The Goblin Wars Part One
Page 8
“Necromancer?” the man questioned, rising up to a sitting position. If he felt any fear or apprehension toward his captors, he did a fine job of hiding it. “I can assure you,” he continued, “I am no necromancer, nor do I have any desire to become such an abomination.”
The calm manner with which he conversed with the goblins alerted Vorst to how powerful the man must be. She drew an arrow from her quiver and began to take aim at the man. Gravlox caught the man glancing toward the lantern sitting next to Vorst’s pack. Not sure what powers it might possess, Gravlox drew his sword and walked to the magical lantern, ready to smash it if need be.
The man leaned forward in his bindings, staring hard at Vorst. “What are you?” she said, unsure as to just how dangerous her captive was. A smile broke out on the man’s face as Vorst finished her question.
Kill him. Without a moment of hesitation, Vorst loosed her arrow, taking the man full in the chest and knocking him to the ground. He sputtered just once before his life ended. Keep the lantern, toss the body into the river where the current is strong. Vorst stood, placing her bow over her shoulder, and moved to grab the man by his ankles.
“Help me dump him, Gravlox,” she said, dragging the man through the clearing toward the river.
“What is going on? Why did you kill him?” Gravlox remained frozen in place, standing above the lantern with his sword drawn.
“Lady Scrapple commanded it. I am not one to go against her orders.” The tone of Vorst’s voice indicated that she had disobeyed the Mistress of the Mountain sometime in the past and did not entertain the possibility of ever doing it again.
“She speaks to you? Lady Scrapple speaks to you?” Gravlox was amazed. He had never heard the voice of his mother.
“She does, on occasion. Only when I am in trouble, it seems.” Vorst had the corpse almost to the river by the time Gravlox managed to pick up the man’s arms and help.
“Why does she protect you?” Gravlox asked after they had tossed the body into the river.
“I assumed she spoke to all goblins,” Vorst replied calmly, rubbing her hands against the grass to try to remove the stench of human. Gravlox knew she was lying, but decided it was better to let it go and ask his questions later. If Lady Scrapple talked to all goblins, why had she never spoken to him?
“We should get going,” Vorst said as she gathered up their supplies. “I do not like this place. It reeks of humans. Grab the lantern, I know enough about ghost flowers to make a potent enough poison.” Her command was final and sucked all the joyful life from her voice.
The two goblins didn’t speak as they headed out of the clearing in the direction of Kanebullar Mountain.
They had been on the trail for about an hour before Gravlox finally found the courage to break the silence. “Vorst, you aren’t acting like yourself. What is going on?” He didn’t know how to phrase the question properly. He really just wanted to know who his companion actually was and how she came to speak the human language.
Vorst sighed. “Grav, I think you need to ask that question to yourself. You are more than you let on.” Vorst stopped on the trail, turning to face Gravlox and look him in the eye. “Lady Scrapple has me watching you.”
“Why?” he pleaded more than asked. It was clear from his expression that Gravlox assumed he was about to die. “For plotting to kill a miner?” He put his hands in the air, ready to defend himself.
“No, silly Gravlox, of course not!” Vorst laughed, “You weren’t made to be just a foreman, or even the leader of a mine. You were born with certain…. powers.” She paused a moment before continuing. “Lady Scrapple made sure of it.”
“What sort of powers?” Gravlox asked, looking at his hands, expecting them to suddenly feel stronger and bulge with muscle.
“Alright Gravlox, I don’t know if you are ready for this or not, but I will try to show you.” Vorst closed her eyes, silently conversing with Lady Scrapple and seeking her approval. She drew her short sword from its scabbard at her side, holding it firmly in her hand. “Close your eyes and imagine the ground right behind you. Picture yourself five feet from me, instead of just two.”
Trusting fully in Vorst’s judgment, Gravlox did just that. Vorst stabbed out hard with her sword, aiming for Gravlox’s vulnerable neck. Faster than Vorst’s mind and eyes could even register, Gravlox was standing further away, out of her sword’s biting reach.
“Open your eyes, silly,” Vorst said in her usual voice, full of life and melody. The gasp that escaped Gravlox’s mouth sent birds fluttering from the trees.
Gravlox simply stood on the trail, a dumbfounded expression etched onto his hairless face. “How did you do that?” he finally stammered, barely audible. The frightened goblin touched his body, wondering if he was even real.
“I didn’t do that, Grav, you did!” Vorst jumped about, excited that Gravlox was finally discovering his powers. “You were created by Lady Scrapple to be a shaman, Gravlox. You just never figured it out on your own. Some goblins need a little pushing.”
Gravlox let the explanation sink in, wondering how he had lived his entire life without knowing he was a shaman. “What else can I do?” he asked, eager to learn of his abilities.
“I can’t help you there. Goblin shaman aren’t like human mages or wizards. Goblins don’t spend years in a school learning all of their powers, they just kind of come to us when we are ready. You have to discover things for yourself.” Vorst started to skip down the path back toward Kanebullar Mountain.
“How long have you known?” Gravlox asked, running to catch up to Vorst as his mind raced. “About me, that is,” he clarified.
“Lady Scrapple told me a while ago,” Vorst called back over her shoulder, vaulting a fallen log that blocked the path. The two goblins sped off through the forest, Gravlox trying hard to keep pace with his lithe companion, eventually arriving at the small creek where they had previously felled the elk.
Gravlox ran with his head down, breathing heavily and not even aware that Vorst had abruptly stopped at the edge of the small clearing. The two goblins rolled into the glen, fully entangled. Gravlox was too absorbed in his thoughts and emotions to have noticed the line of human crossbowmen kneeling on the other side of the grass.
Gravlox did, however, manage to hear the click they made as the bolts fired out from their bows, cutting a horizontal line of death through the afternoon air. Had it not been for his ungraceful tumble into the back of his friend, the two goblins would have surely been cut to ribbons by the volley. Fourteen crossbow bolts sailed above the goblin pair, thudding into the trees and other brush behind them.
The foreman froze, not sure what course of action he should take. Vorst didn’t waste a single moment, leaping into action with her usual confidence. The crossbows, taking time to reload, had used up all of their effectiveness in the first volley. Vorst’s short bow was much more mobile, ripping the life from three of the men before they even drew their swords.
“Get up!” Vorst called to Gravlox, still lying prone on the grass. The nearest two crossbowmen charged, their gleaming sword points leading the way. Vorst swung her bow, more of an attempt to distract the men than deal any damage. It worked, buying the goblin a split second to draw her own sword and toss her travelling pack to the ground. Gravlox was up by the time the soldiers closed the gap, squaring off against the two. Vorst barely rose to the height of the average man’s waist, so she used her shortness to her advantage, ducking in under the sweeping strikes of the soldiers.
Both swords crossed above her head harmlessly as she scored a hit on the back of one knee, rolling out to the other side, near the reloading crossbowmen. Moving purely out of desperation, Gravlox parried the first strike high, knocking the blade away and stepping into the attack, bringing his body right up against the shining armor of the human soldier. The goblin foreman reached within himself, trying to find his inner wellspring of power, the conduit between the realm of magic and his pale fingertips.
Blood showe
red from the back of the soldier, pieces of his metal chain armor flying all over the grass and bits of gore splattering the man’s comrades. Gravlox slowly withdrew his hand from the far side of the man’s chest cavity. Blood dripped from his fingers to stain the green grass. A few of the crossbowmen paused, lowering their weapons as they watched the corpse of the man fall. A large hole gaped in the soldier’s chest. Gravlox stood behind the torn remnants of the human, staring at the lines of blood on his own arm.
The man fighting against Vorst stopped, staring slack jawed at the scene, allowing her plenty of time to put her sword to deadly work.
Sensing a lull in the combat, the leader of the guard patrol stepped forward, calling for his soldiers to stay their weapons. The leader, designated by the bright white cape he wore, kept his hands in the air before him and made no moves to unsheathe his sword. “Taurnil!” he called out with a smile.
The heavy beating of wings heralded the demon’s arrival. Taurnil landed softly on the grass in front of the humans, just an arm’s length from the small goblins. The beast’s skin was eerily similar in color and texture to that of the goblins, but that is where the similarities ended.
Taurnil opened his mouth, revealing a circular maw of jagged teeth, three elongated tongues dancing about happily. Gravlox could make out the terrified face of one of the crossbowmen through a ragged tear in the monster’s huge wing. Bone claws at the bottom of each wing pulsated with energy, hungry for a kill. The ashen-skinned nightmare wore no armor, its long claws serving as its only conventional weapons.
Gravlox and Vorst stood close to each other, both expecting the other to act first. Vorst looked at her wooden bow longingly, the weapon lying just inches behind one of Taurnil’s pale feet. Gravlox glanced down at his own weapon, the hilt of his sword clutched tightly in his shaking hand.
Taurnil stretched his muscled arms out wide and clicked his claws violently in the air. The demon rushed in, using one beat of his wings to lift him from the ground. Taurnil’s scything talons creased the air, screaming in from the sides, wide enough to decapitate both goblins at once. Gravlox lifted his arm to block the coming death, not wanting to look the demon in the face.
Taurnil’s mighty claw struck Gravlox’s arm, hitting him with full force. The short goblin felt the pulse of energy within him, the magic racing to his limb, absorbing the entire attack without the claw even breaking his skin. Taurnil used his winged speed to continue over the goblins and landed down behind them.
Gravlox felt the well of magic within him begin to dwindle, having spent almost all of his remaining energy blocking the first attack. Taurnil reared his head back and spat, launching a spray of green bile toward the goblins. Thinking fast, Vorst pushed Gravlox to the side and rolled the opposite direction. The acid began to smolder and melt the ground where it landed.
The pale demon strode in, heading directly for Vorst, thinking his victory nigh with the two opponents split on the battlefield. Vorst lifted her sword in front of her and readied her defense. The great winged beast slashed out at the small goblin, his muscled arm sweeping in above the sword. Vorst jerked her defense skyward at the last moment, hoping to sever the claws from the demon, but only succeed in entangling her blade.
Taurnil was stronger than Vorst could have ever imagined, wrapping his sinewy fingers around the blade and disarming her with a flick of his powerful wrist. Vorst could only watch in horror as her weapon tumbled to the grass. Her peripheral vision picked up the action of Taurnil’s wing, but it was too late. Vorst was disarmed, with no way to block and nowhere to dodge.
The barbed end of Taurnil’s right wing came driving up, the demon having pulled his wings in suddenly and arching his back. The bone spear bit deeply into the soft flesh of Vorst’s hip, rending it open and spilling forth her blood in a great rush of agony. Vorst howled in pain.
Gravlox was behind the beast, hoping to decapitate the demon while it struck. His short sword came down in a flurry, all of the goblin’s strength behind the blow. Just inches from the taut and ashen neck, the left wing of the monster snapped in tight, the top of it coming into perfect line with the descending blade. Gravlox chopped down and cut a deep wound in the top of the leathery wing.
Taurnil pulled back, dislodging his barb from Vorst’s side, and curling away. One flap of his wings sent him high into the air, relative to the short goblins, and placed him safely out of their reach. Blood flowed freely from the top of Taurnil’s wing but it flowed faster from Vorst’s hip.
Vorst tried to roll and retrieve her bow, hoping to shoot the flying demon from the air. She didn’t get far, her leg failing beneath her the moment she put weight upon it.
Gravlox watched her crumble to the bloody grass, clutching her wound. The rage welled up inside him, a red wall of seething anger. Gravlox swung his sword about in the grip of his hand, letting his acrimony build. With a fierce, primal growl, Gravlox leveled his blade and charged, intent on skewering the beast where he hovered.
The goblin foreman leaped from the ground, his small but powerful miner’s legs catapulting him into range. He stabbed out, a vicious thrust aimed right for the grey chest of his foe. Taurnil curled his wings in tightly about his body, rolling in the air to deflect the blow, gravity pulling him to the ground. Gravlox’s sword struck true, slicing a clean path through both wings and pinning them to the beast’s chest. Taurnil’s roll rent the sword from the goblin’s hand, the hilt of the weapon acting as the head of a nail, keeping the monster’s arms pinned inside his wings.
Gravlox fell to his back on the bloodstained grass, coming up quickly in a roll. Taurnil began to retreat back to the line of crossbowmen. The line of soldiers had reloaded by then and leveled their bows at the two goblins. Gravlox, his adrenaline-fueled bloodlust all but dissipated, looked upon the line of soldiers and despaired. He could not stand against that volley.
The shaman fell to his knees beside his writhing companion, expecting the end to come swiftly. He bent low over Vorst, attempting to apologize for getting them both killed, but the beautiful goblin female was already gone, her mind having fled to the peaceful sanctuary of the unconscious.
Eight crossbows clicked. The soldiers fired a hail of deadly bolts into the air. Gravlox felt the last remnants of energy deep inside his body fading; the well of power was nearly dry. His hands clutched at the slick ground, the dirt and blood feeling sickeningly warm beneath his pale fingers. With a cry, Gravlox ripped two handfuls of dirt from the ground, throwing them into the path of the iron-tipped bolts as one last act of desperation. The ground beneath the small clumps of earth rolled and a roiling temblor rose up from the goblin’s fingertips, racing toward the soldiers. The wall of vibrating grass and soil shot forth, sending a turbid column of dust into the air.
The growing tremor absorbed the bolts, soaking up their added energy. The captain, being the singular standing soldier of the group, was the only human fortunate enough to have the time to escape before the shockwave of earth hit the line. Soldiers flew from their crouched positions with wild abandon, the sheer energy of the wave blowing apart their weapons and bones like twigs in a tornado.
Taurnil and the lone surviving soldier ran for their lives. The wave of earth dissipated far from the fleeing pair, its magic spent. Gravlox collapsed to his back, truly exhausted, the power within him utterly depleted. In the same belabored heartbeat, two score of additional soldiers sprinted into the clearing, weapons at the ready.
They were goblin soldiers though, coming to aid the fallen pair. Their leader, a heroic goblin warchief by the name of Yael, rushed to Vorst, quickly tending to her grievous wound. The goblin soldiers secured the area, making sure that Taurnil and the human had fled and no other men were nearby.
It took nearly two hours to return Vorst to consciousness. Her hip was patched with rugged strips of leather, an herbal poultice filling in the wound and aiding the healing process. Gravlox merely sat next to the wounded goblin, watching the other goblins work to save her life, not spe
aking a word. Finally, Yael approached the shaken foreman. “Lady Scrapple sent me here with a warband of drones to help you,” he explained. When she saw the vision of Vorst killing the man by the river, she knew there would be a fight. Yael sat on the ground next to Gravlox.
“Why does Lady Scrapple only speak to her? Why is it that I have never heard her voice?” Gravlox was staring in the direction of Kanebullar Mountain, his mind reeling with a thousand questions.
Yael let out a long sigh. “Lady Scrapple cannot feel you. You are not connected to her by the magical bonds that unite all of the goblins. The drones, these soldiers I brought with me, they are merely manifestations of Lady Scrapple’s will. They do not think, they do not make decisions, they are simply tools, like the crude weapons they wield.” Gravlox spent a long moment digesting the profound words.
“What have I done to so offend the Mistress of the Mountain? I never wanted to be cast out from her favor…” Gravlox let his head fall, staring into the dried blood beneath him, sorrow stamped clearly on his face.
Yael shook his head. “You were not cast out by our mother, never that,” he reached a hand out to Gravlox’s shoulder, trying to comfort the troubled goblin. “The well of magic that resides inside you is limitless. It is too powerful for even Lady Scrapple to hope to comprehend. Her psionic magic has no hold over you. You, foreman Gravlox, are the first goblin that is truly free. No part of your will is bound to that of our common creator.” Yael stood, returning to help the injured Vorst as her mind returned to her corporeal body.
Gravlox gazed into his hands, clenching his fists and trying to call upon the energy within him. The shamanistic power was unresponsive. “Your friend here is a high ranking associate of the Ministry of Assassination,” Yael said as he checked the bandage on Vorst’s side. “She was assigned to keep tabs on you, reporting your life to Lady Scrapple, and to kill you if the need arose. Clearly, that need has not yet arisen.” Yael was gathering his warband together, calling the mindless soldiers to his side.