I grow weary. My supplies are low. Can I go on? I check my pack. Two rations of fish, and a few apples I've found in the countryside are all I have left, with no end to my journey in sight. I've been heading north from Fantrima for days now.
At times I am overwhelmed. So much rests on my shoulders. So many burdens to bear, with failure not an option.
I'm searching for a logging camp, sent north to help the lumberjacks there finish a bridge to Berghlum. Once this has been accomplished, I hope to convince them to help build a barrier against invasion from the south.
Movement to my right. I see a greenish blur and hear chattering. I raise my shield to block the onrushing spear of an enraged goblin. It glances off my Utian shield. The abomination is finished off with a single strike from an ancient sword, long ago forged in the magic flames of Elven fires.
When I last left Fantrima, I spent most of my savings and plunder on the best arms in Smithy Galbraith's stall. I was so confident in my new arms, and secure in my new armor that I purchased only a small stock of supplies from good Karolynna. My confidence now proved to be arrogance, my security false and fleeting. True, the goblins that had once been so life threatening were now only a nuisance, but I'd encountered beasts of nightmares and demons of legends only a few days north of familiar territory. I'd forged ahead, and now was so far north my only option was to continue. Returning was not an option as I no longer had the supplies to go back so far as I'd already come.
All of these worries were cleared from my mind as I saw more movement ahead. Knives spun at me from the edge of the wood. I turned to face my attacker and felt blows to my back and side. I was surrounded by goblins and wizards. I relied on my Drivatan armor to ward off most of the attacks and hacked my way clear.
The evil beasts closed in tighter, oblivious to my Elven sword arcing like a silver disk of light, clearing the darkness from my path. Previously the beasts had run from such certain destruction, but now they sacrificed themselves without concern. Even as my blood pumped with fear and adrenaline against this new level of threat, I was heartened. I could only hope that their intensity in preventing my passage was for a reason. Perhaps salvation lay beyond this last band of attackers.
I steel my nerves and cut a swath to my right. Spinning, I feint towards the cleared path. The goblins erupt in chattering and screams, barely concealing their glee at my seeming foolishness. As the path fills with attackers I sweep low with my sword, turn left and leap clear. I recognize surprise registering in the twisted features of my inhuman victims as the light fades from their eyes.
I turn to face my last attacker -- the wizard who had thrown the wave bladed kris, signaling the demon horde to attack. He stood his ground, pulling more knives from the folds of his robe. I hunch low over my shield and rush forward. Blades strike my armor and spin away in a shower of sparks. Adrenaline swells my chest and my heart pumps in my ears. I'm close, I duck under his outstretched arm and bring my blade up between us. The wizard's face never changes. There's no light that's left his eyes, no animation in his face once there that now wasn't. He merely ceased to live, crumpling to the ground as if a doll dropped by a child.
I gather up the meager supplies of the evil band. No food, no healing potions. Only a few arms and a small fortune in gold, as worthless to me now as a bag of stone.
Weary. Battered. I want to rest. I want to stop. But thinking of my Queen and the burden entrusted to me, I summon the strength to put one boot in front of the other. I must continue.
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