------ Slip Hero Chapter 9: ------

Well shit, this chapter only took forver. More about that in the spoiler bit.

Spoiler :

To summarize the lateness, I moved into a new place with my brother, got a full time job working an average of 10 hours mon-fri, spent my weekends shopping for furniture, repairing my car, getting sick, or was just too tired and distracted to be able to sit at a computer and type.

The chapter was actually 2/3s done before all of that.

Anyway, in my new job I work in a premium pork processing plant, mostly de-boning ribs. One side has 12 ribs and I do about 400 sets per day. My body is pretty sore after 10 hours of that. But I now make $1,200 per 2 weeks instead of $350/2wks.

The southern Calbin field is now a network of packed snow paths that are deep enough I can barely peek my head over the piled snow on each side. Along the way I find many of the tents that were set up are now more like caves mades with packed blocks of snow for walls. The roof of these tents are mostly hardened snow with the tent canvas supporting it from underneath.

The rear area of the field nearest Calbin’s main buildings are small stations where shoveled snow is packed into wooden boxes to form the bricks. The bricks are loaded onto sleds to build up the shelters. Because the militia stationed here during the blizzard had nothing to do, they must have sought to build these shelters instead of being buried by all the snow that has fallen.

I peek inside one as I pass by, the entrance is partially covered by wool canvas and inside I can see light from a small fire. There is a small hole in the roof between the pieces of canvas covering the roof for smoke to vent out. Bedding of plant fiber and furs are covering most of the floor and few militia are inside right now.

I assume that most of the militias have become active right now so, only a few remain in reserve. I pick up my pace to catch back up with Varrel and Pakt who are heading towards one of the few landmarks I can see from inside the snow trench. The small wooden watch tower in the center of the southern field is where we believe Farl to be commanding from.

The trench almost goes straight towards the tower with a few bends along the way to move around shelters. I do not think anyone planned these paths out well during the blizzard. We soon arrive at the outpost where the area inside the small palisade has been mostly cleared of snow; however, the deep snowbanks are high enough that the palisade wall is buried anyway.

From above the snowbank the outpost would seem a lot shorter and it is hard to tell how defensive this position is anymore. The trenches provide good cover from arrows but they would do little to impede an attacker’s movements.

The main tent next to the wooden tower is still standing, what snow fallen on it has been cleared so, it seems the same as the last time I came by. I follow Pakt and Varrel to the tent’s entrance where a few people are sitting on folding stools around the Calbin map. Two of the people are Farl and Esken, I notice another from Farl’s manor before.

I believe his name was Barkel, his unshaven face has grown closer into a proper beard. In fact, as Varrel takes his helmet off and unwraps some cloth around his neck I also notice his face is developing a scruff. Many of the others have had time to relax and shave during the storm so, maybe it is just Barkel looking to grow some insulation.

“Come in and sit Kordi.” Farl says as he notices me linger at the entrance while Pakt and Varrel find seats.

There are a few folded stools at the edge of the tent which I place one between Pakt and Varrel. With Varrel on my left and Pakt to my right, Pakt has seated himself next to his uncle Farl. Farl focuses on Varrel waiting for him to speak.

“The northern attack came shortly after the storm had passed taking advantage of the high bank of snow along the steep northern slope being less steep. Without the palisade the defense had to make use of the east west road as protection.”

“The goblins only attacked with a small force that was around one hundred, most were wearing crude snowshoes made of woven branches. After the first wave packed the way, heavier goblins made their move.”

“Gobite armour?” Farl asks.

“Yes, no more than a dozen in the attack.”

“Casualties?” Esken joins in.

“None, serious wounds were treated quickly and I created a screen of snow to blind the goblin archers.”

Pakt leans in to say, “I saw that, he swung a sithril hammer to throw a cloud of snow at the tree line the gobs were loosing arrows from.”

“Is that was Kordi was working on?” Farl adds.

Varrel nods, “For a sithril tool it feels comparable to some of the higher quality staves I have encountered; however, this granted a much greater effect. A gobite armoured goblin confronted me during the battle. Normally I would avoid directly hitting the armour which can cause their defensive feedback and break the weapon.”

“That feedback is a pain.” Barkel grunts, “Gotta make ‘em waste it before it is safe to attack.”

“Normally yes. It works like attacking with gobite, putting mana into the metal will release it as an impact force on contact. That impact is very dangerous when vibrating through hard metal.” Varrel places the sithril hammer I made onto the table with the map carving.

“This can work in a similar way so, by using two impact forces against each other you can expect the stronger force to overcome the other.”

Farl and Barkel both nod.

“However, because this hammer is made of very refined sithril, strengthening the mana’s focus more than usual, the result was that my strike overwhelmed the gobite’s defensive feedback force.”

“That sounds good.” Farl replies.

“It overwhelmed the defense so greatly that the goblin’s entire skeleton shattered. Only hammer I have seen do that used an expensive crystal.”

The room paused for a moment, Farl, Barkel, and Pakt both had wider eyes from this news. Esken held her surprise back but she still looked intent on staring at the hammer. I feel a little awkward since it is something I made that is getting so much attention

“How did you refine the sithril again?” Farl asks, changing his attention towards me.

“Um, I ground the gobite down then sifted the powder in water. The heaviest parts settle on the bottom of the pan which is the silver, the rest is a mix of slag, copper, iron, and magic minerals. I found the minerals are attracted to mana which allows me to separate those with magic.” I reply.

“I do not know how much free time we will have to make more, especially since we will need him for healing.” Varrel comments to Farl.

After hearing that, Farl leans back to ponder for a moment.

“I guess we can’t expect this to be some miracle weapon then.”

“It does the job.”

“Anyway, let us move onto another topic. Esken, let Varrel know about the newest information from the scouts.”

Esken nods to Farl before she turns to Varrel.

“There is a lot of activity from the western caves, trees and shrubs have been clipped of branches. Likely for more snowshoes. We should expect another attack tonight.”

“Better spend the day setting up our defenses and traps. We’ll need the mages to bring out their stockpiled spell stones they have been working on.” Varrel says.

“What kind of magic did they use?” Barkel asks.

“Ice, the spell is designed to gather and compact snow. It works best in the winter after heavy snowfall. We can use them to freeze groups at a time.” Esken replies.

Varrel shifts himself forward on his stool and looks over the map.

“We’ll need to keep that in mind and find ways to draw them to the traps. Pile snow up in places to bait them to take it as cover against our arrows. Once there are enough we trigger the trap.” Farl says with a smile.

“Just use a few at a time.” Varrel adds, “Esken, find out how many we have and supervise the placement of the magic defense.”

I hold back my curiosity about how these magic traps work or how they are made, the few mages in Calbin including the mercenary Doore had been spending their time making these. The plan was to stockpile their magic for future use it seems.

“I suppose Kordi will need a place to work near the south. As we build up our defenses along the north the goblins will likely attack from the south or west.” Farl says.

Which makes sense to me just from peeking at the map, the east is blocked by the steep Calbin hill and the north is being refortified. So, the western road and southern fields are much easier to approach from.

“The western road is paved along rough slopes within thick woods, the goblins cannot move too many through that at one time. The least rough terrain are the north and south fields with the south fields being flattest.” Varrel adds.

Now that Varrel mentions it, the west road to Calbin bent along some hills with a steel slope down to a creek bed. The north and south fields around Calbin are some of the few flat places close by.

“So, the early fighting has been done to prevent the goblins from rallying in our flat fields?” I ask Pakt, poking his thigh.

“Hm?” Pakt turns to me.

I point to the map, there are wood carvings representing goblin camps which are mostly around flat places further into the woods.

“Correct,” Farl instead answers, “if the goblins want to set up somewhere they have to either march from the caves far away or find a field. When they travel from their camp they have to thin their numbers to fit through the woods. We can pick them off and disorganized them.”

“That was when we had snowshoes and they did not.” Barkel adds.

“Yes, they can properly chase us after an ambush which will give them time to plough paths to Calbin.”

Farl leans back to think as Esken takes her leave.

“Well… you should find a place to set up a triage station between the southern woods and the temple, take charge of that Pakt.” Farl orders.

“Right.” Pakt replies as he sits up to attention.

I follow Pakt outside the tent where the cold air blows overhead. There is no cloud cover anymore so the only snow blowing around comes from the wind picking snow from the trees. I can hear the sound of shoveling as wood and metal tools cut into the deep snow.

“Let’s not go too far.” Pakt says while looking at the snow bank across from the outpost, “We’ll set up the triage station just behind the outpost which is already near the most traffic.”

It is a good idea to not be too close to the woods, being in range of arrows or without enough buffer against a charge would only put the outpost in danger. Pakt makes his way to a nearby group wielding bronze or wood shovels.

One of the women in the groups brings a rectangular wooden box missing the top and bottom. After placing it on the ground, the others shovel snow into it and she presses down on the snow with the flat end of her wooden shovel. Once packed, she lifts the wooden walls and leaves a packed brick of snow.

The brick is picked up by another mirt to pile up. As the snow bank is cleared, the bricks are placed along the edge of what the triage post will be. The same kind of look as the other shelters.

When the walls are high enough they bring in some long wooden poles and fit them parallel to hold a canopy for the roof. The last brick layer is placed along the edge to hold down the wooden poles completing the shelter in a few hours.

Some extra bricks are piled around to raise the floor a little in some spots. I request this so that I can pile straw and cloth to make simple bedding that also doubles as a table. That way I do not have to bend down much to treat anyone laying down.

Some chopped firewood is delivered and I make a trip into Calbin to find a metal pot in case I need to melt snow or ice for water. With most clay and soil frozen I cannot build up a proper fireplace; however, there are some stones delivered for the firepit. I can relax inside for a moment when we finish.

By this time the sun begins to set I have a nice fire going inside, a few of the militia have also taken shelter inside for warmth. They also share a few of their experiences in the woods.

Most of which are the patrol groups holding position as quietly as possible while experienced scouts move ahead. They used to find more spooked rodents alerting the group with maybe one or two koblin sightings a day.

“An arrow flew by my head that one day.” One militia man said, “Never saw the kob who shot it but we heard him run off. It was then I could start to tell apart the sound of a kob to a wildling.”

Wildlings is a word I did not hear much back home, it is a general term for wild animals that are more intelligent than rodents or big game yet unable to use tools or communicate. They can be aggressive, especially in packs.

The Ferrel Valley does not have much issue with wildlings as the hunters would drive them out. Up by Calbin the presence of goblins and koblins along the mountains does offer some shelter from mirt hunters. However, they are a major form of prey for tool wielding koblins that keep the wildling populations low.

Because of that, there are no large wildings around here, farther into undeveloped lands the size of wildlings is supposed to be much greater. I did not learn too much about this from my father, instead there was a text I found in the temple that covered some history.

When koblin tribes are killed off, wildlings take over and become pests. Apparently that was an issue in Calbin after the last goblin and koblin attack. Some of the locals had grown up in Calbin without worry of koblins so, they are only now seeing koblins and goblins.

I picked up on this from their chatter as I heat snow into water before I practice using my magic to draw out impurities. Then I will add some salt later when needed to make a saline water. The current water can be used for drinking until then, when this is done I lay down to nap expecting to be busy during the night.

“Healer? Is there a healer here?”

I had drifted to sleep a little when I hear a voice call out.

“Wake up.” says the familiar voice of Pakt.

I roll off the straw and fur bedding to stand, my eyes adjust to the darkness outside a little where a figure holding their arm comes under the triage post’s roof into the dim fire’s light.

He has an arrow wound in his upper arm, the arrow was removed and a crude bandage wrapped the wound. I find my tools and supplies before telling the wounded militia to sit on one of the raised beds.

“Is it getting busy out there?” Pakt asks.

“I think so, I was hit by a koblin scout, my group continued ahead to see if the koblin was a scout.” The militia replies as I finish removing the bandage and inspect the wound.

Fortunately the arrow did not hit any bone, I can easily mend together the cut muscle and blood vessels. Pakt steps outside a little to look around, the small fire inside does make a little noise as the wood cracks and pops from the flames.

“I can hear some noise in the distance, it is certainly shouting.” Pakt states.

“All done.” I say as I finish wiping the blood around his wound off.

“Oh?” The militia man replies, he may have been expecting more but after a quick inspection of his arm he adds, “Thanks, it feels fine now.”

“You might want to find out what is happening out there, everyone will probably pull back if it is a large goblin force coming so stay with others in the woods.” Pakt advises.

“Right, I might lose my way in the dark.”

I take a peek outside as well to notice activity in the trenches as militia stir up chatter between each other. If I focus on listening to the distance I can hear a low echoing from the woods.

I turn back in to begin preparing a saline water from the melted and filtered water I had prepared. I would prefer to properly clean the wounds as best as I can so we do not need to worry about anyone getting sick from infection. While the faelin would help I would rather avoid using too much of it so soon.

Within a few hours I began receiving more arrow injuries, only ten so far. The biggest issue is the volume of noise coming from the woods continues to grow louder. I hesitate to listen too much when I will hear the howling and shrieks of goblin war cries.

Much of the militia has withdrawn to the southern field and prepare their defense. Some of the experienced hunters and soldiers will form small groups and stay within the woods where they can attack from concealment to harass the goblin advance.

This can be especially useful if the chain of command can be disrupted.

“Apparently they have one.” Pakt comments to himself on the topic.

“Would it be a simple one?” I ask.

“Probably, can’t say I know how to speak goblin, but there are some goblins who give the order for a combined attack. We’d rather they attack in a disorderly manner.”

“Or else we’d be overrun?”

“Yea…”

Pakt replies as he looks outside again, the star filled sky does make it a little easier to see in the dark; however, the woods are covered from that light. The dark void within the is a haunting sight, I would hate to enter into that for a night patrol.

“HWOOOAAR!”

A howling shout comes from the woods just to the left of the field. I see Pakt look over the edge of the trench, he is not alone. Many of the others from different shelters begin looking out. Shouts from a few places try to order them back inside since it gets in the way of anyone trying to get somewhere.

Pakt comes towards me and speaks, “Like that. We provoke them to make small attacks by killing their leader so an isolated group will attack without care.”

“Though,” He continues, “I am sure most of the spectators here wanted to see if the magic traps would be used.”

I do recall when I entered Calbin to find the pot for boiling water I could see some of the work being done in the field. Snow was being dug and replaced with simple wooden logs that would be very difficult to climb over.

“So, the traps are between the log blockades?”

“As far as I know, that way the goblin attack bunches up at that point.”

“How do we activate it?”

Pakt looks at me before shrugging.

Well, maybe I will find out one day. The attacks continue into the night as Pakt and I hold out position in the triage outpost. More injuries come by including both arrow wounds and stabbings which I manage to mend quickly enough.

The only problem I encountered is when Pakt and myself left to take a piss, we spent a while looking for a spot which was not exposed to arrows and also out of the way from others. When we returned we found more wounded militia waiting. Fortunately the last patient I tended to was available to stay in the outpost to let anyone know we were out for a piss.

I still felt bad, like I should find some other way to relieve myself. If there was a really serious injury someone may die. I think about it for a while as I heal the deep tissue damage of a spear wound.

Telling someone about my worry could help come to a solution but, thinking it over, I feel that my concern is very paranoid. However, it does not remove the guilt and worry in my chest. That or the lack of sleep is getting to me.

Napping is difficult when goblin howling continues to echo from the woods and consistent injuries make their way inside the sheltered outpost.

“I can see the sun is lighting the sky from behind the hills.” Pakt says as he returns from a short walk.

He gets bored pretty quickly and has to walk a bit, though he tells me he is not going to be far, I can usually see him pace in front of the shelter or walk laps around the area. When I see his head drifting down he will usually go on one of these walks, the cold air might wake him up a little.

The echoing howls begin to calm down a little as the sun rises, it seems like the goblins are not pushing as hard when there is more light. I pull up some extra fur to take a nap again, if I am lucky I could get an hour or two of sleep before someone comes by.

My consciousness slips away quickly under the warm covers. Even though the light crackle of the fire and I can hear footsteps passing by I have no problem settling into a deep sleep.

“Hello?”

I wake from what seemed to be a dreamless sleep and turn my head to the exit. The light from outside is brighter so, I had fallen asleep for a while. The triage outpost has some canvas hunt along the entrance to hold heat in, someone has partially opened it to peek inside.

I have a hard time seeing who it is from the bright snow background.

“Stell?” a groggy Pakt asks.

“Sorry, did I wake you Pakt? This is the triage place right?”

I pull myself out of the fur covers before replying, “Yes, this is it. Need any healing?”

I rub my eyes a little to clear some of the dried crust from my eyelashes.

“Oh no, not me. I just came by to help out, more volunteers are coming from town.” she replies.

“Ah, I see. Well, I should get the fire going again, coals are almost out.” Pakt says, rising out of his corner sleeping spot.

“Wait, I can do that, you guys probably need to sleep.” Stell lowers herself down to help pile some wood onto the fire pit.

I stretch out a little before saying, “we should explain the kind of things that you could do while we are up.”

“Yeah, it would be a good start. What kind of experience do you have with wounds or healing?” Pakt asks.

“Well, none really, I honestly wanted to avoid having to pull out arrows from goblin corpses.” she answers with a coy look.

Pakt turns to look at me, I decide to reply, “So... instead of pulling arrows from dead things, you want to pull them out of living people?”

Her face turns a little pale.

“Oh...”

“Well, I will be doing most of the wound care.” I add.

“Sorry, I had a selfish reason for coming.”

“Don’t worry.” Pakt jokes, trying to break the awkward mood, “We do need someone to manage bandages, cleaning, and such.”

“I... feel bad leaving so much onto you Kordi.” she apologizes.

“Pakt mostly paces around.”

“Hey, I do that after I sort out whose injuries are serious for you.”

The mood is a little less awkward after the first conversation. Stell settles in soon enough and her waitress confidence begins to return as I go through the cleaning station and the tools I use.

Being out in the field removing arrows is a dangerous job if the goblins make an attack so, when Stell heard that Pakt and I set up a triage outpost she wanted to give a try volunteering for it. The rations are being strictly distributed now so that people must do more specific jobs that need to be done.

This includes work like constructing barricades with wood and snow, hauling material, or recovering arrows and supplies. The triage was a unique job that just came up when Stell needed some ration tokens.

She handles the sight of the first wound well, it is not something uncommon around here after all; however, Stell does not have any practice doing anything about it. Which is not really needed, I remove the arrow easily enough.

This arrow wound was caught by the adventurer’s silk shirt, the spider silk wrapped itself around the arrow head. The arrow still penetrated into his flesh; however, the damage is a little less than it could have been and the removal is very easy.

I get Stell to wipe down the wound with a wet cloth soaked in saline water. Another pot of water is left to nearly boil to sterilize the used cloths. When I move to the pile of arrows I have I inspect the goblin arrow.

Hardened along the arrow head and shaft is a brown crusty material, I sniff it to find that the arrow was coated in feces.

“We will need some faelin tea here, this arrow is covered in feces which can make someone very sick if it gets into the blood.”

“Wha-” the adventurer responds.

“Damn, looks like they are getting pretty pissed off at us holding out this long.” Pakt says.

I look to Stell before saying, “I’ll need some faelin from the temple and a kettle to boil the tea in, normally I would just send people to the temple after treatment but we should have our own supply here.”

Stell heads out while I finish the adventurer’s wounds.

“Will this be fine? THe shit got in my wound didn’t it?” he asks.

“Your silk shirt helped keep the feces out but just in case you should drink some faelin tea.”

I turn to Pakt and add, “More people should probably get silk to limit the amount of feces that gets into any wound.”

“Right, I’ll hop over to the tower and see if uncle or someone is there. They can spread the word.”

Fortunately when Stell returns, she brought her own kettle, the faelin, and some herbs and pine needles she likes to use for the tea she brews. The pine needles in particular can provide a refreshing pick-up that even prevents some illness.

It seems to be a personal recipe that her mother passed down. The tea is sour which helps wake me a little and the warmth is certainly appreciated while using cold tools and wet cloth all day.

Pakt and I are able to nap a little more after Stell settles in, from what Pakt found out, the goblin activity has slowed down during the day. Smoke from campfires are visible over the tree tops, a sign that more goblins are rallied to attack.

There is a thick tension built up as the smoke trails show that Calbin is encircled by goblin camps. The militia are much more quiet, those who stayed up at night want to sleep and those who are awake stare into the woods.

If a wound is serious enough, then Stell will wake me. If the wound does not need urgent treatment, she directs them to the temple that is only a few minutes away by foot. With fewer disruptions I can doze off a few times, waking from the occasional noise of footsteps and chatter.

Eventually I make my way outside to relieve my bowels, the sun has set at this time and the woods begin to echo the howls of goblins. I should get this done sooner than later if we end up with the same kind of constant wounds as the last night.

The mood feels as frozen as the air brushing against my cheeks, along the trench I can find a few watchers wrapped up in furs as they stare into the woods for any enemies. Inside the other shelters a warm fire is surrounded by anxious militia, waiting for the call.

I can see that many of the watchers are wearing cloth over their faces to reduce the amount of exposed skin, the wind blowing over the fields feels like it burns the skin. Their breath has frozen the mask into a ice beard and occasionally I catch a watcher plucking the ice from their eye lashes.

In a strange sense, the cold fortunately freezes the waste, limiting the smell from toilet areas. I quickly make my way back to warm up, my nose is running from the cold air and my eyelashes are starting to stick together.

The small fire inside the triage shelter does help keep the place warm; however, the constant heated water vapours freeze around the edges of the canvas. Opening the canvas results in the crackling of frost while small icicles shatter on the hard ground.

From the south I can hear a rise in volume of goblin howls, Pakt and Stell are inside looking to see who just entered. There is more tension in the room compared to when I left.

“Its louder, sounds like the goblins will be coming through the woods soon.” Pakt says as he rises from the bedding he was sitting on.

Shortly after this a pair of wounded militia come by, one has a spear wound to his thigh while the other took an arrow into the back of his shoulder as he carried the other away. I mend their wounds, the leg injury will take longer to heal so he can head to the temple. The arrow wound will not affect the other man once I mended it.

Before he heads back I asked him to take his comrade to the temple and drink some faelin tea since the arrow was also coated in feces. The message about wearing silk has spread, many are finding ways to wrap their legs and arms in silk cloth under their armour.

The silk also helps to dull cuts and stabs from knives and spears. The tough spider silk is very difficult to cut with even a sharp steel blade. If someone wants to pierce through silk cloth it is usually done by pushing through the strands of woven fabric.

Generally the skin can still be cut even when covered by silk and wool but it is very hard, many people who I treat with melee injuries have much more bruising than cuts. Unless their skin is exposed then the cuts are considerably deeper and bloody.

So, people were already trying to wear silk and thick wool as much as they could, now that more spider silk is being claimed from goblin corpses there is a greater supply of silk cloth. Stell could have volunteered as a weaver but there are limited weaving tools and looms.

“BRUP, BRUP, BROOOOOO”

Blaring horns come from the woods.

Pakt jumps to attention and looks outside. I can hear towers around us blaring horns as well, the sound of feet rumble lightly. People rush from their shelters out to their positions.

The goblin howling intensifies in return.

Pakt opens the way for a few more injured, the three of them are geared in equipment to help conceal themselves in the snow and bushes. Some of the wounds are actually a little old, having been bandaged at least half a day ago.

“Back from the woods?” Pakt asks.

“Yeah, we’ve been harassing them all day up until the night. Got them good and pissed off, howling curses the whole time.” One of them says, taking off his frozen mask revealing a smile.

“Is that what the noise is about?” I ask while helping remove their snow covered equipment from them.

He turns to look outside, “Could be intimidating, but it just goes to show that we’ve cooked them into a frenzy.”

“Wouldn’t that be dangerous?” Stell asks.

“Of course it is, but it is better they don’t think too much about what they are doing when they attack. Their north attack was too organized.”

I begin cleaning and mending a few of their wounds that have not scabbed over. The serious wounds were caused by spears by the look of it. Noticing this, Pakt comments, “Did they overrun you guys?”

“A little.” one replies, he pulls off his fur cap revealing black curly hair underneath, “Might have stirred them up too much too quickly.”

He lifts his silk undershirt to inspect a spear wound that mostly bruised his abdomen from the side. Stell takes a warm cloth to wash it.

“Thanks,” he says, “Surprised it doesn’t hurt much when you wash.”

“Oh, Kordi mentioned that he added a little salt to the water, prevents the water from stinging as much.” Stell replies.

“Really?” He looks to me for a moment, “I was going to say that having a beautiful woman washing it must have been the case.”

“Then what does that say about me?” his comrade adds, I have just finished washing down an arrow wound of this comrade.

The group laughs a little, “maybe you're into that.” they joke.

Their moral is very high compared to the anxious militia outside, even when the sound of combat breaks through the woods they did not seem to mind. After cleaning the wounds Stell serves some of her faelin tea.

“Wow, this is good.” they agree among each other, tightly holding their clay cups for warmth.

“The faelin should help deal with any infection from the goblin feces.” I add.

“”That is right, the goblins have become fed up with us to the point they are coating their arrows and spears in shit. An inconvenience at best since we have faelin.” one of them replies.

“So long as we don’t run out.” Pakt comments.

“True.”

“Hmm?” a few of the men turn to listen outside.

The sound of combat does not die down, they begin wearing their equipment again in preparation. Pakt makes his way outside first, I decide to follow after the others move out.

From the outside I can hear the shouts as orders are given to rally defenders to their positions. Arrows are fired from ahead into the darkness, the woods are lightly light from star light and torches. I poke my head above the trench to see better.

Howls from the woods draw my attention to a place where dark silhouettes rush out from the trees onto the white snow. They make their way to the narrowing point between barricades. The sound of a higher pitch whistle comes three times from one of the towers.

When the wave of dark figures begins to pass through the narrow gap a sudden surge of wind and snow smashes into the center of the group. As if the snow and ice had been sucked into a spiraling vortex, clumping together and trapping the attackers in hard snow and ice.

The spiral shaped mound was enough to encase at least twenty goblins in one go. A few goblins on the outside of the effect manage to pull themselves free, swinging at the hard snow ice. The time it takes them to become free was enough for archers to fire into their bodies. The rest of the goblins are trapped without a way to escape.

I hear some celebration back where we are near the reserves; however, the attack is not yet over. More dark silhouettes emerge, running through the snow fields over their fallen goblins. I continue to watch until some wounded are brought from the front for treatment.

The injuries consistently come through, some of which are much more severe than normal from stabbing wounds. I make myself busy with treating the deep wounds, cleaning the rest before sending them to the temple for general healing.

Bones, blood vessels, muscles, nerves, and tendons are my main focus. Their distinct form is a little difficult for general healing spells to efficiently heal. Though the majority of wound trauma is not directly along the cut or break, the serious critical trauma is along that line.

Temple healing works well to heal the general trauma while I focus on the critical trauma.

I explained this for Stell while we work because she was curious as to why I would leave wounds unfinished. The damage to the skin and fat layers is not what I consider critical; therefore, I can conserve mana by leaving that healing to the priests whose spells are better at it.

Pakt begins to ready himself near the shelter’s exit, his hand resting on his sword handle, he reaches for his shield.

“What’s wrong?” Stell asks.

We can probably guess, the noise from outside is getting very loud. Our concerns are only made worse when someone screams out, “they are over running the front!”

“Shit.” Pakt spits, drawing his sword.

I quickly finish the last wound in the room before I find my own shield and the bronze sword. I took the belt off to sleep earlier and I work to tie it back on.

“We may need to pull back.” Pakt says.

There are no wounded people coming in right now because of the action outside. I follow Pakt out the shelter, avoiding my curiosity to look over the trench. The tower next to the command tent has a large number of arrows sticking out from it.

Goblin howls are so close I believe they have managed to at least reach the first trench line. Shouts continue to come through as the militia at our current line fire arrows out.

“They are breaking through!”

“Did the gob’s take the front already?”

Arrows fly over head, one of the archers nearby takes a hit, I quickly kneel down next to him, remove the arrow, and heal the wound.

“Ah, thanks…”

“You’re good?” I ask.

“Yeah, it feels fine.”

I get back up and look to where Pakt is, he stayed close to me.

“Alright, let’s go.” he says before turning back to the triage outpost.

“Stell, shelter any wounded here, we’ll try to recover anyone injured outside for a while!”

He turns back to me and I nod to confirm what we are going to do.

Together we make our way along the trench, one goblin manages to come into view. Its leather covered shield is full of arrows as it charges through to the trench. An arrow pierces into its knee causing it to fall. One archer fires into the exposed area between the goblin’s neck and shoulder.

The goblin writhes a little before bleeding out. Pakt and I continue through as I tend to the arrow wounds along the way. I start feeling like this may be a bad idea when a larger group of goblins breaks through and leaps into the trench, engaging in melee.

Pakt checks over the trench to see if anymore will come before he runs forward, praying a goblin’s spear with his shield. Now exposed, the goblin cannot protect its left arm from Pakt’s swing. The hand falls off, cut from the wrist and Pakt follows up his slash with a trust into the goblin’s armpit.

It does not die right away; however, the goblin’s strength quickly fades as the dirt covered snow becomes stained with blood.

“Baeka!” someone shouts.

I turn to see a militia, laying on the ground near a goblin. The goblin is held down with a spear driven into its chest, struggling to resist before it dies. The militia, Baeka is desperately holding their neck as blood runs from their fingers.

I run in, diving onto my knees next to Baeka. With left hand I hold their head while I use my other to push my fingers under his hand. I quickly find the cut and the source of the severe bleeding. Baeka’s strength is leaving him fast.

Focusing on the main artery and blood vessels I use healing magic to join the cut parts of the tubes together. The rushing flow of blood slows as I feel with my fingers to help focus on the damage.

The blood flow stops, not because his heart beat stopped, I can feel the slow beats along his artery which is now properly healed. I quickly think back to the chige I had practiced on, fortunately I had much more experience with healing mirt blood vessels before I had a real situation like this.

Baeka has; however, lost a lot of strength. I look to the friend who called his name out.

“I stopped the bleeding, get him to the temple!”

“R... right!”

I look around and find another militia holding the right side of their abdomen. I come towards her and quickly heal the deep flesh damage to their side. I avoid touching the wound to since my hands are not washed. I sometimes have a habit of touching to help focus my mana.

The others around me just had bruises from blows that did not penetrate through their thick wool.

Behind us a reserve force runs through the trench, we stand to the side to give them room as they make their way to the front. The fighting up ahead is still going, I turn to pakt again.

“Should we follow?”

“Yeah, we will stay behind the reinforcements in case you can heal someone bleeding out like that.”

While keeping my head down I can overhear the sound of shields crashing against blades, arrows whizzing both ways, and shouts from mirts and goblins very near by. I do not want to look, it seems whenever someone does peek over to fire an arrow another arrow flies back at them.

It is also dark and difficult to see far away. I am worried someone may shoot an arrow at me by accident. The leather cap I am wearing will do little to stop a direct hit from an arrow. At best it will dull a blade from cutting into my skull.

As we move forward I encounter more wounded mirts along the way, more have stab wounds and bone breaks than arrow wounds. I mend the damage well enough that only the surface of the wound seems injured.

Even the bone wounds are not too difficult so long as it is just a crack. If the bone was completely split or shattered it would take me much longer. That kind of healing would be best to combine my high focus healing with Patyr’s grand healing spell.

“Drive them back!” I hear shout.

Looking in that direction I find a reasonably armoured man rallying those around him. Pakt moves close before tapping his shoulder.

“Uncle!”

Farl turns to Pakt, “You brought Kordi up here? Well, that will help. The goblins are breaking through our lines we can’t safely bring our wounded back.”

That does explain how we had fewer wounded being brought to the triage outpost. Near Farl I can find a few injured mirts laying around the trench, I listen into Farl’s conversation as I being treating them.

“The goblins began blindly rushing in, set off all the traps we had but they continued to rush. Too dark to really shoot them down but at least they are running in before building up their numbers.”

“How’s the front?” Pakt asks.

“Occupied in melee, I just got out of there when Varrel showed up to relieve us so we can pull back to rest and heal the wounded. A few died in there though.”

Farl’s full equipment is a little better than Pakt’s as Farl has metal gauntlets and greaves. Over the steel cuirass plate he wears a heavy wool coat with patches of reinforcing leather. It definitely looks like he is warm underneath it all.

He checks over the trench quickly before inspecting those around him. I have been tending to the serious wounds and Farl looks over the wounded. He asks their condition and sorts out who is ready to rejoin the front.

“Right then, everyone well enough to fight will move up with me. Pakt, keep Kordi covered and follow behind us, we need to recover as many mirts as we can.”

With that, Farl banged his shield twice and took point to reinforce the front. I follow along with everyone, mimicking them as they hold their shield high to protect against any arrows lobbing into the trench.

I inspect bodies as they advance, goblin corpses mix in with mirt bodies. Some of the bodies are already cold and dead; however, I find a few seriously wounded. A few of them were unconscious from a blow to the head. At least it seemed like a blow to the head.

Nearby I would find some flat gobite arrowheads that result in releasing a small magical impact. Which is more dangerous against hard armour; however, against a leather cap the result is a concussion.

Healing the injury is very difficult for me since there is not a specific point that is damaged. Just a lot of rattling causing a little trauma throughout the brain. When I do find someone like that, I request two militia to carry them to the temple.

I find a few mirts along the way who had taken serious leg injuries resulting in a lot of blood loss. The leg injury made it too difficult for them to make a trip to the triage or temple while their comrades were busy fighting.

Further to the front the snow trench becomes much more grim. Bodies of goblins pile along side of mirts. The number of dead to wounded begins to tip more towards the dead. Goblins hanging onto their last bit of life are also finished off .

Goblin attacks from the woods slows down as we secure the front line and join up with those fighting along the trenches closer to the woods. The goblins did not try to secure a trench before continuing forward, it seemed they just dropped a few off as they raced through the field.

Maybe this was the result of the advanced parties agitating the goblins into attacking in a frenzy. The lack of coordination allowed pockets of mirts to hold their positions which were mostly in tact when we arrived. Many had some form of wound, most are bruises or shallow cuts.

Had the attack continued at this pace the defense may have been ground down; instead, I am working on recovering the serious wounds that would take a week to recover from with normal healing spells. Once they visit the temple for general healing they will be ready to fight again by sunrise.

I encountered Arga and some of the mercenaries he was with, including Doore and some of the other magicians. They were breaking up the snow ice traps while finishing off the surviving goblins trapped in its effect.

Varrel is nearby having a talk with Farl while the two look over the defensive line. I come close enough to hear a few topics they talk about while healing someone nearby. Adapting their defenses seems to be the important issue on their minds.

Plans for strengthening the trench lines so the goblins cannot just jump in easily and ways to collect them into more magic trap zones are discussed between them. However, the greatest challenge for their plans is the goblins continue to send harassing attacks from the woods.

Occasionally a goblin or koblin skirmisher will fire an arrow from the woods before withdrawing back into the darkness. They rarely hit from that range, the night works in our favour as well by limiting their accuracy just as it limits our own.

When the most critical injuries are tended too and the rest all make their way to the temple to finish their treatment I return to the triage outpost with Pakt. I can already feel my mana is getting a little low from that work and I anticipate more at the shelter.

Pakt opens the canvas curtain for me and I pass under his arm. The fire inside is still going under a small flame, the coal bed glows nice. I can smell the scent of Stell’s tea inside.

“Thank the goddess you both are alright.” she says with relief, “but you both are covered in blood.”

I quickly look around to see what is waiting for me, there are only three wounded mirts inside.

“Is it just these three?” I ask.

“There were four more and their wounds were not bad. They could make the trip to the temple.”

“Ah, thanks.” I reply, turning my attention to the wounded inside.

Both injuries were not terribly bad, two of them had climbed out of the trench and were struck by arrows in their legs while the third sprained his ankle on uneven ground. Stell had felt it would be best for them to stay and recover here.

I feel more relaxed with this news after expecting a lot of work to be waiting in the shelter. I quickly mend the simple wounds and lay on the bedding in one of the corners to rest. I do not remember the conversations I had with Stell and Pakt as I drift to sleep.

Blaring horns wake me again, at first I feel like I am still dreaming while my body is numb and heavy from sleeping. However, the nearby rustling in the shelter followed by Pakt cursing to himself let me know that it is not a dream.

I force my eyes open and pull myself up. The sound comes more from the north this time.

The movement of defenders outside confirms this as people relocate back north.

I begin to sort my equipment to leave again when a horn from the southern woods is heard.

“Shit! Both sides now?” Pakt fumes as he works on fastening his armour’s straps.

Some of the relocating defenders make their way back in the confusion.

During this I check my own armour which has become loose and shifted while I slept. After refitting the bronze cuirass over the thick wool I finish preparations by slinging my bag of medical equipment onto my back.

Stell awkwardly fidgets inside the shelter, there is not much to do right now and she anticipates that more work is going to come. I quietly nod to her as I depart and she replies with a simple smile before leaving through the shelter’s tarp door.

The morning light fills the area now mixed with snow, mud, and blood. Cold air stings my face as the faint light from the rising sun tries to warm it.

I take position behind Pakt as he considers the situation for the moment. The northern defenses will be attacked first; however, the temple is close by. I feel staying in the southern field would then be more important and judging from Pakt’s actions, he is favouring his attention to the southern forest.

The repositioning of our defense is a little panicked as the recently trained militia tries to organize itself. The adventurers and mercenaries who are easily identified by their equipment are more collected while they attempt to rally their subordinate militia into position.

Pakt begins to lead me closer to the southern forest as the traffic of people calms down. We can hear the next wave drawing closer as the two of us weave through the snow trenches now packed down so hard it feels almost like stone.

Goblin attacks from the north sound out as the approaching wave from the south begins to emerge. Soon after I can see the effect of the magic traps encasing goblins in ice from over the top of the trench.

The goblin attack hits the first line of defense as Pakt and I reach the second to start taking wounded.

“Bring your wounded here!” Pakt shouts to inform some of the militia in reserve.

The first of the wounded to arrive were injured from arrows and thrown spears from the initial attack. The clash at the front has held enough for some to pull back for treatment.

I quickly get to work, rushing my hands as fast as I can to check the wound, focus healing on the deep trauma, and finish with sealing up the blood loss.

The pace is fast and I fumble up by dropping some of my tools occasionally; however, the line of wounded in our trench is growing fast. I can count at least one extra wounded in the line for every three I heal.

“Its all right Kordi, you can take it easy.” Pakt says to reassure me.

I notice sweat is running from my nose which I wipe on my shoulder. The shaking of my hands from the pace is troubling; however, I feel close to learning something with every patient I work at this fast pace with.

The small details in my hand movements, the mental focus to quickly accomplish the task quickly is still clumsy for what I want. I look to the next patient and think to myself that he is practice, I do feel a little bad about that kind of mentality.

Trying different things to shed off even a fraction of a second yields enough results to refine my process.

I take another look at the line to find it has shrunk as new wounded decide to turn back instead of wait. This troubles me to push myself harder even if Pakt shows concern at my pace. My mana is running low; however, I found a sustainable amount to spend in a period of time.

While near my mana’s limit I am more sensitive to how much mana I recover over time, thus, refining the amount I can spend on healing to avoid running out. Pushing my mana spending to this point is also forcing me to find other ways to heal wounds.

Stopping the bleeding requires the small tubes that the blood flows through to be reconnected; the tricky part is that these tubes branch off into smaller and smaller tubes. Feeling for these would be impossible for me if I do not focus on finding the leaks.

Normally a healer would flood the area with mana that would heal the damaged area. The thing is, if I focus on the blood vessels and not the damaged tissues then I spend less mana while dealing with the specific blood loss.

There are also some tissues that are less important to heal like layers of fat. The elastic tissues instead, hold the wound closed allowing the rest to normally recover.

My current hurdle is finding a fast way to identify these parts within each layer.

Blood vessels too small to feel with my mana can actually be found from the leaking blood, if the leak is too great and has not become a clot I can feel the leak.

The greatest hurdle is reconnecting the elastic tissues to close the wound up. If I just close the outermost layer then it would leave an open space inside that would become like a blister.

Thus, my priority is to seal the deepest layers first. The clumsy part for me is timing the repair of a layer’s elastic tissues with the blood vessels. Without the elastic layer closing the open wound then I cannot easily line up the blood vessels to heal.

Inside my head I run through the process as I repeat it again and again. Organ layer, Muscle layer, Skin layers. If I take too many short cuts closing any of these layers up the wound is going to open again, especially since these people are going to go back and fight.

While many of the wounded from the front are more experienced veterans, a few less experienced defenders show up for treatment. I can tell the difference easily as the less experienced ones are in less of a rush to return to the fight.

Those whose wounds need some time to rest are directed to the shelter where Stell can banage and watch them. The bandage is mostly to restrict movement to keep the wound from opening again.

I only notice the condition of the battle when two goblins break through and attempt to attack us inside the trench. Pakt thrusts his sword into one as it jumps into the trench, while severely injured, the goblin attempts to fight while Pakt wrestles it down.

He strikes the goblin’s face with his shield before drawing a knife out and jabbing into the goblin’s eye. Pakt draws his sword from the limp corpse while turning to face the other goblin who is held back by a lightly injured adventurer’s shield.

The goblin notices Pakt just as he swings his blade, evading enough to avoid a serious cut. However, the adventurer take the opening to run in and tackle the goblin closer to Pakt.

With a second swing Pakt cuts into the goblin’s neck, partially severing it to fall limb with the rest of the body.

“Looks like we can’t move back.” Pakt comments as he looks around.

I take notice as well that the sound of the battle has begun to envelope around us on both sides and I begin to change my healing priorities.

Some wounds are very quick for me to work with, during the brief panic during the goblin attack I pick out a few of these quick injuries. During this, my mana recovers a little bit allowing me to invest that surplus mana into a more serious injury on someone else.

At first, I can feel some confusion from others when I jump around between different patients without any clear order. After a while they seem to get the idea when I do a few easy patients that recover my mana before doing a more intensive patient.

Just as we adjust to this pace more goblins begin to break through as I work on a serious injury. The rush of adrenaline pushes my limit to run through my process, in the corner of my eye I can see a goblin running towards me. The others are too occupied around me and I have not counted their number.

The injury I am working on is a deep chest wound that pierced part of his lung, the lung cannot draw air in if there is a hole in the chest, the space between the ribs and the lung has to be sealed to allow the lung to inflate.

Rib muscles do not need much effort and I quickly ment the large blood vessels.

The goblin steps within range, raising its spear to ready a thrust. I pull my shield strapped to my back over my left shoulder as I watch the spear point. Angling my shield I deflect the spear away and tackle into the goblin’s lower body.

I do not budge it; however, I stop it allowing the man I just healed to draw his dagger to attack. The goblin raises its hand to block the dagger. From under the shield I draw my bronze short sword and aim for the back of the goblin’s left knee cutting the tendon and ligaments.

This makes the goblin fall on its back. With only a left hand free, the goblin tries to grab at me, exposing an unprotected armpit. I dig the point of my blade into this spot, severing a major artery and cutting off the goblin’s control over this arm.

“Kaaaaaaaa!”

Letting out a scream as it struggles, the blood loss from its leg and arm injuries drain the goblin’s strength. The patient with me manages to get his dagger free and finishes the goblin off by stabbing into its throat.

In the aftermath of that fight more became wounded and two died.

The sun reached noon by the time the goblin attack withdrew, at this time I have reached a point of exhaustion where I could only keep going from a constant surge of adrenaline and even then the winter chill was piercing through.

Looking around at everyone’s faces I can recognize them all because at some point I have treated an injury of theirs at least once. Even Pakt came to me with an injury when a goblin stabbed his abdomen with a dagger through the opening under his steel cuirass.

Stell managed to remain safe in the shelter which is next to the southern defense’s commanding post. When Pakt and I arrive back at the shelter, it is packed full of defenders recovering.

My mana is barely recovering because of my exhaustion, I need food and rest before I can do more healing. Noticing this, Pakt says, “Kordi, we’ll head back into Calbin for food and medicine. We might find a place to rest after we wash some of the chill off our bodies.”

I simply nod, shivers from the cold are creeping in and my hands are sore enough that forming a fist causes my hands to shake.

As we head back to Calbin I notice that smoke is already rising from some of the buildings. Inside we find some burnt roofs that had water splashed upon the flames. The water has now frozen into icicles hanging from the charred wood. Further towards the temple the cleanup of goblin corpses is underway.

The bodies are being thrown against the other side of the north wall to reinforce it after the salvageable equipment is stripped. It must be a grim sight from the other side to see corpses used in the wall buried amidst the bloody snow.

I follow Pakt in a slight daze, even this walk feels restful in some way, and we reach the temple. Its wooden doors broken in places where new planks of wood have been nailed to patch it up. Judging by the bloodied snow around the area there was quite the fight here.

Inside the temple I find it is packed with wounded, more so than when I first arrived. Some of the people inside are young and old, non combatants who were caught up in the fighting.

“Oh my! Kordi are you alright?”

I turn to my left to find Aera, Lara’s younger sister approaching me with an expression of great distress.

“Ah! He’s just exhausted, we’re just here to get some supplied.” Pakt responds.

“Oh… well, we may not have much left.” Aera glances away for a bit, “Everything became really hectic and a lot of supplies were taken by the defenders.”

Taken? I make my way into the basement to find that the stocks of medicine are all gone. Even the experimental batches I was making. The only thing really remaining are more people staying down here to seek shelter.

Pakt stayed with Aera, when I return upstairs he had been asking about what happened to the temple during the goblin attack. He seems more concerned about Lara than the temple. I would guess that she is upstairs either resting or healing.

The temple’s main floor is either a waiting area or a recovery area.

After leaving the temple empty handed Pakt speaks up, “Well, looting medicine during a siege is not a good thing. Most of those guys probably won’t know what it does anyway so it will just go to waste.”

I continue to follow along without saying anything. I don’t feel upset by this, just a little troubled.

“I’ll bring it up with Uncle Farl, we will need some of the faelin so disease does not break out. Probably anyone who found shelter in the basement snuck some away” Pakt continued to say as he walked to the Manor.

The route back to the manor from the temple is not very far; however, weaving between a new crowd of militia and regular villagers who are cleaning up and making repairs took some more time.

Much of the houses are still partially buried in snow and the narrow path became congested Pakt and I approach the manor while I eagerly anticipate warming up the tips of my fingers and toes that are quickly becoming numb.

My hands are wrapped in cloth bandages still, which become wet over time. Especially when treating wounds. I have run out of dry bandages and have not found any clean ones in the shelter or the temple where the bandages are needed for wounds.

My feet have some simple cloth socks inside leather boots which have accumulated a lot of moisture from walking in the snow before entering warm buildings. I would like to dry these out as well.

The discomfort I feel prevents me from feeling the fatigue as much so, I will take that as some kind of small blessing.

Before the manor, Pakt and I take notice of the traffic ahead. There are a number of people seeking shelter in the manor, while approaching I overhear a few sentences.

“Do you think it would be safe inside?”

“They have warm food.”

“Probably eat more than our rations.”

As far as I am aware, the manor uses the same rations, they just prepare their food with better spices and cooking skill. However, the group outside begins to quiet down as they notice Pakt walking through in his armour.

We make it inside without any problem, I caught a few distant words as we entered the manor from the crowd outside. Words like “is that blood?” and “what happened to them?” were spoken.

I had a slight concern that the crowd would be upset that Pakt and I are entering the manor, which is a warm place with food while some of the other houses are pretty damaged. I looked over Pakt and myself before realizing that we are both very bloody.

Not the kind of appearance someone would want to bother you with.

“Welcome back Pakt, Sir.” a male servant greets us.

He is one of the older servants, being around forty years old, and I notice that he is wearing leather and wool over his clothes with a short sword sheathed to his side.

“Kordi, go ahead and wash up first.” Pakt says to me before turning to the servant, “Is my uncle here?”

“Yes, in the dining hall. You both should see him first, he was asking for the two of you.”

“Alright, come along then Kordi.”

I was a little annoyed that I couldn’t wash and warm up. I will have to follow Pakt along, taking off some of my cold and wet layers to see if that will warm me up. The cold clings to the wetness and my tired body cannot keep itself warm enough to heat the clothing up.

Passing through the main hall we enter the dining room to find the usual assembly of figured, Farl, Varrel, and Esken along with the other important faces. Including, what’s his face? I can’t remember his name, but he is one of the advisors or officers Farl is often with.

I do not mind the man from my limited experience with him, I just forgot his name.

“Good, you are here with Kordi.” Farl says after we enter.

The mood is very different from the last time, which was already drim. Now, everyone’s attitude is enhanced by their dirty and tired appearances.

At least it is not just me and Pakt who are in this condition.

Though, I can tell Farl has had less sleep than myself from the dark bags under his eyes.

Pakt and I take seats at the dining table before Farl asks, “anything to report?”

“We were planning on restocking our medicines at the temple only to find the temple’s stocks are gone.” Pakt answers.

“Yes, I have been informed recently. Someone spread a rumour about the temple using some kind of miracle medicine so, when we opened the doors for the basement to be used as a shelter the place was looted.” Farl replies.

Farl rests his head on his left hand, his elbow propped over the table to hold himself.

“The rumour probably originated from Kordi healing people, either way I am not going to dispatch the manpower to do anything. We will need it for what we are planning right now.”

“What is the plan?” Pakt asks.

“First, go wash up. We eat after, that might help clear up our heads.” Farl replies, rising from his seat.

The others rise as well, everyone could use a wash, a meal, and some sleep.

I certainly feel heavy rising back up from my seat, yet I am eager to get rid of the sticky salt feeling on my skin. The smell of blood and medicine is just something I am getting used too, I am not old enough to develop the kind of strong odor that the adults have.

Being around Pakt’s body odor has taught me the strong smell of adults, something I would be comfortable without knowing.

While in my strange daze, I have followed the men to the washing room, Esken had separated from us. Their topic did not interest me, it is about the kind of delays that any reinforcements would face along the road.

Which is a serious topic, I only really begin to pay attention to it while I begin washing. The water helps wake my mind a little.

“Twenty days is too long to wait, I do not think there would be any way for a Corrin response to make their way through the snow any faster.”

“If we abandon the city, we will be able to reach the army faster.”

“Damn horrible thing to think of.”

“I understand Varrel’s view Barkel, it would take a few days by foot to reach the army while traveling light.”

“A few days on foot in the cold would be impossible for the common mirts to make that distance in time.”

“Arga is right, we would also be open to more attacks, only soldiers would make the trip.”

Oh, Arga is in the group as well, I finally take notice. Barkel is the officers I forgot the name of. Looking at Arga, the eldest one here, he is clearly worn out as he washes away dried blood caught in his hair.

Comparing bodies, Arga’s has the most scars, close combat as a mercenary must have put him against many spears, blades, and bows. Varrel; however, has the strongest appearance, his muscles are very well built easily visible from his lean shape.

I would then rate Pakt next simply because he is not too lean or worn out. That may be because he has been a little more relaxed.

The others inside are officers I have seen entering the southern field’s command post at different times. The medical shelter across from the command post gave me a view as they come and go. Most are adventurer or mercenary group leaders.

I do not know much about what they report on, my observations of their equipment does indicate they are equipped for being in the bushes.

They are often covered in snow, pine branches, and almost painted in dirty patterns to make their silhouette difficult to see. During the goblin attacks a few of these similar equipped defenders came by with wounds.

Pakt would usually chat with them after my treatment while the rest and drink some faelin tea. The parts of their conversations tell of their covert actions, hiding among the snow and bush to scout and harass the goblins.

Without all of the equipment and camouflage they appear much thinner while still muscular. They probably do not eat much while spending long periods of time sneaking around, a very difficult position.

“Well, that mostly leaves us two options, we will discuss more in the dining hall.” Farl comments.

The rest nod in silence, there is no playful banter between each other as each of them are tired and tense.

“The rest who will be involved will arrive as well, we need to make a choice before the goblins regroup for another attack.” Farl continues to say.

We gather up our dirty clothes to redress, my clean skin is irritated by the sweaty dirty clothes I had been wearing for a few days. I had become used to regular cleaning while in Calbin, oddly enough during a siege.

After that, our group makes our way back to the dining hall. A clean Esken and two other women, adventurers by my guess, come out from the room next to us. Another washing room I suppose.

Inside the dining hall two more guests have arrived, they have also taken the brief end to goblin attacks to clean up before arriving.

“Yonas and Niya, thank you for coming.” Farl greets them.

“Of course,” Yonas replies.

“We might as well get some food in our bellies while we wait.” Barkel adds, taking a seat.

Pretty soon after finding a seat the manor servants come with pots of the usual ration stew, bread, and pickled vegetables.

I do not mind it so much, the herbs and spices continue to make these meals tasty. The mood lightens a little as more guests show up, packing the long table.

“So, Sir Varrel, this is the boy you brought who not only helped heal most of our wounded but he also made the sithril hammer you use?” Yonas asks.

My attention startles a little as the room of over twenty people focuses on me, I happen to be gnawing on a stale crust of bread. I take notice of Varrel who gives me a look as if he wants to distance himself a little more.

“I can appreciate what the kid has done for us, but I have to ask why he is here?” one of the officers asks.

“I suppose we should start on that topic.” Farl replies, before he looks over to Varrel.

Upon noticing this, Varrel speaks, “The damage we have taken from the recent goblin attack overran the northern palisade while the attacks on the southern field slowly bleeds us of our numbers. We are considering a plan of attack to shatter the goblin’s leadership.”

The mood turns tense, one officer speaks up first, “Have we not been doing so already?”

“Our small ambushes have indeed disrupted the organization of the goblins,” Yonas replies, “However, that is only at the lower ranks. These low ranking goblins are less disciplined and easily baited into attacking without support. Since the goblins cannot secure enough food and shelter to properly mass their numbers we can keep their ranks thin.”

Everyone nods.

“The problem we encountered with this last attack was that our infiltration groups did not provoke it. The attack was made by a more organized force which my infiltration group was able to spot a strong and well equipped group leading. They were bodyguards for a warlord who observed the attack.”

“Next time, we can expect this warlord to take advantage of this recent attack and bring a force capable of defeating us.” Varrel adds.

“So, we attack the warlord then? Where has he gone?” Barkel asks.

“South east,” Yonas answers, “Six hours by foot if we are careful to avoid too much contact.”

“Shit… gotta go through a lot of goblins to get him. Do we wait for him to come closer?”

“No.” Varrel states, “We bring a large infiltration group, no more than twenty four to remain difficult to see.”

“A few other groups should move out to cause some disruption to draw goblins away from the area while those remaining in Calbin must remain ready to defend. We do this, or we dig in and desperately hold off the inevitable horde.”

“So, we put up too much of a fight, now the boss is getting serious.” Arga comments.

“I guess we cannot wait for Corrin’s aid then?”

“No, the snow is too deep.”

“I am sure the goblins would have picked through Calbin by then giving them the kind of supplies they need to concentrate themselves enough to attack a small army.”

“Who is in the group then?”

“I will lead the group, I need Yonas to take point to hunt the warlord down, bring three of your best for it.”

Yonas nods, folding his arms together. While he is cleaned up, he is wearing a long wool coat that has a messy mix of woodland dyes smeared over it while bits of loose string hand all around the coat. I have seen the string used to tie on small branches.

“Arga, yourself and five others skilled in close combat will form the vanguard that clears a path through the warlord’s guards. Have them selected and ready, pick anyone you trust for the job.”

When that is said, I can see a few of the faces in the room turn to Arga, showing off stern looks of determination. In particular, Esken’s glare is so piercing that Arga looks like he can feel it but he chooses to awkwardly avoid eye contact with her.

“I will pick out ten more, skilled in archery and close combat who will fill the bulk of our force. The remaining three will be Niya, a skilled and experienced healer within Yonas’ adventurer company, Pakt who should have plenty of experience as a healer’s guard by now.”

“Then… the last one is.” Pakt beings to reply while glancing over to me.

I also notice Arga looking towards me, his eyebrows raised, he is not showing surprise. It is an expression that there is not much that can be done about it.

Farl leans forward resting his arms on the table before saying, “We will need to rely on you Kordi to be the second healer.”

Okay, now that I am in better condition to do more writing I can make more progress on this story, only problem would be availability and habit. My new work schedule where I wake up at 4 am and generally get home between 4-5pm leaves me very little time during the week. This wrecked my old writing habits.

Motivation is too fleeting to rely on, gotta discipline myself to a schedule.