ravensofdarkwind

[ravensofdarkwind]

Chapter 6: The Trial

“I call to order, the trial of,” Lord Gracious glanced at the scroll his advisor held to his side. “Rogue Four?” He finished, unimpressed by the edginess of the group's name. Muttering arose from the three who had protested the name, as well as amongst the crowd that watched with eager anticipation. Lord Gracious clapped his hands, a loud boom echoing through the cavern. The crowd hushed, in awe of their great leader.

“Now then,” Lord Gracious continued. “in a recount of the day’s events, you are here because you murdered two guards in the town of Moonshine. This is a serious crime.” He glared at the four accused, each of whom held a separate expression.

Hesmira looked calm, not the slightest bit worried by being surrounded by the guards; She knew in a pinch she could get out of there. Er looked defiant. He was guilty of the crime, but he was justified, and that was enough reasoning in his mind to keep himself at peace. Morbek looked nervous, not knowing how the crowd would react to a goblin like him.

Birdie looked like he was about to pass out. Birdie, who had encountered only one other stressful moment in his life, had now lived through multiple in the last day alone. He was shaken, to say the least. In a move of great bravery, Birdie stepped forward to speak.

“Lord Gracious,” He started, with a deep bow on one knee. “We are honored to be in your presence, and we all recognize the severity of the crime.” He looked up from the floor, hopeful his flattery would get him a head start.

“Cut the bullshit.” Lord Gracious barked. The crowd laughed, honored to be graced with both his wit and frankness. “You are here to plead your case, not to flatter me. Now, plead it.”

Birdie flushed. He was used to being jeered, but never by a crowd this large. He gulped, then continued.

“Lord Gracious, we are not guilty.” He finally stated.

“So, you were not the ones that killed the guards in Moonshine?” Lord Gracious raised an eyebrow.

“No. Well, I mean, yes, we killed them, but-“ A gasp rose from the crowd. Conversations broke out, some shouting “HANG THEM!”

Lord Gracious clapped his hands again.

“SILENCE!”

“But we are justified in doing so!” Birdie cried. He closed his eyes, waiting for the guards to take him away. But nothing happened.

He slowly opened his eyes, unsure of what was to come next. The crowd had settled quickly; their interests now piqued.

“What do you mean you were justified?” Lord Gracious challenged, leaning forward in his throne.

Birdie contemplated his word choice. As much as Lord Gracious was his title, he was a dangerous man to cross. To get on his bad side would be an instant death sentence. He came up from his kneeling position.

“Lord Gracious, the guards had betrayed their people. “Tax Collectors” had laid claim to all the money these poor townspeople had. Instead of defending their citizens, the guards took their posts to stop anyone from intervening. They were in the wrong; we only acted in the interest of the people.”

Lord Gracious pondered a moment, stroking the wisps of his beard. “I was unaware of these “Tax Collectors” in Moonshine. However, I will need more evidence that you are not lying to me.” He turned his attention to the wizard that had made the purple mist appear. “Summon him.”

The wizard cast a new spell, its effects taking place in the adjacent alcove of the cavern. From this new gray mist appeared a familiar face; the barkeep that the four had met in Moonshine.

“Where am I? What’s going on?” The bartender asked worriedly, looking around his new surroundings in dismay.

“You are here to testify in front of this court about what you saw yesterday evening in the town of Moonshine. Please, explain to this court what transpired.” The audience watched the bartender compose himself before speaking.

“Well, I was going about my day when I saw this halfling and his friends enter my tavern. I served them some drinks and I heard the tax collectors call for everyone to come to the square and pay up. So, I collected my payment and went to take it to them. When I had almost handed it over, these heroes appeared, taking out the bandits that were going to steal all our money! It was incredible.” The crowd murmured in astonishment.

“Thank you, your view will be considered in this sentencing. You may go now. Lord Gracious decreed, waving his hand at the court wizard.

The bartender began to panic, arguing that he would rather travel back to Moonshine on foot, but the gray mist that had brought him to the courtroom overtook his voice, transporting him back to his tavern.

The four looked at each other. A small smile broke across Birdie’s face, hopeful.

“Your sentence will be reduced due to your heroic actions.”

Birdie’s face fell. “Only reduced?” Birdie questioned. “But, we did the right thing, and-“

“You still committed the crime, did you not? You even admitted to it during this trial.” Lord Gracious stated calmly; no personal emotion swaying his verdict.

Birdie paled. ‘Shit, I did say that.’ He thought. He was roughly pushed to the side by Hesmira, then to the other by Er. Morbek caught him before he could completely fall to the ground.

“But we did the right thing!” Hesmira shouted.

Lord Gracious held his hand up, turning to a separate advisor that had appeared in the margins. He snapped his fingers and the purple mist sunk to the floor, hushing his voice. He spoke urgently with the advisor, furrowing his brows in concentration. With another snap of his fingers, the wizard let the purple mist rise again, charming his voice with reverberation.

“I have just been informed that you completed another heroic act outside Giant Foot’s very walls. They tell me that you slew kobolds that intended to infiltrate our city. For that, you have my gratitude. “He nodded his head slightly to the group. “In fact, this gives me an idea for your sentence.” Lord Gracious leaned forward once more. “There is evil afoot. Not just in Moonshire, but all of Darkwind. I have no doubt adventurers such as yourselves have seen it on the rise over the last 7 years. There are rumors the dragon Zestyl is behind these evil incursions on our land. However, as the legend goes, the great wizard Varkaag defeated Zestyl. That raises the question: How has evil run rampant without it’s great authority to command it?”

Birdie was more familiar with the story than the acts of evil creatures recently. He heard the tale of the wizard Varkaag that had slain the dragon Zestyl with his party of adventurers, but that was as far as his knowledge went.

“So, I lay the task before you: find why this has been happening.” Lord Gracious looked at the group with sincerity. “If you can still find the great wizard Varkaag, I’m sure he will be most willing to help you stamp out what remains of Zestyl’s reign. If not, then you are tasked with defeating what is left of Zestyl’s army. Or,” He paused, the crowd on the edge of their seat to hear what punishment would befall the criminals if they refused. “you are sentenced to a month’s worth of community service in Giant’s Foot.” The crowd groaned. Lord Gracious was known for his unusual punishments, but it didn’t appear anyone was to be killed today for their actions. The more blood thirsty congregants began to make their way out of the cavern, disappointed.

“I will allow you to deliberate your choice.” Lord Gracious snapped his fingers, and the wizard that had made the mist appear cast the spell again to let it sink closer to Birdie’s ankles. Testing if they were truly free to discuss, Morbek snapped his fingers a few times, confirming their words would not echo.

“We should take the community service.” Er said bluntly. The other three stared at him in disbelief.

“Are you insane?” Birdie hissed. “Didn’t you hear what he said? There is evil on the rise, and you’re not going to do anything to help?” Birdie turned to look at Hesmira and Morbek, trying to confirm if he was in the right. “We would be heroes if we accomplished this.” Birdie had the stars in his eyes, childlike and naïve.

“If, we accomplish this, there is a big if there, Birdie.” Er stooped down to Birdie’s level to make his point very clear. “How many life-threatening quests have you been on?”

“I hate to say it, but he’s right.” Hesmira agreed. Er and Birdie both turned to her, unsure of who she was referring to. “We’re no strangers to evil in this land. And the uptick in that has me worried. We should help out.”

Er huffed out in frustration, then looked to Morbek for his opinion. Morbek wrung his hands together.

“We would do more good for Darkwind if we took this quest, Er.” He paused, unsure if Er was going to turn on them. “My goal is to bring peace to the nations and people of Darkwind, so if this quest helps them, I say we do it.”

Er huffed again. He waved his arm to Lord Gracious, signifying that he was ready to say his piece. Lord Gracious motioned to the wizard, who made the mist rise once again to enunciate their voices.

“I have a question, Your Highness.” Er leveled. Birdie cringed at the changed title. “Why would you offer us the choice if you are pushing us to one or the other? I personally want to do the community service, but my companions here are convinced we should go on this quest that will most certainly get us killed. So, convince me; why should we risk our lives for a hopeless cause?” The other three stared in horror at Er’s abrasiveness. Birdie wanted to charm him into apologizing. Hesmira looked like she was considering knocking him out. Morbek started looking around for the nearest exit.

Lord Gracious let out a deep chuckle. “I like your spirit, boy. Do not try that with me again or you will find yourself with a sentence much worse than the one I have presented before you.” Lord Gracious paused to let his threat seep in. “You say you need to be convinced? I don’t believe that. You have already shown you want to do the right thing for others. You defended innocent people when they were being taken advantage of. You rushed in to defeat evil at the entrance of this town. Not to mention, these companions have stayed by your side in spite of not committing the crime themselves.” Er cocked his head in confusion. “Yes, I see the blood on your staff. It matched the blunt injuries that those guards had, but not all the tax collectors were wounded with. Do not mistake me for a fool. These heroes could have turned you in by yourself to face my wrath but chose to stand by your side instead. They have already shown a deep loyalty to this motley crew that has been created. So, I believe I do not need to convince you of anything. You need only accept it for yourself that you are willing to do what is right for Darkwind.”

Thoroughly read, Er stepped back to contemplate Lord Gracious’ words. Morbek stepped forward to fill the orator space.

“Lord Gracious. We are ready to discuss the conditions of this quest to defeat Zestyl.”

“Very well, if you are all in agreement now.” Lord Gracious settled back into his throne. “You will be provided with the carriage driver that brought you here to Giant’s Foot. You will also be provided with rations for the journey to the port town of Cantertois. I trust you all to defend each other on this quest, and to stay together. Should any of you break off from this quest, there will be consequences.”

Morbek spoke in Gnomish, a language Birdie had heard but never had caught onto himself. It elicited another chuckle from Lord Gracious.

“You surprise me, goblin. Very well, I will send an official scroll with you four. Show it to anyone who questions your mission or presence.” A new advisor appeared, a large scroll in hand, already mostly written. “As a note, I recommend you choose a new name for your party. What shall Darkwind know you four as?”

Birdie began to open his mouth, before Hesmira clamped her hand down across it. “You don’t get to decide names, your ideas suck.” Hesmira commanded. Birdie muffled out a defeated sigh, then pulled her hand down to speak anyway.

“I was going to say, may we have a moment to discuss, Lord Gracious?” Birdie asked meekly.

“You may have two minutes. Choose wisely.”

The purple mist descended once more. A fierce deliberation broke out amongst the group. Birdie excitedly shouted something. A pause of silence followed. Hesmira waved her arm to Lord Gracious, showing the group was ready to officially dub themselves.

“What is the name of your party?” Lord Gracious readied his quill to the parchment.

“We are,” Hesmira announced. “The Ravens.”

“The Ravens you will be.” Lord Gracious’ hand scrawled across the parchment in elegant strokes. “You have the rest of the day to prepare for your departure. Go forth, and bring peace to Darkwind.”

The guards relaxed slightly, leading The Ravens out of the cavern, into the upper level of Giant’s Foot.

This, is where our story truly begins.

[ravensofdarkwind]

Chapter 5: Giant's Foot

The four arrived in the mighty trading port that was Giant’s Foot. Unlike tactical fortresses, Giant’s Foot was a mammoth of a trading center, divided into an upper and lower level to keep businesses from crashing into one another. Looming walls guarded the perimeter of the city, each one that was closer to the center taller than the previous. The center held a statue; a giant, kneeling onto one knee as his shoulders supported the opening of the mountain base.

Birdie was familiar with the story of Giant’s Foot origins. Moonshire was his home, and he was proud to know it’s legend: an entity, some say otherworldly, had grown fond of a trading caravan that was passing through the area. The leader of this caravan, a gnome with great persuasion, pleaded with the entity to create a safe place for all traders to call home. With this plea, the entity was moved; it carved out entire sections of the mountain, using the stone to create paths for all travelers who had trades to come home to. The gnome became the first leader, the first Lord Gracious. It was a safe haven, and Birdie liked how Giant’s Foot felt welcoming to him. He hadn’t been back in some odd years, but he wished his return had been under different circumstances.

The carriage had barely made its way into the city when the driver pulled them to a screeching halt. The horses whinnied in protest, then in dismay. Outside inner city walls, guards were heard struggling against beings that hissed out as they attacked. From Birdie’s vantage, there were eight of these small, tailed creatures, each brandishing different scrap weapons. And the guards had lost this time.

Birdie quickly plucked the strings of his viola, allowing little whisps of magic to emerge. The magic swirled in light green, blue, and lavender dots, latching on to the hissing fiends. Illuminated, Birdie could see what they were: kobolds. 6 flat footed, 2 with wings, all of them with pale white skin.

Morbek swung his hammer in a mighty arc, blue magic flaming as the spiritual projection of his hammer flew through the air, aimed at one of the flying kobolds. A deafening crack resonated through the outer wall area, bones crushed on impact with the magic, sending the kobold spiraling towards the ground.

Er leapt out of the carriage, rushing around the back and right side. Two kobolds lunged at him; their daggers raised to strike his torso. Er sidestepped the attack, swinging his staff to crush the firsts’ head. Before the first kobold could fully succumb to the blow, Er whirled his staff around, shattering the second’s right arm. The second dropped its dagger in pain, clutching onto the broken bones.

Hesmira drove forward, jumping out of the front of the carriage. Two more kobolds charged at her, hissing as they dashed away from the walls. Hesmira held her ground, quickly taking out her hand axe and slashing one of the kobolds in stomach. The second hesitated too long, looking at its companion fall into its own silver blood. Hesmira took advantage of this blunder, spinning herself around as she slashed the second kobold’s neck.

A shrill screech came from above. Birdie looked up to see the other flying kobold diving towards Hemira. He started to call out to her to dodge, but stopped as he saw her take a confident step back, steeling herself for the attack. Hesmira vaulted off the ground, slashing through one of the kobold’s wings. It howled out as it furled its remaining wing around itself. Hesmira wasted no time chasing down its landing and bringing her hand axe down into its chest, killing it quickly.

Birdie and Morbek made their way out of the carriage back, running around to the front to help with the fight. The final unharmed kobolds charged forward, determined to avenge their fallen family. Morbek cast his hammer again to bring the apparition of magic back towards him.

One of the kobolds leapt forward, its short sword poised to strike Birdie. Birdie shielded himself, bringing up his rapier to protect his body. He started to close his eyes when he saw the magical hammer crush the kobolds spine. The kobold fell onto Birdie, limply hanging off Birdie’s sword. Birdie shoved the dead kobold off him in terror, breathing heavily.

Morbek took one final swing with his hammer at the last kobold, striking its jaw. The kobolds head reeled back, falling swiftly to the ground.

Birdie looked around the carnage to see the kobold with the broken arm scamper to its feet, attempting to dash past the carriage the group rode on. Morbek, screamed out a word in Dwarvish, his hammer glowing with a blue fire. The kobold stopped dead in its tracks, turned around and looked at the group in terror. Its wide yellow eyes looked up at the group as they walked closer to it.

“Why are you attacking this town?” Morbek interrogated. The kobold whimpered.

“I just wanted to serve my Lord Zestyl, that’s all! He told us to attack this place, so we did! Please don’t kill me.” It sputtered out.

Birdie looked at the kobold thoughtfully. It was small, like a child. He felt pity for the creature.

Morbek swung his hammer again, the spell releasing its grip on the kobold.

“Get out, and don’t come back.” Morbek threatened, his voice taking a dark tone.

The kobold fled, running in a zigzag pattern faster than Birdie had ever seen. He sheathed his unused rapier and placed the viola back to its post. The group reconvened in the carriage, silently acknowledging each other. The carriage began to pull forward again, moving deeper into the great capital.

-

The rest of the ride into Giant’s Foot was smooth. Birdie looked through the back of the carriage to view Giant’s Foot’s lower level. There were merchant stands, shops, armories, and libraires, all accessible to everyone that lived in the city. As long as they could pay or trade for items, the markets were open to all. Birdie had remembered being fascinated by the city when he had first began traveling across Moonshire. He was enamored by how large the city was, needing to be divided into an upper and lower level to fit all the people and markets.

His view was cut off by a guard coming around the side of the carriage. Birdie looked up at the guards face, offering a smile to the human. The human guard did not smile back.

“Let’s get a move on.” He grunted, yanking Birdie out of the back of the carriage.

The rest of the group got out with their hands up, untouched as they made their way out of the back of the carriage. The six guards took up their positions around the group, two who were the most decorated leading them towards the entrance of a cavern.

Birdie looked around himself to see people whispering and pointing at the group. His face flushed in embarrassment. How had it come to this?

The cavern entrance looked small and unassuming as the guards ushered them inside. Up a few flights of stairs, Birdie could hear the sound of chatter grow ever louder. By the end of the staircase, a light projected through the manmade crevices in the stone. The constricting staircase opened up to a large stadium; seats filled with spectators conversed with one another before realizing the convicts had arrived. Many turned their attention to the four, beginning to heckle and jeer at the odd creatures.

The guards moved the four criminals along to a center stage that lay far below the height of a throne and podium. The stage was larger than needed for the Rogue Four to stand atop of and have personal space, but Birdie figured it was larger than that for criminals of other sizes to stand trial. The four of them were relatively small, some surprisingly small for their race, but the extra room was comfort for the criminals that did not know each other that well.

A loud CLAP came from the top section of the cavern. People began to roar in approval, shouting for their leader. Birdie looked up, somewhat excited to meet the Lord Gracious he had heard so much about. He just wished he wasn’t meeting the legend at his own trial.

The crowd continued to chant for Lord Gracious as he made his way up the steps from behind the throne. The crowd exploded with applause as he came into view.

A large crown balanced on top of his head, the elderly gnome made his way over to his throne and podium. He took a seat on his throne, reaching forward to the podium to pick up the scroll that lay on top of it. He looked at the accused, eyeing each of them, his last look landing on the halfling. He smiled warmly at the four, then began to speak. 

[ravensofdarkwind]

Chapter 4: The Peddler

The next three hours were a blur for our adventurers. Each time one of them attempted to nod off to sleep the peddler would snap his fingers, commanding their attention, before continuing to rant about the price of fleece or that the world wasn’t ready for his bold fashion sense.

Birdie looked up to see Er beginning to reach for his staff, Hesmira silently nodding to egg him on. Birdie panicked, quickly shaking his head to try to dissuade them.

“What are you doing?” The merchant finally asked Birdie. Birdie’s eyes went wide, realizing he couldn’t say what he was thinking. The merchant began to turn his head, starting to follow Birdie’s line of vision.

“I was just!” Birdie paused, desperately trying to think of anything to say. “Letting my friends know I was interested in your wares!” He finished, cringing internally.

The merchant’s eyes widened, conveying the wicked excitement he had for someone to finally say that to him. “Yes! Yes of course, let me see what I have on me!”

The group gathered around the merchant as he began to open his backpack. He unzipped hidden pockets, unfastened loose pouches, until the entire stock of his backpack was on display.

The clothes were a sight to behold; they were the most hideous, moth-eaten, visually appalling clothing any of them had ever seen.

“Now, normally I charge much more than I’m about to now, but I would love to give y’all a discount for letting me hitch a ride to Giant’s Foot.” He pulled out a slightly discolored cape, the only piece of clothing that seemed to be slightly still intact. “This, will be 500 gold pieces!”

The four looked at each other, aghast. Birdie took a deep breath, then walked the small length across the floor while unsheathing his sword and viola to come face to face with the merchant.

“You know, I don’t exactly have a lot of money on me right now, so I wouldn’t be able to afford it at the price you have presented before me.” Birdie paused a moment to let his words seep in. The merchant became crestfallen, lowering the cape slightly in his grasp.

“However,” Birdie continued. “I am an artist, like yourself. How about we make a trade, art for art? My song, for an even further discounted price. Deal?

Birdie began to pull at the strings before the merchant could respond to the offer. The melody began, a playful song that reminded Birdie of where he grew up. From the music came the swirling of lavender magic. It circled the cabin, creating tiny figures of heroic scenes, battles, romances, before choosing it’s final destination in the merchant’s eyes. His eyes glossed over, full of wonder and intoxication from the melody. He nodded a few times, looking at the cape in contemplation.

“Okay, friend! I can sell this to you forrrrrrrr, 100 gold pieces instead! How does that sound?”

Birdie almost stopped playing in astonishment. He only had 13 gold pieces on him. What kind of swindler sold a cape for 100 gold pieces? How could he still be so greedy while charmed to like Birdie?

'It must be a deeply integral part of who he is.' Birdie thought to himself.

Morbek had decided it was his turn to attempt reasoning with the merchant. “Excuse me, good sir, I believe- “

“I don’t believe that offer was to you, idiot.” The merchant snarled, suddenly defensive.

Birdie stopped playing for a second to snap his fingers at the merchant. He whirled around to face Birdie, still enraged his business offer was interrupted. Upon hearing the melody restart the merchant’s body relaxed, a daze taking over his willpower once again.

“Heyyyyy, why are your friends so mean to me? I didn’t mean them any harm.”

Hesmira, curious why the peddler reacted the way he did, picked up one of the long cloaks. “And, how much for this? For me, of course.”

The merchant turned his body once more, obviously aggravated by having to look away from the performance again. “I already told you, that’s 500 gold pieces. Although I don’t think my words got through your thick skull.”

Irritated, Hesmira huffed, composing herself as she lay the cloak against her body. “But, I think this would look cute on me! Don’t you think?” She bat her eyelashes in an attempt to further sway him.

The merchant, still irked, sneered at her before responding. “I think you would look better with nothing on at all.”

Hesmira dropped the cloak in revulsion and stomped off to the furthest corner she could find in the tiny carriage. Er joined her, leering at the merchant.

Morbek snapped his fingers and pointed at Birdie to remind the merchant why he was here. The merchant happily resumed watching Birdie play his piece.

Birdie continued to lazily play the notes, looking around to try to find any way to get rid of the peddler. His attention was caught by Morbek reaching into the merchant’s backpack, pulling out a large leather purse. He watched in horror as Morbek hissed to Hesmira and Er, showing off his winnings to them. Er silently leapt to his feet, making his way over to the backpack to collect his own prize.

The merchant noticed Birdie’s attention begin to waver from the music and started to turn his head to see if the others noticed the same. Birdie began to panic. He started to play again, reinvigorated by the situation. More magic swept through the cabin, pulling the merchant’s eyes back to Birdie’s performance. His eyes were clouded with the stars, enamored by the story Birdie continued to weave.

Birdie looked up once again, making sure that the rest of his companions had finished their thievery. He noticed Er flash the purse he had stolen to Hesmira before snuggling it back into the hiding spot in his feathers.

Content that the others were done, ended his song, bowing politely as the peddler applauded enthusiastically.

“You truly are an artist, sir! I cannot wait to see what you do in Giant’s Foot!” He exclaimed.

All four of them looked at each other, suddenly remembering why they were headed to Giant’s Foot. And that Birdie couldn’t keep up the charm the entire night.

Birdie leaned down slightly to the peddlers’ level, smiling at him before speaking.

“You know, you’ve been a wonderful audience, but I can’t play the entire set list for you, unfortunately.” Birdie said, charming his words coolly. “And, I was wondering, would you be willing to spread the word of my performance?”

The merchant contemplated his words for a moment. “So, you want me to get off, before Giant’s Foot?” He said, slightly dejected.

“Yes! I know, it’ll be very sad for my friends and I to see you go, but I believe you spreading the word as you sell your wares would do us both the most good!”

The merchant looked up with a smile. “But I want to be your friend too! So I’m gonna stay with you until we get to Giant’s Foot, then I’ll spread the word!”

Birdie threw up his hands in defeat. He had worked so hard perfecting that charm when he was first learning magic.

Er and Hesmira started arguing loudly back and forth. Er threw a shove, which Hesmira promptly ignored and steeled herself. She subdued him with a headlock, forcing him to let go of her arms, then throwing him towards the front of the cart cabin. Er landed on his feet casually with a small flutter of his wings.

“That’s enough!” The merchant shrieked. He pulled a wand out of one of his pants pockets and flicked it in a small circle. A short green spark lit off the tip of it, releasing a putrid must that filled the cabin quickly. “Oops.” The merchant whispered, embarrassed.

Hesmira, Morbek, and Birdie began to cough, attempting to breathe through the mist that seemed to smell worse with each passing second.

With a front flip, Er positioned himself perpendicular to the merchant’s backpack, and forcefully kicked it out the back of the carriage. The merchant whirled around, crying out in dismay as he realized what happened.

“You all are assholes! Except you.” he added, pointing to Birdie. “You’re cool. But the rest of y’all! SUCK!”

With one last highly unprofessional gesture that was fairly similar to the bard’s name, he jumped out of the carriage and began to chase his backpack.

Morbek pulled some incense out of one of his pockets and lit it, attempting to stave off some of the mists smell. Er and Hesmira shared a look, then a fist bump, content that their whispered plot went off with only one minor hitch.

The four attempted to get some sleep, mercifully unbothered by other travelers on the road.

-

It was not long past dawn when the carriage driver yelled back to the convicted. “Rise and shine! We’re approaching Giant’s Foot.”

The Rogue Four awoke, miraculously well rested despite the smell that had finally begun to depart from the cabin. They made their respective ways to the front of the cabin to gaze upon the looming walls that surrounded the capital. 

[ravensofdarkwind]

Chapter 3: The Adventurers

Birdie awoke to a terrible hangover. He tried to make sense of his surroundings. He heard talking, but he wasn’t sure what direction it was coming from. He raised his head off his chest and saw Morbek wringing his hands.

“Of course, I’m terribly sorry! My name is Morbek, I hail from the monastery of Moradin in Rockwell. I trained under the clergy of dwarves.”

“I’m-"

“I didn’t know you were raised by dwarves!”

The three turn their heads to see the very excited halfling, who was staring very intently at Morbek. He started to stand up, before looking like he was about to be sick, and sat back down again.

“I- What happened? Was that a dream? Where are we going?” Birdie mumbled.

The owlin stood up and made his way to the corner Birdie occupied. He sat down next to Birdie, moving him slightly with his wing.

“Let’s start with proper introductions. I’m Er.”

“Birdie. You’re a good friend, making sure I got in this carriage okay.”

“I’m not your friend.” Er retorted.

“And we’re going to the capital, Giant’s Foot. We’re going on trial.” The minotaur leveled her gaze to Birdie’s. “I’m Hesmira.”

Birdie began to hyperventilate. “So, it wasn’t a dream? I stabbed someone?! I think I killed them! I can’t go on trial, I’ll be guilty! I’ll- I’m- Uh- I- “

“Calm down, it wasn’t because you killed those thieves. It’s because he killed two of their guards.” Hesmira said sharply, pointing at Er.

Er huffed in frustration. “They were stopping the townspeople from escaping; they were complicit in the act. I have no regrets.” Er said defiantly, folding his wings around his body.

Er made his way back over to the corner he had originally been in when they all entered the carriage to go to Giant’s Foot. They all sat in silence for a moment, listening to the horses hooves clip across the dirt path, the wheels creaking as they turned over for the thousandth time.

Morbek coughed into his hand. “So, how about we all get to know each other, now that we’re all awake at least?”

Birdie leaned in towards the middle of the carriage, a broad smile on his face. He was always looking for new stories to sing. He waited expectantly for someone to begin; but no one uttered a word. Birdie took this as his opportunity to shine.

“Well, my name is Birdie.” He paused for emphasis. “I come from a small farming community outside of Giant’s Foot, and I’m very proud to say that I have traveled to every corner of Moonshire in my lifetime.” He beamed at his own story. Everyone else seemed less enthused.

“You’ve never been outside of the nation?” Hesmira asked bluntly.

Birdie recoiled slightly at this. He couldn’t tell why, but he felt as though she was mocking him for never leaving his home nation. Not that it mattered, he had just never had a reason to leave. “I got close to it! I studied magic under spellcasters that lived on the east most side of Moonshire, then headed north towards the independent islands, then decided it was time for me to come back home!” Birdie took a breath after his exposition, placing his hands on his hips. “What about you all, any family back home?”

Birdie noticed all three look around nervously. He paled, realizing he had hit a nerve that struck a little too hard for all of them. He opened his mouth to apologize but he was cut off by his own lack of words.

“Not really, no family to go home to.” Morbek said, finally breaking the tension Birdie had caused. “I was raised by a clergy of dwarves, who praised my lord, Moradin. One night, I dreamed a vision; in it, I saw the land of Darkwind coming together to unite all its peoples. Then the vision switched to Moradin speaking to me, saying that I would be the cause of this. I tried to ask him how and why and he wouldn’t answer, he just said it was my task to take on. So, I told my headmaster in the morning, and he sent me on my way to unite Darkwind.” Morbek smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

Hesmira snorted out smoke from her nostrils. “I was a child when those creatures came and destroyed my village. I lived in Moonsea, right outside where Rockwell and Forgeflame connect. And when they took everything from me, I learned how to fight, to make sure it never happened to anyone else.” She looked up from the floorboards, motioning for Er to share his piece.

Er unfolded his wings to reveal himself in the final corner of the carriage. He hooted softly, thinking for a moment. “My tribe resided in the far reaches of Whitewinter. They cut themselves off from the world, believing that they had created a society that needed no help from it. The society they had created followed order to a letter. It rejected any part of the world that went against that order. When they had discovered a piece that didn’t fit anymore, they killed it. I managed to escape during my own execution trial, the chief had sentenced me to die. I had no where to go, so I wandered until I came across a monastery, nearly dead on their front steps. They took me in, trained me, then sent me on my way, making sure I didn’t take any more harm.”

Birdie stared at each of them, jaw dropped. He could never imagine living lives with such events and still fighting each day afterwards. He started to flush, feeling slightly embarrassed now by his own story.

Abruptly, a voice called out to the carriage driver. The driver pulled on the reigns, stopping the horses after a few more steps. The wanderer walked around the outside of the carriage, pulling himself inside before even offering to ask where they were going. He heaved his impossibly large backpack off, lazily throwing it towards the front of the carriage, nearly hitting Er and Morbek. The group stared at him in disbelief.

“Oof! I can’t believe none of y’all offered to help me into the wagon!” He wiped the miniscule amount of dust off his clothes before continuing. “But that doesn’t matter! No, I just need to get to the next town to sell my wares! SO, why don’t I accompany you?”

The four original occupants looked at each other, unsure of what to say.

“No protest? Great! Let me make myself comfortable real quick.” With inhuman speed, the traveler whipped out a sleeping mat, placing it in the direct middle of the cabin. The other four shifted uncomfortably in response to this rapid intrusion. The traveler laid on the mat, looking up at the tent that covered the carriage. “You know, I’m a merchant, and I can get you some pretty good deals if you just say the word. But enough about that, let’s talk about something way more interesting! Why are y’all headed to Giant’s Foot?”

Birdie sat there, unable to comprehend someone as nosey if not nosier than he was. He looked around for any assistance from the others, but only shared uncomfortable glances.

“Wow, quiet group. No matter! I know how to make this interesting. Let’s talk,” The merchant paused for emphasis. “about me!” 

[ravensofdarkwind]

Chapters

Part 1: Legends of Darkwind

Chapter 1: Moonshine

Chapter 2: The Tax Collectors

Chapter 3: The Adventurers

Chapter 4: The Peddler

Chapter 5: Giant's Foot

Chapter 6: The Trial

[ravensofdarkwind]

Chapter 2: The Tax Collectors

 The first tax collector gored himself on the minotaur’s horns. With a flick of her head, he went flying through the nearest merchant’s stall. The tax collectors that had stood lazily on the outside of the crowd now readied bolts in their crossbows. Morbek jumped out from behind the houses with his hands raised.

       “In the name of Moradin, stop!” He bellowed. The earth trembled at his voice, shaking slightly back and forth.

       The tax collectors paid it no mind; one of the crossbow wielders aimed at Morbek, shooting a bolt into his shoulder. Morbek stumbled backwards, clutching the arrow, before retreating back behind the houses. The five remaining collectors began shouting at each other, forming a plan to take out the intruders. One of the larger collectors picked up his heaving club and began to stalk over to Birdie and Morbek.

       Birdie, in a drunken haze, saw Morbek clutching his shoulder and peeked out from behind the edge of the house. He took a mental note of where each collector was while pulling out his sword. Unlike his performance earlier in the day, Birdie played the notes smoothly; a haunting bass piece filled the air with magic.

       Morbek began to reach his hand out to stop Birdie from continuing to play when he heard one of the collectors scream in anguish. Through the dim torchlight, the pair saw the largest tax collector clutching his ears, blood dripping down in large amounts. He bellowed in rage, letting the blood fall freely onto the pavement.

       Birdie rushed forward, abruptly cutting off his piece as he took a diving stab at the rageful tax collector. The blade sunk into the half-orc’s side, more of his blood spilling onto the pavement. 

In a final act of defiance, the deeply damaged tax collector swung his club in an arc. The blow knocked Birdie aside, into the nearest houses’ walls. 

Birdie pulled himself upright to retreat behind the houses once more. He breathed heavily, the fight beginning to sober him up. He looked down at his rapier, covered in blood for the first time. Was this really happening? 

He heard a loud smash as someone’s bones crushed under some weight. He looked up from his sword to gauge where everyone had moved to since his retreat. Instead of a vengeful tax collector, he saw the minotaur from before, gravely wounded. She sucked in a breath of air, wincing as she pulled a crossbolt out from her side. 

Birdie stumbled over to her, holding his hand out. She backpedaled, then recognized him as the halfling from before. She let her guard down slightly as Birdie finished his approach. 

Birdie began to whisper a spell he semi-remembered in his drunken haze. He placed a hand to her side where the bolt had been, watching as the wound began to close itself. He stepped back from his handiwork, nearly slipping into the river that ran by the houses. 

The minotaur made eye contact with Birdie, nodding to him as she blew fresh steam out of her nose. He nodded back. “That. IS the only one I know.” He slurred out before stumbling his way back out from behind the houses to help his other friends. 

Two tax collectors remained upright in Moonshine’s square. Birdie watched as an apparition of a hammer tore through the square, crushing one of the ranged collectors in the chest. She wheezed out, dropping her crossbow. 

Birdie decided he should help out more. He took the small dagger from his hip, sticking his tongue out as he aimed at the blurred image of the tax collector. He quickly flicked his wrist, sending the knife flying into her shoulder. She clutched it, falling to the ground, then laying still as blood pooled around her shoulder and mouth. 

The last tax collector made a break for it through the town square, jumping over the burliest tax collector towards an escape. The owlin leapt out from behind one of the houses, clotheslining the retreater. The last collector fell to the ground, gasping for air as he backed himself up on his elbows. The owlin stalked after him, pressing his foot against the tax collector's chest. 

“You, are going to answer for your crimes.”  He threatened. 

Birdie made his way over to the fallen foe. Through his film of vision, he saw fear in the man’s eyes. He was small, for a human, blood soaked his shirt and pants as he struggled against the weight the owlin had pinned him under. 

“I don’t want to die, I just wanted my cut of the money! They promised me a cut, they said this would be an easy job!” 

The owlin took his weight off the tax collectors chest. Morbek and Hesmira had made their way over to the other two. 

“So, who do you serve? Anyone?” Morbek interrogated. 

“No one! No one, I swear! I just saw that this was supposed to be an easy job, easy money!” The man sputtered out. 

Birdie lifted his sword once more, this time to the man’s neck. “You,” He garbled. “Are going to leave, and never come back.”  Birdie removed his sword, leaving a small knick on the man’s neck. 

The man began to scramble to his feet, trying to take off as fast as he could from certain death. He slipped on his and the other tax collectors blood. He tried once again to struggle to his feet. The owlin was less patient with the man’s attempts to escape. With a resounding thwack, the weighted staff crushed the deserter’s head. The owlin made no reflection on the act as he placed his staff back to its origin.

       “Murderers!”

       The four “heroes” turned to face the crowd. More began to raise their voices; “Murderers!” they called out, circling the group. With a sharp whistle from Birdie, the jeering came to a halt.

       “How are we murders to you?” The minotaur barked out. “We just saved you all from men who were about to take everything from you!”

       “We don’t mean them,” One brave person stepped forward, pointing past the four of them. “We mean our guards.”

       “Hang them!”

       “Murderers!”

       “Have them face the chief!”

       The crowd roared in agreement as the town hall’s doors swung open. A bullywog walked through the crowd, his ornamental staff clicking against the stone every so often.

       “Now” The bullwog started, himself face to face with the four accused. He began to speak again, but not before Birdie became sick by the amount of alcohol he had consumed before the battle. Right at the bullywog’s feet. The chief sneered at him in disgust. Birdie offered back an apologetic smile.

       “Now see here,” the chief restarted. “you have saved us from a problem I myself did not want to deal with. Those tax collectors have been bothering us for quite some time.”

       “However, you did kill two of our guards, leaving us vulnerable to attacks that may come our way.”

       “But you let them take money from the townsfolk willingly?” Morbek indicted incredulously.

       “Now, you don’t run this town, I do.” The bullywog puffed out his air sack with a deep rumble of warning. “And as such, I am sentencing you to trial for the murdering of our guards. You will be escorted to Giant’s Foot where you will stand trial in front of Lord Gracious.”

       The owlin took a step forward and began to reach for his staff. “And if we refuse?”

       “Then I will have no problem ending your lives here and now.”

       The sound of large, mounted crossbows moving into position and being loaded was heard. The four realized that they were surrounded, with no way out.

       Morbek slung away his hammer in a sign of surrender. “When do we leave?” he asked, hopeful to cause no more trouble.

       “Immediately.” The chief drawled. He motioned for the carriage driver from before to pick up the four miscreants. “Tell me the name of your group, so I know who to tell Lord Gracious to expect when you arrive in Giant’s Foot.”

       “WE ARE.” Birdie exclaimed, “THE ROGUE FOUR!”

       Protests erupted from the other three. The bullywog sneered again in disgust at Birdie. He composed himself quickly before finishing his letter, placing it on a small falcon and sending it out of the town.

       “The Rogue Four it is. I ask that you hastily make your way to Giant’s Foot. His Graciousness will be expecting you.”

       The four clamored into the empty carriage. Birdie stumbled into the carriage, curling up in a corner, burying his face into the small velvet handkerchief that stuck out of his breast pocket. Morbek climbed in afterwards, turning and bowing to the bullywog chief one last time before sitting in the opposite corner on the same side as Birdie. The minotaur followed, still clutching the wounds on her torso, looking at the halfling that somehow got them all into this mess. The owlin took the last empty corner, contemplating the group’s fate.

       The carriage pulled forward out of the town, leaving in an eerie silence. 

[ravensofdarkwind]

Chapter 1: Moonshine

A carriage pulled silently into the trading town. Moonshine was a small village on the east side of the nation of Moonshire, aptly named for its love of drinks and festivities.

       Out of the carriage poured citizens and travelers alike. Humans, halflings, dwarves, half breeds of any variety all made their way through the town center. Then, some more odd creatures appeared.

       A goblin, his hood raised, a mighty hammer tucked against his hip, thanked the carriage driver for the ride, and tossed the gnome a gold coin.

       An Owlin silently disembarked after. His feet made no sound as they walked across the cobblestone paths, disappearing into the crowd.

       The Minotaur on the other hand made all the noise in the world. She commanded people stay out of her way without saying a word. Her hooves clacked through the streets, demanding respect.

       And finally, the last passenger hopped off the carriage. A small halfling, a radiant smile on his face, ambled his way to the fountain in the center of town. He plucked the viola off his back and unsheathed his sword. Curious people walking by became excited, knowing any bard that wants to perform ought to be worth their time.

The halfling stood on the fountain base, tapping his foot to a beat before raising his sword to the strings. The people watched in anticipation, waiting for a wonderful story in a beautiful song. The halfling smiled, excited to perform for the first time in a new town.

       The sword came down onto the metal strings in a harsh screech. The bard’s smile faltered as he attempted to save the song, somehow making it worse as he went. The congregants quickly departed in groups, disappointed that the new minstrel was worse than the previous one.

       Nearly all the people had left when the halfling finally had gotten a tune going. He sighed, then continued playing, this time letting a small illusion encircle him as the notes echoed to an empty stage. The magic took shape, forming a small dragon on his shoulder. It breathed a white fire, then dissipated with the song as he finished the final bars.

       The halfling jumped off the fountain base, praying the carriage that was leaving town hadn’t departed yet. He began walking back towards the entrance of Moonshine when he stopped. His ears perked up. He couldn’t believe it. It was applause.

       He whirled around in confusion. No one had ever applauded for him before. Well, never during a public performance. 

He looked around for the one who had stayed, and found the being was just as small as he was. A hooded figure continued to politely clap, looking around the ground nearby for a hat to toss his donation in.

       “Thank you, thank you!” The halfling exclaimed. He placed the viola and sword away before approaching the devotee. The being cowered slightly, covering more of their face with the hood.

       “What might I call you, friend?” He stuck his hand out, waiting for a response.

       The being completed the gesture uneasily. “Morbek.” He finally replied. The halfling took this chance to pull Morbek in closer to inspect under his hood.

       “You’re a goblin!” The minstrel blurted out. The goblin shushed him quickly, casting his gaze around the two of them to make sure no one had heard him. “I’ve never met a goblin before!” He continued excitedly.

       The halfling dropped the handshake upon hearing shouting back and forth and the sound of angrily clacking hooves. The two looked over in the direction of the noise and saw the minotaur that had been on the carriage with them. She was shouting at the rooftops, angry homeowners shouting back. She continued to make a scene, stamping her hooves in frustration.

       The goblin knew this was bad news. Minotaurs could level towns if provoked enough. Morbek began to ask the halfling a question on his music but found the halfling was no longer standing next to him.

The halfling saw an opportunity to make a new friend. He jaunted over to the houses, excited to make two friends in one day.

The minotaur blew smoke out of her nose and turned around. She hadn’t even gotten a step in when she saw a halfling look up at her with a guileless expression.

“HI! What are you shouting at?” He inquired.

He waited for a response. He instead got a face full of smoke.

“I was talking to this dude on the roof. He was being super rude, and I have no idea why.” She answered curtly. She began to try to walk past the nosy being and found herself being cut off by his backpedaling.

“Is he your friend?”

She stopped trying to walk by him, frustrated she was being stopped by someone almost half her height. “I wouldn’t say that, but I do need to have another word with him.”

Morbek had made his way over to the houses, carefully avoiding garnering suspicion from the townspeople and guards that milled about.

“What seems to be the problem?” Morbek asked timidly.

The halfling turned to him and pointed back at the minotaur. “She was telling me her friend on the roof ran off, and she needs to talk to him again, so we’re gonna go find him!”

The other two looked at him flabbergasted. Neither of them knew what to say before he linked his arms in between theirs and began to direct them towards the nearest tavern.

“Now, if I were your friend,” The halfling rambled, still somehow holding them together tightly despite his size. “I would go to the bar because the bartender knows everything about everyone. And chances are, he’s gonna be asking about you too!”

The goblin and minotaur looked at each other, confused how a man could have so much confidence and so little common sense. They followed along anyways, unlinking their arms to better walk through the crowd.

“I never got your name, friend.” Morbek asserted.

The halfling turned to him and beamed. He had gone so long without an audience, much less a friend, he couldn’t contain his excitement for someone asking for his name. The three of them stood outside the tavern doors, hearing a mix of conversation and song echo inside.

“I’m Birdie!” He answered.

Morbek processed the name as the halfling opened the door for the tow of them. The name felt a little on the nose, but it was special to Birdie, and he wouldn’t trade it for anything.

The tavern was decently full, drunks already tipsy with their third or fourth drinks of the day.

Birdie paraded in, making his way to the main bar and hopping up onto one of the stools with a bit of effort. Morbek followed suit, taking the stool directly right. Birdie knocked twice on the counter to gain the bartender’s attention. The human turned around, continuing to polish a mug that had recently been washed.

“Hi! I’m Birdie.” He introduced excitedly.

The bartender offered a strained smile. “What can I do for ya?” He asked cordially.

“My friend over there,” Birdie explained, pointing to the minotaur who had yet to give him her name, “is looking for her friend. I don’t know his name, but she said he could fly. Is there anyone in here that fits that description, sir?”

The bartender stopped polishing the mug for a second and blinked. “I don’t know if there’s anyone here that fits that description. Minotaurs usually travel in packs, and she’s the only one I’ve seen in quite some time. Besides, Minotaurs can’t fly, so I can’t help ya there.”

Birdie put his hand back on the counter, a bit disappointed. He always went to the bar when he needed answers, and this was the first time he had been let down.

“Now, I can’t help ya there, but how ‘bout a drink?” The bartender offered.

Birdie perked up again. He was always ready for a drink, especially because it meant that people were more likely to become his friend. He ordered a jug of ale, reaching into his pockets to pay for it.

The bartender pulled out the largest jug Birdie had ever seen. Birdie’s eyes glowed with excitement. He tossed the bartender a handful of gold coins, greedily grabbing the jug to begin his quest to finish it.

The bartender hastily took the coins and shoved them into a small leather pouch marked with the date. He tied it shut, then turned his attention to Morbek. “Anything for ya?” He asked.

Morbek readjusted his hood again. “A small glass of plum wine, please.”

The bartender poured him the glass, carefully placing the goblet in front of the goblin as Morbek counted out his gold. He handed the gold over, which was treated with the same haste as the halfling’s.

Birdie was around halfway done with the jug when he heard a surprised hoot come from one of the alcoves to his left. He was too drunk to care when the owlin stood up and left the tavern. He didn’t even notice his “friend” leave after him, a wicked smile on her face as she followed her prey.

Birdie continued to drink his ale, determined that he would finish it while listening to Morbek and the bartender speak.

“So, why are you so worried about how much money you’re making today? It seems like business is doing fine.” Morbek probed.

The bartender let out a sigh. “You don’t understand, you’re not from here, are ya? The tax collectors are coming.” He picked up the leather pouch he had placed money into earlier. “But every time they come to Moonshine, they take more and more from us. I hope this is enough to appease them.”

Birdie had done it. He finished the whole jug of ale. He grinned at Morbek as he slammed the tankard into the bar counter, reaching into his pocket to pay for a second one. He dropped the coins when he heard shouting emerge from outside the tavern.

Morbek hurriedly jumped off the barstool and made his way outside. Birdie dropped the idea of a second drink to follow him, curious about the shouting and the reaction Morbek had had to it.

He opened the bar doors to see the minotaur and the owlin conversingly tensely with each other.

“What’s. Goin’ on?” Birdie slurred, his mind unable to think of anything else.

“The tax collectors.” The owlin and Morbek said in unison.

The center of town now had six humanoid figures lining up the townsfolk. They were unchallenged as they roughly shoved people into lines, threatening them with clubs and swords. Two of the figures stood on the outside of the people, crossbows loaded with bolts in case anyone tried to run. Two held swords, slashing at people if they fell out of formation. The two largest figures were snatching the money from the people, checking the weight and total of each purse before tossing them all into a large pile.

The owlin and goblin looked at each other in understanding. The owlin swiftly turned on his heels and walked towards the outer wall of the town. With a quick flap of his wings, he leapt over the wall, and disappeared from plain view.

The bar doors opened again. The bartender shook as he walked, quivering as he whispered to himself over and over again. “I sure hope I have enough for today.” Birdie heard as he sulked by.

The minotaur began to sneak her way around the outside of the houses, hiding herself against the shadows of the outer wall. Morbek followed, carefully following on worn stones to muffle his footsteps.

Birdie, however, did not have such stealth in mind. He noticed Morbek follow the minotaur, and wondering where his new friend was going, started to follow him. Loudly.

“Where are we going?!” Birdie shouted, drunkenly stumbling after the other two.

“HEY!”

The three turned towards the source of the shout. A man pointed directly at them.

“I see you there! We said everyone get in the town square and pay up, and that includes you! Get in line!”

The sound of a scuffle was suddenly heard from the front of the town where the guards had stayed put to keep anyone outside from interfering with the collection process. The crowd turned to look at the fight, exclaiming and running to the houses.

The minotaur lowered her horns and charged at the tax collector. 

[ravensofdarkwind]

INTRODUCTION

Hey there! My name is Finnch, and this is a compiling of mine and my friends Dnd Campaign, the Ravens of Darkwind! It’s a fun story, and I’d love to share it here. I hope y’all enjoy the story as much as I did!

Happy reading!,

Finnch