Chapter 2: A Tide of Green
It took a full day for the warband to reach the tower and the better part of an hour for the chief to position his warriors for the assault. Night had fallen by this time and the chief assembled his most seasoned warriors for a strategy meeting. One proposed that maybe a small group could sneak in first, see where the wizard was, and if he had any traps. This warrior reasoned that hopefully this small group could break in and stab the wizard dead before he even knew his home was under attack.
The goblin chief Gulgripp responded with a hard no. He realized that while a stealth attack would be a good idea, it also meant that the group part of this attack force would get the first crack at finding any of the wizard's treasures.
Gulgrip thought he would die first before he let some measly grunt find something good before he did. Hell, he realized that he likely would die if he let this happen; what if one of the warriors found a better weapon than his sword? The fool would likely get his head filled with ambition and bad ideas and would challenge Gulgrip for the position of tribe chieftain.
The chief shot that idea down quickly, stating that wizards don't sleep and would have magic alarms that would alert him even to the stealthiest shadow. The warrior argued back, asking how the chief could possibly know this and Gulgrip silenced him by flashing his sword, the menacing pitted iron glowing a dull red as it reacted to the chief's anger and irritation.
"Magic is dangerous." The chief said, glaring at the warriors surrounding him. "Magic will defeat fools, find those that hide in shadow and burn their bodies, tear their minds apart." He was lying outright, Gulgrip had no real idea what the wizard could do, but his words had the effect he wanted. The other goblins were afraid of the wizard and were genuinely afraid of magic. What the chief said simply stirred their fears.
He smiled as he saw their fears, as with that, the chief had a thought. "Don't worry." he said, his voice tone confident. "Despite his magic, the wizard couldn't possibly have any that could defeat such a force of goblins."
"One hundred spears, swords and axes." He said as he stalked around his warriors, "Wolf riders, archers. The wizard has magic but magic can't protect him completely."
One by one, the warriors' faces began to light up. Gulgrip smiled as he continued his speech.
"Victory belongs to the brave, to the ones willing to run forward and kill their enemies. The wizard is strong, the wizard has magic. But magic is all the wizard has."
"We have no magic but we are a warband. We are many. We are strong together, and together, we are stronger than the wizard!"
His warriors cheered, roaring their agreement to the chief's words. Gulgrip smiled as he felt their loyalty, and how now they would rush the wizard's tower for him.
He demanded the warband ready itself, dictating to the band leaders to drive their units straight in a charge at the tower.
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The goblin assault thus began and almost immediately it went disastrously wrong.
The wizard protected his home with magic and the goblins leading the charge took the full brunt of the arrayed magical defenses. The tower had iron rods inserted along its conical roof and these spat fire and lightning at the oncoming horde, lighting up the darkness of the night. Dozens of goblins died the instant they crossed into the tower's defense threshold and dozens more died as they reached the tower itself. Warded with glyphs, the first goblins to touch the tower's door and walls felt their bodies burn as lightning arced from the stone and into their bodies. The unfortunate next wave behind them felt that lightning then arc to their bodies, the electricity bursting their hearts and boiling their blood.
T'rrk barely survived the rush forward. Tripping halfway to the tower wall, T'rrk fell and just barely missed the fireball that would have reduced him to a black spot of soot. The goblins behind him shrieked as they were caught in the fiery blast and his heart pounding like a drum, T'rrk let his fear power his limbs as he scuttled towards the tower wall.
Screams filled the air along with the scent of smoke and cooked goblin flesh as the tower continued its barrage of magic. However, like Gulgrip said, the wizard's magic had its limits. Slowly, the barrage began to slow, the magic in the iron rods and in the wall glyphs fading as whatever powered them began to dry up. More and more goblins began reaching the tower and at last, a few intrepid (or overexited) warriors threw their spears and shattered several windows, providing an opening.
One hobgoblin even came lumbering forward. Clad in heavy chainmail stolen from a dead adventurer, it began chopping at the tower door with a wicked-looking axe. Splinters flew from the old wood as the massive goblin began carving it down to nothing.
His fear faded as the thought of victory again resurfaced in his head, T'rrk crept forward and made his way to a broken window. Pulling himself inside, the goblin clumsily tripped over a broken table and immediately linked up with another group of goblins. They all smiled as he approached, swords and spears held out. Victory was within reach and all there was left to do was to kill the wizard.
The tower's door caved in not long after, the hobgoblin finally chopping his way through the wood. The hulking creature roared as it kicked the remains of the door to splinters, leading another handful of goblins armed with spears as it breached the tower threshold.
The hobgoblin managed to take one step inside the tower when the room lit up painfully bright. Shrieks of pain followed and T'rrk instinctively dove back behind the shattered table, the fear back in his heart.
"Filthy, primitive, savage vermin!" a voice roared. As his vision returned T'rrk peeked out of cover to see the wizard standing from the tower staircase, hands held out. Goblin bodies filled the room, the warriors who just stormed in fried, their corpses smoking. The hobgoblin, T'rrk saw, was miraculously still standing, though one hand held tight against the doorframe to help keep it on its feet. The chainmail around its chest was melted, the metal around it blackened and fused to the hulking creature's skin.
"YOU DARE ATTACK MY HOME?!!" The wizard roared as magic again built up, gathering down his arms and coalescing in his hands, lightning dancing around his fingertips. "YOU DARE INVADE MY SANCTUM?!!"
Though hurt, the hobgoblin roared back at the wizard in wordless challenge and rushed forward. Bringing its axe down to bear on the human, the hobgoblin moved with speed that belied its size. For a moment T'rrk thought this was it, the killing blow that would end this swamp magician. He felt his hands tighten on his sword hilt and wondered if he could somehow get in on the kill and claim some of the glory for himself.
He saw a look of annoyance flash on the wizard's face just before T'rrk could jump out of cover. A glimmering shell of blue magic came to being at the moment the axe connected.
The resulting burst of light blinded T'rrk as he hid back behind the broken table. The hobgoblin, while dazed, was not blinded and prepared to swing again, only to find that the magic that protected the wizard had completely shattered the axe's iron head. A look of surprise and disbelief twisted the hulking goblin's face and the wizard, a look of superiority and contempt on his, held out a palm directly as his enemy's chest.
The torrent of flame that erupted from the wizard instantly reduced the hobgoblin to ash, the creature barely able to react as magical fire ate away at his flesh and reduced his bones to char. T'rrk saw this and felt his jaw tighten and his muscles shake. His heart beat in his chest painfully fast as fear filled his mind. The goblin held his breath, afraid that the wizard might hear, deathly afraid that the wizard might set him ablaze.
That's when he saw the latch just beneath where he hid and found the trapdoor.
By the time the next wave of goblin warriors stormed the tower, T'rrk had pulled the door open and had hurried inside.
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"Wretched, fucking, swamp rats…" Jeran seethed. His home was a mess, every floor of his meager three storey tower violated by these primitive savages with their spears and arrows. The cleanup alone will take hours and worse, the fucking savages destroyed items the wizard held dear, items from his past that were at present irreplaceable.
He thundered down the stairs, his tea and biscuits falling to the carpeted floor of his bedroom as he rushed towards the commotion. He was surprised to find an entire goblin army out there, storming his tower. Even more surprising was how they didn't opt to send in smaller kill squads to sneak in first, opting instead to hurl as many bodies against his tower defenses.
He saw the first of them come in through the ground floor windows, followed shortly by a big one who smashed through his door and led more of the little green vermin inside. Jeran made short work of these little shits, his magic frying the goblins with flame and lightning. The big one held on slightly better, somehow surviving a bolt of lightning straight through his chest and rushing Jeran his axe.
Jeran rewarded this one by breaking his weapon and incinerating him up close.
More goblins came, rushing in through the windows and the smashed door. The wizard grit his teeth, snarled, and let the rage in his heart loose. Magic danced from his fingertips and fueled by his wrath, Jeran recklessly sent bolts and bursts of lightning and flame, ending goblin lives as quickly as they broke into his tower.
And still, despite this massacre, despite the smell of burning flesh and smoke, more goblins came in. They rushed at him brandishing stolen swords and daggers and axes, wielding bone spears and firing stone-tipped arrows. Jeran realized they meant to overwhelm him, to find a chink in his magical defenses.
He would disappoint them, for the wizard had none.
His magical shield caught and turned every stab, slash, every arrow shot and spear thrown. He would let the goblins see this, see their attacks bounce off ineffectively, allowing them a moment to consider their position before waving his hand and sending the wretches all to hell in a torrent of flame. War cries became shrieks of pain in the tower and the wizard exterminated the intruders, allowing burnt goblin corpses to build up around his windows and doors.
"Bring your worst!" Jeran yelled as he incinerated the last group of goblins storming into his tower. "Bring your entire horde through my home! I'll see every last one you burned to ashes!!" His heart was racing, sweat ran down his neck and brow. The constant casting was exhausting, and while he was loathe to admit it, the strain was starting to make him weak. He fought to keep his posture, fought to keep his legs from buckling.
By this time, the goblins rushing into his home were slowing down. Jeran sucked in a deep, grateful breath as he hoped that the horde's numbers were finally thinning. Casting a blast of flame to rid his front door of a trio of goblins armed with wooden sticks, Jeran made his way outside.
His lawn was a battlefield, craters and goblin bodies littered everywhere and stopping only at the treeline and the swamp. Several goblins had gathered in groups, building their numbers as they waited for more to come from the treeline. They were more than a little surprised when they saw Jeran and more than half ran, what passed for courage in their wretched little hearts rapidly dissipating when they caught sight of him. He sent three orbs of force their way, the magical missiles streaking like shooting stars, outright killing the three goblins they hit.
Those that stayed yelled and roared. As one, they converged on the wizard, weapons drawn.
Jeran grit his teeth. He was exhausted and his body felt too heavy, his stamina and strength sapped from heavy combat casting. He couldn't cast a fireball, at least not right now.
He was also far from helpless.
He reached into his robe and pulled out a small, black cube. Jeran regretted having to use this now but he had little choice. Raising the item, the wizard tightened his grip, causing the black cube to shatter.
The result was a magical blast of red-colored energy that swept across a good twenty feet from the wizard. Every goblin caught in the blast were stopped dead in their tracks, their bodies suddenly losing color as they rapidly rotted into dust and bone. The wizard meanwhile felt the opposite; every goblin slain when he deployed the artifact's magic restored strength and stamina into his body, replenishing and rejuvenating Jeran as if he had just rested.
"Bloody waste, that was." He said as he let the crushed remains of the black cube fall from his hand. "Was hoping to use that when I finally stormed Kaila's tower. It was bloody fucking hard to create too."
Arrows suddenly rained from the sky, but that was of no consequence. Most fell away from the wizard, with the few that did hit harmlessly bouncing off the protective shell from Jeran's spell he had cast when he first entered combat. Turning to the darkness beyond his home, Jeran let out a sharp, irritated breath. He had use another artifact.
He reached for an item inside his robes, this time pulling out a rough cut green gem. As Jeran began whispering words of power, the gem began to glow, a bright green ember growing into a steady flame inside. Completing the words, the wizard then threw the gem towards the treeline, the glowing crystal falling short and shattering as it hit the ground.
The power inside was released and green flame surged outward, licking the sky as and painting the night with its light. The flames then coalesced, taking the shape of a large, spectral wolf.
"Hunt down my enemies." Jeran commanded. "Kill every last one and then you may go free."
The spectral wolf, eyes blazing green, howled and bounded into the forest. It rushed straight towards the line of goblin archers hiding in the shrubs and behind the trees. Arrows flew, harmlessly passing through the spectral creature and not long after, another series of screams and shrieks filled the night sky.
The wizard smiled. The hunting spirit took weeks to coax out of the astral sea and took a lot of preparation to imprison in the crystal gem. Writing the symbols of control around its gem took additional days of careful work. It was a waste to use it on such lowly creatures and Jeran had some difficulty convincing himself that this was the right call.
He took a deep breath as he watched the bound spirit light up the darkness of the forest beyond, unstoppable as it tore apart the goblins that hid there. "At least it would serve its purpose." Jeran said softly, "To protect me and my home from my enemies."
He saw goblin shadows flit about as his spectral wolf hunted them down, hearing their cries of fear, panic, and pain as they found that they could not fight this creature with their weapons. He heard the goblin word "flee" echo a few times and smiled.
"It's too late to flee." Jeran announced loudly. He took a deep breath, stretching his arms and rolling his shoulders, working his muscles to push the fatigue from his body. He wondered how many of these vermin would try and rush him, thinking killing him might stop the wolf. Jeran thought the answer would be pretty close to zero as arrows and spears continued to rain on his position, the few that managed to actually hit him were easily deflected by his shield spell.
"Too late to flee…" Jeran said again, more quietly this time as he stalked the perimeter of his tower, intent on exterminating the rest of intruders.
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T'rrk steadied his breathing, forcing himself to calm as he surveyed where he was. The door he bolted into had a big room behind it, one with lots of stuff. There was a cauldron and a firepit at the center of the room, and there were shelves and boxes and crates filled with all sorts of stuff. Some of them smelled pretty good, like something tasty. Tempted as he was though, T'rrk was at least smart enough to not try and eat anything in the wizard's tower.
After gathering as much courage as he could muster, T'rrk began to search the room. The room was pitch black but that wasn't a problem for T'rrk, his kind could see in the dark. As he paced the room he saw the books and bottles on the shelves, as well as strange tools he didn't recognize neatly arranged near a large table. He realized that he must be where the wizard worked his magic, possibly even create magic weapons and items. He got excited at the thought and as careful as he could manage, began prodding around for something he hoped he could use.
He began by climbing up a stack of crates, inspecting several bottles filled with strange colorful liquids, powders, and one even had what looked like a dried bug. T'rrk wasn't sure what these did or if they were magic or not but he thought they at least might be of some value to the chief or if not, the clan shaman. He wasn't brave enough to pop the seal off one and even sniff what was inside so he went and stuffed them in the small leather satchel he had on. The goblin then rummaged around the crates, finding what looked like ingredients for soup; mushrooms, roots, powders, and bits of metal and stone.
That made him hungry but he didn't have time to make soup. There was also nothing that looked magical in those crates and nothing at all that might seem valuable or useful.
He searched the other shelves, peering around the books and scrolls. Unable to read, T'rrk couldn't see any value in the leather bound tomes and rolled parchments. He gave up after he found nothing else on those shelves.
That left the table at the end of the room and the first thing T'rrk saw the circlet.
The thing was ugly, made of black, pitted iron. It was heavy and cold to the touch and was rough like a rock. It didn't even have any pointy bits, just a boring rough circle that was heavy and cold and ugly. The only thing that T'rrk thought made it valuable were the three pretty gems that were fixed into the thing.
The gems were rough too, but unlike the crown, they had color and dimly shone even in the dark. One was red like blood, another was yellow like gold. The third was blue, which T'rrk liked best. He cooed, as he pulled his shortsword from his belt and inexpertly tried to pry them off the heavy and ugly crown. After a bit of trying, T'rrk managed to pop all three out of the crown and, smiling at these small treasures, placed the gems in his satchel.
He considered taking the ugly crown with him. T'rrk thought the chief would ask him what he found while in the tower and he didn't want Gulgrip to take his treasures. He could give the chief the crown, explain it was something magic the wizard was working on. That should keep the chief happy.
A loud explosion suddenly erupted from above, T'rrk instinctively ducking low and scurrying to a corner. He wondered if the others finally killed the wizard, or if the wizard killed them. T'rrk shivered as he remembered the wizard, his angry face and frightening voice and the lightning and fire that sped from his hands. The chief said that the wizard's magic wasn't strong enough to take out everyone in the warband, but then again, maybe the chief was wrong. T'rrk remembered how strong the wizard was, how easy it was for the human to throw magic and kill his fellow warriors so quickly.
T'rrk's thoughts went back to the chief. The chief was skilled in his own right and his magic sword was powerful. T'rrk remembered seeing it in action once, the chief engaged in brutal combat against a giant of a human wrapped in heavy steel armor and wielding a massive, black sword. The chief maneuvered around the human's clumsy attacks and with his sword, sliced the man to bits, the chief's sword effortlessly cutting through the armor like it was meat.
The chief was strong and his sword was powerful. It might be able to break the magic shield the wizard has.
Hands digging into his satchel and feeling his stolen treasures safe, T'rrk hurried back to the ladder leading upstairs. Sword in hand, he hoped he wasn't too late, hoped that the chief wasn't dead.
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone