A sinuous line of green snaked through the widening mountain passes, flowing around obstructions like water. A low, burbling cacophony of noise echoed upwards from it, shrouding it in countless babbling voices.
Gorthek glanced at the distant line, and turned from his vantage point at the crest of the trail. He looked back to where Korgan's Rangers were following him. "Grobi up ahead," he called down, "looks like about tenscore from here."
The lead Ranger, a grizzled veteran by the name of Grim Harrson, nodded sharply, and gestured to the other Rangers. They turned, and jogged back down the trail, disappearing from view around a boulder. Grim trudged up to Gorthek. "Goblins, you say? I suppose it was too much to hope for a clear journey .How far away are they?"
Gorthek glanced back. "See for yourself. I'd say about half a mile."
Grim nodded. "Half a mile looks about right to me. At their pace, they'll reach this pass in about twenty minutes."
"What do you reckon, kill them?" asked Gorthek.
"Aye," replied Grim. "Korgan should be here in a few minutes, then we can make a proper plan."
Gorthek snorted. "We've got forty warriors. There's not much room for elaborate plans there."
"There's enough. Besides, they're only Grobi."
"Even Goblins can kill when there's two hundred of them," came a voice from behind them.
Gorthek turned. Korgan was standing in the center of the trail, his rune-hammer slung over his shoulder. The Thane had donned sturdy armour for the journey, thick leathers under a mail jerkin. Too much armour would be too restrictive for mountaineering. Korgan's grumbling about having to leave his prized suit of gromril armour behind was one of the reasons that Gorthek had gone on ahead.
"Four of them to every one of us, Korgan. Not really in their favour, is it?" said Gorthek.
Korgan grunted. "That's no reason to go behaving recklessly, though, is it? Leave that to the manlings. Look what happened to them – all over the place now, wars everywhere, half of them turned to Chaos. It's all because they don't take enough time over things."
Grim pointed to the approaching Goblins with his crossbow. "It doesn't look like they're going to give us much time though, Thane, so a little haste might not go amiss."
Korgan nodded. "Aye." He looked left, across the side of the mountain. "Grim, do you think you and your Rangers could climb across there? You'd have a perfect vantage point, and they wouldn't be able to get you easily."
Grim looked at the small, broken ridge thoughtfully. "I think we might be able to. It's a little thin, so we'd be single file, double at most, but we have rope and gear, so we'd be able to get down the face if we needed."
"Good," nodded Korgan. "The warriors and I will be forming up just down this rise, with the quarrellers on the top. They'll have a clear field of fire over our heads, and we'll have a height advantage. Plus, we won't be able to be surrounded, with these mountains around us."
"What about me?" asked Gorthek.
"You aren't part of this force, Gorthek, not officially, so I can't order you. I'd like you to guard the quarrellers, though. We won't be able to protect them once we're engaged from the front, and I'm not completely discounting the chance that these Grobi could get around us. It's not likely, but I'll not be the Thane to lose his force because of an oversight."
Gorthek hefted his axe. "I see your logic, but I would be much more useful of the front line. Send some of your warriors to guard the quarrellers." And let me find a proper death, he almost added.
Korgan shook his head. "No. I don't know you, and I don't know how you fight. You're unpredictable, Slayer, and against this many Goblins, I need Dwarves I can depend on beside me."
Gorthek sighed. There would be no arguing with Korgan. Gorthek had encountered Dwarves like him before, and knew that the Thane would sooner die than change his mind once he had decided on something. "Fine, Thane. I'll hold the rear."
Korgan nodded. "Good. The rest will be here any minute. Get to your positions. Grim, when the Goblins reach us, I want your Rangers to take out targets of opportunity. Leaders and the like, you know the drill. Keep them moving towards us."
"Hammer and anvil," said Grim approvingly. "We'll drive them on, Thane, don't worry."
The warriors appeared behind the three amongst a clattering rustle of armour and heavy footfalls. They were equipped with sturdy shields and broad hand axes, and all of them wore heavy armour that shone in the weak mountain sunlight. Their progress up the mountains had been slow, weighed down as they were with their armour and weapons, but there was still almost a month to go until the appointed time for Gorthek's duel with the vampire.
Behind them marched the quarrellers, steel crossbows held in two-handed grips across their chests, heavy leathers creaking softly as they moved. A good crossbow couldn't be beaten. Gorthek had been a quarreller before he had taken the Slayer Oath, and he still felt a connection with them.
Still, he had his axe now. That was all he needed. The rune-engraved greataxe was centuries old, forged at the hands of one of the greatest Runelords of Kazad Vulkhrund. It held dire runes of power, and its blade remained razor sharp even now.
Abruptly, he realised that the warriors were past him, forming up into a block, ten wide, touching each of the steep sides of the trail. The quarrellers were just in front of him, testing their views and sights, and placing the first bolts in their weapons.
Gorthek grunted, and walked up the slope, standing behind the quarrellers. He had a clear view of the area, and he could see the first touches of green around the twisting trail as the Goblins approached. A few moments more, and the swarming mass of greenskins had filled the trail, rushing madly up at the Dwarves as though they had always known of their presence.
Gorthek raised a hand to shade his eyes, and he could just make out the leader of the Goblins. It was a shaman, clad in bones and furs, and holding a gnarled staff topped with a Goblin skull. That any race could so willingly exploit their own dead was repulsive to him, and the Slayer shuddered as arcs of crackling green energy began to flare around the head of the staff.
He tapped the closest quarreller on the shoulder, and the Dwarf turned. "See that Shaman?" Gorthek asked, pointing down into the horde.
The quarreller nodded. "Aye, there in the center. You want us to shoot him, right?"
Gorthek shook his head. "Grim and his Rangers can handle that. Look just behind the Shaman."
The quarreller squinted forwards, then spat. "Fanatics. Where did they come from? They only usually come with the Night Goblins."
"I don't care where they came from," said Gorthek. "Just make sure you get them. Korgan and the warriors can deal with the other Goblins, but those fanatics will make a real mess of the shieldwall."
The quarreller nodded, and turned to pass the word on. Gorthek looked back at the Goblins. They had finally entered the range of Grim's Rangers, and the sharp snap of crossbows echoed across the pass. Bright flashed streaked into the Goblins, most falling short of the Shaman. Ranging shots, Gorthek knew, although the Goblins seemed to take heart at the Dwarves' misses, and surged forwards.
The next volley was more accurate, and Gorthek saw a dozen Goblins around the Shaman fall to the floor, their screams lost under the shouts and cries of the other Goblins. Undeterred, the horde rushed on, trampling the bodies of their fallen in their rush to reach the Dwarves. Goblins aren't usually this crazed, thought Gorthek. But what's driving them?
The Rangers got one last volley off, eight separate quarrels piercing the Shaman and throwing it backwards under the feet of the other Goblins. It was quickly lost to view, but the horde didn't even falter in its charge. Something is wrong… Those Goblins should be fleeing at the loss of their leader.
And then the Goblins reached the shieldwall, throwing themselves into it with a clattering smash. Their dirty weapons hacked downwards in a ragged series of uneven blows, but each strike was blocked by the Dwarves' shields. The warriors gave a step back, and then pushed forwards, their axes striking out at the Goblins. The greenskins fell backwards with a screech, and the Dwarves moved forwards again, shields raised.
The air around Gorthek was filled with the sharp snap of crossbows firing, and he realised that the Fanatics had come in range of the quarrellers. Twenty bolts lashed out at the Goblins, whipping down to plunge into a half-dozen black-robed Goblins. The Grobi fell, their massive ball-and-chain weapons lying forgotten on the floor.
Gorthek smiled grimly. A couple more volleys like that, and the Fanatics would be gone. Then the quarrellers would be free to concentrate of the other Goblins.
Part 6The shieldwall was bending backwards under the Goblins' relentless assault. The Dwarves cut down the greenskins at every opportunity, but the tide never seemed to end. The rear rank of the warriors was almost to the quarrellers.
Crossbow bolts knifed over the warriors and into the midst of the Goblins. There were so many greenskins that aiming was redundant; no matter where the bolts fell they would hit something. The quarrellers fired as fast as they could, one rank firing while another reloaded, keeping up a constant hail of steel bolts.
There were far more than two hundred. That many at least lay dead on the ground, trampled beneath the crushing weight of the Goblin advance. Dark blood ran thick down the slope of the trail, littered with gore and viscera. Here and there, a Dwarf lay, overcome by the smothering numbers, already stripped of his equipment by the scavenging Goblins.
Gorthek hefted his axe. He couldn't just stand at the back and watch the warriors die. Bellowing a war cry, the Slayer charged down the hill, barrelling through the rear ranks of warriors, Dwarves that had been rotated out of combat for a moment. He lifted his axe high, pushing past a grey-bearded warrior, and smashed it down into a Goblin, almost beheading the creature as the runic blade sliced through skin and bone like paper.
He wrenched his axe free, and batted away a pair of greenskins that had sought to take advantage of his distraction. The sun shone from the blade of his axe as it arced around to carve through the chests of the two Goblins, flinging them roughly backwards into the press. Gorthek ducked low, avoiding a slash for his head, and whipped his axe upwards into his newest attacker. The blade sliced into the Goblin's guts, and putrid filth sprayed from the mortal wound, coating Gorthek's arm.
The Slayer grimaced, and smashed another Goblin from its feet with a backhanded blow. He dodged right, and found himself standing next to Korgan. The Thane was laying about himself with his rune-hammer, the massive head of the weapon pulverising chests and heads wherever it struck. Silver runes blazed with power as the weapon slew, and it left a flaming afterimage after it.
The Thane glanced at Gorthek. "What are you doing here?" he roared over the din. "You're supposed to be guarding the quarrellers!"
Gorthek hacked his axe down into another Goblin, and ripped it free in a welter of gore. "The danger is here, Korgan! The quarrellers will all die if this line is not held!"
Korgan grunted, and caved in a Goblin's skull with a heavy swing. "Just get killing!" shouted the Thane.
Gorthek grinned, and chopped his axe sideways, almost splitting a Goblin in half. The creature was dead before it hit the ground, Gorthek's axe exploding from its waist in a fountain of blood, before coming up to parry a stab for the Slayer's head. Gorthek grunted as he felt a serrated blade slide into his thigh, biting deep into muscle. He dropped to one knee, and headbutted his new assailant. The Goblin fell backwards, and Gorthek decapitated it with a wide swing.
He backed away, his axe flashing out in a dazzling pattern, blocking, parrying and killing in a web of deadly steel. Goblins fell dead before him, their blood slicking his skin and matting his tall flame-orange hair.
It was then that the first Fanatics began to whirl, their drug-induced strength allowing them to lift their huge weapons easily. They span around, ball-and-chains whipping through other Goblins that had been too close, smashing aside everything with their momentum and speed. The Fanatics began to move, spinning drunkenly around, most heading towards the Dwarven shieldwall. Gorthek saw two whirl back into the ranks of the Goblins, killing scores before they were piled upon and buried beneath a writhing mound of greenskins.
The others, a half-dozen, hurtled towards the Dwarves. The shieldwall would not stop their weapons; the sheer weight and speed of them would bat aside Dwarf and shield as if they were toys. Gorthek raised his axe high into the air.
"Fanatics!" he cried.
Korgan looked up, and then nodded. "Surround them!" The Thane lifted his hammer high and charged at the nearest Fanatic.
And then the first Fanatic hit the Dwarf lines. There was an almighty crash, and bodies flew high into the air, tossed about like rag dolls by the Fanatic's weapon. A shout came up from the Dwarves, and the heavy-armoured warriors closed in around the spinning Goblin. They ducked under its weapon, hacking their axes down into the chain and sending the iron ball plunging down into the ground. The Fanatic started to swing it once more, but it the Dwarves closed in, their axes ending its life instantly.
Gorthek charged through the ranks, coming face to face with a Fanatic. He threw himself to the ground as its huge weapon arced through the air above him. The Fanatic's insane cackle sounded above him, and he rolled to the side. He looked up in time to see a Goblin smashed from its feet by the Fanatic's ball-and-chain, the crack of broken bones whipping through the air.
Gorthek hauled himself to his feet, and then had to dive backwards again as the Fanatic's weapon whirled round at him once more. The wind stung his face in the wake of the giant iron ball, but the Slayer dug his feet in and remained upright despite his dodge. Once the ball had passed, Gorthek roared and charged forwards, grabbing one of the Goblin's bony wrists and halting its spin. Though the Goblin had stopped, its weapon did not, and its momentum carried it around Gorthek and the Goblin twice before it dug itself into the earth.
He grunted as the thick chain wrapped itself around him. It tightened on his chest, pinning the Fanatic to him, crushing his lungs. Every breath burned beneath his ribs, and he felt as if he was suffocating, suffocating under the unbearable tightness. Gorthek gasped, and the Goblin was torn in two by the chain, its body unable to resist the pressure. Hot, wet gore drenched Gorthek as the Goblin slithered down him.
He used the momentary slackness granted him by the Goblin's death, and hewed upwards with his axe, shearing the chain in two. The heavy iron links writhed to the floor like a clinking metal snake, kicking up coppery red dust.
Gorthek paused, gulping down breath after breath, trying to get his lungs to work again. Dimly, he heard a voice behind him.
"Slayer! Wolf Riders!"
It was Korgan. The stubborn Thane had survived, then. Gorthek glanced around, and almost had his eye taken out by a Goblin blade. In his exhaustion after the fight with the Fanatic, he had forgotten that the rest of the battle was still raging. He chopped off his assailant's arms at the elbows, then disembowelled the shrieking greenskin. The putrid stench of death choked his nostrils.
The Wolf Riders. Gorthek glanced around, taking stock of the situation. There were precious few Dwarves left; perhaps a score at most, including the quarrellers. Most had been killed by the Fanatics, and the rest had been pulled down by the swarming Grobi.
There! At the back! Green dots atop grey streaks rounded the curve at the base of the trail, heading up into the rear of the quarrellers. Gorthek started forwards, slaughtering his way through the fight, but the quarrellers had noticed the new threat, and turned to face it.
They formed a disciplined, albeit battered, firing line, and flight after flight of steel bolts lashed out into the Wolf Riders. Goblins were punched from their saddles and wolves were staggered by the powerful impacts. The semi-disciplined charge of the Grobi was broken in the first two salvoes, the Wolves snarling and snapping at each other, and their riders bickering and hiding from the deadly bolts.
There were too many for bolts alone, though. Over twenty Wolf Riders made it to the quarrellers, and they barrelled into their firing line, trampling their way past. Goblins struck downwards with their spears, finding weak points in the quarrellers' lighter armour. Dwarves fell all around, and now the Wolf Riders had broken formation, circling the fight like sharks, charging in and out.
Gorthek gave a shout as the last quarreller died, and he saw the Wolf Riders turn to him. One, who he presumed to be their leader, stood up on top of his saddle, raising a curved sword to the sky. "Kill the Dwarf!" screeched the Goblin.
The Wolf Riders reacted instantly, leaping into action with a chorus of vicious snarls and shouts. Gorthek raised his axe, settling his feet wide apart on the ground. He was a Slayer. His would be a mighty doom, not an anonymous death at the hands of Goblins and their wolves.