13: The Fall of Claw Island

Only a few days later, Caoilfhionn was down at the Lion's Arch docks with Sieran and Annhilda, all crowned with the title of Magister, to bring an urgent message to Lion's Arch's forward line of defense against Orr, Claw Island. They were not the only ones there. "Damara? Rhyoll?"

The Human and the Charr walked up, accompanied by a large, square, grey-haired Norn. "And this is our Vigil teammate, Warmaster Forgal Kernsson. What brings you here?" Damara asked, laughing, a hawk on her shoulder. "By Dwayna, you're dressed more like a prince than ever. Your sister spoils you."

He was wearing Blathnat's finest creation, a royal purple contrast between symmetry and asymmetry in silk and velvet, a long coat and stylish tunic in one, arrayed with giant sky-blue flower petals, silver piping, and her finest embroidery work yet. If it hadn't been enchanted to withstand anything short of dragon-fire – at least, she said it was – he would have been afraid to wear it outside of the Grove, but since it was so reportedly sturdy, he was going to wear it literally everywhere. "She certainly does. Anyway, we're here with grave news for the commander of Claw Island."

"We learned that there will be a major attack on Lion's Arch very soon!" Sieran said. "I'm Sieran, Priory Magister, by the way. Nice to meet you! Gixx sent us. For real, this time."

Rhyoll frowned. "You didn't crib our work, did you? That's what we're here for!"

There was a loud sigh to the side, and they turned to see Phiadi standing there with an unusually-mild-looking Charr. "If we're all here to report the same thing, why am I even needed?"

"Oh, come on, Phiadi," coaxed the Charr. "These are your friends, aren't they? Let's all go together. The fact that all three of our Orders learned the same thing only triply confirms the threat. Hello! I'm Tybalt Leftpaw."

"If there's trouble, Hope's Legacy is – unintentionally – united to stop it," Annhilda said. "Are we bound for the same ship, then?"

The voyage to Claw Island was lovely – the sea breeze whipping through Caoilfhionn's leaves, watching the mountainous jungle shore glide by, the imposing fortress growing larger straight ahead, the bright sun shining in the vivid blue sky overhead, dipping lower to the west. The gulls wailed as they chased the ship, and Caoilfhionn smiled to see them, so small and free. It was hard to believe Orr could attack such a lovely land – as if beauty were its own protection, which he knew was silly, and yet.

And looking up at the massive fortress as they docked, it was hard to believe anything could overcome such solid stones. Especially fragile undead. Sieran had similar thoughts. "It's even bigger than I'd been told. So many soldiers! So much defiance! How can it possibly fall?"

"They built this fortress to last," said the Norn, Forgal. "Only a complete, full-bore invasion could break those walls."

"Which is exactly what they're planning," the Charr Tybalt said. "They wouldn't attack if Zhaitan didn't think they could do it. And the sooner we let the garrison know, the sooner they can prepare for it."

And as they walked up from the docks, they saw Lionguards shifting restlessly, muttering to each other as the shadows lengthened in the growing twilight. "I smell something odd. Do you smell it? I don't like this."

"Is that Trahearne, up there, talking to Commander Talon? What do you think he wants?" Caoilfhionn brightened. It had been months since he'd seen him…

"Trahearne, the necromancer? Comes through here every few months on his way to Orr? That guy creeps me out."

A surge of heat flooded Caoilfhionn's body as he stiffened in offense, spinning to confront the Human man who had spoken last. "I beg your pardon? Have you ever talked to him?"

The soldier took a step back at his vehemence. "No, why would I-"

"You assume too much," Caoilfhionn said coldly, and hurried after his friends at Sieran's urgent whispered call. So such prejudice was not limited to the Sylvari! How infuriating.

But it was Trahearne, and that that lifted his spirit to the heights of happiness, just to be in his presence again. "Trahearne!" He trotted to catch up and even pass the others, eager to see his friend – his love. Trahearne saw him coming, and moved away from the Charr Lionguard commander to speak to them. "Everyone, this is my dear friend Trahearne. Trahearne, I know you know Sieran, and these other people are my guild and their friends!"

"I know their friends," Trahearne said with a smile, an unusually wide smile for him. "Hello, Sieran, Tybalt, Forgal. But we can catch up in a minute. What brings you here?"

"We have all independently discovered that the Risen are about to attack Lion's Arch," Caoilfhionn said. "You study Orr, is that why you are here too?"

"Yes, I've researched the situation extensively. Thank the Mother Tree you're all here as well. Claw Island is in great danger. We must convince Watch Commander Talon of that, however." Trahearne gestured them over to the Charr. "Commander Talon, my friends bring the same tidings. An attack is imminent."

"Eh, what's that?" the Charr growled brusquely. "That's still extremely unlikely. We've seen no sign of an impending attack. If there was to be one, we'd know of it."

"But we have seen signs," Annhilda said grimly. "One of Zhaitan's minions breached the city. We destroyed it, but the creature was likely scouting for a much bigger force."

"And we found one as well," Forgal said. "Alone, but powerful – definitely a scout."

"The Order of Whispers concurs," Phiadi said. "So at least three strong Risen were inside the city."

"A fleet of Dead Ships has launched from the Straits of Devastation," Trahearne said. "The Risen sail beneath a cloak of stealth."

Commander Talon shrugged. "Whatever you've seen, it can't be a real threat. Claw Island can withstand any assault! There's nothing to fear."

Phiadi stamped her foot. "You're a fool if you ignore four warnings from all directions."

The Charr laughed. "Inspect our defenses. Look at our munitions. We're ready for anything, there's no need to worry."

"How many time as the fortress been attacked, if I may ask?" Caoilfhionn asked anxiously.

"Countless. We've had six major attacks under my watch, and that's only in the last four years."

"But don't you believe Trahearne when he says this time will be different?"

"I respect Trahearne a great deal, but he's a scholar, not a soldier! I don't tell him his business, and he doesn't tell me mine."

"True," Trahearne said. "If you don't mind, I would rather like to inspect your defenses. It's been a while since I toured the fortress."

"Go ahead," Talon said with a laugh. "It'll help you relax, I'm sure."

"Come," Trahearne said to them, "let us see to the cannons on the wall. Magister Sieran! It has been a long time. How's the Priory treating you?"

"Firstborn, it is an honour to see you again!" Sieran gushed as they walked. "I haven't seen you since you helped the Order with that undead gorilla!"

Trahearne hid a dry smile. "The drowned Orrian one you let out of the cage? Yes, that was a menace. Did everything end up well?"

Sieran covered her face with her hands. "I misread the sign language! It was saying 'kill' and I thought it was saying 'I feel better'. Yes, everything was resolved. With that. At least."

"And you, Caoilfhionn?"

"It's been wonderful," Caoilfhionn said, smiling fit to burst. "I've learned so much, seen so much, traveled so much. My guild, Hope's Legacy, has been so exciting. I want to tell you everything but we'd be here a week!"

"A week we do not have right now, I think," Trahearne said, looking to the clouding sky. Caoilfhionn wondered what he saw. But he turned to the other ones Caoilfhionn did not know well. "Tybalt, Forgal, good to see you as well. Congratulations on reaching field agent, Tybalt!"

"Thank you, my friend!" Tybalt chuckled. "You should get out from under your scrolls and scribbles and join us more often! You're starting to look all wilted."

"We need your common sense, lad," Forgan said. "I'm glad you're here." Caoilfhionn blinked. It was sometimes difficult to remember that the very oldest Sylvari was still practically a 'child' compared to the elderly of the other races.

"I will do my best," Trahearne said, as they passed another nervously muttering group of Lionguards. "There's a chill in the air. It is beginning."

Caoilfhionn had felt uneasy since setting foot on the island, but he had thought it was simply because of the news he brought. Now he realized that all along, it had been the anticipation of the Darkness coming for them, his sensitivity to the unseen piquing. He shivered, and not because the sun was setting. Trahearne was right.

"I don't feel anything," Rhyoll said. "I'll take your word for it."

But the Lionguard officers smiled and patted their cannons and trebuchets proudly. Trahearne turned away from them with a furrowed brow. "They don't understand. This won't be a sortie. It'll be a massacre."

"Will it?" Caoilfhionn said. He still hadn't thought it through, hadn't painted the pictures in his mind that Trahearne had so clearly seen. He'd thought if only they could warn the Lionguard, everything would work out. He had not envisioned the death that would come even with victory, and it sounded like Trahearne did not think victory possible. Which meant, quite possibly, that everyone here would die.

At least he'd die fighting, like a true Valiant.

"Why won't he listen to us?" Damara complained.

"Talon is an excellent commander, but he is set in his ways," Trahearne said. "He doesn't want to think something might change. …He'll come around. I hope."

"What is it that you saw?" Annhilda asked.

"My research implies there's a massive migration of Risen coming northwards – sailing their Dead Ships on an unnatural wind. I don't know what it means. The clouds above them are too dark and impenetrable to see the whole of the threat."

"We'll do everything we can to protect Lion's Arch," Caoilfhionn said, desperately trying to hold on to his optimism.

"Hmm." Trahearne withdrew into himself and said nothing more until they came to the Lionguard deployed to patrol the southeastern beaches.

Which came under attack the moment they arrived. Twenty or so zombies, rushing out of the sea, gibbering as they flailed at the Lionguard. To their credit, the soldiers responded swiftly and smoothly, taking well-rehearsed formations to defend their position. With Hope's Legacy and the others joining in, they were cleared out quickly. Caoilfhionn found Trahearne fighting next to him, sometimes, when he wasn't dashing in to lay down lines of fire and lightning. It was heartening to do so again.

The Deputy in charge of the squad, Mira, pulled off her helmet to wipe her brow. "I thought you said the attack would be significant, Trahearne?"

"It was a feint," Trahearne said, sounding strained. Perhaps torn between desperately hoping he was wrong and Talon and Mira and Brakk were right, and the burden of having to convince them otherwise anyway. Better to be the sentinal who cried wolf than the one who did not. "They're testing your defenses. More will come, and soon."

"Makes sense," Mira said, and put her helmet back on. "Report to Watch Commander Talon, and let him know our men are ready."

As they jogged back up the beach to the fortress, Trahearne stayed next to Caoilfhionn. "I may have studied Orrian creatures for twenty-five years, but I rarely engage in combat with them. It's terrifying."

"I can agree to that," Caoilfhionn said. "But fighting with you makes it less frightening for me."

Trahearne paused. "And I with you. Thank you. …Do you think the commander will listen to us now?"

"I don't know," Caoilfhionn said grimly. "But I'll fight anyway."

The commander was pompous when they arrived before him. "A paltry attack. It barely ruffled our feathers. Is that all they brought?"

"There will be more," Trahearne said, his voice utterly certain now. "Much, much more. Keep watching the sea."

Talon scowled. "You're a scholar, not a general, Firstborn. Why should we trust you?"

The sun slipped behind the horizon. Night had fallen. And with it, all nightmare broke loose.

Undead came hurtling out of the clouded sky, marching out of the sea, besetting the island fiercely from the south and west. The proud defenses apparently meant nothing when a reanimated corpse the size of a bull – the size of a tree – could land upon the walls and immediately set upon the trebuchets there. Annhilda took charge of their little group, helping to clear the wall, retake the cannons, and sink the ship launching the undead.

But where one ship sank, ten more sprang up, looming out of the darkening mist with bones rattling. And with the commander down, roaring defiance to his last breath, Deputy Mira took command, organizing a last defense in the courtyard while Hope's Legacy rushed to light the warning beacons. "Should've done it when the main attack first started," Phiadi grumbled, summoning new minions from the rotting corpses piled about them. "Stubborn proud old twit."

And as the beacon blazed out from the great tower, there was a roar that rent the dark clouds, bat-like wings cleaving the air, and a dragon landed on the southern plateau, knocking down the wall there like it was made of toy blocks. Sieran screamed, Tybalt followed her, and Forgal yelled: "By the Spirits! Quick, attack it!"

Deputy Mira was also screaming, fallen to the ground in pain, clutching her face. She had been struck by the poison breathed by the dragon. Their party and the few remaining Lionguard surrounded her, as Trahearne knelt beside her, soothing her injuries, and then picking up her unconscious body. The dragon looked at them and roared again.

"We have to get out of here," Annhilda said. "We're not ready to fight this beast yet. Fall back!"

They made it through the gate, and few undead followed them yet, milling about by the dragon. Sieran wrung her hands. "The dragon's servants will never let our ships sail. If they surround the docks, they'll slaughter us – and Zhaitan's forces will grow."

"Our soldiers are too injured to fight," Annhilda said, sweeping her arm over them. "They can barely walk. We can't form a defense and still get them all aboard."

"Someone needs to hold them off and give everyone else time to escape," Sieran said.

"A heroic but nearly impossible task, against great odds and an unrelenting enemy," Forgal said. "This, my friends, is a death worthy of legend."

"Forgal!" Damara cried. "You can't hold them off alone!"

"Not alone," Tybalt said. "I haven't always lived bravely, but I think… I think I'd like to die that way."

"Hmph! Don't think I'll miss you!" Phiadi said, but her voice was wavering as she turned away with folded arms.

Tybalt chuckled. "Nobody believed I had courage. Not even me. But you came along, and you trusted me. Trust me now. I can do this."

"I will as well," Sieran said, almost all the laughter gone from her voice. "Gixx always said I was an exceptional troublemaker."

"Sieran!" Caoilfhionn cried. "Even with the three of you, you can't win! I- I'll go with you!"

"You can't, Caoilfhionn," Sieran said. "Your guild needs you. The world needs you – and your guild. And I need to do this."

"But-"

"You don't understand, Caoilfhionn," Sieran said. "When you and I met, I didn't think about anything but myself. I wanted fun, excitement, risks… I didn't really care about others. In my short life, you've taught me the most important lesson. Friends will go through anything for each other. That's why I have to do this." She paused. "I was hoping to fall in love at least once before I died… like you did. I was a little jealous of you, to tell the truth. But I know you'll make whoever it is very happy."

"Sieran… I-" How was he to respond to that?

She smiled brightly. "I've always wondered what it would be like to go to the Mists. It'll be a new adventure…"

"Sieran! …Thank you. For everything."

"Fight gloriously," Annhilda said to her. "You've grown so much, Sieran. Raven is surely with you in this hour."

"Thanks!" She smiled and waved. "Ready, everyone?"

"This is stupid," Rhyoll said, and stepped forward to Forgall. "Here. My turrets. You'll need them more than me. Give 'em hell, Warmaster." Forgal smiled and nodded.

"Let me get that door," Tybalt said, stepping inside with Sieran and Forgal, and going to the lever that closed the gate. "So long, you lot!"

"Tell our tale at the hearth fires, where the skaalds sing of heroes!" Forgal called, just as the undead tide swarmed towards them and the gate slammed shut. But still they could hear him roaring. "I am Forgal, son of Kern. My father was the last Dolyak Shaman! I am a Warmaster of the Vigil! You will never make me kneel!"

Caoilfhionn's chest ached. His entire body ached, and his eyes were blinded by tears even as he ran in Annhilda's wake. Undead rose up before him and he flung himself through them, scorching them to ash in blind fury.

The dragon would pay dearly for this.