Brynn let her weapon drop then, confident that the goblin was out of the fight for a while at least. She wove her hands furiously before her to set a defense against the goblin with the knife. Her balanced and precise move-ments slowed the goblin just a bit, as it tried to find some hole in the sud-den defense, and that was all Brynn needed. She sent her left hand out wide to the left and lifted her right hand up above her head, giving an apparent opening.
And the goblin dove into that hole, thinking to sink its knife into her chest.
Up snapped Brynn's right foot, smacking the goblin's lead arm out wide. She caught the back of the goblin's wrist in her left hand and yanked it down, twisting to lock the creature's elbow, its palm and Brynn's facing up-ward. The ranger turned right inside the hold then, bringing her left arm over and around, then down under the caught arm, turned her back right before the goblin's torso as she went. Brynn ignored the expected punch from the goblin's free hand, keeping her momentum, locking her forearm under that trapped elbow, and yanking up, while throwing her weight far-ther out over that trapped hand and tugging down hard.
The goblin yelped in pain, though it still managed to throw a second punch into Brynn's back.
It couldn't maintain its hold on the dagger, though, as Brynn's fingers worked the hand of the pained arm to force it free. As it fell, Brynn pulled straight out with her left hand, keeping the goblin off-balance, and released the arm from her right arm's hold, stepping forward and snapping out her right hand to catch the dagger before it ever hit the ground. She flipped it over in a sudden reversal and, even as the goblin slugged her again, thrust out straight and hard behind her, planting the dagger deep into the goblin's chest.
The goblin punched her yet again, but there was no strength in the blow. Brynn pumped her arm once and again, tearing up the goblin's chest and guts, then turned hard and shoved the dying creature to the ground.
The goblin she had smacked in the face was up by then, but not charg-ing.The creature had seen enough of this fighter, apparently, and started to run off into the forest.
Hardly even thinking of the movement, Brynn launched the dagger, hit-ting it in the back of the leg. The goblin howled and went down hard, then kicked and thrashed, trying to tug the dagger out, but in too much pain even to grasp it.
Now Brynn was thinking again, and watching every terrible movement. As much in horror as in pragmatism, she picked up her staff, rushed over, and smashed the goblin in the head.
It just yelled and thrashed even more.
Brynn hit it again, and again, just wanting this nightmare to be over, just wanting the wretched thing to lie still.
A long while later, after what seemed like many, many minutes to Brynn, the goblin finally stopped its thrashing and its whining.
Brynn slumped to her knees. There were still goblins about, some hurt, others perhaps not so, but she couldn't think of that right at that moment, couldn't think of anything except for the dead creatures about her, the gob-lins she had killed, and brutally so. She fought against the tears and against the urge to throw up, trying hard to steady her breathing and her sensibili-ties. She reminded herself that danger was all about her, told herself that a goblin might be creeping up even then, ready to drive a spear into her back.
Brynn glanced over her shoulder at the unsettling thought, but all was quiet behind her. Even in the encampment, nothing seemed to be stirring, though she knew she had not killed all of the creatures back there in her ini-tial charge. She noted Diredusk off to the side, standing calmly, tugging at some low brush, then lifting his head with a great haul of small branches and leaves in his munching mouth.
Brynn took up her bow and strung it, then pulled the dagger out of the dead goblin's leg and set it into her belt. Fitting an arrow, she crept along a circuitous route, gradually working her way back in sight of the camp.
None of the goblins was moving. Belli'mar Juraviel walked about them, kicking at them, and when any showed signs of life, the elf bent down and slashed open its throat.