The motley group sat around for a full hour before Deathclaw discovered what they were waiting for. We have a problem, he sent.
What is it? Edge asked. He had retrieved Deathclaw’s horse and was less than a mile away.
The raptoid glared down at the new group of monsters that had arrived to join the raiders. He ground the viper’s rattle under his foot. They have received reinforcements.
Chapter Six
Sir Edge - Reinforcements
Sir Edge left the two Academy horses tethered loosely in a copse of trees a fair distance from Deathclaw’s position. The beasts were well-trained. If he or Deathclaw didn’t return to them by morning the following day, they would head down out of the mountains and try to make their way back to the Academy. Any more newcomers since we last spoke?
Just a few goblins. replied the raptoid, sending him new mental images of the raider horde. They hadn’t traveled any further up the mountainside, but had camped in the middle of the pass, building a fire in the center of the road. Any more and we would be foolish to attack.
“We’re already foolish by any normal measure,” Edge said aloud and then through the bond replied, What do you think our best strategy of attack should be?
Deathclaw watched the raider horde with calculating eyes, the scales on his body altered to take on the color of the rocks around him. He had already given the question a great deal of thought. The strange group of raiders that had committed the massacre in Lillian’s village had been joined by even more oddities.
Two giant spiders had crawled down out of the pass. Clinging to the backs and legs of the hairy arachnids were a dozen goblins. The spiders didn’t seem to acknowledge the goblins’ presence and the small creatures weren’t very good at hanging on. Several of them had lost their grip and fallen while the spiders were descending the steep cliffs at either side of the pass. One goblin had died as it struck the ground.
Two more creatures had approached from the road at the center of the pass. One of them was a tall, long limbed creature with a thick brown shell on its back and two smaller shells on each of its forearms. It had hairy paws tipped with massive claws and its head was narrow and rodent-like.
Deathclaw had seen a creature like this before, but only from Fist’s memories. The ogre had called it a digger beast. The creature that rolled along the road next to it, however, was something he was completely unfamiliar with. At first glance, the thing was a large fleshy ball about six feet in diameter. Its skin was a mottled gray with occasional hints of purple and it glistened as though covered in a thin film of mucus. It wasn’t until the thing had come much closer that Deathclaw saw that what propelled it along the road were a series of stubby flipper-like protuberances that pushed at the ground to maneuver it.
When these newcomers arrived, the goblins had climbed down from the spiders and let out tiny cries of “Praise the Maw!” The raiding horde had replied with an enthusiastic, “The Maw!”
There is much we still do not know about this group, and our numbers are small, Deathclaw sent. He decided to recommend an old raptoid custom. Our best strategy would be to harry them, killing a few at a time before retreating. Eventually they will weaken, and we will reduce their number enough that we can manage a direct assault.
Normally, I would agree with you, said Edge as he circled around to the far side of the raider horde. He wanted to get a different vantage point than the raptoid. However, we can’t take the time.
Why not? Asked the raptoid. There is always time for a wise decision. Is that not what Jhonate says?
Edge pursed his lips. It was typical for Deathclaw to use one of his wife’s more annoying sayings against him. As he neared the cliff on the opposite side of the pass from the raptoid he looked for a good spot to climb. His bond to Deathclaw gave him a nimbleness that few other humans had, but he didn’t have the claws and unique sense of balance that the raptoid did.
He spied one section of the cliff face that had crumbled, leaving an ascent with good handholds. He explained his reasons as he climbed, careful not to make any noise that would give him away. We may not know the exact purpose of these raiders, but they are camped right in the entrance of the pass. Any travelers that try to use it will likely be attacked.
Then we will warn any travelers away, replied the raptoid. Or perhaps they will join us in our attack.
It’s not like you to avoid a fierce fight, Edge replied, nearing the top. He had managed his ascent without knocking any rocks loose. We have faced similar numbers before-. Wait, are there any more horses or cats lurking about that you forgot to mention?
Deathclaw replied with a mental hiss. The reason I suggest caution is the same reason you wish to act right away. You saw that child’s memories. You are no longer holding your sword and you are letting your emotions guide you. This has become personal and when that happens you do not think clearly.
The fleshy boulder creature below moved once more and Deathclaw paused in his thoughts. It approached the dead goblin at the base of the cliff and one of the stubby flippers that propelled the thing extended out of the glistening body on a cylindrical stalk. The strange tentacle moved as if it had a core of bone, bending in jointed sections to reach for the dead goblin. This limb gripped the small corpse and hoisted it into the air before curling back towards the thing’s round body.
A small puckered hole in the side of the ball blossomed outward, revealing a thick pink tube covered in wicked curved teeth. The tube latched onto the head of the goblin and withdrew back into the fleshy ball, its teeth biting into the small creature and entombing it within. The jointed tentacle also withdrew into the central body, disappearing until only the small flippered end remained outside once more.
Deathclaw unconsciously grabbed the hilt of Star as he watched the gruesome feast. Instinctually, he sensed that this sort of thing was best killed with fire. The soul within his sword stirred as if in agreement.
That thing’s called a trench worm, Edge said in recognition. He had crawled up to the edge of the pass across from the raptoid and was peering at it with his own eyes. I’ve never seen one close up before, but I’ve seen it illustrated in one of the creature compendiums at the Mage School.
That does not look like a worm, Deathclaw replied glancing across the pass at him in confusion.
I didn’t name it, Edge replied with a shrug, though he also agreed that a worm shouldn’t be ball-shaped. Scholars had odd reasons for naming things. They’re scavengers and live mostly underground. Supposedly, there are a few of them in the sewers in Dremald.
Deathclaw hissed in disgust. Why would humans allow such things to live underneath them?
They eat the rats down there, Edge explained. Also, old King Muldroomon used to order that the bodies of executed traitors be fed to them.
Deathclaw nodded in understanding. A practical use of such a creature. This would definitely dissuade treachery.
The trench worm’s feast wasn’t the only interesting thing going on in the camp. The horde had unloaded the wagon and laid the bodies of the villagers in a line on the ground. The goblins were undressing the bodies and dragging them over to the giant spiders.
The enormous hairy spiders were grabbing each body and using their spinnerets and rear legs to cocoon them in thick webbing. The digger beast was stacking the cocoons to the side once the spiders were finished. They had already made it through half of the bodies.
If you are certain you wish to attack right away, then we should do so at a distance, Deathclaw recommended.
I agree, Edge said, and he pulled his Jharro bow off of his back.
He strung the weapon and ran his hand along its nearly featureless wooden surface. Its name was Ma’am and he had very nearly mastered his connection with it. There was only a thin runic line remaining in the wood and that too would disappear once his connection with its home tree was complete. Jhonate said that he would have done so by now if he would only take the time.
He looked across the pass to the
place where Deathclaw perched, his camouflaged form blending with the rocks. Are you sure you can manage a distance attack? Will Retriever help you?
Deathclaw fingered the bandoleer that crossed his chest. He’d had it specially made by old friends of theirs based on the design of the quiver that Fist’s wife Maryanne used. The Academy’s half-orc forgemaster Bettie had made it and Listener Beth had used her magic to bind it with the spirit of a hawk that Deathclaw had killed.
The magic of the bandoleer was supposed to retrieve Deathclaw’s weapons once he had thrown them and sometimes it worked as designed. Unfortunately, the particular hawk that Deathclaw killed had been a mother trying to protect its eggs. It had now imprinted on Deathclaw’s weapons and did not like him throwing them away. Sometimes, instead of returning them to the bandoleer it would hide them from him.
I have been doing as Beth suggested, Deathclaw said. He tried to communicate with the bird’s spirit daily, and he felt he was making some progress. If Retriever knows we are in a battle she should work as designed.
Alright. I’ll call out to Artemus and see if he’s ready, Edge sent. Maybe he’ll see something we don’t. He reached a tendril of thought through the bond. Great grandfather? Are you ready to help?
A chill breeze blew through the bond as the wizard’s thoughts replied. Is it time for me to act?
Almost, but I want your opinion before we do, Edge replied and sent Artemus everything that he and Deathclaw had seen from the horde below. Have you seen anything like this before?
The wizard’s cool thoughts surged up into Edge’s mind and looked out of his eyes. I haven’t seen this exact behavior before, but their behavior does speak of spirit magic domination.
Edge switched to spirit sight. I thought the same thing, but I don’t see any spirit magic in use.
Nor do I, Artemus said, but we are watching from a distance. If someone was the same distance away watching you and Deathclaw right now, it would be difficult for them to see the bond you have between each other.
Maybe so, but I have trained my eyes to look for bonds. I should be able to see it if it were there, Edge said.
As should I, Deathclaw added.
Even so, there are ways to disguise such things. Remember the day you fought the Protector of the Grove?
Edge nodded slowly. It ended up that one of the Protector’s wives had managed to bewitch him. She kept her magic from being detected by sending it under the earth. Jhonate had only discovered it because the Protector had lifted his foot, revealing the magic connected to his heel. Do you think that the magic controlling them is under the ground?
Maybe. Maybe not, but that is only one way of disguising it, said Artemus. The connection could be extremely faint. Their master could be far away. Or he has shrunk the connection purposefully. It does not have to be a visible connection unless the evil wizard is currently instructing his servants.
If it is just a wizard, said Deathclaw. Making their servants eat human flesh? Having them cocoon the bodies? That is not the behavior of a human.
Not a sane human maybe, Edge replied.
What are you suggesting? asked Artemus.
They could be under the thrall of a creature, said Deathclaw. An ally of the Dark Prophet, perhaps.
The ruins of his old palace are just on the other side of these mountains, Edge said. Though after the last time we were there I don’t see how it could be of any use to him.
A decade prior, the Prophet had sought their help on a mission. John had claimed that the Dark Prophet’s servants were planning something in his old palace. Edge and his bonded had gathered together a force to clear out the site, but when they had arrived they only met token resistance. The goblinoid force they destroyed had unearthed the palace and cleared it of rubble, but any artifacts remaining from the Dark Prophet’s prior reign had been removed.
The Prophet had been furious that they had arrived too late. John called forth an earthquake to destroy the palace once and for all. The place had collapsed from within, leaving a crater in the mountainside. When they had left, nothing but a few outbuildings had remained standing.
I suppose there’s only one way for us to know for sure, said Artemus and there was a chilling menace in his voice. We destroy the majority of them and you can interrogate the rest.
This was kind of what Edge wanted to hear, but the wizard’s tone made him wary. Are you alright, Artemus?
Oh, I am perfectly fine, Artemus assured him, but his voice had risen in pitch. But you know how the elemental gets when a fight is at hand. It is eager to begin and these particular foes . . .
The frost-covered rune on Edge’s chest crackled and a cold mist trickled from the seams in his armor. He touched the center of his breastplate and felt a film of ice on the surface.
Back away from the edge, Deathclaw warned. They could see you.
Edge realized that mist was beginning to coalesce in the air around him. As he backed up, he started to have second thoughts about this battle. Perhaps Deathclaw was right. Heading straight into a fight wasn’t the best idea right now. Artemus, I need you to regain control.
Edge felt a weight settle on his shoulder and he looked back to see a pale hand resting there. The fingernails were pointed and black.
“This is odd,” said Artemus aloud. The wizard stood two full feet taller than Edge. His beard was a mass of icicles, his eyes beady and red. When his lips pulled back from his teeth his mouth was full of razor teeth. “The elemental and I seem to be in full agreement at the moment.”
Edge swallowed. This wasn’t good. The wizard hadn’t done anything like this in years. “Artemus-.”
“We’ll explain later,” Artemus said, his form growing, his arms elongating. His voice had taken on a disconcerting duality. “I have a message to bring these beasts.”
The wizard dissolved into a cloud of mist that flowed over the cliff’s edge and into the pass below. Edge and Deathclaw both hurriedly readied their weapons as the mist poured across the ground towards the enemy.
The raiders didn’t notice anything was amiss until the mist had covered their feet. Their backs suddenly straightened, and they looked around for the source. One of the orcs looked up at the cliff face and pointed as he saw Edge at the top.
Then a column of frost rose from the center of the group and exploded outwards. The Scralag stood among them, ten feet tall and skeletal. The only visible remnant of Artemus’ presence was the icicle beard and a long flowing robe covered in frost runes. It let out an eerie laugh and when it spoke to them its voice came out in twin chilling tones.
“Horde of the Maw, your time of reckoning is at hand. On behalf of the Big and Little People Tribe, I bring your death!”
Chapter Seven
Sir Edge – The Fray
Why did the wizard do that? Deathclaw wondered as he pulled a throwing dagger out of his bandoleer.
I plan to ask him when this is over, Edge said, nocking an arrow on his bowstring. There was a lot about Artemus’ sudden rush into the midst of the raider horde that didn’t make sense to him.
When the Scralag had left its home within Edge’s chest, Edge had assumed that the elemental had overcome the wizard. But its behavior afterwards seemed to indicate that Artemus was still at least partially in charge. For one thing, there had been aspects of the wizard’s appearance in the Scralag. Also, it had stopped to talk to Edge in a reasoned tone. Whenever the Scralag had talked in the past, it had been a creature full of rage and menace.
Then it had charged into the midst of the enemy, which was something the Scralag was likely to do, but why announce the name of the Big and Little People Tribe? Why had it spoken to them at all?
The raider horde was definitely startled by the Scralag’s sudden appearance in their midst. There were a few long seconds where none of them moved. But there was no fear in their faces or worry in their stances.
Then, in unison, the group shouted, “Praise the Maw!” and those closest to the Scralag attacked.
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Several goblins drew crude daggers and ran at the elemental. They leapt onto its legs, their daggers chipping at its icy flesh. Two of the bulky female orcs were also nearby and swung axes. These heavier weapons had more effect, the thick blades sinking into Artemus’ form.
Chuckling, the Scralag raised its arms and the cold that radiated from its body intensified. The very air around it crackled with its chill aura and the foes nearest to the Scralag were slowed. Frost gathered on their bodies and when the elemental brought its clawed fists down upon the orcs that had chopped at it, their skin shattered and cracked and they fell to the ground in frozen pieces.
The rest of the horde took hesitant steps back, brandishing weapons, their eyes watching the Scralag, who wasn’t even trying to brush off the frozen forms of the three goblins that clung to its legs.
The Scralag’s thin lips drew back to reveal a razor-filled smile. “You see, servants of the Maw? Your end is near!” it said with its chilling echoing voice. It pointed a black talon at the giant and the elf standing next to it. “Your master will be next.”
The elf fired an arrow that darted into the elemental’s open mouth. The giant hurled a huge rock and the Scralag took the blow in the chest. It staggered back, the front of its robes shattering and falling like snow beneath it. Then it staggered forward again as another rock struck it from behind, this one thrown by the lanky digger beast. Emboldened by the seeming success of these ranged attacks, the rest of the horde began throwing weapons or rocks.
Hold for now, Edge sent to Deathclaw. So far the enemy had become completely focused on the elemental. Even the orc that had pointed at him seemed to have forgotten he was there. Until it was necessary, it was best not to get involved. Edge wanted to see how many the Scralag could kill on its own.
The enemy’s success was short-lived. The parts of the elemental’s body that were crushed by the boulders simply reformed and the rest of the attacks were minor annoyances. Both the giant and digger beast found more rocks to throw.
Sir Edge Page 6
