Previously Rowan only had a vague understanding of what a rift creature was. The hope was that he’d never have to face a ghoulish monster from another realm with forces and powers beyond what his home universe deemed physically possible. He’d heard descriptions of such creatures from the rare cases of people who saw them and lived, but words can only convey so much.

Rowan didn’t know the fear that filled your soul when you saw one. He never wrapped his head around the mind bending nature of their physical form that seemed to defy the laws of physics with every movement. He never would have guessed the horrible stench they emitted like rotten eggs, or the ear piercing shrieking ring that rang through his head.

The spider rose its two front legs like scythes ready to swipe him. Then it continued to rise, revealing its armored belly that flashed purple other-worldly light and smoke. It rose until it was balanced on only two legs, and seemed to stretch to an impossible imposing size. Rowan was sure he was about to die.

Then the creature shrank away again. A gash in space appeared behind it, and it shrank away, disappearing as if through a portal in reality. A jagged gash of light purple remaining in the middle of the forest, then sealed up again.

Once Rowan’s eyes adjusted to the dim natural light of the moon, he saw Zillia standing before him, clutching a gold jeweled pendant.

They stared at each other in silence for a moment. Rowan thought the goblin had abandoned him, but she had once again come to his rescue. He assumed that jewel she carried was the ward she mentioned. It was good to have something that could fend off those rift creatures. Rowan was sure he would have died otherwise.

“You came back. I thought you were chasing the kobolds,”

“Call it a tactical retreat.”

Rowan was surprised Zillia admitted she backed down from a fight. She always showed a very strong will. But she admitted her retreat plainly, without shame.

“Where’s Scrumble?”

“Who?”

Rowan had assumed the goblin craftsman had caught up with Zillia. But apparently not. He now assumed that the little guy had gone into battle alone and gotten himself in trouble again.

Rowan asked a different question, “How many are there? What made you retreat?”

“I’ve found their base of operations. They’ve taken over the fortress at Gleenix.”

Gleenix was a goblin built fortress that was taken by humans during the war, but then abandoned. Goblins never knew the fortress was left unguarded, but even if they did, it’s hard to tell if they would have sent troops to reclaim it, with their resources so thin. It seemed that in the absence of any proper military residence, kobolds took it over.

Of course Rowan was still in the dark on all this. Being a mere peasant farmer during the war, he wasn’t up to date on every battle and military movement. But he was daunted by the idea of tackling a fortress guarded by kobolds.

It was now quite late at night, “What can we do?” Rowan asked.

“For now, nothing. We go home and rest. We’ll come back tomorrow prepared.”

Rowan wasn’t sure how he could sleep at night knowing an army of kobolds was kidnapping goblins, allies or not. He no longer felt safe at his farm knowing an army of kobolds was an hour’s walk away. But it was true that nothing could be done at this time of night. It was a hard thing to admit.

Zillia led Rowan back to the inn and stayed in a room herself since it was too late to make the journey back to the mansion.

“Goodnight,” Zillia stood in the doorway across from Rowan’s room. The room of course was no longer occupied by the kidnapped goblin.

Rowan wanted to say something to express his great gratitude. Zillia had saved him time after time, even if she had been a little prickly at times. But he didn’t know how to say it. “Goodnight.”

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**

“Get up lazy human.”

Zillia was back to her combative self as she woke him at an early hour of the morning. “I thought farmers were used to waking up early.”

Rowan blinked. He felt like no time had passed since he first put his head on the pillow. He tossed and turned unable to fall asleep, and then suddenly he was jolted awake without feeling like any resting occurred.

Rowan pulled himself together and met Zillia outside once he was ready. “So we attack the fortress today?

Zillia looked at him like he was crazy. “We can’t take that down alone. I’m bringing the message to my father. We’ll put together a goblin squadron to reclaim it. This is a serious military operation. It’s not something we should face alone.”

This all sounded logical to Rowan. But as Zillia rode off, he became quite worried about returning to his farm alone.

—Day 4—

The entire walk back to his farm Rowan felt the need to look over his shoulder. The only enemies around him were little slimes and bugs of a size he’d gotten used to. But he kept feeling like something horrible could come out and attack him at any moment.

In the past few days he’d seen a dragon soul of Aggremar in the shape of a human, along with a monstrous gargoyle and giant badger. He’d seen a nature defying creature from another realm. He’d been attacked by a wolf that only neglected to damage him because it was called off by a ranger whose feelings for him were neutral at best. He’d been nearly killed by a plant just for digging it up. While he’d gotten stronger since he got here, Rowan didn’t feel prepared to fight even a kobold. He’d fought one yes. A weak one when it was alone. If he was ganged up on he didn’t fancy his chances. Every step he took he had to question. He didn’t feel safe anywhere.

Rowan wanted to do something to gain his confidence back. He knocked out a slime in a single shot. That brought his spirits up a bit. After he finished planting what he could, he slashed a worm to shreds. Not bad.

It was when he attacked a giant beetle that disaster struck. He knew from experience that these creatures were a little tougher, and took two hits to defeat. But he knew he wouldn’t take too much damage in return. Unfortunately, his shoddy wooden sword broke after the first attack.

Crap. He forgot that could happen. The beetle attacked him. Rowan used his fists, trying to deal a little more damage to finish the creature off, but his attack was ineffective and he was forced to endure another hit. Finally Rowan smacked the bug in the face with a tomato to finish it off. It was a move of desperation, but it worked.

Rowan was concerned about wasting his precious crops as single use battle items, but he needed to do so in tight situations like this. He couldn’t believe his bare hands were less effective than a tomato, but that was the world he was living in.

Rowan made his way to Scrumble’s tool shed. The little guy had been kidnapped again, but at least his tools were here. Rowan thought about how little gratitude the goblin expressed for being saved, and he wondered if he was worth saving a second time. But Rowan shook his head at the selfish thought and knew that of course he would save him given the chance. He just wasn’t strong enough yet.

Rowan tried to get a handle around the goblin’s crafting tools. He thought he might figure something out. There were tiny chisels, saws, hammers, and various other little gadgets. On the walls were drawn little diagrams of some of the basic tools the goblin had made for him. The handwriting was erratic, and didn’t resemble human or goblin language. But Rowan decided he could figure something out. In fact the goblin’s workmanship was so sloppy Rowan wasn’t sure he couldn’t top it.

Knowing that he’d feel much safer with a sword in hand, Rowan started by trying to craft one of those. He slapped down a log of wood from his collection and started by scraping off all the bark. He shaved away until he got something vaguely sword shaped, and kept cutting through the wood until he got a blocky staff of some kind. He knew he wasn’t done yet, so he sharpened the tip until he was satisfied. What he came up with, he had to admit, was not going to be as effective as what the goblin could make. But it was the best he could do at the moment. This was a new craft for him, and he had to settle for being bad at it. Even if what he came up with was more like a tiny spear than a sword, it was a start.

Rowan swung his creation a few times, testing it out. The weapon would be serviceable. He felt a little more confident, but was still worried that even the slightest threat would spell disaster for him.

After checking his tools, he noticed his hoe was close to cracking. It would work for a little longer, but he knew it would be worthwhile to make a spare. A hoe was a much easier tool to make, and needed much less nuance in design. All he needed was a stick with a flat blade at the end. He had no problem making one.

It was back to the normal pattern of activity. It was a little harder than usual since Rowan hadn't gotten a good night's sleep, but took the usual walk to the stream to collect water to help his plants grow. He then decided to check the farm's newest feature: the composting box.

Rowan thought about Scrumble chuckling and giving a vague implication that a surprise was imminent. But it was possible the goblin was messing with him. At any rate, he was not around to see the opening of the composting box. Scrumble of course had greater things to worry about being kidnapped by kobolds. But still he would be disappointed to miss the reaction Rowan had when he opened the box.