The dragon’s roar came, this time closer than ever. Bitrayuul watched as Crepusculus blew its corrosive breath in a line directly over Tormag’s corpse, adding insult to injury. His eyes went wide in horror as his father’s body began melting away from the burning acid. Furious, the half-orc warrior rose to charge. Yet, just as Bitrayuul was about to step into the open, he halted. This is what it wants. The dragon wanted to draw them out into favorable ground. Bitrayuul growled from beneath his helmet. Indeed, the beast was not unintelligent.
After three final slow passes above, Crepusculus grew bored. With a roar that pierced the mountains and stabbed at their ears, it landed. Each of the group peeked around their stone barriers to gaze at the awesome figure.
“Bothain’s beard . . .” Cormac whispered with an open-mouthed, awestruck expression.
Indeed, now that the Shadow One was in their presence, its sheer magnitude could be appreciated. It dwarfed the bunovir nearly five times over, standing nearly the size of a small castle. Its purple scales caught the little moonlight that remained. However, instead of sparkling, as most dragons were said to do, this shadow dragon emitted wisps of blackened smoke—a dark smog that spilled ever more shadows from its body. What a spectacle it was, to see the purple and black swirl together in a mix of pure beauty.
Crepusculus raised its head with dignity as it ‘spoke’ to the party telepathically. I am the Shadow One. The greater god of death and sorrow. You stand before a might you cannot hope to suppress. Join me and we shall know the likes of immortality.
Bitrayuul and Cormac looked to each other, unfazed by the empty promises of an evil being. Malice, too used to the many voices in her clouded mind, paid no mind to the words as she could not even recognize they were the dragon’s and not her own. The orc chieftain glanced at his companions to be certain none were interested in taking Crepusculus up on the offer as Raz’ja had done. He smiled as his expectations were confirmed. It would take more than the whispers of their enemy to halt them. In response, Fangdarr stepped out from behind his cover.
The dragon’s eyes narrowed as it recognized the orc. Ah, I remember you, Roaring One. To know that you stared a god in the eye and roared was a rush I had not witnessed in thousands of years. It took all my will to resist the desire to end you in that fateful moment. To allow you to feel the crunch of my jaw. The agony of my ‘fire’. Instead, you proved your strength before me, signifying your worthiness. You will serve as commander of my armies and be ruler of these lands once we have scorched them and wiped out all our enemies! Come to me, child, that we may bend these cowards to our will.
Fangdarr stepped forward slowly, as if accepting the great dragon’s promise of fortune. His allies sat and watched, fearful the orc may have been swayed. But, in their hearts, they knew otherwise. He would not abandon them. Not now. The chieftain continued his unthreatening approach toward the godly creature. Crepusculus gave a moaned grumble deep within its throat, pleased that Fangdarr would join its apocalyptic cause.
He stopped directly below the beast’s maw, still high in the air. Fangdarr looked skyward to the creature of doom before calling out, “Crepusculus! Shadow One! Deity of fallen and cleanser of land. Fangdarr Blood-drinker stand before you to eradicate those who oppose. Stare me in the eye once more, that I may prove my worth!”
Displeased to be ordered by such a lesser being, Crepusculus exposed its sharpened teeth with a low growl. Nevertheless, it lowered its head in respect toward the orc who remained unafraid in its wake. Finally, the shadow dragon’s enormous head stood across from Fangdarr, standing twice the orc’s height. The vibrant, yellow hue of its eyes contradicted heavily against the deep, dark purple scales that emitted black smog. With the light of day not yet upon them, the smoke nearly concealed the gargantuan figure. But the chieftain could not help but stare in awe at the raw beauty of the drake.
Beautiful, am I not? Crepusculus stated as if reading his mind. Fangdarr simply nodded in response and took a step closer with his hand outstretched to touch the glittering blackness of its maw, drawing a growl from the dragon. The orc continued unfazed, hoping to place a thick palm against the plated armor. The dragon once again seemed displeased at the insubordination but allowed Fangdarr to continue. While the great drakes of the ancient world were marvelous and powerful beings, they were prone to vanity. The dragon’s yellow eyes closed for a moment, reveling in the feeling of knowing it was so magnificent that one would risk their own demise to simply touch its jeweled hide.
CLINK!
Fangdarr stared incredulously at Driktarr in his hands, then back to the maw of the beast. His strike had landed cleanly against the edge of the dragon’s mouth with as much strength as the orc could muster in a single blow. Yet, not even a scratch was visible. Without a moment’s hesitation, Fangdarr turned around and sprinted for cover just as Crepusculus gave a mighty shriek that pierced their ears with such force they nearly bled.
“Fangdarr, run!” Bitrayuul called out from his shelter. Already he had knocked an arrow and let it fly toward the drake’s face in an attempt to stall the monster. It skittered harmlessly off the scales before ricocheting to the ground.
You dare strike me?! I shall consume you, rip you, melt you! Before this night is done, you shall know my wrath. You shall know nothing but fear and pain. Come, face me, coward! Stare into my face once more, orc. The words screamed through their minds with blinding pitch. They felt the dragon’s rage in their bones as its words hissed in their head with such venom. Crepusculus reared its head and neck, preparing to unleash a torrent of corrosive, tar-like liquid onto Fangdarr’s retreating form. Out it came, glowing bright like purple flames in the dim light of pre-dawn. The orc sprinted at full speed, nearly reaching a rock that would serve as a shield for the impending stream of death that rushed toward him.
Crepusculus barreled forward into the rocky arena, still breathing acidic fire with each step, creating a line of melting rock between the dragon and Fangdarr’s location. The party watched in shock as even the resilient stone of the mountain began to sizzle and wither away. It seemed neither armor nor shield would serve any purpose here. And, after watching Fangdarr’s giant axe bounce harmlessly off the drake’s impervious hide, they realized the folly of their task. But it was too late. The Shadow One had been stirred and would not relent until it had consumed all those who opposed it.
The stone behind Fangdarr hissed in protest before shriveling beneath the liquid. If he could only reach the barrier in time, he would be safe. Powerful bounds of his legs carried him swiftly forward as the air behind him trickled like electricity and the flickers of the flame licked at his backside. In the final moment, Fangdarr lunged behind the rocky outcropping to safety. He watched as his previous path was covered in the tar-like substance and sighed with relief. However, his solace was short-lived as Crepusculus continued charging in Fangdarr’s direction at full speed. The mountain shook beneath its clawed feet with each stomp, serving as drumbeats of doom for the orc. At each step, the chieftain felt the vibrations shake ever more beneath him.
Bitrayuul continued to launch arrows, though he knew it was pointless. Cormac, Malice, and Bear could only watch in immobilized horror. How could they ever hope to defeat such a creature? The bunovir had been barely culled by their team with Tormag by their side, and this devil equaled ten of those monstrous fiends! In what world did they ever think their goal could be achieved?
Cormac looked to Bitrayuul. With absolute certainty that left no room for question, the dwarf stated, “Bitrayuul, we must flee.”
The half-orc looked to the dragon and his trapped kin. He would not abandon Fangdarr, but the dwarf was right. This was a battle that would only end in their demise. Bitrayuul nodded in agreement, but added, “Not without Fangdarr.”
The dwarf did not argue. He had no intention of leaving his friend behind. Cormac called out loudly to the orc, “Fangdarr! It’s time to leave! Get out of there!”
Fangdarr wanted to reject the command.
He wanted—with every proud cell in his body—to stay and complete his task. For himself. For his people. For all. This was no longer just a personal task to dissuade his clan from war. He knew Crepusculus was on the verge of something tremendously terrible and could not be left unanswered. Alas, Fangdarr knew he did not hold the strength to quell the drake. The orc’s axe was no match for the dragon’s hide. That resounding sound of Driktarr reflecting against the armored flesh of his foe would ring forever. In that single blow, Fangdarr had felt more diminutive and fallible than ever before.
Peering past the quickly-withering stone that stood as the sole obstacle between himself and imminent death, Fangdarr waited. The pounding strides of the shadow dragon were quick and nearly upon him. There would only be one chance to escape the charge of the mobile beast. Its forelegs were as wide as the orc was tall, each ending in razor-like talons that would surely cut through his flesh without even slowing. Three paces away. Two. Now!
As Crepusculus appeared over the rock barrier, its left claw came whistling through the air. Fangdarr dove under the dragon’s arm with hardly a breath of room to spare, scraping skin against the cold stone, and smiled as his opponent’s arm whizzed harmlessly overhead. Rising to his feet once more, Fangdarr was up within a moment and sprinting toward his companions. The expression on his face turned to confusion as they all began pointing behind him with concern. The orc turned back to see the source of their attention, just as he was met by an incredible force.
After the drake’s claw swipe had failed, the mace-shaped tail had whipped heavily into the orc, bashing Fangdarr into the nearby face of the mountain. His heavy form paired with the strength of the attack managed to shatter the surrounding stone around the orc’s prone form and cracked more than a few of his bones.
Bitrayuul raised his useless bow again and pointlessly began launching arrow after arrow toward the drake’s head—even into its gaping maw—as it reared its head in preparation. Tears began forming in Bitrayuul’s eyes as the bright purple liquid could be seen deep inside the throat of its long neck, ascending quickly toward the open mouth of the dragon. Cormac, and even Malice, cried out in protest as they, too, watched in horror at the coming fate of their friend. Bear whimpered and whined incessantly, knowing what was about to occur.
Fangdarr still lay upright against the stone, blood trickling down his jaw from internal bleeding. He took note of the expression on each of his friend’s faces. The orc felt at peace knowing his presence would be missed. The proud chieftain hoped they would only carry fond memories of him. The warrior’s yellow eyes glowed purple as the dragon’s devastating flame broke free from its passage through the beast’s throat and out into the open air. Fangdarr strained to move even though his mind had accepted what was to come. Still, instinct took over and forced his limbs to wiggle. There were only moments before the flames would be upon Fangdarr, disintegrating him.
One arm broke free from its stone prison. With luck, the orc was not too injured. A handful of cracked bones, some bruising, and some very sore muscles on his backside were all that Fangdarr had suffered from being hurled into the mountainside. Another arm free. His eyes turned upward to see the growing light as it was only two spear-lengths away. Not enough time. Fangdarr roared as both legs simultaneously came free from the wall. This was it. He could not escape. The orc screamed out in a ferocious roar of defiance, refusing the be culled without his pride—his damned pride. Fangdarr’s body glowed bright purple, reflecting the illuminating beam of acidic fire as it drew closer. No escape.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
SECRECY
Bitrayuul clamped his eyes shut. He refused to add another awful scene to the growing bank of nightmares that would be sure to haunt him for years to come. Bitrayuul especially could not bear to witness this ending. To watch his proud brother’s bold frame stand vigilant against the torrential blast before crumpling away to dust was too much to endure.
Each of the half-orc’s friends had the same idea. All hid the spectacle from their view. Cormac gave a loud, guttural whimper that grated against the stones. The poor dwarf tried so hard to convince his legs to move—to charge into the line of fire and die in Fangdarr’s place—but he could not. Survival instincts kept Cormac rooted firmly where he stood. Crying out loud, the captain put his thick hands over his ears to muffle the impending sound of the orc’s demise.
In the final moment, Fangdarr looked to his friends once more. Only Bear had her eyes up to witness his passing. A smile formed in the corner of his mouth as he locked his gaze with hers. There was no fear in him—only acceptance. Fangdarr knew he had brought this fate upon himself. He turned from Bear’s gaze and stared directly into the stream of acidic fire that was now just out of arm’s reach. The orc’s pride would allow no less than to meet his death head-on.
The purple, flicking flames gave way to a pitch-black darkness that started just before him and spread immediately in all directions. Is this death? Had Fangdarr become so overwhelmed by pain that he could comprehend no agony? His vision was entirely devoid of color. It was all . . . nothingness—an unending abyss. The orc looked down at his arms—still fine. Fangdarr’s confusion was immense. He was not religious and so put no stock in an afterlife. Perhaps this was the realm of emptiness between life and death, and he would simply remain in this blackened void forever.
Almost as quick as it came, the pitch-colored void retreated. As it shrank away to nothing, Fangdarr realized this was no other realm, for Fangdarr stood in opposition to Crepusculus once more, who looked as puzzled as he. In a circle around the orc, the stone had been melted and still bubbled with the corrosive liquid that had been spewed in his direction.
How can this be? Asked the shadow dragon with eyes narrowed. It watched as Fangdarr looked around just as surprised as it, verifying the suspicion that the orc had no part in the black globe that had saved his life.
Despite averting death and being across from one of the realm’s most terrible creations, Fangdarr simply shrugged in response. Bitrayuul, Cormac, and Malice each opened their eyes upon hearing the dragon halt its breath, expecting to see nothing left of Fangdarr but a corpse.
“Fangdarr?!” the half-orc warrior yelled in surprise, followed by a cheer from Cormac.
Bear was just as excited that her master had been unharmed. However, she was the only one who had witnessed the spectacle and thus had seen the origin of the abyssal blackness that had blocked the drake’s attack. The beast let out a small groan and strode forward reluctantly. Thinking the animal aimed to rejoin Fangdarr, the three remaining companions started to pursue her. Their movement caught the dragon’s attention.
“Look out!” Malice cried out as she pointed to the reared head forcing yet another torrent through its throat.
Fangdarr watched as his friends took up defensive positions behind their barriers again. His eyes glanced between his draconian opponent and his friends. The orc wondered if he should attempt to go back on the offensive, or simply hide with them. Both seemed futile. What sort of assault could he hope to unleash against an enemy of this magnitude? More so, how long would they be able to hide before the entire field was littered with a layer of melted stone, preventing their retreat? A decision needed to be made. Now.
Just as the chieftain started to open his mouth to command the group to run away, a large, stygian spear launched itself toward Crepusculus’ open maw. This was no ordinary spear, however, as it forced the dragon’s jaw to clamp shut and knocked it back a step. Fangdarr’s eyes went wide with surprise at the tremendous force behind that seemingly magical blackness.
Rahh! Show yourself, fiend! Crepusculus shouted telepathically. Come. Face death!
As if in response to the taunt, another spear of pitch-black magic soared through the air before connecting against the scaled torso of the monster. This time, the dragon was prepared and hardly budged behind the force of the blow. The spear-like shape was enormous, yet the beast managed to shrug it off without concern. By the gods
, could this creature not be killed? Was it truly immortal?
Seeing that the dragon’s flame would no longer be unleashed, Bear barked to signify her continuation. Fangdarr leapt over the swirled mass of melting rocks at his feet and ran the remaining distance between himself and the party.
“What’s going on?” Bitrayuul asked impatiently. His orc-blooded kin could only shrug in confusion as well, for he, too, remain flummoxed by the mysterious interference.
Bear kept howling as she trotted forward at a light jog, beckoning the group to follow. They took off in pursuit of their furry companion as she ran along the wall of the mountain. The ground turned to an incline as they followed the stone face, leading them toward the summit. From above, they could hear the frustrated roar of their enemy as it continued to be the target of magical spears. After a short while, the group managed to come to a flat section where their eyes came across something they never expected to see.
A white-robed elf stood in front of the assembled troop. His long, golden hair whipped viciously in the wind caused by the swirling abyss in his hands. With grace that defied the result, the elf joined the two raging voids in his hands and pulled them apart to form a giant spear—the same spears that had been assaulting the dragon. Once produced, the elf stretched out a single hand. With his hair and robe violently pummeled by the rushing winds of his creation, the spear shot out from its suspended location without any movement from the elf. The group watched as it screamed through the air before colliding against the dragon’s head.
Orcblood Legacy - Honor Page 30
