DAY 29

I hadn't left my clearing in a few days after spending most of it trying to smush together various things in a halfassed attempt at science. I'd managed to make myself a small hearth inside the cabin, and a forge outside. It was a small and crude affair, burning wood rather than coke or charcoal because I realized I had no idea how either of those were actually made. I was just now about to light it up for the first time, with my single chunk of ore and a pile of wood ready.

Sparking the fire took three tries even with my fine flint and I gave the fire lots of time to get going before I started feeding more wood in and pumping the rabbitskin bellows. The ore took a very long time to start heating up. I thought nothing was happening for a few moments, and then very slowly it started changing colour. This had to be at least four times longer than Jordan's forge could do it. After far too much time I was left with a single ingot and a pile of slag. I let go of the bellows and left it to cool down.

It hadn't felt right to go back to Jordan until I proved this to myself. I needed a win, proof that I could make this work. Even though he was a great guy, I didn't want to be reliant on him. I might ask him who his coke dealer was, because this process took way too long.

I grabbed the few things I was going to take, such as a basket of various junk I'd experimented with like some braided bracelets of sinew and small bone, one necklace with an aptly named shiny rock, and a few crude wood carvings of chess pieces. Well, they were supposed to be chess pieces, but they were mostly sorted into square bases with blob tops and blob bases with square tops. Blacksmith experience had little to no impact on carving wood. Maybe there was no game model for them the same way there was for a stool. I tossed the ingot into my pack now that it had cooled down and was ready to head out.

The walk to Jordan's cabin was uneventful. I didn't even see any rabbits. Maybe they were getting suspicious and staying further off the trails. I could hear the sound of hammer on metal before I could even see his cabin. Better than a sign saying he was open.

The place smelled different. Many people had come through here in the last few days. I guess being a folk hero had its perks. Voices could be heard as I got closer.

"Jordan, it's Karl." I didn't want to startle them.

A moment later someone emerged, Lou, the boy who had been wounded during the hunt. He was wearing an old apron and was covered in soot. It actually made a lot of sense that he would be here, even if it made me feel less special. As much as Jordan claimed he was fine with his family gone, he didn't waste time when the opportunity came up to find a temporary replacement.

"Karl, you...wow." Jordan walked out, wiping his face with a towel.

"Good to see you too." As he stepped closer I noticed it was now only a few inches shorter than he was. A few weeks ago I had been barely up to his elbows.

"Karl?" Lou was staring at me like he had only just now recognized me.

"How's the bite healing?"

"It's almost healed now. What happened to you? Is this some spell?"

"Goblins grow fast. Anyways I was hoping Jordan would be able to help me decide on some prices for this stuff. I'm going to see if I can sell any of it in the town."

"Sure. Come in the cabin, it's almost time for lunch anyways."

"You look busy." The crates were stacked up high by the door. His volume of orders might have doubled.

He tossed his towel onto a crate and Lou took off his apron. We went into the cabin to sit.

"Lord Wolsey has commissioned me to outfit a new group of guardsmen to be posted at the way station down the road. In case of another monster attack he wants to have men who can respond quickly."

"That's great."

"He agreed to apprentice me." Lou said, as he stirred the stew pot.

"Let me see what you've got there."

I put the basket onto the table and he picked out a bracelet.

"Simple, but well made. Between five and ten silver. This necklace, maybe fifteen if someone thinks it is pretty. Oh, you made the basket? Twenty five." He held up the misshapen chess piece and frowned. "You have been busy."

"Those ones are just tests, they didn't work. Do you know if there are any crafting books? Lists of things that can be made?"

"For sure at the castle. The court has a large library. I don't have any here."

"Do you think there would be any problems if I went there?"

"You should go with one of the wagons. Every Friday they make the trip. Going alone might not be safe. Many there will have never seen a goblin outside of the war."

"I'll do that, thanks. By the way, what were those special trees you were looking for? I was thinking if I found some across the river, we could see if someone wanted enough to pay to haul them back. I forget the name though."

"Iron wood. They are like iron, but alive. Very easy to see once you get close. We could make a lot of gold if you find even one. The castle always has need."

"Do the names Rlarian or Arvyen mean anything to you?"

"House Rlarian? Their Lord died on a skirmish during the war when I was just a kid. I think they have some family in the castle, which is where the god Arvyen has a jewelery shop. I haven't thought about them in years. Where did you hear about them?"

I fished the signet ring out and held it up.

"Oh, that is a rare prize if it's real. Don't show that to too many people until you talk to the family. Their Lord died fighting goblins, and patriots would be tempted to take it from you. A genuine signet ring is rare indeed. They're not a wealthy House anymore, but they would pay dearly to get that back. You might have a tough time convincing them it's real, unless they summon a god to verify it."

"How could a god verify it?"

"They know the secrets of the world. A master jeweler could do the same, but any god would just know if it's real as soon as they looked at it. In any case it could be a tense situation."

"I'll be careful."

After a short lunch I headed out. Assuming I could find some buyers for this junk I might be able to get started on a plan to get to that castle. As I passed the waystation I could see a few builders already expanding the building, adding what looked like a watchtower. Although they had been caught off guard they weren't wasting any time.

In the town square Graroch was nowhere to be seen. I made my way through a few stalls and carts, browsing and haggling. Surprisingly nobody was much interested in trading a potato for a bracelet. After a fierce bit of haggling, I traded the basket and all the junk to a farmer in return for a bottle of mixed seeds he claimed would be good for a small garden.

After a bit more wandering I found myself in front of a wagon draped with fabrics of all kinds and colours. The owner was an elderly lady who carried herself with a very haughty air as she sat sewing.

"Good day...sir." She recovered from her shock smoothly as she looked up.

"Hello. What would you recommend for me. I need some new clothes for the city, and another pair for a crafting shop."

"We do not barter. I have no need for rabbit skins."

"I have coins" I jingled the pouch and she perked up and put aside the piece she was sewing.

"Very good. Look here, velvet is a classic, and at only thirty gold and fifty it is a fine value." This was a full length green velvet robe. I didn't have the ego to even pretend I would look good in it.

"I'm looking for something a bit less...hideous. Maybe a separate shirt and pants."

"Perhaps these over here." She picked up a wool jacket and pants. Dark grey, and a simple cut, but well made. When I nodded a white shirt and pair of shorts joined the pile.

"Those should be fine. Do you have any aprons?"

She lead me around to the other side of the wagon, where there was more utilitarian clothing. I selected a thick leather apron with many pocket, and after glancing down I selected another tunic. My stolen one was almost ready to fall apart.

"That will be a total of eighteen gold sixty."

I fished out a handful of gold coins, suspecting that I might be getting fleeced, but I was in a good mood. With any luck when I got to the castle I'd be getting another fat sack of gold anyways. At the rates people were charging for things in the market, the sixty gold would be a few weeks of expenses.

"I don't have any silver, but could I ask you some questions and we round it up to nineteen gold?"

"Certainly. What would you like to know?"

"I'm looking for some maps, and some information about a wagon that might be going to the castle?"

"The clerk of House Wolsey should have some maps. We leave from the square tomorrow one hour after dawn."

"Oh, you're going? Could I ride there with you if it's not too much trouble?"

"I suppose so, but I cannot wait. If you are not here we will leave without you."

"That is fine. I'll be going now, thank you."

I scandalized a few people when I stripped off my tunic and put on the new clothes. The working clothes I stuffed into my pack. It's not like I had anything indecent to show.

On the way to the House I detoured into an alley and left the old tunic hanging off the laundry line. I didn't remember which one I had grabbed it from.

As I approached I waved at the guard.

"Hello, I'm looking for the clerk?"

"To the right, first door on the left." He pulled the door open for me. "You're that goblin what lead Sir Boureche to the beast?"

"I am."

"Fine work. It killed my cousin, Auggie."

"I'm sorry for your loss."

It was nice to see that my good deeds were having some influence on their attitudes. I passed a few servants and another guard in the hall. They seemed cheery.

The clerk's door was open, showing a heavyset middle aged man in a heavy brown robe sitting at a desk writing something.

Many bookshelves and racks of scrolls lined the walls. He seemed quite focused on his writing, so I stayed quiet and scanned the book titles. Most appeared to be census and tax information, with some harvest reports and land deeds. A very large and ornate map of the region covered one wall, taller than I was. I was hoping for something more packable.

"Oh my." The clerk exclaimed as he looked up.

"Hello. I was wondering if you might have some maps of the region I could buy?"

"Maps? Yes, well no. The recent, uh...monster hunters have bought all I had prepared."

"How much would it cost for some new ones for me? Smaller ones for my pack."

"One gold a sheet. I can make you one copy of the town and countryside, and one for the castle, and one for the county. Another gold if you will be needing a book to keep them in." He indicated a leather-bound folio on a shelf nearby.

"How long will they take to copy?"

"I will have them ready for tomorrow afternoon." He glanced at my coinpurse. "Although for an extra gold I can finish them overnight."

"Six gold if you can have them ready for dawn with one of those books."

"Indeed I can, sir. Is there anything else I can help you with?"

"Do you have any books on the House Rlarian? Their history and current status?"

"I do, but that one is not for sale. If you would care to read it I could have it sent to the study?"

"That would be great. Thanks." I handed over the coins and he made them vanish behind his desk with the speed of long practice.

"My pardon, sir. I have forgotten to introduce myself. I am Nesbitt Wolsey, might I ask your name?"

"Karl Mazankowski, I'll probably be the only goblin in there."

"My pleasure. I shall send a page to the study shortly."

I went back into the hall and took my time. A bell chimed and a boy scampered out of a section of wall I hadn't realized was a door. He quickly went into the clerk's office.

One other person was in the study, I think he might have been a guard out of uniform, sitting at the far end with a book of his own, so I picked the chair on the far corner, and we ignored each other until the boy came in with a thin book. I flipped him a gold coin and he almost tripped over his own feet bowing and walking backwards through the door.

The book was only a few dozen pages thick, and a quick flip through showed that almost half were portrait sketches. House Rlarian had risen to dominance over the centuries, though lost some of their standing when the first of the gods arrived. Metal and lumber lost their market value when divine beings flooded the market, being able to both brave the deepest mines and transport superhuman quantities of materials. The Rlarians bounced back when they came to a trade agreement, they would buy all that the gods could produce, in exchange the gods would ensure that none others were able to sell in these lands. During these years a war broke out, as monsters invaded. Jinglehammer killed the Goblin Lord Gratka and took control of the lands, with House Rlarian swearing loyalty to him as Count. The other gods dispersed.

For a time there was peace, with Jinglehammer mostly being a benevolent and absent lord who let House Rlarian handle most of the day to day affairs while he built a castle and then thirty years later another invasion occurred between alliance of monster gods calling themselves Ragamuffin and the Call For A Good Time human alliance. Jinglehammer was slain in a duel with Huora who seized the County and renamed it Huora, and an election was called to select the new Count. This lead to much infighting, and House Rlarian was ineligible due to their Lord going missing during a raid into the goblin hills. Lord Kell emerged as Count.

After this, House Rlarian fell into sharp decline, eventually selling their House to Wolsey and the remainder of the family relocating to Castle Greyballs. Without their Signet they could not select a new Lord, and lacked the funds to commission a new crest and signet.

As of the time of writing, there were six members of House Rlarian surviving. Marietta, the widow, and her children Maria, Monica, Isabel, Issac, Isiah, and Monroe.

The portraits of them all showed thin features with long noses and dark hair. If I understood the dates correctly this book would have been written about fifteen years ago, seven years after Lord Rlarian was slain and his body lost. So the children, if they were alive, would be in their mid 40s to early 30s now. Not the most reliable information, but better than nothing. At least I had some names to go off of.

I returned the book to Nesbitt, who was indeed hard at work on my map, and returned to the town square. Given how important it was to be here on time tomorrow, I figured it was necessary to chance a stay at the inn. The Dancing Donkey might be the second largest building in town if you counted the stables attached to it. The rooms were all on the second floor, with the main floor being a kitchen and large hall with several round tables spread around it and a large fireplace in the center.

The hall had about thirty people inside, enough that nobody really noticed when I walked in. By the time I got to the bar the whispers had made their way around the room and I was getting quite a few stares.

"What'll it be?" The barkeeper was a matronly old woman with mostly grey hair but still looking every bit capable of tossing out troublemakers herself.

"A room for the night, and a meal."

"Room is five gold a night, no weird stuff, you hear me? We've got pork and potato stew tonight, twenty eight silver a bowl, beer for ten silver."

"No weird stuff. One of each, and if it's no trouble an early wakeup call at dawn?" I handed over six gold coins. A moment later she slapped my change and a key on the bar and moved on to the next patron. The key was a fairly rough thing, with the number seven on the head. I picked a table out of the busy paths and stuck my pack on the seat beside me. Others in here were doing the same.

Most of the patrons looked like farmers, mostly men. A few I recognized as merchants. Several more entered as I watched, including a man and woman with fiddle and drum. They nodded to the barkeep and set up beside the fireplace. In short order they were playing a lively tune that was surprisingly good.

A curious teenaged boy brought me out a bowl and a mug. I tossed him a gold coin and he nearly dropped it in shock.