We race outside to find chaos on the streets of Orvar’s Cross. All able bodied goblins are rallying to the warning bell’s toll, pulling on makeshift armour as they leave their houses, arming themselves with whatever they can lay their hands on that might cause some damage. The prize for the most ramshackle gear goes to a goblin wearing a colander for a helmet. He’s using what looks like an arm pulled from a weathered stone statue as a club. Others are more appropriately decked out in padded chest pieces and leather aprons, ready to take on the enemy with an assortment of rakes and scythes, spears and heirloom swords taken down from above the mantelpiece.

Drifandi is placing sheaves of his famous arrows in rows on his front garden. We watch as a variety of the townsfolk grab the precious ammo and head towards the danger, which seems to be at the south end of the town, near where we left Andraya. For a brief moment, I worry that she’s the cause of the trouble herself. Perhaps she acted on the divine feud she mentioned earlier and murdered a few of Captain Suckass’s followers. But thankfully, she soon appears at the end of the street. She waves at us to come and join her.

“Over here!” she shouts. “There’s battle to be had!”

“Bit keen,” I say to Misty as we sprint towards our comrade. “I thought I was the one with the new found eagerness for a fight.” I feel it again, that unusual wave of happiness at the the thought of a scrap. I wonder if I’ll ever get used to it.

“What are we up against?” We ask Andraya when we reach her, pausing a moment to get our breath back.

“Not sure. A terrified goblin came running from the marsh a few minutes ago. He’s the one who raised the alarm. He blabbed something to me about ‘teeth and bone!’ as he ran past on his way to ring the bell. Might be Old Jaggit himself coming at us!”

There’s a goblin shield wall of sorts forming about fifty yards ahead of us, past the southern edge of town, at the border of the swamp. The brawniest and bravest have linked shields and wooden boards, lowering their spears to face whatever slinks from the marsh fog. There’s a row of archers behind them, seven or eight goblins with shortbows and crossbows, all of them loaded with Drifandi’s arrows no doubt. Mistle brews some firewater potions as we jog over to join the second rank, and Andraya slots a bolt into her handbow. My sword is drawn and I’m ready. Excited even, to defend the good goblin folk of Orvar’s Cross with my life. It still feels alien to be this gung-ho, but I like it.

All is quiet, as we strain our ears for telltale sounds of the enemies approaching. It’s difficult to see what’s in front of us as the dark marsh mists are thickening, drifting towards the town with unnatural purpose.

“There!” a goblin shouts, pointing ahead to our right. “I saw something! There!”

A shape lunges from the mist, a great snarling river lizard with its jaws snapping. It's like a huge crocodile, but with stegosaurus style bone plates running in two rows along its back. There’s something else too. Something riding it.

“Is that a bloody skeleton on its back?” Veppi asks with eyes wide.

Part of me takes the briefest moment to appreciate just how fucking cool this is. A crocodile riding undead was not the kind of thing I thought I’d ever encounter outside of staring at a monitor. Yet here we are. It might be about to hurt us, but I have to pause to take in how badass it is. It has that fierce skull grin, defiant and horrifying, demonic red lights blazing in its eye sockets. Scrags of flesh hang from its bones like red ribbon and it wears a black cloak held together around its neck bones by a glowing blue brooch. There’s a staff in its hand made of gnarled black wood, which it lifts to the skies before shrieking out a spell.

“Elding til naglfar!”

A spray of what looks like fingernails shoots from the tip of the staff, striking the shield wall in a hail of keratin bullets. That opening salvo is quite enough for some of our plucky green defenders, who break ranks and flee back towards the town. The goblins that remain are bleeding and cussing but they hold the line, steeling themselves for further attack. One has her hand clamped firmly over her eye, blood pouring through the gaps in her fingers.

As more lizards emerge from the mist, the goblin archers let fly, a deadly arc of Difrandi’s perfect arrows streaming at the enemy. There are four, maybe five river lizards in total, but thankfully, only the largest bears a skeleton mage upon its back. The beasts are too large a target to miss, and they cry and hiss as the arrows strike.

As the battle unfolds before us, my companions are quick to act. Misty hurls one of her fire bottle grenades at three of the lizards that are tightly packed together as they advance. The creatures are going wide, heading further to our right in an effort to outflank the line of goblin shield bearers. But Misty’s missile strikes true, showering the middle lizard in a burst of burning liquid, causing it to pause and shake, rolling around in the mud to extinguish the flames while its brothers hiss in outrage at the damage done to their fellow monster.

Andraya has already fired her handbow at the skeleton and missed. She’s now readying a spell of some kind, blessing another bolt as she loads it into her weapon.

So what’s my move? I feel myself begin to hesitate, but some kind of mental influence pulls me away from the familiar embrace of my old friend procrastination. And so I literally leap into action, vaulting over the shield wall and launching myself in a flying attack at the skeleton bearing lizard.

"Llampsi!" I cry as I land, my one special trick. It’s effective as hell, the flare illuminating the fog with a burst of intense light that staggers the enemies in front of me. My sword comes down hard on the dazed river lizard’s head, cutting through skin and muscle before connecting with its hard skull with a jarring thud. The impact knocks me off balance, and the lizard counteracts with a tail whip to my left, which I manage to dodge just in time.

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This is exhilarating! I have skills! I’m attacking and dodging, leaping and hurling spells like a motherfucker. I swear I’ve never had this much adrenaline pumping around my body before. Is that what it feels like to bungee jump, to free fall from a plane? It’s bloody great.

I swing my sword back, readying a strike to unseat the skeleton, but before I can attack, the undead cracks his staff down hard on my head. It’s red hot, and I feel it singe my hair and blister my scalp, an intense burning pain that overwhelms me for a split second. I crunch my eyes shut and cry out.

Then I’m on my back, knocked over by a swipe of the lizard’s bleeding head. I’m down on the ground, in the swirling mist and the mud, and I try and roll out of the way as the beast’s great foot comes down on my chest but I’m not quick enough. Its foot is on me, pressing down, crushing my rib cage, pushing me into the soft ground. I remember a doctor telling me that having a heart attack can feel like an elephant sitting on your chest. I’m guessing that would be a similar sensation to this. If I survive, I vow to cut down on my cholesterol.

There’s so much adrenaline juicing around in my veins that I don’t panic, but I do wonder, as the river lizard crushes me into the mud, if this is the end. Mere seconds ago I felt like a conquering hero, a warrior. Now I’m here, dirt beneath a monster’s foot.

I hear a battle cry, muffled by the marsh soil in my ears, and now green hands are grabbing me. The monster lifts its foot as a wave of goblins charge at it and I’m pulled free, sliding through the mud until I’m yanked upright by the greenskin in the colander helmet. I shake my head, shaking out the stars in my eyes and then grab my sword, pull it from the sucking wet ground and prepare to attack again.

The skeleton mage shrieks another spell and this time, it’s a powerful gust of wind that topples us all back down, ears ringing. I watch as his lizard mount grabs a prone goblin in its jaws and starts munching and I race at it. I make a surgical strike, thrusting with the tip of my Ishkurian Blade and my aim is true, skewering the monster's eye. I keep pushing, shoving the sword through the jelly, further and further until the beast gasps and slumps down, its legs splaying out under its body like a broken table. Its jaws are still clamped on the poor goblin, and I drop my sword and try to pry open its maw but its no use. The greenskin is dead.

Over on my right, the other river lizards have been taken down by Misty and the archers. The beasts are charred and pricked with arrows, and none of them are moving.

Which leaves the bony mage. It's been unseated, but it's still defiant, felling goblins with wide sweeps of its staff. As it knocks back its attackers, it lifts its weapon high again, preparing another spell. I rush at it, sword drawn, but before I get to it, a bolt from Andraya’s handbow strikes it in the chest. It interrupts the spell, giving me an opening for another surgical strike. This time, I try and decapitate the rotting wanker, but I miss entirely as it steps back to avoid my swipe.

My goblin allies waste no time in pressing the attack. Colander’s stone arm comes flying over my head, knocking the mage in the shoulder. Then a goblin with sword and shield leaps in and hacks at the skeleton's head, landing a solid strike that chips off part of its skull. More goblins rush in, disarming the mage. It raises its bony arms to protect itself from a flurry of goblin blades as the greenskins fall upon it. They hack at it furiously, swarming it, striking it down until it lies still in the mud.

The red lights in the mage’s eye sockets fade and are gone, leaving two shadowy hollows in its skull.

It’s over.

We’ve won.

----------------------------------------

We’re gathered in the Goose and Crow, which is Orvar’s pub. The injured are being bandaged here, and heavy minds are being soothed with tankards of beer. The mood is one of relief rather than jubilation. Two of the townfolk perished in the battle, so no one seems to feel like celebrating. We drink to the memory and the bravery of those who died defending their home, as their families weep softly around us.

That isn’t to say that the goblins aren’t grateful for our assistance. We’ve had more thanks than we can handle, and the table we sit at bows under the weight of drinks bought for us. We’re not sure where to hand in our quest, but now doesn’t seem like the right time to ask one of our sombre hosts about it.

“I got this for you,” says Misty, handing me a green bottle. It looks like a healing potion. “I didn’t have any spells left to make it myself, but Grena over there seems like a skilled herbalist. It’s good stuff - I can tell by the smell.”

“Ah, magic. Thanks Misty.” I drink it down and feel it instantly soothe my aches and pains.

“It won’t do anything to help your hair though. You’re stuck with that… er… unique style until it grows back.”

“Shit.” I tap the top of my head. There’s a runway of scalp down the middle, from where the skeleton burned my hair away with his fiery staff.

“I think it suits you,” says Andraya with a smile.

“Really?”

“No of course not you pillock! You look ridiculous. We’ll have to find you a decent hat.”

“I could always curl up on top it,” Veppi says, “keep that bit warm for you.”

I can’t tell if he’s joking.

Drifandi approaches our table. He’s carrying a sheaf of bolts which he gives to Andraya.

“These are truebolts Peahen,” he says. “I wouldn’t normally trust the likes of you not to send them back at the likes of us. But you’ve proven your kindness to goblinkind, and so take them with my thanks.”

Andraya nods. “Most generous Master Goblin. Our patrons may feud somewhere up there in the heavens, but that doesn’t mean that we have to.”

“Aye, not always. I have this, for you gracious brewitch.”

He hands Mistle a brooch, shaped like a blue flower.

Misty takes it, but frowns as she holds it. She hesitates to pin it to her shirt.

“You’re wise to pause,” Drifandi says. “Came from the bone mage we felled. It was glowing for a while, but now it’s still. Thought it might tell you something about who it was, and why it attacked us.”

As he says the words, our thys vibrate. I bring up the screen to reveal another quest.

Quest: The Blue Flower Brooch

Taken from a defeated skeleton arch mage, the blue flower brooch warrants further investigation. Discover who gave it to the mage.

Reward: XP 1,000

Accept: YES/NO

“Seeing you with your bracelets there reminds me,” Drifandi says, “that you took another quest in my house. I can accept delivery of that for you.”

“Most kind of you,” says Andraya.

We deliver the quest to Drifandi and I get that XP feeling, but this time it keeps building. It’s a surge of sensation that washes over my entire body and suddenly, I’m glowing. I'm actually bloody glowing! I hold out my arms and my hands in front of me, and stare in wonder at the blue light which envelops my skin for a few seconds, before fading away with the tingles.

“What the shit just happened to me?”

“Congrats Doon,” says Misty, holding out her tankard of beer in a toast. “You leveled up.”