The chubby hobgoblin grabbed Elijah under his armpits and lifted him to his feet. Elijah screamed in horror, "Wait!"
“Gods, he is going to wake up the whole castle down below. Be a man, you pitiful human!” Klotts said as he plunged a large rusty cleaver into the human’s gut and quickly retracted. It was a disgusting wet, ripping sound. Some of his entrails hung out of the hole the clever had made. Elijah dropped to his knees and put both hands on the evisceration.
“You piece of dog shit, it could have been a quick and clean decapitation. Now you will suffer as your stomach acid spills into your gut, and your entrails drag the ground!” Klotts yelled as he pointed the bloody cleaver at the fatally wounded human. Fat and viscera hung from the rusty blade, and blood dripped to the ground. Elijah laid on the ground in the fetal position as blood and digestive fluids pooled on the dirt. It would be a slow, painful death.
Jack had awoken from the blunt trauma, but he was frozen in fear. He was unable to move or speak after watching what had happened to his friend.
“Mung, take care of this one. I need to take a piss,” Klotts commanded as he walked away to relieve himself on the small campfire.
Jack attempted to crawl away, but it was futile. Mung swung a massive Warhammer and slammed the hammerhead into the small of Jack’s back. A sickening thud followed by a crack and scream filled the night sky. The strike had paralyzed Jack from the waist down, as it shattered his spinal cord. After a couple of moments of watching the human squirm above the waist, Mung crushed Jack’s skull, and it exploded into skull fragments, brain tissue, and cerebral fluid.
Klotts urinated on the campfire and put it out. They were in complete darkness, but the hobgoblin’s vision was impressive in the dark.
“Klott’s this one over here is still breathing. You want me to finish him off?”
“No, I told the little bastard to get on his knees, and he made his choice. He will die soon enough. Let's get back down to Wrimrung and the army at Colkirk and tell them it is time to attack.”
CHAPTER 36
Milo was exhausted as he stood at his post at the front gate of Darthill. He had been stuck with the night shift for two days in a row. Milo was a 35-year-old gnome who had lived in Colkirk his entire life. He worked in the brewery there as an apprentice. Now, the gnome stood guard at a castle with a bow. Just a few weeks ago, he had never touched a weapon in his life. Currently, he was developing into a decent marksman with a nice, wooden bow. Cody and Henegarron had taken the gnome out on a few hunting expeditions, and he was able to impress them with his ability. Gnomes were not known for their fighting ability or use of weaponry. Milo had grown proud of himself. He guarded the wall a bit more than some of the others at Darthill because he had no family and nothing else to do for the most part. He was determined to impress the council and Varnoth with his dedication and ability. He had hoped that one day he would sit on the council. Milo knew it was a long shot, of course, but he still planned to work hard in hopes it would lead to a higher station at Darthill.
The night was a bit chillier than it had been earlier in the week. He was aggravated with himself for not bringing a coat, and now he shivered as he yawned. Milo yanked on his beard when he felt his eyes grow heavy. When he was confident that no one at the other towers was looking his way, he would slap himself on the cheek. As he paced back and forth, he noticed something strange up the mountain where the lookout crew was posted. At night, Milo knew that they would build a small fire for warmth and a little bit of light. It was hidden relatively well from the valley, but the guard at the front gate would be able to see it, not well, but it could be seen.
Milo stopped and squinted as he looked to the spot. He didn’t think his mind was playing tricks on him, and he knew he was looking in the right place. The spot was almost dead center in front of the castle. Milo saw nothing. There was no campfire, only complete darkness. He stood with a puzzled look on his face that slowly turned into a face that illustrated a great deal of fear. Milo knew something was not right. That fire should be going steady, but it was out. He knew Jack and Elijah very well. He knew that they wouldn’t put that fire out, because they would be in complete darkness. Something was wrong. Milo was commanded not to leave his post. He was not free to go, even if he had to relieve himself. The guards had pails to do their business. He turned to look again, and he was one hundred percent certain that the fire was out. He knew that he had to tell either Henegarron or William. Milo took a deep breath and climbed down the wooden ladder to the ground below and ran into the castle. Henegarron’s chambers were closest, and that was where he headed.
Milo banged on the wooden door as hard as he could with his small fists. The impact was harrowing due to the cold temperature of the flesh on his hands. There was no response, so he kept knocking on the oak door harder and harder. Suddenly he heard the sound of angry footsteps headed toward the door. It swung open quickly, and Henegarron stood in the doorway with gritted teeth.
“What in the hell are you doing? You have left your post! Gods sakes Milo, this better be damned good!” yelled Henegarron.
“Yes sir, I am sorry, I have to let someone know that the fire up at the mountain lookout is out. I feel something is very wrong. The fire is always going, Mr. Raytak.”
Henegarron’s face morphed from anger to concern when he processed what Milo had said.
“Are you absolutely sure that it is out? I am not going to go wake up William and Varnoth to look like a dumbass if you were looking in the wrong spot.”
“Yes sir, I am very certain. I would bet my life on it. I am sorry that I had to wake you, but I didn’t know what else to do, sir,” replied Milo.
“Get back to your post. I will take it from here. No lolly-gagging, get back there now!”
Milo nodded then turned and moved quickly toward the courtyard.
“Milo!” yelled Henegarron. Milo stopped in his tracks and turned to look toward the dwarf.
“Thank you,” Henegarron said with a nod.
He went back into his chambers and dressed and gathered his weapons. Once he was done, he made his way to wake up William and head to Varnoth’s chambers.
A few minutes later, Varnoth was awoken by a loud knock at his door. A seconds later, the door opened and in walked William and Henegarron in armor and with weapons.
“Gods fellows, what is wrong?” Varnoth asked as he yawned and wiped the sleep from his large eyes.
“Our guard at the north gate reported that the outlook fire had been extinguished. He is certain of what he has seen,” said William.
“Alright, I’m up,” Varnoth said as he gathered his things.
“What are you going to do?” asked Henegarron.
“I am headed up there right now. Something isn’t right. That fire shouldn’t be out,” Varnoth said as he sheathed his daggers onto his belt.
“Aye, I will go with you,” replied Henegarron.
“No, I need you to stay here. I need to move quickly, and you will just slow me down. Please wake the council and convene. I will find out what is going on and return as quickly as I can.”
“But, sir…” William was cut off.
“I must go now. Excuse me.”
Varnoth quickly ran down the stairs of the castle and sprinted out the front door. As he ran toward the front gate, he looked at the mountain. Milo was right. The fire was not burning.
CHAPTER 37
Varnoth sped up the rocky, steep pathway as fast as he could. It had been awhile since he has had a reason to move that fast. At level 20, his speed and stamina blew his mind. After only a few minutes of running, he was close to the dark campsite. He heard no sounds other than the insects and wind flowing through the trees. As he came closer to his destination, he was smacked in the face by the smell of blood. He could also make out a stench of bile. His dire concerns after he learned of the fire being extinguished had come to fruition. The shadow panther saw two bodies lying in the dirt. The first victim, he could not identify. The hea
d of the corpse had exploded on the ground. Hair, skull, brains, and blood were strewn all over the earth. It was a horrific sight to behold. If he had to wager a guess at the weapon used, he would say a heavy blunt weapon. This was no cut. It was a definite smash.
Varnoth approached the second body, and fortunately, the head was still intact. He recognized it as Elijah, which left no question of who the first body was, Jack. Elijah laid on the dirt with his mouth open, and eyes open wide in an eternal glare of horror. The human’s tongue hung out of his gaping mouth. A river of blood had poured down his tongue and puddled on the damp dirt. The mortal wound could be seen as Varnoth knelt. Elijah had been stabbed with a massive blade. His entrails were in a pile on the soil in front of his body. Varnoth quickly stood to his feet and dry heaved.
A wave of remorse and sadness cloaked the shadow panther as he questioned his command to put people up here on watch. As Varnoth massaged his temples with his thumb and middle finger of his right paw, his Detection passive began to tug his attention north in the valley. Varnoth had a good idea of what he was going to see before he saw it. He walked through the trees onto a rocky cliff and looked toward Colkirk. Sure enough, he saw torches in the distance headed this way. It was the goblins. He was too far away, and it was too dark to get a good view or the count. He had to get back to Darthill as fast as he possibly could. Varnoth turned back and launched into action. He no longer followed the path. He sprinted through the trees down the mountain. He was going to rely on his high dexterity to keep him from falling and killing himself. Varnoth had not felt fear in a long time, but he was blanketed with it as he ran through the night. It was not just him to look out for. He had a community full of people that relied on him to protect them from harm. They had been preparing for several days, and he hoped that it was enough. This was war, and like any war, there would be casualties on both sides of the battle. Butterflies swirled like a vicious storm in his gut from his worry.
Suck it up. These people are your responsibility. You brought this upon them. You must lead them and be victorious. No mercy.
As Varnoth ripped out of the woods, he growled as he focused his emotions on the goblin horde and their hellish leader, Wrimrung. He wondered if Wrimrung was even brave enough to face him or if he was sitting on his throne back in the safety of Slorm.
“It’s Varnoth! Open the gate!” yelled a voice from above.
Varnoth did not even wait for the gate to open. He scaled the wall in a split second and flipped to the ground. The council was startled as the shadow panther landed in front of them out of what seemed like nothingness.
“They are coming, and we have to get ready! Ring the bell and get to your stations. Get the women and children in the armory as fast as you can!”
“And what of Elijah and Jack?” asked Hobnick.
“Dead,” Varnoth said through gritted teeth.
Hobnick’s eyes grew wide and filled with tears. The other council members stood dumbfounded at the news Varnoth had brought them.
“We must get ready, or there will be more dead bodies within these walls. Every man will have a weapon in his hand! No exceptions! The only woman allowed out of the armory will be Celeste. In my estimation, we have one hour before they arrive. I could not get a count of how many or a look at any weaponry they had with them. We have no time to waste! Move now!” screamed Varnoth.
The group disbanded rapidly. They headed toward the barracks to wake everyone up. Milo viciously rang the big, copper bell in the courtyard. The loud clangs pierced Varnoth’s sensitive eardrums like an ice pick. He could also hear Henegarron’s loud voice screaming for everyone to get their asses up and prepare for an attack. He heard women and children crying, which broke his heart. It was fear for the safety of themselves and fear for their loved ones that would fight for them.
After a few minutes, human men and gnome men began to make their way into the courtyard with bows and swords in hand. Celeste approached Varnoth with a nervous greeting, and he nodded at her with his arms crossed. Owyn jogged behind her, clearly showing his age. He bent over with his hands on his knees and breathed heavily.
“Are you going to be ok, grandfather? Maybe you should go to the armory,” said a concerned Celeste.
“Shut your mouth, girl. I am old, but I can still cook goblins like they are chickens in the fryer. How much time do we have?”
“Probably 40 minutes now, luckily they are approaching exactly how we suspected they would approach. They will charge the castle in one direction,” replied Varnoth.
“Our stronger fighters need to focus on the hobgoblins that they see. The regular goblins should be a much smaller threat.”
“Yeah, but strength can be found in numbers. I wonder if that Wrimrung bastard will be here. That is the one I want. Son of a bitch!” said Celeste with fire in her eyes.
“Girl, you will stay put and not do anything stupid. You will not attack him directly if you see him! Do you understand?” yelled Owyn.
Celeste stood still, ignoring what her grandfather was saying. Owyn reached and grabbed her arm violently.
“Do you understand?”
Celeste snapped out of her stupor and looked him in the eyes, “Yes, grandfather.”
Owyn let go of her arm and slowly regained his bearings after his outburst.
“Forgive me, Varnoth, for my anger.”
Varnoth held up his paw and nodded at the pyromancer.
“Varnoth, this is everyone here, and all of the women and children are barricaded in the armory down below!” exclaimed Henegarron.
Varnoth jumped on top of a wagon and spoke to the crowd, “They will be here soon. Make sure you have a weapon you are comfortable with and any armor that you may have at your disposal. We are ready. You have worked so hard to fortify this castle and learn how to use a weapon. These goblins think they are just going to waltz in and slaughter a bunch of lowly gnomes and humans. They are in for a rude awakening. Any goblin you see, you put an arrow or blade in their flesh. Let’s protect each other and our home. Dormatos, will you bless us before we take our positions?”
Dormatos gave a nod and walked in front of the crowd, and everyone bowed their heads, “I pray to the gods above as they look upon Darthill. I pray that they shower favor upon us and shield us from harm from this evil horde. I offer you a blessing of strength and vitality, which will make you stronger and able to withstand more punishment for the next hour.”
A bright burst of energy flowed through the people in the crowd, and everyone raised their weapons in the air and yelled.
Vitality +3 for the next 60 minutes!
Strength +3 for the next 60 minutes!
Varnoth raised both daggers toward the stars and roared so loud that it sent shockwaves through the crowd of fighters. They returned their own battle cries. Varnoth was proud to lead these wonderful people into battle. They would be victorious.
CHAPTER 38
Varnoth climbed as high as he could for a better vantage point. The shadow panther climbed out of the window of his chambers and made his way to the top of the tower. This was the highest point within the castle walls. A glow in the valley had grown brighter as each minute passed. It was the glow from the torches of the goblin invaders. The valley gave birth to their opponents, and the goblins turned toward the castle. A massive gulping sound resonated from the throat of Varnoth. The goblins had much larger numbers than he had anticipated. The distance was still too far to get a good look. However, Varnoth grabbed a looking glass from his chamber and held it to his giant eye.
There were roughly 125 goblins headed their way. He would gather that 15 of these 125 were hobgoblins. The big surprise was twofold. It appeared that dozens of goblins were toting ladders as they headed toward Darthill. The other shock was the appearance of a massive catapult. Oxen were pulling it, and there were two hobgoblins stationed with the catapult. Varnoth rushed to get off the roof and back into his room so he could rush to give an update. Suddenly Varnoth felt the tower shake as
a large projectile slammed into the spot where he stood only minutes ago. The shadow panther dove into the hallway as pieces of the ceiling fell from the impact. The large chandelier fell onto the floor and shattered into a million pieces. Screams and gasps were heard clearly from the crowd below.
“Varnoth, are you ok? What in the damn hell was that?” asked a deep voice walking up the staircase.
Varnoth was lifted to his feet, and he felt a large hand rub the dirt and rock off his back. After he regained his bearings, he recognized John, the Son of Ray, as his helper.
“Thank you, John, we must go down below and get everyone ready. There are over 100 goblins and hobgoblins headed this way, and they are bringing ladders and a catapult.
“So that boom was a catapult? Damn, cat, are you ok to move?”
“Of course I am,” replied Varnoth as he motioned for John to follow him down the stone staircase. The orc struggled to traverse the stairs with a high rate of speed, almost falling several times. Varnoth was out the door before John was halfway down the staircase.
“Thank the gods you are ok!” exclaimed William, “We saw the tower get hit and thought that you were dead.”
“They have ladders too. These bastards are more equipped than I expected them to be,” replied Varnoth.
Varnoth climbed to the walkway that stretched along the walls. The horde was 150 yards away and was preparing to fire the catapult again.
“Alright, everyone. The earth mage strengthened these walls. They should be able to withstand impact from the projectile. Get ready to duck behind the wall when they launch,” commanded Varnoth.
“We have got to do something about that catapult. Shouldn’t be too difficult,” said Flynn as he approached Varnoth on the scaffold.
“Take this for your bow, It is the Amulet of the Dire Flame. You will be able to add fire damage to your bow,” Varnoth said as he took the necklace off his and handed it to the dark elf.
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