by 5kops
This is what God has brought me here to seel Now 1 must get back to Brenly and warn the others.
Areck noticed a hulking figure sitting on its haunches, wrapped in what looked to be chains as thick as a man's wrist. The sight of the creature intensified the divine sickness and he pursed his lips.
Wondering what sort of creature could radiate such power, he decided to get a better look, his vision poor from the current angle. What he could see of the creature was massive. The prisoner seemed literally to be chained to the mountainside. He could see at least a dozen orcs stationed near it, their feet shuffling uneasily. Areck could tell by their posture that the ugly creatures were terrified.
A prisoner of some sort?
The figure was large enough to be an ogre, which were uncommon in the region; a brutal race with intelligence comparable to a man . . . but ogres didn't slouch, as this creature did. He wondered if it might be a giant, though it had been decades since one was last reported in this area.
Although a part of him wished to turn away and slip into the night, Areck's knightly conscience demanded that he lend whatever aid he could to that of his enemy's captive. He decided that he could kill it if it proved a chaotically evil creature. He reprimanded himself for the thought: How high and mighty I have become, to talk of killing like a trivial matter. He decided that even if he was allowed to stay in the knighthood, severe atonement was needed.
Areck sighed as his noble side won out. With deliberate movements, doing his best to stay inconspicuous, he slipped closer to study the encampment. As he approached, the first thing he noticed was that an argument had broken out, sending several orcs into a frenzy. He used the distraction to inch closer to the camp, using the ores' makeshift wood buildings to
conceal himself. Sure that no one had seen him, he held his breath and poked his head around a building to get a better look.
Satisfied that the orcs were still preoccupied, Areck pulled his blade and slunk into the open, seeing a small outcropping of rock that would act as a better shelter. He was about half way when he heard a guttural voice rasping in the distance. As he continued toward shelter, he attempted to understand what was being said—which was nothing. It dawned on him that it would have been wise to pay attention during his classes on languages of the world; another sign of his lack of knightly demeanor. It irked him that he could not understand.
Pushing away from the mountain wall, he peeked around the outcropping. He could see dim shafts of firelight extending between the buildings. He could barely make out the guards sitting around a fire, poking at some poor creature.
Something large moved off to his right, the rattling of chains clinking in the night. He held his breath to see the reaction of those sitting around the fire. Only one orc looked back towards the noise before shrugging and poking the creature again.
Areck scanned the wall for another outcropping he could hide behind. Seeing a large rock that protruded from the mountain, he pressed his back to the wall and sidestepped over to it. As he reached his next target he released his breath. He was in the middle of an orcish camp following another fool's errand. The thought reminded him of how young and foolish he really was.
Another sound of movement made Areck's heart stop in his throat. He pressed himself into the shadows of the rock as chains rattled just beyond his sight. Again, the divine sickness washed over him and his eyesight blurred.
There is still time to turn back, he thought, as pain shot through his mind and nausea swept over him.
Without thinking, as if compelled to move again, he snuck around the corner of a hut and into a semi-circle of open space. There was the prisoner. The beast was covered in chains, and odd shadows blotted out its features. Though he could not get a good look at its face, Areck squinted his eyes, and tried to discern something about the beast. He decided that the thing had to weigh at least six hundred pounds, maybe more.
The pain of his sickness made him stumble.
A guard rounded the corner, unaware of his presence. It made him wonder what he would do if he made it all the way over to the prisoner. The beast was covered in chains, shackled into place, and Areck was no locksmith. Unless he could find the keys, there would be no way to release the prisoner.
Areck allowed the orc to stroll past him. He fell in step behind the ugly creature and did his best to mask the noise of his armor, using the creature's guttural breathing to mask the clinking of metal. With soft confident steps, he strode behind the orc, blade in his right hand like a dagger.
When he was sure that the creature had passed out of its fellows' line of sight, Areck took a deep breath and with a powerful thrust slammed the blade into the ore's neck. With a quiet grunt the creature tried to yell but only gurgled in rasping tones. It staggered to the side and keeled over. Areck guided the dead guard to the ground then pulled it backwards, slamming his blade into its chest several times.
The smell of death wafted up, as did a rotten metallic smell of orcish blood. This was the first time he had ever killed anything that did not fight back—a sin. By law he should have challenged the creature, or at least came from its front. He felt like a coward.
With a grim sigh, Areck decided that he needed to focus on the situation rather than think about his own inadequacies. He almost felt as if he were becoming a monster, lacking those chivalrous emotions that had once made him so knighdy.
Correction, he thought as he pulled the body into to a large shadow and removed its keys, I have never been knightly. I have been sinful, prideful, a cold hearted murderer, and now a cowardly heathen.
Areck to wipe the rotten smell from his hands. Wondering if the smell would ever come off, he gave up and looked toward his goal. Something struck him as odd: what were the chances that an orc would wander away from the camp? He tried to calculate the probability that an orc would patrol an area, carrying keys, alone, at the very moment he required it. Stars-gait was truly shining on him . . . but why?
It was a coincidence, he mused, nothing more.
Areck bolted from his position and perched less than ten yards away from the giant creature. He heard chording and realized that the orcs were making so much noise they could never hear his armor, but it would only be a matter of time until they realized that a comrade was missing.
He spotted another small outcropping of rocks barely large enough to conceal his frame next to the creature and darted toward it.
As Areck approached the creature he saw it stiffen and mumble incoherent words; he was sure it knew he was there. Another wave of divine power radiated out from it. Areck grunted in pain. The divine presence was so strong that the pain was unbearable. This was the most powerful godly magic he had ever experienced. Not even the High Lightb ringer exuded power like this.
Areck clenched his teeth, peered around the rock, and grasped the immense stature of his target. It was larger than anything he had ever read about; even an ogre.
Not a giant? he thought, clenching his teeth as he examined the creature. It still sat hunched in a ball, its head lowered into its massive hands. An orc stood up. Areck's time was running out.
Whatever this prisoner was, it was smart enough not to move. Areck crept from around the rock and another pulse of energy greeted him. Vomit caught in his throat as he approached.
"I do not know if you understand Arsgothian Common, but I am here to rescue you," Areck whispered, feeling the massive body tense. Incoherent rumbling greeted him. It sounded like the creature was . . . crying.
"Go away," a deep baritone whispered and a massive head lifting up out of the darkness and swiveled around to stare at him.
Areck gasped. In the dim light, a pair of florescent red eyes burned within a smooth face, surrounded by a massive head with two small horns. The face, rimmed with fine hair that wrapped under the creature's chin, was tied into two neat braids. Areck was at a loss for words.
"I am here to free you," Areck moved closer, extending the keys to show friendsh
ip.
"I said leave me be, mortal. You cannot save me," the creature replied, laying his head back into its hands. "Anyway, you cannot free me." The creature lifted its hands to show Areck that although coundess chains still adorned the beast, he had destroyed the shackles. There was nothing holding this creature to the mountain.
"Are you a criminal?" Areck asked.
"I am the destroyer of your world," the creature said the low grumble began again.
Areck was now sure the creature was crying.
Whatever the beast was, it suffered from the same human conditions as he did: lack of sleep and nourishment. Areck guessed that it was partially insane from whatever trauma it suffered.
Areck reached out his hand and touched the creature. A bright light flashed and enveloped him. His vision began to blur and he screamed.
The world was burning. He saw an entire race of creatures he did not recognize being hunted down and exterminated by their creators. He knew that he was beholding the last of a magnificent race. A dying race. The pain was terrible. It felt as if God had forsaken him. It was an agony far beyond mortal conception.
He saw dragons breathing fire. They were scouring the world looking, looking for something with no face. He could almost see it.
Then the world was burning. He was burning. The end was upon him.
stomach, releasing its entrails. He gagged and his eyes blurred for a moment. The other orc charged. When it reached Areck and pulled back for a two-handed blow, he grabbed the orc's swing in one hand, using the inertia to overbalance it. With a quick down stroke, Areck slashed at the beast's skull.
Areck looked up in time to see four more orcs charge him and thirty-more come into sight. He readied his short blade in defense. If it was his time to go, he would take as many with him as he could.
"For the glory of God" he screamed at the first creature to attack and leaned to the side before it struck. With a perfect counter attack he dropped into a forward roll and, sweeping his sword as he passed, severed its leg at the knee, using the maneuver to get some distance from the other three.
Taking the offensive, he charged the stunned orcs and yelled another chant. His mind began to wonder what in the hell was guiding him. It told him that he should be dead from several blows to the head . . . that what he was doing was impossible.
He let out a savage scream and speared an orc who had raised its axe over its head. He recognized how foolish the move was as he picked it off the ground and drove it into the mountain. There was a loud thwack. When he backed away, the creature slumped to the ground, its skull crushed on a protruding stone.
Areck turned around, but not fast enough. One of the remaining orcs, this one using a rusty shortsword, made it past his defenses and scored a hit to his side; not enough to pierce an organ, but painful nonetheless. He lashed out and spun away from the blow, moving into another orc, this one already on his downswing with a two hand mace. Areck decided that it was better to be injured than dead and stepped into the blow, taking a shaft to the shoulder rather than a maul to the head.
The great thump sent Areck staggering into the mountain and almost to his knees. He raised his sword arm in defense of another blow.
He realized too late that his party was not enough. Areck of Brenly could see his death coming.
A great shadow blocked out the morning light and was followed by a deafening roar. After several moments, he realized the blow never came.
The several dozen orcs approaching him stood with their mouths agape, looking at the sky. Hesitantly, he followed their gaze. What greeted him was another miracle. Soaring through the sky was a creature the size of the small mountain. Though he had just had a hallucination about such a creature, he had assumed that they did not exist except as legend. Not so. Less than fifty feet above him, wings stretched far into the dawn, was a white dragon. It was the most beautiful, terrifying sight he had ever seen.
He again heard the thunder of its roar. He felt boulders of rock break away from the mountain and topple down. Then there was terrible chaos, as orcs in the area split in all directions and the dragon attacked.
Areck watched in amazement as the dragon dove into the middle of the orcs, gouging mounds of soil, flinging bodies in the air. Just like in his vision, it destroyed with no mercy. It dove again, leaving behind a grisly aftermath of corpses.
The orcs screamed and some even heaved spears at the massive winged legend. Their uncoordinated effort proved futile, as it flexed its wings outward and it inhaled. This time it unleashed a fiery fury upon a giant swath of earth. The smell of burnt flesh wafted through the air and waves of heat extended into the woods, setting the trees ablaze.
Areck, bleeding and battered, lifted himself off the ground and tried to make it to the forest. Though divine sickness washed through him as did a major concussion, he was still clear minded and able to move.
Stumbling out of the way, he just missed a blast of heat that blazed over his shoulder that singed the hair above his right ear and left him gasping for clean air. Smoke surrounded him making his eyes water and his vision waver. He knew he couldn't last long here.
He turned to where the prisoner had lain. It did not surprise him that there was nothing there. He had been sure that the beast would be smoldering, burnt from their contact. He staggered over to the area shielding his eyes from the smoke. It must have crawled off.
Areck searched franticly for the beast, stepping over the scorched ground where smoldering corpses lay. He could not find it and moved off into the forest where he guessed it had crawled away.
It proved to be a poor decision. A fleeing orc crossed his path, this one wielding a great sword. He was forced once again into batde. Areck raised his arm but realized that he no longer held his sword. He prepared to fight. Seeing that its opponent was injured and unarmed, the orc charged Areck, its sword held in an offensive posture.
Areck tried to steady himself and waited for the orc to arrive so he could time its attack with precision. They were just about to collide when another blast of fire exploded to their left. The explosion sent the orc flying direcdy at him, its sword tipped like a lance. Areck swept his arm in an arc instinctively to deflect the blow.
He felt more than heard the resounding thump as his hand connected with the flat of the creature's blade. It was followed by a terrible stinging pain in his thigh.
Areck tried to lift his head. He did not know how he was still alive. He was pinned to the ground. The blade had not only penetrated his armor, but the weight of the orc had driven the hilt deep through his leg. He struggled to stay awake. Deep in his mind, his subconscious whispered that he 292 HUCFOGLE
needed to quit. It was his time to die. He had seen in the last thirty minutes all the wonders that life could offer. Yet his will would not let eternal sleep take him.
He was about to close his eyes when he felt a sudden impact, as if several tons had been dropped to the ground. He heard orcs screaming in pain as the ground trembled with massive blows. He grew faint. He saw trees parting like water before the dragon. It was looking for him.
Only then did the darkness take him.
The last thought thing he saw was the creature's face through blurred eyes. It was a face of magnificence. It was the face of God.
Areck of Brenly passed out.
24
SILVERWING AND Thurm stared at each other, each unsure of what to do. They stood over the body of a young human male with a gaping wound in his leg, several deep gashes to his body and a face like meat from a grinder. Both were surprised the young man still lived.
The olthari broke the silence, kneeling down to examine the boy's wounds. "This is a remarkable mortal," he announced, still feeling the buzz from the human's touch, a sign of volatile magic. It was so volatile that it had fed off Thurm's own divine spirit and caused great pain and discomfort for the both of them.
"Indeed he is." The dragon eyed him with skepticism, not believing for one moment that a serva
nt of Heaven would find a mortal the least bit interesting. She had been tracking this particular human since she had witnessed a miraculous event in Three Sentinel Pass. But that was not what bothered her. What, she wondered, in the name of llluviel was an Olthari, one of the cursed race, doing here?
"Can you help him?" Silverwing asked, trying to hide her interest. One could never tell what the traitorous race was up to.
"His wounds are extensive. I cannot understand how he still lives," Thurm answered.
Looking up at the dragon, he felt that the beast was nearly as powerful as he was. That fact should have infuriated him, but he just shrugged. "I think I can staunch the bleeding," Thurm finally said. "As you might guess, my powers have diminished over the last several eternities."
He no longer cared, not anymore. In fact, he had been trying to die when the mortal interfered. But the orcs, who had at first thought him a demon and an ally, had then feared him to much too actually slay him. He had been contemplating his life when this human tried to rescue him.
By Illenthuul's edict, this world would be obliterated unless he could find the unknown source that drove the evil god onward. He estimated that the world had around sixteen full moons, or eight months, left of existence. Guilt washed over him. This would be the twenty-first world to be destroyed in the Dark God's name, and Thurm had been at the center of them all.
"Are you going to cast the spell or shall I?" Silverwing asked impatiendy, regarding the olthari with a scowl.
"One would figure that as long as you have been around, your race would have learned patience," snorted Thurm, disliking the dragon's insolent tone. He sensed that she was hiding something. "Do you care about this human?"
"You are dealing with a human, is all," said Silverwing. "They are a fragile race. If you do not cease the flow of blood, he will die. And to be honest, even your diminished powers are greater than mine."