Calion was recounting a story of his youth to the gremlins. It's something about cheating students or some nonsense. Daggat was not paying attention. Instead, he and his assistant were pouring over the notes, books, and letters he had managed to scrounge from Calion’s home. It had already taken over three thousand pages! Each page of notes would only hold three hundred or so words. Maybe eight thousand pages of notes wasn’t as big as he thought.

Daggat discovered something interesting while looking through the information. You can find nuggets of useful knowledge in even the most boring of notes. Of the books Calion had on hand, a few were copies of legal documents, almanacs, and maps. The maps were old, likely outdated, but depicted Elderveil, the large forest of ancient trees in which they lived. Most of the towns marked are on the coast, to the west. Fountwich, Brinehaven, and Wavecrest were noted as settlements. To the south, at the very border of the forest, was Vocaunt. It seemed to be a large city. Lines that Daggat assumed represented roads connected these four settlements.

Large areas of the forests were marked as hunting grounds owned by the local lords, lumber sites, and dangerous monster territories. This map was indeed old since it made no mention of his, or rather his old, tribe.

What caught his eye, however, was in the almanacs. Calion had dozens. They contained information on the stars, weather, expected crop yields, and the like. Daggat deleted these to save room. But, whoever published these almanacs also used them to share important news. The deaths of nobles, new marriages, upcoming festivals, and the like.

Daggat only skimmed these, but one article caught his eye.

CONDEMNED: Titanfell manor condemned due to plague.

This article was written over 40 years ago. If the manor was still there… perhaps the plague was not. That could be a solid place to claim as their own, once it warmed up. Calion was alright, for a human, but Daggat refused to be stuck here. The manor was owned by a knight, sir Varnsach.

He quickly moved back to the map and found land marked as varnish lumber. He put a red X on that land, using his notes' various tools. Somewhere in that land, was the manor. It was probably in bad shape, but hey, beggars can’t be choosers.

The squawking of chickens broke the silence of the night. Calion stopped his story.

“Hmm… we insulated the coop, right?” The coop was attached to the back of the cottage. A small door led into a storage room where the chickens could be brought inside during the winter. It was cleared out of anything the chickens could get into, and the door was open, allowing the chickens to come and go as they pleased. The coop itself was insulated and closed off, keeping them warm. The pigs were slaughtered recently, something Klaw was excited to help with. “Did a fox get in?”

“I’ll go check!” Klaw leaped up, thankful to have an excuse to leave. He looked like he was about to fall asleep earlier. Calion nodded, and Klaw ran off.

A minute later, Zuss dropped from her perch atop a shelf. Wide-eyed, she pointed outside with a shaky finger. “Fire!”

“What?” The windows were shut. The panes were a thick glass hard to see through, but the orange flickering glow of fire was visible through them. “What’s burning out there? It’s snowing!”

Calion dashed to the door faster than he had moved before. He grabbed the nearest object he could use as a weapon, a broom, and threw the door wide open. Birdy sprinted out of the door.

Suddenly, cackles drifted from outside. Like ants, small creatures were scurrying over the garden, taking anything they could find. The storage shed, which mostly held firewood, was burning. Lines of fire crisscrossed the garden, warming and lighting the creatures.

“Gremlins! Goblins!” Calion shouted. “Begone from my land!” There was a chorus of cackling in reply. Attacking this far from home in winter? Were they mad? No, just desperate. When Daggat left, they were running low on food. It had to be worse now. Calion’s cottage was a wealth of tasty treasures, so it would be a prime candidate for goblin raiding.

Dozens of gremlins, each carrying crude daggers and a wicked grin were hard at work tearing down and destroying Calion’s work. The old man was furious. He shook, barely contained rage. Among the gremlins, goblins directed them. Three goblins.

One was fat, almost spherical. His jowls jostled as he laughed. He held a sharpened pitchfork. Another was muscular and had hands twice the size of a normal goblins. A red scarf wrapped around his neck, but he was shirtless. He was punching a fence post. With each strike, it splintered.

The last… was familiar. It stood a head taller than the other goblins. In one hand was a short sword that had a pure white blade. A finer weapon than any goblin should have. It also wore crude armor. Gobma. Daggat hadn’t remembered Gobma being so fearsome before. He must have begged for a weapon and armor, or perhaps he had simply never worn it in Daggat’s presence.

“Get back, Daggat, Zuss. We’re being atta-” There was the unmistakable sound of Klaw’s roar, a battle cry, then an explosion from the chicken coop shook the cottage.

“KLAW!” Zuss screamed. She slipped through Calion’s legs and dashed out into the night. Daggat cursed. Foolish girl! They needed to stick together in times like these. The gremlins made a habit of keeping their potions in their pockets, so they at least had that to rely on.

Several gremlins tittered with delight as they rushed the venerable, old human. Calion lifted his broom and swept. The force of the wind carried the oncoming gremlins into the air and the dark. They screamed as they fell.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

More gremlins attacked and Calion simply swept them away again. Daggat took back everything he said about the old man’s focus on chores. This was next-level sweeping!

Calion raised a hand and said, “Grow! Seize!”. Apparently, he was just as skilled at gardening. The plants, what remained at least, moved of their own accord. They grew larger. Roots ripped from the ground like twine. The gremlins, a good chunk of them at least, were bound. It wouldn’t work on larger foes, with the winter crops being limited, but against the gremlins, it worked wonders.

Daggat paced, not sure what to do. He didn’t want to go out there, but Klaw and Zuss were outside. He made a promise they wouldn’t lose again… but what was the smart move?

Windows shattered and gremlins began to crawl in. Daggat picked up the fire poker in two hands and rushed for the windows. A gremlin poked its head in, and Daggat swung. The spike pierced the gremlin in the eye, and it fell back through the window screaming. The eye was left at the end of the spike. Grimacing, Daggat shook it off.

Why were they being attacked, anyway? Surely Gobma didn’t hate Daggat and Co THAT much. And how did they find them? Zuss! It had completely slipped his mind. She was still in the Gobma’s party.

Calion was busy fighting the gremlins, so Daggat had to focus on the inside. Defense. Suddenly, there was a noise from behind. Gremlins had pushed their way into the coop and through the small door. They were inside the cottage!

A warcry drew Daggat’s attention. The fat goblin was charging. Each step sent a shock wave through its rolling folds of skin, and a green spittle was forming on the edges of the goblin's mouth. Calion had a low pose, ready to strike. But, the goblin didn’t attack. It VOMITED. Green acid spewed forth. Calion cried as he dodged to the side. The acid burned into the door frame.

Daggat lost sight of Calion as the gremlins took the opportunity to rush in. More gremlins poured in from the windows and were now rummaging from the back.

Daggat crawled onto the table. A sea of devilish creatures were tearing the place apart. Some had gotten into the stored food like rats and were gorging themselves. He saw with dismay one of them ripping pages from his copy of Divine Will.

“Hey! It’s Daggat!” One of them cried. “You’re dead. How you here?” “Yeah… you’re dead!” “Eaten by a pig, I ‘erd.” “He RAN away! Ha ha ha!” One of them threw something, and Daggat dodged. “Boss said kill everyone here. Gotta kill ‘em.” “But… this is Daggat! A legend.” “Pfft… he’s not so tough. I saw we kill ‘em!” “Yeah, sorry Dag. Gotta kill ya.”

Daggat took a quick count. Twenty gremlins filled the cottage. They swarmed like cockroaches, climbing furniture, tearing open cushions, and rummaging through shelves. Several began to close in on Daggat.

He took a deep breath to steady himself. He promised they wouldn’t lose, so he won’t.

He opened his eyes and activated Dominating Gaze.

“HEY!” The gremlins all looked at him, dumbfounded. Their gazes were locked to his. He scanned the crowd, some of the gremlins he recognized. Hudd was in the crowd, as well as others from his old squad. “I am ashamed of you all.” The gremlins quieted. They were weak, far weaker than Daggat, at least. They had not killed a drake or said the prayers. He had them all enthralled. “I was only gone for a few weeks, and you’ve already forgotten who was boss? Pathetic.

Did you think I was really dead? ME? Of course not. Neither is Klaw or Zuss. We simply left because the camp was too weak. Look at this place. Look at its riches. I was going to bring you all here once I got rid of the old codger.” The gremlins murmured amongst themselves.

“How has it been since I’ve left? Not good?”

“It’s bad. They make us fight and get hurt and die sometimes, too.” “Yeah, and Gobma was mad so he kicked us a lot more.” “It’s COLD. I don’t like the cold.” Daggat nodded sympathetically.

“Here, you don’t die. Here, you stay warm. This place could have been your’s, too. BUT YOU ALL RUINED IT!” Daggat was starting to get dizzy. He couldn’t hold his gaze for long. The gremlins made choking sounds. “But, you can redeem yourselves in the eyes of your REAL boss. Don’t forget who that is.”

“Ugh, Gobma?” “Lugo?” “Is it our boss, Plodder?”

“NO!” Daggat yelled. “It’s me!” The gremlins made a collective “Ohh!”. “Don’t you want to go back to a boss that don’t hit ya? That feeds ya?” The gremlins were getting excited. Many called out in agreement. “Then you just gotta do one thing!”

“What?” They chorused. Daggat was shaking with the effort of keeping his gaze going. His face felt like it was being squeezed.

“GO! Out there and drive away the foolish gremlins. Cut down your old bosses! GO! FIGHT FOR ME!” The gremlins howled and surged. Like a receding tide, they left the cottage and charged outside. Daggat dropped the gaze and his vision temporarily blackened. Tired from the exertion as he was, Daggat’s pride swelled. That was the first time his hypnotic, or dominating, gaze did something useful.

Giddy, he jumped up onto the window ledge to watch his handy work. The gremlins rolled back onto itself like two crashing waves. They swarmed the poor gremlins who were still stuck in the roots, cutting them to pieces. Calion was in a duel with the fat goblin, Lugo, Daggat guessed. He looked like a Lugo. When half a dozen gremlins started cutting him from behind, he turned and spewed acid on them. Their death screams sounded like boiling kettles.

Gobma was screaming. “Cowards! Cutthroats! You dare turn on me!” As he cut down the gremlins. Each swing of his short sword felled a gremlin. Daggat’s ears drooped. His army of gremlins wasn’t doing THAT great. But, better than nothing.

The fat goblin, distracted from behind, was struck solidly on the head by Calion’s broom. The old man was proud of his work and tools. He kept good care of them and fashioned them of fine materials. Tools meant to last. This broom was carved from a fallen branch of one of the titan trees. A hardwood that took great skill to work with. Almost more war staff than broom. The goblin's skull cracked and blood poured down its face.

It wobbled for a moment, then Calion blasted it with a bolt of fire. Since when could he do THAT?! The goblin fell, dead, at Calion’s feet. The old man looked tired, afraid, and furious.

The fire had spread. Daggat didn’t know what caused it, the goblins he saw had no torches or anything like that. But it illuminated the battlefield a bright orange. The splashes of blood only accented the angry flare. The firewood was doing its job, burning. Anything flammable was caught. A greater inferno burned behind the cottage. Only the stone cottage itself wasn’t burning, so Daggat decided it would be best to stay put.

“Hello, Daggat!” Daggat regretted that decision to stay. Gobma had cut his way through the makeshift rebellion. This was bad. REALLY bad. No chance dominating gaze would work on him. Daggat was almost out of tricks. He stepped into the cottage with a furious grin. Blood dripped from his pure white sword. Daggat gripped his fire poker hard enough to hurt. “It’s time to put you in your proper place. In the ground!”

Character stats will appear at the end of the battle!