A tangible black rage engulfed Peter. His sense of fear and loss was washed aside, replaced with the singular focus of killing the goblin who had dared attack his wife.

Peter roared as he sprinted from his place of hiding, not caring that it announced his position and obliterated his advantage of surprise.

The goblin reacted with shock at Peter’s sudden appearance but quickly drew a dagger in response. It showed no concern over the feral hatred in Peter’s eyes, even having the audacity to grin when Peter arrived and swung his sword at the goblin in a great overhead chop.

It was almost comical, the ease with which the goblin parried aside his clumsy blow, causing him to stumble off-balance. The motion brought Peter’s head down towards the goblin’s, and the creature took advantage by smashing its forehead into Peter’s face, the loud squelching noise and shock of his nose being crushed causing Peter to stumble to the ground.

Wasting no time, the goblin stabbed its knife down towards Peter’s chest, intent on finishing the fight quickly. Peter knew what was coming and responded with wild, unskilled swings that caused the goblin to back away from Peter’s prone form before coming in with a different attack. Peter tried his defence again, but this time the goblin’s attack was a feint. In a flash, the veteran goblin slammed Peter’s short sword to the ground and stomped on the blade, pinning it to the forest floor.

With his weapon now trapped, the goblin again tried to stab Peter, but he reacted instinctively, bringing up his left arm to block the attack. While he was successful in blocking the blow, it came at a price as the blade plunged between the bones of Peter's forearm, slicing through flesh and muscle to emerge on the other side.

Peter roared in pain. The agony of that dagger wound should have sent him into a panic. And 30 seconds ago, it would have. But since then, Peter had witnessed this pissant goblin throw a spear into Beth, his Beth, and instead of the pain scaring him off, it was like the spark that ignited the Hindenburg.

Before the goblin could withdraw the dagger from his arm, Peter’s roar of pain transformed into one of fury. With a vicious twisted of his arm, Peter used his own bones as a prybar to wrench the weapon out of the goblin’s grip. The creature immediately knew that it had lost its advantageous position, but before it was able to put space between itself and Peter, the large man grabbed the goblin by the ankle and yanked, tripping up the creature and causing it to fall onto its back. The monster kicked at Peter’s face and hands in an attempt to loosen the death-grip on its ankle, but Peter ignored the blows, pulling himself onto his stomach and dragging the goblin towards him.

Constitution +1

Oh, wow. You are definitely going to feel that in the morning.

Now Peter’s vastly superior bulk came into play. As he got himself onto the goblin’s legs, the creature could do little but squirm as Peter clawed his way up to the creature’s chest. Now straddling the goblin, Peter began raining punches down onto the face of the creature who had killed Beth, his mind clouded by the visions of his life with the woman. Their first meeting. Finding out she was pregnant. Resolving to make it work. The birth of the kids. Summer vacations. In his sorrow and rage, Peter was only vaguely aware of the pain in his left arm every time he punched with it.

NEW FIGHTING STYLE LEARNED!

Brawling – Skill Level 11 (Tier-I)

Oookay? Clearly, you had a rougher childhood than your son.

Tier-I Bonus: Reduced chance of knuckle damage.

*Since this Skill predates your arrival in Arenia, it has been set at a level commensurate with the practical ability you already possess.

650 XP Earned (cumulative)

At some point, the goblin got hold of the dagger still lodged in Peter’s arm, but Peter put a quick end to that by biting the goblin’s hand until it let go. The event drew Peter’s attention to the dagger though, and he unthinkingly yanked the blade free of his arm and started stabbing the goblin over and over, completely oblivious to the creature’s squeals of pain as he reduced it to a shredded pulp. He didn't even notice when the sounds stopped entirely.

NEW WEAPON SKILL LEARNED!

Small Blades – Skill Level 1 (Tier-0)

It’s not pretty, but you’re getting the job done.

50 XP Earned

Small Blades Skill Increased to Level 2 (Tier-0)

Loving the enthusiasm there, big guy!

1-Handed Weapons Skill Increased to Level 5 (Tier-0)

Uh, Peter?

Small Blades Skill Increased to Level 3 (Tier-0)

If this continues much further, I may need to grant you the Painting skill.

150 XP Earned (cumulative)

You have slain a Level 5 Goblin Scout.

Yay. You got your first kill, and I got a story to share with my therapist.

300 XP Earned

How long Peter stabbed the goblin, he couldn’t say. Eventually, an iron grip clamped around his wrist, easily stopping his assault. Peter looked up with wild eyes, only to discover Eliza looming over him.

“Peter!” she shouted. “You need to stop mangling that corpse and help me if you want Beth to live!”

“She’s… alive?” Peter said, his brain reluctantly coming back to reality.

“Not for much longer if we don’t hurry. I need your help.”

“Right…” Peter said, the battle fog slowly lifting. “Right. What do you need me to do?”

“Get to the goblin camp and gather every spear you can find, then bring them to me.”

There was no need to respond. Peter leapt off the goblin’s corpse and sprinted into the camp.

All the goblins were dead. There were only three corpses, one of whom was much bigger than the others. It had an arrow clean through its skull. Apparently size hadn’t helped it much. The other two had been felled with only three more arrows, a testament to Eliza’s clinical skill with the bow.

Racing around the camp, Peter gathered every spear he could find. There were four, but the two on the ground beside the leader were significantly thicker than the others. It was awkward to carry them all, but Peter wasted no time sprinting back to where Beth had fallen. His path took him past the goblin he’d killed, and he had to fight back a wave of nausea at the sight. In his rage, he had nearly decapitated the creature. Everything from the chest upwards was a pulped mess. It was hard to reconcile that he was the agent of such a gruesome act.

When Peter reached his fallen wife, he saw that Eliza had hacked the spear off in Beth’s back, leaving only a nub that projected out by a hand’s length. She had also stacked a bunch of hemlock boughs next to her for some reason.

“Good,” Eliza said when Peter returned. “Take the skinnier spears and snap them in thirds.” Without watching to see if Peter understood, she took the larger spears and lay them on the ground about half a metre apart, crossing them at one end so that they ended up looking like a V with nubs at the bottom. Then she grabbed the longest broken piece of spear Peter had created—he’d needed to break them with his foot against a log—and laid it near the widest part of the V.

Grabbing a ball of twine from her pack, Eliza quickly began to lash the wood together. Her hands moved with such expertise and precision that Peter even got a Skill notification and, to his surprise, a boost in Renown.

NEW GENERAL SKILL LEARNED!

Rope Use – Skill Level 8 (Tier-0)

Howdy pardner! Y’all done some farm work… mebbe you can wrangle up a new filly if this one don’t pull through.

Err… too soon?

*Since this Skill predates your arrival in Arenia, it has been set at a level commensurate with the practical ability you already possess.

400 XP Earned (cumulative)

RENOWN LEVEL UP!

Level 6 Achieved

XP: 5,400

XP to next Renown: 2,000

Eliza spared a glance at Peter before refocusing on her work.

“This will go faster if I do it,” she said. “If you want to help, go cut the right ear off each of the goblins. The one with notches in it. Make sure you get them all—there was a second sentry in the woods just north of camp.”

“Bounties?” Peter said, incredulous that she could think of money at a time like this.

“Something like that.”

“But—”

“Are you going to listen to the woman who’s trying to save your wife’s life or not?” Eliza snapped. Chagrined, Peter headed back to the camp. “And get my sword!” she shouted at his retreating form.

Peter scrambled back to the camp and set to the grizzly work. It didn’t take long, disturbing as it was. The ear from the goblin he’d killed was pretty mangled, but he cut it off anyway, not knowing the purpose of the ears to begin with. With a shove, he jammed the hard, green appendages into his pack and hurried back to Eliza and Beth.

During his absence, Eliza had lashed the thicker spears together where they crossed over at the tip of the V, then lashed the broken spears crosswise to create a stable triangular platform. She’d then covered the entire thing in the hemlock boughs to create a makeshift stretcher.

Together, Peter and Eliza carefully lifted Beth onto the stretcher, keeping her face-down, with the sawed-off spear poking skyward out of her back.

“Peter…” Beth whispered. He hurried to her and held her hand. When she felt him there, she gave a small smile. “I don’t feel so good, honey. Think I got stung by a bee.”

He smiled back at her. “Yeah. Big bee. The stinger’s still in there, so we’re gonna take care of it. You try and stay awake.”

“M’kay,” Beth said before promptly passing out.

Eliza waved Peter to the small end of the stretcher while she took the wider handles where the bulk of Beth’s weight would lie.

“Shouldn’t I—” Peter started.

“No, you shouldn’t,” Eliza said. “I have a hell of a lot higher Strength score than you, no matter what appearances suggest. Don’t judge by appearances in Arenia, or it could be the end of you. You just follow, look out for roots, and try to keep up.”

Much to Peter’s surprise, Eliza broke into a jog. He was able to keep up, barely, but he was deeply concerned about jostling Beth. He had faith in Eliza’s judgment, though. If the Ranger thought speed was more important than stability, there had to be a good reason.

For the first 15 minutes of the trip, Beth would fidget and moan. For the second 15 minutes, she stopped fidgeting and simply moaned. By the time a half-hour had passed, she wasn’t even moaning anymore. Peter was deeply concerned that she’d died, but if she was alive, stopping to check would only be harmful. So they ran.

Another 10 minutes went by. Peter’s legs screamed at him, and his arms ached, especially where the muscles were lacerated from the goblin’s knife. The only time they stopped was when Peter voiced concern that the blood on his hands would cause his fingers to slip. Eliza’s solution was to lash Peter’s good hand to the stretcher so that he wouldn’t drop it. Now they were white from a lack of blood flow, and his grip had almost given out completely. But Peter wouldn’t stop or complain. He would collapse dead on the ground before he gave up on Beth.

Endurance +1

Sure, your wife got stabbed through the back with a spear, but you’ve spent years stabbing yourself in the heart with cheeseburgers. It’s 50/50 as to which of those things is going to kill someone tonight.

They continued all the way to the far side of the bowl, never slowing their pace despite the darkening night and miserable conditions. Peter’s mind began to dissociate, simply focusing on getting one step in front of the other. So it was that when Eliza finally ordered a halt, she had to shout at him several times to get him to stop.

Peter stumbled and nodded blankly, then looked around.

They were just below a small pass in the hills. Tall green grasses and birch trees grew to either side of the path, and unlike most of their journey, they were now on an actual trail. Peter followed Eliza’s directions and deposited Beth to the side of the path. The older woman darted into the bushes, disappearing to god-knows-where while Peter used his teeth to work at the knots that held him bound to the stretcher.

As soon as he got himself free, he slid up next to his wife, unable to muster the energy to stand.

“Come on, honey,” he whispered. He felt at her throat. There was a pulse, but it was so weak. “You can do it. Just hold on a bit longer, okay? We need you.”

It felt like forever for Eliza to return. When she did arrive, she was carrying a large bag in one hand and a full quiver in the other. Dropping to her knees beside Beth, Eliza dumped the contents of the bag on the ground, rummaging through them until she found a small blue bottle. It looked like the health potion Peter had taken when he first got to Arenia, but lacked the odd swirling.

Eliza held up the vial and looked seriously at Peter. “We only get one chance here. I have a mild healing spell, but it’s not enough to close a wound like this. That’s why I left the spear in—to prevent bleeding. The problem is, Beth won’t heal with that spear in her, so I’m going to pull it out and immediately cast my spell. Hopefully, that will be enough to keep her alive while you administer the healing potion. Understood?”

“How do I get her to drink? She’s unconscious,” Peter said.

“Use this,” she said, handing a small bag to Peter. “Just hold it under her nose and she’ll wake up.”

Peter looked at the bag and took a whiff, reeling back immediately. “Oof, smelling salts. Got it.”

“Salt? Why would someone… never mind,” Eliza said. “On the count of three. One… two… three!”

Eliza yanked the spear out of Beth’s back and immediately mumbled something under her breath, a soft golden glow emanating from her hand and sinking into Beth’s torn flesh. As soon as the spell went to work, Beth’s eyebrows pulled together and she started mumbling something, but Peter shoved the smelling salts under her nose, snapping her eyes fully open.

“What…?” Beth whispered, looking at Peter. Then her eyes widened. “Oh, god… it hurts…”

“Drink,” Peter said, shoving the potion against her lips. Beth tried to pull away, but Peter was insistent. “Drink! It’s a health potion, just like when I nearly died. Please, please, you have to drink it!”

The words somehow seeped through Beth’s fading consciousness, and she allowed him to feed her the potion. Peter tilted it back, resisting the urge to dump it all into her mouth immediately, knowing that would only result in her spitting it out.

When the potion was fully consumed, Peter lay her head back down on the dirt, watching her eyes close as she returned to sleep.

“Did it work?” Peter asked. He’d expected the same kind of miraculous healing he’d experienced, but it didn’t look like anything was happening.

Looking at Eliza, he saw that she was smiling.

“Yes, it worked,” she said. “A healing potion like that takes time though. She’ll sleep through the night while she heals, and she’ll probably have some soreness in those muscles for a long time to come. Meanwhile, we’ll make camp and give her a fire to stay warm.”

The thought made Peter nervous. “Isn’t a fire risky? I don’t want to bring in any more goblins.”

Eliza shook her head. “We covered a lot of ground in that run. We’re close enough to Palmyre that we should be able to risk a small fire without calling up trouble. And if we do, well, this old gal has a lot of surprises. Never attack a Ranger at her cache.”

Peter cocked his head. “Wait, what? We’re close to Palmyre?”

Eliza grinned. “Yep. If you climb to the top of the pass there, you’d be able to see the lights from here.

It was an enticing prospect, even with the ragged state Peter was in, but he shook his head. “No, I don’t think so.” He picked up Beth’s hand and held it. “I think I’ll wait to see it with my wife.”