Numerous pine trees swayed slowly in the midday breeze, their thick presence helping conceal the entrance to a small cave adorned with numerous shamanistic totems and carvings. Unlike what one would normally expect, however, were a series of elaborately hidden barricades and barriers surrounding the entrance and completely covered in foliage and brambles.

With a slight rustling, a small, green creature with elongated ears, sharpened nails, little hair and large, oblong eyes poked its head out from the brush. On its neck was a sickle-shaped tattoo, and his left ear was pierced with a small golden ring. It was a creature whose appearance would undoubtedly be called foul by human standards.

With a guttural sputtering of noise that would be considered incomprehensible in human tongues, the goblin called out to the hidden sentries.

“Lok! Gurkh, We return!”

From behind one of the hidden barriers, an audible sigh of relief could be heard. The goblin Lok poked his head out from behind the barrier, his darker green skin showing he had aged well into adulthood. He had a matching tattoo branded on to his neck.

“Rok, try to say something sooner! We had almost put an arrow through you! Hueck, do you bring good news?”

With a pained expression, the goblin Rok lowered his eyes and shook his head slowly.

“Worse than Gurk. We found few Torb survivors in the woods, but rest of tribe has been…”

“No need to explain to me then, Elders having tribal meeting now. You should only have to say it once to them.”

Lok stepped out from behind the barricade and put a hand on Rok’s shoulder, patting it lightly before shouting out to the woodline.

“Our tribe safe! Come so we can inspect for infection! The Trommel set aside past grievance and accept the Torb into our home, just as we accepted the Gurk!”

A chorus of rustling soon followed, as dozens of male and female goblins emerged from the brush. Many of them had a hammer branded on their right arms while wearing assorted hides and had small knives made of bone, while another dozen armed goblins with spears and bows had a sickle branded on their necks and were clad in thicker leathers and light leather helmets. Regardless of brand or equipment, all the goblins shared the same dark expression: one borne of fear and uncertainty.

As several other sentries emerged from behind the barriers with a shaman, they waved the newcomers into a line and began to thoroughly inspect each of them before entry.

With a quiet whisper, and not turning to meet his friend’s eyes, Rok continued.

“Lok, it is even worse than just losing Torb. We checked the nearby human towns and our scout posts, they were struck too. Nothing was left. No scouts, no humans.”

Lok’s eyes grew wider, as the implications began to dawn on him.

No matter how many years pass, how strong the tribe becomes or how desperate times get, one lesson gets drilled into young goblin minds without fail. Do not attack the human tribes. Defend as you must, and you can steal from those wandering the roads between tribes, but to attack the tribe itself brings nothing except disaster. THIS was common knowledge amongst the goblins, engrained through blood, pain and terror.

Unlike the monsters of the forests or the elven and demi-human tribes of the Hawthorne Wilderness, who would only kill for food or to protect their lands, the humans would summon terrible warriors who marched in great numbers. Wearing iron skin and wielding terrible magics that would leave no goblin they could find alive, many tribes faced total annihilation from the humans when angered.

The Eastern Ogre tribe had recently made that mistake, once sworn friends of the Trommel, and it was Lok who discovered the tragedy when he went to seek their aid many moons ago. His small body shuddered as recalled the memory, as he hid in the brush when he discovered humans guarding the entrance of the cave, and only entering after they had left carrying their dead in brown sacks out with them.

The sight of the human’s brutality gave him nightmares, and showed that the stories of his youth were all true.

“Then that means… the humans will come here soon. Hurry Rok, and tell the Elders! For the good of the tribe, we must flee. Even without the protection of our home, at least we would have a chance to risk it in the wilds!”

The shaking in Lok’s voice was palpable, his eyes suddenly straining to see further through the brush surrounding their cave as he tightened an arrow on his bow.

“Do you think the humans would stop just because we left our tribe? Our home?”

Rok’s hand tightened on the hilt of a small sword, carefully hidden under his leather armor.

“Even if they didn’t, nothing but death would come for us here. Now go! They might already be on their way!”

Rok nodded, before finally resolving himself and hurrying into the darkness of the cave, followed closely by the sound of totems and charms beginning to rattle eerily in the growing wind.

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While their spirits began high as they departed from Njord, Lu couldn’t shake a growing feeling something was amiss.

The farther they got from Njord, and the closer they got to Gatagaror, which is the nearest hamlet to the frontier town that had been raided, the quieter everything had become. It started as the sounds of birds fading away, but by the time they reached the small hamlet, even the familiar hum of insects began to slowly disappear.

Things were no better after they had arrived at the hamlet, consisting of little more than a dozen huts and enough small fields to sustain the people living there. Except instead of preparing the fields for the coming planting season, all the villagers had locked themselves inside their huts. Only the chief was willing to crack his window to speak with Lu and the rest of the party, speaking in nothing but hushed whispers, he had only one piece of dark new information.

All the residents of the frontier town of Torp had been slaughtered, and that he saw a frothing swarm of goblins and wargs do it.

**Wargs are cousins of the Dire Wolves. While still pack hunters, they are more feral, and much more independently minded. They are also much more likely to kill for sport than for food, and often leave messy kills in the open to startle and distract new potential prey. **

From there, the Red Sun ceased all their chatter, and they quietly made their way north towards Torp, moving through the brush adjacent the road and keeping a vigilant eye out for any signs of ambush until they arrived.

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Diane’s heart was pounding furiously as she approached the silent town. Even with the bright light of day upon them, and even after thoroughly scouting the empty surroundings of the village, she couldn’t shake the feeling of dread that was washing over her.

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Ahusaka said he had spotted something moving inside the village, and they had decided to flank in from all sides to catch whatever it was, while Ahusaka posted himself in a tree to keep watch.

The sight of the blood splattered on the ground and scattered walls of the village was far too familiar a sight for her, and one that had haunted her relentlessly.

Her breathing was coming in quick and ragged, and her knuckles turned white from how fiercely she gripped her rapier.

Emily was not far behind her with Thistleman, her bow drawn and arrows notched, prepared to shoot the first thing that moved.

If she wasn’t so focused on what might appear before her, she might have taken a moment to note that rather than any form of concern at their current situation, Thistle was more perplexed and lost in thought.

Biting her lip hard enough for blood to draw, she quietly pressed herself to the wall of the first hut, next to its window.

*thump ba-thump ba-thump*

Calm breathing…. Calm breathing…. This time will be different! This time I am different!

She couldn’t stop the shaking from her own body, as she slowly peeked her head around the corner of the windowsill.

Inside the house was yet more blood and broken furniture, the door on the other side broken off its hinges.

Ok, its clear…. To the next one…

She waved for Emily to come closer, before proceeding to the next hut. She proceeded this way towards the center of the small town, with each hut filling her with more dread than the last!

The slowly strengthening wind began to cause the few remaining doors to creak on their hinges, echoing unpleasantly in the silence. At last she, she had reached the last hovel before the town center. The smell of dried blood was overwhelming, adrenaline coursing through her veins.

She could hear it… whatever it was on the other side of the hovel! A slow, steady creaking filling the air. With barely a glance around the corner, she could see the edge of a large antler before she flattened herself into the wall again! Emily kept her bow trained on the open space around the edge, her eyes focused on a strange shadow cast by the light of the sun.

Just burn it! I should just burn it! Don’t even give it a chance to move!

Diane tried to focus, building magical energy in her hand, getting ready to open with a fireball!

Just to have her focus completely shattered, a gruff, deep male voice cutting sharply through the air!

“Ay, I can smell y’all hiding around me. If you want to ambush me, just come on out and face me like proper men!”

She couldn’t hold it in anymore, and Diane let loose a shrill “Eeeeep!” before covering her mouth with her free hand.

“Huh? A woman? Well that explains that. Come on out already.”

From behind one of the other hovels, Diane saw Terra boldly step out, axe in hand and a relieved grin on her face.

“Bahahaha! What’s so wrong with being a woman, eh? I wouldn’t have expected any self-respecting man to dress himself like that! Perhaps you can’t read the room on where you are?”

Terra placed a strong emphasis on the word ‘man’ as she spoke.

It isn’t… he isn’t…

Diane nearly collapsed in relief, before finally turning around the corner herself.

The sight of the ‘man’ indeed made Terra’s words make sense, and his appearance certainly explained why Ahusaka couldn’t give a good description of what he saw.

First, covering most of the man’s head, was the large, hollowed out head of a thunder deer. Its lower jaw was removed, leaving enough open space to show the man’s face within. His golden hair and white skin provided a sharp accent to his bright green eyes.

His body was covered in an extreme variety of shamanistic tattoos, and his flesh was perforated with the bones, fangs and claws of various beasts. The thick skulls of other creatures were strapped carefully to protect his vital organs, while he held an ornate bone staff in one hand and had a long, wicked-looking spear strapped to his back. His only adorned clothing was a large wolf pelt draped around his waist.

On the other side of him, Diane could see Grace stop in her tracks, staring in what can only be described as a mix of disgusted wonderment.

The only other one who had managed to keep his composure was Lu.

“So then, since we have humored you and shown ourselves, tell us, what relationship do you have with this village?”

The strange man didn’t answer at first, looking unperturbed at those who surrounded him.

“One, two, three… four! To think we would even let so many women become hunters, how our ancestors would laugh at us!”

His voice was dripping with sneering derision.

“Perhaps your ancestors would mock you even further if it was these same women who killed you?”

Grace’s voice matched the strange mans with just as much venom.

*Pah!*

The man spat into the stone well nearby, before crouching down and looking carefully at the ground.

“Yeh ain’t what I am hunting today, so lucky for all of us, I don’t intend to kill or be killed by anyone here.”

“Hoooh, tough words for a man on his lonesome! Maybe you would change your mind if I decided to play with you for a bit?”

Lu had both of his fans fully drawn, with one closed and pointing at Terra, and the other fully open and pointing threatening at the man.

“Terra, hold yourself back for a bit! And for you, at the very least then, answer my question and we won’t have to resort to fighting. What is your relationship with the village here? Who are you and do you know anything about the goblins that attacked it?”

“Hmph. Fine. I am called an Úlfhéðnar, we don’t carry any other names. If this village was attacked by goblins as you say, then I have no other interest or business here. I am hunting far more fearsome prey, a great white bear as fierce as they come! If you were to come across this creature, you would be best set to find me again rather than face it yourselves. You might not like what would happen to you if you fought it! Hyehyehyeh! ”

With a wet laugh, sounding almost as if it was stuck in his throat, the Úlfhéðnar stood again, and strode past Grace as he left the village.

“W-what… even was that?”

Diane stammered out her question, voicing out her concern, one shared by everyone in the group.

“A relic from a bygone era.”

Thistleman broke his long silence on this trip in answer to her question, his brows still creased in thought.

“And how would you know that?”

Lu couldn’t help but ask, surprised that this boy might know something he didn’t.

“Well that should be obvious, I bothered to take an interest in the culture of the city we moved to.”

“Ay, but you missed an important part. Úlfhéðnar are spoken of in our children’s tales, from long before we settled in Njord. They are the mad warriors who would take our most violent and brutal tribesman into war. Men driven so made by rage, no blade could stop them, and they wouldn’t stop fighting until long after their opponents were dead. The Berserkirs!”

…

Thistleman had only started reading that story. He was loathe to admit he had only learned enough to translate part of it. To have his reading level be considered worse than that of a child… even if he only just started learning the language, it couldn’t help but sting his pride.

Lu let off a deep sigh.

“Perhaps it is a good thing that we did not waste our time or energy fighting him either. At the very least, there are more than enough goblin tracks here. Ahusaka can certainly follow them back to whatever hole they crawled out of! We still cannot drop our guards, let’s get back in formation and get moving again. After we locate and scout out their nest, we will go over our plan of attack.”

Diane had recovered most of her composure by now, but the most she could still do was nod meekly.

This village had brought back far too many painful memories for her.

We can’t leave here soon enough… why did I have to make such a big mess at the exam…

She could feel a small hand grab on to her shoulder.

“Don’t worry, they are a good team! Lu has a good head on his shoulders, and you have me with you this time! I’ll make sure we all get back no matter what!”

Thistleman shot her a big, confident grin as he made his bold declaration.

“Hehe, you can’t even fight! If anything, I will have to be the one to protect you!”

“Hurry up, you want me to leave you behind?!”

“Coming!” Diane turned to quickly follow Terra’s shout, while her fear had certainly subsided a hint of deep sadness remained.

The moment she looked away, all pretense of a smile slowly faded from Thistleman’s face, as he intently and secretly monitored her expressions.

(Thistleman) What… what else should I do? I can still feel it… even if she hides it…

His hands balled up more and more into a tighter and tighter fist, as small beads of blood began to drip between his fingers. Small amounts of miasma emanated from the freshly dripping blood, with the bugs and worms moving to rapidly escape away from the soil they fell upon.

Thistleman shook his head, then hurried to catch up before anyone could notice him missing. A small drop of his blood flew from his hand, landing on a small roach.

The bug ran erratically for a short while, before rolling on to its back, its legs twitching erratically. Its brown shell slowly turned a darker and darker black, and slowly began to pulsate. A small, shrill “Eeeeeeiiiiii” began to escape from between its growing mandibles, which no one was around to hear or see.