Goblins?

  Goblins earn a reputation for their small size, temperamental and tribalistic nature. They attack caravans, unsuspecting wanderers, and, if they grow in numbers, even entire villages with brutal force. They don’t attack a walled town.

  Reegar looked up and saw another flaming rock flew past him, hitting another building.

  And they certainly can’t do that.

  Those adventurers near the wall share the same perspective as he is. They argue, some climb to verify.

  “It’s true. Goblins are attacking.” One of them shouted, followed by another.

  As the bickering worsened, a deafening roar reverberated through the air. A weathered orc emerged, donned in a tabard of vibrant yellow and green, adorned with the emblem of antlers atop his chain mail. He secures a battle axe to his belt, feeling its weight against his hips. Secured by a belt wrapped around the knee, a wooden peg served as the lower part of his left leg. The scent of burned hair lingered in the air as fire left its mark on his gray hair and beard. His eyes glanced at the adventurers’, and a heavy silence settled in the air.

  “Glauk, you old one legged bastard. What took you?” Aveline waves gleefully at the orc.

  The orc looked at her, surprised at seeing Aveline. His eyes noticed the sheets of papers on her hands. “Profiting on our tragedy. Bards.”

  “Nice seeing you too.” she smirked and tapped Reegar by the shoulder. “Your savior has arrived.”

  Glauk glanced at the paladin before shifting his gaze to the watchtower. “Sergeant, report.”

  “Goblins, captain. Scores of them. I believe they’re using catapults, but none in sight, sir. But it came from the forest—” before the guard could finish her report, a flaming rock hits the tower, destroying it. Another flaming rock hits the wall, and the wooden wall creaks. Glauk’s eyes widened as he saw the watchtower crumble, followed by the scream of his men. His fist shakes and shivers as he looks at the wall. It cracked again as another flaming rock hit it. Ten years he served, and Nagannum rarely sent anything out. He got complacent. He sat on his hands and never checked the forest. His fault.

  Reegar is unsure about the durability of the wall and whether it can withstand the attack. Though he senses magic in the walls’ fortification, he knows they are not indestructible. Everything has its limits. Like the tower. The guard’s voice echoes, repeating the words in his mind. It came from the forest; she said. He saw glimpses of the forest. The canopy is thick. Hiding behind the canopies makes it impossible to shoot catapults with that range and power. And yet they face bombardment. Probably they just chucked the rocks in a general direction and hoped it hit something.

  Reegar’s footsteps echoed as he approached the old orc, and with a hint of intrigue, “What is the plan, captain? The town couldn’t endure more of it.”

  Before Glauk could answer, a voice shouted at them from above. “Those are not catapults.”

  The sound of a feminine voice caught their attention, and their eyes followed the source, an adventurer still on the wall.

  “Those aren’t catapults.” She repeated herself. “Those are goblins. Big ones.” And she pointed towards the forest.

  Glauk and Reegar looked at each other, confused by the guard’s wording. Big and goblin aren’t the words associated with each other. Still, they ran up the stairs, followed by Aveline and Clara.

  They saw a horde of green skin humanoids, wearing armors that seem to be made with leathers and teeth, each carrying a crude weapon on their hands. Behind them are three enormous creatures coming out of the forest. These creatures are around ten feet tall and each carrying a basket on their backs. And they look like goblins. Green skin and everything. But larger.

  “Could it be ogres? Aveline questioned, her gaze shifting between the group and those behind the wall.

  “Ogres will crush any goblins attempting to command them.” Reegar shuts down the notion. He looks at the horde and he feels something is off. They look like goblins, but don’t feel like it. Then he realized something. There are no war drums, no war horns. No screaming, shouting, yapping, or bashing their weapons to their shield. They just march. Even the armors look the same.

  “Those aren’t normal goblins.” Reegar grumbled. “There is no individuality, no personal markings on their armor. No war horns. No war drums. They didn’t even yell profanities. I’m insulted.”

  The group turns their attention to the horde. Glauk took a deep breath and exhaled. “Does that change anything?”

  “Well, there’s a chance of mind control or illusion. Chances are, someone or something is behind this attack.” Reegar answered and noticed a flaming rock was flying towards them.

  He drew his sword and muttered a prayer. “Guide my hand so it will not tremble. Guide my heart so it will not falter. I’ll defy the darkness, the damned and the dread.” Red aura with small black spheres enveloped his blade. “Glory to the unbroken.” he roared as he kneel and slammed his blade into the ground. A shield made of red light appeared before him and the shield grew and covered the section of the wall. He lifted his head and watched as the flaming rock smashed into his shield, shattering it. The impact created a shockwave that knocked everyone off the wall. The rock landed near the wall, inches away.

  Reegar fell to the ground, and the impact sent him tumbling back. He stared at the sky as the pain creeped in. He let out a groan and pushed himself up.

  Well, at least the wall stands.

  He looked at the wall and noticed a large crack formed on it.

  At least it still stands.

  He noticed Glauk was gathering his guards and the adventurers. “We’re going to cut through the goblins and make them wish they would never wake up this morning.”

  The adventurers looked at each other until Glauk held a temne on his finger. “One coin for each goblin head. Five for the big ones.”

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  The adventurers roar as they hear the bounty. Glauk gave a sly smile and pulled Reegar up to his feet. “Are you ready, Erisian?”

  “Fighting in the cold, while snow fell. Why not?”

  Aveline stood behind the front liners, playing her lute. The soft blue light emanating from her strings added an otherworldly ambiance to her performance. Her fingers glide across the strings, each note resonating with the depth of her emotions. The music began with a tempo that resonated with fear, but as she played, it transformed into a more hopeful tune, as if she was using her music to empower those around her and fuel her own determination.

  Reegar looks at his hands and his arms. His body is lighter and his mind is clearer, as the will to win pushed his fear aside. From the looks of everyone else, it’s not only him.

  This girl knew how to inspire others. Bards gained power and inspiration either through learning new music, tales, or sometimes humor or tragedy. But that is a shallow explanation. Just as wizards gain power by studying mana and the formula of magic. Just like clerics and paladins tapped into the power of their faith, bards gained power and magic from their heart and soul. She listens to her heart and expresses it using echoes of mana, transforming it into her music. Conveying her feelings into a tune or a phrase. Strengthening the hearts and valor to those she deem friendly.

  Reegar observed the adventurers and guards, their gaze filled with anticipation. He regulates his breath, and he holds his blade up to his face. “Our Lady of Steel. Look upon Your faithful as he stood, proud and defiant. Grant me the righteous fury to smite my enemies. For every cut is Your Wrath. For every kill is in Your Name.” Wisps of red aura surrounded him, with a few black orbs orbiting randomly around him.

  Glauk gave the order to open the gate. As the gate opened; Reegar rushes headlong into the goblin horde. He swung his blade to the first goblin he saw, decapitating the green pest, and moved to the next.

  Reegar skewered a leaping goblin, and another appeared beneath it, plunging its weapon into his chest. His armor took the strike, but he can still feel the sharpness of its archaic weapon pressing against him. He slammed his pommel onto the goblin’s head, a bone cracking sound confirmed the kill. With a mix of faith, fury and defiance, he keeps on wielding his sword, dispatching many goblins, their black blood showering over him. A smile appeared as he saw the mangle bodies of the goblins. Their death invigorates him.

  The goblin horde seemed to multiply with every goblin killed, an endless tide of foes. The goblins use their small stature to climb upon one another or to slip beneath to strike their opponents, trying to overwhelm them with numbers.

  Several adventurers fell to the goblin swarm, but they still keep pressing on, swinging their weapons in the name of gold and survival.

  Claire vaults over the wall, and she slammed her pitchfork to the horde. A green sphere, with the symbol of Dhavani, surrounds her and it explodes into a thousand shards. Both healing her allies and damaging her foes.

  A few mages climbed up the ramp and began battering the horde with their magic. One of the mage’s hands glow red, and she clasps them and the glow turns fire. She uttered a single word as she pushed her palm forward.

  “Fireball.”

  A ball of fire shoots from her palms and races towards the horde. An explosion rocks the ground when the fire makes contact. The smell of burning flesh permeates, but there is no scream.

  Silence.

  There are no sounds of goblins screaming and writhing in pain. Not even a groan. They just continue their assault or fall to the ground.

  It is unnerving. Wrong. Even zombies have some reaction when attacked. This created confusion among the defenders. Panic sets in. Reegar knew he must act, or the horde would overrun them.

  The paladin let out a roar and raised his sword high. His blade glows in red, with small black orbs surrounding it. “Falter not sons and daughters of Crestwood. If they know no fear, then it is our solemn duty to teach them. In Her Name, we shall make a road out of their bodies. For the Lady of Steel fights with us today.”

  The defenders roared in response to the paladin’s words. The mages continued to shoot and hurled magical and elemental blasts at the goblins as the fighters pushed through. Goblins flesh and blood caked their weapons, dulling them and yet they push forward. A beacon is among them. He rages with the fury of war as he cleaves through the goblins with brutal efficiency. A terrifying sight, red aura, enveloped him as if the blood of the enemy empowered him.

  A roaring sound came from the back of the horde as the large goblins rushed forward. They carry clubs, no. Not clubs. More like tree trunks on their hand as they proceed towards the town.

  Glauk’s eyes widened at seeing the incoming goblin. “By Selene glowing tits.” he cursed.

  Reegar’s roar echoed through the air, urging his fellow adventurers to push through. The red aura burst brighter with black orbs bubbling out, a dazzling display of his wrath. Their larger cousins thundered towards the town, leaving a trail of crushed goblins in their wake.

  One of them faces Reegar, its eyes filled with rage as it swings the wooden club at the paladin. Reegar blocks it, taking the full brunt of the attack, feeling the force push him back, but he stands his ground, planting his feet to the ground.

  The clash between Reegar and the large goblin was a savage display of raw power and aggression as both unleashed a flurry of strikes. With a swift motion, the blade sliced through the skin, leaving a trail of blood in its wake. The goblin roared in pain and black blood exited the wound, splattered on Reegar’s armor and a few hit the ground. As the blood hits the ground, it releases a smell. A smell similar to decomposing meat. Reegar ignores it and moves forward, feeling the weight of his blade in his hands as he aims it towards the chest.

  But the large goblin moves faster. It slammed its club into the paladin’s chest, and Reegar winces as his ribs crack under the force, His splintered bones piercing through his inside and he coughed out blood. Reegar’s voice failed him, leaving him with nothing but a whimper. He stumbled back, feeling the warm blood dripping from his mouth.

  But he remembers his oath, his anger. The paladin stood firm, planting his feet on the ground with nothing more than a will or spite. He can’t fall. He is a paladin of Eris, sworn to hunt monsters. And this monster is prey.

  Gritting his teeth, the paladin tightly gripped his weapon. The metallic scent of warm blood lingers in the air as it drips from his nose and mouth. The simple act of breathing becomes excruciating, as he suspects that the broken shards of his ribs are puncturing his lungs. He endures the pain as his divine power courses through veins, healing his internal wounds. His ability doesn’t dampen the pain. Pain reforges the goddess’s paladins, making them smarter, wiser. Pain means you are alive. And if you are alive, you must take a step forward.

  He’s preparing himself for the goblin’s next assault. Black arcs seeped out from between his teeth, while a pair of red orbs flickered to life behind his visor.

  He traced the goblin’s swing and leaped back to avoid the attack and launched himself forward, plunging his blade into the goblin’s chest and pushing the blade upwards, cleaving the torso and the head. With a loud thud, the goblin crashed to the ground.

  The mages unleashed all their powers on the remaining large goblins, while one goblin hurled its wooden club at a well-armed knight who blocked it with a shield as large as he was. The rest of defenders swarmed the large goblin, despite taking losses, they put it down.

  Glauk noticed Aveline, the bard, swaying on her feet, her mana depleting as she poured it into her song. She continued to flick her lute until he placed his hand on her arm. “Rest now young missy. We’ll take care of the rest.”

  Reegar stood on the battlefield, with the terrible stench of rotten flesh permeating around him. His battered body stiffened, and he could feel a burning sensation emanating from his muscles.

  He looked to the right; Claire and Glauk, bloodied and battered, approached him. A friendly smile on his face. The victorious cheer echoed from the gate and soon followed by the survivors of the city. The paladin grunted as he surveyed the gruesome scene at the gate. He raised his sword high as it glowed ever redder, drawing all eyes to him.

  His voice echoed as he proclaimed. “Raise your weapons high defenders of Crestwood, let Her Eyes gaze upon you as you stood while they fell. We are victorious.”