Forged

D&D campaign told as a story. One character’s war on emotion and his family that is trying to bring him back to himself.

Forge had fallen.

The goliath barbarian, raised by human parents, champion of the weak and down-trodden, was killed in battle.

He died protecting his friends, his party members, his husbands, and his son.

He was kind, empathetic, wise, caring, and remarkably gentle. He was also unendingly passionate. It was what drew so many to him and from where he drew his endless reserves of strength.

It was his passion that drove him to tirelessly stand up for the oppressed. He traveled the whole of the Sword Coast and places beyond to stand against tyranny. He had saved more people than most of us can count and the bards sing his praises, much to his chagrin. He never did anything for recognition, or accolades. He did it because it was right.

His passion fueled his rage. His righteous fury. It had saved him, his allies, and so many others countless times.

It was also, ultimately, his downfall.

Emotions. They are the bane of sentience. They cloud judgment and obscure logic.

I will rid this plane of emotion and, in so doing, bring the peace Forge had always hoped for. That all of my fathers had hoped and fought for.

Forge had fallen. But he will not have fallen in vain. This is my Oath of Conquest.

Flick frantically scanned the crowd at his husband’s funeral. He found who he was looking for and hurried over to a fire genasi and a mountain dwarf who were talking to a goliath that Flick had seen before once or twice with his two friends, but couldn’t remember his name. The three turned and smiled sadly at the rock gnome’s approach. Their expressions quickly changed when they saw the look on his face.

“Flick, what’s wrong?” Thyrna, the genasi, asked.

“It’s Goose.” Flick said hurriedly. He cast a quick glance at the goliath, then back to his friends.

“I’ll leave you guys to it.” The goliath said, turning to leave.

Nazar, the Dwarf, looked up to the goliath. “Thank you, Maldrus. We’ll catch up with you later.”

Before Maldrus walked away, he looked back at Flick. “I know you don’t really know me, but Goose and I served together. He’s like a brother to me. If there is anything I can do to help him, I’ll do it.”

Maldrus took a glass from a passing tray, raised it to the group and left them to their business. Thyrna and Nazar turned back to Flick. “What’s wrong with Goose? Where is he?”

The gnome spread his hands. “I don’t know! After they lowered Forge into the ground, he just… left. I tried stopping him, but his eyes were red, which is crazy because I didn’t program his eyes to be able to even flash that color!”

“Well, he had been taking Forge’s passing especially hard.” Nazar offered, helpfully.

“I know that. It’s hit him harder than any of us.” Flick was absently assembling and disassembling a music box. His fidgeting let his friends know just how anxious he was. “But…”

At that moment Mak, a variant aasimar, approached the group. He put an arm around his husband, Flick, and smiled weakly at his friends. “Have you told them about Goose?” Flick nodded. “I tried following him, but lost him almost immediately. I did find this, though.” Mak held out his arm. He was holding Goose’s cleric robes and the marks of his status in the temple of Helm.

They shared looks of disbelief. Until this moment, none of them believed that anything would warrant Goose leaving his robes behind. As a life cleric in the temple of Helm, Goose rose in the ranks rapidly, finding his purpose as a member of the cloth. Much to the delight of all three of his fathers, especially Mak who was a tempest cleric of Talos.

Nazar put reassuring hands on Thyrna’s and Mak’s shoulders and made eye contact with each of his friends. “Goose probably just needs some time. I’m sure he’ll come back.”

Two months later, Nazar was in his study, when a knock at his door drug his attention away from his tomes. He opened the door to find Goose standing there. He was still not wearing his cleric robes, but he had taken to carrying Forge’s old morningstar on a belt he wore across his chest like a bandolier. “It’s good to see you nephew! Please, come in!”

“I am sorry for calling so late, Uncle.”

Nazar waved Goose’s apology away. “Nonsense, you know I keep late hours. Besides, I will always have time for my favorite nephew!” Nazar drew a large pillow from a corner, fluffed it and placed it in the center of the room. “Please, sit. I know my ceilings are a little low for you.”

“You have always been very kind to me, Uncle, thank you.” The warforged sat on the cushion, legs crossed and waited for his uncle to sit in a fine leather chair beside him.

“What brings you to my humble abode, nephew?”

“The libraries I have been to… their collections on governments are ill-suited to my queries. You know as well as any that human history is written by the victors and that their governments get final say as to what is published about them.” Nazar nodded sagely in agreement. “Elvish history only recalls their triumphs and is riddled with racism.” Nazar nodded again. “Orcish history is…” Goose held up his hands, making air quotes, “...unreliable.” Goose continued, “Gnomish history is exquisitely detailed, but is only concerned with itself and not very informative about its governments.” I have tried speaking to Mak about celestial governments, but he was unhelpful. I am unsure whether it was because of a lack of understanding, or lack of desire to talk about the subject.”

“Knowing your father, it could be a combination of both.” Nazar smiled and poured himself a glass of brandy. It was Goose’s turn to nod in agreement. Nazar returned to his seat and regarded his nephew. “Why the sudden interest in governments, nephew? I never would have guessed politics would be what would take you away from the temple.”

Goose’s eyes dimmed. “Just… looking for patterns.”

“What sort of patterns?”

“At this rate, I am unsure I will ever be able to find what I am looking for, Uncle.” Goose’s eyes resumed their usual level of brightness. “I cannot let it all be for nothing, so I must keep looking.”

Nazar lowered his head in understanding. “I see. He was the best of us, I have often said. Not that he would ever hear it, of course!”

“Of course.”

“I am afraid that my library is a little light on dwarven governmental lore, but you are welcome to all the knowledge I have on the subject. I hope you find what you are looking for, nephew.” Nazar returned to his desk. “Have you visited your auntie yet?”

“TeeTee Thyrna is my next stop, Uncle.”

“Good! She will be glad to see you!” Nazar reopened the tome on his desk. “Do not hesitate to ask if you have questions, nephew.”

“I won’t, Uncle. Thank you.”

Several months later, Goose arrived on his aunt’s land. As he made his way to his aunt’s cabin, he saw Maldrus felling a tree. Goose approached the goliath.

“Hello Maldrus.”

The goliath turned around. “Mother Goose! How in the hells are you? I haven’t seen you since… well, it’s good to see you! Thyrna should be back soon, she went out a couple hours ago to do…” he waved erratically in the general direction of the surrounding forest, “…whatever it is that she does.”

“I have been and I have seen, my friend.” Goose noted the scars on the goliath’s arms and on his chest. “Have you been injured?”

Maldrus followed Goose’s gaze and laughed. “These? No, I did these to myself!”

Goose stared at his friend. The lights of his eyes blinked off and on again slowly. It was how he conveyed curiosity. “Why would you do that to yourself?”

“It’s my Path. They help me to control it.”

“It?”

“The demon, of course!”

Goose’s eyes blinked off and on again.

“Your dad’s Path was wild magic, right? Well, mine is demon. It’s how we channel our rage.”

“You have a demonic rage?”

“No, no… Path of the Demon. I carved these runes in my skin so I can summon a demon possession, but still maintain control. I get the benefits of being a demon without actually becoming one, or being taken over by one.”

“That sounds incredibly dangerous.”

Maldrus laughed a great, booming laugh. “It is. My demon hates it!”

“Are you not concerned? What happens if the runes fail?”

Maldrus shrugged his massive shoulders. “They haven’t so far!”

Before Goose could retort, he was tackled to the ground by his aunt.

“OHMYGODSICAN’TBELIEVEYOU’REHEREI’MSOEXCITEDIMISSEDYOUSOMUCH!!!!!”

“Hello TeeTee Thyrna!” Goose managed.

“I got Nazar’s message that you had been to visit him! He said that you were supposed to be coming to see me, and now you’re here!”

“Did Uncle tell you what the nature of my visit was?”

“Nope! I’m just glad you came to see me. It’s been too long!”

Maldrus was able to stop laughing long enough to help the two up, then had to sit down on a stump to keep from falling over himself from his uncontrollable laughter.

Goose filled his aunt in on his queries and his frustratingly limited progress so far.

“Baby, I hate to tell you, but genasi are nomads. We’re not exactly big on ‘government’.”

“I know…”

“What, exactly, are you looking for, Goosie?”

“I am reluctant to say what I am looking for outside of patterns. As I told Uncle, I am unsure I will even be able to find anything of use.” The lights in Goose’s eyes flashed red, then back to their normal soft yellow. “I cannot allow it to be for nothing, Auntie. I simply can’t.”

Thyrna was taken aback by the sudden flash in her nephew’s eyes. She remembered Flick saying that Goose’s eyes were red as he left Forge’s funeral, but had never seen them do that herself. “Don’t look at me in that tone of red, young man!”

Goose dimmed his eyes, embarrassed.

“You know, if you keep obsessively looking for patterns, you’re eventually gonna see them everywhere. Even if there isn’t one. It’s a fast track to paranoia and insanity.”

Goose threw up his hands in frustration. “That is what is so frustrating, TeeTee… there aren’t *any* patterns.” He dropped his hands and lowered his head dejectedly. “None that are of any use, anyway.”

Thyrna placed a comforting hand on the warforged’s shoulder. “In the best circumstances, governments are chaos, Goosie.”

“That is what I am most afraid of, Auntie.” He was quiet for a long moment, then his eyes brightened and looked at his Aunt. “Are my cousins around?”

“Yeah, hold on.” The fire genasi let out a loud, sharp whistle and moments later, a very old giant ice toad came hopping towards them from the woods on the edge of the clearing followed by a juvenile white dragon.

Goose excitedly greeted his cousins and rolled around with the two of them, playing. Goose was free for the first time in months, the immense weight he had saddled himself with upon his father’s demise had been lifted, if only just for the moment. Thyrna and Maldrus watched and laughed as the three played.

Maldrus leaned down to whisper to Thyrna, “How is he holding up?”

“Not bad for an old frog!”

“Goose, Thyrna.” Maldrus said, patiently. “How is Goose holding up? No one has really seen him since Forge’s funeral.”

“Not great. He’s got a boulder on his shoulders, and a goliath-shaped hole in his heart.” Thyrna sighed, heavily. “He’s looking for information on governments. Says he’s looking for patterns.”

“Doesn’t seem like he’s having much luck.”

Thyrna sighed heavily. “He isn’t.”

Goose played with his cousins for a while, until Señor Croaker had to stop and rest in the sun. Goose continued to wrestle with Tatsuya, the juvenile white dragon, until well-passed sundown and Maldrus had retired to his cabin for the evening. Goose joined his aunt on the front porch of her cabin, taking in the scenery.

“Auntie, may I ask you something?”

“Of course, Goosie! What’s on your mind?”

“You’ve been traveling with Maldrus for a while now. Thank you for taking him on, again. How is he faring?”

“He’s great in a scrap. Smarter than your average barbarian. He’s a valuable member of our little team.”

“What do you think of his Path?”

“His Path is his own. His may be a little more risky than others, but it’s his Path to walk. How he chooses to pave it is his choice. Why do you ask?”

“The more I see of this world, the more dangerous emotions seem to be. Barbarians, Like Maldrus, like my father… their Path depends upon it. Mixing emotions and demons?” Goose’s eyes blink in a strobe, “Seems catastrophically dangerous at best!” Goose turned to look as Señor Croaker and Tatsuya slipped back into the woods from the clearing, then back to his Aunt. “How does he handle it?”

“All of our lives depend on emotion, Goosie. Fear lets us know when to be careful. Joy lets us know we are doing the right things. Loss makes us appreciate the people and things we still have. There are tons of emotions and examples.” Thyrna bowed her head in acknowledgement of Goose’s concerns. “Emotions can be dangerous for some, but they are beautiful to most. It would be an empty and dreary world without them.” Thyrna reached out and rubbed the top of her nephew’s head, like she had so many times before. “As far as Maldrus is concerned… I didn’t really understand what was happening, but then again the first time I saw your father create a wild magic surge, I was just as surprised! I knew Maldrus was carving the runes into his skin, obviously. He would go off from the campfire for an hour or so and come back and his shirt would be bloody. Eventually, I guess he just got comfortable enough to do it right at the fire. It freaked me out to watch him do it, of course, but then I thought about what it was like to be me from someone else’s point of view for a moment.” Goose looked at his Aunt, his eyes blinked off and on again. “For most beings, me just being a fire genasi is wild enough. I literally set myself ablaze to start the fire Maldrus was carving himself at. I figured my apprehension was just the pot calling the kettle black.”

“I suppose, logically, that makes sense.” Goose mused. “Thank you, Auntie. I am sorry I do not visit more often.”

Thyrna resumed rubbing the top of her nephew’s head. “It’s okay, kiddo. I haven’t really been around much lately, either. Señor Croaker tells me all about myself every time I come back, the crotchety old b*****d!”

Goose stopped by Maldrus’ cabin before resuming his journey the next morning. Maldrus explained what passes for governments in the tribes of the goliaths, which was basically that the best goliath made the rules. The rest either followed or challenged the leader. If they won, then they would be the one in charge. If they lost, they would either concede, or leave the tribe.

“Watch out for my Aunt and Uncle, my friend. I could not take it if anything happened to them, too.”

“You could always travel with us, you know.” Maldrus said with a smile. “It would be awesome to have Mother Goose covering my six, again!”

“Perhaps some day, my friend. I still have many things I need to do before I can go on another adventure. Though, I suppose I am already on an adventure. One that I need to go alone. For now, at least. I look forward to when our paths cross again.”

***

It had been a year of tireless research and frustration for Goose. Nothing he found in the tomes of time was even remotely useful and he was beginning to doubt whether he would ever be able to make Forge’s death mean something in its wake. With nowhere left to go, Goose began wandering, lost. He found himself at the steps of his old temple. He thought, perhaps in desperation, that maybe this was a trial from Helm. He would seek counsel from the Circle. Would they welcome him back? Would they understand what he was doing? Would they help? Or, would they turn him away, just as he had turned his back on them a year ago?

As he entered the temple, he saw a young half-orc wearing the robes of an initiate. They were tending to the main altar.

“Brother Bumur?” Goose asked.

The half-orc turned and his face lit up. “Brother Goose! Praise Helm!” The half-orc hurriedly finished what he was doing and rushed over to the warforged. “It is so good to see you! How are you?”

Goose lowered his head. “I have not been well. I have been on a journey for the last year. It has not…” Goose waved his hands slowly, “... gone well.”

“Are you in need of repairs?”


The lights in Goose’s eyes softened, an indication of appreciation. “No, Bumur, thank you. I find myself in need of counsel. Is the Circle still in session?”

Bumur lowered his head. “I am sorry to say, but the temple has had a rather rough year. The Circle has been disbanded. Father Bavin is in charge of the temple now.”

Goose’s eyes flashed off, then on again. “Father Bavin?”

“He is an aasimar. He came to the temple days after you left.” The half-orc hesitated. “He has enacted… much change since you have been gone.”

“I see.” Goose said patiently. “How do I gain an audience with Father Bavin?”

Bumur almost flinched. He looked around as though checking to see whether anyone was listening to their conversation. “Father Bavin… doesn’t see anyone unless he calls them first.”

Goose looked at Bumur for a very long moment. “I may not wear the cloth anymore, but I swear to you that no one will know where the information came from. Where are Father Bavin’s chambers?”

Bumur picked up a broom and began sweeping the spotless floor. “You won’t find him in his chambers at this time of night, Brother Goose.” Bumur spoke in a whisper barely audible over the hiss of the broom sweeping the floor. “He is in the cellars.”

Goose put a reassuring hand on Bumur’s shoulder. “Thank you, Brother Bumur.” Goose pulled a few coins from his pouch and laid them on the altar, then headed down into the cellars.

He wasn’t entirely sure what he would do, or say, to Father Bavin when he found him, but Goose was sure that he was headed for a wholly unpleasant interaction. Goose thanked his father Flick’s insistence on building him with the ability for stealth. He had met many warforged that were built for heavy combat that could be heard yards away just existing, let alone moving around a quiet cellar. After several minutes, Goose was able to hear some scuffling coming from the back of one of the deeper cellars. As he approached, the scuffling and muffled voices became more clear.

A deep, male voice. “You are a sinner. You must be purified.”

A young female voice, pleading. “Please no!”

Some more scuffling, then the female voice shrieked in horror and pain. Goose burst in the room, morningstar in hand, eyes burning red. He saw a young female tiefling chained to a sturdy bed. She was naked and bloody. Goose also saw a naked aasimar attempting to ravage the young tiefling. Running on instinct, Goose charged in and lost himself to the rage building inside of him. The frustration from the last year boiled over, and coupled with the scene laid out before him, Goose lost his temper.

Looking back later, Goose wondered if this was what it was like to be a barbarian. The loss of self control and an unending thirst for blood. Goose was dimly aware of what was going on, but logic and reason had been thrown out and locked in the basement by this overwhelming need to rend and maim. Goose started using the morningstar, but at some point the handle broke and he simply continued with his fists. At some point, Goose realized that the aasimar was no longer fighting back.

Goose eventually came back to his senses. He found himself standing in a pool of blood and viscera, some of which was stuck to his still-clenched fists. He surveyed the room. The aasimar was scattered in pieces across the cellar. Goose was thankful that the tiefling was not further harmed, but she regarded him with sheer terror.

“I am going to release you from your binds. I promise, knowing you have no reason to believe me, that I mean you no harm. I can heal you as well, if you trust me enough to allow me.”

The teifling’s breath was beginning to slow, now that she was coming to the realization that her ordeal was finally over. She nodded slowly and tried to relax.

Goose walked over to the bed and broke the shackles. “Can you stand?”

Tears streamed from the teifling’s eyes. “No.” A hoarse whisper. “I don’t know how long I’ve been down here, but my legs stopped working shortly after he…”

Goose’s eyes burned red again. He shook his head to clear his mind. He reached out to Helm, to every god in the Pantheon, to anyone who would listen and could help. Power surged through him as it had before whenever he would heal someone, but this time it was different. More powerful. It surprised Goose as he had never felt anything like that before. The tiefling gasped as Goose laid hands and began crying, because for the first time in a long time, she could feel her legs again.

Goose looked around the cellar, but was unable to find anything that the girl could wear. “I know you want to get out of here. I will find you clothes and escort you out. Please wait here.”

Goose traveled back to the main room of the temple, thankful for the late hour, so no one would see the mess that he had made and ask any awkward questions. He found Bumur and grabbed him as forcefully as he could, lifting him off the floor and slamming him into the wall so that they were eye-level.

“Did you know?” he demanded.

“Yes!” Bumur groaned.

“And you did nothing?”

“I tried!”

“Did you?”

Bumur raised his hands, and opened his robes, revealing burn scars from the hands of Father Bavin. “I tried. I tried so many times! I asked the others for help, but they were all too afraid to do anything. I’ve been waiting for you to come back, I tried to send you messages, but I guess they were either intercepted, or just never found you.” A tear streaked down his cheek. “I didn’t know what else to do, or who to turn to…”

Goose stared at the half-orc for a long time. His eyes changed from red back to a soft yellow. “Go. Seek out a temple of Lythander. Do not come back to this place. If I find out that you deceived me, you will not live to regret it.” Goose lowered the half-orc gently to the floor and released him.

The half-orc bowed his head to the warforged. “Thank you, Brother Goose. Were you able to save her?”

Goose nodded.

“Gods be praised.” Bumur turned and left the temple.

Goose stalked to the laundry, found some appropriate sized robes and returned to the tiefling. He escorted her to the front door, gave her his coin pouch, and blessed her future journey. Then, he closed and barred the door and set to work. Goose found Bavin’s head, placed it on a spike at the barred front doors and set to burn the temple to the ground in the name of justice. The screams plagued the night as Goose ensured there would be no survivors. Those that did not die in the fire, would know why they were being culled.

As dawn broke, Goose left the ashes of the temple. He was covered in soot and burnt-on viscera. The constabulary circled around him as he descended the stairs of the ruined temple. Goose handed the broken pieces of Forge’s morningstar to the captain, raised his hands, and allowed himself to be taken into custody.

Goose was released later that afternoon, as his story was corroborated by the tiefling and Bumur, on the condition that he never returned to the city. Goose walked to the nearest gnome village, which was a tenday away by horse, to rest and receive repairs.

The gnomes, family of Flick, recognized Goose as one of their own and fussed over him endlessly. The tale of Goose's deed had reached them well before he did and he received a hero’s welcome. Goose did not feel as if the treatment was deserved. He wondered, not for the first time, if this is what Forge felt like after using his rage to resolve conflict.

On his arrival, Goose was stripped of his armor, leaving him just as a skeleton. The gnomes offered to fix the morningstar, but Goose insisted that he be the one to fix it back to what it was. A tenday later, he was sitting in his room, admiring the view from the window, when a quiet knock sounded at the door.

“Please, come in.”

“Hallo Goose! You received a letter from your fathers!” A cheery gnome handed him the envelope with a shy smile.

“Hallo Halbi, thank you.” Goose laid the envelope on the bedside table, along with the other unopened letters he had received since his arrival. “Is there any word on my armor?”

Halbi’s smile dropped slightly. “Unfortunately, we were unable to repair your armor.”

Goose’s eyes flashed off, then on again. “I’m sorry?”

Halbi’s smile returned. “Of course we were! However, we have a new employee in the shop that wanted to do something special for you!”

“I sincerely appreciate the kind and generous offer, but-”

Halbi tutted Goose. “We won’t hear any of that nonsense your fathers used to pull all the time! I swear, you are just like them!” Halbi grabbed Goose by the arm and started tugging. “Come, come!”

Goose sighed, resignedly, and allowed himself to be dragged to the shop. There were dozens of gnomes working on various projects that all stopped when Halbi and Goose entered. They were all smiling, expectantly.

“What-” Goose began.

Halbi cut him off. “I would like to introduce you to our newest employee!”

A young female tiefling stepped out, shyly, from behind a tarp-covered project. Goose noticed that it was the same tiefling from the temple. “It is so good to see you! I am glad you have found a home and a job so quickly!”

“I’m just glad these fine folks were kind enough to take someone like me in!” The tiefling said, blushing slightly. “We were able to fix your armor, but… I felt like you may have needed an upgrade, which your family was happy to oblige!”

Goose noticed the table next to the tarp. Sure enough, his armor was laid out and in pristine condition. “But there was nothing wrong with my armor.”

Halbi tugged on Goose’s arm. “Of course not! It was gnome-made with love!”

“The only problem,” the tiefling began, “is that it isn’t really the armor of a hero.” She then grabbed the tarp and pulled it off with a flourish. Standing in its wake was a new suit of armor that was white with intricate gold filigree engraving. It was the most beautiful suit of armor that Goose had ever seen.

“It’s wonderful…” Goose said, enamored. “I don’t know if I des-”

Halbi slapped Goose on the arm. “You hush! Comfort, here, has been working tirelessly on this armor for you. You have been presented a gift. Are you going to be thankful and take it, or are you going to bring shame on yourself and your family?”

A gnome in the back of the shop grunted, “He’s just like his fathers!”

Halbi pointed excitedly at the gnome, “That’s what I said!”

Comfort giggled, then looked up to Goose. “I used your old armor as a pattern, so it should fit okay. I hope you like it.”

Goose gathered Comfort in his arms and hugged her tight. “I love it!” He set Comfort back down and began putting on his new armor. Halbi sidled next to the smitten tiefling and said with a wink and a smile. “Just like his fathers!”

Goose finished suiting up and turned to the assembled gnomes. “Does it look as good as it feels?”

Halbi looked Goose over critically. “Almost…” she said slowly. “It just needs one more thing.” Halbi hurried over to a corner of the shop and returned with a white hooded cloak with gold edging. Goose put it on and the gathered gnomes politely applauded.

Goose moved about, testing the fit of the new armor. “It’s so light!”

“And twice as durable!” Comfort said with a soft, musical laugh.

“It’s perfect. Thank you!”

Later that evening, Goose was sitting in a garden with Comfort listening to the sounds of the late spring evening and enjoying the warm breeze.

“Can I tell you something?” Comfort asked, sliding closer to Goose.

“Of course.”

“That night…” Comfort began, cautiously, “..when you rescued me… I just wanted to apologize.”

Goose’s eyes blinked off, then on again. “What for?”

“For being afraid of you. I had never seen a warforged before, or a barbarian. I heard a bunch of stories, of course, but nothing that could have prepared me for what I saw you do. Certainly not in that particular moment.”

Goose lowered his head. “I know the stories about my kind. Most of them, unfortunately, are true. Though not the whole story is always told. Not all of my kind are able to achieve true sentience, either by design or through malice. So many are not able to stop themselves in the middle of a fray without a direct order.” Goose raised his eyes to meet Comfort’s. “One of my fathers was a barbarian. I am not, though in the moment it felt like I may have been. I used to be a cleric of the temple of Helm. When my father, the barbarian, was killed I walked away. I do not know what happened to the temple after I left, but when I returned seeking counsel… well, I suppose I did receive counsel, just not the kind that I was hoping for.”

“What kind of counsel were you hoping for?”

Goose shrugged. “When Forge was killed, I was lost. I just couldn’t let his death be for nothing, so I went searching for anything that would help me make sense of it. To make an impactful change in the plane so that nothing like that ever needed to happen again. I was gone for a year and found nothing. I came back to the temple and a rage I had never experienced before took me over. Everything came crashing down all at once. I wondered if that was what it was like for my father, for all barbarians, and it terrified me. True sentience brings the emotional spectrum and it makes those who feel them, potentially, wildly dangerous. Especially those who put themselves in positions of power that go unchecked, like Father Bavin. Lately, I have been looking critically at the data I have collected and it seems as though this plane would be better off free from the shackles of emotions. If sentient beings could live by logic alone, it would bring peace to the plane almost instantaneously. So many problems could be avoided if emotions didn’t cloud our judgment.”

“May I offer some counsel?”

“Please do.”

Comfort gently placed her hand on top of Goose’s and looked as deep as she dared into his eyes. “Emotions can be dangerous, of course, but they can also bring the best out of people! Empathy, compassion, loyalty, friendship… love… all come from emotions. Sentient people need emotions.”

Goose chuckled. “Thank you for your counsel, Comfort. You know, my Aunt said the same thing!”

“She seems like a wise woman.” Comfort said, approvingly.

“She really is.” Goose conceded.

The back door of the main house in the village opened, pulling their attention to it. Five shadows exited the house and headed towards the pair in the garden.

“Good evening, nephew.” Nazar said warmly.

Goose sighed, softly. “Good evening, Uncle.”

“You certainly leave an easy trail to follow, Goosie. I thought I trained you better than that!”

“You did, Auntie. I wasn’t trying to hide.”

“Nice work at the temple, Mother Goose!”

“I am still a little conflicted about that, Maldrus. Thank you all the same.”

“You shouldn’t be, son. If I had known, I would have done the same thing.”

“Bumur said he had tried reaching out for help. Why did none of the other temples come to his aid, Mak?”

“It turns out Father Bavin had an extensive network both in and outside of the temple. Nothing got out that he didn’t want to get out. No one knew.”

“So Bumur wasn’t lying, then?”

“Bumur? Was he a half-orc?” Comfort asked.

“He is, yes.”

“He survived? Thank the gods! He tried to help, he really did. Bavin nearly killed him a dozen times.”

“So, my family tells me that you are the one responsible for my son’s new armor?”

Comfort looked at the gnome and smiled. “I am, yes.”

“Your work is exquisite!”

Comfort blushed deeply. “Thank you so much! I was just trying to show my appreciation for Goose saving me.”

Flick winked at his son, then looked back to the rest of the group. “Friends, we have found Goose, but it seems as though we are interrupting a moment. Come! Let’s go back inside and let these two enjoy the night!”

***

Several years later, Nazar, Maldrus, and Thyrna rolled into the town of Teebeedee, fresh from their latest adventure. They had dispatched a pair of frost giants that were terrorizing some mountain villages along the Sword Coast. As they were looking for a smith to make some repairs, Maldrus couldn’t shake the feeling that something was inherently… ‘wrong’? He couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was, but it was slowly driving him insane.

“Hey guys?” The goliath asked, looking around the street at the passers by. For all intents and purposes, everything seemed to be normal. People were working in stalls and shopping. Mothers and fathers were walking with their children. Birds were perched on rooftops and singing. But something just seemed…off… “Does anything seem strange about this place to y’all?”

Thyrna had been thinking the same thing. There was something different about Teebeedee. Not inherently bad, not necessarily good either. Certainly different, though. Now that Maldrus had mentioned it, Thyrna decided to take a closer look at her surroundings.

Nazar hadn’t really noticed anything amiss with the town until Maldrus had said anything, but once he had, the wizard reached out to the weave to see if there was anything amiss. He closed his eyes and stretched out his mind. All of the background magics that one could reasonably expect to be going on in a town of this size were there, but there were no traces of anything underlying. Malignant or otherwise. Nazar reopened his eyes and took an extra careful look around, but could not find anything worth noting.

Thyrna centered herself and looked about critically. All of the trappings of town life were there. As she looked deeper and listened harder, she began to notice that the usual noises of a town this size were missing. There was no haggling at the stalls, there was no music being played, no arguing from the locals and other adventurers, no cries of joy or screams of anguish, not that anyone would want to hear those things, but in a larger town, they always seem to be just on the edge of hearing. But not here. Even more than that, Thyrna noticed that there was an overall feel of contentment throughout the town.

Nazar was the first to respond. “There isn’t anything magically malicious going on. Just the usual magical white noise one would expect in a town this size.”

Thyrna looked at her traveling companions and explained what she was able to observe.

Nazar nodded sagely at Thyrna. “There must be something in the food. It has got to be the food.” Nazar looked over to Maldrus, who was actively paying for a rack of ribs from a vendor. “Don’t eat anything!”

Maldrus, hands full of delicious meat, looked almost crestfallen. “When you say nothing…?”

Nazar already had a quill and parchment in hand and was furiously scribbling away and watching Maldrus intently.

“You know that makes me anxious when you do that.” Maldrus reminded the wizard.

Nazar smiled fully and sent a message directly into Maldrus’ mind. “You are being observed.” followed by a quick laugh.

“I f*****g hate it when you do that!” Maldrus spat.

The vendor looked scandalously at the pair briefly, then contentment returned almost immediately. Thyrna noted that her reaction seemed to be based more on the interaction than what was said. “Enjoy!”

Maldrus nodded to the vendor and turned to his companions. “I didn’t even have to haggle!” He then began eating the ribs as happily as could be.

Nazar began scribbling industriously on his parchment, taking incredibly detailed notes.

Thyrna moved close to Nazar and whispered, “What is going on with the fake town?”

Not looking up from his note-taking, Nazar replied, “I genuinely don’t know! I think it might be the food.”

Maldrus, still thoroughly enjoying his ribs, moved closer to the pair and leaned down so he could join in on the whispering. “What are we talking about?” He took another bite, chewing more carefully this time. “You know… this is good. Really good, actually. But it feels like it’s missing something. You wanna try some?”

Nazar pushed the ribs away as politely as he could manage. “Are you missing something? Like, maybe, your emotions?” He then shot his hands in the air and shouted ‘BOO’ into the face of the goliath.

Maldrus stared blankly at the wizard. “We have been adventuring together for almost ten years. You have never once scared me.” He took another bite of his ribs, stared at Nazar like a cow chewing cud, swallowed, then lunged towards him stopping inches away from his face and also shouted ‘BOO!’

“S**t.”

Maldrus laughed heartily at his friend and took another bite.

Nazar looked at Thyrna. “So it’s not the food, he still has his sense of humor.” He crumpled the parchment he had been taking notes on and shoved it back in his pack.

“Seriously though,” Maldrus offered the ribs to his friends again. “They’re really good, but something is missing. Try it.”

Both Nazar and Thyrna took bites. Nazar spent a little more time rolling the flavors over as he chewed. All of the flavors were there, the cook was perfect, great crust, good mouth feel. Nazar did notice that something did seem to be missing…

“It’s technically perfect.” He began. “But it wasn’t made with love.”

Maldrus swatted Thyrna on the back, nearly knocking her over. “That’s it! Momma used to call it ‘putting her whole foot in it’, but you are exactly right!”

Thyrna righted herself. “That’s what’s wrong with this whole town. It’s technically perfect. But there’s no love in it. No emotion, whatsoever.”

Nazar looked up and down the street. Among all of the vendors selling their wares, he found two blacksmith stalls. One manned by a dwarf and the other by an elf. Nazar spun on his heels and marched in the direction of the elf’s stall. Thyrna and Maldrus exchanged smiles and followed their friend.

As they approached, the elf looked up from the project he was working on and smiled at the trio. “Good day!” Nazar got the impression that the smile was automatic and the greeting was more an observation of the day. It was a nice day, after all.

“Good day sir! How is your day going?”

The elf stopped working to give the group his full attention. “Thank you for asking! It is another great day in Teebeedee. Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Can you tell me if there has ever been a bad day here in Teebeedee?”

“Oh, yes! Very recently! Two years ago, in fact!”

“‘Very recently’ was two years ago? You have a very interesting definition of the passage of time, my friend.” Maldrus said with a smile.

The elf smiled sadly at the goliath. “Well, for beings such as ourselves,” the elf indicated himself, Nazar, and Thyrna; “two years is just a blink of an eye.”

Nazar nodded at Maldrus. “This is true.” He turned back to the blacksmith with great interest. “So, what happened that was so bad?”

The elf scratched his temple with his hammer. “Well… bad isn’t exactly the most fitting word, but, two years ago there were bar brawls, thefts, folks being taken advantage of with haggling, tempers flaring, and arguments of all kinds. The normal things one would expect in a town of this size in a location like this. It wasn’t bad, per se, just not nearly as good as it is now.”

Thyrna, who had her own thoughts about the town blazing in her mind, asked as if she knew what the answer was going to be: “What changed? What made it better?”

“Well, we had a visitor come through the town. A warforged, actually! I have never seen that kind of armor on a warforged before, it was exquisite!” The groups’ expressions began to sour. “He was incredibly kind and well-mannered, and he sought an audience with the town magistrate. He was there for a tenday, or so. They didn’t leave the entire time he was there but when they did come out the magistrate and the warforged, who many of us believe to be the savior of our town, explained how things were going to be moving forward. Admittedly, it was a little shaky at first. There were a lot of very passionate people in the town, after all. The more we saw how much smoother things could be without getting into our emotions and letting them affect our senses and sensibilities, it was a natural progression and we’ve experienced nothing but peace and tranquility for the last year and a half.”

There was a chorus of repeating ‘Right’ from the party for about a minute while they digested this.

Thyrna finally asked the question she didn’t want to ask. “White and gold armor?”

The elf smiled brightly. “Yes! Do you know him?”

“Is he still here?” Thyrna asked without much hope in her voice.

“Oh no. Goose left after everything was settled.” The elf said with another smile.

Nazar looked to Maldrus. “He said the name.”

“Of course! Everyone knows Goose! If it wasn’t for him, we wouldn’t be experiencing what we are experiencing today.”

Nazar smiled uneasily. “Right.”

Thyrna, voice dripping with sarcasm, added, “Well grease his gears!”

The elf pointed to the west, “Actually, the dwarf two stalls down did that for him before he left!”

“How nice for him.” Thyrna said with little emotion.

“We… we gotta go… We…” Nazar looked around quickly, grabbed a single arrow, reached into his coin purse and placed a small handful of coins on the table. “Thank you for… we gotta go!” He then rushed out of the stall with Thyrna and Maldrus following close behind.

“Do you not want your change?” The elf called after them. He hummed to himself, thankful for the tip and resumed his work.

Thyrna stormed off towards the town center. Nazar, being over a foot shorter than her, quickly fell behind. “Maldrus? Some help if you would be so kind?” Maldrus smiled as he scooped Nazar up and placed him on his shoulder in one fluid motion and quickly matched Thyrna’s pace.

The goliath decided to break the silence. “I understand you’re upset, but… he didn’t really do anything wrong? Did he?” In the awkward silence that followed, he tried again. “I mean, the townsfolk seem, well, not happy, but they’re content!”

Thyrna wheeled around and looked up at her companions. “Don’t you think everyone has the right to be happy?”

Nazar, still reaching out for any signs of malignant magics mused, “Back in school, my ethics professor would call this lich-like behaviour.”

Maldrus raised his hands to try to calm his friends’. “Fair! You both raise valid points. But consider: Usually when we arrive in a town, people are typically not happy, let alone content.”

“True.” Nazar conceded. “But this… this isn’t bad. But it’s not good!”

“Like the ribs?”

“Like the ribs!”

Thyrna’s skin flared in agitation, raising the temperature in the immediate area. “I want good ribs!”

With that, Thyrna turned to a passerby and asked where to find the magistrate. They directed the group with a smile and went about their day. Thyrna was grumbling under her breath the entire way, growing steadily hotter in her anger. By the time they reached the office of the magistrate, Thyrna was white-hot and Nazar was molding the earth behind her to repair the damage she was leaving on the cobbles. Thyrna was burning so hot by the time she reached the door, she didn’t even have to stop as the door hinges melted off and the doors fell before her without her having to break stride. “Where is my nephew?” she demanded.

The magistrate looked up from his piles of paper, signaled to his assistant to leave them and looked back to the group. “Uhh… who is your nephew?”

Thyrna’s flames grew several inches. “Goose!”

“Oh, Goose! He left to go on and spread his message!”

Thyrna began vibrating in addition to billowing heat. Maldrus had taken out a small blanket and was beating the floor around her feet. “Thyrna quit! You’re burning the tiles!”

Nazar edged around the searing heat that was billowing off of Thyrna and approached the desk. “Hey… Good day, your honor. Could you please, perhaps tell us what happened when our nephew visited?”

“Your nephew, our town’s savior, came to us and showed us a better way. It took some of us a little more convincing than others,” Thyrna and Nazar noticed a slight shudder as he said that, “but we all agreed that this was a much better way and we are all better for it. We as a town are content and things are better than we could have all imagined. Crime is virtually nil! We still keep a small number of guards around for the adventurers that pass through, but since your nephew came to us, things have been so good.”

Thyrna’s flames abruptly stopped. The sudden change from flaming fury to quiet calm was terrifying. She slowly and calmly approached the magistrate’s desk, leaned towards the magistrate and asked: “What do you mean: convincing?”

The magistrate’s face registered no emotion. “As intimidating as I am sure you think you are being right now,” Nazar and Maldrus both sucked in some air. “I assure you that your… nephew, you said? Infinitely moreso.”

Nazar slipped behind Maldrus and began drawing the ‘Thyrna is about to go supernova teleportation circle’.

Maldrus, very cautiously, approached Thyrna and spoke softly. “Thyrna? He is not a bad guy… We may not necessarily agree with him, but that doesn’t make him a bad guy.”

Thyrna drew her Oath Bow and nocked an arrow.

Maldrus looked helplessly at the magistrate. “I am so… so sorry.” He then returned to the circle that Nazar was desperately trying to finish.

The magistrate folded his hands on his desk. “It is unfortunate that the guards are out on patrol.” He then closed his eyes, ready to accept whatever was about to happen to him.

Thyrna’s flames blazed, then went out. She took the arrow from the bow, and scratched his cheek with the tip. She then placed the arrow back in her quiver and replaced her bow before joining Nazar and Maldrus inside the circle. “You aren’t even worth it. You are pathetic.”

Before Nazar could activate the circle, the magistrate touched where he had been scratched and said, “I respect your opinion.”

Nazar activated the circle, transporting the party into a clearing at the edge of the tree line of the forest approximately a mile outside of the Teebeedee where he had set up a Private Sanctum.

“Well, that was more than a blacksmith…”

“It certainly was…” Maldrus turned to the fire genasi. “How we doing, Thyrna?”

“I want to go see Flick.”

Nazar and Maldrus both quickly agreed. “Yes! We should absolutely go see Flick! Do you want to go now? We could go now!”
***

“Rise.”

A sudden gasp ripped through the quiet room. The man tied to the chair was terrified, his eyes wide in a silent panic as his breath came back to him in ragged gulps.

“It’s the only logical conclusion, Your Majesty. Emotions cloud judgment. It makes otherwise simple decisions unnecessarily messy. Logic. Logic will save this plane. Your people love you, and they should. You are, truly, a great leader. I beg you to see reason, Your Majesty.”

The king regained a modicum of his composure. “I knew your fathers. They were, and still are, great men in their own rights. What do you think they would think of what you are doing?”

Goose lowered his head as he approached the king and kneeled before him. “There was a time, not long ago actually, where I would have lost my temper at a comment like that, Your Majesty. It has been said that my temper could have rivaled that of my father’s. But I have seen the error of my ways. I have seen the error of the ways of the entire plane. I have removed my emotions, preferring to live strictly as logic dictates. I understand that it is not so simple for most sentient species, however. I am emotionless, not heartless. This is why I need your help, Your Majesty.”

“You need more help than I am able to provide, I am afraid.”

“You said that you knew my fathers. Surely you recognize this?” Goose raised his father’s morningstar. The King nodded. “If you won’t listen to me,” Goose rose to his full height before the bound king, “perhaps you will listen to my father.”

Goose brought the morningstar down upon the king’s head with his full force. After some effort, he was able to dislodge the weapon from the dead king’s skull. Goose used the king’s tunic to clean the blood and viscera and replaced it on his belt. He raised his hand, pointing the palm towards the dead king.

“Rise.”

A sudden gasp ripped through the quiet room. The man tied to the chair was terrified, his eyes wide in a silent panic as his breath came back to him in ragged gulps.

“I urge you to listen to reason, Your Majesty.”

It had been two years since his visit to see his Aunt and Uncle. Goose’s search had proven fruitless for patterns that would help him make sense of his father’s passing. It was infuriating.

Emotions again. Goose cursed his limitations and realized what he needed to do. He couldn’t go to Flick. He couldn’t even go to Halbi, because she would tell Flick. He would have to find a wizard that made warforged. If they were able to create others like him without the capacity for emotion, perhaps they could turn his off. It was worth a shot.

Waterdeep was the closest major city

However, all of his research gave him unrivaled knowledge of the governments of the plane. If he could not influence a series of events that would repeat a history that would bring about peace across the plane, he would bring peace the only way the governments would recognize. Goose acknowledged that peace through force was, while tenable, short-lived at best. That being said, once peace was acquired, Goose would persuade the kingdoms to see reason and, more importantly, logic. Once logical order was established, it would maintain itself and flourish. Goose predicted that as each new kingdom submitted to logical order, word would spread of the prosperity and Goose’s crusade would become easier the longer it went.


***

Author's Note

This is a work in progress! I will post more as I write it (hopefully soon!)