Installment 46 [https://squirrel.dogphilosophy.net/Installment046.png]

Bote jogged to catch up. "The length of one's legs has greater influence on one's life than some appreciate," they said as they arrived. Having seen Al and Gruntle ready themselves for a fight, Bote did the same, hefting his hammer.

"What are we fighting?" the dwarf asked, looking towards the brush along the side of the road that seemed to have his companions' attention.

"Gruntle says someone's following us," Al answered. He squinted, trying unsuccessfully to see who or what might be out there.

Gruntle's ears twitched. "More than one," he grumbled.

"What are they?"

"Small," was all the answer Al got from Gruntle.

"Well, whoever or whatever they are, don't attack them unless they attack us."

Gruntle huffed, then after a pause he reluctantly grunted assent.

A high-pitched cackle erupted from the bushes just past them up the road. Al scowled and braced for a fight when he saw the small green-skinned person leap out and run in their direction, still cackling. The wild-eyed creature was clad in protective black leather that looked out of place on a goblin - it looked almost like a uniform in contrast to the cobbled-together mess Al expected goblins to wear. Its small curved sword looked well-polished and sharpened. Al also noticed it was still hanging at the goblin's belt.

"It's not attacking, watch out for others!" Al called out to Gruntle and Bote as he backed away and glanced sideways towards the bushes where it had come from. Several more green-skinned, black-clad figures were quietly emerging there. The one that had run at them veered away from Al and past Gruntle, just out of reach, and dove into the bushes on the other side of the road.

Al couldn't understand what the goblins were yelling but it sounded insulting. Sling-bullets flew, and Al reflexively conjured a protective barrier in time to deflect one aimed at him. Bote was not quite so quick and caught a painful-looking shot off his bicep. Gruntle didn't even move as a third heavy lump bounced off of his upper chest. Before any of them could retaliate, the goblins dove back out of sight into the bushes.

Try that again. Go on. Try it again. I'll kill you. Al thought to himself, keeping his attention on the bushes. Behind him, he heard the first of the goblins re-emerge and the sound of a sword leaving its sheathe at the same time. It ran wildly, waving its sword and changing direction frequently, once again cackling maliciously. Gruntle's flail came down as the goblin dodged past him but the creature jumped aside in time to get out of the way without slowing down. Al ignored it, watching the bushes as the one that had just run between them dove into them. The moment Al had been waiting for arrived when the slingers emerged in unison from the bushes again to launch another volley at them. Not even noticing his own triumphant, vengeful grin, he summoned up the three arrows of magical force. It took some concentration, but he directed each of them to a different one of the attackers and each struck directly into the goblins' chests. Angry cries of pain came from each of them, but they still each launched another sling-bullet at them. This time, Gruntle's shield came up in time to block the one aimed at him, and Bote stepped out of the way, but Al was struck in the upper chest just below his left shoulder. Shouting to each other in whatever crazy language goblins spoke, they all then disappeared back into the bushes and could be heard moving away as Al started to step towards them.

"You'd better run!" Al shouted at them as he lunged forward to chase after them. Seeing this, Gruntle gave an enthusiastic barking laugh and sprinted after them as well. He charged into the foliage at the forest's edge where the goblins had disappeared. Al was right behind him with visions of disproportionate vengeance upon the goblins on his mind. He stopped when Bote's voice somehow whispered in his ear.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"Which Al runs recklessly into a possible ambush?" the voice asked.

Wait...what am I doing? This is crazy., Al thought to himself. He halted and shouted ahead. "Gruntle! Come back!"

Then, he turned back to see Bote pointing in his direction and wearing a concerned expression.

"There's only and ever the Al to whom you are speaking, right? Whatever that means," Al told them.

"Oh, there you are," Bote replied and appeared to relax a little. "We have only traveled together for a few weeks, but is it possible a new Al is among us since we set out?"

"What, did you think I'd been replaced by an imposter or something?" Al asked. Deeper in the woods, the sound of Gruntle crashing through the vegetation could be heard. Then there was a sound like someone bouncing a stone off of a stump, followed immediately by a snarl of anger and scattered malicious giggling.

"Gruntle! It's a trap! Come back!" Al shouted in that direction. A blend of a whine and a growl came back to Al's ears as the sound of cackling faded off into the distance. He returned to his discussion with Bote.

"No, not an imposter," Bote answered Al's previous question, "but perhaps some additional Al is developing."

"Well, Wikwocket said this kind of experience does change people," Al said as Gruntle emerged from the trees with his face locked in a sullen snarl. He actually paused to bite deeply into the trunk of a birch tree as he passed. While the innocent tree was savaged, Al went to pick up the projectiles the goblins had slung at them. They were roughly egg-shaped lumps of lead, with markings on them that turned out to be engraved writing. Instead of whatever strange language the goblins used, they were marked sloppily in the common language. CATCH, one bore. Others were engraved with DUCK, EAT THIS, or OUCH. Al grumbled curses at the malicious little creatures as he rubbed at the painful spot where one had hit him. Nothing felt broken, but it was sure to bruise nastily.

"Come on, we need to catch up and make sure she's okay," Al continued after giving Gruntle a few seconds to take his frustrations out on the tree.

They continued down the road at a jog. It didn't take long before they spotted Wikwocket on foot, jogging towards them along the road. Some distance behind her, Haunch was still pulling the cart at a slow, reluctant pace. The donkey sped up and caught up to Wikwocket once he saw the others approaching.

"I told you it was fine!" Wikwocket chided the donkey, who slowed down again to match her pace but otherwise paid no more attention than any other donkey would. "Any idea what might have scared him like that?"

"Goblin ambush! Accursed little cowards harassed and threatened us, then ran off as soon as we threatened them back," Al explained, a flash of anger evident in his voice for a moment. "We were worried they might be chasing you, too. What?"

That last word had been directed to Bote, who Al noticed seemed to be watching him closely.

"I do not recall that there was such an angry Al the first time we were ambushed by goblins," Bote commented, looking into Al's eyes. "Where does this new anger come from?"

Al looked back in disbelief, since to him the answer was obvious and the question absurd.

"They...they attacked us. Stalked us, toyed with us, threatened us, laughing the whole time. Isn't it natural for me to feel like they're a danger to my party that needs to be eliminated, or at least taught that they can't get away with it?"

Gruntle grunted in agreement, drawing an unconscious nod to him from Al as if to say see, Gruntle understands. Bote gave a nod of their own and grinned.

"Yes, I suppose it is. I believe I understand the nature of this Al well enough now," Bote said with satisfaction.

"Has anybody ever mentioned that you talk funny sometimes?" Wikwocket asked them.

"Yes. Some of them were even me," Bote replied. Wikwocket laughed. Al tried to get the discussion back to the topic at hand.

"So, you didn't run into any problems, or notice anything trying to chase you?" he asked Wikwocket. She shook her head.

"Aside from Haunch freaking out and running off for no apparent reason, no. He pulled me along for several minutes, I'm amazed I managed to keep everything from falling off of the cart. He finally slowed down and stopped, and just stood there looking back the way we came. I tried to get him to turn around and go back but he didn't want to. When I finally gave up and started walking back by myself, he followed me, though. I was afraid he might try to run off, but he just stayed behind me. Maybe he didn't want to be left alone."

"At least they don't seem to have chased you then. Gruntle, which way were they headed when you were following them in the woods?" Al asked. Gruntle pointed.

"That'd take them not too far from passing by Wulfcynn Keep, wouldn't it? Maybe we should go warn the baron that there are goblins prowling in the area."

"I'm sure his majesty can take care of himself," Wikwocket suggested with clear dislike.

"Majesty is normally reserved for the current monarch," Al pointed out.

"His Supreme Baronitude then. Whatever he is, I say let him deal with it, I don't want to go back there."

"Wow, you really do hate him, don't you."

"He's such a phony!" Wikwocket nearly yelled, which seemed to startle the donkey into braying. "And besides, I don't think Haunch wants to pull the cart any closer that way, either."

"It just doesn't seem right not to at least say something. It's not as though we have to go far, we only just passed the turn a little way back," argued Al.

"We only know of one way into Wulfcynn Keep, aside from the single window. It is probably reasonably secure against casual harassment. Still, it would probably be polite to inform them," agreed Bote.

"Well, you two can go tell him then, I'll wait here and protect Haunch from danger," insisted Wikwocket, drawing her trusty rapier and striking a dramatic pose.

"What if the goblins come back again?" Al objected, but relented when he saw Gruntle's hopeful, malicious grin at his question. Gruntle snarled quietly as he reached up to rub a small, slightly-bleeding lump on the side of his head.

"All right," Al sighed, "Gruntle, you can wait here with Wikwocket in case they come back. Bote and I can get up to the keep to check on them and then come back, this shouldn't take long. Just...be careful. None of the stories have good things to say about splitting the party."