Puffs of steam blew through their steel helmets with every breath as they gazed at the intruders. The goblin knights pointed their halberds and stepped together, advancing toward the adventurers. Rings of mail swayed from underneath their steel coverings and the clangs of footsteps echoed the halls. Ryder nocked and fired an arrow in an instant that ricocheted off the steel. Durge swung in a wide berth but the goblin blocked against it, and countered with a heavy swing from the axe-head that chopped into the shield.

Dalon threw his torch at one of the foes before charging with his spear. Hoping it would stun the goblin enough for it to not block the attack. The torch seemed ineffective. Dalon’s swing struck against the shaft of the halberd and was shoved away. The party took a few steps back, waiting for the four-step-tall knights to make a move.

As they neared closer, forcing the adventurers to move back, both of them sprinted toward the party and charged with a wide slice. Durge was thrown from the force of the strike and his shield skidded along the stone floor. Scoundrel dodged underneath the blade and narrowly avoided being sliced in half when trying to stand back up on his injured leg.

Ryder took the focus of the one attacking Scoundrel by firing two more times. One of the arrows struck between the helmet and torso, lodging amid the shoulder and neck. The knight bellowed a deep growl before grasping the arrow and tearing it out of its flesh. The thin shaft of the arrow rolled upon the stone, missing its tip.

The injured goblin sliced at Ryder, wincing when chopping the air. It rested its halberd on the stone as it stared at the intruders and caught its breath. The armor heaved with every gulp of air, steam exhausted through the slits in the helmet.

“It’s tired,” Ryder said.

Durge parried a glance from the other goblin and shoved it back with his mace. “And so am I!”

Ryder took a step back and observed the battle in the hall, “Dalon, focus the one on Durge! Scoundrel, Bell, we can take this one!”

Bell shivered as she gripped her dagger until she saw her brother push back against the goblin, the sweat dripping from his hair, and the utmost determination that he would defeat them with all of his might.

She stepped forward, next to the teeth-bearing ferret. “What do you need us to do!?”

Ryder fired an arrow at the guard’s head, it didn’t pierce through the thick dwarven steel but annoyed the goblin enough to charge at Ryder.

“Tackle him down!” he yelled.

Once the goblin slashed with its polearm, Scoundrel leapt onto the goblin, shoving it against the wall and pressing the halberd close to its chest. Bell reached for its helmet and pried it off, echoing a steel clatter as it rolled along the ground.

The olive green flesh of the goblin looked distorted and mangled. Great scars aligned its face while dark paint, similar in color to the poison, covered its bright red eyes. It pushed Scoundrel away and the beast fell to the ground once again as the pain seared through his leg. The goblin tried to swing down at him but Bell’s dagger quickly entered the side of its head and the weight of the halberd lurched his corpse forward.

Durge and Dalon stood together as the final goblin raised its polearm in position. Dalon mimicked the pose while Durge readied his shield and twirled his mace.

“Swing it, you green bastard!” Durge spewed.

The goblin replied in a harsh and indiscernible tongue filled with snarls and sneers.

“Swing high, after I,” Dalon whispered.

Before the goblin could attack again, Dalon feinted with an attack from up high but pierced from a low guard into the side of the goblin’s leg, slicing the back of its knee when pulling the spear back. While it stumbled forward from the pain, Durge cracked his mace into the side of the helmet, throwing the goblin to the floor.

Durge stepped atop the knight and crushed the mace into the steel helmet over and over. The goblin’s head, flat as parchment and gushing from the sides, Durge bellowed an exhaustive groan and dropped his mace onto the corpse before sitting down.

The two guardsmen, now lifeless, lay silently in the passageway as the party checked themselves for wounds. Dalon was bruised and battered, Scoundrel had scratch marks against his face, and Ryder suffered a slice in the upper thigh when distracting the goblin.

“I would heal you if I could, Ryder,” Bell said, panting.

“He’ll survive,” Durge mocked.

“Tsk. I’ll be okay, Bell, thank you. If it gets bad we still have three health potions,” Ryder said, wrapping cloth around his thigh.

“Where to now?” Dalon said, peering at the split passageways.

“There.” Ryder pointed toward the hall sealed by a wooden slab, painted onto it was a familiar large handprint.

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“The final challenge,” Scoundrel sighed. “Wish I could blink and be in the Guild Hall already.”

Dalon planted his spear next to him, “I feel the same, mutt. But we have a quest to do. We’ve made it this far…even if I advised against this quest to begin with.”

“Let’s pray that we don’t be the reason that another Crimson Skull is stamped on the quest note,” Ryder said, stretching his leg.

“I dare the hobgoblin to try and slay me,” Durge said, eagerly walking to the entrance.

The wooden slab that acted as a door was 10 steps tall. Adorned with dwarven etchings, crude carvings, and ale stains along the wood. Scoundrel could still sniff the alcohol soaked into the table from years past.

“They couldn’t even plunder a real door,” Scoundrel sneered.

The entire party pressed against the heavy table until it revealed the darkness of the hobgoblin’s quarters. The adventurers stood outside the entrance and peered within. A dark purple flame emitted on the side of the room that erupted over the entire room. More purple flames exploded, staying ablaze in small braziers that surrounded the throne.

There the hobgoblin sat. The Axe of Morathira upside down in his hand, the whip on his lap, and a decayed corpse of a scale-beast adventurer strapped to a rack beside him. The corpse now missed all of its limbs as the hobgoblin ripped the last remaining leg from the torso.

Bell covered her eyes while the rest of the party watched as the hobgoblin chewed upon the stringy tendons, spat it out, and laughed. The deep bellowing voice resonated within the large chamber before the hobgoblin rose from his splintered throne and threw the leg at the adventures.

Short for a hobgoblin at nine steps tall, he wore a chest plate made of tied together scraps of dwarven steel with his handprint painted onto it. His grayish green flesh contrasted with his piercing red eyes.

Durge’s shield pressed against his chest as the limb fell at his feet. He gritted his teeth and charged at the creature. Dalon and Scoundrel followed suit while Ryder fired one arrow after another. Some embedded themselves into the monster while others missed or ricocheted. Whether he did any damage or not, the hobgoblin was not showing any sign of injury.

The chieftain cracked his whip into the air and roared as he lifted the great axe high above his head. Dalon and Durge attacked from the front while Scoundrel flanked from the side. The fur-beast dodged the crack of the whip and leapt with two daggers that sliced down his back. Dalon pierced the side of his knee that crumbled the monster onto one foot while Durge hammered at its side.

An arrow shot from Ryder disintegrated into purple flame before it reached the throat of the hobgoblin. The fire then erupted around the monster in a circle, separating the adventurers and the hobgoblin. He stood up and stared at the intruders of his home as he growled and huffed. He took a palm of flame and seared it into his open wounds. The axe and his eyes glowed a vibrant purple hue.

The ring of flame dispersed in a wave and singed the clothing of all. Durge hid behind his shield and smashed the pyromancer with an upward swing. The hobgoblin absorbed the blow and retaliated with a smack from the runic axe, sending Durge 10 steps away.

There was a large scorch mark on his tunic as the oaf stood up, dazed and exhausted.

“A hobgoblin with magical abilities and using the axe as an amplifier… I know not if I should be afraid or amazed,” Ryder said.

“Fucking mages,” Durge said in stuttered breaths.

Dalon exchanged slashes with the meaty hobgoblin while Scoundrel harassed the beast from behind. Any slashes dealt by Scoundrel were closed tight by the flames that speckled over his body. Dalon tried to pierce the chieftain by a gap underneath its piecemealed armor but got it stuck instead. The hobgoblin grew furious and grasped the shaft of the spear, snapping it in two while staring into Dalon’s eyes. The beast put its heavy hand over the party leader’s face but a slash from Bell’s dagger made him toss Dalon to the side.

Bell ran over to aid her brother but as soon as her eye’s met Dalon’s, the monster’s whip wrapped around her. She was pulled into his grasp and the chieftain began to crush her ribs and shattered her dog tag. The sight of his sister being dragged by the beast and nearing the monster’s maw threw Dalon into a frenzy. Dalon gripped the broken blade of his spear and lunged at the monster, repeatedly stabbing over and over as the purple flames erupted over his entire body. In screams of pain, the beast dropped Bell and the rest of the party joined the attack. Ryder, armed with his sword, slashed and impaled the sides, while Scoundrel worked on the legs, and Durge crushed the hand that held the axe.

The grip of the monster loosened, the flames halted, and the blood poured. Durge took the great axe in his own hands, heavier than his shield and mace combined. In a hefty downward swing, he brought it down upon the great foe’s neck, wedging it in the clavicle and burying it deep into the center of its chest. The bellowing growls turned into murmurs of grumbles until it collapsed in a silent pool of brown ichor.

Pulled from the scorched corpse, Dalon was heavily burnt over his entire body. His clothes melted to parts of his armor as he lay unconscious. Bell tried healing him with the rest of her strength, but she forced herself to stop when she grew weary. On the brink of sleep, she could barely utter his name under her breath. Her head felt like a boulder.

Ryder tipped the health vial bought from Rhena’s into Dalon’s lips. His skin felt leathery and rough as he spread burn ointment over his wounds and wrapped him lightly with cloth. Scoundrel held onto Bell as her magical exhaustion fleeted and she came to.

She hovered over her brother, weeping and gripped with frustration.

“Why am I not stronger!?” she held the sides of his neck, once again casting upon her brother. A yellow aura radiated from under his flesh and she soon fell back into slumber. The eyes of her brother slowly began to open.

“Come on, Dal! Get up!” Scoundrel yelled, looming over him.

Dalon looked around, seeing the duo standing to his side and Bell laying beside him. He would have became almost frantic if the health potion allowed him. Instead, the sense of worry was instantly nullified, along with the pain of his burns.

“How fucked am I?” he muttered.

“You’re as beautiful and healthy as ever, darling,” Scoundrel said. “Now get off your ass! We still have a quest to finish and hunters that I’m sure of will return!”

Durge held the axe, great runes and gems embedded in the head that adorned two obsidian blades. He tried lifting it in the air and concentrating on purple fire, but none came.

“You don’t cut it as a mage,” Ryder smugly said.

“Oh, and you do!?” Durge sneered, forcing Ryder to carry the heavy axe.

Bell awoke once again, her brother leaning on Scoundrel. She ran over and wrapped around his body in a great hug.

Dalon winced and groaned, “The potion wore off, Bell!”

She immediately let go and apologized. She gazed at her brother who looked not as critically wounded as she had thought. Bright red fleshy burn scars covered his face, his limbs were wrapped like the dead, but he was still able to talk and limp around.

“If you need another, let me know,” Ryder said.

“Thanks… Potion-Giver.”