Hello. Now this is the chapter that I have waited ages to write. Hopefully, it will be okay… but perhaps in my eagerness to write this, I may have made many flaws and mistakes. Please forgive me if this is so. I would just like to mention that my inspiration, and some of the general words for Nalia's inspirational speech have come from "At the End of the Day", which is a song in Les Miserables. Sorry if you think that the speech sucks, but… well, I like it, so… *ahem* Anyway, enjoy this chapter! Please review, as well! ~G
Chapter Thirty Five: Battle
Murann, 13th Tarsakh, 1370 DR
The golden dawn gave a hint of heavenly beauty to everything, even the fire-wracked ruins of outer Murann, and the cracked, battle-scarred remnants of the inner city and docks. Everywhere Nalia looked, were the bodies of men she knew, women she knew, warriors all who had lived and died to serve their nation.
A slight breeze stirred, and Nalia sighed. There had been no attack yet. She supposed that the ogre magi had scried out their intent the night before, in the council session, and remained confident that they could defeat the tiny remnants of the Amnian warriors.
Nalia looked down into the courtyard, and saw the preparations. In a few hours, they would attack, their horns sounding, and voices crying out… yet she saw in the eyes of every warrior, the sense of defeat. They knew they were riding out to a hopeless death.
Cernick walked over until he stood beside her, and for a long while, he was silent. Finally though, as if he had finally gained a grip over his emotions, he said, "Nalia… when you returned, back from the dead, I felt so… liberated… I thought that nothing could defeat us, that with you as our leader, we could defeat the scum… I thought… I thought I might have been able to return to the keep, to my family, and my daughter. But I… I don't think that I will be able to."
She opened her mouth to speak, but Cernick cut her off with a curt shake of the head. "No, Nalia… please, listen to me. I will be proud to serve alongside you today, in the final battle of my life… I will be happy to go out, charging, with the banners flying and the breeze in our faces. But I want your promise."
Nalia frowned. "My promised
on what, Cernick?"
He looked down. "That
you will not let yourself die. When all looks bleak, teleport yourself
to Athkatla, or to the Keep, and there you can lead the defence of the north.
The people will support you… they love you. Fight against the injustices of the
Council, and then lead the army against these ogres, and show them what will
happen when Amn is united, when the rulers listen
to the people instead of keeping them downtrodden… but you must live,
Nalia. You must live so that our sacrifice is not in vain."
There was a long silence.
"Cernick, I…"
The captain sighed. "You are not ready to promise that. By the gods, lady, you are too good for your health. Selfless and noble to the end. You could have left us all to die long ago, and none would have hated you for it…"
Nalia shook her head, and gave him a smile. "No, Cernick… I could not. For the Amn that I have fought for these past months will die here today. I will not live longer, because everyone else that survives is corrupt, and wishes me dead. If I return to the north, no matter how much support I have amongst the common people, I will die. The Council brooks no threat to their authority, and I have threatened them, the way the people love me so… no, I would rather die here, leading the people I love and know, the people I have done my best to serve, than to live in constant fear of betrayal by those grown fat on corruption."
Cernick's eyes glistened, and he turned away, rather than cry. "It is an honour."
*
The army gathered outside the walls of Murann. The enemy army stood in massed ranks, almost content to wait for Nalia's forces to make the first move. Nalia rode beside Imoen, Apheyr and Cernick, and the ten household knights that remained to her.
She faced the five thousand men, who stared at her, their eyes empty of anything except their final duty. For a moment, her courage failed her, and she wondered whether she should lead them to the docks, and there fight, hoping that the Council would send aid.
But they wouldn't.
Better this way, that they have some chance of killing the leaders of this horde, than the other way, which doomed them while they remained behind the supposed security of the dock walls…
If they fought like this though, eyes dead of emotion, hearts empty of anything, then the battle would be lost. The men had to have something to fight for… something to die for, something to survive for. And for that, Nalia knew, she would have to talk to them.
Looking at the horde about seven hundred metres away, she bowed her head, and then looked once again at the warriors. Loudly, Nalia then shouted, trying to put her emotion into her words, "Warriors of Amn! I know that in your hearts, you despair. For here, in the broken ruins of the southern jewel, you have fought, you have stood against the onslaughts of evil, and you have done your duty. Yet your rulers remain in the north, safe, refusing to send aid, refusing to help us."
There were a few grumbles at this, and Nalia saw a brief spark of rebellion appear in their eyes, and then fade. Pausing for a moment, she continued, her voice cutting through the silence, throbbing with the power of an orator:
"The winter of war has come, and has left us, but there is another winter, a winter caused by those in power! Every day, thousands suffer in poverty, a poverty inflicted by our oh-so noble rulers."
The grumbles were louder this time, and a few angry shouts. Imoen looked at Nalia, seeing the woman shout openly for the first time her views on the Council for everyone to hear. If they survived, Nalia knew the Council would desire her dead more than ever. But the words had been spoken now, and there was little that could be done to stop the flow of words, even if Nalia had wanted to stop them.
"The righteous hurry past, for they do not hear the little ones crying for their mothers! For their fathers, brothers, all who have fallen in the bloody fields of Murann, in the valleys, in the moorland, in the ruins of Imnescar, in the passes, on the roads. We have given all; we have charged forward, our voices crying out to the gods!"
More than a few shouts now, as each person remembered the dead, those who had fallen in their thousands. They looked around, and saw the ruins of the walls, walls which had stood proud a week before.
"And we have been ignored! The rich still live in their halls, unconcerned about our sacrifice. The Council stands immobile, when they should be acting for our families, our children, our nation!"
Shouts of agreement, louder than anything before, rocked Nalia, and she found herself gripped by the passions of every man standing in front of her, shocked at the depth of their anger, at their fury.
"Where is the unity, my warriors? Where is the unity, and power that has made people look at Amn in wonder? We may find it hard to look for, we may find it nearly non-existent, but I assure you, it is there! "
To that, very few answered.
"It is here, within our hearts, within our souls! It begs for release, our desire for unity, our desire for fairness, our desire for justice! Justice for the poor, justice for the rich! Justice for men, justice for women! Justice for all! Justice, not just for the merchant's who control the purses of the Council, but for the slaves who fuel the greed of the merchants."
A blasting of sound and Nalia nodded. She was speaking out now, and she was finding such freedom in the words, words that she had kept bottled up inside her, unless talking to her closest friends. And the soldiers were looking at Nalia in a new light, realising that this was one lady of Amn who was willing to fight alongside them, and talk to them as equals.
"When we stand here this day, shoulder to shoulder, blade with blade, as brothers in arms, we are united. We are strong, we are a sword of justice for our nation! We will make the Council sit up and take notice! We will make the people see our sacrifice, and with our sacrifice, all will change!"
More shouts. Nalia saw, behind them, the horde losing patience. They were starting to advance, and she saw the fear flashing in the eyes of her soldiers, though it was less than it had been before.
"Because there is a new sun, waiting to rise! Like the waves waiting to crash on the shore, like a storm that will break, any second! There is a hunger in the land, a hunger for peace, a hunger for justice! There is a reckoning to be made! These enemies have attacked our lands, they have killed, raped, pillaged! And we will show them, not the divided land that drives itself for coin, but a land of noble warriors, willing to give all to stop their dark advance!"
And with this, she skilfully turned the anger against the invaders, and saw the flashing of anger replacing the permeations of fear. Swords were rattled, spears beat against shields, and curses were yelled against the enemy who were still marching towards them.
"And I say to you now, warriors of Amn: fuck the Council! Fuck everything they tell us! Fuck everything about duty, loyalty, and when you fight, think of your families, think of this nation, and then fix that in your eyes!"
There were roars now, and Nalia could not even process the emotions, so powerful and strong were they, quivering with a force that shook her to the core.
"For there will be a new dawn for Amn! And on the sunset of our days, as our eyes dim, and our souls fly in glory to the realms of Kelemvor, the people of our nation will pray for us! They will see us, gleaming in our righteousness, for we will have avenged those who are dead!"
More shouts, a non-stop release of emotion, of anger, and she saw the fires of courage rekindled in their eyes. Nalia felt the tears dripping down her cheeks, for she too could see what she wanted them to see. She could see the children sacrificed to dark gods, she could see the warriors killed with blades and spells, she could see the debaucheries of the invaders, and knew that now was the time to repay that pain.
"Fuck the Council, I say, and fight for you!"
Another massive shout- a single shout that was all in unison. Nalia turned, and saw the enemy a hundred metres from her, and they were charging now, the ground pounding, like a thunderstorm of terrible proportions. Turning to her men, she cried out, as she charged forward, her robes gleaming and her staff shining with power.
"For our families! For our people! For Amn!"
And her final cry was echoed by five thousand, as they charged, none on horses, all on foot, their weapons held firmly, and fear now long gone. Hatred, bloodlust, filled all her warriors, and it even pulsed through Nalia.
Alongside her, rode Imoen, and Apheyr. Cernick and the household guard charged with them. They would weaken the enemy, hopefully enabling them to fight through to the centre of the army. Nalia could see the banner of Sythillis and Cyrvrisnea. She cried a spell, and lightning flashed from her fingers, as uncontrolled as her fury.
It lashed forward, and the shrieks of dying enemies only served as further fuel for the fury that was building yet stronger within the bellows of her heart. Above them, the sky was darkening, as Apheyr called the power of ice, wind and rain to his side. Lightning flashed, and the rumbling of thunder made Nalia feel that today was the final judgement.
Another spell and about a hundred goblins died as she sent a death spell towards them. Imoen cast a dragon's breath spell and Nalia watched as enemies were scattered this way and that, screaming in terror. And quite right that they should.
They were the Three, the archmages who rode now, side by side, Cernick and the knights fighting against the endless press of enemies. But none could stand against the Three. They send flame, lightning, ice… necromantic blasts left their fingers, draining the life energy from those around them.
Swarms of magic missiles took out any enemy wizards they saw, and so no magic was even raised against them once. Nalia flung out her arm, and a blazing fire appeared, spreading acrid smoke all around them.
Imoen gestured, and another death spell claimed fifty lives in an instant. Apheyr whispered a spell, and an earthquake toppled into the midst of the army. All three pointed then, and a lightning bolt from each index finger tore forward.
And, faced by the Three, the enemy fled. Magic itself was turning against the army, like a beast of ultimate might. Purples flashes of light, green flames, blue sparks that danced wildly, it was almost like a fireworks display, but it was a fireworks display of lethal power that claimed lives every moment that passed.
But then Apheyr's horse bucked, and the air genasi fell to the floor. At once, Nalia heard Imoen cry out, and her spell tore a hill giant into dust, before he could crush Apheyr with his foot. But her spell left Imoen open to a massive spell attack by a Red Wizard.
With a growl, Nalia charged forward, and surrounded herself with a brilliant globe of white light, dazzling bright. The spells the wizard sent against her were rebounded, and she saw his eyes widen at her power.
Fury powered her next spell, as she sent kaleidoscopic colours of lightning tearing towards him. He screamed once, and then fell dead. The lightning spread from him, leaping from creature to creature killing each one immediately. Nalia then turned, and saw Imoen standing alongside Apheyr, surrounded by enemies.
Apheyr was wielding his two ice daggers with amazing skill. They tore through bone and sinew, and blood spattered on his white robes as he dealt death with each swift, graceful blow. He was almost beautiful to watch, the way every movement was controlled.
Imoen was doing almost as well, and she was beautiful to watch in a different way. Every movement was wild, imprecise, but every strike from her black staff claimed a life, powered as it was by her magic.
Nalia knew however, that she could not afford to begin fighting in combat. Not yet… she had to use her magic while she could, before the numbers grew too many to fight against… she had to reach the ogre magi with enough strength to kill them.
The sounds of battle surrounded her.
The charge of the Amnish warriors had lost its impetus. They had penetrated far into the ranks, but now the warriors were isolated in small pockets. Nalia could see warrior after warrior falling, their blood seeping into the grass, the fury in their eyes fading into the emptiness of death.
She saw Cernick leading about a hundred fighters forward, but there was little space to move. His skilled, powerful strokes severed heads, claimed lives, every moment that passed, but she also saw that he was tiring… she saw his movements become jerky, weary… as did the soldiers around him.
And then, screaming, she saw him go down, his head slashed from his body with a cruel swing from an ogre. Nalia blasted the creature into ash, without even a spell, for her magic escaped her control when she saw her friend die.
She looked once again around the battlefield, and saw that there were fewer pockets… she roared, her shout reaching above the din, and then she sent spell after spell into every enemy she could see, using every power available to her, using the magic contained within her amulets, contained within her rings…
But it was not enough… it was like battling the sea itself, fighting against these endless enemies… so numerous were they, that even her most powerful spells did little to break their morale… Nalia kicked out, and her foot got an orc in the throat, and he fell to the floor, thrashing, trying to draw breath into his ruined windpipe.
Looking back, she saw Imoen and Apheyr, blasting around them with their own magic, having defeated the foes around them. Yet even their magic could not do anything… there were so many enemies… so many.
Yet she had known this. She had known this, she had led her soldiers in, and now it was time to fight until she died, so that, just as she had said, the Council would take heed of their sacrifice, and change Amn for the better.
She charged into the thick of things before any doubts could rise.
Casting more spells, Nalia tried to break through a solid line of iron-clad ogres, knowing that she just had to get a little closer, just a little further, to kill the leaders of the horde… to break their morale… to win victory.
Even as she fought with every spell she knew however, the ogre magi merely moved away, leaving the enemy to deal with Nalia. She cursed with rage, and fire exploded from her form, burning into ash those who had sought to grapple with her.
And then the hopelessness struck her, as she saw the ogre magi's banner rise once again, about seven hundred metres away, with about seven thousand enemies between her and the banner. Nalia shook her head.
She had failed.
But even as that thought filled her mind with despair, horns from every direction sounded, and Nalia looked upwards. From the north, she saw knights charging, roaring the battle cries of the Order. They were led by the heavily armoured Anomen.
From the east, she saw an army of elven cavalry, led by someone of such beauty, who she had seen long ago. Queen Ellesime, of Suldanessllar, who charged at the head of her army, hands flickering with the magic and power given to her by the Tree of Life. With her, moved the other wizards of the elven city, singing their praises to the elven pantheon, as they attacked with their weapons into the ogre hordes.
Panic gripped the ogre-led hordes then, which was made worse when pikemen from the south charged in, led by the old paladin, Keldorn, who chanted prayers to Torm, as he attacked right and left with Carsomyr, unleashing its holy strength against his enemies.
And then Nalia heard the victorious shouts from her own warriors, as they fought with renewed hope. Now, they had a chance! Nalia charged forward, with her renewed strength, flinging spells of destruction from her fingers.
Lines crumbled, as she fought towards Ellesime, knowing as she did that the other leaders were fighting towards her… they would meet at the centre, and then they could aim for Sythillis and his dark lover.
There was true chaos, but finally, Nalia rode through a clear space in the battlefield, and saw Ellesime standing there. The elven queen's eyes widened and she turned in anger to Jaheira, saying something. Nalia saw Jaheira's eyes wide as well, and she knew that they had both assumed her dead.
"Ellesime," she shouted over the din of the battle. "Welcome! It appears that victory is in sight! Let us carve the head from the shoulders of the ogre magi, and bring peace to the south finally."
The queen nodded, and rode so that she was alongside Nalia. Through the press of fighters, rode Anomen then, with about a hundred of his knights- the rest were fighting elsewhere on the battlefield. Nalia smiled at him, relieved that he had managed to come here. Keldorn then appeared, mounted on his own horse.
Nalia said, "It is time to end this."
*
The stories of the Battle of Murann have spread far and wide, yet none have yet managed to capture the power of what happened after the leaders of each army met. As the armies clashed on the battlefield, the leaders charged forward, and, with magic and steel, shattered through the ogre magi's defence… Imoen and Apheyr joined with them, and the two of them did much to break the defence.
And just as it seemed that victory was at hand, just as it seemed that the sacrifices of thousands would be redeemed, a massive flame erupted from the ground, and dark knights charged, eyes gleaming red, chanting the name of Cyric, the Dark Sun.
They were his followers from his godly halls, and they rode towards Nalia and her weary companions with hunger, desiring to finally end the humiliating battle that was costing their master his respect amongst the gods.
Nalia stood, having no spells left, ready to die, knowing that her soul would soon be left rotting in the torture pits of demons, her weaknesses laid bare to those who would taunt her, maim her, hurt her…
The battle stopped, and they watched the knights of Cyric close the gap between them and the de'Arnise wizard. Yet when they were about to stab their lances through Nalia's heart, a single being of brilliant pink light appeared on the mortal realms, harp song pealing across the battlefield.
The knights of Cyric scattered, as Kathryn, Goddess of All Song, protected her favoured servant, Nalia de'Arnise… saviour of Amn. The servants of Lord Murder fled back to their abyssal realm, and then the armies of Amn and Suldanessllar slaughtered the enemy survivors. The blood stained the plains red, and the funeral pyres sent black smoke rising into the clear white sky, proclaiming to Amn, that Nalia de'Arnise had finally won.