The air reeked of blood and burning flesh as Reed crested the final ridge overlooking Goblin's Hollow. What had once been a hidden sanctuary now stood exposed like a festering wound against the mountainside, besieged from all sides by armies bearing the colors of six different lords. Smoke billowed from structures Reed had personally helped build mere weeks ago, and the desperate screams of the dying carried on the wind.
"Gods' mercy," Kalia whispered beside him, her knuckles white around the grip of her sword. "They've brought everything."
Indeed they had. Siege towers loomed against the eastern wall, while battering rams hammered relentlessly at the northern gate. Arcs of magical fire rained down from the coalition's battle-mages, countered sporadically by the primitive but effective shamanic defenses Reed had helped establish. Three separate armies had established camps around the perimeter, methodically strangling the settlement.
