Zal’Rodal waited in the forest with two Stenjin, their stone forms rolling through the underbrush. As the sun disappeared behind the treetops, the Yellow Handz tribe arrived with Glol at their head leading them back to the Dark Lord. The tribe was twenty goblins strong and equipped with crude weapons and eager grins. Zal’Rodal reckoned that their numbers should be sufficient as a nighttime strike force on a small thieving crew. He noticed the Stenjin looking at the goblins with mistrust as they arrived though their expression lasted only a moment.
The Stenjin curled up into a ball and beckoned Zal’Rodal and his forces to follow them. Their bodies rumbled through the forest leaving a clear path in their wake. The goblins charged after the rolling balls of stone ever deeper into the forest. While the goblins’ eyesight was more than accustomed to seeing at night the Stenjin seemed to have no issue navigating either. The stone creatures were able to feel the vibrations of the ground around them, which allowed them to pinpoint exactly where they wanted to go. The goblins followed deftly, they knew this forest well as most of them had dwelled there until recently. They neared the river Eberon as they followed the Stenjin in the night. They heard the rushing of the currents and saw the silvery reflection of the stars in the river’s dark waters.
The young Stenjin, Spen, pointed an arm across the river, small rocks and debris from the forest floor crumbling out of his frame as it stood. “I can sense them, the Heart of the Mountain is on the other side of that river,” Spen said.
“Do you know how many are in the camp?” Zal’Rodal asked.
Spen’s body shivered for a moment, it stomped on the ground twice with its right foot and answered, “I sense a dozen humans and two creatures on four legs, I think you call them horses.”
Twelve were more than Zal’Rodal had expected, but if they caught them by surprise they should still not pose too great a threat, and the Stenjin made a surprise attack nearly guaranteed, lookouts weren’t very effective if their location could be pinpointed.
Zal’Rodal ordered his goblins to look for fallen logs in the forest to create a makeshift crossing, the frequent storms around the mountain nearly guaranteed that some trees would have been uprooted. While the goblins searched Zal’Rodal noticed Migaal looking intently at the sky. The ferret’s demonic eyes reflected the stars with clarity until suddenly they disappeared from sight. The Dark Lord looked up at the sky and saw the stars shrouded by heavy clouds. He still wasn’t sure what exactly fell under Migaal’s powers, but the demon seemed to have provided even greater cover of darkness.
Zal’Rodal waited as the goblins slowly but surely dragged three logs towards the river, they had attached ropes to the thick trunks and dragged them across the forest floor. The Stenjin rolled in the path the logs would take flattening the floor and ridding it of any obstacles. Once at the river they connected all three logs with ropes and secured one of them to their own side of the riverbank before pushing the three logs into the water. One of the goblins climbed the improvised bridge until it reached the other side and secured the log there as well. It wasn’t much of a bridge but it would suffice for them to cross the river and return, the goblins and Zal’Rodal crossed the logs to the other side slowly but surely. The Stenjin climbed the logs, the wood creaking underneath them but it held firm long enough for the crossing.
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The group snuck through the night like shadows. The goblins were expert ambushers and moved soundlessly avoiding stepping on any branches or rustling any bushes. The Stenjin followed a ways behind them, the goblins making sure the coast was clear before the heavy stone creatures made their way to join them. The Stenjin stopped them and informed everyone that the camp was just ahead of them, but that there were two lookouts in their way. One of them was leaning next to a tree and the Stenjin pointed out their location, while the other seemed to be furthest away from the camp and slumped against the side of a tree, presumably sleeping.
The Dark Lord sent out three of his goblins to take care of the sleeping bandit and another four to take care of the lookout. The goblins crouched in the underbrush and made their way towards the sleeping bandit. He seemed a younger man, a great bow leaned against the side of the tree where he slept. The goblins saw that he held an opened wineskin in his hand. Fool, they thought, drinking is for safety after the raid. Even goblins knew this.
The goblins appeared surrounding the bandit, one of them covered the man’s mouth while the other two slit his throat. They searched the bandit immediately for loot and started pocketing everything they found. One of the goblins took the great bow from the dead man, though it was unlikely to wield it effectively. Goblins had a simple and pragmatic approach to choosing weapons, bigger was stronger.
The other four goblins approached the lookout at the opposite side of the camp. They would not be able to sneak up on him as easily. They split into two groups one of them rushing around the lookout in a wide circle while the others waited, bows in hand. When the goblins were in position, one of the archers tossed a rock to the side. The noise distracted the lookout long enough for the two goblins lying in wait to approach and subdue the bandit.
The goblins returned to Zal’Rodal and their companions and readied themselves to attack the camp. The campfire’s glow flickered across the bandits’ tents, casting jagged shadows on the trees beyond. Their horses were tethered near the edge of the clearing, restless and uneasy. A few weapons lay scattered carelessly around the fire. The bandits seemed more occupied with roasting the meat that would serve as the goblins dinner than preparing a proper watch of the camp. Zal’Rodal ordered the goblins to spread out surrounding the bandits and to only attack at his command. He hoped that the increased archery practice had paid off.
Zal’Rodal watched as the goblins scurried to their positions. A month ago, they would have blundered through the forest, noisily alerting every enemy in that camp. Now, under his guidance, they moved like shadows. If they survived tonight, perhaps they could be trained into something more formidable—soldiers rather than canon fodder.
