Goblin Wave

Rivyn stood over the four goblins, their bodies breaking apart to a thousand pieces amidst deep heavings. His sword hung loosely at his side, his knuckles white from clenching it too firmly. The air was still about him, silent, with no indication of walls, a floor, or even horizon. Just endless, blank whiteness. It was unnerving, this strange emptiness, like the world itself had been erased.

His muscles throbbed with exhaustion, and his mind was a race. Was this a tutorial of some sort? How many times had he heard that the Tower-the adventurers were usually slime monsters of challenges starting from the weak. But this? Relentless.

The four goblins had proved somewhat more challenge than expected. Hed just barely survived the fight, and his body screamed for rest. His eyes swept the whiteness apprehensively. Why goblins? Why here?

The System had integrated itself with the Tower's interface, but Rivyn didn't have the time to process that now. He knew only one thing: things were not right. Why does the Tower attack me this way?

In minutes, Rivyn's heartbeat had slowed, and the perspiration had been wiped from his brow. Some strange tension seemed to sear the dead quiet of the void, and an instinct kept nagging him that this was yet to come, something worse. Instincts screamed for readiness.

Then, the air shimmered, and his heart fell.

Suddenly, another ten goblins burst into view, farther away. Stunted, wiry bodies of green skin hunched over, snarling with crude weapons held ready, these moved in a more formalized approach, their eyes glowing with malice.

Rivyn took a deep breath, clenching tightly onto his sword. Now ten?

There was no time for thought. As one, the goblins charged, padding in silent unison against the unseen ground. Rivyn took backward steps hastily as he considered his options. I can't take on all of them together. I have to separate them somehow.

He sprang sideways, trying to draw a few of them away from the others. It worked, to an extent-two peeled off, pursuing him as the rest maintained their charge. Rivyn spun, swinging his sword in a broad arc as the first goblin came within reach. The blade caught across the goblin's neck, and its body disappeared into the white.

But the second goblin was upon him already. It lunged with its short sword, and Rivyn could barely block the blow. The impact jarred his arm, sending a wave of pain up to his shoulder. They're stronger than the last wave, he thought.

Counterattack-he plunged his sword deep into the torso of the goblin-and it disappeared into nothingness.

Eight left.

Rivyn turned in time to see three more goblins rush towards him. He rolled to the side, dodging their wild strikes, but they didn't stop. Finally, one managed to strike him against his side, and Rivyn winced in pain as the blade bit through his shirt, leaving a shallow cut.

Rivyn gritted his teeth and, with a flash of steel, cut one of them down; the other two, though, were still on him. He could only dodge another attack; screaming muscles seemed to protest against all constraint. I cannot keep this up for much longer.

The rest of the goblins closed ranks about him, eyes aglow with hunger. Rivyn knew he was in trouble. Have to be smarter, not just faster. Hethen sprang backward, giving space, before darting suddenly forward in a fast strike that took out another one.

Seven left.

It was a falters, no more, as if the goblins sensed a difference in his strategy. That was all. In another instant they were moving once more, their blows swifter and more in concert. Rivyn parried one blow, barely evaded another-the goblin blade grazed his shoulder. The sharp immediate pain he showed aside.

He whipped around, cleaving through another goblin, but the effort had left him open. One of the remaining ones swung with brute strength; the blow caught Rivyn in the leg and sent him stumbling as his vision blurred from the pain. Six left, but they are not giving me room for anything.

Rivyn fought for his legs to go-one after the other-and could not afford to stop for even one instant, since every time he did, the goblins were upon him, blades cleaving the air with precision.

The next attacked him, and Rivyn dodged it, plunging his sword into its back. Like those before, this one, too, vanished into nothingness. But before he could even regain his stance, there he faced two others already upon him. He parried one attack, but another cut him across the chest and sent him reeling back.

Five left. Just five, he said to himself, even though his vision began to blur and his body felt like lead. He knew he was losing his stamina; his trembling legs felt a quiver with exhaustion.

The goblins waited for nothing. In a flurry, they charged once more, and Rivyn knew that this couldn't get much longer-so his body was bruised, and with every movement, it was if tugged from the chasm's depths. Rivyn could hardly hold his sword steady; his arms shook from all the strain.

Rivyn gave a despairing shriek and launched himself at the nearest goblin in a wild slash, his blade biting home to cleave the creature's midsection, but another goblin's sword found its mark, raking across his ribs.

Four remain.

Rivyn had staggered, gasping, his body screaming as his vision blurred with blood dripping down his side. He could barely stand much less fight. The goblins sensed their advantage and closed in. They closed in, circling him for the kill.

But Rivyn refused to go down-not like this. Hands shaking, he seized his sword and launched to his feet. He deflected one attack, another goblin swung past him, its blade slicing deep into his leg. Rivyn fell on one knee, his breath coming out in uneven heaves.

I couldn't. With goblins closing in on him, he labored to lift his sword. I have to keep fighting.

One last spurt of strength and Rivyn had felled another goblin, then he was spent. He threw himself onto the ground, letting his hold relax on his sword.

[You have survived the wave.]

Rivyn lay on his back, his lungs searing for air as his body shook with the aftershocks of his exhaustion. He'd won-but only just. His chest heaved and his skin slick with blood and sweat, his vision swam while he tried to put together exactly what happened.

Why must it be this way? He lay on the invisible ground, looking upwards at the endless white void as his mind worked over and over. The Tower is meant to challenge him, yes, but this? It's almost personal, like the Tower-the System-is testing him.

He grunted with a groan, heaving himself upwards, and immediately felt his body protest every movement. He glanced down at his wounds-nothing fatal, but deep enough to leave him weakened. He needed time to recover-a luxury he knew wasn't going to be given by the Tower.

He was breathing shallowly, his limbs were weak, yet still he did not understand what was happening. He had fought goblins before, but nothing like that. "The Tower is playing with me," he thought.

Ten minutes of oppressive silence had passed. His mind began to race, reworking all the ways of redeeming himself. If only I had a bit more time—

However, it was a luxury he had not had.

The air shimmered once more, and Rivyn's stomach dropped.

**

Twenty goblins.

**

Rivyn's blood ran cold as the creatures materialized before him. His wounds throbbed, and his muscles ached, but the sight of so many goblins sent a wave of fear through him. Twenty goblins, and I'm still injured.

He steeled himself, and his grip on his sword's hilt had tightened in the weakened grasp. I can still fight on. I can survive.

But in his heart, he felt this would be something else entirely.

The goblins charged as one beast, filling the vacant air with their bloodthirsty cries. Rivyn willed his legs to move; he dodged sideways as the first wave crashed into where he had stood a moment before. He ran in wide circles, trying to separate them much as before, but there were too many this time.

For every one cut off, a couple more waited. He swung and cut the first goblin easily, his sword forced through the beast's throat, the others at his heels. On fire with every exhalation let out, his eyes fuzzy from it. Swifter this time, goblins closed in, trying to close to his avenues of escape and drag him into close combat. Rivyn sliced at one goblin and then another, dropping them, but by the time he turned, another goblin's blade reached his back. Screaming in agony, he lurched forward, not able to catch his breath. "I just can't stop.". Five goblins broke from the mass and sprang to attack him en masse. Rivyn barely managed to parry the blows, but the strength with which they fell sent him crashing to the ground. The sword slipped from his grasp as the goblins swarmed over him, weapons high. Rivyn gasped; his body refused to move as the blades descended.

[You have died.]

The words seemed to hang in the air like a death sentence. The jumbled confusion of a mind, angry at why, why did it have to end like this, were Rivyn's last thoughts. Rivyn had lain in that endless white, completely still, his breathing shallow, defeat weighing heavy upon his chest. His sword still lay within reach, but it might as well have been a mile away. Every inch of his body was yelling for mercy, and blood loss fuzzy-ed his vision. Smothered by goblins, against all his fighting, the odds came to be really high. You are dead.