Two Necromancers, a Dwarf Kingdom, and a Sky City

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Two Necromancers, a Dwarf Kingdom, and a Sky City Page 32

by L. G. Estrella


  “Careful,” her master shouted. “Conserve as much power as you can and remember we’re not here to remodel the landscape. Let the zombies do the work.” He gave Katie a hug. “It’s time for us to get to work. Remember, we’re going for a steady advance while we attack them with projectiles. If they charge, hold formation. If they break, use our faster zombies to run them down. Keep things tight. Organisation is the key.”

  “Right.”

  Katie could not exert fine control over as many zombies as her master. Perhaps no one in the world could. It was, after all, his most outstanding attribute as a necromancer. Instead, she focused on groups of zombies and gave them more general orders. It was still taxing, but it was manageable, and this was a great chance to get some experience. How often would she get to use so many zombies at once?

  As their zombies began to unleash a hail of projectiles – a combination of spikes, arrows, and the occasional spell or explosive courtesy of some demolition rats – the goblins reacted with fury. They surged forward in a vast, undulating wave of angry green, screaming and yelling as they sprinted at the zombies. Their charge dissolved into bedlam as the first wave of spikes fell amongst them. Each spike exploded upon impact and unleashed a hail of razor-sharp bone fragments that ripped through goblin after goblin. With more than a dozen of the zombie lizards they could put upward of fifty spikes into the air every minute. Entire sections of the battlefield dissolved into clouds of blood and gore as the zombie lizards spread their attacks to terrifying effect. The deluge of arrows, magic, and explosives that accompanied the spikes only added to the mayhem.

  As the goblin charge faltered – the more intelligent goblins doing their best to shoot the spikes out of the air with magic or reform some semblance of a frontline – the zombie ogres stepped forward to take the brunt of the charge. Zombie ogres were truly menacing figures to begin with, but when they were clad in plate armour covered with runes and seals, they were downright terrifying. It would take siege weaponry or powerful offensive magic to bring them down, and with huge tower shields and war hammers larger than the goblins they were fighting, it didn’t take a genius to predict what would happen when the charging goblins ran into them.

  THUD.

  The zombie ogres simply waded into the first rank of goblins with their war hammers. Goblins went flying as the war hammers crushed bone, pulverised flesh, and shattered their forward momentum. As the next rank of goblins tried to close the gap, the ogres brought their shields around like clubs. The goblins hurtled back, their small frames no match for the overwhelming strength of the zombie ogres.

  Any goblin lucky enough to jump onto a zombie ogre swiftly found that all of the usual weak points were covered in armour. Worse, each zombie ogre had been assigned a few ninja rats to ensure its survival. The deadly rodents made short work of any boarders while using their weaponry and magic to add to the devastation, and the zombie ogres stood firm, sweeping their war hammers back and forth to crush the goblin assault. As the goblins’ charge disintegrated, the zombie soldiers began their advance, swords and spears at the ready. What they lacked in strength compared to the zombie ogres, they made up in discipline and organisation. The goblins found themselves faced with an implacable foe that did not fear their superior numbers and would never tire despite how many of them attacked. Slowly but surely, the wall of zombie soldier began to push the goblins back. Any pockets of resistance were smashed beneath the war hammers of the zombie ogres. With their charge in tatters and more projectiles raining down every moment, the goblin horde began to break despite its superior numbers.

  “See how they’re beginning to run?” her master asked. “It’s time to end this. Send in our lesser zombies to pursue them and begin animating any goblins you can. Have our flanks swing around to cut off their line of retreat.”

  Katie reached out with her magic to animate any goblins whose corpses could still be used. There weren’t as many as she would have liked, but soon, hundreds of dead goblins were back on their feet. She ordered them to pursue their former comrades and sent several waves of biters after the goblins as well. Shrieking and baying, the lesser zombies complied as the rest of the zombie army continued its advance. A few of the goblins’ surviving leaders tried to coordinate a proper counterattack, but they soon fell prey to Avraniel’s magic. Bereft of leadership and desperate to escape the zombies, the goblin horde soon descended into anarchy. The zombie soldiers took ruthless advantage of the chaos, hacking and chopping at goblin after goblin as the zombie ogres wrought carnage on any goblins unfortunate enough to face them. All the while, their ranged troops continued to fire away, and the steady stream of spikes, arrows, spells, and explosives thinned the horde even further.

  “This seems so unfair,” Katie murmured.

  Her master chuckled, and she knew he would have ruffled her hair if he could. “Katie, the whole point of fighting a battle is to make it as unfair as possible for your opponent. You want to stack up as many advantages as you can, whether it is in the quality and quantity of your troops and their training, equipment, and supplies or in the efficacy of your tactics and strategies. Stack up enough advantages and you win.”

  “I guess you’re right.” She winced as one of the zombie ogres brought its war hammer down in a tremendous blow that flattened a goblin. Elsewhere, Derrick, their zombie drake-salamander-roc, had descended and was busy turning entire swathes of the battlefield into fields of flame. “And winning is better than losing, especially in a situation like this.”

  Through the senses of some of her other zombies, she could hear ragged cheering from the dwarves as the goblins assaulting the forts and bridges realised their predicament. With the bulk of the goblin horde in total disarray, they were in serious danger of being cut off and sandwiched between the dwarves and the zombies. At the behest of some of their few remaining leaders, they began to retreat only to come under attack as Avraniel, Spot, and the other fliers swooped down on them.

  The sheer scale of the battle boggled her mind. The goblins had brought down hundreds of their zombies – mostly biters and zombie soldiers – but they had taken thousands of casualties in return. More importantly, the flanks of their zombie army had managed to swing around in time to cut off the goblins’ line of retreat. They were trapped.

  “Their mistake,” her master murmured. “Was attacking out in the open. I suppose it was necessary since Cavernholme isn’t connected to any other cities by tunnels, but goblins are not at their best in large-scale engagements unless they can surround and panic their enemies. Zombies don’t panic, and our position, formation, and troop composition made it difficult for them to break us in the charge or encircle us. Goblins are, for the most part, cowards. Once they saw they couldn’t panic our zombie ogres and zombie soldiers and realised how outmatched they were, I’m not surprised they decided to break and run for it. A goblin is usually more interested in saving itself than in holding the line for the others alongside it. With proper leadership, that isn’t always the case. A good leader can make a goblin horde extremely dangerous. It’s a good thing, then, that Avraniel has been busy killing all of their leaders.” His voice hardened. “Steel yourself, Katie. This is going to get bloody. The goblins won’t surrender, and we’re not about to offer them quarter either.”

  “I didn’t think we would, master.”

  Katie winced as the remaining goblin mages and shamans unleashed their magic in a desperate bid to clear an escape route. Hundreds of zombies fell, but the rest continued their solemn, relentless advance. Whatever siege weaponry the goblins had was turned on the zombies as well. However, their zombie fliers and the zombie lizards soon put a stop to it. The goblins were all trying to run now, but the zombie army had completed its manoeuvres. The goblins were completely encircled.

  “It’s not easy to watch,” her master admitted. “Even if they are goblins.”

  With the encirclement complete, the zombies hastened their advance. The goblins at the edges fought with desperate fury
, but they were tired and disorganised. They had no chance at all against the untiring waves of zombies. The goblins at the edges were cut down, and those behind them could only panic and grow more and more desperate as the zombies closed in. The animated bodies of the fallen only added to their horror, and Katie realised that more goblins were being killed by the crush of panicked bodies than by the blades of their zombies.

  “Oh, and one more word of advice.”

  “Master?”

  He pointed. “See that guy? Don’t be that guy.”

  A lone goblin had seized a banner and was busy waving it around in a bid to rally his fellows. However, his attempt at heroism came to an abrupt end when a well-placed strike from a war hammer turned him into bloody paste.

  “Ouch.”

  * * *

  Avraniel wandered across the battlefield with a scowl. Where was all the good loot? Sure, she’d found plenty of trinkets and knickknacks – goblins were fond of keeping whatever bits and pieces caught their interest – but there was hardly anything here worth taking. What was she supposed to do with a rusty dwarf sword that hadn’t been properly cared for in years? She’d also be lucky to get a single copper coin for the bone weapons many of the goblins favoured. And the less she thought about the pathetic excuses for armour most of the goblins wore, the better. Spot wasn’t having any luck either. He landed beside her and munched on a goblin for a few moments before tossing the creature aside with an unhappy sound.

  Yuck.

  “Doesn’t surprise me,” Avraniel muttered. “These little bastards are smelly, ugly, and stupid. It figures they’d taste bad too.” She rolled her eyes. “Maybe that’s why some dragons keep them around. They’re not even worth eating.”

  Spot growled at the thought of keeping goblins around. He had higher standards than that! A wounded goblin saw them and tried to crawl away, but he stomped down on its back. It went still, and a brief blast of flame incinerated another goblin that had tried to escape while his back was turned.

  “I can’t believe the dwarves lost to these idiots.” Avraniel glared at the body of another goblin. This one had a rusty spear. What good was that? “Although I guess there were a lot of them, and not all of them were completely stupid.”

  She had encountered groups of goblins that liked to build things and tinker before, but they were from somewhere else, and they tended to be far less aggressive than the stupider varieties. The smart ones usually stayed in their caves, preferring to fiddle with their gadgets, as opposed to plundering and raiding. She could live with those sorts of goblins. As long as they didn’t mess with her, she wouldn’t go out of her way to kill them.

  Her eyes narrowed. One of the dead goblins had a dwarf dagger that was still in good condition. She pried it out of his hands and examined the blade. It wasn’t bad, but she had better. She tossed the weapon to Spot, and the dragon happily devoured it. It wasn’t like she needed it, and she doubted he’d find much quality metal out here. “These damn goblins aren’t even worth robbing. Why couldn’t we fight some bastards with money?”

  “They are a horrid lot, aren’t they?”

  She turned. A group of dwarves had come out to greet her. They moved with the weariness of people who’d been fighting for days, and their armour was covered in blood and gore. Even so, the quality of their armour was easy to see. The plates of metal had been perfectly moulded to allow ease of movement while minimising vulnerability, and she could see many places where a goblin had managed to land a blow only to leave little more than a scratch or a small dent. Likewise, their helms were designed to maintain good visibility while still offering maximum protection.

  To make up for their short stature and reach, as well as their relative lack of mobility due to their preference for full armour, many dwarves wielded pikes, spears, or other similar weapons. However, given the possibility of close combat against the goblins, they also carried daggers, as well as swords, war hammers, and axes. She grinned. The quality of their weapons was excellent too. She’d have to see if she could get some later. She could make quite a bundle selling some on the open market.

  Spot padded over to her and growled. He didn’t know these people, and because he couldn’t see their faces, he was even more suspicious of them. It did not help that many dwarves had rough voices due to the harsh nature of their native tongue, which often heavily accented their speech, not that she cared. Unlike many elves, Avraniel didn’t have a problem with dwarves. Well, that wasn’t quite right. She had plenty of problems with plenty of dwarves, but not because they were dwarves. It was because they’d either gotten in her way or pissed her off somehow. On the upside, if a dwarf wanted to kill her, he’d have the guts to tell her to her face instead of flattering her and then stabbing her in the back like an elf. And, hey, lots of dwarves liked fire and explosions, so they weren’t all bad.

  “Easy, Spot.” Avraniel peered at the leader of the group. “You’re here to invite us into the city, right?”

  “Yes.” The dwarf inclined his head. “You and your companions have aided us in our darkest hour. Our king has personally extended an invitation to all of you. Enter Cavernholme and be made welcome!” She smiled. She could practically feel the glee radiating off the dwarf as he examined the carnage around them. “And I would like to personally extend my own thanks for sending so many of these goblin bastards screaming into the abyss. I may not be fond of elves or dragons, but I’ll make an exception for you two.” He tugged off his helm to reveal blue eyes and a thick beard of red hair. “I am Galdur Firebeard.” He removed one of his gauntlets and extended his hand. It was rough and callused – the hand of a warrior. “Welcome to Cavernholme.”

  She shook his hand. He had a strong grip. “Just call me Avraniel.” The dwarves stirred, and she smirked. They must have heard of her. Hopefully, it was all scary. “And he’s Spot.”

  “Spot, eh?” Galdur grinned. “An interesting name for a dragon.”

  “Because of the spot on his snout.” Spot pointed to it with one claw and smiled. To her delight, all of the stout-hearted dwarves took a step back except Galdur. Her lips curled. He wasn’t totally hopeless then. “And you wouldn’t be able to pronounce his other name anyway. Even most elves would struggle.”

  “I see.” Galdur hefted his axe over his shoulder. It was chipped and battered. Given its quality, he must have killed a lot of goblins with it. “We are to escort you into the city after you reunite with your comrades.” He glanced at the zombies that were roving over the battlefield in search of survivors. “That lot will have to stay out here.”

  “Fine by me.” Avraniel had gone looking for loot while the idiot and twerp finished cleaning up. The goblins had fought to the bitter end, but she had to hand it to the necromancers. They’d done a good job of wiping out those little bastards, and now their zombies stood sentry over the battlefield and fortifications. If there were any goblins still alive in this area, they wouldn’t be that way for long.

  It was also a not-so-subtle reminder for the dwarves. They had a reputation for trying to negotiate more favourable prices on everything, but having an army of zombies camped out on their doorstep was a good way to remind them of their obligations. Nothing in the world was free, and their help came at a price.

  “Let’s get going then.” She caught a flash of movement out of the corner of her eye and yanked a spear out of the body of a dead goblin. A casual motion lodged it in the head of a fleeing goblin more than fifty yards away. “There’s nothing good out here, anyway.”

  If only her magic hadn’t obliterated those goblins with better equipment. They had needed to die, but it would have been nice to take their equipment afterward. Oh well. She’d have to be more careful next time.

  As they made their way toward the city, Avraniel had to admit the dwarves knew how to build things. The forts on either side of the bridges were large and sturdy. Sure, some of them had fallen, but enough goblins could probably overwhelm any fortification. The fact that goblin corpses were p
iled high enough to serve as a ramp onto the battlements spoke volumes about how well the dwarves’ defences had worked.

  The others were already there, and Avraniel and Spot fell into step beside them. If things went south, sticking with them should work. She might not be invincible, but it was hard to imagine anyone getting past her, the people eater, the old guy, and everyone else. It also did not escape her notice that the dwarves were looking at Chomp in obvious excitement. The dog had accompanied Gerald, and they’d kept him away from the worst of the fighting. He wasn’t suited to it the way Spot was. Still, from the blood on his jaws, Chomp must have done some good work keeping the paper pusher safe.

  But why were they so excited to see him? Oh, yeah. According to the people eater, the dwarves had once had lots of dogs like Chomp. Well, they must not have them anymore, or they’d have used them against the goblins. She put one arm around Chomp and glared. The dwarves were in for a world of pain if they thought they could buy him or something. Chomp was her dog, and he wasn’t going anywhere. Besides, Spot would eat anyone who even thought of taking his friend away.

  The bridges over the chasms were marvels of engineering, and she was amused to realise they were better than anything the elves could build. Each bridge was equal parts solid and elegant, and the stones used in them were of the very finest quality. She could also feel the magic woven into the very fabric of each bridge. These were not bridges that could be destroyed by time or bad weather. A thousand years from now, they’d still be here looking every bit as impressive.

  But in a way, wasn’t having indestructible bridges kind of dumb? She had wondered why the dwarves hadn’t blown up the bridges once the goblins had begun to force them back. It wasn’t like the goblins could fly or jump over the chasms. But now she knew. They probably couldn’t. It was a shame. Destroying the bridges would have bought them days, maybe even weeks since goblins like these ones weren’t exactly known for their engineering. It was yet another example of both elves and dwarves being idiots in the same way. Both could take so much pride in something that they’d refuse to destroy it even if it was turned against them. Avraniel thought of the bow on her back. It was a great weapon, and she wouldn’t enjoy destroying it, but if someone used it against her, she wouldn’t hesitate if that was the only way she could win. Getting killed with her own weapon would be such a stupid way to die.

 

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