Bushes rustled in the wilderness surrounding Wayfarrow, and only a few things disturbed the tranquil summer evening air.

  The call of a blackbird. The yapping bark of some fox-like creature. The low hum of a bee or wasp just out of sight...

  ...The sound of half a hundred squat, green-skinned monsters setting up camp in the dell across from the [Scout]’s position.

  The bushes stopped rustling as Ulfran made his way to where Marie and Dusty Brow watched, laying flat on their stomachs, obscured from the industrious creatures by thin vegetation. The allagi was quieter than Dusty had been, but then he was a [Hunter].

  “Dead nights. That’s a lot of goblins.”

  The two women shifted their heads to look at him.

  “It’s not so many.” Dusty scoffed, though Marie noted her voice was a forced whisper. “There aren’t more than a few warriors amongst them.”

  “Makes you wonder where the warriors are then.”

  “...hopefully not close by.”

  Marie’s gaze darted between the two as sweat built up on the back of her neck. Down by her feet, Napoleon shifted on a rock and she flicked a finger at him to wait.

  “Maybe we should count their numbers and get a bit further back.”

  They took a minute to watch the activity unfolding in the dell. Larger goblins bending saplings together and tying them to each other to form the frame for a hut. Younger ones rushing round collecting stones and kindling and lighting fires. A goblin with long arms and a bow shot the blackbird to a round of guttural cheers, and one that looked like a child scrambled up to its nest and began to throw eggs down to the waiting adults below.

  Ulfran and Dusty began to inch back, having taken stock of the situation, but Marie lingered for a few moments longer. When she’d first peeped over the ridge, warned by her [Dangersense] to keep quiet, she’d frozen at the strange figures who looked like something out of a horror film. Had they been up close, her Skills told her they’d reach no higher than her chest, except for one that was notably larger than the others, and even then it was only three quarters of an inch taller than her. But that wasn’t what gave her pause. No. It was the broad faces with too-wide mouths and needle-like teeth. It was the raggedness of their too-long ears and the sharpness of their features. Bandy-legged and wiry on the most part, they looked somehow both malnourished and as though they’d be stronger than they had any right to be. Like a… what were they? Not a chimpanzee. A bonobo. A green, hairless bonobo that had been crossed with a shark.

  She’d taken her glasses off to avoid any risk of the sun glinting off them, and now she donned them again so she could spot any loose rocks that might dislodge and give her position away as she wriggled backwards.

  The other two were already creeping back to where Ashe and Sprig waited near the shelter of a willow fifty yards away, searching for any sign of herbs.

  Consequently, when she felt a tingling sensation in her neck and caught her foot on a protruding root, she was in a prime position to see Ashe leap up and loose an arrow straight at her.

  She felt her [Lucky Dodge] activate and turned her trip over the root into an [Evasive Roll]. Suppressing her urge to shout at the woman, Marie rolled to her feet and prepared to throw herself out of the way of another shot, when she noticed that Ulfran and Dusty were sending tense looks her way, and not towards the allagi archer.

  The ever-present [Dangersense] suddenly went into overdrive and as she spun round and scampered back to crouch alongside Ulfran, she saw the three-foot long hornet that lay dead on the ground in the shadow of a rock, skewered by an arrow, and heard raised voices speaking a guttural tongue heading their way from the other side of the hill.

  With a shudder of revulsion, she flinched away from it.

  Eugh. Wasps.

  She hissed for Napoleon to heel, but before they could make a run for it, a goblin appeared as if out of the stony outcropping itself, and let out a barking cry as it spotted them.

  In an instant, Dusty’s spear and shield were at the ready, and Maire crouched to grab a rock. She could tell from the angle and the vegetation that her [Precise Cartography] had mapped that Ashe wouldn’t have a good shot on him. Then, before she could throw, she was brought up short.

  “Wait.” Ulfran demanded, raising a hand to block Dusty from launching an attack, and holding up another to signal to Ashe as another half dozen figures crawled over the stone and scree, and then another, and suddenly they were outnumbered more than two-to-one.

  Marie couldn’t think over the pounding of her heart,

  Ulfran breathed out slowly.

  “They’re not charging. This might not have to come to bloodshed.”

  “Spoken like a true Bronze-ranker.” Dusty snarled under her breath. “Are you a [Hunter] or a [Coward]?”

  “I won’t be anything if we turn this into a fight.”

  The number of goblins on the rise in front of them grew to almost twenty as the two sides hesitated, caught in a temporary stalemate.

  Dusty hissed, eyes narrowing to slits.

  “Great. That’s too many for me to take on alone now. You lot’d better be ready.”

  The situation was only worsening, and Marie whispered out of the corner of her mouth to the allagi [Hunter] as he stood, motionless. She was certain that running would be a very bad move.

  Treat them like a wild animal. Like a predator.

  “Do you have a plan here, Ulfran? What are we waiting for?”

  A couple of the goblins backed down off the rise and disappeared from view.

  Ulfran replied, shifting into a relaxed pose, though Marie could hear the tension in his voice.

  “Goblins aren’t wild animals.”

  Right - well there goes that idea then.

  The [Hunter] turned to Dusty as the tabaxi snorted.

  “You must know they’re not. They’re dangerous. Often vicious. But they’re not… evil. Not always, like some other creatures. The town’s traded with them on occasion. Or at least, we allagi have. Hells, one or two have even joined the guild before. And some of them work as mercenaries.”

  Marie could hear the grinding of Dusty’s teeth, but she seemed to relent.

  “Okay. So they’re not definitely monsters. You heard Marie. What’s the plan?”

  Drawing a deep breath, Ulfran scrunched up his features, opened his mouth wide, and gave a series of short growling barks that made Napoleon jump and spin round as he sought out the new danger.

  No one else moved, until one of the goblins took a few steps forward and grunted. Ulfran hesitated a moment, then performed a few gestures and grunted back.

  “What’s going on?” Dusty growled, clutching her spear tighter.

  “I’m negotiating.” Ulfran murmured back as the goblin scampered back over the hill.

  In the minute of tense silence that followed, Ulfran relayed his plan to them under his breath.

  “I don’t speak much Goblin, but I said I was looking to trade.”

  “Merde. Trade what? What have we got?”

  “I said we’d give them food.”

  “For what? Them letting you leave with your balls intact?”

  For the first time, Ulfran properly looked away from the massed goblin bodies and gave a withering glare to Dusty.

  “For herbs.”

  Dusty’s eyebrows rose, until he qualified his statement.

  “Well, I don’t know the Goblin for herb. I said nice green plant, but he went off either to find some nice green plants or someone who can help.”

  They lapsed into silence and Marie managed to get her heartrate under control, and began to think clearly now she wasn’t in imminent danger of being stung to death or mobbed by a tide of wiry green bodies.

  Thirty one and a half feet to the closest goblin. They don’t seem to have any bows. If we can outrun them…

  As she was formulating her options, a new silhouette emerged on the rocky mound. Although it was no taller, the figure was definitely more rotund, though how much of that was its body and how much was the robes Marie wasn’t entirely sure. Her pulse began to quicken again as she saw another hornet - as big as the one whose corpse lay in the shadow of the rock between the goblins and her meagre party - perching on the figure’s shoulder, hovering in place.

  That changed things a little? How fast could a child-sized hornet fly? Did it matter?

  If it comes to a fight, I am going to kill that thing and then run.

  The figure approached a few feet down the slope towards them, and Marie was startled to hear it speak, albeit in a very broken manner, and in a voice that sounded like nails drawn across a blackboard.

  “Fishear say you want swap wiv Skitterfang tribe, wolf man? You got food? What you want? He say green flower. You tell me now.”

  Ulfran glanced towards Marie, but seemed to realise he’d taken on the role of negotiator, and took a step forward.

  “Mighty chief of the Skitterfang. We bring food to trade - dried fruits and meats and other things. Can bring more too. All we ask for is a herb that grows near here. The purple plant that… leaves looks like sheep's tails.”

  A few of the goblins huddled round their spokesperson and began to chitter to each other. The hairs of the back of Marie’s neck rose at the sound of it.

  Moments later, the cluster parted and the robed goblin spoke up again.

  “I not chief, but maybe I do deal. Show me food.”

  Moving with careful slowness, Ulfran reached down to his belt and pulled off a pouch, which he tossed through the air to land at the base of the meagre hill. He stepped back as the spokesgoblin sent a smaller member of the tribe to retrieve it. As soon as he drew level with Dusty and Marie he tried to whisper without moving his mouth.

  “‘e ‘ight have to run anyway.”

  A hum of agreement came from Dusty.

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  “you noticed it too?”

  “merde. what?”

  Dusty cleared her throat as she struggled to keep her voice low enough that only the two of them would hear.

  “He’s not their chief; he’s probably a [Shaman] or [Sorcerer]. You see the wasp on his shoulder? Probably a pet of some sort. You see the one lying dead by the rock with an arrow through its thorax?” The three of them studiously ignored looking in its direction. “Well, as soon as one of them comes closer and spots it, I think they might tell mister-not-chief-Skitterfang up there, and he might just lose his willingness to do business with us.”

  Breath starting to come quicker as she glanced over to the thirty-or-so creatures now keeping watch, though the group around their spokesgoblin were now digging into the pouch of dried berries with gusto, Marie whispered back, looking to Dusty as the most experienced.

  “I do not like the sound of a [Sorcerer] - I have been burned before - or the idea of being round for too long. You said their fighters were not here. Do we fight, or run? They do not look so fast.”

  There was the slightest pause in the tabaxi’s answer.

  “I can’t keep you all safe with this many people. Not on open ground. We try to put some distance between us, then we run.”

  “Hey, food man. I like dis. You got more?”

  From this distance, it was hard to tell, but Marie swore the hunger in the goblin’s eyes was for more than fruit. A faint sensation off in the long grass to the south of where they stood flickered in her mind, but as Ulfran stepped forward to reply she didn’t have the opportunity to mention it. She tapped her fingers on her belt - a signal she had been teaching Napoleon - and the skeletal hound hunkered down, ready to fight… or run.

  Two…three goblins are circling round. One has a sword?

  “Goblins of the Skitterfang tribe.” Ulfran did well to keep his voice level and conversational. “I have more, and better foods that I can bring. Perhaps I can bring you over some more samples if you allow me and my companions to retrieve them? It would only take us a minute.”

  The robed creature leered down.

  “Just you go. Dey wait. We get herb ready. Lots an lots. Good trade.”

  “Very well, I shall be back in a moment.”

  “Dat good. Not take too long. Don’t wanna fink you up to sumfink.”

  Ulfran gave an apologetic shrug as he turned and began to slowly walk away in the direction of the others, no doubt hoping to warn Ashe and Sprig to get going.

  It is the smart move to make. They are lower leveled.

  For all she reassured herself, Marie couldn’t help but feel exposed now she and Dusty were outnumbered worse than fifteen to one. She caught the eye of the [Resonance Striker] and pretended to scratch her arm, showing three fingers to the tabaxi and subtly inclining her head in the direction of the trio of goblins that seemed to be aiming to cut off any retreat.

  Dusty’s head barely shifted in reply, and there was only the faintest parting of her lips as she murmured a reply.

  “can you take them?”

  With glacial slowness, Marie nodded.

  “good. then when I attack, you take them out and start running.”

  They stood for over a minute in silence, waiting ostensibly for Ulfran to come back from the obscuring shadow of the willow tree, though they both knew he wasn’t aiming to return.

  It seemed like the goblin eventually came to the same conclusion.

  “Look like food man not c-”

  Before he could finish his sentence, Dusty gave a roar and bellowed as she charged forwards.

  “[Armour Up]. [Spear of Steel], [Power Throw].”

  The goblins shrieked in rage over the sound of snapping metal as they dove for cover, and Marie could hear them begin to shout their own Skills in their own guttural language, but she was already moving.

  [Adrenaline Surge]

  Skills didn’t need to be said to be used. Some - like her [Lucky Dodge (Once per Day)] - didn’t even need to be consciously activated to save you from monstrous hornets diving for your neck. But she was thankful Dusty had shouted hers - almost certainly to draw the attention away from the rest of them.

  The only sound Marie made as she launched her own attack, thanks to her [Silent Steps], was a shrill whistle that set Napoleon sprinting off after her as she spun for the three goblins who’d been sneaking through the grass.

  How does he hear me without ears?

  Despite having the advantage of surprise, doubly so for the creatures that had thought they were being sneaky, Marie wasn’t quite fast enough to catch them out.

  Before she’d covered half the distance, Napoleon sprinting at her side, pulling her canteen into her hand, the three goblins had spread out, the one with a sword in the middle, others holding crude knives flanking him.

  Even in the second or two before she closed the distance, with the adrenaline flooding her body, Marie didn’t like the way the central goblin stood.

  Like he knows how to use his blade.

  Hoping that Napoleon would go for the bigger one, she shifted the angle of her attack at the last moment and mentally activated a second Skill.

  [Bonebreaker Charge]!

  It was one of her bigger ones, but Marie didn’t want to face three opponents at once, and as she jerked towards the goblin on the left, she dipped her shoulder and ran through the smaller creature.

  There was an audible crunch as she hit it, and a flash of pain ran through her body, but it wasn’t enough to worry about or to slow her down.

  Wishing she had time to grab one of the pans in her pack to be an [Improvised Shield], she instead skidded and spun to face the remaining two, and hurled the rock she was still carrying at the larger one just as Napoleon lunged for him, distracting him from smashing the undead hound with one blow of his blade. Off behind her she could hear Dusty yelling a trio of Skills and a small part of her marveled at the fact that the tabaxi was holding off half of the entire tribe as the larger part of her mind focused on the two she had left to face.

  Make it one as fast as you can.

  With Napoleon distracting the larger goblin for a moment, she darted forwards at the second goblin, who held a rusty knife that looked just sharp enough to be scary. Without considering what she’d have left to fight the bigger one with, she activated another of her Skills, this time shouting it out as the adrenaline reached a tipping point.

  “[Swift Blow]!”

  The leather-wrapped metal of the canteen lashed out almost too fast to follow, and the shock as it came into contact with the goblin’s head would have torn it from her grasp had her [Keen Grip] not kept it there.

  Instead of the canteen being ripped from her hand, a portion of the goblin’s face was ripped from its head, and with the adrenaline pumping Marie watched as though in slow motion as the scrawny creature’s eye caved in, and the skin of its face was crushed into its skull, which shattered and blew out with the force of her blow, sending shreds of green flesh, shards of pale bone and chunks of pink-grey brain matter spraying into the air.

  The goblin collapsed, blood beginning to spurt from the wound as its body failed to realise it was dead.

  Marie threw up.

  It wasn’t a conscious decision. She didn’t even realise it was happening until her mouth was open and the contents of her stomach were spewing across the sun-kissed field. She coughed, trying to clear her airways in shock, and only a scrabbling from Napoleon and the vestiges of her [Situational Awareness] warned her of the incoming attack.

  “[???????]!”

  At the last second she heard the goblin screech and reacted. And even then, the [Evasive Roll] she threw herself into wasn’t enough to fully save her.

  Her teeth clenched in pain as a blossom of fire erupted in her side. She sucked in a breath as she came to her feet and span, before she almost choked and spat as the sudden inhalation caught the remnants of the vomit in her mouth.

  There was no time to stop or deal with it as the wiry goblin pressed his attack. She barely managed to use the canteen to parry the strikes he sent her way.

  Her empty hand snaked down and ripped the coil of rope from her belt, but even as she transferred it to her right hand and shifted the canteen to act as a shield, the improvised whip and a limping Napoleon darting in to tear at his leg barely kept the greenskin off her.

  She was being forced back, retreating, but as she danced back from another swing of the goblin’s blade, she gave silent thanks that at least it was towards the willow.

  “Marie, let’s go!”

  Where the allagi were, Marie didn’t know, but she shouted back to Dusty.

  “I am a little busy!”

  The goblin growled another Skill in its rasping tongue and as she blocked the blow with her canteen it split and she felt her arm go numb halfway to her elbow.

  “Marie, run to me, now!”

  Do not fail me, tabaxi.

  Trusting to the woman’s expertise, Marie dropped the broken container, gave a sharp whistle, turned, and sprinted towards the grey-armoured form of Dusty, now covered by nicks and scorch marks.

  It has not even been a minute!

  Eleven goblins were lying dead on the ground, and the rest had huddled up and pulled back as Dusty retreated. The robed goblin, sheltering two huge wasps now, one of which had a torn wing, snarled and spoke something in its guttural language, sending a streak of green energy surging towards Dusty. She raised her shield to block it almost as an afterthought as she turned towards the incoming Marie and the sword-wielding goblin hot on her heels.

  As Marie closed the gap between them with impressive speed, angling past Dusty and heading for the willow, the tabaxi leveled her spear in her direction, waited for a heartbeat, then thrust it forwards and just to the side of her chest.

  “[Ten-Foot Strike]!”

  The spear lanced out, further than it had any right to.

  Ten feet exactly.

  A small part of Marie’s brain measured the distance as another part cursed the woman for missing. It hadn’t even reached Marie, let alone the goblin behind her. She opened her mouth to curse out loud as the tabaxi turned tail and ran, but before she could yell for help, a ghostly image of a spear flickered out exactly where the first had.

  Ten feet exactly?

  Marie couldn’t tell, as she could only see seven feet and three inches of the ethereal shaft where passed right by her arm, but she heard the gurgle of the goblin that had only been a couple of feet behind her.

  She didn’t stop to check, but as she caught up with Dusty, the [Resonance Striker] flashed her a grin.

  “[Echoing Strikes]. They never see it coming.”

  The pair sprinted away from the howling goblins, heading for the tree as the greenskins gave chase. They passed under its boughs - the three allagi were gone - and kept running.

  A few steps beyond the branches, Marie felt a sudden tingling, but it wasn’t from the goblins.

  Between one foot striking the ground and the next, she realised the obvious, and stretched one arm out to grab Dusty’s Shoulder.

  “[Mighty Leap]!”

  The cat-woman wasn’t heavy, but in her armour and with her equipment she had to weigh close to a couple of hundred pounds, and the soaring heights of previous uses of the Skill turned into more of a horizontal dive that sent the two of them hurtling into the ground a couple of yards ahead, losing precious time.

  “Pleugh.” Dusty spat out a mouthful of earth as she scrambled to her feet and pulled Maire along with her, glancing back at the goblins as they caught up part of the distance. “What was that for?”

  Marie didn’t reply as she sucked in air and set off at a run towards the fleeing forms of the rest of their group darting through the fields ahead. She didn’t have to - the question answered itself ten seconds later.

  The front four goblins screeched as they ran through the area Marie and Dusty had leapt over, and iron spikes shot out of the ground on great metal jaws, clamping down on the green-skinned pursuers.

  “Oh, right,” Dusty’s breath was deep but even, “the girl is a [Trapper].”

  They continued their flight, with Marie in the lead, skidding sideways whenever her dangersense pinged, although it also alerted her when the one bow-wielding goblin began to take pot-shots at them. She was high enough level over Sprig to detect the traps despite the [Trapper]’s Skills; it seemed that most of the goblins were not.

  After the first half a minute, the two began to outpace the shorter, bandy-legged greenskins and by the time Dusty had stopped bothering to deflect the one goblin archer’s attempts to hit them, they’d caught up with the allagi on the outskirts of a copse, or rather, the allagi were waiting for them whilst Sprig set up another trap. Ashe picked off one of the faster goblins that had almost been keeping up with them, and it fell with an arrow through its shoulder with a squeal.

  “No time. Keep running.”

  The others looked at Dusty as she gave the order, skidding in and pausing for a second to catch her breath. She pointed in the direction of Wayfarrow insistently.

  “Those lot aren’t enough to be a real Silver-ranked threat. We need to put more distance between us and them before their warriors return and are sent after us.”

  As if to prove her right, a new cry went up back in the direction of the goblin encampment. A hollow, drumming sound.

  The group tensed, and as Dusty urged the allagi to leave the trap and start running again, Marie saw a figure stumble through the knee-high grass.

  “Oh, Napoleon. Mon dieu. Your leg. I am so sorry. I would not leave you behind.”

  She scooped up the undead hound, grimacing at the crack in its foreleg, and started running after Dusty Brow.

  Sounds of real pursuit came after the first five minutes. Their flight hadn’t been slow, but for some reason the goblins chasing them now were making far better progress. That reason became apparent by the time they’d run their first mile. Marie looked back as they reached the summit of one of the rolling hills they were traversing and saw, a couple of hills back, a silhouette against the setting sun of a goblin warrior sitting astride a chitinous form.

  Too many legs blurred and the warrior was after them, with other shapes cresting the top of the hill behind that.

  Five miles, two hundred and eleven yards to Wayfarrow, à vol d'oiseau…

  It had taken them all afternoon to traverse the terrain on the way out. Granted they’d been moving stealthily, and pausing to track. They hadn’t had the motivation of a band of screaming monsters behind them either.

  With their pace now?

  We would be lucky to make it in an hour.

  She called out the warning and the group stepped up their pace. For all she was in heavy armour, Dusty seemed to be having an easier time of it than anyone but Marie herself. The allagi were fit, but not runners.

  Ten minutes later as the allagi begged for a second to draw breath, Marie checked the distance again.

  Four miles, one hundred and sixty three yards to Wayfarrow.

  They’d been keeping pace with their pursuers, Sprig throwing down the occasional [Instant Set] trap to dissuade the more reckless goblins, but one look at the allagi told Marie that they’d not maintain their lead long. Even she was beginning to feel a slight burn in her lungs, and she had [Lesser Endurance] and [Sure Footing] to help her along. And now it was growing darker. She shot Dusty a look as the hunters were gasping for air, and the tabaxi nodded. Setting Napoleon down and urging him to follow Ulfran, she gave the order.

  “You three. Go. Do not try to sprint but do not stop unless you collapse. We will slow them down and follow on.”

  Ulfran looked askance at her, but at her unyielding expression, he hurried the other two off, Napoleon limping along in tow.

  Dusty tensed, watching Marie carefully, waited until they were out of earshot, then exhaled.

  “Right. You actually meant it. My bad.”

  Marie paused, and then her eyes widened and she gave an incredulous look, but the tabaxi shrugged.

  “What? I have children!”

  Taking up a defensive pose in front of Marie, the level 23 [Resonance Striker], took charge.

  “Any ranged Skills you have, use them as soon as you think you might get a kill. Otherwise, stick behind me and try to stop them flanking me when they come. We keep walking backwards - every step we take is a step closer to home.”

  How much that would help when there were thousands of steps between them and safety she didn’t know, but Maire wasn’t going to argue with the more experienced adventurer. The cat-woman cursed as they began a slow fighting retreat.

  “Sun’s going down. How are you in the dark?”

  “Passable. I have [Twilight Vision].”

  “Good. If it gets too dark for that we’ll already be dead.”

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