The sun slowly rose from the horizon to herald the start of a new day. The birds and small animals roused themselves from slumber and sought to sate their hunger. In the early hours of the morning, the tiny critters hustled to find a meal while the dangers of the forest were at its lowest. In an environment where the strong devour the weak, the weak had to find their own way to survive.

Just like the weakest beasts started the day early, so too did the weakest monsters. While larger monsters like orcs and kobolds were still fast asleep, the little goblins were hard at work; they couldn’t afford such luxury, especially when the cost was death.

The goblins began to pour out from burrows in the hillsides that they called home; they didn’t dare to tunnel deeper into the earth. That was the territory of the kobolds.

Goblins all had the same general features. Their skin was green, usually with shades varying from goblin to goblin. They had large, pointed ears that seemed disproportionately large in comparison to their head. Their hair was usually a shade of off white or gray and in terms of height, they averaged about 5 ft. (1.524m)

Unlike most monster tribes, Goblins were extremely united. Any who dared to threaten the safety of the group would be killed immediately. They communicated well and used a series of calls to exchange information over a distance. They organized their hunting parties in groups of three so that one could kill and defend, one could harvest and pack and another could keep watch and use the signals to call for assistance or warn other goblins of danger. While many considered goblins to be an inferior race, in order to live in this forest filled with powerful existences, they had to be cunning.

Leading one of these hunting teams was Rust, a hobgoblin. He looked like any other goblin, just a bit taller and more robust. Once a goblin evolved into a hobgoblin, they would be exempt from the morning hunt, although they could still participate if they so desired. This was in the interest of preserving their fighting strength. Hobgoblins were the backbone of the goblin race and the death of any hobgoblin would be a great loss to the tribe.

Rust still hunted because he refused to hand over the leadership of his team to anyone else. This was understandable because the goblins who worked alongside him were his two younger siblings. His sister, Silver and his brother, Bronze. Entrusting their lives to someone else was something that he just couldn’t do. Sure goblins were cunning, but if they had no love for one another, they would have been destroyed long ago.

“Bronze, pick up the pace! Silver, watch for that branch--! Ahh...too late.”

Bronze and Silver were twins and rather than being opposites of each other, they were too alike. Both were spacey and would often be lost in reverie. Rust would constantly have to look behind and make sure they were still following him. A stray butterfly, a cute animal or a flower that they had never seen before, could all easily steal their attention. It was a fact that Rust had managed to evolve into a hobgoblin, simply because of his efforts to keep these two scatterbrains alive.

“C’mon, get up, we need to be quick about this.”

“Thank you Rust. We promise to keep up.”

Rust helped Silver up to her feet and then motioned for her and Bronze to follow him. He made sure to keep to the dense foliage and tall trees to obscure themselves from the sight of any potential predators. As Rust and his siblings advanced further from their burrow, the woods around them became denser and visibility wasn’t much better than it would be at night. Still, goblins had keen eyesight and could easily adjust.

The siblings were armed with standard equipment. They wore tanned leather armor, leather arm and shin guards, as well as a shawl, all made from Wooly Elk hide. Wooly Elks were the primary source of protein for the goblin race. They were easy to kill and were light enough for goblins to carry back. Goblins domesticated a few Wooly Elks, but they were used mainly for milk and were only eaten during special occasions.

Currently, Wooly Elk was the game that Rust and his siblings were after. Wooly Elks were fond of mushrooms and therefore, they would gather in areas with many fallen trees so they could feast on the mushrooms that grew on them.

“Hey Rust...I’m hungry.”

“Me too…”

“Can we stop to eat?”

“Yeah, let’s.”

Without Rust even needing to say anything, these two had already decided to stop following him and set up to eat some dried meat and a cold, steamed yam. Long used to their antics, Rust could only indulge them and give them some time to eat.

“Eat some too. Rust needs food. Me and Silver ate lots.”

“Yeah, Bronze and I are full.”

The two siblings said to their older brother. Of course, Rust could see that it was a barefaced lie. The two of them could hardly keep the drool from dripping out of their mouths, but they still wanted to give their big brother a share. Even though the two of them were viewed as burdens by the other goblins, Rust never viewed them that way. Sometimes his words were harsh and his actions were gruff, but everything he did was for their sake. He worked and fought harder than any other goblin, so that no one could say anything about their place in the village.

“I’m still full from last night, so I’ll wait till after the hunt. Just go ahead finish it as we walk. We can’t waste anymore time.”

Though his tone was cold, Bronze and Silver eagerly thanked their brother and continued following him while eating. The hobgoblin could only sigh.

Within a few moments, they neared an area littered with decayed wood. It was the perfect source of nutrition for fungi and thus, a prime spot for Wooly Elks to get their breakfast. Rust did a once over and checked all of his equipment. He had a sling with six river stones, a sharp obsidian knife, a spear with a shaft made of oak and a spearhead made from wrought iron. He also had a satchel filled with basic provisions, kindling and flints. After ensuring that he had everything in place, Rust began his hunt.

At this point in time, the twins had managed to focus and were actually helping to keep an eye on their surroundings. Rust advanced quickly, following the tracks and sign that he found along the way. Eventually, he managed to spot an elk at a distance. It’s figure was extremely faint, but with the enhanced eyesight of a hobgoblin, he was able to just barely make it out in the darkness. Rust looked up at the branches and took note of the way they were swaying in the wind. After determining the position that was downwind of the beast, Rust moved through the trees and foliage until he was a little over two hundred yards away from it. The hobgoblin took the sling and wrapped the looped end of the of the cord over the the base of his middle finger, while he pinched the anchor knot of the opposite cord in between his index finger and thumb. Rust then placed a fist sized river stone into the sling pouch.

Swinging it above his head, the sling made a slight whistling sound, just barely audible to the Wooly Elk at this distance. However, amidst the song of the birds, the whistling didn’t seem out of place. Unguarded, the Wooly Elk feasted upon a cluster of mushrooms. After three revolutions, Rust mobilized his mana and transferred it through the cordage of the sling and into the stone just before he released the anchor knot, sending the projectile hurtling forward. With the infusion of mana, a dim trail of emerald light streaked behind the stone as it struck the Wooly Elk.

The Wooly Elk didn’t even have time to let out a cry, as its spinal cord was crushed by the tremendous force of the stone. Rust used his mana to ensure that the kill would be quick and the Elk would suffer as little as possible. The siblings moved to retrieve their prey and Bronze quickly went to work. They bled the elk and stored the blood in a waterskin made from elk’s bladder. Rust also made sure to pick up the stone. After packing their kill, Bronze waited for Silver to give the signal that they had caught game. Using a wooden flute, Silver played a special tune while amplifying the sound waves with her mana. Moments later, a tune was played in response to acknowledge them.

Bronze and Silver followed closely behind Rust, making sure to be vigilant of predators that might be eager to steal their gains. Just as they were keeping watch, they heard the shrill tune of another team’s flute. It was the signal that predators were chasing after them and unfortunately for the siblings, they were headed in their direction. However, now that they had heard the signal, it was their duty to rush forward and give aid if possible. The siblings moved toward the source of the signal and it didn’t take long to spot them in the distance.

The hunting team also had a Wooly Elk in tow and they were being chased by a small pack of River Wolves. River Wolves were not only larger and stronger than the average wolf, but they also had a strong affinity with the water element. This enabled them to effortlessly cast low level water magic individually and high level magic as a pack. The goblins being chased by the wolves suffered from various cuts and gashes, but they didn’t dare to slow down.

Rust used his sling once more sniping River Wolves from a distance with great accuracy. There were a total of ten River Wolves and four had already been felled by stones to the head. Rust had two more stones, but the wolves were closing in fast.

“Bronze, Silver, go with the other group and return to the burrows! These bastards have a grudge with me now and as long as you can escape, they will leave you alone.”

“No!”

The twins rejected the suggestions fervently.

“There is no room for argument, now leave!”

Rust said no more and instead, rushed towards the pack of River Wolves. Blades of water and spears of ice were fired at Rust from all directions. The wolves howled, signaling for more of their pack to aid them. A filthy hobgoblin had dared to kill members of their pack; this was a grievance that could only be washed away with blood. Completely ignoring the goblins they had chased after earlier, the River Wolves channeled their rage entirely on Rust.

Rust channeled mana through his meridians and into his foot to activate a low level earth spell called Pitfall in order to avoid the barrage of magic. The simple method that the hobgoblin used to avoid death, drew the ire of the River Wolves even more. Rust then used his spear to vault his way out of the pitfall, then used a low level nature magic, Ensnare. This magic would create a vine that could wrap around the caster’s target. Rust used the spell to yank himself mid-air in order to avoid the continued assault of the rabid wolves.

While he was in the air, Rust demonstrated superior skills by quickly loading and throwing his last two river stones, instantly killing another pair of wolves. When he landed on the ground, he had the audacity to turn around and give the River Wolves a mocking smile. Indignant howls rang out from the pack and even more wolves joined in the chase.

“Useless mutts, see how this daddy sets you straight!”

Rust roared as he weaved through the trees and bramble to try and keep a bit of distance from the wolves.

Bronze and Silver had been reluctant to listen to their brother, but they knew that like usual, they would be nothing more than burdens if they tried to help him. With a bitter feeling, the twins acquiesced to their brothers wish and joined the other team to return to the burrows. They turned pale with fright when they witnessed their brother being chased by a pack of over thirty wolves. The issue had not become one about food or survival, but one of pride. These River Wolves would not rest until Rust was killed.

Frantically, they and the other hunting team arrived back at their home and quickly informed the community of their situation.

“We will mobilize a small group of warriors to escort Rust back to the burrows. Once they return here, those mutts wouldn’t dare to fight then.”

A muscular hobgoblin, riddled with scars and burns, stood out among the rest. His name was Boulder and he was tasked with teaching survival skills to the young goblins. His words carried weight, so action was taken immediately.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, there was only one direction for Rust to flee toward and that was the lake at the heart of the forest. To the south was the territory of the orcs and infringing upon their territory would only bring conflict. The situations in the east and west were similar, with enemy territory abound. The only “safe” area he could head toward was the lake. With their destination clear, A group of seven warriors, five goblins and two hobgoblins were sent. Risking two hobgoblins to save one showed just how much Rust was valued by the community. He had wit and cunning, as well as skill. To lose him to River Wolves would be devastating.

Meanwhile, as the warriors were sent to protect and escort Rust, the hobgoblin in question was desperately fleeing for his life. In areas where the vegetation created choke points, he would use his magic to make pitfalls, or cover the ground in thorns. Every single one of his actions just increased the killing intent of these wolves. Using these petty tricks and traps, Rust had managed to kill six more River Wolves, but he also hadn’t gotten away unscathed.

He was riddled with wounds and had even lost an arm. However, he never stopped advancing. The sun had long risen and it was already past noon. Rust had been constantly running and fighting for several miles now and the exhaustion was catching up with him. Although he was nearing the lake, he no longer had the advantage in terrain and his speed couldn’t outmatch those of the River Wolves.

With each step he took, he knew he was only delaying the inevitable. Mustering his courage and strength, Rust stopped in the middle of a small clearing. He didn’t even have enough mana to boost his speed anymore, so he decided to try and kill as many of those bastards as possible before being eaten. Rust waited patiently for the wolves to catch up and it didn’t take long for them to surround him. They didn’t bother to cast spells any longer as they felt that the hobgoblin was an arrow at the end of its flight.

No, now they were going to take their time and tear this insolent creature limb from limb.

“Heheh, damned mutts. You can eat me if you want, but I swear that if you do, I’ll make you shit yourselves to death!”

Rust used the last of his strength to charge toward the wolves, brandishing his spear left and right. Even with his arm missing and his equilibrium thrown off, Rust managed to accurately aim for the vital spots of the wolves. Rust managed to kill four, before he was surrounded and mauled. They clawed and gnawed viciously into his skin causing Rust to feel an indescribable pain. The pain wasn’t physical, but emotional. All he could think about was that he would no longer be there to support Bronze and Silver. He was worried that they would be abandoned after his death. Weak, weak, so weak. Too weak to protect himself, too weak to protect his siblings; Rust’s world began to turn black.

He could no longer feel any pain and he was sure that the end would come. Willing himself with all of his heart and soul, he muttered,

“I can’t die...yet...”

But no matter how strong his will was, he couldn’t resist the call of death.

Just as he felt the last of his consciousness about to slip away, he realized the wolves had stopped mauling him. In the silence, Rust heard an immature voice reply,

“You won’t die. Aqua will surely be able save you.”

And then all faded to darkness.