We were placed on clean-up duty.

Gathering bodies of mangled goblins in several pyres, then lighting them ablaze.

The smell was putrid.

Ronald and Robert joked as we helped each other lug bodies.

You think the pillaging crew forgot any droppings, Rob remarked as we picked up one of the bigger goblins, a tank or lower chieftain.

Not a chance. Not even if the shrine of Saint Joseph's luck shone on us.

Just as the words had left his voice, a small object fell from out of the goblin chieftain.

Stolen novel; please report.

Reaching and picking it up, Robert said.

"Looks like we can save that saint Joseph's luck for another day, you bastard."

After we had completed moving the bodies, we shared bread and rations with the rest of the party who had set up camp for the night.

Spirits were high.

Five deaths meant that our party had dropped to 25, but the worse was now behind us.

With these men, we could make it through the mountain path.

It was a windy journey ahead.

One filled with an unknown that I didn't like. It wasn't the creatures that I feared. But how the men would react to them?

Also, that strange rune sigel found off the goblin chieftain, which Ronald kept hidden away, scared me.

I tried not to worry about future toil, everything would be figured out with time.

For now, we had a warm fire and a group of merry men and a soft sleep awaiting me.