The forest was still, a patchwork of greens and browns as the duo ventured further from the stream. The beaten-down undergrowth, used as trails by some creature, made it easier to continue. Elizabeth led the way, apparently tracking the path the goblins had taken. At one point, she tried to show Stephen what she was following, but to him, it all looked like broken twigs and leaves. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary to Stephen; he just chalked it up to being nature.
"So, your parents died when you were young?" Stephen asked, attempting to break the silence between them. Traveling with someone and not talking felt unnerving. He had an ulterior motive as well—to discover more about this world. By asking the right questions, he hoped to glean the truth about whether Elizabeth was from his world or not. He understood this was a touchy topic, but she had been open with him before, so he took a chance that this trend would continue.
"When I was twenty-six, yes," Elizabeth replied as she pushed past a downed branch. She waited for Stephen to catch up, holding the branch for him. Once he was beside her, she knelt down, feeling the ground and looking ahead, something she had done several times to ensure they were on the right path.
"Twenty-six? How old are you?" Elizabeth, now with her helmet clipped to her waist, looked up at him and playfully smiled. Stephen had assumed she was in her early twenties by the way she looked. He raised an eyebrow, intrigued.
"You know it's rude to ask a lady her age." Elizabeth rose and moved to a nearby tree, analyzing some broken branches. She didn’t turn to him as she spoke, letting him marinate in the awkwardness of the question.
"But I’m twenty-eight," she finally said after a few moments of silence. She placed her hands on her hips and tilted her head, waiting for a reaction.
"Twenty-eight? Older than I would have guessed." Stephen moved toward a tree and leaned against it. Twenty-eight? He thought, his eyes looking her over, and then to her status. She was only level six. How long does it take to level up? He assumed it was relatively simple to level up, but after this revelation, he began to question it.
"Well, thank you, I’ll take that as a compliment," Elizabeth teased, chuckling slightly. Stephen looked ahead toward the deepening forest, where the fresh pine scent was slowly being replaced by a putrid odor, like unwashed socks and body odor—something you’d expect in a gym bag rather than a forest.
"What is that smell?" Stephen asked, turning back to his companion, who was back to tracking broken branches and trampled leaves. She turned her head to him, her blonde ponytail brushing along her back as she faced him. Her nose flared as she sniffed the air, then she scrunched her nose and stuck out her tongue in disgust.
"Yep, goblin nest. We’re close." With a fluid, trained motion, she unhooked her helmet and slipped it back on. She adjusted her armor, ensuring it was snug. Sensing she was preparing for a fight, Stephen stepped away from the tree.
"So, is it like a camp or something? Did they build walls and watchtowers?" Stephen moved alongside Elizabeth as they ventured forward. The smell grew stronger, stinging Stephen’s nostrils.
"Build? No, goblins are smart enough to use weapons and tools, but they don’t really build. They reuse abandoned structures. Unless..." Her voice trailed off as they continued. Stephen couldn’t help but sense something was amiss. Elizabeth had stopped and was investigating a strange carving on a tree. Stephen looked around and spotted another, then another. It seemed every other tree had this marking.
"Damn... Hob Goblin..." Elizabeth finally continued as she pointed to the marking. "It’s marking territory. Hob Goblins have pseudo-human-level intellect. If there’s a Hob Goblin, we could be looking at a camp, not a simple nest." Elizabeth held out her hand, and a shield appeared, automatically strapping itself to her arm. The shield was silver-trimmed, surrounding a blue area with a depiction of a woman with four arms. Two arms held what appeared to be children, while the other two held swords raised as if ready to attack. Stephen assumed this was her worshipped deity, as it seemed to accurately depict family and wrath in equal measure.
"Hob Goblin? Is that like a boss monster?" Elizabeth shook her head at his comment. The two continued to make their way forward, the markings growing more prominent. The trees also seemed to be dying the further they went.
"No, not a boss per se, but trouble. Hob Goblins are what happens when a goblin levels up enough." She abruptly smacked Stephen on the chest, stopping his forward movement. So monsters can evolve here? This was new information. If that was the case, what was the Frogling King? Which stage of evolution had that creature been in? These were questions he wanted answers to, but now didn’t seem like a good time. Just a few hundred yards away, he could see it—a ramshackle wooden palisade, with smoke billowing from beyond the walls in towers that streamed into the sky. He could see goblins patrolling the outer perimeter and some form of a hut in the center, though he could only see the top of it over the wooden beams.
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Elizabeth hunkered down behind a boulder and motioned for Stephen to join her. Crouching, Stephen moved slowly, ensuring his footing so as not to alert the goblins to their presence. He peeked around the boulder, checking if he was noticed. Seeing no sign that he had alerted the patrol, he breathed a sigh of relief. Back in his old life, he had never done anything like this before except in video games, but now, with actual stakes involved, he broke into a cold sweat. He also noticed a drastic change in his mentality. Before, when combat erupted, he felt compelled to charge headlong into the fight—a feeling brought on by his Job, he had learned—but this time, it was different. As he looked at the camp, it felt like his heart would burst from his chest. Something in the back of his mind told him to flee, but another feeling kept him rooted, unable to flee. It was a swirling mess of mixed signals.
"Okay, we need to be careful. If this was just a simple nest, it would be easier. But with a Hob Goblin involved... who knows what to expect?" Elizabeth’s voice was low, barely audible through her helmet. Her blue eyes shifted, checking their surroundings. Shifting slightly, she peeked around the boulder at the goblins' makeshift battlements. She ducked back as another patrol passed by.
The goblins walking around the perimeter posed a threat—or so it seemed at first glance. But as they watched, they noticed the small green creatures were merely going through the motions of patrolling. They seemed more interested in squawking and chittering at each other than paying attention to their surroundings. A few times, they even stopped to examine something on the ground, smacking each other and fighting over a bug. The victor greedily shoved it into its mouth, gloating over its victory.
Unbeknownst to the two small creatures, two shadows moved closer. With a flash of silver and a garbled choke, the goblins felt the cold grip of death. The last thing they saw was a figure encased in silver armor and another wearing leathers before the world went black.
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With a flick of his wrist, Stephen whipped off the black blood of the goblin he had just slain. The wooden poles of the palisade offered adequate cover as he hunkered down again. Elizabeth put the sword in the crook of her elbow and used the fabric in the gap of her arm to clean the blade as she pulled it free. The two leaned to opposite sides, peering into the camp through gaps in the wall.
Inside, they saw multiple fire pits, each roasting what appeared to be Scalebucks on open spits. Goblins slowly cranked handles, rotating the corpses. Occasionally, they would stop to smack away goblins trying to steal some of the meat, like chefs in a kitchen. It was a somewhat humorous sight, and Stephen found himself smiling as he held back laughter.
Beyond the fire pits, they saw smaller tents. Goblins came and went from the tents, revealing racks containing weapons and cages acting as storage. The goblins seemed coordinated enough, making it look like a somewhat formidable outpost—if it weren’t for their lack of attention and impulse control. A few times, they witnessed goblins quarreling with one another, only for one to stab the other to death and laugh at the corpse before moving on. They seemed just as much a danger to themselves as they were to Stephen and Elizabeth.
Their eyes then moved to the largest tent. It was closed, so they couldn’t get a good look inside, but they both knew in their gut that the Hob Goblin was there. The tent itself was the most impressive structure in this little outpost. It was a patchwork of different leathers, sewn together with various bits of rope, string, and leather straps. It bore the same markings as those carved into the trees, painted in red—a six-fingered hand with its fingers spread and a dagger in the palm.
Stephen leaned back behind the cover of the wall as a goblin got a little too close to his position. He surveyed the forest to make sure no other goblins were sneaking up on them. Elizabeth leaned back and pressed her back to the wall, letting out a sigh. She seemed lost in thought, running scenarios in her mind about how best to tackle this obstacle. She had led them here, even after finding the Hob Goblin markings, and now that they were finally here, she seemed to falter.
"So, what's the plan?" whispered Stephen, snapping Elizabeth out of her thoughts and back to reality. Their eyes locked, and he could see she was as lost as he was. Stephen looked to his left along the wall, spotting a small opening. With a motion, he pointed and began to head toward it. Elizabeth reached out to stop him, but her arm barely lifted. Her trembling fingers barely touched his back as he moved away.
This was the first time she would be assaulting a Hob Goblin outpost. Sure, she had read about them in the monastery where she trained, but up until now, her experience had been gained from training and hunting. She cursed herself for acting like a veteran adventurer and leading them here. Cold sweat beaded on her brow, and she felt the chill of doubt and fear down her spine. Hunting monsters in the forest was easy—they reacted predictably, like beasts. But this? This was something with borderline human levels of intelligence.
Stephen lay prone on the ground and began to crawl under the wall into some tall grass inside the camp. He had done this countless times in video games, hunkering lower to avoid being seen. Elizabeth reluctantly moved to his position, but when she got to the hole, she found her armor was too large to fit. She looked at Stephen with dread in her eyes. They were separated. Stephen looked back at her, seeing her fear. He smiled, trying to alleviate some of her concern.
"It's fine. Find another way in. When you—" He paused as a goblin stopped next to the tall grass. It scratched at its backside and smelled its fingers, oblivious to Stephen’s presence, with its back to him. Stephen barely breathed as he waited, his eyes locked on the goblin until it moved on.
"When you get in position, give me a signal, and I'll create a distraction." Stephen continued once he felt it was safe. Elizabeth hesitated, then nodded slowly. Worry reflected in her eyes as she looked at Stephen, then over her shoulder along the wall, spotting what seemed to be an entrance.
"Be careful. Don't get yourself killed," she warned in a hushed tone before moving away along the wall. As she left her party member, her mind raced, and her stomach knotted. She was supposed to be helping him, yet here he was taking charge and calming her. She shook her head and breathed deeply, clearing her mind. She couldn't worry about that now—they had a bigger problem to tackle first.