Goblin Diaries, Vol 30: A Change in Erin Callen
From the 04/24/2026 newsletter:
22nd
Day of Snow Moon, 1219th Year, Human Age of Magic …
It may partially be a new perspective I
have on my traveling companion after discovering the dragon pendant among her
things, but a change seems to have come over Erin Callen.
When she returned from her hunt yesterday
afternoon, the first thing she did was dump all the rice and lentils from her
saddlebags and announce that we would “no longer have to eat this crap.”
Personally, I’d had no objection to our
diet. The rice and lentil mixture was nutritious, and Erin had a way of cooking
them with spices that brought out the best of what flavor they had. But in
light of her current feelings concerning them, I felt it inappropriate to voice
my opinion.
She then observed that there would be
plenty of fish and game for the rest of our journey and that we would be living
off the land as we made our way toward the East Road from here. She then set
about dressing the guineafowl, constructing a spit over which to roast them,
and mixing some roots and mushrooms she had gathered into a soup she began to
simmer at the edge of the fire. While waiting for our dinner to become ready,
she disassembled her crossbow and began cleaning and oiling the wooden pieces.
Her sudden frenzied industry engendered a
perception of my own lack thereof, so I asked if there was something I could do
to help. She said that there wasn’t, but that there was something she wanted to
ask me about.
Her request made me nervous. As I’ve
mentioned before, we’ve both have sort of “talked around” our respective pasts.
Other than some childhood anecdotes, she’s shared nothing of herself with me.
And, although I did confess that I had been a prisoner of the warlock in
Zemburith, I did not volunteer any of the sordid details, nor did she ask.
Suppressing my fear that she might now do so, I told her to go ahead.
“I’ve been impressed with the pace you
maintain by walking,” she said. “But I’m anxious to get home, and I think we
could cut several days off our journey if you rode with me on Sura. Would you
mind?”
I lied and said I wouldn’t. After all, I
owe the woman my life. Despite my dislike of horses, I felt it was a small
sacrifice to make.
“Good,” she continued. “Barring any
setbacks, I expect to reach the East Road within six days. I’ll be heading west
into the Valley of Kilaren, which is the end of my journey. If you’re in a
hurry to get to Arleanne, you could take the East Road across the desert into
the Eastern Kingdoms and find passage on a ship to Arleanne, but it is an
arduous trip for someone on foot and you’re not likely to find a caravan going
that way this time of year. You’re welcome to come stay with me on my family’s
farm in Kilaren until spring, when the pass through the mountains to the North
Road will open and regular caravan traffic will be going that way.”
“Until spring, you say? That’s several
moons away, isn’t it?”
She nodded. “At least two.”
I thought about her offer for only a
moment. My hopes of warning the Fae Protectorate that Ka’il Idreth had fallen
into Mazuom’s hands in time for them to take preventive action had faded weeks
ago. “Your family won’t object to housing a goblin for that length of time?”
Her expression turned grim. “They wouldn’t
have, but they’re gone. It will just be the two of us.”
I decided not to ask about where her
family had gone. It didn’t seem like she wanted to talk about it. I accepted
her kind offer.
So, it wasn’t on my list of things to do
while on Earth, but I suppose I will get a chance to see what life is like on a
farm in the Valley of Kilaren.
Lucky me.
