Gerald and company rode through the tall summer grass. It wasn't the shortest route to town, but Armondo liked the cover.

Smoke drifted upwards in the distance. At first Gerald thought that the goblins had already attacked Daggerhall, but after a few seconds of confusion, he realized it was from the Green's farmstead on the outskirts of town. Goblins, mounted and dismounted, seemed merrily dancing around the burning buildings, causing more fires and killing any livestock too slow to escape them. Further back in the distance, Gerald saw several farms had already succumbed to a similar fate.

"They're not attacking yet," said Armondo as he read Gerald's expression. "They're just having their fun, terrorizing the locals before the big attack."

Gerald grew sick to his stomach. "Having their fun? Is this a game to them?"

"Yup," said Ceto.

"Kobolds fight for survival, Orcs fight for territory, Giants fight for food, and Goblins fight for fun," sighed Tig. "It's not too different from the so called 'good' races, except we put on airs of how noble and honorable our wars are in comparison to theirs."

"But fun? They just burned the Green's farmstead. They've lived there for over a hundred years. Gone…just like that, all for a bit of fun."

"Well of the most common humanoid races, goblins are the dumbest, and I don't mean that in a racist kind of way. They might have large heads, but most of their skulls are full of bone, leaving little space for their brains to develop properly. Also, those little creeps have a wide malicious streak in them too. They don't build their communities, they simply break and steal from others, or just move in to some ruin. And due to their small size, not often to their advantage."

"Eh?"

"One sec," said Armondo as he turned to Tig. "Is it safe?"

Tig opened her box, and Gerald noticed that the dragonstone seemed inert for a change. She poked it a few times just to make sure, but it did nothing except give off a dull unimpressive sheen. "Safe enough."

"Watch this. I'll show you how dumb they are," said Armondo as the group neared the burning farmstead. The squat half orc drew his great bow, an impressive feat since he was still mounted. After a few seconds of aiming, he let loose his shaft. Gerald try to follow the arrow but it was obscured by the distance and smoke. He wasn't sure if it hit or not, but one of the goblins suddenly dropped to the group mid prance.

Gerald made a fist pump as the goblins screamed in fury. They then scanned around and about a dozen of them seemed to point directly at him. The goblins mounted their wargs which then release a great howl, before charging straight towards him.

"They aren't pointing at me are they? I mean they must be going after Armondo right," said Gerald as the distance between them began to close. He scanned to his side, and saw that his companions were gone, and he was riding in the field by himself.

"Guys, guys?" said Gerald. He then noticed their mounts were sitting under cover of the tall grass. Gerald attempted to guide his mount to do the same, but his control over his mount was still considered poor.

"Their eye sight isn't so good in the day light, but I bet they can spot a silver knight on a horse. I would ride to town if I were you, or to the forest,"said Armondo. "Just ride."

Gerald wasn't sure where he was pointed at, but did as he was told. He spurred his mount on wards, at first riding straight towards the goblin and then to the right, heading straight for the town. Gerald felt similar to the chase he had endured earlier in the forest, but there were not obstacles to dodge here, only a straight foot race between warg and horse.

He could feel the goblins' closing in, their tiny mouths screaming and their wargs baying, but just as quickly as it began, the ruckus behind him grew distant.

Gerald glanced back, and saw that the goblins had indeed broken off the chase. Four of them were lying on the ground, pierced by arrows. Gerald wasn't sure what happened, but he assumed that Armondo must have been shooting them before they finally figured it out and spotted him. As they closed, the half orc scout dropped another one before the goblins and their red eyed wolves fell on the half orc archer. Instead of ripping him apart though, Ceto broke his cover. The big half orc smashed one warg in the side, sending wolf and goblin tumbling violently on the ground. He then swatted another warg square in the head, sending the creature careening to the ground as his goblin was tossed into the air. An arrow impaled the goblin before it landed, but it wasn't needed. The goblins had already lost over half their numbers, and were fleeing in panic. Ceto managed to strike one of the wargs in the leg as it withdrew, and Armondo finished both it and its rider before they limped away.

"See we can have fun too," smiled Armondo as he laughed at their retreating enemy. "That will keep them from honest for a while. They'll think twice about burning any more farmsteads unless they come en masse. "

Gerald bowed towards the half orc scout in thanks, he then turned to Tig. " Why didn't you wipe them out with one of your bombs? They were bunched close enough, weren't they?"

Tig shrugged. "I could blow up a half dozen goblins now. They can pick up my tactic and either attack in echelons or send in a skirmish line first. Or I can save my tricks, and get them when they least expect it."

Gerald wasn't a tactician but that sounded good enough for him. "So what were you doing with the dragonstone before Armondo attacked."

"Checking for dragons of course. We weren't going to commit to a battle with a dragon nearby. We don't want to get caught like we did in the woods. Getting waves of goblins thrown at us, till we used too much of our resources to face the dragon. "

Gerald wanted to point out that they had saved him in the woods, but then he realized what Armondo was saying and he remained silent. No need to suggest that he was the reason that they fled form the dragon there.

After another thirty minutes the group had reached the outskirts of town. Gerald noticed no one was about, and hoped that they either fled or retreated into the motte and bailey in the center of the town. There were no signs of battle, but Gerald hoped that they weren't ambushed in the night and dragged away by the goblin army unawares.

"Is something bothering you?" asked Armondo as he glanced up and down the buildings.

"Yes and no. Do you think the townsfolk, were, you know, taken away?"

"Doubtful. I think Tessa and the Prince managed to warn them," shrugged the half orc. While Armondo was confident that Tess had warned the town after she rescued the Prince from the tower, Gerald wasn't so sure. The town was on the borderlands, the opposite direction of Cloverworth the only place with a proper garrison. If Tessa and the Prince warned the town, they would risk being cut off from rescue since they had no mounts. Given what Tessa had told him, he doubt they could 'summon' horses like Mina could. Still, the big army and all the burning of the countryside probably alerted the townsfolk anyways. Maybe they did manage to save themselves, though that probably meant the Greens and the other farmers outside of town probably did not make it out as they inadvertently warned the town.

"One more thing," asked Gerald. "Tig told Mina that you guys like to fight, and then told me that the goblins fight for fun…."

Armondo shrugged. "I could say that was simple bravado on our Captain's part, or just a poorly worded analogy, but I suppose that it's pretty close to the same thing. I guess that orc blood in us makes us a tad bit blood thirsty. Gnome blood is pretty vicious too, remember the four hundred year they had with Grom? I think she wanted to say that we like to fight dragons. For us however it isn't purely fun it's a challenge, a test of our skills."

"Eh? A test? Couldn't you test yourself on something simpler. Like a giant or a demon, or a giant demon or something?"

"Heh. Well giants individually are not as dangerous as dragons, but collectively they are. Still, all things considered they are just big lumbering humans in terms of combat difficulty. As for demons, well despite their 'evil' they're just armored mages that like to bite people's faces off. Dragons on the other hand, well at least those bigger than ten feet, are like a force of nature. Fighting one isn't like a fighting a big fire breathing lizard, it's like standing up against a volcano, or braving an avalanche, or resisting a hurricane. It's certainly doable, but it's not easy. "

"So you guys are danger junkies?"

Armondo considered his statement and then nodded. "Basically yes, but the way you put it is so crass. Anyways, I have a few questions for you before we reach the center of the town."

"Go ahead. I'll try to answer them to the best of my ability."

"Okay. Which buildings here are made of stone, and which have the biggest cellars and basements."

Gerald wasn't expecting that line of questioning, but did his best to answer. "The Greenmaiden Tavern, as well as the Temple of Koryis are made of stone, the rest of the buildings are wood and thatch. I believe the general store, and the Tavern, have pretty big basements. I don't think the Temple does yet, though there were talks about building catacombs below it, but the townsfolk didn't go for that. Something about keeping it the graveyard outside of a town surrounded by an iron fence incase of a zombie invasion."

"Do any of the basements connect? Or are near each other."

"I don't think any of them connect, but the Inn is close to the store house. There's at least a brick wall between them though, and maybe five feet of stone," said Gerald recalling the time he passed out in the Inn's cellar after a particularly rowdy Moon festival.

"Which building has the highest accessible window?"

"Umm...the Inn. No, the church. Actually I'm not sure, I've never measured."

"Thank you, that should be all," said Armondo just as they finally reached the motte and bailey in the middle of town.

While Daggerhall was not the most defensible town on the borderlands, given its wide open farmlands and its proximity to relatively untamed forests and hills, King Gustav had the foresight to order a motte and bailey to be built roughly thirty years ago, long before he gained the reputation as the 'Mad King'.

It was a large, though unimpressive design. A large stone administrative building on a steep hill, with several warehouses and barracks below it. Surrounding the whole area was a twenty foot wooden wall, and surrounding the wall was a twenty foot ditch filled with water and sharpen stakes. Though it had stood for almost thirty years, it had proven mainly untested throughout that time. It had stopped Gerald's ogre that might have had one or two heads in the past, as well as a brief but doomed attack by bandits ten years ago, but it had never withstood the fury of a full strength siege.

Also, given that it was aesthetically ugly, it was seldom occupied. While it did have an administrative building, the mayor of Daggerhall would often conduct his business elsewhere. It even had a church as well, but few attended services there. The most common visitors it had was the local ranchers that led their cattle to the bailey to water their livestock before they sold them at the auction. Not to say it was left in disuse. Gustav, even when he had descended into his 'Mad' era routinely sent craftsmen there to maintain it once a year.

As Gerald and his companions reached the main drawbridge of the bailey. A shrill voice shouted a challenge. "Halt! Be ye goblin or friend?"

"Raise the bridge Inga its me! Gerald!"

"Eh? What's with the shiny armour? Gerald was too poor to afford clothes let alone armour. Did ye steal it?" asked the short fat woman. While most of her was safely behind the wooden parapets guarding the drawbridge, Gerald could see she was wearing some sort of mail, and what looked like a cooking pot on her head.

Gerald considered saying that he was knocked out cold and some beautiful woman dressed him up in it, but he doubt Inga would believe him. "I found it in the old tower," he lied. It's full of monsters and goblins and a dragon."

Inga considered his statement, but did not lower the drawbridge.

"By the way, I'm glad you all made it to the motte in time. I was hoping you wouldn't be caught by surprise."

"Luckily we were warned," grunted Inga.

"Oh, let him in," said Sanngror's distinct voice out of sight. "It's clearly Gerald. His girly friend paid his tab yesterday. So he's in good standing with me. "

Gerald frowned. There were so many inconsistencies in Sanngror's statement he wanted to correct but he did not want to antagonize his only ally on the other side of the wall. His prudence paid off as the drawbridge was lowered for him. The device started slow, but after half way, it must have skipped a gear or something as it came crashing down.

Gerald breathed a sigh of relief as he walked in.

"Halt…no orcs! I don't care if they're with you. They might be working with them goblins," said Inga.

"What? They just killed over a half dozen of them burning the farmer Green's farmstead. They're the best fighters I know."

"No deal. They can stay outside."

"It's okay Gerald," said Armondo. "We're use to this in the small towns. In fact, I'm surprised they haven't shot us," chuckled the half orc.

"We prefer someplace more open to fight anyways. Maybe the Inn, as long as there's an escape route in the basement," said Tig as she consulted with Armondo. "That little fort of theirs is just a big coffin when fighting a dragon."

Gerald considered arguing for the gnome to be let in, but it didn't seem like she wanted to go. Besides, Ceto wasn't allowed, and she seemed to be attached to him in more ways than her wicker basket on his back.

"Well, okay. Best of luck to you three. I would join you, but I'm not much of a fighter, so I'll try to put out fires or build barricades or something when the goblins attack."

"Sing," suggested Ceto. "Singing good."

"Err…okay. I'll throw in a ditty as well," said Gerald. He thanked the three companions and wished them lucky before he crossed the drawbridge.

As he reached the other side, he saw Inga and Sanngror in their loose fitting mail and matching pot helmets. Next to them was a very worried looking Rolf. The young girl friend stealing man marched over to Gerald nervously, eyeing his new armour up and down. "Umm…you are wanted at the main hall…"

"Eh? Already? By whom?"

"Lady Tessa just gave me instructions to escort you there."

Gerald was shocked. Lady Tessa? Here? "Are you sure?"

"Aye, she asked for you by name."