Chapter-2

Sckàll felt absolutely awful. His stomach felt like hell, his chest was stinging to oblivion and his head felt like a mace had been taken to it. He also noticed that he was sat up against something, with his most likely guess being a tree. But, the last thing he remembered was being stuck in the river, drowning.

Confused, Sckàll opened his eyes. Thankfully, the blurriness appeared to have worn off now, but his eyes were still sore. He looked around and to his surprise, he was on dry land, sat up against a tree not too far away from the river he was drowning in. It was still night, though the moon's placement and the slightly light blue tone of the sky implied that day was not far off.

For a second, he thought he had died and for one reason or another, had been denied entrance into the afterlife and forced to roam the lands as a ghost. But, he didn't feel dead. If he was, he sure as all the hells would not be feeling as bad as he was now.

…

Perched on the highest branch of the tree he had sat the Hobgoblin against, after pulling him out of the river an hour ago, Eglum watched the larger Goblinoid.

He was big, as most Hobgoblins were. At least six foot seven, probably well over two-hundred and forty pounds and built like a panther. It was an intimidating sight, and Eglum was a Goblin who was not intimidated easily.

He had woken up now, and Eglum was debating in his mind whether to show himself.

Hobgoblin opinions on Goblins tended to be rather mixed, some saw them as Kindred spirits, while others saw his kind as just a weaker Goblinoid, little more than an inferior nuisance not worth their time. An injured one like this, would no doubt be in a bad mood and Eglum doubted he'd be able to take him on if he decided to attack him.

Eglum had however been hearing rumours of Hobgoblin and Goblin tribes forming alliances and coalitions to combat the invading Fish People, so there was a chance that this Hobgoblin could be from one of those tribes.

In fact he remembered, his tribe had made contact with a friendly Hobgoblin tribe once, when he was a very young Suckling. Because of it, he and the rest of his tribe's sucklings had been taught the "Common Goblic", which was a common tongue spoke independently of a tribe's native tongue, for easier communication between different tribes and Goblinoid races.

Eglum would have to hope a lot of things from this particular Hobgoblin, because in truth he really needed his help.

Eglum was the only survivor of a raiding party, that was planning an attack on a Kuo-Toa outpost. However, the sea-demons had somehow caught wind of it and his raiding band was ambushed before they even got close to the outpost. It was a slaughter, the Kuo-Toa charged from almost every direction and the only reason Eglum had managed to survive was because he was knocked out. His comrades however were overwhelmed and butchered, and once he'd woken up, he was covered in their blood. To say it was horrifying would be an understatement.

That was two days ago now, and he had not been able to sleep at all.

He was alone, and being a lone Goblin out in the wilderness at a time like this would very likely not end well for him. He was new to this area, so he didn't know his way around at all, which meant he had no chance of getting back to his tribe without any help.

Having this big and much more powerful Hobgoblin with him would no doubt better his chances at survival. But in truth, Eglum had felt another reason for saving him from the river. But he could not quite put his finger on it.

Was it guilt over not being able to help his comrades, during the Kuo-Toa attack and by saving this fellow Goblinoid from certain dead, he would redeem himself? Was the extreme loneliness he felt being lost here becoming so unbearable that he was reaching out for any kind of companionship? Was it simply the right thing to do, as Bargrivyek the Peacekeeper, who preached peace and cooperation between the Goblinoid races, encouraged? Likely, it was a combination of the three.

Sitting quietly, Eglum continued to debate with his mind.

…

Groaning and holding his head, Sckàll attempted to move and immediatedly regretted it. He lurched forward on his hands and knees and vomited out a disgusting mixture of what he had eaten yesterday and the water he had taken in, while he was drowning.

The smell was absolutely revolting, and what followed after was another stream of vomit followed by two more of bile, until he was practically emptied of his stomach contents. Retching a few more times, he collapsed onto his side.

His stomach was on fire, his headache was even worse and a disgusting taste had now engulfed his mouth. Gods, he felt like absolute hell at this moment and was honestly starting to wish that the river really had taken him.

He had no idea were he was, or if there were any other clans nearby. The state he was in right now, meant that there was no way in hell he could move around properly. He had none of his weapons, besides a small dagger. If a predator, or even worse, the Kuo-Toa came upon him like this, he was done for.

Just then, he heard a loud thud come from somewhere in front of him.

Ignoring the pain as primal instinct kicked in, Sckàll instantly went for his dagger and got into a fighting crouch.

It was a Goblin, who now currently had his hand around his own blade, ready to draw if anything were to happen. Though to Sckàll's surprise, the smaller Goblinoid was pretty calm.

Sckàll relaxed a little bit, if not because he could handle a Goblin easy, it was because his tribe was relatively on good terms with the ones in their area. Though, he'd never seen this particular one before.

He seemed to be of the Bogill type of Goblin, because of his relatively tall height (for a Goblin) of about five feet and sage-green skin. Sckàll's tribe had made contact with a Bogill tribe, but he wasn't sure if this individual was from it. He looked rather young too, Sckàll guessed he was near his own age.

He was surprised when the Goblin gave a very quiet, if hesitant "H-Hello?".

The Goblin had said it in perfectly clear Goblic, so he must have been from the tribe Sckàll's had made contact with.

Sckàll relaxed a bit, but still did not put his blade away. The Goblin also noticeably became less tense, but still remained slightly defensive.

So, this Goblin must have pulled him out of the river, but how? and perhaps more importantly why? Sure, it could just be chalked up to species loyalty, as some Goblins and Hobs were like that, but why would he risk his life to try and rescue a Hobgoblin he'd never met that could very likely be dead, from a rushing river?

Sighing, Sckàll sat down carefully, as to not rile up his stomach again, as the adrenaline had subsided and he was now feeling awful. The Goblin, did the same, albiet a lot more cautiously. Sckàll still kept his blade out just to be careful though.

Sckàll rubbed his head, noticing that his long, scraggly hair was still slightly wet. He'd have to get dry soon, as he didn't want his armour to rust.

He turned his greenish-yellow eyes to the Goblin sat opposite him. He looking at the ground, clearly as deep in thought as Sckàll was.

"So…" Sckàll suddenly said, causing the smaller Goblinoid to jump, much to Sckàll's slight amusement, though he did not show it, "Why did you save me?"

…

"Um…" Was the only word that Eglum could let out, and he mentally scolded himself for it. Sighing, he figured the best thing to do was tell him the truth.

"Well… you're a fellow Goblin-kin like me. I could see you thrashing around in the water, and I… I'd just feel like a right piece of shit if I didn't do anything. I mean… Bargrivyek the Peacekeeper always encourages peace, cooperation and alliances between us Goblins, and I… follow his principles very fucking closely."

…

Sckàll had heard of Bargrivyek, though he was a deity that was seldom worshipped by Hobgoblins. Their patron deity was Nomog-Geaya, The God of War and Authority.

Sckàll couldn't be too sure however, if the goblin was being as truthful as he claimed. They could be rather devious at the end of the day, and many of them were not exactly as honourable, as Hobgoblins were.

"Is that really all?" Sckàll said, his eyes slightly narrowing.

…

Crap, he was onto him.

Eglum sighed, with his head down and his ears slightly drooping.

"Well, I'm on my own out here. Me and my warband were going to attack a Sea-Demon outpost but somehow, the bastards caught wind of it, and fucking ambushed us." Eglum went quiet as the memory of waking up, drenched in the blood of his comrades and seeing their bodies torn to ribbons, began to flood his mind.

"I-I… I was the only survivor." He said, as he could just not describe those events again.

…

Sckàll noticed the Goblin's sudden change in demeanour. The sombre expression, the lowered ears and the sudden stuttering. It made him confused, and somewhat uncomfortable. Hobgoblins were always expected to keep their emotions in check when in the presence of others, as it could very easily lead to being seen as a sign of weakness. Emotions were always expected to be reserved for family members and even then, only when it was necessary.

Still though, Sckàll felt something. He did not know this Goblin, and quite frankly, did not trust his intentions much as well. But, seeing him in such as state… did elicit something, something that made him feel… sad?

Getting confused, Sckàll shook it off.

The Goblin was still staring at the ground, seemingly conflicted in thought.

"Hey…" Said Sckàll and the Goblin instantly perked up to look at him.

"I'm going to get some sleep. I feel horrible, and my stomach feels like its going to erupt if a spend anymore time upright."

Carefully, Sckàll laid down on his back and looked at the Goblin, who just looked back silently.

"We'll continue this conversation in the morning." He said before glaring, "Don't you dare try anything. I wake up and that knife, is anywhere near me… I'll tear you're head off."

"Uh… ok." Said the Goblin nervously, "Uh… don't worry. I won't try anything… Remember, I do believe in Bargrivyek's philosophy." The Goblin said with a slight, though nervous smile.

Sckàll closed his eyes. But a thought came to him, even though he didn't trust the Goblin, so far he'd proven himself… legitimate in his words and at the end of the day, he did save Sckàll, so he did deserve some thanks for that.

"Well you did save me from the river, and for that you have my thanks." Said Sckàll, before shutting his mind off.

"Well… you're welcome." Replied Eglum.

…

He'd messed this up big time, he knew it. Why did he have to get so emotional over his warband's demise? Why couldn't he just tell him about his situation and why he wanted to team up?

Well, he was asleep now and Eglum knew better than to try and wake him up to better explain himself. He'd have to wait until morning. Still though, the Hobgoblin was clearly interested, so there was that.

Eglum laid down on his back and decided to think up how to explain himself to the Hobgoblin. He had at least until morning to cook up something good, because he had no intentions of sleeping. Not with those awful images still fresh in his mind.

Author's Note: Here a bit of background of my world (specifically Brethon Island). I based it on Britain, and I have made DND races that originate in British folklore and pop-culture (Goblins, Hobgoblins, Pixies, Hin/Halflings which are pretty much Hobbits, and several others I'll be adding on later) the island's native inhabitants.

Brethon is currently set in its equivalent of the very early Bronze Age, which means all its native races are tribal. The Hobgoblins for instance, are not the militaristic warmongers yet, but their honour-based, militaristic-culture is definitely beginning grow, especially with the Kuo-Toa invasion.

I'll add some more background in the coming chapters.

Thanks for reading.