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Journal of the Souls of Legend (completed)
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<blockquote data-quote="Nthal" data-source="post: 7887814" data-attributes="member: 6971069"><p style="text-align: center"><strong>The Brothers in Arms…but not <em>those</em> Brothers - January 8th, 2020</strong></p> <p style="text-align: center"></p> <p style="text-align: center"><em>I pride myself in my independence, but I don’t turn away help when I can find it. Usually trust, or the lack of it is the barrier.</em></p> <p style="text-align: center"><em></em></p> <p style="text-align: center"><em>But sometimes, the help you find really does come from strange places.</em></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>Iesa led us overland through elven paths hidden in the forest. But it was becoming easier for him to follow a path once he knew what to look for. It didn’t hurt that following a Firbolg was easier than following elves.</p><p></p><p>“Are you sure that’s Ravalan’s?” Daneath asked as he squinted at the dirt. I stood next to Daneath, also looking where our Knight was pointing, and was trying to understand how a divot indicated it was a Firbolg. It wasn’t working.</p><p></p><p>“I don’t understand the problem; the width is almost twice as wide as the toes of an elven boot—” Iesa was trying to explain.</p><p></p><p>“—The ball of the foot?” I said, still staring at the dirt.</p><p></p><p>“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Iesa waved dismissively at me. “But in the soft dirt—”</p><p></p><p>“—How do you know a foot even made that?” Daneath asked still not convinced.</p><p></p><p>“Because the way it’s turned up, with the heel mark a hand and half behind it,” Iesa said, pointing at another area of disturbed earth. “And again, its larger than an elven foot.”</p><p></p><p>“And what are you using for comparison?” Beepu asked, while chewing on some dried fruit.</p><p></p><p>“I’m using Myrai’s feet for comparison, so as I—”</p><p></p><p>“—What?” I said, my head snapping up to look at Iesa, “What about my feet? Have you been following me or something?”</p><p></p><p>“Yes…when we take breaks and stops, I try to find your prints, because they’re harder to find than Daneath’s with the sabatons he wears.” Iesa spread his hands wide in an apologetic gesture.</p><p></p><p>“At least that makes some sense,” Daneath said quietly, looking down at the mail plates covering his boots.</p><p></p><p>“True,” Beepu started smugly. “And I am sure it will take a lot more effort to find my tracks as I am far lighter afoot, and my feet are much smaller.”</p><p></p><p>“Actually, you’re as easy as Daneath.” Iesa said smiling. “Your boot marks have a distinctive heel and for some reason you stomp and sink deeply in the ground as you walk. But it’s easier to follow the crumbs you drop.”</p><p></p><p>“Crumbs? I do not drop crumbs!” Beepu said confused.</p><p></p><p>“Of course not,” I said as I pulled out a kerchief and wipe Beepu’s shocked face of the remains of his snack. Then I promptly flicked a strand at it, instantly cleaning it.</p><p></p><p>Beepu’s face turned red. “I am not that easy to track!”</p><p></p><p>“Oh…no, you aren’t,” Iesa said trying to mollify the gnome. “Myrai is just the hardest is all. She tends to step very lightly, similar to the elves, but her foot is just tad narrower than the males’ boots.”</p><p></p><p>“So, you use my feet to compare everything else to? Not…your feet?” I said a little perturbed at the idea that Iesa has been using my feet as his basis of comparison.</p><p></p><p>“Well I can’t follow myself,” He explained brushing off the observation. “Anyway, Ravalan has been here, and we seem to be catching up. If we push, we can probably catch him, maybe tonight.”</p><p></p><p>“We’ll let’s get going,”: Daneath said, and with a flourish, gestured to Iesa to lead the way. Iesa gave a mocking bow, and then moved ahead down the path we all hoped he could see, with Daneath trailing shaking his head.</p><p></p><p>“I am not easy to track, and I do not eat that much,” Beepu muttered defensively.</p><p></p><p>“No, it’s just a little bit very frequently, and you like those sweet crackers.” I said.</p><p></p><p>“Well…the elves do make great crackers,” Beepu acknowledged.</p><p></p><p>“Trust me, I’d rather that, than the idea that Iesa has been following me around everywhere,” I said wondering where Iesa’s boundaries truly lay.</p><p>[HR]</p><p>------[/HR]</p><p></p><p>We had left the forest itself now and were descending into the scrub in the hills. Here there were thorny shrubs, waist height scattered around, and very few trees. The path we were following appeared to enter into a system of gullies. The sun was nearing the horizon and the air beginning to cool. As we started to enter the gully, Iesa stopped, raising his hand up and turning with his finger across his lips.</p><p></p><p>I stood there and listened. It wasn’t hard, but I could hear a pair of voices. Both were high pitched, nasal and very scratchy. As I listened, I could barely make out the words; it took a moment until I heard one that I knew: <em>Booyagh.</em></p><p></p><p>Goblins.</p><p></p><p>Iesa held out a hand upwards, holding us back. Then he moved forward to investigate, while we waited. After a moment, I pull on the strands and send a message to him.</p><p></p><p><em>Iesa, goblins?</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>--Yeah, good ear. I see a pair of them just…sitting. But no weapons or anything.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>Sitting? Like ready to ambush?</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>--No, that’s just it. They are in the middle of the trail. Not hiding at all.</em></p><p></p><p>“A pair of goblins, sitting in the open, without weapons?” I whispered aloud to Daneath and Beepu.</p><p></p><p>“Bait I bet.” Beepu said with a frown.</p><p></p><p>“We’re a bad catch then,” Daneath replied his brow knitted as he thought.</p><p></p><p>I frowned and cast my thoughts back to Iesa:</p><p></p><p><em>The others think its bait.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>--I would too. But I don’t see anyone else in the rocks or brush. I think we can question them and learn more.”</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>From a goblin? Well I suppose. Let me prep something but take a good look around. I’ll contact you soon.</em></p><p></p><p>I reach into my pouch and finger some soot and salt I had stored there, closed my eyes and started to focus on the strands again. I started whispering the ritual so I could understand their speech. Beepu caught sight of my efforts and I heard him talk to Daneath.</p><p></p><p>“I think we are going to have a meeting,” Beepu started.</p><p></p><p>“What? We are going to what…parley with goblins.” Daneath said surprised.</p><p></p><p>“Appears so. And who taught you that word?”</p><p></p><p>“What, ‘Parley?’ Probably you.”</p><p></p><p>“Well alright then…but why are you surprised?”</p><p></p><p>Daneath shrugged. “I’m not sure there is a point. But I suppose I look imposing enough,” he said pointing out the armor he now wore. Basically, it was a compromise between the hobgoblin mail and his regular set, taking the parts that worked best for him. The net effect was better overall protection at the cost of aesthetics. And Daneath’s motivation were simply that; protection.</p><p></p><p>I opened my eyes, and cast my thoughts back at Iesa;</p><p></p><p><em>Ready, find anything?</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>--No…they are alone. I’m going a little ahead to block them. But I don’t think they are going to run.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>Oh?</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>--I don’t think they are from around here. Sneak on up.</em></p><p></p><p>“Follow me, we are going to catch them on the trail,” I said, moving towards the direction Iesa went.</p><p></p><p>“You really <strong>want </strong>to talk to them?” Beepu said looking at me carefully. “I thought you would have wanted to nail their heads to the wall Myr.”</p><p></p><p>It was true. A day or two ago…or ten or twelve as it turned out, I would have done exactly that. But Iesa’s curiosity had raised my own. “I’ll settle for the Prophesied One’s for now.”</p><p></p><p>“Let’s make them squeak,” Daneath said, and we headed to the voices.</p><p></p><p>We made our way cautiously, in case Iesa had erred on the pair being bait. Somehow, we made little noise and we made our way down. Then the path turned, and we finally saw the goblins.</p><p></p><p>When I saw them, I could see exactly what Iesa meant. The pair were seated on rocks, arguing with each other. Glancing over them, they were typical goblins, yellow skinned, with dark eyes and greasy black shoulder length hair, faces smeared with dirt, their hands ending in thick, rough and cracked pointed nails. But they weren’t dressed like the other goblins that we had seen. First, they were dressed in cloth and linens, and not rough boiled leather. Both of their clothes were streaked in dirt and sweat and had not been cleaned in some time. The second both wore shoes, with the toe section was cut out so their long toenails could extend over the soles. The worg riders and other goblins, barely had leather wrappings by comparison. Finally, in their hands, they each held a brimless hat, either of which would have given themselves an extra head in height, if they were wearing them. As I looked at them and the way they dressed, and thought how it made them look like dirty, ugly, wayward twin children.</p><p></p><p>But they sat there, angrily arguing with each other, oblivious to our approach. We didn’t even have to sneak, they were so absorbed that I was within a sword’s length of them, when Iesa emerged from the brush.</p><p></p><p>Neither turned their heads at Iesa’s grand reveal, which took him aback. Frowning a moment, he waited and then looked at me, to which the only thing I did in response was shrug. Finally, Iesa cleared his throat to get their attention.</p><p></p><p>The goblin on my left turned his head to look at him and I could tell by his frantic head turning between his friend and Iesa, that we weren’t expected. His partner did the complete reverse, looking up at me and then looking at <em>his</em> partner. Both then tried to shake his partner and pointed in to each other’s visible concern, while continue to stare. Finally, each turned their head, to look at either Iesa or I and realized that we blocked their way. Then sighing, both just stood up and raised their hands.</p><p></p><p>This was certainly was not what I expected, and I found it a little challenging to maintain the façade of a dangerous adventurer. They weren’t exactly the bloody screaming threat of the goblins that had attacked us before. But that then begged the questions that Iesa asked next:</p><p></p><p>“Who are you and what are you doing here?”</p><p></p><p>The one on the left straightened up and said “Drik” and pointed to his partner and said “Drok.” The one on the right, did the exact thing at the same time, in reverse, pointing to himself as “Drok” and his partner “Drik.” Then the one named Drik continued. “Told to go to cave and find stuff to dig up, but—”</p><p></p><p>“—Attacked by big one! Very mean—” Interrupted Drok.</p><p></p><p>“—I talking here! Dropped tools n things and ran—” Drik continued.</p><p></p><p>“—Here. Now wait for lashing.” Drok lamented.</p><p></p><p>As I listened, I knew something was familiar in how they spoke. But Iesa continued.</p><p></p><p>“Lashing? Who is going to give you a lashing?”</p><p></p><p>Drok rolled his eyes, “Lasher Reetog. He lash—”</p><p></p><p>“—Ruin shirts.” Drik said unhappily.</p><p></p><p>“Might ruin hat!” Drok nodded in agreement. “But better than lose head.”</p><p></p><p>“Would rather go home.” Drik said sadly and Drok continued to nod.</p><p></p><p>“Home?” Daneath now addressed the pair, “In the High Moor?”</p><p></p><p>“That new home, since Lasher found us,” Drok said looking at the warrior. “We from Skullport. Hired to deliver message to Secomber bar—”</p><p></p><p>“—Lasher found us. We became part of host,” finished Drik.</p><p></p><p>“Skullport? <em>The </em>Skullport under Waterdeep?” Iesa asked excitedly.</p><p></p><p>“That’s it;” I said as I realized what I had been missing. “The accent is from Waterdeep. All the others sounded different.”</p><p></p><p>Daneath looked at the pair a moment and then asked his own question. “Do you know where the Prophesied One is?”</p><p></p><p>The two goblins looked at each other their eyes widening. They then started to look around them, as if looking for a way to escape before responding.</p><p></p><p>“We…know…how to find camp—” started Drok;</p><p></p><p>“—Rather go home.” Drik finished.</p><p></p><p>“Well, if the lasher, or any lasher found you, you wouldn’t be able to go home right?” Iesa asked, I could see ideas running through his head.</p><p></p><p>“Yes,” both goblins answered warily.</p><p></p><p>“Then, we help you, you help us!” Iesa exclaimed smiling. “We get your tools back, and you help us find the Prophesied One. Once we find them, you will be able to return to Skullport easily, and no ‘lasher’ will bother you.”</p><p></p><p>The goblins looked at Iesa with squinted eyes, as their small minds thought about the deal.</p><p></p><p>“What?” Beepu exclaimed, his eyes open in shock. “We aren’t seriously going to make them guides?”</p><p></p><p>“Why not?” Daneath asked. “If they know the way, that will save you time.”</p><p></p><p>Beepu’s face contorted as he faced that logic head on, clearly having misgivings at the idea. “Ah…well…speed isn’t everything—”</p><p></p><p>“—Not the way you have gone on about it,” Iesa pointed out.</p><p></p><p>“Not sure you want—” Drik started.</p><p></p><p>“—To meet the one. Not sure you—” Drok continued.</p><p></p><p>“—Strong enough,” Drik completed.</p><p></p><p>I came over and knelt by the pair. The looked at me in both doubt and fear. “See, we do have some experience in these matters. Look at his armor.” I said, and I pointed to Daneath’s pauldrons.</p><p></p><p>The goblins both cocked their heads and looked. Then the both looked at each other and spoke excitedly. “These ones lasher look for—" Drok started.</p><p></p><p>“-- Ones the lasher told all to kill.”</p><p></p><p>I turned to Daneath with a smile and wink, “I don’t think you can kill Big D that easily.”</p><p></p><p>“Myr, don’t start---”</p><p></p><p>The goblins eyes lit up with excitement then. “Big D? We know of D. Deal deal deal!” They both said and without pausing.</p><p></p><p>“This is not a good idea,” Beepu his arms crossed in front of him. I noticed that he was standing on his toes to make sure he had a little more height than the pair. If they noticed, they didn’t make a sign as they excitedly look at each of us expectedly.</p><p></p><p>“It’ll work out Beepu,” I said reassuringly. “Besides they can help the brothers on second watch and help them see in the dark.”</p><p></p><p>[HR][/HR]</p><p></p><p>“Another dark cave,” Iesa said glumly. “I knew there was a downside to this.”</p><p></p><p>“Drik and Drok will be a help,” I said patting the man on the shoulder.</p><p></p><p>“Well…sure, but that doesn’t help <em>me</em> see in the dark,” he said as he looked at the wide cave mouth. It was wedged at the end of the gully and seemed to be completely natural. The peak day sun did nothing to light up the entrance or mollify Iesa. Having played a ‘Game of You’ with other Sesates while blinded, I understood the trepidation.</p><p></p><p>“Well, you aren’t going to be blind after all,” and once again I placed a warm glow of light from the strand on Daneath’s shield. I then heard whispers in goblin behind me;</p><p></p><p><em>“Magic?”</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>“Magic/sorcerer. Wings strange.”</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>“Strange. Not human?</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>“Not human. Other?</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>“Other.”</em></p><p></p><p>The prior magic I had used to understand other languages I kept the strands coiling over and over. It was odd to hear the words, and then their meaning. Booyahg meant magic, but Booyahg three times meant sorcerer. But I decided not to engage them in conversation about this; I wanted this ability to be a secret until we knew if we could really trust them.</p><p></p><p>I know I <em>wanted</em> to. I knew the stories of goblin hosts, all under the banner of Maglubiyet. The power had subjugated many others before him, and supposedly rule the rest with an iron fist. That legions roamed many of the worlds, and after the soldiers died…they became petitioners to fight on forever in the plane of Acheron; warring forever. But I didn’t realize that it might not be voluntary. Was their fate tied so much to a power’s whim? Could their belief in another break the chains that held them? I really wanted to help them out if possible; to have the choice. I just didn’t want to die in the process.</p><p></p><p>We enter the cave. The passages twisted to our right, separated by stalagmites and stalactites long since merged into curtain like walls. Daneath’s light shown ahead, as the warrior turned his shield to and thro.</p><p></p><p>“So Drik, what scared you and Drok that you left your gear?”</p><p></p><p>“Not scare me, scared Drok,” said Drik.</p><p></p><p>“Not true! Scared Drik!” countered Drok.</p><p></p><p>“Wonderful, stupid <em>blortch,</em>” muttered Beepu not quietly at all, causing the pair of goblins to glare at the gnome.</p><p></p><p>“Rude,” spat Drik.</p><p></p><p>Drok ignored the racial slur and continued to speak to Daneath, “It large and had many weapons.”</p><p></p><p>Daneath looked at the pair and frowned, “Many weapons? Like more than two?”</p><p></p><p>“Um yes?” Drok replied uncertainly. He then spoke to his brother in goblin.</p><p></p><p>“<em>Is many more than two?”</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>“Many more.”</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>“How many?”</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>“three?”</em></p><p></p><p>“Three,” Drik said with a bit more confidence.</p><p></p><p>“How high can you two count?” I asked.</p><p></p><p>“Two.” “Three.” The goblins replied.</p><p></p><p>“Fantastic,” Iesa said resigned.</p><p></p><p>Soon the passages rejoined into a chamber perhaps seven paces square with a tunnel that continued deeper to our left. Following the tunnel, it too opened into a larger gallery, separated by more curtains of stalagmites, creating separate pathways through the large chamber. As we followed one of the paths, we entered a clear area near the center of the roughly rectangular chamber. The walls were slick with water, streaking the rock formations grey, with mixtures of white, brown and russet banded the walls and columns. But in the middle of the smooth center, we saw a pair of packs and scattered curved metal swords, crossbows, and tools. But the packs seemed to be torn apart, and the metal works were embedded into the rock, as if cast in place into plaster.</p><p></p><p>The Goblins wasted no time and bounded forth. They grabbed the pommels of the swords, and with all their might started to free the weapons from the rock with loud snapping and cracking noises. As they worked, Iesa knelt to look at the tools sunken into the stone.</p><p></p><p>“I don’t understand how they became part of the rock,” Iesa said, turn his head around looking for answers. “What did this?” he said pointing at the pile.</p><p></p><p>Drik scrunched his nose and said, “Thing with shiny armor and weapons.”</p><p></p><p>“Many weapons,” Drok corrected who was picking through the ruined packs and placing choice items into their pockets. I noticed that neither were interested in the mining tools left on the ground.</p><p></p><p>“Neither of you are miners?” I asked the pair.</p><p></p><p>“No,” said Drik.</p><p></p><p>“Make hats,” Drok said with a smile, pointing to the rust colored, brimless hat on his head.</p><p></p><p>“So…why did your boss, er lasher send you here with digging tools.”</p><p></p><p>Drik shrugged, “Said we now miners. Lasher not listen to us,”</p><p></p><p>“Lasher not bright,” agreed Drok.</p><p></p><p>It was at this point I noticed a motion out of the corner of my eye. As I turned my eyes burned as a flare of a bright scintillating light exploded in front of me. Colors swam in front of my eyes, and my vision was spoiled. I could barely see, and shadows played across the floor and roof of the chamber. Turning my head and shielding my eyes with my hands, I could see that Beepu was doing much the same I as was. But the rest were covering their eyes with their hands, staggering blindly.</p><p></p><p>“What the?” Iesa shouted in pain, and as he did so, I could hear the swishing of many somethings through the air. Turning to look, while shielded my eyes with my hand, I could see flails. The weapons were being swung haphazardly in front of a dark mass highlighted by the dazzling light. It moved with plodding slowness towards the warrior, each of the flails swinging closer and closer.</p><p></p><p>“D! Get your shield up!” I yelled, prompting the warrior responded by doing just that, trying to put the metal barrier in front of him, just in time to deflect a ball from crushing his head. And then another, and then another. Daneath’s shield was pounded downward with each blow that he couldn’t see, until finally two more flails reached over the barrier Daneath held in front of him, smashing and pushing him down almost to his knees. Behind him, Iesa stood, trying to clear his head from the sensory overload.</p><p></p><p>“That’s <em>five</em> weapons,” Daneath roared after suffering the blows.</p><p></p><p>“Yes! Two! Three!” the goblins said gleefully, and even though they could barely see, swung at the amorphous shape, silhouetted by the light, and then backed away before a flail could find either of them.</p><p></p><p>“This is not acceptable!” Beepu focused and sent a bolt of flame toward the shape. His confident face faltered, as the bolt came streaking back and striking himself in the chest. The smell of singed hair and cloth now hung in the air as Beepu coughed in surprise, unable to speak.</p><p></p><p>I gritted my teeth and quickly plucked the strand and threw a pair of bolts. I appeared to have better aim or luck, as both struck the dark form, the thing quivered with it making a strange rasping sound.</p><p></p><p>The light started to dim, leaving Daneath’s shield as the only beacon of light in the room, and I could finally see what our foe was. A giant snail, its tan hide, shimmering with a rainbow sheen. On its head were five flail shaped tentacles, each whirling the air, waiting for the moment to bring them down on their foe. On the snail’s back was a large shimmering shell of pearlescent whites and blue tones, the light within fading. It moved its ponderous bulk slowly and I watched as they swung and battered Daneath again, with three landing solid blows on the warrior.</p><p></p><p>Iesa now had cleared his eyes of the dazzling display. Watching Daneath swing and miss, he took the opening it created and lunged striking the creature, and causing a pair of the tentacles to slump, and hang limply on the side of the snail. He then backed away, feinting and avoiding any serious blow from hitting him.</p><p></p><p>Drik and Drok, simply moved away, dragging the remains of their packs behind them. From them, I saw them drop to the ground, their curved swords, and empty out their packs, grabbing and awkwardly trying to cock the machinery, while stumbling around looking for quarrels to load them with.</p><p></p><p>Beepu on the other hand was angry, his face purple as he tried again, throwing more fire onto the snail. This time the bolt struck the creature in its midsection, with a wet sounding ‘thud,” but I wasn’t sure it had any effect as the moistened skin showed no signs of scorching or burns. Overhead the snail, Foggle was in the thick of the fight, making hooting sounds, and flying between the flails.</p><p></p><p>“Drat!” Beepu shouted “The stupid <em>blorch </em>are in the way.”</p><p></p><p>“I don’t think,” as I pulled again on the strands and threw another pair of bolts at the flailing snail. “that’s the problem! I don’t think fire hurts the thing.”</p><p></p><p><em>--Hey boss…you might need to cover your eyes</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>Wha—? </em></p><p></p><p>Another blinding light erupted from our left flank. I barely had time to cover my eyes with my shield arm from the flash, and I heard the brothers both grunt in pain.</p><p></p><p>“Sodding Baator, another one,” I yelled.</p><p></p><p>“Hadn’t noticed,” Iesa retorted, again trying blink through tears and struggling to stay balanced in the swirling light.</p><p></p><p>“What?” Daneath, blinded and staggering himself, “How many more weapons?</p><p></p><p>“Two”,”Three,” Drik and Drok each shouted, each firing a bolt at the first assailant, and both finding their mark, and sinking deep into the flesh of the snail.</p><p></p><p>“Learn to count damn it! So, five…ten. Ten now is what you are saying?”</p><p></p><p>“No!” I threw more bolts at the first one, and one struck home, while the other careened back at me, which my shield blocked. “Eight…no seven!”</p><p></p><p>Daneath shook his head, as the light from the second snail dimmed. He twisted and charged at it, hoping to keep it from joining its peer, and creating a whirling wall of flails. But as he moved, the first snail, appeared to swing and stretch its tentacle wide, slamming into Daneath’s exposed right side. I could hear the crack of bone over the dull metal crunching sound, and Daneath tripped and fell, sprawling on to the ground, where he now laid motionless.</p><p></p><p>“Myr! I’m going to need help here!” Iesa shouted as he started to position himself to strike, waiting for the right chance.</p><p></p><p>I swallowed, looked at each of the snails and Daneath and moved. I ran towards the first snail, while snapping a white strand and tossing its energy at Daneath, while focusing and pulling on the dark strand to grip it in around the first as I ran towards it. The skeletal hand gripped it tearing away parts of its life. But I didn’t stop; I hefted my shield up and and braced myself for the onslaught.</p><p></p><p>Two flails slammed down onto the wood and brass that bound my shield together. But the blows seemed ill-coordinated, like the snail was off balance somehow. Peeking around my shield to see, I saw the flash of Iesa’s rapier as he thrust into the body of the snail. Ichor spurt forth drenching my and shield and I in a foul and tacky liquid. I saw Iesa pull his blade away, and watched as the snail started to quiver, and it rapidly pulled itself into its shell. Then started a low sound, a hum just on the edge of hearing. But it soon grew in pitch and volume, until its wail filled and echoed throughout the caverns.</p><p></p><p>From my right, I saw Beepu whisper an enchantment, and three bolts of light erupted from his fingers. They streaked and struck the creature with flashes of light and sparks. Then over the wailing I heard the snapping of quarrels. But neither found their mark as they bounced off of the scintillating shell of the remaining snail. Turning Iesa and I closed with the creature. But before either of us could strike, we heard a yell and Daneath charged into the web of flails.</p><p></p><p>As he approached, the five quickly rained down blows onto Daneath. This time he was prepared, and his sword swung parrying the blows, and striking with a riposte, cutting deeply into the soft body of the snail. I could see him focus and I watched him slash two more times. More ichor spurt from the wounds and two of the flails drooped and hung limply from the head of the snail. I then heard the goblins swear, as two more quarrels skittered across the floor, missing their target.</p><p></p><p>Iesa moved and slashed with the tip of his blade, leaving a deep wound in the flesh of the snail, dripping green ichor down to the floor, and then quickly moved away from any retaliation. I again focused and wrested away more life from it, as the skeletal hand clutched the snail. But it was Beepu who once again with more bolts of life, striking the creature. It, like the first, pulled itself into its shell and now we had another death wail in the cavern. While not deafening, the noise reverberated throughout the stone, echoing painfully around us.</p><p></p><p>I looked around; and beyond the dust that was being kicked up from the noise, nothing moved. No other snails threatened us. Looking around. I saw that there was a passage that was leading deeper into the cavern. With the snails wailing on, we moved forward. Moving cautiously, we started down it, looking for more assailants.</p><p></p><p>The wailing continued, and we had barely stepped three paces, when I smelled something. It was a moist earth smell that made my nose tingle. Soon my whole head was buzzing, and I felt light headed. TI shook my head trying to clear it, when I felt…something else; a presence. And then I heard in my head a thought that wasn’t my own or Gossamer’s. </p><p></p><p><em>You have slain our gardeners! Why should we not turn your meat bodies into loam for our brethren?</em></p><p></p><p><strong>Session notes:</strong></p><p></p><p>So, enter the goblins, and needless to say they were a large thorn in the dm’s own side. I think he really expected something more violent to happen to the pair. Needless to say, he was very wrong.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Nthal, post: 7887814, member: 6971069"] [CENTER][B]The Brothers in Arms…but not [I]those[/I] Brothers - January 8th, 2020[/B] [I]I pride myself in my independence, but I don’t turn away help when I can find it. Usually trust, or the lack of it is the barrier. But sometimes, the help you find really does come from strange places.[/I][/CENTER] Iesa led us overland through elven paths hidden in the forest. But it was becoming easier for him to follow a path once he knew what to look for. It didn’t hurt that following a Firbolg was easier than following elves. “Are you sure that’s Ravalan’s?” Daneath asked as he squinted at the dirt. I stood next to Daneath, also looking where our Knight was pointing, and was trying to understand how a divot indicated it was a Firbolg. It wasn’t working. “I don’t understand the problem; the width is almost twice as wide as the toes of an elven boot—” Iesa was trying to explain. “—The ball of the foot?” I said, still staring at the dirt. “Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Iesa waved dismissively at me. “But in the soft dirt—” “—How do you know a foot even made that?” Daneath asked still not convinced. “Because the way it’s turned up, with the heel mark a hand and half behind it,” Iesa said, pointing at another area of disturbed earth. “And again, its larger than an elven foot.” “And what are you using for comparison?” Beepu asked, while chewing on some dried fruit. “I’m using Myrai’s feet for comparison, so as I—” “—What?” I said, my head snapping up to look at Iesa, “What about my feet? Have you been following me or something?” “Yes…when we take breaks and stops, I try to find your prints, because they’re harder to find than Daneath’s with the sabatons he wears.” Iesa spread his hands wide in an apologetic gesture. “At least that makes some sense,” Daneath said quietly, looking down at the mail plates covering his boots. “True,” Beepu started smugly. “And I am sure it will take a lot more effort to find my tracks as I am far lighter afoot, and my feet are much smaller.” “Actually, you’re as easy as Daneath.” Iesa said smiling. “Your boot marks have a distinctive heel and for some reason you stomp and sink deeply in the ground as you walk. But it’s easier to follow the crumbs you drop.” “Crumbs? I do not drop crumbs!” Beepu said confused. “Of course not,” I said as I pulled out a kerchief and wipe Beepu’s shocked face of the remains of his snack. Then I promptly flicked a strand at it, instantly cleaning it. Beepu’s face turned red. “I am not that easy to track!” “Oh…no, you aren’t,” Iesa said trying to mollify the gnome. “Myrai is just the hardest is all. She tends to step very lightly, similar to the elves, but her foot is just tad narrower than the males’ boots.” “So, you use my feet to compare everything else to? Not…your feet?” I said a little perturbed at the idea that Iesa has been using my feet as his basis of comparison. “Well I can’t follow myself,” He explained brushing off the observation. “Anyway, Ravalan has been here, and we seem to be catching up. If we push, we can probably catch him, maybe tonight.” “We’ll let’s get going,”: Daneath said, and with a flourish, gestured to Iesa to lead the way. Iesa gave a mocking bow, and then moved ahead down the path we all hoped he could see, with Daneath trailing shaking his head. “I am not easy to track, and I do not eat that much,” Beepu muttered defensively. “No, it’s just a little bit very frequently, and you like those sweet crackers.” I said. “Well…the elves do make great crackers,” Beepu acknowledged. “Trust me, I’d rather that, than the idea that Iesa has been following me around everywhere,” I said wondering where Iesa’s boundaries truly lay. [HR] ------[/HR] We had left the forest itself now and were descending into the scrub in the hills. Here there were thorny shrubs, waist height scattered around, and very few trees. The path we were following appeared to enter into a system of gullies. The sun was nearing the horizon and the air beginning to cool. As we started to enter the gully, Iesa stopped, raising his hand up and turning with his finger across his lips. I stood there and listened. It wasn’t hard, but I could hear a pair of voices. Both were high pitched, nasal and very scratchy. As I listened, I could barely make out the words; it took a moment until I heard one that I knew: [I]Booyagh.[/I] Goblins. Iesa held out a hand upwards, holding us back. Then he moved forward to investigate, while we waited. After a moment, I pull on the strands and send a message to him. [I]Iesa, goblins? --Yeah, good ear. I see a pair of them just…sitting. But no weapons or anything. Sitting? Like ready to ambush? --No, that’s just it. They are in the middle of the trail. Not hiding at all.[/I] “A pair of goblins, sitting in the open, without weapons?” I whispered aloud to Daneath and Beepu. “Bait I bet.” Beepu said with a frown. “We’re a bad catch then,” Daneath replied his brow knitted as he thought. I frowned and cast my thoughts back to Iesa: [I]The others think its bait. --I would too. But I don’t see anyone else in the rocks or brush. I think we can question them and learn more.” From a goblin? Well I suppose. Let me prep something but take a good look around. I’ll contact you soon.[/I] I reach into my pouch and finger some soot and salt I had stored there, closed my eyes and started to focus on the strands again. I started whispering the ritual so I could understand their speech. Beepu caught sight of my efforts and I heard him talk to Daneath. “I think we are going to have a meeting,” Beepu started. “What? We are going to what…parley with goblins.” Daneath said surprised. “Appears so. And who taught you that word?” “What, ‘Parley?’ Probably you.” “Well alright then…but why are you surprised?” Daneath shrugged. “I’m not sure there is a point. But I suppose I look imposing enough,” he said pointing out the armor he now wore. Basically, it was a compromise between the hobgoblin mail and his regular set, taking the parts that worked best for him. The net effect was better overall protection at the cost of aesthetics. And Daneath’s motivation were simply that; protection. I opened my eyes, and cast my thoughts back at Iesa; [I]Ready, find anything? --No…they are alone. I’m going a little ahead to block them. But I don’t think they are going to run. Oh? --I don’t think they are from around here. Sneak on up.[/I] “Follow me, we are going to catch them on the trail,” I said, moving towards the direction Iesa went. “You really [B]want [/B]to talk to them?” Beepu said looking at me carefully. “I thought you would have wanted to nail their heads to the wall Myr.” It was true. A day or two ago…or ten or twelve as it turned out, I would have done exactly that. But Iesa’s curiosity had raised my own. “I’ll settle for the Prophesied One’s for now.” “Let’s make them squeak,” Daneath said, and we headed to the voices. We made our way cautiously, in case Iesa had erred on the pair being bait. Somehow, we made little noise and we made our way down. Then the path turned, and we finally saw the goblins. When I saw them, I could see exactly what Iesa meant. The pair were seated on rocks, arguing with each other. Glancing over them, they were typical goblins, yellow skinned, with dark eyes and greasy black shoulder length hair, faces smeared with dirt, their hands ending in thick, rough and cracked pointed nails. But they weren’t dressed like the other goblins that we had seen. First, they were dressed in cloth and linens, and not rough boiled leather. Both of their clothes were streaked in dirt and sweat and had not been cleaned in some time. The second both wore shoes, with the toe section was cut out so their long toenails could extend over the soles. The worg riders and other goblins, barely had leather wrappings by comparison. Finally, in their hands, they each held a brimless hat, either of which would have given themselves an extra head in height, if they were wearing them. As I looked at them and the way they dressed, and thought how it made them look like dirty, ugly, wayward twin children. But they sat there, angrily arguing with each other, oblivious to our approach. We didn’t even have to sneak, they were so absorbed that I was within a sword’s length of them, when Iesa emerged from the brush. Neither turned their heads at Iesa’s grand reveal, which took him aback. Frowning a moment, he waited and then looked at me, to which the only thing I did in response was shrug. Finally, Iesa cleared his throat to get their attention. The goblin on my left turned his head to look at him and I could tell by his frantic head turning between his friend and Iesa, that we weren’t expected. His partner did the complete reverse, looking up at me and then looking at [I]his[/I] partner. Both then tried to shake his partner and pointed in to each other’s visible concern, while continue to stare. Finally, each turned their head, to look at either Iesa or I and realized that we blocked their way. Then sighing, both just stood up and raised their hands. This was certainly was not what I expected, and I found it a little challenging to maintain the façade of a dangerous adventurer. They weren’t exactly the bloody screaming threat of the goblins that had attacked us before. But that then begged the questions that Iesa asked next: “Who are you and what are you doing here?” The one on the left straightened up and said “Drik” and pointed to his partner and said “Drok.” The one on the right, did the exact thing at the same time, in reverse, pointing to himself as “Drok” and his partner “Drik.” Then the one named Drik continued. “Told to go to cave and find stuff to dig up, but—” “—Attacked by big one! Very mean—” Interrupted Drok. “—I talking here! Dropped tools n things and ran—” Drik continued. “—Here. Now wait for lashing.” Drok lamented. As I listened, I knew something was familiar in how they spoke. But Iesa continued. “Lashing? Who is going to give you a lashing?” Drok rolled his eyes, “Lasher Reetog. He lash—” “—Ruin shirts.” Drik said unhappily. “Might ruin hat!” Drok nodded in agreement. “But better than lose head.” “Would rather go home.” Drik said sadly and Drok continued to nod. “Home?” Daneath now addressed the pair, “In the High Moor?” “That new home, since Lasher found us,” Drok said looking at the warrior. “We from Skullport. Hired to deliver message to Secomber bar—” “—Lasher found us. We became part of host,” finished Drik. “Skullport? [I]The [/I]Skullport under Waterdeep?” Iesa asked excitedly. “That’s it;” I said as I realized what I had been missing. “The accent is from Waterdeep. All the others sounded different.” Daneath looked at the pair a moment and then asked his own question. “Do you know where the Prophesied One is?” The two goblins looked at each other their eyes widening. They then started to look around them, as if looking for a way to escape before responding. “We…know…how to find camp—” started Drok; “—Rather go home.” Drik finished. “Well, if the lasher, or any lasher found you, you wouldn’t be able to go home right?” Iesa asked, I could see ideas running through his head. “Yes,” both goblins answered warily. “Then, we help you, you help us!” Iesa exclaimed smiling. “We get your tools back, and you help us find the Prophesied One. Once we find them, you will be able to return to Skullport easily, and no ‘lasher’ will bother you.” The goblins looked at Iesa with squinted eyes, as their small minds thought about the deal. “What?” Beepu exclaimed, his eyes open in shock. “We aren’t seriously going to make them guides?” “Why not?” Daneath asked. “If they know the way, that will save you time.” Beepu’s face contorted as he faced that logic head on, clearly having misgivings at the idea. “Ah…well…speed isn’t everything—” “—Not the way you have gone on about it,” Iesa pointed out. “Not sure you want—” Drik started. “—To meet the one. Not sure you—” Drok continued. “—Strong enough,” Drik completed. I came over and knelt by the pair. The looked at me in both doubt and fear. “See, we do have some experience in these matters. Look at his armor.” I said, and I pointed to Daneath’s pauldrons. The goblins both cocked their heads and looked. Then the both looked at each other and spoke excitedly. “These ones lasher look for—" Drok started. “-- Ones the lasher told all to kill.” I turned to Daneath with a smile and wink, “I don’t think you can kill Big D that easily.” “Myr, don’t start---” The goblins eyes lit up with excitement then. “Big D? We know of D. Deal deal deal!” They both said and without pausing. “This is not a good idea,” Beepu his arms crossed in front of him. I noticed that he was standing on his toes to make sure he had a little more height than the pair. If they noticed, they didn’t make a sign as they excitedly look at each of us expectedly. “It’ll work out Beepu,” I said reassuringly. “Besides they can help the brothers on second watch and help them see in the dark.” [HR][/HR] “Another dark cave,” Iesa said glumly. “I knew there was a downside to this.” “Drik and Drok will be a help,” I said patting the man on the shoulder. “Well…sure, but that doesn’t help [I]me[/I] see in the dark,” he said as he looked at the wide cave mouth. It was wedged at the end of the gully and seemed to be completely natural. The peak day sun did nothing to light up the entrance or mollify Iesa. Having played a ‘Game of You’ with other Sesates while blinded, I understood the trepidation. “Well, you aren’t going to be blind after all,” and once again I placed a warm glow of light from the strand on Daneath’s shield. I then heard whispers in goblin behind me; [I]“Magic?” “Magic/sorcerer. Wings strange.” “Strange. Not human? “Not human. Other? “Other.”[/I] The prior magic I had used to understand other languages I kept the strands coiling over and over. It was odd to hear the words, and then their meaning. Booyahg meant magic, but Booyahg three times meant sorcerer. But I decided not to engage them in conversation about this; I wanted this ability to be a secret until we knew if we could really trust them. I know I [I]wanted[/I] to. I knew the stories of goblin hosts, all under the banner of Maglubiyet. The power had subjugated many others before him, and supposedly rule the rest with an iron fist. That legions roamed many of the worlds, and after the soldiers died…they became petitioners to fight on forever in the plane of Acheron; warring forever. But I didn’t realize that it might not be voluntary. Was their fate tied so much to a power’s whim? Could their belief in another break the chains that held them? I really wanted to help them out if possible; to have the choice. I just didn’t want to die in the process. We enter the cave. The passages twisted to our right, separated by stalagmites and stalactites long since merged into curtain like walls. Daneath’s light shown ahead, as the warrior turned his shield to and thro. “So Drik, what scared you and Drok that you left your gear?” “Not scare me, scared Drok,” said Drik. “Not true! Scared Drik!” countered Drok. “Wonderful, stupid [I]blortch,[/I]” muttered Beepu not quietly at all, causing the pair of goblins to glare at the gnome. “Rude,” spat Drik. Drok ignored the racial slur and continued to speak to Daneath, “It large and had many weapons.” Daneath looked at the pair and frowned, “Many weapons? Like more than two?” “Um yes?” Drok replied uncertainly. He then spoke to his brother in goblin. “[I]Is many more than two?” “Many more.” “How many?” “three?”[/I] “Three,” Drik said with a bit more confidence. “How high can you two count?” I asked. “Two.” “Three.” The goblins replied. “Fantastic,” Iesa said resigned. Soon the passages rejoined into a chamber perhaps seven paces square with a tunnel that continued deeper to our left. Following the tunnel, it too opened into a larger gallery, separated by more curtains of stalagmites, creating separate pathways through the large chamber. As we followed one of the paths, we entered a clear area near the center of the roughly rectangular chamber. The walls were slick with water, streaking the rock formations grey, with mixtures of white, brown and russet banded the walls and columns. But in the middle of the smooth center, we saw a pair of packs and scattered curved metal swords, crossbows, and tools. But the packs seemed to be torn apart, and the metal works were embedded into the rock, as if cast in place into plaster. The Goblins wasted no time and bounded forth. They grabbed the pommels of the swords, and with all their might started to free the weapons from the rock with loud snapping and cracking noises. As they worked, Iesa knelt to look at the tools sunken into the stone. “I don’t understand how they became part of the rock,” Iesa said, turn his head around looking for answers. “What did this?” he said pointing at the pile. Drik scrunched his nose and said, “Thing with shiny armor and weapons.” “Many weapons,” Drok corrected who was picking through the ruined packs and placing choice items into their pockets. I noticed that neither were interested in the mining tools left on the ground. “Neither of you are miners?” I asked the pair. “No,” said Drik. “Make hats,” Drok said with a smile, pointing to the rust colored, brimless hat on his head. “So…why did your boss, er lasher send you here with digging tools.” Drik shrugged, “Said we now miners. Lasher not listen to us,” “Lasher not bright,” agreed Drok. It was at this point I noticed a motion out of the corner of my eye. As I turned my eyes burned as a flare of a bright scintillating light exploded in front of me. Colors swam in front of my eyes, and my vision was spoiled. I could barely see, and shadows played across the floor and roof of the chamber. Turning my head and shielding my eyes with my hands, I could see that Beepu was doing much the same I as was. But the rest were covering their eyes with their hands, staggering blindly. “What the?” Iesa shouted in pain, and as he did so, I could hear the swishing of many somethings through the air. Turning to look, while shielded my eyes with my hand, I could see flails. The weapons were being swung haphazardly in front of a dark mass highlighted by the dazzling light. It moved with plodding slowness towards the warrior, each of the flails swinging closer and closer. “D! Get your shield up!” I yelled, prompting the warrior responded by doing just that, trying to put the metal barrier in front of him, just in time to deflect a ball from crushing his head. And then another, and then another. Daneath’s shield was pounded downward with each blow that he couldn’t see, until finally two more flails reached over the barrier Daneath held in front of him, smashing and pushing him down almost to his knees. Behind him, Iesa stood, trying to clear his head from the sensory overload. “That’s [I]five[/I] weapons,” Daneath roared after suffering the blows. “Yes! Two! Three!” the goblins said gleefully, and even though they could barely see, swung at the amorphous shape, silhouetted by the light, and then backed away before a flail could find either of them. “This is not acceptable!” Beepu focused and sent a bolt of flame toward the shape. His confident face faltered, as the bolt came streaking back and striking himself in the chest. The smell of singed hair and cloth now hung in the air as Beepu coughed in surprise, unable to speak. I gritted my teeth and quickly plucked the strand and threw a pair of bolts. I appeared to have better aim or luck, as both struck the dark form, the thing quivered with it making a strange rasping sound. The light started to dim, leaving Daneath’s shield as the only beacon of light in the room, and I could finally see what our foe was. A giant snail, its tan hide, shimmering with a rainbow sheen. On its head were five flail shaped tentacles, each whirling the air, waiting for the moment to bring them down on their foe. On the snail’s back was a large shimmering shell of pearlescent whites and blue tones, the light within fading. It moved its ponderous bulk slowly and I watched as they swung and battered Daneath again, with three landing solid blows on the warrior. Iesa now had cleared his eyes of the dazzling display. Watching Daneath swing and miss, he took the opening it created and lunged striking the creature, and causing a pair of the tentacles to slump, and hang limply on the side of the snail. He then backed away, feinting and avoiding any serious blow from hitting him. Drik and Drok, simply moved away, dragging the remains of their packs behind them. From them, I saw them drop to the ground, their curved swords, and empty out their packs, grabbing and awkwardly trying to cock the machinery, while stumbling around looking for quarrels to load them with. Beepu on the other hand was angry, his face purple as he tried again, throwing more fire onto the snail. This time the bolt struck the creature in its midsection, with a wet sounding ‘thud,” but I wasn’t sure it had any effect as the moistened skin showed no signs of scorching or burns. Overhead the snail, Foggle was in the thick of the fight, making hooting sounds, and flying between the flails. “Drat!” Beepu shouted “The stupid [I]blorch [/I]are in the way.” “I don’t think,” as I pulled again on the strands and threw another pair of bolts at the flailing snail. “that’s the problem! I don’t think fire hurts the thing.” [I]--Hey boss…you might need to cover your eyes Wha—? [/I] Another blinding light erupted from our left flank. I barely had time to cover my eyes with my shield arm from the flash, and I heard the brothers both grunt in pain. “Sodding Baator, another one,” I yelled. “Hadn’t noticed,” Iesa retorted, again trying blink through tears and struggling to stay balanced in the swirling light. “What?” Daneath, blinded and staggering himself, “How many more weapons? “Two”,”Three,” Drik and Drok each shouted, each firing a bolt at the first assailant, and both finding their mark, and sinking deep into the flesh of the snail. “Learn to count damn it! So, five…ten. Ten now is what you are saying?” “No!” I threw more bolts at the first one, and one struck home, while the other careened back at me, which my shield blocked. “Eight…no seven!” Daneath shook his head, as the light from the second snail dimmed. He twisted and charged at it, hoping to keep it from joining its peer, and creating a whirling wall of flails. But as he moved, the first snail, appeared to swing and stretch its tentacle wide, slamming into Daneath’s exposed right side. I could hear the crack of bone over the dull metal crunching sound, and Daneath tripped and fell, sprawling on to the ground, where he now laid motionless. “Myr! I’m going to need help here!” Iesa shouted as he started to position himself to strike, waiting for the right chance. I swallowed, looked at each of the snails and Daneath and moved. I ran towards the first snail, while snapping a white strand and tossing its energy at Daneath, while focusing and pulling on the dark strand to grip it in around the first as I ran towards it. The skeletal hand gripped it tearing away parts of its life. But I didn’t stop; I hefted my shield up and and braced myself for the onslaught. Two flails slammed down onto the wood and brass that bound my shield together. But the blows seemed ill-coordinated, like the snail was off balance somehow. Peeking around my shield to see, I saw the flash of Iesa’s rapier as he thrust into the body of the snail. Ichor spurt forth drenching my and shield and I in a foul and tacky liquid. I saw Iesa pull his blade away, and watched as the snail started to quiver, and it rapidly pulled itself into its shell. Then started a low sound, a hum just on the edge of hearing. But it soon grew in pitch and volume, until its wail filled and echoed throughout the caverns. From my right, I saw Beepu whisper an enchantment, and three bolts of light erupted from his fingers. They streaked and struck the creature with flashes of light and sparks. Then over the wailing I heard the snapping of quarrels. But neither found their mark as they bounced off of the scintillating shell of the remaining snail. Turning Iesa and I closed with the creature. But before either of us could strike, we heard a yell and Daneath charged into the web of flails. As he approached, the five quickly rained down blows onto Daneath. This time he was prepared, and his sword swung parrying the blows, and striking with a riposte, cutting deeply into the soft body of the snail. I could see him focus and I watched him slash two more times. More ichor spurt from the wounds and two of the flails drooped and hung limply from the head of the snail. I then heard the goblins swear, as two more quarrels skittered across the floor, missing their target. Iesa moved and slashed with the tip of his blade, leaving a deep wound in the flesh of the snail, dripping green ichor down to the floor, and then quickly moved away from any retaliation. I again focused and wrested away more life from it, as the skeletal hand clutched the snail. But it was Beepu who once again with more bolts of life, striking the creature. It, like the first, pulled itself into its shell and now we had another death wail in the cavern. While not deafening, the noise reverberated throughout the stone, echoing painfully around us. I looked around; and beyond the dust that was being kicked up from the noise, nothing moved. No other snails threatened us. Looking around. I saw that there was a passage that was leading deeper into the cavern. With the snails wailing on, we moved forward. Moving cautiously, we started down it, looking for more assailants. The wailing continued, and we had barely stepped three paces, when I smelled something. It was a moist earth smell that made my nose tingle. Soon my whole head was buzzing, and I felt light headed. TI shook my head trying to clear it, when I felt…something else; a presence. And then I heard in my head a thought that wasn’t my own or Gossamer’s. [I]You have slain our gardeners! Why should we not turn your meat bodies into loam for our brethren?[/I] [B]Session notes:[/B] So, enter the goblins, and needless to say they were a large thorn in the dm’s own side. I think he really expected something more violent to happen to the pair. Needless to say, he was very wrong. [/QUOTE]
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