Eala's Goblins
Danic found himself in a clearing, studying the girl across from him. The girl, who was no older than ten, huddled under a clump of bushes. Grime covered her from head to toe. The mud on her face was streaked by tears that had only stopped for dehydration.
Danic leaned on his staff and scratched his greying beard. The girl had the triangular ears and eyes that marked her as a descendant of the Glé, or "pure", elves. The stylistic tattoos on the left side of her face narrowed her lineage down to the Keyll branch of the elven family; who lived in isolated pockets scattered throughout the forests east of the Stormwall, and did their best to revere the ways of their immortal kin.
Danic took a few steps toward her. Little girls didn't often wander in the wilds alone without a reason. But then neither do wizards, Danic mused. He had his reasons, and wanted to know hers.
"My name is Danic, from the city of Astyr Falls. What's your name?"
She hesitated before speaking, "Eala."
"Are you hungry, Eala?", Danic swung his pack of his shoulder and fished through it and retrieved what food he had, "I've got some dried apricots and a loaf of bread. It isn't much, but..."
Danic set the package of apricots on the ground and backed away.
As soon as he was out of arms reach, the girl bolted for the fruit and started gobbling it down.
Danic watched in silence a moment before asking, "Where are your parents?"
Eala stopped eating and tried to cry. Danic wished he'd been wrong.
"What happened?"
She just looked at her feet.
"I would like to help you if I can," Danic said, "But I need to know what happened."
She just hugged her knees.
Danic halted his interrogation. He knew that something bad had happened. He needed to know what it was. He wanted to help her as best he could; and whatever it was could also mean trouble for him later on. Pressing would only have made things worse.
Danic searched his memory for anything that might be useful. He recalled seeing smoke on the horizon the previous morning. With the rain and lightning that were an almost daily occurrence at that time of the year; it hadn't seemed important at the time. But, what if...
"Who attacked your home?" Danic guessed.
Eala gaze fixed on him. She looked stunned. "G-goblins." Her gaze shifted back to the ground in front of her, "The were goblins."
From bad to worse. Goblins worshipped Ulgidro the Unholy. The demon prince who, according to legend, had created the Keyll by severing their connection to the natural world; condemning them to mortality and death. Only a handful of Glé had escaped his ire intact.
"Orinkah is only a few miles north," he said, "The city is well protected and it's king maintains an orphanage that is unrivaled. That would be the best place to go, unless you have family elsewhere. I'm going their to meet some friends. You're welcome to come with me."
Eala nodded slowly. "Mother's family was from Orinkah. Her brothers are still there, I think."
"We'll find your kin. Now finish your food, there is something I need to do before we leave."
There was little time to waste. While there were few Glé left; these woods were the center of their power. The goblins would not have lightly entered a forest haunted by ancient enemies of such tremendous magical prowess. It was possible that whatever task had brought them was still incomplete. If so, they would still be in the area.
Danic his sat cross-legged on the ground, facing west, and sifted through his pack's contents until he found a scroll of parchment protected by a waxed leather sheath. He carefully slipped it out of its protective case, rolled it out on the ground, and weighed down the corners with small stones that he found nearby. Years ago Danic had inscribed the parchment with a simple diagram of three concentric circles and four straight lines that radiated from the central circle at each compass point. The outermost circle was divided again into octants. At each compass point, at the end of the line, was a rune representing its "Wind" or governing principle.
Eala, watched intently; from a distance. The Keyll were shy of sorcery, and for good reason. Even an experienced practitioner risked losing control is he was not careful enough. Eala's people knew this, to some degree at least. On the other hand, this was something new and exciting. Curiosity defeated fear.
Danic put Eala out of his mind and focused on the cask at hand. He closed his eyes and began chanting; mumbling really. He was good enough at scrying that he didn't really need the words to help him focus, but the habit was harmless. He placed his finger in the innermost circle of the diagram, and immersed his consciousness in the flow of power across the landscape. He could feel Eala' presence through the effect she had on the energies that saturated both the world and everything in it.
Danic slid his finger across the scroll, spiraling out from the central point of the diagram. As he did so, his focus shifted. He moved his senses quickly over the terrain, rapidly scanning for the patterns that were unique to goblins. As distinct from those of humans and elves as the flavor of an apple is distinct from that of a peach or a grape.
Danic found the goblins quickly. They were south and a little west of him. No more than a mile and a half away. Danic's stomach knotted, they were closer than he had feared.
The cadence of Danic's mumbling changed and he opened his eyes. In doing so he felt his vision shift and found himself staring down at his own hunched figure. It didn't matter how many times he used this technique, seeing himself from outside his body was always a little disorienting at first, but it passed quickly. He could find the goblins easily enough by Sensation, but he was not familiar enough with the individuals to get an accurate count without additional senses. His vision shifted again, and before him a marched the band of goblins. With sight and Sensation combined, he was able to locate even the most cunning of their scouts. Danic counted them quickly; then he counted again, with the same results. Both counts were fifteen.
Danic packed up his scroll and the two set out, with Danic leading the way. Eala had not slept in some time, forcing them to stop and rest at regular intervals. Danic took these opportunities to check on the goblins progress. They were traveling cautiously, but had divided into search parties of five.
Things changed during Eala's sixth break. One of the search parties had picked up their trail and were gaining rapidly.
Eala didn't argue when Danic insisted on picking up the pace. Fortunately, Eala was young and had an abundance of stamina.
For a time, Danic and Eala were able to increase their lead. Then the afternoon rains came. The air cooled, causing Danic's aging joints to stiffen, and wearing at Eala's already diminishing reserves of energy. The goblins, on the other hand were unhindered by the rain. Though the trail turned to mud; the landscape was still firm when compared to the marshes they called home.
Danic tried to lose their pursuers by choosing a more direct rout across a the foot hills rather than around them, but to no avail. To make matters worse, Danic quickly led himself and his charge into a grotto. The dry stream bed was overgrown, suggesting that the flow had been diverted long ago. The stone walls stood between ten and fifteen feet tall and curved inward. Rain water trickled over the rocks in tiny waterfalls, slicking the moss covered stones before pooling in the center. They would be impossible to scale before their pursuers found them.
Danic's mind reeled, looking for options. He could hear the goblins approaching over the rain. He and Eala turned toward the sound, dreading the sight of the goblins coming around the bend. They were almost out of time.
"When I nod," he told Eala, "scream and play dead."
Danic chanted loudly; filling the air with arcane words. The patterns that were meaningless, but he held on to the hope that it would intimidate the goblins enough to buy him the time he desperately needed.
Danic manipulated the flow of power around him, willing it into a small cloud of fog. He colored it black and made it glow from within. Thin, smoky tendrils protruded from the cloud and writhed hungrily. Danic smiled in spite of the situation.
Next came the tricky part. Heat and cold had never been easy for Danic. The cadence of his chanting changed, and the words mattered. He drained the heat from the cloud as quickly as he dared. The air grew chill and frost began to form on the ground beneath the smoky ball.
Danic's chanting changed again. He nodded. Eala screamed. Danic's cloud mimicked her voice and made it a duet. Even after she stopped, the smoke wailed on. An image of her face appeared in the fog, startling her right off her feet.
Danic ignored the sounds Eala made when she fainted. If he broke concentration now it could be disastrous. He added faces and voices from memory. The cloud grew with each face. he finished with his own face and voice. Then, he collapsed; hitting the ground harder than he intended.
The ball drifted away from Danic just as the boldest of the goblins came into view. Its moaning shifted from voice to voice in its advance on Danic's enemies. The goblin stopped on seeing the smoke. Two more of the goblin's kin joined him, and froze. One retained the courage to throw a javelin at the cloud. The weapon flew through it harmlessly.
The goblins held their ground. Danic's heart sank. He had counted on the goblins mistaking it for an angry spirit. Goblins were frighteningly intelligent creatures. It wouldn't take them long to realize it was just an illusion.
Danic's heart skipped a beat when the cloud lashed out at the lead goblin. The game was over.
His despair turned to surprise when the goblin fell over, dead. The creature's face and dying scream joined the ones that already shifted through the fog. Danic shuddered. That shouldn't have happened. The goblin just blacked out, like Eala. That was all.
The goblins must have thought so too. At least until the second died. The third could not run fast enough for his liking.
Danic's mind reeled as he reviewed his spell. What had he done wrong? Nothing came to him. Under the circumstances, he did not complain; nor did he care to dwell on how narrowly he had escaped killing himself, and Eala too.
He must have had his own fainting spell, because Eala was suddenly kneeling over him with a look of concern. Danic stood and leaned heavily on his staff.
Every wizard had a mental list of the spells he was afraid to cast. Danic's list had just grown.
