Adrenaline, a now-familiar system diagnostic, surged through William. Stress levels: Elevated. Heart rate: 145 bpm. Combat readiness: Hardware upgrades installed (Enchanted Sword/Armor +2), practical application untested. He tightened his grip on the reins, the solid feel of his new sword’s hilt a meagre counterpoint to the chaos unfolding ahead.
Even amidst the rising tension that threatened to overwhelm William’s analytical detachment, Sir Roland projected controlled urgency. His face was a mask carved from granite, grimly assessing the disaster, but his commands were sharp, decisive. He signalled a halt on the last rise overlooking the valley, granting them a sickening panorama. Sharwood wasn't just smoking, parts of it were engulfed in writhing orange flame.
“This complicates the mission,” Roland stated, his voice tight but perfectly steady, eyes scanning the inferno. “Charging in blind is tactical suicide. Jett!”
The scout needed no further instruction. He swung off his horse and vanished into the tall, dry grass bordering the road with unnatural speed and silence, a wisp of smoke himself. Asset deployed: Jett (Reconnaissance). Objective: Ground truth assessment, threat identification.
While Jett performed physical recon, William tasked his own unique sensor suite. Okay, EMMA. Initiate detailed analysis: Atmospheric Particulate Scan, Thermal Plume Trajectory Modelling. Correlate with wind vectors, estimate source locations, combustion duration.
A faint overlay shimmered into existence, painting data onto the horrific scene. Pale blue arrows depicted the shifting wind. The smoke column became a churning 3D heat map, angry reds and oranges marking the core fires, yellows and greens showing the dispersal cloud. EMMA cross-referenced thermal signatures with William's memory of the town's general layout.
Data Stream Analysis Complete. Key Findings:
- Smoke Plume Density: Increasing trend T-15 min.
- Thermal Signatures: Multiple distinct ignition points detected. Concentration: Eastern perimeter (Warehouses, Granaries). Intensity: High, sustained combustion.
- Hypothesis 1: Accidental Fire. Probability: Low (<5%). Multiple simultaneous sources statistically improbable. Containment efforts: None detected / Ineffective.
- Hypothesis 2: Deliberate Arson / Active Hostile Engagement. Probability: High (>95%). Ignition pattern consistent with raiding tactics (Resource Denial/Chaos). Lack of containment suggests defenders engaged/overwhelmed.
- Conclusion: Active conflict highly probable. Threat type: Likely raiding party (Thermal signature inconsistent with siege engines). Scale: Indeterminate.
William relayed the findings, translating the EMMA output into clipped, factual statements, mimicking the detached tone of an after-action report even as his stomach churned. “Multiple fires, Sir Roland, concentrated near eastern storage facilities. Output suggests sustained and growing combustion, no effective containment. Accidental cause unlikely. High probability of an active raid.” Delivery style: Trying for 'calm analyst', likely landing closer to 'barely contained panic'.
Roland listened intently, his gaze flicking between the smoke and William. A flicker of something – surprise? grudging acceptance?, crossed his stern features. “Your observations improve, William. Fits a goblin raiding profile.” He didn't ask how William deduced this from smoke alone. Pragmatism won again. “But likelihood isn’t certainty. A coordinated feint? Dark Legion regulars testing defences? We wait for Jett.”
The wait was agonizing, each second stretching thin. The roar and crackle of flames intensified, carrying clearly now the high-pitched, guttural shrieks of goblins and the desperate shouts of human defenders. Julia shifted beside William, her fingers subtly tracing unseen patterns in the air near her thigh, knuckles white where her other hand gripped the saddle. Caspian looked physically ill, clutching the amulet at his neck, eyes wide with horror, murmuring historical precedents for goblin atrocities under his breath. Subject: Caspian. Stress response: Acute. Coping mechanism: Historical data recall.
Just as William felt his own control starting to fray, Jett reappeared as silently as he’d vanished, materializing from the shadows like a bad omen. His face was grim confirmation.
“Goblins,” he reported, voice low and clipped, wasting no words. “Maybe eight, ten still active. Standard raiding gear, crude axes, scimitars, lots of torches. Focused on the warehouses, spreading fire like it’s festival night. Militia’s pinned, trying to fight both goblins and fires. They’re losing ground.”
Roland’s decision was instantaneous. “Right. We will need to engage and assist, as intervention is required. Our tactics will be Jett, Julia, ranged suppression. Prioritize targets actively spreading fire or engaging militia. Neutralize from cover as we advance.” He pointed down the slope towards the sounds of the main skirmish. “William, with me. Mounted charge, break goblin formations, direct militia support. Caspian, maintain distance, fifty paces behind us. Rely on your defensive enchantments. Do not engage directly.”
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The orders snapped the team into action. Jett melted back towards the tree line, nocking an arrow. Julia took a deep, centring breath, sparks already dancing around her hands as she gathered mana. Roland drew his own longsword, the bare steel gleaming ominously in the firelight. “With me, William! For Aver and the King!” He dug his heels in, his warhorse surging down the slope towards the burning town.
William drew his own enchanted blade, the runes near the hilt pulsing faintly in response to his grip. His heart hammered a frantic rhythm against his ribs. Okay, hardware. Let's see your first real stress test. He spurred his horse, struggling initially to keep pace with Roland’s powerful charge, the world narrowing to the hellish scene ahead. Burning buildings casting flickering, dancing shadows. Small, hunched figures darting through smoke. The distinct, high-pitched yelps of goblins clashing with human cries. EMMA: Target acquisition mode engaged. Highlight potential threats.
They crashed into the edge of the main skirmish like a thunderbolt. A cluster of exhausted militiamen desperately held a collapsing line against three snarling goblins near a blazing storehouse. Other townsfolk frantically passed buckets, their efforts pitiful against the raging inferno. THWIP! THWIP! Jett’s arrows flew true from his bow, two goblins staggering back with shafts suddenly sprouting from shoulders. Simultaneously, a bolt of crackling blue force, Julia’s magic missile, slammed into the third, sending it tumbling end over end with a surprised shriek. Ranged support: Effective. Immediate threat cluster neutralized.
Roland, without slowing, veered towards two more goblins further down the street who were gleefully smashing shop windows. His sword became a flashing silver arc of precise destruction. William spotted another goblin, momentarily isolated, using a crude crowbar to pry at the door of an intact building, looting amidst the chaos. It hadn’t seen their devastating arrival. Target of opportunity identified.
This was it. First practical application of offensive magic. No trial, no safety protocols. He focused, pushing down the rising bile, recalling the simple structure Julia and Caspian had taught him. Force. Direction. Impact. The basic 'Force Dart'. He pulled mana – MP: 96/106 – whispered the incantation, shoved the energy forward.
A barely visible shimmer, like heat haze, shot from his outstretched hand. It struck the goblin squarely in the back. Impact confirmed. The creature yelped, dropping the crowbar and stumbling forward, more surprised and winded than seriously injured. Spell Effectiveness: Low-Moderate (Stun/Distraction only). Recommend kinetic follow-up.
No time for detailed analysis. William urged his horse forward, the enchanted longsword feeling extension of his will. The goblin spun, snarling, raising a rusty axe. William didn't think, didn't hesitate, just reacted, channelling Edward’s drills. Control. Exploit opening. Commit. He guided his horse alongside the creature and thrust downward. The +2 blade, impossibly sharp, bit deep. There was a horrible wet, tearing sound, resistance, then release. The goblin collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut.
William wrenched his sword free, nausea surging, hot and acidic. He swallowed it down, forcing air into his lungs. Threat neutralized. First kill confirmed. Emotional response… logged for later processing. He scanned for new threats.
The intervention was swift, brutal, decisive. Roland dispatched his targets with terrifying efficiency. Jett and Julia continued their ranged harassment, dropping the last few goblins caught in the open before they could rally or escape. Faced with this sudden, coordinated storm of steel and magic, the remaining goblins broke, scattering into the smoky alleys like vermin.
An abrupt silence fell, heavy and profound, broken only by the hungry roar of the fires and the ragged, coughing gasps of the surviving militia. Then, cheers erupted, weak at first, then building, a wave of exhausted relief washing over the grimy faces of Sharwood's defenders.
The fight against the goblins was over; the fight against the fire began in earnest. “Water! Bucket lines! Save the cooperage!” shouts echoed through the smoke.
A figure stumbled out from near the largest blaze, helmetless, armour scorched and battered, hacking smoke from his lungs. Captain Oswald. He wiped soot from his face with a mailed fist, his eyes landing on Julia and William amongst the armoured knight and watchful scout. Recognition dawned, followed by sheer, unadulterated relief.
“Julia! William!” His voice was rough, hoarse from smoke and shouting. He took in Roland’s imposing figure, Jett’s ready bow, Caspian’s slightly wide-eyed presence hovering safely back. “Whoever your friends are, thank the gods! You arrived in the very nick of time! We were about done for!”
Quick, smoke-choked introductions were made. Names exchanged over the roar of flames, the shared danger forging an instant, grim camaraderie.
Roland, however, cut through the relief, his gaze fixed on the burning town, then turning sharply to Oswald. “Captain,” his voice was steel, demanding clarity amidst the chaos. “Explain this. Intelligence placed the Goblin King besieging Oakenfall, deep in Tallenwood. Why are his forces raiding Sharwood, miles away? This action serves no apparent strategic purpose… unless…” He let the implication hang, heavy and ominous as the smoke itself. Unless Oakenfall isn't the only target.
William Shard - Character Sheet
- Level: 2
- XP: 1000 / 2000 (+800 from goblin kill)
- Titles:
- Novice Magic Analyst - Effect: +5% Mana Regeneration Rate
- Light Weaponized - Effect: +10% effectiveness to Light spells
- Class: Magic Analyst
Stats:
- Strength: 15
- Agility: 18
- Magical Power: 20
- Vitality: 15
- HP: 150
- Mana: 106
- Unallocated Stat Points: 3
Skills:
- Swordsmanship: Basic
- Magic (Conventional): Basic
- EMMA System: Basic
- Language (Averian Common): Basic
- Healing / Regeneration: ??? (Unknown - Nature Undefined)
Equipment:
- Longsword +2
- Wyvern Light Armour +2