4. Death Before Dishonour
Blue light, red light, green light, white. Ganth's dwarven eyes were better accustomed to the underground dinginess of Kaladim's mines than to all the brightness of spell casting. He was grateful to see the blue lights fluttering around him, though, and he felt their power enter his aching, tortured chest, renewing his strength. His thoughts drifted for a moment to Eltheria: tall, beautiful, gentle Eltheria. The gods had smiled upon him the day he had encountered her on the roads of the Butcherblock Mountains. Since their meeting, he had smiled and laughed more than ever. He had even begun singing again, for the first time since his wife was killed by goblins.
The dwarf's mind snapped back to the present, and to the orc in front of him. "You'll not hurt my Eltheria," he muttered, quietly, and leapt back into the fray, slashing and hacking with his blood-covered knife, jabbing low with his spear. The sudden speed and urgency of his attack caught the orc unawares, and the dwarf's renewed energy overpowered it for a moment. Waving both its arms wildly to deflect the knife, the orc did not see the spear coming up from below, and only felt it slide painfully and smoothly into its stomach. The point pierced a lung, and the orc fell heavily, choking on its own blood.
Behind Ganth, Siobhan was raging. The Chief had leapt to the attack, taunted by her insults, and smashed his huge warhammer down upon the barbarian warrior. With a laugh, Siobhan shifted gracefully to one side, slapped her short sword down on the hammer and swung her longsword. For a moment, she looked the Chief right in the eyes, then her sword hit, ripping the beast's shoulder padding away. Siobhan laughed again. The Chief's warriors closed in on both sides of the tall warrior.
Surrounded, Siobhan whirled like a rock dervish in the Lavastorm Mountains. The steel of her blades flashed, leaving trails of blood behind as she spun, dodging attacks, parrying incoming weapons and replying with her booted feet; but she was outnumbered, and the Chief was a formidable foe. The hammer came down again, and the barbarian tried to block it. She felt her grip loosen on her short sword as the powerful blow struck her, then the great metal weapon smashed into her chest, knocking her backwards and winding her. She could feel the rings of her armour cutting into her skin as she fought for balance, still managing to fend off the attacks of the other four beasts.
Rolling to one side, the huge warrior regained her feet and, continuing her turn, slashed viciously at the Chief with her father's sword. Metal connected with metal, and the blade carved through the orc's mail shirt. Blood blossomed onto the creature's leggings as the sound of creaking ice filled the air. The blood froze. For a moment, the Chief himself froze, then, shaking like a hunting dog coming out of water, he regained control of himself. Siobhan gasped as her father's murderer withstood the power of the family heirloom.
Eltheria knelt, meditating, concentrating herself on her internal energy. It was hard to remain centred, knowing her friends were in trouble, knowing there were five enemies attacking Siobhan, one more on Gueri, another on Jomen and two oracles in the camp. She pushed the thought away. Rising quickly, she began to chant again. She knew she would be unlikely to affect the Chief - he was so big! - so she aimed her powers at one of the others: red lights flickered, the sound of thunder cracked in the air and the beast was thrown backwards several feet as Tunare's wrath smashed into it. The orc turned and roared at Eltheria, then charged directly at her. It didn't bother to use its weapons, simply smashing into the slight elf's body, knocking her to the ground. It rained its fists down upon her, pounding her body, stunning her and stopping her from rising. There was little she could do.
Beside the elf, Gueri was still fighting. The orc facing her kept shouting at her, but she knew better than to be taunted. She spoke the orc tongue surprisingly well, and retorted in its own language, annoying it. The beast battered away at the cleric's shield with its club, each blow forcing her backwards. Suddenly, Gueri seemed to regain her balance and riposted, sweeping the club aside and smashing her own down onto the creature's hip. The orc yelped as the club struck and flashed with light, breaking bones, then swung its own weapon down on Gueri's shoulder. The bludgeon connected, but scraped noisily off her deep red tabard, seemingly repelled by an innate power. The orc cursed.
Jomen felt weak. Virtually all his spiritual force was gone, and the oracles in the camp were unhurt. Swearing feebly, he summoned the last of his power and launched magical flames at one of them. Thankfully, the magic stuck, burning the beast's skin and enraging it. Both the casters charged the wood elf, one waving a club in the air, the other pulling a knife from its belt. As they closed, the elf cracked his whip, trying to disarm one of the beasts or at least entangle it. His luck, however, was failing along with his strength - his blows slipped wide and the orcs closed in, hacking at him. Ganth leapt to his defense, attacking the one bearing a club. Suddenly, Jomen felt steel enter his body as the orc with the knife got so close he could smell its body; he felt the blade slice down his ribs and cut deeper. then everything went black.
"Jomen!" screamed Gueri. Seeing her elven friend crumple, she tried to run in his direction, but the orc in front of her blocked her way. Swearing and cursing, she lashed out at the beast with her club, but it would not be turned aside.
Ganth watched in horror as his friend fell to the orc's knife. Never before had one of them fallen in battle. He parried the attack of the club- wielding orc and slashed with his knife, trying to open the monster's stomach, but once again metal screeched against metal. The second oracle was hunched over Jomen and, to Ganth's dismay, raised its knife. The weapon fell, and Jomen's body seemed to relax.
The dwarf roared, a terrible, deep sound that came from the pit of his stomach. With no thought for the danger, he pushed past the oracle in front of him and kicked the second, knocking it to the ground. Standing over Jomen's now inert body, he swung round and planted his spear firmly into the leg of the creature that had killed his friend. It screamed as the spear passed clean through, pinning it to the ground. Ganth raised his own knife high.
"Hehehehehehehe."
The terrible, high-pitched laugh came from beside the dwarf. Risking a glance, Ganth was horrified to see a tall, skeletal figure standing beside him, scythe in hand. It slashed the weapon down, nearly slicing the dwarf's arm clean off. Behind the undead monster stood the dark elf, a sickening, twisted smile on its face.
"Time to meet your maker, little man," hissed the elf, raising its hands as it brought forth a magic of such evil that the air itself stank of rotting flesh. Ganth froze in place.
Suddenly, the air split itself asunder in a huge, roaring explosion. Fire rained from the trees, showering the orc oracles and the dark elf with intense heat. The skeleton exploded into a thousand bony shards as a monstrous fireball hit it with unimaginable power, deafening Ganth as he hastily ducked to one side. The dark elf staggered as his robes caught fire and his hair singed.
"Not so fast, Vaeksil."
The gentle voice came from the woods, and was followed by a tall, pale, high elven figure in green robes. Beside the figure floated an elemental, spitting fire and scorching the grass as it passed. The dark elf cursed in its own tongue.
"You!"
"Aye, 'tis me, Vaeksil," the high elf said. "Begone." The dark elf spat on the ground and began casting a spell. Beside him, the two orc oracles had regained their composure and were raising weapons once again as Ganth tried to pull himself to his feet. They closed on their prey, as the dark elf faded into the shadows and disappeared, leaving only a foul smell and vague mutterings.
Siobhan was failing fast. Under the constant pounding and hacking of the monsters surrounding her, and with the two clerics busy fighting, her strength was going. One of the orcs had fallen to her short sword as she tried to hold off the Chief and only risked quick, sure strokes in attack. The other two were untouched, and the Chief was showing no signs of faltering. When the explosion hit the dark elf's pet, the barbarian took an immediate decision.
"For me father! For me brothers!" she shouted, and dived straight at the Chief. The beast was taken by surprise, but managed to bring his warhammer between him and the charging warrior. Siobhan's sword carved down in a high arc: a long, risky blow that connected with a resounding crash. The blade cut straight through the hammer's haft, and embedded itself in the Chief's head. There was a sound of creaking ice, and the orc's dying expression was frozen forever.
Beside her, the two remaining orc warriors screamed in anger, and thrust their weapons at the barbarian. With her sword stuck in the Chief's head and completely off-balance, she could do nothing to stop their blows, and the two weapons smashed into her, slicing through her armour. Siobhan raised her eyes in agony, as she felt her life ebbing away.
"I come to join you, pap." she gasped, as she fell heavily to the ground, face down.
Eltheria was still pinned by the orc pounding on her shield and armour. She couldn't move its bulk, and her head was spinning from the constant battering. She cursed to herself and tried to budge the weight on her, but couldn't. Suddenly, a long-forgotten memory came back to her from her childhood and she smiled inwardly. Raising her knee sharply, she brought it up directly between the orc's legs. The creature made a sound surprisingly like the one an annoying bully had made when Eltheria had done the same thing to him in the Temple courtyard many years ago, and slumped to one side. The elf rose, and returned the orc's favour, battering it mercilessly on the ground with her flail.
Beside her, Gueri was faring well. The orc facing her was having no luck at all in penetrating the armour she wore, although she did not seem to be hurting it much in return. Fighting defensively, she used her shield to good effect, turning the beast's club away repeatedly. Without warning, the orc suddenly stopped. Around it gathered dozens and dozens of ethereal swords, appearing in the air. The orc had a mere moment for a look of fear, then the swords crashed inwards upon it, ripping its body apart. Gueri looked across the bloodied, dismembered remains of the creature and saw the high elf newcomer standing smiling at her.
"Rendil!" she shouted, with a huge smile.
"Hello my dear," responded the high elf, with a deep bow. Behind him, the fire elemental turned one of the orc oracles to ash, as the second ran away screaming into the trees. The high elf turned quickly toward the two remaining orc warriors, who stood by Siobhan's body, surveying the now less- than-promising scene. They looked at each other for a moment, as the elf began chanting, then dropped their weapons and fled. They could not run fast enough, though, and were caught in a second rain of fire that beat down upon them, burning and scorching their skin. Both orcs fell to the ground, writhing in agony.
Gueri ran across to the high elf, who hugged her close. The two looked into each others eyes as the elf spoke.
"I'm sorry I was a little late. The druid, Fane, is hard to find this time of year."
"It's just good to see you, my love," replied Gueri. Rendil held her close, whispering: "Aye, it's been too long."
Ganth and Eltheria staggered over to the couple and bowed painfully. Eltheria immediately took hold of Ganth's nearly-severed arm and called upon Tunare, using the last of her strength to mend the wound a little. They both sat down, heavily, tears welling in their eyes.
"Jomen. Siobhan." whispered Eltheria. Ganth placed his arm around her, guiding her head onto his shoulder, and she wept. Ganth, too, shed tears that day, although he would never admit it to his countrymen. Rendil and Gueri surveyed the scene.
"Damnation," said Rendil, quietly. "That blasted dark elf has been working his evil ways again. I'm just glad I got word from High Priest Zaelem that he was here and up to his tricks again. Let's borrow their camp." Calling the elemental to his side, the elf continued: "Jabober here can stand guard while you rest yourselves, and we look after your friends." The elemental fizzled in agreement.
The group rose slowly and made their way to the camp, carefully bringing the bodies of their fallen comrades to rest by the warmth of the orc fires.
Blue light, red light, green light, white. Ganth's dwarven eyes were better accustomed to the underground dinginess of Kaladim's mines than to all the brightness of spell casting. He was grateful to see the blue lights fluttering around him, though, and he felt their power enter his aching, tortured chest, renewing his strength. His thoughts drifted for a moment to Eltheria: tall, beautiful, gentle Eltheria. The gods had smiled upon him the day he had encountered her on the roads of the Butcherblock Mountains. Since their meeting, he had smiled and laughed more than ever. He had even begun singing again, for the first time since his wife was killed by goblins.
The dwarf's mind snapped back to the present, and to the orc in front of him. "You'll not hurt my Eltheria," he muttered, quietly, and leapt back into the fray, slashing and hacking with his blood-covered knife, jabbing low with his spear. The sudden speed and urgency of his attack caught the orc unawares, and the dwarf's renewed energy overpowered it for a moment. Waving both its arms wildly to deflect the knife, the orc did not see the spear coming up from below, and only felt it slide painfully and smoothly into its stomach. The point pierced a lung, and the orc fell heavily, choking on its own blood.
Behind Ganth, Siobhan was raging. The Chief had leapt to the attack, taunted by her insults, and smashed his huge warhammer down upon the barbarian warrior. With a laugh, Siobhan shifted gracefully to one side, slapped her short sword down on the hammer and swung her longsword. For a moment, she looked the Chief right in the eyes, then her sword hit, ripping the beast's shoulder padding away. Siobhan laughed again. The Chief's warriors closed in on both sides of the tall warrior.
Surrounded, Siobhan whirled like a rock dervish in the Lavastorm Mountains. The steel of her blades flashed, leaving trails of blood behind as she spun, dodging attacks, parrying incoming weapons and replying with her booted feet; but she was outnumbered, and the Chief was a formidable foe. The hammer came down again, and the barbarian tried to block it. She felt her grip loosen on her short sword as the powerful blow struck her, then the great metal weapon smashed into her chest, knocking her backwards and winding her. She could feel the rings of her armour cutting into her skin as she fought for balance, still managing to fend off the attacks of the other four beasts.
Rolling to one side, the huge warrior regained her feet and, continuing her turn, slashed viciously at the Chief with her father's sword. Metal connected with metal, and the blade carved through the orc's mail shirt. Blood blossomed onto the creature's leggings as the sound of creaking ice filled the air. The blood froze. For a moment, the Chief himself froze, then, shaking like a hunting dog coming out of water, he regained control of himself. Siobhan gasped as her father's murderer withstood the power of the family heirloom.
Eltheria knelt, meditating, concentrating herself on her internal energy. It was hard to remain centred, knowing her friends were in trouble, knowing there were five enemies attacking Siobhan, one more on Gueri, another on Jomen and two oracles in the camp. She pushed the thought away. Rising quickly, she began to chant again. She knew she would be unlikely to affect the Chief - he was so big! - so she aimed her powers at one of the others: red lights flickered, the sound of thunder cracked in the air and the beast was thrown backwards several feet as Tunare's wrath smashed into it. The orc turned and roared at Eltheria, then charged directly at her. It didn't bother to use its weapons, simply smashing into the slight elf's body, knocking her to the ground. It rained its fists down upon her, pounding her body, stunning her and stopping her from rising. There was little she could do.
Beside the elf, Gueri was still fighting. The orc facing her kept shouting at her, but she knew better than to be taunted. She spoke the orc tongue surprisingly well, and retorted in its own language, annoying it. The beast battered away at the cleric's shield with its club, each blow forcing her backwards. Suddenly, Gueri seemed to regain her balance and riposted, sweeping the club aside and smashing her own down onto the creature's hip. The orc yelped as the club struck and flashed with light, breaking bones, then swung its own weapon down on Gueri's shoulder. The bludgeon connected, but scraped noisily off her deep red tabard, seemingly repelled by an innate power. The orc cursed.
Jomen felt weak. Virtually all his spiritual force was gone, and the oracles in the camp were unhurt. Swearing feebly, he summoned the last of his power and launched magical flames at one of them. Thankfully, the magic stuck, burning the beast's skin and enraging it. Both the casters charged the wood elf, one waving a club in the air, the other pulling a knife from its belt. As they closed, the elf cracked his whip, trying to disarm one of the beasts or at least entangle it. His luck, however, was failing along with his strength - his blows slipped wide and the orcs closed in, hacking at him. Ganth leapt to his defense, attacking the one bearing a club. Suddenly, Jomen felt steel enter his body as the orc with the knife got so close he could smell its body; he felt the blade slice down his ribs and cut deeper. then everything went black.
"Jomen!" screamed Gueri. Seeing her elven friend crumple, she tried to run in his direction, but the orc in front of her blocked her way. Swearing and cursing, she lashed out at the beast with her club, but it would not be turned aside.
Ganth watched in horror as his friend fell to the orc's knife. Never before had one of them fallen in battle. He parried the attack of the club- wielding orc and slashed with his knife, trying to open the monster's stomach, but once again metal screeched against metal. The second oracle was hunched over Jomen and, to Ganth's dismay, raised its knife. The weapon fell, and Jomen's body seemed to relax.
The dwarf roared, a terrible, deep sound that came from the pit of his stomach. With no thought for the danger, he pushed past the oracle in front of him and kicked the second, knocking it to the ground. Standing over Jomen's now inert body, he swung round and planted his spear firmly into the leg of the creature that had killed his friend. It screamed as the spear passed clean through, pinning it to the ground. Ganth raised his own knife high.
"Hehehehehehehe."
The terrible, high-pitched laugh came from beside the dwarf. Risking a glance, Ganth was horrified to see a tall, skeletal figure standing beside him, scythe in hand. It slashed the weapon down, nearly slicing the dwarf's arm clean off. Behind the undead monster stood the dark elf, a sickening, twisted smile on its face.
"Time to meet your maker, little man," hissed the elf, raising its hands as it brought forth a magic of such evil that the air itself stank of rotting flesh. Ganth froze in place.
Suddenly, the air split itself asunder in a huge, roaring explosion. Fire rained from the trees, showering the orc oracles and the dark elf with intense heat. The skeleton exploded into a thousand bony shards as a monstrous fireball hit it with unimaginable power, deafening Ganth as he hastily ducked to one side. The dark elf staggered as his robes caught fire and his hair singed.
"Not so fast, Vaeksil."
The gentle voice came from the woods, and was followed by a tall, pale, high elven figure in green robes. Beside the figure floated an elemental, spitting fire and scorching the grass as it passed. The dark elf cursed in its own tongue.
"You!"
"Aye, 'tis me, Vaeksil," the high elf said. "Begone." The dark elf spat on the ground and began casting a spell. Beside him, the two orc oracles had regained their composure and were raising weapons once again as Ganth tried to pull himself to his feet. They closed on their prey, as the dark elf faded into the shadows and disappeared, leaving only a foul smell and vague mutterings.
Siobhan was failing fast. Under the constant pounding and hacking of the monsters surrounding her, and with the two clerics busy fighting, her strength was going. One of the orcs had fallen to her short sword as she tried to hold off the Chief and only risked quick, sure strokes in attack. The other two were untouched, and the Chief was showing no signs of faltering. When the explosion hit the dark elf's pet, the barbarian took an immediate decision.
"For me father! For me brothers!" she shouted, and dived straight at the Chief. The beast was taken by surprise, but managed to bring his warhammer between him and the charging warrior. Siobhan's sword carved down in a high arc: a long, risky blow that connected with a resounding crash. The blade cut straight through the hammer's haft, and embedded itself in the Chief's head. There was a sound of creaking ice, and the orc's dying expression was frozen forever.
Beside her, the two remaining orc warriors screamed in anger, and thrust their weapons at the barbarian. With her sword stuck in the Chief's head and completely off-balance, she could do nothing to stop their blows, and the two weapons smashed into her, slicing through her armour. Siobhan raised her eyes in agony, as she felt her life ebbing away.
"I come to join you, pap." she gasped, as she fell heavily to the ground, face down.
Eltheria was still pinned by the orc pounding on her shield and armour. She couldn't move its bulk, and her head was spinning from the constant battering. She cursed to herself and tried to budge the weight on her, but couldn't. Suddenly, a long-forgotten memory came back to her from her childhood and she smiled inwardly. Raising her knee sharply, she brought it up directly between the orc's legs. The creature made a sound surprisingly like the one an annoying bully had made when Eltheria had done the same thing to him in the Temple courtyard many years ago, and slumped to one side. The elf rose, and returned the orc's favour, battering it mercilessly on the ground with her flail.
Beside her, Gueri was faring well. The orc facing her was having no luck at all in penetrating the armour she wore, although she did not seem to be hurting it much in return. Fighting defensively, she used her shield to good effect, turning the beast's club away repeatedly. Without warning, the orc suddenly stopped. Around it gathered dozens and dozens of ethereal swords, appearing in the air. The orc had a mere moment for a look of fear, then the swords crashed inwards upon it, ripping its body apart. Gueri looked across the bloodied, dismembered remains of the creature and saw the high elf newcomer standing smiling at her.
"Rendil!" she shouted, with a huge smile.
"Hello my dear," responded the high elf, with a deep bow. Behind him, the fire elemental turned one of the orc oracles to ash, as the second ran away screaming into the trees. The high elf turned quickly toward the two remaining orc warriors, who stood by Siobhan's body, surveying the now less- than-promising scene. They looked at each other for a moment, as the elf began chanting, then dropped their weapons and fled. They could not run fast enough, though, and were caught in a second rain of fire that beat down upon them, burning and scorching their skin. Both orcs fell to the ground, writhing in agony.
Gueri ran across to the high elf, who hugged her close. The two looked into each others eyes as the elf spoke.
"I'm sorry I was a little late. The druid, Fane, is hard to find this time of year."
"It's just good to see you, my love," replied Gueri. Rendil held her close, whispering: "Aye, it's been too long."
Ganth and Eltheria staggered over to the couple and bowed painfully. Eltheria immediately took hold of Ganth's nearly-severed arm and called upon Tunare, using the last of her strength to mend the wound a little. They both sat down, heavily, tears welling in their eyes.
"Jomen. Siobhan." whispered Eltheria. Ganth placed his arm around her, guiding her head onto his shoulder, and she wept. Ganth, too, shed tears that day, although he would never admit it to his countrymen. Rendil and Gueri surveyed the scene.
"Damnation," said Rendil, quietly. "That blasted dark elf has been working his evil ways again. I'm just glad I got word from High Priest Zaelem that he was here and up to his tricks again. Let's borrow their camp." Calling the elemental to his side, the elf continued: "Jabober here can stand guard while you rest yourselves, and we look after your friends." The elemental fizzled in agreement.
The group rose slowly and made their way to the camp, carefully bringing the bodies of their fallen comrades to rest by the warmth of the orc fires.