by TP Keane
*
A dense morning mist rolled down the hilly terrain, unaware that it caressed an army of foul creatures nestled between the tall tufts of grass. They had been waiting there for the better part of the night, unnaturally resilient to sitting in the dampness that it brought, unlike Aria.
She had taken refuge in a hollowed out tree, whose life had long since been drowned by the abundance of water, and preserved in the natural workings of the peaty bog. Despite her makeshift shelter, however, the cold had still crept into her limbs, and as the hazy sun rose she had never felt more in need of a hot bath, both to warm her and to rid her of the sticky mud. As much as it was a paradox in itself, she was in awe at the cleanness of her surroundings. The boggy air smelled pure and untouched by the industrial toils of man, and the green landscape rolled and dipped, uninterrupted by his engineering. If ever there was a place that Aria could say had been unspoiled by living creatures, it was this place. But all that was about to change.
"Good morning, My Queen," Edwel said cheerfully. "Isn't it a fine morning?"
Aria was about to tell him where to shove his "good morning" when she caught sight of the stone golem. Having stood outside her shelter all night, without moving, his heavy body had sunken into the soggy earth. All that remained of the massive stone man was his stupidly grinning head. It poked up just above the tufts of grass and she couldn't help but laugh. The stone man's mouth turned down into a sulk.
"I fail to see the humour in my predicament, Aria," he grumbled.
"Really? Edwel the positive, the jovial, the pensive, and always enlightened, fails to see the humour?" she mocked playfully. "Oh, Edwel. Surely you can see that a being whose sole desire was to understand what it means to be alive, finding himself one day to be only a head, is a little amusing."
Edwel's stone face became rigid as he pondered the question. His two black eyes searching the sky for an answer. In the time he had come to open his mouth again, Aria had ordered twenty of her ogres to dig him out.
"I suppose you are right," he replied with a small chuckle. The golem stepped out of his boggy prison with a squelch and a plop, his grey limbs dripping with brown mud. "In fact, I suppose that it could be the material of the finest court jester."
"Or life's satirical way of amusing itself," she replied under her breath.
Aria turned her attention back to the rolling hills beneath her. The exit to the dwarf mines lay some two miles to the south-east of their position. Luscious suggested that they lie in wait for them far enough away that any dwarfs guarding the exit wouldn't hear the cries of battle.
Only one path led through the vast bogland toward the elves, and it was paved with so many sunken limestone boulders that, beneath it, was more stone than bog. It would be unwise for the wizard to cross the quagmire anywhere else because, as Aria had learned by losing a few ogres to it, the bog consisted of deep puddles of muddy water that were too thick to float in. It had been a precarious task to find good hiding places without losing too much of her army. As it was, she was down to twenty-five worgen, fifteen ogres, Edwel, herself, and the Etherium arrow.
Despite the dwindling numbers, however, Aria was convinced that the king of the dwarfs wouldn't send an army to accompany Ol?rin and Aramus, given his allegiance to the Order of Everto. With that in mind, she was also certain they would easily outnumber them.
"Queen Aria," Luscious called out as she found her hiding place amongst her army again. "My scout has returned and he says that the wizard and winged man have left the dwarven city."
Aria's suspicion of how Luscious came to know the wizard's plans raised itself again, and she wondered if the dwarven king knew there was a spy amongst them, or if the king himself was the spy.
"How many do they bring with them?" she demanded.
"Two," he replied. "An overweight one and, if I am correct, the king's right arm."
"His what?"
"His right arm," Luscious said, snorting indignantly at her. "His most formidable warrior, the only one he has granted the right to wear the armour of the Gods. Although I am surprised that he has sent him. This dwarf is as much a prized possession to the king as his crown, and never normally leaves his side."
Aria was quite surprised too. If the king had truly given the Order of Everto his own Etherium armour, she expected that he would want to keep the other one near-by. Not only that, but if he favours the new order so much, why then would he help the son of Dantet at all? There was only one reasonable explanation which sprung to her mind. The king was betting on both sides; hoping, at the end of it all, that he would still come out in favour of the victor.
"How long until they reach us?" she asked quietly.
"Any moment now."
