UNFORTUNATE RAIDERS
From his crawling posture, Cust frowned while looking up towards the humans some distance away.
The strange word covered the silent grassland, dissipating to a whisper when it reached his pair of scrawny, pointed ears. Cust, eyed the two humans, as a blood lust and ferocious growl welled up within his throat. Since they spotted him, he had no qualms in launching his attack. Before he could shout the command however, it rained.
Like a passing cloud, floating overhead, the deadly rain thumped into the ground at the front and then continued over them as it progressed in the direction of the forest. Never in his short life, had Cust fought in such a large-scale war.
Goblin wars consisted of skirmishes between humans, goblin tribes, and small villages of the other forest denizens. The whizzing arrows seem to come from hundreds of archers releasing their bows in harmony. Not even a Goblin Tide could mirror such discipline.
The wooden arrows, with sharpened points made by burning and scraping over a fire, soon buried themselves into the earth, covering a large expanse of grassland. The whistling sound in flight gave way to the pitter-patter beats on making contact with the sometimes hard earth or soft flesh.
The pleasant sound, like raindrops pattering on the shingled roof, gradually escalated into screams and wails. They varied between shouts of anger, to dying groans from the surprised raiders.
No matter the race, the wail of an intelligent creature sucking its last breath, sends a shiver through the body while freezing the soul. This was the first time Chu had ever witness a mass slaughter of something other than a beast. The sounds shrouded in the darkness generated an eerie feel.
While some in the farm did some soul-searching and tried to strengthen their minds, the recipients of this attack had no such luxury. This was especially true for the Raid Leader who so happened to be caught smack dab in the middle.
An arrow pierced the ground, inches away from his acme ridden nose, causing his pupils turned cross-eyed on focusing at the shaft that nearly reaped his little life. The thought of death, doubled his heartbeat, filling his body with a brief uncontrollable power.
Cust stifled a scream, bouncing off the ground where he crawled on all fours, stumbling backward. This late action responded to the arrow that nearly killed him.
Like a wildcat whose tail had been stepped, his uncoordinated action created an opportunity for his ass to make deadly contact with the feathered end of the shaft, sticking up behind him.
"Arrgh!"
The disorganized raiders had never encountered a situation. The ones who escaped by sheer luck, then moved around in a fluster, on witnessing nearly a quarter of the battalion pinned to the ground by long arrows. Amidst the screaming, panic chatter began to rise.
Some had been pierced through their arms and feet, while they crawled, the arrows pinning them on the ground like an entomologist display. Dark blood trickled, spurted or sprayed onto the grass-covered earth, as the bloodletting howled in pain.
The unfortunate ones had the feathered fletchers sticking out from their head, neck or backs. One-shot kill victims of the wide area, aerial bombardment.
Panic seeped into the hearts of the veterans, who had always relied on surprise and blitz attacks to subdue their adversaries. Goblins were natural cowards, finding strength through numbers.
In the face of danger, and without a leader, running like a headless chicken proved to be the most viable solution. But before they could scatter, something happened.
Something that dispelled the notion of cowardice from their tiny hearts.
A roar came from their leader, centered their attention, quelling the thoughts of retreat.
In the moonlight night, one brave goblin bent his back, facing the moon, while roaring in defiance at the humans' paltry attack. The scene revitalized the low morale of the raiders and had some of the little creatures imitating their unstoppable leader. All together they snarled and yelled as fanatics, priming themselves for an unstoppable rush.
Poor Cust had no idea he caused the goblins to rile up in bloodlust, due to his actions. At this moment, he gained a veritable load of problems. A piece of unwanted wood penetrated deep into his ass, rendering his little bandy legs like jelly. Supported in a fragile posture on three legs, he could only gaze skywards and scream.
Among the other vocalist of the night, his was the loudest.
Magg had survived this unexpected attack. Glancing at Cust, he could only admire this leader who he had followed, since his induction into the vanguard army. He searched for Bugg, but suspected he had been among the fallen. Interpreting his leader's cries, he issued a shrill scream and led the charge up the slope.
Chu looked at the little shadows, standing around in a daze. Like the goblins, he had been amazed at the perseverance of that lone goblin, and its indomitable will to battle. In the darkness and from his angle, he could not notice the unusual painful, third leg.
The visitors had long moved into the safety of the farm, while the guards remained to wait in ambush behind the little houses. Chu did not mobilize the entire farm, for someone else took command and handled the visiting troops.
"Young Master, it seems like I have really underestimated you."
General Kettle sighed, his sharp eyes scanning the battlefield. On receiving word from the boy, he had taken command of the guards, preparing a counterattack. The boy, however, requested him to hold his attack, so as to conduct an early demonstration.
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"Wait until you see three of them in action. Fire!"
Cust witnessed it first, since his tear-stained eye, gazed upwards. Amidst his screams he heard the forerunning whistling, causing his screams to choke inside his little throat. A black swarm aimed for the full moon then failed and dived earthward, swooshing in a cry of sorrow.
Cust's eyes popped open in fear, as the previous sprinkle seemed to pale in comparison to this raging thundershower. This downpour threatened to flood the entire region. What the hell did they have up there?
The chorus of screams, added fire to the ending song, disturbing the peace of the grasslands. Wails of despair, shrills of fright, resounded on the slope, turning into low guttering sounds. The entire goblin raiders had been near totally decimated, as this larger swarm easily found more blood.
The majority of the goblins sprawled on the ground, bleeding out of different wounds too difficult to count. The ten or so stragglers who remained on their feet, had scratches or wounds from an arrow ripping out certain parts of their flesh.
General Kettle blanked out, as his mind froze for a moment. Looking a the goblins wailing and stumbling about in despair and fright, he could relate to them, as a veteran of countless battles.
"Attack."
He commanded in a booming voice, as the guards rushed out. He looked down, towards the three inventions easily maneuverable and positioned because of the large front wheels.
"Boy, when are you coming to the Capital?"
***
Pug tore through the forest, his little legs driven by fright.
He had led the battalion under Cust, guiding them to this suspected farm. He and his two subordinates had then remained hidden under the forest, as the raiders sallied forth. They had witnessed the surprised ambush, seen the silhouette and the defiant screams of Cust, and then squealed in fright at the carnage that soon followed.
A massacre!
The three had fled in fright, terrified at the brutality of these humans. They could not understand why the intended food had to retaliate in such a manner.
Did humans have to be so dangerous?
So brutal?
Goblin legends and tales never spoke of humans being this vicious. On the raids down south, the goblins had a wonderful success. The farmers there provided little resistance and were butchered cleanly. The smaller humans simply shed tears, while waiting for their throats to be slit.
What the hell happened here?
Pug and his group skirted over roots and through bushes. They ran close together as if companionship helped in erasing the fear. Their three pairs of legs pumped simultaneously in comradery. One of the scouts turned his face towards Pug, consoling him with that horrible smile. Like blood brothers, they escaped aiding each other.
Until disaster struck.
A huge wolf bounded across the forest, blindsiding and crashing into them, bowling the three of them over in a heap. Powered by fear, they scrambled to their feet, only to face a gigantic leaping wolf. Pug echoed a shrill scream in the forest, bursting out while leaving his loincloth hooked between the fangs of the beast.
Comradery?
The little goblin screamed some more, ran some more, as he heard the dying sound of wails mixed with snapping bones. Pug blazed through the forest, liquid streaming down from his wide-open eyes, and also from between his naked thighs. He never looked back to verify the fate of his brethren.
A few hours later, his bare feet powered his body on seeing the familiar clearing through the trees. Pug burst through the little underbrush, his little goblin silhouette highlighted against the large moon as he launched out of the darkness under the trees.
He paused halfway up the hill, listening to the silence as the crunching of the stones underfoot ceased.
His neck creaked as it turned, his bulging eyes straining to scan the forest. On finding nothing, his strained heart finally eased. He stifled the screams welling up in his sore throat and tottered towards the cave entrance. Only when he reached the entrance did the little goblin collapse from both physical and mental exhaustion.
Unknown to Pug, however, a pair of yellow eyes from a large wolf, scanned the moonlit clearing, before slinking into the darkness under the trees.
***
General Kettle had the guards kill the surviving goblins, and man the watch for the remainder of the night. As for Chu and his group, they washed up and had one of the most comfortable sleep in their lives.
In the morning Chu wiped the cold from his weary eyes. Sitting opposite him, General Kettle waited with his eyes closed as if in meditation. The representatives and their Sersen escorts, clustered around, seated or standing in the workshop. Chu rubbed his head, gazing at the different expressions on their faces.
"I take it General Kettle, and Young Master Tian are happy with their product."
Chu said, breaking the silence. The old man opened his wrinkled, but sharp eyes and nodded.
"What are your plans, since you seem to know about the impending goblin raids."
Sersen Kettle had lived through countless experiences in his life. Last night, the boy showed no fear in dealing with the green-skinned raiders. In fact, he had the appearance of someone keen to battle and interested in the strange creatures. Even after having a preview before seeing goblins, a kid would not remain calm.
"I want to remain here, I have already made preparations for some of my family to move to the Capital."
"Fine, I want to take two of the multishot weapons with me, I'll leave you one for your own safety. Tian will handle the plans and the documents."
General Kettle sighed, before rising to leave. Chu decided to strike while the iron was hot.
"General, before the guards, dispose of the bodies, can I request they hand over proof of the kill, I am a little short of cash, and want to stake a claim at the garrison."
For the first time in his life, Sersen Kettle stumbled because of a statement. Merchant Windit sprayed out the water he was drinking; he felt he had met a kindred spirit. As for most of the others, they believed that now learned the true meaning of the words boldface and thick-skinned.
Chu spent the entire morning busy negotiating with Fatty Tian, and then explaining to the subordinated of the General, the workings of the multishot. Although curious, the Houses did not disturb him but waited until he finished before hauling him over to explain in greater detail and answer questions relating their own.
General Kettle called Chu over to the lodge, making another arrangement with him. Chu left some words of advice for Fatty Tian before exiting. From their conversations, he had a good grasp of this young man's character.
"You better lose some weight chubby, before my big sister enters the Capital. A toad-like you wanting to eat swan meat? In your dreams."
He left General Kettle in a bout of coughing, and the embarrassed Fatty, red as a beet.
Chu visited the lodge of the Churches Union. Mage Disparte had heavy bags under his eyes, waking since the day they received the clock. He had burned hour candles and hovered over a sundial, checking the time. Tired, he still greeted the boy.
"I wonder if Mage Disparte and priest Lowe could do this little one a favor?"
In the late evening, the guest convoy left together, heading towards the Capital. In the fading light, Chu climbed the platform overlooking the western gate. The small lodges and the smoldering remains of the Goblins testified to the battles he had fought and won.
"Looks like this war has just begun."