Chapter 22: Gotta Know When To Shank ‘Em, Know When To Trap ‘Em, Know When To Sneak Away, Know When To Run (Patreon)

Welcome to 2025! This chapter title really got away from me, but I'm keeping it!

Alternative author's note: My 2025 new year's resolution: longer chapter titles

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The gnolls had, predictably, sent a patrol to recover their wayward goblin, on the off chance that he’d survived. It wouldn't do to let the other prisoners think that the river was a viable means of escape, after all.

The goblins’ plan had been to ambush the search party. Izzy had everyone set up on a bank, much like at their latest ambush — even Stick, who hadn't liked the idea at all. They were ready and raring to go when Mash suddenly had a minor conniption and told Izzy in no uncertain terms that they were not going to be fighting the Level 13 Raid Leader and “Level gods-damn 21” Shaman leading the group. 

“Oh, dung!” Izzy whispered as she motioned, then pulled the others away and deeper into the forest. “Why is there a big shot after you, Stick?”

“Potions, probably,” he whispered back as they snuck through the undergrowth. “Ragsha, the Shaman, he can kind of make them, but he’s terrible at it. They’ve been making me do it for them.”

Before Izzy could answer Caj dropped from above, braking hard and moving into a backwards flitter in front of them, saying, “I dunno what you're saying, but shut your gobs! There’s more of them around!”

The fairy had been flying high, keeping an eye on the forest around them. At his words Izzy immediately told the others to keep quiet, even though she and Stick had been the only ones talking.

“They're proper searching, all spread out,” Caj continued. “If we’re quiet we can maybe take one and slip past ‘em.”

“I can keep them quiet, if you hold them still,” Stick said after Izzy relayed what Caj had said.

“How you do that?” Squirrel chittered at him.

“Death Magic. I have a choking Spell.”

There was some quiet, appreciative Oooing at that. Good, that’s very good! Mash said, and Izzy nodded.

“All right,” Izzy said. “Here's what we'll do…”

  *

The right location was half of a successful ambush. Every goblin knew that by instinct. Without a location appropriate to the tools you had available, you might as well jump down your own spike pit and spare everyone the trouble.

The location Izzy chose, with the help of Caj and Mash, had two things to recommend it: first, that it was a gully, deep enough to cut a gnoll’s line of sight to its companions but not wide enough to justify two searchers; and second, it had some nice, loose but leafy bushes round the middle, where the goblins could hide.

As long as only one gnoll went into the gully, everything should go off without a hitch. If none came, all the better; they’d just sneak through and be past the line of gnolls, with no one any the wiser. If two came in… dealing with that quietly would be tricky, but probably doable. They’d figure something out if it happened.

Everything looked good. As the goblins crowded together in the bushes, Mash hung in the air above them, as high as she could go, keeping an eye on the approaching gnolls. There was a female about a hundred feet to the right, a male sixty feet to the left, and a second male heading straight down the middle.

The gnoll stepped into the gully. He wasn’t stupid; he stopped, looked, and sniffed the air. But Izzy was between him and the others, using Air Magic to create a gentle wind that carried the smell of goblin away from him. Satisfied that he wasn’t about to get ambushed, the gnoll walked right into their ambush.

Gnolls were a lot bigger, and individually stronger, than goblins. That didn’t mean much for this particular male when five furious pale green runts dogpiled him, pinning him down and shanking him furiously as a Witch cast some Death Magic on him, closing his throat so he couldn’t scream. It was brutal, effective, and exactly how Izzy wanted it to go.

The moment the gnoll stopped struggling, Izzy sent the goblins scurrying toward the end of the gully the gnoll had come from. They were just about home free when Mash squeaked, which felt like how a headache sounds, and Izzy found herself face to face with a very large, very surprised, and very angry gnoll female. They looked at each other, each took a deep breath, and at the same time as Izzy screamed, “Get ‘er!” the gnoll roared, “Goblins!”

Three things happened very quickly. Caj smacked into the gnoll’s face, right between the eyebrows, carrying a large — for him — stone. Stick cast his choking magic on her, which must have really taken it out of him, because he was panting afterward. And Izzy cast Rising Wind, hard enough that it sent the gnoll rising into the treetops.

A cackling howl went up from the surrounding forest, and the goblins ran. There was a crash and a pained yelp from behind as Izzy stopped channeling her spell. Only a few seconds in, it became obvious that Stick, skinny, abused, and worn out from casting as he was, couldn’t keep up. Izzy didn’t even have to say anything — Crack picked the Witch up in his arms and ran, and the extra burden didn’t slow the big goblin in the least.

“Damn, damn, damn, damn—” Izzy cursed with every step as they fled. She needed to figure out a way to shake the gnolls, and fast, but they were faster than the goblins, and they were closing in.

“What do we have to work with?” she asked Mash, thinking out loud. “We’re sneakier, I have half my gourd full…”

“I have a little left,” Stick said weakly, clinging on to Crack’s neck for dear life as the scrum leaped over a brook. “Could blind someone for a bit. Maybe make them throw up. That’s it.”

“Better than nothing! What else…”

Ask the Crafters!

“Right! Twitch! Buttercup! Any foot-biters or anything?”

Buttercup waved a bag in the air. “Got some here!”

“Good! Twitch?”

“Nah! Lotsa itchy powder, though!”

“Idiot, what’s thatta do?” Buttercup sneered, and Twitch managed the impressive feat of blowing a raspberry at his fellow Crafter while running for his life.

“Gimme the caltrops and the powder!” Izzy snapped. She was, not entirely seriously, wondering if tripping Buttercup would slow down the gnolls enough for the rest of them to get away. Her musings became a touch more serious when the Crafter simply lobbed his bag over his shoulder, while Twitch at least slowed down to hand his over.

“Leaf packets inna bag,” Twitch said, opening the drawstring before giving the bag to Izzy.

Caj could carry those! Mash said excitedly.

“Oh, yeah! Caj! You wanna be a hero?” Mash called in Fairy, and it only took a moment for the little glory hound to zip in.

“Whatcha need?”

“Here!” Izzy held up the open bag in one hand, carrying the caltrops in the other. “Take one, dump it in someone’s nose, then do it again!”

In answer she got a “Feckin’ aye!” followed by a high-pitched cackle, as Caj grabbed one of the fist-sized leaf packets and disappeared behind her. It only took a few moments before the angry sounds of pursuit were joined by new, interesting, angry sounds of someone getting a face full of itching powder. Then Caj came back and did it again, and again.

The fourth time there was a crack of thunder from close behind, and the noise of a tree splintering. Caj zoomed past Izzy, shouting, “Feck this, feck you, they got fecking lightning!”

The Shaman was closing in, and he was mad.

Caj had annoyed some of the gnolls, but that wasn’t nearly enough. Fumbling with the bag of caltrops, Izzy scattered the nasty things behind her, hoping that the ground cover would be enough to cover them, and was soon rewarded with pained yelps and cackles filled with schadenfreude from those whose paws had been spared. It still wasn’t enough. She could hear crashing from behind, and increasingly from the sides. They were getting hemmed in, and she needed to do something.

The only thing the goblins really had going for them in a situation like this was their size. They could easily fit into places that would give larger people trouble and could squeeze in where others wouldn’t even bother trying. That included things like crawling under bushes and brambles, but Bramble Growth wouldn’t do much good unless she used it in a choke point; the gnolls would just go around.

So, they needed a cave or a crevice or something like that — something she could block off and slow the gnolls down until her goblins got out the other side. But they were nowhere close to any cliffs or even big rock formations that she knew of, and something like a badger den might only have one entrance. She kept racking her brain until Mash spoke up, breaking her concentration.

Up ahead! That stream, follow it north! Ah, to the left, I mean. I know this place from before!

Izzy didn’t question it. “Follow the water left!” she barked at the others, and they did, veering sharply after they’d splashed through the quick, shallow water. Their pursuers quickly started shouting — “They’re in the water,” “Left at the stream,” and things like that. They were now running toward some of the gnolls; fighting was inevitable.

Running through water was slower than running on solid ground; Izzy spent some of her mana on a quick Bramble Growth behind her, right between the stream and a tree. Nothing very big, just enough to force anyone behind them to crash through, go right around the tree, or left through the water — all choices that would slow a pursuer at least a little. There was a splash or two, but based on the roar of, “Clear me a way!” followed by pained yipping and the snapping of vines, the Shaman had chosen the first route.

The first gnoll they met crashed out of some bushes, took one springing step in the water, and crashed into the opposite bank, yipping and wiping at her eyes — Stick had blinded her before slumping in Crash’s arms, completely spent, his head lolling. The next tried to leap at Howl, all the way across the stream where it narrowed, but Izzy cast a powerful Rising Wind beneath him, and he flew over their heads, flailing and wailing, crashing hard into a tree.

Izzy quickly checked her mana gourd and found it a quarter full. She couldn’t afford to waste any, so the third gnoll to sprint at them, splashing out of the water right ahead of the two Huntresses at the front, got a lesson in quantity versus quality. Or quantity against whatever he was; the lower-level gnolls weren’t particularly impressive. Izzy screamed, “Shank ‘im!” and Squirrel and Howl leapt at the gnoll, quickly followed by Twitch and Buttercup. The gnoll went down with a storm of despairing curses, under a flurry of stabs and slashes; Crash and Izzy didn’t even slow down as the first four picked themselves up, not bothering to finish off the writhing fuzzbutt.

Squirrel’s hurt! Mash said urgently as they picked up the pace again, and Izzy looked to see that the Huntress was gritting her teeth, slightly hunched as she clutched her side, dark red blood seeping through her fingers.

Izzy set her jaw and fell in behind her packmate. There was nothing she could do about that now, except help her along if needed.

There! Up ahead!

“What?” Izzy huffed. Their frantic flight was really starting to take it out of her. And now she didn’t see anything ahead at all. There was the stream, the trees and bushes, the treetops…

Treetops?

“Oh,” Izzy said, as Howl and Buttercup at the front veered into the water, shrieked with either fear or glee or both, and leaped off the edge of the world.