power, but now he doubted that he would have been able to succeed. Temken had not lived for decades here in the bayou, adapting to the darker side. He had never come to terms with the shadow, the way he somehow knew that Gwenna had. To hold it within himself would almost certainly have killed him.
He still wondered at the shadow's origins and what exactly governed its existence now, but those were questions to which he doubted he would ever have answers. Whatever the shadow had been or was, Gwenna had known it long enough to identify its basic nature. It hated, yes. But it also needed. It needed the elves in the bayou to feed off of, to survive. But even if it existed outside Gaea's embrace, the shadow could still be made to obey her laws when it intruded upon nature's world. But the price… Temken bowed to Gwenna's resolve and silently thanked her for the sacrifice she made.
As if awakening from a long nightmare, elves stumbled from their huts or rose from their lethargic positions. Some did not rise and never would again. They were part of Gaea's price, exacted so that others might live and bring life into the world again. Most were crying, the pain on their faces was the first real sign of animation Temken had seen.
'Assemble quickly,' he said, voice thick with emotion. 'We must leave the bayou.'
A few thought to move toward Gwenna, hands reaching out in sympathy, but Temken stepped in front of them.
'Go,' he commanded. 'Gaea will watch over her.' They grabbed what few traveling articles they could find in moments.
Temken turned back and saw that Gwenna was nearly lost to him. Her green eyes dimmed, as she turned her energies to the inward battle.
'This day,' he said softly, willing her to hear, 'you have absolved yourself of any blame an elf might still have held for you, Gwenna. There is no greater gift than life.'
He gently took her by the shoulders and eased her to the ground near his orchid. Her face and the flower both recovered a spot of color before they began to fade again, this time more slowly.
'Let the orchid sustain you for as long as possible, and Gaea will bring you to her before it can hurt you again,' Temken said. Before he could think the better of it, he spoke the name he had denied his lips for too long. 'Argoth will rise again,' he promised Gwenna. 'We will rebuild.'
In a gray-lit clearing, completing a rough circle of dark and abandoned huts, Gwenna sat upon water-laden ground with her back to the heart of the bayou. An icy rain began to sprinkle down, spattering against pools of water and slowly churning the ground. The orchid's lavender pistils dripped water into the flower's cup, and petals sagged with the extra weight. The irregular rhythm of its wash played accompaniment to the gusting wind that rubbed branches together and sawed at the long grasses. The rain carried with it the hint of brine, borne in from the not-too-distant ocean. It was a clean scent.
Gwenna continued to hum Gaea's song. In her mind, the shadow grew stronger as it warred with nature's memory-her memory of Argoth. The elves had left. Animals died. Forests were stripped away, the land itself sunk from sight, rolled over by oil-slicked water. The air grew cold and tasted stale. But even as the shadow finally slipped away, exuding rage in its newfound strength and ready to feed upon her remaining life, the land rose once more within her mind. Plant and animal and elf returned as the memory flourished. Argoth rose. With the last of her strength Gwenna allowed herself to slip away into the memory, carried on Gaea's song and her promise- that life would always follow.
Red
Red is the color of release, the hue of outward expression and excitement. It is hard to be indifferent about red. It may be loved or feared, but it is seldom disregarded. It is characterized as aggressive, vigorous, and given to impulse and mood. Those associated with red are sometimes accused of lacking patience or possessing a quick temper, but red also embodies a fervent passion and feeling for fellow beings. Red is signified by fire, blood, lava, and emotion. It manifests itself as bursts of outward expression and outspoken tirades. Red characterizes those who know what needs to be done and aren't afraid to do it, for those who want results and action instead of deliberation and debate, for those who like the cathartic pleasures of flame.
Goblinology
Introductory note by Armand Ar-basinno, instructor of popular culture and goblinology at the Argivian University and author of Studies in Goblin Culture; The Goblin Ruins at The Flarg: Their History and Exploration; and Squee: A Study in Popular Mythology.
[Note in margin: Squee, Squee, Squee! According to Ar-basinno every goblin is named Squee! L. B.]
It is my privilege to present to the public a very remarkable document, recently discovered in the ruins of The Flarg and edited and annotated by myself, with some minor assistance by Latavino Bar-bassanti, who, unfortunately, departed from the university before the project could be completed. I may add that I regard this task as the crowning achievement of my extensive work on the history and development of goblin culture, and that the document confirms the conclusions to which I, in the face of opposition from so many of my colleagues, had already come.
[Note in margin: A silly, self-satisfied conclusion by an overblown windbag! L.B.]
It has, of course, been my contention for a number of years that the goblins of The Flarg were polytheists, worshiping a variety of gods to whom they made regular sacrifices. Prior to the discovery at The Flarg of the document below, however, little specific information was available concerning goblin religious rituals. Thanks to my work on this document, combined with the extensive body of writing I have bequeathed to the learned community as my legacy, future historians and goblinologists will have little trouble in filling in the gaps along the trail I have already blazed.
In point of fact, I had already developed the theory of goblin religion in my well-known and, if I may say so, remarkable book The Apostles of Squee: Deconstructing Goblin Religious Discourse and Perception in the Age of the Great Cold (Argivian University Press).
[Note in margin: Well known, indeed! The book was remaindered within thirty days, and housewives all over Terisiare used it as a doorstop. The only thing remarkable about the book was the fact that Ar-basinno managed to spread his lunatic 'theory' over two thousand pages. In fact, Ar-basinno was almost fired from his position when, while presenting a copy to the chancellor, he dropped it and broke the poor man's ankle. The chancellor spent two weeks in bed, and Ar-bassino made the rounds of faculty parties in Argive, explaining that the university official had been struck by the weight of his arguments. L.B.]
It is not out of place here to briefly summarize this theory:
[Note in margin: The gods preserve us! L.B.]
In ancient times, during the Age of the Great Dark and Cold that followed hard upon the disastrous era of the Brothers' War, goblins at The Flarg formed a vast and powerful community. It is clear from the extensive ruins at The Flarg that they were a politically influential race, deep in learning, strong in arms, universally respected throughout much of Dominaria. Great goblin fleets ploughed the seas, and goblin ornithopters swept through the clouds, driving the enemies of the goblin empire before them.
[Note in margin: Here we go again! Ar-basinno used to propagate this story in the pubs around the university, usually late in the evening when he'd had eight or nine glasses of Korlisian wine. For this reason, he was known throughout the university as 'old goblin head.' L.B.]
In this age, a cult grew up among the goblins centered on the worship of a deity known as 'Squee.' This fact accounts for the extensive use of this as a name among the goblins of The Flarg (and indeed in the goblin communities through the rest of Dominaria). The cult of Squee was celebrated in various rituals, which were clearly
