Chapter 1. Faking Confidence
1193 Words
The little old Lady waddled up to the soldier and said,
“Are you sure you want to do this!
“No.” the soldier replied
“No, I do not want to do this.”
The Old Lady and The Soldier were in a field of a valley looking at a mountainside.
Next to the soldier was a signal fire.
If he lit the fire a blue smoke would rise up.
If the blue smoke rose up then certain explosives would then be set off, closing the entrance to a cave up the mountain.
If the cave mouth collapse then a friend of his would-be entombed alive up there.
The Soldier was called Mal Wear and he was surrounded by the bodies and littered remnants of four large enemy armies that had fled the area recently.
But those armies had not fled from Mal Wears tiny force, of a few hundred.
They had fled from a single mighty beast that had charged from the cave and effortlessly killed so many of them.
That beast had once been Mal Wears friend.
Now he had to decide to bury that friend alive.
He looked around once more at the devastation of the one single demon tainted creature.
With deep sadness, he lit the fire.
The blue smoke arose.
The explosion sealed the main entrance of the cave and the two of the largest back passages that lead to goblin tunnels.
The smallest back tunnel was too small for the beast, former friend, to fit through.
Some would remain to supply food and water to the beast unit they could hopefully find a cure.
Mal Wear turned and nodded to a Dark Elf on a white horse.
She nodded back and galloped off towards her people's lands.
She will not be welcomed there.
They were all hoping that she could find a cure there for their altered friend.
Mal Wear turned to his other side and nodded to the old lady as she mounted a small pack poney and rode away.
The old lady, called Granny Phug, did not nod back.
Mal Wear then turned around to look behind him, and again he nodded.
Elderly, children, and a handful of women mostly human but also some goblins, gave a sad wave back as they headed to try and find some kind of safety.
One young dark-haired woman had extra sorrow in her eyes.
Mal Wear and his love Arach Nid had hoped to marry before parting.
But now there was no time left.
They were not telling Mal Wear or any of his other forces where they were going.
They probably did not know themselves yet.
Mal then looked at the distance at the tents of his laughably small army.
There were about three hundred fighters there.
One hundred normal fighters that used to be mere villages, most of them still very green with inexperience.
One hundred skirmishing mountain bandits.
And lastly, one hundred assotted goblins led by their chief Gobbycite.
Mal wear had only been trained as far as being a Sunite Imperial Captain,
Now instead, he was a rebel general.
What were they rebelling against?
They were rebelling against no less, than the end of the world by demons.
Two huge vast empires, the Satites and the Sunites had been infiltrated by demonic forces.
Now the two empires were slowly being manipulated towards a war that would end the world.
Mal looked at the camp again and started to walk towards it.
Three hundred rebels against two vast empires!
How the hell was this supposed to be at all possible?
As he walked he reminded himself of that old saying,
“A journey of a thousand miles starts with a single step.”
Or the other saying,
“A series of books starts with a single alphabet letter.”
As small as his force was, at least it was a start.
Everything has to start small somewhere, no matter no large the self-appointed task may at first seem.
Mal Wear supposed that one of the first things he had to do was break up the camp and march.
It would be while they were breaking camp that he would meet Gobbycite the goblin chief and former bandit Burg-Andy Rouge and try and decide which direction to march in.
For now, as he walked, Mal wear had no idea where to go next, yet!
“How the Wipe did he get here?” he asked himself.
(This land had a rather strange swearing style!)
“I used to love the Sunite Empire!”
“Why am I a rebel now?”
“Because your own men were ordered killed by you commander and an entire innocent village of your own side was slaughtered by him, under the highest Sunite orders!” Mal Wear reminded himself.
“Then you rebelled by choosing to help some of those villages escape the m******e,”
“After that, things just kind of snowballed out of control”
“Now I am a so-called general of the smallest so-called army ever!”
“What the Flush can I do now?”
(Again, This land had a rather strange swearing style! Based on how toilets worked!)
“Everyone is assuming you have all the answers!” Mal kept talking to himself,
“And I don’t!!”
A young man ran over to him as he reached the camp.
“Sir!” the young man saluted.
“Reporting the battlefield dully looted for supplies sir” the young man reported.
“Break up the camp” Ordered Mal Wear confidently!
“We march in less than three hours!” Mal Wear Barked at all around him!
With yet more soundless nodding to each other, Gobbycite the goblin chief, former bandit Burg-Andy Rouge and a trusted badit acting as goblin translator walked to the side of the camp out of earshot.
The former bandit, ‘goblin language’ translator was sworn to secrecy.
But no translating was needed at first.
As all three leaders looked blankly at each other and just shrugged for the first ten minutes.
Finally, Mal wear broke the silence first,
“Oh! Come On! We have to go somewhere!”
The bandit translator tried in broken goblin to repeat the statement to Gobbycite.
Mal wear continued to speak,
“We can no go stay here, and all points of the compass seem far too dangerous?”
“We need an idea!”
“Now!”
There was a pause,
Gobbycite spoke, moving his finger in all directions and then pointed at the floor.
The translator repeated.
“If we can not go North, East, South, or West, then why not Down?”
“There are vast kingdoms and lands down there that you surface dwellers do know!
“Where there is no Satite or Sunite Kingdoms!”
“It is dangerous for you humans but less dangerous than all your other options!”
Burg-Andy Rouge and Mal Wear shrugged again at each other,
“Fair enough,” Mal Wear said,
“Why the hell not?” Said Burg-Andy Rouge
“Let us travel down then!” Stated Mal Wear,
- Writer
