Imbrell wasn’t there when Pinescar fell. She only heard it once the creatures she had sworn to protect were wailing her name in fear and sorrow. She didn’t believe it until she saw the pyre, the pillar of smoke, and the ashes of her friend.
The Odious Legion had been cutting their way through the Vastglen from the south for several days, felling trees for fire and fun, hunting wantonly and without respect for the delicate balance of the forest. Imbrell had heard of their incursion, but had hoped, foolishly, that they would soon tire of their exploits and head back where they had come from. She was wrong, and it cost the life of her friend. Pinescar was the first true resistance they faced. The wildlife told her that he surprised them, crushing a dozen with each footstep. He was angry, and he was scared. Scared for his grove and for his home. The treant plowed through the horde like a loamy field ripe for sowing, but they were too many for him. He could not retreat from their swarming mass, which encircled him at first with bodies, and then with ropes. The thick cord wrapped around his legs, the goblins holding fast even as he lifted them up into the air with the strength of a thousand years’ growth. Many more died as he tried to resist their bonds, but eventually he succumbed and toppled, ending even more of the marauding goblinoids. Once he was down though, it was over. They set a fire in moments, a fire which engulfed him entirely. He was incinerated, consumed in an inferno that continued to spread throughout the forest. Those creatures close enough to witness his death fled to Imbrell, hoping that she might be their salvation. More than this, they told her of what was left after Pinescar’s cremation—a crystal seed glittering in the embers, stolen by the riotous goblins who painted their bodies with his ashes and danced around the fire-forged glade.
When they reached Imbrell, she accepted them into her care. When they told her what they had seen, and brought news of Pinescar’s death, she told them to find places to hide, and issued the call. Nature’s call for vengeance. Within minutes, her most loyal followers were by her side—dire wolves the size of bears, great bears the size of elk, giant elk the size of elephants. They answered her call and flocked to her, knowing that their homes and lives were on the line, and that they must do something to avenge their fallen. All around them, the smaller animals ran for burrows, climbed into the trees, or bolted into earthen holes. They could smell the smoke even from this great distance, their keen senses warning them of the raging flames.
*
“This one’s for little boss,” the goblin exclaimed to its kin. “Big boss can find his own shinies!”
The goblins cackled, their stained teeth standing out against their ash-covered faces.
The boss retrieved the crystal seed, as big as his head, from a tattered leather satchel slung across his body and held it aloft, so it would catch the light of the flickering flames that followed the goblins. The gathered crowd murmured in awe. One of the goblins, a stooped creature with cunning eyes, stepped forward.
“If one of the trees has a shiny inside, perhaps others do, little boss?”
“Not so little boss to you, weakling,” the boss snapped back. “I know the trees have shinies inside. Not so smart, weakling. Problem is getting the shinies out.”
“Burn them boss!” shouted another goblin, brandishing a burning torch.
“Burn them! Burn them! Burn them!”
The chant was taken up by the goblins, rippling through the smoke-filled forest. With a gleeful smile, the boss snatched a torch from the hand of a nearby goblin and held it to the closest trunk, which soon began to crackle and smolder. Tongues of flame flickered across the bark, igniting vines and creepers around it, and spreading into the undergrowth. Soon the flames were blazing wild and fast all around the celebrating goblins, safe in their own scorched clearing.
Then, another sound joined the crackling inferno. A rumbling roll like an earthquake getting started. Then the roar of the fire was rivaled by another, far more ferocious chorus of rampaging animals. They burst into the clearing, through the smoke, and into the ranks of the goblins. Panicked, the diminutive creatures tried to flee from the animals, but were at their mercy. A great bear gathered three up in a single mouthful and crushed them in its mighty jaws. A pack of dire wolves swept through the cowardly creatures, picking them off one by one.
“Stand and fight!” screamed the boss, one hand clutching desperately at his ‘shiny’, the other waving a rusted blade in the air above his head. “Useless runts!”
Imbrell spotted the goblin with the seed through the smoke, and galloped over in an instant. The goblin was wily though, and dodged out of the path of her charge when his ears twitched to the sound of her hoofbeats. He rolled aside, almost dropping the crystal seed.
“Careful horny horse, if the shiny breaks I’ll break your skull.”
She snorted in derision, as if a creature so pathetic as this would intimidate her. She pawed the earth with her hoof, reared high with a piercing whinny, and charged again. This time, the goblin anticipated her charge, holding out his blade to stop her. As she met the creature she disarmed him with a flick of her horn, sending the blade into the flames, and barreling the goblin over. A single strike of her hoof smashed him into the scorched earth. She bent low to wrap her body around the seed, and called to the skies. Within moments, a giant eagle appeared to take the seed—the last memory of Pinescar—to safety. Then another appeared, ready to take word of the destruction of the Vastglen to Sylvia.