Chapter 116: Attack On Goblins 2

The wind howled as the silence creeped into the clearing, a hundred and twelve goblins stood guard as sentries, each spread all over the perimeter of the camp. But all of a sudden, the guards began to move forwards, taking slow and sure steps that were so silent and careful you would think they were the best trained assassins in all of the land, but this walk, this eventful march though didn't last long as the moment the goblins walked into the tree line the darkness itself seemed to have swallowed them. there was no sound, no squeal, no rustle and no smell of death or blood, they just disappeared and vanished into the night.

Five foxes ran into the clearing, their forms silent and seemingly nothing more than eerie ghosts as they lobbed [Fox Fire] at the tents that held hundreds of sleeping goblins. Their movements were swift, silent and hundreds of tents were ablaze within seconds of their foray into the camp, it didn't take long for the goblins to realize what was going on, but by that time there was absolutely no sign of these Kitsunes. Just like the sentries before them, it seems the dark ness might have swallowed them.

Jorgen smelt the smoke before he felt the heat, and even more so when the cold air that had been synonymous with this night rapidly disappeared and turned into a flaming wind that did nothing but fan the flames and increase the thickness of the stench of the smoke. Goblins and hobgoblins and their other evolution paths actually had very good sense of smell. It was not a hidden knowledge, but many people tend to overlook the fact that the scrappy creatures could smell almost as good as hunting dogs, even to the point of recognizing what sort of animal might have went through or past an area.

Jorgen was a red hobgoblin, evolved from a red goblin which was further in turn evolved from a simple goblin cub. This was an elemental evolution path, and it was mainly a path for mages as being a red hobgoblin gave him limited control and affinity over the fire element. He could sense the nature of the flames turning his camp to ash and he knew or rather he could feel that it wasn't normal, he ran out of his camp and looked around, it was chaos allover as everyone was trying their hardest to put out the flames, but there was no success in that. The flames just kept burning and burning, growing stronger with each second that passed.

The clamor was such that he had never seen or experienced before, not in the time he had spent subjugating the small powers within the Kerwood forest for the Goblin King, there was no way to get this in control, as the goblins ran about like headless chickens trying to put out the fires. But when he looked closer he realized that they weren't even going about it the right way, it was surprising, but the goblins themselves were actually acting in a manic way.

Jorgen watched as one goblin overturned a bucket of shit on the head of another, and then proceeded to start beating him with the bucket screaming 'Fire! Fire! Kill the fire!'. One was rubbing himself on the ground, smashing his tiny green body into some of the stumps that were left behind from when some trees were cut to make more space for the clearing.

This goblin thought he was on fire, it was as if the fire that they were seeing was acting as an agent for insanity, and honestly this was slowly scaring the shit out of Jorgen, he couldn't see the enemy, so he had no idea where to turn his anger and power to. And so it went on, as flames and madness ravaged through his camp, burning his hopes and ambitions of glory into nothing but cinders, crushed hopes and dreams until there was nothing else left, just death.

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Lenore stood on the branches of a tree 25 meters away from the burnt clearing watching as what remained of the goblins slowly and painfully gathered themselves. They had hoped to have a good night's rest from their long march but instead they had all woken up to smoke, death and fire. Lenore had to hand it to Rezar, when it came to dealing with his enemies, he really had a flair for the dramatic. But aside from being dramatic, he knew how to deal with the worst of his enemies efficiently and still look good while doing it.

The enemy was a thousand goblin strong, with strong emphasis on the 'was', now a force barely 400 hundred strong slowly gathered what remained of their camp, the ground littered with dead bodies, most of which had actually taken their own life. Of the dead on the ground there was at least a 100, and from the 400 remaining, a significant amount of them were sporting injuries from light to severe, and as for the remaining unaccounted five hundred goblins… there were all around, they were even amongst the dead.

Lenore wasn't here as a general, she might have strategies, but she couldn't help but admit that she was completely incapable of coming up with something this elaborate, sure this plan was as a result of correspondence between Rezar, the Kitsunes, the Muriel Elves, the Wild tribe and Priest. She was a general, and while she could strategize quite well, she was more suited for the battlefield.

But never the less she stood on the cusp of a history making battle, and she would be a part of it, and she would also play her part in it. Her goals for the future might not be really known, not even to herself, but right now she could live the way she wanted, doing something she realized she has an appetite for, something that normally would give chills to all who might hear it. She was following and serving, all for the chance to sate her appetite; her appetite for KILLING!