Delver Magic Book III: Balance of Fate

Delver Magic

Book III

Balance of Fate

Jeff Inlo

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2008 Jeff Inlo

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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120120904

By Jeff Inlo

Fantasy:

Delver Magic Book I – Sanctum’s Breach

Delver Magic Book II – Throne of Vengeance

Delver Magic Book III – Balance of Fate

Delver Magic Book IV – Nightmare's Shadow

Delver Magic Book V – Chain of Bargains

Delver Magic Book VI (January 2013)

Spiritual Thriller:

Soul View

Soul Chase

When Do I See God? (by Jeff Ianniello)

Science Fiction:

Alien Cradle

Humor:

Counterproductive Man

For Joan, thanks for being my destiny!!

Once again, I would like to offer my sincere thanks to Christine Bell for sticking with this series and doing more than I could possibly imagine.

I also would like to thank all of thse wonderful people that have sent me notes regarding my books. It is the encouraging words from these kind readers that have inspired me to keep writing.

Chapter 1

I wonder what spell could possibly be cast that would allow an ordinary person to mimic your skills. Watching you is almost beyond belief.

Ryson Acumen shook his head and replied with a laugh. This said by a wizard that is right now flying over my head.

Indeed, Enin was quite literally flying just above the tree tops, but the delver’s response was lost on the wizard. Swooping and gliding through the air, Enin continued to peer through the leafless branches as he studied the delver from nearly every angle. Trying to categorize Ryson’s movements and match them to a potential spell, however, proved much more difficult than flying and even more elusive than the cold wind that blew through the clear blue skies of this day. Watching the delver closely, the wizard marveled at how Ryson could leap, run, twist and turn—basically dance without rest or pause—through, over and under the myriad of obstacles the forest presented.

As he often did, Enin began to speak out loud, more to himself than anyone else, as he considered the purpose of his desire.

So many different aspects, even animal tendencies, I see perfect qualities of nature within you. You move with the grace of so many different animals at once, it would be almost impossible for me to try and match your powers with any spell, or even series of spells, that might match the particular skills of a single animal. I mean really, you move like a cat but without the predatory aim. You dart about like a fish in the sea, but without the haphazard defensive response.

Sounds like a catfish, Ryson offered playfully.

The wizard ignored him. And it’s not just simulating the advantages of different animals, it goes well beyond that. There’s definitely an instinctive quality in the way you move, instinctive like a horse that gallops effortlessly just because it can. And it goes beyond animal instinct, you have the very essence of nature within you. You have a quality of the wind about you. Your movements flow steadily yet you can change directions with ease. The problem is you don’t swirl, that means a wind definition would be very difficult. No, wind movement wouldn’t work. Shame actually. The problem is compounded by the fact that you create very little heat which amazes me to this moment, so I wouldn’t even begin to know how to add an element of fire for lift. The power that allows you to move the way you do seems to be beyond the normal elements of nature.

Enin willed himself forward at a greater pace. He was having a difficult time keeping up with the delver at these speeds even though his path was clear of all obstacles while Ryson faced a continuous barrage of trees and underbrush that filled Dark Spruce Forest. Still, Enin remained focused on his spell considerations and his desire to match Ryson’s speed forced him forward at a faster pace.

There are so many different facets to magical energies—wind, fire, water, air, shadow, illusion, light—I find it amazing to see so many close connections with your abilities, yet I still can’t define with accuracy even one component. I believe there is definitely an inherent connection to the land, but it’s even harder for me to pinpoint that one. Some science-loving egghead once told me about magnetism and how it might help explain the magical energies. Well, this man’s ramblings went on and on with no clear point but—.

Not like yours, of course, Ryson chuckled to himself.

Enin ignored the implication. The point is he just didn’t want to admit that magic existed, which kind of threw his whole perspective out of balance. I mean really, how can you deny that magic exists when you are staring into the face of a mountain shag or a river rogue? While his overall theory was truly absurd, he did have some interesting points. I always have to keep in mind that the physical world does intertwine with the magical energies. It wouldn’t surprise me if somehow or other the idea of magnetism is somehow linked with your powers. The land has its own magical properties and they seem to be present in you as well.

Ryson did not stop moving, but he did call out louder this time with the obvious intention of being heard. He found this consideration interesting and didn’t want the wizard to dismiss his question. "You’ve said that word before when you analyzed me, powers. Sounds to me as if you think I’m using magic like you do. Is that what you think?"

Like me? the wizard sounded almost baffled at first. No, no, no—not like me at all. With that said, the wizard floated down into the trees and closer to ground level so that he could carry on this new conversation more personally. He continued to fly as it was the best way he could keep up with the delver, but he felt the discussion at hand was now more sensitive and he felt the need to be closer to Ryson before he spoke. One of the most amazing things about the magic is how differently it affects each one of us as well as each race. You know what is most amazing about the delvers?

Enlighten me.

You don’t use the magic, you are the magic.

Ryson raised an eyebrow at the wizard. Come again? I am the magic? I have no idea what that means. The delver continued moving, albeit at a much slower pace to accommodate the wizard that now had to navigate through the trees as well. Ryson didn’t want to move too far away from Enin mostly because he wanted to hear this explanation.

The wizard heaved a heavy breath as he tried to place his words in a context that Ryson could understand. He didn’t feel he had to speak down to the delver, but there was a lack of equal reference points. He understood magic in ways almost no one else in the land could. For him to speak of magic to another, it was almost like explaining music to someone totally tone deaf. He grabbed on the story of legend that ended up being so consequential to Ryson and the return of magic to Uton.

When Ingar made that sphere of his, Enin began, it was supposed to remove all the magical energy in the land. It did, but only that energy that was free. It could not remove energy that was kept internally. That’s why magic casters were afraid to cast spells after the sphere was created. Once they let it out of their being, it was free to be absorbed by the sphere. Magic that is held to, or stored within, was safe from the sphere as long as it is not cast free. You follow this logic, yes?

Yes.

Very good. Keeping with that thought, you should be able to follow that magic is absorbed in different ways by different creatures. Some can store great quantities, some are incapable of storing any at all. Some are very susceptible to spells, and others are very resistant. These qualities can vary greatly in degree. For whatever reason, I was given the gift to do more than just store and use magical energy. I have a very deep and personal connection to it. I can store vast amounts internally and I can draw energies from various sources from great distances.

Won’t argue that, Ryson allowed. Doesn’t answer the question, though, which is what does that have to do with me?

Not just you, all delvers. You don’t store the magic to use it. You don’t absorb it from the land, sea and air. Well, I shouldn’t say that, that’s not exactly true. You have the ability to be a magic caster, I’ve told you that before. You could use the magic in spells, but that’s not what I’m talking about. I’m talking about the abilities that make you a delver, those qualities that set you apart from other races. Didn’t you ever really stop to think about how you can do the things you do? It’s magical power, but you don’t cast it. You are born with it. The magic is a very part of you, like your skin.

You’re kidding right?

How else would you explain the way you move, how you can travel so far so fast and without tiring the way no one else in the land can?

Elves can move pretty quickly, Ryson offered.

You and I both know an elf is no match for a delver in what we’re talking about.

But elves are quicker than dwarves and humans.

Indeed they are, and the magic affects them differently as well. Enin shook his head as if flustered. He was not making his point as well as he wished. To a degree, you are right. Elves are also born with the magic within them. That is why elves can do the things they do. They move lightly and quickly, see for great distances, so yes, you are right. I shouldn’t have been so quick to dismiss that. Elves are born with the magic, but not quite like delvers, not to the same extent, that’s what I meant. Delvers are born with a great deal of magical energy inherent in their bodies. It doesn’t have to be used as spells, but it gives you certain powers—ah abilities.

Ryson frowned for a moment as he continued through his own path in the forest. If all this is true, then why didn’t the sphere wipe out the elves and the delvers when it was created by Ingar? I’m not talking about the poison that was killing the elves. I’m talking about making the magic disappear. Dark creatures disappeared. Magic-casters disappeared. Why didn’t the delvers and the elves all cease to exist when the sphere captured all the magic and was buried in Sanctum?

It’s like I said, Enin answered, the sphere could only capture free magic and it captured every shred of free magic it could. The magic that is within delvers, and to a lesser extent within elves, is never free. It is created at your birth and stays within you at all times. Dark creatures need free magic in the air to remain in this realm. Magic-casters need to capture and absorb magic to continue casting spells. Delvers and elves don’t need magic free across the land to exist in this realm, but that doesn’t mean the magic isn’t part of them.

So you’re saying I’m a magical being.

That is exactly what I’m saying and exactly why I’m trying to determine if I could cast a spell that would allow a non-delver to move as a delver.

You want to duplicate me?

Not you, Enin explained, just your powers. Now where was I? The wizard floated back up to a higher level to watch the delver move from a different perspective without having to worry about crashing into a tree. He began speaking about spells again as if he never departed from his earlier thoughts. You flow like water, but even that’s not a fair assessment. Water is fluid and thus its movements tend to be loose in scope and direction. Still, when you splash water, droplets can dart in well defined paths. If I were to include water qualities in the spell, it would have to be that of a well defined stream as opposed to a massive wave. Perhaps more ice than water.

Enin suddenly grumbled with frustration. This is most perplexing. I believe I can easily simulate part of the things you do with one spell, but that would represent only a small portion of your delver qualities. I could give someone speed, and maybe stamina, but not the same grace. I could give balance and athleticism but not the same awareness of the surroundings. No, to duplicate your abilities with any degree of accuracy, it would require a series of spells and most likely they would have the effect of canceling each other out.

I guess if you need the skills of a delver, you’ll just have to call on me. Just won’t be able to conjure one up by waving your hand over some bug or something. Shame.

It is indeed a shame. Your movements are quite extraordinary. To duplicate them would allow for transportation methods that might be unheard of. Imagine if we could give a team of horses the movement capabilities of a delver. Think of it.

I think I’d rather fly, Ryson responded.

Enin shook his head strenuously. Horses flying? No, that would not be a good thing.

Not the horses. Me. I’ve watched you cast that flying spell and I’ve always been envious.

The way you move and you are envious of me? the wizard asked revealing a great deal of surprise.

You can fly, so yes I am. I always wondered why you don’t cast that spell on others. You know, you could allow some of the guard at Burbon to fly around on patrol. They could scout the area better.

I can’t cast it on someone else. It’s purely a matter of control. The spell is almost constantly and instantaneously altered with my own thoughts and movements. It has to be. If I cast it on someone else, the results would be disastrous. Now I can make you float, and I can move you from one area to another by levitating you, as long as you don’t resist me, but I can’t give you the same power of flight that I have right now. As I said, the spell requires constant and instantaneous updating. The moment you wanted to move in a new direction and the spell wasn’t corrected properly for that desire, you’d probably end up rocketing beyond the horizon.

That would be bad.

Indeed, like horses flying, Enin added.

Ryson shrugged. Ok, so I can’t fly, doesn’t mean I don’t want to.

But you can fly. The wizard offered without a hint of doubt. Not with a flying spell like I do, but if you want to experience the sensation of flying, that can be done under your own power.

Ryson pulled to a slow stop. Explain that one to me. You’re telling me I can fly? Like a bird?

Almost exactly like a bird, and I can show you as long as you understand you must adjust your perception.

Once more, explain please.

Enin looked about the landscape over the trees. He quickly spotted an area that suited his purpose. He pointed in that direction as he called down to the delver.

Ok, I need to move you to open ground. There is a nice area over to the Southwest. Do you want to run there or should I levitate you there?

I’ll get there myself, Ryson stated with certainty. When you levitate me, I always feel like I’m about to be dropped on my head.

Hmmph. I would only drop you if you resist me. I could transport a hundred people or more at once if I had to, as long as they just allowed me to move them. Nobody likes being moved, though, and they always complain. They start fighting it and then they start falling. It’s not me, it’s them.

I’ll meet you there, Ryson stated with a degree of finality.

Fine.

Ryson took off in a blur and stopped in the middle of a clearing. He looked over the level ground that extended on a wide path beyond the edge of a nearby stream. He realized it was a flood plain which would explain the lack of trees in this localized area. The ground was hard, mostly frozen from the colder night temperatures. A few areas thawed slightly from the midday sun, but even these patches remained firm. For the most part, the ground was comprised of matted down, dormant high grass. Several rocks littered the area, but not enough to worry about.

Enin flew into the clearing and down closer to the delver as there were no longer any trees to impede his path. Now first, you have to remove all expectations of what you think flying will be like. Can you do that?

I can try.

Well, try hard. Next, survey the surroundings so you have a good idea of what you are going to be running over.

I thought I was going to be flying, not running.

Enin sighed in exasperation. You’re not trying very hard.

Oh, sorry. Anyway, I already gave the ground a once over. Looks clear to me.

Excellent. Now, I need you to set yourself up at one end of the clearing so you have the entire expanse available for one straight run. Move over to the far northern border of this clearing and face south.

The delver complied with a blur of motion and within a heartbeat stood at the far northern end of the clearing, facing south toward its full expanse.

Enin shouted even though the delver’s keen hearing would have allowed him to hear Enin whisper from even this greater distance. I’m going to cast a wind spell, a small one. It will only create a constant rush of air that will flow into your face. I’m doing that not to give you extra lift or anything like that, so don’t try to float on the breeze. I just want to make sure you have the sensation of wind in your face. After I cast the spell, I want you to run into the wind, but not like a delver. I want you to run with long bounding strides that send you as much upward as they do forward. I want you to run with timing as well, one…two…three… at that pace. It has to be slow, smooth and steady. Do you understand?

Ryson nodded.

While you run, I want you to put your arms out to the side. Don’t flap them or anything silly like that. You’re not a bird, so don’t act like one. Simply hold them up, but beyond that, keep them as relaxed as possible. Ready?

Ryson nodded again.

With that, Enin flicked his wrists and two perfect circles of white energy appeared at his palms. He whispered a few inaudible words and pressed his hands outward. The two circles of energy flowed out toward the delver, collapsing into the air as a stiff breeze now pushed forward in their place.

When Ryson felt the flow of air, he did as the wizard asked. He ran due south directly into the wind. His legs pressed him both forward and upward in what appeared to be a slow dash of one leap after another. He stretched his arms out to his sides, but kept his muscles relaxed. As he continued through the clearing, he waited to be lifted high up into the air. To his disappointment, he never left the ground. When he reached the boundary of trees at the far end of the clearing, he turned back to Enin.

What went wrong?

Nothing went wrong, that is to say, nothing beyond your perception of what was to happen. You expected to be soaring above the trees like a bird, yes?

Yes.

I didn’t say you had the power to soar above the trees, I said you had the power within you to realize the sensation of flying. If you consider what you just did, and what a bird does, you’d realize that you felt what it’s like for a bird to fly. A bird must flap its wings to gain lift and momentum. As it lifts in the air, it can soar for distances without flapping its wings, but it still must work to some extent to remain airborne for any length of time. Instead of flapping wings, you propelled yourself with your legs. You left the ground and remained in the air until you came back to the ground and then propelled yourself up once more. It’s the same concept as flying only in shorter bursts and lower to the ground.

Well, that’s disappointing to say the least, Ryson stated with a dissatisfied tone.

Disappointing? Nonsense. As far as sensation goes, it is all the same. Perception, that’s all that’s different, but you can change your perception. With the wind in your face and your legs pressing you forward, you feel what the bird feels. As that same wind rushes past your ears, you hear what the bird hears. As you look to your left and right and see the landscape pass you by, you see what the bird sees. If instead of the clearing you ran through the trees, you would know what it’s like for a bird to soar through branches. Perception! Focus on it. Understand that what you are doing is no different then what the bird is doing. The bird is simply lighter so it can stay off the ground longer. It can beat its wings against the air while you must press your feet against the ground, but in those moments that your feet have propelled you off the ground and into the air, you are truly in flight. It may only be for scant moments, but for those moments, as brief as they are, you are as the bird. Perception.

Ryson frowned.

Enin, however, would not give up. Give it a try one more time and free your mind of your expectations as I first asked of you. Feel the wind in your face and look about you all at once. When you leave the ground, focus on that very instant—not on what will happen next, not on the fact that you will eventually land, but on that instant that you are in midair. When you think too far in the future, even a mere instant in the future, you know you will fall to the ground. If, however, you can focus on a single instant in the present, then you will not care about what will happen next. You will only know what is happening now. You are in the air, you are moving, thus you are flying!

Alright, I’ll give it a try. It’s just not what I expected. With that Ryson turned and took off once more. He concentrated on the moments he was in the air. He felt the wind in his face and across his outstretched arms. At the very moment he was at the peak of his elevation off the ground, he finally began to realize what Enin was saying. He was airborne. He was moving forward. He was, in a fashion, flying.

Enin smiled from a distance and cast another quick spell. This time the air did not move, but the space around the delver shimmered ever so slightly. The delver appeared to be caught in suspended animation, but only for a moment. The shimmering effect quickly dissolved and Ryson again was moving as normal.

Whoa! the delver shouted. What did you just do?

The wizard smiled broadly. Let’s see, how would I describe it? It was kind of a floating dimension spell, no, actually more like I suspended time around you. Well, that’s not really it either, because time always marches on. However, you know when an important event is about to happen and everything sort of slows down around you? Well, that’s what I did for you. That way you could really appreciate that moment you were gliding across the air, flying if you will.

Seemed like I was flying forever there for a moment, Ryson replied almost gleefully as he turned and raced back toward the wizard.

Barely a few moments, actually, but in your mind those moments were extended. You were able to think and react and even move as if everything else around you was placed in a state of slower motion.

Thank you very much, that was more of what I expected. It really did feel like I was flying.

Only because you allowed yourself to perceive beyond what you thought you knew. When I saw that, I knew you were ready to experience the sensation.

With those words, Ryson suddenly stopped in his tracks. He stood stone still as his eyes narrowed and his chin lifted slightly into the air.

The delver’s reaction was not lost upon the wizard and Enin immediately tried to gain Ryson’s attention. Can I ask why you are doing that? Well, I know why you’re doing that, you’re sensing something. That’s obvious, but what is it that you think you’re sensing? Can you describe it?

At first Ryson appeared to ignore the wizard, he continued to tilt his head from one side then to the other. His eyes would not fix on anything in the distance and he did not bother to sniff the wind. Instead, he simply moved his head slowly about as if the skin on his face could catch something very elusive in the breeze, like a single strand of a spider web caught on his brow. Finally, he spoke without looking toward Enin, without looking toward anything at all.

I don’t know… I really don’t. It’s something magical, that’s about all I can say for sure.

Enin began to question Ryson further, but caught himself and stopped. He grunted about something inaudibly until he finally spoke with almost guarded words. I’ve seen you like this before over the past few days. The fact that you say it’s magical is a serious consideration. I’m most curious about what you think is the source of this sensation.

I don’t know what to tell you, Ryson offered. Ever since the sphere was destroyed, I’ve always felt the magic. It was new to the land, basically it still is. It seems to be everywhere and sensing it is a feeling I am getting used to, but this isn’t quite the same. It’s powerful—powerful but deceptive. Sometimes I think its hiding, then again I find that hard to believe. I actually believe that whatever it is, it knows I can sense it right now. Still, it doesn’t care; doesn’t try to mask itself beyond whatever it’s doing to keep in secret as it is. I know that doesn’t make sense.

No, that I can understand. Keep going. What else do you feel?

Well, what I feel is difficult to put into words. Dry. That’s what comes to mind. Not dry like the desert or dry like thirsty, but still dry. At first I was going to say dread, but that’s not really it. When you dread something, you know it’s coming and you hope it doesn’t. Dread is heavy, suppressing. This isn’t the same. This is more empty than heavy, but then again empty doesn’t quite explain it either. I keep coming back to dry.

I see. Enin wanted to ask more, but his own attention was quickly pulled in another direction. With a distinct mutter of dissatisfaction, he quickly turned and peered with great intent to the Northeast. He lifted his left hand above his shoulder and flicked his fingers in an odd fashion. Immediately, two snow white circles again danced about his left hand. They slipped off his fingers into midair, crashed together in an almost powdery explosion, and disappeared leaving behind a small distortion in the air. Enin focused deeply into this fist-sized mass of twisted, blurry air.

Sazar! he said bluntly. Must be. Too many creatures to be anyone else this close. Goblins, a good many of them, a river rogue, a couple of shags, maybe even more than two, hard to say, a hook hawk, even a rock beetle. Has to be Sazar.

Ryson spoke out with an even but commanding tone. He wanted to be heard by the wizard and he wanted an immediate answer.

Where?

Pinesway.

You’re sure?

Without a doubt. I’ve cast several web spells near areas that might give us advanced warning of any movement that might affect Burbon. Pinesway always offered itself as a staging area for some unpleasant creatures. That’s why most of the people abandoned it. One of the web spells I cast there just sent me a warning. I just cast a sight spell to connect to it and other web spells I placed in the area. I can see the creatures I described to you. They are swarming over the town.

A vision of the monsters raiding Pinesway crashed into Ryson’s thoughts. He didn’t like what he envisioned. Can we help?

We’d never reach the few that are left in time. The town is mostly deserted, thank Godson. Those that remain will either escape safely or meet their fate. There’s nothing we can do.

Nothing at all?

Enin grimaced. No. I’m sorry.

Ryson’s hands fell to his sides in clenched fists. I’m really beginning to hate that serp.

Enin heaved another heavy sigh as the bubble of distortion faded before him. I think we should get back to Burbon. I need to tell Sy what I’ve seen. I doubt it will be a threat to us at this instant, but he needs to know. I must ask that you allow me to move us both together. If you wanted to, you can run faster than I can fly, but I’m not just going to levitate. I’m going to—hmmmm, how should I say it? The egghead that liked science might state that I was bending space. If that helps you understand, then I’ll leave it at that. In essence, I’m going to reduce the distance we have to travel, but we have to move together.

Whatever you have to do, Ryson allowed.

Chapter 2

Intermittent screams of fear and pain echoed through the shadowed alleys of Pinesway. Tall grass and abandoned carts muffled the sounds in spots, but there was little else to cover the sporadic sounds of panic. There was no alarm, no shouts of militia, no bark of guard dogs—no sound of any organized resistance whatsoever. It was during broad daylight, yet there were no markets full of suddenly panicked shoppers, no offices filled with curious clerks, and no stalls busy with concerned laborers. As the few but unmistakable sounds of sheer terror initially blistered through the streets, a light breeze scattered dust across the empty roads, very little of anything else stirred.

The bulk of Pinesway’s residents abandoned the town immediately after the very first goblin raid. Those that remained after the initial raid quickly realized that their lack of numbers now made them an even greater target. When a river rogue staked a territorial claim at the town’s northwestern edge and shags started making frequent appearances to the south, even the hardy homesteaders that needed little to scratch a living decided to leave as well. When the dormant season took hold of the small town, the resident population was mostly made up of vagrants, petty bandits, opportunistic thieves, homeless wanderers, and a handful of stubborn citizens that refused to leave their homes for any reason.

Joel Portsmith was a citizen of the latter. He was considered an old cantankerous man by his neighbors before the magic returned to Uton. He didn’t care. He didn’t particularly like people. He worked his whole life at the docks of towns along the western shores. He saved his money, found a woman that could stand him enough to marry him, and the two of them eventually moved inland, away from the ocean he never truly cared for. He built his house with his own hands, and then served as a volunteer in the town’s militia as a way to defend his home. His woman was killed in that first goblin raid. He buried her in his backyard when others loaded their carts to run for Connel or some other larger city. He wouldn’t run—he would stay, no matter what.

Joel let the exterior of his own home appear to be as abandoned as those around it. He broke boards with nails in them and scattered them around the porch. He didn’t plan to sit out there as a target for a goblin arrow, so why should he care if the new decorations made the porch more of a hazard than a pleasant place to relax. He broke the front gate in a locked position so it was near impossible to move. Only he knew that the section of fence two posts down to the left could swing open for easy entry. He let the weeds and grass grow long, nailed shut the windows, and threw broken glass about the front walk. He pulled the shutters closed and nailed them in place. He left the front door barred from the inside and out. A walk-down basement door was sufficient for his use, so the loss of the front entrance was inconsequential.

From the street, his house looked dark, decaying and long devoid of any real care, as if it had been the town eyesore even before the other residents abandoned their homes. And that was exactly what he wanted. A clean, well-kept looking house was an invitation to other less desirable visitors to this town, visitors he had no desire to entertain. Let the vagrants and bandits choose another home to camp in.

Inside, however, the house was clean and simply organized. He had everything he needed to survive—warm clothes, utensils, blankets, comfortable places to sit and sleep, as well as a few diversions such as books, wood carving tools, and a spy glass to keep an eye on the surrounding streets. Those supplies he would run out of over time—food, water, and wood for a fire in a small stove that he would only burn at night—these items he could collect easily from other abandoned buildings in town or from the nearby forest. Since he didn’t mind being alone, he was content to stay and live with the threat of river rogues, shags, and goblin raids.

It was from inside his house that he heard the first indications of the current unrest. He immediately knew that something very odd was going on outside. He had grown aware of certain sounds, learned to listen for hints of dark creatures and how these noises differed from a brigand fight or the mugging of a hapless wanderer. The current commotion clearly indicated a goblin attack even though the sun was now shining bright and goblins usually used the cover of darkness. This in itself perplexed Joel, but more ominous was the combination of additional noises that indicated something much more than a goblin raid was occurring outside his door.

The shrieking caw of a hook hawk flying overhead could not be dismissed at any time of day. The fact that it mixed in with the guttural rants of goblins nearby made Joel cringe. During previous days to pass the time, he had watched hook hawks from afar. He learned that these flying nightmares particularly enjoyed snacking on goblins, thus goblins usually scattered when one was nearby. For whatever reason, they were not scattering now.

The sounds he could currently make out from the goblins in the distance were not the fearful squeals of disorganized panic as he would expect, but more of war shouts, and these sounded as if they extended all around the town. That also confused Joel. Goblins usually ran in, quickly took what they deemed important, and then ran out. They didn’t take time to whoop and holler. Mixed in with these indiscernible ravings, Joel could make out the screams of humans. It almost sounded as if the goblins were actually targeting the thieves that nested in this otherwise deserted place. Shrieks from these hunted victims continued to grow and Joel began to wonder just what he was up against.

Through past experience, he knew enough when to sit tight and when to move out. It all depended on the situation and the enemy. Human bandits and thieves that entered the town with the intent to stir up trouble wouldn’t go house to house looking for valuables, they were too lazy. They normally appraised targets from the outside. They looked for sizable warehouses or fancy large houses with grand ornamentation, thus his home was always ignored. Goblins, however, weren’t as picky.

With goblins, Joel could never be completely sure of their intentions. He watched them in darkness on several different occasions to assess their tactics. For the most part, he could predict their movements once he figured out what they really wanted. If they were just eyeing some finished wood or a cart, they would just take what they wanted and leave. If they were in search of weapons or tools, they would seek larger buildings, enter, and ransack the place. Every now and then, however, they would also enter ordinary residences and come out with blankets, clothes, and even drawers full of useless junk—as if the piles of worthless scrap actually held some true value. These particular raids were the most worrisome for Joel, because if Goblins simply wanted to collect odds and ends, they might enter his house if they happened to turn up his street. These were the times Joel would not allow himself to be caught trapped inside with no way of escape.

The problem Joel now faced was that he simply could not fathom exactly what was going on outside from the confusing sounds he was hearing. People were dying, of that he was sure. That disturbed him as he never encountered the goblins actively hunting down the remaining residents of Pinesway. Shags and the river rogue did their share of hunting, but not when a hook hawk was screeching above in the day-lit sky.

Joel peered out a broken slit in an upstairs shutter with his spyscope hoping to gain a better perspective of what was going on outside. He saw little that made him happy.

Blasted goblins are moving in coordinated patterns, he grumbled to himself. OK, they’re not raiding the area, they’re securing it. What the blazes are they up to? And a shag standing right next to them with a hook hawk overhead! Not good.

Joel didn’t need to see anymore. This was not the time to risk sticking it out in his home, it was better to be on the move. With a decision made, he did what he always does before he opts for different ground. He hid his most important supplies under loose boards in a dark corner of an empty bedroom and more behind a fake wall of the back closet. He surveyed the area making sure that nothing of any value appeared in sight. He threw a dusty, old, moth-eaten blanket over one chair and tipped another one over on its side. He scattered some broken glass he kept in a jar across the floor and table tops and quickly climbed down the stairs into the cellar.

When he reached the large tin door that opened upward to the back yard, he realized he was now in a bit of uncharted territory. He never made this type of move in daylight before. Streaks of sunlight broke through the edges of the door and made long glowing lines on the floor.

Blasted bright out there, he grunted lightly to himself. Ok, how to do this without being seen?

He knew where he wanted to go first, and he went over the path he would take in his mind. He believed there would be sufficient cover of overgrown hedges that would block sight of him from street level.