Chương 11: Chapter 9: Uhh... Not Quite What I Wanted

.. Not Quite What I Wanted Gideon froze as the six goblins slowly tightened their circle around him, their silhouettes framed by the pale morning light. The forest was quiet, the air cold against his skin, and every instinct in him screamed to bolt back into the shelter. The bows aimed at his chest argued otherwise. The three archers stood a short distance away, arrows nocked, bowstrings drawn just enough to promise that if he twitched wrong, he would bleed.

The two spearmen flanked them, crude stone tips angled forward with the easy confidence of creatures that had used them many times before. Gideon's eyes flicked back to the largest goblin in the group. He stepped forward, jaw set, yellow eyes gleaming.

"I am Throk of the Ironfang tribe. And you," he pointed to Gideon, "are now a slave of the Ironfang." Throk grinned widely before continuing, "Thought we wouldn't notice you sniffing around our territory yesterday, runt?" Gideon kept his hands raised, fingers spread wide. His heart hammered, but he forced his voice to stay steady.

"Alright. Don't shoot. I'm not a threat. I'll toss you my weapon and supplies." The goblins glanced at one another. Then they burst into laughter. The harsh, barking sounds echoed through the trees. Gideon winced but kept going.

"I'm serious," he said.

"Look." He moved two fingers toward his belt, slow enough that even the most paranoid goblin could track it. He unhooked his dagger and tossed it into the dirt in front of Throk. His small bag of belongings and crude furs followed.

"I'm a friend," he added quickly.

"Not a threat. I didn't mean to intrude. I've been lost out here for days, just trying to survive." One of the spearmen snorted a laugh. He was broader than Gideon, thicker through the shoulders, with a scar splitting one ear nearly in half.

"Scrawny," the goblin said.

"Looks weak too. Why should we take him?" Another goblin chuckled.

"Better to kill him. Leave him for the forest to feed on. He isn't worth the rope." The words hit harder than Gideon expected. Before he could stop himself, before caution could catch up with his mouth, he shot back, "I'm useful. I can fight." The laughter stopped. Throk's eyes narrowed.

"You think so?" He grinned.

"Well then. Prove it." He turned slightly and pointed at the goblin who had insulted Gideon.

"You." The spearman grinned as well and stepped forward, rolling his shoulders. The others backed off somewhat and spread out, still blocking Gideon's escape paths. Throk's gaze returned to Gideon.

"You can keep your knife. He keeps his spear." He laughed once.

"Live, if you can, runt." Gideon's stomach dropped. The spearman lowered into a ready stance, spear angled forward, the sharp stone point promising pain. The moment stretched. Gideon slowly moved forward and bent down to pick up his dagger. His hands curled around the hilt. That was the exact moment that the goblin attacked. The spear came at Gideon immediately, a sharp driving thrust aimed straight for his chest.

Gideon lurched sideways into a roll on instinct, the stone tip ripping past him close enough that he felt the brush of air against his ribs. His heart began pounding harder and his vision narrowed. The goblin snarled and followed up immediately, steppung forward and stabbing again and again. Gideon regained his footing and backpedaled, his feet scraping over roots and loose dirt, dagger raised more out of desperation than skill. He slapped the shaft aside once and nearly lost his grip from the impact.

The weapon was too fast, too long. Panic flared hot in his chest until another thought cut through it. Spears want distance. The memory surfaced without warning. Summer heat, blunted spear tips, and an instructor pacing behind a line of teenagers.

"Don't rush the tip. Get inside the reach or you die. Close distance or lose." Gideon forced himself to breathe. The goblin overcommitted on the next thrust just a little. Gideon twisted aside, letting the spear scrape across his forearm. Pain flared sharply, but the wound was shallow. No time for that now. He triggered Quick Feet and lunged. Stamina burned as his body moved. The world seemed to tighten around him as he darted sideways instead of back, forcing the goblin to pivot to keep the spear between them.

Good. Make him turn. The goblin growled something under his breath and swung wide, trying to keep Gideon from closing. Gideon ducked under the arc of the swing, dirt spraying into his mouth as he rolled. He came up coughing, heart still hammering. He was too close to the tip again. The spearman advanced, stabbing in short, efficient jabs meant to herd Gideon backward. The goblin lunged with a last powerful jab, and Gideon darted backward, heel slamming into the dirt to stop his momentum.

The spear plunged down toward his chest. He twisted hard, barely tapping the shaft with the flat of his blade, redirecting the strike just enough to make him miss, letting the tip strike the ground instead of sinking into his body. As his opponent yanked the spear back to recover, Gideon surged forward. He was inside the weapons reach now. The spear suddenly became awkward. The goblin tried to jab with the haft, but it was slow and clumsy. Gideon slapped it aside with his forearm and closed the distance.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. Then the goblin headbutted him. Stars exploded behind Gideon's eyes. He staggered back, barely staying upright. The spear-wielding goblin shoved him back hard with the shaft and raised the spear again, breathing hard, eyes bright with anger. Gideon crouched and scooped up a fistful of loose dirt, and as the spear thrust toward him again he flung it straight into the other goblins face.

He screamed, dropping the spear as both hands flew to his eyes. Gideon didn't hesitate. He sprinted forward on another burning surge of Quick Feet and drove the dagger up beneath the goblin's ribs, angling the blade the way the instructor had once drilled into them. The blade sank in with a horrifying squelching sound. Gideon didn't think, just twisted the blade. His opponent stared at him with wide, shocked eyes. Then his legs buckled, and he collapsed heavily into the dirt.

Blood slowly began pooling beneath the corpse. Silence fell. A soft chime echoed in his head. Then another. Gideon staggered back, chest heaving, dagger trembling in his hand. His thoughts raced. The fight wasn't fair, or clean, but he was still alive. He held onto that thought as the most important thing. Then the reality of what he'd just done rushed in. The dagger fell limply from his hands. He had just killed something. No, noat some thing. Some one.

Not an animal in a hunt for food, but a living, breathing, sentient being. The thought raced through his mind, and he could feel himself begin to spiral. A low chuckle broke the silence, and broke Gideon out of his state. He glanced over at Throk. Throk was smiling at him now, something close to approval in his eyes.

"You did what you had to, runt," Throk said.

"That's enough." Relief flickered briefly before being crushed by the rest of his words.

"Bind him. We take him back to the cavern." Two of the other goblins moved forward, and rough hands grabbed Gideon's arms. Rope bit into his wrists as they tied them together tightly in front of him. Tight enough to hurt, but loose enough to not impede movement. Throk stepped close and leaned in.

"You've proven you can be useful," he said.

"That does not make you free." His eyes hardened.

"You belong to the Ironfang now." He straightened and turned away.

"Move." His eyes flicked to the body on the ground, now laying in a rapidly expanding pool of blood.

"Take his spear and hides. Leave him for the beasts." He snorted once.

"He was weak." Gideon gulped. Goblins lived short brutal lives it seemed, based on how casually they moved past that one's death. Once the goblin was stripped and the weapon reclaimed, the march began. As they began to move, Gideon decided to open the notification gently pulsing in the corner of his vision. [You have slain Goblin Warrior - Level 3. Experience earned.] [Congratulations! You have reached Level 2. 3 Stat Points Available.] [Proceed to Stat Allocation.] Gideon didn't know what to make of this.

The System obviously didn't care about circumstance, just results. He had killed something, so he had earned experience, and now he had leveled up. As sick as he felt, he knew he couldn't ignore the power offered to him by the System. He quietly consulted his Stats as he continued to follow the five goblins that had captured him, and decided to place one point into Intelligence and two into Wisdom. He looked at his new Stats after he was done.

Resource Pools: Health: 30/30 | Stamina: 20/20 (+2/10 mins) | Mana: 50/50 (+4/10 mins) Stats: Strength: 2 | Constitution: 3 | Dexterity: 3 | Intelligence: 5 | Wisdom: 4 They marched through the forest for what seemed like hours, but in reality was no more than 15 minutes. Gideon's mind was racing, the image of the nameless goblin Warrior gurgling and bleeding out seared into his mind. Whenever he slowed or stumbled, a spear haft jabbed his ribs.

When he tripped, a spearhead pressed between his shoulder blades until he scrambled forward again. He kept his head down and, between jolts and bruises, used Identify on his captors as they walked.

[Goblin Warrior - Level 4] Health: 50/50 | Stamina: 30/30 | Mana: 20/20 [Goblin Hunter - Level 2] Health: 30/30 | Stamina: 20/20 | Mana: 10/10 [Goblin Hunter - Level 2] Health: 30/30 | Stamina: 20/20 | Mana: 10/10 [Goblin Hunter - Level 3] Health: 40/40 | Stamina: 30/30 | Mana 10/10 As he used the Skill on the last one, he heard another soft chime, and opened the notification. [Congratulations! Identify has reached Level 2.] Without any prompting, the Skill description popped up, and Gideon was surprised to see it had changed slightly. Identify (Level 2): You inspect other creatures, seeing basic information such as Health, Mana, and Stamina. Only works on creatures three or fewer levels above you. He blinked at that last line. Identify now worked on things three or fewer levels above him, not two. He stored that information away for later as he considered what he had seen via Identify.

They weren't monsters completely out of his reach. Higher level, sure, better armed, yeah, but not absurdly so. If it had been one, maybe two, he could have tried to run. But there were six. Well, five now. He grimaced, then focused on Throk next. His eyebrows raised slightly when the System window that appeared looked different from the others. Name: Throk Race: Goblin Level:??? Class:??? Health:??? | Mana:??? | Stamina:??? A new line. Class. So far, he had seen nothing like that before.

The obscured resource pools told him enough. He remembered the ending of the Skill description of Identify. Whatever Throk was, he likely stood on another tier entirely from the others in his group. They continued moving, pushing deeper into the forest. Gideon had a lot of questions. He doubted they would answer, but he tried anyway.

"Where are we going?" he asked after a while. No answer.

"Why capture me? I was surviving alone. I didn't threaten you." Soft laughter.

"What do you want with me?" Throk spoke from the front of the group without turning his head, "Shut up. You speak too much." They moved in silence for a while, before the curiosity piqued again. Gideon couldn't resist.

"Do you live in a cave? Or in a village? How many of you are there?" The questions poured out of him, one after the other. Throk stopped, turned, and without warning smashed the hilt of his sword into Gideon's temple. White exploded across Gideon's vision. The trees vanished. Darkness swallowed him whole. When awareness floated back, Gideon realized he was swaying. Rope dug into his skin at his wrists and ankles.

His body hung from a spear carried across two goblins' shoulders like he was nothing more than a gutted animal. Every step sent a jolt of pain through his skull. He groaned and tried to move his head. One of the carriers noticed, barked a laugh, and jerked the pole sharply. Gideon's head cracked against the wood. The dark came for him again.