It was noon on the sixth day of the siege and Scratch was overseeing the battlefield.

His seat was an elevated chair with an overhang for shade, it was similar in appearance to a lifeguard's tower or that of a tennis umpire.

From where he sat he could just about oversee the entire grassland between him and the gates. Including the small retinue of human horseback riders speeding to the south in full gallop. They were trying to surprise the southern siege camp during the day, when they would be asleep and in their tents, with a sudden ambush.

He lifted a spellrod to his face. The fire spellrod would not do anything from this range, and the demon familiar on his forearm taxed his body too much to even use it very often. Instead, he'd procured a new one from his resourceful bandit allies. A spell just for this sort of situation.

"Camp Sierra, eyes peeled. Enemy approaching. I repeat, enemy approaching." His voice boomed over the land in the tone of an old timey radio announcer. The way the spell worked, the rod would magnify anything spoken into it like a microphone.

He then flopped over and stuck the rod down, where a helpful warg wolf leaned its front paws against the chair and barked into it, repeating about the same message for any wolves in the southern camp.

The wolf was relatively young, having spend most of its life in symbiosis with the goblins of the Promise it had come to understand them. After it'd earned its position as translator Scratch had officially named it Saca, being unsure of its gender.

Sure enough, from where he sat he could see the goblins crawling out of their tents and picking up their weapons. This attack by the humans too would prove to be futile.

-

Feeling satisfied with his directions for the moment Scratch climbed down from his spot.

He petted Saca and left him alone to go for a walk.

The camp around him had adopted a leisurely slow lifestyle. Most of the day was spend doing nothing, conserving energy for the next attack by the knights.

It was an infectious lethargy, sleepy.

He came across Huckabee napping in the midday sun. "Staying vigilant are we?"

The bandit didn't open his eyes. "If there's horses coming I'll hear them. What's for dinner?"

The goblin kicked him, not that there was much strength behind it. "We've got some forest game send here from the territories. And more carrier pigeon, you'd think they'd run out of them by now."

At that news Huckabee did open one eye. "So the enemy has tried to call for backup again."

"If they ever succeed we're done for."

"Can you catch them all?"

"That's why I'm saying they've gotta run outta them soon."

Huckabee uprighted himself. "Are we still going through with the plan tomorrow?"

"Of course," the goblin fished a cigarette out from under his sleeve, "if they stop requesting supplies that's as good as an S.O.S."

The bandit looked unsure.

"Listen," Scratch said soothingly, "the suppliers are allies of ours. They're with the thieves' guild. Nobody will have any reason to suspect you aren't a knight, it'll be fine. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go find a light."

-

It being mid-day there were no torches or sconces about. To light his cigarette and start his communion with Cyclophan he sought out Lydia Harkness and her fire magic.

He found her outside, using the light of the sun to read. There was a slight bump in her stomach, practically undetectable, another goblin pregnancy.

Shielding his eye from the sun he began to make small talk. "Watcha reading there?"

She looked up. "You're here faster than expected."

"Oh, you send for me?"

"Take a look at this." She handed him the paper, it was a letter written in cursive.

"Can we go inside? I can't see anything with the sun shining in my eye."

"...Sure."

She brought him to her tent. It wasn't as furnished as it had been when it served as her permanent home, only a bedroll and an oil lamp were inside. Scratch had seen the insides before, the woman kept him close by.

"Let's see here..." he held up the page with one hand and showed her the cigarette with the other. "Hhm, cursive."

"Our interception from this morning." Harkness lit the tip of the fag with her finger. "One of the earlier ones must have gotten through, the addressee is a commander approaching the fort for a liberation."

It's a lie. Cyclophan stated in a deadpan manner. **They intended for you to intercept that.**

"It's a lie." Scratch repeated. "That's exactly the kind of trick they need to make us move out."

"How can you be so certain?" She wanted to know.

"Take a good look at the contents of that letter. What justifies its existence? When they know their communications are being intercepted."

She scanned it again. It was filled with military formality, nothing urgent or vital for an army that was already well on its way.

The knights are becoming desperate.

"The knights are becoming desperate."

Soon they'll attempt something drastic.

"Soon they'll attempt something drastic."

More dark magic is in order.

"More- I think we should be prepared for anything."

"Yes..." She agreed in principle but didn't show much urgency. "For now, all their avenues of attack are closed off."

"If the guy with the hairdo were here," he said, referring to You-There whose hair obscured half his face, "he'd say that that's where the danger lies. A boxed in enemy is the hardiest."

"They can't defeat us in the field." She said. "They can't contact help or trick us. And they can't outlast us either."

His mouth moved to the side of his face. "They're whittling away at us. Goblins aren't half as effective trying to fight in this damn heat. Your dad knows exactly when to make his attack."

"They can do those things repeatedly due to healing magic." She explained. "Their healers' mana will dry up soon."

"Just in time for the pyromancer's to come back." He noted.

"Yes. If only we'd landed that decisive blow. We-"

He gave her a stern look and she shut up.

"Let's look to the future, not the past." He said. Then he took his cigarette back to his shaded chair.

-

Saca had met up with another wolf and they were having their own conversation underneath his spot.

He didn't interrupt them and climbed up to continue his conversation with Cyclophan.

Nothing untoward happening at home? He inquired.

Your vassals are becoming bolder, but they're not threatening the dungeon.

Bolder? Bolder how?

Claiming territory, resources. Your rules have been disobeyed and adventurers have been executed.

I see. That's within reasonable parameters I suppose.

The underground walls have helped channel the flow of magic better. Except for that infernal dockyard of yours.

You don't like the sea port? We need it open to be an alternative smuggle route.

My magic leaks out.

Why can't it leak in? It does with the opening on top.

It would with a better monster ecosystem. If you gave me a stronger boss on the lower floor, that would guide it in.

Stronger than the windwolf who lives above?

Who has been gone for days I should mention.

You'll survive. What about Lacrima? Isn't she raising a stink about the armor being gone?

She's distracted. You know those twins that got rid of the other guild leader?

Yes?

They're not too scared of this one either. They're threatening anyone high or low about finding a magic amulet.

Well, some good news then.

For now. I worry about the thieves discovering the dungeon.

Why?

Dark sorcerers use dungeons to guard treasure. If they think Lacrima is keeping their bauble here, they might take... measures.

Measures, huh?

Yes. Measures. Please come back, bring some stronger monsters, use the devil altar again. I want my dungeon master in my dungeon.

I don't want to drag this out too much either. It'll be one more week, at most.

The next day Huckabee and Audace rode towards the city of Eston.

Their carts were second-hand and foreign, thinly painted in more knightly colors, and their horses were low bred plow horses.

The longer Huckabee sat on the stocky spotted creature the more crude and peasantly it seemed to him. He thought about how out of place he had to seem himself, a slack-jawed yokel in a looted knight's garb.

Audace, in contrast, seemed perfectly fitted for a knight's role. He was tall, broad, and with a silent dignity.

Perhaps the contrast would make the ruse even more transparent.

-

Huckabee forgot his agonizing when he came in view of Eston.

It had been years since he last saw civilization, and he was in awe at the powerful blocky architecture of Eston's red bauxite.

A defensive wall surrounded the city, but it was not tall enough to obstruct the multi-storied buildings from view.

As far as cities went, Eston wasn't particularly large, but to Huckabee it was enormous. The amount of people that lived there dwarfed the number of bandits living in the promise many times over, it rivaled the goblins' numbers in size.

Audace was completely stoic.

-

To load up the knights' provisions came Mabel and a few of her minions.

Huckabee was about to dismount but the guild leader hissed angrily at him. "Sit still you imbecile, do you think knights occupy themselves with manual labour? And keep your back straight."

From a distance children and idle adults had gathered to look at the knights that had come to visit. If they saw anything out of the ordinary it wouldn't be a problem immediately, but it would create difficult questions later.

Huckabee waved nervously at the crowd.

"All done." One of Mabel's lackeys told her.

"By Benesant, if we had these crown-backed orders every week we wouldn't need the guild." She laughed.

"Let's get rid of them quickly." The other said.

"Wait, one more thing. You two tell Lydia there are high ranking adventurers coming to Eston to visit the witchwood."

Huckabee racked his brain trying to understand where she was going with this. "...So?"

"So? So now that there's a knight fort they'll probably try making a stop there on the way."

Huckabee's face clenched. "Can't you get rid of them?"

"Not these ones. You need a cover story to get rid of high-ranking adventurers. We can stall them, but I'd give you three days to disappear. After that, they turn the tide of battle, they flee and alert the town, I don't know."

"That... we can't."

"You should have known this would happen, you can't wage a war in secret. Now go."

-

The way back was not much different from the way there.

Although the mission had been completed successfully, Huckabee felt no less anxious.

"T-that business with the adventurers. It won't be that big of a problem will it?" He asked Audace.

"Hhm."

"I mean, we've fought adventurers before. In the camp we always had to kill them before they fled and told the town about it. We can do the same here, right?"

"Si."

"Si, so you agree. I mean an army is bigger and noticeable from further away, but in principle it's the same, right?"

"Hhm."

Somehow, he didn't feel put at ease by his traveling partner.

-

When they arrived at the camp they were quickly surrounded by dogs and goblins taking supplies and spreading it around to different siege camps.

As soon as Huckabee noticed Scratch in the crowd he approached him with a slightly hurried pace and told him what the guild leader had told him.

"Eh? Thash fine, ishn't it?" Scratch noted with his mouth full. "We can jush kill em."

"That's very much the question." Suddenly Lydia Harkness had appeared next to them. "Normal adventurers have no business in any region overseen by knights. Their mission is either specific or very high level."

Huckabee flinched. "How high?"

"In the witchwood? Likely rank C."

Scratch swallowed his food. "Did you know this could happen when you proposed the strategy?"

"It was very unlikely. How many days did she give us?" She asked Huckabee.

"Only three. Do we have to give up the siege now?"

She shook her head. "If we do that they'll follow us with a strike force and pick us off while we're trying to flee."

Scratch massaged his temples. "I can't fucking believe this... you people. Listen, we'll pretend to take the bait, right?"

"The fake letter?"

"Right, we act like we're forming a front against the west, let them ride out. We circle around and surprise their outriders, take a couple of hostages, and use those as a bargaining chip for a safe getaway."

"Is that viable?" Harkness wanted know.

"Not as viable as starving them another week, but apparently we don't have that luxury."

"Won't a lot of goblins get killed this way?" Huckabee said.

Scratch looked at him angrily and turned to leave, off to enact the plan.

There was a draft in the living quarters above the gathering hall. The construction of the fort had never been completed in full.

Stella Darcy was feeding her infant mush with a wooden spoon.

If the goblin threat had been properly assessed they wouldn't have been here. Generally commanders do not move their families in in any fortress that are at risk of being taken.

There were approximately fifteen different knight families represented in the Eston fortress.

Unscarred newly graduated knights carrying the hope for the future of their dynasties.

And a handful of veteran commanders there to administer the youths' first genuine missions.

The man massaging her shoulders, Jacob Darcy, belonged to the second category. A mature and respectable adult, even if he was closer in age to the rookies than he was to her.

Stella had managed to elevate her station by proving capable as an adventurer and marrying into nobility.

It'd taken years to turn adventuring into a full-time career, and many perilous adventures to become rank D. By that time she was already middle aged.

After successfully marrying into knighthood and conceiving a child she could almost be said to be an old woman.

"Come now Lily, eat up for mama." She sighed.

The whole army was rationing. Special exceptions could be made for the families of the commanders. But without new supplies what they had was spoiling and she had to feed her baby potato with sugar.

Lily gagged at first, but overcome with hunger herself she managed to swallow.

"This cannot go on." She complained.

"It won't." Her husband soothed her. "Do you remember my disinformation scheme? It seems to have worked."

She turned around to face him. "In earnest? The goblins are leaving?"

He nodded but then added nuance. "A significant portion has broken away to face the western front, the others should not put up as much of a fight to prevent our escape. Likely, the bandits controlling them will be leading the charge west."

"Won't they be prepared for us to try something?"

"Hopefully they'll expect us to coordinate with the reinforcements, not break away completely."

His words had too many 'shoulds' in them to give her confidence, but it was Jacob that had studied as a knight, not her.

"We're going to survive this Stella," he assured her, "tomorrow at dawn the entire fortress sets out. The advance riders will raid and pillage their camp for food, and the rearguard will protect you and the other families. You and Lily will never be in danger during all of this, I promise."

"Thank you Jacob."

"It's only my duty."

She leaned in to kiss his mouth, but he turned his head to plant his lips on her cheek. He'd lost attraction to her, if he ever had it. She felt like an ancient crone when he did that.

-

Sure enough, early in the morning all residents of the fortress were summoned together in the main hall.

"Listen up!" Captain Harkness declared. He couldn't use his voice amplifying magic in fear the enemy would hear it, so he had to shout his throat hoarse trying to make himself heard over the rumble of the crowd. "Everybody quiet!"

The young adults fell silent at his furious rage.

"Today is a chance for you lot to finally be heroes. The enemy is distracted and we will launch a full-on assault. Enough for sick and wounded to escape."

"We're sacrificing our lives to at least save the women and children, is that it?" One of the men not that far from Stella commented, not that far below speaking volume.

"Don't question the captain," his neighbor hissed at him.

"Now comes the measure of a true man!" The captain continued, picking up on the thread. "To put oneself at risk for the safety of the meek and vulnerable is the exaltation and purpose of any true knight. Those that fight here today.

Whether they live or die. Will have proven themselves men."

His speech left out the female population of knights, which made up almost half its number. But in front of him the chest of James Rochast, one of the rookies, swelled with pride. This was his chance to become a hero. If he died, that would only be more heroic.

Hopefully his death would not be at the hands of some goblin grunts, but against a bandit general. Although... if he were to fight a general he'd rather win.

"We will form three attack squadrons, and one escort squadron." The captain droned on while pacing in front of the knights. "I will divide you now. Rochasts."

He pointed at James and Fiona. "You two will be escorts."

"Wait a minute!" James fell out.

"Do not question me. On to the next, first squadron..."

Unperturbed the captain continued to assign roles. Leaving the belligerent youth will balled-up fists from anger.

-

The others were jealous of them, but Fiona knew James wanted to challenge Harkness on the assigned roles. So she held on to his shoulder after the speech to keep him nearby.

James unceremoniously pushed her away and followed the commander into a private hallway.

"What is-"

The captain pulled out a knife, seemingly out of nowhere and pushed it against the youth's throat, pushing him against the wall. "Do you know I could have you executed for insubordination, you brat?"

The brat looked him in the eyes defiantly. "I belong on the attack squad. You're holding me back from being a hero. Out of some petty-"

Angrily Harkness bashed his back against the wall and pulled the knife away angrily. "Your parents have suffered enough grief because of me. I won't let you two die on them as well."

James gritted "I refuse to live a coward's life. Our enemy is here right now if we don't-"

"It's not about you." The superior pointed the knife at him. "If you really were a hero your glory would come second to the weak and vulnerable. You're on the escort team and that's that. Any more lip and you can be send out as a deserter."

And that was that. Moments later the Rochasts were riding out in front of Stella and the others to bring them home safely.

Neither army was a single unified mass.

The goblins were divided into camps, each guarding territory to zone out the knights and keep them trapped.

The knights were divided into travelling parties, moving units that took the fight to the enemy.

The past few days only the mounted cavalry had moved outside the fortress, for quick raids, but now the entire might of the fortress was mobilized at once.

Three attack squadrons, each containing many dozens of knights, with a variety of skillsets, spread out towards the east. They set out to chase away the entrenched enemy to the left and the right, opening a path for their fourth party to escape through.

Meanwhile, the northern and southern camps were uprooting and moving east to help the temporarily weakened easter camp.

And the goblin forces that had started the day moving to the west were actually moving to the north and around the fortress. They hadn't expected their enemy to completely abandon their position and were still cautious of the space controlled by the fortress.

In order to bite at the heels of the outgoing heavy infantry and lure back the cavalry to be trapped between the camp and the moving goblin throng, the warg riders sped ahead to where they expected the backline of the human army to be.

It was to their surprise that they found the Rochasts escorting non-combatants.

-

It was early and the sun shone in the eyes of both goblin and wolf when they came near the human silhouettes.

Two mounted figures were etched clearly against the white morning sun, the others showed a more blobby and bulky mess of shadows, a background of carts and mules.

"Are you lost?" Scratch wondered out loud. "Or did the army send out its supply train by accident?"

"Isn't that voice...?" The female knight began. "... you know, their commander."

"They all look the same." The man said dismissively.

"No, no. With the eyepatch, he's the one that burned down our payload. I'm certain of it."

"I see... then it's time for payback."

"Can't we go around them?" Fyro whispered in Scratch's ear.

"Why would we?" Scratch said out loud. "Don't stick to an old plan when a better opportunity presents itself. Bullying these losers has all the same effects we're looking for, and it's easier."

He wasn't paying attention to his front, but he hardly needed to, since his mount made all the decisions for him. She deftly stepped aside when the man came barging through thrusting pointed weapon as tall as a man.

A hot gust of air shook the goblins as James Rochast and his fiery lance thundered between them.

"Christ! Did you feel that? You'd lose your hand just touching it." Scratch yelled out. "And I don't have the fire thing, damn. I was so happy with the microphone I let them take it off me."

"Dammit, stand still!" The lance-wielding knight traced figures eight through the scattered warg riders trying to pin them. Propelled by the primal fear of fire the wolves jumped and scurried out of the way.

In the panicked dance the goblins were hardly able to properly aim their slings and crossbows, what did by chance fly in the right direction was shrugged off by the knight's steel plating.

"They're evasive!" Fiona laughed at him. "This is when you use your magic. See here!" She spread out her arms beside her body and mumbled something to the effect of 'Rhada's cage'. Rotating circles of runes appeared beneath her, and a number of red lines began to snake over the ground, shooting yellow flame into the air wherever they went.

Where the lines intersected boxed in areas were created, trapping several goblins in tiny cells.

"Hey, let us go!" Second demanded.

"Shut up." James let go of his lance with his left hand and lifted it up for a spell. "Finally we get to kill something."

Scratch's amplified voice boomed behind them. "Didn't you forget something?"

Some quick side glances confirmed that they had not been ambushed or snuck up on, so with unfettered focus the knights maintained their magic. James began his mumbling, "Dronk-"

"Hey wonder twins!" He was louder this time and emphasized his words by amplifying the crying sound of an infant through the spellrod.

That caught their attention and they turned around.

Wendy sat on top of one of the younger kids, her claw pushing her head into the grass. He had stuck his microphone towards the old mother, Stella, whose infant was bawling her eyes out. "Yeah. A hostage, maybe pay more attention next time." He was barely looking at them, busy giving the other non-combatants the stink eye to dissuade them from doing anything heroic.

The siblings looked at each other uneasily. They didn't really believe that the goblin was going to let the civilians live, but perhaps something could be done to save them if they let it believe they were going along with the plan.

"Now you're getting it," Scratch smiled, "if the tool you have doesn't work you use something else. The goal is to immobilize more that it is to bleed anyway."

James raised an eyebrow. "What are you talking abou-" Immediately he was struck in the head by a bolas that spun over his eyes. The goblins had flourished their enveloping weapons and were pelting the two with an overkill of bolases and nets.

The fire cage disappeared and they quickly moved in to properly tie them up and prevent further magic from being cast.

-

There was nowhere on the flat open plain for anybody to run.

The two escort knights were tied up and the mules had been disconnected from their carts.

The civilians had been captured.

Now it was only a matter of making them understand that.

The average child was on equal strength to a goblin, and most spouses were ex-adventurers themselves. Sure, the goblins had their wolves, but the humans were with more.

"Got off me!" The kid that had just been pinned by a wolf demanded as she tore herself away from Fyro's grip and added herself to the huddle of defiant hostages.

"In a few minutes a warband of more than a hundred bloodthirsty goblins is going to arrive." Scratch moved his hands excessively while talking. "What do you want to be, a prisoner or an enemy combatant?"

"You stay away from us." A man said. "And you let those two knights go."

"Or. What?" Scratch asked, making it sound like a genuine, and rather desparate question. Wendy growled to help him intimidate. "What room can you possibly have to make demands?"

He didn't answer and Scratch sighed in desperation. "Fine. Let's make an example out of someone. Second, hand me a crossbow."

A crossbow appeared in his hand and he fired it directly into the crowd, striking the man who'd just spoken in the shoulder. The man grunted through clenched teeth.

"I don't enjoy this you know. I don't think it's fun." He fired another bolt, this one missed completely. "But if you're not afraid of me, what am I supposed to do, huh?"

His random shooting into the huddled mass caused them to panic and disperse, allowing the goblins to grab them individually and tie them up.

"Well, all's well that ends well." He decided. "Any healers in this crowd? I think the guy with the big mouth can use one."

Suddenly a powerful bang eminated from between the humans, Fyro lay on the ground clutching his chest as the elderly mother held her baby away from him.

One of her legs was lifted up and exposed underneath her long skirt. It'd had just collided with a goblin's ribcage at high speed, cracking it like a walnut.

"Fyro!" Second rushed up to the younger goblin. "No Fyro! Where's that healer?! There's a healer here, kill them if they don't heal him!"

"Hah!" The mother boasted. "It may have been a long time ago, but I was an adventurer once. A martial artist. Don't underestimate a mother's-"

Four crossbow bolts shot into her torso in quick succession, a fifth one entered her eye not long after. She was dead before shit the ground, the infant made an ugly fall and hurt something, but it couldn't possibly be crying any harder than it already was.

Second turned Fyro over on his back, trying to inspect the damage. Fyro's eyes were starting to glaze over as he searched with his hand to find comfort. "I... can't breathe..."

"Help him!" Second demanded. "Somebody help him!"

The humans were concerned with their own dying and her child, while the goblins stood around akwardly.

Scratch kneeled down next to the two and held on to Fyro's flailing hand. "Shhh."

"Papa..." Fyro suddenly used the term of endearment his younger siblings used on him. "Papa... I can't see anything... up ahead. It's so dark."

Scratch looked at Second and then back at him. "It is dark, but some of your uncles..." he hesitated in completing the story, "some of your uncles have gone ahead. They're lighting a big fire, making camp... Right, second?"

Second nodded. "That's right. First, and Teeth... you don't know them but- but there's Dumb, and you'll meat Scream,

Laugh and Digger again, right?"

Fyro was silent, dead.

Now that the consciousness was gone Scratch had no sympathy for the lifeless body and promptly stood up.

Second stayed behind to cry.

The goblin patriarch walked up to the man who'd picked up the infant and ripped it out of his hands. He was the weaker person, but having just witnessed death the other was slightly listless. Though others gasped with protective instincts.

"Two deaths for this thing huh?" He scoffed. "How old is it? It hasn't been baptized yet, has it?" Then he gave it to Wendy. "Can you hold this without eating it?"

The wolf took the scruff of the infant's cloth gently in its maw, but immediately delegated the task to the first packmate she saw.

"Monster!" James Rochast yelled at him. "You vile creature you-"

Scratch walked up to him real close and leaned into his personal space, inspecting him top to bottom. "Why do you seem so familiar to me?" He then took some distance and held a wolf's tail in front of the man's face, obscuring the eyes. "I see... Lydia will be riding in soon, along with our main force."

The knight's eyes widened and his jaw clenched.

War Negotiation

All battles between civilized people end with negotiations. Once the outcome of an all-out struggle is understood, rather than fight to the bitter end the two sides work out their differences based on the established power dynamic.

Negotiation between sides in a battle falls upon the highest ranking acting commanders. Generally, adventurers recruited into the war effort are not authorized to speak on behalf of the liege.

Only because of the honorable nature of noble houses can agreements made during warfare be trusted. Prisoners are exchanged, the dead are buried, and the defeated army can be allowed passage home through contested territory without fear of trickery or double-crossing.

In contrast, battles with intelligent but monstrous armies can not end in negotiations. Because neither side can suffer the other to live, battles are fought until one army is exterminated.