The Fallen Guardian tgc-2

by Steven R. Burke

  After the planning session, the captains and commanders jumped into action. Anyone watching them would not have noticed anything suspicious about their movements, and their troops did not question the change in the strategy. They figured that this plan came from the king, and none of them dared to disagree with him. They all respected his wisdom and his concern for the welfare of the people. However, they also knew that his logic was sometimes flawed or marred by external forces. Despite his weakness, he was still the best ruler they had had in the past few hundred years. They had prospered greatly under his peaceful reign, and that, more than anything else, was the reason they kept their plan secret. They did not want him to know that they were questioning his orders. By being extremely prepared, their king would not know that his orders had been altered.

  Giants and Elves

  The black clouds that hung over the city of Tarisdell did not seem to show any signs of breaking up. They had been there since the surprise attack by the black dragon and its unidentified rider. The rain that had started after the hail of fire had continued uninterrupted every day since then. Three days had passed, and the battle for the capital city of the elves raged hotter than ever before. The giants had arrived at a crucial point for the elven guard who had been defending the northern wall. Commander Yves Silinadiel had organized his archers into a formation that provided his foot soldiers with maximum protection while still being able to inflict serious damage on the high elves. Despite this brilliant strategy, they were outnumbered and were falling fast before their attackers. The coming of the giants had turned the tide of the bloody struggle at the northern outer wall and saved many lives.

  While Commander Yves held off the assailants in the north, King Ciel had called a meeting of the high council and invited the two druids who lived with the elves to attend the special session. Everyone who had showed up for the king’s impromptu meeting fidgeted nervously while the storm overhead raged on with such ferocity that it was almost possible to not hear the sounds of battle taking place in the south and the north. The two druids stood stoically in the open while the rain soaked them all the way through their cloaks. They seemed to be lost in thought as they waited for the king’s guard to screen everyone who was planning on entering the Earane Minyatur. The crowd outside the main entrance could see the king approaching from the backside of the building surrounded by his guard, who were acting as his shield against an attack.

  After a few minutes of standing in the deluge, everyone entered the hall and stood by their seats waiting for the king to signal for them to sit down. One of the druids, Verandos Tenowernal, flicked his hand at the cauldron in the middle of the room, and a nice, warm fire burst into life. Immediately the room became much more comfortable, and the atmosphere eased slightly at the welcomed warmth. The king smiled slightly at his impatient druid friend and winked his approval. Chairman Aerasrril then motioned for everyone to take their seats. He then promptly took his seat, and the council turned their attention to the king. They were waiting to hear from their leader and were becoming anxious once again as the sounds of battle became clearer over the booming thunder and pounding rain.

  “We are under attack by the treacherous villains who seceded from the body of our great nation several months ago. They have laid siege to the northern outer wall and have a force that numbers some forty-five thousand strong,” explained the king dejectedly. He was not even standing as he said this because he had not slept since the attack by the orcs at the southern gates.

  “King Ciel, are you all right?” asked Lady Bernadine Trylendorbri, the other druid sitting next to Verandos.

  “I am just tired; that is all,” replied the king. “As I was saying, the force in the north is large and well organized. They would have taken the wall already if it were not for my friend, Chief Angus of the giants. They have surrounded the high elves, as they like to be called now, and have drawn them back a short distance from the northern gates.” There was a collective sigh heard around the table at this news.

  “What of the attack at the southern gates? Who was that on the dragon, and what is going on now down there?” asked one of the council members anxiously.

  “Excellent questions. We do not know who was riding the dragon, but it was clear that she was trying to get our attention. She wanted our eyes turned toward the north where the high elves were preparing to assault us. We obliged them and did not notice the enormous army of orcs in the south. There are about three hundred to three hundred and fifty thousand orcs either attacking or getting into position at the southern end of Tarisdell,” explained the king with a hint of disgust. “We need an army, and we need one now.”

  “I will lead them, King Ciel,” said Verandos in reply to this last statement. “I will round up all those who can and are willing to fight.”

  “Thank you, my friend. Will you lead the army you gather to defend the southern walls?” asked the king without much enthusiasm. He was looking worse with each passing moment, like his health was declining right before their eyes.

  “I want Anlon Marowael to be my first commander,” said the new general. “Do you accept?” He turned toward the sturdy elf as he spoke to the proven warrior.

  “Of course, General Verandos,” replied Anlon with a salute to his new superior. “What are your orders?”

  “Gather up a considerable force, and head to the north to help the beleaguered Commander Yven’s archers,” ordered the general.

  Without another word being said, Commander Anlon did an about-face and left the council chambers. “I would ask that Lady Bernadine come with me to the southern gates.”

  “No problem, Verandos,” replied the quiet druid. She viewed the general as an equal, so she did not use his new title when she spoke to him.

  “King Ciel!” shouted as voice from the double door entryway. The person had thrown the doors open and stood there covered in mud and blood trying to catch his breath. Before he could say anything, five unbelievably tall creatures entered the council room. They had to bend over quite a ways to enter the low-slung entryway. The five giant leaders then stood tall and looked imperiously down at the little elves sitting around a small fire burning in a cauldron. Lord Marcello raised his staff into the air and sent a blue flame crashing into the little fire. Violent flames erupted high into the air and burned a bright blue color. Every bit of moisture in the room evaporated instantly.

  “We are here to assist you in your time of need,” said King Angus in a booming voice that drowned the sounds of war and weather out completely.

  “Welcome, my old friend,” answered the elven king as he stood up from his throne and bowed low to their larger than life guests. “What assistance can you offer us?”

  “We have noticed that you are under attack in the south by an innumerable army of orcs. We can send three-fifths of our forces down there to help with the defenses,” offered General Lang in a gruff voice.

  “I almost forgot to introduce ourselves,” began King Angus. “I am King Angus Vokias, ruler of the combined tribes of the giants.”

  “I am Lord Marcello Zomiria,” said the massive magician in a deep rumbling voice. “I am the commander of the king’s guard and our siege warriors.”

  “I am Commander Boaz Drelius, leader of the artillery forces,” said the gargantuan warrior with a slight bow.

  “I am Commander Gerodi Ramunus, leader of our warriors,” said the giant plainly.

  “And I am General Lang Emasar, leader of King Angus’s armies,” said the general imperiously as he folded his massive arms over his overly large chest.

  “We are overjoyed to have you with us,” replied King Ciel with a little more color in his cheeks. The appearance of the giants seemed to give him back a measure of his health.

  “As I was saying, we will send Lord Marcello and his siege warriors to the south to strengthen your defenses at the southern walls,” continued King Angus. “We will send Commander Boaz and his artillery units to the eastern wall to ensure the orcs do no
t try to enter from that direction. Commander Gerodi will protect the western wall and the central part of the city. I will remain here while General Lang returns to the northern wall to continue building up defenses while launching periodic offensive attacks.”

  “Excellent, we have a plan now, so let us put it into action right away,” said the elven king decisively. “General Lang, this is General Verandos. He will be commanding the southern troops while you command the northern. Do either of you have any questions?”

  “No,” replied General Verandos with a smile.

  “I have no questions either. I will say that you have chosen wisely, King Ciel. General Verandos is an old friend and a brilliant military strategist,” said General Lang with a humble bow.

  “It is good to see you again, Lang. Keep safe and remember, through patience comes true victory,” the druid said with a satisfied smile.

  “We will use my messenger owl to carry messages to the various leaders who will be engaged in battle. She will be able to fly undetected by our enemies and can use different methods of making her presence known to you. Got it?” asked King Ciel. The entire room nodded to show the king that they understood.

  The council members were dismissed, and everyone who had orders or needed to get to the battle areas departed immediately. The king was the only one who stayed behind sitting in his chair. He countenance seemed to fall again as dread and fear gripped his heart. He simply did not understand why his daughter was attacking him. What was even more troubling was the idea that Kishi had allied herself with the vile orcs of Mount Tarin. Why are you working with the very beasts that helped destroy the Eldar? He looked down at his hands and stared at nothing in particular for nearly an hour. He felt as though his soul was being ripped in two, and there was simply nothing he could do about it. War was never the answer, and it would not mend his broken heart or his shattered nation. This could very well be the end of the elves…just like the Eldar of old.

  ***

  As Lord Marcello approached the southern outer wall, his eyes were met with a sea of orcs swarming toward the city. He immediately sprang into action by taking off into a dead run toward the gates. He skipped the entryway and jumped up on the wall above the doors. He stretched his arms out with his staff in his hands high above his head. He muttered a series of spells under his breath, which caused several things to happen all at once. The clouds overhead turned an ominous purple color as they began to swirl. Twisters sprang up at various locations and began to sweep would-be attackers into the air. Hail the size of a giant’s head began to pound those that did not get swept away. Unnatural lightning strikes began to occur with increasing frequency. Instead of white and purple flashes of discharge, the color was golden. None of the orcs were hit, and they seemed to take heart because of this fact.

  As the orcs regrouped and pressed forward, they were taken by complete surprise by Marcello’s true purpose of his lightning strikes. Snakes had sprung up from the scorched holes in the ground. These reptiles were not like any other in the lands and appeared to be an extinct breed. These were the same creatures that poisoned thousands of orcs during the battle they fought with the peoples of Tuwa a thousand years ago. The Eldar had created the slithering beasts and had used them to drive the orcs back from their forest. The snakes had a camouflage pattern on their scales that made it impossible to see them until you had accidentally stepped on one. They were able to mimic their changing environment like chameleons. They averaged sixteen feet in length and could deliver their poison in one of two ways. First, they had enormous fangs that carried enough venom in one bite to kill five full-grown orcs. Second, they could spit their venom at their prey, which would eat through their skin or hide within seconds while poisoning them at the same time. There was another secret to these vile apparitions, and that was their eyes caused a person to go temporarily insane if they should meet its hypnotic gaze.

  Several howls of anguish and fear ripped through the already noise-filled air. Chaos erupted as a result of this deadly attack by the giant wizard. Marcello used the extra time created by his attack to position his siege warriors for an offensive. They were so well positioned that they would be able to utilize the same spots for defensive purposes. It was clear to the magician that they would need these protected areas in the very near future. His assaults had been nothing more than an irritant and a delay tactic. However, his actions were very effective and provided the giants time to integrate with the battered home guard that was still trying to defend the outer wall against an army whose numbers were unfathomable. Spears the size of trees were released into the sea of orcs by the giant defenders. These attacks eliminated several dozen orcs with each throw. The orc armies were becoming highly agitated because they were still out of their archers’ range and their siege weapons were still en route.

  Lord Marcello focused his attention on setting up a magical barrier as far out from the outer wall as possible so that the armies’ approach would be even further delayed. After he had finished with this task, he used his powers to enhance the integrity of the walls and all entryways. He then jumped down from the bulwark that was barely taller than he was and made his way back into the heart of the city. He had used a great deal of magic within a relatively short space of time once again and needed to rest. I hope that my efforts will be enough to delay those vile beasts from attacking long enough for me to regain my strength. He sat down in the king’s courtyard and leaned back against the fountain and began to sleep. It was an amazing sight to behold…a massive giant asleep in the midst of a full on battle. He had done his part; now it was up to the home guard and his siege warriors to fend off the seething mass of orcs while he regained his strength. He knew that doing so many complex spells so close together could kill him, so he was truly spent after his valiant efforts.

  While the giant leader slept, his siege warriors killed thousands of orcs and injured numerous others. Dead bodies lay everywhere a short distance from the outer wall. Even with the persistent rain, the smell of the deceased was rank and fetid. After a few hours, the protective barrier that Marcello had created gave way and the huge ballistae moved into place. Even after suffering staggering losses, the orc armies continued to push so that they were close enough to begin using their siege weapons. Massive arrows the size of a small black oak began to whirl through the air. The outer wall was hit repeatedly with these flying battering rams, and cracks began to appear. The magical shielding was beginning to erode, and the bulwarks were beginning to crumble as a result of this weakening. Large numbers of orcs rushed forward at the site of the failing magic with their huge ladders in hand. They were going to scale the now-unprotected walls, and they were going to make the pointed-eared fairies pay for their losses. They had not been confident because of the unexpected use of magic by one of the giants, so they were ecstatic with the opportunity before them.

  The southern wall was engulfed in a war of attrition over the next several days resulting in large numbers of orcs being killed or injured. The home guard was reduced to half their original numbers before their defenses gave way. The giants had suffered very few deaths and were the only reason why the southern part of the city was not yet overrun with the ugly brutes. Lord Marcello finally awoke from his slumber after four days and rejoined the battle. His return helped to push back the tide of orcs, and the wall was again enchanted with his protective magic, which prevented another breach for a time. The rains finally subsided, and the sky was blackened by the smoke from the forest burning in the southwestern part of the forest.

  It was at this point that General Verandos appeared out of nowhere. He had been missing since arriving at the southern gates. He had been scouting in his bear form and had learned just how big this army was that was attacking them. He also learned of the source of the fire away in the south. He had returned on the fourth day when Lord Marcello had awakened from his rest. As he approached the wizard, he had a look on his face that did not hide the severity of their situation. Any news that
this druid had was not good. The giant warlock looked down at his co-commander with a look of distress on his face. Marcello was not like other giants because of his magic capabilities and his inability to hide his emotions. He attributed the lack of control to his use of magic.

  “What have you learned?” asked Marcello at once.

  “There are three orc armies out there. I would have never thought that unity like this was possible with their kind. You have managed to put a dent in their numbers, but they are still over three hundred thousand strong,” reported the druid darkly.

  “How have they managed to put that large of a force together?” asked the giant rhetorically. “They were supposed to be limited in size as punishment from the last war. What about the forest?”

  “It appears that someone has set fire to it on purpose. They were trying to create a buffer between the armies of orcs and the Seda. At least, that is what I have deduced.”

  “Is that all you were able to accomplish on your trek?” Marcello was a little perturbed about the current situation and immediately regretted his insinuation.

  “I attacked several different areas of the rear, which helped slow their approach. I must say that your attack did more good than any of my efforts or the home guard for that matter. I salute you, master.” General Verandos snapped to and saluted Lord Marcello. The giant’s features eased, and a smile came across his face. It pleases me greatly that a druid recognizes my powers and respects them. We are going to get along just fine.