Bloodsworn

Chapter 2.37 Raid

37.

Red light bathed the interior of the shuttle as they rocketed toward the earth. Pale faces were coated in nervous sweat, the lines of tightly packed militia shifting nervously as they screamed downward. Two of them had already bent over and let loose the contents of their stomachs. It had hardly drawn contempt, the nervous, fearful energy so thick that all were drowning.

Erak ran his thumb over the top of his hammer on the sturdy belt he wore. Pomp curled around him, tail wrapped around the pauldron while his head rested next to Erak’s. The entire shuttle shook and then everyone groaned as the sudden deceleration attempted to shove them through the floor.

Natural light bathed the room as the ramp lowered, the roar of the engines growing till it blocked out all other noise. Erak’s position near the edge allowed him to be the first off the shuttle that hovered a few inches off the ground. He strode forth, eyes sweeping across the depot.

Little had changed since they had retreated. The creatures hadn’t ransacked the buildings. By the time he managed to reach the edge of the depot and looked upon the forest, the roar of the shuttle’s engines were fading as it raced back to Sword of Empire. Trucks rumbled toward them from the road they had used last time, a long line of the vehicles ready to be filled with desperately needed supplies.

Distant sounds of fighting could faintly be heard, flashes of light in the deep forest. The main attack forces had already launched their assault on the goblinoids. Erak wished he was out there with them, but his orders had been given.

“Spread out, two deep, shields out!” Pomp yelled as he flew over the lines of militia. Nevia’s team would be landing soon and Sammus would soon be out and about, trying to organize the ravaging of the depot. It would be a few minutes before everyone was deployed to where they were supposed to be.

Erak stood behind the line of militia, able to see over them with ease, and waited. The nervous energy slowly dissipated as nothing stirred on the edge of the forest. The fighting was so distant that Erak could hardly hear it.

“About an hour to have everything of value loaded up,” Sammus informed him fifteen minutes into the mission. The prince looked bored as he looked around the area. Erak risked a look back toward where he knew Rutledge was. The old woman was dangerous.

“I don’t trust her. And I don’t like pursuing this knowledge. It is foul and heretical.” He wasn’t going to stop her. Victoria had ordered this information brought forth and he had sworn his oaths. He turned back toward the forest just in time to see a man come running out of the woods.

The soldier was a regular, one of Captain Keller’s, and he was running as if all the gates of hell had opened behind him. There was no decorum or discipline left as he ran, just pure panic. His armor, a simple breastplate and cap, were askew and his caster was nowhere to be seen. Blood coated his face, smears of red across pale flesh.

“RUN!” the man screamed. Erak’s militia shifted about but Pomp roared, a pure draconic bellow of rage. The shifting stopped.

If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

“Soldier! Calm yourself and report!” Sammus barked, walking between the guards to grab at the Imperial. The man squirmed for a moment before seeming to realize who was holding him. Obeisance struck and the man fell to one knee as he began to speak, words tumbling one after the other over themselves in a string of barely comprehensible drivel.

“They were in the woods waiting for us hundreds of them all of them angry and hungry and they began to eat and eat and kill while they ate everyone is dead, they just kept coming!” The soldier never broke his long stream of words but Erak got the gist of it.

They had been massacred. Or were in the middle of being massacred. The Imperials weren’t as high leveled or disciplined as the Royal Guard, but they were head and shoulders better than the militia. If they had been destroyed by the goblins, then his small force had no chance of surviving.

“Prepare for evacuation,” Erak signed to Sammus when the prince looked at him. Sammus nodded and broke away in a fast loping stride back towards all of the movers. The forest was growing silent again, the flashes of light no longer coming frequently and the sounds of fighting entirely fading.

“STEADY!” Pomp roared as the militia began to shuffle nervously again. Nevia and her platoon came hustling out of the center of the depot, her long caster squad running up the side of one of the depot buildings in a mirror of what they had done last time.

“This could go poorly,” Pomp whispered to him. Erak nodded as he drew the heavy hammer. His new sword stayed in its sheath. A shape came out the edge of the forest.

It was taller than the ones he had seen the first time, more well muscled, and with a thick topknot of hair that jutted up into the sky. The goblin was dressed only in stolen pants and wielded an Infernal Soldier’s spear that it shook as it screamed in rage. All around the forest shapes began to appear, filling the edge of the forest. Hundreds of shapes.

“Those are the weapons that the regulars were carrying,” Pomp told him, pointing with one long talon to the far edge of the goblin line. They were carrying casters and wearing still sodden Imperial uniforms. Scores of the goblins filled the edge of the clearing and Erak looked back at the line of still rushing around workers.

“They need to evacuate. About five minutes ago.” Pomp huffed in agreement, but stayed on Erak’s shoulder. The goblins held steady, time stretched out and Erak wondered briefly of Aloria and her Royal Guards. It looked as if regulars had either been destroyed or driven off.

“Erak, the support say they need twenty minutes,” Nevia said as she closed the distance. The diminutive officer looked over at the still line of goblins and swallowed. The beast’s mouths were smeared with blood.

“We won’t last five,” Erak signed to her. Already the militia were beginning to nervously back up.

“What do you think they’re waiting for?” Nevia asked. The goblins were standing there staring at them. The biggest of them started to slowly walk forward, his topknot bouncing as he slowly crossed the distance.

“Don’t fire. I’ll buy us time.” Erak told Nevia. He pushed through the line of militia. They parted easily enough, growing silent as he marched forward. The steady beat of his heart began to increase as they closed in on each other.

The giant goblin still hardly reached Erak’s shoulder, but there was a thickness to its body that spoke of strength even as it strode with a smoothness that made Erak wary. Scars dotted its chest and shoulders, thin and faint for the most part, but a few were still red and ugly.

Goblinoid Chieftain lvl. 38

Crawling out of the pits of dark science and alchemy, this warrior stands at the pinnacle of his savage race.