The smell of rotting flesh filled the warm summer air long before Jaak rounded the hill. Jaak carefully approached the scene that was waiting; making sure his sword was loose in its scabbard as he did so. The eager humming of flies became apparent as Jaak came around the hill, and the stench was close to unbearable. In front of him lay several livestock carcasses, strewn in front or around two wagons with broken wheels. Looking around, Jaak saw only animal carcasses, but it was apparent that this had been the scene of a battle. The wagons had been emptied, either by looters or survivors, and left on the small dirt road. Half a dozen crows were pecking at the carcasses, but soon took to the air when the huge man approached. When poking around the area, Jaak noticed there were no humanoid bodies, but could conclude after examining the scene that there had been people killed here. The fallen must’ve also been removed by the survivors.

Determined to get to the bottom of this, the woodsman carefully looked around the site for clues as to what could have transpired. It was obvious that whoever rode the wagons had been attacked by a superior force, but all Jaak could find was footprints that were too muddled and weak to follow. Sighing, he decided to move on from this disturbing scene. He had heard rumors that the area north of the upper Niema valley was growing dangerous these days, but he had not expected to find a scene like this only a few days away from the numerous safe settlements and orchards in the valley.

The following days would only show Jaak more signs of this danger; burned crops and barns, dead cattle and broken fences. It was apparent that someone was raiding these parts, and when he finally reached a settlement of some size, he found that a lot of people had left and the remaining ones had barricaded the buildings of the small village. The locals could tell the hunter that people in this area lived in constant fear of raids after what they had heard travelers tell them of the situation in the area. Although they could not be sure themselves since they hadn’t been attacked, people up north from Tornsville, they said, were claiming goblins were looting the countryside. This rumor concerned Jaak, who soon found himself on the road to Tornsville.

On the way there, the chaos became more apparent. Jaak would find that the evidence of raids became more prevalent as he travelled north. It was either a lot of goblins, or this was done by a small band and had gone on for a while. He did not know which one he preferred.

With the small village of Tornsville not even a mile ahead, Jaak was greeted by a single rider. It was a slightly obese, bald man with mustache in his late thirties or early forties, wearing a slightly too small padded armor and carrying a spear.

”Hoo, hoo,” he brought his horse to a halt. ”Halt, stranger, you should…” the man had been issuing a warning in a shaking, but still authoritarian voice. He had, however, been cut short by himself as he noticed the small arsenal of weapons Jaak was carrying. ”You’re, you’re no trader or traveler,” the rider stated, not really sure what to make of this.

”True,” Jaak replied with his strong voice. ”I hear you have trouble in these parts, how big?” He asked. No need for pleasentries.

”Oh thank the Makers of the World!” the man exclaimed, ”You do not know what kind of salvation you bring to us,” he went on, ”it seems in these difficult we’re all but forgotten up here. Farmers close to the mountains may not produce as much as those down south, but we’re important to the area around here, and the upper valley. Not that nobility and royalty cares,” he went on.

”Cut to the chase, old man,” Jaak cut him off and crossed his arms, ”the situation is as it is. I can’t do much about politics, but I can help you with this,” he said bluntly and pointed at a nearby field that had been scorched. ”How big?” he repeated.

”The goblins?” the said ”They’re not big, but they’re looting and pillaging enough for an army. A farmer over the East Ridge there,” the man indicated a collection of small hills to the east, ”said that it was only a small band, under a dozen, and that he and his sons could take them,” the man dried his sweaty head with his forearm ”but they rest with the Good Spirits now, even though he had four big sons.”

That information was a little unsettling, even to Jaak. ”Has the village been attacked?” the hunter asked, still keeping his arms folded and looking at the man with a stern look.

”No, we’ve barricaded and armed ourselves as best as we can,” the man explained. Looking at the village, Jaak could tell that didn’t count for much. From this range, he figured it had a small village square around a well with maybe a tavern and a blacksmith, as well as a few sales buildings for the surrounding farmers. Apart from that, the village wasn’t as much a village as it was simply a collection of several farms. But still, the villager would outnumber a small band of goblins, and there were strength in numbers.

”Do you have more horses and riders?” Jaak asked, finally unfolding his arms and taking of his helmet.

”Yes, there are six more,” he said.

”Good, now what’s your name?”

”Gunner, I live over there,” Gunner pointed to the northwestern most farm.

”Alright, Gunner,” Jaak replied, ”listen carefully. Gather the four best riders and have them ride hard south and west, stopping by every village, settlement, city, outpost, traveler, ranger and soldier and spread the word that Jaak Byron the monster hunter seeks brave warriors willing to risk their lives protecting the citizens of Corone against goblins. They can find him at Gunner’s farm in Tornsville. If they ride hard and ride now, they will be long out of this area before dark.”

”But,” Gunner started.

”Go!”