"They're coming! They're coming! Master! They're coming! We need to hide!" he heard a panicked voice of Olof the Elk-slayer from the outiside.
That can't be good. "Who's coming?" Milo rushed to open the door.
The muscular goblin barged in, and started anxiously pacing in small circles. "The patrolling party! Our scouts have seen them approach, riding on the road from Tidevale, they will be here in minutes. Oh no, that's not good, that's not good at all! If they find out that you have returned, we're doomed, we're all doomed!"
Milo looked outside and saw the goblins running around their camp, folding their tents, and disappearing into the forest.
"Oh, right. Of course. A group of goblins resurrect their dark lord. I can't imagine that whoever's in charge around here would approve of that."
"No, they would not! We need to scurry into the forest before they find us!"
Milo hesitated. "And abandon my tower?"
"Yes! Everybody else has already started on the scram-and-hide protocol you have invented for us during the war. I'm the only one who went here, to warn you. Because I'm brave! And strong. And loyal. And definitely deserve extra soup, if you can weigh in on that the next time you talk to the chief. Like, if he asks 'who should we give extra soup to?' And you could be like 'Oh, I know! Olof is pretty great, he heroically warned me about the scary patrol that one time'."
Milo tuned out Olof's rambling as he thought.
He wasn't stupid, or reckless, or eager to face the incoming danger. But leaving the tower? Back on Earth, his greatest fear was to end up as an NPC in someone else's story. He knew he was bright, but did he have what it takes revolutionize a scientific field, to build a huge startup, to write a world-changing book? He dreaded growing up to live an unremarkable, slightly-above-average, middle-class life he was statistically bound to live.
But this new world was his chance. To write his own story. To make the world know his name. To put himself at the center of legendary events. He didn't know what they would be, and, right now, he didn't care. He just wanted to matter. He knew that this tower will be the key to the great fate that awaits him, and abandoning it to scurry into the forest were not the actions of a person who wins at this game. He was finally the protagonist, goddamit, and he was going to act like one!
"Go with the tribe, Olof, hide in the jungle. I will deal with the party, and tell you when it's safe to come out."
Olof started to protest, but with every passing minute his confidence evaporated, and his eyes darted towards the jungle more frequently. Finally, he ran off.
Milo closed the door. "Patrolling party, huh? What course of action will end with me keeping this place, instead of being dragged to whatever hole they throw summoned dark lords into?"
Through the window, he saw three riders emerge from the jungle. They were astride large white lizards, sprinting down the path in fluid, elegant movements.
What, did this world run out of ordinary white stallions? thought Milo. Then again, he was in the middle of a tropical jungle, so maybe the typical tropes of mideval European fantasy just didn't apply here?
Milo took these thoughts back as soon as the group got close enough for him to see the riders. On top of the lizards, Milo saw the most stereotypical adventurers he could imagine. A golden-haired knight in a shining armor. An old wizard with a long beard dressed in white robes. An elegant elf with pointy ears holding a bow. It made Milo wonder if anyone from this world has ever crossed over back to Earth, to bring the stories and fairytales that inspired the recognizable elements he was seeing.
The knight's lizard changed its direction with a lightning speed, veering off the road to the tower, and moving to intercpet Olof who was running towards the jungle. The other adventurers followed, surrounding the goblin.
It was impossible to hear what they were saying at this distance, so Milo poured mana into the "senses" rune he discovered earlier. He never tried using it before, but he hoped that he had a right guess about what it did. He instantly very felt awake and alert, the world around him became sharp, vivid, and overwhelmingly loud. It took some time to adjust, but he managed to shape the flow of mana to tune his perception, and focus on the conversation between the adventurers and the goblin.
"Confess, vile creature, what is your spawn doing around here?" said the knight, reaching down to the goblin, and picking him up by the scruff of his neck.
"We... we were just camping!" whined Olof, "the giant spiders have chased us off from our hunting grounds, so we hoped to find a place to settle here."
"You know that trespassing on human lands requires a permit," said the elven archer coldly.
"I'm sorry!" cried Olof, "we didn't know anything about peppermint!"
"And your kind," she continued, "is explicitly forbidden from congregating around the Places of Power that you and your old masters used to infest, even the ones as corrupted and useless as this one."
"We didn't mean to! We won't congra... conga... we won't coagulate anymore, I swear!"
The knight turned to the wizard. "So, looks like a straightforward job then? Track down the tribe, capture, incapacitate, relocate to an approved area?"
"Hold on, Valorian," said the wizard, "this course of action is neither the wisest, nor the most expedient. The guild's quest clearly stated that all we must do is investigate the signs of activity in the tower. The reward they offered is not nearly enough to compel me to run around the woods, chasing down stray goblins. If this is as mundane as it appears, we shall inspect the tower, write the report, then the guild will send ordinary guards to clear the area."
"Thadeus makes a good point," spoke the elf, "if they want us to go goblin hunting ourselves, they should at least triple the reward."
"Fine, fine," said Valorian, "we will let the guards take care of the pests. Let's get this over with."
Valorian dropped Olof into a nearby bush, the trio turned, and set out towards the tower.
As the heroes approached, Milo felt lightheaded and weak. He started trembling.
Hold on, he thought, I refuse to tremble at the sight of some glorified bureaucrats, be they riding fancy lizards or not. Why do I still feel like falling apart? Oh, right, of course, mana." He immediately shut down the "senses" rune, and reached into his pocket to burn through his remaining mana crystal. He immediately felt better. All he needed now was a plan.
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