Although they outnumbered us significantly, the forces of the Dark Lands were falling before us like dominoes due to their inability to join together; crumbling just like the Realms might have if they’d failed to unify beneath my banner. Even though they still fought against us, unless something changed drastically, the eventual outcome of this war seemed to be all but assured.
In addition to the strongholds my Army destroyed, we also came across many settlements while we trekked across the Dark Lands. Although they showed signs of recent habitation, nearly all of them had been abandoned ahead of our arrival. All save one.
When we approached the tiny hamlet, it looked much like all the others we’d come across. Ramshackle huts and crude shelters were arrayed in a rough circle around a central area that seemed to serve as a town square of sorts. But unlike the rest, this one had not been deserted—its occupants had remained in place.
We quickly surrounded the small village when it became obvious that it was still occupied, and an elderly orc hobbled out towards us with his empty hands spread wide, showing us that he was unarmed. A group of soldiers rushed out to take him into custody, and he was quickly questioned before being brought to me. The lieutenant in charge of the detail that had captured him related what they’d found out while the orc waited patiently for me to address him.
“He says his people would have fled, but there was nowhere for them to go,” the young officer explained. “Their fighters were conscripted for the war, and now all that’s left are those who were too young, old, or too sick to fight.”
I’d summoned Rhal as soon as the orc had first appeared, and he came to stand by my side as I ventured to where the village elder stood. The old orc was clearly surprised to see Rhal next to me, clad in the armor of my own personal guard, and he voiced his obvious skepticism.
“What price has she paid you to betray your people?” The orc spat at Rhal.
“I have been paid nothing, elder,” Rhal replied emotionlessly. “The Empress took us in when no one else would. It has been my honor to guard her life.”
There was obviously much more to the story of how Rhal and his people had come to me, but the details weren’t necessary at the moment. All the old orc needed to know was that Rhal was with me by his own choice and not through any sort of coercion.
“All people are welcome in my lands. The only thing that I require is that they live peacefully with the rest, elder,” I addressed the incredulous orc.
“We were told that you’d slaughter us on sight,” he replied. “I only hoped to gain a reprieve for our young ones.”
His concerns mirrored those of all the so-called civilized races. In the end, he’d sought only to protect the most precious and vulnerable of his people from harm, a priority the goblins we’d taken prisoner before did not seem to share. They’d only been concerned with their own well-being—that and a near-desperate desire to inflict harm if they could. The clear distinction solidified one of my earlier observations; among the so-called dark races, only the orcs had the possibility of redemption within them. Despite our differences, in their hearts, they shared our deepest desires: the love for their precious children and a willingness to die for them if necessary.
“While it’s true that I’ve shown little mercy to those who’ve fought against me, I have never slain the innocent,” I answered his false accusation. “And I never will. If you seek an end to the senseless bloodshed, then I may have something to offer you. If not, I will still let you go in peace. Just know that once I’m finished conquering these lands, I will eventually come for all those who threaten me.”
“I fear it is too late for me and many others, Empress Uglessek,” not knowing my name, the old orc offered his own honorific. “All I see when I look upon you and your people are the faces of those who have slaughtered so many of us. But our children deserve better than the past we have wrought for them. If you can give that to them, then I will leave them in your care.”
The amount of trust that the old orc had just placed in me was overwhelming, and I felt the weight of it as it descended on my shoulders. He’d offered to turn over their next generation—the entire future of his village—within only moments of meeting me. While I was willing to rise up to the challenge, I wasn’t sure how I could ensure the safety of his people. We were an army traveling in a hostile land and would be fighting against some of their very own kind. Even if I was able to keep the village’s children safe from harm, the trauma of watching us slaughter their kinsmen would likely be devastating.
“There will be a supply caravan coming to us in a few days, Empress,” Stel reminded me. He’d come to observe the discussion with the old orc and had listened closely as it had all played out.
“We could send them back with the wagons,” Stel elaborated. “The guards should be sufficient to keep them safe until they reach the Imperial District, and I’m sure Thola and the others would be happy to look after them once they’re home.”
“Thola?” The old orc startled at hearing the name.
“She’s the one who led us to the Empress’ lands,” Rhal replied.
“One of the orphans we took in told us that was her mother’s name,” the orc replied. “But she thought both her parents were dead.”
Rhal stood still for only a half-second with a stunned look on his face before springing into motion.
“Rhalen!” He called out almost desperately as he rushed towards the jumbled collection of shelters.
Before he’d taken even a few steps, the figure of a young orcish girl emerged from one of the huts and hurried out to meet him, calling out to Rhal in return.
“Daddy!”
Thola hadn’t told me of her lost daughter, nor had Rhal mentioned anything about it either. I wasn’t even aware that there had been anything more to their relationship than the fact that Rhal was her second in command. But despite my utter state of confusion, my heart caught in my throat as I observed their emotional reunion. Rhal bent down to take little Rhalen in his arms, and she wrapped herself around him, clinging to her father desperately. Several of my guards moved to step closer, but I halted them in their tracks, allowing Rhal and his daughter a moment to themselves.
I wasn’t alone in feeling somewhat overcome by the sight of the two embracing each other. While I wiped at my misty eyes, Líann came to stand beside me, taking my hand in hers as she did.
“It would have been nice someday,” she whispered.
“What?”
“Children,” Líann replied, with a hint of regret.
I would have given Líann anything in the world she’d asked for, but that was one wish that I simply couldn’t grant. All I could do was smile back at her weakly when I realized that a part of me shared in her disappointment.
“It’s alright,” she gripped my hand tightly. “We’ll get to watch hundreds, maybe thousands of our people’s sons and daughters grow up.”
Yet from her tone, I knew she understood that it wouldn’t be quite the same—just as I did.
“I wasn’t sure that I’d done the right thing,” the old orc remarked, taking in my obviously emotional state. “But I am now.”
“They will be well-cared-for,” I assured him.
Despite the clear sense of joy and relief on his face, Rhal walked back towards us slowly, clutching his daughter in his arms as she continued to cling to him. Behind him, I could see the faces of several orcs peering out from their shelters, observing the events unfolding before them. A number of small children were more brazen, standing in the open and gawking at the large contingent of heavily armed people surrounding their village elder. When Rhal finally drew close enough, I was able to see his little girl’s face more clearly.
She was like a miniature version of Thola herself; clearly recognizable even through the tear streaks and despite the fact that she tried to hide herself from me. The poor girl appeared to be petrified by seeing so many armed individuals around her, knowing nothing more about us other than we were the sort o
f people who so frequently killed her kind. The situation reminded me of Bek’s arrival at the Garrison so long ago, and I tried to offer some comfort to the frightened child.
“Your daughter is lovely, Rhal,” I tried to soothe Rhalen’s fears. “Just like her mother.”
“Y-you know my mommy?” She turned to me hesitantly.
“I do,” I smiled back at her. “Although I don’t get to see her very often, I consider her a friend.”
Rhalen looked back at her father incredulously, but he nodded at her in return before affirming my words with his own.
“The Empress took us in when we couldn’t find safety anywhere else,” he explained. “And now she’s brought me here… back to you.”
We made camp around the orc village that night, protecting its residents from harm with the bulk of our Army. Although many were ill at ease being surrounded by so many of their former foes, the elder convinced them of our good intentions—a task that had been made much easier after so many of them witnessed Rhalen’s reunion with her father. Although I was happy for him, the events left many unanswered questions in my mind, and I summoned Rhal that evening during our council meeting to offer his explanation.
He told us that their camp had been raided by a rival orc tribe. When they couldn’t find Rhalen afterwards, they thought she’d been killed, but Rhalen had apparently run off in the confusion, escaping danger but getting hopelessly lost in the process. She’d wandered for days until stumbling upon this tiny village, where the elder and his people had offered her shelter.
Although they still cared for each other, after the loss of their daughter, Thola and Rhal found remaining together too painful, and their relationship withered away. By the time they’d come to me, none of it had seemed relevant anymore, and neither had seen the need to recall the painful memories again.
“You haven’t lied to me Rhal, not exactly,” I glared at him as he stood before me when his tale was complete. “But you have withheld a great deal. There is a price to be paid for such disloyalty.”
Rhal looked back at me in shock, clearly not expecting my response—I continued to stare at him intently as all eyes turned towards me.
“You are no longer fit to protect me,” Rhal recoiled at my pronouncement. “When the supply caravan arrives, you will be reassigned to protect it during the journey back to the Imperial District, where you will remain until my return. If you perform your duties well, and Rhalen approves, you will then be allowed to resume your duties with the Imperial Guard.”
The caravan he’d be guarding was the same one that would be taking Rhalen back to her mother. I’d effectively sentenced him to spend the foreseeable future back home with his daughter, and hopefully Thola as well. Their family had been destroyed by the tragedy of Rhalen’s ‘death,’ but now that she’d been found, I felt they deserved the opportunity to be together again.
“Empress, my duty—”
“Lies with your family, Rhal,” I cut him off.
“You’re going to be the only familiar face, not just for Rhalen, but for all the children who make the journey back home,” I reminded him. “It will be frightening enough for them as it is; they’ll need you with them to help make this easier.”
“But I could return after—”
“No,” I interrupted him again. “Rhalen has been without you for long enough. You have someone far more important than me to protect now.”
He seemed ready to protest again but finally relented when he realized the futility of it.
“Thank you, Empress,” Rhal replied.
Although I sensed his reluctance, there was also a clear note of gratitude in his voice when he spoke.
“You’re welcome, Rhal Uglessek,” I smiled back at him.
We spent the next several days guarding the small village while we waited for the supply caravan to arrive. During our entire time in the Dark Lands, we’d never stayed in one place for any length of time, and the long delay provided our weary troops with a much-needed respite.
Khorim’s scouts kept a keen watch around us but discovered no threats while we camped there, and when the caravan finally arrived, Rhalen and nearly twenty other young orc children piled into the empty wagons for the long journey back to the Imperial District.
When the caravan pulled away, the Army made ready to leave, heading for the next target we’d slated for destruction. Few fortifications were left on my map, and it was among the bare handful left remaining; once we’d finished with them, our task would become much more difficult. We’d failed to find many more than what Logan and the other prisoners had marked for us, and even those we’d captured in the Dark Lands had been unable to offer us any additional information. All they’d been able to add were the locations of towns and villages, and I was hesitant to attack any of those. While warriors would be there for certain, too many innocent lives would be lost in the effort for me to consider it worthwhile.
Only three days later, the enemy stronghold had fallen to us just like the rest. Undermanned and overwhelmed by our siege weapons, the defenders never stood a chance. Within a week, the last fortification we knew of had also succumbed to us, and we were left without any real objectives. We had taken a few prisoners after each of our most recent conquests, and although they had nothing firm to offer us, each had spoken of some vague redoubt to the Northwest. The Mistress of Shadows had kept her location secret from even her own people, so they couldn’t say for certain, but each of them thought that was where she was hiding. With little else to go on, we cautiously moved towards the mysterious fortress, sending Khorim’s scouts ahead while Bane investigated from above.
For days, neither Bane nor the scouts found anything worth reporting. Then, late one evening after we’d set up camp, a keening wail echoed in the distance. The loud screech pierced the night air, but as it resounded in the fading light, we were unable to determine just where it had come from.
Bane shot into the darkening sky, seeking out whatever it was that stalked us while Evans’ shouted orders called the soldiers into their defensive formations. Despite the lack of opposition against us, the First Marshal had not become complacent; barriers of sharpened stakes and low earthen walls had been erected around our camp. Heavily armored soldiers quickly took up the front lines, backed by spears with our archers and Evokers close behind. But while we cast about in every direction for the source of the now deafening roar, nothing could be seen.
Suddenly, the earth beneath my feet shook, and I felt the thundering impact of something striking the ground nearby. As I steadied myself, the strange roar sounded again, this time from very close by, and to my dismay, that roar mingled with the sound of Bane unleashing a defiant growl of his own.
I turned towards the cacophony only to discover a scene of total destruction. Most of our camp had been virtually destroyed; tents and wagons were strewn about as if a maelstrom had blown through. In the center of it all stood Bane, one wing oddly bent, clearly broken by whatever had forced his rough landing, but he was not alone. Facing off against my beloved companion, I finally caught sight of the source of the haunting noise. It was another dragon, far larger than Bane, even if it was no longer alive.
The beast that circled opposite Bane was a mere shadow of its former self; a collection of bones, animated by evil. Its broad, skeletal wings spread wide over the wreckage beneath it, and from deep within its hollow skull, a pair of red-tinged lights glowed with malevolent evil as it began stalking towards Bane.
I had no idea what powers the creature still possessed, but there was no way I was going to let Bane face it alone. As I rushed forward, I cast a Fireball at the undead dragon, and before it hit, unleashed an Earthquake beneath its feet, hoping to unsteady the beast. But the ball of flames merely glanced off the dragon’s bones, leaving no trace of damage, and the beast was simply too large for my Earthquake to even faze it. Then, in a flash, Bane lunged forward, grappling with the much larger creature as the two rolled to the ground.
I skidded
to a halt, desperate to help Bane but unsure what I could actually do for him. Not only did my magic appear to be ineffective, but with the two of them so entangled with each other as they wrestled on the ground, anything I tried seemed just as likely to harm Bane as it would the undead horror. The skeletal dragon was much bigger than Bane, and I feared he would kill my beloved companion quickly while I could only stand by helplessly and watch, but what Bane lacked in size, he made up for with his bulk; the flesh and muscle of Bane’s living body gave him a distinct edge, and he soon clawed his way atop his undead adversary.
The undead dragon was far from finished, however, and the razor-sharp edges of his vicious claws tore long gashes into Bane as they raked across his flanks. In turn, Bane ripped at the creature’s long neck, taking it in his maw and thrashing side to side in an effort to rip the foul being’s head off. But whatever magic had animated the tainted monster held firm, and Bane’s attack had little real effect. While the two focused on each other, the undead dragon’s size revealed an advantage—to me.
Bane and the creature were locked in their struggle, and their tails thrashed about wildly behind them, flinging the wreckage of the camp about in their wakes. Bane’s much shorter length left a long section of the undead dragon’s tail exposed, providing me with a target that was completely open without any chance of me striking Bane by mistake—if only I could hit it.
The lengthy section of interlinked bones flicked back and forth erratically as they fought, and I maneuvered to position myself for a shot that gave me the best opportunity to strike it. With the failure of my Fireball to do any damage, I thought an ice arrow would be a better option in case the beast was immune to flames. Drawing back on Retribution’s string, I sighted in, cast Combine Abilities, and imbued the God-forged arrow with one final talent before releasing my shot.
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