Welby and Drake

The Invasion

   Welby was known as the Wattler. That was what he was good at. The other halflings in Goodberry knew his skills and he was decently compensated for it. He had spent plenty of time coming up with the precise combination of soil, clay, straw, animal dung and sand, and it took a certain skill to create a lattice fence that did not fall over after a thunderstorm. He was content to ply his trade, feed the livestock, grow gardenias and broccoli, and spend his days within the confines of Goodberry village with his constant companion, the duck he called Dob. Dob was a duck with off-white plumage and a pink bill, though there was a distinguishing black mark on his forehead.

  That is, until one day Dob started speaking to Welby. Welby had known Dob since he was a duckling. The two had become constant companions, and Dob even had a special place to sleep every night next to Welby's bed. When Welby did his chores Dob would accompany the portly halfling, and Welby talked through his process telling Dob what he was doing. The duck was always a willing audience and never judged.

  The village of Goodberry prided itself on its unchanging nature. There were only about a dozen families here, that specialised in the growth of Starberries and the liquor it produced. The families that produced it were wealthy, though careful to guard their funds one almost thought they had some dwarvish blood in them. Welby didn't mind it; he was satisfied with the coin he received for his work. It was enough for him to purchase grape pies, and the candles that he lit every night for his parents, who had passed away from the same illness within a week of each other when Welby's feet had not even had hair.

  Welby would have been happy passing his life wattling and earning money for pies. But things changed one sunny day that seemed like any other.

  This would have been sufficient for Welby's life, until the day the Bonecruncher tribe decided to launch a raid against the village. The goblins came from nowhere and were unexpected. The village was secluded, and surrounded by human towns and settlements, but the goblins had slipped through the defenses and the village was a prime target.

  Welby was repairing the fence of the Vialy's when they struck. Dob was next to him, darting around. The duck was always filled with energy.

  "Look at that fence, Dob. Isn't it a beauty?" Welby said.

  Dob didn't seem too interested. It craned its neck.

  "What are you so anxious about? I fed you more than your usual share of grain this morning. I'll make it up to you in the evening," Welby said, continuing to even out the composition of mud he was placing on the lattice. "See? That'll allow for vines to grow throughout. This is going to look lovely, especially when the flowers bloom."  And then it happened.  "You better hide," Dob said.  "What? Who was that?" Welby said, looking around. Was it another trick played by the Bulford rascals?  "It's me, Dob." the duck said. Well, it didn't quite say it. Welby heard the voice in his mind.  "Wh-what? Dob? Oh dear, is this because of the wine I had last night?"  "No. It's a warning. There's an attack coming," Dob said. "I'm... not an ordinary duck."  "But you are. I mean ... "  "Let's just say I had an awakening last night. The moon was full and I saw a vision, and then a lot of things happened because the town is going to come under attack," Dob said.  "By whom? Nobody has attacked the village, unless you count that runaway bull three decades ago."  "It's going to be worse. It's a force of goblins. Not a big force, but if we don't run, we're going to be amongst the dead and I'll be served as dinner to their chief. You haven't seen them but they've been prowling around, hiding in barns and trees and yes, behind the wattles."  "I can't believe I'm talking to you," Welby said.  "You talk to me all the time. And now, I'm responding," Dob said. "By the way, you should call me Drake."  "Drake? What is that?"  "I have dragon blood in me."  "Oh I'm sure. WHOEVER IS DOING THIS TRICK COME OUT NOW!"  There was no response. Dob/Drake shook its head.   "So are you going to help save the villagers or not?"  "I-I'll do what I can. I mean, if the village is gone.."  "It's probably too late to save the village, Welby. I think the best thing is to help them get away before the goblins strike."  "Is this some trick? And how will they believe me?"  "Climb up the tree, Welby. You'll see. The apple tree that you used to climb when you were a lad," Drake said.  "But that was years ago," Welby protested. He looked around, afraid someone was watching.   .  "So you'll believe me?"  "All right. All right," Welby said. He stomped towards the tree, placing his pail of carefully prepared wattle in the shade. The tree seemed higher than he remembered.  "Come on now," Drake said. "The goblins aren't going to wait."  "This is a trick, I'm sure. Or I had too much Starberry wine. M-might be a bad batch..."  "I wish it was the case. Do you need a lift?"  "I'll t-try," Welby said. He jumped on the trunk of the tree and instantly started sliding down. He thought he heard Drake sigh.  "Look, it's not easy. You try it," Welby said.  "I don't have hands."  "Since you've the blood of a dragon maybe you can fly up then?"  "No, I'm afraid you've always known I've had troubles with my wings."  "All right, all right. I'm going to give it another go."  "I'm sure the goblins can wait all day," Drake said.   "That's s-sarcasm isn't it?" Welby said. The bards in the village were good at it, and Welby often found himself the target of the jibes.   Welby grabbed the trunk and started to climb. He dangled a bit and felt himself starting to slide, then he grabbed for the branch and pulled himself up. The branch creaked in protest, and Welby expected it to snap, but it held. He continued to climb, and each move became easier.  "That's it," he heard Drake speak. "Peer left, towards the cottage of the Dingles."  The leaves were in his face, and he didn't dare let go. He was higher than he had ever climbed, higher than his barrow and he could see the village spread out. It looked peaceful, idyllic. He squinted towards the Dingle's cottage, and he saw what Drake was warning him about. There was a pair of little green creatures there, armed with rusty looking daggers and shortbows. Welby once again thought if it was a prank.  "You placed them there, didn't you?" He mindwhispered.  "Do I look like I could have negotiated with a couple of goblins? No. They've been there, stalking around."  "How do you k-know they're g-goblins?"  "I can see what you see. If you get close enough, they have sharp teeth. And look how they're moving around. Do they look like they're about to order some pies?" "It could be the Whitetail c-children dressed u-up."

 "Look into your heart, Welby. What do you think you saw?"
 "Well... " He slid down the tree. "I have to go look at them."
  "You think they'll let you have a good look to determine whether they're goblins? They're a feral bloodthirsty bunch of killers, Welby, not misshapen potatoes to be examined."
  "And w-what should I do now?"
  "Get a weapon."
  "I don't have anything besides the knife in the kitchen," he said.
  "Sigh. Yes.."
  "Wait, the w-Whitetails. Didn't they m-mention they had an a-ancestor who f-fought during the Wars of the V-Vale?"
  "Well, I wasn't there to hear it," Drake said.
 "D-Derrick said he still had a c-crossbow from that ancestor, along with a couple of b-bolts. Kept it somewhere in the house. O-Out of reach of the children. Joked t-that he could use it against any O-O-Ogres that dared to attack."
  "It isn't another boast, is it?" 
  "I don't think so. Let me g-go grab what I can from the house, D-Drake, and we'll go inform them about the g-goblins." Welby said. He still wasn't relishing the thought of facing goblins, but if they had to do so they had to do it together.