Eastern Holy Kingdom, Shurana Coastal Port City
Olese looked over the edge of the ship, he was a young man 16 summers old and he was on his first ever merchant voyage. Olese brushed his head of long brown hair aside as the ship caught the wind and sailed out of port. He gazed at the endless expanse of water before him and felt a swelling of pride within his chest. This was his nation's dominion not even the Slaine Theocracy can match the Holy Kingdom's fleet, all of this belonged to his home nation.
"First voyage laddie?" a voice said from his right.
Olese turned to see an aged old man, his head was bald and he had a great grey beard. His skin was heavily tanned from a life on ships exposed to the glaring sun. Though these waters and winds were cold the sun beat down on those who sailed all the same.
"Yeah, first ever voyage, I hope to earn some coin for my folks." Olese replied.
"Ah good on you then. I'm Roner, yourself?" Roner asked.
"Olese." Olese replied.
"You thinking of signing up as a merchant marine?" Roner asked.
"That's why I'm here, I wanted to see if life on the sea suits me." Olese replied.
"It's an honest life as any and don't let anyone tell you you're doing less than anyone on the wall. This shipment of food will be enough to feed our troops at the Ice Gate Valley for an entire quadrum" Roner said as he turned to face the sea.
"An entire quadrum?" Olese asked, surprised.
"Aye an entire quadrum, we might not hold pikes but we feed the hands that hold those pikes. The merchant marine has never lost a ship nor missed a shipment. We take great pride in that fact." Roner replied as he turned around and leaned against the railing of the ship.
"If you sign up you get to skip the wall too. You won't win any titles here but you won't end up as beastman food." Roner added with a wink.
"Haha you're really selling this aren't you?" Olese replied with a laugh.
"The merchant marine always needs more able hands, ships are always undermanned. We are never the priority for receiving conscripts. Most of the conscripts we get are leftovers from the wall, those deemed too weak and infirm to serve as soldiers." Roner grumbled.
"But think of all the titles I could win, Lord Olese. Sounds good doesn't it?" Olese replied with a laugh.
At those words Roner let out a boisterous laugh as he clutched his belly.
"You'll fit right in here laddie, although you don't look that good with bow judging by those stalks of wheat you call arms." Roner said.
"Hey, you never know. No one thought would Baraja become a noble either." Olese said.
"Well heard he is a truly exceptional archer. I heard he can shoot the flea off a dog at a hundred paces." Roner replied.
"Well then I'm glad he's on our side, hopefully this war ends fast." Olese said with a sigh as they started to enter open water.
"Don't worry laddie, the 41 are dead and gone. The six rules now. That old religion is full of superstitious nonsense, you would not believe some of their old legends." Roner said.
"You know their legends? Isn't that heresy?" Olese asked uncomfortably.
"Nah, just hear the rubbish they spout and you will understand. You know they say the first high elf was an elf known as Hou Yi and he shot down nine suns with his bow?" Roner replied with a snort.
"Shot down the sun? Those idiots actually believe that?" Olese replied with a laugh.
"Yeah, can you believe those superstitious idiots? It's no wonder the six took over so easily." Roner replied with another snort.
"Well it's a good thing maybe the 41's followers plan will be to wait for the 41 to drop a sun on our armies." Olese said with a laugh.
"Maybe, who knows what those idiots think?" Roner replied.
Olese let out one last chuckle as he gazed over the waves, it was then did he notice there was something strange swimming towards his ship in a perfect line. He looked to the side and saw there was one for each of the ships. Each swimming straight at the centre of the hull.
"Hey Roner, what's that?" Olese asked, pointing to the strange fish swimming towards the ships.
"No idea… some kind of fish?" Roner replied confused.
The pair watched as one of the fishes touched the ship at the head of the convey. Then there was a shock wave and a blast of water was thrown up into the air. The ship that was struck exploded with a fireball emerging from the centre of the hull. The mast collapsed as the ship split in two and burned.
Olese looked on slack jawed as the next fish struck the next ship and the same thing happened. The two ships are now in burning pieces with the flaming crewman jumping overboard. Olese felt someone grab his shoulder, he turned to see Roner shove him as hard as he could towards the front of the ship. Then he felt the shockwave and he watched horrified as the deck below Roner bloomed upwards as a fireball consumer Roner. The shockwave blew him all the way to the front of the ship, he slammed into a wooden wall and felt his ribs crack. At first his vision swam, when his vision refocused he saw the mast creak and fall towards him. Olese screamed as he covered his head and shut his eyes. He heard a mighty crash and the deck shook and cracked. He opened his eyes and saw the mast had landed less than a meter to his right.
To his horror he saw the remains of a pulped sailor on his right under the mast. Then he felt the deck start to tip forward. He felt his body start to slip down the deck and he looked down to the burning centre that used to be the centre of his ship. He screamed and scrabbled towards the railing. He grabbed hold at one of the holes designed to allow water to drain from the deck. He held on as he felt the ship continue to tip forward. He looked back and saw screaming sailors try and fail to grab onto the smooth deck as they slid into the roaring inferno. It was then did he realise that the water was on fire. Whatever that fish was it had covered the sea in flames. He watched horrified as the screaming sailors were engulfed in the flames.
Olese now hanging from the tiny circle in the railing felt his feet dangle off the deck and his chest pressed against the railing. He clung on to dear life as he heard the screams of dying sailors below him. Breathing was getting more difficult as each laboured breath caused his chest to crackle. Olese knew he had to get off the side of the ship or he would join the ranks of charred bloated corpses in the sea. He looked down and saw there was another hole about 2 metres below him. If he could get his feet there he could maybe pull himself over the side. If he missed… well he didn't want to think about that. What did the priests call it? A leap of faith? Roner gave his life for him, he sure as hell wasn't going to die without a fight, he wasn't going to meet the gods for lack of effort.
Olese let one hand go and grabbed the top of the railing which was now vertical to the sea. He took one last steady breath and let go, he used his hand to stabilise his drop and he slammed his feet into the hole. He felt his ankle crack and he let out a hiss of agony as he felt his entire weight press onto this now broken ankle. Still he grabbed on and fought through the pain. He could feel the heat rising from below him now. Olese grabbed the railing and with what remaining strength he had left hoisted himself off the edge of the railing and threw himself off into the water.
Olese hit the freezing water and tried his best to swim to one of the pieces of scattered wood debris. He grabbed onto one of the charred floating bits of wood and looked back at the once mighty merchant ship. It's hull now almost gone below the waves, there were some sailors scattered about the ship. They were few however, far too few…
Then he heard the sound of splashing in front of him, he turned and looked on slack jawed as a red metal ship emerged from the waves. On the side he could see a symbol emblazoned, it was a metal gauntlet clutching a hammer. Then from the top of the ship the deck seemed to open up and from it emerged a pair of strange metal sculptures. The sculptures rotated and pointed towards the city. Then the statues began to glow and Olese felt a rising feeling of dread well up from within him.
Then the sculptures fired balls of energy towards the city, he could only watch in horror as the balls of energy created explosions where they landed. Even from here he could see the storehouses explode, the docks burn and buildings crumble. The barrage continued as volley after volley slammed into the once proud city Shurana setting it alight. Then he saw red dressed figures emerge from the ship and they took off towards the city.
"Mages…" Olese whispered to himself despairingly.
Olese suspicions were confirmed as he watched from a distance as the mages loosed spell after spell into the city indiscriminately. He watched as the town hall crumbled under the weight of the barrage of spells, the remaining ships in the port were now smoking and burning piles of driftwood. Shurana was one of the major port cities of the Holy Kingdom… with it's destruction how will the army at the Ice Gate Valley get supplies?
Hoburns, Royal Palace 3 days later
Calca sat on her throne biting her lip as the report was read to her and what remained of her court. When she summoned her court again she found less than half had responded to the summons. She had heard many of the nobles have fled to the Theocracy with their fortunes. Half the domains within Holy Kingdom no longer had a ruler, the harvest was slowing and conscription was dragging along at a glacial pace.
"Mages then descended upon the Shurana and destroyed most of the city. The storehouses that held the harvest yield were destroyed. We estimate we have lost a quarter of this year's harvest." the soldier finished.
"How is this possible?" one of the nobles stammered in horror.
"We have a few survivors, my queen, would you like to see them?" the captain asked.
"Bring them in." Calca said with a sigh.
Olese was led into the palace, his mind was still in shock. Hours after the initial attack when he had finally scrabbled to shore he had found the city destroyed. Burning and blackened corpses littered the destroyed streets. He used a piece of destroyed wood planking and stumbled his way towards his family home in the city. He tried his best to navigate the now destroyed city, most of the streets were now barely recognisable. He stumbled past the smoking ruins of the tavern he used to hang out with his friends. Finally he arrived at this family home and sank to his knees as he gazed at the blasted husk that was once his home.
He looked to the corpses littered around the street and he flipped one of the corpses over to see a blackened and unrecognisable face. He was sure his parents were in that hulking black husk of a house. If they were in there at least he knew which of these corpses were his parents so he knew which body to mourn.
The soldiers found him a day later on his knees in front of his house, dehydrated and starving. His broken ankle was so swollen it looked like a purple ball. When the soldiers healed him and dragged him back to the encampment he was barely able to talk. It was only after significant coaxing from the priests did they get him to tell them everything he saw.
As Olese recounted what he saw to the courts, he watched as the faces of the court grew pale. This war was over that he knew. If the forces of the 41 could bring such force suddenly and without warning, imagine what they could do with their banners held high.
"My queen, we have also received reports that Naga have destroyed nine coastal villages. Word has not spread to the other coastal cities yet. I fear the forces of the 41 wish to cripple our sea routes." the captain said.
"They have already crippled our sea routes." Claca replied bitterly.
"Then what should we do? If the Ice Gate Valley starves, the forces of the 41 will roll over the border." One of the nobles stammered.
"We should shift supplies to land routes, it will be slower but slow is better than nothing at all." an ageing noble said.
"That's not possible, we don't have the means to do so. The roads aren't developed and we don't have the men to do so. The land routes are mostly traveled by small merchants and peasants." another noble retorted.
Calca gazed down at her squabbling court, the court was split down the middle. The older veteran nobles were more pragmatic and were voicing solutions while the younger less experienced nobles were sputtering excuses.
"It's impossible, we can't reorganise the entire supply system of the Holy Kingdom in a manner of weeks!" one of the nobles.
"Impossible?" an ageing voice said.
The court stilled and they turned to see an elderly man in a dwarven crafted wooden wheelchair being pushed into the throne room.
"Father…" Calca muttered. It has been years since her father Calais Bessarez had entered court. He was old, very old, he just saw his 77th summer in this world and he might be the oldest person in the Holy Kingdom.
"Elder Patriarch." the nobles said as they bowed deeply. Calca felt a tinge of annoyance at their attitude. Her father was greatly respected and it seems thus far she doesn't measure up.
"Impossible you say young man." Calais said although old his voice still rang strong with an iron will.
"Elder Patriarch I meant no offense." the noble stammered.
"No offence is taken young man, often a ruler must hear the difficult truth. However, those under her must not shy away from difficult paths as well." Calais said.
"But your grace, we can't overhaul the entire Holy Kingdom's supply lines in a few weeks. It's just not possible, we don't have the carts, the personnel. We have to guard the routes with soldiers we do not have." one of the nobles replied.
"Our nation has stood for 600 years, we won our nation from the likes of the High Elves and Dragons. What is human against a dragon with its fiery maw? What is a human against an ancient high elf who has more training in martial prowess and magic than most armies have collectively? Yet we prevailed. The High Elves are no more, the remaining Dragons can be counted on two hands. We are stronger than you realise young man." Calais said.
"But your grace with respect, within the time frame it can't be done." the noble replied.
"It can't be done?" Calais asked, cocking his head his demeanor unphased.
Calais calmly reached to the side of the wheel chair and pulled a lever locking the wheels. He put his legs out and placed his arms on the arm rest. With a groan of effort he began to rise from the chair. The maids attending him gasped.
"Elder Patriarch!" one of the maids cried as she rushed forward and grabbed Calais' arm.
"Get back Alfiah, get back." Calais ordered calmly, the maid hesitated for a moment before releasing Calais and taking a shaky step back.
Centimetre by centimetre the ageing body rose from the chair to the shocked eyes of the court. Finally the once proud king stood tall once more.
"I haven't stood up on my two feet for five years, my lords. Do not tell me it can't be done, it can be done... because it must be done." Calais said calmly.
The court stood stunned for a moment as they gazed at the ageing Elder Patriarch. Then one of the ageing nobles knelt before Calais and lowered his head. The rest of the court soon followed suit.
"It will be as you command Elder Patriarch." the elder noble said.
"Nothing is impossible my fellow countrymen. The 41 wish to drag this world back into darkness, with the blessing of the six we have kept their torch lit for 600 years. Six willing it will burn for another 600 more." Calais declared.
Calca looked at the scene with mixed feelings. It was a stark reminder she was not her father's equal. Her father Calais Bessarez had once stood on the wall to fight off a great beastmen incursion. Many still called him the Martial Lord of Valor, a title he had earned as he held the banner of the Holy Kingdom as he stood atop the bloodied wall strewn with corpses. Many paintings were commissioned at that moment. The finest of which hung in her palace.
Calca knew the whispers that spread amongst the old guard of the nobles. While the younger nobles admired her beauty and called her the golden queen much like how Renner was called the golden princess. In the shadows of their private moments the old guard have called her the gilded queen and the girl queen. She is the gilded queen for they view her as plated gold, a pale imitation of her father. Her beautiful visage is a veil that is used to cover the simple girl beneath.
"Many of our countrymen will starve in the coming war, but we must endure. There is no greater shame than to be the generation that witnesses the dying of the light." Calais said.
The younger nobles looked down shamefaced for a moment before raising their heads again with just a slightly harder look in their eyes.
"That's better, come my brethren the Holy Kingdom has a war to fight." Calais said.
Argland Council State
The Platinum Dragon Lord looked at the strange blonde girl with the glowing eye before him. She was an envoy of the supposed alliance of the 41. He had received intelligence reports on her exploits in uniting the eastern nations. She hails from a faraway nation and has somehow crossed the great impasse that surrounds these lands. He himself has seen the great impasse and it was a merciless force. Above the seas to the west a great storm roils with winds so strong it could even blow even him out of the air, above the deserts to the north a sand storm unlike any other rages tearing the sand from the earth in great plumes, to the south where the great forest ends a hurricane roils tearing anything that dares enter to shreds and to the west... he knows not what lies to the west. However, judging from the other three he could hazard an educated guess. To put it simply this continent was a cage and it lies in the eye of some other worldly storm. He long suspected there was no life beyond the great impasse but here this girl stands having crossed it. That alone spoke of power and dragons knew power speaks louder than any words.
So when word came that she was here in the capital and she seeked an audience, she was granted one immediately. Now she stood unflinching before the draconic forms of the Dragon Lords who sat upon their thrones gazing down at her. The room was designed to intimidate the one standing in the centre with the thrones cast in shadow to induce dread in the speaker. This it seemed was not very effective on their guest who could catch all their eyes perfectly through the darkness.
"Good afternoon my lords, I am a Templar Commander of the Ordo Malleus." the girl said calmly.
"You have not been spoken to." the blue sky dragon lord said, he was the youngest among them being only a hatchling at the time of the great fall.
"I am aware, you are the one being spoken too. I trust you are aware of the authority my station holds, a Templar Commander of the Ordo Malleus has the rank above the denizens of the realm." the girl replied calmly
"How dare you, you little welp." the blue sky dragon lord said with a snarl.
"I have no time for games, time is short so I come bearing two things, you may choose one." the girl said pressing on clearly not giving a damn about the veiled threats.
"The first is an alliance and a chance to repent your great error those centuries ago. The second is death, a punishment long overdue for the fools who failed in their custodianship over this world. Choose as you wish." the girl said. With those words the whole hall was silent, all the lesser races of the lower council were staring at her open mouthed. The brazenness of that statement shocked them to the core. Then they heard a snarl from the Blue Sky Dragon Lord and heard the tell tale hiss of flame building within the maw of the Dragon Lord.
"You dare?" the Blue Sky dragon lord snarled as his maw glowed.
"I am aware of the destruction of the Ordo Malleus Militia Garrison in these lands, helped in part by the actions of the Dragons." the girl said evenly.
Maeve had a simple set of instructions from her father, feign a rank that they would recognise and remind them of their duty. A Templar Commander of a Realm Garrison has the right to draw whatever resources they require from the denizens of the realm and all must obey. King or beggar, holy man or scoundrel, it mattered not, the Ordo's needs came first, always. Disobey this law and be branded a heretic for the Ordo's are the organisations that serve the 41 the most directly. They are the 41's mailed mist, an instrument of their divine will, to deny the Ordos is to deny the 41 and only destruction awaited those that opposed the 41. The Dragon Lords should know this, they after all lived past the fall of the Ordo Malleus Garrison. The very fact beings of such power were even alive was grounds for investigation. Afterall, where were the dragons when the 41's light faded from the world?
"You would accuse us?" the Obsidian Dragon replied in outrage.
"I would, I know the orders given to the Dragon Emperor, I know the task of custodianship granted to the Dracon and Asrai." Maeve replied as she reached into her coat and pulled out a roll of parchment. She unfurled it and showed it to the Dragon Lords.
"How did you get that? The only copy is in our vault!" the Blue Sky Dragon lord roared.
"Did you truly think the Ordo Malleus did not keep a copy?" Maeve replied.
dur do heyv, Naal fin jun do fin Dus
Maeve said in Dovahlid the language of the Dracon, it was the final line in the document given to the Dragon Emperor. It meant "The curse of duty, by the light of the 41." it was a reminder of their given task. A task they have failed more completely than any could have imagined.
This made the Dragon Lords go silent, the Dovahlid or Dragon Tongue is a powerful language. It was a language so ancient it predates the majority of the still existing languages. The words were not normal words, one cannot merely speak the sound, the Dragon Tongue was constructed from Words of Power. The language has the innate property of being unable to be spoken by those too weak to speak them. What is known to the denizens of this world as Wild Magic was merely a weaker version of what is known as the Thu'um or the Dragon Shout. Wild magic needed the use of a sacrifice to unlock the power of the words for the Dracons simply did not have the power to use it themselves. After all they were only Dracon, they were not Dovah, the Primordial Dragons who bear the essence of Touch Me in their veins.
For a human to be able to speak it spoke of power, power that should be beyond the abilities of their puny race. Naturally, Maeve only looked to be human, they had no idea she was so much more.
"How did you learn to speak our tongue? Answer me you welp!" the Blue Sky Dragon lord spat, he was on the verge of frenzy, for a mere human to speak their sacred tongue was a grave insult.
"As amusing as this posturing is you are wasting my time." the girl said as her hand shot out at the Blue Sky Dragon lord. A magic circle appeared and flashed for a brief moment. Then black chains shot out and gagged the Blue Sky Dragon Lord. Who in shock tried to tear off the chains but found them held fast, tightening with each attempt to remove them.
The Obsidian Dragon Lord shot to his feet in outrage about to pounce onto the girl.
"Enough!" the Platinum Dragon Lord roared halting him.
"You have made your point honoured envoy please release my compatriot." the Platinum Dragon Lord replied evenly, these younglings were too impulsive. If this girl could gag one of them with a wave of her hand, he did want to see what happens when she was attacked. One does not act like this unless they were confident in killing everyone in the room. In the back of his mind he wondered if she was attacked, would the room feel the power of a Thu'um?
"Finally some reason." the girl said as she waved her hand dispelling the chains.
"What is your answer? Your failure to keep the peace in this realm has not gone unnoticed by the 41, you destroyed the high elves due to petty grievances. In your pride and arrogance you allowed the six to take control. You have failed in your task, how do you plead?" the girl said coldly.
"How dare you!" the Blue Sky Dragon Lord roared as he sprang to his feet and he lunged at the girl.
"Suveria NO!" the Platinum Dragon Lord shouted a moment too late.
Chains erupted from the shadows and bound the Suveria the Blue Sky Dragon lord. This time the chains contorted and twisted binding him. The chains clinked and shifted squeezing tighter and tighter, twisting his body into an unnatural form.
Suveira roared in pain as the chains continued to tighten and they started to hear his bones crack. Then the second youngest the Wyrm Dragon Lord leapt forward in an effort to save his compatriot.
Joor Zaah Frul
There was a great shockwave and the Wyrm Dragon Lord felt a great agony as he crashed into the centre of the room cracking the stones. His massive form heaving from the pain, the pain was so great he could not even speak or howl. That was the Thu'um Dragon Rend, a weapon designed to fell full fledged Dovah. It translated as "Mortal, Finite, Temporary" a mocking shout to the immortal Dovah. For this shout cannot be used by the Dragons, it can only be used by the other races, for a Dragon to speak those words would spell instant death.
This time the Obsidian Dragon Lord acted and shot a jet of flame at Maeve.
Fo Krah Diin
Maeve countered and shot a wave of frost from her voice instantly punching straight through the flames and the Obsidian Dragon Lord just barely dodged out of the way as his throne was frozen solid.
The room was still for a moment as everyone tensed, then a great pressure slammed down onto everyone in the room and the Obsidian Dragon lord slammed face first into the stones. The Platinum Dragon Lord struggled against the weight and he felt the temperature in the room plunge, the lesser councillors were all locked into their seats unable to resist the pressure. Then an eldritch voice echoed out...
Enough daughter…
They have taken the test…
And failed…
The torches all along the walls went out and even the sun dimmed as the sunlight pouring in from the skylight above faded. Then oily black shadows crept out from every shadow in the room and coalesced next to the girl. From the darkness emerged a visage everyone in the room recognised. It was the lord of the abyss, Momonga… but yet he was small... only twice as tall as the small human girl. The Platinum Dragon Lord tried to sense power from him and strangely he felt nothing. Usually Dragons could sense some form of power; this is the first time he has sensed absolutely nothing. This fact should have comforted him but it was only filled with dread.
"Impossible…" the Diamond Dragon Lord muttered.
"Do you know who I am?" the skeletal figure said.
"No you can't be, I sense no power and how can a god be so small." the Diamond Dragon Lord said, trying to deny reality.
"This form is designed to comfort mortals who gaze upon it, allow me to remove that luxury." the skeletal figure said as he snapped his fingers.
Then the Platinum Dragon Lord could only look on mutely as the reality around those in the room seemed to crack, then there was the sound of glass shattering and the reality around them fell away revealing a thick black fog that surrounded them. Then from the fog emerged a gigantic pair of red lights slowly appeared in the fog casting an ominous red glow over the council room. It was then did the Platinum Dragon Lord realise those were a pair of eyes…
Now then is this closer to what you imagined?
An eldritch voice rumbled from the fog around them.
"What is this?" the Diamond Dragon lord muttered as he gazed around in horror.
"This is an illusion, it must be." the Obsidian Dragon Lord groaned out from his position on the floor.
Your world is an illusion
All I have done is peeled back the veil
This is reality
All you know, all you have seen
They are just props on a stage
Props to bring you comfort
I feel you no longer deserve the luxury
With those final words the rest of the council room shattered and all the occupants slammed right onto a black stone floor. Then the force pressing down upon them began to rise and one by one the Dragons found themselves on the floor.
You deny the authority of my Ordos…
You in your vanity only listen to power…
Very well, if it is power you wish to see then I am happy to oblige…
Then from the mist emerged a skull the size of a mountain, within it's eye sockets twin infernos raged. Next five fingers made of bone appeared from the fog, each joint the size of a small island. All the lesser races screamed as the fingers seemed to close in and crush them within its grasp. Then the fingers stilled and those trapped within waited with bated breath as the Lord of the Abyss decided their fate.
The Platinum Dragon looked to the girl who stood calmly in the centre of the room. Her expression neutral and not a trace of fear on her face. She must be one of those that served the Gods personally, there have been legends passed down of beings who served only at the Gods direct orders. They were beings worthy to stand at the side of the divine… and those two young welps had just attempted to attack her…
For the crime of daring to attack my daughter I should let the Abyss take you
"Should?" the Platinum Dragon Lord thought hopefully.
But you are no use to me dead
You the eldest rise
The Platinum Dragon Lord felt the weight lift off his body and he gingerly made to rise but he did not rise up to his full height. He kept his front legs bowed and his head bowed. He did not survive the war with the Asrai by being stupid and reckless. The prideful and impulsive were all quickly killed off by Asrai in the war, leaving behind only the cautious and pragmatic. However, judging by their current predicament, apparently they were not cautious enough. Those younglings were mere hatchlings when the war ended, they did not know of a time when Dragons fell from the sky under the weight of Asrai magic.
It seems you at least, have some good sense
These hatchlings seem to think that this nation will only act when commanded by their lords
So the lords will act as commanded
Am I clear?
"Yes, my lord, all we have are at your disposal." the Platinum Dragon Lord replied, his voice just barely holding steady.
Good, I am here in this world in every shadow
I will be watching, always
Do not disappoint me…
"Your instructions." the girl said as she held up a rolled scroll.
I look forward to your good service
With that in an instant the world returned to back to as it was. The room was back and the girl was gone. The only proof she was ever here was the scroll that now lay in the centre of the room. The Platinum Dragon Lord transformed into his humanoid form and he gingerly approached the scroll. He picked up the scroll and unfurled it, within lay a set of instructions, it spoke of a location to move his armies and a date and location of a meeting between the leaders of the various nations.
Now humbled beyond measure, the other Dragon Lords approached and viewed the scroll. The Dragon Lords gave each other a look and said nothing.
"We have our orders, we should dispatch a messenger and begin the mobilisation. All healthy fighters are to be committed. Any objections?" the Platinum Dragon Lord asked his fellows. His question was replied with silence.
"Very well." the Platinum Dragon Lord said as he handed the scroll to a nearby messenger who was now so pale his parlour looked like parchment. As the messenger ran off the Platinum Dragon Lord let out a sigh as he turned to face his fellows.
"The 41 have returned to this world, after 600 years of silence the divine once again walk this plane of existence. It matters not that we are Dracon, even the Dovah are but motes of dust before the 41. We must not fail. The legends are true and the gods are more real than any of us could have ever imagined. If the 41 do exist then it is not a stretch to assume that the Profaned Valley exists as well." the Platinum Dragon Lord said, though dragons cannot go pale he watched as his compatriot's pupils narrowed in fear.
"Lord Momonga is the oldest and the most powerful by far, he is also the final arbiter when we depart this mortal coil. If we met Touch Me or Bukubuku Chagama they might be inclined to be more merciful but I doubt we would get that luxury from the Lord of the Profaned Valley. Right now we are but pawns in their great game, that is all we are, nothing more." the Platinum Dragon Lord said as he paused for a moment. The others nodded mutely in assent, their pride gone, shattered in the face of the divine.
"I am invoking the old laws, I am the oldest so I will be taking command of this nation. We cannot afford to discuss and debate anything anymore. If Lord Momonga loses patience with us because of our usual bickering there is nothing in creation that can save us. I would not be surprised if he threw us face first into the Profaned Valley. The war with the Asrai was stupid, we all know that, with the Asrai gone we are the only ones left to take responsibility for that war. The Dawi sent us the prophecy of the Age of Reckoning, if this isn't a sign of that Age's arrival I don't know what is. The only silver lining is that we can't lose this war, not with the gods being personally present in this world." Those words seemed to comfort the rest slightly but the weight of the current situation still weighed heavily upon them.
"We have been given a second chance, to atone for our past mistakes. The twilight of the Six is upon us, we have waited eagerly for this day… I just wish we did not need to anger the gods for us to realise it." the Platinum Dragon Lord said to the bowed heads of shame from the others.
"That girl was referred to as his daughter, I doubt that is just a flight of fancy. We need to afford her all the respect due to her. I suspect her rank is not even real, that is the highest rank we are aware of, I am sure there are higher ranks given to those that personally serve the 41. That was a test and we failed in every conceivable way." the Platinum Dragon Lord said with a sigh.
"Come we have much to do, it is unwise to keep death itself waiting." the Platinum Dragon Lord said to the mute assent of the others.
The Beastmen Capital
Mia floated above the army below, she was with her wing and with Scarlet Wing were two additional wings of Fallschirmjaegers. The army below them were the now grizzled veterans of what has come to be known as the Beast Bane Campaign. The Ordo Malleus recruits were now seasoned soldiers who have carved their way through four armies and six cities. The campaign has lasted almost six months with the body count of the beastmen reaching almost 500 000. The order from high command was clear, this campaign was not one of conquest. High Command wanted the beastmen threat silenced forever, the beastmen were too close to Jaldabaoth's god of Ulbert Alain Odle. Autopsies of Beastmen Champions revealed the same magic binding that was found in the followers of the six. Thus the command was given, no Beastmen was to draw breath ever again in the west. The order is Exterminatus, an order that demanded the execution of every individual encountered. The young, the women, the infirm, the old none were spared and all were sent to the dark halls of Momonga to await judgement in the next life.
This was a brutal, bloody campaign and some of the soldiers were burning out as battle fatigue started to mount. The yowling of the young and their mothers were taking their toll on the minds of these fresh troops. The Ordo Malleus Militia did not receive the five years of training granted to Templars, their wills were not yet tempered and their convictions still weak. The Legions of the Baharuth Empire and Soldiers of the Re-Estise Kingdom were not doing much better. They had the same hollowed look in their eyes as they marched.
The specialized units however, were doing just fine. The Fallschirmjaegers, the Dreadnoughts, the Panther Battalion and all the other supporting personnel were all veterans of a hundred campaigns. Scarlet Wing however, has served for thousands of campaigns, Mia herself has served for centuries as a Fallshirmjaeger. She has fought from the gates of Valhalla, to the desolate plains of Helheim. She has battled the Dovah and cut down Asrai. She has fought in almost every conceivable environment and conditions.
Despite all that, sometimes she wonders if her home in Elysia is still there, she wonders if there is still bread baking over the hearth like her mother used to do all those years ago. The Siox line knew of her of course, every few decades she would receive letters from a family member saying that they had just joined the Fallschirmjaegers and wished to meet her. She stopped agreeing after the second century, they always ended up being killed eventually. She still had family but she stopped visiting a few centuries ago. It was too painful to care for people who would perish eventually. Her duty was now all she had, she now lives the fate of every accomplished soldier in the Ordos. A life of service devoid of all mortal desires. There is no more going home, there is only the next battle and the next campaign. War was her life now and it was all she will ever have.
In front of her in the distance was the scrabbled remains of the Beastmen. Using her optical spells she saw the sorry state of the army, this was their last stand. Most of the army was made of the young, the old and women. They looked terrified, their pupils dilated and their breath coming in panicked gasps. Their equipment was a mess as well, some of them were using wooden sticks for weapons. It seems they didn't even have enough weapons to arm the whole army. They knew they could not run, the reason there were so many Fallschirmjaeger was that they were used as hunting parties to kill stragglers. The word had spread over these past months, there was no running, there was no hiding. The best they could do was to go down putting up whatever pathetic resistance they could.
"Ready bombardment." Mia heard Lieutenant Colonel Sebyakov say.
Mia raised her spell rifle and primed a spell and took aim. In her vision she saw the overlay revealing where everyone else was aiming at and as soon as she picked a spot that no one was aiming at she paused and waited. Through her optical spell she saw the Beastmen start to weep and several fell to their knees in despair. She knew why, when Fallschirmjaeger primed spells their rifles glowed blue and now the beastmen were seeing over a hundred glowing blue dots in the distance. They knew what that meant, the Ordo Malleus was going to blast them into pulp before advancing. They have been doing this every clash so far, usually they killed half the army before the battle began. A more experienced army would have scattered and conducted guerrilla warfare, but the experienced leaders and soldiers were now lying in mass graves. It was all these beasts could do to stand together in formation. Idly Mia thought at least they have the decency to die properly. Nothing was more irritating than chasing down scattered rats.
Command to all Jaeger Elements are preparation complete for bombardment?
Scarlet Wing aye
Echo Wing aye
Viper Wing aye
Bombardment will be time on target barrage with Thunder Elements
"We have our orders, the Arty have the show, sync up." Mia heard Serbyakov say over the comms.
Mia activated her spell and saw a timer appear in her cone of vision. The number was static as they waited for the artillery to fire. She didn't have long to wait for soon she heard the roar of the guns far below them and the timer began to tick down. The system was simple, the Fallschirmjaegers synced their targeting systems to the artillery units, the system calculates when the shells will impact and how long it will take for the spells of the Fallschirmjaegers to strike. Then it shows the time to the Fallschirmjaegers telling them the exact time they need to fire in order for the combined barrage to impact all at once, maximising the shock of the first strike. The only drawback was this required some preparation time and in a time limited scenario the precision of this can be compromised. Here however, there was no pressure, for all intents and purposes this was as good as a live fire exercise.
As the timer finished counting Mia released her spell. She watched as the hail of projectiles soared towards the beastmen who had started to turn and flee. They were too late of course, the projectiles would take less than ten seconds to land and they wouldn't get far considering they were in a packed formation. Then there was a flash followed by an ear splitting roar as the last army of Beastmen were consumed by fire.
Command to all Jaeger elements advance and clear the FOB
All Shield, Sword, Thunder and Spear Elements begin the encirclement
And so the forces of 41 advanced and surrounded the last bastion of the Beastmen. Many great stories and legends speak about heroic last stands but reality is rarely so glorious. The Ordos disliked dealing with last stands, they were expensive and costly endeavours. Those in command have little interest in their foes final blaze of glory. The Ordos much preferred dismantling their foes in smaller engagements capitalising on their superior speed, firepower and organizational efficiency. By the time the remnants of whatever culture they were tasked to destroy was down to their last legs, they rarely had the strength to mount anything close to a last stand. So the curtains of fate fall on the Beastmen of the west, their culture falling like so many before them. Their end was not glorious, their end was as the Ordo Malleus designed. It was a pathetic whimper as the light of their civilisation faded from creation.
Hours later after the Ordo Malleus had buried the city in white phosphorus incendiary shells. Mia walked through the scorched remains of the beastmen's final bastion of civilization, there was only thought in her mind. This thought was shared by all the members of the Ordo's.
Now for the real enemy…
Authors Note: Hey guys sorry for the long wait I'm in the middle of my exam period so I just wanted to get this short chapter out. The exams end on the 14th of November so the update schedule will begin in earnest then.
I started writing a new story as well based in the Harry Potter universe as a chill side project. It's a darker take on the Harry Potter universe with much more complicated politics as compared to the source material. (It's a dark story surprise surprise...)
Don't worry this won't delay Primordials. As I will mainly write this other story when I need a short break from Primordials, the side story is easier to write and generally takes only a few hours to knock out a chapter. In truth Primordials is really difficult to write because I have to manage about eight major storylines that run in parallel which means I need to plan when to introduce who and what, are the time frames for events correct, what to show and what to explain after the fact, is this event engaging enough warrant being part in the story… etc. Afterall Genji digging foxholes, Neia mining ore and Kel'Thuzad raising the dead doesn't exactly provide the most engaging read. So this is why updates take as long as they do. Lots of planning and double checking past chapters to make sure I don't make any continuity mistakes.
So leave a review if you liked it, I appreciate every review I get and see you guys in the next chapter! (Somewhere in mid November)
PS: It came to my attention that some couldn't see this chapter so I messed around with to resolve it.