by Joseph Lallo
“They are at war. The problem is the war doesn't come to Kortran. I've heard of outposts getting attacked on all sides. But taking it to the heart of their capital? The dragons aren't threatened enough and the giants aren't ready for that sort of strike.
“Hewat is south of here through fifty miles of mountain passes. Most of the titan forces are guarding those rather than worrying about attacks from the elves to the north.” The ranger wore a pitying expression. “I doubt Amti has made an offensive move against the titans in years. Their city is only standing for one reason: the titans haven't found it yet.”
“How do you miss an entire city of elves?” Cyrus boggled.
Orion shrugged. “The location's secret. You have to have an elven escort lead you there blindfolded. Back to your original question: the elves have done the only thing they can do without attacking directly. They've placed a bounty on the heads of the titans.” His eyes lit up. “The elves really don't have an army, but they have money.
“Money buys armor, weapons, things with mystical power that can bear and deal damage better.” He held up his hand to halt the army as they crested a rise. “We’re here for those bounties. We need better equipment. Mystical equipment increases the power of our spell casters magic in addition to giving more resistance to hostile spells to our fighters.”
It had gotten so dark that Cyrus could no longer see more than a few paces in front of him. Faint lights in the distance indicated there was a city not far away. He had been following Orion, not worried about where he was going.
He felt a hand gently grasp his arm and looked over to see J'anda, who smiled as he placed something cold in the warrior's palm.
Cyrus tried to bring the object closer so he could see it, but J'anda closed Cyrus's palm firmly. A glow of blue exploded in his hand soundlessly and the sparkles of light shot up his arm to his neck. A flash of light lit the warrior's eyes. Blinking it away he could see; the darkness had faded. “It's an orb of lucense,” J'anda whispered. “Magical spell that conveys night vision. Thought you might like to see where you’re going,” he said with amusement.
“Another of your mysterious powers?”
The enchanter shrugged with a whimsical smile. “There are so many.”
Cyrus looked back down the path and his breath caught in his throat. The city of Kortran was stretched out before him. The path diverged into an ovoid ring road that looped around both sides of the valley and rejoined at the far southern end opposite them. A path led down from the split into the city proper like a ramp into the bowl of the valley.
The buildings were intricately carved. In fact, much of the city was carved out of the rock itself on the ground level as well as along one side of the outer ring road. The other side – what Cyrus believed was the eastern facing – had only two enormous arches that led into the mountainside, each seemingly going in different directions. Both of them had very intricate facades, carved with ornate statuary and more sophisticated in their appearance than the city's other buildings.
In the center of the valley, larger stone buildings dotted the cityscape sprinkled between the more common stone and mortar dwellings, most of which carried intricate woodwork.
Niamh breathed from somewhere to his left, “I never get tired of seeing this.” Looking around, Cyrus realized that she had not faded into the shadows – her voice seemed to be coming out of thin air.
“I’ll never get used to that,” he muttered as he shook his head.
Niamh appeared next to him, caught his attention and smiled. “What, magic?”
He shook his head. “Yeah. It's not like we saw a lot of it in the Society of Arms, where I was raised.” Cyrus turned to her. “You're a druid?”
“That's right.”
“I've only known one druid. This is going to sound a little stupid,” Cyrus began. He looked around to see if anyone was looking at him. “What exactly does a druid do? I know you have power over nature...”
“Yes, we deeply appreciate nature. The spells I cast,” she licked her lips, “tend to center on control of nature and the elements. I can cast fire or ice spells – not as powerfully as a wizard, but well enough – command water, plant life, even animals to some extent. I can summon a mystical wind that can teleport us from place to place... and a few other things.”
Cyrus's eyebrow shot up. “I've seen some of that. Useful magic, that's for sure.”
Niamh nodded. “The good news is you don't have to worry about spell casters facing you in Kortran. Titans don’t have healers, or wizards or druids. They favor martial strength to the exclusion of intellectual pursuits like magic. Just like all followers of the God of War.” Scorn dripped from her words.
Cyrus flushed. “Bellarum, the Lord of War? What's wrong with worshiping him?”
“Not you too?” She shivered as though something dirty had crawled on her. “I don’t exactly shy away from battle, but I’ll never understand those who worship warfare and consider it some sort of 'spiritual experience'.”
Cy raised an eyebrow. “Most don't. It's okay – I don't understand your magic.”
“Maybe I'll explain more about it sometime.”
Cyrus nodded and then realized they had been halted for nearing five minutes. He looked around for Orion, and found him whispering with Vara and Curatio. After a pause Orion signaled the army to move down the path into the city. They moved slowly, but Cyrus could see no activity in the city itself. He looked down at his feet as the texture of the path changed when they crossed onto the ring road – it was made entirely of a rich, dark wood.
Orion beckoned them down the ramp. J'anda's titan still walked with them, casting shadows in the light of Kortran's lamps. The enchanter paused with his titan, holding position in the middle of the road. “Shall I guard here?” he whispered to Orion.
“Not a bad idea in case we have to retreat,” the ranger said, turning forward again to lead the army into the heart of the city.
They left the ring road behind them as they descended, the large buildings surrounding them. Once they reached the bottom of the ramp, they crept into the darkness of a nearby alley, sticking close to the wall for cover. They followed back alleys for a few blocks to one of the larger buildings on the outskirts.
“Armory, maybe?” Narstron wondered, having reappeared at Cyrus’s side, startling the human.
“Whatever it is, I guess this is where Amti’s most wanted villains hide out.” Cyrus took in the scale of the building with some surprise. They were truly enormous up close.
It took three people to open the door. Cyrus peered into the darkness within, and felt a not-so-gentle shove. He looked over his shoulder to see Vara smiling at him mirthlessly. “After you,” she said with a bow and hand outstretched toward the door.
Without another word, Cyrus ran into the building.
Chapter 8
Cy took a sharp breath as he realized there was a titan in the room. It was sleeping on an oversized wooden chair in the corner. Letting out a sigh of relief, Cyrus watched it as they crept past.
They filed into the next room. Cy caught a flicker of motion behind a chair leg, and bolted forward. He ate up the distance to the chair quickly, cutting around the edge as something burst out and slammed into his chestplate, knocking him back a step.
Whatever had hit him dropped and rolled back, coming to rest a few paces away. When Cyrus's gaze locked onto it, he saw it was a swarthy elf, moaning in pain and rubbing his shoulder. Orion, Vara and Narstron had been only paces behind him, and now surrounded the elf, weapons drawn.
Holding his hands up, the elf twitched before speaking, which he did in a low, hissing voice. “Friends, I can’t thank you enough for coming for me!” Something about the elf seemed oily to Cyrus. “My name is Erart, and I have been a prisoner here for far too long.”
Orion looked at him with undisguised skepticism. “I doubt that. Any elf in Kortran would either be dead or a traitor.”
A sign
of panic entered the elf’s eyes. “No! No, I swear I am a prisoner, trapped here in the city! I was scared to leave!”
“You’re a liar.” Cyrus looked him in the eyes. He could see it, the subtle evasion as the elf avoided his stare, then relaxed before tensing every muscle in his body.
“HELP!”
The elf’s call caught them off guard. The next sound they heard was the tearing of cloth. Cyrus turned to see a tapestry pulled to the side, and three titans stepped out of the passage behind it. He looked back to see the door they had come through open to admit the sleeping titan plus another. Terian swept toward the titans behind them, sword already in motion.
Orion unstrapped his bow in a split second, arrow nocked and flying a moment later. Cy had turned and charged to close the distance between himself and the titans before him. He could hear Vara and Narstron behind him as Sanctuary's army engaged the titans to the rear. Orion’s first shot was perfect: he caught the leading titan in the eye, causing him to let out an agonized yell.
As he dodged past the first foe, Cyrus raked his sword across the achilles tendon, causing it to topple and knock his closest following comrade backward. Dodging the two falling titans, Cyrus leapt upon them and quickly slit the second titan’s throat before he could free a hand to stop the warrior.
The third titan emitted a roar at the death of his comrade. Glancing back, Cy saw Narstron give the half-blind titan the same treatment Cyrus had given the first. It looked like a geyser of red when he ripped out its throat. Vara looked annoyed but followed Cyrus to the third titan.
The titan took a swipe at him designed almost as much to keep him back as to do him any harm. He feinted at the titan’s right leg, then pulled away. It fixated on him, ignoring Vara. She gracefully sidestepped and slammed her sword down on her enemy's foot. He let out a howl of pained outrage, but before he could take a swipe at her, three things happened very quickly.
First, an arrow sailed into the titan's upper lip, causing him to emit another startled yelp. Orion followed his arrow with a second that caught the titan squarely in the shoulder and caused him to drop his sword.
Second, Narstron jumped onto the last survivor's leg, and drove both his blades into the side of its knee, slipping them under the kneecap and causing the leg to buckle and to drop the titan to the ground. Vara added a powerful sword-swipe to the afflicted area.
Finally, Cyrus charged into the opening created by their attack and jumped up to bury his sword into the side of the titan’s neck. With a wretched sound the titan fell to his hands and knees, then lay down and died. Cyrus looked around. The four of us just took out three titans with no healer! Not bad.
“My goodness, that took forever thanks to the two of you,” Vara grumbled. Cyrus rolled his eyes while Narstron clenched his teeth.
“I thought it went rather smoothly.” Orion favored the two warriors with a smile. Vara exhaled impatiently as she turned back to the Sanctuary army.
Cyrus turned to find the Sanctuary army running out the door in a mass, one titan dead on the ground, the other missing. He took off at a run, Orion a few steps ahead of him. The elf, Erart, was nowhere to be seen, Cyrus noticed as he flew through the door. Where is the other titan?
He and Orion pushed their way through the army, accidentally stepping on a gnome. He saw Niamh wielding twin bursts of fire from each hand, blasting the retreating titan’s leg, bringing it down. Terian was striking it with his sword. Vara jumped from behind Cyrus to land on the it's back, delivering an impaling strike with her sword as the wounded titan let loose a cry.
Vara cut it short by stabbing into the titan’s lungs, but it was too late. The silence created by the titan’s death was filled with the sound of doors opening, bells ringing and shouts filling the air.
“RAIDERS AT MAJANI MANOR HOUSE!”
Other voices took up the call as titans poured into the streets of Kortran. Above the shouting, a fell voice cut through all others. “DESTROY THE INTRUDERS! TALIKARTIN, CLAIM THEIR SKULLS!”
Two titans stood above the rest. “That’s Emperor Razeel and Talikartin the Guardian. We cannot defeat either of them,” Orion breathed. “RETREAT!”
“I hate retreating!” Cyrus shouted – but didn’t argue.
The rangers’ bows hummed with arrows as they fell back, dashing past the titans that were swarming from every house into the narrow alleys and avenues. Cyrus stayed with the rear guard, but no titans had caught up to them yet - the arrows were proving a discouragement. Nyad let loose a spell that rained fire upon any who crossed beneath it. While it didn’t stop the titans, it certainly slowed them, as they stopped to put out the flames upon emerging from it.
Cyrus charged up the ramp, one of the last to go, the closest titan only fifty feet behind him. Narstron was moving fast enough that Cyrus was having trouble keeping up. The titans had a stride five times that of a human and near ten times that of a gnome. There is no way we can all make it, Cyrus thought as he watched the fastest of their pursuers close the distance.
Cyrus passed Niamh, who had stopped to cast a spell. Cutting his momentum for a beat to aid her if needed, she completed her incantation and blazed past him. He watched as roots burst from the ground, breaking through the wooden road in front of them, wrapping around their enemies' feet and then ankles, dragging them down. As the roots reached their legs and pulled them to their knees, more burst forth and wrapped around arms of the titans, yanking them to the earth in a firm embrace.
Faces askew with anger, the trapped titans screamed in outrage, vines and roots clawing at them, grasping for purchase. Behind them, those that were free of the roots were attempting to climb over their trapped brethren.
Cyrus's attention turned in the direction they had been retreating: a lone giant stepped over him and rushed into the ranks of his ensnared comrades, killing a few of the surprised titans before they reacted and brought down their traitor. Cyrus looked back to see J'anda salute his enslaved titan as it was killed by three of its own.
Orion’s voice rang over them, just behind him now. “Spell casters, fall back to the entrance – warriors, paladins, hold the line as the rear guard!” Orion caught an irritable look from Terian Lepos before adding, “Yes, you too.”
A few of the more enterprising titans used their trapped fellows as stepping stones. One front runner was ahead of the rest. Fresh meat, Cy thought.
The warrior feinted to his left as if to slip past the titan but instead dodged to the right at the last second and plunged both swords into the titan's foot. Shocked and in pain, he screamed and plunged face first into the ground.
Cyrus scrambled up his fallen adversary to the back of its neck. He drove his sword blade into the base of the titan's skull. He looked up to see Narstron, already covered in the blood of the next titan. They locked eyes for a moment and he could hear Narstron utter the warrior’s cry of exultation: “Ye gods, the battle!” Cyrus shot him a smile. This is what warriors live for, he thought with great satisfaction.
“Uh, boys?” Niamh’s voice rang out. “Care to join us in the retreat?” She gestured at the Sanctuary army, almost back to the ring road. Vines sprung up from Niamh’s spell, covering their escape as the three of them retreated up the ramp. A roar behind them startled Cyrus. He looked back to see the one called Talikartin the Guardian, his helm a shining silver to match his armor. Black sleeves flowed from beneath his chest plate and rough skin, scarred all over, covered the titan.
Beyond Talikartin, Cyrus caught sight of Emperor Razeel. He had a crown of gold shaped like the skull of a dragon and a green dragonskin cloak wrapped around him, buttoned at the collar. When he spoke, a terrible, cruel voice echoed through the caverns. “Intruders! I am Emperor Razeel of Kortran, the City of Titans.”
“Thank the gods he spelled that out for me,” Narstron quipped from behind Cyrus. “I was certain I'd stumbled into a troll brothel purely by mistake.”
“You would know from experience what those are
like,” Vara's voice came from behind them.
“You may win this day – as you did yesterday,” Razeel continued, “and some of you may escape like the cowards you are – but your transgressions will neither be forgotten nor forgiven by the citizens of Kortran.” The Emperor clenched his fist. “Talikartin the Guardian, make them pay with blood for the citizens they’ve killed and the priceless treasure they have stolen from us.”
Talikartin was a titan among titans. Massive, his muscled frame bespoke of a power both physical and mystical. He broke free of the vines that clawed at his feet with ease. With a swing of his arms the titan swept his own people from his path, scrambling to get to the rear guard.
Niamh whispered behind him, “We are not going to get away on foot – not from him.”
Cyrus looked back at her, a question on his lips. “Can you cast a teleport spell like you did in Ashan'agar's den? Get some people out of here?”
She shook her head. “Too many people; they're too scattered and far from me – one of the wizards needs to –” She stopped. “Nyad! We need an area teleportation spell!”
The blond elf looked stunned for a moment. She stopped and concentrated, whispering to herself. A bluish burst of fire engulfed her from toe to head – shocking Cyrus, who wondered for a moment if she’d accidentally scorched herself by mistake. He turned back to brace himself for Talikartin’s assault. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Narstron doing the same. A burst of blue fire shot past Cyrus's eyes and hovered in front of him, a little ball of cerulean flame. Looking back, Cyrus saw the Sanctuary army, one by one, disappearing into the bursts of blue fire.
“Grab the orb!” Niamh shrieked. Talikartin was only thirty paces away now. The Sanctuary army was gone. Narstron grabbed the orb hovering in front of him and disappeared into blue flames. A whirlwind engulfed Niamh and she too was gone.
Alone, in the city of Kortran, Cyrus looked for a moment across the mass of titans, ensnared, and caught sight of the Emperor Razeel again, whose eyes were afire in outrage.