The Eastern Dwarfs: Part One - The Red Fields

by deSouza, Leo

“It seems that they were attacked.” Olaf spoke walking slowly through the wreck.

  Torag was now bowing as he looked carefully at the scene, he circled an overturned wagon and called the others to come, there was blood splattered across the grass.

  “Yet no body.” Thuor said as he came close.

  “No sign of fight, but some ran…” Torag said as he walked slowly ahead following the clues. “They ran until here… And then disappeared!”

  “How many?” Thuor asked.

  “Hunf… Eight… Nine maybe.” Torag replied.

  “How is this possible? They ran and then just disappeared? What about the ones who did not run? They were sitting on the wagon seats and just boof! Disappeared?” Olaf asked.

  Torag looked ahead as if noticing something on the grass. “At least one escaped. I see his trail.”

  Olaf walked looking for stuff in the wagons and around. “There is nothing, everything is gone. Thieves!”

  “Ha! I’ve heard many stories about thieves, many can make coins disappear, some can make necklaces vanish, but I never heard about one that can make people disappear. Anyway in this case, it would be not a thief, but a wizard.” Torag said.

  “Where did he go? The one who escaped.” Rurur questioned.

  Torag pointed the horizon. “There.”

  Thuor looked out. “The Trade Meeting Post. He sought refuge there, it is just behind these hills.”

  “Refuge from what?” Rurur continued.

  “Whatever… We better think about ourselves now, as this wizard thief can still be around.” Olaf said looking around.

  Balfour began to fidget as he looked at something on the fields, Torag followed his sight. “There is someone coming.” He spoke.

  Thuor squinted as he looked at the horizon. “Let’s hide nearby and wait to see who is it.”

  Balfour started stirring his wings and screeching.

  “Too late they already saw us.” Torag said putting the hawk on his shoulder. He approached a wagon, climbed it and stood on its top, took a moment looking far ahead, then spoke: “A group… Coming fast.”

  “Men?” Thuor asked looking up to him.

  Torag squinted trying to see better. “Hunf… No men… smaller…”

  “Oh good! Dwarfs, I would bet one of our patrols, they know for sure what happened here.” Olaf said.

  Torag was still looking ahead, he spoke: “These are coming too fast for dwarfs… Wait… red goblins!”

  Thuor looked out hurried. “How many?”

  Torag took a moment before speaking. “A large group… Ten or fifteen, judging by how much dust is arising while they run!”

  “Let us go!” Thuor said.

  The group left, taking the road again, running as fast as they could.

  “The ram is too heavy!” Rurur shouted as he ran.

  As they fled, they could hear the screams of the goblins approaching. The road had a curve up ahead and followed behind the hills, dust raised in the air, Torag took his crossbow from his back and began to prepare it to be used as he ran, the ram snorted. They passed some trees and Rurur moved in their direction to hide there, but was pulled back onto the road by Torag. Now looking back they could already see the goblins, a group of fifteen, red like blood and one of them was riding a wild boar. As the dwarfs circled the hills they now saw the fort ahead.

  “There is! Trade Meeting Post! We cannot face that many on the open field!” Thuor exclaimed.

  “Open the gate! There is goblins chasing us!” Thuor shouted as they approached the fort.

  But then he noticed something, the gate was already open, and there was no sign of people there, the group entered it passing through the gatehouse and turned back to close it.

  “The lock is broken!” Olaf shouted noticing that the gate was half destroyed.

  Torag and Thuor looked around for timbering and found some pieces, they propped the gate. Then the group stepped back as they heard the screams of the goblins around the fort. Torag climbed a staircase and went to the high part of the wall, looking over it. The rest of the dwarfs came behind him and the group stood there looking out as the goblins circled the fort and threw rocks at its walls. The Trade Meeting Post was a brick fortification in a flat field, there were some towers in its walls and the structure was strong enough to prevent anyone from outside trying to come in without being invited. At the center of the fort there was a small open yard where there were trade stands and stalls and in a corner a small building with nothing more than a door and a window.

  “Where is everyone?” Torag asked looking into the fort.

  “They left!” A voice said coming from somewhere in the yard.

  There was a man, he came out of the building and stood in the center of the fort looking at the dwarfs. Torag and Olaf went to him, the ram was loose.

  “Who are ye?” Torag asked.

  The man looked at them with a dismayed expression. “The last one from the caravan you saw on the road, if you came through the road from north.”

  Thuor bowed to avoid being hit by a rock thrown from outside by the goblins.

  “Did you bring trouble with you?” The man asked suddenly becoming wakeful.

  “Plenty of trouble.” Thuor replied. “Where are the others?”

  “Dead.” The man said.

  “What about the ones in this fort? Why is it empty?” Torag insisted.

  “They left, some time ago, I told them it was too risky to go on open field, but they did not hear me.” The man replied.

  “They are climbing the walls!” Rurur shouted looking outside down the walls.

  From above the wall, Thuor looked at the goblins too and ordered: “Be gone!” He took a pole banner and poked a goblin who was climbing the wall making him fall on the ground. Then an arrow come from some goblin bow and almost hit his head, he ducked and came downstairs followed by Rurur, the group gathered on the main yard, from outside something hit the main gate making it tremble.

  “We are at your orders, captain!” Torag said with a gleam in his eyes.

  The captain looked down while firmly holding his warhammer with both hands. “Four dwarfs… And a man, against fifteen goblins. And not all of us are warriors, not to say we have no armor. This was not expected!”

  “Not expected! For sure! I thought this journey had nothing to do with fights! And now so early we came into one!” Olaf exclaimed.

  “I can fight.” The man broke in, taking a sickle from the ground.

  Thuor came to the ram and took some weapons from the saddle. He gave Olaf a shield and a small axe, and to Rurur a war mattock.

  “I’m no warrior.” Rurur spoke nervously.

  “Who told ye this?” Thuor asked. “Each one on a wall corner, on the platforms, behind the merlons. Don’t let them climb, hit them before they reach the top, and avoid the arrows!”

  “What about the gate?” The man asked.

  “I saw no battering ram, nor log. They can’t breach the gate, there are only three of them with bows, the other ones hold swords and spears…” Thuor replied.

  A big rock hit the gate making a noise that scared everyone. Thuor continued his talk: “Beware of the spears, they can stick ye from far on the walls, the ones with swords will only get a chance if they reach the top, don’t allow them!” Then he turned to Torag. “How many darts are on this crossbow?”

  “Enough for killing them all twice.” Torag replied.

  “Hit the archers first, then hit the leader.” Thuor continued.

  “Fine! The one on the boar!” Torag said.

  “Yes, the big red one riding the boar, he is wearing armor, hit his neck, or his head. Now go!” The captain replied.

  The group spread and went upstairs to the wall walks taking positions as the captain said, they could see some goblins already climbing the walls from outside.

  “Oh be gone ye disgusting rascals!” Rurur shouted not as a warrior but with the voice of someone very discontented.

  The goblins laugh
ed in their horrid voices. Rurur took a small rock and threw it at one of the goblins, it hit his head and he fell on the ground, but soon got up again.

  “They don’t want to get inside… These are prairie goblins, not cave ones. They are best fighters on the fields, they know the advantage of dwarf warriors inside an enclosed place.” Thuor said.

  “Go away!” The man shouted.

  Then the big goblin leader spoke from above the boar, surprising the dwarfs. “Ergh! We came to rip your leather and crush your bones!” He spoke in his evil voice. “You do have good spoil for us, dwarfs. Dwarfs are always rich, they always have something.”

  Torag felt a mixture of anger and repulsion upon hearing that hideous voice, and then he was taken by a sudden fury.

  “Get in and take what ye want ye filthy beast!”

  The goblins looked at him and furrowed their ugly faces into hate. Among everyone inside the fort, Torag was for sure the most bold one, not a prudent and mindful warrior like the captain, but none here was match for him when it was about willingness to enter a fight. The big red goblin was riding his boar from one side to the other as he looked at Torag with a devilish smile, showing his sharp fangs. “Why don’t you come down here… Dwarf?” He asked.

  Torag pointed his crossbow at him. “I’ll cut your head off as soon as I get the chance!”

  “Take the archers first!” Thuor shouted.

  Then the big goblin began to circle the fort, Torag was now trying to identify the archers. The goblins cursed, spat and raised their weapons in defiance. At distance Torag saw the leader riding the wild boar and they stared at each other, rehearsing with eyes the battle that was about to happen.

  Battle on The Trade Meeting Post.

  Torag was at his corner of the fort taking cover between two wall merlons when he shot the first arrow. It hit a goblin who was, with open arms, exposing his chest in a defiant gesture. It made the others scream and stir in rage.

  “The first archer is gone.” Torag said sitting behind a merlon and reloading his crossbow.

  At another corner Olaf was cowering behind the shield as he waited for the first goblin to come climbing close enough to hit. It didn’t take much time for a invader one to reach the top, but when Olaf struck the blow the sly goblin moved aside and jumped onto the wall walk beginning a fight with him. Olaf was no warrior so the first blows from the goblin sword hit the shield and made him tremble, but after some strokes he was able to strike back with his axe for the first time in a move that the enemy was not expecting, he cut the goblin’s arm making him to fall to his knees, the second blow hit his head, killing the creature. A second goblin was getting close, climbing to the top of the wall when Olaf lifted the dead one’s body from the wall walk and dropped it on him, both fell hitting the ground. Growls and grunts could be heard from the attackers outside the fort. Torag ran along the wall walk as he looked down outside trying to find the other archers, he came close to Thuor and saw a goblin archer preparing to shoot, but quick enough he fired his crossbow and hit his foe’s arm.

  “Eeeeech!” The goblin screamed.

  “Don’t let them come up!” Thuor shouted hammering the head of one who was about to reach the top of the wall.

  Torag bent to reload his crossbow.

  “Hit him in his neck this time!” Thuor spoke looking down.

  The wounded goblin was feebly trying to reload his bow when he was hit again by Torag, this time in the eye, and then the dwarf ran circling the fort by the wall walk, looking out for the last archer. The man was fighting hand to hand with a goblin who climbed up, sickle and sword battling as they cursed and grunted, the heavy footsteps of someone running were heard and suddenly Rurur appeared pushing the goblin with his body and throwing it out of the fort, down the wall. An arrow hit Olaf’s shield. “The archer is at this side!” He shouted.

  Torag ran to a small tower and stood inside there looking down trying to see the goblin, when he finally saw the bow in one’s hand, a fast shot was enough to hit the goblin’s head and make him fall dead. Thuor come close as he looked at the dead archer.

  “What if another one takes the bow?” Olaf asked.

  Thuor shook his head. “No one will, these are red prairie goblins, they have a complicated hierarchy, each one handles a type of weapon, and they don’t mess with this.”

  Olaf leaned against a wall merlon and looked down. “They don’t mess with because they are too stupid to take a different weapon!”

  There was a lull, the goblins gathered in front of the fort and took some distance while their leader was still looking ferociously from afar. The defenders also gathered above the gatehouse.

  “Be gone! And don’t come back no more!” The man shouted.

  “They will.” Thuor spoke. “They are just gathering to find another way in.”

  “What now?” The man asked.

  Thuor was sweating, he looked at the others and nodded. “We rest, and then we think about what to do.”

  They went downstairs and gathered in the main yard, there they sat on some wooden boxes spread around. Torag sat on the ground leaning his body against a barrel, the ram was hiding in a dark corner, wide eyed, and Balfour, the hawk, was standing in the saddle, Rurur came to them and stroked the ram as he whispered some soft words.

  “They are not going to give up.” Thuor said looking up to the sky. “They will come at night, for sure.”

  “Less of them, as some are already dead. And with less morale.” Olaf said.

  “Less of them, that is right. But ye are wrong about morale, these are red goblins, the more ye beat them, the more they get angry, the more they fight.” Thuor replied.

  The man looked at the captain thoughtful. “You know master dwarf, that they are too many for us, we could not deal with them all if they all decide to get in.”

  “It is true, as ye say.” Thuor replied.

  “We could set fire on them.” The man continued.

  The other ones looked at him.

  “Fire ye say.” Torag spoke.

  “There are many things we could burn. Wood, rubbish… and oil.” The man replied.

  “Oil!” Thuor exclaimed. “How much?”

  “Many barrels, they are for trading.” The man replied.

  “Well… Ye just gave me an idea. Bring the ram.” The captain spoke as he motioned.

  Rurur came pulling the animal as Thuor approached, from the saddle he took a kind of lighter, small sticks with spark stone in its tip and distributed it among the others.

  “Light up torches and put them on the wall merlons.” The captain said.

  It was already evening and they had no time to rest or eat for now. During the time after the goblins left, the group task was to make torches and then place them on the walls, that took the rest of the day. Sunset was about to happen when they gathered in the tallest tower to make a meal, there the dwarfs shared food with the man and talked about everything that happened. Salted pork from the King’s banquet, bread and onions, and for this time they had a fire to heat the meat so the smell of it took to the air. There were the five sitting on a wooden platform in a tower, watching around the fort and waiting for the goblins to come.

  Among them, Olaf and Rurur were the only ones who had never had any experience with fighting, and both were now quite unsettled about this struggle, but they said nothing, though the tension in their eyes was visible as Thuor and even Torag could notice. The man was not a warrior and had never participated in any battle like this one, but he was one who lived on the prairies and was used to struggle with other men, strifes about trading, and even some occasions when he had to drive off one or two wrongdoer goblins like the ones they were fighting now. The captain was serene as for him battles were not a novelty, although he had not engaged in one for a long time, but the scars on his arms were the proof of an experienced fighter. As for Torag, this was probably the one among the others that more valued a good fight and the joy of winning a battle, he was still a little bit exc
ited even now after the goblins left, for he knew that if the captain’s words were right, soon there would be more.

  “How did ye get here?” Olaf asked to the man.

  “Well… My cousin asked me to come, we were to come to this place, the Trade Meeting Post, and sell some goods…” Replied the man.

  Thuor interrupted him. “Malmas is your name.”

  The man furrowed, surprised. “How do you know?”

  “We talked to your cousin, at the Red Earth Tavern. Earlier this day.” Thuor replied.

  Malmas looked down. “So they don’t know what happened, yet.”

  “How could they know? When exactly did the goblins attack the caravan?” Thuor asked.

  “Goblins? No… They were not. It’s was something else.” Malmas replied.

  A noise was heard nearby outside the fort, Thuor held his warhammer and looked down, but nothing came. The man continued his talk: “We had gathered the entire crop of the last days, me and several other farmers, and we packed many breads and pastas and came down the road from the north, it was late afternoon when we heard a very loud shriek from above… Suddenly everything went darker, as if a big shadow had covered us, it was in an instant, and then the wagons were thrown forward violently, all overturned, everything we brought scattered on the ground, and many of us were thrown off the road.”

  Rurur stopped chewing as he heard it, he looked at Olaf as he held a piece of meat in his hand and a cup of wine in the other one. “What was it at all?” He asked.

  “I don’t know.” Malmas said as he shrugged. “As I was thrown out of the wagon I hit the ground and stayed there, playing dead, and stuffing my face as deep as possible in the grass. I heard some people screaming and then when I finally could not handle it anymore I looked back, but saw nothing. They were all gone…

  “Gone? Ye mean, they ran.” Torag said.

  “No, I mean they were gone. Don’t ask me how. Then I ran, and reached here, I think that things scattered on the ground attracted the goblins, they took everything.” The man said.

  “What about this place, what did ye find when ye reached here?” Thuor insisted.