“Gods, I’m getting too old for this!” Bordan wheezed, having finally caught his breath enough for him to speak.
“Oh come off it.” Edwin said, laying out their medical equipment while Leodin was taking off his shirt. “You held off a small army of goblins all on your own and there’s not a scratch on you. We can all only hope to be in as good a shape when we’re sixty.”
“I’ll show you sixty, you big oaf.” Bordan huffed indignantly, shooting him a glare. It was made considerably less threatening by the fact that he was down on one knee, clutching his spear as if it was the only thing keeping him from falling over. “How are you not even sweating?”
Instead of answering, Edwin looked over to Salissa. “You okay over there? Don’t go too far, there might be more hiding in the bushes somewhere.”
The mage sullenly looked up from where she was leaning on a tree. She had sat down, only to immediately jump to her feet, stagger a few steps away and violently throw up. Mana depletion was unkind on a good day, and she’d really tested her limits this time.
For the next few minutes, Edwin was busy taking care of Leodin’s wounds. Thankfully, they were mostly superficial, as the goblins hadn’t managed to land good hits, and their low-quality weapons hadn’t penetrated deeply. He would have to be careful for a while, but the worst he could expect were a few scars.
That taken care of, Edwin got up and collected his mace from where he’d dropped it and scouted the surroundings. Where before untouched forest had charmed with lush greenery, the place had become a battlefield. Almost two dozen dead goblins were strewn around the area, their blood watering the trampled plants, while the misshapen, gutted corpse of the hobgoblin lying on the black, burnt patch of vegetation was the ensemble’s crowning feature.
They’d really done a number on the place.
Edwin slowly walked around, checking the corpses. He could clearly make out the place Bordan had made his stand, several of the monsters having died in an almost perfect semicircle. From the way the corpses lay, Edwin could piece together what had happened after he’d turned his back. Leodin, and maybe Salissa, had flanked the goblins encircling Bordan, forcing them to turn around. The former soldier had used this opportunity to go on the offensive and they had slaughtered the remaining half dozen or so before they could decide who to attack first while Edwin had kept the hobgoblin busy.
Further along, Edwin found the place where he’d fought the first enemies, and followed the trail of dead bodies towards where he’d killed the archer. Halfway there, the tall grass in front of him rustled and he jumped. Looking closer, he recognized the goblin he’d hit in the back earlier. It was still alive, lying on its belly, unable to do more than move its head and glare at Edwin hatefully. He ended the creature’s misery. Standing over it, Edwin remembered something and looked around. After a quick survey of the area, he jogged back to his team.
“Hey, did any of you see a goblin with a knife that came from over here late in the fight?”
They shared looks, then Leodin shrugged.
“If you mean after you arrived, no. At least I don’t think so. Why?”
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
Edwin scratched his chin, looking around. “I kicked one away earlier, and I couldn’t find its corpse. I think it might have bailed.”
“You kicked it?” Leodin asked, bemused. “Why would you kick it?”
“It was in the way. They’re the perfect height for it, and really light.” Edwin said, miming his punt. “You think it’s going to warn the nest, Bordan?”
“No clue.” Bordan replied thoughtfully. “Maybe it will, or maybe it decided it wants nothing to do with this and ran off entirely. We’ll have to ask Gerrit what he thinks when we get back. Speaking of, we should probably get on our way.”
“Sounds good.” Edwin agreed. “Leodin, you good to walk?”
“Sure, I guess.” the marksman grumbled. “Wait, you dueled a hobgoblin and you’re fine? How is that fair?”
“Yeah, it looked like it bit you.” Bordan added, a hint of suspicion in his voice. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine, the dumb thing just bit my gambeson, barely scratched me.” Edwin laughed. “Here, look.”
He opened his gambeson, then pulled it down so they could see his shoulder. The skin was bright red, and there was some blood smeared over the area, but there was no wound. The hobgoblin’s teeth were long and thin like needles, so healing the bite had been much faster than that of the direwolf had been. Closing wounds was almost instantaneous, it was the regrowth of tissue that took time.
“See? That axe was trouble, but once it couldn’t use its weapon the hob was a pushover.”
Bordan sighed. “You’re so weird, Edwin. I swear, if I didn’t see these things with my own eyes, I wouldn’t believe them.”
“You probably shouldn’t trust your eyes anyway, what with your age and all.”
One of Walter’s reasons to become a Lich had been his fear of old age, and the lessening of his mental abilities that would have inevitably come with it. In the beginning, he’d meant to achieve his dream of living another life through the Immortalizer alone, but after a few years of research he’d realized that one lifetime probably wasn’t going to be enough time to make that happen. The decision to go against everything the College had taught him and become the one thing mages feared and hated the most hadn’t been easy, but nobody had ever accused Walter of lacking dedication.
Having successfully escaped the clutches of time was still a source of great joy for Edwin, and he rarely let an opportunity to voice that joy pass him by – usually at the expense of Bordan, who was around the age Walter had been when he’d turned.
The adventurers gathered their scattered gear, Edwin carrying Leodin’s crossbow, and started back towards the village.
--- ----- ---
The first thing Edwin noticed when arriving at Maff was the strange air that hung about the army camp. Most of the soldiers seemed to be back from their patrols, but where they had been easygoing just this morning, now there were a lot more frowns and a generally tense atmosphere. They approached, and Bordan hailed a sentry.
“We just got back, are captain Vellis or the other parties here yet?”
“I think one of your groups is, don’t know about the other. The captain is in the village with the wounded.”
“Wounded?” Bordan asked, worried. “What happened?”
The young soldier’s frown deepened. “Second squad ran into a group of goblins. Four injured. They set up a medical station in the tavern.”
“Them too?” Bordan asked, exchanging worried looks with his companions. “That can’t be good.”
“Too? You can’t mean…” The soldier looked from one to the other, his eyes finally finding the bandaged Leodin in the back.
Bordan nodded. “We also met some goblins, but thankfully we’re mostly alright. Thank you, soldier, we’ll go see the captain.”
They turned and headed towards the gate, only to be stopped by a cheerful call.
“Ho there, fellas!” Borm shouted, his party approaching from further down the road. “Hope you’re hungry!”
As they came closer, Edwin noticed the strange bundle Borm and Moss were carrying on long sticks between them.
“What in the gods’ name is that?”
“Well,” Doren said with a smile. “We didn’t find any goblins, but on our way back this direhare attacked us. We figured it might make for good eating, so we brought it with us.”
He looked around, losing his levity. “Why the serious faces? Did something happen?”
Bordan sighed. “You can say that. Come on, we were just about to find out more ourselves.”