The path continued to weave through the dense forest, the only sunlight now reaching them was what managed to bleed through from the treetops high above. The ground was damp and soft underfoot for the men and horses, making it easier to move silently through the forest. The rum from Buron had helped to settle Nathaniel's nerves but it was unsettling at the same time that he had brought it with him. Nathaniel had served with the Buron for several years now and not once had he ever been drinking on patrol. It was totally out of character and showed the severity of the situation. The people of Ollorath would be going about their daily business, blissfully unaware of the dangers lurking about the lands. The city guard ensured that life in the city was peaceful and protected, and it was their duty to ensure the people within the walls never made contact with the enemies who skulked about, hidden in the forests and mountains surrounding the city.
The company trudged on down the small winding track, between the tall, straight pines of the forest. Soon Nathaniel could hear the sound of running water, although just a slow trickle. It would be one of the many brooks that carried water down from the mountains to the great Orin River. The river carried trade ships from the coast, inland to the city of Ollorath and cut its path deep inland to the Orinbald Mountains far in the east. It was the longest and widest river in the north of the continent and many of the smaller towns of the republic had founded themselves on the banks of the Orin. Nathaniel had once travelled on one of the guard ships up river to some of the smaller towns, but they rarely ventured far as the towns had their own guards to protect the people and their prosperity.
The path they followed ran parallel with the brook for a time before crossing over at a shallow, gravelly point and winding back through the trees to make its way slowly up the hillside. As the path wound on soon the pine began to be interspersed with a few deciduous trees, mainly oaks and elm. Another track diverged from the one they were on taking a more northerly route. Buron stopped the company and looked hard through the trees at something in the distance. He dismounted and Nathaniel followed suit leading his horse by the reins in the direction Buron was going. As they drew near it was apparent what Buron had seen. Fragments of bones lay on the ground and a smell still lingered in the air. A goblin camp had been there not long ago. Judging by the smell it had probably moved away a day or so ago by Nathaniel's reckoning. One thing he knew he could always trust was his nose. He had almost a gift at sniffing out goblins and also danger. Something foul was in the air, not like the smell of goblins though and it was probably this that caused them to move away from where their camp had been set up. Searching the surrounding area it seemed the Goblins had moved down hill, deeper into the valley. Surely they would now track them and follow them down; after all, the mission was to drive them back into the hills away from the valley road and the city.
The march continued up the hillside away from the goblin tracks and Nathaniel began to doubt the nature of their mission was truly to evict the goblins back into the hills. Perhaps this was why captain Buron had brought a canteen of rum with him. What he had not noticed was the small plume of smoke in the distance floating up into the sky, since he was too transfixed watching the goblin track, longing to follow it down the valley. Whatever else lurked in these hills was clearly far worse than goblins and Nathaniel wished for nothing else at that moment than to be locked in combat with the slimy creatures, rather than to be where he was now, hunting an unknown foe. He would have even preferred to fight a goblin mounted upon a venbeast than to suffer the anticipation of whatever impending doom awaited him on his patrol, but these matters were out of his hands. All he could do was follow the lead of his captain and defend himself to the best of his abilities, but he had the niggling doubt that whatever they were facing would be able to overpower them all.
Time pressed on further and the sun reached the point in the sky where Nathaniel knew they would be spending a night in the forest. The prospect made him shudder and suddenly he felt cold. Once again Buron dismounted and then he approached Nathaniel. "Up ahead, do you see them?" he asked Nathaniel, who peered deep into the trees to find what he was talking about. Then he could see the tiniest flickering of a fire. When he looked up to the sky the smoke was faint but obvious against the blue, cloudless sky.
"Goblins" he exclaimed quietly in reply. Perhaps even the same group whose camp remains they had found earlier. It was unlikely that two goblin camps would be so close and more likely that they would have just formed one larger camp with a fouler stink to it. From this distance the smell was not apparent and was most likely being contained by the dense trees, which Nathaniel was very glad about. The stench of goblins was possibly the worst smell he had encountered, worse even than the gong cart, which ran by the stables at night.
The rangers were masters of stealth and could quite easily approach a rabble of camped goblins unnoticed. It would be an easy ambush for them and perhaps a fight would help Nathaniel to relieve some of the stress that had gradually been building up inside him over the course of the day. The rangers pulled the hoods of their cloaks over their heads and strung an arrow to their bows in readiness. Nathaniel drew his sword silently and he and Buron led them all toward where the goblins were camped, making sure to avoid treading on anything that would give them away. Luckily goblins were usually quite loud, dull witted creatures and would make enough noise to cover any sound the company made. Slowly and quietly they encircled the camp, ensuring they could see and kill all the goblins to avoid making too much noise in the ambush. They all waited on Buron's command poised with the strings pulled back to their cheeks, each man with a different goblin in his aim.
Waiting for the attack always seemed like an age to Nathaniel where the actual fight was over in a flash. As soon as Buron brought his hand down the arrows were loosed and goblin after goblin hit the floor. Some tried to run and one came Nathaniel's way. He leapt out from his bush and swung his sword down across the goblin's neck, splitting down into its chest cavity and bringing it to the floor with a thud. He looked up as a second goblin, wielding a jagged blade, launched itself at him. He stepped to the side and parried a wild slash then lunged his sword into the goblin's belly killing it instantly. As he looked around him the camp floor was strewn with dead goblins. None had survived their attack and as always it had been over in a flash with no one sustaining any wounds. Most of the goblins had been shot down by arrow fire, Nathaniel noticed as the rangers collected their arrows back from the goblin corpses. "Pile them up and burn them," commanded Buron quietly but with authority. "I want to leave a statement to any of their friends coming this way," he finished.
Nathaniel observed the camp curiously while the rangers stacked the bodies. Something wasn't right about it; goblins would never usually travel in such few numbers. Buron had clocked onto it as well and approached Nathaniel about it, "I agree my lord," was his reply, "there are too few of them, far less than normal."
"A scouting party do you think?" Buron asked quietly.
"Would goblins ever be that strategic, have you ever known them to be?"
"No," replied Buron, "But times are strange lately," an opinion that they both shared. Although the notion of a goblin scouting party was ridiculous, it made sense. The camp was small and easy to put up and take back down and totally out of fashion for goblins to construct. Something strange was definitely happening in the forest and Nathaniel was feeling uncomfortable at the thought of it. The sun was dipping further in the sky and night would soon be upon them, leaving them stranded in the darkness.
With a pile of burning goblins blazing in the centre of the camp, the smell of their burning flesh was too much to stand and watch. It was the sort of smell that was dense and if inhaled could turn even the strongest of stomachs. Nathaniel was glad to be riding away but they soon re-joined the track and were heading back up the hill. As the sun dipped ever lower in the sky the forest became dark and ominous. The twilight of evening was setting in and the shadows cast by the trees were growing long. It was a relief on his eyes as the party stepped out into a large clearing, caused by a rocky outcrop. It was solid granite, which looked blue in the grey evening light, covered by a layer of grass and sod leaving only exposed rock where the wind had battered it. This was a sign that they were now in the lower foothills of the Harbald Mountains, which cut down the eastern border of the republic. It would be a further two days' travel to reach the other side, via the mountain pass. This seemed to the captain to be a good place to make camp and he ordered a fire to be built. Nathaniel jumped off his horse and found a good spot to bed down for the night, looking for a place that was grassy and not stone but that was still sheltered from the wind.
They had not been there long when the darkness swallowed them but for the light of the small fire and the three moons, one red, one brown and one silver. Now that the sun was gone the only warmth came from the small fire burning, which was slowly roasting two rabbits for their supper. The only sounds came from the crackle of the fire and the wind dancing through the trees. There was no sound of nocturnal wildlife. No crickets chirping or owls screeching, just the roar of leaves. It was uneasy to sit there and wait for whatever lurked in the darkness. Perhaps it had been the distinct lack of any birdsong that had caused the strangeness Nathaniel and Buron had been feeling over the course of the day in the forest. He had never been in the forest before, day or night, when some sort of bird had not been in song or calling out. The sudden realisation sent another shiver down his body and he moved closer to the fire. It would probably be another long and sleepless night.
After the rabbit was eaten the rangers on sentry were changed and the fire began to die down some more. Nathaniel decided to withdraw to his chosen bed spot and attempt to sleep. He lay on the uneven ground on his back looking up to the stars. They were enchanting to him; so far away they avoided the dread and darkness of the world, distant and aloof. Before long Nathaniel was lying, still awake and now uncomfortable. No amount of tossing and turning could cure the discomfort and though he was tired, he could not sleep when his anxiety had gripped him so hard. All he could hope to do was let the rest allow him to gather his strength for the following day. As the moons crossed the sky one by one on their individual arcs, Nathaniel had watched the fire completely die out and all of his comrades seemed to have made it to sleep. He now felt quite alone on the hillside gazing into the dark sky, pin pricked with starlight.
The night blurred into one and on a couple of occasions he felt himself falling asleep only to be jolted back awake by his brain working overtime. Before long the sunlight began to appear from beneath the horizon as dawn drew nearer. The sentry changed once more before dawn leaving a few hours of sleep remaining. As the sun finally made its appearance on the horizon, Nathaniel was relieved that he had survived the night in the now ominous forest. His heart rate slowed to a slightly calmer pace as the daylight grew. Soon the whole camp was awake and began to remove traces of their presence before moving out again, done in a weary silence as they all slowly woke up from their slumberous state. All but for Nathaniel, once again he had a sleepless night. His body was exhausted and his eyes felt glazed but not once had they closed long enough to even be considered snoozing. Climbing into his saddle was an effort but it was far easier to be carried along by his horse than to be on foot with the rangers.
The company left the clearing re-joining the route of the track further up the hillside. The path continued fairly straight as it headed upwards. The forest grew thick again and every now and then bare rock could be seen poking through the undergrowth. Usually Nathaniel saw the forest as a natural beauty but there was something dark about it as he looked upon it. Almost as if some sort of shadow was covering it, hiding the usual beauty that it held. The day was now overcast and better matched his mood. The sun shone behind the grey of the clouds but did nothing to brighten the day. There was a thickness to them and it had all the signs of rain.
Soon enough the forest began to smell of the damp, dank scent that always precedes rainfall and then gradually drops began to fall, scattering as they hit the tree leaves. At first the forest provided them with shelter from the downpour but as the rain picked up in strength, even the trees could not protect them from the savage rain. As the company pushed on the rain soaked through Nathaniel's clothes, running off his armour into the gaps and soon he could feel the wet against his skin. To make matters worse he was also cold and now his shivering was from being cold and wet, rather than the fear which had been troubling him over the last few days.