Not long after his meal of larvae, he finally found a clearing in the forest large enough for him to identify the constellations and perhaps know how far he was from the village. The gods were merciful to the goblin as there was nary a cloud in the night sky and the twinkling of distant stars could be seen with clarity. He was a seasoned survivalist and knew over a dozen constellations that would tell him which direction he was facing. After locating the Cavia Oriental and the Southern Star, Griz knew that he was walking northward. Ironic considering that he was trying to move away from Orc territory but instead was heading [b][i]deeper[/i][/b] into it. It was a miracle that he had not encountered any traps, what more, any patrols. 

After reorienting himself to face South East he let a quiet prayer of thanks to the goddess of stars and gazed upon her celestial canvas one more time before he started walking again. There was one star he would solely focus on. It was a lone star that was not part of any constellations, major or minor, he had learned or heard about nor was it the biggest and most brilliant star there was in the sky. Still, the sight of it brought a smile on his face and filled him with a sense of comfort...of grief and anger to a lesser extent. It was one star he would never forget in a million years. It was her star after all. He gave the star a faint nod before leaving. [hr] [color=khaki]Of all the times his luck and favor from the divines to run out, why did it have to be gaking now?![/color] Griz lamented mentally as he ducked underneath a chop of an orcish axe, by mere inches, that would have easily cleaved him twice over. Made more clear as the crude axe blade imbedded itself deep into a tree twice Griz's width. [color=red][i][b]"Gah! Stand still ya weazly thivin' grot!"[/b][/i][/color] His brutish pursuer roared at him as he promptly ignored it and kept running for his life and keeping the burlap sack gripped tightly in both his hands. The goblin was regretting the decision to take the thing, but better in his hands than the orc's. Another swipe barely misses him and causes the loose earth beside him to propel upwards, showering both in bits of dirt and stone.

Fighting was out of the question, especially after a single strike from the brute had half broken his knife as he parried a lethal blow. If he were to survive this night, he was almost sure Koglan would tan his hide for letting this happen to one of his. He just hoped that the contents of the sack would be enough to justify keeping him alive. But that was a problem for future Griz, he needed to focus on surviving this encounter first before anything else. Outrunning the orc would have been child's play for the goblin under normal circumstances, but with the added weight of the sack made the escape far more difficult than it needs to be, compounded with the orc's reckless axe swinging.

Then a slip-up...

He had failed to spot the mud and before he could react fast enough, he lost traction and slipped. Everything went in slow motion. First, he slipped, then the orc. It seemed that there was still some luck in play. Griz scrambled to his feet and drew his half-broken knife and slammed the knife into the prone orc's throat. The effect was immediate as the brutish humanoid slammed his fist into the goblin's ribs sending him three feet to the side. Clutching to his severely wounded throat, the orc's eyes filled with bestial anger and was on the goblin in a second. Wringing Griz's throat and slowly squeezing the life out of him. Struggle as he liked, it was a completely one-sided battle and the corners of his vision were getting darker and darker each passing moment. Griz had to act now or die. Mustering all his might into his legs, he curled up and loosed a kick with herculean force to his still embedded knife. There was a sharp snap as the lower half of the knife dropped to the mud below, the upper half stuck out of the back of the orc's neck. He looks at the still imposing body of the orc, fearing that even after all that damage it was still not enough. The orc's grip loosed at his throat and he scurried out under it and gulped down as much air his lungs yearned so much for. The orc's lifeless body slumped to the mud and, even dead, it still scared Griz to the core. He was mere moments from death and he still managed to nearly kill Griz in those few moments. 

The other races were right to fear orcs. 

Griz rubbed his sore throat and, sure enough, he was still alive...albeit bloodied and battered. It would likely take him days to recover, even with the help from the shaman. Slowly, the goblin stood up and collected the discarded sack and sheathed what remained of his knife. This was going to be a longer walk than he was expecting, but at least he will be back to the village before the next day's dawn. [color=khaki]"Gods above...this was going to be a long walk."[/color]