Chronicles of Espiria Season 1
Episode 19 - Shadow Invasion
Written by CindyDaGreat
Izold sat on his own in the Noble Tavern, trying to enjoy a rare break from training. Though Thane continued to encourage him in his own way, Izold had begun to fear that he would never be allowed back on the battlefield; he just could not overcome Thane's other, undamaged students. Hogan tried to help him learn to use his artificial leg more proficiently when he could, but Hogan was on assignment on the frontier, which was where Izold desperately wanted to be. Even Rigby was of little help on this day; he was busy seeing to the needs of a group of bounty hunters at the next table, almost mocking him with their raucous laughter. Izold had begun to see himself as a forgotten warrior.
Had he been with Hogan, he might have felt different about the assignment. It was a slow day at the Lightbearer encampment on the border of Bantus. Aside from the sky being darker than it should have been in the middle of the day, nothing was amiss. Most of the soldiers were engaged in idle conversation about the slowness of the day; the rest saw to the mundane tasks that only accentuated the dullness of the situation. If not for the abandoned Bantus fortification that cast an ever-present shadow over the encampment, the day would be considered peaceful.
"It's been three weeks since we first arrived," Hogan said to himself. "Three weeks since we drove back the Graveborn incursion."
After a deep breath and sigh of boredom, he looked over those with him. Gwyneth passed the time by cleaning her bow, quietly humming a tune previously played by Angelo, who was resting in a nearby tent.
"Pardon my intrusion, but do you know where your father is?" Hogan asked Gwyneth.
"Probably on patrol somewhere, just as bored as we are." she answered.
At that moment, without warning, Graveborn soldiers burst out of the ground at the edge of the encampment and flooded from the Bantus fort toward the off-guard encampment. At the head of this unexpected army was a Graveborn with dull green eyes, a metallic mask, and a sword where his arm should have been. His most disturbing feature, however, was the green eye embedded in his chest.
"I...am...alive!" the figure shouted as shadowy copies of himself manifested from thin air. A wave of his sword hand, and the shadowy abominations attacked the camp.
Hogan was quick to respond and began shouting orders. "Ready formations! Defend the camp! Someone find Hendrik! Angelo, hide somewhere!"
Angelo, who had peeked out of his tent at the sounds of the Graveborn, quickly retreated back into the tent. Once Hogan started shouting orders, the soldiers were quick to follow and set up a defensive circle around the camp. Hendrik was running to the scene, frantically searching for his daughter. Despite carrying two massive shields weighing hundreds of pounds each, Hendrik moved with the speed and dexterity of an ice skater, easily trampling Graveborn grunts without even noticing.
"Gwyneth, where are you?" Hendrik shouted.
Spinning in every direction, he finally spotted Gwyneth, calmly firing arrow after arrow at her attackers as enemy arrows buried themselves in the nearby dirt. Looking at the enemy side, he spotted a new archer emerge from the fort; he might once have been a handsome man, but years of death had left him a decayed corpse, his face partially obscured by a hood and a horned headpiece. Standing in a bizarre squatting position, he nocked and fired seemingly multiple arrows at once. Hendrik saw that the archer had Gwyneth in his sights.
"No!" he shouted as he jumped between his daughter and the Graveborn arrows. The heavy arrowheads buried themselves in his shields, but did no harm to either Hendrik or Gwyneth.
"Father, protect the others! I'll handle this archer!" Gwyneth said, though she was quick to add as he turned to leave, "Thank you for the save, Father."
Hendrik nodded, knowing he taught her well. As he hurried off, Gwyneth nocked a banquet of arrows. Backing up, she let go of the string. Each arrow she fired found a home in some unfortunate Graveborn's body, many coming to rest in the skulls of the Graveborn, incapacitating them. The mysterious archer, however, proved elusive; she lost sight of him for a time, until she looked up and saw his arrows raining from the sky. Drawing on every moment of experience she had, she quickly fired her arrows at the incoming Graveborn spears, deflecting each of them harmlessly into the ground.
"Archers, I could use some help here!" she shouted.
Hearing her summons, many of the archers saw what she was doing and turned their attention from the Graveborn soldiers to the sky. Many of these archers had spent time under Gwyneth's tutelage, so though they still were not as skilled as she, they were still quite capable of performing the task she now called them to do. Most of the rain of arrows from the Graveborn archers and the mysterious marksman were deflected by the well-aimed arrows of Gwyneth and the Lightbearer archers, a display of marksmanship that distracted and impressed even many of the warriors on the field.
Hendrik, meanwhile, smashed his shields against the ground, clearing out most of the arrows embedded in them, simultaneously stunning nearby Graveborn units. The brave knights continued to slay the shadowy apparitions of the Graveborn leader, but it seemed that for each one slain, two would take its place. Seeing the battle unfold this way, Hogan began to worry. Many of his men were dead or seriously injured; he feared seeing the final death count.
Soon, the rain of arrows ceased on both sides as the archers sought more ammunition. The undead leader took this moment of archery respite to charge at Hogan, his sword hand outstretched.
"Die, Light scum!" he shouted.
"I've handled worse corpses than you!" Hogan retorted.
Predicting his movements, Hogan raised his sword and blocked the attack. The undead attacker grinned as he gained a new sense of respect for his opponent, but quickly charged him again. As he went through the motions of block, parry, jab, block, slice, block, stab, block, he recalled a memory of his basic training twenty years ago.
"The art of the blade is like a dance between attacker and defender." his drill sergeant said to him. "Each gets a turn on the move they choose to perform."
His years of fighting had reinforced the wisdom of his teacher. He and the Graveborn commander were like dancers, performing the dance of war.
After a time, the Graveborn found an opening in Hogan's defenses and stabbed. Blood spurted from his side as Hogan clenched it. "You think one wound will tear me down?" he forced out.
"Look at you, bleeding and thinking you still have a chance." the Graveborn mocked. "This battle was over the moment I stepped into your camp. Your dead are proof of that."
Hogan looked out at the camp, which was nearly overrun by Graveborn and shadow creatures. Hard experience had taught him to recognize his limits, and he knew he had reached them.
"Retreat! Lightbearers, fall back and regroup!"
The Graveborn's dull green eyes stared at Hogan and his wound, chuckling to himself. "Wise decision, Commander. I could remove your head at any time, but I prefer to leave it where it is for now."
"You find it prettier on my neck?" Hogan retorted, unable to avoid trying for the last word.
The Graveborn slashed with his arm blade, leaving a thin cut on Hogan's neck. "You could say that. Now run along, back to that flimsy female general you care so much for. We don't need your flesh in Bantus."
Hogan stepped back, never losing his resolute look, and joined the retreat, his hand still over his wound.
As the Lightbearers left the camp, a chorus of gurgling cheers rose up from the common soldiers as the shadowy apparitions vanished all at once. The Graveborn marksman strode up next to the Commander and patted his shoulder with a stitched-on hand.
"You did well, sir. Not bad."
The Commander set his gaze on the ground as he wiped the blood from his blade. "Thank you, Ferael, but this is only the beginning."