Kagerou's Journal 4

See part 3 here.

The halfling clenched her small fists and took off running as fast as she could on her short legs. I wondered if she was a local, though this town was not known for having halfling citizens. The other two reassured the priest that they would assist and ran after the halfling.

I slipped into the cathedral, instead, and climbed the long stairs to the spire. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to help with the fire, but the sounds from the north spoke of some sort of fight. I didn’t want a horde of goblins sneaking up on the rescue attempt unaware.

Reaching the top, I scanned the distant boundaries of the town to the north. I found the source of the noise quite quickly. A giant with green skin had what looked to be the north gate in his hands and he was using it to smash squealing goblins. His clothing was a curious combination—a too small apron and what looked like a chef’s hat. Somehow a ‘barbarian in an apron’ didn’t seem quite logical. However, before I could do much more than to ponder on the oddity of the scene, the green giant roared and began chasing the fleeing goblins along the north road, soon vanishing into the distance. With that giant on the rampage, I figured the goblins weren’t a threat anymore.

I swept my eyes south searching for the fire. I had slightly miscalculated by not following the halfling for I didn’t know where the healer lived. However, the fire was easily spotted. The smoke obscured my vision of what lay beyond it, but I was fairly certain the healer’s house lay nearly on the edge of the sea.

On light feet I sped downstairs and exited the cathedral. The streets were strangely empty for this time of day due to the goblin attack so I made good progress. When I arrived, the flames had spread even further. Both doors lay splintered. Assuming that the others were inside, I looked around for a means to assist by impeding the flames. Across the street a group of women in heavy make-up stood talking with each other, fear clear in their faces. Prostitutes, I guessed. Extra hands were extra hand no matter whom they belonged to.

One of the women stood slightly apart. She was the only one not talking. Instead she stared at the building. I approached her.

“Excuse me, but are you the madam of this place?”

“I am.” She only spared me a glance.

“Do you have buckets?”

“I do, but for what purpose?”

Now I had her attention. “Could you and your girls help put out the fire by forming a bucket brigade?”

She looked startled but nodded. “I should have thought of that myself. Girls! Go get every bucket we have and fill it with water. We need to help our girls out.”

“Are some of your girls in there?”

“Yes. Three of them and they’re all pregnant.”

“Then I’ll do my best to get them out safely.”

“Thank you.” She hurried off to chivy the girls into line.

Next door sat a shipwright’s shop, but the men waved me off when I tried to speak with them. They were too busy dousing their lumber stock with sea water to pay attention to me.

I turned back to the burning house. It stood two stories high. Flames had nearly completely engulfed the lower story and were creeping up into the second. A sloping roof like awning attached to the building right below a few windows not surrounded by flames. I through I saw movement upstairs so I sprinted towards it, grabbed the edge and swung myself up.