Winter's Crown: Act 5, Chapter 11
Winter's Crown: Act 5, Chapter 11
Winter's Crown: Act 5, Chapter 11
Chapter 11
Avod and the other Hobgoblins returned to the camp shortly after the column from the northwest started to arrive. At least five dozen Goblins accompanied her, carrying game animals, crudely crafted tools, and various other odds and ends. He peered back and forth between the group crossing the river and the goblins smoking the racks of meat – how did they go from four Hobgoblins to seventy Hobgoblins and Goblins in a single day?
Eyeing the throng behind Qrs spreading out to organize themselves into camps, Avod approached him with Zrol at her side while the others went to tend to their newly caught game.
“I figured you’d be spending more time packing things up,” she said. “Was gonna greet you with a whole bunch of new friends.”
“Having more time would have been nice,” Qrs replied, “but Jaldabaoth’s minions had other ideas.”
“How bad was it?” Avod asked. “Well, I guess it couldn’t have been that bad judging by how your lot looks.”
“Not too bad,” Qrs agreed, “but we couldn’t stay like that. It looks like his forces are spread thin, and they’re still trying to catch us to stick into cages. The attacks stopped when dawn broke…speaking of which, do you know anything about Fiends and daylight?”
“Beats me,” Avod shrugged. “Before all this, the most I saw was an Imp being summoned by some idiot. If they only attack at night, then maybe I’ll get to see what’s been harassing you before I get going.”
The thin sound of hunting horns wavered over the evening air, warning of approaching trouble. Qrs shot Avod a look, and she raised her hands in front of herself disarmingly.
“Well, you got your wish,” he said. “If you want that first-hand look, get your people ready to defend the perimeter.”
“The Gobs are still raw, so they’ll be useless,” Avod said, “but I’ll still have a look myself. Actually, since I have you here: were you able to pack up any spare equipment? Aside from this nice little knife from the prison camp, we’ve been making do with sharpened sticks and flint knives for the last few days – the tribes in the east don’t seem to have much.”
“What do you need?”
“Hmm…if those Goblins we’ve picked up so far are any indication, we won’t need any magical equipment to do our thing out there. Bows, big shields, spears and something to bash things with for me and my men – armour if you have it as well.”
“I hope you don’t intend to just give all that away,” Rholh’s voice sounded from behind him.
“Uh…maybe?” Qrs avoided looking at her as she stepped up to them, “We’ve been through at least three different kinds of hell.”
Rholh rolled her eyes and pushed him out of the way.
“A full kit of war gear,” she said. “Warbow, tower shield, steel spear and morning star. Chainmail, greaves, bracers, gauntlets and helmet. All steel. Dwarven make. Not enchanted. Our boots should fit you as well.”
“I’m listening…” Avod said.
“Each set for 4000 kilograms of game – doesn’t matter what it’s from, as long as it isn’t poisonous or gone bad. You don’t have to pay upfront, and I wager you’ll have more than enough once you start fanning out with all your Goblins.”
“How much of this equipment do you have?”
“Our food stores were low with this timing, so we ended up bringing everything else instead. There should be plenty to spare for the time being.”
Avod took all of one breath to consider Rholh’s offer.
“You have a deal,” she told her. “We need four sets – I will call my men.”
The Hobgoblin captain turned away and headed towards her own fires. Qrs glanced at Rholh.
“We’re going to be eating Goblin for months,” she told him. “Everything besides that is going to be a delicacy.”
“I won’t disagree,” Qrs replied, “but can we afford to part with that equipment?”
“What, you don’t think the Dark Dwarves will pop up one of these days?” Rholh snorted, “Those grubby little profiteers can smell business from across the whole wilderness. I’d be surprised if they didn’t show up within a week or two. For being the High Chieftain, you stink when it comes to negotiations like this.”
“Probably because I’m used to negotiating with a weapon,” Qrs grunted.
The horns sounded a second time, much closer than the last. Qrs cleared his throat.
“Speaking of which,” he said, “I need to see to the defence. Signal says fifteen minutes.”
“Don’t get yourself killed – we’ve still got a long way to go.”
Qrs hefted his weapon and trotted up in the direction of the still-incoming tribespeople. Their defensive lines were more compact now with the people gathering on the riverbank; makeshift barricades and loose earthworks already appearing along the perimeter.
“Qrs!”
Bowge’s voice called out to him from further to the rear of the column. It took him several moments to spot the female chief.
“Did something happen?” He asked.
“Nothing yet,” she answered, “but are we really stopping here?”
“We are,” Qrs replied. “We left yesterday evening, so most of our people have been awake for over a day and a half now. Our warriors and hunters would be able to keep going, but we’ve got the entire tribe with us. On top of that, we need to collect what provisions we can before crossing the river. Setting up camp while we’re being attacked does feel off, but that’s what we’ll have to do. At least you’ll be able to wash up after this, eh?”
The horns sounded again, a few minutes away.
“By the sound of it,” Qrs noted, “there’s nothing new. We should take this chance to get our camp set up while everything is nice and manageable.”
“The defenders are going to need rest at some point,” Bowge said.
“We’ll see what it’s like – the rest of the villagers need time to prepare, anyways. If nothing new pops up, we should be able to split into decently long watches.”
“Guess I should find a nice spot to dig in, then.”
“Don’t get too comfortable: they added those new things partway through last night – they might do the same again.”
The hunters on sentry duty started appearing out of the trees. Qrs reached out to stop one.
“Nothing different?”
“Not that I could see,” she shook her head. “We were even able to knock a few of those bug things out of the sky on the way in.”
“That’s great,” he clapped the huntress on the shoulder, sending her on her way.
Over the course of the previous night, the incoming Fiends had gone from unsettling and alien to something they were starting to measure in familiar terms. They were able to kill them in close combat, and many of the tribe’s hunters were strong enough to take down the airborne opponents with javelins. If their opponents’ tactics remained the same as the previous night, things would be much easier now that they were fighting in a defensive position with few trees to obscure flying enemies.
He found Rhag and the tribal elders in a large pavilion just behind what appeared to be the defensive line. Rather than having all of the elders of every village gather, it appeared that there was a representative for each. Several runners were gathered nearby to convey instructions. The chiefs were not present, so he assumed they had gone off to oversee their warriors.
“Chief,” Rhag said as he approached, “you have a lot of questions waiting for you.”
Qrs figured as much. With the chaos of the day settling, the people needed direction beyond being told which way to run. He suspected he would not be able to participate in any of the fighting for the night.
“Let’s do this in order, then,” he said. “Anything critical that needs to be looked at?”
“Nothing immediate,” Rhag replied. “But we have much to organize before the night is over…we are staying here for a time, yes?”
“As long as they let us,” Qrs nodded. “Did we get a real count of our people? What are our numbers looking like?”
“The elders have all reported in,” Rhag told him. “All of the tribes are missing people: mostly those who were out living in the forests when the attacks started. The villagers have nearly all made it – of the villages that showed up at all, anyways. In total, we have about 7000 here with us.”
Qrs frowned inwardly. Half of the villages had escaped, and only half of each village’s total number. The majority of their hunters came from the family groups that lived outside of the main settlements, putting them at a disadvantage when it came to those who could expertly forage and hunt for food. Village residents were primarily warriors, mystics and tradespeople who depended at least in part on those same hunters they now lacked.
The clash of Hellhounds against the defensive line turned several heads, but Qrs was too deep in thought to pay it any mind.
“We’re lopsided,” he said, “we don’t have enough hunters to adequately feed the tribes while we run. How can we fix this?”
“Fix this…” an elder said, “it’s not something so simple that we can ‘fix this’. Hunters do not sprout up overnight like Goblins.”
“Then why don’t we substitute our missing hunters with our new allies?” Rhag asked.
Most of the elders displayed looks of confusion over her suggestion.
“New allies?” One of them asked, “What new allies?”
“The Gnoll tribes to the north are joining us,” Qrs told them, “we have Hobgoblins that are starting to do their thing as well. There’s a handful of Armat, but I have no idea what they can offer. I’m not sure if the runners had time to explain, but that’s what it looks like right now.”
“How did this happen?” The elder furrowed his brow, “We’re more likely to fight these ‘allies’ than work together with them. It’s unheard of since the time of the Demon Gods.”
“There’s a Demon God out there right now,” Qrs pointed westward, “one far stronger than what the legends tell. That’s why they’ve agreed to band together. Our greatest chance of survival depends on us all working together to escape the reach of Jaldabaoth. We’ll take anyone who will join us to improve our odds.”
“Demon God? Jaldabaoth?”
Rhag cleared her throat to the side.
“Maybe you should explain from the beginning, Chief.”
Qrs scanned the confused faces of many of the tribal representatives. He took a deep breath and related his experience since the winter. Though he summarized it as briefly as he thought reasonable, it still took a half-hour. By the end of it, however, the faces of the elders were all pale and grim. Even so, Qrs still felt that his words were insufficient to convey just how dire the threat was.
“This…this tale is filled with madness,” a shaky voice rose over the murmurs of the assembly. “We could flee for the rest of our lives and still not escape one so powerful as you describe. Never mind escaping – if he is not stopped, the world is doomed!”
“That may be the case,” Qrs said, “but I will not so readily consign our people to that fate. We will run and survive until those who can stand against him manage to end the reign of this ‘Demon Emperor’, or until the world is consumed by his madness. That is what we must do – the alternative is the hell I left behind.”
The sounds of battle issued from the lines again, and Qrs folded his arms.
“Enough time has been spent on this explanation,” he told them. “Rhag – what were you saying about our allies?”
“It should be easy enough to understand,” Rhag replied. “We have plenty of idle tradespeople. Gnolls are natural hunters, and the Goblin army will be hungry for our goods. We’re crossing The Neck – so we’re going to be up to our ears in Goblins, Bugbears and everything else that comes with them by the time we get through.”
The elders turned to one another, discussing her proposal. Qrs had a vague idea of what Rhag was trying to convey, but he wasn’t sure if they could do what she proposed.
“So you’re saying that our villagers should service our allies in the place of our missing hunters.”
“That’s right.”
“I can see how some of that might be possible,” Qrs said, “but what about our tradespeople that left their shops behind? We’ll be on the move for as long as Jaldabaoth continues to hound us.”
“The tradespeople should have brought all the hard-to-replace tools from their shops with them,” one of the elders told him. “Even the smiths will have brought their anvils and bellows. We’ll just need to create portable facilities that can be packed up and carried along whenever we travel from one place to the next.”
“So rather than hunting and foraging,” Qrs muttered, “we will be crafting and bartering.”
“Yes, Chieftain.”
“What about our warriors and what’s left of our hunters?”
“They can pull their weight if the situation demands it,” the elder said, “but I suspect they will be ensuring that our tradespeople are safe and secure. Not only can these Fiends fly and drop in wherever they wish, but I also have no illusion that the relationship with our allies will be perfectly benign. Scuffles within our encampment will be sure to arise, at least.”
Qrs couldn’t refute what appeared to be the most practical direction for their tribes. Rather than try to eke out a living on their own while they slowly raised new hunters, they would be acting like the Dark Dwarves and bartering their limited crafts and services. The Goblins living in the region were known to be simple and lacking in artifice, so there was little concern over whether the idea would work as long as a Goblin army was raised as they expected.
This assumed a working relationship with their allies, of course. He wasn’t sure how it would take shape exactly: only that everyone shared the same driving motivation.
“I’ll have to speak with our allies about this first,” Qrs said, “but go ahead and start preparing – we’ll be needing to do it for ourselves anyway. Anything else that we need to cover?”
“Coordination for the villages is being left to their respective leaders,” Rhag said. “We just need you to settle the big decisions…I know it’s not really up to our side of things, but how long do you think we’ll be able to stay here? Even some loose expectations will be able to help with planning.”
“If the pressure on us at night remains like this, well, we’ll want to wait at least as long as it takes the Gnolls to arrive. They move a lot faster than we do, so I’d say around three or four days before they come in and we can expect to leave.”
The clamour from the defensive line drifted over to the pavilion again, reminding Qrs how ludicrous making such an estimate was. They were only a day away from where they had started, yet now they had to stop and prepare. If they were allowed the leisure to do so, then so would their unseen adversaries ordering the waves of attacks against them. He was not so naïve to imagine that they would simply let them resupply, recover and leave without making new moves of their own.