Subscribe
Share
Share
Embed
S1 EP03 | After Sir Jerrick’s mysterious return, the newly summoned heroes are left with more questions than answers. The name Xlynar hangs over Riverden like a warning, but Verzana, Synthia, Elowyn, and Drogon quickly learn that the town’s people are just as guarded as its legends. As whispers of goblins, missing trade, and an island across the river begin to surface, the four strangers search for someone willing to tell them the truth. But when their questions lead them to the harbor, Riverden’s quiet fear finally comes charging down the hill.
Check out our website: https://legendsawakenedpodcast.transistor.fm/
⬅️ PREVIOUS EPISODE |
⬅️ PREVIOUS EPISODE |
Other shows by Sixfive Media:
Another Zelda Podcast - It's not just any Zelda podcast, it's Another Zelda Podcast. Join co-hosts David Geisler and Kady Roberts as they deep dive into The Legend of Zelda series.
Another Zelda Podcast - It's not just any Zelda podcast, it's Another Zelda Podcast. Join co-hosts David Geisler and Kady Roberts as they deep dive into The Legend of Zelda series.
Find other great shows from Sixfive Media here: sixfive.media
The views, information, or opinions expressed during Legends Awakened: A D&D Podcast are solely those of the individuals involved and do not necessarily represent those of Sixfive Media and its employees.
This has been a production of Sixfive Media.
COPYRIGHT 2026 SIXFIVE MEDIA, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
The views, information, or opinions expressed during Legends Awakened: A D&D Podcast are solely those of the individuals involved and do not necessarily represent those of Sixfive Media and its employees.
This has been a production of Sixfive Media.
COPYRIGHT 2026 SIXFIVE MEDIA, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
Creators and Guests
JB
Host
Jay Bexell
as themselves, and Fagon Stogg
MD
Host
Madyson DeJausserand
as Verzana Warmgather
Host
Michelle Sayre
as Synthia and herself
ME
Host
Millea Errel
as Elowyn
MG
Guest
Marley Galnares
as Meredith
SM
Guest
Spencer Morgan
as Dargan Stelgrip, Footsie, and Tootsie
What is Legends Awakened: A D&D Podcast?
In the world of Kaelvaris, five mysterious orbs ignite in a hidden chamber and rip strangers from their lives, dropping them into darkness with no answers and a destiny that may be a mistake. What starts as a chaotic first adventure quickly spirals into monsters, secrets, and a creeping truth: something ancient is waking up, and the “chosen heroes” might not be chosen at all.
Legends Awakened: A D&D Podcast is a cinematic, fully produced audio drama built from a real first-time Dungeons & Dragons campaign played by a group of friends, then retold as an epic fantasy story.
Previously on Legends Awakened.
Speaker 2:Find your courage in there. I'll hold the way out.
Speaker 3:Did you hear that? Small feet. Many of them. None of these will answer me. Any of us ready?
Speaker 2:Does it matter?
Speaker 3:Heroes not fighters, What are you? Where is Jerick?
Speaker 4:What did you do?
Speaker 5:I I don't know what happened. I swear it. He was there then gone. That was supposed to be rats, just rats.
Speaker 6:Oh, thank goodness. I I thought I'd missed you. Oren told me you'd come. I'm his father, Caelin Vorthos.
Speaker 7:They talk about destiny like it's a comfort. I don't think Osman wants us anywhere near River Den.
Speaker 3:Jeric, are you okay?
Speaker 8:I heard it.
Speaker 3:Heard what? What did
Speaker 2:you hear? An an a name, I think.
Speaker 9:Alright, everybody. Getting situated? Everyone's
Speaker 5:Yeah. Yeah. Doing okay?
Speaker 9:I love the dice, Millea. They're they're fantastic. Wow.
Speaker 1:It's cool.
Speaker 3:I like that color. I love it. It's so pretty.
Speaker 9:Is, is D and D working out for everybody?
Speaker 5:Oh, yeah. I have
Speaker 10:to fill in. Yeah.
Speaker 9:I'm not knowing all the details. It's helping me learn in a big way.
Speaker 8:Oh, that's nice.
Speaker 3:It's really helpful.
Speaker 6:I've been
Speaker 8:watching some D and D content and getting everything off of, like, cards and the sheet actual sheet. It seems like a lot.
Speaker 9:Yeah. I think we'd I think we'd be we'd be playing for much more than four and a half to five hours.
Speaker 6:Makes sense.
Speaker 9:Be here much later than 10:30 at night.
Speaker 1:Love that.
Speaker 9:I think does anybody remember where we
Speaker 3:were? Xylophone. What's his name?
Speaker 1:Very It would It would seem.
Speaker 9:Alright. Well,
Speaker 10:the the two of
Speaker 9:you are the four of you
Speaker 1:are all standing down at the at in the town.
Speaker 9:Jerick is catching his breath.
Speaker 1:Dawn crept over Riverden. Our four heroes, Razana, Cynthia, Elowin and Drogon stood still at the gates. Last night's battle a haze of blood and dust in their minds. Sir Jerich Felkemeier had returned shaken but alive and now stood beside them, his breath becoming steady once more. Jerich was collecting his thoughts.
Speaker 2:The the orbs of confluence, we've our texts, we we've had them for generations. They talk about a prophecy where the orbs would would would save us and and summon those who would bring greatness to our land. And that name I heard, Zlinar, I don't know. I I mean, I've heard things here and there. It's like an old myth.
Speaker 2:A tale about when Kelvaris was filled with death and ruin.
Speaker 3:Are we supposed to stop it? Stop its return or something?
Speaker 2:I don't know. And I have no idea who or what was, I don't know, talking to me, but I just I felt outside of my body as if the space I was taking didn't exist. I mean, were noises and murmurs, maybe some other words, but the only word I heard clearly was was Linar.
Speaker 1:The strange name hung in the morning air. Ancient, as if the town itself had gone quiet to listen. The four stood there. He wanted to give them answers. That much was clear.
Speaker 1:But whatever had taken him, whatever had whispered that name into the mystic around him had left him with only fragments. A legend, a prophecy, a fear old enough to have outlived memory. So Derek did what knights do when the world becomes too large to understand. He pointed towards something small, something real. He turned towards the town pointing east.
Speaker 2:Do you know about the Rusty Rudder yet? It's an inn at the edge of the town square, two stories. It's got a nice curved front. That's where I've been given a permanent residence for my services to the Baron.
Speaker 1:He hesitated, realizing he should probably say more. He said with confidence.
Speaker 2:If you ever need safety, you'll find me there. Actually
Speaker 1:From his belt, he drew a stone faintly glowing as if it thirst for the heat of fire.
Speaker 2:Here. I have a I have a better idea. Take a stone. Have you heard of sending stones?
Speaker 3:Yeah. They let users speak to each other over great distances.
Speaker 2:That's right. Yes. Well, this is a variation, I'd say. This fire stone will allow you to speak with someone from any location. It is powered by a fire's heat though, so you have to activate it with flame.
Speaker 2:Once used, it needs about a day to pass before it can be used again. My father gave it to me and I want you to have it. If you ever have any questions, use it to reach out to me.
Speaker 1:He pressed it into Elliman's hands. Jarrett gave them a final nod and then walked back through the gates. His now muddy cloak catching the morning light. The four of them remained where he had left them. Before them, the road stretched away from River Den, open and waiting.
Speaker 1:Back where they had come from, the town began to stir. The choice seemed simple enough. Roads were where heroes went, and towns were where they left from. But none of them moved. Ruzanna looked toward the road first, as if expecting an instruction to announce itself from the trees.
Speaker 1:Cynthia looked at the spot where Jeric had reappeared, studying it as if it too would have an answer. Alwyn held the stone carefully, its faint warmth resting in her palms. And Drogon stood still. His eyes followed the road, then the gates, then the town square of Riverton, a mind measuring what the others were still trying to feel. They had no map, no destination, no proof that the road road ahead held answers, only a prophecy no one understood.
Speaker 1:A name spoken from somewhere between worlds and a town behind them that had summoned heroes without telling those heroes what they were meant to save. No. The others turned to him.
Speaker 4:Standing out here won't do
Speaker 1:us any good. He nodded back towards Riverton.
Speaker 4:We know nothing. Certainly not enough to march off like fools.
Speaker 1:The words settled between the four. Blunt perhaps, but not wrong. Verzana's brow tightened. Cynthia followed Drogon's gaze and something in her expression shifted. The town had called them.
Speaker 1:The town had lied or hidden or feared too much to speak plainly. Either way, the answers were not waiting out on the empty road. Eloyn tucked the firestone safely away. The four looked at each other and almost at the same moment confusion gave way to reluctant agreement.
Speaker 4:We go back in. We learn what we can, then we decide where the road takes us.
Speaker 1:And with that, the four turned away from the open road and stepped once more toward Riordan. Not because it was safe, at least that's not what they told themselves, but because so far, it was the first and only place that had made them suspicious. As they returned to the square, the town began to wake. Almost everyone in sight glanced their way as the heroes slowly reentered. The looks were curious, confused, uneasy.
Speaker 4:Look, up there.
Speaker 1:On the manor roof in the distance, Baron Lockridge and Dargon Stelgrip argued. They weren't even looking down at the town square. The Baron's hands pleaded. Dargon's fists clenched. Whatever they debated, it was not an easy agreement.
Speaker 1:The heroes pressed on, slightly, aimlessly, weaving through merchants lifting shutters, families stepping into the day.
Speaker 3:I think something's up here. Should we talk to people?
Speaker 1:That's a good idea. Drogon looked at the slowly growing crowd. A man was walking by with a small sack turned under one arm. Eyes fixed on the road ahead in the practiced way of someone trying not to notice anything unusual. Drogon stepped into his path and cleared his throat.
Speaker 1:The man stopped so quickly his boots scraped against the stone.
Speaker 4:You there? Any unrest in the area? Anything troubling this town?
Speaker 1:The man looked up, and up, and up.
Speaker 10:Life is good here, but best not ask questions.
Speaker 1:It was not every day an eight foot dragon man asked him about the town, or asked him anything at all.
Speaker 4:That is not an answer.
Speaker 1:The man blinked.
Speaker 10:It was meant to be.
Speaker 4:Then it was a poor one.
Speaker 1:Behind Drogon, Verzana's eyebrows rose. Elowin's face remained still, though her eyes shifted slowly to Cynthia. The man tightened his grip on the sack.
Speaker 10:Look, I'm only trying to get home.
Speaker 4:I'd From where? The market. What did you buy?
Speaker 1:The man looked down at the sack then back up at Drogon as if wondering whether the contents had somehow become military intelligence. Onions?
Speaker 4:Why? For for stew. Is there any unrest in the stew?
Speaker 1:There was a pause. A long one.
Speaker 4:No. Then answer the first question.
Speaker 1:The man's face had gone pale now. Not the pale of guilt, the pale of a man who had woken expecting onions and found himself detained by prophecy.
Speaker 10:Look, Riverden is safe. We have guards. The captain handles trouble. And if there were trouble, I wouldn't know it. And and if I did know it, I wouldn't say it.
Speaker 10:I mean, maybe I would if it would help, but but but if I were going to say it, I certainly wouldn't say it here. Which I didn't.
Speaker 4:You just did?
Speaker 10:No. No, I
Speaker 4:didn't. Well, you implied it.
Speaker 10:But I implied nothing. I I I'm just a man with onions.
Speaker 4:And fear.
Speaker 10:Well, now, yes, but also onions.
Speaker 1:The man took one careful step to the side.
Speaker 10:Please, pardon me.
Speaker 1:Drogon did not move at first. The man took another step. This time, Drogon allowed him to pass.
Speaker 10:It's it's best not to ask questions.
Speaker 1:He moved off quickly, clutching the sack to his chest as though it might protect him. Drogon watched him go, expression unchanged. He looked back at the group, apparently satisfied that the exchange had produced information. The others were less convinced. Cynthia stared at Drogon with the gentle horror of someone watching a campfire spread to a barn.
Speaker 1:She bumped Eloyn on the shoulder.
Speaker 3:Oh, that was a disaster. Yeah. Maybe we could try something a little more subtle.
Speaker 7:Agreed. Over there, the fountain.
Speaker 1:At the square's center, a fountain trickled. A woman filled her jug, her daughter at her side. Cynthia and Elloine nodded. Elloine approached, only slightly taller than the child.
Speaker 3:Excuse me, life seems quiet here. Is it always this way? We do well enough. River Den is no worse than Honey Town. And what about the
Speaker 1:Cynthia glanced at the child looking back up at her. Goblins. The daughter stepped behind her mother's long skirt. The woman's smile flattered, eyes darting.
Speaker 3:Oh, you know, every place has vermin. River Den is no different.
Speaker 1:She looked down at her daughter who was visibly alarmed.
Speaker 3:Oh, I wouldn't say there's any kind threat from Goblins. We're perfectly safe here.
Speaker 1:She touched her daughter's head lightly.
Speaker 3:Anyway, anytime there is some kind of problem, our guards led by captain Stalgrip take care of it. Wait. Wait. Wait.
Speaker 1:Vrzana took a step forward.
Speaker 3:Dargon Stalgrip?
Speaker 1:The woman looked past Elowin and Cynthia studying Vrzana.
Speaker 3:That's the one.
Speaker 1:She had never seen a tiefling before. She forced a smile.
Speaker 3:If I may, what brings the four of you to our humble town?
Speaker 7:We were brought here by the orbs of Confluence.
Speaker 1:Another woman walking by in earshot looked up. Cynthia noticed and the woman continued on her way.
Speaker 3:You're the heroes?
Speaker 1:Apparently, Drogon muttered from the back of the group.
Speaker 3:Well, I must admit you're not what I expected.
Speaker 1:Her tone softened. Her daughter looked up at the group with a new curiosity.
Speaker 3:Is this all of you? I thought there was to be five. I see twelves, a dragonborn, and what are you, dear?
Speaker 1:Verzana took one more step forward, standing just behind Cynthia.
Speaker 3:My name is Verzana. Of course, and I apologize. I don't think I recognize your your look. Rosanna is a tiefling and there's only four of us. I see.
Speaker 3:Well, I wish you luck and I I really must be going.
Speaker 1:The woman was kind, but moved on as if eager to be done with the conversation. Her daughter looked back once, not with fear exactly, but with the wide eyed curiosity children have before they learn what they should and shouldn't be afraid of. The heroes regrouped. They had been called many things in less than than a day. Strangers, saviors, heroes, maybe even mistakes.
Speaker 1:Riverton's prophecy had promised five shining answers. Brave and certain, shaped like the stories people told when they wanted to believe the world made sense. But standing in the square were only four. Tired, confused, summoned but aimless. The orbs had opened a door for them, Riverton had not.
Speaker 1:The town's eyes held only suspicion. All four felt it. Outsiders, all of them. And perhaps worse than outsiders, disappointments.
Speaker 3:No one here really seems to want us. Except for maybe Sir Jeric and that Caelin guy, I guess. Oren's father. He said we'd find him at his son's shop.
Speaker 4:If the boy really meant for us to have these bedrolls, maybe he's worth meeting.
Speaker 1:So they turned east, following the curved streets of Riverton towards the row of shops. A block or two away from the corner of the square, a small building stood with a painted sign. Needle and thread worked into the shape of a sail. Orin's seamworks.
Speaker 3:There There we are.
Speaker 1:The shutters were drawn. A scrape of parchment was pinned to the door.
Speaker 3:Closed until further notice. Be back soon. Closed. I mean, Kalen did say he was up north gathering supplies. So nobody's here?
Speaker 1:Verzana said as she pressed her face and hands up against one of the windows of the shop. Peering through the window, she could make out a large counter in the middle. Fabric and some supplies were still strewn about.
Speaker 4:We're we're wasting time.
Speaker 1:The four exchanged glances. Behind the glass, the shop sat in uneasy stillness. Fabric lay across the counter. Thread waited in small wooden spools. In Riverton, even the empty places seemed to know the town's favorite answer.
Speaker 1:Say little, reveal less. Smile if you must, but never long enough to invite another question. A man across the street slowed as he passed. He saw the heroes looking in, then quickly found somewhere else for his eyes to be. A woman pulled a
Speaker 4:child
Speaker 1:closer. A shutter closed somewhere nearby. One by one, the small sounds gathered around them. Not danger, not yet, but something colder than danger. Avoidance.
Speaker 1:Every answer in Riverton led to a door. Every door led to a lock. And every lock seemed to say the same thing. Whatever is wrong here, it's easier to leave it unnamed. Unnamed.
Speaker 4:This whole place feels like it's holding something back.
Speaker 3:Well, then we move on. Jeric and Oren's father mentioned the Rusty Rutter.
Speaker 4:I saw it near the front of the square. Why don't we circle back? For now, we should make sure at least one person wasn't lying.
Speaker 3:What do you mean?
Speaker 4:Well, Kalen said his son was gone. Seems to be the case. Kalen also said that if he wasn't here, he'd be at the inn. Let's go make sure he is.
Speaker 3:Okay.
Speaker 1:So the group headed back to the front of the square, taking smaller side roads this time. At the bend of Riverton's Eastern Street, where the cobbles dipped towards the river, the rusty rudder came into view. A two story inn with a curved side, its windows glowing warm despite the midday sun. A wooden balcony jutted above the entrance, shutters thrown wide, and the faint smell of spiced ale drifted through the air. The four heroes paused, gazing at its sturdy walls and crooked sign.
Speaker 1:Unlike the weary streets behind them, the rudder looked alive. Lanterns lit, voices spilling from within, as though daring them to belong.
Speaker 4:Finally, a place that looks like it doesn't hate us.
Speaker 1:No one answered him, not because they disagreed. Behind them, Riverdens still carried the weight of lowered voices, turned backs, and windows that seemed to darken the moment the heroes passed. Every street had watched them. Every conversation had bent away from them. Every answer had come wrapped in a warning.
Speaker 1:But the rusty rudder was different, at least from the outside. Warmth pressed against the windows. Shadows moved behind the glass. Somewhere inside, someone laughed too loudly at a joke that had probably grown worse with every cup. It was ordinary, almost painfully ordinary.
Speaker 1:And after a morning of prophecy, suspicion, and people pretending fear had no name, ordinary felt like a kind of magic.
Speaker 4:Warm rooms can hide cold people.
Speaker 1:His eyes stayed on the door. Cynthia looked up at the carved balcony, taking in the work of human hands shaped by river, wind, and time. Verzana's hand drifted near the lyre at her back. None of them stepped forward, not yet. The crooked sign swung in the breeze.
Speaker 1:The painted letters were worn, but legible. The rusty rudder. A safe place, Jerick had said. Maybe. But Riverden had already taught them that safety and welcome were not the same thing.
Speaker 4:Alright. We go in. We listen. We leave if we have to.
Speaker 1:The others gave no argument. One by one, they moved closer. Up the worn stone step, beneath the crooked side, toward the smell of smoke, ale, and roasted meat. Cynthia's hand touched the door's handle and the world held its breath. They stepped through the heavy oak doors into a hall of timber and stone.
Speaker 1:The rudder's curved front wall was lined with windows, sunlight point across long tables scarred by years of meals and spilled drink. The smell of wood smoke, ale and roasted meat clung to the air. Though, no one greeted them. No innkeepers stood at the door. It did seem like the kind of place that might not need one.
Speaker 1:Yet 10, maybe 15 patrons dotted the room. Farmers, dock hands, traders, already deep into their cups though the day had only begun. Suspicious eyes followed the four strangers as they entered. Near the rudder's curved windows sat Caelin Vorthos surrounded by six others. Dockhands, merchants, old fishermen, all half turned toward him as he spoke with the excitement of last night still burning in his voice.
Speaker 6:Well, well, well. There they are. The ones I told you about, our heroes summoned by the orbs themselves.
Speaker 1:His companions turned curious, not hostile, not yet, but uncertain. Caelin waved them over grinning ear to ear.
Speaker 6:Oh, oh, please here. Come on, heroes join us.
Speaker 1:The four stepped closer. They did not sit, there was little room at the crowded benches anyway. But standing there, they couldn't help but take it all in. Cynthia's eyes lifted to the beams above carved with river symbols, waves, gulls, fishing nets. She breathed in the smell of the cooking fire and couldn't help but feel that the building itself was alive with memory.
Speaker 1:Elowin's gaze caught an old stand in the corner where instruments rested on a shelf. A cracked fiddle, a dented lute, a drum worn thin. It was clear that music lived here once and she wondered if it still did as she eyed Verzana's lyre strapped to her back. Verzana's eyes however moved with calculation. Stairs to the 2nd Floor, a storage door behind the counter, windows on the curve of the wall, every exit noted, every distance measured.
Speaker 1:Drogon said nothing, but his nose twitched at the scent of roasted meat. His eyes lingered on the bar, mugs lined up like soldiers, barrels stacked three deep, a place that promised strength in a tankard. The locals shifted as the strangers loomed near the table, their voices dipping to a hush.
Speaker 6:You see, I told you, brave folks, whether they ask for it or not, you have no idea of the honor we've got here. I saw them myself last night. Heroes summoned by the orbs. My own son, Oren, stitched their bedrolls.
Speaker 2:Heroes? Now look at
Speaker 6:What? Don't matter how they look. The orbs chose them. That's good enough for me.
Speaker 1:He leaned in.
Speaker 6:Though, I thought he'd be long gone on the road by now. I'm sure you have your reasons. Come. Here. Sit, over here.
Speaker 1:Caitlyn moved himself to an empty table nearby and spoke loud enough for the entire room to hear.
Speaker 6:You will not stand alone in this house, now will I have breath.
Speaker 1:The murmurs quieted, but the stairs remained. Still, for the first time since their summoning, the four had found a roof, a hearth, and at least in Calin, something that looked like a friend. The locals watched, half curious, half skeptical, but said nothing more as our heroes set themselves down at a table along the curved interior of the main dining area. Caelin smiled caringly. He waved a dismissive hand toward the other patrons.
Speaker 6:Pay them no mind. Look Riverton folk don't take to change quickly, but I'm glad you're here.
Speaker 1:The weight of eyes on their backs reminded them they were still strangers here.
Speaker 6:Oh, come on. Don't let them shake you. Look, let's let's order you something to drink.
Speaker 1:He looked around but couldn't find the inn's server. It was obvious that everyone was stealing glances at them through the tops of their upturned mugs.
Speaker 6:Hey, what's wrong with all of you? We didn't know what we were getting.
Speaker 4:We knew we were getting heroes.
Speaker 1:One man said smugly.
Speaker 6:And that's what we got.
Speaker 1:He looked at the four.
Speaker 6:We don't know them, not really, not yet. But just look at them.
Speaker 1:He turned first toward Drogon.
Speaker 6:You see scales and teeth and shoulders wide enough to block the door and you think, well, that's not what I pictured.
Speaker 1:A few patrons glanced toward Drogon and then quickly back into their mugs.
Speaker 6:I see someone who looks like he could stand between Riverden and whatever comes charging for it. Someone who doesn't need to smile to be brave. Someone who watches before he moves.
Speaker 1:Kalen shifted his gaze to Cynthia.
Speaker 6:And her. You see quiet eyes and pointed ears and think she looks too gentle for trouble?
Speaker 1:He gave a small laugh, not mocking, but warm. I've lived
Speaker 6:long enough to know that gentle folk can be the hardest to break. There's courage in a person who can look at a frightened town and still choose kindness. Don't mistake calm for weakness. Right? That's how fools get surprised.
Speaker 1:Then he looked to Elwyn, who sat almost swallowed by the size of the room around her.
Speaker 6:And this one, small, yes. Quiet, yes. But some people make noise because they're empty. Others keep quiet because they're listening.
Speaker 1:A few of the locals shifted. I'm comfortable now in a different way.
Speaker 6:You? You want a hero who pays attention? Who notices the thing everyone else missed? I'd wager good coin she's already seen more in this room than half of us meant to show.
Speaker 1:Finally, Kaylen turned to Verzana.
Speaker 6:And her.
Speaker 1:The room seemed to tighten around the word.
Speaker 6:You see horns? A tail? Maybe a face you weren't taught to trust when you were small and scared and listening to stories told by people who were small and scared before you.
Speaker 1:His voice softened, but did not lose its strength.
Speaker 6:I see someone sitting here anyway, chin up, shoulders square, in a town full of people staring like she's the problem. She hasn't once asked to be smaller so the rest of us can feel comfortable.
Speaker 1:Caelin looked back at the patrons. The end have gone quieter now, listening.
Speaker 6:So no, maybe they don't look like the heroes from the songs. Good. The songs are old. Alright, maybe heroes look different when the world needs something different.
Speaker 1:He looked again at the four, and for the first time, his smile was not just cheerful, it was certain.
Speaker 6:We don't know them yet, but the Ords chose them. And until they prove otherwise, I say we give them a chance to show us why they're brave.
Speaker 1:A gristled older man stood up from a table across the room.
Speaker 8:Brave? Maybe. But if your heroes tell us this, what are you protecting us from? You seen any trouble out there?
Speaker 1:The older man had made his way to the hero's table. Cynthia and Verzana spoke with newfound courage.
Speaker 3:Trouble? Goblins, maybe?
Speaker 1:One man shifted uncomfortably staring into his mug. Another woman shook her head quickly.
Speaker 3:No more than any Tamsise. We're just dealing with a little vermin.
Speaker 8:Vermin don't break into stores at night. Don't raid carts along the river or keep wolves as pets.
Speaker 1:The old man looked at the four. He had a sparkle in his eye. Was he attacking them, or helping them, or testing them?
Speaker 11:Alright. Best not steer fear where there isn't any.
Speaker 3:Yeah. Witt and Steve safe.
Speaker 4:Safe?
Speaker 1:Then why the whispers? The old man turned back to the group, twisting his mouth as if he knew more and was deciding if he should share.
Speaker 8:I hope you've been chosen for something far more threatening. But I'll tell you, across the water is an island. Folks around here call it Goblin Island.
Speaker 1:Another local overheard and stood.
Speaker 5:That's not what it's called. Don't fill their heads with old tales.
Speaker 8:Call it what you like, but we all know the truth. The Goblins live there, have for years. It didn't start that way. Before any of us were alive, that island housed a massive underground mine. In fact, that's how River Den got its name, and it rose to be the town that it is now.
Speaker 8:Exports were taken from the mine and sent downriver. We don't mine anymore, but we still participate in humble trade. The mines rotted away, and eventually the Goblins moved in. And now, when they stir, so does the island, so does our town. You sense any stirring?
Speaker 1:The old man's words about Goblin Island or whatever it was called lingered like smoke curling into the minds of the four. As if he had said enough, the old man set his mug on the counter and left the inn. Around the rudder, mugs lowered, chairs creaked. A few patrons looked toward the windows as though the island itself might be waiting just beyond the glass. No one laughed now.
Speaker 1:Even Caelin's smile had thinned. He looked at the heroes. Then back at the room full of people pretending they had not just heard the truth spoken plainly. Well. He cleared his throat trying to bring some warmth back into the room though even he could feel the chill the old man had left behind.
Speaker 6:You've you've heard enough from old tongues maybe. But old tongues aren't always wrong.
Speaker 1:A few patrons shifted uncomfortably.
Speaker 6:Look, I won't tell you what road to take. It wouldn't be right. You've had enough people pointing at destiny, myself included a bit. I'm I'm sorry.
Speaker 1:His eyes softened.
Speaker 6:But if there's truth to what he says, if the island is stirring and the river's gone quiet because folks are afraid to sail near it, well, that's worth knowing.
Speaker 1:Kaylin glanced toward the eastern windows, toward the direction of the harbor.
Speaker 6:My Orin would know what to make of it.
Speaker 1:The name changed to something in his face. Pride, worry, and a father's habit of pretending one was not swallowing the other.
Speaker 6:I wish he were here to meet you properly, I I do.
Speaker 1:He gave a small laugh, fond and aching.
Speaker 6:That boy's not mine by blood, but don't let anyone tell you that matters. He's my son in every way that counts. Clever hands, good heart, head in the clouds in all the right ways.
Speaker 1:His grin returned for a moment.
Speaker 6:He'd have liked you, I think. And he'd have wanted to help. Ornn's the sword who sees a hole in someone's cloak and patches it before asking whether they can pay. Riverdan could use more of that.
Speaker 1:Calen looked at the four again with the care of someone sending strangers toward trouble because no one else will go.
Speaker 6:Truth is, part of me wishes he was standing with you. Not not because I want him in danger, no father wants that.
Speaker 1:He lowered his voice.
Speaker 6:But because if heroes are what this town needs, why be proud to see my son counted among them?
Speaker 1:For a second, the room was still. Caelin's face changed.
Speaker 6:Look, don't let Riverton's stairs weigh you down. You've more friends than you think. And if the river is where the whispers lead, then maybe the river is where you start listening.
Speaker 1:He clasped Verzana's shoulder, nodded to Cynthia and Elowin, and gave Drogon a grin that almost matched his own.
Speaker 6:You'll find your way. You'll see.
Speaker 1:The four did not answer right away. They looked toward the door, then toward the windows where the pale midday light leaned in from the direction of the river. The questions had gathered around them long enough. Now,
Speaker 4:at
Speaker 1:last they had a direction. The group collected themselves and decided to head out. As they moved toward the door, sir Jerich Felkermeier appeared at the foot of the stairs adjusting his quilted gambinson. Verzana noticed him first. He had changed.
Speaker 1:He was wearing a surcoat bearing Riverdin's colors, chainmail at the shoulders peeking through and a sword belt slung casually at his hip. No helmet, no full plate, just enough to remind everyone he's still a knight. His eyes widened slightly at the sight of them.
Speaker 2:Still here? I half expected you to be out on the road by now.
Speaker 3:We're weighing our options.
Speaker 1:He gave a slow nod, eyes kind but steady.
Speaker 2:I see. Well, good. You should follow your instincts. This isn't a path to take blindly. Just remember what I gave you.
Speaker 1:His eyes flicked to Elowin. He stepped in a little closer as if to share a secret.
Speaker 2:The Firestone, it'll carry your words to me once a day. If you need me, I'll be here.
Speaker 1:He turned waving toward the server who had reappeared.
Speaker 2:For now, I'll settle for a hot meal. Go where you must and I hope what happened to me doesn't happen to any of you. Please be careful.
Speaker 1:His eyes met with Cynthia's as he passed. And just like that, he was part of the cloud of patrons, while the four stepped out into Riverdin's light.
Speaker 4:Rivers. I'd like to check the harbor.
Speaker 3:We've seen it off in the distance all day. Yeah. No problem here. Let's head down then. I think I saw at least one ship docked.
Speaker 1:The air sharpened with the scent of the river as they walked down toward the harbor. The rudder's warmth fell behind them, replaced by the quiet rhythm of water lapping against wood and a slight mist in the air. The docks stretched wide, but only one medium sized ship was moored. Its sails were furled, ropes tied fast, and a lone man worked the deck carrying crates from a cart to the hull. The gulls wheeled overhead, their cries echoing on stone.
Speaker 1:Empty slips yawned like mouths along the water, waiting for trade that used to be but never came. It felt as though River Den itself was waiting.
Speaker 3:Strange. For a town of this size, I'd expect more ships.
Speaker 4:Or more guards. I don't see any here.
Speaker 1:The harbor was still with only the one ship tied to the dock. Its hull was stout, patched but proud, and the lone man working its deck. His hair was streaked with gray, his hands scarred by rope and salt.
Speaker 3:Hello. Working alone today?
Speaker 5:Witt. Yep. The Amateur crew's on hire. Most of them should arrive in a couple days. Till then, it's just me, me and Betty Boohoo.
Speaker 3:Betty Boohoo?
Speaker 1:The man walked down onto the dock to meet the heroes and rested his hand on the ship's hull.
Speaker 5:A name's a name and this ship has carried me through storms worse than tears. Strongest vessel you'll find on this river.
Speaker 4:It doesn't seem like there's much traffic here.
Speaker 5:Well, there's still trade enough,
Speaker 3:you
Speaker 5:know, to keep River Den fat and happy, but much in the harbor lately, it's true. Fewer sails on the horizon. Traders, they don't like risks.
Speaker 3:What kind of risks?
Speaker 5:Don't know myself, but there's been trouble along these parts of the River. Gremlins, you might say. You know, stock disappearing. Do
Speaker 3:you know anything about this town?
Speaker 5:Oh, a bit. Yeah. Yeah. It's a regular stop for most trade ships, and usually that is.
Speaker 3:Do you know anything about this town having any kind of problem with Goblins?
Speaker 1:Goblins? Lyran stood up straight, caught by the question. His eyes narrowed, uncertain.
Speaker 5:Well, not in Riverdale, you know. Though it would account for the missing inventory some experience. I don't know. I'm not, you know, really from here, of course. You you understand that.
Speaker 3:Do you know anything about how to deal with Goblins?
Speaker 5:A bit. Yeah. I've I've dealt with the beast before. Stood away on my ships more than once.
Speaker 1:His face creased with memory. Half sneer, half caution.
Speaker 5:They're cowards by nature. Sneaky.
Speaker 1:He squinted at the four, head tilting.
Speaker 5:Why ask? You think Rivendon's got a Goblin Problem?
Speaker 3:It's a theory. Rumors, whispers. People here won't say much, but something's stirring.
Speaker 1:Nerand studied them, then gave a slow weary nod before grabbing another box of supplies to bring on board. As he walked away, a breath passed. No one spoke. Only the river answered, lapping softly against the dock posts. Rope creaked against wood.
Speaker 1:Somewhere above them, galls cried out and vanished into the white sky. All morning, River Den had spoken around the truth. In the square, it had worn a polite smile. At the shop, it had hidden behind a closed door. In the rudder, it had whispered from the bottom of a mug.
Speaker 1:And now, at the harbor, the truth dodged by way of empty slips where ships should have been, in quiet water where trade should have moved. In one tired captain loading cargo alone and pretending the river was only a river. Perhaps Riverton had not been lying. Perhaps it had been begging for the lie to become true, but fear once fed long enough does not stay buried. It learns the roads, it learns the alleys, it learns the shape of a town that refuses to speak its name.
Speaker 1:Then, from somewhere up the road, the silence broke. You. Two goblins crested the hill, their crooked blades flashing in the sun. At their side, two wolves stepped low, teeth bared, snarled, curling through the harbor air.
Speaker 12:You're not welcome here.
Speaker 1:The man on the ship looked up.
Speaker 5:Goblin's this bold? Here? In broad daylight?
Speaker 1:His eyes darted from the hill to the heroes, then back again. The warmth in his face drained away, replaced by sharp fear.
Speaker 5:No. No. No. That's not right. You come asking about goblins and then just like that, goblins come screaming down to my dock?
Speaker 1:He took another step back, one hand finding the railing of Betty Boohoo behind him.
Speaker 5:You said rumors, whispers, a theory.
Speaker 1:He pointed up the road.
Speaker 5:But that doesn't look like a theory to me.
Speaker 1:The wolves snarled again. Lerand flinched hard.
Speaker 5:What? Are you with them? No. Wait. You know what?
Speaker 5:Don't even answer that. I wanna know. I I don't want any of this.
Speaker 1:His gaze flicked towards his ship, toward the hatch in the deck, toward the only place that still looked safe.
Speaker 10:But whatever trouble you brought with you, it's
Speaker 5:not boarding my ship. Alright? Betty Boohoo has survived storms, pirates, rot, and two different men named Clarence, but she's not dying today because four strangers asked the wrong question at the wrong time.
Speaker 1:Panic overtook him. Liern scrambled to a hatch in the main deck and pulled it open vanishing inside. Today,
Speaker 10:not today.
Speaker 1:And just like that, they were alone on the dock. Behind them, the Betty Buhu sealed itself in fear. They were cornered. Before them, the hill held teeth and steel. There was no Jeric, no Kaelin, no room full of doubtful patrons, no town left to question.
Speaker 1:Only the four of them, four strangers mistaken for heroes. Four names the orbs had carried into Riverton. And now, with the river at their backs, and the first true threat of their new ready to charge toward them, there was nowhere left to hide from the question Riverton had been asking all morning. Were they heroes or only the ones that had arrived?
Speaker 9:And you're sitting there staring at two wolves and two
Speaker 1:goblins. Lerand is nowhere to
Speaker 3:be found. He left. Right.
Speaker 9:Right down into the ship.
Speaker 3:What a coward.
Speaker 9:Well, I mean, you're all learning a lot. It's a mysterious town, isn't it, a little bit? There's a lot of, like no one's really giving you a straight answer yet. Yeah. But also, like, you're finding little things from each person too.
Speaker 8:True. I
Speaker 9:think I think for tonight, it's getting pretty late, and and and we can all see that maybe possibly some action is coming up after this. Yes. I think I think we call it here. I'll see you all in the next session.
Speaker 3:Yep. Mhmm.
Speaker 1:Get home safe and the rest.
Speaker 12:Sounds good. Oh my god.
Speaker 5:Thank you again.
Speaker 7:Alright. Alright.
Speaker 1:Next time on Legends Awakened.
Speaker 12:You're not welcome here.
Speaker 3:Oh, no. You don't. Out? Like, dead? I think I can get to her.
Speaker 4:Let me help.
Speaker 12:I'm gonna make some nice leather armor out of your scales. Eluin? Eluin!
Speaker 4:The potion. Be ready.
Speaker 3:Look out. An arrow.
Speaker 8:Not want, kept, force.
Speaker 3:Then help us, please.
Speaker 8:Want, but not right to betray.
Speaker 11:I was about to close for the night, but please come in, come in. Don't drip on the chain mail though, please. Whatever waits beyond Rivendell, it will try to change you. Listen to me, heroes. Don't let it define you.
Speaker 1:You've been listening to Legends Awakened episode three, The Goblin Problem. Created, written and produced by me, David Geisler. Starring in order of appearance, David Geisler as the narrator and himself. Michelle Sayre as Cynthia and herself, Millea Errel as Elliwyn and themselves, Jay Bexell as themselves and Fagan Stalg, Madyson DeJausserand as Verzana, Marley Galnares as Meredith, the woman at the fountain, Spencer Morgan as FTSE the Goblin. And special guest, T.
Speaker 1:C. De Witt from the podcast, The Studio Demands It, as Quentin Shaw, the old man at the inn. Other voices and characters performed by David Geisler. Sound design and editing by David Geisler. Legends Awakened is produced by Six Five Media with special thanks to Matt Cunningham and the School of Communication and Culture at Columbia College Chicago.
Speaker 1:The story, characters, locations and events depicted in Legends Awakened are original works created for a tabletop role playing campaign. Originally dungeon mastered by David Geisler and played by Jay Bexell, Michelle Sayre, Jeff Sayre and Olivia Querer. I'd like to note that any resemblance to names, characters or locations found in other works of fiction or real life is purely coincidental. If you enjoyed the show, follow the podcast and share it with a fellow adventurer. You can find information about other episodes, character bios and links to all of our social media accounts at legendsawakenpodcast.com.
Speaker 1:Thank you so much for listening. We'll see you in the next episode and until then, not every monster charging down the hill needs to be your enemy.