Dagger of Souls
*** Chapter 16 ***
The small group of soldiers began to murmur amongst themselves about the orcs' new plan to torch the town. "Listen to me," Sir Dural yelled to get the soldiers' attention before they started to work themselves into a panic. He pulled his steel bastard sword free of its worn but well maintained leather scabbard and held it in the air above his polished helm. The purple flume that hung down behind it fluttered in the cold breeze along with his black and gold cape. "Men, the battle is upon us. Now is the time to bring honor to yourselves and your family, to show your courage in the face of the enemy. The town of Stalford is looking to us as their protectors, to give them peace from the enslavement and butchery of these savage beasts. Today we deliver justice in honor of those who have fallen and suffered at the evil clutches of these vicious heathens. Your bravery here will be in the songs of Bards across the Western Heartlands. Together we shall prevail. Onward to victory!"
The soldiers drew their swords and waved them in the air, inspired by the paladin's speech of heroism they began to repeat the mantra, "To victory!"
The sergeant let them chant for a minute and then motioned for them to quiet down so he could issue new orders. "Wylan take your group to the northeast. Take up positions inside the fenced fields. Shoot crossbows first until they engage us in melee battle. Bandon take your group a little northwest and we will try to surround them and cut them to pieces. We must prevent them from getting within throwing distance of the cottages. Go now and get into position and wait for my signal. Dismissed and justice be with you."
The men gave a hearty salute and hurried off to their assigned area. The stout paladin turned around and waved for Klenn to move forward. "Get the village archers into the cottages quickly. After that, I need you to go and recruit more villagers to fill up buckets with snow and ice to put out any fires."
The sergeant searched for the rogue warrior but didn't see him anywhere. He prayed that the messenger was out scouting and setting up for the attack, though he would have preferred to know where. Cera unclipped the mace from her belt and held it in her hand. She donned her steel helm and adjusted her long chestnut hair underneath it. The weapon she wielded was basically a steel club with a heavy square head, engraved in white with her goddess' moon and star symbol.
Einlan whispered a few words to his winged companion and it flew up and perched on top of a nearby barn. He adjusted the long oak bow on his shoulder and glanced back at the knight. "I am going to join Elyria on the rooftop so that I may have a better view of the battlefield."
Sir Dural nodded his agreement. "Yes, that would be wise. That way they they'll be unable to attack you directly and prevent you from using your magic. Just be careful up there in the snow."
Einlan responded with a smile. "I will be fine. Good home to you, Sir Dural." It was a typical elf sentiment, translated into human words it was a little confusing, but it basically meant to give blessings or good tidings.
"Good home to you as well, elf friend," he responded in kind.
The wizard bounded gracefully across the snow covered ground and stepped up on a window sill, climbed over the ledge above the window frame and then walked up to the apex of the snow covered thatched roof.
Cera and Sir Dural walked around the cottages and barns to the north side where the orcs would soon be upon them. He found similar wooden stumps nearby like the ones to the east Keltar used to spring his trap. He noticed the rope just beneath the snow, similar to the one the rogue used to raise the spiked fence. He craned his neck to look back at the priestess. "We will stay here behind this trap. They probably won't be fooled by it again, but if they do charge us we can activate it. If they approach cautiously the soldiers and townsfolk can unleash a hail of bolts and arrows on them. We will have to clash with whoever makes it through in close combat. Are you ready?"
The priestess was calm and her deep blue eyes were alert and focused. "With the grace of the Selune," she answered to his query.
The sergeant studied her tender face for any hint of hesitation or fear and there was none, her eyes only displayed inner strength and sincere compassion. He felt confident and secure with her by his side. Her soft eyes and pale, milky skin seemed to contrast the open faced war helm she wore, which matched the dichotomy of her personality. The holy warrior displayed a brief smile and then turned to scan the farmland for any sign of the enemy.
He didn't have long to wait before they spotted the yellow-orange glow of torches moving through the leafless winter trees in the distance. The orcs approached in rows of two so it was difficult to see the exact number of warriors in the raiding party. The knight continued to be amazed at Sho'Varg's tactics. This leader was far more intelligent than most people believed possible of any orc. Most people believed they were all mindless savages that attacked anything on sight. If it weren't for their bird spy they could have been tricked into thinking their forces were split, making them thin out their defenses to cover the whole village. Sergeant Dural blew the alarm horn with one long blast to signal his men to be ready as the orcs approached close to the edge of the nearest tree line. The marauders were moving in a fast paced march. They began to fan out as they emerged from the woods into the open, snow covered farming fields. He could hear the elf wizard's arcane chant carrying through the still, cold air. He glanced up at Einlan as yellowish white crackling energy swirled around his outstretched hands. A brilliant flash of white hot lightning streaked from his fingertips and arched across the fields striking two of the orcs. The green skinned warriors' howls of pain ended abruptly as their charred, smoldering bodies fell to the ground. The remaining orcs each began to sprint with their torches in tow toward different farm houses, except the orc leader who hung back near the tree line.
The holy warrior grimaced in consternation as he examined the battle unfolding around him. They didn't charge directly at him so his plan to funnel them in the center and surround them was thwarted. The paladin blew his horn with a series of blasts, short-long-short-long, signaling the soldiers and villagers to begin the aerial assault. Loud twangs of bow strings recoiling filled the air as the city guardsmen and town archers unleashed their deadly missiles at the incoming horde. The sprinting humanoids proved difficult targets. Only one orc fell and two others were slightly injured from the barrage of bolts and arrows. Sir Dural knew with the quick pace and spread formation that they wouldn't be able to inflict many casualties with the ranged weapons from these inexperienced shooters. The sergeant decided to abandon his defensive position and move up to stop the nearest orc before he could get close enough to launch a torch at one of the nearby cottages. He glanced at the priestess briefly as he began to move out toward the northeast where four of the marauders headed. She nodded in understanding of the change of plans and followed in his wake.
The armored warrior closed in on the nearest orc, but the green skinned creature spotted the knight moving in to cut him off and tried to launch the torch toward the building. It flew end over end but was too far away and hit the ground short, causing it to fizzle as the snow extinguished the flame. The orc attempted to raise its axe weapon but Sir Dural was already upon him, swinging mightily toward the creatures exposed ribs with his full momentum. The sounds of cracking bone reverberated through the fields as the gleaming bastard sword exploded through the green skinned invader's rib cage slicing almost all the way to its midsection. The knight pulled the gore covered blade free and turned to analyze the battlefield again as the orc twisted and crumpled to the snow in a bloody heap.
Cera moved to the right and halted near Sir Dural where she concentrated on the next closest target making its way toward another farmhouse. As it moved within range of throwing its torch she began to chant while holding her mace in the air pointed toward the orc. Her voice seemed to echo and distort as if her divine pleas traveled to otherworldly dimensions. The star shaped birthmark above her right eye began to illuminate as divine energy surged through her. The orc suddenly stopped mid motion just as it reared back to throw the pitch covered flaming stick. The marauder appeared to be frozen in place like a flesh covered statue, the only movement being the dancing flame of the torch still held tight in its large green hand.
The priestess wasted no time and gave no quarter to the helpless humanoid as she charged forward and slammed the square weighted end of her mace against the side of the paralyzed orc's wide head. Dark blood gushed freely down its filthy ear and neck as it toppled over, still postured in the same throwing position as it fell sideways on the snowy ground
Einlan began chanting again in arcane elvish from the nearby rooftop. His voice took on a mystical power as the magical weave coalesced in his palms while he moved his hands in intricate, flowing patterns. A cloud of shimmering gold energy formed around his arms as he completed his incantation. He thrust his first and middle fingers outward toward one of the orcs moving to the northwest portion of town. The cloud formed into three shimmering gold orbs as it flew from his finger tips leaving a trail of golden sparks like a comet behind them. The orc saw the magical energy coming for him and rolled to the ground, but the magical orbs followed his movements and swooped downward striking the creature squarely in the back. The orc convulsed as the arcane energy burned through his clothes and skin and seared his internal organs.
The one remaining orc to the northwest somehow got through another hail of arrows and launched its torch at a small cottage. It smashed against the house causing the flaming pitch to splatter across the wall and dark smoke to billow in the air as the hot flames took hold. The three Waterdeep guardsmen let loose another volley of steel bolts with two of them finding their mark. One of the steel shafts punctured the creature's chest just above its pectoral muscle, while the other sunk deep into its thick gut. It staggered a few steps before falling to its knees and finally landing face first into soft snow.
Klenn and two other villagers immediately went into action and tossed buckets of snow on top of the searing flames, putting the fire out before it spread throughout the entire building.
A bestial scream ripped through the air as Sho'Varg charged toward Sir Dural from across the field. The brute was enraged at the heavy losses his forces sustained and appeared to be looking to exact his vengeance on the human leader.
The two orcs that spread out farther to the northeast moved into range and flung their torches at two separate cottages. The pitch struck the wood walls of both buildings. The oily flames ignited the cold wood causing the fire to expand and intensify rapidly. Wylan and his men rushed to load more bolts into their crossbows and fired at the nearest orc who was injured from the initial volley. The orc dove behind a stack of chopped wood when he saw them taking aim at him and just barely avoided several of the sharp, steel projectiles. The orc furthest east escaped the arrows that the villagers fired from nearby windows and circled back to the soldier's right flank and hopped over the short fence surrounding the field they were positioned in. The orc behind the wood pile stood up and turned to join in and charge at the three soldiers before they could reload again. Keltar appeared suddenly and rolled out from his hiding place on the other side of the wood pile and sliced at the orc's hamstring before it could turn the corner. The thick padding it wore protected it from a deep gash, but the quick attack was enough to draw blood and its full attention. The injured beast spun around to face the new threat, while the other orc continued its charge from the soldier's right side. Wylan and his men had no time reload before it would reach them, so they dropped their crossbows and readied their long swords instead. The orc let out a loud battle cry as it lunged at Rork, a short soldier with curly brown hair. The youthful guardsman did his best to try and deflect the weapon, but the burly creature rammed the sharp spear tip at the top of the curved axe head into the soldier's armored chest. The blow drove deep through the chain mesh armor, penetrating flesh and bone as it knocked him several feet backward where he collapsed, clutching desperately at the deep wound.
Cera watched the hulking orc officer rapidly close in on Sir Dural and she advanced to join him as the warrior completed a prayer of strength and favor from his deity. He waved her off as she approached and pointed his sword toward the close quarter battle with the two remaining soldiers. "No. Help them!"
She gave him a huff and an icy stare, but heeded his command and ran toward the wounded soldier lying in the snow attempting to hold back the tide of surging blood escaping his chest.
The knight's prayer for divine aid was answered swiftly, just as Sho'Varg reached him. Every joint and muscle in his body tingled from the holy power surging through him. The orc officer ran at him with his large axes' spear point in front. The move seemed to be reckless and obvious, but he concentrated on the orc's stance and body movement to try and anticipate his real intention. He noticed the orc pivot at the last moment and knew the beast was going to shift into another attack. The sergeant side stepped the initial attack from the spear end of the axe weapon and then stepped up. The orc stopped short and spun around, swinging the axe in a wide arc with incredible force, but the paladin had head already stepped forward out of the way. Dural turned quickly and leapt forward swinging the wide, gleaming blade downward toward the back of the beast's head. The green skinned humanoid spun away from the blow, but the tip of the wide blade still took a decent chunk of flesh from the back of its broad shoulder.
Keltar widened his stance as his opponent brought the curved axed blade straight down. The messenger hopped sideways and spun around using his momentum to swing in a low arc. The blow connected solidly, nearly cutting the orc's wide leg in two. The creature could no longer support its enormous weight and fell to the ground growling in agony as its life blood pooled in the snow around him. The grounded orc managed to balance on one elbow and make a feeble attempt to jab its axe at him. The rogue warrior used his sword to parry the curved axe head to the side and then stepped on the orc's beefy hand holding the weapon. With his other boot he kicked the beast hard in the face, smashing its wide nose. Keltar then bounded toward the two soldiers squaring off with remaining orc soldier. The priestess was several paces ahead of him, just now reaching the orc warrior after circling behind it. She swung her mace and clouted the thick warrior in the lower back. The two guardsmen took advantage as the orc reeled from the woman's solid blow and slashed at its chest and abdomen before it could regain its balance. The burly humanoid fell forward, spewing blood heavily from several deep wounds. Wylan plunged his blade into the creature's back to be sure it would not rise again.
Cera raced toward the wounded soldier, but was disheartened to see Rork was no longer holding his chest and his pale hands were limp at his side as he stared blankly skyward. She stopped and placed her firm, slender hand underneath his nostrils to check for any signs of breathing. Finding none she checked his skin and it had already gone cold and pale. She checked the artery in his neck for a heartbeat, but there was no sign of a pulse. The priestess let out a mournful sigh and pushed his eyes shut, lamenting over the fact that the soldier was barely old enough to be considered a man.
The sergeant fought with religious fervor against the enormous opponent. They traded blows and both inflicted several wounds as a result. He spotted the soldiers moving to engage and barked at them while he braced his shield against the officer's fierce attack. "Men, stay back. That's an order."
Keltar saw the holy warrior's shoulder bleeding profusely from a gaping wound and noticed a visible limp on his right leg as he moved. The battle was nearly a stalemate, but the messenger planned to turn the odds in his favor as he moved to flank the opponent. He tried to come in close and strike at its exposed legs, but the orc was wary of the move and kicked his booted foot at the messenger's sword hand before he could complete his swing. It nearly knocked the weapon from his hand and caused him to stumble from the unexpected change in momentum.
Dural used the distraction to swing diagonally across the orc officer's midsection. The blade severed mostly through the orc's hide armor drawing a fresh line of brackish blood across its green skin. Keltar and the knight began to maneuver trying to get a better position, while the orc tried to keep both men in front of him. The brute started toward Dural and then turned and swung wildly at Keltar expecting him to try and seize the opportunity. The tactic worked well as the messenger moved forward to attack, he found the huge axe head whistling toward his abdomen. The messenger was able to halt and twist back to avoid the worst of the blow but it still ripped a large gash through the studded black leather armor. He felt his own warm blood running down his gut underneath his armor. He ignored the pain and slashed downward with his blade slicing deeply across the back of the orc's muscular, green arm. Sir Dural also scored another blow to the officer's thigh. The snow beneath the orc was no longer white from the creature's murky blood peppered around the area below him from numerous lacerations. He had trouble standing but somehow the huge creature kept fighting.
The soldiers obeyed their orders to stay back though their grim faces showed they didn't like them at all. They loaded their crossbows with steel bolts and kept them trained on the orc but held back for fear of hitting their sergeant or the messenger.
Cera moved in despite looks from both men to warn her away. She waited until the orc had tried to dodge blows from both and then came in to clout the officer on the head. He was able to move enough to only take the blow on the shoulder. The two men seemed to be spurred by the woman putting herself in danger and attacked quickly. Keltar struck its right forearm and Dural was able to swing as the orc's attention was split and catch the creature in the side of the head causing it to twist violently. The beast tried desperately to keep its feet under him but the heavy blow caused it to lose all sense of balance. The orc officer toppled over backward like a tree felled for lumber. Keltar stepped on its axe so that he couldn't try one last move and Sir Dural stood over Sho'Varg pinning his chest down with his boot. "For the crimes against the people of Stalford, your life is forfeit." He plunged the wide blade down into the orc's black heart.