Okay. Okay, that big, well big for a goblin looks absolutely terrifying. He clearly knows what he’s doing, he can use that spear and he looks stronger and faster than I am. The fact that the dungeon or system or whatever malignant entity had decided to overwrite his decision making had decided a single enemy is enough for this challenge was almost pant-pissingly worthy. For now, he was safe, he could stand at the threshold and take his time to consider all of his options.

He considered his weapons, really what options did he have other than his longsword. He was going to have to get in close, the goblin with its spear actually had a little distance advantage on him, but if he could get close, Jarrod was willing to bet the shaft of the spear hurt a hell of a lot less than the wickedly sharp tip.

As he took a step forward, he was suddenly assaulted by a wall of noise. Sounds akin to a keening screech, as he looked around, and then up hanging from branches like bats, holding tight to the trunk of various trees and scattered amongst the lower branches were what felt like innumerable goblins. Running a whole gamut of shades from a pale green, through moss and forest green towards darker browns and loamy colours as well as a few that were grey. They all shared three things, their wickedly sharp pointed teeth, the fact they all stared at Jarrod with red, piercing beady eyes, and finally they were all pantomiming various attacks with their weapons whilst cheering, or more accurately jeering at this lone human that had dared step into their home.

Jarrod took another quick glance around and coming to a snap decision sheathed his longsword and drew the sharp black stone side-blade and dagger. Sure, he might be sacrificing a bit of length, but if he had to get in close and personal to beat a spear wielder then he might as well do it with weapons that might leave lasting bleed effects.

Decision made he strode towards the goblin, stopping around 10 feet away. All around him was a circle of grass, devoid of plants, divots, hills or anything that would make for uneven footing. The entire clearing was around 40 feet in diameter giving plenty of distance to dance as required. Standing there, watching, unmoving the Goblin Champion certainly cut an imposing figure. He stood watching Jarrod, assessing him and sneeringly snapped off at him.

“ඔයා තනියම මෙහෙට ආවද? ඔබ ජයග්රහණය කිරීමට සැලසුම් කරන්නේ කෙසේද? ඔබට අවස්ථාවක් නැත. දැන් යටත් වන්න, ඔබට මගේ වහලෙකු ලෙස ඔබේ දවස් ජීවත් විය හැකිය.”

You do not have knowledge of the language “Goblin” unlocked.

Seeing Jarrod just blinking with a lack of any comprehension, the Goblin Champion rattled his spear towards the human and said in halting but understandable Common.

“You no here belong. You die now or you slave. Die”

And with that he took a quick three steps forward and made a probing thrust of his spear towards Jarrod. If the young man had not moved and twisted away the spear would’ve struck his shoulder, and it looked to have enough force behind the blow that it would have ignored his armour totally.

Jarrod had a plan, he knew what he had to do and rather than just twisting out of the way, he took a step forward at the same time and lashed out with both blades, one high and one low hoping to make a connection. Unfortunately, the goblin was clearly not just a champion in name as he twisted his spear butt down into the ground in such a way that as it blocked the side-blade the force of Jarrod’s blow twisted the haft to block the dagger in the same move.

As the human took a step backwards to re-assess the situation, he was wholly unprepared for the haft of wood that struck him solidly on his right shoulder. His entire arm went numb for a moment as he barely grasped and kept hold of the side-blade. The goblin had instead of moving to skewer him, continued its arc downwards sweeping the spear in a large circle and slammed the haft into his shoulder.

-9HP, you have resisted losing the use of your right arm (temporary)

The goblin took what Jarrod presumed to be a few tester pokes towards him, each with enough force to cause some serious damage, but just enough each time that Jarrod could parry, or weave a dodge into his footwork. Unfortunately, he was unable to close the distance, every time he thought he had gotten in close the goblin was suddenly two steps further away than he thought it would have been.

Eventually the goblin must have decided to kick it up a notch. It now took a step back, screamed something in its guttural natural tongue and lunged forwards with the tip of the spear now glowing a deep crimson.

The horde of goblin spectators screamed at this, their cheers and jeers growing in volume until the cacophonous assault was almost enough to make Jarrod fall to his knees. His thoughts were consumed with one directive only, avoid that spear tip and hit whatever you can on the counter. Trying to time it he twisted as the goblin drew back to strike, and as he brought his blades down to try and parry the blow, he realised he had mis-timed it. Quite badly judging by the fact that the spear had pierced right through his forearm and with an agony greater than any he had felt in his life to this point it was ripped back out.

-61 HP

Staggering Jarrod turned to face his opponent again. It didn’t matter what he did now, a single blow from anything, even falling funny would render him unconscious. His opponent was far his superior, it had been toying with him. It had herded him like cattle, and then when it grew bored had struck with what appeared to be a simple skill that had nearly killed him outright. He couldn’t just charge in recklessly, but he had to do something, anything to alter the battlefield. There was nothing he could use, no divots in the ground, no undulation anywhere. Casting around he backed off as the goblin stalked forwards, keeping enough distance that he couldn’t be reached in a single thrust.

The Goblin Champion clearly grew bored of this stalemate and seeming to sense that a single blow would end it, took three quick steps forward and rather than the usual powerful thrusts, took to using much lighter thrusts which were a lot faster. Jarrod parried the first with his side blade, ducked under the 2nd and by sheer chance caught the third on the cross guard of his dagger. By then he was inside the guard of the goblin who had ended up overextended ever so slightly as he had assumed Jarrod would have been caught by at least one of the strikes.

Screeching in impotent rage Jarrod slammed his dagger home as hard as he could into the goblin, the blade sinking right through the creature’s eye socket. It let out an awful squelching noise as he tried to pull the dagger back out, and it wouldn’t shift at all. As he stepped back, he gave it one final yank, and rather than pulling cleanly out, or getting caught part way out, the dagger snapped off where the stone blade met the hide wrapped handle. Taking a few more steps back to get out of range of retaliation, Jarrod realised there would be no retaliation. The Champion who had just moments earlier looked so strong, so self-assured, so competent now had sunk to its knees, blood pouring from its wound and looked nothing more than a pitiful wretch.

Critical Hit! Weak Point Strike! You have dealt 156 damage to Goblin Champion. Goblin Champion has been disabled.

Standing he looked around, all of the goblins were staring at him, mouths agape in shock. None of them had clearly expected this outcome at all. As he watched, slowly some semblance of life came back as they started softly hooting and chittering to one another. As they did a system notification flashed up over his view.

Well done on completing the trial of Elouan. The life of his most recent champion lies in your hands. Do you wish to spare his life or end his life? All choices have consequences.

He had no idea, literally none on what to do here. He had never been in a serious fight before and now in 24 hours had killed 5 creatures and was looking at the option to kill a sixth. These creatures were all Awakened, they had their own thoughts, families, stories. They were not common monsters, nor where they Chaos-spawn or corrupted by Chaos. The others had all died in combat, in fact they had all ambushed him. He wanted to kill the Champion, he wanted there to be no threat left behind him, but he found himself unable to. He was unwilling to descend to a level of just killing everything that crossed his path. How would someone like that ever possibly function in civilised society. Especially when this dungeon was clearly the same only in name to the one that everyone else in the village had been through.

Looking around the goblins were clearly split but trying to influence his choice, some jumping up and down, hooting and drawing blades across their throats in a wicked pantomime. Others looked to be praying to Jarrod, as if he was a member of the goblin pantheon, asking him to spare their champion.

Choice made, he spoke out loud to the sky, hoping the system would be able to interpret

“I wish to spare my enemy”

Your choice has been noted. Elouan must always have a champion in this arena. The one you fought will fight again. You may proceed to the next challenge.

Bowing slightly towards the Goblin Champion who stared unseeing at the ground cradled his ruined face, Jarrod walked forwards without acknowledgement of the goblins in the tree’s ready to face the next challenge, but more ready for a rest in between the two.

As he reached the next clearing, he stopped for a moment to review his notifications to see if he had earned anything else, and whilst there was a notification of experience for the battle having been won, of his choice affecting the end loot of the dungeon, but no new level and no new achievement had been granted.

As he reached the edge of the next clearing, he saw nothing. Ahead of him was pitch black, it was a heavy black. One that felt as though it muffled and blanketed sound. Kneeling he felt solid ground beneath him still but could not see anything at all. Waving his hand in front of his face, he felt the movement of the air, but he couldn’t see the movement in the slightest. Turning to look back the way he thought he had just traversed, he saw nothing. The same inky blackness pervaded everything it would seem.