Limpalak clenched his spear between his hands and hugged it to his chest, his heart attempting to beat itself out of his torso and into his arms. Lining the wall to his back were twenty more militia, each cradling their own weapons. Some were lucky enough to have swords, but most only had a spear, and a not-so-small portion of those spears were nothing more than a length of sharpened wood.

  But it didn't matter.

  Limpalak would expect many of them to pick up rocks to fight if they had to, and he counted himself among that number. He even had a satchel of fist-sized stones on his hip if needed. He didn't know when he might need them or in what situation he would use them, but he had them nonetheless. Always gotta be prepared. I lived by that motto, and I'll die by it, even if the bag is getting kinda heavy.

  "Be still," Limpalak said into their union. "A group is about to pass." A moment or two later, the muffled sound of dozens of feet slapping against the street echoed into their alley. Holding his breath and trying to push himself into the wall and become one with it, Limpalak watched distorted shadows move along the street.

  He waited for a second, then poked his head around the corner and saw that the street was empty as far as he could see through the thick fog. Typically, not seeing them would be a reassurance, but he was guessing that he was seeing a far too short distance of fifteen feet at best.

  Given how this cursed night was going, he was probably seeing less than ten feet… Maybe? Shit, I can't tell. Which just went to show how bad the fog was that he couldn't put his sight to a distance. Really, by the time you saw or heard anyone, they were already on top of you. Never seen fog this thick in Southtown before. What is going on?

  Limpalak's night, and he supposed everyone who remained in the city, was not going great. He had originally been stationed with the Sixth Cohort to defend the Eastern Docks of the Third Ring, but that didn't last long. As the walls came down at sunset, the goblins boiled out of hidden tunnels, and the combined assault from within and without was too much.

  Their established perimeter fractured, and everyone was strewed in every direction. Limpalak believed the cohort had formed up around some warehouses in the heart of the district, but his attempts to reach them were quickly discarded.

  The task was basically impossible, as he would swear that rivers of goblins blocked his path to them at every turn. He wanted to regroup with the cohort, but he wouldn't die pointlessly to do so.

  Given no other viable choice, Limpalak crept his way northwest across the city, heading toward the gate to the Second Ring. Along the way, he attacked goblins when he could, ran from the groups too large to fight, and ended up gathering and losing a few dozen people along the way. No one else had a better plan, and heading north was as good of a choice as any.

  Sadly, long before Limpalak and the others reached the gate placed into the outer second ring wall, they found a massive breach in the stone structure. What had happened to the wall was obvious, as the gigantic trench in the ground was hard to miss, even in the fog. On the bright side, the broken walls and ground provided plenty of cover for them to slip through the gap, even as the goblins used the trench themselves to move deeper into the city.

  A few blocks later, as they turned east, they ended up in the crafting section of the city and could hear the muffled screams and sounds of nearby fighting, though telling a direction was proving hard. He might not know where the battle was, but he was pretty sure he knew who did know. And how to get there.

  "We're gonna move along the wall and follow them," Limpalak sent to those behind him.

  "Why not go the other way?" Whined Mathious, "For all we know, they be mov'an to gather with friends."

  "They probably are," Stated Limpalak. "But on their other side should be someone we could call a friend. I don't know about you, but I'm bloody tired of running about, constantly nervous about what's around the corner. Holding a barricade seems far better." His thoughts received appreciation from many, as their nerves were frayed after a few hours of moving through the dark and murky streets. Doing this for the rest of the night seemed like torture.

  "Are you stupid!?" Mathious shrieked mentally, as he was far too cowardly to let any noise pass his lips. "That is where you are planning to go? Can't you see the city is lost? This isn't the time to be playing a hero; this is the time to get out while the getting is good!"

  Turning to the gaunt, sickly man, Limpalak looked into his sunken eyes and said in a quiet hiss, "If that is how you feel, you are on your own. But I will not be a coward who flees his home when it is attacked. But if you feel the need to run, make damn sure I never find you, as it will be the last day of your pathetic life." The weak willed man shrunk back from the deadly serious tone in Limpalak's voice, his eyes flicking to everything and nothing around them.

  Snorting in contempt and turning, Limpalak moved to the edge of the alley again before sending into the union, "Let's go. Remember, stick to the walls."

  They had hardly moved a couple hundred feet down the road before Limpalak heard a rough human voice echoing down the street. "Form up, gents! 'Nother bands on our doorstep!"

  In response to the shouting, the creatures before them screeched in delight and rushed forward. The sound of their feet moved quickly away, but Limpalak didn't move as he waited for a few seconds. It wasn't until the ambient sounds of fighting picked up and the screams sounded that he finally gave the order, "Spread out."

  Following his own words, Limpalak moved to step from the comforting embrace of the wall, only pausing a moment with his foot hanging in the air before finishing his movement to move away from the storefront. This was not the first time he had led an attack on the rear of a goblin group, but every time he stepped forward to attack, the fear he felt gripping his heart wasn't getting easier to handle.

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  So far, he had been able to push through it… but wasn't sure how long he would be able to keep it up. And Until the moment came when he couldn't force himself to step away from a wall, he would keep pushing forward, acting in ways that would allow him to sleep at night.

  "Hurry up and get into position!" Limpalak ordered before waiting nervously, monitoring the others through the union, and suddenly, the beat of the distant drums filled the air. And he looked around, searching for the threat he felt hanging over his head. But no matter how hard he searched, he found nothing.

  It was only when he felt his thrown-together squad get into position that he was finally pulled out of his sudden surge of fear and got back on task. "Okay, advance." At the signal, the eighteen men and two women moved into a jog. It wasn't as synchronized and crisp as the legionaries, but it was pretty good, considering most of those in the group left the legions three or more decades ago, and the rest still had a few more years before they had to sign up.

  The street was a minor one, putting it a little more than fifteen feet wide, but even with the small size, the mass of shadowy goblins that was moving before them looked massive. And by the hollow shouts of fear and desperation echoing from the defenders of the barricade, they agreed.

  No one spoke as they moved through the muggy cold air, and everyone timed to walk as softly as possible, though Mathious somehow seemed to find rocks to kick with every step. Despite their less-than-skilled movements, Limpalak and the others were able to make it just out of the reach of their spears from the rear line of the goblins.

  As was typical, the moment Limpalak started to think they could attack without anyone noticing, the defenders let out a collective groan of despair. At the sound, Limpalak could clearly see the movement of heads and torsos from both attackers and defenders as they turned to look at them, outlining themselves against the glow of the nearby lanterns.

  He could even see the faces of the closest goblins twisted into something that should be close to anticipation, though he couldn't be sure. Before anyone could process the fact their shadowy forms were significantly bigger than a goblin should be, Limpalak issued the command they were all waiting for, "Charge!"

  Screams tore from the militias' throats, and they lunged forward, covering the last of the distance with their spears lowered. Before the nearby goblins could properly turn and face him, Limpalak buried his spear tip into the side of one of the little bastards. It was a scene that was playing out nearly identically all along the street.

  In response to the sudden attack, and now that the light from the defender's torches and lanterns illuminated them enough to show they were human, a cheer of elation mixed with wrath rose from the defenders. At that moment, the defenders became the attackers as they charged down from their defenses to smash into the trapped goblins. The creatures jerked one way and then the other as they were gripped tightly by fear and indecision at their circumstances, making it impossible for a coordinated response to appear.

  That was all fine and dandy for Limpalak, as it meant that it was easier to kill them. Pulling out his spear from one goblin's lower back, he thrust it into the upper chest of another. And then a leg, and the guts, and an arm, and a half dozen other thrusts into bodies, until he stopped his next strike halfway through the motion and placed his spear butt onto the ground, leaning on the shaft.

  All around him, others were finishing off the whimpering and groaning goblins and tending to minor wounds. An old man well past his prime walked up to Limpalak, an old centurion helm on his head and bracers on his arms with a sheathed gladius on his hip, but more than the gear, what drew the attention would be the air of authority about him. "'Re you in command of this squad?" The man asked Limpalak.

  Nodding his head wearily, Limpalak gasped, “Yeah… I guess that would be me."

  The older man gave him a once-over before grunting and reaching out with his right arm. Mirroring the gesture, Limpalak tightly grasped the other man's forearm despite how his hand wanted nothing more than to flop around like a limp rag. Giving a quick pump of the arm, the older man said, "Name's Harkbor. And thanks for the assistance. I'm not sure we could have made it through that scuffle without your help."

  Looking at the defenses, which were a good seven feet tall, and how organized this group appeared, Limpalak scoffed in rejection of the statement. "I'm Limpalak. And you would have held your people together and fought them off just fine. I haven't seen many groups like yours outside the legionaries."

  The old man nodded, accepting his words as truth, "Perhaps, but we would have suffered losses and not held the next wave. Where are you coming from, by the way? I thought all the groups south and west of us were pushed back an hour ago."

  Giving an exhausted sigh and looking up at the moon hanging in the middle of the stars, Limpalak couldn't believe that it had only been a matter of hours since the fall of the outer wall. Running his bloody hand through his hair, he started speaking, "Yeah, I wasn't stationed anywhere near here. I was initially guarding the flank of the Sixth Cohort's Third Century as they defended one of the main streets leading to the Western Docks in the Third Ring. But whatever hit them smashed their lines, and it became a scramble. My barricade had goblins on both sides, and we had to charge our frontal attackers and fight through them before scattering. I tried reconnecting with the cohort but gave up when it became clear goblins were everywhere over there. Since then, I have been trying to move north, picking up the people I find and seeking to link up with anyone."

  "Well," Harkbor said, a smile spreading on his wrinkled face, "I'll be happy for the reinforcements."

  Limpalak felt a surge of relief at his words, giving a relieved chuckle and nodding in acceptance. He didn't want to be in command of anything… but in the back of his mind, he wondered how long it would be before he would have to run again.

  "Get back on the barricade!" Harkbor shouted, drawing everyone's attention, "We all know another band is coming!" Turning to follow the order, Limpalak froze as he felt the deaths of three of those in his union

  Stunned at the sudden deaths, it took him a moment to process the event — time in which another person died — before he turned and shouted, "Attack!" at the top of his lungs. Three figures wearing long black hooded cloaks were standing at the back of the humans, long curved swords in their hands.

  With graceful gestures filled with contempt, the figures gracefully swung their swords, and three more people dropped. Then, without warning, a flood of goblins burst out of the fog, letting out bloodthirsty screams filled with wild abandon.

  "Retreat! Get back to the barricade! Retre—

  As the gruff voice abruptly cut off, Limpalak looked to the side, seeing Harkbor clutching a small shaft in his upper right chest, blood starting to dribble down his chin. Like Limpalak's look was a signal, the old man collapsed to the side as another shaft hit his thigh, ripping it out from under him. Along with the collapsing man, the coordination of the defenders fell apart as it became everyone for themselves.

  In the face of this sudden attack, it was a death sentence to stand and fight. They needed to regroup, but it couldn't be here. Limpalak forced his slow thoughts to move faster as he shuffled to the side, "We need to get to an alley! We need to… Huh?" Looking down, Limpalak saw Mathious standing next to him, having planted a dagger into his stomach.

  "That's what you get for your threats, bitc— Gaugh! Ge' aw' 'om mah'!"

  Having grabbed hold of his wrist to keep Mathious in place, Limpalak pulled back the rock he drew from his satchel to break the traitor's jaw along with his few remaining teeth for another hit. Bringing his arm back to smash in his skull, the smaller man had a sudden burst of strength. His arms thrust into Limpalak's chest, causing him to take a step back and stumble over a body.

  As he fell, he could see and feel the deaths of those around him, but blissfully, it all stopped as he landed, the world going black with a spike of pain in his head.