John knelt beside the smashed table that the little goblin Cook was laying on. He knew she was gone before he started searching for a pulse on her neck and then her wrist. Her eyes were open, staring blankly at the place he’d been standing when the hobgoblin had attacked him. With a shaking hand he closed those eyes. Tears ran down his cheeks. He’d barely known her but his grief was a deep well. His chest burned, he could barely breath. He wanted to find her killer and avenge her but he was in no shape to do that. Dingo Boy lay on the floor next to the wreckage of the table with sad, watery eyes.
The Warrior went into the kitchen and grabbed a frying pan from the shelves. He saw the blood trail on the ground, and, once again considered tracking down the huge hobgoblin. He would do that but after he was healed and after he completed his current task. Vengeance was not his priority. The beautiful chime that rang out went completely unnoticed by him. He put the pan into one of his pockets and returned to the female goblin grabbing Shirak from the table it was on as he passed. With a grunt of pain he knelt and gathered her into his arms. She was a very light load and a terribly heavy one at the same time. The Heeler stood and followed him as he carried her to the secret entrance she had shown him. He searched for a moment then pressed a stone in the wall and the door, made of several stones, swung out. Once they were inside the passage he pressed another stone on the inside and closed the door. They started off in the direction she’d told him to go.
“John?” said Nath-esh. The man didn’t answer. “Are you okay John?” Still no answer.
They traveled through the secret way in silence. After a couple of turns John paused at an intersection, unsure which direction to go. Dingo Boy, who’d paid attention when the goblin Cook gave the directions to the man, took the right way and John followed him. Eventually the passage ended in a wall. He looked for the configuration of stones that marked the door trigger and he pressed the center one. Several stones swung open silently and he stepped into the wide hallway. To his right, far down the corridor, he saw two large ornate wooden doors. Two hulking hobgoblins stood in front of those doors, they had not noticed him. He closed the hidden way and gently laid the little body on the floor near the wall across from it.
John drew his revolver and cocked the hammer to use it in single action mode. The sound was not loud but in the silent corridor it was enough to cause the hobgoblins to turn toward him. The one on the left died with a hole in the side of its head before it completed that turn. The report echoed through the halls behind him. The one on the right died with a hole in its forehead as it reached for its sword. The report began its own cascade of echoes before the first set had died away. He holstered the gun with its faintly glowing cylinder.
With gentle care he picked up the goblin Cook and walked to the doors. The beam that would have secured them was not in place. It was tossed on the floor of the wide hallway. The guards must have kept the doors unlocked so they could step out to get some air or see to the necessary call of nature. John didn’t even glance down at their corpses when he reached them. He lifted his leg and placed the sole of his boot against the door on the right. He pushed and the door resisted. He strained and the door swung open a bit. Pain flared in his still injured chest with the effort. He squeezed sideways through the opening carrying the little body.
There was a trail outside of the doors, not much more than a game trail, leading into the forest. John followed it and heard a babble of water in the distance. He moved toward that sound and soon came to a stream. In the moonlight he saw a blueberry bush that had clearly been picked over recently. Several paces off of the trail he found a clearing with a view of the moon in the sky. He placed the little cook there and began looking for rocks. It didn’t take long to make the cairn, the stones were plentiful and the body small. When he was done he reached into his pocket and withdrew the pan he’d taken from the kitchen. He set it on the ground and withdrew the knife the female goblin had given him. He used it to scratch two words on the surface of the copper. They were crude and in a language no one in this world spoke, they were ‘Little Cook’. He placed it on top of the stones to mark her grave.
He made the sign of the cross and said, “Bless her and keep her. She may not have known you Lord but she was a gentle and good soul. I’ll see her again at the end of my journey.” John believed it and that belief made the loss the littlest bit easier. He heard a beautiful chime ring followed by another and then another.
They stayed by the grave for a little while then the man returned to the trail and walked back toward the large doors. Dingo Boy did not want to return to the underground place. He took the lead and when they reached a branch in the trail he took the direction leading away from the hobgoblins, goblins, great rats, and giant snakes. John paused at the intersection and the dog called to him through the mind-leash. The man hesitated but, in the end, followed his buddy away.
Dingo Boy knew that John wanted to return to the underground place to kill the evil creature who’d killed their friend. Retribution would have to wait for another time. His priority was getting his companion to a place where he could heal. The ‘Good Boy Contract’ was clear on the subject of keeping the man safe. Lynn had once assigned him that duty as well. It was the last time he’d seen the woman he loved so much. The thought of her created a beacon inside him. He was drawn toward it and, at the same time, the trail he was on seemed to light up in his mind’s eye. It did not lead directly in the direction of the beacon but it would bring him, them both, closer to it. He kept moving knowing he’d be followed by John.
Eventually they met up with a narrow dirt road, it smelled like the same one they’d been on when they first came to this forest. The path of light going toward the beacon went to the right and so the Heeler started trotting that way. John yelled for him to stop. Instead of stopping he moved from a trot to a light jog. He heard the man utter a foul word and start running to catch up. There was gasping and groaning from behind him. Dingo Boy hated putting the Warrior through the pain but healing would come over time. This went on for a long while and eventually they reached the fields and the burned farms of Knollburah.
As John’s pace slowed to a walk Nath-esh stepped out of his anchor using astral projection. He walked alongside the man and watched as he clutched his chest, breathing hard and scolding the Heeler. The jogging had hurt him but the dog was intent on getting him away from the hobgoblins. The Angelic Shard agreed with Dingo Boy. John was in no shape to fight. Especially not the number of goblins and hobgoblins the average tribe would have.
The dog kept going. He was moving at a walk now but he kept going and that kept John going. Then the Warrior spotted the burned out ruin of a farmhouse in the moonlight. He slowed and stopped and stared for a moment changing Shirak from torch mode to floodlight mode to get a better look. The dog didn’t like it and barked at him. John looked at the Heeler ahead on the road and said, “Hush Dingo Boy.” He did not hush. Instead he sat on the trail and whined until the man started walking toward him. He wagged his tail and waited but when John was close he turned and started down the road again. “Where are you going?” John asked but the Cattle Dog just kept going.
Resigned, the man followed looking back at the burned farm as he did. As they kept going they encountered the other burned out farms. He stopped at every one looking at the carnage. “What do you think happened here?” the revolver asked the man.
“I don’t know. When I saw the first burned buildings I thought it must have been some kind of accident. This doesn’t look like an accident, it looks like some kind of attack happened here.”
“Great, out of the frying pan.”
“I don’t think so,” John said to the gun, “do you remember the jars, and bottles, and the other containers in the cupboard in the kitchen… back there?”
“Yeah I do.”
“They didn’t fit that place, they didn’t look like they belonged together either, like they came from a few different places. I think this is where they came from.” He swept his hand around while he said it.
“You think the tribe did this?” asked the gun but no answer came. He looked over at the man who had stopped walking and followed his gaze. Up ahead there was light. The narrow road had a torch on a pole on either side of it. Beyond the torches the road ended at a pair of large gates that were set in tall wooden walls.
“Who’s down theah, now?” asked a voice from the top of the wall as John approached.
“My name is John,” responded the Warrior. Dingo Boy, walking next to him, barked his loudest bark, “and this is Dingo Boy.” he added.
“Ya sound peculiah an’ thet light ya got is strange. Wheah’d ya come from?” asked the man that John assumed was a town guard. That he could see the holy light reassured the Warrior. Now he needed to reassure the guardsmen in return. He twisted the base of Shirak, changing it to torch mode. He held it up so the guard could get a good look at his face.
“We came from,” John was about to say ‘far away’ but realized that sounded evasive. He thought of the position of the sun when they’d been hiking earlier and said, “the south.”
“The south, huh?” asked the man, “ya mean t’say…?” he cut off and peered into the darkness outside of the light cast by the torches on their tall poles flanking the road. “Attack! Alahm! Attack!” yelled the guard and a loud bell began to clang.
John looked around and saw three big hobgoblins with swords and about a dozen goblins with knives coming up the road behind him. When they saw him looking at them they charged. The Warrior drew and fired in one motion. The middle hobgoblin hit the ground with a hole in his chest and the gunshot echoed in the night. The bell went silent. The remaining hobgoblins spread out and ran at John in arcs from the right and the left and half the goblins turned and fled into the trees. Dingo Boy raced forward, leapt, and took a goblin by the throat. He savaged the green creature and pulled away a chuck of flesh. The goblin fell to the ground choking and gurgling. John turned and shot the hobgoblin on the right straight through his left eye, he toppled and the crash of the gun echoed off of the wooden walls. He turned to the remaining hobgoblin just in time to jump back from a sword stroke that would have taken him in the neck. He backed up and put a torch on its pole between him and the creature. Dingo Boy dodged a thrust from a goblin’s knife and, before his attacker could recover, he grabbed it by the ankle and pulled it off balance. When the creature fell to the ground the dog tore out his throat. The monster that was facing off with John cut the pole between them in half and the torch tumbled to the ground. The dramatic sword swing had far too much force behind it and the hobgoblin took a half step to the left to recover its balance. John stepped to his left and the revolver roared as he shot the hobgoblin in the temple. Dingo Boy backed toward John growling at four goblins who followed him brandishing their blades. The Warrior shot three of them in quick succession, the gunshots splitting the night. The revolver’s cylinder was glowing fainting as Nath-esh reloaded the spent rounds one at a time. The goblin changed its grip on the knife, holding it by the tip, preparing to throw it at the man with the gun. The glowing round winked out and the next one became illuminated. The gun roared again, and the goblin toppled over backward with a hole in his head.
“By Gorry, what was thet!?!” the guard yelled from the top of the wall. “Stay theah, ya stay right theah!”
Mayor Huewen Srives was sitting at his table in the Wolf’s Head Inn. It wasn’t officially his table but it was always kept open for him unless he arrived for supper very late. It was one of a few tables in the common room that only sat four and it was kept open for him out of love and respect. This was his tenth year as Mayor of Knollburah. There was an election every year and, in a few of them, he ran unopposed. He was known for being fair and just and genuinely concerned about the welfare of the town and its people.
These were hard times and the list of his worries was longer than he liked. Monsters were at the top of that list. Hobgoblins and goblins to be precise. Meat in short supply, crops that needed to be harvested and replanted, the future of farming in general, interrupted trade, and many more issues occupied that list as well. They were under a kind of siege and unless he found a way to break it the town was doomed. Any day now people would begin to leave, to move away.
A clanging bell interrupted his worried contemplations. The gate alarm, the south gate by the sound of it! What now? Another attack? Then another sound rang out louder than the bell. It was similar to a nail being driven by a hammer but much louder. The bell stopped ringing and the sharp sound came again. Without the clang of the bell the Mayor could hear it clearer and decided it was not as much like hammering as he thought.
Sebastian Legue and his hunting party was at a table nearby with Hanis Gruber, Warren Michaud, and his daughter Joy. The entire common room reacted to the bell, looking up from their meals, but the strange sharp sound brought the three members of the hunting party to their feet. When the second such sound rang out the three of them ran for the door.
Mayor Srives stood and straightened his vest. He tossed a few coins on the table to pay for his meal and his drinks then added one more to tip Tannyah. He followed the young men out of the inn as another of the sharp sounds rang out. When he reached the door he heard Hanis and Warren bid the Bartender, Owen, a good night as they prepared to leave to safeguard their families.
John holstered Nath-esh and sat on the ground to wait as he had been told. He watched the road and the treeline around them. He could hear voices through the gate behind him. He was, of course, the topic of much discussion. Dingo Boy came to him to lick his face and the Warrior checked the dog for injuries. He wanted to make sure the Heeler didn’t take a wound during that fight. Having more poultice on hand would be a good idea. He thought about the plant he’d used for it and wondered if the dog had anything better in his pouches. Was there a way to dump the pouches out and sift through their contents?
“Hey John,” said the firearm, interrupting his thoughts.
“Yeah?”
“I’m sorry John.” The man was going to ask ‘for what’ but the somber tone in the gun’s usually mischievous voice made it clear.
“Thanks,” said the Warrior.
“I need you to know something, partner. She could see Shirak’s holy light. She wasn’t evil.”
“I know, I saw her looking at it, but I could tell anyway without that. Dingo Boy could tell too.”
“Do you think she had anything to do with the burned farms?” asked the gun. “I mean, do you think she was there?”
“Not if she had a choice, Nath-esh. There was stuff in the kitchen from the farms, I’m sure of that. She may even have taken it. I can’t imagine her being a part of burning the places and if anyone got hurt I’m sure she didn’t do that either. She cooked, I think that was her thing.”
“Yeah, John, I think you’re right. By the way, it might be a good time to check out your status screen while we have some down time.”
“Maybe next time, I don’t want to sit here and stare at nothing with an audience watching,” said the man.
They sat in silence for a while. He set Shirak on the ground next to him and listened as the number of voices inside the gates grew. There was more than one man on the wall now as well. He could hear the guard up there telling someone about what he’d seen John do during the fight with the hobgoblins and goblins.
A flicker of movement caught John’s eye and a blade sailed out of the darkness from the left side of the road. It sank into Dingo Boy’s left shoulder. He let out a short yelp and tried to take a step. The knife and the wound it made were keeping him from moving normally. Before the man could stop the dog from doing it he turned his head and pulled the knife from his own shoulder. Blood pumped from the wound a few times but the flow started to diminish quickly.
John saw another flash of movement from the left and pushed the Heeler to the right, out of the way. The attack wasn’t meant for the dog and the action saved the man from a knife to the throat. It hit his shoulder and the armored jacket stopped it. John flinched from the hard poke. He drew his gun as he stood. Another knife flew from the darkness, this time from the ride side of the road. It was a solid miss, sticking in the gate behind him.
Six figures ran from the treeline. Three came from each side of the road. John heard someone on the wall yell, “Goblins!”
Dingo Boy limped toward a goblin who had, apparently, thrown his knife. It had no blade, instead it came with wickedly clawed hands extended. The Cattle Dog’s shoulder started healing, the now familiar tingle filled the wound. It still caused him to limp as he ran though. Instead of jumping at the goblin’s throat he ducked under its clawed swipe and bit. He grabbed the apparently male goblin by the crotch and savaged him. He heard someone on the wall yell, “Oh by Gorry!” and a few other people groaned. The goblin screamed and grabbed at the dog to stop him. Dingo Boy’s Escape Artist skill made it impossible for the goblin to get any purchase on him and the armor of his harness protected him from the creature’s claws. He tugged and shook his head and came away with a mouthful of meat which he spat on the ground. The goblin fell backward in shock and the dog tore out his throat.
Nath-esh fired at John’s bidding and one of the two remaining goblins near the Cattle Dog fell with a hole in his head. Thunder rolled across the clearing and the people on the other side of the gate reacted with surprised shouts. The firearm felt exhilarated! John spun and faced the three goblins running at him. One of them brandished a knife and he shot that goblin in the chest, thunder rolled through the clearing again. Someone on the top of the wall said, “It’s so loud, what kind of weapon is thet?” John spun and kicked one of the two remaining goblins in the head, there was a solid thunk and it pitched over. When it hit the ground, a knife skittered away from it. He spun again and another goblin fell to another kick. Two shots finished them both and twin peals of thunder filled the air.
A scream of agony came from behind them and John turned and aimed. The revolver saw Dingo Boy latched onto another goblin by the crotch. He was trying to stab the dog but his harness armor was protecting him. John shot the goblin through the head and thunder rolled for the final time. Nath-esh started reloading all of the chambers at once while the man holding him scanned the road and the treeline for any more threats then holstered the firearm.
“Thet’s three hobs an’ a dozen goblins thet man killed,” said the voice of the guard from the top of the wall.
“Thet dog’s killed a few of them, ayuh,” said an unfamiliar voice.
“Can’t ovehlook him neitheh,” said another unfamiliar voice.
“Eitheh, Greg,” a third new voice corrected the second.
“Yep, thet’s jest what I told ya, Tim!” replied the man named Greg.
“Well, Mayah, what are we gonna do? Leave thet fella out theah all night?” asked the first voice.
“No,” said a new voice, “no we’re not. This man might jest be the answeh to many a prayeh. Gahdsman, keep yar bows at the ready. Not f’ thet fella, mind ya. Keep the way safe while we get him in the gates!”
Through the gates John heard a couple of ‘thunks’ and many, many grunts punctuated by the occasional squeak. A minute later they swung out toward him. Over a dozen people stood inside of them waiting for him. They were dressed in a mix of renaissance fair and early American frontier. They urgently waved him in and backed up to give them room as he and Dingo Boy entered the town. The gates behind him thudded shut and he saw a mechanism of pulleys and ropes attached to the inside of each gate that were used to lock and unlock them.
An older man with silver hair, watery blue eyes and a once powerful build stepped forward with his hand extended to shake. He was wearing nice clothing and struck John as someone who had once labored but now worked at a desk. “Mayah Huewen Srives,” he said as John shook his hand.
“Mayor of?” John prompted.
“Knollburah,” said Huewen, “the town of Knollburah of course.”
“I’m John, John Lawson,” John said and the Heeler walked over a little stiffly to sit pointedly at the Warrior’s feet. “That’s Dingo Boy.” he said, gesturing to his companion.
“Pleasure t’ meet ya, John. We got a comfortable spot heah in town with food an’ drink. Mind headin’ theah so’s we can talk?” asked the Mayor.
“Okay,” said John wearily, “I’d like that.” What he actually wanted was a safe place to sleep but that would have to wait. He didn’t know these people and they didn’t know him and that bridge would have to be built. Afterward he’d ask about a bed for the night.
The entire crowd followed the two men and the dog as they walked through the town. Knollburah looked like it was plucked out of an old western movie and plopped down in the countryside of England. The buildings could have been found in any early American town. The cobblestone streets and fences and the gardens he glimpsed behind the buildings reminded him of the summer she spent exploring the English countryside. They passed several chicken coupes that seemed to be new additions. It was getting late and the streets were deserted except for their group.
“Didn’t thet dog theah take a knife t’ the shouldah?” John heard a man ask. He looked down at his buddy who was walking without so much as a hitch to his step.
“Did ya see him? Tough as nails. Ain’t seen no dog so tough in my life, by Gorry.” The Cattle Dog’s walk turned into a prance.
“Ain’t seen any dog so tough Greg!”
“Not a one, Tim, not a one.”
By John’s estimate they were approaching the center of the town when they stopped in front of a surprisingly large building. With an entrance door at the left end and a row of windows to the right of that as well as a second story comprising of one long row of windows he guessed its purpose immediately. The sign above the door that read ‘Wolf’s Head Inn’ confirmed his suspicion.
“Right this way heah, John. Want somethin’ t’ eat? How ’bout a pint of ale maybe?” He accompanied the Mayor through the door. Dingo Boy followed them through like he owned the place.
“Get thet dog outta heah, now. No dogs allow…” The tall, slightly rotund man behind the bar was cut off by an imploring look from the Mayor. The common room was sparsely populated, the few people at the bar or inhabiting the tables glanced at them and returned to their drinks. No one seemed to be eating at this late hour. “Fine, the common room’s closin’ soon anyhow,” said the man as he disappeared through a doorway at one end of the bar.
“Let’s sit right heah,” the Mayor said, gesturing to a table for four.
“Mayah Huewen, maybe a biggeh table? I’d like t’ join ya fellas if ya don’t mind.” The speaker was a tall man who was accompanied by a slightly shorter but very muscular man and a stout man with black curly hair. The Mayor started to protest but a tall young woman with red hair and green eyes showed John to a table for six and sat him at the head of it. The tall young man who suggested a bigger table pulled out a chair to the Warrior’s left and Dingo Boy jumped into it and sat at the table politely. Another young woman with red curls, this one shorter than the other but clearly related to her, smiled and laughed at the dog. Dingo Boy gave an open mouth grin and let his tongue loll to the side. The young man with all the muscles took the seat next to the Cattle Dog and the shorter of the two women stood behind him. The tall young man took the chair to John’s right. The stout young man sat to that man’s right. The Mayor, seeing only one place to sit left at the table virtually dived into the chair at the end opposite John.
“Pint each, all ’round?” asked the taller of the two redheads.
“Ayuh, ayuh, all ’round please, an’ thank ya,” said Huewen.
“Not on my tab!” said the man next to the Heeler.
“One f’ me too please, Tannyah,” said the woman behind him.
“Comin’ t’ help Joy? I figuhe a few mohsels wouldn’t go amiss f’ this crowd.”
“Uncle Owen’s not gonna like thet. Kitchen’s been shut down f’ an hour now.”
“He’ll do awright so long theah’s no real cookin’ gets done, cousin.” The two women headed off toward the bar.
John reached out and scratched Dingo Boy’s cheek and behind his ear. The dog growled a little in pleasure then lay down on the chair in a tight curl. None of the men seemed to know where to start. After a few moments of awkward silence the man to John’s right said, “I’m Sebastian,” he offered his hand and the Warrior shook it. He pointed at the man next to the Cattle Dog and said, “Thet theah’s my cousin Timmon.” Timmon stood and shook with John. “Thet’s Gregory right heah beside me” Gregory also stood and shook John’s hand. “Ya’ve met Mayah Huewen.” The Mayor opened his mouth to speak but Tannyah and Joy returned at that moment. The Barmaid distributed wooden mugs of ale and the Seamstress placed wooden plates of sliced bread, cheese, and pickled vegetables on the table. Sebastian nodded at Tannyah and said, “Thet’s Tannyah theah, an’ the otheh one’s her cousin Joy.” They both curtsied and Joy gave Sebastian a rebuking glare for calling her ‘the otheh one’.
“I’m John,” the Warrior introduced himself then gestured to the Cattle Dog, “and he’s Dingo Boy.” Joy curtsied to the merle Heeler who folded his ears back, wagged his tail, and smiled broadly. John turned to the young women and said, “Thank you very much for the food and drinks.” The smell of cheese on the table set Dingo Boy to sniffing. He whined softly looking at the food then at John who broke off a small piece and tossed it to him with a tall arch. The Cattle Dog caught it and licked his lips. Joy laughed and clapped in delight. “Sorry, he loves cheese,” apologized the man. He took a small bite of his own and said, “This is delicious by the way.”
The Mayor opened his mouth to speak as Sebastian put a handkerchief on the table and picked it up by one corner, a small metal mushroom fell out of it. “I’d wager ya know what thet theah is?” he asked John.
“Where’d ya get that?”
“Dug it outta the ground right undah a dead rat in the woods. It was one of the big ones, an’ this thing went right through its head an’ inta the dirt afteh.” said the Hunter.
“That’s a bullet.”
“A what now?”
John drew his revolver. All of the men at the table and both of the women stared at it in a mix of amazement and apprehension. He opened the cylinder and pulled out a round from one of the chambers. He held it up for all to see. “This is what it looked like before I shot the rat. The end of this at least, the top part. It’s only that part that fires from my gun.” He returned the round to the cylinder, closed it, and reholstered it.
“Are you sure that was a good idea?” asked Nath-esh in his mind.
“I have no idea. I’m running on instinct. I’m exhausted, give me a break,” John thought back to the firearm.
“Thet’s the thing thet made them loud booms an’ killed them hobs an’ goblins?” asked Timmon.
“Wheah does a fella come by one of them theah?” asked Gregory.
“I don’t know of anywhere you could get one around here.” John replied truthfully.
“Fetch thet from wheah ya come from? Long way off theah? I neveh heard a soul talk the way ya do, sharp an’ smooth all together jest so.” If the man named Timmon sounded any less friendly and sincere the Warrior would have felt interrogated.
“I’ve come farther than the map shows,” John said and Mayor Huewen Srives nodded as if it was the wisest thing he’d ever heard.
“Hunt with thet? Thet what ya were doin’?” asked the Hunter.
“I wasn’t hunting when I killed that rat or the others for that matter.”
“The othehs?” asked Tannyah, leaning on Sebastian’s shoulders.
John told them he was traveling from the south in search of his wife. He began his story on the narrow road in the forest and shared everything that had happened, omitting the little Cook from his tale. He didn’t know why but he felt he needed to protect her memory. When he told the part or his story where he fell through the hole into the stone corridor Joy gasped. When he described being attacked by the hobgoblins and narrowly escaping the young men at the table exchanged looks. When he talked about walking by the burned out farmhouses Gregory told him about the Night of Fire and Horror. There was a moment of solemn silence at the table afterward.
“What do ya want t’ take out every hobgoblin an’ goblin in Kiningdom Burruh?” asked the Mayor, taking advantage of the silence and getting right to business, “We don’t have much t’ speak of, but this town’s doomed without yar help.”
Dingo Boy liked Joy. Not just because she kept sneaking him bits of cheese and bread and not just because of the attention she was lavishing on him. He liked her because, when he checked her out with his mind-leash he found that she was an extremely loving person. He’d looked into everyone in the common room and then some. Not just the people at the table but everyone in his range. He’d learned to find people he couldn’t even see. The more he used the mind-leash the more he could do with it. Now he could sense the minds around him and their locations relative to his own. Not everyone within his range was good but none of them were evil. None of them would harm him or John.
The Mayor was full of worry for his town and its people. He saw John as the answer to saving both which left the dog vaguely concerned. He knew they were going back to the underground place to fight. Now that they were healed he was looking forward to it. Those terrible dog-sized rats had to go. Hopefully John had learned not to underestimate the huge hobgoblins.
Sebastian was filled with satisfaction at having the mystery of the little metal mushroom solved. Now he was looking at John as the new mystery. There didn’t seem to be any harm in that as far as he could tell.
Timmon was a simple soul who just wanted to serve. He liked Joy a lot which made him a great judge of character in the Cattle Dog’s estimation. He wondered if she fed the Packer cheese under the table like she did for him.
Gregory was sad inside. He was hiding it really well from everyone. The scent of grief and loss on him was thick. Dingo Boy wished he could help but he didn’t know how. Maybe he should ask Nath-esh about it.
Tannyah was kind and helpful. She loved the Hunter and the dreams of a future with him she held in her mind were almost clear enough to smell. In those dreams they had many kids with red hair and green eyes and they owned this place together.
Then there was Joy who loved her family and loved her friends and loved the muscular Packer most of all. She had always loved him as far back as she had memories. The nature of that love had changed over time but it had always been there. That kind of loyalty was something the Cattle Dog really appreciated and respected.
Owen Jacobs tried to close his common room three times before he asked Tannyah to do it when the time came and headed to bed. The sliced bread, cheese, and pickled vegetables were long gone and everyone had switched from ale to water. Two more chairs had been crowded into place around the table. Joy sat in one between Timmon and Dingo Boy. She was petting the Heeler and scratching him behind his ears as he sprawled into her lap growling occasionally. It’d taken her a little time to get used to his growling but John had assured her it wasn’t a warning or sign of malice. The Warrior had agreed to accompany some guards to the place he now knew of as Kiningdom Burruh to destroy the evil there. When he did that he heard two chimes sound from nowhere and everywhere. He was concerned about the possibility that some of the creatures there might be good like the little goblin Cook. Nath-esh assured him that Dingo Boy could verify the nature of the creatures they’d encounter. He could tell if they were good or evil. John wasn’t sure how that worked. He’d have to ask Nath-esh more about it later. Holding a conversation with the gun in his head while talking to the people at the table was too difficult. After agreeing to go the Mayor had thanked John and told him about the struggles the town was facing.
“There was a Tinker attacked by goblins on the road?” John asked.
“Ayuh, the poor fella was beat near t’ death an’ lost most of his wares.” said Tannyah.
“Copper pots and pans?”
“Ayuh! Wooden buckets also as I recall. How’d ya know thet?”
“I found them and some other things in a kitchen in that place,” He said. He knew the name of the underground kingdom now but the hunting party called it ‘that place’ and that felt right to John.
“Hour has gone past late an’ inta early. We ought t’ all get some sleep,” said the Mayor. “Got a room f’ our guest?” he asked the Barmaid.
“Ayuh, we do. Come along, I’ll show ya wheah the room is.” Tannyah said to John.
The hunting party clapped his back as they turned to leave. John liked the three young men. They were outdoorsmen and, in his world, they’d have been blue collar workers just like him. The Warrior’s family was made up of their sort and so was his limited friends group. Dingo Boy sat up and licked Joy’s face a few times to say good-bye then jumped down to the floor and yawned and stretched. “Could I use the restroom before turning in?” Everyone gave him blank looks. “Privy?” he tried again, using a word he’d heard in a period piece movie once.
“Out back. See the buildin’ with doors all in a row ‘cross the yard. I’ll take ya t’ yar room afteh” said the tall young woman. She turned to the Hunter and blew him a discrete kiss as he went out the front door.
Immediately after going out the back door the Heeler started marking everything. John pulled Shirak from his pocket and opened it slightly creating a conservative flashlight. He shined it across the yard and saw the long building lined with doors. He chose one at random and found a modest but clean outhouse. There was a bucket of corn husks in one corner that he guessed were there for wiping. He certainly hoped so because that’s what he used some for after doing his business. When he left the outhouse he found the Cattle Dog pooping in a corner of the yard. He picked it up with a few of the corn husks and dropped them into an outhouse hole.
Back in the inn Tannyah used an oil lamp to guide John and Dingo Boy to a room at the end of the hall on the bottom floor. When they entered she lit a small wooden stick with her lamp and used it to light a similar lamp on the bedside.
“The bed’s theah, it’s a featheh one, ayuh. Heah’s a chest of drawahs f’ yar belongin’s…” she drifted off as she realized the man had nothing to store. “Got a pitcheh and bowl f’ washin’ on thet table theah an’ got a chambah pot in the cornah if ya need it. Back dooh’s unlocked if ya’d ratheh use the privy. Most folk do.” she said pointedly. “Put out the lamp before ya fall asleep, if ya would.”
“Thank you, Tannyah.” He struggled a little with the unfamiliar name, almost calling her Tanya but he caught himself at the last moment. “Have a good night.”
“Sleep well, John. Breakfast comes eahly, but I figuhe theah’ll be somethin’ if ya wake late.” The Barmaid stepped out of the door and closed it quietly.
“Check your stats!”
“I’m exhausted, Nash.”
“You called me Nash and we’re not even killing anything!”
“I’m just tired. It’s been a really long day. This is a very comfortable bed and… uh…”
“John?”
The Angelic Shard materialized in the room and looked around. The jacket with his anchor in it was hanging from the bedpost. John’s pants and shirt were tossed on the floor with his socks. The Cattle Dog was laying on his back atop the blankets on the near side of the bed snoring lightly. His body was bent into a horseshoe with his front feet stretched into the air toward the ceiling. Nath-esh was no expert on sleeping but that did not look comfortable. John was on the far side of the bed curled up on his side, sleeping.
“How was their first day?” asked a booming whisper. The little Virtue spun around and found the full sized Virtue he had been spawned from ducking to fit in the room. His wings were folded tightly on his back and their tips were smooshed against the ceiling and brushed the floor.
“Nathanael! What are you doing here? Do you do this? Follow around the Purgated I mean?”
“No, it is not a thing I usually do but I wanted to make sure they had a good start. How did they do Shard?”
“Nath-esh,” corrected the Angelic Shard.
“He gave you a name?” Nathanael asked.
“He wanted to know my name and one thing led to another…”
“Nath-esh,” the angel said the name, “Given fire?”
“It seemed appropriate.”
“How did they do Nath-esh?”
“They both almost died. Well, maybe not almost died but they took some impressive wounds. They lost a friend too.”
“Why did they get injured? It should have been an easy walk to this town.”
“Well, there was the fight with the giant rat in the forest. Only the rat got hurt that time. Then Dingo Boy fell down a hole into that dungeon place. Another rat was down there and it hurt him really bad. Then John fell down the hole and we shot the rat.”
“It looks like he survived and healed,” said the Virtue. “Was it painful for him?”
“It wasn’t a picnic. The fight with the rat in the dark seemed to be pretty hard on him. After that John and I killed a bunch more rats. Then John made a friend, we ate an early dinner, then John’s new friend got killed. We buried her…”
“He made a friend in a dungeon?” the angel asked.
“Yeah, a goblin, she was a Cook.”
“Goblins are afraid of fire, Nath-esh”
“I know, she was really something special. She could see the holy light and everything.” the little Virtue said wistfully, “He took her death pretty hard, especially considering that they’d only known each other for a few hours.”
“He has honor and a big heart and experience with loss.”
“Yeah, yeah he does. Anyway when she was murdered he shot a couple of hobgoblins, one nearly killed him but he killed it instead, then we jogged in the dark for a long time. We made it here, killed some more hobgoblins and goblins…”
“There were hobgoblins and goblins in this town?”
“I think they followed us,” Nath–esh said, “After we killed them, the hobgoblins and goblins, you should have seen where Dingo Boy bit a couple of them. We had a drink and a late snack and agreed to go back and kill everything in the dungeon.”
Before Nathanael could ask anything else Dingo Boy opened an eye and, seeing Nathanael, started beating the bed with his tail. He turned over, jumped off the bed, and came over to lick the Virtue’s shin. “I will go. John will need his rest. His day started in his world and ended in this one. Make sure he checks his status screen.
“Yeah. I’ve been telling him to do that but he keeps putting it off. I’ll make sure he does it when he wakes up.”
Nathanael reached down and gave the Heeler a few pets. He waged his tail enthusiastically. The angel pointed at the lit oil lamp on the small table next to the bed and the flame winked out leaving his wings as the sole lightsource in the room. The dog turned and poked his muzzle into one of his pouches. Bright white light began to glow at the top of the angel’s head and the tips of his wings. It spread quickly down over his form like liquid moonlight poured over him. When it had completed its journey and totally coated the Virtue he vanished. Dingo Boy pulled his nose out of his pouch and turned to find the mighty figure gone. The red ball was in the Cattle Dog’s mouth.
“I guess there’s more than one way to skin a dimensional gate,” Nath-esh said to the dog then dematerialized, returning to his anchor.
Dingo Boy jumped back onto the bed, dropped his ball, curled up around it, and sighed a deep sigh.