Weiland ventured forward, following the path which spread out before him, looking for a trace of the young manticore. The manticore’s tracks seemed to disappear and reappear almost randomly. He almost lost them several times. Sometimes a small tuff of fur or a cracked branch was the only signs he could find for half a mile.
He was looking at a small indention which may have been a print in a berry grove, when he heard a soft crack. He froze and melded back into the forest, almost like a green ghost.
A large wolf came through the berry patch which just moments ago Weiland had occupied. On his back was a fierce looking goblin. The wolf stopped, alert, sniffing the air for a second.
Concealed in the forest, Weiland held his breath and froze. The wolf seemed to be picking up a faint trace of him. As it started to turn towards him, he started to quietly pull out one of the hand axes at his waist in preparation of confronting the wolf and its rider.
Then to his surprise, the goblin smacked the back of the wolf’s head and started to scream invectives at it. After kicking it in the ribs several times, the wolf growled. With one more vicious hit by its rider, it started to move forward again. Slowly at first, then making quicker headway.
Weiland sat stock still as a second and then a third goblin wolf rider went by him at a quick lope. After another minute, when no more riders came by, he let his breath out in a quiet whistle.
With the quest for the manticore was quickly forgotten, he waited another heart beat, then melted back through the woods and started to follow the wolves further in. He moved quickly but with a edge of caution as he knew a wolf’s senses were extremely keen.
The goblins didn’t seem to care about covering their back trail, as he didn’t once lose the trail. He was getting too far away for his own comfort though. He knew he was much too far for any assistance from his companions if he were to need it. Just as he was about to head back, he spotted a flicker of light through the tree.
Weiland ghosted up between two trees to inspect the scene before him. It was the goblins making camp for the night. They had a fire started with what looked like several globs of meat roasting on sticks over the fire. He heard the high pitch squealing of the goblin dialect as they seemed to be arguing about something. Then there was a thud and yelp as a rock hit the side of one of the wolves.
With a intense loathing for the green skinned creatures, the ranger unshouldered his bow and drew one of his clothyard arrows. He loosed it, hitting the nearest goblin in the back of the head. Unfortunately the arrow missed its mark and deflected off its skull. It ripped through the side of its head but only stunning it. One goblin jumped to its feet and scrambled behind the nearest tree, while the other skittered over to one of the nearby wolves. Like lightning another arrow leaped out of Weiland’s bow. It slammed again into the goblins head but this time penetrating its skull and pinning the black blooded creature to the ground, killing it instantly. Its death throws seemed make it look as if was trying to swim around the arrow as it remained stuck in the ground.
A arrow whistled nearby as a goblin frantically attempted to return fire. Unfortunately for the creature, the sound of the movement as it ran from its place of concealment, allowed Weiland to locate him in the underbrush.
Another three foot arrow screamed out from the ranger and struck the goblin through the shoulder. Almost simultaneously the goblin let loose the arrow it had knocked and it seemed to follow a path directly back to the ranger. The arrow struck him in the upper thigh, numbing his leg for a second with the shock of it.
Knowing he was running out of time, Weiland shouldered his bow. As he limped forward he pulled two hand axes out of his belt. Another whistle from a goblin arrow came to at him. Ignoring it, he pounced on the goblin archer who, in vain, put his bow out in front of him as if to to ward off the death blow.
Suddenly sensing movement behind him, Weiland flung himself to the side as two wolves rushed at him from behind. The first wolf missing his arm with snapping jaws by just the barest of margins. The second scoring on his leg, pulling it out from under him. As he fell, he lashed out with his axe and took the hand from one of the goblins. It fell back screaming for a second before it crumpled to the ground.
The wolves rushed back in at Weiland. The first going for his throat but missing. One did manage to gouge a bloody streak down his shoulder. He was able to quickly roll to his left and get to his feet. He took a quick swing with his axe and set it deeply into the ribs of the wolf nearest to him. With a yelp and a screech rest of the wolves turned away and rushed into the green darkness of the under brush. Weiland stood up just in time to see the tail of the final wolf rider fleeing into the forest.
With a curse Weiland walked back to the goblin’s fire and pulled a flask of cider off his belt. He took a deep draft of the tart liquid and sighed. He wrapped his wounded leg and checked the bleeding on his shoulder. It seemed to be stanched for now.
Weiland grabbed the stick with the roasting meat and smelled it. He grunted and threw it into the fire. He sat there for just a minute, then used his foot to kick dirt into the fire to smother it. He looked around the clearing one more time, shouldered his bow and walked back through the forest towards the rest of his companions.