night shift.

So wrapped up in his own world daydreaming of fresh bread, cinnamon rolls and the potential of one of those delightful cheese scones he missed a ripple in the rift. A minor ripple to be sure, akin to when a small stone is tossed into a placid lake. It dissipated after four or five concentric rings had formed. With missing the ripple, which was more obvious, he definitely missed the shadow that dropped to the ground, and its movement as it scurried off hiding behind a crate, waiting to coalesce into a more solid form.