I have had a standing appointment nearly every Wednesday for almost 2 years now. It is with a group of adventurers travelling a world in order to save it from those that wish to destroy the innocent and bring forth evil. When people come together to play D&D, anything is possible.
We recently came to the end of a story arc the DM had composed for us. Without access to his notes, I like to believe we loosely followed his plan and veered away from it only when it was most inconvenient to do so.
During a brief interlude, I thought about my character and what he might do after beating the big boss and before taking on any more challenges. In his younger days Cordon Lindenbrook had seen his mother killed by hobgoblin forces. He was unable to help her so he retreated into the shadows physically and emotionally. So now he returns to a land controlled by his enemies to complete a chore he gave himself.
Before leaving the embattled capitol city of Springhill, he wandered around town until he found a small craftsman that could make a fancier version of his nation's ancient artifact. Cordon describes the belt as he wants it made instead of showing the Belt of Strength to the shopkeeper. He asks for a few additions to the design to draw a wandering eye more quickly. The edge will have silver thread wrapped around it. The buckle will have a circuit of gold thread surrounding it. Instead of an onyx, Cordon commissions a hunk of obsidian to be embedded in the material.
Cordon travels back to the village where he and his mother lived. He uses happy memories to hide the dread he feels. The last time he was here was the night his mother was slain by the hobgoblins. All that is left is demolished forests and destroyed homes covered in weeds. Deep in his former homeland, Cordon is aware of the presence of those watching him. This is no longer a Halfling nation. It is now a wasteland that belongs to the hobgoblin tribes. Cordon isn't sure exactly why he isn't being harassed by the interlopers, but he likes to think his confidence and sure stride is the source of their reluctance.
Upon reaching the outskirts of his former home village, Cordon finds the place he piled some of the larger stones from the bed of a nearby stream. He had run to escape the advance hobgoblin forces after his mother was killed but before they finished torturing her body. Her screams still echo in his mind to this day, more than 30 years after it happened.
Cordon had piled the stones as a marker of where he wished he had been able to bury his mother's remains. A clear spot where the babbling of the stream can be heard and is lightly shaded by leaves high in the trees. He kneels before them and closes his eyes. Over the sighs of the wind weaving through the foliage overhead and the soft twittering of birds in the distance, Cordon imagines hearing her laugh one more time. Before the tears forming in the corner of his eye can become large enough to fall, Cordon places his pack on the ground and extracts a simple box and a shovel. He uses the shovel to dig a hole slightly wider than the box and about two feet deeper than the box is tall.
Cordon picks up the box, his pack, and the shovel, and steps over to a nearby tree. He sits down and catches his breath for a moment. Two apples and a stale slice of bread find their way out of the pack and into the hungry worker. Once Cordon is relaxed, and aware of every set of eyes watching him, he opens the box to reveal it is empty. From his pack, the Halfling pulls out a belt that looks like it has been drawn directly from legends and tales instead of a worn traveler's pack.
With more reverence than an item from a common shop should be given, Cordon carefully folds the belt. The light flickering through the leaves above flashes off the threads of gold and silver embedded in the belt's material. As Cordon lifts the folded belt into the box, the light seems to be completely absorbed by the black stone on top of the folded fabric. The entire forest seems to hold its breath as the belt is lowered into the box and the lid is replaced.
Like a cleric taking an offering to an altar, Cordon carries the box to the hole he had dug. He lowers the box into the ground and uses his hands to shove the dirt over the hole. He carefully spreads the loosened soil around to disguise the former hole. Careful placement of some foliage from nearby camouflages the signs of his work.
The sun gets closer to the horizon and Cordon steps into the growing shadows of the forest. He knows the hidden figures that had been watching him are now more interested in what he has left behind. This is exactly what he had hoped for.
Using the skills he had developed during his recent adventures, Cordon vanishes into the undergrowth. Blended in with the darkness, he watches the area around the piled rocks carefully. An arrow is knocked and he is ready to draw the bow's string in less than a heartbeat if anything moves towards the box he buried.
The sun finally sets and the area grows completely dark. Unable to see anything in the darkness, Cordon stealthily backs away and begins his return journey to Springhill. When he feels like he is safe from any pending attacks, Cordon opens up his cloak. His hand brushes the onyx stone on the belt he wears as he checks the placement of the ancient dagger clipped to the belt.
Cordon knows he will never have a home or family as most people know it. On the other hand, he did have some fun adventures with some recent companions. More chances to kill hobgoblins and gain a little coin will always be welcome. While Cordon has vowed to never become emotionally attached to anyone again, he is aware of the value of his companions and their skills. There is an old adage about new friends, old friends, silver, and gold. Cordon can't remember the exact wording but wants to experience more of the world and collect as much of each of them as he can.
I will admit, some of the details of this story will only be known to the Darling Brothers Entertainment Extravaganza and Friends. Still, I am hoping this is the first of many tales of their adventures, either alone or together.
