MERCS:

Wilson ‘Twerk’ Turk | Izildra ‘Izil’ Bizra | Bletcher | Georg ‘The Hoffmeister’ Hoffman | Victor ‘Pecs’ Balinski | Eddie ‘Fortune’ Rich | The Baron | Ashlyn ‘Greenblade’ Sawrey | Liudmila ‘Mila’ Stradenko | Christoph ‘The Bowman’ Gerd | Jaelin ‘The Explorer’ Topolski | Larik ‘The Bludgeoner’ Hunder | Lothar ‘Stiff’ Sauer | Odafe ‘Smoke’ Negedu | Mary ‘Mental’ Jenkins | Henning ‘Tree’ Teller

‘You’ll look after Sharptooth for me, won’t you?’ Wilson asked Suzie. ‘If you need any more money for food, just say.’

‘Murder will look after him,’ she said. ‘He bites me whenever I go near him.’

‘Oh. Sorry. I wonder why he bites you and not Murder?’

‘He bites Murder ’n all. It’s just Murder don’t seem to mind.’

‘Ah. Actually, he bites me, too. When I get back from Linby, I’ll give some time to train him properly.’

‘Right,’ Suzie said doubtfully.

If I get back, the gnome acknowledged to himself.

The odds didn’t seem favourable.

They had two river barges waiting to take them to the town of Linby. Stiff was there, organising the loading of supplies. He’d be coming with them, putting himself in the same danger as his crew. That decision had probably been key in keeping the squad together.

Because there were a lot of sick looking faces waiting at the dockside. It seemed that almost certain death didn’t agree with Wilson’s crewmates. But he didn’t mind it too much. He’d long dreamed of living the life of a warrior. He wasn’t about to complain when things got difficult.

‘Time to get on board,’ Stiff shouted. He ushered his crew onto the barges—taking care, perhaps, lest any of them snuck away.

The bargemen pushed away from the dock with their long poles, then pushed and paddled the boat upriver.

The journey was nothing but enjoyable. Wilson had done a lot of traipsing back and forth across Gal’azu in the last few months—doing his best to keep up with the lanky humans. Instead, he was able to sit and rest, watching the world go by. The territory on the west bank of the Auster was the most heavily settled in Gal’azu. Some enterprising souls had established settlements east of the river. Most of them were deserted now. Word had quickly spread about the imminent arrival of the goblin horde. Nothing east of the river was defensible. The truth was, every farm, village, and town in the entire region was in peril.

When they docked and unloaded at Linby, the bargemen didn’t hang around. There were no offers of help. They paddled back to the safety of Avolo.

The docks were on the east side of the river. Nearby, the bridge across the Auster was a solid, stone construction. It was the most used crossing point of the river, and Linby had grown up around it.

Wilson and most of the other mercs followed Stiff around, as he shook his head in wonder at the predicament they were in. ‘Fetch the town leaders,’ he growled, and a few of the team ran off to find someone. ‘Most of the town is on the east side of the river,’ the merc captain uttered in disbelief.

A dozen of the townsfolk gathered at the dock to meet their protectors.

‘You’re Mr Sauer?’ one of them asked. ‘Avolo sent messages ahead. Can I say we are most grateful—’

‘—Why are people still living on the east side of the river?’ Stiff interrupted. ‘There are thousands of goblins about to arrive. What are you thinking?’

‘We’ve evacuated some people,’ the burgher replied defensively. ‘Then strengthened our walls on the east side.’

‘Strengthened the walls?’ Stiff repeated. ‘No. We can’t hold these walls against a few hundred, never mind a thousand. Get everyone across the river first. Then pull down the walls and buildings. Prioritise the buildings closest to the river. We don’t want to leave hiding places for the enemy. Also, those homes can be rebuilt on the other side. Transport as much material as you can across to the west bank. We defend the bridge, not the walls.’ He turned from the townsfolk, nothing more to say to them. ‘That goes for you lot as well,’ he ordered the Apples. ‘You’re getting paid well enough. Time for some hard labour. We need to get this place turned around fast.’

The willingness of each member of The Rotten Apples to shift chunks of stone across a river varied. Pecs was in his element, demonstrating his raw strength. The women of Linby brought refreshments, many of them gathering around the Livanian to offer him a cup of their special brew.

Izil scowled. Fortune grew hot, sweaty, and foul mouthed. The Hoffmeister worked tirelessly. The Bowman overdid it. Smoke shirked. Bletcher was useless. Wilson knew he wasn’t much better, not able to lift the heavier things. Stiff led by example, an implacable look on his face which served to remind everyone exactly why all the effort was necessary.

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When the light began to fade, Stiff told his mercs they were done. ‘Rest up. We’ve plenty of supplies, so make sure you take in enough food and water. I’ll need you again for the night shift. Last thing we need is those goblins creeping up on us.’ He retired to the bridge with a small group of townsfolk, talking intently about some issue he had.

Wilson helped make a fire, while Tree and Mila began turning the supplies they had carried from Avolo into something tasty.

That night, he was given a watch with Mental and Smoke. The pair of them shared a bottle of something strong, which was hardly the most professional way to keep a lookout for an enemy army. Wilson used The Explorer’s Rod of Light to scan the opposite bank. There were no signs of goblins, and after a day of hard labour and a big meal, it was an effort to stay awake.

Stiff joined them. ‘Anything?’

‘Nothing,’ Wilson told him.

Stiff took a swig from the drink Mental offered him. ‘I heard about your episode with the trolls. Nothing on your character sheet says you’re a berserker.’

‘Oh? Musta missed that off.’ Mental pursed her lips at Stiff’s frown. ‘Don’t tend to go over too well when I mention it.’

‘Think of it as an enhancement,’ Smoke said, coming to his friend’s defence.

‘I don’t mind it,’ said Stiff. ‘But I like to know what I’m dealing with.’

‘Yeah, fair enough,’ said Jenkins. ‘I shoulda been straight with you.’

‘You’ll need to control it when it comes to these goblins. Running headlong at an army doesn’t usually end too well.’

Mental gave him a bitter smile. The lines on her face seemed to stand out all the more. ‘I can’t control it. When the threat reaches a certain level of intensity, it just happens. And it doesn’t stop for some time afterwards.’

‘Then I’m astounded you’ve lived this long,’ Stiff said.

‘I’m pleasantly surprised about that myself.’

The goblin scouts arrived the next morning.

‘Defend this side of the bridge,’ Stiff ordered.

The Apples put up a five man shieldwall. Wilson stood with Fortune. Redblade glowed at his belt.

Some of the goblins shot arrows across the river. The Bowman, The Explorer, and Tree returned fire. The goblins retreated, but it was a minor victory. More goblins arrived, scores of them marching into what was left of Linby east of the river. Soon, they numbered in the hundreds—and more kept arriving.

Half of the town fled, most of them taking the road south to Avolo. They had been told the goblins were coming. But seeing is believing, Wilson said to himself.

Sal Blair had said their army numbered around five thousand. If he was right, it looked like half of it had come to cross the river at Linby. It wasn’t possible to say for sure where the other half was. But it was likely they had gone to Dorwich, to secure the other major river crossing.

Wilson stared into the blue water of the Auster. It was wide here, and still fast flowing. A death trap if the goblins tried to swim it. But cross the lightly defended bridge ahead of them, and they would have access to anywhere in Gal’azu.

The water seemed to call to him, like a parent to its child. He took one involuntary step towards it. He imagined the water welcoming him in its embrace—washing away all his pain and sorrow.

‘No!’ Bletcher’s voice. He wore the Mask of Magical Warding, and carried the Staff of Warning. ‘The gods do not ask for a sacrifice in the water today,’ he cried, ‘unless it be goblins.’

The pull of the water evaporated. So. Somewhere in amongst all those goblins was their mage. It was just as well Bletcher was here. Still. I wouldn’t have actually walked into the water. Would I?

Half a dozen townsfolk stood in a group a few feet behind the Apples. They were only lightly armed, carrying long handled hammers. Stiff gestured for them to come over.

Wilson wondered what his captain’s plan was. ‘Are you not ordering an evacuation, Stiff? We can hold the bridge for a while. But there are too many to keep out forever.’

Stiff looked at the gnome like he had gone mad. ‘Hold it? I’m dismantling it. Apples!’ He bellowed. ‘Protect the bridge breakers!’

Shields went up around the six breakers, who began swinging the hammers at the stone abutment on their side of the bridge.

‘How long is that going to take?’ demanded Fortune.

‘We prepared it last night,’ Stiff told him. ‘Hopefully not long.’

The sound of mortar cracking and stone coming loose was promising. But on the opposite bank, the goblins realised what was happening. Their warriors were sent towards the bridge, in an attempt to cross it before it was collapsed.

The first of them reached the bank and ran onto the bridge. One of Tree’s arrows claimed the first fatality of the encounter. More replaced it. More fell, as Jaelin and Christoph joined Henning in claiming goblin lives. But if the goblins had one thing, it was numbers. They climbed over their dead comrades, sprinting along the bridge.

The Hoffmeister advanced towards them.

‘No!’ Greenblade cried, grabbing his arm. ‘It’ll collapse with you on it!’

‘Here!’ Pecs thundered, leaving the shieldwall and joining the townsfolk. ‘Give me a go.’ He grabbed a hammer and cracked it against the abutment. Again, and again, as the goblins poured towards them.

The bridge shifted, and the goblins at the front stopped, alarmed. Those behind kept coming, crowding on and adding more weight. Another swing from Pecs, another shift, and the goblins at the front began pushing and grappling to go back the way they had come, desperate for the safety of the opposite bank.

Too late. The bridge disintegrated and fell into the water, all the way to the midpoint of the bridge. Chunks of stone and goblins fell into the Auster. Most sank to the bottom. A few goblins were carried away downriver.

‘There,’ Stiff said, satisfied. ‘We’ve defended Linby, and not even taken an injury.’

‘Is that what those councillors in Avolo were expecting from us?’ Wilson asked him dubiously.

‘No. Probably not.’ Sauer grinned. ‘But they’ve already paid us. Let Sal Blair and The Golden Blades deal with the consequences.’

MISSION COMPLETE

SUCCESS: Linby was defended

None of your mercs improved their stats

No mercs levelled up