3rd Day of Flocktime, 565 CY
Drachensgrab Hills, The Pomarj
Gulyet's face fell.
"Dead?" she repeated disbelievingly, hoping that she had heard wrong.
The hobgoblin nodded. He didn't look at the goblin adept, but rather stared uneasily at the winter wolf beneath her. The creature's unearthly blue eyes seemed to pulse through the small cloud of ice crystals it generated when it breathed.
He continued. "We heard the captain fall. We," he hesitated, "regrouped. I was chosen to inform you, and to find out whom else may be available to aid us. The humans are still holed up in the officers' quarters, and from what I saw when Stalworth broke through, only four are still alive, and all near death. Sergeant Roryx is still planning to rush them from both sides. I don't know exactly when he's going to give the order, but it might be at any moment."
The hobgoblin finished, rubbing his chin and looking back up at the gatehouse's third floor, frowning. Gulyet could tell he wasn't sure if he wanted to be back up there, but it was clear he certainly didn't want to be here, talking to a mere goblin.
Gulyet grumbled loudly in her throat, giving the impression she was considering the hob's request when in fact she was displaying her dislike of him. Rime of course knew her mistress' body language and snarled just so at the large goblinoid, but Gulyet's six goblin bodyguards also choked up on their spears a little and increased their glowers at the hobgoblin.
Not intimidated by them, the hobgoblin snarled back. Gulyet was not paying attention, though. She was thinking about how this had started out as just another night, and how it had all somehow gone terribly wrong.
She hadn't even wanted to be outside, above ground, in the first place. It had been required, however. The actual hobgoblin priest, Adhu Nazeryet, had been gone for almost a week now. The chief of the Dripping Pus tribe (only a hob would think up a stupid name like that, she grimaced) had summoned Adhu back to their territory, and he was not expected back for another week at the earliest.
And so Gulyet had been forced to conduct Maglubiyet's ceremonies for the hobgoblins as well as for the dungeon's goblin contingent. She didn't mind that too much. Although not a true cleric, she was the spiritual leader for the fort's goblins, and could expand that for the hobs when needed. She knew the big goblinoids didn't really like her, though. Snide comments and jibes would follow her sometimes, and they never listened to her like they did to Nazeryet.
And so, rather than being at Markessa's side as her apprentice, Gulyet had been pulling security duty tonight. She hated that, although it did at least give her the chance to ride Rime.
The goblin kept one hand on the reins while absentmindedly stroking Rime's white fur with her other hand. The winter wolf was still a pup, about five months old and only about half her full-grown size. Markessa's agents had acquired the wolf cub from the black market in Highport, and she had given the pup to Gulyet to raise, on condition that she be used in the defense of the fort when needed. The two had bonded fast, although the goblin had only been riding her for about three weeks now. It was made clear to the adept that when Rime became too big for Gulyet to ride anymore, she was to surrender her to someone else of Markessa's choosing.
Gulyet didn't like to think about that, so the goblin pushed that thought aside. She figured that was five or six months away at least, so she and Rime could remain together for a while. And besides, she certainly couldn't fault Markessa. The master of the slavers' stockade genuinely seemed to like having the goblin as her apprentice.
And considering who Markessa was, that was very unusual.
It probably helped that Gulyet had a strong stomach.
The adept shook her head. She was again getting distracted. The goblin frowned and tugged at the collar of her chainmail armor. It was magical and had been taken off a recently arrived slave; a female gnome warrior of some kind. Gulyet had heard that magic armor resized itself to fit anyone of similar size, but that clearly wasn't true. The armor was as tight around the neck, uncomfortable on her shoulders and loose on the sleeves as it had been the day she'd been given it. She only hoped that if it ever came down to actual battle, the discomfort would be worth it.
"Besides Roryx, what other officers are left?" she asked.
The hobgoblin's eyes went dull for a moment as it thought.
"Sergeant Herash on the curtain wall. As far as I know, that's it. The others- Chork, Griston, Kezz- all dead." The goblinoid then regarded Gulyet again, as if it were daring her to come up with an order that sounded smart enough for him to follow- voluntarily, of course.
Gulyet sighed, adjusting herself in the saddle. She'd been astride Rime for most of the night, and her rear was hurting something fierce, but there was no way she was going to dismount right now and have to crane her neck to stare up at this oaf.
She'd been surprised when the alarm went out that intruders had been spotted on the parade grounds. She'd been taking a quick break in the stables, both her and Rime grabbing a few hunks of beef (smoked for her, raw for Rime). Gulyet admitted to a secret feeling of relief when the invaders had managed to penetrate the fort proper before she could engage them. The adept really didn't like combat, and certainly not a straight-up fight with what by all accounts was a band of terrifyingly powerful humans.
Then, when word came that the intruders had slain Commander Icar and were trapped in the kitchen, she had been stunned. The imposing human had always treated Gulyet kindly. In fact, he treated everyone the same. Gulyet assumed that because the giant man couldn't see, everyone was the same to him, and of course, no one ever dared to treat the Commander with anything but the utmost respect. She couldn't believe that anyone could ever kill him, but then the rumors started that one of the invaders was also a Kara-Turan, and what's more, a samurai warrior; the same as Icar.
Then Captain Stalworth had called Gulyet over and told him that Lieutenant Kairn was going to lead the charge to slay the humans inside. She had actually felt a brief pang of concern. She liked the half-orc. He wasn't as consistently kind to her as Icar was, but he was smart and strong and appreciated Gulyet for her skills. Captain Stalworth treated her all right as well, but maintained a certain aloofness from the adept, treating her as a useful tool more than anything else.
It was Stalworth who had created the backup plan for a squadron of hobs to attack the invaders silently and invisibly, should they escape from Kairn's troops. Gulyet herself was only to attack as a last resort, which suited her just fine. Then, Kairn came running out of the fortress at full speed, looking almost panic-stricken. That had made Gulyet feel so nervous, she'd nearly fallen off her mount. She had cast her last invisibility spell on the lieutenant as he requested, and then retreated to watch the battle. Captain Stalworth, in a last-second change of plan, had placed Kairn in charge and had himself retreated to the gatehouse. "A backup for our backup," he had said with a grim look.
Gulyet didn't know if that was typical behavior for humans. She didn't know many humans.
And she didn't know whether Blackthorn qualified.
Then the humans had come charging back out of the inner courtyard as predicted. Gulyet had been astounded to see that one of them had been petrified and was being carried by two others. This amazed the adept on two counts. First, the rumors that Icar actually had an imprisoned medusa as a treasure guard were apparently true and second, that humans were a lot stronger than she thought they were. It was only later that she had guessed that magic might have been at work there.
The goblin had smiled as Stalworth's trap went off as planned, and the humans were pulled down. Most of them, anyway. The samurai proved to be just as awesome a fighter as Icar and started laying hobs waste left and right. Distracted by this, Gulyet had only a momentary glimpse of Lieutenant Kairn carrying one of the humans' two mages back into the inner courtyard, no doubt to dispose of him there without interference. Then there had been a flash of light, a brief pause, and then two more flashes. Gulyet had guessed the worst, and it was confirmed later when they found the half-orc's charred, blasted body. The wizard, apparently having set off some kind of contingent fireballs or something, had fared even worse. Nothing of him was recovered same some charred pieces of clothing and the melted and ruined contents of his backpack- including the remains of a spellbook. That had been too bad. She would have liked to have recovered that.
The samurai just would not go down, and the others started regrouping. Gulyet was screaming for every available hobgoblin to reinforce their troops, but with the loss of Kairn and Stalworth nowhere in sight, their morale was starting to slip, and as she had feared, the hobs showed little inclination to obey her.
Then a squad of curtain wall hobgoblins, Herash's troops, having not yet seen the power of these humans firsthand, came rushing in. The samurai finally went down, but the humans had grabbed his body and retreated into the gatehouse, their other wizard having killed who knows how many hobs inside with a lightning bolt.
Gulyet had tried to assume command, but her efforts achieved limited results as best. It was all she could do to keep the soldiers from panicking and deserting the stockade entirely. There had been a brief period of relative calm when it was ascertained that the humans were once again trapped, this time somewhere on the third floor of the gatehouse. Gulyet had been certain that Captain Stalworth and Sundancer would put an end to this menace once and for all.
But now he was dead, too.
The goblin sighed. There's nothing for it, she thought. We need help. I have to send word down to the dungeon. One of them has to come up here, or we'll all perish for sure.
Gulyet bit her lip.
But which one?
It wasn't really a decision, no matter how much she might pretend otherwise. Deep down, Gulyet knew this. Markessa was certainly be a capable combatant, and ordinarily the adept wouldn't have a moment's hesitation that she could finish off the intruders, especially in their weakened state.
However, thirty minutes ago, she would have thought the same about Commander Icar.
Furthermore, Markessa was their leader and as far as Gulyet knew, had no more love of battle than she did. It was known for sure that she could erupt into a terrible rage if disturbed while working, and other goblins were not immune to the repercussions of that anger. Gulyet didn't want to risk spoiling her unique relationship with her master.
That left Blackthorn.
Gulyet closed her eyes. She didn't like Blackthorn. In fact, she hated him. That was all right to admit though, because everybody hated Blackthorn, with the possible exception of his three personal bodyguards. Blackthorn was even more likely than Markessa to kill someone who summoned him without what he considered due cause. Even Markessa hated Blackthorn, and Gulyet knew that the only reason she tolerated him was that he had been assigned here by...
The goblin opened her eyes before even more unsettling thoughts could establish a foothold and glanced again at the hobgoblin. The brute had lost interest in the stare down and was now trying to scratch underneath his leather armor at a spot Gulyet wasn't particularly interested in looking at. The adept turned her attention to her six goblin attendants.
Which one did she like the least at the moment? None of them had annoyed her of late. More so than usual, at any rate.
"Tcherg," Gulyet said, addressing the poor unfortunate who had been the last to turn his eyes away.
The goblin continued to look at the hob's legs, as if he hadn't heard her.
"Tcherg," Gulyet repeated.
The small goblinoid sighed and slowly raised his eyes to her. "Yes, my mistress?"
The adept leaned forward. "Go down to the dungeon and get Blackthorn. You know what the situation is. Explain it to him."
Tcherg tried to work his mouth, but nothing other than a little drool came out. Gulyet noticed that even the hobgoblin was looking concerned.
"I'd rather face his anger at bringing him up now here than his anger when we tell him the humans have escaped." Gulyet's statement was for everyone in listening range.
"Does that mean I can say I'm requesting his help on your authority, mistress?" Tcherg squeaked.
You damn jackal. If Blackthorn gets angry, that won't save your sorryass hide, Gulyet thought. "Yes, Tcherg, you can say that."
His eyes firmly fixed on the ground in front of him, Tcherg slowly walked off towards the inner courtyard. Gulyet noticed the silver moonlight reflecting off the metal shortspear that the goblin was dragging behind him.
She glanced upwards at Luna. Gulyet was skilled in reading signs in the clouds of the daytime sky. It was said that a very skilled seer could even discern omens in the faint patterns sometimes visible in the ever-present veil that covered the face of Oerth's larger moon.
Oh, great Maglubiyet, she prayed. Show that you are mightier than the gods of the humans. Give me a sign that I may-
Gulyet stopped suddenly in dismay as a small cloud she hadn't noticed before slowly covered the face of the full moon.
The adept dropped her head down, while trying to steady her suddenly wildly beating heart. She clenched and unclenched her fists several times, and then looked over at the hobgoblin again. The soldier was looking upwards with a slight frown on his face. He then turned and regarded Gulyet again. The hob's arrogance was gone. Now he only looked nervous.
Gulyet chewed on her lip again. "What's your name?" she asked him, trying to keep any trace of impatience out of her voice.
The hobgoblin hesitated for a moment, and then replied, "Yaruk."
"Gather what forces you can together, Yaruk" Gulyet said quietly. "If Sergeant Roryx means to rush the humans from both sides, you'll also need to cover the trap door in the floor, to prevent them from fleeing that way. We don't want those humans coming back out here, do we?" she finished with as intense a stare as she could manage under the circumstances.
Yaruk seemed to get at least the general picture. The hobgoblin slowly nodded assent, looked back towards the east tower, and then back at Gulyet. He now bore an almost sheepish expression. That was never an easy fit on a hob face.
I need the keys to the tower door," he mumbled.
She frowned. "Didn't you just come from there?"
Yaruk shifted from foot to foot, blowing steam through his nostrils. "I closed the door behind me when I came out," he said, and then looked back up at Gulyet. "I didn't want the humans to escape!" he added in a defiant tone.
The goblin couldn't stop her eyes from rolling. Of course you didn't, Yaruk, she thought. How far thinking for a hob, you moron. Yaruk, having caught Gulyet's eye roll, was scowling at her again, and the adept suddenly wanted to get rid of him one way or the other. This just wasn't worth the effort.
"The sergeants have the keys, don't they?" she demanded crossly. She saw the hob glance back north, towards the curtain wall, so she cut off his train of thought. "Don't waste time going to Herash!" Gulyet pointed towards the massive pile of hobgoblin corpses in the eastern half of the parade grounds. "I'm sure one of the other sergeants is decaying in there somewhere- get the keys from him. Now move!"
Yaruk's eyes went wide, and a truly vicious snarl began on his lips, but was cut off instantly by a thin layer of frost that coated his entire upper body.
Rime had won the snarling contest. Yaruk stalked off, throwing a hateful glance over his shoulder as his gait picked up in pace.
The goblin adept was watching Yaruk's retreating form when underneath her Rime suddenly began growling.
"What is it, Rime?"
The winter wolf continued looking towards the east. Her gaze was not on Yaruk, or seemingly any of the other hobgoblins about. The animal's head slowly moved back and forth, her nose sniffing furiously.
Gulyet could see nothing and couldn't really concentrate on this right now. In addition to all her other aches and pains, she now had a splitting headache. She leaned in low over her mount and slowly stroked her ivory fur.
"It's all right, girl. You're just nervous. I am, too. It's been a rough night, but it'll be all over soon. Either those stupid hobs will actually get lucky and finish off the humans, or," and here Gulyet's mouth grew taut, and her grip tighter, "Blackthorn will take care of it."
Rime turned her head to eye her mistress. A sound that might almost have been a whimper escaped the wolf's throat as if there were something it wanted to convey to her, but couldn't.
Gulyet patted her fur. Don't worry, Rime," she said, straightening up now. "We'll be the ultimate victors here tonight. I think those accursed humans have run out of surprises at last."
Yaruk was still muttering. When he wasn't blowing on his hands and trying to rub the frost off his face, that is.
The other half-dozen or so hobgoblins about looked up from their work of piling corpses to catch his arrival. Several grinned at him, which only soured Yaruk's mood further. He waded into the corpse pile, shouting "I need the keys to the east tower! Some of us actually have fighting to do tonight!"
"About time you started, Yaruk! You look pretty fresh so far!" a hobgoblin nursing the bandage-wrapped stump of it's right hand shouted back.
" It's not my fault if you fight like a gob! Cry to your mate and don't bother me about it!" Yaruk yelled in response as he picked his way carefully through the pile of death. Oddly, the bodies were still arranged in a ring fashion, leaving a five-foot diameter hole in the center. Apparently, this was where the human samurai had made his last stand. Yaruk could still see the human's backpack, lying torn apart and picked through. For a moment, he wondered if there had been any good swag in there, but then shook that thought off. He had a job to do and would be very happy to get it done before Blackthorn showed up. He hoped the horrid human would vent his anger on Gulyet. That arrogant gob and her stupid wolf pup deserved to be at the bottom of this corpse heap, as far as Yaruk was concerned.
He eventually found the remains of Sergeant Griston. It wouldn't have taken as long if his head and body hadn't been so far apart from each other.
Yaruk grabbed the key ring and then straightened up, listening to the muscles in his back crack as he stretched. He was about to start gathering his fellow hobgoblins together when he noticed something out of the corner of his eye.
On the far eastern edge of the parade grounds was a steep pile of earth and broken stone; it lay underneath the rampart parapets situated about twenty-five feet above.
There was a rope hanging down from one of the parapets.
Yaruk slowly walked over to the rope. No one else was about.
There was nothing exceptional looking about it, he saw. It was perhaps a quarter-inch thick. The rope was wrapped several times around one of the inward-facing parapets of the rampart above. About five feet or so of the rope lay coiled on the ground.
The hobgoblin stared upwards, frowning. Had one of the humans tied this here on their initial foray, intending to use it as a possible escape route later on? That seemed logical, although he couldn't quite figure out how they had managed to tie the rope around the parapet from down here. And if it had been hanging here that long, why hadn't the perimeter guards noticed the rope by now, and removed it?
Yaruk was about to call out to the guards above when he heard something.
It was a short phrase, spoken by someone very close by.
The hobgoblin whirled about. He saw no one.
Yaruk hadn't understood the voice. He was pretty sure the language was the tongue of humankind, but who would-
From behind, the end of the rope suddenly wrapped itself several times around Yaruk's neck.
Yaruk gasped and pulled at the coils with both hands, the keys falling to the ground forgotten. His eyes bulged as they flew about wildly. There was still no one about- the damn rope was doing it on its own!
The hobgoblin pulled with all his might and managed to stop any further constriction. The chokehold was still too tight for him to cry out for aid, but if he could just reach his dagger-
Again the unseen voice spoke an unintelligible word.
Knots began appearing in the rope at one-foot intervals. With each knot, the rope jerked and shortened. Yaruk was lifted off his feet.
He couldn't hold out against the added pressure. Other hobgoblins were running towards him now, but it was too late. Yaruk's arms flailed uselessly even as the choking turned into a strangling, which turned into darkness.
When the hobbies had finished cutting Yaruk's body down and someone finally thought to look for the keys, they were nowhere to be found.
Sergeant Herash nervously paced the western walkway on top of the curtain wall.
The hobgoblin officer's hands were clutched tightly on his bow. He squinted constantly, peering at the outer courtyard beneath him. An occasional hobgoblin could be seen running to or from the archway of the gatehouse, but that was about it. Faint shouts could be heard coming from the gatehouse and beyond.
Herash wiped the cold sweat off his forehead with his hairy forearm yet again. This was bad. Things were not going well at all.
He didn't know what was going on right now. The last update he had received was that the intruders were holed up in the officers' quarters in the gatehouse, and that Captain Stalworth was preparing to storm the room. Dozens of his fellow hobgoblins were said to be lying dead on the parade grounds and inside the fortress itself. Some of his troops were saying that the so-called humans were really demons in disguise.
He was luckier than most, he supposed. Herash only had twelve hobgoblins under his command. Three were dead, and six others were currently on the parade grounds. Herash didn't know whom they were currently reporting to.
The gatehouse and the fortress had taken terrific casualties, the hobgoblin messenger boy had said. Perhaps four dozen between them, including Lieutenant Kairn and of course, Commander Icar. The sergeant gulped and exchanged a nervous and patently fake grin with the lone soldier sharing the walkway with him. He was young and newly assigned as a soldier. Herash looked out after him, determined that the youth would soon be a fine warrior and worthy of his post.
The sergeant looked out again over the nighttime scene. By The Mighty One, Herash knew that even more heads were going to roll once this was over, and he wanted to make sure no one could find any fault for what he had done during this assault. He wasn't going to do anything rash or stupid. He would-
"Sergeant..." the sound was a choked off gasp, born of terror.
Herash looked over to his left. The soldier was standing about ten feet away, looking straight down the stone wall. He was pointing down with his right hand, his face a study in horror. The officer followed his man's gaze.
Right below them, a white mist was issuing forth from one of the arrow slits. One of the arrow slits on the second floor.
As the two hobgoblins stood, rooted to the spot, the mist slowly assumed a rough goblinoid shape. Two dark holes near the top might have been eyes.
Silently, it started to slowly rise towards them.
"No… this isn't possible..." Herash whispered.
Judging from the scream that suddenly erupted from his subordinate's throat, the sergeant's opinion was not a unanimous one. The younger hobgoblin then bolted for the door to the western guard tower, yanked it open and ducked inside.
Herash was right behind him.
The two hobgoblins on the eastern walkway spun around as Herash and his subordinate came tearing out of the eastern guard tower.
"It's- it's coming!" The younger one shouted, trying to take deep breaths at the same time.
The two soldiers looked at each other, then back at the new arrivals. "What's coming?" one of them asked.
"The haunt- the haunt from below!"
The other soldier made a face of contempt. "Impossible! It can't leave the second floor- you know that! Adhu said-"
"Here it comes!" Herash shrieked.
And indeed, the creature now came serenely floating through the open doorway of the eastern guard tower.
Four hobgoblins bolted for the far end of the walkway. Leaning up against the south wall there was the stockade's spare ladder. Herash silently thanked Captain Stalworth for the human's insistence on keeping an extra one in stock.
"Don't push! Hold on! One at a time!" he shouted.
It was in vain. The three hobgoblin soldiers were piling onto the top of the ladder, clawing and shoving. Herash gasped as the youth swung outwards, holding on by one hand and one foot, but he managed to regain the ladder. The sergeant glanced back. The haunt had slowed down to almost immobility, but it was still inching forward. It almost seemed that short tendrils of mist were reaching out from it.
"Not on my watch!" Herash yelled out with a sudden surge of bravery. He moved over to the ladder and grabbed hold of it, determined that the panic of his charges, while shameful, was not going to result in their deaths. One of the older soldiers, apparently thinking that Herash was trying to get on board the ladder as well, grabbed his right hand and flung it off.
"Stop it, you fool!" the sergeant bellowed. "Calm down! You don't need to-"
The ladder began to pull away from the wall.
"No!" Herash yelled, trying to get his right hand back on the ladder. The three goblinoids on the ladder, feeling what was happening, increased their struggling even more.
Herash screamed out with the effort of holding on, but he suddenly realized there was more at work here.
Something was pulling the ladder away.
Herash leaned over the wall. There was no one down there, but the officer could tell from the feel that the opposing force was coming from below, where it had more leverage than he did.
With a mighty jerk, the ladder tore free from Herash's left hand. The young soldier grabbed wildly for Herash's right hand, but their fingers only touched briefly.
Four screams rent the night air, but only one lasted more than a few seconds.
What's going on?" Gulyet shouted.
No one answered her. Hobgoblins were running north, heading towards the outer courtyard. Gulyet heard a terrible crash, not unlike the one she had heard earlier tonight.
Not again, she thought.
This was not going to happen again, the goblin vowed to herself through clenched teeth. Blackthorn was not going to come out here to find another scene of chaos. She knew he would go straight to her, demanding answers she would not be able to give.
"Ride, Rime!"
The adept spurred her mount forward, and the two dashed towards the open gatehouse portcullis. Despite themselves, hobs stood aside for her as the moonlight brightened slightly and Luna again shone down unfettered.
It was as bad as Gulyet had feared. Their ladder- their second ladder, lay flat on the slope of the outer courtyard. Only now it was three bodies who lay sprawled unmoving nearby, rather than just one.
She ignored the hobs rushing to check on their fallen comrades and turned her attention upwards.
A lone hobgoblin- Sergeant Herash, she guessed, was standing atop the eastern walkway. It looked like he had his sword out, and was swinging at- some kind of mist?
Gulyet had Rime trot up to within about twenty feet of the curtain wall's foundation. Craning her neck, the adept could just barely make see the sergeant above. What was that he was fighting? It almost looked like-
Gulyet's eyes widened. No, she thought. It can't be!
The goblin's eyes suddenly narrowed. And it's not. Not tonight. Too many coincidences tonight.
And Gulyet let her power flow.
"Herash!"
The hobgoblin sergeant, swinging wildly in panic at the amorphous mist in front of him, looked around frantically.
That's Gulyet's voice, he thought, but it sounds like she's right here! What's going on?
The voice of the goblin continued to come from the thin air beside him.
"Listen to me, Herash! That is not the haunt before you! It is an illusion- my powers tell me this! I am in the courtyard below you, using a spell called ventriloquism to speak to you. Look and see!"
Is this a trick? Wondered Herash, but the hobgoblin slowly backed away from the haunt, towards the southern wall, and glanced down.
It was Gulyet, all right, mounted on Rime, her winter wolf pup. The goblin waved at him.
Herash eyed the mist again, slowly resheathed his sword, and then grabbed his bow, drew an arrow and fired as fast as he could. The shaft sped right through the haunt.
And then there was no more haunt. It had vanished.
"We're under attack, Herash!" Gulyet's disembodied voice continued. "I don't know by who or what, but I'm going to try and find out! Be warned- Blackthorn has been summoned and is on his way up! Stand fast and be alert!"
Herash looked again, but he only caught a brief glimpse of the goblin as she and her mount thundered back through the gatehouse archway.
As Gulyet returned to the parade grounds, she could see that her five remaining goblin retainers had been shunted off to the west. More hobs, perhaps seven or eight, were coming out of the inner courtyard. Gulyet recognized them as belonging to the guard tower garrison- the late Sergeant Kezz's troops. She slowed down and pulled Rime to the right, where the other goblins encircled her again.
An idea was starting to form in Gulyet's head.
A terrible idea.
One of the newly arrived hobs, a brute with a large scar bisecting his forehead lengthwise, spotted the adept and came striding towards her.
"You!" he shouted angrily. "Did you summon Blackthorn?"
Gulyet has absolutely no patience left for the kowtowing this idiot was obviously expecting.
"Yes, I did!" she shouted back. "And where in Acheron is he? We'll all be dead soon if he doesn't bother to show his face!"
The hobgoblin was momentarily taken aback. He hadn't expected her to criticize Blackthorn (no one criticized Blackthorn, even obliquely), nor had he expected such a grim appraisal of their situation.
"Well, he's coming," he grumbled, "Although he doesn't seem to be in any particular hurry. Things had better be as bleak as you say," he scowled at her. "We don't need any-
A sudden cacophony came from the tower. Not the east tower, though. The west tower. The stables.
It sounded like every animal within had suddenly gone berserk.
"You were saying?" Gulyet shouted, Rime already carrying her towards the scene, her assistants struggling to keep up.
Just as the adept approached the west tower, the animals came charging out.
Since the door of the stables faced towards the west, and the pile of earth and broken stone on that side, no one was immediately trampled. Gulyet could see their horses, mules, cows and oxen all running in abject terror. It was a sea of white, rolled-up eyes, frothing mouths and thundering hooves.
The stampede turned when they hit the barrier at the edge of the stockade wall, and was now heading southeast, right towards Gulyet and her allies. One ox went off-course as the empty wagon it was hitched to overturned, but the others pressed on in a cloud of dust.
Gulyet shifted her position and jerked the reins, and Rime veered off to the right. Four of her retainers just managed to jump away in time as well, but the fifth made the mistake of throwing his shortspear into the approaching dust cloud. Gulyet didn't see whether the spear hit anything, but the resulting scream moments later left no doubt as to its hurler's fate.
Gulyet had no magic that was of direct aid here, so she steered Rime around the animals and headed into the stables. Three younger hobgoblins, two males and a female, were huddled in a corner together. One of the boys appeared to have an leg that was badly hurt; possibly broken.
"They just went crazy!" the uninjured boy was yelling. "We heard someone talking, but we couldn't understand him, or even see him. Then the animals went mad! Kyorg here tried to stop them, but-"
But Gulyet had already turned Rime around and was heading out.
"Hey!" the boy shouted out after her. "Come back here and heal Kyorg, you stupid gob!"
The adept hardly heard him as she rode off. Not that it mattered anyway; she had used up all of her healing prayers long ago this night.
A spell, thought the adept, as that terrible idea in her head grew stronger. A spell caused those beasts to run amok.
The hobs still in the parade grounds all looked very nervous now. A few were still chasing the animals that were running around the grounds perimeter, but most were either talking in groups of two or three or starting to edge their way northwards, towards the gatehouse arch. The pile of hobgoblin bodies lay unattended to. Three of Gulyet's remaining four goblins were wailing over the body of the fifth one.
Gulyet ran her hand through her hair. Her headache wasn't getting any better, and this wasn't-
"Gulyet! Mistress!"
That was her other goblin. Clix, she thought. His voice was also coming from the north.
The adept looked that way. Clix was heading back towards her, but more hobs were heading the other way, past the gatehouse portcullis and down the slope of the outer courtyard. Slowly, almost dreading what she might hear, she had Rime trot forward to meet him.
"Mistress!" Clix panted as he pulled to a stop, breathing heavily and leaning on his shortspear stuck into the ground. "We- we are trapped! The drawbridge- we cannot get to it- it..."
"What are you babbling about?" Gulyet yelled, more loudly than she, or her throbbing forehead, really wanted to.
The goblin caught his breath and looked up at the adept.
"Ice, my mistress. Ice!"
Gulyet shifted in her saddle as she sat silently upon Rime, staring at the scene in front of her. Clix and the others silently came up behind.
A short tunnel, roughly ten feet in all dimensions, contained the outer portcullis that led to the small drawbridge that was the only entrance and exit to the stockade.
A solid wall of ice filled the tunnel. Gulyet couldn't see how thick it was from here but judging from the frantic efforts of the hobgoblins now massing in front of the wall, hacking and chopping with their weapons, it was thick enough to last a while.
Those goblinoids not involved in trying to breach the ice had retreated again to the parade grounds. A low rumble of discontent from back there was swiftly growing to a roar. Gulyet closed her eyes, but only for a moment. She had a job to do. Feeling like a ball being batted back and forth between two children, the goblin spurred her faithful mount back to the south.
She could hardly get through the portcullis this time. Hobs were coming back northwards again. Lots of them this time. In fact, more than she had known were outside earlier. Using Rime, she bullied her way through them, ignoring their shouts and threats. Gaining the parade grounds, she turned left.
It was again as she had feared. The door to the east tower was open, and hobgoblins were pouring out, yelling wildly and heading for the archway. Morale was starting to collapse even as Gulyet watched.
Damn your ugly eyes, Blackthorn! Where are you?
She moved as close as she dared to the fleeing mob.
"What's going on? Why are you deserting your posts?" Gulyet yelled, loud enough to make her nearly cry from the pain of her pounding head.
"We're not going to stay here to die!" one of the hobs shouted back. "There are invisible assassins everywhere! Haven't you heard? How are we supposed to fight that?"
That seemed to trigger an avalanche of shouted statements and questions.
"I heard that even Markessa is dead, but Blackthorn won't tell us!"
"Where is Blackthorn?"
"I heard he's been killed, too!"
"The exit's been sealed up with ice- We're trapped, and those monsters will pick us off at their leisure!" We've got to get out of here!"
Gulyet tried to jam her way into the "discussion" at this point, hoping for some real information. "Monsters? Do you mean the humans? Where are they? Are they still in the officers' quarters?"
"They're not humans- they only look it! They're some kind of fiends-they can't be killed! The Kara-Turan- they've brought him back to life!"
Gulyet frowned. She didn't know whether to believe that or not- but then again, for all she knew, Markessa and/or Blackthorn might indeed be dead now. The adept tried to keep the conversation going on track.
"Are they still in the officer's quarters?"
"Of course they are!" came the shouted reply. "Roryx and a few still stupid enough to follow him are still trying to break through from the east!" The hobgoblin glanced around at his fellows surrounding him and seemed to draw strength from their nods of encouragement. "We're not ready to throw away our lives so foolishly, though! We came down from the western stairway, underneath them! We're getting out of here! Those monsters have killed everyone they've come across! If Commander Icar couldn't stop them, what chance have we?"
Gulyet backed Rime up about twenty feet, took a deep breath, then cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled as loud as she could, trying hard to ignore the resultant pain.
"Listen to me, all of you! Get back to your posts! We are not going to die! Don't let fear get the better of you- THAT is what will kill you! I believe I know who is behind these latest attacks, but I can't do anything about it if you don't-"
"Stupid gob!"
Gulyet whirled around. The hob with the forehead scar was standing in front of her, glaring murder and breathing furiously. The ice chips scattered throughout his dark red hair gave testament as to his most recent activities. It was the longsword clenched in his right hand however, that most concerned the adept at this point.
"Why have you done nothing but run around since this started?" the hobgoblin roared.
Gulyet started to reply, but the goblinoid, clearly not interested in a dialogue, cut her off immediately.
"Did that wolf of yours create that ice?" he yelled.
Several of the hobs stopped and turned their heads.
"Rime couldn't do that even if she wanted!" Gulyet shouted back "And why would she? We're-"
"You wield magic- why haven't you done so?" the hobgoblin bellowed, overriding Gulyet's attempted interruptions. "We're all dying here, and you tell us to return to our stations- and to certain death! Where is Markessa? Why has she betrayed us?" The hob's yellow eyes bore down on Gulyet now with undisguised hatred. "Everyone knows you're her pet! Have you cooked up this scheme to weed out those who might oppose her and Blackthorn? Well, your plans have gone awry, gob! Even those who were loyal to Markessa are being killed! You've brought doom upon us all, but you won't get away with it!"
"You're insane!" Gulyet shrieked, but the hob's sword was already in motion.
Before the adept could react, the large goblinoid suddenly screamed and stiffened up, his sword stroke going wild.
Gulyet could just make out a shortspear jutting out of the hob's back. Hanging on for dear life, his feet hanging off the ground, was Clix.
The hobgoblin roared with rage and spun around, but that merely brought Clix swinging around, as well. Gulyet caught a glimpse of her follower, a quick smile on his face as he held onto the spear with one hand while attempting to draw his dagger with the other.
Unfortunately for Clix, the goblin's spear thrust had not penetrated as far as he would have wished. The weapon bent down suddenly, and then popped out of the hob's back as he turned around one more time. Clix was dumped onto the ground and managed to make it back to his feet only in time to have his opponent's longsword slice down through his shoulder, through his ribcage and into his lung.
The hobgoblin's last act was to yank his sword free of the goblin's body. A howling blast of air accompanied the white cone that enveloped him, freezing all the water in his body instantly and snuffing out his life. The hob's body, his skin now a dark blue, toppled over to the ground, encased in a thin sheet of ice.
Gulyet turned her attention to the mass of hobgoblins, preparing for a sudden rush, but they just stared at her with a mixture of fear and hatred, and then redoubled their stampede towards the portcullis.
She tried one last time. "Please!" Gulyet shouted. "Don't run! Go back! Go back!"
The adept stared as the last of the hobs disappeared through the archway, then buried her face in her hands. She barely noticed her remaining three goblins walk slowly over and kneel down over Clix.
"He's still alive, mistress, but I think the wound is mortal." The small goblinoid lifted a hopeful face to her.
She sighed. "I have no more healing tonight. Do what you can with him," she said, turning Rime around to the south. "I'm going to get Blackthorn out here if I have to-"
"Gulyet."
The goblin froze. That voice had spoken in Common, and it was coming from somewhere in the inner courtyard.
She put her wolf in motion at a small walk, and slowly headed inside.
Gulyet's heart was pounding even more now than it had been previously. She didn't recognize the speaker.
But she had a guess.
As they approached the fountain, Rime started to growl, but Gulyet bent low over her mount.
"Quiet, girl," she whispered. "I'm going to see if I can make our foe give away his position. I think between us we can still destroy him."
Step by step, she slowly came around the fountain. The air still hung heavy with the scent of burnt vegetation, now brown and dead and dripping with water.
"You're very clever," Gulyet said aloud in the human tongue. The reply came quickly, from somewhere ahead of her.
"As I've told others, it's not what you have, but how you use it."
The goblin narrowed her eyes. It sounded like the voice was coming in front of the door leading into the fortress, but she wasn't sure yet, and she didn't want to risk him slipping past her.
"Invisibility won't save you forever," the adept said.
"I don't need forever," came the unsettling response.
He's by the door all right, Gulyet thought. She again leaned over Rime as her left hand closed on a patch of the winter wolf's mane. "When I pull," she whispered in goblin, "breathe right at the door."
Almost imperceptibly, Rime's head bobbed. It was a signal she knew well.
Gulyet stopped about fifteen feet away from the door. The goblin looked all around the courtyard, as if not to make her knowledge of her enemy's location apparent. Staring at one of the trees, she only wished her headache would go away.
For a moment, there was only the sound of dripping water.
"The game is over, human!" Gulyet yelled as she tugged on Rime's fur and snapped her head back to the front, drawing her throwing dagger as she did so. The winter wolf's breath weapon was dimmer in the limited moonlight that filtered down from above, but the effect was no less impressive than before. The door, already damaged earlier, blew backwards off its hinges, crashing into the corridor wall five feet back and falling down to the floor with a crash.
For a moment, there was nothing. Gulyet had her arm raised to throw, peering for all she worth, looking for some sign of her foe. Then, she heard the voice again.
From behind her.
"Ventriloquism. Lovely little spell, don't you think?"
Gulyet's eyes went as wide as they had ever gone in her life.
"You're right, goblin. The game is over. Believe it or not, I'm almost sorry."
There was more, but the voice was no longer talking. It was incanting.
Gulyet wheeled Rime around, but she could already see the tiny orange sphere, no larger than a pea, streaking towards her.
And as the adept had just enough time to realize she had failed; she finally saw the figure. He was standing in the fountain basin, looking at her.
For what it was worth, Gulyet knew she had been right.
"YOU!" she screamed, but then the fireball exploded in front of her, and the flames took her eyes and her ears, and then her lungs and mercifully, her life.