The next day, Gilreg climbed the jagged edges to the top of the cave entrance. His ribs were still sore, making the ordinarily easy climb harder. The air was thin and cold in the early morning. From his high perch, he saw the rubble of the barren landscape that the cave temple was in. A land that was said to have been ravaged in a war between two powerful wizards. Evidence of a fantastic civilization could be found, such as the temple, under the rubble. Now it is a wasteland only fit for goblins. The High Races have claimed the more habitable parts of the world, and Gilreg’s tribe was forced to live among the rubble of forgotten empires.

Gilreg sang a sad song about the trials of his people. His voice was light and soothing and blended perfectly into the wind. The song spoke of how their homelands were taken from them by the Humans, Dwarves, and Elves. How now his people live among the rocks of the harsh mountains. His song finished, and he sat watching the sunlight on the mountainside. The wind bit sharply into the bare flesh of his arms and face. But he was a goblin and was used to the harsh conditions.

Beneath him, coming from the cave entrance, were Raine and Shaymus. They were going to reset their traps along the eastern route to the temple in case any more adventurers decided to show up. Gilreg looked along the rocky mountain paths to the west. That was the direction of his tribe, and he did not see the relief wagon that was scheduled to arrive sometime today. He clambered down to the cave entrance and walked inside the temple.

He found Nulrok sitting cross-legged on top of the altar. Neatly arranged in sacks and piles were the loot they had gained from their weeks guarding the Chalice.

“How did we do?” The warrior asked.

Nulrok opened his pupilless black eyes and leaped off the altar. He produced a chalk slab and surveyed the treasure.

“We did very well. We had three successful ambushes. We got four spears, a mace, a war hammer, two bows, three axes, and one sword. We have nearly 8 suits of leather armor that can be salvaged. We got enough jewelry to fill this pouch,” The mage said and tossed the pouch to Gilreg.

The warrior deftly caught the pouch and looked inside. He found an assortment of rings, necklaces, and bracelets.

“Any of them magical?” He asked.

Nulrok shook his head and then smiled. He produced a wand that looked a little worn and was a crooked stick with a metal handle.

“Is that valuable?” Gilreg asked.

“Oh yes. Very. This here is probably our most precious loot.”

“Zaploc is here,” Shaymus said, startling the two. The smaller pale-eyed goblin took joy in showing off her stealth skills.

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“By the Dreaded One!” Nulrok exclaimed.

Gilreg’s hands were at his weapons, and he relaxed. He saw Raine entering the temple behind Shaymus.

“Let’s grab our treasure and head out!” Gilreg commanded.

Outside the cave entrance, there was a sizeable rickety wagon pulled by a dour-looking mule. The wagon was made of various pieces of scrap wood, leather, and nails. It looked shoddy, but it worked. Zaploc was guiding the mule, and the grizzled warrior smiled upon seeing the four exit the cave.

“By the Dreaded One. I’m happy to see you,” the old goblin said with a hoarse voice.

He clasped hands with Gilreg. Despite his old age, the warrior was still very strong. His muscles corded under his leathery grey skin.

“Where is the next crew?” Gilreg asked while scanning the area.

“None coming this time. We had a bad cycle,” Zaploc grunted, and the old goblin headed into the cave.

“Bad cycle?” Nulrok asked.

“Load up the wagon,” Girleq ordered the three and hurried after Zaploc.

The old goblin moved fast, defying his age. Goblins were slightly smaller than the other races, averaging just above 1.5 meters in height. Warriors of the tribe needed to be fast to compete. What goblins lacked in brute strength, they made up with agility and speed.

“Talk to me, Zaploc. What is happening?” Gilreg asked as he ran to catch up with the older goblin.

Zaploc was pulling out a heavy ring filled with keys and glanced with his one good eye at the younger warrior. The other eye was behind a worn leather patch. The jagged scar that ran across his cheekbone to his forehead told the story of what happened to his eye.

“We lost a lot of goblins this last cycle. All of the relics were taken,” he explained.

The older goblin got to the large steel door and used a heavy key to open it. Behind the door was a pedestal that held the Golden Chalice. Zaploc took the Chalice tenderly in his two gnarled hands.

“Except this. I am proud of you, Gilreg. I trained you well.”

“How is that possible...you mean lost?” The weight of the older goblin’s words hit Gilreg like a heavy rockfall. The other relics were guarded by his family and his friends. If they were lost…?

“Shannoc? Tulnok?” He asked his two cousins whom he trained up with.

Zaploc placed a firm hand on Gilreg’s shoulder and looked at him with one eye.

“I am sorry,” was all the older goblin said, and then walked off to exit the temple.

Anguish squeezed at Girleq’s chest so hard that he could barely breathe. It was hard to comprehend, to believe. He breathed deeply and then quickly followed the old goblin to the cave entrance. Outside, the wagon was fully loaded with all the loot they obtained from their cycle guarding the Chalice. The others stood in a semicircle with questioning looks on their faces. Zaploc did not provide them with any explanations. He led the mule to turn around, and he headed back west toward their tribe. The others looked to Gilreg.

“Was he holding the Chalice?” Nulrok asked.

“That is the last relic. The others were lost this cycle,” Gilreg said, barely able to hold back his anguish.

His words hit them like a heavy wave. They all paused in silence as they understood the repercussions of what was said. Family, friends, and training partners. Many of them were lost forever. Even the callous Shaymus was silent. The wagon creaking could be heard as Zaploc led it further away.

“Let us go. We will learn more at the village,” Gilreg said.