It was bright, searingly bright and the ground was heavy or rather my whole body felt heavy. So this is the surface. The sun is merciless, especially to underworld dwellers and the air makes me feel lightheaded. But those are the least of my troubles. Currently, I am lying down on the damp ground. Seeking comfort in my moment of respite. The ascent to the surface was harder than I anticipated. In my present physical state, I am glad that I am alone. For none of my deep drow acquaintances would approve of it. No, rather they would enjoy my present state.
“Look how the mighty have fallen”, they would glee.
“Once a proud matriarch, now a shorned exile”, they would chime in, relishing in my destitute.
Before I could enjoy my newfound temporary relief, I sensed motions near me. It seemed like movements made by a herd. Sharpening my senses, I tried to gauge the situation. I tried to sense the movements in the ground, the sounds made by movements through forests. Every other sense that I could use to perceive my surroundings. For one, it seems that the herd I sensed seems to be made by two-legged creatures. Then carefully listening to the rhythm of the strides, I estimate they are roughly as tall as an average adult drow but a bit heavier. Humans. I sigh a bit in relief. Not that humans are in any way allies to the drows nor are they harmless. But running into humans in my state is far better than running into one of those surface-dwelling elves. Or much worse, it could have been one of those high nosed self-righteous pricks, the so-called high-elves.
Listening to my inner voice of caution, I decided to investigate the human presence. I am certain of my stealth skill, after all that is what we drows are well known for. As a high ranking dark elf, I am assured that most humans and surface dwellers will not be able to perceive me. I trailed a bit in the direction of the movement and after what I presumed to be a suitable distance, I decided to lie low and examine the group of humans travelling before me. At first glance, they seemed like a ragtag bunch, gruff, unclean, a bit of tattered armour, and a lot of weapons. So they are not farmers or travelling merchants. A lot of weapons to be farmers, but too uncivilised to be from any sanctioned army. The way they carried themselves, their gait and mannerism definitely do not belong to any merchants. So maybe a mercenary band on the march, bandits, raiders, slavers or all the above as the situation demands.
They were five in number, if I count the small creature in rags with hands and ankles bound, then six. I followed them for a short distance. Ruminating if they could be a threat until a strong smell assaulted my nostrils. I knew that the small captive creature is a goblin. The pungent smell emanating from the creature was strong enough to know its race. But now, I sense even more pungent odour. So I prepared my sights to notice if there are any hidden creatures nearby. Immediately, my senses told me of two other goblins following the human party. Most likely they are trying to find a means to free one of their own from captivity.
I turned my attention to the sneaking goblins. They might be ugly, weak and simple-minded, but those little critters sure know how to sneak. That makes sense, as that is how smaller and weaker races would survive. Thinking of which, isn’t the important trait of the goblins, their fecundity? They multiply real fast. Where there is one goblin, there are always more. So why are there only two of them following the party? Are they advance scout? In which case, I am certain a war party of goblins would soon arrive. Or probably not. As the next few moments revealed.
The humans stopped at a clearing and took out their rations. The captive goblin found itself tied to a tree trunk. One of the bandits threw a small dart at the tied goblin, which missed its victim by a tiny amount. While his companions joked about his aiming skills, one of his other companions threw an axe at the hapless creature. The tiny tied up goblin, drooped its ears, stared at its captors with big pleading eyes, which just for a moment looked sort of cute, but only for a moment. It was followed by a shrill cry issuing from the captive goblin and the thrown axe met its ears and sliced a part of it and then buried itself in the wood.
“Shut it, my eardrums cannot bear the noise anymore”, said one of them.
“All the more, the better”, said another. This human seemed a bit important. He carried the air of command among this bunch, and his armour and weapons were a bit well suited than the others. “We need to draw the others. They need to be taught a lesson”. As he spoke, he stressed the intonation of the word taught.
Living for centuries, all drows learn a few human languages in their lifetime. So I am unsure which human language it was that this ragtag bunch spoke, but it seems these goblins and their habit of taking anything that is not nailed to the ground, lead to this confrontation. My eyes spotted the two sneaking goblins hurrying and getting ready for their ambush. They even applied poison to the tip of their arrows. Not that it would help them. The flint head arrows might take down a lightly clothed opponent, but it would not even penetrate a studded leather. I knew the outcome of this ambush.
But still, it surprised me that the goblins would act this way. For all my knowledge of goblins, they are a cowardly bunch and quick to abandon their own to save themselves. Which explains why there are only two of them on this futile ambush. I moved to a suitable position and made myself visible to the goblins. Approaching them would be the easiest option but since I am unable to infer how the goblins would respond to my approach, I decided the best course of action is to let them notice me. I adopted a simple meditative pose on the ground with both my palms open.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
Even though I adopted a non-threatening stance, I could still see the panic and terror behind those goblin eyes.
“Grand Dark Mistress,” one of them stammered, “no hurt, only take back goblin.....do not hurt Grand Dark Mistress....or Mistress men......”
Meanwhile, the other one kowtowed itself on the ground. “Do not know......all belong to Grand Dark Mistress.......will never take from Mistress”.
Alright, so now they think the bandit gang belongs to me. I sighed a bit and said “I no harm goblin.....not My men..... Do not care.....you die if you attack now.....” I choose to speak in simple sentences partly because, I am unsure if the goblins could comprehend fully formed sentences, and also it has been many a decade since I last spoke any human tongue.
As soon as the words “not my men” were uttered, I could see a relief wash over their faces. The stammering one regarded me with awe and reverence and started strengthening its grip on its crude bow. I knew it wants something from me. I slightly raised an eyebrow and said, “speak”.
“Grand Dark Mistress help small goblins.....please..... goblins small but good servants...... goblins will help Dark Mistress in forest.” It considered me for a moment and then continues, “Big Humans are no problem for Proud Dark Mistress. Mistress call scary Spiders, Big Snakes. Mistress is shadow. Humans fear Mistress”
I quickly weighed my options. It would be prudent for me to avoid getting involved in a conflict between surface races, after all, I came to the surface to fade away into obscurity. The deep undergrounds caverns hold nothing for me anymore. That part of my life, however I wish, is over. The goblins only want to rescue their own. So at least their motivation is simple to understand. As for the humans, I am not sure what is their motive. To beat a few goblins, steal or loot along the way. Perhaps, that is all that they want.
“Why not run away? Why do you want to die for one goblin?” I prodded them further.
“We not listen”, said the other goblin. “Leader say, If one goblin die, then no problem. If two or three goblins dies, no problem. Shaman also say No. We do not listen”. Alright, so now they seemed to take familiarity with me. No more broken single words. Also, I have got my hands on the rebellious bunch. Furthermore, it seems they have an extremely wrong notion of me. Sure, I could have summoned an army of Ungoliants or deep Hydras, if I were still my former self. However, I am at the lowest ebb of my life. But the goblins do not know it. To think that there were a few brave ones among the goblins. I decided to help the goblins, if not for anything, but for the curiosity of seeing the outcome.
“What kind of poison is it?” I lifted a finger at them and pointed to their arrows. “Bring it to me”.
The odour gave it away but still, I touched it with the tip of my finger and tasted it, to be certain. A paralysing poison.
“Poison very strong but Dark Mistress is stronger,” Said one of the goblins. “Poison cannot kill Grand Dark Mistress” added the other one. We dark elves are naturally resistant to poison and being a matriarch of a clan, since my early day, I have consumed small amounts of poison as a part of my everyday meal to build further resistance. But the part about poison not killing me is not entirely true. One extracted from the great wyrms and distilled by a High-Alchemist might kill me. But most of the average poisons will not be sufficient to even make me feel nauseous.
“Wrong Poison, do you have any extract from scorpions?” For what I have in mind, scorpion venom is the best. The way they blinked and looked at each other, I knew the answer. “Any other poison you have?”. Since they came prepared with bows, sharp wooden spears, flint knives along with paralysing poison they are not as stupid as most races believe them to be.
One of the goblins dug into its small satchel and brought out two small mushrooms. A psychedelic hallucinogen? Never mind. I gave them too much credit for their intelligence.
“Do you have anything from serpents or giant centipedes or bats?” I asked while mentally listing out all possible poisonous creatures...” ants. Big ants?” I added.
At the mention of ants, the same mushroom goblin took out a small vial. Boiled lava ants decoction. Just the right poison for the situation.
“Wanted to make food for Grand Dark Mistress. Add to food. Make stew taste good. Goblins makes great stew only for Goblin King and Dark Mistress”. I had to rethink the words to understand. Were they planning to use it as a seasoning? This explains why most Goblin Monarch tend not to live long.
Next, I pointed them to a vine growing nearby. They quickly understood what I needed and set about cutting the vine with their crude stone knives and reverently brought them to me. Their weapons would definitely not stand against those bandits, and I am without any weapons. Not to mention, even if the three of us managed to grab one of their weapons, those weapons are too heavy to swing. A vine, even a makeshift one, would make a decent whip in the hands of an expert. And there is no better expert with a whip than a female dark elf.
So I set about explaining our battle strategy to the two goblins. As I learned, the two goblins were named Maapu and Theko. I tried explaining the plan as simple as I could to those. I could sense their hesitation as we went over some of the steps. Finally, Theko said, “Mistress will save us, yes. can trust Grand Dark Mistress?”.
I understand their hesitation. Since a greater part of the plan revolves around not revealing my presence. If those bandits were expecting a bunch of goblins with pointy sticks, then a Dark Elf would throw them off their guard and I am hoping to take upon the surprise factor while attacking. But first, I needed the goblins to hold their nerves.
“If I wanted the two of you dead, I could do it myself. No need for those men or plans. Trust me.” I am uncertain if they were able to grasp what I mentioned but the mention of death at my hands seems to have overridden their fear of death at the hands of the bandits.
And so we set about laying counter traps for ambushing the bandits.