Clez: Ouch… long time between updates, huh? *holds up hand* Blame me for that one, yup. Got lazy, and got distracted, and then, pain of pains, got busy with work _ Oh well… on with the show.
CHAPTER 8
"We need to inform Laire and Eiselbahr of this," Piero told them. "This changes everything. Our plan of defense… we did not think that the Dark Lord would be able to secure an alliance with the harpies."
"What do you mean?" Skinner asked. He could understand Piero's distaste of the ugly creatures, but he didn't comprehend why the denizens of Terragan had not made a pact with the harpies before now.
"Harpies have always been servants of the Dark Lord, whether he be the very first one, or the one that you destroyed," Xanthe explained, keeping her voice low. "After the original one was killed by the Crusaders, the harpies fled to the mountains, away from our lands. They live in caves, high atop the peaks of that mountain range over there." She pointed at a long, jagged line that ran across the horizon, to the west. They would have been beautiful mountains, but the dark shapes that flew around their peaks destroyed that affect, as did the sheer feeling of foreboding that surrounded the place.
"The gayaerea live there as well, the foul creatures," Piero added, peering through the wood. "I believe they are gone for the time being. We need to inform Laire and Eiselbahr. Did you see them?"
"They were headed towards the fort last we saw of them," Xanthe told him. Piero frowned. They went inside the fortress? Are they insane? He could understand if it was Laire; the man was only in his early twenties, and despite him being levelheaded and calm most of the time, he was, after all, human. And from Piero's considerable interaction with that race he knew that at twenty-one, men were more prone to testosterone poisoning. But Eiselbahr? The Elven commander was certainly old enough to know that going inside was pure foolishness.
Unless they saw something that compelled them to do so… And Piero knew Eiselbahr well enough to know that he would not take any risk he deemed unnecessary. He ran a hand through his hair, and turned back to the group.
"Xanthe, your group, go back and get the horses; wait for us," he told them, and Xanthe nodded to show she understood, as did the rest of the League who would be going with her. "We shall go in to get Laire and Eiselbahr and your friend." The last sentence he addressed to Mina and her League mates.
"Are you sure we can get in there?" Tom asked. He didn't mean to be the pessimist; it was just that from what he had seen of the tower, it was heavily guarded and more than likely it would take a well-armed — or very stupid — group to go in. "I mean, look at how many orcs there are."
"We have our means, Mr. Sawyer," Piero answered, cryptic. Skinner raised a brow, but he couldn't help himself. At least Laire's more open with us. He turned back to peer out of the wood, and he heard Xanthe give a small gasp. It was so soft it might not have been there, but Skinner heard it.
Mina frowned. Xanthe gasping was not a good sign. "What is it?"
Instead of answering, the Aclida addressed Piero, saying something in Elven that Skinner, fluent as he was, couldn't understand. Piero nodded. The two friends exchanged quick words, most of which Skinner couldn't recognize; Vicky had told him that most inhabitants of Idril Telemnar spoke in a mixture of Old Tongue and the Elven he knew well.
"Gwenwin in enninath (#1)," Piero told Xanthe. "And what worked before must be tried again," he added in English, casting a glance at the blade that Skinner wore at his hip. Skinner looked at the sword, and knew that there was something special about it. Something about it reminded him of something, but he didn't know what. He tried to remember, but it danced just out of his reach. He was brought back to reality when Piero spoke on; "Now, go. Should you encounter orcs, show no mercy, for you shall receive none."
When the other group was off, Piero turned back to his companions. "Follow me," he said, "and keep low."
Laire finished off the orc with a flourish, cutting the monster down with a swift swipe of his sword. They had been caught by a group of orcs on patrol, but the beasts had been dispatched quickly enough so that they would not raise the alarm.
Hyde breathed heavily over the bloodily mangled body of the poor orc that had chosen him as a target, and although he didn't exactly approve of Hyde's tear-them-apart method, he had to admit it was effective.
Eiselbahr stepped over one of the bodies, his mithril armour having protected him well. "I believe that is the last of the filth."
"Good riddance," Hyde commented. "They stink." Eiselbahr, at that comment, produced a dark gray ball, and placed a few among the bodies of the slain orcs.
Laire was careful not to do anything that might make too much noise, and grabbed the first orc by his wrists and began to drag the heavy brute to the side of the armory. The least they could do was to hide the bodies as much as possible. The Elven commander and Dr. Jekyll's alter ego began to help him.
Eiselbahr heard the scrape of the door against the stone floor a split second before the door was thrown open, and he dropped the orc he was moving, drawing his sword in one smooth motion. He relaxed when he saw Mina. Piero brought up the rear of the group that filed in, and was quick and curt when he explained what had happened.
"We need to return to Terragan immediately," Laire said, pushing past Hyde, who huffed. "Where are the horses?"
"Xanthe is with them," Tom revealed. Laire was halfway out the door when the arrow went through his shoulder.
Everyone leapt into action the moment the projectile knocked Laire backwards with an abrupt shout, Skinner shooting forward swiftly to catch his estranged son mid-fall. Laire tried to protest, but Skinner would have none of it, even as Hyde slammed the door shut so that everyone could gather themselves, hearing the clatter of the armour from the approaching scouting party of orcs.
"We've been spotted," Hyde grumbled, feigned nonchalance lacing his voice. He heard the arrows thudding into the door heavily, some of the tips breaking through the wooden barricade and splintering it.
"Something tells me they need better doors around here," Tom quipped humorlessly, cocking his Winchester one-handed. The weapon clicked in an affirming manner, the sound deafening in the confines of the armory, and he held it in two hands with a resolute look on his face.
Mina withdrew her two silver daggers with a growl, looking quickly to Skinner and Laire as the former fussed. "Is he all right?"
"I'm fine," Laire cut in, reaching up and pulling the arrow out with a grimace. "It will heal, with magick of course." He gave his father a knowing look, and shifted from his helping grip, only to receive an irritated glare aimed at the back of his head.
Stubborn, Skinner thought, and hesitated, before whipping out the blade from its scabbard, seeing the slight hint of a glow to its edge. He raised a brow, and murmured slightly to himself, feeling the comfortable weight in his hands and finding it most enjoyable. It was like he had been born to hold this weapon; as though it had been made for his very hands.
Piero gave his wings a prepared flap on either side of him, the feathers rustling. He whipped out the blades he had concealed in his belt, spinning them in his palms until the points where down, reversed in his hands, ready for a stabbing motion.
Eiselbahr's fine sword was still at the ready, and he glanced back at his companions, raising his brows, head tilted to listen. "There are many… is everyone prepared?"
He received affirming nods from all gathered, even Laire, who wore a look of deep concentration, hands balled into determined fists, blood seeping steadily – but apparently unnoticed – from his wounded shoulder.
With an inclination of the head to Hyde, the door was thrown open, and Eiselbahr allowed Piero to soar out of it, narrowly missing a hail of badly aimed arrows in his passing. He swirled skyward, and then dove for the attack, blades gleaming.
The elf was next out of the door, spinning in a cleaving arc that succeeded in relieving one foe of his hideous head. Black blood spilled freely, even as Hyde roared through, swinging his arms like giant meaty clubs in order to barrel his numerous fierce rivals to the ground with the force of an anvil.
Mina was next, growling ferociously, only to have an orc swing at her with a wickedly serrated sword, its rusty edge aimed for her neck. A deafening crack like thunder was heard, and Tom stood in the doorway with his rifle raised, watching the orc give a gurgle, before falling to the ground, a fatal hole blown in his skull. His blade fell from his hand.
Laire threw himself into action, magick weaving in his hands as he cried out the words to summon the forces. Skinner was close to him, wielding his weapon with astounding grace and deftness. It was as though he had been using it for years, trained from infancy. Orcs fell one after the other to his weapon, and littered the floor around his feet.
Eiselbahr and Piero covered one another, the Aseyewrn diving from the sky to pick off 'cunning' orcs who would sneak up behind the elf with a vicious intention. They received killing blows, without mercy. Piero was deadly with his skill, weaving in and out of his companions to protect them, and avoiding arrows that soared towards him with the intention of either piercing his wings or his heart.
Tom fired off the remaining seven rounds in his Winchester swiftly, downing the foul beasts as they drew towards him, tossing the weapon aside when it emptied, whipping out his twin pistols with a flourish, before letting loose with a hail of bullets, even as Laire snapped an enchantment, and threw a knowing smile towards the American, who vaguely remembered the words from years before. He knew now that he could pull on these triggers so long as the orcs kept coming, and he would be in no danger of clicking on empty.
The orcs continued to close in, as though endlessly supplied from the Dark Lord himself, spilling forth from the very mouth of hell. They roared fiercely as they approached, and the League, along with their allies, found their exits thinning, their backs pressing together in supportive combat, forming a circle of defense.
"They just keep coming!" Skinner shouted over the bellowing, sword swinging in an offensive nature, slicing into the creatures as they drew too close for comfort. He could smell their foul breath, making him want to retch, drawing a grimace from him as they revealed their yellowed teeth.
Eiselbahr practically mirrored Skinner, on the opposite side of the tight protective circle, as Laire drew into the middle in order to weave the magick from a more protected position, speaking the language to himself, his solid pupils concentrated, focused on his task. Mina slashed with her daggers, Piero hovering low on the other side of the circle to mirror her, their twin blades gleaming in the wan light. Hyde roared insults at the orcs as he clubbed at them, whilst Tom was on the other side, arms wide at an angle, picking off the beasts with precisely aimed bullets from the Colts, his eyes darting around for danger.
"There's too many!" Tom called, hating to be the pessimist… again. "We're trapped!"
Eiselbahr's keen eyes darted around, and though he hated to do it, he had to agree; "Sawyer is right! Our exits are blocked, and we are surrounded."
One of the orcs nearby barked out a rasping laugh, only to have the end of Skinner's sword rammed into his throat as a reward.
And still they kept coming, surging forward with unbelievable persistency. Their roars were reaching a deafening crescendo, and Tom winced. It was playing havoc on his ears, and his temples throbbed, even as he heard a screech, and turned his green eyes skyward. "Oh god, look!"
"Harpies!" Piero growled in frustration, snatching back the American's rifle from the orc who had chosen to claim it, after stabbing him in the chest with his dagger. He watched as Laire shot off focus magick towards the harpies, doomed to fail as they ducked around it, letting it crackle into nothingness behind them as they started to swoop.
We're done for, Skinner thought dejectedly, swallowing the lump of defeat in his throat. It seemed hopeless, all chance of escape and future victory lost. Though the blade in his hands filled his heart with an undeniable warmth and confidence, he could not help but wonder what hope they had of surviving.
Tom gave a growl when one of the orcs pressed in too close, catching the very edge of his left arm with a blade before receiving Mina's twin daggers in the side of its neck and face. It fell with a wet thud to the floor, and Tom quickly looked to his arm. He'd survive the graze, but… he was starting to lose his optimism.
Their hearts and minds froze as one when a ringing bellow of a roar resonated off the tower and ground all about, piercing their bodies and somehow lifting their spirits.
Looking skyward – along with a good deal of the confused orcs – they watched as the harpies exploded in fire, screeching agonizingly as they fell, burning to the ground, black leathery wings turning to ash and letting off a foul stench.
All heads turned to the enormous shadow that cast over them, and instead of a crazed gayaerea, as Piero had first suspected – given that the creatures were prone to bouts of insanity – he was greeted by his own jaw dropping at what his eyes saw.
"I do not believe it…"
Eiselbahr almost dropped his fine elven sword in shock, his heart skipping a beat as his eyes welled with disbelief. I thought them all lost. His mind rambled with inconsistencies as the shape arched through the sky, serpentine tail flickering with a flash of blue and white scale as the reptillian maw cracked wide open and let loose a barrage of fireballs that bombed into the orc ranks, sending them soaring in all directions, a flurry of broken limbs and bodies, their screeching music to the ears of the League.
"What is it?" Tom asked, his heart singing with newfound hope and optimism, his guns lowering as the orcs squealed with fright and confusion, scattering to the winds as the shape careened back over the small group, picking up a handful – or rather clawful of the beasts – and crushing them with sharp talons, blood spraying, before it sent the bodies tumbling like dead weights back to the ground with a clear, ringing roar of triumph.
The orcs were retreating, their bravery and sense of victory lost to this new and unexpected monstrous ally. It settled down with a stretch of its vast wings, bones in the sails cracking with the exertion as it shook off its body as if from a great slumber… which was indeed the case, as Eiselbahr and Piero were well aware.
The elf and the Aseyewrn were the first to remove their weaponry from sight, sliding it away silently and without hesitation, whereas the League was a little more wary.
The beast was a good thirty feet long, all scales and armour that glinted beneath the failing sunlight. Its head rested atop a craned neck, two long horns stretching back from the base of its skull. Its face was narrow, ending in a maw filled with dagger-like teeth, and a flickering red tongue. Its wings were colossal, ending in a barbed claw on each apex, stretching out like canvasses that could cast a shadow over an entire fortress. A mane of bony spikes ran down its neck from its skull, all the way down its back to its flaring tail. It turned itself around on four large feet, tipped with three clawed toes, leaving large imposing prints in the ground as it moved, squelching mud and orc blood beneath it. It looked to them with slitted yellow eyes, and blinked slowly, grumbling in a non-threatening manner, deep in its scaled throat. Its entire body was cast in beautiful shades and hues of blue and white, from the tip of its nose, to the end of its tail.
Eiselbahr practically stumbled forward, eyes brimming with awed tears, until he bent down on one knee before the mighty dragon, bowing his head in respect, uttering an acknowledgement.
Piero inclined his head, eyes closed, in a delicate bow, as did Laire.
Skinner and the others looked to one another in confusion, before Laire threw them a scathing look, and they bowed their heads briefly, not really understanding why. True, the dragon had just saved their lives, but why were they treating it as a king?
Eiselbahr stood, just as the gigantic beast lowered its head, letting the elf rest a hand on its very nose tip.
"Minaithnir," he said clearly, "we thought you lost, my Lord."
The dragon grumbled something low in response, making slight clucking noises with its tongue… dialogue?
Eiselbahr's face broke into an overjoyed smile. "You have returned."
(#1) Translation: Long years have passed.
