Dreamweaver Chapter 149 Part B
Goblin sub-commander POV in Goblin headquarters (happening at the same time as 149 Part A)
“What are they doing? They didn’t try to push us back on the main road?” I voiced aloud.
My shaman assistants know not to answer. I like my slaves to be quiet and docile, and so at first they usually hesitate a few seconds to see if it’s safe to talk. It’s my job to do the thinking and their job to do the actions I require. Even their ugly ass floppy ears are hanging in docile shame like the curs they are.
Both of them are sickly looking from smoking too much of that drug trash that shamans use to help induce hallucinations that they call dreams from their war god. They are also covered in magic tattooing which is how a lot of shamans apply longer lasting war buffs.
Fucking maggots, I spat.
Oops I said that aloud again. I need to be careful what I say mentally huh…
My second mistake was also for my minions to see my disdain for them in front of them openly. Ahh but I probably have messed up on that one too many times to be believed anyway.
Oh well, who cares. They are totally dominated anyway.
I pace the command tent room while I think. I’m considering my next move carefully. I also shake the ache out of my shoulders and back while I pace. And my knives weren’t sharp enough the last time I disciplined my troops.
We can do this. We’ve gone over every possible scenario a hundred times already at least, possibly more. And my troops are way more disciplined and trained than those belonging to the other two sub-commander maggots.
Those two are idiots. Where is their creativity? Their genius? Their perception of their craft being an art? And all they could manage was a full frontal dogfight against the dwarves as a suggestion to help out? I can be way sneakier than that.
“No that won’t do. They’ll expect a full frontal assault. And a dogfight with the dwarves will go in their favor with the dwarven armor that we can very often not even afford a cheap version of,” I said to myself.
I ended up pacing again.
We can avoid the dogfights of man to man on a line if we are clever enough. And that’s my job and I’m pretty good at it. But to manage it means you have to have a lot of alertness and good eyes and spies out there while you think like three steps ahead of the dwarves and their ability to move and defend. I’m also competing with this being their home ground, which is why I had our spies get a good city map months ago to prepare for this.
My command center tent has human skull candles that I’d been supplied with that give off an eerie glow. And true to goblin form, we use red candles, and red wax to give the little bit of light in the room a bloodthirsty feel to make us feel more comfortable. We make them by of course stolen wax from the humans which we mix with blood to color red and add a color preservative, to make candles which we fit inside real human skulls. Having a lot of them in your tent, or cave is a sign of virility and power among my tribe and that of others. After all, if you were a poor hunter you wouldn’t have many skulls. And if you are a poor hunter you don’t get a chance to mate or acquire female breeding slaves and concubines. My collection has nearly two hundred that I’ve culled personally myself, which is a lot more than the other two sub-commanders.
I have two war shamans with me that do my bidding as my slave assistants. They are cowed to bend to my will after months of mental conditioning and beatings. Normally shamans are in charge but I’ve worked hard to turn that around in my units. These two were overlooked as weak in destructive power but what I’d wanted them for was coordinating troop movements by distance and because they could see in the dwarven fortress from afar while the other send mental messages to the troops I’d put down.
Normal goblin commanders don’t always get shamans for slaves. They lack the creativity and intellect to fully dominate and control them properly but I’ve found them to be quite useful. You just make them afraid for their lives at least twice a day so they don’t ever think about taking your spot for their own.
My two shamans are afraid to look me in the eye and stare at the floor while standing in front of the map, waiting for my new instructions. They glance at each other. They are both afraid to speak without being given permission. I still reward them with keeping them alive much longer and with better food than the other commanders do with their slaves.
I’m a kind goblin.
I even let them have a muchly coveted goblin delicacy of boiled human fingers once a month.
There’s also a special jell-O we make using their eyes and blood.
Normal goblin slave owners never treat their minions with such wondrous treats but I do even though it costs me extra.
Ahh I can’t think about that now, it makes me too hungry. Suffice it to say I already have victory celebration feast plans in order.
“Sub-commander Gkrehtsh! Sub-commander Shekh-khur is experiencing heavy fire on the main road inside the dwarven fortress! He requests your aid!” A messenger came in the tent to report. It’s one of the little goblin grunts that were deemed trustworthy but too runty for battle. It’s rare to have trustworthy goblins so we made him a runner instead.
“Cur! Did I give you permission to open your mouth!” I squawked at the newcomer after striking him in the temple with my whip. He hits the ground bruised but not bleeding badly. I don’t really care that the other sub-commander will find out I beat his minion. It wasn’t a valuable slave.
My hands curl around my whip and I’m tempted lash him right now on the spot. The whip is an aristocrat’s elegant weapon designed to train obedience in the inferior. Despite not having much killing power it’s better since it does subjugation well.
“Please sir! Sub-commander Shekh-khur is in trouble! He says only you can save his assault from getting messed up!” the lowly wretch on the floor pleads for his life.
Well that part is true. Those other two were even given a plan that would work and have somehow bungled it still. I wonder which part they screwed up on?
“Ahh, so he admits my superiority does he?” I said.
I can’t help it. I know I have a little pride but still…what’s life if you can’t live a little?
Needless to say that fool Shekh-khur is in the wrong spot again. He wasn’t even supposed to be on the main road the fool. I don’t know right now if he’s just lost or trying to exploit the other sub-commanders troop movements. Shekh-khur was supposed to down the west side, not the main central road. But he might be trying it to piggy back off the gains and efforts of the other sub-commander that was supposed to go down the main road and advance to the south. From there he probably thought he could break west at some point using the other sub-commanders forward momentum.
Yeah, that latter part is probably what he did. He’s known to cheat and steal the work of others. I’d seen it in the past. He also didn’t realize he’s allowing the dwarves to concentrate their defensive ring around the main central area, which is why both offensives together in one have become trapped so easily. They also forgot there are a lot of natural defensive areas built in the central plaza of the dwarves on the main road and that might be part of why they got bogged down. Dwarves think about things like that and I’d warned the other two not to underestimate their sneakiness and crafting.
Part of going to the west was to divide up their numbers, which is a proven goblin strategy stemming from our ability to outbreed the dwarves. That’s why you divide them up, so you can pick them off easier from the shadows.
The fool is ignoring our natural strengths.
I’d resisted bothering them so far and taking their troops for my own because there was a rumor one of them was the Old One’s grandson and I didn’t want to piss him off. When I can properly find out which one it is then the one that isn’t his blood relative will feel the edge of my knife very soon, if the dwarves don’t cure him of stupidity first.
“He…he’s even willing to give you one of his human concubines to help him out this time,” the messenger said.
Oh, what was that? No way?! What a princely gift! That sounds utterly delicious. I can’t help but wipe the slime off the bottom of my chin. Oh that’s the good part. Who doesn’t love acquiring concubines?!
I just love human girls too. More than any other type of race in this world, they are perfect for breeding goblin pups. And they kick less and fight back less than the others.
Who doesn’t like a good reward every now and then?
“Are you sure? That sounds like a big price to pay,” I had to confirm this. If it’s a bluff I’ll cut out both the messenger’s tongue and the other sub-commander.
There are three sub-commanders in charge right now with the main commander giving us a wide berth to work our mayhem and prove ourselves. Right now my troops hold the eastern side of the city. While the others were busy concentrating their troops on looting I’d maintained discipline in my troops and forced them to put killing dwarves and taking territory first, by explaining to them how the other way around is putting the cart before the horse.
And it’s true.
The main plan that we’d gone over for so long was to have sub-commander Ghauroz take the main road into the dwarven fortress while sub-commander Shekh-khur was to take the west side. I was to take the east section while those two tried to not bungle things. Last I’d checked I was the only one to have completed my objective. The other two had gotten bogged down while I’d even gotten my job done way ahead of schedule.
Now we’re past the allotted time to achieve each job and the other two are no closer than they were at the beginning. I checked my watch again. War strategy is all about timing, so checking my watch and matching it with the troop movement distances achieved in each given slot of time has become a favorite hobby of mine, next to skinning small human young.
You could say they ran into bad luck by running into the dwarven hero but that’s not completely true. They could have pulled back and sent waves around the enemy hero; or swarmed several streets at once. The enemy dwarven hero can’t be in every street at once.
I’m surprised those two have been sub-commanders this long because they are so sloppy and don’t think things through like a true commander should. They need to be broader and have an open mind and spend less time drinking bloodwine too actually.
Gosh, I love bloodwine. I wish I could drown in a giant cup of it on some of my off days but that would be letting my guard down which is really bad. But I purposely hold back on it because I’ve felt its seduction making me want to languish my life inside of it.
The commander will reward me handsomely, since I’m the only one that achieved their objective. I might even be given a unit of hob-goblin troops for a reward. I found myself drooling. I liked collecting exotic units too. I can’t help but yip in joy at my good fortune. My section of town even had its little hero wannabe types and adventure scum but I was better at sneaky shit and attacking them while their pants were down than the other two were.
Now those scum are no more or have fled, probably to die from poisoning or amputation surgeries. Ever since the 17th great goblin jihad three centuries ago, none of the so called ‘good races’ have had proper healing mages either when we nearly took over the world with the orcs then.
It’s time we made another such jihad like then. If we start things off and gather support maybe it’s not impossible if we had several tribes coming together…
“Sir, your orders?” one of the blood shamans asked. He waits patiently. I could test him and make him stand there for discipline awhile but I’ve decided not to do that today. We’ll need all our stamina on things that matter.
“Right. OK, messenger tell Shekh-khur I’ll help him if he puts all his lieutenants under my command. They must do exactly as I say if they want to live through the night. Remind him what happens to those that have failed the Old One in the past just so he doesn’t think I’m trying to mess him up,” I said.
“Isn’t that a bit dramatic sir?” the other shaman said. Ahh that guy, still looks wall-eyed from all the beatings I’ve given him over the years. It wasn’t my fault. At the time I thought he was ogling one of my human concubines and I put him in his place a little too heavily. Then I realized I was wrong. I’ve wanted to fix it for awhile. If he does well this time, I’ll have his eyes fixed as a reward, I tell myself.
I glared at my minion. He knows he shouldn’t have said that right then though.
The runty filth of a messenger already took off, thank goodness. When was the last time he bathed? Even for a goblin runt it was the most awful smell. It smelled like he’d shat on himself.
Right…that fool shouldn’t be questioning my orders. He’s been told that over and over again. His eyes widen as he sees what’s coming to him. So I proceeded to beat that shaman upstart profusely with several lashes.
“Fool! It isn’t easy to get sub-commander Shekh-khur to see reason. His pride is humongous. He’ll even sacrifice his own pups for his pride! I’ve seen it myself! And if he and that other piece of trash don’t achieve their objectives the Old One will kill them horrifically in public in ways that we can’t even dream of. He doesn’t tolerate failure!” I said.
By the Old One, I mean the commander. He’s old and very tired most the time but has a keen mind and still on top of his game despite sleeping a lot lately. He’s the one who has been planning this thing for so long and managed to hold together several groups of goblins to do so, which is no small feat.
I pace the huge headquarters tent some more.
The messenger comes back a little while later but this time with a black eye. “Shekh-khur wishes to cooperate! He’s already sent the concubine to your tent in a wheelbarrow!” the messenger stated.
I pause while I think about it.
That means she’s probably thickly coated in heavy birthing slime and probably pregnant with many pups at once in a drug induced state. I had preferred something virgin but anything that falls into goblin hands will never be a virgin longer than about ten minutes, so that’s not even being realistic. Well, I suppose having a full litter of pups ready to spawn in the concubine is also a gift but that will only be the case if that filth doesn’t manage to tell any of them he’s really their father.
I hope she’s fatter than my other concubines. The pups are always healthier, the fatter the human girl so that’s the way we like them. We try to keep them eating six times a day with big meals to keep the pup factories at maximum production.
Oops…I almost forgot.
That could be his plan too. It’s another goblin trick. Take over another’s breeding pit, or slip in sleeper genes in there. Then reveal the truth to the pups when they get older and when the other guy doesn’t know to watch for a dagger in the back. Under the right wicked lies and clever tongue someone’s own pups can be turned against them.
That just changed everything. That guy isn’t showing himself to be generous at all. He’s showing how treacherous he can be. I’ll have to deal with him today actually.
“It’s one of his best producing concubines,” the little messenger’s eyes shone with awe. He rubs his paws together with excitement.
Yeah, you just revealed your treachery. No goblin is going to give up his best producing concubine unless it’s part of his plot to get her back later through some other means huh?
“OK, let’s do this,” I said patiently.
Just a little more…
“Sir, your orders? I’ll carry them to Shekh-khur, this note has the names and unit descriptions of his lieutenants for you to manipulate. You can send the orders through me back to Shekh-khur and he’ll move the map for you,” the little cunning messenger said.
…a little more…
…his guard is almost completely down…
I can feel myself ready to giggle from what’s about to happen. I love this part…
The little conniving upstart thinks he’s tricked me.
He hands me a bloody ragged human skin that’s been converted to prime grade military paper. It’s similar to how humans used to write sacred writing on lambskin to make it last longer. Anything about the war gods or war stuff we use our best human skin paper.
We don’t really allow a precious resource like that to be used for other things though.
…so naïve this guy…
“I see. This will do. Wonderful and good job by the way,” I said as I regard it carefully. I nod a few times to show feigned agreement. At least his unit notes aren’t totally worthless.
My shamans cringed as I smiled broadly. They know I don’t smile ever purposefully. I can also see their knees quivering as they’ve predicted what’s going to happen.
The messenger goblin is put at complete ease now. It’s the optimum chance right here and now. I understand how this works.
Shekh-khur was using this cunning little servant that looks weak to get me to help him save his ass but he wasn’t going to give me full control anyway. He was going steal my plans and ideas for himself while withholding all credit. My rage is almost breaking over my like a tsunami and I’ve barely contained it.
The messenger’s head turned just for a brief second to admire one of my human skull candles and it was exactly the window I was looking for. He was about to ask about it when my knife slipped out. The small messenger’s body gasped in astonishment as my long hooked dagger was plunged through his heart several times. He never even saw I’d drawn the knife hanging on the back of my hip until it was too late.
My shamans had guessed correctly what I was going to do when they saw my smile earlier.
This is why tents over open ground are better than carpets. Carpets are hard to keep clean.
“Ahh that felt good,” I managed to croak. There’s also something in goblin genes that makes us feel safer when we have a good dose of the smell of blood early in the day. The shamans teach us that are proof of our lineage to some demon prince in hell that I’ve forgotten the name of right now.
I stopped to take a sip of blood wine. This batch is pretty good and isn’t as bad as that last shipment that tasted like elf piss. Of course I’m not cruel. I gave an even smaller sip to each of my two shaman slaves for a reward. They stare at me in awe. They aren’t used to me being generous but there is time for that.
“Do we still have that assassination unit on standby?” I asked my two shamans. It takes them a second to stop staring at the little messenger’s body.
I snap my fingers again to get the lowly curs to respond quicker. “Come on we don’t have all day!” I said.
“Ahh right boss. Sorry, we’re just amazed at your awesome skillz as always!” the wall-eyed shaman said.
Of course it should be here still. I’d saved it for something like this, knowing one of the other fools would screw up and I’d have to compensate for it to avoid having the Old One take my head too.
“Yes, sir,” the first shaman said.
“Good, go have that particular unit visit Shekh-khur with an offering of wine to celebrate an early victory. His taste testers will test it so don’t use the wrong stuff. Make sure they get in there before he realizes his little messenger crony ‘fell down the stairs’. As soon as they have the first sip and his guard is down, then gut the little trash on the spot. Make his assistants and personal guards swear fealty to me on the spot,” I commanded.
The two shamans are whispering in tongues of goblin magic already to contact the necessary units on standby already with my instructions.
I sometimes wish I had magic too but it turns out OK in the long run. I’ve been able to study war and assassination to a degree that no shaman could ever achieve; except for maybe the Old One could probably rival me still.
This will work. I’ve done it before. Goblins can’t resist an offering of prestige either, such as wine especially if it comes from a rival admitting strength. It’s enough to make one drunk in ego alone and this isn’t the first time I’ve pulled this off in similar fashion though I made sure the details weren’t leaked. It appeals to their pride as a warlord. Naturally he’d have a little slave crony like his messenger taste test the wine for poison but not suspect the one delivering the message was an combat specialized set of two assassins working together.
Nobody out warlords me…well, except for the Old One. For being so ancient, he’s still scary. He even lives in a human fortress if you can believe that. Imagine the odds of being able to achieve that!
An half hour later one of my shamans confirms Shekh-khur’s death. They both clap their little hands together for me as a showing of support that makes me blush.
Nice I’ll reward that assassination unit nicely.
“Ahh you guys are too nice,” I said in return for their compliments.
Of course my shamans are pale from worry they’re next naturally despite showing a lot of ‘support’ clapping. Goblins don’t pat each other on the back, because the tendency to stab each other there instead is too strong. Instead we do little victory clapping for each other.
“Don’t worry. Shekh-khur was necessary to eliminate. He hadn’t achieved any territory gains. We would have lost if he’d stayed in power. It will still be hard to turn around his idiotcraft and require my full attention for a couple hours and your assistance. You both have pups on the front lines don’t you?” I asked them.
Immediately both of them realized what I’d meant.
“Eh? The boss knows that? I’m surprised!” one said.
“I thought we’d gone unnoticed,” the other shed a tear that is probably faked all the way to the bones.
“Well of course I notice my own troops. You guys are practically family,” I said trying to not sound too arrogant.
Well…not really, but letting them hear that makes their life better even if it’s a lie right?
“Sir! Thank you! Thank you so much! Our pups have a chance to live now because of you!” one drips with adoration. The other said something similar right after.
“Good, good, now let’s get to work. We’ll have to work quickly to compensate for Shekh-khur’s failures. Also I heard a rumor that the orcs want this city too so we need to secure it fast before they decide they want in too,” I said.
The other two looked worried when I said that. It wasn’t common knowledge but it was all true. My spy networks had uncovered it recently.
“No way, is that true?” the one asked.
“Of course it is,” I said, which wasn’t a lie. The best way to crush the dwarves’ hope is with the truth and that is that they haven’t paid enough attention to both the goblin and orc forces massing in this region lately.
“Oh and make sure there are no loose ends at Shekh-khur’s tent. Bring me his gold chest with absolutely nothing missing and nothing opened since that will cause temptation. I’ll also give a few prize pieces to you guys and the assassination unit people, but only if they don’t try to steal anything first,” I said.
“Ahh thanks boss, you are so generous!” the one shaman said.
“I know!” I said sweetly.
“Hey number two…” I added as an afterthought.
“I will know if they take anything first. I’ve been to Shekh-khur’s headquarters tent many times,” I said.
Both of them gulped in fear.
Yeah, you little bitches were going to steal from me weren’t you, I thought. Those two are so predictable it’s funny. But predictable is good in minions, so I won’t execute them this time.
While I’m pacing the room the time goes by quickly.
“Boss! Alert! I’ve confirmed a strange unit leaving the dwarven main road. It seems to be someone that knows the dwarven war hero personally,” one of the shamans worriedly. He’s hopping up and down excitedly with the other shaman brother with him. They are both huffing full of worry.
“What? What is it?”I said.
“This unit looks somehow …I don’t know. Something is weird about it. It doesn’t show anything special and is lower in numbers than a normal dwarven platoon but it’s like they aren’t afraid of anything,” the one shaman brother said.
I think the goblin guardian spirit they worshipped together, both he and the other shaman, was the brothers of murder or something like that.
Ahh whatever…I don’t care about that goblin religion nonsense. It’s always some bullshit about increasing the breeders and increasing the blood sacrifices which is why I avoid attending their meetings even though they are supposedly mandatory.
But I do like jihads. That’s one thing I give the shamans credit for. They are good at putting together jihads in a way that normal military officers and warlords can’t quite manage with the same flavor and fanaticism.
“Pahh, there’s always some dwarven war hero or other. They can be poisoned or assassinated just like everyone else,” I shot back.
“They appear to be heading to the street called 1st West,” the other shaman concludes. He’s useful, and can actually read dwarven maps, which is a secret protected in his line. They all teach each other not just shaman runes in his blood but also dwarven writing to help work in spying and subjugation.
“So they didn’t go east?” I asked again.
“Nope, definitely towards 1st West,” the one shaman said.
“Sir, your orders?” the other asked.
“OK, I want you to concentrate Shekh-khur’s snipers on 1st West. That fool couldn’t assault a city to save his own ass. Pack the little guys on the rooftops as best you can under places they can use for cover while up there, but try not to have them right in the open where they can get shot down so easily. While that’s happening I want all the heavy ground troops concentrated with a 3:2 ratio in favor of taking first 3rd West, and also 2nd West,” I said.
“Eh? Sir? I don’t understand. Why not just put everything on 1st West to check the resistance?” the blockhead shaman asked.
I scowled at him, resisting the chance to lose my patience. “You have to stay moving. If you stop while the enemy is still moving you slow down. If the enemy moves, you counter him personally but you also have to take ground behind his back fool. You have to also grow faster than he is, and not just beat him in murder! While this guy is taking 1st West, I’ll have taken 5th West, 3rd West, and 2nd West both to prepare for when he moves on to try to get those streets next too. You don’t think he’ll stop at 1st West do you? If he is stopped at 1st West then he dies. But if he lives I’ll have a backup plan for taking what’s rightfully ours and I won’t be backed into a corner like Shekh-khur was!”
“Also this way keeps the dwarves divided and we outnumber their regular soldiers and that’s the primary concern. Make note of that, keep an eye on the regulars. Their shopkeepers, tradesmen, and civilians won’t be as well armed but the normal conscripted regulars are where we have to be wary,” I said.
“Oh that’s brilliant sir! I wish I’d thought of that,” the one blood shaman said.
The other one murmurs his agreement. They are both suddenly yipping with excitement as their hands clasp together. I can hear them whispering while they use their magic and carry my orders out quickly.
But then his smile twists into a frown. “Umm but sir, I just thought of something. The snipers won’t have ground cover. They will be defenseless on 1st West,” he objected.
“Ahh, that’s true! Sir! What do we do?” the other echoed after him.
“Fool, they won’t be on the ground. They’ll mostly be on the rooftops! That’s why we’re doing it this way. It forces them to range war us when they are already spread too thin. Dwarves are short. Plus this allows me more creative troop movement options for my second and third stage plans on 2nd West, 5th West, and 3rd West,” I barked.
Both of them are drooling in anticipation of my planned murder events. They want to be in on it, now that they can see how good my schemes are.
I’m still a bit jealous that those shamans get to watch it happen while I have to use my cunning to get reports instead.
And the good news is that I only have to work Shekh-khur’s pieces now because I’ve already captured the whole eastern side of the city. It’s consolidated and safely being fortified street by street by pieces fo dwarven furniture and housing while I am now working on taking the west side. If my plan works out it will leave much of the dwarves trapped in the central and southern parts of the city, while I’m coming in from behind them on the west, which they won’t notice from trying to tear apart my fortified eastern front.
Murdering Shekh-khur was too easy.
It’s working in my favor all too well also.
Right now I’ve got 3 ogres on my eastern front too, which is way more than the other sub-commanders. They only have one or two. Shekh-khur had one, but the guy in the central area had two but I heard a rumor one of them was already slain by the dwarven war hero about two hours ago and early in the fighting.
It’s frustrating working with such fools of limited vision and scope. They spend all their time breeding with human concubines instead of trying to advance their lives and territory.
Fifteen minutes another report comes in.
“Sir, we’ve confirmed 3rd West is falling to our might faster than expected. 2nd West is also following,” one of the shaman’s confirms.
“Good. See my plans always work,” I grunted.
“But what about the 5th West?” I asked suddenly.
“Well it’s happening but slower than expected,” they said sheepishly.
“OK then, put our reserve units on helping capture 5th West,” I said.
“If we do that we won’t have an escape guard,” one of them warned.
“If we disappoint the Old One It’s the same fate as that,” I reminded him.
“Sir, aren’t you going to deploy the ogre?” the one asked. He’s referring to Shekh-khur’s ogre which is now in my command.
“We wait on that. It’s important to use your champion pieces carefully since they take a long time to groom properly. That’s a surprise set for a special occasion. But out of 2nd west, 3rd west, and 5th West which is more likely to be important to the dwarves for channeling troop movements?” I asked them carefully as we studied the map together.
We’d already talked about this for days. But we hadn’t gotten a conclusive answer yet on it because this area wasn’t assigned to us, and because this area it looks like several areas are very similar.
“Sir, I was about to comment about that. It does seem that there’s a hidden aqueduct behind 5th west. It’s disguised to look like part of the wall infrastructure,” one of them reports.
“The dwarves have kept 3rd west mostly clear too. I think their reasoning was that nothing would get that far and that they’d use it to send reinforcements up it and then transfer them back to the main central road. So both 3rd West and 5th west will be the most important as you’ve suspected,” the one shaman said as he traced a line between them.
“Damn. So that set of both streets is more valuable than I’d originally thought,” I said.
“And the one road with the highest likelihood of being used to transfer between 3rd West and the central main road is that spot where the unknown enemy unit is trying to take 1st West,” the other shaman confirmed.
Pig fuckers all of them.
I hate dwarves.
I hate them. I hate them. I hate them. I hate them.
AHh, I got carried away again. I accidentally was saying that instead of thinking it and my shamans were afraid I was going to start hitting them again.
A half hour later…
“Sir, we have 3rd West! You did it! We’ll soon have most of 2nd West!” the other reported while purring in some form of mental instability.
“5th West is starting to cave in now that our reserves are out,” came the follow up reply.
Good…this is happening according to my plan.
I just hope there won’t be any surprises in the mix.
“How much is left between the top part of the city and that line where the unknown enemy unit is?” I asked.
“About 80%. It won’t be long now. But beyond that street where that small unknown enemy unit is we don’t have much ground,” he confirmed.
“Good, have them set up ambushing spots all along 3rd West, and 5th West. And we’ll make up for ground later. Right now we need to keep our game pieces moving and in good condition while they make the dwarves afraid,” I ordered.
“But we already hold that street,” he replied.
“My friends, you don’t know dwarves. They will try to take it back. They have this obsession with property and gold see. If they see something has something of theirs they won’t rest until they bleed all over the ground trying to get it back like a raccoon with its hand stuck in a trap,” I said.
“Sir they have 1st West. Our snipers were defeated according to our reports,” one of the shamans said. I try to get them to pull the remnants that are left of my troops from 1st West and divide them in two to send down to reinforce both 2nd West and 3rd West.. We should have enough reserves already on the 5th street that I’m not worried. I’d picked out a healthy reserve count just for this sort of thing.
That part was annoying but excepted for the enemy to take 1st West. I might be able to steal it back while he’s gone onto 2nd West and 3rd West though.
That unknown enemy unit looks cancerous. My fingernails are bleeding with worry. I can’t let them stop my plans. Something doesn’t feel right about it.
Within another half hour my words are confirmed.
“Sir, we have reinforced positions on 2nd west, and 3rd west each. Our snipers are again on the rooftops as directed,” the shaman reports.
“5th West is going down without much fight,” came a report five minutes later.
“OK, what about the reinforcements from the top that I was promised,” I said.
“Sir, something strange is going on. The reinforcements from the Old One haven’t come yet,” he said.
Fuck. That did it. My blood pressure is going up again. It’s not like the Old One to fail a mission. It’s never been heard of. Something else must have happened, I concluded.
“What? That’s unacceptable!” I shrieked.
How the hell am I supposed to hold a city with no reinforcements? They knew I’d have to burn through some good units to capture a good sized dwarven city like this one. I had counted on those reinforcements being here at a set time.
Somehow I ended up grinding my teeth again. It’s a bad habit of mine.
“The Old One’s reinforcements were ambushed by two dwarven mages outside of town. They are encountering heavy fire and just trying to survive the mage artillery spree,” the one said again.
“So that’s why they are late. It’s not like the Old One to fail like this. But if this comes apart we blame him you understand? It was his job to keep me supplied! You two may have to vouch for me!” I said to both of them.
They agree readily. They know I’ll hold their pups hostage on a critical negotiation like that but I won’t hurt them unless I have to.
It’s the goblin way.
I continued to bite my fingernails. We have to somehow prevent that unknown enemy unit from taking back 2nd West, and 3rd West without the extra help I was promised. There were too many of the goblin reserves son 5th West for him to take that but I can’t pull troops from that street to cover the other two since that will be my gate for the reinforcements later when they finally come. And I suspect by now too that the dwarven civilians are joining up to try to help out their normal garrison structures which gives me ulcers of annoyance.
Fuck them all!
Oops…I got carried away again.
The younglings’ nurse said I was his most spirited pups when I was born and that’s why I throw cursing fits before I realize it. I’d been ranting and raging for a good ten minutes before the two shamans calmed me down.
“Sir, anything else we can try?” one of the shamans asked desperately.
“Keep trying to sniper swarm them from the rooftops. And have them alternate positions anytime the dwarves look like they have a good spot to shoot back from. Dwarves can’t climb well since they are short like us. It’s a good strategy. But keep them moving around. You have to outflank the dwarves too, and try different pincer strikes from the sides, behind, and anything you can throw at them,” I raged aloud.
“Boss, you make war look pretty,” one of the shamans said in awe.
Dude, that guy is so creepy….he’s not …like that is he?
An hour later…
The two shamans are deathly silent and have paled visibly.
“What? What’s wrong?” I asked them.
“That enemy unit. It’s freaking monstrously strong,” one of them said.
“So they bleed like everyone else. Just make them bleed more. They won’t be laughing when we kill them all. If it bleeds it can die, you remember I taught you that,” I cackled.
“You don’t understand sir. That’s the thing; we can’t kill any of them. I think we wounded one of them this entire time. Their defense is obscenely impenetrable,” the other said.
“That’s not possible….” Suddenly my breath caught in my throat.
“Ahh…is that a mage led unit?!” I exclaimed.
Both shamans are afraid I’ll beat them to death. I can see it on their faces. Their fear revealed their error. Both of them squawked in fear as they struggled to get away from my whip.
“This whole fucking time you didn’t check to see if that unit was led by a mage?!” I exclaimed.
“But we did! We did check for latent magic energy flow! Nothing came through!”
“I swear we did boss!” the other said.
“The hell you did! You let an enemy mage fool us all the way to near defeat! If the enemy has a good mage I have to freaking know about it early!” I screamed. I find myself raging back and forth. I can’t kill my servants without some replacements nearby.
But if I don’t murder something, my blood pressure won’t go down.
“I don’t understand why we didn’t detect him! We checked for it, I swear!” the one shaman said right before I clobbered him so badly with a club that part of his left eye socket has collapsed where a chunk of bone was caved in. He collapsed to fall to the floor.
The other is kneeling before me pleading for his life. This time his tears are real I can see. They made the most unforgiveable act; the rule to never break.
How did the enemy slip a mage in there unnoticed? Did my shamans screw up or was the enemy just doing something tricky?
Nah, it must be my shamans that screwed up. It’s already harder for goblins to compete with humans and other races with magic. That’s why we try to identify them early on for assassination and other murder plots.
“I’ll have to get another shaman. Even if I spare that one, he’ll likely have his mind addled,” I said more to myself than the other shamn that’s still begging profusely.
I’m going to have to beat them until their eyes won’t focus anymore. This won’t do at all. I’ll have to have a clever story with evidences for the Old One that this isn’t my fault if I’m to still save my neck. I briefly considered trying to assassinate the Old One before he could take me out but he’s too clever for that. He expects that every time and for any reason at any given minute of the day.
Hell, he’s survived more assassination attempts than some tribes have total on the sum of all their members…
But why did those two screw up so badly? I’d told them time and time again to always check for mages in enemy troop movements. Somehow they forgot again? Or were they sloppy? This was by the book, and by strategies we’d gone over every day for the last couple years while the others were digging the tunnels to get into this place.
I bet there wasn’t a single day they didn’t hear me scream at them to check for enemy mages.
And it’s almost too late to turn this around.
The enemy now has complete control of 2nd West, and is heading to 3rd West even while I punish both my fucking stupid ass mongrel shamans that don’t listen to a thing I’ve taught them!
Who the fuck doesn’t check for enemy mages when they have the power to do so!
Somehow I realized how tired I was after wearing myself out from another screaming fit.
Another messenger came in two minutes later, announcing the death of Shekh-khur’s ogre, and it seems the sub-commander in charge of the Central section was also captured and burned to death by the dwarves in their central plaza as a sign of victory.
So I’m the only one left?
Well technically I still hold the eastern section of the city. And I still have my 3 ogres, and a whole slew of blood shamans.
It was kind of a handicapped position to start from actually with everything like this trying to salvage the mess those other two had already bungled.