Chapter 5- Part 3

Pienna scrubbed the pots in the stream that ran past Ama’shay’s little cave. It was late in the morning, almost noon on the 25th of Aryth. They’d been up late, scouring the woods at Ama’shay’s urgings. The orc could not believe that a mere goblin had successfully stalked and killed a dolgaunt, and the elderly druid had insisted that what Bresbin had killed had been a mere decoy.

Eventually, Ama’shay had to give in. He did not say that he believed the goblin, but Pienna knew that he did from the begrudging way that the old orc had finally suggested that they get some sleep. Through it all Bresbin had been patient, oddly so. Pienna was used to the little goblin by now, and she was fairly certain that only Bresbin’s great respect for the Gatekeeper sect kept him from becoming angry with Ama’shay.

They’d slept, finally, and Pienna had arisen late. Ama’shay, being nocturnal, was still asleep (as was his companion), but Bresbin had been up, fishing in the stream. The goblin had caught a trout or two, and fed one to Missy. The great cat had gotten up when Bresbin did, keeping an eye on the goblin, and seemed most content with things. Pienna had made gruel for the both of them.

Now she was washing the pots, with the aid of a small, friendly water elemental, while Bresbin smoked a couple of deboned trout nearby.

“Lady Pienna,” Bresbin said, after a very long silence.

She turned to look at him. “Yes?” she asked.

He pursed his lips, then turned from the trout to stare at her. His eyes were big and mournful. “Something more is happening here, yes? Something bigger than Brezzy helping Pienna against the unthings?”

She thought for a moment, then nodded. “Are you sure you want to know?” she asked. “It’s big, Brezzy, very big. Big as the world.”

The goblin seemed to consider this for a moment, and nodded. Pienna could tell that the moment’s consideration was a front. The goblin was terribly, terribly curious. He wanted to know very badly, and was trying to hide it. He probably feels like he belongs to something for the first time in his life, she thought.

“Brezzy wants to know,” the goblin said. “Brezzy takes the risk on himself.”

“There is a prophecy at work,” she explained. “The world stands on edge, perhaps deeper into war, perhaps away from it towards peace. Forces on high are poised, forces that we don’t understand. We must follow a path.”

“What path?” Brezzy asked. “Which kingdoms will this help?”

“All of them,” she told him. “Eldeen and Aundair, Breland and Cyre, Darguun and Valenar, Thrane and Karrnath.” She saw something flicker in his eyes when she said Breland, but she didn’t understand it, so she pressed on. “I sent three individuals on a path, a path where they were supposed to find a fourth, then find a riddle, then become three again. If they don’t bring the riddle back, we have no hope of stopping chaos.”

“Where did they go?” he asked her. “Your three, where did they set to?”

“To Oalian,” she told him.

“Then why do we not go see the great tree?” the goblin asked, puzzled.

“I have,” she said. “He told me that they went to the Demon Wastes.”

Bresbin hissed and made a warding gesture. “They do not come back then, my Lady Pienna,” he said, shaking his head.

“Oalian thinks that they might,” she said. “He told me that if they would survive, they would return, and that I could not go looking for them, they would find me. He told me to tend to my tasks.”

The goblin stared at her. A long silence passed in the sunlight.

“And Pienna went to her tasks, fighting the Aundairians,” he noted. “Pienna’s task was Aundair, but not it is being a Gatekeeper? Brezzy does not understand.”

She chewed her lip for a moment, unsure of what to say. “A druid of my order noted that as well, and told me that my tasks were wrong,” she finally said. “Do you think my tasks were wrong?”

“What the Lady does is not Brezzy’s place to say right or wrong,” he shrugged. “Brezzy fought Aundair because they attacked the land in which he stayed. Brezzy fights the unthings because he was raised to believe against them. Are Brezzy’s tasks wrong?”

“You aren’t a sworn priest,” Pienna sighed. “And some think that my fighting Aundair is distracting from my Gatekeeper duties. Some think that it makes it seem as if I favor one nation over another.”

“Pienna fears what other nations think,” Bresbin noted.

“Pienna thinks that she should not ignore it,” the druidess responded. “I felt that I did what was right against the Aundairians, and certainly there is plenty of druid magic being brought against the proud wine-drinkers, but the bottom line is that the Gatekeeper sect is different than the other sects. We must be apart from this conflict, else we cannot do the work that we must do.” She sighed. “The seals against the daelkyr are mostly in Eldeen and the Marches, but some exist everywhere. Can you imagine trying to hold back the forces of Khyber in Breland if the Dark Lanterns thought the Gatekeepers were taking sides?”

Bresbin’s face was oddly blank. Finally he spoke.

“Bresbin believes in Pienna,” he said. “Bresbin thinks that Pienna is right, and he wants to help her in her quest.”

“Thank you,” she smiled.

He turned his head to the side and began rotating the fish over the smoke. “So, who is the one who thinks Pienna had her tasks wrong?”

“Don’t worry,” she smiled, finishing with the pot. “No one that you are likely to meet.”