Goblins of Hobb's End 2: An Urban Fantasy by Josh Kendig

Author:Josh Kendig [Kendig, Josh]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Royal Guard Publishing LLC
Published: 2025-06-28T00:00:00+00:00

Brom groaned, stumbling into his room. So much ale and mead had caught the elf off guard. Yet he managed to make it to his quarters. He heard how much it had cost and took note to make sure to repay Clive. Some gold in return would do the trick. He groaned again as he reminded himself about the mission at hand.

His sister’s words echoed in his head: “We must restore the Foxwind honor. Make sure he doesn’t survive the dragon attack.”

He groaned, rubbing his head. “Can I really do it?” he muttered to himself, his heart racing.

But then he heard a familiar voice. “Brom, are you all right?” It was a soft voice, a younger voice.

“Ichabod?” Brom muttered, whirling round, but saw nothing. He shook his head. “Maybe it was my imagination… I had too much to drink,” Brom said as he sat down on the bed and thought back to his twin.

He remembered when he and Ichabod had gone out into the forest, wooden swords in hand. If he remembered correctly, they were small, maybe close to being teens. It was hard to remember – years blended together after a while. An elf’s life seemed so long, compared to those of other species.

But he remembered calling out to Ichabod: “One day I’ll be a famous knight, and everyone will know my name!” Brom boasted, back when he dreamed of recognition, of times where he could save others. To be the hero who made others smile.

“Yeah, and I’ll be your sidekick, the greatest sorcerer in the world!” Ichabod responded, a wide smile on his face, his hand glowing as he summoned up a light breeze of wind to fan them. Sure, it was nothing compared to what the teachers their father had presented to Ichabod could do. But he was learning. Maybe one day he would have become stronger than the old man.

Brom wiped his eyes, thinking about that. It had been one of the best times of their lives.

Then he heard the screaming off in the distance. One begging for help. Over and over again.

Brom and Ichabod had been foolish kids, then. If he’d known then what he knew now they’d have never gone out there. Yet the call ran over them. The call for adventure.

Then Brom’s thoughts were interrupted. Someone was at his door.

Brom walked towards the door and opened it. Yet he found that there was no one there. He shook his head but finally he closed the door, thinking maybe it had been his imagination.

Yet a voice still seemed to be whispering in his ear: “Avenge me, brother – make them pay.” Brom whirled around, trying to see where the voice had come from but found he was all alone. A cold sweat ran down Brom’s back, and he reached out and grabbed his sword, unsheathing it. The ring of the cool steel filled the air.

That was when a knock on the door came again, and Brom, irritated, walked over and pulled it open, raising the sword.

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