With agile reflexes, we instinctively dropped to the ground, flattening ourselves against the dirt. Footsteps thudded closer, and I held my breath, wondering if they were headed our way. The sound grew louder, then faded as the Goblins shuffled past, while others disappeared into the distance. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as we lay motionless, the only sounds the pounding of our hearts and the rustling of leaves in the wind. They didn’t appear to be in a hurry, so I stayed still, waiting to see what would happen next.

  Eventually, the Goblins coming toward us collected their baskets and turned to follow the others. After what felt like five minutes of eternity watching the last black-robed figures vanish from sight, the farmstead lay empty. Its field was full of crops, but the clearing now was eerily still and desolate.

  When the last black-robed figure dispersed, my attention fell upon the lady who was still immobilized in the stockades. Despite the harsh sun beating on her, she seemed frozen in place, her face a mask of stoicism despite the indignity of her predicament. Driven by curiosity and the desire to help, I made my way toward her. But before I could get any closer, Saresh stepped in, gripping my arm firmly. His stern expression and flickering eyes warned me he disagreed with my actions.

  “What are you doing?” He asked, looking concerned.

  “We need more information. She might be able to help,” I replied.

  “I understand you are the helping type, and you gave me your last health potion, but she is a Goblin. A Goblin,” he said again for emphasis.

  I scrambled for a way to sway Saresh, and the answer came to me instantly. “Yeah, a Goblin who might know the way out. A Goblin who, if we rescue, might rescue us as well.”

  Saresh’s face looked pained, but he let go of my hand. As I slowly snuck up, she didn’t hear me, but I received a prompt.

  You have gained level 2 in Sneak.

  Even though this was a crappy situation, prompts like that always make me smile.

  Bound within the unforgiving confines of the stocks, the woman’s face and hands were ensnared within the torturous wooden embrace, her body was forced into a rigid position, her neck and limbs strained to their limits in a desperate effort to keep her upright. Each moment was a struggle against gravity and the merciless sun, beating down upon her with endless torment.

  I watched as she shifted weight, a desperate attempt to find some semblance of comfort amidst her painful captivity. As I approached, she lifted her head, sensing my presence even though she could not see me. My footsteps must have been too loud, or perhaps my Sneak skill was not that high, for she turned to face me with a look of resignation etched on her face.

  When she recognized who it was, her strength returned, and she panicked. She pulled at her restraints and tried to free herself. “Help!” she tried to yell, but it was a weak breath, as if she hadn’t drunk water in days. It was high-pitched and barely a scream.

  The screaming, more than anything, unsettled Saresh. “Kill her. When they hear her, we won’t be able to escape.”

  I put my hand in my pouch and pulled out my sword and my water flask. I then approached her and said clearly with authority, “Stop screaming now.”

  The Goblin, conditioned to follow orders of those threatening her, went limp and stopped screaming.

  “Good. Now, if I let you go, will you promise not to run or scream?”

  Silence hung heavy in the air as the woman pondered my proposal, her eyes flickering with a mixture of uncertainty and hope. After a long moment, she nodded, a gesture that spoke volumes about her trust in me. My sword was already in hand, its sharp edge catching the light. With a swift, decisive stroke, I sliced through the lock of her restraints and felt a surge of satisfaction as the metal fell away with a satisfying clatter.

  The metal was thin and brittle, giving way easily under the weight of my blade. It was almost as if the captors had never expected anyone to come to the lady’s aid, implementing only the most cursory of measures to prevent her escape.

  The Goblin’s contorted form writhed in agony as she struggled to find some measure of comfort after being freed. Her body was tense, her movements strained and awkward as she stretched out the areas that had suffered the most. It was clear that the pain was more immediate than any fear or apprehension she might be feeling.

  Exhausted and drained from her ordeal, the Goblin finally came to a halt and sat down on the unforgiving ground. I offered her my water flask, hoping to alleviate some of the discomfort etched on her face. With a subservient nod, she took the flask, her fingers trembling as she brought it to her lips.

  I settled down beside her, and her first attempts at drinking were accompanied by hacking coughs and sputtering. It was clear she had been deprived of water for far too long, her body reacting violently to the sudden influx of liquid. Even as I tried to help her, Saresh remained ever watchful, his gaze scanning the area for any sign of danger.

  Gradually, the Goblin’s breathing steadied, and she was able to swallow without difficulty. Eager to quench her thirst, she reached for the flask again, but I held up a hand, cautioning her to take it slow.

  “You shouldn’t drink so much at once. Your body will reject it,” I advised, taking the flask gently from her hand.

  “You speak Goblin?” She asked in surprise, and I didn’t even realize that I was speaking it. Rabbit must have been translating without my notice. I had no clue what I would have done if he weren’t here. My sanity would probably be restored, but I would probably die immediately without his help.

  Rabbit chimed in, “Without me, you would be useless. Remember when you used to think a serial killer was someone who would break into your house and check your cereal, and if they didn’t like your choices, they would kill you for it? You couldn’t even figure out your own language, let alone other ones.”

  “I was seven years old,” I replied. “You can’t blame me.” I didn’t even realize I said the first part using my active voice in my head. Rabbit couldn’t hear my thoughts, only the ones I spoke aloud in my mind. If we could listen to each other's every thought, I wasn’t sure what would distinguish us.

  “I’m younger than that,” Rabbit replied, like our ages are the same thing, “and I know Count Chocula won’t save me from a serial killer. Actually, he is likely to give you diabetes, so perhaps he’s the ultimate killer in disguise.” At that point, I tuned him out, realizing that arguing with him was a waste of my time.

  “Yes. Why were you there?” I gestured to the stockades as if it was needed.

  “Punishment,” she answered, barely above a whisper.

  Releasing a criminal didn’t exactly bode well for our situation. If she knew a way out, I might still release her, but if the crime was bad enough, I could find my own path out. I didn’t want to release someone evil.

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  “For disobeying orders and attacking my new husband.” As she said this, she was trying to control herself. It was evident she was in a lot of pain.

  I opened my mouth to ask for more details, but that was when she broke. She started sobbing uncontrollably. Her eyes were squinting because of the light, but then they were closed, and tears ran down her black and burned face.

  “I… I… I had been married off several times. I was a good Goblin. I didn’t complain and did my duties. I was a good Goblin.” Her sobs increased. “My… My last husband was killed. And the one who won me killed off my sons. Then he planned to trade my eldest daughter off for another bride. She is just a child. She is too young, too young to be a bride. She is too young to understand what is going on.”

  The Goblin trembled and cried some more.

  “Many of our males are gone at the moment in the Sacred Tree territory,” she continued. “I thought now was the time to act. I tried to escape with my daughters. To where? I don’t know. Maybe until they were old enough to return, but even without enough soldiers around, they still caught us. I tried to stop it.” She grabbed my hand as if pleading with me to understand. “I tried so hard. My daughters. They took them all away.” The crying grew more intense and made it hard for her to speak coherently.

  I prodded her. “How long were you to stay in here?”

  She looked back angrily at the stockade, but nowhere near the amount when she was talking about her children. “They spent a long time punishing me. I was going to remain in that place until I died,” she said as if she didn’t care, as if the punishment wasn’t that bad, as if she was used to that and worse. When she said, ‘punishing me,’ I wanted to know, but a greater part of me pleaded to keep my innocence, and I never asked.

  “We can help you leave if you help us find the path,” I offered, as if that would make a difference.

  She crumpled her features in disgust. Her face was blackened and blistered, and it probably hurt to move it and express emotions, but she ignored the pain to shoot me a look. “And leave my children to this fate that is worse than death? Never. If you’re going to kill me, you might as well do it now. It would be kindness. I can’t help you any further.”

  At those words, Saresh moved forward. “You don’t have to do it. I will do it for you.”

  At that, I stood up to my full height and gave Saresh a look that made him take a step back. I wasn’t an intimidating-looking person like Jack or Carrick, but he had seen me ruthlessly kill someone recently. Since then, I had been nothing but kind to him. But right then, I would have slaughtered a hundred bastards just to keep this woman from crying. If my expression showed even a fraction of what I felt, he’d know not to take another step.

  “Don’t,” I said. Just one word, but it carried all the weight it needed.

  Saresh backed off immediately and didn’t bring it up again. Even so, when I looked at her, part of me was still angry at him for offering in the first place.

  My face changed as I turned back to her. “I want to help. You said there were a reduced number of guards. Maybe we can get your children out safely, too.”

  She looked up with hope for a second, but then said, “There is no chance. My second daughter was given to our leader as an example of what happens to those who disobey.” She lowered her gaze.

  “Why don’t the women fight back?” I asked. “You have the numbers.”

  She stared at me like I was crazy. “They are bigger. They have weapons. They have levels. What could we do?” She then looked at me as if she had never seen me before. “You are bigger than they are. You have weapons. And you may have levels. What is an odd-looking Elf and a Human doing down here?” She asked. It seemed odd that this was the first time she raised this question, but I guess she was more distraught about her daughters than worried about us.

  “We are trapped and trying to find our way out,” Saresh butted in.

  I amended what he was saying. “That we are, but...” I paused, emphasizing, “But we might be able to help you if we can.”

  “He might help you,” Saresh said, folding his arms.

  I was okay with his statement. I didn’t make him promise to help me free some lady and her children. If Saresh wanted a way out, that was his choice. My decision wasn’t a good one for myself, but it was the right one, and that was enough. “Yes, you might get my help. Saresh here needs to leave safely. Do you think you can help us? And what is your name? Mine is Alf.”

  “I am Blanket,” she said with a bow that I assumed hurt. “You must speak with those in charge. Without their approval, I cannot help you.”

  I didn’t even know what to say to the name. Even Michael Jackson couldn’t get away with naming a kid ‘Blanket.’ I just had to remember it was a different culture.

  “Who is in charge?” I finally asked.

  “Bubble is in charge of our elders, with Sparkle overseeing the rest of us,” she answered.

  “Well, with names like Bubble and Sparkle, Blanket doesn’t sound as off the wall,” Rabbit added. “I thought Michael Jackson was their father.”

  “I know. That’s what I was thinking too. Wouldn’t that be a ‘Thriller’?” I joked to him in my head.

  “You say my puns are bad, but I think yours ‘are bad, are bad, come on, you know it. Owee!’” Rabbit replied, even adding in Michael Jackson’s classic scream. It was funny, probably only to me, but I had to suppress a smile not to make this conversation creepy.

  Rabbit had a knack for knowing how to make me feel better. Whenever something was too heavy for my soul, he would throw in an inappropriate joke to help me cope and redirect my mind.

  Blanket then stood and went in the direction from which the other farmers had come. “Will the others see us?” I asked, concerned about encountering resistance on the way as we followed her.

  “No, it’s in the middle of the day, so most are asleep,” she replied. That seemed strange to me until I happened to glance at her blackened skin. I guess sleeping during the day and hiding in caves made sense when the sun burned you that badly.

  “Then why farm in those dark outfits? Why not farm at night? It has to be hot in them,” I commented.

  “It is. There are two shifts during this season. It’s not just farming we do, but also herb collection. Most herbs have different magical potency depending on whether they’re harvested during the day or the night. Different attributes depend on what is picked. Currently, it’s harvest time, so we must spend our time out here often,” she replied, then asked a question of her own. “What are you doing down here? Have you come to take our city?”

  “I was trying to save some Dwarves when I fell into a hole and got trapped down here,” I informed her.

  “Why would you want to save Dwarves? They are evil,” she ridiculed with utter disgust on her face.

  “Have you ever met a Dwarf?” I asked.

  “No, but I have heard stories about them,” she countered.

  “From the same people who take children as brides? From the same people who tied you up in the sun to die?” I exclaimed. I knew I was being harsh, but sometimes you needed to use an extreme example to illustrate your point clearly. “I’m not saying they are bad or good, but maybe you should meet them before making a judgment on your own. Things that are said about others are often untrue or altered based on the speaker.”

  She didn’t say anything for a while. A heavy silence settled between us as we left the area, the weight of the Goblin's unspoken thoughts almost palpable. I couldn't help but wonder if she was holding back her opinions for fear of offending me, or if she had learned to keep her thoughts to herself to avoid punishment.

  As we made our way through a series of oddly small hallways, I noticed that the passage seemed to shrink in size, becoming more cramped and claustrophobic. It was clear that this part of the city was not built with the same precision and care as the other sections we had passed through. The walls were rough-hewn and uneven, the ceiling low enough that I had to stoop to avoid hitting my head.

  It was clear that the Goblins themselves had carved out these extra passages, but for what purpose? They seemed redundant, a needless expansion of their already sprawling city. Perhaps it was simply an effort to keep themselves occupied, or maybe it was a way to assert their dominance over the underground realm they had carved out for themselves. Whatever the reason, it was clear that the Goblins were not content to remain idle.

  After a while, she spoke, “I guess you’re right. It’s hard to know what to believe.” Since her reply came at least several minutes after our exchange, I was surprised she had been thinking about the subject for so long.

  We continued in silence for a while, each lost in our own thoughts. The darkness enveloped us as we wound our way deeper into the city. Eventually, the cave opened up, revealing a small door ahead. As we crossed the threshold, the darkness grew thicker, pressing in around us, and a sense of unease crept into my mind. I could barely see my hand in front of my face, and doubt began to gnaw at me. Was this a trap? Was I being led into an ambush?

  The silence felt ominous, and every footstep echoed as though the shadows themselves were listening. My heart pounded, and I kept my hand close to my weapon, ready for anything.

  Then, a flicker of light appeared in the distance. It was a faint, distant glow that cut through the blackness. As we cautiously moved closer, the light grew stronger, revealing the surrounding cavern walls and the hidden details that the darkness had obscured. Relief washed over me as I realized we were back in some part of the city, though the threat still lingered in the back of my mind. The light continued to grow brighter as we approached, although it never approached the brightness of the sun's radiance.