More knocks. “Who’s there?” Argorok asked irately. By the weight of the knocks alone he figured it to be one of his kin; however he was not expecting anyone this night.
“Frick,” said the giant outside the house. Argorok opened the massive door.
As Frick entered, Argorok was walking away from the door. He sat in a chair in his chamber and his fellow giant closed the door behind him and followed. Frick was a trusted advisor to Argorok and friend long before Faletonia was founded. He was not a stone giant, but his tribe coexisted with Argorok’s stone giant clan in the mountains to the west. Argorok reached for an enormous jug and grabbed the two large wooden cups beside it.
“Wine?” the stone giant asked Frick.
“Please,” Frick took the filled cup. “While this attack by the human cities is troublesome, it was expected at some point,” he said, getting right to the point.
Argorok finished a large gulp and looked at his friend. “Yes, but this type of aggression was unanticipated. Their force is supposedly large and means business.”
After his own sip, and a wipe of his mustache, Frick replied. “Yes, but there are thousands of orcs and goblins in Southland as well as several ogres and giants including, of course, Bix Olan Fod.” The name mentioned was that of a cloud giant, a species of giant rarely seen and extremely formidable. They were known to think themselves superior to even other giants, and certainly to ogres, orcs and goblins. It was a surprise to all the giant folk to see a cloud giant arrive at Faletonia, but they welcomed him nonetheless. His story was never shared and no one dared to ask. Although very volatile, the unique species would be very useful. They were notorious to be some of the wisest beings in all the realms and extremely powerful and equally cunning. No one knew for certain if the mystical powers they possessed in fables and tales were indeed true, nevertheless Bix Olan Fod would certainly be a terrorizing force for the humans to deal with.
“We are at the time Frick, when things are so complicated that a multitude of decisions need to be made simultaneously and each correctly. Many of these decisions will be made tomorrow in the Scorpion’s Den. We have just broken ground in Eastland and Northland. But these cities’ construction will now mostly have to occur during war.” The stone giant sipped his wine and continued. “We cannot keep our eyes everywhere at once. The dwarves remain on the verge of attacking us to the west even though we pay them greatly from our mining. Yet we may have to stop that soon, which will certainly force them to attack. The proud folk of the mountain do not forget quickly the murder of their kin. The humans are the problem to our south. Northland, Eastland seem to prosper; I hear more and more orcs continue to arrive. How many of them are out there? Their arrival seems to never end. Who knew Herridon was filled with so many of the creatures?” With that he put his mouth to his cup and sipped again, then refilled it from the jug.
“Yes, the orcs.” Frick said as he stroked his long goatee. There was a hint of concern in his voice, which drew a glance from Argorok. “They make up a vast majority of the population of Faletonia, and as you mentioned their numbers continue to expand.” Argorok leaned back in his chair and eyed his friend curiously. “I’ve heard that it is becoming difficult to contain them. The acts of inter-tribal warfare have increased along with bullying the weaker goblins.”
“Yes and Ayliki tells us that disciplinary measures are taken. I’m impressed by how the orcs have held together, all things considered. The goblins don’t fight each other out of fear of the repercussions, but the orcs…I had trepidations that they would cause a wearisome fissure within Faletonia. So far it has been ok, but we cannot afford it to become a problem. Why do you mention this, do you feel as though this needs to be addressed?”
Frick remained quiet for brief moment. A pensive expression marked his freckled face as he continued, “Northland and Eastland were mostly built by and will be occupied by orcs.”
“As are Midland and Southland. They are the majority.”
“And this is why I am concerned and am here, Argorok,” snapped Frick as he leaned forward and continued. “There are twenty two if our kin in Faletonia, and even though we know that a dozen giants are worth more than a thousand orcs, they number many thousand and growing. The humans are now our enemies outside of our nation, but I fear a growing potential enemy within.”
This took Argorok by surprise. He had thought similar musings but did not think anyone else had the same trepidations. The orcs were the main power of Faletonia. Twenty two giants and a few dozen ogres were going to be scattered among five cities, each populated with thousands of orcs. At the time, the orcs also held the greatest number of seats on the Council of Leaders. There were rarely ever arguments between races within the confines of the Scorpion’s Den; everyone’s interests were presently aligned, however if the orcs began to consistently disagree with the other races, they could very well be inclined to force their will upon others. And thus the foundations of Faletonia would crumble.
“How large of a problem do you see this being? Is this a path on which you consider us clearly headed? Argorok’s voice boomed, his clean-shaven light grey face showing surprise.
“I believe that if we keep the orcish leaders with the most power content, they will keep things in order to preserve their own power. While Ayliki, Minsheen, Neemno, and Stath have more stress and responsibility than they have ever had, they also realize the power they’ve gained, and have never eaten, drank or lived so lavishly or likely laid with so many females. You do well in handling them. But their power also worries me.” Frick answered, referring to the three orcs on the Council, and one other who was of significant influence.
“You too handle things quite impressively my friend.” Argorok said and held his hand forward. The two giants touched their glasses then drank.
“If we know anything about orcs, it is that they are war faring creatures who love a good fight…and I’m sure our vast population of orcs here would love to slay some humans.” As Argorok spoke, Frick’s expression showed he strongly desired for him to continue. “We will give them what they want. Instead of fighting each other which you mentioned they have been doing more and more, we will allow them to fight a common foe. Tomorrow I propose we send aid to Southland to relieve them of their siege. We should send an enormous force, larger than anything that has been seen in these lands. Once the city is stable, the council will appoint an orcish commander to run the city. An orc will also lead in Northland, and a giant in Eastland.”
“An orc in Northland as well, you don’t think this will give them too much power? “
“No, they will relish in their power and at the same time maintain order in the new city in order to illustrate their new found authority. Don’t forget, while they are savage, they do want long sought after prosperity…just like us.”
“And our kin? How does this strengthen us?” Frick asked.
“We are proposing this. This will surprise our orcish members of the Council, and satisfy them and their barbaric desires. Meanwhile, our influence grows each time they accept our suggestions. And, of course, we will send a number of giants along to aide our forces in Southland. Many an orc will bear witness to why giants are so powerful and to not be contended within our society. Our domination in battle goes unmatched.” With this Argorok held forward his glass. Frick, although not completely relieved of his worries, again tapped his friend’s glass with his own and drank.
***
Clouds hung lazily in the sky as if they were curiously watching the battering ram make its way towards the gate. As it got closer, the ramparts quickly became filled with figures. Orcs and goblins lined the walls and readied arrows. When the ram was within range an orcish commander gave an order, and hundreds of arrows rained onto the battering ram and those who pushed it. The first cries of carnage of the siege were heard as a couple of men were hit, but the protective canvas did well in protecting most of them. The arrows continued. The ram was now closing in on twenty yards to the large wooden bloc
kade. When it got to within just a few yards, the defenders began throwing large rocks and dumping hot oil onto the attackers, but again the protective top served well.
Victus watched intensely. He ordered thirty more men to run to the ram. They did so with shields as close together as they could to protect from the arrows. Still a third of the men would not reach the ram, falling dead or maimed by the missiles.
BOOM! The first crash of the ram was heard like thunder through the land. That was the sign for the other two factions to the left and right to begin moving the siege towers into place. The wheels of the large towers could be heard squeaking as they were slowly pushed towards the walls. Arrows, many lit on fire to attempt to ignite the structures, hit the tower when the large rolling masses were within range. Cleverly, the humans had dampened the wood in anticipation of this tactic.
The siege towers were made mostly with timber, wider at the base then the top, but almost in the form of a huge rectangle. Inside they were hollow and had steep stairs that went to the top, which was made to about thirty feet high at its highest point. There was a heavy bridge that would be opened and drop onto the top of the walls at just over twenty feet. The humans would pour from inside the siege tower onto the walls as quickly as possible. Once on the rampart, they would attempt to battle their way towards the defenses behind the gate, to assist the main force in entering. Of course it would not be that simple though.
BOOM! The ram continued to smash the gate, but made very little progress. The defenders had leaned huge tree trunks against the back of the gate as additional support. More and more hot oil was being dumped onto the battering ram’s protective shell. On top of the wall, an orc notched an arrow and another orc lit the tip on fire. So far the defenders by the gate had not shot arrows that were on fire at the battering ram; they waited until the top was covered in oil. The orc pulled back the string and let fly. The arrow hit the canvas, which immediately exploded into vicious flames. Screams of burning men filled the air and cheers went up among the Faletonians who watched.
“Archers!” Victus yelled, not sounding at all panicked, “step forward and fire back!” The archers began to move forward.
The siege towers were closing in on the walls. There were also several long ladders being carried behind the towers, but they were not brought forward yet as the Faletonians would surely kill anyone who tried to set and climb the ladder at this early stage of the siege. They needed chaos to break lose atop the walls from the invading men in the towers before scaling the barrier with ladders.
“Priests of Aya.” Victus urgently beckoned the followers of the goddess of air. Katriel looked at Elberon then rode to her commander with the other two priests of her order.
“Yes sir,” she said on behalf of all the followers of Aya.
“Keep the arrows from reaching our archers and if possible even the men at the ram and help our arrows get atop and over the walls.” The clerics nodded at their commander and dismounted from their horses. As the priests moved towards the archers who had advanced in the direction of the city, Captain Antonel beckoned the sole priest of Tuemis, god of the hearth and home, who remained with his force. “Verngo!” he called the man’s name impatiently several times.
The cleric arrived quickly. Victus pointed to a contingent of twenty men nearby. “Can you strengthen their defenses from the piercing arrows?”
“Yes, some of them, my captain.”
“As the priests of Aya finish their spells...protect those men.” He nodded his strong chin in the direction of twenty soldiers.
“Yes sir,” Verngo said and rode his horse to the group of men and dismounted watching the priests and priestess of Aya closely.
CRASH. The first of the siege towers, the one to the east, had dropped its heavy bridge. It landed perfectly atop the walls. Immediately dozens of arrows were shot into the vacant space where the bridge had just been. Out of the tower came a few crossbow shots and the dead bodies of the front row of men who were not covered with shields. But the soldiers, some with shields some not, kept going up the tower and out the top, over the small bridge and onto the wall. One after another after another they poured in. Arrows kept bombarding them, but there were just too many humans. Eventually men made it to the walls and hacked at the first enemies they saw. This caused orcs and goblins alike to discard their bows and draw weapons to defend the city.
The same was happening far to the west, except the defenders there used a good strategy. They had taken some slippery oil and dumped it all over the bridge when it fell atop the wall. The men then had to move slowly across, taking more arrows. But eventually bodies of their lifeless comrades became stepping-stones onto the walls allowing them to cross more rapidly.
BOOM! The ram continued. The heat from the blaze atop the ram made it difficult to operate, but the men continued on regardless.
The three priests of Aya stood beside each other just in front of the archers. They were all out of the range of the defenders arrows and certainly out of range for their arrows to reach over the wall. The three clerics began to chant in unison with their palms facing out towards the city, arms extended. Their chanting gained volume and all the human soldiers could feel wind beginning to blow from their back. A light blue hue emanated from the clerics’ hands then grew to encompass the three of them as they slowly raised their arms up and towards the city. Within seconds strong winds blew mightily at the armies back as if a heavy exhaust of breath from the lungs of Aya herself. The gusts came with such force that the soldiers had to brace themselves and some held their helmets steady. The wind howled and crashed against the city walls with great velocity. The exhibit of nature’s dominance had many men in awe, others startled, and some horses panicking.
The defenders atop the wall could barely keep themselves steady. They shot arrows that would travel five feet into the heavy wind and then blow to the ground. They could hardly aim at the men below them, crashing at their gate. The human archers, about two hundred, began to fire. Their arrows had the wind at their back and flew with great speed to the top of the walls, well further than they would have without the unnatural guiding force. Missiles of death barraged Faletonians and some were even blown off the wall to a twenty foot deadly or debilitating drop behind them. The human archers kept firing and hundreds and hundreds of arrows tore through the defenders. The men pushing the ram received a reprieve from the defender’s barrage. The wind continued and howled relentlessly. The horses of the human cavalry became uneasy, but were controlled by their riders as they waited to enter the fray.
“Now, Verngo,” screamed Victus into the wind. The priest could barely make out his words, which were carried away in the currents of the air, but Verngo knew what he was to do. He took out a vile of holy water and splashed it onto the crowd of twenty men before him. He then recited a prayer to Tuemis. His hands were surrounded by a maroon colored mist, which moved lightly over the crowd. When the smoke evanesced, some men stood confused, as others were looking mystified at what exposed skin they had out of the armor. Their flesh had turned a crimson color and was rugged and hard as stone. Only half had been affected; Verngo had hoped to affect more people, but simply did not have the power.
“Go to the battering ram!” The Captain yelled over the slowing wind as the priests of Ayas’ spells began to lose strength. The men, feeling energized and impenetrable, ran to support their colleagues and replace those who had fallen at the ram as defenders returned to their spots on the wall top. Within moments arrows started to descend again on the attackers. Some men were hit, but the new arrivals with the magical stone skin were hardly affected and they worked their hardest pulling and pushing the ram. The gate began to splinter and crack under the force of the blows, which drew cheers from the invaders. The gate would be breached soon.
The scenes to the east and west were similar to one another. Humans continued to enter the towers and pour over the bridges then onto the wall. There they were met with arrows, spears and swords, but continued
determinedly. Hand to hand combat erupted chaotically. The defense was made up of mostly orcs, who typically were larger and stronger than the men; however they wielded cruder weapons made poorly compared to the humans’. Most of the men had steel swords, axes, and spears with good edges. Some Faletonians had dull steel, stone, or even wooden weapons. The priests and their divine magic would add further advantages to Victus’s men.
The priests began to filter in methodically with the soldiers onto the wall, casting spell after spell. Some spells strengthened the armor of the men within range while others increased their speed and/or strength. On occasion a wounded soldier would go down and then have his wounds closed by divine magic so that he could return immediately back to the battle. The enchantments began to greatly turn the battle in the favor of the humans. Men affected by the spells were enveloped by a very faint glow. It moved with them as they battled and they attacked with newfound fury that had their foes off guard. Several cowardly goblins even began to flee at the sight of the enchanted warriors. Many savage orcs though still took the lives of the enchanted men, extinguishing the glows of their enchantments with death.
Things were moving in clear favor of the advancing human army. Then the tide of the battle would change dramatically. Deep loud screams came forth from within the city, like the roar of fiends from the abyss. Both attackers and defender on the walls, who weren’t immediately engaged in battle, turned to look at the source of the cries. Massive creatures emerged from behind the first large buildings within the city. A wave of nine angry ogres rushed towards the areas where the siege towers touched down. The ten-foot tall warriors charged in, screaming ferociously. They were all clad in steel breastplates. Some had steel helmets on their round bald heads as well. Their huge pale green arms and most of their legs were bare; enormous muscles illustrated their colossal strength. They shouted again with rage and launched huge spears up into the oncoming swarm of humans atop the wall. Black beady eyes showed they were anxious for battle. Some of the large spears impaled two or even three soldiers at a time and carried them off the wall with the force of the throw. The ogres then took huge weapons off their backs, gigantic clubs and axes, and waited at the base of the wall, snarling and yelling. Their monstrous size made them unable to mount the walls, but they would wait to destroy the unfortunate humans that eventually found their way down.
Kingdom Come (Price of Power Book 1) Page 15