Winter's Crown: Act 6, Chapter 7

Chapter 7

“You’re up, kiddo.”

“But–”

A fist came in and bashed Nob on the arm. Nob let out a pained yelp, stumbling forward. As Nob nursed what would probably be a bruise in a few minutes, Nob glanced back and realized that Nob was dead.

Dead. Big dead. Stupid Hob – deading Nob.

If only they had never come.

With the back of one hand, Nob scrubbed a tear off of Nob’s cheek, glowering down at the driven stake that Nob had just stumbled past. Piled around it were skulls: Goblins, Hobgoblins, Bugbears, Ogres, Gnolls, Trolls…all types of skulls, one for each of the races that lived – or once lived – in the basin. It was one of many markers that warned the tribes living in the area that beyond lay a grim fate. If you crossed the threshold and were one of the races in the pile, you were marked for death.

Nob told them. Nob warned them. Stupid Hobs.

They came from the west, with their big army and big weapons and big, stupid heads. They killed the old boss and told Nob and Nob’s tribe to join. Nob had fun for a few days, but then the Hobs told Nob that they were going north – north! Many others told them that going north was stupid, but stupid Hobs were stupid.

Humans were weak, they said. Humans weren’t civilized enough to mark their borders like that, they said. The Hobs had their big everything, so of course, they became stupid. The Hobs took Nob north with them, saying that they valued what Nob knew about the land.

They wanted Nob for what Nob knew, but they didn’t listen to what Nob knew? Stupid Hobs. Now, Nob was dead.

“Hey kid – what are you standing there for?”

Nob looked up at the rough voice prodding Nob forward. It was a big Hob named Zrol: one of the army bosses. Zrol and Zrol’s soldiers stood on the other side of the marker, looking at Nob expectantly. Nob swallowed. Maybe it wasn’t too late. Once in a while, hunters would chase a rabbit across the markers a little bit and come back safe and sound.

“Nob not want.”

“Hah?”

“No go!”

“You’ve got a job to do, soldier,” Zrol told him. “Just head up that pass, then come back and tell us what you saw.”

The Hob boss cranked a mean-looking crossbow even as the Hob spoke in a nice voice. It made a soft click, and Zrol’s hand moved to fetch a bolt from the bag at Zrol’s waist. They used nice big words to impress Nob; make Nob feel important, but Nob knew Nob was just fodder.

Nob darted uphill towards the pass before Zrol raised the weapon.

Dead dead dead dead dead dead dead.

The words in Nob’s mind sounded in time with the patter of frantic footsteps. Wait – Nob shouldn’t be walking out in the open. Nob scuttled into the trees.

Dead dead dead dead dead dead dead.

Nob’s steps slowed. The higher Nob went, the more sparse the trees and bushes became. Nob raised Nob’s nose and sniffed at the air. Humans. Yup, they were still there: their scent carried by the winds from the north. The scent was much stronger now – were there more? Why did the Hobs have to kill Nob?

Dead dead dead dead dead dead dead.

Nob went forward, trying to find a way with more trees up the pass. Nob didn’t want to die yet. Maybe Nob could hide inside a bush and wait until Zrol went away. Maybe the Humans wouldn’t find Nob.

Dead dead dead dead dead dead dead.

Nob looked around. Nob was far past the marker. Eyes darting around, Nob looked down at the bald stones of the pass. Nearer to Nob, the leaves of the bushes moved silently in the wind.

Something hit Nob. Nob went flying into the trunk of a tree, hitting Nob’s head. Through blurred vision, Nob thought Nob saw a shadow approach, shifting through the brush. Nob’s sight cleared and the shadow became a tall thing.

A Forest Giant? No, the Humans deaded them all long ago…the Humans...Human?

Nob stared over at the shadow in the trees. It was a Human. At least it smelled like the Human smell on the wind. Why was it so huge?

As it stalked forward, Nob looked around for Nob’s spear, but Nob must have dropped it. Nob’s bow…was broken – Nob’s rear had landed on it. Nob felt around the strip of leather tied around Nob’s waist and found an old friend. It was Nob’s rock. A trusty weapon Nob had used to kill many birds, rats and squirrels. Also, it was a rock made out of stone. With the stone rock, Nob might be able to win.

The Human reached down. Nob moved to get up and surprise the Human, but it was faster than Nob had expected. A cold, cruel hand wrapped itself around Nob’s scrawny neck, and Nob found himself lifted high up in the air.

Humans, weak? Stupid Hob was stupid – Humans were stupid strong! The Human was holding Nob up so high with just a single hand! Nob hit the Human with all of Nob’s might, but the stone rock only glanced off. There was a dull metal shell over the Human’s arm. That wasn’t fair! Nob kicked and flailed away, but the choking grasp only tightened around Nob’s neck.

Out of breath, Nob hung limply in the air. The stone rock fell out of Nob’s shaking hand. Nob was dead. Stupid Hobs – deading Nob. If only they had never come.

The world whirled. Nob was flying through the air again. Was this death? No, it was fluffy. Fluffy like the old boss’ bear hide blanket. Maybe death was fluffy. Nob looked up and saw a giant feline head looking back down with flaring, crimson eyes.

Nob’s mouth fell open in a terrified shriek. It was only then that Nob realized that the world had long gone silent.

As the days went by, Ludmila quietly tracked the progress of the Goblin army as it spread across the upper reaches. As expected of the disciplined and militant nature of their Hobgoblin commanders, they advanced in an orderly and predictable way while they carried out what was probably their established routine. Encampments were placed roughly five kilometres apart from one another, following sources of water. At each new camp, they would dispatch Goblin scouts to investigate the surrounding area before sending soldiers forward to start the next.

Local Demihuman tribes were either pressed into service or turned into food. Many fled east, ahead of the advancing army, causing all manner of chaos in the basin. So far, none had attempted crossing over the northern passes.

At home, she was not idle either. Immediately after Lady Shalltear departed she had a warning scribed to be delivered to the cathedral in E-Rantel, who would, in turn, pass the information on to the Slane Theocracy. She wasn’t sure how long the south would take to mobilize, but any relief from that side would be welcome. Warnings were also sent directly to Count Völkchenheim, Countess Jezne and Countess Corelyn, as their territories were at risk should the advancing Goblin army break through in their direction.

The Royal Court was, of course, provided updates, but there was no hint of any action being taken by the administration yet. Several orders to the various businesses in E-Rantel were also sent out, including a request for additional alchemical supplies from Germaine LeNez.

While the Goblin army was initially making its way into the upper reaches, she also took the time to visit each of the farming villages in turn. Rather than offering empty reassurances, she told them exactly what was going on in the upper reaches and what her expectations were. Hopefully, letting them know would cement the idea that staying within the safety of their villages was in their own best interests. On a more positive note, the magical ateliers run by the newly-arrived Zurrernorn members reported that their products were being sold as quickly as they were being made.

Isabella suggested that it was mostly due to the villagers being trapped within their respective walls and looking for curiosities to satisfy their boredom. Since their logistics were being handled entirely by Undead servitors, the movement of supplies between the harbour and the villages remained uninterrupted. Overall, it seemed that her subjects were treating it as a sort of holiday where they spent their harvest earnings on items and furniture for their homes, as well as socializing with their fellow villagers. One of Ludmila’s concerns before the Demihumans started to arrive in the upper reaches was that the Farmers might hoard their earnings, so it was a relief to her that money was starting to circulate in her demesne.

Ludmila supposed things could have been much worse. She had half expected mass panic from the mix of city folk and other denizens of the inner territories, but perhaps they were so detached from the threats of the border that they were essentially oblivious to them. Another part of her wondered if it was due to the subtle influence that she had over her subjects at large: it was a rather reckless attitude to take for purely civilian villagers. If it were Re-Estize, it would have been decidedly suicidal. Looking back, she thought it was perhaps the core of what made the villagers of Warden’s Vale so stoic in the first place, and the breakdown of that state due to the loss of her father and her refusal at the time to take up the mantle of lordship.

During her overall preparations, one troublesome issue was the matter of the third village, which was still undergoing construction. Though the village buildings were mostly complete, the walls were not even started yet. In the end, she divided its population between the two completed villages, having them either share living space with smaller families or stay in the as-of-yet unoccupied service buildings around the market square. Doing so freed up the pair of Death Knights assigned to the third village, bringing her total available number up to seven.

Lady Shalltear’s promised vassals arrived the same night she left, as well: six Shadow Demons. Her liege had sent her the three that had assisted in Fassett County, plus three more for the Linum sisters to train in the same manner as the first set. She was uncertain what she would ever need six Shadow Demons for, but maybe they were to be used elsewhere. Wiluvien and Lluluvien happily went to work, providing her with intelligence on the Goblin army’s composition, the way their camps were arranged, and even some of their movements.

In the time that she had taken to make her preparations, the Goblin army had split into two, separate arms – each following one of the rivers flowing down from the west. The southern arm had already occupied the southern half of the central valley, while the northern arm was behind due to their later start. Ludmila felt that it was an ideal time to strike: the northern arm would be in an overextended position until they came around to meet with what appeared to be the main body of the Goblin army in the central valley.

Surmising that the Hobgoblins would continue with their orderly routine, she sent a dozen Bone Vultures to monitor the string of camps that appeared to be creeping their way up to the western passes. She set additional Bone Vultures just in case new encampments were being made in the direction of the eastern passes, then others to see if the army continued to progress towards the Katze River and back down the central valley to complete their logistical loop.

Now, all she needed to do was wait for the Goblins to come to her.

After waiting in a sheltered crag above the western passes for eighteen hours, a Bone Vulture arrived to deliver the report she was hoping for: a small group of Hobgoblins and Goblins leaving the closest encampment, heading north towards the westernmost pass. She stretched her cramped muscles and hopped onto Nonna’s shoulders, and together they flew off to see what the evening would bring them.

Two hours later, Ludmila spotted movement in the trees below. She ordered the two Death Knights at the top of the pass to pull back and out of sight.

“It looks like our first guest has arrived,” she told Nonna. “Cast Invisibility on us and descend to about a hundred metres over the ground.”

The Elder Lich complied with her orders, and a ghostly film superimposed itself over the both of them. Ludmila held up her hand to study it, then looked down at Nonna.

“If someone has an Invisibility effect on them,” she asked, “can they see other invisible people?”

“It would still require something that confers the ability to see invisible persons.”

That seemed annoying. She scanned the surroundings as they descended, looking for any other scouts.

『I am keeping track of this one. Fly us over the pass and see if there are any others.』

After an hour flying back and forth, Ludmila decided that the lone Goblin was the only one: a sacrifice to test the rumours that the invading Hobgoblins had undoubtedly heard about Warden’s Vale from the locals.

『There does not appear to be anything. Time to head back and see where our little Goblin friend has gone.』

They found it not far from where they had left it, carefully picking its way up the slope. It went from bush to bush, searching for groups of trees to advance between. Every few minutes, it stopped to look around nervously. Judging from its appearance, it was not a very important Goblin. It held a wooden spear in one hand and a crude shortbow in the other. Aside from that, it only had a loincloth that was practically a tattered leather rag.

Ludmila tapped her chin as they followed the Goblin on its meandering journey up the pass. Of the Goblin forces observed, the Hobgoblins appeared to have some semblance of proper equipment. The rest were divided between haves and have-nots. Stronger looking Bugbears and Goblins appeared to be decently equipped by tribal standards, while the weaker ones were armed like the one below. If it was one of the ones native to the upper reaches, there was a chance that she could make use out of it.

She looked ahead, trying to predict the Goblin’s future course.

『Head over above that group of pines, about five metres from the ground. Silent Cast Silence on me when the Goblin gets there. Leave the spell with its default radius; I will be dropping down after you cast it.』

The Elder Lich flew over to the place that Ludmila indicated, and she checked the ground below. It seemed safe enough to land on. The Goblin eventually made its way forward, and the world suddenly became silent. Ludmila leaned backwards off of Nonna’s shoulders. She tumbled over in the air before landing on her feet.

Sneaking up behind the Goblin, she reached out to grasp the end of its spear, then lashed out with her foot. It was a basic Strike Art that drove an opponent back more than anything else, but it was enough to send the Goblin flying headfirst into a nearby tree. Ludmila tossed the crude spear aside, walking up to the Goblin who lay there in a daze.

The Demihuman looked up at her with unfocused eyes, and she leaned over to pick it up. It tried to move as she did so, but she grabbed it by the neck before it got too far. Ludmila held it out at arm’s length, wrinkling her nose at the smell as it kicked and flailed and doggedly struck her bracer with a rock.

Ludmila looked up in the direction of the pass.

『Send your Squire Zombie over here.』

After some time, the Krkonoše Squire Zombie appeared. The Goblin had ceased its struggles by then, and she tossed it over to the Squire Zombie.

『Hold onto this guy – don’t let him escape.』

The Goblin came to shortly after being caught, and Ludmila thought its eyes would come out of its sockets as it screamed up at the sight of the Undead Krkonoše Zombie. No sound issued from the Goblin – nor any other sounds, for that matter – due to the Silence spell blanketing the area around Ludmila, but it kept screaming nonetheless. Eventually, the Goblin fainted again and lay still.

Ludmila gestured up towards Nonna, and sound returned to the world.

“We’re going back to the far side of the pass,” she said. “Time to find out what we can do with this guy.”