Yes, it's late, but I hope to make up for lateness with quantity
Moving, Marking and going to the Con took a lot more out of me than I thought. Net access is a lot more haphazard at the moment as well. I'm currently typing this up on my parents mac, which doesn't handle enworld well, so you'll have to excuse any wierdness in the posting until I get my hands on a real computer
Saturday, August 26th, 508 AF, continued
Pruk's ears are itching, and that's never a good sign. The young goblin stands guard over the four warriors Thimdrul has sent to collect the last human child. All of them are wary of Pruk, glancing at the crossbow he keeps at his side.
Pruk wonders if it was a good idea to bring the weapon on this mission, considering the status both the weapon and his accuracy gives him over his follow goblins. Every time they've engaged an enemy, be he beast or human, Pruk has had difficultly reminding himself that he's meant to be ordinary, just another goblin serving Prince Akratt and his bulgy-headed advisor. He's taken to shooting with his bad hand, but even then he's a better shot than any of his fellow soldiers with their clumsy javelins. Still, sooner or later one of the stupid tall-folk from the town will find his messages and come to destroy the goblin threat, and then the crossbow will be handy. He just has to remember to miss more often, before the Prince notices how good Pruk is with the weapon and names him Pruk his bodyguard over the bezerker Guzzum.
The itching in his ears gets worse, and Pruk suppresses a grin. His ears always itch when he's being watched, and he takes it as a good sign. Sprelt, Thimdrul's assistant, is suddenly at Pruks side, barking out orders to the warriors. They kneel over and pick up one of the children, carrying him towards the sparse area of the cavern where Thimdrul waits with a hammer and a glowing sliver of crystal. Pruk suppresses a shiver. He hopes some heroes show up soon, before Thimdrul and the glowing crystal he found in the dragons cave get too powerful for the pink-skins to defeat. Otherwise things bode ill for the future of Pruk's patron.
The itching gets worse as the child is laid out in front of Thimdrul, bad enough that Pruk needs to concentrate in order to avoid scratching them. His keen eyes place everyone in the room. Thimdrul and Sprelt looming over the child, about to drive the crystal sliver in. Guzzum getting drunk near the corner of the cavern, his massive sword placed carelessly accross the top of the barrel. Akratt is almost dancing from foot to foot, eager to see the result of his advisors experiment. His crown almost bounces off his head, and Pruk can see the faint edges of concern weighing on Akratt - the realisation that Thimdrul may not be seeking power for the princes benefit. Akratt is to weak or foolish to be done with the mind-bending advisor before he gains power, which is why Pruk is here. Pruks master, the princes brother, wants him dead for the good of the tribe. Pruk is inclined to agree. He snorts quietly. Wonders where the observers are hiding.
The attack comes fast enough that even Pruk is surprised. Three weapons come flying through a solid stone wall, a javelin that drops one of the warriors, an arrow that catches the prince in the arm, and a crossbow bolt that bounces off the strange shield Thimdrul maintains by thought alone. The goblins howl in anger, searching for intruders. Pruk is the first to see them, laying against the lip of a tunnel ten feet up the wall of the cavern. It's a sheer climb, hidden somehow until the humans attacked. Pruk gives himself a few seconds before he reacts, makes sure that one of the warriors is the first to shout a warning. When Pruk raises his crossbow, he's careful about placing the shot several feet wide of the tunnel mouth.
Akratt panics, which surprises no-one. Sprelt sprints towards the wall of the cavern, uses his strange magic to climb upwards like a spider. He gets halfway up before he's picked off by the dwarf's crossbow. Thimdrul retreats, heading towards the dragons corpse to retrieve the glowing crystal he's fawned over since the goblins arrived. Pruk contemplates shooting him now and saving the humans the trouble, but it's early yet. There's to many ways this could turn agains the intruders, and then Pruk will need to be around to lure more heroes here to destroy Thimdrul and his magic.
Several more warriors die, and the return volley of javelins is hopelessly inept. Pruk notes the cover the ledge gives the intruders, the sheer skill needed to pick them off from below. He could manage it, but even then it would be a tricky shot. One of the humans shoots at him. Pruk returns fire, this time launching a bolt that is several feet wide of the mark.
Guzzum's roar cuts through the cavern as he lurches to his feet. The big goblin hefts one of the ale barrels before he charges at the intrders. It proves cover enough that a javelin and an arrow don't find thier mark, and the bezerker is almost whithin climbing distance. For a moment, Pruk's almost impressed and wonders if he under-estimated the princes bodyguard. Then he realises that Guzzum carries no javelins, no missile weapons of any kind. The enraged Guzzum launches the barrel towards the ledge, an upward throw of fifteen feet at least. It falls short of that by ten feet at least, a puddle of ale pooling around the bodyguards feet as arrows and crossbow bolts pincussion his body.
More arrows come Pruk's way. He can see the rest of the goblins retreating to the dragons corpse, gathering up more javelins as they take cover behind decaying limbs and wings. Akratt is alive but wounded, Thimdrull carrying his glowing blue crystal by a child. Gazzum and Sprelt are both dead. Pruk realises that he's the closest target to the intruders, that if he makes a move then it needs to be now. An arrow catches him in the shoulder, burries itself deep. Pruk shoots again, this time purposely pointing his crossbow away from the tunnel. It will look better if he gets captured, should the humans fail, but he tries to make it obvious that he's not shooting to kill. It doesn't work. The human in chainmail throws a javelin at him, while another fires a crossbow. Pruk sighs, wonders how humans became so numerous when they're so stupid. Getting captured isn't an option, so he turns and shoots at one of the fleeing goblin warriors. He catches his target in the back, spins him around once before it falls. Pruk catches sight of his face, knows the warrior as Gizzel. Pruk grins with satisfaction. Gizzel was annoying, and his breath stank of sour ale. As his former comrades throw javelins his way, Pruk scramblines towards the wall and nimbly makes the climb to the humans ledge.
A hand is around his throat as he reaches the lip, lifting him high before slamming him into the dirt. Pruk looks up into red-glazed eyes and spikey hair.
"What're you trying to do?" his attacker demands, using the clumsy language of the humands. Pruk sights.
"Stupid Pink-skins," Pruk mutters in the same tongue. "Don't know how to take a bodies help when it's offered to you."
The human blinks, shakes his head as though clearing it of the remnants of a dream.
"Ah, guys, the goblins talking to me," Spikey hair says. "And I think it's saying it wants to be friends."
