Once he was down, he tried to put Zack down with some hard blows. To his misfortune, Zack couldn't evade them, but it took four blows for him to fall. After this, the Shaman went for a chair to break on Zack's head. But Zack jumped to his feet, picked up a leg of one of the broken chairs, and ran after him. He swung the leg of the chair between the Shaman's legs, flattening his balls.
That scream... I'm telling you, they must have heard it in Ess'yer!
Anyway, I guess I needn't mention that this broke the Shaman's momentum, and he fell on his knees. Zack then raised his right foot and kicked Tarakosh right in the face. Then, as our Shaman fell on the ground, Zack rushed back to the ladder and started climbing.
His attempt at getting to the top was accompanied by loud boos, but he didn't care. He climbed slowly and carefully, like he was afraid of falling off. Actually, he was. You see, he's got this fear of heights...
Anyway, he was climbing way too slow. He was almost up when the crowd started to cheer. The Shaman got back on his feet and managed to start climbing after Zack. Zack realized this, and he turned around to see that the Shaman is already a quarter way up. The Shaman stopped and smiled at him.
`You're not going up there, little man! I'll pull you down!'
Zack then looked on the ground behind the Shaman. The table he had dragged near the ladder earlier was right below the Shaman. Then Zack did the unthinkable. He jumped.
He jumped down on the approaching Shaman, caught him in the chest with his shoulder, and knocked him down. They fell right onto and through the table, breaking it into pieces.
Pinky was laughing hard, while all I could say was:
`Holy shit...'
The crowd took over in moments, and everyone started to say: `Holy shit!'
Zack and the Shaman both lay motionless on the ground, but eventually Zack got up somehow, and started climbing again. He reached the top without interruption, and grabbed the girdle.
He was having trouble unbuckling it, and so he couldn't remove it from the pole. He was getting pretty frustrated, and didn't notice that the Shaman was back on his feet. Thinking quickly, the Shaman pulled the ladder out from under Zack.
The crowd cheered, envisioning how Zack would fall. But he held on tight to the girdle, and was hanging from the top of the pole, twenty-five feet above ground! Then, the fastening to which the girdle was attached gave way, and Zack fell down on the ground, flat on his back.
`Holy shit...' I said, but the crowd didn't pick it up this time. No, you see, Zack didn't let go of the girdle. He lay there, on the ground, with the girdle in his hand. Everybody was guessing now, whether or not he was still alive. Sure enough, after over a minute, he finally moved his hand, and somehow got up, real slow.
Now, the rules state it clearly. The one who takes the girdle by any means, wins. So, despite how he fell, he won the duel. Pinky announced the result.
`My fellow orcs... Feast your eyes on the winner...' he said, slowly.
The crowd started booing. Loudly. Very loudly. Until the Shaman spoke out.
`Enough! Silence!' he yelled. The crowd went silent quickly.
`You'd better show him respect, or else I'll beat your asses even worse than I did his!'
Then he turned to Zack, and looked at him with fierce eyes.
`You are now the Shaman of Coldrock. You have earned the victory. I bow my head before you.'
Then he did exactly that.
`But don't think this is over. I will leave now. One day, I will return, and challenge you. Then... The girdle will be back where it belongs. Around an orc's waist!'
Then he turned around, and walked away. The guys let him out of the ring in shock. All of them were staring with a `Now what?' look on their faces.
I went to Zack and raised his hand into the air. He looked like he barely knew were he was. After that fall, no wonder. I barely knew how he was still moving...
`Coldrock! Praise your new Shaman!' I said. In response, with the exception of Pinky, everyone just silently walked home.
Who could blame them? A human was now the Shaman of Coldrock. Dark times lay ahead, they thought. Normally I'd have felt the same. But I was there when we killed Graa-bzacha. I saw a grand future for Coldrock. And right I was. Right I was indeed...
The Commander's dilemma
Summoning Chamber, City of Re'Cas, present day (1 year, 1 month, and 7 days before Twilightfall)
The door opens and four battlemages enter the Chamber.
`Where have you been?' I ask them slowly.
`We apologize, Commander Shyrn.' says one of them. `We were held up by...'
`I do not care about your pathetic excuses. Do you understand the difference between being on time and being late?'
`Yes, Commander.'
`Do you also understand the difference between having two hands and having only one?'
`Y-yes, Commander...'
`Good. Then do not be late again. And be glad I didn't ask if you understood the difference between living and not living... Get to work! I don't have all day!'
`Yes, Commander!'
They go to the nearest Summoning Gateway and begin reinforcing the wards. It takes them a minute but finally they finish the job.
`I trust each of you could do this on their own?' I ask them.
`Yes, of course, Commander. We just...'
`Then I suggest you don't waste time and split the task! One Gateway, one man. The sooner you're done, the better. I am needed elsewhere.'
`But it is safer if...'
`Do as I command!'
`Y-yes, Commander...'
Finally they begin to follow my orders and a couple of minutes later they finish reinforcing all the wards. To think they would have done this four times slower just because they lack confidence... Idiots!
`It is done, Commander.' one of them reports.
`Good. You can leave. I will check the wards. I assure you, if you made a mistake, I will know. And you won't like that... Now get out of my sights!'
They bow and silently leave the Chamber. As the door shuts behind them I seal the Chamber and get to work. It only takes a few minutes to sweep my spells through all the wards, but it is better to do this alone and undisturbed.
I begin casting the spell, starting with the Gateway to the Plane of Air, and then moving on to the others one by one. The spell strengthens each ward and adds the usual modification to them. Finally as the spell reaches the last Gateway, I smile. Everything seems to be in proper order. Good.
I dispel the seal and leave the Chamber. I wave my hand and teleport down to the entrance of the warrens. I go past the guards stationed there and head straight towards the most hidden part of the warrens. The area where we keep Ildardque.
I step into his room and place a magical seal on the door behind me. I step in front of the Death Knight.
So intimidating... A gigantic skeleton, almost the size of a troll, with a glowing rune on the forehead. His frightening appearance alone will be a lethal weapon when he steps onto the battlefield. But what is that compared to the power he wields...
Despite all the power within him, I need to alter the enchantments. He was not designed to control thousands of skeleton warriors. Now that Worriil decided that he wants a much greater skeleton army, I have no choice but to empower Ildardque once more. Before the new prisoners start pouring in...
`It seems your power will grow even greater today, Ildardque. Does that please you?' I ask. He does not reply. He does not move. The enchantments don't let him. He is under Worriil's direct control and until Worriil orders him to do something he will just stand there and do nothing.
I walk to the desk by the far wall and look through the various herbs and potions gathered there. I pick up a small sack filled with apple seeds and walk back to Ildardque. I pour some seeds into my hand and show it to him.
`Would you have guessed that such seeds can actually act as catalysts for a black magic spell?' I ask.
He doesn't reply. I frown.
>
`I'll take that as a no. I thought as much. You were always ignorant of magic, and of your own power. Truth be told, I feel sorry for you, given your heritage. A pity you don't even realize what you are. Or that by serving us you will even serve justice for a crime that happened ages ago. But enough of this. Let's get to work, shall we?'
I toss the apple seeds towards him and begin casting the spell. The seeds float in front of his face and line up to form a pentagonal pattern. As the spell progresses, the seeds change the pattern into shapes of various magical runes. After the ninth rune shape, the seeds begin to glow, and a minute later they ignite and burn to ashes in seconds. Now the real spell can truly begin.
Focusing on my black magic energies I unleash the power of the Dark Arts upon Ildardque and begin to increase and reshape his power. It takes about ten minutes but finally the spell is completed. Ildardque doesn't seem any different, but I can sense that the spell was successful. Good...
I take a deep breath and grab the chair by the desk. I sit down. This kind of magic is immensely exhausting. Worse yet, I shall have to repeat it at least another six times before the process is complete. It will take a few days...
Will it be worth it? Will it even be needed?
Sewareld can be such a fool sometimes. He suspects that the dragons will attack before his plan could come to fruition, but he has no idea just how close the time of their attack is. Nor does he know the true magnitude of the threat. I wonder what he'd do if he knew. Not like it matters.
He has to die with Jenathar. He must! I cannot let him lead us down the path he chose. His entire plan is foolhardy. It will not work. He is far too proud to see our own limits. We are the superior species of Arghard, yes, but we are not infallible and we are not invincible. He thinks this undead army is enough to conquer Ess'yer but he is wrong. It takes much more than this. Far more.
Most importantly, the time is not yet here to begin the assault. Not with the threat of Meliorath's arrival. It is her new army that must be stopped first. If Sewareld unveils the skeleton army as he planned, we will lose a tremendous tactical advantage.
The fact of the matter is that Sewareld may be a powerful mage and a masterful schemer, but he is not a good tactician. He doesn't know the first thing about how to fight a war. His plan will fall apart the moment we begin phase three. The moment we attack Ordhiar we will show true colors to the world and everyone will know our true intentions. No-one will stand for it and we will be facing greater odds than our forces can handle. That foolhardy old mage should know better than to fight all our enemies at the same time.
The correct strategy is focusing on Delamar. I told him that, but he wouldn't listen. He is just too proud...
We must stop after phase two and focus all our forces on conquering every square inch of Delamar, and then be satisfied with that for a while. Perhaps even a century or two. Let a new generation of humans grow up under our rule before we try to extend our borders further. There is no rush, our kind has plenty of time. Then of course, there's what he doesn't know. The dragons. Meliorath will attack the moment we initiate phase two. Even he acknowledged that this may happen. I however know that it will happen. Therefore we must focus on defeating the Barons as soon as possible so that we can then focus on Meliorath's army. We need allies for that. Ordhiar must stand with us if we are to prevail. If we are to survive.
Perhaps we shouldn't even initiate phase one before Meliorath's forces attack. Perhaps we should wait until the dragons are defeated. Yes, perhaps that would be even better. Let the armies of Delamar expend their strength fighting the dragons. Yes... Perhaps we should just allow Ordhiar and Delamar to declare war on each other after all. Then Meliorath would strike at them after a few months of heated warfare, they would then weaken each other while we lay in wait for the right moment to strike. Ildardque's army could easily overwhelm the dragons if the orcs and the humans weaken them first. After the dragons are routed we could attack Delamar claiming that it was their fault that the dragons came. Ordhiar would even support us. We may have to share Delamar with the orcs after the conquest, but perhaps this would be for the better. The dragons pose a far too great threat to be taken lightly.
Yes, this plan sounds plausible. I shall have to think on it more. Think about details. See if it really could work. Either way, one thing is certain...
Sewareld must die with Jenathar. I have to make sure of this, and I still don't know how to do that. If Jason Vogan finally made his move, I could use him, but there is no sign of him. Perhaps he will not arrive in time. Perhaps by the time he makes his move, Sewareld will have already ordered me to kill Jenathar. Then what will I do?
I just don't know. But I have to find a way.
Slowly I stand up and look at Ildardque. He is as motionless as ever. Does he know? Does he have any idea what's going through my mind? Not that it matters. But it is a real shame that I cannot use him to slay Sewareld. Although...
Although there might be a way. But I shall have to think long about this...
A piece of history
Beheaded Buddy Tavern, Coldrock, present day (1 year, 1 month, and 7 days before Twilightfall)
`So, that's the story.' the albino orc says, finishing the tale. `This is how he became the Shaman of Coldrock. And you know what? I always knew he'd do this place good. But most people didn't accept him for a while. I mean, imagine, a human being the Shaman of an orc tribe? On top of that, a guy who declares on his first day as Shaman that he does not want to be called by the traditional title of Shaman? He wasn't very popular...'
`So, how did that change?' I ask.
He slips some of his ale down his throat and then gives out a huge burp. I'm surprised Jase didn't get fed up with this habit of the albino orc.
`Well,' he continues, `it took a while. He didn't really care whether anybody liked him. But he was also rarely around. You know... Zack is a planar traveler or whatever it's called. He only comes here for about a week or two every three-four months. The first time he left, he appointed me to be his second in command. So I'm in charge when he's away. So, essentially, I'm in charge most of the time. The guys got used to that after a year, and they slowly didn't mind the real Boss's occasional presence any more. But they only started liking him when he started organizing these music shows.'
`How did he start that?'
`Well, one night when he was here about two years after he became the Boss, some of the guys were playing music in the tavern. The Monsters of Coldrock. They ain't bad now, but back then they sucked. I mean they really sucked. Zack however saw their talent, and decided to help them improve. A day later he came back with some magic trinkets that played music, the sort we'd never heard before. It was some kind of extraplanar music. He said that he found the relics in an abandoned place somewhere, and could only tell that they originate from a world other than the one where he found them. Sadly, he never found that place, but the music was awesome! The first time we heard it, we loved it. So the guys started trying to practice based on that.'
`That helped?'
`Not at first. When Zack came back about four months later, he heard how much the guys still sucked. So he decided to help them out by magically imbuing their instruments to better imitate the sound of the music on those trinkets. He suggested them to try and play those songs instead of their own. You've got no idea what kind of a success that was.'
`Really?'
`Yeah! News of the musical magic trinkets he had brought earlier spread like wildfire, everybody came to listen, and they all loved it! So when they heard there was a band trying to play this music live, everybody went nuts with anticipation! When the day of the show came, everybody was here, even some guys from neighboring settlements came over. The show was a huge success! Suddenly, everybody wanted more of it.
The band considered renaming themselves to Monsters of Metal. The name was inspired by the metallic sound of the music itself. You know, it gives you that swords clashing kind of feeling when you listen. In
the end they just stuck with the original name, so they could rub it in to everyone who told them that the Monster of Coldrock sucked ass...
Then Zack started organizing more shows. As years passed, the audience started to grow. Even visitors from other worlds started to come here, just to hear our band playing the strange extraplanar music that Zack found somewhere in the Multiverse. We had to build that huge underground dungeon that Zack likes to call the concert hall, and we had to build more and more levels atop the original tavern for guest rooms. Not like the new building has place enough for all of the several thousand people that come here for each show, but there's plenty of space to set up camps in the large plane just to the south of the town. Needless to say, it's always full! Trust me, the shows were a huge success from the first day!'
`This made him popular here?'
`Oh yeah! Absolutely! This made everybody like him. He's done more for us here in Coldrock than the greatest orcish heroes of our history combined! We used to be just a simple village, now we are a thriving metropolis! Well, maybe it doesn't look like it on the outside, but we feel exactly well how much better life is now than ever. I mean, can you imagine how much profit we're making on this? It's huge! We're fucking rich! Who would have thought that all this would be accomplished by a human who keeps being our Boss only because he thinks that our cook is the greatest cook in the Multiverse...'
`If this place is so good now, don't you have bandits who attack you, try to plunder the town?'
`Sure we do...' Again, he takes a sip, and burps aloud. `But we're tough guys, and Zack left us some undead guardians to help us in times of need, in case things get tougher than usual. We didn't need them yet though... He also cast some protection wards on the whole town, serving to protect us against a massive magical attack, should it ever come to that. Of course, if he's here, we usually just take care of intruders ourselves, like back in the day when we first fought together. Just the three of us: me, Pinky, and him. There are no odds that the three of us cannot take!'
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