Chapter One hundred and eleven
Krissintha Arlonet Dar Ghelain followed the ork captain and his gang of giant, green friends down the hill, Kiwa jogging right next to her. Her self-appointed body-guard’s laughing mask muffled the cheerful tune she was humming, but not enough.
Why are you so happy? We’re all going to die. This is a stupid plan! She wailed to her over the voice-chat.
What are you talking about, boss? It’s a brilliant plan. By the Hellspawn himself. Kitala Iwani sang her reply, matching it to the tune she was humming — it was weird to hear it both with her ears and through the voice-chat.
We should be fine. Kevin attempted to reassure her, although the spirit didn’t sound convinced himself. The main baddies will be focused on the gate and Fenar and the ork army. You just make sure you don’t draw more Mana than you can use.
What are you talking about? Won’t be much left once Fenar does his thing. And that’s one of the things that worries me. What am I supposed to do if the back of the place is guarded? She moaned.
Kiwa and Reggie’s guys can handle it. I’ll eat anything and anyone that gets through them. It’s a good plan.
Maybe it was a good plan overall — everyone seemed to think so — but it certainly wasn’t taking her safety and survival into any consideration, which was something she cared about deeply. She hadn’t got this far just to die at the hands of green barbarians in the middle of their stupid civil-war. She had escaped the aftermath of one of those already, and never in her wildest dreams had she imagined she’d end up in the middle of another one. Granted, she had agreed to help Fenar and his rangers in their mission to get their people back, but getting involved in an orkish uprising? Wasn’t that going a bit too far? She understood the reason for it, she even agreed that it would serve the interests of the elves in the long run, and Solace would be much safer with the Vraathkill Clan under a new leadership. But Master Fenar willing to sacrifice her and Kiwa to achieve that? That didn’t sit well with her, and the fact that the man was putting himself in as much if not more danger, didn’t make her feel any better. She made up her mind that if they all lived after this, she wouldn’t let the scarfaced elf leave without teaching her everything he knew about Mana. She was now his disciple after all, wasn’t she?
They were almost back at the city, and she could see hundreds of torchlights moving about the streets. It seemed the entire population was up now, even this late at night — or this early in the morning — probably rounding up the clan boss’ henchmen in the city, or just waiting to see the results of Big Wroogh’s push to end Skraath Ironbite’s rule and to install himself as clan boss.
Raagstrom Raagh and his gang took a sharp turn before reaching the first of the houses, leading them away from the city towards a lightly forested area around the hill. The orks seemed to know what path to tread, jogging comfortably between the trees, going around the hill to approach the fort from the back. Krissintha was thankful that the rain had stopped, and the clouds were letting at least a little of the moonlight through, making it easier for her to keep pace without having to rely on Mana or on Kiwa to lead her.
‘Almost there, ya ganks,’ the biggest one of Raagstrom Raagh’s buddies declared, the only one Kevin had put on the voice-chat. Dragtaar Gaarn, if she remembered the orkish name correctly. The ork then glanced at her and Kiwa, then said, ‘Ya skinny fuggers sure yer gon be gettin’ us through dat wall? Ain’t thin dat wall, ya know.’
‘We ain’t weaklings like ya ganks,’ Krissintha growled her answer in orkish, speaking the old-fashioned way instead of using the voice chat, sneering at him underneath her mask.
She could say a lot of things about the large, green, barbarian creatures, but their language was fun. A little harsh on the throat, but fun. She had spent so much time listening to ork-talk, that she was confident she could at the very least insult them without issues.
Dragtaar Gaarn looked at Raagstrom Raagh, who nodded with a grunt — if not an approval at least an acknowledgment — and that seemed to be enough for the beastly fellow to resume jogging without any further questions, and focus on leading the group to their designated spot behind the fort.
Your orkish is pretty good, you sounded like you’re in a death metal band. Arch Enemy, maybe. Her familiar commented, almost cheerfully.
I don’t know what that is. Was it a compliment? She said, rolling her eyes.
He thinks it was. Hank joined in out of nowhere. The Agonist would have been a better one.
First of all, same singer. Second of all, shut up, because you’ve never listened to either of them. Kevin argued about whatever the ominous sounding things were. Arch Enemy? Agonist? Those couldn’t possibly be good things.
True, but I remember them like you do, so you shut up!
Hank wasn’t taking it lying down, it seemed, and so her input was necessary, unless she’d be willing to put up with the two of them bickering indefinitely. Which she wasn’t.
Stop it, both of you! Krissintha hushed the pair of spirit-brothers. Worry about our Mana supply instead. We’ll have barely any left for fighting once Fenar breaks the gate down and we break the wall. Worry about that instead! Or do you think the big bad familiar in there won’t go after the Tentacle Horror the moment it sees it? And worry about the fact that I happen to be right in front of the Tentacle Horror at all times. The spirits went silent, no response to her scolding. Typical. Was this what it felt like to be the mother of a pair of antagonistic twins, she wondered. Maybe, but why did she have to be in this position? You two should know better. Especially you, Kevin. You said you’re a grown man, or used to be, so act like one. Hank started to let out the beginnings of a laugh, but she didn’t let him. And you, Hank, stop nitpicking. You need to sort your relationship out with your brother. At your earliest convenience.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
Stepbrother at best. Kevin interjected.
Sorry Krissy, I fully intend to sort it out. Sooner than later. Hank said, his voice serious for a change.
Good. She acknowledged the statement.
Good indeed. Hank said.
Krissintha left it at that, because their orkish guides slowed down and started exchanging hand signals instead of the loud and insult-rich way of talking to each other. She couldn’t see it from among the trees, but it seemed they had arrived or were at least close. Raagstrom Raagh and Dragtaar Gaarn tiptoed to the edge of the woods — two giant creatures trying and failing to be quiet was a weirdly comical sight — and everyone followed them. She peered out from behind one of the last trees at the edge, looking up the hill, and she could see the dark silhouette of the fort under the faint moonlight.
That’s about a hundred metres up. Kevin said. I can see a couple of sentries on the wall.
I see them too. Kiwa confirmed.
Krissintha sighed with resignation; there was no getting out of this, so they might as well get it over with, and hopefully stay alive.
Master Fenirig Arte, we’re in position, two sentries on the wall on our end. You may begin. She informed the Master of Third Rangers doubling as a prominent figure in orkish folk legends.
We’re marching already, so be ready for the boom! The reply came, not a small amount of glee in the elf’s voice.
Krissintha wasn’t surprised; she’d only known the man for little over a year, but she knew the two things that really motivated him were anything related to training and fighting, or finding ways to stay on his wife’s good side while focusing on anything related to training and fighting. Oh, Korolan Mirei! How was she able to put up with a literal living legend even after hundreds of years of marriage?
The sounds of the march coming from the other side of the fort and the hill were getting louder; she could just picture the thousand-strong horde of giant brutes trudging after the skinny Hellspawn, shaking their fists and clubs and whatever else they had for weapons. This wasn’t going to end well for quite a few of them.
“Better them than us,’ she muttered.
Damn right! Kevin agreed, then added: You’re talking about the orks, right?
‘Yeah.’
Oh, here it comes, the bastard’s taking a lot of Mana! The spirit screeched, half angry half excited.
Then the “boom” came crashing down on the gate at the other end of the fort, a bright blue flash of power illuminating the night, outshining the pale moon above the thinning clouds for a short moment. The sounds of rocks, wood and other debris falling and hitting the ground nearly drowned out by the cheering of the ork army.
Right, the sentries just left the wall, safe to go! Kevin announced, then Kiwa confirmed it.
It was time, now or never.
Krissintha drew just a little bit of Mana from her familiar to aid her, then broke into a sprint. She didn’t have to look back to know that her self-proclaimed bodyguard was right on her heels, and Raagstrom Raagh and his gang’s footsteps were loud enough to wake the dead, probably, or to alert the occupants of the fort. Luckily neither happened, and in half a minute they reached the wall without evidence of anyone noticing them.
Alright, thick wall. Kevin commented. 30 MP should do the trick.
Krissintha noticed a momentary blue shimmer in front of her; Kevin’s Mana-Armour that had saved her life on more than one occasions. She stepped back from the wall, waving to the others to do the same.
Am I far enough? She asked.
A few more steps … yes, that’s it. Kevin said. Ready?
About ten paces from the thick, wood and stone wall, Krissintha listened to the clamoring coming from the other side. The clanging of steel on steel, the screaming and growling, and the occasional wet, tearing sounds were a spine-chilling invitation to join the violence, one she wasn’t keen to accept. But what choice did she have, standing here and now?
‘Ready,’ she whispered.
***
Standing face to face with a spirit’s power pouring out to obliterate a wall, so close she could feel the freezing cold wind of it getting through her familiar’s protection, was an experience both fascinating and petrifying. Krissintha had seen the aftermath of the kind of destruction Mana could do: a hole blown into the side of a certain galley, bodies torn apart and scattered, or a red mist that used to be three ork spiritualists. This time there had been a wall in front of her, and now there wasn’t.
Go go go go go! Kevin yelled. Chaaarge!
The orks moved first, rushing through the breach and into the settling dust and dirt, slaloming around the broken stones and splintered wooden posts littering the ground inside. Krissintha followed them, or rather the sound of their weird war-cries; if breaching the wall hadn’t got the enemy’s attention, then Raagstrom Raagh and his fellow orks’ noisy charge certainly would. She hoped they wouldn’t forget their purpose of being here, to keep the non-spiritualist riff-raff off their backs.
Right. I re-filled my Mana-pool again, from my secondary EP pool, but Fenar’s already using it again. Kevin reported. I can keep Mana-Armour going for some time, you can use about 2 or 3 MP per minute, too, but I can’t do another blast, not for the next ten minutes.
Krissintha just nodded as she jogged right after Kitala Iwani. She could see a couple of buildings ahead, dark and massive, and behind them would be the battle. She still wasn’t sure how Kevin’s whole EP and MP nonsense worked, but she was happy to hear her familiar was able to keep shielding her from enemy attacks — judging by the increasing volume of shrieking, screaming and bellowing, she’d need it.
No no no no no, goddammit Fenar, no! Kevin yelled into the voice-chat in a panic.
Before she could even comprehend that this was a bad sign, the ground shook as thunder filled the air, and a familiar blue flash lit up the dust cloud shooting up behind the buildings. Krissintha screeched to a halt, so did Raagstrom Raagh and his fellows some ten paces ahead of her.
Damn, the Hellspawn’s busy. Kiwa commented.
Damn motherfucker just used up all my Mana. Again. Kevin wailed. Shit, I can get only 8MP from my Essence Pools. That’s it. Master Fenar, I’m cutting you off.
Don’t you dare! I’m in the middle of … Fenar protested immediately.
Sorry mate, Krissy has priority. The spirit cut him short.
Then get here already and do something useful! This is tougher than I thought. Fenar yelled back at him.
Tougher than he thought? Krissintha almost couldn’t believe it. Master Fenirig Arte was struggling? What was she supposed to do without Kevin’s Mana? But the answer was there, Fenar had already said it: “get there and do something useful.”
It was all happening just beyond the houses. It wasn’t far, she just needed to jog around them either left of right. Simple. Raagstrom Raagh and his team were doing it already.
‘Come on, boss, let’s join this party!’ Kiwa yelled, grabbing her arm and pulling her along.
I got Mana-Armour back up, but don’t have any extra for anything else. Kevin reported again.
That was better than nothing. Krissintha picked up the pace, following her companion around the large buildings, her heart beating in her throat, but suddenly feeling a strange calm coming over her. So, this was it. Life or death, and she was rushing to it. Again. Damn, Kitala Iwani and Master Fenar were a horrendously bad influence on her, weren’t they?