“You should really think about getting greaves.” Bordan said. He was kneeling next to Edwin, wrapping his stab wound with a bandage.

“I am thinking about it.” Edwin answered drily. “And a new shield. And a spear. It’s starting to be a proper list; I just haven’t run across an armorsmith since we left the city.”

The battle had been short and violent. While Edwin had held back half of the monsters, the other half had gone straight for Bordan. He’d been able to use the high ground more effectively than Edwin but got into a bit of trouble when the goblins swarmed him with no regard for their own life. They had fought without fear, at least until Salissa’s flames had turned two of the creatures into walking torches. The display of magical violence shocked the beasts, allowing Bordan and Leodin to quickly dispatch the remaining ones.

Edwin’s wound had been the only one the party received, and after it was taken care of, they descended into the goblins’ camp. It didn’t really deserve the name, as it was really just the cooking fire and a collection of random items that was strewn around the clearing. Pelts and bones from past meals and poorly sharpened sticks lay among the stolen possessions of the unlucky townspeople that had fallen prey to the monsters’ ambushes. Edwin was certain that some of the bones he saw around the camp had also once belonged to those poor souls, but he chose not to think too much about their fate.

“You think we got them all?” Leodin asked, carefully spreading out a small pile of garbage with his boot.

“Hard to say.” Bordan answered thoughtfully. “They said five to ten and we already got more, but that doesn’t mean much. It’s not like they had tents or bedrolls we could count.”

“So, what do we do?” Edwin said. “Isn’t the normal procedure to find out if we killed them all to search for the hideout? I’m pretty sure this is it.”

“It is.” Bordan ran a hand through his hair. “I guess we could wait here, see if more of them show up. If no more come by nightfall, we head back to town.”

They all agreed that it was a reasonable idea. Bordan assigned each one a direction to watch and they dispersed. None of them minded not being in the camp any longer than necessary.

I wonder if there are people interested in goblin parts. Edwin thought to himself. Knowing alchemists, there probably are. If they really want them, they can feel free to come out here and get them themselves though.

Edwin had felt bad for the direbeasts they’d killed, as he considered them little more than animals, beholden to their nature. Monster like goblins however were the exact reason why so many people became adventurers. Goblins were small, true, but their strength belied their size, they were cruel and vicious, and they loved nothing more than killing humans. As far as Edwin was concerned, there were no good goblins, as they were revolting even in death.

--- ----- ---

“We got pretty lucky again.” Edwin said on the way home. No more goblins had shown themselves, and by the time the sun was hanging low above the horizon, the party had left for the town. “We had the element of surprise and the high ground. It could only have been easier if they’d been asleep.”

“It was very much in our favor.” Bordan agreed. “But this time I wouldn’t call it all luck. We were vigilant and spotted them early, then tracked them and waited until we could ensure that favorable engagement. We did well, and if we keep doing it like we did today we might be just fine. But don’t get cocky.” He said sternly. “They made it easy for us, even for goblins. They don’t have the senses of direwolves, but they could’ve smelled or heard us if they hadn’t been preoccupied with their catch and their meal.”

“They were also pretty much unarmed.” Edwin remarked, thinking back to the weapons they’d been wielding. “Mennick said that goblins can have wildly different equipment, sometimes even armor or bows. These ones had nothing except what they’d made themselves or taken from their victims.”

The mention of the dead townspeople halted the conversation, each adventurer thinking back to the remains they’d seen. There had been a human skull in the fire when they extinguished it. A small one.

“At least we can go back and tell them that the goblins are gone now.” Bordan said, his cheer sounding somewhat forced. “We can’t bring back the dead, but no one else will fall prey to these monsters. That’s an honest day’s work right there.”

“Very true.” Edwin agreed, and he meant it. Even if much of Walter’s earlier research had benefitted others, he’d done it solely to satisfy his own curiosity. Helping other people in this direct a manner felt quite rewarding.

They reached the town just after dark, a guard opening the southern gate to let them pass.

“Did ye find ‘em?” He asked as he barred the gate behind them. The arrival of the adventurers had probably spread through the town like wildfire.

“We did indeed.” Bordan said with a smile. “And they didn’t enjoy it, I promise you that.”

“Good.” The guard said with a grim smile. “Wish I could’ve been there.”

Although hot food and soft beds called to them, the party headed to the village hall first. The headman was still there, probably awaiting their return, and was greatly relieved when they reported their success. He insisted on buying them a round and dragged them along to the tavern. The portly man herded them inside, then announced their victory to the patrons, which was answered by a roar of approval. The attention quickly became uncomfortable to Edwin, but the free ales that accumulated on their table were well received. They stayed up later than intended, enjoying the celebratory mood of the townsfolk.

--- ----- ---

Edwin failed to suppress a snicker, and Leodin shot him a withering look from half-lidded eyes. While Bordan and Salissa had partaken in the free drinks with caution, Leodin and Edwin had taken it upon themselves to clean up the well-intended gifts. Of course, Edwin was virtually immune to alcohol, not even developing the slightest buzz from the weak brew. Leodin, however, was not, which meant that he’d found himself a little worse for wear in the morning. The adventurers had just wolfed down a quick breakfast and were heading to the gate, a long day of marching ahead of them.

“It’s your own fault.” Bordan said sternly. “If you don’t know your limits, stay away from drink. At least while you’re on campaign, or doing requests, and don’t know when you’ll need to fight next.”

“I know.” Leodin grumbled. “Just don’t be so loud.”

Edwin was about to tease the boy further when a nasal voice interrupted him.

“Look at them. Kill a few goblins and let themselves be celebrated like they’ve slain a dragon. Ridiculous.”

The speaker was a young man with a sturdy build and a flat nose. He was accompanied by half a dozen others, probably farmhands or workers of some sort, who were gathered by the gate with an empty cart. Bordan shot his companions a warning look, but while Salissa immediately went rigid, Edwin just couldn’t manage to take the speaker seriously. I many ways, Walter’s view of things still dominated Edwin’s perception of the world. To a master mage, the infantile opinions of some village toughs were as inconsequential as those of the cattle grazing on the fields outside of town. Bordan led the party past the gathered group towards the open gate.

“What, got nothing to say, adventurer?” The speaker spat the last word like an insult as he stepped in front of them, barring their way.

“We’ve got a long way to go today, so if you don’t mind, we’ll be on our way.” The former soldier replied evenly.

“Why, now that you mention it, I do mind.” The rest of his group joined the speaker in the road, some seeming less certain than others, but soon there was no easy way to get past.

Bordan sighed. “Alright then, I guess we’ve got a few minutes. What seems to be the problem?”

“My problem? You’re my problem! Waltzing into town like you’re some kind of saviors, drinking for free, then leaving immediately? Did you even find the goblins, or did you just pretend?”

Bordan’s eyes narrowed. “You’d do well not to question the honor of the Adventurers’ Guild. May I remind you that you requested our help, not the other way around?”

“Had we known it would take you weeks to get here, we would’ve done it ourselves!” The man growled angrily. “What, we’re not important enough for you to hurry? Jorge and Helmut and little Ferl weren’t important enough for you to get off your arses and leave your cushy city?”

“I’m very sorry for your losses.” Bordan said in a controlled voice. “We came as quickly as we could.”

“Yeah right.” The speaker spat and pushed Bordan. Edwin saw his companion’s back tensing and sighed inwardly. It wasn’t easy to get the good-natured Bordan riled up, but this idiot was doing a good job of it.

“Try that again and you’ll regret it.” The former soldier told the speaker, his voice quiet. There was no way in hell the thug would suddenly grow a brain and realize he was making a really stupid mistake, and Edwin considered his options. The gathered group didn’t seem as invested in this little feud as their leader was, they probably mostly backed him out of solidarity. If this turned into a brawl, Edwin assumed that they would join in and it would be a whole event. The guards would come, they might need to go before the headman to explain the whole thing, and really, who had time for all that? Edwin didn’t know a whole lot about fistfights, but Walter had known one thing about fighting that was universal: The value of shock and awe.

As expected, the speaker tried to push Bordan again. The combat veteran was having none of it and slapped his hand away before it reached him. This angered the rowdy, and he took a swing. The former soldier leaned back, easily dodging the clumsy blow and prepared to answer in kind, when a large form shot past him. Edwin didn’t know anything about fistfights, but then he didn’t need to. He rammed into the speaker and pushed him off balance, grabbed him by an arm and a leg, took a step past him to gain leverage, twisted and pulled. The ruffian took to the skies a flailing jumble of limbs, sailed over his companions and through the gate, crashing onto the dirt road and rolling to a halt. When his friends, who had followed his unexpected flight with open mouths, turned back to the adventurers, Edwin loomed above them. As Edwin had realized early on, being a two-meter-tall mountain of muscle really lent itself to looming. When the last of them were looking up at him with a suitable amount of fearful respect, Edwin growled.

“Move or be moved.”

And they moved, stopping only to collect their recently airborne leader. The adventurers left the city unmolested, being waved on by the gate guard that had mysteriously reappeared after being conspicuously absent during the confrontation.