Editing Journal - Goblins West of Freeport

I am not used to writing things down. It's not something the Elvrahum have ever needed to do much of. But as I may be the last of us, and in fear that my quest to confront and defeat the evil that spreads across Karmana might fail, I need to set down a record that others might follow if needed.

I will not dwell on the terrible events that befell my people, just that the Goblins that attacked us were driven by something worse, something not corporeal, something pure evil. That is what I hunt, and that is what I seek to destroy for the sake of us all.

Now I find myself in the human town of "Freeport" - a realy hive of scum and villainy. The humans are wretched creatures, selfish and bigoted. I take what I need to survive whislt I try to find the trail I need to follow, using my size (often a source of humour for the humans) as a weapon against those that would underestimate me. The last few months have hardened me in ways I would not have imagined, and the barbed jibes I have to put up with mean little to me. I hardly even felt bad about having to kill some of these fools, in self-defence as it was, but at least I acquired a few more tools to help me get around this place.

At last I have a trail to follow, faint though it is. There is talk of goblins on the island just to the west of town, even a small settlement of them, so that is where I must go next. I prepare for a long journey, not knowing if I will be back, and even borrowed a strange potion when nobody was looking - perhaps it will help against the evil I might face. I wait until darkness and take one of the better rowing boats from the harbour, slipping out into the darkness with nobody any the wiser about it. I have arrived and morning is nearly here; the centre of the island is higher than the rest, so I decide to head there to get my bearings.

Well this was an eventful day, with much to record. I came to the centre of the island near to noon, and found the horrific but familiar signs of a goblin raid. The people here were human, but they were treated no differently. The only difference was that they were better able to fight back, with many goblin bodies amongst the others.

There was an obelisk, hexagonal, at the centre with Karmana's marks upon it. I was surprised to find this in a human village, a "bone of Karmana" as they were known, a holy place for the mother of creation, and I took a moment to offer a short prayer before moving on. That is when... well whatever happened, it happened then.

A figure appeared, kneeling in front of me, as I also sensed a prescence behind me. I rolled and backflipped to the side, wary and keeping both figures in front of me, swords drawn and ready. Behind me, now to my right, was an unfamiliar creature, nearly human but lithe and with different ears, a real Elvrabor or "elf" had appeared, seemingly a little confused. In front of me, now to my left, was a giant of a human (they were both male) with his hand on the obelisk. He was well over 6' when he stood, carried a sheathed bastard sword, a long bow with quivers of arrows, and had black well-kept hair, chain armour and boots. A white tabard with red trim to it marked some kind of allegience that meant nothing to me.

The other one was tall and slender, still young, dressed in faded browns and greens, leather and cloth mostly but with bands of metal across the vital parts. He had long blond hair tied in a neat ponytail, and was clean shaven. He also had a longbow on his back, and two quivers, but had long and short swords sheathed on his belt. His right hand hovered over his long sword but he did not draw it, although he took a step back in surprise. He seemed as surprised to be here as I was to see him appear, to be honest.

The large one looked hurt, or at least weak, and pushed himself up gradually until he was standing - fuck me he was huge, even by human standards. He muttered an oath "By Karmana!" under his breath before slowly turning.  He was actually a very young man, he had looked older when stooped, with dark hair and brown eyes, although he kept them downcast - he seemed almost to be in thought, not reacting to us or his surroundings.

The elf said "I mean you no harm." I was more interested in who the fuck they were and how they had appeared there, and said so.

The large one reacted at last. I noticed now that his breastplate had a star (formed from two triangles) emblazoned on it, with a brilliant sapphire set at the top. He wouldn't make it down a single street in Freetown showing that kind of wealth off! In a flash his sword flew into his hand... perhaps he might make it down a couple after all. He also looked utterly shocked. "It's you!" he exclaimed, looking straight at me.

I replied with words to the effect of "I know it's me, who the fuck are you?"

After more of this awkward exchange I eventually established that the large one was Falcor of Maladan, who had been sent by "Mother", by that (he indicated the obelisk) to find me. He claimed that he was sent to avenge my people, having lost his own in an attack that was also accompanied by evil shades.  I was very happy with this of course, and he claimed to be my guardian!

The other was Aradhelon Archarnion (Arad? I can't use that mouthful all the time) - and he had "stepped through a door created by his mentor" from another world. He didn't seem to be intoxicated, so I guess he genuinely believed that.

Neither of them had heard of Freeport or seemed at all familiar with the area, and I was apparently the only one that actually got here in the traditional way - by walking.

We had all had experiences with wraiths or shades or whatever those things of Treddar were, so we at least had a common enemy. Falcor told of how a "First Legion" had arrived at the gates of his castle, known for their black armour with a gold dragon (Elvradrak?) design - these were bodyguards to some emperor "Andivas" and were led by someone thought to be a friend by Falcor, but known as "The Butcher" by Arad, who hated him.

The city Falcor came from was Malladan, which Arad at first misheard as "Milada", the "Hidden One", counterpart to "Talada", the "Lost One" - could he mean Treddar?  We all seemed to have different names for thing that might or might not be the same.

Finally we turned our attention to the present, and both had apparently been sent to aid me in my hunt. I confess I had not expected quite such a direct response to my prayers, even in this holy place, but any assistance was welcome.

The village had only recently been overrun and was still smouldering. We agreed to track the goblins to try and help any villagers that had been taken. There were clear signs to the north that the goblins had approached and left that way. Drag marks and blood marks showed clearly that they had taken bodies with them, although it wasn't clear whether they were alive or dead. The trail was so clear that it would not be difficult to follow.

As we started to follow the tracks the others suddenly became really hungry! They started rummaging through their backpacks as if it was the first time they had seen what was in them! What wasn't in them was anything to eat or drink, so I had to share mine and they ate over a day's worth in one go!

Studying the tracks, it seemed that there were about ten goblins that left, which was about half those that had attacked. They kept heading NNW through the sparse woodland that surrounded the plateau the village had sat on. We followed the tracks for two or three miles, taking about an hour, and they began to veer more northeast. Normally it would have taken me longer, but Falcor had offered to carry me... not something that I particularly liked, but if it meant we could save some poor wretches then I grudingly agreed to it.

We spotted some wisps of smoke ahead to our left. We debated which way to go, but I urged to follow the smoke - arguing that it might be another village that we could still lend our aid to. I didn't want to share my fears of finding another altar surrounded by bodies with their hearts cut out, bloody circles painted on foreheads, too late again to help them...

Regardless, we headed towards the smoke.  We were near the coastline now, and approached the edge of a clearing where the trees had been felled. On the edge of the coast, about two hundred yards from the trees, was a crude fortified stockade, constructed from the logs that had been gathered.  The wall stood about fifteen feet high, with some crude watchtowers on each of the four corners.

There was no visible entrance (perhaps being on the far side), and a little smoke from the centre of compound. What we had seen, though, was a pile of burning bodies about ten yards to the east of the compound, mostly burned out now. There was no obvious movement, but if goblins had set up a camp somewhere on the island then this looked like the most likely place.