by Adam Drake
He slowly emerged from the trees, making no effort to hide himself. “Hey, how's it going?”
The two people looked at him quizzically. The man said, “Who are you, and what are you doing here?”
“I'm the guy who was tracking this little bastard here,” Rob said indicating the goblin corpse. “And now you've killed him. Thanks a lot.”
“A good goblin is a dead goblin,” the woman said. Here blonde hair was pulled up in a tight bun. “Why were you hunting this thing? It's vermin.”
“No argument there,” Rob said. “But I was hoping it would take me to others. There's a goblin hideout somewhere in this area.”
The man and woman exchanged a look. The man said, “Drop your weapon and your shield.”
“It's not a shield.” Rob said.
“Beg pardon?”
“Beg all you want, won't change the fact that this is not a shield. It's a buckler. And if you expect me to disarm myself it ain't going to happen. You just killed my one lead to the hideout so I'm not too happy with you right now.”
“Well, you're a cocky one,” the woman said, looking him over. “And a low level cocky one at that.”
Rob noticed a dead animal laying on its side behind them. It appeared to be a donkey, a dozen arrow hilts sticking out of its hide.
“You guys graduating from killing donkeys to killing goblins?”
“No,” the man said. “It's our donkey.” The man was short and stout, the arms holding the bow never wavering.
“Was your donkey,” Rob said. “Past tense. Why's it dead?”
“You ask a lot of questions for someone about to be filled full of arrows, himself,” the woman said.
“I'm a curious man, it's in my nature,” Rob said, but felt his need to continue bantering with them wane. He decided on a different tactic. “My name's Rob by the way, in case you wanted to know what to put on my tombstone.”
The man and woman were quiet a moment, then the woman said, “I'm Paxx, this hunk of muscle next to me is Kortz.”
Rob said, “I'd like to say it's nice to meet you both, but you did just kill my one chance of finding the hideout.”
Paxx and Kortz glanced at each other, then slowly lowered their bows, but kept the arrows nocked.
“I've never apologized for killing a goblin before and I don't think I'm going to start,” Paxx said. “Why are you looking for this hideout? A quest?”
Rob lowered his mace and eased his stance. “Yeah, I need to rid them from the valley so my people can feel safe.”
“What people?” Kortz said.
“My royal subjects. I'm king in these here parts.” He said the last with a terrible texas drawl.
“Uh huh,” Paxx said. “And, maybe I'm the Queen of the Many Hells.”
“You can be, at times,” Kortz said to her with a hint of a smile.
Paxx snorted. “Oh, you think so? Well, guess who's sleeping outside the tent tonight.” To Rob she said, “So you're really a king, huh? Of this place? What's it called?”
“Anika.”
“Sounds... unique,” Kortz said. “So why's a king running around the middle of the forest with poorly made gear and no army?”
Rob looked himself over. “These aren't poorly made. They've served me well, so far.”
Kortz shook his head. “They're poorly made. The links in that chainmail are twisted wrong and your mace is painted green.”
“The green is from some bugs a bashed. Didn't know about the chainmail, though.”
“Well, I should know. I'm a blacksmith.”
Rob froze. “Blacksmith? Really?”
“Yeah, why? Don't I look like a blacksmith?” Kortz said.
Paxx interjected. “You mean, don't we look like blacksmiths? Right?”
Kortz said, “You're not a blacksmith, you're an apprentice. And a pretty one at that.”
Rob barely registered their banter. He had a quest to recruit a blacksmith. His kingdom needed one, badly. For the moment, the goblin was forgotten. This was more important. He said, “So you're blacksmiths, for real?”
“Blacksmith and his apprentice, yes,” Kortz said.
Paxx scowled at Kortz. “It gets real cold outside the tent at night, ya know.”
“But my forge always burns hot for you no matter how far away you are,” Kortz said.
“And you best remember who stokes those fires of yours, mister blacksmith, or you'll be playing with them all by your lonesome,” Paxx said.
Rob politely cleared his throat, and the others turned to look at him. He said, “Sorry to interrupt, but can you tell me what you're doing here in the middle of this forest with a dead donkey?”
After a glance at each other, Kortz said, “We're traveling to Casso. Or so we think. That's tentative. We crossed over these mountains to avoid the tolls some trogs wanted to us to pay for use of their tunnels, only to be set upon by bandits. They stole our anvil and killed our donkey. And that's about the point when we killed your goblin, which I'm still not apologizing for.”
“Oh,” Rob said. “Why Casso?”
Paxx quickly answered. “We're not going to Casso.”
“Yes we are,” Kortz said. “We're almost there.”
Paxx said, “Doesn't matter if we are or not. We're not going to the nexus of the blacksmithing universe where we'd be little japper fish in a sea of... well... lots of other japper fish. Most with more skills than us.”
“But we could learn so much there,” Kortz said.
Rob sensed this was an old argument, maybe one he could take advantage of. “Casso, huh? I heard they have a ton of blacksmiths there, too. Place is flooded with them.”
Kortz pinned him with a look. “Casso is renowned for them. But there's other skilled artisans there, too.” He turned his gaze back at Paxx. “It would be real foolish to come all this way and not, say, actually go there as planned.”
“Men make plans, women make decisions,” Paxx said, glowering back at him.
Rob feared they might turn their bows on each other. “So, I take it you two are married?”
“Engaged,” Paxx said, then added, “Tentatively.”
Oh, boy, Rob thought, then quickly said. “Might be what you to want was a place of your own to set up shop. One where you're the only, uh, japper fish around. A place not too far from Casso.” He said the last not knowing exactly how close Casso was, but didn't care. It sounded good.
Kortz tore his gaze from Paxx and asked, “Yeah, what place with that be?”
“My place,” Rob said.
The two were quiet for a moment until Kortz broke the silence. “You mean your kingdom?”
“Yeah, my kingdom. I need a blacksmith. And, uh, a blacksmith apprentice. I need both.”
“You don't have a blacksmith?” Paxx said.
“None.”
“What kind of kingdom doesn't have a blacksmith?” Kortz said, frowning. “It's one of the most basic things a kingdom should have. Can you even call this a kingdom without one?”
Rob shrugged. “We're just starting out and lack some basics, but it's a nice place.” Wow, what a terrible sales pitch.
The couple frowned in unison and Rob's heart sank. This didn't look good.
Paxx said, “How big is your kingdom?”
“Well, like I said, we're starting out so our population is small and our borders are... mercurial. But its potential is great.”
When they didn't say no right away, Rob quickly said, “Why don't you set up in the village for a couple of days? See what you think?”
“Village?” Kortz said. “Are you saying there's only a village in your kingdom?”
“Soon to be a town. Very soon. I have to retrieve a Foundation Stone first to kick that into gear. Later it can be a city, with your help.”
“I don't know,” Kortz said. “Listening to you describe the place makes me want to get to Casso even quicker.”
“Don't be a troll about it,” Paxx said. “What's a couple days going to hurt? Maybe we'll
like it.” To Rob she said, “Do you have an inn?”
“Uh...” Rob said.
Kortz rolled his eyes. “Oh, great.”
“We have buildings, kind of. And a castle.”
“Castle?” Kortz perked up. “What phase?”
Paxx said, “Doesn't matter the phase, a castle is a good sign of growth potential. Okay, we'll come and stay at your village for a few days.”
“We will?” Kortz said, but Paxx silenced him with a look.
Rob felt a flood of relief. A blacksmith. This would help give his kingdom a sense of legitimacy. Plus, they could make weapons and armor. Things were looking up.
“But on one condition,” Paxx said, “Get our anvil back. Can't create any blacksmith wonders without it.”
You have been offered a quest: “Between An Anvil And A Hard Place”
Retrieve the blacksmith's anvil from the bandits.
Reward: 750 Experience Points
Accept? Yes/No?
“Yes, of course,” Rob said. “Where did they take it?”
Kortz pointed east. “They ambushed us a ways back as we crossed a stream. Managed to rip the anvil off our donkey while we tried to defend ourselves. We ran, but thankfully they didn't chase us far, just shot arrows. Which you can see the donkey took most of the brunt of. Then we staggered our way here until it collapsed.”
Rob noted the sword sheathed on Kortz's hip and a dagger in Paxx's belt. “Can you two fight?”
“No. Not even a little,” Paxx said. “We're blacksmiths, not fighters. We make weapons, not use them.”
Rob indicated the dead goblin at their feet. “You killed this guy.”
Kortz shook his head. “There's a difference between fighting armed, combat seasoned bandits, and shooting an arrow into a goblin at point-blank range. No, we're definitely not fighters by any stretch.”
“How many robbers were there?”
“I don't know,” Paxx said. “They shot at us from the trees, yelling and screaming. But it was a lot.”
“Okay,” Rob said. “You two wait here. I'll try not to take too long.”
But before he could leave, Paxx said, “We'll help you.”
“We will?” Kortz said, incredulous. “Why would we want to help him? We nearly got killed.”
Paxx scowled at him. “Fine. Then I'll go help him. You can stand here and guard the dead donkey if you feel like that's the best way to retrieve our anvil.” She marched past him and over to Rob.
“Okay, okay,” Kortz said, shoulders sagging in defeat. “We'll all die together.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
They led Rob through the forest along a narrow path. Trees towered over them and the canopy above nearly blocked out the sky. The underbrush on either side was thick, perfect for bandits to set up an ambush.
As they carefully walked along the path, Rob noticed the Shale Mite was missing. Its health bar was still visible, so it hadn't died. “Wait a second,” he said.
Kortz and Paxx halted, looking around nervously.
“What? Do you hear something?” Paxx said, bow at the ready.
“No, I need to get my friend,” Rob said, then said, “Heel!”
For several moments there was silence, then a dull thrumming came from the canopy above.
The Shale Mite suddenly emerged, flying around a large tree.
“Shale Mite!” Paxx shouted in alarm, and they both aimed their bows.
“Whoa! Stop!” Rob said, blocking them with his body. “This one is summoned.”
The Shale Mite landed on the ground next to his feet. A long proboscis unfurled from between its huge mandibles and explored the contours of Rob's boot.
“By the gods,” Paxx said, eyes wide.
“You summoned a demon?” Kortz said, shocked.
Their reaction was more severe than he expected. “Yeah, so? I found a ring earlier that let's me summon these things.”
“But you summon it from the Many Hells? Are you mad?” Kortz said.
“Uh, maybe,” Rob said, confused. “What does it matter where it comes from? It's a pet of sorts.”
“Pet! Ha!” Paxx said, shaking her head. “Look, I'm not a master of magic at all, just blacksmithing-.”
Kortz snorted beside her, and she punched in the shoulder.
She continued. “But I thought the more you used a certain type of magic, the more it effected you.”
“I don't understand,” Rob said, gently shooing the bug away from his boot.
“Obviously,” Kortz said, and Paxx punched him again.
Paxx said, “Well, summoning demons is a dark kind of magic, isn't it?”
“You're asking me?” Rob said. “Hey, I'm new here. You tell me.”
Kortz waved a hand. “This all doesn't matter right now. Paxx is right, though.”
“I am?” Paxx said, surprised.
“Yes. She isn't a master of magic. But she has a point. If you're using dark magic all the time, it will come at a cost.”
It does? Rob thought and eyed the Shale Mite with suspicion. He'd have to ask Saif about it, later. “Be that as it may, this thing can still help us get your anvil back.”
Kortz shrugged. “Just keep it away from us. That's all I ask.”
They continued on. Rob made a point of keeping the Shale Mite close to him. What they'd said was troubling, but he'd worry about it later.
“There's the stream,” Paxx said, pointing.
Ahead, a tiny stream cut across the path. But there was no sign of the bandits.
Rob motioned for the others to stop, keeping bows at the ready.
They scanned the vegetation around them. It was so dense there could be a hundred bandits here and they wouldn't be seen.
Not wanting to walk into an ambush, Rob was struck with an idea. He pointed at a section of underbrush next to the path ahead. “Attack.”
The Shale Mite flew up, but didn't move forward. Instead, it hovered as if waiting.
“Maybe you forgot to feed it,” Kortz said.
Confused, Rob pointed again and said, “Guard!”
The bug suddenly propelled forward. The trio watched as it flew through the trees and underbrush with ease. When it didn't attack anything, Rob commanded it to another section. Still nothing.
He brought it back to hover over his shoulder. “Looks clear,” Rob said.
“Okay,” Kortz said, a little impressed. “That's handy.”
Yeah, it was, Rob thought. The bug's list of uses was growing.
They approached the stream, ready for an attack, but none came.
“Maybe they left,” Kortz said.
“They're probably halfway to a blackmarket to sell the anvil. The bastards.”
Rob searched around in the bushes next to the path, then spotted something. Several sets of man-made boot prints.
The prints were close together, as if no effort was made to conceal their numbers. They moved off to the south, deeper into the forest.
The other two came over to look. “For bandits, they do a piss-water job at covering their tracks,” Kortz said. “Maybe their new at the job.”
“I think they're all bunched up like that because the have to carry the anvil. It would take several of them to even move it,” Paxx said.
Carefully, they followed the tracks through the underbrush, which wasn't difficult to do. It didn't take long before the sound of voices could be heard in the distance.
The trio paused to listen. The voices sounded angry, as if debating something.
Rob motioned them to move slowly, and they cautiously inched toward the voices which now had escalated into a full blown argument.
Moving to a position in the underbrush close by, the trio stopped. From the safety of the thick vegetation, they could see what was happening.
Several men stood in a small clearing between the trees. Rob counted seven in all, but he couldn't see the full area to be certain. Five of the men carried bows, with swords or axes slung. The other two were unarmed and yelling at e
ach other. At first, Rob thought the two men had slung their weapons in order to fight bare-fisted. But then he spotted a squat lump of metal on the ground between them. The anvil.