When the goblins marched upon the Shadow Fort, Ser Robert was prepared for their attack. He had his finest archers placed upon the ramparts of the first gate. If he could help it, the fell beasts would die at the first line of defense.
The knight captain was 35 years of age, most of them under the service of the Duke as a soldier. He had brown skin, weathered from combat and dust, and closely shaven black hair that followed the curve of his head. His eyes were closely spaced, and he had a wide nose and large ears. He was dressed in the typical Gran Soren armor; an iron chest plate over a tunic of chainmail, brown trousers, and a captain's badge on his left arm.
He and his men guarded the Shadow Fort, and were in the process of rebuilding it to its former glory as the Stone of the Southwest. It had once stood as a bulwark against the dragon some hundred years ago. Although his men complained quietly about its uselessness, Robert was a man of stanch obedience to his Duke, and urged his men forward in their endeavors.
It was of no surprise to him that the goblins were planning an attack of sorts. His scouts had returned numerously with reports of seeing the beasts skulking within the area. The soldiers scoffed at the goblins, unafraid of these witless creatures. And while half of his soldiers grumbled, another handful voiced their eagerness in meeting the goblins in battle. Young Ser Abell in particular was fervent. Although the knight was spirited in a way that made Robert's mood brighten, he reminded the young man that a soldier's true aspiration was achieving peace.
The goblins charged mindlessly toward the front gate. Robert waited patiently until they came within range.
"Fire!" he shouted. There was the strangely comforting sound of a dozen arrows hissing through the air, and the even more satisfying ffftt they made upon impact. A few of the keener goblins raised their crude shields, but most of their kin fell to the ground, either dead or dying. Robert turned his head toward the soldiers on the right. In trained response, they alone finished off the rest of the beasts.
The goblins' attempt failed. To be of any threat, Robert knew they would have had to pass the front gate and into the wide clearing before reaching the fort. Between them stood all of Robert's men. Should they ever succeed in passing them, the goblins would be cut down by the ballistae.
Despite all assurances, something tugged at Robert. The goblins were never a cunning sort, but even they knew better than to make such a poor attempt at the fort. More strangely, however, was that the goblin leader was clearly absent from the attack. In his years of duty, he was never content until he slayed the cheif.
"Captain!"
Robert spun around. A soldier was running through the clearing, waving his arms. He called out again. The knights beside Robert turned around, murmuring amongst themselves. Then he heard it. The dim sound of battle, coming from within the fortress itself. Why hadn't he heard it earlier, he thought.
"The goblins," the man called up, "They've infiltrated the fort! They're inside!"
Robert ordered half his archers to guard the front, and led the others through the massive clearing. The closer he got, the louder was the clamor of battle; screams and shouting and metal upon metal. They pass through the second, and much larger, gate into the clearing within the walls of the fort.
Ten plus years of service hadn't compared to the sight he saw. His men were being butchered. At first sight, twenty to thirty goblins were currently in combat, scattered amongst his soldiers. And there were more of the beasts, rising from small opening within the earth as if emerging from inferno itself, spilling forth upon the knights in a gory wave.
Robert looked up. Even if any of his men could mount the ballista, they wouldn't be able to safely fire. He ran into the battle, organizing his men the best he could amongst the chaos. He drew his sword and lunged a goblin into the air with a skyward strike. It howled, but immediately silenced upon hitting the ground. He ignored the arrows that whizzed by his head, trusting his men enough not to hit him.
A goblin much taller than its kin came at him, and swung its long arm at his head. Robert stopped the attack with his shield. He felt the sharp bite of bone in his arm, but ignored the pain when the beast lunged with a crooked dagger to his face. The knight ducked and swung his sword at the monster's legs. His sword cleaved a bit of its knee from the screech and imperceptible curses it made. Red beady eyes glowed with savage fire, and it bared its razor-like teeth. It went to move upon Robert, but then jerked its head back, face snapped back toward the sky. It gurgled as the sword emerged further from its chest.
Ser Abell pulled his blade from the goblin and it crumpled to the ground, twitching violently in a final attempt at violence before it came to stillness. Robert put a hand on the young knight's shoulder as the lad looked long at the blood on his sword. The veteran soldier recognized the mixture of fear and excitement on the boy's face.
Robert looked around the battle. If the goblins didn't continue spewing forth from the ground, then he would have rallied his men in a final attempt at reclaiming the fort. But that was not the case. He looked up in time to see a knight hurtled from the fort's windows and onto the ground with a heartbreaking thud. He heard screaming and curses from his men.
"Retreat!" Robert called in a thunderous voice, "Fall back, now!"
He tugged on Abell's arms, hurtling the lad toward the exit. The soldiers who heard his orders repeated them, and it echoed on the survivors tongues in desperate calls. Robert assisted in fighting off the goblins who stood between them and the gate, and he would rather face hell than leave before any of his surviving soldiers.
Backpedaling with his sword before him, he caught glance of the goblin chieftain howling profanities amongst the cheering beasts. Robert was a man of pride and honor, but he would swallow his shame until his men were safe.
Zillah watched the ogre in the dark gloom of the ancient quarry. It sat hunched with its face toward the wall, gnawing on something hard that cracked beneath crooked teeth.
Ogres. Some scholars speculated that they were once a tribe of giants, cursed by the gods long ago in some distant past. Zillah narrowed her eyes. She didn't know how good their eyesight was, but from the past two fights they have had, she theorized that they must rely on smell, and sound, perhaps. It would be able to see her soon enough, once she got its attention.
Despite the darkness, the ogre was a difficult target to miss. Zillah drew an arrow and notched it. She pulled back on the bow string, feeling the feather brush against her face at her anchor point. The arrow flew and bounced off the thick hide of the beast, clanked loud from likely hitting a calcified wart on the back.
The ogre turned slowly, beads of red for its eyes landing on the pawn. Zillah waited. She wondered if a human in her position would start to panic, a thundering heart beneath the ribcage. But Zillah was no human, and her innate calm kept her still as planned.
She was, however, light on her feet. The ogre must have detected her gender, and it started hulking toward her, slow, then faster, excited. Zillah spun around and ran. Even her eyes couldn't pierce the darkness, but she had remembered her way easily enough. The tunnel narrowed, just wide enough for the beast behind her to scratch its back on the ceiling. But it wasn't slowing.
Zillah made a hard turn, emerging into a larger room with stone pillars spread around. Like planned, she leapt over the glowing symbol on the floor with ease. With her back to the closest pillar, she turned and drew another arrow, aiming it as the massive shadow nearing.
The ogre stepped on the perilous sigil. A brief flash of light filled the room and the beast collapsed forward. From the corner of her eyes, Zillah saw a spark and then flame. The red glow of the sword revealed the Arisen. She tapped her sword against the side of her shield and it too glowed. On the other side of Zillah's peripheral vision was a fellow pawn, seven feet tall and burly, two-handed sword raised before him. His weapon, too, glowed red.
The Arisen and the warrior burst forward in a sprint. Zillah could see the pawn's blade sink into the side of the ogre's neck, and Darien's sword stabbed into the cheek. The monster jerked up, pulling the broadsword with it. The warrior held tight in an attempt to twist the blade. Zillah released an arrow, aiming at the glowing red scar the Arisen made in the ogre's skin.
Darien and the warrior pulled back, separating in opposite directions. Pure malice fueled the ogre. Zillah saw that the beast was bleeding profusely, but she wasn't surprised by its unnatural drive.
Before the ogre could lunged toward the Arisen, a wall of fire materialized in the space between her and the beast. The mage-pawn retreated into the darkness, circling around one of the pillars. They all moved.
The ogre burst through the fiery wall towards Zillah. She threw herself sideways as the beast collided into the pillar. The pawn didn't stop there, knowing that the beast was already reaching for her. She rolled forward, continuously dodging the monsters massive arms.
Zillah heard her master's shout as the Arisen drew an arc with her sword across the monster's knee. The ogre landed hard on its injured appendage. Its eyes locked on Darien. The ogre drew its long arm up and slammed it down on the Arisen. Zillah saw Darien raise her shield just in time. The blow brought her to her right knee, but a wave of heat and flame burst from her shield and the ogre recoiled, moving its arm back as if it had touched a hot plate.
It went to move towards her again. Zillah tackled Darien off her feet, removing them both from the ogres crashing arms. Jolts of lightning danced them, blinding them all momentarily. Zillah brought the Arisen to her feet.
"Ahab!" Darien shouted. She pointed the tip of her sword towards the ogres face.
The warrior threw himself upon the back of the beast, massive sword and all. He yanked back on the horn-shaped warts. The ogre's head actually jerked back, and it waved its arms in attempts to grab the pawn.
"Zillah,"
The pawn drew back an arrow and waited. Darien held her sword before her face, chanted beneath her breath, and the arrowhead burst into flame. Zillah let it fly, then another. All hit their mark, one even piercing the ogre's neck.
Obviously enraged, the ogre suddenly threw itself back, crushing Ahab behind its thick neck.
Darien shouted something, and ran forward on the beast's stomach. She raised her sword and impaled the beast in the stomach. Because Zillah was thorough, she dropped her bow and came to the beast, daggers drawn in one fluid motion, and sliced through the soft parts of the beast's neck.
It groaned, long and throaty, blood pumping from the neck wounds. It died with Zillah and Darien upon its body, the red lights of its eyes dimming into surrounding darkness. The red light emitting from Darien's gear faded, and darkness surrounded them all.
Zillah heard the sounds of Darien sliding off the beast, and then the frantic fumbling of her opening a lantern. The Arisen turned to them once she had the fire lit, the light reflecting off her dark eyes and the silver circlet around her forehead.
She breathed heavily, and wiped the sweat from her forehead. "Get that thing off Ahab."
Zillah circled the beast's corpse. Her fellow pawn still lived, although barely. She sheathed her weapons, and pushed against the beast's head. Darien came to her side and pushed too.
"Theo, stop treasure-hunting and help us," she said.
The pawn watched them momentarily, then came behind Ahab and grabbed his shoulders. He pulled, but did little. Ahab grunted, blood trickling down his chin.
"For the love of – Zillah, go help Theo. I'll try to lift this thing, at least for a moment."
Zillah went to the mage's side, and between the three of them they were able to get the warrior out from underneath the ogre.
The Arisen knelt to Ahab's side and placed her palm against his chest. The warrior's breathing slowed, and his face relaxed. Darien raised her hand, frowned, and placed it back on his chest.
"Why isn't this working?" she asked.
"It has worked, Arisen," Ahab said, although his voice sounded strained, "I am no longer dying."
"You are obviously still injured." Darien said flatly.
"No, Master. You've done well." He contorted his face into such a fake smile that Zillah winced.
Theo went to the Arisen's side, arms full of mushrooms. "The Arisen can heal us pawns, can keep us from death's door, but they cannot fully cure us of all our injuries. Ahab here is well enough to be of assistance to you."
Darien gave the mage a sharp look as she helped the warrior his feet. Zillah guessed that her master was starting to regret hiring a mage with no healing magick. Ahab had, at least, stopped bleeding, and his chest appeared considerably less crushed.
"How far did we get, Zillah?"
The ranger slid out the map from her gear. She unfolded it and held it out for the Arisen to see.
Darien's eyes seemed to brighten a bit. "We did it."
Zillah nodded, and looked at the map. "Perhaps it'd be best to report our success to the merchant."
"I agree," Darien said. She offered her shoulder to the warrior who was tall enough to lean his arm on her. "Let's find ourselves a riftstone."
Ahab nodded gratefully. Zillah brought up the rear as they made their way to the quarry's exit.
Darien nearly burst through the doors leading into the sunlight, held back by the warrior-pawn's weight on her shoulder. Despite his injuries, they had done wonderfully well in the ancient quarry. Especially for facing three ogres in the span of a full day. The last battle wasn't supposed to have lasted as long as it did. Between Zillah and Darien's strategy, it was supposed to be quick and efficient. Alas, ogres tended to have a devilish willpower to survive, and proved even more dangerous when fatally wounded.
Darien blinked as her eyes adjusted in the light and glanced at the pawns; she didn't seem to be the only one exhausted by excursion, although they hid it well, Zillah especially. But the past few weeks had taught her that, despite their strengths, even pawns needed rest.
Alon the merchant was where the party had left him. He was the one who requested Darien and the pawns to clear out the mines. She was once perplexed as to how such an important quarry could have been neglected by the Duke – it did serve as a shortcut across Gransys' landscape.
The merchant wasn't alone. A knight, dressed in the blue garb of Gran Soren, spoke loudly and moved his arms to emphasize whatever point he was making. Alon pointed toward Darien as they approached.
"You are the Arisen?" The knight asked, approaching.
"That's what they say," Darien said, then added, "Yes, I am."
"His Majesty, the Duke Edmun Dragonsbane, requests your presence at the Shadow Fort to reroute a monster infestation. You and your companions are to head there immediately. The rest of the Duke's reinforcements are scheduled to arrive in two days."
Darien looked back at the quarry's entrance. "Have they left already? They could arrive faster if they cut through the mine."
The knight's eyes widened. "Did you clear the – never mind that. The soldiers have already departed for the long road. It would be best for you to take the shorter path, and assist the survivors at the fort."
"Is there a rest camp nearby? Preferably one with a riftstone – a pawn stone."
"Yes, but the Fort – "
"I need to resupply, desperately. Thank you."
The knight glanced at the company and deflated. "Aye, one through the quarry, follow the path south. Pray, make haste Arisen. We cannot allow such a stronghold to stay in the goblin's hands."
"Agreed," Darien said, nodding politely, "I won't dally. I, uh, did you say goblins?"
They had been ambushed twice long before reaching the front gate of the Shadow Fort. They were uninjured, the pawns rejuvenated from the riftstone's magick, and Darien, better from getting a warm meal and some sleep. She was disappointed from having lost her bronze armor, but Alon had repaid her with a dark blue surcoat of sturdy material. Darien was silently pleased for the lightweight garb.
The goblins that had attacked them were different than what Darien had faced; organized and ferocious. They certainly were unlike their kin near the Cassardis borders, who tended to be silly, clumsy things.
Something seemed to have caught Zillah's eyes, for she looked long off the road.
"What is it?" Darien asked, wary.
"I smell blood," she replied. Ahab drew his sword, looking about the forest.
Zillah went off the road and knelt. Darien followed and looked over the pawn's shoulder. The ranger's hand hovered over a very large print in the earth. They were off the beaten path, but the footprints seemed to head in their same direction.
When they arrived at the fort, the soldiers let her pass with nary a word. It didn't take a healer to know that these men were exhausted, half-moon circles beneath their dark eyes. They emerged into a large clearing spaced between the front and another, yet taller, gate. Soldiers stood about, speaking quietly as if the invaders might be listening. The air smelled of iron, smoke and of something rotten. On the far right side of the space, soldiers were burning a pile of goblin corpses. The deceased humans were laid about side-by-side, covered in red stained cloth. Darien averted her eyes.
Theo tapped her shoulder. "Judging from his fine armor, that man is likely to be the captain."
Darien followed the mage's eyes. The soldier broke from the group of men he spoke to and met her half way.
"Well met, Ser," he said, "I take you for the Arisen."
"Yes, I am," Darien said, then gestured to her pawns, "and these are my companions."
Ahab and Theo nodded once in sync, which might have been eerie to Darien if she hadn't seen pawns do that before. Zillah just stared.
"A messenger informed us of your coming. I wish I could offer you a moment's reprieve, but I am afraid we haven't much time."
Darien followed the captain toward the entrance. "Why?" she asked, "Should we not wait for reinforcements."
"Call it an old soldier's sense," he said, looking up at the gate. "During the attack, my men and I were driven from the fort, far out to Lake Harding. We…I gave order to camp there until my scouts returned with disturbing news. The goblins were massing an even greater force within the fort's walls. Every moment of our absence allowed beasts' entrance." He brought his gaze down and met Darien's eyes.
"I know not how many passed into the Shadow Fort. I amassed what remained of my men to this gate. We have prevented any more of the horde pass the gate, and have allowed nothing to come out."
From the corner of her eyes Darien saw Zillah turn her head toward the casualties. Despite the supposed threat on the other side of the gate, it was quiet, save for the fire crackling. The soldiers seemed to have hushed. Darien didn't look in case they were staring at them.
"You are concerned with being trapped between the fort and more of the goblin's reinforcements," she said, slowly.
The captain nodded, "Aye. Still, that makes my request of you no easier to make. By your leave, I would ask you spearhead our force here."
He turned and led them to a hole in the ground beside the gate. Darien looked down into it. The cavity was well wide enough for anyone to fit through.
"Our tactics are as such," the captain said, speaking louder, if only slightly, "We aim to strike from the front gate, but lack the time and mean to batter down the doors. I ask that you pass through the hole you see there and lay open the gate from within." He was composed, but seemingly apologetic, "I cannot say what awaits you within."
Darien scratched the back of her head, and then adjusted the circlet. "I understand." She forced herself to keep eye-contact. "Is there anything else I aught know?"
The captain was quiet a moment, looking her over. Darien couldn't place his thoughts. He turned and waved on of the knights over. A younger man jogged over. He shared the same weary look as the rest, but his eyes were bright. The older knight placed his hand on the man's shoulder.
"This is Ser Abell," the captain said, "one of my most trusted knights. He can show you the way, if you would have him."
"Please, Ser Arisen," he said, "I am eager to show these beasts what a Gran Soren knight is capable of."
"But he will serve foremost as your guide," the captain warned. Ser Abell winced.
"We will take him." Darien said, moving toward the hole before her mind could catch up.
"The danger is great," the captain said, "but I trust you will prevail."
Darien turned to her pawn. "Are you ready?"
The pawn nodded. "Always." She leapt into the hole, followed by Ahab and Theo. Without looking back, the knight slid into the hole, held upright by the warrior when he reached the bottom.
Darien went to throw herself into the hole.
"Arisen," the captain said.
She looked back at him, feet balanced at the edge. Now that she was turned, she saw that the knights had gathered to see them off, quiet and expectant.
"Ser Abell," the captain said, quieter, "has a bright future ahead of him." He seemed at loss with whatever else he had wanted to say. For the first time he had spoken to her, he seemed uncertain.
Darien flashed a smile that came naturally to her, and walked off the edge into the earth.