CHAPTER SEVEN
This time I left the camp with a full stomach and a spring in my step. Sonja had surprised us all by cooking this morning. She'd fried the last of the potatoes with a generous helping of salt. We had all, excluding Philip, commiserated over the lack of an oil to cook with, but the result had been a delicious change of pace.
Today I had a much clearer goal. It was time to venture deep into enemy territory. We had already stripped the explored territory of available food, and I doubted I would be able to find any other edible remnants in the sorting piles. That left inside the goblin camp itself. If they were camping inside, they had to have enough food to support their numbers. It was about time I went on the offensive properly.
Besides, I'd already explored the northern passage and had no intention of meeting Ruben again unless absolutely necessary. The crazed man worried me more than the goblins.
My journey back to the storage room from yesterday was quick and uneventful. I was becoming far more familiar with the layout of the dungeon, no longer needing to check my map at each crossroads. The halls were empty again. The constant fighting over the last few days must have made an impression, as I didn't see a single patrol. Had I, with the help of Ruben's trap and murderous nature, pushed them back to their own territory?
And what lay beyond? I had to know, even if it meant fighting the entire goblin camp single-handed.
I finished my preparations near the end of the long eastern passage to the goblins' territory. [Shield] and [Mage Armor] coated me in magic and I stretched my arms out over my head, staff held high. I felt confident, strong, and ready for action.
Here we go.
I stepped out around the corner with a firebolt ready to throw. A good thing, too, as they had bolstered the sentry point. Now, rather than a single inattentive guard, there was a trio of archers armed with bows, all drawn and aimed right at my chest.
"Oh, shit!"
I darted back around the corner as they fired and felt one arrow slide across my shield as the magic deflected it away from me. They were ready for me this time. Interesting.
The ensuing fight took longer than I liked. My magic protected me from individual shots, but I suspected that too many in quick succession would overwhelm my defenses, allowing one to slip through and injure me. To make matters worse, the goblins were quick to take cover after releasing an arrow, making it difficult to land a shot with my comparatively slow magic projectiles.
A lucky [Firebolt] caught a goblin in the bow arm, and I used his moment of distress to finish him with a [Magic Missile]. I was more confident in my ability to deflect the firepower of only two goblins, and I broke cover, rushing to close the distance before the archers could respond. I was partially successful.
[Goblin Killed. Exp gained.]
I leaped clear of the barricade with a [Drain Touch] at the ready. The green magic latched on to the unfortunate goblin, consuming his energy and leaving him a desiccated husk. His companion abandoned his bow and drew its short sword, but it was no use. I deflected his feeble swipe with my staff and placed the glowing tip against its throat, casting [Drain Life]. It struggled for a moment, then went limp.
[Goblin Killed. Exp gained.]
[Goblin Killed. Exp gained.]
The room around hadn't changed since yesterday. My [Investigate] and [Arcane Sight] skills remained silent, so I turned my attention to the west. A pair of totems marked the archway, propped up by a cairn of rubble and decorated with skulls and bones. The goblins had decorated the hall to the level of my chest with crude cave paintings in what I assumed to be dried blood, mostly depicting goblins and men fighting. I walked slowly, studying the images carefully.
Those aren't humans…
I knelt down to get a closer look. The human figures were far too thin, and some were missing limbs and even heads. Some of the more detailed drawings showed the human figures dying, then rising to fight again, and killing goblins, repeating the process. A figure, much taller than the other human ones, seemed to control them with a glowing green book.
Could the goblins remember the author of the tome I now carried? It would certainly explain why Wulthark had been so adamant about getting his hands on it. How long had the creatures been living in this darkness, killing whoever woke up here? How much did I really know about them, apart from their propensity for violence?
I stood and readied myself for more combat. Maybe it was time to have another chat with Wulthark.
The painted hall was much longer than I had expected, explaining why it had taken so long for reinforcements to arrive after they raised the alarm the day before. It turned south, then east, then south again as it wound its way ever onward. I heard chattering goblin voices and covered the head of my staff with a piece of cloth to dim the [Light] spell. It wouldn't do much, but with any luck, it would allow me to get closer without detection.
The hall ended at a tall set of double doors, far too tall and finely crafted for it to be of goblin make. Had they not been the first to inhabit this place? The doors were closed, and I could hear faint voices inside. I closed my eyes and focused on my [Investigate] skill, pleased when I could make out the voices.
"What does the chief think he's doing, letting that human do as he pleases? Damn thing came right up to our camp yesterday. Killed the guard and stole that ring I found before I could even claim it."
"Last I heard, he's been cooped up inside that big room of his. Rest of us are stuck out here in tents, sharing one room while he has a big one all to himself. I've heard he has a nice, soft bed in there, too."
The voices were strange compared to the goblins I had seen before. They were deeper, and their use of language was more sophisticated than the others. Hobgoblins, like Wulthark himself, perhaps?
"I was fine with all that. I wouldn't want that magic of his close to me while I'm sleeping. But as the chief, it's supposed to be his job to deal with any powerful enemies that come along. He hasn't even tried. Maybe…"
The voice got softer here, but still audible.
"I think he's afraid." There was a horrified gasp, followed by hushed whispers.
"Careful who you say that around. You didn't see what happened to Nargri when she said the same thing. Only she was stupid enough to say it to his face. I've never seen anything explode that like before, and I don't never want to again. You keep that to yourself, or at least away from me."
"I'm just saying. Why else would he be cooped up, hiding in his room if not avoiding that human? Hell, he even brought us hobs off of patrol. 'To give the others practice,' he said. I think it's just to serve as his last line of defense if that human gets inside."
"I'm not talking about this," the first voice said with a tinge of fear. "You're going to get us both killed. Maybe you should worry less about the chief and the human, and more about watching the slaves. If any more escape, you'll be the next one to explode."
Slaves?
Were there more humans here, captured by the goblins? Neither Teija nor Sonja had said anything of the like to me. Helmfrid's lost expression and the wild gleam of Ruben's eyes came to mind. It would explain his hatred for them. And his insistence that the goblins would eat them, given the chance.
Well shit.
[Rescue the goblin slaves.]
If they were holding other humans captive, I couldn't just ignore it. But how many were there? Who were they? Would Sonja allow others to join the camp? Especially if any were as unstable as Ruben. I needed more information, and I wouldn't get it from the hall.
I regretted that none of my spells were stealth oriented.
Heavy footsteps faded away from me as one speaker left the room. I used the butt of my staff to ease the door open until I could see through the crack, doing my best not to alert the remaining occupant. From what I could tell, with my limited vantage point, the room was a staging area. Racks of armor and weapons lined the wall, and I could hear the clamor of someone working a forge inside, but it was out of sight. I could see three exits, all close to where I was. One door heading west and two to the south, directly opposite me. The southeastern door shuddered as it closed fully.
That must have been where the other voice went. Then the first was working the forge.
Their hushed conversation had implied they were alone in the room. This was my chance to slip in quietly. I pushed the door open, just enough for me to fit through without causing noise. Sure enough, one goblin, at least half again the size of the smaller ones, hunched over a hot forge and hammered away at a battered piece of metal. It focused on its work, oblivious to my presence.
Good.
My [Drain Life] spell caught the smith unaware. A good thing, too, because even after the [Critical Hit. Sneak Attack.] the hobgoblin had enough strength left to spin to face me, swinging the smith's hammer at my face. It connected, but my defensive spells mitigated the impact. The blow still hurt, and my vision swam with pain. I cast a second [Drain Life], dulling the pain, and that one was enough to bring the brute down.
[Hobgoblin Smith killed. Exp gained.]
I crouched low, staff raised, and eyed the southeast door. Had the brief struggle alerted anyone? I could hear dozens of goblins talking, eating, and fighting in the room to the west. I didn't know how many members the tribe had, and they could pile through the door at any minute. A minute passed, then two, but no hoard of goblins bore down on me, and I relaxed.
The forge was in a sorry state. The anvil battered and uneven, and the creator had improvised the forge from whatever materials they'd had available. It was nowhere near the quality of Sonja's. They did, however, have a small pile of scrap metal sitting close by, along with ordered rows of ingots, and I stashed both in my inventory.
Something on one of the armor racks caught my eye as I approached the southeast door, intending to follow the other voice, and my [Investigate] skill tugged me toward a pair of bracers. They were of high quality and clearly not of goblin design or fitted for one. Simply brown leather, stained with sweat, with small metal plates that showed heavy use.
[Masterwork leather bracers. Increased protection.]
I tugged them on and was both pleased and surprised by how well they fit. The metal plate was a comforting weight, and they didn't interfere with my grip on my staff or the tome. They were the first bit of protective equipment I had found in the Dungeon, and while it wasn't much, it was a start. Everything else on the racks had deteriorated too much or was too small to be of any use, so I ignored them. The raw materials would be more useful to Sonja than gear she would have to scrap first.
The dead smith put me on a timer. Something would come through a door and see the body, and I didn't like the idea of being caught behind enemy lines when that happened. I needed to hurry if I wanted to get out of here alive. I followed the second hobgoblin through the southeast door, leading the way with my staff. Another hallway, with a door and a tunneling effort behind a torn down wall. The Deepdark tribe had apparently decided they needed more space at one point, but now the work seemed abandoned. The tunnel only came up to my chest, and I would need to crawl if I wanted to explore it.
Yeah. No.
I pressed my ear against the wooden door, focusing [Investigate], and recoiled. People were crying on the other side, mostly women, with a few men cursing the goblins loudly. There was a muffled crunch and a yelp of pain, then a hobgoblin cackled with delight. I had found the slaves. It was hard to judge how many were inside, but I could only hear the one hobgoblin. A simple enough fight, if I was quick.
The door yielded easily to my kick and slammed against the wall with a crash. Cages of various sizes lined the walls of the room, most empty. A hobgoblin had pulled an emaciated man from a cage and was beating him viciously with a padded club. It missed my entrance, so focused on the beating. The slaves hadn't, however, and many called out and reached towards me through the bars, begging for help.
The hobgoblin noticed and turned before I had made it halfway to him, and its club caught me in the arm as I tried to connect with a [Drain Life], forcing me to fall back or risk a broken arm.
"You!" the hobgoblin snarled, its eyes darting toward the crafting room.
"Me."
I launched a [Firebolt] at it to keep some distance. I had been counting on a sneak attack to do most of the work, and hadn't expected a drawn out fight. The hobgoblin dodged the flame and started banging its club against the bars.
"Attack! Attack! We're under attack!"
Shit.
I attacked, but it was too late. The goblin batted aside my [Drain Life], and its face split with a grotesque smile.
"You're going to die here, human. And I'll be keeping that fancy staff of yours. And my ring. If they're still intact once the chief's done with you."
A door to the west burst open, and two more hobgoblins stumbled out, bleary and confused. Had they been sleeping? My lack of focus cost me, and I took a heavy blow to the ribs that bypassed much of my defense. The beaten man stood up, cradling his injuries, and grabbed a club. His expression resigned, but determined. The face of a man who knew he was going to die, and intended to do as much damage as possible on the way out.
The first hobgoblin rushed us, swinging his club in a frantic rush. I blocked two strokes, but the third caught me in the ear and scrambled my senses. Physical confrontation didn't suit me. Three goblins armed with spears blocked the door. I couldn't punch through them with the hobgoblins bearing down on me, and turning my back to either group would be a death sentence.
"Did you have a plan?" The human asked. He held his left arm close to his chest, and it bent at a hideous angle.
"Uh. Rescue you?" I threw missile after missile into the group of hobgoblins, but they pressed on, undeterred.
"Great job." His tone was acidic, but I could hardly blame him.
Resigning myself to another death, I scanned the room. There were five humans, including my valiant companion. The one man, three women, and a young girl huddling beside them. I could see a slice of the western room over the shoulders of our attackers and could just make out a makeshift bunk bed. It wasn't much information, but it was as much as I was likely to get while trapped in this room.
The human roared in pain, and I saw a flash of blood as a goblin pulled its spear out of his side. The hobgoblins overwhelmed him first, beating him to a mangled mess, while I did my best to protect him. Then they fell on me. I got off one last [Firebolt] before the blows shattered my defenses and took me to the ground. My world filled with pain, and as it faded to black, I heard a familiar voice shouting angrily.
"Don't kill him, you idiots! Don't ki-…"
[You have died.]
The fried potatoes tasted like ash the second time around.
"I apologize for the lack of oil." Sonja said, guessing at what had caused my black mood.
"Sorry, Sonja. They're great. I just…" I wasn't sure how to proceed. "Learned something disturbing while I was exploring yesterday."
Sonja's eyes hardened, but her voice remained kind.
"Teija, we're going to get some water. Could you watch Philip for me? He can have as much as he wants. I think we've had our fill."
Philip cheered, shoveling potatoes into his mouth with a clumsy hand, and Teija nodded, glancing between us. Sonja gestured to me, and we left the room. I tried to plan a way to phrase my discovery, but nothing came to mind. In the end, I just took the simplest route.
"The goblins have prisoners."
Sonja pursed her lips, tapping her hammer thoughtfully.
"Humans?" I nodded.
"Five. Three women, a man, and a young girl. I only got a quick look before I had to fall back."
I couldn't exactly tell her I had died after seeing them.
"I see. What are you going to do?"
"Get them out of there, of course. We can't just leave them to the goblins. The question is what to do with them afterward. Would they be welcome here?"
"I know why you ask, Ciaphas." Sonja rubbed her face with both hands. "We can hardly say no when they need our help. I worry about Philip, of course, but Teija and I will watch him at camp. I would like to meet them before we show them inside, but I will not turn away from those in need. Not anymore."
Saying the words, acknowledging the reality, seemed to give her strength. She dropped her hands and stood straighter, taking strength in her decision.
"Do you have a plan for getting them out?"
"Not yet." I sat on the edge of the fountain and rolled my staff between my palms. "They're well-guarded, and I still don't know how many are inside. At least three goblins, certainly more. I saw three hobgoblins, as well as their chief who is a sorcerer."
I described the size and intelligence difference between the subspecies.
"I see. Too many?" I nodded, and Sonja frowned.
"I have trained with the war hammer, but I am no warrior, Ciaphas. I will aid you if you ask it of me, but I am a craftswoman foremost, and cannot promise how much aid I would be to you in combat. But I will fight if necessary."
Sonja's offer surprised me, but maybe it shouldn't have.
"Thank you, Sonja, but no. I need you here to maintain the defenses and protect Philip. They still don't know where our base is, so it is safe for now, but that won't always be the case."
She nodded, and I saw relief war with guilt as she continued to tap.
"I need time to come up with a plan. Judging by some conversation I caught, we've already thinned out some of their numbers. Maybe if I keep hitting their patrols, I can deal with them piecemeal. It's the hobs and their chief that have me worried."
"I understand." Sonja said, and straightened from where she'd been leaning against the wall. "I will continue to watch things here. If you think of something I can do to help, or change your mind about having my aid in the attack, just say the word. Is there anything else?"
"Thank you, Sonja." Ruben came to mind again, and I grimaced. "There is. I found other survivors yesterday during my adventure. Humans."
"You didn't mention this last night." It was neither question nor reproach, just statement of fact.
"I had no intention of bringing them to camp. Two men have made a camp of their own close to the goblin tribe. One is an old man, a doctor. He seems kind enough, if weak, and could be an asset…"
"But?"
"But the other may become a problem. Younger man, and utterly mad. I saw him carve a goblin like a chicken. If I understand correctly, they have been surviving off of goblin flesh for some time now. The madman eagerly."
Now Sonja shared my grimace.
"I see. Is he a danger to us?"
"Not immediately," I admitted. "But I have a feeling he could be, if we weren't careful. I wouldn't trust him to camp with us. Though I regret needing to leave the doctor with him."
"I will trust your judgement, then. If you separate the doctor from the madman, I will meet him. Until then, we will be ever vigilant."
Sonja clapped her hand on my shoulder in quiet support, then left me with my thoughts, returning to camp with a bucket of clean water in hand.
My thoughts raced, combining into a single jumbled mess. I needed to rescue the slaves without dying. I needed to secure our camp before our enemies found it and Wulthark ordered a full attack. We still required a reliable source of food rather than rationing whatever I could scrounge during my exploration. Ruben was a madman and a disaster waiting to happen. I'd barely explored half of the Dungeon, and for all I knew it only got worse the deeper into goblin territory we ventured.
I still didn't know why I kept waking up after I died. It had been a few days since my last death, my strength and prowess growing as time passed, and I had forgotten what it was like. I remembered the feel of goblin truncheons breaking bone, and shivered. Wulthark had claimed to know why it happened and had threatened that he knew how to kill me once and for all. Had it been a bluff to scare me away from his territory? Or had he been telling the truth? Would I always come back to life, or was there a limit to how many times it would happen?
I squeezed my staff and rose to my feet. Answers wouldn't come to me just sitting around. I did not savor the thought of returning. I had already paid the price for my overconfidence once, but could I leave the others as slaves to the goblin tribe?
Did I have a choice?
