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LITTLE THINGS - Chapter 5
🕑 Added 2024-03-24 00:31:06 +0000 UTC“The Grand Alliance Wall of Lisiin is a wonder of the age, not just for its sheer scope and the strength of its construction, but also for its representation of a united Great Lisiin.
“The human kingdom of Larnach garbs its soldiers in red. The elven kingdom of Sanctum-Under-Willow marks its men with green. The dwarfish nation of Famnar Dus favors greys and golds. But the soldiers of the GAWL wear blue. They are dedicated not to any one nation, but to all of them. The High Kingdoms of Man, Elf, and Dwarf, but also the Small Kingdoms of the Quetzal and the Mer, all owe their continued safety to the brave men of the Wall. Lisiin’s border guard stand alone, and they stand for all of us.”
--Introduction of Walling Off the World, by dwarfish scholar Tarbult Finehand
Amy took a look at herself in the mirror. Not out of vanity, but simply to double check that she had everything she needed. Bow, check. Quiver fully loaded. Leather vest and green pants for camouflage. Brown hair tied back to keep it out of her green eyes. Amy did a little spin trying to see how it looked from all angles.
…Okay, maybe there was a little vanity involved. She looked like an adventurer!
Amy rubbed her ears. Kind of, anyway. Even if she still looked like a kid.
There wasn’t a guide on being a half-elf. For all she knew there weren’t any others. Human girls her age were basically adults in every way that mattered, but Amelia looked like she was only just starting to make eye contact with puberty. Of course, elves her age still needed a highchair. She confused a lot of people, most of all herself.
But even despite looking years too young, she was pleased with her reflection. She was ready to hunt down monsters! And with Madam Rosie’s Guidebook to lead the way she was certain she’d figure it out. Kill a goblin, solve all the problems.
The only issue is that she didn’t actually know how to track a goblin. She had an idea, but Dad had only taught her the basics so far, which meant she had to fall back on outside help.
“C’mon, Jaunt, please?” she asked. She definitely wasn’t whining.
The squirrel squeaked incredulously, crossing his arms and turning his back on her.
“I can’t track that goblin myself. I need your nose! Squirrels can track scents, right?”
Amelia and Jaunt had difficulties communicating. She couldn’t understand him with the same fluency her Dad could. But they had spent their entire lives around each other, and they’d figured out workarounds. Mostly through pantomime.; mimicking a bow and arrow quickshot was how Jaunt referred to his master for her, which he did now.
“I know Dad hasn’t been able to find him, but Dad doesn’t have your nose. If you can find acorns under three feet of snow, surely a smelly goblin would be barely a challenge!”
Jaunt grumped, looking put out for some reason.
Amy wondered about this for a moment, until inspiration dawned. “Hey… why didn’t Dad get you to help in the first place?”
The squirrel flinched and wrapped his tail around himself. The fact that this incidentally hid most of the gray in his otherwise red fur told her what the issue was.
“Because you’re old? What does that matter?”
It didn’t, was the immediate response. But Dad wanted Jaunt to enjoy his ‘retirement’ and didn’t think a single goblin was worth making Jaunt do the work.
Amy gave him a considering look. “You don’t look like you’d rather be sleeping,” she noted. “And maybe a single goblin isn’t a big threat, but everything around it is! Little things can cause big problems, and now that goblin sending everyone into a tizzy is affecting how the soldiers at the Wall are doing their jobs. That’s why I need to take it out! But to do that I need to find it.”
Jaunt looked at her uncertainly. She pushed on.
“If you help me, Dad will be able to take both of us hunting again, and you’ll have proved you’re still useful. We both will!” Jaunt hesitated, so she went in for the kill. “And if you help me I’ll dig out Mom’s cookbook and make those nutcakes we always liked.”
Why didn’t you lead with that? his expression screamed. He crawled up to her shoulders and chirped in acceptance.
“Great! Let’s get the scent from the pantry!”
“Ch.”
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Mr. Wood slammed the door behind him and braced himself against it, as if there was someone trying to get it.
As if it would stop anything from trying to get in.
The windows were already covered. The dark didn’t keep him out, in fact it invited him, but he couldn’t pull the curtains apart. He wouldn’t let him.
“Coin, Coin, damn you… damn you!” Mr. Wood walked past the fireplace without looking at it, trying to pretend the fire wasn’t lit. The dark invited him, but the fire opened the door. He couldn’t put it out. There wasn’t even any wood in the hearth anymore, but the fire kept burning.
He was losing his mind. The soldiers were distracted, that was good, but he wasn’t pleased. He would never be pleased. He could never be pleased.
He didn’t remember lighting the candle, but the second he realized it was lit he flung it away from himself. For a moment he hoped--prayed--that it would land on something flammable and end it all, but no, the wax lump managed to land upright, perfectly fine, perfectly aflame.
“What do you want from me?” he whispered. “What else can I possibly do? He’s an inch away from mutiny, they won’t listen to me for much longer… What do you want?!”
Mr. Wood punched the wall, made from coiled roots. He turned away and failed to notice the scorch mark his fist left behind.
Sweet Willows, he was losing his mind. He needed to calm his nerves. He needed something to take his mind off of it all, something to let him forget it. He needed… blast it all, he needed a smoke.
It took Mr. Wood several minutes to find his old pipe. He gave up the habit fifty years ago, after he took on his current job. Smoking was all well and good, a perfectly respectable pastime for the distinguished man, be they human or dwarf. But it never quite caught on with elves; a people who spend so much time tending to the trees built up a sense of wariness around fire. He gave it up because he didn’t think he could afford the negative perception it would get him.
Right now, though, he couldn’t care less. He found the old pipe in the back of a forgotten drawer; given how sticky it was, he might not have opened it since he stowed the pipe away, in fact. One of the issues with living in a tree is that sap could find its way into unexpected places.
Once he had it it was like meeting an old friend again. It fit between his lips like it had never left. “Now where’s that tobacco…”
The tobacco leaves, sadly, didn’t hold up as well after fifty years. Even sylvan tobacco went bad after so much time.
…
He groaned and dug the withered leaves out of the dusty jar. They were dry as the Bast and came apart in his hand but he packed it in anyway. He lit a match, sighed out some smoke, and pressed the flame into the bowl of his pipe.
He didn’t notice anything was wrong at first, not until he took a long drag and choked on the rancid, acrid fumes. It was awful, it smelled like compost if he was being generous, and it burned his throat.
It was the best smoke he’d ever had, simply because it successfully made him briefly forget all his troubles except this one.
He sat down in his den, turning his chair away from the fireplace, and focused on suffering through his old vice. Mr. Wood spent some time trying to think if he knew anyone who sold fresh tobacco in town. The other elves wouldn’t, but the humans might and the dwarfs definitely would… Had he ever patronized a human shop before? He definitely hadn’t the dwarfs, most of their buildings were underground and Mr. Wood hated caves.
He sighed, and decided to see if he could remember how to blow rings. He took a breath, looked up, and choked.
He was looking at him through the smoke.
Mr. Wood fell out of his chair. “You! I mean, Sir! My lord, er--!”
He spoke, and the weight of his words silenced him.
“...I don’t understand. W-what do I--”
The smoke swirled, and in it he found his answer.
“...Take him to the Wall? …Yes, I can do that, but--Ah!”
The smoke pouring from his own mouth wrapped around his throat. In that moment, it was as solid as any rope, and hot so very hot!
“Yes! I’ll do it right away!”
He left, his lack of presence dimming the fire.
In the corner, the candle winked out.
He wasn't gone, though. Not completely. He was still there, still watching. Always watching.
Mr. Wood shivered. “Damn you, Coin. Damn you…”
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Amelia had a plan. Well, more of an idea than a plan, but it was definitely the start of a proper plan.
The forest where she and Dad went hunting was west of Oakwood proper. Since that’s where she found the arrow, that’s where the soldiers were looking. Acres and acres of woods with soldiers scouring the place looking for a goblin camp, and they weren’t finding it.
That got Amy thinking, once she really thought about it. That goblin said he was hiding the arrow there so that no one would find it, but who would he be hiding it from? Humans? What good would that do him? He needed to hide himself from humans and elves if he didn’t want to be hunted down, and a weapon, even a single arrow, would be of more use if he kept it on him.
So what if he was hiding it from other goblins? She couldn’t figure out why that might happen, but if that was the case, then it stood to reason that he’d hide his arrow somewhere no other goblin would find it. If they had their camp in the woods, then it was possible for another goblin to find the arrow the same way she did, by randomly stumbling on the right bush.
So, maybe the camp wasn’t in the forest. But it had to be somewhere relatively close, or else he wouldn’t be able to go and retrieve the arrow when he needed it.
So, if everyone was looking west and weren’t finding anything, maybe they needed to look east.
No one would ever think to look for the camp against the Wall. It just didn’t make sense. There were soldiers along the Wall constantly, so wouldn’t they spot any attempt to build there?
Maybe not. After all, all the soldiers spent their time focused on the Deadlands. Why would they look on the other side of the wall, where everything was normal and fine? And if the goblins picked the right spot, they’d have to really be looking to see anything out of the ordinary.
Directly east from Oakwood was Trinity Tower, one of the only places on the Wall where a traveler could theoretically could pass right through to the other side. The tunnel was under constant guard and only three people had a key to the gate, but the guards were on the Dead side. That’s where the danger would be coming from, after all, and who’d be stupid enough to try and get past from the Lisiin side?
Just south of Trinity Tower was a new-growth forest. As far as Amy knew it was the only spot of green left that went right up to the Wall. It was quiet, untouched by Oakwood, and had a fairly thick canopy to hide from any soldier who did happen to look down the west side. If Vicky wanted to hide in plain sight, that’s where she’d go.
“Chp?” Jaunt wasn’t impressed with her logic.
“No, it makes a lot of sense!” Amy insisted. “Have you found the scent yet?”
No. “Kp, rrr.”
“What?” Jaunt spun a finger next to his head. “I’m not crazy! Madam Rosie’s book says goblins are cunning, so if I can think of it, so should they.”
The squirrel managed, through rolling his eyes and dismissive paws movements, to convey the idea that being as smart as a goblin is not something one should brag about.
Amelia kicked her foot in his direction, not trying very hard to actually hit. It caught his tail anyway.
Jaunt chittered angrily at her, grumbling quietly in an old man sort of way. They passed by a birch tree, and he suddenly stopped, tail twitching. “...”
“You find something?” Amy asked, trying and failing to keep the excitement out of her voice.
“...” Jaunt looked up and around, scanning for something. “Cht.” He pointed at a particularly thick birch.
A scary face had been carved into the bark with a knife, using two of the tree’s spots as eyes. The face looked vaguely like a goblin.
“I knew it!”
“Shh!”
“I knew it,” she repeated, much quieter. “Which way? Where are they?”
Jaunt looked a lot less enthusiastic than she felt, but he sighed and picked direction that led deeper into the woods… and closer to the Wall.
“Do you think they built right against the bricks? I’ve never been in the Wall, are the walls thick enough that no one would overhear? Actually how far do the levels go, is the Wall hollow at all or are the hallways all higher up, I know they have inside halls.”
“Shh!”
“Right, sorry.” Amy was grinning. “I’m just--I was right! We found the goblins! Or their trail, anyway!”
Jaunt made a worried noise, and made a motion Amy knew. He climbed up a tree to move through the branches instead.
“Get help? Why? Goblins are supposed to be easy monsters, right?”
“Chr.”
“I’m sure we can handle it.”
“Wh?!”
“Yes, we. What, are you scared?”
“YS!”
“Don’t worry about it,” she said, waving his concerns away. “Fine, if it makes you feel better, once we find the camp we’ll go report it to Captain GerRRYYYYYYY!”
She said the last part as a yell, because that was when she stepped off a cliff she hadn’t noticed because of the way the ground sloped.
Amy rolled down the hill with a shout, punctuating each rock and root she bumped against with a grunt of pain. Thankfully the drop wasn’t sheer, but it was steep enough that all she could do was slide.
At the bottom she got tossed end-over-end by a particularly large root and ended up coming to a stop flat on her face. Up above, she heard Jaunt’s panicked squeaking.
“Relax, Jaunt!” she called, not quite managing to keep the pain from showing. “I’m okay!”
Getting her arms under her, Amy raised herself up on her elbows and looked up to see where she ended up.
She ended up looking at a pair of legs covered in rags. She looked further up, and a dreadfully familiar face stared down at her with an expression of complete bafflement.
The goblin took a step back in shock and pointed a finger in her face. “You again?!”
