You could reach out and feel the tension gently flowing through the air.
No one dared move an inch.
Silence permeated the air.
Emotions of all types could be seen in the faces of different rats. Some showed eager excitement, some looked grim, and some barely showed any emotions at all.
The goblins shifted back and forth seemingly dreading the eventual clash.
Fear could be seen in the eyes of many of the goblins on the frontlines. Some stared up at their clan leader advisory wishing they had been put somewhere else.
Brrrrrrrrr
The horn went.
Like a loaded crossbow, more than the horde of fur and steel began sprinting forward.
The meeting place was a calm, pristine little area of subtle green grass accentuated with the gentle glow reflecting the flowers which stuck out from the dirt.
For a place where death will soon permeate it had a succinct serenity to it in the moments before the clash.
We had waited behind. Our job was to attack after the battle had already begun and then attempt to pen in and surround the goblin horde.
Thankfully it was not just our little cohort which was in charge of this. Nearly 5000 troops had been left behind to attack either flank.
We were just a minor part of this.
I watched from our vantage point as arrows rained down on the charging rats. It was a horrifying visage. A rain of pure fire.
Like an eagle swooping down for its prey. The arrows began to close in on their targets before...
"Shield"
A voice permeated the air.
Where once was air now stood a deep blue shield. Some of the arrows flew straight through the shield creating a shatter at the spot they hit. Thuds and cries could be heard as rats went down.
However, half the arrows hung suspended in the air before being harmlessly clattering off their blue advisory.
It was a sight to behold. A sky full of fire extinguished by a mighty blue shield.
Looking more carefully I saw the cause of the shield. Lorath had his large staff raised to the skies. The blue orb which he had previously had in his sceptre now seemed to be disintegrating in front of his very eyes.
Lorath is stronger than I was led to believe.
It didn't seem like a simple feat to block that many arrows.
Eventually, the storm of fire subsided and the shield dissipated back into the air. Lorath fell to the ground seemingly talking to those around him through muffled and quick breaths.
The already fearful goblins now had grim faces. The arrows were most likely their major trap but now that they had failed it was only around 100 metres which split them and a horde of angry rats.
100 metres became 50.
50 became 25.
"Trick"
One word.
Echoed through the sky above like a whisper gently slipping into my ear.
For a second time seemed to stop completely. Itch who stood ahead of me wore a traumatising expression.
Where the front line of goblins once stood now lay a chasm. From my position, I could only guess what lay at the bottom of that endless-looking void.
Behind the ravine stood a wall of iron. Goblins armoured to the teeth with shiny armour and long spears stood wait at the other side.
The once weak frontline had become a death trap.
The rats desperately tried to stop but the momentum carried them forward. Rats further behind had not yet realised the situations they were now in and pushed forward gently shoving the front line forward.
The various lords of the clan managed to stop in their tracks. Most were too big for the pushing of the rats behind to impact them too much.
Rats began to fall. One by one they dropped into the void. Their screams only spurred on the rats behind who most likely assumed they were the horrified screams of goblins they were cutting through.
I stood, paralyzed in shock. Itch looked stumped. Attacking the flanks now would be suicide. Without the front lines, our around 5,000-strong army would be crushed.
So we just watched as the clan lords desperately pulled their troops to stop moving forward. It took 20 excruciating seconds before finally the horde stopped moving.
I couldn't guess how many rats had died in that accursed void. A thousand, 5 thousand, 10 thousand. It could have been any number. A cursed realisation seemed to hit Itch at that moment.
"Goblins kings"
I heard him mutter under his breath.
The realisation finally hit me as well. So this was the power of a characteristic. This is what Lorath had spoken off.
The goblins had used our eager and miscalculated charge to set up a trap.
The armoured goblins began to lower their spears and stab across the void. Screams began to ring out again as rats were impaled on skewers.
Finally, a stomping could be heard as the clan leaders made their moves.
The red baron stormed through the army of rats and took off on one foot.
The gap seemed small compared to his hulking body. Landing on the other side I saw a familiar scene. One that I had already viewed in that first ambush. The hulking arms of the rat slammed through steel and flesh, blood splattering on the surrounding goblins. As if to follow his cue several other lords began bridging or jumping the gap.
9 rats took centre stage tearing through the goblins.
Itch also decided it was time for us to make our move. We moved in, far quicker than the main horde could manage to flank around the right side.
It took no more than 30 seconds before we came within close distance.
I took a deep breath before clashing heavily with the first goblin.
The sound of metal against metal rang out as screams of both goblin and rat began to radiate.
The goblin I clashed with held a short sword seemingly deemed for stabbing.
I was equipped with nothing but my claws.
In this short of a space, my sword felt burdensome trying to swing without hitting the rats around me.
I valued the freedom my claws provided.
My curved claws into the goblin's arm as I yanked its weapon out of the way.
Fear captured the goblin before I sunk deep into its throat discarding it and moving on.
It felt almost dreamlike. The monotony of death and blood seemed endless. The occasional goblin would dig its weapon its my armour causing a light slash or stab wound however I would repay it with a quick claw to the throat or digging my teeth into its flesh.
Itch called this way of fighting animalistic. I called it effective.
It had no time to judge how the others were doing. Eventually, the lines began to spread out more and the once-organised battle sprang into a more spread-out fight. Our lack of numbers began to show. Goblins ganged up on rats ripping them to shreds or taking multiple jabs at them.
Finally drawing my swords I whirled through goblin after goblin. Trying to make up for our lack of numbers I dispatched as many as I could.
Fatigue began to rack my body. The horde of green and grey seemed almost endless. For every one I killed two replaced it.
Looking around I saw thassius desperately fending off 4 goblins trying to curve beneath his armour.
Twig and Sniffer stood back to back against 5 goblins.
Finally, Itch took a similar approach to me, nimbly weaving between goblins taking efficient and small cuts and eaches throat before swiftly moving on. He was almost rhythmical in his movements like a dancer.
I could not be distracted for long. My trail of blood continued as I desperately cut through more and more of the endless layers of goblins.
Suddenly a sharp pain seemed to rack my feeble fatigued mind. Staring down I saw the tip of a spear jabbed through a gap in my armour. Using my sword I sliced down at the wooden shaft snapping it in two before shambling backwards. The pain engulfed my mind.
Shit.
My vision began to blur.
I fingered the wound seeming to feel almost no pain.
Finally, two strong hands seemed to grab me from behind and drag me backwards. I looked up to see Thassius's helmet staring back at me.
The darkness finally filled my vision.
Just before I fell into the world of the unconscious one word seemed to reverberate through the scene.
"Devour"