The tall, vaguely handsome man with long black hair wearing a simple homespun tunic and breeches, yet heavily armed, walked into the tavern and sat down. He signaled to the barmaid for a drink. With a sigh, he stretched out and removed a large firearm from a sheath on his back and the longer of the two swords from his swordbelt.

"That be an odd weapon for a ranger." Remarked the barmaid as she came over and set a tankard of ale down at Daragoth’s table.

Daragoth patted the arquebus – a longer and more rare version of a pistol that was on the table next to him – and said. "True. Most would think I would get more use with a bow, but I think it works just as well, if not better, especially when you have only one shot to make."

The barmaid cocked her head. "Really?"

"I find it gives me a slight edge." He smiled.

The barmaid shrugged her shoulders, and moved on. Daragoth took a drink. Ostensibly, he was here because his sister, the wife of a rich merchant, had arranged an interview with Lord Rolnan for the position as warden of his lands. He shook his head. He knew she meant well, but Judith never understood the ranger’s wanderlust.

He didn’t need the money, except for the occasional room at an inn, and when he needed to buy more black powder and other miscellaneous supplies. That he could get simply by hiring himself out as a caravan guard or guide.

He liked the open road. The feel of the wind, the beauty of nature, and the excitement of not knowing what would happen next. All these things were in his blood, and being a glorified "caretaker" really didn’t appeal to him that much. But, he had promised her that he would meet with the Lord.

"Buy a girl a drink, handsome?" Said a woman’s voice.

Daragoth looked up, ready to dismiss whomever it was, when he saw her. Long wavy blond hair framed a pretty face, eyes sparkling with merriment. She wasn’t tall, but she had a dancer’s build and grace. Her clothes hinted at both being a lady of the upper classes and a seasoned adventurer. She carried a sword on her back and a fiddle. He remembered her from previous adventures. "Elaine?" He asked incredulously.

"Oh, come now," she began, "It hasn’t been that long." She plopped down next to him. "Good to see you again." She noticed the arquebus resting on the table. "Ugh. Still playing with that thing?" She remembered the awful noise it made.

"Like I told the barmaid, it gives me a slight edge." Elaine rolled her eyes. "So, what are you doing here?" He asked her.

She smiled. "Looking for trouble. Seriously, nothing. I was just passing through when I thought I saw your horse outside. I decided to check it out, and here you are! Now, what are you doing here?"

He took another drink. "Well, I promised my sister I’d let this local nobleman interview me for a position as his warden."

She looked at him. "Are you serious? You’re going to be interviewed for a job and you look like that?" She plucked at his tunic. "Well, this will never do. Finish your drink and we’ll go shopping."

"I don’t even know if I want to take a job like this." He replied, pulling his arm away from her.

"Still, it’s a sign of respect. I know when I’m performing; I make it a point to look my best, so people will be impressed with me. Whether or not I’m planning to stick around, I always make sure the audience will remember me."

Daragoth sighed. "I don’t suppose I can talk you out of this?"

She half-giggled. "Oh, and they said you were a slow learner."

* * * * *

For the last ten years, the hobgoblins around the Black River had been slowly forced out by humans. Recent settlements by the new nobility had sparked confrontations, and lacking the skill and power of their opponents, the hobgoblins had been forced underground. The occasional outbreak of a raiding party popped up now and then, but by and large, the clan had gone away.

But, they had not forgotten. Rugbar Bone-picker, the shaman of the clan, had nursed a deep hatred of the human interlopers, and recently had decided to act on it.

Using his shamanistic powers, he had brewed a tonic, one to give him the ability to find his ancestors and take their glory and knowledge to the present day.

The circle of hobgoblins clustered around the shaman like flies around carrion. Three days had gone by since he had taken the tonic. The shaman had told them that the tonic was designed to take him to the realm of the dead and back, to gain the secrets he needed. For most of the time, he had been thrashing around like a fish caught in a net. But, he had been still for three hours now. Finally, he stirred.

The hobgoblin shaman slowly, painfully, got up. He felt the effect of the tonic he had taken, and the exertions of his body over the last three days, but he also had the knowledge he needed. He could now lay waste to the surface dwellers. He could unleash plagues of all sorts on the hated surface dwellers – the humans and the others, and they could not stop them. "I have it!" He yelled out.

There were shouts of triumph from the hobgoblins.

The shaman immediately sent the group out to get the things he needed to enact the ritual. Now, would the humans feel the wrath of the clan!

* * * * *

Elaine put the surcoat on Daragoth and stepped back to admire the effect. "That’s much better."

Daragoth grimaced. He looked down at himself, noting the long embroidered tunic, breeches, and now surcoat. "I feel like a popinjay."

She grinned. "You look great. Now you look like someone of importance, someone who would be an asset to anyone’s retinue."

"If you say so."

Elaine chuckled. "Come along, handsome. You have an appointment." She paid the shopkeeper and collected Daragoth’s old clothes, while he put his swordbelt and weapons on. Once outside, they began walking towards the north end of town, to a certain manor.

When they got there, Elaine surprised him again. She rang the bell and before the major-domo could say anything, she told him in her best autocratic voice, "You shall inform Lord Rolnan that Master Ranger Daragoth is here for his interview."

The major-domo’s eyebrows raised. Finally, he said, "Come with me, sir."

Elaine smiled and stepped aside. As he walked by she gave him a quick squeeze of his arm.

The major-domo lad Daragoth inside, closing the door on Elaine. He thought about asking about her, but kept quiet and followed the major-domo. He was led to a large, lavishly appointed room, where an older, portly man sat in a large chair sipping a drink. "Your grace," said the major-domo as they entered, "Master Ranger Daragoth to see you."

The man smiled and got up. He strode forward and put out his hand. "Good to meet you." He said genially, "Lady Servoth spoke most highly of you."

Daragoth sighed. "Yes, well did she tell you she’s my sister?"

He chuckled. "Nevertheless. Sit down, son, and we’ll talk." He went to the sideboard and refilled his drink. "Can I get you something?" He asked.

"Whiskey. Neat."

Lord Rolnan chuckled. "A man after my own heart." He filled another glass and brought it over. He then sat down in his chair. "Let me tell you a little about this region."

* * * * *

The hobgoblins assembled themselves at the place called the weeping giant, an assemblage of stones that looked like a giant half-formed human. Grunting, the shaman moved aside a stone and found a shallow bowl carved with runes. He grinned.

Taking a knife, he drew a line on his own wrist and let the blood spatter into the bowl. "Hasta meir, hasta mier, hasta mier" he chanted, and the blood began to bubble. He poured the contents of a pouch – crushed insects - onto the bubbling blood, and felt the wind kick up. The insect parts began to smoke, and, unaffected by the wind, the smoke began to drift up into the forming clouds.

The shaman continued to chant, and added more things to the blood and insects – hair, crushed herbs, his own spittle, an eye – the brew continued to bubble and smoke. There came a rumbling – suddenly, the earth shook like it was caught in the teeth of a dog. Great cracks appeared in the earth, and foul gasses erupted from them.

Inside the manor, both Daragoth and Lord Rolnan felt the earthquake. They were going to leave the room when suddenly Elaine burst in. "Hey, guys," she said, "Some strange stuff is happening out here. You should come out and look."

Lord Rolnan and Daragoth followed Elaine. The scene looked like a nightmare. The earth was rent with cracks, and the weather looked crazy. All three could see funnel clouds forming. "I’d wager to say this isn’t normal." Said Daragoth.

Elaine gave him a look. "Good detective work there. Magic is fueling this." She looked around. "My guess is that it’s being started where those tornadoes are forming up." She turned to Lord Rolnan and pointed. "Do you know what’s there?"

Lord Rolnan looked at the area. "The weeping giant. Legends say that the old ones lost a battle there. I’ve heard of some bizarre happenings around there, but it’s been pretty quiet. Maybe its.." The rest of what he was saying was lost as the earth shook again.

"I think it’s a good place to start." Said Daragoth. "Elaine, get your things, Lord Rolnan, send someone to the nearest temple." He stripped off the surcoat and began walking quickly. Elaine quickly followed.

The weather got worse as they traveled. Rain fell in sheets, and wind howled and even hail began to fall. "This is definitely the work of something evil." Remarked Elaine as they walked.

The closer they got to the weeping giant, the less the effects of the weather were. As they crested a hill, they saw the weeping giant, and sure enough evidence of hostile magic. A hobgoblin was dancing around on the stones, all the time chanting strange words. Surrounding the stones was about fifteen of the creatures.

"Can you stop the ritual?" Daragoth asked Elaine

She shook her head. "Whatever he’s doing, it’s far more powerful than my talents."

Daragoth nodded. "Fine. Let’s stop it the old fashioned way." He drew both his swords and began to advance. The hobgoblins saw him, and aside from the shaman, charged. Elaine drew a dagger from her belt, and threw. It buried itself in the neck of the lead hobgoblin, which collapsed, gurgling blood. She then drew her own blade and followed the ranger.

His swords moving so fast they blurred, Daragoth met the charge of the hobgoblins. Three came within range, and were cut down, one after the other in short order. Two moved around to flank the ranger, but were met by the bard. She chopped at one, parried a blow from the other. She began to sing, her voice carrying over the shouts and grunts of the hobgoblins.

Daragoth continued to mercilessly hack his way through the hobgoblins. Occasionally, one would score a small wound on the ranger, but they were no match for him. Untiring, his blades whizzed through the mob like a scythe harvesting wheat.

It was over quite quickly. Most of the hobgoblins were dead; a couple were running for their lives. Daragoth checked, and Elaine was right behind him. Together, they began to advance on the shaman.

Suddenly, the earth rose up in a fist between the shaman and the ranger. Like a small volcano, beetles the size of a man’s hand erupted outward, a carpet of living death. The scurrying creatures charged madly in every direction, and more erupted all the time.

Daragoth drew back, getting ready to run, but Elaine was ready. Quickly, she poured out sulfur powder in a line around then and chanted, and a wall of fire sprung up in a circle around them. The beetles met the wall and charred almost instantly.

While they were safe, they could not leave the confines of the wall. After waiting for a few minutes, they saw as beetles continued to erupt from the earth, it became apparent that whatever force that was causing the insects to come forth wasn’t going to stop any time soon.

Elaine ran through the spells she knew. Few, if any, would produce anything useful. She was about to try a spell which would enable her to hopefully leap the distance between the center of the wall and the shaman when Daragoth pulled his arquebus, took aim, and fired.

There was a loud BANG! And the round hit the shaman. The back of its neck nearly exploded, blood flying everywhere. The hobgoblin fell off the stones, and was quickly covered by the beetles. It didn’t even scream as its flesh was devoured by the creatures its magic had summoned.

The spell the shaman had been doing began to fail. The winds stopped, occasional gusts blasting out like a ragged cloth, and quieting. The storms died away, and the beetles began to vanish. In a short time, everything was quiet.

Daragoth patted the arquebus. "Like I said, a slight edge."

Elaine smiled and dispelled her wall of fire.

* * * * *

Some time later, after he and Elaine returned to the town and made a report to the local constabulary, Daragoth went back to the manor of Lord Rolnan. After telling the Lord about the hobgoblins, he concluded by giving Lord Rolnan his decision about being Rolnan’s warden.

"Your grace, the offer is quite good, but it’s just not what I need in my life. I’m too much a wanderer for now."

The lord sighed. "Very well, but the offer still stands. You come back any time, and the job is yours." He patted Daragoth on the back.

Daragoth smiled, shook the lord’s hand, and left. He went back to the tavern, where he found Elaine. "So, are you going to take the job?" She asked as he sat down.

Daragoth shook his head. "Nope. Not what I want in my life now. Decent enough guy, though."

"I figured as much." She collected her things. "Well, I’m off. I’ve got a gig a couple of towns over." Before he could answer, she left.

Daragoth was faintly surprised, but didn’t let it bother him. He mulled over what to do.

Suddenly, Elaine flounced back and looked at him, her hands on her hips. "Well? Aren’t you coming?"

Chuckling, Daragoth got up and followed her. There were worse ways to spend the next couple of days.