“Drunk by stone!” King Gup rolled his eyes. Alfred flinched with each loud stone impact. He could hear the gnomes laughing in weird painful ways.
The boys and girls rushed past them to safety. Cory stopped. “They're taking the bait on all fronts, but their stone throws are still very effective.”
Loranna and Setheyna regrouped with Wilden, Nubio and the archergirls and spearboys in the forest. Hedor, Ruig, and his men accompanied them.
The girls fired a final volley.
“Where's the bugbear scouting group?!” Hedor said, ready to fight.
“Dead,” Loranna said, looking through the trees.
Hedor looked out to see them all lying in the open field. Hedor grinned.
“Incoming!” Setheyna yelled.
“Ohhhh, we're out of range!” Hedor said.
They looked up to see the stones high up in the air.
“Are you sure about that?” Ruig asked.
The stones fell short.
“See!” Hedor shrugged.
But they bounced tremendously, even on snow covered muddy fields, and came crashing into the forest. Branches and snow exploded all around them as a half dozen rocks shot through. Spears were splintered and shields shattered. The boys ducked behind trees as the stones bounced off tree after tree, creating a horrific crossfire.
“Retreat!” Hedor yelled, pulling kids away from the bombardment.
“We're in range!” shouted Ruig. “Bounce range!”
“And we're out of range!” Hedor said, plopping the kids down behind a ravine.
“We've got to get closer, to keep up the lure, or the ogres will focus on the tunnels!” Loranna said.
Hedor grunted as soil and wood chips rained down on them.
Nubio noticed a lot of moss in the area. It was poking out from the melting snow. He tapped Hedor with his spear.
“Boy, watch where you poke that,” Hedor said, distracted.
Nubio picked some moss. “This is smoky.”
Hedor looked oddly at Nubio.
“We use it to choke out fleas. It is very smoky! If we burn it, can't see... through...” Nubio said.
“Ruig, quick, gather kindle wood,” Hedor shouted.
Hedor snuck up to the forest edge. He licked his finger and poked it out into the air. “Hmmm... a bit further over here! Come on!”
Everyone followed him along the forest edge, staying low, keeping a watchful eye on Grotham Keep across the field and up a slope. No stones came bursting out as they moved quickly along. Many carried branches and picked moss as they went.
Hedor stopped and stepped out, licking his finger again. “Okay, here's the spot.”
Ruig and his men dropped their kindle wood and started a fire. The girls wrapped moss tightly to their arrows.
The ogres stood along the walls in various openings and precariously on piles of fallen stone. They scanned the forest but saw no activity. One finally called out, “Ovah here!” The ogres rushed to the east side, looking down the slope, and saw thick bluish smoke coming from the distant forest.
The War Chief rushed up. “Graaahh... zmoke to hidez them. Throw dem stonez now!”
Ogres lifted their stones as they saw arrows fly from the forest near the smoke. The arrows landed up the slope near them but well out of range. The ogres snickered until they saw that the arrows gave off plumes of bluish smoke that soon thickened and covered the field. More arrows flew. More pillars of smoke littered the fields. The ogres could not see where to fire.
“Throw dem rocks into the zmokez!!!” the War Chief yelled. The ogres tossed their stones like crazy as the smoke got thicker and thicker.
The War Chief realized that with the breeze, the smoke was coming their way. “Grrraaaghhh!!”
“They're using mossy smoke to hide them and keep the ogres busy!” a gnome scout said, saluting to King Gup and King Alfred. He then hurried away.
“Good job! My gnomes will attack first!” King Gup said. He turned to a gnome. “First attack is on!”
The gnome trooper saluted and hurried to give the message to the nearby gnomes in the tunnels.
“I will order my archers and spearmen and the knights of the Westfold to attack as well,” King Alfred said, putting on his goblin helm.
“It's a shame we didn't make you kingly armour!” King Gup said.
“You will!” King Alfred replied as he left.
The ogres tossing boulders down the hole became restless. Nothing was happening on their side now, so they began to nudge each other.
“Kanz yuuh hitzz dat tunnelz dere?”
“Oooh me? Ooozh, zure!”
“Bahhzz, I'mz bezt chucker'o'duh'stonez!”
As they chided each other, the gnomes had time to sneak up with their spring-loaded javelin shooters.
Above, they were will lit by the winter sun. Below, the ogres could not see well into the darkened recesses of the collapsed rubble and tunnels. So they did not see gnomes in the rubble aiming spring-loaders directly at them.
The War Chief looked at all the smoke floating into the grounds of Grotham Keep. He turned to see that the ogres guarding the tunnels were lying dead, punctured with several tiny, yet deadly steel spears.
He yelled like mad and jumped to the spot, ferociously throwing rock after rock into the opening. The gnomes tried to fire up, but the War Chief did not care as he threw the most explosive rocks into the confined space.
“Pikkz?!! Pikkz of ztone!? Yuz kanzt rezizt my stonez throz!!”
The gnomes leapt about knowing the power of these stones thrown so close was beyond their natural resistance. Spring-loaders and armour were dented and broken as the War Chief, in an incredible fury, decimated the gnomes. Several gnomes fell that day by the fury of the War Chief.
King Alfred and his group had to retreat. Boulders came crashing past the fallen gnomes and down their way. King Gup leapt in front to stop one before it hit Alfred and his group. The War Chief's boulders bounced far into the tunnels, wreaking much havoc, diminishing the fighters’ ability to engage.
But the War Chief's power was not infinite. He stopped in dazed frustration, exhausted and breathing heavily.
Out of a secret passageway, emerging from a secret door still intact on a ruined tower, a way the War Chief never knew of, came forth three knights and a cleric. He stared at them through dust-ridden sweaty eyes.
The knights seemed odd, as if they had silver skin. They held blades that twinkled like starlight and shields that seemed more like frozen ice than steel. Their faces were covered in helmets that reminded the War Chief of great towers seen far away along the horizon. As smoke filled the area, the ogres retreated from the walls and saw the knights. The cleric chanted a spell.
Lord of light, give us strength
courage and might.
Lord of light, cast doubt
into the foulness that rises
the foulness within our sight!
“Attackzzz!!! GrrrRAAAAGGGHH!!”
The War Chief lumbered forward and threw rock after rock. The knights lifted their shields and moved with uncommon speed. The cleric retreated into the doorway as he deflected a mighty stone with a blast from his staff.
One knight was struck square on the shield and flew back, hitting various rubble outcroppings. He rolled down into the rubble.
Ogres bound forth like giant apes.
The first knight, Lord Dunther, turned, “Sir Murith?!”
Dizzily, Sir Murith, in his silver armour, got up from the rubble and shook the blow off. Sir Gorham leapt down beside him. An ogre met them and crashed down with a heavy battle axe. Gorham met the axe and deflected it with his shield, swiftly swinging his blade in several arcs. The ogre flinched with each one and then met Sir Murith's piercing blade. It fell as others charged in, only to stop and rethink their bullish onslaught.
The War Chief bounded toward Lord Dunther. He smashed down his mace. Dunther deftly deflected its power with his incredible shield. The knights could not take on
a full frontal swing and always knew to give in to the powerful force of an ogre attack. They would meet the blow and flow with it. In amazingly crafted armour this was possible. They seemed like glistening dancers, bouncing and sliding away from each beastly swing.
Gorham and Murith were somewhat clumsy in their dance, taking on blows from hesitant ogres surrounding them. Wargog on his bear charged in as well. The bear grabbed Murith by the arm and crunched down only to find the steel resisted with incredible durability. Murith managed to slice the bear's neck.
The bear, in anguish, tossed Murith, who bounced across ogres and onto the rubble strewn grounds. Severely wounded, the bear showed rage in its eyes. It was so blinded by pain that it leapt upon an ogre and wreaked havoc amongst them. Wargog pulled out his secret weapon, a long piercing steel rod. He jabbed it into his mount's neck with tears in his eyes. “Sleep, my friend! Sleep.” The bear grunted its last breath and died on top of a dead ogre.
Many ogres charged after Murith as he got up and shook his arm. He flicked his fingers. It was okay. He turned to see a cadre of ogres charging at him with heavy blades and spiked maces. Gorham leapt in, slicing fingers and folds of blubber. He twirled through the behemoths, deflecting wild swings and finding exposed parts. Ogres flinched and fled in pain – having never experienced such torture from something so small and flighty!
The War Chief swung again and again, even in his bloated state of exhaustion. He was maniacally crazed, desperate to see this knight crushed. The knight countered with a slice across the ogre's hand. The War Chief grabbed at the wound and made an expression of pain – one he had never made.
“Remember me, War Chief?! I am Lord Dunther, Royal Knight to King Alfred! Ex-slave!”
The War Chief crouched, grimacing, for a moment. He finally summoned something the knights were not prepared for. He stopped and stiffened, quivering violently. His eyes suddenly filled with blood, becoming a deep scarlet fury. Veins popped forth in his thick ogre hide. He belted out a furious roar that stunned even his ogres and Wargog, who was still recovering from killing his mount.
Lord Dunther was ready to strike but found his strength suddenly taut. He struggled to move. Those few moments of near paralysis were enough for the War Chief to slam Dunther into the dirt.
“No!” Gorham shook out of his stunned fear, leaping forward.
The ogres realized they did not want to engage directly with the knights and began throwing their powerful stones. Gorham ran up and over a fallen ogre to reach Dunther. Just as he got there, he was pummeled by several stones, knocking him twirling into the air and a good distance off.
Murith tried to deflect the stones with his shield as he stood, but the ogres threw too many stones, each exploding all around him. He was finally thrown aloft and flung into the rubble.
The War Chief swung down upon Dunther again and again. Dunther was stuck in the dirt, but the armour held! Dunther tried to pull himself out of the deep impression. He finally raised his blade. The War Chief immediately stomped down on the hand, forcing the blade to drop. He pulled Dunther up and tossed him against a rock slab, preparing to crush him against it with his hammer.
“Die, puny knight!”
The War Chief raised his hammer and then saw it – a small brown mouse rushing out from under the rock slab. It sat there, looking up at the War Chief, raising its tiny paws.
The War Chief was stunned to see it. Then Alfred grew to his normal size and appearance right before him.
“Stop! I surrender! You can take me!” Alfred yelled.
“I killz him nowz! No more knight!” the War Chief roared.
“Take me hostage alone, and the knight and all the army will leave! We will let you go!”
The War Chief swung down upon Dunther and cracked his breastplate. In doing so, his hammer broke as well. Dunther gasped in utter pain, spitting blood.
“No!!!” Alfred yelled.
The War Chief saw that the other knights had recovered and were charging forth through the hail of stones. He saw gnomes firing javelins and girl archers appearing from the smoke and rubble. Ogres dropped from the hail of javelins and arrows. Hedor and his men charged in, attacking Wargog, who fell under their flanking blows. The boys and their wall of spears poked at retreating, flailing ogres. In the flurry of counterattacks the War Chief saw his only chance. He grabbed Alfred and rushed back to the few remaining ogres.
“Bakk off or I KRUSH him nowzz!” the War Chief yelled across the field of battle.
Alfred gagged as the War Chief held him tight. He looked like a rag doll being shaken about. The War Chief most certainly did not care for Alfred's well being.
Dunther, in his wounded state, reached up but had no strength left to fight. Verboden rushed out, cradled Dunther’s bloodied head and quickly administered stabilizing spells.
Gorham and Murith came to stand by – perfect silver warriors ready to charge in and fight. Behind them, girl archers and gnome troopers were ready to fire. And at their flanks, stood walls of spears. Loranna, her sister Niranna, Setheyna and Nubio, along with Hedor's men, snuck behind the War Chief and the last of his ogres.
Alfred looked down. Loranna was right below him. She aimed her bow up at the War Chief's face. Alfred waved her off. “Go! Shhhh!”
The War Chief looked at Alfred, who then pretended to be in pain. “Shhhh... oooot!”
“Shhhooot?!” Loranna asked? With a hand behind him Alfred waved to her to go away.
“Did you zay shoot?” the War Chief asked in a grumbling voice
“As an expletive! Not a command. Nobody shoot! I was just saying an... expletive. You know, grammar, uh, an interjectory word or expression! That's the one I could always remember! Cuz I use'em a lot. Cuz I'm in pain by the great War Chief!”
The monstrous ogre snorted, breathing heavily. “Tell dem to all get backz now!!”
“Good idea!” King Alfred said. “Everybody, including secretive folk who don't know what is about to happen, get back! Time to make some space!” Alfred tried to glance down at Loranna.
She was confused. She saw Verboden waving her out. She was frustrated but relented, hurrying away.
The War Chief suspected something and pulled Alfred close to him, growling manically and very odorous. Alfred coughed a bit.
Dunther sat up with Verboden's help and said hoarsely, “...attack...”
Verboden patted Dunther on the head.
It was a very tenuous standoff.
“I hab you now boy kingz, Alfredd! And I don't likez you! Maybe I should juzt chompz you nowz!”
“Oh, didn't Gorbogal pick you because you’re slave raiders? Doesn't she want me captured and taken to her?”
The War Chief grumbled. He looked at his beaten and weak ogres. He only had a handful left, and all were wounded and worn. He snorted and looked at Alfred.
“I thinkz I muzt take your very breathz from you!”
“...no.....” Dunther gasped, standing up, his armour cracking. Verboden was trying to get him to sit back down, but Dunther was more capable than Verboden realized. Hedor and his men were ready to attack, but the ogres were still formidable, holding up their deadly stones.
“Hey, that was my idea!” Alfred said.
A sphere of air,
radial out,
seal from me
and come about.
Alfred took a deep breath, raising his free hand. Suddenly, a rush of air seemed to come in from all sides and sweep over his open palm. A swirling marble formed there. It was the size of one of the ogre’s large throwing stones. It swirled in his hand like a sphere of swirling miniature clouds.
The War Chief and the ogres began gasping for air. He dropped Alfred and gripped his throat, gaping in sudden convulsions. Ogres are incredibly tough beasts, but when it comes to oxygen, they need a lot of it and in very immediate terms to feed big blubbery masses such as theirs. Some of the ogres fell instantly.
Gorham and Murith wanted to charge in, but Verboden held them back.
Alfred stood there and pointed at the War Chief. He tried to speak in a calm, deliberate manner but realized that he couldn't make any noises. There was no air to carry the vibrations of his voice! He gulped and exhaled his breath and realized – oops, he hadn't worked this all out. He tried to step outside of the shimmering sphere of vacuum that he felt.
The War Chief looked up and with an angry sneer leapt at Alfred. Pinching the marble ball of air with thumb and finger, he smacked Alfred away. Alfred flew out into fresh air and took a deep breath, only to have it punched out by a hard land.
“Ooooof!”
Loranna was nearest and scurried to him. “Are you okay?!”
“Ooof!” Alfred oofed again... as she plopped upon him. “I practiced the spell but never practiced my surrender speech in it! I didn't get to offer him a surrender! Can't talk in a vacuum! Oooo.. please... get offff.. mee....”
“Oh sorry,” said Loranna, rolling to one side.
They looked up to see the War Chief swallowing the marble sphere. He was gulping for air but still suffocating.
Then the sphere of air instantly collapsed, causing a deafening thunderclap and knocking the ogres over. Though stunned, they gasped and coughed, trying to breathe in the new air. Just as they did, Hedor and his men, the boys with spears, the girls with bows, the gnomes with javelins and the knights with blades surrounded them.
Alfred, finally getting enough air, stood up to say, waving his lecture finger about, “As I was going to say... which I realize I can't say in a vacuum... cuz there's no air... for vibrations... uhh... heh hum... so...”
The War Chief was still rubbing his neck and swallowing hard. He looked at Alfred with bulging eyes and a swollen neck. Then, as steam seemed to explode from his ears, nose and mouth, his belly expanded to enormous proportions.
“...concerning surrender...”
“Duck,” Loranna yelped as she dropped.
Ogre parts suddenly exploded outward with a fierce hot wind. The knights were knocked over by blubbery bits of ogre goo. Hedor and his men took the rear of the expulsions, which were brown and manure-like. Hedor fell backward on his own accord.
Alfred 2: And The Underworld (Alfred the Boy King) Page 38
