The tracker knelt at the fork in the path and examined the ground.

He brushed his fingertips over the hoof prints stamped in the earth and raised them to his nose. I watched as he inhaled deeply.

“What the hell is he doing?” Asked Seth. He was frowning down at the tracker as he picked at the stems of plants that had been trampled by the path of horses.

“Who the hell knows.” Kato had his sword propped over one shoulder. His face was still smeared with the grime of the recent battle, but he looked determined.

“Stealth traits are notoriously… odd.” He said.

I shifted impatiently from foot to foot. Tracking the path of the Goblin's hadn't been easy.

When I’d prepared to go after the Count’s Son I’d assumed I’d be doing so alone.

To my surprise, Draxus, Seth, and Kato had volunteered almost immediately. Gills had insisted I take the 3rd Auxiliary's best tracker with with me to help expedite the process.

I was beginning to wonder if that had been a mistake. Martin was a bit of an odd ball. And to my growing frustration, he didn't seem to share my sense of urgency.

“How long is this going to take?” I asked him.

The tracker turned, his face a mask of irritation.

“Trust the process,” he snapped before turning back to his dirt sniffing.

I sighed and brought up my stat window.

Class: Soldier

Rank: Foot soldier, 3rd Auxiliary

Level: 15

Strength: 19%

Vitality: 16%

Damage: 19%

Endurance: 16%

Agility: 18%

I had received a healthy boost in stats during the battle, and I was already starting to feel the effects of the change. It was subtle, but it was certainly there.

I felt lighter on my feet when I moved and my sword and shield didn’t feel as heavy in my hands. I shifted my shoulders and made a few experimental cuts in the air with my blade.

Kato arched a knowing eyebrow.

“Your stat increase is impressive. Usually it takes a while for a soldier to ascend five levels, but you’ve done so since first joined the 3rd. It’s…uncanny, really."

I glanced around it him, suddenly wary. But Kato’s face didn’t show any signs of suspicion. Instead his expression was thoughtful as he shared a significant look with Draxus.

I raised my brows.

“Care to share with the class?”

Draxus shrugged his massive shoulders, and rubbed the back of his neck. He suddenly looked sort of sheepish - like a child that had been caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

“Well,” he said.

“Since you… you know… managed to take down that Troll for the 3rd to finish off, there has been a bit of an ongoing bet."

Kato looked like he was trying not to burst out laughing. I narrowed my eyes.

“What kind of bet?”

Draxus stuck his tongue in his cheek and shrugged again.

“On whether or not you might become a Gifted,” he said.

This answer caught me off guard.

“Me?” I asked, uncertainly.

Draxus nodded.

“There aren’t many level 10’s that would have survived a close encounter with a high level rock Troll and live to tell the tale. Some get lucky of course but well…. That’s how legends are born.”

I looked at Kato.

“And you’re in on this?”

Kato flashed a smile.

“My good man, you’re speaking to the bookie himself. I never turn away the opportunity for a bit of coin."

I snorted.

“I doubt anyone is going to put actual coin on…” I trailed off at the look on his face.

“Seriously?”

“Will the three of you please shut your mouths? I can hardly concentrate with all your yapping.”

“Do you think we should tie him to a tree and leave him here?” asked Kato.

I considered it.

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“Depends on if we get actual results. If we dally any longer then I doubt we’ll find anything more than a corpse.”

And then I'd be on my way to joining dear Lord Dacon in death. I kept that sobering thought to myself.

After another minute the tracker rose with a swish of his cloak and pointed in the direction we'd already been going.

“That way,” he said.

“Well that was anticlimactic.” Kato adjusted his grip on his sword and made to follow after him. I stared at the back Martin's cowl, annoyed.

“How can you tell?” I asked him. He turned around to give me an incredulous look.

“Unlike you rookie, I’ve been a member of the 3rd since I was a lad. Tracking isn’t just my job, it’s my profession.”

“Professional dirt licker,” whispered Kato. Draxus’s lips twitched.

The Martin was oblivious.

“The tracks at the crossroads converged at two points. The deep hoof prints tell me that the horses who went right were moving quickly and carrying heavy loads - most likely armored men. The path on the right is mixed. There were Goblin boot prints and scuff marks that can only be associated with the way the Horde moves. Then there was the smell.”

“The smell?”

The tracker nodded, swinging his bow from his shoulder.

“There is something else other than Goblin’s in this area. I saw a monster print - what kind I can’t be sure. But whatever it is, it has claws the size of knives.”

“Lovely.” I muttered. “Just what we needed.”

He led us through the trees until a point where the trail ended. He examined the ground, doing more of his ritualistic sniffing and tasting while we waited.

When he was satisfied he led us past a small stream which we followed North.

“There’s something that’s bothering me,” I said. I was careful to keep the pitch of my voice low in case enemies were around.

“Why wouldn’t the Goblin’s just kill Dacon? Why go through the trouble of capturing him.”

Draxus grimaced.

“Goblins live in cave nests. This Horde is from much deeper underground than most of their subterranean brethren. There are dark rumors….stories soldiers tell around campfires.”

His lips twisted in distaste.

“Some men say that the further down the Goblin’s dwell, the more depraved and barbaric the Horde becomes. Perhaps it’s the darkness and the lack of resources that turns them so viscous. They say some prefer to eat flesh…. Or even each other.”

That was a terrifying thought. I had seen the brutality of Goblin warriors first hand, but I had never considered that these pale skinned beasts would be cannibals. That did not bode well for the young Lord.

I grimaced.

“Maybe we should have brought more men.”

Draxus shook his head slowly.

“No, Lord Blackthorne was correct. A small party can move faster and without attracting as much attention. Our best chance at rescuing the Count’s son, if he’s even still alive, is to slip in and out as quickly as we can. Men in full plate banging around the forest isn’t exactly subtle.”

I conceded the point with a grunt.

A movement ahead caught my eye and I halted at the trackers signal. I had to throw out an arm to stop Seth from blundering past. Martin had frozen six strides ahead of us, his arm thrown out behind him in warning.

It didn’t take long to realize why.

The forest floor was a covered in roots and the debris of fallen leaves. Beneath this detritis rose the points of several wooden spikes. In fact, area seemed to be covered in them for several feet in either direction.

“Trap,” said the tracker unnecessarily.

“It means we’re on the right path.”

We moved with more caution, stopping every now and then to let Martin assess our surroundings.

Twice we came across prints in the dirt that looked as if they had been made by some giant dog. The claw marks were deep, leaving sizable furrows in the ground.

I was on my guard, raising my sword at any unexpected sound.

Eventually the tracker led us to a break in the trees that opened into a small clearing. The mouth of a cave was just visible beneath a carpet of lichen and moss.

What drew my eye however was what had been placed at the entrance of the cave as a warning to all who entered.

Several sharpened wooden stakes had been stuck point up in the earth and on them were human heads.

Many of the heads were old, no more than the dried remains of skin stretched over sun bleached skulls. But two looked as if they were fresh.

I examined the faces, and breathed a sigh of relief when I confirmed none of the fresh heads had been Dacon’s.

It was no less disturbing a sight.

“The drag marks lead through here,” said the tracker, gesturing to the scuffs that cut through the lichen.

“Seems like the survivors put up a fight. There’s Goblin blood here.”

He was right. Black icor spilled across the the moss in a dripping trail that led into the grey darkness. The tracker strung his bow, pulling an arrow from the quiver on his back.

“I’ll stand guard,” he said.

“The fuck you will.” Draxus was unimpressed. “You're with us Martin, whether you like it or not. No slinking off to safety while the others do the work for you. At least not today.”

The tracker glared at him but at the expression on the larger man’s face he conceded with a hiss of breath through his teeth.

“It's a Fool’s errand,” he muttered, but nevertheless he led us into the mouth of the cave.

The light faded the deeper we went. As we walked I saw where the natural cave ended and the Goblin made tunnels began. Goblin tunnels were much smaller and almost perfectly rounded. They stank of unwashed bodies and old piss but in the air I caught the scent of something else.

Sulfur.

I put out a hand, signaling for the group to slow. The tunnels had narrowed enough that we could only walk two abreast.

“Sulfur,” I said. “It smells like sorcery.”

“Could be a Goblin Shaman,” said Draxus.

“If that’s the case we are well and truly fucked.” Kato sounded Grim. “None of us are equipped to handle a shaman.. Unless we’re lucky enough to catch him sleeping but I highly doubt that.”

“We could go back for reinforcements,” Martin suggested. “Lord Blackthorne is organizing a party that will descend into local nests and clear them. It would take some time but-“

“That’s the one thing we don’t have.”

I shook my head.

“I’m as good as dead if the Dacon ends up as Goblin soup. But the rest of you aren’t bound to my fate. You should leave now instead of risking getting killed in some dark tunnel. There are other things to live for.”

“Is he done talking? Because I didn’t come all this way to return with no loot.” Kato stepped past me.

Draxus shot him a look.

“We're with you.” He said. Seth nodded, his face determined.

“We came here for a purpose Trollslayer. We won’t turn tail and run.”

I swallowed hard and nodded.

Martin was the only one of us that looked unhappy. He kept darting glances behind us like he expected a Goblin to put a knife between his shoulder blades at any moment.

“Fine,” he conceded sullenly. "But I want a hefty share of any loot we may or may not collect."

We continued our downward path, as the tunnels sloped and became steeper. At some point Draxus pulled a torch from his inventory and lit it with flint and steel. The sudden light hurt my eyes and it took a minute for them to adjust.

There were three narrow tunnel openings ahead of us. Martin examined each before directing us to the left most path.

“Should we check the others?” asked Seth.

“No time.”

I stepped forward and led the way down the mouth of the tunnel. The floor smoothed out and opened into a cavern with stalactites dripping from the ceiling. Draxus raised his torch higher.

“Smells like death.” Despite his low tone the words bounced off of the tunnel wall in an eerie cacophony of whispers. We all froze, holding our breaths for any sign of movement or sound.

There was nothing.

“Shit." The sound had come from Martin.

He was standing off to one side and his gaze was fixed on something below.

“What is it?”

He turned to look at us and as he did a strange glow shone off of the whites of his eyes. He no longer looked troubled. He looked afraid.

“I think I found the source of our sorcery.”