The sun was beginning to set over the continent of Qualore, slowly bathing the Four Great Territories in orange light. In the north, this time marked when the various villages, towns, and cities began to unwind for the day. For the inhabitants of these various settlements to return home to family and friends after a hard day’s work.
It was also a time for fear and trepidation. There were countless beasts and monsters that called Qualore home, and many used the cover of night to hunt. Because of this, the average civilian didn’t dare to leave their respective settlements, instead choosing to end their day. However, for a certain group of five individuals, this time marked the beginning.
-Line Break-
A human just over the cusp of adulthood glared at the monster before him. The man had rich umber skin, a rugged jawline. Bright hazel eyes shone with confidence and determination. His tight curls were styled into a prim military style with the sides being trimmed to a fade. His chin was clean shaven, but he did have a clean chevron moustache. A long scar stretched across his left cheek and ended at the bridge of his nose.
He was garbed in a simple black gambeson with brass fastening and straps. On his lower half were a pair of thick woolen pants with several patches of non-matching fabric and a pair of sturdy clearly well-worn, leather boots. In his hands were a rounded, and rather battered, shield and broadsword. With a war cry, the man lunged towards the small creature before him, swinging his sword in a downward arc.
The creature in question, a small humanoid with blotchy green skin, a bulbous nose, and long pointed ears, swiftly moved out of the way of the man’s sword. The creature bared its horrible teeth at the man in a facsimile of a smile, it crooked and jagged fangs practically dripping with saliva. Its nails were dirty and jagged, and nothing covered its horrid four-toed feet. It wore nothing but a simple dirty cloth around its waist. The creature, a goblin, then lunged at the man, swinging its own battered and chipped sword with wild vigor.
The man swift raised his shield, blocking the monster’s wild attack with a grunt. The scar on his face seemed to ripple as he glared down at the frothing creature. Before he could attack once more, the man was forced to hastily disengage with his foe to avoid a streak of red and orange flames. The bolt of flames struck the goblin, exploding and immolating the creature in fierce flames. The monster’s screams dying out before they could even start.
The man turned towards the source of the attack and scowled. “Lhoris, please watch where you’re aiming your spells!”
Lhoris, a slim and fair-skinned half-elf smiled apologetically at the man. A light dusting of freckles decorated their cheeks, and their short silvery blond locks seemed to glow with an ethereal light. Their ears, while not has long and prevalent as pureblooded elves, possessed the telltale point of their elven heritage. A single teardrop shaped sapphire hung from their right ear.
Their usually pristine lapis blue robe was slightly frayed and muddied. Even so, the copper vine-like embroidery was still distinctive against the muck. In addition, the copper sigil of a rose against a crescent moon shimmered in the firelight. Next to them, a large black tome decorated with golden runes decorating its cover floated by their head through magical means.
“Sorry, Arden!” Lhoris called, sincerity evident in their crystal blue eyes. They were about to say more when a stray crossbow bolt narrowly missed them, causing them to yelp.
Brandishing their wand, a wooden rod decorated by twinning vines, Lhoris returned fire, purple energy glowing at the wand’s tip before shooting at their attacker. The brief satisfied expression that crossed the half-elf’s face was quickly erased as they were forced to turn tail and run as two goblins chased after them.
The man, now identified as Arden sighed. Knowing fully that Lhoris could handle themself, he took a moment to catch his breath and take stock of the situation. The campsite if it could be called that anymore, was in utter shambled. The few decrepit tents that the goblins had put up had been destroyed and their bonfire had been trampled over, leaving still burning logs and hunks of some unknown meat strewn across the ground. Much to Arden’s chagrin, the pile of ill begotten crates and barrels had also been disturbed.
Even from where he stood, the young man could see that several of the crates had been badly damaged with their contents spilling out and one of the barrels was leaking some kind of mulberry liquid. If things couldn’t get any worse, Arden heard an unfortunately familiar cacophonous laugh. Turning, Arden felt a part of himself die a little.
Arden’s draconian…friend, Hilderein, commonly referred to as Hilde, had one of the barrels held proudly over her brawny shoulders. Where Arden was a respectable six feet tall, Hilde was a good two heads taller than him. Her stocky body was completely covered in amber scales that served to make her even more menacing in firelight. The bundle of tendrils that extended like hair from the back of her skull were bound like a ponytail and framed by a series of spikes that crested the sides of her face down to her jaw.
She wore a simple leather vest that offered little in terms of protection, not that Hilde needed it given her tough scales and tougher constitution. Her pants were a thick hide material and fur mantle from so unknown beast was wrapped around her waist. Underneath said mantle, her long almost crocodilian-like tail swung freely. Her feet were bare, allowing her three claws to grip the earth freely.
With an uproarious laugh, she hurled the barrel with frightening force at a nearby group of goblins. The barrel exploded, not only dousing the goblins in alcohol but also sending most if not all of them into unconsciousness. She gave another laugh, piercing green eyes glittering with feral satisfaction. “That’s what I’m talking about!”
“Hilde! We’re supposed to bring back the supplies they stole, not destroy them!” Arden shouted.
Hilde glanced at the man, her expression falling. She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, her long tail thumping against the ground in annoyance. “Relax, Arden. I didn’t break anything important. It was just a barrel”
“A barrel of product we were hired to retrieve!” Arden hissed out, trying desperately to remain calm.
The draconian merely gave a huff in disinterest and turned away. She perked up, seemingly catching sight of something, and reached down to pick up her discarded club. Completely ignoring Arden, the draconian charged into the fray with a rancorous shout. Arden reached out as if to stop her but aborted the action upon realizing it was pointless.
“Gods dammit, Hilde,” Arden cursed. Nursing a rapidly forming headache, he turned to survey the rest of the encampment only for his heart to sink further. “Quekee!”
The aforementioned Quekee gave a strangled shriek of surprise, practically throwing the handful of precious jewels that he was holding. He turned towards Arden with a sheepish expression on his beak, his feathers ruffled, and his navy-blue eyes wide. Quekee, like other grounded tayris, possessed the appearance of a bipedal avian sans wings, specifically a crow in his case. His feathers, which were slowly beginning to settle, were a glossy black as was his beak. Both his hands and feet resembled the feet of a crow, with his hands having four talons and his feet having three.
He wore an old set of leather armor with a pair of baggy canvas pants. In addition, he wore an earthy green hood with silver clasps, the tail of which reached down to his own tail. With his hood up, one would consider Quekee to be intimidating, but the fact that he was barely four feet tall greatly diminished this effect.
“Wh-What is it, Arden?” Quekee tried to ask innocently, not that Arden was fooled.
“How about a little less looting and a little more shooting,” Arden said in a way that sounded a lot less like a suggestion and more of a threat.
The tayris gulped and immediately pulled the bow off from around her shoulder and plucked two arrows out from his quiver. With barely a second in between his shots, Quekee fired both arrows, each one piercing a goblin through their necks. The goblins clutched at their throats, black ichor leaving from their wounds, before collapsing in boneless heaps.
“I’m shooting! I’m shooting!” Quekee all but yelled as he ran off further into the camp, firing arrows every so often.
By that point, Arden wanted nothing more than to place his head in his hands. “Why?” he asked to no one in particular. Once more, he looked around the camp for the last member of his group, and once more he was disappointed. “Savine…”
Savine glanced at Arden, before turning back to the beautiful flowing pastel blue dress in her hands. “Relax, love. I’m just looking,” she drawled, turning the dress around to look at the sticking along the back. “I’m not planning on stealing it.”
Savine was an infernus, a human whose bloodline could be traced back to some type of demon. She had lavender skin with sharp features and slightly pointed ears. She had long, luxurious black hair that she pulled into a long, elegant braid that fell over her shoulder. A slim purple tail swished lazily at her feet, the tip of which was shaped like a spade. The two horns that grew from the sides of her head curled like a ram’s and several bangles and other jewelry decorated them. Her eyes were a pure molten red that could send a lesser being running in fear.
She wore a set of finely crafted half plate complete with pauldrons, armguards, and gauntlets. Underneath, one could the deep purple tunic she wore underneath her armor. She wore heavy greaves over her cotton pants and sabatons on her feet. A deep purple shawl was wrapped around her shoulders.
“Can’t you do that after?!” Arden exclaimed in exasperation. “We’re literally in the middle of combat!”
Savine merely rolled her eyes and held the dress against her armor, appearing to be content with ignoring the human. Arden, about to shout was brought up short as he noticed a goblin trying to sneak up on the infernus, a jagged knife clutched in its hands. He opened his mouth to warn his friend, but it was unneeded.
Just as the goblin leapt at her seemingly unprotected back, a shield of golden light erupted from behind her. With a startled shriek, the goblin bounced off the shield and collapsed to the ground, its knife falling from its grasp and skittering across the ground. Savine turned to the goblin, a bright golden halo circling her burning red eyes. She glanced down at the foul creature with nothing but disdain.
She sneered at the creature, flashing her slightly larger than normal incisors. She held up a hand and the same golden light that made up her shield swirled around her head and formed a massive mace. Gripping the weapon in her hand, which should have been impossible given her height and build and swung the mace with startling ferocity.
The poor monster stood no chance. There was a yelp, a deafening crack, and the goblin was no longer there. Savine sighed and tossed the dress she was still holding upon a pile of clothes in a broken crate.
“I guess we better clean things up,” she drawled, hefting the mace over her shoulder. She glanced at Arden, lifting an elegantly groomed brow and smirking. “Well? Are you going to help or what?”
Arden felt his eye twitch but said nothing. With a shake of his head, the human grabbed his sword and shield. “Let’s just get this over with,” he groused.
As it turned out, there wasn’t much for either Arden and Savine to do. The rest of the group, though it was likely that it was mostly Hilde, had carved their way through almost the entirety of the goblin camp. All that remained was a lone goblin in shaman-like garb. It wore a feathered headdress and a multicolored beaded bib-like collar around its neck. It was a good deal scrawnier than the other goblins that they had faced and instead of a blade, it held a short staff with some kind of skull fixed to the top.
Hilde, Quekee, and Lhoris were already engaged with this goblin with Hilde leading the charge both figuratively and literally. The monster in question grinned with its mangled maw and raised its staff. It then began chanting in some guttural language, waving its staff wildly above its head in time with each syllable. The eyes of the skull began before a numerous beams of sickly green light shot towards the group.
Both Lhoris and Quekee managed to leap out of the way of the spell but Hilde, either not able to stop her charge in time or simply not caring for the attack was struck point-blank in the chest. The draconian was lifted off her feet and thrown backwards from the force of the spell. She impacted against the earth with a loud thud followed by a large whoosh of air as Hilde’s lungs were forcibly emptied.
Savine was quick to rush to the draconian’s side, glowing hands hovering over the green smoldering mark the goblin’s spell left on Hilde’s stomach. Hilde groaned in pain, trying to wave off Savine’s hands, but the infernus was insistent.
Seeing that his compatriot was in good hands, Arden’s eyes narrowed upon the goblin and rushed forward. Seeing the human rushing towards it, the goblin released another series of incoherent shrieks and swung its staff towards him. The skull crackled with off colored lightning before a singly bolt erupted from the staff and barreled towards Arden.
Arden gave a grunt, raising his shield just in time for the bolt of lightning to impact it. The shield blocked the worst of the goblin’s lightning spell but the errant sparks that cascaded across its battered surface still sent harsh jolts of pain across Arden’s body as they rained upon him. Even through the pain, Arden refused to recoil and stood firm against the electrical onslaught.
The goblin, realizing that its spell wasn’t as effective as it had thought, took a step back, its grin fading into a look of fear. At the same moment, the creature’s spell fizzled out. Gritting his teeth through the pain, Arden resumed his charge, brandishing his sword for a critical swing. The goblin raised its staff to stop the attack, the skull beginning to glow yet again, but it was too late. With a shout, Arden brought down his sword, cutting through the staff and the goblin in one fell swoop. The goblin gave a final wail before it slumped to the ground in a pool of its own black ichor. The staff rolled from the monster’s limp hand, the ominous glow fading and the skull crumbling to dust.
Arden stared down at the creature for a moment, ensuring that the monster was truly dead, before sighing in relief. “There, it’s done.”
“I could have done that,” Hilde grunted, Savine helping her to her feet. The draconian’s vest was heavily singed around her stomach, though her scales appeared pristine thanks to Savine’s magic.
“I’m sure you would’ve,” Arden said tiredly, clearly not in the mood to banter with his compatriot. He wiped the black ichor from his sword and sheathed it at his waist. “Let’s just the merchant’s goods and get out of here. And no looting!” he added, eyes snapping to Quekee as the tayris was beginning to creep towards a pile of stolen goods.
“I-I wasn’t looting!” Quekee squawked indigently, an act that was severely lessened from the shifty look in his eyes. “I was just gathering everything the goblins stole.”
Arden stared down the bipedal crow, clearly not believing his words. After a moment, Arden broke eye contact and shook his head, his hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Whatever, let’s just get this done.” He glanced around at the ruined campsite and grimaced. “Let’s just hope there’s actually something to recover.”
“Well, the client did expect some of their things to be unrecoverable given the situation,” Savine commented as she sidled up next to the human. “They probably won’t be too angry at the condition of most of their goods.”
“I suppose…” Arden sighed, eyes following Quekee and Hilde as the rummaged through the campsite. He winced as Hilde lifted a heavily cracked and leaking barrel. “Gods I hope so.”
Savine patted Arden on the shoulder in a sympathetic manner. “It’ll be fine. Besides, they were a lot more invested in the return of that necklace. So long as we have that, we’ll be fine.”
Arden nodded along, his expression becoming slightly hopeful. “Yeah. Yeah! You’re right!”
Savine merely nodded, her face slightly smug. “I typically am.”
“We just need to find the necklace, and it’ll be a job well done!” Arden said determinedly. “Lhoris, can you find that necklace?”
The half-elf, who was crouched beside a trampled tent, grimaced. “I already did…”
Both Arden and Savine’s expressions dropped as, from the rubble, the elven mage pulled out a heavily damaged necklace. The various golden plates that made up the collar of the necklace were heavily dented and even twisted at parts. Several of the small and fragile chains that connected them had been snapped, leaving the object a tangled mess. The center pendant was crushed and the slots that, at one point, held a series of precious gems were empty.
“Yikes,” Quekee commented upon seeing the mangled jewelry. “Did we do that?”
“Please tell me you have a spell to fix it,” Arden practically begged, his face a mask of horror.
Lhoris flinched and weakly shook their head. “Sorry, Arden.”
Arden gave a long, wordless groan not unlike a wounded animal and sunk into a low crouch. “Why does this always happen?”
Works Of Fiction by D.J. Adams 