Euness succumbed to Dwindle's aggressive arguments and pestering and allowed Red to procure the goblin quest, under the condition that Dwindle tag along, which the dwarf was more than happy to do.
Dwindle shadowed Red during the time leading up to their quest, wary that potential misfortune may befall the champ. Dwarves always kept a careful eye on their investments. In this scenario, Dwindle had invested both time and energy in order to right the wrongs of a champion being given the meager rank of Base Level 1 Hunter, as well as benefiting from receiving some of the reward for quest completion.
Mas may not have any need to take on perilous quests for coin, but Dwindle did.
Red had his expenses for food and board paid for by the dwarf, for which he felt immense gratitude. However, Dwindle wouldn't allow Red to thank him, telling Red that it all would be deducted from the quest reward. Since the young champ no longer had any food or housing troubles or understood what Dwindle was talking about, he simply accepted the terms.
Before long, the time had come to challenge the quest.
The odd duo, one tall young man along with a much shorter red-nosed dwarf, waited outside the eastern gate of the city for their ride to come along and haul them off to their quest location.
"By the way, Dwindle, where are we going?" Red asked, realizing he knew little about the quest other than it had something to do with goblins.
“Somewhere between,” Dwindle said, pulling a map from one of the many pouches connected to his belt, “Gruitch Village and the Fruitless Forest. Goblins in the hills the quest says, nasty sort of goblin. Bigger than the green sods you find in caves.”
Red nodded, oblivious to all the new terms he couldn't comprehend.
Dwindle eyed him for a moment before he said, “Red, its ok to not understand things that I say. Just beat up the baddies and we’ll be as solid as rock.”
Red nodded more enthusiastically to that. He understood everything that time.
Just beat them up, he thought with a resolute nod.
“And by the way,” Dwindle said, meaning to broach the subject since they met up for breakfast earlier, “Is that all you’re going to wear for our quest?”
Dwarves did not intrude into anyone's personal affairs because doing so would mix the personal with the business, which they considered a bad recipe. Even a simple thing like asking about one’s wardrobe seemed intrusive except when it came to extreme circumstances, of which Dwindle saw Red’s wardrobe as an example of.
Red stood tall and loomed in Dwindles' eyes. The young man's wardrobe, however, seemed peculiar. Red only came out with a pair of cloth shorts tightly bound by a rope and leather straps that wrapped around his hands and feet.
"This is how I fought in the gypsy brawls," Red explained. He gave it some more consideration before saying, "I feel like it's kind of my uniform."
His dwarf companion nodded slowly, becoming more thoughtful.
Dwarves loved uniforms. It appeared professional and dapper to them. Dwindle himself had gotten his clothes and leather armor dyed to match the colors of the Hunter’s Guild: black and gold. He also appeared to have brought along every survival tool available to a hunter.
The belt of pouches and packs wrapping around the dwarf’s waist had: maps, potions, a pickaxe, a small shovel, a compass, and various herbs that are used in healing, along with cures for various ailments such as poison and scurvy. His pack carried extra equipment besides that, some lifesaving treasures, and other things needed to start a fire, as well as an emergency scroll to call for help from nearby hunters or passersby.
This particular dwarf, Dwindle, believed in preparation and caution, while his companion this time around hadn’t thought of anything.
“I appreciate your dedication to your craft, champ. We won't be in need of anything during our trip. I have attached to my persons many items for many a scenario,” Dwindle assured Red as he patted his belt.
The champ, who was starting to feel cold without a shirt on, nodded in appreciation.
The wagon arrived, driven by another dwarf who was Dwindle's acquaintance and had agreed to transport them in his personal wagon. The dwarven driver was much older than Dwindle, with big, bushy brows that hid his beady eyes and much of the sagging bags beneath them. The old dwarf grinned at the tall young man boarding alongside Dwindle and handed Red some dwarven snacks to munch on as they traveled. Red eagerly took them and sat inside the wagon as comfortable as a dog by the fireside, nibbling on the sweets.
One and a half days they spent on the road before finally arriving at their destination.
The trio only had to camp once before commencing with travel. Dwindle had to continually snatch away the reins away from the old dwarf because he kept dozing off. Dwindle would often mutter during such times regrets of choosing cheap transportation over sage symbol powered wagons, risking their lives to save a few coins.
They arrived at their destination at noon, with the sun high in the sky. Hot weather they trekked through and hotter still as they climbed up and down over hills. However, nature showed mercy outside the weather, granting them safe passage without meeting a single terrible predator.
Red found himself enjoying his time out immensely. Never had he been so far from home. He soaked in as much as he could.
Going up along one of the many hills, strange grunts and chants halted their progress midway.
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Dwindle put away a compass he'd been using for guidance, and stuck out his stubby hand towards Red, signaling the young man to pause. Red became still, his heart pumping in anticipation for a fight. As the days went by without Red engaging in combat, the boxer in him started to become more eager to throw down.
Now, the boxer’s competitive spirit burned bright with potential opponents on the way.
Dwindle's squat body shimmied up the hill like a ladybug crawling up a plant stem, getting to the hilltop and peeking over it. Nearby, a group of humanoid purple-skinned figures shuffled and chanted to the rhythm of an animal hide drum that one of the monsters banged upon. The tops of their heads had spots of hair but not much, like diseased victims. Their eyes were yellow and seemed to have a film of slime atop them. Their mouths were sparsely populated with teeth, yet each one was razor-sharp, the true sign of carnivores. Straw skirts on their waists swished back and forth as they swayed to the drumbeat.
Red watched a stout, tiny hand wave him forward, gesturing to come up and join the dwarf. At the top of the hill, Red peered across the sunlit valley to find the dancing purple monsters.
Laughter emerged in him, but quelled his amusment enough to ask, “Why are they so small?”
Dwindle tsked at him before he replied, “Stay focused, champ. These guys may only be my height, but they have the agility of demons.”
The boxer in Red forced him to become serious as he asked, “What’s the game plan? How can I fight these guys?”
Dwindle stroked his beardless chin before answering, “Goblins are known cowards, unwilling to fight without reinforcements. Do you see the clubs they are carrying?”
“Yes.”
“They attack in wide swings, either up and down or side to side. Numbers is their main strength and deceit a close second. When one attacks, you can bet another is sneaking up behind you.”
Red felt fear but the boxer made him stay focused on Dwindle’s words. He spoke with determination, “Just tell me what to do, Dwindle.”
“We'll go about it this way…” Dwindle started, explaining a plan simple enough for Red to follow.
The drumming seized the hill goblins' minds, rendering each of them more erratic and clumsy. Their more ferocious side was revealed by the drums' raw sound. Before they could revel in their wild passions for long, the clicking sound of a mechanical mechanism entered their pointy ears and the drumming suddenly stopped.
The hill goblins almost tripped over themselves at the loss of their music and turned to find the drummer lying in a pool of blood with a crossbow bolt sticking out of his back. Their yellow eyes peered upward to a nearby hill and saw a creature the size of themselves sitting at the top, holding a crossbow.
Rage erupted within their bony exteriors, and they began to charge for the hill.
Dwindle’s adrenaline was pumping, his mind racing.
Never considered himself a marksman and it took more than his all to land that shot. With the drumming goblin, the creature moved considerably slower than the others, allowing Dwindle to shoot it accurately. The dwarf stared down the hill at the charging enemies, their movements like wet cats now, making his aim shaky.
With another click of his crossbow's trigger, a bolt sped through the air, only to miss his target. Once more, Dwindle tried, loading and shooting his weapon, only to graze a single goblin's cheek for his efforts.
Damn, time for the second phase, Dwindle thought as he moved out of sight from the top of the hill.
The goblins swarmed up the side of the hill, climbing with speed, snarling as saliva dripped from their mouths. Their goblin senses detect dwarf flesh, but a human stench also lingered in the air. Regardless, they climbed ever onward, craving to tear into any creature they happened upon.
As the first goblin reached the crest of the hill, a leather wrapped fist hit it square in the face, flattening its nose against its purple face. The goblin immediately went into a coma, its skull unable to keep intact from the impact of a trained boxer who knew how to throw the most optimized version of a punch.
The goblins screeched at the sight of one of their own falling listlessly down the hill. Bloodlust grew among them, making them faster and more savage.
Two of the creatures moved over the edge of the hill as three others were close behind. At the sight of two of the goblins appearing, Red moved immediately to one of them using the peek-a-boo style to rock his body back and forth, generating power with the sway of his body.
Goblins didn’t have the intelligence to follow rhythms in order to time movement for a perfect strike. Such creatures typically swung their weapons without putting much thought into aiming.
The goblin being targeted swung its wooden club exactly as Dwindle had warned Red.
The attack was a simple swing from up to down like a hammer coming down on a nail. The attack completely missed and with the power Red was generating on a sway, coming out the pendulum motion of his upper body, put it all behind a hook against the goblin’s jaw. The hook completely took the squat goblin off its feet, killing it at the same time.
The other goblin joined in at that moment, already flanking Red just as Dwindle said the goblins would try to do.
Red moved out of his peek-a-boo style and became light on his feet, jumping in steady rhythm on the tips of his toes like a dancer. The goblin slunk away at having been noticed, unwilling to engage in a fair fight, waiting on its brethren to implement dishonest tactics.
The brawling champion wouldn't let the creature have its way.
Red dashed forward and threw a feint, creating a shadow of an attack. The goblin fell for it, swinging with all its might at the air, granting Red an opening to throw a straight at its head, crumpling it to the floor like a puppet with its strings cut.
Three goblins pushed themselves up onto the cliff, their purple faces contorted into scowls. Red soon found himself surrounded by them.
Red threw another feint that the goblin in front of him swung at, tipping it off balance, but it wasn't Red's target. The two goblins at his back moved as soon as they saw their brethren’s strike, unaware that Red hadn’t engaged or exchanged moves yet. The two flankers brought down their clubs onto air as Red moved easily away from them.
A stiff jab hit one of the two, sending the hit goblin tumbling into the dirt due to being off balanced, but it was still conscious.
The other launched an attack of its own, but Red just shifted his upper body to avoid the blow. He then came back with his leading hand's palm, snatching the creature's head, repositioned and switched places with it. The first of the trio of goblins to fall for the feint had climbed back to its feet and swung its club at Red, only to instead strike the repositioned goblin.
The mistaken goblin stood there for a split second, unsure of why it hit its on kin, but its slight pause was long enough for a fist to land on its jaw, fully taking off the bottom half of its face. It fell violently to the ground, blood dripping from its mangled mouth.
The goblin hit by a jab decided to flee as soon as it saw Red's punch mutilate one of its kind. Its small purple feet pumped up and down as it dashed away from the battle, its grass skirt blowing like a flag of surrender in the wind. It managed to get to the edge of the hill, where it slowed down in order to descend. But as soon as it peeked over the edge of the hill, its head was pierced through with a crossbow bolt. The red-nosed dwarf had been waiting for any goblins that would retreat with his crossbow at the ready.
After the final goblin was dispatched, Dwindle let out a delighted whoop.
He hadn't expected a subjugation quest to go as smoothly and quickly as it did, especially since one of their two-man team came unarmed and only wearing a pair of shorts.
The dwarf climbed up the hill to celebrate with Red, but he came to a halt when he noticed a figure approaching Red from behind. The young man was just starting to put his arm in the sky, gesturing victory, when a club hit him in the back of the head.
He fell stiff onto the grass.