Liora’s POV
There were four villages between Gravewell and the bog. This was the first village. It had a small population of 50ish goblins, no hobgoblins. The other three villages were equally small. The scouts were confident that we could easily win.
Paul was equally sure. He had only brought his undead troops to add a little intimidation to the tribes on their way to the bog. Neither of them had been to a bog before and didn’t know how the undead troops would perform.
Rikkard didn’t seem confident in his own troops performing well in the bog. He had been there before to trade for an herb found in the lissik’s territory. He didn’t mention who the herb was for, Paul was beyond curious, Liora couldn’t care less.
Paul was hoping all four villages would surrender. He had gained a liking for living servants. They apparently had many more uses undead ones. Liora couldn’t think of any such uses, other than food, but Paul was adamant.
Paul sat atop one of his undead steeds. Liora was a little jealous. She wanted a horse, but they didn’t have any wraith steeds she could ride, and she would have to concentrate a lot of energy just to not fall through one of theirs.
“Next horse we come across is mine.” She said.
“What do you mean?” Paul asked.
Do you just want to watch me float next to you in battle or ride a majestic steed, like you?” Liora said. “I’m starting to wonder if you’d give Rikkard a mount before me.”
Paul barked a laugh. “Rikkard wouldn’t ride one of the undead horses.”
Liora rolled her eyes. “I see.”
Rikkard stood a bit to their left with a small troop of his hobgoblins.
In the front of the lines were the zombies and skeletons, with the goblin and ogre troops behind them. They were all in a loose formation, ready to march forward towards the goblin village.
A hobgoblin came running from the brush and headed straight for Rikkard. They had a heated discussion, before Rikkard headed over to Paul and Liora.
“It appears we were expected.” Rikkard said. “There are around 200 goblins gathered. My scouts tell me they just showed up not 30 minutes ago. We have the advantage when it come to their extra troops. It will take them a while to get into formation, assuming they have one.”
“Where did all these extra troops come from?” Paul asked.
“I don’t know. I would assume the surrounding villages. Maybe they all had a defensive pact. Its not too common with all the infighting, but it does happen.”
Paul ran a hand through his beard. “Where are they?”
“About an hour west.”
“Let’s go.” As Paul spoke a goblin walked out of the brush from the west with a white flag raised. “A trick to buy time?”
“Most definitely.” Liora said.
“Let him pass.” Paul called out.
“Are you sure?” Rikkard asked, “We might as well kill him and move on.”
“If we start killing their messengers, they will start to kill ours.” Paul said.
Liora observed as the goblin with the white flag cautiously approached, its small frame trembling slightly. Goblins weren’t known for their bravery, especially when faced with an undead army. The sight of Paul atop his skeletal steed alone was enough to sap courage from even the boldest.
Her sharp eyes scanned the tree line behind the messenger. “I don’t trust this,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “They could be using him to distract us while they reposition.”
Paul nodded, his own gaze never leaving the goblin. “Perhaps. But every move they make reveals something. Let’s see what this one has to say.”
The goblin finally reached their line, visibly shaking as he looked up at Paul. His voice was high-pitched and wavering. “Great lord,” the goblin stuttered horribly, “of the dead, I bring a message from the chieftains.”
Paul leaned forward slightly in his saddle, his presence looming. “Speak.”
The goblin swallowed hard before continuing. “The chiefs of the villages have gathered to oppose you. They say this land is ours, not yours. If you leave now, they will not pursue you. But if you advance, they will fight to the last goblin.”
Liora snorted, folding her arms across her chest. “Bold words from a people who couldn’t stand against a single hobgoblin village on their own.”
Paul, however, appeared unfazed. “They’ve united, which is more than I expected. This changes things.”
Rikkard grumbled. “It’s just bluster. Goblins threaten to ‘fight to the last’ all the time. It rarely ends that way.”
Paul dismounted gracefully, his undead steed remaining unnervingly still behind him. He walked closer to the messenger, his dark cloak trailing in the dirt. “Tell your chiefs this, I am not here to take your land but to offer protection. Serve me, and you will prosper. Resist, and you will fall.” He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. “You have one hour to decide.”
The goblin’s eyes darted nervously between Paul, Liora, and the undead forces behind them. “I will relay your message.”
“See that you do,” Paul said, his voice cold as a winter breeze. He gestured for the goblin to leave, and the creature scurried back into the woods without a second glance.
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Liora watched him disappear into the shadows, her wraith senses tingling with unease. “You’re giving them time to regroup.”
Paul smiled faintly, a hint of mischief in his expression. “Let them. The more they show their hand, the more we’ll know about their numbers and strategy.”
Rikkard grunted in agreement. “If they do fight, it’ll be a slaughter. Goblins can’t match our forces.”
Paul turned to Liora, his eyes glinting with determination. “Keep an eye on the perimeter. If they’re planning anything, I want to know about it before they make their move.”
Liora inclined her head. “As you wish.” She vanished into the shadows, her wraith form melting into the darkness. As much as she disliked waiting, she trusted Paul’s plans… most of the time. This time, however, she felt he was making the wrong choice.
Paul remounted and walked his steed around the gathered forces along with Liora. After about 45 minutes they didn’t hear anything from the goblin forces. Finally, Paul said, “Let’s begin our march west. If they haven’t moved, we will hit them well after the grace period.”
“What if they marched this way?” Liora asked.
“Then we can assume they don’t intend to surrender.” Paul said.
A scout came running, “Worg riders!” He screamed at the top of his lungs. “Worg riders are coming!”
“Form up!” Rikkard roared. “Archers ready your bows. Living units get behind the skeletons and zombies.”
While Paul had the undead forces forming battle lines dozens of worg riders came out of the nearby trees. They were in a rough V formation. Goblin archers began shooting the moment they appeared.
In front of the charge was the largest worg Paul had ever seen. It was all black and the size of a horse. On its back was a giant hobgoblin, at least 8 feet tall. Behind it were more hobgoblin and goblins on the backs of more worgs. The archers took out several goblins and worgs before the beasts reached the front lines.
The worgs didn’t even attempt to slow down before they smashed into the undead line. Their V formation helped them break the zombie front and get into line with the skeletons behind them. Spears at the ready the skeletons began attacking the worg riders.
Liora made her way through there lines in an attempt to get closer to attack the worg riders directly. As she moved, giant balls of fire were lobbed overhead and into the worg riders, who were now stalled in the undead front lines.
Drawing on her own death tether she enhanced the skeletons around her, making them more resilient to attacks by the worg riders. She made her way to the front. Liora growled hatefully at the living opponents, she thirsted for their lives, and wanted nothing more than to snuff the life in them out. She raked her mist form hands through the first worg the got close to.
Her lifeless undead hands sucked the life out of the worg. It screamed pitifully as she kept raking her hands through it. As she was about to deal the death blow the hobgoblin rider jumped off the beast and tried to attack her.
He swung a great sword at her and all it did was pass through her as if she weren’t even there. She barely spared the hobgoblin a glance before turning back to the worg. With a final cry of victory, Liora ripped apart the life in the beast killing it.
Liora gathered death magic in her and turned back to the hobgoblin that was attacking her to no avail. After gathering enough mana for a spell, she shot a bolt of pure death into the hobgoblin’s soul, ripping it apart. With a deathly grin she turned back to her living opponents. It had been quite some time since she got the pleasure of killing.
She turned to see arrows flying overhead at the worgs in the back. The zombies closed the line trapping several worg riders with the skeletons. She looked up in time to see a massive fireball fly overhead and into the ranks of worg riders.
She could practically hear Paul’s laughter match her own. A small bit of fire followed the massive fireball Paul threw. She assumed the lesser bolt was from Grag. His castings were slower and weaker than Paul’s, but what else was to be expected from the fledgling wizard.
Seeing the skeletons were easily handling the worg riders with their spears Liora made her way to the front. Fighting with wild abandon was the giant worg and its hobgoblin rider. She could appreciate his will to fight, but now only saw him as an enemy that needed to be killed. Impressive or not. Making her way to the beast of a hobgoblin, she threw a bolt of death at him.
He easily shrugged off the spell. Liora ran forward and tried to rip the hobgoblin from his mount.
“I’ll not loose to you creature of death!” He roared. “I am Grandler of the Horn Throwing tribe. We will not surrender to live in the shadow of death forever!”
Liora grabbed his leg causing him to cry out. “Like Paul says, you can serve in this lifer or the next.” With a powerful pull she was able to manifest enough to pull him from his mount.
She cast a death bolt before he could rise. With the same vigor as the last one, he shrugged off the spell. Liora thrust her hand into the giant’s chest trying to grip his heart.
Grandler took a swing at Liora, and like all those before it went right through her. With a laugh she readied herself to launch at him again. Grandler easily dodged her attack and began rubbing something on his sword. She tried to swat the weapon away and made full contact with it.
“Dodge this, undead filth.” Grandler said.
Grandler took another swing at her with his great sword. A little wearier of it she tried to dodge, but her upper left shoulder caught some of the blade. Pain shot through her arm and shoulder.
Grandler had the power to harm her. This was a new development and quite a shock to Liora. She had never met anyone who could harm her. She wasn’t sure if it frightened her or not, or if she were a little excited.
He made his way forward, slashing at Liora every step of the way. She peered behind herself and saw the great worg which Grandler had rode in on. With a quick step and a feign she walked right through the worg and led Grandler to cut open the side of the great beast. The worg howled, but before it could do anything else she reached up and grabbed its heart and squeezed the life from it.
The worg died with a sad whimper. The death of the worg caused Grandler to yell. “You’ll die for that bitch.”
Liora laughed, “Ha, try, and like all the others you will be dust under my feet.”
Grandler raised his sword again, but before he could fully swing, a worg made of mist jumped on his back and flew right through him. Grandler grunted as he fell forwards, more of the life sapping harming him than the physical weight of the ghostly beast that attacked him.
Before Grandler could recover, Liora leapt forward and slashed through him. Taking little bits of his life force with each stroke. The hobgoblin, being far stronger than anyone she had ever seen before pushed her back with a swing of his sword.
The worg regaining its balance bit through Grandler’s shoulder. With a weak swing, he caught the worg in the belly with his enchanted sword. The worg cried out in pain, but didn’t bleed or loose any limbs.
With his attention on the worg, Grandler had his back to Liora, who reached in for the final death stroke. When her hand slid into his body, she could feel the last of his vitality flee his mortal form. With Grandler down and the riders shattered a horn blew for a retreat.
Liora looked up to see how bad the damage to her troops were. They appeared to have lost several dozen undead, but none of their living archers. Then she surveyed the death toll for the enemy. It looked like they lost 40 mounts and riders. Paul would have to raise them to fill the ranks of his already dead army.
It looked like only 20 or so riders and worgs survived the initial attack. Liora looked at the undead, then at the corpses of Grandler and his worg. Standing near them was the worg she had killed and raised as a wraith. She smiled evilly at the knowledge that she had sucked the life out of Grandler and his worg, soon they would rise as wraith and would serve her and Paul for eternity.
As soon as Grandler raised she walked over to him, “Now you serve me.”
“Yes, mistress.” He said painfully.
“How did you get a sword that could harm me?” Liora asked.
“A shaman from one of the united villages was an adventure once and had fought undead before. He knows how to make the ghost powder.”
“You will point out this shaman to me when we get close.” Liora said, “A creature with such knowledge needs to die. Now, come with me. I’m sure Paul and Rikkard want to know more about your allied forces and your strengths and weaknesses.”