Barbarian Legends - Goblinslayer 06

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

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The events of Barbarian Legends occur many years before the events of Barbarian Tales.

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CITY OF YELEDOR

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Seated on his imposing throne, Utkut brooded within a pentacle marked with the likeness of the Ever-Hungry, encircled by a double layer of potent protective symbols. He had summoned all the formidable defensive spells at his disposal to safeguard himself from the ominous forces threatening his fate. These runes offered protection against curses, diseases, misfortune, and a host of deadly spells, representing some of the most potent wards he had acquired in his extensive study of the dark arts. The fact that Utkut deemed it necessary to expend a considerable amount of his meticulously preserved mystical energy to invoke these defences underscored the severity of the situation he faced.

Utkut rested his head in his hands, tapping his temples with his fingers in a rhythmic pattern. Anxiety gripped him as he realized that things were veering off course. Events were slipping from his grasp, a sensation he could keenly perceive with his well-honed intuition. Forces were at play, driving circumstances beyond the realm of predictability, even for a goblin as astute as himself.

He couldn't quite fathom how it had all transpired. Initially, everything had proceeded smoothly. His agents relayed news of the black barge's demise, confirming that once again, his unwitting pawn, Girn the barbarian, had executed his bidding. Within days, the Council of Goblinkind had sanctioned an expansion of his invasion force, signalling the potential for a decisive triumph over the humans. But then...

But then some dreaded plague began to ravage his own ranks. The Underground became overwhelmed with afflicted and dying goblin warriors. Despite efforts to cremate the bodies swiftly, scores more succumbed to the illness. Even the elven slaves tasked with tending the funeral pyres fell victim. The plethora symptoms bore a striking resemblance to those that had plagued the humans on the surface before Leprous Foulbreath had been stopped. It was almost a sign that the Ever-Hungry had turned his gaze away from the great invasion force, and withdrawn his blessing from the army. Certainly some of the more superstitious warriors were starting to mutter such things, and none of Utkut's cleverly composed sermons had reassured them. They feared they would be the next victims of the plague. As a result, morale plummeted, a precarious state of affairs that Utkut knew all too well was not uncommon in goblin armies.

Despite his best efforts to root out dissenters who murmured disloyal and treasonous sentiments, assigning elite units of skullbashers to execute deserters immediately, and personally dispatching traitors with his most powerful spells, Utkut's endeavours had proven futile. The corruption had taken hold, and the army was steadily disintegrating. He felt powerless to halt the descent into chaos.

Utkut kicked one of the goblin bones at his feet. They were from the last messenger who had brought him bad news. It flew through the air and impacted on the curtain of spells surrounding the pentagram. Sparks flickered and smoke belched. The air smelled of ash and soot. Utkut's nose twitched in appreciation of the smell resulting from his powerful magic. He returned to his brooding.

Since news of the army's setbacks had reached Goblingard, no further reinforcements had arrived. Though it wasn't the vast horde of goblin warriors he had envisioned, Utkut believed it could suffice if he employed all his cunning and strategic foresight. Action needed to be taken promptly to salvage the situation while there remained an army capable of combat. Utkut was confident that he still commanded sufficient troops to overwhelm the human city through swift, savage, and surprise attacks. Even if the army dispersed afterward, his objective would be achieved: Yeledor would fall, and Utkut could report success to the Council of Goblinkind. It would then be the responsibility of his superiors to dispatch garrison troops to maintain control of the city. Should they fail to arrive in time, Utkut would not accept blame.

The more Utkut pondered it, the more sensible this plan appeared. He could still fulfil his mission and claim his portion of glory. Moreover, he could deflect responsibility for any subsequent events onto their rightful targets: his incompetent subordinates and the traitors who abandoned the army just before its anticipated victory.

He reviewed the forces under his control. He still had close to five thousand almost-healthy warriors drawn mostly from Clan Gur. He still had several teams of skullbashers and a cadre of Clan Dagger assassins, the shadow shivs. The various foolish adventures undertaken by their treacherous leaders had left him with only a token force from Clan Arx and Clan Pathos. Trolk Tul and his force of goblin-ogres, though, were still a formidable presence.

He understood that a straightforward frontal assault might not be the most effective strategy given the current situation. What he sought was a daring move that would ensure decisive and undeniable triumph. And he was confident he had a plan that could accomplish just that.

His spies reported that the humans' ruler, the King, was planning a masked ball soon, likely in an attempt to divert attention from the troubles they'd had. If the palace could be seized during the event, capturing all the human nobles inside, the defence in Yeledor would be left leaderless and vulnerable to the goblin assault. Combining the raid with the attack on the city would be even more advantageous. With the palace and the city both under goblin control, chaos and fear would reign. Perhaps, with the ruler in Utkut's grasp, the humans might even be persuaded to surrender, resulting in more slaves taken.

It would have to be done soon, if he was to have any hope of success, but at least here was a chance that he could snatch victory from the slavering jaws of defeat.

Before proceeding with his plan, Utkut faced another hurdle. He needed to disable the protective spells around him so he could exit his chamber and issue commands. With a resigned sigh, he began the incantations necessary to deactivate the spells and free himself from the confines of his pentagram.

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Girn cursed as he stepped in a midden heap. His mind had wandered and now there was shit stuck to his boot. He had been pondering all the events involving the goblins. The city of Yeledor had been under a curse, Girn thought. He had fought the greenskins in the sewers, the Full Tankard, the Office of Ingenuity, the Black Gardens of Zoaris, and on a barge in the middle of the river Yele. Now, finally, the city appeared to be rid of them. For two full weeks, Girn had not encountered them, or received a mysterious note warning him of the next goblin operation. Also, the exponentially expanding plague variants had disappeared from one day to the next. Girn suspected it was the result of him destroying that large cauldron that leprous goblin priest was brewing something foul in.

He remembered the words of Magister Rebus. The city had been indeed under siege, but it was a siege of a most unusual type. There were no siege towers. No weapons had been brought to bear except robbery and disease. There was no enemy which could be sought out and battled. Stealth was the foe here, and there was no sword with which it could be fought.

Girn's belly grumbled, and he hastened down Low Street. Ahead of him lay the Buxom Beauty, a house of pleasure he had visited before to enjoy the company of Cassie or Molly, or both. He entered and was instantly greeted by Molly.

"Girn! Welcome back! Are you here for a good time?" She winked a him and giggled.

"Maybe," he replied. "But I'd like to fill my stomach first."

Molly guided him to a table and arranged his meal. After a bowl of porridge and chicken stew, he washed everything down with two pints of ale. Girn looked around the room and caught the gaze of Molly. He gestured her over.

"Let me guess, you want a desert?" Molly asked, sliding next to him on the bench and tracing her hand across his muscled chest.

"Depends," Girn said, playing along. "What is there to offer?"

"Well," Molly whispered. "I can arrange something more exotic than usual."

"I like the sound of that," Girn smiled.

Molly returned after a couple of minutes. "Desert is ready to be served in your room."

Together they ascended the stairs and entered a room. On the bed were arrayed two women. One was a dark-skinned woman with well-rounded hips and breasts. The other had a bronze colour to her skin, shoulder length red hair and equally large tits. Girn looked at Molly and she smiled back. He was excited for this rendezvous orchestrated by her. She reached underneath his loincloth and softly stroked his shaft.

Tugging at his cock, Molly guided Girn to a chaise longue and both sat down. "Let the show begin," she said to the women. To Girn, she added, "Please enjoy the first part of your desert."

The black woman stood up first. She slowly undressed in front of them, teasing by wiggling her juicy butt in Girn's face. She wore a white lace thong, a bright contrast against her dark smooth skin. She had long beautiful legs supporting her generous backside. Her tits were large and rounded. She held them in her hands and pushed them into Girn's face. Before he could stick out his tongue to catch her nipple, she pulled away and laughed.

Meanwhile, Molly had removed his loincloth, his large cock pointing to the ceiling. She had licked the palm of her hand and had jerked him off while he was watching the ebony beauty undress. Now it was the bronze-skinned woman's turn, and Molly repositioned herself so she could take Girn's tip in between her lips while continuing to stroke his shaft.

The second woman of pleasure undressed, but left on her lacey emerald lingerie. Her ample bosom spilled out over the top of the bra. Also a crescent of her dark bronze areola peeked out. Girn felt his heartbeat quicken at the sight of the two near-naked exotic beauties.

With a final circle around his tip, Molly released Girn and went to stand beside the other two. She took off her clothes and was left in her red lace outfit. All three began caressing each other and peeling away the lace regalia. Girn ravished their sight and took his meaty cock firmly in his hand to stroke himself. He noticed their hungry eyes often returning to his crotch.

"Why don't you help him, Jessie," Molly said to the one with bronze skin.

Jessie got down on her knees in front of Girn and breathed on his cock. Her breath felt hot and steamy. She released a quiet moan as she licked his shaft from balls to tip. Behind, Molly and the black woman squeezed their tits and moved their hands over their stunning bodies. Girn's gaze was pulled down as the redhead took his hard cock into her warm, wet mouth. Her naturally plump lips engulfed his tip and part of his shaft.

While Jessie was sucking Girn, Molly instructed the dark-skinned woman, "Get on the bed, Savannah, legs open." Savannah spread her legs wide, knees up, and showed off her glistening black pussy. Her outer lips peeled back to reveal her moist inner pink lips. Molly pulled her towards the edge of the bed and got her face down into her pussy. Girn could hear Molly eating Savannah, slurping on those dark pussy lips.

"Stand up and turn around," Girn said to Jessie. After she did so, Girn also stood and grabbed her hips, shoving his cock through the gap between her thighs, getting his shaft wet with her juices. He bucked his hips and pushed his cock halfway into Jessie's wet pussy while keeping his eyes on Molly eating out Savannah. The redhead's body shivered in response to his penetration.

The black woman was fine with getting her pussy licked and sucked and Girn was enjoying fucking the hot little bronze-skinned beauty. Molly lifted her head from Savannah's pussy and said something inaudible to her. Savannah nodded and turned around to positioned herself on hands and knees, butt up in the air. Molly spanked both ass cheeks.

Girn knew what he had to do next. Sliding out of Jessie, he walked over to the other two. He kissed Molly, tasting Savannah's juices on her lips, before kneeling down and burying his face in her round, fleshy butt. With his large hands, he kneaded those cheeks and slapped them a couple of times like Molly had. Tasting the dark-skinned's pussy, Girn felt Molly's lips caress his ear and whisper, "Delicious, isn't it? Go on now, fuck her. Fuck her good, for me."

Girn didn't need telling twice. Standing straight, he guided his throbbing cock into Savannah's pussy. She gasped from the thick cock penetrating her. She looked backwards, showing her ecstatic expression as he started pushing in and out of her wet hole.

Jessie had joined them and was crawling on the bed with Molly. Their tongues were entwined in a passionate kiss while their fingers explored their bodies. When they found each other's wet folds, they began rubbing their clits and delving digits into their hot holes.

Girn and Savannah both enjoyed the show Jessie and Molly provided, fingering each other's pussy. Savannah beckoned Jessie over and invited her to spread her legs in front of her friend. Savannah lowered her mouth and eager tongue onto the redhead's pussy, nibbling her folds and licking back and forth.

Molly had come up beside Girn, cooing in his ear, "Ooooh, yes. Fuck her good. I love seeing your cock going in and out of her pussy."

She placed a hand on each ass cheek and pulled the apart, revealing Savannah's puckering hole. Molly traced a finger around the rosebud, eliciting moans from the ebony beauty. Girn was fucking her faster and harder, pushing his large cock way up inside her. The sound of Savannah's voice, her moans, and the noise of hips slamming against thighs filled the room. Jessie was also moaning as Savannah's tongue on her clit brought her to an orgasm.

Girn slammed his cock inside Savannah and when Molly pushed a digit inside her ass, the black woman of pleasure came with a cry. Girn felt her pussy contract on his cock, the waves of contraction trying to milk his cum out. But Girn wasn't finished fucking. After Savannah's orgasm, he rolled her sideways and pulled Jessie closer by her open legs.

With his cock slick with Savannah's juices, Girn easily slid inside Jessie's equally wet pussy. With no ass presented to her to play with, Molly instead dove onto the bronze-skinned beauty's tits, squeezing soft flesh in her hands and nibbling on hard nipples. There was so much juice pouring out of Jessie's quivering pussy that Girn felt it leak down his legs. More so, when another orgasm hit Jessie, she exclaimed, "Oooh fuck, I'm going to squirt!" and juices sprayed Girn's crotch and stomach.

Now, after fucking both Savannah and Jessie, Girn was ready to cum. The women read into his louder grunts and positioned themselves in a row. All on their knees, Girn was left with stroking himself to completion. With one long groan he shot hot, sticky strings of cum across the three women's faces.

Girn covered every square inch of Jessie, Molly, and Savannah with his cum. They all giggled enthusiastically with each spurt hitting them. When he was finished cumming, they engaged in a kissing frenzy, gathering up all the cum and delightfully smacking their lips afterwards.

Another wonderful hour spent in the Buxom Beauty.

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Ahead lay the Full Tankard. Outside it lolled several mercenaries who had billeted themselves in the tavern because they knew it and its owner. Girn knew them all and they knew him. They hailed him as he approached and Girn returned the gesture.

Inside the tavern, Hans sat at the table beside the fire, warming his hands. One of his bouncers, Iskander, sat with him, glugging back an enormous stein of ale.

"I hear the King is throwing a big fancy dress ball," Hans said with a grin. "Maybe you'll be invited since you're acquainted with the palace now."

"Somehow I doubt it," Girn said. He had not heard from the palace since he had been summoned by Rebus two weeks ago to explain the burning of the black barge. Maybe the magister thought the same; Yeledor was finally rid of the goblins and he didn't need anything from Girn anymore. "Anybody seen Mina?"

"She's up in your room, I think?"

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Tix Gur surveyed the dimly lit chamber, feeling a sense of dread unlike any he had experienced before. It was the first time he could remember being cornered by three such formidable goblins. He suppressed a cough and fought against a sneeze, fearing either might betray his presence, but his efforts were futile. The three goblins, Leprous Foulbreath, Trolk Tul, and Wrench Claw-Arm, fixated their malevolent gazes on him, their attention drawn to his trembling figure as if he were a tempting snack. Especially Trolk Tul.

Tix longed for relief from his aching body, his clammy hands, and the throbbing pain in his head. He understood that his condition wouldn't improve; he had contracted the plague and realized he was facing death, unless Leprous Foulbreath kept his promise and intervened with the Ever-Hungry on his behalf.

Tix realized he was in a perilous situation, caught between two dangerous options. His only chance of survival lay in obeying the orders of the fearsome diseasemonger. However, Leprous Foulbreath's demands involved betraying his master, shaman Utkut. The thought of the consequences sent shivers down Tix' spine; facing the formidable sorcerer's wrath was something no sane goblin wished to endure.

Once again, the three goblins huddled together, whispering amongst themselves. Tix felt a desperate urge to decipher their conversation. Then again, considering it likely involved his fate, perhaps ignorance would be preferable. He cursed his own weakness. He had realized his predicament when he had recognized the figures awaiting him in the chamber that Leprous had led him to. It became clear that the negotiations the diseasemonger had hinted at had succeeded, aligning two formidable goblin factions with Clan Pathos.

In a secluded chamber, shielded by Leprous's powerful magic and far from any potential eavesdroppers, Wrench Claw-Arm and Trolk Tul had awaited Tix. The moment he had laid eyes on them, Tix knew his secret was out. Pressured by Leprous, he had divulged everything, admitting that Utkut had somehow uncovered their plans. Tix had also revealed Utkut's messages to their fearsome enemy, the barbarian warrior. Unsurprisingly, these esteemed goblins were outraged by what they perceived as the shaman's treacherous actions.

He had felt the palpable hostility emanating from them and had made every effort to divert their attention away from himself. He had been warned about the gruesome methods of Clan Arx's torture devices, and the horrifying accounts of Trolk's penchant for consuming his enemies' entrails while they were still alive had made him shudder on numerous occasions.

To escape his impending doom, he had searched his memory for every detail, aiming to persuade them of his full cooperation. The fear of imminent agony outweighed any concerns about potential repercussions from shaman Utkut in the future. Moreover, a cunning thought emerged in a small, deeply concealed corner of Tix' mind: if he could provoke enough anger in these three goblins to seek vengeance against shaman Utkut, then Utkut would be unable to retaliate against him.

He was pretty sure now that he had succeeded. Wrench Claw-Arm had punched cracks in the wall in rage as Tix explained how the shaman had sent explicit details to the barbarian concerning Clan Arx's plan to invade the Office of Ingenuity. He had even fabricated a few convincing details of how the shaman had laughed and gloated about how his stupid enemies would soon fall into his trap.