A Skull Full of Souls

Big Moe and Julius stand over the slumped and unconscious forms of what remains of the assaulting force. Julius is stopping the more dire cases from dying, but that does little to improve their situation. Krop sits on a rock he’d drug over. His massive axe rests against his disproportionately muscled thigh as he occasionally tosses a travel ration into the air. Each toss is tracked by his head before his tongue lashes out and pulls the food into his wide mouth. He chews thoughtfully and stares at the prisoners wearing the vestments of Salvatore’s Service. His rust-tinged amphibious eyes give nothing away, save that they track every twitch of muscle and flicker of clothes. Candii is carefully tracking all traces of the monsters summoned by the spell. Carrie Ann and Julius’ skull assist her by spotting anything still animated by life force and watching for movement. Julius’ body sits near Krop occasionally yelling about puking and falling over as Carrie does something unexpectedly acrobatic. A dragging noise accompanied by moaning announces the delivery of some new detainees. A small, flying figure about as tall as a larger dagger flies towards them. The dark armored form holds a rope. Attached to the other end of the rope are two figures, the flying man pulls them along and small groans escape their mouths as they bounce and bump against roots and rocks.

Krop marvels, as he always does, at the effortless way an 11-inch tall dark-armored pixie is dragging two humans. You’d think he was pulling a merchant’s cart. No weapons adorned the tiny being. Krop knew from experience that they were there, just waiting for him to call. Stalking behind the dragging prisoners Krop spots a flash of mahogany fur under dusty leathers. Sasha is here too. “Hwwrrk, How many left?” Krop asks.

“I dunno mate, I’m just lettin’ Sasha have her fun before we have to head back. Have you seen her hunting wiggle? It’s adorable I could do this all day, no probbo.” With a casual grunt, Rick tosses his burden into the huddle of prisoners.

Suddenly, there is a flash of movement and a gurgling cry from the huddle. Sasha, a short, mahogany-furred Lutrinean has her daggers pinning the arms of what had been one of the more functional prisoners. Just outside the spasming hand lies another dagger. Sasha’s big expressive brown eyes are currently communicating deep disapproval and perhaps even outrage at the little pixie. “No.” She says before scooping up the fallen dagger and scurrying away and seeming to vanish behind the burnt stubby stump of a large oak.

Rick gestures at the moaning prisoners and back at Krop. Nonverbally confirming that Krop has this under control. Krop nods and Rick flies back toward the stump recoiling his rope. “Come on mate, Sasha! Being adorable is not a weakness, it’s a compliment! Nobody ever sees the cute otter girl as a threat! You can just waddle up with your cuddly widdle face and shank them in the kidneys! Strewth lass, it was a compliment.”

Krop turns to the headless skeleton and rests a webbed palm on its collarbone. “Crrrrnk, come on Julius, Sasha stopped an assassination between prisoners. Let's stabilize, restrain, and separate them. Hwroooak, at least one of them has to be important.”

The skeleton rises, then wobbles “Oh, whoa-girl, urp. The mind wash not made to fly and walk at the shame time. All right! Take my hand and put it on the onesh that need ah, healing.” Krop does so. Grabbing the wrist bones of the skeleton and walking towards the impaled prisoner. Julius stumbles as he fails to anticipate the pull. “Ack.” He manages before tumbling over and sliding the rest of the way. As his palm touches the twitching form Krop drops him and pulls the daggers out. The prisoner, a female elf in the vestments of Salvatore’s Servants, screams and begins bleeding profusely. She releases a whimper and falls unconscious. The new injuries stacking with her previous ones and surpassing her tolerance. Julius tightens his grip and utters a simple phrase. Her wounds stop flowing and her breathing evens out. Scabs form preventing further degradation. The cantrip of Grave’s Reprieve stabilizes the dying without healing. It allows them to survive their injuries but does little to ease suffering or heal the injuries. It just makes them less life-threatening.

Then Krop grabs his wrist, and the arm flashes with translucent blue muscles and tendons before the ethereal form breaks at the arm. Disconnecting the arm at the elbow with a pop and an ‘Ow’ this time. He slaps the hand on the female human the other had tried to stab. But nothing happens. Confused, he looks back at Julius who’s blindly trying to come to him. “Crrrwmk, Julius? Aren’t you going to cast the spell?”

“Yup, jusht ash shoon as I reattach my hand and am touching the pershon.” Krop leans over, grabs Julius by his radius and ulna, and yanks him over to his hand. The translucent shape of blue mana outlines the muscles and other connective tissue of a severed arm at the elbow. He takes the hand and forearm and slips them into the gap in the blue frame. There’s a click, and the magical sleeve of flesh begins expanding. Tendons and muscles reform on the arm and hand over a few seconds until a transparent copy of a skinless arm and hand gleams. Then it fades as Julius casts the spell again. Once again Krop grabs his wrist. Pulling it a few more feet over onto the last slumped figure. “Julius releases another “Ack!” falling forward again. It would have been face first, but his face wasn’t here. One more cast and the three won’t die. Only one wakes. The female human. Her face is scarred and tan. She looks like one of the bandits. Krop binds her first. Tying her hands and feet together like a boar to be slaughtered. Then he ties the assassin and finally, the last human. He’s young, has hair of similar color to the woman and his gear looks relatively new. He drags each of the three away from the group, setting them down 15 feet apart from each other and the others. Julius wags a finger at thin air far to the left of Krop. “Nexsht time pleashe don’t drag me all over the plashe. You could have jusht ash eashily told me where to move and step rather than dragging me all around.”

Krop thought about it. “Hwerrrk, Yeah, that does sound easier. Next time, you should ask me to do that. I’m not sure why you wanted to do it the hard way.” He nods and resumes his post. Patiently waiting for the others to return. Julius stands there, his admonishing finger frozen almost pointing at Krop. He sputters, unable to come up with a proper answer to that statement.

Nearby, coming out of the woods, Candii strode confidently back towards the clearing. Over her shoulder is a satchel that is stuffed with the carcasses of the beasts of the summoned swarm. “These specimens are just so perfect. they’re like, so magical! They are going to save us sooo much money.”

Julius’ skull sailed over her head carried by Carrie Ann. “You aren’t planning to eat them are you?”

She snorts. “No silly, they’re incredibly toxic. Every bit of them is soaked in the magical aspect of hunger. Any bit of them that gets inside you would actually like, drain whatever it touched of nutrients and mana. These things are like, the opposite of healthy.” She tilts her head. “Though I suppose technically someone with a complimentary kind of power might get a boost.” She shudders. “They’d probably be pretty gross themselves though. I totes don’t want to imagine that kinda power—” She frowns for a few seconds then perks up. “Nah, but if I desiccate these little guys and powder them, you can add it to whatever you’re working on to insulate effects and create exclusion zones to effects.” She squints up at him. “Wait, why are you letting me explain this? Your knowledge of enchanting and spellcraft is like, way better than mine.”

The skull is silent for a moment. “I’m trying to make you lessh angry at me for burning your hair. I know how much you like to teach ush about your intereshts and sho I thought I’d let you.” She smiles and starts to thank him for doing something so thoughtful. Then he keeps speaking. “I figured nothing would help you forget about the charred messh on your head like chattering endlesshly about one of your passhionsh. And while you chattered, I could ignore you and try to exshplain to Krop what an idiom wash is and why you don’t take them literally.”

“Oh really? That was almost sweet.” She speaks through her gritted teeth.

He smiles. “Really? I washn’t shure it would work.”

She lets out a strangled noise that might loosely be described as assent. “Yup, I almost started to feel better.” Her voice drops to the point he can’t hear. “Until you opened your stupid mouth. Now that shopping trip just added a deep tissue massage and new shoes.”

From behind them, Rick speaks. “Well, that’s the whole circuit. G’day Candii, we got all but five of them.”

Candii claps her hands. “That’s excellent! Good job Sasha!” From the shadows, a bouncing hopping Sasha bounds over and hugs Candii before waddling back into the shadows and vanishing.

“Hey, what about me? I’ve been helping the little lass all night! Where’s my hug?”

Candii snorts. “No.” She raises her hand and starts ticking off reasons. “First, we both know that if you’d like, actually taken hunting them seriously we’d have gotten them all in half the time. Second, I absolutely know you just want an excuse to dive in and nuzzle my cleavage. So, eww for one, and also, that armor is both pointy and cold,” She eyes it a little more. “and probably gorey.”

Rick’s voice smoothly cuts in. “I could be persuaded to remove the armor first! How about it?”

“Oh absolutely…Not! No seriously, you’re not getting any of this—“ she gestures to herself. “—Like ever. So don’t ask. Oh, and thirdly, how the hell did you lose five people? You, Rick? Come on.” She stares at him, her hands on her hips.

Rick rolls his eyes and sighs. “That’s harsh lady.” He sighs again. “I’ve told you before, I’m not here to solve your problems. If I go around coddling you all you’ll never grow. You’ll rely on me more and more, and one day I won’t be able to save you all and you will die.” He lands on her shoulder and sits. “I’m old and powerful mate. I’ve watched generations grow and fall alongside me. The only thing that brings joy anymore is watching youths like you and Sasha grow. I’ll keep you alive, I won’t solve your problems.”

Candii snorts. “If you think of me as a little kid then it’s like, doubly gross that you want to fondle my breasts.”

Rick chuckles. “I said I’m old, not elderly mate. I’m still full of virile verve, and you are a blooming flower in her prime. I’m definitely not averse to a little pollination if you know what I mean. Heh, I’m pretty sure I even caught Julius drooling at that ass once.”

Julius has been quietly muttering about what sounds a lot like mathematics but stops when he hears his name. “Eh, what?” He mentally replays his memories and focuses on their conversation. “Hey! I’m a skull! I can’t drool!”

Rick laughs. “And that moment three moons ago when Candii decided to get cleaned up at the lake while you were ‘meditating?’ I saw blue drips fall from your jaw. The only reason I didn’t call you out was I didn’t feel like taking a lightning bolt myself.”

Julius opens his jaw, preparing a retort. Then he reconsiders and his teeth clack together as he shuts his mouth. A few awkward seconds pass as Julius’ eldritch eyes switch from a poker-faced Candii, to the leering grin of Rick, then up to the right, and finally down to the left. Rick inhales to claim victory and Julius opens his mouth. “Oh no you don’t! I’ve sheen thish done before! Every anshwer ish a trap. Thish whole inshinuashion ish to avoid anshwering a very shimple question.” Krop watches as Julius raises an accusing bony finger at nothing and demands “Sho, how did five people give you the shlip Rick?”

“Eh—erm, ahem. Slip? Uh, oh right, the survivors. They uh.” He coughs and shakes his head. Finally looking away from the skull and raising five fingers. “Two escaped on a cart. We think the horse slept through the swarm as they hid inside the back of the wagon. When the fireball went off the cart was outside the radius and the horse panicked and ran off.” He pauses for a moment then bringing his fingers down to three. “The other three took shelter in a cave. You can tell it’s connected to a larger complex by the smell. Warm air wafts from deeper in and it smells like a goblin city down there. Not just the stench of a tribe, but oil and smoke and molten metal. That is not a place I’d go without being paid to do so.” Everyone but Julius winces. Goblin tribes were not that bad. Even if they took over a cave they still seldom posed significant dangers. But if a warren got left unattended long enough for several generations to pass strange things happen.

Goblins have three different types of society. The first one is a feral tribal society. This is them in tribal camps and caves. Then comes the middle stage. Whatever chieftain (almost exclusively a male) gains control of the warren and turns all able-bodied goblins into warriors. Any of the infirm or weak are enslaved and set to growing food, clearing waste, and the building of the city. The weak and intelligent are set to designing new weapons, and managing the other slaves. The warriors begin systematically conquering all nearby life. Designating all others as food, slaves, or vermin, they spread outward. The third and most interesting phase of a goblin civilization is that inevitably, the warlord's ambitions are too great and they expend the strong in failed wars. This sudden lack of inflowing resources is quickly felt by the non-combatants in the camp. Soon the now-skilled labor and administration forces arm themselves and revolt. Often these revolts are aided by the slaves, who are offered equal standing in the resulting society. Suddenly purged of the aggression so plain in the monstrous societies, any goblin settlement that survives the coup and retribution from surviving neighbors experiences a renaissance. Near 200 years from the settling of the original tribe, you gain a bustling metropolis full of different races and ideals schools and academies rise. Even the laborers who were forced to build weapons and war machines now have the skills to raise architectural and engineered wonders. The race seems transformed, going from a society of barbarians to a City of engineers, artificers, magicians, and researchers.

Many interested scholars have studied the chaotic shifts of the goblin race. The current theory is that the intrinsic primal magic in their species is primarily chaos-aligned and is detrimental to higher thought. The theory states that without other species and their magical influence on young goblins during the formative years. The mental degradation begins to reassert itself within just a single generation.

In this particular situation, the stench of an early goblin society in combination with the smell of forges and industry indicates that there is likely a type-two goblin society below. Currently bent on conquest and slavery. Such places are very, very dangerous.

The silence stretches for a bit. Everyone is discomforted by the situation. Candii feels a tugging at her cloak and looks down into Sasha’s expressive brown eyes. “I don’t care if you’re naked. Next time, bathe with me and I’ll stab anyone who tries to peek. We can hunt for snails! I’ll make soup!”

Rick sighs in happy remembrance. “That’s not an offer to refuse lightly mate. Her smoky snail soup is super delicious, especially when she finds wild onions and garlic.”

Everyone regroups near the prisoners. Carrie Anne and Sasha watch the prisoners, now under the spell effect of silence. The spell prevents them from hearing or interrupting as the party plans their next move. Krop is the first to speak. “Hwrk, the ones who fled to the goblin warren probably aren’t a direct threat. Krwwwk, that being said, it’s likely that they will trigger a horde to sweep this valley. We’re short on time. I think we should pack up our prisoners and send our best scouts to track the riders. Krrrrmmmk, maybe we can catch them.”

“Oh totes, we should break camp. I once saw a Gobbo war party. It was like, the most disgusting brutal thing ever. The things they did to the prisoners…” Candii falls silent. Her eyes unfocus, becoming both haunted and hard. “It’s a pity though. I was hoping to like interview a few before giving them time to settle. What do you think Jules?”

“Ah-hmm, what?”

Candii rolls her eyes. “About what we were talking about?”

Julius stares for a moment, then responds. “What were you talking about? I washn’t lishtening.” Rick winces.

Candii’s eyes narrow. “Really?”

“Yep. I wash just thinking about why that shquirrel would be lishtening to ush like that.”

Candii’s nostrils flared as she inhaled. “A squirrel.”

“Yesh.”

Candii erupts. “YOU ASSANINE AMALGAMATION OF BULL FECES AND VOMIT!”

Julius blinks, looking down at her in startlement. “What?”

“You can be such an asshole Julius.” She gestures at Carrie Ann. Green magic crackling along her fingers. “Carrie sweetie, if you could like, fly Julius away and maybe like, accidentally drop him in a sack, I’ll give you a whole handful of those aquarius grapes you loved so much.

Carrie Ann blinks her sulfurous eyes in surprise that she could so clearly understand Candii. Then, the words hit her and she squalls out an eager cry that sounds something between a snake's hiss and a saw scraping a chalkboard. She quickly wings away heading for the camp. “AHHG! Wait! I wash only wondering becaushe it washn’t a shquirrel! Come on Carrie! You’re my familiar! You should be lishening to me! Wha—No, I don’t have any grapesh! NOOOOOO”

Rick nods at her. “That seemed rather gentle of you mate. Are you ok?”

Candii looks suspiciously at him. Expecting more sass from the ancient fey. “I’m…not ok. But I think I will be so long as we get some answers.” She shoots a baleful glance toward’s Julius. “And a very large shopping spree.”

Up in the trees above them, a fat squirrel sits watching them with rapt attention. As they begin to break down and pack up it sneaks up into a bag. It digs out a pouch of jerky and a block of hard cheese and slips away into the underside of a wagon being loaded. It finds a particularly comfy nook to lounge in and begins happily gnawing on the dried meat.