The natural sounds of the forest were interrupted by the quick, almost silent steps of Kevinar as he darted back to our group. Seeing the taut serious look on his face, the lightheartedness of the morning faded away; the sunshine suddenly less welcoming and the air dense with tension. In a place where the trees spread wide and the canopy above was fragmented, our exposed position made me clench the hilt of my Freezing Kusarigama. Jeldorain's mocking laughter bubbled up within me, feeding off my anxiety.

“Trouble?” Ike asked, his voice a low hiss.

Kevinar's eyes darted about, his usual calm demeanor replaced with evident concern. “Warg Knights,” he whispered, “scouring the forest.”

The blood drained from Ike's face, his tan scales growing pale. “Perhaps it's best we move back to where the trees stand close together. They won’t be able to maneuver as easily there. And we might be able to find a nook to hole up and hide in.”

Kevinar shook his head, standing tall, defiance sparking in his eyes. “Retreating every time they show up isn't the solution, Ike. We can't keep running if we hope to truly revolt. What will we do when the rabble is all gone and they’re the only ones left?”

“Warg Knights?” I questioned. I’d heard of them in some of the fantasy novels and games back on Earth, but really had no sense of scale to them. The monsters I knew from the games I’d played wouldn’t be a challenge to such a professional group.

The group exchanged glances, their expressions a mix of surprise and pity. “Ryan,” Jon began, taking a deep breath and swishing his tail, “Warg Knights are elite warriors, each one mounted atop a dire wolf warg. Psychically bonded, the unity in their movements and strategy are unparalleled. The wargs are monsters like wolves but thrice as big, with teeth like daggers and muscles of iron. Warg Knights . . . they’re nearly invincible. No one's ever defeated a squad of them, at least not in any tales I’ve heard.”

“The tales,” Kevinar spat. “Glory comes to those who make new tales. And rebellions are won by those who are willing to fight despite the odds.”

Schustak, the goblin, let out a cough, bringing all eyes to him. I gave him a good look over for the first time, this being of the world whose people stood on top of the social pyramid. It was his kind that had forced me here, and left me dead back in my other world.

Waves of ice radiated out through my body, a sudden rage rising in my chest. I narrowed my eyes, feeling the slush in my veins pump faster, even as something bubbled in my stomach.

Goblin, I thought, the word dripping with ichor. The ferocity of my feeling shocked me and I tried to stuff it away, giving greater regard to Schustak and observing him more thoroughly.

He stood shorter than most of the party but something about him exuded wisdom and confidence. His skin was a deep, mottled green, textured and wrinkled like the bark of a tree that had been submerged in swamp water for centuries. Large, yellow eyes, luminescent in the sunlight, shined arrogance beneath a heavy brow. They were shifty, covered in a guilty pallor, always scanning and observing.

Everything about him screamed untrustworthy. Inside, I could feel Jeldorain assent.

They took you away from your body. And they locked me deep inside mine. He is one of them. He should be torn apart and consumed, his blood and flesh made energy for the conquest of this pathetic world.

My muscles clenched, but I forced myself to relax. I didn’t know him; didn’t know why he was here fighting the world that raised his kind above all others. I would listen first and learn his story and who he was.

I wouldn’t give in to assumptions.

“We could fool them,” Schustak said, his thickly accented voice stretching out his words in long greasy syllables. “We could stand our ground here and trick them into thinking we belong. I was a noble before I found the white stag, and my true place in life. I have knowledge of words and ways by which to deceive them.”

Ike grunted, nodding, and I stared at him in disbelief. Schustak had all of the obvious, over-the-top villainous qualities exhibited by so-called secret villains in cinema. His words and the way he said them were a dead give-away. As was his job. The good druids were always from sylvan glades and forests. Maybe an orchard. Sunny places filled with beauty and prosperity.

Swamps—I’d grown up in a swamp. Fat rotted willows lined banks of brackish water filled with leeches and swarming with bugs. The sodden ground squelched and moaned when you walked on it, sometimes even breaking through into hidden pools of fetid stagnant water slimed through with the eggs of amphibians. Swamps were natural horror shows, and a sure sign that Schustak was a classic villain in disguise.

I see no fault in your reasoning, Jeldorain agreed from within. They are monsters, all of them. But consider this. His plan isn’t without merit. He is a spy, for sure, but this isn’t yet his time to turn on us. I am certain of that.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Schustak continued speaking, telling the group his plan to bluff us all through, his words droning as I turned inwards. I’m not worth turning us in for? Seems like they went to a lot of trouble to get me here.

The feeling of understanding, and even brotherly comfort swept over my body. Would I give us up? I have just as much at stake here as you do. The goblin doesn’t know what we are nor our importance. I suggest his mission is to find the rebel camp, then run off to inform his superiors.

I thought a moment before responding. I will trust you on this. But what happened with the forest shark, I expect agreement between us before you seize control. Do that again, and I’ll find some way to end you.

Jeldorain laughed. Indeed, grand champion, I humble myself before you.

I shut off my mind to him, catching just the tail end of the plan. It didn’t seem too complicated. Schustak would pretend to be in charge of us all. And we’d play the part of his armed retinue.

With everything in position, we took our places, fanning ourselves out into a protective perimeter around the horrid goblin swamp druid.

The silence was palpable as the first Warg Knight came into view, the luminescence of the afternoon sun soaking into the black enamel of his steel full-plate armor. With each step the monstrous warg took, the soft crunch of dead leaves and twigs sent shivers of nervous dread through my body. And despite having the stature of a goblin, he looked like an absolute total party killer, the sort of awesome bad guy who’d wipe out not just you and your friends but also the randos you met and recruited in the lobby.

His faceplate was stylized, shaped into something like the mix between a goblin and a hornless devil. I felt myself waver slightly as I tried to peek behind the mask. There was something unnaturally terrifying about it, almost certainly a magical fear spell baked into the metal, and I wondered if I wouldn’t have run away already if not for the infernal and magically resistant body that I now inhabited.

More riders followed, emerging from the forest around them until they numbered a total of five. They rode past birch trees in eerie synchronization, the wargs marching in proud and rhythmic unison.

Watching them progress, their mostly noiseless yet heavily armed presence picking through the forest in a way known only to the greatest of movie ninjas, I felt both awed and over-classed.

Shooting a glance at Kevinar, I noted that his own face quivered slightly at their approach. I respected the man, his blades, and his earlier call to arms. To see him in the same place as I was downright humbling.

The newcomers all drew up in line with the first, each of them sitting stiffly upright. Over their hearts burned the fire emblem of the Goblin Empire, a symbol of subjugation and enslavement.

I glared at Schustak, but could read nothing in his face. My body tensed. Despite the words of Jeldorain, we could very well be sold out in the next few moments.

“Glory to Gharag. Shall he see us reign forever,” Schustak said, pounding his fist over his heart. My pulse quickened, my eyes shifting to see the response of the Warg Knights. They stayed eerily still, like statues in a park.

Schustak cleared his throat, his hand moving slightly up his staff. “I am Grove Lord Schustak. This is my retinue. I travel to pay homage to Court Heartstabber at Gharag City. We are honored to meet you so close to the start of our travels, and request escort back to the city if you should be heading that way also.”

Finally the original knight moved, his short but bulky arms reaching up to remove his helm and gaze upon us all with urine-yellow eyes. Greenish-brown skin covered his face, and I noticed that his teeth were snaggle-toothed and jagged as he opened his mouth to take in a great exaggerated huff of forest air, the spiky goatee of his chin pointed accusingly at us as he did so.

“Ghrak tar zulik narsh in groth-nar vok,” he said. The knight raised his hand, pointing at all who surrounded Schustak. “You! Weapons drop or die screaming.”

My heart beat even harder and I looked at Ike, who gave no indication that he noticed. But Schustak spoke loudly, making it very clear by his imperial tone that he was not one to be trifled with.

“Weapons down. We have no quarrel with these fine servants of the empire.”

I dropped my icearigama, the sight of it now on the ground before me somehow well more terrifying than these goblin powerhouses. One of the knights turned his helm slightly in my direction, and I couldn’t help but wonder if he wasn’t about to steal the weapon from me. All with that bastard Schustak’s blessing.

“We come for battle rebels. They hunting here. Fighting wagons,” the knight announced in growling tones. Tones that quickly rose to murderous rage. “Taking many loot!”

Schustak nodded. “We have not seen any rebels. But my retinue and I were the victims of a forest shark attack. Fortunately, my servants are well-capable in combat.”

The knights chuckled at that, and I felt my ire rise despite their expert appearance. Their time will come, Jeldorain agreed.

“You have monster loot? Emperor want tithe, Grove Lord. Give us here, we bring him.”

Schustak growled and pounded his staff against the ground. It exploded with dark, leathery vines, a dim glow extending from their edges. “We are well-capable, and I am as loyal to the crown and Gharag as my servants are to me. We will not be harassed nor robbed.”

The head knight nodded. “You rebels. We kill. Take all.”

“Grak do, zarok duo thar vok!” Schustak bellowed. A blast of energy pounded out from his staff, and suddenly the unnatural fear that had been gathering inside vanished. I felt like me again.

On his warg, the knight blanched, a mixture of anger and surprise warring on his face. The battle resolved and a clear decision was reached. “Grub zorgak to vorn, zrok wez vrok.”

Schustak bowed. Turning to the rest, he raised his staff above his head. “To your knees. Bow to the might of the Empire, slaves.”

Anger roared in my ears, a sound like heavy snow pounding down the slope of a rocky mountainside. But the others dropped to their knees, kowtowing to the knights as if they were a bevy of ancient Chinese emperors.

Schustak’s face twisted with rage. “Bow, slave, or feel the wrath of the empire!” A bolt of green energy struck out, blasting me in the face, then spreading to cover the entirety of my body with electricity. I stuttered and dropped, performing obeisance despite my best attempts not to.

“If lying you did, pain will feel,” the knight stated. Then, as one, they turned and moved out.