Elves vs Goblins: 106-111

On her hands and knees and screaming in agony, Betsan feels the gaping emptiness in her belly, as her eviscerated bowels tumble messily from her ripped-open bodice, soaking Loren’s sacred soil with more than just her life’s blood. Her ragged, rasping cries go unheard amongst the clamour of blades and the atavistic screeches of furious, terrified Goblins.

On the Elven right flank, Cerys struggles to retain control of her shield, warding the edge of a rusted halberd away with her sword as the hooked blade snags on her shield rim. She can hear poor gut-stabbed Carwen screaming beneath her feet, hear Esyllt’s choking gasps as she clutches at the arrow that has pierced her chest. Her sisters Alwenna and Ceirios shout encouragement to her as they hurry forwards, into the fight.

In the centre, Angharad runs her blade mercilessly into a Goblin’s guts, while behind her, Eira stoops to finish off a struggling, wounded creature as it spitefully tries to bite through the tough leather of her boots. The fighting is cramped, fierce and merciless, jagged blades reaching eagerly for Elven flesh as the Goblins howl their defiance.

On the left, young Lawri’s Elvish speed and precision is too great a match for an armoured Goblin warrior: She thrusts the tip of her blade into the unprotected flesh beneath it’s arm as it raises it’s weapon to strike at her. It’s her first kill of the battle, but she swears to the spirits of the great forest that it won’t be her last.

Angharad has killed four foul Goblins already, a feat she’d hoped to rival Seren’s skill-at-arms. Alas, there her tally ends. Clumsy and rusty as the hook-bladed Goblin halberds are, the vile beasts are adept at using them to pull an unwary warrior’s shield aside. There is only a moment for the brave Sylvan Knight's confidence to become fear, as she realises her naked belly is utterly unprotected. She sees the malicious glee in the glittering eyes that peep out from behind the mis-shapen helm, hears the creature’s mocking laugh. Then wiry arms, surprisingly strong for such a small-statured beast, snap forwards into a lunge that doubles her over with a snarling grunt of pain as ribs crack and the breath is driven from her body and the blood squirts out hot and hard.

The great forest, capable of both great beauty and great malice, reaps another sacrifice.