Groggily she moaned, flexing her arms and legs her as her eyelids fluttered and tried to open but they couldn’t because there was a piece of something stiff with what she hoped was just dirt tied tightly around her head. Rough stone scraped against her arms tied behind her back and her feet pushed through something soft and she shuddered remembering what had surrounded her. But ears straining she could hear nothing other than a faint crackle, the horrific stench was gone, instead the air carried a strong smell of smoke and burnt flesh.

As she started to panic Aignew’s worried voice sounded in her head, “Oh my witch, I thought I’d lost you. When that cowardly creature struck you I felt so helpless. But I was able to secure aid from an… unusual source. His magic is powerful undeniably but his mental capability is, lacking. Normally it would be an insult to a rational being to say they were less intelligent than your horse but in this case it may be actual truth. Hold a moment, I will have him free you.”

She heard soft padding footsteps then a faint whoosh and unbearable heat near her tied wrists. Before she could feel more than the first sharp stab of fear the heat went away and instead she felt slim and extremely warm fingers working at her bindings. As soon as her hands were freed she reached up and tore away her blindfold, shuddering when she saw the colour and texture of the encrusting filth. She was certain that was not just dirt.

Turning to her rescuer her thanks froze in her throat. The creature standing just behind her was a Goblin.

His toothy fanged grin got wider, he made a Pffbt sound and licked her arm. She recoiled violently and scrabbled backward on her butt away from the creature until her lower back hit the bottom tread of the stairs, painfully.

Her hand found the hilt of her knife and yanked it from the sheath.

Holding it trembling in front of her (and slightly surprised it was still there, Goblins really were stupid it seemed) her voice quavered as she said, “Stay back. I’ll cut your throat if you come near me monster.”

The grin wiped itself from his face, his ears drooped and his shoulders fell.

Aignew said, “My witch, that is the creature who aided you. He was tied up at the back of the cellar but was not a captive. As far as I can understand from his fractured mind, he was kept tied for his own safety because he has a tendency to wander off and get lost. In truth I had wondered how creatures as weak and cowardly as these Goblins had managed to take and keep this cellar when much more powerful things live in this swamp. He is the reason it seems, they’d drag him out and set him on anything that they couldn’t run off themselves.”

Lowering the knife slowly she watched him intently, ready to bring it back up the instant he showed any aggression. When the knife was sheathed and there had been no attack she tried a small smile.

The response was immediate, his ears came up and his toothy mouth broke into a wide grin.

He was a very strange looking Goblin, instead of the beady red rodent-like eyes common to his race he had one eye the colour of fire and the other was a deep pool of rich purple. Those eyes were different in one other very important way. Although disturbingly free of thought, friendliness shone from them instead of the malice and vicious cunning that usually swam in the red tinged depths of Goblin eyes. His skin was mostly the green colour normal to his race but deep red\orange scales ran along his forearms and cheeks and other small patches of dull grey scales were scattered here and there across his body.

While she’d studied him, he’d also studied her with a tilted head and knitted brows.

Nodding he suddenly scurried off into the dark depths of the cellar. She stood up wondering what he was up to and held herself ready to bolt at the slightest sign of an attack. When he suddenly reappeared right beside her with a pop of displaced air she let out a small shriek and stepped away from him quickly.

Ignoring her movement he help his hand up smiling proudly. In it was a large almost perfectly clear single crystal with many small golden cubes seemingly floating within. He took a couple of steps toward her and reaching out carefully placed it in her palm then he gently closed her hand around it. Grinning widely as he sat down with his back to a pillar.

Hoping she hadn’t misinterpreted his actions she said, “Thank you. It’s very beautiful.” And sighed with relief when he wriggled with happiness.

She tucked the crystal away and now certain she was safe from attack she took a look around the cellar she’d almost died for.

Which reminded her, reaching up she very carefully felt around the back of her skull, wincing as her fingers encountered a slightly sticky lump the size of a chicken’s egg which twinged when she touched it. But thankfully the pain wasn’t so bad and she didn’t think anything was badly broken.

Looking around she was surprised, for some reason she’d thought the cellar wouldn’t be much larger than one of the tribes tents, which is to say not much more than a double hand of paces a side. Instead the thick vaulted pillars marched off in ranks into the darkness and you could have fit more than half her village into what she could see, the far walls weren’t even visible.

Even just in the small part she could see the source of the stench that nearly killed her was also very apparent, rotting carcasses lay discarded wherever they had fallen and piled excrement reared out of the puddles of urine like tiny islands forested with glowing fungus.

That wasn’t all that lay scattered around the cellar because so were the the former inhabitants. Laying where they’d fallen, some still lit by sputtering flames as the fats under the skin burned closer to where she'd been tied they showed no signs of flame or other injury but were still clearly dead.

As she studied the untouched dead frowning the smell of burning was fading rapidly and she could almost see the stench reimposing it’s malodorous hold. She’d worry about what had killed those goblins later it was time to get out of here and into the fresh air.

As she headed for the stairs brightly lit by the noonday sun the strange goblin bounced to his feet and followed closely behind. She was still a bit suspect of his intentions but, there wasn’t really anything she could do right now, if he attacked her he attacked her. Judging from the glow she was still protected and enhanced by her brews.

Once outside she breathed in the sweet (dank) wonderfully clean (stank like rotting vegetation) swamp air in great gusty lungfuls. Once she’d slowed down Aignew said, “I would venture to suggest our new ally would be useful in cleaning out the cellar, he appears to have an extraordinary affinity for fire magic and it is in dire need of the cleansing touch of flame.”

As her breathing slowed further she said, “Cleansing that pesthole with flame is a thought from the Gods themselves. But how do I communicate with him? He hasn’t spoken a word. Actually how did you convince him to aid us? I mean they were his own kind he killed.”

Aignew’s voice was thoughtful as he said, “They weren’t really his own kind. Even though he is frightfully unintelligent, compared to them he is a genius and frankly he was lonely for someone to talk to. As for the lack of communication a potion of thought thievery is well within your capabilities and will allow you to ‘hear’ him. However if you intend to keep him around for long the ritual to bind a familiar allows mental communication with even the voiceless... and the patently unintelligent, we can likely modify that to work. If you’d rather dispose of the creature I would wait until after the cellar is cleansed. Otherwise cleansing the cellar that will be a very unpleasant task.”

She started and said, “What?! No! I don’t want him disposed of. He’s the closest thing I've seen to a friendly face since I was accused by the false god.”

Aignew’s vice was frigid as he said, “Have a care my witch and remember your vow, if you befriend the creature I will destroy him. No family, no friend, no lover, no children, no master, no other than me.”

She thought quickly to come up with some way to deflect the cold spirit’s hostility toward the friendly natured Goblin. The full enormity of her vow slammed down upon her and she felt faintly sick as she realised just what she’d agreed to… and to what she had bound herself. She’d be dead if she hadn’t but…

Thinking quickly she said, “You yourself said it. He is less intelligent than my horse. If any relationship is possible between us it will be in the manner of master and dog. That can be no threat to my vow or our bond.”

Aignew said, “That is perfectly acceptable, as a guard dog he will be exceptionally useful.”