One lengthy explanation later

"So yeah, that's it more or less." Blem waited for Pleck to reply. The hobgoblin twirled a twig between his fingers as he thought it over.

"I can't say I believe you, but you don't seem to be pulling my leg so I think I understand. Then again it'd be one hell of a joke getting yourself stabbed and brutalized by a company of knights just to play a prank on an old shaman like me, so you have that much going for you."

Blem pulled a blanket over himself as he sat up. "Do you think I'll die if I let my vow go?"

Pleck faced him with a raised brow. "Of course! It's borderline blasphemous the claims you're making, and now you're seriously considering letting your gift go to waste? I may not believe you Blem, but if what you say is true then you certainly deserve a spot in damnation for considering such a foolish line of thought. I outta throw you out for these heresies you're speaking."

"But...?"

Pleck let out a deep sigh, "But, I pity you. I heard you about from all the stories of this one unfortunate goblin everyone wailed on. And when I ran into you I thought you were dead. It's not fair, and that's why I'm helping you."

Blem thougth deeply for a moment, "Then if you want to help me, can you train me?"

Pleck looked at him with wide eyes. "Train you?! Have you gone mad? What could I train you for, how to die while putting up a fight?"

"Yes"

Pleck groaned, "Look, I get you believed this happened to you, but why would you want me to train you? I'm just a bitter hobgoblin with bad memories and a penchant for scavenging."

"Because you're a hobgoblin."

"Oh what, because I'm a hobgoblin I have martial experitise¹This is a reference to the fact that in most TTRPG's hobgoblins tend to be depicted as a martial society. is that what you're trying to imply? I'll have you know my people were known for many things and we resented the stereotype." Pleck crossed his arms with a huff, "I mean you're correct, but still, come on. Besides you'd be better off running along and finding a new home."

"Oh please you have to help me! You already said you wanted to help me cause my situation is unfair, why not give me some training to even the odds?"

Pleck let out a deep sigh, "I'm going to regret this," he replied under his breath. "Fine, but here are my rules."

"Name em and I'll meet em!"

Pleck stuck an accusing finger at Blem, "Don't go acting cocky yet! I didn't even get to lay ground rules." Pleck cleared his throat, "First, what I say goes. Second, if you back out we're done training so no whining. Third, I can only teach you what I know, so if sneaking around with a bow and dagger ain't your thing go find another hobgoblin willing to train ya! Lastly, don't come back haunting me if you die cause you made a silly mistake. Otherwise I'll exorcise your ass striaght to damnation!"

"Noted," Blem replied dutifully.

Pleck plucked at the hairs on his chin while he mulled something over. Pleck looked older, but not elderly. His skin was a stony grey typical of hobgoblins but it hadn't faded enough to give away his true age. Though the way he carried himself Blem figured Pleck was a veteran of some kind. "Stay here Blem, I gotta go get supplies and weapons for our training. There's food in the back so you don't starve, and a knife on the table in case you need to defend yourself. Don't do anything strenuous, those wounds may be superficial but they're still liable to open up if you mess around."

"How am I supposed to defend myself if my wounds could open up again?" Blem replied in confusion.

"You'll figure it out," and before Blem knew it Pleck left. All Blem had now were his thoughts, the clothes on his back, a stash of food, and a knife. Blem looked around the cave while he waited for Pleck. Gradually he began to recognize features of this cave; a familiar crack there, a friendly stalagmite here, it wasn't Blem's cave but it was one of his hiding spots when the things that came to his cave meant to give Blem more than just a beating.

"Some help you were this time," Blem muttered.

He waited, occasionally playing with the knife while he lost himself in thought. Granted it was a stupid thing to do but Blem couldn't think of much else to do beyond counting flies and waiting for Pleck. While he waited he heard familiar little tiny thuds make his way towards him. He almost couldn't contain his joy when a mousey group wandered into the cave. "H-hey!" Blem held his hand out for his mice. Both mice and goblin were ecstatic, if it weren't for his wounds he would've danced around the room. "Well, my month was terrible but at least today was good."

Blem tallied his mice while he waited. Remarkably enough they all made it, twenty in all. Snowball led the pack; she was the meanest and toughest mouse this side of the Tellan Continent. It was nice to be back in familiar company, even if the circumstances weren’t ideal.

He waited as night fell. And he kept waiting even as the moon faded from the rapidly approaching dawn. "He abandoned me, figures."

Before Blem turned away from the entrance he spotted a lone silhouette amidst the morning fog. It was Pleck, and he was hauling a large bag full of goodies.

"You didn't steal those did you?"

Pleck grimaced, "Have some faith boy; I know what I'm doing." Pleck set the bag down and handed a bow to Blem

"It looks like it's made for a child."

"It is, I retooled it so it's draw weight²Draw weight is basically the amount of force you need to pull a bow isn't too weak, but not too restrictive. Also here's a dagger, and a cloak."

Blem looked at the weapons in his hand, "When do we begin?"

Pleck leaned down with a wry smile, "I hope you got some sleep cause your lessons start now."

Blem groaned.

Elsewhere, several miles away...

Elia ran through the bushes. Her limbs were cut up and bruised, but that would be nothing compared to the punishment the slavers had in store for her. While she ducked and weaved through the brush, the occasional flashes of home echoed in her mind. Bitter tears rolled off her cheeks as she frantically searched for an escape route, thoughts of burning houses and dead villagers coloring her every thought. The only things that hampered her escape were the Collar around her neck and the cuff links on her wrists that rattled every time she took a step.

She was a lucky one. The other slaves were already branded by magic. She wasn't quite sure why her branding was so lax, or why no one seemed to pay any particular attention to her. But she didn't care enough to let the opportunity slip by and now here she was, running through a dense forest from one hiding place to the next while slavers sought her out.

She had no idea where she was headed...and the goblins doing their training had no idea what was coming their way...