Devin Tenfingers crouched in the underbrush on the outskirts of the goblin camp. The camp itself was a massive ordeal, stretching hundreds of feet in front of him. Lucky for him and his crew, the main force had marched out on raids, leaving a small contingent with their leader.

He chuckled silently to himself. This payday would be great, over two thousand silvers for a simple goblin leader! Now, he waited, confident his team was in position. When the leader stepped out from his ratty, flea and fur covered hovel he called a tent they would spring into action. Was it a he? You could never tell when it came to goblins. They were all wiry, filthy beings anyways. Well, most were. This one was particularly fat, its stomach pushing against a belt that had no business somehow holding itself together.

Devin shook his head, clearing the distracting thoughts. He needed to remain focused on the task at hand. Above him clouds crossed the sky, flashes of blue coming through the light grey swirls. The slightest brush of air came in over the camp, bringing with it all the foul stenches of goblins. He pulled his bandana up from his neck over his mouth, glad he came prepared to combat the smells.

A rustling noise sounded and he snapped his attention towards the tent entrance. Two poles held open a makeshift door, leading into a large square tent. The flaps rustled some more, and a large goblin stepped through. The humanoid creature was dressed in rags made of both furred and non-furred skins. Devin shuddered as he caught glimpses of some pink and brown skins he suspected to be human.

The goblin leader took a few steps forward and held its staff aloft. The staff was a sickly looking weapon made from the ribs of conquered things, adorned with the skull of a wolf. Stringy bits of dried flesh clung to the shaft. Shaking the weapon around, the goblin let out a few calls, making grunting noises that reminded Devin of a pig farm he’d once been forced to sleep in.

He glanced around at the ring of bushes and low trees surrounding this end of the camp. Where the hell were Griff and Murton? Once the stupid goblin stepped out they should have jumped on him, starting the ambush. Devin closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The stupid bastards were probably bickering over who got to charge in first. His eyes snapped back open when a crashing sounded from the brush to his left.

“I’ll cut yer stump of a head from that pignecked thing you call a body you little shit!” Murton came barreling into the camp, his massive axe held high above his head. Hot on his tail Griff was sprinting toward the goblin king as well, shield raised before him and sword held low. With his massive size, Griff stood taller by a head than most men Devin knew, he caught up to the dwarf with the axe and passed him easily.

“Hey! That’s not fair! We agreed I’d get the first swing ya bloody giant of a man!” Murton called after him.

Griff just roared in response as he neared the goblin. The green skinned leader was frozen in place by shock, but recovered as the roar escaped Griff. It shrieked and tried to turn back towards the tent. Two other goblins spilled from the tent wielding crude spears of bone and rusted iron. They wore rusted breastplates and greaves that screeched with every move.

“Show time,” Devin whispered as he sprang into action.

He ran toward the right side of the clearing, away from the tent and goblin leader, and toward a small path leading toward the main camp of goblins. He sent a silent prayer up to whichever god happened to be listening that goblin leaders were a haughty bunch and preferred to be away from the main group. He stole a glance back at the leader and grinned.

Griff had the leader on the ground and was pounding his face with his ironwood shield, crafted from the Metal Trees of Darthin Island. Devin was sure the leader was dead, but he knew that would not stop Griff. Bits of blood and goblin were beginning to splatter on Griff. That, along with the dancing fire, made him seem an otherworldly demon of violence and bloodlust.

Murton was swinging his axe at the remaining goblin guard, bellowing incoherently. The first guard lay in two pieces, sundered by the massive axe the dwarf insisted on using for everything, even cutting his meals. The goblin brought its spear up in a feeble attempt to block the wedge of metal screaming towards it. The axe went through the spears shaft like nothing and cleaved the goblin in two. It seemed almost surprised as its bottom half fell away, leaving it to topple to the ground in an undignified heap.

Devin arrived at the edge of the leaders small clearing and stood at the narrow pathway leading down to the main camp. Alarms had been raised and a goblin force of about twenty stood at the end of the path. They were lightly armored, mostly in loincloths with the occasional stolen leather bits of armor strapped to them.

Gideon stepped to his right, bow in his hands and an arrow strung. The air shimmered and Teryn appeared on his left, her hands glowing with a soft blue light as mist cascaded down them.

“Remember the plan?” Devin asked.

Gideon nodded. “You hold the path in the middle, we pick off any stragglers or gobbo’s trying to flank you.”

Teryn smiled, “Let’s kill some goblin scum.” Her eyes began to glow as she started to chant under her breath and ice coalesced into spears in her palms.

Devin drew his twin daggers. They were longer than a standard knife and would be considered short sword range for most people. They had a slight curve, pushing out slightly before swooping back. The backs had a small hook like notch, perfect for catching blades and tripping enemies up.

He smiled, “Hello Thorn and Blossom.” Devin took off at a sprint toward the mass of goblins at the other end of the narrow path. Thick brambles closed around him, keeping his sides from being flanked. The path took a small dip before leveling out towards the green skinned monsters.

The goblins charged, seeing a single enemy they could easily overwhelm. Their war screams filled the night air and rang in Devin’s ears, a familiar sound to the coming storm of blades. As he neared the group an arrow flew by overhead, followed by a large icicle. The arrow caught a goblin in the throat while the icicle rammed through another's eye and out the back of its skull.

The goblin at the head of the group paused at the sudden deaths, giving Devin all the initiative he needed. He met the goblin with a flurry of blades, slicing through an arm with Thorn and sticking Blossom deep in the goblins exposed stomach. He yanked his dagger and spun, slicing another goblin across the chest as Thorn parried a clumsy spear thrust.

Arrows and ice whizzed around him as he fought, the sound of them crashing into bodies countered only by the increasingly angry goblins shrieking in front of him. Only two or three could push forward to Devin at one time. Many tried to claw through the thick undergrowth, but only came away with scratched hands and arms, thwarted by the thick brambles. Devin thanked whatever strange rules they followed for not instilling in them the idea of armoring everyone.

Dodging backward, he avoided a goblin swinging his spear like a club, the blade missing his chest by inches. The goblins pushed forward, taking advantage of his movement backwards. Devin ducked underneath a thrust from another goblin and drove both knives into the gut of the one who swung. He ripped Thorn and Blossom free, black blood spattering down onto his hands and ground.

Rolling back, he gave the creatures some more ground, bringing them deeper into the narrow pathway. The goblin who thrusted at him eagerly jumped forward, bringing its spear in a low thrust, aimed toward Devin’s stomach. He twisted to the side and struck the spear, severing its head from the wooden shaft. With a quick jab, Blossom was deep in the goblins neck. As he prepared to attack another goblin pushing his fallen companions body into the brush, he noticed there weren’t any arrows or icicles flying around him.

Jumping up to avoid a low swing, he stole a glance behind him. Teryn was missing and Gideon was facing the opposite way, shooting arrows as fast as he could.

“Gideon! What's happening?” Devin called as he took another step back, sucking his gut to avoid a close thrust. He sliced with a knife, cutting a naked goblin arm. The monster stepped back, replaced by two fresh goblins with spears. “I can’t hold them alone!”

“Trap! Elite gobbo’s came crashing through the brush up here!” Two arrows flew on each side of Devin. One struck a goblin in the gut, felling it, while the other missed and stuck in a tree.

“Your aim is off Gideon!” Devin called as he parried two thrusts. He was entirely on the defensive now, being pushed back to where the path started to widen. Two goblins faced him while another was trying to squeeze through the thorny vines to get to him.

“Bigger problems up here, Devin! I think we need to bail!” Gideon’s voice was strained.

Gods dammit, Devin thought. He parried another thrust and ducked low, swiping at an exposed leg. Blossom cut deep, stopping as it hit bone. The goblin shrieked and pulled back, jerking Devin forward. He managed to yank the dagger back before a spear was thrust at his shoulder.

The blade was high and only sliced the top of his left shoulder. Devin felt a searing hot pain and cursed, pushing himself backwards in an undignified roll. He sprang to his feet and pulled a small vial from his belt.

“Payoff from this quest better be worth it, this shit’s expensive,” he mumbled as he threw the vial at the feet of the goblins. The tiny tinkle of glass shattering barely made it past the goblins as they surged forward. An explosion of smoke erupted outward and the angry cries turned to fearful shrieks. Devin spun away from the expanding cloud of oily smoke towards Gideon and took off running. The sounds of goblins tripping over each other and crying out gave him a brief smile.

He ascended the small rise to Gideon with a few bounds and came upon the camp. The simple cleanup he had left behind has descended into chaos. Dozens of heavily armored goblin shock troops, affectionately called Screechers by those they faced due to their propensity to wear rusted plate armor and make a general ruckus whenever they moved, had broken through the brush into the small clearing.

The Screechers were covered in plated armor, lacking in any rust and moving along well oiled seams. They wielded elegant and large axes and mauls, weapons clearly beyond any goblin blacksmith and even most standard blacksmiths. Devin saw Murton and Griff going toe to toe beside each other, each holding off several goblins. Gideon was firing as fast as he could, aiming for any gap in the armor.

Glancing around he found Teryn flinging icicles, the hems of her rob now caked in frost. Her fingers were starting to turn blue, a dangerous by product of delving into ice magic. More Screechers were clamoring through the thick bushes opposite of the way they had come in. With a final glance around, Devin made an executive decision.

“Tactical retreat!” he shouted at the top of his lungs. “Let’s get the hell out of here! Teryn, lay down some ice to cover our escape. Griff, cover us from any objects with that massive shield of your. Gideon, pepper the ones coming through the smoke to slow ‘em down. Murton, you’re with me clearing the underbrush for an easy escape.”

The group sprang into action. Devin sprinted towards where they had entered the clearing and began to hack at the bushes. With Murton beside him, cleaving huge swathes with his axe, they made short work in clearing a small path for them to escape into the forest.

“Let's go everyone, we are leaving!” Devin ran back into the camp stabbed a goblin making a lunge for Griff. His daggers found their way through gaps in the pristine armor and plunged deep into its abdomen, black blood leaking out over the dagger hilts. Devin withdrew and spun around.

At his feet lay the dead goblin leader. With a quick slice, he severed the head from its body. Turning back he saw Griff nod at him and they both took off towards Teryn and Murton waiting at the clearing in the brush.

“Gideon, let’s move your golden haired ass!” Devin glanced back toward the small path and his stomach dropped. Gideon was facing the group, held aloft by two goblins with spears thrust clean through him from behind. Blood bubbled from his lips as he tried to speak. The goblins threw him down to the ground and converged on him. The man finally found his voice and began screaming as the goblin group began to tear him apart.

Shaking his head, Devin turned to the group. “No time, we need to leave or that will be us! Teryn, where's that slick of ice?”

“On it,” she shouted over the increasing noise of the goblins feasting on their companions remains. She chanted lowly, her hand glowing blue. With a quick swipe of her right hand, a slick of ice formed around them, spreading toward the goblins. As it reached them, some cried in alarm at the sudden cold. They began to slip and fall over each other. One of the regular goblins fell onto the feet of a Screecher, prompting the bigger goblin to crush its skull with its maul. This started a general fight as the goblins fought over each other, slipping and sliding on the ice.

Devin and his party turned into the brush and took off running as fast as they could. He glanced back to see Murton falling behind, his shorter Dwarven legs could not keep up with the rest of them quite as well.

“Griff, would you mind,” Devin tilted his head back. Griff grunted and slowed down. He swung an arm the size of a bears down and scooped Murton onto his shoulder.

“Put me down you ape of a buffon! I am a proud member of this adventuring party and I demanded to be treated like one!” The enraged dwarf kicked at Griff as he shouted.

“Murton, if you don’t shut your stupid flapping mouth I will have Griff drop you, and we will leave you behind to the goblin’s who undoubtedly heard your commotion. Understand?”

Murton’s mouth clamped shut and his feet stopped kicking, but the red of his face would not lessen.

“Teach ya all a thing or two about respect when we get back to…” He grumbled to himself.

Devin nodded and picked up his pace. The group crashed back through the trees, following a small game trail that had brought them close to the camp. After several minutes of running he raised his hand, calling for a rest. Pulling the bandana down from his mouth, he glanced around his group.

Griff dropped the dwarf unceremoniously, prompting another stream of curses. Murton stood up and brushed the front of his mail. Teryn stood next to Devin, panting as heavily as he was. Griff somehow towered over the rest, breathing easily through his nose. How in the world the giant man could have this kind of endurance was a mystery to Devin.

As the groups breathing slowed, they listened for any signs of a pursuit. In the distance, the sounds of the goblins shrieking and fighting was dim and did not seem to be growing closer. Devin leaned back against a tree.

“So,” he started, “What to do about Gideon?”

“Well, we get to split his share,” answered Murton. Griff grunted in agreeance. Devin turned to Teryn who merely shrugged.

“No love lost for the ranger?” Devin asked.

“Well, he was here with us for only two missions. I mean, we knew him twelve days.” Teryn said.

“Yeah, and to be fair, that fifth position does not have a good track record. We had Fellis at Nightcastle, Erith at the Dead Marsh…”

“Ok, I get it, we tend to lose our rangers,” Devin put his hands up in front of him.

“Oh, and do not forget Jenna in the Poison Woods or Mistress Jaina in the Tomb of Daeth,” Teryn piped in while Murton nodded along.

“And I thought I was being callous,” Devin muttered.

“Froderick,” Griff stated and the other three winced in unison.

“Yeah, definitely Froderick, though I thought we agreed to never bring him up,” Murton scowled at Griff, who simply shrugged his shoulders, his face remaining as impassive as always.

“My biggest problem with that whole misadventure is where and how in the infinite hells did goblin’s get armor and weapons like that?” Teryn asked, pushing her eyebrows back behind her ears.

“An excellent question. The whole thing smells a bit fishy to me.” Devin said.

“Funny, I thought it smelled like a mix of rotten carcass and goblin piss,” Murton smirked at Devin. Griff let out a quick breath, his version of a chuckle.

Devin let a long sigh out, his arms dropping to his sides and shoulders slumping. “I’m too tired and covered in blood and shit to deal with any of this right now. Come on, let's get back to Mossglenn Depot. There's enough time today to get a good meal and drinks and cash in tomorrow.”

The weary group turned and started trudging west. The sun was just starting to peek through the clouds as it began its long descent from its zenith. Devin could not help but feel a small twinge of guilt at another ranger dying in their band. Hopefully the next one would fair better. Of course, that is what he’d thought about the past dozen.