AGoblin'sTale

by Scott

  The woman screamed fearfully. Outside the tent, Blacknail hopped around in pain. Blacknail’s nose had taken the brunt of the hit, and it throbbed painfully. He rubbed his nose, then pinched the end, neither of which really helped at all. The woman continued screaming shrilly, which, on top of everything else, hurt his ears.

  The commotion attracted Saeter and several other bandits. His master calmly took in the sight of the obviously pained hobgoblin and the screams from the tent.

  “Well, what do we have here?” Saeter asked.

  “Sounds like a woman to me,” one of the other bandits replied eagerly.

  “She hit me!” Blacknail whined pitifully to his master.

  “Some man-slaying monster you are. I’m glad none of our prisoners are here to see this. They’re terrified of our killer hobgoblin,” Saeter remarked as he smirked.

  A few of the other bandits chuckled as well. Blacknail gave them a hostile glare, but that only made them chuckle more.

  Saeter turned to the tent and addressed the occupant. “Come out now and you won’t be harmed. Stay in there and you won’t like what happens next.”

  Nothing happened for a few seconds. Then there was a brief ruffling noise, and the woman who had assaulted Blacknail stepped out of the tent. Her hair was long and blond, and her eyes were light blue. Her thin figure and large breasts were covered only by the blanket she had wrapped around herself. One of the bandits whistled appreciatively.

  Blacknail rubbed his sore nose and glared at her. He thought she was ugly, smelly and, stupid.

  The woman was pale and shivering ever so slightly with fear. With wet and glossy eyes, she met the stares of the bandits. She only flinched when she noticed Blacknail glaring at her hatefully. She seemed determined not to let her fear show.

  “And who might you be?” Saeter asked politely. There was a silly smile on his face that Blacknail didn’t recognize.

  “My name is Erissa, sir. I was traveling to Riverdown with some merchants when they were killed by Basghus. He took me prisoner and used me to warm his bed,” she answered with a slight tremor in her voice. “May I ask who you are?”

  She appeared afraid and smelled of fear as well, but Blacknail noticed her give every bandit a brief appraising look. This woman wasn’t helpless.

  “Ah, we’re bandits as well, but of a less crude sort. Who’s this Basghus you speak of?” Saeter replied carefully.

  “He’s the hulking man who leads the bandits here.” The blonde looked weary. She seemed to have disregarded the other bandits and was focusing on Saeter. She stepped toward him until she was within an easy arm’s reach. Then she looked up and met his gaze.

  “Ah, him. He’s dead, so you don’t need to worry,” Saeter told her as he fidgeted and looked uncomfortable.

  “Wha… what are you going to do to me?” Erissa asked.

  “Nothing you haven’t been through before, I’m sure,” one bandit joked.

  Saeter tore his gaze from Erissa and gave the bandit a brief disapproving look. “You’re our prisoner for now, but behave yourself and we’ll drop you off at Riverdown.”

  Erissa looked somewhat, but far from completely, relieved by the older man’s words. “Thank you.” She simpered gratefully as she held the blanket to her chest. “You’re almost one of those noble bandits out of the tales, like the White Raven.”

  “Ah, someone like that, yes,” Saeter replied reluctantly.

  There was an odd pensive tone to the old scout’s voice, but Erissa either didn’t notice or care. His words seemed to calm her, and she smiled at him.

  “Wait a second, I just realized something,” a shorter bandit suddenly blurted.

  “What?” Saeter asked impatiently.

  “According to Herad’s rules, she goes to whoever found her, but that wasn’t you. Blacknail was the one who found her…”

  Everyone, including the woman, turned to look at the hobgoblin. Startled at all the unexpected attention, Blacknail gave them a flat, uncomprehending look back.

  “Then she’s mine until we find somewhere to get rid of her,” Saeter told everyone.

  “Um, how do you know Blacknail doesn’t want her? I mean, there are stories about hobgoblins and women who get lost in the woods,” another bandit asked.

  Erissa suddenly looked terrified. She took another step toward Saeter until she was practically pressed against him. Blacknail’s master smacked the bandit who had just spoken across the side of the head.

  “You’re definitely not a farm boy, or you’d know why those are tall tales. I’m not going to explain the birds and the bees to you, but you should know it doesn’t work that way. If it did, we would be up to our eyeballs in forest nymphs and frog knights,” Saeter answered him scathingly.

  “I was just saying,” the red-faced bandit muttered as he massaged the side of his head.

  Several of his fellows were smiling or chuckling at his expense. Erissa just looked really relieved, and Blacknail didn’t quite understand what was going on. Did they expect him to eat her?

  “She smells bad,” Blacknail said.

  Several bandits broke out into laughter. Even Saeter looked amused. The blond woman’s one eye twitched, and she scowled at Blacknail. The hobgoblin was now even more confused. Did the stupid woman want to be eaten? He scowled back at her.

  “I’m leaving,” Blacknail muttered as he began to walk away. There were still places in the camp he hadn’t explored yet, and his master was acting all weird. Being alone right now sounded like a great idea.

  Eventually, after the hobgoblin had claimed a few more trophies, the deserters were released. After all their weapons had been collected, they were allowed to start packing up. Red Dog planned to sleep over at the camp, then head back with the new recruits in the morning.

  They set up all their own gear in one corner of the camp and put several men on watch. Red Dog and Saeter thought the deserters were sincere in their surrender and desire to join Herad, but neither was willing to put themselves at risk to test it either.

  As night fell, everyone began to lie down for the night. Several of Red Dog’s men were seated around a fire in the center of their encampment. A pale waxing moon had risen, and every once in a while, a cloud floated past and hid it from view.

  “It’s been a long time since I’ve had army rations,” one of the men around the fire told his companions.

  “Me too. I didn’t miss them,” another replied with a scowl.

  Blacknail was sitting in the shadows, observing them. He could have joined them but didn’t feel like it. He was in a foul mood. His master had retired to his tent with the stupid blond woman.

  At first they had talked for a while and Saeter had acted all weird. Now Blacknail could hear them mating, and it was disgusting. Mating among goblins was simple. A female went into heat and the last male standing got to claim her. All the weird talking they had done was disturbing. What was there to talk about?

  “Forget about the food. What I want is a chance with that bountiful blonde we picked up today!” a taller black-haired bandit interjected.

  “Ha, good luck with that. By Herad’s rules, she belongs to Saeter. He was the one to find her, even if you don’t count Blacknail as the first. No way is he going to give her up now. She’s got her hooks into him good,” the sole female bandit in the group responded.

  “Grr, why him? He’s a crusty old bastard,” the taller bandit asked.

  “Ha, he may not seem like it these days, but Saeter used to be a famous lady-killer. He was a regular master of seduction,” a shorter bandit told him.

  “Besides, he was clearly in charge and Blondie could see it. She’s not stupid and obviously knows what’s what,” the outlaw woman added.

  “Ya, I have a hard time seeing Saeter as a lady-killer,” someone else replied.

  “I don’t know. If he were a dozen years younger and didn’t scowl so much, I think he would be fairly handsome. He’s certainly got the tall, dark, and handsome thing down,” the wo
man mused.

  “Well, damn that bastard anyway, and his stupid pet too. We’re supposed to be bandits, not gentlemen bloody thieves. He could at least share!” the taller bandit exclaimed. He stopped ranting when he noticed everyone else at the fire was staring slightly behind him. He froze, then grimaced regretfully. “Saeter’s behind me, isn’t he?”

  “It’s worse than that,” the man to his left told him.

  As if on cue, Blacknail leaned down over the short man’s shoulder and glared at him. The bandit froze. Their eyes remained locked for a few seconds, then Blacknail reached down and took the man’s plate of food from his hand.

  He stared hard into the other man’s eyes as if challenging him to say something about it. The man didn’t so much as breathe. Smugly, the hobgoblin walked back over to the shadows and started eating. A chorus of quiet chuckles broke out behind him. Blacknail felt a little better now.

  As he was eating, he saw Red Dog emerge from his tent. He walked over to the fire and spoke quietly to one of the men. The man responded, then got up and walked away from the fire and out into the darkness. He was headed across the camp to where the deserters were.

  Blacknail watched with interest. What was Red Dog doing? The bandit lieutenant was just standing beside the fire and waiting. The hobgoblin stared into the darkness that encircled them for any sign of activity. A few minutes later, a sudden clanging noise drew his attention.

  Then without warning, Blacknail was blinded by a searing white light. It flashed into existence across the camp and illuminated the entire area. Its radiance poured over Blacknail, and he hissed in distress as he tried to shield his eyes. What was this unnatural light? It was unlike anything he had ever seen! Sounds of surprise and confusion rang out from the bandit camp. Alarmed, the hobgoblin rolled behind the crate he was sitting on and sheltered in the shadows behind it.

  From his hiding spot, he heard approaching footsteps. Still somewhat blinded by the white afterimages that filled his eyesight, a nervous Blacknail drew his dagger. Just what was going on?

  Chapter 26

  Only the fact that no one was yelling or screaming stopped Blacknail from panicking. As his eyes adjusted to the light, he peeked out from his hiding spot so that only his eyes and long green nose were visible.

  Within the light, he saw two men walking toward Red Dog. One was the man Red Dog had sent out a few minutes ago, and the other was the plain-looking deserter with the staff. The bright white light that was stinging Blacknail's eyes poured forth from the end of the man’s weapon.

  The staff didn't look like a torch. The light it cast was a different color from torchlight and much stronger. The hobgoblin had never seen a staff like that before either. Dimly, he remembered some fragments of conversation he had overheard. The light must be magic, which made the man a mage. The idea of real magic intrigued Blacknail. From what he had heard, it was dangerous and exciting stuff.

  When the two men arrived, the mage’s staff slowly dimmed until it went completely dark and only the light from the campfire was left. There was a ruffling noise from Saeter’s tent as the older man stepped out, then he walked over to the mage and Red Dog. The light must have grabbed his attention. It had certainly grabbed everyone else’s.

  Blacknail climbed out of hiding and back onto the crate. There didn’t seem to be any immediate danger. From his perch, the hobgoblin stared intently at the staff-wielder. He wanted to see some more magic. He didn’t know much about it, but he was pretty sure it could make things explode and catch fire, which he really wanted to see.

  Meanwhile, Red Dog was giving the mage an indifferent look. “If you were trying to impress me with that light show, then you’ve failed. Even I know light crystals are the one type every single guild has. They’re the magical equivalent of dirt. It also seems like a bloody pointless waste of a crystal you’ll probably never be able to replace.”

  Saeter walked up beside him and grunted in agreement. The mage was an average-sized man with short brown hair and brown eyes. Like all the other deserters, he was unshaven and dressed in worn-out Elorian military garb. As he listened to Red Dog, an amused smile appeared on his face.

  “Greetings. Now that things have… settled down for a little bit, let me formally introduce myself. My name is Mahedium, former combat mage for the Royal Elorian 2nd Infantry Brigade. I’m glad you called for me. As you can probably imagine, I’ve some questions I wouldn’t mind asking you,” he said.

  “We have some questions of our own for you first,” Red Dog replied sternly.

  “Ask away then.” Mahedium turned his palms up in a gesture of openness.

  “How and why exactly did a Vessel and a mage end up deserting together? Life in the Elorian infantry isn’t fun for anyone these days, but mages and Vessels are the elite. They’re treated much better than most. Few of them ever end up deserting,” Red Dog asked.

  “Ah, that is a perceptive question. Basghus, our former leader, was an arrogant man. He may have been a Vessel, but he was still commonborn. He felt he deserved promotion, but with no noble blood, it was unlikely to ever happen. That didn’t stop him from trying though, and his persistence earned him many enemies. Eventually, he decided he would be better off striking out on his own.”

  “What about you?” Saeter asked.

  “My story is somewhat similar. I made some enemies among my… superiors. So when I learned of Basghus’s plans, I offered him my services,” Mahedium replied.

  Saeter eyed the man and scowled. He seemed skeptical. “Your guild suspected you were doing experiments on your own, and they were right, so you ran.”

  Surprise flashed across the mage’s face, and he twitched slightly. He quickly stifled it and forced a smile though. “Ah, yes. You two are unexpectedly insightful for um… outlaws. May I ask how you figured it out?”

  “It wasn’t hard. Combat mages aren’t taught how to make crystals. They’re only taught how to use them in combat. Yet you were willing to burn a crystal to produce that light. A mage with limited magic wouldn’t do that, unless they were an idiot.” Saeter shrugged.

  “Surely there must be more to it than that?” Mahedium asked skeptically.

  “Having problems with your superiors? Asking the wrong type of questions, were you? I’ve known a few combat mages, and none of them liked being dependent on the guilds for their magic. Plus, you just seem like the sort who would try to pry into the secrets of the guilds even if it meant putting your own life at risk,” Saeter added.

  Mahedium gave a self-deprecating chuckle. “I see. You’re completely right. I used to be an apothecary, until I was drafted. During training, I was tested for the mage gift and accepted into the Fiery Eye guild. Then they shipped me off to the front, and I realized I was nothing but a disposable tool to them. Without connections or moneym I would never be taught the real secrets of magic, and my ignorance would make me dependent on them for my power.”

  “So you asked questions and experimented,” Red Dog remarked.

  “Yes, and I got results! The formulas and processes involved in the creation of mana crystals are complex and tightly held secrets. Every guild has different ones it knows how to make. But you were right when you said that the light crystal was the exception! The Fiery Eye wasn’t too concerned about information on light crystals leaking. So with luck and a little experimentation, I was able to learn to create them!” Mahedium declared victoriously.

  “And now you’re on the run, but at least you can make magical torches,” Saeter replied sarcastically.

  “That’s true for now… but not forever. With my knowledge of how to create light crystals, I can experiment and discover other formulas,” Mahedium declared.

  “And blow yourself up,” Red Dog said with a roll of his eyes.

  “I’m aware of the dangers involved, but I have some clues and ideas that should reduce the risk,” he replied defensively.

  “Sure, as long as you do it well away from me,” Red Dog told him dismissively.

&
nbsp; “Hmm, I hope I’ve answered all your questions. Now if you don’t mind, I have some of my own?” the mage asked.

  “Knock yourself out,” Red Dog said.

  Mahedium threw an inquisitive glance Blacknail’s way. The hobgoblin met his gaze even though it made him nervous. He was fairly sure the mage couldn’t set him on fire with his mind, or at least wouldn’t. Saeter wouldn’t like it.

  “I must admit that I’m extremely interested in your hobgoblin. As unusual as it is for mages and Vessels to desert, I have never heard of a trained hobgoblin. He was rather… effective earlier,” he remarked.

  Saeter smirked with obvious pride. Red Dog rolled his eyes at Saeter’s behavior.

  “Not much to say. I found a goblin, then trained it. I just had to beat some sense into it when it became a hob,” Saeter replied.

  “If only,” Red Dog muttered.

  The mage gave them both uncomprehending looks. “That’s it?”

  “That’s it,” the old scout answered.

  Blacknail scowled at his master’s words. He remembered things quite differently. For one thing, he thought he deserved at least some of the credit.

  “I see. Well, now that we have gotten to know each other, I would like to ask for our weapons to be returned to us,” Mahedium told them.

  “And why should we do that?” Red Dog asked with a skeptical frown.

  “It was only Basghus who didn’t want to join up with Herad. He dragged the rest of us along with him. We have no reason to turn on you. Just as you said earlier, the wilds are a dangerous place and…”

  Blacknail yawned. He had grown bored with all the talk, and he didn’t think the mage was going to be doing any more magic. The hobgoblin stood and decided to get some sleep. He wanted to use the tent he had taken as a trophy as well. It would probably be much nicer than sleeping on the ground.

  As the night progressed, everyone eventually drifted off to sleep. When dawn came, the deserters’ camp was busy with activity. Everything that could possibly be moved was being packed away so it could be transported to Herad’s base. Soon, Red Dog, Saeter, and the rest of the bandits were on their way back with almost double the amount of men they had started with.