Disclaimer: Goblin Slayer and Warhammer Fantasy are properties of Kumo Kagyu and Games Workshop respectively. I own nothing here except for the few OCs I created.
"What Will You Do?"
A rabbit was hopping across the grassy earth at an almost sedate pace, every motion making it's plump little body and round cotton-like tail bounce. The adorable creature was covered in a soft and glossy pelt that was the same color as virgin snow, with beady eyes of a rich amber. It reached a small patch of tall grass and began to feed upon it with nary a care for the world.
A Goblin would soon change that however. The nasty little thing finally ended it's skulking and sprang out of the nearby bushes, catching the unsuspecting rabbit. The little animal let out a terrified squeak as it struggled within the Goblin's grubby hands, desperate for escape. It's captor's red eyes leered at it, salivating at the prospect of a good meal after days spent in hiding. The Goblin soon ran away, intent on making it back to the filthy burrow it made for itself so that it can enjoy the rabbit in peace.
But a knife flying through the air at a blistering pace would strike down that notion. The seven inches of sharpened steel struck the Goblin in the leg, the blade digging deep into it's thigh until it stopped at the hilt. The Greenskin howled out in pain as it fell to the ground. It released it's hold upon it's prey to clutch it's wounded thigh, thus allowing the little rabbit to hop away to freedom, leaving it's would-be predator to whatever unfortunate fate the gods' had in store for it.
The Goblin continued to cry and screech in agony as it tried to remove the knife buried within it's thigh, but to little effect. The blade had not only pierced through it's flesh, but had also dug into it's very bone. Removing the blade would prove quite difficult, and any attempts in doing so resulted in even more mind breaking pain.
Realizing the futility of this act, the Goblin instead tried to make it's way back to the safety of it's little hole, knowing that whoever was responsible for this would soon be upon it. Leaking dark blood upon the earth, and every movement causing more pain to flare from it's wound, the Goblin nonetheless managed to push itself off the ground until it stood on it's good leg. It then began limping away, it's ugly face a permanent mask of pain and fear.
For all it's efforts, it only managed a dozen meager yards. And each step it took was an excruciating ordeal as it continued to limp away pathetically. But almost as though some mysterious power wished to add further insult to painful injury, the Goblin tripped upon a protruding tree root and fell upon the hard ground with a light thud. And the sudden drop served to jar it's injured leg, causing another fresh wave pain and making the Goblin howl in agony.
The Goblin cursed! It would truly seem that Gork and Mork, or Mork and Gork, had abandoned it this day! But fortunately, it would not have long to rage against the unfairness of it all.
For a dark shadow soon covered it's prone form. The creature paused, the cold hand of fear gripping it's tainted heart. It cast a wary glance to the side, and it's eyes soon fell upon a pair of heavy armored boots just a foot away from it. Swallowing nervously, the Goblin looked up to see whom those belonged to. And what it saw just made it's blood turn to ice.
It was a Human, similar to all the other wretches that called these lands their home. But this was no ordinary Human. It was that same crazy git that killed so many of it's fellow Goblins days before, the one that made an utter fool of it's former Warboss and caused it's grisly demise. And right now, this human was looking down at it. Crimson eyes piecing into the Goblin's terrified orbs. And they glowed with an eerie light, like twin hot coals set upon a cold white mask, so full of malice and murderous hate, directed solely at it.
"Oi! W-weyt! No kill!" came the Goblin's desperate cry while raising it's hands up, using it's rather limited mastery of Reikspeil to try and convince this Human to spare it's life. "Me no- urgh!"
Whatever else the Goblin wished to say, it did not get to finish it, for the red-eyed Human raised it's heavy boot and kicked it right in the face. The creature mewled piteously, in terrible pain as it's ugly visage was reduced into a bleeding ruin. It tried to crawl away, desperate to preserve it's pitiful existence. But the same armored boot descended upon it once again and struck it in the back of the head. And with such force that it shattered the Goblin's skull like an egg, splattering it's bloody contents all over the ground.
He regarded his latest victim with cold disdain. Grim satisfaction swelled within his chest, as another hated foe was reduced to a ruined corpse which carrion worms and crows would feast upon. He made a note to ask the sergeant to include him in any future patrols in the coming days. So he may scour every inch of these woods of the foul green defilers. Only then may he return home, content in the knowledge that the people here would remain safe long after he was gone.
He knelt down to retrieve his throwing knife, grasping the hilt with one firm hand, and with a bit of effort, wrenched the blade free of the Goblin's corpse. He then took a small rag from one of his pockets and started wiping off the blood from his knife. Cleaning his blade soon revealed a tiny detail which made him frown. The tip of his throwing knife had been blunted and slightly chipped, undoubtedly a result of having pierced hard bone.
That had not been his intention. He only wanted to rob the Goblin the ability to run by wounding it in the leg, as well as create a blood trail for him to follow. But it would seem he had thrown his blade with too much force, hence the damage to it. It was still usable, but at this rate he would soon need to find a proper smith to ask for repairs. And not only that, but his other weapons could also use some repairs as well. A matter for another time.
He was about to turn around and rejoin Erik and sergeant Wulfrik. But that was when he noticed something a bit odd. Turning his stern gaze to the side, his sights soon fell upon a rabbit, one with a snowy-white pelt. The little creature stood just beneath a large tree a good distance away, it's long and delicate ears twitching every now and then as it faced his direction, staring at him with those amber colored eyes.
He narrowed his eyes at the creature, deeply suspicious. One hand inching slowly to his sword's hilt.
Such a seemingly harmless and adorable animal would not have given him cause for concern. Had it not been for the fact that the little beast had this odd habit of shadowing them, which it had done ever since they entered these woods. And the way that Goblin had tripped and fallen to the ground, when one of the tree roots had conveniently moved to snag it's foot, was also not lost on him. He knew not how exactly, but he had a very strong suspicion that this plump little beast was responsible.
In the same way it was responsible for that one other Goblin that had fallen into a ditch that suddenly materialized beneath it, thus preventing it from sneaking up on Wulfrik. Or how an Orc was knocked to the ground when a low hanging tree branch suddenly smacked it in the face before it could close in on Erik. In each mysterious circumstance, this little white rabbit had been present. He could easily put two and two together.
He considered tossing a knife at it, just to be safe. And then he would bring it back to the Stahlhart residence, where he would dress it up and turn into a tasty stew. Goblin slaying is hungry work after all.
Seemingly aware of his thoughts, the strange animal grew weary and afraid as it took a few steps backwards, ready to hop away to safety should he act on his desires. This caused his brow to rise, amused by it. So it fears death? Good. It meant it was something that he could slay despite it's many mysterious tricks, should it ever prove an enemy.
But after a bit more thought, he finally averted his gaze from the creature and began walking away. He knew not what that things is, but it was no Goblin, of that he was certain. So he will not turn it into rabbit stew. And besides, had Priestess been here, she would not have approved of him harming that animal. Knowing her, she would nag him to the ends of the earth had he lain a hand on it. And Goblins were an easier challenge than an angry Priestess.
But had he stopped to check on the rabbit once more, he would have been treated to a rather interesting sight. Of the little creature suddenly transforming into a beautiful young woman, with long and luscious chestnut-colored hair and eyes of rich amber, which were now slowly dying down into their normal almond brown. And had he stopped to observe more, he would have seen her wave a glowing hand towards the direction of the dead Goblin, causing thick roots to mysteriously rise out of the ground and slowly pull the Greenskin's corpse down into the earth.
Before she finally sauntered away, and disappeared into an otherworldly mist.
Wulfrik walked down the small trail at a brisk pace, eyes ever vigilant as he scanned the woods around him with his longrifle drawn. He cast a brief glance to the skies, and saw that it was nearly dusk. A frown made it's way to his face, disappointed with this. He would have preferred to be back in his house by now, sitting in front of a warm hearth and enjoying a plate of mutton and a large stein of beer, instead of traipsing around these woods in this hour. But considering the surprising amount of progress they made today, he supposed it was an even trade.
Wulfrik, Erik and the Goblin Slayer had traversed miles of rugged and wooded terrain during their search, all to find the remnants of the former Greenskin horde that they defeated days prior. Not wishing to take any chances, Tanya had agreed to Wulfrik's recommendation of sending out what was essentially a hunting party, meant to root out any Goblins and Orcs who might have chosen to inhabit the woods. And not just Greenskins, but also other dangerous elements who were a threat to the security of the villagers. If any semblance of normalcy and peace was ever to return to Essental, measures had to be taken to ensure that their very own backyard was safe for people to go into.
This was only the first in a long series of patrols that Wulfrik planned to launch in the coming weeks. And so far, everything was off to a good start. Twenty five Greenskins dead all on the first day. A surprising result, considering there were only three of them out here and they had a lot of ground to cover. But they managed to pull it off nonetheless, and all without any casualties. There were a couple of close calls yes, but nothing serious. And top it all off, they accomplished this without having to fire a single shot.
He looked over his shoulder to check his other two companions. Erik was just a few feet behind him, matching his pace but was much more relaxed than he was as the young man took out a wineskin from his pack and downed it's contents. And further behind was the Goblin Slayer, calm and vigilant as ever as he scanned his surroundings with those strange red eyes of his, one hand always resting comfortably on his sword's hilt.
Wulfrik smirked as he turned his sights forward. He still stood by his belief of that Northman boy being a dangerous threat to this village, and that they were better off should he leave and never come back. And he still does not approve of him living with Lady Tanya and Anna. But Wulfrik could not deny that the boy was bloody damned useful in a fight, as well as hunting down hidden enemies, at least when Goblins were concerned.
When that mutant first suggested that Wulfrik and Erik did not need to use their guns when hunting down the Greenskins, the old sergeant simply told him to piss off and stuff his suggestions up his pasty arse. It would be a warm day in Norsca when Wulfrik starts taking orders or suggestions from one who was both a foreigner and a mutant. And a girlish looking one at that.
But when they encountered their very first Goblin, and witnessed the Slayer eliminate the Greenskin swiftly and silently with a simple toss of a knife before either Wulfrik and Erik could shoot it, the sergeant simply held his tongue. And when the second and third Goblin they discovered met similar fates, Wulfrik and Erik were soon forced to follow the man's lead, much to the old sergeant's annoyance. And grudging respect.
And that was how they went through their patrol. Hunting down and killing Greenskins using only their axes and knives. Sneaking up on them from behind and taking them down, or lying in wait and ambushing them when they got close. They even made a large fire earlier using lots of dried leaves and fallen branches and used it to literally smoke out a group of Goblins hiding withing a cave. And the moment the little fools rushed out, coughing and blinded by smoke, the three men fell upon them and hacked them apart.
That last one was also the Slayer's idea. Devious bastard.
Cowardly and underhanded ways to be sure, and doubtless that mighty Ulric would be displeased of them for this. But none could dispute the efficacy of such tactics, nor the results. Tactics that, as Wulfrik had personally witnessed, the Goblin Slayer was clearly proficient in. It forced the sergeant to change some of his earlier evaluations of the mutant. And it gave him more reasons to keep his pistol close and loaded at all times.
"Sergeant Wulfrik?" came the sudden call from behind, causing the sergeant to frown, annoyed. And the mutant speaks once again. He better not hear the Northman boy gloat over his little achievements today or else he might just give his perfect teeth a small rearrangement.
"Aye, out with it" was his gruff response, not stopping to look back, for he wanted to be well out of these woods before nightfall.
"I wish to know. Are Goblins this common in your lands?" was the pale skinned warriors simple query.
Wulrik resisted the urge to laugh, feeling both amusement and contempt. Of course he would ask that. A self-proclaimed slayer of Goblins would naturally wish to kill more of his chosen prey. In fact, had he not called their hunt over for today, this red-eyed maniac would have probably continued searching for more of the little green bastards. Probably would have spent days or even weeks camped out in these woods just to find every single one of them.
Not that it matters to Wulfrik one bit. If this Northman boy found his giggles in hunting down and killing those little green midgets then who was he to judge. It was well within his rights under Imperial law, so none would get in his way should he ply his trade within Wulfrik's beloved homeland. The only problem is, if he ever decides to go Goblin slaying here in the Empire, then he would be in for a nasty surprise.
"Common enough" was the sergeant's simple enough answer.
"A little bit too common, I should say" Erik added, smiling as he took another swig of his wineskin.
"I see" was the mutant's even reply.
And a long stretch of silence soon followed, one that Wulfrik was thankful for. Not really in the mood to answer any more stupid questions. But just when he thought the silence would persist until they made it back to the village, more questions soon came.
"Then do you happen to know where one could find more Goblins? Any large nests or dwellings that you are aware of?"
That caused the sergeant to look over his shoulder, casting the Slayer a dubious look, shortly before returning his stern gaze forward and spoke in turn. His tone overly sarcastic. "And why do you wish to know? You plan on paying them a visit for some tea and crumpets?"
"I wish to bring about their demise, before I depart for my home. And it matters not if I do it alone, for they will still die the same. I only require sufficient knowledge as to their numbers and whereabouts" was the Goblin Slayer's immediate reply, his voice firm and full of certainty. Not leaving any doubts for all those listening as to his conviction.
But the other two men present had rather mixed reactions to this. Erik simply turned and stared at the Slayer, genuinely baffled and incredulous, almost as if he had seen the man grow an extra head on his shoulders. But Wulfrik was more vocal on his response.
"Ha!" came the derisive laugh from the old sergeant, a nasty grin creeping up his grizzled visage. He turned slightly around and cast another look towards the silvery-haired man and said. "You're ficken serious, aren't you? You, kill every Greenskin out there, all alone?"
The Slayer simply nodded in confirmation. And the sergeant shook his head at that, torn between feeling amused by his utter foolishness and impressed by his suicidal courage. This Northman boy was a bloody madman, Wulfrik mused. Little better than a filthy, flea-bitten, Flagellant. Reasoning with him would be akin to bashing ones head against a wall. So it was better to simply unleash him. To get as much use out of him before he finally expires.
"Well, if you really wish to find more of the green menaces, then just take a nice, long walk towards whichever direction you like. I'm sure your bound to run into a Greenskin tribe or two along the way. Maybe even another horde as big as the one we fought days ago, if your luck holds. Just be sure to write your will before you go, so we can mail it to your kin when you die"
Wulfrik figured he could have been a bit more informative, and maybe a bit more polite, but he had not the patience nor the inclination at this time. And what he said was true enough. Greenskins were much more common in the lands of the Empire than most people think, so the Goblin Slayer will have little trouble searching for more. Even in the more peaceful provinces such as the Reikland and Wissenland, villages and towns were still prone to Greenskin raids. More so here in Ostermark which was the very frontier of the Empire of Man.
So the question of another Greenskin invasion was not a matter of 'will it happen again', but rather, 'when it would happen again'.
Wulfrik already knew the answer to that. And it was the reason for many a restless night for the old sergeant. He was glad that he kept a few casks of Bertha's signature ale in his house. A strong drink was the only thing that could help him sleep these days.
But the Slayer on the other hand looked rather puzzled at this. And more than a little worried. "I do not understand. Are you saying that there are possibly hundreds or even thousands of Goblins rampaging within your lands?"
The old sergeant snorted at that. "Of course there are. What, you thought you're only gonna find a few small bands out here? For someone who calls himself a Goblin Slayer, you sure know little about the things you like to hunt"
"And that's just here in Ostermark by the way. You'll find even more of them over in Middenland and Ostland, causing all manner of destruction. Even in Hochland where I used to live, we've had more than our fair share of Greenskin raiding parties" Erik chimed in his usual casual manner, a smirk upon his roguish face. "And by Rhya's tits, their not even the worse thing you'll find over there"
He then gave the Slayer a rather conspiratorial look, his tone now suggestive. "Ever heard of an Arachnarok? Or a Cygor? Or even a Jabberslythe?"
"No, I have not. Are they some new breed of Goblin?" was the other man's question, genuinely curious. Which prompted loud laughter from young hunter.
"Ah ha ha ha! Oh yes! They're Goblins alright!" Erik jokingly exclaimed, still laughing at the Slayer's expense. "Especially the Jabberslythe. A truly one of a kind breed of Goblin and a rare beauty at that. Want me to tell you all about it?"
"No need to tell him about any of that boy" Wulfrik soon interjected, a grin upon his face, contemptuous. "We don't want to frighten our Goblin Slayer here into an early retirement now"
"Ha ha! Aye, good point" the younger man said before taking another sip from his wineskin. Only to find it was all empty now, making him frown in distaste.
"I swear this was still half full. Where did the rest of it go?!" he quietly raged, somewhat panicked.
A cursory examination soon revealed the cause. There was a small hole at the bottom of his wineskin, still leaking small precious remnants of good wine, yet one that Erik was most certain wasn't there before.
"Verdammt!" the roguish young hunter cursed, now most forlorn, before he cast the Goblin Slayer a suspicious look. Unaware of the one watching him from behind the trees, eyes gleaming with mischief.
While Erik was busy quietly mourning the loss of his favored drink and casting angry glances at the wrong suspect, the Goblin Slayer was busy contemplating these latest revelations. And the knowledge only made him displeased. And very much so. He turned his attention back to the sergeant.
"If you know where they are and how many, then why have you not done anything about it?" The Goblin Slayer questioned, and somewhat accusingly.
And this finally caused the sergeant to halt in his steps, prompting the other two to do the same. A rather wrathful look soon came upon the old sergeant's face, his mood suddenly turning dark. He turned about and faced the Goblin Slayer directly, glaring daggers into the pale-skinned warrior's crimson eyes.
"Care to repeat that?" the sergeant demanded.
There was just something about what the Goblins Slayer said that rang unpleasantly in Wulfrik's ears. And depending on his next words, he may or may not walk up to him and break his nose. Erik on the other hand was well aware of the sudden change of atmosphere between the two men, and had wisely taken a couple steps back, not wanting to be caught in the crossfire should a fight break out between them.
But instead of being intimidated, or trying to be diplomatic in order to avoid trouble, the Slayer addressed the sergeant once more with the same cold and calculated bluntness that he was quite known for.
"The Goblins invade your lands. They trample your fields. Murder your men. Defile your women. And devour your children. Yet instead of being grounded beneath your heel, they are allowed to live and depart, drunk with victory. Only for them to return and repeat their crimes, time and again" The Slayer stated, almost akin to a Witch Hunter proclaiming the crimes of an accused.
"One would think that a nation called the Empire would have the strength to protect it's own. But from what I have heard so far, it does not. Tell me sergeant, does your Empire lack proper warriors to defend it's people? Or are your lords and masters simply so uncaring?"
Those words brought a nasty snarl to the old sergeants face, eyes narrowing, his hand hovering close to his pistol. And it was taking nearly all of his many years of hard earned discipline and reserve not to draw his weapon, and shoot this mutant in the face! For how dare he, a backwoods, Chaos-tainted foreigner, speak of matters he was woefully ignorant about!
All of a sudden Wulfrik lunged forward. And with both hands he grabbed the front straps of the Goblin Slayer's harness and pulled him close. Pale blue eyes glaring hatefully into steely crimson orbs. Yet the Slayer remained calm in the face of the sergeant's threatening move, though one hand was already holding onto the hilt of a knife hidden beneath his shirtsleeve.
"Listen to me you pasty little scheiss, and you listen good" Wulfrik growled out.
"Both of you are the same size though" Erik quipped, an amused smirk upon his face.
"Shut it boy!" the sergeant barked at him, before he turned his attention back to the Slayer. "You seem to have a habit of keeping to yourself and staying quiet. I advice you to keep it that way instead of yapping off without much prior thought. Especially about things that you know so little about!"
He then shoved the Slayer back, causing the man to stumble a few steps before he quickly regained his balance. But the way his crimson eyes flashed dangerously for a brief moment was a good sign that Wulfrik's rough handling was far from welcome. Not that he gave a rat's arse if it was. For it was time to show this Northman scum how wrong he was about some of his assumptions.
"To answer your ficken question, mutant" The sergeant began, so full of righteous zeal and conviction. "The Empire is the greatest nation of men this world has ever seen, and the greatest there ever will be! Not even those Kislevite bastards to the north nor those Bretonnian horse-kissers to the west can come close to our nation's might, not with how utterly backwards they are! So a bunch of barbarous Orcs and wretched Goblins are nothing compared to the brave sons and daughters of Sigmar! If it was simply Greenskins we were up against, know that my people would have driven them all to extinction centuries ago! You wish to know the reason why we haven't exterminated those animals yet?"
"Why?" the Goblin Slayer responded, listening intently as his mind continued to ponder all that is being said.
"Because Greenskins are not the only enemies we face" the old sergeant grimly declared.
Wulfrik raised his hand and pointed towards the south. "In the south, the Vampire Counts and their undead thralls creep out of haunted Sylvania, and prey upon the innocent in the dead of night"
Next he pointed northwards. "In the far north, Norscan barbarians sail across the Sea of Claws to raid our shores, bringing the taint of Chaos with them, along with all manner of foul abominations birthed by the frozen hell that is their homeland"
And then Wulfrik gestured towards their wooded surroundings. "And from deep within the forests of the Empire, the Beastmen launch their never ending war against us. Burning every town and every village. Sparing no one. And leaving nothing for us to find, other than smoldering ruins and the bones of good Imperial citizens"
He finally turned his stern gaze towards the Slayer, and a grim smile made it's way to his face. "And those are only a few of the many other enemies our glorious Empire must defeat. What ordinary folk in every province have to defend their homes and their families from. The sort of enemies that I have been fighting and killing for the past thirty years. So if you truly believe you can kill every Goblin out there, thus succeed where the Empire's finest soldiers and greatest generals have failed, then by all means, do so. You are welcome to ply your trade within our lands. It might finally give our badly worn and overworked military a bit of a breather. Beware though, for you might find more than just Goblins out there"
Another long moment of silence descended as Wulfrik paused to wait for the Northman's response. And he was pleased to see that, instead of acting like some petulant child who stubbornly refused to see wisdom, similar to many noble pricks he had the misfortune of working with in the past, this Goblin Slayer was contemplative. And worried.
Good. It means he won't simply charge into battle like an Ulrican deep in his cups, and die horribly in the process. The sergeant then turned around and began to walk away. Only for him to stop once more as another idea formed in his head. Since he had already started informing this Northman about the many evils that plague the Empire, he might as well take it one step further. By educating him about one particular evil that Wulfrik knew would surely deter him from his foolish quest.
And maybe even put an end to his career as a Goblin Slayer.
"One last thing" Wulfrik began again as he turned to face the Slayer. "Have you ever heard of a Waaagh! before Northman?"
"...Waaagh?" The Slayer repeated, confused. Before he shakes his head and said. "No, I have not. What is it?"
Wulfrik grunted. A smile soon formed upon his thickly bearded face, yet one that was devoid of any warmth or mirth as began to explain.
"Orcs and Goblins are a violent yet primitive race. Too busy fighting and betraying one another to be of any significant threat to anyone. But there comes a time when one of them grows strong enough and smart enough to unite their warring tribes together, becoming a Warlord. And this Warlord will then lead these tribes on a vicious campaign of mindless carnage, killing and pillaging everything in their wake. And this attracts more Greenskin tribes to the Warlord's host, swelling it's damnable ranks. And with each battle won by the Warlord, more Greenskins flock to it's banner, attracting even those from far off lands to partake in the destruction. Until finally, they become so vast in number, that it is said they can cover the land from horizon to horizon. A veritable tide of green that destroys everything in it's path. A Waaagh!"
This Goblin Slayer was not the sort to show much emotion, nor was he one to be frightened so easily, Wulfrik could attest to that. But at this moment, the Northman boy wore a truly haunted look upon his face ghostly pale face. Almost as if he had seen his worse nightmare come to life. Which it was in many ways.
"That is.. T-That is impossible" he choked out, eyes wide and full of disbelief.
"I wish it were boy. Truly, I do" Wulfrik spoke, his scarred and grizzled visage more grave this time. "But it's the truth. As far as I know, The Empire has only experienced three Greenskin Waaaghs in it's entire history. Yet in each time it happened, The Empire was very nearly destroyed"
The Slayer simply stared at him for a good moment, that haunted look upon his face still firmly plastered, his breathing growing a bit heavy. And Wulfrik could almost see the way his mind was racing as he tried to fully grasp the severity of this latest revelation.
"I… I see" he finally spoke and nodded, though still rather unsure. Wulfrik stood there and studied him for a good long moment. Before he finally turned around and walked away, leaving a still frightened and dumbstruck Goblin Slayer behind.
"I've said enough on the matter. Do what you will" was the man's parting words.
Erik watched the old sergeant leave, one eyebrow quirked while an amused smirk was on his face. When he was finally out of earshot, the roguish looking hunter walked over to the Slayer's side.
"Taal's mossy arse, I thought he would never shut up!" the young man exclaimed in jest, chuckling as he looked towards the direction of Wulfrik's retreating form. "You know, that old bugger usually doesn't talk much. But if you can get him all riled up, it's nearly impossible to shut him up. Even worse when he gets drunk. The man curses up a storm and sings so loud, I swear everyone from Essental to Bechefen could bloody hear him!"
The Goblin Slayer did not respond to him of course. Erik gave the man a somewhat sympathetic look, noting the way he was just staring at the ground and looking all angry and distraught. Looking as though someone told him that his mother and father had recently died of the wasting sickness
Or how someone broke into their house one night and shagged the living daylights out of his sister before killing her right in front of him.
Or that his girl finally grew tired of waiting for him to finish Goblin slaying and simply left his sorry arse to go marry some rich sod.
Worse still if said girl kicked him out of their home shortly after telling him she was going to go marry said rich sod. And that she was already pregnant with said rich sod's whelp, after several rough tumbles with him in the past while the Slayer was away . That ought to be a major kick in the sacks.
Not that any of these unfortunate things actually happened to the Goblin Slayer of course. It was all just idle speculation on Erik's part.
The point of the matter was that Erik felt sorry for the man. Oh, he still fantasized sometimes about beating the crap out of this pale bastard for trying to steal Tanya away from him, even if it was unintended. But he was also grateful for him, because not only did he save Erik's life, but he also saved Tanya's life as well.
And for that, Erik was gonna be a good sport and try to cheer him up.
"Oh lighten up!" Erik said to him cheerfully as he raised a hand and gave him a friendly smack on the shoulder. "Don't let that old goat drag your spirits down into the muck. You need to look at the brighter side of things instead!"
The Goblin Slayer turned his eyes towards him. "Such as?"
He flashed him a confident smile and cheerfully explained. "That when your job here is finally done, you'll be getting a nice fat pay from Tanya, which I'm sure she will give you since she's just so nice. And after that, you will be on your merry way as you journey back to… wherever it is you are from. And when you're finally back in your house and sitting in front of your hearth, with a cup of wine in one hand and a pretty girl's lips wrapped around your cock, all this gloomy talk of Greenskins and Waaaghs! will all be just a silly little conversation from the past!"
The Slayer simply stared at him blankly for a good long moment, blinking a couple of times. Before he let out a quiet sigh and looked to the side.
"I suppose you're right"
"See? I am aren't I?" Erik proudly said, giving him a knowing look. He gave him another friendly pat on the back before he finally turned around and walked off.
"Now let's go on ahead. I heard that Bertha will be serving some of her special roast mutton over at the inn and I don't want to miss it" Erik said enthusiastically. Relishing the prospect of some good food and drink after a hard day's work. Even better if he can get some Bretonnian arse for dessert as well. He would just have find a way to hide it from Tanya is all.
"Erik"
The young hunter halted in his steps and looked over his shoulder. "Aye?
"I wish to know. Should another... Waaagh, ever come to the Empire, then what will you do? What will the Empire do?" was the Slayer's simple question.
And one that Erik had little difficulty finding the answer to. Turning around to face the Goblin Slayer once more, he flashed the man a smile. Not one of his usual cocksure and arrogant smiles, but one of grim resignation. The look of a man long resigned to his fate, and was simply seeking to live as much of his short life before The End.
"What else? The same thing we have all been doing for the past two and a half thousand years" He then held out his arms to the side and spoke proudly. "We endure!"
And with that said, he turned around and left. Leaving a more thoughtful Goblin Slayer behind.
Later that night…
After tying up the large burlap sack securely, he went over to the nearby table and picked up his bag. And after making sure that all his other items were still inside, he strapped the small leather bag around his waist. He turned his attention back towards his person to check once more if his weapons were all in their proper place. And with that done, he took a moment to inspect his surroundings.
A small candle sat on the table near the side and served at the main source of light. The bed was already well made, with the sheets and blankets replaced with fresh ones. The floor had been properly swept and scrubbed clean, as well as the walls and even the door. The only items that could be found were a few knickknacks sitting within the small shelf near the corner, and the extra clothes that were furnished to him which were now properly stored within the small cabinet on the other side of the room.
He wanted to make the room as immaculate as possible, and that no trace of his presence was left behind. Not only was it the polite thing to do after being allowed to live here, it was also the best way to make sure that all memories of him would fade in time. Although one could say that his next plan would be considered most impolite, as well as hurtful. But it was for the best.
If he were to go through the front door, he would have to pass by the two sisters. And they would no doubt ask questions. He would then be compelled to answer, and his answer would displease them both. Perhaps even make them cry.
He did not want that. He did not want to see tears within their eyes nor hear them plead for him to stay. For it might compel him to obey. And then he would never be able to return home.
Reaching into his bag, he pulled out a scroll. It was just a simple roll of parchment, two feet in length and barely a foot in width. Something that any man could purchase from their local bookshop or library or even from a passing merchant. Unadorned as it was and tied only with a simple leather cord, one glance at this scroll would cause a person to turn their nose away from it, seeing it as not worth their time or money. And thus, fail to see it's true value.
For the power locked within this scroll had the potential to destroy entire armies in the blink of an eye, or even plunge a whole city into utter ruin, along with everyone in it.
But only if one were to use it for such a task of course. When used according to it's original purpose, it would only deliver one to his or her intended destination. No matter where it was and no matter how far. Caution was still advised though.
Such magic was hardly unheard of nor unique. A sufficiently powerful and knowledgeable Wizard could perform the same task with relative ease. And the most powerful of sorcerers could also recreate some of the destructive effects this scroll was capable of. But not every person possessed the gift of magic, and not every Wizard was equal. Years or even decades of careful study and intense training would be needed to reproduce some of the effects of this scroll. And even then, magic itself was fickle even in the best of times. Successful application was not a guarantee.
The Gate Scroll allows an ordinary person to circumvent all those normally impassable obstacles, and enable them to open a portal that would take them to any location they so wish. Even a little child with no magical talent or training could wield the power locked within it. And in the hands of one such as him, he could cut down even the most powerful of Daemons. He had already done such a feat before actually.
But he will not be using this Gate Scroll to destroy an enemy army. Nor will he be using it to plunge a Goblin infested citadel deep into the bowels of the earth. Nor will he be using it to disembowel another Daemon Lord. His purpose for it was more benign this time.
He untied the cord and slipped it off. And then with both hands, he started to slowly open the scroll. And a light was immediately unleashed from the scroll, almost blindingly bright, driving away the darkness as it flooded the room with it's ethereal glow. Once fully opened, the ancient and powerful enchantments locked within the scroll would create the portal that would allow him to return.
Return him to that same farm on the outskirts of the city, where his loved ones were waiting. And allow him to enjoy the peaceful life which he had long since fought for and bled for.
Knock! Knock!
But a sudden knock came from the door, causing him to quickly roll back the scroll, and shutting off the blindingly bright light in process. He turned slightly and looked towards the door, deathly silent, and feeling somewhat apprehensive.
"Goblin Slayer?" a familiar voice called out from the other side.
"Yes Lady Stahlhart?" he answered, turning towards the door fully whilst hiding the scroll behind his back.
"Is everything alright in there?" she asked once more, curious, yet also somewhat concerned. Has she noticed perhaps? That would not do.
"Yes my Lady. There is nothing to be worried about" was his firm and prompt answer. There was a short pause, as if she was considering his words and weighing them for falsehood. But just when he thought she would need more convincing.
"Very well" she finally spoke, more warm and cheerful this time. "Supper is ready. I made more that of stew you like, so please come join us while it's still warm"
"I will" he said to her, unable to fully suppress the pleasant feeling within his breast.
Seemingly satisfied with this, she finally left, her soft footfalls signaling her departure. His smile soon faded as he let out a quiet sigh. He brought out the scroll once more and stared at it. A thoughtful look upon his pale and scarred face.
Goblin Slayer… It still felt strange for him to be called that.
Even though it was he who introduced himself as such, he had only done so to give these people a means to address him, without having to use his true name. Because the truth of the matter was, he had not been called by that title for a long time now. Not since he had stopped being The Goblin Slayer, nearly ten years ago.
Circumstances had caused him to cast off that particular mantle. Chief of which had been the lack of Goblins to slay, a consequence of having hunted down and killed all of them within The Frontier and the lands beyond. The other cause was the sudden arrival of new responsibilities and obligations, ones that he simply could not abandon, not even for his grudge against the defilers in green.
So for him to be called a Goblin Slayer by these people was a bit odd and somewhat ironic. But it also made him nostalgic. Memories of his many adventures with his friends soon came to mind, of their joys and sorrows, their hardships and triumphs. It all served to bring a warm smile to his face.
That smile soon faded however. And his demeanor turned grim. His eyes as harsh and cold as the snowy mountain he once trained in.
His arrival in these lands have revealed a most unpleasant truth. That his personal crusade against the green enemy, one that he thought had long since ended, was actually far from over. He believed them extinct, gone forever and unable to threaten him and all that he held dear ever again. But no, instead there were more. Much, much more.
If what the sergeant had told him was true, then there was possibly millions, or even tens of millions of Goblins out there. Maybe even more. Enough to blanket every inch of The Frontier in a sea of green. It was too many. Far too many. He already knew how much suffering and death a hundred Goblins could inflict. How much more with a whole kingdom's worth of the green savages? Especially if they were united under a single massive horde and led by a capable Goblin Lord?
As loath as he was to admit it, the old sergeant was right. Even one such as he could not prevail against that many Goblins. Perhaps if he had his old companions with him, along with all the ranks of the Adventurer's Guild at his back, and with the assistance of the Sword Maiden, then perhaps he would prevail. But all of that was nothing but wishful thinking.
No, in this particular war, where he was in a distant and foreign land, all alone, there was no victory to be had. Only crushing defeat and an ignominious end. So his only proper course of action was to return home. Back to where there were no more Goblins. Where he would be at peace. Where he would be safe and content in the company of his loved ones.
And so you would leave the Empire to it's fate?
He let out a tired sigh as his face fell. He turned around and headed over to the window, stared into the darkened lands beyond, eyes saddened. Yes, he would leave this Empire to it's fate, because there was nothing he could do to save it. Just as the sergeant had said, what could he do that all the armies and heroes of this vast and mighty nation could not? He was only one man, and an ordinary one at that. While greater men than him have already tried, and failed. So what could he do better?
No, the Empire would fair well enough without him. As Erik had said, this nation and it's people will endure. It had already endured long before he arrived. And so it would endure long after he was gone.
And what of the people here? What of those two girls?
A frown formed upon his visage, eyes hardening. And the hand gripping the Gate Scroll tightened. They too did not need him. In about a week from now, the repairs upon the walls would be done, and the villagers would be safe again. Lady Tanya and Anna would also be safe. The militiamen here would not allow any harm to befall them. All will be alright.
And if you are mistaken? When the Goblins return, what then?
His face soon became unreadable, his gaze far away, though his heart began to beat faster and harder. His blood beginning to boil. When the Goblins do return, then they would triumph over them. They would survive.
But not unscathed. They might triumph, but they would also bleed. They might survive, yet they will suffer greatly for it. And they will wish the Goblins had killed them instead.
. . . No. It will not happen.
It will. And when that fateful day arrives, you will not be here to stop it. You will fail them. Just as you have failed your sister, and countless others like her.
His jaw tightened. His free hand gripped the hilt of his sword. And his crimson eyes started to glow once more. No. Such a thing will not come to pass. Not while he breathes. Not while he stands! Not while he still had the strength to swing his blade in defiance of fate!
Then what will you do?
He cast his stern gaze upwards. The skies above, which have always been covered by thick and ominous clouds, have begun to slowly part. Revealing for all to see the Green Moon. Looking very much like the singular eye of some titanic, dark entity peeking from behind the clouds, encompassing all under it's harsh, green gaze. And though it might be just a figment of his imagination, he swore that false moon was currently leering at him.
He glared hatefully at that damnable green rock in the sky, the ominous light from his crimson eyes growing harsher. He will not be running away, like a frightened dog with it's tail tucked between his legs. Not again. He would stand his ground and fight. He would do all within his power to protect the people here from those foul, menaces in green. Just as he had promised to Lady Tanya, he would keep them safe. No matter the cost.
Again, what will you do? Should the Goblins return, what will you do?
With his eyes still aglow, a smile slowly began to form upon his scarred and pale visage. Yet one that was devoid of any warmth or any kindness. Only cold, murderous intent, backed by a will that was stronger than steel.
"I will slay them all. Every last one of them"
No sooner when he uttered those words did the distant sounds of bestial howls and maddened screams tore through the cold night air. Almost as if made in proud challenge against his dire oath, done by countless hateful and malicious souls daring him to make good on his threats.
…And should anyone stand in your way?
With the same ominous smile upon his lips, and his grip upon his sword's hilt tightening, he declared. "They will either stand aside. Or die as well"
Yes, he cared not about the other beasts and monsters and vile creatures that infest this part of the world. Let some other glory-seeking fool who wish to make a name for himself deal with such wretches. The Goblins were his only real concern, for him they were the true enemy. All the rest were mere distractions, to be ignored and disregarded. But should anyone, or anything, seek to impede him, then he will remove them. By force of arms if need be.
"Good" a voice suddenly whispered to his ear, oozing with confidence and amusement. So achingly beautiful, yet so dreadfully wrong. "Make me proud, my Champion"
Quick as a flash, he turned around and drew his sword in one fast and fluid motion. Crouched slightly and with his blade poised to strike, he scanned his surrounding with cold and critical eyes. Darting to and fro from every shadow that danced under the daintily flickering flame of the nearby candle. Straining his senses, that had been seasoned through decades of bloodshed and battle, to spot even the tiniest hints of the mysterious entity that had spoken to him just now.
But no matter how much he searched, he found nothing. He was all alone inside the room. After sweeping his hawkish gaze across his surroundings for a moment longer, he finally allowed his guard to relax, standing straight once more. He knew not who, or what, that was just now. And if he were to be perfectly honest, he did not rightly care. So long as it does nothing to harm him or his charge, he will stay his blade.
He cast his sight towards the scroll still gripped within his hand, the light within his eyes already faded. The scroll was a bit crumpled due to his tight grip upon it. But upon loosening his hold, the simple looking scroll immediately retook it's original shape. A strange habit of magic scrolls, he noted.
He let out another tired sigh as he gazed upon the Gate Scroll sorrowfully. Feeling his heart tightening with guilt. As much as he hated being away from those he cared most, he had little choice but to remain here. At least for a while longer. All to keep them safe.
"Forgive me everyone. But I fear that I won't be coming home for a while" he said aloud to no one in particular, though hoping that his thoughts would somehow reach his friends.
Especially her. He would have a lot of explaining to do and a lot of apologies to make for taking so long to return to her side, though he considered it a small price to pay, and one that he would pay gladly. And he shall take comfort in the fact that every Goblin he will be killing from this day onward, would be one less that can harm her. With his new course set, he tucked away the Gate Scroll within his bag.
Now, if he was to begin his new campaign, he would need all the essentials. First, he needed weapons.
He cast his sights towards his sword. The blade was now showing signs of wear, with some parts of it's edge now slightly chipped and blunted. He would have to get this repaired, and soon. He won't be cutting many Goblins with this at it's current state. He returned the shortsword to it's sheath and then pulled out his twin, three-bladed daggers.
One was in the same state as his sword, sporting chipped edges and blunted tips on all three of it's curved blades. The other dagger was much worse off, having had one of it's curved blades broken off and the remaining two badly worn. Both of them would need to be repaired as well. If not, then he might need to get a replacement soon.
Returning both daggers to their respective sheaths, he then checked his throwing knives. He only had a total of six with him, all in various states of wear. Unlike his sword and daggers, they were easier to fix. But he would need to purchase more of them. At least a dozen more.
In fact, he would be needing more weapons. He would need more swords, both one handed and two handed, both straight edged and curved. He would need spears, both for fighting in melee and for throwing. He also need a warhammer, or even just a club, for dealing with armored targets. And he would also need a new longbow and at least six quivers each containing heavy war-arrows, both bodkin points and broadheads.
Basically, he needed a personal armory. Because he would not be killing many Goblins with only a few blades and knives. And since the number of Goblins he needed to fight and kill in the future would be enough to fill up several large cities to the brim, he needed plenty of weapons. Procuring them would not be difficult.
Next, he needed armor.
He walked over to the heavy sack that was still lying on the down, he untied the sack and opened it, revealing his armor stored inside. He picked up his helmet first. This simple horned helm had served both as his head protection as well as his second face ever since he first started Adventuring. Right now it was all battered and dented in several places, with a nasty looking gash near to the side, just above the eye slits.
Placing his helmet on the side, he pick up his breastplate. Similar to his helmet, his breastplate was also heavily battered and dented. But sported a much bigger rent upon it's surface. The mere sight of that long and clean cut upon his breastplate was enough to elicit a pained look from him, remembering the blade that sliced him open which burned as bright and as hot as the very sun.
Disregarding those thoughts, he set the breast plate aside and examined his shield. His targe was heavily dented and badly scratched, a result of having to deflect dozens of blows, some of which were particular heavy. This too would have to be hammered back into shape. If not, then a new replacement was needed.
His gauntlets, pauldrons and greaves were the ones next to pass through his critical inspection. And compared to his helmet and breastplate, they were in better shape, which was a bit of a relief for him. But upon picking up his chainmail, or the torn remains of it at least, he could not help but frown in disappointment. This one definitely required a replacement.
He hoped that the village had a decent enough blacksmith or armourer which could perform the repairs and necessary replacements to his personal protection. And hopefully, the price for their services would not be too steep. Otherwise, he might be forced to fight his future battles unarmored. A rather daunting prospect to be sure, and one that he very much prefer to avoid.
He began placing all the individual pieces of his armor back inside the sack, and tied it shut. Next he brought out his bag and opened it. He only had a total of five potions left, two healing potion and three stamina potions. He would have to find a skilled potion maker so he could purchase more. Failing that, he could also just steal more somewhere. Basically he needed to replenish his stock, otherwise he would be at a severe disadvantage in future engagements.
His Breath Ring would continue to serve him well, but he might need to start finding more magical items later on. Anything that he could find while out on the field which could help him slay Goblins, he would keep. The rest he would simply pawn off for more coin. Though he would also need to be wary of any cursed items. Which would also meant acquiring the services of a Wizard or Witch in the future.
And as for his Gate Scroll, he only had one left. He previously had three, but his past battle prior to his arrival in these lands had necessitated the use of two scrolls. And unfortunately he knew not if he would be able to find more. So his only remaining Gate Scroll would have to remain hidden and unused. It was his only way of ever getting back home, so he would much rather not waste it by using it to flood a Goblin nest, regardless of how tempting or gratifying it would be.
Putting his bag in place, he rose up and walked over to the window once more. Looking up, it was all dark clouds and starless skies up above, with the Green Moon having gone into hiding once again. Good. He could do without the distractions caused by that Daemonic orb in the sky. His face set into a frown, he allowed his mind to ponder one other problem he faced.
Even with proper armor and weapons and medical supplies, he would still be at a great disadvantage. Because unlike in his homeland, here in this Old World, the Goblins were much more numerous. If he were to go and hunt them down, he would be doing it alone, at least for the foreseeable future. For he had no allies or fellow Adventurers for him to call upon. And his old companions were not here.
He also could not trust the locals here to help him. Not only did he knew little about them, they did not trust him either nor were they particularly fond of him, so working with them would be difficult. His heated interactions with sergeant Wulfrik alone was proof of that. And besides, he could not afford to draw upon the already limited manpower of the Essental militia. Not without compromising the security of the villagers and that of the Stahlhart sisters.
So how was he to fight the Goblins in a more or less even footing, when the smallest nest or dwelling might very well house a whole tribe of at least a hundred, whilst he was all on his own?
Guns. That was the answer.
He had already personally witnessed the power of these so-called handguns and long-rifles, and he was most definitely impressed. A weapon that required very little skill and training to use, which allowed one to strike down an opponent from a safe distance with just a single shot, and could render a suit of full plate armor all but useless? The bane of every warrior.
Years or even decades of training and discipline rendered obsolete by a devious device that even a talentless peasant could wield and master in a weeks time. Rather frightening really. And for that, he wanted to have it. No, he needed to have it. He needed at least a dozen of such weapons with him and enough ammunition for all of them when tackling any Goblin slaying quests in the future.
The only problems he saw with firearms was that it was both very loud and very slow to reload. A single shot would immediately give away his position, robbing him of all the advantages that stealth provided. And from what he had seen, the gun needed about fifteen seconds to reload, allowing only four shots in under a minute, or five shots if one were particularly skilled. This stands in contrast to a bow which allows one to loose as many as twelve arrows in under minute, all the while being much more quiet.
But the advantages offered by a gun still outweighed it's obvious weaknesses. Weaknesses that he intended to remedy. Perhaps a trip to the old Master Gunsmith's workshop tomorrow would allow him to find the answers to this particular problem.
Knock! Knock! Knock!
A sudden knock from the door soon drew his attention. And no sooner did he turn around when the door opened, revealing a rather exasperated looking Anna Stahlhart.
"There you are!" she exclaimed as she stepped into the room. "We have been waiting for you for nearly an hour now! What kept you?"
Blinking a couple of times, he offered a faint little smile and bowed his head respectfully to her before seeking to placate his irate young charge. "Apologies. I was deep in thought"
Anna huffed, her pretty lips pouting. She walked over to him and grabbed his hand, and he simply allowed himself to be led away by the young girl.
"Come on you. The food is nearly cold and you haven't eaten anything yet since you left" Anna berated him as she pulled him out of the room and led him down the hallway. She cast him and annoyed look. "And what was it that got you so lost in thought anyway?"
"New ways to kill Goblins" came his simple yet perfectly honest answer.
And Anna groaned upon hearing that, shaking her head ruefully. "Goblins, goblins, goblins. It's always goblin with you. It seems you're truly doing your name of Goblin Slayer justice"
He gave no reply as he followed after the younger Stahlhart down the stairs, looking at her with a faint smile upon his face while trying to hide his amusement at her words. Though he would not exactly say he done much to truly earn his moniker, not after having cast it off for so long. And it was not exactly a famous title either. But considering his intentions towards every Goblin in the Old World, that would change soon enough.
Yes, he would be Goblin Slayer once more. And he would make sure that every Goblin would live in fear of his name. Not that any of them will live long to fear him.
Author's Notes: And hello again my lovelies! The latest chapter has finally arrived, and oh boy it would seem that our resident Orcbolg would have no rest for him the future. Not with how many Goblins there really are in the Old World. You think one ordinary guy with a very unhealthy obsession could do something that not even the Gods themselves could not?
Oh, and it would seem that GS got himself an adorable little helper, as well as a mysterious night time visitor. Man, not even a month into the Old World and the guy is already attracting attention huh? :D
Now, I had planned on releasing this chapter a lot sooner but a bad case of Writer's Block had kept my muse down. Though I hope this new one would still be enjoyable to you all to make up for the rather long wait.
Review Replies:
bwoodlord: And may bwoodlord be appeased by this small and humble offering. :D
Pasivenox: Thank you!Here's more! :D
human dragon: Papa Nurgle's plagues will not be enough to bring me down. Not while the God-Emperor still sits upon his Golden Throne ;). And this new one is a bit bigger than the last one and has more stuff happening in it so I hope you like it :D
kuranodesu: yeah, this definitely would count a little war story to entertain the grand kids someday. Haha.. Thanks for the well wishes man. Hope you like this new chapter.
Evowizard: Yeah, Wulfrik and GS will not be getting along for a while, since this old man is quite stubborn. But I'm sure he'll come around, and nothing brings guys together like a nice fight. But I'm glad you like my portrayal of the old sergeant so far. All I did was simply model him after my own in law XD.
And as for the bandit, well, the way the societies of the Old World is set up, it is practically a haven for criminals. Despite there being local militia, Road Wardens and Witch Hunters, there are still plenty of ways for criminals to not only survive, but also thrive. But yeah, I think Wulfrik and GS will be able to share this one too. Maybe become a way for them to grow closer. Or not.
samuelalpha89: Oh that's what you meant. Well, she has her reasons I'm sure. That and she's a very naughty little girl :D
NEETsoc: Yes, the nobles of The Empire are generally far better than their counterparts in the other nations. Certainly much better than the ones in Bretonnia. But with that said, not every noble is a good guy. And some of them can be downright nasty. Wulfrik appears to be speaking from experience here from what we can see.
Bowdan: Thank you for reading my story brother and I'm glad that your enjoying it. Now, I believe I have answered this particular matter in the past already. I am fully aware that Greenskins are asexual and that they reproduce via spores, at least according to the latest Warhammer 40k lore. But since this is a crossover with Goblin Slayer, you will be seeing both the normal spore spreading variety of Greenskin mix along with the less numerous but much more nastier rapey Gobbos. And there will be a good reason for why that is. Which will be revealed later on.
Guest: Thank you for your good wishes my man. To let you know, yes I am fully recovered now. Nurgle cannot hold me down forever :D So here's the latest chapter as proof of my resistance to him.
Dasneaky: Yo! Yeah, sorry for not having updated fast enough. My muse seemed to have left me these past couple of weeks. But now here is the latest chapter and I hope you will enjoy it as well. Oh, and once again, thanks a lot for your ideas. I like them and they are a big help, so keep it up. ;)
Austin: Hey buddy. Sorry for not having sent you a reply last chapter. But yes, you guessed it right. Though I appreciate all your thoughts and ideas, they do become rather overwhelming. In fact, whenever I see a giant wall of text sent my way in the reviews, my brain has a habit shutting off due to information overload. Especially if most of it is not even about the story.
And about your proposed crossover. Sorry to say this, but that little project is canceled. I have been having a difficult time lately in getting back to writing, and a third story would just really hold me back even more. So, my advice to you is, since you seem to have a much better idea on how to crossover Goblin Slayer with For Honor, it's best you make your own account and start writing it yourself. I can even beta read it for you if you want.
But yeah, no new stories for now. Not with how bad everything is in the world at the moment.
Angel Arcano92: Well, it all depend on what kind of bandit our Orcbolg will be going up against. The Old World is full of surprises after all
But about the Elves, I am gonna be posting a poll on that real soon. Cuz since I am still having trouble on which Elf I would partner with GS in the future, I will just let you and the other readers decide for me.
Be warned though, that depending on which Elf will join GSs eventual party, it will have a huge impact on his interactions with the other Elf races. For obvious reasons. So when you all cast your vote, think on it real well before you do.
Fortitude501: Then be prepared for more guessing games in the future :D. And yeah, it will be a while before Wulfrik and GS will get along.
Guest: A very astute observation and conclusion my friend. XD
Krysvun: haha! Surprised you huh? Conflict is ultimately at the heart of this story so expect lot's more unlikable characters in the future. And about Wulfrik's interactions, yeah, he is really one tough guy to please. Makes you wonder what it would really take to meet the old sergeant's standards huh? :D
Mistletainn: I'm glad to know you are not too against my portrayal of GS here. Know that it is not accidental the reasons for it will slowly be revealed as the story continues. But as you can see here, though he is older, some of the scars are still there. And it's a bit of a toss up if those scars will heal, or get a whole lot worse.
As for the girls, I'm glad you like my female OCs so far. Know that they will be more assertive than the canon ones, but I'm afraid they too will run in to the same problems the canon girls faced with GS. We will see how they fair :D
Guest: haha! Yeah I thought about that as well. Maybe I would have someone do just that to activate Goblin Slayer's god mode. Anyhow, thank for reading my work buddy. Hope you enjoy this one as well.
rc48177: Wise words to live by.
XXxxxadisxxxXX: Opens up email and reads new review. Then sees this line "Oh god he's so fucking hot, holy shit he's so strunk, oh god how can I use 200 more words to suck off GS cock in my head." Muahaahahahah! XD XD XD
Dude, you really cracked me up with that. Though I have been expecting some bad reviews towards my OC girls. Now, you said that ended up skipping entire paragraphs because you found the inner thoughts of the girls towards GS to be ridiculous. Well, I think you might have skipped far too many paragraphs though, cuz their reasons for getting attracted to Orcbolg was definitely given. Though I admit I might have made their romantic feelings towards GS a little too developed in too short a time.
But you won't have to worry much about that, because this story of mine is ultimately about the fighting and the killing and you won't be seeing much actual romance here. Though I cannot promise that there won't be any actual nut ridding and genital sucking here though. XD. This is Warhammer after all. Lot's of crazy and ridiculous shit in abundance. :D
And that's it for now folks. Stay tune for the next chapter. Hope you all enjoyed my story and please, don't be afraid to leave a review and share your thoughts. Stay safe all and stay healthy.