Wrath and Storm

Gulgrip smiled as he saw his warriors die from the wizard's magic. Almost every goblin that rushed to the tower died the moment they cleared the treeline as the tower itself spat flame and lightning, blowing up most of the oncoming horde. The goblins who survived the initial line of defenses didn't last long either, these unfortunate wretches perishing as the tower's next line of defenses went active, causing the very stone to spit magic and killing those clawing at the walls and windows with lightning and poison.

He had plenty of warriors left, though he would hold back and reserve his strongest, fiercest, and most loyal warriors for the end. The ones he sent to die were fulfilling their role of depleting the wizard's magic. When the wizard had little to no magic left, that's when he and his elite and loyal warriors would sweep in, kill the man, and take what treasures he had in his home.

He saw one of the hobgoblins make it to the tower and begin bashing it open with an axe. At the same time, several goblins managed to break the magic protecting the windows and quickly scurry inside. The tower also began to slow its barrage of magic; fireballs and peals of lightning still lashed out and struck the goblins charging from the woodwork but more and more were starting to get past as less and less fire and lightning were fired.

Gulgrip smiled. "Plan's working." he said to his warriors. "Wizard is starting to run out of magic"

Suddenly, the base of the tower lit up and lightning blasted from inside.

"Looks like the wizard's finally joined the battle." One of his warriors said. Gulgrip nodded, keeping his eyes locked on the tower. He saw more goblins rush to the tower, making it to the windows and smashed door, only to fall as fire and lightning flash and kill them moments after stepping inside.

"The wizard's killing our warriors." The warrior continued, and Gulgrip saw worry line the goblin's face.

Another brilliant flash of lightning lashed out, the blinding blue bolt reaching out from inside the tower and vaporizing a half-dozen unfortunate goblins that were massing towards the smashed tower door. More goblins pressed forward, only to again end up dead as they were swept by a torrent of fire.

It was a massacre, a killing field where goblin warriors died by the dozen with every passing moment.

Eventually, the horde's numbers thinned, the number of goblins rushing to the tower trickling down to the point that those who came within spitting distance of either the door or the windows hesitated from rushing in. Small groups began to gather at these points, the goblins waiting for more to bolster their numbers still hoping this would be what would win the day and overpower the wizard.

That's when the wizard stepped out into the open. The goblin groups that saw him froze with fear and more than half lost their nerve and ran away, sprinting to the forest. Gulgrip watched the wizard carefully, noticing fatigue on the human and smiling as he saw the wizard wave his hand and instead of fire or lightning, sent three glowing orbs that shot out like comets, slaying only three of the fleeing goblins.

Gulgrip's smile widened as he saw the remaining goblins rush the wizard. Even from this distance he could tell the old man was exhausted, and very likely down to a handful of magic spells. The goblin chief dug his knees to his wolf mount, whistling the order to the rest of his elite warriors to prepare themselves to ride down from the treeline and finish the wizard off.

That's when a flash of red erupted, catching the goblins rushing the wizard.

Those caught in the red light died, Gulgrip watching the goblins freeze and then collapse as their bodies immediately decompose. He snarled as he saw the same energy feed back into the wizard, restoring the man and very likely restoring his ability to cast magic.

"Archers!" Gulgrip yelled at his warriors, half of whom stumbled over one another as they rushed to deliver the chief's command. Within moments, two dozen goblins aimed and released arrows into the sky, raining down all over the wizard.

Several missiles struck the wizard but some kind of magic knocked these arrows away. The wizard responded with a green-colored spell that moments later, he hurled into the treeline.

The giant green ghost wolf that appeared had Gulgrip cursing in anger and fear. He felt lost, unsure what to do as the ghostly creature launched itself into the trees and began tearing apart the goblin archers hiding there.

Gulgrip spat obscenities at this development. The wolf aside, the wizard had magical protection. That was the most important thing here. The chief's plan to kill the wizard involved letting his goblins tear the old human apart bit by bit. With a magic shield protecting the wizard, Gulgrip realized that he had to use his sword and fight the wizard directly.

Gulgrip barked a series of commands, ordering his elite warriors to prepare to ride. He placed his hand on the hilt of his sword and felt the sword's power flow into him, the magic in the weapon activating and making Gulgrip faster and stronger. He gripped the reins of his wolf mount and when he saw the rest of his riders finally gather, the chief dug his knees into the wolf's ribs.

The animal tensed and ran forward. Wind rushing against his face, Gulgrip and a dozen other goblins riding wolves emerged, rushing at the wizard. The goblin chief drew his sword, aiming it forward. He was feeling the rush now, the bloodlust boiling in his veins. Gulgrip's mouth opened into a snarl as the distance quickly closed between him and the wizard.

The wizard saw the riders coming. Energy crackled around his form and Gulgrip, realizing that he was about to be hit by a spell, instinctively closed his eyes. A tremendous heat washed over the goblin chief, painful and bright enough that it hurt even with his eyes tightly shut. He felt the reins in his hand disintegrate, felt the saddle and the fur of his mount fade away into nothing as Gulgrip found himself flying in the air. He slammed hard onto the ground a short moment after, the impact knocking the wind out of his lungs and as he opened his eyes, Gulgrip could only see the black night sky, stars spinning like crazy above him.

The sword in his hand pulsed, the hilt hot. As if sensing its wielder's distress, the sword fed magic into Gulgrip, the magic washing away the pain and dizziness. As his vision steadied, Gulgrip pulled himself upright and onto his feet. He saw scorched earth not too far to his left, the field littered with bits and pieces of what the chief recognized as the lightning-blasted bodily remains of his loyal warriors. He also saw the wizard standing nearby, a curious expression on his face as he stared at Gulgrip and his weapon.

"Nice sword." The wizard said before suddenly pointing both hands at the goblin chief. "Let's see if it can save you a second time." He said as he unleashed a torrent of flame at Gulgrip.

Gulgrip swung the sword forward out of instinct. The blade made this humming noise and as the flames reached his position, Gulgrip saw it crumple and flow right into his sword. The black steel glowed a dull red as it ate the wizard's spell, and shortly after the goblin chief felt energy flow from the sword and into him.

Gulgrip smiled. His sword ate magic and used it to heal him. He swung the sword a few times, marveling at its magnificence. He then sprinted, rushing with all the haste and speed he could muster towards the wizard.

"Arrogant wretch." The wizard seethed, seeing that the goblin held some kind of magic weapon. Lightning danced between the wizard's fingertips as he focused it, compressing the energy into a single brilliant blue bolt. As the goblin chief came within five feet the wizard threw the spell, sending it straight at the rushing goblin. Once again, the sword took the blast, eating the magic and keeping its wielder unharmed.

The wizard could only stare in shock as the goblin closed the distance. Gulgrip smiled and slashing upwards, the blade connecting with the wizard's arm.

The wizard's spell shield flashed but unlike before, it did not deflect the attack. Instead, the magic shattered like glass. The goblin chief's blade sank deep into the wizard's flesh, ripping a nasty cut down the human's arm. Blood spilled from the wound in great rivulets and Gulgrip, feeling victory at hand, recklessly pushed forward, dragging his blade in a ferocious slash as he aimed to gut the wizard and spill his entrails onto the swampy ground.

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Jeran realized he was in trouble.

The goblin had a magic weapon. Worse, it was a magic weapon designed to disrupt magic. Some unlucky mage hunter must have died in the swamp and this little wretch stole his weapon.

He backpedaled as the goblin chief pressed his attack. Jeran was no capable combatant, he was utterly unschooled in the physical arts of combat. Hell, he didn't have the stamina to run for more than a few minutes, and without his magic he was at the mercy of this creature.

His left arm burned, the gash the goblin a bright and painful reminder of what danger Jeran was in. He barely managed to duck away from the goblin's next attack, the blade slicing at the air just inches from cutting Jeran's stomach. His right hand dove into his robe, the wizard desperate and for the first time in a long time, deathly afraid for his life.

His fingers closed in on what he was looking for just as he narrowly avoided another attack from the goblin. Wretching his arm from his robes, Jeran pulled out a metal orb and seeing another attack directed his way, slammed the item against the goblin's blade.

As the weapon connected with the orb, a bright flash of light erupted, followed by an explosive blast of air that blew both Jeran and the goblin chief a good twenty feet backwards.

His body was sore and he must have landed on something rough because all of a sudden Jeran's left arm was flaring with pain. He couldn't dare look at the injury, Jeran instead fumbling for another item in his robe. He quickly found what he was looking for, a bottle of healing draught he had concocted. Pulling the stopper free, the wizard poured the liquid onto his left arm, wincing at the pain and at the sight of his injury, the flesh torn open, muscle shredded from the blade's jagged edge.

The pain dulled as the liquid made contact and while it wouldn't knit the torn flesh together as quickly as he'd like, the healing draught would stop the bleeding and keep it clean. Shaking, Jeran sought and quickly found his enemy. He drew a deep breath and focusing, began to gather magic around him.

"That fucking goblin." He hissed. "That one fucking goblin will know the meaning of suffering."

He thought about the circlet on his work table, 4 more souls were needed to complete the artifact. The wizard smiled, he never considered using a goblin's soul for this but this one goblin just made his list.

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Gulgrip crashed into the body of a dead hobgoblin, the bits of metal and wood it wore as armor bruising the chief as he made impact. Dazed, the goblin chief reached out and grabbed something solid on the corpse, using it to pull himself up. His spat blood and after taking a breath, found that his chest hurt. Gulgrip reeled as he felt around, pressing one hand on his side and feeling sharp pain.

"You pay for that wizard." He said in common, realizing he may have one or more ribs broken. "You die slow. Slow and painful. No more tricks will save…"

Gulgrip's words faltered as his hand went to his belt, digits closing on empty air.

His sword. His sword was missing.

"Missing something, goblin?" The wizard's voice rang out. Gulgrip frantically looked up, catching sight of the glowing orb of magic just as it made impact. The world spun as Gulgrip was sent flying backwards, the chief's mind clouded by pain from both the hit and the resulting impact as he crashed back down on the ground.

Vision spinning and chest burning with pain, Gulgrip scrambled to get back on his feet. He needed to find his weapon if there was any chance of defeating the wizard. No one else in the horde had anything even remotely capable of scratching the human, not with the magic the wizard still had ready.

A band of goblins found their courage and rushed forward to help their chief. The wizard heard their cries and rewarded their bravery with a torrent of fire, reducing the warriors to ash. Another group, survivors hiding from the ghost wolf and hidden in the trees, fired arrows at the wizard.

The wizard realized this far too late as one arrow got through and sank painfully into his shoulder. Through gritted teeth, Gulgrip saw the wizard quickly recast the spell that would protect him from the missiles. However, the damage was done, and Gulgrip, still dazed and unsteady from the pain, fervently hoped that the lucky archer who tagged the human was smart enough to poison his arrows.

More arrows fell on the wizard though this time, they bounced off his shield. Anger painted the human's features as he waved his one good arm, speaking mystic words before sending bolts of lightning to strike repeatedly at the treeline. The old trees proved no match, the barrage blasting through thick bark and blowing dirt, stone, and the unfortunate goblins hiding there to fiery bits.

Gulgrip used this distraction to flee.

Staying low, fighting the urge to vomit, the goblin chief scampered into the tall grass. His eyes darted left and right looking for his magic sword. He cursed himself for not preparing for this situation, fucking thing was black from blade to hilt; it'd be hard to spot even with his ability to see in the dark.

"Where are you, you little wretch?!" He heard the wizard cry out. Bolts of magic lightning flashed above him, striking somewhere to his right. "Hide all you want, I promise you that sooner or later, I will catch you. You'll wish you were dead when I do!"

Gulgrip hissed. His imagination threw all sorts of frightening thoughts, things he thought the wizard might and could do to him.

He cursed in goblin. He pulled his dagger free from its sheath. The weapon wasn't magical but Gulgrip thought he'd rather go on his own terms than let the wizard toy with him like a hunting cat toys with its prey.

"You won't catch Gulgrip, human..." the goblin chief said as he slid further and deeper into the grass, backing quietly until he reached the swampwater. "Gulgrip will come back. Gulgrip swears revenge and Gulgrip promises you will die by his blade."

Sinking into the swampwater, Gulgrip fled the tower.

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T'rrk emerged from the tower to find a battlefield littered with dead goblins.

Out of the hundred strong warriors assembled, T'rrk could barely see more than a few handfuls scattered. Some were paralyzed with fear, hiding in the trees, behind large rocks or under the tall grass. More were fleeing, and T'rrk saw from the distance a huge glowing wolf running amok, tearing apart what goblins it caught.

He saw the wizard, saw the chief and his wolf riders charge the human only for most to die as the wizard unleash his magic. He saw the chief survive, his blade eating the fire and lightning the wizard threw and T'rrk whooped as he saw the chief land a blow, his sword cutting a gash on the wizard's arm.

Then the wizard did some kind of magic that filled the sky with light, blinding T'rrk. When his vision returned, T'rrk saw the chief flung away, hurt. He then saw the wizard shoot the chief again with magic, sending the chief flying backwards some more and crash into some rocks. The wizard then destroyed what was left of the goblin force, his hands glowing with magic as he made his way to where Gulgrip lay prone.

That's when T'rrk saw it, the chief's weapon, the blade half sunk into the dirt not two feet away from where the goblin hunter stood. It was glowing like it was angry, the metal smoking and spider web-like cracks across the blade glowing a deep red.

It called out to T'rrk, telling him to take it by the hilt and charge at the hated enemy.

He turned again to where the wizard was, watching as the human continued to cast his magic and tear at the battlefield with fire and lightning. Goblins died every time something shot out from the wizard's hands.

The blade seemed to hum, a deep, angry tone that caught T'rrk's attention. It called out, demanding to be picked up, demanding to be used. Demanding it shed the blood of its enemies.

T'rrk wanted to flee, to run to the swamp. There are others for sure who already ran, he could meet up with them and together, make their way back to the lair. He didn't want to pick up the sword, but somehow, without him realizing it, he already did.

The weapon felt hot in his hand and that heat spread all the way up to his arm and into his head. New thoughts suddenly flooded T'rrk's simple goblin mind: the wizard had magic. He might use the magic to find out where the clan lair was. If the wizard knows where the lair is, then it wouldn't be safe to run back there.

It wouldn't be safe anywhere. The wizard might have magic to find all of the goblins and kill them no matter how far or deep in the swamp they went to hide.

The thoughts made T'rrk afraid, but more than that it also made him angry. He didn't want this, he didn't want to die. All he wanted was to live in the cave and eat fish and spiders and mushrooms.

The wizard was responsible. He wanted to take all of that away from T'rrk. If the wizard killed the chief like he did to all of the other goblin warriors, then the wizard would come and kill T'rrk and everyone else in the clan too.

T'rrk couldn't allow that. Not after all this and definitely not after he just got some shiny treasures. He didn't even get to really enjoy them yet!

His hands closed around the hilt of the goblin chief's weapon, pulling it free from the dirt. With all of his might, all of his speed, T'rrk rushed towards the wizard, an alien anger burning in his heart.

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Jeran walked carefully into the tall grass. The goblin who had the magic sword was somewhere nearby.

Several wretches, leftovers from the depleted horde, screamed in the distance. He no longer bothered with these goblins, as at this point any survivors simply fled, too afraid to try and attack him. What few that did fight were the ones being chased by the spectral hunter, who at the corner of his vision Jeran saw was driving deeper and deeper into the swamp.

"Where are you, little wretch?" he said aloud as he walked further. "This is getting tiresome. Aren't you a warrior? Isn't hiding from a fight beneath you?" He taunted.

No response, though Jeran didn't truly expect one. Goblins were cowardly creatures, and even those who became good at fighting, the ones who managed to steal bits of weapons and armor from bigger and smarter races, could really only hold shreds of courage that didn't last the moment things took a turn against them

He considered setting this part of the swamp on fire, to try and smoke out the goblin he sought. He was mentally checking his reserves of magic when he felt it.

It was an aura of power, an aura of magic. And it was rushing straight for him.

He turned in time to see a goblin, a cracked, glowing blade of black iron held in its hands. Its aura however, cast a hue of power that Jeran could see even without the spell that allowed him to see into the astral plane. He grit his teeth as he realized what it was.

The fucking goblin had his artifact. The goblin had the circlet and the soul gems!

"You wretched, disgusting thief!!!" Jeran roared as he unleashed his magic. His fury painted his features like a storm, and like a storm lightning pouring out of his hands arcing straight at the rushing creature.

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T'rrk saw the wizard, saw his hands burn bright and blind him. He should have been afraid but he didn't feel that. He felt angry, so angry that he thought his heart was going to pop.

He felt the sword move his arms, felt it connect against something that exploded and caused the metal to get very hot. He yelled, though whether that was from pain or anger he wasn't sure.

T'rrk wasn't feeling like himself. A small part of him wondered if it was because of the sword. He wondered if the sword did the same thing to the chief.

He kept swinging the sword in front of him, T'rrk hoping he'd run straight into the wizard and that the sword would cut the human down. The weapon burned in his hands and somehow, that sensation fed him with confidence, wordless thoughts filling his head that death for the wizard was at hand.

He connected with something the sword sank into. Still blind, T'rrk tried to pull the weapon back only to find it stuck fast. He felt terror push his anger back, T'rrk immediately thinking the wizard had another trick that trapped the sword.

He wasn't wrong. As his vision returned, T'rrk saw that he had swung the sword into the corpse of a goblin, the blade getting caught in the corpse's ribs. He was able to tug at the weapon once before he saw the wizard from the corner of his eye, too late to do anything as the wizard's hand burned bright with magic and unleashed a spell at him.

T'rrk felt the magic impact, electricity smashing into his side and burning his flesh, frying his nerves. The goblin couldn't think as pain overwhelmed all of his senses, his vision and hearing drowned out by the lightning as it burned away at his skin and muscles and boiled his blood. The goblin spasmed as he was flung away, the chief's sword shattering as lightning too poured into it, sending fragments flying everywhere.

T'rrk's last thought before blacking out was that he wished he were back in the cave, eating fish and spiders and mushrooms.

As the goblin, now just a smoking corpse, struck the ground, the satchel on T'rrk's side smashed against a jagged jutting rock. The bottles inside shattered, and as the electricity from the spell found its way to the circlet, the runes carved all over it absorbed the magic and began to glow.

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A whirlwind of energy engulfed Jeran and the goblin he just killed. The wizard didn't understand why or what was causing it.

He saw his lightning strike the filthy creature, saw it fry the pathetic thing from head to toe. Jeran even felt a little satisfied as he saw the enchanted sword the little fucker had shatter; apparently the weapon had a limit as to how much magic it could negate.

That's when he realized what happened.

His spell had activated the circlet.

The energy spun the air around the wizard violently, his magical shields flaring as bits of dirt and stone were picked up and flung against him. Jeran shielded his eyes as a pillar of light erupted from the goblin's corpse, lifting up the body as magic began to course through it.

His circlet was a doorway, designed to act as a battery to power Jeran when he completed its safeguards. This doorway was linked to a realm of pure, magical energy, and because of how overwhelming this raw energy could be Jeran placed souls in the artifact. These were meant to take the brunt of the artifact's effects, meant to protect the wizard's body, mind, and soul when he at last used it.

He felt seven were needed to ensure that the magical energies wouldn't overwhelm him. He only had three in place this morning.

"Shit." He said. Before he could think of doing anything else, the pillar of light exploded.

The energy unleashed seared everything in a brilliant radiance that briefly turned night into day. The bodies of the dead were vaporized, while Jeran's tower was torn apart by the blast, the stone and wood sent flying and raining all over the swamp.

Of the wizard, there was nothing left, the light utterly vaporizing his body. Not even ash remained.

When the light faded and darkness was returned to the night, the wizard's tower was nothing but a ruin sitting in a swampy field half-littered with craters.

Lying down alone, concealed by tall grass unharmed by the light, was T'rrk's corpse. It lay still there for a moment before the goblin's body convulsed, spasming as it began to breathe again.