Even though the forests were teeming with scouts from both sides, there weren’t any defined front lines. At least now how Varre’s modern mind understood the term. There were areas of loose control, where the vast majority of troops were either human or goblin, but there were huge undefined areas in between. Teams of riders and footmen passed through them, moving by the ever dwindling population of civilians.
On top of that, brave or foolhardy spotters snuck deep into enemy controlled territory and tried to gather information about their movements. Though the invaders were a little more likely to try this. Few on Varre’s side dared to try such risky maneuvers.
Light cavalry was quick, but it was too loud and noticeable to use stealth and get into the midst of the goblins. Elves preferred to go on foot, so they were theoretically better, but the task was simply too dangerous. Many of them were already forced to flee their homes once. They’d seen the terror of the war first hand. No one could ask this much of them.
As Varre’s army advanced, so did the goblins. Both areas of operation came closer together, and the scouts in no man’s land clashed in small groups, like arcing sparks of two electrified cables brought together. There were casualties, but no great destruction. Yet.
Eventually, as the region got explored, the scouts reported seeing an unexpected sight. There was a small stream up ahead and the main force was expected to reach it on the fourth day since leaving Amesbury. Such places were common in these parts. The water was narrow and shallow enough that it could be passed by both people and horses, though it required some preparation to do safely.
The real problem were the wagons. Fortunately, with this many people, creating a simple bridge didn’t take a lot of time. Some of the carts carried wooden planks and iron nails already for this exact purpose.
However, the path ahead appeared to be guarded. The enemy dispatched a horde of armed goblins, as if to try and block passage.
Some of Varre’s riders were already operating on the other side of the stream, closer to the heart of enemy territory, so they weren’t really cut off. They could simply go around and cross at another place. These goblins were clearly intended to stand against the main army, not the scouts.
“How many are there?” the king asked, looking at the map from the back of his horse.
“Around two thousand, your majesty,” Count Gregory explained, “I’ve sent some more men to investigate it further, but it seems like the enemy brought some of their own cavalry to support the infantry as well.”
“Those wolf riders?”
“Yes. But there’s not as many of them,” noted the leader of the scouts, “several dozen, maybe as much as a hundred. The riders didn’t dare to stay for too long. A force like this would destroy them.”
Varre looked around at the multitudes of men surrounding him. Even though his forces were split in three sections, the center alone consisted of over ten thousand. “They might beat the scouts, but that’s nowhere near enough to face the main army. Do they plan to try and stop us?”
“It seems to be the case, your majesty,” Gregory said, “they must know we are coming. If they were worried, they’d flee. It seems like they’re hunkering down.”
“Good. Then tomorrow, we prepare for battle.”
When the army stopped for the night, a tense atmosphere spread throughout the camp. Though there was plenty of both fighting and casualties in the forest for days already, the regular troops stayed out of it. This would be their first opportunity to see some real blood. Their first test in combat.
Of course the soldiers were told that victory was all but assured. The goblin force was tiny, almost inconsequential in comparison. This information spread quickly, even if the average trooper didn’t need to know such details. Still, the mere mention of meeting the enemy was enough to strike fear into the hearts of men, so the commanders quietly whispered the facts to their sergeants.
The following morning, the soldiers changed up their formation. They were mere hours away from their enemy. If they attempted to march in columns, they could be ambushed.
Instead, they flattened their forces, splitting up from a single, four rank file into several groups, dozens of men deep. Marching was far slower this way, as individual units had to slow down to get around trees and obstacles, but competent officers could maintain reasonable cohesion. Even if one column ended up a couple hundred feet ahead of the others, this was something that could be fixed in minutes, instead of hours.
As they walked, scouts continued to bring in fresh reports. The enemy had spotted the humans and was preparing for battle. Clearly they had every intention of fighting, despite the impossible odds. This was highly unusual and only worried Varre further.
By noon, the king arrived at the field and could examine the situation with his own eyes.
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The goblins set up on the others side of the stream. They cleared some of the bushes and even chopped down the trees, giving themselves more space to work with.
This was the first opportunity the king had to witness these creatures in person. They were short, thin, and gangly humanoids, with green colored skin. There was quite a bit of variation between each one, as they ranged from yellowish and olive colors all the way to the deep green of the surrounding leaves. If it wasn’t for the weapons and fur clothes, they’d be hard to spot through the foliage.
Compared to humans, the goblins had oversized heads and even larger ears. They didn’t look that threatening from a distance, but Varre understood that the real danger were their numbers and relentless brutality. Armed with a sword and dressed in armor, he could easily dispatch one of them. Probably even several. But could he take a dozen? A hundred? And what if he had to go without his enhanced stats, or high quality weapons, like the regular levies or civilians. Could he beat them armed with a pitchfork alone? He wasn’t sure.
The enemies grouped up into a tight square formation. Each one carried a large shield, though for now, they leaned them against the ground. There was no need to tire themselves out yet. Varre was certain that as soon as his army moved on the offensive, they’d quickly form up an effective block that would be difficult to assault from any direction.
The stream was another issue. The troops would need to cross carefully as the water reached all the way to their belts, if not higher. That would slow them down significantly and leave them at the mercy of whatever the goblins had prepared.
Off in the distance, the king could see the wolf riders he was warned about. The animals stood still, eyeing the humans and snarling occasionally. The numbers didn’t seem that impressive, but the beasts were still dangerous. They could charge forward and rip people apart as they clambered out of the water. They wouldn’t win, but they’d cause casualties.
As the soldiers slowly lined up for battle, Varre met with his commanders in order to discuss the battle plan.
“Are you sure this is all that your scouts have found? No other forces?” The king asked, eyeing the square formation from a safe distance.
“This is it your majesty,” Gregory carefully replied, “but they had to keep their distance. There was no point in throwing their lives away trying to get closer.”
“I don’t like this,” Varre sighed, “I just don’t understand what they could be planning.”
“Perhaps they’re desperate, your majesty,” the count shrugged, “they know they don’t stand a chance against the might of our armies, so they’ve decided to go out in a last stand. I’d call it heroic, but…” he petered off, “anyway, their position is advantageous. They plan to take as many of our men down as they can.”
“I don’t buy it,” the king shook his head, “they’ve been fighting the Elves with thousands of troops. If they decided to invade us next, they must have prepared tens, if not hundreds of thousands more for this operation. They must have more soldiers available in the rear.”
“I agree,” Jan said, “they knew we were coming. They had enough time to retreat. These goblins have been sent here to die.”
“Maybe it’s a punishment,” Gregory suggested, “they were sent on a suicide mission ahead of their forces for their failures, or something. Maybe they want to slow us down, or simply kill more than they lose.”
“I think it’s some kind of trap,” Varre countered, “the bait is just too obvious. We have the numbers to easily destroy them.”
“Charging across the river is no good,” the duke said, “the horses would get tired and split up. And there’s not enough room to gain speed for a proper charge. We wouldn’t be able to hit them at full force.”
“We could go around,” the count pointed out, “cross a few hundred feet to the side and then circle back. It wouldn’t be as effective since our men would have to scramble through the thick woods, but it would be safer. And with our numbers we could easily rout them.”
“I think that’s what they want,” the king said, peering into the dense foliage on the other side of the stream, “they could have plenty of soldiers hiding there, biding their time. Or they could have dug pitfalls.”
Jan nodded. “We’d be risking all of our heavy cavalry, just to dispatch this tiny force. Any losses we take here would be irreplaceable. It’s better to send in the infantry. They can take their time, surround the enemy and slowly tighten the noose as they fight one by one.”
“What happens if we send the infantry and then goblin reinforcements come out from the rear?” Varre asked, “I still don’t like it. We have absolutely no idea what they’re trying to accomplish here. I just can’t see the reasoning.”
“We could play it safe, your majesty,” Elvira spoke up, “we could dispatch them from a distance. With magic.”
The king looked up at her. “With those explosive spells of yours?”
“Yes. You could bring out archers, but against those huge shields, they’d be ineffective. We’d have to shoot for hours,” the Court Mage smiled, “but sorcery could shred through them in minutes.”
“What about your aura?” Varre pointed out.
“I think we have enough for a couple of spells, your majesty,” Elvira chuckled, “besides, it would be good training for the commoner recruits. They never had the chance to go all out against real enemies before.”
“I like the sound of that, but should we be exhausting our wizard core against such a small force?” Jan raised an eyebrow.
“Against a tightly grouped formation of shielded infantry?” the Court Mage asked rhetorically, “yes. There’s no better target. Even if this all turns out to be a ruse and the real army pops out from the forest as soon as we start, I’d still recommend shooting this square first. It’s just efficient.”
“If it’s this easy, then why have the goblins put themselves in such a position in the first place?” Varre raised his hands in the air, “they’re sitting ducks out there!”
“Sofia told me that her people do not use as many combat wizards as we do,” Elvira theorized, “perhaps the enemy hasn’t considered this possibility. We can safely wipe them out from a distance, at no cost to our forces.”
The king sighed. “I suppose it is the best way to avoid any casualties. Go ahead. But I want all of the soldiers at the ready. I know the goblins are planning something… I just don’t know what.”
“If it turns out you’re right and they do have a second army hiding between the trees, then we’ll still have the advantage,” Jan pointed out, “they’ll have to come to us. We can wait for as long as we need.”
With the plan agreed, the army began to move. The soldiers approached the stream, while still staying outside the range of projectiles, just in case anything happened. Knights checked their equipment and mounted up, while the infantry got into defensive formations and stretched their limbs.
Elvira meanwhile gathered all of the wizards together and informed them of the plan. The first real battle of the war was about to begin.
This is nothing like Elstercross, where Varre had to cross a bridge to face Clement's rebels. Here, the water can be crossed just about anywhere.

