The warhammer came in hard and the orc lord parried. The impact went up Mp's arm. He used the momentum to bring it in a spinning move that caught the lord in the ribcage unawares. The piggish eyes, once so cruel, now widened in shock and pain. It yet took three more blows for it to realize it was dead. Mp saw an orc mage blast Jason with a lightning bolt. Likely Jason hardly felt it, so focused he was on dismembering an orc captain, yet Mp pulled a wand of magic arrow from his belt and landed one in the mage's face. Nothing stirred an orc like non-leathal damage. The mage's poison spell was resisted by sheer will power and the mage soon followed the lord into whatever hell they preferred.
The battle for Deluccia was well underway. Mp had gathered his Hands of the Divine and they were carving a bloody path through the orc occupying forces. They had no hope of liberating the town by themselves. However, this was one of many raids HoD had embarked on to thin out the enemy numbers and keep them from massing against the second town of the lost lands, Papua. His guild was definately keeping their attention focused. He had never seen his people in better form...
Yes, the age old cliche of the old soldier simply fit too well. How long had it been since he had taken staff or hammer to foe? He could not remember the last time his magic stole the life from a enemy. And he often wondered if there was anything they could not overcome as a team. Was it bravery or foolishness that lead them into impossible fights time and again? He felt that one often lead to the other...
Manty had been right. He had come to the newly built town during his turn at guard duty. Seconds later he was whisked away on wings of magic to Mp's side. Now HoD hunted a shadow wyrm. One of the most ferocious mortal creatures in Britannia and someone had planted it in their new town. Josie fired off another lightning bolt to distract it while Mp summoned a Daemon he had bound. What better weapon to use against evil, than another evil? Either way they lost. The Daemon traded blows with the Wyrm and Jason and Mp charged in. This is what they lived for...
Flitting memories of their first attempt at a home burned through his mind. The town died soon afterwards but sometimes he wondered if it was really the town that mattered. He often felt that it was the need to have something to protect that had driven them to help found, and then guard it. But then again, protecting towns was one of the things they had always done best. Wasn't it?
Mp was riding hard. The new forest ostards that Mia had tamed for the guild were showing themselves to be amazingly fast creatures. He noted to buy her a drink when this was all over.
They were hunting orcs once again. A build up was discovered west of Vesper and HoD had risen to the call once more. Emp and Matt were doggedly tearing into the mass of orcs while Josie and Mia were showing their mages what true magical power was. Mp and Jason were hunting the lords in the forest north of the beach. Jason was ahead of Mp by two heads but the day was young. He swung his warmace behind him without thinking. It connected solidly with an orc helmet. Even the lords were not above appearing behind you it seemed. A quick spin and two more blows left a bleeding corpse in his wake. Mp shook his head. Jason once again had some competition...
The old man smiled to himself. Not all battles were so glorious though. You would have thought that a strategist like himself would never be caught off guard. But that was painfully untrue. Sometimes just surviving a battle was a victory in itself. And sometimes, just sometimes, it teaches a lesson to those who only learn the hard way. He just wished he wasn't always the one paying for the classes...
They had an army. What was reported as a single fortress of orcs had turned out to be so much more. Ratmen and Ogres had added to the numbers. There were lords and mages in excess of one to each grunt. There must have been half a dozen separate tribes. And HoD had walked right into it. As another blast hit him from behind Mp could only blame himself. Parrying an axe he caught the assailant unawares with the speed of his riposte and nearly decapitated it. A mind blast shook him hard while yet another lord stepped up to surround him. At least he'd gotten the rest of his people out alive. With his body wracked by poison and enemy spells and axes battering him almost faster than he can note the pain Mp was still smiling. They hardly needed him anymore anyway. They no longer needed a "leader" so much as an old man to measure the passing of the years. It had been a good life.
A mage got too close and paid for it with its life. The death opened up a hole in the ranks and Mp took the chance. Well it seemed the Divine had other plans for him afterall. Just before unconsciousness stole into his mind he completed one last spell...
The old man frown angrily. Nothing is ever as it seems. That was one cliche that seemed to have more merit the older he got. Sometimes things just happen no matter what your intentions and preparations. You can call it evil, cruelty, misunderstanding, or plain old fashioned jealousy. But some lessons should never have to be learned...
It was an ambush. What was supposed to be a simple mediation between two warring factions had become a blood bath when the cowards turned on Mp and Jason. Now the bodies of HoD members littered the ground. The enemy needed four attackers and three dragons to handle just the two of them. Mp could not see how they could call this a victory. He felt defeated. They deserved a better lord.
Even in death Mp wept for his beloved as her body cooled. She had come in with spells blazing even when she had to know she had no chance. At the same time he smiled as Jason killed one of their attackers before succumbing to sheer numbers. "Well, he did more damage than I." Even when HoD seemed destroyed, his people reminded him with deeds that defeat is only in the mind. Straightening his ghostly shoulders he floated off to a healers. Sometimes, the teacher had the most to learn. After all, there were still other HoD members alive, and even death could not hold them for long...
Wiping an uninvited tear from his eyes he openly wept as his memories threatened to overwhelm him once again. They had been his guild, his people, his pride, and his greatest pain. HoD had been a family to him for so long that he still felt they were near him. He looked at his armor as it lay before him. His glacial staff glowed with power. His cloak was mended and his shield was braced. They had been unused for so long that he wondered if he could still wield them. Mia, Emp, Matt, Jason, Manty, and especially his beloved Josie's ghosts floated about him and threatened to choke him once again. Memories of memories. Each more painful than the last. Taking one last look at his empty guildhall, He angrily wiped his face. Slowly and deliberately he donned his armor. One piece at a time savoring each buckle and strap. At one point he noted it was a little snug around the mid section. Frowning he made a mental note to talk to his blacksmith about faulty work.
Striding purposely to his guildhall door he hung up a sign. He never realized how much emotion, meaning, history, and pain there could be in two words. Now it was one more lesson he'd had to learn. Taking up his staff and helmet he mounted his faithfull ostard and rode into Britain to place an identical sign on the bank.
NOW RECRUITING
The Hands of the Divine would bring goodness into the world again. And Masterpoet was never one to fade away gracefully.
