Above a Bar in Unen

#1

The bar was little more than a rooftop of a small brick building whose front porch opened onto the beach. The sky was blue and the surf lapped on the shore. And at the bar stood the bartender an older scarred Olgog dressed in human-style clothing, a white set of linen pants, and a thick leather vest adorned with patches from the pirate gangs that called the bar home over the years.

Across from him were three empty tables. And then he blinked and swore for a moment as a handsome Earther was sitting there with golden hair, dressed in a simple set of monk’s robes. He motioned to the bar tender, saying , “I need three rounds please.”

The bartender replied, “Err, okay, of what?”

“Make them all whatever local booze you brew,” said Abel tossed a bag which clinked as it landed on the bar.

The bartender opened it up and revealed several shiny precious stones inside. Pocketing them he asked, “Keep em coming?”

“You read my mind,” said Abel.

He then focused his mind and in a flash of golden light appeared a tall handsome Olgog dressed in an EEF military uniform and a cloaked being with a shiny metal claw and a strange mask.

“Lord Roan Desdaemon and Kincaid, Patron Saint of the Valkyrie Corps, thank you for gracing me with your presence,” said Abel as the bartender placed the thick brown liquor glasses in front of them.

The glasses had been locally blown, and had a smoky distorting quality that made the vile drink seem even more distasteful. Abel lifted it to his lips and took a long draught and found its taste similar to a bourbon though with a heavy after taste of the Nanye Pears it was distilled from. It was good and damn strong, probably high enough proof to set fire to things if they weren’t careful.

“I have a mission for you both if you choose to accept it,” said Abel, “The Goblin Lands are poised to blossom under the right conditions. But threats of the Church of One Purges from the North and attacks by Pit Mongrels and Warmonger’s Dead from the south may drive the Olgogs to great evil in trying to protect themselves.
They will need your help.”

#2

Kincaid had been in the depths of space when he heard Abels call. Helping his where he could. A group of pirates had attacked an EEF supply convoy. The pirates ended up withdrawing but not before receiving casualties. The EEF lost one of there gunpods. The pilot had been praying to Kincaid before the fight but a rail round shattered his canopy and pulped him, the icy chunks floating into the abyss. One of the pirate fighters had been riddled with aegis rounds. Its power plant offline, engines torn to shreds, slowly leaking oxygen in a dull hiss. The pilot began praying also, not to Kincaid specifically, but the Patron saint of Valkyries and pilots heard the prayers. Kincaid had done a simple thing to answer both their prayers. he activated the emergency beacon in the EEF gunpod and nudged it so it gently bumped againt the pirate bird. The twisted metal in both fighters caused them to be tangled in a slowly turning dance.

The EEF would spot the beacon and dispatch search and rescue. There was more than enough tissue to ressurect the EEF pilot and the pirate would be saved from a slow torturous death. what fate the EEF had for him remained to be seen.

Kincaid’s nostrils flared as he sniffed the brew. He cautiously took a sip. He had ascended less than a score ago, less than a heart beat in the face of eternity, he knew it would serve him well to remain completely sober. As he looked around the bar he felt a tinge of something, an emotion more complex than the surprisingly good libation in the distorted glass.

He realized he had never been to the Goblin lands. He was an Olgog and had dragged his wing into many a bar fight, and even got into a pissing contest with the Lord Glomhammer over his teal fur and his pride in it. But for all his bluster he had never actually been here.

He put down the glass, “I am all ears Abel. You have been one of the few ascended beings I have found I can trust, and you know that. Truth be told I probably owe it to my people.”

Kincaid looked around at the bar, really if he didn’t know better the bar could be in the slums of any of the colonies. It wasn’t hard to imagine stepping out into a bustling olgog metropolis.

Kincaid shot Abel a smile, “I am guessing living up to my namesake of being the storm god and making it rain wasn’t quite what you had planned.”

#3

Abel took another gentle swig from the liquor. It’s taste actually began to grow on him. Something to send to Lady Starsmith, he wondered. Despite their epic breakup he still would send her gifts every few months, she was the mother of his child after all. Even if she still hated him for the choices he made. He didn’t blame her, just felt sad for her.
He decided against sending the liquor, like most of his gifts it would go to waste.

Looking across the table at the ascended Olgog, he said " As you know Kincaid, many olgogs still do worship a group of non-corporeal non-divisible entities known as the Thunder Gods. So far despite my best efforts I can’t find their thunder gods to aid in this effort.
While I abhor the idea of presenting oneself as a god simply for having ascended, the fact that Olgogs in many communities still worship the Thunder Gods gives us an in.
As you have experienced, as we all do after ascention,* we cannot directly interfere in mundane matters. Oh we can make a storm come and feed the crops, but we can’t just physically show up and make them better. We try and we are shunted back into a corporeal body with its inherent limitations.

However by fullfilling minor miracles using the Leyas, you may be able to protect those who will need it.

I have a quest I must take to the Prison Dimension of Les Tas Tral and then onward through the Armenius Orbs to the Hell Dimensions of the Warmonger.

It may take moments, it may take years based on what we face down there. But as a Mortal I served in the Church of One armies as a Paladin. I know first hand how their purges of nonhumans progress. They have begun as they always do extending their reach through new outposts in Unen and Brez

If you choose to aid the Olgogs, Kincaid, then you will have to do so without arming them. For if war breaks out between the Olgogs and the Earthers, only the ancient evils will be served.

In this battle for the soul of the Goblins lands, tolerance must defeat intolerance not by weapon but by belief and just actions."

#4

“Do it without arming them?” Kincaid asked somewhat incredulously, “Man you give me the easy tasks Abel.” He noted.
“Good luck in the prison dimension.” Kincaid said, “I have nothing but bad memories from there.”
Kincaid downed his drink and stood up nodding to both Abel and Lord Roan before heading for the door. As he stepped out the breeze picked up pushing some smoke from a nearby kiln obscuring the doorway.

An olgog beggar dressed in rags stepped out of the bar. Kincaid knew he needed to learn the lay of the land. Before taking significant action.

#5

Do you think that after the drugs kick in, these guys will want to really be my friends… Wait, did I just speak, or was that my inner monologue. Being in public always confuses me.

#6

The Bladed Sun turned to Roan, saying, “Roan, my friend, your thoughts race while you sit there. Would you prefer telepathy for a situation like this?
The simple truth of the matter is that I learned in the hell dimensions that Warmonger plans on using his flagship to punch a hole out of the prison dimension of Les’Tas’Tral. He has hijacked the body of a boy, Marcus Dannor. I need you to assemble a team to counter him. I know you have contacts across this planet and even out in space. I need them all deployed in this situation. The Da’uhnb will deliver an agent with the proper time of the attack. I only ask that you take along with you Lurlock of Kasanth and Scout of the Tsogari and my old pal Grim.”

#7

And so it was that Lord Roan left to prepare an assault on the Warmonger’s Flagship, to gather the heroes who would be needed.

Meanwhile Abel Dragonsbane headed south to the Camps of Unit 111 to help protect the olgog forces seeking to liberate their lands.