It’s been four nights since the goblins appeared on the plains. They were few at first, but their numbers grew in a steady stream from all sides. I dispatched my fastest rider and can only pray Tiw saw him safely past their lines. As it stands now, the horde surrounds us.
Curse me for a fool! I’ve sent too many good men away on one errand or another, each mission important, to be sure, but none as important as holding this fort. I should have pulled my knights in and called for reinforcements as soon as the travelers from the east brought word of aggressive goblin raids. As it stands, fewer than thirty souls are left to defend the walls against a legion beyond counting.
But how was I to know the goblins had these numbers? They must have bred for many winters in their caves and barrrows and ruins just for this new offensive on our countryside. It’s unprecedented, in these lands, as is their discipline. Enslaving ogres. Raising up so many shaman. Operating with relative patience and tactical skill. These are not goblin traits. Someone is organizing them.
From here, the bigger picture matters little. Knowing who is organizing the goblins won’t feed my men or convince them that hope is not lost. Morale has suffered since the Goblins topped our walls with a small sortie. The men know our wall will be of little use when the enemy comes in force, and they grow tense from rationed food and ale. Any provocation could set them off.
But hope does remain. A mighty warrior devoted to Tiw has joined our ranks. One such has he can not only fight, but rally others to mighty deeds.
And he isn’t the only outsider who would take up our cause. Somewhere to the East, the big young warrior from the Iron Guild and his Grey Legionnaire companion is leading a caravan full of stout men and dwarves who will gladly join their number to ours. The skald they count among them will make us immortal in song should we survive.
And, out in the badlands beyond the horde, there are two powerful wizards who will fight for us, one with fire, and one with ice. If Melasion returns with them, all may not be lost.
But how will they find their way past the enemy throngs and through our gates? I know not. But they must. All of them. Tiw let it be so.