Chapter Fifty-Four
The Burntfang Rise, once the sacred grounds of the Shamans, lay to the south of Grothmar Wardowns and west of the Sacnoth Valley, overlooking the Plains of Golghein. It was chosen as the capital of the Shaman Caste due to his relative high ground, rising above even the Dalada Uplands, the top of the plateau giving a clear view of the surrounding lands all the way to the Great Northern wall to the south and the World's Edge Mountains to the north. It was there that the Shamans centered their power for the longest time, and where Pyre had summoned the collective warbands of the Charr to meet and address the foe that rested deep underneath the world.
Pyre declared that getting the Charr together in one place would likely be harder than convincing them to fight. Grazz wasn't quite so sure. The warbands never exactly held a spirit of cooperation, its why the humans were able to force the Charr from their ancestral lands, and why the shamans had such success overwhelming any pockets of resistance to their rule.
To complicate matters, Grazz sensed if the Charr were going to fight anyone, it was going to be the "invaders" that appeared on their lands in the last hour, making camp at the base of the rise; and Grazz supposed there was good reason to be uneasy. To be fair, the camps chose that position likely due to the abundance of water at the foot of the rise, and the fact that the cavern leading to Atal Ra was a casual stroll away on the plain.
The Norn were never one to move in immensely large groups... they resembled the Charr in that sense. Even during the final offensive on the Great Destroyer, the Norn sent all of four to battle. There was a few more than four this time.
Pyre motioned for Grazz to follow him as he addressed the Norn "army" that arrived at the meeting grounds. "Jora... I am curious how you mustered such... support... in such a short time." The Charr chieftain muttered warily.
His counterpart smiled with a hint of something that didn't exactly translate into good cheer. "The Asura have been spreading the word of this coming battle with a zeal my people can relate to. My brothers and sisters heard the stories of the hunt of the Destroyers, and they were determined not to miss this one."
"And so four became... four thousand?" Pyre said dubiously. Grazz figured he was estimating badly, but be it one thousand or four, that was still an awfully large concentration of Norn all in one place.
"Never underestimate the enthusiasm of a Norn when presented with the promise of an epic hunt."
Pyre grunted, not wanting to contest that statement. "You're making my kin anxious... so until I get them on board with this grand invasion, I would ask you try and keep your enthusiasm down."
Of course, the Norn were merely the second greatest distraction to Pyre's attempts. The first was roughly two hundred yards to the south, set up in their tents and with a fairly significant defensive perimeter. At the center of the Ebon Vanguard camp was Captain Langmar and her lieutenants. The defensive circle parted barely and reluctantly for Pyre and Grazz to enter and question the officer that led the human regiment.
"Chieftain Pyre Fierceshot." Langmar said with a hint of distaste. "What brings you here?"
"I was about to ask the same of you. This is our land you tread on, and depending on your answer, it will be your grave." Pyre threatened. He was very familiar with the Ebon Vanguard's guerrilla tactics. He wasn't going to assume any intentions until he heard them from Langmar's mouth... and even then he planned to watch her and her forces closely until he saw them addressing the old god's forces.
"We are here to aid our land and king. As we were informed, this was the most accessible point in which to do that. Unless you want us marching across the entire length of 'Charr land' to reach the Great Northern Wall and beyond." Langmar replied acidly. "We will fight for our king, and defend the land we love, even if we have to fight through every damn Charr on the Plain."
The ferocious determination in Langmar's voice and face reminded Grazz of a Charr, and even Pyre took a step back before he could force himself to hold his ground. With a growl of frustration at himself, he snarled, "Very well, but I'll be watching you, meat."
"Same, you dirty kitten."
The pair eyed each other angrily before Pyre spun about and again motioned for Grazz to follow. "Alright... now we assuage our brethren, and rally them to fight." He noted, more to himself. "Would you like to speak or should I?"
Grazz gave Pyre a nasty glare, and the Fierce clan chief laughed. "Oh, come on. I couldn't help myself."
As Grazz had feared, the warbands were distracted by the presence of the Norn and Ebon Vanguard, and were much more eager to assemble to massacre the invaders than form any momentary alliance. Charr's appeals that Bhu'kahuh was by far the greater threat largely fell on deaf ears.
"The gods are the human's problem. Why does it concern us?" One chief asked.
"Let the humans die by their own masters!" Another bellowed. "And let us kill the rest!"
"This god views us all living beings as 'food', even us." Pyre explained, his frustration growing. "If it is not stopped now, it will next turn its eyes on us."
"Then we will destroy it!" The first chief howled. "We fear no god!"
Pyre's irritation was clouding his mind, making it ever harder for him to properly make the right message to sway his brethren. Grazz stared at his pouch. Coran had given him an item upon their reunion after the great quakes... he didn't like it much, and in fact refused its use. But... someone had to speak if there was any hope of salvaging this summit.
Pyre was just about to issue a scathing retort when a metallic, hissing voice spoke over him. "You fear no god, yet you suggest we hide in our dens waiting for the old beast to emerge from its meager prison."
Pyre jumped, his hand moving to the bow on his back as he spun, and discovered the sound to have originated from Grazz. The former, wounded Shaman had attached a silvery box to his throat, a cord extending from said box to a plunger button in his hand. The button seemed to be the trigger that gave the normally mute Charr a voice.
"So, this is the greatness of the Charr. This is our power." Grazz chided. "A group of cowards. And you wonder why the Shamans seized control from you like they were stealing meat from a cub."
Instantly the warband chieftains jumped to their feet in anger. "Bold words from a shaman! I should cut you down where you stand!"
"Oh, now you're brave." Grazz nearly taunted. "Look below us. Norn and Humans are ready to fight this foe. Is this how you want to be represented? Is this the stain to your name you want to carry?"
Anger dissolved into confusion. "What are you saying, Shaman?"
Grazz grinned. "What would it say if humans and Norn would battle an enemy that we wouldn't? What would it tell them if we stayed behind while they marched to battle? Do we want them to think they are more courageous? Do we want the honor of the Charr sullied in such a manner? Would you honestly accept that humans will march where Charr dare not?"
"No one challenges my courage, Shaman!"
The other chieftains roared in challenge.
"Then prove your courage, chief. Face the god of insanity that lies below." Grazz explained. "As it stands, the Ebon Vanguard already laughs at us for taking this long to issue our call to war."
The chieftains grew silent, mulling over Grazz's contention, and he turned to the masses of Charr below. "My fellow Charr, I come to you not as a servant to a human, not as a Shaman, but as a Charr. I come from human and Asuran lands not to convert or betray our people, but to bring us knowledge and learning and the ways to reclaim what was taken from us! My heart and my efforts have always been for the advancement of our kind, so that we could take back what was lost, so that we could reassert our superiority on what rightfully is ours!"
"So listen well to the tale I tell, as it comes from one that wants what is best for the Charr. Deep below us, the father of the human gods stirs. To him, we all are mere morsels to feed his appetite. He knows not the power he seeks to consume. He is a blind, idiot god, and we have the rare opportunity to teach him a lesson about the thorns that will soon break his teeth. Before us is an opportunity to deliver a message that will make even the gods of men cower! This is our chance to deliver due notice that no god can bow our knee, no power can break our will and courage, no force can quench the fires of our rage!"
"My fellows, tomorrow, we can issue a roar that makes gods tremble!" Grazz declared in closing, "Let them fear the fury of the Charr!"
Pyre chortled. That Flamemane was always full of surprises, wasn't he? But there was little doubting that he had stirred the right result... as the setting sun gave way to what could be the last night of Tyria, the flames of torches thrust in the air lighting the summit of Burntfang rise summarized the days events. The combined hordes of the Charr had been rallied, and if only for a short while, they were unified in their cause. Along with the Norn and Ebon Vanguard alone, Pyre wondered if Coran would be able to muster a force even half the size of what would be coming from the northern tunnel.
He of course had no idea that the armies of two other continents had joined the fight on the human's side, and could not possibly comprehend the scale of the battle that was to come. All of Tyria, Elona, and Cantha would be stirred the next day. Bhu'kahuh would truly face the best blow of all mortal born.
The only question that remained was would it be enough.