Hearth Fire

Stronric sat on the pile of corpses, huffing. His axe leaned against his thigh. A warm and empowering feeling welled up inside his chest. It felt like the blessing he received daily. He brought up the blessing screen but it showed him nothing new.

This feeling, I keep feeling it after battles and when I discover new things. It wells up inside of me, like a stream filling up a pool, and when it overflows I feel stronger and then it begins again. What is it? When a hard victory was won in the old world, it never felt like this. More importantly, that was a lot of gobi. That had to be an entire war party. I only killed about twenty five and more fled. How many gobi tribes are down here? Why were they so weak as well? If it wasn’t for that armor, the chieftain would have been dead in seconds. So far, everything I have fought has been rather weak. The troll was the hardest fight, and that was because of its supernatural healing.

Stronric stretched as he stood. The smithy was in disarray. His grinding wheel was cracked in half, his tools had been thrown about the room or simply smashed. He sighed as he walked around, seeing his work bench broken. The forge and bellows seemed to be the only areas left unscathed.

Well, I got a ton of work to do and it’s not gonna get done looking at it.

The sound of hooves stopped him as he stripped weapons and armor and sorted them into pile. Looking up, he saw the nanny goat and the three kids walk into the smithy. He smiled as they walked in, patting the old nanny as she nuzzled his side.

“Thanks ol lassie, ye saved me beard there.” He said to her.

She bleated as a response and looked around.

Stronric squatted in front of her, looking her in the eyes.

“Can you understand me? Ye seem way too smart for just an old goat.” He asked her.

She looked at him and bleated again.

“Fine, keep yer secrets.” He said. “I need help carrying these bodies up to the fields, or outside, they can’t sit here and rot. Can you give me a hand, lassie?”

She bleated and left.

“Guess not.” He said to her backside.

Getting back to work, he piled the dead by the door. Hearing the “clunk clunk” of hooves. He looked up and saw the old nanny carrying the leather straps in her mouth. Stronric cracked a smile.

“You can understand me!” he shouted in excitement. “But how?”

She looked at him blankly and bleated again.

“Ye know, I used to know an old hag who lived in a small hut on the outskirts of the hold. When I was young, before I left for the deep watch, I was climbing the hills tryin to get some colder berries. Well I lost me grip and tumbled down the side of a mountain and landed on the ledge.” Stronric said as he strapped the old nanny into her carrying harness. “Well I was hanging on for dear life, when look who came over the hill side, Old Beatrice, she pulled me off that cliff side. Whipped me with her forked tongue, but she never did tell my mother. Crazy old goat, you remind me a lot of her. Beatrice, the name fits you eh?”

Beatrice looked at Stronric rolled her eyes, but leaned in and nuzzled him.

He got to work strapping a large orc to her, then he piled up the smaller dead on top of it. Stronric carried two dead over his shoulder and followed Beatrice up the stairs. It worked, not well, but it was better than nothing. After a few trips, Stronrics’ belly rumbled.

“That’s enough for now. Let’s eat.” He said as he unloaded the nanny.

Stronric brought a bucket with him to the pond. After bathing and cleaning his armor, he made the frigid run back to the hearth. Stronric sat down next to the fire in the hearth with a brew and a hardtack.

“Clunk, Clunk,”

Stronric bolted to his feet with his axe in hand. He looked at the four goats.

“You invite any friends over?” he said as he looked at them.

She dipped her head in a bow.

Stronric lifted his gaze from her as four more goats entered through the main entryway. These four were all brown. They looked at him, bleated a greeting then made their way to Beatrice and the kids to lay down. Stronric stared, puzzled.

Did this goat really invite guest over?

“Anything to tell me, lassie?” he asked.

She Looked at him bleated and began to groom one of the young that had arrived. Stronric settled back down into his spot and finished his meal. Beatrice came and laid beside him. Stronric lowered down, laying his head on her and fell asleep. He dreamed of goats, an endless flood them. Pouring in through every entry into the main hall. He drowned in a sea of goats. He gasped awake.

BING.

You have received the temporary buff of Hearth and Home.

Your health regeneration has slightly improved.

Your stamina regeneration has slightly improved.

Your experience gained has slightly improved.

He looked around the hearth room to see two more goats had appeared. He blinked, rubbed his eyes and counted again. He wasn’t dreaming, there really was two more goats. The newcomers were nannies but they didn’t have any young and they also looked a little worse for wear. Wet with sweat, and breathing heavily, they seemed as if they traveled from afar and in a hurry. Beatrice approached them and nuzzled them, bleating softly as if to comfort them. Stronric eyed the scene, What are you Beatrice?

Stronric shrugged his shoulders and started his morning routine. He was halfway through when he got an idea. He took the water bucket and went behind the bar and emptied the water in the sink. With the empty bucket in hand he made his way back to the nannies. They bleated at him and stood still.

“Since your nannies and all and have no young…” he said as he reached a hand for a teat. They didn’t move and allowed him to milk them. After milking the nannies, Stronric sat down and dipped his hardtack into the milk.

“Hmmm, now that hits the spot.” He said, smacking his lips.

Stronric finished his breakfast and called out to the goats. They formed a half circle around him, waiting. “We’ve got more work to be done down in the smithy. Thanks to Beatrice we have more helping hoofs!”

About midday they had finished dumping the bodies down the side of the mountain that they didn’t use for fertilizer. Stronric now had a new stack of scrap weapons and armor to melt down. He got an idea. He sharpened his hand axe, called to the goats, and ran up and out of the mountain with the goats in tow. Finding a large oak, he cut it down. Again he sectioned the tree into logs and strapped them to the goats before grabbing his own log and heading back to the smithy. Back in his smithy, he loaded the smelting urn with scrap metal and worked on the wood as the metal heated. He cut the logs into planks. “Not my best work, but aye it’ll do.” Stronric said as he took a step back and admitted the start of a new large door.

Stronric continued making trips back and forth until he had finished the door, hinges and fastened the latch. He sat to rest for a moment exhausted. He carried the supplies to the Hearth. He set to work removing the remnants of the old door that went to the main entry Here it would block the way back out to the mountain side he originally came through on his first day. After an hour, he laughed as his door swung closed. Opening and closing it to make sure it worked, he laughed again.

“Nothing is beyond a dwarf with nothing else to do.” He said to the nanny as he pet her. That night the hearth room was warm. For the first time the room effectively trapped the heat inside instead of leaving with the draft that blew through the tunnels. Everyone inside spread out, no more cuddling to keep the cold away. Beatrice walked next to Stronric and completed her circles before laying down next to him, putting her head on his lap. Once again, Stronric dreamt of goats. A knocking sound woke Stronric. He got up with his axe in hand. The old nanny let out an annoyed bleat as he went to the door. He quickly pulled the door open brandishing his axe. He saw nothing.

“Bahhh!”.

A goat, leading the charge of four gently rammed his leg and he stood open mouthed. Stronric took a step back allowing the goats to enter and turned to Beatrice.

“Is this your doing?” he asked.

She joined him at the door and bleated loudly looking down the tunnel.

Where were all these damn goats coming from? Was this a curse Thorthana set upon me? Was I to die by drowning in goats?

Stronric went to close the door, “come on ol lassie, lets go back to bed.”

Beatrice refused to move, letting out a more panicked “Bahh”, Stronric looked down at Beatrice and saw she was intently looking at something. Stronric noticed an outline at the end of the tunnel. What is that? He thought as he stepped out, trying to close the door behind him. Beatrice jumped through the door way before the door closed on her. Stronric looked down at her and shook his head at her, but her stare never broke with what she as looking at. As they went down the short tunnel, the creature moved back. Stronric entered the courtyard to see a large beast back lit from the full moon’s light, but he still couldn’t make it out. He slowly closed with the beast as it turned to face them.

“By my beard, it’s a ram.” He said, lowering his axe. The Ram was the size of a pony, with two large helix horns, threaded like a bolt. They curved up and back, creating a thick bone plate to smash predators with. The points of horn faced forward to gore those unlucky enough to not be knocked down. The ram spooked when he approached it, throwing its head and stomping his front hoofs in warning. Stronric set down his axe and reached for its head. He moved slowly, shushing at the ram as he closed. The animal limped and then fell. Slowly he reached the animal, cooing and whispering loving words. Then he saw it. An arrow was stuck out of the ram’s hind quarters. Beatrice ran forward bleating at Stronric, she nuzzled the ram’s nose. The ram’s crazed and bloodshot eyes calmed as Beatrice nuzzled him. Stronric rubbed the ram’s neck and lifted the beast, supporting its weight, so the wounded leg bore no weight. He lead the ram inside of hearth to the light. As he lowered the ram he noticed its head, neck and body were a brownish red color, and white cropped the top of its hoofs like snow. It was the largest ram he’s ever seen. We’ve bread goats all my life in my world and no one compares to the size and mass of this.

He calmed the ram before running to retrieve his dagger, some old clothes and water. When he returned, Beatrice was standing leaning down to rest her forehead against the ram’s forehead. A pair? He rubbed the ram’s back as he lowered himself down.

“Now this is going to hurt, but I need to remove the arrow.” He said as he cut the clothes into strips. Laying them over the edge of the bucket. He grabbed the arrow by the shaft and the ram sent a leg kicking. Stronric relaxed it with sweet words and snapped the arrow’s shaft. He tossed the arrow over to his sleeping spot. He would inspect the arrow after he was done.

He set one of his knees on the ram’s back and reached for the bucket. Bringing it closer to him as to be ready. He grasped the broken shaft and wiggled the arrow. The flesh bulged in small points around the wound. The arrow was barbed. He would have to cut the arrow out. With his dagger, he made small cuts around the arrow.. The ram kicked and bucked but Stronric kept his weight down on the animal preventing it from moving and hurting itself. Once the incisions were made to allow the barbs to slide free, he slowly pulled the shaft. He worked quickly, cutting any flesh that was snared by the arrow head. Finally the arrow slipped free, he tossed it to the ground and reached for the cloth. I need to stop the bleeding, he thought as the ram lashed out another kick while he placed pressure on the wound. Beatrice bleated and returned her head to the rams. The ram settled and the blood flow slowed. Stronric was able to wipe the wound clean and bandage the leg. The ram settled as Beatrice came and laid next to him, the ram still watched Stronric wearily. Throughout the night, Stronric tended to the ram, giving it water and watching the bandage for excess bleeding, changing it when needed. When the animal fell asleep, Stronric inspected the arrow fletching and head.

“This is Elven.” He said as he raised the arrow for nanny to see.

Nanny let out an annoyed bleated and laid her head down on the ram.

So they are nearby, well if I ever caught that elf…

Stronric fell asleep, and for the first time in days, he didn’t dream of goats, but of elves.