Thank you to all those that read my first instalment of Dragon's Blood, this I my first Fanfiction so I would appreciate reviews to see if I am on the right track with this.
Azal Coldsword (a slightly derogatory War-name given to him as, unlike many Mardu warriors, Azal rarely got carried away in battle and ensured that he was able to command the rest of the warriors) paced slowly towards the baroque bone throne placed near to the edge of the ridge, the spinal cords arcing upwards from the back of the throne fittingly showcasing the seat's occupant as he surveyed the gathering of irregular Mardu warriors arrayed before him: squabbling youths, most barely into their teenage years, jostled for position at the front of the gathering; bloodthirsty orcs and sneaky goblins on the left flank of the mass; shouting men and women made up the bulk of the force at its centre; with horse-riders making up the right flank, their notoriously rebellious mounts snorting and pawing the ground.
The steam rising up from the collective breaths of the huge army shrouded the one on the throne in mist, although Azal knew very well who was seated there. As he approached and knelt next to the right hand of the throne, the figure on the left snorted derisively but was quickly silenced by a baleful glance of the throne's occupant – Zurgo Helmsmasher.
The monstrous orc radiated an air of absolute power, and those that dared to challenge it were brutally slain by the Khan of the Mardu, as he tolerated no dissent. The Khan sat with his powerful arms gripping the edge of the throne, and Azal had absolutely no doubt that Zurgo could simply crush the seat should he be so inclined. A deep, threatening voice like the sound of thousands of volcanoes erupting and pledging their allegiance to the Khan spoke suddenly as Azal finished kneeling.
"Have your scouts brought further news of the Temur force?" Azal stiffened slightly as the use of the word "your", as it signified that any failure would be his to bear alone – and failure was not tolerated by the Helmsmasher.
"They have reported an increase in the amount of Temur activity – it seems that another army has arrived to bolster the settlement," Azal grinned slightly,
"More for us to kill."
"My thoughts exactly," the Khan snarled, turning his fiery eyes upon the figure stood at his left. The tall human named Carrok Warblade (named because of his recklessness and eagerness to fight) met his Khan's eyes for a second and then looked down. The two hands of Zurgo were the perfect counterpart to each other – whilst Azal was cold and calculating (by Mardu standards) due to his time spent as a Sultai captive, Carrok was impetuous and emotion-fuelled.
The two despised one another, and although Zurgo showed no open favouritism between them (it often seemed that he often enjoyed the altercations between to two), Carrok had been consulted more frequently after his victories securing the new expansion into Temur territory. Although younger than Azal, Carrok still had two sons – twins – one cast in the image of his father while the other was an enigmatic magic wielder. The fact that Azal had been unable to find a suitable woman to continue his bloodline proved a source of constant enjoyment for the brutish Mardu general.
The Khan's gruff voice interrupted his reverie, as he informed Carrok that he would have the honour of leading the battle. Although he expected as much, bitter disappointment still thrust its icy claws into Azal's pride, as the Khan began his speech.
"Mardu warriors," he shouted, the din from below the ridge instantly dying, as if sound itself bent before his draconian will as he paced purposefully towards the edge of the ridge. "Today we hunt."
And with that, the speech was over. It never failed to amaze Azal that his Khan could use so few words but evoke such a sense of absolute power and authority. Not for Zurgo were inspiring speeches, and the Mardu clan - his Mardu clan - respected that – why waste time with words when there was killing to be done?
A resounding war cry erupted from the crowd gathered below him, shaking the snow from the nearby mountains and making the air shudder with the force of the shout. Zurgo raised his arms and basked in the adoration of his warriors, adding his voice to the echoing bellow that slammed through the Temur Frontier. The Mardu were coming, and there was no hiding from them.
Kaldros ran alongside his brother and another aspirant, a fierce valkyrie called Atasha, famed in their training division for her brutal usage of a twin-bladed glaive with serrated edges. The mage himself held a slender short-sword that glinted in the flamelight emanating from the torches held by some of his unit of aspirants, as it was nearing night time – however there was no moonlight to illuminate the warband, the weak light eclipsed by the huge and brooding snow-clouds.
"What the clan leaders see in this depressing land is beyond me," Jakhan uttered quietly, the burly twin carrying a large, single-bladed axe that Kaldros was unable to even pick up (much to his brother's amusement), let alone swing.
"It is not about the land, you oaf, it is about the Temur themselves," sniggered Atasha "Do you really think that the Khan has any interest in this kind of territory?"
Although her words were harsh, Atasha was one of the few Mardu Kaldros could actually call friend, due to his disinterest in the constant posturing favoured by the others yet to earn a War-name – her wit also kept him entertained. However the young mage knew she was wrong this time, he could feel the rumble of power coursing through the earth. He stopped, suddenly, as he actually focussed onto the energy of the Temur territory. Placing his hand to the snow-covered ground, Kaldros could feel the unyielding strength of nature just waiting to be unleashed against these upstart interlopers. A sharp sting juddered through his small body, an emotion that he rarely felt but was welling up in abundance throughout his mind: fear. Kaldros recoiled from the ground, staggering backwards but falling over, his eyes, normally innocent and playful, were now consumed with despair.
How can we fight against this? The mage thought, How can we defy nature itself?
Jakhan, noticing his brother falling behind, snorted and yelled backwards
"Having trouble keeping up, little brother? Want me to carry you?" Jakhan often used the term "Little brother", even though he was fully aware how much it irritated Kaldros. However when he turned around after the lack of sarcastic response and noticed the look in Kaldros's eyes, Jakhan instantly changed from posturing rival to caring brother, and ran back to the mage.
"Are you alright, Kaldros?" Jakhan knelt down and placed his large hands on his brother's thin shoulders, pulling him forwards, abruptly realising how bony and fragile his younger brother was, how unsuited for battle the mage would be. Jakhan imagined a world without his twin, finding it hollow and monotone without his brother's intellect and his wise personality coupled with his youthful playfulness. He resolved to protect his fraternal twin at all costs. As Jakhan was coming to this conclusion, another series of revelations were occurring in Kaldros's mind:
This is just another challenge! He realised instantly – Zurgo is trying to prove how powerful the Mardu really is by not just taking over Temur territory, by completely obliterating the resistance – if the Mardu can defeat the Temur, the representation of the land itself, then the rest of the clans will have no choice but to fear us. We don't even need to destroy the Temur, as simply by defeating their mightiest army, the Mardu will do what every other clan has failed.
Steely determination clouded his eyes, and shrugging of his confused brother, Kaldros stood up.
"Thank you for your concern, dear brother, but I am fine," he held out a hand to Jakhan, who took it and rose to his feet, bemused as to his twin's sudden change in demeanour.
"Let's go and earn a worthy War-name, and make our father and clan proud!" Kaldros exclaimed, and Jakhan smiled, and in spite of the fact that he had no clue as the what just happened - he was proud of his brother, knowing that Kaldros had overcome whatever troubled him and that his twin had strength that he did not even understand, far beyond that of his fragile frame.