Crawling to the end of the ledge, Dumog peeped on the activity below. It was like an underground city, or more like a town for now. It wasn’t as big as Mayor Takaw’s, but it was still impressive. Goblin and Kobold alike were working and trading amongst each other. Dumog didn’t know that they were able to coexist, he assumed they wouldn’t because of the language barrier.

It was a ravine, though not as deep as the ones he had seen before. He was low enough to be able to see them clearly. Most of the structures were made of wood or just tents, it looked like they hadn’t been there for long. At the end of their little town was a tunnel-like shape, a size that a train could fit in. But it was too short and shallow for it to go anywhere. He figured they had just begun the digging.

The Goblins and Kobolds that were working on it were on the ground, exhausted. Judging at the rate that they were going, Dumog estimated that it would take them months to reach a few meters. He thought that the Ratfolk would do better.

After being amazed with what they have built, panic began to rise up within him. He was surrounded by hundreds, maybe thousands of enemies. Frantically looking around, there were no obvious signs of where the exit was. Then, he started formulating plans on how to sneak past all of them while going through their city. Dumog couldn’t even find a way down from his ledge. All of the thinking started to tax his brain.

He felt the turtle shift around in his pocket. Because of Dumog’s prone position it was getting squished under his weight. Not wanting to stand up, he raised his leg up a bit to give it some space. This only gave it enough room to bite the lower part of his belly. Dumog yelped far too loud than what he needed to, alerting everyone below him.

His legs had fallen asleep from all the crawling. So, in his pathetic attempt to stand up, his legs buckled and he fell forwards off the ledge. The turtle bit harder to keep itself from flying away from Dumog. Falling several meters, tears streamed down his face from the pain and his bad luck.

Luckily for him he fell into a tent, bursting through it and landing on the metal plate on his back. The Kobold family screamed at him. A mother holding her baby, threw a cooking pot to his head, a resounding gong sound rang through his skull.

Regaining strength to his legs, Dumog ran out of their home. All eyes were on him as he stumbled onto the road. Some stared in awe, unsure if he was actually human. The others responded quickly and gathered their weapons.

He chose a direction and ran. The Goblins and Kobolds in front of him were confused whether to attack him or not, wondering how he got there in the first place. Clangs and rattles of weapons could be heard behind him, as well as a few howls. Whooshing sounds flew by his ear and above his head, some struck the metal plate on his back. They shot arrows and bolts at him.

While he ran, he spotted large carts filled with livestock. For the first time in a while, his brain worked. Dumog switched directions and followed the trails that the carts left in the hopes that it would lead him to where they came from, outside.

In some twisted way, in Dumog’s mind his current situation was like a deadly game of tag. He dies or gets tortured if they catch him. Memories of his childhood resurfaced as he strained his muscles. The face of his first friend popped in his mind, making him wonder how he was doing as Dumog jumped over a Goblin’s fruit stand. Dumog regretted not maintaining his friendship with Mark, he tried to remember why they stopped talking.

As he was going through his memories, a giant Warg reminded him that they were trying to kill him. A Warg twice the size of a normal one tackled him from the side, making him tumble and roll.

Used to going down on the ground, Dumog continued rolling to pop back up on his feet, still sprinting. The Warg howled in approval, impressed with his performance.

His nose not clogged and the proper breathing technique taught by Jacked, he was amazed by his own endurance. He kept pace and focused on his survival. The cart trail led to an incline, an opening showed the sky at the end of it. Though, he figured the chase wouldn’t end even if he managed to exit the cave.

He didn’t dare to look behind him, hearing the screams and feet pounding the ground was enough for him to imagine how many were chasing him. The steps of the Giant Warge seemed to be gaining on him, he could feel their breath to his right. But there were another set of feet getting closer to his left, heavy and bipedal.

They swung their heavy axe at Dumog. He heard the wind up and he turned at the last minute, the axe catching the metal plate. Sparks and a thunderous sound rang through his entire body as he flew to the other side of the cave. Dumog bounced off the wall without losing his momentum, he continued his inclined sprint.

The giant Kobold whistled, Dumog turned on instinct. He was twice the size of him, he couldn’t believe that it was a Kobold. A beard covered the lower part of his jaw, the same color as Jacked’s.

The Kobold Chief ran after him and jumped into the air, explosive muscles wrapped around his body. The Giant Warg ran below and caught him midair, they were now an enormous unit.

Dumog dared not to waste his breath. The exit was close, he could see the clouds and the sky. At first he wondered at the lack of trees, it turned out that they were way below. The exit led to a downhill slope, which he almost rolled down. And the monstrous pair were gaining on him.

Like a death flag, Dumog stood there reminiscing about life before and his childhood. He again, wondered how Mark was doing and tried to remember where things went wrong in his life. The slope below him triggered a hidden memory within him.

Dumog was 10 years old, he was neighbors with Mark. Naturally they were friends since they could remember. A huge portion of his life before he was a teen was spent with Mark. After school they would play outside of their homes.

They lived on top of a hill, and a steep road led to their houses. After seeing their ball roll down at a great speed, Dumog gets an idea. With scrap wood they made a sled, it could only fit one person, so Dumog went first.

But Mark brought up a reasonable concern, the slope led to a crossroads that usually had heavy traffic. If they weren’t able to stop before it, then they would get hit by a car. Dumog’s solution for that was for Mark to wait at the end, and stop him with a barrier. In their heads this was a good idea.

Dumog went down full speed, at the mercy of gravity. Mark waited with the barrier they made. And it worked, the barrier successfully stopped Dumog from overshooting. But all that energy from the ride had to go somewhere.

Mark flew back into heavy traffic, head first. A car didn’t hit him, he hit the car, leaving a dent. Dumog with his dumb grin still on his face, watched it all happen.

Luckily, Mark didn’t die. He did however, sustain several spinal problems and brain damage, he would never walk again. Dumog’s family paid for the treatments, leaving them bankrupt and in debt. The two never spoke to each other after that.

Back to the present, Krav the Kobold King saw Dumog stand still after reaching the exit. He and his Warg were near. Flexing his back muscles and wielding his giant axe, he winded up for another powerful swing. Krave wanted to chop him in half with one swing. His ego was hurt when the metal plate on Dumog’s back deflected his blow.

Dumog turned back to him, a perfect position for Krav to behead him. A swing and a miss, at the last moment Dumog turned and leaned forward.

The metal plate now in his hand, he positioned himself as he fell forward. The landing on the slope almost knocked him off it, but he held on. Knees tucked in and hands on the curve of the plate, he zoomed down the mountain side.

Krave wasn’t known to give up once he had a target, he and his Warg went down after Dumog. A few of his squad leaders were trailing behind him with mounts of their own.

The side of the mountain was relatively smooth, not rocky enough to stop his descent. Dumog had no control over the whole thing, he left it up to luck to decide his fate for this one. He held on as hard as he could.

They were halfway down the mountain and Krave was catching up on him. Up ahead was a cliff with a significant rock protrusion rising up from the ground. Krave clicked his tongue and ordered his people to stop the pursuit.

Dumog hit the rock at full speed, the plate under him got stuck on it. Flung into the air like a spoonful of butter, there was nothing he could do but scream and hope for the best.

Krav walked to the edge and crouched to the ground. He picked up the metal plate with one hand, handling it with ease. Inspecting it, he could not recognize what material it was.

“King Krav, do we continue the chase?” The energetic squad leader asked.

“No, a new human settlement is in that area. Reduce all interaction with them as much as possible,” he answered in his deep, gravelly voice. “Besides, he shouldn’t survive that fall.”

“But sir, the human had seen our activities.”

“Should he survive, who would listen to the naked fool? Anyways, our new friends should be coming soon,” Dumog’s escape hurt Krav’s pride deep down.

“Friends?”

“The Ratfolk are joining us on site A.”

***

“And then, I told him to unalive! Bahahaha,” Jacked slapped his knee and laughed at his own joke.

It had been six hours since the caravan was attacked. Team Chokeslam was stationed in front of the group and another group protected the back. They were carrying supplies and the new settlers that wanted to join the new farming settlement.

Amihan had a migraine, anyone would if they were to endure several hours of Jacked’s jokes. The cart driver seemed to be used to a situation like this, he listened but not once did he laugh. Dumog’s replacement, Uhog, had managed to sleep through it. His head and saliva on Amihan’s shoulder. She was envious of the two to be able to block the bald man out.

A part of her wanted for the caravan to get attacked by bandits again. She’ll end up “unaliving” herself if he doesn’t stop. They had two more days of travelling left.

Her very keen senses keep her from completely drowning his jokes out, more of a curse than a blessing in that moment. She decided to try and over-stimulate her other senses, focusing on the cold drool on her shoulder, picking at the hangnail on her real hand, and even biting the inside of her cheek. Sight was left, she tilted her head up looking at the sky and took a deep breath, smelling Uhog’s bad breath and Jacked’s feet. Amihan stayed still, counting the trees and clouds in front of her.

“Why did the dyslexic wizard get kicked out of the Academy? He can’t spell!” Another knee slapper from Jacked.

Maybe she needed something more painful to not notice his jokes.

“What do Paladins taste like? Lawful!” Jacked wiped tears from his eyes.

Amihan let hers stream down her face. Suddenly in the sky, a dirty half-naked man flew in the sky. Startled, she abruptly stood up, waking Uhog up. He looked at the sky and pointed.

“Hey look, it me!” He exclaimed, popping his snot bubble at the excitement.

The flying figure’s trajectory was to land a few hundred meters ahead of them. From her giant pack Amihan brought out an equally large fishing net.

“Mister, can you catch up to that?” She asked the driver.

“Easy work for my horses,” he cracked the reins.

They were able to reach great speeds with the two horses attached to a wag. It wasn’t carrying much, the trio and the driver were the only load it had. The heaviest thing on it was Amihan’s pack.

The flying man got closer to the ground and Amihan could get a closer look that confirmed what she thought, Dumog. With a quick swipe of her net she was able to save him from falling face first into the ground and breaking his neck. The wagon slowed down, Jacked and Uhog clapped at Amihan and the driver.

She released him from the net. The first thing that he did was hang off the side of the wagon and puke, it was mostly water and acid.

“You seem to be used to catching people more than actual fish,” Jacked teased.

“Shut up already.”

“Hello!” Uhog smiled and greeted Dumog who was still puking.

He ignored him and slumped in his seat. Eyes closed, he took a deep breath and sighed. He could finally relax, not even questioning how he ended back with the group or about the man who looked like him.

“Welcome back, I knew you would show up anytime soon,” Jacked lied.

“Hey, you have a Forged Turtle biting your stomach by the way,” Amihan pointed to the turtle.

“Ouch, so that’s what you are,” Dumog pulled it off him and dropped it on the floor.

“So are you going to tell us why you were gone?”

“I fell in a hole.”

Dumog told them the entirety of what he remembered. He asked why the Kobolds and the Goblins were together, to which Jacked dismissed, saying that it was impossible and that they probably enslaved the other. Amihan didn’t give her opinion on it.

“So what have you been up to? Did you try to find me?” Dumog asked.

“You were gone for a week, we’re currently on a caravan guarding job,” Amihan gestured to the rest of the wagons that were now catching up.

“Oh my poor disciple! I looked everywhere for you,” Jacked embraced Dumog.

“Who’s that?” He pointed at Uhog.

“That’s Uhog, umm, our friend in need, yes. He wants to move to the new settlement and start a new life,” Jacked wiped fake tears from his eyes. He leaned into Amihan and whispered, “Don’t tell him I taught Uhog a spell.”

The turtle moved around and observed all of them, which caught Jacked’s eyes. They stared at each other for a few moments until Jacked broke it and smirked.

“Nice turtle you have there,” Jacked said.

“Eh, I don’t like it that much, it keeps biting me,” he rubbed the bruised spots on his body, he was covered in them.

“Keep it,” he said in a serious tone.

“Hot!” Uhog added.

Dumog rested his chin on the wagon’s edge, beaten, hungry, and tired; he didn’t want to think about the recent events and how they reunited. He chalked it up to destiny and causality.

“A Kobold who can’t perform, call that a reptile dysfunction,” Jacked slapped his knee and guffawed.

Amihan sunk in her seat and groaned. Uhog was playing with the turtle. Dumog gave in and snorted, there was finally someone who enjoyed Jacked’s jokes.