Grovel lost track of time since his traveling partner Krum was killed, Krum liked to travel at night but it seemed that was when most of the things that kill goblins are hunting. Grovel taugh himself to sleep at night and travel during the day over that last several weeks. The change had left him feeling head swoon, and somewhat timeless. As he sat tending his fire, he flipped the fish to darken the other side, remembering back to his tribe and the way that the teachings of the wise women would make him feel the same way.
“The spirits of the world are not meant to be tamed, but rather experienced and appreciated, like the shocking cold of a refreshing mountain stream, or the nurturing warm soup that we make”
Koofa was the wisest of the wise woman, in the tribe the wise woman would teach the young and from these the hopefuls were chosen. Koofa was a water soul and so much of her teachings were of the power of water. Grovel contemplated, “I wonder what my soul holds”. He took the blacked fish from the fire, and held it close to his face, fire warms you now you warm me, “Ha haaa” grovel laughs with understanding, as he takes a bite.
Grovel really enjoyed being alone; but the fear of death motivated him finally to head back to the small town of Hlint. Grovel had busied himself digging clay and sand to make molds for a kind dwarf, the dwarf paid him in gold, which made the hard labor abet more bearable, but non the less boring. somtimes though during the work Grovel would get ideas and inspirations from the spirit world. On back to the wonderful fish pond in Hlint, grovel prided himself on his hunting and fishing skills, and his eating skills too.
Grom was a powerfully build goblin that Grovel meet and seemed to have a kinship with right away. With Grom’s help the two made war on the despicable goblins outside Hlint. Grovel had tried to approach them to ask if they might have any information on the location of Grovels tribe and they immediately shot at him and laughed, this worked Grovel into a frenzy and he shot as many of them as he could and chopped the rest into tiny bits and threw them into their own cooking fire. Grovel had a bad temper, especially if a kinsfolk could not even talk to him. Grovel felt good after their cave was quiet and smelled of blood, his anger appeased; for the moment. Resting later that evening a sudden feeling of urgency gripped at grovel and made him feel as though he must find his tribe or perhaps the girl. Grovel was feeling the spirit call and without the ritual, he may never find his totem spirit. Grovels mind raced with the spirits of fire, water, earth, wind and wood, “WHO IS IT…..” He found himself calling out, waking from his dream.
Grovel sat up, and resolved to seek his tribe in further lands.
