Forbidden Peak

From DALpedia

by Xorlak (11-09-2006)

This side story occurs between Chapters 10 and 11.

“My Lord!”

Virmir’s eyes opened at the call of the Battle Mage, though he could detect his approach a few moments earlier. The Velken dropped from the gray sky, landing next to the vulpine High General gracefully in a sort of half bow.

“Yes, Renard?”

Renard pointed behind with a black claw.

“A human army is scaling the mountain.”

Virmir lifted an eyebrow along with an ear.

“How high?”

“Too high, I’m afraid. It is my fault sir. Please accept my apologies…”

Virmir turned and strode to the edge of the cliff, resting an elbow on his right knee as he peered over the rocky terrain, his tail moving to and fro as he contemplated the scene. The overlook was above the dead tree line, and offered a good view of the southern passes of the mountain he had been ordered to protect. The dull grayness the sky left the monolithic boulders below without shadows.

Sure enough there was a group of some 200 humans slowly drudging their way up the steep terrain, having made it about a third of the way up. It became evident how they evaded detection for so long, giving the twisting deep ravine they had chosen as their path. In but a few moments they would disappear behind the obstructing canyon like walls once more. Virmir was not about to rebuke the soldier for missing them for so long, for the High General felt equally responsible for the blunder, having taken the time to meditatively rest when there was little need.

He did regret the mistake, though. Had he caught them before they began to scale the mountain, he could have perhaps scared them away. However, having set foot in the forbidden zone, they clearly had to die… For it was the Dark Emperor Retan’s will that any living thing that stepped onto his mountain be killed swiftly and without hesitation.

“Not Kandarinians.” Renard offered, joining his general as they observed the approaching army. Indeed they weren’t, for their flag was of a solid red and black. A bland choice of heraldry, Virmir thought.

“231 of them.” Virmir returned after a moment of study. “Can you feel them all?”

Renard closed his eyes, a sort of snarl forming on his muzzle as he concentrated on picking out the individual pinpoints in the magical radiance of the land that were each human’s life force.

“Y-yes. I can.”

Virmir nodded in approval. Renard had come a long way and was showing promise. The young fox could perhaps be trusted with a position of power some day.

“Good. We cannot let a single one escape. Is that understood?”

Renard nodded solemnly. By now the other nine Velkens had gathered from their sentry points, four more mages like Renard with their black robes, and five Blade Knights with their thin leather armor, and congregated behind their general. They had of course taken in the comment as well. Virmir turned.

“Take your positions. Stay hidden until I make my move…”

With that the ten silver foxes disappeared, shooting skywards as blurs then cascading down the mountainside, snaking just above the dead tree limbs as they spilled into the cavernous sea of rocks below. Virmir watched them as they spread out as they had been trained, the barely visible specs darting just above the treetops. They would have the human army silently surrounded in sixty seconds.

Virmir then followed suit, jumping off of the edge and leaping though the treetops. He followed them downward, the wind blasting his face as he plummeted. It was always such a pleasant sensation to fly. His thoughts turned to the humans, whom he regarded with a sense of pity. What they had done to deserve this fate did not matter, however. The will of the Dark Emperor is absolute.

He choose a rock just up the path the army was dredging forth and silently landed upon it in a crouch, his cloak and tail slowly falling toward the ground after. Here he would address them and offer them the chance to turn back. It would be a lie. However, they would refuse the chance anyway. They always do. That perhaps would help to justify his actions, if only by a margin…

They did not see the silver fox at first. Perhaps they were tired, staring forward with fatigued eyes that did not see. Soon, their rest will be granted. Virmir stood there with an unassuming stance. He would have placed his hands behind his back if it weren’t for the bulkiness of his swords, instead allowing his arms to dangle at his sides. They were twenty feet from the fox before one cried. They began pointing, some inquisitively, others fearfully. Virmir heard the word “demon” whispered several times, for a Velkin’s hearing is quite exceptional.

Virmir then spoke in a commanding deep baritone voice which betrayed his small stature.

“You shouldn’t be here. You should turn back and surrender to the Kandarinians.”

More whispers ensued, giving way to nervous shouting. The deliberation only took a few seconds before weapons were drawn. One of the humans stepped forward with a fiery voice to match the fox’s.

“We will do no such thing! Now get out of our way.”

“Very well.”

Virmir was quick to react. Reaching his right hand around his back, he swiftly drew the higher of the two swords, producing the Flamberge in front of him. As soon as the enchanted longsword cut air it began to glow with an ethereal red flame. The mages in the army recognized that a magical strike was coming, and were quick to construct barriers that would ward the malicious spell. Virmir sliced the air in a horizontal slash, sending forth a wave of crimson flame from the arc some twenty five feet wide. The opposing magics collided in a violent display of light and dust, and when it was over the army still stood, unscathed, the barriers of their mages having protected them in their moment of need. The dust settled.

And then the human mages fell over. Dead. Gaping their hands over the holes torn through their chests. Gurgling blood splattered from within their throats. The five Velken knights stood there amongst the group of confused humans, the foxes’ blades dripping with blood, having slipped in and hit their targets once their general had made which ones were the spell casters evident…

And thus the dance of death began.

The five vulpine knights disappeared in a blur as the enraged humans rose their weapons to purge them from the army’s ranks. But hovering above were the five Velken mages, circling slowly, a pentagram traced and glowing in the air between them, their outstretched claws serving as the five points. They attacked all at once. The spells were swift and brutal, with a deadly simplicity. The first let loose a cerulean sphere of ethereal mist upon the humans below, freezing two of them solidly where they stood, crippling five more as the ice shattered their legs. The second was a simple bolt of lighting, which tore through the humans with their metal armor. Six died instantly. The third looked like a small green sphere that harmlessly passed into the ground. But the ground reacted violently, as if it had come alive, jagged stalagmites of stone darting though the exposed rumbling area, impaling humans randomly. Four were instantly killed, and another three maimed. Fourth was a flaming crimson orb, which exploded on impact with the force of a bomb. Only one human was instantly killed, but another ten were left unable to move due to their charred flesh. Finally was a black sphere of Shadow, which rent the very flesh from the humans’ bones. Three were reduced to lifeless skeletons as they screamed like wraiths. In but ten seconds the strike was over.

Then the circle of mages spread apart, backing off skyward as the Blade Knights had their turn… The five armored Velkens suddenly dashed back into the crowd as the mages above rekindled their spells. The knights weaved in and out, thrusting their swords into the confused mass one by one, ducking and dodging the return strikes with giant graceful leaps. Each time a Velken landed, his blade hit his mark, whether it be an abdomen, kidney, or neck. And in a blur he was gone, already plunging his sword into another victim. The dusty path was painted crimson. Fifteen of the humans fell in but a few seconds.

As quickly as it began, the wave was over. The bladed warriors were gone and long out of the way as the floating mages overhead were ready for a second strike, the pentagram already formed in the air, and the spells of havoc raining down. And thus the cycle of death continued, the mages and the warriors taking turns, each group taking an equal few seconds to deliver its blows, before swiftly backing off to allow the other to do its work while they prepared for the next wave themselves.

Virmir himself did not partake in the letting of blood, but watched as the Dual Attack ravaged the humans for six rounds, ensuring that no straggler left the tightly knit group that was condemned to death. After 150 of the humans fell, their will to fight back had vanished entirely and raw primordial fear overtook them. They began to flee in a panicked mass, running in all directions as they stepped upon the bodies of their comrades. This of course rendered the Dual Attack ineffective as they were spread too far apart.

It was every man for himself…

Allowing even one to escape was unacceptable. Every last one must die.

Virmir was quick to sheathe the Flamberge, instead drawing the long thin Wind Serpent, his most prized blade. About twelve of the humans actually ran in his general direction, scaling higher up the mountain. These would have to be dealt with first.

Six of them sped off to his right, the first close enough so that a simple downward slash was all that was necessary to set the human’s soul free as the fox leapt off of the bolder. The Velken took off after a second in a full sprint, his legs propelling him three times the speed of the human. With a horizontal slice the man’s abdomen was cut open and his innards spilled upon the stones. His death would be a miserable, yet quick one.

The other four were rapidly disappearing into a cove of dead trees. Taking a second to ensure none of his brethren were in that direction, Virmir cleaved the air before him in another horizontal arc, this one creating a gust of wind so fierce the trees were split in two, along with the human bodies…

He then turned his attention to the six that originally made their way to the left of his stone. They were spread far over the slopes, still scampering with disregard to stealth. Virmir took flight, letting his long blade dangle loose and soaring after them like an angel of death, swooping down in time to slash the closest deserter’s neck. He repeated the maneuver four more times, but landed in front of the last human so that he might dispatch him from the front. Though still armed, the human offered no resistance, and Virmir plunged the long thin blade into his heart.

The sounds of warfare around him had ceased, signaling that the other ten Velkens had taken care of the rest. Sheathing his blade, he returned to the path, finding eight of his warriors there, splattered in human blood, though the knights more so than the mages. Their expressions were solemn, yet they were all battle hardened and unquestioning. The two remaining knights returned a half minute later, falling from the sky and landing behind the others, blades still drawn and dripping with the crimson ooze.

Indeed, there were 231 souls hanging in the plane, rapidly disintegrating without their bodies. The deed was done. Where they would go was anyone’s guess, for Retan’s very presence on Gaian would have cut the paths to celestial realms.

“Renard, Helex, burn the bodies. The rest of you return to your posts.”

The two mages nodded, looking queasy from the weight of the task they’ve just been assigned. The rest shot off skyward, disappearing in different directions. Virmir took of towards his vantage point. He would have to be more alert next time…