Zombie Goblins and Whistling Bees

-Bwooooooom-

The deep basso sound reverberated through the valley, shaking the fighting spirit of everyone who heard it.

It took a while, but eventually, the horn died down.

Everyone stood up. They knew what was coming. They had prepared themselves. Or so they thought.

Terem and 500 other people turned to face westward. Morale was low, but everyone knew that a fight was unavoidable. If they didn't stop the invading force here, the wall-less city would only be ransacked while the army marched on, unhindered by traps and battles.

Slowly, small dark dots lined the fringes of the fog. Terem couldn't properly gauge their height due to the distance, but he assumed that each entity was about the same height as an average human male, if not a head shorter. They also were atrociously hunched over to the point of needing three limbs to run or gallop as Terem saw it.

However, their numbers were unprecedented. The soldier's already low spirit dropped further still. The patchwork splotches of darkness popping through the hazy shield didn't end. They lined the canyon from the far wall to the edge of the great Merilin Lake.

From the midst of the army, a voice soared overhead. It made itself heard by every man and woman present. Before long, a man with a white scraggly beard stepped forth, presenting himself where all could see him.

"Brave men and women of Merilin!" Of course, it was Tom who spoke. His voice sailed across the glum gathering, offering a singular breath of fresh air to everyone present. It was an angelic manly shout that riled the blood and brought light upon the darkening land.

They all turned towards the lone man who stood with his back placed firmly against the horde of oncoming shadows. Tom took a deep breath once he was sure that everyone's attention was planted upon him.

"Now, I know what you all are thinking, and I am not going to hide the truth! Most of us will be dead men within the week." A pause ensued, allowing the blunt statement to sink in. Tom surveyed everyone's expressions before continuing with his speech.

"But that doesn't mean we have to feel sorry about ourselves. In fact, we should be doing the opposite! You valiant soldiers are all gathered here today for one purpose. You knew that heading west to this very spot would only dig your grave, but you still steeled your resolve and came here anyways. And even if you didn't know, your purposes no doubt remain the same as every other man and woman present. You are all gathered here to protect. That I know is a fact. You came here to protect. Whether it be your families, your town, your fellow citizens... Hell, even your honor will do. But, the point remains that we stand strong together to be the wall that surrounds our city!"

As the speech reaches another pause, Terem looks around at the people surrounding him. Slowly, the words and meaning sink in, but everyone is quiet. Then the people begin to react. Their brows gently crease as they set their resolve and a gentle spark ignites into an inferno of passion within each person's eyes. Tom, seeing this new light and sensing the change in mood, speaks again before the crowd can roar.

"Protectors of Merilin. I'm not one for long speeches, and this one has dragged on long enough, so I want to leave you with a few words. We will fight. And we will win. For our friends, families, and homes!" Tom hoists his silver sword high above his head, reflecting what light remains from the setting sun.

Soldiers and adventurers alike roar their approval, many even bashing their weapons upon shields, helmets, or anything else they could find to make a racket.

Standing beside Terem, Vanessa is screeching like a mother who just lost her first-born child; just a lot happier sounding. Maybe a six-year-old girl who had just won the large stuffed animal prize at the fair, but that would be closer to a squeal.

Terem, however, did not utter a sound. Instead, he was trying to think. Albeit, this proved to be a monumental task when a teenage banshee takes residence less than two feet away.

Still, he tried to find out what the Orc Lord was going to do and how he could survive with his life.

The horde only marched closer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

500 warriors formed up ranks in front of the incoming goblin horde. The small cretins approached in an unorganized gallop as their hunched backs forced them to hop on three legs rather than sprint upon two.

Upon the slimmest point between the canyon's sidewall and the lake, four ranks formed up from the previously unorganized mass of soldiers and adventurers. Both men and women joined, uncaring of their order unless they were fighting with friends.

The front two ranks, however, still spanned 150 or so melee fighters per row. In the end, they managed to cover the 250 foot stretch of traversable land, establishing a flimsy choke point to beat off the opposing forces. That, or die trying.

The second line of warriors stood close to the first. Terem figured that he would find out why soon enough, so he directed his attention to the remaining two regiments.

The more frontal of the two consisted of archers with bristling quivers and impressive bows. The archer's ranks were more unorderly than the warriors, but each person had an intense gaze wrought upon their faces. Clearly, they didn't believe that the warriors would be able to protect them. Nobody believed this, but nobody cared. They only wanted results in terms of time.

Finally, at the very back, dedicated magic casters dotted the stretch of land. They numbered approximately 50 in total, and this was also the regiment Terem found himself in.

Central in the magic casters' rank. the hulking guild master Tom stood tall, his gaze unwavering in front of the enemy units. Terem believed that he was brave, but the truth was more sinister. Tom knew that this zombies-like horde was only the scouting party, the first wave. Nothing more and nothing less.

The real threat would arrive once the Orc Lord gathered enough information. The question would be, how much and what will he do with it?

A wrench stuck within Tom's gut. His instinct was screaming that he was missing something, casting foreboding shadows upon his already glum thoughts.

The problem was that Tom couldn't do anything about his hunch. As he saw it, the orcish army would end up catching the villagers no matter what he did. The outcome was seemingly unavoidable.

Meaningless thoughts whistled through his head like the cars on a bullet train. What is going to happen? Will the villagers be alright? Why?

Yes, why?

This question ground to a screeching stop within Tom's mind, temporarily distracting him from the upcoming free-for-all.

'Why were the orcs attacking now of all times?'

This was the question that stumped Tom. It simply didn't make sense. Not one bit.

No monsters came close to this area for unforeseen reasons. Rumors stated that this was due to a powerful being sectioning off its territory. Others acclaimed it to the Gods' blessing upon the earth. Only the monsters really knew. And Tom, he did not.

"Archer's aim and hold steady!"

Tom shouted his first command to his waiting comrades.

"Steady~!"

The goblin horde approached closer. The frontline could now make out their ugly wart-strewn faces through the evening haze. Shadows from forlorn trees and stones lengthened against the sun. The black wall of men seemed to leap out towards the approaching enemy, greeting them with a deadly prophesy.

"Ste~ady~!"

The goblins tripped and trampled their way closer in their clumsy tripedal running style.

1000 feet away.

900 feet away.

850 feet away.

800...

"Fire!"

The sun disappeared, dipping under the treetops as a black swarm alighted upon the night air. The black bees hummed overhead before gravity pulled the swarm down in an invisible arc.

"Screeeeeeeeeeeee-!"

The night started with the sounds of death. And it would end with them too.