The Wandering Inn_Volume 1, page 673
And yet the Goblin King came on. Velan the Kind charged ever onwards, his magical defenses slowly failing in front of the incredible assault. His flesh burned, the spells tore his body apart.
But still he came on. And here we come to one of the mysteries of the Second Antinium Wars, one of the places where history clearly diverged. Because of chance, dear readers. The Goblin King was approaching the first ranks of the mages, unstoppable. And one word separates this history from being a triumph to a tale of despair.
If.
If Velan the Kind had survived to rampage among the mage’s ranks, the battle might have been lost despite the combined armies. His Goblin Lords had yet to begin falling, and the Archmages of Wistram might have well decided to flee rather than confront the Goblin King in person. And if they had, there was no guarantee of their survival, given how Velan had survived their most deadly spells at range. Had he lived, Velan might have rallied his forces and cut apart the allied armies, rallying his Goblins and dooming Izril.
But it was not to be. The Goblin King’s charge that had crushed the finest of soldiers, gone through spell after spell and through an elite group of Gold-rank adventurers stopped before it could cause disaster. And it was stopped by the simplest of things:
A single arrow through the eye.
It was incredible, unprecedented. The Goblin King’s protections had been destroyed by the magical attacks on his person, but his body was still as tough as diamonds, his reflexes unhindered by the damage he had sustained. He was almost upon the first rank when a lone Silver-rank adventurer half-Elf by the name of Elia Arcsinger loosed an arrow that hit the Goblin King in the eye. She used the Skill of [Piercing Shot] and at nearly point-blank range her arrow was able to do what every other arrow and spell could not. The lucky shot pieced the Goblin King’s skull and killed him in an instant.
To this day, the death of Velan the Kind remains a contentious point among [Strategists] and [Tacticians] alike. Many argue that Velan the Kind should not have perished as he did, regardless of luck. While it is a known fact that a stray arrow or blade can kill all but the most well-defended warriors on the battlefield many [Strategists] argue that the Goblin King should have been able to dodge the shot.
That the arrow was capable of killing the Goblin King was not in dispute. Elia Arcsinger was in possession of an enchanted Arrow of Slaying known for its piercing properties and was using a similarly enchanted longbow certified by several Gnoll [Bowmakers] as capable of propelling arrows as far as four hundred meters across the battlefield.
Combined with the [Piercing Shot] Skill, her arrow would have stood a good chance of piercing even the Goblin King’s skin at point-blank rank. That she struck him in the eye resulted in the fatal injury, all of which is understood to be accurate by most who take up this debate. The crux of the issue is that the Goblin King did not avoid the arrow, which most [Strategists] concede he should have been able to do.
The general argument is that the Goblin King had been known to catch arrows and dodge them in other battles. That he failed to do so in this case might have been due to the chaos of the battlefield, or the effects of one of the spells he endured. Nevertheless, there remains a vocal minority who claim that Elia Arcsinger used a special Skill or had some other enchantment on her body she herself may have been unaware of. Or perhaps her latest abilities were the reason for her miraculous shot.
After all, the half-Elf’s fame for killing the Goblin King has resulted in Elia Arcsinger becoming known as one of the greatest Named Adventurers of this age. The title of Kingslayer and her famous [Line-Ender Shot] Skill obtained from killing the Goblin King do seem to indicate that the credit for the Goblin King’s death should lie with Elia Arcsinger and no other. And yet, many [Strategists] still argue the event to this day.
To this writer’s mind there is little purpose speculating overlong as to the cause of the Goblin King’s death. It is enough to say that he died, and the world will ever be grateful to Elia Arcsinger for her steady aim in that last hour of desperation. So let this bring an end to pointless debates. The Goblin King should have dodged. But he did not. And history will note that as fact. There is no point arguing over what occurred, especially when more important issues demand the attention of [Strategists] and their ilk.
“But that’s so suspicious!”
Olesm leapt to his feet, tail thrashing as he forgot where he was and shouted in his small office. He angrily waved the book he was holding about, shouting at it as if his voice could reach Krsysl Wordsmith if only he was loud enough.
“That’s the entire point! If the Goblin King should have survived, why didn’t he? Was it a spell or a Skill or what? Was it betrayal like some theories indicate? Or did an Archmage cast a spell? What about the interview where Elia Arcsinger said herself she doesn’t know why the Goblin King didn’t dodge? Don’t just gloss over all the important details, you egg-headed moron!”
He collapsed into his chair, panting, and held the book open.
“How did it happen? Why? Why did he die there when he should have won? Was it just luck? Really? Or was it something else?”
Olesm stared at the book, and turned the next page.
“This is a terrible historical account. I hope no one takes this seriously.”
He read on, knowing what had happened next. What had happened, yes, but not the why. The why of it was lost to Olesm, a precious secret that no [Strategist] or [Archer] had even been able to puzzle out. Why didn’t Velan the Kind dodge? What did he see? What happened?
Only the Goblins knew the truth. And even then, only a Goblin King could explain why it had happened. But it had. And that was that.
Or so the book said.
—-
The battle finished minutes after the Goblin King’s death. Although only a fraction of the Goblins present had witnessed the event, every Goblin on the field and perhaps every Goblin in the world sensed Velan the Kind die the moment it happened. Witnesses report seeing Goblins falling to their knees or throwing down their arms, allowing the combined armies to cut them down, too grief-stricken to fight back.
While it may be amusing to readers to imagine Goblins exhibiting any kind of grief, it does appear this was the case, as the Goblins fled, their morale broken by their King’s demise. And with that, the last battle of the Second Antinium Wars was won. The Necromancer had been destroyed, the Goblin King slain, and the Antinium had been pacified. At least for the moment.
However, I would urge you good readers to consider this last warning—
The story ended. The Goblin King died on the pages as he had on the battlefield, and across the world, readers closed the book and looked up.
Some wept to hear of the Goblin King’s death. The Goblins around the Goblin Lord bowed in grief, and with that grief harbored their terrible rage against the world. Others, like Tyrion, smiled and promised his sons the same truth in the world—that evil would always be vanquished and good triumph.
And some, like Erin and the Antinium, just closed the book and sat in silence for a while, absorbing this tale of what had been. It was a flawed history, true, but one with grains of truth. Those readers would sit in a moment of introspection, as time flowed strangely around them and they felt, just for a second, as if they could see the very fates that had led to that moment in history.
And then the moment would break and Erin would offer everyone popcorn with yeast, which was, as she claimed, the only way to eat popcorn. And the Antinium would eat and Klbkch would let Erin take over to tell another story—Charlotte’s Web, a story which would cause much emotional distress on the part of every Soldier who had killed Shield Spiders.
Life went on, sometimes informed by the past, other times going on in blissful ignorance of it. Erin Solstice’s attempts to comfort a Soldier and explain that Charlotte was a special spider would be entertaining if confusing, but that story was only a backdrop. The narrative had not ended yet, and one pair of readers continued on. They flipped the page and continued the history, reading the final notes of Krsysl Wordsmith.
However, I would urge you good readers to consider this last warning before closing this book. Yes, the war was over. The last of the Goblin Lords died as they hurled themselves into battle. Without their King, the Goblins fled, only to be cut down to the last Goblin by the victorious armies. The world was at peace again.
And yet, what a hard-won peace! And at such a cost! Velan the Kind’s rampage might not have been as devastating as the last Goblin King’s path of destruction across Terandria, but it was certainly catastrophic to the Humans. More importantly, the battles with the Necromancer, Antinium, and the Goblins had laid waste to the beloved Drake cities and would be the work of years rebuilding.
Unfortunately, that also meant the truce with the Antinium had to be honored. The allied armies declined to attack the Antinium despite the urging of many sensible minds. Foolishly, the various world leaders decided they were sick of war and let the Antinium remain a threat. Worse, they allowed the Antinium to establish a Hive in Liscor, one of the stipulations of the peace treaty!
Why the heroic people of Liscor allowed this is beyond this writer—indeed, the Liscorian army criticized and then resisted this move, leading to a rift between the public and army. Subsequently, the Liscorian army has rarely returned to its home city and spends much time on the campaign. A true shame.
But Liscor’s problems are, alas, the world’s problems. The Antinium are the one enemy side that survived the Second Antinium Wars, and their ‘help’ only highlights their threat as a group. Their victory was forestalled by the greater threats of the Goblin King and the Necromancer, but that does not erase their menace. They surprised us all with their advancements since the First Antinium War—I dread to think of what they might do if given time to prepare again.
It is my hope that this book will serve to warn readers of the Antinium and present them with a greater understanding of Drake sacrifices. We must stand together against the Antinium threat. Alone we are prey to menaces like the Goblins. Let this history be a record: the Antinium have been our enemies once, and our allies of convenience a second time. But they will never be our friends. They remain our invaders and we must resist them. And it falls on the world to lend us their aide, lest the fall of the Drakes herald the death knell of the world.
We have survived Goblins, the undead, and the Antinium in this second great war for Izril. Let there never be another one in this writer’s lifetime. But if there is, I, Krsysl Wordsmith will document the war and history to the best of my ability. History must not be forgotten and I will retell it as it should be again and again. Thank you for reading. I remain yours, most humbly,
–Krsysl Wordsmith
At last it was over. Zel Shivertail lowered the book and closed the cover slowly with one claw. The he looked over at Lady Magnolia.
“What a terrible book. Why did you have me read through it again?”
She smiled sweetly at him and sipped from her cup of sugar and tea.
“Oh, perspective. My dear General Shivertail, don’t tell me you object to such a glorious retelling of Drake history?”
Zel grunted. He felt like he should wash his claws after touching the book. He pushed it across the table towards Lady Magnolia.
“I do, actually. History should be impartial, not biased and certainly not glorifying one species and insulting others. We all fought the Goblin King—to say any one species did more is insulting to all of us.”
“Ah, well, your opinions are not that of Mister Wordsmith’s. I said as much to him when he first published the book, but I’m afraid he didn’t listen to me. A pity you weren’t there; I think he might have listened to a fellow Drake, let alone the famous Tidebreaker. I think he admires you.”
“Ancestors.”
The Drake [General] shuddered and shook his head. He was sitting in a tent—his personal tent—at the small table he’d requested. This wasn’t the command tent so he had little to look at, but he did have a smaller map of Invrisil and the surrounding landscape he was studying.
Lady Magnolia and her [Maid] Ressa were sitting in Zel’s tent as if there was nothing odd about them being there. They had dropped by unannounced earlier that evening and Lady Magnolia had forced the history book on Zel. He wished he’d refused.
“I heard about this book coming out. And I heard how widely it was criticized so I never bothered to pick it up. I understand quite a lot of copies were made—why would you ever fund something like this?”
“I? I wouldn’t put my name on this book if Krsysl Wordsmith paid me.”
Lady Magnolia’s eyebrows shot up. Zel glanced at her.
“I thought you funded this.”
“I funded the first history. Not the second.”
She corrected him. Lady Magnolia frowned and sighed as she put her tea cup on the table. She picked up the book and flipped through it sadly.
“I paid Krsysl Wordsmith to write the history of the First Antinium Wars shortly after it had ended. He was an eager young [Writer] and he did an excellent job of writing the history. It was widely praised as you know.”
“I do know. What went wrong with the second one?”
“The fame went to his head I fear. And he decided to take the money that had made him rich from writing the first book and invest it in the second. He wrote the second as a patriot, thinking it would make him beloved. Instead, it earned him criticism from his own people. Although he does have quite a number of Drakes who still think of him as a good writer. I did try to persuade him to write a more unbiased history, but he detests me I’m afraid.”
“That idiot.”
Zel grunted. He picked up the book and shook his head as he flipped through pages of commentary, maps of the battlegrounds, sketches of the Goblin Lords—and one of himself. Zel stared at a rather flattering image of himself holding the Necromancer’s head with Liscor in the background. He shook his head in disgust.
“This helps no one. The answer is simple and this author should have seen it. We have to fight together. That’s how we beat the Goblin King. Peace between Humans and Drakes is more important than pride.”
“Some would say that peace with the Antinium is just as important.”
Lady Magnolia spoke cautiously, watching Zel. The [General] looked up.
“If you believed that, why invite me here? No, the Antinium don’t believe in peace. And neither does the Necromancer.”
“True. That is my view as well, which is why I have been preparing ever since the Second Antinium War ended. But some do say such things. And there is a…thought that the Antinium of Liscor might be less dangerous than the rest of their kind.”
The Drake paused. He didn’t know how Magnolia had heard that, but it didn’t surprise him. He thought about Klbkch and his claws clenched into fists. But then he thought about Pawn and shook his head.
“Perhaps. I wouldn’t know. But one Hive is far from all of them.”
“Indeed. It is a thought though, and I want you to be aware of the opportunity that exists there. However, you are correct. The Grand Queen of the Antinium rules over her kind and she…bothers me. She will seize any opportunity she feels is right.”
“So will the Necromancer. I can’t believe he survived me ripping him apart.”
“Mm. Next time we’ll see about using a spell. I intend to make sure he is dead this time. But you can see why I haven’t pursued him yet.”
“Because he’s south of Liscor? A Drake problem?”
“Well, yes. Frankly, the problem is that both he and the Antinium are south of Liscor. Let’s assume the Drakes attacked one. The other would surely seize on that opportunity to force the Drakes into a war on two fronts.”
“Not a problem if we had Human help.”
“Indeed…but I am afraid that Human help might not turn up at all. Many Human [Lords] and [Ladies] would leave your people to fight alone, in the hopes of swooping in and defeating the victor. Or worse, your help might turn into a dagger in the back if Lord Tyrion were to march an army south of Liscor. He still dreams of conquering Izril, you know.”
“Wonderful. No wonder you wanted a Drake [General].”
Zel sighed. He felt old after hearing so much history. He had lived through most of it, true, but it felt like another lifetime. He was so old. He could still remember the First Antinium War. And the Second…Zel wondered if he’d live to see a third one. He didn’t want a third one, but what other choice was there?
A thought occurred to him as he pushed the book around on his table. Zel looked up at Magnolia with a frown.
“Where was your powerful magic-user ally during the Second Antinium War? Did he take part in the fighting at all? Or does he hail from another continent, like Niers Astoragon?”
Magnolia’s expression changed slightly. She pursed her lips together and looked slightly annoyed. She toyed with her teacup as she replied.
“He…excused himself from the war. The Goblins are not his enemy and he refused to battle them, much to my displeasure. He did succeed in stalling the Goblin King for a few days in the High Passes, though. I suppose that I owe him some credit for that.”
“Wonderful. So I can’t expect help against the Goblin Lord?”
“Do you need it?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. I’d like more certainty, but if I can’t have it then I’ll fight and see how it plays out.”
Zel stood up. He paced around his table, looking at the small map. So close. He’d plotted the Goblin Lord’s advance relative to his army. Magnolia Reinhart turned to face him. Her foot was jiggling just the slightest bit as she asked the question that had to be on everyone’s mind.
“How soon?”
“The day after tomorrow. Or tomorrow if he really marches his troops. He won’t, though. So it’s the day after tomorrow at some point. Day, night…I’ll force him into a day battle if I have to. I won’t let him play any tricks with the undead this time. It’ll be a straight-up battle.”
