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KuzAnn
Adventuring Hero
Explorer
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posted March 31, 2011 10:05 AM |
bonus applied by Elvin on 22 Apr 2011. |
Edited by KuzAnn at 09:48, 01 Apr 2011.
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Okay. I'll read through the thread again and see what I can come up with tomorrow. It's 1 AM over here. =P
Finished! I hope you guys like it! =D
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The manticore that had dragged Isabel to Nicolai's tomb lay dead at her feet, savagely hacked to bits by her skillful swordplay. The beast had been stupid enough to allow her near one of the ceremonial swords in the hall, and though it had been dull from age and lack of care, her fury had provided all the cutting force that she had required. Isabel eyed the bloodied sword as her breathing calmed and slowed, and resolved to find a sharpening stone to get it in prime cutting condition again. It was a greatsword—a massive blade that required two hands and a good deal of strength to wield—obviously not made by a professional, as it was not properly balanced, obviously only intended for decoration and far larger than what she was used to, but it would have to do until she found better.
Isabel let out an annoyed sigh and took in her surroundings again. She was in the royal tomb of the Griffin dynasty, where its kings and princes were laid to rest. Someone, or something, had left a rather large store of food here, which she'd discovered after her captor had dumped her inside the building. She was now forced to stay in the tomb because she lacked a horse and the only thing surrounding the place was miles upon miles of hot, dry desert. The guardians of the tomb had apparently abandoned their duties some time ago, and she found a suitable whetstone after a short search of the guards' armory, as well as a nice variety of weapons and armor.
After picking out a well-balanced long sword and a chain mail shirt—she had been dressed in normal clothes when the manticores had attacked her home and carried her off—she walked out to the entrance of the tomb and began to give her chosen blade some extra bite. The desert sun was hot, even in the early morning, and Isabel was just about to move her work indoors when the sound of approaching hoof beats reached her ears. Silently she backed into the shadowy doorway of the tomb, a place where she would be less easy to see against the glare provided by the strong sunlight, and watched as a lone rider approached.
With a small amount of surprise she realized that the rider was an orc on a horse, strangely enough. This caused her to become suspicious; orcs normally rode massive oxen, a steed which fully befitted their wild strength, and she wondered if this one had stolen the horse and was on the run from someone. Isabel readied her longsword in one hand and held the whetstone in the other—it would make for a nice blunt weapon if the need arose.
The orc rider squinted at the tomb through the glare of the desert sun, then led his horse to approach at a walk. The steed was tired, its rider's leather armor covered in dust and the orc himself weary of travel. He dismounted, careful not to jostle his steed with his large body, and took the horse's reigns to walk with it the rest of the way to the tomb's steps.
Now Isabel recognized the orc; it was Gotai, one of the heroes who had driven Biara out of the Griffin Empire. She quietly sheathed her sword and put the whetstone down, then walked out in to the light with her hands held palms-up to state that she did not want a fight. “Gotai?” she called.
At first Gotai had dropped into a stance that readied him for a fight when the woman stepped out of the shadows, but he relaxed when he realized who it was. “Isabel,” he said, recognizing her. She was a warrior like himself, and he hoped he could trust this old ally; he didn't have much of a choice at this point. They cleared the rest of the distance between them and clasped each other at the forearm, a sign of mutual respect for kin-at-arms.
“I've got food and water inside, bring your horse, the place is big enough to fit him,” Isabel said as she released his arm and gestured towards the tomb. “It's been very boring out here. I would appreciate it if you would tell me your story after you're feeling better. I've had no news at all.”
“Of course,” Gotai said with a short nod. He gently led his tired horse up the steps, and the gelding managed to make it without tripping on them. It looked much more comfortable once it was in the cool air of the tomb, and Gotai felt better as well.
The guard rooms consisted of an armory, a meeting room, sleeping quarters, and a reasonably well-equipped kitchen. Isabel prepared a meal for the two of them after giving Gotai and his horse some much needed and appreciated water; the orc had run out after giving the last of it to his horse that very morning. Once Isabel and Gotai were seated and eating, the orc related his tale, from the moment he found the strange letter up to the events of the past few days, as Alaric chased him wildly through the barren desert lands. As Gotai finished his story Isabel bit her lip and rapped the tips of her fingers against the wooden tabletop as she thought.
“Well, you're safe here,” she said finally. “There are good weapons and armor to be found in the armory, please help yourself to whatever you like,” Isabel gestured to the hallway that led to the armory. “What do you plan to do next?”
“Go to Unicorn Empire, try to find other allies,” Gotai said gruffly. Even now he found his own tale hard to believe; everything had gone so foul so quickly. “Would be nice if Kujin could be found,” he added with a throaty sigh.
“You should be able to make it if your horse holds up,” Isabel said. “I'm stuck here without one, but I have a feeling whoever brought me here wanted me to stay put for a good long while.”
Gotai nodded, then pushed his chair back and got up from the table to go choose his new weapon and armor. Isabel followed him to see if she could be of any help, since she'd picked her way around the armory before. Soon Gotai had a partial suit of plate armor with a bit of mail to supplement it, as well as a large ax crafted from a single hunk of steel with leather strips for its grip. The weapon now hung at his back as Isabel related her own story, showing him the silly ornamental weapon that she'd slain the manticore with.
“Must have been a great rage,” Gotai said, taking the blade and examining it himself. Though his specialty was in axes and similar weapons he could tell that this sword had never been meant for use in battle.
“Well, I'd decided that enough was enough,” Isabel said, accepting the blade when he handed it back to her. She paused at the sound of more hoof beats echoing through the tomb's halls. “More company. Today's my lucky day,” she said with her voice laden with false humor. “I'll check it out, try to stay out of sight. Some still attack first and think later with orcs, I don't want you hurt after coming this far.”
Gotai nodded in understanding, and followed Isabel at a distance, planning to conceal himself in the shadows of the tomb as she herself had done earlier. He reached the entrance a few moments after Isabel stepped out into the sunlight, this time with the greatsword that she had carried out with her unsheathed and clearly visible in her right hand.
The rider, a man with blonde hair and wearing red priest's robes, was obviously very surprised when he spotted Isabel emerging from the tomb's entrance. “My queen!” he said, jumping down from his warhorse. Alaric had been separated from the rest of his army when he had charged ahead in his excitement at being so close to capturing Gotai, and his men had actually lost track of him once he was out of sight.
“I don't answer to the title of queen anymore,” Isabel said, eying Alaric with no small amount of suspicion. “Who are you?” she asked, idly shifting her blade to a more comfortable fighting position.
“I'm Alaric, my lady,” he said, bowing to her.
“Wait—Alaric? The Mad Bishop Alaric?” Isabel asked, her expression bordering on disbelief as she looked a the man.
“Mad Bishop?” Alaric asked, sounding slightly offended at the title. Whatever he was about to say next was cut off by a howl of fury from the shadows of the tomb entrance.
“You!” Gotai cried stepping out of the shadows and into full sunlight. “Get away from my friend, murderer!” With that he charged at Alaric, his new ax drawn and gleaming in the sun, as the red priest readied his own weapon.
Alaric's horse bolted as the orc charged, making its way towards a less dangerous entrance to the tomb as the priest pivoted on the spot, then met Gotai's descending blade with the strongest section of his own steel mace. He grinned when the orc looked surprised at his enemy's strength. For some reason Elrath had withdrawn his divine favor from Alaric completely, leaving his magic almost completely useless, and after having been struck down by Gotai's ax the first time he figured it would be wise to train harder with his war mace. “You know, I was ordered to bring you in alive,” Alaric quipped, panting slightly from the exertion required to stop Gotai's blade. Perhaps riding out into the desert in full armor wasn't the brightest idea either, it was quickly becoming too hot for him. “But I suppose we'll have to make an exception now, won't we?” The two disentangled their weapons, and this time Alaric struck first, aiming for Gotai's ax arm as he brought his mace down hard.
“Stop it!” Isabel yelled irately, but neither the priest nor the orc paid any attention to her, and they barely heard her protest in the heat of battle.
Gotai sidestepped the attack, noting the large hole that Alaric's weapon left in the hardened dirt; the priest was much stronger than before. “Meet your second death, demon lover!” the orc cried. The two of them clashed again, and this time Alaric's mace became caught on Gotai's ax, between the back of the blade and the upper handle. They both attempted to untangle their weapons, each trying to throw his opponent to the ground, but the weapons remained stuck.
In the heat of battle no one had paid attention to what Isabel was doing. She had maneuvered herself into a position that would allow her a clear shot at their weapons. “I said STOP IT!” Isabel bellowed angrily as she brought the greatsword down on them, bearing the combatants' weapons to the ground and pinning them beneath her blade, the tip of which was now buried several inches in the hard ground and stuck fast.
The pair made a futile attempt to free their weapons, which were secured even more firmly by the notches that they had created in the greatsword, then turned and began to physically wrestle each other, still ignoring Isabel in their battle fury. Isabel growled in frustration, then opened her arms and slammed her hands into the combatants' heads, bashing them together. Now the two staggered a bit, dazed by the head blow, and looked around at Isabel.
“Next time listen when I tell you to stop,” Isabel said firmly, arms crossed over her chest. She looked every bit the warrior queen that she used to be. “Now go in the tomb and cool your heels while we figure this out.” Embarrassed from being berated by Isabel, the pair obediently followed, their fight ended for the time being. “Leave it,” Isabel said sharply just before they passed their trapped weapons, as she had rightly guessed that they would try to pick them up again.
Soon they were seated at the kitchen's simple wooden table again, with Gotai and Alaric positioned as far away from each other as possible while Isabel sat between them. “You will explain yourself,” she said pointedly, jabbing a finger at Alaric. “And Gotai, please let him speak,” she requested patiently and politely as she looked at the orc.
Gotai restricted his barely-contained disgust for Alaric to a heated glare in the priest's direction, then nodded to Isabel. He would listen, but it didn't mean he had to like doing it. The orc sat back in his chair as he crossed his arms over his chest, raising his chin so that he could look down his nose at the red priest from across the table.
Alaric's head throbbed; it had been doing so more than usual throughout his campaign, and it was the cause of his acting irritably towards his own men. He explained that some mysterious entity had returned him to life and told him to hunt down Gotai and the orcs, and to bring the former khan back alive.
Isabel watched him as he explained, her expression unreadable as she held her hands laced before her mouth, with her elbows propped up on the tabletop. Something odd shifted in the air around Alaric whenever he moved, but she was sure that there was no mundane reason for this. She focused more closely, remembering the lessons that Raelag had taught her on detecting and reading the spell work of other magic users. Isabel's brows knitted together as she examined Alaric more closely; yes, there was definitely a spell there, cleverly woven to go unnoticed, especially to its target, but it seemed to be falling apart now, as if something—perhaps being killed and raised from the dead—had started to pick it apart.
“Isabel?” Gotai said quietly, having noticed her expression as she stared at Alaric. The priest himself had stopped in his narrative when Gotai called attention to her.
Without a word of explanation Isabel reached out towards Alaric and grasped one of the barely-visible threads of the spell that floated around him. She pinched the thread between her thumb and index finger and started to pull at it, causing Alaric to jerk back in response. “Ah! Stop!” he said, wincing in pain and grabbing Isabel's wrist in his right hand.
Grabbing Isabel had been a mistake, as she whipped her arm out of his grasp and backhanded him with her right hand in one swift motion. Her armored hand struck Alaric in his left temple, the force of the blow knocking him out of his chair, and he landed on his side a few feet away on the hard stone floor, out cold. Small cuts opened up by Isabel's strike slowly began to bleed as Gotai approached.
“Is he...?” he began to ask.
“Dead? No. I didn't hit him hard enough for that,” Isabel replied, guessing the rest of Gotai's question. Now that Alaric was completely still she could read the spell work more easily. “Damn you Biara,” she muttered quietly.
“Biara?” Gotai asked, kneeling by Alaric and squinting at the priest as he tried to see what Isabel was looking at.
“Yes, this spell,” she picked at the enchantment again. “It has Biara written all over it. It kept him from suspecting that she was a demon, she must've put it on him when he got too close to figuring out what she was. I guess he was too important to simply kill off.” There, a section of the spell dedicated to keeping its target unaware of its existence, another to guarantee obedience to the caster. It was skillfully constructed, and it ensured that Alaric would never suspect that his queen was evil, despite whatever happened. Now she spotted a section of the spell that was partially broken, and it seemed that this had happened some time before Alaric's death. “Of course,” she said, carefully moving Alaric's head to get a better look at the piece in question.
“What is it, what do you see?” Gotai asked, impatient to know what Isabel was discovering about his old enemy.
“Remember that Biara's disguise supposedly fell off right in front of Alaric? The shock must've broken a part of the spell, but it still stuck to Alaric instead of dissipating as it was supposed to. She would've killed him if he'd stayed to fight her, just like she did to all the red troops that opposed her before she was overthrown. He only survived because the insanity caused by the cracked spell work made him run. Well... He survived until you got to him, anyway.” She said, nodding at Gotai as she spoke the last sentence.
“So you are saying that he is not responsible?” Gotai asked in disbelief.
“Oh no, he's responsible for everything he's done,” Isabel said grimly, testing a different part of the spell as she spoke. “If only for being stupid enough to be lured in before the spell was cast on him.” She suddenly stopped her probing and sat back on her heels; she'd nearly triggered a trap written into the spell that would harm those who tried to take it off, she was lucky that she'd noticed it in time.
“You can read magic,” Gotai said in wonder as Isabel heaved Alaric onto the table where she could work at getting the spell off more easily.
“Yes, my friend taught me how,” she said. Her heart twinged painfully as she thought of Raelag; what had happened to him? Isabel said no more as she finished her assessment of the spell and set about taking it off. What was once a very fine, tightly woven piece of work was now a frayed, slightly tangled mess. It would be a bit easier to remove while it was in this state, but it would also be more difficult to get rid of it without harming the person it had been put on. She didn't want Alaric dead just yet if at all, he could be very useful.
Isabel was tired and sweating as she removed the last tangled thread of the spell and destroyed it with a firm clap of her hands; her holy magic might be weak at the moment, but it was still strong enough to destroy this bit of demonic magic. She jumped back when Alaric sat bolt upright and yelled, “Queen Isabel's a demon she's going to kill us all!” The look of horror on his face faded as he gingerly touched his left temple; the cuts had stopped bleeding, and a dark bruise marked where Isabel had hit him.
Without a word Isabel led Gotai out of the room and into the armory, where they could talk in private and examine more of the armaments there; doubtless Alaric would need some quiet time to himself in order to cope with what he'd done now that the spell was gone. Eventually the pair made their way outside, where Isabel tried to remove the greatsword from the ground. It wouldn't budge, even when Gotai tried to remove it. The pair looked up from their work at the sound of sand shifting behind them; Alaric stood there, a two-handed mace from the armory in his right hand. Gotai eyed the priest warily while Isabel subtly shifted herself to a defensive stance. He strode over to the trapped weapons and, in a single underhand swing, knocked the greatsword from its position and launched it several feet into the air.
The blade crashed to the ground as Alaric tossed the mace away and knelt before Gotai. “Kill me. I've spilled too much innocent blood, most of it belonging to your people. You have every right,” he said quietly.
Gotai picked up his ax, gripping the handle tightly. He had never expected anything like this to happen. Alaric asking to be killed in the name of justice? Never in a million years would Gotai have expected to hear this. Part of him wondered whether this was some sort of trick, but how could it be? Alaric must have realized that Isabel would protect her ally before she allowed him to live, and both maces were too far away for the priest to grab before Gotai killed him while he was unarmed. The orc strode purposefully over to Alaric so that he was standing next to the kneeling priest. Slowly he lowered the ax until its lethally sharp blade nearly rested on the back of Alaric's neck. It would be so easy, the orc thought as he looked down at his defeated foe. The ax lifted, as if Gotai were preparing to take Alaric's head, but as the blade reached shoulder-height the orc allowed the shaft to fall back and rest on his shoulder.
“No,” Gotai said simply. “You want to pay for your crimes? Then help orcs rebuild their home, help restore what was lost. Only then will justice be done.” The orc turned and walked toward the tomb, his ax still resting comfortably on his right shoulder.
Isabel smiled as she bent to pick up Alaric's mace as well as the one from the armory. Spoken like a true leader, she thought. After gathering up the greatsword as well, she followed Gotai into the tomb, leaving Alaric still kneeling in the dirt as the sun set and darkness began to close in.
The next morning Isabel walked out of the tomb to stretch and do a few sword drills in the open air before the day became too hot. She was surprised to find Alaric seated on the second lowest step, one knee bent to allow his elbow to rest on it. One hand propped his head up as he stared blankly into the distance, and he looked like he'd gotten little sleep the past night.
“Didn't you sleep?” Isabel asked casually as she passed his spot on the steps.
Alaric jumped—apparently he hadn't heard her approach. “Not really,” he said tiredly, avoiding Isabel's eyes. He felt awful as guilt and humiliation tore at him from the inside, but at least his constant headaches seemed to be gone, a result of Isabel removing the spell that was on him.
“What now, Alaric?” Isabel asked, half expecting him to leave the question unanswered.
“I don't know,” he said truthfully. “There's so much blood on my hands... No wonder Elrath left me.”
“So you're just going to sit around and mope?” Isabel asked, not impressed with how Alaric was behaving at this very moment.
“I'm a mass murderer. I've ruined thousands of lives and killed hundreds of people. What do you want me to do? Dance a merry jig?” Alaric's last question dripped with bitter sarcasm, and Isabel left him alone after that.
Isabel went about her morning exercise routine and sword drills while Alaric sat on the steps. Eventually Gotai emerged from the tomb as well and joined her, nimbly swinging his heavy steel ax as he practiced. The sun had completed a fourth of its journey across the sky as Isabel and Gotai finished their routines and headed back towards the tomb. Alaric had not moved from his spot the entire time that the two were outside, and now Isabel nudged him with the toe of her boot to get his attention.
“Up, you'll die of heat stroke if you stay out here,” she said, offering a hand to help him up. Alaric took her hand, grunting as she pulled him up—had he been sitting here motionless the entire night? He looked stiff enough. “Can't let you get out of all the work you owe Gotai and the orcs,” she said.
Alaric nodded mutely and followed her in. Gotai was already inside, tending to their horses. His mellow gelding hadn't objected at all to the arrival of Alaric's war charger, and the two seemed perfectly capable of sharing a water trough and the space they had in the tomb. The orc brushed out his horse's coat, and the beast snorted appreciatively at the care he gave it. Realizing that his charger needed the same treatment, Alaric began to tend to his horse as well, working silently and avoiding locking eyes with Gotai. Isabel left them to their work, thinking about how they should move forward. From what Gotai had told her, Alaric's forces had orc divisions within it, slaves captured during conquest. Freeing those slaves would likely go a long way in helping Gotai with his problems when it came to the other clans as well, but she was unsure as to whether Gotai would trust Alaric to give them back now that he was supposedly sane. He seemed haunted now, as if there were restless spirits following him, and perhaps there were, for all she knew.
After she finished preparing a noon meal for everyone she'd come up with a plan that might work. Isabel took Gotai aside, where Alaric couldn't hear them. “Do the orcs have some sort of blood oath? I heard that they did.”
“Yes,” Gotai said slowly, thinking about what she was surely proposing. “Alaric does not follow Mother Earth, but she will be allowed to exact her punishment if he breaks the oath.” The blood oath of the orcs was a serious one; any who broke it would die painfully as the earth itself devoured them. He looked up at Isabel, “If he refuses?”
“Then I'm afraid we'll have to get rid of him after all,” Isabel replied firmly. “We could certainly use the help and it would be difficult to take back your orc friends if we had to fight his army.”
Gotai nodded, his heavy brow ridges knit in thought. “Bring him outside,” Gotai said, his long legs taking him quickly to the entrance of the tomb.
Isabel found Alaric sitting beside his war charger, having finished tending to the horse and now with little to do but sit around and mope. “Come on,” she said, gesturing towards the entrance with a flick of her head. This time Alaric rose without Isabel's help and followed her towards the tomb's entrance.
Gotai stood a few feet from the base of the steps, muscled arms crossed over his chest. He waited patiently as Alaric descended the steps and stood before him, never once looking up from the ground. “Alaric, shaman of red steel men,” Gotai began, his voice strong and clear. “For crimes against orcs I require a blood oath. Great punishment awaits fools who break this oath, as Mother Earth devours their body and Father Sky imprisons their spirit. Do you accept?”
“Yes,” Alaric said, just loud enough for Gotai to hear him clearly.
“Take off the gauntlet, and give me your hand,” Gotai instructed as he held a small knife ready in his right hand. Alaric loosened the plate armor piece that covered his right hand and forearm and pulled it off before offering his hand to Gotai. “Do you swear to help orcs rebuild home, restore clans, to work until your crimes are repaid in service?”
“Yes,” Alaric replied, almost sounding determined this time.
Gotai grasped the priest's hand and opened a cut in Alaric's palm with one swift, careful movement. “Mother Earth, accept this blood as symbol of oath. May steel shaman Alaric fulfill his promise to the orcs, and never stray from path as he helps rebuild our home,” Gotai said reverently. Dark red blood welled up from the wound and dripped from Alaric's hand before falling to the ground, where the parched dirt greedily drank it up. “It is done,” the orc said, binding the cut on Alaric's hand with a clean cloth.
Isabel wondered if she was the only one who noticed that the blood droplets were completely gone now, as if something beneath the ground had sucked them up. She decided not to mention it. Wordlessly she walked down the steps and took Alaric's bandaged hand, glancing at Gotai for permission to heal it. Gotai nodded in response, and Isabel allowed her magic to wash over the wound and heal it, so that only a thin red scar was still visible.
Alaric looked up, actually meeting their eyes for the first time since Isabel removed the enchantment that had been laid upon him. “We have many of your people as prisoners back at my camp,” the man said. “I will start by returning them to you.”
Two horses rode into the red haven camp late that afternoon. The first was Alaric's war charger, carrying Alaric himself with Isabel seated behind him. The second was a lean gelding carrying a large orc, the former khan Gotai. The red troops set up a loud cheer as Alaric entered the camp, but the quickly quieted down at the sight of the priest's heated glare.
Isabel and Gotai talked near the fringe of the camp while Alaric addressed his men and brought them up to date on what had taken place. The pair looked up from their conversation at the sound of an explosion; there had been demons hiding among Alaric's men again, and a massive battle had broken out. The knight and the barbarian drew their weapons and rushed in to join the fray, bellowing war cries as they charged.
Gotai reached the first demon, a particularly fiery arch devil, and severed one of its arms with a single mighty swing as it was about to bear down on a wounded marksman. The demon howled, his burning blood hissing has it hit the ground, and turned to face his attacker. Gotai didn't give it a chance to retaliate, this time burying his ax in the demon's neck and almost decapitating it before searching for his next target.
A pit spawn tried to cleave Gotai in two with its burning blade, but its attack was stopped dead when Isabel brought her own sword up to counter it. The demon snarled at Isabel as it withdrew its blade and struck at her this time. Isabel blocked the first blow, then dodged the next, slipping in close to run the demon through with her sword. The pit spawn gurgled loudly and fell to the ground, slain by her sword thrust.
The two sides fought furiously, with the once-captive orcs now joining the fray after some clever human had freed them. After felling yet another demon with her blade, Isabel looked around to where Alaric had been standing, curious as to whether he had survived a fight with actual demons. Alaric stood near where he had been when the fighting had begun, somewhat the worse for wear; his left arm seemed to be broken and hung uselessly at his side, the gauntlet on his left arm was curved in after something hard had hit it, most likely a hell stallion's hoof, there was a large dent in his breastplate that likely hindered his breathing, and his robes had been shredded by the demons' claws. A good number of demon corpses surrounded him, all with crushed skulls or chests, and he was about to add another to the pile as he used his one good arm to swing his war mace with enough force to break an attacking pit fiend's lower jaw. The demon reeled, screaming in agony until Alaric silenced it with a crushing blow to its forehead.
Most of the demons had been slain by now, and the remaining force fought desperately to take as many orcs and humans with them as they possibly could. Isabel signaled Gotai by patting his shoulder and pointed to where Alaric was; two familiars had tackled his legs, tripping him up, and pinned his legs and good arm to give an approaching arch demon a clear shot at the priest's head and neck.
“Too bad that little knight took the spell off you,” the demon said, raising his ax as he prepared to split Alaric's skull in a single swing. “You've been such a useful little pawn, destroying our enemies for us.”
“Better to die fighting you than to die as your puppet!” Alaric spat venomously, his voice cracking with anger as he scowled up at the demon.
The demon only laughed in reply. He then gasped suddenly and froze in his swing as Isabel's blade slipped between the gaps of his chest armor and impaled him. Gotai sliced up the two screeching familiars—a swing for each—before they could react to Isabel's attack. The arch demon staggered, Isabel's sword still stuck between his ribs, and toppled backward as he breathed his last. Isabel helped Alaric to his feet as the red troops and recently-freed orcs killed off the last remaining demons. Alaric's forces let out a ragged cheer as the last demon fell, their cries joined by the equally-excited orcs.
Soon the army busied itself with tending to the injured, human and orc alike. Zealots splinted bones and stitched up wounds while orc shamans chanted healing spells to help those who were alive but beyond normal care. Isabel left Alaric in one of the first aid tents to get his arm splinted and offered her help to the nearest shaman, who directed her to patients that would need her magic to be saved. Gotai first helped move the injured into the tents and out of the piercing sun, then roved around the patients, speaking words of encouragement to the healers and comforting those who had been wounded in the fight. A large majority of the wounded were humans, as they had been directly ambushed by the demons and the orcs had joined the fight later as they were released.
By nightfall the wounded had been patched up, for the most part, and those who escaped the battle without injury set about cooking dinner for the camp. Gotai looked around, taking in the strange sight; the orcs and humans sat around the camp in small groups, actually acting civil to each other, and it seemed that there would be no infighting, for the time being, at least. He found Isabel sitting next to Alaric, who was carefully trying to sit up without bumping his broken arm, which was now set and hung in a sling. Alaric's armor and breastplate had been removed, and he seemed to find breathing a bit difficult as well.
“How did that happen?” Gotai asked, pointing at Alaric's broken arm.
“Couple of hell stallions cornered me,” Alaric said, his voice a bit strained from the pain caused by his broken bones. “One of them kicked me. One hoof hit my arm, the other got me in the chest. It cracked a few of my ribs too.”
Gotai glanced at the breastplate; the round dent from the hell stallion's hoof was quite large, the beast had been powerful to be able to bend such high-quality metal like that. “Many orcs here are healthy, escaped the fight unscathed,” he said. “I will take them ahead in the morning while your forces recover.”
Alaric nodded; Gotai's plan was completely reasonable. “Do you need my help with the rebel orcs?” he asked.
“No. It must be done by me and my army, otherwise we will be called weak for relying on the help of outsiders,” Gotai replied.
Early the next morning Gotai's forces broke camp and moved out, taking rations and war machines that they had received from Alaric's army. Isabel and the few uninjured humans in the camp rose with them and saw the orcs off, wishing them luck in their mission.
~ ~ ~
*Looks up at entry* I think this is so long cause I'm still catching up. :B
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evinin
Supreme Hero
Servant of Asha
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posted April 01, 2011 12:15 PM |
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So... I read it.  It's really nice.  Wonderful, everything happened in favor of the story, so you don't have to worry about anything. I'll do a narrative for Monday but before that expect another big reveal.
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KuzAnn
Adventuring Hero
Explorer
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posted April 02, 2011 06:39 AM |
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*Hops around in excitement* I can't wait! 8D
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gnomes2169
Honorable
Undefeatable Hero
Duke of the Glade
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posted April 02, 2011 06:41 AM |
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Ylaya's will come... Very soon...
*Spoiler*
You have not seen the last of those two scouts, BTW!
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Yeah in the 18th century, two inventions suggested a method of measurement. One won and the other stayed in America.
-Ghost destroying Fred
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KuzAnn
Adventuring Hero
Explorer
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posted April 02, 2011 07:41 AM |
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Edited by KuzAnn at 07:41, 02 Apr 2011.
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8O Ylaya gonna kick some booty next? =P
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evinin
Supreme Hero
Servant of Asha
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posted April 02, 2011 08:39 AM |
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I'm thinking of writing the other not so big reveal later today. If you want a spoiler - I'm planning to make it a little bit brutal. Or maybe not a little bit...
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KuzAnn
Adventuring Hero
Explorer
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posted April 02, 2011 08:52 AM |
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evinin
Supreme Hero
Servant of Asha
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posted April 02, 2011 08:56 AM |
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Edited by evinin at 09:02, 02 Apr 2011.
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Quote:
Does someone die? o___o
I haven't decided that yet but maybe.
Well, one is going to die for sure but do you two to die?
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KuzAnn
Adventuring Hero
Explorer
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posted April 02, 2011 09:10 AM |
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Quote:
Well, one is going to die for sure but do you two to die?
Uhmm... Not really understanding the last sentence there. =[ Might just be cause I'm tired, though.
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evinin
Supreme Hero
Servant of Asha
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posted April 02, 2011 09:14 AM |
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Quote:
Quote:
Well, one is going to die for sure but do you two to die?
Uhmm... Not really understanding the last sentence there. =[ Might just be cause I'm tired, though.
I'm saying that in the not so big reveal someone is going to get killed. I'm asking if you want another character to get killed (an orc maybe...)
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KuzAnn
Adventuring Hero
Explorer
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posted April 02, 2011 09:17 AM |
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Aaah. No, not really... I do not hunger for anyone's blood at the moment. ;P Except for the people who caused this mess, but that would be anti-climactic if they were killed off now. 
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evinin
Supreme Hero
Servant of Asha
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posted April 02, 2011 09:22 AM |
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Edited by evinin at 23:00, 02 Apr 2011.
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Quote:
Aaah. No, not really... I do not hunger for anyone's blood at the moment. ;P Except for the people who caused this mess, but that would be anti-climactic if they were killed off now.
Fine... Then I'll make them wanting to die. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Kujin and Arantir were lying on the ground but when the door of the hidden chamber opened they immediately stood up but magical chains were holding them down. The shaman screamed in relief when Gotai was pushed in the chamber. He fell on the ground, he looked almost dead.
"It's not my fault. He fought much." The Phoenix Lady was standing near the exit but away from Kujin's and Arantir's eyes. "Alaric was also fighting. Brave guy with a brave heart." She threw a piece of meat in the middle of the chamber - Alaric's heart. "I revived that insane loser and he tried to kill me in order to save Gotai. How noble. It's not going to help him much. So... If you are wondering what's going to happen to you - I'm going to kill you very soon."
"I told you how to... I taught you how to revive!" Arantir couldn't hold his anger but he couldn't do anything else. "Where's Ornella?"
"Markal was the first to... Never mind. She's dead for good. I'm sorry - she wasn't part of the plan. Gotai isn't also but I'm letting Kujin to be with him before the end. Which will be very soon that is. I saw it in a dream."
"And that you learned from me." The Phoenix Lady nodded in the dark.
"Soon your lives will be sacrificed for a better cause. A new time is coming and sacrifices are needed, the sacrifices of the best heroes. Sadly, but that must be you."
The door of the chamber closed.
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KuzAnn
Adventuring Hero
Explorer
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posted April 02, 2011 11:18 PM |
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Wait, Alaric didn't go with Gotai, he stayed behind with Isabel while his men recovered. So where's Isabel?
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evinin
Supreme Hero
Servant of Asha
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posted April 02, 2011 11:20 PM |
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Edited by evinin at 23:21, 02 Apr 2011.
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Wait, Alaric didn't go with Gotai, he stayed behind with Isabel while his men recovered. So where's Isabel?
Your her writer - it's your job to know what happened to her. 
Edit: The Phoenix Lady's words about Alaric and Gotai were general speaking.
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KuzAnn
Adventuring Hero
Explorer
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posted April 02, 2011 11:31 PM |
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Edited by KuzAnn at 23:35, 02 Apr 2011.
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Oh, I thought you were letting me take over Alaric too. What I meant was, I thought I made a big enough time gap where Alaric wouldn't be able to catch up with Gotai, so it didn't make sense that Alaric was defending him when the Phoenix Lady got him. But if she came back for Alaric while Isabel wasn't looking, that's another story... (Was actually planning to have him stick with Isabel for a long while, guide her to the Phoenix Lady's humble abode and whatnot.)
Also, do all the Dragon-Gods somehow have their hands tied in this conflict? Sar-Elam was the youngest "brother" of the pantheon, I'd think that Asha and Urgash at the very least would be able to give him a smack-down if he went too far in his manipulations.
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evinin
Supreme Hero
Servant of Asha
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posted April 02, 2011 11:44 PM |
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Quote:
Oh, I thought you were letting me take over Alaric too. What I meant was, I thought I made a big enough time gap where Alaric wouldn't be able to catch up with Gotai, so it didn't make sense that Alaric was defending him when the Phoenix Lady got him. But if she came back for Alaric while Isabel wasn't looking, that's another story... (Was actually planning to have him stick with Isabel for a long while, guide her to the Phoenix Lady's humble abode and whatnot.)
Also, do all the Dragon-Gods somehow have their hands tied in this conflict? Sar-Elam was the youngest "brother" of the pantheon, I'd think that Asha and Urgash at the very least would be able to give him a smack-down if he went too far in his manipulations.
Alaric sucks as a character.  The story about Sar-Elam and the reviving it's complicated, I'm revealing it slowly.
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KuzAnn
Adventuring Hero
Explorer
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posted April 02, 2011 11:46 PM |
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Oh. Actually, I was having fun trying to write him believably. *shrug* Oh well.
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evinin
Supreme Hero
Servant of Asha
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posted April 02, 2011 11:48 PM |
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Quote:
Oh. Actually, I was having fun trying to write him believably. *shrug* Oh well.
Sorry.  I'm trying to make the Phoenix Lady to look badass and cruel. Also it isn't logical for the "bad guys" to keep Alaric alive - he has betrayed them.
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KuzAnn
Adventuring Hero
Explorer
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posted April 02, 2011 11:53 PM |
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Edited by KuzAnn at 00:05, 03 Apr 2011.
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Well, you kinda already achieved that with everything she's done before this. I already hated her guts and wanted her to die in anguish long before that last entry. And Sar-Elam needs a good screwing over. Getting people killed just because you're bored of being dead is a moral no-no, especially when a good portion of said people are likely to be innocent bystanders. 
I figured that the baddies would be able to maneuver around Alaric's alignment change and even turn it to their advantage. Also Gotai and the orcs are now thoroughly gipped in the way of being paid for all the bad stuff that Alaric did. Maybe the Phoenix Lady or Sar-Elam will be willing to pay instead. ;]
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Warlord
Famous Hero
Lord of Image Spam
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posted April 03, 2011 12:06 AM |
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Quote:
Getting people killed just because you're bored of being dead is a moral no-no
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