The Forest Near Blem's Cave, Early Dawn.

The morning dew was an odd feeling for Blem. He usually slept in when he could help it. But now here he was tramping through the dew covered underbrush, getting his clothes damp and hoping they don't get ambushed. Pleck came along too; he didn't quite like the plan but he agreed to come along. Elia was more gung-ho about it than even Blem. She had taken the slaver bosses great axe for herself, and kept a couple throwing axes on hand just in case. However her enthusiasm outpaced her capabilities. She took a breather every so often. It wasn't a problem for Blem or Pleck because they were already hiding themselves in the bushes or the tall grass. Elia on the otherhand wasn't as stealthy as either of them.

Contrary to Blem's preconceived notions about elves and their graceful existance, Elia was a stark contrast to that. She didn't flutter like a butterfly nor did she dance through the foliage. Instead she trampled through inelegantly. Every action she took lacked serenity but instead had a straightforward pragmatism that made Blem certain she was a warrior of some kind. Despite being a bit withered due to her recent captivity she still had some muscle which seemed to support his theory.

Meandering thoughts aside the trio continued deep into the forest. Elia led them along a rough trail, which led far deeper into the woods than Blem had ever been. Now Blem would be the first to confess he wasn't an outdoorsman, but what he wouldn't confess is that the deep woods scared him. Shadows everywhere, beasts and bugs crawling about, ne'er-do-wells waiting for their next victim, Blem had run into them all while he ran from people besieging his cave. Now here he was, in the thick of it trying not to fray his own nerves and while staying brave for the other two. The deeper into the forest they went, the more traces they found of Elia's captors. They were sloppy at concealing their camps; then again maybe they had no reason to suspect they'd be the ones on the defensive.

Pleck came out from the shadows and waved Elia over. "How much further?" he asked.

"I led them on loops through the forest and it took them a few days. If we continue on the straight path here it should only be another couple hours." Elia replied.

Wordlessly the group continued onwards. Pleck would glance over to check on Blem, then Elia. Blem was, surprisingly enough, used to this kind of strain. He was used to needing to trek long distances. Even Elia kept pace in spite of the occasional breather. At some point however Elia diverged off the main path. Pleck and Blem followed her up a hill which appeared to overlook the camp. "I knew I saw a hill here," Elia whispered to the goblins. The camp was nestled in a valley, and there were two large pavillion tents surrounded by dozens of smaller personal tents.

"This is it then? The slaver's camp?" Blem whispered back. Elia nodded.

"Let's ambush that group there," Pleck pointed to a party who were leaving camp.

"Why not just fight them right now?" Elia whispered angrily.

"In case if you haven't noticed, there are dozens of them down there, maybe even a hundred! I don't know about you but I don't feel like fighting thirty men at once." Pleck shot back. While Elia and Pleck stared each other down, Blem made his way off. "Where you going?" Pleck asked.

"To go ambush them," Blem replied.

"By yourself?!" Elia whispered incredulously.

Blem spun on the ball of his heel and turned to companions with a frustrated face. "Well, you'll have to forgive me for doing this on my own, it's just that my helpers seem more intent on killing each other instead of the band of slavers in the valley below." Pleck and Elia were taken aback by Blem's sarcasm. The bickering duo put aside their differences and followed Blem's lead.

They hustled as quietly as they could. Thankfully the slavers didn't seem to be in a rush and took their time patrolling. Unfortunately for the slavers that proved to be their undoing. When they had gotten far enough from the camp the slavers loitered just off the path. Pleck and Blem slid up to flank the slavers, quiet as shadows. Elia stayed where she was, ready to blitz from a nearby bush. Blem was feeling now, that rush he felt when he killed the slaver boss a few days ago. He kept his aim steady and trained his sights on a tall man who looked to be the leader of this patrol. They all resembled the slavers that came for Elia; all were lightly armed and armoured and all were human.

Blem loosed the arrow. The tall man collapsed, an arrow embedded deep in his side. Another fell to Pleck's arrow, this one striking his neck. Elia sprung from the bushes and threw her axes with such force that they struck her targets with an audible thunk. The remaining three slavers were dispatched just as easily, falling to Blem and Pleck's arrows. Elia grabbed her axes while the boys salvaged their arrows. "Think we'll be able to bleed them out?" Blem asked.

Pleck turned to Elia, "Elia, how often did they rotate patrols?"

The elf furrowed her brow while racking her brain for answers, "I think they rotate them out every couple of hours. I remember they used modified hour glasses to track when groups should be leaving and coming back."

Pleck scratched his chin, "Think they'll expect trouble?"

"Of course; between the men we killed outside Blem's cave and the patrol that we took care of today I don't see how they wouldn't worry about it."

Pleck turned to Blem, "Stay close something tells me we'll have no choice but to personal." Pleck turned to Elia and began strategizing their direct approach.

Blem on the other hand had his own idea. "Why don't we create a diversion," Blem butted in.

"Like what," Pleck replied warily. They didn't see eye to eye but in this moment Elia shared Pleck's wariness.

"How about I sneak in and start a fire at the big tents? That way the slavers are distracted, you guys can come in and kill them while they are busy."

Elia shook her head. "Are you sure about this Blem? What if you get caught?"

"If I get caught so be it. Besides I don't have a choice in the matter. Blem could see the skeptical looks in their eyes as they considered it. "Look even I get caught, you guys get your distraction, Elia gets her vengeance and Pleck can leave after."

"That's a suicidal way of looking at it boy." Pleck groaned.

"Well what's the alternative? We can't wait outside and hope they're foolish enough to be bled out like this. Likewise we can't just go charging in with out getting swarmed."

Pleck and Elia exchanged nervous glances as Blem set off.

Outside the slaver camp...

Elia waited outside the camp with Pleck. They hid in some bushes not too far from the entrance. Nothing was amiss yet, but Elia couldn't help but feel like tension was building in the air. She didn't like the fact that Blem was doing this alone. She didn't like the idea of her saviour braving the perils alone. She wanted to leap from the bushes and charge headlong into the camp. But she knew as well as Pleck did that all this would accomplish is getting themselves killed. Death wouldn't be so bad though...

In truth a part of her wanted to die. She had no home to go back to anymore. The slavers saw to that. And she most certainly wouldn't give herself to slavery, because she heard and seen the horror stories involving the older slaves. The part of her that wanted to live however was cold and angry. It hated the fact slavers like these could operate freely, it hated the fact that everyone tolerated and justified it, and worst of all no one seemed to consider stopping them. Not the so called 'heroes' who come from other worlds, not the champions of the gods, not the people's heroes, nobody. The only one who wanted some radical change was Blem, and now Blem was wading into an enemy camp with no real backup; and all Elia could do was wait.

She didn't much care for Pleck however. The remark where "she might not be worth the fight." As far as she could tell Pleck was an overly aloof hardass. Everything about him seemed flaky and that didn't right with her. "Hey Pleck what did you mean when you first met me?"

"Pardon?" Pleck replied in surprise.

"That I 'might not be worth the fight.' Am I worthless to you?"

"What are you going on about?" Pleck replied.

"Don't act stupid!" she spat. "When I first came to the cave you were more then willing to hand me over to those slavers; what's with that?!" Elia's whispers were gradually increasing in volume.

Pleck began snarling, "well excuse me my lady, but between me and Blem we weren't exactly a force to be reckoned with. As far as I knew there more of them in those bushes and I didn't quite feel like dying at that moment."

Elia glared at him, "I'm disappointed. I thought hobgoblins were tougher than that. Instead here you are some old cowardly washed up cretin acting all mysterious for nothing!"

Pleck glared at her, his eyes flaring with anger. But then, much to her surprise, his expression darkened, and the anger faded from his eyes. "Maybe too many of my people wasted their lives on such foolish ways of thinking." Before he could elaborate they began hearing the telltale signs of a commotion.

"Fire! Fire in the main tents!" they heard one of the slavers shout. Whatever distaste they held for each other evaporated in that moment. Pleck and Elia ran out of the bushes.

They charged through the open gate. It was pure chaos. Slavers ran around frantically looking for buckets or even jars of water. Slaves who weren't branded by any kind of magic took their shots and either grabbed weapons or took their chances in the wilderness. The pair didn't have wait long for trouble, a couple of slavers not trying to put out the fires noticed them immediately. Pleck was quick on the draw but his target raised their shield just in time. Elia's target wasn't so lucky. She throw the hand axe with enough precision to catch his boot. While he was screaming she struck his chest next with the other axe. The other man would've charged the duo were it not for Blem emerging from the shadows to deliver the killing blow with his daggers. fruitlessly the man tried to pry Blem but every ounce of effort was countered by Blem's stabs.

"You're crazy you know that!" Elia replied more in relief than anger.

"Nevermind that look!" Blem pointed to a large crowd of slavers forming up. There were at least twelve of them, and they weren't looking to put out some fires. The newly reunited trio formed up. With the chaos brewing around them, slaves fighting slavers, slavers fighting fires they didn't seem too out of place.

"I knew I should've just put you in the ground when I had the chance elf!" the man who spoke was Lestric Maul, the leader of this band of slavers. He was a brute and a charlatan. Unlike the other bruisers in his company, Lestric was small and lithe like an emaciated rat. He had a face like a rat too, ugly and pointed.

"I'm putting an end to your evil Lestric!" Elia drew her greataxe. Before Blem or Pleck could think of an approach Elia charged. Three slavers attempted to intercept her. Elia might not have been the most graceful elf girl in the village, but when you put a weapon in her hand she could dance. And she danced right around the slavers.

She worked in tandem with her greataxes weight to guide her steps. When her axe bit into the back of one man, she held onto it and lept up and off the shield of another of her attackers, prying the axe free with the momentum. Using her momentum she carried through on another attack which cleaved clean through the third attacker's shield, reducing his arm to a bloody stump. The surviving attacker tried to raise his tower shield to no avail. She simply side stepped and drove the greataxe's spike into his neck.

Lestric's men looked on, both horrified and mesmerized. Two of their members suddenly crumbling to the ground from arrow wounds brought them out of their stupor. When Lestric seen the goblins lining up more shots he felt his blood run cold. "Defend me," he whined to his men before turning tail and running. Elia felt the need to charge after him. The suffering he caused needed to end today. However, the group of slavers amassing behind the goblins changed her mind. You'll get yours you misery peddler, she thought as he ran off to the stables.

Elia called to the goblins, and alerted them to the danger brewing behind them. Then she turned her attention to the remainder of Lestric's boys. They weren't anything special; indeed she carved through them just as easily as she did the last three. Once more she glanced between the stables and the boys holding off the slavers who arrived to face them at a staggered pace. She considered once more if she should try and catch him or rejoin her allies. You'll get yours you misery peddler, she repeated as she ran to rejoin the goblins.

Between the fires and slave uprising they didn't have to worry about too much. The slavers were too disorganized to offer any meaningful resistance, their efforts too piecemeal to give them a fighting chance. Those who weren't dead or dying tried to run away, only to get hunted down by vengeful slaves or hopelessly lost in the deep woods. The trio cautiously stood in the middle of the carnage, bodies strewn everywhere. The fires were dying down, the sun was high in the sky, and the air felt dry. Elia felt disappointed she let her foe get away, but she could gain at least a measure of satisfaction from ruining his operations here.

The surviving slaves left in droves. A few thanked the trio, but most left them alone either too fearful or too distrusting of the goblins. When it felt safe to do so Pleck and Blem began scavenging the battlefield before returning home. While they looked surprised at Elia joining them they didn't protest and so the trio left in victory