DD1 ASC - Chapter 15 - Plans

Typhoeus was not enjoying himself. As physically relieving as performing one's necessary biological functions was, there was no amount of condensed water in all of Creation that could substitute for toilet paper. A true luxury that he had taken for granted during his brief stay at The Huntsman’s Rest. Arilla was mockingly unsympathetic to his plight when she revealed that she had been wiping her increasingly shapely ass with leaves of all things for the entire duration of their excursion. Something that seemed truly unsanitary to the dragon who was used to shitting from afar as he flew through the sky. The novelty of having to dig an actual hole in the ground to crap in having worn off the instant he had first tried it. He finished cleaning himself off and kicked dirt over the foul-smelling hole that he was forced to confront as a land bound mammal before smoothing out the crinkles in his dress as he went to rejoin Arilla.

“Have a nice shit, princess?” She asked mockingly.

“Fuck off,” Typhoeus said, in no mood for her games as she burst out laughing.

“I can’t believe you thought toilet paper was normal.” She said between guffaws.

“Are you ever going to let this go?”

“Honestly, no. Not after 18 years of making do with moss and straw.”

“I don’t understand how people live like this.” He said despairingly, shaking his head as he tried not to imagine the unfortunate results of such an act.

“It’s easy when you aren’t born with a silver spoon stuck up your arse.” She said eloquently, leading the way through the thicket of trees.

The thick tree trunks that made up this part of the forest absorbed almost all of the natural light, denying the undergrowth the opportunity to grow into any kind of real obstacle that could slow their steady progress. As Typhoeus and Arilla walked along the forest floor between the towering trees, they made do with the dappled sunlight that managed to filter through the canopy casting the area in perpetual dim light. While the lack of direct sunlight made the types of plant life living beneath the canopy somewhat monotonous, there were all manner of small shade dwelling plants that had adapted to better make use of their limited resources. Many of which were managing to get by supplementing their diet with nutrients stolen from the larger trees and the abundant fauna that lived within the forest. With thick choking vines slowly strangling the life out of nearby trees and carnivorous plants that lured in creatures large and small alike, before swiftly killing them with thorns, acid, teeth or more often than not poison.

Contrary to Arilla’s expectations the path of the goblins had never crossed with that of a guard patrol. In fact, neither of them saw any signs of patrolling guardsmen or soldiers of any kind as they made their way from the outlying farmsteads and into the Green Forest proper. The flat disused farmland being steadily reclaimed by the sprawling forest to the east. Eventually, the week-old trail led the two wood rank adventurers to a small clearing where the goblins path abruptly shifted to the south, suddenly growing much stronger in its intensity despite its age. Judging from the broken branches and traces of blood that accompanied this change, Typhoeus made an educated guess that this was likely where the small group that had fled the farmhouse had encountered more of their kind and were enveloped into the new group with only minor bloodshed, something which was a rarity for their species.

That there were more goblins in the forest was of no surprise to Typhoeus, but this discovery, coupled with the lack of patrols, caused Arilla to groan in dismay. She relayed that it was the Traylan dynasty's duty to keep the Green Forest clear of aggressive creatures like goblins or ogres. The former of which were known to abduct civilians from the small villages around the periphery of the forest that made their living off the bounty of furs, lumber and rare herbs that could only be found within the densely wooded area. That the Traylans had been lax in their duties wasn’t so surprising as it was disappointing, with goblin raids on the surrounding villages being depressingly commonplace. While retaliation from Rhelea was always swift and decisive, there were little to no pre-emptive culls scheduled as the powers-that-be insisted that the 2 chalkoi bounty was incentive enough for adventurers to keep the goblin numbers under control.

“Goblins aren’t particularly hard to kill, they have two ears, and they are never alone. While I wouldn’t say no to more chalkoi, I don’t see what’s wrong with the bounty.” Typhoeus said impassively.

“You’re right, and you’re wrong. The bounty is fine, great even. It’s just that goblins breed so fast that a handful of bronze coins isn’t enough to get proper adventurers to come all this way and perform regular enough culls to protect all the villages.” Arilla said.

“We’re proper adventurers, and we’re technically doing a goblin cull.” He said.

“Technically sure, but we have 8 levels between us, illegal classes notwithstanding, we’re hardly the stuff of legends.” She said derisively.

“Not yet anyway, but I see your point. You’d be hard-pressed to get clay ranks out here, let alone pewter adventurers. Not unless the goblins numbered in the hundreds, which would be problematic to say the least.” He said, well aware how dangerous a proper horde of goblins could become if left unchecked for long enough.

“Yeah, like I said. Every few years a swarm pours out of the forest, hence the name the ‘Green Forest’, by the time it gets put down at least an entire village will have been consumed, and then the orphanage would get a handful of new kids to deal with.” Arilla said, her face set as if she was recalling an unpleasant memory.

“Deal with?” Typhoeus asked.

“Children who’ve watched their entire families massacred by goblins, or worse who’ve been abducted themselves are rarely a barrel of laughs.” She said.

They both nodded at that. While goblins were famed for their prodigious breeding rates and their tendency to force themselves on anything with a womb, contrary to popular human beliefs, the little green creatures never touched humans in that way. While sexual assault was fortunately something that humans did not have to fear from them, goblins delighted in making up for that ‘kindness’ by tormenting the people they took captive right up until the moment they were sent to the cookpot. When an entire village was taken, the abundance of fresh ‘meat’ allowed for their tortures to last for weeks, and while that allowed for many more survivors to be rescued in the inevitable retaliatory strikes, the people that were saved were rarely in the best headspaces.

“Fair point. I guess you’ve seen a lot of fallout from monster attacks growing up in an orphanage?” Typhoeus said, hating how he misused the word ‘monster’ to appease her human sensibilities.

“I guess so. Whenever some new monstrous beast decided to attack a village or a travelling caravan, we’d always get some new arrivals. The nuns tried their best to brace us for it, but it always meant less space and worse food until the council could be shamed into forking over more money.” Arilla said, her voice tinged with a mixture of nostalgia and frustration.

“At least they did that.” He offered.

“They gave as little as they could, and only because starving orphans in the street wasn’t a good look for them. If they could have gotten away with it without the Traylan’s kicking up a stink, they certainly would have.” She said.

“Right, because of the dispute.”

“Yeah, that little thing.”

Typhoeus was quickly learning that Rhelea wasn’t like other towns. That it was called a town and not a city was even a large part of that difference. The Merchants Council, who administered the settlement, were an exception to the usual rule of landed nobility overseeing and more importantly, taxing the land within the kingdom of Terythia. This particular exception had occurred the better part of a century ago when the then head of the Traylan dynasty sold the town to an enterprising group of merchants in what was ultimately a failed bid to fund the construction of a fortified city deeper into the foothills of the Dragonspines. If the move had been successful, it would have likely seen the Traylan’s raised into contenders for provincial governors. But when a rogue shadow dragon of an unknown tier descended from the mountains to lay claim to the freshly constructed city, the Traylan’s had been ruined overnight and had been trying to renege on their deal with the merchants ever since.

The Traylan’s were still fabulously wealthy as they still received a tiny fraction of the tax revenue gathered in Rhelea, but rather than use that to invest in their remaining lands, it seemed to be funnelled directly towards their own private fortress, and in prodigious bribes spent in the capital trying to buy enough political goodwill to change the king's mind. As the original sale had been for a town which had now grown considerably, the current leading argument was that as Rhelea had grown into a city, the sale should be voided. It was a tenuous point at best, but the Traylan’s were nobles, and the members of the Merchants Council were not. So their petition would at least be heard by the king and as a show of support for the Council, Rhelea’s residents made a point of never referring to their home as a city.

After several more hours of hiking through the woods, the goblin’s newly reinvigorated scent trail eventually merged with an old dirt road that showed signs of recent use if not maintenance. Small goblin tracks crisscrossed backwards and forwards along the path with such frequency that Typhoeus could no longer pick up the individual scents of the goblins that they had been tracking for so long. The more recent passage of equally pungent creatures overpowering those from the older fainter trail.

"I don't like this; even I can see that there are too many goblins for us to handle." Arilla said, her heavy warhammer drawn in her hands as she kept her eyes peeled for signs of a goblin ambush.

"We'll just have to be smart about it. I’m sure I can come up with a plan that will see us through." Typhoeus said with a confident smile.

"Typh, your plans are consistently atrocious," Arilla said.

"They are not!" He argued, his reply coming out louder than he intended, his voice steeped with indignation.

"Your last plan left me in bed for two days." She deadpanned, not needing to emphasise her point.

"That was a small mistake. Anyway, you'll thank me for it when you rank your class up to clay. Surviving that much manaburn and slaying an ogre will ensure you get some decent choices when you rank up." He said, his smile straining to cover up the embarrassment that he still felt over his previous mistake.

"I will? I didn't realise that sort of thing mattered.” She said, sounding more than a little curious.

“Of course, it matters. It’s why power levelling is so rarely done. The Great System watches over everything and rewards hardship.” Typhoeus said almost reverently. “Anyway, we're getting off-topic. I promise this will be much easier than the ogre. At worst, we’re talking about a goblin village.”

"A goblin village does not sound like something I can handle." She said incredulously.

"You'd be surprised. Goblins don't start to get dangerous until there's at least a hundred of them." He said confidently.

"I'll take your word for it," Arilla grunted. “But I am not standing between you and a hundred goblins no matter what you say.”

The two adventurers continued walking along the overgrown road for some time, and as the signs of the goblins became more numerous they prepared themselves as best they could for a fight. Arilla tightening her already white-knuckled grip on her hammer, and Typhoeus deciding to be quiet for once as his skill enhanced eyes scanned the forest for threats. Steadily sounds of activity grew until the road reached the edge of a large artificial clearing where they could see dozens of the green skinned creatures scurrying about amidst a massive construction site.

A large perimeter wall made from felled trees that had been stripped of their branches was being built surrounding the ruins of an old logging camp. The dozen or so buildings that made up the abandoned settlement were clearly being refurbished to house its newer, smaller, greener skinned occupants, with stretched hides and wooden branches haphazardly used to patch any damage to the original construction. The goblins were all busy with some task or another, be that cutting down trees, knapping flint or working on any one of the multiple different building projects within the small village.

Arilla stared at the nest, her mouth agape in both horror and confusion as she watched the clearly intelligent creatures practice rudimentary crafts and organisation as they set about restoring the settlement to some semblance of habitability. A large bloodstained stone sat in the centre of the camp amidst a pile of stripped bones, making it abundantly clear that this industrious endeavour required a large quantity of meat, and with Typhoeus’s eyesight, he could tell that humans had been a part of these goblins diet for some time.

The two adventurers backed away slowly, not daring to talk until they were almost a quarter an hour away from the burgeoning village.

"Okay, so maybe my worst-case scenario was a little prescient," Typhoeus admitted, electing to break the silence with some levity.

"How are they even... goblins are supposed to be stupid; they can't even talk," Arilla stated, sounding unsure of herself.

"Whoever told you that?" Typhoeus asked, sounding a little amused as Arilla showcased some more of her human prejudices.

“Nobody, but it’s common sense, right? The ones we killed at the farm were literally smearing their shit on the walls like it was fine art!" She exclaimed.

"Goblins get smarter in larger groups. It’s unclear as to how it works exactly, probably some form of innate mind magic." Typhoeus said matter of factly.

"Innate mind magic?" She asked, trying out the words, the term unfamiliar on her lips.

"Yes, one goblin by himself knows just enough to know which end of the knife to stab you with. Five goblins can hunt with rudimentary tactics. Twenty or so will instinctively make a nest and perform basic crafting, you know, tents, leather, flint tools, and so on. Once you get to about a hundred, you start to get language and iron, and after that, things rapidly get quite messy alarmingly fast." Typhoeus said, shuddering at the unpleasant thought.

"So how many was that?" Arilla asked.

"More than twenty, less than fifty to be sure, it's tough to say as they'll have more groups out roaming the forest." He said with a shrug nonchalantly.

"So what, do they ever get smart enough to negotiate? To make peace?" Arilla asked, sounding almost hopeful.

"Technically, I suppose so, but there will never be peace. The goblins will hate humans until one or both of them are extinct." Typhoeus said after a moment of thought.

"That's stupid," Arilla said.

"That's history. It only sounds stupid because you're lacking context." He said.

"And I suppose you know that too?" She asked, sounding a little annoyed at his condescending tone.

"Of course, but before you ask, that's a very long story for another day. What we need to decide is what do we do now." Typhoeus said.

"What do you mean?" Arilla asked.

"Well, there's too many of them for a straight up fight. I’m not risking you like that. But given how many of them there are and those groups that I mentioned earlier, they'll definitely be searching the forest for meat to bring back to the tribe."

"And there are villages bordering this forest, families with children." She said, quickly catching on, her resolve hardening as she made the grim realisation.

"The safe thing to do would be to go back to Rhelea, report it to the Guild and leave the goblins for them to deal with," Typhoeus said.

"But that's a three day journey between here and there each way, plus however long it takes for a party to actually accept the bounty. And that's all assuming that Rhelea's Merchant Council even pays for extermination quests this far out. If it gets handed over to the Traylans..." She said, finishing his train of thought.

"So if we do the safe and sensible thing, then the villagers are on their own for anything between a week to maybe a month." He said, pausing to let it sink in. "Or…."

"Or what?" She asked.

"Or we try my atrocious plan," Typhoeus said, grinning.

"Let's hear it." She said, her words coming out more as a groan, her regret evident in every syllable.

"Remember earlier when I said that the goblin’s trail detoured to avoid dangerous predators." He said.

"I do." She said cautiously.

"Well then, let's go find one," Typhoeus said, his smile sending visible shivers running down Arilla's spine.