My planet is infested with Goblins

By the time Captain Edric Vane and the surviving guards reached Brackenford, the village already knew something had gone wrong. The eastern gate opened slowly as the watchmen recognized them, but whatever relief the guards might have felt vanished the moment the villagers saw the bodies being carried behind them.

Three dead men had been tied to makeshift stretchers fashioned from spears and cloaks. Two more guards leaned heavily against their companions, blood soaking through bandages wrapped around a thigh and shoulder.

Behind them came the strangest sight of all: four small green-skinned corpses dressed in unfamiliar armor and carrying weapons unlike anything most of Brackenford had ever seen.

Farmers abandoned carts near the road, children were hurried indoors, and shopkeepers stepped into the street as whispers spread faster than Edric could stop them.

"Get the wounded to Mara’s house," Edric ordered as soon as he passed through the gate.

"The dead go to the guardhouse until their families are informed. Those creatures go inside as well. Cover them."

One of the watchmen looked uncertainly at the goblin bodies.

"What are they?"

Edric did not slow.

"I don’t know."

That answer traveled through the gathering crowd almost as quickly as everything else. By the time Edric reached the guardhouse, people were already calling the dead creatures forest demons, green raiders, or servants of some eastern curse. He ignored the rumors. His concern was the evidence.

He personally checked that the recovered goblin weapons, pieces of armor, packs, strange writing materials, and partially completed map were secured on a table inside the guardhouse. Only after everything had been accounted for did he allow himself to sit long enough for another guard to bind a shallow cut along his forearm.

He had barely finished when a messenger arrived from the village hall.

"Captain, Mayor Marr wants you immediately. The elders are already gathering."

Edric stood.

"Tell him I’m coming."

The village hall was a two-story timber building near Brackenford’s central well, used for tax records, disputes, harvest meetings, and the occasional visiting official.

When Edric entered, Mayor Aldren Marr was already seated at the head of the long council table. Aldren was a heavyset man in his fifties with thinning gray hair and the permanent expression of someone forced to solve more problems than his office was designed to handle.

Four village elders sat around him: Master Pell from the largest farming family, Mistress Sera who represented the merchants, Elder Harn from the local temple, and Old Benrick, whose family owned much of the pastureland west of the village.

Every one of them looked toward Edric’s bloodstained armor.

Aldren stood.

"Sit down."

"I’m fine."

"Please mak yourself comfortable."

Edric sat.

The mayor remained standing.

"Tell us exactly what happened. No rumors. No guesses."

Edric nodded.

"We encountered seven unknown humanoids east of the charcoal trail, near the old stream crossing. Small. Green skin. Armed and equipped."

Master Pell frowned.

"You mean goblins?"

"If that is what you want to call them."

"You’ve seen goblins before?"

"No."

Edric’s answer silenced him.

"We found seven. Four are dead. Three escaped east. I took eight men including myself. Three of ours are dead. Two wounded."

Mistress Sera stared at him.

"Seven small creatures killed three trained guards?"

"Yes."

"That sounds impossible."

"I watched it happen."

Edric removed the folded scrap of unfamiliar material from inside his coat and placed it on the table.

"They were not wild animals. They moved like soldiers. They used cover, protected one another, and targeted weak points. They had scouts watching the road before we approached."

Aldren looked at the strange markings.

"What is that?"

"A map."

Benrick leaned forward.

"That?"

"It is unfinished, but look here."

Edric pointed to a line scratched across the material.

"That is the eastern road. This curve is the stream. This mark matches the ridge above the crossing."

The elders leaned closer.

Harn touched the edge cautiously.

"The writing is not Caldrin."

"It is not anything I recognize."

"Could it be from across the eastern mountains?"

"Maybe. But I have seen traders and captured gear from the border kingdoms. None of this looks like theirs."

Aldren sat back down.

"You brought more?"

"Armor, weapons, supplies, and the bodies."

That caused a brief silence.

Mistress Sera looked toward the door.

"You brought the corpses inside the village?"

"Yes."

"Do you know if they carry disease?"

"No."

Her face tightened.

"Great! It shouldn’tbring any problem right?."

Edric ignored the remark.

"You need to see the equipment."

Aldren gestured to the messenger standing near the wall.

"Bring it."

Several minutes later, two guards entered carrying a goblin spear, a compact crossbow, a leather chest piece, and one of the dead scout’s packs. They laid everything across the council table.

The elders examined the objects in growing discomfort.

Master Pell picked up the goblin blade.

"This is forged."

Edric nodded.

"Looks like it was made by a veteran craftsman."

Sera turned the armor over.

"And this looks made to a pattern."

"It is."

Benrick opened the pack and removed a coil of rope, wrapped dried food, spare cord, a small metal tool, and several pieces of writing material.

"These are soldiers."

Edric looked at him.

"That is what I have been saying."

Harn folded his hands.

"Then whose soldiers?"

No one answered.

Aldren looked from one object to another.

"Could a neighboring kingdom be using them?"

Edric considered the question before answering.

"Possibly, but I doubt it. Their language was unfamiliar. Their weapons are unfamiliar. Their equipment is unfamiliar. More importantly, they did not behave like mercenaries attached to a human army."

"How would you know?"

"Because mercenaries still use roads. They still camp near supply routes. These seven were mapping us from the forest it as if they’reunfamiliar in this region."

Master Pell rubbed his beard.

"If they were scouts, then where is the force they belong to?"

Edric looked at him.

"That is the question we need answers to."

The room became noticeably colder despite the afternoon heat pressing against the walls.

Benrick leaned back.

"How far east did you follow them?"

"We did not follow them. We were too injured."

"You should have killed all seven."

Edric stared at him.

"Three of my men were already dead."

Benrick looked away.

"The survivors know where we are now," Edric continued. "Even if they did not know Brackenford before, they know Caldris soldiers patrol that road. They know we fought them. They know four of their scouts died."

Mistress Sera folded her arms.

"So what do you want us to do? Empty the village?"

Master Pell immediately objected.

"Absolutely not. Harvest is less than a month away."

"If an army is coming, grain will not matter."

"You do not know an army is coming."

"No, but I know seven scouts do not usually travel without someone behind them."

Voices began rising around the table.

Harn suggested sending families west toward larger settlements. Pell argued that such an order would cause panic across the entire region. Sera warned that merchants would stop using Brackenford’s road if stories about green creatures spread. Benrick wanted every able-bodied man armed by nightfall.

Edric listened until the argument became circular.

"They are not monsters."

The elders stopped.

Edric looked around the table.

"Stop calling them monsters. Whatever they are, they are soldiers. Treat them like soldiers."

Aldren nodded slowly.

"What do you recommend?"

"Send word to the provincial capital immediately."

That answer produced less resistance than Edric expected.

Aldren looked toward the village scribe seated at the far end of the room.

"Eastwatch?"

"Yes," Edric said. "This is beyond Brackenford."

Eastwatch was the administrative and military capital responsible for much of the eastern province. Its stone walls, professional garrison, and noble offices made Brackenford look insignificant by comparison.

Aldren turned to the scribe.

"Write."

The scribe dipped his quill.

Edric dictated carefully.

"Seven unknown green-skinned humanoids encountered east of Brackenford. Approximately the height of a small adult or adolescent human. Armed with standardized weapons and wearing organized equipment. Evidence indicates military reconnaissance activity."

The quill scratched rapidly.

"Four enemy scouts killed. Three escaped eastward. Brackenford losses: three guards killed, two wounded. Unknown total enemy strength. Possible hostile force operating within the eastern province."

Aldren added:

"Request immediate investigation and military assistance."

The scribe nodded and continued writing.

Mistress Sera tapped the recovered map.

"Send this too."

Edric agreed.

"And a weapon."

Benrick frowned.

"A weapon can be dismissed as strange craftsmanship."

Edric looked toward him.

"Then send a body."

The room fell silent.

Harn’s expression hardened.

"You want to send a corpse to Eastwatch?"

"I want them to believe us."

Aldren considered it.

"He is right."

The mayor looked toward the guards.

"Preserve one as best you can. Wrap it. The armor, weapon, map, and writing go with it."

Sera exhaled slowly.

"That will certainly get their attention."

The council then turned to Brackenford’s immediate defenses. Aldren ordered the eastern gate kept closed except for patrols. Farmers with fields closest to the forest would be brought back before sunset. Night watches would be doubled, and hunters would be instructed to report strange tracks, smoke, or movement. Two neighboring villages would receive short warnings about unknown armed scouts, but Aldren specifically forbade dramatic language about demons or invasion.

"We do not know enough yet," he said. "Panicking helps no one."

Edric agreed, though he privately wondered whether panic would eventually prove justified.

By evening, the official report had been copied twice and sealed with Brackenford’s village mark. Two reliable riders were chosen. One would carry the documents beneath his coat. The other would help transport the wrapped goblin corpse and recovered equipment on a small cart until they reached a better road, after which both would continue toward Eastwatch as quickly as possible.

Aldren met them at the western gate.

"Do not stop unless the horses require it. This reaches Eastwatch before tomorrow night."

"Yes, Mayor."

Edric stood nearby as the gates opened.

The riders departed beneath the fading light, one mounted ahead and the other guiding the small cart behind him. Villagers watched silently from windows and doorways, though few knew exactly what they carried.

Aldren folded his arms.

"You think Eastwatch will take this seriously?"

Edric watched the riders disappear down the road.

"They will when they see the bodies."

"And if they do not?"

Edric looked eastward, toward the forest now hidden behind Brackenford’s houses and palisade.

"Then we had better hope seven was all there were."

Neither man believed that.

By nightfall, Brackenford’s gates were closed, additional torches burned along the palisade, and every guard who could still stand had been assigned a watch. Far to the west, two riders carried the first official warning toward the provincial capital.

Four unknown scouts were dead.

Three had escaped.

And for the first time, eastern Caldris had begun sending word that something unfamiliar was moving inside its borders.

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