Chapter 3: Chapter 3 – Getting Stoned with Goblins

Grogg the level 3 [Skirmisher] fell down on the field, an arrow in his arm. It hurt oh so much, but he gritted his teeth, and rose up—only for another arrow to swish right above his head.

“Bastards!”

Screaming, growling, he threw himself down, the wooden spear at his back useless. He could not get close! The foes were relentless with their ammunition!

The melee fighters had pulled off each other after the initial skirmish, and half of them now lay dead, dripping a rich river of crimson onto the windy hilltop. The others were staying back to nurse their wounds, letting the ranged fighters take control of the field.

But they could not take it back. All charges broke against the barrage of arrows.

Grogg felt despair and rage gripping him, all his hard training—useless! He could not even get close enough to poke his spear in! He rolled to the side, dodging another arrow, then saw the pebble on the ground.

A pebble that was… the perfect size. Covered in grime, but the heft of it… Grogg’s youth ran through his mind. Once, before the fiends before him had slaughtered his kin like animals—he had played a game with his brother.

A simple game of children, throwing rocks.

Slowly, playing dead, Grogg reached out and grabbed the pebble. A stone that was really... just nice. Had circumstances been different, he would have started a rock collection then and there. A bit on the heavier side, but that only made him smile. More damage.

Lightning fast, he jumped to his feet, hefting the stone up with once-mastered technique, somehow still stored deep inside his muscles. With a prayer to heaven, he readied himself for the throw of his life. This one’s for you, Grugg.

He pitched the stone forward, but the wound at his arm made him stumble at the last moment, and he lost his footing. The throw went off course, and Grogg yelled out a curse, falling back down to the ground. Arrows were thick in the air, but he still focused on that pebble, cursing how it was… not going off course? His eyes widened, and the rage of battle faded as he focused on that miraculous flight.

Gradually, with eerie precision, the rock’s trajectory changed. Rightward and rightward, and then when a wide-eyed goblin tried to dodge, it unerringly followed the sideward jump. A smashing hit right to the skull.

Grogg jumped up, heart filled with newfound faith, and praised all the Gods and Goddesses of the world. “My brother! Your spirit of vengeance still lives on!”

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Then he paused. A goblin on the other side had picked the pebble up, and was aiming it at him.

Chuckling confidently, Grogg fell into a ready crouch, wound up. Because he was ready, he would not be caught unaware. He would zig if it zagged, zag if it zigged. The foe hefted the pebble up, spinning it around in his hand, and then the rock was thrown, right at him.

He used [Skirmisher’s Dodge], and leaped five feet to the side in one bounding step.

He landed on his side, head up, searching for that rock. His eyes widened.

It was heading right fo—

THUNK

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