Drew was in the warehouse, bow in hand. He’d heard the Ogres screaming for the past hour. He, like the others, had heard the horn in the north sound for the second time, too. He didn’t know what it meant, but he assumed it could only mean trouble, that Goblins had decided to take advantage of the Ogres’ attack.

His body shivered, and he screamed inside. He looked at the other villagers, the adults, the ones who had stayed within the warehouse and armed themselves; the children were down below. They were huddled together, some crying, some stoic, ready to fight to save who they could. They knew what the horn meant.

Drew prayed that if the Goblins or Ogres made it inside, that the entrance to the cellar wouldn’t be found; they had stacked barrels and crates atop it to disguise it. He prayed that if he had to give his life, that others would live to fight on.

He kneeled behind the makeshift barrier that had been created by the entrance. He didn’t worry about himself, which was odd, because that’s all he’d done when he first arrived in this new world.

Thoughts raced through his head: how he’d initially been worried and scared, about John finding him, Monty teaching him to shoot a bow, and learning magic. He’d learned magic!

He chuckled to himself at the ridiculousness of it all. I can’t believe how far I’ve come. From being an out of work pencil-pusher to helping build something more than myself. I’ve even learned magic! And now, I may have to fight for my life against foes only known in books! How strange it is to even think about Ogres and Goblins, yet here they are. He sighed deeply. I hope John is alive, and Ivan, and Monty. Please let them be okay. Please, if there is a god here, let them survive. Please let us all survive.

Boom. Boom. Boom.

Drew’s ears perked up at a faint sound heard through the walls. He couldn’t place it at first. Drums maybe? Do Goblins use drums?

Boom. Boom. Boom.

Drew closed his eyes. He wasn’t scared for himself, not this time.

Please let my friends be safe. Please.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Even the Ogres had briefly paused at the sound of the horn. But that wasn’t the reason they continued to stand still, nor was it the reason the villagers stared blankly to the north.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

It wasn’t the wild screams and roars from the Ogres that drew their attention this time; instead, it was the steady cadence of drums in the distance.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Against the mayhem of the battle being fought, the sound was almost soothing if it hadn’t also been so terrifying.

John watched as a line of gray Goblins from the mountain drew near. He wasn’t scared for himself, no.

He was scared for Virgil up in the tower, for Gramps and Gert. He was scared for the orphans who had come for a new life. For Karmen and Bert.

He shook himself out of his daze. He slashed a nearby Ogre across the neck, killing it. It hadn’t moved since the drums had started.

John thought about the Ogres and Goblins. Some ingrained memory maybe? They are descended from Goblins as disgusting as that may be. Maybe they know what the drums mean.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

He ran along the wall. He noticed others taking advantage of the Ogres having paused their attack. But the stupor eventually wore off for them as well as he heard shouts and screams behind him. The attack had begun anew.

He watched as the Goblins came, a gray sea of floppy ears and big black eyes that shown in the sunlight.

He made it to the northwest tower to watch them, fight them if needed. As he stood there, it was then he noticed it. They weren’t headed to the northern wall. They were staying away from the village walking parallel now to it.

John perked up. Maybe they’re here to help! Maybe I had it wrong the whole time! What an idiot I am! Don’t assume anything yet. Just wait. His body vibrated with the drums; they were close now.

The drums continued their cadence; the Goblins marched in step with it.

John squinted his eyes at them, trying to discern their intentions. Maybe he’d even see Vrichik, the traitor.

Boom! The loudest sound yet came from the drums; the Goblins stopped not a hundred meters away. Not a noise came from them. They didn’t move.

John sighed deeply. He held his sword so tightly that his hand began to hurt. He’d hold them off as long as he could.

Movement. The Goblins stayed together, but they began to rustle, first in the back and then moving toward the front.

A head, bigger than the others, pushed its way forward.

“Vrichik,” growled John under his breath.

He walked through the Goblins. When he got to the front, he continued on. Like some unknown signal, the Goblins followed.

Through the screams of agony behind him, John watched, unmoving.

Vrichik put up his hand as he stopped, barely ten meters away from the wall.

“Friend John!” he shouted.

John shivered at the Goblin’s voice. He didn’t answer.

Vrichik took a step forward; John’s grip tightened.

“Ogre attack!” he yelled then spat on the ground. “Nasty, kill many Goblin. We fight for friend John!”

Vrichik smiled his toothy grin. He raised his hand and pointed in the direction of the Ogres.

“For friend John! Kill Ogre!” he screamed and then repeated it in their guttural language.

John’s eyes welled up. He nearly dropped his sword as he became weak. He’d been wrong. They weren’t enemies.

He watched as the Goblins poured forth at the rear of the Ogres.

They slaughtered the ones on the ground below the wall. Screams rang out all along it as the wave of Goblins crashed against the surprised Ogres’ rear.

Still, John didn’t take his eyes off the big Goblin. Vrichik held up a large stick, smiled, and charged after the Goblins, leaving John in stunned silence.

After a moment, John smiled. “For my friends,” he quietly said to himself.

He wiped away a tear, gripped his sword, and took off toward his villagers.

John ran as fast as he could, yelling along the way.

“The Goblins are friends! Don’t attack them!”

“The little guys are friendly! They’re here to help!”

He repeated himself as he ran, all the while attacking Ogres who fought his people.

With the aid of the Goblins, the battle quickly turned in their favor.

The fighting will of the humans inspired John. He looked as Goblin and human alike tore through the Ogres.

In what seemed barely any time at all, only a few Ogres remained. He watched as they too were quickly cut down by his people as they tried to escape. He watched as Goblins chased after fleeing Ogres through the tall grass.

The tension in the air remained however, as now the villagers stood face to face with a clan of Goblins.

To be frank, many of his villagers barely stood at all, leaning on their sword or spear. Others lay on the ground; he hoped exhausted and not dead.

John walked up to a group of his villagers who had surrounded about a dozen Goblins that had climbed over the wall.

He pushed through them and stopped in front of the small gray beings.

John took a deep breath and stepped forward; the Goblins tensed.

But then he did something that surprised the humans and Goblins alike; he dropped his sword.

“Friend Goblins. Thank you, thank you,” he said, his arms outstretched. “I thank you with all my heart for saving my people.”

John stopped talking when he heard grunts from the other side of the wall. He looked at the top of it as a pair of hands grasped it. Then Vrichik’s big head crested it followed by the rest of him. He rolled over the top and landed on the ground with a thud.

The smaller Goblins helped Vrichik stand. He strode through them pridefully, his head up. His toothy grin bigger than ever.

He paused in front of John. “Friend John. We win,” he grumbled out, his arms waved about him.

John smiled back. “Yes, Vrichik. We won. Thank you.”

The big Goblin put out his hand, but John had other plans. He grabbed Vrichik and lifted him off the ground in a huge hug, startling the other Goblins.

“We owe you much Vrichik. I am ashamed to say I thought you came to attack us, to help the Ogres. I am deeply sorry for that. I hope you can forgive me.” His head was bowed in shame.

Vrichik grumbled, shook his head, and smiled. “Always friend. Much bread and fish.” Then he laughed heartily.

“I hate to cut this short Vrichik, but I need to check on my people now that it’s over. I’m scared to say we may have lost quite a few,” he said, his eyes still downcast. “I hope you didn’t lose too many helping us.”

Vrichik huffed. “Too many. Always eat.” He smiled. He turned and said something to the Goblins.

They pushed him up over the wall and scrambled after him.

“I owe him everything,” John said to himself. He took another deep breath and turned to his people.

“I know the battle is over, but there’s still much to do.” As he talked, he looked at the gathering crowd. He saw Ivan and Monty, Vee and Willis, and dozens of others. “We need to get those injured into the hall. I will, um, take care of the dead,” he added, with a stony face. “We also need to gather all the dead Ogres and burn them. There will be time to grieve, time to take stock of what has happened, but we need to get this done first.” He sighed. “Thank you, with everything that I have, thank you.”

He walked through the villagers and thanked them individually. No one was uninjured. The worst were helped to the hall. Others helped push the Ogres over the wall to burn later.

John saw the first victim, the woman he’d seen earlier, dead near the wall.

He kneeled next to her and closed her eyes. In the heat of the battle, he hadn’t recognized her. But now that he was next to her, he saw that it was Sara, one of the original guards who had come with them. A tear rolled down his cheek as he picked her up. He carried her to the southern entrance. People stopped and bowed their heads as he passed them. He laid her gently down. She, along with any others, would be buried soon outside the gates.

He found another villager not too far away under several dead Ogres. Feelings rushed through him, anger, hurt, sadness. He hadn’t even known the man’s name.

He threw the Ogres over the wall, picked up the man, and laid him next to Sara. I didn’t even know his name, he chided himself.

John walked along the wall northward. I will make it a point to learn their names. He continued on, helping throw Ogres over the wall. If they come here, I will learn their names. It’s the least I can do. Still he walked. He made it to the northwestern tower.

He didn’t find a single other body within the walls. And while thankful, he knew there was at least one below.

He looked over the wall. Bodies were strewn about everywhere; there was nowhere he could jump over without landing on one of them. He moved north where the Ogres hadn’t attacked. He jumped over and began the journey south. He noticed movement to the north and saw a single Goblin watching. Always watching, he said to himself. For which I’ll always be grateful.

He dragged countless bodies away from the wall to check underneath for humans. He knew about where the man had been pulled over so he made his way there.

What remained of the man made John vomit. He wasn’t even recognizable anymore; the majority of him had been eaten. He made a mental mark where the body was and moved on. He would need something to collect the parts.

He slowly made his way around the bend in the wall. Other villagers were now outside the walls collecting the bodies into piles.

John made it to the gate; nearly all the fighting had been on the western side of it. Only a few bodies laid to the east. He hadn’t found another body on the walk. He sighed deeply.

Three deaths. Too many but it could have been far more. The gate was lowered so he walked inside the village. He saw people moving everywhere, but one particular person caught his attention. She was kneeling over the man who he’d laid at the entrance.

He quietly made his way over to her. She heard him, or saw him, approach. She stood in front of John, tears streaming down her cheeks. She walked up to him and slapped him across the face. He didn’t move.

Through sobs, the woman spoke. “Alan was a good man. I’ll never forgive you what happened here. What am I going to do without him?” She tried to slap John again, but he caught her arm.

“I- I’m sorry. I wish I could have saved him. I’m sorry,” was all John replied. She openly sobbed as he pulled her close and hugged her. She collapsed to the ground in front of him and crawled back over to Alan. “I, I--.” He didn’t know what to say.

He walked past her, eyes down, and nearly ran into someone. Vee.

She put her hand under John’s chin and lifted it up.

Vee smiled, but had a steel look in her eyes. “Don’t lessen his death, John. Don’t lessen any of them. He knew the risks; they all do. And while she is grieving and no-doubt blames you, if you lessen his death, she will hate you forever. Death is just another part of life here. It’s everywhere. So we will honor him. We will honor all who have died here.” She put her hands on his shoulders. “One thing I’ve learned here is that sometimes the ultimate price has to be paid. She will move past it. We all will. But don’t you dare apologize for him dying. Got it?”

“I get it. We will honor and remember them always,” replied John, feeling a little better at her words. “I’ll have to think of something worthwhile. Maybe a memorial with their names. Something to always remember them by.” He smiled. “Yea, that’s it.” He wiped away a tear.

“Good. Now, a little good news.” She pointed behind her. “We didn’t find any other bodies under the Ogres. We’ve almost cleared them all out, too. A lot of people are injured, some seriously, but Gert and Katelyn are working hard in the hall to get them healed up. Lots are helping.” She paused and put her arm around him. “We’re going to come out stronger from this, John. Literally. Not to put a number on things, but no doubt people leveled from this, maybe quite a bit. I know it’s odd to think of, but it’s one of the good things to come from so much death.”

John smirked and huffed. “One good thing eh? I know it could have been worse. It should have. If Vrichik and them hadn’t showed up, we probably wouldn't be having this conversation right now.”

“You ain’t a kidding. The little buggers were ferocious. I know quite a few of the people here were against trading, even having them around, but I think that’ll change. I know it will.” She slapped him on the shoulder causing him to grimace from a wound he didn’t even realize he had. “Work to do, lots of it. I’ll see you later. Talk to Virgil. I bet he can make something to memorialize the fallen.”

She turned to walk away but then stopped. She walked back to him and gave him a hug. She whispered into his ear, “It’ll be okay. It all will. Always look forward.”

He sniffed his nose and looked forward like she said.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Drew was in the hall helping tend to the wounded. So many, he thought to himself as he looked at the occupied beds and floor space. People laid everywhere, even on tables. He was currently wrapping a bandage around someone's arm.

Gert and Katelyn ran around ordering about those who had hidden in the warehouse and those that were only somewhat injured. Drew counted more than one person missing an eye or an ear. And while no one was missing limbs, the wounds they did have were quite gruesome. Many had chunks of muscle and skin ripped off, presumably eaten. He knew it would grow back, but the sight rolled his stomach.

It had been a couple hours since the fight had ended. John had stopped in briefly to talk to Drew. He wanted his thoughts about where to put a memorial for the dead. Drew told him to do it by the lake where it was peaceful. John agreed.

Only three died. It’s almost hard to believe seeing these injuries. John said if the Goblins hadn’t arrived, no one would probably have survived. That’s scary to think about, he thought to himself, gulping. He moved on to the next person. The two ladies souchered and applied herbs; his job was to wrap in bandages, of which they had already run out, so he now used torn up clothing.

He admired everyone here. No one was complaining. No one quit working. No one belly-ached about what had happened. That’s what kept him motivated. Their spirit. So he would do his job until he wasn’t needed anymore.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was dusk. Fires raged outside the walls as hundreds of Ogres burned.

John and the villagers that were able stood at the lake shore. The three bodies had been buried. Everyone stood silently looking at the memorial that Saul and Virgil had created.

A large obelisk stood near the beach just past the fields. The twenty foot tall stone was smooth and somehow reflected what little light remained. There was a short inscription on the western side facing the village:

Never Forgotten.

Always Remembered

Those Who Lay Here Gave the

Ultimate Sacrifice So That Others

May Live. They Will Forever Be

One of Us.

Alan Thompson Sara Grier James Cummings

Nathan Griggs Richard Bolton

People hugged and cried. John stood behind everyone watching. He read over the names: the two guards who had been killed by the bandits, a farmer named Alan, Sara a guard, and James the barber. No other bodies had been found.

A woman, the woman from earlier, approached John. He grimaced and stood ready for whatever may come.

“Thank you for remembering him,” she said through tears. “I’m sorry for earlier. He’d be ashamed at how I acted.”

John reached out and hugged her. “Think nothing of it. As a matter of fact, why don’t you tell me about him as we walk back to the village hm? I’d love to hear about him,” he replied.

She smiled and nodded. With his arm around her, they led the small gathering back into town. The two chatted and laughed on the walk back. He hugged her once more as they parted ways.

He caught Vee smiling at him and nodding. He smiled back and nodded his thanks. She’d been right, like always.

Rather than going into the hall, he decided to climb the tower above the entrance. He relieved the guard who was stationed there.

He thought to himself as he sat watching south. Quite the price we paid today. It could have been worse. It isn’t the end though either. I know others will be joining us soon. He thought about the Ogres. Something didn’t make sense to him. Why were they way over there? Stanley made several trips south and said there was an abundance of animals and then poof, gone. At the abandoned village, there was no indication that they’d been there either. So why were they way over there? He pondered about the Ogres for quite a while. There were always more questions than answers. But at least, for now, the threat had been dealt with and life would go on.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow is a new day. We’ll move forward. We have to.