Slayn Sta.r.s.eeker’s house was at the far northern edge of Zaxon. He had moved there two years earlier, and started teaching the villagers to read and write the alphabet, becoming a well-loved teacher.

But he also had a reputation for being odd. In his little house there were piles of books everywhere, and many cabinets full of carefully labeled and organized bottles containing dried herbs and insects. He also had the habit of staring up at the sky late at night, muttering to himself. For those reasons, few dared to approach his house, but on this day, not one but two visitors stopped in.

Philmar, the village chief, was of course surprised to see another visitor, but his shock doubled when he realized that visitor was no human, but rather a dwarf. The aforementioned dwarf awkwardly introduced himself as Ghim. At that moment, Slayn was opening a bottle of ale for Ghim.

Philmar told Slayn everything — that Parn and Eto were headed off to fight the goblins. That none of the villagers wanted to help them. He asked Slayn to go save the two youngsters.

“Goblins!?!”

The one who had yelled this in anger was not Slayn, but rather Ghim.

“How many are they? Did those dirty bandits come here to get their heads cut off by my battleaxe?”

The dwarf was wearing a full suit of chain mail and carried a huge double-edged battleaxe. With his st.u.r.dy helmet decorated on both sides with horns, he looked more like a warrior ready to charge into battle than a traveler.

“Goblins and dwarves have been fighting since time immemorial,” said Slayn by way of explanation to Philmar, whose jaw had dropped at the dwarf’s sudden transformation. Since hearing the word “goblin,” Ghim had gone stock-still, as though turned into a statue.

“That’s right, they’re nothing but a band of hateful thieves! Without even knowing what to do with them, they steal the beautiful gems and metal from under the earth. Since the dawn of time, us dwarves have cut off as many of their heads as there are stars in the sky, but the b.a.s.t.a.r.ds breed like rabbits.”

“Well you know, there are infinite numbers of stars in the sky,” said Slayn softly to the dwarf. “Fortunately, there are only about twenty of them around here. But Parn and Eto can’t face that many. Did they really go on their own?”

Seeing the chief nod, Slayn realized that it was indeed likely that Parn would do such a thing. But though Slayn had only met him on his return from training, Slayn had taken Eto for a more level-headed fellow.

“Young people are no good at thinking logically, after all,” he muttered to himself. “Well, I can’t just stand by and let two such promising youngsters die. I ought to be able to take care of twenty goblins with my magic.”

“And my axe.” Ghim picked his battleaxe up off of the table and fastened it to his back.

“You`ll go?” Hope written on his face, the chief bowed deeply to Slayn.
“I, too, live in this village. Do not worry about it.”

Slayn stood as well and walked to the back of the room, where he picked up a a wooden staff. It was a strange, twisted staff, with writing in a mysterious language scratched into its surface. But of the villagers, only Philmar recognized it. It was a Sage’s Staff only those certified as mages by the Academy of Sages were permitted to own. The owner of such a staff could easily accomplish great acts of magic. That is why, when no villager answered Parn’s call, Philmar had thought that Slayn might be able to help. Of course, he had not counted on finding a goblin-hating dwarf as well…

“Knowing Parn, he must have dashed off with minimal preparation. If we don’t hurry, we might be too late. Let’s go.”

Slayn pulled a single hefty tome out of its disorderly pile. On its cover, strange words were printed in gold. To those able to decipher ancient runes, the t.i.tle read, “Slayn Sta.r.s.eeker’s Spell Book.”

About three hours east of Zaxon, a small cave mouth could be seen in a stone knoll. Once, a cheerful family of little people had lived there, but twenty years earlier they had moved and the cave had become a shelter for hunters. Children had also found it a wonderful playground, and even Parn and Eto used to play there. But since the goblins moved in, no one else had dared approach it.

Emerging from the forest and continuing along the stone path, Parn and Eto surveyed the disorderly scene in front of them. Huge boulders were scattered here and there, offering ideal hiding places where the goblins were unlikely to find them. Since goblins were creatures of darkness, they hated the midday sun above all else. The nocturnal creatures that they were, they ought to be fast asleep inside the cave during the day.

That was, of course, the reason Parn and Eto had decided to attack during the day. As long as the sun shone in the sky, Phalis’ power to destroy the darkness was at its strongest and the races of light had the advantage. Soaking up the spring sunlight, Eto and Parn closed in on the goblin den.

Eto’s strategy was a simple one First, shoot the sentinels with bow and arrow. Then light some saplings on fire at the entrance to the cave in order to smoke out the goblins. If all went well, they would come dash out in a disorderly manner, reducing their ability to fight. They would pick off as many as possible from a distance, then Parn would fight the remaining goblins with his sword and Eto would use his mace. If they put their backs to the hill so as not to be surrounded, they would probably prevail against the goblins, weakened by sunlight as they would be.

Parn was no fond of archery, but given the goblins’ number, he had reluctantly agreed. As soon as they had decided on a strategy, Parn was as cheerful as if their victory had been a.s.sured, but Eto, who had come up with the plan, was still nervous. Watching Parn unsheath his b.a.s.t.a.r.d sword with a confident expression on his face, Eto grasped his amulet and uttered a brief prayer to Phalis.

When they arrived at the cave, seeing that his worries had been realized, Eto reflexively looked up at the sky. Parn was also chewing on his lip while looking at the two ugly goblins in front of them. Their reddish-brown skin partially covered by dirty rags wrapped around them, they wore shoddily-made shortswords hanging from the straw ropes they were using as belts. They bore wooden s.h.i.+elds in their left hands and stood with their backs hunched, squinting into the sunlight. They looked somewhat like humans, but were about half as tall, and their bare limbs were thin and k.n.o.bby, like gnarled wood. They had no hair at all, and their eyes and ears seemed too big for their faces. Their noses were so flat that they looked like little more than two holes, and their mouths formed a wide gash in their faces, revealing their yellowed canines and blood-red tongues.

Not seeing Parn and Eto hiding in the shade of the rocks, the goblins were fidgeting, as though bored.

“Looks like we need to change our plan,” said Eto. They had only expected one watchman. If there had only been one, they would have been able to take him out in one go, with both Parn’s bow and Eto’s sling. But that plan had crumbled. If one of them missed his target, the rest of the plan would fail as well.

His uncertainty showing, Eto took his sling out of his pack and cast about for stones to throw.

“I’ll aim for the one on the right, you shoot the left one.” Parn pulled his bow off of his shoulder and strung it. He removed two oak arrows with falcon feather flights from his quiver and put them to the string.

Eto put a stone in his sling and slowly began to swing it around. Parn pulled back his bowstring.

“Now!”

As soon as he was sure of his aim, Eto gave the signal and fired. The arrow and the stone flew towards the watchmen at the same time.

“Gah!”

Both the arrow and the stone hit their targets and the two goblins wobbled on their feet. One of them crumpled to the ground.

But Eto saw what had happened. His stone had hit one goblin on the head, but Parn’s arrow had missed the other goblin’s vital spot and hit its shoulder instead. It was still alive!

Kashunk!

Parn shot the remaining goblin in its misshapen belly. Bright red blood gushed from the wound as it collapsed to the ground.

“Well, we’ve got no choice. We’ll just have to kill them one by one.”

With a great clanking noise, Parn and Eto shot out of the shadows of the rock in unison. Parn draw his b.a.s.t.a.r.d sword and lifted it up as though aiming for the sun. For a moment, light flashed along the blade.

While rehearsing his plan, Eto pulled two flasks filled with oil from his pocket. He threw them towards the cave mouth. They broke with a loud crack, splas.h.i.+ng their contents around.

But by the time he got out his flint, he knew he wouldn’t make it in time.
Disgusting creatures were pouring out of the cave.

Luckily, a number of goblins slipped on the oil covering the ground around the entrance. One of them fell down the rock face with a strange grunt, hit its head, and stopped moving.

“Die, you b.a.s.t.a.r.ds!” Parn’s yell echoed.

“Parn, let’s put our backs to the rock so they can’t surround us.”

Eto stopped Parn from charging head-first into the group of goblins and backed up against the boulder where they had hidden. Parn followed his example.

“Careful! They poison their blades!”

Since they had their backs to the rock, there was no risk of being surrounded, but they still had to fight against no less than twenty enemies. With many of them all around, it was too late for Parn and Eto to run. The fight would go on until they either collapsed or defeated all the goblins.

Parn was of course skillfully wielding his sword and s.h.i.+eld like a true warrior. While blocking one attack with his s.h.i.+eld, he struck out at another enemy with his sword. The goblin injured by his attack dropped like a rock, blood spurting from its shoulder. Parn finished it off with a blow to the back. It was nothing compared to what a veteran soldier might have done, but it was good enough for fighting goblins. Eto, too, had received combat training at the temple of Phalis. He could hold his own with mace and s.h.i.+eld. And Eto moved faster than Parn. Dodging a goblin’s attack with deft footwork, he put all his power into a strike of his mace.

The sharp sounds on metal on metal and the dull sound of metal smas.h.i.+ng into flesh filled the air. The goblins went down one by one under the blows of the two young men.

But there was a limit. Eto, inexperienced in combat as he was, began to tire, his breath growing ragged and his hands shaking.

When he noticed Eto’s fatigue, Parn began to fight more vigorously, in the hopes of finis.h.i.+ng it quickly. With wide blows, he attacked the goblins facing Eto as well. Because of this, Parn too began to tire, but his greater combat training gave him more reserves.

Somehow they had reduced the goblins to half their original numbers. The foul stench of ten bloodied goblin corpses floated in the air. But the remaining goblins climbed over their comrade’s corpses and fought with a renewed determination, as though their anger had overcome their fear. Goblins who felt sure of winning were fearsome enemies.

“I guess this is it,” muttered Parn.

Even he was weakening. Seeing Eto burst into a coughing fit and lean weakly against the rock, Parn made up his mind.

He threw down his s.h.i.+eld, held his b.a.s.t.a.r.d sword in both hands, and leaned forward. To motivate himself, he let out a strange yell.

“Ooo!”

And then he began.

He rammed into the two goblins trying to deal a finis.h.i.+ng blow to the weakened Eto and on into a clump of four goblins, swinging his sword wildly like a berserker.

I wonder if you can call this an honorable death? Parn thought as he swung his sword. Dying in battle ought to be a good death for a warrior. But when his own father had met his end in a desperate battle against bandits when Parn was little, it had been called a dishonorable death, and he and his mother had been forced to flee Valis. Parn’s mother had died in an epidemic when he was ten. Since then, Parn had lived by hunting in the forest and helping in the fields. At sixteen he had donned his father’s armor and signed on as a mercenary in Flaim, where he fought the desert tribes for two years. Afterward, he had returned to the village, where he helped defend the village, all while waiting for another chance to sell his services as a mercenary.

If he died dishonorably, what meaning was there in his life?

Just then, he felt something hot burn into his left shoulder. The pain shot through his body. A goblin had stabbed him from behind. Blood spurted out and stained his shoulder red.

Enduring the tooth-clenching pain, Parn spun around and cut down the goblin that had injured him. But, fighting in such difficult conditions, Parn lost his balance. As he crumpled under the weight of his armor, he tried to dig his spurs into the ground. Parn was helpless as he struck the ground with a great clanging and banging. Sparks flew where the metal hit the rock.

Another goblin leapt forward, taking advantage of the moment. Parn felt pain shoot through his left thigh. He saw that a goblin had thrust its short sword into his thigh and was trying to pull it out. As the goblin yanked on the sword, waves of pain washed over Parn. When he thought the pain had pa.s.sed, he felt himself lose control over his muscles. The poison on the blade was starting to take effect.

Parn desperately tried to stand, but he no longer had the energy. As he gave in to his intense fatigue, Parn turned his head to see how Eto was doing. As he did so, the immense blue sky filled his gaze. The sight of it, with not one cloud in view, seemed to fill Parn with a strange satisfaction. Looking up at the sky, he let go of his sword and lay spread-eagled on the ground.

Parn watched the disgusting creatures plunge their swords towards his chest as though it was happening to someone else.

It was right then! An arrow sprouted from the chest of the goblin that was trying to kill him. With a sort of sigh the goblin collapsed, and Parn could hear another voice call out.

It was a language Parn had never heard before.

Along with that voice, the air seemed to thicken, and the world seemed to go dark as Parn pa.s.sed out. As he lost consciousness, something bright flashed through his mind.

I see, that’s how it is… Dad! Parn shouted inside his heart.

And then the darkness took him.

“Well, it looks like we made it,” muttered Slayn as he watched Ghim finish off the goblin with a crossbow. As the other goblins turned to look, Slayn uttered a few words in the ancient runic tongue.

“Ô peaceful airs that bring sleep.”

While reciting the spell, Slayn slowly waved his staff in the air. Three of the goblin reinforcements suddenly fell as though the life had fled from their bodies. Only two were left.

Ghim switched from his crossbow to his axe and jumped into the fray. Victory was decided in an instant. The goblin’s head flew through the air, its face frozen in shock. The one remaining goblin turned to run, but Ghim cut it in half. The goblin’s upper body fell to the ground with a thud, while the legs staggered unsteadily forward before collapsing in turn. The blood gus.h.i.+ng from the wound stained the ground red.

“Please finish off the sleeping goblins.”

While saying this, Slayn carefully surveyed his surroundings. He couldn’t see a single goblin that was still moving.

Slayn faced the cave and concentrated. Then he chanted briefly in the ancient tongue. Using magic to magnify his perceptions, he cast mental feelers into the cave. He tasted the air in the cave, seeking out any remaining goblins. When his mind had touched the back wall of the cave, Slayn stopped chanting.

“It would seem the coast is clear,” Slayn said happily to Ghim, who was busy cutting goblin necks.

“I’m all done here too. I made sure all of them are dead.”

Slayn nodded. Then he walked over to Parn, who was still lying on the ground, and touched his neck. Something warm seeped onto his hand.

He’s alive, but badly wounded. Slayn called Ghim over in a loud voice. “Help me out over here! If we don’t hurry and get him home, it could be too late!”