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She looked around, and other than herself and the forest, she saw nothing of note. Even the chest and torches had vanished between one second and the next. Woods, in general, were no mystery to her, so she knew step one should be taking stock of what she had on hand.
She was wearing a sturdy brown dress, a white linen apron, and a bonnet. There was her frying pan, which in addition to cooking with, could sub as a stout iron cudgel. She had tons of spices as well. What she lacked were staples to put into the pan.
The creek was a clear first choice. She would need water, and the best chance at protein would be fish. Though she lacked anything to easily catch fish with, that would be her next challenge. The stream was on the small side, more of a brook rolling over stones than water deep enough for large fish to swim in. The good news is that it was flowing rapidly, which meant it was likely safe to drink.
Betty knelt at the water's edge and took a sip. The water was cold and refreshing, but she had not taken into account the exceptional length of her new nose. Long before her lips reached the stream's surface, the tip of her pointed nose bumped into a submerged rock, and water found its way into her elongated nostrils.
Snorting and coughing, Betty sat back on her heels, blowing out the water in a very unladylike manner. When she had cleared her sinuses, she gathered herself a new drink to ease her now sore throat using the iron pan. A pot would have been more efficient for carrying liquid in, but her handy skillet was just fine for a drink.
Thinking about food had set her tiny stomach rumbling. The stream was not empty. She could see minnows about flickering in the eddies. The question would be how to catch them. She was not yet hungry enough to try and convert her apron into a net. The pan might scoop one occasionally. Then, using her heating magic, she could cook them right up.
As Betty had this thought, she wondered if she could reorder the process. What if she used her new Sizzler magic to boil the water and snag the cooked fish before they were washed downstream?
It was worth a shot. She walked along the bank until she found a decent-sized pool. The water was slow enough here that her cooked catch shouldn’t be swept away faster than she could grab it.
Now, it was just a matter of calling on the fire hiding inside her.
Betty focused on the water and tried to heat it up. After a few minutes without success, she realized the water she was trying to heat up was being pushed downstream before she could make it hot enough to cook the fish.
Retargeting her fire, Betty picked a large rock on the bottom of the pool and sent her scalding magic into it. She had to get her hand wet since the spell wouldn’t reach the rock until her fingers were a few inches away, but this choice proved far more effective. In seconds, the water began to steam and bubble. A couple of dozen minnows floated to the surface, as well as a handful of crawfish as a bonus. Very pleased, Betty gathered her catch and placed them into her pan. She found a pinch of simple salt in the very front pocket and sprinkled it across her meal. Holding her pan level, she placed her other hand underneath the skillet and tried to grill the unevenly cooked meal.
Yet try as she might, she could not summon fire again. It just wasn’t there anymore; that sense of warmth she had been carrying around inside her was gone.
“Two uses,” she muttered to herself. “Well, that’s a bit disappointing. I wonder if it’ll come back.”
She snacked on the crawfish tails and the cooked small fish. She tossed away those that were still mostly raw rather than ready. On the positive side, her tiny new body filled up quickly. Even if she had more magical heat, she would have had more food than she could eat.
Confident she wasn’t in danger of starving, Betty decided to head off and find others. Following the stream was just simple wilderness common sense. Turning downstream, she started walking on her little goblin legs. As she hiked, it occurred to her she didn’t know who she would rather encounter. The heroes in Billy’s games killed goblins whenever they met. On the other hand, goblins did not seem like the type of people Betty would want to be with.
As she replayed various scenarios of each type of encounter in her head, her nose informed her that there was smoke on the wind. It was faint but unmistakable. She kept trekking forward, expecting the source of the biting scent to reveal itself at any second, given how strong the smell was. Yet she ended up walking quite a distance without any sign of the smoke’s origin appearing among the trees.
She trekked long enough that as she jumped down a small ledge, she felt her fire inside return to her. The magic flowed back into her body, filling her with a sense of warmth and readiness. A minute later, as a road came into view between the trunks of the old forest, she felt her inner fire redouble. She knew she must have both of her heating uses back.
She stopped on the thick wooded slope, trying to figure out the why behind her magic’s return. Her best guess was time. It was hard to be sure how long she had been walking, but Betty had always had a pretty good internal clock. She never wore a watch, yet she always knew when Billly’s bus was coming, or Jason was overdue. Her personal timer told her an hour had passed since she stopped at the pool. It seemed to her a good guess that she would be able to use her fire magic twice every hour.
As she approached the tree line, her eyes began to water. The sunlight on the small country road was painfully bright. She winced and ducked her head, peeping through her half-closed lids. This was worse than when the eye doctor dilated her eyes. They gave her a pair of huge, unflattering sunglasses, which made the bright light bearable. Betty would have gladly worn the ugly things now if she had them. Looking behind her, the thick forest was clear as day, but on the road, the day itself was a tear-inducing blur.
She stepped back and listened to the sounds on the road, hoping her eyes would soon adjust to the brightness.
“Quit yer sniveling, ya brats,” a harsh voice barked. “My orders are to bring you to General Galerus alive, but I can still hand out a sound whooping if you three don’t button those lips. Just sit there and shut up. We’re moving out in a few minutes.”
The sound of children whimpering reached Betty’s ears, and she was appalled. Her fire magic raged in conjunction with her furious temper. How dare someone treat children that way! She was about to charge down there and give the bullying lout a piece of her mind when a small voice hissed from a few feet away.
Thankfully, the sound came from the soft shadows under the trees, not the blinding open sky. Her mind registered that she was seeing something in a bit of shrubbery, but try as she might, she could not make out what it was until suddenly, the mottled pattern resolved itself into another goblin. The squat green creature was even smaller than she was. It must be another child.
Betty could not fathom how all these children were unsupervised in the woods, and she did not at all consider the harsh man a caretaker in any way.
She carefully snuck over to the young goblin, trying to be as quiet as possible so the angry man would not hear her. To her surprise, her feet made not a single noise across the leaf-littered ground. Betty had always envied Morty’s ability to walk silently in the woods, but until this moment, it had always been a skill she lacked.
As she reached the young green girl, she noticed a small square hovering before the youth. It looked like what she had seen when she looked at the frying pan and belt for the first time. Focusing on the block, a window opened, and Betty was able to read some information about the child.
Forest Goblin
LEVEL: 1
MIGHT: Weak (1)
HEALTH: Weak (1)
DEFENSE: Weak (1)
MAGIC #: Weak (1)
SPEED: Moderate (2)
AWARENESS: Moderate (2)
TRAITS (Goblin):
Sneaky: Good (3) bonus to hiding or sneaking
Shadowsight: Sight favors dim light
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Keen Senses: Improved Hearing & Smell
Spell Stab #: Moderate (2) damage bonus to one physical attack
She would need Billy to explain most of what that meant, but the fact that the girl goblin had one made Betty wonder if she also possessed an information sheet. Looking at her hand, she tried to find the little rectangle. While she did not seem to be able to find her own little floating square, Betty realized that the act of wanting to view her information was the impetus needed to open her open page.
Forest Goblin Griller
CLASS: Sizzler 1
MIGHT: Prestigious (5) *
HEALTH: Weak (1)
DEFENSE: Weak (1)
MAGIC #: Moderate (2)
SPEED: Moderate (2)
AWARENESS: Moderate (2)
TRAITS (Goblin):
Sneaky: Good (3) bonus to hiding or sneaking
Shadowsight: Sight favors dim light
Keen Senses: Improved Hearing & Smell
Spell Stab #: Moderate (2) damage bonus to one physical attack
TRAITS (Sizzler):
Adept: Improved Magic (1)
Heat #: A Size 1 or smaller object in immediate range deals up to Good (3) damage for 1 minute
Ignite #: Create a small flame that can be launched at a target in medium range, doing Weak (1) damage
ITEMS:
Sturdy Iron Skillet: Increased durability, +20% Knockback
Hearty Girdle of Zest: Giant Strength *, Master Chef
“Well, I’ll be,” Betty breathed quietly, still hearing the sound of the man on the road brow-beating his victims. Her information was similar but even more complicated than that of the little green girl.
Maybe the child would be able to explain what all these descriptions meant to Betty, but first, she had to do something about that man.
“Hello,” Betty whispered, ducking behind the foliage, attempting to stay as hidden as the girl. “Are you all right?”
“Yes, Priestess. I sorry. Didn’t know you were touched by Hschk. You looked like you were about to go into the bright and be killed by Goblin Slayer.”
There were so many things Betty did not understand about those sentences. She wasn’t a priestess, and who was Hschk? Was the man the Goblin Slayer, or did the girl mean something else?
“Well, I have to go help those children down there,” she replied.
“The human children? In the light? Why?” The small goblin girl sounded utterly perplexed.
“That man is mistreating them,” Betty stated as if that should answer everything, but the girl’s eyes, which were still stretched wide, failed to show any sign of comprehension. Betty’s earlier contemplations had conceived the scenario where she would meet a human warrior only to be attacked for the simple fact she was a goblin. Getting him to stop abusing those children would never come into play before she was already in danger herself. “Alright, dear. What do you think we should do?”
“We wait for human killers to leave. Then go and find what left behind. If we find good, we get food tonight.”
“Your people don’t feed you unless you scavenge something?” Betty asked, appalled.
“Our nest small now. The human boss and slayers killed many goblins. Only get food if bring good stuff. Boss gonna move us away if he gets enough stuff to buy passage through monster lands around us. I just wait for bright to go away.”
Now, Betty was starting to understand some of the oddities she was experiencing - the first being her vision. That must be what Shadowsight meant. Under the thick canopy of the ancient forest, the lighting should be gloomy and full of shadows but Betty could see clear as a bell. On the other hand, the direct sunlight on the road made it almost impossible for her to see much beyond blurry shapes and bright reflections.
“So, how are we going to help those children?”
“You can’t. Even in forest, human too dangerous,” the girl stated fearfully. “In the bright, Priestess has no chance.”
“Just call me Betty, dear. What’s your name?”
“I Wik.”
“Nice to meet you, Wik. Well, I can’t leave those kids in that man’s hands,” she stated. “How would you like to help me? All I need you to do is when I whistle, you throw a rock or make a big noise or something. I’ll do the rest.”
“In the bright?”
“No, no. We will lure him under trees where we can see better than he can.” She hoped that was true. It was hard to tell how dark it was in the thick old forest since she could see everything so clearly. Even so, at worst case, they would be on even footing.
The goblin girl, Wik, looked dubious but nodded.
Betty had a plan. She still needed to figure out many of the things on her description sheet, but the first step would depend on whether her [Ignite] could reach the man from the treeline and draw him into the woodlands. She crept down toward the road, wincing as the light grew brighter. By the time she was at the last of the trees, her eyes were watering terribly. Taking a minute of squatting and squinting on the forest’s edge, Betty waited until her vision cleared enough. Everything still had a wavery haze about it, like a heat mirage, but she could understand the basics of what she was looking at.
There were two wagons, one of which was canted at a tilt due to a broken wheel. Strewn around the ground were several bodies, some small and green, the others large and pink. It looked as though a band of goblins had attacked the wagon. Three children were shackled together by their ankles, and the chain was affixed to the ruined cart.
The man was the worst to look at, as he was wearing polished metal armor that threw stabbing shards of light at Betty. He seemed to be making trips, carrying boxes from the back of the fractured wagon to the good one. Betty could not tell how many crates the man had left to move, but the odds were good that he would take the children to wherever that General was once he was done shifting the cargo.
That fate seemed to terrify the youths. Betty’s exceptional hearing could pick up the young whispers. One boy was trying to calm a younger child fairly successfully. He was either a natural leader or the oldest of the three. The other two, a boy named Burt and a girl named Namia, deferred to their leader, young Atty. Betty felt a gut punch when she realized that the parents of the family were the two pink blurs lying not fifteen feet away from their children.
Not wanting to wait any longer, Betty initiated her plan. As the glittering soldier crossed in front of where she was hiding, Betty summoned a small ball of flames into her palm and sent it chasing after the man.
“What in Grazu’s Hell!” the man shouted, spinning to find the source of the attack. Betty almost lost her nerves and hunkered down behind the tree, but she couldn’t leave the children behind. Instead, she purposefully stuck her head out further.
“You little bitch,” the warrior roared, dropping the box and charging at her. Betty turned and bolted deeper into the trees. “You’re gonna regret that when I get my hand on you. You’re worth almost as much as one of them brats.”
Betty spotted the brush she had planned to use and dove under its leaves, trying her damndest to hide in the hollow between the spindly trunks. A sword hacked off the top of the shrubs, allowing the warrior to peer down through the branches looking for her. Slipping her pointer and thumb into her mouth of sharp teeth, Betty blew a loud whistle.
“There ya are. Come here ya, green rotter,” the knight growled.
As the man’s gauntleted hand descended toward her, a loud clang rang out. The warrior’s hand retreated to hold his helmeted head after Wik’s thrown rock struck it like a gong. Betty used the distraction to extend her arm until it was a few inches from the man’s thigh. After releasing her second dose of the fire magic into the plate of metal covering the warrior’s upper leg, she dove out of the bushes and around the next tree.
“Yer not gonna get away that … Hey. Ow. OH. OW! GRAZU’S BALLS! What in blazes … OW!” the soldier howled. He began tearing at the metal thigh-guard, trying to get it away from his skin. Drawing a dagger from his belt, he looked like he planned to cut it free.
Betty was not about to give him a chance. She picked up a good-sized rock she had seen next to where she had placed her frying pan and hurled it at the screeching bully. As the man was dancing around, her throw barely connected, glancing off the man. Surprisingly, though, it had a much more profound effect than Wik’s direct blow to his head.
The stone crashed into the warrior’s upper arm, crushing the metal shoulder guard and spinning the knight off his feet. It was as if the man had been hit by a cannonball. He landed in a loud, clanking heap.
Before he could rise, Betty scooped up her pan and dashed over to where he lay. She swung once, giving it all she had. The pan drove into the helmet, splitting it enough to allow the heavy skillet to crunch into the flesh and bone under the broken steel.
Horrified, Betty dropped the cast-iron handle and retched minnows and crayfish on the roots by her feet. Wiping her mouth with the corner of her apron, she noted one of those floating squares. Not wanting to look at the ghastly remains of the man, she gave the box her attention.
You have defeated a [Steelback Slayer] - Level 7. You have gained a level
There was more information there, but Betty’s very acute nostrils were shouting at her to move away vile scents of blood, brains, and fishy vomit. She managed to overcome her nausea enough to grab her pan, before retreating to where Wik was waiting with her mouth hanging open.
The hero worship beaming from Wik’s small green face left Betty in a baffled emotional state. She knew it was possible she might have to kill to save those children, but she was in no way ready for the severity of damage she had just done to a human being. Betty breathed out several long breaths and focused on just one half of that equation. She had saved the children.
Repeating the words like a mantra, Betty gestured for Wik to follow and headed back toward the burning bright and the three bound captives.