God of Gnomes

by Demi Harper

  Though the kobolds looked around warily as they crept between the colossal stalks, they quickly grew bold in the absence of puffball-flinging gnomes, and soon spread out among the trees.

  What they didn’t know was that my lumberjacks had spent a good chunk of the previous days hacking partway through the stalks of the shroomtrees, weakening them significantly. In fact, the massive mana-enhanced stalks were so structurally compromised that I was surprised – not to mention relieved – none of them had fallen yet.

  That leaves more for this next part.

  With my acolytes’ worship and the shaman’s death, I had four full globes pulsing in the right-hand side of my vision. I hope it’s enough.

  With a pulse of mana, I activated Growth.

  Beginning with the shroomtrees on the outer edges of the field, I rapidly enlarged them until they started to topple. The kobolds, now trapped among the dangerously groaning behemoths, panicked and ran on blindly.

  The structural damage already inflicted by my gnome workers meant that although there were fifty shroomtrees, I only had to imbue each one with a fraction of mana before it began to groan and topple under its new mass. It used just under four globes of mana in all, meaning I was now once again running on empty until my acolytes had managed to replenish my stores with worship.

  Working from the outside of the shroomtree patch inward, I wreaked my Growth-based destruction, crushing several unfortunate kobolds and funneling the rest toward the second palisade. There, Hammer and her wall of shield-bearing, leather-armored fighters were waiting to greet the enemy as they sprinted blindly out from the falling trees and clouds of dirt.

  When the dirt had settled, another dozen or so kobolds lay dead or dying among the fallen shroomtrees. I experienced a moment of dissonance as I looked down on the grisly scene: less than a day ago, the lumberjacks had been hard at work here, felling timber for the sawyers and builders while Bruce and the other badgers truffled for insects among the roots. Now, the trees were all violently toppled, and the soil was home to naught but corpses.

  Although the tree-laden ground now prevented the enemy from advancing in a single co-ordinated horde, one of the downsides of my strategic Growth spurt was that the fallen shroomtrees provided excellent cover for the rest of the advancing kobolds. They darted from trunk to trunk in groups of two and three, zig-zagging as they ran and making it difficult for my slingers – now in position on the platforms of the second pair of palisades – to target them.

  Every group of kobolds that moved forward was covered by a volley of thrown spears, keeping both my slingers and my melee warriors pinned down behind the palisades and allowing the kobolds to advance unmolested until a large force of them – perhaps thirty or so – had gathered in among the fallen trees. My mana was regenerating all too slowly, and so I could only watch as the kobolds let out a reptilian roar and broke cover, pouring across open ground toward the palisade in a red-scaled flood.

  Formed in a sharp concave with a gap in its centre, the palisade funnelled the oncoming enemy towards the shield wall that stoppered the breach, leaving the slingers to pepper the enemies from the platforms on the palisade’s inner sides.

  The mindless enemy acted just as I had thought, heading towards the exposed gnomes directly in front of them, rather than attempting to surmount the wooden wall stretching to either side of them.

  The slingers rained bullets down upon the charging enemy as Hammer and Graywall’s heavy infantry set their feet, preparing for the impact of reptilian flesh.

  There was no need for Possession here; these warriors had practised for this moment a thousand times, and at Hammer’s command, the small army set their shields. It was extraordinary to witness, turning them from a seeming rabble into a single, armoured organism.

  The frontmost ranks braced their shields in an interlocking line, and the ranks behind lifted their shields above the heads of those in front. The effect was a white-spotted convex wall of red, bristling with spear points and buzzing with the war-cries of the gnomes behind.

  As I’d learned from our previous skirmishes, the kobolds carried no shields. Either Grimrock’s Sphere did not have the materials to craft them, or their training just didn’t account for the idea of defense; either way, their lack of experience either wielding or facing them worked to our advantage.

  The kobolds slammed into the formation with wild abandon, their mouths gaping in seeming surprise as the wall of gnomes held firm against their charge. The beasts hacked mindlessly at my warriors’ red-and-white shields, even as the gnomish spear points jabbed at their faces.

  To my dismay, a couple of unlucky strikes found their way through gaps in the shield wall, felling two gnomes from the front rank. At Hammer’s command, others stepped forward to replace them, locking their shields with the others even as the kobolds’ weapons rained down on them. The hardy redcap shields absorbed the damage easily, weathering the blows with little to show but shallow scratches in the wood.

  Then, as the wave of kobolds broke against the impenetrable facade, Hammer called a second command to her warriors. As one, they pushed.

  The kobolds were forced back, scraping and shoving against the coordinated movement, and Hammer’s warriors advanced a step.

  Again, Hammer’s voice cut through the uproar. Another push; another step.

  Then the gnomes set their feet and returned to thrusting their short spears through the gaps above and below their shields, this time with renewed ferocity.

  Unable to defend against stabbing attacks they couldn’t see coming, kobolds fell, one by one, and for several minutes the tide was halted in the narrow gap between the palisades. Hammer’s troops kept the main bulk of the force in place while Bullet’s slingers shot deadly stones into their midst from the palisade above.

  Though elated at our success, I did not let myself grow complacent. The tail end of the kobold army was still emerging from the Passage, and our odds grew thinner with every one of them.

  It soon became clear I was right to remain cautious. As the flood of kobolds grew, more than sixty of the creatures pressing harder against our shield wall, a handful of the enemy were pushed out along the palisade and into the stream. More followed them as the press grew. When they realized the water in the shallows barely came up past their knees, the small group of kobolds yipped in excitement and began simply wading around the gnomes’ palisade, on course to circle around and attack the shield wall from behind.

  A brief moment’s possession of Bullet ensured that he caught sight of them, and diverted the eight slingers on that side from attacking the main horde to picking off these cunning infiltrators instead. Slingstones flew with at the sneaking kobolds, with many hitting their mark. One kobold took a slingstone to the throat; it dropped with a splash, twitching violently in the shallow water. The other kobolds climbed over its body without a second glance, snapping and snarling up at the slingers on the palisade platform.

  Bullet’s troops managed to fell another two, but another dozen were now following, and the slingers could only do so much. And in spite of the ranged gnomes’ increasingly panicked warnings, the melee warriors were too absorbed in holding up the shield wall to hear them. If only we’d come up with some means of signaling!

  If the shield wall’s rear line did not turn to deal with this new threat, they would be massacred in moments, as would the slingers. I checked my mana; in the time that had elapsed while I watched the battle, my acolytes’ ongoing worship had pushed me to almost two globes. It was time to take action.

  Hammer was engaged at the very front of the shield wall, but Graywall, Hammer’s fellow drill officer, was in the center of the rear line. Perfect. I focused on Graywall and poured mana into Possession.

  With a disorienting jolt of adrenaline, I found myself looking out into a heaving mass of fighting. My arm ached from holding up my redcap shield, but the kobold spears that skittered intermittently across its surface told me that to lower it was to die.

  Th
e gnome warrior in front of me was just inches away from my face; I smelled sweat and dirt and blood and fear. Cocooned in a cloying chorus of weapons hammering against wood, I could barely even hear the grunting and shouting of the warriors to either side of me, let alone the baying of kobolds or the calls of the slingers above.

  Knowing the group of kobolds from the stream would make their way around our defenses at any moment, I utilized Graywall’s impressive vocal chords to shout new orders at the shield wall’s rear-most line. In spite of their rapidly growing exhaustion, ten gnomes withdrew from the main formation, stepping back with spears held vertical and then turning neatly on the spot.

  They raised their shields, locking them together, and lowered their spears to rest atop the shields, points bared toward the kobolds that were even now creeping around the edge of the palisade, dripping bloody water.

  Sixty-Three

  Horribly Wrong

  The shield wall was surrounded.

  With my mana down to a single globe, I’d withdrawn from Graywall, knowing he was far better equipped to deal with the actual fighting than I was. It was a relief to escape from the heat and mess of battle, though I felt guilty that I was the only one capable of doing so.

  Graywall’s troops had formed a schiltron – a compact formation that allowed them to lock shields and move across the battlefield, facing outwards in order to defend against enemies from all directions. The eight exposed slingers had made a rapid retreat to their fellows on the other wall, and the kobolds had, predictably, charged the embattled gnomes on the ground instead.

  The kobolds from the stream had clearly been expecting to take the gnomes by surprise, and were unprepared for meeting such concentrated resistance. Graywall’s ten warriors managed to take down a trio kobolds during the initial clash.

  Now, these flanking attackers had second thoughts, backing away from the bristling schiltron. They looked around, realizing they were now completely behind the bulk of the gnome forces, the village exposed. Sensing opportunity, they bayed loudly, and hared off toward the nearest bridge.

  Horror filled me.

  My slingers peppered these flanking kobolds as best they could, but they were quickly out of range.

  I spent a few seconds with Possession to warn the half-dozen militia guarding the bridge; then, realizing the kobolds were all heading for the same bridge, commanded the gnomes from the second bridge to make their way toward the first. With the reinforcements, there would be a dozen gnomes guarding a single bridge against ten or so kobolds. I didn’t really like those odds, but there wasn’t much I could do. I needed the rest of the militia to remain near my gem; after all, if the kobolds managed to remove me from the Grotto, all would be lost.

  I desperately wanted to stay to oversee the fight on the bridge, but things were not going well back at the second palisade. Hammer and her warriors were giving it their all, but the weight and ferocity of half a hundred kobolds throwing themselves against the main shield wall was starting to tell.

  Dead gnomes lay at the feet of their comrades, trampled by kobolds as the formation was pushed back. The gnomes’ strength was starting to fail, and even as I watched; first one, then two, then three more gnomes from the front line fell, hacked at mercilessly by the near-rabid kobolds.

  Finally, inevitably, the shield wall broke, and I watched in mesmerized horror as the gnomes’ possum-hide armor mingled with crimson kobold scales in a raging, claustrophobic melee. Stone and wood clashed against obsidian in the crashing chorus of combat.

  True to their training, the gnomes made efforts to regroup, working their way toward the sound of their officers’ voices and rallying together around their leaders into two compact schiltrons, shields locked and spears jutting outwards in defensive circles. Injured warriors gathered behind the stronger shield-bearers, darting low beneath the mushroom caps to cut at red-scaled shins.

  The kobolds, on the other hand, did not fight in any sort of formation. In fact, they didn’t display much discipline at all, which was a contrast to what I’d seen during the last battle. But then, these were new troops, replenished over the past month.

  And there was no Barka here to guide them. He had been a fearsome commander, and the kobolds had seemed to have no choice but to obey his commands. I was incredibly thankful that my avatar had taken him out of the equation, even though she’d died doing so. However, Grimrock’s nightmarish avatar remained an even larger threat.

  So far I’d been keeping Ris’kin back from the battle; much as it pained me to let my gnomes fight unaided, I didn’t want to risk losing my avatar before Snagga arrived. Though she railed against her passive position guarding my altar in a corner far from the fighting, Ris’kin obeyed my orders to remain there, perhaps sensing that she was the only one here capable of defeating that dread creature. Without her, the gnomes wouldn’t be able to stand against it for more than a few seconds.

  But where was it?

  My gnomes were still holding their own in melee, their two separate schiltrons standing firm before the kobolds’ onslaught. The enemy hurled themselves against the shields, heedless of the jabbing spears that pierced their scales. A couple of kobolds fell from this sheer stupidity, black blood leaking from self-inflicted wounds.

  However, my ranged gnomes were in trouble. Kobolds swarmed up both palisades, butchering the slingers they found on the platforms. Three of the gnomes were cut down in moments; the rest panicked and leapt for the ground. One stumbled and fell; when she tried to rise, a kobold jumped down after her and embedded its black blade in her skull.

  The other surviving slingers had attempted to make for either Hammer or Graywall’s schiltrons, but the shield-bearers were surrounded by attacking kobolds; there was no way the gnomes could get through to them. Bullet, the ranged drill officer, was frozen with indecision, so I did the only thing I could and activated Possession.

  An instant later, I understood Bullet’s predicament. Should he rally his remaining slingers to attack the kobolds surrounding the shield formations? Or should he command them to run?

  The former would almost certainly guarantee the slingers’ deaths; they might be able to kill a few kobolds, but the rest would no doubt turn their attention upon their new attackers, who wouldn’t stand a chance against their blades.

  ‘Retreat!’ I bellowed with Bullet’s voice, then withdrew from his body to allow him to do the same.

  The dozen slingers scattered, but already the kobolds that had attacked the palisades were leaping down to pursue them. Bullet, the last one to run, fell victim to a slash from a kobold sword that cut open his midsection. He tumbled to the ground with a scream. The kobold hacked viciously at the fallen officer, and I glimpsed exposed ribs and glistening gnome intestines before I dragged my gaze away in horror.

  My fault, I couldn’t help but think. My fault.

  Ket sensed my guilt. ‘Corey, you gave the others a chance to save themselves. If you hadn’t intervened, they would all be like Bullet now.’

  The slingers’ fate was still uncertain, though; they were being hunted by a dozen or so kobolds, and two more of the gnomes were already lying face down and bloody on the ground. This was all going horribly wrong.

  My spirits sank even further as an orange glow lit the area. At the rear of the press of kobolds were three shamans, their silhouettes sinister in the light of their unholy fire. As if obeying some secret signal, two of them split off from the main press, while the other raised its glowing hands. The shaman hurled a fireball high, the projectile arcing slowly towards my gnomes. I activated Possession with a flash of panic, and then I was inside Hammer’s head.

  I forced her to disengage from her opponents and give new commands to those fighting with her. Clumsy with exhaustion, Hammer’s group dropped to their knees, huddling together and lifting their shields in the direction of the oncoming missile. Shield upon redcap shield was raised, exposing the gnomes to kobold swords as they protected their heads from the oncoming flames.

&
nbsp; Two of Hammer’s warriors were cut down by kobolds, and then the fireball hit. It splashed down with a whump, spreading like liquid along the shield-tops and dripping between the gaps to elicit gnomish screams. But soon enough the flames fizzled to nothing, leaving steaming caps beneath.

  The pitiful gnomes’ screams pained me, but the kobolds they had been battling had been granted no such foresight. A handful of them caught flame and ran away shrieking, to writhe on the ground and eventually fall still, contorted and blackened and smoking. The sight of their obsidian weapons melted and fused to their fingers made me exceptionally glad for the redcaps’ natural fire resistance.

  Their path cleared by the sizzling kobolds, Hammer and her dozen warriors shook off their pain and shock and surged forward toward the surprised shaman, catching it unawares. Knife still sheathed at its belt, it wasn’t expecting to be engaged at close quarters, and went down easily beneath the warriors’ stabbing spears and bashing shields.

  Undaunted by their fallen comrade, the two remaining shamans circled the edges of the fray, no doubt seeking the most strategic places to pour forth their own flames. Having felled the first shaman, Hammer’s warriors had stopped to nurse their burns, but a few seconds’ Possession of Hammer had them stumbling back into formation.

  It was time to call Ris’kin into the fight. It was a risk putting her in danger, but there’d been no sign of Snagga yet, and I couldn’t just leave her unused on the sidelines while letting my warriors die beneath the shamans’ fire.

  ‘We need Ris’kin,’ I whispered.

  ‘You’re right, Corey,’ said Ket. ‘Now!’

  I wasted no more time.

  ‘Go!’ I told my avatar.

  She didn’t need to be told twice. She barely needed to be told once. Ris’kin leapt away from my shrine and bounded across the cavern. She was forced to stop when she reached the bridge in order to take care of the kobolds that were attacking the defenses there.