by Scott
The goblin was overcome by surprise and relief. He wasn't going to be punished? But he had failed his master…
Saeter strode over to his campsite and rummaged through a bag. This left Blacknail confused as to what was going on, but he approached and stood beside Saeter. After a few seconds, Saeter pulled out some cord and leather. He took out a needle and pulled the cord through the two leather pieces several times to create a crude loincloth, which he tied around Blacknail's waist. Blacknail was now quite confused and gave his master an uncomprehending look. What was going on? Saeter was a strange master.
“You'll wear this at all times or you’ll be punished. You'd better learn to make these yourself or you'll be punished. If you want warmer or better clothes, then you will have to make them yourself,” Saeter told Blacknail sternly as the perplexed goblin adjusted the loincloth around his waist.
“Yes, master. I wear this always. I learn to work so I not be punished,” he replied submissively. For good effect, he also fell to his knees and groveled a bit. Well, a lot more than a bit actually. Grovelling was his go-to response in almost every situation. That and running away as fast as his little legs would carry him.
The loincloth was useless and annoying to wear, but it was obviously a sign of his master's ownership and protection. Hopefully once the other humans saw he belonged to Saeter, it would prevent them from hitting or killing him.
The tall human nodded in satisfaction at Blacknail's response. The goblin took this as a sign to climb back to his feet.
Just then, a deep female voice rang out through the clearing. “Saeter, you old recluse, I can't imagine what's going through your head. To just skip out on helping load up all the loot, without so much as a word, and to do what? Muck around with a bloody goblin!”
Blacknail looked over to see a tall muscular woman with short brown hair approaching. She was taller than most of the men in the camp, except for Saeter, but she looked stronger than him. However, her body was obviously that of a female and she still had a feminine figure, just a large one.
The woman wore a heavy cloth shirt that was partly unlaced at the top to reveal her ample cleavage. She wore practical leather pants and carried a rather large sword at her hip. Most importantly, she didn’t look like a threat. The big grin on her face, her cheerful green eyes, and the relaxed way she held herself made Blacknail think she wasn't dangerous to him.
“Hello, Vorscha. I'm busy,” Saeter responded with barely a glance her way.
Following Vorscha was a male bandit. He was shorter and thinner than the woman, and his long brown hair was tied back in a ponytail. Saeter was a somewhat skinny man, but he made up for it by being tall. This man was just of average height. His clothing looked to be of good quality, but it had plainly seen better days and was somewhat worn. His eyes, however, were intelligent and energetic.
The woman beside him, who had yelled earlier, ignored Saeter's rude reply to her and continued speaking as if he hadn't said anything. “If I was gonna take something from the wagons and run off with it, I wouldn't pick a frigging goblin, that's for sure. Only you could ever be that weird. In this entire pack of violent outcasts, you are the weirdest by far, and Aerac makes little dolls out of radishes. That's the kind of people you're competing against.”
“I'm the band's best tracker and hunter. I'm busy here doing my job, and it's not to load wagons,” he replied calmly.
Vorscha snorted, but her eyes were shining. She didn’t seem angry. “Arrogant prick, aren't you? Well, you're by far the most experienced tracker around anyway. How does playing around with a bloody goblin have anything to do with anything though? You should just get rid of it. We have enough problems with goblins stealing stuff without actually inviting them into camp.”
Blacknail's opinion of the woman dropped as she spoke. He’d never stolen anything from anybody! People just left stuff lying around everywhere for some reason. How was he supposed to know it was theirs?
“In about an hour, I've gotten this little fellow to do more work and show more smarts than most of the people around here. Once I get him properly trained up, he's going to be a valuable tool. Unlike that skinny boy toy you've got following you around,” Saeter replied as he threw a disdainful look at Vorscha and the man behind her.
Vorscha laughed, but the man behind her scowled at Saeter. Blacknail smiled in pride at his master's compliment. He was useful!
“Oh, Geralhd isn't so bad. He's just a helpless city boy and new to the glamorous outlaw lifestyle. We were all stupid little shits once. I'll have him broken in soon enough,” she said with a laugh.
Geralhd winced. He was clearly embarrassed but decided to speak up anyway. “Thank you, Vorscha, but I am more than capable of speaking for myself. I may not have been born out in the woods with a sword in my hand, Saeter, but I plan on surviving, so I'm learning to do what I must.”
Saeter eyed him and grunted doubtfully. “Why do you keep taking fools like this under your wing, Vorscha? He's gonna get himself killed one way or another, just like the last one.”
Geralhd looked startled for a second before giving Saeter a dark glare.
Vorscha shrugged her muscular shoulders. “Why are you still out here, Saeter? You've been roaming the North longer than most of the men here have been alive. Anyone else would have retired long ago. This isn't a place or a profession for men who have seen as many winters as you. You know better than anyone that sooner or later, something will kill you out here. Hells, even the bounty on your head expired years ago.”
Saeter didn't answer right away. Instead he sighed and turned away from them, looking out into the green expanse of forest off to his side for a second. Then his gaze swept back over the camp. Blacknail didn't know exactly what he was looking at, but he seemed to be deep in thought.
“There ain't no fool like an old fool,” Saeter finally responded with a tired sigh.
Vorscha nodded and sighed as well. “It's just who we are.”
Geralhd looked a little taken aback by the unexpected serious turn in the conversation. Blacknail was having a lot of problems understanding what the humans were saying. They were using a lot of words and concepts he didn't know. They suddenly seemed kind of sad though. It made him uncomfortable for some reason.
“Well, let's see this goblin of yours then,” Vorscha said with sudden cheer in an obvious attempt to lighten the conversation.
She moved to stand over Blacknail. The goblin smiled at her. He tried to look harmless and to absolutely not think about picking up things that didn't belong to him. Geralhd hesitantly moved up beside her to look over the goblin as well.
“Doesn't seem like much to me. Looks pretty much the same as every other goblin around these parts,” Vorscha said casually.
Blacknail felt deeply insulted, which was weird because he had no idea what goblins around here were like at all. They could be purple and twice the size of humans for all he knew, but if they went around stealing things, they were nothing like him.
“It's a little bigger and darker though, murkier. A lot of goblins here have some hair on their heads, and this one doesn't. Huh, I've never been this close to live goblin before,” Geralhd observed with interest.
Blacknail found the man's intense scrutiny uncomfortable. He also thought he sensed fear from the thin man. That made no sense to the goblin. He was the one at the mercy of a group of gigantic killers! Humans were weird.
“You can move closer. He's not gonna bite you, Geralhd. Are you, Blacknail?” Saeter asked Blacknail snidely.
“No, master. I never bite humans, never,” Blacknail replied vigorously with a look of affronted horror. Goblins who bit or hit humans didn't last long in the sewers.
“By the gods, it talks. That's unnatural,” Vorscha exclaimed and took a surprised step back.
This time it was Geralhd who chuckled. “All goblins can talk. Most just don't speak Elorian. They have their own primitive languages. Goblins can develop fairly sophisticated societies, after all.
Or at least they did before the ancient Goblin Wars. I've never heard of a goblin who could speak Elorian this well though. How interesting.”
Saeter rolled his eyes in annoyance at the other man's tone.
“Hey, pretty boy! Don't you know you're always supposed to agree with me? You're just lucky you're cute or you never would have lasted this long out here,” Vorscha said with fake outrage as she punched Geralhd lightly in the arm.
The smaller man blushed a little and turned away with a cough to hide his embarrassment, which only made Vorscha laugh.
“If you two are done inspecting my goblin, why don't you get back to work? I'm sure you have very important things to do. I know I do,” Saeter told them dismissively.
Vorscha met his rudeness with a smile though. She seemed to be immune to Saeter's grumpiness. “I'm one of the band's best fighters and thieves. I'm busy doing my job, and it's not to load wagons,” she replied snidely with laughing eyes.
Geralhd chuckled, and Saeter gave them both an annoyed frown. The goblin had to stifle a smile of his own. The woman’s grin and mood were infectious.
“Very funny, but I'm actually training Blacknail to help me hunt. You're just standing around being as useful as tits on a boar,” Saeter countered.
“Master is, yes,” Blacknail added with a serious nod in order to back up Saeter.
Geralhd and Vorscha threw him amused looks.
“Well, if the young goblin here says it’s so, then it must be true,” Geralhd commented sarcastically.
Blacknail didn't like his tone of voice. He suspected he was being made fun of.
“Anyway, sorry to disappoint you, Saeter, but Geralhd and I finished our jobs a while ago. Relaxing here in camp is where we're supposed to be,” Vorscha explained.
“Then why don't you go tell Herad that I'll be out hunting for a bit? Tell her I'll bring back something for the victory celebration tonight,” Saeter told them sternly.
He clearly wasn't looking for any more conversation, which was fine with Blacknail. He didn't want to be around the offensive lady named Vorscha either. He was so not a thief.
“Ah, avoiding Herad, are you? Good idea, she's still fuming. This was supposed to be an easy, bloodless job but that thrice-damned mage killed several of our guys before a lucky arrow took him out,” Vorscha replied.
“I thought the entire point of coming down South was to avoid fighting,” Geralhd added in a skeptical tone. “The local lords were supposed to have grown too weak to defend the merchants.”
Saeter huffed dismissively. “Those weren’t knights or lord’s men, just merchants’ guards. I’m guessing we just got unlucky in our choice of targets.”
“We must have. Mages with crystals like his should have better things to do than guard caravans out in the middle of nowhere. He might have simply been traveling with the merchants,” Vorscha remarked.
“Who knows why mages do bloody anything? The guilds seem to spend more time being mysterious than they do doing anything useful,” Saeter replied with a disdainful sneer.
“You're wrong about that. The illustrious mage guilds spend most of their valuable time fighting and killing each other over secrets and politics,” Geralhd joked. “Every once in a while, they also manage to actually get some research on magic crystals or Elixirs done.”
“Well, whatever he was doing here, it certainly cost us some comrades,” Vorscha added soberly.
Blacknail grew tired of standing around listening to the humans talk about things he didn't understand. He sat back down and absently scratched an itch on his neck.
“Just means more loot for us,” Saeter commented with ill-humor.
“Ha, you mean more loot for our fearsome leader, Herad. I doubt any of us will see much in the way of extra coin,” Geralhd replied.
“Both of you should be more respectful to the fallen. Next time it could be one of us who dies with some caravan guard's blade through our guts,” Vorscha told them.
“Or set aflame and burned alive by a combat mage like poor Guts. I can still smell bacon,” Geralhd said with a shudder.
“Poor Guts? The man was a wanted murderer, deserter, and a rapist,” Saeter remarked.
“Aren't we all? I assume that's why we're all out here in the freezing North, hiding in these accursed woods and robbing passing travelers,” Geralhd countered.
“Some crimes are worse than others, and your reasons for doing them matter. Even Herad had the women and children from the caravan released with a horse and wagon,” Saeter muttered darkly.
“Well, I don't know about you two, but I'm not a rapist. Although I do have the occasional dark fantasy,” Vorscha joked cheerfully as she threw Geralhd a meaningful glance.
The thin man looked uncomfortable and turned away. He coughed lightly, then tried to divert the conversation. “Speaking of Herad, did you see her fight that Elixir user? He came out of nowhere and almost pushed us back on the left flank. Herad had to go out and fight him herself. That was quite the show. I've seen Vessels duel before, but this was quite different. It was brutal, bloody, and lightning fast. Almost makes me want to try to get my hands on some Elixir.”
“Not me. I've seen what Elixir does to people who take it and aren't lucky enough to become Vessels. Sometimes even proper Vessels get addicted to the stuff. Neither of those is an easy way to die. Herad's welcome to it, but I'm sticking to good old-fashioned muscle power,” Vorscha told him as she flexed her arms.
“Also, Elixir is a little expensive and hard to get if you're an outlaw on the frontier,” Saeter added sarcastically. “The lords tend to discourage the guilds from selling it to the likes of us.”
By this point, Blacknail had completely lost interest in the conversation and was barely paying attention. He gave a quiet yawn and rested his head on his knees.
“Herad must have used up a fair bit of her Elixir in that fight then,” Geralhd mused aloud.
Saeter gave him a disproving look. “Word of warning, boy. It's not a good idea to go around talking about how much Elixir Herad has left. She might believe you're thinking of challenging her, and she can be touchy about that.”
Vorscha nodded, and Geralhd looked chastened.
“Anyway, I need to be on my way. I can't waste all morning talking to you two,” Saeter abruptly announced. He turned away from them without saying another word and grabbed a bag from his camp before walking off toward the woods. “Come on, Blacknail,” he called without turning around or even slowing.
Instantly the goblin got up from where he had been slowly drifting to sleep in the grass and sauntered after his master, leaving the two bandits standing by themselves. Finally something to do other than sit around and listen to humans blab on and on about stupid things, Blacknail thought as he walked.
“He's a miserable old bastard, isn’t he?” Geralhd said to Vorscha.
“You should see him around people he actually doesn't like. I'm practically his best friend around here,” Vorscha responded cheerfully.
As Blacknail approached the woods, he regretted his earlier enthusiasm for doing something more exciting. The trees loomed before him as Saeter waited for him at their edge. He had really been hoping that since he had reached the camp, his master wouldn’t make him go into the forest anymore.
Saeter gave the goblin an impatient look and took an angry step toward him. Blacknail swallowed nervously but scurried into the shadows of the trees. He didn’t want to make his master angry and get a beating.
As he moved through the bushes at the edge of the clearing, the goblin’s heart pounded and he felt the blood drain from his face. Blacknail didn’t know what was waiting for him in the forest, but his every instinct screamed that he was about to enter somewhere dangerous.
Chapter 4
After a few minutes of walking through the woods, Saeter turned to Blacknail and gave him an appraising look. The goblin was nervously scanning the trees around him for threats. He couldn’t see any, but that didn't mean they weren't there…
“Well, it's obvious you're no forest creature; you're shaking like a leaf. I’ll have to start your training out slow then. Just follow me and be quiet unless you want a smack. You'll get used to being out in the deep green. You're a goblin, after all,” Saeter explained to Blacknail.
“I follow master quiet-like,” whispered the goblin. He could do that. He sneaked around places all the time.
Saeter grunted in affirmation before moving out. His long strides quickly carried him deeper into the emerald forest. Blacknail hurried after him. He made his best effort to keep up and make as little noise as possible. He stepped gently, avoided twigs and leaves, crept over logs, and kept low to the ground. Just as he was about to congratulate himself on being so quiet, he realized he had a problem. His legs were too small and short!
His master’s long strides were leaving him behind, and while Saeter could walk casually, Blacknail had to jog. Where Saeter stepped over logs and mud, Blacknail had to jump. He couldn't do that and be sneaky at the same time! There was no way he was going to be left behind though, so he pushed his pace.
Blacknail managed to keep up, but as they moved deeper into the woods, a cloud of insects gathered. Soon a black buzzing swarm had formed around them. Well, mostly around Blacknail. His master was protected by his thick long clothes. Meanwhile, Blacknail's loincloth did pretty much nothing to help him. The flies and mosquitoes seemed to prefer the goblin for some reason, as well. Probably because Saeter was old and skinny, so he probably didn't taste good.
Blacknail tried to swat the flying pests, but there were far too many of them. As a goblin, he had thick skin, but the bites were still painful and annoying. His frantic motions failed to deter the swarm, but they slowed him down and made him fall behind again. He had never seen, or felt, so many mosquitoes. He hissed angrily at the swarm, but apparently it wasn't impressed because they just continued biting him.
“My blood, go away!” Blacknail barked at them.
Luckily, he knew a way to protect himself. After looking around, he spotted a muddy puddle. The goblin gleefully jumped in and rolled around. The wet sludge was so cool and soothing as it enveloped his skin that he squealed in happiness. The stupid bugs wouldn't be able to bite him through all the mud! After coating himself, he got to his feet… and found his master staring at him.