by Pirateaba
“Neither Zel Shivertail nor I liked the peace, but we did abide by it. Well, eventually…”
—-
The unexpected arrival of the Antinium had saved Liscor and prompted an opportunity to turn the war around for the Drake high command. Against the urgings of Zel Shivertail and a number of Drake [Commanders] they signed a peace treaty with the Grand Queen, giving the Antinium a number of small concessions in return for their aid and an immediate cease to hostilities. This writer believes any peace with the Antinium is foolish, but at the time the Drakes had no choice. And perhaps the Antinium felt the same way. The Goblin King was too great of a threat, and so the Peace at Liscor prompted an unlikely alliance.
What is notable about that period is the reaction of the two leaders in the field at Liscor. Klbkch the Slayer and Zel Shivertail both objected to the peace and engaged in several clashes before their armies separated. However, the rest of the Antinium and Drake armies were able to coordinate without the same incidents occurring. While no Drake army ever fought with an Antinium army, the two sides were able to focus solely on the Goblin King’s army and divide targets between themselves.
Now the Goblin King found himself at war with all of Izril, and only now did the tides of fortune begin to turn against him. While the Drakes were occupied with the Necromancer and Antinium they were at the mercy of the Goblins, but now the hammer of the Drake armies was free to march against their foe without needing to guard their tails.
With the Antinium. And the Humans. And some Gnoll tribes. And armies from three other continents who had landed their forces. But it was the Drakes who spearheaded the assaults on the Goblin King’s armies! And it was they who drove the Goblins back at last, winning battles, defeating the Goblin Lords in a series of victories!
But never the Goblin King. Alas, the fortitudes of the Drake armies had been sapped slightly by the two wars they had fought beforehand and even their [Generals] were unable to defeat the Goblin King in a pitched battle. It became clear that the Goblin King was still unassailable in his main army, which continued to win victory after victory, forcing the defending forces to retreat rather than suffer defeats at his hands.
Part of the issue lay in the scattered nature of the forces fighting against the Goblin King. Some, like the Terandrian armies, had joined with Izril’s humans to create a powerful army while others groups like the Balerosian companies fought alone on their fronts. The Antinium were naturally impossible to work with and the cooperative Drake armies suffered from numerous communication failures with other forces, leading to a number of uncoordinated attacks and defeats.
In this writer’s opinion, part or most of the blame can be assigned to the Humans in the north, who had squandered their advantage by separating their strength. The Five Families of Izril who had united in its last defense against the Goblin King did not fight against him together after the battle.
Instead, each of the five houses fought against the Goblin King in their own way. Lord Tyrion Veltras pursued an aggressive campaign against the Goblin King with his forces while Magnolia Reinhart focused on linking up with Niers Astoragon’s forces and maintaining a defensive perimeter to halt the armies of the Goblin Lords. Had they but worked together, the Goblin King might have fallen sooner. Alas, their disunity cost the continent weeks of continued warfare. A typical Human failure of course; putting their own self-interest before the greater good.
“A poor analysis. But I should expect no better from a [Writer], much less a Drake.”
A cold voice interrupted the narrative. Lord Tyrion looked up as he sat in a chair in the dark candle-lit room. A small voice spoke up by his left hand side.
“Father? Did you really fight with the Reinharts?”
Tyrion Veltras, the famous [Lord] and scion of the Veltras family looked over at a young boy of eight or nine. The young boy had dark brown hair and a slightly flushed face. He was caught between youthful energy and sickness, so that it seemed as though his vitality couldn’t be contained with his frail body.
“Lie back down.”
Tyrion ordered his son and the young boy did so, wheezing gently. Tyrion Veltras paused and an expression of distaste crossed his face as he chose how to reply.
“It was an alliance of necessity, Sammial. I would not ally with Magnolia Reinhart for anything less than the safety of Izril, but in that she and I are united. For all her many flaws, Magnolia Reinhart is at least dedicated to the safety of the realm, unlike some of our peers. But the way she pursued that safety during the war was at odds with the way I chose to fight. So we separated our forces. It was not a tactical error so much as a necessity; if we had stayed in one place we might have been crushed by the Goblin King, a fact that this author fails to note.”
He turned his gaze to stare at the book, making the man holding the book flinch. However, if Tyrion had hoped his words had impressed the seriousness of the situation on his son, he was instantly disappointed. Sammial shot back up indignantly and glared at his father.
“My name is Sammy! I keep telling you and you keep forgetting!”
Lord Tyrion sighed slowly and spoke with clear patience in his tone.
“Sammy is not a name appropriate for a [Lord]. Your name is Sammial, a fine name—”
“It’s gross! I want to be Sammy!”
“You will refer to yourself as Sammial. Is that clear?”
Lord Tyrion’s eyes flashed and Sammial hesitated. He bowed his head sulkily and lay back, breathing harder. Tyrion eyed his son and turned his head to look at the other occupant of the bed.
“You would do well to copy your older brother, Sammial. Hethon listens before he speaks. Do you have any questions about my strategy, Hethon?”
The other boy in the bed sat up nervously.
“No father.”
“Very well.”
Tyrion nodded at his second son, Hethon, who was perhaps twelve. Hethon didn’t have the same sickly complexion as Sammial, but he was thin and nervous, hardly as imposing a figure as his father. Tyrion turned his head and his son breathed a sigh of relief. The [Lord] nodded and spoke in a crisp, commanding voice.
“Continue, Ullim.”
The man sitting across the bed in a stool jumped. The [Majordomo] of the Veltras estate nervously flicked to the next page and read in a steady voice.
Of course, Lord Tyrion was too busy to read to his sons, which was why he had ordered his [Majordomo] to keep them entertained at all times. That normally meant bedtimes as well, but this was a special occasion.
Lord Tyrion’s rage upon hearing that Magnolia Reinhart, his hated nemesis, had allied herself with Zel Shivertail had led to the destruction of his personal parlor, including the slashed drapes, broken windows, and two complete suits of armor, now looking quite battle-worn. His anger had frightened his two young sons, which was why he had agreed to sit with them for a bedtime reading.
That was uncharacteristic of Lord Tyrion, who had been absent from the household of late. The loss of his late wife had driven a rift between him and his sons. He was not, Ullim reflected, the most intimate of fathers in any case. Even now he sat on a chair next to his son’s beds rather than in them, sharpening a dagger with a whetstone.
The balding Ullim cleared his throat and read out loud as clearly as he could. He had served the Veltras’ for years as had six generations of his family, but he was aware that a single terrible mistake could end in his dismissal. Lord Tyrion valued loyalty, but he did not tolerate incompetence or betrayal.
“The ah, ‘failing Human armies’ had yet to repel the Goblin King, forcing the Drakes to once again come to their rescue. However, it seemed as though Velan the Kind was determined to fight to the bitter end and his Goblin Lords refused to give in, slaying [Assassins] sent to kill them, beheading Human [Lords] and [Generals], and escaping when defeat threatened their armies. While the Goblin King and his Lords lived, there could be no true victory.”
“Father? Is the Goblin Lord going to destroy Invrisil?”�
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Ullim stopped reading and Lord Tyrion looked at Hethon. In keeping with his nature, he did not reassure his son, but pondered the question as he would any military matter.
“We shall see if Zel Shivertail’s claws have dulled with age. He was defeated by the Goblin Lord once—I can only trust that he will either repel the Goblin Lord or retreat before the battle is lost.”
He scowled, not reassured by what should have been positive news for his people.
“Either way, I must hope that the Goblin Lord’s army remains strong enough to enact my plan. Curse Reinhart. It’s as if she is determined to ruin all of my designs, even the ones she knows nothing of!”
He slapped his knee and sheathed the dagger at his belt in a brisk motion. Hethon and Sammial watched their father, almost as fearfully as Ulliam. Tyrion strode towards the windows and stared out into the dark night. It was Sammial who asked the next question with all the recklessness of youth.
“If the Goblin Lord is strong, how strong is the Goblin King? Could you beat him, father?”
Ullim flinched and Lord Tyrion turned from the window. His voice was glacial as he replied.
“Most likely not, Sammial. Not without the ancestral relics and more risk than I would care to take. But an intelligent [Lord] would not gamble victory so in any case. The Goblin King was a threat, yes, but he was one that we could deal with. This Drake would have you believe we were struggling to defeat his armies—the truth is that we had a plan and we were enacting it. His forces were pulling back across the continent, giving us concrete targets to strike at, opportunities to rout his forces. We were winning even if we had to sacrifice thousands of soldiers to cut down his own.”
“Why? If he was stronger than everyone else, doesn’t that mean he’d win?”
Sammial wrinkled his nose, confused. Tyrion laughed shortly and shook his head.
“The war was won by numbers and strategy, not the heroics of a single figure, Sammial. The Goblin King had not the strength to fight on so many fronts. Despite his hordes, he left himself exposed. Vulnerable. We could not defeat his main army so we crippled his limbs. We went after his Goblin Lords. Remember that, Sammial, Hethon. If a foe is too strong for you to take on from the front, bleed him to death.”
Lord Tyrion’s eyes blazed fiercely and his children shrank in their beds. Ullim the [Majordomo] thought it was a shame. Even when Tyrion Veltras smiled he still lacked fatherly warmth.
But who better to fight a Goblin King? He had been there, and seen his fall. Ullim gulped and continued reading as Lord Tyrion brooded, recalling the past and the ending of the Second Antinium War.
—-
The strategy that ended the Goblin King was simple: take out his Lords. The Goblin King was, after all, only one Goblin. Like any [King] or [General] he required subordinates to coordinate his massive army efficiently. Additionally, his Goblin Lords were all powerful combatants and their ability to act autonomously had allowed Velan to challenge so many armies at once.
However, with the Antinium and more reinforcements arriving each week, even the Goblin Lords were finally outnumbered. They had to retreat or be overwhelmed from every side. The Goblin King attempted to break through the encircling armies, but Antinium armies advanced from the south, drawing away a good portion of his forces. Wrymvr the Deathless even slew a Goblin Lord in personal combat, further damaging the Goblin King’s leadership.
It was the fall of Tallis Stormbreaker that truly told the world the Goblin King was on the verge of defeat. Three Archmages of Wistram cornered the Goblin Lord’s army with their own and engaged him in a magical battle that lasted for two days and two nights. On the second day, Xrn the Small Queen and an Antinium force attacked from the Goblin Lord’s side. It is thought that the unpredictable magics employed by Xrn combined with the might of the Wistram’s Archmages overwhelmed Tallis the Stormbreaker. As the Goblin [Shaman] fell he unleashed a storm which battered Izril for a week with drenching rain and hurricane winds. But he had fallen.
At this point the Goblin King had a handful of Goblin Lords left. It is hard to tell how many truly existed or remained at this point since his Goblin Chieftains could lead huge armies of his own, but the Goblin King had lost many of his vassals and abandoned his multi-sided war across the continent. He formed his remaining forces into one massive army and marched straight towards the combined armies of the world, meeting them in a battle that would last four days and decide the fate of the Antinium Wars.
Eighteen companies from Baleroes. An army of [Knights] from Terandria. The battle-hardened forces from Rhir. A small detachment from Chandrar’s kingdoms. The might of Wistram. The Humans of Izril and of course, the glorious armies of the Drake cities. This is the force that engaged the Goblin King in the final battle, while smaller forces drew away his Goblin Lords.
It was a daring plan. The Antinium and Niers Astoragon both cut off parts of the Goblin King’s army, forcing several of his Lords to battle them and leaving the Goblin King exposed. In that brief window, the allied armies attacked, aiming for one goal and one alone: the death of the Goblin King.
The battle opened with a direct charge on the Velan the Kind by six [Generals] and an army of [Knights] and mounted adventurers, including three Named Adventurers. They sought to best him by strength of arms—and failed.
The Goblin King slew two of the [Generals], a [Lord] of Terandria and Ironheart Calecum, the Named Adventurer in personal combat, forcing the vanguard to retreat in disarray. The Goblin King chased after the retreating soldiers and found himself in a mage bombardment that cut him off from his army.
Unbeknownst to the Goblin King, a separate detachment had been created apart from the main army that was clashing with his forces. It was led by the three Archmages of Wistram and the majority of the high-level [Mages] and [Archers] began to rain death on his position, attempting to destroy the Goblin King at range.
They too failed.
The Goblin King survived the area of attack spells and arrows meant to take his life. However, his personal invincibility did not extend to his army and his vanguard was wiped out to the last Goblin by the powerful spells concentrated on his position. The Goblin King was now left in a precarious position. His army was being subjected to massive attacks from the detachment led by the Archmages, yet any attempt to charge their position led to destruction.
Without Tallis Stormbreaker the allied world forces had an overwhelming magical advantage that they intended to use to decimate the Goblin King’s forces. There was no one who could survive the magical onslaught even at a distance to close and destroy the mages. The end of Velan the Kind seemed to be on hand at last.
“No!”
A groan went up from the Goblins clustered around the book. The lieutenants and former Goblin Chieftains in the Goblin Lord’s tent crowded around the open history of the Second Antinium Wars lying on his table. They had found the book faster than Osthia Blackwing had anticipated—raiding cities and libraries for this very copy.
The lone Drake prisoner sat in the Goblin Lord’s tent, watching Goblins read their own history. They did not know it, which surprised her. Oh, they knew the broadest of strokes. They knew their King had been slain, but not how. Now Snapjaw bared her metal teeth, snarling.
“Cowards! They attack from afar! Not fair!”
Fair? Osthia wanted to laugh at her. What was fairness in battle? But she didn’t speak, knowing the mood in the tent was murderous.
And full of grief. The Goblins acted like their King’s death was fresh and personal, which surprised Osthia. They didn’t seem to be acting. But Goblins, grieving over Velan the Kind? It was hard to accept.
“How? How does it happen?”
Another Goblin pushed forwards, a tall Hob. He jabbed at the book. Snapjaw, one of the more literate Hobs in the tent, peered at the book. She read, her face screwing up with the effort.
“It say—Goblins dying. Mages from Wis—Wis Tram attacking. Killing by thousands. Goblin King sees.
And he—he—”
She choked on the words. Osthia looked at her, knowing what had happened. But Snapjaw couldn’t say it. Her eyes filled with tears as the others looked at her, prodding her to speak.
“Say! Say!”
“Cannot. Cannot. Too—”
Snapjaw shook her head. A voice interrupted the Goblins as they pestered her.
“Leave her. I know what happened next.”
A Goblin standing apart from the others spoke. Osthia looked around, and saw the Goblin Lord standing, looking out of the tent flaps. Her eyes narrowed. He hadn’t read the book—he’d just listened while the Goblins had torturously read page after page. How could he know?
But he did, somehow. The Goblin Lord turned. His eyes were distant, staring back at another battlefield in the past. All of the Goblins in the tent looked at him. The Goblin Lord’s eyes were filled with tears. Osthia stared.
Tears. They were clear and ran down his face from his white pupils. Ordinary tears, bitter and filled with regret. The Goblin Lord answered in place of Snapjaw.
“What did he do next? What he could. The only thing he could. To save his people, for victory, he did all he could do.”
A tear fell from the Goblin Lord’s eyes and he caught it. It glimmered in his hand. Wet. Memory. The Goblin Lord whispered into the silence.
“He charged alone.”
—-
Alone! Into the heart of the maelstrom, through fields of fire, weathering the spells of three Archmages and bombardment from all sides! The Goblin King advanced on the small army of mages, his forces struggling to come to his aid, his Goblin Lords scattered on the battlefield.
The Archmages of Wistram threw death towards him. They broke the earth and unleashed magics that burned the air itself. They struck him with lightning, they ensnared him with magical nets and the lesser [Mages] and [Archers] filled the skies with fireballs and arrows.