For every goblin you see, there’s another ten you don’t. They never attack without the advantage. They’re the bane of low-levels. They’re small, sneaky, breed fast, smarter than they look, and cowardly.

So why was this one grinning at us?

Stay calm. If this was simply an ambush, they’d have attacked by now. It didn’t make sense for one to make itself known when they could’ve just shot us with relative impunity from across the ditch. But that grin… I’d never seen anything look so sadistic. Or was I just racist against goblins?

“Well hey, lil’ buddy,” said Topher in lilting condescension. “You kill these people all by yourself?”

I glanced down at the bodies and immediately regretted it. Most of them were riddled with slitted punctures - arrow wounds. One of them, a large shirtless man, seemed to have had his jugular sawed away. This must’ve been terror tactics. They wanted us panicking before they peppered us from across the ditch. But that didn’t make sense; why not just attack? Several arrows out of nowhere would be more harrowing than a smiling goblin.

Jenn had her shield up. “Who… or what, is your friend?”

Unless it wants us to know what’s about to attack us. That could imply they’ll leave one of us alive to tell the tale and spread fear. Or that they’re out for some sort of vengeance against other races, and want us to know why we’re being killed.

“It’s a goblin,” said Topher. “At least, I think it is. Do you speak Common, gobbo?”

We were all looking one way, so the smart plan would be to attack us from behind, and yet the smarter plan would be to just fire arrows at us from across the ditch. Could be both. The ones behind us would probably be lying down to avoid the first volleys, then. Kevin was supposed to scout around - why hadn’t he contacted us?

I could’ve sworn I saw a twitch of annoyance in the goblin’s face. “Yes, halfbreed,” it said, choking out the words. A slight breeze waved over the tall grass. I tried to use the movement to help spot any goblins that might be hiding in it, but couldn’t see any. “And no; alone, I did not kill them.”

Topher smiled. “Kill them not did you alone?” he mocked in a Yoda fashion.

“Six goblins. Our side. Hiding,” came Kevin over a Message cantrip.

I swallowed. Knowing they were behind me made my spine itch.

“Are they prone?” I soundlessly responded.

No response. The goblin was giving Topher a quizzical look, to which he shrugged. “Oh, nothing - just someone you remind me of. Take it as a compliment.”

“Five now. And yes, prone.”

That meant we were surrounded, and the ones on the other side of the ditch would attack first. I slid my hand along the neck of my lute and prepped my magic.

“So where are your friends?” asked Jenn.

The goblin reaffixed his smile. “They are close.”

We all jumped simultaneously at the sound of surprised screams. Kevin must have been spotted. “Everyone down! Now!” I yelled, swinging my lute strap off and hitting the dirt.

There was the sound of air being rent as arrows flew over my head. My adrenaline surged. Neither Topher nor Jenn ducked in time, but it seemed the goblins were only focusing on me. Great. “Get to cover in the grass!” I said, rolling. “And watch out for more! Be ready to fight!”

The world spun from grass to ground to clouded purple sky as I rolled. A couple arrows hit around - thok, tink, whoosh - but none of them struck me. I kept going until I was out of the road - grass to ground to sky to grass to ground to grass to sky to—Goblin!

I barely had time to note how much worse they look up close when it drew a blade. I cursed myself - I was lying on my sword arm. I dropped the lute from my off-hand and grabbed its wrist. It struggled against my strength, hairless brow and wide mouth tensed. I tried to shift my weight to free my other arm, but when it realized it couldn’t break free, it switched the blade to its other hand and stabbed me in the gut.

My armor kept the edge from sinking straight in, but the goblin still managed to tear through the leather and split some of the flesh on my side. I roared in pain at its smirking face, rage allowing me to shove the little bastard away. It landed on its feet and bounced right back at me, sword first. I had no time to react.

A mace swung through the air over my head. Jenn backhanded the goblin right in the jaw, causing its feet to fly out from under it, landing on top of its head. It was a critical hit if ever I saw one. The goblin, head partially dislodged, laid motionless. I collapsed flat on the ground and let my heart get back to beating correctly.

Jenn knelt down. “Are you alright? You’re bleeding.” She brought her shield up towards the road, stopping two arrows from hitting us.

My breathing was heavy. “I’m fine,” I huffed. She gave me a disbelieving glare.

There was a cry of desperation followed by a sickening squiltch sound. We looked over to see Topher on the upswing with his glaive, a spray of blood following it in an arc. All at once, four arrows shot out from the grass, three piercing through his chainmail and into his back. He stumbled forward at the impacts.

Without conscious thought, my magic limb reflexively yanked out an emotion.

Love.

That wasn’t something I’d be telling Topher about later. The love flowed into my throat and resonated with my vocal chords as I said, “Sanare.”

In an instant, Topher was surrounded by a flicker of golden light. “Get down, idiot!” I yelled, any trace of affection gone from my voice. “Go see if he needs more help,” I ordered Jenn. “I’m going to see what I can do about the archers.” Jenn grimaced at being told what to do, then made her way. She disappeared further into the grass.

“There’s one left on our side!” Kevin’s voice came from nowhere. “Keep an eye out!” Suddenly he was kneeling next to me. “Good time for a Sleep spell, right?”

“A better time would’ve been before they attacked,” I admonished, pushing through pain to slowly sit up and grab my lute.

“Hey, be quicker on the draw, then.”

I smiled, the touch of levity going a long way towards improving my mood. “Then you be sneak—watch it!” I shoved him to the side as a spear flew past where his head was. After what must’ve been a Goblin curse, one pulled out a short sword.

Kevin used the momentum to roll onto one knee, bow readied and trained on the newcomer. Half a second later, there weren’t any more goblins on our side to worry about.

The movement caught the eyes of the attackers from across the way. Two arrows sang past, one grazing Kevin’s shoulder.

“Gah!” he exclaimed, more from frustration than anything. He dropped prone as a few more arrows flew by. “Where’s that Sleep spell?”

“Yeah, yeah,” I grumbled. “Tell Jenn and Topher to be ready to charge over the ditch - loud enough that the goblins will focus on you, alright?” He nodded and got to it. I rolled onto my knees. With a quick inhale, I sent my magic limb back into my soul, having it pull out… a strange emotion. Strange compared to the others, at least. While others moved about in my grasp, this one was frighteningly still. If I had to give it a color, it’d be grey.

Calm.

Was ‘calm’ even an emotion? Wasn’t it a lack of emotion? Didn’t matter. I held my lute and prayed they wouldn’t spot me in time to stop me. “For night is dreamless,” I invoked, standing. The words boiled down into the calm, solidifying it into a heavy block.

At this point, if I had one of the proper components, I’d either sprinkle sand from one hand to another, blow rose petals into the air, or piss off a cricket by violently shaking it in its box. As I had my lute, though, I could forgo all of those by playing a song that exemplified calm.

Just three notes of Brahms’ Lullaby catapulted the block of emotion out of me and into the far side of the ditch, landing in an unobservable explosion. I immediately dropped prone, ignoring the pain in my side.

“Guys?” I called. “I don’t know how many I got, but now’s our best time!”

“Heavy armor first!” added Kevin.

Topher’s voice came from another part of the savannah. “You hear that, Jenn? It’s like they want us to get killed!” he half-joked.

Jenn was brooking none of it. “Aww, do you want to hide behind me, Mr. Big Green Monster?”

“Please - ‘Mr. Big Green Monster’ is the name of my junk. I’m Tophercion the Terrible!” And with that battlecry, he charged. Jenn followed.

“We’re next,” I said, kneeling like I was on a starting line.

Kevin drew his rapier with one hand and held out a fist with the other. “Been a pleasure, Jack.”

I let my soul pulse as I bumped his knuckles. “Fuck’em up, bro.”

“Hey, now that was inspiring!”

And we were off.

“I’m well aware of who you are,” said Minerva. It was true - everyone knew who he was. Everan the Ugly Bastard Child of Rorke Street. Everan the Urchin Wizard. Everan of the Six. Everan the Soul Splitter. Everan the March Savior. Everan the Hero of the Demon War. Everan the Crystal Artificer. Everan the God Blinker. There were dozens—hundreds—more, but Minerva knew better than to treat him differently than anyone else. “What makes you think you can take over this investigation?”

“As far as you’re concerned,” he said, radiating measured composure, “what I think doesn’t matter. Your superiors made this my investigation, and you should care what they think.” He produced a sealed envelope and handed it to her. She took it, and could’ve kicked herself when she realized she didn’t want to come into contact with his hand - while he was as big of a celebrity as any wizard could hope for, he was horrifically ugly, but she should’ve been able to resist the urge to wince at the prospect of touching him. She found herself wondering why someone with his power and resources didn’t simply make himself look… well, less like a shattered brick.

She broke the seal - which was genuine - and read the orders inside. By the end she was more convinced of a conspiracy against her. “So how can I be of assistance?” she asked, making a point to keep her eyes on his. “Would you like to see where the incident took place?”

“It was my first stop here. I’ve already gleaned all I need from the site.”

She cocked an eyebrow. “I see…” She found she had to ask, “How long ago did you get here?”

“Ten minutes or so.”

She blinked. “I… understand you’re very powerful, Master Everan, but—“ she shook her head. “Never mind. I’m sorry. I should be answering your questions.”

A hint of a smile came and went over his lips - the first sign he had emotion, she noted. “It’s alright,” he said. “It didn’t take me long because I was at the site when the explosion went off.”

Minerva blinked a few more times. “You… Do you mean you were scrying the area at the time?”

“Not at all. I was standing but ten yards from the detonation.” Her face had gone blank, so he added, “But that’s not a story for your ears. You made mention of adventurers in your report - four of them, correct? A human male, elven male, half-orc male, and a half-elf female?”

The mention of those people snapped her out of it. “Yes,” she said.

“I’d like to speak with them,” he said.

So would she. “They’ve gone missing.”

“Indeed?” His eyes moved to a corner of the room as he thought. “Unfortunate. You mentioned talking to them. Did you scare them off?”

Her face became cold. “I… may have.”

He gave the softest sigh she’d ever heard. “Disappointing.”

The thought of the greatest living mage in Dungeonia being upset with her was frightening - but somewhere the fear switched wires and became anger. “I was doing my job, sir.”

With no measurable sign of interest, he looked at her. “Maybe that’s why it’s my job, now.”

That stung. She pressed her lips together in practiced control. When there was a knock on the door, it was Everan that bid them enter.

Hogges stepped in, feeling immediately uncomfortable with being in the presence of Minerva’s disposition. He saluted and got down to business. “Captain, there’ve been a couple developments—“

“Direct your reports to him, Hogges,” ordered Minerva, bitterly.

“…Yes, ma’am.” He turned to Everan. “There’ve been a couple developments, uh—sir.”

“I once held the rank of Brigadier General,” said Everan, almost musingly. “It was years ago, but you may address me as such, Sergeant Hogges.”

“Yes sir, General,” said Hogges, suddenly more nervous. He looked down at his notes. “First: Gregor, the priest of the local temple, said a half-elf and a half-orc came in earlier asking about burials for people over at a mausoleum two miles north of town.”

“Unimportant,” said Everan. “Inform the priest that he needn’t bother - the bodies are no longer there. Next?” Minerva gave Everan a quizzical look which he didn’t acknowledge.

Hogges pressed on. “Second: a local shop owner was found tied up in his store. He said it happened when a large human and a red-haired elf tried to sell him the Consul’s dagger of office - they tied him up when he refused.”

The corner of Everan’s lip twitched. “I imagine there’s more to the story,” he said, expectantly.

“Er, yes, sir. We searched the shop, Finknottle’s Finest, and discovered various contraband and evidence connecting the proprietor to the Thieves’ Guild. We arrested him, locked down the establishment and confiscated the dagger as evidence.”

“They left the dagger?” asked Everan.

“Yes…” said Hogges, rescanning the notes. “It does seem they took a small, blank journal, though.”

Minerva shot a quick glance at Everan. “Are we sure the journal they stole was blank, Hogges? Don’t we only have the Guilder’s word on it?”

Hogges looked to Everan, who nodded in permission. “Well, yes, we only have Finknottle’s word, but they, uh, didn’t steal the journal - they left the proper payment for it on the counter before leaving.”

To the complete surprise of the other two, Everan burst into laughter. “I’m sorry,” he said, finding difficulty in composing himself. “I’m just reminded of someone. I don’t believe the journal will be an issue. Anything else, Sergeant?”

“Lastly: It seems Private Lestan heard a strange voice while guarding the entrance to town.”

Minerva lowered her brow. “That must’ve been a distraction so they could get out.”

“What did the voice say?” asked Everan.

“There were a few of them….” Hogges consulted his notes. “Let’s see… ‘Got your coinpurse’, ‘I’m Batman’, ‘I am the terror’…” he turned the page, “...‘That flaps in the night’. That’s all.”

“Message cantrips, most likely,” said Minerva, annoyed. “He should know better.”

Everan nodded. “If there’s nothing else, Sergeant, I have orders.” Hogges straightened himself, prepared. “You are to ready Finknottle for prisoner transport, confiscate anything dangerous or illegal from his shop, lock up the rest for auction later, inform Gregor why he need not visit that mausoleum, and assemble all your troops outside this house once everything’s finished. I’ll be making a teleportation circle in one hour to take myself back to Rikston; anyone not wishing to walk may join me. Dismissed.”

Hogges perked up at this fortunate news. “Yes, sir—General.” With an invigorated salute, he walked out.

Minerva glowered at Everan. “There’s still the matter of the missing Consul.”

“Not at all - the Consul is dead.”

Her face melted into stunned surprise. “…What?”

“Killed by those adventurers, I believe.”

She knew it. She knew they weren’t on the up and up. If she ever—

“And they are to be commended,” finished Everan.

The glower found its way back to her face when she asked, “What?”

Everan, face placid, met her eyes. “They saved the child of one of my closest friends.”

“I… heard them mention saving the baby of someone named Marisa.”

“Quite so. It was the local Consul that put him in danger. The why of it, however, is one thing I need to find out.” He brought two fingers to his temple. “And I’d like to talk to those adventurers.”

“Because they caused the explosion?” asked Minerva, hiding her hopefulness.

Everan shook his head. “No.” Then he added, “At least, not directly.”

Minerva clenched her jaw. She found herself feeling that them being the indirect cause was reason enough for arrest and interrogation. But first: “So what did cause the explosion? I know Necropotent magic was involved.”

“Information on that is currently ‘need-to-know’. Understood?”

So she was asked to investigate something she wasn’t allowed to know anything about. Was it bureaucratic incompetence or conspiratorial control? Or both?

Everan seemed to be considering something. “I do have one task,” he said, looking back at her. “It’s not an order - you’re welcome to refuse it and return with us.”

She cautiously nodded. “I’ll hear it, at least.”

He put a hand to the desk and thoughtfully tapped a finger on it. “If you scared them as badly as I assume you did, I doubt the adventurers would believe any Sending spell we cast telling them they’re not being hunted by the military. I’d like you to find something that belonged to one of them - a bit of hair would suffice. With that, I’ll make a charm that will allow you to follow them. I’d like you, either alone or with a very small entourage, to track them down and explain that they’re not under suspicion. Once that’s done, you would ensure their safe arrival to Rikston with as little interference in their affairs as possible, and once there, you’d inform me.”

Minerva couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Why ‘as little interference as possible’?” she asked, it being the first question that came to mind.

“They’re adventurers - they need to figure out how to do things on their own.”

“And I can refuse?”

“Yes. I’m sure their path will lead to Rikston, but I prefer failsafes,” he said. She folded her arms, thinking. “You would earn my gratitude. Will you do it?”

The thought of helping those liars repulsed her, and the thought that they would get away with what they've done was nauseating, but another thought brewed in her head. They might be absolved of the crimes they've done in Woodsedge, but any other crimes she might see them commit...

For the first time in what felt like ages, Minerva smiled. “Why, General,” she beamed, “there’s nothing I’d like to do more.”