Terror POV
I marched my troops at double time (A marching pace of 180 three-foot steps per minute) (start left-left -left-right / right foot is pivot foot in general you never turn unless its on the right foot) I marched my men through both Hearth and Mavid resupplying and checking equipment in both places. In Mavid I had all my troops go through a quick basic health check ( broken bones/ visible issues/ sick) those that were too messed up were left at Mavid to help guard as they recovered. In skirmish I had with the goblins recently I lost seventeen of the Pls and a couple of my regulars were wounded. I marched out of Mavid with ninety eight regulars and two hundred and eighty three Pls.
Now in general the settlements of the empire are in the valleys and other areas that offer better agriculture and hunting. Some villages like Stone Cast are however there for the material resources: iron, stone, ect... so if supply is cut off as low as Eflin, large portions of such villages will die off before they can get resupplied.
But such a weakness in an empire is to be expected when 80% of produced food comes from the capital . Stock piling food however is never an issue, for obvious reasons.
I left Mavid in the evening and used a close marching pattern, didn't want to lose troops in this waste. About four or five hours after leaving Mavid I could see the glow of their fires. Their camp was huge it had to be a cluster of tribes. I based this on fire count, however even though I doubt goblins are smart enough to build multiple fires per group to mislead their numbers. (The reason why you should be able to gauge an army/ camp size by the number of fires is because a fire only has as many people as can sleep around it with in its heat so about six humans to eight or nine goblins. In the waste flammable material is hard to come by so fires would be down to the minimum)
There was at least two thousand fires so about sixteen to eighteen thousand goblins, no way was I even going to try to fight them. I sent reports back and ordered a tight entrenchment on the little hill I was looking at their camp from. I couldn't engage, but I couldn't just let them run off either. The good thing however is that ice is easy to build with and yet a study structure. We spent the night (myself included)
digging a half circle trench around the hill. The front was to steep to be scaled so they would have to come around and then come up. The ice and snow we got was used to build a low wall directly behind the trench. The trench was dug four feet down and four feet wide, so our wall was six feet tall with a two foot standing area behind it. On our standing area I placed a very thin layer of hides over top of it all the way around. ( prevents slipping on the ice) my men I had pitch their tents in a circle around the rest of the hill then pile the sides with snow all the way up creating some very deformed igloos. In these we started our fires. ( ice is a strangely very strong insulation for heat ) we had a short breakfast as dawn broke. The sounds of the enemy camp braking to prepare to move out were loud and striking In the frigid morning. Looking around I could see the tired, but determined looks on the faces of my men. I knew that if we did not get the reinforcements we would all die. Yet I had a strong faith in Khione, she would send aid and we could together crash a large part of the problems that plague our country. Ordering the Pls the the wall and the regulars to the hill I ordered the attack, or should I say the beginning of a long day of pesky harassment. ( regulars have stronger crossbows so they can fire at a better distance)
The crack of the bolts as they took flight, the glint of the sunlight as it reflected off of the bolts, then the screams as they fell into the camp like a rain death, well drizzle, The bolts hit about thirty percent of the time, which is quite fine by me as I just wanted to cause damage and really piss them all off.
Another way to long at goblins is like a really ugly dog with a bone, once they get a whiff of it they can't stop till they get it.
The horde broke apart quickly coming out with weapons of all sorts, including bows. Which I will admit scared me a little even though only about one out of every ten had one that is still about one thousand six hundred archers. But my fears shorted out when their tremendous volley of arrows fell far
below our perch to thud into the side of our mound. Our return fire however down another twenty-twenty five of them. Their screeches of rage were becoming quite loud. After another couple of attempts with the bows they swarmed. No other word for it, they had no formation, just a mob of uglies
This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.
in a few short minutes thy reached our wall and began piling into the trench. The Pls fired down into them as quickly as possible not even bothering to aim, but as the bodies stacked up the dead began to slowly fill the trench. It would not be long until they came over the wall. Leaving those at the top of the hill to shot down into the horde I went back and join the Pls they were holding well enough. The bodies were still an issue, running back I grabbed a couple of regulars and had to go to the tents and fetch the cooking oil we had. It came in jars and had a tight canvas cover, canvas I knew is very flammable, taking them back to the wall I spread them around and told the men to liberally torch the horde. Picking a couple up I used my upper right hand to light one which I tossed out into the mass and watched it shatter and ignite catching seven or eight of them alight, the screams increased tenfold as the burning began to rampage and some way to lay down in the snow, but they were so tightly packed together that they couldn't, not that it would have helped as it was an oil fire. After my initial throw my men began as well and a sea of flames awoke before us, the flames spreading across the horde with a vengeance, the smell of burning flesh repugnant and sickeningly sweet filled the air, a thick black smoke rose from those who burned, the screams now a deafening cry. Yet still they pressed forward at us,
the fires had reached the trench and with the bodies there as fuel it melted our walls down to about four feet in height, but soon the fires burned out, a good fourth of their forces burned, and yet we still had no
chance at victory, the bodies filled the trench again and slowly forged a ramp to our wall as it got close they began to try and climb over switching to morning stars the melee began, but as they gained perches on the wall my men began to die.
Terror-
FALL BACK TO THE REGULARS!!
BACK!!
those who could broke away those who could not were already dead swarmed over and ripped apart. The goblins consuming the flesh of the dead wounded and dying. My eyes swam from the smoke and my ears rang from the shouts of victory and the cries of the dying.
We were now backed onto the hill
Terror-
SHIELD WALL!!
THREE ROWS!!
SIXTY COLUMNS!!
the regulars formed the first and part of the second row and it was barely linked when they slammed into us. We slide back a good six feet from the shear weight behind the push, quite a few of those who had been in the front of the goblin horde died smashed into our shield by their own. We began to push back and so hold our ground, but even that didn't last for long they climbed onto each other and dived on top of us at first they just slid off the shields of the back rows, they increased the in numbers and soon they stated to fall through, those were killed quickly, but not fast enough the gaps widened and they poured in. some of my men began jumping from the cliff to die down below rather than risk being eaten alive, myself and the regulars didn't have that luxury we were surrounded. Braking from the back row I killed a couple behind me, turned, ran and jumped my men sweeping my blade as I landed, knowing we would not last long, I attacked, my troops broke and fallowed me howling like demons we fell on the goblins without regard, we are dead-men we have nothing left to lose, but their was no way we were dying alone, no by the gods we would take as many of the bastards with us as possible.
Wading into them I quickly lost sight of my men, yet oddly I didn't seem to care anymore. I was reaping souls, may they quake in the cold of Niflheim. My blade cut out legs, slashed throats, bit into backs, ripped entrails, and cleaved through chests, everything a blur, I felt myself breaking apart,
as I doggedly moved forward cutting the legs underhand finish, twist duck and cut; half step short jump
striking down, my vision was a blur of blood and smoke, feeling yet another stab from behind I turned
and took a blow to the back of my head staggering I fell to my knees swayed a bit, and slowly looked up.
The lost thing I saw was a heavy studded club smashing into my face. everything was black, yet
I could hear them, I could hear the deep walking drums. Deep in the south they boomed