Race through the Waste

The horses were exhausted and the men were forced to dismount and run on foot. The goblins, being hardier afoot than us began to steadily close the gap. Gronth was running as hard as the rest of us, clearly running for his life as well. That surprised Nat…why would a goblin flee his own kind? It would make more sense to join his kind. He obviously had a lot to learn about goblins. He decided to ask Gronth later. Soon however even such idle thoughts were lost as the strain to run on took its toll on his body. He had to continue on though! He had to! The goblins were right on their heels barely behind them. They reached the edge of the mountains. The foothills. These were rocky gorges and crevices with all sorts of brush and dry stream beds leading out from the mountains.

Vaguely as though from a long distance, Nat heard Jerlom shouting for the men to prepare to do battle. There was a gorge ahead that he planned to insert us into and hold them off. Nat ran half staggering towards the gorge. Jerlom reached it and tossed his reigns to another soldier. He swept up a large battle axe from his saddle. “This is where we stop fleeing and will die valiantly!” he thundered. We rushed into the gorge. Nat came stumbling towards it. He heard goblin feet pounding the ground hard behind him and turned. A goblin with a scimitar rushed towards him. A burst of adrenaline swept through him and Nat spun to face him shouting, “Hubleton!” Suddenly the gorge shook and rocks came smashing down crushing the lead goblins. They piled up directly in front of Nat stunning him. He turned and joined Dyl in the battle line. The goblins swept up and over the pile of rocks and continue pressing forward. They engaged and the fighting raged fiercely. Then it happened. A shout arose from the mouth of the gorge followed closely by a roar of explosions. Suddenly a hoard of mailed warriors appeared. Wielding great swords and axes they came driving into the goblins. It couldn’t be though! Nat could not believe his eyes. These glittering warriors were all short! Could they truly be the fabled dwarves…he hadn’t really believed the Gronth when he said the goblins had many wars with the dwarves but here were real dwarves! The goblins reeled in surprise. The dwarves came swarming into the gorge and overwhelmed the goblin force cutting down all in their paths. They seemed to take care of the goblins easily enough.

The fight ended and the dwarves began scrambling shouting back and forth in a strange language. The leader approached the men from Hubleton and addressed them, “Good work! This was Griklorec and his men. What I want to know is how you caused that minor avalanche! This is solid rock! I see no blasting powder marks and you have no magicians with you. The deities must be with you.” He explained that he and his dwarves had watched the chase from afar and determined to avenge themselves on the hated goblins when the fight approached their fortress. They were invited to celebrate a victory at one of the nearby towns. Jerlom was genuinely surprised that there was a nearby town and the dwarves laughed. “Wait until you get there!” they said.

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Well there we go! I finished a first draft of the map and I am sending it to John so he can hopefully put it on the blog. I don't know much about putting images in these things...so I will let him do that part. I shall continue revising the maps and hope to make some more in the next few months. Have fun reading!

Into the Waste

Hello readers! Here is a quick note concerning the Random Story Blog (Team Fantasy). I am in the process of creating a map and am doing some research but hopefully I can get it sent to John and he can post it. That way y’all can follow the characters around. Unfortunately I have forgotten the names to several locations and need to look them up so it could be a couple weeks before I get the map all drawn up and entered into the computer. Don’t expect anything too fancy either…I am just trying to do my research and get some names I have forgotten and need to fill in.

The rain was sorely missed in the Southern Wastes. Goblin homelands, as Gronth had called them. The wastes were rugged and definitely a fitting climate for goblins it would seem. Gronth said that his village was on the edge of the mountains. They fought often with the dwarves there for control of the mountains.

“Dwarves!” Nat had exclaimed. “They exist!”

“Of course,” was the gravelly reply. “If one isn’t careful a dwarf broadsword could cleave your knee cap off in those mountains. Many a goblin has disappeared in those mountains. The Goblins in the mountains are often much more…blood crazy.”

Nat could hardly believe his ears. A goblin was telling him that the mountain goblins were much more blood thirsty than himself.

Soon however all incredulity over that was forgotten as the Waste’s heat and sun began to drain the warrior’s strength. The sun blazed endlessly for hour after hour. Few trees grew. In different locations shrubs may be found but there was no accessible water. Unless they dug deep. They reached the first oasis parched to the bone and spent too little time there for Nat’s liking. 50 men and horses drink a lot when they are thirsty though and soon the water was hardly fit for drinking anyways. Moving on they pressed hard for the mountains.

Nat was walking his horse along with most of the others when suddenly Gronth spotted a dust cloud. “A large party approaches!” He hissed.

“Jerlom,” Nat shouted, “A party approaches!”

Jerlom swiftly swung into the saddle and shouted out for some of the soldiers to follow him. Dyl strung a bow and nocked an arrow. He half drew it and peered off after Jerlom. Nat did the same. Gronth was chained to another soldier’s horse and on foot. He appeared ready for anything. Suddenly the dust cloud resolved itself into…into…goblins! Shoot! They came pouring over the rim of the hill and drew to a halt in front of Jerlom. A big goblin, almost man-size and probably much stronger stepped forward and addressed Jerlom. They were too far off to hear what was exchanged but it probably was not very good. Jerlom was gesticulating wildly and suddenly without warning the goblin lunged at Jerlom. Wheeling his mount aside Jerlom came galloping wildly back with his men shouting for us to flee! Dyl loosed his arrow and struck a goblin far off. Nat followed suit and then they both turned and raced off with the rest who shot an arrow or two before racing off. The goblins pursued swiftly. They were very fast and for the next three hours managed to keep within sight of us. We managed to lose them in the haze of dust and a windstorm began to pick up. It slowed us down quickly. The mountains were within clear sight but still so far away it seemed! When the storm finished it was only to reveal that the goblins had caught us up again. Apparently sandstorms did not deter goblins like they did humans.

“What did they say?” Nat asked Jerlom.

“They wanted us to leave their land. I refused so they said that we would all die,” was the grim reply. “There are over 100 of them too! We will be slaughtered unless we can find a good defensible position We were moving fast and alternated between running and riding. We would pause long enough to swing out of the saddle and run on foot and lead our horse or to swing onto our horse. Nat soon began to weary. They couldn’t lose the goblins! The goblins slowly closed the distance. They were strong and hardy! To run this long and hard in the desert! Nat marveled at their endurance and feared it. They had to reach those mountains! That was the only way to survive! Even then it was doubtful they would make it. At the rate the horses were tiring they would be overrun long before then!

End of the next chapter! Yay! Hope you guys enjoyed it! Hey John! You gotta post another chapter too!

The Long Dreary Chase

Rains set in. Rain set the pace and the mood of the hunters. The goblins they had attacked had been but a few. After much questioning though, they ascertained that Gronth’s raiding party had only been a tiny fraction of the goblin force that was heading south. This was dreary news indeed and the rain did little to alleviate the feeling that they were riding into death.

Nat discussed his discoveries of the night before with Dyl that morning. In the Gronth and Nat again paired off and sparred with each other. Jerlom must be an awesome fighter to have managed to capture this goblin! Nat thought. The goblin crushed any offensive Nat made and pounded defenses literally into splinters as their practice swords often snapped. It felt good loosing all his built up energy though! Dyl smiled as he watched them fighting. One of the reasons the goblin was so tough to sword fight, he observed was because the goblins used his smaller size to his advantage and had a foreign style of sword fighting because of his different build. Nat was learning this style though. Dyl watched Nat execute several complex attacks only to be rebuffed by Gronth’s rock solid defense. Gronth would then counter-attack with quick, short slashes. Nat would then stop them and the duel would last for minutes before one or the other dealt out a good hit and the round was over. Today Gronth had won 5 our of 8 rounds. Nat was catching up though. As they sparred Gronth would often talk about his home and discuss different goblin techniques while Nat grunted with the effort of stopping his stick.

“Translated this move is called ‘Splitting the Skull’,” came the gravelly voice as it demonstrated nearly knocking Nat cross eyed. Nat blocked the blow and retaliated. “Ah yes…I haven’t fought many humans as I am so young…we goblins do not rely on speed so much as our brute strength to crush people. Your attacks are difficult to block in time! As my master always told me, when your opponent is faster than you, you must rely on skill to survive. My mother also believes in wounding the opponent before killing them to slow them down if they are faster than her.” Having said this the goblin proceeded to sweep Nat’s feet out from under him…only Nat’s feet weren’t there suddenly. Gronth brought his practice blade up just in time to catch a huge blow that cracked both swords and staggered Gronth. “You are good, Human! A worthy opponent if ever I met one!”

These duels were the only highlights of the dreary trip. They finally reached the Southern Wastes and there was nothing but sand as far as the eye could see. Dunes stretched out endlessly. The Goblin said that there was water to be found but it would take two days to reach it and an additional 4 days to reach the mountains on the other side of the desert. It could have been a trick of the imagination but one could almost see a mountain peak through the dust and sand. There was no other way to get to the goblins. The goblin tracks led straight into the desert. It would be fastest to cut straight through and then sail from Tyldaria to one of the ports further north from which they could then send their families home and then go back to the army. It would be the only way they could rescue their families and return to the army before they were listed as deserters.

Goblins!

The days blended into one nightmare. They were up in the saddle all day and rode until it was impossible to follow the road. Occasionally they ran across signs that the goblins had passed through a certain place or camped in a deserted town. There were approximately 50 hunters, hunting for the goblins. Dressed in tough travel clothes they looked quite fearsome. At night they would throw themselves to the ground pillowing their heads on saddles and sleep hard for a few hours. If the weather was favorable and there was a moon, they would travel hard through the night until the moon set. Finally after a week of hard traveling they ran into a goblin raiding party.

Jerlom was the first to see the goblins. He raised a horn to his lips and charged down upon the goblins brandishing a spear. We followed suite and ripped through the goblins. Nat raced through slashing to either side with his sword. He had never fought on horseback but it was not too much harder than fighting on foot. Reining his horse in after ripping through the goblins, Nat strung a bow and fitted an arrow to it. He aimed at a goblin and let fly the missile. It struck its mark and Nat went on taking down goblin after goblin. The goblins fled and were pursued by the villagers. The fighting died down as soon as it had started. They managed to capture a goblin and Nat noticed its features for the first time. It was shorter than a man but the thick legs and arms were obviously more powerful than most men’s. The eyes were slanted in and yellow wolf-like. His mouth was fixed in a perpetual sneer from a nasty scar on the creature’s face and the pale grey skin looked hard and calloused. The goblin wore leather armor with knife-like protrusions all over. Jerlom rode up and began to question him.

“Where are you from?”

“We came from the South. The High One promised us lots of slaves and loot in exchange for service!” The goblins voice grated on Nat’s ears.

“Who is this High One?”

“We are not permitted to speak of The High One’s name!” The goblin suddenly collapsed in a fit of wheezing coughs. “I cannot speak His name!”

“Can you write his name?” The goblin appeared puzzled by Jerlom’s question at first and then shook with fear.

“To speak The High One’s name is death! Instant death! He has cursed us and blessed us! We must serve him always!”

Jerlom glanced around uneasily. This was sorcerer’s business what with curses and all. He then tried to find out if the goblin could write but had no success in getting anything but babble about the High One’s curse and blessing and occasionally tid-bits about the goblin’s home village. They finally had to continue moving on. They bound the goblin and he jogged along in the middle of the group. The goblin was very strong and Nat realized that he was wounded in the shoulder yet he was able to keep up with the horses at a trot.

Nat nodded to Dyl saying he would be back shortly and rode over to the goblin. “Have you a name?” he queried the goblin.

“Aye, I am Gronth of the Stone Head tribe” was the reply. Nat started talking to the goblin and making normal conversation. Gradually he became to the Gronth’s gravelly gruff voice and learned that Gronth was accounted good with a scimitar or sword among his people. He learned that Gronth was really quite young for a goblin, being about 35 years of age.

“How old do you goblins live to be?”

“My father is 341” was the gravelly reply. Nat could not believe it. 341! Nat discovered that even these goblins were just making a living and surviving. That evening, finding some good sticks, Nat sparred with Gronth. Gronth seemed to enjoy the work out and he said that the wound slowed him but a little. Nat wondered what Gronth was capable of in perfect condition. He was already so good Nat had to defend himself most of the time. Gronth also proved quite honorable in the sparring. He said many among his people were honorable but to humans they only appeared to be savage. Nat fell asleep that night pondering all these new discoveries.

The Chase Begins

Heaps of scorched earth! Nat suddenly felt sick. He had been away “defending” his home and here he returned only to find it gone. They hurried into the village and inspected house after house. There was a surprisingly small number of fatalities it appeared. In fact…the village appeared to have been...deserted. But why would anyone desert their homes. Suddenly an older man by the name of Jerlom shouted something unintelligible. All the soldiers gathered round and peered at what he indicated. A wicked looking dagger lay on the ground. It was pure black, long and curved. The last 2 inches of the blade were serrated. It had strange markings all over it which no one could decipher. “Goblins” Jerlom stated matter-of-factly. “They probably came in here and took everyone they didn’t kill as slaves. That would explain for the few corpses. Unless they were all eaten…but we would find skeletons and bones if the goblins had eaten them all.”

“This couldn’t have happened more than two weeks ago,” another veteran put in. “Everyone spread out and see if you can find tracks of any kind to follow. We shall search for survivors and then decide what to do.” Nat hurried off. His mind was reeling as he scanned the ground for anything unusual. An hour later there came a shout and soon everyone assembled to find a young dirty faced boy, whom Nat recognized. He had often played pranks on people. Now he seemed scared witless and could hardly tell the men anything. After some good food though the boy calmed down and launched into the tale. The goblins had come in the night. They had carried off many people to be sold as slaves. Others had fled into the woods and he had been sent to search for some tools to build shelters.

“Well obviously our kinsfolk are still living! We should go after them and slay these foul goblins!” Jerlom shouted. He was not usually one to get riled up but after inspecting his home in ruins it had finally worn down his patience. Dyl was just shocked silent the whole time. Other men wanted to stay and rebuild so that their families would have food and shelter for the winter. That night a few of the men were reunited with their families but the rest spent the night tossing and turning. Trying to digest this sudden change. The next morning the villagers met and discussed whether to rebuild or pursue the goblins. Nat could not believe it! Some of the villagers just wanted to leave and start over somewhere else. He had not found his mother and he determined to rescue her if it was the last thing he ever did! Dyl’s family was also gone. Dyl grimly muttered, “They will never get me to stop pursuing those goblins. I will pursue them to the end of the earth and if they do not have my family with them, I shall make them pay for every ounce of discomfort they inflicted upon them!” Nat was stunned at Dyl’s expression but he nodded.

That day they discussed where the goblins could have gone. “The most obvious place would be the Southern wastes. Nothing but scorching desert or freezing mountains down there. Then after that you come to the great city-state of Tyldaria. Supposedly it is a city full of all sorts of creatures. But there is a thriving slave trade in the south and in the North towards Siltinia too.” Jerlom finally ended all the debating and announced that they would head south. He was the senior soldier here so everyone had to listen to him if not obey him. “We pack light and be ready to ride hard in the morning!”

Varrelle had been saddened by the sight of the devastation. As Nat and Dyl packed their blankets and weapons she came up to them and smiled sadly. “Leaving already? It is good to rescue your family…” she trailed off as if thinking of her own family. Nat wondered if this is what she always felt like, having had a similar thing occur to her family. Soon however he was back to his work.

The next day dawned bright and early. Nat and Dyl were up and in the saddle awaiting the others when suddenly Varrelle and the old woman rode up to join them. Jerlom noticed and rode over. “I am sorry ma’am but this journey will be much too hard and dangerous for your old bones, grandmother,” he said politely and then gave Varrelle a look which meant that she also was not supposed to come. Varrelle started to make a fuss but then the old woman gave a quick glance and she held her peace. We set out at a quick trot, though Nat wished he could gallop. It would reunite him with his family no sooner however so he held his pace. Dyl talked little. Jerlom and the other thirty men offered little conversation to anyone. They soon passed a neighboring village which was also razed to the ground and ransacked. They picked up a trail at this village. Jerlom pointed out the wider and heavier foot prints and identified them as goblin tracks and the lighter ones were human tracks. The tracks set out southward. They were off to Tyldaria.