I will say this. Flindle in this part was going to be a just a minor background character with a couple lines... But then I decided to give him Major Erklen's role in this part and have Erklen do something else... And then I thought Flindle was too boring and gave him an interesting speech pattern... And then--well, you get the picture.
Part LVI: At the Brink
Date: Yippah 24th, 114 A.U.
Major Erklen quickly ran down the crag, making sure that all of the fortifications were sure and that all the soldiers in their place, armed with both a gun and a corsha sword for close combat. They had only recently gotten a large shipment of guns from Lord Freglak, who somewhere had managed to go around the ancient edict given by the priests forbidding guns as unholy weapons that the heretics used. Major Erklen did his best to avoid the sharp tensions between the priests and the government; he just did his job and ignored all the politics. Because, as every goblin knows, there’s no surer way to die than politics. Unless you’re a priest. The priests always win.
“Are all the forces ready?” Major Erklen turned toward his second in command, a goblin who he’d been relying on more heavily on with everything that he was trying to do to keep their forces from falling under the aerial might of the elves.
“What? Oh, yes sir! It is ready; everything ready is!” Flindle, his 2nd in Command rapidly said. Flindle was in charge of the aerial might of the goblin troops and in trying to keep back the greater elven attack ships that did a Mother’s Tree worth of damage on their infantry whenever it got past the defenses.
“Good,” Major Erklen said. “Do your best to keep back the elven fighters.”
“I’ll do my best sir—the best I will do!” Flindle said. “But, well, I’m sorry sir, but when I look at this campaign long-term, for long-term the campaign will be , we can’t hold back the elves forever, sir—the elves won’t hold back forever. Many sacrifices must make we to keep them back for each battle—battles determine sacrifices.”
“I understand,” Major Erklen said. “I’ve been petitioning Lord Freglak to try and find some way to help us turn the tide, for without that, it seems that this will be too sure of a defeat for us and for our people.”
Flindle quickly checked in on his companions and then leapt into his aircraft, buckled himself into his seat and pressed a button to enter into the intercom. “Is everyone ready—everyone ready must be!” Flindle said. “Fly off the airstrip in order—as usual we will do things. I will go first and waiting—yes, waiting will be, but not for long. The battle soon must commence and again we must fight.”
Exiting the intercom, Flindle quickly checked all the lights and then pressed on the throttle to steer over to the broken makeshift runway. Flindle took a deep breath and then ran down the runway and broke up above the treeline to be flying above the forest. Cycling around, Flindle saw the great aircraft of the elves making for them and signaled Major Erklen. The elves were making the first move.
They were coming.
Their troops weren’t prepared for the first bomb that was thrown, a bomb that ripped apart the left flank of their defenses and killed enough goblins before open fire from behind the trees took out a good many more. Major Erklen cursed and tried to rally up their defenses and find the elves that were trying to lure them out with their guerilla warfare. Erklen wanted nothing more than to unleash their troops on the elves if not for the fact that such a move would require an abandonment of their defenses—defenses that represented the last defenses before the first major goblin city.
"Find them! Shoot them!” Major Erklen yelled, paying no attention to his own safety. “Use your flamethrowers and put those trees in blazes to draw them out! Move!”
A couple bullets whizzed by his head, but Erklen paid them no heed. “Hold your line fast!” he yelled to their flank’s commander. “Drive them out from the trees and shoot them down, but do not break the defenses!”
Flindle quickly maneuvered his fighter to narrowly avoid the missile intended for him. Zeroing in on part of the great elven aircraft, Flindle pressed at the release button, letting loose a barrage of bullets that smashed through the armor of the ship. Swooping down near the side of the ship, Flindle swiped at another button, releasing a magnetic plate-bomb that fell off the fighter and, propelled by an invisible force, moved hard to attach itself to the aircraft. Avoiding the bullets intended for him, Flindle flew away from the aircraft moments before the bomb went up, blowing up half the aircraft, leaving the other half to begin its plummet to the earth. But there were still many more aircraft.
All around him, their fighters were faltering. To his left, a fighter exploded after being hit head-on by a missile. A few still tried to swarm the greater elven airships and take them down, but the majority were doing all that they could just to avoid being killed by the barrage of the elven aircraft. Flindle had known that this would be a tough defense to make, but…
He had hoped that they might be able to hold out longer than this.
Seconds later, the exploding remains of another goblin fighter tore off the main engine of Flindle’s fighter.
As hoped, the blazing inferno that was kindled in the forest drove out the elves. Hiding behind makeshift cover, the elves continued to press forward, moving to the feet of the crags to avoid fire. Erklen was sure that they would soon be attempting to scale it. He couldn’t have been more correct.
Moving out from the trees, a regiment of tall winged elves burst out, quickly shortening the distance between them and the crags as they madly shot, sending defenders fleeing. Erklen spotted the equipment that three of the winged elves were carrying and instantly understood their strategy. All they needed to know was to make a foothold on the crags and put scaling equipment in place to get their companions with them on the cliff.
They could not be allowed to make such a foothold.
Flames shot from the rear of his fighter as Flindle went down. Everything wasn’t working. He couldn’t shoot anything, and steering was crazy, as if trying to control one’s route while flying down rapids in a river. And there was no way to steer upwards. It was all one dramatic descent, a descent that Flindle could only see ending with a climatic collision with the ground.
Flindle maneuvered the fighter past the last line of trees into a plain that stretched for miles, flee of trees and other tall obstacles except for a line of cliffs quickly approaching. Flindle moved the throttle to upwards but to no avail,. As Flindle saw his life flash before his eyes, he watched the line of cliffs come up before him, thick ivy covering the cliff that he was about to hit. Flindle made the sign of the Mother Tree and prayed that he would have a merciful after life. There wasn’t going to be anything else in this life for him.
Part LVI: At the Brink
Date: Yippah 24th, 114 A.U.
Major Erklen quickly ran down the crag, making sure that all of the fortifications were sure and that all the soldiers in their place, armed with both a gun and a corsha sword for close combat. They had only recently gotten a large shipment of guns from Lord Freglak, who somewhere had managed to go around the ancient edict given by the priests forbidding guns as unholy weapons that the heretics used. Major Erklen did his best to avoid the sharp tensions between the priests and the government; he just did his job and ignored all the politics. Because, as every goblin knows, there’s no surer way to die than politics. Unless you’re a priest. The priests always win.
“Are all the forces ready?” Major Erklen turned toward his second in command, a goblin who he’d been relying on more heavily on with everything that he was trying to do to keep their forces from falling under the aerial might of the elves.
“What? Oh, yes sir! It is ready; everything ready is!” Flindle, his 2nd in Command rapidly said. Flindle was in charge of the aerial might of the goblin troops and in trying to keep back the greater elven attack ships that did a Mother’s Tree worth of damage on their infantry whenever it got past the defenses.
“Good,” Major Erklen said. “Do your best to keep back the elven fighters.”
“I’ll do my best sir—the best I will do!” Flindle said. “But, well, I’m sorry sir, but when I look at this campaign long-term, for long-term the campaign will be , we can’t hold back the elves forever, sir—the elves won’t hold back forever. Many sacrifices must make we to keep them back for each battle—battles determine sacrifices.”
“I understand,” Major Erklen said. “I’ve been petitioning Lord Freglak to try and find some way to help us turn the tide, for without that, it seems that this will be too sure of a defeat for us and for our people.”
Flindle quickly checked in on his companions and then leapt into his aircraft, buckled himself into his seat and pressed a button to enter into the intercom. “Is everyone ready—everyone ready must be!” Flindle said. “Fly off the airstrip in order—as usual we will do things. I will go first and waiting—yes, waiting will be, but not for long. The battle soon must commence and again we must fight.”
Exiting the intercom, Flindle quickly checked all the lights and then pressed on the throttle to steer over to the broken makeshift runway. Flindle took a deep breath and then ran down the runway and broke up above the treeline to be flying above the forest. Cycling around, Flindle saw the great aircraft of the elves making for them and signaled Major Erklen. The elves were making the first move.
They were coming.
Their troops weren’t prepared for the first bomb that was thrown, a bomb that ripped apart the left flank of their defenses and killed enough goblins before open fire from behind the trees took out a good many more. Major Erklen cursed and tried to rally up their defenses and find the elves that were trying to lure them out with their guerilla warfare. Erklen wanted nothing more than to unleash their troops on the elves if not for the fact that such a move would require an abandonment of their defenses—defenses that represented the last defenses before the first major goblin city.
"Find them! Shoot them!” Major Erklen yelled, paying no attention to his own safety. “Use your flamethrowers and put those trees in blazes to draw them out! Move!”
A couple bullets whizzed by his head, but Erklen paid them no heed. “Hold your line fast!” he yelled to their flank’s commander. “Drive them out from the trees and shoot them down, but do not break the defenses!”
Flindle quickly maneuvered his fighter to narrowly avoid the missile intended for him. Zeroing in on part of the great elven aircraft, Flindle pressed at the release button, letting loose a barrage of bullets that smashed through the armor of the ship. Swooping down near the side of the ship, Flindle swiped at another button, releasing a magnetic plate-bomb that fell off the fighter and, propelled by an invisible force, moved hard to attach itself to the aircraft. Avoiding the bullets intended for him, Flindle flew away from the aircraft moments before the bomb went up, blowing up half the aircraft, leaving the other half to begin its plummet to the earth. But there were still many more aircraft.
All around him, their fighters were faltering. To his left, a fighter exploded after being hit head-on by a missile. A few still tried to swarm the greater elven airships and take them down, but the majority were doing all that they could just to avoid being killed by the barrage of the elven aircraft. Flindle had known that this would be a tough defense to make, but…
He had hoped that they might be able to hold out longer than this.
Seconds later, the exploding remains of another goblin fighter tore off the main engine of Flindle’s fighter.
As hoped, the blazing inferno that was kindled in the forest drove out the elves. Hiding behind makeshift cover, the elves continued to press forward, moving to the feet of the crags to avoid fire. Erklen was sure that they would soon be attempting to scale it. He couldn’t have been more correct.
Moving out from the trees, a regiment of tall winged elves burst out, quickly shortening the distance between them and the crags as they madly shot, sending defenders fleeing. Erklen spotted the equipment that three of the winged elves were carrying and instantly understood their strategy. All they needed to know was to make a foothold on the crags and put scaling equipment in place to get their companions with them on the cliff.
They could not be allowed to make such a foothold.
Flames shot from the rear of his fighter as Flindle went down. Everything wasn’t working. He couldn’t shoot anything, and steering was crazy, as if trying to control one’s route while flying down rapids in a river. And there was no way to steer upwards. It was all one dramatic descent, a descent that Flindle could only see ending with a climatic collision with the ground.
Flindle maneuvered the fighter past the last line of trees into a plain that stretched for miles, flee of trees and other tall obstacles except for a line of cliffs quickly approaching. Flindle moved the throttle to upwards but to no avail,. As Flindle saw his life flash before his eyes, he watched the line of cliffs come up before him, thick ivy covering the cliff that he was about to hit. Flindle made the sign of the Mother Tree and prayed that he would have a merciful after life. There wasn’t going to be anything else in this life for him.
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