Tales from the Forgotten Realms: Tarakhin Grimscale

Chapter 7: The Journey Begins

The journey was long and uneventful, but Tarakhin found himself enjoying the company of Oneshoe. The gnome was a chatterbox, always eager to regale Tarakhin with tales of his adventures. Tarakhin, for his part, was content to listen and occasionally offer a grunt or a nod in response.

As they continued down a narrow pass through a dense forest, Tarakhin noticed Gundren's brother in the track. The group of goblins sprung their ambush. Tarakhin pulled out his greatsword. Oneshoe, with a gleeful grin, jumped down from the wagon and charged forward as well, brandishing his short sword. The battle was brief but intense, with Tarakhin using his strength and Oneshoe his agility to take down the goblins one by one.

As the last goblin was interrogated, Tarakhin buried the bodies. Oneshoe, meanwhile, was already searching the bodies for loot.

"Well done," Tarakhin said, sheathing his sword. "I didn't expect to run into trouble so soon."

Oneshoe shrugged. "That's the life of an adventurer, my friend. You never know what's going to happen next."

Tarakhin nodded, his excitement growing. He had always known that the life of a dragonborn was meant for something more than simply living in the forest. This journey to Neverwinter was just the beginning. With their mules fed, carriage hidden and weapons sharpened, the two began on their journey to the cave, determined to rescue their pay for the job, and if possible, Gundren too.

The two adventurers made their way deeper into the forest, their path illuminated only by the light of the moon and the occasional flicker of a firefly. The air grew thick with the smell of damp earth and decaying leaves. Tarakhin couldn't help but feel on edge, his hand instinctively hovering over his sword hilt.

Suddenly, they heard a low growling sound coming from up ahead. They crept closer and saw a group of wolves prowling in the clearing. The wolves turned their attention to the two intruders, their eyes glinting in the moonlight. Tarakhin and Oneshoe readied themselves for the attack, but before the wolves could pounce, a deep, rumbling growl echoed through the clearing, causing the wolves to shrink back.

Out of the darkness stepped a massive firbolg, its fur gleaming in the moonlight. The creature was covered in thick, ruddy fur, and had a cow-like face, floppy pointed ears and a broad, pink nose. Tarakhin and Oneshoe froze, unsure of what to do. The firbolg stared at them for a long moment, its nostrils flaring as it took in their scent.

Then, to their surprise, it spoke.

"Who are you, and what brings you to my forest?" it rumbled.

Tarakhin stepped forward, his hand still resting on his sword hilt. "I am Tarakhin, and this is Oneshoe. We're searching for a cave where goblins are said to be holding a group of captives."

The firbolg snorted, its massive head swaying back and forth as it considered their words. "I have seen such a cave, but I will only let you pass through my territory on one condition. You must hunt down the pack of dire wolves that has been preying on my kin. They make their den nearby, and they must be dealt with."

Tarakhin and Oneshoe exchanged a glance, then nodded. "We'll do it," Oneshoe said.

The creature grunted in approval, pointed to a set of tracks on the floor, and lumbered back into the darkness, leaving the two adventurers to make their way towards the wolf den.

The two adventurers walked for hours, following the tracks left by the goblins. As they trudged through the forest, they couldn't help but feel like they were being watched. Tarakhin had learned to trust his instincts over the years, and he had a feeling that something was lurking in the shadows.

Suddenly, the silence was broken by a loud howl. Tarakhin and Oneshoe turned to see a pack of dire wolves emerging from the trees, their eyes gleaming with hunger.