Aleria jolted awake, her slumber shattered by the distant sounds of frantic shouting and anguished screams. She bolted upright in her narrow cot, heart pounding as the fog of sleep rapidly burned away.
It took her a few precious heartbeats to get her bearings, to recognize the familiar confines of her cramped quarters in the clinic. But the noises filtering in from outside were unmistakable - shrill cries of panic and alarm.
Somewhere out in Last Gate, something was terribly, dreadfully wrong.
Aleria threw off her thin coverlet, bare feet hitting the rough wooden floor as she surged out of bed. She moved with an urgency born from bitter experience, every fibre of her being thrumming with the instincts drilled into her across a hundred bloodied battlefields.
Through the small window set high in the wall, she could see the inky darkness of night cloaking the town. But the gloom was broken by the telltale flicker of flames, a faint orange glow painting the underside of the low-hanging clouds in lurid hues.
A fire, then - and judging by the rising cacophony of panicked voices, it was rapidly spiralling out of control. Aleria's jaw clenched grimly as she hurriedly threw on her clothes, shrugging into a loose linen shirt and breeches with practised efficiency.
No sooner had she tugged her boots on than a fresh wave of screams tore through the night, this one closer and more piercing than before. Aleria didn't hesitate a moment longer, snatching up her battered healer's satchel from where it hung on a peg by the door.
She rushed out into the clinic's dimly lit main chamber, feet carrying her swiftly towards the exit. Her heart hammered in her throat as the reality of the situation took hold - a raging fire in the heart of Last Gate, a town composed primarily of kindling.
If the blaze wasn't brought swiftly under control, it could swallow the entire settlement in a ravenous conflagration. Aleria's steps quickened as she reached for the door latch, a grim sense of purpose settling over her features.
As Aleria stepped out into the dim street, the glow of flames licking hungrily at the eastern edge of town immediately assaulted her senses. Tendrils of smoke coiled through the night air, carrying the acrid stench of smouldering timber and thatch.
People were already spilling from their homes, as they rushed to aid their neighbours. But even over the frantic shouts and cries, Aleria's well-trained ears caught an unmistakable sound - the guttural snarls and high-pitched shrieks of creatures distinctly inhuman.
Her blood turned to ice in her veins as those familiar noises cut through the clamour. Goblins. She'd heard their raucous calls too many times amidst the carnage of the battlefield not to recognize them instantly.
Figures darted through the haze of smoke, silhouettes contorted into grotesque, misshapen forms. Goblins, there could be no doubt - and from the sounds of it, a raiding party.
The icy tendrils of dread coiling in her gut were swiftly replaced by a searing flare of rage. Aleria's knuckles went white as her fingers curled into fists. For the span of a heartbeat, a different part of her stirred - the part that had once reveled in slaughter, of these beasts.
Aleria's gaze swept the chaos unfolding in the street, her eyes narrowing as she caught sight of Haddy poking her head out from her cottage door, concern etched across her plump features. Their eyes met, and in that fleeting instant Aleria conveyed a silent command with a sharp jerk of her chin.
Get inside. Now.
Haddy seemed to hesitate for the briefest of moments before common sense prevailed. She bobbed her head in a jerky nod and retreated back within the dubious safety of her home, the door swinging shut behind her.
Squaring her shoulders, Aleria turned her attention outwards once more, assessing the pandemonium rippling through the streets with a critical eye. The residents were rushing about, clutching makeshift pails and buckets as the dread realisation of the growing blaze set in.
But the fires were the least of their concerns at present.
"Listen to me!" Aleria's voice cut through the din like a blade, ringing with a tone of undeniable authority that brooked no argument. "Get back inside your homes and barricade the doors and windows!"
A few startled faces swivelled towards her, wide eyes reflecting a kaleidoscope of fear and confusion in the flickering orange glare. Aleria pressed on, each word clipped with urgency.
"There are goblins in the town - this is an attack, not some accident! Unless you can fight, stay out of the streets until we can repel them!"
The weight of her proclamation seemed to hit home in a ripple effect, the murmurs swelling to panicked cries as realisation set in. Aleria scanned the crowd until her gaze settled on a young man she recognized, one of the town militia.
"You!" She barked, the sharp edge to her voice snapping his head around. "Get to the garrison and raise the alarm! Tell them we're under attack from goblins striking from the east!"
For a heartbeat the militiaman looked as though he might protest, his expression one of abject terror. But then his jaw set in a grim line, and he gave a terse nod before whirling on his heel and bolting down the street westward towards the garrison.
Aleria watched him go, her fingers tightening around the worn strap of her healer's satchel as the sounds of snarling grew closer...
She had no choice - it would take too much time for the militiaman to warn the garrison and for Bernard to muster a defensive force. Even if this was a small raiding party, they would be able to do far too much damage if left unchecked. Aleria needed to thin their numbers as much as she could herself.
With a grim set to her jaw, she let her healer's satchel slip from her fingers, the worn leather bag thumping against the hard-packed dirt street. She spared it a fleeting glance, eyes glinting with resolve in the macabre glow of the burgeoning fires.
Then Aleria turned and broke into a sprint, her boots kicking up puffs of dust as she charged headlong into the billowing plumes of acrid smoke coiling through the night air. Her auburn hair whipped behind her, a crimson banner flaring in the flickering light cast by the ravenous flames.
Harsh cries and guttural snarls grew louder with every stride, the sounds of inhuman bloodlust swelling around her. Aleria grit her teeth, emerald eyes narrowing to slits as she plunged deeper into the haze, the writhing shadows seeming to coalesce into twisted, bestial forms.
Aleria's vision locked onto the first twisted form ahead of her - a wiry goblin thing nearly half the height of a man, its features elongated into a grotesque parody of sentience. Beady black eyes glinted with feral cunning as it caught sight of her charge.
With a shrill screech, the goblin broke into a loping run, all whipcord muscle and bared fangs as it rushed to meet Aleria head-on. Its gnarled hands clutched a jagged blade, the rusted metal glinting dully in the fire-glow.
Aleria didn't break stride, her lips peeling back in a snarl as her fingers flexed. A flicker of verdant energy sparked around her fingertips, coalescing into a hazy emerald mist that swirled in an intricate weave.
Then, with a deft twitch of her wrist, the vaporous tendrils solidified into a wickedly curved obsidian blade. It hung in the air for a scant heartbeat before her hand snapped closed around the hilt, trailing wisps of that eerie green aura.
The goblin was nearly upon her, its slavering jaws gaping wide as it raised its own notched weapon high. Aleria met the attack head-on, her form blurring with preternatural swiftness as she parried the vicious downswing.
Their blades met with a discordant shriek of steel grating on obsidian, the goblin's momentum carrying it forward into Aleria's guard. Her free hand whipped out, fingers splayed as they connected with the creature's sternum.
The explosive burst of her strike battering the goblin like a sledgehammer blow. It went hurtling backwards with a strangled yelp, limbs flailing as it slammed into the unforgiving ground.
Aleria surged forward without hesitation, her blade leading in a wicked arc. The goblin had barely started scrambling upright when the edge opened a crimson furrow across its abdomen, slicing through flesh and muscle with consummate ease.
A shriek of pure agony rent the air as the creature clutched at the grievous wound with gnarled fingers. But it was already too late - thick ropes of viscous black ichor were spilling forth in alarming volumes, the gouts of tainted blood seeming to arc towards Aleria of their own volition.
The verdant mist coiling around her blade drank deep of the vile essence, each droplet greedily consumed by the ephemeral fog, and feeding the lifeforce back into its wielder. Within moments, the goblin's shrieks had devolved into a gurgling death rattle as it slumped to the dirt, its corrupted lifeblood draining away with unnatural swiftness.
Aleria didn't linger over the swiftly cooling corpse. Her gaze was already sweeping the chaos, eyes narrowed to slits as she sought her next target amidst the plumes of smoke and dancing shadows.
Aleria surged down the street, carving wicked arcs through the haze. Two more goblins fell before her in rapid succession, one collapsing with its throat laid open, the other crumpling as she buried her blade deep in its chest.
She ripped her sword free with a vicious tug, its surface absorbing the ichor and glinting in the fire-glow as the creature's death rattle faded to silence.
That's when she caught sight of the man sprawled in the dirt a few yards away, his face twisted into a rictus of agony. A trail of blood snaked out from beneath his torso, far too much for any wound to be considered minor.
A goblin crouched over him, leering with feral glee as it raised a serrated blade high. The man's hands scrabbled weakly at the dirt, a pathetic attempt to drag himself away from his impending death.
Aleria moved without conscious thought, her form blurring with unnatural swiftness. One heartbeat the goblin was poised for the killing blow, and the next Aleria had cleaved through its scrawny neck in a single fluid strike.
Its misshapen head tumbled free, bouncing across the hard-packed earth with a sickening thud. The body crumpled in a limp heap, black blood gushing from the ragged stump.
Aleria didn't spare the corpse a second glance. She dropped to one knee beside the grievously wounded man, her free hand already pulsing with lambent energy.
With deft motions, she rolled him onto his back, her verdant aura swirling around her fingertips. She could sense the wound now - a deep puncture in his abdomen, undoubtedly from the wicked goblin blade.
Wasting no time, Aleria pressed her palm against the ragged injury, willing her power to suffuse his battered form. Threads of emerald light seeped into the wound, knitting together torn flesh and staunching the flow of blood.
It was a hasty healing at best, but it would have to suffice for now. Aleria couldn't linger - every moment she delayed meant more lives at risk.
As the last vestiges of her healing mana faded, she caught the distant peal of the garrison's alarm bell ringing through the night. Her jaw clenched grimly as she rose to her feet, sparing one last glance at the man's battered form.
If he had any wits about him, he would seek shelter and allow her patchwork to keep him alive until proper treatment could be rendered. For now, Aleria had to press the attack before the raiders could sow any more chaos...
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