Chapter 33: A Hunting Party

  Chastity hurried up the sloping incline past scrubby pine and exposed rock in search of the disturbance. After several minutes she reached an elevated glade accented by heavy, fallen logs. There were small tracks marking the snow, and what looked to be droplets of bright red blood.

  Before she could trace the source of these, a nasally call came from the nearest woods, accompanied by a rhythmic thwacking sound.

  “Comeout comeout!”

  Thwack, thwack, thwack.

  “You can’t hide from us!”

  Thwack, thwack, thwack.

  Chastity stood her ground as first one, then another, and finally a third figure emerged. They were short and green skinned, with jaundiced eyes and pointed teeth. Chastity involuntarily flinched at the unnerving sight, then steeled herself.

  “Identify,” she said quietly.

  Glowing outlines wreathed the three figures, and with a chime, the accompanying text boxes appeared in Chastity’s vision.

  Chastity took a deep breath as she mentally swiped away the follow up notification about her increased proficiency.

  Goblins. One of the so-called corrupted races, she thought. And they’ve got me outnumbered.

  The goblins wore mismatched armor of hide and fur, and each carried weapons. Two had short swords, with which they beat the branches and brush in search of… whatever it was they were looking for. These first two were Level 3, the same as Chastity. But the other one, the ‘skirmisher,’ was a level higher, and carried a curved, jagged blade.

  Chastity silently drew a javelin and held it at her side, meeting the eyes of the nearest goblin.

  “Gah!!”

  The pack of goblins were just as surprised to see her and she was to see them. At first they shrunk back, but gradually realizing their superior numbers stepped boldly into the glade. Chastity swept her right leg back, getting into her throwing stance.

  I mustn’t let them surround me, she thought.

  The Paladin did some quick mental math. By her calculations, she was down nine Focus Points, leaving only eleven from her available pool. Detect Evil would cost five, smiting said evil would cost ten–she couldn’t afford both. But she hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

  “Lookee!” the nearest goblin shrieked. “A humangirl!”

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  “Watchout she’s armed!” the skirmisher squealed, swinging his nasty-looking sword back and forth in front of him.

  “I have no quarrel with you,” Chastity said, tightening her grip on the javelin’s shaft.

  Three goblins, three javelins. But these potential threats were armed and armored. And probably quick, too. They could close the gap and strike with their melee weapons, erasing any ranged advantage. Could she pierce a hide chestpiece? With enough force, of course she could.

  “No quarrel? No quarrel?” one of the scouts repeated, chittering.

  Meanwhile, the other scout turned his attention to the blood-flecked snow. Getting down on all fours like an animal, he sniffed the ground.

  “The blueskin’s close!” he snarled.

  Blueskin? Must be whatever they are looking for, thought Chastity. Some kind of beast? Are they hunting for food? No, I’m certain I heard somebody crying out in distress.

  “Like I said, I have no quarrel with you,” she began again in measured tones. “If you have no ill intent, I suggest we go our separate ways.”

  “Another human in the woods! Urlug won’t be happy. Nonono,” the skirmisher said, wavering between a threatening posture and uncertainty.

  The first scout scrambled over to a nearby fallen tree, scraping loose snow away from one end. Chastity realized the trunk was hollowed out.

  “Foundem!” the goblin cried gleefully.

  Leaving the skirmisher to face off against Chastity alone, both scouts dove to the ground and thrust their spindly arms into the hollow log. There were pained whimpers and shouts of protest as they each grabbed hold of some creature by the legs and dragged it out.

  Chastity blinked as a fourth unusual figure was added to the mix. A small humanoid, roughly the size of a halfling, lay curled up in the snow. It was dressed in rags, was completely bald, and had blue-tinged gray skin. The Paladin resisted the urge to pop off another Identify ability; she had to conserve her remaining Focus Points.

  “Oh, let go! Let go!” this ‘blueskin’ groaned. Chastity noticed that it, or ‘he,’ favored his side, from where fresh blood seeped.

  “No escape! We told you no escape!” one of the scouts hissed in the wounded one’s ear.

  Chastity grimaced. She could sense the likelihood of a diplomatic solution waning.

  “You there, are you hurt?” she called to the unusual creature, or rather, the unusual person.

  He lifted up large pale eyes, focusing on the Paladin through a fog of obvious pain.

  “The goblins stabbed Kobelt. They keep Kobelt prisoner. Forced to dig, dig, dig!”

  Who or what is kobelt? Chastity wondered. Nevertheless, this wouldn’t do.

  “Release–” Chastity paused for an instant. The voice and wrinkled, bald head were masculine enough, so she picked a pronoun and went with it. “–him. He’s injured and needs help!”

  The goblins hissed.

  “Stay out of it, humangirl! Or we’ll gut you too! There’s three of us, and one of you!”

  (He should have been a goblin bard with rhymes like that.)

  The scouts grabbed the blueskin by the collar of his rags and hoisted him up, holding a swordpoint to his neck. Blood trickled freely onto the snow. The skirmisher stepped closer to his opponent.

  I think it’s safe to say that I’ve detected evil.

  “This is your last chance,” the Paladin warned. “Let him go so I can tend to his injuries. Then you can explain to me what justification you have for keeping this poor fellow a prisoner. Are you his jailers? Has he committed a crime?”

  “No! They capture Kobelt, and take Kobelt away from his home! They work Kobelt as a slave!”

  “Shutup blueskin or we slit your throat!” a goblin snarled.

  The skirmisher pointed his sword menacingly at Chastity.

  “And you can be our slave too! Or die where you stand!”

  I have no desire to take a life, guilty or not, Chastity thought grimly. These are sapient beings, not spiders or wraiths. Not even in self-defense do I want to kill these goblins. But they are threatening this person–whose name I presume is Kobelt. By the look of that wound they have already done quite a bit of damage to him. I can’t just stand by and let something worse happen.

  “Smite Evil.”

  As righteous indignation rose within her, an equally hot energy radiated down her right arm, enveloped her gloved hand, and sheathed the javelin in a holy aura. Chastity’s eyes flashed with defiance.

  The goblin skirmisher charged, blade raised.

  With a virtuous battle cry, the Paladin flung the javelin straight ahead.