Chapter 27
Bumpy, or Mosquito Wood, as it was also called, greeted us with a greenish twilight, alive with the chorus of many birds. The air was damp from the recent rains. Fine droplets covered the dense undergrowth, hanging like crystal beads on spiderwebs.
We walked in silence, following a narrow path deeper into the forest. Dirk the Huntsman led the way, with Liandra and me behind him, and the others bringing up the rear. After marching along the dusty or muddy roads of the Empire, the slow stroll under the canopy of trees felt like a pleasant rest.
I did not particularly strain myself trying to watch and listen. I had six professional Huntsmen with me, plus one Elf. Their perception was certainly better than mine, and they possessed valuable experience.
Soon, we turned off the human path onto a barely visible animal trail. Occasionally, I could spot wolf and fox tracks, slightly resembling those of a dog. Green fruit hung on the wild apple trees, and after the recent rains, a wealth of mushrooms had pushed their caps up from the undergrowth. Hazelnut bushes were scattered about. It turned out to be a genuinely pleasant forest, despite both of its names being fully justified. There were plenty of mosquitoes, and we often had to clamber over small mounds with moss-covered roots sticking out.
A few times, the Huntsmen noticed small woven figurines hanging from trees in particularly scenic spots. The men bowed to them. These were clearly not symbols of the Dark Gods, but markers of the forest belonging to Taal, the patron of the wild. Amber Wizards revere him with particular fervor.
For about an hour, we quietly made our way into the depths of the forest until the sound of rustling bushes and undergrowth reached our ears. Something large was moving toward us.
The Huntsmen spread out, preparing to shoot. Liandra slowly and silently drew her hand-and-a-half sword from its sheath. I merely rested my hand on the hilt.
The noise drew closer. Soon, a large silhouette covered in brown fur could be distinguished between the branches. A bear. It was a shame Magg wasn't nearby. He would certainly have been happy. It would be best for me not to engage a bear in close combat, but I thought Liandra could handle it. She had defeated a Chaos dog-fucker, and this was just a regular bear... or was it unusual?
When the beast stepped out to face us, we could see its muzzle was smeared with black blood. The bear wasn't particularly large. Young, perhaps. The Huntsmen raised their bows, but the senior one gestured for them not to shoot. He had noticed something, and so had I. A leather strap with some kind of amulet hung around the beast's neck. A symbol of an arrow could be seen on it. It seemed this sign marked the Amber Order. Wild Mages who wield the Wind of Ghur.
The bear let out a low growl and flicked its head behind it.
— Is that our Shaman? — I asked.
— Probably not, — Dirk replied. — But the beast will lead us to her.
The Huntsman guessed the bear's intention. It turned and slowly walked away, frequently looking back, as if checking whether we were following.
— It's wounded, — Liandra whispered to me.
Indeed, I noticed several broken arrows sticking out of the bear's flank.
Hmm. It seemed this lumbering beast was not just the sorceress's messenger. It was calling us to her aid.
— Shall we follow it? — I suggested.
The detachment silently followed the animal. The bear hurried ahead, then paused briefly to wait for us. When we got closer, we could hear the animal's loud, rapid breathing. It seemed to be quite seriously wounded. Even my eye, which was not particularly trained for navigating green tracts, occasionally spotted drops of blood on the grass and bushes.
I even had a thought to suggest that Liandra treat the animal's wounds, but then decided the beast was in a hurry. Perhaps its mistress was in mortal danger.
The forest gradually became less wild. We began to see small trails and signs of recent human presence. It seemed we had passed through the thicket. As we approached the edge of the forest, I smelled smoke. I very much doubted it was a picnic bonfire set by local peasants. I slowly drew my sword from its sheath. Its weight gave me a pleasant sense of confidence.
The trees ahead parted. The forest ended, revealing a view of a red glow and thick smoke rising into the sky. A spacious field next to a fortified village was burning.
Well, well... Olger Hawk wanted us to pass through the forest and scout what was happening on the other side? Done. What's happening here is a disaster.
The village was about seven hundred yards from the forest. No enemies were visible yet. The gates of the fortifications were flung open and seemed to have been torn from their hinges by some monstrous force.
— Oh, yeah... — one of the Huntsmen murmured meaningfully, watching the blaze.
The bear looked at us expressively. Its eyes, I thought, were full of suffering and grief. Then the beast headed toward the village. The screams of terror and pleas of the people could be heard from that direction. I was hit by a flood of memories of the ruined village where I first woke up in my new body.
The Huntsmen checked their weapons and set off after the beast, but Liandra lingered. I looked at her questioningly. The Elf swiftly removed her cloak and rolled it into a bundle. Then the girl began rolling up her sleeves to the elbow. Having prepared for battle in this manner, the Elf approached me, leaned close to my ear, and said in Eltharin:
— I will try to protect you, Gill, but if I realise we cannot handle it, I will give the signal, and you must run. Promise me. In that case, I will hold the enemy and try to catch up with you later, if I survive myself.
— Alright, — I nodded, impressed by how much she cared about my life.
Pleasant, damn it. All those times I'd dripped the essence of my eloquence into her ears were not in vain.
We followed the Huntsmen and our lumbering guide. Anxiety grew in me as we approached the village. The screams grew louder. Among them, we could distinguish the roar of some beasts and the crash with which the invaders were breaking into homes.
We reached almost to the gates. This village was noticeably larger than the one where I had found myself after rebirth. It would have grown into a small town soon. No such luck. Even if some residents survived, the consequences of the pogrom would be felt for years to come.
The gates were genuinely torn off their hinges and partially smashed. Heavy logs were splintered.
The first enemies awaited us right behind the gates. And again, it was a pity Magg wasn't with us. Greenies!
It was a pair of Goblins, unlike those that had previously fallen by my hand and settled in my stomach. About my height, dressed in dirty, but quite richly decorated robes with fur trimming. Tall, spiked helmets were on their heads. Hobgoblins. No doubt about it.
— Human slaves? — the one on the left shrieked.
— Human enemies! — the one on the right replied, raising his composite bow.
I covered myself with the shield, expecting an arrow, but it did not come. The Hobgoblin on the left suddenly drew a long curved knife and, while his comrade was aiming at us, stabbed him in the neck. Dark green blood gushed out in a thick stream.
— Enemies! — the Hobgoblin roared, shaking the bloody knife. — Enemies killed Garz!
However, the Hobgoblin didn't get to enjoy the successful liquidation of his competitor. He deftly lunged away from the shots of a pair of Huntsmen, but a thrown dagger from Liandra and a crossbow bolt struck the Greenie. I hurried to him. I had to manage to absorb at least a little vital force. To get a starting boost of frenzy before the coming battle. And I had no doubt a large-scale battle was coming. Goblins rarely walk in small numbers.
The bear was the first to rush into the village. The beast broke into a light run. It was clearly in a hurry. We followed it, finding ourselves on the main street of the settlement. On both sides stood sturdy, almost city-like houses without gardens. I liked this place more than accursed Friedrichsburg. Even during the Hobgoblin raid, it seemed cleaner and better maintained than that wretched town.
The central street led us to the main square of the settlement. A spacious, trampled circle with a wooden platform in the center. Previously, important people probably delivered speeches there, but now a trio of Hobgoblins in scaled armor and fur-trimmed helmets were giving instructions to the rest of the raiders.
Captured people huddled near the platform. Women cried, trying to shield small children, whom the Hobgoblins were trying to drag out of the crowd with whips.
Skarsnik's Night Goblins would have staged a horrific slaughter here, but these Greenies served the Dawi-Zharr. The industrial Empire of Zharr-Naggrund required workers chained in shackles. Therefore, the Hobgoblins were not planning to kill all the prisoners. However, children, the elderly, and pregnant women were both a burden and a potential snack for the Goblins. The raiders were trying to separate their victims from the crowd. Some had already been taken.
I could see about two dozen Wolves tearing at human remains, ripping them to shreds right near the Sigmarite Temple.
However, the rest of the terrified peasants tried to protect the others, shielding them in the center of their mass, protecting them with their shoulders and backs from the grasping claws of the green cannibals.
The Goblins immediately shifted their attention to us. There were about twenty of them, just like the Wolves. They were armed and equipped noticeably better than the cave runts. Bows, curved sabres, identical round shields, jagged spears, helmets, and other pieces of armor.
The largest of them was a one-eyed hunchback with a red tail sticking out of his helmet. He looked at us with a squint and smoked a peculiar-looking metal pipe.
— Well, well, — he wheezed, scratching a long scar on his nose with the tip of a claw. — What guests have come to us. I killed many, many humans. Today I will kill more.
He spoke Reikspiel noticeably better than the Night Goblins.
— And I have killed many, many greenskins. Today I will kill more, — I replied.
The first drops of frenzy gave me strength and confidence.
The Hobgoblin laughed hoarsely.
— Not like us, human with a sword, — he declared, knocking the burning embers out of his pipe and hanging it on his belt. — We are taller, stronger, smarter, and braver than our uncouth kin. While we ride on Wolves across the endless steppes, they eat Squig shit.
Right. They eat it and ask for seconds. And the Hobgoblin continued to preach:
— We have cool bows and all sorts of other stuff. Even Orcs are envious of us.
I wonder if the Orcs themselves know about that?
While we were talking, both sides prepared for battle. The Huntsmen stretched into a line, and Liandra stepped slightly forward, holding her hand-and-a-half sword in her right and clenching a throwing knife in her left. On my other side was the bear, which let out a low, guttural growl. The Hobgoblins took an arrow from their quivers.
— We are cultured, you see? Civilized! If you don't want to be pierced, put on a show for us. Fight among yourselves. We'll let the survivors go. Boss Uchuk's honest word.
Two friends were walking home on a night road
Suddenly bandits came out of the forest in a whole crowd...
No way. Believing a Hobgoblin's words was absolute foolishness. It was time to start the fight before the frenzy evaporated from me.
— Go! — I shouted to Liandra.
The Elf immediately threw her knife, aiming for the Hobgoblin leader, but he managed to shift slightly. The knife embedded itself near his cheekbone, not in his eye. An arrow from one of the Huntsmen bounced off the scale armor, and another flew past, as the leader was not standing still.
Jumping forward, he folded the fingers of his left paw in a special way and, putting them in his mouth, let out a piercing whistle. A wolf howl echoed him. Dozens of healthy, fanged beasts in the square turned their muzzles, smeared with fresh blood, toward us.
Some of the Wolves rushed to attack, while others dashed to their riders, also summoned by the whistle. A similar division was observed among the Hobgoblins. Half tried to mount the toothed steeds, and the others immediately started shooting at us. The Hobgoblins made a clever movement, scraping the arrow tip against their belt buckle. Fire immediately flashed, giving off thick black smoke. The arrowheads were soaked with some special flammable compound. Probably a gift from their bearded masters.
— Back! — Dirk commanded his Huntsmen.
The men, having released their arrows, immediately retreated to the street we had come from. The relatively narrow passage should prevent the enemy from fully exploiting their numerical superiority.
The Hobgoblins shot accurately. Remembering Max's advice, I tried my best to cover my entire profile with my shield. I squatted slightly, leaned forward, and lowered my head. It was a good thing I remembered the Sergeant's advice. Something immediately hit the shield. The sharp smell of flammable filth tickled my nostrils.
I saw the arrow tip sticking out of the shield, still smouldering. What nasty stuff! The Chaos Dwarfs' napalm burns even after impact. I didn't want to catch such arrows in my flesh. But one of the Huntsmen was not so lucky. I heard a muffled cry nearby. It was immediately drowned out by the roar of the long-suffering bear. The Hobgoblins didn't spare their arrows on him either.
Liandra performed another incredible trick, deflecting a couple of arrows fired at her with the flat of her sword. Her agility and reaction speed were simply off the charts.
Immediately after the volley, a pack of riderless Wolves lunged at us. That was good. If everything had devolved into a shootout, I wouldn't have been able to use my frenzy in combat.
There was someone else very furious in our detachment. The bear rushed at the Wolves with a roar. The pain from the fire arrows seemed to awaken new strength in it. The bear's wounds smoked. A terrible smell of burnt fur and burning fat accompanied the furious beast. With the very first strike of its paw, it literally crushed one of the Wolves. It broke its spine, forcing the once-ferocious predator to crawl, whimpering, on its front paws.
I joined the fight, trying to cover the bear's flank. A Wolf, almost the size of a pony, immediately leaped at me. The brute wanted to grab my throat or face.
A step back, left leg forward, bracing, covering with the shield, and...
The impact almost knocked me off my feet, but I managed to stand firm. The beast's claws scraped the surface of the shield. Its teeth snapped somewhere near my head, slightly grazing the dome of my helmet.
I immediately countered with a thrust. The lunge was quite accurate but hit bone somewhere. The Wolf growled, spraying bloody foam. Painful? This was just the beginning.
Another piece of advice from Max was the appeal to always stay vigilant. To concentrate not only on the opponent but to save at least a pinch of attention for controlling the situation around me. This now saved me from a very unpleasant encounter with a fire arrow. The main Hobgoblin was trying to reach me right over the back of the Wolf. I managed to tilt my head, taking the arrow on the dome of my shield. The metal held, although my ears rang. There was probably a dent left.
In fact, I was somewhat lucky that these Greenies had fire arrows. The moment they lit them could be easily noticed even with peripheral vision. If the Goblin had shot a regular arrow at me, he probably would have hit.
As a countermeasure to these aggressive actions, I stabbed the Wolf again. The brute jumped back, preparing for a new lunge.
This time, I was ready. A little more frenzy splashed at the bottom of the bloody chalice, but I desperately wanted more!
Raising my shield higher and bracing myself better against the ground, I rotated my body slightly from left to right. The Wolf jumped. I shot a thrust to meet it, simultaneously presenting the shield.
Impact!
I barely managed to hold onto the sword, which was embedded in the Wolf's body. This time, instead of a growl, I heard a whimper. I yanked the sword from the wound in the monster's neck and, pushing the Wolf away with the shield, cut at its side. I aimed to sever its throat and was partially successful.
I immediately had to cover up, taking another arrow on the shield.
However, the surviving Huntsmen did not leave the enemy fire unanswered. Trying to take cover behind the nearest houses, the forest infantry sent arrow after arrow toward the greenskin archers.
While I was wrestling with one Wolf, Liandra had cut down three, and the bear had broken two more. The very thinned-out pack rushed away, tails tucked. However, this was by no means the end.
A dozen Hobgoblins mounted their Wolves, and now this fanged cavalry circled the village square, conducting a shooting attack.
Liandra continued to block the arrows, but it was hardly easy for her. Several projectiles grazed the Elf when she deflected them at too risky an angle.
The Hobgoblins had no intention of engaging us in close combat, and chasing Wolf Riders on foot was a completely thankless task. Chase one, and you would immediately be shot in the back by another.
I was about to suggest that the Huntsmen take cover in a house, but then we gained unexpected allies. The crowd of prisoners swayed. Several dozen men and even women rushed from there at two wounded, foot Hobgoblins. Those who had been hit by the Huntsmen's arrows could not offer decent resistance. The captives seized their gear: sabres, shields, and bows.
Although the peasants were poor fighting units, they distracted the enemies and prevented them from maneuvering so easily. Moreover, the Hobgoblins seemed to prioritize these unfortunates over us, probably sensing easy prey in them. The Goblin instinct kicked in—strike the weak, and preferably in the back.
The wounded bear immediately bolted with all its paws to maul the raiders. Catching one of the Wolf Riders as he was about to shoot at the prisoners, the beast lunged at the greenskin, crushing both the rider and his steed, tearing their flesh with long claws.
I rushed forward toward the nearest foot Hobgoblin. I tried to attack his flank, but the Greenie also monitored the situation around him with peripheral vision and noticed me. He initially wanted to shoot but realized he was too late. I was already too close. The Hobgoblin threw down his bow and drew a curved sabre. In the greenskin's left hand was a round shield.
The Hobgoblin attacked me with almost Orcish frenzy. Swinging his sabre actively, he delivered blow after blow. Right, left, right, left. That might have worked against me once, but I fenced much better now, and the magical frenzy had already filled a quarter of the chalice.
Choosing my moment, I shifted aside, simultaneously slashing the Hobgoblin across his armed hand, which he was swinging so actively. The stump of one of his fingers fell to the ground, and another hung on a thin strip of skin.
The Hobgoblin shrieked, and I, controlling his weapon with my shield, swept the greenskin's left leg. All that remained was to finish him off. The enemy tried to cover himself with his shield and hands, but I bypassed these protective measures with a thrust to the neck. More enemy blood, more of my frenzy.
The Hobgoblins, in terms of their combat characteristics, indeed surpassed other greenskin riff-raff. However, having lost six of their own, they began to show signs of panic. They shot less, screamed more, and tried to leave the square. It seemed that what followed would just be a beating of the terrified Goblins, but a bulky, broad figure with spikes sticking out everywhere emerged from the Temple of Sigmar. They adorned his shoulder pads and high helmet. A black beard fell to his belt. Curved tusks stood out on his swarthy face with a hooked nose.
— What is all this commotion, you contemptible servants? — the Chaos Dwarf asked strictly, surveying the square.
And here the local boss has arrived...