March, march, march....march, march, march…

“Hkejk! That tick Khtraal won’t know what’s going on until his bones are burning! If a raal is worth ten spawn, then show me, miserable tick.” On top of a long neck, a large mouth spewed insults at his old foe as the once-chief strode forth as if he commanded the horde. Kugu did not raise the matter, as he was aware that even beaten Uhkhjk held a great deal of power. Though if not for the fact that their goals coincided, he would have kept far away from him.

A eleven ten-thousands strong, Kugu walked among the center of his spawn. Only slightly larger than the average goblin, lacking any special features as well as the dextrous hands of a raal, he realized his position as chief more or less came as a fluke. Though stronger and more skilled than others, he would have never been made chief if not for the power vacuum in the area. Thinking that amassing power would help protect him, Kugu connived his way into becoming chief.

In retrospect the decision had been a poor one. Though he attuned himself with the nest, and it recognized him in turn, Kugu’s strength was far inferior to that of other chieftains. As a result, even with a decent nest, though his spawn became more numerous, they were not equal to the spawn of other chiefs. Such a desired position made him look like a delectable target.

He suffered multiple assassination attempts; unsurprisingly more from his allies than their current target. After all, Khtraal focused his efforts on the larger threats. Instead those outcasts from the north thought they could use an extra nest, and he would be an easy target. Not that Kugu ever truly believed in alliances, but the steady assault of assassins weakened his already lacking elite forces.

The reason he marched today would be to escape his troubles. His forces would clash with those of Khtraal, and after some nominal fighting in person, he would take several of his elites and vanish into the woods.

Living outside of a nest presented a harsh life, but in Kugu’s eyes, it was no more difficult than what he already dealt with. Finding food out of necessity seemed like a strange act; though most other life forms needed to do so, he was still a goblin. The chiefs of the south were seen as gluttonous by those of the north, but Kugu lived in the middle forest for most of his life. Seeing how much more rapidly they developed themselves showed they were not actually weak as he hoped they were when setting out. At least he learned their ways and some of the strategies to hunt reliably and for long periods.

“Fellow Chief, I look forward to seeing you defeat Khtraal. You will certainly be able to kill many of his spawn.” As they marched, Kugu made sure to try and incite Uhkhjk to taking the front lines to separate them. It would be good if he was killed as it would lend credibility to his own faked death. Though there were no doubt tKlor’t’t’s shamen among his spawn, so he did not dare order it done by his own hand.

tKlor’t’t, that falling leaf, Kugu admitted to himself that the fat chief was perhaps the greatest in the south. Acting as a double agent, while he might have been a triple agent, perhaps he was a quadruple agent. He could have no allegiances at all and just pushed every turn towards a direction he wanted. Whenever Kugu tried reasoning out his movements, his nose began to wrinkle in confusion. The only conclusion was to be careful in matters relating to tKlor’t’t.

Besides, other than possible rats, there was little guarantee he could take down Uhkhjk. Though the long-necked one had a similarly small body, Uhkhjk’s bite was incomparably vicious. Even if there was not a battle about to take place it would be too risky. Kugu just had to hope that the hatred of raal would send him on a foolish crusade to his death. His arrogance was certainly seemed high enough to try.

“Defeat? Kill? I will feast on his spawn until nothing but bones remain. All of his nests will be obliterated, and I will have tKlor’t’t sacrifice a hundred wargs to me!”

“Yes, the Large Chief is quite deceptive.” Despite not wanting to speak ill of the Zzshzsh, Kugu was more interested in getting Uhkhjk to overextend himself. Besides, it was he who was present and not tKlor’t’t; better not to upset the current threat than the future one, especially when he might be able to escape.

Uhkhjk raved about the atrocities he would commit upon Khtraal’s land as they marched through the morning darkness. Yhrack was hardly three hours south, yet some of the warg riders and other still felt the need to descend on several goblins for a meal. At least the short distance meant they were not consuming each other at an appreciable rate. There was still an hour or so left, and Kugu hoped none of his elites would eat each other in that time.

Then, he felt an ill omen from the outskirts.

Almost weak to the point of nonexistence, Kugu was still a chief and one with the nest, those under him still provided a connection. It was only in great numbers that he could feel any effects though, and those around the edges of the army were being severed like the muscles of a chikan.

“There is trouble towards the outskirts. The raal are making a challenge.” Keeping his words from being able to be directed towards himself, Uhkhjk’s face scowled with dark glee.

“Then it seems it is time for me to show them the power of a true goblin. Tell me where they are!”

The two of them split, Uhkhjk heading west and Kugu heading east for a short while before stopping. He certainly wasn’t about to head out to the front lines without knowing the threat estimate. Picking south randomly, he headed that way in case the enemy was looking for him while waiting for a report to find its way to him.

His evasive maneuver halted, and his eyes widened. To the south, a sudden and mysterious assault began. Had the initial strikes been a diversion? If so should he move to the front to help counter it, or fall back until he could engage safely? More spawn were being lost than to either of the flanks and at an incredibly steady rate as well.

Anxiously grinding his sword, Kugu played it safe and waited for his elites to begin gathering around him before heading to the main point of conflict. He needed to at least scratch the enemy’s leg before running. His horde frantically rushed forwards, and he went with the natural current that formed from the hordes restless movement to make his way south. As he did so, one of his elite spearmen reported in.

“Chief! To the south, the dead walk! To the sides, tKlor’t’t riders have pinned down your elites!”

“tKlor’t’t riders and the dead? Are you sure?”

“Living skeletons as well, my Chief, there is no mistaking it! A human seems to be leading them.”

Kugu repeatedly clamped and unclamped his uneven teeth in different positions. Undead, human, and tKlor’t’t? Whatever was going on, it did not bode well. tKlor’t’t really wasn’t on the side of the alliance. He supposed even if he did possess a shaman he wouldn’t inform them of the betrayal, they could all rot. tKlor’t’t found some forbidden power, and the end was definitely nigh for those who he wished to sweep aside. Even the chief outcast ages ago that lurked on the fringes of the woods would be served up on a platter.

Kugu needed to make a perfect escape from it. tKlor’t’t was thorough, perhaps he could suffer a few wounds before getting away. According to what he heard, skeletons and the walking dead were fairly slow, though there was the risk of poisoning. Taking a look at the human first would be a good idea, very few of them were actually strong, especially those that were shamen. Once the human tired out, he could fight it and be hit before taking a wound and retreating. That would at least plant some doubt in tKlor’t’t’s mind.

Pushing his way through the thick ranks of goblins who barely parted for him, Kugu stopped his men a short distance from the confrontation point. He wanted them to be able to back him up, but he also didn’t want to jump in and kill the enemy too easily before getting wounded. It would be more suspicious if they just looked on. Fanning them out to cover multiple escape routes, Kugu moved in to confront the enemy.

Footsteps slow and heavy almost immediately, he looked up to the battle ahead of him through the trees. Yes, up. The woods here were flat, yet the very ground seemed to be propped up by layers and layers of his horde. Two or three were dead under every footfall, how overbearing was this fight? Kugu’s eyes were drawn to the loudest area first.

Filled with screams against silence, the sound of metal tearing open flesh rolled off the front line. Standing against his soldiers were over a hundred goblins with vacant expressions and sallow skin. Their innumerable injuries leaked a vile black ichor as they formed a circle and defensively held their position while maintaining their balance. A goblin that got too close would find themselves grappled, and slowly beaten to death; not because of overwhelming muscles, but because the dead were relentless and no attack damaged them enough. The corpses would suffer a few scratches before bludgeoning the victim’s skull or gut, or biting their neck, dropping them and ready for the next.

That was not all, for a slow creature might have been eventually worn down, but from behind the moving corpses, skeletons wielded innumerable spears and swords, jabbing unceasingly at those who would approach them. Untiring, an approaching goblin stymied by the outer ring one second would find themselves endlessly perforated the next. In an unprecedented manner, the two groups worked smartly together, using the speed and agility of the skeletons to macerate the spawn held off by the moving corpses.

Kugu could not believe his eyes, nightmares manifesting in such a manner was not something that should happen. Death rose up, blood increasing the humidity of the air and seeping down through the new topsoil of the dead. If a body crawls up, you can fight it, and if a pack of undead find you, gather your tribe to exterminate them. But hundreds? What can goblins do against such creatures, especially when they exhibit more intelligence than the average goblin?

Run. Running was the only option.

But Kugu made a mistake. His eyes caught sight of a hill, and followed the slope to the top.

A barbaric human, larger than he had ever seen stood atop the plateau of bodies. Swinging a large club he laughed maniacally, his shirtless body covered in scraps of the dead. Every swing of his weapon crumpled a goblin and sent them flying, making the human smile ever more joyously as though it were a game. So thickly steeped, it looked as though his very hair was made of blood.

Looking down on Kugu, he called in the human language, spraying blood as he slapped his chest in challenge.

Kugu did not stand and fight if the opponent could possibly defeat him, but running away was not an option. As soon as he turned, the devil would certainly descend on him out of anger. He could only try and fight his way out. Like an infant thrown to the wargs.

Taking a deep breath, running forward with his sword out, Kugu charged up the slope. Feet stumbling up the hill of corpses, the chief roared, trying to rid the oppressive feeling from around him, trying to gain some semblance of a virtuous battle.

He had never been one for such thoughts before, why now? Why in the face of death did he struggle so hard to exemplify the strength a chief should be able to show? From birth until now, Kugu realized that he could not match his brethren. He’d only been born slightly clever, and clung to his moderately good fortune to get through life. Running from a dangerous fight was all he knew how to do, the thoughtless conflict of the goblin race, pride and honor through strength and feasting, none of that could be attained by him.

When his progenitor Kggruk fell, he had been there; yet unlike those elites that fell to their knees at the moment of his death, Kugu merely felt a twinge. Unlike the tribes of the south, those goblins in the middle and northern territories believed in grooming their descendants and forming bonds. Despite his lack of strength, Kggruk and the others kept him as part of their tribe.

Yet when they were assaulted, Kugu fled, and even the death of his progenitor did not slow his flight from his tribe. Before he had never looked back and regretted the action, all the others had died—how could fleeing have been the wrong choice? Perhaps that had been his only inheritance, not the hide, but Water. To flow without compunction.

But now, his arms were growing numb with each clash between the two of them. The demonic human seemed egged on with each weapon Kugu managed to destroy, though it was clear he intentionally used no techniques. His spawn crawled up the mountain of corpses to try and slow down the monster, but they would be killed in moments.

“Coordinate your attacks!” It was useless, even if they did listen it wouldn’t improve their chances. Yet they continued to fight on after all those in front of them had perished. Because that was the goblin way.

Fight, eat, die.

Goblins did not long for death, but neither were they averse, they were far too surrounded by it for it to be feared. They fought to eat, and ate to fight; they would die trying to eat, and die to be eaten. Kugu wondered if the reason he ran away that day had to do with the fact that he belonged in the southern tribes, where everyone was expendable. Kggruk and his comrades helped provide for him in his time of need, and he never thought to return the favor.

But now, stance failing, Kugu couldn’t bring himself to run away this time. He had been weak, nothing more than a joke among chieftains. Facing a tyrannical existence, there was no way to escape.

Perhaps this was his chance to live up to the virtue of being a goblin. To exhibit power on the battlefield.

Fight, eat, die; and all his life he had eaten.

A blow struck against his arm, and Kugu growled as his muscles deadened. Over and over, he couldn’t make any progress against the human, yet he pushed his skill with the sword forward. Spawn crawling from all directions helped ease his situation, but it all happened in vain. Kugu swore again and again, at the very least he would make the foul human suffer one wound!

Striking with his sword again and again, he noticed out of the corner of his eye, his elites were coming into view. Spotting their progenitors suppression, several charged towards both the monstrous human and the undead. Those that charged towards him were dispatched with ease similar to the rest, but when they attacked the undead, though they were repelled, the devil paused for a moment.

“Chief! Uhkhjk is to the northwest!”

Kugu sprinted down the mountain of corpses. Fighting could be done at any time. If he could fight such a monster and escape, then no mere goblin would trouble him. Lord or King, he’d no doubt that even if they happened to be stronger, they would be nowhere near as terrifying. He could stand and fight against anything from now on, so long as it wasn’t that.

Kugu shivered as he felt connections sever behind him; the demon not giving up on the hunt. So many were falling to his blade, yet he continued to shorten the distance between them. Kugu stumbled forward on wounded legs, his spawn pushing him along. If only he reached Uhkhjk, then the foolish chief might be able to buy him some time.

Something hit him from behind, sending him crawling across the ground for several moments, but Uhkhjk would have been in sight if not for the spawn between them. He only needed to hold out a few moments more.

Death that came to the forest today, with his elites and spawn. There was no glory in stabbing fire, or biting at lightning, but on this field of carnage Kugu found his spirit. From this moment on, he could live true to the goblin way and himself. On the brink of death did he learn—

Caught in an icy grip, Kugu could barely screech before losing his head.