Death Knight Box Set Books 1-5: A humorous power fantasy series

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Death Knight Box Set Books 1-5: A humorous power fantasy series Page 56

by Michael Chatfield


  “I was once told that the scariest thing is not the murderous psy- chopathic ones.” Anthony felt heavy as his eyes dropped to where the flame met the ground.

  “It’s the ones who carry out diabolical acts. They don’t really think that anything is wrong with it. They’re just doing a job. The emperor said that it was legal. They weren’t just doing what was right; they were following the law. I’ve seen it before: people who are idealists, but the idea that they follow is not something intrin- sic, but a person. As that person changes their mind, as they be- come people’s moral compass, things that would have been unac- ceptable are just something different. Ideas can be a powerful thing.

  They can raise people to be great, or it can cause them to fall into despair, or remove their moral compass. If

  someone gives up their moral compass and doesn’t question it, then it can become deadly. Look at the militaries—if they tell someone to do something, then they will do it, sometimes out of fear, but other times because they believe in the military so much that of course the military wouldn’t do anything wrong.” Antho- ny shook his head. “People who walk the world thinking they’re awakened because of someone else’s vil- ification are the truly blind. Those who think they are blind but are searching for an answer will have their eyes open to the world around them.”

  Tommie didn’t say anything, just sitting there with his own thoughts.

  “Now we have to take these two militaries that hated one an- other, or were at least made to think that they hated one another, and have them fight beside one another.”

  “How?” Tommie asked.

  “First we get them to know one another, then we make them com- pete, and then they fight.” Anthony looked over to a tent in the middle of the line.

  ***

  Around the room, people and beast kin intermingled with one another. Each of them glared daggers at the others. They all knew one another, hearing reports on the others to know how they

  would think in battle. It felt as if they were chained-up beasts, all slashing and growling at one another, just inches away from drawing blood.

  “My name is General Fysher. I have been fighting since I was a young boy. All I know is how to wage war. I have had two wives and I have five children. Two of which serve—one as a familiar mage, the other as a regular soldier. The third, who hates me, is a mer-

  chant who left for Epan and Ilsal. The fourth is a mother and has nothing to do with me. The other is a boy. I heard that he was a landowner looking after my first wife. I would wish to be a ranger if I could. I like nature,

  being left alone and also searching unknown areas, foraging for myself.” Fysher gritted his teeth together as the purple bands around him re- laxed.

  “My name is Line General Gheta. I have been fighting since I was a kid. I have raised eight children. My first husband was killed at the front. In order to get revenge for him, I joined the military. I have learned how to fight over my adult life. With the power of my old clan spirit, I was able to fight even in my old age.” Gheta looked at the staff in her hands. “I don’t think that I will be so ca- pable now. I had him re- moved from my body as he used my mind against me. He turned me in- to a person dedicated to war. I have lost contact with my children who have grown up across Radal, the Deepwood, and the islands. I wish to go and find them again, not to talk to them or impose on their lives but to see how they are living. I wonder if they have children of their own.” Gheta had a sad smile on her face. “All I have is this now. So I will fight for the people of Dena and then I will wander Dena until the end of my days, serving others and helping them. I will probably never see my children again. It saddens me, but then I think about the people who will never see their children again because of my ac-

  tions. Seems

  only fair.”

  The tension in the room turned as people shifted their feet.

  “ I am Vice Veneral Spiros, Father was a lord, I’m a bastard, wanted to get his eye fighting, instead he picked me to fight beside him,” Spiros looked at Fysher and frowned.

  “Someone needed to look after your stupid ass,” Fysher said.

  There were a few laughs as people started to let the tension bleed off, the humans and the Beast-kin still talked in their own groups, but they weren’t looking to actively murder them in the command center now.

  With their orders the groups were forced to talk to one anoth- er, share their story.

  General Fysher looked at the people in the room as they talked, as they learned about who they were, their family, what they cared about, and what they wanted to do after the war.

  Fysher found it harder and harder to look at them with anger. Their stories were so similar to his own people. He didn’t know what would happen.

  “Army to the south!” someone called out and reached the tent.

  Gheta and Fysher both ran out of the command tent and went up to the tower together. They were to stick together all day and night. They looked to the south.

  “What?” Fysher saw columns upon columns of men and women marching up the line. There were dwarves, elves, beast kin, gnomes, dwarves, humans, and goblins among them. An old ban- ner that looked as though it had stood the test of time was raised in front of the army. It was black and red, like the armor that the army was wearing. Upon it, there was a purple symbol.

  Seeing them, Fysher felt shaken. Then he saw Guardian Antho- ny with his golden wings appear.

  The army snapped off a salute to him in a crisp fashion. He snapped off a salute back; a woman appeared from the middle of the army and saluted Anthony before hugging him. The two of them sunk into a talk as Anthony and the woman looked at the beast kin and human army.

  Fysher could feel the weight of their gazes. His eyes moved to the army once again.

  “Look, there are goblin grenadiers, gnomes in their contrap- tions and moving with the dwarves and their ranged artillery. The elves are with the humans, the hobgoblin shamans and the beast kin elemental- ists. Are those elementals with them?”

  “Each unit has all of the species in it. They complement and as- sist one another. Look at the melee units—there are dwarven gun- ners, gob- lin grenadiers, elven sword dancers, humans with aug- menting famil-

  iars, gnomes in their war machines, and powerful beast kin melee types. Look at the ground,” Fysher said.

  “It is smoothing out for them, creating a road,” Gheta said. “I’m guessing that is the elemental’s work. I thought that they

  were a myth,” Fysher said.

  A horn came out from within the formation. They came to a per- fect halt and stared at the beast kin and human army.

  The difference between the two groups was vast.

  Anthony and the elven woman who had greeted him entered the formation. After about ten minutes, the units started to move, heading east and west.

  “Come with me,” Tommie said to Gheta and Fysher, who were up in the tower.

  They quickly went down and followed Tommie like two chil- dren who knew they had done wrong. The two groups were headed into Radal and Selenus.

  “What is this army?” Gheta asked.

  “One of the United Armies that has been groomed and cared for by the elves in the Deepwood. There is more than just elves in those forests, you know?” Tommie said.

  “Where are they going?” Fysher said.

  “To destroy doorways that will allow the Drafeng in,” Tommie said.

  But they’re invading our lands, Fysher wanted to say, but he kept it bottled up.

  They passed the moving units and reached the command cen- ter that was a table with a map of the area.

  Anthony and the elven woman turned to look at the two gen- erals.

  Those with them stared at them with distrust in their eyes. Fysher didn’t want to admit how much that look burned.

  “The United Army will head to the east and west to start clear- ing out doorways. You will be under the command of Watcher Ce- cilia,

  commander of the
First Deepwood United Army. Formerly the First United Army of Dena,” Anthony said as they arrived.

  Chapter: Facing the Coming Storm

  Claire looked at Aila as she checked her gear. “I’m ready,” Aila said.

  The gate that led to the north was opened by the dwarves. “Once I meet with my mother and the dark elves, I’ll get them

  to pull back to Shivernsin,” Aila said.

  “Good luck, Guardian Aila. We’ll keep the flames going,” Claire said.

  Aila nodded and pulled up her mask as Ryan turned around and then started to run toward the north and into the snow and wind. He was covered in furs. He had grown with Aila, his speed causing a trail of snow to be thrown up behind him.

  “Close the gates,” Logan said after a few minutes. The doors started to creak and groan, the old timbers pushed back into posi- tion once again.

  Claire walked toward the long sloped walkways that rose up to the twenty-meter wall.

  Logan followed her as she walked.

  There were warm houses every twenty meters. Along the wall, wrapped in waterproof skins, were the gnome cannons and weapons. Stones and rolling wood were in good supply. She looked back toward the stronghold that stood there. The cold wind didn’t affect it as de- fenses stacked upon one another: cannons ready to be filled and fired, casting areas prepared for mages. Her eyes moved down the stronghold to its base and she looked down, as if she could see through the ground to the rest of the stronghold be- low.

  “Something on your mind?” Logan asked.

  “The last time we waged war against the Drafeng, we didn’t know what was happening. We served to remove chaos and then found out they were only the precursor to an invasion. Now we

  157

  know that an in- vasion is coming but half of the world has been waging war against the

  88

  other half. Some prepared and kept their word, as your family did. Oth- ers forgot.”

  Some just stood by the side. Claire felt shame as Logan Icearm looped his fingers into his belt and let out a sigh that left behind a large cloud in the cold mountain air.

  “I thought that the stories that I was told were just that—sto- ries that were meant to teach me. Now, as an adult, I see the truths behind them. They weren’t just stories. They were lessons and talked about the lives of others. Meant to make me question the world, what I was see- ing in front of me and know what was right from wrong. I’m not a per- fect dwarf. I doubt that anyone would say that they were perfect. If they did...” Logan gave Claire a look and she smiled slightly in agreement.

  He turned back to the north.

  “We should look to the past for help and information, but our fu- ture hasn’t been written out. I will fight against those who at- tack my people, who attack Dena. That is the oath that I made. Maybe that is foolish, but I can do it with a clear conscience.”

  “So, what can we do?” He turned to Claire with a dwar- ven grin. “We can fight and hope that we make enough time for Dena to

  come together.”

  “Seems a lot more straightforward now.”

  Claire shook her head at the dwarf and looked at the north, the fa- miliar peaks and valleys. Her smile stilled as she remem- bered several lifetimes ago, when she had stood on this wall, when she had stood in the Northern Basin where the Drafeng arrived last time.

  To win, we will need the Guardians. The enchantment didn’t work, but I checked them; they are still undead and bound to me. If I was able to destroy my heart, then it would release my hold over them and then they would be free undead, able to raise themselves. If not, with me gone and without them being bound, then Aila can raise them.

  90 MICHAEL CHATFIELD

  She bit her lip, a decision made, but she couldn’t help feel her heart twist. She looked down. Her hand curled up over her chest as she felt her heart, to the south.

  He’s my heart and my world, but won’t it be worth it—my life for the people of Dena? Even if I’m not a Guardian anymore.

  She trembled.

  “You’re not wearing much. You’ll catch a cold out here,” Logan said, seeing her shiver.

  He didn’t know that liches weren’t affected by the wind and snow, but they couldn’t escape their hearts.

  A Lich’s Love Death Knight Book 5 By: Michael Chatfield

  Chapter: Open and Closed doors

  The majors of Shiversin Stronghold stood silent and listened atten- tively, their eyes glued on Claire.

  She stood in the middle, resting her hands on the command table carved with a map of Dena.

  The cold winds of Shiversin couldn’t be heard inside the com- mand center carved from stone.

  “We need to send out war bands to eliminate the closest door- ways connecting the Drafeng to Dena. Allowing them to continue as they have, we put our rear in danger. Our forces will be spread too thin and we’ll die by a million cuts.” Claire said. “Doorways are formed with locus stones, destroy them and the doorway collaps- es.”

  “Can they be broken with normal weapons?” A Beast kin asked. “Yes, the locus stones are located at the base of the doorway.

  Do not step into a doorway. You may be teleported to the Drafeng’s plane. It is a place of incredible heat and desert. Our men will not last long there.”

  Logan, the leader of Shiversin had a grim expression. “Any issues that you can see?” Claire asked.

  “That is a deep ravine, no way we can get cannons in there,” One of the Dwarf Majors pointed to one of the doorways to the South East.

  “What if we drop some Goblin explosives and collapse the ravine?” A gnome asked.

  “That should work.” Claire said.

  164

  “If we want to hold Shiversin stronghold and take out those gates we have marked. We won’t also be able to attack the Northern Basin,” Logan said.

  “Then I hope our reinforcements, willing or not will ar- rive soon.

  I didn’t just sense doorways, the Drafeng also brought Queens.”

  “Garron’s beard,” Logan grit his teeth. “A Queen produces Chaotic beasts. If chaotic beasts kill and consume enough power from one another, they transform into Drafeng. They’re turning the Northern basin into a warrior factory.”

  Claire nodded slightly, the leaders around the table taking sharp breaths.

  “There is a silver lining. Queens need tremendous amounts of mana. Too many of them in an area and the mana depletes, drop- ping their reproductive speeds. If we can hamper the mana, we re- duce their reproduction speed and gain time.”

  The Majors were all listening in at this recommendation.

  “The Northern Basin looks scary, but they are pinned in one lo- cation. The doorways are spread out. Villages, towns and cities lay ahead of them, some with only wooden walls and soldiers that are too young or too old to fight in the Southerners stupid wars.”

  “Why do we care about the Southeners? How many legions and armies attacked our gates?”

  “It doesn’t matter, Southeners, Northeners, people from the is- lands, from the east or west. We are people of Dena!”

  She had infused her voice with power, making everyone stand up straight, their hair shooting up.

  “You have manned Shiversin, trained in the dark and suffered in the light. You, each of you are descendants of the Guardians, even if their blood runs through your veins or not. Being a Guardian is not a blood right, it is a code one takes up, devotes themselves to. Here, you make a choice, will you; the legions of Shiversin show Dena the strength of your oaths, or will you turn a blind eye?”

  Logan’s eyes scanned the room.

  “Shiversin, is a stronghold made by the people of Dena, in its de- fense. I will sleep in my crypt knowing that I carried out my du-

  ty. When others bred hate and anger. We did what was right. Not what we wanted to do it just because it was convenient.”

  His eyes were clear as he looked at Claire. “So, we take care of these other doorways. Hold the north and then we w
ill remove the Drafeng stain in our northern Basin.”

  “That’s the plan,” Claire said.

  Grim men and women stood ready for their orders.

  For honor and for oaths that many forgot. They’ll take on thank- less missions to carry out their duty.

  Claire stood straighter in the presence of such people.

  ***

  After the meeting Claire wandered the stronghold as she looked over the units stationed in Shiversin.

  “You know I don’t need protection,” Claire said, looking back at the two Dwarves following her.

  “Millie and I were just going on a stroll,” Krosem said with a lop- sided smile.

  Millie rolled her eyes, her rifle stuck over her shoulder, longer than she was tall.

  “Fine craftsmanship,” Claire said, looking at one of the Shiv- ersin Warband’s bays.

  “Goblin Grenadiers with Gnome grenade throwers, Dwarven gunners using Goblin powder, Gnomes using their Mech-aniks, even Beast kin using a mix of weaponry that fits their fighting style. Dark Elves that animate smaller Mech-aniks and weaponry with their necromancy, or act as mages and all of them wearing some form of Dwarven armor.”

 

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