by J H G Foss
It wasn’t a good start. Well, you know, it was my company right enough, but back in those days the tactical stuff sort of rotated between Roztov and a few of the others and for what was going on in this valley Roztov was the raid leader. He was pretty much in charge of everything at the sharp end, the combat end. Ye had other leaders for supplies, healing, that sort of thing. There was a couple of hundred people in the company back then, I couldn’t manage it all by meself, and well, Floran will tell you, I tended to prefer to lead from the front, be in the thick of battle, showing those that followed me I didn’t mind getting my sword bloody. So Roz was in charge of those manning the barricade and all the tactical stuff.
Well, this day I’m talking about was the third day camped at the tunnel entrance. We’d already been attacked on the first and second days, but nothing too big, just testing our defences. We all knew a big attack would come soon and none of us had slept a wink.
In the morning I saw Roztov had already checked the barricade and was out about a hundred yards looking over the land before us, stood there, biting his fingernails and spitting them out into the swamp. He was a much younger fellow back then, but experienced, he’d already seen plenty of battles and knew what he was doing and what he was looking for.
I daresay he was thinking about what had led us to this place. The druids, you see, are like us dwarves that serve Aerekrig; they want to see good triumph over evil. And great evil lurked here, right enough, although lurk probably wasn't the right word. Parading around in full view, more like. Evil gripped the entire region and what dared only to skulk around the forests of Angor and hide in the valleys of the Spidertooths was free to wander in these lands.
We’d already spoken about it the day before. Roztov had said, “this is evil, Broddor, but very distant evil. Mother Etruna would approve of our actions here, but what about the Council back in the Great Forest? To say that they don’t get out much is a gross understatement. Will they care about a war being fought in a land so far away that it’s not shown on any map east of Lodz?”
“I doubt it lad,” I replied. “But that’s not what led us here. We came for adventure and glory, but now we stay because we desire to see good triumph in the world overrun with wickedness and wrong-doing.”
I was just stood there thinking over that conversation when Roz waved his hand and called back to us, “Incoming!” I looked out past him and could just make out our ranger Shile on the brow of the hill. The elf held up his hand and splayed out his fingers. Fifty. Then a fist. Whiteskins.
That’s what we called them anyway, Floran can tell you more about them, but for now imagine a race of people about eight or nine feet tall, with wet rubbery skin as white as milk, tangled black manes and bestial faces. A bit like a nog if you shaved him.
Well, the lads at the barricade knew what to do. Like clockwork, the forward combat element of the Company leapt into life. You had Mantos, decked head to foot in his famous red armour giving me a wink as he leapt over the barricade, closely followed by the other warriors and paladins, like Edehhag and Belovar the huge Vegan barbarians.
I followed after then, I was meant to be back at the command centre, but you know, as I said, if there was going to be a battle I wanted to be there.
Roz returned to the barricade and stepped up to the parapet, signalling to the other healers. Druids like himself were by his side, Meggelaine and Festos. And our clerics, dressed in platemail, hammers in hand were there, Illandria and Leedory.
We had all fought side by side since back in the Lead Hills. Some of them had been in the Company since back in Styke. Well, let me tell you, those huge savage white skinned warriors, in single combat they could easily defeat any of our fighters, but they were too dumb to realise the help being provided from the healers behind them. They had all their magic hocus-pocus-whatever’s going on, aiding our guys in every fight. Don’t ask me to explain it, but the druids and clerics all together could make us stronger and our wounds less serious and when a fighter in the Company was badly injured he could limp back to the healers and be back in battle in as little time as an hour.
Well, we met the initial whiteskin charge outside the barricade then fell back, the heavily armoured warriors of the Company holding the centre of the line while the lighter troops with long spears moved around the flanks.
When the enemy seemed suitably pinned down Roztov, who was now up on the barricade co-ordinating everything cried out.
“Now! Give them everything!”
This was the signal to the others on the barricade to attack. Enttland wizards lead by Ellerina and our friend Floran the Hyadnian. Luxorian mages lead by Gothor. Assynt, the only Borland enchanter we had with us had already been involved in battle, his magic causing confusion in the enemy ranks as one whiteskin would suddenly turn on another for no reason.
Well they all stepped up to the parapet and began to use their magic. Picture it if you can, great gouts of flame rocking the enemy ranks. Ice lances tearing though them, then exploding, sending even their big bodies flying. The swamp water being flung everywhere by the blasts, covering everyone in mud.
Those that lived turned to flee, but it was too late for them. Me and my fellows at the front line had nothing more to do, as the flankers hurled their spears and the archers sent volleys of arrows over their heads. None survived that I saw, their bodies lay all over the battlefield, littering the area before the barricade. Blood and singed body parts were strewn everywhere. Ghastly enough to see someone slain by sword or axe, but fireballs blow people to bits. Seeing it was all over, I trotted up to the line and called up to Roz.
“We are all fine down here!”
Roz nodded. I suppose he could only take me word for that though as my beard was matted with dirt and blood and my armour would have been just as bad. Right enough, the unmistakable smell of the aftermath of a battle wafted up to my nostrils. Blood, sweat, fear and the sweet terrible smell of roasting flesh. You know, when I smelt it, my traitorous stomach grumbled with hunger. I couldn’t remember my last hot meal and cooked flesh… well, ye get the idea.
We dragged the bodies over to a charnel pit that had been dug a hundred or so yards away. This was not the first bone harvest we had made since our arrival, but it was the biggest. The druids have a way of moving the earth with their magic and whenever they had time they would bury the dead this way.
We didn’t have time this day though as we were hit again and again by wave after wave of whiteskins. It didn’t end until night time. Well, if you see what I mean, it was always dark there, but in any normal land it would have been about midnight. We were exhausted. The evil that had befallen this land seemed to be drawn to us like a moth to a flame. We were hated and the inhabitants wanted us dead.
There had been a lull for a while, and just as we were thinking of standing our guys at the front line down, we heard the cry of “Incoming!” again.
Shile came trotting back to the line from his outpost on an out of sight hill behind the nearby woods. He held up his hand. Roztov squinted to see. Fingers, then a flat palm. He then called down to the others on the ground. “Dark assassins, maybe two dozen.”
Well, let me tell you, these things, they were undead, but wore black hooded cloaks. They were like nothing I’d seen before, or since, come to that. I don’t know who out of us that had first called them dark assassins, but it well described their sinister appearance. No one had any real idea what these creatures where. Some sort of ghost or ghast was the best guess of the clerics, but who knew?
They could kill the boldest warrior in seconds with their deadly touch. Dressed in long dark robes with deep hoods it was like they were made from nothingness. Hard to fight, but we had discovered that they could be killed and this wasn’t going to be the first time we had fought them.
Two dozen was a lot, they were powerful foes and we were weary, but what else could we do? I watched from my place on the parapet as Roztov coordinated the defence.
Taciturn as ever, Manto
s nodded to the druid as he led the fighters into the front line positions. I gave Roz a pat on the back as I went forward, but as Edehhag and a couple of warriors were about to go past Roz signalled them to wait.
The battle began again as it had before. The heavily armoured warriors and paladins holding off the charge while the druids, clerics and Vegan shaman provided support from behind.
But the dark assassins were proving too powerful! I could see that Mantos was being, well not defeated, but harried by two foes at once and two other warriors had fallen. Three undead creatures surged forward and quickly scaled the parapet. Meggelaine let out a yelp as one reached for her. Illandria valiantly swung her hammer at it, but a cleric was no match for one of these terribly powerful undead in combat and she was quickly knocked aside.
“Edehhag! Fill that gap!” Roztov cried.
Without a word the huge Luxorian barbarian leapt forward with his squad close behind him. Roz had to wrench his eyes away from the troubles on the battlement and look across at the main battle. I was busy rallying the warriors there, but without more help we would all surely perish. I knew that Roztov knew that the assassins had more intelligence than the whiteskins and that they would be drawn to the magic of the wizards if they were called in to support the front line too soon. But it was now or never, everything could be lost in a moment of indecision.
“Now Ellerina, for all love!” he yelled.
Needing no encouragement at all to help her friends on the field Ellerina held her staff aloft and called down the first of her ice comet spells. It landed in the middle of the enemies ranks with an almighty crash, showering shards of broken ice everywhere. More robed figures stepped up and I saw fireballs fly over my head into the assassins, unleashed by our friend Floran and the other wizards.
But these dastardly creatures were so powerful! Six had fallen already, but there were still more left standing. And they were so quick that some could slip past the front lines and get in amongst the weaker supporting troops.
It was utter chaos. Smoke was everywhere from the spell casting, lighting was flashing and sheets of flame were lighting up everything every few seconds blinding me, and everyone else. I was beginning to wonder if Roztov hadn't just made a decision which had cost us our lives when suddenly a dark robed figure lunged at him through the smoke.
Again and again it hit him, knocking aside his staff like a twig. I rushed to try save him, but a one of the assassins caught my arm and I fell to the icy, muddy ground. I was trampled underfoot and for a while I could not get up again. By the time I got to him poor Roz was already flat on his back.
I saw that some of the healers had him though, and he was safe, so I went back to the battle.
The assassins seemed to drift away shortly after that though and I sent Shile to follow and keep an eye on them.
When he returned I went into the tunnel to where the wounded were and watched as Roz was slowly brought back to consciousness. He sat up and rubbed his eyes. “I smell lilies...” he murmured.
“Welcome back to the land of the living,”I heard Illandria say as she released his hand.
Seeing he was awake, I went over to him and signalled Shile to come over.
“No time for lazing around now Roztov!” I said. “While we recovered from the battle I sent Shile right out into the marsh much deeper than before. He thinks he may have seen the source, or at least a source of the evil in this valley. That's right Shile?'
Shile only nodded. You rarely heard him speak. As we talked we walked out of the tunnel and up onto the barricade.
“Shile thinks that this... thing... can be tricked away from its guards and attacked.”
“But...” said Roztov, slowly gathering his wits. “Out there in the open we would be sitting ducks.”
“Yes, but Shile thinks that he could provoke it into attacking us here. Then we could fight it on ground of our own choosing. Tactics, right?”
“That's right Shile?” asked Roztov.
The elf shrugged and nodded, then standing he adjusted his bow over his shoulder and looked out across the plain, his incredible elven vision pinpointing something miles beyond normal human sight.
“We will have to be quick. It is on the move.”
Roztov grunted and kneaded his back as he stood up. He seemed to thinking quickly. I could see he was formulating a plan, he’s better at that sort of thing than me and I trusted his judgement so I waited until he said, “go Shile, we will be ready when you get back. Goddess speed and good luck.”
The elf nodded and took off at a very quick jog. We watched as he disappeared into the tree line in the distance.
Between us we gathered the entire company into a battle line. With our gang of druids and clerics around, the warriors could be brought back to battle readiness very quickly. No one could do anything about the fact that we hadn’t slept in days though.
Quickly we were ready, everyone at the barricade, waiting for the next attack. Time passed and we began to wonder if Shile hadn’t met with a bitter end. As we considered the wisdom of sending out a third scout we saw a slight figure burst through the trees.
“He arrives!” gasped someone behind me.
Shile ran towards the barricade and paused at about the halfway mark and turning, fired three arrows into the tree line in quick succession.
I wondered what he had been firing at as the elf ran the rest of the way to join us. Just then I noticed Mantos, stood at my side, rocking back and forth on his heels, like an athlete waiting for the starters whistle, but then our attention turned again to the forest as a distant crash emanated from within.
The woods began to move and rustle and with a sudden crash a huge black form burst from the trees. Bigger than a troll, this huge creature stood at least twenty feet tall, can you imagine? Its robe was like the sail of a ship! They billowed around it as it knocked the withered marsh trees over like sticks. It wielded a sword near twelve feet long, the length of two men it was! Silver steel, encrusted with blood, it seemed to howl as the thing whirled it around. It came towards us quickly and we all knew terror, although I'm proud to say none of us fled.
Without waiting to be told, or to see if anyone was following him, Mantos charged towards the creature to meet it head on. Once again Roztov nodded to his fellow healers to be ready to receive the wounded. As he stepped up to the parapet I heard Meggelaine mutter to him.
“Doomshade...”
“What?” he answered as he looked down at her.
“Doomshade, I have heard of this creature. They talk about it in whispers in the taverns of Wardernton. It is one of the five terrors of the Moon Marshes.”
Before he could reply, the battle had started, Mantos meeting the huge ghast (or whatever it was) in a terrible clash of metal. Fear was trembling in each of us, but we all knew what we had to do. Mantos was taking a terrible beating from the dread monster, but I could see the healers were channelling all their magic to keep him on his feet, blessings and prayers to their various gods. He seemed to almost pulse with the energy from it, glowing with yellow light which contrasted against the weak moonlight of these lands, the only spot of radiance in the monochromatic gloom.
They healers all chanted as one, a line of magical prayers behind the red-clad warrior to keep him strong enough to fight this terrible being.
Not far behind him, the other fighters arrived at full charge, to harry the creature at its flanks. Belovar and Edehhag literally hurling themselves at the huge ghast, mindless of the danger they were in. I was right behind them.
I was in the thick of it and left the tactics to Roz. He told me later that as he chanted along with the other healers, their magical powers all aiding the fight, he was mindful of everything that could go wrong. Mantos was being warded in wave after wave of magic. If one of the spells was to fail then he would be dead in seconds. Using his shield as best he could to fend off the blows and even getting in a blow of his own occasionally, he was valiantly holding off the terrible horror. If he
went down nothing would hold it back. Gradually Roztov could feel himself weakening. The others were exhausted as well. Using so much magic power at once could knock you out cold on your feet, or so they tell me. But still they kept chanting, it was all or nothing now.
When he judged the time was right, just as the healers were beginning to tire and falter he cried out. “Now! Hit it with everything!”
Ellerina and her wizards again leapt forward to unleash ruin on the huge ghast. Spell after spell landed on it, fire and ice, often knocking the fighters at the front to their feet in the blast. I am short, as you can see, but even I ducked as all that magic flew overhead. Wherever it landed, lumps of frozen mud and ice flew up. Red hot coals from the exploding fireballs rained down on our upheld shields.
The wizards and mages were giving everything they had. I glanced behind me as I huddled under my shield. The healers were spent though. I could see Roz was down on one knee, he had almost nothing left to give. Meggelaine, now at eye level with Roz, shot him a glance, but she kept right on chanting, the sturdy little fressle never missing a beat.
The wizards continued to throw everything at Doomshade, and when the storm of fire and ice was over I looked back to the front and saw that the thing still stood! But as I watched, it teetered and then slowly fell to its knees. A cry of joy went up from the ranks and I lead the charge of the warriors and barbarians who were still on their feet to finish the monster off.
It was trying to rise, but was struck down again by our combined attacks. Letting out one last dreadful groan it swung its sword for a final time and then disappeared from view under our blows. It seemed to fade and drift away until all that was left was the sword and an empty cape.
A great cry of victory went up, we had done it! We could hardly believe we had defeated such a dread and powerful foe. Not only that, but by defeating him we had brought peace back to this valley. One valley out of hundreds I admit, but those other valleys are other stories.