They soon came across heavy prints again. Where the path softened into loam, the soil had been pressed into deep, wide hollows: oversized footprints that bore the unmistakable weight of something not human. Perberos crouched, tracing the edge of one with a fingertip, then frowned at the mud pressed between the toes. “Definitely another orc,” he said, voice flat as stone. “And it’s got backup.” He pointed to smaller prints surrounding the larger ones, goblins, scurrying along in chaotic patterns.

  Josh’s gaze drifted up the ridge, where the trees thickened and shadows pooled like ink. The plan they’d agreed on the night before unfolded in his mind: Brett and Perberos would thin the enemy from range, create confusion; Josh would hold any choke point they found, taking the brunt of a charge; Bhel would strike from behind at the seam; and Carcan would hang back, ready to heal or shield, but now, she’d also orchestrate the battle, ensuring nothing slipped past their notice.

  The party moved forward along the trail carved by their prey. Silent. Careful. Eyes scanning trunks, roots, and fallen branches for the crude signs that marked this forest as goblin territory.

  Everywhere, the signs of infestation were evident. Tiny totems of bone and cloth were driven into the soil at irregular intervals. Scraps of hide, feathers bound with twine, and tiny skulls wired to twigs littered the ground. The goblins were shaping the forest in their image, claiming it as their own. On a fallen log, they found a squat pile of white stones, painted with the same black spiral and red slashes they’d seen before. Brett’s light swept over the symbols, his lips tightening, resisting the urge to say something that would reference their past and likely result in more questions.

  The path narrowed as they pressed deeper into the forest. Trees leaned in, trunks ringed with moss, low branches snagging cloaks. Roots twisted around boots, and a thin mist curled through the air, carrying the faint tang of iron and smoke. Perberos lifted a finger to his lips, signaling a halt. He nocked an arrow and climbed to a low fork in the trees, eyes sharp, scanning the folding ground ahead for the first hint of movement.

  Down in a shallow dip, the underbrush shivered and parted. A pack of goblins emerged, five or six of them, skittering between rough shelters and a half-burned hearth, some form of meat burning over the flames. Smaller than the patrols they had encountered before, this group radiated something more sinister. Their bodies were taut and wiry, coiled like springs, blades at the ready, hunched and alert.

  And then Perberos’ gaze froze. Among them moved a hulking mass of green muscle, each step a slow, deliberate battering ram. The orc.

  It towered over the goblins, leather and rusted plates draped across its chest like barbarous trophies. A brutal club as long as Bhel’s arm dangled from one massive fist. Its skin was a patchwork of old scars and fresh blood; a crude notch had been carved into its brow and painted red, a ritual mark of dominance. There was no cleverness in its eyes. Only hunger. Only blunt, unthinking force.

  It lumbered forward, spittle flecking its maw. A goblin scrambled alongside, stabbing a spear into the ground, swearing at it in their foul language, as if it was a pack animal or a weapon instead of a terrifying monster. The forest seemed to shrink around them, every leaf and shadow accentuating the orc’s sheer presence, and Perberos felt the hair along his neck rise.

  Perberos crouched down, eyes sweeping the forest floor. He traced the goblins’ movements and the lumbering orc with practiced precision, mentally mapping the terrain. There was a spot to his right where the underbrush was thick, but a narrow opening revealed itself between several trees that grew tightly together, forming a natural corridor. It would force any attacker to funnel through, perfect for a hold. He pictured Josh standing there, shield raised, forcing the orc and goblins to meet the point head-on. Perfect.

  Nearby, fallen boulders and the trunks of large, twisted trees created ideal cover for ranged attacks. Brett could take the high ground on one of the low ridges, and he himself could perch on a small cluster of boulders to cover angles that might otherwise be blind spots. From these positions, they could harry the enemy, thin numbers, and keep pressure without exposing themselves to the orc’s brute strength.

  Satisfied with his assessment, Perberos dropped from his vantage point and silently retraced his steps back to the party. The forest seemed to close around him, shadows shifting as the mist threaded through the trees. He crouched beside Josh, whispering just above the rustle of leaves.

  “There’s an orc,” he said flatly, voice low. “And goblins, five or six of them, skirting around a small cluster of shelters and a half-burned fire. I think they’re having lunch.” His eyes flicked toward the narrow choke point he had spotted. “There’s a natural choke point over there, between some tightly packed trees. It’ll be ideal for us. I don’t think more than two goblins would be able to get to you Josh, and I even think it might hinder the orc a bit. Brett, there's also raised positions where we’ll be able to support Josh and Bhel without risking catching them. I don’t think I could have planned a better spot really.”

  Perberos’ mind thought back to the enemy he’d found, lingering on the orc’s hulking form moving with brutal purpose. “This orc's not clever, just strong and dangerous. Keep your heads, watch your spacing, and don’t let it break the line.” He finally straightened, motioning for the party to follow him toward the positions he had picked out, every step deliberate, muscles coiled for the fight to come.

  The party moved quietly along the narrow path, following Perberos’ lead. Josh took the point, positioning himself between the tightly packed trees that formed the choke point. Shield raised, feet braced against roots and uneven earth, he scanned the forest ahead, ready to absorb the first clash. Bhel fell in behind him, axes at the ready, muscles coiled like springs.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Carcan hung back just enough to see the entire formation, staff poised to weave healing or protective spells as needed. Brett and Perberos climbed to their chosen vantage points, both finding cover behind outcrops of boulders and thick trunks. From here, they could see the goblins skittering around their camp, tearing at the meat on the fire.

  Perberos drew an arrow, nocked it with a practiced hand, “Everyone ready?” he asked, waiting a moment, before hearing positives from everyone and letting the arrow fly. It sailed through the mist and landed squarely in the chest of the nearest goblin. The creature let out a shrill cry before collapsing onto the forest floor, blood darkening the undergrowth.

  Brett followed immediately, muttering a few rapid words and thrusting his staff forward. A spark of magic streaked through the air and struck another goblin. Its ragged clothing caught fire instantly, the small flames licking across its back as the creature screamed and spun in panic.

  The other goblins hesitated for only a heartbeat before snapping into action, shrieking as they charged toward the party. The orc lumbered after them, taking a moment to understand the situation. Its gaze swept the choke point and the raised positions, and it seemed to pause, assessing whether it could simply smash through the goblins and into Josh.

  Josh tightened his grip on his shield, bracing as the first goblins leapt into the narrow corridor. Bhel growled and readied his axes, eyes flicking between the skittering goblins and the slow, lumbering movements of the orc behind them. Carcan’s hands glowed faintly, prepared to protect, while Brett’s fire shot out, striking into another goblin, flinging it backwards with a bang, leaving sparks in the air. He noted that neither of the goblins he’s targeted during this fight had died outright.

  Perberos fired again. His arrow whistled through the mist but thudded harmlessly into a tree trunk. He cursed under his breath, already nocking another. Brett launched another firebolt, but this one went wide, bursting against the dirt and showering sparks across the undergrowth.

  The first goblins surged into the narrow corridor, shrieking and swinging crude blades. Josh planted his feet, shield forward, meeting the first charge with a clang of steel. The creatures twisted and darted, trying to get around him, but the tight space gave him control. Axes, sword and shield met teeth and claws, the sounds of metal and screeching filling the forest.

  The goblins pressed harder, emboldened by their numbers. Josh slammed his shield into one, feeling bones crack under the force. He stepped forward and hacked downward, cutting another clean through the neck. The air filled with the sound of metal, snarls, and the wet crunch of impact.

  Bhel moved with coiled precision, sidestepping one goblin and bringing both axes down in a savage arc. He caught another across the shoulder, spinning the corpse aside before the next attacker could strike. The rhythm was brutal, efficient, and deadly but there were more coming, and the goblins were faster than he anticipated.

  From above, Perberos released arrow after arrow. One found a goblin square in the chest, and it toppled as Brett’s firebolt streaked through the air, hitting his original target, its ragged clothing erupting in flame. Smoke curled up, and the smell of burning cloth mingled with the iron-tang of blood and burnt flesh in the forest, as this beast finally dropped.

  Josh met the rush head-on, shield slamming into snarling faces, steel flashing as he forced the goblins into the narrow choke. Their blades scraped and shrieked against his shield rim, every impact jarring up his arm. He pivoted, shoulder driving forward to shove one aside, sword hacking through another’s guard but the tide didn’t stop.

  A sudden movement in his peripheral, a goblin lunging low, spear thrusting under his shield. Josh twisted, too slow. The point slipped through, whistling past his thigh, straight toward Bhel.

  The dwarf was mid-step, axes raised, nowhere to go. His eyes widened as the tip bore down on him.

  “Bhel!” Carcan’s voice cracked across the din. She slammed her staff into the earth, a flare of green light exploding from its tip. Runes raced up the shaft as the spell surged outward, wrapping Bhel’s midriff in a translucent shell of light. The spear hit hard, stopping just short of flesh. The air sizzled, the barrier sparking and hissing as the force bled away.

  The goblin staggered back, screeching, the spear smoking at the tip. The shield flickered once more before shattering like glass, fragments of green light drifting away into the mist.

  Josh didn’t hesitate. He barrelled forward, shoulder crashing into the goblin, shield grinding against bone. His sword came up underhand, burying itself in the creature’s throat with a wet crunch. The goblin gurgled and clawed at him, black blood spraying across Josh’s bracer before it went limp.

  Bhel stumbled back, breathing hard, hand pressed to the spot where the spear had nearly found him. His fingers trembled. “Whew, thanks, that could have hurt.” He muttered, voice hoarse.

  Carcan lowered her staff, the last of the glow dying along its length. Sweat streaked her temple, the fear of losing a party member felt far too real at that moment. “Lets not do that again.”

  Josh gave a grim nod, wiping blood from his face. “No promises.”

  The forest was chaos now. Arrows hissed past. Fire streaked through the mist. The smell of burning meat and blood filled the air. Perberos landed another arrow cleanly this time, dropping a goblin mid-charge. Brett focused his magic again, forcing calm through his nerves. His next bolt of flame hit its mark, engulfing a goblin’s face in fire. The creature screamed and crumpled.

  “There’s definitely more than half a dozen goblins!” Carcan shouted over the chaos.

  The remaining goblins froze, uncertain, their courage draining away. But behind them, the orc stepped forward, each thunderous footfall pressing deep into the soil. Its club dragged through the dirt, gouging a trail as it advanced.

  The sound alone was enough to make Josh’s grip tighten.

  The orc’s low growl rolled through the mist, deep and guttural. It raised its club, swinging it in slow, deliberate arcs that whistled through the air. The very trees seemed to flinch.

  Josh squared his stance and lifted his shield higher. The party braced, hearts hammering.

  The goblins parted as the orc stomped into view, its yellow eyes burning with savage intent.

  And then, it roared.

  The forest itself seemed to tremble in answer.

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