Forgotten Guardians

Head Watcher Veil, sat on his velvet cushion, staring out of the small window of the tower room. His white milky eyes stared out into nothingness, yet he saw more than most. Visions danced around his mind as he saw the world revolve. Some things passed quickly, nothing more than a blur in his mind. People died and were reborn in the beat of a heart, as always. Suddenly a darkness descended in his mind, screams of agony and pain stung his brain like hot needles. Unearthly laughter pounded in his ears as the screams rose. Fire erupted everywhere; ash filled the sky blocking out the sun. The smell of burning flesh filled his nostrils until he almost gagged.

He drew himself from his meditation as the tears ushered their way down his cheek. He knew it wasn’t real, at leasl not yet. Since the arrival of the Guardians, however, he had the same vision everyday without fail. He spent many hours pondering what the vision meant and the conclusion sent a chill up his spine. He slowly stood and wiped the tears from his face. He knew what would happen and he could not allow it to happen, even if it meant breaking his Watchers’ oath, it was time for him to act.

He exited his meditation room and quickly as he could manage, made his way to his office. He opened the door and stepped inside. As always Watcher Gord was seated at his desk going through the latest paper work. His best friend since they were novices. Watcher Gord didn’t even raise his head from his papers as Veil entered, and said only a simple hello. He had not changed in the eighty years Veil had known him. Put the man to a task and he would not leave it, not even if the Shadow himself stepped up to his desk.

“Watcher Gord, my old friend, we need to leave. Pack your things we must go immediately,” the announcement brought Watcher Gord out of his work, with a confused look. He eyed Veil as if he was crazy.

“Are you feeling well?” Watcher Gord asked.

“I am. We must leave. Grab some things and be quick about it,” Veil said as he headed for his desk.

“What in the world are you talking about? Where are we going?” Watcher Gord asked wearily.

“Just pack and hurry. On your way, gather Watcher Moruc, we will need him also,” Veil said as he pulled a piece of parchment from his desk with a fresh quill.

“You’re serious. Where are we going?” Watcher Gord said as he started to rise up from his chair.

“Salvation. Now go!” Veil said as he started to scribble instructions for the others.

A cloudless sky shown above as laughter and singing filled the air around he keep. Josan and Miranda wandered through the festival now in full bloom. Uuger sat a top Wolfs back a few paces back, his eyes darting left to right with awe. Grimmly sat with some men playing cards and Frathe had made his way to the archery grounds. Most of the people had gotten over their shock from the night before when Lord Tylin announced them as guests and they to be treated so. Since he showed no fear, the villagers took his lead and went back to the preparations of the festival. Lord Tylin did know how to throw a fine festival. Everyone from nobility to commoners strolled along arm an arm as if they had been friends for years. Men drank and sang tavern songs as children ran through the crowd giggling and laughing. Smells of every type of food from roasted ham to honey cakes filled the air. Everyone had a smile upon their face and joy in their eyes. Josan and Miranda turned the comer to see a tug a war contest in progress, Lord Tylin at the head of the team to the left. A crowd had gathered to watch the match, cheering for their friends. Yelling encouragements to his team, Tylin held the rope with all of his might trying to pull the other team into the mud in the center. Lord Tylin’s team pulled and gained ground but suddenly the other team gave a mighty tug and Tylin’s team went flying into the wet ground. Cheers rose from me other team as laughter came from the crowd as the men in the mud made their way out. Wives went to their husbands grinning and shaking their heads, wiping their husband’s faces and whispering words of endearment. No one seemed hurt from the loss, especially Lord Tylin, who laughed as the men helped him from me bottom of the heap. Covered head to toe in mud, he grinned and went over to shake the others teams hands. A skinny old woman, who must have been his maid, followed him over trying to wipe away the grime, but to no avail. As he turned he caught sight of Josan and Miranda, casually walking over to them pausing every once and awhile to shake one of the men’s hands.

“Are enjoying yourselves, I hope?” Lord Tylin asked with a smile as he took a towel from the old woman standing behind him, who scowled as she tried to wipe the mud from Tylin’s shirt. She had a look of mother who was cleaning one of her children who had found a mud puddle.

“Very much so my Lord,” Miranda said with a curtsy.

“Please, please, today I am just Steven,” he said with a smile. “Master Josan, the day grows warm. Would you not like to remove your coat?” Lord Tylin asked as he wiped the side of his face.

“I am fine, Lor... Master Steven, but thank you,” Josan said as he watched the crowd. He couldn’t enjoy himself completely, something was making him edgy, he couldn’t tell what, but he didn’t like it. Trumpets sounded bringing Josan away from his thoughts.

“Oh, time for the races. Will you both come and sit with me? They are most entertaining,” Lord Tylin said as he started for the horse track.

Josan and Miranda followed with Wolf and Uuger not far behind. A large crowd had already gathered around and was eager to watch the first race. Grimmly stood on the far side of the track, laughing and drinking with a few well-to-do merchants. Lord Tylin walked up a small platform built with the perfect view of the races. He sat down in a high-backed chair and motioned for his guests join him. Miranda and Josan walked up and sat on well polished benches to his side. Trumpets sounded and the riders took their places at the line. A gnarled old man walked to the edge of the track with a red flag. He raised the flag over his head and the horses tensed with their riders. A sudden drop of flag and the horses were off. Hooves thundered against the ground like storm clouds. Men and women cheered from the side lines as the horses raced down the track. As the first horse reached the finish line a roar erupted from the crowd. Even Lord Tylin jumped from his seat to cheer the victor.

As the crowd cheered, Josan felt a tingle in the back of his head. Something was wrong. His eyes darted around trying to find the cause of his alarm, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Then suddenly he noticed what was troubling him. The ground still thundered, even though the race was over. The ground shook with fury. As the moments passed the thunder grew in intensity. Something was gravely wrong. Then a shout from the Keep’s walls answered his question. “Horde!” a guard cried from the battlements, but his voice was drowned out by the cheers. Josan rose from his seat just in time to see hundreds of silhouettes coming over the horizon. Josan grabbed Lord Tylin’s shirt sleeve. Lord Tylin looked over with a confused look until his eye followed where Josan’s was staring. A few moments later the crowd began to notice the figures coming at them. Screams filled the air as people ran in all directions. Children cried out as men and women tried not to be trampled by the crowd.

Lord Tylin started yelling orders to his men, as people headed for the Keep’s gate. Soldiers ran from their barracks, dressing as they went. There was no smile on Lord Tylin’s lips now, only the stone face of a man who knew what needed to be done.

Josan turned to Miranda, “Help get the people inside,” he jumped down before the last word left his mouth, then vanished in the mill of the crowd.

Miranda turned to find Grimmly standing by her side, a murderous scowl draped across his face as he stared at the approaching horde. They quickly made their way to the gate to help people in without trampling each other. Guards flooded outside the doors, as more lined the Keep’s wall with bows in hand. Miranda even noticed Aielia on the wall with arrow notched and drawn. She looked over her shoulder to still see the horde advancing, now only a mile away and still charging, they would be here any moment. Grimmly removed his shimmering silver rod from his belt, in an instant it had transformed into enormous broadsword.

“Don’t worry little lady, we’ll make it through this,” Grimmly said with a slight smile. She gave a rough nod and steeled herself for what was to come. Sword and dagger in hand, she waited for the horde. A bellowing voice from behind lifted her spirits.

“Out of the way you troll dung, or I’ll cleave you in two,” she didn’t haven’t to look to know it was Baile. The two dwarves flanked the two of them, “Thinking you can hog all the fun, giant?” Baile said to Grimmly as he watched the horde approach. “Lady Miranda, do Mourn a favor and don’t kill them all, leave some for him now,” He said with a vicious smile. Miranda took a moment to scan the area. She saw Lord Tylin, sword in hand, directing his men with curt ifishention. Even some of the farmers, with pitchforks or what ever they could find, standing side by side with the soldiers ready for battle. People still piled through the gate. The horde would reach them before everyone got to the safety of the keep. Josan was no where to be seen and Uuger, Fradie and Wolf were also missing. She gave a silent prayer for her friends.

The horde approached with every heartbeat. Goblins and orcs running at full charge with a frenzy in their eyes. The first line dropped as arrows passed from over head, but the horde continued on without pause. Trampling their fellow comrades underfoot. Suddenly the clash of steel rang out and the world was in chaos.

The horde swarmed Miranda, Grimmly and the dwarves like locus. Grimmly swung his broad sword as if he was hacking weeds. Goblins and orcsfell by the dozen at his feet. Miranda worked through her sword play like a dancer, cutting and stabbing any came near. Baile and Mourn swung their axes in unison, cleaving goblins in two like kindling. Arrows hummed by to find their targets. Lord Tylin fought with the passion of a man fighting for his home. Josan appeared as if from the shadows among the horde and sweep through them. He was a wind of death, for where he stood only the dead would lay.

Sword in hand, Lord Tylin fought off the advancing horde, but for every goblin he killed, two more took its place, but still he did not give up hope. Soldiers and commoners rallied to his side, fighting for everything they were worth. He glided through the fighting steps he was taught as a boy and orcs and goblins fell at his feet. Unlike most nobles, his father had insisted that he know how to use a sword. As he plunged his sword through the chest of a infuriated goblin he noticed something from the comer of his eye. Children. Almost a dozen of them huddled together against the wall, stark terror filling their eyes. A group of orcs were steadily making their way towards the frightened children. “Follow me,” he roared as he plunged forward. Men turned to look and caught sight of what their Lord was headed for, with a roar of rage they followed, carving a path to the children. As they pressed forward the horde pressed back. Lord Tylin could barely see the children any more through the throng of orcs and goblins. His men fought like rabid dogs, but still they could not advance. Something off to the side caught his attention, a silver blur with something on top making its way toward them. It wove through the horde as if by second nature, he braced himself for this new threat. The silvery blur came in sight as he raised his sword to strike, but then he saw it was the giant wolf with the ranger goblin and the strange little creature on it back.

Uuger let out a gurgling battle cry as Wolf crashed through the goblin ranks to the children. Frathe was off Wolfs back before they touched the ground. Two bolts found their marks in goblin heads. Uuger leaped off as they touched ground with his little mace in hand swing with all his might. Many orcs and goblins screamed in pain from broken shins as they toppled to the ground. Wolf took no time in removing the throat of ores. The three made a semi circle around the children, dropping anything that came in too close. Soon Lord Tylin and his men made their way to them.

“Glad you could make, My Lord,” Frathe said mockingly as he worked his saber between two orcs, stabbing and slashing. Lord Tylin smirked at the surly goblin as he slashed a orcs stomach open.

Miranda worked her sword as if she was born with it in hand. Blocking one attack with one hand while dealing a killer blow with the other. She concentrated her focus, just like Josan had taught her. A child’s scream caught her attention as she saw the small little boy being carried away on an orc’s back. The child wailed as the orc made his way through the horde back in the direction it had come. Miranda didn’t need to think, she was running on pure instinct. She darted for the crying child, anything which got in her way found steel in their belly. The orc carrying the child seemed not to notice her approaching until she hamstringed its legs. The orc fell wailing as Miranda caught the child. As she turned to make her way back when something struck her in the back of the head. She saw the ground approaching, she tried to curl around the child but her limbs would not respond. Dirt flew into her mouth as she landed with a thump. Something turned her over as a blurry sky came into vision. The world swirled around her. Something came into view, black eyes surrounded by deep gray skin smiled at her then everything went black.

On the other side of the battle a lone man sat on a horse watching the fight unfold with a bored expression. He paid close attention to the man in black who was massacring his troops. He cared little for his troops, they could all the for all he cared, his plans were more important.

A figure, which seemed to appear out of the shadows slowly made its way to the horsed man. “My Master, their forces are stronger than anticipated. I do not know if we can take the keep with this pathetic army,” the dark elf said smoothly.

“What of the items we discussed?” Parlon said without taking his eyes from the black clad man which was slaughtering his forces.

“We have collected ten, my Master,” the dark elf said keeping his eyes to the ground.

A few moments passed, “That will be enough for now. Call for the retreat,” Parlon said as he took one last look at the man in black and smiled. He turned his horse and started off.