Typhus’s shadow self was skirting the boundaries of the battlefield. It’s goal was to gather more intel for Typhus and the other adventurers back in the town. Curving around another tree, it finally had a clear line of sight to the makeshift altar and the tall goblin with the staff. The Orc was yelling at the tall goblin and gesturing wildly at the village walls. It then barked some orders and a line of goblins in thick leather armor began advancing across the battlefield. The shadow watching all this was relaying the information back to Typhus in real time.
Atop the walls a horn was blown and the Deep Dwellers within filed out in front of the gates. Each was brandishing their preferred weapon as they formed battle lines three deep in a half moon shape. They set their feet in preparation for what looked like a goblin charge.
“Steady lads. The old enemy has appeared again. We give them no ground save the dirt we bury them in,” said Typhus walking and up and down the lines.
“For house Bloodbeard!” cried out a section of the line.
“For house Smitehammer!” came from another section.
“Are they wearing armor?” asked another who was not chanting.
“It wouldn’t matter if they were in plate mail, we kill them all for what was done to our ancestral home,” Typhus called back as he grit his teeth and planted his feet. He would see these green skinned bastards pay for all the pain his people have endured these last hundred years.
All of sudden the goblins stopped their advance. They all took a knee and crossbow bolts peppered the line of Deep Dwellers. They were small and barbed. Not meant for killing but wounding their targets. If they stopped to take them out, gashes would open up and seep with blood. Not everyone was hit but enough of the line groaned with minor puncture wounds. That’s when the ground began to rumble and pitch back and forth. The wall showed cracks were it was recently prepared as a wave earth started just in front of the kneeling goblins headed toward the town.
“Fall back behind the walls!” Typhus shouted gesturing them all back, but it was too late.
The walls began to crumble as the wave hit tossing Deep Dwellers around like acorns bouncing off a roof. All the archers on the walls were trapped between rubble and their comrades. More flashes could be seen from the tree line by any left standing as unarmored goblins began racing across the field. The goblins also had stealth types appear shortly after the quake and they began savaging the recovering defenders behind what used to be the wall. The fighting now spilled into the streets of the town.
Typhus was one of the first back to his feet. He whipped the legs out from under one of the armored goblins and slit its throat as it hit the ground. Not wiling to stop there, with eyes filled with rage, he stabbed out at another catching it under the right arm pit as it went to slice at him. In less than a minute Typhus had downed two of them as the rest of his defenders were getting to their feet. He’d never seen magic that could take down an entire town’s walls outside of massive war workings. Goblins were still bouncing off of the debris left over from Farmageddon, but more just kept coming.
“We have a big problem,” Tantus said still looking at the sand table.
“What is it?” Sophie asked.
“It appears the walls have fallen, Ms. Sophie. Fighting is spilling out into the town. There is some slightly better news, I can feel master Deacon heading this way,” replied Alfred staring off to the north.
“We need to get out there right now,” Tantus said grabbing a bag from a hook on the wall.
Ralph just leapt from the staircase down to the floor and sprinted for the door. Tantus and Sophie just took the stairs. Amanda was nowhere in sight. Hani Al-Hamdani saw the commotion and stopped his juggling performance racing over to meet Sophie and Tantus on their way out.
“What’s going on?” Hani asked.
“The fighting has spilled into town. Now would be a good time to take off that hat of yours,” Tantus said bursting through the door at the top of the stairs.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
Tantus opened the back door of the Inn looking for a higher vantage point. There were several homes in this back alley but no easy way up. Hani following his gaze put his jester hat on then flicked his arm toward Tantus telekinetically floating him to the roof of the building he was looking at. Tantus looked back at Hani with one arched eyebrow.
“Can’t tell you all my secrets now, can I?” joked Hani as he took off down the alley toward the sound of fighting.
Tantus looked back over the north end of town where he could see flashes from the tree line. He figured he could take a page out of Deacon’s play book and cause a Deactastrophe of his own. Gathering his will, he focused a lightning spell on that location. His mind sharpened in that instant, drawing out his mana and dropping a jagged spear of light from the sky on the enemy’s position. He hoped Deacon would get the message.
Deacon was running south hoping everything was alright with his friends. He hadn’t had time to practice this particular form of running in the Wode with all the danger and trickster gods around. Deacon maintained his ghost form allowing him to pass through things that would normally trip up someone moving at high speed. He was quite pleased with the results. Covering this distance at speed would be almost impossible for someone with a constantly depleting stamina bar but he didn’t have to worry about that. That was when he heard some rumbling from the direction, he was travelling in. Shortly thereafter a bright bolt of lighting struck down from a clear and sunny sky.
“That has to be Tantus,” he thought as he poured on the speed making a b-line towards the lighting strike.
Deacon’s mind raced thinking about what this could mean. If Tantus was fighting, then things had gone wrong. There should have been enough defenders there to handle some pesky goblins. He could have saved his mana to heal those in need. With that thought in mind Deacon poured on the speed passing through downed trees, boulders, branches, and shrubbery.
Typhus was panting heavily surrounded by dead goblin corpses. He’d been at the tip of the spear as they called a fighting retreat. They were about to be surrounded at one point when Ralph showed up and culled a line of darker skinned stealthy goblins with one Hallowed Blade slash from behind them. Once he waded into the throng of goblins, morale for the defenders got another boost. When Sophie appeared she activated her shield knight tattoos. They leapt forward making a shield wall and opening it only to let the wounded past. It was only three ink knights wide, but it was enough to block sling stones and the occasional crossbow bolt. They began drawing the goblins between buildings to prevent being swept over by their numbers.
“Was that lighting bolt from the enchanter?” Typhus asked pulling his blade free from his most recent kill.
“I think so,” Ralph answered fending off another stab.
“He needs to get his eyes checked, the fight is here,” Amanda said dropping from a roof in a crouch with a goblin under her to break her fall. She held the ghost blade from the Nether realm in her right hand. The blade was about five inches long and partially see through with slight whips of mist peeling off it.
“You probably shouldn’t use that blade so casually. It gives me the creeps,” Sophie commented focusing back on the battle in front of them.
“The little mage’s placement was perfect. There is a tree on fire right above where they erected that blasphemous altar. The tall goblin witch doctor is trying to put out the fire. You see, when something is constructed that hastily, there is a good chance it’ll just fall apart and consume all your attention,” grinned Typhus.
Typhus’s shadow shelf jumped from shadow to shadow until it was just ten feet behind the tall goblin. It was primed to strike when the Orc turned to the tall goblin and began to speak in a language Typhus didn’t know. That meant the shadow also didn’t know it. The tall goblin waved him off as it attempted to douse the flames near the altar with a water skin. The Orc having reached his limit sprinted across the battlefield straight toward the town. The shadow saw this as a perfect opportunity. It skulked behind the tall goblin and drove a shadow dagger right into it’s back. The goblin screamed as blast of purple and black energy radiated out in all directions around it. One of the small skulls on his waist crumbled to dust. Typhus’s shadow self was dispelled as the altar was blown to bits. The Orc with the tower shield stopped running and looked back as there was now a clear circle of barren earth where there once was trees.
Pumus was down on one knee. Apparently, there was an assassin in these woods that just tried to take his life. His Death of the Innocent talisman had saved him. He looked around for the fools body but found nothing. He was the only thing in this new clearing. With the altar gone and all the available warriors committed to the attack, there was nothing more he could do here. It was time to return to the fort at the pass and draw more information from that Dwarf who tried to run his caravan through the partially constructed fort. Pumus looked up to see that Ferick of the black guard, had stopped. The pompous ass insisted on abandoning him to tend the altar with no protection. It was time to see how he liked being abandoned. Pumus raised his staff and bore a hole in the reality. On the other side of the hole were more goblins moving around a fortified position and several cages of captives. Pumus stepped through and turned to see Ferick’s grimace as the hole closed.