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After Slipstreaming through a second-story arrow slit, I commanded everyone in the lower stories to take arms. “Prepare for an attack—tonight is the night.”
Yula and Iris conferred with Captain Jourdain in a quiet corner, where officers met in the crowded barbican for private discussions. The stacked crates and barrels of supplies gave them a buffer between the wary eyes of curious citizens. They used it when setting tasks and guard schedules, determining who took the unpopular shifts.
“What ees dis? I hear no reports of green devils moving.”
“But they will! I just came from the orrery—there’s a lunar conjunction tonight. Three overlapping moons with Tarnen nearby. Go outside, and you’ll see.”
Greenie had been with them, but I hadn’t noticed him standing in the shadows. He became the first to ascend the stairs to the roof. The rest of us followed.
Captain Jourdain shook his head as he gazed upwards. “Okay, this is something else. We’ll need more people defending the roof.”
Greenie only glanced at the moons—instead, he looked downward, lost in thought.
Greenie seemed unusually detached—as if the news didn’t bother him. He couldn’t offer advice without breaking his bonded promise, but I wished he pretended to be concerned.
Captain Jourdain peered at four crescents of light. “Blast our luck! We couldn’t even get full moons. Governor, did the orrery show how much time we have to get ready?”
“It peaks near midnight—in about a half hour. It’ll last two and a half minutes.”
Yula barked out orders. “Commander Zaxter!”
The burly old veteran saluted, though he looked out of place in civilian clothes as much as taking orders. “Yes, ma’am—right here.”
“You and Ally keep downstairs. You command below. Armor ze backup troops and send to roof! Everyone else takes blade and stays put.”
“Yes, ma’am! We’ll secure the stairs!” Thaxter turned to Ally. “I’m putting you in charge of non-combatants. Take the kids and civies down the well if the gobs reach the stairs. Get ready to open the gate and swim to the riverbanks, but only open it on my command. Do you understand?”
“Aye, commander. Hawkhurst breeds fleet swimmers. We’ll make the far riverbank, no problem.”
Swimming across the river had been an idea many considered. The goblin’s fear of water and Hawkhurst’s Amphibious buff made aquatic escapes attractive, but it meant yielding everything to Rezan. An amphibious withdrawal meant an end to Hawkhurst.
By this point, news of the danger broke to everyone in the cramped lower quarters. Even though they knew our defense strategy, it took considerable coordination to get everyone ready. Ally and Thaxter spent their time readying Hawkhurst’s more vulnerable citizens, ensuring they knew what to do. If the goblins took the top floor, we’d fall back to the middle. If we couldn’t hold it, the ground level served as our last stand. From there, we’d open the gates and jump into the river.
While Yula and Captain Jourdain marshaled everyone to their proper place, I caught Iris and Greenie staring at the goblins assembling in the northern meadow.
Iris sounded hollow and distant. “They’re on the move now—getting ready. Their numbers haven’t changed, so Blood Drinker won’t be a factor.”
“What’s wrong, Iris?”
“Fletcher will be here by the end of the week. I sent letters to the wainwrights and people we know in Grayton, but they said he’s already left for Hawkhurst. We can’t protect Hawkhurst and incoming caravans at the same time.”
I added the news as another cost to escaping across the river. Leaving our settlement to the goblins exposed the entire trade route and its travelers. We’d blazed the trail to Basilborough enough to know even the most inept goblin scouts would find it. General Sturm might have dispersed hundreds of his forces to the west. I couldn’t assume he’d sent them all home.
What options remained? Their jumping ability in low-g allowed the goblins to attack us with impunity. They proved they could outlast our highest damage output and exhaust our healing. Repelling them might save our skins, but it would spell doom for Fletcher, his mercenary guards, and the arriving merchants.
Lloyd leaned against the long billhook. His tautly drawn lips showed concern over his absent son. It wasn’t much of an expression, but I knew him well enough to know he worried over Fletcher.
Iris tightened her eyes, drawing a tear down her cheek. “I know leaving at a time like this is bad, but you can make Greenie the governor. Fletch knew the risks when he left—but he’s my husband. I would appreciate anything you could do.”
I nodded. “If we survive this, I’ll go out after them.”
She gripped my hand and turned away.
Greenie listened to the conversation but never met my eyes.
“The ballistas aren’t ready?”
The goblin shook his head without looking up.
“That’s okay. I know you’re doing your best. We’re working under difficult circumstances.” I tried to put more feeling into my encouragement but couldn’t summon it. Something felt off with our engineer. I’d seen winding mechanisms working when I’d walked into the woodshop. The coiled springs looked stable and sturdy enough to hold tension. Greenie’s assertion about being stuck on the spring’s housing seemed like a stalling tactic.
I couldn’t accuse him of it, and he acted morose about the project. I understood he held conflicting feelings about his brother, but he wasn’t the only one invested in this battle’s outcome. Lots of people risked their necks.
Even if we couldn’t kill goblins with a single shot, having non-magical firepower at our disposal helped spread the damage. Rezan could only heal 20 goblins between Restore and Rejuvenates—and he couldn’t cast Rally without healing our forces.
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“If they can jump up here, I want you outside. Maybe Rezan will call off the attack if he sees you on the tower.”
Greenie grimaced as if the possibility were remote. “Of course, governor. But Rezan won’t call off the attack. They’ll have orders not to harm me.”
The brevity of his reply irritated me. If we survived this, we needed to have a chat. Greenie’s been keeping his cards too close to his chest for my liking, and I couldn’t indulge him anymore with special treatment. He needed to tell me what’s been bothering him.
Twenty-six red bipedal dots entered my settlement map, fewer than we’d counted at the bunker. I cursed at the circumstance that rendered Glowing Coals ineffective. Forren’s third blessing offered no impediment to airborne creatures.
When the goblins approached, Yula shouted orders for defenders to coordinate attacks. “Corporals peek out target for teams. Take position and crush intruders!”
The moons disappearing behind one another dimmed the surrounding countryside. Multiple light sources illuminated the field of battle. Torches ringing the barbican’s rooftop. Rezan’s eyes lit up the goblins in subdued yellow light. Several defenders glowed Presence. Some held Imbued Weapons. Gladius Cognitus glimmered with the same silvery glow. If the town focused its fire on Crooga, perhaps we could stop her from Dispelling the crazy damage it delivered.
The crescents in the sky fell behind one another. The dark green shadow of Nassi ate the pale blue sliver of Owd. When the sky’s yellow giant, Laros, the moon of light magic, obscured all, a buff appeared in my interface.
Buff
Conflicting Pulls
In the area of effect, denizens of Miros will experience up to 82 percent reduced gravity.
Duration
2 minutes 36 seconds
After assembling north of our position, General Sturm issued orders to launch arrows. The volley sailed over our heads. The lack of ripples on the black mirror of Otter Lake attested to the increased range, and I couldn’t guess how far they traveled before arcing downward to Miros.
The fire returned by the barbican’s archers proved more accurate. Corporals Lazaar, Turan, and Arikan called out targets, followed by the swishing song of arrows from all three stories.
Streams of Rezan’s Rejuvenate highlighted targets, giving archers better visibility of Crooga, our intended mark. Her health precipitously dropped with the tower concentrating on her until Restores popped her back up to full.
Unimpressed by the exchange of fire, Rezan spoke to the General, who issued another command. Sturm spoke in a goblin dialect only Greenie and I knew. But the meaning became evident to all defenders. “Deathless, take the sky!”
Two dozen goblins triggered their jumping ability or pulled themselves effortlessly up the face of the barbican. Nameplates enlarged as they closed the distance.
Two figures leading the charge towered over their brethren, Dol and Pommer, the hobgoblin honor guards. They, too, leaped in lazy arcs, landing atop the barbican surrounded by dozens of defenders.
While everyone else exchanged fire, I poured mana into Gladius Cognitus. Even if Crooga could Dispel the charge, she wouldn’t waste it on an attack not directed at Rezan. Knowing this, I positioned myself beneath a hobgoblin leading the charge and waited for him to land.
With a flotilla of goblins behind him, Dol, the hobgoblin, landed on the ballista platform, spun the inoperable ballista at Yula, and tried to fire it. Of course, nothing happened. I took the opportunity to strike him.
/You hit Dol for 478 damage (4 resisted).
/Dol dies.
One less Deathless reduced their damage output by 5 percent. In a sustained fight, even modest gains could tip the battle. The hit cost 400 mana, nearly emptying me. After downing a mana potion, I used it as a regular weapon. Unfortunately, I couldn’t use my blade’s innate Imbue Weapon power during combat. It took minutes to charge up, and any strike discharged its arcane energy.
The jumping maneuver swamped us with attackers. Every goblin landed on the barbican’s roof. The scene wasn’t drawn by battle lines but by a chaotic mix of attackers and defenders.
The goblins weren’t the only ones using the low gravity to their advantage. I cast a Compression Sphere at a group climbing the tower’s western face. The blast sent five flying in different directions.
I considered saving one for Rezan, but knocking him off the roof did little good. His healing range covered a quarter-mile radius and didn’t depend on a line of sight.
I triggered a second shockwave using a rune memorized by my sword. One goblin landed in the Orga River. It panicked, screamed, and splashed foam and water. Instead of drowning, it flailed on the surface like a fly caught in a glass of water. Then I remembered the low gravity. With enough time, even this hapless, thrashing figure might return to shore and rejoin its comrades. In either case, it meant one less goblin in the picture. Other goblins took minimal falling damage and returned to the assault by climbing back up the barbican’s wall. They barely exerted themselves in the low-g conditions.
I meted out 80-point blows and nearly 200-point crits to goblins landing on and crawling up the tower, yet none of my efforts made a lick of difference beneath the enemy’s healing umbrella.
My sword spoke in its strange humming voice. “I don’t recall goblins being so resilient. I anticipated more bloodletting after felling the hobgoblin, but we seem to be in the same feckless rut as previous altercations.”
“Believe me, Gladdy. I’m trying my best. If you have any ideas, I’m all ears.”
The combat log whirled with notations of healing, hits, and spells to little effect. Rezan’s 300-yard healing range rendered his back-rank position highly effective. Fighting my way to him would only expose me to more incoming damage, and his Halo negated reasons to do so.
The remaining hobgoblin, Pommer, Inquisitor Crooga, and General Sturm fought beside him. All had survived the onslaught of arrows without a scratch.
Besides using low gravity to invade the rooftop, the goblins fought with no specific strategy. They didn’t need one, for the barbican’s defenders offered only non-lethal resistance, a defense that would eventually capitulate. The enemy’s only agenda revolved around wearing us down.
Yula and Pommer fought viciously, obscuring the king behind them.
Rezan paid the surrounding chaos little heed. Instead, he scanned the skies for Beaker.
My griffon had long since disappeared since the conjunction’s beginning. It made sense that the gravity shift complicated Beaker’s ability to fly—the lift in his wings propelled him higher than usual. I couldn’t hear his telepathic messages. He hadn’t died, so I assumed he flew out of our communication range. The low-gravity buff still had a minute left on its duration, but I saw no way to use it to our advantage. Beaker would return once the moons passed one another.
Rezan’s skyward gaze might have upended the artifact off his head were it not for tangled twine knots holding it on like a chinstrap. The king’s size and improvised head wrap reminded me of a child wearing a protective helmet, looking unhappy at the indignity of it. The nets around his head looked haphazard, overdone, and ridiculous. They appeared secure, deflating hope of knocking off the Cursed Band of Light Ascendence with Compression Spheres.
Without Blood Drinker’s super-charged Whirls, our collective outgoing damage put no drain on the goblin king’s mana. When his mana pool dropped from 300 to 250, he drank a minor mana potion to top him off. In another ten minutes, he’d be able to quaff another.
With Protection’s 50 percent bonus health and Merciful Touch’s free heals, we held fast against the attack. Our active militia outnumbered the goblins five to one, but we couldn’t make headway. Our healers had already downed mana potions, and the prospect of lasting long enough for a second potion looked doubtful. The volume of lines listed in the combat log made parsing events difficult.
The battle continued after the gravitational tug of war between Miros and its satellites subsided. Both sides maintained steady health pools, but the goblins wore down our mana reserves.
Rezan and General Sturm had done their homework. Their plan A had won them the tower’s top floor.