DAY 20

The trio of men had stopped for the night at a waystation. It was just a barn and a small bunkhouse. Thankfully they were the only ones here, though from the smell a great many people passed through here. I waited until they fell asleep and then crept in. I wanted that notebook. Keeping my distance from the horses, I very slowly approached the door. It was locked, but with my sharp nightvision I could see this was a very basic latch, anyone with a blade or thin bar could just pop it open. My knife worked just fine and I cautiously crept inside. The men seemed to have left most of their belongings piled on the floor beside the beds. With how slowly I was moving it probably took several minutes to cross the room to the beds. The book was visible in his jacket pocket. I slid it free and then retreated.

They seemed to be some sort of law enforcement. All three had matching emblems that might be a stylized W on their sashes. Several extra hung on the wall so I took one. On my way back out a gust of wind caught the door and the latch loudly snapped shut. The men stirred, and I scrambled away from the building.

Once I was a safe distance away I started reading.

People had been going missing. Strange tracks in the forests of some inhuman monster. Jordan had been acting suspiciously. Neighbors on all sides had been attacked in recent nights. A rumour had been going around that his son had finally returned home but had been hiding from visitors. When a posse of men had gone to search his property Jordan had attacked them without provocation. The dogs had gone into a frenzy smelling something, and it was decided to bring Jordan back to the jail for questioning.

I fought the urge to swear. It must be that monster from the forest, and when Jordan had hidden me suspicion had gone onto him. This was my fault. He had helped me and now he was paying for it.

The town wasn't too far away, and I needed a plan. I had a bad feeling about what would happen to Jordan. He was clearly still upset about his wife and son leaving him, and I didn't want these idiots to interpret that as meaning he was involved with some monster attacking his neighbors. That was all without the matter of what would happen to him if the others found out he had been letting a goblin stay on his land. I hurried down the road. I needed a disguise. Something to cover my head at least. Hopefully this was a town where people left their laundry hanging outside to dry.

After getting back to the road I continued past the town a ways. Fields of wheat stretched into the distance, flimsy wooden fences separating them from the road.

A cat poked its head out of the bushes as I leaned against the fence. It didn't much seem to like me and kept a wary distance, but it didn't threaten to smite me so I guess that was a plus on the diplomacy side of things. Maybe I could win over the feline demographic and they could put in a good word for Jordan and I.

I leaned against the fence and watched the clouds drift, hearing only the sound of the wind that abruptly stopped. Curious, I glanced back at the cat. It had stopped, frozen mid stride. Over a few seconds the entire world became still and quiet. The clouds stopped, and in the distance the world was becoming vague and indistinct. With rising alarm I looked around frantically. Was I about to be smited, had some god finally noticed me? Within moments I couldn't see anything past my own hands, and then nothing at all.

Then, agony hit me. I stumbled and fell as lines of fire raced through my brain. Bursts of colour filled my vision, a horrible shriek echoing across the field and only stopping when I ran out of breath. Uncontrollable spasms shook me, my claws scratching deep tracks across my shirt and chest underneath as I tried to curl up and hide from the pain. Bursts of light flickered even though my eyes were closed.

The darkness happened so quickly and completely I only noticed it when it had passed. The wind started first, just a gentle breeze. Then the faint sounds of animals, and the cat bounding away. The world started back up, with nothing else showing any sign it had ever stopped, as I lay beside the fence and sobbed.

A few minutes later, after I calmed down, I slowly stood back up. My shirt and chest were both fine again, untouched, without any new wounds or scars, though I could remember the feeling of tearing my own skin. I looked up into the sky.

"Is anyone there?" Had that been a system administrator? Had I been disconnected? Had that been a server reset? Nothing answered me.

The headache popped back, though I wasn't sure if it hurt less now or just less in comparison to whatever had just happened. It felt...reassuring, like a pat on the back and a voice telling me that I'd be okay. I had to grab the fence to stay standing. The memory rushed out of me. I could feel my scraped knee again, the bicycle handlebars jammed into my chest, hear the roaring honk of the car horn as it swerved around me, feel my dad run over and pick me back up, hear his voice, the rumble of his chest against my ear.

Then it was gone. I looked around in confusion, something had happened. After the darkness had passed I had stood back up, and then I couldn't remember what that had been. I knew something had, but it was gone now. A blue afterimage had burned into my vision, like I had been staring at a clear sky, not an overcast night.

Rubbing my face and shaking my head I hefted my pack back up and turned back towards the town. Whatever I had forgotten must not be very important. Now wasn't the time to lose focus, I needed to help Jordan.

What would happen if I just walked into the town square and started soapboxing? Would I even be able to walk into the town? Or would the guards run me off?

On the right, to the north, the trees cleared out into farmland fenced off with wooden posts and a single string of rope. The south side of the road remained forested, so I stayed more towards that side. If anyone approached I would have to dive into the bushes. Thankfully night travellers were rare, and I didn't see a single person.

A wooden wall just tall enough for a person to not be able to reach the top surrounded the town. A few chimneys and rooftops poked up beyond it. I moved into the tree line and searched for a spot from which I could get a good view of the gate. It was open, and through it I could see a few quaint townhouses. A single extremely bored looking guard was slumped over in a chair underneath a small wooden overhang, halberd leaning against the wall behind him. After watching for a few minutes, it was clear he was either asleep or not bothered in the least by what might lurk in the shadows. He wore a small horn around his neck, but was otherwise wearing a long quilted jacket, a wool hat, and a blanket covering his legs. A pair of lanterns hung on each side of the gate, and another was on the ground beside him. They didn't illuminate much.

The smell wafting off the town was potent. Clearly these people hadn't discovered indoor plumbing. I had been hoping Jordan's outhouse was a result of rural living. I couldn't identify the scent of any goblins here, but there were plenty of ones completely unfamiliar to me.

After watching for a few minutes more, I couldn't come up with a better idea, so I just walked up to the gate. I wasn't going out of my way to be loud, but I wasn't sneaking either. The guard didn't react at all, snoring quietly, so I just walked past him. The door was open. It would be a weird trap.

The town had a few dozen buildings, and I estimated maybe a few hundred people lived here. The stables were near the gate, and a few of the horses blinked at me but otherwise didn't react. Jordan's scent here was quite difficult to pick out, but the town wasn't large enough to have too many turns. In short order I had tracked him to the largest building in the center of the town. It was one of the only two story houses, looking like a country estate. Another guard was outside there, actually awake and slowly patrolling, though there wasn't any spring in his step.

Nobody else seemed to be out at this hour. The houses all had shutters closed against the mild chill. Wood smoke clung to the air giving the whole place a light haze. I wandered a bit, trying to circle the estate opposite the guard. Most of the town had cobbled streets, but many of the small alleys between buildings were dirt. Sure enough, many clotheslines hung in these alleys, and I stole a hooded tunic to put on under my pack and quiver. Dawn was approaching, and gradual murmurs of noise started coming out of a few buildings. I continued on away from the house I had just stole from, and picked a shadowed alcove between two buildings and settled onto my haunches to wait. Not too long later people started emerging as the sun rose. A man with a cart passed by, leaving a bottle outside most doors and collecting the occasional empties. The smells of cooking wafted to me, mostly bread and vegetable stew. Another man with a cart went through the town, collecting reeking buckets of filth that people were leaving outside their doors.

It didn't take too long to get a feel for the town. Many people hurried around with hoods and cloaks. Most, but not all, of the ones with bows or spears also wore the marked sash like what I had stolen from the waystation. With more light I could also see a large version of the same on a flagpole atop the estate.

The people all seemed friendly to each other. I watched as several came and went from the estate and the guard often did not even wave or acknowledge them. Everything seemed quite casual.

I did however notice something interesting. I could understand the conversations I overheard. Somehow, I was understanding what they called the new language.

One of the people who had already come and gone from the estate several times now spotted me and started heading towards me. I stayed sitting, since he didn't seem any more agitated than he had been on the rest of his trips. He was quite young, mid teens from my guess.

"Good day. I am Denan, squire to the house. Did you just arrive?”

“Hello, I'm Karl. Nice to meet you. I'm here about the...trouble in the forest.” I didn't lift my head. Didn't want the hood to show too much of my face.

“Good. Please come with me. I shall inform the House of your arrival."

“Okay.” I stood, realizing that we were the same height.

“I expected you would be...later.” He said with only the barest hint of a pause, squinting slightly in the sun that was now above the horizon as he started to walk.

“I got an early start. First though, to be clear, I don't want to cause any trouble if you're expecting someone else.” I raised my head a bit, ready to run if he yelled.

“What do you mean?” He turned back to me, and then stopped. He paused, a brief moment of panic and confusion flashing across his face.

“Ah, remain peaceful and there should not be any problems. You're not the Arbiter it seems, but the house rules do not forbid...visitors. You said you know what happened in the forest?”

“I know some of what happened, and I hope it's enough to prevent more trouble.”

We walked to a side door, where the boy knocked, and then spoke to the guard who opened it.

“Take him to the study, please. I must wait for the Arbiter.”

I kept my head low as the guard grunted and waved for me to follow. The interior was a nice wooden floor and plaster walls. A confusing mix of smells saturated the air. Countless people came through here regularly, more foods than I could identify, and almost lost in the chaos was the scent of Jordan tinged with fear and anger.

Shortly I was deposited in a spare room with no windows. A large table dominated the center, though there were far fewer chairs than I thought would be appropriate for the size. The door shut behind me, the latch sliding loudly into place. I really hoped I hadn't just walked into my own execution. Folding back my hood I took off my pack and picked a chair in the middle of the table. The tabletop was well polished, but scratched and gouged from years of regular use. I leaned close and sniffed. A strange, almost spicy and mildly sweaty with anxiety, scent was soaked into it. It didn't smell human, and I had no idea what it might be. It was pervasive enough that the person must have been sitting at the table daily for a long time, until quite recently.

After several minutes the door opened and a middle aged man in travel-stained clothes entered. He froze when he saw me, and Denan bumped into his back.

"A goblin!"

"Hi." I tried not to smile, it would probably look aggressive.

"Why take it prisoner?" He twitched, trying to face the boy without letting me out of his sight.

"Ah, Arbiter Dolan. This is our guest, Karl. He has information for the trial."

"A witness? No goblin has ever stood at trial."

"I'm hoping we can settle this without a trial. If you mean Jordan."

"I am here. There will be a trial." The man sighed and rubbed a hand over his face in exhaustion. Swinging a satchel up onto the table he sat in the chair farthest from me and brought out a writing kit. "Very well, goblin, explain yourself."

"If you would excuse me, I will inform the House of your arrival and bring a meal." Denan gestured to his chest and backed out the door. It was left unlocked this time.

It took much less time than I anticipated to give the abridged version of my time so far. I left out a lot, such as sneaking into the waystation, but tried to avoid overtly lying. Hopefully the differences of goblin facial expressions would cover up my omissions. I had been alone in the forest, Jordan had let me stay when some unknown beast appeared in the forest. It had been me hiding in his forge, not some returned son who was transforming and attacking the neighbor. It was partially a guess, but I suggested that it had avoided his property because it could smell me. Presumably none of the other farms had a goblin living on them.

Dolan put his pen down and sighed.

"I must apologize. You are far more civil than I imagined. You are not even a full month old, you say?"

"Three weeks, I think. It has been quite strange."

"Amazing. I have….met goblins in the past, but only a few of the eldest were more than savages."

"It didn't take long for me to notice I was different. That is why I came to human lands. I don't want to see Jordan punished for helping me."

"I had thought this might be a simple werewolf trial." He trailed off when the door opened. Denan entered and then stepped to the side. A rather large muscular and deeply tanned man entered, looking quite lordly in his long tunic with elaborate embroidery. Both his arms had multiple scratches. A long knife was belted to his hips, looking well worn. Clearly he wasn't an idle nobleman.

"Lord Wolsey, I present Arbiter Dolan, and Karl, a witness for the trial."

Following Dolan's cue, I stood. The man was probably three times my height and five times my weight. Wolsey's gaze flickered across the room and ended up on me.

"We will talk later." He dismissed me with and sat at the head of the table. Denan gestured at me to follow him out of the room. I fumbled the strap for my pack, which had ended up under the leg of my chair, nearly tripping myself and knocking the arrows out of my quiver onto the floor.

"Sorry." I grabbed the fistfull of arrows and started to put them back.

"Wait. Those are not goblin arrows. The smith made those for you?" Wolsey was tense, a minor tic in his jaw.

"No, yes. I made them."

He slowly exhaled and turned back to Dolan. I scrambled out of the room, and found myself between two guards. They both wore thick leather armour, multiple knives, and bland expressions.

"Come. To the yard." The boy lead me past a servant carrying a platter of food. I couldn't stop myself from staring at it, the man looked mildly traumatized when he saw me. We went down another hallway and to the opposite side of the house. An open door lead to a courtyard in the center of the house. A well was in the center, along with several apple trees, and many berry bushes. At second look, the entire yard seemed to be a garden divided into quadrants by cobblestone paths.

Our path lead to the east wing, the kitchen. Several wooden tables and benches lined the walls.

"Please, wait here." Denan gestured to the bench, and then disappeared into the kitchen. A moment later he returned with a bowl of stew and a small loaf of bread, handing them to me he continued "I will return when Lord Wolsey calls for you."

Before I could say anything he had gone back through the doorway. In the far corner of the yard several elderly women had dropped their sewing and were gawking at me. Feeling very self conscious I slowly sat and turned away from them.

Overall it had gone better than I expected, though there was still time for Wolsey to throw me in the dungeon. I got the feeling the man had fought in that last goblin war, or perhaps more recently. Maybe coming here in person had just soured Jordan's chances of getting out alive. Dolan had mentioned expecting a werewolf trial. What would they even do in that case? Burn him at the stake? Saw him in half in the town square? They seemed pretty civilized, but this was the kind of place they'd have happily killed me on sight on the other side of the river.

I couldn't smell any trace of Jordan in the courtyard, he clearly hadn't been given as much leniency as I and had been dragged straight to the dungeon.

A few minutes later Denan returned for me.

"Lord Wolsey has heard your testimony from Arbiter Dolan and does not require you further. The trial will be held tomorrow in the town square at noon."

"Can I talk to Jordan before then?"

"That is not possible." A guard had followed the boy into the yard and was eyeing me. "This way."

My escort didn't quite shove me down the hallway and out the door, but only barely. Wolsey's mood had been contagious. The door slammed shut behind me, leaving me back outside once more.