by R. G. Long
"Holve, Gorplin wants you up at the mouth of the cave. You may as well come too, Ealrin. Goblins."
EALRIN, GORPLIN, HOLVE, Teresa, and Lote all lay on their bellies as they looked out of the mouth of the cave. What looked like five hundred goblins had made camp within a stone’s throw of where the survivors lay watching them. The sunlight filtered down from the tops of the trees that covered the base of the mountain they had traveled under and stretched all the way to the edge of the ocean. From this distance, Ealrin could smell the sea. Gorplin and Holve estimated they were somewhere in-between Liaf and Loran on the southern coast of Thoran.
The coast that was covered in goblins.
Most had made some type of lean-to out of fallen branches and strips of raggedy cloth. Others had simply passed out underneath bushes and other shrubs. There was a lot of commotion going on in the camp, however, and it wasn’t because a group of humans, elves, and dwarves were all within reach. Four or five fights had broken out between goblins and around each were fifty or so others egging them on.
They insulted the fighters and encouraged those they had placed bets on. From here Ealrin could see pots that goblins kept chucking gold bits into. Every now and then one of the spectators got drug into the fighting. Whether it was for a particularly nasty insult or betting against a fighter who took it personally, the fights continued to grow and became even rowdier.
Ealrin wondered how any goblin general could convince another goblin to do anything.
These were the strangest beasts, he thought.
“Bah. Nothing to stop us from ridding this forest of their ilk,” said Gorplin as he began to rise from his position of observing, using his battle hammer to push himself up.
“Hold on there, friend,” Holve said as he put a hand on Gorplin’s shoulder, urging him back down. “I’m sure that with your courage and skill we could rid ourselves of these pests, but I’m more curious about what these goblins are doing here, on the eastern side of Ruyn. They would have either had to sail all around the Southern Republic unhindered, or marched here without meeting any resistance. And I find it odd that they are positioned outside the very tunnel we traveled through.”
Ealrin began to think on Holve’s words. It was odd that such a large group of goblins would end up here. It was almost as if...
“Do you suppose they are not acting on their own whims?” Teresa asked Holve, finishing Ealrin’s thoughts for him. “But who would a goblin listen to? I’m surprised they listen to their own leaders.”
It was true. The scene in front of Ealrin was chaos.
“I’m unsure, Teresa. I wonder, if we may be able to get a closer look at them and find out a bit more about what they are doing here?”
Holve turned his attention from Teresa to Lote. She nodded at Holve’s unasked question, understanding her role in this.
Ealrin, though, had a thought.
“I’m going with her, Holve,” he said, unsheathing his sword. “If things get crazy, she’ll need a helping hand.”
Holve looked at Lote, who shrugged as she drew her bow and notched an arrow into it.
“Follow closely and keep quiet,” she said in response. Of course she would be able to get close enough to listen in on the goblins. Such was the skill of her race. Whereas Ealrin would only be a hindrance. He was surprised she agreed to his suggestion.
Holve chuckled softly and looked at Ealrin.
“I’d do as you’re told,” he said. Then turning back to Lote, he continued.
“Look for the biggest one pushing everyone else around. He ought to be the leader, or at least know something about why they camped out here. If you need help, signal and we’ll be ready from the cave.”
“I’m going too,” Teresa said as she drew her own two blades.
“With hundreds of goblins out there, if you’re discovered you’ll need more than a bow and a blunt sword.”
FORTUNATELY THE RUCKUS from the goblins fighting and their generally loud stomping and crushing through the woods while trying to find food and pick on other goblins made sneaking around the edge of their camp quite easy.
Ealrin knew that Lote could have tiptoed her way right through the middle of the goblin camp without being detected. Such was her skill as an elf. But Ealrin wanted to know and hear for himself what the goblins were doing here. Plus, he had to admit, the risk and adventure of it allured him.
Maybe in his life before being shipwrecked at Good Harbor he had been a little more reckless than he ought to have been.
The trees and undergrowth of the forest grew thickly here. Gorplin and Holve had guessed that they had emerged from the tunnel at the southern end of Thoran and therefore a road that connected the two cities of Liaf and Loran should be close by. If the king was going to march from one to the other, he would have to use this road.
Which could explain the presence of the goblins.
THE TRIO TOOK SPECIAL care to crouch below the bushes and undergrowth of the forest so as not to be easily spotted. Ealrin was beginning to feel like this was an unnecessary precaution, as any goblin who would want to pick a fight was preoccupied with the squabbles taking place deep in the camp.
Other goblins who were perhaps more lazy, simply slept in their tents or out in the open ground. One in particular was much more ornately decorated. Unlike the other tents that were blankets thrown over branches, this one was actually constructed out of tent poles and yellow covered canvas. A goblin banner hung outside of it. Three red stripes ran down a yellow background looking like something with claws had made the design.
Several skulls hung from the ends of the banners as well as adorned the top of the tent pegs. The tent stood taller than Ealrin could reach, which was huge for the shorter goblins.
Around the tent, several taller and more muscular goblins stood guard while others simply ran around the camp.
Ealrin tapped Lote's shoulder and pointed to it. She nodded silently and gestured for him and Teresa to follow her so they could get closer to it.
And so the three crept closer toward the tent while staying out of sight of any goblins that were close or could see them. They weaved in and out of other makeshift tents and lean twos and bushes before coming within a few steps of the tent.
As they approached it one of the fights in the goblin camp took a more violent turn. Ealrin could see the head of a defeated goblin being lifted up into the air by his opponent. The goblins surrounding the victorious one began pressing in on him. Some of the larger ones outside the tent huffed and marched toward the commotion. Whether to break it up or join the fight Ealrin didn't know.
Now they were right next to the tent and could distinctly hear voices inside of it. They listened through the canvas to better hear the conversation.
What they heard next sent Ealrin’s mind racing.
"...Androlion's original promise to you still stands. The goblins have done well, but you have yet to completely fulfill my master’s wishes," said a voice that Ealrin had heard before. One that reminded him of an inn, Blume, and escaping Breyland on stolen horses.
Verde. One of the Merc generals.
"It's not my fault you were late. It's not my fault Grayscar lost. He was dumb. Not strong enough. You promised goblins the mountains. You promised more shock rock," said the voice of a goblin. Ealrin remembered how much he disliked the beasts. Not to mention that this one sounded mad.
"You will keep your promise. Otherwise the goblins might forget their part."
The three heard the sound of scuffling inside and a choking noise. Then came the sound of Verde’s harsh words.
"You filth will remember your place. Either bring us the head of the king or forget the bargain. Not only will you not inherit the mountains of Thoran, but you'll forfeit that desert you call home as well."
With that they heard a crash, which to Ealrin sounded like the unfortunate goblin Verde had just reprimanded had been thrown into a pile of wood. Or a table.
The sound of several boots moving at once came to their ears a
long with the call from Verde, which sounded further away, suggesting he was leaving the other side of the tent.
"The king marches from Liaf to Loran. See that he doesn't make it."
There was the sound of moving fabric on the other side as well as calls of "Get out-of-the-way!" and "Move it!"
Verde and some other soldiers were making their way out of the goblin camp.
From inside the tent there came a groan and a disgruntled voice.
"Stupid humans. Bossing goblins around. We'll teach them. Stinkrunt'll show them all."
The sound of bits of wood being thrown to the side and the goblin scrambling to his feet filled the tent. Ealrin looked to Teresa and Lote.
Androlion was in league with the gray skinned beasts.
“I’M NOT SAYING I DON’T believe. I’m just saying it doesn’t make sense.”
Holve was responding to the story Ealrin was relating to him after they had successfully navigated back to the mouth of the cave. Well, mostly successfully. The goblin camp would be missing one nosey goblin tonight, but with the ruckus that was still going on, he probably wouldn’t be missed terribly.
“Does it matter if they’re in league with the rat or not? We still can’t leave this cave until we’ve gotten rid of the vermin,” said Gorplin. Of those gathered around the mouth of the cave discussing their next steps after finding out this new bit of information, his opinion of what to do hadn’t changed.
Fight the goblins.
Ealrin was beginning to think there might not be any other options. King Thoran was planning on marching this way. If his numbers hadn’t been affected by the march or the struggle with, who was it again? Grayscar? Then he should have no problem with this ragtag bunch of goblins.
Ten thousand versus five hundred was laughable.
But what in the world was shock rock?
“What we still don’t know is if there are any more of them,” reminded Holve. He was convinced that for the goblins to think they could take on the King and his army, they must either have been lied to grievously by Verde, or have other goblin clans waiting in a part of the forest nearby or on ships out at sea.
He seemed more cautious than Ealrin could remember in recent past.
Lote hadn’t said much since coming back and reporting. She instead sat and stared up at the night sky without adding any commentary to the meeting.
Teresa, on the other hand, was beginning to get irritated with Holve and his cautious attitude.
“If the king marches and there are more of them, than all the better for us to deal with the ones we see in front of us,” she said, raising her voice a little too loudly for Holve’s taste.
He shushed her with a hand.
She was ready to march off fuming when Holve looked to Lote. She had signaled to the group quietly.
Something was happening out in the goblin camp.
Something that involved a whole lot of goblins yelling.
IT DIDN'T TAKE LONG for the survivors in the cave to see what the fuss was all about.
The night sky had begun to turn a deep orange through the forest trees, though the morning light was not due for at least half of Gorplin's hourglass.
All of the goblins were running away from the base of the mountain and towards the sea. Whether it was to escape the light or to get a better look, Ealrin couldn't tell.
All he knew was that their escape was now possible, as the forest had been nearly cleared of the gray menace.
It was time to leave.
Looking back to the others, he could tell they were thinking the same thing. Holve spoke to Gorplin first.
"We'll fight goblins again another time my courageous friend. For now, let us find a king."
Gorplin didn't argue, but he did look a bit downcast at losing the chance to bash some goblins with his hammer.
Word soon got back to the cave that the company would be moving soon and everyone pressed toward the entrance. Teresa and Lote were already outside, surveying the area in order to see if any stragglers had stayed behind.
Ealrin heard the twang of a bowstring and the grunt of a goblin.
Apparently some had.
“I’ll amend what I said Gorplin,” Holve said as they began to file out of the cave. “You’ll fight goblins today after all.”
Ealrin took up his sword next to the dwarf. Teresa drew her blades and Lote strung another arrow to her bow.
Indeed, there were some goblins that ran to them with a fierceness.
Ealrin’s brow furrowed.
The night was about to burn red as well.
THE CAVE EMPTIED QUICKLY as a few defended those fleeing.
Granted the dwarves weren't much for stealth compared to the men and especially the silence of the elves, but since the goblins were mostly so far off at this point it didn't matter much.
They hugged the base of the mountain, ensuring to keep as many trees in-between them as possible as they made their way north.
If King Thoran was to march this way, the least they could do was to meet him en route.
And still the sky burned orange.
"What in the world is that, Holve?" Ealrin asked as they marched as quickly as they dared through the forest.
Holve was still slow but also stubborn. The few hundred kept a decent pace, as they made their way north to Liaf. Holve wouldn't slow for anyone. Though he grunted and grimaced, he marched.
"We'll know once we see the sky," he said through gritted teeth. Ealrin could tell the journey had worn down the soldier. "For the time being, march."
And so they marched.
It must have been two hours, maybe three before they came to the clearing. A wide circle of trees opened before them. For some reason, no tall pine or oak grew in this ring, only grass.
It would have been time for Ealrin to wonder what would cause such a thing to occur.
If it were not for the burning orange comet in the sky.
"Not so dark anymore is it?" said Gorplin as the dwarves came out of the forest last. Their short legs weren't meant for quickness.
"You know about the Dark Comet?" asked Ealrin, only afterwards realizing how foolish a question it had been. Anyone with a view of the sky in the last two years would have seen the fireball in the night sky.
But none, until now, had seen it so close.
"Yes," replied Gorplin, ignoring the silliness of Ealrin's question. "Though we dwarves don't pay much attention to the skies. I'd rather be lost in a mine than the stars."
"A fault of your race at times, I think," replied Lote as she gazed up at the sky.
Ealrin thought that might have been a bit harsh on the dwarf. Gorplin agreed, as he gripped his hammer a little tighter and huffed loudly.
Holve placed a hand on Gorplin's shoulder. Perhaps it was to calm the dwarf down. Perhaps also it was to steady himself. His breathing was still heavy from the last hour's march.
"We've been watching the dark one as it approached Gilia," continued Lote, not noticing Gorplin's anger at her statement. "It brings an omen with it. Though what exactly it is, I cannot say. The stars do not tell the future as definitively as the runes set in the stones of dwarves. They more show the path a river could take unimpeded. A possible course. One of many possibilities."
All stood gazing up at the fiery comet. It was, indeed, closer than Ealrin had seen since he could remember. Of course that was only a short time. But never had it burned this brightly in the night sky. That he knew from Holve and Roland's stories. It had always been a deep purple, thus disappearing in the night sky and earning its name.
There was a moment of silence from those gathering in the clearing.
In the distance the shouts of goblins rang out over the night noises: the chirping of crickets, the call of night birds, and the babble of a nearby stream.
Ealrin voiced what he imagined others were thinking.
"What possibilities have your people seen in the sky, Lote?"
She broke her gaze with the comet and looked to E
alrin. Her eyes were misty and, could it be, a tear?
She opened her mouth to speak, but before she had time to answer, they heard the peal of a trumpet.
A herald of Thoran.
36: King Thoran
The maroon and gold banners of the army of the king were a welcomed sight to Ealrin. It had been nearly four weeks since he had last seen them march from the capital. Though they looked as if they had been recently in battle, their numbers were still sufficient enough to take the Merc army from the pass on even ground.
Spears stood tall and pierced the night sky. Swords clanged against shields on the backs of eight thousand. Boots marched along the road that split the beach from the forest and mountains. Two thousand horses carried two thousand spears and their holders. In the middle of it all was the king himself. His personal banner to his left, an eagle clutching a sword and wearing a crown, and the banner of Thoran to his right.
Here was hope.
Men, elves and dwarves cheered as the company began to march through their ranks. Mostly at the sight of Holve and Teresa: the general of Thoran and the daughter of the king.
Perhaps there was hope in them as well.
Yet something was odd to Ealrin.
It was nighttime, yet the army marched as if it were the middle of the day. Could the light of the comet spur them into action? Or was it something else?
They approached the king, who at seeing them, raised his hand to stop the march. Trumpets sounded out again from all around and the army halted.
"My king," Holve said, as he bowed. Those around him, including the dwarves of Kaz-Ulum did likewise. "We are grateful to see you as we have much to say."
Ealrin looked up at the king.
Though he could tell there was relief to see Holve, Teresa, and the others, there was a furrow on his brow and pain in his voice.
"My general, my daughter. It is good to see you safe. But where is the army that marched from River Head?"
Holve stood up and looked around him. As he did, there came the pounding of goblins drums from further south.
