by Pirateaba
Shockingly, it appeared that the Titan’s spine was far weaker than that of the lowest-level Drake [Soldier], as he would go on to end the Second Antinium War without ever participating in a battle where the Goblin King was present.
When questioned about his fearful retreat from any actual conflict with the Goblin King, the much-vaunted [Strategist] of Baleros had only this to say:
“I’m not an idiot.”
He then refused to reply to any of the letters this humble [Writer] sent to him, leaving this questionable page in history unfortunately blank. At least Niers Astoragon’s strategy bought time for the Humans, but in the larger scale of things, his retreats allowed the Goblin an equal number of effortless victories, balancing his contributions out on the whole. Whether his aid was truly that monumental is a debate for [Tacticians], but this Drake has his own doubts on the matter.
“That clod-footed village-smasher. I told him not to print that!”
Niers Astoragon frowned down at the tiny book in his hands. He considered ripping it up, but books were expensive, and books that were made for Fraerlings were hard to obtain. They were almost twice as expensive in fact—not because of the costs of production, which were minute, but because a Fraerling [Bookbinder] and [Scribe] had to labor hard to copy texts in minutiae.
So he reluctantly put the book down before he tossed it into the burning wax candle that sat next to him. Niers got up and paced about the table, kicking aside a tea bag as he vented his emotions.
A large furry hand reached down and picked up the tea bag. Foliana, sitting at Niers’ table in his quarters, raised the tea bag and began nibbling at it. She had no tea cup. In fact, she had nothing to drink at all. She did have a muffin, which she held in her other hand.
“Mm. He doesn’t like you.”
“Who? The author? He does not. I’ve met petty Drakes, but including all that nonsense because I refused to let him interview me and entertain all his idiotic questions? That’s a new low.”
Niers scowled but tromped back to his miniature armchair, sighing as he picked the book up and sat back in his chair. He looked up at Foliana as she perched on a much larger stool by their table.
It was a custom the two had to sit together and relax when they could. In this case, the relaxing component was debatable, but Niers still thought it was important to keep reading. He grunted as he flipped through the pages, trying to find where he’d last been reading.
“This business with the Goblin Lord has me uneasy, Foliana. There are too many parallels to the past. Zel Shivertail, Magnolia Reinhart…”
“Could be her plans. She did want to involve us.”
“True. I just don’t know…oh come now. ‘Fraerling courage is clearly in short supply?’ He calls himself a writer? This is the most biased, petty—”
Foliana reached down and patted Niers on the head. He shoved her paw away, irritated. She shrugged and went back to consuming the tea bag. After the Fraerling had calmed he looked up at Foliana and sighed.
“He is right on one count, though. We did allow this. If I had any inkling that Velan would have become this, I would have destroyed his tribe when we first met him.”
“Would have been tricky. He was strong back then.”
“And sane. Dead gods, Foliana, what happened to him?”
“Became Goblin King. Went crazy.”
Foliana shrugged, nibbling at the tea grounds. Niers frowned. He stroked at his beard, thinking hard.
“There has to be more to it than that. You met Velan once, Foliana. What did you think of him?”
“Sane. Smart. Kind. Like his name. Cared about his people. Also strong.”
Niers grunted.
“That was my impression as well. He was so calm and intelligent for a Goblin that I found myself taken with him in an instant. His sudden change though…it’s one of the mysteries I intend to unravel.”
“Like chess? And the dungeon?”
“All of it fits together somehow Foliana. I’m sure of it. If I only had time, I’d go to that new dungeon in Liscor, and the old one they found in Terandria. I could put together clues. But there’s never enough time, is there?”
The Titan sighed, and Foliana broke off a piece of her strawberry muffin and offered it to him. He took a crumb the size of his head and chewed on it glumly.
“I suppose it does seem cowardly, doesn’t it? But I knew any battle with Velan would be disastrous, so I did what I could. The army I had to work with was dispirited and lacked unity. I couldn’t see any way to pin down Velan without him tearing a hole in every formation I sent at him. Do you think I was wrong not to try to occupy him?”
Foliana was silent as she sat on her chair. The candle dripped beads of wax slowly until she began to nibble at the candle as well. Niers snapped at her and she abandoned eating the candle and spoke at last.
“Niers, you remember what I told you when all the others were telling us to come fight, don’t you? They wanted us to send our company to Izril. Across the oceans. I said no. I don’t like water and you were there. That was enough.”
“I recall you saying so. You refused to cross to Izril.”
“Mm. And you know why that is?”
“Besides you not liking water?”
“Mhm. But also another reason. Do you know?”
“No. Why didn’t you go?”
Foliana stopped nibbling at her muffin and looked at Niers with her tri-colored eyes.
“I’m not an idiot either. Even if he ate muffins, I would get killed before I scratched him.”
She sat back on her chair. Niers looked thoughtfully at the book in front of him and then frowned.
“This author really is insufferable. Yes, we were in full retreat. But that was in the expectation of reinforcements! Which we received, I might add! You remember, don’t you, Foliana? We were negotiating for every company we could get to cross the seas, and then—”
“I remember. I offered them a muffin if they’d go.”
“I recall that. You need to work on your tact or let our [Emissaries] sort negotiations out, Foliana. I can’t believe you got the companies to actually agree to help. How did you do it? And don’t tell me it was a muffin.”
“It was.”
“They sailed across the sea and fought the Goblin Lord for a muffin?”
“Well, it was made of gold. And I did offer them a few baskets.”
—-
While the Goblin King’s armies pursued the Humans across the continent, the world was slowly beginning to wake up to his threat. The desperate pleas from the Humans and Drake requests for assistance went largely ignored in Chandrar, who had seen too much death from the King of Destruction already. But Baleros, enraged by the Goblin King’s treachery, had sent countless mercenary companies across the ocean. Rhir sent a small army as well, honoring the treaties as the Blighted King always has, but it was Terandria who was first to act.
The shorter distance between Terandria and Izril and the continent’s own history with the previous Goblin King, Curulac of a Hundred Days, meant that the normally short-sighted [Kings] and [Queens] were aware of the Goblin threat from the start. Thus, an army of two hundred thousand Terandrians landed on the northern shores of Izril at the end of the summer.
They met the Goblin King’s forces right away. Velan the Kind had been caught off-guard by the Human’s arrival and was in the middle of pulling his forces back to face this new threat. To buy time he personally assailed the Terandrians as they were landing ships with five thousand of his Goblin elites.
This writer realizes that the idea of five thousand Goblins attacking a force numbering over two hundred thousand seems ludicrous, but the Goblin King was cut of the same cloth that the King of Destruction, Flos, was made of. Tales of his ability in battle are widespread, and this writer will omit any tedious recitals of his feats in combat. Suffice it to say that the Goblin King was known for defeating enemy [Generals] and [Mages] in combat, and his Goblin elites were similarly powerful
.
The vanguard he led into battle was comprised of Hobs who were all as powerful as Gold-rank adventurers. They carried magical weapons and armor into battle and some were reportedly as tall as half-Giants. Whether these rumors are entirely accurate is unknown, but they were certainly a force to be reckoned with, as the Terandrians found to their cost.
The sheer daring of the attack on their ships caught the Terandrians unawares. The Goblin King managed to sink several ships before the Terandrians drove him off, and he successfully beat back the Terandrians in battle after battle, once again proving the futility of placing any kind of hopes on Humans.
However, the Terandrian forces were only the first wave. More fleets began arriving on Izril, all of whom began to come under immediate attack the instant they landed, sometimes before they reached ground. The Goblin King’s armies reformed into a spear that fought off the foreign armies, and the war in the north became a stalemate.
Yes, even with so many continents lending their aid, the battle against the Goblin King had only shifted from a losing battle into one on equal footing. Worse, it was feared that Tallis Stormbreaker would abandon his campaign to the south to support Velan the Kind.
The [Shaman] in the south had broken the Drakes and Antinium forces sent against him. And though the Antinium had stymied his forces, the Goblins would soon strike the larger blow. After a series of Antinium strikes against his forces, the Goblin King personally appeared in the south. He swiftly encircled an Antinium Hive and after wiping all the Antinium on the surface, led his army into the Hive and slew the Queen inside himself.
The fact that the Goblin King had succeeded in the very tactic that had cost so many lives of Drake armies must have shaken the Antinium terribly, for they immediately ceased attacking the Goblin King’s armies and pulled back all their armies to defend their remaining Hives. This cessation of assaults meant that Tallis Stormbreaker was free to maneuver his armies, which in turn gave him the opportunity to move through the High Passes and join the fighting in the north if he so chose.
If the Goblins concentrated all their forces in the north, the continent might be lost entirely, especially because the Necromancer had cut off the only safe land route north. And as the fighting drew into fall, it seemed like the Drakes might lose Liscor for good. No aid had reached the embattled forces of Zel Shivertail—Tallis Stormbreaker’s armies lay in the way, as did the Antinium forces. Zel Shivertail’s urgent missives were met with denials or silence from the Drake cities. Day by day his forces decreased and the Necromancer’s increased.
But still, Liscor fought! Against all odds dear readers, the Siege of Liscor had continued not for days, not for weeks, but for three months by the time they had reached the breaking point! Every adult in Liscor had taken to the walls during this time, and Zel Shivertail’s army continued to assail the Necromancer, holding the battle lines and shielding Liscor from the full brunt of his attacks.
Yes, if there is any battle to commemorate the spirit of Drakes, it would be that one. A single Drake [Spearsman] would stop a charging Draugr that Gold-rank adventurers might struggle to subdue. The Drake civilians, led by the core of their army, fended off wraith attacks and the undead giants with their indomitable spirit.
What courage, what valorous acts must have been seen every day! This writers longs to have been there, to see the heroism of Drakes at our finest. Despite the dark hour, the Necromancer had yet to take the city. And though it seemed like the final blow would be struck any day now, the Drakes still held on. Valiant, undeterred, full of the courage that is such a byword of the Drake species as a whole—
“Grandma, you’re grinding your teeth. If you don’t stop I’m taking the book away.”
Selys Shivertail sighed and looked up, unable to take the noise any longer. She didn’t live with her grandmother in the same apartment—that would have been a nightmare—but she visited the elderly Drake often. Selys usually found herself in her grandmother’s home at least once a week.
She told herself it was because she liked her grandmother, Tekshia Shivertail. And that was true, but it was also true that Tekshia Shivertail was the Guildmaster of the Adventurer’s Guild in Liscor. In other words, she was Selys’ boss as well as her grandmother and she wasn’t shy about withholding Selys’ pay unless her granddaughter showed up regularly.
It usually wasn’t a problem, but Selys would rather be out partying on a night like tonight. Instead, she was stuck with her grandmother, listening to the old Drake’s teeth grind and her tail thrashing.
“Stop reading that history book, grandma. You always get mad when you do, and remember what the [Healer] said?”
Tekshia Shivertail looked up. Her scales were grayer and had a lot less luster than Selys’, but she was still spry and quite attractive with her light green coloration. She lashed her tail irritably as she glared at her granddaughter across the table.
“What the [Healer] said? He said I’m in better shape than you are, girl. I’m fit, you’re not. I can still outrun half the Gnolls in this city and you’re too lazy to get out of bed until the sun’s halfway overhead!”
“…Right. But he said that you get angry and that’s a bad thing.”
“For other people maybe!”
Tekshia slammed a fist onto the table and Selys jumped.
“Yeah, and I’m other people, grandma! Remember when you sent that poor Gnoll to the healer’s?”
“What of it? I have a right to be angry, especially when I read this nonsense!”
Tekshia waved the book angrily at Selys. Her granddaughter peered at the book.
“What’s that? The Second History of the Antinium Wars? I thought the author was very complimentary about us.”
“He is. Too much! That idiot’s practically licking our feet and wagging his tail over our ‘heroic sacrifice’. Heroic? There was nothing heroic about the siege and the Necromancer! It was the most miserable, nightmarish three months I’ve ever lived through and I’ve lived a long time! But to hear this Wordsmith fellow tell it, we were all having a grand time! Here, just listen to that.”
Selys’ grandmother read the offending passage out loud and Selys winced.
“Okay, he might not understand how battles work. I don’t think this Drake has ever seen a zombie, much less anything scarier than that.”
Tekshia snorted, her tail curling around the leg of her chair in irritation.
“That’s clear enough. A single Drake [Spearman] stopping a charging Draugr? Hah! Those damn things will run down the length of your spear and gut you before you can blink twice! And fighting off wraiths with swords? What does this [Writer] think we did, yell at them and hurt their feelings?”
“At least he thinks we’re heroes. It could be worse.”
Selys tried to calm her grandmother down, but Tekshia was too incensed to let up. She got up, muttering, and poured herself some tea, angrily spilling some on the book.
“Ancestors take it! Get me a cloth before the ink runs, Selys. Not that one! That’s my good cloth! Yes, that! Bring it over here!”
She dabbed at the pages of the book with the second-best cloth as Selys sighed loudly. Tekshia ignored her and went on.
“Being called heroes is almost as bad as cowards. And he completely neglected to mention how we felt! It’s as if our situation didn’t matter, as if we could hold our ground despite the odds! We were begging for reinforcements. But oh no, he would have everyone thinking we were just too lazy to beat the Necromancer when he was slaughtering us day by day!”
She ground her teeth again, sipping at her tea and making a hissing sound deep in her throat.
“If that coward—this Wordsmith fellow ever dared come here, we’d show him what we think about his ‘history’ book. It’s a shame our army isn’t near his home, or I’d ask a few of the boys to go to his house and teach him a lesson.”
“Grandma!”
Selys shot out of her chair and glared at Tekshia, looking horrified. The older Drake was unapo
logetic.
“What? A few sticks and rocks and a beating is how we used to settle things! Street justice is swifter than the Watch—and more efficient too! It’s not like I’d ask them to kill him—just break his hands, maybe.”
“That’s just as bad!”
“Is it? He can write what he wants and get away with it and we can’t tell him how we feel? Not while I’m alive. Get me my quill and ink and some parchment, would you, Selys dear?”
“Absolutely not.”
Selys folded her arms. Tekshia eyed the younger Drake balefully, but then relented.
“You’re right. I’ll send a [Message] spell instead. Much quicker. Anyways, at least this Wordsmith fellow got one thing right.”
Tekshia opened the book again, ignoring her granddaughter’s spluttering. She tapped one claw approvingly on a line in the book.
“It was Zel Shivertail who rallied us. Without him we would have been lost. That much is true.”
“Uncle Zel? He never talks about the battle around me. What was it like with him fighting the Necromancer? Was he really as big a hero as everyone says he was?”
Selys leaned over the table, peering at the book. Tekshia tilted the page to show Selys. She sighed, her anger giving way to nostalgia.
“He was a giant. That silly young Drake with his battered armor, fighting on the front lines, surrounded by undead. Taking shots from Az’kerash himself and standing right back up and charging back into the fray—how could we not follow him? I remember when he would visit the city as a child. That hatchling became a fine [General]. So long as he stood, we could keep fighting.”
“It’s so strange. He never mentions any of that to me. He’s just Uncle Zel when he visits. He eats pies, beats up [Thugs]—I can’t ever picture him being a big hero on the battlefield.”
