 
       
|
The BloodVaine EpicChapter 78: Calm Before The Storm
It was an hour past dawn, and the final march had begun. The Bulls were in the forefront, followed by the Forestmen, Wolfpack, Dark Forest, and both Knight’s Kingdoms. The Arklyndelys Vulondur floated above, it’s scarred hull casting a dark shadow over the troops, not as a threat, but as protection.
As the army creaked forward, Bjarn had left the Forestmen momentarily to talk with Barbod about assault stratagies.
“Once the Bulls are able to get behind enemy lines, they will be like a spear in the back, they’ll be fighting us from both sides!” explained Barbod.
“But they would put you and the Bulls at great risk, what if the other Allies couldn’t get to you in time?”
“Then the Bulls will fall, bringing with them many of BloodVaine’s allies with them!” Barbod roared.
Bjarn knew it was futile to argue. “As you wish, my friend. As to the archers…”
They were interupted by Aros, whose face was pale. He held forth his Pendant, babbling.
“Lo-look at it...it’s changed!”
Bjarn examined the Pendant. It had indeed changed. When the Misfits had first been together, the Pendants had no design on them, save for a silver lining. When Lord Void has used the Pendants to birth the Eroth Gamus, a dragon emblem had appeared on both sides. Now the Pendant was blank again.
“Odd...very odd...when did this happen?” Bjarn asked.
“I only just noticed it now...it could have been like that for days!”
Above them, the Arklyndelys Vulondur faulted and a ladder unfurled. Lord Void desended and made his way to Bjarn, Barbod and Aros.
“Something has happened, Bourne and Voolmark undoubtebly felt it too…” Lord Void snapped.
“The Mana has been drained again?” asked Bjarn, worried.
“No, nothing of the sort. Actually, I believe it is because of the lack of Mana that something has happened. There has been death, but not the normal death of Dragon Masters, Royals, Crusaders, Black Knights, Black Falcons, and other petty soldiers. No, someone - or something - powerful has died, something I think that will cripple BloodVaine further.”
Barbod slammed his fist into the woodwork of the chariot. “Excellent!”
Bjarn allowed himself a smile. “Then that means the Eroth Gamus is dead, take a look at this Pendant.”
Lord Void examined it briefly, then shoved it back into Aros’s hand. “I believe you are right. What I have mistakingly created has been undone. The battlefield is leveling at last, BloodVaine’s plot is coming apart at the seams…”
Near the back of the army, Jack Craft was immerced in his own thoughts.
Aye, Jack-me-lad, it’s still not too late. You deserted from a war once, and there’s still time to do it again.
And is this the same Jack Craft that just told the Green Fox it was time he stood up for something besides the passing of an ale wagon? Come to that, a firkin of ale’d not be amiss, now...
Still time to bumble off into the woods like a blown leaf, and a new job waiting in the next town. Cobbler, maybe? Nah, nah, that’s done already. Maybe an evil mage -- that seems a booming business, awful lot of them around , these days. Wonder where they get their schooling?
Stop it. You’re not going anywhere, Jack-me-lad. Ye’ve a promise to keep to Bjarn and Barbod and the Lone Falcon. Certain as rain in spring. Certain as blood from a wound.
Brix and Blox, but we’re grim today, aren’t we? And it was shaping up to be such a cheery war, wasn’t it? Keep the grin wide, Jack-me-lad-- it’ll still the chattering of your teeth.
The Fox stayed. Swap me for a barnacle, but he stayed. He’s a sword in one hand and his courage in the other, and he’s put them both in the face of the enemy. Can you do any less, Jack-me-lad? Can, have... will? Won’t. Won’t. You’ll do what you came to do Jack, which is sew as many of these lads back together as your trembling hands can manage. Bloodvaine has that bloody-thrice-cursed-Gynthaunt-box, and there’s no stopping him.
So you’ll stay and haul your pack from one bloodletting to the next and hope Jack’s Luck is enough to stay a blade or dragon blast. If bloody-blasted-brix-and-blox-Bloodvaine wins you’d have nowhere to hide, anyhow.
This is just the sort of stupidly brave thing you tell your grandkids about. Aye, I’ll have to borrow some, sometime…
doctora borracha desnuda Frayla was dreaming. Dreaming of her mother, her Father. Sudenly they both disapeared and a horrid face of evil intent appeared clouding all else and terrifing her. She awoke with a start. What was happening to her?
After her mother and father had disapeared she hadn’t had much of a good night’s rest. She got up and looked up at the stars. Somewhere her mother was out there, and she was going to find her.
Reno marched along side Barbod the Bull King and Bjarn the Forestmen leader. Dorodot stood near, as did some more people. The army was grand, and looked strong. It was nearing morning, yet was still dark. The flickering lights of Orion and the Yellow Castle loomed into the distance.
Renos mind shifted back to Shainya. What if he never saw her again?
Don’t be stupid, Reno thought to himself.
Reno…embrace your fate... A terrible slicing noise caused Reno to clutch himself.
“You all right, lad?” Barbod asked.
“Yes…yes…" Reno said, but he was clearly shaken.
Del Grakken was already at Orion, he had speedily marched night and day to reach his destination. The whole city of Orion was soon to be a battle site. The streets were empty, and the wind unhindered.
BloodVaine opened his eyes, and pulled out his mansemune. The Mana flow had been drained, he could not use his sorcerers might to over come the army. His mansemune had to do the job. Del Grakken and his generals aranged the army, and well aranged it was. With dragon masters stationed in the castle as well as the city, they were like a stone wall.
“Send out a small wave, Del Grakken.” BloodVaine spat.
Gereld Vos hugged the reins of his sable horse and held up his black shield defensively. Behind him, a standard bearer steadied the ebony banner of the Dark Forest.
“Bjarn, where is Radjar and the others? If they do not arrive soon, the demon will have killed us all.”
“Vos, I may not be a superb strategist…” Bjarn went on, “But I know that we can hold out till they arrive. If we do not...then we will die gallantly.”
The Yellow Castle loomed over the rest of the grandiose city in the distance, shadowing the Cavalier legions that stood under its greatness. A Forestman messenger, designated by a black collar and plume, rode up to Bjarn non-chalantly, and promptly delivered his information.
“Lord Bjarn, there has been a Cross Knight army, predominantly mounted knights, advancing to the south under Duke Lucius Van DeMorte. We believe they are en route to our postion at this moment.”
Bjarn swore loudly. “Tycoed shifty-brick megabloks... Gereld, we have little time. Alert Willem emmediately!”
Gereld rode hard to Willem’s postion at the left flank. The battle for Orion’s Gate had begun.
| Previous Chapter | Next Chapter |
|
|
