CHAPTER 1.21 - THE GOBLIN CAVE: IV
Glorp finishes his rambling plea. The pair of goblins are obviously terrified. Anuk wonders what it must have taken for a race self-described as followers to even think of speaking against their masters.
Rian stands, nodding. The others look up as he says “Right then.” Hugo, jovial: “Operation Rescue the Children?” Rian, more certainly than Anuk has ever heard him, responds “We kill Graasht. And his hobgoblin. And Fruk, and any others in that room. And we rescue the children.” Thae asks “No mercy at all?” much more question than challenge but Hugo seems similarly perturbed. Anuk sees Rian’s expression, decides to help the man out.
“They need to be removed. Fully. The big ones, if we let them go, will just come back, this time with a vengeance. And the ones who rode the coat tails of the tyrant? They’re worse. He’s a monster, but they’re harming their own tribe. For status.”
The pair stare at her, horror lingering on their faces. But, after a moment, both nod in mute agreement. Anuk catches Rian’s eyes flicking to her, gratitude on his face. She nods, rounds on Glorp. “Your people need to do their share.” The old goblin stares up at Anuk sadly. He’s obviously trying to make up his mind about her, but she sees the trait Rian described. The goblin’s desperate to please her but thinks he can’t deliver. “They hurt, they scared, lost all they know.” Fart, in punctuation, blows a nose like a steam organ along the length of her arm, fat tears still rolling down her face. Anuk’s ready to grab the elder when she feels Rian’s hand on her shoulder, briefly, as he kneels to look Glorp in the eye.
“Try, Glorp. If we fix this, they learn they’re nothing.” The old goblin looks perplexed, but Anuk understands the woodsman’s point. She takes over: “Rian’s correct. If the tribe bent the knee to Graasht, then what’s to stop anyone just wandering in and taking charge? If we remove this tyrant for you, it teaches them they can’t choose their own way.” Glorp’s eyes are widening. He’s still staring into Rian’s face but seems to be drawing himself up out of his habitual slump. Anuk’s surprised, irritated when Hugo butts in: “But if they’re responsible for their own liberation, the least it can teach them is that they can choose!” She has to admit the little shit speaks well; the passion in his voice is probably fakery but it sounds stirring. Anuk watches as Glorp does his best to stick out a chest that’s practically convex. Fart sidles in closer to Rian since he shifted, but she’s nodding, her filthy little fists clenching.
Glorp, a warble of fear in his voice, announces “Will try. Will try very best.” Rian scans his companions, tips his head towards the main cavern. “Show us where the children are, then.” Another shudder runs through Glorp, but Fart moves to his side, grasps his upper arm. Anuk had been thinking ‘couple’, but reads something more familial between Glorp and the young woman. The pair moves at speed, Fart supporting Glorp as his rolling gait becomes more chaotic. He’s muttering as he goes, a mix of Common and Goblin words spilling forth.
As they cut back through the main settlement, the whole tribe’s eyes are on their group again, but Anuk’s more focused on a word that keeps coming up in the old goblin’s monologue. “Trap.” Fart, her gaze having left Rian for a brief time, catches Anuk’s concern. The girl obviously speaks only Goblin, but nods and smiles in what Anuk is sure is intended to be reassurance. Goblin faces are poorly constructed for reassurance. There’s a reason they’re used to scare children in stories. Still, Anuk tries to force a smile for the girl. She can’t bring herself to pantomime Rian’s exaggerated expressions. Maybe the goblin gets it, maybe not.
A tunnel leads into the back wall of the cave. This one bears way more evidence of being fashioned, perhaps widened from a natural passageway through the stone. This bends near its start, arcing deeper into the cliffs than the main cavern, then becomes a straight line to a pair of doors – the first real construction they’ve seen in the caves – almost 100’ ahead. As Glorp barrels on, the group exchange glances, each trying to slow their progress, but without this being obvious. It seems everybody picked up on ‘trap’. Fart notices their pantomime and whispers something to Glorp. The old goblin nods impatiently, raises his stick to indicate an otherwise identical stretch of tunnel. “Yes, yes. Showing, showing.”
As they approach, Hugo’s eyes raise to the ceiling, then immediately snap to the floor ahead. Anuk is perplexed until she spots an indent in the tunnel roof, camouflaged behind an outcrop of stone. A broad log is held in a metal construction resembling arms within arms. Suddenly, Anuk understands. On some trigger, this log will swing on its gantry to deliver an almighty punch to anyone unfortunate enough to be standing there. The near end of the log is clad in a rounded metal head like a cannonball. The thought of the momentum which would be channelled into that metal makes Anuk woozy. She joins Hugo in his search for tripwires or pressure plates on the floor but can’t spy anything out of the ordinary.
Glorp wheels around to face the group, all of whom jostle to a stop. He spots Hugo and Anuk scanning around the floor, his shit-eating grin widening wickedly. As he scans Rian’s face – the big man’s ahead of her, so she can’t see his expression, but his position suggests he’s staring at some point on the floor. Glorp looks quizzical, smile almost dropping, then gives a small, filthy chuckle. Rian stiffens as the old goblin takes a step backwards, the woodsman flinching as Glorp crosses some line invisible to Anuk. Nearly soundless, the huge weight of the tree arcs down, design of the holding struts evening the mighty movement to a flat blur of acceleration at chest height.
Despite the goblin standng a good distance ahead of them, they’re barely beyond the thrust of the log. Anuk feels her stomach drop, is impressed at both Rian and Thae’s reactions. The big man flattens himself against one of the side walls. The half-elf, rather than evade, grabs Hugo by the collar and throws the halfling further back towards her. She looks furiously to where Glorp and Fart were standing, is shocked to see them both covering their mouths, suppressing giggles as the mechanism swings back, quietly re-housing itself into the ceiling. The goblin pair scrambles back a few feet before a smooth click suggests that the mechanism’s ready to engage again. Hugo speaks up, quietly saying “That whole section of the floor’s at a slight canter; it’d probably trigger on the weight of a dog.” As he does so, he picks himself up, gesticulating to them to stay where they are. The little man waves off Thae’s apologetic look as he strides towards the edge of the pressure plate.
It's still sickening to watch the huge inertia of the trap, but Hugo’s correct in assuming he’s in no danger. The log, which would eradicate even a short human, swings safely over his head. As he passes, Hugo points out the lines of the near and far edges of the finely balanced plate. The full thing is approximately a square, somewhere between 4-5 feet to an edge. Rian looks immediately to her: “D’you need a hand over?” He smiles, cocks his head as she throws herself into a sprint, bunching her leg muscles to dive forward. She’s satisfied to see Hugo, Glorp and Fart scatter as she hits the floor into a roll propelling her several feet beyond the safe edge. She didn’t feel secure trusting Hugo’s read of the pressure plate, therefore designed her leap to be as low as possible. Plus, fuck them for scaring her. Turnaround’s fair play.
Rian obviously watched her for secondary confirmation. He performs a far less showy, functional leap across the switch. He lands, nods to the group, then drops into a crouch-walk, readying his pike as he focuses on the door. He means to be first through. He passes her, face all business, then spots her confusion. He turns as she does, both facing Thae.
She gestures to the cleric to come on, but Thae returns an unhappy headshake. “I can make it…” says the acolyte “…but not without a lot of noise. I will stay here until you breach, then follow as fast as I can.” They stare for a moment, but Thae’s expression’s set. Rian nods, crouches to Glorp and says “See your people, try to help us” before returning to his stealthy approach of the door. As they fall in behind him, the big man urgently whispers “’I’ll take out Graasht as fast as possible. Please, you two, make sure those kids are safe. Thae’ll be right behind me, we’ll sort it out.” For all his social ineptitude, the man sounds certain. Hugo’s nodded a few times at the back of Rian’s head before turning the gesture to her; apparently the little guy is fully committed to the plan.
She looks back as the trap triggers for the third time, the pair of goblins hustling back to the main cave. Thae catches her eye, performs a crisp salute, raising Warhammer to chest level. Listening to the half-elf talk, it’s easy to forget that Thae has more martial training than the rest of the group combined. Right now, though, the blonde is fully believable as Holy Warrior. Anuk, bolstered, slows her breath, focuses up. She joins her companions in their stealthy progress towards Graasht’s room.
-x-
Rian and Hugo both have their ears pressed against the door. The halfling whispers “It’s that horrid goblin language, I can’t tell if they’re fucking or fighting!” He seems to realise what he just said, has the decency to look apologetic, but Rian mutters “They are arguing. Can’t hear the kids over the shouting. We have to get in there.” He looks to them for confirmation, then raises three fingers to Thae, folding one into his big palm as he confirms the half-elf saw him.
Feels herself tense in the moment of silent countdown. Watches as Hugo gently levers down the door handle exactly as Rian accelerates shoulder-first. It bursts open with a crash. He’s charging into the room, voice rising in a sustained bellow as he picks up speed. She’s quite impressed. Even from here, the crash and jangle of Thae leaping across the pressure plate is flattened, maybe drowned out by the giant man’s roars.
Anuk joins Hugo frozen in the doorway as they take in the room. Her heart drops; there’s too many people in here. Three goblins, a bit heavier built, have looked up guiltily from where they are half-slumped, half guarding an animal cage. This contains a couple of huddled, terrified children. Even if the cage weren’t super cramped, sized as it is for a large dog, she senses they’d be clinging to one another. Reads this as a mix of protective shielding and trying to be less visible.
She turns to Hugo, confirms that he’s seen them, but also sees her own misery reflected in his expression. Another two goblins, equally sporting the ‘bully’ aesthetic of the three surrounding the kids, are standing over what could only be the pile of extracted bones. At least these ones seem to be occupied, frozen as they are doing something she can’t quite perceive. Their weapons are on the floor at their feet, as the pair of them seem to be fighting over a small device.
Near the centre of the rough room, a goblin’s idea of a throne stands like a chair built from trash wood. It’s adorned with three skulls, very scary, she thinks. In front of this is a tall goblin, twisting itself obsequiously, seemingly interrupted in pleading some case. At the right side of the throne, to Anuk’s view, stands a lithe figure. The one instance of good posture in this place, fitting Thae’s description from earlier. The hobgoblin is itself reminiscent of the cleric. Dressed in chainmail, this creature holds a long scimitar in one hand, shield in the other. It looks unsurprised, falling into fighting stance as it observes the charging woodsman. Worryingly, it doesn’t look at all intimidated.
Too many figures, but most discouraging is the monster on the throne. Or, rather, rising from it. Rising endlessly. Even though her brain tells her it isn’t much more than a foot taller than Rian. The woodsman’s broad, all shoulders and bulk, but this thing is impossibly wide. Truly monstrous. As it rises to meet Rian’s charge, it says in Common, in a deep gravelly voice: “Good. Good.”
