As birds flew over the dense forest, a convoy could be seen traveling along a poorly made road. The convoy consisted of 50 carriages, each being pulled by 2 horses. Next to each carriage, which was full of weapons and rations, were 4 light infantrymen diligently guarding the carriages. They were split into duos, with one duo tasked with protecting the front and the other duo protecting the back of the carriage. Sometimes, cavalrymen could be seen traveling from the front to the back of the convoy to ensure that everything was fine.
At the front of the convoy, two knights on light armored horses guided the convoy.
They both had the same silver armor, with a beautiful pattern drawn on it, one knight was wearing a great helm and the other had no helmet. His stern face looked to be in his 40s, he also had a nasty scar running from one side of his face to the other. His piercing brown eyes were alert, scanning every corner ahead of them, and he made sure to never let his guard down.
"Sir," the knight in the great helm called out to him respectfully. There was clearly a hierarchy among the two men, despite both being knights, with the knight without a helmet being above his compatriot.
The older knight glanced at him and nodded giving him the green light to speak.
"Since we will soon be at the fortress, should we do one final check-up on all the convoys to see if everything is in order? Lord Thaddeus is well known for his... well," the knight hesitated, not wanting to offend a lord from a prestigious noble family in front of his superior. Such matters could have dire consequences.
However, luckily for him, the older knight, who appeared visibly more relaxed, simply nodded in understanding and finished what the other knight wanted to say.
"Perfectionist, I know Tristan I've dealt with Lord Thaddeus before and due to this I was also planning on doing what you proposed."
Tristan sighed in relief, grateful that he wasn't being reprimanded for criticizing Lord Thaddeus.
So far, the journey had progressed smoothly, save for the bandit ambush that had briefly delayed them. Thankfully, it was swiftly dealt with, and the bandits were exerminated without much trouble.
Looking ahead with a sense of contentment, Tristan couldn't deny that despite Lord Thaddeus's perfectionist tendencies, he was a competent leader. The knights stationed at Shadowcliff Keep, the fortress they were heading to, were known for being the best in this region after all fighting against an evil otherworldy invasion with the objective of slaughtering everyone in their world was no small feat.
"What are you thinking about, Tristan?" the older knight initiated a conversation, noticing Tristan lost in thought as he dispatched a squad of light cavalrymen to check on each wagon.
"Not much, just expressing gratitude to Aurelius for our safe journey so far. I offered a prayer before we departed, asking for his protection over our convoy, and it seems to have worked," Tristan replied with a smile.
Hearing this, the older knight snorted and chuckled. "Are you some kind of devout believer? If so, perhaps you should have pursued becoming a paladin. Once you participate in the defense of the fortress, you'll see whether Aurelius truly answers prayers or not."
Tristan remained silent, choosing not to engage with the older knight's cynicism. However, the older knight seemed undeterred, continuing his rant with a hint of madness and anger in his eyes.
"Where was Aurelius when my brothers in arms had their limbs torn off by those demonic creatures? Where was he when they were striped and cruxified in front of our defensive positions as a provocation?? We're here because of our strength, not some prayer. Remember that, boy... remember that."
Tristan stayed silent, he was taken aback by the sudden outburst of the older knight. 'Clearly suffering from some sort of PTSD,' he thought to himself. 'While I worried about the consequences of insulting Lord Thaddeus, this guy calmly blasphemes, I better seperate from him when we reach the fortress.' Tristan prepared himself for the future, he didn't come here to be associated with unstable soldiers, he came here for glory.
"Do you understand, Tristan?" the older knight asked fearing Tristan was ignoring his wise rant.
"Hmm? Yes, I understand," Tristan replied, hoping to end the conversation.
"Good. You may think I'm a fool, but you'll understand when we reach Shado-"
Before the older knight could finish his sentence, a black arrow flew straight at his head.
As he was turned to address Tristan, his guard was dropped, and the arrow easily pierced through his skull, from the back of his head and exiting through one of his eyes. In a split second, his head exploded into pieces, leaving Tristan splattered with the older knight's blood and brain parts.
Tristan was frozen and stunned by the sudden turn of events, the crunching sound that the older knight's head made while it was penetrated by the arrow stayed in Tristan's head on repeat like a loop.
While Tristan stood frozen in the face of the unfolding events, time marched inexorably forward. The instant the arrow pierced the older knight's head, torrents of arrows descended upon the infantrymen entrusted with safeguarding the carriages.
The arrows were unleashed from the top of towering trees flanking the poorly constructed road where the convoy was. Atop these trees, small green creatures holding bows and crossbows could be seen, most of them had the height of a 10 year old, they unleashed a barrage of arrows on the infantrymen. Once their task was completed, they descended swiftly from the treetops, launching a surprise assault on the infantrymen, who were plunged into disarray and chaos.
As the army of little green men charged the infantrymen who were trying to organize themselves, one carriage driver quickly recognized the creatures and in pure disgust screamed
"GOBLINS!!!"
The scream worked in breaking Tristan from his frozen shock. He takes out his greatsword and charges a group of charging goblins.
The goblins were not only coming from the trees but also from tunnels that were dug near the road. Cleary, this ambush was planned in advance. The volley of arrows managed to kill a dozen or so infantrymen while the rest had enough time to form themselves in groups of twos and threes.With their backs against the carriages and spears poised, they took on the charging goblins that were coming from all sides.
The goblins were armed with small swords; some looked new and sharp, while others appeared worn down and fragile, as if they would break with a single strike.
The goblins screamed at the top of their lungs, saliva and spit could be seen going everywhere. Once they were close enough to the infantrymen, they threw themselves at them, not caring about the spears standing in front of them. Some goblins were pierced right through by the spears; others were agile enough to maneuver themselves around the spears to stab their enemies to death.
One goblin managed exactly that, and once he was close enough to the shocked soldier who was not expecting this, the goblin stabbed him right in the groin, making the soldier drop his spear and shriek in pure pain. A soldier who was standing next to his shrieking brother-in-arms dropped his spear, which had pierced two goblins right in the head, and took out his sword to avenge his fellow soldier.
However, this brought his end, as one agile goblin jumped right on top of the enraged soldier's head and pierced both his eyes with his sharp claws. The soldier dropped to the floor, rolling in pain while screaming, "My eyes! My eyes!" Dozens of other goblins swarmed the defenseless, rolling body and started to feast on it.
Events like this were happening everywhere on the besieged convoy. Yet, despite the numerical superiority that the goblins had, the racial superiority that the humans possessed gave them an advantage and balanced things out. One tall infantryman, who was around 195cm tall and over a 100kg ( of muscles ) was swinging a one-sided axe like a madman.
In one swing, he took out multiple goblins at once, blood and guts covering his body. However, this did not hinder the axeman's performance, instead, it made his bloodlust rise. While maniacally laughing, he took the corpse of a goblin and hurled it at the goblins in front of him, enraging them.
Humans looked down on goblins. They were a racially inferior species and from the dark faction. To be killed by such an inferior being was seen as humiliating. This motivated the humans to fight as brutally as possible to avoid tarnishing their honor and disgracing their ancestors.
The battle raged on, the cavalrymen ruthlessly dispatched any goblins in their path, one horse had the head of a decapitated goblin in his mouth. Even the carriage drivers, driven by desperation, joined the fray, wielding whatever makeshift weapon they could find. Meanwhile, Tristan, who had single-handedly killed over twenty goblins, gave orders at his men once he saw the chaos unfolding.
"Regroup at the center of the convoy!" his voice echoed above the din of combat.
The soldiers swiftly complied, converging towards the heart of the convoy. The rear of the convoy bore the brunt of the goblin onslaught, most of the soldiers there were already dead, screams could be heard coming from there as some of them were being eaten alive. Yet, despite their agony, the retreating soldiers were powerless to aid their fallen comrades as they made their way towards the center.
Amidst the chaos, the towering axeman continued his relentless slaughter, heedless of Tristan's command. The sound of a horn eachoimg throughout the battlefield was also ignored by him, the axeman paid it no heed, as he was consumed by his own bloodlust.
Amidst his relentless massacre, the towering axeman abruptly halted, a perplexed frown creasing his brow. Casting a wary gaze around, he voiced his bewilderment aloud.
"Why is it dark all of a sudden, and why are these disgusting goblins running away from me?"
Before he could further contemplate these unsettling developments, a low rumble reverberated behind him. Whirling around to confront the source of the disturbance, he froze in his tracks, his gaze fixated in horror at what stood before him.
What the—" The axeman's exclamation was cut short as a massive rock hurtled from above, pulverizing his body into a grotesque heap of flesh and bone. His skull and torso were reduced to an unrecognizable mass under the crushing weight of the boulder.
Tristan and the other soldiers, transfixed by the gruesome demise of the axeman, halted in their tracks. The spectacle was impossible to ignore, drawing their gaze despite the chaos unfolding around them. In their moment of distraction, a lone retreating soldier was engulfed by a swarm of goblins, yet none of the onlookers spared him a second thought.
Tristan, once again frozen, in shock and this time also by fear whispered to himself.
"Trolls."