Beyond The Wall

by Pwyll Duggan

  "Ahhh. Needed that." The older one says. "You could be on duty in the mines, Ras. Instead you've got open air patrols. Unless your piss off prissy princess then you get to patrol the woods. Three fingers of sunup and we go back, eat, drink and see what female snotters survived the night hehe. Give me that skin."

  "Right on Sal. And if we catch us a Shielder we get Upped. Maybe orc, ogre, troll. Fuck yes, no more gobber and way more pussy." The young one starts marching off.

  "Slow down, no need to do two laps when we can do one. Hit the marker over the top and we rustle the woods, see if we get a rabbit on the way back."

  "I likes rabbits. Crunch well." They both walk off, slower now, drinking.

  "Sure Ras, that’s the spirit. Speaking spirit, give." He takes the skin and chugs more.

  I lean out and watch them walk away. Half my height, like short teenagers. Short green teenagers. That's goblins, or gobbers in this case. Thin leathers for armor, knives on the belt, carrying short spears. Saw a sword sheath on one at least. Only item of concern was the white horn. The only item that looked like they cared enough about to clean. So, don't get seen. Or kill the one with the horn first. I wait for them to crest the next small hill and head onward for the woods.

  Small bushes first, then growing trees then the woods start. I keep following the stream at first, but it flattened out without any banks. It then twists back towards the main road, so I keep paralleling it. I find a small game trail that leads me to a patrol path. Again it’s a dusty path, this time with cuts on any tree close enough for the patrols to swing at. I lean my staff against tree and load the crossbow. Then everything happens at once.

  I hear noise up ahead, running and cheering, as a doe crashes through a bush. I dodge but the doe clips me on my right shoulder. The right arm with the crossbow. It triggers, and I fire the bolt and it shoots out, past the 5-little goblin like creatures chasing the doe. The bolt ricochets off a boulder my height, heading downwards and pierces the leg of a larger gobber who is following the little ones, spinning him around, sending his horn flying. I drop the bow and grab the staff. I swing down with a one hand attack and knock what I guess is a snotter from the air, sending it flying. The remaining four change targets to me and come running.

  I step back, both hands now on the staff and stab forward. There's a crunch as I hit the first in the chest and it falls backwards. Another runs past me, slashing my legs with its knife, but can't cut through the leather. The butt of my staff slams into its face, green blood flies out and it drops. I'm already stepping sideways and swinging in an arc at the last two that are further away.

  One leaps right into the path, body folding in half around the staff in a crack. As I do a return swing that body drops onto the path. The reverse swing clips the last one on the skull, leaving a dent as it crumples to the ground. I run forward to the gobber and see a green pool of blood around the slumped form. Taking no chance, I do a short overhead swing and crush its skull.

  Breathing heavily, I get to work. I cut the bolt out of the gobber with a knife. I pull off its knives and a short sword. All rusty and crap, but salvage is salvage. Barin might have some use for them. As I do this a small humming noise starts behind me. Motes of light hover over the snotters and the gobber, twinkling in the dawn light. I reach for the one above the gobber and it shoots into my palm, I feel it travel up my arm, entering my chest. My arm goes partially numb and I shake it all about. Fingers still work, and everything seems fine. Right. I capture the other motes of light, getting 5 more (slightly less energetic) spirita aqua, if that is what this is.

  Kill them to power the shield wall. I breathe deep. Time for a little more planning. To plan I need information. Time to watch and wait.

  Time to hunt.

  Chapter Eight

  I need an entrenching tool. A small shovel. Hell, anything to help me dig. I drag some more brushes near my new hiding hole, covering my pack. It makes noise with the knives and stuff in it. I've covered it among some boulders. I can see the main road from here, through the trees. The pack looks covered and I use the staff to boost me to the top of the boulders, then I can grab one of the overhanging branches and work my way up.

  I end up standing on a thick branch, I could even lay down on it, watching the 'fort' at the shieldwall. Two small wooden towers twice my height at the wall. Rough walls with a ditch facing inwards follow the road to another two towers, then cross over the road as a gate. Wooden spikes pointing out everywhere, to the sky, the rear, downwards, upwards. No real pattern apart from blocking the road totally. If I had entered there I would have died, or been captured. Not sure what would be worse.

  Each tower has two gobbers with very short bows and spears. I see a few of the smaller snotters, like deformed gobber kids, climbing the walls, falling over. One even impales itself on a spike, to the laughter of others. The troubling sight is the four tents on my side of the road. One is well made, the others mere rags. Cooking fire is in the center. There is a lot of movement in and out of the 3 poor quality tents, but the Gobbers leave the good tent alone. No animal pens or stables is a good sign for me.

  There don’t appear to be any sentries looking inwards, only those watching the wall. No pickets to stop intruders, no fence or ditch. I could walk right in if I wanted to. I don't want to. I put my hand to the horizon the sun has come over and raise three fingers. By my fingers it's just above one hour now. But I have larger fingers, so the patrols should be returning soon. Time to watch.

  Patrols, I learn, come in two types. Either a pair of gobbers or one gobber and 5 snotters. Seems to be six patrols, counting the one I killed. Three in the woods and three along the shieldwall. I also learn who has the good tent. One large and mean looking, even from here, female orc. And she's loud, rough and angry. She carries a wicked looking ax and seems to hate everyone and everything. She shouts at the patrols as they leave. Two more patrols head along my side, two go riverside.

  The clopping of hooves gets my attention as a wagon comes down the road. Betting it's pulled by a centaur. Ten points for me. Black horse part. Chain mail on her body, some sort of spear along her back. She has light hair and two straight horns, like a unicorn’s growing from above her temples. She also doesn't look amused. The wagon is filled with barrels and a small cage. Snotters are crawling over everything, trying to pry open the barrels.

  The orc goes and confronts the centaur. Both yell at each other, neither happy. Can't hear them clearly but the Orc waves dismissively at the centaur and goes back to her tent with a barrel under her arm. The centaur unhooks herself from the wagon and takes the barrels off the wagon, in her case using all her strength to lift them off. Snotters running every which way around her.

  I watch as the first snotter patrol goes past my boulders, not even taking an interest in them. They are far from quiet, making my job easier. A few minutes later the next patrol goes by, just as loud, just as aware. I move forward and drop down, gathering my gear. Staff by my side I run off down the path after the last patrol.

  The gobber is cursing the orc under her breath when my staff carves in her knee with a side swipe. She barely screams as the following swing connects with her head. As the little snotters react, I plant my feet and do a heavy and low sideways swing along the ground. I hit three, a fourth one leaps up at me with a stick of all things and the last one tumbles backwards out of the way. I get whacked on the head by the stick as the snotter collides with my chest. I drop the staff and grab its leg and swing, dashing it into a tree. I feel the numbness go up my arm as twigs and leaves fall from the tree. The last one is running at me. I never said they were smart. It leaps, and I punch. It folds over my hand in an omph and I finish it with my other fist. I gather their supplies and Spirita and start off back up the path.

  I've somehow lost the next patrol. I've been jogging along, sure I would catch up, but I can’t see or hear them anywhere. I pass my first fight. There are still pools of blood on the ground, but the bodies are gone. Not paranoid now, no
t at all. I glance around, staff ready. I move on, walking slowly now, paying attention to all I see. I start to notice the odd long web trailing from the high branches. Okay, no more woods for me. Spiders have way too many advantages here.

  I find the stream again and cross it, away from the road I should be using. Small game and birds are in evidence on this side of the stream. Forgot all about those. There was none on the other side. Bad sign that I missed. I need to pay more attention. As I ponder my next move, I think that I can hear whispered voices.

  "Shush little ones. Small plant with star like leaves. Red or green berries rounded like your thumbs. Merryn needs those to make her better."

  There's a small clearing ahead. Low bushes and grasses cover the ground. A lone woman and two small children are searching the clearing, the woman on her knees. They are all in rags, a newly woven vine basket between them. Green skin shows thru on one child, blue on the other. The woman has dark skin, a darkish grey, lighter than Aysun. I kneel behind a bush to watch. They search the clearing thoroughly, adding few sprigs to their basket. I look down and then up at them. The plant is all under the bush in front of me.

  Decisions. Is everyone a monster? Aysun and Bunny's people came from here. Do I save the village first by harvesting any souls I can find? Does it really matter? Shit.

  I am still me. I wouldn't do it back home so why would I do it here. I stand and speak.

  "Please don't panic or scream. The plant you need is over here." The woman jumps up startled and ready to run. I put my arms out, staff upwards. I move away from the plant and around the clearing, staying as far away as possible. I spot movement out of the corner of my eye and swing my staff to block. A sticky glob of web gets stuck to my staff, trailing a line of webbing into the tree tops.

  I pull the staff back, like hooking a fish and the line flexes and holds for a second then a hairy ball with legs flies down. I hold the staff back and line it up then swing, hitting the spider dead center. The staff blows straight through it, hairy bits raining down all over. A child screams as a web glob hits it. The lady dives, grabbing the child's legs and a tug of war begins. I step up and thrust forward above the child, looping the webbing around the end of my staff and swing back, reeling in my catch. Swinging back rains more hairy parts over the clearing. I put myself between the kids and where the spiders shot from.

  "Go backwards, slowly." I command those behind me. I hear them scurry backwards as a large hairy form drops into the clearing. This spider is huge, the size of a horse but with none of its the redeeming features. It raises up on its hairy back legs, venom dripping from its fangs and those eight red eyes staring at me. And me with no fire to kill it. Three quick tinkling words behind me and grass grows and wraps around the spider’s leg. Never one to look a gift horse in the mouth (horses are good, see) I strike. My overhead swing connects right between those beady red eyes. Just to make sure, I hit it a few more times while it's twitching away. I hear a screech up in the tree tops. Time to be elsewhere.

  I turn and grab the woman’s hand and start running the other way. I start to lead them away and then skid to a halt.

  "Basket! Berries!" and jump back to the clearing. I slide under a glob of web and grab the basket and leap back towards the edge of the clearing. I toss it toward the woman.

  "The berries are here - get them - then we run." Two more globs shoot out. A swing and a miss. Gloop on my thigh and a tug. Not too hard, all still good. Other leg gets globbed as I stop one with the staff. Oh shit. Another horse sized spider lands in the clearing, five little ones on its back, three trying to reel me in. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes. I run forward and jump.

  Don't know about you, but I have attended a total of one martial arts class outside of my army reserve basic training. Kicking was never really covered, I was more of a knife guy. Against other humans. Not spiders. This one rears back as well so I give it is prize. I let go of the staff and it shoots forward, hitting the spider’s forelimbs. My leap only got me half way as I crash to my knees. As the spider staggers, I cross draw the mace and dagger. The dagger flashes as it cuts downwards at the strands. I get to my feet as the spider is still entangled with the staff and webbing, stumbling left and right.

  I swing across my body with the mace, hairy explosion is my reward as one of the little ones leaps into my strike. I punch out with my left hand, forgetting the dagger there and hitting the next one. It latches onto my arm, fangs digging into the armor. However, it doesn't penetrate the layers of cotton and linen in the gambeson. The large one is lunging, and I punch with my spider fist again. I hit near the mouth, the little spider attached to my arm being forced onto the larger one’s fangs. I pull my fist back as the mace comes down widely. I miss the spiders head and snap off the limb, mouth, teeth? the other fang is attached to.

  More screeching in my ears as I backhand swing across my body, hoping to hit anything. Something breaks on the spider from my attack and I start swinging for dear life, back and forth. I step over my staff and keep swinging and hitting. The spider attempts to leap backwards and instead stumbles and rolls over, little screeches stopping at that. It rights itself with baneful red eyes as I flick up my staff with a foot. As it hangs in the air, I hook the mace to my belt.

  "Surprise." Sometimes things go right. I throw the dagger with my left hand and it impacts just to the right of its eyes. It screech's again and I sweep the staff in a wide low arc, passing through all its legs, cracking as it goes. Backswing goes up a little then down onto the prone body. Green ichor sprays out.

  I stab down on a crawling hair ball, making sure all five little ones are truly gone. I open my right hand and wave it around the clearing, urging the spirita aqua to me. It works! The little blue crystal balls fly at my hand and numbness shoots up the arm and into the chest. I turn to face my audience as a long arrow pierces my shoulder, knocking me from my feet, screaming as I fall

  "Shielder and three new slaves. Thank you for taking care of those vermin for us.

  Chapter Nine

  Rolling on the clearing floor in pain I listen to the conversation while the pain throbs in my shoulder.

  "You shot him."

  "So, he can't escape."

  "We can't charm him now idiot."

  "Who cares, not like I'll be allowed near him."

  "Hag."

  "Bitch."

  "Seriously you two, check for more spiders then wrap him up. The gobbers will be back soon. I want to steal their prize and be gone."

  "Yes Arrin."

  "Yes Arrin, Sorry Arrin."

  "Get to it."

  Something moves through the clearing, but not with footsteps. Slithering. Snakes? Giant fucking snakes? I roll over, right hand trying to stem the blood from my left shoulder. I see a blonde and a brunette sliding towards me on snake bodies. One is shouldering a bow and the other is putting a slightly curved sword in a sheath on her side. The third has a similar sword out across the grey woman’s throat, kids huddling in fear at her feet.

  Adrenaline gives me stupid ideas and I tend not to argue - it knows what it’s doing. I stagger up and turn to flee, making sure I'm in front of the archer. She shoots forward to grab me and I fall back into her arms, my hand sliding along the shaft through my shoulder. As she hugs me, I jam the shaft backwards and into her. As it bites into her, I kick my feet out, falling on my arse. The arrow slides down her body, snapping off on the way down, point buried in her. I yank out what's left of the shaft, focusing around the pain I scream and roll to the side and to my feet.

  The archer is grabbing her stomach, moaning 'no' over and over as the downward cut spills her intestines and guts out. Her friend screams at me in rage drawing that wicked curved sword and striking in one motion. I dodge mostly backwards, gambeson and leather flying away from my thigh. Her swing connects with her friend, cutting into scales. The brunette roars in horror at what she did and throws herself at me, sword forgotten. I leap at her. One leg doesn't work but I get the arrow shaft out in front
of me. It slides along her skin as she grabs me. Hatred rages over her face, so I do what most men would do. I kiss her.

  It's a Glasgow kiss, or a Manchester Kiss. I smash my forehead down on her nose and don't stop as her snake half coils around me. Blood cakes my vision as I slip to the ground, coils unfolding around me.

  "Thank you for that. Now the glory will be all mine. I just might heal you first and get my reward early." I spin to the voice. The same blonde lamia from before is grinning, sword still unmoving at the throat of the grey woman. She looks at her fallen comrades as I fumble to draw a dagger from my back sheath.

  "Such spirit. You can barely stand. If you had levels, you might be dangerous. First day Shielder is as weak as they get." Did she say levels? What?

  I try wiping blood from my forehead to see better. The forest behind the lamia is moving, ever so slightly. Eyes appear behind her. Blue eyes. Eight blue eyes, each slightly smaller as they go up, very close together. A head appears behind the lamia, finger to its lips. Redhead, freckles and eight blue eyes. She smiles, and her mouth opens wide, too wide as sharp teeth with fangs slide down. She? grabs the lamia's head, wrenches it to the side and bites down and through her throat, blood spurting. That's it for me. No more internet today as I crash to the ground and the darkness that beats it.

  "I'm out of healing Student." The voice sounds mature. My head hurts and I can't seem to move, but I feel no restraints.

  "That's fine Nir. The bleeding has stopped. I've finished weaving the bandages. Let me sew him up." Younger voice, almost an English lilt, maybe Irish?

  "You need any of the Star berries?" I feel a small pin prick at my legs, with fast steady fingers working needle and thread.