Strange Company...

The dark stranger stared intently at his travelling companions, his red robes billowing in the gusty wind that flowed swiftly from the shadowed peaks of the mountains. Their spires stretching seemingly ever upward, it was a foreboding sight to behold. A small path wound its way into the murky distance, upon which several fresh tracks could be clearly made out. Aspen sat on a fallen tree stump, rubbing his head in thought.

"Well," he said, "They certainly came this way. Umm... well... and err... they went that way. Err... well, I think they did anyway..."

His travelling companions looked most unconvinced.

"Look mate," the large barbarian's rather coarse tones rose above the wind, "You're a scout, right? You can read tracks, right? Now I suggest, rather than sitting on that stupid log, you get down on that path and tell us just where we're supposed to be going? Ok?"

The barbarian's eyes shifted slowly towards his gleaming sword and then back to the scout.

"Err... well... you see, I never was very good at this tracking lark really. Err... me, I'm better at smelling things, you know? Like, goblins and that. And I'm really good at dodging things... err... and climbing trees... err..."

A low growling murmur from the barbarian's throat caused Aspen to shudder uneasily as he stared at the tracks. Standing behind the others, the dark stranger's hooded face showed little sign of emotion.

"Now there's no need to get angry Tharg. Let's just talk about..."

Aspen's voice was cut short as the long haired barbarian rose slowly to his feet, hefted his claymore and started along the path.

"You don't want to go that way."

The dark stranger's unemotional voice seemed to cut right through the clamour of the wind.

"And just why is that then, Mr. Mysterious? Just exactly what have you done so far, apart from look sullen, not drink and be downright boring?"

It was no secret that Tharg didn't really think much of the stranger, since he joined them several days ago. He didn't drink, he didn't laugh, he didn't cry, and he didn't even carry any weapons - which to the barbarian was a simply preposterous idea. Travelling the wastelands with no weapons was, in Tharg's eyes, an extremely easy way of getting yourself killed. And what was the honour in a death without a fight?

"Three goblins, an orc and a troll walked in the opposite direction approximately four hours ago. They were carrying about three stones in equipment and they cut off the path into the forest about two miles ahead. One of the goblins has an injured foot, and they smell of rotten meat."

It was clear, precise and totally unemotional, in every sense of the word. Aspen didn't even think he saw the stranger's lips move.

Tharg, as usual, was suitably unimpressed by this information. He simply stopped mid-stride and strode off into the woodlands, ordering the others to follow, "If they weren't too weak and feeble."

Aspen looked bemused, Elise simply grabbed her sword and ran off after Tharg. The dark stranger showed not even the slightest speck of a smile. Yet Barnabus thought somewhere, in the depths of those dark and penetrating eyes, he could sense a slight glimmer of satisfaction.

"Hmmm..." he thought, "I heard a legend like this somewhere. Hmmm... now let me see, when was it..."

Lost in his own musings he tailed along behind the others. The dark stranger eased himself into the forest, blending easily with the reds and yellows of the autumn trees.

It wasn't for some time that the others noticed his disappearance. Progress through the forest was a hard task, even for a battle hardened barbarian, and Tharg was coming to believe that this was little more than a spiteful trick. He was just about to confront the stranger when he noticed.

"Hey, where's that blasted man got to. The stupid, boring fool has probably got himself lost in the bushes, damn it. Why does this always happen to me. Sod it! I'm supposed to be fighting perilous creatures in deadly battle not trudging through an overgrown vegetable garden. Aspen, get over here. Right. Now where are we?"

"Umm... well... a forest?"

The barbarian raised a mighty fist in annoyance.

"Err... well, actually, err... I've got a funny feeling about this..."

"What d'ya mean a funny feeling? Explain yourself, before I wallop you round the head in order to shut you up."

"Well. I think we're kind of being watched. Like from the trees and stuff. I can feel these eyes on me... and... err... well, it doesn't really feel too good. Umm... we should be moving, yes, moving. Come on, let's go, I don't like this one bit!"

Yet even as he said it, the vegetation around them began to part. Long cruelly hooked blades glistened in the slanting half-light, and green eyes stared menacingly at the four companions. Goblinoid figures thrust themselves out of the bushes and down from the tree tops, until they formed a neatly assembled throng. Well, it wasn't really neat, more like a large rabble, but it did manage to completely encircle the four, now rather frightened, figures, or should I say three rather frightened figures and one rather angry barbarian.

"Youze iz comin' wiv uz. Dropz dem pointy fingz an' get on da dirt. Now!"

As the large orc spoke, almost as one the hordes of night goblins began to close in on the compatriots. All manner of evil weapons could be seen within their dirty hands. Some held large cleavers, others cutlasses, others still black hooked knives that dripped with acrid poisons. Tharg began to growl. Most surprisingly, so did Elise. Barnabus looked at her with a rather strange expression. This was a most unexpected occurrence. For all he had seen she was rather mild mannered and sensible, slow to anger and swift to back down when wrong. What had brought this sudden change he wasn't sure, but as far as he could see, it was just about to get them all killed.

All pandemonium broke loose. With a bellowing yell, Tharg leapt into the startled goblins, his claymore splicing two pointed heads neatly at the shoulders. Immediately he wheeled to the right, a quick thrust disembowelling another of the wretched vermin. He was a terror to watch. His long hair billowed in the wind as he hacked into one goblin after another.

Elise's bloodshot eyes glowed crimson red as they scanned the greenskinned horde. She could feel the berserk spirit taking over. Her legs trembled as she tried to withhold the maddening impulses of hate.

"Stand back!" she yelled, "Come no further!" It was a futile effort. The night goblins pressed ever closer, and as Tharg made his move the red mist descended. With a yell of rage she sprang forward. Two curved scimitars flashed into view as she cleaved through flesh and bone alike. With the battle fury pulsing through her veins she felt like a beast unleashed. Nothing could withstand her rage. Time and again the goblins' evil weapons struck her rippling muscles. Time and again she shrugged them off and battled on.

The dark stranger peered at them from the shadows. The big barbarian and the psychopathic woman were fighting valiantly, but their crude techniques were leaving them open to all sorts of attack. The goblins had them totally outnumbered and were closing in for the kill. The scout and the bard had seemingly disappeared - hiding in the trees most likely.

He formed the flame within his mind. All his hate, all his anger, all his stress and strains and distracting emotions were poured into the fire. Within seconds he felt himself drop into Ko-Di. His body and soul were one; no emotion, no feelings, just a ruthless weapon of destruction.

Dropping silently from the tree he advanced on the ruckus ahead. Suddenly he sprang, a coiled snake pouncing into action. Two silver daggers appeared like lightning within his hands. Two goblins died before they even knew what had hit them. Whirling, he parried another's blow before plunging his dagger into the greenskinned chest. From one position to another he flowed, a deadly serpent of vengeance. Bolts of fire erupted from his outstretched palm as he danced the ritual of the Mantis.

Within minutes the fighting was over. Burning goblins were fleeing amongst the trees and countless more lay dead beneath them. Tharg and Elise hobbled between one corpse and the next, claiming anything they could of value, whilst Barnabus tried vainly to heal their bloodied wounds. Aspen stared at the carnage and then at the dark stranger. A cold shiver ran down his spine as the stranger turned away.

"Name..." Aspen called. The stranger stopped and turned. Aspen could almost feel his indomitable gaze piercing his very skull.

"Err... your name? Friend?"

"I am Galen. That is all."

Then with a swift turn he headed into the forest...