Eryndor and his band of goblin warriors crept back into Elysia Forest under the cover of darkness. Grimp, familiar with the layout, led the way through the shadows. They moved swiftly and silently, avoiding detection by the elven guards.
As they approached the slave encampment, Eryndor's anger grew. Before him lay rows of rusty cages, each filled with goblins. They huddled together, their eyes sunken, their skin pale and clammy. Malnutrition and mistreatment had taken its toll.
With a quiet nod, Eryndor ordered his warriors to get to work. They moved from cage to cage, expertly picking locks and freeing the captives. The slaves blinked in confusion, unsure of what was happening.
Grimp helped guide the freed goblins away from the cages, urging them to move quietly. Eryndor watched as his people stumbled out of their prisons, some needing support from their fellow goblins.
Just as the last cage was opened, a figure emerged from the darkness. An elf, whip coiled in his hand, strode toward the cages. His eyes scanned the area, and his gaze landed on Eryndor.
For a moment, the elf froze. Then, his face twisted in rage, and he raised the alarm. "Intruders!" he shouted, his voice piercing the night air. "Sound the alarm! We have goblin raiders!"
The sudden clamor shattered the stillness. Horns blared, and elven guards rushed toward the encampment. Eryndor knew their window for escape was closing.
"Move, now!" Eryndor barked at his warriors. "Get our people out of here!"
The goblin warriors swiftly formed a protective ring around the freed slaves. Eryndor drew his sword, ready to face the oncoming elven guards. Grimp stood at his side, a fierce glint in his eye.
As the elves closed in, Eryndor steeled himself for battle. Their escape would not be easy, but he vowed to protect the goblins. He was once an army commander, and now he is a goblin clans chief, he must not fail here.
Eryndor's eyes scanned the horizon, his gaze locking onto the approaching Elven guards. He turned to Grimp, his voice low and urgent. "Grimp, take half of our warriors and lead the slaves to safety. We can't let them fall into Elven hands again."
Grimp's face twisted in protest. "But, Chief, we can't leave you to face them alone.."
Eryndor's tone brooked no argument. "That's an order from your Chief. Go, lead our kin to safety. I will hold them back and buy you enough time, then I will catch up to you."
Grimp's hesitation lingered, but he knew better than to defy Eryndor's command. With a curt nod, he turned and began selecting the goblin warriors to accompany him. The chosen ones fell into formation, surrounding the frail-looking goblin slaves.
As Grimp prepared to depart, he cast a concerned glance at Eryndor. "Be careful, Chief. We'll be waiting for you."
Eryndor's expression remained resolute. "I'll be right behind you. Go!"
With a final nod, Grimp led the group away from the impending battle, disappearing into the shadows. The remaining goblin warriors formed a tight circle around Eryndor, their eyes fixed on the approaching Elven guards.
Eryndor drew his sword which was now battered due to the fight with the orcs, its metal gleaming in the fading light. "Let's show them the ferocity of the goblin clans," he growled, his warriors responding with a chorus of battle cries.
As the Elven guards closed in, Eryndor steeled himself for the fight ahead, his mind focused on buying Grimp and the slaves enough time to escape. The clash of steel on steel was imminent, and Eryndor was ready to face it head-on.
As Eryndor raised his sword to the sky, the air around him seemed to ignite with anticipation. With a swift motion, he cast the flaming sword spell, and his blade erupted into a fiery blaze. The flames danced along the length of the sword, casting flickering shadows on the walls of the cavern.
The goblin warriors behind him let out a battle cry, their eyes gleaming with excitement. They charged forward, eager to follow their leader into the fray. Eryndor, with his flaming sword at the forefront, led the charge.
Before them, a wave of Elven guards swept into the cavern, their slender forms moving with deadly precision. Their silver armor glinted in the firelight, and their bows sang as they loosed arrows at the oncoming horde.
The goblin warriors scrambled to avoid the hail of arrows, but Eryndor pressed forward, his flaming sword slicing through the shafts as if they were mere twigs. The Elves closed in, their agile forms weaving between the goblins' clumsy attacks.
Elven guards darted left and right, their swords flashing in swift arcs. The goblins stumbled backward, their crude blades struggling to find purchase against the Elves' impenetrable defense. But Eryndor waded into the fray, his flaming sword carving a bloody path through the Elven ranks.
With each swing, his blade bit deep, its flames igniting the Elves' armor and hair. The scent of charred flesh and smoldering fabric filled the air, and the Elves' cries of pain echoed off the cavern walls.
An Elven guard lunged at Eryndor, dagger flashing in the firelight. But Eryndor parried the blow with ease, his flaming sword rippling with intensity. The Elf stumbled back, and Eryndor seized the opening, striking true. The Elf crumpled, his armor scorched and smoldering.
To Eryndor's left, a goblin warrior fell, an Elven arrow lodged in his chest. But the goblin's death cry was drowned out by the roar of battle, as Eryndor pressed forward, his flaming sword slicing through the Elves with deadly precision.
An Elf leapt onto a nearby boulder, loosing arrow after arrow at Eryndor. But the human warrior dodged and weaved, his sword flashing upward to deflect each shaft. The Elf's quiver emptied, he drew his sword, leaping from the boulder with a graceful cry.
Eryndor met him mid-air, their blades clashing in a shower of sparks. The Elf's agility was no match for Eryndor's brute strength, and the human's flaming sword sent the Elf tumbling to the ground.
As the battle raged on, the cavern grew thick with smoke and chaos. Goblins and Elves clashed, their cries echoing off the walls. Eryndor stood at the heart of the maelstrom, his flaming sword blazing like a beacon of destruction.
The Elves began to falter, their numbers dwindling beneath Eryndor's relentless onslaught. The goblin warriors, emboldened by their leader's triumphs, pressed forward with renewed ferocity.
The tide of battle shifted, and the Elves found themselves on the brink of collapse. Eryndor's flaming sword rose and fell, each blow striking true, as the cavern echoed with the Elves' despairing cries.
Eryndor surveyed the carnage before him, his gaze falling upon the battered remnants of his goblin warriors. Of the twenty he had left to hold the line, only eight stood, their twisted bodies bearing the scars of the brutal battle. The elfish archers had taken their toll, and the goblin leader knew it was time to regroup.
"Fall back!" Eryndor bellowed, his voice echoing through the blood-soaked terrain. "We will not press our luck further!"
The surviving goblins needed no urging, stumbling backward as they retreated from the elfish lines. Eryndor watched with a calculating gaze, ensuring his warriors made it safely back through the winding mountain paths.
As they vanished into the rocky terrain, the elven forces hesitated, their confidence shaken by the ferocity of the goblin resistance. Their commanders conferred in hushed tones, weighing the risks of pursuing Eryndor's forces into the treacherous mountains.
"We've lost too many already," one of the elven commanders argued. "The goblins know these paths like the back of their hand. We'd be walking into a trap."
The others nodded in agreement, and the elven army held their position, unwilling to venture further into the unforgiving mountains. Eryndor's tactical retreat had bought his people a temporary reprieve, but the goblin leader knew the elves would not be deterred for long.
As the goblins disappeared into the mountains, Eryndor's mind turned to the next phase of their defense. He would need to regroup, reassess, and plan anew if his people were to survive the coming storm.
The battered goblin warriors trudged through the winding paths, their footsteps echoing off the cold stone. They knew they had bought their people a brief respite, but at what cost? The elves would return, and next time, Eryndor's forces might not be so fortunate.
The goblin leader's eyes narrowed, his mind burning with determination. He would not rest until his people were safe, and the elves were driven back from their borders. The war was far from over, and Eryndor was only just beginning to unleash his full fury.