The Kobold Raid

At dawn, Leo was still deep in sleep when he was abruptly shaken awake by the Little Mouse. Blinking his eyes open, he was met with her wide, glowing eyes and tousled black hair.

"Go catch fish!" Little Mouse urged, her voice a desperate whisper.

"It's still early, what's the rush?" Leo grumbled, rolling over to continue sleeping. However, he noticed Little Mouse's sleeves were soaking wet, and her small hands had turned a disturbing shade of blue from the cold. She must have gone to the fish pond by herself at the crack of dawn.

Tears welled up in Little Mouse's eyes as she shook Leo insistently. "Go catch fish! There are so many!"

Leo felt a jolt of excitement and scrambled out of the tent, grabbing a spear and a bucket before heading to the fish pond with Little Mouse.

The riverbank in the early morning was eerily quiet, shrouded in a light mist. The deer herd Leo had seen before had crossed the river and now lay on the opposite bank, watching Leo and Little Mouse with lazy indifference.

When they reached the fish pond, they found it teeming with fish. The shallow water was a writhing mass of black fish backs, breaking the thin ice that had formed around the edges. Leo plunged his spear into the pond and hoisted out a four or five-pound sturgeon, which thrashed wildly even with the spear through its body, slipping off the weapon and flopping frenetically on the riverbank. 

Little Mouse let out a determined yell and pounced on it, wrestling the fish into submission. Leo scanned the surroundings and waved vigorously in one direction. 

A few patrolling militiamen, alerted by his signal, came over. Seeing the abundance of fish, they eagerly joined in the fishing effort. Despite the seemingly large number of fish, they only managed to catch a few dozen pounds — not nearly enough to feed the 300 villagers but enough to improve their meals for a day.

Leo, delegating the task of transporting the fish back to camp, stayed behind with a few militiamen to build several more small fish ponds along the riverbank, baiting them with breadcrumbs. He wasn't expecting the same bounty every time, but it was a small hope.

While diligently constructing the ponds, a distant horn sounded from the western woods, a scout's warning signal. The camp echoed the alarm, and the previously quiet encampment buzzed with activity. Women, children, and the elderly emerged from their tents, seeking shelter behind the hastily erected barricades by the riverbank.

Others stripped the tents from the frames to use as makeshift fortifications. Leo scooped up Little Mouse, urging the militiamen to sprint back to camp. As they neared, they saw numerous small figures emerging from the western forest.

Fortunately, the camp was situated on a peninsula with ample space between the forest and the camp. The intervening thousand meters of scrubland, half of which had been burned to charred ground, along with the scout's warning, prevented the kobolds from sneaking close.

Back at the camp, Leo put down Little Mouse and shouted, "Form ranks! Form ranks!"

The kobolds, now visible, had crossed the barren land and were entering the scorched area. This group seemed more numerous than before, though their combat readiness was varied. Not all were armed with spears; many wielded small pickaxes, wooden sticks, and sharpened stones.

The robust kobolds led the charge, followed by weaker kobolds armed with stones or bare hands, trailing behind, scrambling on all fours.

"Don't panic! They're just kobolds," reassured Ulyan, standing atop a supply wagon with a bow, attempting to calm the villagers.

"Stay calm! Stay calm! Do as I trained you!" Leo commanded, corralling twenty militiamen into formation. "Slings ready!"

Encouraged by the sight of the militia, a group of young villagers armed with farm tools took positions at the flanks, boosting morale.

The militiamen, forming a loose line, planted their spears into the ground, holding shields in one hand and slings in the other, loading stones. With numerous skirmishes under their belts, they had shed their initial fear, now standing as seasoned fighters.

Leo, charged with adrenaline from the approaching battle, issued commands with practiced precision, suppressing his urge to charge recklessly. At a hundred meters, he ordered, "Prepare!" and the militiamen began to spin their slings. "Release!"

Stones whistled through the air, though most fell short or missed, only a few striking the kobolds, causing minimal disruption. The kobolds, tough and resilient, shrugged off the blows, but the attack did scatter their ranks slightly.

In retaliation, some kobolds threw stones and spears, but most projectiles fell short. Meanwhile, Ulyan and his archers on the wagon unleashed a volley, striking down several kobolds.

"Spears ready!" Leo ordered. "Throw!"

Twenty spears flew, impaling seven or eight kobolds. With practiced efficiency, the militiamen readied a second volley. "Throw!"

With the kobolds now within ten meters, Leo shouted, "Shields up!"

The militiamen locked shields, forming a tight defensive line with spears and swords protruding. A robust kobold, gnashing its sharp teeth and frothing, leaped at the shield wall. Leo swung his chain hammer like a flail, the weapon smashing into the kobold, sending it flying with its head shattered.

Seeing their leader felled and the determined human defense, the remaining kobolds hesitated, then broke into a panicked retreat.

"Retreating kobolds!" Leo noted with relief. Despite their formidable numbers, the kobolds' inherent cowardice and the humans' disciplined defense ensured a swift victory.