“Your Clan is weak and pitiful. The elves ran you from your home, and now you try to muscle in where you are not wanted,” Bordon replied. It was the first time SJ had heard the Ogre talk in the common tongue, and it was a slightly broken, unnatural sound. “I have already told you I will not give up the valley.
“Your rights? You are the scum of Amathera, you and your kind. No morals, no standards; look at the state you have made of this village. I remember visiting here years ago. It was a beautiful area, and you and your group have devastated it since your arrival.” The words from the orc were more eloquent than SJ was expected, and his reply sounded educated.
“The valley is ours, and soon the town will be ours. Your kind are not welcome here. You have been warned before about entering.”
“It’s not yours; it belongs to the orcs. We are the oldest race of Amathera. Whatever land we choose to reside in belongs to us by rights of age,” the orc called.
“I will give you ten minutes to start moving from the valley, Jabrey, or it will be the last thing you ever do.” Bordon threatened, growling deeply. The hobgoblin line cheered his comment.
Jabrey waited for silence to return before replying, “I will, therefore, offer you the same. Ten minutes to leave the village. You may head west over the mountains and find yourselves a new home.” At his response, the war drums commenced again.
SJ hadn’t seen the mage. She was so transfixed on the two leaders talking and, now remembering, began to scan for where Iratu was. Bordon turned and returned to his line, not worried he had turned his back on Jabrey. Jabrey spat on the ground before turning his mount and began trotting back.
“Have you seen the mage?” SJ whispered.
“No,” Harrietta whispered in response. It was still freaking SJ out that she was talking to an invisible ghost who could easily be sat cross-legged just watching everything unfold without a care in the word.
“I need to find him,” SJ said. As Bordon returned to the hob ranks, SJ watched them part and allowed him to go through them. Many of the hobs were carrying crude spears and swords. The hobgoblin archers were spaced out along the line looking at them. Most of the orcs appeared to be wearing scale mail compared to the hobgoblin’s leather armour, and several were bare-chested and had the clan emblem painted on their chests. They were all wearing a war paint, whether stripes of red across their faces or markings on their clothing or armour. The force looked fierce and formidable.
As the drums continued to beat and the hobs began shouting back, SJ worked to the roof’s edge. She watched Bordon walk towards one of the buildings and stooped to enter the doorway. An old, battered sign was hanging from a post at the door. A picture of a wolf’s head could still be seen on it amongst what looked like several axe strikes. The building must have been the village in its old life. Now, decorating either side of the door were two animal skulls. SJ thought they may be a bear, although they looked much larger than any bear she had ever seen. Gathering her steel and looking at the lines of chanting drumming enemies, she flew straight to the Inn’s roof.
Landing and listening, making sure no calls were directed her way and her senses didn’t trigger, she assumed she was safe and edged to where a chimney had once stood. It was now just open to the elements, and peering down, she saw the hunched form of Iratu and another hob. SJ could not see Bordon from where she was positioned. Beneath the opening was a cauldron, and within a putrid purple-coloured liquid, slowly formed thick-looking bubbles before they burst, releasing small clouds of vapour.
Bordon spoke in the tongue she had heard before, not knowing what was said or the reply.
“He asked if the poison was ready. The mage and rogue confirmed it was. They have cooked up something not just poisonous but alchemical between them,” Dave said.
SJ nodded, not knowing if Dave would even realise, but guessed he would. She needed to ask him about what he saw. It had never really entered her mind before. She assumed it was like a third-person view but would check when in a position to speak openly.
Speaking again, SJ waited for Dave to interpret.
“The rogue is going to start distributing it to the hobs. They have been cooking it up all night since they noticed the orc’s arriving.”
SJ was thinking about what she could do. Yes, the orcs were problematic, but compared to the hobs, they seemed civilized. She wished Gary was here so she could find out more about them. Thinking through her options, she took the healing potion from her pouch. Steam was rising from the cauldron, and the mage and rogue were now off to one side, collecting some vials. SJ opened the vial and poured the liquid into the cauldron without further consideration.
The red liquid landed on the surface, seeming to float, before sinking slowly, dispersing in the liquid. The rogue returned to the cauldron and picked up a ladle resting against its side. The reaction began as he moved to scoop some of the cauldron’s liquid. The liquid began to increase in activity, the already boiling liquid became more violent, and the bubbles formed more rapidly on its surface. SJ stared down as more steam erupted from the cauldron, and a thick mist rolled over its sides. It reminded SJ of the smoke in nightclubs she had visited when they flooded the dance floors.
The rogue suddenly drew back and shouted something to the mage. The mage turned a startled look on its face, and then it happened. The cauldron exploded. SJ pulled back from the hole in the roof just in time, and a spout of purple liquid, light, and smoke erupted. Below her, she heard the scream of the rogue and mage. SJ moved to the flat edge, which was not visible from the assembled lines because of the roof shape as the mage staggered out of the Inn. The explosion had caused several hobs to turn and look, including Bordon, who had returned to the line. The mage coughed and spluttered as it escaped the vapours and mist that followed it out of the door, its robes covered in the liquid, and it began to pull them off as the material began to corrode quickly.
“That was a mental thing to do. You do realise you could have just blown the whole village up. Messing with alchemical reactions like that can and is very dangerous, but the man, did that look good shooting out of the hole in the roof like that,” Dave chuckled.
“I had to do something,” SJ whispered.
Two hobs came running over to the mage to assist him, and he struck out at them and screamed in rage, continuing to remove his robes.
“Now, that was foul language indeed. What had that kobold ever done wrong?” Dave tutted.
SJ could imagine what he had said. The mages robes were ruined and now lay on the ground, and underneath his robes, he was wearing normal clothing, a pair of trousers and a loose-fitting shirt, with several marks on them where the liquid had begun to eat into them. The robes made him appear imposing, but he looked much scrawnier and not as intimidating without them. In her last meeting with Iratu, she had struggled to damage him, and without his robes, she hoped it might be different. Bordon called to him, and Iratu screamed back, pointing back into the Inn.
“He just blamed the rogue,” Dave giggled.
The purple vapour and mist began to clear, and as it did, the tempo of the war drums began to increase. Bordon was facing the enemy line, waiting, tapping his club into his huge palm in time with the orc’s drumbeat. Then silence enveloped the lines, and the drums stopped all at once. It hung in the air for several moments as Bordon cried out. The hobs began to chant and took a step forward.
As this happened, the drums began again, and the beat was much faster. SJ stared across at the orcs as cries erupted, and they began to bang their weapons against their shields in time with the drumbeat if they held one. It was a sight to behold. The orcs stepped forward, and then a second step slowly began to pick up speed. The hobs began to do the same.
Bordon began increasing his speed as he ran across the battlefield, aiming directly for Jabrey on his mount. He screamed in rage. His club was held high above his head. Because of his size, he reached the centre before anyone else, and three orcs moved to intercept him as he attempted to approach Jabrey, whose mount was still standing stationary, awaiting an order to charge.
One of the unfortunate orcs received the full power of Bordon’s club as he swung it like a polo player would from horseback, catapulting the orc backwards, and its helmet went flying. She wasn’t sure if its head was still in it as Bordon ploughed through the other two, knocking them aside like bowling pins. Jabrey still sat there, not moving, and it was only as Bordon closed to within thirty feet he moved. The Borzie went from stationary to a speed SJ struggled to keep track of, and the two powerful beasts met with a sound like thunder.
As the two leaders clashed, the hobs and orcs began to reach each other. Some fired crossbows before dropping them and switching to melee weapons. Several bolts hit their marks, and a few staggered from initial wounds received. Total and utter chaos had commenced as a vicious melee got underway. As this happened, SJ looked down and saw the mage pick up his ruined robes. It screamed in anger at them before throwing them to the ground again. Looking out towards the battle, Iratu snarled and stepped into the gap between the buildings. Flourishing his hands, he conjured a red ball and released it with an angry scream. The fireball he had created flew across the field, taking an unsuspecting orc completely by surprise. It was hit square in its face, screaming, throwing its hands up, and grasping its now blackened face as two of the hobs then pierced it with their spears.
Orcs screamed, and hobgoblins cried as the violence ensued between the two sides. Bordon was viciously striking at the mount of Jabrey. He was not trying to hit the Orc himself but trying to disable his mount. The giant Borzie swung its huge head and tusks in defence. Jabrey swung his flail, the metal spiked balls having a significant reach on them, and they smashed into the side of Bordon. Although Bordon staggered from the blow, he received no physical damage, and SJ was sure she noticed Jabrey’s eyes widen slightly in realisation. The mage must have cast his invulnerability spell on him already.
The orcs could not stand a chance of winning if Bordon remained invulnerable, and SJ knew what she had to do.
“Harrietta?” SJ whispered.
“Yes?” she replied, right by SJ’s ear.
“Can you help me attack the mage?”
“If you wish. What would you like me to do?”
“Have you not fought before?”
“Nope. Fran doesn’t allow me to fight, and before I was turned into what I am now, I didn’t know many combat spells. I know a few now, but they are not high-level.”
“Can you think of anything that can help? He normally has a shield, which takes time to break down.”
“I can cast dispel magic and see if that helps. I only learned it the other day. Give me a minute to prepare.”
“I am heading down as you see me grow. Can you cast it, please.”
“Sure, but I will be visible when I do. I can’t do magic while hidden.”
“Just cast it, then fly away. I don’t want you getting hurt.”
“Unless there is a cleric or paladin here, I very much doubt they have anything that can affect me.”
“OK. Wait for me to grow.”
SJ took off, flew to the other side, and dropped down by the side of the wall. There was no way anyone was paying her any attention, not with the carnage unfolding on the plain.
Iratu had his back to her, casting another fireball screaming as he hurled it at two orcs. SJ equipped her claws and began to grow. Standing next to the building, she looked up and saw Harrietta appear as she closed her eyes and, with a flourish of her hands, cast a rainbow-coloured stream of light at the mage. The light met with the shield surrounding Iratu and began to crackle over its surface. Iratu turned and looked up where the stream was coming from, screaming again and throwing a dark bolt at Harrietta. Harrietta didn’t even flinch as the bolt passed through her harmlessly. The rainbow skittered across the shield’s surface, making it visible, and as SJ watched, the shield began to break down. As soon as it was open, she ran.
Iratu didn’t notice SJ off behind and to the side, and it was only when she reached him and triggered her identification skill that he noticed and began to turn.
Hobgoblin Mage
Level: 18
Hit Points: 71 of 105
Mana Points: 185 of 270
Armour Class: 10
Attacks: Magic
Special: Invulnerability
Her display triggered with the information, and she noticed the reduced armour class and hit points, seeing the damage he had sustained from the cauldron blast.
Her claws tore into Iratu, raking his side as his reduced armour class and lake of awareness of her presence allowed her to hit easily. His health dropped by a further 21. SJ’s heart leapt at the increase in damage. If she could land a few strikes, she could finish him. Iratu spun, screaming in rage, swinging his arm out violently. SJ was not expecting the blow, and it caught her across her face. She tasted blood in her mouth as her vision blurred for an instant.
He may have looked weak, but he was still a level 18 mage compared to her level 7. Taking precautions, she stepped away and readied herself. The mage quickly moved his hands in action as a black bolt began to appear. Just as SJ thought it would fly at her, a blue bolt of light struck the mage on its side, distracting him, and it fizzled out.
“Get him, SJ,” Harrietta screamed from the roof where she now floated, clearly visible.
Iratu’s hit points had not reduced from the blue bolt, but it had been enough to make him turn and glare at Harrietta, and that was the only opening SJ needed. Using her latest kata form, she began to attack. The mage was fast, and on turning back, he began to block her strikes with his arms, parrying her forearms so as not to injure himself on the claws. The black dagger suddenly appeared in his hand again, and SJ knew it was poisonous. Watching for any movement of its hand, it went to slash out at her, and as he did, SJ dropped to a sweeping kick, bringing her shin around to impact with the side of his ankle as the blade swept over where she had just been stood.
Taking another step back immediately, she faced him again. As she watched, a second blade appeared in his other hand. SJ knew this was going to get dangerous. There were no healers nearby who could help her if she got poisoned, she still had the antidote from Gladys but wasn’t sure how strong any poison may be. Iratu moved at her, it was obvious that even though a mage he also practiced with blades as she began to fend off his attacks with her claws. She triggered her Shroud skill, to at least offset any damage received. Remembering the conversation with Jurgen as she did, ensuring not to overextend, allowing her blades to meet those of the daggers.
Another flash of light, and this time, an orange lance hit Iratu. He groaned from the impact, but it again did little damage. Harrietta was trying to help in any way she could. SJ stepped in as a follow-up to the strike, and with Iratu off-balance, she plunged her claws into his abdomen. Again, they penetrated easily with his reduced armour class, and another 23 hit points fell. With the minor damage from the magic and her kick, he only had 22 remaining.
“Get him,” Dave screamed in her head excitedly.
“Watch it,” Dave and Harrietta cried in unison as a hob attacked her.
She hadn’t noticed the hob that had moved back to support Iratu and only when its mace caught her in the side did, she realise a moment too late. Her senses were already heightened because of the fight so had not seen the new threat. Her health took a dive reducing by a third, thankfully her Shroud was still active or it could have been much worse, and she staggered sideways from the blow. Wincing in pain she turned to face her new threat as Iratu stepped back from the melee.
She didn’t even bother identifying it. She just attacked, rage flooding her. She moved with a speed and surety that she had never moved before. Her moves felt natural and precise, her adrenaline pumping. The hob began to back off, a look of fear in its eyes at her savageness. She slashed, jabbed, and kicked out at her new foe. It backed away, trying to keep its distance and using its mace to block her blows as best as possible. As it backed into the wall of the Inn and had nowhere else to go, she hit home. Piercing it in its chest and performing a claw strike straight across its face. Imagining it was one of the straw training dummies, she performed her repeated strikes. Its health dropped so quickly, and SJ stepped back, panting as its body fell to the ground. She spun to look for Iratu, who had disappeared from the side of the building.
“Where is he?” SJ screamed.
“He went left,” Harrietta called.
SJ glanced at the ensuing battle; she had no idea who was winning, but she would not let Iratu escape this time. Running to the edge of the building, she ran around the corner, and her senses went into overdrive. She dived forward as, once again, her dragon blood saved her from certain death. The ball that passed her was not a fireball but seemed to absorb the very light as it passed by.
“That was an arcane death spell. It has a cooldown of 24 hours. He will have just used his mana up with that,” Dave said.
The ball continued past where SJ had stood and out into the battlefield. Two hobs and an orc were busy fighting when it struck them. The screams they let out pierced the whole battlefield’s sounds. Their bodies began to disintegrate as it ate into them. SJ quickly stood and looked at Iratu. His shoulders looked sagged, and the spell must have taken a lot out of him as she pounced. Sprinting down the alley towards him he moved his hands in a flourish again another bolt beginning to form, the strain was clear on his face. Harrietta stepped in again, throwing another blue bolt at him, disturbing his cast, giving SJ the time to reach him. Leaping at him, she thrust both her sets of claws out as she jumped, punching them both forward and piercing him in his chest.
Her momentum carried forward, and Iratu toppled backwards as she landed on top of him. Her claws buried deep into his skin. Staring at her with wide eyes of disbelief, the hobgoblin mage said one word in a broken common tongue, “How?”
