1 An Unexpected Guest

Somewhere out in a dark wood, at the bottom of a large snow-capped mountain range, there was a large cabin. Now, cabins were a common sight in the Shaded Growth, and plenty of people had taken residence in these parts. However, this particular cabin was one to put them to shame.

The cabin had two floors visible to the outside, and a cellar that could only be accessed from inside. The walls were built with oak wood, smoothed out and fitted with iron nails; the outline and outer supports were made of dark spruce trunks that contrasted well with the oak's lighter color and helped highlight the walls of the build. Standing out from the roof, a stone chimney of sorts was built to serve as a means to funnel the smoke, and served as another contrast to the cabin's exterior. A large, oak door with iron hinges served as an entrance, and its knob was a string on the outside that connected to a slab of wood inside. One had to pull the string to lift the slab inside before the door could be opened, and if the string was pulled inside, then the only way in was to break the door down.

Inside, the cabin was nearly as impressive outside. Fur rugs covered the wooden floors and served as a second floor or carpet. The floor around the fireplace just under the chimney was made of earth and stone in a semicircle wide enough to prevent sparks from catching the rugs or wooden floors on fire. The bottom floor consisted of a single room, divided into three sections, each serving as a dining room, a lounge and a kitchen, respectively; although, the latter was used more for preparing the meals for consumption than cooking. (Any cooking was done outside in a fire pit some feet away from the house, or preserved in a dark spruce smokehouse that was locked up tightly to keep wildlife out).

A flight of stairs in the lounge led up to the second floor, where four different rooms could be found: three bedrooms, and a personal library. The library was not a particularly large one, consisting currently of two or three shelves full of books and scrolls, and was more of a personal collection. However, it had quite a lovely collection at that, with all the shelves filled to the top with pieces of literature. Some titles were on science, others on nature, and some were old story books or guidebooks to just about anything in life.

The bedrooms each consisted of a wooden bedframe with straw as a cushioning, and furs on top of that. A few more furs served as blankets and a pillow, providing a comfortable and warm place to sleep. Each bedroom also had a kind of wardrobe and bed stand; however, one of the bedrooms was a bit larger than the others, and a second bedroom smaller. For they were each, respectively, the main bedroom for the residents of the house, the bedroom for their children, and the guest bedroom.

In this cabin, there lived a woman in her mid-thirties, with dark black hair, brilliant violet eyes, and fair skin that had been toughened by the life she lived through the years. She wore a simple garb that consisted of a hunter's cloak strapped over a cloth shirt and leather pants, both built to allow flexibility in movement, and also provide warmth in cool weather; something that the Shaded Growths experienced on a regular basis, due to its close proximity to the mountains.

The woman's name was Sarah, and she had been living in the cabin for two years now, alone with her still-infant son. This was not by choice; her husband had died barely a few days after their son's birth, killed by a sickness they could not cure themselves. When her husband died, it had made life much harder for her and her son. For whenever she went hunting or gathering food, she was forced to leave her son alone in the cabin; something she obviously wasn't comfortable with. The danger was too high for her to take lightly.

Many times, she had considered taking her son and leaving the Shaded Growths, but then thought against it. The child was too young for her to risk the journey, and the woods crawled with too many dangers. No, she would have to try and raise him up until he was older, before risking the journey with him.

It was an ironic blessing for Sarah when winter came to the Shaded Growths. Thanks to her hard work and preparations for the season, she rarely had to leave the cabin, and on the occasions when she did, it was never far. This greatly helped in easing her fears, for it meant that she could watch over her son more actively, and there was seldom a time when she wasn't playing with or caring for her child.

However, life often has a way of having the unexpected cross your path. And for Sarah, this happened to occur on a bitter cold night in December. She had been busy putting another log on the fire to help warm the house up in preparation for an upcoming blizzard. She had seen all the signs prior, and wasn't taking any chances. The log had barely settled on the hot coals in the fireplace, when she heard a knock at the door. This puzzled Sarah, as she wondered who could be out and about with the upcoming weather. However, she was not an unkind character, and wouldn't deny this stranger - whoever it was - shelter from the elements.

That being said, she was not at all prepared for the pale, thin, disfigured figure that greeted her vision upon opening the door. The pair of long, almost pointed ears; the wart-covered nose; the deathly colored skin that seemed to have never seen sunlight before; the sharp claws where nails should be on one's hands; the fading black hair; the large, yellow eyes that seemed to despise the very light of her fire; the crude, seemingly heavy sword; and the cruel, spiked armor worn over what could described as little more than rags. Sarah almost slammed the door shut right then and there, for this was no man that graced her with its presence. This was a Goblin.

Goblins! The very name of these sapient creatures chilled the hearts and souls of many, both within the Shaded Growths and beyond. They were the monsters spoken about in campfire stories, who sneaked into your bedroom and stole away your children as you slept. They were the cunning tricksters, who's deception and mastery of stealth had led many an unaware traveler to his demise. They were the parasites of the mountains, who's sheer numbers, vast tunnel systems, and fast reproductive rates made them as impossible to exterminate as cockroaches. And, unofficially, they were the ever-ambitious inventors and ever-expanding miners of the mountains, always extending their domains to new locations, and always learning more each day from their observations of the human race.

Sarah was no stranger to the stories about the Goblins; she had even told a few stories herself to little children about the creatures, long before she had moved to the Shaded Growths. She had also come across a few of the distasteful monsters on occasion, and nearly every time it ended with one of her arrows flying into its head. Meeting one here in the forest, while unwelcomed, was not uncommonly heard of; Goblins often traveled down from the mountains into the Shaded Growths for hunting parties, or for late-night gatherings around large bonfires.

Of course, neither of the two scenarios were seen too often; usually, the Goblins melted away into the darkness of the night or the shadows of the day, before anyone could properly identify them. But evidence of their presence was always found afterwards, whether it be the multiple hollows made by many stomping feet, or the remains of a good hunt that they were unable to clear away. Many times, the Goblins would often terrorize the people who lived in the Shaded Growths, causing all sorts of mischief and havoc. While this usually didn't go beyond a broken fence, stolen food, or disappearing livestock, sometimes the outcome was far more grizzly. There was no reason why Sarah shouldn't kill this one too.

And yet, taking a closer look at the sorry creature before her, Sarah noticed something was off about it. It didn't try to attack her or run away upon sight, as most Goblins did. Instead, this Goblin fell on its hands and knees before her, as if cowering at her presence and begging for mercy at the same time. And taking a look at the creature with care once her initial shock had worn off, Sarah could see that it was miserable - or more so than a Goblin typically looked. It didn't take long for her to realize that the Goblin was wordlessly asking for shelter from the blizzard outside, throwing itself at her mercy with the risk of being shut out of her house, and forced to brave the cold. Though this did little to cure her fears, it was a pitiful sight for Sarah to witness. The Goblin never looked up at her, but kept its head down to the ground and stayed tense. Waiting for an answer.

Perhaps it was because it was alone. Perhaps its desperation and silent pleading caused some form of compassion to swell up in her heart. Or perhaps it was a sense of hidden curiosity, which kept her from slamming the door. Whatever the case was, out of all the Goblins that had ever approached Sarah's house prior to this moment, only one was spared.

Sarah found herself opening the door a little wider, which made the Goblin look up with disbelief.

"Come on," she said with impatience, already feeling the start of the blizzard seeping inside and chilling her bones. "Come in, and get out of the cold."

Silently, the Goblin crept inside, and Sarah closed the door behind it, never once taking her eyes off the creature. It didn't seem to acknowledge her at first, and simply looked about the interior as if in wonder: running a clawed hand along the wooden walls, sniffing at the carpets, and tilting its head in curiosity at her kitchen. It occurred to Sarah that maybe Goblins didn't get the luxury of living in such comfort as her own; she was probably comparable to a queen in the eyes of the primitive creature.

Eventually, it turned back towards her, and for a moment their eyes locked gazes, poisonous yellow to her violet blue. Then with slow, deliberate movements, the Goblin unsheathed its sword and set it down on the floor, kicking it towards the wall where it wouldn't be stepped on; a non-threatening gesture that it knew she'd understand. She could see that it was just as wary of her as she was of it, waiting to see what her next move would be. A silence fell upon the cabin, interrupted by only the crackling of the fire in her chimney. Sarah broke the silence momentarily by asking a question.

"Can you speak? Or at least understand human speech?" She asked her question slowly, using the Common Speech spoken by her people, even though she mentally chided herself afterwards. Why bother speaking slowly? It wouldn't help in the slightest if it couldn't understand her. The Goblin made a grunt and blinked, and then right when Sarah was beginning to think that it couldn't understand her, a rough and deep, yet also squeaky voice emitted from its form.

"Little speak. Understand much."

Sarah was somewhat surprised that the creature could speak at all. But then again, no one had never bothered to attempt conversation with a Goblin before, for obvious reasons. At least it eliminated the problem of communication, and judging from the voice, it was male.

"Are you hungry?" Sarah inquired, dropping her slow tone, but still wary nonetheless. The Goblin nodded in answer, his eyes gleaming affirmatively to her question. "Then please, have a seat, and I'll bring something to you.

The Goblin sat on the floor, and while it wasn't what Sarah had meant, she was satisfied with the result. Though it also made her realize that he didn't seem to know what a chair was used for. She had to walk past him to get to the kitchen, which she didn't like the thought of at all, but the Goblin didn't make any movements that would be a cause of concern. Sarah didn't say anything about the matter, and simply walked into the kitchen to where she had been preparing her own dinner: smoked deer, with some boiled vegetables from her personal garden on the side, and some homemade gravy for flavoring.

She took a generous helping of each and served it on a wooden plate, and then brought it back to her guest. The Goblin had not moved from his spot since she had left, save only to turn towards her when she approached.

"Here," she said simply, and held out the plate to him. He looked at the plate with curiosity - he didn't seem to know what it was either - but accepted it nonetheless, setting it down gently in front of him. Then, quite suddenly, he started to gobble down what was on the plate before him ravenously, not bothering for manners if he even knew what those were. By how he ate, one could come to the conclusion that the Goblin had not eaten in days, or that whatever he may have eaten prior had not satisfied his hunger before now.

Sarah was not at all shocked by the Goblin's beastly manner of consumption; rather, she would have been surprised if it had eaten more politely. Goblins were known to be truly primitive in how they ate their meals, and evidence of this could be seen at anytime in which their gatherings had occurred. That being said, she decided that it was probably best to wait for a while before attempting to eat something herself; she had lost her appetite the moment she had invited him inside.

It didn't take long before the Goblin had finished his meal, not including the bones, and stared back at her as if wondering what she would say or do next. Sarah didn't say anything about it, but simply picked up the plate and walked it into the kitchen, setting it to the side for the time being. Then she returned to her guest and watched as he scooted closer to her fireplace. He seemed to like the heat, and for a moment she could have sworn he was smiling, revealing a row of teeth in his mouth - or what was left. Many teeth were broken or missing, and some gaps had been replaced with shards of glass or nails, but what remained were still rather sharp.

"Your home nice," he said slowly. "Very pretty. But too big… live alone." His eyes turned to her with curiosity. "Have mate? Help build?"

Sarah didn't feel too comfortable with his questions, but decided to humor him for the time being. It would certainly pass the time, and having him stay silent was slightly unnerving.

"My husband and I built this a couple years back," she replied, trying not to give away too much information.

"And… where mate gone?" he inquired further.

Sarah went silent at this, and at first couldn't find an appropriate answer. But after a while, she said with a firm and convincingly intimidating tone, "He's upstairs. And he's quick with a blade and a bow, so if you attempt any harm to me or our house, then you will be dead before you can even squeal for help."

Unfortunately, if she had hoped this would intimidate the Goblin, she was wrong. Instead, the Goblin gave her a look that was… sad? Perhaps even sympathetic.

"Your mate gone... entire passing of seasons," he said. "Goblins pass your den last winter. Food... two then; we smelled it. Now, only smell food... one." His yellow eyes gleamed in the firelight, almost as if highlighting just how intelligent he really was. "You sad, human. Sad, because mate leave you. Leave... this life. And now, life difficult. But not because you alone. You have great fear. Fear... losing something special - someone special. More precious… shiny trinkets. And that... great burden to bear alone."

The silence that followed was so unsettling, Sarah almost wished that the Goblin had kept talking as she stared at him with a mixture of fear and horror at his accuracy. If he knew this much, then he already knew about her child. Would he be the next victim? No, she would kill this one first if that was the case!

Slowly, ever so slowly, she found herself backing up towards where he had left his sword earlier, intent upon using it to smite him down. But before she was even close enough for that, he spoke again.

"If... wanted you dead, you... be dead many seasons, and before… enter your den. We no interested… senseless death."

Sarah paused once more, only halfway to his weapon. He sounded sincere, but could she really trust this creature? No, he must be lying. Goblins were not nice creatures.

"How do I know you aren't lying?" she demanded. "Your kind is known to be clever tricksters and murderers! You steal children in their sleep, and you kill travelers just for a meal! Who's to say you won't kill me too when you get the chance?"

The Goblin hissed angrily, but it only took a moment for Sarah to realize that it wasn't directed at her.

"They lie!" He stated. "We only kill… threatened, never without cause! No steal children, and... no murderers! It your kind attack… no reason, because we Goblins... you humans. You see humans good… others bad. Goblins see humans bad... Selfish... liars. Care only for their kind… hate others."

Sarah opened her mouth to protest, but caught herself as his words hit her fully. Now that she thought about it, he wasn't entirely wrong; all across the world, the majority of humans could all agree that most all other creatures were a threat to them. And most of the Kingdoms, as a result, had started campaigns against the most "foul" and "evil" of these creatures: Goblins, Trolls, Kobolds, and even Hobgoblins. All had been given bad reputations, but she never knew them to lead an attack on the human race; the human race always led the attack on them.

And yet… She knew people who had lost their children to the Goblins before, or had livestock stolen by Trolls, or Kobolds who had slit the throats of people in their sleep for shiny trinkets. Hobgoblins… were generally just lazy or the leaders of the smaller creatures, due to their intelligence, but the fact that they'd ever be in charge of such monsters was enough of a label to have them be targeted.

Sarah glanced back up to speak to him, but before she could utter a single word, her ears were met with snoring. And seeing him rolled up on the floor, it was reasonable to assume that he was asleep. Though, just in case, she gave him a nudge with her foot. The answer was of someone disturbed in his sleep, but she still wasn't satisfied. So while he slept, she quietly went upstairs to check on her child first, who was also sleeping soundly, then brought out her bow and quiver, and descended the stairs to where she had a good view of the Goblin.

She aimed the bow in his direction, arrow leaning against the shaft for her to fire when ready. In a pinch, Sarah had the reflexes of a cat, and she was determined to watch her guest all night long, just to assure herself that he wouldn't try anything funny.

Determined not to sleep...