The boy who was trolled
Chapter 24

…

The horde was on the march when he first felt his feet. The ground trembled under the stamp of a thousand bodies and the air was choked with the stench of man and beast.

It was a familiar scent, he remembered too well. He remembered the army, the blood, the carnage. His eyes opened, and he found himself awash in green. Filthy green, dusty green, goblin green.

He was shocked into full consciousness and stumbled a bit. A goblin next to him muttered a curse and the one behind shouted to keep going.

Catching his feet, he fell back into step among the grumbling green skins. Fully conscious now he became aware of something else that nearly made him stumble.

He was marching in the middle of a horde of goblins. Not the goblins he'd first met so many lifetimes earlier, nor were they the goblins of middle earth he had spent decades fighting. They were something between the two, not as tall as men but hardly midgets.

Though some were certainly shorter than others. He for example, he was shorter than others, he was shorter than all who surrounded him. He, a gangly green skinned goblin.

This was a new twist.

He'd never been in a body that wasn't his. Regardless of the age he had always been plain old human Harry. His sense felt off and his perception of space was shot, it was taking most of his concentration just to walk without falling on his face.

Though he would soon have greater concerns than just walking. A roar from the front of the army got everyone's attention and the pace accelerated.

The enemy had been spotted.

Their attempts to form up in units was pathetic and Harry found himself shoved up next to a five headed hydra, one of three he could see were part of their force.

"Bite, crush, tear! Can't wait, can't wait!" the hydra hissed.

Harry recognized the serpent tongue but didn't bother to comment. The hydra was eager, why bring him down? Looking at the force they were arrayed against it was obvious they would all be dead soon anyway.

The force standing across the valley was significantly smaller, but Harry could tell just at a glance theirs was no hastily assembled horde. They stood in perfect formation, each kind of unit separated into its own cohort. This was a professional army. They stood, patient and stoic against the baying horde. Their armor and weapons shone in the late morning sun while bright white and blue banners fluttered in the wind.

Looking at the tiny stone headed axe in his belt and the miniscule pocket of stones for the sling wrapped round his wrist, Harry couldn't help but chuckle. The situation was, as Kazuma might have said, totally broken. He was fighting a battle with no understanding of any aspect of the situation with a bunch of eager amateurs against a professional force, and he wasn't even leading the damn army.

"Who is leading this damn army?" he wondered aloud.

"There he is!" someone shouted.

He rode on a powerful horse, a massive form with muscles like coiled serpents. He wore a metal cap ringed in fur over a head of messy black hair and a simple leather breast plate made in almost scale like fashion. The sword he held was clearly magical, the frosted blade smoked as he held it aloft.

The horde screamed at his presence and he rode his horse up and down the lines, riling them higher and higher in preparation for the attack.

A human, massive and savage but still, a human. What sort of crazy world was he in? Not only was he part of a goblin horde, but he was part of a goblin horde being led by a human, and it wasn't him.

"I have a bad feeling about this."

"Aw, don't be such a sissy" another goblin screamed.

Harry looked at the other, trying to memorize his face. There was little doubt in his mind this goblin and all but a handful currently screaming at the top of their lungs, would be silent before the day was over.

… One epic FAIL of a battle later

The small pack of goblins and the injured hydra rested in a grotto of boulders at the edge of the desert. Two days they'd been on the run since the debacle that had obliterated the biggest horde assembled in the past hundred years. Or so he'd been told. One of the survivors was a crotchety old thing that like to tell stories. He had been the one to lead them this far, and this far was all there was as far as he was concerned.

The goblin tribes lived on the desert's borders. Once they were rested, they'd find one of the wandering bands and join up with them and wait for the next barbarian king or nomad prince who needed to throw together a quick army and the process would start all over again.

That was entirely unacceptable in Harry's opinion. He thought it might just be the human in him till one of the others said something.

"So that's really it? Scurry back to the desert like a bunch of rats and wait to do it again!"

"It's not our place to be the hero of the tale" said the old one with a sigh.

He'd clearly had this discussion before. Maybe even been on the other side of it at one point.

"Why? Why can't we be heroes? Why is the honor and glory reserved for them?"

"That's just the way it is" the young goblins temper was rising but it turned to ice when they heard the sound of pounding hooves.

"They followed us!"

The old one frowned, "I hadn't thought they'd bother. Damn!"

The grotto they were in provided excellent cover from the elements by having what amounted to high walls on all sides and only a single way in or out. That same defense also meant they had but one way to escape and it was about to be filled with armed men intent on their deaths. Harry looked at his fellows, the anger, fear, and utter despair that play across their faces. He knew it. He'd felt it.

Mind made up, he approached the hydra and hissed a few words to it. Its two living heads nodded and dragged the third, made headless in the battle, along beside it. The head would regenerate and duplicate in time, but only with rest, and sustenance.

"What are you doing?" the old one asked, having already accepted his fate.

Harry turned to the old one with eyes as hard as steel, "You said there are no heroes among our kind. I beg to differ."

Stepping under the stones that created the entrance to the grotto Harry saw ten mounted knights riding toward him. The hydra stepped up behind him and blocked the entrance and the knights slowed before coming to a stop.

"Good afternoon gentleman" he greeted.

The knights responded to his greeting with a crossbow.

Any number of spells he knew could have removed the tiny arrow as a threat in the blink of an eye. With his ki he could have moved at speeds fast enough to throw the arrow back before the bowman could have blinked. He had access to neither of these things. He wasn't sealed, he could feel both, but his new body was not attuned to them like he was used to. His magic felt distant, out of touch, and his ki was just completely out of whack.

His hand shot up and intercepted the bolt, stopping it half way through his hand. He didn't' even flinch. Compared to what he'd been through before, this was nothing.

"Was that really necessary?" he said calmly, pulling the bolt through his hand and using his sling as a makeshift tourniquet.

The lead knight grunted, "I'd heard your kind were none too bright, but I didn't realize you were this stupid."

"Is that so" said Harry, placidly looking up at the knight like he hadn't just been shot.

Unnerved by the unintimidated little green skin the knight asked, "What are you doing?"

"I came to make you an offer" said Harry, "Turn around, ride away, and I won't kill all of you, here and now."

The knights stared at the presumptuous goblin dumbfounded. His statement was so absurd as to be even beyond laughable.

The lead knight shook his head and drew his sword, "I am just going to kill you now."

Harry shrugged, "I did offer to let you live."

The knight came forward and swung his shining sword, cutting nothing but air. His new body, smaller and lighter than his old one, had an excellent jump and Harry used that to leap over the blade and into the knight's face where he took the crossbow bolt and shoved it through his eye and into his brain. The knight slid from the saddle, dead. His horse hardly reacted to losing its rider or having a goblin standing on its back. The other knights stared again. What had just happened?

"That's one" said Harry, making the question moot.

"Kill it!"

The shouts and cries of battle echoed through the grotto. The other goblins sat watching the entrance unable to see the battle even after the hydra stepped out to join it. The ordeal lasted only a few minutes then all was silent. That lasted until the sound of tearing flesh and breaking bone began. Curiosity overwhelmed them, and the little group went to see the outcome. They were stunned. Ten knights, fully armored, all dead. Their horses had either fled or lay nearby, being swiftly devoured by the hydra.

"So" said Harry, sitting atop his commandeered steed, "I think I've proved my point."

The old one just nodded dumbly.

"Good."

"You, you did this, how?" stammered the younger.

"Would you like me to show you?"

There was no hiding how much the prospect appealed to him. Harry grinned inwardly.

"And what about the rest of you? Are you tired of being the cannon fodder of would be king's and conquerors? Are you ready to be something more?"

They didn't answer right away, but he could see he had ignited something in them that hadn't been there before. The gods could wait. He had a horde, no, a nation to build.