Comes the Wolf 8

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There were gasps of horror from the people on the platform near Blacknail. It was swiftly followed by swearing and action.

“King’s blood! What just happened?” Geralhd whispered.

“He’s turned traitor!” Saeter roared. “That fucking bastard, I’m going to kill him!”

The old scout immediately dropped and began climbing down the ladder. His movements shocked his nearby companions out of their own paralysis.

“What do you plan on doing?” Vorscha asked him in alarm. “You’ll never get there in time.”

“I’m going to do whatever I have to!” Saeter spat back as he jumped down the final length of the ladder and started running.

Vorscha threw out a few more colorful curses and then turned to Blacknail. The hobgoblin was still in shock. What was going on? Was his glorious leader dead? This didn’t make sense!

“Don’t just hang there! Go watch his back!” Vorscha ordered Blacknail.

It took a moment for her words to penetrate the haze of uncertainty that had filled the hobgoblin’s mind. However, when her meaning became clear he quickly nodded, dropped down onto the ground, and started running.

His master was headed towards the fighting all by himself. That was dangerous! Blacknail needed to go after him. Why was his master always doing such dumb things? Why did he always follow him?

There was a mob of tightly packed enemies and allies between Saeter and Herad’s fallen form. Blacknail couldn’t even see her anymore from ground level. However, he could still see Werrick. He was much taller than most other humans.

Most of Herad’s fighters hadn’t seen her fall, and even if they had they were still stuck in the melee. Blacknail caught up with Saeter before he reached the fighting.

“What are you-ss doing?” Blacknail asked the old scout. “Do you have a plan?”

His master barely registered the hobgoblin’s presence. He spared Blacknail a brief glance before facing forward again.

“I’m going to get Herad out of there!” Saeter growled as he ran.

A wave of exasperation and anguish hit Blacknail and caused him to groan. That was a terrible plan! What did his master think he was doing?

“We should wait for help or find somebody else to do it,” Blacknail told his master. “Red Dog must be around here somewhere. This sound-ss like something he should do.”

Unfortunately, the hobgoblin got no reply. Blacknail seriously considered clubbing his master over the head and dragging him away. That was probably unnecessary though, because the way forward was blocked by a wall of their allies. There was no way Saeter would be able to press through it and into the center of the melee where Herad was.

Up ahead, Werrick was talking to Mahedium as he walked over to the mage. He then made a sweeping hand gesture in the direction of the thickest fighting.

With a nod of acceptance, Mahedium turned and began shooting bolts of magic at those of Herad’s minions that were still fighting. The battle quickly started turning against them as the yellow blasts of crackling energy thinned their ranks.

There were cries of despair as the force of bandits protecting the camp’s gate collapsed. Their leader was down and they had no protection from Mahedium’s magic. Overcome with fear and hopelessness, the remaining defenders broke.

Large groups of bandits turned to run. Werrick’s troops roared in triumph and eagerly gave chase. Many of Herad’s men were slain as they exposed their backs to enemy.

Other more organized squads of defenders held themselves together. Some of these tried to keep fighting and were swiftly surrounded and cut down as their allies deserted them. A few lucky larger groups managed to hold their attackers back and to start a fighting retreat.

The battle at the gates swiftly degenerated into a dozen smaller fights as Herad’s forces fled deeper into camp. It was into this mess that Saeter dove. Blacknail groaned again and then quickly followed him. The dissolution of the battle and the resulting chaos was allowing Saeter to advance.

There was very little organized resistance to Saeter’s dash into enemy lines, much to Blacknail’s annoyance. Why was no one stopping them? Even if the fighting had moved on, there were still more than a few scattered enemies around.

Well, it wasn’t like Herad or Werrick’s minions wore uniforms, and most of the enemies were confused by the fact Saeter and Blacknail were running towards them instead of away. Others were more concerned with settling grudges or looting than with the new arrivals.

A few enemies did try to intercept Saeter, but Blacknail leapt ahead and cut them down without mercy. The hobgoblin was adept at taking advantage of chaos, and he still had a lot of Elixir burning through his system.

As Blacknail’s blade gutted a man wearing particularly shoddy armor, Saeter ran ahead. They were only a few dozen feet from Herad now, and well out of what was left of the fighting. Those groups of bandits still resisting Werrick had already retreated into deeper into camp.

However, before the old scout could reach his destination, Mahedium turned and noticed him. The mage was standing guard over Herad’s prone form. The fallen bandit chieftain’s chest rose and fell as she drew breath and her fingers were twitching. She was still alive!

“Oh, it’s you two. I was wondering when you would show up,” the mage remarked as he leveled his staff in their direction.

“Die you traitorous filth!” Saeter spat in reply as he lunged forward with his blade held high.

A frown appeared on Mahedium’s lip as yellow energy once again burst out from his staff and slammed into Saeter. The old scout stumbled and collapsed. The sight of his master falling enraged Blacknail. Mahedium would pay for this! He would feast on the man’s eyes!

With an angry hiss and a new burst of speed, Blacknail managed to dodge to the side of a blast aimed his way. He rolled across the ground for a second before jumping to his feet and leaping at his magic wielding opponent.

“Hmm, you’re frighteningly fast,” the mage remarked as he grabbed an amulet on his chest.

When he touched the amulet, an invisible wall of air slammed into Blacknail. It whipped up clouds of dust as it raced across the ground and its impact threw the hobgoblin backwards. He soared quite a distance through air before smashing into a pile of crates.

There was a loud crash. Pain ripped through the hobgoblin’s back and his ribs felt like every single one of them had cracked. He whimpered, and his jaw started hurting.

Even though he was having trouble even breathing, Blacknail fought off the pain and tried to pick himself off the ground. Fury and adrenaline rose within him to drown out all other concerns.

This wasn’t the time to be sitting around! He had to save his master and the chief! He was Blacknail! It would take more than a treacherous mage and a big fat human Vessel to defeat him! He was an invincible killer and they would taste his blade!

The hobgoblin hissed furiously and stood back up. He shook his head to clear it and tried to think up a plan. He was good at sneaking so maybe he could get behind Mahedium and…

That was when a beam of energy slammed into the hobgoblin. Instantly, Blacknail lost all control over his body and began convulsing. His spasming limbs sent crates flying and snagged a tarp. By the time the convulsions stopped he was back on the ground and thoroughly wrapped up in the tough fabric.

Exhausted, Blacknail groaned in pain. Every muscle in his body was aflame and all his joints felt out of place. He phased in and out of consciousness for a few seconds as he tried to figure out what had just happened. He remembered it was bad.

Blacknail opened his eyes, which hurt in ways he hadn’t thought possible, and saw his master lying on the ground a fair distance away. There were several unfamiliar and unfriendly looking bandits standing around Saeter. The hobgoblin tried to reach out in his direction but his hands wouldn’t move.

“Just the man I was looking for!” a tall armored man announced as he walked over the fallen scout. “You’re right on time to see me kill Herad.”

It was Werrick. The enemy leader smiled broadly as he looked down at the old scout. Behind him, corpses littered the battlefield and the shattered remains of the camp’s walls loomed.

Saeter was laid out on the ground where he had fallen after being hit by Mahdium’s magic. He slowly turned his head to glare at Werrick. No one had touched him but he still seemed incapable of making large movements.

A dozen of Werrick’s troops surrounded him as he looked down at the old scout. There wasn’t a friendly face in sight, unless you counted some of the corpses that littered the ground. A lot of bandits had died in the fight at the gates.

“I’ve been wanting to talk to you for a while, White Raven,” Werrick told Saeter.

“Go fuck a pig,” Saeter spat vehemently in return. He was apparently able to talk now.

The old scout sounded winded and like he was in pain. As he wheezed, the man he had insulted grinned in amusement.

“I suppose I deserve that,” Werrick admitted. “I did just have you blasted by magic. It looks like it hurts a lot.”

“It’s only a brief stunning effect. There is no lasting harm done,” Mahedium interjected in explanation. “But it certainly keeps people down long enough for more permanent solutions to be achieved, although both Vessels and mages resist it. The length varies but Herad won’t be up for…”

With a wave of his hand, Werrick silenced the rambling mage. The victorious bandit chieftain then turned back to Saeter.

“Your old leader has been defeated and will soon meet her end at my hand. I’m willing to show you mercy if you pledge your allegiance to me, and I will also to extend that kindness to others you choose,” Werrick told him. “I’ve always been an admirer of yours and having the White Raven under my command would be useful.”

“No,” Saeter replied as he glared defiantly at his capture.

“I see I’m going to have to strengthen my argument,” Werrick mused.

With an exasperated sigh, the bandit leader turned and strode over to Herad. She was still breathing but appeared to be unconscious.

“I don’t suppose your offer extends to her?” Saeter asked scornfully.

There were hints of fear and concern concealed behind his veneer of contempt, though. The old scout’s stubborn resolve seemed to grow weaker as Werrick got closer to Herad.

“No, she’s too stupid to ever learn her place. Honestly, I don’t know why you would even ask. Look at her,” Werrick replied contemptuously.

When he reached her, the large man gave her a solid kick to the ribs. She flinched as the pain of the blow woke her up and then again when she saw the man looming over her.

“What?” Herad gasped as she tried to sit up.

“It’s rather simple actually. You’re the one that fell into my trap, not the other way around,” Werrick explained. “I’ve defeated your pathetic band and now I just need to deal with you.”

Herad coughed and looked around. Sometime after she had fallen, someone had stripped her weapons from her. Her sword was gone and after checking her clothes she didn’t find any daggers. Her actions didn’t seem to concern Werrick. He just watched her and made no move.

“I made a deal with your mage. He agreed to switch sides if I presented him with a perfect opportunity,” Werrick continued as he held his arms out wide to emphasise his surroundings. “And here we are. You led him right to me and set yourself up.”

“You fucking faithless coward. I hope demons drag you down to the deepest hells beyond the sight of the gods,” Herad cursed Mahedium as she glared at him.

The mage just shrugged without concern. He didn’t seem insulted.

“I simply did what was in my best interest. Just like when I first joined up with your band,” Mahedium explained without remorse. “Werrick has resources and connections that you would never be able to give me. Everything I do is to advance my work, and the Broken Wheel knows the true value of my knowledge and skills. There’s absolutely no reason for me to stay in your dirty little camp anymore.”

“Can you really blame him for betraying you? Just look at the mess you’ve made of things, and how pathetic your strategy was,” Werrick remarked. “Luring me forward? Again? Really? That was how you dealt with the Vessel I sent to test you.”

“So what are you waiting for? Kill me, you coward,” Herad growled as she collected herself.

Her cloak was torn and her leather armor was covered in dirt and grime. Her fall had even smeared dust over her face. She looked tired and defeated, although her eyes still burned with anger.

“I’m the coward? You’re the one that tried to use magic to subdue me! I simply turned your own ploy against you,” Werrick replied dismissively.

Herad opened her mouth to reply but then she finally noticed Saeter. Her eyes flickered with recognition and she hesitated.

“What are you doing here?” she asked in surprise.

“I came to see your victory parade. It could use some work,” Saeter replied sarcastically.

“And I’m currently trying to recruit him,” Werrick added in a smug taunting tone.

“I hope you’re both very happy together,” Herad remarked bitterly as anger flashed in her eyes.

“I haven’t decided on anything yet, although it’s definitely sounding like a better idea all of a sudden,” Saeter shot back.

As the pair glared at each other Werrick looked momentarily taken aback. It took him a moment to come up with something to say.

“He’s far less likely to run into obvious traps under me,” Werrick rebuked Herad. “Did you really think I would charge into your base unprepared? How pathetic of you.”

Herad glared furiously at her opponent as Werrick continued his speech.

“I suppose I’m being uncharitable,” he told her. “It’s not like you’re anything more than a petty bandit. I knew exactly what you were thinking every step of the way. I timed my attack so that you would have no chance to question your strategy or come up with a new one.”

“Enough with the pompous bragging, you bloody ass. Why am I still alive?” Herad asked. “I’d rather be dead than listen to you expel such rot.”

“You’re here because I don’t fear you in the slightest. You’re beneath me and I want there to be no misunderstandings about that left in your head, or those of your minions, when you die,” Werrick answered as he smiled.

Just as he finished speaking, a new group of enemies appeared and walked his way. There were four soldiers and they were escorting a nervous looking Red Dog. The bandit lieutenant had been disarmed and there was a gash above his eye that was bleeding. His face was inscrutable as he took in the scene before him.

When they got to Werrick, one of the men kicked the back of one of Red Dog’s knees. With a huff, the bandit lieutenant landed on his knees kneeling position.

“He surrendered himself as soon as he learned you wanted to talk to him,” one of the guards told their master.

Werrick nodded and then motioned for the newcomers to step back.

“What do you want from me?” Red Dog tentatively asked. His voice was full of fear but it was also edged with hope.

“While most the bandits you find in the North are nothing more than deserters and riffraff too incompetent or stupid to stay in the army there are a few exceptions. It would be a waste to kill such men when they could be of use to me,” Werrick told him.

“So you want me to join up with you?” Red Dog inquired optimistically.

“Perhaps,” Werrick replied. “First, there will be a demonstration, and then I shall test your loyalty.”

As everyone warily watched him, the tall Vessel gestured and one of his minions tossed him a sheathed sword. Herad flinched as her enemy drew the blade, but instead of attacking her he tossed it onto the ground and then took several large steps backward.

“What in all the hells are you doing?” she asked him.

“Proving a point. Pick up the sword and let’s have another fight. You can even have a few minutes to rest if you want. It doesn’t matter; you’re no threat to me and you never were,” Werrick replied as he drew his own blade.

Herad hesitantly reached out to pick up the blade and then climbed to her feet. When Werrick didn’t react, she quickly brushed her black hair from her face and then raised the sword defensively.

A ring of enemy soldiers surrounded her and Werrick. Saeter and Red Dog were dragged out of the way by some of them so that there would be enough room for the fight. Neither of them was allowed to stand and an armed guard stood behind them.

Nothing happened for a few seconds. Herad seemed to be taking her time to collect herself.

Then, Herad lunged. Her eyes blazed with hate and she snarled as she slashed at her opponent’s head. However, Werrick wasn’t caught off guard. He parried her attack, and his front foot kicked out to catch Herad’s leg. As she stumbled, Werrick’s sword came around and stabbed her in the stomach.

“No!” Saeter gasped.

Herad’s eyes went wide with shock as she collapsed forward onto her knees. She landed in a kneeling position with her forehead against the ground. There was a savage wound on her back to match the one on her front, and both of them bleed profusely. Werrick’s blade had gone right through her.

A moment later, the bleeding stopped and thick black scales appeared. They sealed the wound and replaced her torn armor. However, Herad groaned in pain and drew a wheezing breath. Her face was still pressed against the dirt. Her internal injuries hadn’t disappeared; they had only been patched over.

“That’s a convenient power but it’s not going to save you this time,” Werrick remarked as he raised his blade again.

“You damned butcher!” Saeter cursed him.

“It was a fair fight, or close enough,” the Vessel remarked with a shrug.

He then kicked Herad’s blade from her hands. She barely reacted, except to hiss in pain and pull her hands in close to her chest. A second later, she coughed and splotches of blood hit the ground.

There was an unexpected clang, as Werrick dropped the blade he was holding next to Herad. Red Dog and Saeter stared at it uncomprehendingly.

“Now you have both seen me defeat Herad both in terms of strategy and in personal combat. I am clearly the better master for you to serve,” Werrick told his captives.

Red Dog glanced at Herad’s fallen form and winced. He then turned to the enemy leader.

“I’ll take you up on your offer. I see no point in dying here,” Red Dog said.

“It’s not quite that simple. First you must prove yourself,” Werrick replied. “Pick up that sword and finish off your old boss. Only when her corpse lies before me will you be allowed to serve.”

There was silence for several long seconds as his word sank in.

“And if we refuse to bloody our hands and darken our souls on your behalf?” Saeter asked.

“Then you and everyone else in this band will die,” Werrick answered.

Comes the Wolf 7

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“Don’t just hang there, you green idiot! Tell us what you see!” Saeter ordered the hobgoblin.

Blacknail suppressed his irritation at being addressed so rudely, and then began to explain what was happening to the others. A force led by Werrick himself was headed straight towards the gate Herad was trying to defend.

None of his companions seemed to think this was good news. Nervousness and fear was plain on their faces. Their reactions surprised the hobgoblin. A battle between chiefs sounded exciting to him!

“Showing himself now makes no bloody sense!” Vorscha cursed aloud. “He’s got the advantage in numbers so he should be wearing us down, not leading a charge.”

Without warning, a sizzling ball of flame burst into existence and shot towards the group of people beneath the wolf banner. Mahedium had revealed himself in a display of fiery power.

Before the flaming orb could reach its target, a lanky figure beside Werrick raised a hand. A shimmering wall of force sprang into existence and smashed into the fireball. The flames were battered aside before disintegrating into a brilliant rain of sparks. The shower of tiny lights fell over the battlefield without any noticeable effect.

Werrick’s advance continued unimpeded. The huge armoured figure reached the frontline, and his troops cheered as they stepped aside for him. The sound of bandits screaming in exhilaration filled the air and drowned out everything else.

“The Wolf has come! Forward to victory!” they roared excitedly as they redoubled their attack on Herad’s camp.

Their annoying voices hurt Blacknail’s sensitive ears. Now he really wanted to kill them, if only to shut them up. Also, their cheer was stupid.

“We need to get closer,” Saeter exclaimed in frustration as he looked around.

There was a small lookout platform around halfway down the wall in Herad’s direction. There was no way to get through the press of bodies at the front lines so Saeter headed over to it. Vorscha and Geralhd were quick to follow.

Blacknail gave them all a head start before racing ahead. They were just humans so he was much faster than them. He barely had to try.

“Down now,” Vorscha ordered the archers in the tower. “We need to see what’s going on.”

After they quickly climbed down to obey her, Saeter made his way up the rickety ladder. It was little more than a bunch of branches tied together by rope, and the platform itself was little better.

Vorscha and Geralhd followed him one after the other. There was only room for about three people on the crude wooden platform, so Blacknail simply climbed up the wall again.

From their new vantage point they saw Werrick and his elite join the melee. His banner flapped loudly in the wind overhead as the Wolf wadded into combat. The huge warrior had a shield in one hand and a long sword in the other. His heavy steel armor and ornate helmet shaped like a wolf’s head made him easy to pick out of the crowd.

With seemingly unstoppable momentum, Werrick began to cut down Herad’s forces. They broke before him like the tide hitting a rock, as his blade cleaved and knocked them aside. None of her men so much as slowed him down and they began to fall back away from him in fear.

The tide of battle swiftly changed and the attackers began steadily gaining ground. Herad didn’t take this challenge lying down. She screamed out a series of orders from where she stood at the back of the battle.

Instantly, her bodyguards and Mahedium rushed to her side. With the bandit chieftain at the lead, they formed a solid wedge that moved to intercept Werrick’s advance.

“Why aren’t the mages calling up any magic?” Geralhd asked as he squinted in Mahedium’s direction and leaned over a wooden rail.

“They’re too close for that now,” Vorscha cursed. “I doubt our comrades would appreciate Mahedium dropping a ball of fire on their heads while they are fighting.”

“They also need to keep their defenses ready in case of surprise attacks,” Saeter added. “That close to the melee they need to be careful, and the first thing on a mage’s mind is always their own safety.”

As Blacknail’s group watched, the two bandit chieftains quickly converged on each other. Without needing to be told, fighters from both sides moved out of the way and gave them space. Soon, only a few feet separated the two parties. They stared ferociously at each other as they converged.

The fury of all the nearby combatants ebbed slightly as they noticed what was about to take place among them. Everyone knew that if Herad and Werrick fought the outcome would determine the course of the battle. Even if they were fighting for their life no one wanted to miss this.

“Shit, she’s going to fight him herself!” Saeter swore. “I need to get over there.”

Before he could take more than a single step, Vorscha placed a hand on his shoulder to restrain him. He stopped and glared at her. The wrinkles around his eyes seemed deeper than usual.

“There’s nothing you can do. You’ll never cross the field safely and what could you even accomplish if you did? You’re just going to have to trust the boss. She knows what she is doing,” Vorscha told him.

“Damnation,” Saeter cursed in reply. “I should be there, but I never guessed this would happen.”

The old scout didn’t make another move to climb down the lookout platform. He gazed towards the center of the battle and bit his bottom lip nervously. Geralhd and Vorscha also looked worried as Herad came face to face with her nemesis.

Blacknail didn’t know what to think. The mood of his human friends bothered him but he couldn’t see Herad losing. She was the most dangerous and ruthless human he had ever met! He doubted Werrick could beat her in a stabbing contest.

“So you’ve decided to show yourself at last, coward,” Herad yelled as she snarled in Werrick’s direction.

The other man didn’t immediately reply. There was quiet lull as he gazed in her direction. His steel helm hid his face and concealed what he was thinking.

Both bandit chieftains stood just out of striking range with their raised weapons in front of them. Violence could erupt without warning any second.

“I have nothing to fear from the likes of you,” Werrick eventually announced in reply.

His voice was deep and serene, without the smallest hint of fear or worry. Like Herad, he had a natural commanding presence. Both bandit chiefs were still in a way that suggested restrained power. As people fought and died around them, they remained motionless and sized each other up.

Herad moved first. She lunged forwards and the quiet that had overtaken the field ended. Werrick blocked her blade with a casual raise of his own, but before he could counterattack Herad had already slipped out of his range.

The bodyguards and companions of the band leaders rushed forward to support their bosses. They encircled their chiefs as they fought each other but they didn’t get too close.  A bubble of space developed around the fighting Vessels that everyone else avoided.

Beyond the bodyguards, the other bandits were still fighting. Screams of pain and rage filled the air as violence was done and lives were ended.

As the masses fought around them, Herad and Werrick dueled. Under his heavy armor, Werrick moved slower than his opponent. Herad ducked in and out of his range while launching a series of feints.

However, the larger man easily kept her away from his vital points by holding his shield high and with the occasional lazy swing of his sword. He might have been slower but his fluid movements betrayed no lack of skill.

Again and again the pair of Vessels crossed blades. They moved with super human speed and their ferocity was unrelenting. Herad seemed unable to hurt Werrick but the advance of his troops had come to a complete halt.

From off to the side, a pair of wrestling bandits suddenly stumbled between the two chieftains. They were too preoccupied with fighting and too off balance to stay out of the way.

Herad saw them coming, lunged to the side, and kicked the closer man’s back. This sent them both careening straight towards Werrick. With a mighty swing of his shield, the Wolf battered them out of his way. There was a crunching sound as they hit the ground and rolled. Neither of them got up.

Herad took advantage of this momentary distraction to dash in from the other side and strike. Werrick’s blade slashed through the air to block her advance, but she ducked under it and stabbed towards his armpit.

The tip of Herad’s sword accelerated towards a gap between two steel plates under Werrick’s arm. All Werrick could do was take a frantic step back and turn away from the blow, but it was enough. Instead of hitting flesh, the blade impacted steel and slid away without drawing blood.

The heavy shield on Werrick’s other arm then swung around, and Herad had to dodge back out of the way. The two combatants separated and watched each other warily. Neither of them dropped their guard, and their respective bodyguards stepped forward to protect them.

“You can’t defeat me like this. You aren’t my equal, Black Snake,” Werrick shouted haughtily her way.

“This isn’t a duel, cur,” Herad replied scornfully. “I don’t need to beat you in a fancy fencing match.”

As she finished speaking, the bandit chieftain raised a hand above her head and signalled someone. Immediately, two volleys of arrows rose into the air.

Two groups of a dozen archers had stepped out of hiding from both sides of the entrance. The swarms of projectiles flew over all the fighting bandits’ heads and descended upon Werrick’s party from opposite directions.

Only one arrow shot towards Werrick though, and he easily blocked it with his shield. A few more ripped through the banner that one of the Wolf’s men was holding aloft, but most the buzzing projectiles were aimed at the nearby mage.

“See, the boss has a plan,” Vorscha observed with more than little relief.

No one answered her. They were fixated on the events unfolding before them.

The mage hurriedly raised an amulet. A rippling wave of force smashed into all the arrows coming at him from one direction and smashed them harmlessly aside. He quickly turned to block the ones from the other side as well, but he was a little too late.

His second blast hit the other flight of arrows and battered some of them away, but a lot of them had been too close to be affected properly. Two of the mage’s bodyguards fell as arrows pierced their bodies, but the others raised shields and blocked the rest of the projectiles.

“Ha,” the staff wielding mage laughed triumphantly. He was completely unharmed.

“That could have gone better,” Geralhd remarked unhappily.

That was when a lance of yellow energy slammed into the enemy mage from the front and hurled him off his feet. The men all around him were knocked aside as well; their bodies spasmed for several seconds on the ground before going still.

Mahedium stood off to the side of Herad. The staff in his hands was still glowing faintly yellow.  Several of Herad’s bodyguards surrounded him, and had been keeping the fighting safely away from him.

As Mahedium slowly leveled the staff in Werrick’s direction, Herad began to laugh triumphantly. She pointed her blade towards Werrick as a mocking grin appeared on her lips.

“Victory is mine, you arrogant son of a whore!” she laughed. “I’m going to enjoy destroying you.”

The enemy chieftain took a step backwards. It was hard to see under his armor, but Werrick looked tense and anxious. He glanced back and forth between Herad and Mahedium, as the troops behind him froze in fear. They knew that the tide of battle had just made a sudden and dramatic turn against them.

“She’s got him!” Vorscha exclaimed breathlessly from the lookout platform. “We’ve got this in the bag!”

“It… definitely seems like it,” Saeter observed skeptically next to her. As usual, the old scout refused to give in to optimism or the equally repugnant feeling of happiness.

“There’s no way even a Vessel could dodge war magic at that range,” Geralhd remarked. “Vorscha’s right, we’ve won. Werrick is finished.”

“Mahedium may have him cornered but I won’t be counting the Wolf down until he’s actually dead,” Saeter replied. “If he escapes then he can just come back with a new mage and reinforcements.”

The fighting between both sides didn’t stop but it slowed a little as people noticed what had happened. Blacknail smirked from his perch atop the wall. He had known that Herad was going to win. She always did. That was why she was the chief!

Leisurely, Mahedium strolled forward. Everyone except for his guards backed away from him. Without the other mage around to check his power Mahedium was free to let loose against anyone that threatened him, and he had already demonstrated the lethal power he had at his disposal.

The mage kept his staff leveled directly at Werrick and its tip crackled with yellow energy. He avoided getting too close to anyone else as he moved towards the enemy leader.

“Are you going to try and run?” Herad taunted her opponent. “You might be able to make it.”

A wide exhilarant grin was plastered across her face. It made her seem almost mad, or at least madder than usual. Her dark eyes blazed with excitement as she watched her cornered enemy.

“I don’t think that would accomplish anything,” Werrick replied tonelessly as he gazed at Mahedium.

“Take that helmet off,” Herad commanded him. “I want to see your face.”

Werrick hesitated for a second, and then removed his steel helm. He tossed it aside and it rolled across the ground. His face was stern looking but handsome. The grey mane had been part his wolf helmet but he had fairly long brown hair of his own. He looked neither particularly young nor all that old.

There was a defiant glint in his eyes as he met Herad’s glare. She noticed it but it just made her chuckle. She liked breaking peoples’ pride.

From his perch on the wall, Blacknail studied Werrick. He frowned as he realized the man didn’t seem all that scared. The hobgoblin considered himself an expert on human behaviour, especially their fears, and this man was too calm. Despite himself, Blacknail was intimidated and he didn’t like that at all.

“Ha, for years you’ve claimed to be the biggest and baddest bandit in all the North. Now look at you!” Herad gloated. “In the end you fell right into my trap!”

“Trap?” Werrick asked skeptically. “You were simply fortunate enough to take out my mage, and I’m not defeated yet.”

“As you made your way here I tested your forces several times and interrogated a few captives,” Herad explained smugly. “I quickly learned that you only had two mages with you, and during your first attack on these walls my mage defeated one of yours.”

“That’s far from any sort of grand strategy. It’s just basic intelligence,” Werrick remarked with noteworthy calm.

Blacknail studied the enemy leader closely and licked his lips uncertainly. He knew his humans, they were simple creatures at their core, and he sensed that something was off about this one. What was it?

“I knew that you would eventually have no choice but to join the attack yourself, and that you would need to bring your mage,” Herad explained smugly. “I knew that without him guarding your back you would be an easy target, and I was right. Here we are.”

“That’s certainly sounds like something a second-rate backstreet thug like you would come up with,” Werrick replied coldly. “It’s as cowardly as it is simple.”

“Petty insult will do you no good, Wolfy. Everything that was yours is about to become mine! I want you to reflect on that before I kill you,” Herad gloated.

“You have no idea what I possess, Black Snake. It’s truly sad that you think that killing me would elevate yourself,” Werrick replied. “You are as blind and ignorant as always, a mindless killer with delusions of greatness. You aren’t worthy of walking in my shadow.”

“We will see about that,” Herad replied angrily.

“Enough useless talk. Are you just going to stand there or am I going to have to make you use that thing?” Werrick asked as he turned towards Mahedium and levelled his sword at the mage.

“As you wish,” Mahedium remarked coolly as the energy around his staff grew more violent.

The air was thick with tension as everyone waited to see what was about to happen. Werrick didn’t flinch as Mahedium moved.

The mage then swung his staff around and blasted the guards behind himself. They went down as yellow energy arced between them.

“What?” Herad gasped as her eyes went wide with shock.

She froze in surprise, which gave Mahedium more than enough time to point his staff in her direction. She tried to dodge to the side as Mahedium unleashed a bolt of magic in her direction, but it clipped her side.

A cry of pain and complete disbelief escaped Herad’s lips as the energy hit her. A tremor worked its way through her body and then she collapsed bonelessly onto the ground. She didn’t get back up.

Werrick laughed. There was a mocking tone to it as his deep booming voice echoed out over the battlefield.

Comes the Wolf 6

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Cries of alarm woke Blacknail from his slumber. He could hear people yelling excitedly outside his tent. It was probably nothing, though. Humans were prone to meaningless fear and could get themselves worked up over nothing.

When the noise failed to fade away, the hobgoblin groaned and threw his blankets off. He then stuck his head out of the entrance of his tent and looked around. It took a moment to clear the sleep from his eyes by blinking.

Outside, it was so early in the morning that it was still dark out. The tip of the sun was barely visible on the horizon and the trees blocked most of its light.

With a dissatisfied hiss, Blacknail turned to look at his surroundings. What could possibly be going on so early in the morning? If there wasn’t a good reason for all this commotion then Blacknail was going to track down the person responsible and make his displeasure known.

It didn’t seem like a false alarm, though. All around Herad’s base there was an unusually high amount of activity. The bandit chieftain’s minions were all running around with far more enthusiasm than they usually mustered this early in the day.

“To arms, the enemy is coming!” someone of in the distance yelled.

Another annoyed hiss escaped Blacknail’s lips as he realized what was going on. He had a feeling this wasn’t going to be one of his favourite days. Any morning that started hours before breakfast was bound to be terrible.

There was a rustle from the nearby tent where his master slept, and then Saeter stepped out. The old scout was only partly dressed, but he was already quickly slipping the rest of his clothes on.

“Come on, what are you waiting for? Let’s go,” he ordered the hobgoblin.

Blacknail grunted sourly in reply before disappearing back inside his tent. After making sure his shirt wasn’t on backwards again, he quickly dressed himself and stepped outside.

“This is bloody annoying. Why is the enemy attacking so early?” Blacknail grumbled aloud as he strode over to his master.

“They probably wanted to move before we could catch them napping, like last night,” Saeter replied.

This made sense to Blacknail. The enemy should fear his awesome martial prowess. They would be fools not to. In this case though, it would have been nice if they had feared him a little less so that he could get a good night’s sleep.

The pair headed off to talk to the nearest group of bandits so that they could figure out was going on. However, before they got halfway there someone called out to them.

“Saeter and Blacknail, over here!” Vorscha yelled as she waved and stomped towards them.

The muscular woman looked both aggravated and distracted. She had Khita trailing behind her, and the redhead looked excited. Saeter kept walking forward as if he hadn’t heard anyone call out his name, so Blacknail poked him in the shoulder and pointed their way.

When she saw Saeter looking in her direction, Vorscha turned to make sure Khita was still behind her and then starting dragging her over to them.

“I need you to watch this ruffian,” the warrior woman told them when they got close.

Neither Blacknail nor Saeter thought much of this. Both of them scowled in distaste.

“I can take care of myself,” an affronted Khita declared.

Vorscha simply rolled her eyes and pushed her towards Saeter. The much smaller woman stumbled but managed to catch herself.

“If that’s an order then I guess I have no choice. More importantly, what’s going on?” the old scout asked Vorscha.

“Werrick’s men are marching towards the wall, right now. It looks like he’s really throwing everything he’s got into the assault this time. I think your raid last night really pissed him off,” Vorscha explained.

“You should have told me about that sneak attack! I would have gone with you,” Khita exclaimed angrily.

Blacknail wouldn’t have minded taking Khita along for the raid. Unfortunately, if he had invited her then he would have also taken the blame when she got herself killed. A much more subtle way of getting rid of the annoying pest was required.

“I just got up. What are the plans for the defense?” Saeter asked.

“We were up late burning important things,” Blacknail added grumpily.

“I don’t have time to fill you in. I really need to get back to the gate before the fighting starts,” Vorscha explained. “If you’re looking for a place to be then you should just do what you did last time, hang back and reinforce any spots that look stressed.”

“Sounds like fun,” Blacknail replied. It also sounded easy and like a great way to keep an eye out for good looting opportunities.

“Which, conveniently enough, will allow us to keep Khita back away from most the danger,” Saeter remarked dryly.

Vorscha leveled a heavy glare at Saeter. Beside her, Khita’s face was red with anger and her fists were clenched tightly. She looked like she wanted to punch someone. Blacknail took a small step away from her.

“Are you complaining about something? Do you want to join the front line or something?” Vorscha asked the old scout.

“No, it sounds like a great plan,” Saeter replied as he shrugged indifferently. “I was just thinking aloud.”

Off to the side, Blacknail threw Khita a speculative look. Was it possible that Khita’s uselessness was actually proving useful, right now? No, he must be misunderstanding something.

Suddenly, there was a loud twang as a volley of arrows tore through the air. The enemy had entered within bowshot. Vorscha flinched at the noise and turned to Saeter.

“Then shut up, old man,” Vorscha growled at him with uncharacteristic vehemence.

Everyone took a step back from her in surprise. Even Saeter had been caught off guard by her temper.

“I need to go,” she told them. “But before I do, I have one last thing to say. Blacknail, I’m holding you responsible for Khita. Watch her like a hawk or I’ll gut you like fish.”

With that said, Vorscha turned and began hurrying over towards the entrance to the camp and the break in the wall there. No one said anything for a moment, but off in the distance the now familiar sound of an army marching could be heard.

“Fine, follow me,” Saeter told his two companions.

The old scout led the way off towards the same hill they had watched the battle from before. Still somewhat off balance, Khita and Blacknail followed him silently.

Before they could get to their destination, a wave of hot air slammed into them as the sound of splintering wood filled their ears. Something had exploded.

Blacknail ducked low to regain his balance. He shielded his head as he turned to look in the direction the blast had come from. There was a huge gaping hole in the wall between him and Werrick’s army.

Flames danced around the edges of the new opening. The nearby bandits who had been near the wall had been thrown aside and scattered. Some of them were picking themselves off their feet, while others weren’t so lucky. Shrapnel from the explosion had crippled and killed.

“Well, all hells and damnation. I think we found a spot that looks stressed and needs reinforcing,” Saeter remarked sourly as he surveyed the damage.

There was a lot of damage to survey. A dozen men could have stepped through the gaping hole that had been blown in the wooden barrier protecting the camp.

“Fucking magic,” Blacknail muttered. He hated mages when they weren’t on his side. It didn’t seem fair.

“Wow, that doesn’t seem fair,” Khita remarked in an awed tone as she gazed at the blast zone.

Blacknail turned to glare at the redhead. She wasn’t allowed to agree with him. It made him seem dumb…

“Very little is fair about war,” Saeter remarked dryly. “What I want to know is why Mahedium isn’t firing back.”

“He’s over there,” Blacknail pointed out.

The other two turned in the direction the hobgoblin indicated. They could clearly see Mahedium running over to the wall from his workshop. The mage was carrying a long staff as he moved at a hurried pace.

“That’s another reason they struck so early,” Saeter commented. “Werrick knew Mahedium couldn’t always be on guard. He’s not nearly as dumb as Herad likes to say he is.”

Before the mage reached his destination, the sound of shouting intensified and there was a series of metallic screeches. The enemy had reached the wall and battle had been joined again.

A wave of enemy bandits was fighting their way towards the front entrance. A large mass of Herad’s troops were blocking their way and pushing them back. Another large group was headed towards the hole the enemy mage had blown in the wall.

Herad’s troops there were still recovering and badly outnumbered. Only a few of them fought back when the front rank of enemy bandits reached the break and began trying to force their way inside the camp.

“We need to help out,” Saeter said as he quickly pulled his bow from off his back. “They can’t be allowed to get a foothold inside.”

The old scout then quickly nocked an arrow, aimed, and let it loose. The arrow took flight and slammed into the chest of a bandit that had just stepped up to attack one of Herad’s troops that was trying to defend the gap in the wall.

Blacknail was already running after the arrow. He pulled out a vial and downed it, as he dashed down the hill. It took him only a few seconds to run past all of Herad’s nearby minions and reach the fighting.

The invigorating rush of Elixir being burned washed through him as he drew his blade. It came free with a quiet hiss, and the hobgoblin immediately aimed its silver edge at the nearest enemy.

There was no point in holding back. The hobgoblin wasn’t going to dive into a melee full of armed humans without taking every advantage he could get. Humans might be dumb and slow but there were also big and tough.

Around Blacknail, about a dozen disorganized bandits were desperately trying to block what seemed to be hundreds of enemies from slipping through the break in the wall before them. Their resistance seemed pointless.

Then, the hobgoblin’s blade cut down the first attacker. Everyone barely had time to register his presence before Blacknail moved on to a second. Relying on pure Elixir driven speed, he slipped around the attackers and cut them down, one after the other. Half a dozen of them fell before they could react to this new unexpected threat.

When they did realize what was happening, the enemy recoiled in fear and shouts of surprise escaped their lips.

“Gods’ sweet mercy, it’s a monster,” someone shrieked in terror.

Blacknail grinned as their sweet fear made his heart flutter in joy, and then he launched himself forward again with renewed energy. Instinct guided Blacknail as he attacked his enemies’ weak points. A familiar bloodlust rose within him and drove him forward.

His blade sliced through soft flesh as he easily sidestepped a counterattack. However, for every one of Werrick’s men he killed another soon took its place. The mass of attacking enemies didn’t seem to be shrinking at all.

Suddenly, the enemy stopped coming. They lined up just out of reach, and Blacknail had to stop himself from leaping forward after them. Fury and hunger burned within him. He wanted to fight!

As he warily watched the enemy, Blacknail took a careful step back. An enemy officer screamed something, and then the entire enemy line marched forward together. Now there was no space between them that Blackail could use or slip through. They was just a solid mass of furious looking humans bearing down on him.

“Shit,” one of Blacknail’s nearby allies swore.

“Double shit,” the hobgoblin added in agreement. His blood-lust was swiftly giving ground to his love of running away from danger.

The enemy approached, and Blacknail took a moment to glance over his shoulder. Herad’s forces were still greatly outnumbered; there were only a little more than ten of them still standing. These weren’t odds the hobgoblin liked.

Saeter and Khita were off to one side. They had apparently followed after Blacknail without him noticing. Both of them had swords in their hands and looked tired from fighting.

The front rank of the enemy reached the wall. Instead of fighting them, Herad’s scattered forces retreated backwards, giving the enemy a foothold inside the camp. Even Blacknail didn’t like the idea of trying to fight that many humans back to back. Running would probably be a better option, especially if he could get his master away but leave Khita behind.

“Don’t let those rutting bastards take a single step forward!” a familiar voice suddenly yelled.

Everyone turned to see dozens of bandits charging towards the fight, with Vorscha leading them. The warrior woman had taken the time to get armored up. She had a steel breastplate and was wearing a chainmail shirt underneath that. A long sword was raised above her head as she ran past Blacknail and joined the defense.

Right behind her ran the other bandits, including Geralhd. The laid back man had finally bothered to throw on some real armor as well. There was a steel cap on his head that looked somewhat ridiculous over his long hair. However, he used the short sword in his hands skillfully.

The defenders were invigorated by the reinforcements. They threw themselves alongside Vorcha in an attempt to push the enemy back out of the camp. Overextended and flanked, Werrick’s troops were quickly forced back.

The entire time, Vorscha was in the middle of the fighting. She wielded her long sword with skill and power as she urged her troops on.

“Push the damned bastards all the way back. Don’t leave a single one alive!” she yelled as she cut an enemy down.

There was a ragged cheer from her comrades in response and they pressed forward. Even Blacknail found himself rejoining the fighting. The urge to join up and fight alongside Vorscha’s counterstrike was just too great to resist.

Soon, the enemy was in full retreat and Vorscha had secured the break in the wall. Once her troops had formed up to block further entry by Werrick’s men, she turned to look back the way she had come.

A pair of horses was pulling one of the supply wagons towards her. Vorscha saw it and motioned towards the drivers.

“Get that bloody thing in the gap, right fucking now!” Vorscha yelled in their direction.

The drivers nodded and jumped off the wagon. Then, they quickly unharnessed the horses and led them aside, as Vorscha led a small team over to the cart.

As the defenders of the wall jumped aside, the bandits pushed the wagon into the break and swung it around. The wooden sides of the wagon filled most the space even if there were gaps.

Almost immediately, enemy troops attempted to scale it or slip around it. They were quickly fought off by the reinforcements Vorscha had brought with her. The warrior woman backed away from the fighting and turned to Saeter.

“That’s one crisis averted, for now. I wish I could say that was going to be the last,” she told the old scout.

“How are things going at the gate?” Saeter asked her as he sheathed his sword.

“We’re holding,” Vorscha replied. “For now, I can’t say much more than that.”

“Things aren’t going badly but not great either,” Geralhd added as he wandered over.

Vorscha’s lover was smiling cockily as he flashily flourished his blade. Blacknail wasn’t sure why Geralhd was so proud. The man had fought alongside everyone else but he hadn’t really distinguished himself.

“It’s still early in the day. Werrick might be trying to wear us down with his superior numbers,” Vorscha explained. “That damn opening magic barrage of his widened the battle line and has forced us to commit most our reserve already.”

Suddenly, before anyone could respond to that, a chorus of blaring trumpets split the air. It was almost immediately followed by the steady beating of drums. The energetic refrain was clearly coming from near the front gate.

Everyone turned to look that way. However, the press of bodies around the gate was too thick. All they could see was the back of Herad’s forces.

“Damnation, what in all the hells is going on now?” Vorscha cursed loudly.

This terrible view didn’t satisfy Blacknail. He immediately dashed towards the wall to get a higher position. He wanted to see what was going on. Instead of climbing to the top, where he would be an easy target for every enemy with a bow, he hung below the apex and peeked over.

Hundreds of enemy soldiers were trying to push forward through the gap in the wall where the camp’s front entrance was. However, there wasn’t nearly enough space for them to attack all at the same time so Herad’s forces were holding them off.

Above the fighting floated the wolf head banner and it was steadily moving closer to the front line. Right below the symbol a small group of people were positioned. The enemy soldiers moved out of their way and gave them space as they advanced towards the front.

One tall figure stood out from all the others and strode confidently forward through the ranks. He was dressed in heavy armor made of overlapping steel bands and he wore a steel helmet shaped like a wolf’s head. A thick mane of grey hair jutted out from the back of the helmet and cascade down the man’s back.

The large armored warrior could only be Werrick. The Wolf had finally shown himself and was now personally leading his forces in an all or nothing assault. A shiver of fear seemed to run through the ranks of Herad’s outlaws as they recognized him.

Comes the Wolf 5

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Saeter led the raiding party out into the forest. One after the other, they slipped into the heavy shadows cast by the trees. It was too late in the day for bird song, so they moved in almost complete silence. Only the occasional sound of a snapping twig or rustle of movement could be heard. Even Scamp was perfectly quiet.

Soon, they reached the span of the forest where they had seen Werrick’s sentries. Saeter signalled for everyone to stop and then motioned Blacknail over to his side.

“You know what to do,” he told the hobgoblin.

Excitedly, Blacknail smiled and nodded in response, before spinning around and creeping away into the forest. His hunting instincts were already kicking in and urging him on. This was a game he both loved and excelled at; he was born to it.

The bushes around him were thick and dark. However, the hobgoblin had no problem seeing. His eyes shone with hunger as they pierced the shadows with ease.

Blacknail’s stalked silently towards the spot where he and Saeter had seen the sentries earlier. There was no light or noise to indicate anyone was nearby, but Blacknail could smell their scent on the wind and feel the presence of prey in his bones.

Yes, there they were. Two humans were standing next to the same stone as before. They were hidden by the shadows, but Blacknail knew where to look. Closer inspection revealed that it wasn’t the same two people as before. Their builds were different. However, these new lookouts weren’t any better at their jobs than the last ones.

Against a human enemy, they probably would have been able to raise an alarm long before being detected, but against a hobgoblin they were outmatched. Blacknail easily circled around until he was in their blind spots, and then he began to creep their way through the bushes. The darkness was his ally, not theirs. They were only human.

A few moments later, Blacknail’s thin cloaked form stood only a few feet behind the sentries, and they were none the wiser. This delighted the hobgoblin and he had to suppress a grim chuckle.

The pair of humans in front of Blacknail stared off into the darkness as he observed them. The only sound they made was of gentle relaxed breathing; the hobgoblin made none at all.

Suddenly, one of the sentries started to turn around. Before he could finish, Blacknail was beside him, his dagger drawn. The unseen blade lashed out through the night air and tore open the unlucky sentry’s throat.

As the first man fell with a faint gagging noise, the second reacted. He spun around, only to see nothing but his comrade’s body and an empty black forest. His mouth opened to raise the alarm, and Blacknail’s knife slid in under his ribs. The hobgoblin had dashed in under the man’s vision and gotten behind him unseen.

With his task done, Blacknail took a second to hum a happy little tune while he cleaned his daggers. He hadn’t even needed to burn any of the Elixir he had taken a few minutes ago. When his blades were clean, the hobgoblin headed back to his master to report in. He had done such a good job!

After whistling the prearranged bird call to announce his arrival, Blacknail walked out of the shadows. Everyone looked his way as he approached, but they didn’t otherwise react.

In the middle of the group, Elyias was looking very nervous. The young man was glancing fretfully about and seemed ready to bolt. The dark forest that lay in every direction and loomed above clearly unnerved him.

“Are you done?” Saeter asked in a whisper.

“Yep, all done,” Blacknail replied smugly.

“Then, let’s get going,” Saeter said as he motioned the group forward again. “We don’t have time to waste.”

The party of bandits immediately headed past the fallen sentries and towards the road. Soon, the flickering light of campfires could be seen ahead of them through the trees. The raiding party stopped at the very edge of the forest.

Saeter gazed out at the scene before them as his subordinates drew their weapons. Out on the road, Werrick’s troops had started to tuck in for the night. The tents were all still there but there wasn’t nearly as much movement as before.

Only a few shadowy figures were walking about. Others could be seen around campfires, but most seemed to have gone to sleep in their tents. The wagons the raid was targeting were still in the same place as well. They lay only a few rows of tents away, but getting to them wouldn’t be easy.

There were lots of lookouts, of course. A fair number of armed guards had been posted to watch the trees. They stood with the fires of the camp behind them so they didn’t lose their night vision. It also made them great targets.

If that wasn’t bad enough, the road was too close to the forest for them to have a very good view. With the sentries in the forest already gone, they would only have a few seconds of warning and that was it. Blacknail could do a lot with a few seconds.

“We make for the wagons there,” Saeter told everyone as they huddled near him in the gloom. “Archers will take out as many lookouts as possible and then we will charge. Varhs, make sure Scamp throws his stones well away from allies. The rest of you should sow chaos, set things aflame, and then retreat back this way.”

There were nods and everyone readied themselves. Elyias raised his hand as if to ask a question, but Saeter stared him down until he sheepishly lowered it. Then, the old scout signalled, and everyone sprang into action.

A dozen cloaked archers stepped out of the bushes and let loose a volley of arrows. The nearby lookouts went down before any one of them could raise the alarm. Immediately, the rest of Saeter’s men burst out of the forest and dashed towards the wagons.

Now, some of Werrick’s bandits began to notice that something abnormal was going on. Cries of surprise rose into the air as men lurched to their feet. However, the fastest members of the raiding party, including Blacknail, had already reached the closest campfires.

The hobgoblin slashed at a startled man that was trying to back away from him. His blade caught the man’s arm and sliced deeply into it. Even as the man was falling, the hobgoblin was already running past. There was much to do and it had to be done fast.

Similar scenes played out nearby. Werrick’s men had been caught off guard, and they were being cut down before they had a chance to organize or even draw their weapons.

Well, almost all of them. One squad of half a dozen men seemed to appear out of nowhere. They were armored and they drew their blades as they charged towards the raiders.

Varhs saw them coming. He quickly passed something to Scamp and pointed towards them. The goblin then tossed the object at the charging enemy. It flickered with orange light as it sailed through the air, before exploding with a thunderous bang. The enemy was violently blasted backwards and scattered.

Blacknail raced past tents as he closed in on the wagons. That was when he encountered the first bit of resistance. A pair of enemies ran out of the darkness to cut him off. Both of them already had their swords out and up in defensive guards.

Instead of slowing, Blacknail sped up. He grinned excitedly as he burned Elixir and felt its effects wash through him. It tingled as it boosted his body.

The hobgoblin’s move caught the enemy off guard. Before they could react, he had already batted one sword aside and flanked his opponents. The closest man was off balance, so Blacknail stabbed at his chest. With his Elixir-driven strength, the hobgoblin’s blow punched through the armor and into the soft flesh beneath.

That left one defender still alive. Blacknail quickly kicked his victim’s chest so that he could tug his sword out of it easier. It came loose with a loud sucking noise and the man’s body flopped over backwards.

The other defender lunged forwards past his comrade’s body to strike at Blacknail, but the hobgoblin was too fast for him. Blacknail stepped back out of the way and then dodged another strike by jumping to the side.

Before the defender could try for a third blow, Blacknail launched a series of attacks. The lightning fast slashes pushed the man back until the last caught him in the shoulder.

The hobgoblin’s foe screamed in pain and dropped his blade. His voice was silenced a second later when Blacknail’s sword cut deep into his neck.

That was when several of Blacknail’s comrades reached him. Without slowing, they raced past him towards the wagons. Two of them had stopped to light torches, and they hurled them into the back of the wagons. The contents of the carts almost instantly burst into flame.

As the fire spread, it frightened the horses that had been tied up nearby. The beasts began to scream harshly and stomp around in a panic. It was music to Blacknail’s long pointy ears.

The hobgoblin grinned madly as he grabbed a flaming piece of woods and threw it towards them. He hoped the vicious beasts burned! This was great!

By then, the wagons were completely ablaze. Flames roared above them and crackled madly, illuminating the camp for hundreds of feet. The sound of both human and animal screams filled the night, and Blacknail basked in it all.

Energy was surging through him in incredible amounts. He was truly alive. The goblin took a moment to let out a loud hysterical laugh, as another explosion went off somewhere behind him. He was having so much fun! It was incredible.

“Everyone, back!” Saeter roared from somewhere nearby.

Blacknail leapt to obey his master, mostly. Instead of heading straight back the way he had come, the hobgoblin took a slight detour. He picked up a flaming torch someone had dropped, and dashed into a thick cluster of tents.

The cloaked hobgoblin ran through the camp, dragging fire and death behind him. He pressed the torch against the fabric of the tents as he moved, setting them ablaze. Whenever someone lurched into his path he cut them down mercilessly. They seemed to move in slow motion when compared to his Elixir-boosted hobgoblin speed.

Werrick’s men started running away from Blacknail instead of trying to face him. The hobgoblin laughed in vicious delight as panicked men and women fled before him through the darkness. The raging fires that surrounded him blinded as much as they illuminated.

His blade reflected the flames as he cut a fleeing man down, and he laughed harder as joy overtook him. The sound off his high pitched voice rose above the flames. Its eerie cadence sounded nothing at all like a human’s.

The rows of tents eventually came to end though, and Blacknail found himself standing not too far from the edge of the forest. He threw a quick look back at the chaos behind him, and then dashed forward into the bushes and shadows with a smug smile on his lips.

Once back in the forest, he could hear people running through it in front of him. It was probably Saeter and the others so he headed their way. It didn’t take him long to catch up.

Most of the raiding party, including Varhs and Scamp, seemed have made it out safely. Saeter was leading the group. As Blacknail approached, the old scout turned to him.

“Is anyone following us?” he asked the hobgoblin.

Blacknail took a second to listen before replying. He could still hear shouting and mayhem from Werrick’s camp and someone in the forest behind them stumbling around. He focused on the closer sound and recognized a familiar terrified mumbling.

“Just a straggler,” the hobgoblin told his master. “I’ll go get him!”

Before Saeter could reply Blacknail was already dashing off into the trees.

“Oh, gods! I’m going to die here, all alone in this accursed dark forest. I can’t see anything!” Elyias whimpered as he staggered around in the dark.

The young bandit clearly had no idea where he was going. He had been stumbling around in circles.

“You’re fine; I’m here,” Blacknail announced as he stepped out of the shadows.

Instead of being comforted, the hobgoblin’s voice startled Elyias and he sucked down a breath to let loose a scream. Before he could though, Blacknail kicked him in the stomach. The young man coughed and gagged as the impact knocked the wind from him.

“Don’t do that, silly,” Blacknail explained cheerfully. “You need to be quiet. Now, come with me.”

As Elyias tried to right himself, the hobgoblin patted him reassuringly on the shoulder.

“You’ll do better next time,” Blacknail said as he began dragging him away towards the others.

Elyias seemed too stunned to resist, so it didn’t take them long to catch up. Most the humans were having trouble moving in the dark and this slowed them down. Night had truly fallen now and there was little light to see by. The slow pace meant it took them a while to get back to Herad’s base.

Eventually though, they did slip in through a side entrance and make it back to safety. They were greeted quite jovially by the guards, although Blacknail got a few uneasy glances.

Elyias took the opportunity to collapse up against the wall. He sat on the ground and began rocking back and forth as he muttered softly to himself. He was such a funny human! Blacknail really looked forward to bringing him on the next mission.

Herad showed up before the rest of the raiding party had a chance to sit down and relax. Vorscha and Red Dog were also walking at their boss’ side. All of them had excited grins on their faces, even if Herad’s was a lot more bloodthirsty than the others.

“You can see the flames from here!” Herad bragged haughtily. “I bet this knocks the wind out of Werrick’s sails.”

“The wind also carried the screams and laughter here,” one of the guards remarked. “Hearing that probably sent shivers down more than a few spines. I know it scared the crap out of me.”

There were a few murmurs of agreement and looks directed towards Blacknail. This made the hobgoblin feel quite good about himself. He was feared!

“We got the job done,” Saeter told his chief. “The wagons were destroyed and we did more than a little damage besides that.”

“Did you get the information I wanted?” Herad asked him.

“Yes, the chaos gave me enough time to find someone to ask some pointed questions,” Saeter replied. “I’ll give you the full report later.”

Herad nodded her acceptance as her eyes glinted excitedly. She obviously wanted to hear his report but she was being uncharacteristically patient about it.

“They should have cut back the forest,” Vorscha commented as she shook her head in disapproval. “Camping next to it is just asking to be taken by surprise.”

“Ha, these are bandits, not a real army. I’m surprised Werrick has managed to get them as organized as they are,” Red Dog replied scornfully.

“Well, they might make it a priority now,” Vorscha mused.

“Only if Werrick doesn’t pack up and leave,” Red Dog countered. “That light you see over the trees is their main supply cache going up in smoke. They will probably start running out of food before too long, and it’s going to be hard to get more all the way out here safely.”

“Not to mention, their morale has to be down in the drags. They have no reason to believe we can’t pull this off every night,” Vorscha added.

“We probably can,” Saeter said. “I wouldn’t want to strike them quite so hard, but we could certainly hit them around the edges and see what gets knocked loose.”

As the others were talking, Herad’s grin widened. The bandit chieftain looked positively delighted. It was more than a little unsettling.

“Werrick can’t afford to retreat,” she told her minions. “But this is still a huge blow against him. I bet the rude bastard is fuming and cursing himself sick right now.”

“I think I deserve a treat, great mistress,” Blacknail interjected hopefully when his chieftain was finished speaking.

He had been very useful, and all the killing and setting things on fire had made him more than a little peckish. Also, everyone was smiling so this was probably a good time to ask.

“You deserves many more than just one,” Herad replied as he placed a hand on the hobgoblin’s shoulder.

Blacknail’s eyes widened from shock and he shuddered slightly. The chieftain was touching him! It was terrifying! What should he do?

“I’ll have someone whip you all up a feast,” Herad told the raiding party.

She then withdrew her hand from Blacknail’s shoulder, which made him feel a lot better. All the nearby bandits smiled and several of them cheered. More than a few conversations broke out as people began bragging and talking among themselves.

The hobgoblin slipped away while the others were busy. The humans were being too chatty for him, and he wanted to get some space. They almost never discussed things that interested him. He’d come back when the food was ready.

Blacknail shivered as he walked. The hot remnants of battle lust were still working their way through his system. He still felt the urge to run and fight in his muscles.

As a gust of wind blew by, Blacknail wandered off towards the wall. He picked out an empty expanse and began to climb it. Once perched atop the barrier of stakes, he stared out into the darkness.

The road before him was dark and empty for quite a distance until it reached Werrick’s camp. The flames there illuminated the tree tops on either side of the road as they swayed in the wind.

Only a few of the fires Blacknail and his tribe had set were still burning, and they were reduced in size. There were quite a few campfires to see by, though. Blacknail could see the small shadowy figures of people moving everywhere. Werrick’s camp was still a hive of frantic human activity.

Blacknail watched them scurry about for a while. He kind of wanted to go back and hunt a few more of them, but that would be a terrible idea. It had gotten too dark for even him to see properly and going out alone was dangerous.

No, he would just have to wait until tomorrow.

Comes the Wolf 4

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It only took a few minutes for Saeter to come back. After shooing Geralhd and Varhs away from his campsite, the old scout led Blacknail off into the bush again. Herad wanted them to watch the enemy and make sure they didn’t circle around, so that was what they were going to do.

The hobgoblin and his master took the path at the back of the camp and then circled around through the woods towards Werrick’s flanks. They moved stealthily through the trees. With the enemy so close, the green maze of trees that encircled them was even more dangerous than usual.

“It’s not just enemy scouts or war parties we need to worry about. All this human activity and blood will have scared away some creature but attracted others,” Saeter told Blacknail as they stopped at a lookout point.

Below the shallow rocky overhang they were standing on, they could see a large stretch of thick vegetation. Neither of them saw any movement down there, so they both moved on.

It quickly became apparent that the enemy seemed to have little interest in moving off the road. They only ran into a single scout that had ventured into the forest. They trailed him carefully for a few minutes as he circled his own camp, but he never approached Herad’s base.

Other than that one man, they only saw a few bandits that had obviously been posted as sentries. They were positioned out among the trees and around Werrick’s army to warn them of attack. All and all, the enemy seemed more concerned with Herad’s band attacking them from ambush than entering the forest themselves.

“Let’s get a closer look at their encampment before we head back,” Saeter announced.

The pair were crouched down behind a fallen tree. A gully lay before them and it wound its way through the forest toward the road. They had just watched from concealment as a pair of sentries had made their way along it and back to their camp. Many of Werrick’s men were obviously using the gully as a path because its banks were covered in muddy footprints.

“There will be people watching,” Blacknail pointed out hopefully.

“You will just have to deal with them,” Saeter replied dryly.

“Good! Sounds like fun,” Blacknail exclaimed as he grinned and rubbed his hands together gleefully.

The hobgoblin then popped out of hiding and looked around. He didn’t see or hear anything, so he crept over to the path Werrick’s men had trampled. Saeter was right behind him, and together, they headed towards the road.

It was a few minutes before they spotted any sentries. Blacknail noticed them first. A woman with short curly brown hair and a black haired man were standing next to a large rock.

Blacknail signalled to Saeter and then slid up next to a tree. He peeked out from behind it, as he observed the humans. The enemy sentries had a good view of the surroundings. It would be difficult to sneak past them without having to circle quite a distance around.

“I’ll take care of them,” Blacknail said as he stepped forward.

“No bodies,” Saeter ordered him sternly.

A sigh of disappointment escaped Blacknail’s lips. That made things more complicated, but he still had an idea that could work. Why was his master so against having fun?

The hobgoblin made sure no one was looking in his direction, before dashing over to a clump of nearby bushes. He withdrew a stone from one of his pouches and threw it towards the sentries.

The small rock arced silently over the enemies’ heads and hit the bushes on the other side of them. The resulting rustling sound drew the sentries’ attention. While they were distracted, Blacknail slipped around to the side and behind another tree.

“Huh, it was probably just a bird,” one of the sentries told the other.

While they were still looking in the opposite direction, Blacknail threw another stone. This one hit the woman in the back of the head.

“Ow, did you just hit me with a rock?” she exclaimed angrily at the man as she rubbed the back of her head.

“What, no?” he replied in surprise.

“You’re the only one here,” she pointed out as she scowled at him.

“I didn’t hit you. I have no idea what you’re talking about,” the man answered.

“Fine, forget about it,” the woman huffed as she turned back to survey the forest in front of her.

The man did likewise. A few moments later, they both happened to look away from Blacknail’s hiding spot again. The hobgoblin threw another rock. This time it hit the man in the back of the head.

“Ow, shit. You hit me!” he growled at his companion. “I told you that I didn’t touch you! Don’t fucking hit me for no reason, bitch!”

The woman stiffened and then whirled towards the man. Her face was red with anger as she shoved a finger in his face.

“I didn’t do anything to you. You’re the one that hit me!” she hissed back.

“I fucking didn’t hit you, stop lying,” the man replied as he straightened up and glared at her.

As the two stupid humans argued among themselves, Blacknail signalled for Saeter to move. The old scout swiftly made his way over to the hobgoblin undetected. Neither of the sentries so much as glanced in his direction.

Once out of sight, Saeter led the way up the hill until the forest ended abruptly at the top of it. A stretch of bushes and a shallow ditch was all that lay between them, the road, and Werrick’s army.

Carefully, Blacknail stalked over to a thick bit of brush that would conceal him. Then, he nudged a branch aside and peeked out. Saeter moved up beside him.

Werrick’s men were everywhere. Some of them were only a dozen feet away. Troops stomped around as they performed their duties. A maze of blue tents filled the road and all the clear ground around it, until they stretched out of sight. There were hundreds of them.

Saeter tapped Blacknail to get his attention and pointed out a group of wagons. Half a dozen of them stood off to one side of the camp. Next to them, a line of horses were tied up. Blacknail eyed them suspiciously for a few seconds before moving on.

The next thing he saw that stood out was a huge pavilion. Its peaked tip towered over the other tents. And it looked wide enough to hold over a dozen men.

It was common sense that the biggest and fanciest quarters belonged to the chieftain, so the tent probably belonged to Werrick. The huge wolf head banner that flapped in the wind above it was also a clue.

There was no sign of anyone that fit Werrick’s description around, though. Blacknail frowned regretfully. He had wanted to catch a glimpse of the enemy chieftain he had heard so much about.

Another tap from Saeter drew the hobgoblin’s attention. This time the old scout pointed back the way they had come, so without wasting another moment, the pair withdrew. They slipped past the still arguing sentries and headed back to Herad to report.

Before they got halfway back, Blacknail caught an unsettling scent and froze in shock. His master immediately noticed his reaction and reached for his sword, but he stopped short of drawing it.

“What is it?” Saeter asked softly.

“I smell a troll,” Blacknail answered just as quietly.

“How recent?”

The hobgoblin sniffed the air again and took a moment to mull it over. The forest was full of animal and plant smells that he had to sort.

“A few hours,” he answered.

“It was probably attracted by the blood earlier. There’s no real need to worry, but let’s hurry back,” Saeter explained.

Blacknail nodded and started moving again. There was a new urgency in both his and Saeter’s steps as they walked, and they watched the forest around them more intently.

At their quicker pace, it didn’t take them very long to make their way back to Herad’s base. After greeting their own sentries, the pair headed directly over to talk to their chieftain. Blacknail wanted to take a nap, but his master was in a hurry for some reason.

Herad was resting in her cabin after the battle. As usual, two large guards stood outside the door. They immediately recognized Saeter and greeted him.

“She knows you’re here and will be out soon,” the closer one told the old scout.

Saeter nodded in reply as Blacknail took a seat on the ground. He didn’t feel like standing; Herad might be a while. Saeter threw the hobgoblin a disapproving look but didn’t say anything.

Before too long, the door of the cabin swung open with a creak and Herad stepped out. She was wearing a loose white shirt that was obviously fresh and her dark eyes looked tired as she glanced their way.

“What is it, old man? This had better be important,” she asked crankily.

“While out scouting, I got a good look at Werrick’s camp,” Saeter explained carefully.

“Oh?” Herad remarked with obvious interest.

“He has most his supplies loaded up onto several wagons that are parked next to each other. They’re only a few dozen feet from the edge of the forest. Obviously, his lookouts are sloppy too, since Blacknail and I got so close,” Saeter told her.

“You want to hit them,” Herad finished for him.

The bandit chieftain seemed intrigued by the idea but not convinced.

“I can lead a group through the forest before it gets dark. We’ll hit the wagons and set them ablaze before high-tailing it out of there. They won’t have time to react,” Saeter explained to her.

Herad considered the old scout’s words carefully for a few moments.

“I can give you twenty or thirty men, of which only half a dozen can be woodsmen,” she told the old scout.

“That will be fine. Blacknail and I can clear the way,” he replied.

“Do you need anything else?” Herad asked him.

“It would be nice to have some magic on this raid,” Saeter suggested. “There is no better or faster way to get things burning.”

“No, I’m not risking Mahedium,” Herad replied. “It’s not worth any of the possible gains.”

“Things will be a lot slower if we have to depend on torches and fire arrows. We might lose more men,” Saeter pointed out.

“Then, that’s what will happen,” Herad told him coldly as she leveled a heavy gaze his way.

Saeter sighed but nodded in compliance. Herad relaxed a little in response to his submission and her expression softened slightly. Blacknail smiled to himself. His master was actually doing the right thing for once!

“Let’s just bring Scamp, then,” the hobgoblin mused aloud.

“What?” both Saeter and Herad replied in surprise at the same time.

They threw each other a quick glance before turning back to the hobgoblin.

“Scamp can use magic. We could just take him,” Blacknail explained.

“The goblin can set things off, that doesn’t make him a mage,” Herad replied.

“All he needs to do is make some-ss crystals explode. We can just throw him at the wagons. It worked against the snake,” Blacknail suggested to his chief.

He was careful not to challenge her in any way or give her an excuse to take offence. Herad was both very violent and quite dangerous.

“We probably don’t need to actually throw the goblin,” Saeter pointed out.

“No, but it would be more fun,” Blacknail countered.

“Don’t remind me about that,” Herad said as her eyes narrowed. “If you want to consider this Saeter, then feel free, as long as Mahedium agrees. You can run the mission your way. I don’t want to hear anything more about exploding goblins.”

“As you wish,” Saeter quickly replied.

“Exactly. Now, is there anything else you want to bother me about?” she asked him.

“No, that’s everything,” the old scout responded.

“Good. Talk to Vorscha about getting any of the gear you need. I’ll make sure she knows to give it to you,” Herad said as she dismissed them with a wave of her hand.

The bandit chieftain then turned around, opened her cabin’s door, walked through, and slammed it shut in everyone’s faces. The guards to either side of it flinched at the unexpected noise.

“Well, that went a lot better than I thought it would,” Saeter told them.

The hobgoblin and his master then started over to talk to Mahedium. It didn’t take much to convince him. He was more than willing to give them some crystals, as long as he didn’t have to go anywhere near combat.

After that, they met with Varhs. He had no problem with Scamp joining their raid as long as he came as well. That was probably for the best, and Saeter readily agreed to it.

Finally, they talked to Vorscha about rounding up the men and equipment. This wasn’t a simple or quick process so Blacknail left it to Saeter. He went to find something to eat instead.

A couple of hours later, the raid was about to begin, but Blacknail had one more task to complete beforehand. The now sated hobgoblin got up and began sniffing around. He was looking for his lost minion.

It didn’t take him long to pick up a trail. Elyias seemed to wander around the camp a lot for some reason. The hobgoblin followed his scent over to a cluster of small ramshackle buildings. Behind them, Elyias was having a conversation with three other men. It didn’t look like he was having fun.

“We would like our money,” the first man said menacingly.

He was the tallest and most physically imposing of the group. His posture was both confident and aggressive, and the other two men beside him were obviously following his lead.

“Come one, fellows! It was just a few friendly games of dice!” Elyias replied nervously as he backed away. “You shouldn’t take it so seriously.”

“The money, now!” the man asked again.

His voice was cold and completely without camaraderie. Elyias grin stiffened and he paled upon hearing it.

“Just calm down, fellows. There’s an army attacking us right now! What good would money do you? You can’t spend it until we win, and then I’ll get paid and have more than enough to pay you back. There will be plenty of spoils for everyone!”

“You owe us now, not later. If you don’t have the metal then you can pay us back with labor. If we ask around I’m sure someone can find some way for you to work your debts off,” the large man replied with a dark chuckle as he gave Elyias an appraising look.

Elyias clearly found the attention uncomfortable and he gulped in fear. Sensing weakness, the large man began to reach for him, but he stopped at an unexpected noise.

“He’s busy,” Blacknail told the men as he smiled pleasantly.

His agreeable demeanor was somewhat ruined by the fact that he was standing less than a foot behind them, and they hadn’t heard him approach. All three men jumped in shock and whirled around. They flinched again when they took in the sight of the hobgoblin’s toothy grin.

“Hells, it’s the hobgoblin!” one of the men swore.

“What do we do?” another asked.

However, the leader quickly regained his composure. His look of surprise became an angry glare that he levelled at Blacknail. The hobgoblin could tell that this human considered himself to be an alpha, and that he was unlikely to back down. Joy!

“Listen, we’re going to get our money…” the man started to say, before his speech was interrupted by a high pitched squeak that whistled forth from between his own lips.

Blacknail continued smiling as he stared into the man’s wide trembling eyes. No one spoke. After a few tense moments, the hobgoblin loosened his grip on the man’s groin. His sharp claws slid free from flesh as he relaxed them slightly.

“Mine,” Blacknail explained as he pointed towards Elyias.

“Go away,” he added a second later. “Or would-ss you rather lose all the little bits of meat I can take without killing you?”

Blacknail let completely go of the man’s privates. A hasty moment later, all three men were flat out running away. The hobgoblin watched them for a second before turning to his minion.

“Ha, thanks, I guess,” Elyias told him as he smiled in relief. “That was just a small misunderstanding.”

“Come with me,” Blacknail replied as he began to walk away.

His minion frowned and bit his lip. It didn’t look like he wanted to come, but he wasn’t stupid enough to believe he had a choice either.

“What are we doing?” he asked uncertainly as he hurried after Blacknail.

“A mission,” the hobgoblin replied pleasantly.

With his minion in tow, Blacknail walked over to the corner of the camp where Saeter was preparing to leave. The old scout had over twenty men around him and they were all armed and ready for a fight. Dusk had started to fall so the nearby forest was dark and ominous.

“Why is there a greenhorn following you around?” Saeter asked the hobgoblin as he approached.

“I volunteer him for the mission. He should be in the front,” Blacknail told his master.

“Sure,” Saeter replied indifferently as he turned to face Elyias.

“Try not to die, lad,” the old scout told him before turning away.

“I will do that…” Elyias replied uncertainly.

No one was listening, though. Both Saeter and Blacknail had already otherwise preoccupied themselves. Elyias groaned and threw longing look back towards the way he had come. He stayed put, though, reluctantly.

“Where are we going?” Elyias asked as he looked around.

It took a few seconds for one of the bandits to reply.

“We’re launching an attack on the enemy,” a man with savage scar across his face answered.

Elyias paled. He looked around again and counted the nearby bandits. It didn’t take him long, although he paused for a second when he noticed Scamp sitting next to Varhs.

“By ourselves?” he asked.

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