Eternal Dream

Battles are hard to write because you have to have all the details right or it just reads like crap and doesn't make any sense.

It's taken me a long time to get this far with the story because I have to work these battles out in my head, or with miniatures (The power of geekdom!) and then figure out how I am going to describe them in a way that lets you see what I do.

I'm really not sure that I've managed to do that with what I have here, but my only other choice is to go over it again and again, and I don't think anyone wants to wait any longer than they absolutely have to for this chapter, so here it is.

Let me know what you think.

Cperez@gmotion.com 2/17/2004

There is darkness and light in all mortal beings.

It is this eternal struggle between our brightest hopes and our darkest urges that defines whether or not we are good people.

Evil is not in your nature brothers, it is only in what you choose.

-------- Teachings of Korak'Zhull

The sound of gentle music wafted through the corridors of the Zhull Monastery. Robed figures moved with silent grace, going about their chores with an air of serenity. Some moved amongst the plants in the meditation gardens, tending to their charges with loving attention, while others knelt nearby in silent contemplation.

The fields were a place of focused energy as monks worked the land that provided the Monastery's staple foods. Still more tended to the vineyards that allowed the Monastery to produce the finest wines known in the Kingdom of Man. With the funds from the sale of these wines, the monks were able to purchase other necessities, as well as send out occasional missions of mercy to help those in need.

The monks were not human however. The Zhull Monastery had always been the home of orks. Half-orks to be more precise, each having come from their homes and family to learn to make the most of who and what they were: Shamans.

Most came from the rescued victims of ork raids, children born of rape who had risen above the calling of their orkish blood. Many others were shamans who left their tribes because they just did not fit into the blood-soaked society of their fellow orks. Some few of the brethren were the children of willing marriages. Varied though their pasts might be, all shared a common goal and ambition. It was their hope to redeem their people and free them from the hellish existence that the Dark God had condemned them to. Until that goal was accomplished, they would not allow their people to sweep away the world into Kerlack's dark hell.

The chores of the day were performed with special care, for they were a form of goodbye. Only the humans who lived and worked at the Monastery would remain behind when the brethren departed. Each of them knew that the time had come to protect the world that was left, and hoped that they could save their people in the process.

Nathan found himself once more in the presence of the woman he hated above all others. His face bore a bruise on the left side from what looked to be a fist driven into his cheek, and his eyes were burning with a cold hate. He was sure that the moron in front of him would naturally assume that hatred was for Andy, who had struck him the night before when he had loudly, and publicly dismissed the young Nathan from his service, so he felt safe expressing it this once.

The hate felt good, it warmed him deep inside and fought off the chill that touched his soul whenever he reminded himself of the terribly dangerous position he was in. Prince E'rin, in sympathy for Nathan, had taken the boy into HIS service almost as soon as Andy had dismissed him. If the truth came out about what was going on, and the part he had to play in all of it, his life would be worth less than nothing. He would never live long enough to regret whatever mistake he made. This hateful woman would see to that.

At the moment however, Baroness duPre' seemed to be delighted with Nathan. His appearance suggested that he had evoked deep and painful emotions when he unleashed his plan to split the royal couple. The plan, as Nathan had explained it, was to convince Prince E'rin that Andy, sexually frustrated by his inability to have sex with his "true love", had seduced the innocent young serving boy who had, of course, fallen deeply in love with his charismatic Lord. While it wouldn't be enough to end their relationship, once they grew more attuned to their bond they would learn the truth of it eventually, it would delay the development of that bond long enough to allow Ter'Zhull to seize them and complete his plans.

So far, no more than rumors were circulating amongst the troops. The royal couple had taken great pains the following morning to appear happy and relaxed, but the experienced politicians amongst the Court sensed a subtle tension on both Princes that worried them.

Upon his arrival in her quarters, Nathan had informed the Baroness that Kings C'ominar and Kail were in conference, presumably discussing how to handle the situation. The news delighted the duPre' and she had been gushing all over Nathan for his successes.

The whole process sickened him, but silently Nathan swore to himself that when he brought the Baroness down for her part in ruining his family, he would remind her of this moment of triumph and inform her that it was the beginning of her destruction at his hands.

"I am glad I have pleased you My Lady." He said, forcing a pleasant tone to his voice. "I trust that your end of the arrangement is in order."

The Baroness waved off the comment casually. "Oh of course, I have arranged for your lands to be returned to your family. I have informed your... mother of the arrangement so that your factor can begin to take up the administration." She shrugged casually. It wasn't as if those lands were hers anyway and it tacked another noble family onto her entourage of followers, willing and not. "You will need to continue here of course." She said causally. "We can't afford to have them start talking to each other and straightening things out now can we?" Lady duPre' asked with a cruel smile. 'Besides,' she thought to herself 'the little queer needs to stay around so that he can be killed along with the people of this city when Ter'Zhull overruns the defenses.' The Baroness was a firm believer in covering her tracks.

The Kings of both elf and man departed the following day, along with most of the Royal Court. Kail publicly declared Andy not only Heir, but Regent as well and stated that he was returning to Anathulsula to recover, leaving the affairs of the realm in Andy's capable hands.

E'rin and Andy maintained an outward cordiality, but never got close to each other, nor did they address each other directly. Baroness duPre' practically gloated as she watched from her position near the docks. She had resisted suggestions that she should depart with the Court, claiming that she should be here to observe and insure that an "objective" account was kept of the fighting.

C'ominar had attempted to leave Asane'ta K'sha behind with E'rin, but the Prince had demurred saying that it would be needed to protect El'Analon if they failed here. A situation that duPre' thought to be a virtual certainty. The night before, she had informed Ter'Zhull of the situation and he was in the process of bringing in his reinforcement so that he could commit to his assault.

It was only an hour after the Kings' departure that the monks arrived. The Baroness had no idea of who they were until one of the Border Knights, flattered at the seeming interest of a noble lady, had explained to her the monk's origins. He had smiled in understanding as her upper lip curled in distain at learning that they were half orks, but he could not have known that her contempt was due to what she perceived as treason on the part of the orks. She found the creatures to be disgusting, but she could not tolerate apostasy to God. Those who turned from the Lord would have to be made to repent before they were cleansed.

The heretics' leader was shown into the Royal Pavilion and the Prince's advisors were summoned. The Baroness was not invited, but she was sure that she would find out what was discussed. Their plans would all be for naught.

No one could defy the One True God.

The ork Abbot was old, REALLY old. One normally did not get to see how orks aged, as their own tribes killed them when their age began to slow them down and they became a drag on the others. What's more, the Abbot was, like all of his brethren, a Shaman. But unlike the shamans amongst the feral orks, the monks could act as a true Gestalt, just as the elvin Bladedancers could, but with all the focus of a single will.

For the first several hours of their audience the gentle Abbot, whose voice was calming like the sound of a running brook, explained to the Princes and their advisors how the monks had spent centuries bringing together both their powers as orks, but the distant heritage of their elf ancestors as well. The result was deeply impressive.

"We have made considerable progress on the static defenses, as well as contingency planning on handling the assault." Andy told the Abbot.

It had taken a bit of time for Andy to work on the idea of fall back plans. The experienced leaders, who served as his advisors, had explained to him how no plan would survive contact with the enemy for long. They explained to him what had occurred in the first battle, which he had spent fighting Ter'Zhull, and pointed out how the unexpected ork cavalry had seriously disrupted their battle plan. Andy had responded by explaining Murphy's Law to them. Once they agreed that the Demon Murphy was a universal constant, they labored to come up with a series of fallback plans.

"My interest at this point, is to determine what part you would be able to play in those plans, and how we can fit you into the existing Chain of Command." Andy went on.

"It is our intention to fight." The Abbot said in his quiet voice. "We will help your Host defend the valley Your Highness." He paused. "Those of our people who we can help to free themselves of Kerlack we will." He sighed in sadness. "Those we cannot save, must be stopped from doing further harm, or bringing the world to darkness with them. We can destroy them with a clear conscience. "

Andy considered that for a moment, and then nodded thoughtfully. "I assume you would prefer NOT to have to kill though?"

The Abbot bobbed his head in agreement. "We will do what must be done, but violence is something that we avoid as it is.... Agreeable to the darker side of our natures."

"I understand completely Abbot." Andy said. "There are, I'm sure, plenty of ways that you can use your powers that are not fatal. In fact, from what I'm given to understand from my discussions with veterans from the Border Forts, your people have spells that can effect masses of individuals, doing no permanent harm, but creating disruptions that will make them much less effective in combat." He smiled as the Abbot nodded thoughtfully. "I'm not saying that we won't EVER need you to kill, but I intend to use your powers to increase the effectiveness of my troops while DECREASING the effectiveness of the Horde as opposed to using you simply to kill." He grinned savagely. "The orks won't be expecting that sort of assistance, and if you keep your workings subtle they most likely won't figure it out for some time."

Sir Kendrick had been riding with his friend Swift for almost 5 years now. Kendrick had been fascinated by griffins ever since he was a small boy in Hereon, and as soon as he was able, he had joined the service of the Sky Knights working in the Aerie, tending to the needs of the on duty griffins. Eventually his talents in working with the adults, coupled with his small size, got him moved to working with hatchlings.

It was there that he had met with Swift. The youngling griffin and the boy had become fast friends. When Swift reached adulthood, it was determined that his small, lean body was not suited to the combat arms. Instead, Swift was trained to work as a scout. Speed and stealth as well as keen vision and a good memory were important, and Swift excelled at his training.

Much to his surprise and delight, Kendrick had been assigned to be Swift's rider and partner due to his short stature and slight weight. For over five years they had flown together in the service of the Border Knights before Kendrick had won his spurs of Knighthood. The pair had become one of the most effective partnerships in the Sky Knights and they were used primarily for long-range scouting.

For three days now, the pair had been keeping tabs on a significant force of orks moving through the Elvin Forest, most likely to reinforce the Horde encamped at the mouth of the pass that the Host was guarding.

Skirting the bottom of the clouds, Kendrick could see for miles and Swift's keen vision allowed him to keep track of losses amongst his targets so that he could keep a general count of the force.

Flying was the most exhilarating thing that Kendrick could imagine. In fact, he preferred to be out in the wilds on the back of his best friend than even in the arms of some pretty woman back at the Aerie. Over the years, Kendrick had learned to rely on his instincts in the field, and those instincts served him well when they screamed at him to dive. Without hesitation, Swift angled down toward the ground as a massive, clawed paw reached out of the clouds for Sir Kendrick.

The grasping appendage missed him by so close a margin that he felt the pressure of it in passing as it snatched nothing but empty air and a couple of Swift's tail feathers. An enraged bellow shattered the quiet as the owner of that paw came tearing out of the clouds in pursuit.

Fear snatched at Kendrick's soul as he saw what had almost claimed his life.

A Dragon.

No one had seen a dragon in living human memory, but the tactical doctrine for dealing with these beasts was well established. Dragons were often slightly slower than a griffin, but had vastly greater endurance and patience. In groups, griffins would use their superior maneuverability and climbing ability to swarm a dragon under and force it to retreat since they were rarely able to actually kill one. In smaller numbers they were to use those advantages to escape.

The dragon came screaming after them in a dive angled to intercept them as Swift leveled out to get a grip on the situation. The griffin snapped over in a tight turn at the last minute, causing the dragon to go barreling past them, snatching futilely at his elusive prey.

"Up" Kendrick murmured to his friend. The puffy clouds might very well allow them to lose their pursuer he hoped as the pair climbed higher into the air.

The cold touch of the clouds shocked calm into Kendrick's frantic, fear filled thoughts. He was thankful the charm he wore allowed him to breath normally in the rarified air and knew that he would have to report this soon, just in case they weren't able evade their pursuer. Kendrick's head broke through the clouds and his eyes widened in shock. MORE dragons flew in majestic formation above him, making their way towards the ork Horde.

The shriek of frustration that came from below alerted the flying force to his presence as the first dragon burst into view behind them. The other dragons turned into dives that would allow them to surround Kendrick, and in his heart he knew there was no other choice.

"Play Dead!" He shouted above the ruckus.

Swift responded instantly, doing a snap dive, and then pulling in his wings as he took them into a terminal dive.

The damp chill of the cloud reminded him of how close he was to death at this moment as he and his friend dove straight for the ground. The dragons tore after them as they desperately made their way toward the questionable safety of the forest.

With a silent prayer to Destreda, Kendrick activated his bloodstone sphere and began his report. "Base, this is Recon 3-1. Acknowledge."

After only a second or two a reply came. "Recon 3-1 this is base, go ahead."

Kendrick took a deep breath as the ground swelled in his vision. "Base, be advised I have spotted upwards of 6, repeat 6 dragons on a course for the valley. Acknowledge."

Silence answered him for a moment before another voice took the place of the first. "Confirm that Recon 3-1!" The voice snapped.

"I say again, upwards of 6 dragons en route to the valley Base." Kendrick shouted over the rushing wind. "We are currently being pursued by, " he turned to look back and get a quick count "4 dragons. We are attempting to go to ground and evade them."

"Acknowledged." The voice says. "Thank you Recon 3-1, I owe you one. Good luck and the blessings of the gods be upon you."

"Thanks base, Recon 3-1 clear." Kendrick's mouth split in a death's head grin. "Well my friend, " he said as he shut down the sphere "it looks like we are in for the ride of our life!"

He felt Swift shiver in agreement as his defiant call followed them into the top of the tree line.

"Damn." Andy said quietly.

"A fair assessment Highness." General Anastona agreed. "I have already sent extra troops to the forward defenses, they are prepared to engage in a fighting retreat." He paused and gestured towards the map table. "The orks have shown no sign of advancing yet, but I can only assume they are waiting for the arrival of the dragons before beginning. If at all possible I would like to get them to kick off early and wear them down on the fight over the pass. If our troops are caught in there, they will be easy targets for the dragons."

"The only other alternative would be to abandon our defense in depth and take them head on against our walls." Andy said with a shrug. "I don't think we're ready, but it's not really up to me at this point is it?" A slight, nervous, chuckle ran around the command tent. "How far along are we on the grenades and cocktails?" He asked.

Earlon spoke up quickly. "We have approximately 300 grenades, not counting those used in the cocktails." He shrugged. "We can continue to make more as the battle goes on, since we are really only using specialists on them anyway. As far as the cocktails go, we have managed to get the full load of 500 that you requested Highness."

Andy grunted in satisfaction and turned back to Anastona. "What's the status on our preparations here?" He asked.

"Marshal O'meneri is out there now organizing what we have available. He has brought out about a dozen of the ballista you inspired and has them under cover as you ordered."

"Baron Aram, do we still have the dragons under observation?" He asked turning to the commander of the Sky Knights.

"Yes Highness." He said quietly. "I have further instructed them to distract the dragons and to attempt to delay them as much as possible. Regardless of their success in that, we will know precisely when they will arrive."

"Any word on Sir Kendrick?" Andy asked. He was concerned about the brave scout that had brought word of the coming danger.

"No Highness." The Baron said quietly. "I will keep you informed if we hear anything."

Andy nodded again, and then straightened his shoulder. "Alright then gentlemen, let us get down to the details."

"I hate humans." Ter'Zhull spat. He saw the humans massing troops shouted taunts at his warriors, and just KNEW that it was going to wreck his carefully laid plans. In ill humor, he watched Kotar approach him. The War-Chief's eyes were like stone; to anyone who knew him it was obvious he was frustrated and angry.

"Great One, I think we will have to launch our assault early." Kotar said, anger grating his voice.

"The Ash and his underlings are not here yet, we need to wait for them." Ter'Zhull said.

"I agree with you Great One, but it's the warriors." Kotar gestured at the massed orks who were even now readying themselves for battle. "You know as well as I do that they are going to want to attack NOW. The humans are baiting us, but if they keep on with this our warriors are going to attack whatever we do. If we lead them into it, at least we will be able to maintain a semblance of control."

Ter'Zhull snarled in anger. "I know." He said after a moment. "Perhaps you are right, get ready to..."

What the Shaman was about to say died on his lips as he saw the human troops pull longbows out and sent a long-range volley into his warriors before withdrawing behind their defenses.

"Shit!" Kotar said feelingly as the shafts rose into the air.

The volley was not likely to be particularly accurate at this range, nor was it likely to kill many soldiers, but it wasn't necessary in this case. As the arrows rained from the sky, some warriors were wounded, and a few of the unlucky ones were killed outright but the greatest effect it had was to enrage the Horde.

Exactly as the human officers had intended all along.

Ter'Zhull swore as his warriors roared in rage and surged after the humans. He saw Kotar sprinting to catch his troops and try to keep some semblance of order, but knew deep down that was unlikely. He had intended to use the dragons to sweep the pass so that his force could advance unhindered and then use them in support of his final assault. That plan was now defunct, and he was going to have to fight his way down the entire length of the pass, bleeding warriors every step of the way.

He closed his eyes to calm himself as he reached onto the end of his staff and caressed the crystal there. It was time to open his self to the soul trapped within, for he would need its power if he encountered the Gestalt again.

"They've gone for it Your Highness." Anastona said with quiet satisfaction.

"So it would seem." Andy said. He was once more girded with the armor his spell created, and his swords were tucked at his side. "You know what to do here General, I'm heading for the wall."

Anastona saw the Paladin's amongst the Prince's guard go stiff at the declaration. "Highness that might not be the best idea."

Andy smiled grimly. "It's necessary." He held up a hand to forestall any arguments. "You can direct the battle without me, and the men on the wall will need a symbol to maintain morale. We aren't pulling back this time, so it's for all the marbles." He shrugged. "Besides, if their shamans try anything funny, I will be in a position to cut them off at the knees." He grinned as he laid his left hand on his sword hilts. "Possibly even literally."

Anastona looked into Andy's eyes and saw the intransigence there. He knew this was one argument he had lost from the beginning, so all he could do is bow out gracefully and try to remind the Heir not to get his fool head bashed in.

"Just try not to die Highness." Anastona said quietly. "You'd kill the morale of this army and the King would have my head on a silver platter."

"Oh, I don't think you need to worry about that." Andy said cheerfully. "If I get killed, we will probably have already been over run, so the orks will take care of that little detail." He reached out and slapped the general on his shoulder. "See, there's a bright side to everything."

Anastona shook his head as Andy turned to walk out of the command tent, followed closely by his guards.

Andy waved to the troops and civilians who were helping the defenders as he went passed. Frequently he would pause to speak to a group of soldiers, encouraging some, giving advice or orders to others. Each soldier who spoke with him was left with the subtle effect of both the magic that Andy wove over himself which lent each soldier a stiffening of his or her resolve and confidence. As he ascended the wall, he looked out over the busy preparation for defense that his people were engaged in.

A slight smile touched his lips as he considered how this place had changed his life. Perhaps more accurately gave him a life of his own. His thoughts were interrupted by the voice at his side.

"Why am I not surprised to find you here?" E'rin said coolly.

Andy shrugged. "It is where I am needed."

"Then it is where I am needed as well." He met Andy's gaze as his husband's gaze snapped around to look at him. "They need to see us together, and I will do my duty to you."

Andy's lips thinned in displeasure as he looked at the elf he married only a day before. He knew damn well that there was no way to get E'rin to leave unless he left as well. He sighed in resignation and nodded.

"Thank you." He said with quiet sadness.

Despite himself, Ter'Zhull felt the exhilaration of battle fill him. He was even more excited at the report of his agents from the human camp. The two princes had married (who was to know that the fake was no fake at all?), and a plan executed by the reporting spy had succeeded in creating a rift between the couple that would destroy their harmony and deny them access to the power that the Cycle would normally have lent them.

And when he took them, he would take their souls and he would be elevated above all others. "This world is God's!" He shouted in excitement.

The orks approach was, to say the least, unimaginative. They simply rushed the humans headlong without the slightest thought in their anger-fogged brains about the possible consequences of such rash action. A storm of arrows hit them short of the human defense lines, slowing the Horde slightly while filling them with greater fury. The survivors roared their rage and charged right into the caltrops that the humans had dropped in the Horde's path as they retreated.

The sharp implements slowed the lead groups dramatically as the pain of their spikes lamed the warriors. None of this stopped the following orks, who pushed the comrades ahead of them in an unstoppable tide. These wounded orks were the first to discover that sharpened stakes do, in fact, hurt when you find yourself driven onto them by the press of bodies behind you.

The screams of the lead orks were drown out by the overwhelming roar of the Horde as they were pushed further onto those terrible defenses. All the while the human behind the spikes began thrusting their long spears into any of those who tried to climb over their less fortunate comrades to reach the human lines.

Blood soaked the ground, which had turned into a gore filled mud under the trampling feet of the orks, not that they paid it much attention, as they pressed onward.

As the spearmen held the front, the Archers had already withdrawn behind the next series of barricades that were already manned by the reserve infantry. At a relayed message passed by the bloodstone that each archer wore, the group fired a massed volley over the heads of the humans holding back the orks.

When that rain of arrows descended on the warriors, their front ranks evaporated like mist as the storm of projectiles cut them down. The infantry finished off those who were still nearby, and then on command retreated back to the third barricade as the archers covered their withdrawal.

This fighting retreat was repeated over and over as the humans drew the orks deeper into the pass. The strategy behind the retreat had been to ensure that the orks would follow them unto the wall itself, where the REAL battle would begin. There, they would have the mountains to ensure that there could be no flank attack, and the defenses layered into the pass would prevent the orks from making use of any cavalry they might have left.

So far the tactic seemed to be working, and the soldiers in the pass were of two minds as to whether or not that was a good thing. Unfortunately, their opinion of the situation was unlikely to persuade the orks to find their entertainments elsewhere, so they went about the business of seeing to it that their visitors continued to be amused.

Anastona swore feelingly as the map reflected the scouts' reports. The orks were only 3/4 of the way down the pass and company was coming.

"Your Highness, the lead dragon will be here in less 10 minutes and our scouts are reporting that ork reinforcements have begun speeding up and will be here within an hour."

Andy stood upon the wall overlooking the fighting in the pass and scowled. "I am trying to decide, and failing, which part of that I like the least." He said almost conversationally. He sighed. "Very well general, I had intended to get the people on the wall under cover when our party crashers showed up, but I think we are going to have to stand out here to give the critter something more interesting to come after than the people in the pass."

"I'm not sure I like that Your Highness." Anastona said carefully. "It's been a very long time since we have seen dragons in open combat, we aren't completely sure what they can do."

"Gigantic flying lizards with huge teeth, massive claws that can breathe fire and most likely can use magic." Andy said, ticking off things on his fingers. "I think that about covers it don't you think?"

He heard Anastona gasp in shock. "We had legends of dragons in my world too General." He said calmly. "So I'm going to have to assume the worst and go with my belief that they can do that much at least. We are just going to have to work with what we learn as we go along I'm afraid. In any case, if I start running for cover, imagine what the soldiers are going to do."

"Very well Highness." He heard Anastona sigh. "Just be careful."

"I have no intention of being anyone's midday snack General." Andy said cheerfully.

"You would most likely do unfortunate things to the dragon's digestion in any case." E'rin said from behind him.

Andy grinned.

Embarosta'kerlon was a proud, some might say arrogant, dragon. Known casually as Ember, he had a reputation for cruelty in his 'play' with lesser creatures.

Truthfully though, Ember was actually fascinated with the behavior or those lesser creatures. Before Kerlack had saved Ember, the false god Omar had assigned him duties gathering information about the social behavior of the various races. As much as he knows he resented his enslavement, the dragon found the actual work itself intriguing. Once freed from his oppression, and able to act as he wished, Embarosta'kerlon had continued, even expanded, his research.

Even in battle, he studied the reactions of his prey. He enjoyed learning more about those he killed and used what he learned to terrifying effect in each subsequent encounter with others of the same species.

Humans, he had learned, were likely to be scattered by his mere presence. Ashenteriaeon'zhurlon had sent him here to break the human resistance in order to allow the orks to sweep in and secure the defenses so that they could reduce this town, and it's inhabitants, to a memory.

Not being one to waste effort unnecessarily, Ember decided that the most effective (and convenient) tactic would be a low altitude over fly that would not require him to fatigue himself while still allowing him to study the reactions of the humans and elves below.

As he swept in, his eye caught a figure standing in unusual armor on the top of the wall. His keen vision made out the figure, and those around him, in exquisite detail. It seemed obvious that this was an important individual, possibly even one of the two princes that he had been warned to leave unharmed. As he approached, he took note of an elf standing nearby, with a strong contingent of professional looking elves standing watchfully around.

These then would almost certainly be both of the aforementioned princes, and Ember silently congratulated himself on choosing an excellent tactic from the outset.

Silently, he hummed a tune to himself as he dived in for a close flyby. It was then that he caught notice of the movement going on behind the wall. Bemused by this odd behavior, Ember wondered what they were up to.

The answer he got was unexpected to say the least.

The ground crews had been forewarned about the dragon's approach, and they were as ready as they could possibly be. Their specially designed gimbals, created by the wizards, allowed them to rotate the massive siege engines easily, giving them the ability to fire almost directly upwards if they chose. Grimly, the siege engineers brought their weapons to bear, each hoping desperately that the Prince was right about their effectiveness.

A deep instinctive warning shot through Ember as he flew over the wall. A great sense of personal danger, the likes of which he had never felt before assailed him, telling him that there was great danger on the ground. His natural reaction to this instinct, a hold over from their data gathering abilities granted to dragons by Omar when he created them, was to pull up and climb for the sky. It was the worst thing he could possibly have done.

As the crews watched, hoping for a good shot, the dragon pulled up sharply and began clawing for altitude. The low glide that had carried him over the wall prevented Ember from gaining any altitude quickly and served only to make him what amounted to a stationary target for the humans who already had him in their sights.

Virtually simultaneously the six-readied ballista fired. The first bolt was fired in surprise, and passed completely under the dragon and embedded itself into the breastwork of the wall, barely missing a shocked soldier who was too awestruck by the dragon to notice his near miss. The second and third bolts penetrated the dragon's wings. One tore a ragged hole in the right wing, while the other lodged itself deep in the joint where the wing met the body. This paralyzed the wing and drew the dragon into a clumsy looped dive.

The fourth bolt struck the dragon in the abdomen, tearing into the stomach wall, unleashing the volatile stomach acid into the dragon's body cavity. The fifth struck the right breastplate that guarded the dragon's heart. At such a close range, the spring steel launched bolt punched through that tough armor as if it were tissue paper, barely grazing the dragon's heart as it blew out Ember's back.

A crew that had been utterly unable to get its weapon properly adjusted fired the final bolt. Had the dragon maintained it's previous course, they would have missed it cleanly as the weapon's elevation was too high. The dragon's maneuver had taken then completely surprised them, and they failed to compensate when they fired.

Dragon bones are, by weight, amongst the hardest substances ever created. Even at such close range and with such high velocity, it would be highly unlikely that the bolt would have penetrated the dragon's skull. As it happened however, Ember's desperate climb opened an opportunity for a clean shot at his jaw, which is exactly where the misaimed bolt went.

Much like in a human, the lower part of a dragon's jaw is not bone. It is comprised of cartilage and various other soft tissues. Neither of these was at all likely to stop the bolt, which caught Ember cleanly in the jaw where the jaw met his neck. The angle of the bolt carried it deep into the dragon's skull, ripping into Ember's brain as it penetrated. When it encountered the top of the dragon's skull, the steel tip shattered against its hard surface, blowing shards back into the brain, shredding it completely.

Combined with the crippled wing, the blow to the head snapped the dragon back over, driving the corpse that had once been Embarosta'kerlon face first into the ground.

A massive cheer rose from the assembled troops as the shock of the incredible feat wore off. They had slain a Dragon!

Andy's shoulders slumped as he sighed in relief. He had been sickened at the thought of what the dragon would do to the men he had intentionally left exposed on the wall. The fact that the dragon had been slain without the loss of a single soldier was a special miracle for which he would always be grateful.

Smiling grimly, Andy fixed the mempo of the armor into place, enclosing his head almost completely in the fearsome demon face that the mempo formed. He activated the bloodstone in his helmet and addressed the Host. "All right people, the fun's over. It's time to get down to the business of killing orks!"

Shock was a pale, anemic word to describe what Ter'Zhull felt at that moment.

The exultation he had felt at the sight of the dragon swooping down from the sky toward the human defenses was now a distant memory. The anticipation of the terrific carnage that only a dragon was capable of had burned his soul with the desire to see the humans pay for daring to stand in his way.

He noticed the dragon pull up suddenly, and then pitch backwards to fly straight into the ground. It was then that the entire battle started to come apart on him. It was impossible for the warriors to NOT notice the dragon's sudden demise. No one could fail to notice the majestic creature as it glided over the pass any more than they could miss the titanic tremor that passed through the ground as the twitching corpse of that same dragon slammed into the ground seconds after it had passed the human walls.

Normally, orks aren't unduly burdened by such unimportant matters as danger, tactical problems, or the mortality of people around them. They gleefully ride the tide of a berserk frenzy that is only broken by exhaustion, death, or a direct threat to their own survival. In the case of the large wall the humans had built, the charging orks were faced with something large, imposing, and apparently capable of swatting dragons out of the air with contemptuous ease.

In a quantum leap in forward thinking for their species, the vast majority of the Horde realized that anything that could smash a dragon so quickly would not find them to be much of a challenge either. Such a direct, personal danger quickly snapped the orks out of their frenzy and several of the Horde began to remember urgent appointments elsewhere.

It started slowly. At first, the Horde slowed, then stopped completely. As the implications of the dragon's demise sank in, combined with the unabated storm of arrows coming from the humans (the fact that the humans didn't seem shocked by the outcome only heightened their fear) began to convince many to find their entertainment elsewhere. More and more warriors began to retreat, following the example of their fellows.

"Damn." Andy said softly as his bloodstone activated.

"This is a problem Highness." General Anastona said. "As good for morale as driving the orks off would be, it would only give them time to reorganize and recover."

"I know." Andy said quietly. "After all the men have done to wear them down it seems a shame to waste all that effort." He sighed. "It's against my better judgment, but we may have no choice but to sally forth and harry them into the ground."

"The defenses which kept them from deploying cavalry will work against us as well." Anastona reminded him. "We'd have to do it with infantry."

Andy nodded. "Yes, and if the orks suddenly got their shit together there would be no way we could retreat back here."

Marshal O'meneri broke in. "I think we should stand fast and see what the orks do. I have the utmost confidence that Ter'Zhull will be able to rally his warriors quickly and herd them into the trap for us. He has to know that the dragons are almost here, and I don't think they would be too happy to see his troops retreating and leaving all the work to them."

Andy looked at E'rin, who returned his gaze with expressionless eyes and shrugged. "Alright then, let's just hold for now. I don't like the idea of how long this is going to make the war drag out, but I agree we don't want to hang our main field force out to twist in the breeze either."

Anastona acknowledged the decision and excused himself to pass orders to the officers.

Andy quietly cursed the Demon Murphy.

Kotar strode up to Ter'Zhull who was still reeling in shock.

"Great One!" He shouted. Seeing no response from his leader, the War Chief took a great risk and shook Ter'Zhull's shoulder. "GREAT ONE!"

Anger and outrage snapped Ter'Zhull from his trance, eyes filled with the promise of death snapped toward Kotar. Realizing that the War Chief was only bringing him to his senses, Ter'Zhull shook his head to clear his mind. "Thank you Kotar."

"Great One, the Horde is beginning to flee." Kotar said. "You must decide if we are to retreat and regroup, or try to rally the warriors and continue the assault."

Ter'Zhull looked at his senior war leader. "What would you do Kotar?" He asked.

Kotar sighed, and looked at the slowly disintegrating Horde. "I would retreat for now Great One. The morale of our warriors is shot and we need time to get them back into shape. You can use this an object lesson of why they should hold themselves back until you release them to battle as well." He shrugged. "On the downside, it is quite possible you won't be able to ever get them to come back here again. The memory of what just happened isn't likely to fade from the mind of even the dimmest of our warriors." Again he shrugged.

"If we rally the troops, can we still take this place?" Ter'Zhull asked.

Kotar considered that for a moment, and then nodded slowly. "Yes Great One, I think we can, but the casualties will most likely be catastrophic at this point."

"The problem is that the dragon which just came to a very bad end before our eyes, is only the scout for the rest of them." He saw Kotar nod in acknowledgement. "Ashenteriaeon'zhurlon would be... unhappy if he arrived and saw us in retreat, and he is likely to express his discontent by attacking our warriors." He sighed. "I could kill them of course, but that would only be doing the humans a favor. I don't think we have much choice but to rally and continue the attack."

Kotar grimaced in disgust. He had been against calling in the dragons here in the first place. He had felt that they would be better used working over the fortress city of Hereon while they finished off the field force here. Unfortunately, Ter'Zhull wanted the head of those who had been behind the battle on the Meredo plains and he wasn't going to take no for an answer.

"As you command Great One." He saluted. "I will need your help, and the help of the Shamans to rally the warriors."

Ter'Zhull nodded. "I will show them that they should fear both myself and God more than they fear any human."

"As you say Great One." Kotar said as he turned to go about his duty.

The ork's idea of discipline was simple and direct, even if it was a bit... extreme.

The Shaman's used their power to lash at the orks who were bound to them, driving them back to the battle. For those who were more resistant to this gentle persuasion, the Shaman's used more graphic examples.

Some of those who continued to flee ran into clouds of toxins that were woven from thin air. Other's found their bodies filled with incredible agony, while some simply exploded into a shower of blood and body parts. Not only did the Shaman's indiscriminately unleash their power on their own warriors, they made it painfully obvious that they were just as willing to slaughter their own people as the human's were.

The watching human troops were appalled by the methods that the shamans used to control their troops. It would have been even more appalling if they knew that it was common. It was only the draconian methods that the shamans used to keep power and the tribal wars that kept the insane ork birth rates from overwhelming the entire continent.

It was effective though, and the warriors recoiled from the fury of their shamans. Slowly, the Shamans managed to browbeat the warriors into returning to battle, even if it was with far less enthusiasm than before. Fear is an effective goad, but not a great motivator.

Fortunately for the humans, the ork warriors were far more timid in their assaults and human casualties dropped dramatically while the ork losses mounted faster than before.

Eventually, the battle line made it's way to the wall itself, and the humans, supported by a storm of fire from the walls, disengaged from their opponents, and withdrew through the gates to the dubious safety of the walls. The orks, still hesitant with the image of the dead dragon firmly in mind, declined to attempt pursuit.

Andy watched calmly as the last of the soldiers made it through the gate, and the massive stone block was guided into place by the power of the wizards assigned that duty. With a resounding boom, the block locked into it's slot, securely plugging the only entryway through the wall that blocked off the pass.

"Alright gentlemen." Andy said as he activated a general broadcast sphere. "We need to be about this quickly. This is not going to be a siege. We are going to lure the orks into attacking, and we are going to smash them here and now, and we need to do it quickly. There are more orks coming in support of this group, as well as a few more dragons." He grinned fiercely. "I think you have seen how we'll handle those visitors, but it's important that we aren't distracted from that minor task by the orks at the gate."

Andy heard several of the nearby soldiers chuckle at his comments, and he allowed himself to join them. "Alrighty then, let's get to it."

It took almost half an hour for Ter'Zhull and his shamans to work enough magic to boost the courage of his warriors and begin to rekindle the berserk rage that could drive them forward. Normally, Ter'Zhull would have preferred a more organized approach, but at this point it would be enough to actually get the warriors to fight at all.

Orders were simple: Charge forward and kill human or elf that gets in your way. Scaling ladders were brought forward and drums began to beat.

The orks charged.

For a brief moment, Andy felt something akin to guilt over what he was about to do. After all, he had formed the basis for the strategy to lure the orks here, to suck them into the pass and crush them completely. His sense of guilt was more over the deceit he had perpetrated, for he knew the orks were expecting a stand up fight, when really all the pass, with it's multi-layered defenses and bastion at the end was little more than a terribly elaborate trap.

He watched the orks charge forward, making sure that everyone understood that they were not to fire under any circumstances until he ordered it. Closer the orks came, in a massive wave of screaming doom, lusting for the blood of his soldiers. Then, the front rank passed the mark he had firmly in mind, and he said a single word of condemnation. "Fire."

Andy's quiet command unleashed the most terrible storm of firepower yet seen. The ranked archers fired a massed volley, arched to achieve maximum distance, which placed their attack deep into the charging orks. The volley was on its way down with the forty arbalests fired. Twelve HUNDRED, 3 food long shafts, driven by the spring steel launcher, flew forth from the rifled firing ports in the wall. The riffling that the wizards had built into the wall imparted a spin on the bolts as they passed through. Andy had been shocked to discover just how much the people here understood the basics of ballistics without ever having even conceived of firearms. Those spinning bolts reached their maximum velocity just before they hit the lead ranks of the ork charge.

The high-speed projectiles tore through those lead orks as if they were tissue paper. Passing entirely through their bodies reduced their velocity, but hardly enough to make any difference to those behind them. The bolts cut deep into the front wave, washing it away, just as the massed volley impacted those just behind them.

The shock of the sudden slaughter of their fellows caused most of the horde to slow its charge. Ironically, if they had continued on, they would have been relatively safe. As it was, they were sitting directly in the area the archers had chosen as their target zone.

The screaming multiplied as those arrow cut down the few survivors who had begun to flee the murderous fire from the wall as well as those who had stopped in shock. Orks fell in piles on the blood-soaked ground. But the humans hadn't been content with just that terrible hurricane of fire.

It was a common spell for wizards who specialized in the working of Earth magics. The spell was able to release the potential energy of a stone in a single, explosive, instant. Any kind of "stone" could be used, but the more inert that stone was, the more difficult it was to unleash it's energy and more inefficient that release wound up being. The spell could be placed in the stone, and held the "charge" for several days. Best of all, once charged, the stone could be detonated simply by throwing it.

Coal, it was discovered, was very efficient in it's release of energy. The coal released its energy very easily and was completely consumed in the process. This made its use in battle limited. The flash from its release was too quick and small to affect many people with more than light flash burns or disorientation. Eventually though, an apprentice War Mage speculated on it's uses as an igniter.

The idea took hold, and rather than lobbing pots of naphtha with rags stuffed in them to act as "fuses", armies began to put charged coal in the sealed pots. Launched from catapults, the pots would shatter on impact, spreading out a fluid that would almost instantly be ignited by the flash burst of the coal. This had an advantage during night battles (which were rare) because the catapults could fire the jars without revealing their positions with flaming containers. For practical purposes however, it wasn't really necessary, so most soldiers just made due with the soaked rag for an igniter.

The same apprentice then came up with an even more brilliant idea. At his suggestion, he took a sizable coal chunk, and covered it in clay, which he charged when hardened. Clay is a mostly inert material, so when the spell went off, virtually all of the clay survived the process unharmed, if structurally weakened. The coal however, instantly released its energy, contained within the weak ceramic shell. The force of even this small explosion was enough to shatter the ceramic coating, sending its sharp fragments out in a deadly burst of shrapnel.

Over 30 of these grenades launched from catapults behind the wall, deep into the enemy force. The long distance allowed the wind resistance to scatter the falling weapons, so that they achieved a nice spread pattern right behind the arrow volley.

The detonation was fairly small, but the effects of those flying shards were devastating. Chunks of sharpened clay sliced through flesh like a storm of razors, frequently crippling as opposed to killing its victims. All that remained after that terrible moment was a mass of screaming orks, slowly bleeding their life out into the already soaked ground of the abattoir that the humans had made of the pass.

Terrible as those attacks were, they only killed a small portion of the huge horde that continued to roll down the pass. The pounding feet of the coming forces trampled wounded and dead orks to paste and mixed it with the dirt to create a grotesque mud that clung to their legs.

The arbalests had reloading, while the catapults filled their launch cups with jars of naphtha. Unlike normal, these jars were very large, and only half full. On the suggestion of the Prince, Wizards who specialized in the use of Air magics filled the empty portions of those jars with pure oxygen.

Once the arbalests had fired, the catapults unleashed their cargo of death on the orks.

No one had ever considered the idea before. While they were well aware of the fact that the fumes from naphtha were actually more combustible than the liquid itself, they were not actually aware of what happened with those fumes mixed with oxygen and became spontaneously ignited.

Andy had gotten the idea from watching the History Channel's many military shows, explaining the way various weapons worked. It was an episode that described a Fuel-Air device that was behind the idea that they now used.

The charged coal in these jars detonated BEFORE impact. The release of energy began to vaporize the naphtha that quickly mixed with the oxygen in the container. This volatile gas ignited explosively, creating a blast that vaporized the ceramic container and engulfed the orks in a holocaust of fire and death.

The ground itself shook as SIX of these containers detonated at virtually the same time, tearing massive, ragged holes in the ranks of the orks. It flash dried the ground, seared flesh from bone, and blinded and deafened many others.

Ter'Zhull roared in rage and shock as the explosions ripped through his warriors. 'What magic is this?' He raged to himself. 'I sensed only a tiny release of power, nothing that could do such terrible damage!'

It seemed impossible, and after the dragon, there was no way the orks were interested in taking on the humans after that massacre. There was only one thing to do.

The supreme leader of the ork nation yelled out a battle cry, and charged into battle.

For a few seconds, surprise overwhelmed fear as the warriors saw their leader charging the enemy. Hope overwhelmed surprise, and as one, the orks charged once more.

"It's him." Andy said calmly to no one in particular.

"Indeed." E'rin said with equal calm. "You realize, of course, that if he dies it will break the back of the Horde. Without him, they will fall back into their individual tribes once more."

"The thought had occurred to me." Andy replied with a nasty smile. "Feel like taking a stroll?" He asked casually, drawing his Katana.

"After you." E'rin said, and pulled out a small rod which he had prepared for just this moment.

Bladedancers had long ago developed a spell by which they could surround their swords with an aura of energy. This aura strengthened the blade and increased its edge, which allowed them to cleave through their opponents only effortlessly.

After many talks with Andy, hearing stories about his world and the things he found interesting, E'rin had received an inspiration from hearing about mystic warriors that Andy had called 'Jedi'. These warriors wielded a fantastic blade of pure energy that cut through anything it encountered, yet had no mass. It occurred to him that if one were to increase the focus of the spell that strengthened a Bladedancer's sword, and used it WITHOUT the sword, he might be able to form a blade of pure, mystic energy. It had taken a great deal of time and effort, and E'rin had been further hampered by the fact that he kept the process a secret so as to better surprise Andy.

His primary difficulty came from the fact that it originally required a tremendous amount of his magical power and concentration. While using the blade, he was unable to utilize his magic for any other purpose, which would seriously hamper his abilities in combat. He had finally discovered that by channeling the power of his own spirit into it, the blade became practical.

He sensed a swell of shock coming from Andy when he activated the spell. The surge of energy was accompanied by a tearing snarl of power as the blade of pure eldritch energy formed in his hands. His face formed into an impish grin at the look of astonishment in Andy's eyes as he took in the golden weapon that E'rin had wrought. Remembering another detail that Andy had mentioned in their long talks, E'rin made a comment that should give credit where credit was due.

"May the Force be with you." E'rin said.

The soldiers wondered in a corner of their brain if Prince Andy might be stark raving mad. His order to sally forth and charge the enemy had been passed with a voice filled with mirth, and he had followed his own order by leaping off the wall, followed by his elvin bodyguards and Prince E'rin, and charged straight into the teeth of the attacking Horde filled with an unarguable certainty that it was what was needed.

Frantic orders were passed as General Anastona, Marshal O'meneri and Lord Dera'Lione cursed the insanity of the act. Troops were mobilized, and wizards were summoned to move the massive stone block that served as a gate.

Sir Lance had no time to wait for the gate, and he urged Starstrider into a gallop. The E'teriel surged forward at top speed, moving with sure-footed grace up the ramp to the top of the wall and leapt straight off. The pair landed with ease as the E'teriel's powerful legs absorbed the shock of landing effortlessly.

Magister Earlon and A'rion followed in the insanity, knowing that above all they had to make sure those two princes survived, if for no other reason than to give everyone else a crack at those two.

Twenty-five people charged thousands, aiming for just one individual.

Andy and E'rin encountered the orks first. Their blades moved in perfect, flowing attacks that sliced through bone and flesh with a casual ease.

E'rin moved with the unconscious grace of a dancer, causally evading attacks and responding with blows that sheared warriors in half as Andy strode by his side with the implacability of a juggernaut. The armor his spell had formed was patterned after a type meant to resist the attacks of a Katana's perfect blade, and the normally crushing blows of the orks were shed like a gentle rain.

Earlon and A'rion danced in unison, cutting into the orks around them and lashing out with spells of devastating power as they went.

Lance and Starstrider were a tsunami of motion. The Paladin's enchanted sword swung in gleaming arcs, claiming lives with every stroke as his steed lashed out with steel-hard hooves and powerful teeth destroying everything in their path.

All around and about these pairs the Bladedancers moved with the blinding speed of a snake. They danced around the orks, crippling and killing any who dared come in reach, holding open the path of retreat and protecting the flanks of their charges.

Not that either of them noticed of course. As the fighting went on, E'rin let himself ride the Song of Steel within his soul releasing his body fully to its guidance. Surrendering to the Song destroyed the final barrier between E'rin and his new husband. The power flowed from him into Andy and back again, joining them closer than anyone would have thought possible and making the whole far greater than the sum of it's parts. The power of a Sorcerer flowed into E'rin as the Song of Steel filled Andy, and just as Earlon and A'rion, they began to dance.

The pair flowed in perfect harmony, each complementing the other's moves precisely, providing strength were the other was weak, protection where the other was vulnerable, and perfect love where there was fear and despair. In this moment, both realized that marriage was not about law, nor money, or any other mundane issue. It was not about morality or prudence. It was about taking two separate beings, and making them one in the eyes of the gods and their fellow mortals.

This was the power of The Cycle which the shaman Ter'Zhull so coveted, never knowing it was a force that was so utterly alien to both himself and his god that they could never draw upon it without being forever changed by it. Even now, Ter'Zhull did not know this simple truth and he saw those he desired coming right at him of their own accord.

With a savage gesture, the Shaman unleashed his power to clear a path through his own warrior for the pair coming so willingly into his grasp. As the orks were hurled aside, Ter'Zhull reached for the power of the soul trapped within the crystal and began to draw off of it to power his most terrible spell.

He smiled as the two came at him without hesitation, the fleet-footed elf leading the way. The ork knew that it would be easier to take this one. The human, he had learned from his agent, was a true Sorcerer and in love with the elf. His paramour's fate should devastate him, regardless of the enmity that stood between them and that would allow Ter'Zhull to have them both.

E'rin's instincts cried warnings to him, but not even the Song could guide him safely past the threat that embraced him. The weavings of the ork's spell plunged into his body and tore him with an agony beyond description. Out of the corner of his pain hazed vision he saw Andy stumble as a shadow of that pain transmitted to him. Then all went dark, as the dreadful spell of the Shaman plucked out the soul of E'rinAsane'ta, Crown Prince of the elves.

Andy felt it happen. He knew instantly what had occurred and who was responsible and he was filled not with the crushing despair that Ter'Zhull had expected of him, but with the implacable fury that defied description. With only a moment's hesitation his blade moved up in a swift and purposeful arc.

Ter'Zhull's exaltation was momentarily stifled by the resistance of the soul imbued in his crystal as it fought to keep him from using it against the elf. He had taken the elf's soul and only the Sorcerer remained. The Shaman's eyes turned to gaze in triumph at the shattered wreck of a human his attack had left.

To his surprise, all he saw was the merciless blade of a sword.

Andy's attack was aimed not at the ork, but at the staff he was holding to so tightly. His senses screamed to him that this was the focus for much of the power that the shaman had wielded and taking it from him would be a nice first installment on the lifetime of pain that Andy fully intended to give Ter'Zhull in repayment for his efforts.

No one could have anticipated the results of his attack. The situation was completely unique in fact. No one had ever managed to capture a soul before, let alone turn it into a power source and the soul in question here was very powerful indeed. Many would speculate that if Andy's sword had not born the cutting power he had learned instinctually from E'rin, or the subtle enchantments he had laid into it as it was forged, it might have bounced harmlessly off the surface of the crystal.

But whether it was the magic in and around the blade, the sheer fury of his strike, or even the resistance of the soul's of E'rin and the crystals prisoner was beside the point. For whatever reason, the blade smashed the crystal adorning Ter'Zhull's staff, shattering it into thousands of fragments. Nor did the release of that power do any good for the sword. Tough and resilient though a Katana was even one inlaid with the magics that Andy had woven could not withstand the shock of destroying that crystal and the blade shattered as its target did.

Andy dropped to his knees as the surge of power numbed his arms, and pain shot through his body. He stared up at the ork, his eyes full of rage, and watched the events unfold.

The spell that had snatched E'rin's soul had not yet bound it into the crystal. Thanks both to the perfect bond he had established with Andy, and the spiritual energy he had invested in the blade that had carried him through the battle, the prince's soul snapped back into his body with shocking force.

E'rin's dull eyes were filled once more with animation and pain as he returned to the empty vessel from which he had been so recently torn. Andy was instantly aware of his revival, and a surge of love and assurance eased the trauma the spell had inflicted on him.

The most spectacular effect of the crystal's destruction was the released of the imprisoned soul. The spell that bound it to the crystal was destroyed with its prison, but the magic that allowed it to maintain cohesion and identity was still very much intact.

Prince Ethan Nickels was by nature a gentle soul, but some offenses could not be tolerated, or ignored. Ter'Zhull, chosen of Kerlack had used him for power and so Ethan intended to give that power to him in spades.

Ter'Zhull was reeling in shock as the spirit of the Prince he had slain and enslaved descended upon him. His muscles locked in agony as the power of the spirit tore through his body, overloading every particle of his being.

Unlike the fallen Prince however, Ter'Zhull had no spell maintaining his cohesion and he evaporated in a flash of eldritch light.

The power of a shaman can hold his warriors together under almost any circumstances. They are bound together in a subtle web of power that allows the shaman to draw energy from them to empower his spells and for those spells to more surely enhance the battle skills of his warriors.

This bond also provides the shaman a means to instill fear, courage, or virtually any other emotion into his warriors. This helps them maintain control of their people in times of peace and stiffen their resolve in times of war.

Finally, the bond creates a sense of community amongst orks who are, by and large, very simple and uncomplicated souls. Every warrior in a bond is subtly aware of every other individual in that bond, instinctively seeing him or her as friendly. This prevents internecine fighting amongst the lower orders of troops, which would tear a given tribe apart. Orks were generally inclined to kill anything that was not a part of their tribes as a matter of instinct.

When a warrior dies, the bond resonates slightly. The more warriors under his command a shaman has, the more it reduces the ability he has to sense the death of any one. Thus for Ter'Zhull, it was impossible for him to notice anything short of the mass death which had been inflicted on his people in the pass.

However, when a shaman dies, the bond is severed completely, leaving each ork utterly alone in the universe from his own perception. The sense of tribe, and tribal identity is stripped away and every ork is cut off from his fellows.

Shamans can also sense this, and tend to move swiftly to bond any who are nearby to create a sense of community, but until that happens, groups or orks tend to devolve into a chaotic free for all.

Ter'Zhull became the supreme leader of his people by either convincing, or coercing every other shaman into following his lead, passing control their bonds to him. Those who continued to resist were killed, and their bonds taken up by other shamans or Ter'Zhull himself. Thus, when the great shaman died, the Horde ceased to exist.

For a short time, every ork just simply stopped fighting. Many turned and looked around in confusion, trying to figure out what to do. After only a few second, the orks came to themselves and did what they did best.

They attacked everything in sight.

The battle transformed from a desperate fight on the part of a couple dozen individuals against a Horde, to a massive fur ball where almost everyone fought one another. The Bladedancer guards grabbed up E'rin and Andy, one even taking the time to collect the shards of Andy's sword, and the group made tracks back toward the wall.

Finally, the troops inside had gotten organized, and the wizards pulled out the stone plug. The soldiers, knowing that their princes were in danger, human and elf alike roared in rage at the sight of the pair being carried back in the arms of their guards, injured if not dead.

Without orders, or even a semblance of discipline the host surged forward to avenge their lords on the bodies of the orks who dared to harm them.

Sir Lance and Starstrider held up the rear as the small group rushed to the safety of the enraged army streaming towards them. For the most part, the orks were too busy killing each other to bother with look out for humans and elves to chase.

For those unwise few who did attempt to make trouble, it took minimal effort on the part of either Lance or his steed to smash the foolish ork. This allowed Lance a great deal of freedom to look around and take stock of the tactical situation.

It was all very good thus far. The orks had devolved into a mass brawl for the moment, and even though the Host was little better, at least they were only killing orks whereas the orks were killing each other as well. That happy circumstance wouldn't last forever though, and eventually shamans were going to start getting hold of their warriors again. But the Host was more likely to come under control first, and be able to withdrawal behind the wall in good order before the orks got their shit together.

As these thoughts occurred to him, he noticed a glowing figure moving through the mass or orks toward him. He felt Starstrider shiver beneath him, and snort. Lance could feel the discomfort radiating from him as the figure came closer.

It looked like a faintly shining image of a humanoid. It moved with calm purpose, occasionally reaching out to touch those involved in the fighting. Whenever it touched an elf or human, that individual's condition visibly improved. Pain and fatigue seemed to vanish; fallen soldiers rose to fight once more, and a calm sanity filled their eyes. When an ork came into contact with the figure, its body was wracked with terrible muscle spasms. So powerfully did their bodies spasm, their bones snapped under the strain, eventually killing even the strongest of them in terrible agony. The figure seemed to notice none of it.

Lance turned Starstrider to face the figure head-on. He held his sword casually, not feeling particularly threatened by the approaching figure. It came to a halt six feet in front of him in response to his silent, yet obvious, challenge.

The Paladin blinked, as the light seemed to dim and coalesce into a more natural state. It was then he saw the figure's face.

"How?" He asked, his voice full of wonder.

"Hello beloved." Said the spirit of Ethan. "I have missed you."

Lance sheathed his sword and dismounted. As he moved to step forward he felt Starstrider's presence in his mind.

'Do not go closer dear one.' The stallion said. 'There is something unnatural about this one.'

"What I am now is the product of the shaman's twisted magics Starstrider." Ethan said. "It has kept my spirit here, bound coherently together in defiance of the natural way." He chuckled. "I guess I'm sort of undead."

Lance reached out to the spirit of his love, and gasped as Ethan reached out and gripped his hand.

"It's difficult for me to be solid, but I can manage it for a time." The spirit looked around. "You should get back now, and start reigning in the soldiers. The shamans are starting to regain control."

Lance nodded, and climbed back aboard the E'teriel. He activated the bloodstone in his helmet to a general broadcast. "All units disengage and re-form beyond the wall. Repeat disengage and return to the wall." He turned off the stone, and then reached his hand out to Ethan. "Want a ride?" He asked casually.

"No thank you dear." Ethan said looking at the uncomfortable stallion. "I think it would be better if I went under my own power."

Lance nodded silently, and turned to follow his own order as the human troops broke off quickly and began to retreat. The elves stayed behind, covering their comrades' backs until they were too far away to intercept. Their superior agility and speed allowed them to quickly disengage and withdrawal.

Lance was keeping quiet as he tried to come to grips with the second greatest shock of his life. Losing Ethan had been devastating, and it was only his overwhelming need to do his duty, and the undiluted love and support of Starstrider that kept him from falling into the pit of black despair. But now, he was confronted with the unalterable fact of Ethan's demise by the presence of his spirit.

In part, Lance was glad to see his love. He knew, not just felt but KNEW on a deep level that the spirit was who it appeared to be. That meant that his love was stuck in this world, possibly forever. Since Ethan's death, Lance had held onto the notion that when he died, he could be with Ethan in the Heavens. If Ethan were bound to the mortal plain however, they would have a chance to be together while Lance was alive, but once he died they would likely be separated for all time.

As his thoughts became more morose, he felt the love and supportive encouragement of Starstrider flowing into him.

'Do not give into despair now dear one.' The stallion told him. 'Now that I have had a chance to judge him, the being is indeed your beloved. More so now than ever.'

'What?'

'The flesh has been stripped away, but the essence remains pure.' The stallion explained. 'He is a worthy one, even as you are. He has not given into hate or vengeance. He struck down Ter'Zhull from necessity to fulfill his duty to protect his people, not from any desire to avenge his suffering.' The E'teriel gave a mental shrug. 'Do not borrow troubles from the future dear one. For now you are reunited, however... unconventionally with your love. What will be, will be and you can deal with it when it happens.'

Lance smiled at the caviler attitude of the divine creature he rode and his mood lightened. He stopped Starstrider and reached out to Ethan, who floated nearby, once more.

"Please ride with me." He requested, his voice gentle and his eyes full of love and welcome.

Ethan smiled as the E'teriel nodded firmly in agreement and took his true love's hand.

Andy and E'rin both recovered quickly as the elvin magics restored their strength and vitality. The pair was nice and healthy when the time came to face the combined wrath of their general staff and advisors.

Duke Harmon, Dera'Lione, General Anastona, Marshal O'meneri, Magister Earlon and A'rion as well as their combined bodyguard unit were gathered together. On the edge of the gathering, Ethan and Lance stood quietly, waiting until the discussion turned to the fallen Prince.

The gathered individuals took turns verbally tearing strips of the couple's hides. Demands to know what, if anything they were thinking when they went hell-bent for glory into the face of the Horde, whether they had stopped to consider the needs of their men and nations before going off on their own and many other questions bombarded them.

The pair took the barrage calmly. They knew that genuine concern prompted the outbursts and took no offense, but it could only be allowed to go on for so long. Andy was about to bring the show to a halt when a voice beat him to it.

"Well, I for one am rather grateful." Ethan's voice effortlessly cut through the other voices in the tent. "Just in case you were wondering."

The various men in the room looked to the spirit that shared a face with the sorcerer from another world. They noticed differences now. Not so much a difference between Andy and Ethan as much as a difference in how Ethan was from how they remembered him.

A calm wisdom filled his eyes, a simple surety that must come with leaving one's mortal woes behind, the peace of the grave. It was a compelling change, and it lent his words great weight.

"He charged because he had a deep, instinctual feeling that it was necessary." Ethan said. "It was a feeling I gave him." He shrugged at the shocked looks directed at him. "I wasn't powerless, just imprisoned. When Ter'Zhull opened the prison to tap into my energy, he allowed me to reach out and affect the world myself. I knew he had to be stopped so I called to Andy and he responded." He grinned. "I also did everything I could to make sure they would make it there by manipulating the orks through their bond to Ter'Zhull."

"The practical upshot of it is that without Ter'Zhull the Horde is likely to break up, or at the very least lose its coordination." Andy said. "And the dragons are still on the way."

The Sky Knights had valiantly flown straight into the teeth of the dragons, delaying the main group of five for some time now. Eventually the griffins had started to become fatigued and been forced to withdraw before the dragons killed them off in job lots. They had bought a couple of precious hours for the Host to reduce the orks as much as possible, but time was quickly running out.

"Let us not forget that we have better things to do than discuss our actions." E'rin said calmly. "Let us be about our duties, and vent our emotions later."

"Or to put it more bluntly: 'Shut up and soldier'!" Andy said with a grin.

Most of the people in the pavilion chuckled at Andy's use of an old sergeants response to the complaints of young troops from time immemorial.

"I will do what I can to assist you." Ethan said as he walked up to Andy and E'rin. "My power is more... internalized than before, but if I can touch a dragon I should be able to incapacitate it." He looked right at E'rin. "Congratulations Your Highness at finding your true love in one that duty compelled you to marry." He smiled. "I too loved another, and I'm sure that you are as pleased at not having to marry me as I am."

E'rin snuggled himself up in Andy's spontaneous embrace and smiled in agreement.

Ashenteriaeon'zhurlon, known as Ash Lord of Dragon kind, was in a surly mood as he led his fellows into the area that Ter'Zhull had called him to support. The irritating distraction of the griffins and their riders had been too much of a danger to simply ignore, but its delay had allowed that idiot Ter'Zhull to get himself killed.

In the days before the savior Kerlack had liberated him, Ash had been a military theorist in the service of Omar. He could pick up a great many things about a battle by will alone, and the sudden death of Ember had attracted his attention.

Too much had gone past for him to know what had killed his scout, but he had plenty of time to see the unholy carnage that the humans had wrought upon the pathetic orks. Ash was very impressed, for it was rare for any race aside from dragons and the Mentazi warriors to unleash such devastation upon a foe. It might make the coming fight... interesting.

With a fierce rush of joy, Ash turned in to battle.

While expected, the arrival of the dragons was hardly a morale booster for the Host. They had too much on their minds at the time to worry about it though, because the shamans who had managed to establish some control of the orks had chosen that moment to renew the assault on the wall. Having a massive, bloodthirsty ork attempting to cave your skull in with an axe would tend to focus anyone's thoughts quickly on the task at hand.

Ash admired the professionalism that humans demonstrated. Servant of Kerlack or no, he would always be a militarist and that left him with nothing but contempt for the half-assed tactics of the orks. Ter'Zhull might have changed that if he'd been less of an idiot and rushed straight at what had to be the deadliest concentration of individuals in the entire Host. Even if the sorcerer hadn't killed the fool, one of the others would have most likely ended his ambitions quickly enough.

Ash had no intention of tangling with a Sorcerer head on. He was all to aware of the kind of power they could unleash, even untrained as this one must be, to be eager to stick his snout in THAT fire. If he saw a possible opening, he wouldn't hesitate to exploit it of course, but he wasn't about to look for trouble if he could avoid it.

He sent his will to the others. They would restrict themselves to offering long-range support and let the orks do all the dying. Dragons could destroy spell matrixes as well, if not better, than any human.

Ash, however, would see if he could find out what had killed Ember. Even from this height he could see the dragon's corpse clearly. If he didn't know any better, he would swear those were SPEARS embedded in the body.

'Could Ember have been enough of an idiot to actually LAND to fight them on foot?' Ash asked himself. The appearance of the impact crater, and the obviously dislocated wing suggested otherwise.

A spear appeared to have been lodged in one of the wing joints. Ash knew that Ember was fond of buzzing humans for his own esoteric reasons. Most likely he'd gotten too close this time and caught a spear for his troubles. That would have brought him down, and allowed the humans to finish him off while he was still stunned from the impact.

Just to be sure, he'd take a closer look and get his talons on one of those spears.

Ash did a wingover, turning around into a shallow dive that would take him over the wall (not too close mind you!) and allow him to snatch one of the spears.

As he made his pass, his instincts screamed sudden warning. Unlike Ember, Ash had been a warrior and his instincts and reflexes were finely trained.

Ash rolled over onto his left wing, narrowly missing a spear shot with terrific force as it brushed past his chest. He continued the roll, lashing his tail out to shatter one of the cunning engines to splinters as he snapped back around.

With another wingover, he came back for a second pass. Two more spears lashed out at him. The first he caught effortlessly, while the second went high and came nowhere near him. As he went, Ash lashed out with is tail, destroying two more ballista as he climbed into the sky.

Ash moved out of the probable danger zone before he took the time to examine his prize. Human ingenuity was astounding! This was how Ember was killed, ambushed by a new and unexpected weapon. Perhaps he'd been too hard on the departed sociologist. Ash himself had barely been able to avoid getting skewered.

Ash shuddered as he looked at the dreadful spear. Its serrated edges would cause terrible damage when they hit. Even if they were unable to penetrate bone, the force of their blows could almost certainly punch through the armored hide of a dragon.

Even with the magical enhancements he instinctively activated, it had hurt to catch that spear. It would perhaps be better to keep himself and his people well out of the possible range of those weapons in case they had still more.

The battle would definitely be more exciting than he'd thought.

The dragons were an unfortunate complication. They darted in and out to blast holes in the human and elvin ranks, occasionally getting wounded by one of the three remaining ballista. At other times they would disrupt spells or extinguish fires in the ork ranks. The Monks had proven a saving grace, keeping the orks from making effective use of the opportunities the dragons presented them. Since their magic was orkish in nature, the dragons never bothered to challenge their power, giving them free reign in the battle.

Andy and E'rin manned the walls, E'rin with his ersatz lightsaber and Andy with his wakazashi. The close quarters of the wall favored his shorter blade, so the loss of his katana wasn't as important at the moment. Occasionally, as time permitted, Andy would get a little of his own back from the dragons, but for the most part he had to settle for mitigating the damage they caused.

It was a battle of attrition and if not for the same strengthening spells being provided to the soldiers as the orks had, the Host would have long since been buried under. Sooner or later however, they would falter, and dragons NEVER got tired.

No one noticed when help arrived, for it flew in on silent wings. One minute the dragons were dancing in and amongst the battle, flying down and back, never making themselves an easy target and the next minute they were suddenly swarmed under. The First Aerian Battlewing had arrived, and they went about their work like the consummate professionals they were.

The children of Hyperion were created to be the undisputable masters of the sky. One on one, a dragon was a fearsome creature, but they were solitary creatures that rarely cooperated. Aerians, however, were very social people, and had learned over the millennia of war with their twisted brethren, the Pteros, how to use that close cooperation to become the finest aerial force imaginable.

Of course, only so many could attack at once, but the intricate flight patterns they wove allowed the Aerians to strike as they passed the dragons on so many different vectors at once it was impossible for even those incredible creatures to keep track of them in such total confusion. With a roared order from Ash, the dragons turned and fled into the sky, pursued by the Aerian warriors.

The defeat of the dragons was too much to bear, and without the driving will of Ter'Zhull to keep them going, the orks broke and ran at last. The host sallied forth once more to pursue and kill as many as possible, but the fighting they had endured had sapped too much from them. After only half way down the pass, the soldiers halted on their officer's command, and returned to camp.

The battle was won, and the war over, for today at least.

Thank you Matt for being my conscientious editor, and for constantly hounding me to make sure that I don't just completely forget about writing the story either.

:-P

Corey.