“Day 1: I’ve arrived in Betherius in early winter, the snow already to my ankles. It is much colder on the east coast than the west and I have yet to become fully accustomed to it. It almost seems a blessing to be going underground away from the sleet and harsh winds.

We spent our first night outside the entrance to the Abyss and I swear the elf boy did not take one breath from his complaining. The cold, the food, the weight of his share of the supplies. Like all of his kind I have met he’s sleight of build, with pale skin and strangely coloured eyes. When you compare him to the human heroes I’ve hired it is like planting a runty weed beside a mighty oak. Sometimes I wonder how the men of the fae’rn can call themselves men at all.

I suggested in private to his mistress that perhaps it might be best if the boy stay in the nearby village instead but she insisted he must join us. Not wanting to lose my scholar and potential guide I acquiesced. She did promise to keep a tighter hold on the boy’s tongue in future which is something at least and I thanked her for it.

We’ll be entering the Abyss at first light and I am already eager for what it may have in store for us. I will have to calm my excitement lest I fail to get adequate sleep tonight, which I shall definitely need come morning.”

Professor Oliver Lambourne, Direst for the Guild of Explorers.

After the strange meeting with the elf Arahn woke the next morning sure that the whole thing must have been a dream conjured from his food starved mind. But shortly after dawn a pair of guards came to his cell. Instead of breakfast they arrived wielding truncheons and manacles.

“Get up,” ordered one, his tone brooking no argument.

Arahn obeyed immediately and when instructed to, held out his hands to be bound in front of him. With a hand on his arm one of the guards guided him out of his cell and down the stairs. The large cells weren’t open yet but it already seemed most people were awake. Arahn could feel eyes on him, watching eagerly as he was taken across the yard. A great groan of disappointed rose when they passed the gallows platform. So that was what they’d been hoping to see.

Waiting in front of the closed portcullis with another guard was the girl Arahn had noticed in the yard the previous day. She was staring straight ahead through the gates, standing tall and back straight, like she wasn’t barefoot and bound just like he was. When Arahn and company reached them one of the guards called out to the watchers on the gate, who began to lift the first portcullis for them. As when he’d first arrived they had to wait for both portcullises to be raised and lowered again before they could move through.

Outside a small wagon was waiting. Up the front was the driver and sitting next to him was Calan’dal, who grinned when they got close.

“Look who’s lucky first!” the elf called.

The guard lifted Arahn onto the back of the wagon, who sat down on one of the benches, bound hands resting in his lap. When the girl joined him she sat as far up the front as she could, right behind the driver.

“Who else is coming?” Arahn asked.

The elf swivelled in his seat so he was facing the back of the wagon. “Oh you’ll see!” he said with a broad grin.

The next time the portcullis opened a single guard walked forward all but dragging two small figures, a fist gripped tight to the collars of their worn prison rags. Large bat ears stuck out of the side of identical wide faces, split with wicked grins full of sharp teeth. Ratty, straw-like hair fell in messy fringes over their large lamp-like eyes. Their faces were dirty and the pair had a mischievous child-like air about them.

Having grown up in the city Arahn recognised them for what they were, goblins. The creatures were far more common in the densely packed slums of human cities than country villages, so Arahn was a bit surprised to see a pair so far out. Most goblins lived underground in primitive tribes, but over time overpopulation had driven many to the surface, their descendants finding work in factories and mills, due to their dexterity and a cunning eye for detail. Surface dwelling goblins generally took to human society well, and embraced economic commerce with gusto. Many found that they had a natural aptitude for counting coin and telling the difference between officially minted currency and its less legitimate counterpart. For this reason many of the more intelligent goblin’s found themselves employed in banks and accounting offices. The less reputable ones however, found their affinity for shiny objects a boon for thieves’ guilds and the like, their small bodies and long dexterous fingers, ideal for burglary and pick-pocketing.

“We’re watching you two, do you hear?” snarled the guard who loaded them into the back of the wagon, lifting each of them one-handed. “You’re not running off again.”

“Of course,” one of the goblins squeaked, trying and failing to force their face into an innocent expression.

“Would never dream of it!” the other said, not even trying to hide their own grin.

Its voice was higher and softer than their partner. A boy and a girl maybe?

As the guard moved away they noticed Arahn looking and sent a grin in his direction. Arahn gave a small nervous smile in response. He was starting to get worried. The wagon they were in could only hold a few more people and so far they had two teenagers, two children and an old man. It didn’t seem like the winning hero team Arahn had been hoping for during his talks with Calan’dal. He glanced at the elf, who was still grinning, one of his legs bouncing with nervous excitement.

“Here comes the final member of our little group,” said Calan’dal his eyes sparkling manically as the portcullis rose one more.

Arahn turned to look and his eyes widened. Bound in thick chains and being escorted by four heavily armed guards, was the troll. The beast’s eyes swept the contents of the wagon, then narrowed in Arahn’s direction. The boy had a sudden flash of memory from the previous day when the warden’s words to him had caught the troll’s attention from across the yard. He quickly lowered his gaze back to his lap not wanting to further antagonise someone who looked like they could break him in half with one hand.

The troll grunted as he was manhandled into the wagon and took the space on the bench next to the brunette girl. The girl made the way she rested her arms on the front of the wagon, so she could lean away from the troll, look natural.

Calan’dal clapped his hands once then rubbed them together. “Well that’s all of us.”

“Shall we depart then, sir?” asked the driver.

“Yes, let’s get on our way!”

The driver gripped the reigns and flicked them, setting the two large horses hitched to the wagon into motion. They drove away from the prison and back onto the main trade road, though they were traveling away from Gillamoore further into the countryside. An hour passed in mostly tense silence, the only sounds in the wagon coming from the twin goblins who were happily looking all about as they drove, whispering and giggling to each either.

Calan’dal suddenly spoke up. “It’s a little while yet to our destination, perhaps we should all introduce ourselves.” He looked around but none of his new employees seemed eager to share. “Very well, I shall start. I’m Calan’dal, a cartographer from—”

“We already know who you are,” growled the troll. “You talked more than enough while we were signing ourselves away to you.”

“This is all a waste of time,” the girl sitting next to him mumbled under her breath.

“Come now,” said Calan’dal. “You don’t think it’s a good idea to get to know your new party members? We’ll be spending a lot of time together from now on and it would be nice to know who we’re trusting our lives to.”

“Fine then,” said the girl haughtily, though it sounded like she’d been hoping the moment to talk about herself would arise. “My name is Cathran Aubert. I’m originally from Seras and was only in this little city state to attend the Laria Girl’s Academy. Everything was going splendid until I learned that my parents had been killed in some riot or whatever it was back home.”

“I’m so sorry,” said Arahn sincerely. “I lost my parent recently as well. I understand what you must be going through—”

“You have no idea!” Cathran snapped. “I wasn’t even given time to grieve! Barely a week after their deaths the school informed me I was no longer welcome. My uncle, the bastard, had taken my family’s entire inheritance for himself and cancelled my tuition. And just like that I was kicked out, a child left outside the gates, no money, nothing but the clothes on my back. I tried writing to my uncle, still believing there must have been some mistake but I heard nothing.”

“What you get arrested for then?” asked the boy goblin. “Loitering?”

Cathran glared at him. “A traveling medicine woman took pity on me and took me in. She offered to train me in herbalism, so I could at least support myself while I tried to get back to Seras. I’d only been living with her a short time before the guard came knocking at our door. They accused her of witchcraft and we were both arrested. I objected obviously, but apparently the apprentice is as guilty as the master.” She gestured to the cart as if to conclude ‘And so here I am’ before falling silent.

“So you’re innocent then?” asked Arahn.

“Obviously!” Cathran snapped. “Do I look like a witch to you?”

“No, of course not,” assured Arahn. “I just mean, I’m in the same boat.” He told them the tale of being framed for his landlady’s murder. “It seemed we’ve both managed to become victims of the system’s unfairness.”

“Know who killed your old lady?” asked the troll, a touch of curiosity in his tone.

“I suspect the guards who arrested me,” said Arahn.

“Sound’s plausible,” mused Calan’dal rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “Every authority has their bad apples.”

“Apples, ha!” exclaimed the troll. “Probably tried to extort the old dame and when she refused.” He punched his own palm and smirked. “Then you walked in and they found the perfect stooge to pin it on.”

“Also a possibility,” agreed Calan’dal, then smiled. “You seem more talkative now, care to share your own life story?”

“No,” said the troll simple, folding his arms and leaning back against the edge of the wagon.

A tugging at his sleeve made Arahn look down. The two goblins were sitting next to him looking up at him with their big eyes and wide smiles.

“We tried to escape from prison,” said the boy eagerly.

“Is that so?” asked Arahn forcing his expression to look curious.

They both nodded.

“First the lockhouse at Port Pheras Royal, then the garrison as well,” said the girl excitedly. “They took us out of the city after that.”

“Then we tried to escape that one too,” said the boy. “Oooh, I couldn’t hold a spoon for a week!”

“So why were you arrested?” asked Arahn as politely as he could.

Both goblins smiled broadly, mischief glinting in their eyes. “We was thieves,” they said in unison.

“Was good at it too,” said the boy proudly. “Then the Authority started cracking down on the smugglers and our guild got caught up in it. At least that’s what the boss said.”

“But now we got a new boss,” said the girl smiling at Calan’dal.

“Now, now,” said the elf. “We’ll all be working together on this little venture. How about you introduce yourselves?”

“I’m Evan,” said the boy cheerfully, then jerked his thumb at the girl. “My sister is Lem.”

They both stuck out their hands to Arahn, who smiled and took one in each of his. The goblin kids had a very enthusiastic shake and as soon as they’d released Arahn, they scrambled over to repeat the procedure with Cathran and the troll. With everyone watching her Cathran acquiesced, but Arahn caught sight of her wiping her hands on her pants once the goblins backs were turned. The troll stoically refused to unfold his arms for them and they eventually gave in.

“If you’re not ready to talk about yourself,” ventured Calan’dal to the troll. “Perhaps a name will suffice. Unless you’d like everyone calling you troll?”

The expression on the brute’s face suggested he’d almost prefer it before he grunted out “Morvar.”

“Splendid,” said Calan’dal. “Well now that we’re all acquainted the rest of journey should be very enjoyable indeed.”

Shortly thereafter the wagon descended back into silence and remained that way until the goblins got bored and started to play at seeing how far they could lean over the side of the wagon to watch the pounding of the horse’s hooves and rolling of the wagon wheels. Sensing trouble Calan’dal tapped his staff on the floor of the wagon then once he had the children’s attention roped them into some simple travelling games. He would choose something he could see from the cart then the goblins would have to guess what he was thinking of. Given the lack of varied scenery they quickly tired of it, so he moved on to another where he’d pick a word at random then the kids would have to think of a word that started with the same letter as the previous word ended with. Straight forward enough but an interesting challenge to the kids with their much more limited vocabulary in the common tongue. At some point all the words became types of food and Arahn’s stomach began to grumble again at the reminder.

“Will you shut up!” snarled Morvar seconds later, making Cathran flinch next to him.

Calan’dal laughed good naturedly “Come now it’s only a ga—“

“None of us have eaten since before yesterday morning,” the troll growled slowly. “So stop yammering on about food!”

“Ah, I see, a good point,” said Calan’dal with a nod. “Let’s avoid food names for a while, shall we?”

Evan crossed his arms as best he could wearing manacles and pouted. “Why we gotta listen to him? We hungry too!”

“Yeah!” agreed Lem matching her brother’s pose. “Food talk is fun. Let’s you pretend you have it.” She turned to Morvar and stuck out her tongue at him. “If he don’t like it he can close his ears!”

“Or,” said the troll menacingly. “He can throw the brats off the wagon.”

“Hardly an appropriate thing to say to a child,” said Calan’dal.

Morvar bared his teeth. “I beat a man in a pub to death with my bare hands,” he growled. “Don’t think I care about going easy on little girls.”

Both goblin’s eyes widened and even Cathran looked shocked. Silence returned to the wagon soon after, though the goblins sulked and continued to mutter to each other for a while longer.

As it neared noon the wagon pulled off the maintained trade road and onto an uneven dirt track that wound around the edge of a forest, fading into grass and back to dirt every now and then. The cart jerked and rocked beneath them as they went, so much so in one patch that Arahn was tossed from his seat and halfway across Morvar’s lap. Jumping back with stammered apologies he received only a deep grunt in reply from the troll. The wagon continued on its way around the forest, just barely brushing the edges of the trees, before tipping slightly as they rolled down a shallow hill, swaying and creaking before finally coming to a stop.

“Alright, end of the line,” said the driver.

“Wonderful!” said Calan’dal. He reached into one of his pouches, withdrew a single gold coin and passed it to the driver before climbing down off the wagon.

The twins scrambled off after him eagerly and the wagon lurched violently a moment later when Morvar stood, walked to the back and stepped off. He landed with a heavy sound on the grass and stretched, his chains clanking. Arahn and Cathran waited until the troll had moved away from the wagon before following.

Once everyone had disembarked the driver turned the wagon around and drove away with barely a backwards glance, looking eager to get away from the area as quickly as possible.

Arahn looked around. They were standing in wide depression in the ground, like a crater that had long since been overgrown with thick grass. In the centre of it there was a huge outcropping of stone, tall and jagged like someone had punched the shards of rock up from deep beneath the earth. On one side of the largest of the boulders was a double stone doorframe. It was covered in moss and lichen and Arahn could just barely see the top of some stairs but beyond that was nothing but darkness.

“Is that the entrance?” he asked.

“Yes,” replied Calan’dal hobbling over. “Spooky isn’t it?”

Before Arahn could reply Cathran inserted herself into the conversation.

“Hey! Are we supposed to be going down with these,” she jangled her manacles. “Still on?”

Calan’dal laughed. “No, of course not! That was just to keep the prison happy.” A moment later he produced a chunky looking key from within the folds of his caplette. “Come here and let me get those off of you.”

Cathran almost tripped over herself in her eagerness to get to the old elf. She thrust her hands towards him and he quickly unlocked her manacles. He turned to Arahn next to undo his, then with the boy’s help freed the twins as well.

“Sorry, but this old man doesn’t bend so well anymore,” he apologised as Arahn lifted each goblin in turn so Calan’dal could reach their hands.

Morvar’s release was a little more complicated as he’d been bound with several extra lengths of chain constructed into a harness over his shoulders, and around his chest and upper arms to ensure he was properly secured. It was clear who amongst them the prison guards had considered to be the bigger threat. Not that Arahn could blame them. Morvar was a beast. Standing so close to him was making the regular sized human feel very small indeed.