28th of Opal
Hopefully the last day of the goblin occupation of Dorenemal. It was still early morning as I carefully followed Aardvark, Ragnar and Fre across the frozen ground outside our structure. The grass crunched as we walked on it, but little other sound was heard in the cool air. Winter was coming to an end, and all of us were eager to finish our first year here well. It had only been about 6 months that the goblins had know of us, and by then it was too late to do anything about it. We had separated the goblins on the cliffs above from those beneath. Now only the final structure lay before us to be cleansed.
I noted the smoothed obsidian blocks framing the entrance way, leaving only just enough space for us to slip in. The structure had appeared to be five or six stories from the outside, taller than our own building, in actuality. Fre had already been through the place and assured us that the first three floors would likely still be empty. They were. At least of the living.
On the second floor we noticed the first corpse. A goblin, still reeking strongly of their unnatural wine. He had four bolts sticking in him. It appeared that Fre had pinned his arms to his body before shooting him in the neck. A single broken bolt to one side told me that she hadn't missed much.
A floor up we found two others. A second drunk. though equally dead. This one only had two bolts in him. One buried deep in his chest, apparently through one lung, and possibly the heart. A second had caught the creature through and eye socket. Apparently it had moved a little after being hit, but not much, and had likely bled to death in a matter of seconds. Two bolts lay shattered against the far wall.
A few rooms over we found a dead guard. One of the bolts had shattered on his shield, leaving part of it embedded in it. Three others lay embedded in the guards body. One in the torso, opposite the heart, but still likely through a lung. He must have staggered to one side after that shot and had exposed his left side as he also had one through his arm and a second in his calf.
By the time we reached the fourth floor my anxiety was mounting. I wasn't a soldier, but I couldn't help coming to watch. I wanted to see what we would possibly be facing in the future. As we neared the area where Fre had spotted our enemy a few days ago we heard sounds of movement from ahead. Ragnar and Aardvark silently approached an corridor, one on either side as Fre pulled a few pebbles from a pouch at her belt and motioned for me to be quiet. She pulled out a small handful and after listening carefully sent a few small ones scattering down the corridor. The sound of pebbles bouncing on smoothed obsidian seemed almost inaudible to me over the beat of my heart in my ears, but something must have heard it.
The goblin turned the corner and began coming down the hall. We could hear it approaching, the soft clink of metal, the quiet incomprehensible muttering. As it appeared Fre loosed a bolt but it went wide, striking the ceiling before deflecting harmlessly away. The goblin saw us and charged right as Ragnar stepped out to greet it. The goblin barreled into him, leading the way with it's hammer as Ragnar too led in with his axe. In a second the two of them lay on the floor. Ragnar stunned and struggling for breath, it having been knocked out of him by the hammer. The goblin hadn't been stunned but hadn't escaped unharmed either. Ragnar had opened up a gash on it's lower left leg. As the goblin stood Fre nailed it in one hip with a bolt and Aardvark opened up it's side with his new axe. From there it was a matter of seconds before Aardvark had laid it open from leg to jaw with two massive strokes, slamming it against the wall near the corridor.
We went silent for a few seconds. We heard nothing moving. Complete silence. I had expected the goblin leader to come charging down the corridor, but nothing. Had he noticed?
Aardvark helped Ragnar up, but I could tell Ragnar was still struggling for breath some and looked considerably paler than normal. I insisted he return lest he do more permanent damage and to my surprise he didn't complain. Simply nodded and went. He was rubbing his chest still. I hoped he wasn't too badly injured.
After waiting what seemed like an eternity we pressed on. Aardvark leading, Fre behind him crossbow at the ready and me following behind. A near silent observer. The hallway ended at one side of a very large room. Easily three wagons wide and maybe twice or three times that long. A dim light filtered down from the other side of the room, indicating the presence of a staircase there possibly. In the darkness I saw him for the first time though. Stasost Usbunguzo the goblin bowman. The irony struck me there. He noticed us and charged, brandishing his bow like a cherished weapon but making no move towards the quiver at his hip. The thought 'I had been right' echoed like the crack from Fre's bolt as it shattered against the far wall, missing him. My goodness he was big. And fast. Fre managed to put her second bolt into his right thigh as he ran towards us. Aardvark assumed a defensive position in front of Fre, shielding her bodily but allowing her room to fire.
Fre's third bolt caught Stasost in the right arm, rendering his shield arm injured, he was still coming and didn't appeared much fazed by the bolts. It wasn't until the fourth bolt took him in the other leg at nearly point blank ranged that he showed shock. A deep ichor rose appeared even through his leather and quickly began to spread. He made a swipe at Aardvark with his bow which was quickly caught and blocked by the axe. Aardvark countered but the goblin sidestepped just as Fre shot, causing her to miss as well. Stastost swung again with his bow, clipping Aardvark on the side of the head, dazing him slightly. But rather than sieze the opportunity he quickly sized up the situation and did what most goblins do at some point. Ran for his life.
Fre's last bolt caught him in the upper arm and knocked him down. Aardvark was sitting on the ground, still slightly dazed as Fre walked over to the prone goblin. He appeared to not be moving. I caught a slight whisper from her as she crushed the goblin's throat with her boot. "That's for Aardvark."
And so died Stasost Usbunguzo, the elite goblin bowman who couldn't use a bow.
I pulled Aardvark up as he shook his head to clear his vision, before going over to check on the goblin. Fre passed me, concern in her face as she went to check on Aardvark who was slowly coming as well. The goblin was dead. Undeniably so. I was quite relieved it had been so simple.
Turning back around to comment I was shocked to see my two friends bloodspattered with goblin gore but fondly embracing. They kissed. Not the friendly peck on the cheek mind you, but one that appeared quite practiced, and more active. I felt warm and awkward at the same time and felt some strange desire to go to the roof to see if it had started snowing yet. Perhaps it was cooler there.