The goblin screamed and everything seemed to happen

  at once. Arrows fired from the bows of goblins stationed in the branches above, weapons glinted in the firelight as the goblins on the ground charged towards him, and Bjorn dived towards his shield and weapons belt.

  Unable to get all of his weapons whilst dodging the onslaught of arrows, he grabbed at the first thing his hand grasped: a seax. Wrapping his other hand around the grip on his shield, he rolled over his weapons belt and crouched on his haunches, pulling the shield above his head mere moments before it was pelted with arrows.

  Daring to look over the rim, he saw four goblins charging towards him, weapons poking and slashing out.

  I suppose now is a good time to try out this new skill of mine, he thought and activated Forlorn Hope.

  The effects were immediate.

  He felt his shield become lighter and was suddenly more aware of how best to position it. Not only that, but before he had realised what he was doing he was punching the shield outwards and catching the closest goblin in the face with it. Blood exploded from the goblin’s nose and then he was punching his seax over the rim of his shield and through the creature’s neck. It spluttered, eyes going wide as it dropped its weapon and threw its hands to its neck to no avail. Blood gushed out from the wound and the goblin dropped to the ground, convulsing.

  Maybe this skill is for more than just defence after all, Bjorn thought.

  A volley of arrows flew at him once more and Bjorn leaped to the side, brushing arrows from the sky with his shield like they were mere flies. Then he was slashing outwards with his seax and cutting a gash on the chest of a surprised, spear wielding goblin.

  He kicked out at the same goblin who went flying backwards into the other two, shrieking as it went. Then he was turning his gaze skywards and throwing his shield at the closest archer who fell with a thunk nearby. Catching the shield as it fell back down, he jumped and dived onto the creature, smashing his shield into its face over and over until there was nothing but bloody pulp on the floor. He felt amazing, like nothing could stop him. The goblins may have outnumbered him but they were weak before his power.

  Then it hit him.

  Another volley of arrows flew across the campfire and Bjorn blocked them, but this time the other ground goblins charged in unison, led by the original goblin with the off-putting grin. With no time to block all three, he stopped the spear from getting through his defences but felt red hot pain as a curved, rusted sword slashed at his femur. At the same time a goblin with two knives stabbed him a few times in the ribs.

  He saw his Life’s Blood drop, but it was not as drastic as he had expected, even though the pain was severe. Was this the part of his skill which raised his vitality? If so, what would happen when the skill ended? He needed to wrap this fight up quickly if he wanted to survive.

  As the knife wielding goblin pulled one blade out of Bjorn’s ribs and moved to stab him once more, he stuck his seax through its throat, using the seax’s longer reach to his advantage. Then he forced his shoulder forwards, knocking the spear wielder off balance, and his seax was slipping from the previous goblin’s throat and gliding across the rim of his shield, prodding the spear wielder in eye.

  It screamed, gunk and goop leaking down its face and mixing with the blood from its already slashed chest and Bjorn followed up with a swift front kick which knocked the goblin to the floor. Meanwhile, the goblin with the two daggers went limp on the ground.

  He heard a whoosh, arrows flew towards him and he rolled out of the way, knowing that the goblin with the curved sword, the leader, would use that opportunity to strike.

  As the lead goblin dashed forwards, blade slashing, Bjorn threw his shield at him and wasted no time dashing behind it. The shield smacked into the goblin’s torso with a crunch and it shrieked angrily, waving its sword around. Out of its blind spot, behind the shield, Bjorn dived towards it closing the gap and getting between the sword and its user. Then he stabbed his seax into its chest and it let out a high pitched, gargled scream and it tried to punch him. Grabbing its fist, he headbutted it and wrapped his spare hand around the slender wrist which held the curved blade.

  Twisting it backwards, he felt a snap and the sword dropped to the floor. He took a step backwards and grabbed it, bringing it overhead and then he was slashing downwards and the lead goblin’s body split in two. The two sides of its torso stuck together for a moment, a confused expression on its face, then they slowly glided apart and a torrent of blood and guts splashed to the floor, covering Bjorn in the thick, irony fluid.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  Turning around and looking up, he saw the remaining archer goblins frozen. Their eyes were fixed on him; green mouths open wide and showing rotted yellow teeth. Then they were running, or more precisely, swinging through the trees as they desperately tried to get away from him.

  I do not think so, Bjorn though with a smile as he dashed to the side and yanked his bow out of its holster.

  Bringing the bow up and nocking an arrow, he pulled the string back, elbow high, to his cheek and lined up one of the fleeing goblins. Then he loosed and he heard a grunt followed by a thud as the stuck goblin fell to the ground. As he grabbed at another arrow, he suddenly felt much weaker, felt the battle-pain far stronger.

  Forlorn Hope has ended.

  Requirements met. Weapon proficiency [Seax] has increased.

  Requirements met. Weapon proficiency [Shield] has increased.

  Requirements met. Weapon proficiency [Bow] has increased.

  Bjorn grinned as he read the notifications but the exhaustion and pain he felt was overwhelming. With barely the strength to stand, he dragged his body towards his tunic and ripped a piece of cloth from it. Then he wrapped the cloth tightly around the nasty, oozing cut on his femur. He gasped, gritting his teeth against the pain before remembering a harsh lesson that his father had once taught him about dealing with deep cuts.

  I have already done this once today, he thought. First the sea serpent, now these goblins. Will the pain of healing wounds never cease?

  Swallowing hard and steeling his expression, he loosened the bandage, then placed his seax’s blade into the fire. Breathing deeply and applying pressure to the wound, he waited, and once the blade’s metal had turned a bright orange colour from the heat of the flames, he acted.

  Grabbing a nearby broken branch, he placed it between his teeth and bit down hard. Then he pressed the heated blade to the wound and a cry passed his lips. He held it for a moment, then another, all the while the charring flesh of his femur stung at his nostrils. Then, when he could not withstand the pain any longer, he finally dropped the seax and fell backwards, letting the sleep-abyss consume him.

  ***

  Muninn’s Sight activated.

  Hrafn soared over the forest canopy a few miles away from where he had left Bjorn. It was dark now, gloomy clouds blotted out the stars above and the raven was thankful for his enhanced vision. Bjorn could feel his thoughts, his emotions, but it was muted. He could not communicate with the bird but at the same time he felt that he understood him.

  From his vantage point in the sky, Hrafn could see a dim topographical view of the surrounding area. There were thick woods as far as the eye could see, behind him was a beach and the whale-road where Bjorn had washed up. To the left, merely a few leagues from where Bjorn had landed, was a snaking swan-road. A narrow, winding path of water. It was the perfect width for a small longship like a karvi, or a fleet of them, to travel further inland in this strange country.

  “Take note, Bjorn,” Hrafn squawked aloud. “That swan-road is likely where your allies went. If you wish to find your fleet, I would suggest following it.”

  Bjorn could not reply but agreed with the bird’s assessment. He had not consciously activated Muninn’s Sight himself and was beginning to wonder if Hrafn had done it so that he could speak with him. However, he was quickly pulled from his thought-cage musings when he saw something out of the corner of Hrafn’s eyes.

  Firelight flickered in the tress near the swan-road. Hrafn must have seen it too because his eyes focused on it and then he was swooping down towards it.

  Wings carefully navigated dark tree branches until the firelit area came fully into view. A horde of goblins, at least a dozen of them, were jumping around a fire. Moving in a circle, weapons raised overhead, they danced around something in the centre, something in the fire.

  That was when a wailing cry pierced the quite night air. The cry of a man. Hrafn did not dare to move closer for fear of being spotted and shot down by the savages, but squinted all the same, trying desperately to make out the source of the noise.

  As goblins danced around, he saw him.

  Sigurd was tied up and bleeding, bruises covered his face and he was sitting in a blackened pot which stood over the fire. Water covered him to his waist and the skin which touched the water appeared to be reddened.

  “They are boiling him,” Hrafn squawked quietly. “What kind of barbarous land is this that you have taken me to?”

  Bjorn did not know the answer to that, but he desperately longed to awaken, to save his brodir.

  “I know the inner workings of your thought-cage and even if you exit Muninn’s Sight,” Hrafn said. “You will not wake for a while yet. It will be too late. You cannot save him.”

  Bjorn’s thought-cage rattled trying to think of any way to circumvent the sleep he found himself trapped in. He could not let his brodir die. He could see him right there, a few leagues away. If he could only wake, he could sprint there in less time than it would take for Sigurd to boil and be eaten. Why could he not act? What kind of torturous burden was this Muninn’s Sight skill?

  “There may be another way,” Hrafn continued. “But I am not certain that it will work whilst you are sleeping. Worth a try though. If you can access the weave right now, whilst seeing through my eyes, you may be able to contact Ullr.”

  I can contact Ullr, Bjorn thought. Through the weave?

  Then he focused on accessing the weave and before Hrafn’s eyes, it appeared.

  “Ah, so it does work whilst dreaming,” Hrafn commented, obviously able to see it as well. “Focus on your oathsworn, Bjorn.”

  Doing as the raven commanded, he focused on Ullr’s name in his status sheet. He thought about her, saw her fair face and blonde hair in his mind’s eye. Then he pleaded, begged the gods to let her hear him, to let her act on his behalf and save his brodir.

  There was no reply. No sign to say that his message had been delivered, no indication at all.

  Then, on the far side of the clearing, bushes began to rustle.