Chapter Five - Stranger

The wind swept through the golden hair of a woman, blowing it into her face. She brushed it aside quickly, giving little regard to the action as she moved forward.

Underneath the countless scars she may have been a beauty. But those days were behind her. She didn't have the time to focus on such trivial things. She had places to be.

Her feet fell confidently on the dirt path. Worn leather boots that had lasted her over a year. A good pair. Not nearly as good as the sword on her belt.

Everything was expendable but the sword. It hung at her side loosely, in a worn leather sheath. The hilt and guard were of simple wrought, or so the commoner would believe. The trained eye saw it differently.

The air returned a moment later. It carried with it the stench of corpses and burnt wood. Monsters had been there.

A fact she had long grown used to. She didn't even reel at the smell of it all. She certainly didn't reel at the sight. All the dead common folk in their simple garb. Their blood and guts strewn all over their simple homes and fields of basic vegetables and livestock.

A common tragedy. Poor bastards never saw it coming.

A long time ago she may have stopped to bury each one. To give them the care that she felt their life deserved. The world had steeled her though. Best to move on and focus on one's own life. One's own problems. The cut marks on her face and arms spoke to that.

She rounded a bend and made her way slowly down a paved path. The "rich" side of the village. Ahead a hundred feet or so were the dilapidated remains of the few decent buildings of the town. The inn itself was still on fire. Whereas the sign for the smithy was the only thing left standing of the place.

Pity. She could have scavenged some good metal or leather. At least a little bit anyway.

"Hum...hum..."

A low rumbling sound made her stop. She reached into a small pouch at her side and produced a glowing blue stone. It pulsated as she held it, the "hum...hum..." growing louder as she lifted it and pointed it towards the inn.

"Aah... there you are" she said to herself. She put it away and drew her sword in a flash, holding it comfortably, like an extension of her hand as she moved towards the entrance to the small tavern.

Most of it had burnt down, but somehow the frame itself still stood, along with most of the outer wall.

Every step she drew closer the stone vibrated more and more. Eventually, it was a steady humming in her pocket as she stepped into the place.

One large figure stood at the far side of the tavern, near the bar. It was guzzling mead straight from the tap with massive green hands and a large pig snout.

It turned and spotted her. A look of surprise that would cost it it's life as the woman dashed forward, crossing the twenty feet space between them in an instant. Her strike was true and clean, severing the beast's head from it's body.

"Idiot.." she said, spitting on the corpse of the dead monster. She reached around and into a large knapsack, pausing as she remembered, "right, I gave my dagger to that boy.."

She frowned, thinking to herself, "why would I do that? Now I must dirty my blade.."

The stone in her pocket stopped vibrating as the last bit of life left the creature.

She dropped to one knee and examined the thing. "A hobgoblin" she thought to herself, "a young one at that..." If it had been any older she wouldn't have had such an easy time killing it.

She rolled the headless body over, glancing over at the head that lay awkwardly some five feet away. It was staring lifelessly at the ceiling with black beady eyes whilst it's mouth hung open stupidly. She plunged her blade into the chest of the hobgoblin and made a clean incision. She inserted her hand into the cavity a moment later and rummaged around, examining an old woodcutting axe that hung on the burnt wall to her left while she did so.

It was warm, and mushy, and she found the heart a moment later. She pushed it aside and reached around, feeling a hard crystal like stone that she pulled out, blue blood dripping off the red stone. She flicked most of the liquid off with a sweep of her arm then put it in a very small pouch on her left side. She tied the pouch tightly then stood and walked over to the head of the hobgoblin, picking it up by it's thin black hair to carry it out of the inn.

All along the way speckles of blood fell from the head, leaving a loose trail on the worn floorboards of the place. She paid no mind.

Outside the mid day sun blinded her for a moment. She adjusted soon enough though and turned back down the road. Her stomach started to growl and she knew it was time to eat before she made the trek back to the crossroads-town of Grey Stone. Her horse was stabled there. She didn't dare to take it into monster filled areas. Better to walk a few miles than pay for a new horse.

She stopped at the crossroads of the paved road and the dirt path. To the right was the path leading down and into the woods, towards Grey Stone. The other was a dead end that led to some destroyed farm houses.

She plopped down on a low fence post that was wide enough to sit on, tossing the hobgoblin head in the dirt. She wiped her hands on her shirt and reached into her knapsack to pull out a length of dried jerky. She went to work gnawing away at the meat, looking around at what used to be a village.

She spotted a corpse of a young woman in the doorway of a house straight ahead. She had been violated then killed. A sight that made her undeniably angry. Yet just for a moment. She wasn't going to let it ruin her day.

The vengeance had been claimed after all. The dead hobgoblin at her feet was the reason for the destruction. Was the reason the goblins had managed to get so organized in the first place. It was gone so of course the goblins wouldn't come back.

The hobgoblin's greed to horde the alcohol for itself had left it alone and vulnerable. Which made her life all the more easy.

None of it would resurrect the dead though. Would allow the dead young woman to live a happy life. She got to spend her final moments getting fucked to death. Literally.

The thought made the woman grind her foot into the temple of the hobgoblin. She spit on it again and turned her attention back to the food in her hand.

"The day is beautiful at least.." she thought to herself. The sky was a magnificent blue with no clouds in sight. The green of summer was in full bloom and wildflowers dotted the ground here and there.

She had to keep a strong will. To look at the brighter side of things. Far too many times she had been to places, killed monsters, seen the horrors they wrought on innocent souls and it was gloomy outside. Raining. Fog. Dead of night.

It was nice to get some sunshine for a change.

She finished her meal and picked up the hobgoblin head, and was about to head back to town when she spotted two small mounds of dirt to her left, "Aah.. right.." she remembered. The boy with her dagger.

She wondered if she should wait for him. Surely he would be dead. If he was smart he would have taken the blade to Grey Stone to sell it for some change. At least then he could get a bed and some hot food before he was a beggar for life.

That was not what he did though. She knew it. The determination in the lad's eyes spoke to how much he wanted to save his friends. It's what she like about him. Why she gave him her dagger.

"Damnit all.." she sighed, stopping in her tracks to turn to the left. A night with a belly full of mead and a drunken woman between her thighs would have to wait. She had to see what became of the kid. Whether he was alive or dead. If for no other reason than to get her dagger back.