It took us over an hour to drive from Denver to Quint's compound last night. Moving on foot, that same distance suddenly seemed considerably more daunting.

  The plan was to put the goblin camp behind, then descend down the mountains and go see what was left of the city.

  We were moving fast and without any stops for most of the day, yet we were still stuck in the woods where one tree looked much like any other. Neither of us had any skills related to navigation, and try as I might, I couldn't find a map among my menus.

  I was beginning to worry about getting turned around in this endless parade of lumber to be. The sight of the sun peeking through the tree crowns gave me solace. The cardinal directions were easy to tell even without any skills. I knew the city was to the east. We were still on track. And there was still a downwards slope to our path.

  I was constantly reminded of that by the pot sliding down the staff and bumping into my back.

  "You're really determined to lug that thing around?" Quint said after I cursed when the pot hit my shoulder blade. "Not like we've got anything to cook in it."

  "And whose fault is that, Quint?"

  Earlier in the day, Quint's Perception allowed him to spot a rabbit before it spotted us. However, his Sneaking and Ranged Combat skills apparently didn't add up to any proficiency in hunting. The javelin Quint tossed at the critter swooshed as it flew, spooking our would-be dinner into a dazzling dash.

  "It was your broken cane rattling in the pot that spooked it, not me," Quint insisted. "Seriously, why do you insist on keeping it? At least with my gun if we find a stash of ammo, it'll still work."

  "Hey, King Arthur had a broken sword. I can have a broken cane. Besides, canes are cool. When mine was intact, it did more damage than this piece of crap." I tapped the rusty falchion on my belt. "Perhaps we'll be able to put it back together someday."

  Quint was getting dejected. "We don't even know if there's anything other than monsters and rabbits out there."

  I wanted to point out how the description for the Dragon Tooth implied the existence of civilization. And that his Persuasion and Performance skills also implied there would be ways to use them.

  Instead, all this talking reminded me of how parched my throat was. We'd been walking in silence for the past few hours, and when I opened my mouth now, the words came out all scratchy and coarse.

  Not having any supplies could become an issue with food in a few days. Water was a significantly more pressing concern.

  "Quiet," Quint snapped, even though I wasn't saying anything. "You hear that?"

  "Nope," I admitted.

  I didn't hear anything outside of the usual forest noises of creaking boughs and chirping birds.

  "Babbling," Quint said.

  "You're the one babbling, amigo," I parried.

  "No. Babbling. As in brook. I hear water."

  I checked the sky to mark our current course. "Then lead the way."

  The timing of Quint's discovery put me on alert. But the possibility of a drink was too good to pass up.

  Quint soon led us into a clump of chest-high bushes we had to trudge through. I was disappointed they weren't thick enough for me to have to use my falchion.

  On the other end of this natural barrier was a small clearing with a stream, no wider than ten feet, running through it. The water was cold to the touch. As I lapped up the invigorating liquid and washed my face, I got a good look of the smooth rocks lining the stream's bottom.

  This stream was too pristine to exist so close to a major city. Despite living in Denver my whole life, I rarely ventured outside the city limits. I had no idea if this stream was a well-known fixture or if it was akin to the goblins – a new addition to the land. Then again, I could say the same about the trees.

  Unless I was more navigationally challenged than I thought, we were close to the Rockies' base. I was almost certain there shouldn't be such dense vegetation here.

  By the time my greedy sips slowed down, I noticed that my energy bar was refilled. It didn't go back to the full 100, but it was close enough to let me continue this trek without worrying I'd fall over from exhaustion.

  I was going to let Quint know about this discovery when he interrupted my unspoken words.

  "Hear that?"

  "You're babbling again, Quint."

  Then I heard it. The soft and understated swooshing sounds of movement along the forest floor. They were approaching.

  I straightened myself, drawing the falchion in a smooth motion. Looking at it in my hand, I struggled to recall the movement I just performed.

  Off to my side, Quint had a javelin primed. We had the stream behind our backs and our heads on a swivel.

  A howl pierced the air. A blurry dark shape zoomed past a tree, disappearing out of sight as swiftly as it appeared. That very same underbrush that hampered our access to the clearing was now a natural barrier protecting us from whatever was out there.

  "Fuck off, you beasts," I shouted in an attempt to scare the creatures off.

  A paired howl was my response. As that mournful note died down, a pair of monsters cleared the bushes in a single almost synchronized leap.

  They were big, scruffy, wolf-shaped, and entirely black except for their burning red eyes. Both of them had a goblin rider on top.

  Considering their riders, I had no choice but to designate the beasts as worgs. And if I knew anything about worgs, they were bad news.

  Quint lacked the same extremity-freezing preconception. I watched him launch a javelin at one of the beasts as an almost reflexive response to their leap. This time his target was in range. The javelin hit a worg's side, producing both a damage number and a pained whimper.

  Quint, used to shooting from the hip, was launching a second javelin before the first one hit its mark. That one finished the beast off. Undaunted by his steed's demise, the rider leaped off and immediately launched himself at us. He pointed his spear he was previously using as a lance directly at Quint.

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  This snapped me out of my momentary hesitation. Spending an instant to regret drawing the falchion instead of the staff for this, I rushed to intercept the goblin.

  A sideways swing deflected the spear when it was inches away from Quint's chest. As I was positioning myself to use the momentum of my charge for a deadly follow-up slash, something big and growling hit me in the back.

  The impact threw me off my feet. Shaking off the momentary disorientation, I realized the goblin fell with me and was now caught underneath. The tip of his spear was awkwardly jabbing under my ribs. I was much bigger and heavier, and the goblin didn't have the space for a proper poke. My jacket was enough to protect me from the spear's dull tip.

  I wasn't about to give the goblin the opportunity to find the purchase he needed to pierce my meager armor. I shifted my weight and started pummeling him with short, right-handed punches. Tap, tap, tap. The goblin screeched and redoubled his efforts to stab me. I could barely see the monster. I did see the damage numbers flying out of him. It was all ones and twos. Not a lot, but more than enough to deal with a goblin.

  Throughout this I fully expected to be pounced on, skewered, or otherwise attacked from behind by the other worg rider. That attack never came. When my goblin stopped struggling and went limp under me, I immediately jumped back on my feet.

  Quint was facing the second worg. The beast growled and paced, full of wild fury. At first, I couldn't understand why the worg didn't attack. Then it tried just that. In response, Quint raised his arm. His hand glowed and a flash of flames appeared on the ground between them with a loud crackle.

  The worg hated and feared the fire. Its rider saw this for the cheap trick it was. He pummeled his mount's sides with his heels to no effect.

  "It just an illusion, you bloody howler. Mush, mush," the goblin impotently raged. The words came out all garbled. There were definite notes of a cockney accent in them. The display would've been comical if the monsters weren't trying to kill us.

  "No, it ain't," Quint shouted. He followed that with another javelin. The antsy worg was zipping back and forth too much. The missile flew wide.

  While the goblin was busy trying to stay on the worg's back, Quint glanced at me with his eyebrows raised.

  I took that as my cue. Crouching to grab the falchion, I went after the distracted goblin.

  Between the two, I viewed the worg as the more dangerous enemy. I ended my charge with a nasty chop aimed at the beast's hind legs. At the last moment, the worg must've felt my approach. It turned around just in time to catch my attack on its snout.

  The dull falchion wasn't strong enough to cleave through the bone. It did leave a deep gash, causing the worg to buck with a whimper, throwing its rider off.

  I lunged to secure the kill on the worg. Before my attack landed, in my peripheral vision I saw the thrown goblin rider squirm into position. This one was wielding a metal-tipped mace. He used it to bash my leg as I was making sure the worg had yipped its last howl.

  Both attacks connected simultaneously. I didn't get the chance to celebrate depleting the worg's health bar. My entire world exploded when the mace smashed into the lower half of my knee. I was sure I was about to pass out, and that my leg was broken. Glancing at my health bar revealed that the hit only did 4 damage.

  I canceled my Kenny Loggins tickets. I was nowhere near the danger zone. This realization didn't help with the pain. Through gritted teeth I turned to the goblin, who was getting ready to strike me again. A clumsy stomp of my foot immobilized the goblin's weapon and sent another jolt of pain up my spine.

  With its slanted tip, the falchion was a terrible stabbing weapon. Still, I grabbed it in both hands and lowered it into the goblin until I felt the ground underneath.

  And that's when it hit me. Literally.

  Without warning, the chill of intense cold pierced my back. The cold dulled the pain, but the force of this icy blast threw me on the ground again. Compared to the mace, this didn't feel that bad. My health bar disagreed, showing a tiny sliver of red left in it. Along with a very ominous 2/16.

  I struggled to flip myself over. My vision went dim. Then a firm hand touched my shoulder. A rush of warmth washed over me. My health shot up to 10/16, as I felt a tingling sensation all over.

  It took me a few seconds to focus my eyes.

  A group of goblins, about a dozen in total, were gathered on the stream's other bank. Two of them stood out. A taller, bulkier one holding a gold-tipped mace like a scepter. And one who slouched so much, the bone necklace he wore hung perpendicular to the ground. That one had a headdress of intertwined twigs, feathers, flowers, and mushrooms.

  "Fucking shamans," I muttered.

  We weren't ready to deal with spellcasters, I thought before realizing there was no we. Off to my side, Quint was prone on the ground. He wasn't moving. I initially thought he was dead, but examining him closer his health bar was full. There just was a big X symbol next to it.

  I had no time to figure out what that meant or how to rouse him. The shaman was jumping around and chanting. The other goblins bristled with weapons, pointing at me and laughing coarsely.

  My options for how not to die here were limited. The stream was tiny. Trying to cross it would still slow me down enough to make me an easy target for the goblins. Quint's quiver only had two javelins left. And going by the shaman's increasingly erratic movements, he was about to unleash his spell.

  A diving roll put me within grabbing distance of the quiver. Rising to one knee, I tossed a javelin at the shaman. I had the same Agility as Quint, and with my high Battle Prowess and the Armament Master skill at 2 I was probably better than he was at ranged combat. My Strength even allowed me to launch the projectile further.

  One swish later, the javelin dug itself into the ground between the shaman's dancing feet.

  The shaman cursed at me. Not a magic curse, as you'd expect from one wearing a necklace of bones. He simply yipped and called me a motherless son of a whore in that same goblin cockney accent. When the paradox of this insult didn't implode the universe, the shaman restarted his chanting.

  I grinned. The shaman's outburst not only broke his concentration, it turned all the goblin heads towards him. In the meantime, over on their bank, my second, more surreptitious, toss was bearing fruit.

  With the goblins distracted, I sent the Dragon Tooth over to their side of the stream. I didn't expect much from it and wasn't even sure it would work. If it did, having an ally over there could be the edge we needed. Even if the warrior was weak, he would still buy me enough time to get to the goblins without a sharp greeting.

  The moment it landed, the artifact righted itself with the tip pointed upwards, a spear's shaft sprouting under it. It was like watching a sped-up timelapse of a flower growing.

  First it was just the tip, then a spear, then the top of a blonde head, then the rest of the warrior holding the spear. The entire process took no longer than five seconds. It produced a marvelous specimen of masculinity. Completely naked and seemingly impervious to the dirt he'd grown from.

  One of the goblins noticed him and raised an alarm before my final javelin skewered him.

  I had no idea how to communicate to the warrior that I wanted the goblins gone. He didn't need much to take the hint. The moment my javelin hit, he jabbed at the closest goblin in a swift motion. The spear went through the monster like he was made out of wet paper.

  The goblins roared and swarmed the warrior. He was ready for them. Instead of pulling his spear out, he jerked it to the side, splitting his first goblin open. He then met the onslaught with such a fast twirl of that spear that it became a shield in his hands.

  There were too many goblins for that to completely save him from harm. The monsters surrounded him and started slashing and poking at his unprotected form. That was when I examined his health. His health bar had a fancy frame depicting a dragon with a long streaming tail. It topped out at 96 health.

  For each chip of his considerable health bar, another goblin fell. By the time I remembered my original plan to use the warrior as a distraction to cross over, the chief's entourage was wiped out, leaving only the boss goblin and his shaman. The shaman who had finally completed his spell.

  With a final hop and a throaty gurgle, the shaman called forth a wave of frost that flew straight at the warrior. Despite the distance from it, a wintry chill gripped my bones. It hit me like a bucket of cold water. Steam escaped from my mouth as I gasped at a solid block of ice that materialized around the warrior, completely encasing him.

  The two remaining goblins cheered. The chief raised his crude scepter and took a few cautious steps towards the frozen figure. Just as he raised his weapon to shatter the ice, it cracked from the inside, startling the goblin into a panicked retreat. Ice turned to water, freeing the warrior and gushing into the stream.

  The warrior's spear pierced the backpedaling chief. After his deadly jab, he kept moving. As he passed the goblin who was still coming to terms with being dead, he yanked the spear free, speeding up to chase the shaman.

  The shaman didn't even know he was in mortal danger when the warrior's spear went through his neck from behind.

  With his posture straighter than his spear, the warrior turned to face me. He dropped to one knee and bowed. I was struggling to find the right words to congratulate him on a job well done, thank him for saving our asses, and express concern with the amount of goblin gore he'd left behind.

  I didn't get to do any of that. His task completed, the warrior's entire shape grew translucent. Before I could blink, he dissipated. Even the Dragon Tooth that spawned him was gone. The item description did mention a single battle.

  Now that it was over and the warrior had left, I needed to figure out what was wrong with Quint.

  Billy Joel Facts - Chapter 13: