by Troy Osgood
GOBLINS AMOK II
Report the death of Scout Jacobs immediately to Guard Captain Henry.
Reward: +100 Essec Reputation, +50 Experience
ACCEPT QUEST?
GOBLINS AMOK II ELITE (optional)
Follow the trail to the Goblins camp to gather more information on the raiders or destroy them.
Reward: +300 Essec Reputation, +100 Experience
ACCEPT QUEST?
Congratulations!
You have been given your first Optional Quest.
ELITE quests have the chance for greater rewards but will be much more dangerous and deadly. If you choose to not take the ELITE quest, it will not be offered again.
“Are you getting this?” Hall asked, looking back at Roxhard.
The Dwarf nodded, still avoiding looking at the bloody pile that had been Scout Jacobs.
“What the hell is an Optional and Elite Quest?” Roxhard asked.
Hall shrugged. “Want to go and find out?”
He knew what his choice was going to be. Everything said they should head back to Grayhold and get some more experience and money. More supplies. Then come back and deal with the Goblins. That was the smart and safe play.
A look of fear came across Roxhard’s face, gone quickly. He forced a smile.
“You’re the boss. I go where you go.”
“I’m not the boss,” Hall protested but still accepted the optional quest.
He took a couple more steps in the direction of the tracks, studying the ground, trying to gauge the number of Goblins. It was hard. The footsteps kept crossing over each other, twisting and turning. Hard to follow a single set of footprints. The Goblins also moved lightly, almost skipping through the forest. One track and the next would not be where it was expected but farther beyond. It was like every other step didn’t touch the ground.
Roxhard went wide around the body, trying not to step in any of the blood.
They tracked the Goblins for almost another hour. The trail somewhat paralleled the river for a time, sometimes cutting north and returning or just moving alongside the river. There was no pattern, just meandering. The Goblins were not in a hurry to get to their destination.
The farther from the road they got, the easier the trail was to follow. The Goblins stopped caring. They trampled bushes, stepped in mud, broke sticks and branches. Hall still had no idea how many of the creatures there were.
He started to worry that they would have no choice but to turn back. The sun was starting to set, and he had no desire to try and find shelter in an area of woods shared with Goblins. That would mean no fire, no hunting. A dangerous night. They could make it south of the bridge before dark, a little safer.
Hall started to tell Roxhard to turn around when he heard the noises from ahead.
Voices, talking in a rapid-fire language full of cackles. Hall could not understand the language but he knew the sound.
Goblins.
He signaled to Roxhard, and they slowed their already slow pace.
There was light ahead, flickering flames along the ground. An orange and red glow.
Motioning for Roxhard to stay, Hall crept forward. He crouched low, taking care to place each step carefully. The Goblins were making a lot of noise, celebrating it sounded like, but he didn’t want to take a chance of being heard.
The creatures were in a small depression at the bottom of a hill, the land sloping down. They had a large fire burning. Sticks and logs piled together, no pattern, just stacked. Across the fire something was set in the flames. It looked like a pile of some kind of meat cooking.
Hall fought back the bile, knowing what the Goblins were cooking.
There were five of the creatures dancing around the fire, hooting and cackling. Each still held a club, dressed in rough hides and rags. There was a large pile at the base of the stony hill. Hall could not make out what it was, but it was unmoving. A sizable pile.
He watched the Goblins for a couple minutes as they danced.
A plan started to form.
Hall crept back to where Roxhard waited.
He crouched at the top of the steep slope that led down to the Goblins' encampment. They were still dancing, the flames casting odd shadows against the stone behind them. The mass of meat they were cooking was gone. He could see pieces held by two of the Goblins. The rest was eaten.
Outnumbered, probably outleveled, they needed surprise and luck on their side.
Hall had never been reckless, always thinking before moving, and he admitted this was probably not his smartest idea. Turn back, get help. That would have been the smart idea.
It was too late now. They were committed.
Taking a deep breath, loosely holding his spear, he used his Leap ability.
Up into the air he jumped, spinning the short spear in his grip. A high arc brought him over the middle of the camp. With a war cry he came down into the middle of the Goblins. He had hoped to land on one, but this worked too.
He stabbed out with his spear, catching one of the creatures in the chest. It stared at the wound gushing blood as Hall pulled his spear back. Its hands went up to the wound, staring dumbly at the blood on its hands. The Goblin fell.
Hall jabbed backward with the spear, clipping another Goblin in the shoulder with the butt end. Holding it tight, he spun the weapon around, keeping the others at bay. One Goblin was done, unsure if it was dead, but there were still four of the monsters.
This was the biggest hole in his plan. He was counting on someone he barely knew.
Roxhard was a fourteen-year-old kid that was overwhelmed. Scared. He hadn’t been too thrilled with the plan. Would he do his part?
Hall was unable to connect with the creatures. The fire was behind him, protecting his blindside. Sweeping back and forth with the spear kept the Goblins at bay. For now. He could not hit them, could not go on the offensive as it would open him up to attacks from the others. He wished he had his Flying Aim ability. He could have thrown a javelin while in the air, possibly taking out one of the Goblins, or at least wounding it.
Roxhard should have made his move by now. Hall was starting to worry.
The Goblins were hooting, a different kind. Mean, angry, promising pain.
A new sound filled the hollow: heavy boots against the hard ground and a battle cry.
The Dwarf appeared at the top of the slope, axe in hand. He roared and charged toward the nearest Goblin. He was like a boulder rolling down the hill, gaining speed and momentum with each step.
He slammed into a Goblin, knocking the creature off-balance and launching it into the air. The Goblin landed hard a couple feet away. The axe swung at another Goblin, catching the creature in the chest. Blood spurted out as the sharp weapon almost cleaved the thin creature in half.
The other two were distracted, turning toward the roaring Dwarf. Taking advantage of the surprise of the Dwarf’s appearance, just as he had planned, Hall slammed one of the Goblins in the back of the head. The creature staggered, almost falling.
Hall spun the spear in his hand and jabbed out with the pointed end. He caught the other Goblin in the shoulder. The tip pierced flesh, tearing a chunk out of the creature. It yelped in pain, twisting away from Hall. Roxhard stepped forward, bloody axe connecting with the one Hall had hit in the head. The creature fell to the ground, not getting up.
Pulling the spear back, Hall twisted toward the last Goblin. It swung toward him with the club, trying to bat the spear away. Expertly, Hall parried with the wooden shaft, feeling vibrations through the wood as the club connected. He smacked the Goblin in its good shoulder with his spear. It staggered a couple steps.
Three down. Two to go.
Roxhard advanced on the one he had sent flying. The creature was getting up from the ground, weaponless, holding its head with one hand. It wobbled. Roxhard’s axe chopped down into its shoulder. It wobbled one more time before collapsing to the ground.
The Goblin facing Hall continued to bash at his spear. He continue
d to smack it with the wood. It watched the last of its fellow raiders fall, its expression showing sudden fear. It took a couple steps back, eyes darting around, out of the reach of the spear.
Cackling and hooting, the Goblin turned and started to run away.
It didn’t get far. Hall’s javelin landed in the middle of its back. The tip of the missile burst through its chest, the momentum and force carrying it forward a couple of steps where it finally fell down.
Hall looked around the hollow, the flames casting shadows against the trees and the ground. Nothing moved.
SLAIN: Green Flow Goblin Raider x 3
+75 Experience
Skill Gain!
Polearms Rank 2 +.3
Skill Gain!
Light Armor Rank 2 +.1
Skill Gain!
Thrown Rank 2 +.1
“You good?” he asked Roxhard.
The Dwarf was staring at the blood dripping from his axe.
“Rox, you good?” Hall repeated.
“Yeah,” the Dwarf answered with a shake of his head, focusing on the area and not the axe.
Hall retrieved the javelin, returning it to the harness on his back. Nudging at the Goblin, dirty and filthy, he could see there was nothing of value on the corpse. A quick search of the others revealed the same.
He walked over to the large pile against the hill. He could see that it was made of small crates, bags, and cloaks thrown together. The Goblin raiders pile of loot. A large pile of loot.
More than these five Goblins could have gotten on their own.
“More of them,” Roxhard almost shouted, staring around wildly as if they would attack at any time.
Which they could. There was no way of knowing how many more Goblins there were or when they would return. Or even if these five would respawn. Did such things happen anymore?
“Yeah, so we need to hurry,” Hall said, looking at the pile of loot.
He pulled up a cloak that looked decent enough. A deep brown color, he thought, since it was dark and getting hard to see. Color didn’t matter at this point. He held it out, trying to see if there were blood stains or anything else stuck to it.
Folding it up, he set it aside, along with another one that could be cut to fit Roxhard’s shorter height. He started shifting the crates when he felt one move beneath him.
“What the hell?” he said, quickly moving them out of the way.
The largest crate, stuck on the bottom, was shaking. Something was thumping the walls, causing the thing to move. There were holes cut into the top and sides. Breathing holes. Whatever was inside was alive.
“What is that?” Roxhard asked, coming up closer.
Hall didn’t answer. He started to crouch down to examine it closer when something slammed into the rocks near his head. Stone on stone echoed through the depression, the missile bouncing onto the crates.
The Dwarf and Half-Elf turned in the direction the thrown stone had come from. At the top of the depression were four more Goblins, cackling and hooting and growling. In front of them, holding a sling, was a larger Goblin. A couple inches taller and wider, it looked much more dangerous.
A Goblin Chief.
Five against two, and they no longer had the element of surprise.
CHAPTER NINE
Hall cursed, motioning at Roxhard to move farther away, to put space between them. The Chief roared, its deeper voice drowning out the others. It grabbed a stone from the ground and fitted it into the sling. Lifting the weapon above its head, it started spinning and released the stone.
“Ow,” Roxhard muttered.
The weapon didn’t do much damage, Hall hoped, but every little bit was going to be costly.
Laughing, a hideous sound, the Goblin Chief pointed at the two. The others charged down the hill, the Chief remaining at the top. Two went after Roxhard with two coming after Hall. Quickly judging speed and distance, he knew he didn’t have time to throw a javelin at the Chief. The Goblins were too fast.
“Keep moving,” he shouted to Roxhard. “Don’t let that Chief get a bead on you.”
He didn’t know if Roxhard heard or said anything in response because the Goblins were on him.
Jabbing out with his spear, he kept one of the creatures at bay but the other slipped by. It swung its club. Hall not able to avoid the blow. The wooden club slammed into his side and he bit back a yell. The pain made his side go numb. He swung out with his fist, catching the Goblin in the head.
A rock impacted with his head, cutting a bloody line across his scalp. It hurt, making his head ring. He cursed at himself. Told Roxhard to move but didn’t take his own advice. He stepped to the side, using the spear to drive the Goblin to turn with him.
He feinted a stab and quickly brought the spear back, jabbing it out to where the Goblin had stepped. It had moved to avoid the expected jab and gotten stabbed when it moved. The creature yelped, jumping back and yanking the spear tip out of its side. It swung its club against the shaft.
With a jerk, Hall slid the shaft down his hand, gripping it closer to the tip. He swung it around, the tip pointing to the side, grabbing it with his other hand and pulling. The tip rushed forward, catching the dazed Goblin in the throat. It dropped to the ground, clutching at the wound.
Hall felt claws ripping into his arm, almost making him drop the spear as he grabbed it with his right arm, intending to point it back at the Goblin. The fast creature had leaped at him, landing and attacking with the wicked claws on its hand. Hall jabbed at it with the butt end of the spear, pushing the creature back. Blood leaked down his arm from the wound.
The cuts weren’t deep, no muscle or nerves cut.
I need a short sword, he thought as he kept jabbing at the creature. It moved fast, avoiding the attacks, not giving Hall a chance to reverse his spear and bring the sharp tip back. Hall kept moving, side to side, only a couple steps, hoping to avoid another rock from the Chief’s sling.
Skirmishers abilities all revolved around the spear and javelin but they were able to train in small weapons like short swords and daggers. None of which did him any good now. He had a dagger, but the reach was not good, and he was untrained in the Small Blades skill so would just get the minimum weapon damage.
Another stone slammed into the ground at his feet.
He faced the Goblin. It had a club in one hand, his blood dripping from the claws of the other. With a vicious smile, the creature licked at the blood drops, it eyes locked on Halls.
The club batted at the wooden shaft of Hall’s spear. Another stone hit the ground a foot to the left, ricocheting up and grazing Hall’s shin.
“Enough of this crap,” Hall said with one last jab at the Goblin in front of him.
The creature stepped to the side, batting the shaft with its club. The shaft fell to the ground, surprising the Goblin. Its eyes followed the weapon as it clattered against the ground. Its eyes lifted up in time to see Hall take the couple steps to close the distance.
Hall drew his dagger with his left hand, the blade pointing down. The weapon had a short blade. Only five inches, it would have to do.
He barreled into the Goblin, swinging up with his left hand. The edge of his blade cut across the Goblins arm. His weight drove them both to the ground. They landed hard, the Goblin under Hall. It tried to move the heavier Half-Elf but could not.
Hall couldn’t get at it with his left arm. He yelled out as the Goblin's claws raked across his back. Once. Twice.
Pushing up with his knees, he got some space between himself and the smaller creature under him. He stabbed down with his dagger, connected with the Goblin's chest. The creature clawed at him, and Hall stabbed down again and again. Blood fountained up, the Goblin no longer clawing but batting at Hall. He ignored it, stabbing again.
The Goblin no longer moved, its arms falling limp.
Breathing heavy, Hall stood up only to catch a large rock in the shoulder. He staggered back a step, almost falling over. Looking up to the top of the depression, he saw the
Goblin Chief searching the ground for another stone.
“Bastard,” he yelled and Leaped into the air.
He didn’t have the Flying Aim ability yet. The ability increased his targeting while leaping and throwing, but he could still throw from the air. It was always a difficult maneuver, throwing a javelin from the air. Hall hoped he got lucky.
Grabbing the javelin, he let it fly at the Chief.
He got lucky.
The Goblin had not moved, finding a stone. It stood up fully, smiling and putting the stone in its sling. It heard the whistle of the javelin, looking up to catch the weapon in its shoulder. It staggered back, dropping the sling.
Hall landed ten feet farther from where he had jumped, that much closer to the Chief. He landed and ran the last few feet. He had grabbed his spear on the run, jabbing out with the weapon. He speared the Goblin Chief through the chest. The Goblin stepped back, taking the spear with it, but Hall grabbed it first and pulled it from the Chief’s shoulder.
Screaming in pain, the Chief tried to punch out at him but Hall took the punch on his arm and batted the Chief’s arm away. He stabbed into the opening with the spear, scoring another hit. The Chief fell down, off-balance, a javelin sticking out of its shoulder. It tried to get up but couldn’t as Hall’s boot pressed down on its stomach.
Pushing down with all his weight, Hall pulled the javelin out of the Goblins shoulder before it could attack with its arms. The Goblin yelped in pain, which became a gurgle as Hall’s javelin stabbed into its throat.
He pulled the javelin out again, ready to stab down to make sure the Chief was dead. Sounds from the hollow pulled his attention. He saw Roxhard wildly swing his axe.
One of the Goblin raiders was down, not moving, but the other was dancing out of the way of Roxhard’s swings. It was toying with the Dwarf, keeping just far enough out of the reach, waiting for the Dwarf to tire. Roxhard was bleeding from multiple wounds, moving with a limp that indicated one of his legs was numb. A club must have connected with a nerve.