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(There's a bit of a timeskip, so Breden will speak to Griz when they meet again.)

The last couple of days had been interesting for Breden. Ashe had gone on to do whatever it was she did with her alchemical reagents, while Breden and Griz had taken their shares of the meat and gone their own ways. After donating a bit of the food to the tribe's granary, Breden had taken a day off from hunting to practice with his spear, as well as to catch up on sleep. Goblins didn't have the same stamina as humans did and often took a nap in the day. This wasn't a luxury afforded to hunters or for farmers during the harvest season.

Today, Breden's hunt by himself had gone reasonably well, with three rabbits caught; two in a trap he had set and one killed personally with his spear. He had just made it back home when he saw a young goblin girl waiting in front of his hut, still eating the green apple Koglan had given her. This was something of a treat, given that only humans grew those fruits in this area. Either it had been traded for or it been stolen in the night. If it was Koglan, he likely bought it fair and square, but for those goblins who knew where the human orchards were, robbing apples was something of a means of survival, even if ran the risk of angering the humans if caught. As far as humans were concerned, goblins robbing apples was a child's story, but too many losses would make them learn the truth.

"Uh, hi there, little girl. Aren't you a bit young to be wandering off from your mother?"

Meanwhile...

Siwa hadn't gone dancing lately. With Koglan helping her out with food, she didn't need the coin so urgently. The tribe's granary had helped her, but they only let her take so much at once, and she only took the foods which she needed. This would have been barely enough to live on without being pregnant, but with so many babies in her, she needed more than what the tribe's largesse could provide. This was normally where she'd be supported by friends and family, but she had few brothers and none of them were willing or able to help, and her sisters also needed help to stay fed as well.

Of course, she could push herself to work in the fields and keep a bit of the food she personally harvested, but she didn't want to risk straining herself in her state. She had visited Koglan already, unofficially trading breakfast for her by giving him a little shoulder rub. It had been a while since she met her lady friends, but most of them were too busy in the fields this season anyway, and Siwa just didn't feel like going out or doing much of anything today. This must have been the morning sickness she'd heard about. It must have been really bad for her, since it was past noon already.
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With half a deer's worth of smoked meat stowed away, it would mean that Griz wouldn't have to worry about food for the next handful of days. Maybe more if he chose to eat only twice a day, but now that Griz had some free time for himself he opted to go help out the warriors train the novices of the tribe. Approaching the fighting pit, an older goblin with greying hair waved at him with friendly recognition as the novices he was training continued to do so as he chatted with the hunter. "Griz! What brings you to the pit? Want to settle a dispute or for another matter entirely?" "Nah, I just had a free day and thought that I give you a hand in training the younglings." Hearing the statement caused the older goblin to nod and smile wider at Griz in appreciation. "Perfect timing. I swear to the ancestor spirits, these boneheads could barely hit the side of a hut ten paces away." As if to emphasize a point, Griz saw a couple of the novice archers not only fail to nock an arrow but, also manage to spill the arrows in their quivers as they attempted to pick the fallen projectile up. Griz only grimaced as he realized that this would be more time consuming than he originally estimated.

Two days later and a shitton of work, Griz was proud to say that he'd managed to refine the novice archers' skill sufficiently enough for them to hit the side of a hut. It doesn't sound like much but from their previous level of competency? It might as well been comparing day and night. None the less, he was thanked by the goblin instructor and was on his way home when he spotted Breden talking to a female youngling eating what it seemed to be...an apple? That was an uncommon sight. They usually had to steal or trade it from humans and seeing it in the hands of such a young girl caused the hunter to raise a brow.

Approaching the duo, he'd greet them both and ask the young girl where'd she get the apple. If she had stolen it, he'd have to scold her as she was too young to be going outside of the village, less so stealing from the humans. If she obtained it from a different source, he'd have to go trade some for himself. Been a little while since he got his hands on fruit other than berries.
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The little girl goblins smiled munching on the fruit happily, maybe even taking her time to eat it in front of the pair. A playful little smile on her face as apple juice ran down her chin where she scooped up to suck it off her fingers. After abit she swallowed and smiled, "Sorry, It's been along time. Last time was when Mommy managed to grab three from the farmer's orchard." She licks a little more apple juice off her fingers then continues, "I was going to see my mommy, but Smith Koglan caught me, gave me this apple, and said to find you two." She points at Griz as he approaches and Brendan. She hums and holds off another big bite of apple to finish, "He says he wants to see you, he said..." She clears her throat, and the impression she does of Koglan is a little high pitched for the deep voiced smith but the attempt is there, "Do not take no for an answer. They must come." She giggles, and hops up and down on her feet, "He gave me this apple for this errand!" She munches into it and then runs off waving at them as she goes.

Koglan meanwhile stood in front of his forge, looking at the ingot of steel in front of him, it calls to him today, with no orders for tribe necessities or weapons or armor for this hunter or that warrior, he has some time on his hands, and he feels it's time to use some of his steel. Some armor perhaps, a chest plate to ward against the axe of the orc or the blades of the humans. Never know when it will come in handy. He nods, and reaches back to grab the chain to operate the billows.

Whump...Krrrsh....whump krrsh the sound of the billows and the roar of the fire as the forge builds hotter.
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"Alright, then. I'll- oh, Griz. I guess we'll go to Koglan's forge. And maybe see Ashe later, if she isn't too busy. Feels like we haven't seen her in weeks, but it was only a couple of days since we last saw her. Go figure. I'll head on to Koglan's, then. And little girl? While Koglan is a goblin to be trusted, don't go around accepting treats from strangers, please. Suppose it was a human who offered you that apple, or worse, a human food made with honey. Or even sugar! Don't take the bait. They just want to lure you in an kidnap you." He would have elaborated, but he didn't want to lecture the girl too much. Goblin slaves were known to be cheap labor, especially for household tasks. While the humans in the nearby village didn't practice slavery, many other groups of humans and other species did, particularly those taken from the "lesser races" such as goblins and kobolds.

Perhaps it was best that she got the apple from Koglan himself, though. A goblin that young would have a hard time finding her way back to the village if she had gone out as far as the human orchards, and it was likely that she'd have difficulty getting through the woods in any event. The same forest which hid the goblin village also acted as something of a barrier to leaving it. The dense foliage was tough to navigate, especially for a young goblin, whose feet hadn't developed the thick soles of an adult yet. Breden himself had tried to get through the woods as a boy, only to find that he had to turn back halfway after stepping on one too many thorns and rocks. Even today, his feet were still a bit soft, but they were rapidly toughening up with all the hunting he had done lately.

Breden headed down the well-trod road to Koglan's hut, and by well-trod, one could literally see the many footprints goblins had left going to and from the smithy. It seemed as if Koglan's wares were in demand. That wasn't necessarily a good sign. High levels of weapon-making usually preceded a war, and there had been talk of conflict not too long ago. Of course, it had come to nothing, but it was still a concern. While he wasn't the only smith in the entire village, one could count the number of smiths on their fingers in this tribe, and Koglan was by far the most skilled and hardest-working.

He heard the whooshing sounds of the forge as he approached the rather large hut and stepped inside, feeling the heat even from the front entrance.
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Griz nodded in understanding, at least the little goblin girl wasn't needlessly risking her life for some fruit. "Yeah. She may be an odd one, even for my standards...but it's unhealthy for her to stay cooped up in her hut." He tells Breden as he waves back at the apple munching youth before following the younger hunter to Koglan's forge. The chimney billowing plumes of smoke was a good sign that the goblin smith was present, affirming it, even more, when he heard the telltale sounds of a billow pumping air into the hot coals of the forge.

Stepping inside, they immediately are met with the heat that radiated from the forge even from the entrance of his home. Nature Spirits know how the hell does the old goblin manage to stay near that heat, let alone, work beside it tirelessly for hours on end day in day out. None the less, the smith wanted them here and he didn't want to make him wait any longer. Knocking on the side of the hut's wall, Griz calls out and announces their presence to the goblin smith."Koglan? We're here as requested."
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Koglan hummed as he looked the heated metal he's working on over. Looking down it's flat face and towards Brendan and Griz, "Ah you have both come! Good. Good." He gestures for them to approach, towards the flames and a pair of covered objects resting atop an anvil. He looks the pair over, "I have heard much in the last few days. Brendan made a fine kill. And Griz, Griz has mentored Brendan well." He looks between them, "I am not so old that my hearing is going bad. Nor my eye failing to see it." He nods.

He motions for them to take a step closer, "I usually have a goblin trade for something like this. But it is not unknown for me to make a gift." He pulls the cloth off the two blades, "One for each of you, Brendan, for you, no more flint or scrap blades. No, this is a fine hunters iron here. You shall learn to care for it, to wield it well. It's a hunter's blade, very broad of use, but in a pinch can be used to fight with." He then looks to Griz, "Give that old thing I repaired months ago here." He holds out his hand, "For it will no longer be of use to you. For one of these blades is meant for you. No crack in the edge, a better cutting edge. It will do you much better."

He gestures to the blades, "Pick your blade. And no refusals. I have spoken on this. You have both earned the blade you choose."

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Griz looks to the beautifully crafted blade and held it in his hands. The balance was perfect. The edge was keen. But most of all, the blade felt natural to him. Like an extension of himself. He was left gobstruck. He'd never expected to be worthy enough for another blade after mishandling his older one against that orc months ago...yet here he was. Brand new blade in hand and being told that refusing was not an option. "I...I'm honored, Koglan. I never expected being able to earn another blade within my life. Ancestors bless your heart." The old goblin hunter says with a grateful tone.

Though before he could hand over his old dagger, he hesitated. The old blade, despite its wear and tear, had served him well for years. The feelings conflicted within him. On one hand, the iron from it may be reused and recycled for future use to the tribe. On the other, it was akin to saying goodbye to an old friend. But the need of the tribe outweighed his selfish want. He gives the old weapon a sad but accepting look and says one final thank you before handing it over to the goblin smith. "May the iron be well used to the tribe."
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"I would never think to refuse such a wonderful gift! Thank you, thank you! Fine iron. Like the kind the chief uses. It's better than I deserve, but I promise to but it to good use." Breden's mind raced with the possibilities. He reached out to his blade and firmly grasped it. To a human, it would be a long dagger, but for a goblin, this was basically a multipurpose sword. It was perfect for skinning animals, self-defense, hacking through dense foliage, cutting up meat, and to a lesser extent, impressing the ladies with perceived martial prowess.

He noticed that Griz was handing over his old blade. "Oh, Griz. I know that old dagger means a lot to you, but having two blades means that some goblin who needs a knife or something like that won't have one, and your new weapon is so much better. Kog will make sure your old one will be put to the best use possible. Thank you again, Koglan."
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Nearly a month had passed since the old goblin smith had given Griz and Breden their gifts.

Griz would become easily used to the blade. He would go even so far as to claim that Koglan had outdone himself with the craftsmanship of the dagger. May it be harvesting fruits and berries to piercing the skulls of boars or giant frogs, the blade performed exceptionally well. Though the true test of the blade was soon to come. One of the hunters spotted a rival tribe's scouting party dangerously deep within their borders. The Shaman and the Chief suspected that they were prodding their defenses and looking for weaknesses they could exploit.

A telltale sign that they were about to be beset by a raid within the next handful of days.

It was understandable. The cold season would be upon them soon and nature's bounties will not be enough for those who did not prepare accordingly. And as it would seem, their foes are getting desperate to procure those supplies. Though they would be fools to assume that they would be letting this happen lying down.

They needed to bolster their defenses and prepare themselves as best as they could.
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It was nearly time for Siwa to give birth to her litter. By now, she was in no shape to dance, let alone farm or gather food. It was all she could do to get food from the granary and Koglan. Fortunately, a mother goblin so obviously swollen with a litter was treated quite well by most of the other goblins, at least when it came to courtesy. All of them knew that their survival as a tribe and the survival of goblins as a species depended on a high birth rate, given that they had little else going for them but rapid reproduction when compared to humans, elves, dwarves, even halflings.

As excited as Siwa was at the prospect of becoming a mother, she became more nervous as the possibility of war grew nearer with each day. Even if it was just a raid designed to rob the tribe of its food, the possibility of facing a food shortage as winter set in caused no small amount of fear among every mother of young goblins, who needed much nutrition to survive their fragile first months. It was during these months that Breden visited her, finally growing into the hunter and fighter the tribe needed him to be. In fact, he was already as capable as most warriors of his age; he only needed to prove his might in combat to be accepted as a true warrior. As much as Siwa admired his growing martial prowess, she found his choice of clothing today to be lacking.

"You will take those filthy things off before coming in here, and that's final!"

"They're called footwraps, and they take me a while to take off. I just put a fresh pair on an hour ago and-"

"Save it. A mother has to keep her place clean. Gods knows what you've stepped in already." Sighing, he began to unwrap the cloth from his feet.

"Alright. It's not like I enjoy using them, but it is getting colder out and if we're going to war, there's gonna be a lot of marching in the snow and- never mind." He would have protested her attitude, but he knew that her ill mood was due to the inevitable stresses of pregnancy, and he didn't want to push his luck with her. Breden had been getting a bit more attention from the females lately, but Siwa wasn't among them this past month. Although she had been amorous towards him a few times, Breden had refused her attentions for aesthetic reasons. Simply put, she was too swollen to be attractive, and he knew that there was no point in wasting his energy on trying to impregnate a female who was already in that state.

"So, are you getting enough food?"

"Oh yes. Kog has been very kind to me."

"Good. Now, the chief has asked me and some other goblins to assemble in a few hours. We've been hearing rumors about a raid, and I'm part of a patrol which will stop it if one of the other tribes tries something. If there is a raid, please stay indoors, don't make any noise, and if you are attacked by another tribe, give them what they want, even if it is food. We can always get more food, and it isn't worth risking your family over some grain and fish."

"O-okay. Not like I can do much to defend myself anyway-" she eyed a stone knife she kept in her hut. If she had to use it, she would. "Who else is going to be part of the patrol?"

"Griz, I think. And Gurs, Rom, and about a dozen other guys I don't really know. Really, these things aren't that formal. The chief called us up, but he can't really force us to go if we don't want to."

"Well, do you want to?"

"Honestly, I'd rather be at home. I've got plenty of food and I can always hunt for more. But it's not just about me... mostly."

Siwa gave him a little smile. "Ladies love a war hero, don't they?"

"Yes." She put a hand on his chest, feeling the muscles there.

"Don't worry, I'm sure you'll make a lot of females very happy when this is all over."
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Despite him starting early in the morning, it was disheartening to see fewer and fewer places to forage as the unforgiving cold of winter began creeping in. Griz had just returned with a small sack full of berries and edible flowers he had gathered. Not much to contribute to the village's granary but it was always better than nothing.

It was around the same time that a small stocky goblin had called out to him, covered head to toe with ramshackle pieces of bark. "Griz! Where have you been? It's almost time for us to begin patrols." The stocky goblin sees the meager bag of foraged goods and the rather disappointed look on the other goblin's face. "Don't feel too bad, Griz. It's like what the shaman says: 'Nature is just resting after three seasons of providing blessings.' It's out of our hands."

Griz could only sigh and nod to the consoling words of the stockier goblin. "I know but...yeah. Completely out of our control." He sighs. "I'll be in the gathering point in a short while. Ancestors guide you, Rom."

The stocky goblin replied with his own well-wishes before leaving. Griz on the other hand had to prepare for the patrol. Gods know only what they could encounter in the forest and, Griz knew that if they were to encounter the goblins of the rival tribe, some of them may not be coming home tonight...
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"I-I suppose I will. Now, I've got to get going-!" He gave Siwa a little hug and excused himself and ran off to the assembly point where he was supposed to meet with the other warriors on the patrol.

Breden saw Griz waiting alongside several other male goblins. Not everyone was there, but this was to be expected. Goblins weren't much for following orders, and they tended to interpret anything but a direct order from their chief how they wanted to. A goblin given the task to harvest the grain might very well spend half the allotted time working in the fields, and the other half napping, eating, or having some fun with a pretty female in the hay. Wise goblin leaders accounted for this and assigned more goblins to a given task than was needed, knowing that many of them might not do what was expected of them.

"Oh, Griz. I-I suppose this is it? I don't think we're getting any more than 5,6, plus me, 7 in total?"
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The days had gone by, and Koglan had worked. And helped Siwa during her pregnancy as best he could.

But it's the news of another Goblin tribe, another clan, some chief getting ideas. Koglan didn't like to admit it, but in his years, he'd seen the tribe come into more then one single raid.

So upon hearing the news of a potential raid he put the word out, his stock pile of weapons, armor and other items would be open to those who had a need of them. His smithy went from mostly empty to having several shelves and armor stands. Coats of goblin mail, several heart plates, helmets fitted to a standard size, armored greaves for those who might want it.

Koglan had worked on, much to his own detriment perhaps, making extra weapons. A few swords already in the making, axes, maces. He would make sure their hunters and warriors are well cared for.

--------------

So it is on the day of the assembly to head out into the forest, another goblin arrives. Koglan striding up to the meeting place, wearing his smiths robes. He sighs, "I may hold you up...but I want to help." He reaches under his robe and draws a pair of hammers, "I will help." He nods, "I have spoken on this."
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The assembled crowd of goblins didn't quite know what to think about Koglan's proclamation. After a moment, Gurs, the dark-green skinned one, spoke up.

"Really? 'I have spoken on this?' Who does he think he is, the chief?" Breden stepped between Gurs and Koglan, coming to the defense of the latter.

"It's just his way of speaking, Gurs. He doesn't mean anything by it. Kog's actually one of the humblest goblins I know, and he wouldn't think to overstep any boundaries. And you'd do well to remember how important his smithing work is, so unless you want to fight with sticks and stones, you'd better show him some respect!"

"Uh huh. I won't tell any male he can't come on this patrol-"

"No one put you in charge!" One of the other males exclaimed, only for Gurs to ignore him. "- but I'm not gonna go out of my way to keep you safe if you slow us down, so try to keep up, old timer!"

"Who is leading us on this patrol?" one of the males asked.

"Uh... Griz, I think. No one was assigned to lead by the chief, but Griz has more experience than any of us, so I'll follow his lead." Breden remarked.
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"I hoped for more but 7 should be enough." Griz said just as the village's resident blacksmith had made himself known and expressed his desire to help in the patrol. Griz, for one, was glad that even despite the smith's advanced age, good ol' Koglan still had a fire that burned as hot as his forge inside of him.

Sadly enough, not everyone was happy to have Koglan in the patrol.

It seemed that the village's tryhard was not having any of the 'antics' of the elder goblin. Griz was about to intervene when Breden defended the old smith without a second thought. The simple act done by Breded spoke volumes of how much he had grown over the past season. From the shy mild mannered goblin hunter that could barely hunt a deer, to current Breden.

The confident goblin hunter-warrior that stood before Gurs. A warrior nearly a year older than he was.

Gurs clicked his tongue with irritation after Breden's defense and suggestion that the senior hunter be the one to lead the patrol group. He was almost sure that if he acted all tough and in charge, the rest would just follow him. But he didn't expect that Breden, of all goblins, to be the one to go act up against him. Regardless, his plan failed and he there was nothing else for him to do but gripe. "Fine, but if the old codger dies, I'm telling the chief that it's everyone's fault but mine." Gurs finishes as he intentionally bumps into Breden and glancing to Griz and muttering the word 'freak' under his he walks back to position.

Griz, not letting Gurs' actions dissuade him, began explaining that they would be beginning their patrol by securing that there were any traces of the rival tribe's presence in the village's immediate perimeter. Then afterward they would begin following the patrol route proper. From the hunting and foraging grounds in the immediate area, up to the tribal borders. They would be sweeping the area for any sign or clues, and hopefully this would be a peaceful patrol.

But fate rarely cared to follow plans.
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"Let's go then. I have no idea which tribe we might be dealing with. There's several of them, and we don't really get along with any of them" Breden explained, trying to calm himself more than to tell the others what they likely already knew. "A-anyone think it's the Rockbiters? The Mountain Tribe? Maybe the Blue Feet?" Their own tribe was known as the "forest tribe" or the "forest goblins." Unlike most races, goblins didn't take much stock in naming their settlements or tribes, and generally accepted names given to them by outsiders, who usually based the names on what the goblins looked like or where they lived.

A couple of hours later saw none of those tribes infringing on their territory, but they still had a long way to go. "So, Griz. Do you know much about our rivals? I heard you fought the Mountain tribe a long time ago. Is it true that they have gray skin?" Most goblins were green, so a tribe of another color couldn't help but to stand out. Breden looked up at the sky. He could tell that they had been walking for a while. Such a trip would have been hard on his feet as little as three or four months ago, but he could barely feel it. Then again, they had been marching over mostly soft grass, not the harsher forest they would have to enter soon to continue the patrol.
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Griz shrugged at the suggestion of what tribe were acting as their aggressors but judging from the report from the hunter that spotted the scouting party, it was very likely the Blue Feet Tribe. The hunter reported the sighting to the North West of the village and noted that they had accessories made from fish bones and shells. Griz guessed that something spooked them off from the river as, even in previous years, the Blue Feet Tribe would have just kept fishing in the river as usual and ignore the other nearby tribes. But their tribe and the Blue Feet Tribe never really got along well as Breden mentioned, so it did not surprise Griz much when the hunter reported the incident.

Their patrol was, thankfully, uneventful for the time being, but Griz kept his guard up. No matter how peaceful it may seem, things could change at a drop of a hat. And nobody knew if or when it would happen. Though that didn't mean he couldn't spare some of his time with some idle chitchat. "Yeah, the Mountain Tribe's goblins had grey skin but they also had goblins with brown and some even orange. Not only that, they were tougher than any goblin I've ever fought. They weren't very smart but they were stupid strong." Griz said as he remembered the incident that sparked the conflict.

One of the tribe's allies, the Hilltop Tribe, had recently been run out of some of their territories by the encroaching Mountian Tribe. The chief didn't want to break a generations-old pact between the two tribes and sent over a hundred goblins as support. The fighting lasted for months but with the combined power of both tribes, they defeated and repelled the Mountain Tribe with acceptable amounts of casualties. Though in Griz's opinion? The death of his mentor and long time friend wasn't an acceptable loss at the time. Though as he got older, he gradually came to terms with his death. But remembering him caused the older hunter to fall silent out of respect and remnants of loss.

Gurs, on the other hand, clicked his tongue in disinterest from the older goblin's answer to Breden. They didn't sound so tough. Maybe because Griz used that dinky looking dagger instead of something cool and dangerous like his spear, those mountain chumps seemed to be tough. He smiled to himself broadly as he imagined himself felling a huge grey-skinned mountain goblin with a single spear thrust and bathing in the glory that followed. Being hailed as a hero of the tribe, getting the prestige he rightfully deserved, his choice of any fertile female in the tribe, and being recognized as the next in line of being chief of the tribe.

He was brought back to reality by Rom snatching the goblin away from a tree trunk he was about to walk into while daydreaming. "Gurs, for the Ancestors' sake. Get your head out of the clouds and back on your shoulders." Just as he finished scolding the young warrior, a looming figure stumbled out of the woods.

A massive owlbear plodded slowly into view.
It seemed rather old but dangerous nonetheless.
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Koglan smiles looking at Gurs, "Ah, I see. Gurs, I remember you. I remember the iron I forged for you too." He pulls up the short sleeve of his robe, and points to a scar on his arm, "I recieved this one, etching the runes into your breastplate." He lifts his hand and shows a healed shattered index finger, "And I hit this while making your weapon." He smiles, "I remember much of the iron and steel I forge for this village Gurs. It'd be a pity if it went untended if it were to break. And who will repair your iron if it bends or breaks?" He smiles and leans into Gur's face, "I will." He turns then and assumes a place in the back of the group, "I shall be here. But I will stand at your shoulders none the less."

And so it was that the old goblin paced along at the back of the pack. Listening to the chatting going on. Repeatedly he would turn to look back over the path they walked, just to make sure they were not being followed. Old habits from his time as a Warrior long ago, rusty but still able.

After sometime he spoke up, "There are stories of a time when all these tribes, were one great tribe. Ask the Great Elders and the old Shaman about it some time. We were feared once. The high Goblin Clan. What it would have been like to have been a Goblin then."

He turns in time to see Gurs as he day dreams almost walk into a tree. The old Goblin says nothing. Not needing too a good warrior would fix his own folly.

He is just turning around again when he feels it in the earth at his feet. He looks up his eyes going round as the owlbear thunders out of forest, "Great Ancestors, Mentors of the Forge, Elders of the Past...watch over us." He sets his hands to the pair of warhammers at his hip, "Run or stand." He growls. He looks around at the younger goblins, "Run or stand!" He hisses a little more urgently. Owlbears can be dangerous after all. And only in the stories has a goblin, human, orc or elf ever really talked an Owlbear down.

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Breden drew his sword and stood his ground, the feeling of iron in his hand giving him a level of confidence he would never had possessed a few months ago.

"W-what's an owlbear doing here?" Breden pointed his sword in the direction of the owlbear, which let out a strange sound, half a hoot, half a roar. One of the other goblins in the patrol answered Breden, although he didn't take his eyes off of the owlbear for a second.

"They sometimes get too close to the village when they can't get enough food from hunting. We've seen them eating from our fields before, but usually at night. It's rare for them to be so bold as to try this in the day. It must be starving."

"Maybe we don't have to kill-" the owlbear charged at the goblins, ending any question as to what they should do. "Alright then, if that's how it has to-" the owlbear slashed at Gurs, although its claws were unable to penetrate the crude iron breastplate he was wearing. In truth, it was little more than a rectangular sheet of metal hung from leather straps. It would be considered little more than scraps by human standards, but it did the job, giving Gurs let another reason to be grateful for the old smith's skills.

Breden slashed at the owlbear, inflicting a long cut onto its flank, causing it to leap back in pain, shedding a bit of fur and feathers in the process.
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Gurs was tossed aside easily by the monstrosity.

Despite the metallic plate doing its job in keeping the goblin's insides inside, the power that was behind the swipe was simply tremendous. The young warrior was sent a good distance away. And if the swiping blow of the owlbear wasn't enough, his body crashed against the trunk of a dead tree with enough residual force to break away chunks of bark off the wood. He desperately gasped for air on the ground while the owlbear reared its face towards him...but just as the starving beast was about to charge. It had a taste of Breden's swordplay. Redirecting the beast's enmity towards the group instead of the fallen goblin warrior.

Koglan let out a quick prayer to the Ancestors and a war cry to inspire the patrol group. While the majority of the patrol group raised arms and roared praise to the Ancestors in response. Two of the more inexperienced goblins turned tail and made a beeline back to the village. Embarrassed as they may be from running away, it was still better than taking their chances against the starved beast.

"Ancestors guide us!" Rom bellowed before raising his club with both hands and slamming it against the owlbear's face. Causing a small chunk of its beak to be sent flying. The other goblins shot arrows and used their spears to keep the beast at bay. Griz, on the other hand, had chosen to retrieve their arrogant goblin and help him get back into formation.

Gurs had just stood up with the help of his spear, even then his legs were shaking from both shock and fear. Glancing down to the three newly formed rents against his breastplate, a chill ran down his back when he imagined how close he was to being eviscerated. He felt sick to the core. He'd never fought something like this before. Ancestor's sake, he had only experience with wolves and training duels! A million ideas ran to and fro inside his mind, but the most prominent of which was: 'I wanna go home.'

He didn't even realize Griz had been yelling at him. "Get a hold of yourself!" The hunter slapped the young warrior to reality. "Stop gawking at yourself like a youngling and get back to the group! Go! Go! Go!" Shoving and even kicking the young goblin running back to the group.

The owlbear however was no longer going on the defensive. Knocking Breden down with the back of its paw as it swiped aside the spears while the archers were re-nocking another volley of arrows. Following up with a tackle that sends Rom flying back and crashing into the back row archers. But before the beast could continue it's charge and possibly hit Koglan, Griz let loose an arrow into the creature's eye. Causing it to rear onto its back legs as it blindly swiped against the air in front of its face, trying to dislodge the arrow.

"Attack! Fall the beast!" Griz roared out a command.
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