The smith took a moment to examine the fine long blade. It was well made, one of the best he’d seen, and unadorned. A fine, practical weapon. He discarded the goblin blade he’d scavenged, and his shield. It still had arrows sticking out of it, and probably wouldn’t have survived another battle anway. “Shall we?” asked Roderick, and Brandt nodded. He bent down to unbelt the baldric that held Jurgen’s scabbard, trying to do so with as much care as possible. Brandt told himself it was a matter of respect, and not because the bloated throat and the pink-red spiderweb of burst blood vessels made his stomach lurch. He strapped the wide leather belt on and took point at the front of the column, assuming Jurgen’s place as the best armed. 

Lord Waldo followed behind and Priska afterwards, and Brandt heard sniffling and the occasional choked off sob, though he wasn’t sure from whom. Roderick and Maria walked behind them, and Brandt drew courage from their presence. They would miss Maria’s crossbow, and if it were up to Brandt they’d keep it just in case… though in case of what, he wasn’t sure. He lead them east, as Maria suggested, and as they walked Brandt felt a determination to see the five of them out of the forest. That determination fueled his stride, and despite the pain in his arm from the still throbbing wound, he set a brisk pace.

They spent that night huddled together in a hollow created by the roots of a fallen tree, with Roderick, Brandt and Maria taking turns on watch. None of the five of them slept well that night, though they were undisturbed, and in the morning they set out again with Brandt in the lead, after Roderick saw to his arm. According to the priest, it was starting to heal. None of them spoke much, eyes and ears alert for goblins or some other threat from the Drakwald.

“Do you think we’ve lost them?” Brandt asked later in the day.

“Everything I’ve heard says the goblins are cowards,” replied Maria. “Maybe we beat them and scared them off.”

“You’re right,” spoke Waldo, startling them. “My father's armsman taught me about greenskins. They always follow the biggest and toughest one, and when you fight them it’s best to try to kill that one, as they’ll often run away. Then they fight amongst themselves until there’s a new leader.”

They group paused, considering it. Priska sniffed; she’d developed a runny nose.

“Well good,” Brandt said at last. “Thank you, uh, m’lord.”

“We’re not out of the woods yet, but that is good news,” added Roderick, trying a smile to Maria and Brandt.