Chapter 6 -- Temple of Penultimate Flame

Behind us marched 11 complete battalions of flame berserkers and raiders and one elite group of rock hurlers. All total over 1200 men. Ahead of us lay the Great Temple of Penultimate Flame. Behind us a trail of blood, pillaging and rapine. Ahead of us, victory? A hot dry wind blew my hair back as we road over a dune with the army in train. The land of flames had not seen such an army for generations. The greater part of the land of neverending sun was pillaged to pay for it. Petty lords, estates which divided the land all were brought to heel and plundered by the new "Great" Daeme. "Must we have hired so many mercenaries, Azzhirr?," I asked. Her reply was quick. "You have always thought me as overzealous, Wildezword. We don't know what we'll be facing in the Temple. Life is not a game that can be replayed if a mistake is made." she snapped, "Better to overprepare." I sighed. We have had this conversation before. It was not her logic which I argued against, but how she was intending to use the men in battle. Azzhirr was bankrupting herself to pay for this campaign, but all knew a fortune lay inside the Temple. A fortune she did not intend to share with the mercenaries. They would all die. Azzhirr would see to it. I looked back over the rows upon rows of warriors and shook my head. What did it matter? All the rumors agreed that a powerful dark elf necromancer lived within the Temple. Noone had lived to know for certain. Azzhirr had found a scroll of potent Fury Fire magic in one of our earlier conquests. She was excited about it and said it would win us this battle. Yes, I can imagine. The magical battle between the two would likely kill half of these men. With the setting sun in front of us, we rounded over another dune and entered the Temple grounds. The size of the structure can not even begin to be fathomed as my eyes traced one of the four spires into the clouds. The Great Temple could hold ten such armies as ours easily; built by a mythical race of Fire Giants that passed away a long time ago. Legend says they stood in statures so immense as to be Giants to giants, as giants were to men. "What is this?!," exclaimed Azzhirr,"The Flame Gate is never open!" Shocked out of my reverie. I followed Azzhirr's gaze to the Temple. Two immense bronze doors were swung outward. Darkness lay beyond. A dull, booming voice drifted over us. "The vile death mage is choosing his battles, O' Great Daeme." It was the mercenary captain. So, the hulking brute wasn't an idiot after all. Azzhirr had done well to select him as her Leader of a Thousand. The same thought had occurred to me. Azzhirr visibly paled. It had been her plan that the death mage's host meet her at the Flame Gate where the confined spaces would allow her to wield her deadly flames to great effect. Apparantly, this necromancer knew something of fire magic. I could see Azzhirr was thinking the same thing. Unfortunately, she knew nothing of Black Magic. None of us did. I let out a heavy breath. The death mage was waiting for us. For once, I was glad of Azzhirr's over preparedness. Azzhirr suddenly spoke,"It doesn't matter. We will still attack at dawn. The Sun at our backs will strengthen us and blind our enemies." Azzhirr's fierce eyes met mine briefly and she looked away. She is not as sure of herself as she's letting on, I thought. "Make camp!" boomed the captain. Later that night, I was summoned to Azzhirr's tent. As I walked in, I spotted Azzhirr sitting in a chair. Facing her stood a dwarf. The representive of the Thieve's Guild. I did not take me long realize what was going on. She had ordered him to scout inside the Temple. She was casting a seer spell which would allow her to see through his eyes; hear through his ears. "Go now." commanded Azzhirr. The dwarf, with a scowl, glanced up at me as he left. "Wildezword, I want you to see this with me." I sat down at the table. Before me was ancient architectural map of the Temple given to us by the city magistrates. Azzhirr hands came to rest upon my head and the vision of the dwarf began to overlap mine. I could hear him cursing under his breath. Stealthily, he entered the Flame Gate keeping to one side. He followed a pre-designed route through the Temple. Visiting the Anteroom, the Hall of the Assembly, the crimson Sun spire room. We saw everything. Patrolling dark elves wearing sophisticated armor, holstering sleek weapons of the finest steel. Undead troops standing, obediently waiting for commands. I guessed from the arsenal room that maybe around 900 troops were stationed here. Suddenly, I saw a black gloved hand come over the dwarf's mouth. A muffled cry. A stilleto blade flashed downward across his vision. His head was jerked upward so that we could only see the ceiling. Then...nothing. Both of us were silent for long moments. "Well?" she asked. "900 hundred troops, better skilled, better armed and armored. Our numbers will compensate." I replied. "But do we have a chance?" she asked. "Of course," I shrugged, "there's always a chance." "Then, I leave the details to you and the captain." With that she got up and walked out of the tent, the entrance flapping in the desert breeze; leaving me to sit alone in my thoughts. It was morning. We were all in foul spirits. The captain and I had both agreed that the army should move in total into the temple at once. Azzhirr had wanted to send in a preliminary force in hopes of weakenening the necromancer. "He needs to sleep! He needs rest! Make him use his magic!" she argued. When I pointed out that he will not need to use his magic at all if we come in piece meal, she had shut up. And I when pointed out that whatever force we sent early would likely add to the death mage's undead army, she did not say another word throughout the meeting. It was time. Azzhirr, the captain, and myself would each lead 4 hundreds. The rock hurlers would be with Azzhirr's group. I would be the first to enter. We marched past the Flame Gate. Nothing. The crimson Sunspire room. Nothing. The Antechamber. Nothing! The tension of our troops could be tasted. Flame warriors were used to direct confrontation. Not this...hide and seek. Finally, we entered the immense Hall of Assembly at the heart of the Great Temple. A colossal column ran up to the open sky and disappeared into the clouds floating at the top of the chamber. I spotted the dark elf host arranged along the western wall. Cavalry on the flanks, halberdiers and elves wielding barbed javelins forming the main host. I saw him. In the center of the host stood the necromancer resplendent in shimmering midnight blue robes. The first battalion entered unchallenged. I steered them left to allow the others to enter. Nothing happened. The second battalion entered. The third, the fourth. The mercenary captain steered his battalions to the right. The fifth, the sixth, the seventh, the eighth battlions entered. Still nothing. Azzhirr entered. The ninth, the tenth. He is letting us assemble. Why? Any general would have attacked by now. The eleventh, the twelfth. Suddenly, it occurred to me that this WAS A MAGE we faced! Stupid! He wants to be able to see us all; to affect us...all! I turned to yell at Azzhirr to signal the attack now. Out of the corner of my eyes I saw the dark elf raise his hands to the heavens and an eerie blue aura enveloped him. It was so beautiful. It expanded to encompass the whole of his army. Then, to our horror, the whole of his army transformed into hideous monsters from every man's worst nightmare. The mounts transformed into fiery Hell horses. The soldiers into winged demons with talons the size of swords and spiked tails. A commotion began to stir among our own troops. A cloud of deep male voices booming in fear. "No!...No!... It is an illusion!" I heard Azzhirr dimly shouting over the spreading panic. It was useless. Then, we heard the dark elf speak a word. "KLEE SAH!" The sharpness of the last syllable reverbeerated in waves across the great Antechamber. When that wave met our army, the first ranks all fell dead instantly. My mouth went dry. The dark elf raised his hands and the unholy blue light came again. And then we saw, all the dead soldiers, our comrades...reanimate. A carpet of bones rising out of dead flesh. The skeletons picked up the dropped claymores and began hacking into our army. A clear trumpet call pierced the air and the host of demons charged. The panicked murmer turned into a wail of many voices. Thoughts raced in my head. In my mind, the dark elf's plan came with great clarity. As long as the skeletons engaged us, we could not manuever as a body. He would smash us against the eastern wall like a hammer on an anvil. "KLEE SAH!" The second line fell dead. Again, a carpet of bones arose out of the fallen troops. Men began to drop their weapons and flee. Thoughts raced. Our troops were routing! The dark elf must die! NOW! I unsheathed Wildezword and called upon its great power. With the speed of an efreeti, I charged the necromancer, dodging between his troops like a faerie; the power the sword granted me was extraordinary. I crossed the Assemby Hall in only a few seconds. I came to a skidding halt in front of the necromancer; my sword poised behind me ready to swing in a vicious arc that would decapitate the mage. A freezing cold hand enclosed my sword wrist. I strained with great force to deliver the blow to no avail. Astonishment. Few beings existed that would have the strength and speed to stop my attack. Yet, my wrist was slowly being crushed. The coldness piercing the depths of my being. With a cry, I dropped my sword. Another hand grabbed my left arm and with great force painfully twisted it in a vice behind me. Then, I realized my fatal underestimation as I had a sudden insight into the type of creature that had caught me. I knew what was coming next. The dark elf's eyes locked onto mine. He smiled. Pain enveloped my entire body like fire consuming flash powder. I felt something penetrate my neck, my jugular vein. And I screamed. I don't know how long. The immense pain blurring my vision. Was it someone else screaming? I don't know. A distant whooshing came to my mind. It grew louder and louder. Suddenly, a booming sound. I felt a great impact from behind and my captor and I were flung into the necromancer. The three of us tumbled over two dozen feet before we fell to the ground. Still reeling from the pain and the impact of falling, I desperately pulled out my dagger, rolled over and grabbed for the mage. He was trying to crawl away. I pulled him back down using his body to stand. Grabbing him by his hair, I violently yanked his head back and laid my dagger to his exposed neck. None too soon, either. My captor was quickly recovering, also. A vampire; creatures that could run with the speed of gale winds and possessed the strength of ten men. The vampire was a moving torch, but he was quickly putting out the flames. I may be able to defeat the vampire if I had my sword! I glanced at Wildezword lying on the ground. I began to drag the necromancer. The vampire had recovered and was stalking me. "Don't come any closer!" I snarled. The dark elf shouted,"Kill me! I will only become stronger!" "Shut up!" I screamed. "Kill me!" "Shut up! SHUT UP!"I yelled. A thought came to me. The Assassin! Where is he?! Greatly daring, I took my eyes off the vampire to glance at the battle. To glance around me. The mercenary captain had managed to rally the troops. If the Assassin was not here defending his lord, then that means...My eyes searched for Azzhirr. I watched as Azzhirr unleashed the Fury Fire, a cyclone of flaming darts, into the ranks of the javeliners and halberdiers; the flaming arrows perforating the bodies of those unfortunate enough to be caught within it. Thoughts raced again. It was better that the vampire was here and not in the battle, but if Azzhirr fell it would all be for nothing. The necromancer must die. That was a given. I would have to time things perfectly. The stalemate continued; the vampire hovering over me. The necromancer was watching the battle like a painter who was completing a great work of art. Keeping an eye on the vampire, I tried to watch Azzhirr carefully. There! A vague shadowy form 30 feet from Azzhirr. In one motion, with great satisfaction, I slit the mage's throat and grabbed a hold of my sword. The vampire howled in fury. With extraordinary speed, I blazed across the battle field; the vampire close on my heels. I had lost sight of the Assassin. To all who viewed, I was slicing air, but I was guessing the speed of the Assassin and was hoping against hope that my blade it home. My sword plunged into something and a body materialized to my right and crumpled to the ground. I turned around and raised my sword in a wild attempt to parry the vampire's blow. His talons stabbing into my back, raking across my face, my chest. I returned in kind. The battle shifted and we were in the middle of the berserkers. I MUST hold the vampire! The battle between us was long. Battle time goes by so slowly. I am so tired. I feel a blow to my head and everything goes black. I awaken in a bed. I am dizzy. I'm in a tent. Daeme Azzhirr was cleaning my wounds with water. She had always disliked handling the stuff. "Don't get used to this." she snapped. But the gentleness of her hands belied the harshness of her voice. I lost consciousness again slipping back into the comfort of sleep.


Chapter 7 -- A Surprise for Life

"Lord Reisz! There be a brownie requesting thine audience!" a low councilman declared. "Why do you waste my time with brownies?" Reisz demanded. "Eh...Reisz old friend, I do believe that brownie may be representing the Bur-Jin elves...they be powerful allies, and their archery skills are known around the land." cautioned Sean. "Hm...you have a point Sean. Now take a break to see your wife while I speak with this brownie." Reisz commanded. Sean nodded and walked up the stairs to the tower. Reisz proceeded into his court where the brownie awaited. "What are you here for sir?" inquired Reisz. After recieving the story from the small brownie, he sent his best rider, Tyl to go with the brownie to elven territory. He then was interupted by his advisor. But that is another chapter. Sean proceeded up the stairs and entered the small houselike tower. "Sean? Is that you?" a lithe young woman asked. "Yes it is Krystin. Are you well?" Sean asked. "Of course...Reisz's flunkies could have been a bit more polite." Krystin said, a wide grin spreading across her face. Sean knew what that ment. Reisz would never see that messanger again. "Kry, you must learn to stop the ranton magic...Reisz loses more messangers that way." he said. "Oh...well perhaps we will have a chance to use it on our enemy?" Krystin asked, her face showing she was now serious. "Ah, but how do we us magic on our enemies when we do not yet know who is our enemy?" Sean said, as usual answering a question with another question. "Good poi---" Krystin started, but then there was a great cry heard from down below. Sean waved his hands around the both and the disappeared into a cloud of smoke.

"Where'd he go?" a noble asked. A cloud appeared and Sean and Krystin stepped out of it. "What is going on here?" asked Sean. "A ordinary looking man requested an audience with yourself and Reisz and Reisz had ordered that anyone be given an audience." the noble replied, knowing that Sean was on the edge. "And?" Sean said impatiently. "While waiting for you to arrive, Reisz was distracted and the man snatched a dagger and threw it through his shoulder..." the noble finished. "Ah....there is nothing I can do...get Reisz in bed and I will assume his rule. NOW!" Sean ordered. "Bu--" started the noble. "YOU HEARD ME KNAVE! NOW!" Sean exclaimed, raising his hand, lightning glowing from his eyes. "Foolish nobles...." Krystin said quietly. Sean turned to her. "Do you know what this curtails? We must lead the people of Order to victory." "Of course...I shall inform the brownie visitor that they are now dealing with you my husband." she said, nodding.

Sean stood on the palace balcony, letting the wind cool his tempers. "Long day, old fri--*cough cough*" someone inquired. Sean sighed and turned around. "Reisz, you should be resting...most likely that blade was poisoned and--" started Sean. "I know! I know! But I felt it was of good measure to let you know you're doing just fine. There is no better person to lead the ranks of Order." Reisz said. "Don't expect me to keep this position! It is yours!" Sean exclaimed. "I realize that...but you must keep my ranks going until I may lead again." said Reisz. "Of course...now go back to your room...rest." Sean ordered, as if to one of his apprentices. Reisz smiled and nodded, turning back to head down the stairs. Sean sighed and watched the distance, and almost dropped his jaw when he saw the faint outline of a large bat and his rider. Sean turned to a nearby crier and told him "GO and tell everyone Balkoth arrives! Go now! With the speed of your fore-fathers lad!" said Sean impatiently, for good reason. The boy ran down the stairs, yelling out the news to everyone. Sean turned back to the platform and cursed to himself. "In for a silver, in for a gold...." he sighed.

Sean stood on the battlefield, mentally examining his spells. Krystin stood next to him, doing the same. "Lord Sean?" a maceman asked. "No, no lord. Just Sean. What do you need?" Sean asked, with patience almost unlike himself. "Well, the men are concerned about thier families...this is a very dangerous time...and we wish to request that they be protected in the castle." the maceman said, almost as if he feared for his life. "Of course my good man....now head back to the ranks your family's safety insured." Sean said with genuine smile. The maceman headed back to his spot, spreading the news to his fellow warrior. "Why did you lie to them like that?" Krystin murmured. "M'dear, I did not lie, I merely stated that thier families would be safe." Sean answered. Krystin smiled and continued to review her spells. Sean looked around. 1750 handpicked men...most likely half of them would not make it back. That's 875, proud just men, dying so as to combat this great evil. 875 men never to see the day. Sean sighed and vowed to do as much as possible to see that these men would live the day. "He's here!" a rise of exclamations rose from the ranks. "ALRIGHT TROOPS! THIS IS THE MOMENT OF OUR DESTINY!" Sean boomed over thier exclamations. Sean merely nodded to Krystin, who began uttering the words to a spell. This was to be one of Order's greatest moments....or the moment of their doom.


Chapter 8 -- From the Chaos, Emerges... ORKUS!

Awareness dawns slowly.... colors emerge from the black nether-realm that surrounds me. Time passes slowly, yet I am relieved that it passes at all. Too much time has passed, months? Years? Millenia? I cannot say. What has awakened me? Ah, I sense a deep evil seeping into the lands. Urak. The name sparks other memories... hordes of followers/worshippers sweeping across deserts... A grin crosses my face as other memories resurface. Blood, lust, claws. Two-handed battle swords weilded by some of the strongest of my followers. The absolute strongest were rewarded with mighty war horses bred for speed and strength. The best among them fought for the right to try and tame a wild tiger to claim as their mounts. Those who succeeded acted as my lieutenants, directing my earthly armies into battle.

Those who fail... die. Others vie for my attention by learning the art of assasination and thievery. I reward them with the dexterity to coordinate longer range attacks. Unfortunately, as I recall, they were an unruly lot, given to much drinking. Often they forgot entirely to bring their spears and javelins into battle and would have to resort to throwing whatever lies nearby on the ground, be it sticks, rocks, or body parts. A few of the more mentally gifted have crafted thier own flying sticks they dub "boomerangs".

Those who show even more mental aptitude, are rewarded with a glimpse of myself and the unearthly powers I wield as this is the only way to impart them with the knowledge of the mystical world. Unfortunately, this glimpse of my power will often disrupt their normal mental patterns, leaving them drooling, or if lucky, able to draw upon mystical powers. Even those who live, suffer, as human minds were not meant to comprehend the powers I wield. Their mystical abilities are.... sporadic, at best.

I feel my awareness expanding I see a troop of my followers marching by a bush concealing a lone person. With some effort, I enter his mind... Reisz. Other thoughts flash by... loathing, smug satisfaction and plans to follow my minions. For now, I lack the strength to alter his thoughts or crush him... for I recognize his straight-laced and too-rational patterns of thought as those of my natural enemy Order.

A slow rage builds in me as I wonder how long the forces of Order have been free of the black nimbus while I was unaware of the material world. What deeds has Order accomplished? Have they once again attempted to impose their rigid mentality upon Urak, or have my followers and the others managed to keep Urak in its more natural, unregulated state?

I expand my awareness..... I see... EVIL! Too much evil. The balance of power has tipped out of natural alignment towards evil. I must not let Urak become unbalanced. Order is as unnatural as can be, but too much influence by any one faith will destroy the beauty of chaos. And evil.... a name flashes into my mind... BALKOTH... won't stop there!

I now see all the faiths of old awakening and mobilizing their followers. This bodes well for the future of Urak. I will rest a while longer to gather my strength and urge those on Urak who once followed my ways to again flock to my banner!

I wait patiently.......

.....A faint smile once again crosses my lips as I recall the ways to draw upon my ancient creations, the Cyclops, Ogres and even the Goblins. Ah yes, the Goblins. The one failure of my creations. Maybe this time I will fare better in my attempts to create followers in my image. Those who would be worthy to bear my name on Urak.... the ORKS!!!!

As I tilt my head back and sream my battle cry: WAAAAAAAAAA ORKUS!, I feel Urak tremble from my growing powers. The snows on mount Olympus avalanche, volcanos erupt around Caer Kallizsha, branches fall from the mighty trees in Primavera, chunks of stone fall from the ancient stone carvings of my natural enemy, great waves disrupt the normally calm seas of Urak, gnomes are buried under tons or earth and a scorching wind races across Urak's deserts, exposing caves and structures long since buried.....

I return....................

On to Part 3