The dwarves weren’t all happy about turning in early, but they understood that the battle wasn’t over yet. They were willing to forego celebrating if it meant they could finish the goblins off tomorrow. Timmy spent much of the night guiding his stealthier zombies through the winding corridors of the city. A zombie pigeon-chameleon might not be the quickest flier or the best fighter, but it was all but impossible to detect, and a few minor adjustments had given it excellent night vision too. Unfortunately, there was good news and bad news.
On the upside, the city was absolutely littered with goblin corpses. He’d have to get his zombies to help clear them out later because it would take the dwarves forever to get rid of them on their own. The sheer number of dead goblins was a sobering reminder of how well the poison gas had done its work. Better still, most of the corpses were useable. He and Katie could turn them into zombies to use against the remaining goblins, a tactic that even goblins would find unnerving since few species enjoyed fighting their own dead.
On the downside, there were numerous holdouts – chambers that had been barricaded shut or which relied on other ventilation ducts. Some of the holdouts could be occupied by dwarves, but many of them would be full of enraged goblins desperate for revenge. They’d have to deal with each holdout before moving on since turning their backs on even a handful of goblins was an awful idea. It would be an onerous and time-consuming affair, and Timmy was glad they’d kept some of the poison gas in reserve. If the goblins refused to come out, they could use the poison gas to drive them out into the open.
More troubling was the city centre. The goblin leadership had managed to retreat there, and they had fortified it after finding some way to deal with the gas. They still had a force numbering thousands at their command, albeit only a fraction of what they had once had. The toughest fighting would be there. It would not be a regular pitched battle. The goblin leadership was too cunning for that. Instead, they would have to go street by street, house by house, possibly even room by room to drive the goblins out. They could try to starve the goblins out or cut off their air, but that could take time – time they might not have if more goblins were on the move. He didn’t think there could be that many more, at least not close enough to help the goblins here, but he’d rather deal with this lot quickly. The sooner the goblins were gone, the sooner the dwarves could refortify the city.
Somehow, though, he got the feeling the king wouldn’t mind if it all boiled down to close combat. No. He had a feeling that Barin couldn’t wait to introduce more goblins to the business end of his axe.
* * *
Gerald tried not to scream as he tripped over another pile of goblin corpses. It was really quite frightening. Oh, he’d seen dead goblins before – and he’d seen plenty yesterday – since they were a constant menace in some areas due to how quickly they bred and their tendency to grow increasingly bold and vicious over time. He’d once been asked to visit a village that had managed to repel some goblins to assess the extent of the damage and how much of a threat the goblins posed. After seeing goblin corpses piled against the walls, his message had been uncharacteristically brief and to the point: send soldiers and mages now. Even the battle from yesterday paled before the scope of this… this massacre. At least, the lights the dwarves used to illuminate their cities were still working. He couldn’t imagine how horrible it would be to have to stumble around this place in the dark. From what the king had told them, the dwarves used the magic that flowed through the mountain to power the crystals and other devices that kept the city well lit. It would take at least a few months before they broke down due to lack of maintenance.
The overwhelming majority of the goblins had clearly fallen prey to the gas, which had now dispersed. It left their faces twisted into masks of agony as they clawed at their mouths, noses, and throats. It was mildly terrifying to connect Katie’s joy at finding tropical spike fish back in the Shimmering Isles to the carnage around him. Her idea of a specialised poison had been horrifying to hear about, but to see it in action was far worse. It was easy to forget that Katie was not a regular child. She was an apprentice to a Grand Necromancer, and a necromancer of considerable skill in her own right. He paused. Was it strange that he still wasn’t scared of her or Timmy despite seeing what they could do? Sure, some of the things they did terrified him, but he wasn’t terrified of them. For all of their faults, Gerald was convinced that Timmy and Katie were good people. How many times had they saved his life? And it wasn’t like they were wiping the goblins out for fun. They had a job to do here, and the dwarves needed all of the help they could get.
“Feeling queasy, paper pusher?” Avraniel taunted.
He gulped. “More than a little, yes.”
The elf laughed as Spot nibbled on a goblin only to toss it aside in disgust. “Spot, stop wasting your time. You’ll have more luck finding a goblin made of gold than one that tastes nice.”
The dragon huffed and went back to sniffing at the downed goblins until Chomp nudged him forward. The three-headed dog had come along since he had a knack for finding hidden passageways and detecting traps and ambushes.
Avraniel glanced back at Gerald and prodded a nearby goblin with her boot. “Don’t waste any tears on them. These little bastards got what they deserved. You can’t break into someone’s city, kill most of the people in it, and then complain when someone else wipes you out. Live by the sword – die by the sword.” She mimed a stabbing motion. “Believe me, every single one of these jerks would have stabbed you the first chance they got. People have tried negotiating with goblins before. There are a few reasonable groups, but most of them are like this bunch here, and this is the only way to deal with them. You can’t trust them, you can’t negotiate with them, and you definitely can’t reason with them.” She moved in front of him as a goblin, somehow still alive, drew a rusty knife and leapt at him.
“Ah!” Gerald wailed as he summoned his frying pan, but there was no need for him to swing it.
Avraniel caught the goblin across the chin with the heel of her boot. Her kick almost decapitated the goblin, and the force of the blow hurled it into a nearby pillar with bone-crushing force. “With goblins like this, paper pusher, the only smart thing do is to kill them all.”
“Thank you.” Gerald eyed the goblin warily. Unless it could somehow survive near decapitation and a shattered spine, the goblin was definitely dead. “I think it’s dead now.” He moved closer to Chomp and beckoned some of the ninja rats over. One of the rodents hopped onto his shoulder, and Gerald immediately felt safer.
“You would have gotten him.” Avraniel chuckled. “I wouldn’t use a frying pan as a weapon, but it’s better than nothing. At least you had the guts to pull out a weapon while screaming instead of just screaming. It’s not much, but it is progress.” She sneered at the dead goblin. “If you have to fight them, always make sure they’re really dead. They like faking it, and they’re good at putting a knife in your back.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Gerald replied. As for his ‘progress’, that was mostly out of necessity. Years ago, Gerald would have just screamed his head off, but their missions had made it abundantly clear to him that simply screaming was not going to solve most of his problems. If anything, it would only attract more trouble. He had to be ready – and willing – to whack things over the head with sturdy pieces of metal if he wanted to survive. It wasn’t pleasant, but it was necessary. Still, he shouldn’t have been so worried. Even if Avraniel hadn’t acted, the ninja rats, Spot, and Chomp had all been close enough to intervene if necessary. He was about to ask the elf how many more living goblins they were likely to encounter when a boom echoed out from deeper in the city. The dwarves around them all paused.
“Hey, twerp,” Avraniel shouted. “What the hell was that?”
“We’re sending zombie pigeons with explosives on them at the goblins in the city centre.” Gerald winced. That was another one of Timmy’s schemes that terrified him. Having seen what Timmy could do with the
birds had left Gerald unable to look at pigeons in the same light as before. The last time he’d seen a normal one, he’d almost screamed since he’d been convinced it was about to explode. “We want them tired, stressed, and paranoid when we finally attack. I doubt they’ve slept a wink since we started pouring poisonous gas into the city. Attacking them on a semi-regular basis makes sure they don’t get any rest. In the meantime, we can clear out the rest of the city. My master and King Barin both agree it would be a bad idea to leave any goblins at our backs when we attack the city centre.”
“They’re sneaky losers,” Avraniel muttered. “The less we have to worry about them stabbing us in the back, the better.” She spotted movement in a nearby pile of goblins and flicked her wrist. If any of them were still alive, they certainly wouldn’t be after being turned into an impromptu bonfire.
“A wise idea.” Old Man eyed the devastation around them with a combination of appreciation and dismay. “Goblins are at their deadliest when they can either swarm you or ambush you. In a normal fight, they are generally outclassed although there are some goblins strong enough to pose a genuine threat.”
“Really?” Gerald squeaked. “What do you mean?”
“Oh, yeah,” Avraniel said, unaware of how much her next words were going to exacerbate his anxiety. “You probably didn’t notice since you weren’t at the frontlines when the goblins were attacking Cavernholme, and we’d already killed most of the tougher ones by the time it was safe for you to wander around.” She reached down and picked up a goblin. “See this? He’s your typical goblin. He’s about the height of a dwarf but much slimmer. He’s also much weaker than a dwarf but pretty quick and agile. I’d say he’s about as strong as a human teenager, maybe a bit less, but dumb as a box of rocks. However, once you’ve got enough goblins in one place, you start seeing bigger and smarter ones.” She looked around and then pointed. “See that guy?” Gerald nodded. “He’s a bit taller than your average dwarf, and he’s a lot heavier than that other goblin. He was probably in charge around here. He wouldn’t have been super smart or anything, but he would have been smarter than the rest of them.” Her lips curled. “I don’t know if we’ll see one, but there are goblins that can give even dwarf heroes a run for their money. They’re big, strong, and cunning. Of course, that won’t matter much. I can just set this whole damn place on fire, and the idiot is more cunning than any goblin. Just keep your eyes open, paper pusher. If you see any weird-looking goblins, say something. I’ll kill them and save us all some trouble down the line.” She grinned. “Goblins might be dumb, but they understand revenge. That’s why you make sure you kill them all.”
Gerald gulped and nodded. However, as worrying as it was to know that there were other, scarier, varieties of goblins around, some of her words had been reassuring. With the group they had, he had a hard time believing the goblins could overpower them, and he doubted they’d be able to outwit them either. “Okay. I’ll let you know right away.”
I wonder if the other kinds taste better? Spot licked his lips. Tell me first. I want to try.
“Uh… sure.” Gerald had absolutely no problems with letting Spot handle any goblins they encountered. The less he had to use his frying pan, the better.
They continued for a while longer, passing more dead goblins, until Avraniel motioned for them to stop. “Look sharp, paper pusher. We’re about to reach one of the holdouts.” At her side, Chomp gave a low growl. “Yeah, there are definitely some of those bastards around here.”
Gerald gulped and peered around. The corridor ahead of them was full of dead goblins, but there were several barricaded doors and plenty of rubble scattered around too. He wasn’t an expert, but it looked like there were plenty of places to hide. “What do we do?”
“If we go down the corridor,” Old Man murmured with a small smile. “They will definitely ambush us, which is why Spot and I will go in first.”
“Why you two?”
“Spot is likely impervious to any magic or weapons they have, and as fond as goblins are of poison, they’re not going to have anything that can affect him. As for me, I look like an easy target.” Old Man chuckled self-deprecatingly. “And goblins can rarely resist easy targets. If things get out of hand, I can always use my magic to retreat while Avraniel and Spot set the corridor ablaze.”
“That sounds reasonable.” Gerald took a few steps back. “I’ll stay back here to, you know, keep watch. Good luck.”
Old Man and Spot strolled forward, and it wasn’t long before goblins emerged from the rubble and barricaded doors. Had Gerald been in the older man’s position, he would have immediately turned tail and run for it. However, Old Man simply got to work. He cut two goblins down with his first strike before leaning away from the attacks of another and striking down three more of the green-skinned creatures in quick succession. A goblin lunged at him from his blind spot, but Old Man sensed the attack coming. He took a step forward to make the goblin’s attack miss before he drove his sword back to pierce the goblin’s skull. At his side, Spot had eschewed his flame in favour of his claws and teeth. Gerald had seen Spot eat swords and armour before. He kept some with him at all times for exactly that purpose since the dragon occasionally wanted a nice metal snack to tide him over between battles. The bone, leather, and cloth that the goblins favoured for armour did nothing whatsoever against the dragon.
A goblin leapt at Spot’s back, and the dragon batted it aside with his wings. The force of the blow threw the goblin into the wall with a loud crunch. More goblins appeared, and Spot hurled himself forward like a scaly arrow. The goblins scattered and tried to flee, but the dwarves who’d accompanied them had already cut off the other end of the corridor. With the same ruthless efficiency they’d displayed yesterday, the dwarves cut down the remaining goblins. Breaking into smaller groups, they began to check each of the rooms along the corridor.
“Hmm…” Old Man peeked into one room while Spot checked another. “It seems as though this area is clear, but we should stay alert. There may be hidden passages, and goblins are small enough to hide almost anywhere.” He eyed the piles of debris nearby. “Some of them might have been smart enough to stay hidden after seeing us deal with the others so easily.”
“Stay in the middle, paper pusher.” Avraniel tugged Gerald forward. “And don’t fall behind. Goblins are great at picking off stragglers.”
Gerald quickened his pace. Beside him, Chomp stopped and barked at a patch of the wall. He must have found a hidden passageway. The dwarves would have to check it before they could move on. Sure enough, the dwarves were able to open the wall to reveal another dozen goblins that had been planning to ambush them.
“How convenient,” Avraniel sneered as she eyed the goblins huddled in the small room. “You’re all in one place.” The goblins lunged forward, but she snapped her fingers, and fire and screaming filled the room. “It makes it so much easier to get rid of you.” She reached over to ruffle Chomp’s fur. “Good work, Chomp.”
“Aye,” one of the dwarves agreed. “What I wouldn’t give for more labyrinth hounds. They have a fine nose for traps and ambushes. Will you be studding him?”
“I think I might,” Avraniel said. “I’ll have to talk to that king of yours about it.”
Spot bounded over. Does that mean we’ll have puppies? They can call me Uncle Spot!
Gerald tried to imagine what a smaller, cuddlier version of Chomp would look like. To his surprise, the thought of a three-headed puppy was actually rather endearing. Wait. Were labyrinth hounds born with three heads, or did they grow extra heads as they got older? He’d have to asked Amanda about it.
“All right,” Avraniel said. “Enough chitchat. We’ve got goblins to kill. Let’s get moving.”
They dealt with the next two holdouts easily enough before Timmy signalled for them to pause at the third.
“I don’t suppose you have any caltrops, do you?” Timmy asked. “The goblins are getting a bit cleverer. It’s becoming harder to lure them o
ut.” It was true. The goblins were growing more and more reluctant to emerge, but it was far safer to draw them out into the open than to pursue them into corridors or rooms they were likely to have booby-trapped.
“I have plenty,” Gerald replied. “What do you want me to do with them?”
Timmy gestured for Chomp to come closer and then pointed to where the dog had been. “Put them there.”
“There? But I thought the holdout was over there?” Gerald pointed further down the corridor to where several piles of debris had narrowed the corridor to a very tight squeeze indeed.
“Chomp is acting like there might be a hidden passage behind us. I asked one of the dwarves, and he agrees there might be one around here. We’re going to send some of the dwarves in to lure out the goblins. We’re going to let them think that they can ambush us while we’re ambushing them when in fact, their counter-ambush is going to run right into your caltrops.”
“So they think they know what we’re going to do, but we know that they think they know what we’re going to do?” Gerald looked about furtively. Outside, the shadows hadn’t seemed so menacing. In here, with goblins potentially hiding behind every piece of rubble, he was careful to keep as far from any potential hiding places as he could. “I won’t have to kill any of them, will I?”
Timmy patted him on the back sympathetically. “If everything goes to plan, you won’t. Stay back here with Chomp and some of the dwarves. Yell if you notice any goblins that we missed.”
Everything went almost exactly as Timmy had hoped. As the dwarves walked down the passageway and began to attack the barricade, a group of goblins emerged from the rubble around them to attack. The dwarves immediately turned to deal with the goblins as a hidden passageway further down the corridor opened up to allow more goblins to attack the dwarves from the rear – only for them to run right into the caltrops. Unlike the dwarves who went into battle in iron-shod boots, the goblins were barefooted. The result was a great deal of pain, which only got worse as Timmy and some other dwarves appeared to cut off their retreat. In a matter of minutes, all of the goblins were dead. Amongst them was a slightly larger and bulkier goblin.
Two Necromancers, a Dwarf Kingdom, and a Sky City Page 41
