by Jordan Cramm
It's true what they say about Gral...temperamental bastard. Well, at least King Gorak over there seems in relatively good spirits.
“Oh give it up already,” Gorak exclaimed as he heard Lord Eklar trying to escape, “these foggin cells are not going to open without the keys, and the guards ain't likely to give em up. Besides, we die in the morning remember? Foggin spectacle it will be. Forgotten Ones truly forgotten. Damn Gral.”
“Not if I can help it,” Lord Eklar returned, “no one kills me and gets away with it.”
“Oh this is going to be a long night I see,” Fenka added, “with the two of you arguing. At least the morning will put an end to that. Still, I would have rather died fighting Orcs, or a trained foe, and not by the executioner's axe.”
“I told you,” Lord Eklar replied, “I am going to get us all out of here. Trust me.”
“Heh...you keep at it there bud. Those bars ain't foggin moving.”
Suddenly there was a noise; the sound of Lord Eklar escaping from his cell. It was enough to get Gorak and Fenka standing and peering through their own cells at him as he now stood in the walkway that separated the cells. There was no cause for alarm at the moment either, as the nearest guard would be down the hall, up a stone ramp, beyond some doors and likely asleep at a desk.
For Lord Eklar the escape was not a difficult thing. He had many hidden talents such as escaping such places. He had tools hidden on his person, which the guards had missed in their pat-downs, and now he stretched his arms as he stood free near the other cell doors. All of the other prisoners were grinning, but doing their best to keep quiet. They knew better than to cause the guards to come running, especially if there was a chance that they too might escape.
“Now then,” Lord Eklar said with a grin as he stepped toward Gorak's cell and leaned in, “tell me again...King Gorak...what are your plans when this business here on Molith is over?”
“The Izenian War Mage promised to help find a place for me and my subjects on his continent Polithica. Why?” Gorak grumbled.
“Well,” Lord Eklar returned, “because he isn't a King. I mean he can't well promise a set area can he? It is not in his power to offer territory as he doesn't own it. I on the other hand am Lord and King over the Darkened Isles, and I was wondering instead if you and your people might follow me? My people are already established within the mountains and deep in the world there.”
“And if we did go there, just how exactly would the foggin authority be handled? Two Kings under a mountain? One Elven and one Dwarven?”
“Well why not?” Lord Eklar shrugged, “After all, Molith has two Kings apart from you I mean...why could we not share the Darkened Isles? You would benefit in that there are already some established underground areas, which would save you and your people time in beginning the work of tunneling. Me and my people would benefit because Dwarven engineering could go a long way in drawing wealth from within the world. And both our people would gain mutually by having our numbers join for the purpose of security.”
“Well,” Gorak grunted, “I suppose you have valid points there.”
“Maybe so, but we have to get out of here first, and somehow off this continent with not only our Voodian, but our followers as well,” Fenka stated plainly, “and although you are out now, we are stuck. We would all have to escape for your proposal to be of value.”
“And maybe we can,” Lord Eklar spun in response, “you heard Gral...they were bound for topside. Both armies combined march above ground. So, if the underground is less populated now, at least for the moment, then couldn't we use it to get back to Elender? We could warn the Dwarves there that have chosen to follow you and let the people living topside there know what is coming their way soon.”
“What about the Izenians, and the other Elves that are topside?” Fenka asked.
“Who knows how their battles will fare. First Werewolves, then thousands of Dwarves marching against them...could go either way really. Do you want to wait around to watch the fallout or would you like to get ahead of the fury that has begun burning through this continent like a firestorm?”
“I see your point. Gorak, what do you say your majesty?” Fenka asked.
“Hmm,” he huffed, “I say...get us out of here Lord Eklar, and let us make with haste to the West—ahead of the firestorm.”
Lord Eklar turned and saw the faces of Dwarves all around in various cells. He didn't care what they were in for. It didn't matter really. Each was imprisoned, and each if they stayed would have a life ruined. So Lord Eklar gave a brief speech, saying that any who wished to join their cause could—that he would break them free. But in so doing, they would call King Gorak their Dwarven King, and they would help the entire band escape.
Most of King Gorak's followers had already been killed, but nearly one hundred still lived and were locked in cells. Some were close by, and reaffirmed their decision to follow Gorak as their King. So one by one, Lord Eklar began opening cells, making sure that everyone remained silent until all were released. After that, it was not hard to overwhelm the few guards that were down the hall, up the stone ramp, beyond the doors and at the desk. When it was accomplished, Fenka asked what the next part of the plan was, and Lord Eklar commented that he wasn't leaving without his things. King Gorak grinned at the remark, sharing the sentiment.
“We will have our armor and weapons back for sure now,” Lord Eklar grinned, “and perhaps more.”
Their group had taken control of the lower prison and began moving at King Gorak's behest. Along the way they recovered enough weapons and armor to make their mission possible, and Lord Eklar especially was grateful to have recovered his own weapons and armor.
As they began ascending through higher levels, King Gorak told his followers to take anything of value they could carry, and told them that weapons, armor and supplies were the first priority. Fenka was impressed, seeing Gorak give such orders and taking charge now; it was a side of him she had only ever seen personally in their times together as Scouts. Now though, it was on a much larger scale. She also admired the way the Dwarves that followed him came together as well. She expected it from those that had followed him to the Catacombs of Gral, but now as they went, stragglers had joined them too from the prison, and they too seemed to be falling into rank and file as they moved along.
They knew also that cave rams would be needed, and that it would speed their journey. Of course acquiring them had required a small skirmish underground, and Lord Eklar for one, was happy to shed blood. He was at the front of the ranks with King Gorak and Fenka when it happened. He grinned when two dozen armed guards stood in their path.
“This shouldn't foggin take long,” King Gorak said as he pinched the corner of his mustache and grinned, “there aren't enough of them to stop us.”
“Wait,” Lord Eklar Felken asked, “and give me the honor of first blood.”
King Gorak simply nodded and Lord Eklar stepped forward in a stride that the Dwarves behind him had to admire. It was excellent bravado, and as he stepped forward, his cloak trailed behind him. Lord Eklar's hand reached within his jacket and clenched his kunai. His next moves were lightning quick.
The Dwarven Guards opposing him must not have known who he was, or they figured that only a mad idiot would leave the safety of the shield wall behind. Of course they had to have known they wouldn't win against such a force, but just the same their advance showed them to at least be brave.
Lord Eklar launched his kunai quickly, and it sailed right over the top of a Dwarven shield and struck the Dwarf in the neck, causing it to begin dying immediately. Then he yanked back on the cordage attached to the vicious spear-tip weapon, bringing the Dwarf forward and to the ground, causing another Dwarf to trip over the dying one, and bringing the kunai sailing back at Lord Eklar at high speed in the process. Lord Eklar however knew how to use the weapon and so with a series of movements with his own arms, he wrapped the cordage back until the momentum of the weapon had come to a halt, bringing it b
ack into his hand. Then, with fluid strikes, he let the kunai fly once more, but this time he sailed it back and forth through the air from side to side, using it to slash at Dwarves over the tops of their shields. Only when it struck a shield did the attack stop, and three more Dwarves had fallen in the meantime.
Now they were advancing though, so as Lord Eklar reeled in his kunai once more, the Dwarves at his back advanced as well, creating a shield wall of their own. King Gorak's hammer flew over the top of Fenka's shield and now they began to overwhelm their enemy. As for Lord Eklar, he had put his kunai away and was now fighting with his two fearsome daggers.
It wasn't long after that the Dwarven guards that tried blockading the stable of cave rams were overrun, and their blood was returning to the stone beneath them. The fury unleashed upon them had been cold and precise. King Gorak paused, thinking it unfortunate that Dwarven brothers had to die, but all the same he knew it was necessary. Shortly afterwards, his group mounted cave rams and as for the ones they could not put a rider on, those were released into the Catacombs of Gral. King Gorak knew after all, they could create a certain level of chaos and distraction once set free, and he knew that advantage could aid their escape.
Their escape had gone more or less unchallenged after that. They had gathered what supplies the could, and they had banded together well, killing the few guards along the way that they encountered as they went. King Gorak smiled inwardly and thought it fitting recompense for the betrayal the other two Kings had shown him. If only we could repay the kindness to Gral himself. Foggin bastard.
They knew their ride would yet be long, as it would take days even at a full ride to reach Elender once more. Still, King Gorak knew that the bulk of his followers were there preparing for his return, and that now they all stood a chance of leaving the shores of Molith, well in advance of the Dwarven armies that were now topside. He took a moment to let his thoughts drift though. He knew none of it would have been possible without the aid of the Izenian War Mage who was now topside, locked in a battle of his own.
There wasn't much talk as they rode, but mainly because they rode fast. King Gorak and many of his people knew where to stop to rest and draw water though, as well as gather vegetation for food. Still, he pushed them all hard, allowing only the briefest of rests, and only when he felt like the cave rams would begin to drop without one.
“You were amazing today,” Fenka said during one such rest, “you will make a good King I think.”
“You're just saying that,” Gorak chided, “cause you know I'd like you at my side as my Queen.”
“No really Gorak I...” she stuttered, “wait, you what?”
“It's true woman. We've been Scouts and part of the Forgotten Ones together long enough. You're ornery for sure, and you have a nasty habit of reminding me of our troubles by no foggin mistake, but you help balance me out.”
“I...Well is that a marriage proposal then?”
“It sure is darling.”
“Well,” Fenka said as she felt the reality of it hit her at once, “I mean...yeah. I would like to continue being your partner. Yes. I say yes.”
King Gorak nodded and sighed a breath of relief. He hadn't been sure she would say yes, but now it was accepted.
As Lord Eklar returned from a seep for water, he asked what he had missed. He could tell he had missed something by their now awkward silence.
“I...” Fenka answered, “Well King Gorak just proposed.”
Lord Eklar cocked his head sideways with a slight grin.
“Well,” he said, “I would say we should celebrate but being on the run as we are, I think our options may be limited here.”
“That's the foggin truth of it,” King Gorak grumbled, “so the sooner we get moving, the sooner we get gone.”
“Always so poetic,” Fenka remarked with a grin, “which is why maybe when we do get married, we should keep the vows simple.”
“What?”
“Nothing dear. Let's get moving.”
“Couldn't have foggin said it better myself.”
Chapter 23: The Bloodgrounds
The camp was gathered round Wolflen now, who still held the shield bubble in place, keeping them safe for the moment. However, the Werewolves had begun to dig now, and their strategy was clear. If they couldn't break through the shield, they would go under it. Wolflen knew it was only a matter of time before his force would be fighting again, though everyone was thankful for the respite they had gained when his shield bubble went up.
It had given them time to build new barriers, and though they were not quite as defensive as the ones they had before the battle began, they had managed to make new barricades with spear tips all around. They knew though that their last stand against the Werewolves was imminent. They had gathered together now at Wolflen's request, and by the orders of Ayvock, Jakarta, and Trevel.
“Soldiers of Akartha...” Wolflen said loudly, “I am afraid this shield bubble will be down before our Elven reinforcements arrive. We will have to fight once more. Some of us will likely not see dawn. Already we've littered this whole area with enemy and ally dead. Each one of you has already proven your worth ten times over. I would ask no more of you were there another way, but there isn't. We must each of us fight to our last breath. This isn't our homeland, nor did we start this war. We aren't fighting for our freedoms here this day, but for our survival. When this shield comes down it begins again. We will never forget the horrors we have witnessed here this day, but we should neither forget our fallen, nor those who yet draw breath. I ask each of you now to stand fast. We will hold this ground, or we will die to the last man.”
A shout of cheers went out through the crowd, and it seemed his speech had the effect he had hoped for. Many soldiers began shouting that they were ready, and that the enemy could bring it on. It gave him hope to hear that, though he knew he was greatly fatigued, and very uncertain of his own powers now. He wished there was a way he could somehow call a time-out; a cessation of battle. He knew of course, the notion was not reality. His companions seemed to know it too...they knew it so much that Katrina and Ravenshade left their archer tower and now stood with Wolflen.
“What are you doing?” Wolflen asked them as they stood on either side of him.
“Raven was getting antsy being couped up in the tower. And this is going to get serious down here on the ground. So if this is to be it, then I just assume stand by your side when it happens,” Katrina said, “and seeing as how you are currently holding that shield still, I don't think you could drag me away.”
Wolflen smiled sheepishly. He appreciated the sentiment, and besides, he was too tired to argue with her in an argument that had never before given him any different answer than the one she gave now. He thanked her quietly.
“Raven huh? Not Ravenshade?”
Katrina smiled.
“Yeah well, she and I have been getting closer. Less formal.”
“I told her to just call me Raven,” Ravenshade interjected, “my friends do.”
Wolflen nodded. He was standing now from the chair he had been in, but his arms were still raised. His body ached, and he wished the battle were over. “If you never push your limits, you won't know what they are.” I hear you Jakarta...I hear you. Guess we are all going to learn a little about ourselves this day aren't we?
“Soldiers of Akartha,” Wolflen yelled again, “be ready. I am dropping the shield in just moments.”
Inside the shield bubble, their barricade formed a circle around them. Inside that circle was the rest of their camp, but just behind the barricade were soldiers, each with sword and shields in hand. As Wolflen spoke, there was a thunderous sound as shields formed up together to create their shield wall. Some of the soldiers even began clanging their swords against their own shields, begging for the battle to start, even if deep down each of them had their own fears about it. They had followed Wolflen so far however, and would follow him further.
Suddenly the shield bubble around their cam
p disappeared in an instant. Then the snarls and growls grew closer, but the Izenians roared with a fury from within themselves, nearly drowning out the noise of the enemy. Jaws snapped, and the barricade began taking its first victims, as had happened with their previous barricade. The Werewolves didn't seem to have a care for the danger to themselves; they just kept swarming. Bodies clashed again, but this time the shield wall of the Akartha soldiers was doing well. Swords, warhammers, axes, spears, maces...they each found their mark. Few Izenians were falling now.
Wolflen let out a fury of telekinetic force which he focused ahead of the front line, causing several of the advancing Werewolves to slam backwards into the barricade of spear tips.
“Push!” Jakarta yelled.
“Forward!” Ayvock echoed.
Wolflen and Katrina strode toward the front line themselves, and again he found himself mingled with friend and foe alike. He dug down deep to find reserves of energy he hadn't expected. He admitted to himself he was grateful for all of the training Jakarta had given him. Ravenshade proved to be a big help now too, fighting beside him and using her own twin swords to more than once keep him from meeting a Werewolf claw or set of snapping jaws. Katrina too helped in her own way, using her own single Flameblade to stab and cut when and where she could, though she was less trained in close-quarters combat; a thing Wolflen feared for.
As a Werewolf leapt for her, Wolflen himself barreled into the Werewolf, grappling it by wrapping his arms around it in a full tackle until it struck the ground. Then as he pulled backwards slightly, he brought forth both hands, sending jolt after jolt of electricity into the Werewolf, frying it at once. Katrina didn't have time to thank him however, as she saw another Werewolf leap at her. This time, she herself ducked to her knees with her Flameblade held above her head. The Werewolf landed in split pieces behind her.