Lit.Org - a community for readers and writers Advanced Search
 




Average Rating
0.00

(0 votes)

You must login to vote

The figure watched the devious scheme unravel in front of him. The Great Kingdom’s army opened up with blasts of fire and ice. Mages disguised as ordinary soldiers casted spells and unleashed powerful wands upon the defenders of Safehaven. At the same time, various aerial battalions appeared from the sky to the right and rained down arrows and bolts of lightning.

Screams of pain rang in his ears as the commanders tried to keep order and hold the line as mounted cavalry charged the line.

Archers along walls fired, and many hit their targets; but just as many missed and the two armies clashed in a screech of steel.

The mage gasped as he saw another twist, a small group of giants holding mithral shields rushed the walls. They ran through the defenders like a stampede of wild boar. The fifteen foot tall beasts bashed anything in their way as they approached the gates with surprising speed. With his experienced eye he saw multiple protective auras of magic surrounding the beasts.

Soon, the defenders closed in around the invaders as they reached the wall. In one last suicidal move, two giants took jars of some liquid from their belts and threw it against the magically enhanced stone. In protest, a smoky mist erupted as the acid-like liquid ate away at the wall.

Cries of defiance rang out as Safehaven soldiers cut down the giants; but the damage was done. The wall began to crumble as the hole became larger. Archers on the wall protested as they fell to their death. Talor watched in horror as Safehaven, his beloved city, fell.

Talor snapped out of his vision. His second in command, Layva, watched intently. The female had long blonde hair tied into a knot and wore elven chainmail.

Her green eyes looked at him expectantly, “Well?”

Talor looked around at the battlefield, as it all began to happen again. The enemy began their advance.

“Tell the commanders to ready their spell shields, at once! Fire and ice first, and then lightning from above! With all haste!” he yelled as he adjusted his simple looking helmet and wiped his brow.

Layva nodded and grasped the bracelet on her left arm. “Spell shields! Fire, lightning, and ice! Tell your mages to hurry!”

The message went out to the commanders on the field. Talor looked at the battlefield again. The aerial mounts!

“Layva! Send word to Andarious quickly! We need his griffon knights! Two groups, one to circle around and come from the left, behind the aerial soldiers on their way as we speak,” he quickly stood up and nodded in relief as he saw shimmering shields pop up around the squads of soldiers.

Layva relayed the message and her green eyes met his brown ones. “What of the second group?”

He bit his lip, “Giants. With Mithral shields enchanted with defensive spells. They are teleported almost to the walls. If they make it the city will fall.”

The blonde female gasped and gripped the lance she held in her right hand. She gritted her teeth and nodded with a grim demeanor.

“It’s already starting! Get word to Korrin himself!” Talor yelled. He bit his lip again and thought of his superior. How had Korrin talked Talor into this position? He was a mage of course, but not the kind of battle mage that the legendary Bladesinger expected him to be. He would much rather be in the library doing research, but without him and the other generals Korrin appointed, Safehaven would fall. He would not let that happen!

The mage scrambled to find the right spell components in his robe. In the distance, he could hear yells of triumph from the defenders of Safehaven as spell after spell was deflected by powerful defensive wards.

The wind blew his robe back and carried with it the sounds of griffon and pegasi. Finally finding the right ingredient, he watched as the giants appeared in a vulnerable spot.

He started casting in earnest, trying to finish before the giants got too close. Almost botching the spell because of his fear, the arcane words tumbled from his mouth like a waterfall unleashed. With a cry of triumph, he extended his arms towards the lead giant, encompassing the small group.

Suddenly, the fifteen foot beasts looked around stupidly as each of them lost their grips on their shields. Belt buckles and straps came undone, and more than one giant’s pants fell down.

With a deafening roar, Andarious’s griffon knights swept by in a blinding pass, spearing the stupid creatures behind their lines. The survivors were then engulfed by swordsmen.

Talor only heard the aerial combat, but was comforted by the familar sounds of the legendary white griffon riders. He wiped his brow and allowed himself a toothy grin.

His face became nervous again as he watched the army start to advance. “Archers!” he motioned to Layva and she relayed the command through her bracelet. He heard the command repeated loudly as the commander’s gave the order.

Archers along the great wall of Safehaven fired at will. The enemy cavalry kept charging, and then the battalions of archers on the battlefield began shooting as well.

The charge broke, and the survivors reared their mounts around and began to retreat. Shouts and hollers followed the enemy as well as quite a few arrows.

“Impressive spell,” Layva rolled her eyes.

Feeling quite proud of himself, Talor nodded and grinned. It was the quickest thing he could come up with. He would have to tell Eliwood the new spell worked. The general giggled to himself remembering the ranger mage explaining
the concept to him. What an ingenious spell indeed!

The Great Kingdom’s army retreated and more shouts of inspiration filled his ears. My city is safe! Korrin will be proud he thought to himself and smiled.

Layva broke him out of his contemplation. “General Talor, the other generals have all met with victory as well. All four armies have retreated and Korrin expects they will be replaced and refreshed within a tenday.”

Talor nodded. A tenday? That’s it?

The pale skinned human shook his head, “How long can we continue this? Standing alone against four armies is mad!”

Layva nodded in agreement. “Korrin will see us through this ordeal. I believe in him and in our cause. Pholtus will guide us to the light.”

The mage rolled his eyes at Layva’s silly faith. He much preferred tapping into the power of the weave, the arcane energy that surrounded them all; to relying on the power of a fickle god.

“I have faith in Korrin as well. Imagine how doomed we would be if not for him taking control?”

“Indeed. Many have talked about him appointing a new mayor and Korrin becoming the first king of Safehaven. I hope the guilds support him; it’s hard to tell with those damn merchants. They have their hands in everything!”

Talor laughed. Wasn’t that the truth? Korrin could only arise to king if the people wanted him. Safehaven had always been governed by a mayor and a council. The legendary Bladesinger couldn’t fortify the city of Safehaven against the armies of Talamius just being the mayor. The free city of Safehaven was changing and growing, would everyone agree that city become more? A kingdom like Thann?

The mage’s blue robes blew in the wind again.

“Come,” his second in command gestured.

He looked to her green eyes and a small shiver of excitement and hope filled him as the bright sun revealed her curvy figure. Shaking off his hopeless dreams, he fixed his thoughts on reporting to his fellow generals; men much more fit to take on the title than himself.

He stalked off ahead towards the gates and left Layva watching him with a questioning stare.

* *

Hordes of straggling zombies surrounded him and blocked his vision. The elven warrior danced around in a blur of white stabbing and slashing his way through. Tyrelax swept across horizontally and a moaning undead creature fell backward. Spell Mist reached left and lopped off the fingers of a grasping hand.

Two hands scratched against the back of his Zodar armor but couldn’t find a hold on the polished material. He leaped forward and double slashed diagonally dropping another foe. The warrior spun; Tyrelax and Spell Mist twirled around just in time to keep scratching claws at bay. The ever sharp bluish-black blade of Tyrelax removed another hand and Spell Mist spun in front of him to keep the foes back.

A blood curdling scream chilled him to the bone. Another voice screamed in pain through gritted teeth. Tyrael kicked out with a plated boot and the white eyes of a zombie protested as it fell. The cavalier spun again facing his original direction and ran forward through the grassy field, dodging one reaching arm after another.

Tyrael raced forward and his blades slashed in an “x,” creating a clear path. To his horror, he scanned the area and froze. To his left was Cylvannia Winterstorm surrounded by three skeleton warriors who were lit by the soft glow of the moonlight. He observed a nasty gash along her arm that dripped crimson.

On his right was Korrin, his blue robes flapped in the wind as he struggled. The Bladesinger’s arm was caught between the jaws of an enormous dragon. It’s skin was leathery and decaying, much of it was just bones and flapping dead skin. The eye sockets held no organs, just yellow glowing lights. The wings of the undead monster extended outward and dwarfed everything in its shadow.

The jaws of the dragon were snapped shut around the elf while his flaming sword bashed into the skull of the wurm. Tyrael froze as his feet began to feel like lead and he couldn’t move. He watched as Cylvannia unleashed a blast of sunlight from her hand, obliterating a skeleton warrior; it’s remains scattered into the wind. She danced away from a spear but the other skeleton lashed out with a rusty sword, slicing across her shapely back ripping her white robe to shreds.

The wind behind him carried with it the moans and groans of undead creatures. His breath escaped him as he realized he would have to choose between which friend to help. His helmet suffocated him but there was no time to remove it. Before he could take a step, the claws of a zombie raked his shoulder and back.

Tyrael suddenly jumped awake with his own cry of pain ringing in his pointed ears. The drapes were drawn, keeping the room engulfed in complete darkness. The king shivered and found he was covered in a cold sweat. Tyrael tried to control his heavy breathing and tore the covers off of him; leaving him in just a pair of cotton leggings.

He turned and set his feet on the floor as his eyes adjusted to the darkness and switched from the normal spectrum of light to infravision. His bedchambers were exactly as they were when he had fallen asleep.

Tyrael put his hands on his knees as his breathing returned to normal. He realized that he would have enjoyed Cylvannia’s company tonight but she wasn’t here. He sighed.

Why did that memory surface?

The king could only wonder as he pondered how he had slipped from his reverie; the trance like state of rest for elves, and actually fell asleep. It was something that elves rarely did, if at all. Reality seemed to be slipping away from him as he slowly recalled the endless tests his deity put him through.

Am I losing my mind?


------
Havoc


Related Items

Comments

The following comments are for "Blades of Destiny6"
by HavocTheDemon

Another Great One
I miss these Rodney, where you been buddy?

( Posted by: HeRoCoMpLeX [Member] On: January 1, 2012 )





Add Your Comment

You Must be a member to post comments and ratings. If you are NOT already a member, signup now it only takes a few seconds!

All Fields are required

Commenting Guidelines:
  • All comments must be about the writing. Non-related comments will be deleted.
  • Flaming, derogatory or messages attacking other members well be deleted.
  • Adult/Sexual comments or messages will be deleted.
  • All subjects MUST be PG. No cursing in subjects.
  • All comments must follow the sites posting guidelines.
The purpose of commenting on Lit.Org is to help writers improve their writing. Please post constructive feedback to help the author improve their work.


Username:
Password:
Subject:
Comment:





Login:
Password: