Good Use

The air in the early Uktar night was cool, and carried with it the pleasant autumn scents throughout Mythrite. Bakeries were working in full force as the harvest season had just ended, and multitudes of herbs, spices, seasonings, and grains became widely available. Restaurants were operating well into the night, which grew darker earlier every day, warmly glowing and emanating the tantalizing aroma of their food. People still walked the streets, dressed warmly of course, but rather content in the coziness of the nightlife of the Entertainment District.

This was the first night Rahg had been out and about since the Highharvestide Festival. He couldn’t erase the goofy smile from his face, as he held the hand of the lovely woman he met at the festival previously, Merave Truevale. Her hand, barely bigger than Rahg’s palm, managed to find purchase nonetheless. Rahg occasionally had to wonder if he was gripping too hard.

The two made their way toward the Entertainment District. They had to walk by the swamp, which rang with pleasant harmonies of different frogs, crickets, and other creatures singing and calling. Rahg found these noises very relaxing; he had never lived in a swampy area before moving to Mythrite, and likened the sounds to the various songs of birds one would hear in forests.

“What a wonderful night, eh?” Merave said, looking at the glow of the Entertainment District rising above the buildings surrounding them.

“Very. Be even better when we get the food, I’m starving!” Rahg replied.

“Me too. What are you going to get?” Merave asked.

Rahg paused a moment. He hadn’t really thought about it yet. He usually just picks what he wants in the spur of the moment based on what’s available.

“Mmm. Probably a big steak,” he said.

Merave laughed, and Rahg’s heart fluttered as he felt her hand tighten on his a little bit.

“Of course you -” her response was interrupted by a loud horn, one the town had grown all too familiar with lately. The smile disappeared from Rahg’s face, and his hand automatically tightened around Merave’s.

Not tonight! He thought.

“Why tonight?!” Merave echoed.

The horn sounded again. They could hear it was close; Merave let go of Rahg, and pulled her hand from his grip. She ran ahead, until the wooden buildings parted for the path down to the docks in the swamp. Rahg followed.

She turned to Rahg. “I’m sorry, I… I have to go.”

“Go. Careful,” Rahg said, as a pit formed in his gut, realizing Merave was unarmed and unarmored.

“Run back home. It’s safe there. I’ll meet up with you when this is done.” Merave turned again, and ran down to the docks where many of the town guard started gathering. The swamp was covered in a dense fog, illuminated by the moonlight.

Rahg felt rooted where he was, unable to move. He desperately wanted to run. Or to go to Merave and bring her back to safety. The first time in his life, his will ineffective at commanding his body to action. Or, was it a lack of will?

He watched as Merave shouted orders to the guards that continued to filter down to the docks from the town. Some ran by and bumped into Rahg on their way down. Rahg thought he heard one yell at him to “put those muscles to good use, or get the fuck out of the way,” but he wasn’t certain. The clamor grew too loud to tell what he heard anymore.

In the fog, Rahg began to see flickering orange lights. Little by little, they came closer to the town, less obscured by the fog the closer they got. There had to be at least a hundred torches there, but Rahg couldn’t see who held them just yet.

Merave managed to bring the clamoring guards to silence, and continued giving her orders. In the distance, the laughing, growling, and hissing of the goblins hauntingly carried through the fog. Merave shouted over the cacophony, and the town guard split into different squads and formations. Many late arrivals still rushed down to the docks as Merave shouted the final order.

With that, many squads charged into the shallowest parts of the swamp. The archers stayed back, and launched a volley of arrows into the sky. The battle had begun.

The goblin horde had their own ranged tactics. Flaming objects, arrows, and molotov cocktails were launched in response to the arrows falling upon the horde. The charging squads reached the main horde and chaos erupted in the swamp.

The last of the town guards finally made it to the docks. Merave started giving them orders.

A lone goblin broke through the melee, and rushed toward the town, lighting another molotov with its torch. It aimed for the archers, but was struck with an arrow as it threw the fire bomb. It’s aim interrupted, the molotov sailed short of the archers, breaking against Merave’s back, splashing fire onto the dock below her and guards in front of her. She fell, screaming.

Rahg, frozen, held his breath.

The guards were quick to act, and jumped into the muddy swamp water. The fire didn’t catch on to their chainmail, and the leather underneath was burned, but not flaming. One took off his helmet, and began scooping up the dirty water and throwing it on the dock and Merave. The others soon followed suit, and quelled the fire on both the dock and their captain. She still screamed in pain, writhing on the dock.

The guards climbed back up, and quickly picked up their fallen captain, still screaming. They carried her, naked and burned, out of the docks and disappeared into the town on the far side of the docks from Rahg.

Rahg stood still, horrified at the chaos unfolding, and how quickly it did so. More firebombs flew in the air, but always fell short, and fizzled out in the swamp water. Rahg held his face in his hands, and breathed for a moment. That was all he needed.

Put those muscles to good use, or get the fuck out of the way!

Rahg ran away from the scene, but toward the forge, not his home.