In the farthest east kingdom of Hogarth Hills, King Wilsom rubbed his gnarled old hands together, almost as if he were trying to rub off the many liver spots.

He sat on his thrown, leaning forward, his thinning white hair not doing much to cover his wrinkled scalp. King Wilsom had been a great warrior in his youth and a wise king for Trader Town in his later years. Trader Town was the center of commerce for both the Upper and Lower Glens.

Men, dwarves, elves, and even apes brought their wares here to the Bazaar for trade and auction. This included all manner of items from clothes, jewelry, furniture, food, and herds.

King Wilsom had been a vital part in the growth of Trader Town, creating a credit system and even a warehouse bank, where money and goods could be stored. But nature had taken its course, and now he sat on the throne in his late eighties, his mind as frail as his body.

“How many goblins?” his voice crackled with age when he spoke to the men assembled in front of him. They were the Bazaar Advisor, Tax Advisor, Auction Advisor, and his troop commanders.

“Just over two hundred from the Bone Breaker Tribe, my liege. They are assembled on the far end of Commerce Field. We evacuated the Bazaar, and all our people are now safely behind the moat,” Lord Haven answered.

Haven was a tall, lean man, in charge of the city guard and its defenses. Half of his face was scarred from saving several horses during a stable fire when he was a boy. The bravery followed him into adulthood, and he was the city’s most experienced, capable, and well-respected lord.

Commerce Field was a large grassy plain, about two fields long and a field and a half wide, located just north of Trader Town. It was where the daily auctions were conducted and had several rows of brightly colored tents, where various types of merchandise were bid on. Barters Pass ran from the north end of it down into the Upper Glen.

“Sire,” Lord Charlton, leader of the Blue Lancers, requested to be heard.

The Blue Lancers were a unit of horsemen that had been formed as guardians of the trade caravans during a particularly tough bandit season several years ago. It had been created and led by Hero Arturian, until a couple of seasons ago, when the high king had put him in charge of the raider army in the Lower Glen.          

“Bone Breakers in Hogarth Hills?” King Wilsom mumbled. “Never heard of such nonsense.”

“Sire,” Lord Charlton said again, “The last caravan to arrive reported seeing several thousand goblins marching towards Trader Town. We shouldn’t act to hastily. We should send out scouts to locate the rest of the goblins.”

“Nonsense,” King Wilsom waved his liver-spotted hand dismissively at Lord Charlton. “Take out my Blue Lancers. Wipe the goblin scum from Commerce Field!”

“Sire, the rest of us agree that scouts should be sent out first.” Lord Haven tried to persuade his king.

“Nonsense. Commerce has stopped. The Blue Lancers are supposed to protect commerce,” spittle formed on King Wilsom’s weathered lips as his mumbling voice became shrill. “Send out my Lancers! Lancers! Lancers!! Lancers!!!”

The Auction, Bazaar, and Tax Advisors looked at each other and shrugged, and then after bowing to the king, left the room.

“Filthy goblin scum,” King Wilsom thought aloud as he slumped back deep into his throne.

Within twenty minutes, Lord Charlton had his men assembled in battle formation. The dark-skinned lord rode up and down the rows of horsemen, inspecting all three ranks of six hundred men.

They looked impressive, with their armor shining brightly in the late afternoon sun and their bright blue capes flowing down the backs of their horses until it stopped a foot above the ground.

Each man in the first two rows carried a long-pointed lance in one hand, and a large blue shield with the red dragon emblem in the center with the other hand. The third row of men carried longbows or crossbows.

Lord Kragen, Charlton’s second-in-command, led the front rank. Lord Bane led the archers and crossbow men in the rear rank. Both were capable men, although Lord Bane was only twenty and lacked combat experience. Lord Charlton would take up position in the center of the middle rank.

“Today we engage the enemy on our own soil, for he’s come here to make war. While we’re a peaceful kingdom, we’re not afraid to give him what he seeks. Many of you haven’t seen combat. This is the last day that anyone will say that about you. Ride for your land, ride for your family, ride for your king. Blue Lancers forward!” Lord Charlton’s sturdy voice boomed through the ranks.

The lines of horsemen lunged forward, moving at trot towards a group of about two hundred Bone Breakers that were milling about the opposite end of the field, just where it began to drop down into the Upper Glen.

While they were the tallest of the goblin tribes, the Bone Breakers seemed easy prey for the men astride horses. When the horsemen began to advance, several yorgs started to bully the goblins into battle lines.

At a field and a half away, the horses quickened their pace. The goblins were now standing in two long ranks, facing the advancing men. Six yorgs stood behind them shouting orders.

A field away, now the horses were at a fast run, their hooves beating a steady rhythm on the hard turf. Several goblin drums began beating and the green foe let out a shout in unison.

At a half a field away, the horses sped up even faster. Many of the goblins in the front rank began edging back into the rank behind them.

“Lances down!” Lord Kragen shouted while the horsemen closed the last quarter of a field. The front row lowered their lances in unison, while their horses surged forward at maximum speed, their hooves now pounding like thunder on the ground.

Some of the goblins in the front row, sensing their impending doom, turned to flee. The largest yorg sliced the goblin at the front of the retreat in two with a giant rusty sword. This sent the remaining deserters back to their ranks.

Lord Kragen heard arrows whizzing overhead into the line of goblins, killing several of them. Then his row of horsemen ran smack into the front line of goblins. The sound of the impact was incredible as the horsemen ran over the first line of Bone Breakers and crashed into the second row.

Lord Charlton’s rank followed closely behind, lancing any goblins that had not been speared or trampled by the front row of men and horses. The ranks of goblins and men intermingled and soon broke into various combating groups.

Lord Charlton speared two goblins that were attacking one of his captains. From atop his horse, it looked as if well over half of the goblins were already dead, with only a hand full of Blue Lancer casualties.

Lord Charlton had seen two archers fall to goblin spears, and then watched a captain die in the front rank, right in front of him. He could see a few other dead men and horses nearby, but it looked like light losses.

Lord Charlton struck down another goblin and then caught sight of Lord Kragen. His horse had been killed and he was on foot, engaged in combat with three yorgs, with a fourth, the one with the big rusty sword, lying dead at his feet. Lord Charlton started towards Lord Kragen, but within moments, the man had slain all three of the large goblin leaders. The burly warrior was talented.

It didn’t take long for the scattered remnants of the goblin forces to begin to flee down the north rim of Commerce Field into Barters Pass. Lord Kragen and his men gave chase to the edge, where several of them stopped their horses and sat frozen in their saddles.

Lord Charlton rode up to the edge and also froze in place. A large pair of angry blood-shot eyes stared at him as they rose over the rim, followed by a large, fat, hairy body. The man creature that rose before him had very bushy black hair and stood fourteen feet tall.

“Giants! Giants!” the panicked cry, filled with disbelief, went up and down the ranks of men.

Several more giants began topping over the rim from Barters Pass onto Commerce Field. They were a motley crew of twenty hairy dirty beasts. The giants ranged in height from twelve to just over twenty feet tall.

Some of them carried large wooden clubs, the size of trees, while others carried large boulders about the size of horses. There were piles of stacked boulders just under the rim and out of sight, that must have been staged by the giants last night. It had been a trap!

All of the giants wore fur tunics, which were no more than a patch work of different colored animal hides, woven into a gown of sorts that covered them from shoulders to knees. Most of them also wore necklaces made from bones, probably from the same animals that had provided the materials for their clothing.

Giants were not unheard of, but were long extinct in the Glen. They lived in small groups of around twenty, called covens. This coven had come from the lowland plains, just north of Timber Lake Mountains.

Gorg, the largest giant, was the Chieftain. He carried a huge spear with a gnarled wooden handle, the metal pointed head was broad and black. The weapon would have been much too heavy for a man to carry.

Lord Charlton did not have time to consider any of this. The giants holding the boulders, including the one directly in front of him, leaned back and bowled the rocks at the horsemen.

Lord Charlton was so close to the giant at his front, it was black and wore large golden loops hanging from its ears, that he had no chance to react. His horse was literally knocked out from under him by a rolling boulder, causing it to let out an odd wheezing sound when it died.

A second later, the dark-skinned Charlton was landing hard on the turf and rolling head over heels. He came up on his behind, dazed and stunned. Where is my lance he thought? It was his last. A second giant, a tall, bald, black, skinny one, brought his wooden club down on the Blue Lancer Commander, obliterating him.

The bowling of the rocks was quite effective against horses, having knocked many lancers from their saddles while the club giants rushed in and smashed the dazed men who had fallen.

One giant, with an extremely scarred face, began jumping up and down with glee, shaking the ground while showing that he was extremely proud that he had taken out five horses with one rock.

Chieftain Gorg let out a tremendous bellow and began spearing men from their saddles with his giant weapon. When he had four warriors impaled on his spear, he stopped and shook them off. He sneered menacingly, highlighting rows of sharp yellow pointed teeth that were accented by black holes where a few were missing.

Lord Kragen, who had managed to commandeer a new horse, rallied several riders to his side and led a charge at the nearest giant, who was a thirteen-footer with a mean disposition.

Several of the riders successfully lanced the giant in the upper thigh areas, causing the creature to let out a howl before clubbing the nearest two riders. They fell from their horses, dead.

The remaining riders turned to attack again, but their charge was interrupted when Chieftain Gorg smashed thru them. Lord Kragen turned just in time to pierce the giant Chieftain with his lance, which Gorg responded to by shoving his spear straight thru Lord Kragen’s chest.

Chieftain Gorg picked the hapless man up from off his horse with the huge spear and slung him into the air. He flew some thirty feet and crashed to the ground in a crumpled heap.

The remaining three attacking riders turned to flee, but became sport for the rock throwing giants who began tossing boulders at them. Soon all were crushed, each direct hit causing gleeful celebratory screams from the rock throwers.

The line of horse archers tried to support the lance warriors, scoring several hits on the enemy. The arrows caused mostly minor injuries, although one had struck an eyeball, causing the wounded giant to run in circles screaming in pain.

This angered the club giants, who quickly rushed forward swinging their mighty wooden clubs to and fro, wreaking havoc on the horse archers. Lord Bane and several of them sat firing until the end, but they were no match for the mighty angry giants who quickly overwhelmed them.

It took the giants a few more minutes to mop up the scattered men that tried to flee, but soon, all six hundred Blue Lancers were dead or dying. The fight with the giants had lasted less than five minutes.

Chieftain Gorg scratched his belly where he had been lanced, and then let out another loud bellow. As if in response, an older gray-haired giant, called Nash, came over the rim onto Commerce Field. He was pulling a large wooden cart.

The other giants looked about, and then began collecting the bodies of both men and horses. They loaded the dead onto the huge cart, and once that was full, they slung more dead over their shoulders.

Still, it took them three trips to clear the field, but they knew that they would eat well tonight, as they headed back down into Barters Pass. Back at the Trader Town palace, the advisors followed Lord Haven into the throne room.

“They’re all dead sire!” Lord Haven blurted out.

“Good, I hate those filthy wretched green scum,” King Wilsom cackled.

“No, my king, the Blue Lancers are dead. They were ambushed by a coven of giants,” Lord Haven clarified, then asked, “What’re we to do?”

“Giants? Nonsense! King Hogarth drove the giants from these very hills centuries ago. Giants? Nonsense. I know exactly what to do. We’ll drive them from the hills. Call up my Blue Lancers!” King Wilsom continued to mumble, now incoherently, his mind clearly gone.

“My king?” the Tax Advisor questioned.

An odd, almost calm look overcame Lord Haven’s face, as he made a decision, and called out for the king’s personal aid. “Take King Wilsom to his private quarters and make him comfortable, but keep him there.”

Lord Haven turned to the Trader Town advisors and said, “I’m assuming control of the city’s defenses. If we survive this, we can appoint a new king later, but now we must prepare to defend ourselves. If anyone disagrees with my decision to relieve King Wilsom, speak now. If not, then I expect you to go and prepare for the upcoming battle. First, we must pull the bridges from the moat and then prepare the catapult and the spear gun towers.”

The advisors voiced no complaint, but instead seemed quite happy to have Lord Haven take control. They rushed from the room, knowing that they had much to do.

Lord Haven climbed the stairway to the rooftop of the king’s palace. It was actually more of a small stone fortress than a palace, sitting in the center of Trader Town. It was the oldest and the largest building in the city.

When the tall, lanky lord reached the roof, he could see that Trader Town was bustling below. Several men were pulling on a large handle at the North Bridge.

The handle was attached to a spool that pulled the chains in, which in turn pulled the bridge in that spanned the moat. It was an advanced design, created by King Wilsom in his younger years. Men were also starting the process on the South, East, and West Bridges.

Each bridge was guarded by two ten-foot stone towers that sat just inside the city, overlooking the brackish water in the moat. Archers were forming on those positions, as well as atop the two twenty-foot stone towers near the palace.

Men were setting up a catapult on one of the larger towers and a large wooden ballista, or spear gun, on the other. He could see more warriors placing the giant spears it fired near the weapon. Those will get the giant’s attention, Lord Haven thought to himself.

Next, he looked towards a long wooden building used as the food storehouse. People were taking food supplies from there, carrying them to the smaller buildings. The only other large building was the wooden stable, which was eerily quiet.

Lord Haven sighed. I’ve lost many friends today. Lord Charlton and I grew up together. We were like brothers. No time for sorrow now, he thought, and turned his attention to the moat. The city had no outer wall, to enhance their image as a place of commerce.

The moat itself surrounded the entire city and was thirty feet wide. The water was a murky black with a thick mossy green scum that covered the surface. What concerned Lord Haven was the depth.

It was nearly twenty feet deep in some spots, but only twelve in others. He feared that it wouldn’t take the giants long to locate these shallow spots and simply walk into the city.

A bright flash of orange light erupted next to Lord Haven, momentarily blinding him.

“Cobborath!” Lord Haven exclaimed, startled by the sudden appearance of the wizard right beside him.

“Your concerns are well placed young lord, the moat is your weak spot,” the red/blue wizard said as if reading Lord Haven’s mind.

Lord Haven did not speak, but just stared at the dual-colored wizard, who had appeared to have aged some twenty years since he had last saw him, only just a year ago.

"I am here to shore up your defenses,” the red/blue wizard stated, and began to mutter an incantation.

Soon the water in the moat began to bubble and steam, and . . . move. It began to flow, slowly at first towards the north corner, and then faster as it travelled from corner to corner.

The moat had become a black, boiling, steamy, swirl of racing water! The wizard reached out a bony finger and touched Haven on the forehead, which seemed to complete the spell.

“That should keep the giants at bay, at least for a while,” Cobborath advised. “I tied the spell to you, and when you die, so shall it.”

“What should we do about the giants? Can we kill them?” Lord Haven finally managed to speak a full sentence for the first time since the arrival of the bizarre looking magician king.

“They’ll fear the rushing water, so instead of crossing it, they’ll bombard the city with rocks. Then the goblins will come. You must hit them with whoever is left, every time that they try to enter the city. If you manage to push them out, then the bombardments will start again. That’ll buy time,” the sorcerer replied, not really answering Lord Haven’s question.

“Do you really think that we can keep them out of Trader Town?” the tall lord asked doubtfully.

“No,” the wizard said. “Trader Town will fall. King Nalop of the Bone Breaker Tribe will sit in the throne of Trader Town. What High King Tronin needs from you is time. The alarm has already been sounded in the Lower Glen, but it’ll take time to raise an army to defend the southern kingdoms.”

“I understand, but can we at least get the citizens of Trader Town out?” Lord haven asked, hopefully.

“A few days ago a messenger warned King Wilsom and asked him to send the women and children south,” Cobborath said, hesitating as he looked at Haven’s confused face. “Oh, that’s unfortunate. He didn’t share that information with any of you.”

“There must still be time,” Lord Haven insisted, although the sounds of boo gah drums from every direction signaled that there was not.

“It’s too late. Bone Breaker encampments already surround the city. Arm everyone to fight. Fight as if the survival of man in the Glen depends upon it, because it does. We need time Lord Haven. Give it to us!”

With an orange flash, the wizard was gone. Lord Haven looked out at his city. I’ll give you all the time that you need, and just maybe the odd wizard is wrong. At least, I hope so.