Barbarian Legends - Goblinslayer 03

There wasn't much he could do, but he refused to do nothing. He decided to look into it himself. And if it was a trap, he would take as much of those filthy goblins with him as he possibly could. The evening would turn out to be eventful yet.

**********

"You delivered the note as instructed?" shaman Utkut asked.

"Yes, most ingenuous of masters," Tix said.

"Good. You are dismissed. But be ready for further instructions. If anyone asks you what you were doing on the surface, tell them you were spying on the barbarian in preparation for killing him. In a way, it will be the truth."

"Yes, cleverest of shamans."

Utkut rubbed his hands together with glee. He was confident that the foolish barbarian would fall right into his cunningly woven trap. His carefully crafted message, artfully composed to deceive, ensured this outcome. Now, all he had to do was wait and make sure that, regardless of the situation, Wrench's warriors would not succeed in their mission.

And he knew just the way to do that.

**********

Wrench Claw-Arm surveyed his corps of engineers with pride. He watched a team of firethrowers check their dangerous weapons and gas cannisters, showing all the care of well-trained Clan Arx engineers. Bands of sweating elven slaves rested for a moment, their breath coming in gasps, their tongues lolling out after long exertion. They had laboured long and hard to prepare for this night's work. They had spent many hours lugging all the equipment to this place. And now all was ready to breach the surface and swarm out.

Wrench inspected their work with a well-trained professional eye. After tonight, he would surpass his invention of the communications device, and advance the goblin cause tremendously. After tonight, he would possess all the proudest secrets of the race of humans. And then he would improve them in a thousand ways.

Wrench knew that he had picked his time well. Today was the Feast of Yuna. The human guards were but a skeleton watch compared to their usual numbers, and doubtless were all drunk. Even now, his hired Clan Dagger assassins were moving above, picking off the few sentries which remained on duty. Soon it would be time to go forward with the plan.

Wrench's watch chimed twenty-six times. He tugged its chain and pulled the ornate brass device out of his pocket. He held it to his ear, and was rewarded by the sound of loud ticking from the lovingly crafted mechanisms within. It was exactly twenty-six o' clock, to the hour, to the minute. He took the gas cannister and slotted it in the opening of his mechanical arm, providing his built-in flamethrower with fuel. Wrench turned and gave the sign for the operation to begin.

**********

Girn climbed over the wall and landed in the grass. He looked at the front of the new Office of Ingenuity. It was an impressive building, yet more like a fortress than a place for inventions. The tall, broad towers at each corner would have been more at home on a castle than on a place of study. All the windows at ground level were barred. There was only one way in, through a massive archway, large enough for a horse-drawn carriage.

Girn had learned from Hans that only authorised members of the Guild of Mechanics, their apprentices and members of the King's military were allowed into this highly secured place, on pain of death or at least a long stay in the dungeons. Girn glanced over at the sentry stations beside the locked iron gates and was disappointed. One of the sentries was so drunk that he was simply lying asleep beside his post. Then Girn saw that there was something odd in the man's posture and he stepped over cautiously to have a look. As he did so, he saw more recumbent figures. Was it possible that all of the sentries were drunk and asleep? He crept up for a closer look, then swung his greataxe from his back.

The sentries were not drunk. They were dead. Each lay in a pool of blood. One of them still had a knife sticking from his back. Girn bent and examined it, immediately recognising the weapon. He had seen many such blades when goblin assassins flooded his room at the Full Tankard.

The mysterious note had proven truthful this far. There were clearly goblins about. He had to take a look inside.

**********

Wrench stalked the corridors of the Office, surrounded by his bodyguards. In a way this was a comforting place for him. He was surrounded by familiar things: forges and bolts and chains and braces, and all the tools familiar to engineers the world over, whatever their race. The smell of charcoal and metal wafted through the place on the night breeze. Goblins seethed through the corridors like an invading army, ransacking the place as they went. He hoped that his assistant, Knob, had managed to get into position in the central armouries, otherwise all the most valuable of loot would have already vanished.

To his right, he could see a rack of long barrels, supposedly these so-called 'guns' were an improvement on crossbows, shooting metal balls instead of bolts. Wrench inspected the novel design and pulled one down. It had a half-complete look. Nothing to get excited about, Wrench thought, simply a prototype. His mind was already dissecting the design and improving it. Without access to rare metals, the humans would never be able to match the superior design Wrench was constructing in his mind. He hoped that the other stuff here was more worthy of his consideration, or it was going to be a wasted night.

"Most perspicuous of lords, this way," he heard Knob call.

Wrench strode down the long hall and found himself in another machine shop. This was more like it, he thought, when he saw the massive mechanical construction. Yes, indeed, this was worth having.

"Quick! Take it!" he instructed Knob. His lackey muttered a few commands and a party of elven slaves rushed forward. There was a lot of activity, installing pulleys to lift the construction onto a platform on wheels to roll away.

Wrench pushed on deeper into the halls, wondering what new toys he would find in this strange and exciting place. What was that unsettling noise he suddenly heard?

**********

"I've dreamed about this for so long," Jensen said.

"What about 'this' exactly?" Edith inquired, her voice husky and filled with mischief. She was moving her body elegantly and provocatively. "About my lips, perhaps? Or maybe my curvy hips?" She traced her hands along her waist and up across her torso, squeezing her breasts through her uniform vest. "Or have you been dreaming about my tits?"

"All that," Jensen panted, kneading his cock through his trousers. "And so much more."

"Ooh, please tell me. Or better yet, show me."

Jensen unbuttoned his trousers and pulled them down, revealing his erect cock. Edith bit her lip and smirked. Her reaction turned Jensen on even more. He walked to her and along the way got rid of his shirt. He turned Edith around and embraced her from behind, squeezing her tits like she had done before and shoving his cock through the gap between her legs. He moved his hips and rubbed his shaft along the area of her pants that covered her pussy. Suddenly, he grabbed the centre of her buttoned vest and pulled hard. Fabric ripped and buttons popped off. Edith was wearing nothing underneath and Jensen seized her large tits again, twisting her nipples between thumb and forefinger.

"I've dreamed about playing with your massive breasts," he whispered into her ear.

"Yessss," she panted.

Jensen reached down one hand and pulled her trousers to her thighs, cupping one ass cheek in his palm. "And with your firm ass."

"Hmmmm, what more?"

His fingers travelled down her crack and were met with moistness. "Most of all, your wet pussy." He plunged a finger into her folds and she gasped excitedly.

Suddenly everything happened so fast. Jensen pulled her trousers down to her knees and thrust her upper body down onto the desk. Edith's tits were pushed flat and bulged out sideways. With a hand on each ass cheek, Jensen pulled them open and revealed her blossoming flower and crinkled asshole. A half-step closer and his tip entered her wet pussy.

"Aah... That feels amazing," Edith breathed, her eyes already rolling back.

Jensen bucked his hips and began fucking Edith from behind. He slapped her ass every time he pulled back, followed by ramming his cock back inside Edith. They grunted in unison.

The doors of the office violently flung open, the hinges creaking under the force. Jensen and Edith startled and gazed at the figure filling the doorframe.

"Those inept Clan Dagger fools," the newcomer muttered. "They assured me no one remained."

"Who are you?" Jensen asked, still embedded in Edith.

"Your doom," the figure shrieked and lifted his abnormally large arm.

Flames roared towards Jensen and Edith. The fire consumed them and with screams of excruciating pain, they were turned to ash and soot.

**********

Girn fumbled with the door handle. He had been half hoping to find it locked but it was already open, and he suspected he knew why. There was a very familiar smell in the air, a combined scent of dirt and filth and sewer reek. No doubt about it, the goblins were here.

There was no turning back now. He couldn't go and inform the city guards. They would arrest him for breaking into the most treasured of armouries. They wouldn't believe him if he warned them about goblins and certainly would laugh in his face if he tried to explain he had broken in to stop them from stealing precious secrets of war. He would simply end up in prison.

Maybe he shouldn't have come? Had he been carried away by the momentum of events? He was in a place where he had no business being, and most likely surrounded by vicious goblin warriors. By the time any help could get to him, he would in all probability be dead, and even in the unlikely event he survived until help came, his rescuers would most likely hang him as a spy. How had he gotten himself into this situation, Girn wondered?

It was clear to Girn. There was only one logical approach left. Kill all the goblins before they killed him and leave before the guards came. That was a simple way of thinking he could hold on to. Girn slowly and cautiously pushed the door open. Ahead of him a long corridor loomed. He wished that he had a lantern with him. Then again, it would only draw unwelcome attention.

Girn gripped his axe-handle tightly, raised the double-headed blade and stomped off down the corridor. Ahead Girn could see a huge open courtyard. In the centre of the courtyard was a massive gaping pit, from which emerged the familiar stench of the sewers. The courtyard was lit by eerie flickering blue lights. In their glow, Girn could see a horde of goblins scampering backwards and forwards between the pit and the building. Each had a chest or a piece of machinery over his shoulder. It looked like they were looting the whole building. Girn was sure there were simply too many of the goblins for him to overcome. But he was angered by what he saw, and his axe was thirsty for goblin blood.

**********

"Filthy humans rutting in my presence," Wrench muttered, spitting on the floor. His mouth tasted foul after seeing that.

"There is a problem, most decisive and responsible of leaders," Knob said quietly from behind him. Wrench turned and glared at his lieutenant petulantly.

"Problem? What problem could there be, Knob? Explain!"

"There's fighting in the courtyard."

"What?" Wrench exclaimed. The end of his mechanical arm was still glowing red from the heat and he thought for a second to incinerate Knob like Utkut had blasted that messenger into dust. But he needed to save the fuel for whatever this opposition in the courtyard might be.

Suddenly Wrench had a better idea and knew exactly what he wanted to do, and since he was a master engineer there was no one who could stop him. He was going to take the construction he saw earlier for a test drive.

**********

In the distance Girn heard a rumble like a dragon clearing its throat. All the goblins in the courtyard had either fled, or lay dead on the ground. He hurried up the stairs and emerged onto a gallery above a huge hall which seethed with goblins. In the middle of the hall stood a gleaming, metal construction. It resembled a bipedal monstrosity, made completely out of steel. Smoke billowed from chimneys on its back and even as he watched, Girn saw that the mechanical legs were starting to move.

It picked up speed fast and stamped on a small goblin who stood clutching something in front of it. The goblin fell and a glass sphere rolled from its hands. Girn recognised the sphere from the very first encounter in the sewers. The sphere fell and shattered into a million pieces. As it did so, a horrible cloud of yellow gas emerged. All of the goblins down below who were caught in the cloud clutched their throats and fell, coughing blood. They lay on the floor, feet kicking the ground. In a way they looked as if they were drowning.

Girn remembered that awful moment in the sewers when Sek had nearly died from the gas. He also remembered that Kiara had suggested the solution was a soaked handkerchief placed over your mouth. Girn noticed gratefully that the gas did not rise high. Indeed, it was already starting to disperse.

**********

The sensation of power was awesome. Wrench had never experienced anything like it. He felt like he could crush anything that got in his way, smash through any obstacle. With this one mech-armour, he could overcome any foe. Visions of huge armies, spearheaded by rows of mech-armours danced through his head. With such a force manned by fierce goblin engineers, Clan Arx could conquer the world. And, of course, he, Wrench Claw-Arm, would be suitably rewarded for his genius in coming up with the plan.

Wrench looked up through the slit to see where he was going. What was that foolish poison bomb thrower doing standing in front of him with a look of panic on his face, Wrench wondered? Then he realised and quickly held his breath. That traitor had most certainly dropped a poison bomb to kill him! His eyes watered from the gas which had seeped in through the viewing slit. He could hear gurgling and gasping coming from outside the armour. Wrench smiled inwardly. As a consequence of his own quick thinking, he had managed to save himself while the conspiring traitors were choking and dying.

Wrench peered out through the yellow murk with watering eyes, and tried to guide the mech-armour into the clear. Something bumped and squished under the massive feet and he thought he heard a howl of agony. He ignored it and concentrated on staying alive. That was the most important thing.

His lungs felt like they were bursting. His heart beat at three times its usual rate. He did not care. All that mattered now was that he did not breathe until he saw clear air, and that he kept himself alive, in spite of the treacherous attack of the foolish bomb thrower.

All around him he heard sounds of confusion, of goblins shouting orders, of barked commands, and weapons being brought to bear.

"We're under attack!" he heard the familiar voice of Knob shout. It wasn't until there was thumping on the side that he realised that the idiots thought that he was attacking them.

**********

Girn watched in mounting confusion at the scene of carnage. The gas had killed dozens of the goblins. The rest of them had turned on the monstrous mechanical construction. Several teams of goblins equipped with newly-acquired long guns had started taking pot-shots. Two weirdly equipped goblins were manhandling a huge and very unwieldy-looking weapon into a position where it could fire at the armoured assailant.

Was there still an engineer alive down there, and had he somehow managed to get the war-machine to work? Was he even now fighting for his life and in desperate need of help? Girn stepped onto the balustrade.

The goblins had manoeuvred their odd-looking weapon into position. One of them crouched down with a barrel braced on its back, the other wielding the connected trigger. Suddenly a jet of green goop spouted forth and sprayed towards the construction. It clung to the metallic side panels, sizzling intensely, the flare illuminating the whole chamber and making Girn stand out in stark relief on the balcony. He knew this because a whole group of goblins were suddenly pointing at him and shrieking.

He knew what was going to happen next.

**********

Wrench closed his eyes and hoped that he would still be able to see when he opened them. The heat of the burning acid was intense and it leaked through the viewing slit. Wrench screamed and soiled the seat below him.

"Stop! You fools!" he shrieked. "It's me! Wrench Claw-Arm, your leader!"

If anyone heard him over the roar of the steam engines, they gave no sign. All was confusion and madness. It was possible that his comrades had lost sight of him in the confusion and thought he was a human attacker. It was equally possible that some vilely ambitious underling, someone like Knob, knew full well that he was in here and was taking this opportunity to try and assassinate his superior.

In fact, the more Wrench thought of this second option, the more likely it seemed to him. It had been Knob who had called out to attack earlier. That filthy degenerate! And those acidthrower bearers, for example, were not stopping their assault, despite his express command.

They might claim they could not hear him over the roar of the steam engines but Wrench knew better. He could see it all so clearly now. It was all part of a devilish plot to remove him from his rightful office. He would not be in the least bit surprised if shaman Utkut was behind the whole thing.

Filled with righteous vindictive anger, Wrench bared his teeth in rage and steered the mech-armour directly at the acidthrowers. Too late, the treacherous vermin realised their peril and attempted to jump aside. Wrench was rewarded by the crunch of their bones under his steel feet. Then there was a hideous crump as the barrel of corrosive chemicals exploded.

**********

Goblins were flowing out onto the balcony on which he stood. There were dozens of them, far more than he could fight. He did not doubt that he could take out one or two dozen of them on the narrow walkway but while he was doing so others would come rushing up behind him and drive their nasty little blades into his back. Damn it! There was but one solution.

Girn took a large gulp of air and jumped down the balustrade. With a thunderous impact, he landed and swung wildly around himself, leaving a trail of dead and dying goblins in his wake.

Also, Girn could see the moving construction as it marched onward. It crashed through the workspace leaving an acid trail behind it, crushing everything that got in its way. Then it slowed down, coming almost to a stop, its front end facing in the direction of him. Girn stood his ground, confronting the massive machine. All around him, panicked goblins ran for cover.

**********

Wrench could not believe his eyes. Was that a barbarian standing in front of him brandishing a huge axe? Was it the barbarian shaman Utkut was concerned about? Where had he appeared from, and why was he standing unfazed in the mech-armour's way? Had he accidentally taken a whiff of the bomb thrower's gas? Was he hallucinating? The whole mech-armour was getting warm, and not just from the boiler. Wrench could smell the acid burning everywhere. And where had all his warrior engineers gone? Surely the barbarian and the gas could not have killed them all. Well, one thing was certain: no barbarian could survive a face-to-face encounter with this war-machine. Wrench upped the acceleration and raced directly ahead. That barbarian was going to be crushed to a bloody pulp beneath the feet of his mech-armour.