Blood Ties

The massive creature shook itself like a dog, flinging clods of mud and shale scattering in all directions. It was half again larger than an ox with a squat frame, thickly muscled legs, interlocking armored plates from its head to its hindquarters, and a massive curved horn sprouting from the end of its snout. It had no eyes that Morwyn could see, but didn't seem to need them to navigate the broken earth. The thing let out a guttural, snorting grunt and lashed its head sideways into the belly of the upturned wagon, its horn shattering timber and crushing metal.

Morwyn barely noticed as Trux rushed past her to grab Yvonne's belt and haul her back inside the shelter and she didn't hear anything that either of them shouted at her. Her eyes were locked on the beast as it loosed another grumbling roar and stomped its heavy forelimbs on the ground in a challenge. Several black arrows struck the creature in the side as the goblins too responded to the new threat, though the creature didn't seem to notice as they shattered or skipped off its armored hide. The small volley of arrows ceased and she watched as the few remaining goblin archers scattered into the rubble of the mountainside and disappear.

Her heart sinking, Morwyn raised her longsword in both hands and flooded it with a rush of blue frost as she prepared to meet an anticipated charge.

Just as the monster took its first lumbering steps in her direction to gain momentum, Argoth crashed into its side with his shoulder and caused it to stumble sideways and flail its horn in confusion. The orc followed up with a savage overhand slash to the base of its thick neck with his falchion, an attack that Morwyn knew would have cleaved even a giant in half. When it struck its armor plates, however, even Argoth's vicious shadow blade was turned with a shower of black and green sparks. The beast recovered and retaliated with a heavy, sweeping blow of its horn that sent Argoth tumbling along the ground, though the orc was on his feet in an instant with a new blade materializing in his hands.

“Help Eronir!” he ordered, a manic grin showing off his bloody tusks. “Leave this beauty to me!”

Spurred to action by Argoth's command, Morwyn dashed off to the right to do as he bid. She found Eronir and the others lined up between two of the wagons squaring off with a mass of goblins that warbled and gurgled nervously amongst themselves a dozen paces away. Eronir held the center of the fragile line, bleeding from a number of shallow cuts and his spear dripping with gore. She ran up on his right as the remaining civilian defenders gave her a wide berth, several eyeing her azure blade nervously while others cheered and shouted curses at the goblins with renewed vigor.

“What's happening? Why have they backed off?” Morwyn hissed to Eronir as she glared at their enemy, hungry to put them to the sword now that she was close enough to see the splashes of red blood dripping off of their crude weapons. There was a twisted, tangled pile of bodies where the skirmish line had clashed, but she couldn't make out any of their folk amongst the dead.

“They broke contact when they heard the rhino mole emerge,” Eronir replied steadily, his stance firm as he swept his spear back and forth toward the goblins. “I think they fear it more than they fear us, and with good reason.”

Judging by the stomping, thrashing, and the eerie screeching of Argoth's blade against the creature's hide behind them, Morwyn was inclined to believe him. When she noticed several goblins take tentative steps forward she nearly rushed to meet them when Eronir blocked her way with the shaft of his spear.

“No! Stay in line. There are too many, you'll be swarmed. Take the right flank. We need to make a careful retreat.”

Morwyn glared daggers at the elf but did as she was told, sidestepping until she was at the far right of the line as the elf did the same toward the left. She ached to unleash the fury of her magic against the goblins, needed to feel her blade rend them but Eronir's calm authority kept her in check, if only just.

The civilians between them hefted their weapons and glanced nervously between the caravan guards and their enemies as they waited for instruction. Gildur stood to her left, a sledgehammer splattered with blood held aloft in his thick arms. He gave her a broad smile made horrific by the deep gash that ran from his forehead to his chin along the side of his face. George, pale and also bloodied, wielded a woodcutting axe in one shaking hand and a battered barrel lid for a shield in the other on the far side of the smith.

“Listen!” Eronir called out to the nervous defenders, his voice rising above the din of Argoth's fierce battle. “On my signal we will retreat as one back toward the shelter. With each call, take two steps back and only two. Do not turn! Do not run! We will hold this line, gods help us, or we will be overrun. We'll form a half-circle around the entrance and protect the others at all costs. Do you all understand?”

A chorus of agreement rose from the meager group. The goblins, apparently sensing their intention, looked as if they were about to surge forward. Eronir feinted a sweeping lunge that kept them at bay for a moment. Clearly they had met the steel of his spear and rightly knew to fear it. He glanced to Morwyn at the end of the line, eyeing her sword then looking up to meet her gaze for the first time since she'd come to their aid. His brow furrowed but he gave her a curt nod.

“If they flank us before we can reform the line at the shelter... have at them.”

Morwyn nodded, her gaze returning to the gaggle of cackling and warbling goblins. Eronir drew in a deep breath and called out his command to begin their movement. Their line moved back, unsteadily at first, some taking more than two steps, others slipping on the unsteady, wet ground. The goblins matched their retreat by moving forward the same distance in a roiling wave. They shied from the direction where Argoth fought the rhino mole but also seemed emboldened by the retreat of their outnumbered prey.

Morwyn's heart thundered in her chest, though she was no longer afraid. Fury swept aside her fear in a tidal wave. These creatures had hurt and killed the ones she was sworn to protect, the people she now cared for so dearly, and she wanted make them suffer for it. Each time the line moved back, wheeling toward the entrance of the shelter, she grew increasingly frustrated as the frost now flooded out from her center strained to escape her control. Her sword pulsed and hummed with energy and her breath fogged the night air as the rain that fell around her flash-froze and clattered to the ground as hail.

They were halfway back to the shelter when Morwyn once again saw Argoth and the rhino mole in her peripheral vision to her left. She glanced in their direction and saw the massive orc had both hands on the monster's horn as he attempted to wrestle control of its head and keep it from impaling him. Every now and then it lifted him fully off the ground as it thrashed and whirled like a crazed bull but Argoth held on with relentless strength, his muscles bulging as he snarled and threw his weight around in return.

Seeing that the creature they feared was otherwise engaged, the goblins rushed forward with a riot of shouting and clashing iron to try and cut off the defenders and flood the gap before they could close around the entrance of the stone shelter. Sensing her opportunity Morwyn rushed to meet them with a war cry of her own, desperate to loose the hungry magic that threatened to overwhelm her senses.

Before she could meet her enemies with the first lethal arc of her sword, a massive, echoing boom shook the earth as a brilliant flash of golden lightning struck the northern peak far above the mountain pass, followed in quick succession by several more explosions as a variety of colors lit up the heavy clouds in brief but violent bursts of light. The pouring rain that had so doggedly plagued Morwyn's existence suddenly lessened from a downpour to a light drizzle as continued explosions clapped like thunder with irregular rhythm in the distance.

The goblins before her slowed their mad dash and looked around in utter confusion, but Morwyn was already committed to hers beyond hesitation.

Her blade flashed through the first goblin as if it weren't there, its body cleaved in half from shoulder to hip in a burst of iron shards and entrails. She lashed out furiously at any of the creatures within her reach, killing three more before they recovered and pushed forward to try and swarm around her. She whirled her blade about in sweeping arcs as she'd seen Argoth do at Whitewater Crossing, though instead of fending off their attacks, she slashed through their crude shields and weapons raised in weak attempts to parry. Their cries of pain and fear, which once might have turned her stomach, brought her a barbaric euphoria as she cut them down.

Though they were not elegant combatants, the goblins were cunning and quick despite the burden of their patchwork iron armor. Despite her best efforts and the mounting pile of bodies strewn around her, several landed blows with their swords or their spears before they were slain. She grunted with pain as her legs, unprotected by armor, were dealt shallow cuts and glancing thrusts. Brought back to her senses by the peril of her circumstance, she began to fight more defensively as she staggered backwards toward her allies.

“She's close enough! Push forward, keep them off her!”

Morwyn heard Eronir's shout over the screaming of goblins and the fury of combat. Her right shoulder bumped into the wall of the shelter just as Gildur rushed to her side, bringing his hammer down with crushing vengeance on the helm of a goblin about to thrust a dagger into her side. He roared in anger and laid about him with his improvised weapon, breaking limbs and cracking armor with each swing. Others joined him as the line flexed outward and crashed into the goblins, checking their rush and holding the small vicious creatures at bay.

A firm yank on her belt pulled Morwyn backwards away from the line. She saw Gildur and George quickly shift to take her place at the corner when she stumbled back, but the frenzy of her magic made her whirl around to engage a new threat. Hazel, her face gaunt and splattered with blood yet still hardened with resolve, released her belt and thrust a potion vial into Morwyn's hand just as her well of frost finally, blessedly, and unfortunately ran dry.

“Drink this before you bleed out!” she urged, releasing her hold on the vial. Morwyn fumbled it for a moment but gained a hold before it could fall to the ground and held it back out to the healer. The sudden cessation of her channeling made Morwyn's head spin and her body feel hollow, but she was still standing.

“I'm fine! Give it to someone else-”

“You are not bloody fine!” Hazel shouted as she gestured wildly toward Morwyn's wounded legs. “Don't argue with me, just take it!”

Morwyn glanced down at herself and grew dizzy for a moment as she saw the broken haft of a goblin spear impaled entirely through her left calf. Pain exploded through her leg and nearly brought her to her knees as Hazel gripped the spear with both hands and looked up to her. Morwyn clumsily uncorked the potion and nodded, gritting her teeth.

Hazel yanked the spear through with a gush of blood as Morwyn gasped in shock. She wobbled on unsteady legs for a second while her blood gushed out before she downed the potion, dribbling some of it down her chin as she did so. She shook her head to clear it and blinked rapidly as the excruciating pain dulled and the wound began to close. She met Hazel's gaze and gave her a grateful nod, then the halfling dashed back to tend to her other patients.

Morwyn quickly turned her attention back to their line. Several members from the caravan who had earlier taken cover in the shelter had picked up fallen weapons and joined in the desperate defense. Curved daggers flashed as Trux tore into the goblin ranks. Yvonne's bow thrummed, her heavy shafts slamming into the goblins at near point-blank range as she stood just behind the line and loosed through gaps between their allies. Morwyn couldn't find a good place to rejoin the line as they were tightly packed and getting pushed back with each passing moment. Their size, reach, and tightly packed formation led by Eronir were the only advantages they had over the swarming goblins.

Desperate for anything to change their circumstance, Morwyn looked beyond the line to see how Argoth was faring. Now that the rain had lessened she could clearly see the beast that he fought was bleeding from a dozen shallow wounds while the orc once again wielded his blade of shadows, though his movements were sluggish. Her heart skipped a beat as the rhino mole's horn got caught beneath his sash and flung Argoth high into the air. His arms flailed uselessly as the orc plummeted back down toward another brutal upswing of the creature's horn. Just as the tip punched through his blackened chest plate, Argoth vanished in a swirl of black mist.

“Eronir, the beast!” Morwyn shouted over the din of battle as she rushed up behind him. “Argoth's gone!”

Without a word, Eronir yanked his spear from the neck of a gurgling goblin and thrust the butt onto the ground, using it as a brace to vault clear over the dwindling ranks of the enemy line. Morwyn lurched forward and began to hack and thrust into the goblins that tried to exploit the brief gap in his absence.

Eronir ran several yards beyond the line of goblins directly toward the creature, shouting to get its attention as he did so. The rhino mole, confused by the absence of its foe, rounded on the new threat and bounded into a charge. With astonishing grace that Morwyn had only ever seen demonstrated by the elvish folk, Eronir slid from a run into a crouch as he braced the butt of his spear against a swell of solid stone that protruded through the loose shale.

The long, broad spearhead dipped and glanced off the monster's lower jaw before impacting its unarmored breastbone, the momentum of its charge driving the spear through its thick hide and deep into its torso. The aggressive wings below the head of the spear caught against its chest and the haft bowed dangerously as Eronir grimaced and fought to keep it anchored. Though the spear miraculously held, the wound wasn't deep enough to be immediately fatal and the rhino mole bellowed in fury, its horn swinging dangerously close to Eronir's face.

A swirl of black shadows materialized above the creature as Argoth popped back into existence. He landed on its back with a look of immense surprise and grabbed onto an armor plate to avoid being thrown off as it reared. The orc raised his right hand high and a massive black war hammer with a violent red aura formed in his hand, which he brought down a roar top of the creature's head with several savage blows. The wicked armor-piercing spike punched through the thick plated skull and thick blood sprayed from each grievous wound. The rhino mole crashed to the ground, throwing Argoth to one side as it flailed in death throes while Eronir fought to free his spear from its thrashing bulk.

Morwyn's arms were half numb from the jarring impact of her sword striking metal and flesh and bone now that her magic had faded, but with each thrust and slash and strike of her pommel the line of goblins grew ever more thin. She fell into a daze as her gory blade rose and fell again and again, hacking away at the foul creatures before her. She lost track of how many she killed and was only dimly aware when her allies fell back with bloody gashes or severed hands or worse.

Time did not exist in that awful place on the razor's edge between life and death, shoulder to shoulder with untrained yet courageous combatants in a desperate fight for their lives. It was only when the remaining goblins finally broke and scattered off into the night in a disorganized mess that Morwyn became dimly aware of anything beyond the ringing in her ears and the burning pain in her lungs and muscles. She heaved for breath, staring at the mound of corpses in front of their defensive line with numb detachment.

She'd faced death before and had dealt it herself many times, but with the sheer spectacle of the butchery in front of her it almost didn't seem real anymore, like she'd said a word over and over again and it lost all meaning for a time. It turned her stomach and fascinated her at the same time. Her gaze lingered on the decapitated head of a goblin that had rolled free from its crude helm and rested against the toe of her boot, its cruel face still twisted in a defiant snarl. She kicked it away but it rolled back into place against her toe, so she let it be.

*I am grateful for you, dear one. You have saved many lives tonight.*

Rennock's voice in her mind made Morwyn flinch so hard that she nearly fell over. She looked up quickly, her eyes desperately searching about for the old wizard. He limped out of the darkness and into the ring of artificial white illumination cast by Argoth's light stone, his face bloodied and his robes scorched and tattered. Morwyn's instincts screamed at her to rush to him, to embrace him, to cry from joy or pain or loss or fear, but she couldn't seem to make her limbs work. She stared numbly at him as he shuffled painfully toward the group to muted cheers that she could barely register.

Would they have been in this much danger if I weren't here?

*You cannot blame yourself. None of this is your fault, only that of our enemy.*

The words were reassuring, but the moment of hesitation before his response told her all that she needed to know. Tears flowed freely down her cheeks, carving trails of sorrow through the mud and blood that was splattered across her face. Her sword fell from her limp hand with a clang as it struck the ground, casting droplets of bloody water into the air. She was empty, hollow, a shell of herself as she stared at the old wizard.

A small hand laced its fingers between hers, ignoring the dripping gore as it squeezed her tightly. Morwyn looked down and her lip quivered to see the look of disassociated shock on Hazel's face.

“I need...” Hazel gagged, then spit on the ground and wiped blood from her face that clearly wasn't her own. “I need your help... We have so many wounded...”

The golden spark within her center fluttered in response, reminding Morwyn that even within the depths of what felt like an empty void, she still had more to give. She nodded slowly and tightened her grip on Hazel as her hands began to glow.