"And as the snow melts, as the leaves grow, as the flowers start to bloom; remember the story of Archer Krim, who averted the Duchess' doom."
She played the chords a final time, her left hand popping the spring loaded sticks that added percussion to the stringed instrument, and she hummed along to end the song.
"Another fine tune, Eluthera," one of the merchants called to her, "I will miss your music once you've left the caravan. Best keep it quiet for a while, though. We're entering a 'less than hospitable' stretch of road."
"Not hospitable," Eluthera asked with a concerned look on her young, round face.
"This road ahead is a mid-point between three of the city-states," the elder replied, "The only patrols come from small outposts, so there are raiders that hide out in the region."
Six wagons rumbled noisily down the old dirt road through the forest, slow enough for the musician to walk along. It was autumn and the trees were ablaze in color from the normal greens to the reds, oranges, and yellows of fall, to the browns of the dry, dead leaves that had yet to fall from their lofty perches. The air was cool but not cold and the wafting breeze invigorated and refreshed her as it blew through her red-orange hair. Eluthera looked human from a distance, but there were differences about her that suggested something else. Her round face and slightly curly red hair that fell to her shoulders, but her wide eyes were too green, not like the eyes of a human but more like rich grass or moss. She was pretty, a little shorter than an average woman and built thickly, not fat but solid and strong. Her skin, a creamy light brownish color, was soft enough but had just a little roughness, like hands accustomed to working but all over her frame. And she smelled. Not bad, mind you, in fact her scent sometimes attracted attention to her. When she was happy or content, the scent of berries floated from her in all directions. Then there was her chosen garb, as well: Strange garments seemingly made up of large green and brown leaves wrapped her torso, shoulders, and thighs, with additional gloves, boots, and skullcap made of the same material. It was as tough as any treated animal skin and she was confident in the protection the clothing gave. What could not be mistaken was the business of the longsword she carried on her always, and the bow and quiver attached to her backpack. The members of the caravan had not the courage to ask her just what kind of being she was for fear of angering her, though she really would never attack her hosts. She had joined the caravan about a week ago. They appreciated a swordarm that they weren't paying for, and she enjoyed the company.
The caravan traveled a large loop, rarely actually going to any of the six city-states of Valdemar, but they hit many, many small and medium sized villages and isolated outposts between them, buying local wares, carting them to the next place, and selling the stock. With six wagons full of material, they rarely found a town that didn't need something they carried. Of course, it did make them a target, as well.
The attackers came in a wave, bursting from the line of trees only 100 feet from the road. Sickly, small goblins riding gruesome canines sprinted towards the wagons while their larger brethren, hobgoblins, stepped from cover with crossbows raised to fire. Instantly the wagon drivers urged the oxen that pulled the transports to turn and form a circle. Each wagon had a swordsman as a rider, and each merchant grabbed his own bow or crossbow. Eluthera thought about it for just a second and determined that her sword wouldn't mean much here. Her other talents could prove quite useful. The hobgoblins stood too far away, but the goblins rode right into her range, and she smiled a wicked smile. For her, this would be fun.
Eluthera ran to a near cart and leapt up onto the merchandise loaded on it, hunkering down behind a large crate for some cover. The merchant fired their first volley but struck only one of the goblin's dogs. The caravan members ducked as a rain of crossbow bolts fell amongst them, and then the goblins were there at the wagons, preparing to jump aboard.
Eluthera smiled again while staring right at one of the canine mounts and whispered spirit words. The dog in question stopped suddenly, almost throwing its rider to the ground, and stared back at her. Its eyes began to glow a greenish color.
"Protect," she shouted, then repeated the word in goblinoid to be sure. The dog snarled and then grabbed the leg of a now dismounted humanoid with its mouth, the nasty creature howling as the dog bit down hard. Eluthera found another target and forced it to do her bidding. 'Poor creatures,' she thought, 'The goblins likely beat them into submission to train them. They have little willpower to fight me."
She heard the twang of the crossbows and barely ducked before bolts slammed into the side of the carts. One of the swordsmen fell backward onto the ground, a bolt sunk into his chest. The maiden rose and saw another welcome site; the goblins carried wood hafted axes for weapons. Again she whispered while pretending to grab one of the weapons though she was not close enough to reach. She suddenly opened both hands wide and swung them away from each other, and the targeted goblin's axe shaft exploded! Wooden shards shot into that goblin and into three others standing or running too close to the explosion! Two of them simply fell dying, while the others stumbled wounded but still continuing their attack. She noted that several other goblins dispatched the two dominated canines. Two of the humanoids came at her, jumping up onto the wagon and raising their weapons.
Her mind worked quickly, and she pointed to one monster's weapon while whispering a third set of words, then she mimed stabbing herself in the gut. The beasts attacked and she drew her sword finally, blocking one swipe and kicking the small monster off the wagon. The second goblin thrust his spear towards Eluthera's unguarded side, but the weapon literally twisted in the humanoid's grip, turning and stabbing into the attacker's own shoulder and sinking deep! It squealed, its weapon arm dangling uselessly, and Eluthera finished it with a downward slice into the creature's neck. The foul stench of goblin blood stung her nostrils, but she shook herself and looked for her next play.
Then a crossbow bolt slammed into her shoulder and another into her side, and she toppled off the wagon and onto the damp grass.
She really didn't feel much pain, but parts of her wouldn't respond to her urgent attempts to move. She looked around the space within the wagon circle and saw several of the others tending to their wounds. She heard the gruff voice of a goblin bark an order to kill, and then two of the canines trotted under a wagon and into the circle snarling.
'Didn't think it would end like this,' she mused, 'But then, who would imagine this?' She forced herself into a sitting position, hoping she could move her hands well enough to cast more magic even as one of the dogs charged toward her.
Something else hit her though, also small and furry but wearing some kind of skirt and shoulder belt. It pushed her down while striking with a bladed sickle, killing the dog with one shot. "Stay down," it squeaked in a high pitched voice, "Help comes!" With a swift, precise movement, the newcomer who appeared to be a rat or a squirrel standing on two feet raised a rod into the air, and a red, glowing orb shot into the sky trailing a string of smoke. Above the noise of the fighting, Eluthera heard a tiny little spirit voice alert her of approaching horses and riders. The rodent-person grunted a little chattering growl and raised her sickle blade high as Eluthera faded into unconsciousness.