“During the long wait for Destiny to reach its destination, back in the Sol system, great strides were made in the Orphan program.

These orphans of the war would become the vanguard of any battle, their main objective to clear a beachhead so the planetary assault troops could establish a fortified position on the target planet.

With the blessing of the emperor, Marcos Obregon was given the overall command over the Orphan program. During those early days, the doctrine that would guide a central part of humanity's liberation forces was written—The Vanguard Protocols.

The orphans would receive extensive training and education from an early age. The orphans were not only expected to understand war, but literature, art, and philosophy were also put in high emphasis.

The final step of an orphan is a medical procedure that would turn the frail human body into a warrior unparalleled. Those who survived the extensive medical procedures were given a personal armor of technological wonder and fitted with the most advanced weapons systems we could create.

The unstoppable fist of humanity's vengeance and its most feared tool of liberation was born in those early days, the imperial legionary, but at great cost. However, as history will tell us, this was but a strand on the tapestry of fate leading us down the road of conflict.”

- Elistar Iscariot, Grand Magister during the second Kingfisher dynasty.

I have to say, It took her longer than expected to realize she wasn't gagged. Considering I had cut the filthy cloth strap wrapped around her head just where it protruded a bit when going over her right ear, it might not be that strange, come to think of it. I may have taken a bit of hair, too, but what can you do? I was giving maximum effort when it came to her well-being.

Deciding to look through my newly acquired goodies, I made sure I chose the best seat in the house, which would be a tree root closer to the other end of the girl. If I were lucky she would come to the natural conclusions without any help from yours truly.

Damn, goblins had just thrown everything together. I started by removing the larger pieces. From what I could gather, I was now the proud owner of a chainmail that was too large for me and one that was too small. A too-large breastplate, heavily dented, looked like it belonged as a set to the larger chainmail. A leather jerkin with fitting apparel. Some sort of riveted leather armor with matching boots, but sadly, it is too small for me. Four cloaks, a nice blue and green one and two gray ones that were being used as sacks. I could do without those.

Turing my gaze up when the lady tried speaking with what was no doubt a dried-out mouth, I decided to give her a minute more to work up some saliva. I'm not sure what she had been trying to say, but it sounded like it belonged in a desert.

Just as I started to reach for the smaller items in the bottom of the makeshift sack, I heard a thin voice say, “Cut me free, you ass…I'm not laying here like a log waiting to get snatched up by the filthy little buggers again, damn you.”

Someone was full of demands today, and by her less-than-polite demands, I doubt she was of high standing, at best, a villager or some similar filth. Did she think her life held any value to me? If she started demanding her stuff back, I'd just leave, I thought before grabbing my waterskin and walking back to her front end. I was already positive I preferred the other end.

Parched lips turned to a smile as she saw me carrying the waterskin while demurely lowering her chin and opening her lips. Did she really think I planned on bending down to let her sip from my waterskin? While certainly not at my best, did she think I looked like a commoner?

I have to say her outraged scream almost made me chuckle as the ice-cold stream of water hit her face.

The girl quickly caught on, however, and was soon swallowing mouthfuls.

When I stopped pouring water on her a minute or so later, she looked back at me with eyes containing the same cunning and anger as when I first saw them. Before she could say anything more, I simply offered a friendly. “You're filthy.” Before proceeding to drench the rest of her in water.

Her screams of outrage and curses soon turned to pleas of mercy as the water just kept drenching her in a nonstop deluge of pleasantly chilled water. It couldn't have been enjoyable laying on the now-soaked leaves, a stick against her back and considering how cold it was getting and how little she had on, I could understand her frustration. It looked rather uncomfortable.

With a light shiver in sympathy, I turned back to the loot pile, rummaging through my spoils.

The armor was taken care of, and I let the smaller stuff be before diving into the next sack. By its outline, it contained weapons. I have begun to like weapons. They made goblin killing easier. I liked killing goblins, and I liked things being easy. How could anyone dislike that?

Starting by pulling out a one-handed battle ax, its long beard was probably good for pulling at enemies' shields or extremities. It felt nice in my grip if a bit light in the heft. It was the same issue I was starting to notice with my sword. I thought about giving the ax a few swipes in the air before throwing it on the armor pile.

Next, I pulled out a nice steel mace. It looked to be molded from one piece. The flanges should give any strikes a good oomph when hitting something in the face. Sadly, it was even lighter than the ax, but I would just have to adjust. Throwing it beside the ax, I was about to pull out what looked like a short sword when I was interrupted again.

“Bastard.” I could hear the control she forced on herself not to shiver while saying that.

“I'm not. My parentage is very well documented and within wedlock.”

I looked at her bare legs for a moment before throwing the shortsword on the pile. Yeah, goosebumps and shivering. A good start. At least the shortsword was of decent quality, but nothing to get excited about. None of the weapons or armor I had looked at was enchanted. I could feel a nudge of something with power from a satchel at the bottom of the sack, but not enough to get excited over. I could feel more power radiating from some of the mushrooms and lichen close by.

Opening the sack a bit more, I spotted three arrows, but sadly, there was no bow. It also made me question why they didn't have any shields. I really, really wanted a shield and, if possible, a long spear to spit goblins on. Letting out an annoyed breath, I threw the arrows at the pile of loot.

“Didn't any of you think to bring a shield or two?”

My voice seemed to startle her out of wherever her mind had run to, hopefully, self-reflection.

“I did, and Robert and Otto had shields. You ass. What's it to you anyway? Plan on torturing me some more so you really can get that dominance kink tickled? Can you at least let me sit up? I can't feel my hands or feet. Why am I still tied up? Is it a bedroom thing? I won't shame a boy for his particulars. Come on! I pose no threat to you.”

She started thrashing around. From what I could see, it only seemed to tighten the bonds even more.

Well, I won't deny my need to dominate, but that was neither here nor there, and I'm quite positive she didn't want that side of me to rear its ugly head now. Then again, neither did I. Just the thought made me shudder in disgust.

With a grunt, I stood up and walked back to her. Clearly, peasant stock. Maybe if I let her heal up a few days, she might actually be presentable if she managed to stay alive for that long; considering how I had found her, I wasn't really overly hopeful about her chances, but that was a her problem.

What I really wanted to know was how the four Hunters managed to get captured or killed by goblins.

She must have seen something in my eyes at the end there because she shied away as if embarrassed or afraid. I couldn't really tell, and I didn't really care. I just wanted information and then to be on my way.

Leaning down, I said.

“Fine. If you try to attack me in any way, I'll break the part you tried it with. Got it?”

At her hurried nod, I walked over and cut the bindings on her swollen red, almost blue feet and cut the bindings. If her scream at the pain of having blood coming back to her extremities didn't bring something down on us, nothing would. I could only hope—more loot.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

Her hands looked as bad as her feet had, so I cut those as well. I imagine it would take a couple of minutes before she was able to move her arms in any meaningful way, longer until she could grasp something or walk. Besides, another scream couldn't hurt, even if the last one sounded more like a tortured pig than a lady.

Picking her up and placing her on a root across from the one I had chosen for myself, I was surprised at how light she was. My backpack outweighs her by a lot.

While she was busy tapping her feet on the ground and trying to massage some sort of feeling back into her hands while giving me the stink eye, I walked back to my designated spot.

“Now, now. I wasn't the one that managed to get myself captured by something a child with a stick can beat up”.

I said before going through the rest of the loot.

“There were dozens, you annoying man-child! How would you do against a hundred goblins?”

As the hint of a plan was starting to form in my mind, I said,

“Carefully and with a lot of preparation.”

Her snort spoke volumes about what she thought about any possible preparations I could come up with.

To my disgust, there was almost no camping equipment, just another small pot and some ground-up brown bits I imagined were coffee. I was keeping the last part. I have never been much for tea outside of lazy mornings.

The satchel I felt a sliver of power from seemed to contain a few books, potions, and bandages. There were also instruments I`m positive were used to torture people. I could easily imagine a few uses for them. The energy signature, the power I had felt, came from the potions and a flat black rock. I noticed the girl freeze as I rummaged through the satchels. You should try getting kidnapped less often, little lady. This was my loot now.

Putting everything but the pot on the growing loot pile, I dug deeper, but I was sad only to find some hard bread and a few scraps of paper. Shaking my head in disgust, I went back to pillaging the first makeshift bag.

My arm halfway into the first loot sack, I asked,

“So, why did the four of you decide to take on a goblin force larger than you were prepared for? Seems like a dumb way to die. Well, for your friends. In your case, until your body gave out and stopped popping out goblin snots. I imagine they eventually would have made a nice stew of your remains.”

I didn't have much sympathy for idiots, especially since I have been one for the last fifteen years. I'm, after all, an expert on the topic. Maybe I should open lectures at the university when I get back to Murktown.

Loot! Money pouches. My disappointment at there only being a bit over seven silver was deep, but I would eventually recover from the horror. That brought my total up to 33 gold, 54 silver and 115 copper. It's not too terrible. It was more gold on hand than most barons had during their lifetime. The problem was the price difference between the equipment for Awakened and the normal stuff. Not to forget the noble tax. Everything I looked at sideways would magically become more expensive from me looking at it. It was quite a mystery.

With how few Awakened there were, those offering services to the Awakened were even fewer. Then, there were the exotic materials needed to enchant and create the actual items. I expected it would cost around 300 to 400 gold for a set of armor, clothes and weapons for myself. That was just the base. After that, there were enchanted items that could mean the difference between life and death. My plans for a hedonistic lifestyle were looking bleaker and bleaker. Worst case scenario? Sell the girl.

“Girl. How much do you think I would get for you in Bravell?”

Her head, which had been leaning against the branch as some sort of backrest, bounced forward as she looked at me wide-eyed. Her face turned pallid when she saw my expression. No, I wasn't joking. You are not one of my people, little lady, so your value lies in what you can gain me. I may not have said it out loud, but I'm sure my face conveyed the gist of my thoughts.

“I will kill you if you try dragging' me to that slop bucket.”

Well, at least she was determined about it. Not that I blamed her; I didn't want to Bravell either, and it wasn't me that I was planning on selling. I can just imagine how little she liked the idea. That cesspool made Murktown look like paradise.

Contemplating what direction to take, I watched her attempt to get feelings back in her hands. It was quite interesting to see her hands return to a more or less normal if filthy, color, but I'm going to guess filth was normal. Didn't peasants wrestle pigs around all day or something?

She must have caught my gaze because I saw a flicker of cunning in her eyes before she said, “I want my things back. The armor would hardly fit one as big and strong as you, and the satchel only contains medical books and some cheap medicine. Have you ever trained to use a mace? What use would it have for you?” The change in her voice to honeyed words almost made me laugh. She was leaning forward with her legs crossed and giving what she must have thought was a pretty smile while pushing her chest out. If she knew how her busted, swollen lips looked and how filthy she was, I doubt she would have even attempted this. Then again, I looked my age.

While my body may be fifteen, my mind has experienced a myriad of lives. I felt strangely old and young at the same time. The memories were just a bit difficult to grasp at the moment, but I was sure they would come. Well, that or I had brain damage after the length of time I was without oxygen. I didn't rule out that possibility.

Not that the little ploy was ineffective; I did have the body of a fifteen-year-old. After all, my hormones were all over the place.

It was too bad for her that I wasn't in the hedonistic phase of my plan yet, a few years more before I reached that point, or I might have let this play a bit longer.

“You act like a merchant invited to my castle, offering to sell me water from my well. No, if you want your things back, it depends on what you can trade for them. Tell me about what you and your…companions were doing here first?”

Apparently, this wasn't the way she had planned this to turn out, as shown by her sour expression. As she started moving into a more comfortable possession, I held up a hand and said,

“No, you sit like that.”

You made your bed; be uncomfortable. I didn't have the patience for bullshit at the moment and my hunger was tearing a hole in my stomach. It didn't help with my already sunny dispersion at all.

Reaching into my backpack, I took some bread and cheese and started munching while she looked at me in anger. Yet, she did not change her position.

I clamp my lips shut so as not to let slip a “Good girl.”, but that would probably have done more harm than good.

A mix of hunger and anger blazed in her eyes as she started talking.

“The guild had a mission to scout for a possible raiding camp. Goblins have been attacking farms and merchants more often than normal over the last few weeks. With the nearest dungeon being too far from the road, what normally happens is that they set up a slew of raiding outposts for the dungeon. If they aren't dealt with quickly, they become goblin villages, and that takes a whole lot more hunters to take care of. Better to deal with them early, no?”

It wasn't a question.

“The four of us took the quest on the premise of a four-way split. All extra bounties completed, if any, would go to the one who did the killing, with ten percent going to the group healer.”

Her eyes almost looked glazed over as she spoke, no doubt going through the events and putting herself in the best possible light. I doubt the guild would care any more than I did when she gave her report.

“I don't really know that much about the other three. Sure, I had seen them from time to time passing through the different forts, but like me, all of them were freelancers without any group connections. We left with the quest as a group with a healer, me. A fighter, Robert. A protector, Otto and a scout who said his name was Balin. Almost a normal group of freelancers.”

Again, she seemed lost in thought. I didn't see a need to hurry her along just yet. I had food and warmth. She had neither. Besides, she hadn't gotten to the good part yet. How much.

“I never got their family names, but I never thought to ask if they had one. It was supposed to be a one-time thing, you know, and I have never been long with a group anyway. People just come and go like always.”

Yes, I could imagine. People like her tended to create problems where there were none. It wasn't always their fault, either. A smile here, a touch there. Then someone else came out of the bushes belting on their pants, followed by none other than the little lady. Suddenly, you had issues and a lot of them. The more memories I sifted through, the stranger humanity seemed to me.

“We found the first outpost easy enough; they weren't hiding or anything, but there were close to sixty goblins there said our scout, Balin, so we decided to follow another group of goblins further north. Didn't take long to find the next outpost.”

It would have to be dangerously close to Murktown, but thinking about it. The setup sort of made sense. Hunters didn't go from Murktown to do quests in the Ironwood forest most of the time, only if something terrible had happened. Most hunters would go to the closest forest fort and get their quests and necessities there before heading out to do more mayhem, sometimes for years at a time.

“We only counted ten goblins in the second fort, so Balin offered to see if we could maybe earn ourselves a bit extra by taking down the outpost. It would be an easy few extra silver in the payout and whatever goods they had stolen. ”

I already knew where this was going. It only remains to be revealed whether it is Robert or Otto. The entire thing was starting to sound like a mediocre ballad.

“Balin suddenly came running through our camp, shouting for me to run, but they were already there. Robert died before he could pull his sword. They swarmed him like a pack of rats, finding a corpse in an alleyway. Otto, he tried. He even tried getting them to follow him, but there was nowhere to go. The goblins came from the other side of the clearing, too, killing Balin as he tried to get away. Otto managed to kill two before they took him down. I…There were just too many goblins. The next thing I remember, goblins were carrying me, and then you came.”

That had ended about how I expected it to. Balin was one vindictive piece of shit. I am so proud of him. I would have to raise a glass in his memory.

I am sure there are things she left out, but I frankly don't care. I mainly wanted to know if she would be able to backtrack the route they took to the first of the goblin outposts. Imagine all of that loot… I would need to bring a wagon.

Starting with what was important, I asked.

“So, would you be able to find the goblin outposts again?”