Shawn came awake to the sound of beating drums. The surface beneath him was hard and seemed to be unstable, swaying back and forth. Shawn opened his eyes, grimacing when the light of a nearby torch made his head throb.

  He blinked slowly, trying to process what he was seeing. In the distance, the night sky was turning a pale shade of blue. The sun was coming up, and it would be morning soon. But why the hell was his bed moving?

  It was then that Shawn looked around and instantly wished he hadn’t. He wasn’t in a bed in his father's estate. He was lying on the deck of what looked to be a boat, surrounded by armed goblins. At first, he thought he was imagining things. That perhaps the leering green warriors around him were merely a figment of his groggy mind.

  Then the memories came back to him, and Shawn’s insides squeezed with fear. The tavern. He had been drinking in the local tavern, lamenting the lack of any quality wine. That’s when they had heard a commotion. Someone had raised the alarm, and somewhere beneath the five mugs of cheap beer he’d consumed, he had realized that something was truly wrong.

  The alarm bells had sounded, and by the time he and Osric had stumbled outside… Osric.. Shawn tried to rise, but his arms and hands were tightly bound. He looked around, breath coming faster as he searched for any sign of his bodyguard. He was an old bastard, a grumpy rule-following stick up the ass now that he thought about it.

  But Osric had always been dependable. His bodyguard, however, was nowhere in sight. Tied up beside him were four other prisoners. Two men, one of whom still wore the uniform of a watchman, though his armor had clearly been removed. Then there was a woman an a child. The woman was glaring in his direction, and Shawn reflexively glanced behind himself to see if it was him she was glaring at.

  “Coward,” she said a moment later. Ah. So it was him she’d been angry with. Shawn cleared his throat, a throat that felt notably raw. Had he been screaming when the goblins had fallen on him? Better not to think about it.

  “Is it cowardly to act logically?” he shot out, his own irritation leaping to the forefront. “You people didn’t have the infrastructure to support a goblin attack. It was my duty to ride and call for help.”

  “You weren’t going for help,” snarled the woman. Her eyes seemed to burn into him, and Shawn found it difficult to look her in the face.

  “You got on your horse and took off. You even left your own man behind.”

  Shawn’s face flushed with a mix of anger and shame.

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about, woman.” He snapped, trying to rise to his full height and only succeeding in flopping awkwardly on the deck. “I’m an Adventuerer. My job is greater than the lives of the few. I serve the many and the empire, and I answer only to the great guilds and his divine majesty himself.”

  Said with all the dignity he could muster while bound hand and foot in nothing but his underpants on a boat surrounded by enemies.

  The woman laughed, and Shawn saw one of the other prisoners flinch at the sound, glancing nervously around.

  “Service to the Empire, is it? To turn tail and flee from danger like a little girl. You’re nothing but a lousy coward. You’re no Adventuerer.” And she spat at him. Actually spat. At him. The glob of spit landed on his cheek before it began sliding slowly down his neck towards his collarbone.

  He sat in stunned silence for a moment, hardly believing what had just happened. Then his irritation caught up with him.

  “Are you out of your fucking mind?” he hissed, forcing himself up on an elbow. “Do you have any idea who I am? You do not spit on me. You do not-“

  She spat on him again, and this time the glob hit him full in the chest.

  “And what will you do about it, coward?” she said, her lip curling in disgust. A flare of temper made him grind his teeth and Shawn concentrated, reaching for the essence within himself. He would show her. He’d kill these goblins, and then he’d threaten to throw her overboard unless she kissed his boots and apologized. Right as soon as his essence responded. It would happen soon, very soon.

  Only..It didn’t. Less than a minute later, Shawn was sweating, his chest rising and falling as he tried to force his power to the forefront. But for all his trying, all his breathing techniques, focus, and not a few vibrant curses, nothing happened. What the blazes was going on?

  “I wouldn’t bother trying,” said the watchman. The man was in bad shape, tied with a thick rope to the mast of the ship, his head lulled forward as blood dripped from his hair onto the deck. “They’ve marked us with blood runes. Sealed our skills and abilities, at least temporarily. I’ve tried breaking it but-”

  The man let out a shaky breath, and it was then that Shawn realized how pale he was.

  “It’s no use.”

  Shawn looked down at himself, for the first time noticing the swirling patterns drawn over his body. They had been made in what looked like mud, but as he shifted in the torchlight, he could see the red hue to it. A cackle sounded from somewhere nearby. The other prisoners flinched, and Shawn looked up to see a goblin standing over him, its head canted to one side.

  Its large yellow eyes fixed on him, narrowing with amusement. Shawn’s heart did a little skip in his chest, but he was aware the woman was watching him, so he put on a brave face.

  “Where is your leader, beast?” he snapped, wincing inwardly when he heard his own voice break. “I demand to speak with him. I am Shawn Rellar, son of-“

  “No speak,” said the goblin, its gravely tone low. Shawn paused, licking his lips.

  “I don’t think you understand. Where is your leader? Let me speak AGH!”

  The tip of the goblin's spear jabbed into the meat of his calf, cutting his words off in a rather high-pitched scream. The pain was immediate as the cold metal pulled back out, and Shawn was alarmed to see blood welling from the wound.

  The goblin grinned at him, pointed teeth gleaming in the light of the torch it held.

  “No,” it said in that same flat, gravly tone. “Speak.”

  There was something in its teeth, Shawn realized. It looked like a bit of skin from a fruit or a scrap of….Shawn’s eyes landed on its belt, where the remains of a human hand were tucked. Blood still dripped from the end of the protruding bone, tapping a steady rhythm against the deck. Drip. Drip. Drip.

  The goblin smiled wider, and its long red tongue fished between its teeth, dislodging the bit of fresh and sweeping it into its mouth. It chewed nosily, its yellow eyes rolling back in apparent ecstasy.

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  “You next,” it said, and it cackled when it saw his expression. Shawn suddenly felt wet all over. He was sweating, he realized. Or maybe it was raining. Or maybe-

  “He’s pissed himself,” the woman observed in a dispassionate voice. “How did a worm like you ever become an Adventuerer.”

  His cheeks flushed with humiliation, and for a moment, he considered calling after the goblin that had wandered away down the deck. But his leg still hurt, and so did his head. So maybe, just maybe, it was smart to keep his mouth shut.

  “Don’t antagonize him,” wheezed the guardsman. He seemed to be losing a lot of blood, and Shawn wasn’t sure if he’d make it to wherever they were going. “He’s our best shot of making it out of here alive.”

  The woman laughed coldly, closing her eyes and resting her head against the mast.

  “If that’s the case, we might as well accept we’re dead.”

  Shawn opened his mouth to retort, but just then the boat rocked, groaning as if it had struck something. The goblins on board looked around, and the largest of them, the leader presumably, whipped its head in the direction of the nearest warrior.

  “What was?” it asked, banging the butt of its spear on the ground. The warrior shrugged, ambling over to one of its counterparts near the edge of the boat. The two goblins looked over the edge, peering into the water. After a moment, they shrugged again.

  “Hit rock,” said the warrior. The goblin leader’s yellow eyes narrowed, but it turned back to the front of the ship. It was a small craft, not much more than a raft with oars. Those oars were being worked by smaller goblins, some of whom seemed chained to them. Did goblins enslave their own?

  It didn’t matter. The boat was racing across the river at this rate, hurtling towards the other shore. There would likely be more goblins waiting there, and Shawn realized with a thrill of fear that if he didn’t act now, he might never have the opportunity to do so again. He steeled himself as he looked down at his bare chest again, examining the sigils scrawled across his body. These runes might temporarily block access to his powers, but if he could find a way to disrupt them.

  His hands were bound behind his back, so Shawn flipped himself over until he lay flat against the deck floor. It stank of old blood and rot, but he tried to ignore the scent as he crawled forward. Ahead of him, he’d spotted a pile of discarded rags lying on the deck. If he could get to them, wipe off some of the sigils…

  “What are you doing?” hissed the guard. He had looked up, his tired eyes fearful. Shawn ignored him, continuing his relentless scoot forward. It wasn’t far now.

  A shadow fell over him, blocking out the light of the torch. Shawn turned, a whimper escaping his lips when he saw the same goblin standing over him. It tsked at him, raising its spear.

  “Bad,” it said. Shawn shook his head.

  “No,” he said, “Wait I-“

  The spear blade bit deep into his thigh, the pain sudden and sharp. Shawn’s whole body went rigid as the goblin twisted the spear blade, its laughter echoed by its fellows as it made Shawn scream.

  “Pretty pretty music,” it crooned, its eyes narrowing. “Do it again.”

  The spear blade pierced him in the forearm, and Shawn screamed again whenn he saw it pass through his flesh through the other side. The goblin gave it a little shake, and Shawn writhed in pain as the goblin's laughter only grew louder. Tears were beginning to gather in the corner of his eyes. He wouldn’t cry damn it. Not here, not in front of others.

  He hadn’t been cut out for being an Adventurer. He'd tried to tell his father, tried to explain himself. He had been perfectly happy being an academy student, but the old man had said that wasn’t good enough for the Rellar name. And now… now he was going to die a plaything of goblins. Shawn’s lips trembled, and he clamped them down.

  The boat rocked again, this time more noticeably. The goblin stumbled, and behind him, Shawn saw a figure rise from the water. Dear gods above, was it some sort of river monster? He’d heard rumors, of course, but he’d never really thought…

  But no, this was no monster. It was a man.

  He climbed over the crude railing, dropping to the deck with a soft thump. He was soaked through as if he’d just gone for a swim, and he swept aside his wet cloak with a comical squelch.

  “Suppose I should have taken this thing off before I got in the water,” he mused as he drew his weapon from his back. It was the largest sword Shawn had ever seen. For a moment, he and the man stared at each other. Shawn slack-jawed on the deck of the boat, and the stranger with an expression of bland annoyance, as if he’d been interrupted on his evening stroll, and hadn’t just, in fact, climbed from the water into a boat full of goblins.

  The goblin that had been tormenting Shawn had frozen temporarily, seemingly as surprised as he was at this stranger's unexpected entrance. Now it shook itself, turning and opening its mouth to warn the others. The stranger lunged forward faster than Shawn’s eye could follow. One moment he was standing there dripping half the river on the deck, and the next, he had closed the distance and punched the goblin full in the face with a gloved fist.

  The force of the punch sent the goblin sailing forward, slamming into one of its fellows and knocking the other goblin overboard. The stranger pivoted, bringing his sword up and hacking the head off another goblin that had turned to see what all the commotion was about. Three down, and Shawn hadn’t even had time to blink.

  Just who in the blazes was this man?

  The goblins had finally seemed to catch up to what was happening, and one had the good sense to shout a warning to the others. That warning was cut short when the stranger cut its legs out from under it, spinning through several others with the deadly precision of a killer. Oh, this was no ordinary soldier. This man was an-

  “An Adventurer,” breathed the woman, her eyes widening in awe. Several of the others had perked up, including the child, who until then had been curled against the woman's side. Even the guardsman raised his head to look.

  The Adventuerer, for that’s surely what he was, was a sight to behold. The goblins had rallied a bit as the goblin leader shrieked for them to take up arms. Now, a cluster was coming at him, shields up and pointed spears gleaming as they advanced. They were trying to pin him, Shawn realized, force him off the boat with numbers.

  If the stranger was concerned with being outnumbered a dozen to one, he showed no sign of it. Instead, he flourished his giant sword, flipping it from hand to hand and adjusting his stance. Shawn felt the well of power long before he saw it. Aura rolled from the warrior as his eyes and arms glowed with power. Shawn felt the hairs on his arms and neck rise in response to the electricity in the air. Then the stranger moved.

  First, he swung his sword in a blow strong enough to cleave several of the goblins completely in two. The power of the strike carried over, slamming into the ship's mast and shattering it in a splinter of smoking wood. Then he blinked forward, disappearing and reappearing behind the goblin leader. The leader froze, its mouth gaping in a comical look of surprise.

  “Oh,” it said weakly before the Adventurer's giant sword cut through it from shoulder to hip. Blood sprayed, arcing across the deck. The remaining goblins seemed nervous now. Several began backing up as the stranger approached, his massive sword slung over one shoulder. He seemed for all the world to be having quite a good time. At least judging by the look in his eyes.

  “Is that all?” he taunted, whipping his sword through the air with surprising ease given the size and weight of the thing. “You don’t have anything more for more? Where’s your shaman?”

  But no shaman answered his challenge. Indeed, most of the goblins seemed to be rethinking the fight entirely. Shawn saw several sprint to the rail, bailing overboard into the water. The remaining bunch huddled together, their weapons raised as if that might somehow stop the hurricane that was this man. This… Adventuerer.

  “Hold on,” said Shawn, squinting as he watched the man. His sopping crimson cloak was thrown over one shoulder as he moved, cutting through the remaining goblins as if they were zone one mobs. Shawn had seen that cloak before.. seen that sword too. On the road, back when that slip of a girl had tempted him. This had been the bastard who challenged him.

  “Son of a… shit!” Shawn snarled, not exactly the dignified swear he was looking for, but it would have to do. There was a clatter on the side of the boat and Shawn turned, his heart leaping in his throat. But there were no goblins rushing him, thankfully. Instead he saw yet another familiar face.

  Osric clambered over the rail, dropping to the deck with a wet thud that seemed to echo. The bodyguard had lost his helmet somewhere in the fray but he was still wearing his plate armor. Come to think of it, how on earth had he managed to swim without sinking to the bottom of the river?

  “Young master,” the man wheezed, forcing himself to his knee and then to his feet. He was breathing hard, tossing wet hair out of his face as he rushed towards Shawn.

  “Are you injured? Did they hurt you?”

  “Yes yes,” Shawn snapped, his attention still drawn to the Adventuerer. “I mean, no. They did but I’m fine, it’s nothing serious.”

  Osric knelt beside him, frowning when he saw the wounds on his thigh and forearm.

  “You’re bleeding. Here, let me stop it.”

  The Adventuerer finished dispatching the last of the goblins, sending the last one into the water with a hard pummel strike. Then he turned, wandering back towards them as the broken mast behind him detached from the ship and tumbled into the water with a splash.

  “So,” said the man, striding right up to Shawn and staring down at him. His eyes were bright with amusement as he tilted his head, and in that moment, Shawn hated him for it.

  “We meet again.”