(Forgu POV)

Searching for Jormund, I meet Madok’s wife, Cara. She looks tired, and busy, but then she does have the camp to organise.

"Cara! Cara, how is Madok doing? Any change since yesterday?"

"He’s… Well, I don’t really know. I think he looks the same but... I can’t be sure. I just don’t know, Forgu."

"Is there any way I can help? He's done so much for the tribe, I honestly don’t know what we’ll do without him."

Cara looks me right in the eyes, her lip twitches upward, just for a second.

"You do know that he sent you and Lani out together on purpose right? You two needed the chance to get closer to each other without Lor around. He means well, of course."

A change of subject, not a good sign. In any case, I’m thrown by the minor revelation. I never even suspected such ulterior motives from Madok.

"He did? Ah… no. I didn’t know."

"Hah. He notices more than you think, you know. For all that he claims his expertise ends at the camp’s borders, he likes to keep an eye on you all."

"Speaking of keeping an eye open, have you seen Jormund?"

Changing the subject to Jormund was a good tactic. Her face lights up with motherly pride.

"Ah, he’s off at his usual training spot! Down by the riverbank, you know the one?"

She points in the direction of the river’s southern bank. I nod in recognition. I know the place well.

"Thank you, Cara. And just remember, if there’s anything I can do for Madok… Well. Don’t hesitate."

Next, I head towards the clearing where Jormund should be.

I pause at the edge of the training grounds. Jormund isn’t training, instead he’s making some new equipment, knapping what looks like a simply enormous axehead.

He sees me approaching and sweeps aside a few sharp chips, nodding at me to sit.

I watch over his shoulder, glad to rest my legs for a moment as I wait for Jormund to finish. His intense concentration is understandable: the flint he is working on is huge for a single piece of equipment. I quickly realise that, however he’s doing it, it’s a far more advanced technique than we normally use.

I try to follow what his process and I feel like I’m beginning to understand, but suddenly he strikes the flint just slightly wrong and it shatters completely. He drops the shards and swears, sucking at a small cut on his thumb.

"Damnit, that’s the third time! I can’t get this to work."

"What are you even trying to make? I’d say you’re working with stones that are far too big, but it seemed like you almost had it."

"Honestly, I want an axe that’s better against those damn goblins. The one I wielded when they attacked was supposed to be used for cutting wood, damn it! It wasn’t bad, though, it did some damage, but the heft was wrong and it wasn’t sturdy enough. I need better!"

"An axe? Specifically for fighting? Why not a spear?"

"Spears? Bah! My spear failed me at the moment I needed it most, but my axe remained by my side through the whole fight. Spears are for hunting, Forgu! We need a tool for fighting! Damn, my thumb."

"Ah, yes, about that fight…"

"I know what you’re going to ask, but I don’t know what to tell you. That goblin got me, Lor didn’t imagine that. Then, darkness and I heard voices and saw images and… I don’t know how to explain any of it. It was beyond anything we know."

"You really have no idea? Nothing?"

"I remember light, a woman’s voice, eyes the colour of Jade, and something…"

He shudders for a moment before shaking his head.

"Something incomprehensible."

He hadn’t even flinched when talking about having his throat ripped out. I wouldn’t care to know what was worse than the memory of dying. It seems Jormund didn’t get out unscathed.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Also, what colour is ‘jade’?

"Well. Never mind, I suppose. In any case, I had another reason for coming: I’m taking six of the remaining hunters to try and scout out the lands past the goblin forest. They just lost their main warband, now’s the best chance we’ll ever get."

Jormund looks up, surprise plastered on his face.

"Why? Why take the risk? We can’t afford to lose another six hunters."

"We found some necklaces on the goblins that indicate the presence of another tribe as their neighbors. Apparently they aren’t on good terms with one another, unless you count ripping teeth out to wear around your neck as ‘diplomacy’."

"Ah. And you want me to join?"

He looks at me, slightly bemused and yet, behind that, eager.

"Two reason. You’ve shown that you can hold your own in a fight, and I want to keep an eye on you.

We’ve kept news quiet about your, your… whatever with the goblins, so most people are pretty confused. Those of us who do know are even more confused. So, I want you out of camp and away from difficult questions, for now."

"I understand. No doubt you want to see if I’m about to keel over dead once my bad luck catches up, eh?"

He laughs uncomfortably and stares into the distance, eyes glazed. After a second, he shudders again and turns back to me.

"Alright. I’ll come."

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(Unknown POV)

After gathering my rations for the day I stumble back towards my alcove. The smell of the food, however little, is so very tempting. I need to save it, though. I’m almost ready, I’m so close, I’ve almost stockpiled all the supplies I’ll need.

All that’s left is a few small pieces of equipment, the materials for which are hidden beneath the battered hide I sleep on. A sturdy sack that won’t hang in my way while travelling and a scaled cloak to help against the weather, quickly fashioned by a craft-goblin of my calibre.

Even so, keeping the process hidden from the guards is tricky. Recently the guards have started patrolling in pairs so they can chat rather than watch, which makes things easier. Idiots!

Suddenly, sounds near the entrance. I whip around, trying to hide the cloak in my hands. Shit!

"No need to be surprised, little one. It is only me, eh?"

My grandfather shuffles from around the corner, and I sigh in relief.

"No need to be afraid, hmm? I am just making sure you were going the right way. Heh!"

"What? Going which way? I’m sure I don’t know what you mean! Hah! Ahahaha!"

"Oh, my little one. You can’t hide your little schemes from me, you should know that by now! Yes, I’ve known about your plan to escape for quite some time."

I don’t blame you, mind. This place has gone from bad to worst.

"I have to do something! I can’t just sit here and make armour for the damn hunters, foolish nasty idiot hunters, not for the rest of my life! Nobody but the hunters ever gets out of the hollow and most of the females never even leave the nursery. I want to know what’s out there..."

"Ah, you always were clever. Yes, I shouldn’t be surprised that you’re curious. Well, I couldn’t possibly help you, not at all! You know that, but… Hmm. Well, when you leave, just make sure that you move towards the mountains."

"Towards the mountains? But the grasslands seem so much easier, and there surely are many people to find there. Perhaps even other goblins?"

"Of course, you haven’t heard yet. Five days ago the younger hunters went towards the grassland together with seven of the fang-takers. None have returned. Bad news, hmm. Very bad news.

So, that’s why there are fewer guards, and also why you must leave soon. No time to waste, hmm, young one?"

But… The fang-takers were only the biggest and boldest and bravest of our hunters, our warriors even! The only goblins who could win in single combat against the furred people! If none of them returned, well… Suddenly the mountains seems a lot more tempting than the grasslands.

"I’ll be gone at nightfall. Grandfather... If I do not return, tell sister that I am sorry? Please?"

"I shall. If!"

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(Forgu POV)

Why did I think that taking that boy with us was a good idea? He refuses to use a spear, barely knows how to track animals, and that’s not even the worst of it!

Maybe I’m just stressed, we’ve been travelling through goblin territory for almost two days now. Not only do we have scouts and hunters to worry about, but none of us have any clue what’s edible in this forest, or how to hunt it!

Jormund’s eating habits don’t really help, either. He devours close to double the portions anyone else does and doesn’t even seem to notice! He doesn’t even slow down!

"Forgu, over here. Come!"

I follow Ralnt, ever reliable, through the foliage. We wind through the towering trunks, each a hundred paces high at least, crashing through the denser parts of the undergrowth. Part of my worries come from our inability to stay quiet in this unfamiliar terrain, although we’re already getting better. At least Ralnt has a knack for keeping us moving in a straight line. After a couple of minutes, he stops and I step around him to take a look through the greenery.

Before me is a clearly artificial clearing within lie the remnants of a bonfire, surrounded by eleven charred wooden stakes. On each of them hangs the corpse of what used to be a goblin. Probably. The remains are too small to be anything else.

"Urgh, it’s… it’s horrible. Ah… It seems we’ve found the other tribe we were looking for. Well done us."

"I don’t feel relieved, that’s true. The way the stakes have been positioned around the fire, the flames must have been licking up their legs."

We slowly walk into the clearing, alert to any threat still present. All is quiet, though, and the closer we get the more grisly the details of the scene become.

"Look at the bindings, here, and here. Some of the goblins were thrashing around so much that they’ve torn the cord from the wood. Too late, though."

"I wouldn’t want to assume, but it seems clear that this is not a simple execution. Whoever did this… they wanted to send a message."

"What message?"

"At a guess, “Stay away”."

Come. There’s nothing to be gained by standing here admiring their work. And we still have a long way to go before sunset.

It is only when we’re already many hours distant that I realise that the clearing had been utterly silent. No life dared come close to that cursed place.