It was time. The signal, the one which spurred Shaeyas out of hiding and into action, was the sound of that bear trap going off. The trespassers would be shocked and startled. Uncertain. For at least a few more moments, when they were able to determine where the rest of the traps were.

This was her and Tavlen's chance.

She burst upright out of the ash, already nocking an arrow to her bow. She squinted, allowing her eyes to adjust to the bright spears of sunlight glancing in through the trees. She took in her surroundings, zeroing in on the nearest intruder, and her target; the tall one, in the cloak.

He looked much like what she had always imagined a goblin would, if a bit tall, with light olive skin, and surprisingly human facial features. He was reaching one gloved hand into the fold of his cloak, feeling for something, probably some means of self-defense.

She had to take the shot, while time was still frozen, while the moment remained.

She pulled back, one eye closed. She aimed for the center of his chest, and couldn't help but take stock of the twitch of nervous fear on the cloaked person's face. He seemed so human, so...real. His hair hung long and dark, shiny and greasy from his journey, one curled lock spilling down the front of his face, the end of it resting against his cheek.

She couldn't kill this person, could she? It was such an unfair way to die, wasn't it, to be ambushed and shot? What thoughts must be going through his head, what regrets?

But then Shaeyas thought of her dead husband. The severed leg, poisoned and infected, covered in pus. The fact that he must have been in sheer agony, hoping to only see his wife one last time, and dying before he had the chance. And suddenly, it was easy.

Jaw locked, gritting her teeth behind soot-smeared lips, Shaeyas loosed the arrow.

It was only a short flight, cut short at the last second by flash of movement as the figure produced something from within his cloak, and the glint of polished steel under the morning sun.

The arrow spun harmlessly away, while the figure brandished a curved dagger, the flat of which he'd used to bat the arrow away.

How in hell...

He smirked, actually smirked, all signs of the fear he'd shown before completely evaporating.

A ploy. A sly trick to buy maybe a half-second of time. But he'd sure needed that half-second, hadn't he?

Shaeyas reached for another arrow.

Movement. The other goblins--shorter and more hunched than the cloaked one, with darker, blotchier skin and wart-like protrusions on their faces--were surrounding her, moving in. On her left, one of them stepped on another steel jaw trap, and fell to the ground, howling in pain.

Shaeyas skirted backward and away from two more goblins approaching on her right. She hopped twice deftly, once to avoid the location of one of the traps, and another time to give the impression of a trap being there, when in fact there wasn't one. As a result, the pair of goblins avoided that section of ground, veering around it, and into another actual jaw trap. It caught one of them, clamping onto his shin, immobilizing him. The other stepped around his fellow, only a few steps away from Shaeyas, sword raised.

Shaeyas raised her bow, loosing the nocked arrow. The arrow embedded in the goblin's windpipe, causing him to falter, dropping his sword and clutching at his throat. Shaeyas felt her jaw clench again with a certain satisfaction. It felt good to hurt them. It wouldn't bring Venkas back, but it was something to do with herself, some way to respond to what had happened, and besides, it needed to be done, it was her or them.

She reached for another arrow. One of the goblins, closer to the cloaked one, had already nocked an arrow and was aiming in Shaeyas' direction.

She had two options--either she could attempt to shoot the goblin first, or try to evade the shot, following up with an attack of her own.

Almost before she could decide, something flashed in her peripheral, a spinning object that spun as it flew through the air, striking the goblin in the chest. There was a glimpse of the wooden handle of Tavlen's meat cleaver, jutting from the goblin's torso, just before he went down.

Shaeyas turned, following the trajectory from which the cleaver had come. It was Tavlen of course, having just emerged from her own hiding place, covered in ash from head to toe, much like Shaeyas herself. Her grandmother was standing just a few paces behind the cloaked leader of the goblins, who himself was just becoming aware of the presence behind him. He started to turn.

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Tavlen stepped in close behind him, drawing one of her small kitchen knives from her belt and pressing it against the side of the cloaked one's neck, near the jugular.

"Drop your blade, and call off your dogs," Tavlen hissed into his ear.

A number of emotions--seemingly genuine this time--traveled across the cloaked one's features. Surprise. Annoyance. Acceptance.

"You know I'll do it," Tavlen said.

The cloaked one sighed. "Yes. I know."

He held his dagger out and away from his body, dropping it so it landed point-down in the dirt. He put up his hands.

"Put your down your weapons," Tavlen said, glancing around at the rest of the goblins, all of whom seemed frozen with apprehension, not sure what should happen next.

"Do as she says," the cloaked one said, grudgingly.

Another long, suspenseful silence.

Finally, the clatter of a sword landing on the ashy turf, sliding and clanging against a cluster of rocks.

The other goblins followed suit, removing their weapons and dropping them to the ground, looking irritable, furious. Perhaps just a little afraid, though Shaeyas found she was having a hard time reading their not-quite-human faces.

Maybe it wasn't so much fear as uncertainty, the desire to fend for oneself warring with an equally strong sense of loyalty. For now, the loyalty was winning out.

"Shaeyas!" Tavlen hissed, still pressing the point of her knife firmly against the cloaked figure's neck, causing a small trickle of blood to run down toward his collar, a thin crimson line. "The net!"

Right.

Putting away her bow, Shaeyas navigated around the traps hidden under the ash, toward an area next to the now-burned-down shed. She bent down and pulled a rolled-up net and a length of rope up out of the ash.

"All of you," Tavlen said. "Cluster together. I want you all in one spot, one big group hug."

Of the fifteen goblins--not counting the one in the cloak--who had approached the thresholds of the cabins and shed only moments ago, only twelve were currently in the vicinity, with only seven being capable of walking anywhere at the moment. All seven were looking at both Shaeyas and Tavlen with defiant incredulity.

"You really think we're that stupid?" Said one of them, in West Common. He had a fresh cut on the side of his face, and fiery orange eyes. "The second any one of us moves, we'll end up like...them."

He was gesturing toward the three goblins immobilized by the jaw traps, one of them bleeding profusely and appearing to have lost consciousness.

"My granddaughter will direct you," Tavlen said. "If you refuse, I'll poke your leader here all the way to the hilt, and we can go back to watching you lot flounder around until you trigger all the traps. Then Shaeyas here will pick you off with her bow one by one. If that wasn't already clear."

The one with the orange eyes made a hissing sound, then spat.

"Fine," he said, his voice rough and raspy. "After you, Milady."

Shaeyas bit back her retort. Actually, she was having trouble thinking of one. It seemed right to say something to put him in his place, but her heart was pounding mercilessly, and her head felt light and airy. The danger was far from over; it didn't seem like the adrenaline was going to taper off anytime soon. She could already feel her hands starting to shake. Best just to go through the motions and get this over with.

"Over there," she said, pointing to the steps to his left.

The goblin strafed two steps to his left, scowling. Shaeyas continued to give directions, positioning him in the place both she and Tavlen had planned—an open area, free of traps. As soon as the orange-eyed one was in place, one of the other goblins shifted suddenly, pulling a throwing knife from inside his leather jerkin, aiming in Tavlen's direction.

What happened next was a twitch, a reflex more than anything else—the result of over a decade of hunting and archery practice. She drew and fired almost before she was consciously aware of having done so. The arrow found the goblin's shoulder, putting him off balance and causing him to slip on the ashy turf. He landed on his shoulder, tripping a jaw trap that bit down on his neck and face. He screamed, but the screams soon turned into a wet gurgling sound.

Shaeyas' heart jumped, then did a steep dive and roll. That had been close—too close. Still, she needed to stay calm and collected; otherwise, it wouldn't end there. They would try to press a perceived advantage.

Taking a deep breath to steady herself--which hopefully no one else could see--she grabbed another arrow and drew it back.

"Anyone else?"

The remaining five did exactly as they were told without uttering a word. Soon, Shaeyas had them all corralled together in one spot. She put her bow and arrow away long enough to pick up the net and hoist it, draping it over the six goblins. She pulled on the long ropes connected to the end of the net, knocking the goblins off their feet until they were all wiggling and struggling inside the net. Efficient, if a bit comical to look at.

She moved down the length of the ropes, closer to the net, and bound the ends of the net together, trapping them—at least for now. Sure, if they really tried, they could probably bite or cut their way free, but at least this way it would be easier to keep an eye on them. She picked up the length of rope, the one separate from the net, and headed over toward Tavlen and the mysterious hostage, still being careful to avoid any hidden traps that were left.

"Hands behind your back," Tavlen said, with a level of calm that honestly shocked Shaeyas, given the situation.

Sighing, the hostage acquiesced. "You know, it doesn't have to be like this."

"Oh," Tavlen said. "I think it does."

Shaeyas looped the rope around the goblin leader's wrists, then in between the arms, forming a tight, stiff knot, like a pair of cuffs.

"Done," Shaeyas said.

Only then did Tavlen lower the knife, but only long enough to turn the prisoner around to face her, before returning the blade to it's position against the person's neck, just above the collarbone.

There was something dark in Tavlen's eyes. Something dangerous. Something Shaeyas had never seen before.

"You should have never come here," Tavlen said.

In the face of so much fury, so much hostility, the prisoner only smirked. "It's good to see you too, mother."