The faint aroma of moss filled the air with freshness, and the early morning's dew dampened the atmosphere of the young forest. Birds of many colors and sizes mixed their songs into the wind as they relaxed among the supple branches. The rising sun pierced the many holes between the leaves, melding its nascent light to the forest's green. It was a beautiful dawn in this world of swords and sorceries, where horrors might lurk in the faintest gaps.

A disturbance came upon these calm grounds, hunting for that very darkness. It came as a rugged warrior clad in plate armor and worn leather. A chainmail covered every gap in his defense while a piece of fur kept his neck warm. The belt covering his sides presented a thick-bladed sword paired with a smaller throwable daggers, while pouches of varied sizes filled the rest of the space. Finally, a thick helm with broken horns enveloped the face. This grim equipment was unclean, it smelled of rot and blood that couldn't have been made by a man. But it was unmistakably a man underneath, a man on a mission.

This visitor stomped on the verdant soil in hurried yet controlled steps. Despite his startling stature and the heaviness of his attire, the silence with which he advanced told of his skills. He advanced through the untamed nature with great care for his surroundings, lurking between the slots of his helmet for the signs he had followed thus far. Broken branches and ploughed dirt stacked up in his mind to build up a certainty within.

Suddenly his walk came to a pause when he spotted a clue clearer than any that came before. At his feet, in the mud of a clearing, were the printings of something humanoid in nature. It was small, easily mistaken for a child's step. However, this particular hunter knew that it belongs to something other, something horribly warped and repugnant. The tracks were fresh, minutes old at best. It would not be long until he caught up with their owners.

Just as he had concluded before the sun arose, this was a small group of four... perhaps five specimens. Once again the Guild had gifted him with a great opportunity. He knew exactly what he was hunting, what he had always hunted; Goblins.

The little monsters were small and reproduced very quickly. Their savage intellect was lacking in contrast to the nobler species like the Humans and their comrades, childlike at best. Yet their cruelty and their large numbers made them a true scourge. Regularly these low rank monsters were underestimated by adventurers who left the stacking quests that involved them to the beginners and the unmotivated. If only people opened their minds, they would understand that the ugly goblins were responsible for the greater harm in these lands.

But in the forest was a man who understood what they were, more than anyone in this world. He had dedicated his life to eradicate their kind. His day were spent preparing with this one goal in mind. All goblins were an enemy of his. All goblins would die at his hands. For he was Goblin Slayer, and his targets were near.

Given the clues from their previous camps, the group appeared to be poorly equipped. No trace of shamans or evolved representatives in charge. But Goblin Slayer knew that even without clear trump cards the escapees remained dangerous, as were all goblins he ever tracked and killed. Dropping his guard would surely be the death of him so.

Goblin Slayer checked once again if his gear was in adequate shae. His daggers were sharpened and easily drawn. The steel sword had not grown dull from the plant-life he stormed through. The necessities he carried on his belt were available with the smallest motion. Good. He had checked many times already since the beginning of the chase, but that was no excuse for his driven mind. If this delay could ascertain his victory, then it was a good thing.

But before another step was taken, a strange noise reached his eardrums. A sort of buzzing sound that he had heard many times before. More than often he avoided it, knowing what dangers it represented. But on this early day Goblin Slayer finally turned up the nose to check the foliage of a nearby tree. What he saw made him ponder for a moment.

Certainly this questioning was wasting precious time and he knew it. The more he delays and the more prepared the goblins will be for his approach. But this… this was an opportunity. A new way to afflict his hated preys. Moreover he already possessed an item specifically adapted for this new venture. So then… could this old yet unused parameter be an assistance in his never-ending quest?

"Hmm... Perhaps..." He whispered in the low, raspy voice that horrors and tribulations had forged for him. No more hesitation then. The undergrowth would provide what the experienced adventurer required first. With great caution, he gathered the materials he needed: yellow mushrooms and timber. He could then proceeded to harvest his dangerous finding. As he worked, he imagined his next steps in scrutinous detail: where to target his new weapon, how to deal with sentries, take the enemy equipments in mind, the emotional factors of his approach, the terrain… Every angle needed to be addressed. Every possibility had to be considered. Fortunately, Goblin Slayer had trained himself to think fast, and he knew these parts well. The trees would taste goblin blood before the Sun reached its zenith.

"Ah… Chiguid mi." Sighed the young monster as bubbles appeared above the submerged recipient.

The sun had risen completely now, which wasn't ideal for the nocturnal goblins. All morning long they had been running further and further into the thicket. Being targeted all morning by a very motivated human was no way to live for these raiders of the night. Exhaustion had had forced them to take a short break near a river. There they asked the weakest of them to filled their gourds made out of goat bladders. He executed the command as the others stood by the remains of an old oak. In this clearing, there were four of them: two guards, one leader, and him; a supplier wetting himself for his comrades. Great...

This day could have gone better if they hadn't abandoned yesterday's haul because the chief smelled trouble, the coward... A day like this should have been spent indoors, with a bountiful meal in their bellies, and their bodies ravaging the corpse of the girl they had kidnapped a few days ago. Shame they had to leave her behind without a last taste.

At any rate, once this escaping business was done, they could find a defenseless cottage, and steal more substantial resources. Fat chickens, fresh fruits and milk, or perhaps even another little human to have their fun with. The gourd-filler were already salivating at this prospect, and that behaviour was rewarded with a hit from the back of a spear.

"Hik!" Squealed the goblin, the sneer set into its face shifting to anger as it twisted to stare up at the mangled features of its leader.

"Mak... Gremtcha grakothlok!" Growled his superior, reminding him to focus on his task and not on some wishful future.

The commander of their little tribe was dressed in fancier rags than the rest, and screamed louder too. While he wasn't an hobgoblin yet, he became the leader because he brought more food than the rest of them and had survived longer, too. The sturdy spear he had stolen from a dead Elf was also an excuse to kick his brothers around, but the younger goblin wouldn't dare mention that to his face.

Under the gaze of his elder, our little green thrall put another gourd under the water, trying to ignore how the wiser monster scoffed at his demerit. Moments later, the petty labor was done. Now ready to do something better, the youngest goblin observed his better closing in on a rock to check a thin piece of rope. Twice it was pulled on. The wave of the wire went deep into the woods as it reached the sentry they had sent in, just in case. Then all there was to do was wait for a response.

Strangely, the sentry didn't return the signal. That was not a good sign. The smart leader decisively whistled a call to arms. He heartlessly commented how the sentry was probably already dead.

That useless fool… Thought his smallest acolyte.

No dilly-dallying now, the leader gave the order to brace for whatever was after them, for it would be here soon. That was the last straw for our ambitious midget. No more obeying this leader for no reason. The gourd filler would flee the scene while he could and get by on his own. He turned his back on them and headed for another clearing. Problem was, he wasn't stealthy enough to act on his wishes. A cracked branch under his feet betrayed his intentions to the surroundings. Three pairs of eyes with scattered iris witnessed the warped back of the pitiful creature who would abandon them here.

An enraged older goblin took this treachery as a direct offense, one punishable by old-fashioned maiming. But before the pack-master could enact his Justice, something went over the group's heads. A flying object. Was it an arrow? No, too big and too slow... What was it? It reached the trunk of the stump and broke apart. Not an explosive, as was half-expected by the youngest goblin.

"Gih?" Said one of the guards, who certainly wasn't as bright or as aware as the others.

A noise responded to his plea. A horrible and intensifying buzz that sizzled their brains. Within seconds, all four survivors understood just how much trouble they were in. It was a nest that had been thrown. A wasps' nest. An occupied wasps" nest with a thousand tiny killers within. All at once they exited their shattered home and rushed towards the nearest organisms, ready to enact furious retaliation. The green-faced monsters were their pitiful targets.

"Gahrahaaa!" Screamed the leader. It was, obviously, a signal to retreat. While the two watchmen had foolishly drawn their weapons at first, they turned tail as soon as they realized they couldn't kill a living fog. Desperate to escape those undefeatable foes, they and their commanding brother jumped into the river. They fully immersed themselves to escape the buzzing swarm. Barely in time.

Waiting heads down among the small fishes and water-striders, they hoped the danger would pass. But in doing so, they forgot about who sent them that dreadful swarm. Realising just how horrible a position they were in, the wiser goblin pulled himself out of the waters, only to immediately scream from the pain to his backside. A spear had lodged itself into his flesh. His own spear. He recognized it as the rusty metal pierced his chest. With this last vision in mind, the older goblin died.

"Two..." declared a cavernous human voice above the waters. If anyone had heard it, any goblin would have soiled their rags from the shock. But the other goblins were too busy trying to hold their breath to notice what had occured. But they did notice the blood dissipating into their liquid haven. They should resurface, right now. And so they did, which was a mistake. The first didn't even have time to scream before his windpipe became crushed by a small shield. The other, more prepared, tried to slash its attacker. But the water impeded his movements. Cold steel met its neck and severed it clean. The river colorized itself as if twilight had come.

"Three..." groaned the voice. Following this, it headed for the first surfacer and broke his scrawny neck to make sure of the kill. After which it declared having killed "Four..." of the pack.

The fifth and younger green-skin, who had escaped in the opposite direction, had chosen poorly. The wasps had stung him enough to make it feel as if a sword had cleaved him in half. He had collapsed on a bush, and the wasps began harassing him from all sides. Convulsing in vain, it sung a desperate shriek for mercy.

"Nuraaahiik! Hiiik hik!" A short sword thrown into his skull put an end to the pain, and any other sensation. The flying death-dealers abandoned their fallen prey and reached for the sky. Seemingly satisfied from the absence of movements. "And five." concluded his killer, the last thing the goblin would ever hear.

"Hrrm…" Grumbled the victorious adventurer. Despite achieving his goal and eliminating the little group, Goblin Slayer was not satisfied. Using the wasps near a body of water had not been the most effective tactic, though it did grant him a tremendous advantage for eliminating the most dangerous elements. Other than that, the one victim that had the insect's wrath proved that goblins, provided they couldn't dive underwater, had no defense against them. He would remember that.

At any rate, the grim exterminator elected to clean his new weapons in the shallow water. He struggled to wipe the blood and fat from the blade and the spear, but it was a necessity.

Necessities. His soul had fused with the concept. To the uninformed, his actions seemed full of confidence, but they were truly born of necessity. If he was wrong, he would die. If he was right, he would earn the right to keep thinking for a little longer. Overconfidence was a weakness that too many adventurers had, and died young because of it. Some of the older adventurers would often say that luck, talent or fate had kept them alive. Fate and luck were things that Goblin Slayer would never rely on.

Speaking of which, he had been lucky that the swarm didn't attack him while he bled the submerged gobins. An oversight that could have cost him dearly. But he had survived and he had learned. He should bring something to repel them the next time he enters the woods, just in case another opportunity to disrupt the ranks presented itself. He remembered about something of the sort from his younger days, his innocent days. It was...

A noise came from behind him. Immediately, Goblin Slayer drew a dagger affixed to his boot and took a fighting stance. Was there a sixth goblin? No, his instinct and his experience screamed that it was something else. It stirred the bushes in front of him, but there was no weight behind this encroaching foe. A second sufficed to see he wouldn't be able to cut his way out of this new threat.

"Oh..." He said. The thing known as fate must have heard his thoughts, for the insectoid allies had returned to him, and just like his thirst for vengeance wasn't quenched yet, their anger had not dissipated just yet.

A certain building in a thriving Human city became very busy whenever mid-day approached. Varied combatants and mages cheered and discussed overtly about their plans for the afternoons. Some would rescue peddlers from bandits, collect precious minerals, help fend off the demons… There were many such so many heroic ways to help their neighbours in these troubled times. Sweet smells and laughters erupted left and right as lunch was served and cups were raised. This was the Guild of adventurers, a hub for the braves and a center for the needy masses.

As customers and pleaders came and went over the counter, the atmosphere shifted a little. One of the visitor came in, limping forward and hold his sides. carefully tapped his boots to clear off the mud before entering the premises. He was dirty to be sure, his armor smeared in dried mud,. The fur on his neck was still drenched from a swim in the river. and his armor was slightly cleaner than usual. Only one dared approached

"Goblin Slayer-san! Are you all right" shouted a young girl who had waited for him. She was used to him returning in sorry states.

She was the Priestess, a kind soul in white robes in service to the Earth Mother. Having failed to rise early enough, she had missed Goblin Slayer's agenda and had been waiting at the Guild's Hall for about an hour. The rest of the assembly glanced at the duo, judging silently, but continuing their noisy businesses. Goblin Slayer bowed slightly:

"Hello." He then sat in front of her. Exhaling longly. "Finally awake?"

The girl, taken aback by the lack of urgency in his voice, bowed repeatedly, ashamed: "Yes... I have no excuse for oversleeping."

"It is not a problem. Hrm... You needed the rest."

"Yes… Ah! But more importantly, are you hurt?" she asked again.

"Hng… We can say that." For some reason, the man's voice had sounded raspier than usual, and stranger too. There was never much emotion in Goblin Slayer's speech, but this time, there was a hint of shame in the back of his throat. What could have happened to him on such an easy quest? Perhaps she could offer a healing spell to apologize for her absence.

"Do you want me to..?"

"No, thank you. Spare your spells for later." Responded the warrior. Goblin Slayer proceeded to mix together ingredients on the table, using a plate and the back of a throwing knife as a makeshift mortar. Priestess observed in silence, getting curiouser by the seconds

"Umh... How did it go exactly?" she haphazardly asked.

"Poorly." he answered, as would be expected.

"R-really? What happened?" She politely insisted.

"The Goblins are dead, but the... weapon I used proved to be hazardous. I was careless... I approached too early and didn't escape it's radius unscathed."

"What did you use?" she wondered.

Pulling down the chainmail over his neck,the veteran revealed red swollen spots all over his skin. She understood at once. Wasps. The sting marks were bloated and showed a mixture of red and yellow, signs of empoisonnement.

"Oh Goddess!" she exclaimed with great concern.

"Yes..."

Then... If the metal rings of a chainmail weren't enough to save someone from the small stings of insects. No doubt the lightly protected rest of his body was similarly covered.

"I was careless..." interrupted the silver-ranked adventurer. "I never should have relied on a tool I didn't fully test. I took a potion as soon as the first one got me, and hid in a river." This explained the state of his equipment. "I also made a poultice to remove the swelling, however, I could use a hand in applying it where I cannot reach."

"A hand?" gulped the innocent girl. "You want me to apply it on your body?"

"Yes. I am not very flexible." admitted the direct explorer.

The maiden blushed from the thought of touching a man's muscles. But, if it was for his own good then... Yes. Of course it's to help him. But perhaps she could use a little time to prepare herself mentally. BUt the man spared no time securing a place for the two of them:

"Excuse me?" He asked the receptionist. "Can I borrow a room for a few minutes?"

"Of course." Answered a beautiful blond-haired girl behind the counter. Her smile told of her experience handling Goblin-Slayer's oddity. "Take the second room upstairs. I'm sure you'll need some... privacy."

She had followed their conversation, for some reason. The Priestess, accepting her fate, followed along to the upper floor. On her way she felt a cold shiver down her spine. Coming from the Guild's reception? No way. Just an effect from oversleeping.

-~o~-

"It smells better than I expected." said the young girl as she smelled the sticky substance in her hand.

"What did you expect?" answered the half naked man on the bed.

"Nothing..." she lied.

"I see..."

Goblin Slayer was lying down on his belly, revealing the red marks all over his left flank. The white poultice he had created on the way back, from various herbs and mushrooms, was resting in a bowl next to the young healer. The contents were malleable and she had taken a good portion of it as instructed. Now came the critical part, applying it.

Hesitantly, she placed her coated hand on Goblin-Slayer's afflicted biceps. Breath in, breath out. She told herself. Who was the patient here exactly? She pumped herself once again and started smearing the product over the bulbous spots of the tired warrior. His slim figure was very scarred and very pale for his age, yet his calm demeanor made the lady at ease. In order to repel any impure thoughts, she decided to start a conversation:

"So... You made this yourself?"

"Hmm?"

"The poultice."

"Yes." nodded the victim.

The Priestess sighed:

"You are so versed. Strategy, traps, poisons... You even invented a remedy for wasps stings."

"I didn't invent it." replied the Goblin Slayer.

"Eh?"

"My mother did. Long ago." he confessed.

There was a long silence as the young girl applied the cold paste over the adventurer's body. She didn't know if inquiring further would be acceptable. Thankfully, she needn't ask.

"I don't remember her face well, but I remembered the ingredients perfectly. She taught it to me only once, when I got stung on my foot while playing adventurer."

Imagining a tiny version of the ruthless exterminator, running in the woods with a wooden sword, made the cleric giggle.

"It is good that the idea stuck." she kindly said.

"Is it?" sighed the hunter. "To remember things instead of the people who shared them?"

The Priestess simply smiled and used a soft voice:

"You have something of her to pass on. Not just the poultice. You remember her action. An act of kindness from someone you loved. It can only be good." that was the truth. She knew it.

"I see..."

She had finished treating the affected areas on the side and back. She now had to focus on the front. The young fighter pulled himself up and faced her. His grey hair and muscular torso were fully visible now. A nice face on a a strong body... All belonging to a broken man. The Priestess hoped that one day, she might fully heal him. Not with a spell, but something more powerful. She completed her task earlier than expected. Goblin Slayer stretched his body to restore the flow of blood. The irritation had stopped and the swelling should dissipate after a while.

" That should do." he told his benefactor. "I am grateful."

"Me too! I mean... Every time I talk with you, I feel motivated to learn more about the world. Ahah... Especially learning more... about you."

"Is that so? Then I'll try and remember more about my family from now on." He put on his helmet and finished fastening the rest of his equipment. "You need to be in good spirit, if you want to fight goblins."

"Of course sir!"

The day was still young, and there were more monsters to kill. After this invigorating massage, Goblin Slayer was ready for more. And the Priestess was free. There had been reports of a small group south west of here, that would be their focus. He showed her the guild contract he had kept in his bag. The content didn't surprise her in the least.

"I will take lunch first. Are you coming?" he asked.

"Yes!"

Huge thanks to ErrorPleaseReload for helping rework this rushed chapter.