3:20 AM

Wednesday, August 22nd

Jake’s Grandparents’ House

Outside the Goblins’ Huts in the Treehouse Instance

At 3:20 am, only the embers remained of the pit fires that the goblin tribe had started outside their huts. Not even a torchlight remained for them to see with.

The darkness crept in, but the goblins need not worry too much. Coward spawn like them who belonged in the bog of the swamp and hid themselves away in caves had good sight in the dark.

Rather than lacking skill, the goblin race’s problems when facing enemies in the darkness of the night arose from lacking character. There were four goblins stationed as guards that night, two for each branch on the tall tree their brood occupied, and not a single one of them was awake.

And why would they be? The goblin night watch was chosen not for capability, but for weakness. As was always the case in primitive goblin society, everything the strong did not want to do fell on those who could not hand the beaten given to them back.

It was an absolutely terrible way to find qualified job candidates. The only reason the goblins assigned to guard duty had to even try was the threat of a beating from goblins who were already asleep, so why even bother?

Which is why they didn’t. Goblin guards were often found by goblin extermination parties to be sleeping on the job. Tonight was no exception. Hidden behind their respective huts and wrapped in blankets stolen from the human tree fort, the goblin guards on both branches were asleep. A sleep so deep that they did not hear the low growl of the metal beast as its master gave it life.

The beast’s growl did not wake them, but its roar as it tore into tree’s flesh certainly did.

Tooth and Bone, the pair of guards on one of the two decks that sat on the branches, were startled awake by the cry of a beast that would not pause for breath. They flipped over from where they were sitting behind their branch’s hut and started looking all around for what sort of beast could make such an unfamiliar sound.

The two of them were more alert than they should have been. Earlier that night, they’d taken the water that makes the throat burn from the human tree fort, but instead of making their heads spinny it merely fizzled on their tongues without robbing them of their sense.

As they peaked around the side of their tribe’s circular hut, Bone slapped Tooth’s shoulder. He pointed across the bridge that led to the human fort atop the tree and said, “Look. There,” in their native tongue.

Tooth did as he said and looked. Across the bridge, there was something shaped like a man. It was knelt down, cutting away at the branch that their hut sat on with its screaming blade.

“Hey!” Tooth shouted at the man. “Hey! You stop! We kill!” The man thing ignored him and kept tearing away at the branch.

Tooth sneered. Stupid man things only had their size to them. They never understood the tongue of their betters.

“Let’s kill! Kill!” Bone said, shaking Tooth’s shoulder. He picked up his spear and handed Tooth his too.

Tooth smiled. Neither of them really cared about protecting their fellow goblins, but they both were fond of the idea of murdering the arrogant big people.

Taking the lead, Tooth rushed towards the bridge leading across the branch howling like a banshee. He was going to shove his spear through the man thing’s face. He was…

Tooth stopped his charge as soon as the man thing looked up at him. Fear filled Tooth’s head and filled his heart. The man thing’s face was a paler white than anything Tooth had ever seen. Its eyes were black pits from which light did not escape and through which Tooth felt it would devour his soul. It had no mouth, only holes to slip fingers through and bite them off.

That was no man thing. That was a monster.

It pulled its blade away from the tree’s branch and the blade’s breathless roar became a growl as it bared its fangs that surely would rend soul from body.

“Raahh! Oof!” As Tooth stood there frozen by terror, Bone ran straight into his back shouting.

“Hey! What doing, idiot?” Bone complained before looking over Tooth’s shoulder. Upon catching sight of the pale-faced terror, Bone left his mouth hanging open.

The nightmare lifted its blade and made it roar. It only took Bone a fraction of a second to start his charge back over the bridge. He ran into their tribe’s hut, screaming at the top of his lungs.

Tooth was hot on his tail, only looking back when the roar of the night terror’s blade became muffled by the sound of the tree being torn into. The monster hadn’t chased them, it just went back to cutting away at their branch.

Tooth picked up his bow, but struggled to pick up the arrow he was getting ready to fire with how jumped with fright he was. Managing to pick it up, he brought it to his bowstring with shaky hands, turning to the nightmare, and aiming.

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Before he could fire, the deck shook violently, tilting over and causing him to drop his arrow. He heard the tree shriek as the monster robbed it off its soul. That was what was going to happen to him too if he didn’t pick up his arrow and fire it.

Tooth dived down and grabbed his arrow before it could slide away, but the tree began shrieking again. The deck and branch beneath him started falling and he was coming along with them.

As Tooth fell, the sound of the nightmare’s blade went silent for the first time since it had woken him. The world went dark and Tooth felt a horrible pain lash out throughout his body. It only lasted for a couple seconds before he felt nothing ever again.

Back up on top of tree fort’s deck, where neither the goblins who had fallen to their deaths and the goblins who still had a branch and deck to stand on were near enough to hear, the pale-faced terror whispered under the growl of its resting blade.

“One down…”

As it stood from where it was knelt, Stone and Stench, the goblin guards on the other branch’s deck fired two arrows at it. The arrow that Stench fired flew by, barely missing it while the one Stone fired went wide and broke through one of the tree fort’s windows.

Across the gap between where it stood and the goblins stood, the night terror stared at them. Stench was sure it’d unleash some soul rending attack on them and almost wet himself. Instead, it made its screaming blade vanish, then marched over to the ladder to climb down the side of the tree.

They fired arrows at it as it descended, hitting its side with a couple, but that didn’t seem to phase it. Stone fired one that flew true for its head, but the arrow was swallowed by a black maw.

More confused than terrified in that moment, Stone readied his next arrow to try again, but once the monster had climbed halfway down the tree, it suddenly vanished. Things became quiet and with that quiet came fear. Was it gone or was it getting ready to attack from some unseen place?

The two goblins' eyes darted back-and-forth from down below to behind them searching for the monster. After a few minutes of frantic paranoia, Stone pushed Stench. “Go,” he said, pointing over the bridge towards the ladder leading down the side of the tree.

“Ungh, ungh!” Stench shook his head, fiercely, but cowered when Stone raised his fist. The goblin’s amongst the night watch were made up of the weak, but even amongst the weak there was a hierarchy. Of all the goblin’s who were present—including the ones who had just fallen fifty feet to their death—Stench was the weakest. The only thing strong about him was his odor.

Cursing his better under his breath, as all goblins often did, Stench reluctantly crossed the bridge over to the human tree fort with spear and bow. As quietly as he could he checked around the tree fort’s corner. Thankfully for his soul’s sake, he found nothing. He looked down the ladder, next, but found nothing there as well.

With great hesitation, he checked the inside of the tree fort through the window Stone had broken with his arrow. His eyes darted around looking through the darkness of the room and then…

“BAH!” that dagger-nosed spawn of swamp gas, Stone, shouted from the safety of the front of their branch’s hut.

With a shout, Stench jumped up in fright. He could hear Stone laughing at him for getting startled.

“Shut up!” Stench shouted, turning around. Stone was laying on the deck, pointing and laughing at him as he held his gut. The stronger of the weakest goblins of the tribe kept it up until he felt the deck shake beneath him. Stench didn’t feel it, but he had heard whatever had thumped down over there and caused it.

The two goblins went silent. The sound of the screaming blades growl returned to their ears and Stone heard footsteps behind the hut. Stone turned around and started backing away from the hut slowly. Out from behind the hut came the pale-faced terror with his screaming blade in hand.

Stone screamed. He turned around running for the bridge that led across the branch while Stench watched in horror. The terror was too fast, its legs were too long. By the time Stone reached the bridge, the monster was upon him.

The nightmare’s blade wailed as it tore through Stone’s back and out through his chest. His screams were drowned in the blood flooding his mouth and lungs.

As the monster pulled its blade from Stone’s corpse, it looked across the bridge at Stench. Upon meeting its gaze, Stench dropped the bow he had in his hand and very visibly began to wet himself.

Like how it had made itself vanish when it was climbing down the ladder, the pale-faced terror made its screaming blade disappear. In its place, it summoned the metal that wraps the spinny and the fizzy waters and a fire that sparkled.

Stench stood in place confused and frozen until the monster shot a breath of fire from the wrap of metal and through the flame that sparkled at him. The flames covered Stench’s skin and he threw himself to the ground, rolling as they burned him.

Eventually, he managed to put them out. The fire left pain and wounds that would become scars, but he would live. Stench turned his gaze to his tribe’s hut across the bridge. Though the fires burning upon him had been put out, he still heard the sound of a roaring flame. The pale-faced terror had used his fire beast to cover the tribe’s last hut in flame.

The roar of the screaming blade returned as the nightmare used it to tear through the entrance of the hut, collapsing it.

With the monster’s back turned to him, Stench picked up his bow and fired an arrow into its back. The arrow landed and both the monster and Stench paused. When the arrow disappeared, leaving no mark upon where it landed on the terror’s back, Stench realized the futile nature of his actions.

The monster turned around and raised its screaming blade above its head. As it came charging towards the bridge, Stench threw away his bow and ran towards the ladder leading down the tree.

But the monster was too fast. Stench got to the ladder, but only made it a few steps down before the monster pulled him back up. He bit at its hand and was slammed to the ground in return. He shrieked in pain as the monster cut through the arm he had shot it with.

The screaming blade disappeared and Stench grabbed onto what was left of his arm. The pale-faced terror lifted him up by his neck, almost strangling him with only one hand. It pulled him in close.

This was it, Stench thought, this would be the moment that it would steal his soul.

Instead, the nightmare spoke in a deep voice. It said, “Don’t touch what isn’t yours.” Then it threw him from the tree, fifty feet to the ground below.