The pitter pattering of small feet echoed through the wood. Over dry leaf and the occasional stick they made no effort to conceal their presence. The sound was mingled further with that of laughter and yelling. Kids playing as they pranced through the forest.
It was mid day then, and they all knew the area well. Three they were. Two boys and one girl. The boys carried sticks in their hands that they swung at trees or each other. Pretending to be noble swordsman.
The girl carried a sling that she would use to pelt the boys with acorns from a distance, to which they would holler and give chase.
The game continued like this for quite some time as they moved. "Harold! Stand fast! Feel my blade!" The younger boy said. He charged the older lad with his blonde hair and sharp grin.
He didn't make it far as the root of an oak tree tripped him in his stride. He wobbled and nearly fell, catching himself on the ancient trunk.
It didn't stop his friends from laughing as Harold said, "Ha! Look Greta! How scary he is!" The younger boy frowned slightly and lashed out with his 'blade'.
To which Harold hit away with his own stick and gave him a quick whack on the leg. It stung a little but it wasn't a hard hit. "Ouch!" He said, to which Harold replied, "oh come now Alder... that didn't hurt you. A swordsman must be able to withstand great pain!" To which he began to swing his stick wildly, Alder trying to block but getting the occasional hit here and there.
Amidst the blows a 'whoosh' and a thud stopped Harold in his tracks as he dropped his stick and waved his hand around madly. There was a small welt where Greta had used her slingshot.
"That's enough of that! He's only 8! Don't pick on him!"
Harold's sister had much of the same look as he, especially since they were twins. Her blonde hair and blue eyes much more stunning in Alder's eye though.
They all stopped their fighting then as they agreed to keep moving towards the spot. THE spot to play, Old-cliff waterfall.
It was a place where they could swim and splash and watch the twenty foot cascade of water as it crashed into the pool below. In the heat of mid day it was a much welcomed relief to be near the cool mist of the waterfall.
They stepped surely through the wood. The path long since carved into their minds.
Alder followed close behind Greta. He often followed the older kids as they knew more than he did. He would never admit that to them though.
The forest gained a different light in his young eye. One of enchantment and mystery. The oak and birch seemed like giants. The shade under their magnificent canopies a realm of dark wonder... and at times fear.
A stray shadow under some brush would make him jump. Reminding him of the orcs and goblins his parents warned him of. The stories that all the villager's parents told. Of being careful and wary. Of making sure not to stray too far or take any risk.
Alder felt safe with his friends though. Knowing full well that they knew what they were doing. "Step... step..." they moved. Some ten minutes into their walk through the wood. The trees were so dense that they heard the crashing waterfall before they saw it. A steady "whoosh!" As the heavy curtain slammed into the pool below.
"I hear it" Greta said, to which the other two nodded and responded by quickening their pace.
The two boys sprinted out from the wood into a small clearing. To the left was the towering waterfall and ahead and to the right the river with it's wide gravel banks. Alder wanted nothing more than to dive in to the cool running water. To wade in the waist deep part.
Harold immediately went off to a section near the water where he rummaged through some rocks. Alder knew what he was getting before the boy pulled it out, and sure enough he produced it: a crude fishing rod. It was wrought with a tough tree branch to some string, With a simple bone hook on the end. Harold had only ever caught one fish with it before, but still tried every time they went to the waterfall.
The fish he caught wasn't even worth eating from what Alder remembered. He watched Greta roll her eyes as she turned herself to look for stones. She would pick up the good round ones for her sling or skip the flat ones on the river. Alder liked skipping stones too and they would occasionally have contests to see who could do it the furthest. He would also help her look for "precious stones" as they called them. Shiny, worthless stones that she would use to make crude jewelry or he would keep in his collection at home. He had quite the collection.
The three settled in to their routine of play. Harold sat down on a large flat rock and casually tossed his line into a deep, calm section of the river. Greta loading her sling pouch with stones while Alder splashed and swam in the shallow part near the waterfall itself. He was wary not to get too close, knowing full well how dangerous the crashing tons of water could be. He got just close enough that he could feel the spray and enjoy swimming and wading.
As Alder paddled around and the other two were off doing their own thing, something drew his eye. On the opposite shore there was something man-made. He got excited in the way that kids do when they think they've found treasure and he walked carefully through the waist-deep (for him chest deep) river.
It was only twenty feet across and in no time he found himself standing on the opposite shore. He walked around a large rock to get a better view of the shiny object. "A sword" he thought to himself. He bent down and picked it up. It was tiny and roughly made, with a wooden handle and a stone blade held together by sinew or something similar. "Hey! Guys! Look what I found!" He called to his friends, who both turned to look at him. He stood waving the blade, proudly showing it off.
They both stopped what they were doing and hurried down the river bank opposite of him to get a closer look. "Where did you find that Alder?" Greta said, Harold seconding her question with "yeah where?" He pointed to the spot behind the large rock where it was laying and they both looked at each other questioningly.
"Weird... that someone would leave a sword..." their thoughts and questions were interrupted then, by a strange sound. It was coming from the side of the forest closest to the village, where they had just come from.
It was rustling, like the sound of something moving. Except it was many somethings. There also were occasional squeaks or grunts. The kids stood watching, in fear and awe at what might to come.
"I think it's boar.." Harold said.
Alder watched Greta nod and pull out a large stone for her sling. It wouldn't do much but it might scare off a boar if she hit it hard enough.
It grew louder and louder, as the youngins remained petrified in wonder. Alder's chest was beating hard and he gripped the small blade in his hand. All at once they saw what it was and panic filled their hearts.
"Goblins.." Harold said first. There were four or five of them, and they immediately noticed the kids.
The grunts turned into screams as they pointed their crude weapons at the children and began to charge. A quick and clumsy dash with their stone swords and spears.
Alder's friends dove into the river, clamoring to get across while he himself stood stunned. He noticed As the goblins grew nearer that one had a blade just like the one he held.
Alder exhaled hard and threw it to the ground, "it was a goblin blade..." it was reflexive, as if the object was cursed.
The heavy splash of his two friends wading and yelling brought him back to reality and he hurried to the shore to grasp at their hands and pull them out.
The goblins weren't far behind.
By the time they were out and running together down the bank of the river, The goblins were nearly across the water. Their high pitched squeals spoke to the vile acts they had in store for the children if they caught them.
Alder was slower than the other two and pushed his little feet as hard as he could on the ground. It didn't help his shoes and clothes were on the opposite side of the river.
"Run Alder! Come on!" Greta called, looking back over her shoulder to encourage the 8 year old boy. Her eyes filled with equal parts determination and fear.
He hustled as best as he could, nearly slipping on a smooth stone at one point. It didn't matter though, the goblins were getting closer.
Alder glanced over his shoulder at the small beasts. They were no bigger than he was, but their black eyes and pig-snout green faces with large fangs made up for the lack of stature.
His friends pulled further and further ahead, Alder crying and screaming out all the while. They didn't look back though and two steps later he felt something push him down, his head colliding with the gravel earth below.
He cried out in pain and turned to see a goblin raise a stone club in the air, dancing from one foot to the other as if it was proud of it's catch. A hunter that had caught it's prey. It reared back and Alder screamed and braved himself for the blow, aimed right for his head.
He closed his eyes amidst the tears and wailing and felt a large "thump" before the world went black...