On Hortus, the two stat points that native humans have on a level up are free to assign, giving them a distinct advantage. The ability to assign stats to any attribute makes humans both more adaptable and unpredictable. The advantage becomes significantly less pronounced when organizing and supplying armies. It is difficult to produce standard armor for a wide spectrum of combat styles. In contrast, Elves receive one of their stat points automatically assigned at each level. The point is applied to wisdom and dexterity at alternating levels. These stats are usually best suited to either caster or archer roles. This preference for ranged classes makes their forces vulnerable to close contact, but the commanders can field troops much more easily.

  The adoption of “custodial races” into their military force has supplied them with legions of foot soldiers to act as a front line so the elves can safely kill from the backlines.

  -Exert from a Traveler’s combat report for forces on Hortus

  Teroth looks down at the papers covering his desk and sighs in resignation. Five months ago, he had been on the front lines in the fight against the encroaching human forces. His post was a rune fort that acted as a forward operating base and outpost. The post wasn’t as well fortified as one of the major cities, but it was close. His unit was composed mostly of archers, with a dual mage commander and a squad of eagle riders attached. He’d woken up day after day behind walls, aching and wondering if today would be the day he would die.

  At first, Teroth was stationed behind stone walls. As the war progressed was determined that maintenance of the walls would be impossible under the relentless assaults of the humans, streaming from the south, seeking to chip away at what little is left of the elven defensive lines before the butcher and his men came to destroy everything. Trenches were dug and trees cut to make crude walls for elven archers to shoot from.

  Elven command was tight on intel. At the mere mention that Hercules was thinking about attacking their position, elven command would have desertions. Teroth was a lieutenant, high enough to hear the worst of the stories but low enough to not be able to do anything about his command’s position in the war. He’d heard of one extreme case of an outpost that had collapsed when Hercules was thought to go south, to cut off the port trade. Most of the human forces were too disorganized to take on well-fortified areas, but their butcher was able to take on even the toughest fortifications with ease.

  Unable to contain the human forces’ main push, elven high command changed their tactics, switched to raids, and cut off supplies. Elven eagle riders targeted any caravans foolish enough to venture north, while elven farms at risk of being raided by human forces were either relieved of anything that could be carried or burned to deny the humans their use. Despite the half-god’s undefeatable status, their human adversary would not be able to hold anything they took without supplies. The plan was working at one point, but then the elven city lords hoarded food, despite orders from military command to spread resources across the countryside. Months of slowly whittling away at caravans all undone in a few hours, when the elven city full of fresh supplies was captured. The morale loss was too great, and many elves fled their post.

  It didn’t help that their captain had commanded that any elf who approached their fort was to be shot on site. Their commander felt that anyone running to them was fleeing the front line, and killing those fleeing would inspire soldiers to stand their ground and fight. It worked too, just not how elven high command had hoped. Teroth never discovered who killed his commanding officer, but he quickly countermanded the order for fear of getting shanked himself. He didn’t agree with the order to begin with, but with low morale and one successful mutiny, he committed all his energy to keeping his post together.

  The war never truly ended, but it did slow down. When it did, they were ordered to vacate the fort and return home. After so long, he’d hoped to just return to some semblance of a normal life, but everyone was looking to finger who had led to the great defeat of the elven empire. The blame couldn’t be found on any one person, too much of their higher command had died on the front line, but that didn’t stop the political headhunting.

  Teroth was put under court-martial. He was nowhere near high enough to be blamed for the loss of any battle, but a few of the lords piled on the first opportunity placed in front of them to make it stick. In the end, the death of the politically connected dual mage proved to be too much for him to escape, and he was stationed in a post out of the way to never see society again.

  The new posting hadn’t been too bad. He had a few young elven archers who were amiable and a bunch of goblins that were only mildly annoying. Getting goblins to follow orders was like trying to teach fish to swim on a leash. He’d been irritated at first, as the years of discipline that were ingrained in him, the order that made up the fabric of elven society, was ignored by the little green shits. In the end, he realized he wasn’t expected to accomplish anything.

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  No enemies would attack his fort, and nothing he did would benefit the elven imperium, so none of what he did mattered. The post had little strategic value and was probably safer than any other posting. He stayed in the fort away from the deadly lizards, kept the goblins from burning the place down, and made his reports. Without the death lizards, it was practically a vacation.

  Then the magi came. Teroth knew the sailors who resupplied his outpost well. With little social interaction on the island, any newcomers were an opportunity to get news and socialize. Most newcomers were welcome, in Teroth’s opinion, unless they were magi.

  When they pulled up on their boat, he knew they would be in trouble. They all had an air of importance about them from the moment they arrived. Even their apprentice practically looked down her nose at him. Over the years, his force had grown to three elves and eight goblins under his command. Two of the elves were archers, and the last was a low-tier water mage of no standing. They immediately wanted to pull three goblins and the only elf mage under his command to trek off into the woods, and refused to explain what they were on the island to do.

  Teroth had been exasperated at the way he was treated by the newcomers, but he let none of it show. He could’ve asked, demanded, pleaded, or blackmailed the group, but in the end, it would’ve accomplished nothing except bringing trouble on his head. They were magi, and he was just an archer; in elven society, they were his superiors. As much as Teroth hated magi, the societal norms were ingrained too deeply in him for him to ever take any action.

  So, of course, when none of them came back, except the young apprentice, he was on edge. She’d said it was a human, but he doubted any but the butcher himself could kill a team of archmagi so thoroughly. Still, he wasn’t a fool, so he sent out a team of two goblins to recon. Goblins were known to have the capacity to be good scouts, but he doubted anyone of his goblins would be able to sneak up on their foe.

  He'd sent another two goblins out to the campsite to report back whatever their findings were. He’d also sent one of his elves to tail them in case the butcher got a goblin-brained idea to swim into the ocean, to make his way to Teroth’s island home.

  Teroth rereads the short report again. It told a story about a human who had barely any water magic and killed multiple goblins. While he’d been concerned at first, each time he reread the report, he became more confused. The human was obviously unskilled and not a credible threat, yet what was he doing out here?

  He still believed that the apprentice had felt she could get away with killing her masters, but why’d she want the human so badly? Maybe it was a political move, a plant to blame the catastrophe on, or to cover up any involvement of her accomplice. If she’d a human stowed away, killed the master, and then lost control of him...

  He has to admit it, the lie she spun isn’t a bad story on paper, but one look at the man described in the report, and her whole story fell apart. Maybe she planned to kill him? The outpost commander shakes his head. Politics has never been his strongest skill; the only thing he ever trusted was his bow. If he had any skill in politics, he never would have ended up on the island in this backwater post, but now, he’s caught in the middle of the plots of others, in deep waters without a clue of where to swim.

  Just to be safe, Teroth had issued an order that no one else was to leave the fortress. The walls should ward off a rogue human, and Teroth doesn’t want to chance another death by sending more troops out to patrol. He is already missing two goblins, but knowing them, they might have gotten lost and fallen asleep on the beach; it happened before. If he‘s lucky, one of the death lizards would kill the human while he slept.

  The apprentice had become more demanding, and she was losing patience with the fa?ade that she was sequestered in a room for her own protection. She demanded to have updates, demanded to wander the base, and if she had her way, she’d be running the entire fort. The apprentice and he know she’s a prisoner, but they both pretended she wasn’t to prevent direct confrontation.

  If he doesn’t act soon, she’ll turn his troops against him. He assigned one of the younger elven archers to watch her and make sure she didn’t get into any trouble. He’s a good kid, but she is the first pretty woman he’s seen in months, with a pretty face and a mind honed in court manipulation. Teroth knows the young elven mage will eat the elven archer alive if he doesn’t decide how to handle this debacle soon.

  A goblin runs into the room and bows awkwardly.

  He tried to teach them to salute, which resulted in each of them making their own salute on the spot instead of trying to copy him. After another week of correcting them, he shrugged and decided it was good enough for a backwater island. The school taught the elves were there to shepherd the other races to find order. Without the elves’ guidance, goblins and the other custodial races would fall into the chaos found in human kingdoms. He was taught they were put on the planet to rule and guide the other races, but he was starting to have his doubts the goblins could be shepherded. Somehow the more he instructed them, the further away they were from what he was trying to teach them.

  “Elven magic lady is coming.”

  Teroth nods, and the goblin scurries away.

  Teroth firms his resolve as he knows what he must do, even if it goes against what he wants.