Edge of the Abyss

Grogger Split-tooth looked at the Wiz and shook his head in disgust and annoyance. The magic-user seemed to be conversing with the skull-faced puppet on the end of his staff. The chieftain sighed and moved forward as the "conversation" trailed off. "What does Dolly say?" he asked, failing to hide the contempt in his tone.

"A barrow ahead," the Wiz said, voice distant. "A great hill. Stuffed with old bodies and old treasures." A greedy smile spread beneath his pointed nose. "Weapons. Armor. Magic!" He cackled, waving the marionette toward Grogger such that the tiny figure seemed to nod in agreement.

"The dead are dead though, right?"

"Oh yes. The Green Lady has seen to it. These are her heroes, druids of days long gone."

Grogger strode over to the captain of his mawpack, Rutler, who sat nearby astride a mighty, black-furred wolf. A line of fleabags consisting mostly of other wolves stretched from just before the warlord back into the forest as far as he could see. Even beyond this, he could hear the panting, growls, and yips of even more of the goblin cavalry.

"We're taking a barrow hill," stated Grogger. "Your boys will surround it first, fast. See off anybody in our way. My boys, the Bouncer Brothers, and Slarm's spears will come up behind."

"Raidin' or burnin', boss?" Rutler asked.

A grin cracked the warlord's face. "Both. We'll get what's in that hill, stuff it full of kindling, then light it up. That'll stick in the old Green Witch's craw."

"I love the smell o' burnin' bodies in the morning, even if they've been dead awhile." His hearty laugh was soon echoed by Grogger then, in its own lupine way, the wolf beneath him.

***

"There is something here." Sister Morgan looked back to Sir Willum from the edge of the clearing. Ahead of them, the trees encircled a small hill bearing stonework at its crest.

"Something dangerous?" the burly knight asked from beneath his thick beard.

The Devoted shrugged her slim shoulders. "Something magical, not inherently evil, but it's presence is strong. Even the most dull-witted spellcaster could sense it."

"Like those goblins we've been seeing?" he asked. Morgan nodded. "Alright. We'll investigate and secure it if we can. Perhaps it's something we can use to defend this forest, if the dead no longer need it."

He turned and barked an order to his squire who turned and ran back toward the Brotherhood encampment. A moment later, the cloaked form of one of Swain's rangers appeared, following the boy back.

"I'd like the rangers to inspect that hill and the entrance at the top," Willum stated. "Take Sir Damien with you. He has a history of questing that might be useful if you can find a way in."

The ranger was mid-nod when his eyes widened and he looked past Willum. The knight heard Morgan gasp as he turned to follow the archer's gaze.

Swain burst from the treeline across the clearing, his thick green cloak fluttering and snapping behind him. As he neared the hill, he turned round, pulled his bow up and fired back the way he'd come. The arrow lodged in the skull of a huge wolf that leapt from the underbrush as if to meet it. The beast fell with a yip, rolling onto the goblin riding it. The green-skin cried out but was quickly silenced as the ranger next to Willum and Swain put three more arrows into its body.

Swain continued his sprint toward Willum and Morgan but the nature of his urgency was already apparent. The knight began shouting orders back toward the camp as the warriors of the Brotherhood took up arms.