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  [Marrok]

  Fighting the next overgrown lizard – an alligator – they had found out when Forroll identified its remains, went almost exactly the same as the first; smooth and clean. Axe hit and retreat, pepper it with arrows to distract and repeat.

  Before long it was done, its lifegiving blood leeching out into the water in a slow thick flow. As it dispersed, the bloody cloud seemed to dance in the currents, swirling this way and that before the dark red fluid faded away from red to pink to nothing, like dust in the wind.

  The blood also seemed to agitate whatever was living down there, many more splashes and flickers of life were visible as the blood spread out into the water. Yet, no matter how much the goblins peered into the water, they could catch nothing but the barest of glimpses of life swishing past them. It only made Marrok more determined to avoid the water.

  The next alligator was different. As Marrok crept over to it, he noticed that it was significantly larger than the two they had defeated previously. Probably a male this time, they tended to be larger than females.

  It basked at the edge of its island, its tail and rear legs dangling out and into the water. The dark green scales seemed dusty and dry as it lounged. Marrok watched it for a long time, its position made it tricky to approach as the water behind it effectively cut off its tail and rear sides as attack avenues. This was troublesome, as that was where they had attacked in the past.

  The jaws of the alligator were very obviously its main weapon and the further the goblins were from them, the better. Although this alligator was a bit fatter, Marrok was under no illusion that it would be slower than the previous two, any attack would be responded to in quick succession and he knew that the first attacker would probably have to defend and retreat, attempting to bait it out, where they could get at its side. He would take that role, as he always did, he was confident he could avoid the attack, and barring that, survive it.

  The alligator watched them, seemingly content to stay on its little island for the time being. Marrok circled it, watching it all the while, gauging it. It followed him briefly, losing interest when he drifted further from it. As the other goblins shifted, it snapped its gaze to them.

  After a few minutes of teasing information from it, he was ready. As planned, Marrok once again initiated the first contact, jumping onto the island in front of it and charging forward. As he closed, it began to stalk forward ready to meet him. The others charged too, leaping over the water and attacking its flanks, now exposed as it moved forward getting its rear legs on the land.

  Marrok was five feet away from the beast when it exploded, propelling itself forward with immense strokes of its tail. He heard the chaotic splash as it used its tail to drive forwards. He skidded to a stop, eyes widening at the approaching beast.

  Reacting quickly, he swung his axe upwards, blocking its snout and open jaws with an upswing that caught the alligator in the jaw, pinning the mouth closed temporarily. Jumping back, he cleared enough space to dodge the beast as it landed, backpedalling quickly to avoid any further charge whilst also ensuring he made room for the others. Hrog and Glady on its left, and two more on the right.

  In hindsight, it had been foolish to place the two injured goblins on the same side, but they worked well together and Marrok had thought that sufficient to compensate for their weakened state. As they landed from the jump to the island, Hrog stumbled, his leg buckling from underneath him. The missing muscle, as a result of whatever lurked in the water that had started to eat him, unable to provide the required strength to support his landing, failed and he came crashing down on the island sprawling forwards.

  The alligator having stopped chasing Marrok, spun around and quick as a whip it latched onto Hrog’s arm. Glady, having spotted its motion, dodged backward thinking it was coming for him and leaving it uncontested space to get at Hrog.

  The two goblins on the other side landed savage blows on the beasts’ back, their axes sinking in less than before, but still deeply enough to cause pain. In return the alligator slapped them, swinging its colossal tail at them and with a meaty boom they went flying.

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  “Shit” Marrok swore a few seconds later as his mind processed what he had seen.

  Crashing down on the edge of the island, the two goblins who had been slapping slid over the edge and into the edge of the water.

  Glady, having recovered from his backwards dodge had the same thought as Marrok and leapt over the beast to drag them back onto dry land. Goblins couldn’t swim and those two would die without help.

  A mistake they shouldn’t have made for the alligator rolled.

  Goblins were used to surviving horrible injuries and since they couldn’t swim, Glady and Marrok had both decided to try saving the ones who would drown first, assuming the alligator would do survivable damage to Hrog. They certainly didn’t expect its roll.

  Using its tail and limbs to lever itself the goliath beast rolled over, jaws clamped on tight. Flipping once, Hrog groaned as his shoulder tore apart with a popping ripping sound as the muscles and tendons snapped and the joint violently slipped its socket.

  Blood squirting out of the new opening, his arm ripped away and the alligator swallowed it down in seconds. Smugly, it seemed to savour its snack, giving Marrok enough time to abandon the two who were drowning to Glady’s care and charge forward. The alligator, done with the arm, lunged forwards again, grabbing for the head.

  Marrok swung his axe with hope, letting the haft slide through his hands to get all the reach he could.

  To both their surprise it hit, loose in his hand it turned upon impact but the force was sufficient to push the jaws away from Hrog’s head and onto his shoulder. It clamped down with tremendous force and Marrok heard a loud crunch as bones cracked under the pressure. Reeling from the attack, the alligator attempted to drag Hrog away, towards the edge of the island.

  A scream echoed out from behind him and Marrok desperately wanted to turn to see what was happening, but he knew he couldn’t afford to be distracted, or wait. He attacked again, joined by the remaining goblins who had seen the chaos of the last few seconds unfold. They attacked the beast, axes and swords slamming down on it in a fury as Hrog was slowly dragged towards the water.

  Marrok was mid swing when he saw the beast shudder in what he recognised as death throes. They hadn’t done enough damage, what? He thought confused.

  Forroll, it was Forroll, knife buried in the alligator’s eye blood covering her hands as it blossomed from the opening, she twisted savagely for added effect, stilling the beast as its brain recognised it was dead. Smiling, she jumped up, darting over to the other edge of the island.

  The scream! Marrok thought, remembering it clearly as it echoed in his head, twisting also he followed.

  Clinging to the bank Glady, was slowly clambering up, hauling himself onto the land and dragging something with him. Behind him, in the cloud of blood the water flowed and flickered and splashed around with an intense fervour that made it seem almost alive, like it was boiling. Small flashes of red and gold and the occasional grunt from Glady showed the need for speed.

  They pounced, quickly pulling him up from the water, grabbing anything they could grip onto in their efforts. When he was out, he rolled away, laying on his back breathing heavily, coughing and spluttering as he rid himself of the water he had swallowed down.

  “Something hit!” he panted, “Something, bam!” “took him” “pulled me in” he said between breaths. “Held on, pulled him back” “but too late.”

  As they pulled the remains of the goblin that Glady had been dragging back towards the bank, they saw what he meant. An enormous chunk of its side had been ripped out, bone and flesh peeking through the armour out of its side. Huge tooth marks scarred the leather jerkin, evidence of the attack, that and the shredded clothing that hung limply, painted red and sodden with blood. Scarily large teeth.

  Extending across the wound, hundreds of smaller bites, were visible. Marrok thought they were like the ones Hrog had got when he had slipped in.

  Hauling the corpse out fully and onto the land showed the full extent of the damage. A few small fish came with it, flapping around on the land. Marrok hit one with an axe, cutting it cleanly in half as the blade buried itself in the floor, its brother, flopped close enough that its jaws could reach its bisected mate, took out a chunk, severing the flesh with an ease that astonished the watching goblins. Another axe blow came, killing it.

  The small fish had devoured enough chunks of the goblin to almost skeletonise the arm and shoulder, leaving gristle and bone with similar sections taken out of it. How sharp were their teeth, Marrok thought to himself. A few gristly white chunks remained, leeching blood, slowly leeching blood.

  It was a gruesome sight, and the goblins stood in silence, absorbed as they were by the sight. The first of their tribe to fall in the dungeon, his loss was a shame but necessary for the tribe to grow. Already he felt a touch stronger, faster and with this precious resource they would be so much more skilled fighters. Mistakes would happen, and here they could iron them out.

  Rushing back over to Hrog, Marrok was in time to watch him too die, bleeding out still stuck in the jaws of the alligator.

  Another death, and another one avoidable. He sighed.

  “Brothers!” he called.

  “Today we have lost two of our own, in exploration of this dungeon we made a mistake, I made a mistake, we lost Hrog and Dervo but it was not in vain, for everything we learn about this dungeon and everything we kill in this dungeon strengthens us. Strengthens the great Weir Wood Tribe.” Marrok spoke, feeling the words and their meaning. He smiled, knowing he was on for a winning speech. They were easy to manipulate…

  “I can’t speak for you all, but I feel stronger, faster, better already. Do you feel it too brother? We are already better than we were before, imagine what we can become.” He saw them nod along, agreeing with him. Taking his words down, hook, line and sinker.

  “We must push onwards, discover everything we can and then our tribe can train, we can train in here and become stronger than anything we ever dreamed of.”

  They cheered. This really was too easy, he thought.

  Together, the goblins stripped the gear from the corpses, and pushed the bodies into the water, watching it boil for a few minutes as the fish devoured them, flesh and blood and all. A fitting grave for them.

  In the centre of the island, he saw it: a hollow, and in the hollow a treasure chest.

  Loot.

  Wandering over, he crouched down, opening it up. Inside, he saw more useless gold, but more importantly he saw a beautiful axe, slightly larger than his current one, with golden engravings and a gleaming wicked looking edge. He smiled, his evil smile as he saw it. A sword and bracer too filled the chest. Yes, yes, yes. This was what they needed.

  He screamed his delight into the room, echoed by his brothers.

  The time of the Weir Wood Goblins had come at last.