The Goblin Wars Part One

by Stuart Thaman

  “It seems you’ve been hiding a great many secrets, traitor!” Master Brenning yelled, taking off in pursuit of Jan. The smith’s powerful legs closed the gap quickly but all it took for Jan to escape was a few lines of arcane summoning. A bright orange portal ripped through the air, crackling and popping with energy. Without a moment of hesitation, Jan leapt through the portal and began to close it behind him.

  Reaching out through the portal and trying to grasp Jan’s arm to pull him back, Brenning was sucked through the closing gateway with a pop. A strange tingling energy rippled through the smith’s muscular back and vibrated his beard hairs. The sensation of falling gripped his chest and caused him to grit his teeth, expecting the worst. Master Brenning landed on cold stone with a heavy thud and felt the wind rush out of his lungs. He was dazed but not severely injured.

  Brenning got slowly to his knees, clutching his sword close to his chest and looked around in the darkness. At first, Master Brenning thought he must have missed the portal and landed on the other side of the stone walkway leading to the drawbridge. The inky blackness of the world around him assured him that he was no longer in Talonrend.

  “Jan!” he called to the darkness, anger filling his gravelly voice. Master Brenning stood and swung his sword about in a wide arc. It clanged loudly against a stone to his right. The smith reached a muscled hand to the stone and felt the edges, the turn of a wall. Putting his back to the wet, mossy stone, Master Brenning waved his sword about in frustration. “Jan!” he shouted again, hearing his own voice echo around him.

  A tiny ball of brilliant white light appeared somewhere in the distance, too small for Master Brenning to identify. Slowly, the glowing orb grew in size, illuminating the room. Brenning lowered his sword and shielded his eyes from the intense light as he scanned the prison. The area was circular, made of large stone blocks covered in a thick carpet of verdant moss. Everything was damp and glistened in the bright light with little drops of water. What Brenning had thought was the edge of a stone wall was actually the opening to a small passage. Water trickled over the stone lazily to slicken the moss at his feet. Three small metal bars were set into the stone at narrow intervals, effectively blocking the opening to anything as large as a human.

  The stone walls of the circular chamber extended well over triple the smith’s height but did not meet a ceiling there. The top of the chamber was high overhead, another twenty or thirty feet above the top of the cylindrical prison. Master Brenning could barely make out the dark outlines of roots poking through the stone ceiling. A brown drop of insipid water fell through the humid air to the mossy carpet below.

  Jan stepped forward from the ball of brilliant light, placing a gigantic shadow over the trapped smith. The former steward hovered above his captive on a black disc of swirling energy. Jan’s laughter filled the room.

  “Master Brenning, so nice to see you again,” he cackled, sending little bolts of black magic dancing from his fingertips and sinking into the stone. “Welcome to my kingdom!”

  Brenning spat on the stone and averted his eyes. Defeated, the humbled smith sank to the mossy stone and rested his back against the wall.

  Jan knew that he would never bring the smith to despair. He might kill the proud man, but he would never be able to break his spirit. Annoyed at the thought, Jan dispelled the magical light with a wave of his hand. “Enjoy your stay in the sewers of Reikall,” he calmly said before disappearing through another portal of conjured magic.

  Master Brenning closed his eyes and let his anger subside. There was nothing he could do to escape his stone prison. With a grunt of exasperation, Brenning pressed his ear to the wall to listen for anything that might give him hope.

  ***

  A SMALL GOBLIN hand grabbed the top of his bald head. He could feel it distinctly, but at the same time the touch felt like it was miles away. The pale fingers reached around his head and clenched down firmly on his scraped neck, closing with surprising strength. The hand began to pull, raking his battered body against the sharp stones, but the strong goblin hand would not relent. Slowly, his body began to move forward. Walls of solid rock closed in on his hips with every inch, adding a deep crimson to the rushing water.

  Suddenly, the water disappeared. Gravlox felt only the cavern floor beneath his back as he gasped for air. Covered in cuts and bruises, the small goblin was thankful to be alive. Vorst pulled the rope behind her companion and retrieved his pack from the water.

  They heard the footsteps resounding against the walls. The chamber was small, much smaller than the one Gravlox had come from, and it reeked of death. The echoing footfalls were coming from nearby but the sound was steady, neither approaching nor retreating.

  We need to look, Gravlox tapped on the stone. The two goblins crawled on their hands and knees to an opening in the wall. Hesitantly, Gravlox placed a hand on Vorst’s back as she peered around the corner. Almost instantly, the female goblin jerked her head back and rolled into the chamber.

  Hundreds. Her fingers drilled the code into Gravlox’s forearm in a silent panic. Humans. They are marching. The tunnel extends far to the North, back toward their city. Both goblins dared another look around the corner of the stone. Hundreds of human forms shambled through the rock tunnel. Some of them hit their heads on the ceiling above or scraped into the sides of the tunnel but none of them slowed or stopped.

  Mindless, Gravlox signaled. I don’t think they will attack. The two goblins straightened in the passageway and drew their weapons. Acting on instinct, Gravlox stabbed out with his short sword and impaled a thin human female. The tip of his weapon protruded garishly from the front of her chest but no blood spilled forth. The walking corpse turned and swung her arms out to claw at him but an arrow removed the woman’s head from her shoulders with a splatter of rotted brains.

  The other human forms were totally oblivious to the fight and the defeated woman crumbled to ash on the cavern floor without a sound. The legion continued its march, scattering the ashes as they went.

  “They’re zombies,” Vorst muttered in disbelief. “Endless ranks of the dead.” Both goblins shook their heads and wondered where they had come from. Vorst quickstepped through the river of corpses and retrieved her arrow from the ground, blowing the dust off the head before placing it back in her quiver.

  “Should we continue on toward the necromancer that summoned this army? That is what Lady Scrapple wants. You of course are not bound by her will.” Vorst playfully poked him in the stomach.

  “We could march with them. If this cave system leads all the way to the city, it probably comes up inside the walls.” The endless line of undead marched on, paying the goblins no heed. “Our quest is to take the city from the humans. It seems as if the alliance between necromancer and goblin has not been harmed. Yael and his troops are probably preparing the assault right now.”

  Vorst wrapped her sinewy arms around Gravlox’s waist and held him close. “I don’t want to fight anymore. Not against humans, not against anything. I just want to go home. I feel like I only found you moments ago, and now you talk of war. Is war against the humans what you really want, Gravlox?”

  The naïve goblin foreman had never thought of that. Was there more to the goblin existence than bloody conquest? The goblins of Kanebullar Mountain were happy, content to live in the dark tunnels and passageways under the earth. They did not need a human city to live in, they already had a home. He returned her hug with all his strength, not willing to let her go.

  A vicious tug in the center of Vorst’s mind nearly toppled her. Lady Scrapple was telepathically commanding her minion, forcing her to fight. Gravlox watched in horror as her small hands took the sword away from him and leveled it against his neck.

  “No…” Gravlox didn’t know what to say. He had never felt the influence of the hive mind and therefore could not sympathize. “Vorst… Please,” he begged, falling to his knees with the sword still resting against his neck.

  Her eyes glazed over with pale fog a
nd she pulled the sword back, gripping it tightly. Calm serenity danced about her soft features in the lightless cavern. The goblin’s face betrayed no emotion. Vorst’s arm swung, but her hand let go of the weapon and she collapsed to the floor. “I don’t know how long I can resist it, Grav,” she cried into his immediate embrace. “I’m not strong like you.”

  Gravlox held her tight against his chest. He had no words to comfort her. No inspirational speech came to him in a moment of clarity. The two lovers rocked back and forth on the cold cave floor and held each other for a long time as the horde of undead marched on.

  TWO VERY DIFFERENT companions peered into the collapsed entrance of a cave shaft many feet above Gravlox and Vorst.

  “You’re sure they went down this passage?” Gideon asked, never allowing his hand to wander far from the throwing axes at his side.

  “I am sure of it. I watched from a distance as the ground swallowed them. They did not expect it, nor did I,” the demon hissed in response. Taurnil’s acidic tongues tasted the air with urgency, guiding the lightless orbs of the vile beast down to the ground. “The female goblin went down on this side of the collapse.” Taurnil spat a glob of acid onto the fallen leaves. “I can taste her in the air.”

  Gideon investigated the area but could not discern anything useful in the waning light. “If they are apart from each other, they should be easier to kill. The male goblin is the stronger of the two, by all accounts.” The warrior brushed some leaves and broken sticks aside and tested the stability of the ground.

  “I will rip his useless heart from his scrawny chest.” Taurnil gnashed his broken teeth, biting the words as they came out.

  “Is that what you said right before he forced you to retreat at Cobblestreet?” Gideon taunted, standing to his full height and easily towering over the demon.

  Sinewy wings beat the air and dry leaves were tossed about the small clearing in a frenzy as Taurnil ascended. Without a word the beast dove for the ground, crashing into the rubble of the cavern entrance with a gracelessness bordering on reckless.

  Not wasting any time, Gideon shook his head, dove feet-first into the stone chimney, and made the painful plummet down to the hard stone below. With a showy flourish, Taurnil’s powerful wings brought him safely to the stone floor without a scratch or bruise.

  Taurnil and Gideon stood in the lightless chamber and listened to the shuffling undead feet, unsure of their next move. “What is that noise?” Gideon asked.

  “It is Reikall,” Taurnil hissed in response. “The army marches through the lightless caves.” Gideon closed his eyes against the darkness and pulled forth the energy within him, reawakening the strong bond with Vrysinoch that resided deep within his soul. When he opened his eyes, they glowed with white energy. Speaking the words to a simple cantrip, Gideon caused the rune on his back to flare to life. An ethereal eagle began to take form in the palm of his hand, illuminating the area.

  Taurnil shielded his eyes from the piercing magical light and took a step back. The demon was visibly repulsed by the pure holy energy of Vrysinoch’s paladin. Gideon smiled and tossed the small eagle into the air where it took flight, casting white light throughout the cavern.

  VORST AND GRAVLOX, sitting on the stone around the corner from Gideon and Taurnil, saw the light and took cover. Gravlox scrambled to his feet, pulling Vorst behind him and the two goblins ran down the corridor in a hastened panic.

  “Were you followed?” Vorst whispered once the two goblins were farther down the tunnel. Gravlox shook his head and stole a glance over his shoulder, unnerved by the sudden light.

  We need to hide, he tapped on Vorst’s arm. She looked around the underground complex nervously before finally spotting a cubby just large enough to conceal the two of them. Vorst and Gravlox darted into the cubby to wait, watching the glowing light from a distance.

  “These men are dead.” Gideon’s tone was even and deadly serious. His deep voice echoed through the cavern, resounding around the mindless corpses that took no heed.

  “Of course,” Taurnil responded. “Hurry, I can taste the goblin scum in the air. They can’t be far.” Gideon didn’t follow the demon.

  “These men are dead,” he repeated, staring at the endless river of zombies.

  “Yes,” the winged beast hissed, “and so are the women and children. What does it matter?” Taurnil turned to face the unmoving paladin. “Does the paladin fear these mindless undead?” he snickered.

  “They are all dead!” he shouted so loudly that it rang in his ears. Gideon unhooked one of the throwing axes at his side and flexed, gripping the polished wood firmly. He felt the weight of the axe, the balance of its head at the end of his fingers. The luminescent eagle continued to circle around the cavern, casting magical light on Taurnil’s pale skin.

  Taurnil squared his shoulders to the man and flexed his wings. “What will you do, paladin? These corpses march toward Talonrend, something you have certainly deduced by now. My master controls them. With us, you will surely be spared. Keturah is well aware that you are a formidable warrior. It would be a shame to kill you now, underground, where no one will see you fall.”

  Gideon raised the axe up to his chest and inspected its razor edge in the gleaming light. “These corpses,” he sneered, “are families. Sons march through these caves; daughters, husbands, wives, all of them loved by someone. You destroyed that.”

  Taurnil’s sinewy wings shot out from his body and beat the air with strength. The throwing axe cut the air where the demon had been standing and clanged against the damp stone of the wall.

  Another axe was in the paladin’s strong hand before Taurnil’s wings could beat a second time. The demon launched a glob of acid and spun, flying to the wall and finding an easy perch. The acid sizzled into the stone not far behind the ducking warrior, who exploded from the ground in a wild rush, sending an axe whirling end over end for Taurnil’s chest. A sharp claw swiped the missile from the air and sent it to the stone below.

  The slanted ceiling of the underground chamber wasn’t high enough to afford Taurnil the room he needed to get out of the large paladin’s reach. Gideon came on in a rush of steel, an axe in each hand. Taurnil’s claws batted the axes out wide but the demon was clinging to the stone and leaving his back exposed. Drawing his wings in tight, the demon launched from the wall and collapsed on top of the paladin.

  Gideon tried to pull his arms inside Taurnil’s wings but wasn’t quick enough. The demon wrapped the warrior in his strong embrace as they rolled on the stone floor. Taurnil used his superior position to pin Gideon’s arms out wide where he dropped his axes. The beast brought his face down within inches of Gideon’s mouth, snarling with his three writhing tongues. Acid dripped down onto the paladin’s face, sizzling and boiling his skin.

  “You cannot kill me,” the demon hissed, spitting more acid with every word. The corrosive slime dug holes into the paladin’s skin. The pain was excruciating. Gideon twisted and writhed, trying in vain to turn his face away from Taurnil’s terrible maw.

  Gideon thrashed violently and managed a weak headbutt. Taurnil barely noticed the blow. The sword on Gideon’s back burned with holy fire. The magical eagle circling above the fight screeched in pain.

  Vrysinoch heard that screech. The eagle dove down, tucking its wings against its sides and loosing another piercing scream. The sound cut the air and reverberated off the walls of the chamber, dazing Taurnil with its ferocity. Waves of divine magic emanated from the bird as it bit deeply into the demon’s pale back.

  Gideon scrambled, pushing the beast away and trying to scrape the remaining acid from his face. Taurnil whirled on the eagle, knocking it to the ground and dispelling the magic.

  The two warriors stood in the cavern with just an arm’s length separating them. The glow from Gideon’s cantrip was gone but the cavern shined even brighter than before. Nevidal, Gideon’s hand-and-a-half sword, glowed with fierce energy, bathing the walls in an eerie light. With grim determination, Gideon reache
d up and grasped the hilt of the mighty blade. In response, Nevidal surged with energy, flaring to life at the touch of the paladin’s hand and nearly blinding the two warriors.

  “I may not be able to defeat you,” Gideon coughed through his scarred face, “but Vrysinoch is more powerful than both of us. You will die here.”

  Gideon drew his sword.

  ***

  PRINCE HEROD STOOD tall atop the Talonrend city walls. Herod wasn’t sure if a man was supposed to feel more terror looking up at the wall from the ground or looking down upon the city from the top.

  “Apollonius,” the Prince called to the man as he reached the top of the winding staircase that connected the top of Terror’s Lament with the base. “Has there been any news of Master Brenning? I have not seen him in some time.” The obedient soldier shook his head and stooped over to catch his breath.

  “Now you understand why I left my armor at the bottom of the wall with the other guards.” The prince laughed and walked over to Apollonius. “I have faith that my friend will return to us in due time.” He patted the heavily armored soldier on the back and directed his view out over the city.

  “Tell me, Apollonius, when was the last time you stood upon this wall and gazed out upon the rooftops of Talonrend?” The prince had often done just that, but with his brother, King Lucius, at his side.

  “Never, my liege. Only recently did I enlist to be a guardsman. Wall duty is assigned to the most veteran soldiers in the guard. I am not old enough to have earned that honor yet.” The prince had never realized how young the soldier was. The man had a bit of a beard, but nothing uncommon for an average man of twenty years.

  Herod nodded and turned around to face the north. “There isn’t much out here, Apollonius,” the prince lamented. “We have the farms and fields to the north and west, the villages along the Clawflow to the east, and Reikall somewhere to the south. This is truly a lonely and desolate land.” The purple caps of distant mountains could be seen far to the north like the tiny silhouettes of children standing in a row.