The short, human-like figure before was definitely not human.
If the thin, skinny arms and feet could still be mistaken for those of a malnourished child, and the crooked posture was yet within the realm of reason, the oversized pointy head, the large ears hanging from its sides, the enormous crooked nose, and the red, glowing eyes left no farther doubt in my mind.
Ragged straps of fabric hanging from its waist, rotten leather boots ridden with holes and one missing its sole, and a large wooden club in its hand.
While I could barely see the color of the creature's skin, for so reason, I had no doubt it'd be dark green.
I was never into classic fantasy, but even I recognized one of its staples.
'Is that... a goblin?'
While I was standing there, each muscle stiff, the goblin turned its head toward , and opened its mouth.
"SKREEE!"
A loud shriek reverberated off of the stone walls, putting an abrupt stop to my thoughts.
The goblin gripped its club with both hands, drops of saliva spraying from its gaping mouth and reflecting the dim blue light coming from outside.
The red glow of its corneas seed to glimr brighter, and with a wild expression, full of bloodlust and excitent, it rushed, club raised high – straight towards .
At that mont, fear clashed with the most fundantal instinct any living creature has – survival.
With nowhere to run, and my back against the literal cave wall, my mind suddenly beca clear.
Everything in my vision disappeared, except for the goblin, charging at as if in slow motion, and the sword, still raised in the sa stance.
As the goblin grew closer, I raised my sword, in a motion seemingly ingrained in my muscles, and-
swooosh
The sword slashed towards the goblin’s chest, which had just entered its reach.
A few droplets of blood sprayed onto the dark stone wall, and a piece of flesh flew into the air.
That was the tip of the goblin’s ear, who ducked underneath my swing!
A fraction of a heartbeat later, his club was already swinging at , in turn.
thud
The impact of the blunt force hitting my left knee, making it buckle.
Combined with the montum of my missed swing, I stumbled, barely keeping myself from falling flat to the ground.
In the next mont, I saw the goblin preparing to swing its club once more.
The world slowed down – or, rather, the gears in my mind went into overdrive.
My sword, still gripped with both hands, has just completed its arc – there was no way I could build enough montum to swing it again before the club's next strike.
Within the next fraction of a second, driven by instinct more than coherent thought, I made a decision.
As the goblin fully brought his club back, ready for its next swing, my right hand, forrly gripping the sword hilt, was already mid motion.
My arm’s length was just enough for my fist to reach the creature's face.
crack!
The punch landed straight on the goblin’s nose, bending it even farther in the process.
It stumbled backwards montarily, clearly disoriented.
In an instant, my hand was back on the hilt.
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Rather than raising it for another slash, I brought it upwards and forward – straight into the goblins chest!
There was barely any resistance – despite the strength of its previous strike, the goblin itself was anything but tough.
As if cutting through thin leather, the cold steel pierced through skin and flesh, making its way through the gaps in the goblin's rib cage.
It was sent down to the floor, in a fountain of blood and pus.
A gurgling screech escaped the creature's throat, whose lungs could no longer produce a proper sound.
After a few more gurgles and twitches, it finally stopped moving, as the rancid stench of blood and entrails finally registered within my mind.
Silence has returned to the cave.
drip. drip.
No, not complete silence.
I lowered my gaze, to see the blood slowly dripping from the tip of the sword, still held tight in my slightly shaking hands.
A wave of exhaustion washed over . Not my (presumably ‘my’) body, which apparently still held plenty of vitality, but my mind.
I slowly sat back down, and leaned against the cold wall, not even bothering to move farther away from the corpse.
Slowly, my mind gears were grinding back into motion. The stream of questions felt like a mighty river, about to burst through the dam and flood everything beyond.
'Why am I here? What is this?'
One thing was clear. As much as I wanted to believe otherwise, everything so far was far too lucid to be a dream. The pain, flaring up near my left knee, was the last straw that made shred that final glimr of hope.
'One thing is certain. I can't stay here.'
If this wasn't a dream, then finding the way out of those caves was the first thing on my mind. After all, if there were more of those goblins, there was no guarantee they wouldn't show up, especially after that loud screech.
Pushing aside the pain and the nausea, I stood up, and with unsteady steps, began making my way towards the opening.
Suddenly, I noticed a strange square shape leaned on near the cave wall, which didn't look like a boulder.
After a mont of hesitation, I made my way closer. Before , I could clearly see the outlines of what appeared to be a large backpack.
On the ground near the backpack, I noticed scraps of so kind. Leaning closer, I could faintly sll the scent of dried at. It looked as if soone dropped this strip of jerky on the ground after taking a few bites.
At that mont, my stomach growled. An intense wave of hunger suddenly rose up, filling my mouth with saliva.
Throwing another glance at the jerky on the ground, I approached the backpack.
It was large. To the touch, it seed to be made of so fabric, held together by a few straps of leather.
Without wasting any more ti, I began searching through its compartnts, keeping an ear out for any strange noises.
Inside the main compartnt, I could clearly feel the rough texture of a rope, so stones (‘could those be flint stones? Or sharpening stones?’), and sothing that felt like a few smaller sacks, filled with different items I wouldn't be able to make out without searching the bag properly.
One thing I found seed to be a few strips that felt like cloth fabric.
Taking out one of the strips, I cleaned the blood off my sword, the stench of which had been tornting my nostrils up until now.
I threw the stained strip away, and opened the second compartnt.
The familiar sll of jerky nearly brought tears of joy to my eyes.
Without wasting a second, I put the sword down, and took out the small sack of dried at, as well as the water skin which was conveniently perched beside it.
My teeth sank into the chewy texture, its taste way better than it had any right to be.
Within less than a minute, half the sack, as well as half the water skin, were empty. Only when feeling their now diminished weight did I realize I should probably leave the rest of it, just in case.
Putting the remaining provisions back into the backpack, I picked it up and put it on my back. A bit cumberso, but it didn't slow down by much, and didn't feel too heavy.
While doing so, I also noticed a strap made of leather on my back, which, judging by the smaller horizontal straps near its top, was probably used to hold my sword.
Of course, I didn't even consider sheathing my sword in the current situation. Wait, sheathing... did this sword have a sheath?
I considered searching the cave a little more - perhaps the sheath was thrown sowhere on the ground, like the jerky - but decided against it.
I have already wasted enough ti with the food and backpack, and searching for anything in this darkness could take way more ti than I'd be willing to spend.
Picking up my sword, I made my way towards the exit, and finally set foot into the connected tunnel.
The tunnel was much more cramped compared to the previous cave – two ters wide at most, and barely tall enough for to stand.
Its rocky outline, reflecting the dim blue light coming from the sparse glowing moss on its slightly curved walls, continued onward in a single direction.
With nothing but a rancid corpse and a dead end behind , I gripped my sword, and slowly continued onward.
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