The Kingdoms of Wala: Agnar and the battle of the Firemountain (1)

by Maximilian Lukas Aichele

  Agnar pulled his sword out of the dead Orc body and slew anyone he could catch.

  Meanwhile, Hjalprek shot at one monster after another. He shot with such a force that with only one arrow he pierced several Orcs at once.

  Grunting and crying, the pig riders rode back to the west gate, through which they came. For a brief moment it seemed as if the Orcs were defeated, but then screams were heard again:

  "THE CHILDREN! THEY HAVE CHILDREN!", cried a woman from her house, while at the same moment a pig-man passed Agnar, who was carrying a large flour sack on the back.

  The sack floundered wildly as cries and shouts came from him:

  "Help! Help!" Was clearly heard.

  Agnar saw no way to stop the Orc without hurting the children and even Hjalprek dared not to shoot.

  Unhindered, the pigman rode past and followed the other Orc's towards the west.

  Agnar watched him, wondering what he should do when at that moment his horse came riding to him, as if it knew it was needed. Quickly he swung himself into the saddle and took up the pursuit.

  The West Gate was quickly reached and lay in ruins. The tall stone tower next to it burned like a huge torch in the darkness of the night.

  The wild boars rode quickly and turned left, leaving the city, where they followed the course of the mountain chain.

  Agnar had big difficulty not to lose sight of the horde. The Orcs were much faster than he and they crossed the rocky landscape without losing speed.

  They had circumnavigated the mountain chain almost halfway through when the pigs suddenly struck a bow and rode eastward. There they found themselves again on an open grassland, where Agnar again could make soil well.

  It was so dark that one could not see the hand before the eyes. If the Orcs had not made such a noise on the road, Agnar would have lost the track of them. He tried as best he could, but his horse was not fast enough. So it happened that the pigs vanished behind the horizon and left Agnar behind.

  Apart from his horse, no one was with him. Agnar could not hear or see anything. He rode further in the direction where he had seen the Orcs the last time. It was so dark that he wondered if he really had his eyes open.

  Despite all the adversities, he rode forward without a break. He had already lost Uller and Geirröd and wanted to be damned if the children had the same fate.

  After a while a red light appeared on the horizon. The nearer Agnar came to him, the bigger it became.

  At first he thought it was a fire from the Orcs and held his sword already ready; But it soon became clear that the light was much too large to be a camp fire.

  Agnar puzzled for a long time what it was until he came across a narrow path. Then it was a little brighter and he could see what was lying in front of him. It was a mountain from whose summit hot gases and flames came. It was a volcano.

  The path led up to his foot, where a steep path began. Shortly before the path, Agnar came to stand and got off the horse. Whether the Orcs are ridden along here?

  He wondered what he should do. Back riding was not an option. The only right way seemed to be only the forward; the volcano. Fast now, before it's too late! he thought to himself and followed the path. He had to leave his horse, since after the long ride he had no strength.

  The ascent lasted several hours and was more difficult than it initially seemed. It was a long, stony path that became steeper with every step.

  He went up the volcano clockwise between brittle rocks and dead trees. Did the children doing well? He regretted that he had not struck the Orc who stole the children, but it did not help.

  He came closer and closer to the summit of the volcano and at about halfway up, these deep grunt noises were heard again. Somewhere nearby had to be Orcs.

  Behind a low passageway was a large area, where there were many, steaming puddles. There were no filthy mudflaps, but knee-deep earth holes, filled with clear water.

  They were hot springs, which made a very welcoming impression. Agnar would have liked to pull out the clothes and jump in, but there was more important at the moment.

  He followed the course of the area, which turned around a corner after a few meters. Suddenly he heard a snort. The sound was difficult to describe, as it sounded like a combination of burping and sneezing.

  Cautiously, Agnar saw around the corner, though he could already imagine what the sound had caused. Just like I thought. Orcs!

  In a bubbling spring at two Orcs, one of them sneezing. They had leaned their armor and weapons against the wall and were completely naked.

  It was a strange sight to see these disgusting creatures, like two children sitting in the bathtub. They were easy to kill for Agnar, but it was unclear whether there were more of them nearby. He had the element of surprise on his side, but he would not have been able to defend the attack of an entire orc army.

  Behind the two Orcs, Agnar discovered a small wooden gate. It was wide open and nearly torn out of the anchorage. He wondered if he was going to cross it, but he saw no way to do this, without attracting the attention of the two.

  "Think!", he said softly to himself and looked to the ground.

  Then he had an idea. He picked up a few small stones and threw them individually at the heads of the Orcs. He hoped that they would get out of the spring to see for the right and so to get away from the gate. But this was not the case.

  The Orcs don't recognize the hits and do not even scratch when Agnar met them right in the face.

  After a while Agnar wondered why the Orcs did not notice the stone throws. Either they do not realize it because their skin is too thick or they do not realize it because they are just too stupid. Probably both were true.

  Slowly it became brighter and the sunrise announced itself behind the high walls.

  Suddenly a loud cry came from the inside of the volcano. The earth shook and broke rocks from the walls.

  The two orcs jumped out of the spring bath and put on their armor. Then they disappeared through the small wooden door.

  Whatever had caused these noises, Agnar was very much concerned. Now the way was clear and he could pass unnoticed.

  He followed the Orcs through the wooden gate and entered a dark tunnel. On the first few meters, torches illuminated the narrow path, but soon came a section that was darker than the blackest night.

  Agnar groped slowly along the walls of the concrete, while he watched with his ears for noises. He struggled to hear something in the depths of the tunnel, but there was a deadly silence. Too quiet for his taste.

  After he had walked a few hundred meters, he felt uneasy. He felt observed. In between, there was always a slight cracking from behind, which caused him a shock every time. No matter how often he turned around, there was never anything to be seen. Although he was sure something was wrong, he went on quietly.

  Then something happened before him. The air shattered in a giant din and a chorus of snoring and moaning came nearer and nearer. The darkness was suddenly brightened by the light of a flame and a loud rant brought the walls to tremble.

  Agnar's nape-hair's straightened and a cold shiver ran down his back. As fast as he could, he ran back through the narrow tunnel.

  The earth trembled so hard that he thought the ceiling over him would collapse. The fear grabbed him and dragged him straight at the cold stone walls. The light behind him slowly became smaller and soon the exit was again in sight.

  It was only a few yards until he came back to the spot where torches illuminated the path, when he suddenly stumbled and fell to the ground. His foot was caught in a root and stuck.

  The roar and rumbling behind him grew louder again and came closer. As much as he tried to free his foot, he did not succeed. The thick root strands simply could not be unraveled. He was caught.

  Agnar lay on the ground and saw how suddenly an Orc army came running towards him. When they saw him, they roared and pulled their rusted swords. His end seemed now very close.

&
nbsp; There was no way to escape or fight. The volcano promised to be his grave.

  The moment when the Orcs were about to hit him, there was a crack and a wide gap opened on the wall. Suddenly he was grabbed by the side and pulled into the gap with a jerk. The roots around his foot tore out of the ground and fell off him.

  With a loud bang, the gap closed in the wall again and let the Orcs back on the other side.

  Agnar was back in the darkness and felt something around him. Even before he could ask himself what had just happened, something grabbed his legs and pulled him down a corridor.

  "Let him go!", he cried, trying to free himself with all his might. But it did not help. Whatever clung to him could not be driven out by kicks.

  He could not see anything in the dark, but whatever it was, it was no Orc.

  Where are the children?

  So it went on for quite a while. The creature was not realy squeamish with with him. Like a potato sack, Agnar was ground over the stony ground, banging his head again and again against rocks.

  At every opportunity he stepped or threw stones, which he could seize at the edge of the road; But they simply crashed at the back of the unknown creature and produced a loud and at the same time hard bang.

  Agnar could not explain what that might be, but he did not feel well.

  "Ey, stop stepping on me!" The creature said at once.

  Agnar was frightened and stopped abruptly to fight up.

  "Who is there?", he asked.

  "I am Gymir!", was the answer. Agnar was as smart as before.

  "Where are you going to take me and why are you cleaning the floor with me?"

  "This place is not good be!", said the creature, who called himself Gymir.

  For Agnar it was slowly grew too colorful and drew his sword. Then he struck the spot where he suspected Gymirs hand. Sparks flew and a hard bang sounded, but otherwise nothing happened.

  "Let it be!", said Gymir. "You can be a little more grateful, after all, I saved you from the Orcs."

  Agnar was still angry at how he was being treated, but he realized that he was not in danger.

  "Can I at least ask where you take me?", asked Agnar.

  "I'll take you to Etlindal. That's where I live.", Gymir answered.

  "That's nice, but would you mind letting me go? I have two healthy legs and am quite capable of using them."

  "As you wish."

  Without warning, Gymir let go of Agnar's legs and threw him in the dirt. He wanted to stay there for a while, but shortly after his hard landing he was seized by the collar and pulled on his feet.

  "So better?", Gymir asked.

  "Yes, thank you!", Agnar replied with suppressed anger.

  Suddenly a fire lit before Agnar's nose and he saw for the first time his rough savior. It was a creature that could be best described as a stone-golem. His whole body consisted of sand-colored stones, which were similar in their form to human beings. Apart from his very strong upper body, he did not make a particularly dangerous impression. He was only slightly larger and more angular than the people at that time. In his right hand he held a burning ball, whose flames produced a bright light.

  "Come with me!", said Gymir and illuminated the way. Then they went along a low tunnel, which led deeper and deeper into the volcano.

  At the beginning of there journey was it quiet, but voices and drum sounds were soon heard through the cold stone walls.

  Suddenly Gymir stopped and laid his hand on the tunnel wall. Agnar looked attentively at him and thought again of the children.

  Then the earth shook and Gymir pressed a circular hole in the wall. The chants and drum sounds suddenly became very noisy and a warm beam of light seemed to Agnar's face.

  It took a moment for his eyes to get used to the brightness and he could see the world beyond the rock wall.

  "Welcome to Etlindal!", said Gymir.

  Agnar entered a world which he did not know from his books or from Uller's stories. He saw a huge, cave-like village, where innumerable buildings were beaten in the rocks. It stretched over several floors, connected with dozens of stairs and walkways.

  The village was so deep in the volcano that one searched for fresh air and sunlight in vain. It was so stuffy that breathing was difficult. The only source of light was a huge chandelier, with large candles, hanging from the ceiling in the middle of the cave.

  On one of the lower floors was a drum circle, in which a choir was singing. Everywhere were stone-golem's going around, which were similar to Gymir.

  Although they made a rather primitive impression, they seemed to be capable of doing fine work. This was especially evident visible in the facades of the many houses, which were all lovingly and individually decorated. Agnar did not come out of the astonishment.

  After a while Gymir patted him on the shoulder and ordered him to come with him. Then they went up a flight of stairs, past a camp of water and oil jugs.

  On the way, Agnar discovered a room in which two stone-golems struck stones from the volcano rock. As he looked closer, he noticed that some of the stones were moving on the wall. The two stone creatures cautiously grabbed the pulsating point and pulled out another stone-golem. This straightened up immediately and helped the other two at work.

  Agnar was fascinated. He had just been able to observe the birth of a stone-golem with his own eyes. When I tell that Uller! He thought and frightened at the same time. The reality had taken him back at that moment. What about Uller? What about Geirröd? What about the children? The list of his unresolved questions was getting longer.

  At the top of the cave was a large tent, made of thick linen. Before its entrance stood two stone creatures and stood guard.

  Actually Agnar wanted to be back in search of the children, but he could not find an opportunity to tell it Gymir.

  Inside the tent was a fire, in which there were innumerable larger and smaller stones. The interior walls were provided with drawings and runes inscriptions from top to bottom. It almost seemed like they was telling a story.

  Gymir put on a red robe and turned to Agnar.

  "Well!", he began. "With whom I have the honor?"

  "I am Agnar!"

  "Nice to meet you, Agnar. I am Gymir, the oldest and highest ranking here in the Firemountain. Did you lost your way?"

  "One could say that."

  Then Gymir grabbed in the fire and took out a stone, into which he bite like an apple. The fire did not seem to bother him.

  "Which way did you look for?", Gymir asked.

  Agnar was still unsure if he could trust him. "A few orcs have kidnapped the children of Borea and I'm here to get them back."

  Gymir scratched his chin and nodded. "I understand. Has the King of Wala sent you?"

  "Yes!". Agnar replied, without thinking magnificently. Strictly speaking, this was not true, for the only thing he really had from the King (the Prince) was his passport; But he did not want to tell him his whole life story and hoped that he could finish the conversation faster so he could look for the children again.

  Gymir broke into a huge laughter. Agnar looked at him in surprise and tried to remain polite.

  "How long do we ask the King for help, and what does he send us? A boy who's stumbling over his own feet.", said Gymir.

  This statement made Agnar angry, but he did not let it show. Instead, he gave him a mild smile and crossed his arms.

  "You do not trust me?" he askend.

  "Do not take it amiss, but I had imagined something else.", answered Gymir.

  "The Orcs are no problem for me, do not worry!"

  "It's not the orcs that worry me." Gymirs laughter stopped abruptly and he became serious. "Some time ago, everything was different. We all lived high up, at the summit of the volcano, and had a carefree life. Then came the day that changed everything. A knight with black armor came into our village and forced us to choice. We should either capitulate and surrender our homeland, or make us sure o
f death. As we refused, the knight send us an Orc-army. They attacked us in the middle of the night and killed everyone who ran across them. We had no chance. To save us, we ran through the tunnels down to this cave. Then we closed the paths with stones and thick rock faces."

  Agnar was visibly moved by this story. He could feel Gymir's suffering.

  "But that was not all.", continued Gymir. "The black knight did even more. He drew his burning sword and spoke a curse, over the volcano. Thereupon the sky darkened and lightning strikes into the lava. With my own eyes I saw a blaze of hell, rising from the lava and bowing to the dark knight."

  Agnar remains the heart almost standing in fright. Black Knight? Burning Sword? This can not be the same knight as in my nightmare, or is it? And what kind of blaze of hell is that?

  "What happened then?", asked Agnar, after a short break.

  "The Orcs occupied our village on the summit and have been using it as a base. The Black Knight moved on after some time and leaving behind us this flaming creature. I have never seen this hell-beast leave the summit; but it seems to move. Screams are constantly heard and the ground suddenly begins to shake." Then he hit a wooden beam with his fist, which created a thin crack. His conscience seemed to torment him. One could clearly see fear and frustration in his eyes.

  "Why don't you defend yourselves and drive the Orcs out of your kingdom again?", Agnar asked.

  "We are not people of fighters.", Gymir replied. "We have never had to fight a battle and we have no weapons. Moreover, we know nothing about this hell-beast. It could emerge from the darkness at any time and kill us all before we can understand what's happen."

  Agnar had great pity with the rock Golem. His initial mistrust had long since blown away.

  "What else do you know about this black knight?", asked he.

  Gymir crossed his arms and thought. "Not much. He called himself Surt and sayed, that he is the King of the Desert. Everything else you already know."

  "Is he the leader of the Orcs?"