Deepforge (10 page)

Grognor did the same, and then he dropped his weapons. “Let’s see what you’ve really got, interloper!”

The Drakmid dropped his weapons as well, and leapt toward the Emperor. Grognor stood his ground and met the human with a hard fist to the nose. The Drakmid fell to the ground, but quickly recovered, grabbing Grognor’s leg and causing him to fall. Grognor hit the ground hard, his blood staining the soil. As he struggled to recover, the human fell at the dwarf’s chest with his elbow pointed down. Grognor rolled out of the way just in time. They both recovered and stood facing each other again.

“Why do you attack us, what is it you want so desperately?” Grognor asked as he looked for a weakness.

“Because, it is our destiny!” The Drakmid said, and body slammed Grognor.

Both of them went down with the Drakmid on top, trying to twist Grognor’s head off. Grognor gasped for breath as he tried to pry the Drakmid’s arms away. He wrapped his legs around one of the Drakmid’s legs and twisted, causing him to lose his grip. Then, he punched up at the Drakmid, knocking him off. As the Drakmid tried to recover, Grognor leapt up and rapid punched him in the forehead, splitting open his flesh. The Drakmid stumbled back, hardly able to see from the fresh blood pouring down. Grognor then ran and jumped, feet first. His feet met with the Drakmid’s head and followed it down, snapping the Drakmid’s neck. Grognor fell to a sitting position all alone, the battle now fully passed by. He grabbed several of the superior weapons and armor, suited up, and ran as fast as he could toward the battle. A thick trail of blood flowed behind him.

As Grognor bathed in the blood and fury, the others did their best to hold their own. The Drakmids rolled over and through the army, killing without prejudice. Hundreds fell as the Drakmids slashed through them easily. The army’s well made armor was no match for the Drakmid’s superior weaponry. Blood and body parts flew as they nearly ran through the army. Only a scant few of the Drakmids fell. The Drakmids were not only much greater in numbers, but also took up much more real estate. They hit the army and wrapped around it, enveloping and going past. The army was trapped. They retreated as quickly as they could back toward the great bridge at the river.

Brendon lost sight of Grognor the instant the Drakmids hit them. He did his best to fend them off, slashing with his sword and using brute force to push them away. A Drakmid zeroed in on him and jumped at him with his superior sword. Brendon raised his sword to defend himself, but the Drakmid’s sword sliced right through it with no problem, continuing on and into Brendon’s side. Brendon yelled in pain, but grabbed onto the sword now buried in his side. The Drakmid roared and slammed his shield on Brendon’s head, knocking him down and yanking the sword out. As Brendon tried to move out of the way from the descending sword, one of their helmets crashed near him. In the distance he heard Grognor’s voice, just above the deafening sound of battle.

“It’s a ruse! They’re human!” he heard the Emperor say.

“Human,” Brendon said out loud. He rolled just out of the way and looked up at the others in the army. They had heard it too. Suddenly, their supernatural fear was gone. This wasn’t a battle against unnatural beasts; it was against humans with superior armor and weapons.

“This changes everything!” Brendon said, and stood up to face the ‘Drakmid’ trying to kill him. “Let’s see what you got!”

The Drakmid lunged at Brendon, but Brendon was too fast for him. He spun around and grabbed the attacker’s sword, easily wrenching it out of his hand. He continued to spin and shoved the sword into the superior armor of the Drakmid. A shower of sparks erupted from the Drakmid’s breastplate as the sword embedded itself deep in his chest. Brendon reached up and tore the red-skinned attacker’s helmet off, revealing a normal human head grimaced in severe pain. He then kicked him, causing him to fall down. Brendon then grabbed the attacker’s sword and shield. The army in the immediate vicinity saw it all happen and pushed back, attacking with no fear and all fury.

As soon as the dwarven portion of the army heard Grognor’s revelation, they increased their fighting fury exponentially.

“Human sport!” one dwarf cried as they quickly discovered that if they got into close quarters and used blunt weapons, they could do real damage. Once, when one of the dwarves knocked the helmet off of a Drakmid, it suddenly died from an arrow shot. The dwarf looked away to the possible source, and saw the elven elders nearby. They had returned and were using their superior skill with arrows.

“Knock their helmets off!” the dwarf yelled.

Bōddy and the elves returned to see a horrible sight. The Drakmids were killing the army with wholesale slaughter. Even with the few victories of the best warriors, the advantage was clearly the Drakmids’.

“Fire arrows!” Bōddy ordered. Their almost perfect marksmanship was quickly defeated by the Drakmid’s superior armor. The arrows simply shattered upon impact, nearly unnoticed.

“Come on, find a weakness! We’re going to lose this thing!” Bōddy yelled in frustration.

At that point, one of the dwarves knocked off one of the Drakmid’s helmets. Reacting without thinking, Bōddy let his arrow fly. It easily hit the Drakmid’s head, killing him. Bōddy then saw what they really were.

“They’re humans! Keep looking for a bare head, and fire!” Bōddy yelled.

They stood perched on the bridge, a higher platform than the flat plane where the battle raged. To the elves’ horror the army was losing badly, and the Drakmids were running unmolested toward them.

“Bōddy! We need to get out of here!” Daemon yelled.

“We have to hold the line! Pull swords!” Bōddy yelled.

“Are you crazy? We can’t hold them off! We need to get back to the villagers and get them to safety! Bōddy!” Bloom said in frustration.

“Bōddy, he’s right! Come on, we need to go!” Kaelen said, pulling on Bōddy’s arm.

Bōddy knew they were right. They were only one hundred, and the Drakmids were having no problem rolling over and through the three thousand warrior army. “Damn it!” he said, and turned to run with the rest of them. As they ran toward the other side, they saw another army of strangers approaching, about two hundred of them.

“Ah, hell!” Celine said, pulling her sword.

“We’re surrounded. There’s no way out of this,” Dryadus said.

“Stand your ground. This may be the end of line,” Montael said.

“Ready bows! Take out as many as you can before they get here!” Bōddy ordered.

Then as the new army came near, they got a good look at them…

“Bōddy…what…what the hell
are
they?” Encladean asked.

Grognor ran as fast as he could, now armored up as the Drakmids, with Drakmid weapons. He looked around for his hammer as he ran, but didn’t spend much time on the effort. He had a good bastard sword and a battle axe, good enough. As he reached the first of the Drakmids in the rear of their army, he jumped up and attacked. He brought his axe down on the Drakmid, easily slicing his head off. He could see the battle in front of him, and it was going badly. As the plain sloped down into the river valley, he saw something else. The elves were on the great bridge, but on the other side of the river he spotted another army of aliens.

“We’re not going to lose this, dammit! We can’t!” he yelled and attacked another Drakmid.

Bōddy and the elves let loose arrows as the new beasts came near, until they ran around and nearly over them. Nearly trampled, the elves never moved from their places. The new army simply ran past them, ignoring their existence.

“What in Freya’s name
were
they?” Peiele asked. “I know I scored hits on them, yet they were not harmed!

“They don’t wear armor, yet remain unharmed. They were not interested in us, either. I…don’t understand… come on!” Bōddy said as he ran back toward the battle. “Swords ready!”

The other elves did as ordered.

Grognor saw this happen, and was confused until he saw what happened next. The new army collided with the Drakmids and stopped them in their tracks. They quickly began tearing apart the Drakmids, most literally. They had no weapons, and no armor. This realization spread across the battlefield like a wave as all the Drakmids instantly stopped fight with the Deepforge army and concentrated on the new arrivals.

Grognor took advantage of this and attacked the nearest Drakmid, but the warrior seemed unconcerned. He died at Grognor’s hand, never having much of a chance. Grognor began to feel woozy- he had lost way too much blood.

As the battle between the new army and the Drakmids escalated, the Deepforge army was spared and was able to simply get out of the way. Then, almost as if from some signal, all the Drakmids turned and retreated, right at Grognor.

Grognor was very surprised at this, but prepared for epic battle. All he got was a good trampling as the Drakmids retreated over and around him, deep into the Savanna. The battle was over.

Grognor stumbled to his feet, the world swirling around him. He steadied himself with the sword and walked across the battlefield toward where the new army stood on the other side, apparently waiting.

“I don’t care who you are, I’ll take you down too!” Grognor said. He stumbled across the battlefield and held back his tears of grief. There were bodies scattered everywhere, mostly human and dwarven. Friends, relatives, fellow warriors lay dead and dismembered. The soil flowed red with blood. Screams of warriors still alive but badly wounded, or dying and screaming to their gods filled the air now, along with the stench of fresh death, feces and urine. Grognor kept up the pace, moving closer and closer to the new interlopers.

The elves quickly closed the distance and stood behind the new arrivals, ready to fight.

The Deepforge army stood in front of them, ready to fight.

Grognor finally made it through and got a good look at this new army. They were much taller than the dwarves, even taller than the humans and elves, and had grey skin. Their massive muscular bodies towered above the exhausted army. The army stood in front of the strangers, confused but prepared. They readied for battle, despite the victory. Grognor held his axe firm, covered with blood. He was resolute as he gripped even tighter, despite is critical blood loss. He knew not who these strangers were, but it mattered not. He was ready for battle.

One of them, apparently their leader as evidenced by his larger and more muscular frame, stepped forward. He showed his empty hands, palm forward.

Grognor recognized this act of armistice, and returned the gesture. He latched his battle axe and stepped forward.

Both massive armies stood ready for battle, but watched their leaders intently.

Grognor spoke first, “I’m Grognor, leader of the Deepforge Empire.”

The leader of the strange grey giants smiled warmly, and spoke, “Of course you are. I’m Bruno, leader of the Stone Children. We’re your friends, and are here to help.”

Part 3: Expedition

Chapter 11

G
rognor woke up in a soft bed with several people staring down at him.

“Sire, are you alright?” Brendon asked.

“Yea, but, damn. What happened?”

“You passed out. The doctor said you lost too much blood.”

Grognor looked down and noticed a large bandage around Brendon’s midriff. “Looks like you got a bit of a scratch too?”

“Just a flesh wound. You, however, are lucky to be alive. You suffered several nearly fatal wounds.”

Grognor struggled to sit up, Brendon helping him. “So, we actually won?”

“Sort of. We lost a lot of good warriors.”

Grognor cringed. “How many?”

Brendon hung his head down. “Over four hundred people.”

“Damn. How many did we take out?”

“Well,
we
took out as many as thirty.”

“That’s it? Four hundred to thirty? We lost this battle, then. Damn. So many lives…”

“Yea, like I said,
we
took out as many as thirty. The Stone Children took out another two hundred or so before the Drakmids retreated.”

“Are we still calling them ‘Drakmids’?”

“We have no other word for them, so yea.”

Grognor then remembered the Stone Children. “Stone Children?”

“Yes, Sire. They come from the far northwest mountains, and say they have more friends coming, they call them the Nords.”

“I need to talk to their leader, what was his name, Bronic, or something?”

“Bruno. He’s just outside, I’ll get him.” He herded all the nurses and assistants out to give the Emperor some privacy, and then called Bruno in. “I’ll be right down the hall if you need me, Sire. There’s a lot of wounded I’ll be checking up on.”

“Wait, Brendon, could you get me a list of the leaders? We’ll need to organize.”

Brendon nodded and walked out.

The very large humanoid walked in as Brendon called him. He towered over Brendon and stooped to fit in the low ceiling of the hospital. Grognor got a good look at him and couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Bruno was easily seven feet tall, wore only minimal clothes, was very muscular, and his skin was a stone grey. He had short brown hair with narrow streaks of grey, and a thick brushy mustache. When he spoke, his voice was loud and low, but pleasant with a strange twang.

“You’re a giant!” Grognor said, remembering his mythology from childhood.

“No, Sire. We aren’t giants,” Bruno said, “we’re more like humans than anything, although we could technically be classified as a subclass of giants. But, there are no giants on this world...at this time.”

“Why is it we’re just now learning of your existence?” Grognor sat up a bit more comfortable, adjusting his I.V. tube.

“I see they’re giving you antibiotics. Good. Those creatures don’t seem to be very clean.” Bruno smiled.

“Yea, I figured that part out. How did you know about this, and why haven’t you made yourselves known before?”

“Emperor Grognor, we’re very long lived, longer even than the dragons, nearly as long as the elves. We knew of you many years before the dragons decided to intervene and…how shall I say this…direct your development. We would have preferred to let you be, to let you find your own way. However, in the end it’s good they helped.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

Bruno smiled. “We haven’t made ourselves known because you simply didn’t need us. Now, you do. We have the Nords coming as well.”

“How did you know about the battle?”

“How do you think?” Bruno smiled.

“The dragons. You sure do smile a lot.”

Bruno nodded. “I suspect it was quite a hard pill to swallow for them to ask our help. The fact that they did tells us there is a very real, very deadly threat.”

“Well, I think I can speak for everyone when I say thank you. You saved us all. If you hadn’t shown up when you did, we would have been wiped out.”

Bruno seemed a bit ashamed and bowed his head. “Sire, we should have come much sooner, and would have had it not been for my reluctance. I finally gave in to my people’s demands, and so we came. If I had given in earlier…” he drifted off.

“What’s done is done. The fact is, you
did
come, and saved us. Now, who are these Nords you spoke of?”

“They’re humans who live near us in the northwestern mountains. They’re actually very much like you, in that they are stout, muscular and very tough. Their leader reminds me of you, in fact, in a lot of ways.”

“How many come?”

“They’ll be sending three thousand.”

“That’s a lot of logistics to deal with. Food, shelter, etc. Which reminds me. Did you see the dragons on the way here?”

“The dragons? No, Sire. But, we didn’t take the River Valley road.”

“You didn’t? But…that’s the only path west.”

“Actually, no. Beyond the northern mountains in the frozen wastes is another path, one we use on a regular basis. Of course, we usually run into a white dragon or two along the way, which is a good thing.”

“How is running into dragons a
good
thing?” Grognor asked, a bit perplexed by the statement.

“Well, we have to eat!” Bruno smiled.

“Of course! How silly of me!” Grognor laughed. “So tell me, do you know the details of our impending war? Did the dragons tell you?”

“Well, yes, but…”

“What? What is it?”

“We know a bit more than what the platinum dragon told us.”

“Platinum?...oh, you mean their divine King Bahamlo?”

“Yes. You see, he thinks this is a power play from his sister, the evil Lotanna. What he doesn’t know is, she has nothing to do with any of this. There’s another creature pushing them, a creature we’re not sure of. It seems to be pushing them not just against the River Valley and Deepforge folk, but you and the citadel in particular. We don’t know why, but there’s something about Deepforge they want.”

“Ok, so them coming here for their first attack was what?”

“There must be a spy in our midst, Sire. Someone who told them you and your finest warriors were here. Either way, I think probably the best thing to do now is abandon Lake Valley, and head back toward the Deepforge citadel. There we’ll meet up with whomever the dragons have recruited and the dragons themselves. I suspect the Drakmids’ next target is Deepforge itself.”

“Well, seems we have more help in the way of leadership than I expected, and have recently discovered the humans are expert dragon slayers. I would ask of you a very important task, my new friend. We have a lot of innocents. Would you be willing to assign a detachment to help protect them?”

“Of course, Sire.”

“Excellent. Then, as soon as I get the ok to leave, we’ll get started.”

“Very good, Sire. Then, I’ll leave you to rest.”

“Wait, before you go, I’m a bit confused about something.”

“Yes, Sire?”

“How do you know so much…I mean, I know you all are long lived, but the details you told me seem impossible to know?”

“There’s a big story there, and one that I’ll have to tell you some time. But, the short story is, I’m from the future. I came from a time after the prophesy has already come to pass. Certain things, things about Lotanna and Bahamlo don’t make sense now. This points to another malevolent presence, one I’m unfamiliar with.”

“The future? The prophesy? So, it’s real?”

“Yes, Sire. It’s real. The prophesy of the Dragon King is real. I don’t know any of what happens now, so I have no particulars.”

“But you being here, wouldn’t that produce…oh, what’s that called? I learned that in Temporal Mechanics class when I was a kid…”

“A paradox.”

“Right! Wouldn’t you being here from the future produce a paradox?”

“No, as a matter of fact, I guess I’m supposed to be here. You see, my wife has had extensive experience with this sort of thing, and…well…I’m supposed to be here... I don’t really know much more than that, I’m afraid.” Bruno seemed a bit confused.

“I’ll take your word for it. So, we have to find this spy, huh?”

“Actually, I would think knowing we have one is more important than weeding him or her out. We can make that work for us.”

“You’re a wise one, Bruno.”

“Not so sure about that, but, anyway. Get some rest, I’ll go and assign the detachment you asked for.”

“Thank you, it’s much appreciated. You know of course, you’ve sparked my curiosity about how you got here in the first place.”

Bruno smiled and walked out.

Grognor rested for a few hours, and slept some. But then couldn’t take the relaxation anymore, when there was a war to plan. He saw a note left by Brendon, a list of the leaders. He glanced at the names and walked out to begin the arduous task.

Lake Valley was a horrible sight. Aside from the destruction left by the EM pulse, bodies of fallen warriors lay covered in rows, waiting for their turn for a funeral.

“Ridiculous,” Grognor said to himself, “planning funerals at a time like this.”

“You object, Sire?” an unfamiliar female voice asked.

Grognor looked to his side and saw an… attractive human warrior with bandages around her torso. She was thin but muscular, and no facial hair.

She walked up and put out her hand. “Victoria, from East Lakeshore.”

Grognor was not easily impressed, but this was a powerful looking warrior, one of the leaders who had apparently been involved in the recent battle. He recognized the armor, but had never seen her face. This was the same woman he had seen just before the games. He put out his hand to return the greeting. “Victoria, it’s good to meet you. You were in the battle?”

“Yes, of course. I led the East Lakeshore division. We were the only one not to lose anyone. We held our own and took down many Drakmids, Sire.”

“Then, you are the only division truly victorious. We simply didn’t have enough against them until the Stone Children showed up.”

“Thank goodness they did. You didn’t answer my question, Emperor. You don’t approve of funerals?”

“No, it’s not that. In times of war, it’s impractical to stage a funeral for each individual. Especially since we could have an attack again at any time.”

“Sire…with all due respect…humans need this. We need to grieve, even in times of war. It’s not weakness. It allows us to feel the loss fully, and to focus our fury when the time comes. When you and I…I mean when we fought against your people during the Battle of the Valley, our losses gave us the strength to continue on.”

“You lost that battle, young lady. How did mourning help you?”

She smiled and directed her gaze down for a moment. “We did lose, but we weren’t eliminated. We now have peace, which we would never have had if we had won that battle. I lost my husband…by your hand. You crushed his skull at the Naw-nee clearing engagement. It toughened me, and I vowed vengeance. I wanted nothing more than to tear your heart from your chest. When Brendon went rogue, I nearly joined him.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I honestly don’t know. But, I would have killed you, count on that.”

Grognor inspected her feminine but powerful form, and somehow he knew: she would have.

“Lady Victoria, you have my sympathies for what happened. It was war, as much as the dragons denied it at the time. I’m sure your husband and I would have been good friends if it hadn’t have been for the conflict.”

“Actually, it’s ‘General’ Victoria. Who knows what might have been… But, my point is, mourning for my husband made me stronger. Now, former enemies will fight side by side to defeat the Drakmids. Together, Sire. Together we will be stronger than we ever were as adversaries.”             

Grognor suddenly got a strong feeling, a combination of respect, fear, and sympathy for the woman. He couldn’t deny it. She was a fellow warrior…a human female. “General Victoria, together we will crush their worthless forms, and protect the Empire.”

She looked at him and smiled again, this time with genuine respect, through her constant need for vengeance. “Indeed we will, Sire, indeed we will.”

Grognor and Victoria spoke for hours about war, the triumphs and losses, and other things that enemies would never get a chance to talk about to each other as allies. Before the day was done, the two had become friends. Forged in the horror of death and war, their losses added up to a bond stronger than any normal citizen could fathom. A bond of warriors.

The day dragged on, and Grognor finally made his way to the games arena. Brendon, Victoria, Bruno, and several of the leaders joined him as everyone assembled to hear what he had to say.

“Citizens of Lake Valley, the Lakeshore villages. I’m not here to give you an inspirational speech. You saw what happened. We had our asses handed to us by the Drakmids. If it weren’t for the Stone Children, we wouldn’t have survived. We are eternally grateful to them.”