Go to the camp.

Eventually, Christine and Erik’s hunger got the better of them and decided to stray from the stone road in search of food. They didn’t have to travel far for soon they spotted the dim light of a campfire in a small clearing. Though their hunger was great, the youths knew better than to just walk into someone’s camp, especially in these woods. When they reached the lip of the camp, the youths took cover behind some trees and peered into the clearing.

The camp looked like it was in the process of being taken down as they see the tent rolled up in a bundle close by, and there was a bucket of mud next to the fireplace ready to put it out. However, there was no sign of the original inhabitants anywhere. What they did see was a plate of chicken bones lying next to a log.

Christine was hesitant to walk into the camp. Although the owner was nowhere to be seen, the camp looked like it had just been abandoned recently. However, before she could decide what to do, her brother slipped away from her and made his way into the camp.

“Erik,” she called out in a hushed voice.

Erik turned to her while walking backward towards the camp. “There no one here,” he replied, “Besides, it’s not like whoever set this camp is going to miss a few scraps of bread.”

Christine huffed at her little brother before standing from her hiding place, “Alright, but we can’t stay long. Just grab enough to eat.”

Erik ran towards a pack and started messily digging through it in search of food while Christine crept into the camp. Something didn’t feel right. As she looked at the ground, she could see a large group of footprints, some large but most small. She could also smell the slight hit of blood in the air. Looking at a nearby tree, she noticed a crude looking arrow sticking out of the trunk. The owner of the camp didn’t leave. They were driven off by something.

Christine was about to turn to her brother when she felt something small yet heavy landing on her back. She let out a loud yelp as the short assailant clung onto her, wrapping its arms under her shoulders and its legs around her hips. As Christine tried to shake it off, another small attacker darted towards her legs and tripped her, forcing her to fall forward into the mud.

“I got the pretty one!” shouted one of the small creatures.

“I got the small one!” shouted another.

Looking up from the mud, Christine gasped in horror when she saw a pair of goblins holding down her brother. She called out for help only to have one of the green demons shove her face into the mud.

“She is a loud one she is,” said the gobbling forcing her face into the ground.

“And this one is quite lively,” said one of the goblins as he tried to hold onto her thrashing brother.

Suddenly Christine felt a sharp object sliding under her cloak before it was swiftly cut it off of her body. “Perhaps we should have some fun with the pretty one before taking her back to our den, while the little one watches. That always breaks them, right quick.”

Christine let out loud scream as the goblins started to tear at her clothes, exposing her left shoulder.