LITTLE THINGS - Chapter 8

Dren settled down on the top of a hill and shook out her wings. There were only a few miles to go, but she just needed a rest. Lisiin was big.

And it could be surprisingly easy to get lost out here. All the trees looked the same to her from above, and they were dense enough in places that she lost sight of the paths underneath.

Dren held a hand over her eye ridge and looked to the east. Oakwood’s ancestor tree was just barely visible from here, and of course the Wall…

Well, the Wall was a sight to see. It stretched north to south all the way from the Sideways Sea to the Parthun mountain range. From her current vantage point, it effectively walled off an entire section of horizon.

Truly, the Grand Alliance Wall of Lisiin was a wonder of the world. A feat of great engineering and magic. And there had to be magic, because how else could you build such a thing in only fifty years? While also fending off beasts and monsters?

Dren hoped there was still some maj clinging to the Wall. It would be fascinating to study, and might make the trip worth it.

She wasn’t supposed to be a messenger girl, but she got roped into it because she could fly and would get there fastest. Dren was supposed to be studying magic!

“Sigh,” she said out loud, leaning back on her tail. She rummaged through her bag and pulled out two letters. One was from Colonel Pelstaf, addressed to Elder Thorndyke of Oakwood. The Colonel had put the letter in her hand himself, looking furious, but it was actually the second letter that made her accept the job.

Dren was not within the Royal Army’s command structure. She was an apprentice under a wizard who just happened to occasionally train battle mages for the army. Dren herself delivered mail as a side-job for extra money; wings made for a sought-after courier.

She could have refused, and there wasn’t really anything he could do to make her. It would've made life in Celsus annoying, but not unbearable. But she had a reason to be in Oakwood beyond messenger duty, so here she was.

Dren stretched her wings and took off once more. The faster she made her delivery, the faster she could rest and then, maybe, see if her pen pals were still in town.

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Grek ran directly behind the Chief as they ran for the big wall. It would be so easy to put that lousy brat in his place… but the fighters behind him liked Grimbly. Grek wouldn’t last long afterwards if he didn’t do it right.

Not warriors, fighters. Goblins didn’t have warriors, because a warrior had honor. Goblins didn’t. They couldn’t afford to be honorable when everyone wanted them dead.

Once upon a time, Grek was the chief. He was a pretty good one, and all the other gobs from his generation knew it. He knew that attacking humans and elves and dwarfs was a losing game, so he steered clear. Under his leadership, the tribe lived lean but safe lives. He was sneaky enough for everyone to live on the very fringes of society and steal only what they needed. They still got run off every now and then, but more of them got away by running than if they’d tried to fight back.

Then his daughter went out to find a husband, and came back with Grimbly. To live as a goblin, you’ve either got to be clever or strong, and unfortunately Grimbly was stronger than Grek was clever. He beat Grek into the ground and let him live just to spit in his face.

Other fresh blood came to the tribe. His generation had more daughters than sons, so the girls brought back husbands who still thought fighting the bigfolk was a good idea, and with Grimbly in charge Grek couldn’t convince them otherwise. They called Grek a coward. He was, but they said it like it was a bad thing.

The young gobs’ parents had started dying off, and now the young ones outnumbered the old. It was only a matter of time before Grimbly got bold and went and did something stupid… but Grek thought he had more time than this.

That’s why he needed the arrow and stole the knife. A goblin had to be strong or sneaky. It didn’t matter how you beat the old chief, just that you beat him.

Grimbly’s back was to him, and Grek’s fingers itched.

Maybe this would be a good opportunity. The young fool needed to die, and here they were going into battle. He’d get him killed and show these idiot brats that the coward was the one who survived.

…Grek grimaced to himself. Assuming we don’t all get killed here.

One of the fools behind Grek started chanting. No words, just rough, throaty sounds like a dying animal. Grek made a pained expression as the others took it up, and soon everyone but him were doing an awful war chant, like tiny malnourished orcs.

Maybe he should just cut and run and let them get slaughtered… No, Grek shook his head, chastising himself for the thought. It wasn’t their fault they were stupid.

The treeline came before the wall did, and once they exited the woods the fighter spread out, looking for trouble.

Grek hung back at first. He was going to climb a tree and start figuring out his new bow; he was no fighter himself, so staying at range would be his best option. Unfortunately, the chief was stupid and dragged him by the arm.

“You’s staying where I can see you, old man,” Grimbly barked.

Grek sneered at him. “You don’t want me at your back, do you? I’m no good in a fight after all.”

“I know.” The bigger gob grinned. “I forgot to bring my shield, that’s all.”

Ah. Ah-ha. Grimbly was trying to be clever, finally kill the old chief like he should have ages ago and get rid of his main rival. Or maybe he was just a spiteful idiot who hated him.

Either way, Grek needed to brace himself. His ears itched, and that was always a sign of bad things.

He had the knife and he had the bow. He just needed to be clever about it. Get Grimbly killed, and try to save as many of his tribe as he could.

Grek looked up at the wall towering over them. He hoped the day didn’t end with him backed up against it.

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Llew was running as fast as the wind.

To be more accurate, he was jumping from tree-to-tree like a squirrel. After raising and working with the animals for over a century he’d picked up a few tricks, and frankly there weren’t many faster ways to travel. A horse couldn’t move at a full gallop in these woods.

There was a knack to it. It mostly involved moving fast enough the branches didn’t have time to bend or break, not looking down, and not thinking too hard about it. It was probably magic, but he didn’t care much for the details even when his daughter wasn’t potentially in danger.

Llew smelled smoke, and so he leapt from a sturdy oak to the top of a much smaller tree just barely out of saplinghood. He allowed it to bend under his weight and carry him down to the ground.

“Afternoon, Captain,” he said with forced cheer as he touched down next to Gerald and the mayor.

Thorndyke jumped nearly a foot in the air, and the handful of soldiers accompanying them were no better, taking far too long to react.

Gerald at least responded with grace, only looking mildly surprised as he turned to him. “Hey, Llew. What brings you out here?”

“Just my daily constitutional,” the hunter said. He looked over the team with a critical eye. They were only just now realizing who he was and sheepishly lowering their weapons. “Goodness, Gerry, did you pull this lot off the Heart’s Wood floor?” he asked, looking at one dwarf in particular that couldn’t seem to make his eyes blink at the same time.

“If I’d gotten to them any later, I might have,” the captain admitted. “It was short notice after all.” It went without saying that the tavern was the only place where you could be absolutely certain to find men in armor, no matter the hour. “But it’s only goblins. It’ll be fine.”

“Yes yes, the soldiers are drunken wretches,” Thorndyke cut in impatiently. “This is already long established. Let’s stop wasting time.”

Llew frowned as the mayor walked off on his own, puffing on a pipe. “Gerry, does Sjin look a little… red? Is he feeling okay?”

“I can’t honestly say I care.” At his friend’s look, Gerald held up his hands defensively. “Look, you haven’t been dealing with him as much as I have, the man is exhausting. I just want to kill these monsters so we can all calm down and I can go back to patrolling the Wall away from him.”

The hunter frowned as the squad started moving again. In the end though he nodded reluctantly. “I… can’t blame you. The mayor has been on edge for a while now.”

Gerald rolled his eyes. “Is that an elvish while or a human while? I just want to know if you mean days, weeks, months, or years.”

“A while,” Llew said noncommittally. Truthfully he couldn’t remember the last time the mayor had been relaxed. “It must have gotten worse recently if he’s smoking again. Even when he smoked regularly he always complained about hating it.”

Gerry grunted. “All I know is that that man has me running into the woods chasing rookies’ first battles and I can’t tell him where to stick until my letter to the Colonel gets back. This is a waste of my time, and of my men’s skills.”

The slow blinker tripped over a root, going down and taking his nearest comrade down with him in a raucous clatter of metal. 

Gerald cringed. “Of course, we’re all running ragged at this point.”

“Of course.”

“Will you be silent?!” Thorndyke called from the front. “You’ll wake up the entire forest with that noise! And quit dragging your feet!”

“I’d like to drag you by your feet, you pompous…” Gerald muttered. Llew stiffened and Gerald noticed immediately. “What is it?”

Llew sniffed. “Rotten meat and mold. They’re nearby.”

“Well I’ll be darned. He wasn’t full of hot air after all.”

Thorndyke came to a stop as the trees started thinning, smoke curling from his lips. “What in the--”

Llew stepped up beside him. The Wall loomed ahead of them, and milling about in front of it were a dozen or so armed goblins. “Twice our number. Shouldn’t be difficult.”

Gerry joined them on Thorndyke’s other side. “Is that a hobgoblin? The big one, with the skull helmet?”

Llew squinted. “...Could be? If it’s not, then it’s right on the cusp of it.”

“They’re really here…” the mayor muttered. He nearly stumbled when Gerry clapped him on the back, a little harder than was necessary.

“Good job, I guess, sir. We’ll take it from here.” He raised three fingers and spread them apart, and the other four men fanned out as quietly as their armor would allow, each taking a half-hidden spot and getting ready to charge. “You ready, Llew?”

The hunter squinted. Something was wrong. “There’s something about that smaller goblin…”

“The runt by the hobbler?” Gerry scoffed. “Probably a scout that wants to be a fighter. Stupid creatures. Wonder who it stole that archery set from?”

Llew’s eyes widened, and he was already a dozen feet into the clearing before he fully processed the truth.

That was his daughter’s bow.

He ignored Gerry’s shouts behind him, Thorndyke’s surprised shout, or the other goblins jumping in shock. Llew was barely able to hear them.

The little monster noticed him and actually tried to run before he got there, which Llew might have been impressed by if he wasn’t absolutely furious. He caught the runt by the neck and lifted him into the air.

“Where is she?!”

The goblin’s eyes were fearful. “Wh-wh-wh--”

“What did you do to her?!”

Something clicked behind the creature’s eyes, and it had the gall to look apologetic. “Sorry.”

“Sorry?”

Whatever horrible fate Llewellyn intended to enact upon the thief was lost when he was abruptly reminded of the rest of the world by a heavy club smashing into his stomach, courtesy of the hobgoblin.

The blow lifted him off his feet and he rolled away, ending up upright again in short order. He readied his bow and aimed right between the hobgoblin’s eyes, only to curse when the creature lowered its head and let the arrow plink off its skull helmet.

The soldiers charged from their places in the tree, Gerry leading them. Llew stepped out of the hobgoblin’s swinging range. The oaf was slow enough for him to easily keep ahead of him, so he took the opportunity to observe the situation.

He cursed. “Gerald! Behind!”

The soldiers had tried to surround the goblins from the treeline before charging in. Now it looked like the gobs had the same idea, because behind them another dozen spear-and-club-wielding goblins emerged from the forest, green skin and brown rags letting them hide effectively.

The captain cut down one fighter and then had to whirl to catch a sharpened bone with his shield, only to take a blow to the knee from a different foe.

Llew killed one of Gerry’s opponents with a quick arrow, letting the man regain the upper hand.

The hobgoblin growled in frustration, and Llew’s eyes widened when it pulled something from a pouch on its waist and threw it at him. It was a red powder that instantly set his sinuses on fire, and suddenly he could barely see past the watering of his eyes.

Where did they get quetzalin chili powder? Wherever it came from, it burned like nothing else, and now the goblin was on more even footing.

His bow got knocked out of his hand, and the hobgoblin laughed harshly. Llew focused on the sound and lashed out, and the laugh turned into a squawk--a nasally one. It sounded like he managed to break its nose.

A soldier behind him screamed, breaking off into choked gurgling. Goblins cackled, and then yelled in shock when Llew heard the tell-tale fizzing sound of one of Rosie’s failsafes going off. The soldier, healed and most likely fully sober now, went on the offensive and his sword sang as it severed goblin head from neck.

He heard Gerry bang his shield against another’s head, and metal rang like the same was done to him, but thankfully Gerry was tougher than that. He only grunted and retaliated.

The hobgoblin reset his nose with a painful crack and attacked again, that Llew only barely managed to turn into a glancing blow. The club’s inset animal teeth cut into his arm, and Llew prayed that it wasn’t smart enough to use poison.

“Wha--?!” The hobgoblin shouted in surprise, and after a second Llew found out why.

A large weight landed on the elf’s shoulder, and abruptly he could see again. The point of view was a few inches further to the right than he was used to, but he figured out how to compensate for that decades ago.

The goblin ran forward to strike, and Llew kicked him in the stomach, knocking him to the ground.

He turned his head and saw himself looking down. “Jaunt, just in time as always.”

The squirrel carrying his vision squeaked. Without needing to be told, Jaunt looked around the clearing. Things were approaching a stalemate, where the remaining goblins had surrounded each soldier three-to-one. No one could step forward without a soldier killing them, but then the swordsman would be vulnerable to one of the other two goblins. Gerry in particular had four of them with his back against the Wall.

“Jaunt, where’s Amelia?”

The squirrel turned his head towards the treeline, right where it ran up against the wall. “She’s right over--wait, huh?”

Llew blinked uselessly, mimicked by his partner, as the hobgoblin that was trying to get its breath back suddenly choked, a glint of silver sticking out the front of its throat.

Every eye, man dwarf elf and goblin, turned as the goblin leader gurgled on its own blood before falling forward on its stomach. The runt holding the knife grimaced, wiping the blood off onto its tunic.

Llew barely noticed this, because all he could focus on the girl the goblin was holding on to.

“Everybody drop their weapons.”

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Amy and Jaunt reached the wall and turned left.

Unfortunately she still hadn’t figured out what she was going to do. The plan she was working on right now was that she’d steal back her bow (quiver optional) while Captain Gerald and his men had the goblins distracted and then… well, it was a work in progress. Frankly her primary concern at this point was to go back home and pretend nothing had gone wrong and everything was normal, but she couldn’t go home without her bow. 

The woods gave way and Amy skidded to a stop, Jaunt settling onto a branch over her head.

They were already fighting, and Amy barely stopped herself from shouting when she saw her father. “Jaunt! What’s he doing here?!”

“Chr?”

They watched, alarmed, as her father grabbed Grek by the neck, and then got hit by the chief. Everything went chaotic, and after her father yelled Jaunt took off into the clearing before Amy had even fully processed it. “Wh--wait!”

“Again, with this?”

Grek was suddenly there, rubbing his bruised throat and giving her a look of pure disappointment.

“You stole my bow!” Amy said before she could stop herself.

“And your knife, yes,” Grek said without shame. “It’s a nice bow. Be wasteful to leave it behind. Be stupid to leave it with you, who is hunting us.”

He flinched and grimaced as a goblin yelled a war cry that got cut off. Amy looked, and turned green to see it wasn’t the only thing that got cut off. 

“Oh…” The fight was slowing down, but there were a lot of dead goblins. The soldiers were looking beaten and bloody too. “I don’t get it. The book said goblins were weak.”

Grek scoffed. “Gobs what live long enough get there by being hard to kill. For me, that mean running. For Grimbly, that mean fighting.”

“I was hoping that we didn’t have to…” Amy trailed off, and Grek gave her a look.

“You want to not kill us?”

Amy’s face went on a complicated journey. “I mean… you talk and make medicine and have parents and children and…”

Grek stared at her intensely, then looked over at the stalemate that was happening. “...I has a plan that might get you back to papa and my kin back alive.”

“...What is it?”

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“Everybody drop their weapons.”

Amy stared in shock at the chief’s body, an expression mimicked to a lesser extent by her father. She flinched as Grek pulled her, not too gently, to her knees so he could hold the still-bloody knife to her throat.

“We don’t need to fight,” the goblin said, slowly enunciating the words. “You want the girl, I want to not die. Let us compromise.”

Dad stared at him incredulously. Then his eyes hardened. “...Let her go. Now.”

“Drop the weapon,” Grek said again.

Her father stared at him, then at her. His expression cracked, and the bow fell to the ground.

Grek shoved her forward and she fell into her dad’s arms as he rubbed her back.

“Are you alright, daughter mine?” he asked softly.

Amy nodded against his shoulder. She didn’t trust herself to speak. She was so tired all of a sudden.

“Good. Good.” She felt him relax just a bit, then he straightened and looked at the goblin. “Give me that bow, too.”

Grek growled and threw it on the ground in front of them. Amy pushed away from him to pick it up and immediately started inspecting it for damage.

“You will let us go?” Grek asked.

Amy and Llew looked around. The soldiers were confused and tense, but weren’t attacking. The goblins looked distinctly unhappy, but they had lowered their weapons and weren’t making any move to argue.

“Gerry?” Llew prompted.

The captain scowled. “Well--”

“What in the world is happening now?”

Mayor Thorndyke stormed out of the woods and Amy shuddered. He looked furious, red in the face and fuming, a look only exacerbated by the smoke coiling out of his pipe.

“Sjin--” Llew began.

“Don’t Sjin me, Llewellyn, you lost the right to call me by my name when you married that, that human! That was bad enough, but now you have the audacity to try and reason with that thing?”

Grek growled. Llew almost did as well while his squirrel chittered angrily. “Mayor Thorndyke, all of us are moving on hardly any sleep and are already injured. If we keep fighting there’s no guarantee we’ll all survive. If they’re willing to call it a tie--”

“It’s a goblin! Kill it!” Thorndyke pulled at his hair. “Are you children? Or are these midget orcs in disguise? Kill them!”

Grek was starting to look nervous, Amy noticed, as the other goblins started eyeing the soldiers. It was obvious something was about to give. Her father made eye contact with Captain Gerald, who groaned.

“Mayor, goblins never stick around after getting caught,” Gerry pointed out. “We’ve given them a thumping, if we let them go they’ll never darken your woods again.”

Thorndyke stalked over to where Gerry was standing by the Wall, taking his pipe and pointing it in Gerry’s face. “Is it not your job to kill monsters? Are you refusing to do your job?”

“I’m not happy about it either,” Gerry snapped. “But I’m tired and I just want this to stop.”

“Oh, you’re tired,” Thorndyke hissed. “Heavens forbid our men in silver be tired.” He blew a smoke ring in the captain’s face, who only barely held himself back from striking him. “And why the hell is that halfbreed here?! Can’t you keep track of your spawn, Llewellyn?”

Llew grit his teeth, but Amy tugged on his arm before he could respond. 

“Dad?” Amy asked. “Where’s all that smoke coming from?”

Llew looked at her strangely. Gerry looked at the mayor. The mayor looked at his pipe, which had burned itself out.

Smoke was pouring from his mouth.