The Goblin Horde

by Ivan Kal

  “You would let us roam freely in your lands? Without needing anything in return?” Daniela asked.

  “I would,” Morgan said.

  The chieftains looked thoughtful, and then exchanged a few looks amongst themselves. Finally, Marcus spoke. “We have much to think about. We shall retire to our people and think on this. You will have our answer tomorrow.”

  Morgan bowed his head in agreement.

  Karissa stepped forward and cleared her throat. “If your people have need of any supplies, you are more than welcome to trade with us. The town gate will be open for any of your people who wish to do so.”

  The chieftains bowed their heads and left the room.

  Morgan turned to look at the others. “A month, and then they come.”

  The others’ response came only in the form of somber looks on their faces.

  INTERLUDE V

  Korvorok spent the next two years of his life as the Chieftain of his tribe. During that time he had become quite accustomed to the goblin life. He raided other races, killed monsters, and fought against other tribes. Quickly he became accustomed to this primitive manner of life, even as his hatred grew. He saw the arrogance of the other races, their disgust with the goblin kind, and he slaughtered them for it.

  As his name spread, his tribe grew. Other free tribes would come—some to join, others to challenge him. But Korvorok won every battle. He had become quite proficient with wielding his simple weapon, aided much by the construct inside of his head. With every ascension he could upgrade himself, and he had focused on power above all else. His tribe was traveling the lands of the world, making sure to avoid the lands belonging to larger Guilds. He had learned early on that his tribe was nothing but a nuisance for the Guilds that ruled this world, and that even a single of their ascended could wipe them all out.

  And so he took his tribe west, following the words of a valley where the Guilds had no influence, where there were only weak humans. He had learned of many tribes living in the mountains north of the valley, and a plan had formed inside of his head. Korvorok wanted to gain strength, to rule, and to eventually take his revenge: first on the arrogant races that thought his kind nothing but monsters, then on the human that had condemned him to this life.

  It took them eight months to reach the valley and head to the north, where many free tribes lived. Korvorok could already see it inside of his mind. He would gather all the tribes to himself become a Goblin King, and then he would take the valley. If he couldn’t have his revenge on the human that had cursed him to this existence, then he would wreck this world as much as he possibly could.

  Korvorok pivoted and brought his great sword down, cutting into the other chieftain and cleaving him nearly in half. The goblin had a look of shock on his face as Korvorok took his sword out of him. Then he turned around and met the attack of the second chieftain, parrying the blow of his large two-handed hammer. The third goblin chieftain, wielding two battle axes, tried to get around Korvorok and attack from his blind spot—but Korvorok was ready. As he pushed the hammer-wielding chieftain back, he stomped his foot on the ground and a crack opened up, swallowing the chieftain’s foot and making him fall.

  Korvorok snapped into action, pirouetting and swinging his sword from the side. He saw the look of surprise and denial on the goblin chieftain’s face as Korvorok’s sword cut into his neck and took his head clean off.

  The last remaining chieftain roared and attacked, his hammer falling down to smash Korvorok’s head. But he was faster—Korvorok dodged the blow, allowing the hammer to smash into the ground with a resounding crash that splintered the stone floor. Then he retaliated, his sword coming up from below in an underhanded swipe that took the chieftain’s arm at the shoulder. The chieftain screamed and Korvorok advanced, his sword stabbing into the chieftain’s chest.

  The last goblin chieftain died on his sword, and Korvorok kicked him clean off his blade. Then he looked around at the silent goblins, shamans and chieftains that had watched the fight.

  “Is there anyone else?” Korvorok yelled out, only for his words to be met with silence. “Then all of you will accept me as your chieftain!”

  The cheer started slowly, but it built up to a massive thundering noise as goblins stomped their feet and screamed their acceptance. Korvorok smiled and looked at his new followers. There were more free tribes here in the mountains that had not accepted his invitation, but Korvorok would get them all. He had even learned that there were tribes of ogres, a race of dimwitted sentients that would be useful to Korvorok’s plans as well. But there was time for him to gather them all—time was the one thing he now had in abundance.

  His smile grew even wider as he saw a notification pop up in his vision.

  Congratulations! You are now a Goblin King! Ascend to learn more!

  Korvorok saw that he had enough points to ascend, and he immediately did so. Arriving inside of his soul space he quickly assigned his points and checked his skills and abilities. He saw that he had two new skills: the first was Will of a King, which allowed him to exert his willpower over other goblins far more than the simple compulsion a chieftain was able to achieve. Korvorok grinned, that would be a great aid in his uniting of the tribes. He didn’t know why the human that had done this to them had put such skills into his people, but now it would serve him in his plans. He was a King now, and as soon as he united all the tribes in the mountains he would spill his horde into the valley, taking over the territory and forging a goblin nation. Only then would he become a Goblin Overlord and be a step closer to achieving his goals.

  Korvorok then glanced at the other skill he had gained and frowned. He saw the skill, but didn’t understand why he had been given it. Why now? He had searched for a skill such as this before, when he had just woken up on this world, years ago. The skill was Language-Basic and it allowed him to speak the language of the other races. As soon as he saw it, he could feel the old rage growing. He was certain that this had only been given to him to mock him. He had spent so much time trying to get the other races to understand that he was not like the others of his kind, that he was not a monster. But now, when he had accepted his new fate, when he had done things that were terrible even by his own standards, now was when he had been granted a way of communicating?

  Korvorok raged at the construct floating next to him, but it did not respond. Finally, he left the soul space and returned to the real world. He glared at the goblins cheering around him and activated Will of a King. The entire mass stopped their cheering in an instant. They stared at Korvorok without moving a muscle, silent, attentive, obeying his will.

  He stared at them, and then turned to look over the cliffs and the valley spreading before him. He couldn’t lash out at his captor, at his judge—but he could slaughter his people instead.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  The day after, Morgan was in the Great Hall with the rest of the Guild Leaders. Their circle now numbered seven: Titus, Clara, Ves, Vall, Karissa, Lucius, and Morgan. Karissa was the lowest level among them, as she had just ascended, but she was there nonetheless because of her administrative skills.

  They sat around the main table close to the hearthstone and tried to come up with a plan of action. Lucius and Morgan had spoken at length about the preparations for the goblin threat; aside from leveling people up, they had been planning on how to bring the battle to the goblins. But they had thought that they had more time—Morgan had a few ideas, but he didn’t know if he would be able to figure everything out quickly enough.

  “We need eyes on them,” Morgan told Lucius. “I want all patrols reassigned north to find the goblins and keep track of them. One group should always follow them, while the others scout the area in front of them for any places suitable for an ambush. I also want one group always moving back and forth between the north and Reach, bringing us word of their movements.”

  Morgan could feel a kind of exhilaration bubbling up deep inside. Planning fights was what he did best. With time to pre
pare and tools at his disposal, he was sure that he could come up with something to hurt the goblins hard.

  “I shall do so,” Lucius said.

  “We will also need to accelerate the upgrade of the walls,” Morgan said.

  Karissa looked at him with a bit of trepidation. “You really think that they will attack the town?”

  “I intend to make them attack it,” Morgan said. “This is where we are strongest, and where we have the home-field advantage. I can plan for far more here than someplace out in the wild. But don’t worry—before they come here, all those unable to fight will be evacuated to the Guild Hold. The stone walls there will not fall easily.”

  That reminded Morgan to check the hearthstone, as they would need to use it to build the walls around the entire plateau. He remembered how goblins climbed the wooden palisade at Terbon, and knew they would probably be able to do the same to the mountain itself.

  Karissa nodded uncertainly.

  “Titus, we are going to be spending a lot of time in the workshop. I have some ideas that I want to start testing out as soon as possible, and we are going to need Artos and his apprentices at hand.”

  Titus took a deep breath. “Of course.”

  Morgan couldn’t help but smile at the man. He had come a long way from the scared, screaming low-level ascended he had been.

  Morgan turned to look at Vall and Ves. “I need you to increase training for the guard and all the non-ascended that can fight. They might not be strong enough to stand up to them one on one, but they will help. They can always just shoot arrows.”

  The twins nodded their heads, agreeing.

  Finally Morgan looked at Clara, who had remained unusually quiet. “What do you think your people’s decision will be?”

  Clara grimaced, but then shook herself. “They are not my people anymore. But I…I don’t know. I think they will fight. We have been driven out of our homes many times in the past.” She sighed with a shake of her head before reiterating, “I think they will fight.”

  “Well, we should know their answer soon enough,” Morgan said. They moved the discussion forward, with everyone giving their opinion on what more they could do to prepare. In the end, they decided to send a call to every town and village for people who wanted to fight. They didn’t need them to ascend, but just having a person with a bow in hand would be a great help. Thankfully, they had more than enough bows from all the battles they’d already had with the goblins.

  Still, while the number of their ascended had increased as more of the non-ascended people living in the Reach Town had agreed to ascend, the number remained low.

  They were going to be greatly outnumbered.

  The response from the orc tribes came a few hours later, when Chieftain Marcus of the Forest Tribe arrived to the Guild Hold. He was escorted to the Great Hall, where Morgan and the rest waited.

  “Welcome, chieftain, to our Guild Hold,” Morgan said.

  “Thank you, Guild Master,” Marcus intoned. He glanced at Clara, who was sitting at the table, and for a moment Morgan thought he detected a trace of something in his eyes, but it was gone to quickly for him to identify it.

  “Do you have an answer for us?” Morgan asked.

  “I do,” Marcus said slowly. “My people do not enjoy dancing around the truth. What you offered us was little, as we already live freely in the north—but, all the other Guilds require us to pay to pass through their lands, and so the offer appeals to us more for what it could mean for us in the future, if you ever manage to grow larger. We debated, and we have decided,” Marcus declared. “Of the four tribes, three are in agreement. The Wolfhowl Tribe, the Riverbank Tribe, and my own tribe will stay and fight with you. Erik and his Stonehoof Tribe will travel beyond the pass.”

  Morgan released the breath he hadn’t noticed he was holding. “Thank you.”

  Marcus nodded. “All together, our three tribes have two hundred and four warriors, while the rest are the elderly and children. The warriors will fight with your ascended, but we ask for you to let them rest inside your walls.”

  “Of course,” Morgan said. Reach Town had a lot of room for expansion. There was a gap of almost a hundred meters between the walls and where the town began—there was room for the orc tribes’ tents, although they would have to be careful with where they placed them, as Morgan and Lucius had a plan for the clearing in case the walls were breached.

  “Good, then I shall go and inform our people. We will be available for any planning sessions you may have, and we offer the service of our scouts if you have need of them. They are familiar with the north, as well as the dangers of the goblins.”

  “We shall speak soon,” Morgan said with a nod. “In the meantime, Karissa here will help your people get organized and settled inside the walls.” Morgan gestured to the woman, who stood and then followed the orc chieftain out.

  “Two hundred orc warriors…” Lucius said. “We are still desperately outmatched.”

  “Then we need to increase our odds,” Morgan said cryptically.

  A few hours later, Morgan was huddled over a table in the workshop with Titus. On the table was a small leather pouch and a metal plate standing next to it, which they were in the process of engraving.

  “Are you sure that this is wise?” Titus asked. “I don’t know how much this will help.”

  “Trust me,” Morgan said. “If we get this right, it will be devastating.”

  The leather pouch was the size of a basketball, and the plate round and just large enough to close the top of the pouch. Morgan had had this idea for a while now, but he’d thought that he would have time to experiment a bit more before putting it into practice.

  “And why do we need all this junk?” Titus asked, gesturing at the crates filled with all kind of waste from the forge, scraps, and small, seemingly useless pieces of metal.

  “That’s the most important part,” Morgan said. “But first we need to finish this fireball engraving.”

  Morgan was attempting to make an engraving that was an adapted version of the flare engraving that Titus had created before. However, he also needed to make it able to trigger either on timer or on impact, something they hadn’t yet figured out how to do.

  Morgan was just about to start engraving another glyph when someone entered the workshop. Raising his eyes, they saw it was Lucius.

  “You have a moment?” Lucius asked.

  Morgan put his tools down and nodded, then turned to Titus. “Keep thinking on a way to make it timed.”

  “Sure, sure,” Titus said with a wave of his hand.

  Morgan walked out and followed Lucius a few steps behind the workshop. “What is it?”

  “The patrol from beyond the pass has returned,” Lucius said.

  “And?” Morgan asked. “Will the Guilds help us?”

  “They visited the first town beyond the pass—it belongs to the Omen Guild, and they explained what was happening and that we need help.” Lucius sighed. “They laughed in their faces, Morgan. From what they reported back, at first they thought that they had faked their guild marks, as they had never seen a mark like ours. After our people explained and they checked their marks, they decided that we were fools for building a Guild here and refused to help.”

  Morgan sighed—this was what he had expected, but it was still disappointing. Since he had come here, he had been hearing stories about what the Guilds were like, and from what he had heard he could tell that they were self-interested above everything else.

  “It doesn’t matter. We fight either way,” Morgan said.

  “I’ve talked with the orc chieftains a bit. Their scouts will be joining ours when they set off tomorrow, and we should start getting information about a week from now.”

  “Good. I want them looking for any places where we can make an ambush. Moving that large of an army must limit the routes they can take. If we can predict where they will pass through, we can hit them when they expect nothing,” Morgan said.

  “I wi
ll pass it on,” Lucius said, “but we will still need a miracle if we are to survive. The numbers that the orcs mention are…”

  “How large?”

  “Thousands,” Lucius told him.

  Morgan grimaced. In the end, it was all a numbers game. The higher leveled ascended were worth more than the goblins—he just needed to orchestrate a situation where that would have the most impact.

  “They are only united because of the Goblin King,” Morgan said thoughtfully. “If we manage to take him out…”

  “That might just split the army into a hundred smaller raiding parties, making it impossible to stop them all,” Lucius said.

  “Then we need to terrify them enough so that they run back to their mountains,” Morgan said.

  “And you think we can do that?”

  “We will most certainly try,” Morgan said resolutely. They had no other choice.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Morgan sat on the wall of Reach Town, his legs dangling over. They had upgraded the walls far ahead of what Morgan thought would be possible—but then again, Morgan always somehow forgot that all ascended were basically superhuman. Work went fast when they all worked together. The walls surrounding the town now resembled more traditional walls instead of a simple palisade, except that they were made out of wood. There were battlements with parapets all along the length of the wall, with four towers set at equal distances from one another—aside from the two smaller ones which were on the gate. Morgan was gazing at the fields in front of the walls and the people working there on his orders. There was a commotion all around, with people working behind him as well. The clearing that existed beyond the wall and before where the town actually began was filled with people, all working on defenses and other preparations by Morgan’s order.