Winter's Crown: Act 5, Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Visions of tormented, burning souls drove Qrs out of his nightmares, and their screams clung to his waking mind. The woody scent of campfire smoke drifted through his tent flap, and his insides churned. He crawled out into the misty morning gloom, looking for a place to empty his stomach.

“Dad?”

Qrs looked up after retching painfully. Leela stood behind him, looking on worriedly.

“I-I’m fine,” he told her. “Go back to what you were doing. Dad’s going to take a walk.”

Leaning heavily against the tree he had ended up against, Qrs watched as his daughter returned to sit by the fire with several other villagers. She picked up what he thought was his chainmail armour and started scrubbing it.

When did she learn how to do that?

It had been charred and fused to his flesh from the battle at the ford, and he couldn’t bear the stench of it. Apparently, his daughter was trying to make it wearable again. Suppressing a frown, he turned away and wandered off through the camp.

His memories were hazy after the battle, but he knew that they remained sealed within somewhere. Nightmares plagued him in his slumber, recollections of horror that scattered beyond his reach upon waking. Others told him what had happened; how he had defiantly stood against Jaldabaoth at the ford, strong and proud.

He didn’t feel strong or proud, however, and a nagging sensation quietly insisted that he was utterly powerless. But the others didn’t see it that way. Qrs had stood against the Demon God, buying time for those who managed to escape. Some Gnolls had found him in the woods, lying burnt and battered between the roots of an old, gnarled tree. It appeared that none of the survivors actually witnessed whatever happened at the end, but surmised that, since Jaldabaoth had not come after them, Qrs had done something worthy of legend.

Qrs himself couldn’t recall. He remembered fighting the scaled Fiends and being mocked by Jaldabaoth. He remembered Rhag being tormented and run down, but he could not remember anything after that. A feat worthy of legend…no, it was impossible. If Qrs was a legendary figure, then Jaldabaoth was a Demon God who made the legends paltry by comparison. What insidious evil was he up to now?

According to all whom he had spoken to regarding the matter, the Fiends had stopped pursuing them shortly after the battle and were not seen since. The refugees kept running despite this, until a large group of them eventually stopped at the confluence of two small rivers somewhere across The Neck. Every day, more stragglers found them or were found by the Gnolls patrolling and raiding the surrounding lands. Leela was the only member of his family present in the camp, and she had been separated from the rest of their family during the panicked flight into The Neck. Hopefully, they would be amongst the survivors that were still trickling in.

So far, of the 7,000 of Qrs’ people present at the battle of the ford, only 2,000 remained. The Gnolls fared little better. Given the number of prisoners that had potentially been taken, the real reason Jaldabaoth had let them flee might have been that the minions he had brought with him were tied up moving their new acquisitions. They were just being driven forward, and the Demon’s Gods forces would move to collect them at their leisure…yet moving forward was all they could do.

“Qrs.”

Zrol’s voice sounded to his right, and Qrs turned from his brooding to see the Hobgoblin officer marching up smartly towards him with an attachment of troops in tow. The Goblin army had only grown ever since they left the ford, their teeming numbers now dwarfing the survivors from the west. Qrs slowed his pace, and Zrol fell into line beside him.

“It’s good to see you up and about,” he said. “How are you feeling now?”

“Like shit,” Qrs replied.

“That’s great,” Zrol nodded – was he even listening? “The council’s been waiting on you to make a few crucial decisions. We also have guests of a sort that showed up today.”

“Guests?”

“Dark Dwarves. It’s amazing how they just pop up whenever there’s profit to be made – some Gnolls escorted them in just now.”

Qrs supposed he should show himself. Despite all that had happened, he was still the leader of his people and was treated as part of their strange alliance’s leadership. Even with the swelling numbers of the Goblin army, his personal strength was still one of the refugees’ greatest assets and helped to ensure that his people’s needs and voices remained strong in the makeshift council that had formed in the past few days.

Nodding his thanks to Zrol, he split off and headed further into the camp, towards a large tent stitched out of hides roughly a hundred metres from the shore of one of the nearby rivers. In a clearing along the shore was the familiar sight of Dark Dwarves peddling their wares in the midst of several dozen of their customers: Hobgoblin officers and tribal representatives sent to bargain on their respective peoples’ behalf.

Upon closer inspection, he found a long line of slaves already chained to be led away. They were mostly made up of Bugbears, though there were quite a few Goblins as well. Despite Avod sharing with him the advantages that came with being part of a Goblin army, it was a strict and tough life for its members. Those who couldn’t maintain order and discipline ended up as fodder – or slaves, in this case. Any infighting and undesirable behaviour just resulted in more commodities to trade for valuable equipment.

Closer to the wares being displayed was a naked Dwarf, who was also chained. Qrs frowned down at the odd sight.

“What’s going on with this one?” He asked.

“Huh?” One of the Dwarves behind the tables looked up, “Oh, him. Just meat, I guess.”

“…how did that happen?”

“Magic caster that got too curious,” the Dwarf told him. “Scryed the wrong person, and whatever defensive spell he triggered turned him into a drooling invalid. Guess it could be worse – at least we can still sell him off as a meal, eh?”

The naked Dwarf on display didn’t even flinch at the words, empty eyes staring at some sight unseen to anyone else. Qrs had never tasted Dwarf before, but the squat and hairy thing looked rather unappetizing. He left the stands and entered the nearby pavilion. Within, several familiar faces greeted him.

“Qrs,” Avod said, “good timing.”

He scanned the spacious interior, which lacked any furnishings save for a central brazier. Around it, Ysvrith and several Gnoll Alphas were present, as was Avod and a few of her officers. Several of his chiefs and elders nodded in greeting as his gaze passed over them.

“Zrol said you were trying to make up your minds about something,” Qrs said.

“More like a few somethings,” Avod replied. “Most importantly: how long we should stay here, and where to go when we finally move. These Dwarves popping up makes it tempting to stick around for a few shipments – we have a lot of troops to arm.”

‘A lot’ was decidedly an understatement. In the time since the battle with Jaldabaoth, the Goblin army had grown at an astonishing rate. The four Hobgoblins that had escaped with him had rallied an army of 75,000 in less than two weeks. Avod described it quite simply – that they were just going around collecting new recruits – but Qrs couldn’t quite wrap his head around how exactly they had found so many in such a short time.

As the Hobgoblin general – she had promoted herself after her burgeoning army had grown past a certain point – had promised, the troops were trained, churning out all manner of soldiers. Throngs of disorganized Goblins were transformed into agile bands of organized skirmishers, wolf-riders, and runners who formed the bulk of their supply train. Casters were sorted out into supporting attachments and the Bugbears were turned into shock troops. Even Barghests were incorporated somehow.

The Hobgoblins’ penchant for raising armies was on full display. Even the ones that they found occasionally mixed into the Goblin and Bugbear tribes somehow knew exactly what to do right away. It was uncanny and strange – they built their armies as naturally as bees constructed their hives.

Needless to say, arming them with anything better than clubs, wooden spears and crude bows was a challenge in their present circumstances. The remaining survivors of Qrs’ people could only do so much, so the arrival of the Dark Dwarves provided a compelling reason to stay put. Doing so would also allow more refugees out in the forest to make their way to the camp, increasing the possibility of Rholh and the rest of his family appearing.

He shook his head, as if he could dislodge the tantalizing thought. Jaldabaoth was still out there, and they had no idea when he would return for the rest of them. It was possible that his forces would be delayed by quite some time subjugating the sheer number of Goblinoids living in The Neck, but staying where they were was an unnecessary risk to impose on those in the camp. The further away from Jaldabaoth, the better.

“If they’re willing to trade all over the wilderness,” Qrs said, “it shouldn’t be a problem if we move, right? We’re a bit further away from the hills now, but it’s still too close for comfort.”

“I agree,” Ysvrith said. “These Fiends can fly, and the forest impedes many. If Jaldabaoth strikes us here, those without the skills to traverse the terrain quickly will be unable to escape.”

“If we’re to arrange something with the Dwarves,” Avod said, “it would probably have to be at our next bit stop. We haven’t even decided where we’re going from here yet.”

“How far have we scouted?”

“About fifty kilometres in every eastward direction,” Ysvrith told him. “The river we’re camping on flows down to the southeast, and would be the most convenient way to follow.”

“It might sound nice,” Avod said, “but we have some tales from the locals that make it seem like a bad idea.

“Tales?” Qrs furrowed his brow.

Avod looked over to one of her captains, a Hobgoblin he didn’t recognize – it must have been one of the new ones that had joined in the past few days. Stepped forward, clearing his throat before speaking.

“To the southeast of the forests is a Human nation that calls itself the Slane Theocracy,” the Hobgoblin officer said. “They’re well-known to the tribes here – notorious, even.”

“I’ve heard a nation of Humans exists beyond The Neck,” Qrs said, “but what makes them worthy of mention? Is there something that makes them difficult to attack or raid?”

“Rather than us raiding them” the captain replied, “they raid us.”

Qrs’ expression twisted at the odd notion. He had never heard of Humans actively raiding before. Then again, Goblins were well-known to be a weaker race.

“How often does this happen?” He asked, “Will they be paying us a visit?”

“No,” the Hobgoblin shook his head, “This river that we’re on…it joins with another along the way that runs from east to west, and that’s the furthest extent of their regular raids. Once in a while, they’ll field powerful forces that cross the river to attack tribes that exceed a certain population, but they’ve never come this far north.”

“Do you know how strong they are? How do they fight?”

“They’re strong enough to keep the forests south of the river I mentioned almost entirely clear of tribes. As for how they fight…in addition to their regular soldiers, they have magic casters and summon beings of radiant light.”

“Angels,” Qrs spat. “They’re just as bad as Fiends. The Humans of the wall to the west use them as well, but they’re no match for us.”

“Still,” Qrs’ words did not seem to affect the Hobgoblin either way, “the land beyond is an open plain: there are no forests to call home to speak of. It’s not a place for any of our peoples, so heading in that direction would only invite fruitless conflict. If this Jaldabaoth is as close as you newcomers say, stopping to fight here would only invite more problems.”

There didn’t seem to be anything to debate when it came to following the river. If it led to nowhere useful, then there was no reason to head in that direction.

“Then where’s the next source of water?” Qrs asked, “I wouldn’t be surprised if we had a hundred thousand goblins by the time we leave this place, so we’ll have to figure out where to go before we move.”

“Beyond The Neck to the east is an arid plain,” Ysvrith said. “My scouts have only viewed it from the forest, but it appears to run from north to south following a broad river valley.”

“Another plain,” Qrs blew out an annoyed breath, “don’t tell me there are even more Humans in that direction.”

“There is no sign of anyone there that we have seen,” Ysvrith said. “No buildings or any other sign of settlement. Animals roam the plain in small herds and, by all appearances, they are undisturbed by nomadic peoples.”

“That sounds…not right?” Qrs frowned, “There must be someone there – or something. What about magical beasts or monsters?”

“It’s possible the nearby mountains might have predators that fly down to feed there,” Ysvrith mused. “This would explain why the herds remain small with few visible predators. Giant Eagles…or Griffons, perhaps?”

He would take Giant Eagles or Griffons over Jaldabaoth any day. They were manageable with parties of experienced hunters and would yield valuable materials.

“So a clear course to the next major river,” Qrs muttered, “this sounds too good to be true.”

“It is what it is,” Ysvrith shrugged. “On the opposite slope of the valley is a lush forest, leading a range of mountains that stretches along the plain. I doubt that such ideal territory would be left uninhabited.”

“It still sounds promising,” Qrs said, “but let’s hold that thought, for now. Is there anywhere else we can go?”

“All routes east lead to the same valley,” Ysvrith replied. “If this Human nation lies to the south, then we should distance ourselves from it by heading northeast. We can go follow the river here north for a time, then go east as far as the forest allows us.”

“What about just going north?”

“The border ranges continue eastward, barring our path. It’s possible that they intersect with the range to the east.”

“This sounds very much like we’re being cornered,” Avod said. “Mountains to the north; mountains to the east; this Slane Theocracy with its inhospitable lands to the south, and Jaldabaoth in the west, driving us before him.”

The groups of council members started to converse between themselves, speaking in low voices. Qrs, however, did not believe that there was much to discuss.

“We can continue running east,” Qrs told them, “head south and fight a war with Humans to no gain, or stay here and wait for Jaldabaoth to come and pick us up. Unless someone can offer us another option, these are what we have to choose from – whether we like them or not.”

“Then I say east,” Ysvrith yipped. “The way is clear and the lands ahead bountiful. The mountains in the east may not be as much of a hindrance as they appear. As we scout ahead, new ways forward will be made known to us.”

“As suspicious as it seems,” Avod said, “east appears to be the only way. It’ll take a few days for us to get all the Gobs organized and ready to move.”

“East it is, then,” Qrs nodded. “Let’s get some scouts out there while the rest of us prepare to move.”