"Do you have any idea how much effort it takes to instill discipline in goblins?" The silky voice continued after a momentary pause where it released a long, exasperated breath, draping itself over the room. Then, a steady clicking, like two stones knocking together, sounded from the shadows deeper in the cellar.
"Heh, neither do I, if I was to be honest. And we should be honest amongst friends, should we not?" It might have been her imagination, but Kathtren felt a slight twinge in her temples before it felt like she was suddenly wrapped in a warm blanket. Stumbling and replanting her feet, Kathren found she had leaned forward slightly too far and that her head was nodding along with the woman's compelling words, "I have, however, overheard the males complaining about it. I gather it to be quite the hassle. Convincing the males to train more in a timely manner will have quite a high cost for me… I might even have to motivate them by sleeping with one, although I would enjoy disciplining them more. But sadly, the mushroom often achieves more than the lash, and such are the pains that come with command."
Kathren felt slightly guilty as the woman finished speaking. It was indeed quite unfortunate that she and the others killed the goblins, as it placed such a burden on another. I could offer my help in training replacements. It can't be that… Wait, what…
In annoyance, Kathren moved her eye to the movement she noticed to the side of the room, distracting her from the seductive voice. At the edges of the light cast from the lanterns placed among the dead bodies around the door, she could just make out large racks for wine barrels. And from among those aisles, small figures were creeping forward with silent steps.
She sent a spike of fear and warning of the new enemies shooting into the Union from long habit and training, which Centurion Borment acknowledged, but it felt muffled and a beat late. But that is because of the interference… A voice whispered in her head.
It was possible, probably even, but that was no reason to be sloppy and invite death. Focusing her distracted mind, Kathren noticed that her sword and spikes had lowered and were now practically hanging at her side.
Raising her weapons back into position, she tried to focus on any approaching threats, only for the clacking filling the chamber to grow louder in her ears, dragging her attention from her sides to straight ahead. With a burst of understanding, she realized that the clacking was the footsteps of the woman slowly walking into the light.
As the shadows slipped from the woman's figure like the hands of an old lover, the curves of her waist and chest could be seen. Her body was hugged by a form-fitting violet dress that left her chest bare. The dress billowed out at her waist in cascading waves to her ankles, leaving her black shoes, which lifted her heels several inches off the ground, showing. The only part of her face visible was the tip of her chin, as everything, including her eyes, was covered by a black vale to her hairline.
She might as well have stayed in the shadows for all the good the light did. All Kathren could tell anyone about her would be the color of her dress, weird shoes, and that she had a large bust. It was probably two more details than the men could say about her, other than her dark skin — which they were getting a good eyeful of — but that wasn't important.
Kathren didn't give a fuck about the size of another woman's chest and who might be looking at it at the moment because there was a far greater concern that was steadily increasing in volume as it screamed in the back of her mind.
And that was how close the… goblins were getting as they approached the legionaries from all directions. The weird thing was that while she was pretty sure they were all friends, she noticed that as they passed the dark elf, they left enough distance so as to not even come close to brushing against her clothing as she stood at the edge of the light, which looked almost like fear.
But as much as Kathren wanted to focus on the woman, her mind kept drifting along with her eyes as they darted to the goblins, who were intent on showing off their drawn blades and fangs. That doesn't look friendly at all…Why would they do this…
The longer she looked at the dark-skinned creatures, the more something about them kept nagging at Kathren. As she finally studied one creature for more than a second, she realized what was bothering her.
Its blade was dripping red. And it wasn't the only one.
Eyes darting from the weapons, she took one quick glance around the room, and Kathren knew where the blood came from. While many of the nearby dead were pincushions, the ones farther away weren't.
They had fresh blood stains from slashes and stabs covering their body parts and bandages before pooling onto the floor. It wasn't entirely one-sided, as some had knives in their hands stained black, but others looked like they had their throats slit while still in their sleep. And for the medics tasked with watching over the wounded, they were peppered with so many of the small arrows they looked like porcupines.
Kathren felt fury rise within her, as friends who would kill her comrades only deserved death. Her rising fury spread into the Union, and soon, everyone was looking at what surrounded them with new eyes. This cellar had become a chapel to death, and they would soon deliver more offerings.
The instant before they succumbed to their anger and blindly charged forward, Centurion Borment exerted his will on the Union, tamping the fury down into a simmering anger, "Not yet, lads. Not yet," his clipped voice echoed in their minds, "Form up and wait for them to come to us."
"Ahhh~," The she-elf sighed in disappointment as soon they reformed their line, "and here I was hoping you would rush forward to get revenge. Why is nothing going my way today?" As the elf talked, she started walking forward, her hands reaching out to brush one of the goblins she passed. Every time she reached out, the goblin flinched like an abused dog but never moved far enough to get out of her reach.
They obviously didn't want to feel her touch, but it was like they feared what she would do to them if they actually escaped her more. Instead, they were trying to stretch out the time before she made contact for as long as possible. But Kathren might be seeing it wrong, as the room was getting dark. The lanterns must be dying…
"This is why you never send a male to do a woman's job." She said, gesturing to them with one hand as if they made the perfect example. "Those males couldn't even handle a few of your… Your… What are your soldiers called? I just can't seem to recall the correct word. Not that it matters. You are, after all, inconsequential soldiers for an insignificant people who will soon be forgotten. Now, if you would be so kin—
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"You can stop… now." Redgenald cut in. "It's not… going to work."
Kathren blinked, the black filling the edges of her vision vanishing. Giving her a clear view of the dark elf, who gave her the distinct impression that the silence that followed Redgenald's words was one of astonishment, though she could not see the dark elf's face, and her posture didn't change. While nothing might have changed, the absence of movement can scream just as loud as any shouted words. And the elf had frozen in place.
With a start, the elf turned to the side, brushing at something at her sleeve, her voice no longer sounding as smooth or as compelling as a moment before. "I see. I was unaware that someone with actual skill was in this backwater."
"It's kind of… the point… of the trade." Reginald casually said and actually received a nod of acknowledgment.
“Well…" Then she gave an indifferent toss of her shoulders, "I thought to gave you an easy death… Or maybe I would have gotten a head start on refilling our ranks of thralls. A lot are dying up there… I guess I hadn't decided yet. But slowly crushing your mind after the goblins kill your friends could also be fun. Kill everyone but him." The elf said before turning and sauntering back the way she came as the goblins rushed forward.
The formation of legionaries had pulled together and slowly moved back until they formed a half circle around the base of the stairs. Ten men and one woman against more than thirty enemies.
And these ones looked far more armored and equipped than the archers. Kathren could see chainmail and plates of metal gleaming in the lantern light over their clothing.
Hoots and sharp cries filled the chamber at the elf's command, and the creatures skittered forward. Some of them even fell forward, landing on all fours to propel them forward faster than the rest of their kin.
"My men are on their way," Redgenald spoke into the mental network, "We only have to hold on for a minute."
"Can they make a difference?" Centurion Borment asked, not even bothering to ask how Redgenald knew that when everyone else's long-range communication was nearly nonexistent.
"One of them was a Knight in another life."
“…And this information wasn't given before?" The Centurion asked after a moment, his voice sounding neutral, but there was a flare of rage from the legionaries in the network. "And why are you telling me now?"
Kathren knew what the legionaries were thinking, as it was passing through her mind as well. If there was someone so strong in the manor, why had they done nothing before now? How many of their brothers died that could have lived?
Then Redgenald's calm and clear voice entered everyone's mind, "The tenuous position of me and my men necessitated me to leave my options open. And while we have been pressed since we started defending the manor house, we have had no real threat of being overrun until now. As for why he is not already here, I didn't think…" His voice trailed off, and Kathren felt his focus move away for a few moments before returning, but his mental voice had a distracted air to it like he was doing something else. "Where was I? Ah, yes. Having us both in the same location seemed to be overkill at the time. But this woman is a powerful Reaver, and it will take most of my focus to prevent her attempts of subverting yours — or the other legionaries in the manor — minds."
Fear filled the Union, and Kathren felt those to the sides of Redgenald shuffle away from him, opening a gap between him and them. "Get back in formation!" Borment instantly snapped before turning his focus back to the conversation. "You should be back in the manor then. Even if every legionary in our centuries dies, it wouldn't be as much of a loss as your death. Not to mention that your death is the end of this battle."
"You aren't wrong," Redgenald agreed, "But any chance of me going unnoticed vanished the moment we met the dark elf, she would have noticed my presence earlier if I wasn't actively hiding, and now that I have reviled myself, they will be hunting for me. And if I have to fight, the closer I am to this woman, the better. Whatever casting they are performing on the city gives her a greater advantage every foot we are separated. If I am too far away, I can only defend until she eventually overwhelms me."
Everyone could feel that he was speaking the truth, or they thought they felt he was telling them the truth. That was the main reason everyone feared those skilled in the telepathic branch of casting. No one could trust what they were feeling. Also, the fear that they would violate your mind, learning your darkest secrets while controlling you.
All normal feelings, if anyone bothered to ask Kathren. It was not such a normal feeling when said figure was the only thing standing between you and a person deciding between making you into one of the puppets outside. And whose minions callously killed the wounded without a second thought.
In that vain of thought, Kathren stepped a little closer to Redgenald's back from where she stood in the back line, earning a pulse of approving amusement from him.
"Guard the Reaver with your lives if a gap opens." Centurion Borment ordered getting an immediate, if somewhat reluctant, acknowledgment from the command. Everyone knew that a legionary's life was worth less than a Knight's.
You wouldn't have to ask more than four people before finding one who could tell you a first or second-hand story of a squad or century sacrificing themselves to save a Knight. And then they would go on to tell you how that Knight saved a century, cohort, or even legion by breaking the ranks of their foe a day or two later.
Knights, to legionaries, represented hope. So long as they were around, any obstacle could be overcome. But Reavers weren't really Knights, though they were at the same level of power.
But an order had been given, and they would follow it.
"I appreciate the sentiment," Redgenald messaged, his sword lifted and ready for the oncoming charge, "But this level of physical combat is not something I need to focus on to be effective."
With nothing more to be said, the Union fell silent for all but the fearful anticipation churning underneath everyone's thoughts.
One final screech ripped itself from the goblins' throats, and they leaped over the last distance between them and the thin line of legionaries.
Kathren fired two of her spikes forward, hitting two of the small figures hanging in the air in their chests and causing a clink of steel as their armor absorbed the impact. Though their legs continued forward, their upper bodies stopped before they flipped down around the unmoving obstacle of her spike, crashing to the ground at the legionary's feet in a daze, injured but far from dead.
Raising their shields, the legionaries absorbed and pushed back the rest of the goblins falling on their heads, only for Redgenald's voice, full of authority, to bark across the Union, "Shield slam!"
No one questioned the command. As one, instead of retaliating against the goblins they had just thrown off their shields, the legionaries dropped into a crouch as they yanked their shields down, slamming their bottom edge into the floor.
As the shields dropped, they connected with the curved swords of the second line of goblins. The creatures had shot forward, using the distraction of the flyers to try and snake their weapons under both their comrades and the shields to slash at the legionaries' legs. Catching and trapping the blades under their shields, Borment didn't hesitate in giving the order, "Bash and stab!"
The shield wall pumped out a foot, cracking into the faces of the crouched goblins, staggering them and blinding them with tears as their noses were broken. As the shields were pulled back into line, the legionaries opened their shields enough for their swords to stab out into the necks and faces of the goblins.
Not everyone's blow found its mark, skittering off the goblin's armor as some moved enough to dodge, but it bought a moment to reposition their shields and stances. As the former first row pulled themselves free from the third and the second was staggered from the attack, the legionaries stood firm, waiting for the next charge.
"End it!" Redgenald's voice rang out, filling the cellar in the momentary lull in the fighting.
"Haha!" A sadistic laugh came from the dark elf from where she stood at the rear of the goblins, "But watching you struggle is so fun! It would be a shame to en—
The elf's voice cut off in a gurgle, her head falling to the side as a crack, almost like thunder, filled the room.