FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

21stDay of Ignis

128thI.E.

After only a week to rest and recuperate in the ruins of Albrand following the complete destruction of the Olaraan republic, Xellik and his army began their march north towards Sanctuary. This time he planned to lead the initial charge against the enemy. He wanted to experience the thrill of a real battle first hand this time.

"How is the armor treating you?" Napir asked as he walked alongside Xellik. It'd been the first time the warlord had worn his new set of equipment, and though he wouldn't admit to it, the armor was rather uncomfortable and cumbersome. The gauntlets were awkward to use and to cast magic in, but he managed fine after some training.

"Fits fine," he replied shortly.

The ground thundered behind them as the remains of the Giantish forces, those that had not routed and cowardly fled back to Rhavik, marched with them. Many of the ogres had remained with them, as had all the minotaur and about half of the Darkpaw gnolls that had survived the conquest of Olaraa.

They should all be marching here with the rest of the Legion, to further guarantee our victory, Xellik thought. The gnolls had opted to leave a number of their people behind in both Xenaria and Olaraa to keep the nations occupied. While Xellik was grateful that someone would be watching their backs to make sure the Coalition couldn't flank the Legion from behind, he didn't like the idea of splitting his army any more than he already had. There were already other plans he had in motion that required his full attention as he marched north.

Xellik looked to his left, to see Fippy marching with him. "I'm surprised you and your people are willing to keep going," he said.

"I want to kill that stupid bear," Fippy snarled. "I want to end him and the rest of his disgusting race!"

"Revenge?"

"Precisely."

"Warlord," Greenix hissed from somewhere nearby. The orc looked around and found the gnoll emissary hunched over as he walked. "I wish to join the assault on Sanctuary."

"Why? You are no warrior, Greenix," Xellik sneered.

"I too have a grudge to settle, and like my brother, I have certain gifts that would aid in the bear's defeat." Greenix looked up to his brother, Fippy. "I want to end that bear's life for taking father's. I can still hold a sword, and I swear on my life that, in the way of my father, I shall slay them all."

"Bold words coming from someone who prefers the company of shadows," Fippy laughed as he ruffled his little brother's head fur. "What're you going to do? Talk them to death with all that knowledge of yours?"

Greenix swatted Fippy's hand away. "I've got a pair of daggers, that's all I need," he told Xellik. "I don't need armor. It weighs me down. Just give me a chance."

Fippy loosed a cackling laugh, startling several others nearby. "He will kill you, pup. And then I'll be the unopposed leader of the Darkpaw. Are you okay with that?"

"Better than doing nothing and letting you dispose of him!" Greenix said, growling low in his throat.

"Fine by me," Xellik replied. "If you want to throw your life away, be my guest."

Greenix was never a fighter. He'd not participated in any of the battles, and in fact when he expressed his desire to accompany the Legion on their conquest of Olaraa, Xellik had been surprised. The gnoll never got in the way of anything, but he didn't help out either. Greenix had no experience wielding a weapon as far as Xellik had seen, nor did he have any skills beyond his knowledge of his people's history.

If he gets himself killed, then that's one less leech in my army that I have to deal with, Xellik thought.

The orc warlord looked up to the sky. It was partly clouded over, and long shadows blanketed the Southern Kelial Plains. The scouts that Xellik had sent up ahead reported sighting Sanctuary not far ahead, and they expected to be able to launch their assault against the neutral nation by night fall.

We'll need to be careful. With Olaraa backing Sanctuary, this fight could be bloodier than the last one. However, there's still my auxiliary plan already in motion. Soon Grashal will be finished and we can launch our campaign against Kitair.

* * * * *

It was dusk when Sanctuary's forward scouts had reported sightings of the Shadow Legion marching across the southern Kelial Plains towards Sanctuary. The outlying settlements had been evacuated weeks in advance when the Olaraan refugees fled through the area. Now all that stood between the Legion and control of Sanctuary were the scattered remnants of once prosperous towns and farmlands. They would be in bombardment range within the hour at the pace they were marching, and unfortunately, all attempts to communicate or parlay with the enemy forces had ended in failure. The enemy's leaders, whoever they were, were not going to listen to reason.

The Shadow Legion had to be stopped in its tracks before it overtook the whole of Muriaj. That was the determination that Dane had set in his mind, and had told his troops during their briefing. The grim-faced soldiers who were going to be fighting to defend Sanctuary looked weary, as if that burden alone sapped their strength.

The city was alive with activity, but not with the usual bustle of shouting merchants hawking their wears, or of young children laughing as they ran down the streets. Rather, the streets were full of marching troops, the clatter of metal ringing high in the air as they headed for the southern gates. The Rogarian and Kitairan Waygates had been periodically spitting out reinforcements as often as the magical portals would allow, and the forces occupying the city were now triple their original size. Dane noted that many of the reinforcements were elves from Kitair, rather than from Rogust. He wondered why the Empire wasn't sending more soldiers, but he didn't have time to think too long about it.

Inside the Rogarian Barracks, Digran was overseeing everything his men were doing and was going over it with a fine tooth comb.

Such a waste of time and effort, Dane thought, scowling to himself after the last time Digran had poked his head into the room to check up on him. We're soldiers and we know our job well enough without your constant, nagging reminders. We don't need a sitter, you corpulent ogre.

Dane was being more diligent than quick when it came to suiting up for this battle. It was no mere skirmish, like the kind he was used to. This was war, a fight between tens of thousands of beings locked in a squirming, screaming mass of blood and steel. He decided he would take everything he could that would not weigh him down. The blue and white military issue tunic he normally wore over his chain mail armor was left hanging up. His spell book was left on his desk, as there would be no need for it tonight. If he didn't already know the inside and out of that book by now, it would be his fault if he fell in battle.

There was one item in his possession that he considered with some hesitation. The jade bear claw pendent he had purchased in Tran during the village's last Harvest Festival. He remembered that Professor Talia saying it was magical, but Dane had never felt very much power coming from the pendent.

Talia is more in tune with magic than you are, he told himself, not to mention the fact you couldn't get the magic of your bracers to work until a few weeks ago, at least not willingly. He picked it up from his dresser and put it on, slipping the stone beneath the ring mail. It didn't get in the way, nor was it heavy, so whether or not it did anything would not matter; soon he would forget it was even there.

The last thing Dane did was pick up his helm and chain mail gorget. He'd rarely worn these pieces of equipment, and they were still as shiny as they were on the day he received them. He'd been in plenty of fights before, but he had to admit the fight with Oni was the biggest and most fierce one he'd ever been in. Dane remembered what had happened to Aiden, and knew that even if he was surrounded by allies, he would need to look out for himself. Even if the helm muffled his hearing, and the gorget made turning his head a bit more difficult, he'd wear it.

With that done, Dane strapped his sword to his belt and knelt down to check that his boots were secure. As he stood, he caught a reflection of himself in his window. Dane looked every part the soldier he was trained to be. Something was missing though, and he could not place it.

The door opened and Roweon stepped in, clothed similarly to him but choosing to wear steel plate armor and carrying a shield. "Almost ready, Lieutenant?" he asked.

"No," he admitted. He was mentally unprepared for what was about to come their way. "But I'll have to deal with it," he added after a short pause.

I've been wanting to use my gifts to help people, but I never thought I'd have to fight a war to do it.

"Maybe this will help make you feel better." Roweon produced a bow and quiver that he'd been hiding behind his back and held them out to Dane with outstretched arms. Even at a glance, they were nothing special. The bow's wood was marred and scratched in many different places, and the fletchings on the arrows were frayed. The equipment had seen better days. They'd likely been sitting in the armory for a long time.

Dane eyed the bow and hesitated. "Why?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Roweon replied. "Your surname is Trueshot. I figured you could use a bow."

"I haven't touched one since before my father died," Dane said without thinking. He mentally smacked himself for blurting it out. He hated bringing up his father's death. It always made people want to pity him, and tell them how sorry they were for his loss.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't realize it was a sore spot," Roweon muttered and put his hands down.

With a sigh, Dane stepped forward and took the bow and quiver from the man. "Don't apologize. It's fine." He drew an arrow and nocked it. Without taking the time to aim properly, he fired it at a knot in his desk and hit it only a couple centimeters from the center.

"Nice shot."

Dane shrugged. "My father always made me carry the bow when we went hunting, and made me take care of it." He glanced at the arrow embedded in the desk. "I guess I haven't lost any of my skill, though I was never as good as him." He slung the quiver and the bow over his shoulders. "I'll take it. Maybe I'll need it." He paused and looked at Roweon. The man seemed gripped by a sudden, painful sensation and was holding his head. "Are you alright?"

"Ah, no... happens sometimes when I, uh, get stressed," he said through clenched teeth. He then stood up and the pain seemed to have subsided. He smiled weakly at Dane. "It's... it's gone now. So, are we ready to go?"

"No, but let's go anyways."

That was strange, Dane thought. He'd never seen the man suffer from pain like that, and it worried him. At the same time though, he knew that he hadn't really been paying much attention to Roweon and they were never together all the time. Once this was over, perhaps he'd coax Roweon into talking to a healer about the pain.

As they headed out, Dane spotted the mithril staff leaning against the wall next to the door. Ever since the journey out to Northpine, he'd been carrying it along with him wherever he went. He'd never even used it before. He grabbed it before he shut the door behind him. It wasn't a focus for magic, nor was it magical beyond whatever properties the mithril itself held, but it was another weapon that Dane could use if he lost his sword.

* * * * *

And so it begins again, Arion thought as he stood in front of his students, in front of his entire Order of Peacekeepers. They'd been through this song and dance before, and they knew what lay ahead of them. They also understood what was at stake, the countless lives that depended on them and the rest of the defense force to hold the Shadow Legion at bay. There was no need for a speech or a pep-talk. Everyone knew their role in the coming conflict and what was expected of them.

He looked over and met Marida's stare. He could see only fire in her eyes, born of her anger towards him. Shaking his head, Arion looked away. Why did she so openly oppose someone with his abilities? It defied all logic.

The monk would keep it simple. "I know you are all weary from the repeated battles and the retreat here, but we need to push on just a bit longer. This is bigger than ourselves. Bigger than Xenaria. Bigger than even Olaraa. This is about protecting what we have left, so we can live another day to reclaim what was ours." Arion paused, and looked over the faces of everyone around him, committing each one of them to memory. "Please, don't die." He pressed a fist to the palm of his hand and bowed low. His students returned the gesture and began filing out of the Olaraan barracks, in a calm yet determined matter.

How many of them will die in the opening conflict? Arion wondered idly, and he felt saddened by such a thought. He was sending his students off to die for his sake, just as he had done a decade ago when he first left for Olaraa. How much longer must I continue to sin like this? No, I must not think that way. If I am truly determined to repent, then I need to protect as many ursar as I can. That is my duty and my calling.

Arion spun around and headed back into the Olaraan barracks to look for Gantors and Helga. He knew they were likely speaking with Gryph on the top floor, and he decided to head there first. His assumption proved correct when he saw Gryph and Gantors speaking over a map on the man's desk, while Helga watched from off to the side.

"...assuming that arse Digran cooperates. Th' man is as stubborn as an ill tempered horse." Gryph said.

The other dwarf nodded. "I see what ye mean. However, are ye sure that the man's officers are more reliable?"

"Aye, positive. That Trueshot lad's been workin' hard since he arrived."

Arion quietly padded over to where Helga was standing. He leaned forward and asked, "What're they talking about? It's a bit late for battle plans, isn't it?"

"Aye, it is. Just review," Helga replied. "With all the reinforcements from Kitair and Rogust, we need to be sure we're all in the right places before we deploy."

Arion nodded his understanding and stood watching while the dwarven commanders finished up their discussion. Gantors was suited up and ready to go, and Gryph also wore a similar set of armor, colored silver that contrasted well with Gantors' own set. Had it not been for the differing colors in hair and armor, Arion would've sworn they were brothers.

"There be nothing more we can do here. Let's go," Gryph said and was the first up to go.

Unlike the other commanders who had chosen to stay back, observe, and delegate orders, Gryph was going to the front lines. Arion sympathized with him, being that just like the dwarf, his people had lost their home and they had no where else to run. The other commanding officers didn't understand what the dwarves and ursar felt when their homes had been conquered.

"Right behind ye, Commander." Gantors slapped on his helm at the same time as Gryph.

"Come back to me safe and sound," Helga whispered to her husband and kissed him on the cheek. "I don't want to see you back here in the medic's tents unless its in one piece."

"Aye, I promise." Gantors replied. He turned to Arion. "Ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be."

* * * * *

"Engineers, load the catapults!" King Edward shouted above the din of murmurs coming from the gathered soldiers around him. Everyone waited with baited breath. From a distance they could hear the thrum of the Legion's war chants echoing across the plains. Soldiers wanted to turn and run, to get away, but most knew that if Sanctuary was lost, there would be no where else to run, especially with the majority of the Coalition's forces gathered there.

Edward brought his sword up and swung it in the direction of the Legion's army. "Take aim, and fire!"

Dane watched as the flaming spheres of molten fire screeched across the sky and exploded in the fields before him. He was glad to see that his idea of using mage fire was as effective as he'd imagined it would be.

How long until this Shadow Legion adapts to it, though?

Dane was leading the Rogarian portion of the forces. Digran was no where to be found, and Dane suspected the coward was sitting some distance away, probably in the safety of the barracks and watching the battle unfold from a window.

These are the sorts of men I should be following. I should be with Gryph or Yalthros, Dane thought as he slapped his helm in place and turned it to adjust so he could see better. Those are the kinds of leaders that care for their people, for their honor, and for the good of their countries.

"Lieutenant Trueshot," Elizabeth said as she stepped up next to him. "It has been an honor to serve alongside you."

Dane scoffed. "Can the formalities and that tired old cliché," he said, turning to give her a weak smile. "I'm Dane, Elizabeth. We fight and die as peers, as human beings. In the end," he unsheathed his sword, "that's all we really are right? Lieutenant, Sergeant, Commander, or even a King, it doesn't matter. We're all the same out on the battlefield."

Elizabeth nodded, her helm clinking against her pauldrons as she moved. "Of course, Dane." She drew her sword and stood ready to face whatever was coming. "For Rogust!" she shouted, and numerous soldiers joined in with her cries.

With a glance behind him, Dane took a look at Roweon, the man he'd grown to consider a friend despite his earlier animosity. More than a friend, he corrected. He was in the back, standing with the rest of the archers. He mouthed the words "Don't die" and Roweon nodded back his understanding.

Despite the bombardment from their catapults, the enemy still marched towards them, closing the distance until they could charge and begin the fight. Soon they would be in range of the archers, and hopefully that would thin their numbers more.

There was a loud thunk as the enemy fired their own siege weapons, and Edward shouted, "Countermeasures!"

Unlike at the battle in Olaraa, the dwarves had come prepared to fight back against the enemy's siege weapons. Along with the help from the elves, they focused their magic on destroying the stones before they even got close to hitting the allied forces. Dane offered a hand as well, calling down lightning that shattered the rocks into smaller pieces.

"Archers take aim!" Edward could be heard calling over the army before him. The groan of wood and cranks as bows and crossbows were loaded filled the air as hundreds of soldiers took aim. "Mages, line of fire!" Dane and countless other sorcerers raised their hands and called up as much mana they could spare, creating a wall of fire over the back-line, harmlessly hanging in midair where no one could touch it. Still, the enemy drew closer, and made no attempts to move out of the way.

"Fire at will!"

Hundreds of arrows filled the air, and as they passed through the flame wall, they ignited and carried a stream of fire across the fields.

Something is wrong, Dane thought as he could sense the tell-tale changes in the flow of mana that indicated magic was being worked.

Their hopes of preemptively thinning the Legion's numbers were quickly dashed as a wall of ice exploded up from the ground and blocked every arrow shot. When the ranged assault slowed, and eventually came to a complete halt, the wall cracked noisily and shattered into millions of glittering shards. The field was now covered in a fine mist and the Freedom Coalition's forces couldn't pinpoint the enemy's movements any longer. From out of the glittering cloud stepped the Shadow Legion's army, marching at full speed, unharmed.

"Continue firing!" Edward shouted and drew his claymore. He stepped forward to the front lines, and Dane was overcome by a sense of admiration for the man. Chances were that he would be one of the first to die as a reward for his bravery, and yet he strode to the front lines with his weapon readied, prepared to defend his people. He raised his claymore in the air with a single hand, and it stood up straight without wavering an inch, despite how heavy it appeared. "To arms, my brothers!"

The defense force charged forward with yells. Some shouted battle cries for Rogust or Olaraa or Kitair, but it didn't matter where they came from. Every single member of the Coalition forces was in this to defend their homelands and to defeat a common enemy.

As Dane and his men drew closer, his nose wrinkled as he picked up on a putrid stench coming from the enemy's ranks. He spied a number of undead shambling amongst the Legion's forces, all of them dwarves!

They raised Olaraa's dead to fight for them!?

A call rose up over the battle-field, and Dane recognized the voice as Highlord Glowinglight's. "Lightweavers, switch t' anti-undead tactics. Don't let 'em raise anymore o' our dead! Return to yer slumber, dead of Olaraa!"

A beam of light shot out across the field, penetrating the enemies forces and disintegrating any of the undead that were caught in the line of fire. Another explosion of light came from Dane's left as more Paladins worked their magic to expulse the abominations.

Gantors brought his gauntlet near his mouth again and said, "Send out the cavalry!"

Elsewhere in the battlefield, Arion and Sionache led the Peacekeepers into the fray. There was no longer any peaceful sentiments among the ursar, but they hadn't turned to revenge, either. Now they were fighting to defend those most dear to them. They had been backed into a corner, and they were fighting with all the ferocity of a cornered animal.

Claws raked at flesh. Staves bludgeoned opponents, cracking or denting helms in the process.

"Master Arion!" Sionache called out as she reached with her telekinesis to pull off a flanking mercenary off the monk's back. With all her might, she flipped the man over and flung up into the charging Legion soldiers.

Arion thanked her, and continued his grizzly work as he mauled his foes. He could hear the wails of hundreds of people crying out simultaneously in his mind, and they only spurred him on. He wanted to put an end to the conflict, and there was only one way for him to do it.

Pacifism has failed, Arion thought as his claws flashed out and sliced open the neck of a minotaur. This enemy cannot be reasoned with, and to not kill them would only give them that many more opportunities to murder our kin. He spun around and got behind an orc's back. Both his hands came up and he gripped the being's head.

"I'm sorry," Arion half-whispered, half-snarled as he twisted, and felt the crack and pop of the orc's neck as the body went limp.

With an exertion of his telekinesis, Arion reached with his claws, grabbing a man as he dug into the flesh on his neck. He then hefted the man up and slammed him down on an orc, hearing the crack of bones as he did. There was too much at stake for him to hold back and to fight how he'd been trained. He couldn't risk the Legion entering Sanctuary. He couldn't risk them getting near his family.

"There you are, BEAR!!" a voice rang out across the field. Arion sensed the presence of his attacker before he saw it. From behind, a shaggy, spotted gnoll appeared behind him, brandishing a pair of daggers with several more sheathed at different points on his body.

Arion received several lightning fast cuts along his arms and chest before he could bring up a barrier to shield himself. The gnoll had somehow found a way to get past his telepathy and get close to him, and now he was forced onto the defensive. When he swung his fist around and sheathed it in a barrier, the gnoll parried with a dagger then darted around behind him to slice his legs.

Arion bellowed as he toppled over. He could no longer move his right leg.

How can he move through the shadows like that?

"Master! Hold on, we're coming!" Shinn shouted. Behind him was Rei and Asuran, all charging to help their teacher.

But before Arion could do anything, the gnoll vanished into a puff of black smoke. There was no sound and no warning for when the gnoll reappeared over him. Arion managed to get a barrier up this time as the dog-man assaulted him from all directions.

"In the way of my father, Traanix Sabertooth, I will slay you all!" the gnoll shouted before vanishing again.

He reappeared behind Rei and brought a knife up to slice the girl's throat with one dagger as the other one found a cozy home between her lower ribs. Rei didn't even have time to gasp as the gnoll twisted the blade then vanished again.

"REI!!" Shinn shouted.

Arion was trying to stand up and hobble over to Rei. He called out to Shinn, ordering him to stop, but the faster ursar took off and was chasing after the ghostly gnoll.

"How dare you!?" Shinn shouted as he kept an even pace with the gnoll.

"Shinn, stop!" Arion called out. He crawled over to Rei's side as Asuran protected him and the prone girl. He ran his hands over the girl's hair and could feel the lack of a heart beat beneath his paw pads. She had already expired.

Arion looked up to watch Shinn trying to catch the gnoll that had stabbed Rei. In his fit, he managed to take down a pair of orcs trying to stop him, and stole one of their claymores to use.

"Shinn, back off! He's too much for you!" Arion called. He looked to Asuran and said, "You need to stop him!"

"Someone needs to protect you, Master. We need to get you to a healer."

Arion looked around, trying to find another Peacekeeper in range to go pull Shinn away. He put pressure onto his leg and tried to stand up but groaned as he fell down and landed on his elbow. All he could do was watch the reckless youth cut through the Legion forces with the stolen weapon, a weapon that he should have never known how to use.

Shinn ran with the sword dragging along the ground behind him. The gnoll was deftly avoiding each of the ursar's reckless swings. Whenever another Legion soldier got in the way, Shinn brought the sword around and sliced them in two, putting all his natural might into the swing.

"All I have to do is kill you!!" Shinn shouted.

"Try it cub. I'll destroy you!" spat the gnoll.

Shinn brought the sword around to strike the gnoll but he vanished in a cloud of smoke. Expecting the move, Shinn released his grip on the weapon and elbowed the gnoll in the stomach as he reappeared behind him.

"Take this, dog!" With the dog-man stunned, Shinn was able to turn around, bring the claymore forward, and ram the blade through the gnoll's midsection.

Though the gnoll was taken by surprise as the sword came out his back, he did manage to bring the daggers in his hands around so he could drive them into Shinn's chest.

"Shinn!" Arion shouted, struggling to get up. Hannen had finally caught up to him and was helping his teacher to his feet. "No, let go, I need to help Shinn!"

"Master, he's gone," Hannen said flatly. "We need to get you to a healer before it becomes impossible to restore your leg."

Shinn's voice entered Arion's mind as his soul left his body. <I got him, Master... I've avenged Rei. I just wish I could've told Sionache... that I...>

All Arion could do as he was being dragged back to the medic tents was watch as Shinn and the gnoll assassin slumped over, their bodies supporting each other and keeping them from falling over, locked in an eternal struggle.