The woods outside the convent reminded Sage of her home in the village of Bahlderl. A small farming community on the edge of the Great Northern Forest, she had spent her younger years collecting herbs and kindling in the less densely wooded outskirts with the other children, watched over closely by one of the village men. After the sun had passed its peak they would be escorted back to the village and allowed to use the rest of the daylight playing whatever games they could come up with. Often her and the other girls would spend their time learning to sew, helping prepare the evening meal or whatever myriad household tasks their mothers wanted assistance with. Sage had the additional responsibility of learning how to read and write from the Baetyl monk who visited once a week. Her family had been blessed with five children and, as the third daughter, Sage was expected to join the local nunnery once her literacy was determined to be acceptable. She suspected this was one of the mitigating factors for why the other children didn't tease her for her Nordic blood. Once a part of the Baetyl church she would be a figure of importance, potentially even an Abbess if she was advanced far enough.
Sage's mother had been a refugee from one of the Nordic trading villages along the Ossar delta, fleeing south from sea raiders that had attacked her home. The Bahlderlans had taken her in and housed her, probably more sympathetic than most due to their location near the forest. Bandits were only one danger. Sage stuck out considerably compared to the native Swanians, who had more in common with their olive-complexioned Lomnite neighbours far to the south when it came to looks. She had inherited her mother's thick, almost silver hair and pale complexion. She had only been teased lightly as a child, with the one incident of obvious bullying that she could remember ending when the boy in question had apologised the next day, red welts visible on the backs of his hands.
Thus she was completely unprepared for the unending, borderline savage abuse that she received from her fellow sisters at the convent near the city of Uxhalax, far to the south of her childhood home. From the day she had been enrolled, the fact that she wasn't a native Swanian had made her a target. Most of the nuns were sympathetic -- or at worst apathetic -- towards her misery, though Mother Irina seemed to take great satisfaction in turning a blind eye as the other girls made Sage's life a nightmare. In the last few months she had begun spending as much of her time as possible walking in the woods outside the Sisters' quarters. Though not as dense as what she was used to back home, the stillness and greenery allowed her to escape her tormentors briefly.
It had taken a long time for her to overcome the trepidation that came whenever she thought of entering the forest alone. Old lessons were deep-rooted, and it was a testament to exactly how deep that it had taken almost two years for her desperation to avoid the abuse to overcome her childhood teachings. Initially she had kept within sight of the convent buildings, but gradually she had become more comfortable. The constant ridicule over her fears of the woods was perhaps a factor, as these more southern people didn't hold the same suspicions to anywhere near the same degree.
So it came to be that on this warm, late summer afternoon that Sage was gathering her namesake under a large oak that marked the mid point between the convent and a small lake. She had noted the herb a week ago, but had waited until it was fully mature to harvest it. Dried, it would make an excellent addition to the hearty tubers that made up the bulk of their evening meals. By rubbing one of the leaves between her fingers she released the earthy, almost peppery smell. A wave of nostalgia accompanied the scent and she felt tears welling up in the corners of her eyes. She rested her head against the reassuring solidity of the oak and wiped her eyes dry. When she had first left her village the excitement had filled her enough to suppress the homesickness and loneliness, but recently it had been all she could think about. Initially she believed that the bullying wouldn't last once her peers had gotten to know her. Then she had told herself she could withstand it until she spoke her vows and could leave a full Sister. Now she wasn't sure.
It was as Sage was focused on suppressing the lump in her throat that she noticed the rustling in the undergrowth to her right. Her heart leapt and all the lectures as a child came back to her. Harsh words of evil beings that made the deep forests their home, dark humans who worshipped darker, primitive Gods. She knew she should run back to the safety afforded by civilisation, but her legs wouldn't respond. So it was that Sage was frozen, her breast pumping like a bellows and eyes wide, as the shrubs were pushed aside and the creature pushed its way through into the clearing.
Its head was both knobbly and sharply pointed at the same time. A scrawny frame, covered by only an oversized, ragged shirt was compounded by stubby legs and arms. Sage estimated it to be nearly three feet tall. It jumped when it noticed her sitting against the tree.
"A goblin," she thought. "And a small one, if what I've been told is true."
Goblins were abhorred by anyone you asked about them. They were parasites, stealing and kidnapping to sustain their population. They created nothing; living in caves, abandoned huts and stolen tents, all they did was live off of other people's hard work and occasionally attack lone travellers or small groups of people when enough of them gathered.
Despite their reputation, this goblin seemed almost panicked. It clearly hadn't expected her to be there, judging by how it had stopped so suddenly. It was now staring at her, its solid black eyes unblinking and hands trembling. For a couple seconds the two held gazes, neither moving. Sage couldn't figure out why such an infamous creature was as wary of her as she was of it. The entire reason they had been escorted into the forest as children was to prevent an opportunist group of goblins from kidnapping them. The men of the village took every opportunity to destroy goblins whenever they found them.
