As he continued to survey the field, Elor approached him. The young imp looked distant yet determined. Scanning the field himself, Elor then looked up at the elf Ranger. "Do you think they will show, captain?" he asked.
Captain Shael nodded. "I am absolutely certain of it. Norrex would not pass on an opportunity to make an example of the light. The challenge has been made. To pass on it would show weakness and weakness is not something his dark master would tolerate," he replied.
Elor looked about at those assembled as sadness filled his eyes. "I fear we may not be enough to repel them," he said.
Captain Shael then smiled down at the imp. "Strength is more than numbers, Elor. Our enemy is limited in thinking from its lust for power. They mean to overwhelm all who oppose them. But there are things that counter this," he said.
"Like what?" asked the imp.
"Tactics, guile, and ability," replied the elf. "And never forget hope. I assure you these things will even the playing field in the end."
"I hope you are right," uttered Elor as he looked up at Captain Shael. "But I would follow you or Patch to the ends of Lunaria and back regardless."
Captain Shael placed a hand on Elor's shoulder. "I can assure you, my friend, that the world needs more Elors and Theophilus Thistles," he said.
Elor looked then out at the barley field as his eyes narrowed. "I am scared though, captain. Because there is a part of me that wants to burn them all down and make them feel the pain they have placed upon me. Does that make me any better than them?"
Captain Shael squeezed the imp's shoulder then. "Yes, you feel that now because you still hurt, but it will pass. And once it does you will still be Elor. I know that. Theophilus knows that and Marin certainly did too. And this I know with certainty."
Elor thought on these words before nodding. "Thank you, Captain Shael. I will do my best today," he said.
"I know you will," said Captain Shael before holding up a hand. "Now ready yourself, for I fear the enemy is upon us."
Captain Shael’s words were true, for before them the field of barley trembled, sending the crop into frenzy. Upon the other side of the field, a mound of soil rose before revealing the devoted orc shaman Dobah. Captain Shael’s eyes fixed on his enemy. Crimson robes now freed from the ground billowed in the wind as the scepter in Dobah’s hand glowed furiously. The shaman stood alone, but Captain Shael knew it was but a ruse.
At the sight of the Ranger and his small force, Dobah shook his head, grunting his disapproval. “A pity,” he said, his voice magically carried across the field. “I had hoped you would bring more of a challenge to me, Ranger. I can take little pleasure in crushing such a meager resistance.”
Captain Shael readied his bow, ensuring he was prepared to let an arrow fly in a moment’s notice. “I will consider your overconfidence a great advantage, orc,” he replied, letting his voice carry across the field by its own merit. “The treachery you have wrought upon these lands is at an end, Dobah. Surrender now and I promise you will not be harmed.”
Dobah offered a grim smirk. “I know you speak those words as a formality, yet you would be a fool to believe in them. This land is ours now, and soon this world shall follow. You and your friends have been an irksome annoyance, but we shall end that on this day,” he said.
Captain Shael exchanged a glance with Elor before refocusing on Dobah. “Last chance, orc. You are goading a battle that you will not win,” he thundered.
At this, Dobah did laugh. “You are offering foolishness now, captain. Allow me to offer you power. Real power,” he said before raising his scepter.
With the power funneled through his scepter, Dobah’s magic catered to his will. Holes gasped from the ground, allowing a slew of minions to spit from the depths. Captain Shael and the others watched as the grounds behind Dobah swelled with hundreds upon hundreds of enemies. Orcs, goblins, and plants formed rank, snarling their hunger to tear across the barley field at their quarry. Many in the Ranger’s ranks felt their courage waver, yet Captain Shael held up a steady hand, reminding them to hold fast.
When Dobah’s spell was finished, Captain Shael estimated the enemy’s numbers to be at least 2,000, which meant they were outnumbered four to one. The elf had known that this would be the case, and yet it was even more than he had feared. Still, he remained steadfast, for if he faltered, so would the defenders under his command. They had a plan, and the Ranger would see it through to the end.
Holding out his hands, Dobah motioned to his small army, pointing at it with his scepter. “Now do you see, Captain Shael? What you have faced to this point was but a glimpse. Now you bear witness to the truth. Now you understand. It matters not if you fight. It matters not if you flee. We will soon wash over you regardless and make you an example to all others foolish enough to challenge us.”
Captain Shael shook his head. “You are the fool then, Dobah. And you will see in the end when your masters turn on you. Such is the way of evil. That is the truth you will see on this day,” he countered.
Dobah’s eyes narrowed. It was clear the time for talk was fading fast. “Let us waste no more words. Let the truth be told in steel and wrath,” he stormed before pointing his scepter forward. “To battle!” he roared.
Now unleashed, the force under Dobah exploded forward, weapons held high. The bloodlust in the collective of eyes rushing across the field of barley was unnerving. So hungry for battle they were that soldiers trampled over those before them to get to Captain Shael and his group. The Ranger captain watched silently, unmoved by the approaching wave. Casually he procured an arrow and placed it upon his bow. Saying a magical word, the arrow tip burst into flame before Captain Shael drew back upon his bow and fired.
The arrow soared upward in an arc before descending upon the field before Dobah's forces. Instantly the flaming arrow met with the concoction that Captain Shael had spread tactically across the battle field. Fire immediately erupted from the barley, creating a wall of flame and giving Moreg’s minions pause. Many of them spat and cursed at the fire, yet none were foolish enough to traverse through the violent flames.
At this, Dobah nodded grimly, a glimmer of a grin rising to his face. "An old tactic, Shael! I expected more from a Ranger of your caliber," he said before utilizing his scepter. Suddenly the land rose from beneath the flame and a fount of water descended upon the fires. At this, Dobah's minions cheered.
In response, Captain Shael smiled. "I was hoping you would say that, orc," he replied before raising his voice. "Kelisay, now!"
Kelisay the kelpie responded instantly, rushing forward with her magical companions, the small group conjured their magic upon the waters brought on by Dobah. Kelisay used her command of the element to direct the pouring fount upon Dobah's forces. The flood hit them fully and the strength of the water halted or felled those it struck. As Kelisay concentrated on this, her companions froze the spewing fount. Soon, ice covered the bulk of their enemies, chilling and holding them in place. Even those that were not frozen faced the perils of walking on a sheet of ice. The act put Dobah's group into utter disarray as they clamored to be free of the ice.
Taking advantage of the tactic, Captain Shael unleashed upon his enemy with his arrows as he commanded the other. "Archers! Casters! Fire at will!"
Captain Shael's command was quickly heeded by the Rangers present. Volleys of arrows soon fell upon their enemies. Seconds later, Kelisay's group launched watery assaults upon Dobah's minions, adding to the disarray. Elor joined the attack as well, not holding back as he unleashed fireball after fireball upon the regrouping opposition. Dobah roared as he realized that he had been tricked.
The surprise and assault benefited Captain Shael's force. The attacks were eating slowly at the overwhelming opposition before them. Captain Shael kept firing, determined to do so until he had not an arrow left in his quiver. His comrades followed suit, understanding that every moment of opportunity was crucial in this battle.
Yet even this surprise could not last fo
rever, for Dobah rallied. Using his scepter and shaman magics, the orc moved the land, coursing it like a wave through the barley. The action broke the ice, freed his men and pushed them forward. Regrouping, the gathered force of darkness rushed onward with renewed vigor, hungry for a counterassault. The moments of helplessness had merely channeled their bloodlust.
Realizing they had gotten what they could from the surprise, Captain Shael drew his sword. "To me, my friends! Defend the light at all costs! Charge!" he said defiantly before rushing to meet the opposition. Bolstered by his actions, his battle group quickly followed. The forces of the darkness and light ran swiftly toward one another as the field of barely was littered with carnage and defiant war cries.
Trailing behind his forces, Dobah raised his scepter, letting a powerful light thunder from it. “The darkness bolsters you, my brethren! Tear them apart!”
As the two sides prepared to connect in the middle of the barley field, Captain Shael emitted a sharp whistle. As he did, defenders rose from the barley, where they had been hiding. Their positioning, along with the bulk of their force, had the enemy boxed in from three sides. This gave Dobah’s forces pause as they absorbed this revelation. Captain Shael capitalized on this as his main force connected with the front line of their enemy.
Leading the fray, Captain Shael let the sword in his hand administer unrelenting punishment as his actions inspired his forces. As he pushed on the front lines, his new forces pushed in from the sides. The action nullified some of the number superiority as weapons and magic crushed fully into Moreg’s minions. The orcs, goblins, and weeds tried to regroup as the forces of light valiantly refused to yield.
Captain Shael continued to press forward, refusing to halt or hesitate. Elor kept close to the Ranger captain, hurling fireballs at those that got to close to him or Shael. The horde before them faltered as they still clamored to recover momentum. Dobah’s forces had expected a routing and their overconfidence was costing them presently.
Watching the battle grimly, Dobah had seen quite enough. His displeasure over the success of his enemy and the failure of his men irritated him to no end. The orc looked about the battlefield, deciding his next action. Suddenly a feral grin broke upon his face. He would have victory on this day and nothing less than that would do.
Harnessing power to his scepter, Dobah’s voice scoured the battlefield. “I let power deem judge, jury, and executioner on this day!” he roared before his scepter enacted his dark designs.
The battered field of barley quickly erupted with a horrid wrath. Rock and soil spat upwards in powerful surges and great shards tore through the forces of light and darkness alike. Dobah’s reach was indiscriminate, felling friend and foe alike. The forces giving battle were placed in disarray by the shaman’s sudden assault.
Captain Shael, barely dodging a rising assault of rock realized the time had come. His group had done all they could. “Fall back! To the trees! Find sanctuary in the forest! Fall back!” The elf Ranger continued to fight and cover his allies as he slowly retreated, making sure no one was left behind.
Pulling back from the enemy and the magical assault, Captain Shael’s forces began a steady retreat. Kelisay and her fellow water creatures tried to cover them through the ferocity, giving them a chance to escape. Grabbing Elor and slinging him on his back, Captain Shael at last turned and joined his army. On his heels was a force of evil bent on revenge and blood.
At the sight of the full-on retreat, Dobah offered a genuine smile. Yet this smile grew feral only a moment later as he pointed to the wake of Shael’s retreat. “Follow them, my brethren! Victory is at hand! Let judgment be known. No survivors! No mercy!”
At his words, the forces under his charge filled the field with howls and victorious glee.
CHAPTER seven
Assault on the Citadel
Quietly, Theophilus Thistle made his way toward the Fireborn Citadel, the realm of his sworn enemy, alone. The little weed left the command of their group in the capable hands of Captain Shael. Theophilus never saw himself as a leader, and he knew he could be of more use somewhere else. Putting his talents to use, the little weed decided to try and end the scourge that was Norrex once and for all.
Theophilus looked up at the Firestar to gauge the time. By now Captain Shael and the others were facing the full might of Moreg’s forces. He hoped that the plan would hold. For the moment, Theophilus had to ready himself for his own task. He had no idea what to expect and so he prepared himself to face the absolute worse.
The little weed kept his wits about him as he surveyed his surroundings. He was close to the citadel, and this was confirmed by the swelling silence of the Shadowpine forest. The evil that permeated from the bowels of the Gnarled Fang Butte was almost tangible. Theophilus hated being this close to such evil, even more so facing the task alone. But he knew this is how it had to be. Captain Shael had his task and he held his own. For the kingdom, for his friends, Norrex the Deathshade had to be stopped.
No matter the cost.
A familiar voice filled Theophilus’s mind then. You have often had bad ideas. I would wager that this one is by far the worst yet, it said.
Theophilus looked over his shoulder at the wand that rested upon his back. You pick the strangest times to stop giving me the silent treatment, Digus, he replied in his mind. The growing connection between wand and owner meant they needed no words to convey their thoughts.
Theophilus could feel the wand’s annoyance as it replied. I merely speak when there is something worth saying. And you rushing us to our inevitable demise certainly merits a response, said the wand.
Theophilus shook his head as he continued his trek. You have always thought the absolute worse of our adventures, he mused.
Perhaps, countered the wand. But you have been fortunate in the past. I concede that you are brave, but no one can remain lucky forever, Theophilus. You have tremendous heart and courage, more so than your body can endure. I might even grudgingly respect you for that. But to challenge this citadel alone is suicide.
Take heart, Digus, for I am not alone, countered the weed. I have you after all.
Even with my strength I am not enough to remotely even these odds. I sense the evil that lies ahead. You would be wise to turn back now, said Digus.
Theophilus paused, clenching his fists. You know that I cannot do that, he replied.
I do, said Digus. But I must try for reason anyway. As much as I loathe being in your possession at times, it is Firestar light compared to belonging to someone like the Deathshade.
That was almost a compliment, said Theophilus.
I hope that she is worth it, Theophilus, said Digus.
Theophilus sighed. You joined our minds together so that we could talk once. You have felt her spirit. You know that she is, Digus, he said.
I do, said Digus
Look, if this is to be our last battle together, let us make it one worth recounting. A wand of your renown deserves that at least, said Theophilus.
As does a weed of your stature. Good luck, Theophilus Thistle, said Digus before saying no more. Deciding not to ruin a moment, Theophilus joined Digus in silence and pushed forward.
Seconds later, Theophilus laid his eyes upon the ominous citadel. A shiver rushed through him as he smelled the dark recesses, savagely hinting of roasted meats, burnt offerings, and fear. Even in the light, a darkness permeated from the chiseled rock. The display was bold audacity, even hidden within the forests of Shadowpine. Most of the inhabitants of the fortress were gone, but this did little to dampen the ill feelings brought on by the citadel.
Theophilus scoured about looking for signs of his enemies. The citadel looked unguarded, yet the observation brought no comfort to the little weed. He could hear the steady murmuring of words of some arcane ritual. Soon this was followed by a drum of chanting that further chilled Theophilus. He tried to find the source of this, realizing quickly that it was coming from above the citadel.
Theophilus looked up.
Towering up the butte well above the citadel was a large ledge, likely formed with the help of a shaman’s magic. Resting upon the ledge was a dark altar. There standing before the altar and surrounded by chanting minions was Norrex. The vile pantheryn held his clawed hands above his head as he offered sinister words of incantation. As Theophilus narrowed his eyes upon him, Norrex stopped and turned to look at him.
“Theophilus Thistle,” boomed Norrex as he grinned. The gleam of his white fangs could be seen even from the great distance. “I have been expecting you! I knew that it would be you who would come to try and stop me.”
Theophilus nodded. “Just as I knew that you would send your lackeys to fight in your place,” he challenged.
Norrex spat a harsh laugh at the notion. “You still do not see, do you? You and your allies are insignificant in the grander order of things. I send my minions for I hold a greater purpose, one that transcends us all. It is the work of my master and his will shall be done,” he said.
“I have stopped you before, Norrex, and I will stop you again,” said Theophilus.
Norrex shook his head, still smiling. “You have only delayed me in the past, nothing but a nuisance, a fly to be swatted in the end,” he replied before procuring a slab of glowing stone and a vial full of a swirling, purple concoction. “Will you still choose to not see? Will you still not understand? I hold in my hands the path to absolute victory. The real threat to your world is here and not with an army that your little band hopes to defeat. You all, through death or disgrace, shall see that soon enough.”
“I do not know of what delusion you speak of, but it ends now with you, Norrex,” said Theophilus.
Norrex laughed once more, looking between the vial and the slab of stone. “Silly little fool, oblivious to the fact that it is you that I have to thank for this moment. It is your blood and the blood of your friends that have fueled my purpose. It is because of you that I further the cause. Take this knowledge with you to the Dream, for not only have you failed, Theophilus Thistle, but you have aided the forces of darkness on this day! Hope dies further in this moment. The light has failed you and the light will continue to fail, for even the hopes of the Dreamer have been squashed on this day!”
The Adventures of Theophilus Thistle Page 31