The bright rays of the morning sun peaked in through the curtains of Mark’s room. He raised his arm to cover his eyes in the crook of his elbow, blocking out the sun. A brief moment of calm passed by allowing him to almost slip back into slumber.

Panic gripped Mark’s chest. “The cattle!” he thought as he threw the blanket off of himself before quickly getting on his feet.

Disorientation hit Mark as nothing was in the right place. His dresser, the nightstand, the alarm clock, all missing. He quickly looked under his bed for his boots.

There, on hands and knees, face pressed against the wooden floor, the events of the past day came back to Mark. Car crash, a deal, new people, new job, chores, food, sleep. The list of yesterday was surprisingly short. With a groan, he got up off his knees and made his way into the common room.

Sitting at one of the tables was Paul, Tim, and Francis. The sounds of Greta humming to herself as she kneaded bread dough emanated from the kitchen.

Tim was the one facing Mark’s direction so they called out. “Look who’s finally awake.”

Mark sheepishly scratched the back of his head. “Yeah, sorry about that, I’m usually an early riser.”

“Just messing with ya.” Tim smiled. “You looked like you could use the rest after last night. Come join us. Greta says she’ll have some bread for us in a bit.”

Mark took a seat and the other two looked excited about something. “What’s got you two so full of energy?”

Tim butted in before they could reply. “They wouldn’t tell me, kept being all smug about it. Said they’d wait until you showed your face.”

“Just wanted to deepen the suspense.” Francis grinned. “But now that he’s here! Show em Paul!”

“Ladies and gentlemen.” Paul ran his hands up and down his arms. “Nothing up my sleeves as you can see.” The Sleeveless tunic was indeed without sleeves.

“I can make sparks pop out of my fingers. [Prestidigitation].” Paul popped open his hand and the white rune ring made its trip down his arm to the tips of his fingers where the sparks did pop out of his fingers.

Mark and Tim stared at the sparks, dumbfounded. The white bits of light popping off in little arcs to disappear a moment later.

Tim broke fascination first to say. “Yer a wiz...”

“Already did that one.” Francis cut in.

“Steal all my fun why don’t ya.” Tim grumbled.

The sparks stopped and Paul quickly shook out his hand. “Stings a bit, but it isn’t too bad.”

“Well don’t make the sparks then.” Mark advised.

Paul had to think it through for a moment. “No, it’s not just the sparks. It’s the whole magic deal. When the magic travels through me, that’s what stings. You saw that ring right?”

“Ah, yes, right.” Mark nodded. “Good on you for figuring that out then. Any changes to the plan for today?”

The others all shook their heads and a silence fell over the group.

Paul was the first one to speak up. “I think I’d kill for a coffee.”

Francis and Mark both perked up.

“Think they’d have some here?” Francis craned his neck towards the kitchen and Greta.

Tim asked for clarification. “Here in town, or here in general?”

“I’ll ask.” Paul stood up from the table and walked to the kitchen.

“Hey Greta?” Paul leaned against the doorway. “Would you happen to have coffee on hand?”

“’Fraid not.” Greta was portioning out dough into loaves. “Too expensive for me pantry. That and what comes through ends up wit’ the mayor.”

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

Catching himself, Paul straightened up. “Tis a pity my lady. Thank you all the same.”

“’old on a mo.” Greta stepped to the oven and pulled out a half dozen loaves of bread. “Take these with me thanks. Them goblins won’ know what hit them.”

Greta juggled three loaves onto a cloth that she tied up into a bundle. She passed the steaming package to Paul who took them with a smile.

“With this bounty in hand, you have naught to fear.” Paul returned with the bread to the group.

“Good news bad news.” Paul rested the bundle on the table. “Coffee exists, just not here.”

“A damn shame.” Francis lamented.

“Well pitter patter lets get at er.” Mark stood up. “Days a wastin’ and we don’t know how far we have to go.”

Tim stood without issue, but Francis complained. “What about breakfast?”

Tim chided Francis by saying. “Eat on your feet. We’ll get walking”

With that, the four of them left the Cup and Crow.

-------------

The trip through town was uneventful. They reached the western gate and the road to the forest stretched before them. Farm land ringed the whole town as far as they could tell.

Paul took a deep breathe. “The first step of adventure!”

Mark started walking. “I hope you can keep that enthusiasm all the way through.”

Tim took up a measured pace. “Wouldn’t worry about it guys. Steady pace and conserve your energy.”

“Steady pace he says.” Francis kept up with the others. “I’m taking two steps for each one of yours.”

Tim looked over and down at Francis. “Just let your body get loose. Alternate the left foot forward with the right arm forward, then switch. Keeps you balanced. You’ll set our pace, don’t worry.”

With a final grumble from Francis, the group set off.

The miles of the road disappeared under their feet as they continued to walk. Farm field turned to grass, turned to bush, turned to trees, and finally the thick trunks and limbs of trees obscured their vision of the sky.

“I know Julia said ‘to the west’, but how were we supposed to find those goblins?” Paul asked the others. “Not exactly any ‘quest markers’ or neon signs saying ‘goblins this way’.”

“I’ve had to deal with a few pests in my time.” Mark took a look around. “She’d said that they were harassing farmers, so I suspect that they’ve got paths straight towards the farms. I think we’re probably a bit past where they’d come out of the forest.”

“Then it’s time to search for a few proper branches to work with.” Tim clapped their hands together with a click. “Looks like we’ve got a bunch of softwood trees here. So thing’s will be a little lighter than you’d probably like. We’ve not got much in the way of cutting tools either, so the best bet is to find something on the ground. Hopefully freshly fallen so it’ll still be heavy and green. Otherwise find something that feels good in the hand.”

Mark and Paul nodded however Francis raised his hand. “I’m kinda looking for something pokey. That ‘feels’ like the right kind of thing for me.”

“Since we can’t sharpen anything.” Tim started. “I can only suggest grabbing a handful or two of sticks about the thickness of your thumb. They probably won’t last more than a single... use. Gahd this feels weird don’t it?”

“I know what you mean.” Paul rubbed the fur on the back of his neck. “Never thought I’d be hunting goblins in real life. Video games sure, staple enemy even, but this feels different.”

“They’re vermin in the end.” Mark pointed at Tim and Paul. “They’re hurting the people who grow the food for the town. “Get over it because we have a job to do.”

Mark strode into the forest. Francis scurried after. Tim and Paul shared a look and Paul gave a resigned sigh.

“Stick together Paul.” Tim stepped after Mark and Francis. “He makes a good point.”

“Right, I’ll keep my head on straight.” Paul moved to join the others.

The four of them hunted through the forest for good sticks and branches. The trees looked healthy in general so there weren’t as many large branches littering the forest floor. It took them a while but in the end they were successful. Mark had found the one large branch that he hefted onto his shoulder. Paul and Tim both came away with arm length logs that fit their hands. Francis, true to his desire, had a veritable arm load of relatively pointed sticks.

With ‘weapons’ in hand, they had switched tasks to finding the goblins. Trudging through the forest had yet to reveal any special game paths or obvious goblin trails. The sun through the trees had noticeably shifted.

“Ugh, I’m tired.” Francis complained. “We’ve been walking all morning, hunting for sticks, HUNTING for goblins, and not much to show for it.”

Mark wiped some sweat off his brow. “I know this is frustrating.” He gave a low hum and rubbed his chin. “But a break for lunch might not be bad.”

“Finally!” Francis dropped his sticks with a clatter. “Break out the bread!”

Paul laid down his branch and undid the cloth bundle of bread. He handed out a loaf each to Mark and Francis before staring apologetically at Tim who waved him off. Tim got out his piece of coal and crunched into it quite happily.

The four munched on their respective meals. The fresh bread had formed a thick crust and was still soft on the inside. Mark was eating his whole, while Paul and Francis were picking out the soft inside first.

“Ya know, this is actually very nice bread.” Francis said between bites. “Pity about the smell though.”

“Smell?” Paul looked over. “I can’t say I smell anything in particular.” Giving a few sniffs.

“You don’t smell that?” Francis raised an eyebrow. “Smells like sweat, musk, and it’s particularly rank. Like people have been...”

Francis lowered his hollow loaf of bread and picked up one of his favourite sticks. He motioned with his free hand to keep quiet and stalked off in the direction of the scent. A quiet minute passed as he left the group in a tense silence.

Francis returned quietly, put his finger to his lips in a shushing sign and picked up his sticks. The others all hefted their logs and branches. Francis then led the group through the trees and brush and motioned to get low before a particularly leafy bush. He crawled through the bush and the others joined him.

There, in a clearing, were a gaggle of goblins lounging around a massive steaming pot.