Greenways Goblins (Resurrection Quest Book 1)

by Daniel Schinhofen

  “We’re with him,” Harry said as he retrieved his bolts.

  “Oh, good,” the merchant sighed, handing the vial over to Tom. “You are a blessing of the light.”

  “Drink or pour on wound?” Tom asked the merchant.

  “You only ever drink a potion. A salve you apply to the wound.” The man looked confused at the question.

  “Thanks,” Tom said, downing the potion and wincing at the taste.

  “Who are you three?” the man asked. “I’m Greg Russel, merchant.”

  “Tom, Dick, and I’m Harry,” Harry introduced them in turn. “Adventurers.”

  “Ah, yes, the only people who run into danger,” Greg said. His brow furrowed as he frowned. “Wait… your names are Tom, Dick, and Harry?”

  “We’ve heard it a lot,” Dick chuckled. “We’re just your everyday kind of guys.”

  “Except you are adventurers,” Greg shook his head, “the least common job in the world. You must be new, or I would have heard about you. Those names are not what one expects from adventurers.”

  “What kinds of names do you expect?” Tom asked, hacking up a gob of black phlegm. “Oh gods, that’s horrible.”

  “For you three?” Greg hesitated, then shrugged. “I doubt you’ll take offense, given your real names. I would have expected Blooddrinker for you, Shadow or Silentnight for the little one, and maybe Eagleeye for your magi.”

  “Please tell me that’s not real,” Dick winced.

  “Most adventurers take up assumed names, especially if they have families, just in case their deeds ever come back to haunt them,” Greg said as he moved to check on the horses, one of which was holding a leg off the ground.

  “That isn’t going to be an issue for us,” Tom snorted, hacking up another ball of phlegm.

  “Damned things injured Bessy,” Greg muttered, looking at the bloody gash on the horse’s leg. “I’ll need to wrap that and hope she can still do the job.”

  “You’re heading to Greenways, right?”

  “Yes,” Greg said as he went to the back of the wagon. “Care to escort me the rest of the way? I can’t pay much, but I will do my best for you.”

  “We’re heading that way, and shorty could probably use the break from walking,” Tom said as he finished off his water.

  “I’d much rather ride,” Harry nodded as he started to cut the ears off the goblins.

  “Trophies?” Greg asked with a skeptical look.

  “Proof of a job being done,” Dick clarified. “Orbin is paying us. We don’t want him doubting us, and we’d like to get paid in full.”

  “It’s never a good idea to skimp on paying adventurers,” Greg said, starting to wrap the horse’s leg. “I wish I could let her rest, but it would strain Cassie.”

  “How far is it to Greenways from here?” Dick asked.

  “Three hours,” Greg said, glancing at the sky. “With the slower pace, we might make it before nightfall, but it’ll be close.”

  “I can head on to the village and see about borrowing a horse for you,” Dick suggested.

  “No,” Tom said flatly. “No splitting the party.”

  “I’m with him,” Harry said. “While it’s unlikely that there’s another ambush, the risk is still too high.”

  “Okay,” Dick said. “Kind of wish I’d picked up mount now.”

  “Then you’d be missing slip, and that has been too useful,” Harry reminded him.

  “Fair,” Dick said.

  “Okay, we’re good to go,” Greg said as he stood in front of the wagon holding the reins. “I’ll lead them so Bessy feels safer.”

  “I’ll walk with you,” Tom said.

  “I’ll be in the wagon,” Harry said.

  “Sit on the bench, please,” Greg said quickly.

  “Sure,” Harry agreed, climbing up and getting settled.

  “I’ll walk, too. No need to make the horses do more work,” Dick said.

  ~*~*~

  The sun was just setting when they arrived in the village. Several villagers who had been on their way to the inn changed direction when they saw the wagon, rushing over to greet Greg. He returned their greetings and fended off their questions, only saying that he had the three adventurers to thank for being there at all. The friends were hailed as heroes, and the mob began heading toward the inn.

  “Can someone let Orbin know we’re back?” Tom asked the villagers. A young woman rushed off to do as he asked. “Thanks,” he called after her.

  Marie came out of the inn when the mob got closer, “You’re back,” she called out, a broad smile on her face. “I was getting worried.”

  “We’ll tell the story once Orbin is here,” Dick said, “so we only have to tell it all once.”

  “I’ll let Carl and John know you’re back,” Marie said, rushing back into the inn.

  “I notice she didn’t mention Kattie,” Tom said.

  “Probably still stuck in her room,” Dick snorted.

  “Not our problem,” Harry added. “Thanks for the lift, Greg.”

  “A pleasure. Thanks for saving me. I’ll get things settled and then join you inside.”

  “Fair enough,” Dick nodded. “Folks, if you’ll excuse us, we’d like to freshen up some before we tell the tale.”

  The villagers gave the friends room to squeeze past and into the inn. The hunters called out to Harry, who waved back to them. “I’ll be back, want to drop stuff off first.”

  “I have three rooms set aside for you,” Felix said, “which is all of them.”

  “I’ll share a room with Harry,” Dick said. “Your merchant is here.”

  “Oh, thank you,” Felix said, “but he normally stays with Elder Orbin.”

  “Works for us,” Tom said. “Which room?”

  “Room four for you,” Felix said.

  “See you guys in a bit. Dick, if you could hit me with cleaning, please? I’m going to love finding a place with a bath or shower eventually.”

  “Three is for you,” Felix said, addressing Harry. “And that leaves five for you, magi.”

  “Thanks,” Dick said, following the others down the hall, casting occultism as they went.

  A short time later, Tom was stopped by Marie as he left his room. “What’s up?”

  “Dick and Harry are already in our room. Will you please join us?”

  “Okay.”

  Entering the room, Tom gave John and Carl a nod, “How’s it going?”

  “I’m worried about Kattie,” Carl said without preamble. “She isn’t eating now.”

  “I tried talking to her and she yelled at me to get her home, then turned away and refused to talk,” Marie added.

  “What do you want us to do about it?” Harry asked before Tom could voice his opinion on the matter.

  “I’m hoping that if we all talk to her, it might help her accept that we can’t change things, not yet,” Carl said. “I vaguely recall a spell called world breaker that could do almost anything. The problem is that there were only three NPCs that could cast it.”

  “I can learn it eventually,” Dick said, “but you’re talking end level stuff.”

  “Exactly,” Carl nodded. “I want to support your quest to bring Kevin back, but also work on the quest to get Kattie home. I’ll be working with John and Marie to help support you between adventures.”

  “But not going with us yourself?” Tom asked.

  “If I go… I’m not sure Kattie would be okay,” Carl finished lamely.

  “Nothing wrong with not wanting to face death every day,” Harry said.

  “I’ll want you to teach me your spells,” Dick said. “Every extra spell I have gives us a greater advantage.”

  “I agree,” Carl nodded. “I’m not sure I would even want to adventure without Kattie,” he admitted. “You guys know me, I’m a homebody. I write books— I’m not the adventurous type. I’ll do what I can to grow and support you, but from behind walls.”

  “Good books, too,” Tom admitted. “Shitty pen
name, though.”

  Carl rolled his eyes. “Yes, I remember what you said about that at the start.”

  “Is that what you wanted to talk about?” Tom asked.

  “I wanted to know if you guys are good with me being your press agent,” John said. “I’ll take the stories you bring back of your adventures and make them into inn stories and songs. Those and my singing should support the four of us in a town or city, and me using your names will help spread your renown.”

  “Works,” Tom nodded.

  “Seems fair,” Dick added.

  “Sure, you can do that. I think we have to tell this story the first time, though,” Harry said. “I’m not sure we should keep them waiting much longer.”

  “He has a point,” Carl said. “I’ll check on Kattie, then join you all.”

  The friends slowed when they saw the packed taproom. Six empty chairs, the only empty chairs in the room, sat around a table near Orbin and Greg. A few pitchers and plates of food were sitting on the table. The villagers moved aside as they worked their way to the table, making a narrow path for them.

  “I heard you were back. Did things go well?” Orbin asked as Tom started pouring ale.

  “Dick, this is all you,” Tom said.

  Marie was portioning out food and handing the laden plates around. John thanked her, though he barely looked up from the parchment and ink he was setting up, clearly preparing to take notes. Dick took his plate and mug and settled into his chair.

  “Is your other friend not going to join us?” Orbin asked.

  “He’ll be here in a moment,” Harry replied, popping a chunk of chicken into his mouth.

  Anticipation rolled off the watching crowd. Dick sipped his wine, then cleared his throat. “Okay, I’ll start. Y’all just give me some space.”

  The crowd drew back a little bit and Dick began to relay the story of their fights with the goblins. There were gasps and cheers as the tale progressed. Carl joined them at the table part way through the story, and John scribbled rapidly, noting key moments.

  The climactic fight against Gruk left a number of the villagers looking pale as Harry’s wounds were described. When Dick got to the part where Gruk died in that same fire, a loud cheer rang through the inn and even Orbin applauded. He skipped forward to the next day, briefly recounting how the three of them had rushed from the woods to help Greg. At that, the villagers cheered again, a few of them slapping the merchant on the back.

  “There you have it,” Dick said. “There is one thing, though. During Tom’s ‘chat’ with the one goblin, he learned that a band of hoblins drove them from their home, which is what started this.”

  The villagers looked at each other, suddenly worried, and there were several questions and comments directed mostly at Orbin. Orbin gauged the tone of those present and held up a hand. Silence fell in the room.

  “You would be willing to find these hoblins and deal with them, wouldn’t you?” he asked the group of friends.

  “For the right price, of course,” Harry said, allowing Dick a chance to eat and drink. “That reminds me. Tom?”

  Tom pointed at the bundle under his chair. “Here are the ears, as promised.”

  Orbin looked a little pale, and a number of the villagers went green. “How many did you say there were?” Orbin asked, not moving to take the bundle.

  “Fifty or sixty,” Harry replied.

  “I’ll gladly pay you for sixty,” Orbin said hurriedly, “plus a bonus for saving Greg. He’s an old friend.”

  “Sounds good,” Harry nodded. “We’ll also need to pick up some more liquid fire, anti-venom, and other odds and ends. Can anyone here make a smaller crossbow for me?”

  One of the hunters stepped forward, “I might have something, but it’s broken.”

  “We’ll take it,” Harry smiled, “I’m sure it can be fixed.”

  “Can anyone make some leather armor for shorty?” Tom asked.

  “It’ll take me a week, but I could fashion something for his chest, at least,” a woman in the back spoke up.

  “Elder,” Dick said between bites, “we’re going to take a week to gear up, study, and get things ready. We have no idea where the hoblins might be, so it’ll take us time to go out and find them. Once we do, we’ll do our best to exterminate them for you. Considering how much more dangerous they are than the goblins, we’ll need a bit more pay per head.”

  Orbin grimaced, but seeing the villagers all nodding along, he smiled. “Of course. Felix, make sure they’re cared for this week, and I’ll reimburse you once they leave. Annabelle, let me know what that armor will cost, and I’ll cover that as well. Shall we call it three copper per hoblin along with those expenses?”

  “I’d say five, at least,” John spoke up. “They’re well known for being larger and stronger than goblins, and way more cunning.”

  The villagers murmured agreement with John, and Orbin nodded stiffly. “Five copper per, plus expenses. I shall have your pay for the goblins delivered tomorrow.”

  “Fair enough,” Dick nodded.

  “Greg, we’d like to look at your wares tomorrow,” Harry said.

  “More than happy to sell you what I can,” Greg smiled. “Would you prefer a discount instead of coin as my thank you for helping me?”

  “Fifty percent,” Tom said flatly.

  Greg blinked, looking shocked at his suggestion. Dick spoke up quickly, “He, of course, would ask for the moon if he thought you could give it to him. A quarter off will work.”

  “I can agree to that discount,” Greg chuckled. “Had me going for a moment there. Then again, dwarves are known for their bargaining skills.”

  Tom smiled stiffly, “What can I say? It’s in my blood.”

  “Let us celebrate the brave adventurers who risked their lives to end the goblin threat,” John said, getting to his feet and lifting his mug. “This calls for music, drink, and song.”

  A loud cheer followed as John headed for the small makeshift stage and picked up the lute waiting there for him. The next few hours were as John said: full of merriment and good cheer. Harry and Dick went to their rooms after an hour.

  Tom stayed and drank everything the villagers put in front of him, laughing the whole time. He even got into a few arm-wrestling contests with the lumberjacks and farmers, winning almost all of them. Eventually, the party broke up and Tom staggered off to his room with a little help from John and Marie.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The hammering on his door made Tom groan and pull the pillow over his head. “Go away,” he mumbled into the pillow.

  “Dude, we’re going to check out Greg’s wares,” Dick said, opening the door.

  “Stop yelling,” Tom winced.

  “Hungover, huh? I got this,” Dick grinned as he left the room.

  Tom groaned and shifted the pillow just enough to squint against the piercing light. The door of his room stood open, still. Closing his eyes tightly, Tom moved the pillow and sat up in bed. He clutched the edge of the bed with both hands as his head started to swim, swallowing hard against the bile that rose in his throat.

  Hangover? I thought we were healed at sunrise, so why the fuck am I hungover now? What’s the difference between this and Harry’s burns?

  “Drink this,” Marie said softly, gently taking one of Tom’s hands and pressing a cup into it. “Don’t think, just down it.”

  He trusted her, so he slammed back the contents of the mug like he had the whiskey last night. The cold, slimy contents went down and he had to fight to keep them down, dropping the mug as he grabbed the bed.

  Gasping once he felt like he could open his mouth without vomiting, he lifted his head up. “What the fuck was in that?”

  “Egg, whiskey, and juice,” Marie said. “I used to give this to John when he drank to excess when we were younger.”

  “Does it work?” Tom burped and immediately had to fight throwing up again.

  “You’ll feel a bit better soon,” Marie said. “Drink this now,�
�� she added, pushing another cup into his hand.

  “Please tell me it isn’t more of that slop?”

  “It’s not,” Marie laughed softly.

  Tom eyed the cup warily, then took a big drink. He discovered it was the watered-down beer common in the village. He finished the mug and tilted his head, considering. The pain was still there, but it was far from the searing pain it had been. “Thanks. At least I have an idea of what my limit is now. Can’t believe I forgot to hydrate before bed.”