The goblin horde paused, some with weapons still raised menacingly, as they watched their former comrade’s body burn. Almost as one, they turned back to face Beleg who stood there with a wide, almost maniacal grin on his face.
The large warrior brought his outstretched pointer finger up to his lips and gave it an audible puff of air as if he were simply blowing out a candle. “Who’s next?” he asked casually, wagging his finger in the air, seemingly trying to decide which creature to smite next.
Each one of the ugly green-skinned creatures took a step back, some of them tentatively while others were quicker to move away from the insane man before them. A few of them looked back and forth at each other, grunting and growling softly to egg each other on and figure out how to deal with this new situation.
“That one,” Ras called out, pointing roughly towards the back of the pack. Again, the horde moved almost in sync, but this time it was to take a few hasty steps away from the poor goblin that was now being targeted. That lone critter crouched down and placed its clawed paws over its head, as if expecting a strike from heaven above to blast it away.
At the same time, both Beleg and Ras leapt forward and started cutting at their foes with a renewed vengeance. Since none of the goblins were paying attention to the two adventurers, focused as they were on waiting for their colleague to suffer horrifically in a blast of divine fire.
Five of the goblins fell to the two flashing blades, two for Beleg and three for Ras, before Kre thought to join in the onslaught. He stepped forward with one hand still keeping his pants pulled up while he swung the other at the nearest patch of pale green skin. Unfortunately, that was about the same time that the goblins figured out that there would be no inferno from the skies to blast one or more of them from existence. They reacted amazingly fast, at least to Kre’s perception, and his own target swung a thick, rusty metal bar into place to block the attack.
The two of them locked eyes. Kre’s brown eyes and the goblin’s sickly yellow ones, wide with a rage that frightened Kre with its intensity. It’s lips curled back in a menacing snarl, its anger visibly evident in every facet of its being. Two others turned to join in on the stare down and brought their own weapons to the ready.
Given his current predicament, Kre had no time to wonder what Beleg and Ras were doing, but he did feel assured that they would be sufficiently covering his rear, leaving him to deal with only these three on his own without fear of being ambushed from behind.
The tyrfang in his hand felt heavier and the grip seemed much slipperier than it had just a moment before. His choice of weapon was a good one though, not that it was really a choice, since it was light enough to be held with one hand as his other must remain dedicated to his pants situation. He brought the blade up in front of his body in what he, and all the other boys in his village, believed to be the proper form they learned from playing their stick sword fights. That, unfortunately, was the extent of his knowledge and ability with a blade.