Disclaimer--I do not own the forgotten realms setting, but I do own the characters used within the story. In other words, DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT TOUCHING THEM! I SWEAR I'LL SIT ON YOU!
AIDEN'S FLAME
A.N.--See if you can figure it out!
Chapter 9
As a group of eighteen drow boldly approached the castle that had been carved in stone, three guards threw off their piwafis, shedding their cover and calling, "Halt."
The group obeyed and the other drow came closer. "Who are you and why do you seek The Exiles?" he asked.
A drow stepped forth from the ranks of the marching troop. He said, "We have left Menzoberrazen. We seek refuge with you, who face our true enemies and attempt to reclaim the land above."
The drow sentry looked the other over, then nodded. "Come with me," he said.
The guard turned and began to walk away, the troop of soldiers marching behind. They reached and entered the castle quickly, without incident. As they walked into the entry hall, the drow sentry called a halt.
Several guards stepped forward to question them, one going so far as to draw his sword on the group. "Who is this?" one asked of the sentry.
"They come to aid us in our fight," the sentry replied.
"And the lady?"
At that point, one of the drow from the ranks joined The Exiles in their discussion. "A priestess, whom fell from Lloth's favor. We were ordered to strip her of her items and leave her in the Underdark to be killed, but we thought we could find…other uses for her." One guard stepped toward the drow priestess, a stupid grin on his face, and began to speak.
But no one knew just what he would have said, because before he could form the first syllable, a third drow came from a hallway, with two guards in close tow.
The look of outrage on his face baffled The Exiles, who simply stared at this new arrival. "What are you doing?" he screamed. "They are hu-" he was cut off as a dart struck him dead in the throat. His two guards were killed almost instantly by a column of fire and The Exile sentry was struck in the chest by a bolt of lightning before the drow realized what had happened.
Turning, the drow lieutenant, who had seen his brother, the sentry, go down from the lightning, saw eighteen human men and one woman standing in place of the drow. Seventeen, he corrected, for one was an elf. A skilled one, and young, he realized. The elf wove in and out of the melee, delivering killing blows to more than a few drow.
The elf carried a sword with a glowing amethyst in the pommel.
Aiden walked aside Faridim, Flamecaller, and Zenalic in the front rows of the troop. They walked determinedly, but not with haste. Four of them had taken minor wounds, but all still walked, and did so proudly. They were, after all, defending their people and their city, a feat of no small honor.
"I am worried that the drow who ran off will raise the entire castle," Flamecaller confessed.
"Do not worry, they are a mere ten-score in arms," Zenalic replied, enjoying teasing the overly worried man. "They will not all be here, and if they are, most will be in sleep. Mayhaps those will even kill each other if the guard does raise them--drow do not take well to being woken by or for anyone."
"Let us hope so," Faridim said. "I have no will to fight against drow with odds of 10 to one in their favor."
They reached the huge marble staircase and began to ascend it, not meeting a single drow until they reached the third floor. There, more than twenty drow stood, lead by the guard captain who had fled in the earlier fray.
"You will all die here, humans!" he called to them as they stood at the plateau, barely wide enough for all of them to be upon, eyeing each other but not yet charging each other.
Aiden saw slight hand movements from the wizards in the group as well as Zenalic. He bowed his head slightly to Faridim, who immediately stepped forward and began to verbally parley with the drow.
Aiden focused himself, his eyes glazing over and his body wavering back and forth. He reached out and brought the three wizards into sync with himself as he gripped his sword.
As one they finished their spells, and the magics lashed out. Aiden slashed his sword and from it flew a line of purple fire. One of the wizard's spells summoned four demons, abolethes, behind the drow. The other human wizard called forth a rain of hail on top of the drow, but none of theirs were as deadly as Zenalic's. She had cast an illusion to make part of the platform fall away on one side, and the other side look larger.
At least eight drow were pushed off before the drow innate magic resistance took over. The human warriors ran forth, led by Aiden, whose sword had begun to radiate even more power as purple flames covered the blade. As the others all threw themselves into the dazed drow, Faridim entered a duel with the drow guard captain.
Aiden blocked the scimitar of the first drow as the flames from his blade lashed out, burning a crater into the dark elf's chest.
Another drow slashed at him with his dual scimitars. Aiden blocked, shattering his scimitars. Slashing back, he cut off the drow's head.
The abolethes all disappeared as the spell, which Aiden now believed to have been an illusion, fell away. The battle ended so quickly Aiden was left searching for opponents to quench his bloodlust.
But the only fight left was between Faridim and the drow lieutenant.
Aiden moved to watch the fight. A circle of guards had surrounded the two and taken up a creative chant of "Faridim! Faridim! Faridim!"
One of the guards In the circle moved to allow Aiden view just in time for him to see Faridim lop off the drow's head.
Everyone cheered and shouted, causing Faridim to blush and bow.
As the cheering died down, Aiden called out, "Five minutes of rest! Injured line up here! Clerics! Get to work!"
The men all sat and most pulled out flasks, drinking and resting before the final battle.
Flamecaller, Faridim, and Zenalic all walked over to Aiden. He raised an eyebrow as they looked at him expectantly. "What?" he asked.
"You are the commander," Faridim said.
"I do not command these men, they are yours, and yours!" he pointed at Faridim and Flamecaller.
Both men only shook their heads. "They have come for you, Aiden," said Flamecaller.
"Now light the fire," Faridim said. "They fight for you, and may die for you. Ten-score drow may await them at the next turn. We have one chance; Light the fire. In each of these men lies strength, honor, bravery… That is why they are here.
"If you want to win, if you want to live, light the fire of passion, of pride, in their bellies! Do not make them only fight, make them kill! For you, Aiden, make them fight with such fury the drow run from their roars!"
"Why," Aiden asked of Faridim, "my friend, could you not simply say 'give a speech'?"
Faridim smiled sheepishly as Aiden took Zenalic's hand in his own.
"Hear me," Aiden called. Every head turned to him. "Look at each other and tell me, what do you see?
"Do you see humans? Do you see men? Do you see your neighbors? For I do not.
"I see warriors. Not sellswords, not brigands, not mere men, but warriors! I see honor, pride, and bravery!" Aiden was sure to make eye contact with every one of them.
"On this day, we may well die. But before me I do not see men who rush to their death. I do not see men who embrace it. I do not see men who run from it. I see warriors, who raise their blades and dare death to come: men of honor!" he shouted.
Lowering his voice, he continued almost mournfully, "I say again: We may die on this day. But I say this to you all: If I am to die, I could have no better death than in defense of my home, with you, true warriors, at my side!"
Aiden threw his right hand into the air and in it appeared his flaming sword.
Every warrior there drew his sword and raised it into the air, cheering for their leader, their city, and calling for the blood of the drow who challenged both.
A.N.--This is a double post, so keep reading! BTW, did you figure it out before I told you?