by J. T. Wright
Not the point! Kirstin grunted as she severed the wrist of the Goblin, who was lunging at her with a knife. A follow-up slash stopped the Goblin’s pain-filled screams. He fell to the ground, clutching his throat with his remaining hand. Lacking a Healer, the Bandit would bleed out. He had already been forgotten by Kirstin.
Kirstin channeled her anger towards Joel, into a Chop that split a second Bandit in half. Low-leveled scum! Why bother coming out to play if you are this weak? Two down, no three. Joel sent an arrow into a Goblin sneaking up on Kirstin’s blind spot.
Too little, too late, you blind Scout bastard! Joel’s shot forced Kirstin to realize that she’d stepped out of position, but there was no forgiveness in her heart as she resumed her place. It wasn’t as if Joel had saved her life. At most, he prevented a scratch. She would still have a few choices words for him when they were through here! Words and maybe a beating.
She would have words for the whole party! Kirstin had almost taken a hit just now, and where was Lyra, the group’s Healer? Swinging her staff and attempting to crush skulls! Kirstin didn’t care that Lyra's Class, Battle Healer, had opened up a thrilling new world of close combat for her maid. A Healer was a support Class! Lyra should be standing by waiting to support, not fighting at the front!
And the little hussy better not think that Kirstin hadn’t noticed how much time the Healer had been spending with Corporal Francis. That was a scandal waiting to happen, and a boring one at that! A soldier and a lady’s maid? Kirstin would be a laughingstock. Besides, the Corporal was nearly twice Lyra's age!
Dirk was performing his task well. Kirstin couldn’t find fault there, though that didn’t stop her from trying. The Skills provided by his Defender and Heavy Infantry Classes had prevented the Goblins from gaining the advantage. Shield Wall was holding the Bandits at bay, and Dirk was managing to wield his halberd one-handed while kneeling, delivering a surprising amount of damage. When had he gotten so proficient?
Kirstin choked back her frustration and skewered a charging Goblin with her blade. Blood spurted from the wound, splashing her face, as she ripped her sword free. Then unexpectedly, Kirstin giggled. Shaking her head, she parried another attack and kicked a Bandit away.
She giggled again. Goblins were funny. They had those ridiculously long fingers, with more joints than any finger had a right to have. Silly Goblins, with their pointy noses, and pointier teeth. And green skin! Who has green skin? Maybe Goblins were part plant.
Another giggle welled out of her as she wondered how long it would take to grow a Goblin. You probably needed special soil to produce a good crop. These Bandits certainly smelled like they had been well fertilized.
Kirstin’s sword tip dropped as she let go with one hand to cover her mouth. The hand wasn’t able to contain the fit of laughter that burst from her. Something was wrong. But how could anything be wrong when she felt so right? She felt free.
A knot inside Kirstin’s chest loosened and broke. Irritation drained out of her. What did she have to be irritated about? She was surrounded by her friends. She was pursuing her chosen vocation in the company of her most trusted companions. What could be better than that?
She had her friends and her sword. There was a world to explore and Trials to challenge. The sun was bright, the wind was refreshing, and the wilds were beautiful. Best of all, these silly Goblin Bandits had volunteered to become free entertainment and XP. For the first time in weeks, she was at peace.
“Kirstin! Wake up! Why are you just standing there?” Joel angrily shouted. There were still fourteen Goblins attacking the four companions, nine melee combatants and five archers. It was their bowman that kept the Adventurer’s superior Levels and Skills from carrying the day.
Standing on a small rise a dozen yards back, Joel was doing his best to keep the ranged fighters pinned down while at the same time keeping the frontline Bandits contained. His bowstring constantly twanged as he sent barrage after barrage at the Goblins to prevent them from circling around Dirk’s Shield Wall. With Kirstin out of the fight, the pressure on the Scout increased.
“Kirstin’s down!” Joel drew Dirk and Lyra's attention to their leader’s plight. He ducked an arrow that came flying his way from the distant Bandits. That one had been close. The Goblins weren’t talented archers. That arrow probably hadn’t been meant for him in the first place, but they made up with numbers what they lacked in precision.
“Hurt?” Lyra tried out a new Skill that Frank had taught her as she called out her query. Sweeping Strike pushed back the four Bandits crowding her. The Skill didn’t hurt the Bandits, but it gave her space to fall to the rear and dispense healing. Not that she could.
The Skill had done its job, but the party was already a man short. Two, if Kirstin was badly injured. Lyra was needed where she was. The maid used the breathing room she had gained to glance at Kirstin. The noblewoman had her mouth covered, and there was blood on her face. Blood that wasn’t Kirstin’s. Lyra was sure of that.
“Yes! I mean, no!” Joel’s slip of the tongue occurred as he sent a Bandit archer spinning to the ground with an arrow through the eye. “She didn’t take a hit. I don’t know what’s wrong!”
“Shaman? Is she spelled? Think I should rush ‘em?” Dirk hoped the answer was yes. He wasn’t comfortable wielding a halberd one-handed while on his knees. His Strength allowed it, but he felt off balance and confined.
“Stand your ground! We need… shit!” Joel let loose a shot, and the arrow flew wildly, sinking into the dirt yards away from the Goblin he had targeted. That wasn’t the cause of his curse, though. The exclamation had been released because there weren’t thirteen Goblins left. He had killed a bowman, but there were still fourteen.
The fourteenth Bandit was patient. He had watched eight of his brethren fall without revealing his presence. Goblin lives were cheap. As their leader, he could recruit more for his band at any time. It was this Goblin’s job to identify and eliminate the greatest threat. Namely Joel. The Scout hadn’t killed as many as the female warrior, but her kills had been possible because of the man’s interference.
The Goblin's Class of Bandit Chief didn’t focus on stealth. He had the Hide Skill, but Hide required stillness. Having watched from cover, the Goblin leader chose what he thought was the perfect opportunity to strike. His natural Goblin sneakiness brought him within range. Once the human was distracted, the Chief drew his sword and attacked.
A Scout requires heightened awareness to be successful. Joel had yet to gain the Skills that would sharpen his hearing and sense of smell, but his Class provided him with a small bonus in those departments. Despite the screaming and clashing on the battlefield, he heard the Goblin's blade whisper as it was drawn. He smelled the unwashed bloody scent approaching him.
His arrow would have taken another life and evened the odds slightly if Joel hadn’t been interrupted. The Scout wasn’t too upset that he had missed. The odds would have been much worse for the Adventurers if they had lost him in exchange for a single Bandit.
The Chief’s sword scratched against the leather armor on his chest as Joel turned sideways and stepped back. That blade would have taken him through the heart if not for his reflexes. He took hold of his bow with both hands and unleashed a blow at the Bandit’s head.
The Chief scrambled back, but the tip of Joel’s bow caught his chin. The Goblin's head jerked to the side from the force. He wasn’t even dazed. That was not a good sign. With 15 Levels in Squire and 9 in Scout for a total of 24, Joel was no lightweight. For the Goblin to take even a glancing blow from him without blinking meant Joel had no edge level-wise. This fight would be determined by skill.
“I'm out!” Joel called a warning to his friends as he flung his bow aside and drew his sword. Dirk and Lyra were on their own unless Kirstin snapped out of it. A shortcut through the wilds no longer seemed the good idea that it had back in the safety of Slyhill.
The Goblin leader was taller, stronger, and faster than his lesser kin. He was still
inches shorter than Joel. Joel used his longer arms and reach to keep the Goblin from closing with him. He felt a shiver of anxiety as he clashed swords with his opponent.
Joel’s Squire Class offered him a balance between offense and defense. His Scout Class enhanced his speed and Agility, and he hadn’t slacked off when it came to sword training. All of these should have made him a superior fighter, but the first exchange of blows told him he shouldn’t underestimate this Goblin.
The Bandit Chief had a single Class and poor equipment. His sword was rusty, his armor badly crafted, but at no time did the Bandit ever consider himself an unequal match for the human. He was a Bandit Chief, wily, and wise. How many human Adventurers had fallen to his blade? He had lost count. When this fresh-faced human fell, that number would increase, and the Chief would have a new sword.
The Bandit darted and thrust. Joel found himself parrying while stumbling backward. The Scout and the Bandit had similar styles. With one-handed swords, no shield, and no secondary weapons, the two entered an almost civilized duel, a contest of dodging and slicing.
Skills were withheld as they felt each other out. Joel, because his Stamina was already low from employing Skilled shots earlier. The Bandit was rested; he merely liked to see his opponents bleed. He liked to play with his victims before sending them to face whatever god they prayed to.
Dirk rose to his feet, releasing Shield Wall. The Skill could be used standing up, but it was most effective when the shield it revolved around was touching the earth. Having lost their ranged support and with Kirstin dazed and unresponsive, Dirk and Lyra were in a spot. If the enemy archers had been more effective, this battle would already be finished.
Dirk discarded his halberd and took up his war hammer. The longer reach of the pole weapon had been a plus while Dirk played the party’s wall, but it was really meant to be used with both hands. Unless he wanted to give up his shield, which he didn’t, the war hammer was his best weapon. He battered a Goblin aside with Shield Bash and struck out with his hammer, crushing the shoulder of a Bandit that had grown too bold.
Dirk missed Matt. Not just because they were a man short. Matt had been his friend. The Fire Elementalist would be proud to see how much Dirk had improved. Matt’s absence left a hole in the group, one that Dirk didn’t think they would be able to fill. How do you replace a childhood friend who was killed young, and in a senseless manner?
The attackers were starting to see the weakness that their Chief had created. Soon they would exploit it. Dirk had to act now before the tide turned against them.
“I'm going to Charge!” He missed a strike as he spoke to Lyra. Dirk had invested in Agility and Dexterity with the free Attribute Points from his last few level-ups, but Goblins were adept at dodging. “I'll activate Enraging Aura, focus them on me. They won’t get through my armor anytime soon. You pick them off from behind.”
“Bad plan!” Lyra was a small woman, petite. It was amazing to see how she swung and twirled the iron capped staff in her hand. Looking at her, you wouldn’t think she had the Strength, but weeks of fighting and training with the Guard, specifically Corporal Francis, had improved her weapons mastery. The Bandits were leery of coming within her reach.
However, that hesitancy was starting to fade. Lyra wore chainmail beneath her blue Healer's robe. The effort of fighting and the weight of her staff and mail was sapping her Stamina quickly. The Bandits could see she had little left.
Lyra’s long brown hair had broken free of its tidy bun. Her breathing was heavy, and her arms were growing tired. Only the gleam in her eyes kept the Bandits from rushing her. This Battle Healer wasn’t done yet!
“You… charge…Kirstin’s…exposed,” Lyra huffed out her words between strikes. She was hitting more often than Dirk, but where the Defender's blows were guaranteed to make a Bandit suffer, hers merely bruised. “We… should… fall back… help…Joel.”
“Leave Kris? You going to carry her while we run?” Dirk’s plan wasn’t great, but Lyra’s was no better.
Lyra had no answer to that. Carrying Kirstin wasn’t an option, and pulling the incapacitated noblewoman wasn’t either. Not while they were facing a dozen opponents. Lyra wished they could have convinced Corporal Francis to journey with them. Frank would know what to do in this situation.
Thinking of the Corporal brought a smile to Lyra’s face. In her flushed, excited state, that slight baring of her teeth made her look especially fierce. The two Goblins choosing that moment to push forward froze at the sight of her. Lyra sent them sprawling with another Sweeping Strike. One of them fell within her range, and her staff came down hard on its face.
Lyra scored her first kill of this encounter with Pinning Thrust. Frank had taught her that Skill as well, not with a Skill Stone though, but by guiding her to channel her Stamina and walking her through the movements. He promised to teach her an Advanced Skill, one requiring Stamina and Mana when she returned to Al’drossford.
She thought Frank was simply the most marvelous man! Knowledgeable, capable, patient. Kirstin couldn’t see it, however. She was still a bit angry over being chastised in the Trial. Lyra saw it clearly. If the Corporal was here, these Goblins would be shitting their pants as they fled from him.
Lyra giggled at the inappropriate word. It crossed her mind that it was a word she would have condemned hearing from another. Dirk was shooting her a dismayed look. Kirstin was still snickering to herself behind him. Had Lyra been affected by whatever had debilitated Kris? Lyra schooled her expression back into one that was fit for a Lady’s maid. Frank wasn’t here. To see him again, Lyra would have to survive.
Kirstin guffawed when Lyra twittered. Her maid must be feeling the same way she was. Life was good. They should stop all this fighting bother. The Goblins were still cute, but she had discovered she wasn’t getting any XP from them because they weren’t a proper party.
Kirstin had Commanding Aura. That Skill allowed her companions to work together more efficiently, but without Leadership, she couldn’t form a Party. No Party meant no shared XP. If Kirstin wanted Experience, she’d have to kill Goblins herself. No, thank you!
Since there would be no party, they should stop. They should have a picnic! Picnics were more fun than parties! Goblins would be adorable in little flower crowns, nibbling on finger sandwiches. Were there flowers here? She would have to look.
Kirstin didn’t find any flowers. What her search revealed was a Goblin. A Goblin that had slipped passed Dirk and was running towards her. Running towards her with a short sword. Seeing Kirstin’s eyes on him, the Bandit thrust his sword into her thigh. Kirstin wore a breastplate and chainmail shirt for armor, but her legs were unprotected. It hadn’t been too long ago that she had been a Duelist who disdained any protective equipment other than the lightest enchanted cloth and a few pieces of leather.
Kirstin’s Level and Constitution prevented the stab wound from crippling her. The Goblin was preparing another strike that would hopefully finish her when it paused. Kirstin didn’t look dazed anymore.
Her vision turned red, and her arm shot out. Her left hand grasped the Goblin Bandit by the throat and squeezed. Her scrawny assailant lifted his sword to cut at her wrist. Kirstin wasn’t having any of that. One-handed, she lifted the Goblin off the ground and shook him violently. Panicked, he dropped his sword to pull at her fingers. This was a mistake.
Kirstin’s hand could have been forged from iron. She lifted the Bandit with ease but lacked the strength to crush his throat. His wheezing gasps told her he could still breathe. She wasn’t having any of that. This wretched creature had stabbed her!
She flung the Goblin to the ground. Forgetting the sword she still held loosely in her right hand, she proceeded to stomp and kick at the Bandit that had dared to attack her. She knew nothing except rage as she delivered her vengeance. The satisfying snapping sound the Bandit’s neck made as she kicked his jaw and forced his neck to an angle it was never meant to twist to brought a smile to her lips.
&nb
sp; Kirstin might have returned to her reverie then, if not for luck. The arrow that struck her shoulder was meant for Dirk, preferably Dirk’s eye. The Bandits haunted an area frequented by new Adventurers. Their equipment was gleaned from the corpses of their victims. Their arrows were hand made.
The Bandit bowman had harried and harassed Kirstin’s party to little effect. Their bows were weak, their arrows poorly fletched. The arrow that struck Kirstin’s shoulder wouldn’t have scratched Dirk’s shield. It was unable to penetrate Kirstin’s chainmail. It did rock her on her feet, and piss her off.
Kirstin’s eye picked out a distant bowman and decided that was the one that had offended her. Her sword came up. She gave the corpse at her feet one last kick. Goblins didn’t look cute to her anymore.
Kirstin was the group’s only purely offensive frontline fighter. Her Classes gave her a combined Level of 22. She had trained and invested heavily in Agility and Strength. One on one, there wasn’t a Goblin present who could stand before her. The Bandit’s numbers had put the party on the defensive. Kirstin didn’t give a damn about defense now.
Her sword was meant to be used with both hands, but she hefted it easily with one. She took a step forward, then another, eyes trained on the disgusting maggot that had shot her. Dirk and Lyra had pushed the Bandits back in an effort to cover Kirstin while she was in her stupor. A third step brought her next to Dirk. Then she really started moving.
Swinging her sword to clear the way, Kirstin only had eyes for the Bandit she blamed for jostling her. The others she would kill if they got in her way. Two fell for this very reason. The rest threw themselves aside upon seeing her snarling face and hate-filled eyes. Some tripped in their eagerness not to engage her.
In Kirstin’s wake, Dirk and Lyra followed. They didn’t know what was happening. Kirstin was acting strangely. They couldn’t let her go on her own. They also couldn’t pass up the fallen Bandits. Dirk’s steel-covered boots, in conjunction with his weight and the weight of his armor, were even more effective at crushing throats and breaking spines than Kirstin’s. Lyra’s iron-capped staff refused to be outdone.
