by Adam Drake
With the prisoners back under control, they were placed into two large wooden cages, barely big enough to hold them at the south end of the camp. The goblins then dispersed back to their duties with a handful staying close to the cages.
Rob was relieved the men hadn't all been executed, which told him the goblins had other intentions for them. Slaves? Sacrifices? In this messed up universe it could be both.
As he looked at the grim expressions of the men trapped inside the cages, an idea dawned on him. One which could be the answer to his dilemma. Instead of leaving to return another day, he decided to try something brazen.
He waited until night fall, all the while staying hidden in the bushes, watching the camp below. He took a more keener interest in the movements of the goblins, and their routines. What they showed gave him a little more confidence in his plan.
As it grew dark, and the moon came out, torches and bonfires were lit within the camp. Some of the torches were carried by goblins as they moved about. This made Rob curious. Why use torches at all? Then it hit him. They didn't have Light spells for some reason. Maybe the mages did, but not the soldiers. This could work to his advantage, too.
Just as the last remnants of sunlight faded, a patrol of goblins appeared from the treeline and crossed the clearing, all carrying torches. Might this mean there were no other patrols in the valley? He hoped it was true. Having all the goblins here in one place would be a boon.
He patiently waited as the moon slowly etched its way across the night sky. All the while, he watched the camp. When it was late enough, the majority of the goblins retired to various tents, leaving a night watch of about a dozen. These guards appeared more interested in huddling by bonfires and eating, than patrolling the camp.
Perfect.
Rob slowly stood and pulled back into the trees, keeping an eye on the camp. He carefully picked his way around the clearing and toward the rear of the camp's walls. The Shale Mite bumbled along beside him, occasionally stopping to still its proboscis in something vile.
Reaching the walls he paused to listen. He heard the occasionally guttural voice of a goblin, but no cries of alarm. Not familiar with all the magic in this universe, he feared some kind of detection spell could be active, one that would warn of an approaching foe. But nothing happened.
Torches studded the top of the wall, but were placed so irregular they left large gulfs of darkness between them.
Skirting the wall, Rob made his way along the back of the camp to the south end. He could see that the logs had been put together almost half-hazardly, leaving gaps between them at the base. Rob doubted it could stand against any kind of siege. Perhaps it only existed to put the goblins' minds at ease, to make them feel they were protected from attack.
They were going to be proven wrong.
Carefully, he practically tip-toed to the southern edge until he happened upon a large dark gap enough gap. Peeking through he could make out a wall of animal hide about two paces away. The back of a tent.
He waited and listened. All quiet.
The Shale Mite rested on a low hanging branch close by, as if waiting for him to make up his mind. Rob pointed at it and commanded it to stay. The bug fluttered its wings, as if irritated, but settled down onto the branch. Rob had considered dismissing it earlier, but thought it best to keep it close by in case he needed it.
He hitched his buckler to his back and slung the mace on his belt, then went down on his belly. Very slowly, he wiggled his way through the gap. It was narrow, and several times he had to pause and unhook a part of his gear from the logs, but he made it through.
Shielded by the tent he squatted low to the ground and looked around. More tents lined the wall to the north, while he was relieved to discover the cages were right next to him to the south. He could make out the somber expressions on the dirty faces of the men. Looks of defeat.
Inching to the edge of the tent, he peeked around it. He could see across the camp to the other wall, where more tents had been placed. Torches and brazers formed a patchwork of light, but, just like the ones on the wall, almost no care had been taken to have there light overlap.
Thank god for lazy goblins, Rob thought. As he waited for any signs of a wayward goblin he glanced at the cage nearest him and found several of the men staring at him in shock.
He offered them a little wave, and felt foolish with the gesture. Suddenly, a goblin appeared from around the other end of the tent. Rob ducked back, his heart hammering in his chest. He tensed, and held his mace high, ready to give the humanoid a good bashing. But when nothing happened, he listened and heard the sound of splashing water.
Risking discovery, but too curious not to check, Rob peeked an eye around the corner of the tent.
The goblin stood swaying as it pissed on the ground. It drunkenly managed this task with one hand, while drinking from a flask with the other.
Rob ducked back, waiting. A glance at the men showed none were looking in his direction now. Instead, they looked down at the ground or feigned sleep. Good, Rob thought. These guys weren't idiots.
After waiting patiently, Rob risked another glance and found the goblin was gone. Spending a few more moments to be sure it wouldn't return, he then darted across to the back of the cage. He was greeted by eager faces. One of which was an older man with a mowhawk haircut, of all things. While the others stared at Rob in wonder, the older man regarded with suspicion.
“Who are you?” Mowhawk whispered, his voice barely audible.
“A friend,” Rob said, trying to look the men over. Each one still had their hands tied behind their back. In the dim light the bindings appeared to be leather or cord.
“We have no friends,” Mowhawk said.
Rob didn't have time to decipher the comment. “You do tonight.” He leaned in closer. “Tell me, do you guys want to escape, or revenge for your fallen comrades?”
Mowhawk blinked at the question, then said, “Revenge.”
The man sounded resolute, the men nearest him nodding in agreement.
Rob nodded, too, then slung his mace and took out his dagger, motioning for the man to turn.
Mowhawk did, pressing his arms against the wooden bars.
Rob cut at his bounds. As he worked through the dense straps he whispered, “There's an armory at the north end of the camp, against the wall between two round tents.”
“Aye, I spotted it, too,” Mowhawk said.
The bounds snapped, and the man stretched his sore arms and massaged his numb wrists.
Rob said, “Send some of your men to the armory, while leaving the majority here.”
“Why?” Mowhawk said, the suspicion returning to his voice.
“If the cages look full, you won't raise any suspicions.”
Mowhawk blinked, registering the logic. “Good plan.”
Rob handed him the dagger through the bars and Mowhawk cut the bounds of another who in turn took the dagger and cut another man's bindings.
“How are the cage doors locked?”
“Mages spelled them,” Mowhawk said. “But won't matter. We can make our own way, back here.” He grabbed one of the wooden bars, which were really stripped branches and firmly shook it. To Rob's surprise the top popped loose.
Lazy goblins, Rob thought. Why bother making secure cages when the prisoners were bound?
Soon, all the men in the cage were cut free, and the dagger was passed over to the other. Rob was impressed to see the men nearest the front of the cage kept their arms behind their backs. These guys were definitely not bandits, he thought. Who the hell were they?
Freed, Mowhawk pulled himself out of the cage and Rob quickly told him his plan. The man listened intently and nodded. “Good plan,” he said. “Friend.”
With the men at the front of the cages acting as lookouts, they signaled it was clear. Rob darted back behind the tent with Mowhawk, a handful of men following.
They carefully moved down the length of the wall, keeping the tents between them and the br
ight middle of the camp. Only the occasional goblin was spotted, but these were drunk or sleeping at their post.
Within a few minutes they reached the northern end, hiding behind a circular tent. A short distance away, was the armory. It wasn't even a building, just a spot where weapons were piled on the ground or leaned against the wall. Unfortunately, it was placed for easy access, and was in an open area under a torch. But there weren't any guards.
Rob glanced at Mowhawk who grinned. In the dim light he looked like a comical version of a cartoon troll. He wouldn't win any beauty contests.
Since he was the only one properly armed for a potential encounter, Rob moved around the tent until he could see down the length of the camp. He spotted only one goblin standing outside the entrance to the larger middle tent. It leaned on a spear, eyes closed.
Rob turned and nodded back at Mowhawk.
Quickly, the men darted out of the shadows and entered the armory. They each carefully gathered a handful of weapons, never once making a sound. Not even the metal of the weapons clinked against each other.
The little group scooted back behind the tent, immediately replaced by another group who grabbed more. A relay of weapons was quietly run down the back of the camp to the cages, where the men there were arming themselves.
As to what would happen next was out of Rob's hand. This was Mowhawk's show now. He was just a pedestrian.
As the second group quickly worked, Rob was startled by the appearance of a goblin who emerged from the tent he hid beside. The humanoid glanced around suspiciously as if it he'd heard something.
Uh oh, Rob thought. The humanoid was too far for him to get to quickly, but stood at such an angle it didn't have a direct view of the armory.
Pulling back out of view, Rob waved back in alarm and the men froze in place. Just as they did, Rob saw one of the spears against the wall slide over and fall with a loud clacking sound.
Rob saw the goblin's shadow turn. Then it moved.
Bracing himself, Rob knew he only had one attack which had a chance of taking out the goblin in one go.
As the goblin stepped around the tent, Rob was already moving.
He charged at the humanoid, startling it. As it gasped in surprise, Rob used his entire momentum to smash it with a Shield Bash. The goblin flew back and hit the ground. Rob didn't slow as he loomed over it and crashed his mace into its skull, killing it.
A quick glance told him no one saw, so he grabbed it by a skinny arm and dragged it back into the shadows.
The men resumed their weapons pillage.
But there luck wouldn't lasted forever.
A group of four goblins appeared from between some tents directly opposite where Rob was crouching over the dead goblin. Both he and the goblins were equally surprised to see each other. Then they spotted the men in the armory.
Rob moved. But the distance between them was too great. All four began shouting and screaming at the top of their lungs.
Here we go, Rob thought as he jumped into the group, sending one sprawling with a Shield Bash.
The goblins drew their weapons and engaged, all the while shouting.
Rob parried the sword away from one goblin, while blocking the attacks from the others.
As he fought he heard fighting break out all around the camp. The men, now armed, were storming tents and slaughtering goblins as they stirred from their sleep. Many goblins still woke in time to fight back.
But despite being heavily outnumbered, the men had the advantage of surprise. Plus, many of the goblins had put their weapons in the armory before going to sleep, dooming themselves to be easily slaughtered.
Rob killed one of the goblins and was working on the other two when two men jumped into the fray, hacking the goblins down from behind. They nodded at Rob, faces splattered with goblin blood, then ran off to another fight.
Looking around for a goblin to kill Rob spotted the warlord stumbling out of his tent, snapping on his breastplate. He was in such a hurry, he forgot his leg armor, exposing green knobby legs. An underling handed him a sword and he vanished around the other side with a contingent of mean looking goblins.
Sensing an opportunity, Rob ran to the center tent. All around him men and goblins fought and died. He witnessed several men fall beneath a jabbering group of angry goblins. But he ignored it all. His part here was done.
Mace at the ready he entered the warlord's tent. It was lavishly decorated, with a huge rug on the floor and skulls of the conquered hanging from overhead beams. He quickly looked around. The furnishings were sparse, just a cot and desk.
He spotted a scroll case on the desk and snatched it up. With no time to spare he put it in a pouch. Searching the desk came up with nothing else of value.
He searched the bed, still warm from the warlord's slumber. Under the pillow was an ornate dagger, probably placed there to defend against a late night assassin. It's long blade was curved and serrated like shark's teeth.
You have taken an item: Ornate Dagger of Piercing
Durability: 25/25
Damage: 3-8
+30% chance of piercing any armor
Value: 7 Gold Pieces
Sweet, he thought and slide it in his belt.
Outside the fighting continued, punctuated by the savage screams of the dying.
Under the bed, he found a small trunk. He opened it and spilled its contents on the bed. He grabbed anything small enough to fit in his pouch.
You have taken an item: Figurine of the Dead
Uses: 5/5
Touching this figurine to a dead body will raise it as an Undead Corpse, which can be commanded by the user. (Hit Points: 50 / Armor: 2)
Value: 25 Gold Pieces
Rob whistled at that one.
You have taken an item: Potion of Truth
Whoever consumes this potion will be compelled to tell the truth. Cannot be countered by any magical means. Duration: 30 minutes
Value: 40 Gold Pieces
You have taken an item: Medallion of Swiftness
+15% increase to running speed
Value: 25 Gold Pieces
You have taken an item: Large Shard of Life Magic
Value: 5 Gold Pieces
You have taken an item: Silk Scarf of Alluring Beauty
Durability: 10/10
+25% chance of success for all charm spells
Value: 25 Gold Pieces
As he dumped each item into his pouch, his smile got wider. Wow! All of this stuff was cool. But the real reward was a bag of coins buried beneath some smelly underwear.
You have taken and item: Money Bag
725 Gold Pieces, 1842 Silver Pieces, 10733 Copper Pieces.
Rob laughed as he stuffed the Money Bag into a pouch. He looked around for more loot, but couldn't find any.
A sudden noise made him turn and he saw a brazer knocked over just outside the entrance. As the shadowy combatants moved on, locked in a fight to the death, the brazer's fire touched the tent. In an instant the flames raced up the dry animal hides.
Covering his face, Rob raced outside, dodging the flames as they zipped across the beams overhead.
The fighting was still going on, but had subsided. Many corpses lay on the ground, weapons clutched in their dead hands, faces contorted in agony. Blood formed small streams between the tents.
Fires had broken out all over the camp, with every tent or structure aflame. Their light made the shadows of the fighters look as if born from a nightmare.
Without further ado, Rob raced toward the gate, just as a sole goblin was pushing it open. It was injured and held an bloody arm close to its chest. As it sagged against the door, it swung open enough for Rob to pass through.
“Thank you,” Rob said and smashed the goblin's head in. He hustled across the clearing as quickly as he could manage, the fires of the encampment lighting his way with a frenetic orange glow.
Panting heavily, he climbed up to the tree line, and stopped to look back.
The encampment was
torched, with many of the tents already burned to the ground. From what he could see almost no one was left alive, with both groups having practically wiped each other out.
Only four men remained, standing in a circle near the burning center tent. Between them was a single goblin, the last. Rob could see it was the warlord, pantless, but still wearing his chest platemail.
Seeing it couldn't win, the warlord dropped his sword and pulled off his platemail. He stood naked before the men and shook his hands before him, begging for his life.
One of the men stepped forward, and Rob could see it was Mowhawk. The man said something to the goblin and walked around behind him. Then he stabbed the goblin straight through the back with a sword.