A loud, dry crack broke the uncomfortable silence as Dasher crept unsteadily through the swaying tall grass. The goblin stopped dead in his tracks as he looked down and slowly lifted his right foot, the unkempt boot revealed a mangled twig as bits and pieces of the dry wood clung to his footwear.

With a nervous glance to make sure that no one had heard his blunder, Dasher carefully placed his foot back onto the ground and continued on his journey. While he was relieved that he had not stepped on anything that would cause undue harm to his body the goblin was unsure as to how he would be able to detect any nearby threats as the wild grass that he now found himself in was at a height well above his own, even if he were to jump with all of his might the goblin would not be able to peak above their soft and bushy stalks.

Dasher took a deep breath as he thought about the course of events over the past several days since his departure from the human encampment.

With what little food he had started off with, the goblin had somehow managed to devour it all within the span of two days, or through the cruel gaze of the gods lost what little he had managed to save for a dire situation in a manner that could only be described as ineptitude.

It has been well over a full day since Dasher had a decently sized meal and his stomach growled as a reminder of that fact. He needed to find a source of food that would help stave off the oncoming hunger, but he had the trouble of being unable to recognize what was, or wasn’t, edible.

While he knew that his journey would be a challenging one, it had proven to be beyond exhausting to both his body and mind.

Dasher stopped to think and brought a worried hand to the back of his head, the bristles from the arrows fletching’s scratched at his scarred hands while he scraped his nails against his ruffled and unwashed hair.

The wind picked up and caused the nearby wild grass to sway freely in its gentle grasp.

The goblin returned his gaze towards his mud-caked and disheveled boots as he stared mindlessly at the ground as his thoughts began to dawdle on the heavy burden that had been placed upon his shoulders.

‘Am I worthy?’ Dasher asked himself as his fingers tapped at the bow slung across his back. ‘Did the Tall Lady even mean for me to survive for this long? What if her visions had been meant for someone else and not me, what would happen if I were to end up dead in some carved out hole I made?’

Dread and self-defeat threatened to spill forth into the back of his mind as Dasher took a wearily step forward. His eyes remained locked to the ground as his boots clamored forward in his directionless journey.

Worries, thoughts of guilt, and endless doom and gloom coalesced into his mind as he continued to take each and every step.

How would he even begin to fulfill the prophecy given unto him if he couldn’t even manage to feed himself? What purpose did he have in being here if there was no way for him to understand what he must do?

‘Is this all a lie,’ He wandered as dread began to creep into his mind. ‘Is this all a dream, made up by my dying mind as my battered body lies in its own filth; waiting for my last breath to give before darkness overtakes me?’

His newfound fate, of which a living avatar of a divine being had handed down to him, felt too surreal to be true. Why would any of the gods single out a lone goblin to bear forth their holy message, only for that very same chosen creature to live with the doubts and fears of a sniveling coward? What use was he if all he ever did was question the divine will of the gods that reigned over this world?

One of those beings must have heard the goblins doubts as the evenings dying light suddenly turned into a blinding infernal.

As Dasher brought a hand forward to cover his eyes, he looked up and stared at the top of a hill. The goblin squinted his eyes and craned his neck upwards as he could barely make out a lone shadow that lay still at the crest of the hill.

The bright rays made it difficult to make out, but Dasher was all too familiar with the shape that lay before him.

A massive warg lay unsteadily at the top of the mound and stared wearily at the goblin, and it wasn’t any warg for that matter either, but a warg with fur as white as snow that glistened against the days dying light.

Dasher widened his eyes in disbelief and tried to blink away at what he thought was a trick being played on his weary mind. He shook his head in pure astonishment as the creature failed to vanish from his sight and with all sense of self-preservation having vacated his mind, Dasher took a step forward into uncertainty.

His body failed to stop until it had come into close proximity with the creature. The lone warg looked up and stared into the goblin's eyes as the two of them came face to face with only a single step separating them from one another.

It was here that Dasher took a deep breath as his thoughts returned to what the elven magic chucka had said to him. If this was the creature the Tall Lady had intended for him to save, then there must be something wrong with it.

With that in mind, the goblin looked down at the weary creature and scanned its snow-white form in great detail. A trail of blood could be seen oozing from a wound near its hind legs, and a deep gash ran across the length of its back.

There were no other wounds for as far as Dasher could tell, but that didn't mean that the creature had any more for him to worry about. He decided that it was for the best if he focused on the wounds that lay before him.

He ran a finger along the edge of the wound, causing the warg to produce a low growl as it readied itself for any potential harm that came from its newfound visitor.

"Easy there," Dasher said as calmly as he could while he drew back the curious limb. "I'm not here to hurt ya."

The warg looked at the goblin with a hard, disbelieving stare as it let out an exhausted huff of air.

Whether or not it had understood what Dasher had said, the warg lowered its head to the ground and looked away from the prying goblin.

"Alright," The goblin said with a great sigh of relief as he slung the straps off of his shoulders and gently placed the various items onto the nearby ground. "What do I use?"

As he peaked inside what he assumed to be the medicinal bag provided to him, Dasher saw several items that could be of possible use.

The first item or items in this case were several rolls of some sort of powdered cloth, which were soft to his callused hands and very pliable under the movements of his fingers. The second item was a metallic jar with an even smaller lid. Dasher assumed that the strange shapes and symbols scrawled onto its surface was some form of writing and that whatever message they intended to get across was lost on him. He couldn't even read or write his own language, to say that he could even to attempt to understand the language of the elves would be beyond absurd.

Besides, he didn't want to imagine what foul horrors the elves wished to spread through such a mind boggling tongue.

With another quick glance inside of the bag's contents, Dasher concluded that the rest of the items were of no use to him at the moment and he decided that it would be best for him to save them for future use.

For now, he closed the bag and grabbed a single roll of the powdered cloth as well as the strange nightmare inducing jar, and set about doing his best to tend to the creature's wounds.

As he placed the jar on the ground, Dasher unfurled the cloth over his hands and carefully inched his way towards the injured creature's hindquarters. However, he stopped once he realized that he had no clue as to how to apply the item in question.

He grunted in frustration as he gently placed the powdered cloth over the 'creature's leg, blood flowed steadily out of its wound as the goblin second-guessed his medical skills. With a shake of his head, the now stained cloth was pulled close to his chest as Dasher wondered as to how to apply the strange item.

Taking charge for a second time, Dasher returned the bloodied cloth over the creatures wounded leg and slowly wrapped the material around the source of the flowing blood.

He stopped once he caught sight of the jar in the corner of his eyes.

The goblin allowed the soft material to hang freely around the wargs leg as he reached towards the container, curious as to what it contained. Without a fuss, the jar opened with a soft pop.

Peering inside the jar, Dasher saw a smooth yet slimy clay like material that glistened in the waning sun. Curious as to what it was, he brought the jar close to his nose and gave it a quick whiff. After a short time, Dasher realized that he 'couldn't smell anything and decided that there would be no harm in him placing the stuff over the wounds.

Whatever the stuff was, it was almost revolting for the goblin to touch. Dasher's fingers dug into the soft and gooey material without issue, and the goblin carefully applied the sticky substance over the wounded areas.

Eventually, the goblin became satisfied with his work and tossed the container down the hill and out of his sight. Now all he had to do was finish his work with the wargs leg and set about wrapping the remainder of the powdered cloth around the 'creature's chest.

Such a task 'didn't take him longer than an hour, and the goblin now stood triumphantly over the bandaged warg as he admired his handiwork. There were a few strands of the powdered cloth that hung loosely off of the 'creature's sides as well as a handful of places where Dasher 'couldn't quite get it tight enough, but the injured creature looked to be far more at ease than it had previously been.

With a satisfied nod, Dasher patted himself on the chest as he watched the 'creature's chest rise and fall while it drifted off into sleep.

The misplaced jubilation over a job well done was misplaced; however, as his stomach rumbled in hunger. The lack of food and approaching starvation had yet to be addressed, and his body reminded him of this fact.

With a growing frown and a hastily approaching nightfall, Dasher got down onto his knees and crawled up against the slumbering beast. With a sigh of frustration, he tilted back his head and watched as the stars slowly blinked into existence.

The issue of filling his stomach would have to wait until morning.

“-And with the matter of the bridge out of the way, we can conclude this evening’s meeting. You gentlemen may stay or go as you wish.”

Captain Boris moved the stack of papers he was holding towards a makeshift desk as he dismissed his officers for the day. Paperwork wasn’t something he would say he was fond of, but it was something that he had grown accustomed to over the past half year since being tasked with leading the expedition.

He may not like it, but he understood that there was a time and a place for bookkeeping.

As he finished putting away the various papers, Captain Boris caught a glimpse of his lieutenants staring at him in utter silence. All of his lieutenants.

Slowly, he brought his hands to the front of his chest and gently placed them over his makeshift desk. Without saying a word, the grizzled veteran scanned each and every one of the men’s faces. “I assume there’s a reason for the lot of you to still be here.” The man said as he continued to bring his gaze over their cold stares.

A few of the men nodded in silence but most kept to themselves as they waited for someone to speak up for all of them.

Captain Boris would not be at all surprised if he were to learn that this had been preplanned.

“It’s about the reports from the gate guards,” The rumbling tone of Sergeant Kurinov called out from within the crowd of faces. “There was another sighting before this meeting began. That makes it the third of its kind if just as many days.”

“I see,” Boris said as he tapped a finger over the desk, he had wondered what the men wanted to speak to him about, but he knew that he wouldn’t have to wait long for him to receive the answer he sought. “And I’m assuming that the guards are claiming that it’s the same rider, the one riding a warg with an old scar slashed across its side?”

A few of the men nodded their heads as another voice spoke up. “The men are claiming that it’s in league with the goblin that the young miss had saved.” The owner of the voice leaned forward as he spoke. A deep scowl was embedded over Sergeant Dmitry’s face. He was a hard man, with a face that not even a mother could love. “There’s talk that the creature is in league with the orc, and that it was sent from whatever hellspawn the grey-skinned monster comes from.”

With that said, a few agreeing mumblings echoed throughout the tent as more men began to speak up and express their misgivings about letting the goblin leave the encampment alive.

“The girl was naïve to let it free.”

“Some of the men are even claiming that the sorceress is the one behind all of this.”

More and more rumors began to fill the air as their voices grew louder and more desperate to vent their frustrations over the entire existence of the expedition into such an obvious death sentence.

It wouldn’t be long before Captain Boris had a riot on his hands.

“Enough!” Bellowed the expedition’s leader as he slammed a fist against the desktop.

As the men slowly settled down, the grizzled captain silently shook his head and looked at the men for a second time with disappointment in his eyes. He was of the belief that the men under his command were not the sort to give into such baseless rumors and wild accusations, but he could now see that he might have been wrong to think so highly of the officers placed under his care. Captain Boris closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose while the last of the disgruntled soldiers finally quieted themselves.

“Now then, I understand that these are the sorts of rumors one would hear among the peasantry or common foot soldier of our great kingdom,” The captain said in a relaxed tone as he looked at each and every one of his officers. “But I find it hard to believe that the very lifeblood of this kingdoms army would be so careless as to foam at the mouth and repeat such vile filth.”

The men were none too happy to be spoken to in such a manner, but they remained quiet as their commander readied himself to speak more on the matter. Captain Boris understood that if he had any hope of quelling any future unrest over the matter of this mysterious rider, then he needed to do it here and now.

“As of right now I’m not going to punish the men for spreading these rumors,” He said as he rubbed the back of his head in a tired gesture. “But if it continues to get out of hand and there is unrest then I won’t be slow in bringing my judgment down upon the ringleaders who wish to bring harm to our home away from home. Is that understood?”

The men nodded their heads and grumbled out meager responses, but most seemed satisfied with what their commander had said. There were a few who looked to one another, but Captain Boris made a mental note to keep a careful eye on those men.

He needed loyalty and stability from his soldiers, not treachery and murderous intent.

“Very good then,” The grey-haired soldier said. “Now having said all of that, I believe its best if we increase patrols around the camp and reinforce the number of men we have on each watch. I don’t want to give any credence to the worries of any future attacks, but we must be prepared for such an occasion, especially once the kingdom decides to grace with the presence of the royal cartographer. Are there any final thoughts on the matter?”

Captain Boris was surprised to see that not a single soul dared to speak up and offer their input. There were a few menacing glares offered his way, but the man was satisfied that the matter was over and done with. For now.

“Very well then,” The captain said as he stood and made it clear to those in the command tent that he was finished with them for the night. “Gentlemen, have a good rest of your evening.”

Despite trying his best to keep the rising morning sun from waking him from his sorely needed slumber, Dasher struggled to keep his eyes shut and ever so slowly he opened them to a bright and sunny world that was ready for the groggy goblin.

The rays of the early morning sun weren't the only thing to awaken the goblin, however.

The vicious sounds of gnashing teeth tearing into something slick and tender assaulted Dasher's ears as the goblin rose from the ground as he scanned the nearby area for the source of the stomach churning sound.

Dasher could only assume that a nearby predator had snagged itself an early morning meal and was now satiating its hunger.

As the goblin rose to his feet, he kept a hand over his eyes as he tried in vain to keep the disgustingly bright sun away from his eyes. Dasher grunted in frustration as he failed spectacularly and looked down at the ground as he blinked away the dazzling dots that flooded his vision. As his vision slowly returned, the continuous sounds of the chomping devourer continued to assail his ears.

With his hand still over his eyes, Dasher looked towards where he believed the sound to be coming from and a wave of relief washed over him as he saw the bandaged back of the white warg.

The creature was either unconcerned about the goblin or was too focused on its meal as Dasher watched in awe as it devoured the corpse of a half-eaten buck. Its head twisted and pulled at the body of its prey as large, bloody chunks of meat hung from its clenched and bloodied jaws.

As if by instinct, the bloodied warg turned its head and looked back at the goblin as it continued to tear away at the large mass of fat and meat that barely clung to its teeth. The ravenous creature did nothing save for continuing to eat its meal as the two of them stared at one another.

A cold breeze swept through the air as Dasher's stomach growled at the sight of the half-devoured pile of blood and flesh.

With an uninterested stare, the warg turned away from its savior and growled towards the body of a recently slain doe. Pools of blood flowed from its savaged neck and crushed skull as Dasher looked between the two, unsure if the white warg meant for him to do as he pleased with the corpse.

As fat and chunks of meat rolled down its bloodied jaw, the warg flared its nostrils and motioned towards the nearly decapitated doe. This was its way of repaying the goblin for what it had done.

If Dasher had any lingering thoughts of unwillingness to accept the thankful beasts offering, then they had vanished without a trace as his stomach growled for a second time. A hearty meal was right in front of his eyes, and all that he needed to do was prepare it, it was something that he couldn't dare to pass up.

With one final glance at the warg, Dasher gave in to his temptations and set about readying breakfast.