Elberon began to discuss his trade and then spoke of his dwarven friend Tidor Stonesmasher when he noticed Katriel’s eyes looking over his shoulder to behind him. The priest stopped talking and began to turn to see what it was that caught her attention. As his body rotated he was grabbed in a strong embrace and picked off the ground.
“Ahhh of course you made it you son of a bitch!” An excited voice said as Elberon was squeezed and lifted. He was returned to the ground and looked with complete delight and utter surprise at his closest friend Ostinus, whose long brown hair was tucked behind his ears and his goatee looking over grown.
“What in the name of Phelios?” Elberon could not understand what had happened. He had not seen the men enter the city as he was behind many soldiers at that point and already tending to the wounded. They hugged again and laughed.
Ostinus turned from his friend and noticed Katriel. His eyes locked on hers and Elberon introduced his friend to her. “Katriel, this is my dearest friend Ostinus Deenor.”
Before he could finish his words, Ostinus had grabbed her hand and raised it to his lips. Bowing his head he kissed her hand and said, “The pleasure is all mine.”
The priestess blushed “Greetings Ostinus, I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“I promise, he’s not as terrible as I made him out to be,” joked Elberon and the three laughed. “What the hell are you doing here?” The priest asked the obvious question.
“A raiding party of orcs had burned and pillaged the lands outside of each of the three cities, murdering any workers who were unfortunate enough to be outside the city walls. The council of Lunemire instructed a group of us to hunt down the raiders and slay them. Instead we found the army attacking this city. We knew Victus’s men were hard pressed. Some of our men went back to Lunemire, but most stayed.”
“How brave.” Katriel said in an exaggerated yet seductive tone.
Ostinus met eyes with her again and continued. “We could not find a chance to attack without charging in to our own demise. We thought the cause was lost. There seemed to be no hope, no way to prevent your army from being vanquished. Our squadron was less than forty men and we knew we could offer not meaningful support… but then the dwarves came. They blew their horn and charged. Still the time was not right, but the Faletonians did not know we were there, perched on the far side of a hill to the south of the city. They pushed their magic users away from the dwarven assault as they tried set up a defense. The vile shamans began using wicked magic to strengthen their soldiers and punish the dwarves. They were right in front of us, unprotected, so we pounced. Soon after our charge the beasts were pushed back and fled and that was the end.”
“This is all so difficult to believe.” An incredulous look was on Elberon’s face; his hand rubbed his blond beard, which was longer and more disheveled than normal. “My friend, Katriel and I have a lot to tell you. The siege of this city is a legendary story, like no other you’ve heard in your twenty three years.”
A waling cry came from inside the building that Elberon and Katriel had just left. Ostinus gave the two priests a concerned glance and began to move towards the door.
“You don’t want to go in there,” Elberon said as he stopped his friend. “The wounded and the dying.”
“Go on and catch up with each other. I will return to helping the injured. It was nice meeting you Ostinus and I will see you later Elberon,” Katriel said and made her way to the door. More groans could be heard as she opened it slightly and entered. Ostinus and Elberon walked away from the dreary place and began to chat although the priest would soon return to further help the wounded.
Chapter 25
Neemno stood over a fire along with Bazik. His army had retreated and those who had fled the battle were now all assembled a couple of miles from the lost city of Southland. Victory appeared to be within their grasp, but the arrival of a thousand dwarven soldiers changed everything. It was a devastating loss for Faletonia.
“We believe we have regrouped completely and know how many were killed,” said Bazik.
“Tell me,” ordered Neemno and he looked at Bazik. “What a good commander.” He thought but did not say.
“We have lost about two thousand soldiers and all of the ogres. Only two of the giants have survived. One, Zain, remains with us and the other regrouped with us but then unexpectedly ran off in a panic, stating he was heading back to his home in the far west.” Bazik paused before continuing. His tone changed. “Ayliki is dead, killed by what appeared to be a blow from a dwarven war hammer. All but one of our shamans have also died. He somehow used his magic to save himself.”
Neemno’s face warped to an expression of anger. Tusks emerged from his mouth as he fidgeted in his light plate armor. “Will Zain survive?” He asked, referring to the sole surviving giant who was severely injured.
“I believe so, although his wounds are many.”
“We must keep the soldiers together and not allow chaos to set in. Our soldiers must not lose their belief in what we are doing. Remaining united is still our greatest strength. We may have lost the battle but our forces weakened the human army as well. Have we heard anything further about the human and dwarven army? I do not believe they immediately mobilized.”
“No,” said Bazik, “They have not left the city as of yet. Our scouts are watching them. If we can get back to any of our cities, we should be able to defend against their army if they do indeed attack.” He adjusted his leather armor, which had a few more nicks in it.
“Ok. Send a rider to bring this note to Minsheen. Tell him to be prepared for action and that we will return to Midland soon. Have the rider leave immediately.” Neemno handed a rolled up note to Bazik.
“The results of war have been good for the humans. The unification of our kin is in its infancy stage. This war is ill timed. We run the risk of we have built here all falling apart. Keep your ears and eyes open. We must quickly put an end to any violence that arises between our own. We must smother obstacles to unity.” Neemno was interrupted by the arrival of three orcs.
Two of the orcs were large soldiers who escorted Droste to see the army’s commander. They looked to Neemno as they held out their swords crossed, preventing Droste from getting any closer. Neemno gave them a nod and they lowered their swords, allowing Droste to approach. He had what seemed to be a fairly grave wound wrapped up on his left arm.
“Commander.” Droste said as he bowed his large head.
“Yes Droste?”
“I wanted to speak to you about how we will proceed. We were beaten, but not destroyed. We have a chance to bounce back. We can strike while the iron is hot.” Said Droste in a firm voice in the orcish language. Neemno and Bazik exchanged looks and then turned their attention back to Droste, looking at the large orc’s pugnacious face and swollen brow.
“We have suffered grave losses and have not yet come up with a course of action. Most likely we will return to Midland and perhaps disburse soldiers to the other cities to fortify. Our plan is still being thought out. You will be called when you are needed.”
“The human army is weaker than we think. We killed hundreds, possibly thousands of what was left of their army. Now is the time to keep them held over the fire.” His voice rose as he pleaded. “This army will follow its leaders. Are there not many other soldiers in the other cities that could be called to this cause? I’ve heard that this army was only a fraction of the numbers of Faletonia. Why would we wait?”
Silence fell over the room. Then, in a flash, Neemno drew his sword from his waste and put the blade to Droste’s throat. He was not brawny for an orc, but he was quick. The soldiers that had escorted Droste pointed their swords to his back, ready to act to serve Neemno if necessary. Droste looked at Neemno with an expression that showed no fear.
“Go ahead. Do something. I’ll shove this sword right through your throat,” Neemno said in a threatening voice and pushed the sword point into his bare throat ever so slightly more. “I lead this army. When
I need your opinion I will call for you. Until then, I do not need to hear your voice. If I have to have this conversation again, my sword will do the talking. Do you understand? Do you?”
Droste’s gaze turned hateful, but then he bowed his head and said, “I understand. Forgive me. My orcs are now your orcs, and we await your orders.” With this Neemno lowered his sword.
“Ok. We will one day get our chance for revenge and glory. We must be patient,” Neemno said. Droste subserviently bowed his head. Neemno spat, “Now get out of my sight.” Droste pursed his lips and tensed up, then left.
Neemno then dismissed Bazik, reminding him to send the note to Minsheen and instructed him to go amongst the soldiers and try and keep moral up. Neemno then made his way over to a large tent. Inside laid Zain, the massive giant who had sustained terrible injuries from the attack on the city. He had been one of the giants to attack the city wall and help to destroy it. He had taken many arrows and lost much blood.
Neemno entered the tent. Inside he found the giant lying with bandages all over him. There were three orcish soldiers in the tent as well. Also present was the one shaman who had survived the battle, an eerie looking creature who wore a small skull on a string around his neck. He was looking over the large bandaged body. Zain was hardly conscious due to blood loss. The giant wearily turned his head and saw the orcish leader.
“Hello Zain.” Neemno gently laid a hand on an uninjured part of the giant’s forearm. “Be strong, you will be healthy soon. Our shaman will help you recover. We will make sure that your kin did not die for nothing. They fought bravely, as did you. We have already sent word to Argorok about what has happened.” Neemno said in the common tongue. Zain nodded his head and turned back to staring at the ceiling of the tent and then closed his eyes. Neemno looked to each of the orcs in the tent and then gave an instructive nod to the shaman who smiled eagerly. He then exited.
The tent flap closed behind him. Neemno took a few steps and then paused. His head lifted as he listened to the night air. Crickets could be heard nearby, but it was not the insects that he wanted to hear. A deep scream that was closer to a groan sounded from within the tent behind him. Neemno continued to walk and did not look back to the commotion. He knew that the shaman had carried out his orders. Zain was no more, and Neemno smiled.
***
Victus and several of his commanders from Rogsnelk and Abellard, along with Mikael Witten, met with Ibelgof Opfs and two other dwarves in a building a few streets into the city of Southland. The original purpose of the building was hard to determine. It was relatively empty inside, but had several long tables. It could have been a mead hall. Both the dwarves and men still wore their armor. Victus had arranged for some ale to be brought to the meeting. It was ale that was found in the city and therefore was had been brewed by the Faletonians prior to the human invasion. Prior to being served, the ale was tested by human priests for toxins and poison. One did not have to know much about dwarves to know that they enjoyed their ale. The three dwarves, who quickly poured themselves large cups, appreciated the effort.
“We are in debt to you for coming to our aide,” began Victus. “We would not have been able to defend the city for much longer.”
“Aye.” Ibelgof agreed. “But let it be known that we did not come to help you only out of the kindness of our hearts. We came because if your army was destroyed, the impact would likely be negative for Orzalar.” One of the other dwarves crossed his hairy arms and nodded in agreement.
“Understood,” replied Victus. “So let us discuss what must happen next. Does Faletonia still control the mines in the eastern part of the Singrin Peaks?
“Aye. They do. Surprisingly they provide us with much o’ the resources that they mine. They’re tryin’ to keep us quiet, as if we’ll just forget they came and stole what has belonged to us for generations. Them mines are a good source o’ metals, they must be still usin’ quite a bit themselves. The orcs and goblins are better at working the mountain than we could have ever believed. Who knew they had the skills to do so. I’d even say I’m impressed if I didn’t hate the sons of bitches so much. They also are able to defend the tunnels better than we expected. We tried to dislodge the dogs, and failed.” Ibelgof said with disappointment. He then pointed a stubby finger towards Victus. “Worth notin’ that no human forces came to help us remove the scum from our mines.” The two other dwarves nodded.
“So what is your plan now? Our scouts have informed us that there are still sizable strongholds for Faletonia to the north. Other city’s could be springing up as we speak and we may just not know,” said Victus as he shook his head as if disappointed by his own words.
“We are aware of a rather significant city to the north of Orzalar. Thousands of orcs dwell there, along with some goblins. While we’re used to explorin’ the lands out of our mines, we’ve been sending scouts out ever since the dogs attacked our mines. We figured we’d find out what it is we were dealin’ with.” Captain Opfs looked at the other two dwarves with a wry grin. “It was dangerous sending scouts out o’ the mountain bein’ that dwarves aren’t known to be moving with much stealth, but our boys managed to stay undetected…sly lads they are.” The two other dwarves chuckled at the comment. “Anyway, we marched here strictly with the intent of preventing your army from being defeated. We will not march to take another o’ there cities. If that is your goal, then it will be only humans doing so.” He said and then swigged his ale, making a face that showed his disapproval of is taste. “But we were happy to give those bastards a taste o’ dwarven steel.”
Victus nodded, “We can only hope that this recent defeat has deterred Faletonia from marching on us. Our intention was initially to end the threat they posed; however we underestimated the size of their forces. I remain shocked that a civilization can grow to such a size so close to us, and we never knew. Our cities need to open their eyes to the world and reach out further, and that includes relations with our dwarven allies.”
“We did not know either, but our kind stay within our mountain. You humans are known for your travels and expansion. It was surprising to us as well that you didn’t know. Could have prevented all this had you been aware o’ what was brewin’ sooner.” Captain Opfs said and then took another swig of his beer, his face contorting again in displeasure.
Orvious, who had been quiet to this point, spoke up with angst, “It is the fault of the councils that lead our cities. They look only inward, and not inward into our cities, but into their own coffers.” All looked towards the burly man from Abellard who seemed to realize his eruption was oddly timed. Orvious never seemed to hold back making it clear he was more than a little fed up with the governance of his city.
“So what will ya’ do?” the dwarf asked.
At this point, Victus took a swig of the ale he had poured himself then said, “We do not know yet. We want to do what is best for our cities…for our people. If there is a solution that would not cost more lives…human and dwarven lives…that is the solution we look to propagate.”
“Aye,” replied Ibelgof Opfs. “But the intention of those dogs who march under the flag o’ the scorpion is not know. Nor can they be trusted.”
The room was silent for a moment, several sips of beer were taken by human and dwarf alike.
“We want to leave a small contingent with ya’, perhaps fifty dwarves. Your people and ours should begin to know each other more. We were never enemies, but perhaps we can now be allies as you said. However you sort this situation out, these fifty dwarven soldiers can see human life. Your folk can probably learn a thing or two form the our lads as well. Is this ok for ya?
“Absolutely. We will work to strengthen the ties between our cities at once.”
The dwarven captain slammed his two hands onto the table as he pushed himself up from his chair. “Great, we will leave tomorrow morning then. Tonight, both our armies will garrison this city in defense and can perhaps have a wee bit of a victory celebration. The beginning of our alliance
?” Ibelgof Opfs raised his bushy eyebrows in an inquiring manner.
Victus nodded, stood and walked over to the stout dwarven captain, “May our gods and yours bless Orzalar, its dwarves, and this newly forged alliance.” Captain Antonel extended his hand.
Captain Ibelgof Opfs shook Victus’s hand and said, “May Ramdeen be with ya and your kind as well.”
An alliance between dwarf and man was forged that day and eating and drinking together in celebration of victory would consummate it.
***
After a night of drinking, eating, and culture sharing most of the dwarves departed for Orzalar in the morning. The dwarven army was travelling on foot. Victus disbursed several riders to go ahead of the dwarves to be sure there were no threats on the road west to the Singrin Peaks. No one knew where the Faletonians were or what they might be up to. The Captain was glad to offer the service for their new allies.
Once again Victus was up early in his tent. At the beginning of the festivities the night before, Bayloff, another officer named Arden and Orvious of Abellard reported back to their leader with the losses from the second battle. Nine hundred and ten men were killed. Six priests were among dead, two of Tuemis and four of Phelios. The numbers were catastrophic. To add to The Captain’s woes, Dougard, a high ranking and well-respected officer of Abellard, had died as well.
Over twenty three hundred battle weary soldiers remained from the force that marched from Rogsnelk about a week earlier. Victus had his officers organize as many men as there were shovels and pic-axes to take turns digging a mass grave outside of the city. Inside, they buried their fallen comrades. The night before, before their festivities, the humans and the dwarves had piled the massive ranks of dead Faletonians together outside of the city and lit them all on fire. A massive blaze ensued that served two purposes. Most practically it made sure that scavengers and odor didn’t make the city uninhabitable in the coming days. Second, it served as a beacon of despair to be noted by all of Faletonia if they dared watch.
Kingdom Come (Price of Power Book 1) Page 33
