The Goblin Wars Part One

by Stuart Thaman

  “We can’t wait for their next move,” Gideon growled, and the three companions took off toward the back of the goblin lines. The paladin’s great braided beard swung furiously from side to side as the giant ran. His throwing axes, unaffected by Nevidal’s divine enchantment, looked like tiny toys attached to a belt so thick it could have served as rigging for a ship.

  Imbued with godlike strength and speed, the two goblins watched from a distance as their hulking giant friend crashed into the back of Lady Scrapple’s army. With one foot planted firmly in the Clawflow River, Gideon swatted goblins away as if they were nothing but tiny flies buzzing about his meal.

  Swords and spears alike were shattered into rubble with every pass of Nevidal, the wickedly sharp sword the size of a tree. Holy fire flew off the blade in great balls as big as boulders. The giant paladin fought with fury. He swung the mighty sword with his remaining arm as quickly as he could. A song in praise of Vrysinoch found his lips and escaped, the tune bringing a strange sense of peace to the wanton death all around him.

  Not being able to run nearly as fast as the giant, Gravlox and Vorst could only watch as hundreds of their kin were lifted through the air or rent to pieces by the brutal sword. Gideon’s boots snuffed the life from dozens of goblins at a time. The paladin’s inexorable march was accented by the piercing screams of dying goblins and the sizzling of blood off the flames of his sword. From the wall, the surviving humans could see the great arcs of fire dancing through the smoke of the battle but had no way of discerning the man’s giant form.

  The two rogue goblins stopped not far from the destructive giant and scanned the army for any sign of Yael. “Look,” Gravlox pointed to the lone farmhouse standing amidst the sea of their kin. With vision perfected in the lightless mines of Kanebullar Mountain, Gravlox could easily discern the form of a lone goblin standing atop the human structure. “That must be him,” the shaman said with determination.

  Without a moment of hesitation, the two sprinted through the mess of goblins. The mindless drones didn’t even possess enough autonomy to get out of the way as Gravlox stormed through them. Lacking enough will to think for themselves, the horde of warriors let the unrecognized goblins pass without incident.

  Before long, Gravlox and Vorst stood below the battered farmhouse and locked eyes with Yael. “You may be a powerful shaman,” the goblin commander called out to the pair from his perch, “but I am the Mountain!” He spread his arms out wide and surveyed the sea of his minions. “This is my destiny!” he shouted with spit flying from his mouth. “Everything you see is under my command. I am Lady Scrapple’s chosen! Her commander!” The goblin drones surrounding the two at the base of the building all turned at once and leveled their weapons.

  “They listen to me, now!” Yael howled into the night. The nearest soldiers charged in at Gravlox and Vorst with flawless unison. The shaman gripped his short sword tightly in both hands and Vorst wasted no time putting her deadly bow to work. Four goblins struggled for life and clawed at the arrow shafts buried in their flesh by the time the first drone engaged Gravlox’s sword.

  The shaman met the charging spearhead with a sidelong swipe of his sword that pushed the thrust wide to his left. The stone and mortar of the farmhouse at his back reminded him of his days beneath the mountain. The mines were full of such rough textures and Gravlox had grown to love them. With a slash aimed for Gravlox’s neck, the spearhead came whirring back in and again the shaman beat the attack with a well-timed parry.

  A second goblin stood next to the spear-wielding drone and brandished a mean looking jagged mace. The warrior executed a powerful overhand chop with the crude weapon that forced Gravlox to roll to his side and into the thrusting metal of the spear. The shaman caught the longer weapon’s shaft with his sword hilt just before the pointed tip would have opened his chest. He turned the spear aside with a rotation of his wrist and continued the motion into a downward swing that pinned the spear against the ground. The second goblin drone bore down on Gravlox with his mace but the shaman was quicker and able to sidestep the blow. In the same motion, Gravlox’s pale foot snapped through the weapon’s wooden shaft and buried the deadly point in the dirt.

  Mimicking Gideon’s style of combat, Gravlox threw his sword the short distance into the chest of the second goblin drone. The pale creature dropped his mace to the ground and fell down dead. The shaman scrambled to the fallen mace and snatched it from the ground as the first goblin, now clutching a large rock in his hands, leapt at Gravlox and attempted to overpower him. The spiked mace ripped through the pale creature’s innards and halted his body mid-flight. Gravlox pounded his attacker’s corpse a second time with the vicious weapon, caving in his skull with ease.

  Vorst held back the tide with her bow well enough, but her quiver was nearly depleted. A bloody ring of dead goblins surrounded the two lovers like an ancient rune of death etched into the dirt. Yael made the soldiers hesitate a moment to regroup and then unleashed them in a full wave meant to overrun the two rogues.

  The shaman felt his pale skin pressed against the cool stone of the farmhouse and willed his consciousness into the bricks. He could sense an energy in the building; not a source of magic, but a sensation of readiness, like the elements of the stones and mortar waiting to be used. As a mine foreman, Gravlox had witnessed gifted miners using shamanistic magic to blast through rock and extract difficult ore with ease. Closing his eyes and remembering scenes from his previous life, Gravlox willed the stone wall of the farmhouse to life.

  The grey stones of the inanimate building absorbed the energy as fast as Gravlox could deliver it. As the second screaming wave of goblin drones cleared the bloody ground to the shaman and reared their weapons back for the kill, the stone wall exploded. The conical blast was directed against the oncoming creatures and, miraculously, the two rogues were spared. Chips of stone flew through the goblins ranks like daggers and large chunks of hard mortar shattered their bones.

  The farmhouse trembled and rocked from the force of the explosion, lingering only a moment before the entire building collapsed to the ground. Yael roared as he went down in the heap of rubble and dust.

  Gravlox, Vorst, and the enemy commander removed themselves from the debris of the farmhouse in seconds, ready to fight. Yael held a sword similar to the one in Gravlox’s hand. Vorst loosed her last arrow at the commander but the shot ricocheted off a fallen section of the farmhouse’s roof and went wide of its mark by inches. She dropped her bow to the ground and pulled a small dagger from her belt with a snarl.

  Yael tossed his blade from hand to hand as the three goblins circled in the debris. Drone soldiers all around the fallen farmhouse made a wall of spears and other weapons that prevented any of the combatants from fleeing. Gravlox positioned himself with his back to the city; he could see the dark outline of the giant paladin wading through scores of goblins off in the distance. His great fiery sword sent marvelous gouts of light sailing over the battlefield, briefly illuminating random parts of the plain.

  The goblin army looked limitless.

  Vorst kept herself well to the side of the shaman but close enough that she could leap to him if the need arose.

  “Look around you, Gravlox,” Yael said with a sneer. “The mountain has come to fight. You cannot stop us all. Even if you kill ten thousand of us, you will die.” The commander glanced over his shoulder at the destruction wrought by Gideon and his divine enchantment. His estimation of the goblin casualties seemed accurate. “Unless you have a hundred more giants with you, this city will fall. You cannot stop that.”

  Gravlox continued to circle in the rubble. Broken wooden beams and crumbled stone made his footing unstable. “Have you ever dreamed of greater things than being a slave?” he called out. He spoke loudly enough for the nearby drones to hear him but, if they comprehended anything he was saying, they didn’t show it. “There is more to life than slavery! We can be free, all of us. Don’t you feel it, Yael?”

  The commander stopped
circling for just a moment, mulling over Gravlox’s statements in light of his own recent revelations. He could feel the consciousness of Lady Scrapple in the back of his mind, stirring and growing restless. Lady Scrapple took interest in the situation, but did not take control. Whether the Mistress of the Mountain chose not to overcome Yael’s consciousness or her lack of dominance was merely a result of her waning power, Yael could not tell. There was an awkward level of disconnect between the pathways of his own mind and the intricate relays of the collective. Images of fire and brimstone flashed through his mind from matriarch. He saw telepathic images of Terror’s Lament surrounded by fire and cheering goblins as it tumbled down.

  “Yael,” he heard, but the voice was somewhere in the distance, too far away for him to recognize. A thousand different scenes flashed through the commander’s mind in an instant. He saw himself sitting atop a throne made from the piled bodies of dead humans. Yael saw an entire world devoid of human life where the goblin race was free to walk amongst the trees and spread throughout the entire land. The final image imparted to him was of his own short sword piercing Gravlox’s heart. Yael enjoyed what he saw.

  “I have more power than you could ever imagine, traitor,” Yael said. He inched forward through the cluttered rubble and ordered the drones to begin closing the circle with their spear tips out in front of them. “You, Gravlox, are the enemy. You have chosen to ally with the filthy human scum, and for what?”

  “For love,” Vorst whispered, but no one could hear her soft plea.

  “If you are so bent on helping these pathetic surface dwellers,” Yael continued, “then you will die like one.” The goblin commander planted a foot on a large black kettle that had been overturned in the tumult. He launched himself through the air, howling like a banshee, with his sword aimed right for the shaman’s chest.

  Gravlox had plenty of time to anticipate the jump and waited until the last possible second. He sidestepped the leap and tried to use his own sword to disarm the flying goblin but missed. Yael retracted his arm before he hit the ground and Gravlox’s sword cut through nothing but air. Vorst slashed at the commander from his side with her dagger aimed low and was met by a deft parry that turned her blade well before its mark.

  Gravlox wasted no time and attacked with his own weapon, executing a slicing chop that Yael easily ducked. The commander brought his sword up and in to his chest as he spun, deflecting another strike from Vorst’s dagger before extending his arm and snapping his wrist. Gravlox had to stumble backward to avoid losing his nose. The movement was too fast for the untrained foreman to follow.

  After being well trained by the Ministry of Assassinations, Vorst was well versed in combat, although she was used to killing targets that were completely unaware of her presence. With Yael spinning his body between her and Gravlox, she couldn’t find an opening to go for a kill. She had to settle for smaller nicks and cuts scored on the commander’s back.

  Yael was pressing Gravlox with a furious attack combination. He used the tip of his sword to force Gravlox to parry again and again, each time striking just a little closer to the shaman’s shoulder. After four such attacks, Gravlox blocked the swing with his hilt and Yael turned the blade sideways as he punched with his sword hand. Blood splattered from Gravlox’s mouth and nose.

  The commander turned just in time to use his free hand to clamp down on Vorst’s wrist and turn her attack aside. Gravlox tripped over backward on the broken remnants of a table and his sword flew from his hand.

  Yael seized the opportunity and slashed out with his blade against Vorst. Still locked tightly in his grip, she was forced to turn her body sideways to avoid being skewered. Vorst kicked out with her leg and slammed her foot into Yael’s knee. The commander buckled but did not let go. He slashed again with his sword and drew a thin line of blood down Vorst’s side. The female goblin yelped and clenched her teeth against the pain.

  The ground was too uneven for Gravlox to quickly get to his feet, so he snatched Vorst’s bow from the ground and pulled himself to Yael’s feet. Using the bow as club, Gravlox swung the weapon hard into the back of the commander’s legs. He attacked furiously, hitting him again and again until Yael finally fell to the rubble. Vorst was quick to bear down on the fallen foe with her dagger leading the way.

  The tip of her blade bit into the soft, pale flesh of Yael’s gut and a spurt of blood wet her hands. Yael had both of his arms in front of him, holding the blade back and using all of his strength to keep it from sinking in to the hilt.

  Gravlox was on his feet. He found his sword in the wreckage and scampered back to where Yael slowly bled. His sword glimmered in the dancing firelight of the war as he lifted it above his head for the killing blow. Vorst rolled to her side, withdrawing her dagger and covering her face. Yael used one hand to clutch his wound and his other offered a meager defense that both of them knew was useless. Gravlox’s sword whistled through the air with deadly precision.

  With the blade just inches from the commander’s face, a powerful, sinewy wing sent Gravlox flying over the ruined farmhouse. He landed painfully on a collection of fallen stones that cut into his back, but managed to keep hold of his sword. Taurnil bellowed a deep, throaty laugh that sent shivers down Gravlox’s spine.

  “I’ve already seen you die once, beast,” Gravlox muttered through the pain. “How many lives do you have?” Swirling tendrils of acrid smoke wafted up from the ground and mingled with the smoke already choking the night sky. With the flickering light of Nevidal’s holy magic at his back, Taurnil was truly frightening. Yael managed to sit up against a piece of rubble and clutch his side to stem the bleeding.

  “Gideon!” Vorst called out but she knew the paladin was too far away to hear her. Gravlox used his innate shamanistic connection to the vast realms of magic to navigate the swirl of goblins and find Gideon on the battlefield. Like before, his magical essence raged like a towering inferno of hatred and violence. Gideon felt the magical plea for help in his soul and the fires of his hatred licked the heavens.

  ***

  INSIDE THE HIGH walls of Talonrend, the city was quiet. Herod had ordered the militia and all the remaining soldiers inside the city during the respite. The prince’s eyes darted nervously from building to building, expecting something, but he wasn’t sure what. There was tension in the air hanging like a thick curtain. Soldiers stood nervously in the streets and paced back and forth. The occasional boulder smashed into the walls and shook the ground under their feet.

  Archers maintained their posts on the tops of Terror’s Lament but it had been hours since any goblin soldiers had come within bow range. Herod looked up at the Tower of Wings with a frown. The doors at the base of the tower were locked and the building was eerily silent. The soft glow of fire outside the city illuminated the highest reaches of the magnificent tower, making the wings dance and flicker. Another siege engine made the ground shake. Herod wondered how long the triple-layered walls would hold.

  The prince gripped the soft leather handles of his swords as he paced back and forth in one of the city’s marketplaces. Empty vendor stalls loomed high above him like sinister giants waiting to come to life. Even late into the night, there should always be merchants trying to turn a profit. The whorehouses that lined the busiest streets in the city had extinguished their lamps and boarded up their windows. The whole of Talonrend was prepared for war. Herod knew that if Terror’s Lament fell, every single person inside the city would surely die. The roiling tide of goblins waiting just beyond his doorstep was overwhelming.

  “What do we do now, sire?” someone wearing a fine set of silken clothing asked quietly in the darkness. Herod turned to see the man, one of his advisors, but he couldn’t remember his name. The monarchy of Talonrend had always been counseled by a small advisory group, but Herod had rarely concerned himself with such things. After all, he was never the king. With Brenning dead, the prince was in dire need of good counsel.

  “I do not know, good sir,” Herod responded
. The earth beneath his feet shook again as another blast ripped chunks of smooth stone from the walls. The prince paused for a moment, reflecting. “That last blast,” he mused, “I felt it before I heard it, right?” he asked the advisor.

  “Sometimes, when things happen far away, it takes time for their sounds to reach your ears, my liege.” The advisor was old, perhaps older than sixty, and spoke with a steady voice despite the fear brought on by the war. Another shockwave vibrated the stones and dirt of the marketplace and again, a loud blast followed almost immediately.

  The calm and steady voice of the advisor gave way to fear in an instant. “No, sir, I fear you are correct. That blast at the wall was not the origin of vibration.” The man moved away, staring at the ground. Slight tremors shook through the dirt floor of the marketplace faster and faster. The soldiers standing nearby readied their weapons but did not know what to do.

  Herod moved his back closer to a building and shut the visor on his helmet. Panic was spreading throughout the ranks and crept its way into the prince’s resolve. A large grey moth flitted through the night air, going to and from the various merchant stalls as if inspecting some hidden wares that none of the men could see. Herod thought back to his favorite afternoons he spent leaning against the parapet of Castle Talon while ducks playfully swam in the moat. The moth, a simple creature like the ducks, would never know the cruelties of war. It might be caught unaware under the vicious blast of a goblin trebuchet, but the little grey animal would not suffer. The ducks in the moat would never be tormented by the nagging worries of a siege. The moth lifted up from a wooden railing and disappeared over a rooftop, oblivious to the horror that surrounded it.

  Another tremor rippled out from the center of the marketplace. The army held its breath. Prince Herod drew Maelstrom and Regret from their sheaths and steadied the rise and fall of his chest.

  Herod’s advisor shrieked and leapt back into the morass of gathered soldiers as the ground of the empty marketplace sank. A gaping, cavernous hole opened up and swallowed the empty wooden stalls in an instant. Shouts of panic rose up throughout the army, indicating that many such holes had appeared all over Talonrend. The prince peered into the oily darkness of the cave. He could hear movement but saw nothing. “What is it?” he heard an eager soldier call out.