Monday, April 29th, 2069

There were at least a few hundred White Goblins still moving about in the village. I personally could only ‘see’ about fifteen with my Heat Vision, but could feel at least ten times that number of heat sources when I flipped Heat Sense onto a body part.

The second, far more distracting ‘sense’ this close to the village, was the smell. Down in the Lake cave, the smell of the cook pot had been like something I’d at least associate with cooking. Even though I was still desperately trying to convince myself that the odors of said pot had been nauseating—well. admittedly, the smells coming off the village were going a long way to help that internal lying dialogue..

The village was foul. It smelled like the body odor of a man who had showered in rancid spiced meats and fecal matter. It was the only way to explain how the malodorous fumes permeated my nostrils and burned the nose hairs, even when I was consciously breathing through my mouth. I fought my urge to gag as the imaginary ‘taste’ of that air assaulted my tongue.

[If they see with Heat Vision won’t they be able to see me up here, too?] I mentally asked Smegma as he returned from a quick scouting mission.

He’d decided that the safest route would follow the small stream down from the Lake. And so far, we hadn’t run into any Goblins, so he might be right…

They sure didn’t seem to wash themselves regularly. I gagged again as I accidentally inhaled a tiny portion of air through my nose. Dammit!

“Would you be able to tell the difference between you and a White Goblin using Heat Vision?” Smegma asked, his word choice sounding condescending, but his tone seeming serious.

[I mean, from here, no. But from closer I would be able to, for sure.]

“We’ll deal with that when we get to it,” Smegma suggested. “Let’s not attribute too much intelligence to the Monsters, until they show it to us, okay?”

I thought back to the smaller-likely-smarter-than-average Goblin ‘King’, firing the weapons indiscriminately at a cave wall—and what it had brought him and the warriors. The short confirming nod came pretty easy after that. If that was their brightest bulb, then perhaps sneaking in would be simple.

With Smegma leading the way, we advanced another hundred meters before I crouched behind a rock that probably only hid about a quarter of my body. Still, with both me and the enemy using Heat Vision, that wasn’t important—or, so Smegma had explained, rather disdainfully.

The pattern continued, and the smell continued to intensify. I’d pulled up my face-guard at some point, but even it was being completely overwhelmed. As we moved forward again, I discovered why the smell was increasing.

We skirted around a rather large, semi-warm rock—wait—only a few places were warm, like it was a mound of elongated pebbles. Or shit! My steps stopped as I took in the massive pile of Goblin crap. It was easily three times my height, and wider at its base than even the Snake’s head.

Then I realized where this huge pile of feces was, and wanted to vomit immediately. The poop pile was creating a literal dam in the small stream. I flipped off heat vision, and saw that it wasn’t a dam, since a small pathway in the base of the fecal monolith had been eroded—so the water could continue, through the dung and onto the village.

[Are they husking stupid?] I asked, staring at the city-destroying biohazard. This simple act, if perpetrated on Earth, would likely wipe out an entire population of a village or city a hundred times larger than—

“You humans and your hang-ups. Water cannot be contaminated. The System will remove all contaminants if the water is pulled from a proper source. Of course, if the water is in a tank, or container, it can be poisoned. But from a Lake, Stream, River or even Marsh—it can’t hurt you!”

[But the taste then!] I argued, feeling my earlier meal of Mirror Fish climb its way up my throat before I managed to swallow the lump down again. It left a sickly acidic taste behind, which I tried to focus on, over the smell.

“Maybe they like it?” Smegma suggested, but crinkled his own nose in disgust at the thought. I knew the Demon couldn’t smell the putrid, violating smell, so his show of distaste came simply from imagining that taste.

Mirror Fish attempted to resurface a second time.

[Let’s go,] I managed mentally, even as I swallowed the larger lump of my last meal. It felt like it clawed its way physically back down my throat.

Smegma led the way, and we made it far enough past the poop pile, for me to at least stop worrying about vomiting—I hoped.

All the movement did mean more reddish-orange outlines of Goblins became visible in my Heat Vision. I could see fifty now, moving about in what I assumed were rock huts. Why did I make that assumption?

Toggling off Heat Vision showed me one such ‘hut.’ It was something between an inukshuk, and an igloo, with stacked stones that looked like they had been chipped out of walls in whatever shape the Goblins could manage. Those stones were stacked in precarious circles, climbing to about six feet before they tapered inward, forming a very rough dome.

How they stayed standing was why I thought of inukshuks. The stone ‘artwork’ somehow stuck together and seemed to deny gravity. Supposedly the sculptures used water as a ‘mortar’ to give the stones a bit more stick. These rock stacks also had no mortar, which led me to believe that they were created—

“By the System, moron,” Smegma interrupted my study of the architecture. “Can we keep moving now that you’re done comparing System-created scenery to artwork?”

[I wasn’t comparing it—]

“Just be glad the System didn’t have them use the shit pile back there as mud!” Smegma interjected again, and I swallowed the bile that tried to rise at the thought. I also flipped him the husking bird! That was a dick move when you couldn’t smell the lingering odiferous toilet stink.

I followed Smegma, skirting between the houses, which had Goblins inside. We made it past about ten of the structures and I was just congratulating myself on my ability to sneak silently, when I kicked a rock, bouncing it off of a ‘hut’ and into the brownish white water of the stream. I summoned my Mining Pick into my hands, and clenched the handle tight.

No change happened. No grunting shouts, or guttural cries of alarm sounded. I looked around me, and saw four White Goblin heat outlines in stone huts, all within ten meters. What in the hell?

Smegma of course was nearby and saw the entire ‘mishap’ and my reaction to it. “Did you think you were being extra sneaky? You sound like a baby giant taking his first steps, idiot! Just listen to your own breathing for a second.”

I did so and instantly felt my face flush with embarrassment. Surely I hadn’t sounded like a smithies bellows the entire time?

“You did, the creatures in the huts are just decoration. Free Monster Cores if Hunters want them, but if you go in there they will fight, so don’t delude yourself about your own combat abilities. Getting injured would be a bad thing.” Smegma’s black eyes regarded me seriously, telling me that this wasn’t meant as an insult. Was it… coaching?

“Up ahead there are four warriors guarding the largest hut. Inside, there is a three legged chair and a stone dais. I assume that’s where the altar is. Sneaking won’t get us inside. It’s time to fight—do you understand?”

My hands re-clenched around the haft of the Mining Pick, having slackened after my realization that I wasn’t about to be assaulted by a village-worth of Goblins. I took a deep breath, gave a small nod but simultaneously said, [I can’t win against four.]

“I know that, and despite what I just said, that doesn’t mean you can’t surprise them. They are guards, and they are stationed in front of the two entrances to the stone hut. The hut itself is large enough that they can’t see each other. If you look right about here, you should see the first pair.” Smegma hovered slightly to his right and then pointed to empty air beside him.

Sure enough I could see two humanoid outlines of heat standing about four feet apart. Behind them I could just vaguely see two smaller shapes, standing in a similar pattern behind the first two. The fact that they were on the very edge of my Heat Vision spoke to just how large the leader’s hut was.

Knowing my targets gave me a single wave of terror that wriggled and morphed as my Mental Fortitude began planning in its wake. Surely, I could charge at the White Goblin pair and dispatch one of the two—then it would just be a one on one, which I might win…

The Goblins had spears, and I had a Mining Pick—wait—why I had pulled the pick out and not the Spear stolen from the Goblin at the Lake? I could only blame it on fear. I swapped the ‘weapons’ and got a nod of confirmation from Smegma.

Now, if I charged—

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Smegma interrupted my planning with a strategy of his own that nearly matched mine. “Rush the nearest of the two and attempt to pierce it with your spear. Then release the weapon and pull out your Pick. Do not, try to retrieve the spear for the next fight. It is built horribly, and the head is too rough to pull back out of a foe. Stab and release—understand? Grab one of their spears if you need to.”

I nodded, even as my wide-eyes took in the misshapen head of the spear. How come I hadn’t noticed that? My calm and logical brain pointed out my inexperience in combat, as if I wasn’t already acutely aware of it. Then again I guess I had kind of asked the question.

Smegma thankfully continued, interrupting my internal thought spiral. “After the first one is injured—don’t count on killing it. If you do, great. If not, it still should be out of the fight. On the second one, remember your advantage. You have a high rank Recovery Skill, the Strength of a High F-grade combatant, and the Stamina of a lower-Mid-F. Use them. Swing as hard as you can, and just avoid taking a fatal blow. Let your Recovery and Stamina tank the injuries—okay?”

I gave him another nod, but found Smegma’s look of earnest coaching shifted to confusion and then incredulity. Finally the Demon added, “No time like the husking present, Brodie.”

Oh. Oh! I managed to think to myself even as I nodded a third time.

I had a plan, now it was just time to act. I took a deep breath, and loaded my knees, flexing my quads and calves. I needed four more deep breaths before I pushed off the ground as hard as I could and charged at the two heat-outlines.

When I was sure that I could see them, without Heat Vision, I deactivated the Skill, and adjusted my aim slightly, realizing I had been about to attack the one that was slightly farther from me, which would have left me more exposed to the one on the right.

My brain whirred in front of my actions, telling me that attacking the one on the right from my right, gave me the cover of the target's body, which might buy me a fraction of a second for the Mining Pick switch.

Between one slapping, sprinting footfall and the next, both Goblins turned, white eyes training on me. In unison they lifted their spear shafts off the ground and began to level them in my direction. They were too late. I only had two steps remaining, if I continued my current run.

I didn’t.

I lunged forward, pushing off of my back leg, and driving the stone spear head at the center mass of the right-most Goblin. Unfortunately, my hasty plan to attack from the right wasn't possible thanks to my commitment to the attack, and the way the right Goblin stepped back while the left Goblin stepped forward. But other than those initial reactive-steps, neither of them really managed much more. They did get their spear tips to drop to about seventy degrees but then my own weapon slammed home.

I thought I was ready for the blow, having attacked a Stone Golem before. However, what had amounted to a baseball bat swing with a pick against a stone was nothing like a spear thrust to flesh. Even if the spearhead I was using was rather dull.

There was a split second of resistance, where my hands and arms were forced to flex, before I felt the spear continue past the things skin and into a new fleshy medium, with just slightly more resistance than the air.

I instantly released the haft and summoned my Mining Pick, shifting my weight right, and away from the left Goblin Guard. My peripherals registered something odd flying out of the Goblin and rushed into the hut, but I ignored the strange little light, because whatever it was—moved away and through the hut door with speed.

I’d have time for that after dispatching guard number two.

“Don’t retreat, just swing!” Smegma shouted. Causing my lean to the right to falter for a moment. The spear was coming down, though. Every fiber of my being wanted to jump back, but I managed to arrest my momentum with a side-step.

Thanks to my momentum and attempt to jump, I also loaded that leg. With all the strength I had I pushed back against my own weight, and simultaneously swung my pick, bladed side first, at the Goblin.

The spear was aimed and the Goblin was lunging. The point, coming straight at my heart. Still, I was in side-profile to the blow? My heart wasn’t easily accessible from that angle. I crunched my lower back and abdomen away from the spearhead, which pulled in my chest a few inches as well.

The stone point of the spear hit the meat of my left deltoid, and then pectoral, leaving behind it a searing, tearing agony, right until the dullness of the stone edge was forced away from my body from skin resistance.

It was then that my Mining Pick collided with the hip of the leading leg of the White Goblin. My aim was either never good to begin with or my adjustments meant to dodge its blow had thrown it off course. I prepared myself to pull back and exchange another round of strikes—when the blade of the pick sank through the meat, crunched past the hip bone, traveled past more meat, before finally stopping at the other side of the hip.

It also lifted the Goblin off the ground, leaving me semi-supporting the bulk of the creature on the end of my Pick. It didn’t last long as my momentum died and my arm muscles bore the entire load. Still, I discovered if I truly wanted to, I could probably lower the creature softly to the stone floor.

However, that was something I didn’t want. In fact, I wanted my damn weapon back. There were three other—

“Two others. Trade the Pick for the Spear it just dropped. The next two are rushing through the hut, now!” Smegma commanded.

It felt like it took me too long to do as instructed, but my clenched hands did let go of my pick. Then I scanned the ground to find the spear a few feet to my left and in front of me—where my chest and deltoid had deflected it.

Two steps later I had the spear, and found myself staring at two white ghostly outlines growing in size as they charged me, spears leveled in front of them. It looked the way I imagined I had one my first surprise strike.

But now I was facing two of them, and they were forewarned—

“Stop!” Smegma shouted. “Did you see what happened to the hips of the second guard? It’s dying right now because you are several times stronger than it. Don’t panic. Move to the right behind the wall—force them to round the corner.”

I jerked in surprise at the Demon’s volume, but managed to interpret the instructions, despite my body still attempting to freeze in abject fear. Growling I forced my legs to listen, and took five quick shuffles to my right to get behind the sloppily stacked stones of the hut.

Only then did I manage a single inhalation—then I saw a spearhead pass through the opening and there was no more time to collect myself. I pulled back the haft of my spear, and loaded my right leg, which was staggered behind my left in a boxer’s stance—meaning my chest was facing the stone, where my front would be most protected.

At the first sign of white skin, I was thrusting the spear forward again like I was a seasoned veteran. The spearhead sank directly into the abdomen of the closest Goblin before it could even get a second step out the door. Of course, that left me without a weapon, unless I pulled this thrust—

“No!” Smegma shouted. “Better to fight barehanded, then try to retrieve the spear. Push harder, and try to overbalance the one behind. Then release and start stomping or punching.”

I followed Smegma’s instructions and shuffled my back leg to my front and heaved. My Strength sent the stabbed Goblin into the air, and its body did collide with the second Guard. I wasn’t sure what Smegma had intended specifically with this tactic, but I knew now that I was hoping that the second Goblin would somehow be trapped under the first.

The remaining Goblin was sent sprawling to my left, falling to its knees before catching itself, while the body of the first was sent spinning across the stone floor. I released the spear, as instructed, and attempted to organize my feet so I could kick at the kneeling creature. “No! Punch! Dammit!”

Smegma’s instructions this time didn’t help, in fact they might have made it worse as I tried and failed to follow them. I was just preparing a kick, and tried to turn that into a punch, but ended up just falling atop the White Goblin Guard.

I didn’t even land on the back of the monster, instead, I’d given it enough time to drop its spear and spin. I felt one of its hands close around my forearm as another attempted to reach for my throat.

My awkward fall, and the fulcrum of its hand on my wrist made that second grasping mitt punch me in the chest, re-aggravating my chest and shoulder wound. With only one free hand, and the imminent risk of strangulation, I latched onto the things’ forearm myself. Its forearm felt like a human leg, under my fingers.

Something crunched, and for a moment I held my breath expecting pain, but only felt something press into my chest. Next, I heard Smegma scoff, clearly displeased with something. Still, in theory I was in what Hunter Mixed Martial Arts called, mount, wasn’t I? My head was close to the White Goblin’s chest and my legs were wrapped around his hips and legs. Trying to control the creature. Still, I doubted that the White Goblin was about to pull guard.

Then as we struggled against each other, I realized why Smegma hadn’t wanted me to grab the second wrist. We were now both awkwardly pushing and pulling each other's arms as we tried to gain an advantage—and I couldn’t release the arm I held to throw a punch, because that would free his clawed hand to gouge at me. But if I had initially thrown a punch I may have ended the fight right there.

Knees from below attempted to hammer at me, but I managed to keep the wrap of my own legs around the thighs of the Goblin, which only highlighted his superior height and weight. I was now stretched out atop the creature. Thanks to my Strength Stat, I was safe from being attacked, but I was also incapable of attacking.

“You’ve got to cede control of the legs or the arm. Choose, and strike. Otherwise, you’ll be stuck like this until one of you tires out,” Smegma assessed after several long moments of grunting from the Goblin and myself.

Even with my Stamina Stat unlocked I was breathing heavily trying to control this beast. Smegma was right, I needed to release control of something. I took a deep stuttering breath through my mouth, attempting not to smell the disgusting flesh of the creature my face was nearly pressed into. Then I decided on legs.

Why legs?

Well, if I was fast enough, I could release my hold there, jump up and drive the knees into the creature's abdomen. I figured it would find it hard to retaliate with two knees in its stomach. Once I thought I was ready. I followed through with the plan.

It worked even better in reality. Thanks in large part to the Goblin’s knees rising up in an attempt to buck the hold that no longer existed. Those knees propelled me into the air, straining and stretching my arms straight. Smiling I heaved with both of my arms, pulling myself down while my knees slammed together and became a wedge shape.

My aim was off, slightly, and one knee hit the solar plexus while the other crashed into the sternum. I felt a jolt of force, traveling up my knees, thigh and back. Pain followed, telling me I had likely broken a bone or the skin or both—but I also descended almost a foot farther than the initial point of impact.

My knees had caved in the White Goblins chest, and crushed its heart.

When I attempted to stand up, I discovered that the pain, at least in part, was from where the Goblin’s broken ribs had gouged my knees, and legs, rather badly.

Extricating my own limbs required me to pull out those bone fragments from my own legs. Which finally caused the vomit that had been threatening since entering the Village to spill from my mouth.

“Well, that certainly wasn’t good—“ Smegma stated. “Still, you’re alive and they’re dead—so, congratulations?”

His tone managed to get me to look at him. He wore a smirk that I didn’t like. He was basically saying I’d got lucky—even though I knew he was right, I growled, “Get husked!”