Barbarian Legends - Goblinslayer 07

Utkut felt dizzy and realised that he was losing himself in his spell. His power was bleeding away and, if he intended to accomplish what he wanted, he had better do it soon. With a wrench he sent his spirit soaring back towards the palace. He funnelled it into the link with the scrying stone and looked out once more on Skrag Nrak. Suddenly, with a snap, he was back in his own body again and the words of the spell were tumbling from his mouth.

He concentrated with all his might, bringing to bear all the relentless discipline of his many years as a shaman and the spell swiftly returned to his control. In the air before him, the dark cloud shimmered and parted, revealing a rift in space running from the point just in front of where Utkut stood to the ground around Skrag Nrak's scrying crystal.

"Quick! Forward!" he shouted to his companies of skullbashers. They marched forward into the black cloud, shimmered and vanished to reappear in the very heart of the human king's palace.

**********

Ahead Girn could see the goblin-ogres. They loomed head and shoulders above the crowd, monstrous creatures, man-shaped but with out-of-proportions limbs and the heads of immense rabid goblins. The scars of a variety of foul mutations marred their flesh. Each had hands the size of shovels which ended in claws like daggers. Huge tusks dripping with saliva filled their mouths. Their bellows were audible even over the din of battle.

At the sight of them, Girn felt the momentum of their charge dissipating as they contemplated the horrific appearance of their foes. Only Girn showed no fear. He ploughed onward, unwilling or unable to be bothered by the fearsome nature of his foes. The goblin-ogres were no more troubled by the barbarian's arrival than he was by theirs. With an ear-shattering roar, they charged rabidly to meet him.

Nothing should have been able to withstand the onslaught of that huge mass of muscle and tusk and claw and greataxe. For a moment, all heads turned and even the goblins stopped their relentless advance to watch.

Completely undaunted by the fact his opponents were nearly his size, Girn came on. His greataxe flashed, glowing red in the lurid blaze of the burning buildings, and one of the goblin-ogres tumbled backwards, its leg chopped off at the knee. As it fell the barbarian's axe slashed back again and severed its arm. Clutching at the bloody stump with its good hand, the creature rolled over on the ground, writhing and screaming.

Another of the immense creatures reached out and made a grab for him. Its razor-like talons bit into his shoulder. Bloody droplets appeared as the mighty beast tried to pull him off balance. It opened its huge jaws to the fullest extension as if intending to take a bite out of the barbarian. Girn brought his weapon crashing down. Powered by all the awesome strength of the barbarian's mighty arms, it smashed the goblin-ogre's head in two. Blood, brains and teeth exploded everywhere. Tearing his blade free, Girn turned to the remaining goblin-ogres and snarled.

**********

Skrag Nrak watched in amazement as the air in front of him shimmered. For a moment, it appeared like a small, bright hole had been punched in the very fabric of the world. Through that hole leaked a vile black gas which smelled of ozone and dark magic.

Even as the assassin watched, the cloud expanded and shimmered until it stood higher than any goblin. Then the cloud itself parted to reveal a gateway joining the privy in which Skrag Nrak stood to the place where the shaman was.

Skrag Nrak heard a sudden noise behind him and spun around to see an ornately garbed human enter the privy, fumbling with his codpiece as if he intended to empty his bladder. The human reeked of alcohol. He paused in amazement and looked at the skulking goblin, then shook his head as if to clear it.

"My, my," he said. "That's a bloody good costume!"

Then his eyes widened further as he noticed the ranks of skullbashers starting to pour through Utkut's sorcerous gateway. He opened his mouth and had just time for one shriek of warning before Skrag Nrak's throwing knife buried itself in his throat. The man slowly slid to the floor, gurgling and trying to hold the spurts of blood inside his body. He failed and the privy walls were painted dark red while he died.

More and more goblin warriors flowed into the chamber, bursting out from the privy and into the corridors of the palace.

**********

Molly closed her eyes. She smiled when she felt the hot, sticky goo hit her face. It were thick, creamy ropes that covered her features. Just how she loved it. It was a voluminous load and seemed to have glued shut her eyelids, nostrils, and lips. She eagerly wiped everything clear with her hand and licked the cum from her fingers.

"That's hot," her customer said.

Commotion in the corridor made both turn towards the door. It was smashed open and a foul-smelling monster charged in, skewering her customer through the stomach with a viscious serrated blade. The man howled in agony.

Molly wanted to scream but a second, smaller abomination was hidden behind the first. It brandished a rusted dagger and sliced her throat open as she raised her head to shriek. Only a gurgle escaped her lungs before she collapsed.

**********

Girn ducked, threw himself flat, and rolled under a blow that would have taken his head off, had it connected. Up close the goblin-ogres were a sight to behold. Their muscles were like the cables used to moor ships and they looked as if they could smash through a stone wall with little effort. Worse yet was the smell, an awful combination of animal reek, wet fungus, and decay. It reminded Girn of old and very sour cheese but was infinitely stronger, and threatened to bring tears to his eyes.

He rolled to one side as a fist the size of his head smashed into the ground where he had been. He kicked out at the goblin-ogre's leg, hoping to unbalance it, but he might as well have been kicking a tree trunk. Girn quickly got to his feet. Mad triumph appeared in the monster's small beady eyes. It opened its jaws and bellowed so loudly that Girn thought he would go deaf. The creature reached for him, but Girn lashed out with his blade and caught it across the knuckles with the razor-sharp edge. The goblin-ogre's eyes went wide in surprise at the pain. Whimpering like a child, it pulled its hand back to its mouth to lick the wound. Taking advantage of its distraction, Girn swung upwards, driving the blade of the greataxe right into the goblin-ogre's groin and dividing its torso up to its chest in two.

The creature gave a shriek like the whistle of a boiling kettle as all its intestines spilled out. Girn punched the thing's opened jaws, sending it crashing to the ground like a felled tree. The light went out of its eyes as it died instantly.

Pausing to catch his breath a moment, he looked around. The last of the goblin-ogres was going down, the mercenaries and citizens swarming over it, but the victory had been won at awful cost. Many human corpses covered the ground for every goblin-ogre which had fallen. It looked like only he had bested one of the beasts in single combat.

Still, briefly and temporarily though it might turn out to be, it looked like the tide of battle had turned in their favour. The goblin leaders, including the grossly fat monster which had ordered the goblin-ogres to attack, were fleeing backwards to regroup.

More and more people were massing in the streets to fight off the invaders. In the distance, Girn could hear the sound of horns and drums as the small army which surrounded the Noble Quarter began to advance down into the city. He wished he had some idea of how the battle was going. In the raging maelstrom of conflict it was difficult to say. They had won a victory here but it was all too possible that the goblins were triumphant in every other part of the city. Perhaps now would be a good time to make a run for it, he thought.

Then he saw Hans marching through the crowd towards him. A terrible, bloody grin revealed gaps where he had lost teeth while fighting. Mad battle lust still filled his eyes.

"You brought a good fight with you, Girn," he said.

Girn nodded and then suddenly remembered how this had all started. He fumbled within his loincloth to retrieve the scrap of parchment, then slowly unrolled it to read its message.

**********

Shaman Utkut watched the last of his troops pass through the gateway and then stepped through himself. He felt a sense of relief as the mystic portal closed automatically behind him. Even for a shaman of Utkut's awesome powers, holding it open while hundreds of skullbashers poured through had been a terrible strain.

Now he could relax and watch his plan unfold before him. He quivered with anticipation of his triumph. Victory was within reach! Soon he would hold the human rulers hostage and command them to order their troops to surrender on pain of most hideous death. If they refused, he would make an example of some of them until they did agree. He was looking forward to some sport. Then the twitching of his nostrils warned him that something odd was happening, and he squinted around the chamber to confirm his suspicions.

Yes, it was true. It did not smell like a great hallway. It smelled like a midden. Utkut stuck his head through the door. He looked into a corridor in which skullbashers milled in confusion. This was not the hallway they had been told to expect. He could see their leader studying his map with a look of puzzlement on his face. The awful truth dawned on Utkut: that incompetent idiot Skrag Nrak had placed his scrying crystal in the wrong place!

Utkut bared his teeth in a ferocious snarl. It was just as well for the Clan Dagger assassin that he was not in sight, thought Utkut. The shaman swore that when he found Skrag he would flay his flesh from his bones using the darkest magic that he could command.

Utkut stalked out into the corridor to search for his goal.

**********

Girn looked down at the parchment. It was hard to tell in the gloom but the writing looked somehow different, smaller, neater, more precise. Not that it mattered right now, as Girn read what it had to say:

"Hoomans! The traitor sjaman Utkut will invade the palaz this nite and kapture all yore leeders! Yoo must stop him or yore city will fall. Utkut is a very powerful sorcerur and will yoose his eevil majik to stop yoo."

Hans looked up at Girn and received the note to read for himself. "Fuck me bloody," he said. "Do we go to the palace and rescue our oh so noble rulers from this goblin menace?" The sarcasm was clear in his voice. "It's not like they are here to offer assistance. They only ever command us and never support us." Hans looked at all the dead goblins around his tavern and shrugged. "Eh, rather them nobs than those gobs slaving us about. To the palace it is."

"We're most likely going to have to fight our way through the city to get there."

"Where's the problem in that?" Hans's lips curled into a mad smile.

"I like the way you think," Girn said.

"Citizens of Yeledor! Goblin slayers!" Hans shouted, getting the attention of the crowd. "The goblins have plagued our city for too long!" Girn could sense the crowd's anger and hatred and fear, and he could sense that Hans had given it a focus. "Are you ready to kill some more goblins?"

"Yes!" cried a few of the crowd. Many still looked uncertain. For the most part they were not warriors, just ordinary people suddenly thrown into a situation they did not truly understand.

"Are you ready to drive the goblin from your city?"

More voices shouted: "Yes."

"Are you ready to slaughter these monsters without mercy as they would you and your kin?"

"Yes!" roared the whole crowd in a frenzy of rage and fear.

"Then follow us! To the palace!" Hans turned to Girn and said to him, "Lead the way, mighty barbarian."

Girn broke into a run with Hans, Iskander, and Gullen at his back. As one, the crowd followed them through the burning streets of the city.

**********

Tix Gur cowered in the shadow of Trolk Tul. The huge Clan Frak leader looked at him hungrily. He still seemed to be in a state of shock from watching the defeat of his prized goblin-ogres.

"I thought you said the barbarian had received the message and was on his way to... intercede with shaman Utkut."

"The message was delivered, leader of Frak! I cannot be held responsible for what happens next. Maybe he was caught up in the fighting."

"Maybe! All of this has left us exposed, though. Very exposed. We must find another goblin force quickly or return to the safety of the sewers."

"Yes, most perceptive of masters."

"Have you seen Wrench Claw-Arm or Leprous Foulbreath?"

"Not since we were attacked, greatest of leaders," Tix said.

"We must find them first! I need them to oppose Utkut before disposing of them too. Let us be on our way!"

**********

Filled with rage, Utkut stalked the corridors of the palace. The damnable place was huge and it was as much a maze as anything he made his pet elves run through. His carefully contrived plan had fallen apart solely because of the incompetence of Skrag Nrak. It had relied on speed, surprise and the fury of the goblin assault to overwhelm the defence. Now his skullbashers were reduced to racing through the corridors and fighting skirmishes with groups of sentries. It was only a matter of time before the humans realised what was going on, concentrated their forces, and began to fight back. Utkut still expected a victory under those circumstances. His warriors were many and bold, but there was always the possibility that something might happen to tip the odds against them. Utkut would have much preferred a sudden overwhelming victory, not this period of anger and doubt.

**********

"Faster. Yes, right there," Topaz was cooing to Ruby.

The redhead fingered her friend passionately. She studiously moved her index and middle finger in and out of the blonde's wet pussy while occasionally rubbing her thumb on her clit. Ruby shifted position so her head was above Topaz' bosom while she was able to continue pleasuring her friend down below. She lowered her lips onto a stiff nipple and flicked it with her tongue, eliciting an extended moan from Topaz.

Topaz grabbed Ruby's fiery hair and pushed her head down into her large breasts. Lifting her again, she said to her, "I want you to make me squirt."

A smile creeped onto the redhead's gorgeous face. She left Topaz' bosom and nestled her head in between the blonde's legs. With enthusiasm, Ruby suckled on Topaz' clit while her fingers pumped into her soaking pussy with increased pace and force.

"Ooooh, mmmmmh, yes!" Topaz moaned.

Ruby sucked hard on the love bud and flicked her tongue against it. Her fingers made a beckoning motion within her friend's pussy, pushing against the clitoris from inside. Topaz began to wriggle and writhe while Ruby brought her forcefully to an orgasm. As Topaz screamed out her climax, Ruby lifted her head but kept her fingers pumping like an overcharged piston into her friend.

Juices exploded from Topaz' pussy and sprayed Ruby's naked body, droplets sticking to her sweaty skin, across her stomach and on top of her full tits.

"Aaaaah, fuuuuck!" Topaz screamed from the top of her lungs as her body spasmed with ecstasy.

Ruby didn't stop fingering and instead added sensation by twisting Topaz' nipples and slapping her breasts. She did stop, however, when the windows exploded inward with a maelstrom of blazing hot fire. They both looked up in disbelief as the flaming vortex engulfed them and the roof collapsed.

**********

Wrench Claw-Arm laughed in excitement. Once again he watched the fire throwers sweep through the buildings. These huge human structures burned well. Their wooden supports caught fire easily, and the soft stone and brick from which they were made melted in the fierce heat of the chemical flames. This whole street deserved to be burned to the ground. It reeked like human rutting and Wrench wanted to get rid of it.

Wrench had thought it best to separate from the others when his gunner had accidentally shot one of Trolk Tul's goblin-ogres. It was an accident, Wrench knew, but the goblins of Clan Frak were insanely suspicious. Wrench had no desire to have Trolk Tul "accidentally" stab him in the back so he had led his troops away from the main battle to continue spreading destruction.

And how glad he was that he had done so. There was something truly enthralling about watching the machineries of destruction at work, of feeling the heat and flames his warriors had caused warm his face and watching these giant structures tumble down. Wrench stared upwards for a long time, watching the tenement collapse. He startled when a hand fell on his shoulder.

"Claw-Arm!" Trolk Tull said. "Where is Foulbreath?"

Wrench looked at the Clan Frak leader and Tix grovelling at the huge goblin's side. A loud crack pulled his gaze back to the burning building. It was only at that very last moment that he realised that tons of brick and blazing wood were crashing down right on top of him. And by then, it was far too late for him, Trolk, or Tix to escape.

**********

Jamie felt ecstatic. He couldn't have hoped for a superior development. The masked ball had been boring up until the lady with an antlered deer mask and deep blue gown had gestured him over. She had engaged him in a whispered conversation, occasionally letting slip a lewd remark. Uncertain at first, Jamie had ignored the comments, but later on he got more and more convinced the lady meant every word she had said. At that point, he had tried to reciprocate the candor. Then it had all happened so fast.

"Get naked," she said now, after she had ushered him into a vacated room. Jamie obliged, stripping out of his elven ranger outfit. He stopped halfway and looked up.

"Aren't you undressing, Lady..."

"Call me Clair, and don't worry, I can quickly discard my robes." Pulling a pin from the folds on her shoulder, Clair let her entire costume flow to the flagstones.

"Wow," was all Jamie managed when gratified by such a divine sight. A modest pair of breasts sat firmly on her chest and were adorned with perky nipples. He couldn't wait to get his hands on her supple flesh. When Lady Clair also tore her deer mask off, Jamie stared into her mesmerizing eyes and glanced across her gorgeous face. Lady Clair had cute freckles, quite in contrast to the more rebellious ring through her nose septum. She was beautiful, he decided, and pulled his trousers further down.

"Oh dear," was all she managed to say when she spotted the huge erection that Jamie released. He saw her looking and the smile on her face at what she saw. Although his primal urges jumped to the fore, Jamie was convinced to behave knightly so he knelt in front of her and took her hand, saying nothing while he planted a kiss on the back of her hand.

Lady Clair seemed taken aback by such a gracious gesture and blushed. She was more used to blunt lords and brusque knights, all of them straightforward and impatient to start fucking. She smiled and nodded her permission for him to continue. His kisses moved up her hand, up her arm to her bosom, which was now heaving. His kisses were soft and gentle and tickled her delicate skin in such a way her breasts were covered in goosebumps. She was so intrigued by the stranger she had lured here that she reached down to remove his mask.

Beneath the mask was a young man with short, curly, black hair. His cheeks formed dimples as he smiled up at her.

"Oh my, you're so young!" Lady Clair exclaimed.

A confused expression covered Jamie's face. "I'm twenty summers old," he said defensively.

"Oh, don't be concerned, lad," she said. "I merely expected you to be a little bit older." She glanced across his body again. It was fit, not bulging with muscles, but hardened by hard labour. "You'll do just fine, you sexy thing."