Goblin Tide

Lord Pocong snarled on the throne, his bloodshot eyes bulging as if the blood vessels within wanted to explode. He ground his teeth until they grated. The goblin leader breathed heavily, his rage threatening to explode from this humiliation.

The goblin captains storming into the chamber reflected his thoughts. They spat curses and swore vengeance against the viciousness of humanity. Not willing to admit goblin superiority, the humans had the audacity to barge into his camp and butcher his fighters.

Imagine the nerve of these humans. Just when Lord Pocong prepared himself for war and sought to create a legend of his own, the humans interrupted his crowning speech by sending in a suicide party. The fighting had been ferocious, with the humans slicing and dicing the raging goblins.

If wasn't for continuous waves of goblins that battered the humans as they scoured the tunnels, then the goblins might have faced a humiliating defeat. Luckily the goblins possessed greater numbers and fought the battle on their own turf. A bloodied goblin limped into the chamber reflecting the bitterness of the skirmish.

"This lowly slug greets Lord Pocong. The humans have been routed, we butchered them all before they could escape. A scout reported that they have a small encampment on the edge of the clearing. Awaiting the Lord's order!"

The goblin reported, spitting out a tooth from a swollen mouth. A human fist had clobbered him when he had bitten into the sword arm.

"Outrageous! Humans dare to suppress this Lord's legend? We will not let this despicable act go unpunished. Ready the warriors to attack."

Lord Pocong raged.

"Should we ambush the human camp?"

"No, we instill the fear of our race. Spread word, Goblin Tide... we sweep the farm then the village."

Lord Pocong sneered while hopping off the throne in full battle gear.

"Someone find me that damn scout!"

He roared.

***

The Patriarch of House Prickus sighed under the shade. The trees had shed half their load, but the branches still held enough leaves to block out the evening sun. Getsum Prickus felt he had literally struck gold during this expedition. If everything proceeded as planned, by tomorrow he would secure the boy inventor and also own a gold mine.

Lack of exercise in the city, caused his leg to cramp so currently he sat on a rock with his legs outstretched. A guard kneeled beside him while massaging his legs and thighs. He had removed the cumbersome leather armor and only wore a thin underpants. Another guard stood nearby, fanning away the few bugs.

"Hmmm... It seems that the boy's assumption has some grain of truth in it since the captain is taking this long. The only possibility I could think of is that the mines run deep, making it difficult for him to subdue those little beasts."

He licked his lips on dreaming about such a huge find. Patriarch Prickus suddenly had a bold idea.

"Remember to have some guards haul some of the wholesome looking corpses. It would be for the best if the Captain captures live goblins. Gifting them as favors to the other Houses would catapult my House to fame. Remember to pick out a couple for my own personal entertainment. Hurry and send a message."

Getsum Prickus showered himself with self-praise. By gifting these creatures of legend to higher nobles, he would lead his House to even greater heights. Maybe the older families in the Capital might have remnant goblin slaves from times past, but who would not want to boast by displaying fresh slaves?

He looked towards the hilltop as he imagined the foreseeable gold mine.

"Ahh... yes, that's the spot. Oh, don't forget to have someone use a goblin arrow to kill the boy. Might as well tie up the loose ends while out here... Huh?"

Getsum Prickus narrowed his eyes, squinting at the erupting hilltop. In the clearing, the barren hill and weathered rocks soon gradually became overrun by small agile figures. They poured out from the suspected cave entrance, spilling down the hill or crawling to the crown.

This black wave with a tinge of green encompassed the entire hill. The Patriarch stared dumbfounded on the sheer numbers that carpeted the rocks, while his hair raised on his skin. An eerie high-pitched chant soon reached a crescendo, that had him jumping and gingerly stepping backward.

The chants abruptly stop.

A horrifying silence.

Then the tide skittles in his direction.

"Bloody Hell!"

***

Ming wanted to breathe through his mouth, so as to bypass the disgusting stench permeating his skin. His mouth refused to open, however, unwilling to allow any of the suspected 'grease' to enter. He removed his fingers pinching his nose while sniffing out of curiosity the mud on his hand.

The smell confirmed his fears, placing him into another dangerous predicament-- retch or subdue the action by placing the hand over his mouth. If he had a sword, he would have no hesitation in bursting out. Swallowing his bile, he calmed himself. Since he could not understand the loud chatter occurring in the cave, his next option lay in scrutinizing this little goblin hiding alongside him.

Ming eyed the little guy huddling in the darkness, blinking his eyes as the shadowy figure became clearer. His eyes prowled over the creature, while his fingers clenched the dagger. Like a coiled spring, he waited for the anticipated yelling.

Pug conducted a similar scan of the teen beside him, his body coiled to escape on any signs of aggression. Today, the Bones seem to have granted him horrible bad luck.

The recently demoted goblin had exited the cavern with a loaded scoop, only to find a horde of human warriors engaged in a killing spree.

Suffering from the trauma of facing humans, his special ability manifested. Pug ran screaming down the tunnels, towards the gathering of the goblin vanguard. He screamed his warning and wanted to reach Lord Pocong, but then remembered his current standing.

On entering the cavern, Pug took one look at the contorting face of the General and zipped passed. Witnessing the skirmish near the entrance, he sought a place to hide. He entered the vacant war room and hid behind the throne. Months of accumulated filth prevented his smell from being detected.

Pug soon realized, however, that he was not the only one so daring, because a human also joined him possessing the same fortitude. When their eyes locked together, their minds seem to click in comradery. After all, only kindred spirits would have the balls to jump into a pile of waste together.

Ming released his nose again and pointed at the fat butt squatting above on the skin covered seat. He then covered his eyes as if hiding, then pointed to himself. Pug stared at the small human, before making a slight nod. The goblin repeated the same action, depicting that he also hid from the goblin general.

Ming pointed at the throne, then his head. Maybe this goblin was a leader?

Pug nodded this time with vigor. Pointed to the throne and his head. He saw the boy repeat his actions. Together they both rolled their eyes in frustration at the same time. That action cemented the new bond between the two fugitives.

The sign language halted when Pug heard the command for a Goblin Tide, followed by the roar to find him. He placed a finger on his lips, refusing to engage in the little sign language. Only on the departure of the goblins, did he sigh in relief.

Alone in the cave, he turned to the human, while his beating heart raced on realizing the new danger.

***

Getsum Prickus struggled for breath, blowing hard while his legs continued pumping. His arms swung like a pendulum, with one hand gripping a sword, as if he tried to use the motion to propel himself forward. Dried branches snapped under his pounding boots, not caring about attracting predators.

When Lord Pocong appeared on the hilltop and stopped the chant, the goblin avalanche descended.

"Goblin Tide."

"Goblin Tide."

The shrill screams echoed out as the goblins spread out like chaff in the wind. A Goblin Tide swept like a wave, encompassing a large area as the goblins streamed from the clearing rushing eastwards into the forest. Like fanatics under the high of some major drugs, they fanned out, seeking to decimate any prey along their path.

At the front of this tsunami, the frail figures of House Prickus tried to escape.

Around him, ran the guards of his House. Of the twenty guards, five had deserted their oath of protecting their Patriarch, blazing a trail into the forest on witnessing the horde. The remaining loyal guards fanned around their leader, running knowingly to their deaths.

A goblin pounced on a guard at the rear of the loose formation, stabbing a dagger into his back. As both of them tumbled and rolled on the multicolored floor, six goblins jumped onto the man. The shouting and screaming ceased soon after.

Another guard on witnessing the sight turned around in despair and cleaved a pouncing goblin into two, with his two-handed sword. Before the guard could regain his stance after an attack that would have paralyzed normal foes, four goblins hurled themselves at him without a shred of fear.

Lunging stabs from the front, side, and rear, coupled with sneak attacks from goblins skittering along the floor assailed him.

The guard gurgled his last breath from a slit throat as he toppled over, aided by the goblins locking his legs. One by one, the goblins swarmed the men, overwhelming them through sheer numbers. Blood and entrails soon littered the floor adding to its brilliance.

The forest accepted the sacrifices from both sides in willing silence. In the end, they served the same purpose-- nutrients for a new life.

A Goblin Tide, whether in the forest or grasslands, spelled certain death to opponents of lesser numbers. It was useless to leave a rear guard as a chance to escape. This was because the goblins would simply swarm around them crushing the escapees in a pincer-like formation.

"Arggh!"

Getsum Prickus screamed as an arrow buried itself in his calf. He toppled to the ground, screaming in fear rather than pain. Another bounced off his small iron breastplate strapped across his heart. Getsum, crawled backward, on his butt, until his back hit a fallen log. His underpants lay in tatters, torn from the desperate escape.

All his men had been butchered completely.

As for the ones who left him, he took consolation in the fact that they would soon join his fate. Within the forest, these goblins moved like grease, slithering across the landscape unimpeded. He screamed as an arrow flickered from a tree, nailing his hand on the ground.

The wounded man hollered in pain as he dropped his weapon that served more as a comfort than a means of defense.

A few goblins surrounded him, snarling and spitting with hate and anticipation. The semicircle soon opened a path, as a larger more ugly goblin walked through.

"Is this the leader of the vile raiding party?"

Lord Pocong curled his lips and asked. The goblin chatter grew louder on seeing a powerhouse of their race.

"You have entered my camp, butchered my warriors. Now face death, lowly worm. Soon your worthless friends in that bothersome farm will join you."

Poor Getsum Prickus never had the opportunity to complain he did not speak Goblin.

The burly goblin wasted no time in swing down his large two-handed sword. The blade sliced an arm off completely. As the blood sprayed out, and the man cried in agony, a goblin grabbed the severed arm and slapped the Patriarch repeatedly on the face.

Getsum Prickus never expected to encounter such a horrific death. The large goblin did not kill him immediately but instead took pride in humiliating him. They severed his arms and legs, slapped him awake when he fainted with his own limbs and even had the audacity to shove a foot up his ass.

Lord Pocong admired his handiwork before riling the spectating goblins onwards. The power of the Tide came from numbers and the fanatical thirst. With a heaving chest and a glazed eye, the patriarch witnessed the sword descend for the last time, as it severed his head.

By now the goblins at the front of the tide would have probably reached the forest edge. Since the General decided to storm the farm, razing it to the ground, the goblins had no need to wait till nightfall. The suicide human party had upped the timeline for his attack. A surprise counter-attack would have the farmers speechless and unprepared.

"Goblin Tide! We will stew some humans and eat our fill before the raids begin tonight. Goblin Tide!"

"Goblin Tide!"

"To the mighty General!"

Lord Pocong ignored the kiss-ass in the group, beginning his run towards the grasslands. Once he reached the forest edge, he, like the rest of the goblins would explode from under the forest and then submerge the farm under their unstoppable wave. The wave would turn into an arrowhead aimed at the lone bastion.

Within the forest...

Far in front of the wave, a girl zipped between the trees, following a marked path towards the farm. Even with watery eyes her speed far exceeded that of the frenzied creatures.

She had witnessed the boy enter the cave, only for a host of goblins to erupt.

They had never anticipated the goblin numbers to be this great. Never expected the human attack on the cave to fail.

Only one possibility remained as to the fate of Ming...

Tears flowed as Lucy exited the forest.

A bearer of bad news.