E.M. Dash Web Novels
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Chapter 027 Adventurers Are Worse Than Goblins
🕑 Added 2025-07-25 19:02:00 +0000 UTCDay 3. Saturday 4:55pm.
As Jack waited for the negative effects of the adrenaline rush to fade, he wrote about his first goblin fight. The action of putting pen to paper calmed his mind, though not quite enough to stop his hands from shaking as he wrote.
Unexpected Encounter With a Goblin
Location: Forest clearing outside Lundun
Duration: Under two minutes
Weapon: White oak bow with quiver of cheap arrows
Goblin emerged from the forest approximately fifty feet away.
It attacked with a rusty shortsword.
The first arrow missed due to not taking the time to aim.
Fumbled nocking an arrow. Recovered fast.
At approximately thirty feet, hit the goblin in the left shoulder with an arrow empowered by True Aim at level 0.
Most likely would have missed without True Aim.
Penetration good.
Despite the 28% increase in speed/power, the damage wasn’t significant.
The goblin stumbled, but barely slowed and continued to attack.
At around ten feet, I hit the goblin in the chest with an arrow.
Aimed for the heart. Hit the left lung, which had a significant impact on the fight.
Erratic breathing, coughing up blood, and slowing the goblin down.
Given time, the injury would have been fatal.
Damage plus the goblin’s hesitation allowed time to create distance to release a third arrow, which caused a large gash in its head.
Goblin was still not down! In hindsight, another chest shot would have been safer.
Required hand-to-hand combat. Blocked two wild sword strikes before kicking the creature in the chest.
As it rolled on the floor, I jumped on it and stabbed it repeatedly in the back with the dagger.
Felt a strange wave of power. What is it?
Adrenaline reversal left me with fatigue, shakes, and muscle weakness.
Observations
While practising, always keep at least six arrows in the quiver.
Buy a full quiver of arrows.
Try to keep calm to limit the negative side effects of adrenaline.
Consider researching calming techniques to control panic.
Nocking and releasing two arrows was achievable; three or more was difficult.
Consider higher-quality arrows.
Consider armour. I was fortunate not to be injured.
Consider carrying a variety of spell scrolls; a single fireball or frost breath scroll would have killed the goblin. A chronos sphere scroll would have made the melee part of the fight far less dangerous. Survival is more important than coin.
He did not embellish his notes with emotion; the record was factual. It was important that he remembered every detail while the lesson was fresh. The incident reminded him that even in a controlled practice session, danger could arise without warning. He was one mistake away from having his fate decided by Thanatos.
By the time he’d finished memorising and destroying the note, he was over most of the negative after-effects of the adrenaline rush. Jack stood and refilled his quiver. He was down to only ten arrows. He slung his bow over his shoulder and prepared to depart.
The clearing was peaceful again, with the sporadic rustle of leaves and distant bird calls to accompany him. The encounter with the goblin was a stark interruption. A reminder that the wilds outside Lundun were not as innocent as the quiet meadow filled with butterflies and bees might suggest. Yet, for Jack, it was also a confirmation that he was capable. His training, though limited, had prepared him for the unforeseen. His body was healthy and alert, and his mind was clear. He had proven that he could adapt, combining practised technique with the instinct to survive.
“I need to be better prepared for when things go wrong,” Jack nodded his head at his own wise advice. Had the goblin attacked after he’d emptied his quiver—he’d emptied it at least a dozen times while practising—he’d have had no choice but to engage in melee from the very start.
Determined not to let the unexpected event ruin his day, he grabbed his pack and got ready to leave. His focus was refreshed by adrenaline and a new respect for the dangers of the forest. He turned to leave but stopped and looked back at the goblin’s bloody body.
“That right ear’s worth 3 silvers,” Jack muttered. He didn’t like the idea of collecting ears, but it was 3 silvers. He knelt beside the fallen goblin, drew his dagger, and sliced the ear off before wrapping it in a strip from the creature’s ragged clothing.
His actions were interrupted when he heard voices in the distance.
“…hurry up,” a deep male voice came from the part of the forest where the goblin had appeared.
“Slow down,” a young female voice cried. “My leg is still bleeding.”
“It’s just a fucking scratch, stop being a baby,” replied the deep voice. “It’s going to escape if we don’t hurry.”
Jack stored the goblin’s ear in his pack, leaving his pack on the ground by his side. Next, he retrieved the rusty shortsword the goblin had used. Even though it was rusty and dull from a lack of care, it was still a weapon that could kill. He might even be able to sell it for a few silvers, maybe more after he sharpened it. Looking at the poor state of the blade, he thought of Ben, the young swordsman who considered it beneath him to sharpen his own blade. Maybe Ben is a lazy goblin in disguise, he mused as he waited to see who would emerge from the forest.
Soon, a thin, young man with ratty features stepped out from the forest. He wore brown leather armour, a dark cloak, and carried a shortsword, a dagger, and a bow slung over his shoulder.
Probably a rogue, archer, or maybe a thief, Jack thought as he noted the weapons the thin man carried.
Not far behind, a large man of similar age appeared. He was wearing dark leather armour with metal plates and carried a huge greatsword.
Jack gulped when he saw the size of the sword; it was almost seven feet long. He’s presumably still a Novice Warrior, though, he reassured himself as he guessed the man’s age to be under twenty.
Being young, the swordsman was unlikely to have reached level 25. Like the archer class, the warrior class was one of the easiest to level, so there was a small possibility he was an Apprentice Warrior.
The large swordsman paused when he saw Jack, but after scanning the empty clearing, he walked towards him and the dead goblin with confidence. As he came closer with an assured smile, four more young adventurers entered the clearing, each pausing to assess the situation before following the large man who was approaching Jack.
Jack stood still, waiting to see what they’d do. He’d heard of rogue groups killing lone adventurers, so he had no doubt his life was in danger. The laws of the city of Lundun didn’t hold much sway when there were no witnesses.
When the large man stopped about ten feet from Jack, Jack could hear the others talking in hushed voices. He watched them prepare for a battle as the softer classes—mages, healers, ranged specialists—drifted to the rear and the other melee fighter, who carried a sword and shield, moved to the front.
With his greatsword, the large man pointed at the dead goblin at Jack’s feet and in a deep voice said, “Did you kill our prey, young man?”
Jack nodded once. Shit, shit, shit… they look ready to kill me! Although panic rose inside, he tried hard not to show it. I should’ve run. He’d had just enough time to fade back into the forest before the party of adventurers entered the clearing.
The large swordsman noticed the missing ear of the goblin and frowned. “You stole our kill. We attacked and injured it first. You know the rules.” He offered a confident smile. “Hand over the ear… and the blade, and be on your way in peace.”
There was a general rule among adventurers: whichever party engaged and injured a foe first claimed ownership of the spoils. This rule was established to prevent disputes when multiple groups attacked the same monster. The large swordsman was stretching this rule, as it had been over fifteen minutes since they’d caused a minor scratch on the goblin’s cheek.
Jack felt anger rise as he gripped the rusty, blood-soaked shortsword. They were willing to fight over a kill worth well under 10 silvers. He’d fought hard to kill the goblin; it was his kill, it was his loot. “And what if I don’t?” Jack said.
The large swordsman grinned as an arrow landed a few inches from Jack’s right foot. “Take a guess, boy.”
Jack staggered backwards, eyes fixed on the thin, ratty-faced man.
The archer’s self-satisfied grin revealed the gap where his front teeth should’ve been. The toothless rat was already nocking another arrow with practised ease.
Damn it! I can’t win here. Jack scanned the faces of the six adventurers, a silent vow forming in his mind to steer clear of these dangerous adventurers in the future. A lone archer with little experience had no chance of winning a fight against a party of experienced adventurers. Even if they were all novices with only a few years of experience, there were six of them and one of him.
In resignation, he threw the rusty shortsword onto the goblin’s corpse and crouched to retrieve the goblin’s ear from his pack. While he rifled through his pack, he noticed the large man tightening his grip on his greatsword, ready to attack, while the thin man aimed his drawn bow at Jack’s chest.
I think he’s a rogue, Jack thought, as he removed the blood-soaked rag and tossed it onto the goblin’s body. The goblin’s bloody right ear tumbled to the forest floor.
The large swordsman relaxed his grip on his weapon and chuckled. “That’s a good boy. Now fuck off!”
Jack’s eyes narrowed in anger. He longed to draw his dagger and drive it deep into the large man’s filthy, thieving heart. Instead, he forced himself to calm his rage, stepped back, and kept his eyes fixed on the thin man, the rogue, who still had his bow drawn and aimed at his chest.
I’ll remember this, Jack vowed, burning the image of their faces into his mind.
The large swordsman laughed as Jack backed away. “Smart kid.” He turned to the other adventurers in his party, no longer treating Jack as a threat. “See, not everyone we meet is too stupid to take a hint.” His laughter grew louder.
As Jack left the clearing, he heard the adventurers laughing at his expense.
Then he heard the thin rogue speak with a lisp. “I like hith white bow. We should’th taken it…” The toothless rat chuckled. “As payment.”
The large swordsman sighed, “Why didn’t you say so before…”
