14th of Felsite, Year 56The elven ambassador stepped lightly through the forest, perfectly at peace with the plants and animals, as always. Despite the rich wealth of life he had been traveling through, his mood was less than pleasant. Being sent to talk to the dwarves was a punishment, an ordeal that most elves only had to go through once, fortunately.
It wasn't that the dwarves themselves were unpleasant, at least not individually. The unpleasantness came from the terrible scars they made on the land, the animals and trees killed to make room for the crude stone fortresses they inevitably built. The wost part of it was that the dwarves themselves didn't even to realize that there was anything wrong with what they were doing.
An elf in the woods is almost impossible to track or catch against their will. Native empathy with the plants, peace with the wildest of animals, mean that in the fully undisturbed forest no goblin or kobold can find or catch an elf. But now the diplomat was leaving the forest. The grey stone wall of Brightwater was ahead, cutting off the view of the ocean. Trees inside had been clear-cut, and plants picked or simply trodden underfoot by careless dwarves. Most of the wild animals had been caught or killed, and those who were left were permanently traumatized, living in a constant state of fear.
This close to a dwarven fortress, an elf is vulnerable.
The diplomat tried to run. He should have made it. Even in such a crippled forest, an elf should be faster than any goblin, passing unimpeded through brambles and over tree roots that would slow down the pursuers. These were not any normal goblins. These were the best of Ezuk Dustdreamed's troops. The lead goblin managed to charge through the obstructing plants to catch the fleeing elf.
The battle was short, and brutal.
The elf didn't stand a chance.
Far to the south, at the main fortress gate, the elven trade caravan was arriving.
These elves didn't arrive alone either. Hidden among the trees to the south, a group of Camaba the Putrid Raunch's best archers waited. As the elves were stepping onto the pillar-flanked stone road leading into the fortress, the first few dwarves soldiers still making their way to the entrance, the goblin spear-carrier leading the group gave the signal. The goblins burst out of hiding, firing arrows at the elven caravan.
Militia commander Fritz Cattendoren had seen these types of goblin ambushes many times before. Always in each group there was one goblin of a different type than the others. Kill that leader and the others would scatter in fear. So as she emerged from the fortress gates - first to the fight as usual - and saw the elven guards ineffectually engaging the bowgoblins, she knew to look instead for their leader. There, a spear-wielding goblin was standing off to the side. Ignoring the archers, Fritz charged the goblin leader.
The elves, meanwhile, were doing poorly against the goblin archers. An elf guard fell to the ground, retching, with an arrow in his guts. The merchants scattered northward, several of them with goblin-arrows embedded in their selves or their draft animals. Another guard fell, dead with an arrow through his head.
High above, Celian's trained Giant War Peregrine Falcon soared over the battle. As trained, it picked out a goblin on the ground, and aimed carefully. Wings folded, it plunged downwards, ready to disable or kill its target with a single high-speed impact.
Unfortunately for it, these weren't normal goblin archers. Furthermore, thanks to the excellent spy networks operated by the two vermilion fiends, the archers had been warned to keep an eye out for flying attackers. An archer who had been keeping watch to just such a thing fired an arrow at the war bird. The Giant War Peregrine Falcon tumbled out of control and crashed to the ground.
The creature tried to fight back, clawing at the goblins surrounding it. They easily dodged its feeble strikes, firing arrow after arrow into the stricken bird.
The goblin commander at Fritz's feet had been pounded into a lifeless, mangled mass. Fritz stood, looking up from the sad corpse. The other goblins weren't running away. They were firing arrows at the fleeing elves. One of them took notice of Fritz and fired an arrow in her direction.
Obviously, these goblins needed further encouragement to flee.
From the fortress gates, Daenyth, Higginbottom III, and Obesehelmet charged out into the battle. Dead and dying elves lay scattered around the entrance. The few survivors of the caravan were fleeing back into the fortress. The remaining goblin archers had given up on Ceilan's mortally wounded peregrine falcon, and were either chasing the elves or trying to attack Fritz. Daenyth charged to his commander's rescue. A goblin took aim at Fritz, but was interrupted by Daenyth's sword. Daenyth's triumph was short-lived, as another goblin sniper put an arrow through Daenyth's arm. Daenyth staggered back in pain, dropping his sword.
Fritz, meanwhile, was still continuing to be a terrifying engine of dwarven destruction. She easily killed the goblin who Daenyth had injured, then turned on another archer who had been about to shoot her from behind. Fritz smashed furiously at the goblin, smashing its left arm with her hammer, but somehow the goblin managed to loose an arrow that pierced Fritz's leg.
Fritz fell to the ground, tumbling down a slope into a muddy puddle, but managed to pull the goblin archer with her. Even with her leg crippled, she manged to swing her hammer three more times, crushing the goblin's skull.
ObeseHelmet and Higginbottom III had watched as Fritz charged the entire goblin ambush by herself. Confident as they were in the commander's ability to slaughter an entire goblin army single-handed, they had instead looked to the north, were another group of goblins were emerging from the forest. What they didn't know - and honestly wouldn't have cared about if they had - was that this was the same group that had previously killed the elven ambassador. To Higginbottom, at least, the elven ambassador probably deserved to be killed as a hated surface-dweller, but so did the goblins. ObeseHelmet, of course, would be horrified had he known.
The two of them charged north, towards the group. Behind them, the second marksdwarf to be known as Ash took up position and fired bolts past them.
ObeseHelmet raised his beloved wooden spear, and jabbed at the goblin soldier in front of him. The first strike raised a nasty bruise on the goblin's leg. Surprised to actually be hurt by a wooden weapon, the goblin managed to block the next two strikes.
Alongside them, Higginbottom III's trained Giant War Pangolin knocked a goblin soldier to the ground, scratching and tearing with its massive claws.
From the other side, a Giant War Sparrow pecked at the goblin soldier. It grabbed the goblin's arm in its beak, twisting and pulling until the goblin dropped his weapon. As the helpless goblin tried to fend off the giant animals attacking it, a bolt fired from Ash from across the battlefield struck and buried itself in the goblin's guts.
Higginbottom III faced off against one of the goblins. Flail versus morningstar, they traded blows, until a strike from Higginbottom struck the goblin solidly in the head, killing it. Another of the macegoblins had been trying to sneak up on Higginbottom III during the fight. Higginbottom III span in place and delivered a kick that shattered the second assailant's face.
His pet war pangolin was not doing as well. A goblin soldier managed to deliver several blows which penetrate the giant monster's armor. It responded with the only defensive maneuver a pangolin is capable of: curling into a ball.
Undaunted, the soldier kept hammering at it, sure that enough blows would crack the creature's shell open.
Higginbottom III turned away from the goblin he had kicked, to attack the one who was hurting his pet. He swung his fail at the goblin's head. The goblin ducked, and then delivered a blow which crippled Higginbottom's weapon arm. The hammerer's flail dropped to the ground.
ObeseHelmet was still dueling with the same goblin he had attacked earlier. His wooden spear just didn't seem to be working as well as he'd hoped it would. The Elves used them, so they had to be effective weapon, right? He pressed the attack. The goblin dodged, then blocked the ineffectual strikes, then retaliated with a series of blows that left ObeseHelmet sprawled bleeding on the ground.
Happythoughts had finally reached the scene of the battle. What he saw was not the usual aftermath of a goblin ambush. Some of the fortress's best warriors - even the legendary commander Fritz - were down on the ground, injured badly. Three mace-goblins stood to the north, around the injured Higginbottom III and Obesehelmet. Dead war animals littered the battlefield.
Happythoughts, of course, charged to the defense of his fellow soldiers.
It should have been a vain, suicidal act. But by that point, the goblins had decided that their point was proven. They turned and vanished into the forest, disappearing as they had appeared, out of nowhere, leaving Happythoughts standing alone among the dead and injured.
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Topic: Brightwater: Community fortress of science, oceans, and animal taming (Read 151689 times)