by Grey Arney
“You don’t have enough time to raise an army, but you might be able to muster up a fighting force. You can raise more undead or charm more animals, but neither will produce enough soldiers to defeat the goblins. Your Earth Magic is now high enough that you should be able to create some sort of earth elemental.”
“How would I do that?” asked Arcturus.
“You need to create a body for it and imbue that body with a spirit.”
Lily was not an Earth mage, but she was able to explain the basics of the process.
After a time, their conversation meandered away from practical matters and to the personal. In the end, they were reminiscing of Earth together. The memories were mundane, about road trips, shopping at the mall, or ordering pizza late at night. They fell asleep for a time, in the shadow of the alcove. When Arcturus woke up, she was gone again.
***
Back at the campsite, Arcturus checked on the progress of the structure. There was now a flattened and level area, and the beginnings of a timber frame had been erected. His request to make the structure circular had complicated everything. And with no lumber mill available, the three men would be able to create only a very simple structure, with a roof made out of layers of bark. Still, it would keep the rain out.
The man who had been tasked with tanning the hide had begun the process of soaking it. He had dug a shallow pool along the stream and filled it with water. That process wouldn’t be finished until after the cabin was completed.
“Fish,” he called out to the goblin.
“Yes, Boss?” asked Fish.
“I’m thinking of going to visit the Mudluck clan. Will you come with me?”
“Of course. But they’ll kill you.”
“Don’t worry about me. What about you? Will you be able to go back freely?”
“I think so. I am a goblin, after all.”
“What can you tell me about them?” he asked.
“The player in charge is Badger. I’m not sure what he’s up to, but he’s a nasty one.”
“Have you met him?”
“No. I’ve avoided him. I don’t think he even knows there was another player in camp. He’s really scary. Well, I guess you’ll see. How will you get in?”
“I will transform into a mouse. You can carry me in. I want to learn more about the condition there, and see if I can find a way to stop them from coming this way.”
“Okay, but be careful. If you’re captured, you’ll be eaten. At best.”
“I know. What about the potions I asked you to make?”
“Yes, I’ve made three potions to restore mana and three to restore health. My first attempts didn’t work out well, but I’ve learned that the leaves of the vines around the camp can be mixed in to increase the potion’s power. Now I’ve learned a lot about how to choose the best ingredients, how to grind them up, how much water to add, and things like that. My Alchemy skill has improved.”
Reaching into his bag, Fish produced the potions. Each was in a tiny phial the size of a finger, and contained less than one mouthful of liquid.
You have found: Restore Health Potion (x3)
This potion will restore 10 health per second for a total of 6 seconds (60 health total).
You have found: Restore Mana Potion (x3)
This potion will restore 10 mana per second for a total of 6 seconds (60 mana total).
“Tomorrow morning, we leave for the Mudluck war camp. Get some rest tonight.”
***
At dawn, the pair arose early and ate a meager breakfast before setting out to the Mudluck war camp. Arcturus decided to leave Lyle behind. They might end up kicking the hornet’s nest, and the risk was too high. He spent the 100 mana to transform Fish and himself into Golden Eagles. It only took about a minute. Together they soared through the overcast sky, to the east and then to the south along the lake. The land around the camp was barren and dry. The once-verdant grass turned into the golden color of dried hay that formed a halo around the camp stretching for at least a mile.
Arcturus spotted a position in the hills to the west of the camp that was well-concealed, and they landed there.
After shifting back to their shapes, Arcturus was struck by inspiration. He put his hand on Fish’s shoulder and attempted to copy the goblin shape.
Your Shapeshifting skill is not high enough to learn a humanoid shape.
Well, that was interesting! At some point, it may be possible to shapeshift into a goblin, but that wouldn’t be happening today. Instead, he shifted into a field mouse. Fish scooped his boss up, pocketed him in his pouch, and set off towards the camp.
The previous night, Fish and Arcturus had discussed the plan in depth, including how to handle any unexpected scenarios. Since Arcturus would be in mouse form the whole time, that left everything up to Fish’s judgment.
The plan was simple: a short walk around the inner walls of the camp to get a sense of the conditions there, and then leave.
The goblin camp was surrounded by wooden palisade, with an entrance on each side. As Fish approached the western wall, a pair of guards waved him in with little thought. Once inside the camp, Arcturus carefully poked his rodent head out of the pouch and gathered in his surroundings.
The first thing he noticed was that the goblins were emaciated. Most of them walked around wearing only loin cloths, and bony ribs protruded from their chests. Their stomachs were empty cavities partitioned by angular rib joints. These creatures were hungry.
Besides their semi-starved state, their numbers were astounding. There was no way of counting them, but they seemed to outnumber the residents of Aurora by far more than ten to one. Fish took him on a tour of the camp. Starting towards the southern palisade, they entered the part of the camp dedicated to making war. This quadrant had training grounds with grizzly, scarred goblins that were sparring with real weapons. As they passed by, one felled another with a clumsy strike of an iron sword. Another pair near them displayed a foul crab-like dance as they fought. It was unclear what the rules of engagement were for the practice matches, but from the body parts strewn around the training grounds, it didn’t seem like a big concern.
As they came around to pass the armory, the sound of hammers striking anvils nearly deafened Arcturus’ ears. Long after the fletchers and sword-smiths faded into the distance, he still heard phantom ringing.
Following the wall along the south, they entered an area resembling a marketplace. There were foods piled onto tables, but there didn’t appear to be much. One stall had a sky-high stack of stinking meat, with flies circling above it. Others had sickly plant products, including a stall with a small stack of wrinkled tubers. Hungry goblins on the verge of starvation cowered in the dark corners, but the goods were protected by armed guards who appeared to be relatively well-fed. As they turned the corner heading north, they heard a squeaking sound followed by a sickening gurgle and a crunch. Looking back, Arcturus saw the remains of a tiny goblin waif that had been tossed about like trash. It must have made a desperate, failed attempt at some of the food. As soon as its head stopped sliding across the ground it was collected by another little goblin who scurried away with its prize.
What Arcturus saw next disturbed him more than anything. As they approached the northeastern quarter, long rows of cages spread out all along the distance. Inside these were humans and elves, and even some goblins. There was a short and stout prisoner that must have been a dwarf. Around the cages were rows of meat hooks, upon which swung the remains of former prisoners. All manner of sentient beings were being kept here, and butchered right in front of each other. He tried to count the number of caged beings, but lost track after twenty or so. In all, he estimated there could be up to fifty prisoners.
Fish didn’t linger long in this place, and soon they were heading to the northeastern quarter of the camp, mostly tents. A residential area.
There wasn’t much to see in this quadrant. It was sleepy compared to the others. The initial plan was somewhat successful, and in
just a few more minutes, they would have been safe again outside the palisade, if it weren’t for a bony, green finger that jabbed into Fish’s soft side.
Arcturus tucked his head back into the satchel to avoid being noticed. Outside of the pouch, a squabble among croaking goblins fizzled, simmered, and soon came to a full boil. He couldn’t hear any of the words, but he was sure he heard Fish say nyack—several times. Finally, someone who could tell him what it meant. He’d have to ask later.
The aggressor who’d approached Fish started to shove him and jab at him. But these were petty crimes that stopped short of assault—so far. Fish stepped aside at each advance, attempting to diffuse the situation. At last, he stepped back to evade another jab and tripped over a basket, falling backwards onto the ground, some of his weight landing on the satchel that the Druid was hiding inside.
You suffer crushing damage! You lose 4 hit points.
In mouse form, there weren’t many hit points to spare. Arcturus wormed his way through the pouch and crawled towards the flap, squeezing his way out. He skittered across the packed dirt away from the two lumbering green monstrosities behind him. Without sparing the time to look back, he crawled behind some empty crates beside a hut.
The flimsy home was made of bamboo-like reeds that were strung together in a manner more befitting a raft than a living structure. It was easy enough to find a gap to slip through. The inside of it was suspiciously quiet. Unaccustomed to his mouse form, Arcturus had not yet learned the agoraphobic wisdom of rat-kind, namely that all open spaces are inherently dangerous. He scurried towards the center of the room.
An excited squeal arose from behind him. He was able to see from the corner of his vision a blimp-sized goblin approaching from behind him. It gleefully brandished a knife longer than several times the body length of him. Arcturus surged forward across the room, rushing between the legs of another goblin, and nearly getting trampled by a third. This was not a good place to be.
In a flash, he made it across to the other side of the hut, his mouse vision immediately spotting one of many holes that were nearly invisible to larger creatures. As he pushed himself through to the other side of the wall, the pursuing goblin slipped and slammed its clumsy body into the wall behind him.
Before he could survey his surroundings, a giant’s hand wrapped around him. He sank his tiny mouse teeth into the hand, but it didn’t loosen its grip.
You bite Fish! You deal 1 hit point damage.
Realizing his mistake, Arcturus released the grip of his jaw and allowed Fish to place him back into the satchel.
“Don’t worry,” Fish said quietly. “That was just an old acquaintance of mine. I’ll explain later.”
Then, breaking through the chattering din of daily goblin life, a bugle call echoed from wall to wall.
“It’s rally time,” Fish said. “You’ll want to see this.”
They made their way through the streets towards the large square in the center of the settlement. Goblins were amassing there now, in a horde that churned and roiled as malnourished, little green men clamored over each other to see the dais that rose over the center of the square. In addition to the standard green goblins they had seen everywhere, some of them had tomato-red skin hues, others were dark eggplant-colored, and some were a pale blue, like Fish.
While the assembly was forming, Fish beckoned to Arcturus, and the two climbed up to the top of a goblin barracks in the southwestern quadrant of the village. The roof was empty, as the other goblins were mindless constructs incapable of the inspired thinking required to seek out this vantage point. They were also not prone to stand out from the crowd. It is the nail that sticks up that gets pounded down, and goblins live in constant fear of being pounded. Once he was out of sight, Arcturus shifted into his Golden Eagle form, in order to better see the events unfolding.
An imposing figure began making its way through the crowd, which parted before him as the sea did for Moses in stories of old. It appeared to be a goblin, but it had an unusually tall and broad stature. Its ears were elongated and pointy, protruding up past its gleaming, bald head. One of its eyes was locked in a permanent squint, caused by an axe wound that left a massive scar across the face, beginning above the eye, cleaving right across it and continuing all the way down the gaunt cheek. Both eyes were decorated with stripes of dark crimson war paint that stretched all the way up and across to the back of the skull.
“That’s Badger,” said Fish. For a moment, Arcturus thought he was referring to the animal that the paint resembled. He then remembered the conversation he’d had with Fish prior and realized that Badger was the man’s name. “As I told you before, he’s the leader here. He’s a player, but he’s not like most of the others. You’ll see.”
The imposing figure climbed up to the top of the altar and addressed the teeming throng below. Arcturus couldn’t make out what he was saying, but it was in goblin-speak. The content must have been relatively simple. Without amplification, a man’s voice only carries so far. He would shout a few words, and the crowd would shout the same words in reply. Fish translated a few of the sentences. “Get more food” … “Kill and eat” … “Eat the humans” … “Kill the elves” … it was all just standard maniacal goblin horde stuff.
After a good amount of shouting in this way, the huge man in the center held out his palms, apparently asking for silence. Several goblins continued to shriek excitedly, but when they saw the gaze of their fellows fall upon them, they stopped, but just a note too late. Badger made a motion to the guards in his entourage who then bored through the crowd like termites. Soon, all offending goblins (and perhaps a few innocents) were dragged onto the stage before all. Any who resisted were slapped down by the brutes. The call and response continued.
“Feed good goblins” … “Eat bad goblins!”
Badger drew a long, curved blade that was rusty and incredibly dull. There were even big notches in it where it had been damaged by striking metal or stone. One by one, he had the struggling goblins brought over to him. Forcing the first of these to kneel on the stone steps, he grabbed its hair and lifted its head. The goblin shrieked helplessly, the whites of its eyes gleaming in terror. Badger forced the humanoid to the ground with his foot, so that the captive’s head was just over the first step. Bringing his nasty blade underneath the goblin’s neck, he sawed through it. It took a long time, and the goblin’s shrieks turned into a gut-wrenching gurgling sound as he screamed through severed vocal chords. A river of blood poured down the steps, and the wailing stopped. Badger patiently sawed through the spinal cord and out the other side, cutting the head clean. He dropped it, whereupon it rolled down the steps like a pumpkin, coming to a stop on the third one from the bottom. The goblins in the front row were able to reach it, and they fought over it, biting its ears off. This must be why they had fought so hard for the privilege of front row seats.
“See what I mean?” Fish said. “These are all constructs. There’s no reason for him to do this. He’s sick in the head.”
Without calling for order among the struggling goblins, nor waiting to see how their contest would turn out, Badger repeated the spectacle with the three other goblins, so that each side of the altar had streams of blood flowing down it.
After the fourth execution, the show seemed to be over. He dismissed those present with a single word. Before he walked away, a young goblin called out to him, bowing and prostrating himself before the leader. Badger stopped and listened to what the goblin had to say, then nodded to one of his guards, who reached into a bag and gave the little goblin a whole chicken. Then Badger scanned the crowd for a long time. His gaze locked for an uncomfortable moment on the silhouette of the goblin and eagle standing on top of the barracks.
“Why’s he looking at us?” asked Fish. Careful not to overreact, Fish waited to see what would happen next. They did stand out like a sore thumb on the roof top. No other goblins had tried that trick.
Suddenly, the massive goblin began barking orders! The en
tire horde below clamored into motion. After seeing several goblins brutally executed for minor infractions, the outcome of their capture was clear. The only way to escape would be to fly away. In order to turn Fish back into a Golden Eagle, Arcturus first had to revert to his own human form. As he did that, he could hear shouts below. There were already goblins coming up to meet them. He grabbed Fish by the shoulders and began pouring out the mana to compress him into a bird. Before he could finish, he felt a stinging heat as an arrow impaled his shoulder. He couldn’t breathe!
You have been shot by an enemy arrow! You receive 105 damage.
You have a punctured lung!
He attempted to transform Fish again, but found he was unable to.
You may not use Shapeshifting due to your injury.
Who came up with these rules, anyways?
With impossible speed, green fingers appeared around the precipice of the roof, followed by menacing goblins with deadpan gazes and open, drooling mouths. They were scaling the walls of the building, climbing vertically like lizards. How did they do that? The situation was dire, and he had only a few hit points left.
“I can’t use Shapeshifting,” he told Fish, who had already guessed.
“Can you use your wolf form?” asked the goblin, scanning around himself in all directions as the enemy advanced closer.
“I’m not sure, but I can’t leave you here,” Arcturus replied.
“You have to try. It’s better for at least one of us to get away. Besides, they might not kill me. Yet.” The goblin dropped his weapon and lifted his arms in surrender. “Run if you can. If not, surrender,” advised Fish, as the goblins surrounding them advanced from all directions.
Arcturus considered dozens of pieces of information at once as his panicked brain calculated the conclusion that Fish had already come to. He needed to get away now, and hope that he could come back for Fish later. He ran towards the approaching goblins in a daring leap-of-faith. If his wolf form didn’t work, he would be skewered by their outstretched swords and spears. As they raised their weapons to meet him, he popped into wolf form instantly, dashing between a goblin’s legs before the confused creatures could figure out what had happened.
