For those of you who have read my other Goblin Slayer stories, this takes place after the events of Morning. There will be a recap of the important bits, so you don't have to have read that one first.
High Elf Archer finally gets to take Goblin Slayer on a real adventure in...
Married Life
Chapter Seven: Mazes And Monsters
Torch in one hand, sword of an unusual length in the other, Goblin Slayer led the way deeper into the recently discovered underground ruins. It wasn't his usual choice of Quests: some university in the Capital wanted the labyrinth mapped, and was willing to pay top rates to get it done soon. Unfortunately, Dwarf Shaman had been called home by news that he was about to become a grandfather for the second time, leaving their party short one Magic User.
It had been High Elf Archer who suggested the replacement...
"I do love a good labyrinth." Witch commented from her place beside Priestess in the middle of the party, "There's just something so mysterious about them."
"Isn't that kind of the point?" Spearman asked, still somewhat unsure just how his partner had talked him into this.
The answer was, or cause, the money. And that was exactly why Goblin Slayer had agreed to it himself: he'd only just gotten his head around Guild Girl being pregnant when Cow Girl had announced that she too was expecting. And while he'd built up a reasonable sum of money by living cheaply, there simply weren't enough goblin related quests to support a growing family. As such he had reluctantly agreed to start undertaking better paying jobs, on the understanding that they would continue to hunt goblins in the meantime.
His change of mind had delighted High Elf Archer, and given just how she'd expressed her happiness, it was only surprising that she too wasn't with child. But she had found the exploration quest and convinced Witch and Spearman to join them, filling the hole mad by the missing Dwarf Shaman but splitting the pay six ways instead of five. Goblin Slayer had contemplated undertaking and quest with just the four of them, and once upon a time he would have suggested it. But marriage, and impending fatherhood, had changed him.
The Guild Hall had been relatively quiet when Witch had opened the doors, allowing Female Knight to stride in, an unconscious Goblin Slayer held over one shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Finding the nearest empty table, she'd all but dumped him on it while Guild Girl went to fetch some smelling salts from the first aid box. Witch had, for her part, gone into the Tavern and returned with a bottle of brandy and a large glass. Cow Girl had removed Goblin Slayers helmet, High Elf Archer holding his head while Guild Girl waved the strongly smelling compounds under their husbands nose.
A small crowd of Adventures had started to gather, a few taking bets as to just what had happened to cause the notoriously stoic Goblin Slayer in need of such assistance.
He'd come round with a start, sitting bolt-upright, causing many of those around him to jump backwards. Witch wasp one of those who remained unphased, and simply handed him a generous measure of brandy before taking a swig from the bottle. He'd taken the offered glass and drained it without a word, the strong liquor burning its way down his throat and into his stomach. Feeling at least somewhat fortified by the drink, he turned to look at Guild Girl. She had a somewhat worried look on her face, unsure how to take his reaction to the news that she was carrying his...no; their child. It wasn't like they were doing anything to avoid her getting pregnant, quite the opposite in fact, but at the same time it wasn't something that they were actively trying for.
None of were actively trying to fall pregnant, but rather had accepted it as a probable outcome.
Goblin Slayer looked at her for a moment, then wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close. Burying his face in her shoulder, he breathed in the scent of her, letting it fill his lungs. He'd never really given much thought to starting a family; before the wedding, it hadn't really crossed his mind, and even afterwards, it was more of an abstract concept. But now, confronted by the reality of it, he found that there was nothing he wanted more, not even the kill ever last goblin.
"What's up with him?" Spearman had asked, heaving made his way over to the group.
"Sudden Onset Fartherhood." Witch had smiled, slipping an arm around the man who was still officially only her professional partner, even if it was clear that their relationship was growing closer.
"Really?" Spearman had laughed, then slapped Goblin Slayer on the back, "Here's hoping that it takes after its mother in the looks department."
Cow Girl had kicked him in the shin for that.
"Something's up ahead. On the left." High Elf Archer warned, bringing him fully back to the present, "Looks like a side-room."
"Stop your grinnin' and drop your linen!" Spearman warned, his keen eyes scanning every inch of the hallway, "Prime ambush spot."
"Indeed." Goblin Slayer nodded in agreement, tightening his grip on his sword even as he reached out for the door handle with his other hand.
Lizard Priest dropped into a low, wide stance, ready to tackle anything that came through the doorway while High Elf Archer notched an arrow and pulled it back. Behind them, Witch and Priestess took up position, ready to offer support to both the front and rear of the party.
High Elf Archer nodded, and Goblin Slayer pushed the door open. The old, iron bound wood protested at first, untold centuries of rust and debris shacking free with a painfully loud screech. Eventually it gave way with a shudder, opening up onto a pitch-black room.
"Inflammarae!" Witch cast, and ancient torches along the walls sprung to life.
The chamber was about twenty yards square, with the same stone floor and walls as the passageways. At its centre sat a large wooden chest, beside which sat the crumpled remains of an armour-clad figure, a rusted sword by their side. On closer inspection it was clear that, in life, the dead warrior had been a giant among men, standing at least eight foot tall, their blue and gold armour bearing a crescent moon insignia over the right shoulder pauldron, while their tall shield bore a fist holding a warhammer.
"Almost looks like they were guarding the chest." High Elf Archer suggested, her ears twitching, "Wonder what's inside..."
She went to take a step forward, but Goblin Slayer stopped her. He nodded to Lizard Priest, who picked up a small rock and tossed it into the room. Lightning arced across the floor, radiating out from where the rock landed.
"Trap." Goblin Slayer muttered.
"Standard rules apply." there was a glimmer of anticipation in Witch's eyes, "the sword and armour belong to the people who logged the quest, but any treasure chests we find and can open are ours."
"Then the question is," High Elf Archer lent on her bow, looking at the chest, "how do we get in there?"
It was a good question: Treasurer Chests could contain almost anything, from gold and jems to ancient relics and magic scrolls. More than one Adventurer had been able to retire and settle down on the contents of a single chest, and even split six ways, it could easily amount to more than they were being paid for mapping the labyrinth. Or it could be empty, a joke on the part of the Gods. The only way to know for sure was to open it.
Goblin Slayer looked at the chest, deep in thought: the midwife had confirmed that Cow Girl was also with child just the day before they had left the farm, so he now had two pregnant wives, two children on the way. While his account with the Adventurers Guild still held a reasonable reserve, it wasn't enough, especially if anything was to happen to him. No, he needed to ensure that his family would be provided for if the worst should happen, and that ment taking the risk of opening the chest.
But first they had to find a way to deactivate or at least bypass the deadly trap protecting it.
Returning his sword to its scabbard, Goblin Slayer handed his torch to Priestess and drew his short bow. Trying a rope to an arrow, he took careful aim and loosed it across the room and into the far wall. The steel arrowhead dug deep into the ancient stone, but drew no lightning from whatever spell or enchantment protected the floor. Taking a small satchel, he ran the rope through the strap and sent it down the roap. It hung near the ground, but still drew no reaction. He nodded to Lizard Priest, who tossed a second stone into the room, drawing out great arcs of raw, primordial power from the floor.
"Trap only triggers if you touch the ground." Goblin Slayer observed.
He handed the rope to Lizard Priest, who pulled it tight, making sure that the arrow wouldn't easily come loose. Happy that it would take the weight, Goblin Slayer went to climb onto the rope, but it was High Elf Archer's turn to stop him.
"Not so fast, Orcbolg." she smiled, "Next to Priestess, I'm the lightest one here. I should be the one to go."
"..." Goblin Slayer opened his mouth to protest, but the look on the Rangers face silenced him.
Dwarf Shaman was right about one thing: happy wife, happy life, even if he did have to let her take the occasional risk.
With Lizard Priest and Goblin Slayer anchoring the rope, High Elf Archer nimbly swung her long legs over it and started to pull herself deeper into the room. She couldn't help but smile, despite the danger: this was what she had envisioned Adventurers did when she was younger, what she had dreamed of doing herself. This was a true adventure, pitting her wits and skills against the gods themselves. The rope groaned and swayed as she made her way out over the deadly floor.
Pausing half way to her target, she drew one of her throwing knives and flung it into the chest. The razor sharp blade cut into the wood and stuck, but drew no reaction from the trap in the floor. Inching forward until she was almost over the chest, she wrapped her legs tightly around the rope, and taking her ponytail between her teeth, released her grip on the rope. Hanging upside down, supported only by her legs, she examined the lock on the chest: while hardly universal, lock-picking was a fairly common skill for Adventurers to aquire, even if it was traditionally the domain of Rogues or Scouts. Fortunately, she believed in multi-classing, and had a set of lock-picks in her right glove for just these occasions.
"Jist ah momt." she informed the others through the hair that filled her mouth as she started to insert the first pick.
"Not wanting to worry anyone, but I can hear something." Spearman warned, gesturing down the dark passageway where a clicking noise could be faintly heard.
"No pressure." High Elf Archer spat the hair out of her mouth, allowing it to fall worryingly closer to the floor.
Fiddling with the lock, one of the picks slipped out of her grasp and tumbled towards the floor. Quick as a snake, her hand shot out and caught it at the last moment, but her sudden movement made the rope away and jerk uncontrollably, threatening to fling her loose. Grabbing the chest for balance, she jammed the pick in and snapped the last catch out of the way, allowing the latch to snap open.
A flash of light illuminated the floor, then it went dark. High Elf Archer dropped one of the picks, and it bounced off the floor without setting off the trap.
"Trap's deactivated!" High Elf Archer dropped to the floor, spinning mid-air to land on all fours with all the grace of a jungle cat.
Flipping open the chest, she reached inside to where something lay covered in what looked like an old battle standard that crumpled to dust the moment she touched it, revealing what lay below.
"DRIDERS!" Witch called out as she caught sight of just what was approaching, "WE GOT DRIDERS INCOMING!"
"Driders?" High Elf Archer reached into the chest and grabbed what was inside, "I HATE DRIDERS!"
To Be Continued...