Deepforge

by R. J. Washburn

  Grognor knew it was time. “Missiles!”

  All at once, arrows and spears flew through the air toward the horde. The army watched in anticipation as the missiles flew, arching across the battlefield, and then falling to hit their marks. The Drakmids didn’t seem to notice them.

  “Powder weapons, fire at will!” Grognor yelled.

  From the very front of the army, several loud explosions were heard, followed by the distinct sound of cannon balls flying through the air. The round balls flew just above the battlefield, their fuses burning quickly. They flew and impacted into the horde army, causing massive explosions. They blew apart any Drakmid nearby.

  “Muskets! Fire!” Grognor yelled.

  Everyone who had one, fired their muskets as another volley of cannon fire screamed across the battlefield. Drakmids fell, but not nearly enough to make a difference.

  “Weapons! Hand to hand! Charge!” Grognor yelled.

  All the army screamed and ran forward, Grognor in the lead. Before another volley of missiles could be launched, the two armies clashed. The terrible, evil horde plowed through the combined army, cutting through them with almost no resistance. The Drakmids’ weapons easily sliced through the Deepforge’s armor. The sounds of metal clashing, warriors screaming in anger, rage and pain filled the valley mixed with the sounds of the horde roaring like demons.

  Grognor rushed forward with his double bladed battle axe in one hand and his war hammer in the other. His profound fear of the creatures was drowned out by his rage as he ran toward the towering horde. At the first one, he slashed and swung with his weapons. His massive axe crashed down upon the creature’s armor, causing a bright shower of sparks. It hardly made a mark. As his swing completed, he looked up to see the creature plunge his massive sword his direction. Grognor jumped out of the way, a task that in itself was difficult. Warriors battled side by side, their bodies pressed together in the impossibly close quarters. The density of the battle was deadly in itself. One could barely get enough room to swing a weapon or raise a shield.

  The creature’s sword swung down and glanced Grognor’s arm. The force of the impact bruised his arm, and the sharpness of the blade sliced a way a portion of his heavy armor. Grognor retaliated with a swing of his hammer, slamming it down on the creature’s arm. The loud clang of the impact would have been deafening if it hadn’t been for the already impossibly loud sounds of battle in progress.

  The creature roared in pain and slammed Grognor with his shield, nearly knocking the Emperor down. Grognor looked at his axe and realized it was useless. The blade was destroyed from the superior armor of the Drakmids. He dropped the axe and grasped his hammer with both hands. The creature didn’t give Grognor a chance to react; it slammed him with its shield again, roaring loudly through a dragon shaped snout. There was no longer fear in Grognor, just the fury of battle. Something quickly ran through his mind: The creature had experienced pain from his hammer attack. As the creature swung sideways with his sword, Grognor blocked it with his hammer and spun around, bringing it down upon the creature’s arm again, but this time with both hands. He hit the creature’s arm with such force; it lifted Grognor off the ground. He screamed with zeal as he did so. The hammer slammed down on the arm, bending the creature’s armor and crashing louder than any other attack. The arm broke.

  The creature roared with pain and stumbled back. It grasped the broken arm, dropping both the sword and shield. Grognor exploited the opportunity and leapt up to the creature’s dragon head. He swung the hammer down upon the creature’s head with all his might, knocking the creature down. Grognor then fell onto another creature as it bisected one of the human warriors. The creature roared and swung its sword toward Grognor, but he ducked. The sword continued swinging until it hit another one of the creatures. The sword and armor sparked as it actually penetrated the armor, killing the creature. Grognor immediately realized: They were made of the same metal. He dropped down and grabbed the discarded sword and raised it up just as the creature swung around, furious to get vengeance for the quickly moving dwarf.

  Grognor blocked the sword attack with his newly acquired sword, and then swung at the creature with his hammer, slamming it against the creature’s chest. The creature roared in anger and fell back into the line of human warriors somehow holding their own. Grognor jumped onto the creature and shoved the sword down into its chest, through the armor and into its heart. It roared and died.

  He jumped off and leapt back into the fray, slashing with his new sword and slamming his hammer against them. As the creatures pushed the Deepforge army backward, Grognor pushed forward, further into them. He stumbled over the body of the first one he had hit with his hammer, and saw something surprising. The creature’s helmet had come off with the attack revealing…a human head. The dragon shape was simply the helmet design. He saw where the creature had sweated in the heat of battle, washing off its green scales. It was paint!

  Grognor grabbed the helmet and threw it at the Deepforge army, screaming, “It’s a ruse! They’re human!” Several creatures attacked him, slashing their terrible weapons. Grognor was now more furious as ever, enraging them as they came.

  One ‘Drakmid’ jumped and brought his battle axe down toward Grognor, who simply jumped out of the way, swinging down his sword upon the attacker’s arm. It came off clean. Grognor then fell down and grabbed the axe, rising up to meet the screaming attacker with his own axe, slicing his head off. He reached down and grabbed the Drakmid’s shield and used it as another one attacked from behind. The attacker lunged at Grognor, connecting with the stolen shield. Grognor then let go a war cry and brought his axe down upon the attacker’s arm, severing it. Then, he grabbed the body of the screaming Drakmid and tossed it at the next attacker, knocking them both down. Grognor then pounced on them and tore them to pieces.

  He sheathed the sword in his belt loop and looked around. From his vantage point he could see the army losing the battle badly. Even though it was realized these Drakmids were only well armored humans, there were just too many of them. As he realized this, he heard a scream and felt a sword go deep into his side. One of the Drakmids had scored a solid hit on the Emperor. In rage, Grognor spun around and slammed his hammer upon the attacker’s arm, smashing it. With his other arm now wielding a stolen axe, he swung down and severed the Drakmid’s arm. Then he quickly swung upwards with his hammer, smashing the Drakmid’s helmet clean off, his head with it.

  Grognor dropped his hammer and grabbed a hold of the sword still embedded in his side, part of an arm with it. He screamed and yanked it out just as another Drakmid attacked with a pole arm. The blood flowed as Grognor suffered another hit, but instead of screaming, he grabbed the weapon and twisted. The Drakmid leapt upon Grognor and slammed his hammer upon the Emperor’s head. Grognor’s bell was rung, but he was undaunted. He reached up and grasped the Drakmid’s neck and began squeezing and twisting. The Drakmid roared and attempted to head-butt Grognor, but the dwarf was surprisingly more agile than he expected. He rolled out of the way and grabbed the discarded sword and partial arm. As the Drakmid stumbled out the way, Grognor swung at him, missing. The Drakmid grabbed another sword and stood face to face with Grognor.

  The Emperor bled, but stood fast. The two warriors faced off, looking for any weakness to exploit. Grognor’s pain only fueled his rage. He pried the partial arm off and stood his ground. The two of them glanced around, realizing that the majority of the battle had now passed them by, pushing the Deepforge army back toward the River. There was now much more space to maneuver.

  “Come on, dwarf!” the Drakmid screamed.

  “You speak the common language, so you’re not as stupid as you seem!”

  The Drakmid lunged forward, but Grognor just stepped aside. “If it were not for your advanced weapons and armor, we would have already defeated you.”

  “Really? You’re way too confident, dwarf!”

  “Put it to the test, if you’re tough enough!”

  The Dra
kmid laughed and tore off his armor.

  Grognor did the same, and then he dropped his weapons. “Let’s see what you’ve really got, interloper!”

  The Drakmid dropped his weapons as well, and leapt toward the Emperor. Grognor stood his ground and met the human with a hard fist to the nose. The Drakmid fell to the ground, but quickly recovered, grabbing Grognor’s leg and causing him to fall. Grognor hit the ground hard, his blood staining the soil. As he struggled to recover, the human fell at the dwarf’s chest with his elbow pointed down. Grognor rolled out of the way just in time. They both recovered and stood facing each other again.

  “Why do you attack us, what is it you want so desperately?” Grognor asked as he looked for a weakness.

  “Because, it is our destiny!” The Drakmid said, and body slammed Grognor.

  Both of them went down with the Drakmid on top, trying to twist Grognor’s head off. Grognor gasped for breath as he tried to pry the Drakmid’s arms away. He wrapped his legs around one of the Drakmid’s legs and twisted, causing him to lose his grip. Then, he punched up at the Drakmid, knocking him off. As the Drakmid tried to recover, Grognor leapt up and rapid punched him in the forehead, splitting open his flesh. The Drakmid stumbled back, hardly able to see from the fresh blood pouring down. Grognor then ran and jumped, feet first. His feet met with the Drakmid’s head and followed it down, snapping the Drakmid’s neck. Grognor fell to a sitting position all alone, the battle now fully passed by. He grabbed several of the superior weapons and armor, suited up, and ran as fast as he could toward the battle. A thick trail of blood flowed behind him.

  As Grognor bathed in the blood and fury, the others did their best to hold their own. The Drakmids rolled over and through the army, killing without prejudice. Hundreds fell as the Drakmids slashed through them easily. The army’s well made armor was no match for the Drakmid’s superior weaponry. Blood and body parts flew as they nearly ran through the army. Only a scant few of the Drakmids fell. The Drakmids were not only much greater in numbers, but also took up much more real estate. They hit the army and wrapped around it, enveloping and going past. The army was trapped. They retreated as quickly as they could back toward the great bridge at the river.

  Brendon lost sight of Grognor the instant the Drakmids hit them. He did his best to fend them off, slashing with his sword and using brute force to push them away. A Drakmid zeroed in on him and jumped at him with his superior sword. Brendon raised his sword to defend himself, but the Drakmid’s sword sliced right through it with no problem, continuing on and into Brendon’s side. Brendon yelled in pain, but grabbed onto the sword now buried in his side. The Drakmid roared and slammed his shield on Brendon’s head, knocking him down and yanking the sword out. As Brendon tried to move out of the way from the descending sword, one of their helmets crashed near him. In the distance he heard Grognor’s voice, just above the deafening sound of battle.

  “It’s a ruse! They’re human!” he heard the Emperor say.

  “Human,” Brendon said out loud. He rolled just out of the way and looked up at the others in the army. They had heard it too. Suddenly, their supernatural fear was gone. This wasn’t a battle against unnatural beasts; it was against humans with superior armor and weapons.

  “This changes everything!” Brendon said, and stood up to face the ‘Drakmid’ trying to kill him. “Let’s see what you got!”

  The Drakmid lunged at Brendon, but Brendon was too fast for him. He spun around and grabbed the attacker’s sword, easily wrenching it out of his hand. He continued to spin and shoved the sword into the superior armor of the Drakmid. A shower of sparks erupted from the Drakmid’s breastplate as the sword embedded itself deep in his chest. Brendon reached up and tore the red-skinned attacker’s helmet off, revealing a normal human head grimaced in severe pain. He then kicked him, causing him to fall down. Brendon then grabbed the attacker’s sword and shield. The army in the immediate vicinity saw it all happen and pushed back, attacking with no fear and all fury.

  As soon as the dwarven portion of the army heard Grognor’s revelation, they increased their fighting fury exponentially.

  “Human sport!” one dwarf cried as they quickly discovered that if they got into close quarters and used blunt weapons, they could do real damage. Once, when one of the dwarves knocked the helmet off of a Drakmid, it suddenly died from an arrow shot. The dwarf looked away to the possible source, and saw the elven elders nearby. They had returned and were using their superior skill with arrows.

  “Knock their helmets off!” the dwarf yelled.

  Bōddy and the elves returned to see a horrible sight. The Drakmids were killing the army with wholesale slaughter. Even with the few victories of the best warriors, the advantage was clearly the Drakmids’.

  “Fire arrows!” Bōddy ordered. Their almost perfect marksmanship was quickly defeated by the Drakmid’s superior armor. The arrows simply shattered upon impact, nearly unnoticed.

  “Come on, find a weakness! We’re going to lose this thing!” Bōddy yelled in frustration.

  At that point, one of the dwarves knocked off one of the Drakmid’s helmets. Reacting without thinking, Bōddy let his arrow fly. It easily hit the Drakmid’s head, killing him. Bōddy then saw what they really were.

  “They’re humans! Keep looking for a bare head, and fire!” Bōddy yelled.

  They stood perched on the bridge, a higher platform than the flat plane where the battle raged. To the elves’ horror the army was losing badly, and the Drakmids were running unmolested toward them.

  “Bōddy! We need to get out of here!” Daemon yelled.

  “We have to hold the line! Pull swords!” Bōddy yelled.

  “Are you crazy? We can’t hold them off! We need to get back to the villagers and get them to safety! Bōddy!” Bloom said in frustration.

  “Bōddy, he’s right! Come on, we need to go!” Kaelen said, pulling on Bōddy’s arm.

  Bōddy knew they were right. They were only one hundred, and the Drakmids were having no problem rolling over and through the three thousand warrior army. “Damn it!” he said, and turned to run with the rest of them. As they ran toward the other side, they saw another army of strangers approaching, about two hundred of them.

  “Ah, hell!” Celine said, pulling her sword.

  “We’re surrounded. There’s no way out of this,” Dryadus said.

  “Stand your ground. This may be the end of line,” Montael said.

  “Ready bows! Take out as many as you can before they get here!” Bōddy ordered.

  Then as the new army came near, they got a good look at them…

  “Bōddy…what…what the hell are they?” Encladean asked.

  Grognor ran as fast as he could, now armored up as the Drakmids, with Drakmid weapons. He looked around for his hammer as he ran, but didn’t spend much time on the effort. He had a good bastard sword and a battle axe, good enough. As he reached the first of the Drakmids in the rear of their army, he jumped up and attacked. He brought his axe down on the Drakmid, easily slicing his head off. He could see the battle in front of him, and it was going badly. As the plain sloped down into the river valley, he saw something else. The elves were on the great bridge, but on the other side of the river he spotted another army of aliens.

  “We’re not going to lose this, dammit! We can’t!” he yelled and attacked another Drakmid.

  Bōddy and the elves let loose arrows as the new beasts came near, until they ran around and nearly over them. Nearly trampled, the elves never moved from their places. The new army simply ran past them, ignoring their existence.

  “What in Freya’s name were they?” Peiele asked. “I know I scored hits on them, yet they were not harmed!

  “They don’t wear armor, yet remain unharmed. They were not interested in us, either. I…don’t understand… come on!” Bōddy said as he ran back toward the battle. “Swords ready!”

  The other elves did as ordered.

  Grognor saw this happen, and was confused until h
e saw what happened next. The new army collided with the Drakmids and stopped them in their tracks. They quickly began tearing apart the Drakmids, most literally. They had no weapons, and no armor. This realization spread across the battlefield like a wave as all the Drakmids instantly stopped fight with the Deepforge army and concentrated on the new arrivals.

  Grognor took advantage of this and attacked the nearest Drakmid, but the warrior seemed unconcerned. He died at Grognor’s hand, never having much of a chance. Grognor began to feel woozy- he had lost way too much blood.

  As the battle between the new army and the Drakmids escalated, the Deepforge army was spared and was able to simply get out of the way. Then, almost as if from some signal, all the Drakmids turned and retreated, right at Grognor.

  Grognor was very surprised at this, but prepared for epic battle. All he got was a good trampling as the Drakmids retreated over and around him, deep into the Savanna. The battle was over.

  Grognor stumbled to his feet, the world swirling around him. He steadied himself with the sword and walked across the battlefield toward where the new army stood on the other side, apparently waiting.

  “I don’t care who you are, I’ll take you down too!” Grognor said. He stumbled across the battlefield and held back his tears of grief. There were bodies scattered everywhere, mostly human and dwarven. Friends, relatives, fellow warriors lay dead and dismembered. The soil flowed red with blood. Screams of warriors still alive but badly wounded, or dying and screaming to their gods filled the air now, along with the stench of fresh death, feces and urine. Grognor kept up the pace, moving closer and closer to the new interlopers.

  The elves quickly closed the distance and stood behind the new arrivals, ready to fight.

  The Deepforge army stood in front of them, ready to fight.

  Grognor finally made it through and got a good look at this new army. They were much taller than the dwarves, even taller than the humans and elves, and had grey skin. Their massive muscular bodies towered above the exhausted army. The army stood in front of the strangers, confused but prepared. They readied for battle, despite the victory. Grognor held his axe firm, covered with blood. He was resolute as he gripped even tighter, despite is critical blood loss. He knew not who these strangers were, but it mattered not. He was ready for battle.