Martha let loose a wailing shriek as she watched her Husband fall onto the coach seat. Though in her grief, she still had the presence of mind to cling to Merry as the latter tried to claw her way out of her mother's grasp in a desperate bid to reach her father.
"Father! Father! Let go, let GO! We have to help!"
Merry screamed, wiggling as she tried to escape her mother's grasp, but Martha's grip was ironclad, though her eyes never left the still form of Thomas. The young girl continued to struggle, tears flowing down her face as the sounds of battle continued outside, when whatever was standing on the carriage stomped down, hard, cracking one of the support ribs.
The carriage shook and wobbled, and just as Martha's grip loosened, the little girl slipped free. Merry rushed towards the front of the carriage, reaching for her father's form, her mother hot on her trail. As she neared the exit, however, the thing on top of the carriage followed close behind.
Both were silent as their eyes followed the bulge as it moved along the canvas. Slowly, it approached the front of the carriage, near where the young girl knelt, wide-eyed and shivering, desperately trying to quiet her voice. There was silence for a short moment as the thing on top of the carriage stood still.
Then, as quick as lightning, a long sinewy arm, its green skin lightly coated with white hair, reached into the opening from the top of the carriage. A large 4 fingered hand, fingered tipped with cracked, brown nails, widely swiped through the air before latching firmly into the young girl's shoulder-length hair.
Merry screamed, striking and kicking at the limb as it began to drag the small girl forward toward the opening. But the thing's grip was too firm, the creature too strong, and the little 7-year-old girl couldn't escape.
With a burst of speed that surprised even herself, Merry's mother crossed the carriage and wrapped an arm around the young girl's waist as the other desperately tried to pry the girl's hair free from the thing's vice-like grip.
As the two struggled against it, the thing on top of the carriage grunted in frustration. After a moment, the thing stopped its pulling and slightly loosened its grip. Martha's hope soared at the change and braced herself against the carriage wall in one final attempt to pry her daughter free. Her heart dropped the next moment, as the sound of a blade leaving its sheath.
Martha paused, her eyes growing wide. Slowly, she looked down at her tiny daughter and gave her a gentle, warm smile that opposed the tears welling up in her eyes. Time seemed to stand still in that moment for Merry, as the sound of the conflict and the chill of the night faded away, leaving behind only Martha's warm smile and gentle hug.
Martha's smile turned sad as the world started to move once more. With a twist, she wrenched Merry free from the thing's grasp and tossed her towards the carriage exit.
"Run!"
As Merry tumbled through the air, the last thing she saw before being tossed into the night was a rusty sword tearing through the canvas top and into her mother's back.
Merry hit the ground with a thud and rolled several feet away from the carriage. Winded and struggling to stand on shaking legs, Merry coughed, her mind still reeling, not wanting to come to terms with what had just happened. She turned to move back towards the carriage with tear-filled eyes, but what she saw made her stop cold.
Though the dim twilight made the shadows in the carriage too deep to anything out, the slow trickle of red leaking from the back told her everything she needed to know. Her vision blurring from tears and her head dizzy, Merry fell to her knees and wailed.
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A figure leaped from the top of the carriage with a soft thud, landing in front of the crying girl. Merry barely noticed, her eyes glassing over as they stared in shock into the shadows. The creature stopped in front of the small girl, then after a second of silence, as if savoring her sorrow, it reached down its ugly hand, violently pulling the girl up by her hair.
Merry screamed once more, finally turning her eyes to meet those of the thing before her.
It had long sinewy limbs and mottled dark green skin, perfect for climbing and moving in the treetops. Sparse white hair covered its body, giving it a flickering appearance, like light filtering through the leaves. Its eyes were large and dark, capturing the tiniest bit of movement and light. While it was relatively short compared to an adult human, it was still nearly twice Merry's size, and its large gaping mouth, designed only for meat, nearly split its small head in two as it grinned from large pointed ear to ear.
'Forest Goblin!'
That was the name that popped up in her mind as she saw the bizarre creature before her. While not as strong as their Mountain cousins or as fast as those in the Plains, Forest Goblins were intelligent and agile. They were vicious, predatory monsters who saw other races as nothing more than food.
Compared to the other goblin races, the thing that separated Forest Goblins was their high intelligence, able to prepare complex traps and strategies, even forge their own weapons and tools. In some parts of the world, their intelligence was so widely recognized that some even called "Tree Elves." Although if you ever called them that in the presence of a True Elf, you would pay a heavy price.
Looking around the area, Merry could see the result of the battle; several dozen Forest Goblin bodies lay scattered around the ground, some long dead, others with not long left. Merry could even see the Hero fighting a small group of 6-7 remaining goblins a short distance away.
He was heavily outnumbered, though, and with each passing moment, more and more damage began to accumulate. Even one as young as Merry could see that he wouldn't last much longer if things stayed as they were.
"Gre Gre Gre Gre!!"
The Forest Goblin holding her up by the hair, laughed as it looked towards the struggling Hero. The Forest Goblin held Merry up to eye level, its evil grin splitting its face from ear to ear. It opened its large, cavernous, razor-sharp teeth-filled mouth and extended a long black tongue that gently licked away the tears on her face.
A look of ecstasy forming in its half-closed eyes as it laughed again.
Seeing the joy filling the Goblin's eyes, a deep rage filled the tiny girl's chest as she screamed out, no longer in fear but a deep, burning hatred.
Merry thrashed and flail about, desperately trying to do any amount of damage to the creature with her frail strength.
Laughing as though watching the funniest thing it could conceive, the Goblin did not even try and stop her. Finally running out of steam, Merry let her arms hang down as she breathed heavily. Looking the Goblin in the eyes with deep, seething anger, bile welled up in her throat, and with a coarse sound, she spat it into the laughing Goblin's face.
The Goblin fell quiet, its eyes growing cold and its face expressionless as it sheathed its sword, still dripping with Martha's blood. It used its free hand to wipe away the spittle before looking down. It stared at it in its hand for a moment, as if in contemplation, and then gently placed the girl on the ground.
Confused, Merry stood in shock, not even thinking to run, when in the next moment, the Goblin balled its bony fist and slammed it into the left side of the small girl's face.
Merry only heard a small pop as the left side of her vision went dark before she was sent flying several feet away. She moaned in pain, struggling to rise as a sickly warmth flowed down her face and neck.
Merry watched in fear as the Goblin slowly walked towards her. It was no longer smiling inched closer and closer, once more drawing the bloodstained blade. Merry fell to her back in resignation, unable to tell if her face was wet with tears or blood and no longer carrying. Instead, a strange peace flooded her soul.
As the menacing form, the Goblin stopped beside her, blade raised, staring down at her with an eerie calm. But as Merry's vision began to darken, all she saw was her mother and father smiling at her in her mind's eye.
Suddenly, there was the sound of a snapping branch, and the Goblin's eyes shot up, looking past her. Merry could only feel a slight breeze as a dark shadow shot past, slamming heavily into the Forest Goblin, sending it flying several feet. The Goblin stood up; it looked at the shadow and screamed in rage.
The last thing Merry remembered before her passing out was the shadow looking down at her, a strange light in its eyes, like a tiny candle flickering in a field of darkness.