The Cave Part 24

"Bjardon is the name! Pleased to meet you!" the orc thundered, a naturally gregarious personality I saw at once. With one swift movement, he had pulled back a chair next to him, and urged me to take a seat. A brief glance led me to believe he was a merchant by profession, well tailored traveling clothes suggested enough money to be comfortable. In my past life, I would have considered him briefly as a target for theft. However, just as quickly I would have decided against it, for he was at least seven feet tall and towered over me when he rose up from his seat to give a courtly bow.

"Cairandawyn," said I, shaking the proffered hand. His grip was very strong, and my arm was jarred by his vigorous greeting. I was relieved to get my hand back and sit down.

"Bjardon the Bold, they calls him," piped up Glip, clearly well acquainted. The cheerful orc was careful to greet his smaller cousin with less physical exuberance, just a rapid gentle fist bump. "He sails the great seas with a crew of fierce cutthroats!"

"You are a pirate?" I asked, startled by this revelation and fixing Bjardon with a more critical look. "And so far inland at that."

"Nah, not really a pirate," scoffed the orc, resuming his seat and signaling the bar keeper for another round of the ale he was drinking, a pale aromatic brew that smelled quite good. It had been a long time since I had an ale. Well before leaving on the adventure into the mountains that started everything else.

"We are merchants that never fear a conflict on the waves! Rather the dogs flee when they get a squint at my flag and crew!"

"Sounds like the ship I would like to travel on if I ever had to cross the water," said I, trying to be polite, while at the same time realizing just how hungry I was. The bar keeper had run over with a tankard for my new acquaintance, and cast me an apprising look as if to say, what will you have?

"Hey Kalip," said Glip to the other goblin. "This be the fighter Elder Mona foresaw! Can ya bring us dinner fit for a warrior?"

"Yah yah, and ya want the same?" The dower face on the bartender was a little mysterious to me, but I guessed he was just a little more reserved than some of the others. Probably run off his feet as well. The inn was busier than I had first thought coming in the door.

Dinner turned out to be some well loaded platters of roasted vegetables, with freshly baked bread and high tankards of the pale ale to wash it all down. I was a little shocked and disappointed not to see any form of meat on the board. Somehow this did not seem to be warrior food. I guessed that goblins had a different idea of what was needed for conflict. Seeing my expression, Bjardon threw back his head and bawled out an uproarious laugh.

"This is an appetizer lad!" said he with a meaty slap on my back that knocked the wind out of me. "Eat up and then they'll bring the main course!"

I tried to tuck in like my companions, secretly hoping that Bjardon would not be sleeping in the room next to mine. If the orc snored anything like the volume of his speech, I would not be getting any rest tonight. Glip on my left only seemed to be encouraged to feats of valor at the table by the merchant, devouring his food with a will that surprised me. Clearly the goblin hunter burned a lot of calories when he was out stalking prey. They way he ate, he should have been a lot bigger around the middle than he was.

"So, you are here to fight this thing in the caves are ye?" asked Bjardon, in a slightly more serious and less earth shaking volume. He leaned in a little closer in a conspiratorial nature. "I hear among the folks here that its something ye don't want to meet in a dark alley. Are ye good at fighting such things?"

"I'm going to be honest and confess I have never taken on a fight like this in my life," I replied in a low voice as well. "I fear these good folk have way too much faith in me."

"What is your weapon of choice lad? Ye a magic user? I see your sword sticking out there like a sore thumb. Proficient with that too?"

"That's just it," I replied with a little too much tremor in my voice. "I only really know some basic cantrips and beginner healing spells. The total of my study has been a few months at most, and I have never used these in combat. As to my sword, I just received this weapon today. Proficiency with the dagger is the only thing I can boast of, and that does not sound like the right way to handle this creature."

"Well sink my ship and pay the crew anyway! What are ye doing then walking into this here death trap?" asked Bjardon with rounded eyes, looking me over as if I was already a goner.

"That is a very good question," I replied, casting a look over at Glip and hoping I had not just shattered his good opinion of me. He did not seem too worried, which was even more concerning in itself.

"It has been foretold ya will defeat the creature," said the goblin by way of encouragement. "Believe in the prophecy."

"But it was a dream, Glip," I sighed in exasperation. "Not a prophecy."

"Ya will see it all works out," my new friend replied with a knowing smile. Clearly he had not a doubt in his mind, though I had just reveled my complete lack of preparation for the fight.

"Well, let us eat and wish ye the best of luck lad!" boomed Bjardon, clapping his hands as the bar keeper struggled to bring a huge side of sizzling boar to our table. It turned out that the orc had known full well there would be meat. He had delivered the whole boar to the village himself, having brought down the beast en route to Dropdrip. The savvy merchant had added the boar to his stock of goods for sale as any practical person might, and walked away with a good price.

"I purchase the medicinal products here and bring them back to Vinesburg on my return trip. We sail within a few weeks after filling our hold."

"How long have you have been a merchant or trader?" I asked.

"Most of my life, lad! Always looking for that great bargain. The sale to top them all! Alas, it still eludes me."

Our conversation consisted of some very impressive tales from Bjardon, who had apparently traveled quite far in his quest to see new things and open market opportunities overlooked by others. If all could be believed, he had amassed a considerable fortune and might have retired many years ago, but it was the adventure and pursuit of something amazing that kept him in the game, to quote his own phrase. It was a game he enjoyed playing very much, with high stakes and dangers everywhere.

After dinner, I gave my good nights to both Bjardon and Glip, finding my quarters at the inn sparse, but comfortable. The mattress was soft, and stuffed with feathers. From the hunted fowl in the mountains I guessed. It was good to be alone finally and to hear my own thoughts. Having lived with Tharkin alone had not prepared me for the sudden onslaught of company I found in the goblin village.

"Now how does this work?" I asked aloud, thinking of Tharkin and wondering how to contact him by the ring. "Does it require words?" I stared at the two silver dragons that intertwined around my finger to form the ring, holding the deep red stone. How did I activate it?