I made my way down the cramped street vendors, dodging the worst of the traffic and rubbing shoulders with other elves in the tea leaf district. Every inch of the lower half of the city was made for business. Shops as far as the eye could see, the bottom floor of apartment buildings were storefronts, and if people didn’t have a store they sold out of their wagons. If you had the coin you could get just about anything here, and I meant anything.

I dipped down a dark alley, and narrowed my eyes. With my natural talents I was able to pierce through the darkness and find my way to my chosen destination. I rapped my knuckles on the dark plank door and waited a moment before knocking three times in rapid succession. The guard on the other side ushered me in and I waltzed into The Underside.

Here was the place you went to get anything that wasn’t above, or you didn’t want anyone to know what you were buying. I looked out in the twisted twilight of tight corridors and hidden spaces, saw my destination and skipped my way there. On the way I saw a large man drag out a table and I waved.

“Good morning Willow,” said a burly nine foot tall minotaur. He had a selection of blades forged in rare metals laid out on his table. “Fancy selling that sword of yours yet?”

“Morning Sergi, and no, it was my dads,” I said, instinctively reaching for my old shortsword nestled neatly in my pack. “Can’t sell it for the world I’m afraid.”

Sergi tugged at the little tuff below his chin and looked at where I was going. “Not sure why you deal with that crook. Not that I’m not one myself, but he's the worst out of the bunch down here.”

“He owes me big time, so can’t beat the price,” I said, shrugging.

“Very well. If you ever want to upgrade your normal blades, you know where to find me,” Sergi said, turning back to setting up his shop. As I moved away he snorted and got my attention. “Actually, if you are heading out on a quest can you keep an eye out for upgrade shards for me?”

“Upgrade shards?” I asked, scratching at my head.

Sergi held up a jagged grey and black rock that had flecks of purple dotting its edge. I reached out my hand and flicked a spark of magic towards it. The rock responded by glowing brightly, showing off an inner light of purples, blues and yellow.

“I can use it with normal steel weapons, and a dash of silver powder. After a round of reheating in fire salts I can reforge a weapon and make it magical. Less expensive than outright crafting them, and they are quite stable,” Sergi explained, showing me a few weapons he had recently made in such a fashion.

“Can you add enchantments on top of it?” I asked with a light of excitement in my eye.

“Of course. Better yet, get a mage to write you a spell effect on a scroll and it can be burned with the fire salts and added to the weapon,” Sergi said.

“You really are a master blacksmith, Sergi! Do you have something for your prices?” I asked.

“Sure thing, anything for my favourite elf,” Sergi said, handing me a pamphlet.

I waved, continued on and took a glance at the paper. I felt the colour leave me by the tips of my ears and I shoved the pamphlet into my bag. I could barely afford to feed myself, and Sergi was asking a king's ransom! If I could only persuade him to lower his prices, maybe then I could think about it.

I reached a shop with a sagging storefront with no signs, no lights and no indication anyone lived here. I opened the door and moved inside to see a familiar sea of junk covering every available surface in the store. I carefully navigated my way to the front and tapped on one of the many bells strewn about the counter.

“We aren’t open!” shouted a furious man from the back.

I waited and saw the back door burst open, knocking a stack of pots onto the ground, shattering them into clay dust. I could only see the top of his head, and a rather bizarre raccoon tail hat he wore. He stomped up to the counter, jumped on a stool and glared at me.

“Morning Rhast,” I said.

“Oh, it's you,” Rhast grumbled. He picked at his wild grey beard and swore at me in his native Gnomish tongue. “What do you want?”

I put the quest page down on the counter. “Supplies. I got a big pay out and need it on my tab-”

“No more tabs!” Rhast screamed, waving his hands around like a mad man. “Get out!”

“I just need a sedative, a potent one. That’s it,” I said, mentally cutting my losses and hoping to get the one aid at least.

“Fine. One dart,” Rhast said, rummaging around his pockets. He produced a vial with a razor sharp quill embedded in the cork top. “Push in, tear out, stick it in your foe. Even you can’t mess this one up, Willow.”

I was speechless and scoffed. “One quill? Just one? What if there two-”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

“I don’t care! Figure it out. Until you come back here and pay your debts you are not welcome here anymore. So get going elf, before I call the Underking’s guard.” Rhast said, sliding me the vial.

“I’ll be back, you’ll see,” I said, taking the vial.

“I’m banking on it,” Rhast said, crossing his arms.

I left Carrington through the tunnels of Underside, ending up at the cemetery outside town. I saw a few thugs smoking pipes by the exit and they grunted their greetings to me. I waved and walked past them, ignoring the whistles I heard. It was their code to let the hidden crossbow men know I was an approved visitor.

I moved on from the abandoned grave stones, the resting dead long forgotten. I took the opportunity to check over my gear, one last time. I had my longbow and arrows, a staple of any ranger. I had my twin pair of shortswords and clipped them onto my belt. I had my daggers, my totally not weighted dice set and my travel kit. Finally nestled between my blanket and spare water was my family's old sword. It was a hair longer than my shortswords, and had a strange design that was still elven in nature. Strangest of all, it was pitch black, with gold and red faded engravings.

“Thing is probably cursed for all the good it's done,” I mumbled before packing my gear back up.

I checked over the quest note again. The directions made it seem like it should be easy enough to find the lair. All I needed to do was follow the old yeoman’s trail east, cut north at the river for an hour and there should be the goblin cave. Then I just had to root around, find this old bracelet and it would be smooth sailing for a few days.

I strung up my longbow and uncapped my quiver of arrows. I ran my fingers through the shafts feeling a sense of calm take me. I was now ready. I set off at a brisk pace, gliding through the underbrush as if I was a ghost and the forest was allowing me passage. The first hour of my journey was uneventful, just an easy hike along a trail.

As I grew nearer to the goblin cave I felt the woods shift, the welcoming motherly trees gave way to newer, nastier young growth that cared little except for their own needs. I felt uneasy all of a sudden, as if many eyes were peering down at me.

I stopped dead in my tracks and raised a hand. In my native tongue I started the old greeting, “My name is Willow, I am a friend-”

“She lies!” hissed a shrub beside me.

“Heretic!” a tree said in a frenzy.

“Uh oh,” I said, taking a step back. Maybe this wouldn’t be so easy after all. “I can see your busy, I’ll just head-”

“Attack!”

I spun around and in a flash I sent an arrow towards the source of the voice between two birch trees. I heard a strangled cry and a creature stumbled out, leaking sap from its wound before collapsing. It was shorter than me, stockier and looked humanoid. Clutched in its hand-like appendage was a brutal club filled with venomous thorns and jagged pieces of flint.

“Woodland blights,” I said solemnly.

The woods around me rustled angrily. Something was fouling the air and corrupting the nature spirits in the land. The forest was no longer a safe haven and I ran towards the city, only to find my way blocked by thick brambles.

“No escape….” wheezed the wind.

“Oh, that’s just perfect,” I spat.

More of the woodland blights came out of the woodwork. They were all shapes and sizes, mimicking gnomes, dwarves, humans and elves. Their bark skin was thick and could absorb weak or glancing hits, I would need to put power behind my attacks, or I was doomed to fail.

“Get back!” I shouted, shooting off a rapid flurry of shots, downing three of them in a heartbeat. I saw more take their place, and the trees overhead reached down with grasping limbs, trying to get me. “Step of the wind!”

I clutched my old amulet to the moon goddess and channelled my magic. I bent the foul winds around me, purifying them and adding their power to my own. My boots glowed and I turned around, running towards the sound of running water. I was even faster now, as a tailwind pushed me along, and I out ran the blights.

I was a seasoned adventurer, and could take care of these, but I also wasn’t stupid. This was a fight that wouldn’t pay, so I hopped over a fallen log and searched for the river. More brambles closed in to block my escape and I pushed myself hard, leaping past them and earning myself a few scratches for my efforts. I hit the ground and rolled down the side of the river bank, dodging the brambles. My sides hit hard onto the river stones and I wheezed.

“Not out of this yet,” I reminded myself. I pushed back onto my feet and jumped from stone to stone to follow the riverbank. Only after I got a fair distance from the dark presence behind me did I allow myself to relax. I panted and leaned against a willow tree hanging over the edge of the river. “Hey, we are cool right?”

The willow tree dangled a branch near me and patted me on the back. I had escaped the dark zone of the forest and was back on normal ground. Whatever was happening here was shaping up to be a real thorn in my side. I tossed my bow down beside the willow tree and sat, deciding it was time for a quick breather.

“Willow, what have you got yourself caught up in now,” I groaned.

Last night my only concern was how many more drinks could I get, and who might take me home. Now I was cut off from the guild, I was nearly broke and had only the gear on my back. My body mentally gave me a smack on the back of the head, we could have stayed in town, maybe flirted with Morgan more. Maybe I could have stayed the night with her.

I picked at a few dried berries in my pack and sipped my canteen as my mind kept wandering back to Morgan. A night in with her probably ended up with cake in bed, and I wasn’t too against staying with the rather nice looking woman. In fact it had been a while since I had kicked back and relaxed the night away with anyone.

I reached into my pack and thumbed at the pommel of the old family sword. The light filtering through the willow tree glinted off its black metal body and I wondered where my family was.

“One step at a time Willow. Get the job done, get laid, get back to finding the folks,” I said, trying to bring my mental energy into focus.

For whatever reason it worked, as if a voice in the back of my head agreed completely with that plan. I couldn’t help but smile, for once me, myself and I were in agreement.

“Thanks friend, keep the forest safe,” I said to the willow tree.

I sprang back onto my feet and continued to follow the trail, knowing I was getting close to the goblin cave. The tree wished me well on my journey and with its well wishes I felt invincible.