Journal - Goblins West of Freeport

I am not used to writing things down. It's not something the Elvrahüm have ever needed to do much of. But as I may be the last of us, and in fear that my quest to confront and defeat the evil that spreads across Karmana might fail, I need to set down a record that others might follow if needed.

I will not dwell on the terrible events that befell my people, just that the Goblins that attacked us were driven by something worse, something not corporeal, something pure evil. That is what I hunt, and that is what I seek to destroy for the sake of us all.

Now I find myself in the human town of "Freeport" - a real hive of scum and villainy. The humans are wretched creatures, selfish and bigoted. I take what I need to survive whislt I try to find the trail I need to follow, using my size (often a source of humour for the humans) as a weapon against those that would underestimate me. The last few months have hardened me in ways I would not have imagined, and the barbed jibes I have to put up with mean little to me. I hardly even felt bad about having to kill some of these fools, in self-defence as it was, but at least I acquired a few more tools to help me get around this place.

At last I have a trail to follow, faint though it is. There is talk of goblins on the island just to the west of town, even a small settlement of them, so that is where I must go next. I prepare for a long journey, not knowing if I will be back, and even borrowed a strange potion when nobody was looking - perhaps it will help against the evil I might face. I wait until darkness and take one of the better rowing boats from the harbour, slipping out into the darkness with nobody any the wiser about it. I have arrived and morning is nearly here; the centre of the island is higher than the rest, so I decide to head there to get my bearings.

Well this was an eventful day, with much to record. I came to the centre of the island near to noon, and found the horrific but familiar signs of a goblin raid. The people here were human, but they were treated no differently. The only difference was that they were better able to fight back, with many goblin bodies amongst the others.

There was an obelisk, hexagonal, at the centre with Karmana's marks upon it. I was surprised to find this in a human village, a "bone of Karmana" as they were known, a holy place for the mother of creation, and I took a moment to offer a short prayer before moving on. That is when... well whatever happened, it happened then.

A figure appeared, kneeling in front of me, as I also sensed a prescence behind me. I rolled and backflipped to the side, wary and keeping both figures in front of me, swords drawn and ready. Behind me, now to my right, was an unfamiliar creature, nearly human but lithe and with different ears, a real Elvrabor or "elf" had appeared, seemingly a little confused. In front of me, now to my left, was a giant of a human (they were both male) with his hand on the obelisk. He was well over 6' when he stood, carried a sheathed bastard sword, a long bow with quivers of arrows, and had black well-kept hair, chain armour and boots. A white tabard with red trim to it marked some kind of allegience that meant nothing to me.

The other one was tall and slender, still young, dressed in faded browns and greens, leather and cloth mostly but with bands of metal across the vital parts. He had long blond hair tied in a neat ponytail, and was clean shaven. He also had a longbow on his back, and two quivers, but had long and short swords sheathed on his belt. His right hand hovered over his long sword but he did not draw it, although he took a step back in surprise. He seemed as surprised to be here as I was to see him appear, to be honest.

The large one looked hurt, or at least weak, and pushed himself up gradually until he was standing - fuck me he was huge, even by human standards. He muttered an oath "By Karmana!" under his breath before slowly turning. He was actually a very young man, he had looked older when stooped, with dark hair and brown eyes, although he kept them downcast - he seemed almost to be in thought, not reacting to us or his surroundings.

The elf said "I mean you no harm." I was more interested in who the fuck they were and how they had appeared there, and said so.

The large one reacted at last. I noticed now that his breastplate had a star (formed from two triangles) emblazoned on it, with a brilliant sapphire set at the top. He wouldn't make it down a single street in Freetown showing that kind of wealth off! In a flash his sword flew into his hand... perhaps he might make it down a couple after all. He also looked utterly shocked. "It's you!" he exclaimed, looking straight at me.

I replied with words to the effect of "I know it's me, who the fuck are you?"

After more of this awkward exchange I eventually established that the large one was Falcor of Maladan, who had been sent by "Mother", by that (he indicated the obelisk) to find me. He claimed that he was sent to avenge my people, having lost his own in an attack that was also accompanied by evil shades. I was very happy with this of course, and he claimed to be my guardian!

The other was Aradhelon Archarnion (Arad? I can't use that mouthful all the time) - and he had "stepped through a door created by his mentor" from another world. He didn't seem to be intoxicated, so I guess he genuinely believed that.

Neither of them had heard of Freeport or seemed at all familiar with the area, and I was apparently the only one that actually got here in the traditional way - by walking.

We had all had experiences with wraiths or shades or whatever those things of Treddar were, so we at least had a common enemy. Falcor told of how a "First Legion" had arrived at the gates of his castle, known for their black armour with a gold dragon (Elvradrak?) design - these were bodyguards to some emperor "Andivas" and were led by someone thought to be a friend by Falcor, but known as "The Butcher" by Arad, who hated him.

The city Falcor came from was Malladan, which Arad at first misheard as "Milada", the "Hidden One", counterpart to "Talada", the "Lost One" - could he mean Treddar? We all seemed to have different names for thing that might or might not be the same.

Finally we turned our attention to the present, and both had apparently been sent to aid me in my hunt. I confess I had not expected quite such a direct response to my prayers, even in this holy place, but any assistance was welcome.

The village had only recently been overrun and was still smouldering. We agreed to track the goblins to try and help any villagers that had been taken. There were clear signs to the north that the goblins had approached and left that way. Drag marks and blood marks showed clearly that they had taken bodies with them, although it wasn't clear whether they were alive or dead. The trail was so clear that it would not be difficult to follow.

As we started to follow the tracks the others suddenly became really hungry! They started rummaging through their backpacks as if it was the first time they had seen what was in them! What wasn't in them was anything to eat or drink, so I had to share mine and they ate over a day's worth in one go!

Studying the tracks, it seemed that there were about ten goblins that left, which was about half those that had attacked. They kept heading NNW through the sparse woodland that surrounded the plateau the village had sat on. We followed the tracks for two or three miles, taking about an hour, and they began to veer more northeast. Normally it would have taken me longer, but Falcor had offered to carry me... not something that I particularly liked, but if it meant we could save some poor wretches then I grudingly agreed to it.

We spotted some wisps of smoke ahead to our left. We debated which way to go, but I urged to follow the smoke - arguing that it might be another village that we could still lend our aid to. I didn't want to share my fears of finding another altar surrounded by bodies with their hearts cut out, bloody circles painted on foreheads, too late again to help them...

Regardless, we headed towards the smoke. We were near the coastline now, and approached the edge of a clearing where the trees had been felled. On the edge of the coast, about two hundred yards from the trees, was a crude fortified stockade, constructed from the logs that had been gathered. The wall stood about fifteen feet high, with some crude watchtowers on each of the four corners.

There was no visible entrance (perhaps being on the far side), and a little smoke from the centre of compound. What we had seen, though, was a pile of burning bodies about ten yards to the east of the compound, mostly burned out now. There was no obvious movement, and as it did not appear to be in immediate danger we decided to return to our previous target - the goblins we had been tracking. We headed east, hoping to pick up the tracks again, and enjoyed a pleasant afternoon in the woods. However, after a couple of miles we grew uneasy that we had not found the trail and decided to return west before going further south.

Having caught sight of the stockade again, Arad noticed some movement on the tower. Whoever it was was definitely not human, and from his description it sounded like an orc. That didn't mean they were hostile, but they could be aggressive so we would do well to stay clear.

Goblin Pit

We finally found the original track further south, and only had to follow it for about half a mile before reaching a small natural clearing in the woods. There were clear signs of excavation in the centre that suggested something had dug a hole here, and the tracks led right to it.

I started moving quietly towards the hole as Arad and Falcor covered me with their bows. A goblin head poked up, but its lazy scan around missed me. Falcor whispered "what was that", but I didn't want to make any sound, so I just pointed down and ran my finger across my throat, hoping that he would understand that they were the enemy we sought. I kept moving forward, but just before I was able to reach the edge the head popped up again and looked straight at me! It dropped straight down, with a startled look (at least I think that's what the look was, hard to tell with a goblin). I run forward, hoping to catch it, but the hole dropped steeply at first before becoming a more gradual slope and the goblin had clearly slid quickly out of view.

I called for my friends to join me, with Arad jogging up followed by Falcor who was trying to rummage through his backpack for something that might provide light. Not waiting, I leapt into the hole, somersaulting over the lip and then dropping onto the slope and sliding quickly out of view. Arad was a little more cautious, offering a rope to Falcor to lower him down in case he needed pulling out of danger.

I (very quickly) emerged into a crudely hacked-out dirt room about fifty feet square with large ten-foot wide and six-foot high exit tunnels to our right and in the far-right corner. A low smouldering firepit in the centre provided enough light to see by, and the reek of goblin shit and erm... "pork" (they had probably been cooking humans) hit me like a physical blow to the face. There was a pile of body parts and bones in the far left corner, but the more immediate concern was about half a dozen goblins in a loose semi-circle watching the entrance, presumably warned by the lookout.

They probably didn't expect a fast-moving halfling to come charging straight at them, though, and I continued with my momentum, charging ahead and slightly left to close with a goblin I picked, running itthrough with my short sword before it could react. Arad followed at a slower pace, but then dropped his shoulder and charged the one nearest the fire, causing it to stumble back and its clothes to catch alight. He then turned to attack the one next to it, but his swing was put off by the rope attached to him going tight and it went wide.

The goblins seemed shaken, attacking but only half-heartedly and not managing to land a blow. I worked my way down the line to the left, skewering another vermin with sword and dagger. There were goblin reinforcements coming now, though, from both tunnels. Probably half a dozen more came to aid their kin, and Arad shouted to fall back to the entrance. The burning goblin collapsed, removing another threat, but I was stabbed by the last goblin on the left. I flipped backwards, moving too fast for his stab to connect, and saw that Arad had also been hit and was moving back towards me.

Falcor finally squeezed through the gap, which to be fair was a bit narrow for a giant like him, and moved ahead of me. Arad cut one goblin down, but was being surrounded. He killed another and managed to move back into the entranceway, which was much more defensible. Unfortunately he backed into my thrown dagger, aimed at a goblin attacking Falcor, but thankfully it bounced off his shield. Falcor caught the goblin's dagger in some kind of spiked guard on his off-hand weapon, ripping it out of the goblin's hand. Arad was frantically parrying blows, clearly hurt.

Falcor was raked across the face by the goblin that had lost its weapon, but this exposed it to a riposte and Falcor cut it down. Interestingly he then sheathed his sword and dropped his other weapon, instead pulling out a book and started to chant. A fan-shaped dazzling array of bright coloured light appeared, enveloping Arad and the goblins around him. All of the goblins fell unconscious at his feet - incredible! Almost as shocking was Falcor's armour disappearing as soon as the lights appeared... and from the terrified look on Falcor's face, I guess that it wasn't part of his plan. It would have been comical had our lives not been in danger. Fortunately, for all of us, as another goblin attacked the armour reappeared just in time to turn the blow aside. Phew! The sapphire on the armour flashed with light, no doubt playing some part in this weird magic.

Arad also started chanting, dropping his weapons and touching himself, which hardly seemed like an appropriate time. There was no immediate effect as far as I could see, but I noticed afterwards that the goblins started to shy away from him, focusing instead on Falcor.

Falcor quickly stooped to pick up his dropped weapon, then used the swing of his shoulders to cut up into the belly of a goblin, almost cleaving it in two. Arad called upon the "great creator" (whoever that is) to heal Falcor's wounds, which stated to miraculously disappear, and then some of his own. Falcor was raked again by a goblin, but the gouges almost disappeared as they were made, such was the power of Arad's healing.

Falcor finally moved forward so that I could get back in the fight - it was great having a giant friend to fight with you, but he did tend to take up a lot of space and get in the way! Falcor killed a goblin to his left, so I moved to the right and stabbed a goblin that was intent on attacking Falcor, sadly only getting its attention rather than finishing it off. I dodged a blow and followed up with my short sword, which did the trick. Arad killed another, using the advantage that his prayers had given him to get behind them. Falcor slayed another, and now only two were left - one fighting Falcor and the other running for its life!

Arad charged into the one fighting Falcor from the side, cutting it down just as Falcor was trying to shout to stay his hand. I guess he wanted to interrogate it about what lay ahead, but it wasn't to be as it fell before Arad's onslaught. Arad tried to treat both of our wounds, which stemmed the bleeding but it still hurt like buggery.

With two tunnels ahead we could not move forward without the risk of being surrounded, and Falcor and I violently agreed that we needed to do something with one of the tunnels before we could proceed. Falcor offered to set a trap on the tunnel to our right, as I kept watch on the other exit to the front. I helped to move some bodies to disguise the trap as he set it, although it took what seemed like forever and used the rope that Arad had brought. I used a little oil and set fire to a faggot of wood that Falcor randomly had attacked to his backpack. I rolled it down the tunnel to give me better warning of anything trying to approach, although there didn't seem to be any movement.

Well, there was no movement to the front, but behind me something was stirring. The first I knew was when a giant centipede thing with tentacles and teeth dropped from the ceiling beside me! I screamed a warning as the tentacles lashed out. A couple hit me, causing my skin to go numb in places, but thankfully I was able to keep it at a distance, although I also couldn't land a blow on it. Falcor rushed over to help, swinging with a strong attack that sent fountain of goo spurting up from its torso. Arad followed, getting behind it and finishing it off before it could do any damage.

Before we did anything else we paused to talk seriously about what we would do next and why, especially as we didn't know the danger we were yet to face. We also had to face the possibility, especially given the remains in this room, that the captive humans might all be dead anyway. Falcor was particularly concerned about pressing on when we could be cut off from escape as there were two tunnels, a concern that I certainly shared! I pleaded with him to continue - I needed to find out what evil was driving these goblins to raid villages like this, and highlighted the horrible sacrifices and bloody marks left on previous victims. There was more to this than simple goblin hunger, and this was the only lead I had that might allow us to discover more! If we left and returned in greater strength we would risk the goblins moving on, destroying this hole, and lose our only chance to dig deeper into their motivation. What finally swung it was Arad noticing that there were marks leading down the tunnel we had not trapped that might have been made by feet being dragged, so we should at least try to determine what had happened to them before abandoning them to their grisly fate.

I was still holding the wound in my side, with blood down my leg, and Falcor offered to help me. He muttered something with his eyes closed and then I felt the wound knit - being fully restored as if never scratched; miraculous! He said that he was blessed by Milada, which was not a name I recognised, and had been enhanced such that things he was good at before had become far more powerful.