Brix, Flick, Pox, Blunder, and Tic

Life and death are one and the same thing within the scent of a forest. So many living, green things, smells of spruce, fir, and pine, blend with the damp, decaying scent of brown things, decaying leaves and old, broken branches that molder away into new dirt. The night sky was resplendent with the shimmering jewels of stars in many colors. Without the moon, they shone bright and vibrant against the darkness that was their mother. They were excited about something happening far below their seats in the heavens and shone more brightly so that they could peer past the canopy of great trees and down into the underbrush bellow.

The trees were great columns that held the heavens apart from the earth and stood sentry in the dark of the forest. Dancing an ethereal ballet among them were two brilliant beams of light. They bobbed and weaved along the hillside and down into the valley below. A majesty went with them, an essence that brought tranquil silence to the numerous, small creatures that gathered to watch them pass. Squirrels, quail, mice, hedgehogs, pheasants and badgers, natural enemies that stood silent and unmoving in their shared knowing that something important traveled through their home.

Beneath the broken mushroom cap of a great toadstool on the opposite hill, a snarling face watched as well. The brigand goblin hunter stood clad in decrepit armor slung with savagely crude weapons. Small as her frame was, she cut a terrifying figure, even when measured against the grotesqueries of her companions. Brix whistled, and for a creature so cruel in countenance, the sound was unexpectedly lovely, like a nightingale’s call.

Further up the hill from where she stood, similar whistles signaled the readiness of four other figures hidden in the shadows. Despite the best attempts of the stars above to warn that kindred light that danced and played below them, their shining only deepened the shadows that masked the danger. Brix lost sight of her quarry for only a moment, when they light was caught in a dew speckled spider’s web and cast back like shards of brilliant silver. It was lovely, almost tranquil, and it made the goblin’s lip curl in a sneer.

Tiny Flick and Tik were indistinguishable in the dark. Their heads were hidden in grotesque masks and their thin bodies decked in ragged bits of cloth clotted with stale moss and earth. A swarm of gnats buzzed about their heads in a constant drone as they crept through the shadows toward Blix.

Blunder and Pox held their positions higher on the hill. They would be the look-outs. Pox was a fop that fashioned his skinny neck with moth-eaten lace and filthy brocade he’d stolen from the bodies of dead elves. He’d later claimed to have killed himself, but Blix knew they had been felled by the forest itself. Blunder wore a birdcage as a helmet, his long nose and ears protruding through its slots. The bars made his toothy grin all the more fearsome.

Those dancing lights grew closer and, silently, Blix signaled the other goblins. Near as one, they crawled through the underbrush of the forest, following the hill side toward their prey. Those dancing lights had come together near the bank of a small pond. Their brilliance shown against the surface of the dark waters, their reflections so bright it cast the forest around them into a silvery blue day. And at their feet, clumps of forget-me-nots glowed like disgarded jewels.

Another silent signal from Blix and the unit came to a stop. Flick snatched a small dagger free from the leather straps that held it against his leg. The small sound made Blix shoot him a glare. “You’ll spook the beasts and spoil the trap.”

Tic pushed his brother down into the dirt next to him and hissed at him. It was not theirs to be greedy. It was a prey they couldn’t hunt with Blix’s leadership. They couldn’t hope to claim the glory of the white stag, or his doe, without her bow. No other goblin had felled a forest spirit before. They couldn’t afford to covet the kill for themselves. When Flick nodded that he understood, Tic released his bother and drew his own knife. Blix would take the beast, and then they would take Blix. Blunder and Pox would never dare to tell anyone Tic and Flick hadn’t made the kill themselves.

Blix had eyes only for the stag, his pregnant doe was not half so fine a trophy. The beast was proud, and he stood tall and watchful while his mate drank from the pool. “This shot be just as sweet as pie,” she said to herself, raising her crossbow to take aim.

From somewhere behind her a shoat squealed in terror and shot through the underbrush. The great stag’s head swung and he saw Blix there, her bow leveled on him. She took her shot, but it was too late. The pair burst into brilliant light and fled into the trees, leaving the goblins blind and groping in the darkness they left behind.

“What happened!?” Blix turned toward the higher part of the hill where Pox was sitting on his haunches and Blunder laughed from the confines of his birdcage helmet. “What did you do!”

“The idiot came nose to nose with a wild piglet,” Blunder was too happy to share. “He squealed louder than the pig!”

“You frog spit,” Pox cursed his accuser, “I did not!”

“Flat-nosed pig face,” Tic and Flick squared to each other to glare up at Pox as one. “You cost us the Stag.”

“Do you have any idea how much harder it is going to be to track them down again?” Blix had gone cold, calm, and the other goblins became silent in the face of her fury. “It could be weeks before they stop again.”

“We’ll find them, Blix,” Flick offered, pulling his brother along with them. “We’ll keep the trail, follow till dawn.”

“Do that,” Blix waved them off and the twins rushed away into darkness to chase the forest spirits’ trail. The spirits were too fast, they’d be miles away already, but it would give them a direction to begin again.

“Where do we go?” Blunder asked her.

“Tween Twin Oaks and the Dragon’s Track.”

“Why there?” Pox had the nerve to voice the question, but not the stone to force and answer when she gave him none. Blunder and Blix ignored him to walk down into the gully and begin up the side of the next hill. “Hey, wait!” the fop was left to bring up the rear, crashing along his clumsiness. “Wait for me!”