In the half light, Jaelin walked between Clamor and Tree, their path fringed by woodland on either side.

  ‘I see them,’ Clamor warned.

  It was confirmation of what they already knew—they were walking into a trap. The goblin mage had suggested they come this way. It was a subtle steer, that Jaelin only perceived because he was getting used to the mage’s attempts to lure them into danger.

  ‘This side, too,’ said Tree.

  Goblins hid among the trees. If they went much farther, the ambush would be triggered. There was something uniquely unsettling about deliberately walking into a trap a wizard had set for them. Jaelin was certain he wouldn’t have gone through with it without the two experienced scouts for company. Even with them, he could barely resist the impulse to flee.

  Ahead of them, a thick patch of undergrowth came into view. He couldn’t see any waiting goblins—yet he was certain they’d be there.

  ‘Stop here,’ Clamor said in his dry voice. ‘I think we’ve gone far enough.’

  They stood still. The other two had their bows at the ready. Jaelin’s stave was secured across his back. His role was to lead them away.

  Whether it was under instruction from the mage, or their own decision, the goblins decided now was the time to act. They poured from the woodland on either side, and Jaelin saw the patch of undergrowth ahead explode with movement.

  Clamor got off five shots; Tree two. When they were done, four goblins lay dead, and a fifth was incapacitated. Not that it made much difference. There were hundreds waiting for them—in a strange way, it felt like a compliment to the three of them.

  Most goblins ran at them at full pelt, spears held in both hands. Others had bows of their own.

  It was time to go.

  Jaelin turned and ran. Clamor and Tree followed him.

  The goblins let out whoops of excitement, and bloodthirsty roars. They had their prey in their sights, and they were not about to let them escape.

  ***

  Not far away, Lothar heard the noise from the chasing goblins, and knew it was time for his squad to do their part. They were gathered beside a large, smooth, grey rock that loomed alone among the flat terrain that lay between Avolo and Eisenberg. It was a spot to retreat to—for there was no doubt, they would have to retreat. Whatever they were able to achieve tonight, it wouldn’t be the defeat of the goblin army.

  He took Mila and Mental aside. ‘You two are staying here. Wait for our return. Chances are, we’ll need you.’

  Jenkins looked unhappy. ‘I get why we need to keep her alive,’ she said, with a nod to Mila. ‘But I’m just as capable of dropping goblins as the rest of you.’

  ‘I have no doubt about that,’ Lothar told her. ‘But our mission is to drop goblins and then get the hell out of there. If you can’t extricate yourself when needed to, then you become a liability.’

  Mental nodded—disappointed, but accepting.

  ‘If we make it out, I’ll be very surprised if there isn’t still fighting to do, if that’s any consolation.’

  ‘A little.’

  ‘Right,’ he said, turning to the rest. Himself included, there were eight of them about to attack a goblin army camp. ‘You’re going to witness what a small number of people with a clear objective and decisive action can do. The goblin army is spread over a large area, into groups each gathered around a fire. From the sounds of it, they’re at least a couple of hundred warriors light, courtesy of our scouts. What’s more, their mage is not expecting us. He’s used some of his magic, and as far as he’s concerned, it worked. The meddlesome scouts will soon be brought before him, probably dead. He’s relaxed.

  ‘This is where Bletcher comes in.’ He gestured to the wizard, who was already wearing his Mask of Magical Warding, and gripped the Staff of Warning. ‘He will use the staff to guide us to the mage, and the mask to suppress the goblin’s sorcery. We take the mage out before the goblins know what’s hit them, and then we get the frig out of there.’

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  Lothar approached Larik the Bludgeoner, and handed him Jaelin’s Rod Of Light. ‘You’re Bletcher’s guide. You help him get where he needs to be. You protect him. You communicate with the rest of us, clear and calm. And you shine that light, nice and bright, on our target.’

  Larik looked less than thrilled with the assignment. ‘I’m not much use at anything that doesn’t involve hitting things,’ he said.

  ‘You’ll do fine,’ Lothar assured him. He hoped he wouldn’t have to spell out that 17 hit points left the Bludgeoner vulnerable to the goblin threat. The bastards might not get you with the first strike, but there were just so many of them.

  Fortunately, Larik accepted his orders.

  ‘Questions?’

  ‘How are we lining up?’ Twerk asked.

  ‘Bletcher and Bludgeoner at the back. I’m the tip of the spear on this one. Keep up with me. Pecs and the Hoffmeister on my shoulder. Twerk, Fortune, and Smoke, be ready to remove any barriers. Remember, this is not standing in a shieldwall. This is fast—in and out. If we stop, for any reason, we’ve had it.’

  Lothar struck just as the goblins were settling down for the night. He broke through a barely existent defensive cordon by going straight for a single goblin, despatching it on his first swing of Slayer. He moved on before the corpse hit the ground, Pecs and The Hoffmeister following on either side.

  Their next obstacle was a dozen goblins, caught in the middle of preparing their evening fire.

  ACTION ROUND

  As Lothar advanced on the nearest, Smoke’s thrown dagger spun past him, lodging in the chest of a goblin, and bringing it down to 6 hit points.

  Lothar attacked. Slayer and the Shield of Resistance accounted for six of the goblins, plus finished the one Smoke had injured. The Hoffmeister and Pecs used the Spear of Riposte and Breaker to equally ruthless effect. Along with a couple of well placed shield strikes, the pair accounted for the remaining five goblins. The only mopping up required of their back up crew was to finish two goblins Lothar hadn’t quite killed.

  But the mercenary captain took no time to relish success. This was what they needed to do. As soon as their momentum was halted, they would be in trouble—their goblin enemies allowed to respond, and surround them.

  He plowed further into the goblin camp.

  ‘Turn left now,’ The Bludgeoner called out, ‘towards that fire.’ He was clear, and loud—exactly what they needed. Lothar didn’t know what cryptic pronouncements Bletcher was mumbling, and didn’t have the time to worry.

  He led his crew towards a fire that was already alight. There were slightly more goblins gathered here, perhaps a score in all.

  ‘That’s him!’ The Bludgeoner declared, blasting the Rod of Light at a bulky figure wrapped in furs. A horned helmet covered the goblin’s face. Somehow, Bletcher had located their target, whilst also suppressing the mage’s magic.

  ACTION ROUND

  Before Lothar could react, a figure ran past him.

  ‘He’s mine,’ Smoke declared. It only took the agile thief a single action to reach their target. The first two stabs from his assassin’s knife plunged into unprotected spots, and were enough to snuff out the life of their antagonist. He then wasted no time in extricating himself, taking a blow from a goblin spear as he did, for 3 points of damage. He proceeded to run back the way they had come.

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