Chapter 20:
Feral's War
With multiple Gemstone Vales under my control, money is no longer an issue and I have put that wealth to good use. My armies stand strong, the best trained and most skilled. My Dungeons are the finest that this world has ever seen, each the product of countless hours of construction and design. This pestilence led by Feral would be searching for me, especially since I had stolen half of her warriors from her in the space of a solitary day. I found it amusing to watch her warriors searching en masse and having no success as they had yet to consider searching the far bank of the river. Her lack of intelligence is astounding and while she stumbled around like a blind man, I used my magics to peer in her domain as well. Where mine was designed to ensure the comfort of my minions and to ease their lives somewhat by grouping their preferred facilities close to their lairs – Warlocks with easy access to the Library and a fair distance from the noise of the Workshop, and of course vice versa for my Bile Demons – hers seemed to lack any logic or layout, with rooms of bizarre shapes and sizes, some too large for her use, other far too small to be considered practical.
Many differences in construction style could be found between her dungeon and mine. Hers seemed to lack planning, but it was noticeable that there were a large number of right angel turns… to somehow aid in the defense, but the impression that I was beginning to form was that she had no idea what she was doing… Granted there were some areas, like the core area around her Dungeon Heart, that would be very difficult to break in to. That at least had been well designed. But beyond that, the entire place was a mess, and it would be difficult for her to reinforce different areas of her own domain, even with the Keeper's hand, if she was suddenly forced to fight a battle on two fronts. She had multiple rooms but nearly a three fifths of that capacity was underutilized… her army had truly been vast before she had conquered this Land, but it was now a miniscule fraction of its former size. When I finally built a bridge across the river to assault and annihilate this pest and her numerically inferior warriors, there would be plenty of room to maneuver. But it was not to be. I felt it, the tingling at the back of my mind that alerted me to the attempts of someone, or something, that was trying to peer through the shadows of the underground with magic, and that the wards upon the walls of my domain were blocking the spell, but from the intensity of this probing spell, it would only be a matter of minutes before the wards would give way and allow her to peer in to my Dungeon.
It did not matter that she could not actually see in to my domain, but that she had found all that she needed to find. The warding spells that blocked her attempts to view my Domain would also outline the area that was protected by such a ward… which would also expose the only entry point in to my Dungeon, through a long maze of crisis-crossing and looping passages, with every single inch of it covered in a variety of pain causing and nausea inducing traps to weaken and bludgeon any invading force, before any invaders would have a chance to actually engage my warriors. I don't like leaving myself open to attacks and other unexpected visits and surprises. This magical search was somewhat surprising considering it had taken her almost three days to consider looking on the other side of the river. Smarter Keepers would have probably sent out massive search teams and begun using magic to hunt for their foe days ago.
Definitely, not the sharpest knife in a drawer. But it didn't matter. I was finally going to get the opportunity to field test my new toys, by carving them through flesh and bone. The grin I wore was not something that you would want to see. It would definitely have made small children cry in terror, before they were petrified to stone. The report from my sentries came moments later of a Bridge that had appeared from the Northern Bank of the Lava River and that was rapidly being built across, and it appeared to be heading directly towards the only possible point of entry. It took me only moments to connect my mind to the relevant persons in my employ, "Mentors: Our presence has been discovered! Prepare defense!"
"By your will Keeper," hissed Gazz, eager for battle, even as he roared to his brethren, rousing the Dragons and Demon Spawn. I could hear, almost feel them, unsheathing their claws as several gouts of flame suddenly scorching the ceiling as they signaled their readiness, and hunger for battle.
"It shall be done Keeper," replied my Head Librarian. He stood, cracked his spine from top to bottom before reaching in his robes and withdrew a book. What the hell is he going to do with a book? He did the truly unexpected: He dropped it. It was as if he had let off a dozen Sun Burst spells, as every Warlock within the forty square meters Lair bolted upright from sleep, and three more researching in the adjacent library came running in the room. Admittedly, they all looked a little miffed at having their precious sleep disrupted and they took perhaps a further thirty seconds before they reported that they were battle ready.
From the different Lairs scattered across my underground empire, minions of all shapes and forms awoke from their slumber and moved to their pre-assigned defensive positions, with some using their innate abilities to hasten their movement from Lair to that particular position. I have always disliked being forced on the defensive, where you have to react to your enemy and whatever actions that they may take. I prefer to maintain the initiative, and wherever possible, to force my enemy to react to me. There is only one way in my actual dungeon, beyond the massive maze that is designed to deter and if possible, kill intruders before their presence became a problem. Once you got in to my Dungeon, you had to know which turns to take, and how to actually navigate through my Dungeon. I would have to find an opening and use it to disrupt the strategies of this pest. I only wish for a canister of something that would allow me to annihilate this pest at a distance.
No matter. She would be making plenty of mistakes. The first was sending her first wave of troops into the fray without adequate support. Granted, most of them were low level troops, and the more "expendable" minions, namely Giant Spiders, Flies and also Beetles. Most likely, to plot and outline the maze so that her true combat forces would not get worn down before our respective armies met in combat. She had perhaps five or six of these waves of expendable warriors, and they knew their place as they moved slowly and with caution, taking their last steps in my maze.
Feral's forces were massive in numbers and all were reasonably skilled, and she seemed to have replenish her forces despite the losses inflicted. There was no visible support line, which gave me momentary pause. Even an army that relied exclusively on superior numbers would have difficulty to maintain momentum without something to suppress the defense, which would allow wave assault to carry the day. Scanning through the maze, the clue I sough made its presence felt, as not far behind the main body of the enemy, my traps were still being triggered, principally the gas traps that filled their surroundings with noxious fumes that rival the debilitating stench from a bile demon, in addition to the occasional bolts of white-yellow lightning that arced gracefully around the narrow corridors, bouncing from their source through their targets and off walls in pyrotechnic displays.
Warlock invisibility spells most likely. I channeled more mana to my Sight of Evil spell, and it proved to be sufficient to provide a vague moving outline of the group of warlocks that trailed behind, perhaps ten feet from the main battle line. They were about to be on the receiving end of a group of very pointed bones. Opening the psychic link to Cepat, my lead Imp, I gave him my orders, even as the Keeper's Hand swept up a dozen Skeleton Warriors. My Imps appeared just behind the main group of the enemy and the wooden doors, still in their neat little box like packages, suddenly filled the corridor, creating an effective impromptu barricade. Granted, a single wooden door will break and shatter within one or two decent strikes, but when a corridor is suddenly flooded with eight of them, placed back to back, it creates a barricade that is of sufficient size and strength to isolate an enemy, long enough for my forces to take out these bastards. Well, if not remove them utterly from the field of battle, then at the very least cut their numbers and reduce their effectiveness when their magic joins the battle.
My face was stretched in a twisted parody of a smile, as I licked my lips, noting for the first time that my teeth were no longer just teeth, but now something more akin to actual fangs. They had grown, longer and were sharper… similar to the incisors of a Vampire perhaps… but I daresay mine were infinitely sharper. My thoughts became action as the Keeper's Hand swept up a third of my skeletal force taking twelve - a full company - and dropped them in the ranks of the isolated enemy, creating the desired result: Pandemonium.
Skeleton Warriors are much hardier troops for several, important, if simplistic reasons. They are constructed of bones and mana – which gives them a resistance to any kind of slashing or cutting blow. The high infusion of mana in their being means that any magical attack – and all magical attacks are mana based – prove to be far less effective as mana cannot be used to effectively destroy itself. Granted, some mana is of course destroyed as the two separate forms interact, but the majority of it simply fades away, as if erased from existence. And against Warlocks, and most likely the Demon Spawn hidden by the formers invisibility spells, Skeleton Warriors are amongst the best that I can send against them.
The other things that makes mindless – or relatively mindless undead – such effective warriors in general terms is that they will fight and keep fighting, even if a limb happens to get blown or falls off. These semi-mindless types are also far more effective since the only way that they can truly be killed is if they die in combat… it's part of the curse that keeps them bound to me and the Black Flame. They must die with the blood of the enemy upon their blades, or their already tormented souls will be sent screaming in the realms of chaos and darkness, where they will be tortured for an eternity. It's dark, vile magic and I use it because it is what I have to do to return home. Only the Avatar has the keys to unlock the gateways that can return me.
Their sudden appearance in the ranks of the enemy, as they appeared from seemingly nowhere, caused panic, which my skeletons exploited fully, unleashing their full undead, maddened fury upon their enemy, their bone swords singing their way through flesh and bone, cleaving skulls of Warlocks while they also cleaved limbs from bodies of several Demon Spawn. They were well lead it seemed, as their lines reacted quickly, pulling back and contracting as claws flashed against the shields of my Skeleton Warriors, spells hammering in their mana hardened bones. My skeleton warriors would win simply through numerical superiority, a victory I ensured by dropping in another eight Skeleton Warriors at their rear. It looked as if the twelve enemy warriors would last another few minutes before they were slaughtered. Skeleton Warriors are expendable, provided that they get the job done.
With her forces now split and a third of it in the process of being massacred, I turned my attention to where the battle lines would collide, noting with satisfaction that my warriors stood in ranks, the shields of my remaining Skeleton Warriors locked, arm over arm to create a solid wall, with my Bile Demons just ahead of them, where their deadly gas weapons can be deployed to maximum effect. The end of the maze opened in a massive cavern that I had constructed to allow for me to mass my warriors, allowing us to fight as a coordinated team, as opposed to the mixed rabble that my opponent seemed to favor.
The last and closest perimeter alarm trap had been triggered, meaning that they were massed just beyond the final turn in the maze before the exit. Already armed and armored, I had nothing else to do, but to teleport to the front line, where I would lead this assault. But I deliberately teleported to the rear lines of my army as I wanted my warriors to see and know that I fight with them, that I am no high minded, ivory tower intellectual type of Keeper.
There was a subtle nudging amongst my Warlocks and fewer Dragons and Demon Spawn as I moved forward, their ranks parting to let me pass. I shouted to them while I walked amongst them, "Warriors of the Black Flame! Hold your line, and do not falter! If you suddenly feel darkness surround you, if you hear nothing more, if you feel nothing, then you have nothing to fear: For you are already dead!" I heard laughter erupt at that, and it was a good sign. High spirits and morale, with true skill and ability, my warriors would need both, "Hold the line and stay together!"
The enchanted plate armor I wore made every foot fall echo around me, and in my own ears, every step was a crack of thunder, even as I drew my blade, my pet project finally finished. My newest sword bore a heavy wide blade with serration along its length, perfect for ripostes that would tear and shred the flesh they touch, the hooked edges giving off a faint glow, that gave the impression of a sword that pulsed with energy, almost as if it was alive, like the Demon Blade Kulsavar Dietros that had send dozens of Lords, Champions and Heroes to their graves.
I stepped, and my warriors parted like the Red Sea had done before Moses in the Bible. I chuckled quietly, my face hidden behind the helm that left only my eyes visible to the enemy, a fire glowing within them, one that radiated the anger and hatred that I would vent upon my foes. Already, I had called them, and they were scant inches below the surface. I nodded briefly to my Mentors who stood side by side, a deadly duo in any battle for as long as they worked together, exploiting a telepathic link between them.
I focused my energy after clearing my mind as Gazz had told me, and Drahuliska had shown me, and found that both were correct in that the mana was easier to channel, and purer, allowing for faster and certainly more deadly spell casting. The fireball between my hands grew in size, until I commanded it with a whisper, causing it to separate in two, before allowing them both to grow yet again, and then dividing them yet again, until a dozen of the small fire spheres levitated in the air above my left hand, my sword held casually in my right. I twirled it experimentally, as in my mind I registered that the pack of enemies were scant meters from pouring into the cavern, and their doom.
"Stand by!" I shouted to the massed ranks, already taking up defensive formations. It's what my enemy would expect, that we would stand like cliffs before the sea, unmoving and unbreakable, "Shield Line!" Fingers were getting itchy as they could hear the enemy begin their final charge towards us, "Defenses!" As had occurred once before, magic played into place across the front rank of my forces, encasing the entire shield line in a protective layer of mana that shimmered faintly in the air, a gentle golden tinge, like the first rays of a new dawn. On the morrow, it would be a red dawn upon this rock.
The enemy finally cleared into the chamber, spreading out as they charged, their own lines forming on the move, a bestial tide of voices and roars, as they called for our deaths. Their spell fire was woefully thin and spread out to far to do more than bounce off the shields and defensive magic already in place. I said nothing as training and precision caused my forces to act as one, holding the line as one as a blitzkrieg of spells lanced outward, spells sizzling through the air, leaving blurs upon ones retina's as they streaked towards their targets. Most of the opening barrage was absorbed, deflected or dissipated against a myriad of defenses as was expected. My line of shields had taken two steps forward, stomping their feet, signaling their readiness to charge, as the enemy would expect.
They never saw it coming as the second salvo of spells proved to be damningly effective, already weakened shields splintering beneath the second barrage, magical defenses vaporizing beneath the abuse, while my own lines of shields condensed suddenly, the first rank of skeleton warriors dropping to their knees, while the second braced them from behind. They charged into a wall of blades that immediate took its toll, eviscerating and killing, allowing the sour smell of blood and copper to filter through the air, mingling with the aftermath odor of so many spells having been fired in such narrow confines.
Their lack of supporting fire indicated the success of my initial ambush against their supporting troops, and these fools no doubt had no idea that they had no supporting line. Unfortunately, it seemed that I had no skeletons left to complete the encirclement and slaughter of this pestilent foe. No matter. Any unfortunate enough to survive would be offered to the Dark God of Blood, Skulls and Warfare this night, "Second Line!"
Behind me, the third and final line of Skeletons took shape, forming a second shield wall, defensive magic whispering across it, as the first began to buckle beneath the press of bodies that threatened to overwhelm it. I roared once, fire snaking down the length of my gunblade as my shield wall charged forward to meet my enemy, molten fire flying from my hand.
Both forces collided together, the blue and white clad opponents of Keeper Feral breaking like waves upon the rock composed of the moving line of shield that bore the black and gold battle standard of the Black Flame as steel blades crashed against bone sword, blunt maces finding their counterparts, cries of victory, pain and death adding to the noise of bloody close combat. Blood arced through the air, as the Keeper of the Black Flame struck hard, carved open a single opponent, splitting him from crotch to the roof of his mouth, before cleaving into the enemy with a ruthless abandon, as hard training and sparring merged with his already brutal instincts, the beast caged within unleashed.
He sidestepped the arcing slash of claws from an enemy demon spawn, before a backhanded reverse cut separated one of those forelegs from the rest of the creature, before his left hand came up in a brilliant flat-palmed deflection of an enemy bone sword before the heavy blade cleaved in and caught upon the ribs of an enemy skeleton warrior. Keeper Firestorm's eyes burned pure red, even as the skeleton seemed to cackle in glee. It was in that moment that the Keeper of the Black Flame pulled back smoothly with his right forefinger upon the double set trigger.
The Dragon Gunblade roared again, as the internal mechanisms struck the charged powder of a single cartridge that sent the bottled explosive forced down the length of the entire blade, with devastating results. The Skeleton was obliterated, the contained force radiating out of the blade causing a full two second lull in the battle as warriors from both sides stared in shock or horror… where once stood a skeleton, now there were only a pair of shattered leg bones, the rest of the undead abomination having been turned to a cloud of white powder that flirted through the air without a care in the world.
The immense recoil would have broken the wrist and perhaps the bones, in the forearms of any normal, mortal man. But the Keeper's strength proved to be formidable as the weapon barely shook in his single handed grip, even as he leaped up, spun through the air and cut the Demon Spawn he had crippled in half with a second roar from the Dragon Gunblade that merged with his own roared, wordless challenge. The battle was rejoined as both friend and foe gave the walking pillar of steel a wide berth, none eager to have anything to do with the vicious brawler. The entire stunning routine had taken only a matter of seconds.
The battle raged for several more minutes, until the forces of the enemy found themselves fighting back to back, desperately trying to cover each as they were rapidly pushed back to the maze, forming defensive lines, much as the Black Flame had formed at the outset, but refused to push outwards, only cutting those who came close enough as they traded ground for time. In the brief moment of respite, an enemy spell caster channeled up a powerful bolt of lightning and sent it into the thickest concentration of black and gold clad warriors, blasting and hurling them away.
As suddenly as the assault had begun, they began to withdraw and the Keeper of the Black Flame, surrounded by his army, continued his advance towards them, stalking and uncaring as enemy spells swept over him. Gunblade raised high overhead; he swung down at the offending Warlock, cleaving diagonally down through its skull, the blade tearing out where its left hip would have been. Snarling he kicked the corpse towards his retreating foes in disgust. A pathetic excuse for an army. No doubt the result of having a pathetic excuse for a Keeper… but he withheld judgment for the moment, determined to test his mettle against hers in personal combat.
He turned to face his warriors as the remnants fled in to the distance. He roared once and his warriors answered his call. Moving swiftly through the ranks of the dead, those enemy warriors unfortunate enough to be injured were marked for the alters as offerings. Black Flame Imps recovered brother warriors and returned them to their Lairs to rest and heal. The Keeper grinned, and waved his free hand in an intricate pattern, causing his warriors to vanish from sight, plucked up by the Keeper's hand. The enemy had been delivered a severe beating that had left them bloody. Now it was time to take the assault to the enemy and collect their skulls.
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