The General of Izril (The Wandering Inn, #6)

by Pirateaba

“What’s that?” He pointed. The Human’s head instinctively turned. Too late, it snapped back. This time his shield was too low. Pyrite buried the axe in the Human’s shoulder, grabbed the screaming Human’s mace, and buried it in his head. He stepped back, breathing hard as the line of warriors broke without the adventurer to hold it. “Idiot.”

“We are not monsters yet; But we do not forget; We are lost, outcasts all. I caught him too late. His sigh— A shudder. Last goodbye. Time passes, cities rise and nations fall; And yet they will always hate us all. Goblins. Why do they hate us so? Why does the wind blow? I suppose I will never know.”

The next time the [Clown] appears, the Fearless retreat. They do not feel fear. But that means they do not understand it either. All they feel is confusion. Uncertainty. They break and run against an enemy they cannot kill. And the [Clown] laughs. He turns.

Rabbiteater. Bugear. Numbtongue. Shorthilt. Badarrow. Headscratcher.

“I am Bird. Bird I am. I hunt birds with my bow. This is my song. La. Lah, la…birds.”

This is a story of a band of Goblins. A shattered, lost collection of souls. Dreamers, warriors who had tasted something else. This is a story about heroes.

And the young woman looked at them, at the head in Headscratcher’s arms, and did something they had never seen a Human do before. She bowed.

The Wandering Inn. It had one rule. No killing Goblins. Erin smiled to herself. Yes. This time she’d do it right. She’d be better. And show them—show everyone—there were some Goblins who weren’t evil.

I am working on a new undead creation. My [Fencer] class doesn’t exist; I never wanted to level, so I never did. Sometimes I wake up at night and miss what could have been between us. I apprenticed myself to an ancient monster. For knowledge and power. I know Erin and Ryoka are from a different world. And I know there are more like them. I ate your extra helping of lasagna yesterday and let you think it was Ksmvr. I reached Level 30 yesterday. I’m sorry.

“Calruz is alive.”

Would Pisces tell Ceria? Olesm bet he would. Pisces was a good person, for all he acted like he wasn’t. And he liked Ceria. They had been a couple.

“I believe parts of them are still stuck to the undercarriage, sir. May I take this moment to inform you of our wine selection?”

Healing. It was a long process. But if Erin was good at one thing, it was bridging gaps. Between people, in hearts…Yellow Splatters walked slowly back with Purple Smile and thought about all the mistakes he’d made.

Each time one of them laughed, Mrsha hated all of the Goblins and their entire species. When they smiled, she wished their happiness would go away. It was easy to hate them, then. It was harder, much harder, to hate them when they cried. When they shed a tear for a sad song that made Mrsha curl up inside, or when they hugged each other and looked around as if they expected there to be others with them. Then it was hard.

“So what do you want? Hey, didn’t I throw a pan at your head once?”

“I, Lyonette du Marquin, do solemnly grant you, Krshia Silverfang, and whatever business you pursue, my royal favor, now and unto perpetuity. You who have forgiven us when we did not deserve it. You, whose kin we called friend, however briefly. You, who have lost much—we offer our small blessing. Let the world know you are favored and let that favor grant you all the riches you wish for.”

“Is your inn always like this, Human?” Her laughter was his only reply.

“That’s right. Welcome to the Wandering Inn! You get a drink on the house for reading the sign—one free drink.”

“Oh no. Miss Erin is very good at killing things. And she employs one of my kind. His name is Bird and he lives on the roof. By the way, I have never met a Dwarf. Are you happy, being a Dwarf? Is there a special racial advantage to being a Dwarf or are you relatively useless like Humans?”

Suddenly, Ilvriss was conscious of how drunk he was, of how dirty his clothes were—clothes, not armor. He’d stopped putting it on. While Periss was in her armor, in the prime of her life, ready for action. He felt ashamed and looked away. “Ancestors, look at me. Look at how I’ve fallen apart. No wonder you look at me like that. I am worthless.”

“I swear I will. I will protect our home. I will find the Necromancer and make him pay. And if the Goblin Lord threatens, I will protect our people. I won’t slip back again, Periss. I swear it.”

This is Human land, yes. But this is my continent. This is our home. And I will defend it to my death.”

“This is your home! This city may not be yours, but every city here was built by Humans. You claimed these lands. You spilled blood for them and held them against Drakes, Goblins, the Antinium, and every other threat that sought to claim them for thousands of years. Now the Goblin Lord marches north, his armies growing with every victory. Will you give him another city, the lives of your people? The Humans I know would not do that! The Humans I know would drive his army into the sea and fight till their dying breaths before they gave ground to their enemy!”

I’m no politician; I’m a soldier like you all. And I see the enemy. Now, I don’t know what you think of me, but there’s no Tyrion Veltras here. No other [Lord] or [General]. Just me. And I won’t retreat until the Goblin Lord’s army is shattered and his undead are buried in the ground again! I will fight! But I cannot do it alone! Will you do the same?”

“I am [Lieutenant] Gershal of Vaunt! I will fight with you, General Shivertail! We do not run from Goblins! I will protect Invrisil with my men if you will lead us!” His voice rang out in the silence, proud and alone. It was what Zel had been waiting

“Shivertail! Shivertail!” “Tidebreaker!” And last, but most importantly, a word. Not his name, not a word that represented Zel or Magnolia. The word Zel had been waiting for. “Izril!” “Izril! The Dragonlands! The unconquered!” “Izril!”

“Well if anyone could do it, it would be Erin.”

In Terandria, the Necromancer had appeared once again. This elusive specter of death, the infamous outcast of Wistram, the fallen Archmage, had plagued the continent for over a century, leading armies of death against the living. He would destroy and despoil kingdoms, his undead armies beaten back only after much effort and then disappear before he could be slain, returning after years or sometimes decades. Each time stronger.

“Wow. I thought this was supposed to be a happy story. Hey Klbkch, didn’t you say you were reading an appropriate bedtime story?” Everyone looked up. The Antinium sitting in the barracks of the Painted Soldiers all stared at Erin as she crunched down on some popcorn. Klbkch, who had been chosen to read the book out loud, clicked his mandibles together gently. “I was under the impression that this ‘bedtime story time’ event was to be undertaken without commentary, Erin.”

“Xrn and I were desperate, waiting for reinforcements that were too far away, knowing the Queen’s chamber was being flooded, that we had less than an hour before her demise at best. At that moment, I—” “Popcorn! Get your popcorn here!” A low voice interrupted Klbkch. Every head turned as Erin marched down the rows of Soldiers, passing out large bowls of popcorn.

And there began the slaughter known to the world as the Sacrifice of Roses.

Magnolia Reinhart, one of the leading figures of the First Antinium War, led a counterattack from her estate on the Goblin King’s forces. Despite having committed virtually all of her family’s soldiers to the defense of First Landing, she appeared two weeks after the Sacrifice of Roses with another army a hundred thousand strong.

‘King of Gnolls’. The Necromancer killed the Gnoll Chieftain Kerash and was thus dubbed Az’kerash, or ‘Slayer of Kerash’ by the Gnolls.

When questioned about his fearful retreat from any actual conflict with the Goblin King, the much-vaunted [Strategist] of Baleros had only this to say: “I’m not an idiot.”

Charlotte’s Web, a story which would cause much emotional distress on the part of every Soldier who had killed Shield Spiders.

“Sacra. Desperate times call for running people over. With an enchanted carriage.”

“Fast-fast magic pink death thing coming this way!”

“[Polite Deflection]. Shoo.”

And the Goblin Lord turned. There was only a hundred feet separating the two as Zel Shivertail and the Goblin Lord locked eyes. The Goblin motioned and a wall of Goblins surged forwards. Zel Shivertail roared and charged.

“You think you understand strength! I am the shield of the Drakes! I am a [General]! And a general does not fall!”

“Hah. Hahaha. Coward.” Zel Shivertail lay on the ground, laughing. He was still alive. Somehow. The Goblin Lord could see into his head, but the Drake still clung to life. His eyes turned to the Goblin Lord. “I’m sorry.”

Zel Shivertail was dead. The Tidebreaker had fallen.