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Tales of the Legacy - Concluded
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<blockquote data-quote="Delemental" data-source="post: 2398711" data-attributes="member: 5203"><p>Kyle never thought it would be this easy to accept the fact that he was going to die.</p><p></p><p> He listened to the arguments of his companions from an oddly detached state, knowing that they were quibbling over unimportant details. The crux of the matter was unchanging; they were going to face down Orth, and more importantly, they were going to face down his two lieutenants, the ones who wielded the power that the archon Alexriel referred to as ‘psionics’.</p><p></p><p> More to the point, <em>he</em> was going to face them down.</p><p></p><p> Kyle almost felt like weeping. It had taken him several hours to come to grips with it, but he could no longer deny it. The staff he carried, the one he had picked from the vaults of the elven Imperial Court, was designed for the purpose of combating psionics. He could no longer deny that the staff had chosen him to be the agent through which it did its work. That it had chosen poorly was irrelevant now. The staff’s abilities to detect sources of the pre-Cataclysmic abomination had been passed to him, which made him responsible for identifying and confronting threats of that nature.</p><p></p><p> His eyes fell onto Autumn’s face, radiant even in the shadowy light of the orc encampment. He thought of what she might say if he had told her earlier what he was really thinking. She would worry, of course. They would all worry. They might try to relieve the burden on him, try to take on more than their share in battle. Their concerns might divert their attention at a critical moment. Kyle was tired of his own inadequacies as a mage dragging the rest of them down. This was too important. They all had to be at their best. So, he kept silent. Better that they think him moody and unfriendly this evening, than know the truth.</p><p></p><p> He had no doubts that he would be annihilated. He was no match for one, let alone two. The best he could hope for was to make the best effort possible, and hope that his efforts would give his friends the edge they needed to bring the two abominations down. The task was really in their hands, not his – all he could do was try and minimize the advantage these two lieutenants had, if he didn’t screw it up.</p><p></p><p> Kyle’s thoughts were still distant as Lanara spoke. “Keth wants us to meet with him and his Master of Spies after they finish their council,” she said. “I think he wants to impart some personal, private information.”</p><p></p><p> “All right,” said Tolly.</p><p></p><p> “Is your dog coming with you?” asked Lanara.</p><p></p><p> Tolly glanced back at Alexriel, who had returned to his dog form and was patiently on the floor, wagging his tail. “Sure, I’ll bring my ‘dog’.” Everyone, of course, knew that the dog was the hound archon that Tolly had summoned early that morning, who now chose to accompany them to destroy the two wielders of psionics that were with Orth.</p><p></p><p> The party was discussing general battle plans when an aide came to their tent. “Keth wishes to see you now,” he said.</p><p></p><p> As the party walked to Keth’s tent, Tolly looked down at Alexriel. “I wish to make certain of something. Are we supposed to destroy any objects we find that are infused with this psionic energy, or can they be used against our enemies?”</p><p></p><p> “The abominations and their tools must be destroyed,” Alexriel replied sternly.</p><p></p><p> “I thought that was the case.”</p><p></p><p> As the party approached the tent, Tolly heard the faint sounds of an argument in Orcish coming from inside. He couldn’t understand the language, and so had no idea what the argument was about. A moment later, they were all escorted inside by one of Keth’s honor guards, who promptly left.</p><p></p><p> Keth sat in the center of his tent, along with another figure in black leather. As they entered, several of the party members seemed surprised when they saw this new person.</p><p></p><p> “I didn’t know you had any hin in your clan, Keth,” Osborn said.</p><p></p><p> “Who are you talking about, Osborn?” Kavan asked.</p><p></p><p> “That guy,” he said, pointing at the black-clad figure. “He’s a hin.”</p><p></p><p> “No,” Kavan said slowly, “he’s an elf.”</p><p></p><p> “I’d swear that she is an assimar,” Autumn said.</p><p></p><p> “Allow me to explain,” Keth said, “this is my spymaster, the Faceless One. This is, I am given to understand, his Talent. But it is one that he has no control over. Thus he appears to each of you as a member of your own race and gender.”</p><p></p><p> “That would get kind of annoying after a while,” Arrie said.</p><p></p><p> The Faceless One looked at her. “You have no idea. Imagine my difficulty in finding a woman to bed.”</p><p></p><p> Xu’s brows arched at the mental image as the Faceless One turned to Lanara. “Keth has requested I give you the information I have gathered while wandering around his camp.”</p><p></p><p> “That would be helpful,” Tolly admitted. “What can you tell us about Orth and those who follow him?”</p><p></p><p> The Faceless One’s eyes lingered on Lanara for a moment before turning to regard Tolly. “Orth is a powerful warrior, but he is also a smart one. He comes from a long line of chieftains, long known as warlords. Their mere presence can inspire their forces to victory. That is why you have been assigned this mission – without Orth, many of his forces will lose the taste for battle.”</p><p></p><p> The Faceless One scratched at his chin. “Where to begin? Well, let us start with Orth himself. He favors a rather cunning style of fighting, rather than the smashing and looting favored by most orcs. He is currently fighting with a falchion in personal combat, but unlike most orc chieftains he keeps his composure most of the time. He leads from the rear, which is unusual for an orc, but it is said that he has confidence in his ability to win victory and this has no need to be present at their battles. That is why this tactic may succeed, where against other clans it would not be considered, as the chieftain would be at the head of his army rather than isolated at the rear.</p><p></p><p> “It is unlikely he will attack again this evening. Orcish tradition dictates that battles take place under the watchful eye of Grabâkh, so that he may see them prove their strength against their enemy. Night attacks are not unknown, but not on this large a scale.”</p><p></p><p> “It seems your brother has begun using several non-traditional methods,” Autumn commented to Keth.</p><p></p><p> “Yes, the ones with the strange magic,” answered the Faceless One. “There are two who remain with him at all times, but whether they are allies or bodyguards I cannot say. One of them is… I am not certain. If he is human, as he appears, then he is the largest human I have ever seen, and hope never to meet his like in battle. He is perhaps a third again as tall as Keth, and seems carved from a solid block of muscle. If I had not seen him move and speak with the grace and wits of a human, I would have thought him an ogre. He wears a suit of full plate armor, though he carries no weapons. I have heard this one called Sun-Harrow.”</p><p></p><p> “Not an auspicious name,” Tolly commented.</p><p></p><p> The Faceless One nodded his agreement. “The second of them appears to be an orc-touched, short in stature compared to most of his kind. He appears the more intellectual of the two, and he is closer to what I would know as a sorcerer. He wears no armor and carries no weapon. This one I have heard called Takar.”</p><p></p><p> “What does the relationship with the priests of Grabâkh appear to be?” Tolly asked.</p><p></p><p> “It varies. Their leader, an orc priestess by the name of Gell, also stays near Orth, but does not seem friendly toward these other two. I would describe her as ‘guardedly hostile’. The lesser priests seem to regard these two, especially Takar, with a combination of fear and reverence.”</p><p></p><p> “Anyone else with him?” Lanara asked.</p><p></p><p> “He has an honor guard, anywhere from four to ten orcs with pole-axes. They are unremarkable, though they seem to known what they’re doing.” The Faceless One took a sip of a strong-smelling concoction in a wooden cup. “Any questions?”</p><p></p><p> “How did you come by this information?” Autumn asked.</p><p></p><p> “I managed to sneak in during yesterday’s battle,” he explained, “and looked around for a while. I stayed for about an hour or so after Orth’s armies returned, and then I left.”</p><p></p><p> “Can you draw us a map of the camp, so we can plan our route in?” asked Tolly.</p><p></p><p> “And what can you tell us about their patterns of movement?” Autumn added. “Guard rotations, and the like?”</p><p></p><p> The Faceless One shook his head. “You misunderstand. You will not be attacking Orth in his camp. His tents are in the middle of the camp, and it would be impossible for you to get close enough, especially with your heavy armor. We had considered this at first, but realized that sending you to attack Orth in his camp would fail.”</p><p></p><p> “But Keth’s sorcerers have offered to render us invisible,” said Tolly. “And with a silence spell…”</p><p></p><p> “No,” interrupted Keth. “Magical silence dampens sound within an area. You would be unable to get close without someone detecting a sudden lack of noise. My brother’s men are too clever not to recognize what that means.”</p><p></p><p> “The Warchief’s plan,” continued the Faceless One, over Tolly’s sigh, “is that at dawn we will attack with our army. Orth will move out of his encampment to meet us, though he will remain at the rear of the lines directing his forces. Likely, he will take a position at the top of a tall dune, or just beyond the crest where he can view the battle. Initially, we will be outnumbered. But then Keth will commit his reserve. This will force Orth to commit his reserves, lest he be outnumbered. With the reserves at the front, he will be relatively unprotected. That is when you will strike.”</p><p></p><p> “How will we approach?” asked Tolly. “There are some of us unskilled in stealth, myself and the sentinel included.”</p><p></p><p> “The Sorcerer-Captain has offered several of his men to render you invisible, as you mentioned before. We will move you into position behind their lines tonight, and hide your position. You will be given several sand-tarps that will allow you to conceal yourselves through the night until the battle starts. It will then be up to you to locate Orth and approach without being spotted.”</p><p></p><p> The party looked at each other and nodded.</p><p></p><p> “As for the outcome,” the Faceless One said, glancing over at Keth, “my Warchief and I have a disagreement. Keth would prefer you take Orth alive; I would rather you kill him and have done with it.”</p><p></p><p> “What is your reason?” Autumn asked Keth.</p><p></p><p> “I would like to capture my brother, restore him to full health if needed, and then bring him before both armies, where he and I would fight to the death. That way, there would be no doubt as to who the true warchief is.”</p><p></p><p> “Can he be trusted not to cheat?” Tolly asked.</p><p></p><p> “He probably will,” the Faceless One said. “That is why I feel it is better to kill him and have done with it.”</p><p></p><p> “I think we can take into account the feasibility of capturing Orth once we are there,” Tolly said.</p><p></p><p> Keth and the Faceless One looked at each other, and nodded. “Very well,” Keth replied. “Then you will be given two signal torches; light the one that gives off green smoke if you take him alive, and the red one should he be killed.”</p><p></p><p> “And if they both go off, we’ve been hit by a <em>fireball</em>.” Tolly commented.</p><p></p><p> Everyone looked at Tolly, silent for a split second. “Tolly made a funny,” Osborn said in awe.</p><p></p><p> “I did?” Tolly said, straightfaced.</p><p></p><p> “So, are there any questions?” the Faceless One asked. “Your eyes may see something ours do not.”</p><p></p><p> “Osborn?” Tolly asked.</p><p></p><p> The hin shook his head. “I have no experience in this,” he said. “My background was more in the area of sneaking into a house when everyone was asleep and taking stuff.”</p><p></p><p> Kyle, who had been quiet for most of the meeting, suddenly spoke. “What capabilities have you witnessed from Orth’s lieutenants?”</p><p></p><p> The Faceless One sighed. “Takar seems able to manipulate pure force, much as our sorcerers can create force missiles or force shields, but his abilities exceed theirs in both breadth and power. Sun-Harrow I have not seen in battle. Neither of them carries weapons, as I said before, though Sun_Harrow does wear his full plate. Gell carries her sacred battle-axe, of course. She is the most powerful cleric in the encampment, though I’m not familiar enough with such things to give you a certain answer. However, I have heard her comment to Orth that she stays at his side to protect him because she does not have the power to bring him back. Take from that what you will.”</p><p></p><p> “I think we are in agreement with your plan,” Arrie said. “If you will give us an hour to discuss details amongst ourselves before we leave?”</p><p></p><p> “Of course,” Keth said. “I will also make healers available to you if you need them. I won’t mince words with you – the success of our war against my brother rests upon your shoulders.”</p><p></p><p> The party took their leave, and went quickly back to their tents to ready their equipment and discuss their plan of attack. Soon they were called out by one of Keth’s honor guard, and four of the guards and a trio of sorcerers escorted them out of the camp. They rode out as far as they could before they risked being spotted by Orth’s sentries, and then the party dismounted. The guards took possession of their horses as the sorcerers began to cast invisibility spells. Soon the party was trekking out across the sand, their footprints being obscured by the <em>unseen servant</em> that Kyle had summoned.</p><p></p><p> The party dug into the sand about a half-mile from where they guessed the battle would take place, hiding under the sand tarps and getting rest. As dawn broke, they emerged and made their preparations in silence. They moved toward the battle site, with Kyle using a <em>prestidigitation </em>spell this time to obscure the tracks in the sand. They walked for about an hour, hearing the sounds of many troops moving off in the distance. Soon they approached the back side of a large dune where they suspected Orth had set up his command post. Osborn crept forward to scout, followed by the hound archon Alexriel, still in his dog form. They returned a few minutes later.</p><p></p><p> “They are there,” Alexriel said, “about twenty or thirty feet below the crest of the dune. Orth is there, as are the abominations, and the priestess of Grabâkh. There are also five of Orth’s bodyguard stationed below them.”</p><p></p><p> “Okay, then,” Tolly said. “As we planned. Xu, Osborn, and Alexriel from the far side, Autumn and myself from the other, and Arrie and Kyle in the center. Lanara will remain up at the crest of the dune to monitor the situation and call for a retreat if needed.” Tolly turned to Arrie. “Arrie, you’re going after Orth. Do you think you can keep from killing him?”</p><p></p><p> She shrugged. “I’ll try. But if he makes me hit him, I’m going to hit him hard.”</p><p></p><p> “Autumn, since there are no outsiders here, you can take on Gell,” Tolly said. “I’ll place a spell of silence on you just before we go, to help mask the sound of our approach, but it will also hinder her.”</p><p></p><p> “I will tend to the honor guard,” Xu said.</p><p></p><p> “Good. Osborn and I will go where we are needed most. Kyle…”</p><p></p><p> Kyle looked up. “I will deal with Takar and Foe-Hammer.”</p><p></p><p> Tolly seemed a bit taken off guard. There was a note of grim finality in Kyle’s voice he’d never heard before. “Very well. Perhaps if you can neutralize them quickly, Osborn and I can dispatch them before they do real harm.”</p><p></p><p> “Perhaps.” Kyle then turned to Arrie. “When we go over the crest of the dune, there is one thing I can try that may neutralize Orth as a threat. You’ll know within the first moments if it was successful or not. Be prepared to change your target.”</p><p></p><p> “Okay,” Arrie said. “So, are we ready?”</p><p></p><p> Kyle nodded, and began casting the last of his defensive spells. He felt ashamed for a moment that he was piling so many defenses on himself, rather than using them on his friends, but he knew that he had to do his best to live long enough to make a difference. It wouldn’t change his ultimate fate, but if he could draw enough attention to himself, it might make a difference in the fate of the others.</p><p></p><p> At last, they were ready. They began to march up the hill, even as Kyle cast his last preparatory spell, <em>haste</em>, on the party just before Tolly’s silence enveloped Autumn. Alexriel shifted into his archon form, drawing his blade as they reached the top and began to spread out. Thus, with the sun at their backs and the sounds of war echoing across the dunes, the strangers from the east descended on the Warchief Orth.</p><p></p><p style="text-align: center">* * *</p><p></p><p><em><span style="color: SandyBrown">An excerpt from The Time of Trials, Volume XII:</span></em></p><p><em><span style="color: SandyBrown"></span></em></p><p> <em><span style="color: SandyBrown"></span></em></p><p><em><span style="color: SandyBrown"></span></em></p><p><em><span style="color: SandyBrown"> “Gather, brave warriors, and listen to a tale of strength, and of courage, and of victory. Know that all I speak is true; for what I see is the same as that which Grabâkh sees, for his Eye is everywhere, and should my words be false, his Axe shall strike me down.</span></em></p><p><em><span style="color: SandyBrown"></span></em></p><p><em><span style="color: SandyBrown"> “On this very morning did seven companions set out to do battle with the Warchief of Clan Nak’to. One of the companions was not among them; the Chosen of Erito was forbidden to do battle, as the Mother Goddess had called him to other tasks that would aid his clan. But Ardara had sent one of Her servants to the aid of Her Chosen, as in her wisdom Ardara knew that Clan Hulg was most fit to rule.</span></em></p><p><em><span style="color: SandyBrown"></span></em></p><p><em><span style="color: SandyBrown"> “It is known that the Warchief of Clan Nak’to leads his clan from the rear, not from the front as is proper. This was offensive to Grabâkh, and so he gave the Warchief of Clan Hulg the wisdom to know how to strike, and to the companions he gave the gift of stealth, so that they might approach the Warchief and his guard unseen. The Warchief sat at the lee of a dune, sending orders to his clan with drums and flags, while he sat safe with his Council and his guard.</span></em></p><p><em><span style="color: SandyBrown"></span></em></p><p><em><span style="color: SandyBrown"> “The companions descended upon the Warchief like a firestorm. The Lady of Chains drew first blood on the Warchief, who despite his years of training on he field of war was unable to avoid her righteous fury. Then the Chosen of Ardara struck out at the Warchief, crying, ‘You have been tried by She Who Sits in Judgment, and found wanting! Feel Ardara’s wrath!’ And the Warchief was struck by a terrible curse that made his arms weak and his wits dim. And then the Warlock, who rose into the air like the desert hawk, pointed at the Warchief and spoke words of power, and the Warchief was entrapped in a globe that no living being could shatter. For the Warlock knew that to take the Warchief alive would be the greatest victory. And so the Warchief, wounded and cursed, was forced to watch the battle unfold around him but was unable to take part in it.”</span></em></p><p><em><span style="color: SandyBrown"></span></em></p><p><em><span style="color: SandyBrown"> The warsinger paused for effect before continuing. “The battle raged on, even as the Warsinger of the companions rose her voice over the fury of battle. Two among the Warchief’s Council were known to the companions and hated above all; the abominations who dared to use forbidden powers in defiance of the One, the Four, and the Many. These two, the Juggernaut and the Mind-Witch, were the focus of the companion’s wrath. Also among the Warchief’s Council was the Chosen of Grabâkh, and five of his honor guard. To make certain that the Mind-Witch could not use his power to flee, the Warlock struck him with more magic that denied him the ability to leave the plane. The Devil-Slayer smote the Chosen, and cut deeply into her flesh, and the Knife-Master threw a pair of his daggers into her as well. The Juggernaut tried to attack the Chosen of Ardara with claws that grew from his fingers, but the claws only struck his shield. The hound archon swung his holy blade at the Mind-Witch, sending his blood into the sand. The Lady of Chains also cut into the Mind-Witch, seeking to send the abomination to its grave. Under such a blinding assault, the Mind-Witch could not hope to prevail, and he died a useless death, having not even raised a hand against the companions.</span></em></p><p><em><span style="color: SandyBrown"></span></em></p><p><em><span style="color: SandyBrown">“The Flowing Fist ran with the speed of a desert horse and engaged the honor guard, taking on all five at once in defiance of their skill in battle. The Juggernaut managed to land a blow on the Chosen of Ardara, and then before their eyes grew even larger than he had been before, transforming into a true colossus. The companions knew that the greatest threat now lay in the unnatural claws of the Juggernaut. Blades flew from the fingers of the Knife-Master, the holy hammer of the Chosen of Ardara sang through the air, the Lady of Chains swung her weapon at him, and the Warlock threw terrible magics at him, sapping the Juggernaut’s impressive strength. The Juggernaut struck back, laying a terrible blow on the Knife-Master and then another upon the hound archon.</span></em></p><p><em><span style="color: SandyBrown"></span></em></p><p><em><span style="color: SandyBrown">“The Devil-Slayer continued to press her attack on the Chosen of Grabâkh, wounding her time and again with her blade. The Chosen called upon Grabâkh to heal her wounds, but our god looks poorly on those who would save themselves instead of striking against their foe. Her wounds were healed, but the Devil-Slayer was able to deliver far more death that the Chosen could ward away. Unable to stand long in battle against this terrible foe, instead she summoned the power of the fire god and shattered the magical prison that held the Warchief.” There was a pause as the audience gasped, as they had at every other telling. “But her act of defiance came too late, as the Devil-Slayer’s sword bit deeply into her gut and she fell to the ground. The Devil-Slayer prepared to end the Chosen’s life, but then she heard the words of their Warsinger, telling her to spare the priestess. For the Warsinger had seen into the heart of the Chosen, and knew she was not true to the Warchief of Clan Nak’to. So the Devil-Slayer held her killing blow, and instead turned to fend off the honor guards who had come too late defend their priestess, exchanging blows with them.</span></em></p><p><em><span style="color: SandyBrown"></span></em></p><p><em><span style="color: SandyBrown">“Now free to act, the Warchief called his troops to rally around him. The honor guard had fought bravely under Grabâkh’s watchful Eye, and now did honor to their Warchief by following his orders without question. But the companions were already in their midst, and so their defenses were of little use to them. One of the guards fell to the Flowing Fist, a second to the Devil-Slayer, and a third to a blast of lightning from the Warlock that struck the Warchief and all his guards. The Lady of Chains broke away from the Juggernaut to continue her pursuit of the Warchief, wounding him severely. The Chosen of Ardara also smote the Warchief, seeking to punish him for his blasphemy in consorting with abominations.</span></em></p><p><em><span style="color: SandyBrown"></span></em></p><p><em><span style="color: SandyBrown">“The Knife-Master and the hound archon continued their assault on the Juggernaut, who seemed to ignore their blows as he fought. But he could not ignore the blast of magical fire that came from the Knife-Master, summoned from an item forged by the hand of their missing companion, the Chosen of Erito. Thus it was that even in his absence the Chosen of Erito was able to lend his aid in battle. The Juggernaut chose to focus his power upon the archon and the priest who had summoned him, striking at both in turn with his massive arms and landing telling blows despite being weakened by the Warlock. But his decision was a costly one, as the Devil-Slayer saw an opening in his massive armor and slid her blade into his heart, killing him. Now all that remained was the Warchief.” There was another dramatic pause; the camp was silent as a grave.</span></em></p><p><em><span style="color: SandyBrown"></span></em></p><p><em><span style="color: SandyBrown">“Seeing that his cause was lost, the Warchief forgot his honor and the teachings of Grabâkh, and tried to flee. But the Lady of Chains was too fast, and used her chain to bind the Warchief. Then the Flowing Fist landed a deadly blow on the Warchief, causing him to fall. With their leader gone, the honor guard could do naught but preserve their honor by a glorious death. The companions gathered the bodies of the dead and their captives, and moved away into the deep desert as the armies of Clan Nak’to turned to pursue them. But with their leader gone, the tribesmen were confused and disorganized, and failed to locate them. And so, the companions returned to Clan Hulg, victorious. By the Eye and the Axe, this is what I have seen.”</span></em></p><p> </p><p style="text-align: center">* * *</p><p></p><p>“Damn, this guy is heavy,” grunted Autumn as she carried Orth slung over her shoulder. “I’ll bet this part doesn’t make it into the stories.”</p><p></p><p>“Oh, I dunno,” replied Lanara. “I bet I could make it work. ‘And thus did the righteous devil-slayer sling the sack of sh** that was the warchief up into her mighty thews to return him, victorious, to the camp of his enemies.”</p><p></p><p>Autumn favored Lanara with only a dirty look as she trudged on through the sand. Stealth had been all but abandoned at this point; it was only a few minutes after the search parties had ceased looking for them, but they could still hear the battle raging on over the dunes. The party had decided it was a seriously bad idea to try and make their way to Keth’s camp through that, and had opted to circle around as fast as they could. Xu, with her superior speed over the grasping desert sands, was scouting; mainly keeping an eye on the skirmisher forces, to let the party know if any were to approach them.</p><p></p><p>Ironically enough for Xu, she was enjoying herself. Not because of the battle they had just fought and won, though the knowledge that she had made the world a bit safer by taking some abominations out of it was comforting. It was that she was once again free to stretch her limbs, and be best what she was; herself. She glanced out over the carnage that sprawled across the desert floor, shaking her head. The blood of hundreds of horses, orcs, and their allies sunk immediately into the sands, but dyed it a crimson hue reminiscent of certain spices of her homeland. Xu decided that she would be set off of cinnamon toast for some time.</p><p></p><p>“The battle still rages,” Xu called to her companions from the top of a dune. “It would seem that Orth’s men are a bit more tenacious that we’d first anticipated.”</p><p></p><p>Kyle shook his head. “I hope Kavan’s okay. The longer this battle goes on, the more work he’s going to have to do.”</p><p></p><p>Xu nodded in agreement, and looked back out over the battle. A strange flash of light caught her eye, from what was obviously near Keth’s banner. She rubbed sand and grit out of her eyes to make sure that she was seeing what she was seeing, and glanced quickly at Orth’s belongings to double-check herself, then cried back to her companions. “Something strange is happening! Orth’s battle-standard just appeared on the field next to Keth’s!”</p><p></p><p>“Wait here,” said Osborn to the metal-clad warriors. “I’ll go have a look-see.” He scrambled up the duneside to lie down near Xu, and peered out over the battlefield. “Yeah, that’s his standard alright. I’ve got one better for you, though, Xu – Orth’s down there, too!”</p><p></p><p>Kyle, overhearing this, double-checked Orth with his magic sight, but saw nothing other than his own party’s lingering effects. “Um, I’m pretty sure we’ve got the real Orth here. Anything magical on him is whatever we put there.”</p><p></p><p>“An illusion, then?” Tolly was close to gaping. “I can’t believe Keth would be capable of doing such a thing.”</p><p></p><p>“I can,” Arrie piped up. “Keth will do whatever it takes to preserve the lives of his men. If he kills an illusory Orth, the battle will stop right then and there.”</p><p></p><p>Tolly slapped the head of his hammer into his mailed hand, then winced. He still sometimes forgot just how much power flowed through that hammer. “I need to have some words with that man, then.”</p><p></p><p>“Maybe, maybe not Tolly. He’s a general. He’ll explain things to us if he feels like it. I’m sure your superiors don’t always fully explain themselves to you. In fact, if they had, I don’t think we’d be caught in the middle of a clan war.”</p><p></p><p>Tolly grumbled a bit, then sighed and shook his head.</p><p></p><p>“Come on!” piped Lanara. “We’d better get back before the rest of the army does. We’ll miss the party!”</p><p></p><p style="text-align: center">* * *</p><p></p><p> “Nicely done,” said Kavan, offering his hand to help Lanara sit down. “One of these days you’ll have to recite it in something besides Orcish.”</p><p></p><p>The group had just come from Keth’s tent, where Kavan had rejoined them. Lanara had told their tale to Keth and the Faceless One in classical orcish style, which had left some members of the party more confused than Keth’s explanation of what happened on the field of battle. The cacophony of orcish voices echoing across the desert sand was nearly deafening. With their enemies vanquished, there was no longer any need to observe the strict discipline of silence that normally permeated the camp.</p><p></p><p>Most of the tribe was gathered in a large circle near the southern edge of the camp, squeezing in close together to hear the warsingers tell the tale of the final battle against the enemy. Many of them had heard the tale already, and some had heard it two or three times; but there were those who had not yet heard it told, and there were none who were not willing to have it told again.</p><p></p><p>“Remind me again,” Arrie asked, “why all the ‘Lady of Chains’ and ‘Chosen of Grabâkh’ stuff? Why not just use names? I know there’s a reason for it, but it escapes me.”</p><p></p><p>“Orcish warsinger tradition,” Lanara explained. “It’s considered arrogant to be mentioned by name in a warsinger tale. Only the greatest of the orcish legends get that honor. So when telling a tale of a great battle, everyone gets an honorific to identify them. The practice also allows the orcs to spread their stories between clans, making each tribe seem as if it’s done more than it really has. Probably about half the stories you’ve heard since we’ve been here about the great victories of Clan Hulg actually originated with another tribe entirely.”</p><p></p><p>“Gotcha.”</p><p></p><p>The conversation trailed off as the party turned their attention to a discussion between Tolly and Kyle, who were sitting a short distance away. The volume of the conversation had risen slightly, mostly on Tolly’s part.</p><p></p><p>“I fail to understand why they haven’t been destroyed,” Tolly said.</p><p></p><p>“We’ll get to it soon enough, Tolly,” said Kyle. “I just want a chance to poke at them a bit and see what they do.”</p><p></p><p>“They are items infused with psionic power,” Tolly argued, “and therefore are abominations.”</p><p></p><p>“No, Sun-Harrow and Takar were abominations. These are just the things they owned.”</p><p></p><p>“Your distinctions are pointless. They are to be destroyed.”</p><p></p><p>“And, like I said, they will be. But I want the chance to see how they work, so that maybe we can figure out what these ‘abominations’ are capable of doing.”</p><p></p><p>“The only thing I want to learn from these things is how to destroy them more efficiently.” Tolly stood up and walked away, seeming immune to the merriment around them.</p><p></p><p>Osborn stood up and shuffled over to Kyle. “You okay?”</p><p></p><p>“Fine.” Kyle had a strange smile on his face. “Tolly’ll come around, I know. He’s just being overly zealous since that archon was hanging around for so long.” Kyle looked at Osborn. “How are you doing?”</p><p></p><p>“Better after healing,” Osborn said, rotating his right arm at the shoulder and wincing slightly. “Sun-Harrow really clocked me. Of course, you wouldn’t know – nobody even touched you.”</p><p></p><p>“I know,” Kyle said, “kind of strange, don’t you think?”</p><p></p><p>“Nah, it’s not that strange. You’re just good at what you do. That trick with Orth in the bubble was priceless. Too bad Gell managed to dispel it before we got to have some real fun.”</p><p></p><p>“Thanks.” Kyle had a far-away look in his eyes, and for a moment Osborn was afraid he was going to slip back into the withdrawn moodiness he’d been in yesterday. Then, suddenly, Kyle turned back to the hin. “Life’s a funny thing, you know?”</p><p></p><p>“How so?”</p><p></p><p>“It’s just funny what a man can put himself through, how far gone he can get, before he finally gets the chance to see that maybe he’s looked at things the wrong way for a while,” Kyle stood up, brushing sand off his robes. “But enough talk. Until I can get somewhere where I can buy spell components, those psionic items are just going to have to wait. Hopefully I can keep Tolly from burning them before I get to it. But there’s a party going on right now, and here I sit missing it.”</p><p></p><p>Kyle walked over to where the rest of the group sat, grinning like a madman. He looked down at the person seated to his right, and extended his hand to her.</p><p></p><p>“Pardon me, milady,” he said, “but would you care to dance?”</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Delemental, post: 2398711, member: 5203"] Kyle never thought it would be this easy to accept the fact that he was going to die. He listened to the arguments of his companions from an oddly detached state, knowing that they were quibbling over unimportant details. The crux of the matter was unchanging; they were going to face down Orth, and more importantly, they were going to face down his two lieutenants, the ones who wielded the power that the archon Alexriel referred to as ‘psionics’. More to the point, [I]he[/I] was going to face them down. Kyle almost felt like weeping. It had taken him several hours to come to grips with it, but he could no longer deny it. The staff he carried, the one he had picked from the vaults of the elven Imperial Court, was designed for the purpose of combating psionics. He could no longer deny that the staff had chosen him to be the agent through which it did its work. That it had chosen poorly was irrelevant now. The staff’s abilities to detect sources of the pre-Cataclysmic abomination had been passed to him, which made him responsible for identifying and confronting threats of that nature. His eyes fell onto Autumn’s face, radiant even in the shadowy light of the orc encampment. He thought of what she might say if he had told her earlier what he was really thinking. She would worry, of course. They would all worry. They might try to relieve the burden on him, try to take on more than their share in battle. Their concerns might divert their attention at a critical moment. Kyle was tired of his own inadequacies as a mage dragging the rest of them down. This was too important. They all had to be at their best. So, he kept silent. Better that they think him moody and unfriendly this evening, than know the truth. He had no doubts that he would be annihilated. He was no match for one, let alone two. The best he could hope for was to make the best effort possible, and hope that his efforts would give his friends the edge they needed to bring the two abominations down. The task was really in their hands, not his – all he could do was try and minimize the advantage these two lieutenants had, if he didn’t screw it up. Kyle’s thoughts were still distant as Lanara spoke. “Keth wants us to meet with him and his Master of Spies after they finish their council,” she said. “I think he wants to impart some personal, private information.” “All right,” said Tolly. “Is your dog coming with you?” asked Lanara. Tolly glanced back at Alexriel, who had returned to his dog form and was patiently on the floor, wagging his tail. “Sure, I’ll bring my ‘dog’.” Everyone, of course, knew that the dog was the hound archon that Tolly had summoned early that morning, who now chose to accompany them to destroy the two wielders of psionics that were with Orth. The party was discussing general battle plans when an aide came to their tent. “Keth wishes to see you now,” he said. As the party walked to Keth’s tent, Tolly looked down at Alexriel. “I wish to make certain of something. Are we supposed to destroy any objects we find that are infused with this psionic energy, or can they be used against our enemies?” “The abominations and their tools must be destroyed,” Alexriel replied sternly. “I thought that was the case.” As the party approached the tent, Tolly heard the faint sounds of an argument in Orcish coming from inside. He couldn’t understand the language, and so had no idea what the argument was about. A moment later, they were all escorted inside by one of Keth’s honor guards, who promptly left. Keth sat in the center of his tent, along with another figure in black leather. As they entered, several of the party members seemed surprised when they saw this new person. “I didn’t know you had any hin in your clan, Keth,” Osborn said. “Who are you talking about, Osborn?” Kavan asked. “That guy,” he said, pointing at the black-clad figure. “He’s a hin.” “No,” Kavan said slowly, “he’s an elf.” “I’d swear that she is an assimar,” Autumn said. “Allow me to explain,” Keth said, “this is my spymaster, the Faceless One. This is, I am given to understand, his Talent. But it is one that he has no control over. Thus he appears to each of you as a member of your own race and gender.” “That would get kind of annoying after a while,” Arrie said. The Faceless One looked at her. “You have no idea. Imagine my difficulty in finding a woman to bed.” Xu’s brows arched at the mental image as the Faceless One turned to Lanara. “Keth has requested I give you the information I have gathered while wandering around his camp.” “That would be helpful,” Tolly admitted. “What can you tell us about Orth and those who follow him?” The Faceless One’s eyes lingered on Lanara for a moment before turning to regard Tolly. “Orth is a powerful warrior, but he is also a smart one. He comes from a long line of chieftains, long known as warlords. Their mere presence can inspire their forces to victory. That is why you have been assigned this mission – without Orth, many of his forces will lose the taste for battle.” The Faceless One scratched at his chin. “Where to begin? Well, let us start with Orth himself. He favors a rather cunning style of fighting, rather than the smashing and looting favored by most orcs. He is currently fighting with a falchion in personal combat, but unlike most orc chieftains he keeps his composure most of the time. He leads from the rear, which is unusual for an orc, but it is said that he has confidence in his ability to win victory and this has no need to be present at their battles. That is why this tactic may succeed, where against other clans it would not be considered, as the chieftain would be at the head of his army rather than isolated at the rear. “It is unlikely he will attack again this evening. Orcish tradition dictates that battles take place under the watchful eye of Grabâkh, so that he may see them prove their strength against their enemy. Night attacks are not unknown, but not on this large a scale.” “It seems your brother has begun using several non-traditional methods,” Autumn commented to Keth. “Yes, the ones with the strange magic,” answered the Faceless One. “There are two who remain with him at all times, but whether they are allies or bodyguards I cannot say. One of them is… I am not certain. If he is human, as he appears, then he is the largest human I have ever seen, and hope never to meet his like in battle. He is perhaps a third again as tall as Keth, and seems carved from a solid block of muscle. If I had not seen him move and speak with the grace and wits of a human, I would have thought him an ogre. He wears a suit of full plate armor, though he carries no weapons. I have heard this one called Sun-Harrow.” “Not an auspicious name,” Tolly commented. The Faceless One nodded his agreement. “The second of them appears to be an orc-touched, short in stature compared to most of his kind. He appears the more intellectual of the two, and he is closer to what I would know as a sorcerer. He wears no armor and carries no weapon. This one I have heard called Takar.” “What does the relationship with the priests of Grabâkh appear to be?” Tolly asked. “It varies. Their leader, an orc priestess by the name of Gell, also stays near Orth, but does not seem friendly toward these other two. I would describe her as ‘guardedly hostile’. The lesser priests seem to regard these two, especially Takar, with a combination of fear and reverence.” “Anyone else with him?” Lanara asked. “He has an honor guard, anywhere from four to ten orcs with pole-axes. They are unremarkable, though they seem to known what they’re doing.” The Faceless One took a sip of a strong-smelling concoction in a wooden cup. “Any questions?” “How did you come by this information?” Autumn asked. “I managed to sneak in during yesterday’s battle,” he explained, “and looked around for a while. I stayed for about an hour or so after Orth’s armies returned, and then I left.” “Can you draw us a map of the camp, so we can plan our route in?” asked Tolly. “And what can you tell us about their patterns of movement?” Autumn added. “Guard rotations, and the like?” The Faceless One shook his head. “You misunderstand. You will not be attacking Orth in his camp. His tents are in the middle of the camp, and it would be impossible for you to get close enough, especially with your heavy armor. We had considered this at first, but realized that sending you to attack Orth in his camp would fail.” “But Keth’s sorcerers have offered to render us invisible,” said Tolly. “And with a silence spell…” “No,” interrupted Keth. “Magical silence dampens sound within an area. You would be unable to get close without someone detecting a sudden lack of noise. My brother’s men are too clever not to recognize what that means.” “The Warchief’s plan,” continued the Faceless One, over Tolly’s sigh, “is that at dawn we will attack with our army. Orth will move out of his encampment to meet us, though he will remain at the rear of the lines directing his forces. Likely, he will take a position at the top of a tall dune, or just beyond the crest where he can view the battle. Initially, we will be outnumbered. But then Keth will commit his reserve. This will force Orth to commit his reserves, lest he be outnumbered. With the reserves at the front, he will be relatively unprotected. That is when you will strike.” “How will we approach?” asked Tolly. “There are some of us unskilled in stealth, myself and the sentinel included.” “The Sorcerer-Captain has offered several of his men to render you invisible, as you mentioned before. We will move you into position behind their lines tonight, and hide your position. You will be given several sand-tarps that will allow you to conceal yourselves through the night until the battle starts. It will then be up to you to locate Orth and approach without being spotted.” The party looked at each other and nodded. “As for the outcome,” the Faceless One said, glancing over at Keth, “my Warchief and I have a disagreement. Keth would prefer you take Orth alive; I would rather you kill him and have done with it.” “What is your reason?” Autumn asked Keth. “I would like to capture my brother, restore him to full health if needed, and then bring him before both armies, where he and I would fight to the death. That way, there would be no doubt as to who the true warchief is.” “Can he be trusted not to cheat?” Tolly asked. “He probably will,” the Faceless One said. “That is why I feel it is better to kill him and have done with it.” “I think we can take into account the feasibility of capturing Orth once we are there,” Tolly said. Keth and the Faceless One looked at each other, and nodded. “Very well,” Keth replied. “Then you will be given two signal torches; light the one that gives off green smoke if you take him alive, and the red one should he be killed.” “And if they both go off, we’ve been hit by a [I]fireball[/I].” Tolly commented. Everyone looked at Tolly, silent for a split second. “Tolly made a funny,” Osborn said in awe. “I did?” Tolly said, straightfaced. “So, are there any questions?” the Faceless One asked. “Your eyes may see something ours do not.” “Osborn?” Tolly asked. The hin shook his head. “I have no experience in this,” he said. “My background was more in the area of sneaking into a house when everyone was asleep and taking stuff.” Kyle, who had been quiet for most of the meeting, suddenly spoke. “What capabilities have you witnessed from Orth’s lieutenants?” The Faceless One sighed. “Takar seems able to manipulate pure force, much as our sorcerers can create force missiles or force shields, but his abilities exceed theirs in both breadth and power. Sun-Harrow I have not seen in battle. Neither of them carries weapons, as I said before, though Sun_Harrow does wear his full plate. Gell carries her sacred battle-axe, of course. She is the most powerful cleric in the encampment, though I’m not familiar enough with such things to give you a certain answer. However, I have heard her comment to Orth that she stays at his side to protect him because she does not have the power to bring him back. Take from that what you will.” “I think we are in agreement with your plan,” Arrie said. “If you will give us an hour to discuss details amongst ourselves before we leave?” “Of course,” Keth said. “I will also make healers available to you if you need them. I won’t mince words with you – the success of our war against my brother rests upon your shoulders.” The party took their leave, and went quickly back to their tents to ready their equipment and discuss their plan of attack. Soon they were called out by one of Keth’s honor guard, and four of the guards and a trio of sorcerers escorted them out of the camp. They rode out as far as they could before they risked being spotted by Orth’s sentries, and then the party dismounted. The guards took possession of their horses as the sorcerers began to cast invisibility spells. Soon the party was trekking out across the sand, their footprints being obscured by the [I]unseen servant[/I] that Kyle had summoned. The party dug into the sand about a half-mile from where they guessed the battle would take place, hiding under the sand tarps and getting rest. As dawn broke, they emerged and made their preparations in silence. They moved toward the battle site, with Kyle using a [I]prestidigitation [/I]spell this time to obscure the tracks in the sand. They walked for about an hour, hearing the sounds of many troops moving off in the distance. Soon they approached the back side of a large dune where they suspected Orth had set up his command post. Osborn crept forward to scout, followed by the hound archon Alexriel, still in his dog form. They returned a few minutes later. “They are there,” Alexriel said, “about twenty or thirty feet below the crest of the dune. Orth is there, as are the abominations, and the priestess of Grabâkh. There are also five of Orth’s bodyguard stationed below them.” “Okay, then,” Tolly said. “As we planned. Xu, Osborn, and Alexriel from the far side, Autumn and myself from the other, and Arrie and Kyle in the center. Lanara will remain up at the crest of the dune to monitor the situation and call for a retreat if needed.” Tolly turned to Arrie. “Arrie, you’re going after Orth. Do you think you can keep from killing him?” She shrugged. “I’ll try. But if he makes me hit him, I’m going to hit him hard.” “Autumn, since there are no outsiders here, you can take on Gell,” Tolly said. “I’ll place a spell of silence on you just before we go, to help mask the sound of our approach, but it will also hinder her.” “I will tend to the honor guard,” Xu said. “Good. Osborn and I will go where we are needed most. Kyle…” Kyle looked up. “I will deal with Takar and Foe-Hammer.” Tolly seemed a bit taken off guard. There was a note of grim finality in Kyle’s voice he’d never heard before. “Very well. Perhaps if you can neutralize them quickly, Osborn and I can dispatch them before they do real harm.” “Perhaps.” Kyle then turned to Arrie. “When we go over the crest of the dune, there is one thing I can try that may neutralize Orth as a threat. You’ll know within the first moments if it was successful or not. Be prepared to change your target.” “Okay,” Arrie said. “So, are we ready?” Kyle nodded, and began casting the last of his defensive spells. He felt ashamed for a moment that he was piling so many defenses on himself, rather than using them on his friends, but he knew that he had to do his best to live long enough to make a difference. It wouldn’t change his ultimate fate, but if he could draw enough attention to himself, it might make a difference in the fate of the others. At last, they were ready. They began to march up the hill, even as Kyle cast his last preparatory spell, [I]haste[/I], on the party just before Tolly’s silence enveloped Autumn. Alexriel shifted into his archon form, drawing his blade as they reached the top and began to spread out. Thus, with the sun at their backs and the sounds of war echoing across the dunes, the strangers from the east descended on the Warchief Orth. [CENTER]* * *[/CENTER] [I][COLOR=SandyBrown]An excerpt from The Time of Trials, Volume XII: “Gather, brave warriors, and listen to a tale of strength, and of courage, and of victory. Know that all I speak is true; for what I see is the same as that which Grabâkh sees, for his Eye is everywhere, and should my words be false, his Axe shall strike me down. “On this very morning did seven companions set out to do battle with the Warchief of Clan Nak’to. One of the companions was not among them; the Chosen of Erito was forbidden to do battle, as the Mother Goddess had called him to other tasks that would aid his clan. But Ardara had sent one of Her servants to the aid of Her Chosen, as in her wisdom Ardara knew that Clan Hulg was most fit to rule. “It is known that the Warchief of Clan Nak’to leads his clan from the rear, not from the front as is proper. This was offensive to Grabâkh, and so he gave the Warchief of Clan Hulg the wisdom to know how to strike, and to the companions he gave the gift of stealth, so that they might approach the Warchief and his guard unseen. The Warchief sat at the lee of a dune, sending orders to his clan with drums and flags, while he sat safe with his Council and his guard. “The companions descended upon the Warchief like a firestorm. The Lady of Chains drew first blood on the Warchief, who despite his years of training on he field of war was unable to avoid her righteous fury. Then the Chosen of Ardara struck out at the Warchief, crying, ‘You have been tried by She Who Sits in Judgment, and found wanting! Feel Ardara’s wrath!’ And the Warchief was struck by a terrible curse that made his arms weak and his wits dim. And then the Warlock, who rose into the air like the desert hawk, pointed at the Warchief and spoke words of power, and the Warchief was entrapped in a globe that no living being could shatter. For the Warlock knew that to take the Warchief alive would be the greatest victory. And so the Warchief, wounded and cursed, was forced to watch the battle unfold around him but was unable to take part in it.” The warsinger paused for effect before continuing. “The battle raged on, even as the Warsinger of the companions rose her voice over the fury of battle. Two among the Warchief’s Council were known to the companions and hated above all; the abominations who dared to use forbidden powers in defiance of the One, the Four, and the Many. These two, the Juggernaut and the Mind-Witch, were the focus of the companion’s wrath. Also among the Warchief’s Council was the Chosen of Grabâkh, and five of his honor guard. To make certain that the Mind-Witch could not use his power to flee, the Warlock struck him with more magic that denied him the ability to leave the plane. The Devil-Slayer smote the Chosen, and cut deeply into her flesh, and the Knife-Master threw a pair of his daggers into her as well. The Juggernaut tried to attack the Chosen of Ardara with claws that grew from his fingers, but the claws only struck his shield. The hound archon swung his holy blade at the Mind-Witch, sending his blood into the sand. The Lady of Chains also cut into the Mind-Witch, seeking to send the abomination to its grave. Under such a blinding assault, the Mind-Witch could not hope to prevail, and he died a useless death, having not even raised a hand against the companions. “The Flowing Fist ran with the speed of a desert horse and engaged the honor guard, taking on all five at once in defiance of their skill in battle. The Juggernaut managed to land a blow on the Chosen of Ardara, and then before their eyes grew even larger than he had been before, transforming into a true colossus. The companions knew that the greatest threat now lay in the unnatural claws of the Juggernaut. Blades flew from the fingers of the Knife-Master, the holy hammer of the Chosen of Ardara sang through the air, the Lady of Chains swung her weapon at him, and the Warlock threw terrible magics at him, sapping the Juggernaut’s impressive strength. The Juggernaut struck back, laying a terrible blow on the Knife-Master and then another upon the hound archon. “The Devil-Slayer continued to press her attack on the Chosen of Grabâkh, wounding her time and again with her blade. The Chosen called upon Grabâkh to heal her wounds, but our god looks poorly on those who would save themselves instead of striking against their foe. Her wounds were healed, but the Devil-Slayer was able to deliver far more death that the Chosen could ward away. Unable to stand long in battle against this terrible foe, instead she summoned the power of the fire god and shattered the magical prison that held the Warchief.” There was a pause as the audience gasped, as they had at every other telling. “But her act of defiance came too late, as the Devil-Slayer’s sword bit deeply into her gut and she fell to the ground. The Devil-Slayer prepared to end the Chosen’s life, but then she heard the words of their Warsinger, telling her to spare the priestess. For the Warsinger had seen into the heart of the Chosen, and knew she was not true to the Warchief of Clan Nak’to. So the Devil-Slayer held her killing blow, and instead turned to fend off the honor guards who had come too late defend their priestess, exchanging blows with them. “Now free to act, the Warchief called his troops to rally around him. The honor guard had fought bravely under Grabâkh’s watchful Eye, and now did honor to their Warchief by following his orders without question. But the companions were already in their midst, and so their defenses were of little use to them. One of the guards fell to the Flowing Fist, a second to the Devil-Slayer, and a third to a blast of lightning from the Warlock that struck the Warchief and all his guards. The Lady of Chains broke away from the Juggernaut to continue her pursuit of the Warchief, wounding him severely. The Chosen of Ardara also smote the Warchief, seeking to punish him for his blasphemy in consorting with abominations. “The Knife-Master and the hound archon continued their assault on the Juggernaut, who seemed to ignore their blows as he fought. But he could not ignore the blast of magical fire that came from the Knife-Master, summoned from an item forged by the hand of their missing companion, the Chosen of Erito. Thus it was that even in his absence the Chosen of Erito was able to lend his aid in battle. The Juggernaut chose to focus his power upon the archon and the priest who had summoned him, striking at both in turn with his massive arms and landing telling blows despite being weakened by the Warlock. But his decision was a costly one, as the Devil-Slayer saw an opening in his massive armor and slid her blade into his heart, killing him. Now all that remained was the Warchief.” There was another dramatic pause; the camp was silent as a grave. “Seeing that his cause was lost, the Warchief forgot his honor and the teachings of Grabâkh, and tried to flee. But the Lady of Chains was too fast, and used her chain to bind the Warchief. Then the Flowing Fist landed a deadly blow on the Warchief, causing him to fall. With their leader gone, the honor guard could do naught but preserve their honor by a glorious death. The companions gathered the bodies of the dead and their captives, and moved away into the deep desert as the armies of Clan Nak’to turned to pursue them. But with their leader gone, the tribesmen were confused and disorganized, and failed to locate them. And so, the companions returned to Clan Hulg, victorious. By the Eye and the Axe, this is what I have seen.”[/COLOR][/I] [CENTER]* * *[/CENTER] “Damn, this guy is heavy,” grunted Autumn as she carried Orth slung over her shoulder. “I’ll bet this part doesn’t make it into the stories.” “Oh, I dunno,” replied Lanara. “I bet I could make it work. ‘And thus did the righteous devil-slayer sling the sack of sh** that was the warchief up into her mighty thews to return him, victorious, to the camp of his enemies.” Autumn favored Lanara with only a dirty look as she trudged on through the sand. Stealth had been all but abandoned at this point; it was only a few minutes after the search parties had ceased looking for them, but they could still hear the battle raging on over the dunes. The party had decided it was a seriously bad idea to try and make their way to Keth’s camp through that, and had opted to circle around as fast as they could. Xu, with her superior speed over the grasping desert sands, was scouting; mainly keeping an eye on the skirmisher forces, to let the party know if any were to approach them. Ironically enough for Xu, she was enjoying herself. Not because of the battle they had just fought and won, though the knowledge that she had made the world a bit safer by taking some abominations out of it was comforting. It was that she was once again free to stretch her limbs, and be best what she was; herself. She glanced out over the carnage that sprawled across the desert floor, shaking her head. The blood of hundreds of horses, orcs, and their allies sunk immediately into the sands, but dyed it a crimson hue reminiscent of certain spices of her homeland. Xu decided that she would be set off of cinnamon toast for some time. “The battle still rages,” Xu called to her companions from the top of a dune. “It would seem that Orth’s men are a bit more tenacious that we’d first anticipated.” Kyle shook his head. “I hope Kavan’s okay. The longer this battle goes on, the more work he’s going to have to do.” Xu nodded in agreement, and looked back out over the battle. A strange flash of light caught her eye, from what was obviously near Keth’s banner. She rubbed sand and grit out of her eyes to make sure that she was seeing what she was seeing, and glanced quickly at Orth’s belongings to double-check herself, then cried back to her companions. “Something strange is happening! Orth’s battle-standard just appeared on the field next to Keth’s!” “Wait here,” said Osborn to the metal-clad warriors. “I’ll go have a look-see.” He scrambled up the duneside to lie down near Xu, and peered out over the battlefield. “Yeah, that’s his standard alright. I’ve got one better for you, though, Xu – Orth’s down there, too!” Kyle, overhearing this, double-checked Orth with his magic sight, but saw nothing other than his own party’s lingering effects. “Um, I’m pretty sure we’ve got the real Orth here. Anything magical on him is whatever we put there.” “An illusion, then?” Tolly was close to gaping. “I can’t believe Keth would be capable of doing such a thing.” “I can,” Arrie piped up. “Keth will do whatever it takes to preserve the lives of his men. If he kills an illusory Orth, the battle will stop right then and there.” Tolly slapped the head of his hammer into his mailed hand, then winced. He still sometimes forgot just how much power flowed through that hammer. “I need to have some words with that man, then.” “Maybe, maybe not Tolly. He’s a general. He’ll explain things to us if he feels like it. I’m sure your superiors don’t always fully explain themselves to you. In fact, if they had, I don’t think we’d be caught in the middle of a clan war.” Tolly grumbled a bit, then sighed and shook his head. “Come on!” piped Lanara. “We’d better get back before the rest of the army does. We’ll miss the party!” [CENTER]* * *[/CENTER] “Nicely done,” said Kavan, offering his hand to help Lanara sit down. “One of these days you’ll have to recite it in something besides Orcish.” The group had just come from Keth’s tent, where Kavan had rejoined them. Lanara had told their tale to Keth and the Faceless One in classical orcish style, which had left some members of the party more confused than Keth’s explanation of what happened on the field of battle. The cacophony of orcish voices echoing across the desert sand was nearly deafening. With their enemies vanquished, there was no longer any need to observe the strict discipline of silence that normally permeated the camp. Most of the tribe was gathered in a large circle near the southern edge of the camp, squeezing in close together to hear the warsingers tell the tale of the final battle against the enemy. Many of them had heard the tale already, and some had heard it two or three times; but there were those who had not yet heard it told, and there were none who were not willing to have it told again. “Remind me again,” Arrie asked, “why all the ‘Lady of Chains’ and ‘Chosen of Grabâkh’ stuff? Why not just use names? I know there’s a reason for it, but it escapes me.” “Orcish warsinger tradition,” Lanara explained. “It’s considered arrogant to be mentioned by name in a warsinger tale. Only the greatest of the orcish legends get that honor. So when telling a tale of a great battle, everyone gets an honorific to identify them. The practice also allows the orcs to spread their stories between clans, making each tribe seem as if it’s done more than it really has. Probably about half the stories you’ve heard since we’ve been here about the great victories of Clan Hulg actually originated with another tribe entirely.” “Gotcha.” The conversation trailed off as the party turned their attention to a discussion between Tolly and Kyle, who were sitting a short distance away. The volume of the conversation had risen slightly, mostly on Tolly’s part. “I fail to understand why they haven’t been destroyed,” Tolly said. “We’ll get to it soon enough, Tolly,” said Kyle. “I just want a chance to poke at them a bit and see what they do.” “They are items infused with psionic power,” Tolly argued, “and therefore are abominations.” “No, Sun-Harrow and Takar were abominations. These are just the things they owned.” “Your distinctions are pointless. They are to be destroyed.” “And, like I said, they will be. But I want the chance to see how they work, so that maybe we can figure out what these ‘abominations’ are capable of doing.” “The only thing I want to learn from these things is how to destroy them more efficiently.” Tolly stood up and walked away, seeming immune to the merriment around them. Osborn stood up and shuffled over to Kyle. “You okay?” “Fine.” Kyle had a strange smile on his face. “Tolly’ll come around, I know. He’s just being overly zealous since that archon was hanging around for so long.” Kyle looked at Osborn. “How are you doing?” “Better after healing,” Osborn said, rotating his right arm at the shoulder and wincing slightly. “Sun-Harrow really clocked me. Of course, you wouldn’t know – nobody even touched you.” “I know,” Kyle said, “kind of strange, don’t you think?” “Nah, it’s not that strange. You’re just good at what you do. That trick with Orth in the bubble was priceless. Too bad Gell managed to dispel it before we got to have some real fun.” “Thanks.” Kyle had a far-away look in his eyes, and for a moment Osborn was afraid he was going to slip back into the withdrawn moodiness he’d been in yesterday. Then, suddenly, Kyle turned back to the hin. “Life’s a funny thing, you know?” “How so?” “It’s just funny what a man can put himself through, how far gone he can get, before he finally gets the chance to see that maybe he’s looked at things the wrong way for a while,” Kyle stood up, brushing sand off his robes. “But enough talk. Until I can get somewhere where I can buy spell components, those psionic items are just going to have to wait. Hopefully I can keep Tolly from burning them before I get to it. But there’s a party going on right now, and here I sit missing it.” Kyle walked over to where the rest of the group sat, grinning like a madman. He looked down at the person seated to his right, and extended his hand to her. “Pardon me, milady,” he said, “but would you care to dance?” [/QUOTE]
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