Watch and report.

The memory of the command burrowed into the small mind of the beady-eyed goblin as he stared across the rocky field. It had been three days since he and his companion had arrived. In the time since, barely a creature passed, save for a single band of warriors. Off and on, rain had drenched their patch-work clothing and the icy chill of the wind shook their bones; but its tease was only the beginning. A storm was coming. For whatever reason, known only to the gods, he and his companion stayed glued to the spot before them.

Watch and report.

In the distance, the sea could be heard. Winds stirred the abounding waves, beckoning the storm's strength as far as the eye could see. The tide drew low, pulling the surf out far along the shoreline and then returned it with a vengeance; crashing into the dunes all along the coast. Still, it was early, and the storm was only flexing its power.

A wooden platform stood before the two goblins in the middle of the rocky field. A stairway led up to the pillared-platform, roughly twenty- feet in the air. For the moment, neither one cared to gain access to the platform, but kept their distance, focusing on the crystal on top. Its reflected light would temporarily blind him with every flashing bolt, yet its hypnotizing gesture oddly focused him to the task at hand.

Watch and report.

Time marched on, but still the goblin remained rooted to the spot. A passing hunter would have killed him and his companion without a second thought as to why or what they had been doing, but no one came. The wind and rain made sure of it. Still, he waited.

Near midday, or at least as far as he could tell, a small spark from the crystal piqued his interest. It flickered and stuttered, as if someone was trying to bang two rocks together to start a fire. Second by second, the energy grew brighter. Lightning pulsed in the sky as bolts found the path of least resistance. When the energy finally reached its peak, a crash of thunder boomed in the air, sending a shockwave that knocked his companion over. With its burst, the crystal broke. Figures originating from its center were flung into the air. A female satyr holding a bow, was knocked back towards the far end. As she flew, she screamed something neither goblin understood.

"Eeeeeeeeee?" said the knocked companion, making his way to his feet as he mimicked the response. "Rreeee reeee?"

He ignored his companion. This was no time to act like swine, he thought.

A second satyr holding a large battle- axe was thrown into one of the pillars and fell to the ground, unconscious. A halfling wearing beat- up plate armor bowled down the stairs, dropping her shield and sword along the way. She painfully rolled towards the bottom, but managed to slow her momentum and stopped short of the ground. She struggled to bring her hand up and place it on her chest. The hand glowed. A few seconds later, she gasped, got up, and frantically climbed back up the stairs while ignoring her discarded items.

An older human warrior almost flew off the ledge, but managed to catch it at the last second. A lesser human would have easily fallen, perhaps not to his death, but to his pain. The fact that he was able to grab the ledge in this rain spoke volumes to his skill.

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

Mildly impressed, the goblin raised his brow.

Two more figures emerged from the now defunct crystal: a pink-headed human and an elf, wearing loosely torn robes. Unlike the others, they managed to catch themselves and land gracefully. The elf ran to help the human on the ledge. As the human female followed him to assist, she noticed the unconscious satyr— changed course— and cried out a name.

"Vivian!"

It was then, much to the goblin's glee, a great rumbling of noise reverberated over the platform.

"No, no, no, no, no! Rory? Rory! You must be here?"

"I got Will, go help her."

"Rory, where are you?"

"Everyone alright?"

"Rory!"

"Vivian's down, but she's breathing. You have any healing left, Claudia?"

"Anyone have eyes on Rory?"

"I'm out but I think I have a potion."

"Did Rory fall off the ledge?"

"Thank you Bidant."

"Damn it. Rory? Please answer me!"

"Okay found the potion."

"We need to find shelter."

"Oh Edlyn, the crystal is destroyed!"

"RORY!"

"Thepa..." the pink headed girl spoke so softly the goblin almost missed it.

The rest stopped talking. Soon, all eyes fell on the one called Thepa and the pink-headed girl.

"Don't," Thepa said casting her eyes down.

"I'm so sor—" began the pink-haired human.

"Don't."

"You know as—"

"DON'T!"

"Thepa ..."

For a moment neither moved. With all the rain, the goblin almost missed the tears which rolled down the face of the pink- headed human. When he did notice, a wicked glee crossed his face, while a murmur of anticipation built up all around him.

To his left, his companion picked his nose.

Thepa started to sob. Her body shook uncontrollably as she fell to her knees. The pink-headed human embraced her, and together they sobbed on the ground in the pouring rain, while their own companions watched, at a loss of what they should do.

Minutes passed. At some point, the female halfling joined the two on the ground and hugged them tightly. A grunt of disgust originated from the goblin's left; he rewarded his companion with a smack upside the head.

"Pay attention!" he hissed.

Several more minutes passed until the one called Thepa jumped to her feet and spoke, "She knew. She knew this was going to happen and that's why she didn't tell me. Where's my bag?"

She looked anxiously around and spotted it behind her.

The other satyr spoke, "Sister Thepa, I believe you're reaching for the unreachable."

"I know she knew," Thepa said, seemingly not perturbed. "Why would she write a letter to the president and then give it to me? She could have given it to Will."

Thepa pulled some papers out of her bag and untied a moon-shaped pendant, holding a letter closed. Quickly, she unraveled the tangled chain, scanned the contents of the letter and shouted, "IT'S FOR ME!"

Anxiously the goblin straightened up. This was it.

Watch and report.

After a few moments, her eyes were still fixed to the letter, her expression unreadable. By the tremor in her hand that clutched the wet pages, the goblin could tell that she had read the letter, but for some reason, chose not to share its contents. Still, he continued to wait, hoping for valuable information to be revealed.

Still, his companion continued to pick his nose.

"What does the letter say?" the elf asked, breaking the uneasy silence. Thepa hesitated for a moment, as if considering whether to reveal the contents of the letter. Then she held it out to the other satyr.

"Take a look," she said.

The goblin waited a minute more, until it became clear this satyr would not share any information. Frustrated, he turned to his companion.

"Time to go," he commanded. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a scroll.

Like a careless farmer, the goblin butchered the chant in a tongue unfamiliar with its source. It was not a magic he preferred, but his own lacked the punch needed to wisp the two of them away. Still, it got the job done. On the fourth chant, the scroll burned, and the two were swallowed up by a cloud of darkness. With a small pop, the first goblin looked up to the dark clouds and smiled; knowing the sky's ferocity was nothing compared to the oncoming storm that awaited all of Sainta.

Watched, now to report.