Bladeborn

by Clayton Schonberger

  Bladeborn slumped down to the ground. Kregert had been his only advocate in the First Realm for a time. They had been friends since the first days after Bladeborn arrived.

  “I am sorry, General,” Jonax said. “Before I left the First Realm I overheard that they planned a large memorial service for him, which even Deocarla was going to attend…”

  A Priest of Saint Morth called out from inside the tent, “General! If this man doesn’t get some of your help now, he won’t make it! There is only so much I can do!”

  After a moment Bladeborn stiffly arose. He nodded to Jonax, and then re-entered the tent, filled with wounded men.

  The Campaign wore on. At the fifth city, the battle lasted hours despite Bladeborn’s best efforts. Many were wounded as the larger garrison in the city was also more organized.

  After a drawn-out morning of gory fighting in muddy streets red with blood, Bladeborn and his Knights became aware that Durg had doubled the garrisons in every city with a population over four-thousand. The result was that they not only had to kill the vicious male Rhinolon townsfolk, but along with them, high numbers of organized Rhinolon soldiers.

  Bladeborn had taken little time to remember his friend, Brother Kregert. The man had pointed Bladeborn in the direction of the war on the Rhinolon more than any other. Bladeborn was surrounded by the dead or dying, be they human, Drommu, or Rhinolon, but to losing his friend was especially hard.

  After the bloody battle at the fifth city, Bladeborn, nearly exhausted, was helping treat the wounded men. Suddenly, Sir Drak Lomazi ran into the tent, “General Bladeborn, we must order a retreat! Scouts report the Rhinolon legion is two day’s march from here!”

  Bladeborn reacted quickly to the news, “Cease our mop-up of the city and burn it, then get the men out! Tell the salt crew to pack up and head toward the Spiral Mountains, now, and tell the men to pull up stakes! We march, double time, in one hour!”

  “The order to leave will be given, General!” Sir Lomazi confirmed.

  “These men cannot be moved until the last! I must stay here; Sir Lomazi, you oversee the retreat!”

  “Yes, General!” Sir Lomazi answered.

  Turning back to continue healing the bleeding soldier on the stretcher, Bladeborn wondered if his luck had run out. The Rhinolon legion couldn’t run faster than his men could, but they didn’t have wounded to care for—and they might be rested, whereas his men had spent the morning in a fierce struggle.

  His healing Essence was limited, and when he could do no more, there was little hope for the men with the worst injuries. “Nightslayer, I need you to make a guess… how far is the Rhinolon legion? Does Durg lead them?”

  ~~I am weakened now, also. I cannot answer~~

  Earlier in the day, Bladeborn had over-taxed Nightslayer’s power. Both he and the Sword of the Ancients would need time.

  Bladeborn also worried that no word had come from the west. At that point in the spring, Sir Rodon would have weeks ago met with success or defeat, and half of their campaign plan depended on him. Many miles separated Bladeborn from his close friend and sub-commander. He could not get over the feeling that something had gone wrong during Rodon’s attack.

  An hour later, the camp was emptied except for the Healing Priests of Saint Morth and the wounded. As the last of the injured were put on carts, Bladeborn called to those still at the campsite, “They search for us, my warriors, and we must flee! Hurry now!”

  Upon receiving an update on enemy troop movements Bladeborn said to two mounted Knights who had stayed behind, “Keep the men moving, back into the Spiral Mountains! The ancient magic that hides the Six Realms will cloak us from their trackers!”

  As Bladeborn looked down into the river valley below, he saw a massive cloud of dust raising into the air. He knew it was from the marching feet of the Rhinolon.

  They fled Northward through mountain passes as fast as they could. After two days spent running for their lives, a late-season snow fell in the mountains, covering their tracks. Reports said that the thousands of Rhinolon trailing them broke to the south, and then slowed. That night there was near white-out conditions, the cold north wind blowing down from the mountaintops. But few cared about the cold conditions—for the Army of the Sun and Dawn would be safe.

  Inside the command tent during the storm, Sir Drak Lomazi met with Bladeborn, “I am very concerned about Rodon’s safety. The return of the troops from the west is overdue and there is still no word. With Durg’s legion nearby, Rodon and his men could be captured.”

  “I worry for their safety, too, Drak,” Bladeborn agreed. “But Rodon knows these mountains. There are paths Rodon and the Army of the Sun could take to get here that only he knows of.”

  Sir Lomazi said, “I know how this may be a chance to cure the curse upon our people, but I almost wish that my nephew had not volunteered to lead the mission.”

  “I understand your concern, Sir Lomazi,” Bladeborn said in support. “Despite it all, I think his chances of making it back to us are good.”

  Sir Drak Lomazi, normally good-natured, grumbled quietly but didn’t argue any further.

  Bladeborn knew Sir Rodon was overdue. But he didn’t want to seem unsure in front of one of his key Knights and friends, “Lift a glass with me, then. We’ll drink to Rodon, and hope for his swift return. Tonight, I will say a prayer to Saint Morth for him, also. Sometimes, you need both wine and the favor of Heaven to bring luck.”

  While resting in the command tent later that night, Bladeborn gave some thought to how fortunate they were that the Rhinolon turned south after pursuing them so far, and he decided to ask Nightslayer about it.

  “Nightslayer?” Bladeborn thought to the Sword.

  ~~I have sufficiently re-charged to answer your question. Perhaps the storm is worse where they are. Perhaps our tracks led to a dead end that was a phantasm created by the defensive magic of the Six Realms. I do not know for certain, Swordsman. However, we both know the Rhinolon were only a few miles behind us yesterday before they turned south~~

  “Attacking that last small city was a strategic error on my part that nearly cost us everything.”

  ~~If they had fallen upon us during the battle at the city, it would have been the end of us. As it is, we have eluded them. When your friend returns, the next phase of the plan can begin~~

  They had burned several eastern Rhinolon cities, and by the following morning the storm had subsided. Their escape from the Rhinolon legion was cause for celebration, and that afternoon, a few of the scouts from the Army of the Moon began to find their way back from the Zelgron.

  The first to reach the camp had the look of death about them. The fields around the Zelgron had been set aflame as planned. However, these survivors from the Army of the Moon reported that many of Sir Rodon’s scouts were slaughtered right afterward by creatures of dark Wizardry.

  With Bladeborn at his side, Sir Lomazi asked several scouts if Sir Rodon was alive.

  One scout finally answered, “Rodon went back to try to save the others. I don’t know if he lived. It was all so confusing. Men were disappearing into the night, right before my eyes!”

  Finally, Rodon Thell arrived in camp, bedraggled and helping an injured man. After seeing to the wounded, the Knights were summoned to Bladeborn’s command tent for Rodon’s official report. With the terrible rumors that had been heard in the camp about the attack on the Zelgron, Bladeborn and the Knights needed to hear an accurate explanation.

  Looking grim, Rodon began, “The fields were burned to ashes, but the cost was high. We had no problems sowing their crops and trees with oils and setting them alight with flaming arrows. Then, we gathered in the hills overlooking the burning orchards of Winter Trees and fields of late-season grain, foolishly thinking that we had escaped… We were marching further into the hills, when dozens of giant bat-like Devils descended from the night sky… We scattered—but many were taken away into the darkness or torn to shreds before they could run…”

  Si
r Rodon closed his eyes, like he was trying to free his mind from the memory of the fight.

  Aghast, Bladeborn and the Knights listened as Sir Rodon continued.

  “There was nothing we could do against such sorcerous creatures!” Rodon cursed and cleared his throat. “Our arrows had little effect on them. Their skin was like armor. Even those who managed to cut them confirmed the legends, which say Devils have fire for blood!”

  The discussions that followed Rodon’s report concerned the safety of the Army.

  “What can we do against such odds?” one Knight from the Third Realm demanded. “The Rhinolon have direct support from the Lords of Hell, whereas we are made of flesh and bone.”

  Some of the Knights suggested that they bring the campaign to a halt. Many of the archers of the Moon were still missing, Rodon confessed he didn’t know how high the losses were. With nothing about the continuation of the campaign decided, General Bladeborn ordered that search parties be sent out to look for survivors and stragglers from the Army of the Moon, and then he dismissed his Knights.

  By morning the next day, the fallen snow had melted leaving the ground wet and muddy. Everyone was covered in the mud by late that week, after the last of the stragglers from the Army of the moon had been accounted for. Losses among Rodon’s archers had been staggering.

  “Nightslayer, why didn’t you warn us—why didn’t you warn ME?” Bladeborn asked the Sword of the Ancients.

  ~~The curse is now lifted, Bladeborn~~ Nightslayer replied. ~~Isn’t that what you wished for?~~

  A week after Rodon had come back from his battle with the Devilish bats, Bladeborn called a meeting of the Knights.

  “We have suffered a terrible blow, my brethren, but we must not give up hope.” Bladeborn tried to bolster his commanders and regain their support. “It is my feeling that the best course of action is to maintain our current plan, the pinnacle of almost three years of battle. However, I want each of you—my trusted commanders—to tell me if you think we should back down now. If a majority thinks we have met our limit, we will figure out a different plan. I know all of you have had confidence in me. I ask you to do so again, and carry on. Take into consideration that we will never again be given such a chance as we have now to strike at the Rhinolon’s heart.”

  Sir Rodon was the first to speak, “I am with you, General Bladeborn. Despite our losses, we have a chance to cripple the Rhinolon’s ability to make war here for years to come. I have been with you since the beginning, and I will stay to the conclusion.”

  Sir Drak Lomazi spoke next, “Bladeborn, you are my friend and a great leader. Yet, I cannot say that I wholeheartedly support this, to be honest. With what we now know about the Rhinolon’s direct connection to the Hells, our plan seems too bold.”

  Sir Lomazi looked about the room as if trying to judge the temperament of the other Knights. He went on, “Still, when I look about our table, I see the eagerness in the Knights. This is not the case with the rank and file soldiers, I can assure you. Yet the command staff seems decided. I could go either way, General Bladeborn. I know that there will be losses, but all of us here see things as you do. The final part of the campaign would be a masterstroke, and assure the safety of the Six Realms.”

  All the Knights expressed their reservations about the final part of the plan. Yet in the end, they supported Bladeborn’s vision, and the plan would go on.

  So, despite the losses at the Zelgron and nearly being caught unprepared at the last Rhinolon city that they attacked, they were going through with the end of their war—Bladeborn’s plan for a bold assault on Onager, Durg’s seat of power.

  After marching several days, with scouts reporting no signs of the Rhinolon legion, they camped in the mountains nearest to the Rhinolon capital, far from the lands where the Devils had attacked. The warriors of the Six Realms were restless and nervous—a hundred things could go wrong. There were a few desertions from the ranks, but after the long march and a night’s rest, Bladeborn found his troops were resolved to see the campaign to the end.

  The night before the attack, Sera Ayaba had met with a human spy. Ayaba reported on the latest known Rhinolon troop movements:

  “My connection within Durg the Despicable’s palace has sent word. The Chief Shaman of the Rhinolon, Argutal, demanded that Durg to pull the Northern Legion away from Onager to defend the Zelgron. Durg was furious, but he agreed.”

  “Why did they do that?” Rodon inquired.

  “To keep the spell of infertility up,” Sera Ayaba reported. “Argutal told Durg that if the sacred tower was damaged, the pact with the Lords of Hell would be broken… Although Durg claimed to know nothing of the magic that Argutal insisted was real, Durg begrudgingly sent half the legion to the Zelgron. The rest of them are still searching for us in the mountains.”

  “Your spy may never know how important his work is, Sera,” Bladeborn said. “It will make all the difference to us, today.”

  Rodon thanked Sera Ayaba for his good work, and said to Bladeborn, “Apparently Argutal and Durg don’t know we split our force and already attacked the Zelgron… Perhaps the curse has been lifted?”

  “We have no way to be sure,” Bladeborn said, although he knew Nightslayer had claimed it was so. “We still attack at dusk. Our assault on Durg’s capital city will go on.”

  Swiftly, brutally, the soldiers of the Sun, Moon, and Dawn moved through the slums of Onager’s outer-city, killing many Rhinolon before an alarm could be raised. The Drommu of the Dawn were instantly joined by their fellows, many of whom had been servants their entire lives. They slaughtered their former masters without hesitation, whereas most of the human servants were dumbfounded, unable to believe that their day of liberation could be at hand.

  The beginning of the assault was a complete surprise to the Rhinolon. However, the main battle would be within the great walls of the city proper—if they could get inside.

  When they neared the bridge across the channel from the out-city to the walls, a massive gong sounded. The Rhinolon had raised their alarm and now those in the out-city struggled to get inside before the fortified gate was closed. alarm was raised. As the last few Rhinolon slipped through the gate-doors in front of Bladeborn and the warriors of the Sun, Onager’s north entrance portcullis dropped.

  The warriors of the Sun brought a giant battering ram across the bridge, under cover of shield-carrying heavy footmen. But the men made little headway on the main north gate, which was well defended by its garrison. As arrows, spears, and rocks rained down on them, men plunged into the river, sinking to the bottom in their heavy armor. Bladeborn was beating the thick iron of the portcullis with Nightslayer to no effect.

  Bladeborn saw that the plan could fail and they might have to retreat, when the Sword’s voice sounded out in his head like a tolling bell, ~~You MUST get your men through that gate, Swordsman, and QUICKLY!~~

  Spurred on by Nightslayer’s words, Bladeborn shouted, “KEEP ON THE RAM, WARRIORS OF THE SUN! WE WILL SMASH THAT DOOR DOWN!” He vowed to himself that he would get the gate open, even if he had to do it by going inside the walls alone.

  Bladeborn grew even taller, covering up with his enormous tower shield so the hail of rocks and javelins from the Rhinolon in the gatehouse would not harm him. Eyes clouding into a gloss black color, he stepped between the bodies of his warriors who had fallen during the initial attack, shouting in a voice like a trumpet-blast, “HOLD FAST! WE ARE AT THE DECISIVE MOMENT, BRETHREN!”

  To get through the high, thick gates of the city, Bladeborn used the now-perfected power that allowed him to briefly shift his physical form out of phase, into another dimension. He had come to wonder at the power bestowed on him by the gods but there was no questioning it; he would use every means possible to rise in victory over the Rhinolon and Durg.

  Using the dimensional shift, he passed—through—the portcullis, the thick gate-door, and the Rhinolon defenders on the inside. Bladeborn now stood at the center of the square beyond the gate-tow
er.

  The gate was buttressed by two giant ogres and dozens of Rhinolon, each of whom had their shoulders against it. Sturdy timbers had just been hammered and wedged into place by the Rhinolon, also strengthening their north gate. Other Rhinolon were coming into the courtyard beyond the gate with more of the giant timbers, even now.

  ~~The ogres and those timbers have kept your ram from smashing the gate, Bladeborn! Unless they are removed, the siege will go on!~~

  Angry and frustrated, Bladeborn said to the Sword, “I know what I must do, Nightslayer!”

  Scores of the spike-haired Rhinolon warriors and a Rhinolon Captain braced the gate as the ram pounded it. They turned when Bladeborn re-materialized in the middle of them.

  The Rhinolon Captain turned screamed orders at his soldiers, “SNORT! THAT GIANT HUMAN IS THE ACCURSED ONE! KILL HIM AT ALL COSTS!”

  Bladeborn called upon Nightslayer’s electrifying bolts of energy, killing the captain and many others instantly. The sound of it was deafening, and a few of the Rhinolon fled, as soon as they heard it. At least a two dozen of the remaining defenders immediately inside the gate were slain by Bladeborn’s Essence-based psychic power, including the two ogres. Seeing their allies drop dead, many more of the Rhinolon began to flee. Those that were bringing the extra timbers to brace the gate dropped them and ran for their lives.

  The Rhinolon were panicking, shouting, “It is the Accursed One!”

  Bladeborn needed all his strength and bulk to remove the bodies of the dead ogres and the timbers bracing the gate.

  Another Rhinolon Captain in dark armor on the top of the wall shouted, “Archers, bring that human down! He is only one man against our might!”

  Bladeborn said to the Sword, “Give that Captain a very powerful electric bolt, Nightslayer!”

  There was a thunderous *CRACK* and loud report as the Captain died.