by Adam Drake
“Ah, that was the trick of it. We goblins almost always fight in groups. Probably why we raid so much. Large groups are required for those. So, once the raid started it was easy enough for me to hang near the back, yelling and hollering, but not directly participating in the carnage.”
Playing the part of a fighter, Rob thought. Sort of how he, himself, played the part of king. He was surprised to find himself feeling a little sympathetic toward the goblin. “Didn't any of the others catch on?”
“Not really,” Hazziq said, ducking a low hanging branch. “If any suspicion was raised I'd laugh it off to my poor skills, which was certainly truthful in itself. If I did get drawn into combat, I made certain other goblins were around to join in. It's customary to try to get the killing blow on an opponent. Even to the point of getting killed yourself.”
Rob understood. Each time he fought the goblins they practically fell over each other to get to him. It made him even more grateful he possessed the Sweep ability.
The goblin continued, his tone somber. “But over the years I grew tired of hiding my true nature. Hiding in plan sight is taxing on one's soul. I knew at some point I would be outed and branded a coward, a death sentence among my people. As time went on, my need to leave became more urgent. Then my clan announced it would send a scouting party into this valley. When word got back that the humans here were weak, the decision was made to begin raiding it.”
This brought Rob up short. Raiding party? Was that the goblins he fought at the farmstead? Even though he killed nearly all of them one did escape - a mage. Was his laughable combat performance the reason they returned with more goblins?
“Uh, weak humans? Why did they say that?”
Hazziq shrugged. “They made the assessment the resistance here would be minimal. That is only a guess. I've never been privy to a war-council's meeting, but don't need to. Goblin logic when it comes to such decisions always leads to on predictable answer: Raid.”
Rob sighed and ran a hand over his beard. He was the reason these little bastards were here. Maybe if he had killed all of the goblins at the farmhouse none of this would have happened.
The goblin continued. “So I was chosen as part of the War-Party to set up a forward operating base here, at the edge of the valley. Seeing my opportunity, I volunteered to scout around for humans to kill or capture. Once far enough away, I removed my clan gear and fled deeper into the forest with no idea where I was going. Perhaps Casso.”
Casso, again. Rob kept hearing about the city. “Casso? Isn't that full of humans?”
Hazziq shrugged his bony shoulders. “No idea. But from what I understand it is more accepting of different races than most human dwellings. To be sure, I didn't know for certain I would actually go there. I've been living moment by moment since my escape.” He went quiet.
After a few moments of trudging through the bush, Rob said, “Then you were caught?”
“Yes. In a most undignified fashion, too. I was relieving myself in some bushes when that search party appeared. Amazingly, they'd found my discarded clan gear and were immediately suspicious, as they weren't cut up or bloody. They surmised what I'd done and followed. Anyways, they beat me for a while, then grew bored and decided to take me back for judgment.”
“Damn,” Rob said. He could commiserate a little. It was nice to see his wasn't the only life that sucked. Wanting to change the subject, he said, “Your English is almost better than mine. How did you learn to speak it?”
“English?” Hazziq looked confused.
“Yeah, what were speaking right now. English.”
The skin on the goblin's wide forehead furrowed in confusion. “We are speaking Common. What is English?”
“Uh, okay. Common, then. That's what I meant.” Rob realized the term English wouldn't apply here.
“I learned it from a Language Tablet taken from a human supply convoy. Knowing my people's disdain for anything not goblin, I hid them from the others so it wouldn't be destroyed. When we returned home, I stashed it in the hollow of a tree, far from the settlement. At night, after singing war-songs and drinking ox blood, I would sneak out to the tree and read. Amazing things, that tablet. I couldn't understand a single bit of its scrawl at first, but over time simply by staring at it, I began to perceive letters and then words.”
“How long did it take to learn?”
“Not even a turn of the moon. Eight or nine days, perhaps. By then, I'd absorbed everything on the it and was eager for more. If I could learn Common, then, maybe there were other Language Tablets I could learn from.”
He reminded Rob of Ynette, only a hell of a lot uglier. “Well, I'm glad you can speak my language or I might have killed you back there.”
“As am I,” Hazziq said. “I know I will be of tremendous use to you.”
Rob was beginning to feel a little better about having the goblin as a follower, but as with everyone he'd encountered in this world, he had to keep his guard up.
Suddenly, Rob emerged from the thick foliage and into a small clearing where he stopped in surprise.
Sitting on a fallen log was a large man, covered in armor. A massive warhammer resting upright on the ground beside him. On a stump in front of him was a series of items; mortar and pestle, and a bunch of different sized flasks. He appeared to be making something.
Both men looked at each other in surprise.
The man said, “Who, in the Many Hells, are y-.” His eyes widened as Hazziq stumbled out of the trees into the clearing.
“Look out! A goblin!” The man shouted, standing, and pointed a gloved hand in Hazziq's direction.
“No!” Rob shouted, but it was too late.
A column of crackling ice shot from the man's hand and hit Hazziq. Instantly, the goblin was encased in ice, covering his entire body.
Stunned, Rob could only stare at his new follower.
Hazziq was dead.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“What are you doing?!” Rob roared, turning toward the man and brandishing his mace.
The man's surprise turned to confusion. “What do you mean, what are you doing? I'm saving your life.” He spoke in a calm manner, unperturbed by Rob's anger.
Rob gaped at him for a few seconds, then said, “He's my friend! And you just murdered him!” A glance revealed the man was several levels higher than him. Rob doubted he could take him in a fight.
The man's bushy black eyebrows raised a few millimeters. “Well, what you just said doesn't make any sense. No one is a friend of goblins. That's impossible. They're vermin.”
Rob pointed at the frozen body of Hazziq, clearing viewable within the ice block. “He's not vermin. I just rescued him from a bunch of other goblins. He swore his allegiance to me and now you've killed him!” His temper was in full bloom.
“Wait, he really is your friend? Are you mad, or something? You shouldn't be near the vile creature, let alone trying to communicate with it.”
At a loss now as to how to react, Rob could only stand and tremble with pent up rage. He took a couple of deep breaths then said, “You didn't have to kill him. He wasn't going to hurt you.”
Certain Rob wasn't about to attack, the man lowered his hands. “By the Many Hells, it had a chance to attack me. I kill goblins sight unseen. Just like every other sane adventurer. The only reason I used Iceberg is because it's the only ranged attack I have.”
Still shaking, but getting his temper back under control, Rob lowered his mace. Looking at Hazziq's body, he sighed. There goes his quest reward and potential ally.
“Wait, you think he's dead?” The man said at Rob's expression. “Ha! He ain't dead, simply frozen in place. We can kill him good and proper once he thaws.”
“He's not dead?” Rob said, confused even more.
“No,” the man said. “It's only a level two Iceberg. Doesn't kill, just puts them on ice, as it were. Level three Iceberg, well, that there will freeze them through and through. When that melts, the body does, too.”
“So he'
s alive?” Rob said. Hazziq's frozen expression was one of surprise.
“Yes, damn you, how many times do I have to explain it? Level two Iceberg doesn't kill.”
“Can we get him out of it?” Rob walked over to the block and hefted his mace.
“Don't hit it!” The man shouted in warning. “You'll hurt your little pet if you do. It's summer so the ice will melt fast.”
“How long?” Rob said. How long until he could get his quest reward and find the hideout?
The big man shrugged. “Maybe three days, four at the most. Are you sure this thing is your friend? Did it charm you, are something? Never heard of anyone with a goblin follower before.”
“There wasn't a charm spell or anything like that.” It felt odd referring to the little goblin as a friend since he'd only known him for less than an hour. But considering the circumstance it was the best way to describe their relationship.
“Well, my apologies, then,” the man said. “Just doing what comes natural when seeing a goblin. They are definitely not all like this one.”
Rob begrudged him the point. Had Hazziq not spoke to him when he did, Rob would have killed him just in passing. He sighed again. “Okay, so he's not dead. That's good. But you really messed up my day by doing this, you know?”
“What happened, happened,” the man said sitting down, again. “My name is Stennwick Swayne. But folks just call me Stenn.”
The angry energy in the air dissipated and Rob found himself calming down. May as well play nice. “My name is Robert Barron. Call me Rob.”
“Huh,” the man said, busying himself with the flasks. It looked like he was creating some type of drink. “I've heard of you. You're that new king, aren't you?”
“The one and only,” Rob said, a little surprised the man knew of him. “How did you hear of me?”
Stenn shrugged. “However people hear things. Gossip, mostly. Share a cook fire with another adventurer and you get to talking about things; other adventurers, tavern wenches, loot. New kings.” He took some red colored ingredients from the mortar and sprinkled it into a flask full of what appeared to be water. The water instantly turned a thick red.
Rob instantly recognized it. “Hey, that's a Healing potion!”
“Of course it is. It ain't Blood Ale, or whatever that new crap they drink in the slums.” He created another Healing potion, then placed them both in a red pouch on his belt.
Rob realized what all the items were. “Is that an Alchemy kit?”
“Yup,” Stenn said placing the kit's items into another pouch, this one white. “Why, never seen a potion made before?”
“No. I need to make a Hold Breath potion. Could you make it?”
“Sure. Got the ingredients?”
“Not all of them no. I'm short one Sea Bead and two Air Flowers,” he said, hoping the man might have them.
“Well, I'm not a walking apothecary. Can't help you,” Stenn said. “Why don't you head up to Zuthus' trading post? He might have what you need.”
Good idea, but Rob still needed money to purchase anything. “How much is that kit?”
“Why? You looking to buy it from me?”
“I might,” Rob said. Two can play at this game.
Stenn mulled it over, then said, “Two hundred gold pieces.”
Rob tried not to wince. Other than the silver he got from the goblins, he was broke. Besides, he didn't even know what it was really worth. “I don't have it.”
“Well, then I don't have it to sell.”
Stenn stood and picked up the massive warhammer, easily hefting it onto his shoulder. Its head resembled a large anvil. “Time to get back to the fight. I stopped to refresh my potion stock, as I think relying only on healing spells can be potentially fatal.”
As he turned to leave, Rob said, “What fight is it?”
“Huh?”
“The fight you're returning to. Or was that a figure of speech?”
“I'm on a quest, like any good adventurer. A right tough one, too. Been at it for nearly two days and can't crack it.”
Struck with an idea, Rob said, “Maybe I can help.”
Stenn looked him over. “I don't know. You're really not high enough level for this. And besides, why would a king want to help me after I did that to his pet?”
Rob knew he would have to find the hideout on his own. He couldn't afford to sit around and wait for Hazziq to unthaw. But there might be something to gain from this encounter. “I'll help you. I don't care how difficult it is.”
“Oh, well, isn't this interesting. You want something, don't you? I'm no fool, I can tell. Go on, spit it out.”
“I'll help if you give me that Alchemy kit.”
Stenn laughed. It was more of a guffaw, loud and boisterous. “This kit? You want that in return for your help? Why you're likely to get us both killed. Do you even have any offensive spells?”
This gave Rob pause. Telling a stranger all your spells didn't seem like a wise move. They could use that knowledge against you. But he didn't want to lie, either. “Yeah, one.”
“Ha! Good answer. At such a low level you wouldn't have more than a couple at best. If you exaggerated, I would have taken you for a fool.” He looked at Rob, thinking.
“I've been in enough fights to know I can hold me own,” Rob said, feeling a little silly trying to sell himself. He didn't even know what quest Stenn was doing, yet.
Stenn shrugged. “Okay, fine. If you're going to be so insistent. You help me with my quest, and if we're successful I'll give you the kit.”
Relieved, Rob said, “So what's the quest?”
“Follow me, and I'll show you. It's not far.”
As he trailed behind Stenn into the forest, Rob gave Hazziq a nod, resolving to return later. He wasn't sure the little goblin could see him, or even knew what was going on.
They followed a narrow path through the forest, the trees here tall and wide. Each were covered in thick carpets of multi-colored moss, with a wild variety of mushrooms growing at their base. Watching Stenn, Rob sensed the man knew this place well.
“Have you quested here before? In the forest?”
“Huh? Oh, sure. Sometimes. Been a while, though. I recently started to follow a quest-chain that began many leagues from here, which has led me back to this valley. The place has changed.”
“What do you mean changed?”
“Well, the forest for starters. It wasn't here before. The southern swamp extended all the way to the coast. Plus, there use to be a lot more rats. Not sure what happened to those.”
Stenn led them off the path and into a dried out gully. Somewhere in the distance a bird cried out and they paused, listening.
After a few seconds, Rob whispered, “What is it?”
Stenn arched brow at him. “You really are lacking in forest skills. When you here a bird suddenly make a noise like that, you stop and listen. Something startled it.”
Feeling a little embarrassed, Rob shut up and listened. The wind rustled through leaves and branches creaked.
“Humph,” Stenn said. “Weren't nothing. Let's go. It's right up here.”
They approached a turn in the gulley and slowly climbed up its western embankment. At the top, Stenn indicated they should get on their stomachs and crawl. Crawling through the underbrush they reached the edge of a rise which looked down into a large open area. About fifty paces away was a wide cave entrance at the base of a cliff. Rob saw movement below and froze.
Dozens of Shale Mites were scurrying around the mouth of the cave, darting in and out, doing inscrutable business. Rob was mortified. Fighting one was bad enough, but all of those together?
Stenn chuckled by his side. “Quite the sight, isn't it? Little bastards have been a pain to deal with.”
“I fought one before, not far from here.”
“Oh, yeah? Odd that. They don't normally wander far from their source.”
They stared at the mutant insects as they scurried about. Some carried bits of forest debris bet
ween their giant mandibles. Occasionally, Rob would see one carrying what looked to be flesh.
Rob said, “So this is your quest? To kill these things?”
“No, not at all, actually. Killing them just happens to give me lots of experience points. The quest I'm on is for what's inside that cave they're guarding.”
“A queen?” Rob said, a little worried. What would that look like, and how big?
“Nah, no queen. These aren't proper insects if you can't tell.”
“No, I can't,” Rob admitted. “What do you mean?”
