As the newcomer threw herself into the inn, her foot snagged on a loose floorboard, and she came tumbling down to her knees as tears streamed down her face. "They took him!" She cried.

 

The dramatic entrance caused a stirring of voices amongst the patrons.

 

"Isn’t that Old Miller Sam’s daughter, Bethwin?"

 

"Goblins? But they’re usually quite peaceful up there in the mountains."

 

Oh, I don’t like this, not one bit."

 

"Awh shite. If they got Old Miller Sam, who’s to say the rest of us are safe?"

 

"The town guard isn’t big enough to head up there on their own, and the Lord’s estate is a two-day ride. What are we going to do?!"

 

"By’eck I knew this day would come!"

 

The room was in a state of chaos as everyone was standing up from their chairs and benches, shouting over one another on what the next course of action should be: a militia should be formed to protect the town; the mayor should be alerted at once, no it was more important that the women’s circle be told first, no the Lord needed to know above all else. Merchants eyed each other warily, each one considering maybe it was time they set off on the road and that they should hire a few extra swords for protection. Some thought maybe it would be better to hunker down and wait it out, though it wouldn’t be profitable. There were even a couple who considered heading back the way they came to the port. Surely that was the safest option.

 

Ignoring all the commotion, Selia rushed from her seat over to the crying girl, dropping to her knees and placing her hands on her shoulders as she tried to comfort her. Shh, shhh, there there. Be calm little one. Tell us exactly what has happened." As the Brachiosaurus finished speaking, the entire room went quiet, everyone intent on listening to the poor girl’s story. By this point, Gareth had moved away from his own table to stand by the two crouched figures, his hand outstretched as he offered a handkerchief so the young orange-haired girl might dry her eyes. Even good Ser Damien was leaning forward on his elbows, intent on hearing what she had to say.

 

"I-I-I..." She paused for a long moment, trying hard to compose herself despite the tear-streaked eyes. Taking a deep breath, she continued. "He went up to the Mountains, looking for old Derron’s helmet…" There came some scoffs and tuts of disapproval from the crowd. "He was always obsessed with that old story, and when he never came home, I went looking for him. It’s happened from time to time, only when..." She paused, a small choking noise emanating from her throat.

 

Selina wrapped her in a hug. "Take your time." She said it in a motherly tone that seemed to actually help somewhat. "When you’re good and ready, you can talk." Her long neck wrapped itself around her shoulders before rounding on Gareth. "Derron’s helm? Any idea what that is?"

 

The Parasaurolophus tapped his chin thoughtfully. "If my history is right, then that must be the fabled Helm of Derron ‘Iron Snake’ Kerrendor, the general this place was named after those few thousand years ago. It was said he wore armour as black as night and was one of the finest fighters of his time, favouring a spear over the sword. He was also famous for his helmet, wrought in the shape of a large serpent with a pair of brilliant red sapphires inlayed for eyes."

 

"Sounds valuable." Came Sellia. "So I’m guessing it’s somewhere up in those mountains?" She gestured with her head in the vague direction of the Wind Whispers. "How did that happen then?"

 

"Hmmm, the reason is only half known, I’m afraid." Gareth continued with a frown, his own head turning to face the same direction as Selia’s, towards those forbidding mountains. "Derron died as the battle here drew to its end. It was said he kept fighting, despite a dozen fatal wounds, going through pure spite and grit. Once victory was declared and the foe was seen retreating, he slumped against a tree and passed not long after with a satisfied grin on his face. All his personal guard had died long since, so it was just his young squire there to comfort him in his last moments. Some farmer boy he took a shine to, I think. Anyway, whatever was said between those two in their last minutes, no one knows, but the squire left for the mountains the next day, limping all the way with Deron’s helmet in hand. Then he came back and, well…" He gestured out wide before him. "The rest is history. It was said he buried the helmet somewhere up there, either as a last wish of a dying man or for his own reasons; no one really knows."

 

Then he grimaced. "And then there are those saying he didn’t take the helm up there. That the squire was killed during the battle and Derron’s helm was simply looted by opportunists and it was lost to time." A sad possibility, Gareth thought; such an ignominious end like that was downright depressing for such a storied heirloom.

 

"My-my father always believed in that story." Bethwin said as she wiped the tears from her eyes. "He said it was up there and we would be the ones to find it. We’d be set for life he said." She shook her head. "I don’t care about some stupid helmet. I just want my father back."

 

"Are you okay to carry on your story?" Selia asked soothingly. Growing up with three younger siblings and busy parents, Selia learned how to act like a surrogate mother a long time ago. It was times like this she was grateful for that little, now seldom-used skillset.

 

Bethwin nodded, dabbing her eyes one last time. She seemed to have stopped crying now, a good sign. "I went up the Wind Whsipers to find him. I’ve been going across those slopes my entire life; it wouldn’t be hard to find him, only…I found some of his tools scattered across the slope…and then I saw…them." She shuddered as she recalled the memories. "The Goblins have lived up there for ages, but they’ve never bothered anyone. They eat mushrooms or something and barely leave their caves. But I saw a couple. They were…stalking me. They didn’t know I spotted them. So as I got closer to the village, I ran, and I heard them calling after me." Tears began to well back up in her eyes. "Human! Human come back we-we have your da! We get you next" she threw herself into Selia’s chest sobbing loudly. "They took my father! I-I don’t know what I’m gonna do!"

 

Gareth crouched low next to her. He wasn’t used to dealing with…well, emotional people, but he had to try. He put a hand on her shoulder, earning him an approving look from Selia. "Look..I…" He sighed, trying to figure out just what to say. "Don’t worry, Bethwin, was it?" She turned up to face him with those glossy blue eyes. "I’m sure your father is okay. I tell you what, how about me and my new friend here go looking for him?" There seemed to be a glimmer of hope in those eyes, however faint, a glimmer that said maybe all wasn’t lost. "It’s only a few Goblins. They’re small and weak. We could probably just scare them off with a bit of magic." He smiled, and she faintly smiled back. "Then it’s settled. We’ll go find your father while you stay here, where it’s safe. Is that alright?" The girl nodded, drying her face—or trying to anyway—with the soaked handkerchief. When she was done, she offered it back to Gareth, who politely put his hands up. "Oh no, ah, you keep it. A gift." She seemed to be genuinely grateful for it. Poor child, Gareth thought.

 

"Right then." As he rose from the floor, Selia’s head arced around and came level with his, a look of concern on her face.

 

"You know it’s going to be more than just a few Goblins, correct?" She whispered quietly so that Bethwin couldn’t hear her. Still smiling, Gareth turned away, looking over the gathered crowd of patrons.

 

"Oh yeah. I fully expect as much. Which means…" He took a step forward towards the patrons, a hand raised in the air. "Alright! We’re organising a rescue party! Any takers?" He shouted across the room. Ideally, two more people at least, but we’ll gladly take more!"

 

His open invitation was met by subdued chatter and murmurs.

 

"Oh it’s far too dangerous…"

"I can’t leave my children on their own…"

"I’m…I’m afraid of goblins…"

‘Oo’eck. ‘Oo’s gonna guard me pumpkins if I’m gone?"

"I’d help, but me leg doesn’t work as well as it used to. I’d only slow ye down."

"It’s too dark out there now son; it’s madness to go at this time."

 

And a few dozen other reasons to boot. It seems that Gareth's persuasion skills just weren’t up to snuff at this time. A pity but he couldn't hold it against them. After all, they had families—and pumpkins—of their own to care for. Still, they couldn’t hope to mount a daring rescue with just the two of them. They needed more people….

 

"I shall lend thee mine sword!" A voice heroically called.

 

Rising up from his chair, knocking it over as he did so, he proudly stood there, hands on hips, gazing up at nothing in particular, good Ser Damien made for a striking figure. "Verily, I sense the smell of a most grave injustice. That is something I cannot allow!" Ser Damien placed a boot forward…onto the tabletop and hefted himself up. There he strode forward down the long length of the wooden table, casually stomping through other people’s food and kicking drinks aside as he made his way. "If this poor maiden’s father is in dire peril, then I shall offer aid." He finally reached the end of the table, kicking one last half-full mug aside and sending the metal cup and its contents splashing and bouncing away. He hoped down, his heavy metal armour making a dense thudding noise, slightly cracking the wooden floorboards under neath him. The knight extended his hand with a smile to Gareth. "It is my duty as a knight to protect the weak and the helpless, and so I pledge mine sword to ye friar, for such a noble cause. Even if we must also take along that vile witch…"

 

Selia rolled her eyes as Gareth reached out and took Ser Damien’s hand. "Well met, noble knight. It is good to have you with us." The Cleric Parasaurolophus shook his gauntletted hand with a smile before faltering. "Though with just the three of us…well, I think we need at least one more person to round our little rescue party off. I can heal and mend wounds; Selia can strike from afar…" Ser Damien pulled a face. "And you can tie up any trouble we might come across. But we need one more. Ideally someone who can do some reach damage at close range…."

 

"He’s right." Said put in. "It would have to be someone who can dish out a lot of pain while being able to take it. A real frontline fighter…"

 

Good Ser Damien rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Verily. We need a peerless warrior—well, a second one—someone with a large weapon perfect for striking foes from the side while they break upon mine shield of justice….But where could we find that last one…"

 

All three of them turned silently to face the Barbarian, still sat at her stool, facing away from everyone as she mulled over her ale.

 

Bethwin turned to face her as well.

 

Everyone in the tavern turned, all eyes towards Heydeth.

 

The Barbarian did not stir.

 

Selia let out a loud cough, and the Barbarian, still not turning around, slumped in her seat.

 

"Euuuuuugghhhhhhh…Do I have to?"

 

"Yes."

"Yes."

"Nay, er, I mean yes-eth"

 

The Pink Parasaurolophus spun halfway on her steel, elbow on table, resting her head on her hand as she looked the group coolly up and down. "You got any money, kid?"

 

"Um, n-no not really." The girl said awkwardly, gently clasping her hands together. "We don’t make much. It’s-it’s why my father went looking for that helm. I think he has a few silvers stashed away some-"

 

"Yeah, not worth my time then." She said smugly, with a slight curl to her lips.

 

"Oh my god, you can’t be serious!" Selia erupted.

 

"Goddess." Gareth corrected.

 

"Whatever. Look, this girl’s dad is in trouble, and he clearly needs help. Have you no heart?" The look she gave the barbarian was sharp enough to flay someone alive. But Heydeth was made of stronger stuff.

 

The Parasaurolophus shrugged. "Mhmm Nah. Girls gotta eat, and having a heart doesn’t exactly fill your belly. I feel bad for the kid, but…" She pulled a mock frown and shrugged, "I gotta get something out of it too. Goblins are dangerous, don’t ya know? Big risk and all that."

 

Selia took a step forward, her fists clenching in anger at the sheer audacity of this woman. She was half tempted to scorch her where she sat. See how she liked a heartless attitude. "Why you-"

 

Ser Damien stood in front of her, one hand blocking her, the other on his chest. "Allow me, damned one." He spun on his heels and strode towards the aloof Dino. "Well met, O’noble Savage!" He exclaimed boisterously. "I can see from thine arms and thy muscular build that thee art be a most steadfast warrior." He slapped her back before wrapping his hand around her shoulder and pulling her close. "Thou must indeed be strong and fierce…" He clenched his fist up for emphasis as he spoke. "Thou couldst indeed do so much good if thou tried. A true harbinger of justice like mineself. Think of it, dear uhhh…"

 

"Heydeth."

 

"Dearest Heydeth, the noble barbarian from a faraway land! Your ways are strange, alien, and backwards, but here? Here thou could learn from us civilized folk. Thou couldst better thyself in our image! And one of the highest principles of us clothes-wearing, stone-building living, not cloud-worshipping good people is this: justice above all else." His fist turned into a hand as he gestured out in a wide arc, forcing Gareth to awkwardly step to the side, out of view. "Tis what separates us from your foul, stinking, unwashed lot. Justice for all, from powerful kings to the meek peasant folk you see around you. Pray tell me, Heydeth, does this girl's plight not move ye? Does thou heart not quiver and quake at her predicament? Surely, thou wouldst wish to bring justice and honour to this small wretch and her equally wretch of a father? Think on it. Thou couldst earn honour and justice just like me! Thou could be…a hero!" Selia and Gareth shared dubious glances with one another. "A most striking paragon of truth and-"

 

"I think I’m good."

 

"Well I tried-eth." He shrugged walking away.

 

As the human joined the Brachiosaurus, they began discussing alternatives, such as hiring a few of the nearby merchant guards. Perhaps the town could gather the funds to pay for it. It was worth a shot.

 

"You know…" Gareth spoke quietly next to the barbarian. "There’s a chance he might have found that helm. Those big, fat sapphires... There for the taking." As he said that, Bethwin looked up, her eyes going wide.

 

"Y-yes! The sapphires! If he has them, they’re yours by all means!" She had a pleading look in her eyes. At this point, she was willing to do anything to get her father back. "I don’t care about that stupid helmet. I just want him to come home." Her eyes were glossy again, and she was ready to burst into tears at any moment.

 

Heydeth glanced over at the cleric. "What, and you think he even has the helmet? Pfft, yeah right." She rolled her eyes. "As if he’s just gonna happen to have some dumb relic that nooooone else happened to find." She pulled a face. "Give me a break."

 

"I’m not saying he does, but hey." Gareth shrugged. "Who knows. Maybe he does; call it a hunch." He raised his hands, fingers pointing up, palms outward. "I can’t claim he might have the helm, but you never know. It’s all I’m saying." He leaned in close, his mouth right next to her ear. "If he did, though, they’d be worth a small fortune. Well worth the effort."

 

Heydeth stared at Gareth in a most deadpan manner. "You really expect me to believe he’s just gonna coincidently have that dumb helm? Just like that? Ready for us to find when we save him? Pretty convenient."

 

Mia gave Inco her deadpan stare.

 

They all stared silently at Inco.

 

"W-what? You don’t know if he has it or not! Maybe he doesn’t! I don’t have to tell you anything." Inco spluttered. They just kept staring. "Shut up! Stop judging my writing skills!"

 

"Look, if he doesn’t have the helm, I’ll just pay you. That good enough?" Came an exacerbated Gareth, throwing his hands up in annoyance. "I’ve got a fair bit of gold in my pocket. Call it mercenary fees since CLEARLY the poor kid there isn’t enough motivation for you. That okay? Is that enough to satiate your greed?"

 

Heydeth sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Finnneeee. You’ve won me over, choir boy. But you better have a lot of gold in those pockets of yours." As she rose, she shot him a grin, pinching his cheeks and giving his head a shake. "You’re lucky you've got a cute face. Heh." That made him blush. Hefting her axe, she turned to stare down at the young girl. "Alright kid. I’m on board. Let’s go find your dad, eh?" She smiled down at the kid as her eyes grew wide at the sight of the barbarian.

 

"Welcome to the team." Came Selia, raising a hand in greeting and smiling. "Glad Gareth could win you over. We could use someone with both brawn and at least a little brain."

 

"Joyous day, Heydeth! You have mine and this small, frail, anaemic child’s gratitude for joining us on our quest of righteousness! We shall findeth this dearly lost father and reunite kith and kin. This, I swear!" Good Ser Damien proceeded to prattle on loudly to the rest of the room as Selia tried to reign him in.

 

For his part, Gareth hefted his coin pouch, counting the coins inside, occasionally shooting a glance up at the barbarian before looking back into his (definitely was a) purse. Mayhaps the cleric did not have as much coin as he claimed. And mayhaps the barbarian realised this from the awkward looks he kept giving her. Not good. She came stomping forward, axe hefted over her shoulder, giving the cleric a friendly little pat on the shoulder. "Don’t worry, choir boy. Tell you what, you won’t have to pay me depending on how you perform tonight. How’s about that, eh?" She winked, continuing forward past him and leaving him a crimson mess.

 

"Alright!" She called out to the rest of the group and the assembled patrons of the inn. "We’ve got our team, or party, or whatever fruity name you call it now. We’re gonna head out, get this guy, and come back. And I expect a hero's welcome when we do. Drinks, food, and beds. All on the house!" As the group gathered, all nodding to one another, they prepared to set off. Heydeth turned down, smiling at young Bethwin. "Alright kid. Let’s go find your dad."

 

The crowd in the inn let out a raucous cheer, with people clapping, banging tin cups on their tables, hooting and yelling, and wishes of good luck and Goddess’s speed. Why, it was enough to make the hearts swell in each of them as they prepared to-

 

♪It's been a long road, getting from there to here♪

♪It's been a long time but my time is finally near♪

 

"Is…is that your ringtone?" Liz asked, raising an eyebrow.

 

Mia’s eyes widened as she fumbled, desperate to get her phone out of her jeans pocket.

 

♪And I can feel the change in the wind right now♪

♪Nothing's in my way♪

 

"Not a word of this." She snarled at the bemused group that sat around, all staring at her. She took one look at her screen and gave an annoyed sigh. "Eugh fuck…."

 

♪And they're not gonna hold me down no more♪

♪No, they're not gonna hold me down♪

 

Damien smiled, rocking back and forth in his seat. "What’s wrong? I like it." He beamed.

 

"Shut the fuck up." Mia pointed at him with a finger while her eyes were still cast down at the screen in a scowl. "Great. Of all the times…just what I wanted…"

 

"It’s my skank of a cousin's calling."

 

"Naomi…"

 

♪Cause I've got faith of the heart♪

♪I'm going where my heart will take me♪

♪I've got faith to believe♪

♪I can do anything♪

♪I've got strength of the soul♪

♪And no one's gonna bend or break me♪

♪I can reach any star♪

♪I've got faith♪

♪I've got faith, faith of the heart!♪

[POST-NOTES]
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