1.38 – The Broken Trail

Rika passed the next two days idly enough while she waited on her gear. Mornings saw her drilling sword forms and exercising out in front of the inn. The rest of the day she chatted with Addy, Marieta, or Chryson. Mostly she was interested in the region around Canyon Falls, the workings of the Adventuring Guild, and anything Chryson could provide from his vast stores of knowledge. Once her gear was ready, she formed a plan with Erik, and they headed out early on the third day.

Clad in her new kit, Rika took the lead as they struck out on the narrow road leading down from Canyon Falls. The haubergeon sat comfortably over her new gambeson, and her repaired brigandine completed her panoply. While she’d have preferred something heavier, like maybe a scale coat, this would do. The chain covered her upper arms and thighs. Her suede pants and quilted sleeves would provide enough protection, at least for what they were walking into. She’d have to get a helm one of these days, though.

When they reached the main road, the goblins’ path was clear. Broken underbrush and gashes from weapons on trees told of a large force approaching through the woods. That trail cut toward the main road’s lower switchback. Upon reaching the road, the goblins had left more than enough tracks on the dirt cart path. Rika led them both along the road, retracing the steps she’d taken in her fevered march to Canyon Falls.

It was fairly clear from the abundant signs that the goblins had taken no care to hide their approach. Then again, why would they? As far as they’d known, a force of over two hundred strong marched on a small mining town. Sure, there’d been good defensive terrain, but how could they have known they’d face a defender like Rika?

By all rights, though, she shouldn’t have held them off. Two hundred to one? Impossible odds. Even with Erik tucked away in his safe little pocket, he shouldn’t have kept her up through all that. Even with her hasty barricades, she should have been overwhelmed. Chryson had told her that the Dark Warrior was a powerful class. She just hadn’t expected it to show its power so soon.

“Mind you,” Chryson said as she turned over her thoughts of the previous quest stage, “the kind of stat spread you have is more important than you realize. Especially with the way your class feature, Balanced Defense, works. Armor aside, you’re about as tough as a proper Bastion right now, even though such a class would have a higher Resilience score.”

“I mean, I outlasted Vilmos down in the caves,” she pointed out as they walked along the mountain road, trees rising to either side and giving them shade and relief from the midday heat.

“Vilmos wouldn’t have lasted long regardless,” Chryson said. “He was reckless, as you saw, and trusted too much in his class and gear. Didn’t have enough respect for his lack of experience.”

“You picked up all that just from watching? Or did you have a chat with his Oracle when I wasn’t looking?”

“As I said,” Chryson replied, “I am a first generation Oracle. I’ve been around long enough that I can recognize types.” He sounded almost offended that she’d questioned his read. Almost.

“Oh? What do you think of me, then?” she asked once her curiosity finally won out.

“I think you’ve benefited from the tutelage of sensible and experienced individuals. You think and act quickly, and that has served you well. Half the reason you’re still alive, I’d say.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence?”

“You are very welcome.”

Their little chat lapsed into silence. At first, she’d just considered Chryson to be little more than a vessel for her class and all the information she needed to properly use it. Although one with a fairly distinct personality. But since she’d been pulled into that strange vision, she’d realized there was a lot more to him. His personality seemed to come out more in their interactions, too. She supposed that if he was going to be her constant mental companion, it was probably best they got to know one another.

The path blazed by the goblins on their march to Canyon Falls followed the road for all the first day, and most of the second. It finally diverged and led off into the mountains just a short way away from where Rika had first been ambushed. The sun had almost completely sunk behind the peaks by that point, so they camped at the same spot she’d used. If there were any goblins nearby, there weren’t any signs of them. At least, not aside from the massive warpath made by the defeated raiding party.

Hopefully, that meant the goblins in this area were of the same sort Rika had first encountered. Low level, and only of the most basic sort. If they were, that would explain why they were keeping clear of a two-person party. Goblins may be aggressive and savage, but they weren’t stupid. They’d know a losing fight when they saw one.

Early the next morning, they left the road. The goblin warpath led them over increasingly rugged terrain. Their going slowed, but the trail blazed by the war party was still fresh enough that Rika was glad she hadn’t spent their credits on the Wilderness Survival skill. They followed the track as the sun climbed higher and their destination closer. About mid-morning they fell prey to their first ambush.

A pack of about twenty goblins burst from their hiding places among the rocks and the trees. The opening attack was a hail of javelins, followed by an assault of crude axes. The ambush party consisted of only skirmishers and foragers, and none higher than level fifteen. Such basic foes hardly posed a threat, and Rika dealt with them easily enough. Erik pitched in, too, tossing stones with his sling.

Even at level fifteen, a forager fell to a single basic swing of her axe. A Shield Slam sent them flying a half dozen feet. Using either Dark Strike or Rend against these enemies was all but pointless. They landed one or two hits on less-armored parts of her, but even then, she barely felt it. The ambush was as one-sided as it was pointless. It raised a question, though.

“I thought the goblins around here were all level three, or at least close to that,” she said as she pulled her axe from the last of the ambushers.

“They were,” Chryson said. “That appears to no longer be the case.”

“Any idea why?”

“Likely the were pulled in from deeper in the mountains by the quest.”

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“So even the fairly ‘basic’ types like foragers and skirmishers get higher level?” She’d never really considered that a goblin might gain levels. But since they had levels, and she’d encountered progressively higher leveled ones as the quest progressed, they’d have to be getting them from somewhere.

“Further away from settlements, yes. This close to the lands of someone like your father, creatures often have difficulty growing too strong. Should the goblins become too much of a nuisance to the locals, a quest would spawn. They’d be dealt with by someone quickly enough. However, deeper in the mountains, they have more opportunities to flourish.”

“So something is attracting these goblins from further away.”