Thanks to the speeder bike, we arrived at the village in just a couple of hours. We had to navigate through the thick foliage of the forest, avoiding the main road to ensure we didn't attract unwanted attention. The dense trees and underbrush made the journey slower than anticipated, but the bike handled it well, weaving through the natural obstacles with ease.
As we break through the last of the forest, the village of Greenhill comes into view. It is a quaint, picturesque settlement nestled in a lush valley, surrounded by rolling fields of crops and grazing livestock. The fields were a vibrant green, filled with various crops and vegetables. The livestock—an assortment of animals I've never seen before—roamed freely, adding to the pastoral charm of the village.
The village itself is composed of small, well-kept cottages with thatched roofs and stone foundations. Smoke rises from the chimneys, hinting at the warm hearths inside. The roads are dirt paths, well-trodden by the villagers going about their daily routines. Flowers and shrubs decorate the front yards of the cottages, and the scent of fresh bread and blooming flowers filled the air. We hide the speeder and approach the village.
We were immediately greeted by the villagers, who seemed both surprised and relieved at our swift arrival. Their faces lit up with gratitude as they approached us, offering smiles and polite gestures. A few children, curious about our arrival, peeked from behind their parents, eyes wide with wonder.
An elderly man steps forward, leaning on a wooden cane. His eyes were bright with relief. "Welcome to Greenhill, travelers. By your appearance I assume you two are the adventurers who have accepted our quest. We didn't expect you to arrive so quickly, but we're grateful for your help."
"Thank you," I reply, nodding politely. "We're here to help with your goblin problem."
The villagers lead us through the heart of the village, towards the town hall. It is a modest building, larger than the surrounding cottages but still quaint. The town hall was constructed of sturdy stone, with a sloping roof and a large wooden door. Ivy climbed the walls, and the windows are adorned with wooden shutters painted a cheerful blue.
As we approach the town hall, I take in the surroundings, noting the peaceful atmosphere despite the recent troubles. The villagers continue to express their gratitude, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of responsibility to help these kind-hearted people.
We step inside the town hall, the interior cool and welcoming. The walls are lined with simple wooden benches, and at the far end of the room stands a large oak desk, where Elder Garrick waits for us. He is a tall, thin man with a kind but weathered face, his eyes showing the wisdom of many years.
"Welcome, adventurers," Elder Garrick says, standing to greet us. "I am Garrick, the Elder of this village. We are grateful for your swift arrival. Please, have a seat, and we can discuss the details of your mission."
As Apollo and I take our seats, I glance around the town hall, absorbing the sense of community and hope that permeates the room. We introduce ourselves to Elder Garrick and await his explanation of their situation.
Elder Garrick takes a deep breath, his expression serious as he begins to explain the situation. "It started a few weeks ago," he says, his voice steady but tinged with worry. "At first, the goblins were just stealing crops from our fields. We thought it was a nuisance, but nothing we couldn't handle. Then they grew bolder."
His eyes darken as he continues. "They began taking our livestock. Chickens, goats, even a few cows. We tried to protect our animals, but the goblins were relentless. But lately... it's gotten worse. They kidnapped one of our own."
The room falls silent as the gravity of the situation sinks in. A villager approaches Apollo and me, offering us something to drink. Apollo politely declines, but I accept, curious about the local beverage. The drink is a dark, frothy liquid, served in a wooden mug. I take a cautious sip, finding the taste bitter and unfamiliar. But after a few more sips, I begin to appreciate its unique flavor, a blend of earthy and slightly sweet notes.
Garrick's expression grows dark, his voice heavy with concern. "The girl they took is Lara. She's my daughter," he says, and the weight of his words hangs heavily in the air. I can see the pain in his eyes, despite his attempts to keep his composure. "She's been missing for two nights now."
I watch him carefully, sensing the deep sorrow and fear he's struggling to contain. He continues, his voice low and filled with grief. "They've grown more violent, more aggressive. We've lost villagers. People taken in the night, and those who try to resist don't survive."
He pauses for a moment, staring down at his hands as they grip the edge of the wooden desk. His knuckles whiten, and I see the trembling tension in them. "Two nights ago, Lara was returning from the fields with a group of farmers. The goblins attacked. They slaughtered the others, left their bodies scattered near the forest." His voice cracks, the pain of a father barely held back. "But Lara... they took her alive."
His eyes meet mine, filled with desperation. "I don't know what they plan to do with her, but I fear the worst. They've never been this bold before, never taken someone like this."
The room feels heavy with silence. Apollo shifts beside me, its mechanical body letting out a soft whir as it moves, the only sound breaking through the tension.
I nod slowly, meeting Garrick's gaze, determined. "We'll bring her back, Elder Garrick," I say, my voice calm but firm. "You have my word."
He pauses, his eyes reflecting a deep sense of responsibility and worry. "I apologize for the low pay for such a dangerous mission," he says, his voice softening. "We wish we could offer more, but our resources are limited."
I shake my head, offering a reassuring smile. "It's alright," I say. "We'll take care of the goblins and bring Lara back safely."
Garrick's eyes shine with gratitude. "Thank you," he says, his voice filled with relief. "Lara means a great deal to this village. She's like family to all of us. The goblins usually come from the forest to the north. They only come out at night, so you'll have to be careful."
I nod, taking another sip of the drink, now finding it quite enjoyable. "We'll head out tonight and see if we can find their camp," I say. "We'll bring Lara back."
Garrick clasps my hand in both of his, his grip firm. "Thank you, truly," he says. "The village is counting on you both."
⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔
Following the villagers' directions, Apollo and I make our way into the dense forest to the north of the village. Once we're sure no one is watching, I activate my gauntlet, and a hologram map of the world appears before us. The map zooms in until the village and the surrounding forest are displayed. Two white dots represent our location amidst the vast greenery.
I point to the map, indicating to Apollo, "This forest is enormous, but the goblins couldn't have come from too far away for these constant attacks and raids. There must be either a hideout or a cave nearby."
After closing the map, we begin walking through the forest, scanning the ground for any signs of tracks or disturbances in the foliage. The forest is thick with underbrush and towering trees, their branches intertwining to form a dense canopy overhead. The air is cool and damp, filled with the earthy scent of moss and decaying leaves. After a few moments of careful searching, I find what we're looking for.
There are signs of a large number of beings moving hastily through the foliage. Branches are snapped, bushes trampled, and the undergrowth disturbed, indicating a path frequently used. The tracks are clear, leading both towards the village and deeper into the forest.
We follow the trail, moving quietly and cautiously. The forest seems to grow darker and more foreboding as we venture deeper. The sounds of distant animals fill the air, creating an eerie ambiance. Finally, the tracks lead us to the mouth of a cave, partially obscured by thick vines and moss. The entrance is dark and ominous, with jagged rocks forming a natural archway.
Apollo and I exchange a glance before stepping into the cave. As we enter, I activate my gauntlet, emitting a bright, steady light, illuminating the path ahead. The cave walls are damp and covered in patches of luminescent fungi, casting an eerie glow. The ground is uneven, with small stones and debris scattered about. The air grows colder, and the sound of dripping water echoes through the cavern.
We move cautiously, the light from Apollo's photoreceptors guiding our way. The cave seems to stretch endlessly into the darkness, and I can't shake the feeling that we're being watched. As we delve deeper into the cave, a horrible stench washes over me, thick and nauseating. The air is heavy with the smell of decay, a putrid mix of rotting flesh and waste. Each step forward makes the odor more intense, making it difficult to breathe without gagging. Signs of activity become more apparent the farther we go. The cave walls are smeared with crude drawings and symbols, and the floor is littered with bones and animal carcasses, some in various stages of decomposition. The scene is grim and unsettling.
Suddenly, a scream pierces the air, followed by the guttural cries of creatures deeper in the cave. Without hesitation, we rush toward the source of the sound. The path forks in multiple directions, but one opening reveals a large chamber below. As Apollo and I approach the opening to the giant chamber, I can see the faint glow of natural light filtering through a small hole in the ceiling. It casts an eerie, dim illumination over the scene below. Peering down, my eyes widen at the sight.
A sprawling goblin village lies beneath us, a chaotic maze of makeshift huts and tents. The structures are crudely built from wood, bones, and animal hides, huddled together in tight clusters. The natural light only partially illuminates the village, leaving many areas shrouded in shadow. Torches flicker throughout the settlement, their flames casting dancing shadows on the rough stone walls.
Peering through small visors, I see a multitude of small, hunched figures with grotesque, misshapen features. They have greenish skin, sharp teeth, and beady eyes that glint in the dim light. They are chanting loudly, standing before a pillar to which a young woman is chained. Her terrified screams echo through the cavern.
Goblins scurry about, their small, hunched figures barely visible in the dim light. The air is thick with the stench of decay and the sound of guttural voices mingling with the occasional scream from their captive girl. She is chained to a pillar in the center of the village, surrounded by a throng of goblins chanting and jeering at her.
Beside the girl stands a larger creature, its voice booming over the din. "Tonight, the gods will be pleased! When the sun shines the highest above, she will be sacrificed!" The creatures react to her screaming, jeering and howling in response.
"Looks like we've found their lair," I mutter, narrowing my eyes as I focus on the scene below.
Apollo's photoreceptors scan the area. "There are too many of them to take head-on," it comments in a low, calculated voice.
I smirk, dismissing Apollo's concern. "I've been looking forward to a fight like this."
Apollo tilts its head in confusion. "Why would you want to take on so many at once?"
My smirk widens into a grin. "I need to blow off some steam."
Without another word, I leap down into the chamber, deploying smoke rockets from my gauntlet as I descend. The bombs hit the ground, erupting with a hiss and spewing thick clouds of smoke that quickly engulf the goblin village. Chaos erupts as the goblins panic, their cries and shouts echoing through the cavern.
⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔
The girl trembles, trying to adjust her body against the chains binding her to the stone pillar, her face wracked with sobs. Each gasp for breath is a desperate plea for mercy, a hope that someone, anyone, will come to her rescue. The goblins surround her, their grotesque faces twisted into malicious grins, snarling and cheering as they revel in her terror. She doesn't understand why they chose her, why she is to be sacrificed.
A larger goblin, even more hideous than the rest, steps forward. His twisted smile reveals rows of sharp, yellowed teeth. He brandishes a large, jagged knife, its blade gleaming ominously in the dim light. The goblin grabs her by the throat, his grip tight and painful. She gags, the stench of his vile breath assaulting her senses as he leans in close.
"You'll make a pretty offering," he hisses, bringing the knife closer to her skin.
Suddenly, smoke begins popping up from the ground, quickly engulfing the entire chamber. The big goblin releases her, stepping back in confusion. She falls back, gasping for air and trying to comprehend what's happening. The thick smoke obscures everything around her, and the goblins' confused grunts and snarls fill the air.
As the smoke clears, two figures stand at the center of the chamber. One is a tall, imposing knight clad in dark armor, his eyes glowing faintly beneath the helmet. The other is a cloaked figure, their face hidden beneath a shadowy hood, a black cloak draped over their form. For a moment, hope surges within her. Maybe they are here to save her. But then she notices the hundreds of goblins surrounding them, snarling and laughing.
The large goblin's laughter rings out, mocking and cruel. "Brave fools, coming here to die!" he sneers.
His laughter is abruptly cut short as the cloaked figure flicks their wrist. The goblin drops dead, a throwing knife embedded in his eye. The other goblins recoil in shock, momentarily stunned.
The cloaked figure and the knight draw their swords. The girl cries out to them, her voice trembling with fear. "You need to run! There are too many of them!"
To her astonishment, the cloaked figure turns to the knight. "Would you like to have a contest?" he asks, his voice calm and almost playful.
The knight responds, "What kind?"
"Whoever kills the most goblins wins," the cloaked figure replies.
She is baffled. How could they be playing games when they are surrounded by a horde of goblins? But there's no time to question their sanity. The knight agrees, and together they face the goblins, ready for battle.
The goblins snarl and lunge forward, their crude weapons raised high. The tall knight moves first, his armor gleaming in the dim light. With a powerful swing of his massive sword, he cleaves through the first wave of attackers. The blade slices through goblin flesh with ease, severing limbs and heads in a swift, deadly arc. The knight's movements are fluid and precise, each strike delivering fatal blows. His gaze scan the battlefield, calculating and adapting to the chaos around him.
Beside him, the cloaked figure moves with incredible speed and agility. The black cloak flutters as he dodges and weaves through the oncoming goblins. His sword flashes, catching the dim light as it cuts through the air. He is a whirlwind of deadly grace, each strike landing with pinpoint accuracy. One goblin falls with a clean cut to the neck, another with a swift stab to the heart. The cloaked figure's movements are almost a dance, a deadly ballet that leaves a trail of dead goblins in its wake.
The girl watches in awe, her terror momentarily forgotten. The two figures fight with a level of skill and precision she has never seen before. The knight's powerful strikes contrast with the cloaked figure's swift, elegant movements. Together, they are unstoppable.
A particularly large goblin charges at the knight, swinging a heavy club. The knight blocks the attack with his sword, the force of the blow causing him to take a step back. Undeterred, he swings his sword in a powerful upward arc, slicing the goblin from hip to shoulder. The goblin lets out a gurgling scream before collapsing to the ground, its lifeblood spilling onto the stone floor.
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The cloaked figure, meanwhile, faces off against a group of goblins wielding spears. They thrust their weapons at him, trying to corner him, but he is too quick. He sidesteps their attacks with ease, his movements a blur. One goblin lunges too far, and the cloaked figure takes advantage, slashing across its exposed side. Another goblin tries to stab him from behind, but he spins around, his sword cutting through the goblin's neck with a single, fluid motion.
The goblins, realizing they are up against formidable opponents, hesitate. But their numbers give them false confidence, and they press on, hoping to overwhelm the two warriors with sheer force. It is a fatal mistake.
The knight plants his feet firmly, raising his sword high. With a mighty swing, he cleaves through three goblins at once, their bodies falling in a gruesome heap. He turns to another group, blocking their attacks with his great sword before cutting them down with a powerful horizontal strike. Blood sprays across his armor, but he doesn't falter.
The cloaked figure is relentless. He moves like a shadow, his black cloak billowing around him. He parries a goblin's strike, then drives his sword through its chest. Another goblin tries to catch him off guard, but he twists out of the way, slashing across its belly. The goblin falls, clutching its entrails as it dies.
As the battle rages on, the two warriors show no signs of slowing. The knight's heavy strikes crush bones and sever limbs, while the cloaked figure's swift, precise movements leave a trail of dead goblins in his wake. The ground is littered with bodies, the air thick with the stench of blood and death.
The girl's heart pounds in her chest as she watches the knight block a particularly fierce attack, the force of the blow causing his armor to creak. But he recovers quickly, pushing the goblin back with his sword before delivering a killing blow. The cloaked figure is just as impressive, his sword a blur of deadly motion. He dispatches goblin after goblin with ease, his movements graceful and deadly.
Finally, the last of the goblins falls. The knight delivers the finishing blow, his sword cutting through the creature's neck. The goblin's head rolls across the floor, its body crumpling to the ground. The chamber falls silent, save for the heavy breathing of the two warriors. The girl stares at them in awe and relief, her heart still racing from the intensity of the battle.
The girl trembles, her body aching from being chained to the cold stone pillar at the center of the cavern. Her breath comes in shallow gasps, her wrists raw from the iron cuffs biting into her skin. Smoke still hangs in the air from the explosions that brought chaos to the goblin village, swirling around the figures of her saviors—the cloaked one and the knight in dark armor. The knight and the cloaked figure stand amidst the carnage, their swords dripping with goblin blood.
She watches them, trying to make sense of it all. The cloaked figure moves with eerie calm, wiping his sword clean with a cloth pulled from one of the dead goblins. His movements are precise, deliberate. The knight stands over the fallen bodies, his massive frame imposing, his glowing eyes casting a faint light that cuts through the gloom.
"What's your count?" the cloaked man asks, his tone casual, almost as if they were discussing something as mundane as the weather.
The knight answers, "One hundred and forty-two."
The cloaked figure whistles in appreciation, still wiping down his blade. "One hundred and forty-two? That's impressive for a newcomer."
Newcomer? The girl's heart races. A newcomer did all this? Her eyes narrow as she looks at them again, her gaze lingering on the guild badges hanging around their necks—bronze, glinting faintly in the dim light. Her eyes widen. Bronze rank?
Her mind struggles to comprehend it. These two—these incredibly skilled warriors who just decimated an entire goblin village—are only bronze rank? She swallows hard, her throat dry. How?
The cloaked man finishes with his sword and pats the knight's armored shoulder, "Well, I stand pretty at one hundred and forty-three," he says lightly. "Better luck next time."
The knight hesitates, then turns and thrusts its sword into a nearby goblin corpse. The blade sinks into the dead flesh with a sickening squelch.
"One hundred and forty-three," the knight says with pride.
The cloaked man tilts his head. "That goblin was already dead."
The knight's glowing eyes shift toward him. "I saw it twitch."
"It twitched because I had stabbed it in its nervous system," the cloaked figure says, amused. "You, my friend, are a sore loser."
The knight lets out a scoff in response, slightly shaking his head in defeat.
The girl can't believe what she's witnessing—two adventurers standing in the middle of a battlefield, surrounded by the corpses of goblins, joking like they're in a tavern. How can they be so at ease after all this?
Her heart pounds in her chest, confusion and awe mixing in equal measure. She tries to find her voice, her throat tight. After a long pause, she finally musters enough courage to speak, her voice trembling. "E-excuse me?"
Both figures turn toward her in unison, their banter falling silent. The cloaked man's face is completely obscured by a shadowy void, despite the light. The knight straightens, its glowing eyes fixed on her, towering like a statue of cold, dark metal.
The girl is thankful, but inside, her mind is racing. They had saved her life, but she now realizes that there's so much more to them—more than their ranks, more than their strange camaraderie. These adventurers, with their banter and their terrifying skill, are something far beyond what she ever could have expected.
She watches the cloaked figure rush over to her, his movements swift and purposeful. He reaches her in no time, breaking the chains that bind her with a deft flick of his wrist. As the chains fall away, she collapses, her legs giving out beneath her. The cloaked figure catches her, his arms strong yet gentle.
"Are you alright?" the cloaked man asks, his voice gentle now, filled with concern.
She nods weakly, still dazed from the ordeal. "Yes, I think so," she manages to say, her voice barely above a whisper.
He helps her sit down on the cold stone floor, offering her a drink from his water pouch. She takes a grateful sip, feeling the cool water soothe her parched throat. As she drinks, her eyes wander to the knight, who is busy cutting off the ears of the fallen goblins. The sight makes her spit out the water and shriek in horror.
The cloaked figure quickly turns back to her, his expression apologetic. "I'm sorry about that," he says softly. "It's necessary for the guild."
She tries to calm her racing heart, focusing on his reassuring presence. "Are you the missing girl, Lara?" he asks gently.
She nods, tears welling up in her eyes as the reality of her near-death experience begins to sink in. "Yes, I am," she confirms.
The cloaked figure steps forward, his tone softens, becoming almost soothing as he speaks. "I'm Ryu, and this is Apollo," he says, gesturing toward the towering knight beside him.
Hearing his calm voice, something inside Lara finally snaps. Relief washes over her like a wave, and the fear she's been holding in for so long breaks free. Tears spill down her cheeks as she sobs, her body trembling uncontrollably. Without thinking, she throws herself into Ryu's arms, wrapping her thin arms around him and clinging tightly.
"Thank you... thank you..." she cries, her voice shaking. "I thought... I thought I was going to die."
Ryu, caught off guard by the sudden embrace, hesitates for a moment before gently patting her back, his touch awkward but kind. He isn't used to this—comforting others—but he does his best. "It's alright. You're safe now," he says, his voice steady. "We've got you."
Lara's sobs continue for a few moments, muffled against Ryu's cloak. He stands there, patient, waiting for her to calm down, his hand still resting gently on her back. Apollo watches quietly, its glowing eyes flickering as if contemplating the scene before it.
Eventually, Lara pulls back slightly, sniffling, her tear-streaked face red from crying. She looks up at Ryu with wide, grateful eyes. "I don't know how to thank you," she whispers, her voice hoarse.
Ryu gives her a small, reassuring smile. "You don't have to thank us. I'm just glad we got here in time."
He tilts his head slightly, studying her. "Can you move? Are you hurt?" he asks, concern threading his words.
Lara nods, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "I-I can move," she says, her voice steadier now. "I'm not hurt... just scared."
Ryu pats her shoulder once more, his touch firm but reassuring. "Good. We need to get out of here," he says gently. "But we'll make sure nothing happens to you, alright?"
She nods again, though her legs still feel weak beneath her. Even so, there's a strange comfort in his presence, in the way he speaks with calm confidence. She believes him. She believes they'll make it out.
⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔
As we make our way back to the village, I reflect on the events that just transpired. Lara, now calm and composed, walks beside me. While I comforted her earlier, Apollo efficiently gathered all the goblin ears, filling a large burlap sack. Apollo now carries it effortlessly, along with several other sacks filled with weapons, armor, and coins we uncovered from the goblin village.
As we emerged from the cave, the sun had started its descent, casting long shadows across the forest floor. The sky is painted with hues of orange and pink, signaling the end of the day. The air is cooler now, a welcome change from the oppressive atmosphere inside the cave.
We continued our journey back to the village, the sound of our footsteps and the rustling of the burlap sacks the only noises breaking the evening stillness. Despite the weight of the sacks, I feel a sense of relief. We had accomplished our mission, and Lara was safe. The village would no longer be terrorized by the goblins, and soon they would see the proof of our success.
As we approached the village, one of the villagers spotted us and immediately called out, "Lara! They've returned with Lara!" The shout echoed through the village, and soon a crowd began to form, rushing towards us with a mixture of relief and curiosity.
Lara's parents are the first to push through the gathering crowd, their faces twisted with both hope and fear. A woman—her mother presumably—rushes forward, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her sobs are heart-wrenching as she falls into Lara's arms, wrapping her daughter in a fierce embrace. Lara, trembling, breaks down as well, her cries mingling with her mothers, their reunion a raw display of love and relief.
I step back, watching the scene unfold, giving them space. Lara's father, Elder Garrick, is not far behind. His eyes are wide with disbelief as he approaches, his steps uncertain at first, as if he can't quite believe what he's seeing. When he reaches them, he too pulls Lara into his arms, his once strong and steady demeanor crumbling as he holds his daughter close.
"You're safe... you're safe," he whispers, his voice choked with emotion, repeating the words like a prayer. His gratitude radiates from him, as if the weight of the world has been lifted from his shoulders. For a long moment, the three of them stand there, wrapped in each other's arms, crying tears of relief.
Villagers gather around, their eyes filled with awe, watching the family's reunion. It's clear to me that Lara is more than just their daughter—she's a symbol of hope for them all.
Elder Garrick eventually pulls back, his hands still resting on Lara's shoulders, his face a mixture of amazement and gratitude. He looks at me, his voice shaking as he speaks. "You did it. You brought her back to us... and so quickly." His words are filled with awe, and I can see the disbelief in his eyes, as if he never expected to see his daughter again.
I nod, offering a faint smile. "We're just glad she's safe."
Lara clings to her parents, tears still streaming down her face, but there's a flicker of peace in her eyes now. She's home. And seeing that... it makes everything worth it.
"The goblins won't be a problem anymore," I say, dropping the bulging sack of goblin ears onto the ground with a dull thud. Apollo follows suit, placing its sacks of gathered spoils beside mine.
A collective gasp ripples through the crowd, whispers spreading like wildfire. The villagers stare at the sacks, eyes wide with disbelief and admiration, murmuring among themselves.
Garrick steps closer, his gaze fixed on the sacks. "What do you mean by 'dealt with'?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.
I untie the burlap sack and pull it open, revealing hundreds of severed goblin ears. "I mean," I reply, meeting Garrick's stunned gaze, "the goblins won't be a problem anymore."
His eyes widen even further as he takes in the sight. "You... you really took on this many goblins by yourselves?" he stammers, almost in awe.
Lara steps forward, her voice shaking with gratitude. "Yes, they did. You should have seen them. They fought with such skill and bravery. I've never seen anything like it."
Garrick turns to the villagers, his face breaking into a wide grin. "A feast!" he declares. "Tonight, we celebrate!"
Cheers erupt from the villagers, their voices filled with joy and relief. The sound of their celebration echoes through the village, a symbol of their freedom from fear and the start of a brighter future.
⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔
Greenhill comes alive with festivity. Music fills the air, the cheerful melodies of flutes, fiddles, and lutes mixing with the crackling of the large fire burning in the center of the square. Several spits turn slowly, cooking golden-brown meats, the savory aroma mingling with the scent of freshly baked bread and herbs. Wooden tables overflow with food, and barrels of ale are tapped, mugs clinking together as laughter and chatter spread through the night.
Garrick sits beside me, his hearty laugh mingling with the lively sounds of the feast. I recount the events of the day to an eager audience, detailing the battle against the goblins in vivid descriptions. The villagers listen intently, their eyes wide with a mix of admiration and relief.
Apollo, meanwhile, isn't with us. It's entertaining the village children, its metallic fingers moving deftly to create intricate shadow puppets against the fire-lit walls. The children's squeals of delight carry across the square, their faces lit with wonder.
I raise my third mug of ale to Garrick, marveling at the quality of the feast. "This is quite the celebration," I remark, savoring the rich, malty flavor of the drink.
Garrick grins, his face flushed with contentment. "All thanks to you and your companion," he says, downing his mug of ale in one long gulp. "You gave us a reason to celebrate."
A villager approaches our table, carrying a small barrel. When I ask about it, Garrick's grin widens. "Ah, this is my specialty brew. I only bring it out on rare occasions." He pours an amber-colored liquid into small cups, handing one to me.
Garrick then clears his throat. "A toast to our heroes!" he declares, his voice booming over the crackling fire. The lively music and chatter that filled the air only moments ago fade as everyone turns their attention toward him. The entire village falls silent, all eyes on the elder as he stands tall, raising his cup high.
"My friends," Garrick begins, his voice filled with emotion, "tonight, we celebrate not just the return of my daughter, Lara, but the courage and valor of two individuals who made it possible." He gestures to me, and then his gaze shifts toward Apollo, who stands across the square near the children. "These brave souls—Ryu and Apollo—have not only saved Lara, but they have rid us of the goblins who terrorized our village. Thanks to them, Greenhill can once again sleep in peace."
He pauses, letting his words sink in. "For weeks, we lived in fear, not knowing when or where the goblins would strike next. But now... thanks to these two adventurers, that fear is gone. They risked their lives to bring back my daughter safely and end the goblin threat once and for all."
There's a wave of murmurs and whispers among the villagers, their faces lit with admiration. Garrick turns to me, his eyes filled with gratitude. "Ryu, we owe you more than we could ever repay. You brought my daughter back. You brought hope back to our village." His gaze then shifts to Apollo. "And to your companion, Apollo, who has shown such kindness to our children tonight."
The villagers follow his gaze, clapping and cheering for Apollo, who remains near the children, casting intricate shadow puppets against the wall.
Garrick leans in closer to me, lowering his voice so only I can hear. "Are you sure Apollo doesn't want to join us for the festivities? The way he's been with the children—he seems like he'd enjoy it."
I give him a small smile and shake my head. "Apollo prefers to keep a low profile. He's always been more comfortable in the background, doing what needs to be done rather than joining in on celebrations. It's just who he is."
Garrick chuckles warmly, patting my shoulder. "I see. Well, you both are remarkable men, I'll give you that."
He turns back to the crowd, raising his cup once more. "Now, let's all raise our glasses to Ryu and Apollo, the heroes of Greenhill!"
I lift my own cup as the villagers echo his words, their voices rising in unison. "To Ryu and Apollo!" The cheers echo across the village, their gratitude palpable in the air.
I take a sip of the brew, its warmth spreading through my chest, the mix of spices and honey leaving a lingering sweetness. The strength of the drink makes me cough slightly, causing Garrick to laugh heartily beside me.
"It's strong," I admit, wiping the edge of my mouth as the drink settles.
"It'll put hair on your chest, lad," Garrick jokes, downing his own cup with ease. "But you've earned it, every drop."
His expression turns serious as he reaches into his pocket, pulling out a silver coin. "I must thank you again," he says earnestly. "You've done a great thing for Greenhill, and for my family. I'm sorry we can't offer more as payment." He holds the coin out to me, his face lined with concern.
I shake my head, gently pushing his hand back. "The goblin ears and a share of the coins we found will suffice. Consider the weapons and armor left behind as our donation to your village. They're too heavy for us to carry."
Garrick looks puzzled for a moment but doesn't press the matter. Instead, he raises his cup again. "To you and your companion, then. May your journey be safe and your path always clear."
We drink, the warmth of the brew spreading through me, making me feel even more connected to these people. Garrick's expression softens into one of deep gratitude, and I can see the relief in his eyes as the weight of the goblin threat finally lifts from his shoulders. The night continues with more laughter, music, and stories as the village of Greenhill celebrates its newfound peace.
Lara is seated nearby, her mother doting on her, making sure she is comfortable and well-fed. Her face is still pale from her ordeal, but there's a small, tired smile on her lips as she takes in the joyous celebration. Occasionally, she glances over at me, and then at Apollo, her eyes filled with gratitude that she is home, safe and sound.
Villagers approach our table throughout the night, offering heartfelt thanks. An elderly woman hands me a bouquet of flowers, her eyes moist with tears of relief. A young boy shyly offers Apollo a small carved wooden figure, which Apollo accepts with a nod of thanks. To the villagers, Apollo is a man—a knight who fought to protect them—and I keep up that appearance, allowing them to believe in the persona we've created.
Garrick and I dig into the feast, the food a perfect reflection of the village's gratitude. The meat, seasoned with care, is tender and full of flavor. The bread is warm, and the vegetables are roasted to perfection. Every bite feels like a tribute to the relief that now flows through the village.
As we eat, Garrick looks at me curiously, noticing how my face remains cloaked in shadow, even in the bright light of the fire. He raises an eyebrow, leaning in slightly. "Is there a reason you keep your face hidden, even in such bright light?"
I chuckle, offering a quick, practiced excuse. "Old habits die hard. I've been in enough dangerous situations to know that keeping a low profile is often the safest approach."
Garrick laughs heartily at that, clinking his mug against mine. "Fair enough! To each their own, I suppose."
A little while later, Lara approaches our table, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. Her voice trembles, thick with emotion as she speaks. "I don't even have the words to express my gratitude," she says, her voice catching in her throat. "You both... you didn't just save my life—you gave me a second chance. Thank you."
I smile, raising my cup in acknowledgment. "Just doing our job," I say, trying to downplay our actions, though her gratitude strikes deep. It's a reminder of why we fight, and why I must continue to protect those who cannot protect themselves.
As the night stretches on, the music grows louder, the laughter even more boisterous. Apollo, ever the quiet presence, continues to entertain the children, now dancing around him, their faces glowing with happiness. Watching them brings a rare smile to my face, a fleeting moment of peace that settles over me.
The feast carries on long into the night, with stories of bravery and relief shared around the fire. The villagers' appreciation is palpable, their joy infectious. For a moment, I allow myself to believe that maybe, just maybe, I could find a place in this new world, a place where I'm not constantly looking over my shoulder, a place where I can live freely.