

## The Adventures of Stan and the Emerald of Foundation

## Ben Walsh

### Published by Ben Walsh

### Copyright 2015 Ben Walsh

Thank you for downloading this ebook. You are welcome to share it with your friends. This book may be reproduced, copied and distributed for non-commercial purposes, provided the book remains in its complete original form. If you enjoyed this book, please return to your favorite ebook retailer to discover other works by this author. Thank you for your support.
Chapter One

CRUNCH!

"Quiet!" hissed Edgar, as the sickening noise of the snapped bone echoed through the cave.

"Sssssorry, Edgar, I just can't see where I'm treading, please let's light one of our torches, things would be so much easier?" complained Marvin, as he clumsily stepped over another skeleton. Stan brought up the rear of the trio, and tutted as he bumped into the back of Marvin, who had come to an untimely stop. "No, Marvin, unless you want to awaken Gordon the Gruesome and end up like one of the other explorers who've tried to steal his gold."

Stan instantly regretted snapping at his best friend. Although Stan would never confess, he secretly wished Marvin wasn't part of the quest; as much as he enjoyed his company, he just wasn't cut out for it, and held them back.

"Will the two of you PLEASE stop talking, you are driving me insane! Come on, the great door's just up this mound, we're almost there", whispered Edgar. "Stan, you know what to do, as we practised".

Stan Pike was the youngest and also by far the smallest of the three. With a rounded, warm face and unusually high cheekbones, his face wore a constant smile, although anyone who knew him was aware that the smile was genuine. His slightly larger than normal, chocolate coloured eyes glistened mischievously and he had a full head of shaggy, uncared for black hair.

The great door, visible courtesy of a single, dingy candle, was made entirely from steel, seemingly a simple enough construction which stretched up higher than the eye could see. A golden handle protruded from the door, but fortunately Stan knew the secret danger the handle provided, for using it would sound off a bell system, alerting the fearsome dragon to the presence of intruders. The door was scratched and chinked, where the hammer or axe of previous visitors had tried, but failed, to penetrate the surface. Fortunately, the boys knew of another entrance, via a tiny gap beneath the door, a gap so minute it was barely visible to the naked eye.

As a result of this, it fell to Stan, the only one small enough, to claw his way under.

"I'm not so sure this is a good idea, there's no way Stan will fit through there," complained Marvin. "Maybe we should head ba-"

"Enough!" snapped Edgar. "Go on, Stan, let's get a move on, this place is giving me the shivers, must be haunted. You need to hurry up, get in there and pull the lever to let us in, so we can grab all the gold we can. We need to get out of here as soon as possible!"

"H-h-h-h-h-h.. haunted?" Marvin's lips trembled as he asked the question.

"Oh yes, the ghosts of the dead protect their slayer and attack anyone who dares to enter Gordon the Gruesome's lair! Especially fat little boys like you, now stop your snivelling, Stan hurry up."

Stan made his way over to where Marvin cowered, glaring at his brother as he did so. Stan was often powerless to prevent his older brother getting his way, but on this occasion, Edgar couldn't argue, as it was his debt to the village bully they were here to help pay off.

Stan gazed down at his short, plump best friend with sympathy. Sweat poured down his chubby cheeks, partly from the vigorous climb, but more so, Stan suspected, from his fear.

"Marvin Miller," Stan started, putting a comforting arm on his friend's shoulder, "he's only joking, ghosts aren't real."

"But he -"

"Marvin!!" Stan interrupted, fighting to remain patient, "Edgar is always making things up. Remember the time he bragged about kissing the milkmaid, so we went and found her and asked? She had no idea who he was!"

This memory made Marvin laugh, snivelling as he did so. Over his shoulder, Stan noticed his brother's abnormally large head turning red, and couldn't help but smile.

"Now, I need you to hold this rope for me. Remember, if you feel three tugs on the rope, I'm in trouble and I need you to open the door yourselves to come help me, you got that?"

"Yes, Stan, you can count on me!" Marvin replied, with enthusiasm but more than a hint of fear, as Stan retrieved the enormous length of rope from the bag the three had shared.

Stan tied one end of the rope around his ankle, before handing the other end to Marvin.

He turned to the door, and took a deep breathe, before crouching down and lying flat on his tummy. He wriggled underneath the door's bottom and squeezed through, scraping at the floor to help pull his body forward. In no time he was fully underneath, but to his surprise had no sight of the other side. The door was far thicker than he could ever have imagined! For what felt like an eternity, Stan desperately clawed his nails into the ground and kicked his feet to push himself forward, a tiny bit at a time. Stan forced himself to think of his favourite things, to help him forget about the soul destroying, claustrophobic encounter he was in the middle of. He thought of Lake Walandik, in his home town of Oadford, and how he'd love to go swimming soon. Spring had arrived but been unusually chilly so far this year, deterring even the bravest of swimmers. The lines of trees around the edge were beginning to blossom, a pink colour, akin to that of a pig's belly, and on a warm day, Stan could spend hours sat beneath one, away from the hectic nature of the town centre, looking out to sea, wondering what lay beyond.

It was impossible to say how long Stan spent, pulling himself along with nothing but his own thoughts for company, but after a while, a faint glowing light appeared in front of him. Excited, Stan kicked and scraped his way forwards even harder, until his arms and torso squeezed out of the gap on the other side of the door, and emerged into a large chamber, bigger than anything Stan had ever seen before!

He pulled his legs out and sprang up. Unlike the dingy cave he'd left, this side of the door was brightly lit by torches lining the wall. The most obvious difference was the huge piles and piles of gold towering in front of him, spreading into the distance and out of sight. He gasped, amazed, and reached out to touch a gold helmet, as if to confirm that his eyes weren't deceiving him. He placed it on his head, forgetting all of his fears as he laughed and laughed at the unbelievable scene in front of him. There was more gold in this room than he previously thought existed in the whole world! Anything you could think of was there – a gold shield, gold necklaces, gold medallions, golden swords, gold knives and forks – everything! Stan got a little carried away, and soon forgot his whereabouts. Before he knew it, he was dressed from head to toe in gold armour, and was reaching for a gold shield when the weight of the gold forced Stan to stumble, and knocked a bird cage, which fell onto the ground with an enormous CLANG!

Stan held his breath, waiting to see if he had disturbed anyone, and lay hiding, terrified for over a minute. Only when several minutes passed without any sound or movement did Stan allow himself to breathe again, cautiously pulling himself up. The accident brought him back to his senses, and after taking off all of the gold, he began to search for the lever to open the door for Marvin and Edgar, without setting off the bells and waking Gordon the Gruesome.

His first thoughts were to look in the area around the door, which itself was unremarkable from the inside. To Stan's annoyance, he was unable to locate anything which so much as resembled a lever, and he eventually accepted what he had hoped to avoid, and began to delve deeper into the cave.

He had somehow managed to forget about the fire breathing dragon which, according to town gossip, was in a deep sleep within the cave. In truth, no one knew, as he had not been seen for over one hundred years. Stan crept through the stacks of gold, wary to avoid disturbing any piles and cause another crashing accident.

Stan's frustration grew as time passed and he explored the cavern without success, huffing as he did so. The dragon's lair was far larger than he had imagined. The entry room was huge and slopped upwards to the right, out of sight of the Great Door. Towards the end of the cavern, Stan found several flights of stairs. After heading down one flight, he entered a maze of twisting, turning corridors, the paving covered almost entirely in gold. Eventually, Stan re-emerged into a second larger chamber, which was again brightly lit and filled with gold. As Stan clambered down a small slope into the chamber, he finally spotted what he had been searching for, mere steps away from him, on a ledge on the side of a wall. Excitably, Stan hurried over, eager to get out of the cave.

However, before he could reach the lever, Stan stumbled and flew headfirst into the wall, collapsing into a slump at its base. Confused, he glanced around, as he saw no gold on the path, nothing but black tiling – then he discovered the reason for the fall. As he did so, his jaw dropped open in and shock. For the thing he had not noticed and which had caused him to fall was also black, but thicker and with little spikes coming out of the sides.

Stan found himself paralysed, unable to move in sheer terror, as he rapidly began to piece together what his eyes were telling him – he had tripped over part of the tail of Gordon the Gruesome! After a few moments, Stan mustered the courage to peak around the wall from behind which the tail emerged; he instantly wished he hadn't.

Lying in the room next to him was the biggest, most terrifying looking creature Stan had ever set eyes upon. It was jet black, with enormous nostrils and a mouth more than big enough to swallow him in one. Gordon's teeth looked even sharper than the razors Stan's father trimmed his beard with, while his claws were jagged and pointy, and seemed as though they could easily slice Stan's head clean off of his shoulders!

Fortunately for Stan, Gordon didn't seem to have detected the kick to his tail, which was as wide as a tree trunk. Stan said a silent prayer of thanks to the Gods, and edged away as quickly as he dared, in order to get back to the lever, to let Marvin and Edgar in. He kept Gordon in his sight at all times, scared he would creep up on him if he looked away for even a second.

As Stan's heart began to stop pounding in his chest, he heard a dreadful noise he would remember for the rest of his life –

CHIME, CHIME, CHIME – DING DONG, DING DONG, DING DONG

Seemingly from no-where came a deafening noise which sounded like a combination of church bells and a cuckoo clock. Stan held his hands to his ears to try and keep the noise out, as the sharp, shrilling sound made his brain feel like it was bleeding. The pain though was the least of Stan's problems, as he realised when he glanced back up at Gordon, just in time to see one of his big, orange eyes, slowly flicker open..
Chapter Two

Without a second's thought, Stan turned and fled. He clambered through gold and leapt down flights of stairs, desperately trying to remember the way. He daren't look back at Gordon, but the occasional roar told him all he needed to know – Gordon was in pursuit.

Fortunately for Stan, the ferocious dragon had been deep in slumber for hundreds of years, and crashed around corners and through piles of gold with the sluggishness of a sloth. Stan was outpacing the beast with ease, but the dragon was becoming more awake by the second. Stan pushed all thoughts of the dragon to the back of his mind, and concentrated solely on escaping.

"Left here Stan, that's the one, past the big gold wardrobe, down these stairs, round the corner, oh there's Edgar and Marvin right in front of me, wait WHAT??"

Before Stan had the chance to comprehend what he had seen he clattered into his brother and his foolish best friend, and they tumbled down a set of cold, stone steps, away from the door offering the only escape. The force of the collision carried them further away with every passing second, until after what felt like hours the three boys were flung into a wall.

Groggily and aching all over, Stan and Edgar struggled back to their feet, dusting themselves down. In the background, the chiming of the bell continued, although the sound didn't seem as loud as earlier – perhaps he had adapted to it.

"I hurt so much, all over," complained Marvin.

"Come on Marvin, you're fine, Edgar help me get him up." Stan and Edgar grabbed an arm each and between them managed to drag him up onto his feet.

After checking that Marvin was ok, Stan took a minute to take in his new surroundings. This new room was darkened and appeared to stretch on for miles either side of him. There was still gold here, but it seemed dirty, and grubbier. Torches on the walls provided the only lighting, but for this the group could be grateful, as what little they could see produced fear enough. Along the wall, stone gargoyles hung, glaring down on the new residents of the room, each managing to portray evil with a different expression. They all seemed to be staring directly at Stan, but one in particular caught his eye; it had a twisted, warped smile, as if thrilled to have the boys in its company. Ahead were the stairs they'd tumbled down, while the lighting wasn't strong enough to see to the chamber's ends to Stan's left or right. Unnervingly, Stan couldn't help but notice that Gordon had fallen silent.

"Do you think he's gone back to sleep?" whispered Marvin.

"No, no, he won't go back to sleep until he finds and destroys whoever dares threaten his gold. We must be deep in the mountain, too far below him to hear him. The question is, can we get out through this cave if we follow it far enough?" replied Edgar, straining his neck to try and look further into the darkness to his right.

"No! That is not the question. The question is why did you use the handle to come in? You were the ones who woke him up. Why were you in the chamber at all?" complained Stan.

"You can blame this idiot you call a friend. He opened the door, literally flung it open!" hissed Edgar, shooting a glance so poisonous towards Marvin that Stan half expected a venomous dart to fly out of his eye.

"You pulled on the rope, you said if you pull on the rope we needed to come in and help you, I promised I would Stan, and I did, I was scared but I ignored that and came for you anyway because you're my best friend," Marvin boasted.

"But I didn't tug on - Eughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh." Stan realised suddenly why the doors had opened. By tripping over Gordon the Gruesome's tail he must have tugged on the rope, causing them to rush in for him.

"Marvin you were supposed to come if I tugged on the rope three times. I fell and the rope pulled after me, once!"

"Oh..." Marvin sighed, his face dropping as he remembered, "I'm so sorry. Please forgive me Stan, I was scared something bad might to happen to you."

"I tried to stop him but it was too late, and once the door opened there was nothing to be done but come and get you out." Edgar spat on the floor next to Marvin in disgust. "And now we're trapped in here with that horrible, boy eating beast wandering round somewhere up there!" Edgar pointed his grubby finger up at the ceiling, and as he did the roof of the cave seemed to shake, almost as if underneath the huge weight of a ferocious, fire-breathing dragon.

Stan waited for the trembling to stop, before interrupting his brother.

"Edgar, stop. Marvin was simply looking out for me, and pointing the finger of blame isn't going to do any good, we need to work out what we're going to do."

"Ok, well we're trapped under tonnes of rock, with a fire breathing, angry dragon above our heads. May I ask what exactly what it is that you intend to do?" hissed Edgar.

"We distract him, and we run. That's what!" replied Stan, causing his brother's face to twist in thought.

Marvin shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his face a picture of discomfort.

"H-h-h-ow are we supposed to do that?"

"There is gold everywhere. We throw it, Edgar you used to throw stones all the way across the Walandik Lake, you can throw all the way to the other side of the lair, I know it. Marvin, imagine you're in your father's farm yard hurling pig's poo out of your field and into Farmer Ashwin's! Don't you understand, Gordon will think we're on the far side of the cave, it's perfect!"

"Hmm, I guess that could work," pondered Edgar, "but how will we get all the way down the mountain and back to Oadford without him catching us?"

"Edgar, no one has seen Gordon the Gruesome for hundreds of years! He's probably afraid of men, otherwise why else wouldn't he have left the mountain?"

"I was told that he's been asleep all this time, protecting his g-g-old..."

Stan and Edgar both turned their heads to glare at Marvin, as if his statement was the most ridiculous thing that anybody could possibly say.

"Marvin no body sleeps for a hundred years, I know you love to spend your days sitting on your lardy backside doing nothing but sleeping but even so –"Edgar started.

"That's enough Edgar! Marvin he's right though, there's no chance he was sleeping for that long. This can work; so long as we stick together. Come on everyone, on me," and before anyone had a chance to complain, Stan scurried back up the stairs they had fallen down, scooping up a handful of gold.

Edgar and Marvin followed, weaving from shadow to shadow whilst also picking up as much gold as their hands would allow them to carry. They crept up to the top step, and Stan held his hand out to stop the others. He peered his neck round the wall, but immediately ducked back again.

"What did you see Stan?" Asked Edgar.

"Gordon, he's around that corner, now shush, he'll move on soon, as long as nobody makes a sound," Stan murmured as loudly as he dared. "If he hears us he'll know exactly where we are and we'll be trapped!"

Stan slowly craned his neck to peer back round the corner and to his delight saw Gordon edging away to search for them elsewhere. All they needed to do was wait for him to disappear from sight.

CLANG

Stan turned back in horror, just in time to grimace as a coin tumbled down the stairs, echoing a loud clanging noise with every bounce. Edgar was glaring at Marvin, who was bright red and trembling.

"Put the coins down before you drop anymore!" Edgar hissed.

Stan threw himself back to the corner to see if Gordon had been alerted, but nothing indicated that he had, allowing Stan to breathe a huge sigh of relief. However, the second Stan started to believe they were going to escape unpunished, the ground started to tremble and shake, and all three boys looked at each other with the same terrified expression, screaming as one.

"RUN!!!"

The three of them raced away as fast as they could, too terrified to glance back for fear of what they might see. Edgar led, as he was by far the quickest and most athletic, and as he did so he cleared a path for Stan and Marvin. Stan followed closely behind as they headed towards the door, but with every step they left Marvin trailing even further behind.

Stan glanced back to track how his friend was doing and noticed this, and called for Edgar to wait.

"Marvin's so far behind, he'll be caught if we don't help!" Stan said, grabbing his hair in worry and frustration.

"You go on ahead Stan, take Marvin with you, I'll go and get Gordon's attention and lead him away, I'll meet you at Maximus' hut, he'll know what to do, there's no time to argue so just go!"

With that, Edgar sprinted back in the opposite direction, past a panting Marvin and round a corner, shouting and singing as he went.

"Come on Marvin, Edgar's buying us some time, but we must move now, as fast as we can, you lead and I'll be right behind you!" Stan urged his friend forwards, whilst jogging a step behind him.

Marvin was spurred on by this, and against the background noise of Edgar chanting, the two boys managed to make for the exit in quicker time. At one point Marvin nearly collapsed, but Stan grabbed his arm and dragged him forwards. Finally, the great door came into sight, still ajar from Marvin and Edgar's entry.

"Marvin we've made it, come on through the door and back through the cave!"

They sprinted past the skeletons they had earlier been terrified by, and after what felt like hours of running, they burst back into the open, stopping for a moment to pant and gasp for air. Stan was proud of his best friend, who previously only ever ran from his bed to the cupboards when he was hungry, and told him as much.

"It's entirely my fault Stan, I'm so sorry, I panicked."

Stan put his arm around the shoulders of his companion and pulled him in close to him, sighing, "This was an accident, and to tell you the truth, it's amazing to know that I've got a mate who cares about me so much that he'll put himself into any danger, just to help me out."

Marvin whimpered, and wiped his snotty nose on his sleeve. When he pulled away, Stan picked up on the fact that his eyes were watery and red.

The pair sat, watching the night's darkness, listening out for any sign of Edgar. They sat for hours, but the only sound they heard was the chirping of birds and whooshing of trees in the wind.

Stan grew more restless by the second and begun pacing, but as the sun rose, Edgar still failed to emerge from the darkness of the cave.

"He's going to be alright mate," Marvin said, "there's nothing your Edgar can't do, he's like some sort of superhero! Remember that time when he swam all the way across Walandik Lake to find the teddy bear of yours that mean Tommy had thrown in? Knowing Edgar he'll have done something daft and got lost!"

Stan wished he could share his friend's feelings, but he was becoming increasingly anxious. Eventually, he came to a decision.

"Marvin, I'm going back in." Stan saw his friend's face drop but ignored it. "You stay here, I'll be back soon, I'm just going to have a peek around to see where he is. This doesn't feel good at all."

With that, he gave his friend a pat on the shoulder and stepped back into the cave.
Chapter Three

It was ten years to the day since Grimey had been brought into the world. Almost immediately a sword had been thrust into his hand and he began being trained and moulded into the fierce warrior and leader he now was. Goblins were not feared for their build or height, but Grimey was the exception, towering above first all of his family, and later his fellow fighters, whom he now commanded. As he climbed the spiralling staircase, his thoughts momentarily flickered to his family. His brother would also be ten today, albeit in entirely different circumstances. These thoughts were pushed away, for a job needed to be done and sentimentality would not help to achieve it. He would punish himself for being side-tracked later. For now, he pushed the memory to the back of his mind, as he had reached the top of the stairs. He nodded at the guard, and pushed open the old, creaking door.

"Ah, Grimey I was wondering where you were, come closer, I'm going to tell you a story," the cloaked figure stood in the corner said, gazing out of the window at his lands. "Others leave us, at once", he snapped.

Several short, ugly creatures plodded out of the room.

"Come closer Grimey, take a seat, here no need to fetch one, allow me," and the man effortlessly flicked his finger, causing the nearest chair to slide towards the window.

"Thank you, Sir", Grimey croaked in his deep, hoarse voice, as he sat uneasily on the wooden chair.

"Grimey do you believe in old legends and stories?"

"No Sir, they are just made up to entertain children and to scare them into doing what they are told," he grunted in reply.

"What about the legend of the Emerald of Foundation, are you acquainted with that one?" The man asked, leaning forwards into the light, allowing Grimey to cast eyes upon him for the first time that evening, as he peered out from the shadows. He was Gustavo, the youngest member of the wizarding council at just 45 human years old, equivalent to 18 goblin years. He wore all black, with short, jet black hair and black stubble upon his chin. Sometimes when he walked alongside Gustavo, Grimey noticed that some goblins cowered away from him, intimidated by his dark appearance. Grimey made sure they did not live to soak in the sunrise – he would not fight alongside cowards.

"Yes Sir, I am familiar with the myth, but it is no truer than any of the others," he replied.

"Well listen closely, because I can tell you now that the Emerald is real, and I know where it is. Now, you may recall in the story, that hundreds of years ago existed a wizard named Mystico. He was a genius, the very best. He grew bored of doing regular wizarding things though, and decided to try to do something that nobody had ever done before. He wanted to prove he was the best. So he set about transforming a regular Emerald, from the mines of Emuella, and he made it magical, more magical than any other object in the entire world!" Gustavo leaned forwards with a rare smile spreading across his face. "Are you aware of what its powers are?"

Grimey shifted in his seat, as he didn't believe in the myth that his leader so clearly did.

"Well, Sir, let me think a moment... the Emerald of Foundation is a creator. The master of the Emerald can create things with ease that no other man can, or so legend would have us believe."

Without warning, Gustavo sprung up and began to pace.

"Correct, he can. In short, Grimey, he will be the most powerful man in the world. With an Emerald he could build an entire city, or an army, or he could create a dragon or a new weapon, he would possess the key to world domination!" As Gustavo spoke he became louder and more excitable, exuberantly waving his hands and bellowing by the end. He calmed himself, and retook his seat.

"Now, after Mystico died at an old age, in bed surrounded by his many lands and creations, he placed a curse on the Emerald, to stop any of his wicked sons from stealing it. Anyone who took it would suffer grave misfortune, unless they knew the counter curse, which only he and his closest wizarding friend Houdazald knew. Naturally after he passed, the first son took the Emerald and built himself a big farm and a wife, and lived happier than ever before. Until an axe fell from the wall and chopped his head off one day. His wife then took the Emerald, and she used it to build a well so that she and her family never had to be without water again, as she had been as a child. A most noble act – until she fell in and couldn't climb back out!" Gustavo laughed at this, apparently amused by the poor woman's horrific fate.

"The tales of woe go on, but over the years the truth has become less believed and many foolishly dismiss it as a purely mythical story. As of now the true destination of the Emerald is, well was, unknown. But I have spent the past few months reading through the old maps, visiting old friends, studying the tales, and I've managed to work out where the Emerald is." Gustavo was smirking now, clearly impressed with himself, his tone and body language dispensing an air of smugness even greater than usual.

"Now think about dragons, if you will. All living dragons are owned by someone, or died off hundreds of years ago. All but one, that is. Three hundred years ago Gordon the Gruesome appeared from nowhere, in the middle of an area with no previous dragon activity, no other dragons around, in a mountain near a small fishing town called Oadford. There is only one object in the world that allows anyone to randomly conjure up a dragon."

"The Emerald of Foundation," Grimey said, awestruck and mouth gaping open. "But how do you know where it is now?"

"Think about this, if someone created a dragon they'd have wanted to be nearby to control it, so they must have constructed some sort of house near the mountain Gordon lives in. We are certain that something must have happened to the owner, everyone who controls the Emerald dies. Which means...?" Gustavo sat back in his chair and folded his legs with a sigh, waiting for Grimey to realise what this meant.

"The Emerald must be at the top of the mountain now..." Gustavo said to himself, shocked by the discovery.

"There's more," Gustavo continued, his excitement growing by the second, "you remember the curse I told you about, and how only Houdazald knew the counter curse, passed down the generations for all these years?"

Grimey nodded in silence, knowing his commander better than to interrupt.

"Well I own an ancient looking hand written scroll which was left to me by my great grand-father containing just one single spell, one which I have never been able to make sense of, ever since I was a young child. That is, until a few weeks ago, when I traced Houdazald's family tree, months it took me, but I finally found a modern day relative." Gustavo got back to his feet and smiled smugly.

"I am the modern day relative. I have the counter curse which can unlock the true potential of this Emerald. I can use it in ways my ancestors dare not for fear of destroying this world," he stated, sheer pleasure oozing from every word.

Grimey saw a flicker of anger across Gustavo's face as he failed to realise just why this was so exciting, and wisely chose to sit silently – he had seen the removal of Gustavo's last chief goblin's head from his shoulders for little more than a bad joke.

"Let me ask you this," Gustavo continued, stroking his stubble and clearly enjoying himself now, "how many warriors do you think we have? Take a rough guess."

Grimey thought for a moment. They had been training new recruits day and night, and their numbers had increased enormously since the start of their alliance. The transformation had been dramatic, but even so, he knew that the force of Gustavo's army was restricted to large numbers of ill-disciplined goblins, with a few trolls, who, while he would not admit it, were proving to be more trouble than Grimey felt they were worth. Grimey cursed as his thoughts once again strayed to his brother, who would have been able to work the numbers out in a jot; he was the brains of the family.

"I'm not sure, two thousand maybe?"

"Closer than I expected, not a bad guess. Currently, we stand at just under two thousand five hundred, now do you think that's enough?" Gustavo voice was colder now. "You understand what we want to achieve. How many fighters do you think we need?"

"Well we're still training goblins and searching for trolls, so we obviously don't have enough at present," Grimey pondered out loud, playing with the single scrawny hair on his chin, "so at least three thousand. That should do it," he declared confidently.

"You were close before, but not this time." Suddenly, Gustavo started to shout, "Do you know how many men Drango had when he tried to take over the world? Fifteen thousand and he still failed. We will require a hundred thousand and we aren't even close. I am no closer to destroying Maximus, the other wizards and everyone else who stands in my way of world domination."

At last Grimey saw what it meant and realised why Gustavo was in such a good mood. For the first time in eight years, Gustavo's Chief Goblin laughed, and with it he roared six words.

"LOOKS LIKE WE'RE GOING TO OADFORD!"

Chapter Four

Stan found he could move much faster without Marvin slowing him down. He tried to push the worst thoughts from his mind, but this was made impossible by the cavern's deafening silence. There was no roar of a huge fire breathing dragon in pursuit of a young boy. No crashing as piles of gold tumbled to the floor, knocked by a running Edgar. His brother's singing and chanting had stopped, and Stan couldn't help but fear his brother had been permanently silenced. He thought back to the sound of Edgar mocking him as he failed to catch any fish the first time their father took them out on his little boat, causing him to cry all night at the taunts and smirk on his face. How he would love to be taunted by his brother now.

"You know Edgar, Stan", he muttered under his breath. "He'll be ok. He wouldn't pass up an opportunity to laugh at me."

He skimmed through the entry cave and surged through the door without hesitation, back into the enormous chamber. Now that the door had been opened, there was a slight gushing as the wind blew in and out, which somehow made the cavern even eerier.

Stan crept through the chamber, stepping around the gold he had gleefully played with earlier. He passed the stairs they'd tumbled down, and continued, past the spot where he'd tripped over Gordon's tail.

After nearly an hour scouring the cave without sign of Edgar or Gordon, Stan was bracing himself for the reality of having to give up when he spotted something out of the corner of his eye that made his heart drop. Slowly, as if scared of what he might view, Stan turned his head to the shadowed area of the lair, where the torch had somehow been extinguished. Lying just inside the dark area was what appeared to be worryingly similar to the shape of a body, strewn at a funny angle. Stan's stomach churned as he sprinted over towards the body, praying for it to be anything but what he feared it was.

As Stan approached, he noticed the singe marks on the wall, and as he breathlessly arrived at the body, his eyes confirmed what he had known all along. The body belonged to a boy, with a shaven head, a crooked nose and a deep scratch across his face, running from chin to ear.

Stan sunk to his knees, and felt his eyes welling up. Before he knew what was happening, his body was shaking, as he sobbed uncontrollably.

"Please Edgar, please wake up," Stan moaned through tears, shaking the body. "You have to wake up, we've got to leave, we aren't safe here!"

Forgetting where he was, Stan started to scream at his lifeless brother, begging him to wake up and calling out his name over and over again, pounding Edgar's chest with a clenched fist in despair.

"EDGAR! EDGAR WAKE UP NOW!"

Stan was brought back to his senses by the sound of gold crashing to the floor behind him. He turned to face his would be attacker, but to his relief saw that the pile of gold had fallen due to an entering bird clipping a gold tin, creating a mini avalanche of gold coins. Nevertheless, it was clearly time to go.

Stan squatted down and picked up Edgar's limp body, draping it over his shoulders. He struggled beneath the weight, but thoughts of leaving his brother's body were refused entry into Stan's mind. He slowly began to carry his brother out, carefully retracing his steps.

"Maximus will know what to do, he'll cure you. I'm taking you to him right now, don't you worry, he'll make you all better."

Hurrying to get his brother to help but having to be wary not to make noise and alert Gordon to his presence proved difficult for Stan. Furthermore, he was struggling with his brother's substantial weight. He was soon sweating and lost within the chamber, and was beginning to wonder whether he'd ever see the light of day again. It was while he pondered the notion of death within the vast cavern that he unexpectedly stumbled upon the Great Door.

Getting Edgar through proved difficult, as he was too wide to fit while hanging from Stan's back, so in the end Stan dropped him on the floor and dragged him through, determined not to leave his brother behind to be eaten by Gordon.

As he emerged into the sunlight, Stan saw Marvin sat where he'd left him. Behind him the sun had now risen fully, shining brightly over the lake and stretching out into the Great Sea in the distance, the sun glistening on the water.

Not that Stan noticed any of this.

"Marvin, come and help me, we need to get Edgar to Maximus, he's the only one who can save him," Stan said urgently.

"Are you sure he can be saved, he seems pretty dead?" Marvin replied, casting a wary glance at Edgar who had turned a ghostly pale.

"No, he can be saved, come on and help me, please," Stan begged.

Marvin took half of the weight of Edgar onto his shoulders and the two of them continued, not daring to turn back at the mountain for fear of seeing Gordon the Gruesome pursuing.

The boys flew down the mountain like a rabbit fleeing from a rapidly descending eagle, moving quickly and without any thought for falling. Miraculously, they managed to negotiate the descent without falling and breaking an ankle, despite the weight of Edgar draped around their shoulders. Furthermore, they had managed to escape without catching the attention of the repugnant dragon. The boys were sweating in the early morning heat, but after a while, a small hut became visible in the distance.

"Look, Stan there it is, we've made it!" The two boys diverted off of the main path, and descended into a thick bunch of trees, which blocked out the sun and sent a shiver down Stan's spine. They temporarily lost sight of the hut, but continued heading in the direction they'd seen it. Soon enough, the hut was back in sight, and the boys were descending a small hill to reach it, cutting through the shrubbery to speed up the journey.

The hut was small and made almost entirely of wood, with a petite metal chimney from which a flurry of smoke escaped. The windows were covered by curtains, but a light shone through from inside. The front garden contained overgrown plants and trees which blocked the path. The boys struggled through the overgrowth towards a small staircase, which they ascended, before Stan reached out and banged the grubby gold knocker on the wooden door.

"Are you sure he'll be able to help, Stan? This place is a bit... run down." Marvin whispered.

"We're here now, and everyone knows he's one of the best wizards alive. He's our best shot." Stan tried to come across as confident, but his tentative voice and trembling hands suggested otherwise. Edgar was his brother, and as mean as he was he always looked out for him.

They waited for over a minute, before Stan knocked on the door again, harder. He continued to do so, eventually resorting to kicking and thumping the door when still no one answered.

"It doesn't seem like anyone's in mate."

Stan brushed off Marvin's comforting hand and wheeled round, marching down the stairs and towards the back of the hut.

"He must be here somewhere, come on."

Once behind the hut, Stan came across a vegetable patch, where sure enough he found a large, old man. He was stooped over with his back to him, muttering to himself.

"Maximus, we need your help, my brother, he's been hurt!"

The old man ignored him, continuing to tend to what looked like a row of carrots.

"Maximus, please, he's been hurt badly!" Stan repeated, growing increasingly frustrated. Marvin hung back by the hut, unsure as to whether he should approach.

"Stan, he clearly doesn't want to be disturbed, maybe we should just leave?"

Stan spun round, and glared at his friend.

"I am not giving up on my brother. If we leave here we have no other options, nobody else who can help us. Get that into your stupid head," he shouted, before turning back to the old man, "hey you, stop looking after your carrots and come and help my brother now, why are you ignoring me?"

Stan grabbed the man on his shoulder and pulled him round, revealing a toothless mouth, one which formed part of a shrivelled, wrinkly face which bore a confused expression.

Stan had just enough time to register that it wasn't Maximus who was tending the carrots before the man punched him in the face, leaving Stan knocked out cold on the ground.
Chapter Five

"He'd be proud of you, you know that right?" a soft voice uttered. "Your first broken nose!"

Stan opened his eyes and saw a figure leaning over him, a woman. He thought it must be his mother, although that would mean he was dreaming, as she had died almost five years ago. The figure bent forwards to dab his face with a wet cloth. As she moved, the sun shone through the space she had been sat in and onto Stan's face, hurting his eyes. He closed them again.

"Edgar first came when he was a lot younger than you, but better late than never," the voice continued. As Stan grimaced from the pressure of her hand, she took the cloth away. "All done. The break was a nasty one though, you'll keep the scar for life most likely. My mother says so anyway, and she's very knowledgeable when it comes to these sort of things." Stan detected a hint of pretentiousness from the last part of the comment, and sensed his company was someone of high prestige, but let it pass.

Stan opened his eyes again as she leant back, more slowly this time, and he began to recognise objects in the room. There was an empty bed next to him, identical to the one he lay in. The walls were low; a tall person would need to stoop to stand without banging their head on the door, which reminded him of the room he and Edgar shared at home, with his brother always having to duck to fit in. The thought of his brother brought his mind back to life - his brother, the dragon, where was he?

Stan opened his mouth to speak, but found the back of his mouth too hoarse to do anything other than croak out air, unable to produce a sound.

"Here, drink this, it'll help," the unknown speaker added, pouring a glass of water to his lips, "you've barely drunk for days." Stan sipped at the water, swallowing as much as he could before he moved away.

"Days?" Stan asked, able to speak more clearly now, "how long have I been here for?"

"Well, today's Tuesday, and you were carried here on Friday," the girl paused to think, "So this is your fifth day here. I've been sat with you most of the time, you've been quite boring to be truthful; all you've done is sleep! Although you were given a medicine to make you sleep, apparently you needed the rest, so I guess it's not your fault!"

Stan swallowed some more water, managing himself this time. Her voice, he thought, I recognise it.

"My brother, where is he? When's he coming to see me, is he alright now?" he asked, hoping it was soon.

"Oh Stan," the girl started, unsure of how to answer, mopping sweat from his brow while she thought. "Your brother didn't make it. I'm so sorry"

"No," Stan mumbled, unsure of how to proceed, sitting up as he did so, "that can't be right. You must have the wrong person. Edgar is my brother, we took him to Maximus and he was going to save him!" Stan cried, his tone becoming desperate.

"He couldn't do anything Stan, I'm so sorry. He was too badly injured. They buried him this morning. They say the farewell was beautiful, but I stayed here with you," she added, turning away to compose herself.

Stan felt tears forming in his eyes, and slumped back into his bed, wishing he was simply in a nightmare from which he could wake. After losing their mother, Edgar was the one who was there to help him. He had got their lives back on track. When their father became retreated and silent, sitting in the corner staring out of the window all day, Edgar had been the one to go out and fish, to catch enough to feed them every day. Now he was gone.

He realised then that the reason the room felt similar to his and Edgar's was because he was in his own bed. Stan glanced over to the neighbouring bed, his brother's, with his extra thick duvet which he had stolen from Stan's bed during the winter. The two hadn't spoken for weeks afterwards, until Marvin had banged their heads together and made them forget about it. He smiled at the thought for a moment, until he remembered that his brother would never sleep in it again.

The girl stood and came round to sit on the edge of the bed. Stan turned his head to look at her, and began to make out more of her details. She was short, with big wide eyes and pointy, pixy like ears. Her most distinguishable feature though was her bright red hair, which flopped down to her shoulders. Only one girl in the whole of Oadford wore her hair like that.

"Roxie?" Stan asked, already aware of the answer.

"My Dad sent me to watch over you for the first night, and I couldn't leave you," and with that Roxie slowly broke down, tears streaming down her face. Her father was the Mayor, the man responsible for keeping Oadford running. She was Stan's age, and occasionally played with them down by the lake, although most of the time her father forbade it.

Stan sat up and held her, trying to comfort her.

"Roxie I'm ok now, everything will work out fine," he whispered in her ear, but before he could help himself he joined her in sobbing, the two of them holding each other tightly, not wanting to let go.

After a while they separated, and Roxie dabbed Stan's eyes dry.

"I need to go and see my father, to tell him you're awake. Promise me you won't go anywhere, you need to rest. Everyone is incredibly worried about you," Roxie said, wiping her own eyes dry while trying to force a smile. Before Stan could ask her to stay, she rose from the bed and edged her way out. Again she tried to smile to Stan as she left, but only managing a half-hearted mouth movement that ended up as more of a grimace.

As soon as she left Stan swung his legs over the bed, wincing with pain as he did so, his body aching all over. Stan pushed any thoughts of pain to one side; he had been cooped up in his room for several days, and he needed to get out for some fresh air.

Gripping onto his bed, he slowly and carefully pulled himself to his feet. To Stan's horror, he nearly collapsed to the floor, only able to prevent himself from doing so by grabbing the chair Roxie had vacated mere moments before. He cautiously dragged himself back up, and one painful step at a time he shuffled towards the door. With each step Stan grew in confidence, and he was soon out of the small house. He had crept carefully past the lounge, which he knew would contain his father, stooped over his window, drinking something foul.

As he emerged out of his front door, Stan took in a view he had seen hundreds of times before. Mrs Fitch's small wooden hut was opposite, where she was balancing atop a kitchen stool, plucking apples from a large tree in her front garden. A winding path led down to the small dock, where the men tied their boats overnight after a long day's fishing in the Great Sea. In the distance, the skyline was hidden behind a thick group of trees which marked the forest, which seemed to stretch on forever, and just beyond was Mount Smouldotion, which poked out over the treeline. The sight of the towering mountain sent a shiver running down Stan's spine, and for a moment he completely blocked out the noise of children running round with happiness in the street, as he thought of the events that had taken place there. This helped him decide where to go, and he headed for the Great Sea, before taking a sharp turning onto a small pathway. This took him down a steep slope, at the bottom of which sat the Walandik Lake. Normally the lake took Stan's breath away, but today he barely glanced at it as he trudged down the hill in the direction of the lone boy sat on the lake's far bank.

After half an hour or so, Stan reached the boy, who had seen him coming all the way but had not moved, either towards or away from him.

"I knew I'd find you here," Stan shouted as he continued to approach, his voice straining to be heard over the sound of the wind, "Marvin I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have called you names. I wasn't fair." Marvin carried on staring straight ahead, playing with a stone in his hands.

"I understand if you don't want to be my friend, I was horrible to you, and I never should have got you involved in the first place," Stan persevered, still shouting over the wind which had picked up out of no-where, "But I need you right now Marvin. You're my best friend, without you I am alone in this world. I've not got my brother or my mother, my father doesn't talk to me, Marvin please I need you!"

Stan sat down next to Marvin, and for the first time the plump boy turned to meet his eye.

"Stan you're my best friend, I'm here for you now and always will be," he replied, before hurling a stone into the lake.

"So why was Roxie the one in my room when I woke up, why not you?" Stan asked cautiously, as he watched the ripples created by the stone fade away.

"I've been by your bed every day, with Roxie, but I came down here after your brother's burial. I knew you'd find me here when you wanted me. This was the exact spot we launched our raft last summer. Do you remember? We'd been working on it all summer. And we got all the way across?" The boy smiled at the thought for a moment, before his face slumped back down into a frown.

"We'll be alright Stan. Your Dad's awful but one day, when we're old enough, we can just go. Me and you, we can pack up our things and get out of this place," Marvin said, with hope in his voice as he played with the grass.

Stan thought for a moment, before he offered Marvin his hand to help him up. When both boys were on their feet, Stan paused for a moment, before he said,

"Marvin, that sounds like the most perfect plan I've ever heard." He had no idea how it would work, where they would go, what they would do, but all that mattered was that he knew now that he wasn't alone, and never would be. With that thought in his head, Stan embraced his best friend, hugging him tightly while he gazed out over the lake towards the Great Sea. For the first time since they had left for Mount Smouldotion, Stan allowed himself to smile.

That was when the screaming started.
Chapter Six

Stan pushed Marvin away, turned and sprinted towards the screaming sound. In the background he heard Marvin shouting for him to wait, but he ignored it, knowing that he would slow him down. Stan was just a boy, and had no idea what he'd do when he arrived at the source of the screaming, but he continued to run, cursing the huge width of the lake as he ran round it.

As he got closer towards Oadford, he heard more screaming, coming from different directions, increasing in volume and size until as one it all stopped. If anything this was even more terrifying, with Stan unable to hear anything except his own breathing and the sound of his heart beating. All of a sudden, he was once more back in the cave, desperately searching through the blood chilling silence for his brother. Try as he might, Stan couldn't shake these thoughts off.

Soon, Stan reached the main path, and found himself once again running past Mrs Fitch's hut. Or where it had been. Stan paused to work out what had happened, but all that remained was a few wooden planks, from which smoke billowed. The apple tree had been destroyed, with only the basket of apples that were collected mere hours earlier still in the garden. As well as this, there were now no children running round, no happy screaming. Stan realised that it wasn't just Mrs Fitch's hut that now resembled smoke and ashes – it was all of them.

Upon the sight of this, Stan spun around, realising exactly where he stood, and turned to see his own hut, which was somehow largely intact. It looked rundown and like it had been trashed, with the garden a mess and the wood rotting. This resembled little change however, as it had looked like this for five years, ever since his mother's death. His father was too lazy to maintain the house, and while Stan and Edgar tried to, they were just boys, and couldn't do it all themselves. Cautiously, Stan made his way through the clutter in the garden and up the wooden steps, pushing the door, which opened with a loud creaking sound.

Inside was a mess, which didn't surprise Stan. He had been sleeping for the best part of the week, and with Edgar gone, there was nobody to clear up after their drunken father. Stan checked all of the rooms, which didn't take long, and saw that while some items were damaged or missing, most of the things were in the same condition in which he'd left them. The last room he checked was his and Edgar's. He paused outside the door, which had the two names carved into it, something their father had done after building the house, before he had turned to drink to cope with the loss of their mother. He smiled at the memory, before entering, and breathed a sigh of relief as he saw everything as it should be. He hastily crammed a few of the things which mattered most to him into a bag, in case whoever had done this decided to come back. He took his cloak, the small dagger his father had made for him, Edgar's belt and finally his mother's locket, which he retrieved from his pillow. She had given it to him when she had learned of her illness, and Stan slept with it in his hands every night. He carefully placed it inside his new belt, which he then tucked underneath his shirt, before turning and leaving.

As he left he realised he had not seen his father in the hut, which was strange. To Stan's surprise, he found himself hoping that nothing had happened to him. He obviously still meant something to him, Stan mulled, as he climbed a nearby tree to see over Oadford. From the top he saw that the entire town was covered by smoke, so much so that Lake Walandik, the Great Sea and even Mount Smouldotion were no longer visible in the distance.

From this vantage point, he could just about make out a group of people who had gathered outside what seemed to be the Mayor's large house, or what remained of it at least. He leapt down, before cautiously making his way through the burning wood and roofing towards where he thought the group were assembled. He realised that where there was once a path, a collection of random items from people's houses now lay, strewn randomly on the floor. He could make out a doll, which had been burnt and was now black all over. He saw clothes and cutlery, books and flowers, all of which were torn or burnt or melted, or damaged in some way.

As he walked closer towards the large group of people, he heard shouting, too muffled to make out words but clearly there. He rounded a group of huts and came out into the open, where he saw the crowd, shaking their fists and arguing with each other, while the mayor, stood on top of a barrel, tried to maintain order. It was a scene unlike anything else Stan had ever witnessed, and it made him sad to see so many people who he had grown up around arguing and angered. He saw Mrs Fitch and Mrs Jones crying in a corner, while Farmer Mcghee, the elderly man who Marvin and Stan sometimes stole milk from, was making his point as loudly as anyone else, despite being twice the age of most people.

Stan pushed his way past people on the outside of the crowd, trying to get to the centre to find out what had happened. As he walked past people, they would stop shouting and start to whisper and point, something which Stan failed to notice. As he reached the centre of the circle, the crowd fell into near silence, until one red faced, angry man pointed at him and roared,

"THERE HE IS!"

As one, the other angry villagers turned to shout and point at Stan, as they crowded round and yelled abuse at him.

"TRAITOR!"

"HOW COULD YOU? YOU'VE LOST US EVERYTHING!"

Behind them, the mayor called for silence, but he was either not heard or completely ignored. Stan stumbled and fell to the ground, and everyone circled in around him, crowding over him and shouting. The bigger, angrier men spat as they shouted, and Stan found himself covered in saliva. Kicks were aimed down on him, and looking up he could see nothing but angry faces. The vast number of people blocked the sun out, and even the billowing smoke became temporarily obscured.

Stan could feel himself slipping back into a dream, until suddenly he felt two large hands pick him up and put him on a pair of large shoulders. The man, his saviour, barged people out of the way, brushing them aside as if they weren't even there. Stan's head spun in haziness from the kicks and noise, and he couldn't work out who it was that had saved him. He clung to the man's shoulders, scared that if he fell back into the crowd he might never come back out. The man carried him over to the mayor, and placed him down beside him on his barrel, out of danger's way.

The crowd continued to shout and throw objects, until Roxie, who had remained unnoticed next to her father until now, banged the attack drum and screamed for silence.

With the crowd finally silenced, the mayor turned to Stan and beckoned for him to stand.

The mayor was old, and had been in charge of Oadford for as long as anybody could remember, but nobody complained as he did a reasonably good job. He was short, but still towered over Stan, and his big, blue eyes normally sparkled, kindly. Today, however, there was no sparkle, which scared Stan. He looked over towards Roxie, but she wouldn't meet his eye.

"Boy," the mayor started, "do you realise what you have done?" The Mayor peered over the edges of his glasses to look at Stan.

Stan tried to open his mouth to tell him that he didn't, but all that came out was a nervous croak. Once again the back of his throat had dried up, and in the end all he could manage only a shake of his head.

"The town is in ruins. Houses have been destroyed. Crops and fields have been burnt. Our animals have been eaten or taken from us." From this short a distance, Stan could see tears starting to form in the Mayor's eyes.

"Everything we have built over the past hundred or so years is gone." The mayor said, completely without expression.. He removed his wig and wiped sweat from his forehead. He leaned down to talk to whisper in Stan's ear.

"Boy, I used to be a lot like you. I loved adventure. I used to swim out in the Great Sea, try to catch a fish with my bare hands. I used to climb on top of buildings, jump between them. But then I grew up, because it was what I needed to do. I had responsibilities."

He stood back up, and shouted for the crowd to hear,

"You too have responsibilities. You have suffered great personal loss these past few years, and you have had to look after yourself. You should have learnt how to fish, build, farm, anything, to keep you and your family safe and to continue the development of your village. But you didn't grow up, and you have caused your town great harm. You have destroyed us!"

With this the crowd began to roar again, shouting at him and throwing things.

"I don't understand, what have I done?" Stan murmured, finding his voice again.

The mayor looked at him in disgust, and uttered five words that Stan would never forget, that made everything clear to him. The anger towards him, the destruction of the town, all of it made sense.

"You have awoken the beast."

Stan's face and heart dropped, as he realised that everything he saw before him was his fault.

"I-I-I-I.. I didn't mean to. I'm so sorry, I can make this right,"

"YOU'RE JUST A BOY! WHAT CAN YOU DO TO MAKE ANYTHING RIGHT?" An angry watcher screamed, which led to a hoard of angry fisherman roaring in agreement, raising their fishing poles or nets to the sky.

"They're right Stan, I'm sorry. You have awoken Gordon the Gruesome, and the last time that happened we were attacked by him every year, every time we thought we were getting back on our feet. There is nothing that can be done," the mayor replied, "You have ruined us."

"STAN! STAN HELP ME!" A familiar voice cried.

Stan flung round to see his best friend being carried by four angry fishermen towards the mayor, each one supporting one of his flabby limbs.

"You put him down," Stan yelled, "NOW! Mayor make them stop, please! He's scared, can't you see?"

The mayor and the men ignored Stan's cries, and only the restraint of the mayor prevented him from surging forwards to help. Eventually, the fisherman placed Marvin next to Stan.

Stan flung his arms around Marvin once again, as he had done earlier by the lake, only this time there were no smiles. The reunion was short lived however, as the mayor turned to look at them, and with a crooked frown and wrinkled forehead, and the expression of a man with all of the weight of the world on his shoulders, said,

"Boys I'm sorry, but I must banish the two of you from Oadford for life. You are to leave at once."
Chapter Seven

The next hour or so passed by in a blur. Stan and Marvin were separated and escorted to their houses by several burly farmers and guards, and given a few minutes to pack their possessions. The walk there had passed in slow motion and at the same time felt like it had lasted just seconds.

Stan didn't know how to feel or what he was going to do. He heard whispers and saw pointing as he walked through the streets, but his mind was too filled with questions to take any of it in. Where was he going to go? What would he do? Was his father angry?

The last of those questions was answered as he walked through his door for what he assumed to be the last time, and saw his father sat in his rocking chair. The instant he saw Stan, he shot up and embraced him for the first time in years. Stan felt tears rolling down his neck and tried to wipe his eyes, but found them dry and realised they were not in fact his tears. That made everything seem more real, and suddenly Stan too found himself crying, his body shaking. The moment felt like it lasted an eternity, but eventually his father pulled away and squatted down to look him in the eye.

"This isn't your fault at all Stan, never blame yourself," he braved, trying to force a smile. "You and Marvin, you look after each other. You're good together. Now you go to my brother's, your Uncle Eli in Tristep. He'll look after you, he'll get you a job in one of the castles and you'll be alright."

Stan stepped back and took a few moments to take in the information.

"But who's going to look after you, Dad?" Stan's eyes began to well up again at the realisation of the fact that his Dad had lost both of his sons within a few days of each other, and his wife just years before.

"I'll be alright mate, who knows, maybe one day I'll come and visit you and my big brother, it's about time I laughed at that stupid voice of his!" That made them both laugh, but Stan knew deep down that he would never have the time or money to travel halfway across the kingdom to come and visit him.

In the background, a guard cleared his throat in an unnecessarily loud and obvious manner, clearly indicating their time together was coming to an end.

They both glared at him, causing the guard to blush and look away.

"Here, I've put your things together for you," he continued, handing Stan a bag of clothes, "and I've packed you food and a few extras. Come here and I'll show you," urging his son towards a table.

On the table were several items Stan hadn't ever known to have existed, and he was momentarily bemused, and turned to look at his father, questioningly. For on the table was a large bottle of whisky, a larger, circular shield with a weird looking lion on the front and most surprisingly of all, a small but deadly looking sword, which glistened as the sun shone on it.

"Erm, Dad...?"Stan questioned, unsure as to where to begin.

"The sword's your Grandfather's, my old man's, he fought in the Battle of Gildyhorn with it and it didn't do too badly for him there. It might be small, but that's an advantage, it means it can squeeze into spaces that a larger sword couldn't. It's lighter too, means you won't get as tired using it." He ducked as he said this, as Stan spun the sword round in his hand before dropping it to the floor with a loud clunk.

"Yes, maybe practise with it too. The shield isn't amazing quality but again it got your Grandfather through Gildyhorn so it should be good enough for you!"

"But Dad, why would I need these?" Stan asked, looking confused.

"Stan," His father began in a suddenly very serious tone, "Oadford is an isolated, lonely village. We don't bother anyone and they don't bother us. Out there, there are creatures and enemies you couldn't even begin to imagine. Now I'm sure you'll be fine but just in case, I don't want my only remaining son unarmed. You stay clear of the main path, that's what the looters and goblins use. But at the same time don't stray too far, or you'll never find your way."

Stan went cold all of a sudden, and his father's stare made him feel uneasy.

"Yeah, but that's not gonna happen right?"

"No Stan, you're going to be just fine. Just remember what I said, stay clear of the main path and trust NO-BODY."

"I got it Dad," Stan replied, as he placed the sword back into its sheath and strapped it on, "But what's the whisky for, don't you think I'm a little young?"

"No Stan it's for cuts, pour it over an open wound and it'll stop infection from setting in," his father replied, laughing, "You can use it to help you light a fire too. Although that might not be a great idea, it'll make you stick out like a sore thumb. If there's still some left when you arrive, give it to Eli, and don't you dare touch a drop of it!"

Again the guard cleared his throat, this time much more definitively, and Stan knew his time was up. He gave his father one final embrace, before strapping on his bag and turning to leave.

As he did so, he couldn't help but notice the drinks cabinet, completely bare. Stan turned back, startled.

"That's the last bottle I'm ever buying, so you make sure you don't lose it!" His father said, with a cheeky wink, slipping his hands into his pockets.

With that, the guards hooked their arms around Stan's and escorted him down the stairs, towards the village gates. Stan knew better than to resist, but tried desperately to turn back, for one last glimpse of his home, but the guards were too strong, and forced him away.

The crowd had thinned considerably by now, but there was still a good number who had gathered to ensure the two boys left the village for good.

Stan saw Marvin, trying unsuccessfully to hold back his blubbers and resorting to wiping his eyes and nose with his sleeve. To the left, a large man whom Stan knew to be Marvin's father held his wife, whose usually cheery face gazed absently into the distance, all the colour drained from it. The mayor was mid-conversation when he spotted Stan's arrival, and quickly broke away to come over to him, urging over Marvin too.

"Boys," he said, bending down and lowering his voice to speak at a level only they could hear, "I hate that things have come to this, but I have no alternative. You have ruined our livelihood; because of your actions many more lives may be ended. If anything I am sending you out for your own safety, as there will certainly be attempts on your lives if you stay here. This is the only choice."

With this Marvin let a sob slip out, and the Mayor glared at him before leaning to Stan's ear to whisper.

"Stan, don't tell Marvin this but the roads are dangerous. I see you have a sword, practise with it, for you're going to need it. I always knew you had something about you, you know, and I hate that I won't get to see your potential blossom. I hope it is enough to see you through this passage safely."

Stan nodded and cleared his throat, trying to take in the warning both his father and mayor had given him.

"Boys," the Mayor exclaimed as he stood up, loudly now for all to hear, "this was once your home. But it is no longer. You are hereby banished for all of time, and trespassing onto the lands of Oadford will result in death. Leave us now, and never return!"

The crowd began to cheer and shout at them, and the guards shoved them through the gate which slowly began to close behind them. Stan turned back in time to see his father watching from a distance, but before he could wave a final goodbye the crowd had formed a barrier between them, to drive the boys out.

As they left, the Mayor chuckled to himself, thinking 'unless you find a way to beat that darn dragon', before turning back to begin addressing the crisis his village found itself in.

Chapter Eight

When night fell in the forest, it fell fast, and the forest came to life. In every direction there was a skittering noise, a screeching as an owl swooped down to claim its prey, a snap of a twig as an animal prowled over it.

Marvin and Stan discovered this to their terror within an hour of leaving Oadford, as they entered the large, misty forest which made the woods they had stumbled through to reach Maximus' hut look pathetic by comparison. Through the middle was a clear path, twisting and turning with tree roots sticking out of the ground at all angles, and fallen branches blocking parts of it entirely. The trees reached up to the sky, looming over anything else within site. They were warped and thick, blocking out almost any light which penetrated the thick layers of fog during daylight.

Marvin had been scared enough taking the path, but had nearly broken down when Stan told him of the warning his father had issued him, and forced them off of the main path and into the thick overgrowth, which was heavily populated with trees, bushes and nettles. Stan had required all of his persuasive power to keep Marvin moving in an attempt to cover as much ground as possible, ignoring scratches at his ankles and pulling his friend up when he tripped. Finally, after several hours of trekking, Stan conceded defeat and camped up, as even he was beginning to stumble on the treacherous ground.

They camped up by an eerie lake, and huddled together to conserve heat, as Stan would not permit the lighting of a fire, in case it attracted any unwanted attention. He pulled out a fish he had cooked a few days previously, the last meal he had shared with his brother, Stan reflected, and pulled off some of the flesh, which he shared with Marvin. It was the first time since the shocking revelations of the day that either of them had stopped and really took in what had occurred.

"Stan, we're going to be alright aren't we?" Marvin asked hesitantly.

"Yes, Marvin, now eat that fish, it's awful I know but we need to keep our energy up, we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow," Stan replied, returning to his own fish, swiftly changing the topic of conversation to prevent his friend from dwelling on the subject, one he himself did not even dare consider.

"I wonder what Tristep will be like, my Mother always told me it was beautiful, particularly in the summer, apparently there's a big natural spring which is just lovely to bathe in," Marvin licked his fingers as he spoke, and Stan noticed that he had finished his fish, so offered him more of his.

"Yes, that sounds lovely, I'm sure we'll be just fine there, my Uncle Eli is a good man, he will make sure we are taken care of." Part of what Stan said was true, as he did indeed believe his Uncle to be caring and loving, although he hadn't seen him since he was too little to remember. He too had heard of the natural spring and its past beauty, but knew now that it was polluted with infections and disease, after the dead had been dumped there after some battle or other.

After that there was silence for a while, and eventually the boys squeezed under their winter coats and tried to get some sleep, although on the hard, uncomfortable ground Stan knew that to be an impossible outcome. Marvin on the other hand had no such troubles, and as soon as he began to snore, Stan slipped out and unsheathed his sword, wandering into the forest to find a suitable tree to pose as an opponent.

He soon found one. It had a disfigured shape, with a large, twisted hollow which almost looked like a mouth, and long, protruding branches which could pass for arms.

' _Concentrate Stan, that's it, sword hand forward, other arm out for support, yes this feels right. Here he comes, duck right, yes, jab left, got him, he's coming on the left DUCK! Woahhhh that was close, step left, weave under the arm, jab in the back ,arghhh two at once, jump and swoop left into the neck, pivot, stab to the right, yes.'_

Stan continued for what felt like hours, ducking and weaving and jabbing at the tree, until he collapsed to the floor, sweating and panting. At one point he had thought he'd heard something, almost a giggling sound, but he had investigated the entire area and found nothing. After that he was more careful, and placed a trip wire formed out of fallen branches, rope he had found in his bag and a bell he'd found deep inside a bush, buried within it somehow. He had cut up his entire hand trying to retrieve it, but it was worth it, as he felt much more secure afterwards.

He stumbled back to Marvin, crawled under the coat and closed his eyes. His friend barely moved a muscle as he got under the coat, and despite everything, Stan somehow found himself smiling. It was after all just hours before that the two of them had discussed wanting to run away. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, Stan thought, as he drifted into sleep with the smile still etched upon his face.

Several hours later he awoke, and to his surprise the moon was still out, and something was prodding him in the back. He rolled over, to see Marvin shaking and trying to stutter words out. He was a wreck and the words that came out were nothing more than gibberish, and Stan had no idea what he was trying to say. Moments later though, all became clear, as voices became audible from across the lake. The tone was low and mumbled, so Stan couldn't work out the words, but he knew that the voices were heading in their direction.

Stan grabbed Marvin by his collar, dragged him up and pulled him towards the forest as quickly as he could. The boys scrambled up a ridge and dove into a large hole which led underneath a particularly big tree. The hole smelt of excrement and was most likely made by a badger, and could still be harbouring one now, but Stan knew that he would much rather face that than whatever was moving around the lake towards them, and so beckoned Marvin further into the set.

"Stan, who are they?" Marvin asked, whimpering nervously.

"I'm not sure, I'm going to go and check, you wait here." Stan replied, turning to leave before looking back and adding, "and don't come out, for any reason whatsoever this time." Stan scurried out of the hole and slipped around behind a bush which was blossoming with gooseberries, nestled within sharp branches, ready to slice open any unwitting traveller seeking a sugar fill. Stan was secretly relieved to be away from Marvin for the moment, as he would have been scared and hanging off of him like a lost puppy had he come back out. Stan quickly ascended a sturdy looking tree, searching for crooks and crannies as he climbed higher and higher until he had the perfect view of the moonlit lake.

He saw now that there was a group of four creatures curving around the lake. They were still muttering away to each other, and the sight of them gave Stan a nasty gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach. The lake was vast, and he could not see the far bank, which the visitors had been forced to circle around. The group of four seemed to be small, simple beings, Stan reflected as they approached closer. The pack suddenly stopped, just metres away from Stan's tree, and he realised they had come across the patch where he and Marvin had been sleeping just minutes before. Stan sent a silent prayer out to his friend, grateful for the warning that could have saved their lives. Stupidly, he hadn't thought to get rid of their fish bones, something the creatures were quick to notice, with one squatting down to the ground to examine the scene. As he did so, a thick, curved blade became visible beneath the creature's tunic. The individual who had bent to closely look at the bones stood back up, and relayed his findings to the group, hurriedly. When he had finished talking, one of listeners let out a long, loud crackle of laughter, which sent shivers through Stan's body.

More terrifyingly, it confirmed what he had suspected. Stan had never seen a goblin, but Edgar had spoken of them, not that he had ever seen one either. He claimed that they ate their prey alive, ripping its limbs off and making the victim watch as they ate it. He had claimed that they drank their victim's blood, and could behead a man with nothing other than a bite. Now there were four, just metres away from him. He thought of Marvin and hoped he hadn't been stupid enough to follow him. He wanted to head back to reassure his friend, but there was nothing he could do without being seen.

As the goblins pieced together what had happened, they began to become more excited, allowing Stan to hear their conversation.

"Oo juicy human, I love me a live one, oh yes!" One snarled, licking his lips.

"We need to go and seek them out, the bones aren't even a little frosty, they can't have been left here more than a few hours!" Another yelled, jumping up and down in excitement.

"A couple of hours? They could have gone several miles in any direction in that time, there are only 4 of us, we'll never make it to the meet in time, we need to keep moving," A third grunted, leading to shouting and hissing from the first two.

"Maybeeee we'll carve you open instead then, you're a scrawny little thing but you'd still be better than these darn nutssssssss!"

"If we want a proper meal we'll skin your puss filled skin, eat your flesh and boil your bones into a lovely broth, that's what I say we do if we need to eat!" The third goblin replied.

"Over my dead body," the second interrupted, "You leave my brother alone. I'm gonna have you!" With this the three goblins started to scratch and claw at one another, cannoning into each other and wrestling to the ground.

"ENOUGH!" Bellowed the fourth goblin in a deeper voice, who until now had remained silent. "Gregor is right, we must keep moving. When we help win the war for Gustavo we will have all the human flesh we could ever dream of, all the humans will bow to us and we will do whatever we choose."

The goblins stopped fighting and turned to look at their companion, who Stan could sense a clear sense of authority from.

"Well..." One began, hesitantly, "That's all well and good. But how exactly are we going to win this war? Goblins don't win anything, and even if we did there are nowhere near enough of us!" He strolled up to the leader, more confidently now. "I don't really fancy trekking all the way to Gustavo, to go and fight in Gustavo's war, so this wizard I don't know can rule the world. What I fancy, pal, is to find these filthy humans and devour them!" By the end of his last sentence he was frothing with anticipation of his meal, and Stan could see the gleam in his eyes.

"Those who fail to answer the great wizard's call will regret it," the leader replied calmly, strolling towards the brave goblin who had dared to speak back, "right up until the moment when he burns down their entire village!" With this he flicked out a leg behind the goblin to trip him, and shoved him to the ground.

Breathing heavily, the leader prowled over, before placing his foot on the chest of the now terrified looking goblin, who tried frantically to squirm away, but to no avail.

"Gustavo has summoned us to help him collect the Emerald of Foundation, a mystical stone which gives the holder powers to create or build anything they desire. When we retrieve it for him, he will have the ability to build an enormous army, one capable of world domination," the leader exclaimed, puffing out his chest in pride, "and we will be part of it. Now, the only question is, will there be four of us joining his party, or three?"

With this he gave the goblin a stern, cold look, and drew his knife from its sheath, pressing the cold blade against the neck of the worming creature beneath him.

In the treetops, Stan gasped, shocked at the violence unveiling beneath him. What happened next though sent a chill down his spine. As far beneath him and slightly to his left, he heard a quiet, yet clearly audible, scream.

_Marvin!_ Stan thought, before rapidly turning back to see whether or not the goblins had heard. They too had all turned to look in that direction and Stan saw the grounded goblin shove his leader away and get to his feet, before scurrying towards the noise, closely followed by companions, including even the leader.

"We're eating human tonight boys!" The leader bellowed, pounding his chest as he ran.

Stan quickly scuttled down the tree, knowing he had to get to his friend before the goblins did. He dropped from as high a distance as he dare and landed in a gathering of fallen leaves. This softened his fall, but even so he was winded and shaken up when he rose to his feet. He pushed these thoughts aside and sped towards where he had left Marvin, unsure as to where the goblins now were.

All Stan could hear was the pounding of his own heart, with even the howling of the goblins gone from his mind. He sped around trees and threw himself into the hole in which he had left Marvin, but to his horror his friend was nowhere to be seen. Stan crawled back out and looked all around, desperately searching for some sort of clue as to where his friend may have disappeared to. In the distance he heard a scream of anger and something about a fox but didn't properly process it, turning instead towards the direction from which he had heard the original noise, withdrawing his sword and bracing himself for the worst.

More slowly now, Stan crept forwards, keeping the forest and where he knew the goblins to be on his left hand side at all times, while he headed back towards the lake. He ducked from tree to tree, hoping that Marvin had thought to return to their campsite. Whispers behind him told Stan that the goblins were heading in the same direction, so he hurried into a quick, crouched jog, all the while looking behind him to check for the goblins emerging from behind the tree.

Suddenly, Stan felt something beneath his feet, and he lurched forwards, flying headfirst onto the ground. Simultaneously he heard a high pitched ringing noise, almost like a small bell...

His heart sunk when he realised he had been tricked by the booby trap he himself had set up just hours earlier, tripping over the wire he had stretched around their camp. He heard excited screams and growls coming ever closer at a great speed, and had no time to return to his feet before the goblins too were in the clearing and spotted him.

Instantly the four fanned out in different directions, quickly surrounding Stan and closing in.

"Why hello there boy, what's your name? Just drop your sword and come over to me, we're not going to hurt you," the goblin he had earlier identified as the leader said, stepping forwards.

"EY? Yeah we are, I'm gonna skin him myself, just you watch!" Growled the goblin who had been close to death just moments earlier, spitting at Stan and licking his lips as he did so.

The leader sighed, shaking his head to himself at the ineptitude of his companion, before unsheathing a dagger and pointing it towards Stan, and growling the words,

"Get him boys!"

The thickest goblin, who had foiled their plan into tricking Stan to trust them, was first to surge forwards, unsheathing a curved sword which was blunt but still perfectly capable of causing some major damage, Stan noted. His face was contorted in pleasure and anger, but suddenly turned into one of confusion, quickly followed by a collapse to the floor. Stan was as confused as the goblin, until he heard a whistling noise and saw an arrow thud into the skull of a second goblin.

The remaining two goblins started to panic, and looked around in desperation, trying to find the source of the attack.

Whoooooosh

Another arrow flew through the air, closely followed by another. Both were aimed at the third goblin, he who had been named Gregor, and both found their target, leaving him crumpled into a heap on the floor. One final arrow flew towards the now seriously depleted group, and it landed right between the eyes of the lead goblin. Fortuitously for him, he had the sense to wear a helmet, and the arrow had struck his nose guard at the point where it attached to his helmet. He bellowed a laugh into the air, yanking the arrow out and snapping it in half with shocking brutality. His laughter was cut short abruptly by a flurry of arrows, each landing on a different part of his body, and within seconds he too was slumped on the ground, along with his recently deceased companions. Stan scanned the treetops, relieved at the timing of the help, but also terrified, fearing that this new enemy may be even deadlier than those he had been previously facing.

The arrows had all come from the same area of the treeline, but Stan saw nothing. He pulled himself to his feet, and nervously backed away, towards the lake.

Whooooosh!

Another arrow came flying from the trees, this time heading straight for Stan, who stood rigid to the spot in fright. Mercifully, the arrow landed at his feet, but before he could turn and run, another came soaring towards him, this time landing just inches to his left. These two arrows were quickly followed by several more, until Stan was completely surrounded by fallen arrows, lodged in the ground, all at the exact same angle. Following this there was complete silence, which somehow scared Stan even more than the growling and howling of the goblins had done.

Suddenly he heard the ringing of a bell, and realised that his attacker come saviour had crossed the rope. Stan knew he should run, but he was also intrigued as to who had come to his rescue. Additionally, he knew that running was pointless, as he would be felled by an arrow before he made it half way to the treeline.

All at once, Stan noticed that he was soaking wet. At first he was confused, wondering what had happened. It was only when he noticed the ripples in the lake that he realised that it was raining, heavily. His fear and apprehension during and after the attack had clearly distracted him. Stan glanced back towards the trees, and collapsed to the floor in sheer terror, as he saw two figures emerging from the mist, heading directly towards him.
Chapter Nine

Blood. Sweat. Adrenalin. The smell of the three filled the air, and Grimey loved it. He was stood on a large pillar, raised above the ground, allowing him to see across the fields. All he could see before him was goblins. Impatient, blood thirsty goblins, all of whom were ready for battle. Finally all of the goblins had been united, come together to fight for one cause. Grimey unsheathed his curved, banana shaped sword and thrust it in the air, roaring as he did so. His call was met by the thousands.

Several higher ranked goblins bellowed out orders, and the goblins began to march.

Grimey slipped away into the shadows and climbed up the winding tower atop which Gustavo lived, and opened the door, knowing his master was waiting for him. Sure enough he was there, gazing out of the window to observe his army's departure. Grimey sensed an air of excitement, and knew that his words of caution had been ignored.

"I will leave shortly, we will catch the body of our troops within a day, Grimey you will accompany me," he said, without turning away from his window, hands behind his back and drink by his side, as if he was watching a simple ball sport which he found mildly amusing.

"Mighty wizard, this is not wise," Grimey croaked, "the road is dangerous, and there may be others who seek the Emerald."

"Enough of this," snapped Gustavo, turning away from his window. "I don't want to hear of it again; I'm going and that is final. I am the only one who knows how to end the curse. I will not leave the fate of my destiny in the hands of some half-witted, filthy GOBLIN," he bellowed, breathing heavily and turning back to his window.

Grimey didn't feel emotion, but even he felt slightly hurt by this comment, although he made sure not to allow his expression to show this.

"For too long I have waited for this moment, sat in the shadows as other, less gifted wizards decided the fate of our kingdom, letting them take the limelight, but that ends soon. When we get that Emerald we will be unstoppable, and I will burn to the ground every last wizard, and anyone else who is even remotely a threat to my cause! I saw you watching the goblins out there, you were impressed. Let me tell you something Grimey," he added, raising an eyebrow as a smirk spread across his face "... you've seen nothing yet."

Gustavo was right; Grimey had been impressed by what he had seen. He had been around goblins all of his life, and he had never seen them so coherent, so disciplined, so willing to obey.

"Times are changing," Grimey started, "the era of man is coming to an end. This new era will be beautiful, mighty and magnificent. The time of the goblin is now!"

Gustavo chuckled, still staring out of his window, eyes following the flames of torches being used beneath him as they moved away.

"You are very right, my friend. Now go, be gone, sharpen your sword, slay a goat, do whatever it is you animals do before a battle!" He turned, looking at Grimey deep in the eyes, to the point where the goblin noticed a sparkle deep within his cold, dark eyes.

"We've got an emerald to go get!"

Grimey nodded in reply, turned and left, allowing himself a rare, wry smile as he did so.
Chapter Ten

Stan scrambled desperately in an attempt to haul himself up and put some distance between him and his assailants, but found his fingers clutching at nothing but weak weeds which pulled loose from the ground as he grabbed at them. The figures loomed closer, and he soon became able to make out more detail on them. One was substantially taller than the other, an athletic looking man with hair down to his shoulders and a bow around his chest. Alongside him was a shorter, fatter man, struggling to keep up with the ferocious marching pace set by his slimmer companion.

The realisation of how close the duo were provided Stan with the extra strength to pull himself to his feet, and he turned to sprint away. As he did so, an arrow thudded into the ground beside him, closely followed by another. Stan had seen first-hand just how deadly the archer was, and knew that if he wanted him dead, he would be. The message was clear – stay where you are. Stan wiped his sweaty palms on his trousers, and waited for what felt like a lifetime for the pair to reach him.

When they finally did, Stan inhaled sharply in shock, before bursting into nervous laughter and giggles of relief. For the two were not his enemy or death, but his saviours. The figure he had taken a as a slim man was in fact a young adolescent female, one whom he had spent endless numbers of days trying to escape the attentions of at school. Had it been light, Stan would have recognised the bright red hair of Roxanne, the Mayor's daughter, in a heart-beat.

"I never thought I'd say this," Stan started, after a long bout of laughter, "but goodness I am glad to see you!"

This made Roxanne grin from ear to ear, something she was always doing. It was one of the things Stan had found most irritating about her, but at this moment he really couldn't think of anything he'd rather be looking at. Meanwhile, hobbling along after her was Marvin, his face as a red as Roxanne's hair and as sweaty as Stan's palm from the effort of keeping up.

Stan side stepped Roxanne and embraced Marvin, relieved to be with his friend once again. As much as he slowed him down and could be infuriating, Stan realised that he found his presence reassuring.

"What in the name of the God's just happened? Why did you come out of your hiding place, you were supposed to stay there!" Stan hissed at his friend.

"I did stay there Stan, really!"

"No, I heard you, I heard you scream when you came looking for me and saw the goblins." Stan was annoyed that Marvin wouldn't just admit that he'd made a mistake, especially as this was all he ever seemed to do.

Roxanne chuckled away to herself in the background. Stan spun around to face her.

"What's so funny?"

"Oh, you haven't worked it out, hahaha, oh this it too funny, sorry," Roxanne was snorting with laughter, and was forced to bend over and reach down to a tree stump to support herself, as her body was shaking such that she could have tumbled over.

Stan turned to Marvin with a confused look on his face, but Marvin simply shrugged.

Stan was beginning to lose his temper, and quickly forgot the fact that his friends had just saved his life. He grabbed Roxanne and thrust her into the tree.

"Stop that laughing and tell me what I haven't worked out Roxanne, NOW!" Stan roared, his face bright red in frustration.

Roxanne finally stopped laughing, and composed herself.

"Well, it's just that Marvin is, uhm, well he's telling the truth. He stayed in his hiding place, I was watching and he never left. Well not until I went down to get him, that is."

Stan stepped back in confusion, and released his grip on her. Roxanne slumped down, and brushed herself off. Meanwhile Stan was pacing the ground, trying to make sense of what he was being told.

"So if it wasn't Marvin I heard, who was it?" Stan started to panic, wondering whether there was a third party hiding, still somewhere in the forest. Even now, they could be watching them, and waiting for the right moment to pounce. "We need to leave, now, come on Marvin, it's not safe." He began to head back to camp to gather up his things, but he hadn't got five steps before Roxanne shouted,

"It was a fox you dingbat!"

Baffled, Stan spun round to face Roxanne, a look of bewilderment on his face.

"You heard a fox screaming, you know, like a fox does? That was what the goblins heard too. If you had just stayed in your hiding place, everything would've been fine and they'd have moved on. Probably killed each other knowing goblins! It was YOUR mistake Stan."

Roxanne was breathing heavily now, and seemed to have more to get off of her chest. Warily, Stan edged towards her, arms outstretched as a sign of peace.

"So where do you fit into it?" He asked, nervously.

"I saw the goblins head towards you from my treetop," she started, more calmly, "once they surrounded you I headed down, fetched Marvin, and came back to save you.

Stan turned to Marvin, who nodded to confirm that the red headed girl was telling the truth.

This created more questions than it provided answers for Stan, who spluttered over his "I'm still confused, why are you even here? We were banished, remember?"

"That's exactly why I'm here," Roxanne replied, frustrated, "you couldn't have looked after yourself on the road, you're too weak and naïve. Don't you dare deny it, tonight has proven that," she snapped as Stan started to complain.

"I have been following you, from a distance, and was going to do so until you reached your Uncle's. My father disapproved of my hunting so I used to come out here to practise; I know this forest like the back of my hand."

It all started to fall into place for Stan; the giggles he had heard earlier in the night must have been Roxanne.

"It was you wasn't it," Stan gasped, pointing an accusational finger, "You were watching me earlier?"

Roxanne's smile returned to her face, smirking as she remembered the scene. "Oh yes I did, that was funny! You really are truly awful with that sword!"

"Stop. That's not fair, I've never practised before."

"You have a sword?" Marvin chirped. Stan and Roxanne both looked startled, having temporarily forgotten about their friend.

"Yes, he does and he is terrible with it! I can teach you both if you want?"

Before Stan had the chance to give a resounding no, Marvin had squealed 'oo yes please!' Stan sighed and nodded in agreement.

"Excellent, I'll teach you on the way to your Uncle's, you'll be a dab hand by the time you arrive! Also, Stan, if you're going to walk around with a shield strapped to your back, you might want to actually take it off to use it when you're being attacked?"

"No you won't." Stan said, a thin smile spreading across his face, as he ignored the jape about the shield.

"What do you mean," Roxanne asked, confused, "you literally just agreed to it?" She glanced over to Marvin and mouthed, 'this guy is weird'.

"You can teach us, sure." Stan shrugged off the jokey insult and smiled. "But it won't be on the way to my Uncle's".

"Well then where? Sorry to disappoint but once you're at your Uncle's I am gone! I don't wanna linger there, people say there are ghosts!"

"I don't want to linger there either, not for a day, not for a night. That's why we're going back to Oadford, come along, the sooner the better!" With this Stan turned back towards the forest and re-entered, striding determinedly in the direction he thought Oadford might be in.

Roxanne and Marvin looked at each other in bemusement, unable to work out what Stan was going on about.

"Erm, Stan, hate to be the one to bring bad news, but, well, you were banished, remember?" Roxanne asked, jogging to catch up with him.

"We were, you're right, but we're going to be un-banished!"

"Stan, no one has ever been un-banished in the entire history of Oadford, it isn't possible!" Marvin added, gasping for air at the sprint required to keep pace.

"Well then I look forward to being the first!" Stan was positively beaming now, breaking into a slow jog.

"Go on then, Mr Smarty Pants, how exactly are you intending on making yourself and Marvin, two young teenagers who haven't fought a day in their lives, going to be de-banished?"

"I was beginning to think you'd never ask!" With that he stopped running, and waited for Marvin to catch up, before beckoning for his companions to sit. They reluctantly sat, Marvin clearing the ground before he did so, and nervously glancing over his shoulder for signs of creatures scurrying towards him.

Stan stood impatiently as he watched his friend, but when Marvin was finally ready, Stan began to hurriedly retell the story he'd heard from the goblins earlier in the night.

Considering how short a story it was it seemed to last forever, and Stan was panting by the time he'd finished.

"That's a really cool story Stan, but I'm struggling to see how it's going to get us de-banished?" Marvin asked, still looking and sounding unconvinced.

"Think about it... This stone, it has the power to build an entire army, big enough and strong enough to take over the world. But it doesn't have to be used to build an army, it can build literally anything!"

Roxanne gasped in pleasure as she realised what he meant, but Marvin's face indicated that he clearly hadn't yet. Roxanne turned to him, smiling.

"So this stone, it can build anything, right?"

"Yeah, I got that bit," Marvin replied warily.

"So just think of Oadford for the minute, it's been completely destroyed remember? Now imagine if we could build new houses and fishing boats, bigger and better than the ones destroyed because of us," Stan joined in, excitedly.

"That'd be great; we'd be able to go home. But we can't build and even if we could, how do you propose we do this without breaking the terms of our banishment?"

"But imagine if we had a stone that would let us build anything we wanted..." Stan started, hoping the penny would finally drop for his friend.

Marvin's eyes lit up, as he understood what Stan had overheard. Stan and Roxanne sighed in relief, and the trio started to jog again, desperate to go and put their plan into place.

At one point, before the sun started to come up, while Stan and Roxanne were alone, waiting for Marvin to catch up, the girl pushed Stan against the tree and moved in close enough to whisper in his ear.

"You might have chosen a good mistake to make tonight, but don't forget that it was just that. A mistake - a very lucky one."

Before Stan had the chance to argue back, Roxanne was gone, set off along the trail again.

He called out after her, but all he got in reply was,

"One more thing, you ungrateful dingbat! I hate Roxanne, it's Roxie to anyone but my father!" With this she skipped away into the distance. Simultaneously, Marvin trundled to a stop beside Stan, but Stan was instantly off again, afraid to lose their guide and only hope of getting out of the forest alive.
Chapter Eleven

It had felt like the night had lasted forever for the two boys, chasing after their new guide. They had been mainly following her footsteps, as she raced away at a pace even Stan had struggled to keep up with, let alone Marvin.

By the time they finally reached the point where the wood began to thin and the path to Oadford emerged, the sun had risen and was its highest point. Stan's stomach grumbled in complaint – it was fast approaching lunch time, and he hadn't eaten since the fish the night before. He pushed the thoughts to one side, and ambled over to the rock against which Roxie was leaning while she waited for them, leaving Marvin to catch his breath.

"What's the plan?" Stan asked, breathing heavily, trying to hide it but failing.

Roxie smiled, replying, "Well, the two of you can't just stroll straight through the city gates, you'll never be allowed inside! But somehow we need to get you to my father, he's the only one who'll know what to do."

A short while later, a plan had been agreed upon. For the rest of the day, the trio set about preparing the items and practising the skills they would need to execute their plan. At one point, Roxie had slipped off into the trees. She was gone for in excess of an hour, and Stan was beginning to worry that she might have abandoned them, when she strolled back into their clearing, a rabbit slung over her shoulder and a wide grin spread across her face.

They left Marvin to boil the rabbit with some wild mushrooms they found, to make it into a soup. While he prepared the food, Roxie dragged Stan to one side, and before he knew what was happening, Roxie kicked his leg out from underneath him and shoved him to the dusty floor.

"WHAT WAS THAT FOR?" Stan spluttered, coughing violently as he did so.

Roxie drew a thin sword from her belt, and pointed it towards Stan. She brushed the blade against his cheek. The steel felt surprisingly cold against Stan's cheek.

"Why?" Stan asked, fear spreading across his face. He glanced over to Marvin, to see if his friend had noticed the attack, but he was humming away jollily as he tended to his soup, his back to Stan.

Stan looked back up at Roxie, and noticed her laughing, with further infuriated him. He opened his mouth to further question the girl who he thought had saved him, but before he could speak, Roxie pulled away the sword and offered out a hand.

Cautiously, Stan accepted the help, and rose to his feet, dusting himself down as he did so.

"One-nil", she snickered, winking as she did so.

For the next hour or so, the sound of steel chinking and clanging filled the air, as the two practiced. The two danced and jived around the small clearing. By the time they had finished, any track of the score had been long since forgotten, but Stan knew that he had not been the winner. His lip was bleeding, and his breathing lumbered, as he hobbled over to the small fire to eat.

After they had eaten they sat quietly, each keeping themselves to themselves as they watched the sun set over the lake. Stan thought of his brother, and father, and how he may never see either of them again. He reflected with a hint of sadness on the warmth his father had shown him before he left, wondering whether things may have turned out differently for him and Edgar if he had shown that warmth from the moment Stan's Mother had died.

Eventually, night fell, and the three of them ran through the plan one last time, before Roxie headed down a spiralling path which descended towards the town. Stan counted to two hundred and then followed her down, shaking hands with Marvin before he left, his friend taking a different path altogether. After several minutes of furious walking, desperately trying to keep quiet but not lose ground on Roxie, Stan emerged at the bottom, and squeezed behind a large tree, out of sight of the guard's post, which as expected held two guards. He could see Roxie approaching them, staggering slightly.

Stan could hear hushed voice conversing, one of which he knew to be Roxie's.

"It's Roxanne, I don't feel too good. Could one of you help me back to my house please?"

"We can't leave our post Ma'am, sorry."

Suddenly, Roxie collapsed, and the two guards sprinted over to her in a panic. Stan smiled to himself, and thought, 'that girl can act!' The guards had a short argument about what to do, and Stan watched nervously – the entire plan hinged on this moment. Eventually, one of the guards trudged through the gates and into the town for help, while the other tended to Roxie, trying to wake her up. Stan breathed a sigh of relief.

Shortly afterwards, he crept through the undergrowth, around the guard so that he was directly behind him. Stan knew that speed was crucial here, but equally so was silence. One false move and it was over.

Carefully placing his feet between fallen branches to avoid stepping on one, Stan silently tiptoed towards the guard. By the time he was close enough to make out the pimples on the guard's neck, Stan felt as if his heart. He brought his elbow up and drove it downwards into the neck of the guard, who slumped to the ground with a soft thudding noise.

Stan heard Roxie giggle as she sprung up. "That was rubbish, I heard you coming from miles away, he must have been REALLY deaf!"

Stan glared at her, replying "Just shut up and help me move him, quickly!"

Roxie chuckled at him but did as he demanded, picking up the legs of the guard while Stan took the arms. Quickly, they half carried and half dragged the guard to the trees, and quickly undressed him. Stan's hands shook at the thought of being caught, and he fumbled the trousers, not able to unzip them. Roxie barged him out of the way, calmly sliding them down.

She looked at Stan calmly, taking his hand in hers. "This is going to work Stan, it's a good plan. You quickly change because they'll be here in a minute. And remember to tie him up in case he wakes up!!" she added, pointing to the guard.

With that, she sped back to the guard post, slumping back to the floor. Seconds later, Stan realised why, as he heard voices coming towards them. He could make out that of the Mayor, and said a silent prayer, for if anyone would recognise him it would be him. He changed out of his clothes as quickly as he could, and started to pull on the guard's. Thankfully, the guard was a short man, so his clothes were not too much bigger than Stan's. However, he had far more layers, and as Stan struggled with the trousers, he realised the congregation had arrived. They were made up of 5 guards, including the one who had left, a doctor, and the Mayor.

"Where's the guard I left with her? He's just gone!" The guard angrily grunted.

"You mean to say my daughter has been left out here alone, unprotected?!" the Mayor bellowed.

Stan took a deep breath and hurriedly pulled up the guard's trousers, put on the helmet, pulling it down as far as he could to cover his face, and stepped out into the opening. "Sorry guys, was just taking a leek, was bursting." Stan tried to put on as deep a voice as possible and sound embarrassed, but turned red at how unconvincing it had sounded. The guard who had fetched the mayor glared at Stan, looking both angry and slightly confused.

_He knows something isn't right_ _,_ Stan thought, staring at the ground, wishing he could burn a hole into it into which he could disappear. Mercifully, at that exact moment, an enormous BOOM echoed through the air. The guards all panicked, looking at each other in shock, before one exclaimed fearfully, "We're being attacked! To your stations, now!"

The guards darted away, leaving just the Mayor, doctor, Stan and Roxie. Another booming noise, like that of a pirate ship's cannon, echoed through the air, and the mayor jabbed a finger towards Stan, shouting something inaudible at him, above the sounds of screams from the town. Stan understood what he meant quickly enough though, and wrapped one of Roxie's arms around his shoulders. The doctor took the other, and the Mayor led them towards his house. As they passed through the streets, the loud banging noises continued, each bringing another scream from a house somewhere. Stan shuddered, the noises bringing back thoughts of the events of just days previously.

As they dragged Roxie through the streets, Stan tried to catch a glimpse of the doctor. His presence had not been anticipated, and could prove to be problematic, as Stan had hoped to speak to the Mayor alone. The doctor was a small, elderly man in an oversized coat, with a balding head, occupied only by a thin island of grey hair. He wore wiry glass, and Stan could sense that he was struggling beneath the weight of Roxie, which reassured him slightly. _If it comes to trouble, I could take him._

Stan realised in horror the violent thought he had just endured, and instantly hated himself. The doctor had been there throughout his Mother's short illness, and had barely left her bedside for the entirety of the few days she had suffered. Thankfully, before he could hate himself any more, the small group reached the Mayor's house, or what remained of it after the attack. Roxie was quickly placed on a bed set up inside the front room, where the doctor began to examine her. The Mayor anxiously paced up and down the room, muttering to himself. After a while, he noticed Stan, still stood awkwardly in the corner. "You can leave now, thank you," he glanced away, before adding, "by the way, your trousers are unzipped." He then sat in a large chair and poured himself a drink from a twisted, glass bottle.

Stan cleared his throat, before confidently pronouncing, "I'm afraid I can't do that Mayor," removing his helmet as he did so. With this, the Mayor's face dropped in horror, as the colour drained from his face. He gasped for words, stuttering and trying to find a response.

Before he could do so, Stan continued. "I have an idea, a plan, one that can not only help to rebuild our town, but one that can make it more wonderful than it ever was!"

With this, the Mayor's face suddenly turned red again, and he stood up, pointing his stubby finger Stan's way. "Don't you dare refer to this as your town ever again boy, you wait there while I call the guards," he coldly replied.

"Daddy please just listen to him!"

Stan, the Mayor and the Doctor all turned round in shock, having completely forgotten about Roxanne for a moment. She had sprung up from her bed and was prowling towards her father.

"I know what his plan is and I know that it can save our home," Roxie started, taking her father's hand as she did so, "He might have been part of the reason that it was ruined but he should be allowed the opportunity to make up for it! Without help we have no chance."

The Mayor brushed her aside, replying, "enough of this. I have no interest in what this traitor has to say. And I am very disappointed in you for siding with a criminal Roxanne, you can consider yourself in very deep trouble," glaring furiously at his daughter.

Stan was panicking, as he saw his hopes of saving his town and being allowed to come home slipping away. "Mr Mayor, please. I remember you as a kind man, one who would do anything to help his people. The night my Mother died and my father disappeared off to the pub, you let us stay here, said it was our home for as long as we needed it. You were kind to us then, and I know that you are that same person still."

As he spoke, the Mayor shuffled uncomfortably, and Stan knew he had touched a nerve.

"I am not asking you to forgive me and Marvin, I understand you cannot do that," Stan continued. "I am just asking you to hear me out, and to consider what it is that I have to say."

As the Mayor pondered his next move, silence descended upon the room, and Stan noticed that the banging noises had stopped. Eventually, the Mayor returned to his seat, and took a large gulp of his drink. He looked up at Stan, and sighed. "You do not deserve a thing, boy. You have betrayed your entire town and endangered us all. You have broken the terms of your banishment, an act punishable by death," he stated, before pausing to think again. "However you are just a child, and my word you have suffered enough lately. You have five minutes to impress me, and then you must leave for good."

Stan's face lit up at this news, but his face quickly changed when he saw the Mayor scowl at his reaction. Before the Mayor could change his mind, he began to rattle off his tale of goblins and the forest, and how Roxanne had rescued him. At this point the Mayor had looked over to his daughter in horror, aghast with shock, but Roxie simply nodded at Stan, to continue. He spoke of the Emerald and its power, and the fact that if they failed to get there first, the whole kingdom would be plunged into war.

When Stan finally finished, he swallowed deeply, and waited for the Mayor to reply. As he had earlier, he took what felt like an eternity to make his decision. Eventually, the Mayor cleared his throat, and moistened it with the remnants of his glass, ready to give his verdict. However, before he could do so, there was a banging on the door. All four of them spun around in a heartbeat, and the Mayor beckoned the visitors to come inside. The door slowly creaked open, but the guests were hidden from Stan's view until last by the large, oak door.

"It wasn't an attack Sir, it was just some local lad letting off fireworks, here, it was this scoundrel what did it," a guard grunted, before shoving a large boy with a bloodied lip into the centre of the room.

Stan's heart dropped when he saw that it was his best friend.
Chapter Twelve

Stan immediately glanced back at the Mayor, whose face remained unchanged.

"Thank you, I'll deal with him from here," he answered, with a manner of authority. The guards slowly shuffled out, disappointed not to have been invited to remain and watch the sentence of punishment being passed out.

Once they had left, Marvin slumped into a heap on the floor, and Stan and Roxie rushed over to help him. The rain had begun to fall once more, and Marvin's clothes were soaking wet. His lip was swollen and bruised, with blood slowly trickling down his chin. Stan quickly stripped him to his underwear, and Roxie wrapped a nearby towel around him, both casting all thoughts of the Mayor's next words to one side.

"Please," Stan cried desperately towards the doctor, "help him, else he'll freeze to his death!"

The doctor hesitated slightly, glancing towards the Mayor for approval, but the Mayor was too preoccupied in his own thoughts to notice, and so he hurried over to assist.

Only once the doctor had started to rub an ointment into Marvin's lip did Stan stand back up and turn away from his friend. He dried his hands on the back of his trousers, looking the Mayor in the eyes for a clue as what was to come, but the Mayor stared blankly ahead, ignoring Stan's gaze. He wandered over to the remnants of a large, wooden windowsill to consider further, leaving Stan to grow restless. When at last he returned, his shoulders seemed slumped, heavy with the burden of responsibility.

"Your idea is bold Stan, and many would say it is foolish. It's certainly very dangerous, and I strongly advise you reconsider. In fact I urge you to reconsider, for your efforts and life would most likely be lost in vain – there is no evidence that this emerald exists!" He exclaimed.

"Mayor please, just let me," but the Mayor held up his palm to cut him off, and Stan knew that he had reached his decision and could not be swayed.

"Let me tell you something, you don't get anywhere in life without taking a chance or two along the way. You can go, and seek out this emerald, and if by some stroke of fortune you are lucky enough to locate and secure it then you will be welcomed back with open arms!"

Stan grinned at this, and turned to Marvin to celebrate. Once again though, he was interrupted by the Mayor.

"However," he started, peering over his glasses, "you will not be draining any of our already depleted resources to go and get it. The guards will all remain here in Oadford. I will ask around for volunteers but I should not get my hopes up."

"But they're just two boys, how are they supposed to do this alone? They'll be going against an entire army!" Roxie blurted out.

The mayor glanced at her, surprised, and replied, "Which is why I strongly recommend that they do not attempt this challenge." He turned back towards Stan, and continued, "If you are to go ahead with it, your best bet is Wizard Maximus. Visit him, seek his wisdom."

Stan nodded gratefully, and thanked the Mayor, before adding, "We shall your honour, thank you for allowing us your time."

"I urge you to reconsider Stan," he sighed, wearily, before dismissing him abruptly with "Now get out of here before the sun comes up and I change my mind. No one must know you are here, or I fear for your safety."

"Here, let me fetch some fresh clothes for the two of you," Roxie called out, hurdling athletically over a fallen drinks cabinet and out of sight.

Stan turned to help Marvin up, but to his surprise he was already doing so, albeit rather groggily, and with the assistance of the doctor. Stan took his friend by the arm, and led him over towards the door, not daring to let him make his way independently for fear he might fall and persuade the Mayor to change his mind.

Before they reached the door, Roxie had returned with new clothes, and Stan moved away, to allow his friend some privacy to change. As he did so, Roxie flung her arms around his neck.

"Be safe, friend," she whispered. As she did so, Stan felt her hand go into his pocket, and he pulled away confused. Roxie winked at him, before hugging the now ready Marvin, whose new found clothes were baggy and ill fitting, and ushering them out of the door.

As the boys emerged from the house, they saw the sun beginning to rise over Lake Walandik, and Stan couldn't help but stare at its beauty. The rain was still falling, and in the distance, where the Great Sea stretched onto the horizon, a clear, beautiful rainbow had appeared, glistening in the first rays of the day's sunshine. He quickly got his senses back together though, and started to jog towards the woods and Wizard Maximus' hut. The two friends darted from tree to tree, desperately trying to avoid being seen. Eventually they came onto the winding path that led to Maximus' home, and ascended it as quickly as possible. Stan remembered his last visit, and prayed he wouldn't meet his assailant again.

As the hut came into view, the boys slowed to catch their breath, before edging towards it. This time, when Stan rasped on the door, it swung open, and to his relief it was the great wizard who was stood there. If he was surprised to see them, he hid it well, and quickly beckoned them inside.

Maximus was a tall, grey haired man, with a wrinkled forehead and glistening, blue eyes. He wore all purple, with a flowing purple cloak and a pointed, purple hat. Such was his height with his hat on, he had to stoop significantly to get back into his house, groaning as he did so.

Stan had never been inside the hut before, and was alarmed by the bizarre objects that lay around it. A small tortoise crept its way along the hallway floor, and jars filled with a variety of strange items hung from the ceiling by a string of rope. One contained a little bottle of fluorescent liquid, while another contained what looked like a brain. Stan turned back to Marvin in the hope that he wouldn't notice, but his friend's ghost like skin colour suggested he had already done so. They made their way through to a small room, cluttered with books and boxes, and sat on two wobbly armchairs.

"Can I make you tea?" Maximus asked, with a smile.

"No, thanks," they both replied, nervously.

"Ah, well then you'll have to excuse me while I brew myself some," he replied, pulling out a bright pink teapot as he did so, "it's just really rather unsavoury to start a day without a cup of the good stuff, don't you think?" Maximus' eyes gleamed, and he set himself about finding a cup.

Marvin and Stan glanced a confused look at each other. After several, lengthy moments rummaging through cupboards, Maximus yelped in excitement, emerging with a bright pink cup and teapot

He brought over his teapot and sat between the boys. "That's the problem when you tidy you see, you cannot find anything!"

Marvin's eyes flickered around the room in a surprised manner, and he asked, "You cleaned?"

"Yesssss yesterday, for my sins!" The great wizard replied, chortling to himself, before cracking off a long, warm laugh, with which Stan and Marvin awkwardly chuckled along. "Now, what can I do for you boys?"

"Well, we sort of need your help, and have a story of sorts for you." Stan started.

"Oh I love a good story, do go on!" Maximus declared, excitedly.

"Before I start," Stan said, awkwardly, "do you want some water putting in that cup, only it seems like you've forgotten?"

Maximus clicked his fingers, and smiled at Stan. Stan glanced down and gasped, as the wizard had magically conjured his cup full.

Impressed, Stan retold the story for what felt like the hundredth time. Maximus nodded and hmmed throughout, and Stan was starting to lose hope in the idea that he could help.

Once Stan had finished, Maximus without warning left and disappeared upstairs, leaving the boys sat alone. They could hear him singing to himself, and Stan was growing more and more bemused.

"Maybe this wasn't such a good idea? He seems crackers!" Marvin whispered hastily.

"No, Marvin we need his help. Everyone says he's brilliant!" Stan replied, trying to sound confident, although he too was beginning to question the Mayor's decision to send them here.

Before Stan had a chance to change his mind, Maximus returned, bearing a large scroll, which he unravelled on a table, beckoning the boys over with a finger.

"I have heard of such a stone, many years ago, only the once. I am certain that it exists."

Stan and Marvin let out a huge sigh of relief, but Maximus gave them a stern look which implied he wasn't yet finished.

"Regrettably, the emerald has a counter curse on it, one which the great Houdazald placed upon it. Without this counter curse, the emerald will destroy anyone who tries to use it."

Stan felt his heart drop within his chest, with the realisation that he truly would never return to Oadford, and that his town was doomed to eternal deprivation.

Maximus smiled across the table at him, and removed a parchment from his pocket. "The counter curse was only passed down by word of mouth, and only his closest relatives will know it. Which is why I took particular interest when, one night in a backstreet bar after a wizarding council meeting, Gustavo came to me and asked for help decoding a spell which he had been left by a distant relative. I had long since been aware of Gustavo's ties to Houdazald, before he even knew himself."

Stan and Marvin gazed back at him with blank faces.

"I had a hunch as to what the spell might be, and so copied it down when Gustavo went to relieve himself in the bathroom. I of course told him I knew nothing, as I have long suspected that his intentions may not be entirely pure." Maximus sighed, shaking his head as he continued, "That boy could have done anything, and yet he chose this path, such a pity. But I digress."

"So... what you're saying is, you have the counter curse?" Stan stumbled, desperately trying not to get his hopes up.

"That is exactly what I am saying young man!" Maximus replied, with a twinkle in his eye.

"That's brilliant news!!!!" Stan replied, embracing Marvin, who appeared somewhat overwhelmed with the situation.

"Oh that's more of that to come, come around and look at this map," Maximus said, urging them round the table.

Stan and Marvin obliged, and searched the map for a clue as to what Maximus was hoping they would find, but were unable to spot what it was that they were being shown. Maximus grew frustrated, and after a while he jabbed his finger at a spot on the map, exclaiming, "The Emerald is atop Mount Smouldotion boys, we are within touching distance of it!"

Once again, the boys embraced, and Marvin chimed "That's fantastic!"

Stan thought of his brother and father, and how he would be the one who saved Oadford, how he would be the hero. The Emerald was just a day away; all he had to do was climb a mountain that he had climbed dozens of times before!

"Erm... Maximus... That's great news, but, there is something of an elephant in the room?" Stan asked, nervously.

Instantly, the smile was wiped off of Marvin's face. Maximus stroked his beard, carefully pondering his map.

"Yes, you have stumbled upon the dilemma we face here, although I would believe it more fitting to describe it as a dragon in the room," he began, speaking in a mysterious, slow tone, "Once upon a time this would not have mattered. After all, Gordon was in a deep slumber until but a few days ago!"

Stan noticed Marvin turning a deep shade of violet next to him, and felt his own ears burning. The two boys both suddenly seemed to develop a sudden fascination in their shoes.

"The dragon is an inconvenience, yet his presence makes me even more certain that I am right, for the great Houdazald was just that, he was in fact wonderful, undoubtedly the most brilliant wizard to have ever lived." Maximus paused, and spoke in a more excited, hurried tone when he recommenced. "Now, we must consider this. Would such a brilliant wizard have left his most prized possession within the clutches of a crazed, fire breathing dragon? I think not, Gordon the Gruesome would have unintentionally destroyed it years ago for not being gold. Houdazald will have known this."

Stan sensed he was onto something, but had no idea what. He moved round closer, to see what it was that Maximus was seeing.

"We must think like he did. A dragon is not a fitting beholder of such a precious item, but he makes a marvellous protector of one, even without meaning to, would you not say?"  
The boys mumbled in response.

"I believe that this great stone we seek will be somewhere atop the mountain. Somewhere that it cannot be easily found, unless you are looking for it that is. Somewhere the dragon cannot get to, somewhere harsh and unforgiving."

Stan looked closely at the map of Mount Smouldotion, seeking somewhere suitable. He could sense Maximus watching him closely. After a while, Stan suddenly saw it, and yelled and pointed in excitement. Maximus simply smiled and nodded, retreating back to his chair.

"That's correct boy," he added once he had got there, "The Guardian's Hut is a rather apt name, wouldn't you say?"

Before Stan could reply, there was a tapping on the door. The boys both looked to Maximus, but he simple shrugged, telling them, "That won't be for me."

Stan and Marvin worked back through the cluttered hallway, back past the brain and cautiously opened the door, just wide enough to see through the gap.

"Oh open it properly Stan, if I'd wanted harm doing to you I'd have left you to those goblins!" answered a familiar voice.

Bewildered, Stan fully opened the door to reveal Roxie, who had changed into a new set of rugged, old overalls. She also wore her crossbow, and had a sword in her hand, with a pretty, chequered dress under her arm.

"I take it from your face you didn't read my note," she sighed, "typical boy! I save your life and you forget like all I did was hold a door open for you!" She barged her way past Marvin and Stan and into the hut. As she did so, Stan retrieved the forgotten note from his pocket, unwrapping it to reveal a heavily creased parchment, which read:

I'll meet you at Maximus' after sun rise, be ready, Rox. X

"Be ready for what?" Stan wondered out loud.

"For sword practice, silly! We're racing an army to this Emerald, you need to learn how to fight! Because trust me, from what I saw the other night, I'm not sure you could beat Marvin, let alone an army of blood thirsty goblins!!"

"That does sound like a useful idea, Stan," Maximus added. He had crept up on the three without anyone realising, and his comment made all three jump.

"You should go now, the three of you, go and practise in the woods." His tone suddenly became serious, "Be sure you are not seen by anyone. There will be uproar if people find out that you are nearby, and your safety will not be guaranteed."

Stan nodded in acknowledgment, and turned to follow Marvin and Roxie out of the door. Before he could leave, Maximus grabbed his arm, and Stan turned back.

"Before you go, I must apologise for my Brother, Ernest. He was the one who punched you a few days back. He isn't quite with it bless him, and it falls on me to care for him." Cheerily, Maximus continued, "He's not got the brains of myself, but he is jolly good with his fists, as you well know. He and I shall make quite the companions for your venture!"

"That's very kind, but," Stan started to protest, before he was cut off by Maximus.

"Enough!" He shouted, towering over Stan. "For too long I have sat back and allowed Gustavo to slowly gain control of the dark aspects of this kingdom, but he will not endanger our lands. We will get to that emerald before him and our wonderful land will be rebuilt! Now away with you, practise, we shall leave at first light tomorrow!"

Stan spent the rest of the morning and most of the afternoon practising with Roxie, who had found a sword for Marvin from somewhere too. They jived and prodded at each other all day, and by the end of it they were more than competent, albeit covered in cuts and bruises. At one point Stan sat under an oak tree for a rest, and watched his best friend and newly found friend clinking steel and prancing around in the clearing. He smiled, and thought to himself that for the first time in his life, he felt truly alive.
Chapter Thirteen

Stan could hear a gentle knocking but ignored it. Eventually they'd go away, they had to. He kept his eyes closed, and in the background heard somebody opening the door. Stan could make out gentle voices, several, but kept his eyes firmly closed. Until, that was, he got a nudge in the face with a smelly, damp foot.

By the time they had finally finished practising, the three had been exhausted, and had spent the evening relaxing by a small fire in Maximus' cluttered living room, chatting about meaningless things, anything but their quest, until they eventually drifted into sleep. It was the first full night's sleep they had received since leaving Oadford and they were exhausted, which was why they were all still fast asleep and lying head to toe in a small living room, with Stan looking up at a smelly, damp foot.

He saw now that the foot belonged to a man he just about recognised, but he was unable to place a name. The man was tall, and had a black, bushy beard. His right hand held a large spear, and in the other he carried a small, round shield, which was wooden and slightly rotted. Behind him stood a small posse of men, and in the middle of them all, looking like he would rather be anywhere other than in the crowded hut, was the Mayor.

Stan tried to push the foot away, but the man rubbed it all over his face, leaving slimy drips all over it. Stan sprung up angrily, but tripped over the somehow still asleep Marvin, who awoke with an "ow!" when Stan fell on him. The men laughed at their new companions, until the Mayor finally shouted for order.

The three got themselves up, and introductions were swiftly made. There was Worgan and Loose, the muscular brothers from the butchers, and there was Ponch, who was small and greasy, with jet black hair and a hooked nose. Stan recognised him, and gasped in horror when he realised that it was the notorious thief, who had been locked away for the past five years.

"Oh, you'll have use for someone like him if you're to be a success, I'm sure of it," The Mayor had warned Stan when he questioned his presence.

Finally there was the man with whom Stan had already been introduced to the foot of, Vlad, who was not from the kingdom and had a heavy, thick accent that was near impossible to follow. He had come to the kingdom for work, and had wound up in Oadford, where he had spent some time fishing. He had impeccable black stubble, with a handsome yet scarred face. The four of them, along with Maximus, his brother Ernest, and the friend either side of Stan, made up the party that they hoped would bring freedom to their land.

Stan was disappointed that his father had not been invited, and Marvin detected this from his glum expression.

"You know it's for the best," he had said. "People would have talked, and they'd have known something was going on."

Stan knew he was right, but was still brooding over his father's omission when they had left at sunrise, heading into the woods and up the winding path, leading deeper into the forest, that Stan had flown down just days before hoping to find help in time to save his brother.

They had decided to ascend from the opposite side of the mountain to that which Stan, Edgar and Marvin had done, so as to best avoid Gordon the Gruesome, which everyone agreed was desirable. Consequently, they found themselves walking down a narrow path, which caused the travellers to have to walk no more than two abreast, with a dense treeline either side of them. Maximus led the convoy, muttering directions to himself as he went. Stan spent the morning getting to know his companions, exchanging tales of the town with Worgan and Loose, who shared jokes at each other's expense for the entire morning's walk.

"Phwoar, let me tell you about this girl Worgan kissed at our cousin's wedding, Marvin!" Loose said at one point. "She was tasty!"

"Yeah," Worgan added, smarming and puffing his chest out, "I get all the tasty ones me!"

"Yes you do," Loose replied, a mischievous grin on his face, "If by tasty you mean they looked like a juicy pig on a hog roast anyway!" causing Stan, Marvin and Roxie to roar with laughter.

At one point, Stan overheard Marvin bragging about chasing off a pack of goblins to Ernest, who turned out to be lovely, and entirely apologetic for his violent actions against Stan. Roxie and Stan caught each other's eye when they overheard Marvin and allowed themselves a laugh, but let him carry on.

The only two members of the pack Stan did not get to know where Ponch and Vlad, who kept to themselves at the back of the line, hanging back some distance from everyone else. At one point, they stopped to drink from a natural spring, but the two still maintained their distance from the others, quietly mumbling to each other. It was here, at around midday, that the pack heard a loud crunch in the forest to their left.

All of the members were startled, and Stan heard Worgan mutter to Marvin something about being ready to kill goblins again. Stan shot him a glaring look and Worgan quickly turned away, embarrassed. Stan was having similar thoughts himself, and the last thing he wanted was for his friend to become petrified.

Roxie had drawn her bow and arrow, and Maximus held his staff out in front of him threateningly. Stan's hand edged towards his sword, hesitant to unsheathe it for fear of antagonising whatever was out there.

"Reveal yourself!" Maximus roared.

The group remained in position, ready to defend itself, for several moments, before a small child, completely naked, tottered out from behind a tree. The group relaxed, and laughed at each other, but the atmosphere was tense and they proceeded with more caution, all weapons now drawn.

This alone was the reason that, later that afternoon, with the sun beating down, an arrow thudded into Vlad's rotting shield, as opposed to his chest. The group stopped dead in their tracks, darting their eyes all over in search of the attacker. It was Worgan who spotted the pack of goblins first, and he bolted towards them with a loud roar. He was quickly followed into the treeline by his brother, and before Stan and the others could take in what had happened, the noise of clinking weaponry was echoing throughout the air. Roxie scarpered up a tree to gain a better vantage point from which to fire, and Stan's heart was in his mouth as he saw her trying to clutch at branches. He scanned the treeline for goblins to protect Roxie from the archer, and his heart stopped when he saw the filthy creature loading another arrow, and looking directly at Roxie. Without thinking, he sprinted towards him and flung himself over a large protruding tree root to rugby tackle the goblin around the chest. The tackle took the goblin by surprise, and the momentum carried the two a long distance in the air, before they tumbled down onto the ground with Stan on top of him. They landed on a slope however, and before Stan could jam his sword into the goblin's face, the jolt of the landing dislodged the sword from his hand, and the pair began to roll down the hill, away from the sound of death. The goblin withdrew a short knife and tried to jab it towards Stan, and it took all of the boy's strength to keep it at arm's length away from him. The goblin's face was twisted and contorted, and he slobbered all over Stan as they rolled over each other. The stench of slime coming from his foe combined with the lengthy tumble and the fear that filled Stan's stomach made him feel nauseous. Momentarily, he feared he would be killed whilst throwing up, but Stan forced the thought from his head, and concentrated solely on keeping the goblin's jagged blade away from him.

Eventually, they hit a large tree with a thud, and stopped rolling. Stan reached for his sword, forgetting that he had lost it in the fall. As he tried to rise, he realised he was trapped beneath a thick tree root which he had slipped under. The goblin was groggily getting up to his feet but appeared to be heavily dazed, having borne the brunt of the impact with the tree. Stan started to panic, and willed his body to get up, but found himself frozen to the spot in fear. The goblin was now on his feet, and was slowly edging towards him, teeth gnashing and arms swinging, like an ape. Stan suddenly remembered the dagger his father had made for him, and desperately scrambled to reach it in his back pocket. He tried to wriggle his arms free, and eventually managed to pull one loose. He looked up and saw the goblin edging closer. And closer. And closer. He frantically tried to reach his pocket, stretching as far as he possibly could, to the point where he felt like his shoulder was going to be torn from its socket.

Still the goblin edged closer. And closer.

Eventually, Stan managed to roll over slightly and reach round far enough to find the pocket. He scrambled for the knife, and as soon as he felt the roughened handle, whipped it out and thrust it in the direction of the goblin. The goblin was just inches away from Stan by now, so close that he could smell his repugnant breath. He let out a sickening screech of pain, as the dagger burst into his eyeball. As Stan twisted the dagger, the goblin slumped to the floor, lifeless.

Stan breathed a huge sigh of relief and lay under the tree root, panting heavily. He slowly withdrew his dagger, and wiped the gunky remnants of the goblin on the grass. He squeezed out of the trap, and began to trudge back up the hill. He was halfway up when he heard a group running down towards him. Stan couldn't see who it was that was coming, but his instincts were screaming at him to hide. He shuttled sideways, away from the sound, and into the deep overgrowth, burying himself as deep within as he possibly could.

Just seconds later, his decision was proven to be a good one, as four goblins stomped through the fallen autumn leaves, down the hill he had been in the process of coming up. They were headed right towards him, and Stan didn't dare breathe, lowering himself as closely to the ground as he possibly could. Three of the goblins were just like all of the others he had seen; skinny, dirty, ragged and feral looking. The other, however, looked so different it was hard to believe he was a goblin. He was huge, with a large, puffed out chest, and he towered over the other three by an enormous margin. He had blood smeared all over his body, and his teeth shone brightly with what looked worryingly like blood. Stan said a silent prayer for his friends, but held his breath, too terrified to make a sound, as the goblins stopped walking down the hill just metres away from him.

"Grimey, why are we running? We have them on the ropes!" One of the smaller goblins snarled.

The larger, even more terrifying goblin turned to face the other, and exhaled loudly over him.

"We have lost many warriors, that girl was good with her bow," he replied, "and I have yet to meet a goblin who can climb a tree, have you?" He maliciously added.

"So we're running?" The original goblin added. "Are you losing it you filthy animal?" He asked, conjuring up as much venom as he possibly could.

The goblin Stan had taken to be Grimey laughed, loudly, a long, hollow laugh that was clearly false. The other goblins looked around at each other uncomfortably, unsure of what to do.

The first goblin looked furious and humiliated, and his face contorted in anger, as he spat, "Stop laughing you filth. Answer me!"

Instantly, Grimey stopped laughing and stepped right up to the goblin, looming over him.

"I am not running, you despicable creature. I am showing that I not only still have it, but I am better than ever. If we stay, we might destroy them, we might not. But if we don't, this posse will continue towards the Mountain and Gustavo will have no idea. We must retreat, and warn him." His loud voice boomed throughout the whole area, and it made Stan shiver with fear, so much so that he accidently trod on a leaf, creating a gentle, soft crunching sound. Stan froze in fear, and his stomach plummeted when he saw Grimey dart a look in his direction and sniff at the air. Several long seconds passed, but thankfully the enormous creature turned back to his unknowing victim.

Stan turned away and breathed a sigh of relief, but looked back when he heard a spine tingling scream. What he saw sickened him, and he quietly threw up moments later, once the three goblins had retreated further down the hill, leaving their deceased comrade on the floor, headless.

Chapter Fourteen

Stan remained hidden in the bush for as long as he possibly could, not daring to emerge in case the eerie silence was a trap. It was only when that silence had been broken, by a shrill, recognisable shouting, that he dared to move.

"STANNNNNNNN!" One deep, manly voice bellowed.

"Stan! Where are you?" Another added.

Still Stan didn't emerge from the undergrowth, even as the voices grew tantalisingly close. Eventually, the voices started to fade, and Stan realised that they must be heading to search another part of the woods, or had given up altogether. This realisation brought him to his senses, and snapped him out of the anxious haziness he had been submerged in. He brushed the branches aside and burst out, sprinting back up the hill and yelling for the group to wait at the top of his voice.

As he re-emerged to the opening which contained the natural spring they had been drinking from when the first arrow hit, Stan spotted the red head of Roxie, and slumped to his knees, panting. To his relief, everybody remained, unharmed, and began to head over towards him. However, as they began to reach him, they stopped suddenly, recoiling with a look of disgust on their faces.

Stan looked round and scanned their faces, confused, until Marvin took a big gulp and darted over to him, helping him up.

"What's going on Marvin, why's everyone so uneasy?" He asked, with a bewildered look on his face.

"Well, mate, it's nothing really, it's just that," Marvin stuttered, unsure as to how to express his answer.

"YOU STINK MATE!" Roxie shouted, bursting into laughter as she finished, and as Stan's face contorted into anger. Stan looked to Marvin, who simply nodded, looking down at his shoes.

Before Stan could understand what was happening, he was being forced into the spring to wash, with the group reluctantly helping him to wash goblin saliva and blood off of his filthy clothes. Stan was growing restless, eager to share what he had overheard, but every time he tried to do so he was interrupted, until he finally snapped in anger.

"Enough! I need to tell you something," he started, emerging from out of the water, pushing Marvin's hand away. Once he finally had everyone's attention, he began to recount the conversation he had overheard, leaving out nothing, not even the gory decapitation.

After he finished, there was a hush around the group, with everyone seeming to be waiting for someone to say something.

"Well, it's not ideal, but it could be a lot worse, we could be a headless goblin!" Worgan joked, and the group laughed, anxiously, all unsure of how to respond to the news that an enormous army of goblins would know of their presence at any moment.

"There is only one thing for it," Maximus stated with authority, "we must move faster!"

As one, the posse gathered up their items, brushed themselves off and headed back onto the path, Maximus leading once again. This time, as they walked there was no light hearted joking, no laughter or songs. They proceeded quickly, with a sense of urgency and purpose, jogging in a crouched manner, keeping low to the ground to be less conspicuous.

Dark began to fall as they reached the base of the mountain at the point Stan, Edgar and Marvin had ascended it, but they skirted around the edge, back into the thick treeline to circle around it and climb from the opposite side, to avoid Gordon the Gruesome. They continued to plough on, Maximus adamant that they must not stop in spite of the complaints.

After several hours more, as the group trailed behind him in utter blindness, Roxie tripped over a fallen branch and flung forwards into an area of soggy marshland.

The men panicked as they searched for her, calling her to come towards them, but in the darkness it was impossible to know exactly where she had landed.

"She can't swim!" Stan shouted frantically, remembering her on a sports afternoon, desperately splashing to stay afloat during the swimming races.

Without hesitation, Vlad waded in, his large, muscular arms snapping bushes out of his way. He called her name in a gruff voice, until finally he heard a desperate plea for help. He surged towards her, and before the group on the bank knew what was happening he had disappeared from sight. A panicked silence fell over the group.

"Shall we go in after him?" Loose asked, worried.

"Shush, let me listen for him!" Worgan snapped back.

Several silent minutes passed, without any trace of their companion's return, before there was another splashing noise, and Vlad reappeared in front of them, with Roxie's slumped body in his hands.

Stan rushed over towards them and helped Vlad out of the water, before wrapping several blankets around his friend. Ernest tried to help Vlad but he refused, instead simply heading towards Maximus and grunting, "Now, we rest."

Stan, Marvin and Roxanne spent the rest of the night sat up against a tree, wedged under a large blanket together to keep warm. Marvin was asleep in minutes, snoring away heavily, but Roxie and Stan were restless, tossing and turning.

Stan opened his eyes to sunlight the next morning, and was surprised to realise that he must have got some sleep.

The morning was fresh, with a chilling wind and a clear blue sky, which allowed all of the heat from the already bright sun to escape. The group looked groggy, with even Worgan and Loose not joking around or laughing. They broke their fast on a few berries that Ernest had salvaged from a bush, and before long were back on the track, cautiously edging around the marsh area which Roxie had been sucked into the night before.

Stan found himself walking alongside Maximus, and finally asked something which had been on his mind all night.

"Who is this Gustavo, Maximus?"

"Ah, where do I begin? Let me see," he pondered, scratching his head, "well Gustavo like me is a wizard, who sits on the Wizarding Council. He's quite brilliant, truly he is. He's a lot younger than the rest of us, and I had high hopes that he would be the leader of the new band of wizardry within this kingdom."

At this point, Maximus hesitated, seemingly reluctant to continue, but Stan pried anyway, eager to learn more about their foe. "But?" He asked.

"Well, he has what many of us consider to be unconventional interests," he began, "for example he, like the rest of us, likes to experiment. A few years ago we had a big falling out, our first. He wanted to experiment on living humans, to see whether he could split them. In simple terms, he wanted to take one man, and divide his soul into two, a truly dark form of magic, but one which would have left him with double or even triple, if he had attempted, the number of men." Maximus shook his head, before continuing, "Now several of my fellows thought this could be of benefit, the reasons I cannot remember," he paused, wiping his brow. "But I could see straight through the rubbish reasoning he provided. He was obsessed with power, he always has been."

"I don't understand, how is that even possible?" Stan asked, unsure as to the connection.

"As I said Stan, it is the single most evil form of magic. The man who is transformed becomes no longer a man, not how you or I would think of a man anyway. These beings would have possessed two bodies, but one soul. They would have been nothing more than a piece of meat, existing purely to serve and follow simple instructions."

"I have always had my suspicions that Gustavo had desires, to become a true dictator. I invited him to join the counsel in the hope that I could tame him, re-educate him, but it appears I have failed, and it could be a very costly mistake," he added, and as he did so Stan could see the pain in his eyes. "I felt that he wanted to experiment with cloning as a way of producing a large army. He failed, and the experiment didn't work, but this hunt for the Emerald of Foundation confirms my fears. He wants control of this entire Kingdom, and if he can get it then anything beyond it too."

Maximus said this with such certainty and fear that it turned Stan cold, his insides becoming frozen with fear.

They walked on in silence for a few moments, until an excitable shout from ahead notified them that that they had finally reached the correct base of Mount Smouldotion.

From this angle the Mountain looked even more fearful, with its steep ascent, and jagged rocks. There was no sign of any life whatsoever, not even a mountain goat. The group assessed the best route to climb with frowns and little shakes of the head. Worgan untangled one of the lengths of rope they had brought with them, and looped it into a lasso, before throwing it at a particularly prominent rock sticking out of the surface, some 100 feet above them. He failed to catch it on the edge, with the rope falling some way short. He mumbled to himself about the wind and distance as he pulled it back down to try again. Stan felt sympathy towards him, as he knew the eyes of every single one of them was on him. Worgan spent an eternity eyeing up the angle while the group held its breathe, before he finally tried again, but this time he overshot it by a substantial amount, causing him to curse loudly to no one in particular. Loose took over and too had a try, but he also failed. At one point Roxie came close, with the lasso landing on top of the rock. However, the rope flopped back down to the ground once it was yanked to assess its durability.

There was an air of frustration as several hours passed, with each member of the group trying and failing to land the rope on the rock. With every minute that passed, Stan would scan the horizon with fear, half expecting an enormous goblin army to march over the horizon. The only member who had not tried to land the rope was Ponch, who had spent the time sat on a nearby rock, watching with what seemed like amusement. At one point, Stan caught him smirking after a failed attempt by Marvin had left him flat on his face.

For this reason, Stan recoiled in shock when the rope was snatched from his hands by Ponch, who removed several layers of clothing before strolling up to the beginning of the slope, with the casual approach of a man stepping outside for an afternoon stroll by the lake. As he reached the part of the slope where the incline increased dramatically, he turned and tossed the rope back down to Ernest, dropped to his hands and knees, and crawled up to a large looking rock which protruded out from the mountain's edge. He pulled himself up onto it, with seemingly little effort, like a cat leaping onto a drainpipe. He tiptoed across the narrow platform, to the end of the rock, where he took a deep breathe to compose himself, before leaping across to an adjacent rock, catching himself on the ridges and grooves within the rock's surface. There were gasps from below from the startled crowd, who began to encourage him as he made his way further up.

"This is incredible!" Marvin mouthed to Stan, who simply nodded in amazement at his friend. The surface was nearly vertical, and yet Ponch was ascending with seemingly little difficulty. After half an hour or so, he was nearing the rock that had been the target for the lasso, and he beckoned for the rope to be thrown to him. Ernest gathered it up, and hurled it up towards him. The throw was perfect, and sailed upwards directly towards Ponch. However, at the last minute, a sudden, enormous gust of wind caught it, and slightly altered the direction of the rope. Ponch shuffled sideways to react to this, but misjudged his distance from the edge. To the horror of the crowd below, his feet slipped off of the edge, and he fell, scrabbling desperately to catch himself on a nook or cranny within the rock's surface. Suddenly, he disappeared from view. A deathly silence descended upon the group who were still at the bottom of the mountain, as they prayed he had managed to save himself. In the background was the quiet whooshing of the wind, rolling through the valley they found themselves in. Every single eye was fixed on the mountain, scanning it for any sign of life.

Eventually, after several heart stopping seconds, Roxie screeched in relief and pointed towards the rock they had been targeting. Somehow, Ponch had heroically caught himself, and was clambering up the last rock, with the rope in hand. The group cheered and clapped, laughter's of relief echoing up to Ponch, who was grinning and, Stan imagined, probably sneering down at them, as he tied the rope and threw it down.
Chapter Fifteen

Hastily, the group ascended the rope, one after the other, leaving a short gap between the climber ahead of them. The rope swayed in the wind, at times leaving the climbers clinging on for dear life. Stan and Roxie were the last two left at the bottom, and glanced at each other with hesitation. Roxie laughed, and took hold of the rope, scrambling up the first few metres with the ease of a monkey. She glanced back at Stan, and winked, giggling as she shouted, "I'm not going after you and letting you fall on me!"

This left Stan stood alone at the bottom of the rope. He watched his friends struggle with the climb, and paid particular attention to Marvin, who, predictably, was finding it more difficult than anyone else. Even from the ground, Stan could see his face, bright red from the physical effort required to stay on the rope. Stan stepped up to the rope, ready to start climbing, when he looked up and noticed Ponch, who was leaning down to the rope, with a knife in his hand. Stan's heart froze in terror, as the worst thoughts flashed through his mind. Was that why Ponch had joined the voyage, to be led to the Emerald before he killed everyone to claim it for himself? Stan looked up desperately, with every member of the group on the rope except for him. There had to be something he could do. He tried to shout out in desperation, but his voice was lost in the wind. There was nothing Stan could do.

He watched Ernest as he neared the peak, and try as he might, Stan could not shake the image of him and the others tumbling to the ground as the rope was cut. He closed his eyes and braced himself for the screams, the terrified wails, and the inevitable thud, as his friends landed around him. He stayed that way for several moments, until the apprehension was too much for him, and he forced himself to open his eyes. Stan recoiled in surprise, as he looked up to see everyone else on top of the rock, safely off of the rope, and eating what looked like fruit, off of a nearby tree. That must have been what Ponch had been cutting, Stan realised, ashamed of himself for having such cynical thoughts.

Stan composed himself before starting the ascent, which to his surprise was not as challenging as he had anticipated, and in no time he had reached the top. As he did so, Ernest reached down and grabbed his hand, pulling Stan up and over the edge, onto the ridge behind the rock they had ascended to. Stan released an audible gasp of shock at the staggering views in front of him. Even on a cloudy, grey day such as this one the eye could see for miles and miles, out as far the smouldering remains of Oadford. Stan wandered over to Ponch, who was sat between two rocks, his back against one and his feet against the other, hanging several feet off of the ground.

"That was brilliant," Stan said, "thank you so much! Where on earth did you learn to do that?"

Ponch chuckled, and while Stan wasn't sure why, he sensed it was at him. "Ah, here and there boy," he replied, as mysteriously as everything he did seemed to be.

Undeterred by Ponch's reluctance to talk, Stan continued, "Could you teach me?"

This made Ponch choke on his apple in laughter. As he coughed and spluttered , his face turned bright red as he both choked and laughed simultaneously. "Me? Why boy, I can think of a million better to teach you than myself!"

"Well I can't think of anyone who can climb like that!"

"True," Ponch replied, taking a loud bite out of his apple. "I tell you what boy," he continued, apple flying everywhere as he spoke, "if we make it off of this mountain alive, I will teach you."

"Truly?" Stan asked, his eyes lighting up, his failed attempts to hide his excitement resulting in a high pitched squeak.

Ponch suddenly leapt down from his resting place, landing beside Stan. He knelt down to Stan's head height, and whispered into his ear, "I am not who you think I am, little boy. This man has honour, and I truly will teach you."

Before Stan could reply, Maximus shouted excitedly for their attention. Baffled by Ponch's remarks, Stan made his way over along with the others, and gathered around the small rock Maximus was hunched over. The great wizard was muttering under his breathe to himself, before looking up and throwing his hands up in the air triumphantly, exclaiming, "I've found it!"

It was difficult to tell what Maximus had been hoping for by way of reaction, but it arguably was not confused silence and looks of bewilderment. Maximus scanned the faces, looking for some positivity, but all he received was a reluctant, "I don't see it anywhere?" from Marvin, who turned crimson red and shrugged when Maximus glared at him.

"Follow me, you fools," Maximus sighed, heavily.

With this, the aged wizard ascended the nearest rock, and in a not dissimilar manner to that of Ponch mere moments before, leapt across to the next rock, which he scurried up with a surprisingly youthful spring. Slowly and with much more caution, the group followed. This time, Stan stayed close to Ponch, watching and admiring his every move, as he seemed to grip onto any surface, no matter how smooth and flat it was, like a cat digging its claws into a narrow ledge.

Out in front, Maximus did not slow as they continued the ascent, pounding furiously to reach this destination he seemed so certain he knew of. He ignored the regular cries of the group to slow down, with Marvin in particular struggling with the rapid ascent. Half an hour or so later, Maximus eased to a stop, alongside a large bush and growth of trees. Stan was closely behind him, and so had time to take in the surrounding area whilst his comrades arrived and regained their breath. The line of trees on their right was thick, while to their left there was a few metres of flat, rocky terrain, beyond which was the sharpest of drops. Stan wandered to the edge and peered over. His breath was taken away by the suddenness of the slope. A loose pebble was dislodged by Stan's presence, and gently rolled towards the edge, gradually getting closer until it tumbled over the edge. Stan watched it fall, growing smaller and smaller as it continued to drop, until it was eventually lost amongst the other rocks and boulders. He turned back, and saw Marvin hunched over, puffing on every breath to suck as much oxygen as possible in. For a change, he wasn't the only one, with Worgan and Loose sat against rocks looking exhausted, panting heavily. Surprisingly, Maximus looked as fresh as if he had just got out of bed, and was waiting impatiently, arms folded across his chest. Stan worked his way over and wedged himself into the circle which had formed, between Roxie and Ponch.

"Gentlemen, my lady," Maximus began, awarding a cheeky wink at Roxie, which made Stan smirk as he saw her blush, "we have reached our goal. Worgan, Loose, make yourselves useful and please help me. Come, come," he urged, beckoning the brothers towards him.

Reluctantly, they edged forwards, until Maximus grabbed them by the arm and jerked them towards him.

"Good, right, I need you to go into the undergrowth there and bring me a pink flower, the first you see please, I'll only need the one," he ordered, pointing towards the dark treeline behind him.

It was only then that Stan realised how gloomy and desolate the trees looked, with a dark haze lingering throughout it. It was hard to imagine anything pink resided within the forest. The brothers evidently had similar feelings, as they glanced around, unsure as to what to do.

"Go on, go!" Maximus barked, prodding them with his staff.

They scampered cautiously over the uneven ground, and eventually entered the densely populated treeline. Within seconds they had disappeared from sight, leaving those who remained clueless as to what was happening. Stan glanced at Maximus looking for some sort of clue, but the great wizard was avoiding all eye contact, simply sitting and tapping his foot instead, like a child who was urging away the last few minutes of a long school day.

After several minutes of eerie silence, a manly, familiar scream echoed from within the trees, deep within the wood and to their left. The majority of the group had sat in a circle and were chatting idly to pass the time, and at once they leapt up to go and help their comrade.

"NO!" Maximus bellowed, also rising, to form a barrier between the group and the trees. "They must do this alone, if anyone else enters that wood the mission will fail, before it has truly begun." He held his staff out aggressively, and Stan dreaded to even consider what he would do if anyone dared to try to pass him. The group all returned to their circle, although there was no idle conversation any more, only nervous silence. At one point, Ponch went to stand up, as if to challenge Maximus, but Ernest pulled him back to the ground before he could do so.

After a lengthy wait, Roxie grabbed Stan's arm, and whispered, "Someone's coming."

The rest of the group had also heard, and cautiously rose, and soon after they could also hear slow, lethargic footsteps. The back of Stan's mouth had gone dry, and his palms were sweaty. He caught eye contact with Roxie, who also looked nervous. The footsteps coming towards them didn't sound human. There were four within quick succession of each other, similar to that of a four legged animal. Ponch and Vlad drew their swords, ready to slay any beast that emerged. The footsteps drew closer, and Stan could hear his heart pounding in his chest. The footsteps drew closer. And closer. Closer still they came, until...

"HELP HIM, QUICKLY!" Worgan wailed, as he emerged from the treeline, his brother's arm draped around his shoulder, the two of them awkwardly stumbling. Worgan was covered in blood, but it was clear that it wasn't his own. Loose had large claw marks engraved across his chest, which was completely revealed by his torn shirt. Loose stumbled to the ground, and Maximus rushed forwards, mumbling foreign words and running his hand over his body.

Loose screamed in pain, and writhed on the ground, until eventually he fell still. Worgan had been crouched over his brother, but recoiled in horror, turning a deathly pale of white.

"Is, he..?" Worgan tried to ask, unable to get the words out.

"No, boy, I've merely put him to sleep. The wounds have healed well enough but he'll need to see a healer when we return, I am rusty to say the least."

Sure enough, the slashes on Loose's chest had stopped bleeding, and skin had grown over them, leaving ugly scars in their place.

"Now, the flower, I presume you got it?"

Worgan reached into his bag, and with a glare at Maximus, pulled out a single, pink rose. He sliced his hand on the thorn, but barely noticed, handing it to Maximus, whose eyes lit up at the sight of it. Worgan then slumped to the ground beside his brother, and stroked his hair, which was matted with blood.

Maximus turned and strolled towards the treeline, before tossing the rose high into the air and back into the woods. On Stan's right, he noticed Worgan's jaw drop in disbelief at what he saw, as the rose his brother had nearly died for was thrown back from whence it had come. Maximus withdrew a small stone from his robes, and Stan remembered seeing him pick it up earlier, when he had become excited and started to rush the group. He also hurled this into the forest, before withdrawing a small, sharp looking knife and holding it aloft.

"A TRIBUTE TO THE FIVE GODS. I GIVE YOU THE PINK ROSE OF THE DARKNESS, A SYMBOL OF THE HOPE WE BRING, WE ARE THE LIGHT IN THE DARK!" He shouted. As he did so, dark clouds suddenly appeared in the sky, blocking out any remaining sun. The wind began to swirl and howl, and Stan found himself thrown back in shock. He fell to the floor, and crawled towards Marvin, who was also struggling. He reached out his hand and Marvin grabbed it, holding on tightly. Stan grabbed hold of a nearby rock, so hard that it drew blood from his fingers, but he ignored the pain and clung on.

"I GIVE YOU THE STONE OF SIGNATURE, A SYMBOL OF THE FACT THAT WE HAVE THE RIGHT TO BE HERE – THE OWNER SAW FIT TO GIVE US THIS KEY, WE ARE JUST IN OUR QUEST."

Upon the latest statement, a flash of lightning crashed through the sky, and rain began to pour down, soaking the group.

"FINALLY, I GIVE YOU MY BLOOD, AS PERMISSION TO SEE ME BLEED OUT SHOULD THIS QUEST HOLD FALSE, DISJUST MOTIVE!" With this, Maximus pressed the blade of the knife into his palm and drew a line of blood. He held his palms open to the sky, and stood, staff and hand up to the Gods.

For several moments, the rain and wind continued to attack the group, and Stan began to panic, fearing their journey had all been for nothing.

Suddenly, the wind stopped, the rain ceased and the clouds cleared. Before them, where previously a large bush had been, emerged a small, wooden hut.
Chapter Sixteen

"The Guardian's Hut!" Stan gasped, in awe at the magic he had witnessed.

Ernest, Vlad, Ponch, Marvin and Roxie were all speechless, and Maximus had a wry smile on his face.

"Oh, that protection was good Houdazald, truly you were the greatest wizard this world has ever seen," he said, kneeling to the ground to run his fingers through the dirt.

The cabin was made entirely of wood, and was small in size. It had a small veranda, with wooden pillars supporting the roof above it. There was a small, discrete green door, with no windows or anything else in the front. A thick line of trees remained around the outside, and it was clear that there was only one way in.

Maximus wandered towards the hut, his cloak trailing along the ground. Gradually, others began to follow, with Marvin, Stan and Roxie at the rear of the pack. Maximus closed his eyes, and ran his hand gently across the surface of the wood.

"There doesn't appear to be any magic or trap on the exterior, but you can be sure there will be inside," he whispered, "some may be activated by sound, so absolute silence from here on."

With this, he beckoned for the group to split either side of him onto the veranda, with himself in front of the door. Stan was on his left, alongside Vlad, who was sweating profusely, and Roxie. Worgan remained sat beside his brother, seeming to have lost all interest in the search for the Emerald.

Maximus gently eased the door open, which creaked loudly as he did so. Stan saw the grimace on Maximus' face, and prayed for nothing to fly out at them. Fortunately, an attack was not forthcoming, and Maximus swiftly swept through the gap and into the dark hut. The hut contained a single room, and was gloomy, with visibility poor. Following Maximus, the seven of them squeezed inside. Once in the hut, the group could just manage to line up along the wall, with little distance between them. The room extended several feet in front of them, and was empty bar a table and a single rocking chair, and a fireplace set back in the far wall. Maximus signalled towards Ernest, and he slowly tiptoed along one of the two side walls and towards the fireplace. Maximus, meanwhile, edged towards the table. Both he and Ernest used a stick, which they prodded into the ground on their intended next step. Stan glanced at Roxie and saw her equally bemused face, unsure as to why they were doing this. All became clear however, when Ernest tapped a floorboard a couple of steps in from the door, and a knife flew out of the wall and inches past his face. Ernest breathed a huge sigh of relief – if it had been his foot landing there, his brain would now be splattered against the far wall.

This increased the tension within the room, so much so that Stan couldn't bear to watch, and instead scanned the nearest wall. Meanwhile, Maximus had reached the table, and slowly ran his hand along the edge of it. There was nothing on top of the table, so the Emerald would have to be hidden along the rim if it was there. After carefully running his fingers around the entire length of the rim, Maximus shook his head in disappointment. As he tapped the next step towards the chair, the floorboard he had prodded suddenly crumbled, as did the one either side of it, revealing a vast hole beneath it.

Maximus' foot was teetering between the floorboard next to it and the one next to that, leaving some of his foot dangling in open space. Unfortunately for him, he was putting his weight through this foot, and so his momentum carried him forwards, and he fell. At once, Roxie and Ponch lunged forwards towards him, but they were too far away to reach in time. Stan too was too far away, and looked back from the wall just in time to see Ernest step towards his brother. What happened next seemed to occur in slow motion to Stan. Maximus somehow pulled back his staff as he fell, and reached for the nearest floorboard, which he just found with the very edge of the staff. Simultaneously, he hooked his back foot behind the table leg, and he somehow managed to catch himself, with his life balancing on the strength of a table leg and his staff.

As Ernest stepped onto the next floor board, there was a loud clunk, and before anyone knew what was happening, a large spear drove upwards, out of the ground and threw Ernest. There was a temporary expression of surprise on his face, and he gave out a small **ooo** , before falling to the floor, motionless.

"Ernest!" Maximus whimpered, in shock. He somehow managed to pull himself to his feet, and crawled towards his lifeless brother, only avoiding setting off another booby trap by luck. By the time he reached his brother, the life had been completely sucked out of him, and he could do nothing but kiss him on the top of the head, and close his eyes. Stan felt tears welling up in his eyes, and used his cloak's thick, uncomfortable sleeve to wipe away those that he could not fight back.

"Stan," a voice croaked from ahead, "Stan to the fireplace, use this," Maximus begged, throwing Ernest's stick towards him as he fought desperately to hold back tears.

Stan gulped, and took a deep breath, looking towards his friends for support. Roxie's eyes were a river, and Marvin could not look up from his shoes. He was the only one who could do this. Reluctantly, he gathered up the stick, and prodded in front of him. He cautiously made his way along the wall, carefully ensuring he did not touch anything. Miraculously, he managed to avoid any further traps, and reached the fireplace. He ran his fingers around the edge, looking for a catch or switch. When this failed, he ran his hands over the rest of the fireplace, and to his disbelief he found one, in the form of a false log in the middle of the collection of wood in the bottom of the stove. Stan turned the log, causing the fireplace to hiss loudly. Stan recoiled in surprise and fear, while the remainder of the group watched on nervously, as the fireplace split in two. As it did so, it revealed a small hole in the wall, within which sat a gleaming, purple emerald.

Stan reached out tentatively towards the emerald. In the background he heard a small bang and a scream, but he was so focussed on the emerald that he did not process this. Until, that was, he felt the cold edge of a blade, pressed firmly against his neck.
Chapter Seventeen

"Don't move an inch you little worm," a foreign voice grunted in his ear, "or I'll shove this knife in places you'd much rather it wasn't shoved."

Stan recognised the voice as Vlad's, and knew that they had been betrayed. Even if he had wanted to disobey the traitor's orders, he couldn't, as he was completely frozen to the spot in fear.

"Vlad, please," a voice croaked from the back of the room, "don't hurt anybody else, you can have the Emerald, just set Stan free, I beg of you."

Stan's stomach churned at the sound of Maximus and the use of the words 'anybody else', which he assumed meant someone had already been hurt. Stan had his back to the group, and tried to turn his neck to see them, but Vlad grabbed his hair and pressed the knife more tightly against his skin.

"I warned you not to move boy!" Vlad growled furiously. "Next time I'll take an ear, maybe you'll listen to that warning!" Vlad laughed at his joke, and continued, "Marvin, you useless lump of lard, tie everyone else up, and do it quick, else I might decide your friend here will look better with just the one ear anyway!"

Behind him, Stan heard Marvin nervously fumbling about, and could picture his friend's awkwardness. In the back of his mind, he considered which of his friend's it could have been that Vlad had injured. Meanwhile, Vlad was licking his lips, and could barely contain his excitement, constantly glancing over to the emerald. However, Stan could feel him growing restless, and prayed for his own sake that Marvin finished tying everybody up soon.

Thankfully he did, and as soon as he was done, Stan was dragged to the lone chair in the room, which he was violently shoved into by their captor.

"Him too now boy, nice and tight or it'll be your ear I'll have!" Vlad ordered, standing aside to allow Marvin to tie Stan. Stan tried to catch his friend's eye to reassure him, but Marvin was too focussed on the rope, which he had to fight to hold in his trembling fingers. When he was finished, Vlad pulled the rope tighter, so that it burnt Stan's chest.

He then looked Marvin up and down, before sneering at him and shoving him into a corner. He made his way over to the fireplace, and scooped up the emerald. His greedy mouth was beaming at the sight of it in his grubby hands and Stan found himself praying for something to happen, for him to fall down the hole, or set off a trap.

This however did not happen, and he made his way towards the door, whistling to himself as he did so. When he reached the door, he paused, and turned back to the group.

"You know, it is funny, I have pursued this emerald for so many years, and as soon as I arrive in Oadford, you launch a party to go and fight for it!" He strolled over to Maximus, calmly, like a man who had all of the time and power in the world and knew it, and stroked his face, squatting down to be at his eye level.

"You really have gifted me this, you know, it has been like taking candy from a baby," he continued, holding the emerald mere inches from Maximus' face, "you really should have done your research."

"He who trusts, is a man who would put his life in someone else's hands, " he continued, gazing into Maximus' eyes, before giving him a cheeky slap, as if they were brothers who had been play fighting, "and that man is a fool." Following this, he squeezed Maximus' cheeks and rose, turning for the door.

While Vlad had been toying with Maximus, the wind outside had picked up substantially, and the hut had begun to shake slightly. Vlad stumbled as he turned, and had to grab out against the wall to stop himself from falling. The wind continued to increase in noise and volume, and it sounded almost as if the Gods were wailing their disapproval of Vlad's actions, and for a moment it seemed to Stan that the entire hut might implode against the wind. However, the wind eventually eased, and Vlad chuckled, saluting Stan as he left and adding "my thanks, friend."

As he said this, the wind reached speeds and levels that Stan didn't think possible, and suddenly the roof came crashing down upon them. He tried to cover his head with his hands but the rope was too tight, and so all that Stan could do was close his eyes and pray he wasn't struck. Branches and trees tumbled down around him, but he was by some miracle uninjured, and when the wind completely ceased moments later, he was relieved to see that his comrades were also uninjured, if shaken. Ponch was lying in a dazed heap, from Vlad's attack Stan presumed, but he too was squirming and coming to his senses.

Several branches lay strewn on the floor, but most notably was a huge oak tree which had somehow been blown out of its roots, and had landed on top of the hut. From somewhere came a muted whimpering, and Marvin, who was the only free captive, cautiously pulled at branches to explore the source.

"Stop, Marvin!" Maximus shouted assertively, "that is Vlad, and somewhere in that mess is the emerald. Don't touch it, else the curse which struck our foreign friend will strike you too. Now come and free us."

Stan thought back to that conversation in Maximus' hut and remembered the mention of a counter curse, and realised that the curse must have been what brought on the unexpected wind. Speechless, Stan watched as Marvin cut the rope binding the group, before walking over to do the same to him.

"The booby traps?" Stan began to ask.

"They must have been turned off when you opened the fireplace," Roxie replied, before throwing her arms around him. "Ernest..." she whispered into his ear, fighting back the tears, holding onto Stan tighter.

"I know, it's horrible," he replied, quietly, "but we need to be strong, for Maximus." Over Roxie's shoulder, Stan watched Maximus approach the debris, and clear it cautiously, until he came across the emerald. Instantly, he stooped down to it, and mumbled foreign words, which made no sense to anyone else.

"He's been there for us, now we need to be there for him," Stan continued giving Roxie's hand a squeeze, "let's make sure Ernest didn't die for nothing. This emerald must stay in our hands."

Simultaneously, Maximus scooped up the emerald, and turned to the group. "The curse is lifted," he stated, forcing a smile. "We've done it."

As he finished, a groan came from the door, and Ponch waded through the sea of branches to the source, which was a trapped, dying Vlad. Ponch smiled, and pondered for a moment, before bending down to him.

"All these years you claim to have been searching for this," he whispered, so that only Vlad could hear him, "and you knew nothing of the curse. Deary me, you really should have done your research."

With this, he drew his knife, and, as casually as if he was slicing an apple, swiped off an ear, before turning away and strolling out of the hut, whistling, oblivious to the screams of pain.

The group quickly followed, but Stan hung back, by the side of Maximus.

"What about your brother, Maximus?" Stan saw the glisten in his eyes, and immediately regretted asking.

"Stan, my brother will still be here tomorrow, and the day after. Right now, the priority has to be getting this to Oadford, before Gustavo gets to us," he sighed, holding up the emerald, "it's what he would want."

Stan nodded in agreement, and slowly began to fall back to the others, to leave Maximus alone in his thoughts. However, before he could reach them, Worgan and Loose came crashing through the trees, shouting, "GOBLINS!"

Chapter Eighteen

It had been a long, cold night, but the first rays of sunlight were finally breaking through. Stan and Ponch descended quickly, watching their step carefully in order to avoid any unsteady rocks. They reached the correct height and broke off of the track, skirting around several large trees. While Ponch marked the tree, Stan wondered over to the edge of the cliff and gazed down at the hordes of goblins, metres below them.

They had slightly overestimated just how many goblins there were on the cliff, but that didn't matter; in fact it was a pleasant surprise. A pleasant surprise to what should hopefully be the day that finally ended it all. He thought back briefly to last night. At first, they had panicked, when Worgan and Loose came sprinting towards them with the news they had dreaded. Once they had calmed down, they realised that in fact they had time, as goblins were not fast climbers. They hatched a plan and set to it. When eventually they had settled down to try and get some sleep, Stan had found it impossible, and ended up sharing the watch with Worgan. They had spent the night watching the goblins gradually edge closer, until they were close enough, at which point they awoke the group and set about the final preparations.

It looked like it was going to be a glorious day. There wasn't a cloud in the sky, and while it was still dark, visibility was already good. Stan felt a gentle hand on his shoulder, and turned to see that Ponch had finished his work. The two nodded at each other, and back tracked their steps to the rocky path, where they continued their descent.

Meanwhile, some hundred metres above, Roxie too was readying herself. She was sat waiting for the cue, sharpening her arrows as she did so. By her side were Worgan and Loose, who were cracking bad jokes in an attempt to lighten the mood. It didn't work; the atmosphere was tense and the mood was nervy.

"It's shaping up to be a glorious day!" Ponch exclaimed, much more loudly than was necessary.

"You're right, it is!" Stan replied, almost as loudly.

Stan hoped it didn't take too long. He had been up close with a goblin before and it hadn't been pleasant. Sure enough though, as they got closer to the packs of goblins, they became noticed. Ears began to stand up on end, and Stan could just about make out teeth being gnawed.

"I reckon this is it mate, this is the day we're going to find that emerald!" Ponch continued, shouting now, "I mean, we know it's in the hut, the question is where is the hut, and how do we find it? We've been looking up that path for so long, I'm starting to think we'll never find the hut that way, we should try going through Gordon's lair!"

"Yeah I think you're right, if you think about it, the hut wouldn't be in plain sight, but Maximus is convinced the best way is down the path!"

"True, although the lair is definitely another way to it, he said he was certain of it – we're wasting our time like this!"

The two slowed, and paused as if they were gazing into the distance.

"Do you think they've bought it?" Ponch whispered, facing away from the goblins.

"They're certainly interested, I think someone'll be up after us soon," Stan replied.

They waited a while longer, not daring to get any closer, as the goblins below argued and pointed fingers, unsure as to what to do.

"Gustavo definitely isn't there, there's no leadership, they aren't sure," Stan commented, watching out the corner of his eye.

Eventually, a pack of approximately fifteen goblins was sent up, armed with axes, hammers and a variety of other weaponry. They scurried, scrambling up as fast as they could. Stan turned to run, but Ponch grabbed his arm and held him back. Stan looked at him in bewilderment, but Ponch shrugged and said, "If we go too early they won't keep up."

Seconds later Ponch suddenly burst away, and Stan cursed his naivety. Ponch was teasing him, and now he was playing catch up. He chased after Ponch, but he was chasing shadows, unable to get close to the thief. He tracked back up the path, glancing over his shoulder every so often to check the goblins had stayed with him.

Stan focussed on not tripping, making sure he placed his feet exactly where he had done on the descent earlier. He was way out in front of the goblins, but he didn't even dare to think about what would happen to him if he was caught. He recognised each step, placing his foot exactly where he had done on his four practise runs that evening. He glanced up, and realised he could no longer see Ponch. Stan tutted and picked up the pace, determined not to show himself up in front of the impressive athlete.

So much so, that he stopped concentrating on his steps, and before he knew it he had ascended beyond the height at which he needed to leave the path at. Panicking, Stan turned and saw the goblins, still some way behind him, but gaining with every second. He quickly calculated the odds, and decided that he should be able to reach the path before the goblins beat him to it. But it'd be close. Stan turned and sprinted without a moment's hesitation, fully aware of how idiotic his decision looked from the outside. He knew the importance of reaching the path before the goblins though, for his own sake and that of the quest.

He thought of nothing but putting one foot in front of the other. Then the next, and the next. He paid no attention to where they landed, and stumbled on several occasions. The path was getting closer and closer, but then so were the pack of goblins. They were so close that Stan could make out the saliva flying from their mouths as they lurched towards him. Stan was mere inches from the path, and they were as close on the other side. Stan had the advantage, however, of knowing what he was going to do next. The goblins were braced for an attack, and were slowing to draw weapons. At the last possible second, Stan flung his body to the left, and rolled and rolled as far from the rocky path as he could. Every inch of his body was scratched and bruised by the impact, but it didn't matter, all that did was that he wasn't on the path.

For moments later, an enormous **BOOOOOOOM** burst through the air. Huge flames erupted from the path, and soil and rocks were flung hundreds of yards high from the explosion. The goblins on the path were blown to smithereens instantly, and hadn't even the time to scream in pain. Stan stopped rolling, and pulled himself to his feet, allowing himself a wry smile. Far below them, he saw the rest of the goblins panicking and grabbing their weapons, readying to attack but unsure as to how to best go about it.

As he watched the chaos unfold beneath him, Ponch meandered over, whistling a cheery tune.

"You're lucky," he stated, "another second up the wrong way and I'd have had to have blown you up too," he said with a playful voice, although Stan knew his word's to be true.

"I'm an idiot!" He replied, trying to hide his embarrassment.

Ponch laughed, and put his arm around Stan's shoulder. "It doesn't matter, the plan still worked. That path will not be usable for years."

Stan smiled in reply, but inside he felt humiliated. He knew that everyone would have been watching, and he had nearly blown the entire plan. There was no time to waste dwelling on it though, as the goblin army below were finally ready, and restarted their ascent up the mountain.

Stan and Ponch scrambled up a steep, barren hill and within minutes were alongside Roxie, Worgan and Loose. Roxie was biting her hair, trying not to laugh. Stan glared at her, while he begrudgingly accepted the comments of the brothers that he had been unlucky.

"Is everything ready?" He asked.

"Yes, we finished moving the rest of the dynamite from under the hut while you climbed down; there was even more of it than we thought! We were so lucky no one stood on that floorboard, else we'd have all been goners!" Roxie replied, giggling merrily.

"Well then now we wait," Stan added authoritatively.

"We do, let's hope the goblins don't miss the turning!" Roxie retorted, with a smirk and mischievous wink.

The five withdrew from the small opening which allowed passage for anyone small enough to the lair of Gordon the Gruesome. It was a less dangerous route than that which Stan, Marvin and Edgar had tried, but even Stan couldn't fit through it. They covered their faces in mud and hid in the undergrowth, not daring to move, unable to do anything but pray that the goblins had understood Stan and Ponch's conversation.

An hour passed, and by the time the first goblin finally crawled over the ridge and onto the platform outside the entrance, the sun was fully up. One at a time, the goblins slowly began to file into position, until there were more goblins occupying the space than there was space. They were pushed right up against the treeline, within touching distance of the humans they so badly wanted to hunt down. They were reluctant to enter the lair, but eventually had no choice but to. Evidently, Stan pondered, goblins feared Gordon the Gruesome as much as he himself. They slowly began to work their way inside, and Stan allowed himself a quick smile to Roxie. It was working.

The lair was huge, and while they assumed Gordon was in there, Stan was confident that the goblins would be able to reach the exit close to the hut before they disturbed him. After nearly an hour, all of the goblins were inside. Stan glanced over to Ponch, but he held his hand out, urging him to wait. This proved to be a wise decision, as just moments later a small group of goblins, all heavily armed, scrambled up the final hill and into the cave. This time Stan knew to wait, but after several minutes, nothing else had clambered up the entrance. Ponch gave an affirmative nod, and the five quietly, but with haste, set about their work, crouching low to the ground as they scurried onto the path, wary of more stragglers.

The four males rushed over to the entrance, and pulled on two ropes, two a side, which were hidden within a bush just outside the entrance. Stan braced himself for the deafening crash that was to come, and prayed the goblins were some way inside the cave. The four men heaved and heaved on the ropes, until eventually an enormous boulder began to give way from just above on the mountain. It came slowly at first, gradually picking up speed, until it began to roll down the hill, bouncing wickedly. The rock was hurtling towards them, but Stan tried to remain calm; they were in no danger, and he had made himself look enough of a fool already that day. The boulder continued to hurtle down the mountain, and it wasn't until the last moment, when it seemed as though it was upon them, that it suddenly jolted to a stop, caught in a giant net that was discretely hidden above the cave.

Worgan and Loose clambered up the outer wall and started to pull at the net, lowering it towards the ground. The net was bulging under the enormous weight of the boulder, and it dipped even further when the brothers climbed on top. Stan and Ponch gradually increased the laxity of the ropes holding the net up, lowering it further towards the ground.

"Easyyy, that net doesn't look like it's going to hold you," Ponch hissed, as loudly as he dared.

Worgan and Loose nodded and continued at their work, quickly and even more carefully. The netting continued to bulge and Stan noticed that it had begun to fray. He watched nervously as it lowered closer to the ground, finally allowing himself to relax when it was mere metres away from the floor. It was at this point, though, that the netting split, and the boulder fell to the ground with an enormous crashing noise. Stan and Ponch rushed to the boulder and began to heave it towards the cave's entrance, knowing that the goblins would have heard and come to investigate. Stan tried not to panic and focus only on the task. Push. Push. Worgan and Loose brushed themselves down from the fall and began to help, pushing against the boulder with all of their might.

Only Roxie didn't help, instead choosing to load an arrow into her bow, and aim it towards the cave entrance, ready to loose it at the first goblin to come charging out.

Stan paused to wipe his brow, as the work was hard and the sun was warm. As he did so, he heard a noise which made his stomach churn. From deep below them came the sound of shouting, and stampeding creatures, getting closer and closer with every second. The other three had also stopped to listen, and exchanged nervous glances with one another.

"HEAVEEEEEE!" Worgan yelled, with all caution regarding noise now unnecessary.

Not for the first time, it was now a race, and Stan had witnessed first-hand the fury and passion that was emitted from a goblin when it was on the trail of human flesh.

With every second that passed, the boulder edged closer towards the cave, but similarly the sound of clinking of swords and shouting of goblins grew nearer. Stan was petrified, but continued to push.

The boulder rolled in front of the first part of the entrance, but it would take one last push to entirely block it. That was when Stan saw them. The first goblin rounded the corner, and was swiftly followed by countless others. But it was that first one that Stan couldn't take his eyes off. Stan took in the redness of his eyes. The saliva drooling from his mouth, his teeth chomping in anticipation of the first bite. The claws, with razor sharp nails. They were so close that Stan could smell them. This is it, he thought. He drew his eyes back to the goblin's, whose stare was entirely on Stan. The goblin leapt into the air, flinging himself forwards at Stan.

Whoooooosh.

Blood spurted out of the goblin's eye as he dropped lifelessly to the floor, an arrow pierced through it. Finally, before Stan could see the goblin's body hit the floor, the boulder rolled into position, and the entrance was entirely hidden.

The four men sat with their backs to the cave, panting heavily from the exertion. Stan nodded at Roxie, who winked in response. She then turned away and drew another arrow, and struck it against a nearby rock. The arrow's tip caught alight at once. Roxie took a second to compose herself, and took up a firing stance, facing up the mountain. She locked the arrow into position, and fired it, high up into the sky.

Without need for a second glance, Roxie strolled over to the exhausted men, whistling. She sat next to Stan, back against the rock.

"How do you know that they saw it?" Stan asked, when he could catch his breath.

Roxie smiled, turning to Stan and replying, "Just listen, dear."

She then put her fingers in her ears, and smiled cheekily. Moments later, another enormous, deafening boom sounded through the air. Stan's ears were ringing, and he collapsed to the floor in agony.

When he finally managed to sit up, his head still full of ringing, he saw Roxie laughing at him. Loose helped Stan back to his feet, and the five stood at the edge of the cliff, watching the smoke, as they waited for their comrades to re-join them.
Chapter Nineteen

By the time the rest of the group had warily made their way down to them, Stan had heard enough goblin screams to last him a lifetime. The boulder covering the rock was thicker than a dragon's skin, yet still did nothing to mask the screams as Gordon the Gruesome set to work on his victims.

The mood was one of victory, and the air seemed to be brimming with happiness. Hugs and handshakes occurred, before Maximus cut across the chatter and laughter with a stark warning.

"We may have defeated the goblins," he began, his bushy eyebrows frowning, "but we need to get this emerald to the bottom of the mountain, now! This was just a small wave of the goblin forces, and Gustavo will be getting closer with each second we waste playing nice up here," he snapped, jabbing his staff towards Loose and Roxie who were giggling, arms around one another.

"He is right," Ponch added, with a cautious wisdom, "we must leave at once."

Quickly, the group gathered any strewn clothing or weapons, and began to set off back down the mountain.

Marvin and Stan found themselves at the back of the group, and Stan was shocked by the transformation in his friend, who was singing merrily to himself and anyone else who would listen.

" _Oh, home to Oadford,_

The Greatest Village of all,

We'll fish and kites will fly,

We'll make merry on pieeeeee,

Oh, home to Oadford,

The Major he will rejoice,

And when he sees our great prize

His Village will once more rise!"

On and on his singing went, until eventually Stan shrugged in surrender at Roxie, and joined in, loudly and triumphantly. Roxie laughed, teasingly barging Stan into a mound of dirt.

" _Oh, home to Oadford,_

The Greatest Village of all,

We'll fish and kites will fly,

We'll make merry on pieeeeee,

Oh, home to Oadford,

The Major he will rejoice,

And when he sees our great prize

His Village will once more rise!"

As Stan, Marvin and Roxie became more excited and joyful, other members of the group began to chime in.

"Think of that nice, cold ale, Loose!" Worgan cried gleefully.

"Think of the many, many cold ales my brother!" He replied, "you too Ponch," he added, jokingly shoving the quiet leader of the group, "you'll come and drink with us when we're back?"

"Why, of course, my friend!" He replied, leading to a loud chorus of cheers from the three, who raised imaginary glasses to each other. Even Maximus was beginning to enjoy himself. What wasn't there to love? The sun was beating down, they were returning home, where they would shortly become heroes.

" _Oh, home to Oadford,_

The Greatest Village of all,

We'll fish and kites will fly,

We'll make merry on pieeeeee,

Oh, home to Oadford,

The Major he will rejoice,

And when he sees our great prize

His Village will -

"NEVER, EVER RISE!" Interrupted a sinister, booming voice from behind them.

As one, the group spun round, withdrawing weapons and adopting stance poses. They formed a tight circle, with their backs to backs, ready to protect one another. Stan saw nothing but trees and rocks ahead of him, and from the confused murmuring of the group, sensed that no one could see anything.

"You think I am that easy to see?" The voice asked, laughing in a shrill, knowing manner. This time the voice came from to their right, and from the vast emptiness that leered beyond the edge of the cliff. Ponch hurried over to the edge of the cliff and crawled onto his stomach, peering over. He saw nothing, and turned his head back to the group and shook it, confused.

"Oh, my friend, I cannot fly! Only my voice can do that!" The voice continued, this time from the direction of the mountain and the terrifying entrance to Gordon's lair.

A panicked hush descended over the group, who turned to one another in fear. Maximus grabbed Marvin and Stan's shoulders and pulled them around, so that the group formed a circle of sorts.

"Listen to me," Maximus whispered urgently, "this is the work of Gustavo. He is trying to scare us, stall us into waiting and doing nothing. It means he is not yet here, but he must be close."

"What do we do?" Stan asked.

Maximus glanced over his shoulder, nervously.

"The only way up for Gustavo is up the same mountain path we were heading down, so he must be there," he began, stumbling on his words for once as he sought for the right way to phrase his solution, "we.. we must enter Gordon's lair. It is the only way."

Silence fell upon the group.

"Well, if it's the only way..."Loose started, trying to rally the troops, while looking at Maximus questioningly.

"It is, I am afraid," Maximus answered, wearily, "now Ponch you lead, everyone else stay close to him. I will be at the rear, ready to duel Gustavo if needs must."

There was hesitancy and uncertainty, until Maximus began dragging people towards the mountain's peak.

They ran quickly, although they had no desire to reach their location. Stan thought of the last time he had made these very same steps, recalling how they had joked and teased and how he had hated Edgar for the mean things he'd say to Marvin. The thought brought tears to his eyes, and he had to brush them away with the palm of his grubby hand. It was as he did so, he noticed their wetness, which brought confusion, until he realised it was sweat. He was terrified. He was running into a dragon's lair, as the alternative was an army of angry goblins. Of course he was terrified.

Before Stan realised what was happening, the group had arrived back at the cave, where he had been so recently. The cave was as dimly lit as ever, and the group hung around the outside, wanting anything other than to enter.

"Do we really need to go in," Marvin asked, "only it seems daft when we don't know for definite that the goblins are still chasing us?"

There seemed a general consensus of agreement, but moments later a loud roar came echoing from the distance, and a single goblin came into sight. The group recoiled and stepped back in fear, awaiting the sight of an entire army behind the sole goblin. However, it did not come. The goblin simply grew closer and closer, until Roxie stepped forwards with her bow and arrow, aimed, loaded and waited. She waited as the goblin drew closer still, until she could see the whites of its eyes. Then she killed it.

The group cheered as the goblin slumped to the floor, although they dare not relax. Their caution was justified, as moments later a huge number of figures became visible on the horizon. In the distance, a trumpet like noise could be heard, and this was followed by the sickening, stomach churning sound of pounding feet.

"Inside, hurry," Maximus beckoned, "Stan, Marvin, "he shouted, pulling them towards him, "you know the lair better than any others. Navigate it! Find safety, and remember, dragons hate goblins, even more than they hate humans."

With this, he turned away and began to walk out to greet the goblins.

"Wait," Stan tried desperately to shout, "where are you going?" but his voice was lost amongst the panic. He was picked up by Worgan, and half dragged towards the great door.

The door was still ajar from their first visit, and one by one they slipped through. Enough stories to last a life time had occurred since Stan had last been here, but he still remembered the walls, and the mind-blowing quantity of gold.

Once everybody had squeezed through, he called them round, in the quietest, most subtle voice he could manage.

"Gordon will still be up there with the goblins we trapped in," he began, jabbing a finger upwards, "so if we hide, he shouldn't find us, not until the goblins from out there," he continued, jabbing a finger out towards where he knew Maximus would be meeting the pack of angry, hungry goblins, "are in here, making a lot of noise and being begged to be killed."

"Sounds a good plan," Loose replied, nodding his head, which the rest of the group joined in with, something Stan was grateful for, even though he knew it was only due to a lack of other ideas.

"But where will we hide?" Worgan asked, looking around in a combination of awe and fear at the stacks and stacks of gold surrounding him.

Stan turned to Marvin with a wry smile. Marvin was initially confused, but within moments he understood what was being said, and nodded, with a knowing smile.

"Well," Stan began, putting his arm around Marvin's shoulder, "I think we know just the place.
Chapter Twenty

The tired, battered group tiptoed their way across the cave floor, gliding across it in an attempt to make as little noise as possible. Gordon might have been fed, but that wouldn't stop him from finding room for a human dessert, Stan suspected. He was surprised by how difficult he found it to retrace his steps, and the first three times he ended up going wrong and having to backtrack, to the annoyance of the group and himself.

"No pressure, Stan," Roxie hissed, "there's only a massive hoard of goblins within seconds of us, most likely in this cave right now looking for us."

Stan ignored her, but knew she was right. They needed a hiding place, and now. He looked over to Marvin, who had also been in the cave, but he shrugged and turned away.

When they were back at the entrance, Stan paused to get his bearings. Whilst they waited, an enormous white light illuminated the sky, and with it came an enormous crackling sound, which made the group spin around as one. Moments later, a booming sound ignited the air, and a flashing green light penetrated the cave's inners. Nobody said it, but everyone knew what it meant. Maximus and Gustavo were duelling.

"Maximus is the best wizard there is, he'll be alright, he'll defeat him," Loose mumbled unconvincingly, his voice dripping with doubt and anxiety.

"Yes, he will," Stan agreed, patting Loose on the back, a gesture he seemed to be grateful for. "Now, I think I've got it. Come on guys, let's get out of here."

The progress was slow, as Stan meticulously ensured that he got every step exactly right. At one point, he heard a clanging of gold, far to his right, but pushed it from his mind. Worrying about it would have merely distracted him, as he questioned whether it was dragon or goblin that had come to enjoy their flesh and bone.

Stan could sense their proximity to the steps which he, Marvin and Edgar had tumbled down what seemed like years ago. At last, he looked to his right, and saw them there, so well hidden that he had to stare hard before he was certain.

He gestured over with a sigh of relief, and quickly and quietly, the group descended the stairs. They went down and down, far deeper than Stan had originally realised. Eventually, they reached the bottom, and to his shock Roxie threw her arms around him.

"Well done Stan," she whispered in his ear, before planting a soft, delicate kiss on his cheek.

Stan felt his face begin to burn, and was thankful that no one else seemed to have noticed. He eased himself away, and turned to the group.

"We'll wait down here, until we hear the goblins, they won't be subtle."

"Neither will Gordon be," Ponch added, with a raised eyebrow and a smirk on his face. Stan got the impression that he enjoyed the thought of the goblins being flared alive, torn limb from limb.

Several hours passed. Worgan and Loose sat back to back, arms across chest, trying to appear confident, but Stan saw straight through it – they were frightened. Marvin, Stan and Roxie sat in a small circle, and although they too tried to hide it, Stan knew that both of his friends were also petrified. The only one who seemed genuinely unfazed was Ponch, who sat on a rock, slowly sharpening his sword against it. Above them, all was unnervingly silent, bar the occasional tumbling of a pile of gold.

After several hours had passed, Stan rambled over to Ponch, and scampered up onto the rock, sitting next to him. Ponch said nothing, and continued to sharpen his sword, but glanced over to Stan and offered an acknowledging nod.

"Did you mean it," Stan asked, cautiously, "What you said yesterday, about teaching me how to climb?"

Ponch did not reply at first, instead continuing to run his blade along the rock.

"Yes, boy," he eventually replied, setting down his sword. "If you would like, I will teach you that and a great deal more."

"Like what?" Stan asked, curiously.

"I originally come from a land far from here," Ponch replied, lowering his voice so that only Stan could hear," a land where there is only one purpose. It is not to farm, or to provide, but it is to train."

"To train," Stan asked, confused. "Do you mean like some sort of school?"

"Not quite," Ponch laughed, stroking his chin as he considered his next words. "You have a gift Stan Pike, you could go on to become something truly special. "I cannot think of how to put this, boy, but essentially, the purpose of Valdridia is to train men and women to be assassins."

Stan recoiled in horror, and tried to subtly edge away from Ponch. His mind was whirring in shock at the revelation, and the realisation that Ponch was more than likely an assassin. Stan could tell from Ponch's frown that he had given away his thoughts with his reaction, and he could feel himself blushing.

"You think it is wrong, to be an assassin?" Ponch asked, before cutting Stan off as he started to answer. "I can see from your face, you think the term, the title, has a negative connotation. Yes, to be trained as a killer is an unusual thing, but consider this. Who do you think it was that truly won the Battle of Gildyhorn? The armies I presume? You may have heard, that the battle was won despite the rebels having thrice the number of fighters? This is true, but these men were usual, as the night before the battle, four assassins invaded the rebel camp and killed the most influential generals in their army, leaving their troops without leadership and order. They stood no chance against the trained army of the Kingdom."

As Stan took this in and considered the meaning, the thoughts were shaken from his head and replaced by others. One by one, their ears of the group pricked up, as above them they heard a thundering, so loud and strong that it sounded like a waterfall, crashing down into the base below. It was the sound of countless numbers of goblin feet pounding into the ground above them, as they charged through the cave, in search of the emerald and its possessors.

Stan tapped his back pocket, to ensure it was still there. As the group had raced clear towards the Mountain, Maximus had pulled Stan's arm back, and subtly handed him the Emerald. The warning he had given Stan came rushing back to him, and he pondered over the meaning.

"Trust nobody Stan," he had said, the wrinkles on his forehead creasing more than usual, "not even Marvin. Tell nobody that you have this, for there could yet be an intruder within the ranks."

The sound of footsteps nearby snapped Stan out of his reminiscence, and he froze, as he realised there were goblins directly above them.

Seconds later, the same goblins screamed in terror, as a monstrous roar rang through the cave. The sound of gold crashing to the ground filled their small cavern, and Stan pictured Gordon's thick tail swashing violently, bringing the stacks tumbling down. He pictured the countless goblins, scrambling desperately for safety, but being singed before they managed 10 steps.

The group listened, and Stan wondered what their next move should be. Should they try to sneak out in the mayhem of everything? Should they wait for the lull and then dash out as quickly as they could?

Before he could raise the issue, a more pressing issue came to light. There were footsteps, coming down the stairs, getting gradually closer towards them. Fear drove deep into the heart of Stan, but he pushed it aside, drawing his sword. Around him, everyone else did the same. Roxie moved to a position with the best angle for an early attack, locking an arrow into her bow. Even Marvin had a determined, cold look about him. They had come so far; to fall now would be cruel, a cruelty none of them were willing to accept.

The sound of desperate footsteps drew closer, and as they did, other sounds became audible. The sound of panting, winces of pain. Then they came. A large number of goblins, some wounded, some not. The goblins seemed shocked to see them, and as the first fumbled for their weapons, Roxie offloaded arrows in quick succession, one after the other, and the first goblins slumped to the ground. The group charged forwards, and the sound of clanging steel echoed through the cavern. Stan met a burly looking goblin, and deflected two swings of his sword, before ducking beneath a third and swiping his sword upwards, straight through the chest of the goblin, who fell to his knees with a whimper of surprise. Before Stan could react, another was upon him. This one was smaller, but faster, and was more of a challenge. Stan found himself deflecting blow after blow, scampering around a melee of fighters which involved Loose, trying to gain a second's rest. He blocked a blow with his shield, before driving upwards and piercing the goblin's skull. The blood curdling scream sent a shiver down Stan's spine, and caused him to pause, kneeling to the floor to catch his breath. He looked around, and realised that the fight was nearly won. He saw Loose, wrestling with a goblin on the floor, while Ponch was engaged in a brawl with a huge goblin, who towered above all others. Stan recognised him, from the clearing the day before, as the goblin called Grimey who had decided they needed to fall back and report to Gustavo. Ponch was a skilled fighter, clearly trained, but this goblin was more than a match for him. He overpowered Ponch, and threw him to the ground metres away, his face breaking out into a grin. Blood flowed down his face, as if he had eaten somebody recently. Worgan went over to help Ponch, but as he arose he shoved him away.

"This scumbag is mineeeeeeee!" He screamed, before lunging forwards once more. Whilst on the floor, he had picked up another sword, from a fallen goblin, and used the two with incredible speed and skill, using one to block whilst swinging with the other. He was going to win. Stan smiled, but his smile turned to a scream of agony as a sharp, piercing pain spread through his calf muscle. He turned back, and to his confusion saw an enormous bolt in it, with blood seeping out of his leg from around it. He turned to see the origin of it, and saw a goblin behind him on the steps, wielding an enormous crossbow. Roxie screamed out in terror for Stan as she saw him loading another bolt, and began to fire off arrow after arrow towards him. The arrows found their target, and the goblin was struck in the arm, thigh, chest and stomach, but he somehow managed to remain in standing, and brought up his crossbow. He aimed it at Stan's head, with Stan in too much pain to even contemplate moving. The goblin looked him in the eye, and Stan looked back at him, trying to hide the fear he knew his eyes must have been showing.

Suddenly, the goblin's eyes looked away, matched with a scream of agony, as Marvin drove a spear through his back from behind. The goblin fell to the ground, collapsing into a heap, leaving Marvin standing triumphantly, spear in hand. His face dropped when he saw the pain in Stan's face, but before he could make his way over to help, another six goblins had arrived. Roxie, Worgan and Loose ran to meet them alongside Marvin, while Stan glanced back over towards Ponch. To his horror, the goblin had somehow overcome Ponch, and was kneeled over him, with Ponch on his back, his nose bleeding heavily. Stan tried to cry out, but saw the others engaged in battle. He crawled over, slowly edging closer towards them. The goblin was taunting Ponch, teasing him before he took his life. Stan crawled closer and closer, but he seemed too far, he couldn't make it....

From nowhere, Stan managed to find the strength to drag himself to his feet, and he limped over to them, the four or five steps agonisingly painful. Grimey was beating Ponch, punch after punch thudding into face, which was a bloody disfiguration. As Stan reached the goblin, he raised his shield, and brought it crashing down on the goblin's head. It immediately knocked him out, leaving Ponch free to roll out from underneath and pull himself to his feet.

"Thank you," Ponch said, grabbing his hand, "you have saved me."

"Don't thank me," Stan replied with a smile, looking down at his shield, "thank my Grandad!"

Behind them, the fighting had stopped. They were all bruised and cut, but other than Stan's leg, they were otherwise unhurt.

"Our best chance is now," Ponch stated, "we will not be able to sprint out when the goblins are all gone now, you cannot walk quick enough," he continued, pointing towards Stan's leg. "We must go now and hope that we can creep out."

The group nodded, in agreement, and Marvin and Roxie put one of Stan's arms each around their shoulders, and helped him to begin to hobble up the steps.
Chapter Twenty One

Each step brought on a fresh twang of pain. No matter how hard Stan tried to push the thought to the back of his mind, the pain was excruciating. It took them triple the amount of time to re-climb the stairs, with Stan, Marvin and Roxie trudging slowly forwards from the rear. Ponch led the way, reluctantly pausing to allow the group to remain one.

Eventually, they reached the top of the stairs, and they spread out along the wall, their backs flat against it to avoid being seen. Ponch peered around the side, glancing back with a confused look.

"There is nothing out there," he whispered, as loudly as he dare.

"Maybe we've got lucky, they must be in another part of the cave," Worgan reasoned, with genuine optimism in his voice.

"I am not so sure," Ponch replied, "but we must hope." He meandered his way to the back of the line, where Stan had slumped down against the floor.

"You are hurt, can you walk?" He asked.

"Yes, of course," Stan replied defiantly, before collapsing in pain as he tried to put weight back on his wounded leg.

Ponch looked to Marvin and Roxie.

"The two of you must help him, I will fight in front of you if it comes to that," he stated, leaving no room for discussion. "We must go now, come quickly, and be quiet."

He gestured towards Worgan, who tiptoed out beyond the wall, while Ponch and Roxie helped to pull Stan up. Cautiously, they edged out into the open, before tiptoeing as fast as they could towards the exit. Worgan and Loose led, while Ponch followed behind Stan, all armed and ready. But no attack was forthcoming. They hurried past goblin corpses, burnt to a crisp, and gold lay flung across the floor in all directions. This made their passage difficult, and slower than the entrance, as they had to go a longer way round, to avoid moving the heavy, potentially loud gold.

"This is ridiculous," Roxie complained, as once again they had to take a long detour around an enormous fallen gold stack. "Surely it won't be that loud if we walk over it?"

As if in answer, Worgan accidently stepped on a piece, and slipped to the floor as he lost his footing on the slick surface. As he fell, he knocked a nearby shield, which was propped up against a goblin's body. The shield twisted on its axis, before dropping to the ground with a loud **CLANG!**

The group stopped, as Loose darted over to help up his brother. Meanwhile, Stan turned to glance back nervously, while Ponch's eyes darted left and right, expecting an attack at any moment. At first, however, they heard nothing. Worgan and Loose made their way back over to the ground, with Loose slapping Roxie on the back as he went. "That is why we don't walk on the gold, my friend!"

They set off again, more carefully now, although if the noise of the falling shield hadn't alerted Gordon or any remaining goblins, then not much would, Stan allowed himself to think.

That was when it came. A sound from afar, from somewhere beneath them. It was a barely audible noise, one that could easily be mistake for the soft growling of an agitated dog. Except for one thing – there were no dogs in this cave.

"RUNNNNNN!!!!" Ponch screamed, before yanking Stan by the collar and dragging him towards Worgan, who duly picked him up and cradled him in his enormous arms, charging towards the great door.

Marvin and Roxie led, with Worgan closely behind, while Ponch and Loose lingered towards the rear, ready to turn and fight Gordon when the time came. Stan could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he was bounced up and down. He was sick and tired of running, he thought. If he made it back to Oadford, he'd lead a simple life. He'd go out on his dad's boat, provide a rebirthing for the family's proud fishing history. Bizarrely, in spite of it all, the thought made him smile. He would like that - a nice, simple life.

He was snapped back to the present by the sound of a roar, which seemed to be from directly beneath them. Stan craned his head to look back, but Ponch continued to sprint for the exit. In front of him, Marvin was moving faster than he'd even seen him move before. He was half the size he'd been just weeks ago. He had probably never moved so much in his life before, Stan thought, before feeling ashamed of his snide comment, even if it had only been mental.

The ferocious, terrifying roar seemed to be growing closer, yet there was no sign of Gordon from anywhere. Finally, the great door came into view, and for the first time Stan allowed himself to believe that they were going to make it.

It was at this point, as Stan allowed hope to creep back into his mind that the floor inches in front of Marvin seemed to crumble. Simultaneously, a huge fireball soared through the bottomless chasm created, closely followed by the head and body of Gordon the Gruesome. Gold and rock was flung in all directions as he burst out, and the floor shook with such vigour that Worgan dropped Stan before flying back and into a large rock. Stan paused for just long enough to take in the sight of Gordon hovering in front of the group, before clambering his way behind a rock for cover. To his relief, as Stan looked to his left, he saw that Marvin had somehow done the same.

With the crackling of huge explosions filling the air, as Gordon hurled fire at his friends, Stan crawled his way over to Marvin, ignoring the crushing devastation of falling so close to the end. As he peered around the corner of the rock offering his only protection, Stan could see the Great Door, teasingly close.

"This way," he yelled, forced to shout over the sound of the ferocious attack. Stan crawled away from the noise and the Great Door, off of the main rocky path cutting through the cave and beneath an overhanging rock face, sandwiching himself between it and the path. Marvin joined at him, his face pale with terror.

"I have an idea!" Stan roared, "We need to get up there!" He pointed upwards, towards the top of the rock face they were squashed under.

To his frustration, Stan could sense the doubt seeping into his friend's mine.

"Stan, we need to stay put, it's obviously the pain that's making you think funny? Ponch will sort this."

Stan cursed, loudly, so loudly that Marvin jumped in his skin, and for a moment Stan felt guilty. He brushed this aside, and hastily revealed his plan. Marvin was silent throughout, and Stan saw what little colour was left, drain from his face, but he nodded, and wriggled out of the gap.

Once the two boys had freed themselves from the hole, they grabbed one another's hand and staggered away from the commotion that was unveiling behind them, praying that their friends would survive long enough for their plan to work. They stumbled from side to side, as they clambered over rocks and boulders, and over countless goblin remains.

The sound of roaring filled Stan's head, as they wound their way up and up, each painful, exhausting step taking them closer to their destination. Flashes of light continued to illuminate the cavern, and at one point Stan heard a stomach churning scream. He forced himself to ignore it, pressing on, as gold and stone tumbled to the ground. Occasionally, they would pass a small opening in the rock face, and catch a glimpse of an enormous, angry dragon tail swatting at anything and everything that it could. They pushed themselves further and further, until finally the rock surface ended.

Stan peered down, looking onto a terrifying scene. Even from this height, Gordon the Gruesome was enormous. His spiky, blood stained tail was thrashing like an angry alligator, and fire was hurling from his mouth like an angry hog-roast, spitting at those who dared come too close. His friends were tiny, but still large enough to make out. Stan felt a tugging at his arm, and spun round to see Marvin, pale and cowering in the corner.

Stan hurried over to him, the adrenalin and fear overcoming his pain. He unpocketed the Emerald, and leaned in close for Marvin to hear.

"Here goes," he said, anxiously, after a long pause.

However, before he got the chance, Marvin threw his arms around him.

"What are you doing??" Stan cried out, but Marvin just hugged him tighter. Stan tried but failed to fight it off, and eventually he succumbed and grabbed a hold of his best friend, holding him closely.

"Thank you for keeping me safe," Marvin finally replied, as he drew away, "you're the best friend I could ever wish for. And I want you to know that it doesn't matter, whether or not we make it. You have done more for me and us than anybody else could do in a million years."

Stan felt himself choking up, and dried his eyes with his grubby sleeve. No matter how much he tried, he couldn't find the words he so desperately wanted to say, and he simply nodded, before re-gathering the Emerald, which had fallen to the floor.

Stan held the Emerald in his hands, twisting it round so as to look at it from all angles. He looked up to Marvin, and tried to forget the fact that the lives of him and his friends were entirely dependent upon a stone. He took a deep breath, before clearing his throat and considering his words one final time. Somehow, the noise from below had faded in Stan's head, and he forgot even of the presence of Marvin.

"Emerald, Emerald, oh mighty creation, let us have a crossbow, with which we can slay this ferocious dragon!" He whispered, not daring to say it any louder, for fear of Gordon hearing. What happened next had to be seen to be believed. Before Stan's eyes, the Emerald began to vibrate, springing in his hand. It twisted and turned, before it grew, spreading out, until it suddenly transformed into an enormous, wooden crossbow, armed with a single, steel bolt. Meanwhile, in his pocket, Stan felt the edges of the Emerald return, pressing firmly against his leg.

"It's huge," Marvin gasped, awestruck.

"It will have to be, to penetrate Gordon's skin!" Stan exclaimed, equally awestruck. "Come on, help me!" He begged, beckoning for Marvin as he tried to carry the mighty weapon to the ledge, stumbling under the weight as he did so.

Marvin hurried over, and soon enough they had the crossbow facing down at the dragon. Stan found himself wishing that he had Roxie with him, rather than Marvin, as she was the best shot by far. But they would have to make do – they had only the one bolt, and they had to make it count.

_Concentrate_ , Stan thought.

He saw the flames, heard the roaring, smelt the blood and sweat and tears. Felt the earth move beneath his feet.

_Concentrate,_ Stan thought.

Stan looked at Marvin. His best friend nodded at him, and Stan knew it to be his sign of readiness. He composed himself.

Concentrate.

Stan fired.
Chapter Twenty Two

3 months later

"Hear ye, hear ye!!" The town crier yelled, clanging his bell. "Please, all make your way to the town square!"

The air was filled with anticipation, the excitement at the big reveal. Hordes of town-folk headed as one down the main path, towards the Mayor's house, outside which the new town square had been assembled. Farmers and fisherman strolled by, still in their work clothes, tools downed early for the day. Children scampered through, singing and playing games. Women chatted and giggled; the young and old, together, united. Greeting them, the Mayor was atop the new platform, laughing with those who had already arrived.

The atmosphere was one of celebration. The guests had been arriving all day, and now that the sun was going down, the square was full to the brim, with those who had travelled from far and wide crowding in to witness the momentous occasion. In the background, the lake glistened, as the final rays of sunshine fell upon it.

"Ahem, your attention please," the Mayor requested, his face contorted in a strange manner, as he strove to avoid the beam he so obviously wanted to show.

His soft voice was lost in the hubbub and excitement of the crowd, and, several failed attempts to gain quiet later, a small, greasy looking man took his place on the stage, whistling loudly.

As one, the crowd hushed, and the man winked at the mayor, before hobbling over to the side of the stage.

"Thank you, Ponch," The Mayor commented, as the man strolled away.

"We are here today," the Mayor began, in a proud, squeaky voice, with his chest puffed out, "to celebrate the rebirthing of our town. We are here today, to celebrate the defeat of our nemesis, the nemesis of generations before us, Gordon the Gruesome!"

This was met with mass cheering and pandemonium.

"Please join me in welcoming onto the stage, our saviours! Please welcome Worgan and Loose, the butcher's brothers!" The two brothers sprang up onto the stage, pints of ale in hand and with one for Ponch, who looked as startled as anyone when it was shoved into his hand.

"You promised, up on that mountain," Worgan said, with a cheeky wink, and a loud, hoarse laugh, which Ponch joined in with, chinking his glass, before all three men gulped messily at their drinks, sparking loud cheers from the crowd.

"Yes, thank you lads," The mayor laughed, "but moving swiftly on," he continued, holding his hand aloft to regain control of the crowd. "If you will, please put your hands together, for the wonderful wizard, our greatest town-member, Maximus!"

The worn, ragged looking wizard put on a brave face and a smile as he limped onto the stage, graciously accepting the welcome with a wave of his hand in all directions. Just as the crowd began to die down, their initial roar of appreciation fading away in disappointment at the wizard's lack of enthusiasm, he exuberantly waved his arms, causing a large, green flare to fly away from his hand, spiralling away into the sky. Seconds later, a blue flare emerged, following the exact trail of the green flare, as it spun off into the sunset.

The crowd shrieked and whooped in delight, before breaking into even more whole hearted applause. Try as he might, the Mayor was unable to dampen down the crowd, and in the confusion and celebrations that followed, the more observant would have noticed Maximus sidle away, off of the stage and into the distance. When at last the Mayor managed to make himself heard, he spoke swiftly, with an excited urgency.

"If I try to introduce these final three individually, we will be here all day, so I think we shall go for all at once! Ladies, gentleman, boys and girls," he cried, clasping his hands together like an excited child during the present giving season, "please allow me to introduce my beautiful daughter, Roxanne, the brave, kind hearted Marvin, and the ingenious, quick thinking, saviour of our town, STAN!!!"

The three walked onto stage, hand in hand, with Stan in the middle, all three unable to suppress their happiness. Roxie broke away from the line, and skipped over to her father, planting a large kiss on his cheek as she threw her arms around him.

"Must you really call me that?" She asked with a laugh.

"Why yes, my Roxanne," the Mayor replied, also laughing, before pulling his daughter into a tight embrace.

On the front row, Stan noticed a small group of children, boys and girls, all playing together, play fighting and duelling. The girls all wore toy crossbows, and were pretending to fire imaginary arrows at one another. He saw two boys further afield, pretending to be handling what seemed to be a heavy, large piece of machinery, almost like an enormous, dragon slaying weapon.

"It's creeping me out, Marvin," he muttered to his friend, continuing to wave and smile.

"What is?" Marvin replied, turning his neck to look at Stan.

"Well, I am sure there is double the number of redheads that there usually are? That can't be coincidence!!"

The boys laughed, finally able to relax, for the first time in what felt like years.

Stan remembered what he had thought to himself in the mountain, as they had fled for the exit. A simple life, he had promised himself, and it was a promise he was going to be sure he kept. He could think of nothing more perfect than boarding his father's fishing boat. The thought made him smile differently; a quieter, more private smile.

In the distance, he heard the Mayor's voice, and something about how the gold from the mountain had been used for this and that, and there was more applause. The stage members all turned, and Stan felt himself doing the same, despite having no awareness of telling his body to do so. He saw the huge blanket being torn down, to reveal an enormous, gold statue of Stan and Marvin, slaying Gordon the Gruesome. Stan took none of it in though. All he could think of was his fishing trip.
Epilogue

His head hurt – a lot. Grimey pulled himself up, and took in his surroundings. Goblin bodies lay throughout the cavern. He spat blood out to his left, and began to head back up the steps.

Once he reached the top, he saw a sea of bodies everywhere. Gold tarnished with blood covered the floor, and atop it were goblins, goblins everywhere. Burnt, singed, some headless – his people had been destroyed. He trudged through the bodies, with no caution whatsoever, ready to kill whatever came before him. To his surprise, after a while, he came across the body of Gordon. He was truly enormous, Grimey contemplated, as he stepped over him, stripping him of some skin first, for a new sheath – his had somehow been lost in the confusion.

As he stepped out into the light, he had to shield his eyes against the sun. It had been a long time since he had seen the sun; he estimated that he had been unconscious for several days. As his eyes readjusted to the light, he noticed a non-goblin body beneath a tree on the horizon. He trudged over, curious. As he did so, he reflected on what had happened. He cursed his idiocy – he had toyed with the foreigner and he had paid. It was not a mistake he intended on making again.

As he reached the tree, he paused for water, from a small stream, before bending down to roll over the body and reveal the face. When he saw the identity, he recoiled in horror. His stomach lurched, and he struggled to prevent himself from throwing up anything his stomach had left within it.

For the body belonged to the man who had found him stealing in a forest all those years ago. The man who had taught and trained him, to make him who he now was. For the first time in his life, Grimey felt sadness. He took one last look at the body, before forcing himself away and heading towards the mountain edge. He gazed out across the horizon. It was a clear day, and he could easily see the fishing town of Oadford. The lake seemed to glisten, and he thought he could make out a large group of people celebrating.

The boy would be there, he knew, and he wanted nothing more than to trudge down and kill every single person who stopped him from reaching him. But he resisted. Now was not the right time. He was in a position of weakness, the very worse time to make a decision of importance. No, he would retreat back, regroup. He would let the boy have this one day, and the next, and many more after that. He could go back to his normal life, forget all about the events on the mountain. But Grimey would never forget. It could take a day, a week, even a year.

The boy would pay.
A massive thank you for reading my book, I really hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I have loved writing it. If you could spare a few minutes of your precious time, I would greatly appreciate any reviews left at your favourite retailer.

Stan, Marvin and Roxie will be returning with two new adventures in 2016.

Thank you,

Ben Walsh.

August 2015

About Ben Walsh

Ben Walsh is a student from Leicester, England, currently studying physiotherapy in Sheffield.

He enjoys reading legal and crime thrillers and fantasy. His debut novel, 'The Adventure of Stan and the Emerald of Foundation' is out now.

Connect with Ben Walsh

Follow him on twitter<https://twitter.com/BenWalsh95>

Visit his website<https://adventureofstanword.wordpress.com/>
