The Iron Teeth

Along Twisted Paths 7

The morning sunlight shone down gently on Blacknail as he jogged. He'd been very busy yesterday. The hobgoblin had been so busy he hadn't even had time to hunt. Instead he'd made the goblins he'd been staying with bring him food and water, while he was busying.

A satisfied grin was plastered across his face as he headed down the road, and he was feeling quite cheerful. This was despite the fact that he had no idea where he was going or what he was going to do when he got there. It sure was a nice day out though!

Herad and her men's trail had long since faded, and it wasn't like he could stop and ask for directions either. His clothes had been torn apart by his recent scuffles and didn't serve as much of a disguise anymore. Unless he was trying to disguise himself as a hobgoblin wearing rags.

This left him with two options. Turn back towards camp and hang out with Red Dog, or continue on down the road and hope it led him to Herad before winter came. He chose the latter. Red Dog was no fun, and he was pretty sure that if he just followed the sound of screams that Herad would be close by. She was funny like that.

Whenever Blacknail heard or saw someone approaching he would slip into the woods and hide among the trees. He didn't want to draw any attention to himself or get delayed any more than he already had been.

It wasn't like the passing humans had anything he wanted anyway. He hadn't wasted the time he had spent recuperating with the goblin tribe. His backpack was stuffed full of fresh supplies. Before leaving them he had had smoked quite a few strips of meat and collected several handfuls of nuts and berries.

This meant he wouldn't need to stop to restock for quite awhile, and could thus keep moving the entire day. Hopefully, that would help him make up for some of the time he had lost.

The forest on both sides of the road was full of birdsong and the occasional sound of creatures scurrying through the underbrush. The trees were mostly the triangular needle covered kind instead of the ones with leaves. The ground itself was uneven and rocky. It had only the thinnest amount of soil on it and large sections of stone were exposed.

"Harpy teeth-ss and damnation!" he growled angrily as he took in the sight before him.

The road forked; it split in two and both parts went in completely different directions. Blacknail had no idea which one he was supposed to go down. He tried to find some sign or scent of his tribe's passing, but was unsurprised when he discovered nothing.

As he circled the crossroads for what must have been the tenth time he suddenly detected a noise. It sounded a lot like heavy footsteps, especially those of horses. Quickly, Blacknail slipped into the nearby bushes before he could be seen.

As he watched from his hiding place a group of humans came down the road. There were about three dozen of them and they all wore heavy packs. Their clothing was more than a little faded but it still seemed oddly colorful to Blacknail. Red and blue of various shades decorated their outfits.

Among their number there were three men and two women on horseback. Blacknail could already smell the foul beasts, the horses not the men. Their mounts also seemed to be carrying a lot of baggage. He had seen their like before on missions for Herad. These humans were traders.

When they got to the fork in the road they started heading South the way Blacknail had just come from. The hobgoblin eyed them carefully. They seemed to know where they were going. Perhaps he could somehow arrange to get this useful bit of information from them?

The hobgoblin waited until they had passed him by, and then began to stalk after them. It wasn't hard since they weren't exactly moving quickly, or being all that observant. Blacknail easily slipped through the bushes behind them unseen. Seriously what was up with their colorful clothing?