The Army of the Unkown

A few months had passed since the Goblins had appeared on Sarah's doorstep, and the snows of winter. Sarah saw no further signs of the creatures, nor did she know where they disappeared to. An obvious answer would be back into the mountains, but in the past they had occasionally gone down into the woods to hunt for food. So she was unable to understand what was going on, and simply forced to carry out her days as usual.

On the plus side, her son had grown much since then. He was quite healthy too, and she figured that soon, he'd be able to walk. Growing up so fast, day by day. He would eventually have to be weaned from her milk, and he would have to be named too - as was the custom of her people, the children were named as soon as they were able to be weaned. The start of their childhood, and their journey towards becoming adults.

Yet, Sarah felt that it was not fast enough. He still would need lots of growing up to do before they would be ready to make the journey to the safety of the kingdom, and that would perhaps take yet more time. And while the Goblins had been told to leave her alone, she still didn't feel safe all the same. Something felt off these days, as if it were all simply a calm before the storm. A moment of peace that only served to signal the start of an inevitable war.

And that war was to come sooner than expected.

Sarah got the news through a rider from the kingdom: a strange, unknown nation had started to perform raids and open assaults against the kingdom. Thankfully, it sounded like the battle was far, far away from the Shaded Growths, but as extra security all citizens of the king were instructed to remain calm, and to evacuate to safer territory if similar reports occurred in their area. Then the rider rushed off before Sarah could get a word in with him.

War was not too uncommon for her people, but this was against what was possibly another human kingdom; before, it had been between monsters like the Goblins. To have a human kingdom fight another - such a thing hadn't happened for years. It was almost unthinkable for such a thing to occur, but now it had. And what's worst, she wasn't able to move out in a hurry if such a thing occurred near her. She still had to worry about her son, and he wouldn't be ready for a long journey for a while longer.

Sarah almost considered asking the help of the Goblins, but she soon realized that this would be quite difficult. They could barely understand her own language, so writing a message wouldn't help, and she had noticed recently a nearly complete absence of the subterranean creatures in the forest. Something had to have happened to prevent them from coming by, because she no longer could find any traces of them nearby. It was as if they had decided to avoid the Shaded Growths altogether, but for what reason she didn't know for sure.

Perhaps, she would never know; the Goblins were still quite a mystery to her, as were their ways. But she nevertheless couldn't help but feel that something was... off. Like something bad was about to happen — when, or how, she didn't know. Only that she wasn't prepared for it...

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She should have seen it coming. She should have prepared more, returned sooner, known how stupid it was to leave. All she had done was go out for a short while to check on some snares, to see if there were any hares caught in them to stew up for dinner.

And now, Sarah had a door wide open, a few broken windows, and a crying child upstairs. Motherly instinct took over, and with little regards to her own safety, she dashed the remaining distance to the house and entered the main room.

The first thing she noticed was how trashed the place was, her uninvited guests having no sense of respect or consideration for her home. Dirty rags hung on the mantle over the fireplace, bits of food and dirt scattered across the floor, and several carelessly cast aside utensils and dishes.

Then there were her intruders themselves: three or four of them, all with wild black hair and beards that looked as if it hadn't been washed in months. Wide, fierce brown eyes, that regarded her with cruel malice, hardly surprised to see her at all. Clad in garments that seemed to be a mixture of boiled leather and animal hides, providing decent protection while also allowing for quick movements. Their skin red as if sunburned, but also quite muscular and well-built. On their belts could be seen a mixture of weapons: a wooden club, an axe, a long knife, and a kind of crude curved sword. All four currently eyeing her as they chewed on some venison, no doubt stolen from her smokehouse.

There was no way she could fight them all (and survive), especially when her bow was still over her back, so Sarah quickly made the next best decision and dashed up the stairs to her child's bedroom. Surprisingly, the upstairs was untouched, save for some dirty tracks into each room, and when she got to her son's room, the child was still in bed and perfectly fine. Evidently, the men downstairs weren't interested in him by a long shot.

"Oh, my precious darling! You're okay!" she exclaimed in relief, and lifting him out of the crib, she hugged him tightly. Whispering comfort to him to soothe his cries. "It's okay, baby. Mommy's here now. Mommy's got you..."

Slowly, the child stopped crying, and gurgled in comfort. Small arms wrapping around her too, desiring the closeness and safety she provided him. Which Sarah only too obligingly provided, relieved that her son was still alive and well.

But her relief wouldn't last long, as the reality of the situation caught up to her, and her fear returned. They couldn't stay here; they had to leave! Towards the kingdom, that was their best chance. It would be a long journey, but if they could survive it, at least she knew they'd be safe there.

Gently, she slung her baby up into her arms, and with him currently staying quiet, she made her way back down the stairs, praying that the four men wouldn't notice her leave... Unfortunately, they did notice, and they had moved from their original positions. One blocking the door, and the other three standing around the room. All glaring at her, as Sarah froze in place upon coming into view. Now what?

"Where do you think you're going?" the one at the door demanded. His voice was gruff, and rather unfriendly, yet with a touch of richness to it.

"Please... just let us go," Sarah managed to keep her voice calm, despite the fear she felt; not for herself, but for the defenseless child in her arms. "We have nothing else to give you..."

"Well that's not entirely true," a second among them remarked with a smirk, his voice very rough and deep. And the look he gave Sarah unsettled her, as well as disgusted her.

"Wallace, leave her be," a third warned him disapprovingly, his voice full of authority and power, which caused the man "Wallace" to lower his head in shame. Then the third looked to Sarah. "She's not our enemy, or one of your wenches."

Sarah kept her gaze upon them, steady and firm as she said again, "Let us go... We won't tell anyone." A poor lie, and anyone smart would know it.

"Hah! Now, we can't do that, lady," the one at the door scoffed. "If we do that, you will warn the King."

"You would have the blood of a child, and his mother, on your hands then?" Sarah demanded, feeling herself tense up in preparation for the worst.

"No."

The reply was so sudden, Sarah almost didn't believe it herself, as all looked to the ringleader of the four men. Given that the fourth hadn't even attempted to speak this whole time, she presumed that perhaps he *couldn't* speak, or preferred not to.

"We will not kill you... but we will not permit you to tell the King," he explained simply. "If you are to leave... you will go to the mountains."

"..."

Though startled by his words, Sarah kept silent. Arguing about it wouldn't get her anywhere; they had all the cards in hand, and she was literally at their mercy. They'd easily be able to overpower her if she tried to fight, and she had her child to worry about too. Besides, there were alternatives — she knew the Shaded Growths well. Perhaps she could backtrack and find a way to outmaneuver them, and get to the kingdom that way.

"...very well," she said at length, and the leader made a motion of his head to the one at the door, who nodded and then stepped out of the house. Leaving the doorway unblocked, but also provided him a means to see which direction she'd go. Sarah said nothing more as she held her child tightly to herself, and slowly made her way past them all and out the door.

Outside, she immediately noticed the one man blocking the road to the kingdom, as expected, leaving only the path to the mountains open to her. The man watched her closely as she took in their scenario.

No food, limited ammo from what she possessed currently for her bow, and no warm clothes. Survival would be challenging, but not impossible. And who knows? Maybe she'd run into the Goblins whom had declared her under their protection — ironic that they couldn't protect her now, and for all she knew, they wouldn't be keen on helping her anyways. But if it allowed any chance whatsoever of survival for herself and her son, she would take it.

*Gods, help give me strength...*

Taking a deep breath, Sarah slowly took a step forward. Then another, and another. Slowly making her way towards the mountains, while the four men watched her leave.

"She'll never survive. If the Goblins don't kill her, the weather will," the one who had guarded the door said aloud to the boss.

"Good. Let her become their next meal. That'll slow them down more, and give everyone more reason to hate the beasts," Wallace sneered.

"That's not why I sent her there," the leader said to them both, causing all eyes to turn to him. "Her child is one of the Cursed." Exclamations of surprise broke out as he continued. "When I looked into its eyes, all I saw was fire and death for our people — for all peoples. His death at our hands would only bring the wrath of the Abyss upon us. That is why I sent them there: so their deaths would not be by our hands."

His expression was one of firm resolve, as Sarah slowly began to move further out of sight, his eyes displaying only a hint of worry in them.

"For all our sakes, I pray they do not survive..."

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How long had they been walking? Minutes? Hours? Sarah didn't know, nor did she care as she trudged on ahead, slowly because of her son's weight in her arms. All she knew was that she had to get a good distance from those men, and then perhaps she could double back around before it got dark. It was a slim hope, but it was all she had.

Thankfully, her son had stayed relatively quiet during this entire endeavor, which made the walk easier for her, as well as told her that he was feeling safe and secure — he was always quiet whenever he cuddled up to her, and he always offered a comforting presence for her. Something she needed now, especially after what had happened prior. Her baby was safe, and that meant more to her than anything else.

She stayed at a slow pace to make the walk comfortable for him, since there didn't seem to be any need to hurry. The men wouldn't pursue them, and so far there was nothing to be concerned about- yes there was! And she saw exactly what it was; first in the form of snowflakes, then in the form of a gradual increase in the wind, and finally in the form of storm clouds up ahead.

There was no means of outrunning it, only to seek shelter from the storm. Though the trees would only provide shelter from the snow, not the cold. And with the clothing they were wearing, it wouldn't be long before they'd both freeze to death.

"I gotta find shelter... I gotta find shelter..." she muttered aloud, looking this way and that for anyplace to hunker down. Her son's crying only serving to remind her that time was running short for them both.

There! Next to the roots of a tree, she saw a hollow in the ground. Much too small for herself, but maybe... With little hesitance, she took her son, and she stuck him in the hollow. It fit him snugly, but it was still cold.

There was no regret, no hesitation in what Sarah did next: working fast, she discarded what outer wear she had on, and wrapped him up in it. Going on until she was in only her undergarments. The cold immediately nipped at her, and she shivered violently, but she worked undeterred until she was absolutely certain he was completely bundled up warmly.

Only then did she allow herself to fall to the ground, the cold sapping away her strength and resolve to live. Her child began crying, but at least she knew it meant he still lived. He would make it, but she would perish.

"You will survive... Smár Ingvar (Little Warrior)," she said with what strength she had left, smiling as his cries continued. "You are strong, and when you grow up... you will be stronger still... Where all others will fall, you will rise... Where all others fail, you will succeed... And where all others will see weakness, you will find strength..." The cold was numbing her to the point of hypothermia; she could no longer feel her body, but she still just managed to lift her head up to look at the child. "Though I don't know what you will become... I am already proud of you, my son... Ingvar..."

Sarah's head fell upon the ground, and she became still, while the cries of her child rang out through the forest as the storm raged on. A smile on the mother's face, even as her life faded away.

Her life had ended, but her son would live on...

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Snow crunched underfoot at an irregular pace, not at all like the regularity of a human's footsteps. Which was fitting, since the one it belonged to was definitely not human. Especially if the dead pale skin, yellow eyes, and disfigured face had anything to contribute to that knowledge.

Wearing only furs for clothing and armor, the Goblin trudged through the snow under the trees, occasionally stopping to sniff the air or listen in the trees. His orders were to scout out the territory of his king, and ensure that there were no enemies to their kind lurking within its borders. Reports had been coming in of humans moving in on them, and they had already destroyed the Goat Clan; his king didn't want theirs to be next.

The Goblin grumbled to himself, accidentally stepping into a particularly deep snow pile and angrily pulling himself out. He always had to do patrol duty. Why couldn't someone else give it a go for once? At least the king's son occasionally went out himself and helped lighten the load, but it was too far in between to really amount to anything-

He stopped and his ear twitched, catching a sound he had almost not noticed at first. Going completely silent, he listened again and heard it once more. It sounded like crying — more specifically, a child's crying. A very young child, perhaps still a baby. And judging from the pitch, it was a human baby.

That made him curious. Why would a human baby be all the way out here? Where even adult humans were known to lose their lives, whether by Goblin hands or the elements? Could it be a trap? But what if it wasn't? And if not, again, why was it out here?

Curiosity got the better of him, and he started to make his way through the snow, towards the young cries. His path leading him into the thicker parts of the trees, where the cries got louder as he got closer. Eventually leading him to the child... And a rather saddening sight.

In a hollow at the roots of a large tree, there was the child, bundled up warmly in a wad of clothing. And just a foot or so away, the woman who was presumably his mother, frozen and lifeless.

Despite what he may have felt about humans in general, the Goblin couldn't help but feel sympathy for the little one and his mother. Whatever had caused them to be put into such a predicament, he could only guess. All that was evident was that they obviously had not been able to find shelter during the storm. And now, one had perished to save the other...

The child cried once more, and the Goblin looked to him with a head tilt, creeping closer to better see the little bundle of life; it was no secret that, in sunlight or any bright light, Goblins often had trouble seeing straight. Years of living underground had made them grow accustomed to the dark, not the light. Even so, he was able to make out the child's form well enough.

So small, so tender, so... helpless. The poor creature would die out here if not tended to. However, that wasn't what fazed the Goblin; no, truthfully he could have cared less about that, heartless though it seemed. What got to him was when he took a look back at the frozen mother, and inspected her more closely. It was difficult to tell, but he eventually was able to determine that it was the woman whom had been placed under the protection of King One-Eye... so this creature was her son...

Fear gripped the Goblin, and he hastily rushed over to the bundle, and picked it up. He had no love for humans, old or young, but his fear for what would happen to him if he didn't abide by One-Eye's decree was greater than any hatred he may have possessed.

The child was still crying, much to his annoyance, but he stuck to his guns (so to speak). Tucking the child under his arm, he turned and began to make the journey back home. Back to the Goblin tunnels.

The King was going to get quite the surprise from this...