Another day, another job, that was more or less the way in which Griswold had been working ever since he had joined the Crimson Lions but a mere few weeks ago. Spending most of his time either training or doing whatever chores needed doing around the headquarters, the life of a junior knight was not all that glamorous, nor did it need to be. In the past week, the knight had seen fit to touch up on his tracking skills a bit by following a pair of trolls back to their lair after they had supposedly subdued and kidnapped a man for unknown reasons. At the time, the knowledge he possessed regarding trolls had not been all that extensive, though it had been enough for him to at the very least find them and make an attempt at brokering some kind of deal which they could understand. Trolls were, after all, not all that bright.

Today however was going to be different. There would be no trolls today for him to broker a peace with, nor was it anything as glorious and praiseworthy as heading into a recently discovered Dungeon before any of the other nations or factions could pillage it. Today, he had been tasked with a mission that might have been a bit above his rank as a magic knight, but was still something he felt confident about. As had been the case with trolls, Griswold had grown up learning a lot about what he might be expecting out in the wilderness where he and his people had lived. Where he had learned mostly positive things about trolls, every single story he had been told with regards to goblins had been extremely negative. So negative in fact that if he were to meet one of them, the best thing he could do was to turn back and make a run for it as he was likely to be walking into an ambush.

Goblins were cunning like that.

What they lacked in strength or magical prowess, they made up for in sheer numbers, tactics and brutality. Usually being no taller than a garden gnome, the greenskins often looked defenseless, harmless even, though that was all a play for one or more of them to sneak up on you and bury a sharp object somewhere in the areas between one’s armor, or just straight into one’s vital spots. With many things still being unknown to him, such as how they managed to learn and plan so well, as well as what their reasons for attacking humans were, one thing was clear. They were malicious little monsters that had made the mistake of moving too far from their lair and having the audacity of attacking a town by the name of Hapshass.

As an outsider, Griswold knew very little about these places, though he knew that it was an important part of the country due to the Coral Peacocks having their base of operations here. Because of the fact that it had forests surrounding the town from all sides, it would be relatively hard to figure out where the little shits came from, or if they were watching the town at this very moment. Even if he had not exactly been known for his skill as a sensory mage, he had developed the skills required to be a tracker, as well as his enhanced senses that would pick up most scents and noises as they passed away from the village and into the forest. If they moved, if they as much as whispered among themselves in whatever foul language they spoke, he would certainly hear it. Standing on the outskirts of town, Griswold turned his attention to the person that had been assigned the same mission as him.

“If there was anything you wished to get out of the way before we get started, some kind of plan you wish to stick to, now’s the best time to do it. Once we enter into the forest to find these little homicidal tykes, the sound of conversation will certainly alert them to our coming, if they are not aware of it already.”

690

Shaking the outstretched hand for a bit, he took his own back and returned it to his pocket. Not knowing a whole lot of nobles, he at least knew some of the last names that were integrated into the magic knights. So while he might not have been aware of just how rich they were, who they were or what they stood for, the fact that one of them had ventured into the common realm and went as far to shake the hand of a filthy commoner meant this one wasn’t all that bad. Or he was merely pretending not to be, which seemed to come as second nature to a lot of them; pretending to be kind while in reality being rotten to the core. Time would tell whether it was the former or the latter, though Griswold could not say that he cared a whole lot about that right now.

Having heard what the guy had to say, he thought about exactly what this meant for them. Goblins might have liked shiny trinkets, but there were things that they liked more than that, and they seemed to be quite ready to get it. Usually when they sent out scouts, it was because they had a force large enough to take a place out through means of trickery, stealth and cunning. If their scouts did not return, it meant that they had bounced off of something that got them killed, and would probably kill the rest of them too. Smart as they were, they were not the kind of creatures that had a death wish. So if there was a big chance that many of them would die, they would just bide their time and try again in a few weeks after their numbers had doubled, or after a few months when their numbers could wash an entire town away.

As such, Griswold doubted that they could trick them into doing anything by luring them into a trap with jewelry or fancy coins. No, they had to go about this differently. They needed to make sure they got a somewhat accurate take on the amount of scouts around, engage them and make sure at least one of them survived to tell the tale. If their leaders learned that magic knights stood in the way of their scouts, they might believe the town was currently packed with the kind of enemies that could eradicate their entire community. With a bit of luck, it might just keep them from attacking the place altogether and migrate somewhere else where their raids might be more successful. Not feeling all too good about that plan either as it might mean them moving into the forsaken realm, a place where they would be more or less unopposed, something needed to be done about the problem they faced at this moment.

“While I get what you’re saying Ravenman, the only Goblins we’ll be encountering are going to be scouts, and they’re not interested enough in trinkets to defy the plan of their leader. They’re here to test the defenses, and if said defenses can be circumvented or taken out, they will return to their lair and the attack will begin.”

Bringing his hand to his chin, he stroked his invisible beard and considered what kind of plan they should be going with. Whenever he faced an issue that spelled trouble, such as enemies that might overtake him either by force or by numbers, he’d approach them from above and attack from his broom. Judging by what Michail said about himself, it turned out they more or less shared a similar set of skills, though Griswold’s was most likely a whole lot less refined. If he flew overhead and attacked from above while Michail attacked from the rear, he was quite confident in the thought that they would be able to get rid of some Goblin scouts just fine. They were not exactly a species bred for single combat, so once their numbers started to dwindle and fear began setting in, there was not a doubt in his mind regarding how fast they would flee the scene. Or rather, the only doubt would be in exactly how fast on account of not knowing the top speed of your average Goblin.

“So my idea is simple. I fly in on my broom and get their attention while raining fire from above. While they come after me, you shoot them down from the rear until most of them are dead. No matter what happens, remember to leave at least one alive.”

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As someone who had no idea how Golem creation magic was even supposed to work, aside from figuring that it likely created some kind of doll or creature out of mud or rock or something, he figured that it would do well as a means of distraction. Claiming that he could make more than one, there was a chance that they could entirely circumvent having to actually fight them in the first place. Goblins were, after all, incredibly cunning creatures that could make the distinction between knowing when to fight and knowing when to make a run for it and escape with their lives. Due to the rate at which they could breed a whole new cohort in mere months, they had more to lose than to gain if they chose to fight a losing battle. It was for that reason that it was often better to kill a Goblin than to let one walk, though there was a clear reason why at least one of them was going to survive today.

“Alright, I like that. If I can ride one of them and fire down from a reasonable altitude, I’d suggest making as many of your golems as possible. If those greenskinned freaks believe they’re at a disadvantage, there’s a chance they won’t even try to attack and will try to get away intact. I imagine those odds will only rise once a couple of them are catching fire.”

Smirking at the thought of tricking Goblins and setting some of them on fire, it was in no way like it had been when he had been fighting to send a pack of wolves… packing. They were creatures that had been forced out of their original territory and were desperate for food, this being the main difference here. These goblins were not trying to just survive, they were trying to expand, and they were willing to plunder, pillage and murder just about anything in their path if it meant getting what they wanted. Still not being entirely sure whether the noble even believed these Goblins to be capable of any actual intelligent thought, it was quite clear that there were a lot more things that he was struggling with. Probably just a bunch of semantics, as that was what their kind seemed to worry about a whole lot more than the lives of those dwelling in the forsaken realm.

“You need to state a condition before helping me save the lives of however many might otherwise die? How noble of you. Fine, lets hear it.”

No sooner than having said those words did it come to light that it was, in fact, an issue regarding what Griswold personally believed to be no more than mere semantics. It was funny to him how someone from a noble family felt the need to address the matter that, if he wanted to get anywhere in life, he would do well not to play with words and remember the name Ravencrest. How could he not, they were just another noble family that likely had more money than they could spend in ten lifetimes, all while there were still plenty of people on the brink of starvation in the northern portion of the clover country. Bringing up that his vice-captain was also a member of the Ravencrest family, he just shrugged at the notion. Truth be told, the only people belonging to the Crimson Lions that he was aware of at this point was his captain for taking him into his squad in spite of not having a drop of noble blood in him.

Then there were the two Vermilion boys, Spike and Cubs that had accompanied him throughout the dungeon they had been assigned to checking out. Though those were not their real names, he had more or less forgotten what they were at this point in time, yet remembered the nicknames he had given them for simplicity. Barely being in the royal capital at all as he was always in the common or forsaken realm trying to help the people that actually struggled, he only knew of people such as his vice-captain by name. The way he saw things, he really had nothing to fear as there was nothing he couldn’t do as a mere commoner that he now did under the banner of the Crimson Lions. So if he were to be kicked out for toying around with someone’s last name, he welcomed the idea of being rid of such stuck-up snobs. Something he would not mind making clear, though now was likely not the time for such things.

“Alrighty, I will take it into consideration, though I won’t go as far as making any promises. So if that was to be your one “condition”, I suggest you get to prepping up those golems. It might be hard for you to hear, but I can tell they’re on the prowl.”

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“No issue at all, just make sure your bird can get me close enough to strafe those greenskins and see to it that they don’t escape too quickly. Remember, at least one of them has to get out. If more of them get away, that’s fine too as it saves us the trouble of having to bring them all down.”

Even though the idea of getting on top of a bird made out of blood magic seemed rather gross, there was very little he wouldn’t do if it meant saving those in need. So even if the people they were saving right now most likely had no idea of the fact that they were in fact being protected at this very moment, that did not change anything. Griswold was not the kind of person that needed the satisfaction of having the people he saved know who he was and praise his name. It was also why he never really went back to the Crimson Lions headquarters to report in person after every single job that got finished. He had much preferred to stay in the forsaken realm so that he could help in the rebuilding of Hage after many of the buildings there had been broken down or were still in the process of coming undone.

Regardless of how many times he went back to the headquarters, or to the royal capital in general for that matter, he imagined word would reach his higher ups when one of the people he had been sent out with did their reporting. At the end of the day, everything went up to the office of the wizard king anyway, so it wasn’t like his squad would not be getting the recognition for his good deeds and hard labor. And that was really all that mattered, that the job got done properly and that the people remained safe for a little while longer. Because as a deranged lunatic had made rather clear to him, there was no way for the magic knights to keep every single soul in the country safe from harm. So without further ado, he got on top of the bloody bird and had it carry him up a little bit off the ground so he could hear that his compatriot was going to monitor the battlefield and control his golems.

“I don’t think those little bastards are going to stay around for very long once they notice large predatory birds, cats and fire coming their way. This’ll be a piece of cake.”

With that, he let the bird take him further into the forest, flying just below the foliage and canopy of the upper trees so he could get a good look ahead of them and would not instantly be seen. All in all, it seemed like a rather sound strategy to have so many golems doing their work at boxing in their targets while raining fire down on them from the back of a large bird. But with every well thought out plan, there was always the risk of running into unexpected setbacks of varying scales. They could run into greater numbers than expected, find that they had managed to pick up civilians along the way to use as human shields, learn that these green rascals could utilize magic and spells of their own and much, much more. Luckily for him, as well as Michail and the rest of the town, this did not seem to be the case. For as soon as he crossed a certain distance into the forest, he saw several of the green imps scurrying along the forest floor.

Moving with great caution, they moved from tree to tree and used the foliage and shrubbery along the ground to cover their approach. Armed with crude shanks and spears made out of sticks and sharp stone tips, they did not really seem like much at first glance, though that was the tricky part. Underestimating them was what had allowed them to kill people who had not expected there to be more than one or two of them, only to find a shank forced down the back of their neck and get beaten to death by a roving band of greenskins that had kept their presence hidden. Figuring that Michail would know what he knew by now as he could seemingly monitor the place through the use of his golems, of which the bird was one, it started a dive towards the ground. Making use of this moment to do exactly as they had discussed, he pointed both of his hands towards two different goblins with his thumbs up and his middle and index finger pointed at them.

Soon after, small magic circles formed at the tips of his fingers as a total of six bolts of fire got shot downward at a rapid pace. With three coming down on either side, the bird that swept down angled its wings so as to take both itself and Griswold back up into the air and outside the range of their crude and somewhat barbaric weaponry. If he had been lucky, Griswold’s magic would have hit several targets as he could really only aim one bolt per salvo. The others were just an addition that made it easier for him to land a hit on moving or on multiple targets, which made them quite useful in this particular situation. Instead of hitting six targets with six bolts, the magic knight managed to hit one in the chest, one in the mouth and one in the foot. While none of those shots were directly lethal, setting some of them on fire was enough to sow some discord among their ranks.

Waiting for the bird to make a turn so that they could come around for another makeshift bombing run, he imagined this would be the perfect time for Michail to bring in his golems and start adding to the fear. For the moment, the scouting part was caught up in a wave of fear that shook their ability to coordinate properly as a result of this surprise attack. This meant that if the lions came in now, it would only further add to the confusion and fear, hopefully triggering their fight or flight responses early on. If they waited, chances were that they’d just turn their weapons on the lions and let violence take over, which was not the best outcome for this situation. Still, though it might have been somewhat early to say; so far, so good.

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There was no getting around the fact, now that things had gotten to the point of killing, that Griswold had to take a moment to ponder on what he had unleashed. As a Shadesinger elf, he had always been taught not to go around killing if it could be helped in quite literally any other way. Growing up mostly vegetarian, he grew up with the belief that all life was worth something to someone or something else. As such, they only ate what they could magically grow on their fields and gardens. From time to time, they would get to eat meat when one of the hunters and huntresses tasked with protecting the settlement had come under attack by a truly vicious beast or when such a creature had decided that it would be a good idea to assault the settlement itself. Not believing in wasting good meat as the kill had already been made, it was something Griswold always looked forward to.

It wasn’t that he hated vegetables, fruits and mushrooms, it’s just that he wanted to be able to eat other stuff too. That said, no matter how much he wanted to eat meat, he had always respected the teachings of the elders because they probably knew best. Now, almost ten years later, here he was in the forest. On the back of a large bird, which had more or less been made out of blood, hunting down and killing Goblins with fire. There were only so many ways in which he could have looked at all this, either from the perspective of the hunters that were killing in order to protect their loved ones, or from the perspective of one who could not be bothered to sit down and have a discussion before resorting to violence. In a way, he was making himself guilty of both, yet of neither at the same time. Griswold was not killing out of love as he knew no one back in town, though he did not want to have any deaths on his conscience either.

Aside from that, he was aware that actually sitting down and talking to Goblins would likely get you a knife in the back of the spine when you weren’t watching your surroundings, having a “seemingly” nice conversation with one’s guard down. Because of the danger Goblins posed, there was nothing they could do aside from killing the vast majority of them. Even as he pondered on the matter while waiting for the bird to turn around for another attack, he watched as lions made out of blood ripped into the Goblins he had set on fire, tearing them limb from limb. All over the place, animalistic golems made from blood magic were attacking the little monsters, leaving only a few in his direct surroundings. Noticing that one of them was making a run for it, it seemed like that was to be the one that they had picked to be the bearer of bad news, returning to whatever lair it had come from to tell the tale of fire and blood.

“Good, we’re almost done here.”

Thinking to himself as he turned his attention to two stragglers, the bird finished turning for another strafing run that allowed Griswold to set the two not yet set upon by birds or lions ablaze. Knowing they would not outright die on the spot, there was nowhere they could run to in order to douse themselves. One way or another, they would die from their wounds or by being ripped apart by predatory golems, which was fine by him. Counting the corpses as he flew above the carnage, the magic knight was very much under the impression that this particular tribe of Goblins would think twice, maybe even three times before they ever planned another strike against Hapshass. With all of that taken care of, there was no longer a reason for him to stay behind and personally supervise the fight from the sky. It was time for him to go back to their rendezvous site.

“Feel free to reel your bird back in, there’s nothing more that needs doing out here. One of them has started his run back home, that’s all we needed.”

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It had been quite some time since Griswold had been in the center of such slaughter, and even by those standards, this one was arguably worse. There had been the time where he had been forced to resort to killing various feral wolves that had lost their homes, making sure they would not come back again. If they did, he would need to kill all of them after all, and he felt plenty sorry for them not being able to hunt in their natural hunting grounds already. But that was not even the time he was referring to. Not too long ago, he had been around a person who quite proactively blew up a store for reasons that would forever remain a mystery, going as far as to drag the owner of the place outside and rip them in half. While being no stranger to death and killing, it had however been the first time he had witnessed it in this manner.

The killing of monsters, and creatures that got elevated to the status of monsters due to coming into contact with large amounts of natural mana, had always been something he had taken part in because it was needed. But this person had just torn someone they had killed in half, doing a macabre little dance with the remains before looking for the next person to fight and kill. Luckily for the civilians in town, that person had been Griswold, who had taken care of the problem for the most part. That was, until his vice-captain had shown up and handled the issue. Come to think of it, this was likely the same person Michail had spoken of before, which explained a bit about his reluctance around him. Truth be told, he could not really blame him as she was ridiculously strong and clearly not a person he could even hope to match up to for the time being.

Leaving the scene of carnage behind him as his bird flew back to where Michail called it back to, the scent of blood disappeared rather quickly, making place for the lovely blend of scents of the forest. At least, it did so for a little while. Once they returned to their point of origin, the bird swooped down low towards the floor before dispersing, dropping Griswold off roughly a meters above the ground. By that point in time, he had already noticed the dead goblin, as well as the damage it had sustained leading up to his death, or possibly even after. That, and there was the fact that the scent of blood had returned as he approached. Upon approaching him, Michail claimed that the job had been done, and that it had been done well. Whether he just liked the fact that they had been victorious in the execution of their plan or if there was maybe something more to it, it was strange to see him grin and chuckle like this.

“Yes, quite right. One of them is probably close to his lair by now, sharing the news and being punished for their failure. For such little guys, they are quite vicious, and not nearly as dumb as you might expect. To think one managed to sneak past me and all of those golems is proof of their… ingenuity.”

Looking over the dead body from where he was standing, he saw the crude weapon the goblin had wielded which looked more like a shiv than an actual knife. Noticing the slight amount of blood on the tip, Griswold wondered whether it was still there from previous fights or if something had happened here. Part of him wanted to believe the latter, as the grinning and chuckling did not seem to fit with the imagine he had in his mind of Michail. Prior to the fighting, he had been rather reserved and eager to tell him what to do, especially in relation to his family, the Ravencrests. From someone who had been so utterly incapable of taking a joke before, the grin and laughter sooner created some unease than the likely intended. Not entirely sure whether he should ask or not, there was really no way for him to figure out what had happened if the guy wasn’t willing to share. As such, he figured he’d take things into a different direction.

“So uh, with the threat averted and most of the greenskins sent home, I imagine you’re likely quite ready and willing to go back home to your fancy capital and go through the whole debriefing process. It’ll likely earn you a bit of praise, as I doubt you’re actually in it for the money. If that’s the case, feel free to go and do exactly that. If you do, I won’t need to return to the capital as I really do not want to.”

If it could be helped, Griswold would like to be able to both earn his paycheck, as well as stay in the poorer regions of the country where his help was actually both wanted and needed. Nobody really needed him in the royal capital, nor did an overly large portion of nobility want him there as a commoner. In those respects, one might say that he wanted to not be there almost as much as he was not wanted to be there, which worked out just great for the wandering mage. Before he would get any kind of struggle or backtalk, the best thing to do right now seemed to explain his reasoning for not wanting to go back there in a way that was so diluted and simple that even the dead goblin at their feet might understand it. Leaving out the part about how he hated most nobles, he stuck to the bits and pieces that actually mattered right now. If Michail saw fit to refuse and request he come back with him, Griswould could always throw that much in later.

“There are plenty of things to do out here, especially in the forsaken realm. Unfortunately, most of those pleas for help do not make it all the way to the royal capital, and many of those that do fail to do so in time. My presence is not required in the capital, but as a noble, yours just might be.”

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“...Yes.. Gristhwald Grimchild, expert in the field of all things goblin. I can excuse forgetfulness as it’s been a rather taxing endeavor we’ve undertaken here today. Truth be told, I could have gone a long time without ever having to go through something like this again. Killing is always a sad thing, more so if they are sentient enough to understand what is happening, though I guess that also makes them smart enough to know not to try and kill others.”

It was a rather difficult thing to think about like that, as there was really no way of making it all seem more relative. No matter how you would go about spinning the truth and making things seem less bad than they were, they had killed well over a dozen of the little greenskins here today. True, there was no way around it as Goblins were not the kind of creatures that would back down without a show of force, and even if that much were to be factored into the equation, they would likely just come back with greater numbers and more skilled individuals. As someone who was still getting over the fact that he had been forced to cull quite the large amount of wolves unfortunate enough to have their living space destroyed, one might imagine how this hit him slightly harder as these things could actually ponder on the meaning of death and dying.

“Anyways, as far as I am aware, and that is only because I wasn’t raised in your typical school… or in your case, by a private tutor most likely, Goblins are the kind of beings that punish failure with death. Their whole culture revolves around learning from the mistakes of others so as to not recreate the same mistake. And the fastest way to teach someone not to repeat a mistake is to kill them in front of everyone else.”

Because he had been raised in the Shadesinger enclave, back when it was actually still around, Griswold had been told a lot of things about the natural world, as well as the strange mutations and evolutions to it through the application of natural mana. Within the fringe, there was really no limit to the amount of creatures one might encounter that had been given strange new abilities. Creatures like an ordinary stag that had been given antlers capable of producing blasts of lightning, or bears that had grown defensive barbs and belched fire. Though those were just examples of some of the things that were out there, or potentially out there, no one really knew where Goblins had come from. Whenever they had been brought up, it was said that they were linked to the earth and were in some cases capable of molding earth mana in the form of magic, though this was a rather rare thing to witness.

So rare in fact, that only a single Shadesinger huntress had ever even encountered it. What was more widely accepted was the fact that Goblins and Trolls were distant relatives, as they too had a strong connection to earth mana and shared a kind of tribal way of life. Where Trolls had not developed their own language and instead spoke a broken form of the human tongue on par with that of a very young human child, the Goblins had actually developed a language that was their own, as well as possessing a firm grasp on the human language. It made sense that that was how nature had split things, giving the large brutes poor language skills, while the smaller race had been blessed with intelligence and cunning. Temporarily breaking his line of thought when Michail brought up the matter of how he had been wanting to become a Captain of his squad some day, a strange silence fell over them before the guy decided that it was time for him to head on back.

“In any case, you should go back to the capital and inform the wizard king’s office of what happened here today. It’ll get you one step closer to your Captain rank, and it’ll get me a bit of spending funds. For now, I’m going to go back and burn the bodies, as they deserve at least that much. If anyone needs me, I’ll be heading to Kikka to pick up my new broom before heading back to the forsaken realm. Good luck on the journey back home, Ravenboy.”

Though he could have asked what the issue was that came on after bringing up the notion of some day becoming a Captain, the elven mage imagined that that was truly none of his business. The way in which he had begun to understand this country was that nobles did not enjoy commoners meddling in their affairs, and so he refrained from doing so just this once. And with that, Griswold started wandering back into the treeline, slowly heading back to the site of all that carnage, of all that death. He was not lying when he said that he felt that even Goblins deserved a proper cremation, sending them on their way into the next life. If there even was such a thing as a next life. As an elf, it was a concept that had been taught to him repeatedly, though he had always been struggling with the idea, especially with the afterlife told of in the narrative of the church of clover. But regardless of that, it was still a task he wished to undertake before he could go back to his travels with a …. relatively clear conscience.

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EXIT