As you and your party follow Donovan out of town and into the nearby forest, the bright afternoon slowly dims into twilight and the humid air on your skin cools down a little. Aala looks a little concerned.

"Hey, it's getting pretty dark out, Don," she says. "How much further out are these goblins?"

"Hm? Oh, don't worry, we've basically arrived already," Donovan says as he twists in between the increasingly dense tree trunks. "In fact..."

He hacks away at a couple of tangled tree branches, revealing a small clearing beyond them and a pitch-black cave entrance under a mound of green grass, before entering the clearing. He turns to face the rest of the party and smiles softly. "Here we are," he says. "The cave of the goblin worshippers of Goz, the living god sitting on the Throne of Thieves."

Alvar tilts his head inquisitively as he follows Donovan in. "Throne of Thieves? As in, he's a god of thievery?"

Aala steps into the clearing, her face expressionless and voice monotone. "The Throne of Thieves is a minor Throne that most people ignore since its father Throne, the Throne of Trickery, is a lot broader and comes with more perks as a result. The only reason anyone would worship the Throne of Thieves would be if they're not interested or capable of trickery - "

"That's it, then," you say as you enter the clearing. "Goblins are uncharismatic and simpleminded little things. No-one normal would fall for a goblin's tricks. They apparently are pretty quick though, so they'd be better thieves than tricksters."

"Indeed," Aala says, "those little fuckers would turn to god-worship since they're too stupid to rely on the Thrones themselves. And only a god could love those damn greenskins..."

You gasp in mock shock. "You said a bad word! How could you be so cruel? So sinful? The Thrones shall strip your powers from you and smite you for your crime Aala! Truly, truly, woe upon you!"

Aala doesn't say anything, but you see a tiny smile tug at the corners of her lips and her white-knuckled grip on her war-mallet loosens. You allow yourself a small smile, hidden from the rest of the party by your hood. 

Donovan smiles at her. "Well, even if the Thrones strip away your powers from you, that fighting spirit of yours won't disappear. I like that about you."

Aala quickly turns away from Donovan, but you can tell her face is going red. Your blood boils at the sight.

"Let's go on then, shall we?" You loudly say as you walk towards the cave, before taking out a tinderbox and oil lamp from your robe pocket and lighting it. You use it to illuminate the cave entrance, revealing a hole going a short distance downwards before turning horizontal into a tunnel. You turn back to the others. "Aala, come take a look at this," you call out.

She walks towards you, peering down into the cave. "See anything unusual?" You ask.

She squints her eyes. "No... not really..."

You frown. "No? No tripwires or traps or anything?"

"No."

This deeply concerns you. Goblins are known to rely on alarm systems and traps to detain enemies since they're too weak to risk fighting head-on. There must be something else here... something a lot worse than goblins... you turn to Donovan to ask him about it -

But then you see those cruel, icy eyes. His brow is raised in a mocking fashion. He's daring you to ask him for help, goading you into relying on him... you turn away from him and fix your gaze on Alvar.

"Alvar, come over here and go down this hole first, please."

He clunks over in his armour, tilts his head at the hole, and jumps in.

"GOOOOLD!"

You hear him land at the bottom of the hole unharmed, with a loud clank.

"WE'RE COMING FOR YOUR GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOLD!" He calls out into the darkness. He turns up to you and shrugs. No response. This concerns you even further, but you don't show it.

Aala looks at you with an eyebrow raised and a quizzical look on her face. "Why'd you send him down first?"

You grin. "The fighter ought to go in first, no?"

"Normally the fighter isn't so loud."

"The fighter has to be loud. He can't hear you over the sound of him swimming in all that gold."

You all chuckle.

All three of you.

You realise Donovan is softly laughing behind the pair of you before you feel his cold grip on your shoulder. You feel yourself flinch slightly at the contact and Donovan seems to start laughing a little louder.

"Well," he says, "I think I ought to go in next, don't you think?" But he's not talking to you.

You turn to see Donovan's other hand resting on Aala's shoulder, who's looking up at him with big eyes.

"U-uh, yes," she stutters.

Donovan moves past the two of you and swiftly, gracefully, hops into the hole, barely making a noise as he lands. You look at Aala with a polite smile on your face.

"Hey, do you know Light?" You ask.

"Yeah, I do - "

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

"Why don't you cast it on your war-mallet and jump in next? I'll follow in after you."

She begins to laugh at your proposition, before stopping upon realising you're being serious. She looks at you with an eyebrow raised. "You know, normally, the cleric goes in last so the rest of the party can protect her."

"Under normal circumstances, I wouldn't ask you to go in before me, but these aren't exactly normal circumstances."

"Yes, but even so - "

You playfully punch her shoulder. "You know you can trust me. I know what I'm doing."

She sighs. "Yeah, you are pretty smart, aren't you? Alright, I'll go in," she says, before casting Light on her war-mallet and jumping down into the cave.

You keep your eyes on her glowing mallet as she falls, and once you've put away your oil lamp you jump in after her with both of you landing with hard thuds against the rocky and uneven cavern floor on your feet. Your eyes are still on her. She's looking wistfully at something a little up ahead... oh. It's Donovan.

You walk in between the two of them. "Well, it seems there's no gold here," you say loudly as you look around. Indeed, there's no gold as far as the light from Aala's mallet shines, but there's something else missing too.

"No goblins either."

Donovan frowns. "I'm not sure what's up. I'm certain my sources were correct... this is definitely where the cult of Goz is located along with their gold."

There was something very wrong with this situation. You didn't doubt Donovan's skills - even though you despised him, he's still an exceptional rogue. But that's the thing. He's an exceptional rogue. It wouldn't be far-fetched to consider that he might have lied about this cave for one reason or another. But what a convincing and specific lie it is... he even knew the name of the god of thievery, which seemed unlikely if he really was lying. No. This truly is a goblin hideout. But there must be something more insidious deeper inside...

Your party cautiously goes forward into the cave, Alvar leading it, seeing nothing but dust and rocks as you do so. But the cave is much longer than any of you anticipated - perhaps the goblins simply lurk deeper in the dark and the traps are all there. But Aala suddenly pulls her war mallet to her side as though preparing to fight and has her brow furrowed.

"I hear voices. Someone's up ahead."

Her expression softens from that of determination to one of confusion. "But they don't sound like goblins... they're... people? Humans?"

Donovan dashes off into the darkness before anyone has a chance to say anything, and you hear a call from him a minute later.

"It's safe!" His voice echoes.

The three of you follow him into the darkness, finding at the end of it a bend into a small crevice, where torchlight dimly flickers across Donovan laughing with a group of much older adventurers clad in painfully shiny steel armour as they stand over a deep pit.

"Donovan, are these your party members?" A tall adventurer with a face of stubble asks.

"Hm? Oh, yes, these are Aala, Alvar and Hale," Donovan says, pointing you out to him. "Guys, this is Rodrick. He's a captain of the White Paladins, sworn to the Oath of Liberty. Level 6. And he's made our job a lot easier."

"Indeed," Rodrick says, turning to Alvar, "are you the leader of the party?" His voice is deep and smooth.

Alvar tilts his head. "Erm, no, not really, I would say that - "

"Regardless," Rodrick cuts in, "I believe that you were here looking for goblins to kill as part of an examination quest from the Academy of Freemen?"

"Yes, we were, but also go - "

"WELL, GOOD NEWS FOR YOU! We've done your job for you!"

"What?"

"Have a look in that old pit, will you?"

"But what about the go - "

Aala and you step forward to look into the pit and you see...

You see...

Oh, by the Thrones...

Your skin crawls as you see dozens of green-skinned little creatures, each no larger than a six-year-old child, sprawled across each other, softly moaning and groaning in pain in pools of their own blood. Some of them clearly have horribly broken bodies and broken limbs as they heave and crawl over each other. They crawl towards...

Towards...

Oh, no...

A massive, beautiful idol of gold stands at the other side of a goblin standing tall and mighty, dressed in fine robes of silk and wearing a crown. It's surrounded by countless gold and silver coins. This must be their god, Goz. They're trying to reach their god... trying to beg for him to help them in their time of need... you feel a little sick - 

But you repress it. You turn to see Aala and see exactly what you need - her grinning face, one of righteous hatred of the evil of these pathetic, pilfering little pieces of shit that didn't deserve to live. This was no different to swatting a mosquito. Them crawling towards the idol is simply like a moth fluttering near a flame - idiots attracted by things that will bring them nothing but destruction.

You hear Rodrick sigh behind you as he talks with Alvar.

"Are you really sure you're a fighter? With just how much gold you're trying to pick at, I think you'd be much better off as a moneylender..."

"Listen, friend, I understand that you wish to be compensated for your good work, and I understand you're already kind enough to grant us the privilege of slaying these goblins for their EXP. That's why I'm letting you take the gold idol, while we take the coins!"

"I keep telling you, we don't want the idol! I'm not going to have something like that with me, no matter how much it's worth in gold!"

"Might I suggest," came the soft voice of Donovan, "that we get the idol?"

Aala suddenly turns around to Donovan, her face one of shock. "We can't do something so terrible as to = "

"Aala, my dear, don't forget that Hale knows the cantrip Immolate. In fact, he invented it, didn't he? Why doesn't he simply use it to melt the statue down? And while we're at it, why don't we let those crawling goblins get to it as he's melting it with the fire? Then we'll not only kill two birds with one stone, but we'll get quite an amusing display..."

Her expression goes blank for a second before she smiles gleefully. "What a splendid idea!" She says. "The heretical fools will feel the price of betraying the Thrones and the Heroes in the fires of hell, while their god melts before them!"

Your mind begins rushing through ways of avoiding having to do this, but you only find one. Immolate is a cantrip you created that causes a fire of extreme heat to be created in exchange for the fire to burn through something of value - 

"Don't be silly," you say. "Goblin blood has no value."

Donovan smiles and puts a hand on your shoulder. "Yes, but the idol does."

He's right. As you melt away at the gold, the idol's worth as an artifact will disappear, turning it from an item of worship to nothing more than a lump of metal.

You must burn it.

You look back at the heap of goblins crawling towards the idol. Rodrick looks at it and decides to speed things up, casting a telekinetic spell you don't recognise to move the idol towards the goblins as they crawl all over it. You stare as they slowly clamber, moaning louder as they touch and rub the gold, staining it with their blood. you feel a sickening voice enter your head...

They're so weak...

They're so weak...

Look at them, scraping away at the gold, trying to grab it, hoping their god will save them...

Scraping like little, feeble demons...

"IMMOLATE!"

You hear a voice scream it, resounding across the walls of the cavern, and you realise it's your own. The idol begins melting in terrible flames. The goblins are screaming hoarsely as they try to get off, but the soft gold sucks them in and sticks them to the burning statue. Some goblins' screams are cut short as the molten metal trickles into their mouths. They slowly become ash as the proud face of Goz deforms and disappears into nothing but gold. Soon there's only one left, and you swear you hear him, surely a shaman, whisper into your mind using the last of his power...

Our god has forsaken us. Yours will too.

He turns to ash.

The flames stop.

There's nothing left but a puddle of shiny liquid and ash.

You hear beeps throughout the cavern. It's your party's stat slates.

You've all levelled up. One step closer to becoming a hero.