The aftermath

I looked down at the smouldering charcoal and embers which remained from the once-civilised village which stood there just hours prior.

The monster had long since left, most likely to lick its wounds after the battle.

Most of the goblins had been scattered into the woods over the hours following the battle. The only ones still remaining in the village were the women and children still grieving over the dead. 

My small troop had gathered back at the top of the hill after the battle. 

It had been a phyric victory at best. Where 90 strong rats once stood had been reduced to a measly 30 scarred and bloody soldiers. 

Thassius had gained a new scar stretching along his back where his armour has been pierced. 

Sniffer and Twig seemed to have remained relatively unharmed however even they had been coated in crimson. 

They had been busy holding off the goblin army while I dispatched their leader. 

From their reports, it had been a brutal affair.

The monster had however done most of the damage to their army. The goblins stood no chance without their ballista. 

I still clutched at the two heads which still sat loosely in my fingers. I would take them both back as a tribute. The white rat would serve as a warning to enemies still undiscovered within the clan. 

A long march remained ahead of us. We have already wasted too much time on this village. 

Rallying the remaining rats we began marching towards the rendevous point. We were told a 2-day march but information given to us by Styx seemed unreliable. 

We began the march upon first light. No thought was lost to those who died in the battle. That was not the style of rats. 

The first day went by peacefully and uneventfully. The light came and went quickly bringing the cold moonlight upon us. 

We stayed huddled as one walking in packs wielding our torches defensively. Few of us had forgotten the last march we made through the night and the destruction of the village by the creature weighed heavy on our minds. 

While the day consisted of chatter and laughs the night brought a distinct hush over the rats. Few dared to speak lest they were picked as the next victim of the monsters that lurked in the forest. 

I had long since ditched my main sword which consisted of a handle and a small metal stump since my duel with Vrogg. 

The frost bit at us as we trudged through the forest but we kept going. Like clockwork, we walked never daring to stop and think for too long about what the rustling in the bushes was caused by. 

The dull monotony had given me extensive time to think, however. 

Why could I now understand the goblin language, and why did I get that massive growth spurt right before the attack? It made no sense. Goblin language was built specifically for the vocal cords of goblins. It made it a skill few dared to learn. 

The small white rat could never have learned it to such a level in a month either.

However I learned how to speak it, I highly suspect she did it the same way. 

Either way, it would be a question I would hold for Itch when we arrived at the rest of the army.

The remaining hours of the night trickled by bringing the safety of day along with it. 

The march sped up during the day. Before long we had reached our destination. 

A camp far larger than any I'd seen before. Rats scurried in all different directions kitted fully in various colours of armour. Contrary to before the once strict red armour and black cloth was replaced by a variety of different colours and shades. 

Rats dressed in blue carrying huge shields shifted around like blocks of solid metal. 

Smaller rats dressed in white scattered along the ground seemingly carrying various herbs and bottles at their sides. 

Particularly good-looking rats adorned in punk fabrics strutted through the camp eagerly eyeing up any rat which got too close. 

The number of rats was uncountable.

A huge tent was at the centre of the camp. In fact more of a castle than a tent as it stood nearly 10 metres tall. 

I assumed that was there I would find the Red Baron and hopefully itch. 

We stood out amidst the other rats as we marched our way through the camp. Our blood-stained armour and disordered colour pattern made us distinct amidst the sea of rats. 

We also appeared much taller standing a few inches to a few feet taller than most surrounding rats. Most of the weaker in my rank had been killed in the village battle. It acted much akin to the culling removing a lot of our smaller and weaker members. 

We quickly weaved between tents and the occasional burrows most likely leading to an equally intricate underground citadel. We eventually came up to the massive tent.

I made most of the troop wait outside choosing too only enter with me and Thassius. I still held the heads now hidden inside two small bags we managed to pull together. 

A guard awaited us at the entrance. Not a rat I recognized.

"Whats businesses do yous weaklings haves"

His tone seemed aggressive but I let it slide for now. 

"I needs to see my lords the Red Barron".

"Hes not in here's silly rats, hes over in his personal quarters" 

He pointed off into the direction of a far smaller yet still impressive red-stained tent off to one side of the camp. 

Without a sign of appreciation, I rejoined my cohort and made my way over to the comparatively far smaller tent. 

As we got closer the rat varieties slowly reduced until only red and black-dressed rats remained. Many of which I recognized from past encounters. 

I dismissed my troop and headed for the red tent alongside thassius. 

This time no guard stood in front of the tent allowing us to push straight in. 

Inside a much smaller arrangement of chairs was placed intricately out. Each one was filled with the familiar figures of the tribunal. 

Next to the Red baron in the middle sat a smaller chair which Itch sat atop.

Chatter filled the air between the members before silence fell as they realised my presence. Their eyes quickly fell onto me studying me intensely. 

I stared back scanning each rat in earnest. 

Itch had an aura of pride around him which he quickly hid upon seeing me look at him. 

The only other rat which reacted was Styx who adopted a confused look before quickly hiding his own emotions as well. 

"I assume you have completed my mission"

The red baron was the first to speak up.

"yes my lord"

I gently lifted the head of the goblin from the bag and with a light chuck let it roll along the floor. 

"The head of Vrogg the thrasher, dispatched by myself"

Before the red baron could speak up I continued by lifting the other head out of the bag and repeating the same actions.

"And it seems some vermin had betrayed us as well my lord"

A shudder racked through Styx as rage seemed to fill his body.

He looked ready to pounce at me however was interrupted by a booming laugh from the centre seat.

"Good, good. It seems certain rats are beginning to become clumsy. I will see to it that they are disciplines properly".

He pulled a small bag out of his pocket before gently throwing it towards me.

I caught it and inspected its contents. A small vial of red liquid sat inside. 

"A reward for your loyalty, the concentrated blood of a human. 

Now leave we have important business to discuss"

He motioned for Itch to follow us. 

It had been a long few days. I was thankful to finally be back within allied territory. A soft bed and a peaceful sleep lay ahead of me. 

But first I had questions and Itch would be the one to answer them.