Morgan strode into the goblin camp without hesitation, his rusty iron sword hanging from his left hand in a way he hoped mirrored the goblins. A few snarled at him as he passed and, regrettably, he had to snarl back to maintain his cover.
None attacked him or blocked his way as he marched right to the centre and stopped in front of the executioner goblin. From what he'd seen, goblins were sadistic creatures that revelled in the pain of others – much like a certain guard captain.
So, betting on this trait he barked out an order to the goblin as he raised his chipped axe.
"YUGYUG BOOVOO. *(Stop, have better idea.)*"
"RAGH QUEN! *(WHY STOP! CUT HEAD!)*"
"RAGH HURMY THRUMTHRUM. *(Cut head, scream short. My way, scream long.)*"
That seemed to convince the goblin as he lowered the axe and looked at him expectantly. The humans however were mostly glassy-eyed and didn't react, there was one male that perked up and looked at him in confusion, then rage.
Now, to see if his plan worked.
"VRAGH TRAGH NURGH! *(Gather wood, I make fire.)*"
The goblin's eyes lit up like stars as he hopped from foot to foot and ran off to carry out his order. They were quite obedient creatures if only someone looked past their sadistic nature, and of course their victims.
Glancing around, he confirmed the goblins were focused elsewhere and crouched by the only coherent person to enlist his aid. What he wasn't expecting was for them to immediately headbutt him, causing a crack to leave his nose.
He stumbled back, blood spilling from his rebroken nose as the person spit in his direction. A few goblins noticed the commotion and rushed over, while yelling and shrieking.
Morgan did his best to hide the crimson blood flowing from his nose and rocketed upright, his sword pointed at the man even as he yelled at the goblins.
"JIGGY RUMPTAT! *(Stop, this one's mine!)*"
They all stopped a few steps from the man and hissed at him but didn't proceed any further, it seemed either they weren't used to such direct commands or he'd done something to earn their respect, whatever it was, it was working for him.
When they eventually wandered off a few minutes later, he crouched down again and looked at the man. He still had rage in his eyes, but they were locked on the crimson blood dripping between his fingers.
"Shit! Issy can you do that healing thingy on my nose? I'll be busted if they see my blood!"
"…Issy…? Um… yes… freeze for… a moment…"
A cool, tingly feeling flashed across his nose for a second and he felt the flow of blood stop. Iskandar's breathing grew laboured after that ordeal, and he wondered if he'd overstepped, they hadn't even had breakfast yet!
He shook his head and turned back to the man – paying careful attention to staying out of his reach this time. The man's eyes widened as they looked between him and the skull-like face leaning over his shoulder. Thinking about it now, Morgan probably didn't give him the best first impression.
Still, he was rightfully mad about the broken nose. It hurt like a motherfucker.
"Fucking really!? Are you trying to blow my cover! Goblins are dumb, but if they smell human blood and see I bleed red, more than one is going to catch on."
"You're a human?!"
Three words. That's all it took to nearly make Morgan consider leaving him here. Sure, he wasn't an Adonis, but he would say he was at least a solid seven. It wasn't his fault he was covered in blood, shit, and dirt with no shirt, a skeleton strapped to his back, and a broken nose!
Morgan glared at the man, his eyes burning with righteous fury.
"Fuck you! I'm here to save you, not to get emotional damage! I've just had a rough few days!"
"…"
The man stared at him in doubt.
For someone tied up in a goblin camp and in line for a tortuous death, he sure was judgy.
Sighing, Morgan stood up and walked away. Axe goblin had amassed quite the pile of twigs so far and his plan would need preparations… and more wood.
"GRUBTRUB! *(You three, get big wood.)*"
He pointed at a trio of goblins that were just standing nearby staring at the ground, then at the woods, and gave them an order. While they were gone he started making a small pyre in the centre of the camp and connected it to the crowded tents with clumps of dried grass.
He'd started to notice a few oddities about this forest during his time here. Most prominent was that, despite the trees being laden with water each and every morning, the ground was dry and lots of the underbrush was brown.
But, attributing it to an unfamiliar climate, he proceeded with his work, scattering dry grass all around the camp that was built in a dried up riverbed.
It took him two hours to finish the setup and assemble the pyre at the centre of the camp, he'd also taken the liberty, and set up a wall of sticks in the direction he would flee. Now though, came the moment of truth.
"HERNER BUGYUG! *(Small sharp, long string!)*"
The camp was crowded with goblins that eagerly awaited the screams of burning humans, so it was easy to find one to fetch what he needed. Within minutes, the short goblin ran back with a small, chipped knife and a piece of rope.
Morgan walked over to the prisoners, knife in hand. His left hand shot out towards the nearest person – the very judgy man – and rested on their shoulder.
He chuckled as they flinched, then stood them up, slipping the knife into their hands as he walked them over to the pyre.
"Follow my lead, when I give the signal, cut your bindings and grab two of these catatonic people before running that way, I've cleared the goblins there and set up a diversion."
The man nodded and Morgan stood him on the pyre facing the way out. He then dragged the three other people over and positioned them in a circle around the central stake.
His heart beat fast in his chest as he grabbed two sticks and a board – he didn't want to ask where the goblins got it as he dreaded the answer, still, it was there and would be useful. Using his sword, he carved a divot in the board before stacking a bunch of dry leaves around it.
Sweat beaded along his forehead, he'd never tried to light a fire this way and if he failed, he'd likely die. No pressure at all.
He wrapped the rope once around the straightest of the two sticks before tying the ends tight to the other stick forming a makeshift bow drill.
'Breathe, in… and out… Okay, let's do this.'
Picking up a flat rock from nearby he set it atop the straight stick and began pulling the bow back and forth. The stick ground against the board like a drill as heat built up, minutes passing by without success. But just as the goblins started growing restless, smoke wafted off the board.
Morgan sped up while gently blowing on the spark. It spread quickly, consuming the dried grass as it grew into a flame which he used to light a long stick.
A wave of noise battered his ears as he raised the flaming stick and the goblins let out excited woops.
The man grew restless as Morgan approached, his hand fidgeting with the knife. Stopping by the base of the pyre, he gently tapped the man's foot, it was time.
Heart racing in his chest, he watched as the man sawed through the hemp rope around his wrists and reached for the two closest people – a man, and a woman. Shifting the torch to his broken hand alongside his sword, he winced and plunged it into the dry grass at the base.
In an instant the fire roared to life and began spreading as it greedily consumed the fuel. Not wasting a moment his hand shot out and grabbed the last person – a woman – by her bindings, before he broke into a sprint.
The torch dragged along the ground behind him as it ignited the flammable materials he'd strewn about. Confused goblin noises sounded as the fire engulfed their tents, slowly cornering them.
However, one was different, a roar of rage sounded as the tall goblin from earlier burst through a wall of fire, its glare hotter than the blaze around it as its murderous intent settled solely on Morgan.
A shiver ran down his spine and he pushed his legs faster. He just needed to reach the barrier he set up, there was no way it could pass it once he set it ablaze. The woman dragged behind him with a hollow, empty gaze, her legs moving on autopilot.
He crossed the brook in a single step and dropped the torch, it landed on a long pile of sticks and rolled for a few seconds before catching. A wave of heat washed over him, singeing the tips of his hair as the flame ballooned from a small ember to a blazing inferno.
'Phew, I made it. They shouldn't be able to follow me past here, not without going around-'
Morgan's eyes widened as the fire rippled, an enraged goblin launching itself through. Pushing the woman to one side, he went the other, and the goblin flew between them, landing on the rocky shore with a light thud. It turned slowly to him.
Its body seemed to bulge and flex in strange ways as the flames gnawing away at it dulled from a bright orange to a dim red. Veins bulged beneath its skin as the sword in its grip groaned slightly, the red of its eyes spread to the rest of its body.
Like a feral beast, it rocketed towards him, sword coming down in a wide overhead arc as a deafening roar buffeted the wall of fire, a wall that wouldn't last forever.
He had a minute of two tops, once it burned out, any surviving goblins would descend on him like piranhas. This had to be quick.
Raising his sword, Morgan attempted to deflect the goblin's blade while sidestepping. The results were less than stellar.
With a mighty crash that sent bursts of pain up his arm, his sword shattered. Pieces of metal raining down on him like snowflakes, as the goblin's blade continued unhindered.
"Argh!"
Morgan screamed in pain as the blade dug into his left arm by the bicep and sunk to the bone before being ripped out. Everything from that point down went numb as white-hot agony lanced through his body, his arm hanging loosely from the shoulder.
Blood poured like water out of the wound before it dripped down the length of his arm and off his fingers onto the ground.
Pain clouded his mind, making it difficult to think. If not for the goblin stopping to lick the fresh blood off its blade, then he likely would have been cut down.
'Oh no not again! I don't want to die! Think, think, think, what do I have? A broken wrist, bruised and cracked ribs, a mangled nose, and now a partially severed arm? No. That won't help, what else?'
He pushed his brain and body to the absolute limit, blood pouring from every orifice as the capillaries burst. His mind raced like a runaway truck as every detail, no matter how small or insignificant, was noted and analysed.
He could feel the wind on his skin, the rocks shifting beneath his feet, even the stench of the goblin's breath. But none of that could help him.
In every direction he looked, it was empty. There wasn't even a stray log lying around because he'd thrown them all on the fire. Was this where his story ended? Cut down by a roided up goblin after trying to help people?
Then, like the first rays of sunlight cutting through a storm, he saw it. In the chaos he'd forgotten about one thing, and that thing glimmered on his right wrist under the light of the flames.
'It'll have to do.'
His gaze hardened as he fumbled for the keychain, left hand hanging uselessly by his side.
It was more difficult than he thought it would be, and as he tried in vain to grasp the keys, he was forced to dodge another swing of the goblin's sword, his feet sinking slightly as the muddy riverbed sunk under his weight.
Each twitch or spasm the goblin made was recorded perfectly in his mind, and slowly a pattern began to emerge. Whatever the red glow around it was, clearly put the goblin in a berserk state and limited its already low intelligence.
Which was good for Morgan as it meant the goblin kept repeating the same three attacks, overhead chop, thrust, and horizontal slash. For his plan to work, he'd need it to thrust the sword at him.
But there were two problems, the goblin was incredibly fast, and he couldn't work the keychain off his wrist – which had decided to swell up again.
'Fuck it, I can barely think as it is.'
Faster than the eye could see, the berserk goblin dashed forward, the tip of its sword glimmering red as it skimmed over Morgan's ribcage and slid between his left arm and his body.
'Now or never'
Time slowed for Morgan as the goblin began to slice up, there was no way to dodge the blow that was coming, he just had to be faster. His right arm swung wide, the force causing a single key to spin into his grasp.
With sharp precise movements he shifted his grip on the key and slammed it into the goblin.
Metal met flesh with a wet crunch as the key disappeared into the goblin's ear. Morgan grabbed the key firmly, his wrist screaming in pain, and churned it around.
In an instant the goblin stilled, its body locking up as a thin stream of green blood dribbled from its ear. Slowly, its body deflated and it fell to its knees, the sword clattering uselessly against the pebbles.
Morgan's knees buckled and bent as he was dragged down with it, his arm still stuck in the keyring, which was currently locked into the goblin's skull. His vision dimmed and darkened as the ground rushed forward to celebrate his victory.
'This is nice… so fluffy.'
His body seemed to float away, taking with it all the pain he'd endured and leaving him to float peacefully on a cloud. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest, the heat of the flames on his feet and the scalding feeling of his own blood on his skin. All growing more distant by the second.
His ears tingled slightly, the sound of a thousand bees drowning out any other noise. At one point he could swear a panel appeared in his vision, but he was too tired to focus on any details, and ignored it.
Why'd thinking have to be so hard, it was so much better when everything stopped.
Like Iskandar for example, he was pretty sure they were saying something, but the words didn't make any sense, why didn't they just stop? Though to be fair, they might have been speaking the common language, his ears weren't working properly.
'Oh… well… that's a problem… for future Morgan. I think… I'll take a… nap now… this rock… is quite comfy.'