Chapter 38

The Elven Quarter border camp was bustling with activity, even early in the morning. Frank watched with a keen eye as he chomped down a protein bar from his pack. He was in view of the camp and recording what he could see from over the walls. He watched goblin guardsmen with intimidating looking swords and primitive bows walk the length of the wall over and over, occasionally stopping to talk to each other or announce the return of a patrol. There were an awful lot of goblins for such a rundown and primitive looking place.

Frank started wondering why the crude battlements and rundown shacks that served as buildings were all around the place and bustling with activity when clearly visible stone structures were built outside of the immediately visible part of the camp and indeed built into parts of the camp walls. At several parts where the roads connected with the camp, there were high stone arches. They had an odd shape, coming up curved and forming a point where the arch was formed. But the arch seemed to have an accent feature that almost looked like a chain of square knots sitting on either side of the archway.

Frank took pictures of the gateways when he was close enough to get a decent shot with his phone camera, and thought the square holes seemed to be slightly chipped, as if something was hammered out of them. Could there have been jewels or some sort of glass inside the accent pieces of the gate at some point? It seemed odd, as if the goblins hadn't always owned this place forever, and as if they weren't fully in control still.

That of course, was Frank's first guess after the system had informed him of where he was.

'Objective Completed: Find an enemy camp

You have arrived at the Elven Quarter border camp.

Reward: 2 attribute points

New Objective: Destabilize goblin control of the Elven Quarter region'

Frank scoffed at his new objective. How was he, a single man, supposed to destabilize the operations of a whole military outpost? What did that even mean, exactly? Kill a few goblins? Assassinate some captains? Cut off their supply line somehow? Or was he just going to have to burn the whole place down?

It was too damn vague, and it didn't even mention a reward this time! While he was thinking of rewards, Frank thought about what he was going to spend his attribute points on. At first, he was thinking of putting two of the four of them into Agility. It couldn't hurt to be faster, especially when he was faced with so many enemies. But then he realized his Perception stat was lower than he'd like without an active source of magic around. Apparently his [Minor Elemental Essence Stone] didn't count towards his enhanced perception bonus, for whatever reason. So he thought about putting at least two points into that, and two more somewhere else.

Initially, he thought the Spirit stat was useless, but after his recent meeting with Granspier, Frank started to think otherwise. He reactivated [Total Invisibility] from the safety of the trees and teleported back to the camp walls as he continued thinking about what had happened while he was asleep last night.

---

He had calmed down after his panic and prayed at Granspier's altar with him. He prayed for his sister to begin forming a core, he wanted to contact her in a dream the same way the system kept doing for him. He eventually settled into a trance, and began to see Lauren come into view in his mind's eye, but he couldn't reach out to her despite his best efforts. She was like a dim silhouette that barely resembled her features. However with more effort, he found a bright spot of light close by her head, under her pillow. It was the knife he enchanted for her, Saving Grace.

The knife immediately began to speak to him in his mind, almost like [Limited Telepathy] but clearer and without the need for him to ask it for a connection. The knife knew him, it accepted his presence easily. The more shocking part to Frank was what came after. In his mind he saw an eye mask, like the sort someone would wear to a masquerade. It was gold and that deep violet purple that almost seemed black just like the blade of the knife, lined with the same type of flower as on Saving Grace's handle. The mask began to speak when it became clear in his mind.

"Frank, I feel your presence. What would you ask of this humble servant?" It spoke with the voice of a woman, but held the low growl of a big cat somewhere underneath the words it spoke. Frank had no idea what that was all about, but speaking to a knife from a world away was also a new experience for him so he just went along with it.

"I need you to pass on a message to Lauren. Tell her to start forming a core. There is danger already on Earth from magic in the air. So she needs to get stronger, our whole family does, as well as anybody who will listen. Tell her she needs to tell people to start forming spiritual cores, there will be guides on the forum specifically for Awakened. But tell her normal people need to start trying for it, too."

"I understand. We have read many such posts together. I shall instruct her using the information we found, that she did not consciously retain."

"Why are you talking like that? It sounds so robotic. And what's up with the weird growling?"

"It is the nature of my being. If you wish, I can speak differently"

"Yes, please do that. And thank you!" Frank cut the connection and found himself back in the dojo with Granspier, a new sense of peace and a new understanding of the universe forming within him. He really felt the experience genuinely happened, that he hadn't imagined it.

---

Back in the present, Frank's sense of peace was completely dashed to pieces. He saw a bird circling above the camp, it had a long and colorful tail that it displayed proudly as it glided in ever smaller circles around the camp. Frank immediately put two points into Perception and another two into Spirit as thanks to the universe for connecting him to his sister's knife. He wasn't sure what the gesture was good for, nor what two points would do for him, but it felt right.

Frank's eyes had an easier time following the bird around the camp, and he realized the colorful thing wasn't just some curious scavenger or carrion bird. It had some sort of scroll on its leg in a small leather tube. It was a messenger bird of some kind. Just as Frank had identified its purpose, it gave a loud screeching cry and made a dive for a group of large tents farther away in the back end of the camp. 

The goblins seemed to have noticed its arrival and pointed it out. Frank decided to make a series of short teleports and nimble jumps atop buildings to get further into the camp. He was putting his newfound agility to good use quicker than he had expected. A part of him was still in disbelief that he could even pull off such feats of balance and acrobatics, but his brief crash course in gymnastics from the internet seemed to be paying off. Now he didn't have to rely entirely on his [teleport] skill to get around. If he put more points into Strength and Agility he could only imagine where else he could go and what other superhuman feats he could pull off with time. 

Wandering around and observing the goblins going about their daily routine quickly changed as a group of true goblins with funny looking hats each bearing a long multicolored feather began sprinting out of the area with the big, luxurious tents. Frank followed one at a leisurely pace, who got up on a high stage which Frank quickly identified as gallows. The large column going over the top of the platform and the sun bleached skulls piled along one side gave it away.

Was someone going to be executed? What crimes got a goblin death by hanging as opposed to decapitation? Frank noted that there didn't seem to be any fresh heads stinking up the gallows. Was this a health effort on the part of leadership, or the result of the camp being on their best behavior?

Before long a small crowd had gathered, and an even bigger one came together when a rather short goblin with a limp staggered on stage and began beating a drum. After a few minutes of this, the goblin held up a hand and began to unseal the scroll he was carrying. He read whatever was on the scroll aloud, though Frank didn't have the faintest clue what he was saying. But he caught the word Jaykra, and had a feeling that whatever news this guy was announcing came from higher up.

The goblins Frank had fought last night mentioned a Lord Jaykra a couple times. He would have thought he was in charge of this camp, but Likra had helpfully mentioned that it was one Commander Bostrik. It was safe to assume Bostrik is an orc, and Frank wasn't going to play fast and loose with the unknown element of orcs. If they're the brains behind the invasion, he didn't want to find himself caught between something big, mean, and ready to call upon an army of devoted goblins without either an escape route or a distraction. Up to this point, he had literally only dreamt of orcs, every other alien contact he'd had was a goblin. 

After the goblin finished his announcement, the drums were beat once more and everyone in the crowd went away in a sudden hurry, chattering amongst each other to discuss the news. Was Jaykra himself coming to oversee this event? Or perhaps he was travelling to this camp? If Likra's painfully vibrant memories were any indication, he might very well be coming to execute the local heretics with a sick spectacle. Flash fried, Salem style.

---

Frank followed the goblin who served as a herald to see if he would show Frank any important buildings. What he showed Frank instead was a rather large, poorly put together communal living space where the lowborn goblins, the ones who the system referred to as true goblins, lived in squalor. The herald lost his air of authority after the announcement was made, and the drums from other parts of the camp sounded as the other messengers did likewise. Now, it seemed, he was just another servant with slightly better clothing. He shuffled back to this place, watching over his shoulder all the way. Frank followed from the cover of rooftops and then behind walls and the little makeshift structures the goblins were allowed within this place.

Frank paused his pursuit only to refresh the duration of [total invisibility], but he didn't have to go too far. At the top of a flight of stairs and inside a room that was made of solid stone, the herald knocked on what may very well have been the only proper door in the whole place, every other cubby or tent seemed to have a flap of cloth to give them privacy. Frank leaned against the glass window of the door, keeping his mouth and nose covered so he wouldn't steam it up. He wasn't sure what he expected to hear, but it was worth a try anyway.

---

Brotlaavi was concentrating, a small, delicately manicured blue plant sat before him on his table. It flowered just yesterday, a most beautiful mixture of red, yellow, and orange. The plant was called Bellows Hyssop, and seeing it flower in the colors of fire rather than its normal red was an omen. He heard the drumming, the squawk of the crier bird before that, and the rumor that a patrol had been sent to investigate a portal opening in the old market. Brotlaavi feared the old tales were true. They stated that when the Bellows Hyssop tasted the ash of war on the wind, it would answer with the colors of flame to signal the call to battle.

Brotlaavi's prayers to Sanavrona seemed to go unheard, war was coming, with his people caught in the middle of it.

A knocking shook him from his grief, he sighed and stood straight, collecting himself. He already knew who it was, and was expecting his arrival.

"Come, Mokki" He answered with his back to the door. When the door was closed, the young herald came to stand beside the old elven desk. Even without looking at him, Brotlaavi knew the young man's eyes were glued to the striking petals of the plant on the desk. When he finally turned to address the young man, it was no longer with the bent back of a humble old man laying low his eyes to the ground in prayer. It was with the straight back of a man who had worked hard to carry the burdens of a community of slaves in a world that no longer resembled the splendor of tales told in hushed voices around the stew pot. He ran a hand through his gray, well kept beard and tightened the grip on his cane, as if bracing for bad news.

"I hope the day finds you well, Peace Speaker" the young, fresh faced goblin said, his mask of formality still clear in his manner.

"As well as one can expect, dear boy. Come, what news do you bring me?"

"In short summary, Lord Jaykra sends word that he has departed his manor and is making way to the border camp to see for himself the returning heroes bearing news of victory in battle against the unclean humans. Commander Bostrik has ordered all forces and servants to make ready for his arrival." The sudden droop in Mokki's ears was enough of a clue that the boy wasn't looking forward to such duties. The boy pressed the large button holding the feather to the front of his cap, then handed it to the older goblin, who put it inside a drawer in his desk.

Brotlaavi collapsed into his chair and let loose a long sigh.

"Oh Sanavrona, why do we have so many demons and trials plaguing our path? If it is not one thing, it is another!"

Mokki's ears were now fully drooped, almost pointing to the floor to match his pitiful expression.

"Peace Speaker Brotlaavi, what do we do? It is one thing to hide the women from the orc captains, but if we try to hide them from Lord Jaykra he will... he will..."

"Yes, yes he will torture the information out of us and then cut deeply every one of our women that he does not take for himself. I remember the last time it happened, dear boy. I will never forget it." The old goblin shook his head as if to ward off painful memories, "We will have the women of child bearing age draw lots for it. The ones who pick the marked stick will be sent to serve Lord Jaykra and the orc captains. Have the healers prepare a numbing pill for every woman that draws a mark. I will see to it they are paid double the asking price if they prepare something to numb pain and to make dull the mind."

The pair sat in silence for a few moments, praying for the women whose misfortune it would be to entertain the captains. The silence was broken by Mokki, who spoke up again.

"I have heard the patrol that was sent to check on the old market are past due to report back. They would have sent a messenger ahead if they had news of victory or had captured prisoners."

"Let us hope they are merely late and haunted by the dawn pains of foreign wine and spirits."

"If they do not return?"

"We may be in for another inspection tonight." Brotlaavi stated this as plainly as if he were telling the time of day. Mokki paled, remembering when his mother had been taken in a surprise inspection a month past.

Nobody was sure what happened to the servants taken by the corrupted goblins, only that they were never seen again. Some people claimed they were butchered for unholy rites, others preferred to think they were merely transferred to another camp or fief. Brotlaavi was once offered knowledge of where the men and women taken in these raids were sent. The peace speaker wasn't strong enough to accept the knowledge when gob-captain Gahnol offered it, though his wide, toothy grin was enough clue that it was nowhere good.

"Do... do you think they will take my sister, Peace Speaker?"

The old goblin turned his head from the young herald. He couldn't look him in the eye as he answered him.

"I do not know, boy. Pray for her safety, tell them she died in childbirth if the corrupted come. Will that be all, Mokki?"

"Yes sir, thank you sir."

"A moment before you leave!" The old goblin held out a hand to stop Mokki, who was already getting up to leave without his hat. Brotlaavi pulled a small silver coin with a triangular hole through the center from a pouch on his belt. He handed it to the boy, alongside a petal plucked from the bellows hyssop. "Buy some good wine tonight for your family. And keep this petal in your pocket. It might not be the right color, but it may just help ward off fear in your home tonight."

"I thought hyssop colored like fire meant a call to war?"

"Too observant for your own good, lad. But wine colored petals from bellows hyssop are a wish of good luck and high spirits, and that is the color this plant normally holds, thus I give it to you in the spirit of such wishes. Now, have your hat and be off with you. Deliver your messages before you deliver home your wine!" He playfully jabbed the handle of his cane at the young boy after he once again donned his hat.

When the boy had left, Brotlaavi once again let his eyes rest wistfully on the flame colored plant beside him, a silent prayer passed his thoughts.

'Sanavrona, please deliver our people from the clutches of the lord of blood! Please send them to safety in your fields that they may bask in your...' He stopped himself and sighed once more. He then thought the prayer he really wished for 'Sanavrona, please send forth your fury and anger to those vile beasts wearing the skin of our kind!'

Brotlaavi's answer to his prayers came swiftly, with a blade pressed against his throat and a sudden pain throbbing between his ears