Battle For The Nine Realms

by Ramy Vance

  No, Suzuki, Fred answered. It is not. As I’ve said before, it is extremely uncommon to find goblins and orcs working together. It is even more so for a fight to break out like that and the goblins do nothing to avenge their fallen brother. It is disconcerting. Even more bothersome are the centaurs. Centaurs are not dark creatures. They are neutral. As long as I have been alive, I have never seen centaurs tolerate goblins or orcs. Centaurs make eldritch creatures such as me look humble. They have intense pride in their blood, in their pure stock. They believe creatures such as goblins are beneath them, inferior forms of evolution. To see them trading with goblins and orcs is troublesome. It is no doubt the Dark One’s influence. What do you think?

  You’re asking me for my opinion?

  Fred pursed his lips. We do not have time for your coyness, human. We are working together. Let’s work together efficiently. It is only a matter of time before someone else tries to figure out what I am doing here. I highly doubt there are many eldritch creatures enrolled in the Dark One’s schemes. I will be noticed eventually.

  The Dark One was resurrecting that eldritch god.

  That is true, Fred agreed. Perhaps I would rather believe that whatever the Dark One has been doing hasn’t touched the eldritch, but you are right. They did rebirth an elder god. Perhaps no one is off-limits.

  Across the camp, Suzuki and Fred heard an ear-splitting scream. A few of the goblins looked up and chuckled. We should see what that is, Suzuki suggested. I know we’re here to get Beth, but we gotta figure out what’s going on before we can find her. You need to do a better job blending in.

  And how do you suggest I do that?

  If anyone asks what you’re doing, tell them that you’re here to relay information to the viceroy. Tell them that you have information about some elder god or shit. Something that a grunt wouldn’t know anything about. If you’re going to act all uppity around everyone, you need to put it to good use.

  That isn’t a bad plan, human, Fred said.

  Exactly. You can still be an asshole. This way, you being an asshole won’t get us killed. Now let’s go check out where that scream was coming from.

  Fred made his way toward the scream. It was not difficult to trace. More screams were coming from that way, deep, guttural wailing that sounded as frightened as pained. Fred and Suzuki continued to make their way through the camp, Fred sticking to the side of the crowds of goblins and orcs who walked by, talking as if they were long comrades.

  Suzuki felt unnerved by the scene.

  He wondered if he was still picking up on Fred’s emotions or if being so deep in enemy territory was starting to get to him.

  They finally found the source of the screams. This section of the camp was built mostly of tents. There was a corral in the middle of the tents, and it was sectioned off with heavy steel beams that made Suzuki think of a giant cage. The steel beams had huge flickering lights posted on them. The lights flashed brightly every couple of seconds and emitted an odd, high-pitched sound.

  Orcs and goblins were rushing back and forth, shouting at each other in garbled voices. They were excited. One of the larger orcs walked through, swinging a large stick and knocking over anyone small or dumb enough not to get out of the way. Goblins walked behind him, rolling over anyone unlucky enough to get hit by the stick. Once a pathway had been cleared, six huge orcs came walking down the pathway. They held chains that were tied to a giant. The giant’s head was bowed, pulled down by the chains around its neck.

  There were more giants being led by large orcs. Five in total. The orcs prodded the giants with magical staffs causing sparks of lightning to shock the giants anytime they slowed down. Suzuki was reminded of a video he had seen as a child of poachers forcing elephants into cages with cattle prods. The elephants had looked defeated, their deep black eyes pits of despair.

  Suzuki saw the same look in the faces of the giants. That’s not right, Suzuki said.

  No, Fred agreed. It is not. Giants are noble creatures, and some of the oldest. The first giants were carved from the stones of their homes. They are creatures wise beyond the years of mortals. They should not be treated like this.

  Suzuki was surprised to hear Fred speak with reverence about any creature other than himself. A little bit of Fred’s mind opened up to Suzuki. He could see Fred’s various opinions about the different races in Middang3ard. It was surprising. Suzuki had assumed that the tone Fred took when talking of any of the different races had been that of a snob.

  Seeing through Fred’s eyes, it was the voice of a tired parent, one who knew his children yet still didn’t understand them. Nonetheless, he loved them for their differences, even if he couldn’t grasp them.

  Fred quickened his pace, flapped his wings, and flew to the top of one of the steel beams. He perched next to one of the flashing lights and leaned forward to watch what was transpiring in the corral.

  The orcs had brought in the first giant.

  It took a while, but the orcs managed to get the giant into the center and surrounded it. Suddenly, the giant leapt forward, grabbing one of the orcs and slamming it into the ground repeatedly. It turned around and, using the dead orc as a club, smashed another orc into the ground.

  Outside the corral, a few of the orcs holding the other imprisoned giants handed their chains to the orc reinforcements running toward them. The giant wranglers stepped into the corral, each of them armed with an electric staff. They circled the giant, who had gone to full berserk mode, mindlessly stomping on anything that moved. His feet fell with enough force to shake the beam that Fred was perched on.

  The giant’s feet reduced two orcs to mush as it leaned forward and somersaulted through the corral. One of the larger orcs managed to get out of the way and run to the side of the giant pen. “Bring in the ogres!” the orc shouted.

  Toward the back of the corral was a long steel shed that stretched a couple of dozen feet. A heavy sliding door cut it off from the corral, and a handful of goblins stood beside it. When the orc shouted, the goblins climbed up the door and undid its locks.

  Two ogres burst out of the opening. Their eyes were bright with bloodlust, their hairy bodies nothing more than corded muscle intent on killing. They were smaller than the giants but faster, more vicious. Their matted hair was soaked with the blood of past battles.

  The ogres let out a blood-curdling shriek as they bounded into the corral.

  The giant turned its nose up and sniffed the air. It was at this moment, seeing this simple gesture, that Suzuki realized he had never seen a normal giant before. Maybe it was having his memories spliced with Fred’s, but Suzuki suddenly realized how off every giant he had ever seen had looked.

  Their eyes were always devoid of intelligence. They had a hollowed-out look, as if whatever was once inside them had been gutted and tossed to the side. That was not the case with the giant who was staring down the ogres. His eyes looked sad, as if they understood the monumental challenge that lay before them. Suzuki realized that the giant did understand.

  Whatever the Dark One was doing to these creatures was beyond simple control.

  Fred pierced through Suzuki’s mind, bombarding him with images of giants throughout the ages, so many that Suzuki couldn’t wrap his mind around all of them. He just let them sink in, allowing them to inform his current perspective.

  Yes, yes, Fred said, interrupting Suzuki’s train of thought. But how is he doing it? Why is not nearly as important as how?

  Outside the newly-formed echo chamber in Suzuki and Fred’s intertwined minds, the ogres launched their attack on the giant. They surrounded the giant and started raining blows down upon its head. The giant whirled, trying to smack at least one of the ogres, but it was too slow. One of the ogres jumped and drop-kicked the giant in the chest, sending him flying into the steel barricades of the corral.

  The giant hit the ground and stayed down. He looked up, his eyes wet with tears, his jaw broken. While the giant lay there in defeat, the three ogres pinned it down. An or
c jumped over the side of the corral, holding a massive brand. He was hardly able to hold it up by himself. He leaned against it and scanned the corral for an extra hand. The only other orcs in the corral had been flattened to mush.

  Those standing outside the corral didn’t look particularly willing to jump back in with the giant.

  The orc looked up at the beam Fred was perched on and cleared his throat as he waved Fred down. “Get your ass down here,” the orc shouted. “Could use some of that eldritch strength for this.”

  Fred thought about ignoring the orc for a second but realized that there was no way out of the altercation. He had to pass for one of the Dark One’s foot soldiers, so Fred spread his wings and took off, gliding down to the orc.

  The giant had stopped struggling.

  He lay there, staring blankly ahead, his eyes heavy with defeat as an ogre pressed its knee into the back of his neck. Fred landed by the giant’s side as the orc was struggling with the brand. The steel brand was nearly five feet long and thick, shooting off sparks of energy every few seconds. Suzuki couldn’t tell what the design on the brand was. It didn’t look like any magical runes that he had seen so far. He dipped into Fred’s memories and couldn’t find anything that remotely resembled the symbol.

  After Fred landed, the orc thrust the brand at Fred, who barely managed to keep from dropping it. Suzuki and Fred could tell the moment that they touched it that the energy coming off of the brand was not magical.

  The orc picked up the other side of the brand, and with Fred’s help, hoisted it high enough to approach the giant. “All right, you know what to do,” the orc grumbled. “Let’s just take care of this.”

  Fred tried to keep his face neutral and betray nothing. “I haven’t branded many of these creatures,” he said. “Where do the brands for giants go?”

  “We just changed them to the neck. Helps pick up the frequency better. Right above the shoulders.”

  Fred nodded, and the orc guided the brand to the giant’s neck. Skin sizzled, and the giant flailed as it screamed in pain. The air filled with the smell of burning flesh. After a little bit, the giant’s body went still.

  Suzuki heard a light ringing in his head.

  It was similar to the ringing his mother had told him signified losing a frequency of hearing. He didn’t know if that was true or if it was just some old wife’s tale, but he knew the ringing when he heard it. The lights on the steel beams of the corridor flashed brightly in time to the frequency. When the orc removed the brand from the giant, there was a large microchip planted firmly in the giant’s neck. The flashing blue light on the chip pulsed in rhythm with the ringing tone and the lights on top of the corral.

  The ogres released the giant and backed away. Suzuki noticed that the ogres also had similar chips on the back of their necks.

  That was when it clicked for Suzuki.

  This was how the Dark One was controlling so many different races. He wasn’t uniting them through diplomacy or anything so benevolent. This was mind control, and for some reason, he was using technology instead of magic. Perhaps it was a combination of them both. Either way, Suzuki knew what was being used to control so many races.

  It took a bit of time, but the giant stood up. It looked around shakily. There was nothing left of the soft kindness that Suzuki had seen in the giant’s eyes as it lay there, waiting to be branded. Instead, the giant looked ahead with hollowed-out, glazed eyes as if he were waiting for an order and had no purpose until then.

  Outside the corral, the two other giants shouted. Their words were in their own language. It was a sad, slow, guttural language, and Suzuki realized that he had never heard any of the giants he’d seen speak. He had just assumed that they were too stupid to have a language, that they were just mindless, rampaging, killing monsters. Now he could see how wrong he had been. There was so much more to these giants than he could have assumed. Was that true of the orcs and goblins as well? Had the Dark One stripped each of these races of who they were in the pursuit of control?

  The orc with the brand shooed Fred away as he passed the brand to the giant. “Thanks for the help,” the orc muttered. “Now get the fuck out of here. We got to get these giants finished up so we can start with the dwarves.”

  Fred looked around the corral, trying to locate where the dwarves might be kept. “When did the dwarves arrive?” he asked.

  “A few days ago. We’ve been working on new collars and chips for them. They need special chips. So do the elves. And the humans.”

  “How many dwarves do you have?”

  “Just a handful. Our chips burnt on the last batch we had, but these new ones should last.”

  “And the humans?”

  “First round of tests. Captured a group a few weeks back that we’re planning on implanting. Soon as we finish up with these assholes,” he said, motioning toward the giant who stared dumbly ahead, transfixed by nothing.

  “Where are the humans?” Fred asked, trying to sound more curious than prying.

  “You sure as hell got a lot of questions…”

  “The viceroy sent me to brand the humans,” Fred quickly offered. “I was unable to find them due to the sloppy organization of this camp, something the viceroy also expressed a desire to know about.”

  The orc’s face went white and he stumbled over his words. “I didn’t know the viceroy had taken an interest in our camps,” he mumbled. “They usually aren’t this disorganized. You weren’t planning on including that in your report?”

  “If you prefer, I could include how an orc kept me from being able to fulfill my duties to the viceroy. If you would prefer that report.”

  The orc threw his hands in the air as he shook his head. “No, no, I’ll let you know where the humans are. I wouldn’t want to disappoint the viceroy.” Then the orc leaned close to Fred. “Are the camps that bad?”

  “It should not be nearly this difficult to find the humans.”

  “We gotta keep them separate from everyone else. They’re crafty, and keep finding ways to escape. Between you and me, they’re pretty disgusting. But crafty. We found one of them with…uh…their parts in another one’s mouth. We went in there to break it up and were ambushed. They almost escaped.”

  “Yes, humans are known to use their mouths for…unsavory things.”

  “That’s the least of it. Anyway, you can find them over near the eastern section of the second ring. If anyone gives you any trouble, just tell them Mal-der gave you clearance. Hope that goes over with the viceroy well enough.”

  Fred nodded. “Your cooperation is greatly appreciated. I will inform the viceroy of your diligence and hard work.”

  “Thank you, thank you. That means a lot, coming from you. It isn’t often that we receive an eldritch lieutenant in our camp.”

  Fred lost his focus for a moment. “A what?” he asked.

  “Eldritch lieutenant. You know, eldritch creatures who’ve been chipped for the Dark One.” Mal-der’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Why wouldn’t you have heard of the rank you’ve received?” he asked.

  “Because unlike you pathetic sacks of shit, I did not need to be microchipped to perceive the greatness of the Dark Lord. I willingly joined his ranks.”

  Mal-der backed off and raised his hands as he bowed his head apologetically. “I’m sorry, my lord,” he mumbled. “I did not realize that you were one of the Foresworn. My apologies.”

  Fred casually bowed his head to acknowledge Mal-der. “Don’t worry about it. Continue with your branding, and I will let the viceroy know how hard you are working. That is all.”

  Fred turned and flew out of the corral, out in the direction that Mal-der had pointed to for the human pens. He landed just in time to see a line of dwarven and elvish prisoners being marched through the camp. They were being driven by orcs who whipped them every few seconds. Their shouts and cries rang throughout the camp. Suzuki tried to see if any of them were MERCs, but their clothes were too tattered.

  A vicious roar brok
e through the camp. The elves and dwarves being herded jumped. Their faces looked broken. Whatever fight they had had was gone. They were cowed, and were being herded like cattle.

  Another roar, this one closer. It was loud enough to make Fred jump at the sound. He whipped around, looking for the source of the noise. As he looked upward, three dragons flew by. They were so large that they nearly blocked out the sun.

  The dragon in the middle of the flying formation had a heavy chain around his neck. The other two dragons flew down to land, pulling the third dragon by the chain. When they landed, the earth shook.

  The chained dragon blew a column of fire across the camp as it tried to pull away. Before the chained dragon could move any farther, the two gray dragons attacked it. Their claws tore into the red dragon’s skin, and they blasted it with fire until it roared one last time and lay still, smoke still floating from its skin. Then the two dragons, along with the orcs and goblins standing around, dragged the dragon toward the branding corral. Suzuki noticed the dim, distant look in the gray dragons’ eyes. It was similar to that of the giant.

  All around the camp, orcs, goblins, centaurs, and gnomes busied themselves. They were moving so quickly that Suzuki and Fred could hardly tell what they were doing.

  There was a feeling of urgency, but Suzuki couldn’t figure out just what they were doing. Other than the orcs and goblins taking care of the branding, it seemed that the rest of the camp was moving just for the sake of moving. It reminded Suzuki of a bee colony he had seen as a child.

  He had been walking with his father through the gardens near his house. His father had wanted to show him something important. In the corner of their backyard was a beehive. They had never touched it. It was understood that if you didn’t bother the bees, they wouldn’t bother you. That didn’t stop their neighbor from setting out pesticides. The poison had gotten to the bees, his father explained as he pointed to the beehive. The bees had all migrated out of the hive and were walking in circles, extremely organized yet driven mad from the pesticides —exactly like the races being controlled by the Dark One.