The Goblin Wars Part One Read online

  Vibrations from their footfalls caused chunks of rotting moss and other unidentifiable and fetid objects to fall from the crusted top of the sewer tunnels and onto the goblins as they moved. Eventually, Gravlox and Vorst came to a larger intersection of tunnels and sewers beneath the city.

  The small, glowing cantrip guided the two goblins to a cramped passage that angled steeply downward. Without hesitation, Vorst jumped into the sewer tunnel and slid down the slick moss with Gravlox not far behind. Had the two goblins waited a moment between sliding, they wouldn’t have collided so painfully at the bottom of the passage. Vorst’s face was contorted against a set of three iron bars at the end of the slanted sewer. When her male companion slammed directly into her back, Vorst’s contorted face became a clear image of pain and regret.

  Master Brenning heard the clumsy creatures smack into the iron bars right next to his head. He recognized the screeching qualities in the two voices and knew that his visitors were not human. Mustering all the strength he could, Brenning got to his feet and brushed the dirt from his clothes.

  “What in Vrysinoch’s name?” Master Brenning jumped back a step when he noticed the incorporeal eagle casually gliding above his head. His sleep had denied him the frightful occasion of seeing the eagle enter the room.

  The burly smith drew his sword and snarled. He had just enough light from the glow of the magical bird to tell that it was a pair of goblins who had found his sewer prison. “Have at me, then!” He yelled, slapping the flat of his blade against his hairy chest to summon his courage.

  Within seconds, the stone around the edges of the iron bars exploded into a flurry of dirt and grime. Two tangled goblins dropped to the floor of the chamber right behind the loud iron bars. Fortunately for the goblins, the older man was too stunned from the blast to react with his sword before Gravlox and Vorst were on their feet.

  “Friends,” Vorst said, patting her hands in the air to calm Master Brenning. The softly glowing eagle landed on the smith’s shoulder, pecked his face once with its ghostly beak, and dissipated in a burst of light that seemed to attach itself to the moss and continued to glow. Something about the peacefulness of the flitting bird eased the smith’s mind and calmed his blood. He lowered the sword but did not sheath it.

  “Both friends,” she repeated and took another step closer. “Human with us. Work with humans.” Her choppy command of the human language was unusual for a goblin and brought more questions than answers to the blacksmith.

  Master Brenning’s eyes kept darting back and forth from the goblin pair to the exploded sewer tunnel in the wall. It was hard to tell which surprised him more.

  “Shaman,” the amused female goblin stated as she patted Gravlox on the back. Brenning’s face went pale in the darkness because he knew that attempting to defend himself would be fruitless. He sheathed his sword and took a confident step towards the goblins. Gravlox and Vorst had no idea what to make of the smith’s outstretched hand so they simply let it hang awkwardly in the air.

  After painfully slow introductions had been made, the three beings in the bottom of the sewer containment area sat down. The tunnel that Gravlox and Vorst had come down was far too narrow to allow the broad-shouldered smith to squeeze through. The walls of the circular chamber were far too smooth to attempt a climb and the smith had been trapped underground for days. He needed food and clean water. The man wasn’t on the verge of death, but the sooner he was out of the dim underground, the better.

  “Well,” Gravlox asked. “How do we get out?”

  ***

  THE FIRST GOBLIN wave came from the north, just as expected. About a hundred screaming goblins came rushing from the grass line waving weapons above their heads. The century stationed on the northern flank dug their heels in and waited for the charge to meet them. An alaris was stationed to the side of the century, ready to cut a diagonal swath of death through the measly charge.

  “It must be a feint,” Herod said to Apollonius from atop his warhorse. “Even if all of our soldiers were stationed inside the walls, not a single one of those filthy goblins would breach.” Apollonius shook his head and looked to the east, expecting a second charge to compliment the first.

  The goblins were halfway from the grass line to Terror’s Lament when the alaris met their charge. Thundering hooves blasted through the weak charge. Goblin blood and bones flew through the air as dozens of the mindless drones were killed. As soon as the alaris had passed through the charge, a hail of arrows and crossbow bolts showered down upon what remained of the first attack. None of the first one hundred goblins ever made it to the steel clad soldiers of the century positioned on the north side of Talonrend.

  Silence shrouded the bloody battlefield. The alaris trotted slowly back into place at the right flank of the century and waited for a second charge. The human army had survived the first minutes of war without a casualty. In their eagerness, the militia stationed atop Terror’s Lament had fired nearly a dozen missiles for every target. Had they known how many goblins would face them that day, the soldiers would have thought twice about firing too many arrows.

  Waiting for the next attack, the army was on edge. After an hour of standing in the bright sunlight, the soldiers were losing their focus. More and more of the militia on the walls lost the edge that adrenaline had given them. They sat down against the parapet and took off their roughshod helmets and hats. The sun was relentless.

  Another hour of silence passed before Herod decided to act. “The alaris stationed on the southern flank, bring them up, Apollonius.” The prince turned his warhorse toward the east and trotted out away from the wall. The eager soldier was riding a warhorse of his own taken from the prince’s personal stables. The beast reared under his legs and took off.

  In just a few minutes, twenty-six mounted riders trotted up to the prince and saluted. “Good,” Herod said as he met their approach. “I want you to execute a sortie. We know the goblins are camped out to the north. They sent a fifth of their number against us but even they aren’t stupid enough to waste so many soldiers.”

  “Sir, with all due respect, why not?” The leader of the alaris wore a helmet fashioned with a large metal spike to designate his leadership and make him easier to spot. Curiously, the man also wore a set of throwing axes on his side like Gideon had.

  “Why not?” Herod asked with venom in his voice. He had no patience for sarcasm.

  “Why must the goblins be smarter than that? They send a bunch of goblins, wave after wave until they are all dead.” The alaris captain used a mailed hand to shade his eyes from the sun.

  “We can’t afford to believe that, captain, even if it proves to be true. I am responsible for all of the lives here today. That includes the humans and the goblins. I want the goblins to die. If they will not come to us, we must go to them.” Prince Herod indicated toward the man’s throwing axes with a nod.

  The alaris captain smiled and handed an axe to the prince. The handle was well worn and wrapped in supple leather strips. Curiously, the blade of the weapon was unscathed and pristine. “Throwing axes are not a very common sight in my army. I’ve seen things like these before. Actually, I’ve been attacked by very similar axes by a man named Gideon. Know him?” The prince handed the axe back to its owner.

  “Gideon…. Yeah, I used to know him. We worked at the same armory together. We get to make these axes after we’ve been there for a few years.” He tossed the weapon into the air and flipped it around before catching it again in his other hand.

  “You have never used that axe. Have you ever been in a life or death situation, captain?”

  “Just when I come home late to my wife,” the man said with a chuckle.

  “Perfect.” Herod managed a grin despite the captain’s relaxed attitude. “Go scout the goblin position. Kill as many of them as you can but don’t risk your men. Figure out where they are hiding and how many more have joined their ranks. Then come back and report to me.”

  “Of course, my liege,” t
he captain said with a stiff salute before he led his men away to the north.

  Prince Herod watched his well-organized cavalry kick a cloud of dust into the air as they departed. “Where are the paladins? Where is Gideon?” The prince didn’t dare let anyone near him catch a word of what he was saying. As far as the army knew, the paladins had been ordered to stay within the city walls and protect the people should a breach occur. In reality, the prince hadn’t seen anyone from the Tower of Wings since he openly denied Vrysinoch. The paladins, assuming they still remained within the city, were cowering inside their tower. Herod only hoped that if the holy warriors were needed to fight back the gathering enemies, they would be ready and willing to do so.

  YAEL AND KEEGAR crouched on the top of a slanted, thatched roof and watched the alaris gallop past. The solitary farm house was one of the few structures on the plain between Talonrend and the villages along the Clawflow. “Lady Scrapple!” Yael screamed at the younger Keegar. He knew that even though the hive mind was ignoring his consciousness, she could still be reached. “Lady Scrapple!” he yelled again into the frightened goblin’s face. “They are sending heavy cavalry to the blocks positioned in the north! Those goblins need to get into anti-cavalry formations now!” Yael shook Keegar’s body forcefully and knew by the mist in his eyes that Lady Scrapple had heard him.

  The goblin blocks crouched in the high grasses moved immediately. They crawled along their bellies toward the incoming alaris and fanned out in a circular pattern. Just as expected, the human riders galloped onto the prepared battlefield. It took them a moment to realize they were surrounded. The captain clenched his hand into a fist in the air which ordered the riders to halt. The well prepared goblins never gave them a chance. A hundred diminutive drones swarmed the alaris with long spears that shined in the sunlight. Before the captain could even draw his sword, a spear head lodged itself under his horse’s chin and sent the beast sprawling to the ground.

  Two more spears bit into the horse’s flank and silenced the animal’s screams in a burst of blood. The alaris captain scrambled to his feet and tried to remove the blade at his side from its scabbard but it wouldn’t budge. The horse’s fall had bent the blade and locked it into the sheath.

  A trio of goblins rushed the captain with spears and caused him to roll to his side to avoid being skewered. His armor was strong and the one spear head that did connect with his breastplate was easily deflected. Frustrated, the captain ripped the sheathed sword from his side and threw it at the nearest goblin which caused the beast to flinch. A throwing axe followed the sheathed blade and thudded into the goblin’s lightly armored chest. The other two pale-skinned creatures pressing the alaris captain didn’t notice their comrade’s death. They poked and prodded with their longer weapons until the captain was pinned against his fallen horse’s bloody corpse.

  With a steel-bladed axe in his hand, the captain slashed side to side across his body to keep the deadly spear heads from finding their mark. The poorly constructed weapons splintered within moments so the two goblins threw the wooden shafts against the captain’s armor and charged. With no room to dodge in the wicked melee, the alaris captain met the rush with his arms out wide and caught each goblin under the chin. Their pale skin crinkled and writhed as the muscular soldier hoisted the attackers off their feet. Holding the goblins at arm’s length nearly three feet above the ground, the captain was defenseless against the third attacker he had knocked back with his thrown sword. No grin widened on the face of the ugly creature and it didn’t let out a howl of victory. A blank stare bore into the alaris captain as he struggled to keep the flailing goblins tight in his clutches.

  The free goblin picked up a stone and heaved it at the soldier, knocking a small dent in the man’s strong armor. A broken spear shaft followed the rock but sank into the back of the goblin in the captain’s right hand. The soldier banged the heads of his captives together with such force that both the creatures fell limp in his grasp. With a shield made of goblin flesh before him, the captain ran with all his strength at the third assailant and trampled the poor beast to the ground. Heavy steel boots crushed the soft goblin flesh and sent bits of bone flying among the grasses. Disgusted, the captain tossed aside the two dead goblins like chaff and drew another axe from his side.

  Another line of goblins was nearly upon him by the time he loosed the missile. More goblins than the soldier had ever seen poured over him in a heartbeat. His thick armor was well built and prevented him from being quickly stomped into human mush but the immense weight of the armor made it impossible for the man to regain his feet. For a brief moment, the captain could see the sparse strands of wispy clouds that layered the sky. Soon, however, an ugly goblin face filled his vision, biting and spitting to chew at his face. The pile of goblins grew by the second as more of the stinking creatures leapt atop the fallen captain. Finally, after what felt like hours of being slowly crushed under all of that squirming weight, the captain succumbed to suffocation and died.

  Yael and Keegar watched from a distance as the entire human cavalry unit disappeared into the maw of the waiting goblin ambush. “Her will must be getting weaker, Keegar,” the pale-skinned leader remarked.

  “Who is getting weaker?” Keegar wondered, still not comprehending Yael’s discovery.

  Yael backhanded his assistant out of frustration. It was a blow he truly wanted to deliver to Lady Scrapple herself. “The Mistress of the Mountain, Keegar. She is growing weaker every day trying to control so many goblins. We are too far from the mountain for her to fully control us. We are free out here, don’t you feel it?”

  The confused expression that followed showed Yael that Keegar did not fully understand his newly acquired mental freedom. “What did you do before you left the mountain for this campaign?” Yael asked, trying to make him think for the first time in his life.

  “Back home? I lived with the soldiers and trained with them every day.” Keegar scratched his wrinkled head as his tiny goblin brain worked furiously behind his beady eyes.

  “What sorts of skills did you train?” the commander asked to lead his thinking in the right direction. Yael, as a high ranking member of the military, knew well the daily training regimens of the soldiers. The mindless drones rarely ever practiced anything but group attacks with spears or swords. A few goblins, those with more autonomy, were trained for specialized tasks such as scouting or stealth infiltration.

  “I ran, I guess.” Keegar was unsure of himself. He had never consciously experienced mental freedom before and the sensation was hitting him like a flood. “Every day I would train with the other goblins using my sword, and then I would run. Sometimes I would get to use a bow, but I was never very good at it.”

  Yael nodded. “How long would you run?” The wise goblin noted the thick leg muscles and dexterous frame of his companion with appreciation. It was obvious that Keegar had done nothing but athletic training for his entire life.

  “I ran for as long as I had to…” His voice trailed off and his ugly features twisted into an expression of curiosity.

  “Did you ever want to run, Keegar?” The commander smiled and knew he had succeeded.

  “I…” Jagged teeth broke through the goblin’s wide grin and he jumped up and down with excitement. “I always ran because I didn’t know what else to do.”

  “Yes, you were being trained as a scout, Keegar! You were running so that one day, you could run faster than any of the other goblins and make reports. Lady Scrapple made you learn to shoot a bow so you could defend yourself while out alone. Scouts are the most valuable part of any army and the information you carried was worth more than your life. Our mother knew that if you were sent too far away, she wouldn’t be able to control you and so you had to be fast enough to make it back alive.”

  Keegar jumped off the farmhouse roof and landed in a perfectly balanced roll. He began to run circles around the dilapidated building. “I want to run now!” he shouted back to Yael with glee.

  “Lady Sc
rapple knew that there was a possibility that she could lose control…” Yael whispered under his breath. “She knew….” Looking over his shoulder at the dark silhouette of the massive mountain, Yael couldn’t help but wonder what that meant. “If she knew, why would she send so many of us? What is so important about this human city that she would risk losing her control?” Yael climbed slowly down from the rooftop to join the elated scout in his celebration of freedom.

  With the alaris thoroughly destroyed, the battlefield was quiet again. The towering walls of Talonrend reached to the bright summer sky to the west. Behind the goblin pair, Kanebullar Mountain loomed like the mighty shadow of a god poised to fly from the stars.

  ***

  STALE WATER TRICKLED down from somewhere above and played beautifully in the reflecting light of the magically luminescent moss. All around them, soft colors darted about like a torch tossed into a room full of gemstones. “Can the shaman get us out?” Master Brenning asked. He pointed to Gravlox and then pointed up to the dripping water overhead. “Grav… lox?” The man tried to pronounce the name the best he could but the high-pitched goblin language was far too complex for the smith to control. The foreign word came out as a bit of an embarrassing squeal that left his cheeks flushed.

  Gravlox and Vorst both laughed at the attempt and tried to imitate the unusual sound. The barrel-chested smith’s strained falsetto was still much deeper than any sounds the goblins knew how to make. “Gravlox,” the foreman repeated, pointing to his chest and smiling. Vorst tapped a translation of Brenning’s question against the stone.

  The shaman didn’t know what to do. He wasn’t familiar enough with his innate magical abilities to command the energy much beyond short bursts like the one that had destroyed the small tunnel opening in the sewer wall. “I can try,” Gravlox said, more to himself than anyone else.