Ryson did not respond. He sniffed the air again, and then put a hand to his chin. He crouched deep in thought as he considered their findings.
The elf turned his gaze upon the delver. "You are confused. What's wrong?"
"The smell," Ryson acknowledged. "It's strange to me."
"It was the smell that made you uncover the undead, was it not?"
"Yes, but this is different. This isn't decay. This is something totally new."
The elf took a moment to cast a glance at the outline of Sanctum. "If I am right about the sphere," he whispered, "and now I believe I am certain, there is magic in the air. That may be what affects your smell."
"The scent is coming from that group," Ryson insisted. "They're the source."
"More evil," Lief mumbled as he turned his attention back to the unidentified strangers. "I see another. I'm sure there are now at least four. They wear thick breast plates. I believe they are warriors of some type."
"Perhaps, but they're not human," Ryson said with great certainty.
"They may be dwarves," Lief interjected. "That would explain their apparent size. It would explain the chest plates, although they only wear armor in times of battle. I wish I could see their faces."
Ryson blinked at the thought. "Dwarves?"
The elf quickly reminded Ryson of the situation he faced. "Remember your legends, delver. You see before you an elf, and you have faced the undead. Take my word for what it is. Dwarves still live in this world."
"I guess it's possible."
"But still confusing," Lief added. "Dwarves do not make a practice of mulling about in the woods, even close to a mountain. They live in the comfort and security of tunnel caves. Daylight is not kind to their eyes. I can not understand why they might be here."
The elf paused a second before offering his own theory. "Perhaps they are also aware of the freed magic. They might be here to inspect the tomb. It would explain much."
Ryson made it clear he wanted more than just a plausible theory before they disregarded this encounter. "How can we be sure?"
Lief responded with quick certainty. "We need to get a better look at them. Dwarves are unmistakable in feature. All are stout and powerful. They are shorter than the average human. Their faces are much like yours or mine except stern, as if chiseled. The men wear long beards, and most let their hair grow full and long. They wield axe, mace, and broadsword."
"Excellent," Ryson exclaimed. "Let me go and have a look at them. I'll come back and tell you if your description fits."
Lief's voice grew stern and demanding. "You do not intend to go alone? I shall accompany you!"
The delver shook his head. "No. I'll move easier if I only have to worry about myself."
"But that is not all you have to worry about," Lief responded adamantly. "You face many things you know little of. I can not let you blunder mindlessly into such a thing."
"I have no intention of blundering into anything. I fully intend on being as careful as possible."
"You will take greater care if I am with you."
"I don't think so," Ryson whispered. "This is what I do. You've seen me move, do you really question my abilities? I can investigate without being seen or heard, but to do it well, I have to move alone."
Lief considered what he had already learned watching the delver upon this day. He could not deny the skills which were inherently the delver's. He accepted the situation, although reluctantly. "Very well, but take heed. Dwarves are known to be dangerous. They are strong and deadly with their weapons. If you arouse them, they might attack. If you are spotted, I suggest you flee. It is your best chance. I can tell you truly, no dwarf could match you in speed and agility."
"I'll remember that. I'll be back in a moment. This shouldn't take very long."
Ryson looked about quickly before leaping to a higher branch. He continued climbing, barley making a sound or even disturbing a single leaf. As soon he was several lengths above his previous position, he moved toward the unidentified persons. High in the trees, the delver used the cover of the branches and leaves to his every advantage. He became less a shadow and more a part of the trees themselves. He made his way to a better vantage point before dropping down several branches. He quickly obtained a position which allowed a clear view of the group below. He pulled the spyscope from his pouch and gained close view of his quarry. He found the spectacle most surprising. The characteristics he spotted did not come close to matching the description given by the elf. Except for the short stature, these creatures looked nothing like dwarves.
Closer to the group, he counted seven in all. They were odd looking, actually disgusting creatures. They had round, balloon-like heads, with a grayish tint, maybe even a hint of purple. Thick heavy skin, apparently layers and layers, swelled around the cheeks and eyes. It made their faces look puffy and swollen. Thin lips outlined very wide mouths. Within these mouths, Ryson saw long disorganized rows of small, square teeth. Thin wisps of wiry gray and black hair dotted their round heads. Their noses were different and unique from creature to creature. Some had short, round noses. Others had long pointed ones. One had no true nose at all, only two nostril openings at the center of its face.
As for their weapons, they carried small crossbows draped over their backs, and they wore short swords at their sides. They wore thick plates covering their chests. It was their only protection.
Ryson listened as the creatures continued to mull about the ground. They spoke in muffled grumblings. The delver could not decipher a single word.
Before leaving his position, he peered about looking for any stragglers or guards. With careful eyes, the delver quickly spotted a single creature hiding up in the branches over the others. This guard cradled a crossbow in its arms.
Secure that he was aware of all the potential hazards, Ryson silently returned to Lief's side. He whispered his report hoping to gain comprehension from the elf's viewpoint.
"Goblins!" the elf whispered with a heavy sign. "As if I needed another sign to accept the dark truth of what we now face."
"Goblins?" Ryson exclaimed in a weary voice, yet another surprise, another unexpected twist to this mind-boggling experience.
"Yes, goblins. It's further proof that the sphere is free from imprisonment. Goblins can not survive without magic, not in this plane of existence. They are creatures of the dark. Some say they come up from the underground with the help of magic, but the dwarves never agreed with that theory. They contend they fall from trees, like overripe fruit. I don't know where they come from, but I know the last was seen long ago. They did not last long after the war over the sphere. I have never seen one. My father fought one of the last groups in a suicide battle, but that was long, long ago. Apparently, they are back."
"So what do we do?"
The elf quickly considered the available options. "How many did you see?"
"There are seven on the ground. There is one in the tree over their heads. I assume he is there to protect the others. He has his crossbow drawn and loaded."
"Puny numbers," Lief said indignantly. "The true threat of the goblin lies in their numbers. I have heard stories of them attacking in hundreds of thousands. They darken the land and fill the sky with their arrows. I also know that they are not the bravest of creatures. Such a small group, they must be very worried. A single guard in a tree will give them little protection."
Ryson recalled other factors and revealed them to Lief. "They mumbled a lot, but I couldn't understand what they were saying. They seemed to be looking around, almost as if they were waiting for something."
"They are probably waiting for their numbers to swell, hiding in the trees until they feel more comfortable with the size of their group. We won't give them a chance."
Ryson noted the belligerent tone in the elf's voice. "What do you intend to do?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.
"I intend to break up their party before they grow into a threatening herd," Lief answered with a cold chill tainting his words. He
could not hide his animosity, and did not wish to. "I seek answers. These cretins may hold such answers. It is a perfect opportunity. Doubtless, they are unaware of our presence. We can take them with little difficulty. I doubt they will do little more than run."
As if there was to be no discussion, Lief gave his orders. "I want you to approach the guard. Knock him to the ground. When you strike, I will move from lower within the trees. I intend to take at least one out with an arrow. Then, I will swoop down upon them. They will flee, but I will capture one."
"You're going to kill one of them?" Great reluctance became very evident in the face of the delver.
"I can't kill anything."
Lief's eyes narrowed, his loathing more apparent. "I will take care of that, not you."
"But I won't be a part of it, either."
The elf bit back a flash of anger. He looked almost scornfully at the delver. His own hate and dispassion for the race of goblins exploded like a flare. "Very well, I will go alone."
"I'll warn them," Ryson stated firmly, revealing he had no intention of backing down.
Lief's anger doubled, tripled. He was about to condemn the delver with every curse known to the elves, but his anger soon gave way to understanding. He saw compassion in the eyes of the delver. It was not fear which spurred Ryson to refuse the plan, it was a respect for life.
"I see," the elf grumbled. "Is there any way to convince you that what you protect is unworthy of such lofty standards?"
"No," Ryson responded simply.
"Very well." Lief gave one final glance at the outline of Sanctum in the distance. Under ordinary circumstances, he would have staunchly argued the lowly worthlessness of the goblin. Their renewed existence in the land filled him with malevolence and disgust, but it also underscored the nature of his worst fears. Great magic is needed to allow goblins to pass upon the land, this was undeniable, magic which could only be found in the Sphere of Ingar. The thought hammered at him, and the growing importance of the sphere left little time to debate the issue.
"You give me no choice. I will not press you to change your mind at this time. I will only tell you that you may eventually be forced into a position where such high standards become impossible. I do not think you understand the severity of the situation you face. One day a horde of these creatures may attack your home. They will not think twice about killing every inhabitant."
"That may be," Ryson allowed, "but that is not yet the case. I won't be part of unnecessary killing."
"Like I said before, I won't attempt to change your mind at this time. Will you accept my plan if I promise I will not hit any of the loathsome creatures with my arrow? Instead, I will send several that will miss the mark. That will serve to create confusion and force the goblins to flee. I will then capture one."
"I'll take your word for that," Ryson acknowledged. "And I accept it."
"Very good. Let us move now. Each moment we delay, the goblins entertain the chance for increasing their numbers. I will go this way." The elf pointed to a low path within the branches to his left. "I will stop roughly forty paces from their position. When I see the guard tumble from the tree, I will shoot four or five arrows over their heads. After you take out the guard, remain within the branches. If you drop to close to the goblins, they might strike out at you in the confusion. They will not regard your life with the same high standard you afford them."
"I understand."
"Go now!" the elf commanded before moving off in his afore designated direction.
The delver paused for but a moment, then followed a different path back toward the goblins. He gritted his teeth to fight back his growing anxieties over the danger he now faced. While he remained in control of his movements, his thoughts swelled over the image of facing hundreds of goblins, no less hundreds of thousands.
What was happening to the world he lived upon? He fought the undead, traveled with an elf, and now planned to attack goblins. If not for the seriousness with which his parents told him of the legends, he would have believed himself insane. Yet now, the legends were revealing themselves to him, revealing themselves in a way which he could not simply dismiss as illusion or dream.
In such instances of distraction, Ryson focused upon the task at hand. It was time to force the maddening puzzles from his consciousness and allow the deepest of his instincts to control his movements. He stalked the goblins from above. He glided from branch to branch with such diligence that the guard had no warning of his approach.
The delver gained a position high above the guard, then moved downward. Spiraling around the trunk, Ryson used branches and leaves to cover his advance. He gained a position within arms reach before the goblin even knew of his existence.
The goblin shifted its head at the sign of a disturbance. It growled in surprise and fear as a shadowy figure moved swiftly toward it.
Before the puffy face turned completely about, the delver pulled the crossbow from out of its hands. He thew it aside. It crashed through the branches and fell harmlessly to the ground. Ryson quickly grabbed the heavy chest plate of the goblin. He twisted and pulled until the goblin became displaced from the thick bough it clung to.
As Ryson held the goblin aloft in mid-air, the creature looked up and snarled. Foamed spit cascaded from its angry mouth.
The creature weighed barely more than a small child, and Ryson had no difficulty in maintaining his grip. He saw the distance to the ground and decided not to simply drop the goblin. Instead, he hoped to lower it before releasing his hold, thus reducing the risk of injury to the creature.
The goblin, however, did not care about the possibility of falling. It remained far more concerned about being in the grip of a trespasser. It continued to snarl and spit as it waved its hands in the air. Suddenly, it found its balance and quickly brought its right arm to its side. The goblin grasped the hilt of a short sword and pulled the blade from its sheath.
The disturbance in the tree alerted the other goblins below. More snarls and growls erupted. The goblins raced about and around the tree. They pulled their crossbows from their backs and began pulling bolts from pouches attached to their waistbands.
Before any of the ground level goblins could load their crossbows, long powerful arrows sizzled through the air just above their heads. Four shafts whistled by with great force and plunged into the surrounding tree trunks.
The goblins fell into disarray. Their concern over their comrade above vanished instantly. Panic divided them. Without great numbers, they knew of their extreme vulnerability. They scattered without a second thought.
Ryson ignored the commotion below him. He concentrated on keeping his grip on the goblin as he lowered himself down the tree. He shook the goblin with all the force he could muster to keep the creature from striking at him.
The goblin fought against its capture. It made two attempts to strike at Ryson's arm, but each time it failed. Just as it lifted its hand to swing, it was jostled with great force, and the blade struck empty air. It seemed ambivalent to the distance to the ground as it continued to strive for a clean strike. Such a chance opened when the goblin gained hold of another branch with its free hand. Suddenly steadied, the goblin resisted the shaking of the delver. Gleeful fury filled its eyes as it prepared to amputate Ryson's arm.
Only the skill and quickness of being a delver allowed Ryson to avoid the blow. He released hold of the goblin and pulled his arm back. The blade of the short sword passed harmlessly through the air.
The goblin, no longer supported by the delver, found itself unprepared to maintain its grip on the branch. It could not hold its own weight and it plummeted to the ground. It landed with a perplexing bounce, almost as if its body were made of rubber. The creature appeared no worse for wear and scrambled to its feet. In but a mere instant, it was quickly scurrying off into thicker cover.
At that same moment, Lief jumped into the clearing once occupied by the goblins. He swirled his head about. His eyes darted over the different paths of the departin
g creatures.
With barely a delay, he seized upon one trail. He leapt after the scurrying goblin with stone-like determination. Over rocky and rooted soil, he raced through the forest keeping his eyes locked upon the fleeing creature. He slapped branches away from his path as he continued to pursue.
The goblin made chase difficult. It used its size to its advantage, choosing narrow paths under low lying branches. It jumped through thick brush whenever possible. It also turned frequently as it used its greater mobility to out distance the elf.
Lief continued to follow relentlessly even as the distance between the two increased. He ignored the stinging pain to his face as pine needles brushed against his cheeks. Eventually, however, he realized the futility of his chase. He pulled to a halt and quickly drew an arrow from his quiver. He placed it upon the string of his bow, but before he could draw, the delver called to him.
"Don't shoot it!" Ryson commanded. The delver darted past the elf almost as a blur. Such was the speed he moved past Lief, the elf felt a small breeze.
Ryson took up the chase where Lief left off, but the delver moved at far greater speed. He cut through each barrier of the forest as if it were nothing more than tissue paper. He turned with pinpoint accuracy and quickly cut the distance between himself and the goblin. In mere moments, he reached out and grabbed the back of the goblin's neck.
This time, the delver would take no chances in losing control of the creature. His hand darted to the goblin's belt and beat the creature to the handle of the short sword. He drew it away from the creature but held it threateningly.
The goblin eyed first the point of its own sword and then the delver. It hissed once, then became still, as if accepting its fate.
Ryson carried the goblin to a clearing in the forest. He dropped it to the ground but made it clear the goblin was not to move. He kept his eyes on the creature as he called for the elf.
Delver Magic Book I: Sanctum's Breach Page 6