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Dragon Stories Part II
by
Kevin B. Duxbury
A Time of Sorrow
It was a dismal time for the land. Once again evil
had shed its darkness, and the inhabitants of the
island found themselves abducted into slavery. This
time, it was at the hand of an evil knight named
Dreadtar and was carried out by his Dark Army. He
was an enormous man, bearing huge muscular arms and
a broad chest. When he walked, it was as though the
earth trembled with every step.
None had ever
seen his face, for it was encased in an
intimidating helm decorated with the teeth and
horns of some unfortunate creature. His soul
piercing eyes stared eerily through the narrow slit
of his helm. His chest was encased in a subdued
breast plate formed to complement his build, while
his legs and feet were covered with leather
trousers, armored plates, and massive boots. His
arms were bare with the exception of armored plates
on each wrist. He took pleasure in the stares he
would receive whenever he crossed his enormous arms
and flexed his muscles. Across his back he had
sheathed a long two-handed sword. Its long, subdued
blade had killed many in the hands of Dreadtar.
Alone, Dreadtar was a dangerous and threatening
foe, and yet the company he kept made him all the
more dangerous. Where ever Dreadtar went, the red
dragon went.
Reedex was a
large red dragon, and his cold, evil heart made him
a dangerous enemy. He was an extremely intelligent
dragon and very capable of using magic, but he saw
no point in wasting time with spells when flesh
could be torn from bone so easily. The sight of his
blood-red hide and enormous size put fear into the
hearts of most. And for those few in the past who
had challenged him, they were met with fierce
teeth, razor sharp claws, enormous wings, and no
mercy. To the demihumans of the land, all seemed
lost. No one, they thought, could ever challenge
these two.
“Report!” Dreadtar ordered.
He sat
authoritatively in his throne which had been
forcibly carved by the dwarves to bear skulls and
monsters. Surrounding the evil knight were the
elegantly carved walls of what had once been a
dwarven church, but had been boldly converted to
serve as his throne room. Reedex lay lazily behind
the throne, his head and tail wrapping around its
base.
“My lord,” a
voice broke the silence.
Barter,
Dreadtar’s highest ranking officer, spoke first. In
many ways his armor and mannerisms resembled that
of Dreadtar himself, and although much smaller than
Reedex, Barter also kept a red dragon for a
companion. There were many jokes among the ranks of
the foot soldiers relating to Barter as being the
“wanna-be-Dreadtar.” Nevertheless, Barter was
Dreadtar’s most loyal officer, or so he thought.
Barter had spent many hours planning Dreadtar’s
murder which would then give him total command of
the dark army.
“We have
pushed the dwarves of this mountain day and night
to produce for you the finest weapons and armor for
the incoming recruits. I am ready for them, my
lord.” Barter bowed then took a step back.
“My lord,” the
next voice spoke.
Teterrag stood
tall in his black subdued armor, his helm only
covering his eyes. A fine plume made of horse hair
dangled down the back of his helm and around his
shoulders.
“Although the
elves were resistant at first, your fine army under
my command quickly brought them to order. They are
fishing the streams and trapping in the woods under
my control. Soon there will be an abundance of meat
for the troops.”
Teterrag was
unique in that his mount was a black dragon.
Although his dragon was unintelligent and could not
speak, he had an aggressive attitude which made him
even more dangerous.
“My lord,” a
final voice spoke.
Raltin, the
youngest and smallest of Dreadtar’s officers, stood
proudly in his finely engraved blue armor, his head
completely hidden by his jousting helm.
“The puny
halflings were no match for your army and they
quickly complied. They are working hard in the
fields to bring in a harvest of grains and
vegetables for the troops. They will not fail you,
so long as they are enslaved to me.”
Raltin also
kept a smaller red dragon for company. His dragon
was somewhat intelligent, but was more violent than
literate.
Dreadtar
scanned his officers menacingly. “Speak, Witch,” he
finally bellowed.
There was an
eerie silence as a dark figure stepped from an
unlit corner. Verica was one of the oldest evil
magic-users in the land, and although she was very
powerful, time was taking its toll on her. Like her
memory, her powers were fading with every passing
day. She was dressed in a deathly black robe, the
hood covering her white hair and face. Her golden
eyes glowed eerily from underneath her hood. In her
bone thin, aging hand she held a small crystal
ball.
“The crystal
tells all, my lord,” her voice cracked. “You shall
rule this land with an iron fist and your armies
shall grow. Soon you will have the strength and
power to move your armies to Karameikos, and you
shall conquer that land. Once you have taken
Karameikos your armies will grow even stronger!
Then, the world shall be yours for the taking. In
time, all will bow down before you. Your future is
bright, my lord. None shall ever challenge you!”
But the old
witch had forgotten about the basic flaw that all
crystal balls carried. If one did not concentrate
hard enough, the crystal would show them what they
wanted to see, rather than the true future.
“You put too
much faith in that old witch,” Reedex hissed. “Wars
have a way of turning on those who are
overconfident.”
But the
dragon’s words fell upon deaf ears. Dreadtar,
convinced that none would ever challenge him,
crossed his massive arms and leaned back in his
throne.
“None shall
challenge me,” he grumbled to himself, or so he
thought.
Kellvo stood atop a small hill overlooking the
land, the same hill his greatest grandfather
Darriac once stood upon. Spring had come, and the
land seemed to come back to life after the long,
harsh winter. But Kellvo knew that for the enslaved
people of this land, it was just another day of
sorrow and misery. Kellvo stood tall and slender,
his long hair blowing gently in the wind. He wore
modest clothes, a hemp coat, a plain cloak, cotton
trousers, and leather boots. To look at him one
might think he was just another peasant, and not
the overwhelmingly powerful magic-user that he was.
But the power
of his magic could not compare to the power of his
heart, for he cared for his fellow person more than
was comprehensible to the average man. Kellvo’s
complexity only started with his love for the
average man, however. Although he was an all
powerful magic-user, he did not believe in magic.
He felt that magic was nothing more than power of
the mind and mixing the right ingredients to create
a reaction. Regardless of what he believed, he was
very powerful, and a foe to be reckoned with. He
looked over the land in deep thought.
“It has been
three months since we received word,” a soft voice
said, breaking the silence. “When will it start?”
Fai, Kellvo’s
loving wife and most faithful companion, walked to
his side and took his arm. Her petite figure was
dressed fairly in a modest coat, cotton trousers, a
warm cloak, and plain boots. Her long hair reached
her waist and moved gracefully in the wind. But she
too was not what she seemed, for her magic was as
powerful as Kellvo’s.
“These three
months have been so hard,” Kellvo said softly. “For
every day that passes another demihuman is tortured
or killed. But if we rush into this, if we are
impatient, we will lose this battle and all hope
will be lost.” Kellvo grasped the ends of the two
leather strings he wore around his neck. At the end
of one was a blue star medallion encircled with
gold, and at the end of the other was the pot of
what was once a fine smoking pipe carved of bone.
It resembled that of a wise man wearing a long
beard and mustache. “Do you think they’re
watching?” Kellvo asked as he looked upon the
items.
“I think they
always are,” Fai answered gently. She held up an
amulet which resembled the sun with a dark blue gem
in the center. It was once a very powerful magic
item, but as time passed its powers were drained.
It served now only as a piece of jewelry, a momento
which Fai kept close to her heart to remind her of
her greatest grandfather Marjac.
“So...,” she
asked sensing Kellvo’s discomfort. “When will it
start?” Kellvo sighed. “Today we will call a
meeting with the other members. If all is in place,
we will begin tomorrow.”
Fai looked
upon her husband with a sorrowful smile. She could
feel the stress and worry that was building up
within him, and she understood. What Kellvo took
upon himself to do was going to change this land
forever. Win or lose, there would be those who
would not live to see the outcome. She reached into
her pouch and pulled out a large green gem, then
closed her eyes and began to concentrate.
Kijo fell hard to the ground, his chest aching from
the last blow he had received. He rose slowly to
his feet, wiping the blood from his mouth, and
examining the fresh dent in his breastplate. He
recovered his sword, then turned slowly to face his
enemy.
“A lucky
strike, Dragon,” he grumbled. “But you will not be
so lucky again.”
The blue
dragon Kijo faced was easily three times his size.
His blue scales, white mane, and long white horns
shone brilliantly in the afternoon sun. The dragon
lowered his head and growled, revealing hundreds of
razor sharp teeth. He clawed at the ground with his
deadly claws, then began to crouch down like a cat
about to pounce. Kijo straightened his back, his
eyes wide with dread.
“Oh no,” Kijo
mumbled to himself as he lowered his sword.
The dragon
lunged forward extending his front claws and
latched onto Kijo’s shoulders, slamming him to the
ground and pinning him. Kijo fell with a roar of
pain, his sword flying from his hand. The dragon
lowered his head to Kijo’s, then snorted in his
face.
“Ugh,” he
cried in disgust. “By the true God. Have you been
eating sheep again?”
The dragon
smiled then released Kijo from his uncomfortable
position. He slowly rose to his feet, brushing the
dirt from his clothes and armor. The big dragon
began rubbing his head on Kijo’s side like a loving
kitten, almost pushing him over.
“Merfrin,
merfrin,” the dragon mumbled through his jowls.
A gentle laugh
came from beside them.
“I’m glad you
find this amusing,” Kijo said with a smile.
Aleena sat
upon a large boulder laughing at her husband and
the dragon as they played. She was a beautiful
woman with long blond hair, fair skin, and dazzling
hazel eyes. Aleena, like her greatest grandfather
Aniston, was a healer and dedicated her life to
helping others. Her love for the common man was
matched only by her love for the true God, the root
of her incredible healing powers. But besides these
traits, she was also an excellent fighter. She held
her own well with the mace and shield, much to the
envy of Kijo.
Kijo’s heart
was as big and bold as that of his greatest
grandfather Baretec, and he truly felt that if his
greatest grandfather were here today, he would be
proud of all he had done. Kijo did not fit the
description of what a normal fighter would be. His
long black hair fell around a face of kindness and
light blue eyes of caring, and although he was
tall, he did not have the muscular build nor the
razor sharp reflexes that most fighters had. He
did, however, have patience. He studied long and
hard with the two-handed sword until he had
mastered the weapon, and became the finest
swordsman in all the land.
Kijo and
Aleena had traveled together for many years and
were more than just husband and wife, they were
comrades.
Kijo’s
companion Orex was actually a sapphire dragon, a
rare breed of gemstone dragon. His blue scales
shone like fine gems in the bright sunlight. Unlike
the blue dragons who were unpredictable, the
sapphire dragons were lawful, faithful companions.
Kijo trusted this dragon with his life. Orex was
not an intelligent dragon and could not speak or
use spells, but his deep facial expressions and the
movements of his large body were easy for Kijo to
understand. They communicated well.
Aleena felt a
soft vibration in her pouch. She reached into it,
pulled out a large green gem, then closed her eyes
and began to concentrate.
“Who calls
us?” Kijo asked after a moment.
“It’s Fai,”
Aleena answered. “Kellvo wants us to meet him at
Darriac Point,” she continued, rising to her feet.
The two
mounted onto Orex’s back. He spun half a turn,
opened his giant wings, then leaped from the
ground, flying into the afternoon sun.
“I hope this is it,” Lurana said softly, a tremor
in her voice. “I don’t know how much more of this I
can bear.”
“I know, my
love,” Hal said pulling her
close. “I know.”
They crossed
the vast plains together, walking with the graceful
stride that was common among the elves. The gentle
wind blew through their long dark hair, revealing
their smooth elven features and slightly pointed
ears.
Their
earth-toned garments blended well with the
environment around them. At 325 years old, Hal and
Lurana were considered young adults by elven
standards, but their adventures on the mainland had
given them much experience with magic and weapons.
By human standards, they were considered masters.
But in all their adventuring and travel, nothing
could have prepared them for what they'd endured.
For the last few months, Hal and Lurana had been
hiding in the woods just outside their home
village.
They watched
in horror as their loved ones were forced into
slavery by the Dark Army, unable to act for fear of
being captured themselves. Lurana wrapped her arms
around her husband’s waist and pulled herself close
as they walked. Their undying love for one another
was the greatest treasure they had ever found in
their adventures, and it was that undying love that
kept them sane in these horrible times.
Their walk was
concluded at the base of a small hill. They stopped
and took a deep, calming breath. Lurana wrapped
herself with her cloak, shivering from nervousness
more than from the cool breeze, then wiped a tear
from her eye.
“Do you think
he can do it?” She asked, looking on Hal with
sorrowful eyes.
Hal looked up
the hill with a confident smile. “I know he can.”
Kellvo and Fai waited patiently atop Darriac Point,
now joined by their friends Kijo and Aleena, and
the enormous Vermithrex. Vermithrex was a huge gold
dragon, with a head easily the size of two men, and
wings that seemed to shade the entire island. His
golden scales shone brilliantly in the sun, while
the black scales on his chest and around his eyes
gave him a menacing look. His long black horns and
sharp black claws reflected the sun like giant
subdued swords and daggers. From his enormous neck
there hung a long black mane which shimmered like a
dark waterfall in the gentle afternoon breeze.
Kellvo and the dragon were as close as two
companions could be. Kellvo respected the dragon
for his age and wisdom, and
Vermithrex respected Kellvo for his love of all
creatures and his clear mind.
Many years had
passed since Kellvo and Fai discovered the dragon.
While adventuring in some hidden caves in a far
away land, Kellvo and Fai came upon a magical
scroll which read, “Whomever holds this scroll
holds the slave dragon and all its powers.” On that
day, Kellvo recited the magic words and Vermithrex
appeared. Their hearts filled with terror.
Vermithrex’s
feet were chained with magic chains so he could not
walk, his wings were tied with magic rope so he
could not fly, and his mouth was clamped with a
magic clamp so he could not roar. Fai broke into
tears and Kellvo went into a rage. Using his magic,
Kellvo broke the chains and freed the dragon’s
feet, cut the rope and freed the dragon’s wings,
and broke the clamp and freed the dragon’s jaw.
Kellvo spoke boldly on that day.
“In exchange
for your freedom I ask only one thing of you
Dragon, that you be free! Do not consider yourself
in debt to me, for I have only done what was right
and what had to be done.”
From that day
forward, Vermithrex and Kellvo were the greatest of
friends, and Fai loved her husband all the more.
They talked casually amongst each other, trying to
think of other things to lighten their spirits,
even if just for a moment. Their conversations were
interrupted by the arrival of two more of their
comrades.
Astain,
Aleena’s younger half sister, walked gracefully to
the top of the hill. Her facial features
looked much like her sister’s, but her long black
hair and slightly taller build reminded her that
she was a half sister. Gifts from the father she
had never known. But there was still a very thin
line of Aniston’s blood flowing through her veins.
Like her half sister, Astain had a big heart. She
was a great healer, with a strong bond with the
true God. Her plate mail armor shone brightly in
the sun, pulled slightly lower on one shoulder from
the menacing two-handed war hammer slung across her
back. She looked over her shoulder and smiled.
“Hurry up
little man, we don’t have all day.” Her voice was
soft and soothing.
“I’d like to
see you cross five miles with these little legs,” a
voice grumbled. “Maybe then you wouldn’t be in such
a hurry!”
A large
disgusting dwarf waddled up the hill behind her. He
was truly a grotesque sight. His long matted hair
was plagued with lice, what teeth he had were
crooked and rotting, his poked-out eye was
unbandaged and oozing, and his big hands were
soiled and covered with warts. His clothing was
dirty and smelled of rats, a perfect complement to
the dwarf himself. The group tried to hide their
smirks and giggles.
“I thought you
were going to use a disguise?” Fai said with a
smile.
The group
couldn’t help but to laugh.
“Oh that’s
very funny,” the dwarf said sarcastically. “Always
quick with the tongue, aren’t you Lady!”
“Why don’t you
transform to your true self, my brother?” Kellvo
asked through a laugh.
“I can only
use the spell once per day. How will I change
back?” The dwarf explained.
“Change back
to your true self,” Fai said. “I will use my spell
to transform you back into your disguise.”
“Aw, bless you
Fai,” the dwarf said with a smile.
He folded his
hands and closed his eyes in concentration. Small
sparks of gold began to appear and circle around
him. As they increased in number they began
circling faster, and the dwarf’s body began to
stretch. His nappy hair and beard became short and
neat. His facial features took human form, and his
poked eye was replaced with a sparkling blue one
that matched the other. His torn, soiled clothes
transformed into the fine white robes of a lawful
magic-user. The golden sparks flickered, then
vanished.
Astain’s eyes
lit up at the sight of her husband back in his
true, handsome form.
“That is so
much better,” he said. “That foul smell was
beginning to make me nauseous.”
“It’s good to
see you again,” Kellvo said with a smile.
“You too, my
brother,” Centurion answered.
The two gave
each other a strong brotherly hug.
Centurion was
also a powerful magic-user, almost equal his older
brother, however his beliefs in magic were very
different. Centurion believed in the powers of
magic and wore the traditional white robes which
announced his lawfulness. He did not believe that
magic was merely mixing the right potions and the
power of the mind. He believed that some things
were never meant to be explained. But the brothers
did not let their personal beliefs come between
them. Their bond was strong, and they were a
powerful combination.
“They’re
here,” Fai announced.
The group
turned to see Hal and Lurana as they topped the
hill and greeted them with warm hugs. The group
felt for the two elves, for their task was the
hardest of them all. When word reached the mainland
about the island being taken over, Hal and Lurana
rushed to protect their precious village, but they
were too late. The Dark Army had already enslaved
the entire village. But Hal and Lurana were very
experienced fighters, and very skilled in blending
with their surroundings. Hiding in the woods and
observing their village, they served as Kellvo’s
eyes and ears which would enable him to plan the
attack that would free their village.
“We are all
here,” Kellvo finally spoke. “Let us begin.”
The group
moved to an area on the hill where a large map lay
unrolled on the ground, a stone on each of its four
corners to keep it in place. They sat comfortably
around the map, while Vermithrex observed from over
their shoulders.
“Tell me, my
wife,” Kellvo said. “What news do you bring from
the plains in the north?”
“The captain
of this army was wise and has taken every weapon
and piece of armor the halflings had.” Fai’s voice
was soft and sorrowful.
“I will have
to overtake this branch of the Dark Army with my
troops alone. Our numbers are even, but my troops
have better fighting skills. We will liberate the
village.”
“And what of
the dragon?” Kellvo asked with concern.
“My spy has
revealed to me that Teterrag, as well as the other
dragon captains, have taken their beasts to the
dwarven mines to report their progress and discuss
future plans with Dreadtar himself. They are not
due back for three nights.”
“Very good,”
Kellvo said. The information was very pleasing to
him.
“Tell me, my
brother,” he then said. “What news do you bring
from the dwarven mines in the north-west?”
“The Ogre
lieutenants have been lazy and have not actually
seen the completed suits of armor,” Centurion
explained. “Rather they have taken the word of our
spy to be true. They think that the armor has been
made to their specifications, when it has actually
been made to ours. The armor is ready and waiting.”
“And what of
the dwarves themselves?” Kellvo asked.
“Slavery is
never kind, and punishments are swift,” Centurion
answered, his eyes dropping to the ground. “But the
dwarves are holding up as well as they can. They
are eager for this battle and to avenge the deaths
of their fallen comrades.”
“And so they
shall,” Kellvo said softly. He looked on the elves
with sympathetic eyes. “Hal, Lurana, what news do
you bring from your village in the south-west?”
Lurana sat
numb, her mind drifting elsewhere. Hal spoke for
the both of them. “The villagers still have bows
and arrows for hunting, and good knives for
butchering, but their armor has been taken and they
are greatly outnumbered. They know that if they
were to attack now they would be slaughtered, so
they are waiting patiently for our reinforcements.
When you do attack, they will take to the trees and
provide you with arrows from the sky. We cannot
wait much longer though. The beatings and the
killings are thinning our village fast, and soon
we’ll have no one left to fight.”
“Our time is
at hand, my friend,” Kellvo said reassuringly. “You
will not have to wait much longer. Kijo, please
tell me the status of our army.”
“The troops
are fully assembled and camped on the east side of
the island,” Kijo said with pride. “Their morale is
high and they are ready and eager for this fight.”
Kellvo too,
felt proud. The army that the group had put
together was their greatest accomplishment ever. It
was made of men and women of all races who were
pure of heart and sound of mind. On the mainland,
the group had a small territory where all these
people lived. It was a good land.
The soil was
good for crops, there was an abundance of water,
and the wildlife made for excellent hunting, but
they were surrounded by less ethical kingdoms who
were constantly trying to take their land. With the
help of the group and their vast experience, they
trained the villagers and formed them into a well
organized, dedicated army. In times of trouble,
they fought hard and fought well. They did not
fight for money. They fought to protect their
families and the land that was rightfully theirs.
They fought
for freedom, and there was no greater cause
throughout the land. Kellvo spread the news of an
island that was living in slavery, captured by a
dark army. He told them of how the inhabitants of
this island so desperately needed their help to
free them from this evil army. In return, they
would all be welcome to live and share this
wonderful island with the locals, in peace and
harmony. The villagers were quick to comply. They
gathered their families and packed a mere few
belongings, then boarded the ships for their
departure to the new land.
“Vermithrex,”
Kellvo said. “Please tell me what news you bring
from the sky.”
The dragon
shook his large head and neck much like a horse
would, waving his long mane in the gentle breeze.
“There are two warships approaching from the west
carrying fresh recruits. Due to the shallow waters
in the north, they will have no choice but to land
at the south docks. A small army will escort them
by foot to the dwarven mines in the north to
receive their armor and weapons.” His eyes narrowed
as he lowered his big head closer to the group.
“These ships are big Kellvo, much bigger than ours,
and they carry many a beast. They should arrive
late in the morning tomorrow.”
“So be it,”
Kellvo said stroking his chin in deep thought. He
stood and allowed himself a better view of the map
and let his mind drift in thought.
“Oh what a
wonderful land this will be,” his thought to
himself.
The island was
easily three times the size of their territory on
the mainland, reaching over 150 miles from east to
west and almost 80 miles from north to south.
Uncountable miles of rolling hills and plains
provided lush soil for crops and an abundance of
wildlife for hunting. The huge central lake and
branching rivers provided good fresh water and
fish, and would allow them to build far inland. To
the west, the island sloped gently upward into an
enormous plateau covered with thick pines and
ending in jagged cliffs that dropped into the
ocean. But the location of this island was by far
its greatest asset. At well over 600 miles from the
mainland, an approaching enemy could be spotted
days before touching shore, only to find
miles of terrain to cross before reaching the new
village.
“There will be
peace,” he thought to himself. “But not before
there is war.” His mind returned to the present.
“Our time has
come,” Kellvo finally spoke. “There will not come a
better opportunity for us to begin our attack.”
Holding a thin stick in one hand, he put a knee by
the side of the map. “At present our numbers to the
Dark Army’s could not be more
equal. But our troops have better fighting skills,
stronger hearts, and their faith in the true God,
and that will give them the advantage.”
He looked upon
the group with serious eyes. “Our attacks will have
to be swift, and very effective.” He began pointing
at locations on the map as he spoke. “Late tonight
both our ships will set sail and travel from the
east side of the island around to the south. I want
soldiers only on these boats. The children and
their mothers will remain at the camp. I want both
ships to anchor here, just east of this patch of
woods. Kijo, I want you to bring your troops
ashore and hide in the woods. When the escort army
comes to meet the new recruits, attack them!”
Kijo's face
bore an anxious smirk.
“At that time,
Aleena,” Kellvo continued. “Your vessel will be
empty except for its crew. I want you to continue
sailing west until you reach this point. Astain,
your vessel will still contain Hal and Lurana’s
army. I want you to continue sailing west and
anchor just south of the base of the great plateau.
Hal and Lurana, here you will take your troops
ashore and move them up the mountain and attack
toward your village from the east side.”
Hal’s face
twisted slightly with anger. Thoughts of his
village and the horrible things the Dark Army had
brought upon them flooded his mind. He took a deep
breath. “It shall be done,” Hal said calmly.
Kellvo nodded,
then continued. “Astain, at that time your vessel
will also be empty except for its crew. I want you
to sail south and meet Aleena at the same point.
Your ship is much faster than Aleena’s which will
give you the time you need to make the longer
journey. Hal, you must get your troops off the
vessel as quickly as possible. Do not delay, for it
is imperative that these two meet on time. Aleena,
Astain, when you do meet, the two enemy vessels
will be in the same waters. Astain, I want you to
attack them from the north, and I want Aleena to
attack from the east. These enemy vessels must not
complete their journey.”
Aleena and
Astain’s eyes met, their stomachs turning
nervously. They had been on many great adventures
and fought in many battles, but never on such a
large scale. There was much weight on their
shoulders this time.
Kellvo took a
drink from his waterskin to quench his dry throat,
then continued. “Fai, at first light I want you to
move your army west to the halfling village and
attack from the east side. The plains will not
offer you much cover and a surprise attack will be
very difficult. They will probably spot your troops
and have their defenses ready.”
“Do not worry
yourself, my husband,” Fai said with a grin. “‘Tis
nothing a little creative magic cannot make up
for.”
Kellvo smiled
broadly. Fai’s cleverness was just another of a
long list of traits that he loved about her. He
truly believed that she could move the stars if she
put her mind to it.
“Centurion,”
Kellvo spoke again. “At first light I want you to
begin the liberation in the mines. But first, we
must find a way to rid the caves of Dreadtar, his
captains, and especially the dragons.”
“I will create
a diversion just outside the woods that will draw
the captains and the dragons away,” Centurion said
casually. “It will not be difficult.”
“Very well,”
Kellvo answered. “Once the dragons are well away,
begin your attack with both the dwarves and the
armor. Your fight will be a more difficult one, my
brother. The small tunnels and low light will not
be to either side's advantage. The dwarves are
accustomed to these conditions, but are in a
weakened state. The armor will adapt themselves to
the conditions, but it will take a little time.
Take care, my brother.”
Centurion
bowed appreciatively.
“This, my
friends, will bring us to what may be the final
battle,” Kellvo continued. “With the captains away,
the armies will lack their best leadership. With
our even numbers, better fighting skills, and faith
in the true God, I believe that we will be
victorious in each of these battles.
“When the enemy sees that they are being
defeated, many will try to evade. Let them. An
enemy with the option to run will not fight as
furiously as one that has no escape.” Kellvo
pointed to a section of plains at the base of the
great plateau. “Our spies have informed us that if
there were such an event, the troops would move to
this location to regroup and reorganize.”
The eyes of
the group widened, and Aleena let go a gasp.
“That is just
west of Darriac Point... here!” Hal said with
surprise.
“Yes,” Kellvo
answered. “I want you all to give the evading
troops about half a day’s lead. Use that time to
tend to your own needs, then follow. The enemy
troops should arrive at their assembly area at dusk
and I suspect that Dreadtar will work through the
night reassembling his army. That will give us a
the opportunity to get some rest. After nightfall,
I want Kijo and Hal to meet here, about three miles
south of Dreadtar’s regrouping area, and set camp
for the night. As well, I want Centurion and Fai to
meet here, just three miles north of the regrouping
area. At dawn, we will move our troops to the
outskirts of Dreadtar’s area. There, we will
offer him one last alternative, surrender or
death.”
Kellvo sensed
the tension in the group as they twisted and
shifted uneasily. Never before had they taken on
such a large burden, and yet they knew that this
was one that could not be ignored. For them, there
was no choice. This burden had to be met, and this
land had to be made free.
“Our spies
have been a great asset to us,” Kellvo continued.
“And I want them to be kept safe. You will know
them by the red cloths which they will have tied to
their helms. When you see them, pull them into your
ranks and let them fight with us. Our time has
come, my friends.”
With that, the
group stood and pulled their matching blue star
medallions from under their shirts. Some were the
ancient ones, others were reproductions, but their
meanings were all the same. They stood shoulder to
shoulder, their bodies forming a circle with all
their hands joined in the center.
“As Members of
the Star, we stand here today to continue where our
greatest grandfathers left off,” Kellvo said
proudly. “May the true God be with us and make this
land free.”
The circle
broke and the friends began hugging one another and
wishing good luck and Godspeed. Kellvo
at last found himself speaking one-on-one
with Hal.
“Hal my
friend,” Kellvo said with a smile as they strolled
together. “I want to thank you for sharing your
knowledge about the history of this land. Knowing
what happened during the first war will be much to
our advantage.”
“Think nothing
of it, my friend,” Hal said cheerfully. “I was glad
to be of service.”
“Please tell
me, Hal,” Kellvo inquired. “How is it that you know
so much about Darriac and his army?”
“There were
many books,” Hal answered. “I must have read them
all.”
“That’s very
interesting,” Kellvo said rubbing his chin. “For I
thought the elves did not record history in books
or scrolls, but rather by word of mouth passed on
from generation to generation. Oh well, it matters
not. Tell me Hathalanious, was it your father or
your grandfather who was head of the Elven Army
during the war.”
“It was my
father. He...” Hal froze in his tracks, his eyes
wide with shock. He looked upon Kellvo’s face only
to see a pleasant smile looking back at him. “How
did you know?” Hal asked quietly.
“I can do
simple math, my friend,” Kellvo said patting Hal on
his shoulders. “Our greatest grandfathers fought
that war only 150 years ago, and you would have
been a young adult by human standards. Not only
were you old enough to fight in that war, but you
did. You have a veteran’s eyes, Hal. I can see your
pain whenever you tell the story.”
“It has never
gotten easier to tell,” Hal said bowing his head.
“On the mainland, my name went down in history as a
coward, the one who hid from battle and lived to
tell the tale. I knew then that someday I would
have children of my own, and I did not want them
growing up with the burden of having a coward’s
name. I disappeared for about fifty years, then
returned to the mainland with a new name.”
“Do not worry,
my old friend,” Kellvo said. “Your true name will
be remembered as a hero... in both wars.”
Hal smiled
broadly. “I’m worried about you and Fai.
Magic-users are not know for surviving long when
blades are swinging. Will you two be safe on your
own?”
“There is
nothing to fear, my friend,” Kellvo said calmly.
“We will have our guardians by our sides. We will
be quite safe.”
The group said
their final farewells to one another, then
departed.
The ocean shimmered a brilliant red as the evening
sun set. Kijo watched from the east shore as the
lifeboats, packed full with troops, paddled their
way to deeper waters toward the awaiting anchored
ships. He wondered to himself if any of the troops
had noticed the beautiful sunset, and wondered if
it would be their last. Kijo then wondered to
himself if it would be his last. He pulled his wife
close and rubbed his dragon’s big head. How
thankful he was for all the blessings in his life,
and he prayed that the true God would continue to
let him live it.
A Time of Battles
“My lord...”
Dreadtar
uprighted himself in his throne, startled from his
deep sleep. Before him stood a small goblin
soldier, bleeding from his brow and supporting his
broken arm.
“I said I did
not want to be disturbed,” Dreadtar bellowed
angrily. “Get out!”
“My lord,” the
goblin whimpered. “There is someone at the front
entrance to see you.”
“I will see no
one! Tell the guards to chase him away!” He
ordered.
“I cannot, my
lord,” the goblin said quietly. “He ate the
guards.”
Dreadtar stormed down the narrow corridor with five
armed guards and the broken messenger following
close behind. Anger and fury swelled within his
veins. The knight clenched his fists tightly as he
approached the main entrance of the dwarven cave,
eager to face the one who would defy him so.
Dreadtar thrust the large doors open with all his
strength, smashing them on the outside walls, only
to find himself standing in the darkness, face to
face with a large green dragon.
The dragon was
easily five times the size of Dreadtar. His dark
green scales and yellow belly bore scars of many
battles, and his enormous jaws were not capable of
holding his hundreds of piercing teeth. The dragon
lay calmly on his belly in front of the cave
entrance, fanning himself with his half folded
wings.
Humbleness
overcame Dreadtar. All around him lay twisted armor
plates, blood-soaked clothing, and broken
meat-striped bones. The stunned messenger continued
to walk forward into the woods, still in shock from
the horror he had already witnessed. Hiding his
emotions, Dreadtar quickly gathered himself.
“Who gave you
the right to kill my guards,” Dreadtar bellowed,
swallowing his fear. “And what business do you seek
with me?”
The shaken
guards around him were amazed at Dreadtar’s daring
and confidence. The dragon narrowed his cold yellow
eyes and lowered his head slightly.
“No one gives
me rights, Evil Knight. I do as I please.” The
dragon’s hiss was cold and haunting. “I am called
Gorter in your tongue, and I am hear to warn you…”
“I know of the
army about to attack, if that is what you seek
reward for,” Dreadtar interrupted boldly. “I have
spies in all their ranks, and I am quite ready for
them. Now be gone! There is no reward for you
here.”
“Oh you have
spies in all their ranks, do you?” The dragon
hissed. “Tell me, what spy do you have in the ranks
of the army to the north?”
Dreadtar’s
expression dropped, although none could see it
under his helm. “There is no army to the north. You
lie seeking reward!”
“I have more
treasure than you could ever comprehend,” Gorter
yelled impatiently. “Your puny rewards mean nothing
to me! And I assure you there is an army to the
north, a very special army. They wear dark hooded
robes and never reveal their faces. They carry fine
weapons, and they are well disciplined. Never
before have I seen such an army.”
“Why are you
here, Dragon?” Dreadtar asked humbly. “You do not
have adequate troops in the north to deal with this
army,”
Gorter said
calmly. “I will eliminate it for you.”
“And your
price?” Dreadtar inquired.
“The dark
woods to the east shall be mine, and neither you
nor your troops shall ever enter them!” the dragon
demanded.
Dreadtar
crossed his massive arms in a moment’s thought. He
wondered what was hiding in the dark woods that
could be of such importance to this dragon.
Nevertheless, Dreadtar knew he was in a bind. He
would need the dragons help. “The dark woods shall
be yours,” Dreadtar said.
Gorter spread
his giant wings and spun half a turn. “They shall
be dead by morning,” he hissed, then leapt into the
sky, leaving the guards choking in his dust.
The two ships moved slowly through the calm waters
with the rising sun to their sterns and their sails
blown full with the gentle morning wind. Aleena’s
ship, the “Avenger” as it was called, was a typical
looking war ship. It’s short stocky build and two
masts with large square sails made it clumsy to
maneuver. But when combat was upon them, its
massive ram, three light catapults, and numerous
ballistas made it a dangerous foe. Astain’s ship
however, was truly magnificent. At just short of
200 feet long, the “Freedom” was long and narrow,
designed specifically for fast sailing. Its eight
massive triangular sails were attached to three
masts which seemed to touch the sky. There were no
ships in all the seas as magnificent, or as
fast as this one.
Kijo stood
tensely on the bow of the Avenger, the small patch
of woods where his troops would be landing was well
in sight. How, he wondered, did his troops sleep so
well on the journey here the day before battle. He
was not aware of the little touch of magic which
Kellvo had put on the ship to assure the troops
were well rested for the long day ahead. He felt
the soft touch of Aleena’s hand on his neck. He
turned and looked into her sorrowful eyes.
“What is it,
my love?” he asked calmly.
A tear fell
from her eye as she pulled herself close to him.
“Please be careful,” she wept. “It will be so
dangerous for you.”
“Do not fear,
Aleena,” Kijo said reassuringly as he stroked her
golden hair. “I have fought in many battles and
have always...”
“None like
this,” Aleena cried. “This is a war! There will be
many enemies, and dragons! You will be fighting men
on dragons!”
Kijo could not
deny that he had fought no true battles from the
back of a flying dragon. He had practiced many a
time, but practice was never the same as a true
fight.
“You too must
be safe, my love,” Kijo finally spoke. “The thought
of you drowning out here has given me great worry.”
Aleena smiled
as she looked upon her husband. The love between
warriors was always hard on the heart. Fighting
battles, and yet worrying about the one they loved
at the same time was a heavy burden. She stared
with awe as she noticed a gold speck in the sky
coming towards them.
“Kijo,” she
spoke. “It’s Vermithrex.”
The huge
dragon lowered himself from the sky, struggling to
hover his large body adjacent to the ship. The
rising sun reflected brilliantly off his golden
scales.
“There has
been a change of plans,” the dragon bellowed.
“A change,”
Kijo said in awe. “Why?”
“How many
short were you in your ranks last night?”
Vermithrex asked.
“I was short
six, but fear not. Deserters will be dealt with
fairly,” Kijo responded.
“It was just
as Kellvo predicted,” Vermithrex said to himself
with a grin. “They were not deserters,” he said
loudly. “They were spies!”
The emotion of
rage was easily seen in Kijo’s face, and the veins
in his body swelled. The thought that he was
deceived, that there were internal sources trying
to foil their plans, made his blood burn. Aleena
stood quietly in shock.
“Do not worry,
Knight,” Vermithrex said calmly. “Kellvo has
predicted this and has made some changes. The army
assigned to escort the new recruits is waiting in
the woods to ambush you. Do not land your troops on
the east side of the woods but rather on the west
side and face your troops to the east. There you
will wait for a sign, then begin your attack.”
Kijo grew
furious at the thought of his beloved troops nearly
becoming the victims of an ambush.
“What will be
the sign?” he demanded.
“You will know
it,” the dragon said with a smirk. “Let it be known
to Hal and Lurana that the army that controls their
village has moved all their defenses to the east.
They must move their troops beyond their village
without being noticed, then attack from the west.”
“It will be
done,” Kijo said boldly.
“Remember
Knight, we have spies in their ranks as well,”
Vermithrex reminded him. “Their markings have
changed, however. They now where blue and gold
cloths on the wrists of their sword hands. Protect
them, Knight. It is because of them that we know
all that we know.”
Kijo gave a
nod.
“Godspeed to
you Knight. I will see you on the morrow,”
Vermithrex said with confidence.
“Godspeed,”
Kijo returned.
Vermithrex,
tired from hovering his massive body, flapped his
wings full and pulled himself high into the sky
above. He caught a strong wind then glided toward
the island.
Fai pulled her cloak around her chilled body. The
rising sun had not yet warmed the earth, and the
gentle breeze made her shiver. The dark blue war
paint spread across her eyes felt cold and icy. To
one side there marched the mysterious secret army,
wrapped in plain burlap robes and dark hoods. They
walked with complete silence, swords and polearms
in hand, in two long files that seemed to reach the
ocean.
“A few more
hours, Boy,” she said nervously, wishing the
journey was over. “And the battle will be upon us.”
Cat, Fai’s
beloved and trusted guardian, walked protectively
close to her side. Cat was a most magnificent
beast. Resembling a giant mountain lion, Cat was
forged from a magic metal that shone like platinum
in the morning sun, and his eyes were of magic
pearls which would change color with his mood. At
present they glowed a pleasant gold. His massive
paws left deep impressions in the ground while his
long tail with its spiked mace tip drifted easily
back and forth. When Cat fought, he fought
violently.
Taller than a
horse and weighing three times as much, any who
would threaten Fai would be met with massive metal
claws, dagger like teeth, and a swinging spiked
mace tail. There was nothing Cat wouldn’t do to
protect his master. He gave a metallic growl
in protest. The large saddlebags loaded down with
halfling weapons and armor were beginning to grow
heavy.
“I know Boy,”
Fai said with a smile. “We’ll be dropping that load
soon.”
Cat stopped
suddenly and rose his massive head, his ears
perked.
“What is it,
Boy?” Fai asked with concern. Cat spun half a turn
and looked to the sky, then gave a chilling
metallic roar. Fai looked to the sky in horror to
see a huge green dragon swooping down at her.
“Dragon!” she
screamed to her troops. “Dragon to the south!”
The troops
began to scatter, but Fai’s warning came far too
late. Gorter’s jaws opened wide as he bellowed an
immense cloud of deadly chlorine gas, the force of
which blew the troops to the ground. Their robes
flapped violently with the dragon’s wind, exposing
arms and legs made of branches and torsos made of
logs. Fai tried desperately to outrun the blast,
but was overtaken by the deadly cloud. She fell to
her hands and knees, choking on the noxious gas.
Fai felt pressure on her ribs as she was lifted
from the ground, then the earth below her began to
move. The air became clean. She took deep breaths,
cooling her burning lungs with the soothing air.
Fai fell to the ground landing on her side, only to
find Cat standing
protectively over her.
Gorter looked
to the ground in frustration as the wooden troops
scrambled to their feet. “Animations!” he sneered.
The dragon was all too familiar with this spell. It
gave a powerful magic-user the ability to create
servants from inanimate objects to do as the
creator pleased. In this case, it was to serve as
soldiers.
“I’ve not seen
magic such as this in a hundred years,” the dragon
bellowed. “I will smash them like insects!”
Fai watched as
the dragon circled for another pass. She knew he
would not use his breath weapon again. “Company,”
she commanded. “Prepare for a dragon’s smash!”
The troops
quickly formed. Thirty of them stood in even rows
to form a solid square, weapons sheathed, arms to
their sides. The remaining troops formed a large
circle around them, weapons at the ready. Gorter
dove from the sky, his wings whistling in the wind.
He bellowed a victorious roar as he rotated his
massive body just moments before impact, then
smashed the animated soldiers into the ground. Fai
closed her eyes and covered her ears, trying
desperately to block out Gorter’s blood chilling
scream.
A pain, more
agonizing than any the dragon had ever known,
flashed through his body. He sprang like a startled
cat, landing on his side and crushing yet more of
the troops in the outer circle. Pain flashed
through Gorter again, this time from his side. He
howled and rolled to his opposite side. He looked
to his bloody claws in horror at the sharpened
wooden shafts that pierced them, their lifeless
wooden limbs dangling. Where there should have been
heads, these animations were sharpened to a point,
a perfect counter against a dragon’s smash. His
belly and side had been punctured more times than
he cared to know by the sharpened torsos of the
animations. Fear overcame him. He knew his wounds
were serious, and the outer circle was closing upon
him.
The dragon
slashed desperately with his wounded claws and his
massive tail, snapping the animations like twigs,
but their numbers were too great. Shots of pain
flashed through Gorter as swords and polearms were
thrust into his hide. Fai looked only for a moment,
then turned her head, unable to witness the horror
of the beast being slowly killed. Finally, a fatal
blow struck him. Gorter felt a sharp pain below his
jaw and felt the warm blood from his neck spray on
his face. A calmness came to him.
“Animations
act as their creators act,” Gorter thought to
himself. “A lawful creature will not attack an
enemy that does not fight.”
He let his
claws and tail fall to the ground. He cringed as
the stinging blows continued, but began to slow.
Through his blood filled eyes he saw the animations
backing away, weapons still at the ready. They
observed the dying dragon for a moment, then stood
erect and awaited their next order.
“Please,”
Gorter said to a god he’d never spoken to before.
“Make it quick.”
The blood
cleared from his eyes. He no longer saw the army of
animations, the magic-user, or the platinum battle
cat. He saw only the rolling plains and the tall
grass blowing gently in the wind, a beauty he had
never noticed until now. Gorter closed his eyes,
and died.
Kijo watched
over the shimmering ocean as the last of the
lifeboats rowed their way to shore. He looked down
the rope ladder that led to one remaining lifeboat,
full except for one seat which was reserved for
him. His heart ached with sadness.
“Worry not, my
love,” Kijo said as he pulled Aleena close. “The
true God is watching over us, and we will be
together again.”
It was times
such as these when Kijo’s mind would begin to
wander. “I could retire,” he would think to
himself. “I could buy some land and become a
farmer. I could live a life without threats or
danger and always be close to the woman I so love.”
But these thoughts were always interrupted by his
heart. He knew he had a calling. It was his destiny
in life to fight evil and help the good.
Aleena held
Kijo tight, then kissed him quickly.
“Watch
yourself,” she said through hidden tears. “And I
will see you on the morrow.”
Kijo smiled
broadly, touched Aleena’s hair one last time, then
began his descent to the awaiting boat.
“I love you!”
She cried as he reached the boat.
“I love you
too,” Kijo smiled back.
He pushed off
the side of the massive ship and the rowers began
paddling toward the shore. Kijo knelt at the bow of
the small boat, staring intently into the small
patch of woods ahead. If there was an army hiding
within those woods, he could not see it. His
concentration was broken by an eerie howl from the
shore beyond. Orex clawed anxiously at the sand
beneath his feet. His armor shone brilliantly in
the morning sun as he rocked his huge torso back
and forth with excitement. Kijo smiled broadly.
Orex, realizing that his rider had spotted him,
began rocking faster and let loose another joyful
howl.
“Merfren,
merfren,” the young dragon mumbled excitedly.
Because of his
massive size, Orex could not sail in the ships with
the other troops. Kijo had no choice but to saddle
and armor his dragon the night before, then allow
him to fly to the grouping area on his own. Now all
was right with Orex, for he would soon be rejoined
with his faithful friend.
As the
lifeboat reached the shore the troops quickly
jumped from their seats and joined their fellow
soldiers. Kijo looked upon the army with pride. The
three long rows of troops seemed to reach the
horizon. To the front stood the infantry, tall and
proud, bearing their blue braided cords on their
right arms. Their long swords and polished armor
and shields shone brilliantly in the early morning
sun. In the center stood the cavalry, sitting high
in their saddles, bearing green cords and long
spears.
The vital
areas of the horses were well armored, and they
were draped with fine blue and gold linens. To the
rear stood the archers, wearing their red cords and
yielding finely crafted long bows. The multiracial
army of men and women radiated with pride. They
were well disciplined, well trained, and very ready
for this fight for freedom.
“Let me see
the Major Sergeants,” Kijo ordered.
From the
ranks, a man and a woman stepped forward. They did
not wear the uniform armor of the troops. In fact,
their armor and clothing suggested that they were
from a far away land, one of darkness and evil.
Kepler stood
tall, his black subdued chain mail armor showing no
reflection of the sun. His complexion was very
light, and his short hair very dark.
Beside him
stood his wife and companion, Luna. She was tall,
standing only a few inches shorter than her
husband, and her long brown hair and black leather
armor gave her a very intimidating appearance.
However these two were not what they seamed. They
were actually Paladins, the most lawful and
honorable of fighters, who had dedicated their
lives to traveling the Darklands and protecting the
innocent from its evils. They too had a trace of
the greatest grandfathers’ blood within their
veins, but they would not be joining the elite
group of the Members of the Star until their quest
in the Darklands was complete.
The bond
between Kepler and Luna was a strong one. Their
position as Major Sergeant was intended for only
one person, however they insisted to Kellvo
that they hold the position together. Kellvo,
knowing true love himself, obliged them. “Yes,
Master Sergeant,” Kepler responded.
“What is the
status of the troops?” Kijo inquired.
“The troops
are formed and ready. The horses are still cold and
shaken from their swim from the ships to shore, but
they are warming even as we speak.”
“Excellent!”
Kijo exclaimed. “Your efforts are beyond price.”
“Please tell
me, Master Sergeant,” Luna spoke in a gentle voice.
“When will we begin our attack?”
“The attack
will begin when we receive the sign,” Kijo
answered.
“And how will
we know this sign?” Luna asked.
Kijo looked to
the sky with great concern. “I believe that is it,”
he said coldly.
The silence of the forest was broken by the sounds
of grunts, growls, and thundering footsteps as the
ambush party twisted and wove its way through the
large trees. The large ogre leader took long,
monstrous steps, much to the disliking of the
smaller orcs, goblins, and kobolds who were forced
to run.
“That idiot,
Dreadtar,” the ogre grumbled to himself. “Sent us
to the wrong side of the forest.”
“I see them!”
A goblin soldier said in a loud whisper.
The ogre held
up a fist, signaling his beasts to stop. The forest
became quiet again. He strained his eyes to see
through the thick forest, then smiled an evil smile
as he spotted the shiny armor of his enemy gleaming
in the morning sun.
“They are
beyond arrow range,” the ogre said to himself,
stroking his chin. “We must draw them closer.”
A rustling
from above interrupted his thoughts. The distracted
army began looking to the treetops as a small group
of birds went into frenzy.
Soon, the
rustle developed into a roar, and the entire forest
around them came to life. Rodents appeared from the
ground and the trees and ran for the edge of the
wood line. Panicked birds rustled the trees as they
flew into the sky.
“Dru…dru…dru…,”
a panicked goblin stuttered, pointing to the sky.
“Dragon!” He
finally screamed in a bone chilling rage.
Vermithrex
dove from the sky bellowing immense fire and smoke
from his jaws. The woods were set ablaze, as well
as the small branch off the evil Dark Army. Blood
curdling screams echoed throughout the forest as
the horrid beasts were painfully burned to death.
Those not set afire ran in a panic to the edge of
the woods.
“No, you
fools,” the ogre leader bellowed. “Go back! Go
back!”
However, the
undisciplined and panic-stricken beasts would not
listen and continued running directly into Kijo’s
awaiting army.
Kijo watched from the open planes as Vermithrex
made his deadly attack. The nervous horses stomped
the ground uneasily causing their armor to clank at
the joints. The troops watched tensely as thick
gray smoke bellowed from the woods. A beast emerged
from the smoke, coughing and sucking in the cool
clean air, then another emerged, then another. One
by one the beasts emerged, staggered and delirious.
They spotted Kijo’s army and froze. The Dark Army
was greatly outnumbered. The ogre leader stepped
forward, raised his sword, and then screamed an
ogre war chant. One by one, the remaining orcs,
goblins, and kobolds joined in the chants,
screaming and waving their swords.
“Kepler,
Luna,” Kijo said calmly. “We cannot risk harming
the horses this early in the battle, and we need to
save our arrows. Send only the infantry.”
“Yes, Master
Sergeant,” Kepler responded. Kepler and Luna walked
to the front of the line and drew their swords.
“Infantry,” Kepler shouted, his sword held high.
“Follow me! Attack!”
The troops
moved forward at a moderate pace, their swords and
shields ready, the adrenaline building within them.
The ogre captain gave an evil, eager smile.
“Attack!” He shouted. “Attack!”
The ground
trembled beneath the pounding feet of the two
opposing armies. As the distance between them
became smaller they began running faster. A low
roar came from the mouths of Kepler’s infantry,
slowly rising into a cry of domination as they
neared their enemy. The gap closed, and blades
began to swing. Kepler and Luna dealt the first
fatal blows, dropping two goblin soldiers in cries
of pain. They quickly picked two new targets, then
dropped them too. Their blows were quick, accurate,
and fatal.
The two armies
crashed together, engulfing each other in a rage
that could only be found in war. The plains echoed
with sounds of steel meeting steel and blood
chilling screams of pain. But the screams were not
of Kijo’s army. The small branch of the Dark Army
was outnumbered, under skilled, and slowly but
surely being hacked to pieces. Only one stood a
fair chance.
The large ogre
captain was approached by an infantryman half his
size. He smiled eagerly as he swung his huge
two-handed sword at his tiny target. But the
infantryman did not allow his fears to grab him.
Spinning a full turn, he dodged the ogre’s blow and
landed one of his own. The ogre let go a yelp at
the stinging pain in his side just below his
breastplate. Frustrated, the ogre raised his
massive sword high above his head, then brought it
down with all his strength on the infantry man’s
awaiting shield. The force was great, and the
soldier was knocked to the ground. He scrambled
desperately to get to his feet, but the huge ogre
was already straddling him, his sword inverted and
ready to pierce the soldier’s armor.
The ogre
screamed and staggered backwards, his gruesome face
twisted with pain. He turned to find one of his
own, a kobold soldier, standing with a
blood-smeared dagger in his hand, and a blue and
gold cloth dangling from his wrist.
“You traitor,”
the ogre growled. “I will cut you to pieces and eat
your bones!”
He raised his
sword over his shoulder, ready to deal a fatal
blow. There was a loud metal clank, then an intense
pain. The ogre fell to the ground. His legs had
became lifeless, and his spine burned with pain.
The infantryman straddled the ogre captain,
inverted his sword, then drove it through the
ogre’s armor and into his heart. The ogre went
limp, his face in the dirt.
The
infantryman looked into the eyes of the kobold, his
dog like face half scorched by the fire. The kobold
smiled, then spoke. “We are friends for life.”
The battle
began to fade as the soldiers of the Dark Army
continued to fall. Some ran to the woods, feeling
their chances against the burning inferno were
better than facing their well trained enemy. Those
who chose to continue fighting died quickly. Kepler’s infantry stood tensely on the battlefield,
their swords and armor splattered with blood,
awaiting the next enemy that would challenge them,
but there were none. The air smelled of smoke and
spilled bowels. The once beautiful plain was now soaked with
blood and littered with crumpled bodies, lost
weapons, and severed limbs.
Kepler and
Luna moved to the center of the field where all
could see them. Luna stood tall, her face and hair
spattered with blood. She thrust her blood-stained
sword high into the air. “Victory is ours!” She
cried.
At the same moment of Kijo’s first battle, another
was brewing. A grotesque one-eyed dwarf wove his
way through the dimly lit halls of the dwarven
caves. The ogre lieutenant following cursed and
swore as he bumped his head on the low ceiling.
They came to a thick wooden door with a large brass
knob and lock. The dwarf inserted a large key,
turned it three times, then pushed the heavy door
open. He stepped aside and gestured for the ogre
lieutenant to enter.
“Your armor
awaits you, my lord,” the dwarf grumbled.
The ogre
lieutenant pushed passed the dwarf with an eager
smile, but his expression quickly changed when he
entered the massive room. Within its walls he found
hundreds of suits of armor, made to human
specifications. The suits sat properly in long rows
on finely crafted wooden benches, each suit tinted
blue and bearing a blue and gold star on its
breastplate. The ogre walked farther into the room,
his fists clenched tightly in anger.
“What is
this?” The ogre screamed. “What is this? This is
not the armor you were instructed to build! These
will never fit our troops!” He continued as he drew
his sword. “Your worthless life has just ended!”
The ogre
turned, only to find a tall man dressed in fine
white robes standing quietly behind him.
“That is odd,”
Centurion spoke calmly. “For I am feeling quite
well.”
The ogre froze
in fear, immediately recognizing the robes of a
lawful magic-user. He lunged forward at the wizard,
knowing he had only one chance to pierce his heart.
His blow was deflected by another sword, and the
large ogre stumbled back. Before him stood one of
the suits of armor, sword at the ready. Frustrated
and scared, the ogre swung his blade at his new
enemy only to have his blade deflected again. This
time however, an intense pain flashed through the
ogre’s gut. Paralyzed, he fell forward and latched
onto the shoulders of the armor. He looked down in
horror only to see the hilt of his enemy’s sword
protruding from his belly. With his last bit of
life he pushed open the visor of the armor’s helm,
and found it empty. The armor pulled its sword from
the ogre’s gut, allowing him to fall to the
floor.
“Star
Knights,” Centurion spoke boldly. “We must rid
these caves of this enemy rubbish. Start from the
deepest corridors and push them out the front
entrances. Those who resist will be destroyed.
Those who do not will be allowed to escape. Now
stand, Star Knights. Go forth and rid these caves
of evil.”
The empty
suits of armor rose to their feet, then in a single
file, walked into the halls and corridors. The
clanking of steel on steel and screams of pain and
horror could be heard almost immediately.
Dreadtar sat high in his saddle upon Reedex’s back.
The dragon growled and clawed at the ground
uneasily, feeling suspicious with the present
situation. Behind Dreadtar were his three dragon
riders, Barter, Teterrag, and Raltin, all sitting
tall on the backs of their dragons. Before them
stood an enormous Giant Redwood. The great tree
was hundreds of feet tall, and its giant limbs
seemed to extend for miles.
“Who are you,”
Dreadtar bellowed. “And why have you sent for me
and my officers?”
“Well it would
be a little difficult for me to come to you,
wouldn’t it now?” the large tree bellowed with an
enormous grin. “I am the Tree of All Knowing. I am
the oldest living thing on this island, and I know
everything. I know the past, I know the present,
and I know the future. I know your future Dreadtar,
and it is not good.”
“You know
nothing, Tree,” Dreadtar bellowed. “My army is more
powerful than ever and grows stronger every day.
Soon I will move my troops to the mainland where,
one by one, I will conquer the lands until I have
taken the world. Nothing can stop me!”
“So says the
old witch, Verica,” the tree responded. “Her days
left in this world are not many, and her mind is
fading.”
Dreadtar fell
silent. How the tree knew the name of his witch
baffled him, and made him uneasy.
“What do you
know of my future?” Dreadtar demanded.
“You army will
be crushed under the fists of Kellvo and the
Members of the Star. You will be wiped from this
land and your name shall be forgotten,” the tree
bellowed.
“Impossible,”
Dreadtar screamed. “I have had spies in their ranks
for years! I know their every move!”
“Then you
know,” the tree continued with a grin. “That as we
speak, your ambush party is being destroyed, the
dwarven mines are being rid of your troops, and the
halfling village is about to be liberated?”
Dreadtar’s
veins swelled with rage. With a roar of anger he
drew a spear from his saddle and heaved it at the
old tree. But the tree just smiled as the spear
passed harmlessly through him.
“You know,
Dreadtar,” the tree said calmly. “Your weakest
enemy will always be the inexperienced magic-user,
but your worst enemy will be the most powerful
ones.”
With that, the
tree turned into a fine green mist, then faded
away.
“I knew it!”
Reedex roared angrily. “It was a trick! Your armies
are now being attacked without their highest
leadership! They will be slaughtered!”
“Enough!”
Dreadtar shouted, slapping the dragon with the flat
of his sword. “Quickly, get back to your posts! Get
back to your posts!”
The enormous
dragons turned and separated from one another,
allowing space for each to open their giant wings.
In a huge cloud of dust the evil knights and
dragons took to the air, anxious to find what was
left of their posts.
The small branch of the Dark Army kept watch
diligently as the sun rose higher into the sky. The
entire branch had been moved to the east side of
the small halfling village. Gorter’s painful cries
had been heard for miles, and the small army took
it as a warning of something greater to come.
The large ogre
captain paced nervously among his line of troops.
The village seemed deserted. Its residents had all
been tied, gagged, and locked in their homes,
leaving only the goblins, orcs, and kobolds to
stir. They knelt low in the tall grass, waiting for
whatever was coming. A rustling was heard in the
distance, and the troops became tense.
“Captain,” a
kobold said in a loud whisper. “I hear something to
our front!”
The large ogre
hurried over to the kobold’s position and took a
knee. He looked over the tall grass across the
plains, but saw nothing.
“There is
nothing there,” the ogre complained.
“I know
Captain, but I know I heard something,” the kobold
exclaimed.
The ogre
stood, looking far into the distance. He noticed
the tall grass moving, but there was no wind. “What
madness is this?” he said to himself. He stared
intently at the moving grass, then an image came to
him.
Slowly,
figures became visible. They looked like
translucent people, and one very large mountain
lion. He continued to stare in confusion, then the
invisibility spell wore off and Fai’s troops were
upon him. “Attack!” The ogre yelled in a panic.
“Attack!”
“Go!” Fai
commanded as she motioned to her troops.
The animations
broke off into two groups and began closing in on
the village. The animations were greatly out
numbered as a result of Gorter’s attack, and even
their superior skills could not even the odds. Fai
let loose the only thing that could.
“Cat,” she cried. “Go!”
Cat hunched
down like a cat about to attack a mouse, then let
loose. His enormous claws dug deep into the earth,
and with lightning speed he was upon them. The evil
beasts screamed with horror at the sight of the
huge battlecat lunging at them. Cat went into a
rage, and Fai had to turn her head as the beasts
were savagely ripped to pieces. Their blood
chilling cries could barely be heard over Cat’s
metallic roar. She looked only for a second and saw
Cat violently shaking his head with a beast locked
in his jaws. When the beast stopped screaming, Cat
threw him across the village, then grabbed another.
The village echoed with the clanking of metal on
metal, and screams of pain and rage.
Fai quickly
moved herself away from the battle as magic-users
were not known for lasting long when swords were
swinging. As she watched the battle, a young goblin
fighting with great skill caught her eye. With a
sword in each hand he spun, dodged, stabbed, and
slashed, dropping his enemy one by one with quick
and accurate blows.
But this
goblin was not fighting the animations, he was
fighting his own.
“You worthless
traitor! I will... ahhhhh!” a goblin screamed as the
skilled goblin slashed his belly.
Fai looked
closer and noticed a gold and blue cloth dangling
from his wrist. She bore a smile, but it quickly
faded. Although the goblin was skilled, more and
more of the Dark Army soldiers became aware of him.
Suddenly, he
had four upon him. He continued to fight with all
his will, but their numbers were too great. Fai
gasped as one of the small orcs scored a stab in
the goblin's kidney. He let go a scream, then
another blade pierced his stomach. He fell to his
hands and knees, then the enemy troops closed on
him. The evil beasts repeatedly stabbed and beat
the goblin spy, showing no mercy.
“No!” Fai
cried in horror. She waved her hand and four
magical arrows shot from her sleeve, piercing the
bodies of the four beasts. They grabbed at the
arrows lodged into their torsos as they twisted and
fell. She ran to the fallen spy, now lying on his
back. She knelt by his side and touched his face.
His face was unlike any goblin she had ever seen,
for it was not twisted and grotesque like most. His
face was smooth, soft, and gentle.
“My lady,” he
gurgled.
“Rest, my
friend. I will get you a healer,” Fai said with a
shaky tone.
“No,” the
goblin said with a smile. “It is too late. My
wounds are serious. But I shall pass in peace, for
your beautiful face will be the last thing I see.
Tell me, my lady, is there room in the true God’s
heaven for goblins?”
“Of course
there is,” Fai said through tears and a smile. “The
true God sees only your heart, and yours is good
and pure.”
The goblin
smiled, then his head fell back and he died. Fai
jumped as a hand touched her shoulder. One of her
animations stood above her. It pointed across the
village with its wooden arm. Fai stood to see the
village cleared of their enemy, the majority of
them running across the fields heading west. Around
her were the slashed bodies of enemy troops and
blood stained grass.
“Reorganize
the troops,” she ordered. “Then find the villagers
and free them.”
The animation
obediently moved on.
Fai then
froze. Cat’s mouth and claws were covered with
blood, and his eyes were an eerie, deathly black.
He approached Fai as if he were stalking her, then
let go an evil growl. He stopped, stood straight,
then his eyes turned a pleasant gold. Fai let go
her breath. The silence was broken by the sounds of
happy voices. The local halflings ran into the
sunlight, greeting the animations as if they were
alive.
“God bless ya,
my lady,” a female halfling cried as she kissed
Fai’s hand. “You have saved us all.”
“‘Tis not
ended yet, my love,” Fai said. “Where is your
Sheriff?”
“I am here, my
lady,” an older halfling spoke.
“We must
reorganize,” Fai said anxiously. “I have but a
third of my army left, and I will need every soul
who is skilled with a blade and willing to fight.
There are new weapons and armor hidden for you off
the trail.”
“Our service
is yours,” the halfling said with pride.
The sun had risen full, removing the chill from the
air and warming the land below. Out at sea Aleena
wrapped herself in her cloak, chilled from the
still cool air on the water. The morning winds had
picked up, and the Avenger chopped through the sea,
its sails full. Aleena stared intently through a
small telescope at the two black specks approaching
her from the west. She then scanned to the north,
spotting her half-sister, her ship moving with full
speed from the north. The battle would be upon them
soon, and Aleena’s stomach turned. A vibration in
her pouch distracted her. She pulled out the large
green gem, closed her eyes, and concentrated.
“Aleena,”
Astain’s voice shouted within her head. “There is
an additional warship accompanying these two!”
Aleena rose
the telescope back to her eye and scanned the sea
nervously. She held the gem tightly and
concentrated. “I see only two,” she said within her
own mind.
“It’s hiding
behind the first warship,” Astain thought back.
“And it is huge. It bears many weapons and hundreds
more beasts.”
“Help is on
its way,” Kellvo’s voice interrupted. “Continue
with your mission. That third ship will be gone
before it reaches you.”
Aleena lowered
her telescope. Although she trusted Kellvo with all
her heart, the fear remained within her.
Kellvo stood atop Darriac Point, a large green gem
held firmly in his hand. “I do not like using these
methods,” he said quietly.
“I understand,
Kellvo,” Vermithrex said. “The most noble of
warriors are those who show mercy for their enemy,
but often war does not permit it. This is one of
those times, Kellvo. If I do not destroy that third
ship, Aleena and Astain will be overrun. Their
battle will be lost, and they will die horrible
deaths.”
“Then we
haven’t a choice,” Kellvo said, a firmness about
his face. “Go forth and do what you must. Be
careful, my old friend.”
Vermithrex
rose to his feet and spun half a turn, unfolding
his massive wings. “You too, take care, Kellvo. Are
you sure that old dog of yours will be sufficient
for your protection?” He asked with a grin.
Kellvo turned
to look at the giant dire wolf sleeping lazily on
his back in the warm sun. Dire was large, even for
a dire wolf, but time was catching up with him.
Light gray hairs had formed around his eyes and
mouth, and he was not as fast as he had been in his
younger years. But he and Kellvo had been together
since Dire was a pup, and they had shared many
great adventures together. Dire was faithful. He
had never left Kellvo’s side in times of danger,
and was willing to give his life to protect him.
“Oh don’t
worry about him,” Kellvo said with a smile. “His
senses are still sharp.”
With that,
Vermithrex took a mighty leap and caught the wind
with his massive wings.
Astain watched tensely from the deck of the Freedom
as the enemy ships came closer into view. Figures
scrambled about the decks preparing weapons and
sails for battle. From what Astain could tell, her
ship had not been spotted. “Moltres,” Astain called
out.
“Yes, Major
Sergeant,” the master armorer responded. The middle
aged man, wearing a graying beard and worn leather
armor, scurried across the deck.
“They seem to
be centering their attack on Aleena and her ship, I
believe we shall have the element of surprise,”
Astain said. Her tone was calm though her stomach
was turning. “Prepare your weapons. I want to
concentrate our attack on that warship closest to
us. Assure that your first attacks are precise. We
need to do as much damage to that ship as we can
before it turns on us.”
“I will aim
the catapult myself,” Moltres said with confidence.
“And that ship will sink.”
Aleena stood nervously on the bow of the Avenger.
The distance between her and the enemy ships had
closed quickly. She could now make out the crews’
twisted faces and hear their intimidating war
chants. The third ship had revealed itself, and the
three formed a column heading straight for the
Avenger. The ships were massive, all bigger than
her own, and the decks were so packed with beasts
that they barely had room to move about. Aleena
decided at that moment that ramming was not an
option, and that both her and Astain had to avoid
being rammed at all costs. With both their ships
sailing with only their minimum crews, they had no
way to fight off the beasts if they were to jump
aboard.
“What ever
you’ve planned, Kellvo,” she said to herself. “I
hope it comes soon.”
Aleena had no
sooner finished her thought when an ear-piercing
roar engulfed her ship. Vermithrex flashed past the
Avenger like a meteor, almost clipping the tallest
mast. He then laid fire on the deck of the third
war ship, setting it ablaze from bow to stern.
Aleena gasped in horror. The beasts of the Dark
Army screamed blood chilling screams of agony as
they were set aflame. They fought frantically
amongst each other, trying desperately to reach the
sides of the ship. Burning bodies fell and
hissed as they plunged into the cold ocean. Below
deck, the beasts screamed
in panic as they tried to claw their way through
the ship’s thick hull, the fire sucking their
precious air away from them.
Both the crews
from Aleena and Astain’s ships stared in shock at
the engulfed ship, the flames reaching as high as
it's highest mast. Vermithrex banked south, then
hovered himself well in view of the remaining
ships. All eyes locked onto him.
Astain awoke
from her trance. “He’s distracting them,” she
whispered to herself. The Freedom was still sailing
fast, approaching the enemy ships from their port
sides unnoticed.
“Moltres,” she
screamed. “Begin the attack!”
Moltres ran to
the bow where a large catapult stood ready, its
beam pulled back and its bowl loaded with a large
boulder. Moltres put his eye to a very technical
sight he had designed himself, then centered the
crosswires on the enemy ship. “Three degrees left,”
he instructed the catapult crew.
“And two more
notches tension!” The team of three began turning a
series of wheels, causing the catapult to turn,
while the fourth pulled at a long lever, lowering
the beam ever so slightly.
“Good, right
there! Now stand by,” Moltres ordered. A halfling
held firmly to a rope attached to the release
mechanism. “And... loose!”
The halfling
pulled hard on the rope, the beam whipped upright,
and the boulder hurled through the air. Moltres
watched intently as the boulder smashed into the
hull of the enemy ship just below the water line.
“Perfect!”
Moltres cried. “Quickly, reload, reload!”
From below the
decks of the wounded warship, goblins, orcs, and
kobolds screamed in panic as the icy water rushed
through the ship's hull.
“Quiet, you
fools,” a large ogre captain commanded. “Stop your
whimpering and block that hole!”
A second
boulder smashed its way into the ship, crushing
five and allowing the water to flow. The
panic-stricken beasts began climbing over one
another trying to reach the stairs to the upper
decks. Another boulder smashed its way through the
ship's hull, then another.
From the upper
deck the ship’s ogre captain bellowed orders in
frustration. “Turn about, turn about! Prepare those
weapons!” He pushed his way across the crowded deck
to the port side and looked over the railing. He
moaned in dismay at the sight of the four gaping
holes in the hull of his ship.
Aleena watched with hope in her heart as Astain’s
crew continued to pummel the enemy ship with
boulder after boulder. Her attention was quickly
drawn to a splash toward the front of her ship, its
mist spraying over the deck. “What was that?” she
asked herself.
“Major
Sergeant,” a voice called from the crow’s nest.
“Catapult shot to our port, close to the bow!”
Aleena ran to
the port where three catapults sat loaded and
ready.
“Gerff,” she
called to her master armorer. “What’s happening?”
A heavy dwarf
wearing a long beard and banded armor turned.
“They're lobbing stones at us, my lady,” the dwarf
said in amazement.
“But how can
that be?” Aleena exclaimed. “We’re nowhere close
to being within range!”
A second
boulder lobbed toward the ship, this one smashing
the catapult on the port side and sending Aleena
and her crew diving for cover.
“I don’t know
how they’re doing it,” the dwarf grumbled as he
pushed sections of splintered lumber off his body.
“But they are, and we won’t last long if we don’t
do something soon.”
“How much
closer do you need to be to hit them with ours?”
Aleena asked anxiously.
“About 300
feet, my lady,” Gerff answered.
Without
another word Aleena turned and ran back to the poop
deck. “Captain,” she ordered to a large man behind
the ship’s wheel. “Take us starboard about ten
degrees. We need to get close enough to that ship
to use our catapults without exposing them.”
“Yes, Major
Sergeant,” the captain responded. He began
bellowing orders to the crew. Sails began to drop,
booms began to swing, and the massive ship began
turning to the north. Another boulder smashed into
the ship, crushing a section of railing and
splintering the deck on the port side, but causing
no serious damage.
Astain watched the damaged enemy ship intently as
it now faced her head on. The laboring ship leaned
painfully to its port side as it continued to take
in water. Another shot lobbed off their bow and
fell deep within the deck of the enemy ship, it’s
front mast shaking as it took a direct hit. Two
catapults from the sinking ship loosed their shots.
Astain watched with concern, but the leaning of the
enemy ship made it difficult for the Dark Army
crews to aim the clumsy weapons. The shots plunged
harmlessly into the ocean.
“Moltres,”
Astain shouted across the deck. “How long until
that ship will sink?”
“Too long,”
Moltres cried back. “We need to take out their
sails, but I can’t do it fast enough by hitting
their masts. I need to use flaming grapeshot, my
lady.”
Astain stood
quiet for a moment; the nauseating smell of the
burning beasts still lingered in the air.
Destroying enemy by fire was strongly opposed by
the Members of the Star, and was to be used only
when absolutely necessary. In this war, it had
already been too often necessary.
“You may use
fire,” Astain authorized. “Forgive me, my Lord,”
she said quietly, her eyes to the sky.
The catapult
crew began dumping buckets full of small stones
into the catapult’s bowl, then poured a barrel of
thick oil over them.
“Ready,” the
halfling called out as he secured his rope. Moltres
continued looking intently through his sight.
“Light the stones,” he ordered, and the oil was set
ablaze. “And... loose!”
The catapult
beam stood erect, and the hundreds of burning
stones launched toward the enemy ship. Astain
watched intently as the stones pelted the ship's
sails, setting them ablaze. The numerous small
fires began to spread, joining one another until
the sails were completely engulfed. The wounded
ship began to slow as the wind passed through the
burning sails. Within moments the sails were gone,
and the enemy ship was dead in the water. The crew
of the Freedom cried a victorious cheer as the big
ship continued to lean, its crew scrambling for the
too few lifeboats.
With the enemy ship well within range, Aleena’s two
remaining catapult crews began frantically lobbing
shots. Gerff cheered aloud as his well-aimed stone
smashed into one of the three enemy catapults.
Aleena watched intently, her ship becoming far
closer to the enemy than was comfortable for her.
“Captain,”
Aleena spoke. “We must avoid contact with that ship
at all costs. We cannot let them board us.”
“Yes, Major
Sergeant,” the captain responded. “My lady, there
is something burning on their deck.”
Aleena spun to
face the port and rose her telescope to her eye.
She quickly spotted the burning pot of a loaded
catapult aimed directly at her.
“Gerff,” she
screamed. “They’re going to use fire on us!”
The enemy
catapult’s beam stood erect, and the flaming
boulder lobbed toward them.
“Take cover!”
Gerff screamed.
The flaming
shot smashed into the deck just short of the front
mast, splintering the deck and setting it ablaze.
“All hands,
all hands,” Aleena ordered. “Put that fire out!
Gerff, take out that catapult!”
“My lady,” the
captain interrupted. “We won’t last long against
that. Their ship is faster than our own, and I can
continue to evade them for only so long. We must do
something.”
Aleena stared
at the enemy ship for a short moment, studying its
tall masts and giant sails. “Captain,” she said
anxiously. “Our only chance of winning this is to
take out their sails. Move the ship into position
for a ram, I want to hit them bow to bow.”
The captain
looked upon Aleena with an eager smile. “I take it
we’ll be using the secret weapon, my lady?”
“It is our
only chance Captain, and we’ve only one pass to
make it work,” Aleena spoke softly, desperation in
her eyes.
“One pass is
all I require,” the captain said reassuringly.
Again the
captain began bellowing orders as he turned the
ship's wheel. Sails drooped and booms swung, and the
Avenger began to turn. A flash of light caught Aleena’s eye as the enemy crew lit the bowl of
another catapult shot.
“Gerff!”
Aleena shouted.
The dwarf paid
her no mind and continued looking through his
sight. He held his short arm above his head,
paused, then dropped it. The Avenger’s catapult
launched a huge boulder toward the enemy ship. The
boulder soared gracefully over the sea then smashed
into the enemy catapult, its burning oil spilling
about and setting the deck ablaze. Gerff turned to
Aleena and smiled, then took a deep bow.
“We are ready,
my lady,” the captain said calmly.
Aleena looked
toward the huge enemy warship, its enormous bow
breaking the water as it pushed its way forward.
Although the Avenger had a stronger wind to its
sails, Aleena knew that the bow of her ship would
be reduced to splinters if she were to ram. She
held nervously to the railing on the poop deck.
“All hands,
all hands,” the captain bellowed. “Find something
sturdy and hold tight. We’ve a little surprise for
all of you.” The captain wore a broad smile.
The two ships
continued lobbing shots at each other as the
distance between them continued to close. Gerff
dropped his arm again and the beam of his catapult
stood erect, but the stress of battle had weakened
the massive weapon, causing the frame to snap. The
shot flew wildly, missing its target and falling
harmlessly into the icy waters. Gerff cursed as he
threw his helmet at the disabled weapon, then
ordered his crew to assist the others on their last
remaining catapult. Two shots from the Dark Army’s
ship hit low on the Avenger’s bow and sent tremors
throughout the entire vessel. Aleena watched
intently as the soldiers of the Dark Army began
pushing their way to the bow of their ship, eager
to board the moment the two ships collided. She
looked back nervously to her captain.
“Just a few
moments more, my lady,” the captain said, sensing
her tension.
Aleena looked
back to the enemy ship. The small branch of the
Dark Army bellowed chants of war as they waved
their weapons intimidatingly. She could almost make
out their twisted faces.
“Now, my
lady,” the captain bellowed. “Now!”
Aleena held
strongly to the railing, her eyes shut tight and
her lips curling as she summoned the magic of the
Avenger. “Fly,” she commanded. “Fly!”
The massive
ship began rocking from bow to stern, much to the
bewilderment of its crew. The bow sank deeper into
the icy water with every turn, splashing the
catapult crews who held desperately to the ships’
railing. Then, with one final thrust, the Avenger
rose from the water like a giant whale, but
continued to fly. The beasts of the Dark Army
scrambled in panic as the flying ship leveled off
and continued forward. The catapult crews loosed
their shots in a last attempt to stop the magical
ship, creating two fresh holes in its hull, but
doing nothing to break its path.
The panicked
beasts began jumping overboard as the bottom of the
Avenger’s hull smashed through the railing of the
enemy ship, crushing its catapults and splintering
the deck. The Avenger continued on, reaching the
first mast and snapping it like a twig. Ropes gave
way, and the massive sail fell into the ocean. The
ogre captain watched in awe as the second mast was
splintered, then screamed and jumped overboard
as the Avenger smashed through the poop
deck, taking with it the steering wheel and
rudders. Aleena looked back as the ship completed
its pass. The enemy ship was in ruins, and the
ocean was littered with timber and panicked beasts. They held
helplessly to fragments of their defeated ship,
trying desperately to stay afloat.
The Avenger
slowly descended and settled gently into the cold
sea.
From the deck of the Freedom, Astain and her crew
cheered aloud at the sight they had just seen. With
the defeat of the third enemy war ship, the battle
at sea had been won. She rose her telescope and
began scanning the waters. The three ships of the
Dark Army drifted helplessly as they began their
long journey to the bottom of the sea, their sails
collapsed and their decks and hulls destroyed. The
waters were littered with debris and the bodies of
beasts, some drowned and some burned. Screams of
panic filled the air as the surviving beasts fought
over lifeboats and pieces of floating debris. The
smell of smoke and burning flesh turned Astain’s
stomach. She turned her attention to her sister’s
ship and noticed the crew running about.
A man emerged
from the lower decks and ran to Aleena, his
clothing drenched. She watched as Aleena
fumbled with something in her hands, then felt a
vibration in her pouch. She pulled the large green
gem and closed her eyes in concentration. Aleena’s
voice spoke in her head. “We’re sinking.”
Deep within the forest of the elves, all was quiet.
The spy from the Dark Army had successfully
returned to the elven village and warned his
commander of an army that would be attacking them
from the east. The Ogre captain had the elven
slaves tied, gagged, and tucked away, then moved
all his troops to the east side of the village into
defensive positions.
“Let them try
to take this village,” the ogre captain grumbled to
himself. “I will slaughter them like pigs!”
On the west
side of the village five guards remained, watching
the woods diligently. Two orcs huddled together
nervously behind a large fallen tree.
“Do you see
anything?” one snorted to the other.
The second
wrinkled his pig-like nose. “No,” he grunted.
Deep in the
woods the sound of a stick snapping broke the
silence, and the two orcs ducked behind the fallen
tree.
“What was
that?” the paranoid beast whispered.
Without
answering, the second slowly raised his head above
the tree, his crossbow cocked and ready. He scanned
the woods, then slowly rose some more, exposing his
neck and shoulders. There was a twang in the woods,
a whip in the air, and the orc lunged back. He fell
to the ground kicking in pain, grabbing at the
crossbow bolt which had pierced his voice box. The
first orc looked upon the beast in horror, then ran
in fear. Keeping low he scurried along the length
of the tree, crossbow in hand, then stopped at the
exposed roots. He swallowed hard, then slowly
peered around the tree. Before him stood a huge
man. His clothes were of forest green and brown,
and his face smeared with green paint. His thick
leather armor was darkly tanned and bore a
symbol of a large black star. The man drew back his
huge fist, then clobbered the beast, rendering him
unconscious.
The ogre
captain looked to the west side of the village,
trying to locate the source of the ruckus he had
heard. He grunted and dismissed it as nothing.
“Stay alert,
you runts,” he grumbled. “The enemy is near, I can
feel it.”
A hail of
crossbow bolts whipped through the air, sinking
deep into the backs of several beasts. Their howls
and screams echoed throughout the forest. The ogre
captain spun half a turn, his sword drawn, only to
find himself facing an entire army of elves and
humans. Their earth toned clothing and paint
smeared faces blended perfectly with the forest,
and their tanned leather armor allowed them to move
in absolute silence. But the time for moving
silently was now over.
“Attack!” Hal
shouted.
Hal’s army
rushed through the village, screaming a war cry as
they charged their confused and stunned enemy.
“Turn about,”
the ogre captain screamed with urgency. “Turn
about! They’re attacking from behind!”
The beasts
turned and loosed the bolts from their crossbows
wildly, dropping only two from Hal’s army. No
sooner did they drop their bows and draw their
swords and the battle was upon them. The sounds of
metal on metal and screams of pain and rage echoed
throughout the forest as the furious battle began.
For the elves, this battle was quite personal. A
third of the Dark Army, panic stricken by the sight
and ferocity of the camouflaged army, jumped the
barricades and began running wildly into the woods.
“Attack!”
Lurana screamed.
The forest to
the east came to life as Lurana’s army revealed
themselves and charged toward the village. The
deserting beasts screamed in fright and scattered
throughout the woods. They ran like fools, leaving
behind a trail of discarded weapons and shields.
“Let them go,”
Lurana ordered. “The battle is up there!”
Lurana’s army
continued its charge, meeting its opposition with a
fury found only in war. The Dark Army fought
frantically, finding themselves trapped in the
midst of their enemy.
The huge ogre
captain fought diligently, using not only his
sword, but his massive fists and feet as well.
Soldier after soldier was met with skillfully
placed slashes, punches, and kicks which sent them
tumbling to the ground in pain. Hal approached the
beast with his sword at the ready, and anger in his
heart.
“Surrender
your army now, or die!” Hal exclaimed.
The ogre
laughed out loud, then took on a vicious face. “I
will kill you slowly, Elf. Very slowly.”
“I was hoping
you would resist,” Hal said, the anger swelling
within him.
“As was I!” A
smooth voice exclaimed from behind the beast. The
ogre captain turned calmly to face Lurana. She
threw down her shield and gripped her heavy sword
with both hands.
“Finally,” the
ogre grumbled. “A bit of a challenge.”
He threw down
his sword, then smiled evilly as he drew an
enormous two-handed sword from his back. Its blade
was longer than Hal himself, and its subdued hilt
was finely crafted. He maneuvered the blade
skillfully about his body, then held it at the
ready.
“Now you die,”
the ogre growled.
Hal lunged at
the beast, but his blade was skillfully deflected.
Hal quickly dropped and rolled, dodging the ogre’s
strike which would have easily cut him in two.
Lurana gave a war cry and rushed the beast from
behind, but her blade was stopped by his huge
armored wrist. The ogre swung his leg and swept
Lurana’s feet, sending her to the ground, then
kicked her hard in the ribs. Lurana gave a gasp as
her small body was sent tumbling, the wind knocked
out of her. The ogre turned back to Hal and raised
the massive sword above his head, eager to deal the
final blow.
“So much for a
challenge,” the ogre said with an evil smile.
Hal spun a
full turn, whipping his blade and deeply slashed
the ogre’s exposed belly. The ogre gurgled, choking
on his own blood as he clutched his wound. Within
his hand he held his own intestines. Lurana, still
gathering her breath, scrambled to her feet and
rushed the beast from behind. She thrust her blade
into his kidney, not stopping until her hilt met
flesh. The ogre twisted and fell to one knee, his
face grimacing with pain as his organs spilled from
his wounds. Hal took one final slash, cutting
the beast’s throat and sending him to the ground.
The two elves stood calmly together over the
mangled ogre captain and watched as the blood
poured from his wounds.
The forest
fell silent. Despite the ferocity of the battle, it
was over quickly. The Dark Army had suffered a
great loss to the stealthy Army of the Star. But
the leather armor of the soldiers which gave them
their silence also left them vulnerable to blades.
Many had been struck. Hal and Lurana’s trances were
broken by a young fighter.
“Master
Sergeants,” he said out of breath. “The battle has
been won, but we have many wounded.”
“Tell the
wounded to drink their healing potions,” Hal
commanded. “Then gather up a team and find the
villagers. Tell the healers we need them here right
away.”
“Yes, Master
Sergeant,” the soldier said, then moved quickly.
Lurana placed her arm around Hal’s waist. He looked
down at her, and for the first time in a long time,
saw her smile.
“We did it,”
she said, her smile growing. She threw her arms
around Hal’s neck and squeezed him tightly. “We did
it!”
The Avenger and the Freedom floated calmly
together, side by side on the big blue ocean. The
crew of the Avenger had crossed over to the
Freedom, Aleena being the last. Vermithrex swooped
down from the sky and hovered beside Aleena’s
crippled ship.
“I don’t
understand, Vermithrex,” Aleena exclaimed. “It’s a
magical ship. Why are we sinking?”
“It is an old
ship, my lady,” Vermithrex explained. “Centuries
older than yourself. Its magic has been exhausted.”
“But can’t
Kellvo refurbish its’ magic?” She asked
desperately.
The emotion in
Aleena’s voice reminded Vermithrex just how
precious the old ship was to her. Aleena had spent
much of her life on the decks of the Avenger. She
and Kijo had been married on the old ship, and they
had planned to sail around the world. But now, so
many wonderful memories and so many future dreams
were slowly sinking.
“I’m afraid
that even Kellvo does not have those powers,” he
said.
“There are few
magic ships left in this world. This one has served
us well. It is time to say good-bye.”
“I don’t want
to let it go,” Aleena said, a tear running down her
cheek.
“Come, my
love,” Vermithrex said softly. “It is time to go.”
Aleena
squeezed the railing of her ship tightly, then bent
over and kissed the wooden side. She crossed the
deck and stepped over the railing and onto the
Freedom, then into the waiting arms of her
half-sister.
Part Three
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