As the others left the room, leaving Gabriel in the dining area, she watched the small flame of the table’s candle flickering on as it made its way down the candlestick. She took her flagon and made her way to her quarters. The stairs were cloaked in darkness, though her eyes quickly adjusted to where the ambient light lit the area with a soft bluish grey hue.

She the wood floors beneath her feet shift and creak with each step. She moved herself against the left side of the stairs, leaving her right hand free and resting on her long knife. Nearing the top, she moved slower, listening for any noise or unusual smells in the area. Poking her head out into the hall, found nothing of note.

Opening the door into her room, she placed the half-filled flagon on the chest of drawers in her room. Removing her armor and cloak, placing them on a chair nearby her bed and throwing on a loose woolen tunic and pants. She stretched her arms out and felt a couple of joints pop from the tension.

She went over to a book resting on the stand, and as she grabbed it and flipped to a page half filled with writing in an old language she hadn’t seen since even before she last looked to the lands of her ancestors. Running her fingers tips over the pages, feeling where the quill pressed against the paper and left indented marks even centuries after they were first written.

The dusty scent of the parchment brought her back to when she saw her grandfather writing the journal down for the first time. She remembered how the light from the sun shone through the stained glass and covered his with multiple colors. How the birds in the cage sung and whistled in the sunlight as he etched the words in the journal.

There was a sense of warmth to the moment when she first experienced it, one now long gone with its recollection. She wiped away the tears as she reread the words of the journal and remembered the smile her grandfather gave her as he finished the final scribbles. How he lifted her up and held her tightly before saying, “Do not fret, little one, for dark times cannot linger before submitting to the might of the light’s righteous command.”

She remembered burying what was left of him on the border of her homeland, holding his journal and pained memories before leaving her being exiled lands unknown and a destiny unwoven. She put the book down, pressing her hand against her face, breathing heavy as she wished for those bitter wounds in her mind to leave and after centuries of trauma, finally find a modicum of peace.

***

The wind howled across the tree tops as dark clouds passed by from overhead. As if the heavens were trying to rip the forest itself up from the ground and take it away. Gabriel, her spear leaning against her shoulder as she watched the storming clouds roll on by her.

“Gabriel!” the doctor called out. “Come take a look at this.”

Gabriel made her way over. “What is it?”

Leonidas was knelt down next a few impressions in the wet dirt. Maeryn was kneeling next to him and examining the impressions with great intent. She moved her hand over the imprint and turned her gaze up and around the area. Snarling a little as she looked.

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“What’s the matter?” Gabriel asked.

“Can’t get a good read on their scent or noise with all this damn rain,” Maeryn said to them.

“Is there anything we can go off of?” Gabriel asked.

Maeryn scratched the back of her head. “I honestly can’t tell,” she said, disgruntled. She then pointed off into a direction down a small pathway. “We could always give that a look, see what comes of it.”

“Be nice to get a bit of shelter from the damned winds,” said Gabriel as she helped Maeryn and Leonidas to their feet. As the winds stirred the leaves into a rustling frenzy, the three made their way down a thin dirt path, throwing their hoods over their heads to keep the wind off. Wrapping their cloaks tightly to shield them from the rain.

“I think we may need to turn back,” Leonidas said to Gabriel and Maeryn.

“It’s going to be impossible to find anything out here,” Gabriel followed. “I can’t smell anything other than water.”

“I can’t hear anything of note,” Maeryn admitted, looking troubled by their fortune.

Gabriel looked around, catching a soft scent of something a short distance near her. She held her hand next to her face and sniffed the air. To her left she noticed a smell of well cured meat with a strong hint of salt. “That’s odd,” she said to herself.

“What is it?” Maeryn asked.

“Do you smell cured meat?”

Maeryn turned her nose up, breathing in sharply. “I do.”

“Is that a problem?” Leonidas asked.

“No, but why would there be any cured meat out here?” Gabriel asked.

“Maybe someone dropped some when walking the path,” Leonidas followed.

“The path doesn’t look that well-traveled, and unless someone’s completely famished, there shouldn’t be a reason why they couldn’t wait to reach the farm for food.”

“Good point,” what should we do now?” the doctor asked.

“I’m thinking we get the others when the weather calms down and …,” Gabriel said, before she stopped looking out across one of the vast wheatfields and noticed a figure in the distance. It was small, thin, gaunt, keeping itself low to the ground and looking directly at them. Whoever this was, their skin was palish earthen hue, and their eyes were had a golden color.

“Something the matter?” Maeryn asked.

Gabriel turned to the elven archer and gestured, There’s something in the woods over there.

Maeryn barely tilted her head to look behind Gabriel for a moment before moving back and gesturing, I think we found our culprits.

Are they doing anything at all? Leonidas asked, turning his back away from the unknown spectator.

Gabriel shook her head. No, just keeping an eye on us.

Leonidas groaned. Not a fan of being gawked at.

“Join the club,” Maeryn said, “We probably shouldn’t tarry long.”

Gabriel nodded. “Let’s get the others and come back here when the heavens aren’t toying with us.”

Two days later, The Wolves returned to the path around the spot Gabriel and Maeryn noted their mysterious watcher. Gabriel was looking back out to the field, seeing nothing but grain stalks swaying to a calm breeze. Cid stepped up to the edge of the pathway, next to Gabriel.

“This was where you saw them?” he asked.

Gabriel nodded, pointing out towards the woods. “Around that area specifically.”

“Hmm, at least we’re getting somewhere,” he said, “why don’t you take Benkin, Jeanne, Maeryn and Leonidas see what’s out there.”

“What should we do if we find something?”

“Depends. If it’s any major signs, report back here, if you find a group of those little bastards, try to avoid an engagement if you can, and report back here. I don’t want you getting overwhelmed.”

“Right,” Gabriel said, “we’ll head out at once.”

“Good, report back when you’ve found something and we’ll see where to go from there.”

“I don’t suppose you know a good way to introduce yourself to goblins, do you?”

“All I know is, don’t bring up their height,” Cid said, “I’ve heard they’re rather sensitive about it.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Gabriel said.

“Be careful out there,” Cid said. “I’ve also heard they’re well versed in keeping themselves hidden when they don’t want to be seen.”

Gabriel nodded as she called the others to her before heading out grabbing her coiled spear and snapping it into attention.