Forgotten Guardians

Miranda stepped out of the door to find the courtyard in a chaotic bustle. Soldiers ran in every direction, some carrying arrows, others buckets of oil. Even the common folk ran along preparing for what looked to be a battle. Within a week since she returned the peaceful Keep was turned into a fortress. Miranda seized the arm of a soldier running by he gave a short bow, “My Lady.”

“What is going on here?” Miranda asked.

“Scouts have reported an army of goblins and men coming this way,” A soldier said frantically.

“Where is Master Josan?” Miranda asked.

“He is interrogating the prisoner with Lord Tylin, my Lady,” Miranda waved the soldier away.

She was about to make her way to find Josan when someone tapped her on the shoulder, as she turned she came face to face with Namis, the blacksmith’s son. He gave a small bow and figited nervously. Miranda smiled warmly and gave the young man a tight hug.

“How have you been?” Miranda asked sincerely.

“I’m good, thanks to you,” he said with a slight blush. He reached into a small bag strapped around his back and pulled out a gleaming tunic of chain mail. The light danced across it like a still pond. “This is for you,” he said as he held out his arms.

Miranda gently took the chain tunic and held it up. It barely weighed anything at all, but the rigs looked as if the were woven together. On the left breast, gold rings were woven into the mail, which displayed the silhouette a woman holding a raised sword.

“Me and my father made it for you,” he said as his foot made circles in the dirt.

“It’s beautiful, thank you,” Miranda said as she bent down and kissed Namis on the cheek. His face turned bright red as he bowed again and scurried off into the confusion.

Miranda found a quiet little corner and slipped the chain mail over her tunic. It fit like a glove, as if it as she wasn’t even wearing it. She made her way through the bustle of the courtyard and entered the barracks. She opened the door to find only the flicker of torches lighting the small buildings hallways. In the front entry was an office with a table and benches, to her right a long hallway with cells on eimer side. As she made her way down the hallway voices began to echoe off the walls. Lord Tylin’s voice sounded distressed as he repeatedly asked the same questions over again. As she came closer Josan’s silhouette seemed to melt out of the shadows.

“You shouldn’t be here, you need your rest,” he said with concern.

“I’m fine, what have you learned?” she asked as she peered into the cell to see Charkic strapped to a chair as Lord Tylin paced in front of him.

“Not much,” Josan said.

“Where are the others,” she asked.

Josan didn’t need descriptions to know who she was talking about, “Uuger is helping with the hospice, Frathe and Wolf are out scouting and Grimmly is helping to reinforce the doors.”

“What about the elves and dwarves?” she asked.

“Not a word from them so far,” Josan said as he watched the distressed Lord Tylin walk out of the cell.

“Lady Miranda,” Lord Tylin said surprised to see her here, “You shouldn’t be in here in your condition,” he said with a pleading voice.

“I’m fine,” she said with a wave of her hand, Annoyed everyone was treating her like delicate porclain. “Has he told you anything?”

“Nothing of use. I must go see to the provisions, if you will excuse me,” Lord Tylin said with a bow and hurried out the room.

Miranda started to walk into the cell when Josan grabbed her arm, “What do you think you are doing?” he asked.

“Just going to ask a few questions of my own,” Miranda said innocently, yet Josan did not release her arm. “Sometimes a woman can get answers where a man cannot,” she explained.

Josan finally released her arm and stepped back, “I’ll be right here if you need me.”

Miranda walked into the small cell and bent down so her eyes were level with Charkic’s. “Why do you hate us so much?” she asked curiously, “We have done nothing to you. These people have done nothing, yet you attack them. Why?”

“Why do you stay with these creatures? Have they bewitched you?” Charkic asked avoiding the question.

“No they haven’t. They are my family and my friends,” Miranda said proudly. Charkic stared at her as if she was crazy. “I know what you think, but they are not like what you believe. Answer my question now, why do you hate us so?”

For a moment Charkic only met her gaze with fury burning in his eyes, “It was people like your friends out there who destroyed my life. It is people like you who let these creatures exist.” Charkic said as memories flooded his mind. “I lost my family to the vermin you protect.”

“So you would bring that same pain to these people by leading the horde here even as we speak?” Miranda spat back, resisting the urge to hit him.

“You do not understand the pain of watching a loved one die,” Charkic said softly as he looked away from her burning eyes.

“I don’t know! I watched my own father be burned alive and you know what? It wasn’t goblins or orcs, it was men. Men just like you.” Miranda stood and went to the door. As she reached the cell door she turned around, “If you truly want to help these people, you should look and see what side you’re on.” she said as she spun and walked out of the cell.

Vander sat in his tent and studied the latest reports. Candles flickered in the bleak darkness, as the night wind pounded on the side of his tent. His eyes ached as he went down the list of supplies. Tomorrow was the day; they were a half a day’s ride from the Keep. Tomorrow Josan would die. A slight breeze slipped in as a soldier opened the tent flap, “What is it?” Vander asked without looking from his papers.

“The scout has returned. General,” the solider reported.

Vander waved his hand and the scout pushed open the flap and arrogantly walked past the guard. The dark elf stood in the center of the tent, eyeing his surroundings with a smirk. His hands rested on the hilts of his swords as Vander finished his report.

“What do you have to report?” Vander said casually with out looking at the elf.

“The Keep is well fortified; its walls and door have been reinforced, war engines are at every corner and the Keep has been supplied with new troops. They will easily hold off this rabble you have put together,” the dark elf almost laughed

“Watch your tongue, or lose it,” Vander said casually. “You think that they can hold off an army of two thousand. I think your confidence in them is charming but sorely placed.”

“A band of dark elf children could take this army of yours apart with a wave of their hands,” the dark elf boasted. “You humans think power comes in numbers, no wonder your kind is so easily killed.” Those were the last words that the dark elf spoke, in a heart beat Vander had pulled his sword free of its sheath and slid it across the dark elf s throat. Bright red blood spilled from the elfs neck as his eyes went wide with shock.

“Not as easy as you think,” Vander said spat, “Guard,” Vander bellowed. The guard outside flipped open the tent flap and looked upon the dead elf with indifferance. “Fetch me the wizard, and remove this filth,” Vander said as he sat down again and went back to his reports.

The moon had fully risen when Parlon finally arrived at the tent. The dead elf had been removed, but the camp was bustling with the news that General Vander had slain one of the dark elves, a feet most men could only ponder. Parlon walked into the tent without hesitation, hatred boiling in his veins at what Vander had done to one of his agents, but he held his emotions with practiced resolve.

“My General, are you all right? I heard of the attack upon your life, I hurried here as fast as I could,” Parlon said with mock concern.

Vander sat in his chair studying the wizard for a moment. Vander knew that the wizard wouldn’t miss a step if the elf had got the best of him. Vander considered letting the wizard share the same fate as his scout, but decided against it. The wizard still had his uses, for now.

“I am fine. I need to talk to you about tomorrow. The horde will charge the Keep as the men cover them with volley of arrows. I will be leading this attack myself there will be no more mistakes. I need you to create something which will bring down their defenses so the horde can get inside the walls and quickly. Can you do it?” Vander said without looking away from the map.

“Yes, I will start on it right away. Beg my pardon, my General, but if the horde is to breach the Keep, many of the villagers will be innocently slaughtered.” Parlon said trying to sound concerned.

“Innocent? They are consorting with a demon spawn. They will share the same fate as him.” Vander spat with murder flaring in his eyes.

Parlon bowed and backed out of the tent humbly. He made his way back to his tent with a malicious smirk on his lip, “Oh, how fortune smiles upon me tonight.” he chuckled softly.

Vander sat and watched the tent flap after the wizard had departed. His skin felt as if he hadn’t washed in a year. He always felt so after he talked to Parlon. The wizard would have to be dealt with soon. Vander held no illusion about what had probably happened to Charkic, but remained resolved; the time for vengeance would come later.

Men ran frantically around the courtyard finishing last moment preparations. Lord Tylin stood on an empty wagon in his dull armor, using his sword to direct men. . Mothers gathered children and hurried them inside the Keep while farmers and commoners, armed with axes and pitch forks, guarded the Keep’s doors Vell and the Watchers chanted spells on large rocks, which would be used by the catapults. Soldiers lined the battlements with arrows notched, Frathe stood along with them. Grimmly pushed a large cart filled with rocks in place for reinforcement as the gates were shut. Josan and Miranda watched from one of the towers as the horde marched over the hill. Fear and panic filled everyone’s hearts, but was quickly pushed away by determination. The sound of marching soon gave way to a steady roll of thunder as the horde began a dead run towards the Keep. Silence broke over the Keep; each man took a last breath praying it would not be his last.

Arrows whistled through the air from the soldier’s bows and goblins and orcs fell like toppled trees. Yet the advance continued. Volley after volley whistled across the sky, dropping enemies as they ran but the survivors trampled over the dead to reach the Keep’s walls. Catapults flung their cargo which exploded into a rain of fire from the enchantments placed on them. The smell of burning flesh filled the air as living fireballs ran in panic only catching more of their comrades on fire with deadly flame. The horde reached the walls, throwing ropes over the side to find a hold. Makeshift ladders rose to bring troops over the ramparts. Most of the horrid creatures didn’t make it to the top of the wall and the few that did were quickly cut down.

A shadowy figure stealthily made his way through the hail of arrows and raining fire. His gray bellowing hair flowing out behind him like a banner as he moved in out of shadows with practiced ease unnoticed by the archers. He made his way to the main gates and pushed through the throng. He pulled and oddly shaped crystal from the pocket of his cloak and placed between the doors, and quickly made his way back through the throng of goblins and orcs. Suddenly the gates exploded into a shower of stone, wood, and steel. The walls trembled under the force of the explosion. Men and goblins flew through the air landing in crumpled heaps. It only took a moment for the horde to shake off the shock, before they charged through the open portal.

The men in the courtyard were quickly overwhelmed. Josan and Miranda made their way down to the battle and quickly started to push back the horde, but both knew that they could not hold out forever. More Goblin and orcs poured through the ruined gate whooping and waving their weapons. Soon they would be overrun and the Keep would fall. Josan sliced down his enemies like dried grass. Miranda moved swiftly through the horde like a dancer leaving corpses in her wake. Yet, the Keep’s defenders were slowly be pushed back by overwhelming odds. Lord Tylin’s men fought bravely but many fell to the onslaught of the horde.

“Eastern wall, eastern wall!” one of the soldiers on the battlement bellowed over the chaos of battle. Without missing a stroke Josan and Miranda raced up to the battlements. A large group of goblins and orcs raced toward the eastern gate.. The horde was flanking them, cutting off their only escape route into the woods. If they made it through those gates the Keep’s defenders would be trapped. The horde raced toward the eastern gate with animal ferocity. A group of archers abandoned their posts at the southern gate and took up positions above the eastern gate. They rained down arrows, but the horde kept coming. As the horde reached the walls a roaring battle cry came from the nearby woods. The earth began to shake as the roar became louder. The forest seemed to burst as hundreds of dwarves, covered in head to toe in armor, thundered across the clearing. Behind the dwarves arrows whistled through the air. Goblins and orcs fell in the hundreds. Dwarves, in the thrall of battle frenzy, quickly cut down any survivors.

Josan couldn’t help but smile as he watched their chances of victory increase, when something caught his eye, a small group of dwarves were not stopping their charge. Josan suddenly recognized the leader of the small group, it was Baile with Mourn by his side. They were in a perfect V formation as they sped past goblins and orcs, straight for the gate. Josan wheeled around with the understanding what the battle frenzy dwarves were about to do. “Clear the gate,” he yelled. In an explosion of wood, the dwarves plowed through the thick wooden door. The charge didn’t even phase the stone like dwarves as they immediately started to hack down victims with their mighty axes. With the newly made hole in the door, other dwarves and elves started to make their way inside the Keep to even out the odds. Josan turned to Miranda, who smiled triumphantly over the battle. They hurried down the battlement and joined in the melee.

The fighting within the courtyard had come to a stand still. Neither side could push ahead, more of the horde piled through the southern gate and more dwarves and elves came through the eastern gate. In the middle lay the Keep. Inside women and children huddled together in the main audience hall as the sounds of ringing steel filled the air. All the windows were boarded up, darkness crept everywhere except for the light of a few candles. Off to one side a makeshift hospice had been formed. As injured soldiers were quickly were brought in Uuger raced to each one trying to heal them. His nimble hands quickly stitched up open gashes and his knowledge off herbs quickly numbed pain. Namis, the blacksmith’s son, stood by Uuger’s side as his assistant. A loud cracking sound alerted Uuger’s attention. The large doors to his right bowed and moaned as something pounded to get in. There were no soldiers in the hospice except the wounded, if the horde got inside it would be a slaughter. Children began to cry and scream as their mothers held them tight with horror. The door shattered into kindle as a large ogre strolled in with a delighted smile as he observed the innocent victims. Goblin and orcs piled in behind him with murderous glee.

Uuger slowly started too each for his little mace, when suddenly Namis raced toward the ogre with a soldier’s sword, raised high. The ogre easily blocked the weak attack and with a huge hand, grabbed Namis around the neck and hoisted him in the air. The ogre laughed as Namis tried to wiggle out of the brute’s grasp.

Uuger stared in horror. His anger started build beyond the breaking point. He knew that he had to do something, but he was so small and the enemy so big. He wished Josan was here, he would be able to fight them. Then suddenly a familiar voice spoke within his mind.

“Uuger, do not be afraid. You have the strength. You have always had it.” Uuger knew the voice. It was Weldon. Stern resolve settled over Uuger as he peered around the chamber at the approaching goblins. The fairy stone burst to life as the horde advanced and played with their victims. The blue light engulfed Uuger; his body rapidly began to grow. His skin turned as black as midnight, his talons became razor sharp daggers. In the mass chaos the horde failed to recognize the transformation, in the dim light. Uuger stalked up behind the ogre, still holding Naim’s in the air. Uuger easily towered over the eight foot ogre has his hand clasped on the un-expecting ogres head. The surprised ogre dropped his prey as razor sharp claws dug into its skull. Uuger flexed his hand and the ogre head burst like a ripe melon.

Outside the battle raged as either side tried to push back the other. Unnatural roars from the Keep froze everyone in their tracks. The main doors exploded open, sending the doors sailing through the air. A gigantic creature, blacker than pitch, with an enormous mouth filled with ferocious fangs and clawed hands rushed out the doors. The horde whooped and hollered, thinking they had acquired a new ally, but their cheers quickly faded as the creature started ripping goblins and orcs apart like linen.. Uuger quickly started to push the horde back by ripping path with his deadly claws. The dwarves cheered and quickly followed their unexpected ally, cutting down anything which was left standing in its wake.

Grimmly stood by the eastern gate, making sure the all elves and dwarves got in safely and were not walking into an ambush. He spun his magic sword, slicing several goblins in half as they rushed toward the door. His sword then melded into a spiked chain. He whipped it around taking a group of orcs by surprise. A familiar roar brought his attention toward the southern gate. Even at this distance, it was hard to miss the eleven foot mountain giant storming through the gate. Bigger than Grimmly, his kin wielded a simple, but effective, wooden club. Several soldiers were crushed as they tried valiantly to take down the giant. Grimmly knew if unchecked the giant could kill many people before they brought it down. Still, he didn’t feel right about fighting one of his own kin.

Suddenly several magical fireballs struck the giant from the battlements. Vell hurled spell after spell at the creature from the battlement above, but the elderly wizard already exhausted, could bring down the enraged gaint. With an angry roar the giant started to swing at his attacker. Stone and mortar shattered under the heavy blow leaving only rubble where the Head Watcher had stood.

Grimmly watched as his kin struck down his mentor. It took a moment for the reality at what had just happen to register. “Master Vell couldn’t be gone, he was to wise and powerful to be killed in such a crude way,” Grimmly thought to himself, but knew deep down his master was gone. The man who had shown him a better way of life, who had always been there for him was no more. Killed by this brutish creature he called kin. Something primal seemed to awaken in the noble giant. He roared is anguish as he charged the giant with tears stinging his eyes. He rushed across the yard ignoring all other . He tackled the giant around the waist and the two giants went down with an unearthly shudder, both losing their weapons. They tumbled across the ground, thrashing about wildly punching and kicking. They rolled apart and came up in crouched position, leering at each other. In a sudden burst, the giant hurled himself at Grimmly. Their massive bodies collided and stumbled through the courtyard, crashing into the prison. Brick and wood gave way as the giansts struggled against each other. Grimmly slipped under the giant’s arms and wrapped his arms around the giant’s head. The giant struggled against pressure of Grimmly’s grip. Moments passed as the two giants’ battled strength against strength. With a sudden jerk Grimmly twisted his arms. A bone cracking sound chilled through the air and the gianls’ body went limp.

Frathe raced across the battlements, stabbing anything which came up the ladders. Wolf followed close behind taking down the bigger obstacles. Two bolts flew from Frathe’s crossbow embedding themselves deep into goblin’s foreheads. Frathe had already run past them before their bodies hit had the ground. A woman’s scream caught Frathe’s attention, he looked ahead and saw below the battlements an elvish woman kneeling clutching a bloody arm. Frathe whistled and Wolf raced beside him. Without missing a step, Frathe jumped on Wolf’s back. Wolf raced ahead and leaped from the battlements, crashing through a rank of the enemy. Even before they had landed, Frathe had jumped off Wolfs back with his saber in hand. Frathe and Wolf took positions in front of the wounded elf. Goblins and orcs closed in, waving crude weapons with deadly intent. Frathe jabbed his slender saber around their feeble weapons cutting and stabbing, yet more came. He wouldn’t be able to keep this up for long, there was to many of them. He smiled at the ironic sitution. “I’m going to die saving an elf,” From the back lines orcs and goblins started to flee as something blurred throught them leaving their comrade dead. Frathe braced himself for what was to come, but as the goblins cleared, Raven stood before Frathe with his usual frown but gave a nod of mutaul respect.

Parlon sat atop his horse with the army, watching with pleasure as the horde trampled the Keep. The dwarves and the elves were an unexpected tactic, but not one that would deprive him of his victory. “Arrows,” Parlon ordered.

“Wizard, won’t we hit our army as well, and the General is down there?” one of the soliders asked curiously.

“That is a good possiblity,” Parlon awsered with a vicious grin. Quick as a snake he drew a dagger across the solider’s throat. “Now fire, or follow your friend here.”

Men strung their bows and notched arrows. Other men poured a small stream of oil on the ground in front of each row of archers; a second man came by with a torch and lit each of the rows. The archers dipped their notched arrows into the flame then launched them into the Keep. The sky filled with an assault of fiery missiles.

The Keep grounds erupted into a frenzy as the fiery missiles found their targets. Goblins and humans alike were caught in the hailing fire, as buildings and defenses ruptured into flames.

Josan dove under an empty wagon as fire hailed from the sky. “Room for one more?” a voice sounded behind him. Lord Tylin crawled up to Josan’s side. His blood soaked armor left a red trail behind.

“We are preparing a retreat into the eastern woods,” Lord Tylin said above the roar of flames consuming the courtyard. Josan looked over in disbelief as the words spilled out of the Tylin’s mouth. “I know, but we cannot defend the inside as well as the outside. If we don’t run, we die. Unless you have a better idea.” Tylin said as he ran a bloody hand through his matted hair. As if to answer Josan’s response, horns bellowed through the smoky air. Lord Tylin groaned, thinking another wave was coming. The horns sounded again, and something sparked a familiarity with Josan. He knew he had heard those horns before. Another flourish blew and it came to Josan, “Sea homs,” he said to Tylin, who returned a confused look, “The sea villagers. The elves sent an emissary to them asking for aid,” Josan explained. The stream of arrows seemed to halt and Josan quickly made his way up the wall. Like a herd of stampeding horses, the sea folk charged over the south eastern hills into the army. The soldiers unprepared for the attack, were confused and disoriented as the simple fisherman plowed down upon them.

Vander huddled between to buidings with the few remaining men he had hand picked to accompany him. Over half were dead and many of them were injured. Damn the wizard what was he thinking,Vander thought to himself . A few of his men had been caught in the rain of arrows. Good men dead because of that damn wizard. Vander decided that the wizard’s usefullness had ended and after the battle would find himself in a unmarked grave.

Charkic ran from building to building, trying to avoid detection. His hands still tightly bound made any movement difficult. Thanks to the two fighting giants crashing into the prison wall, he had managed to escape. He knelt behind a barrel waiting for an opening to make it to the gate. He watched the mayhem before him wim utter disgust. Goblins ran wildly from corpse to corpse, searching for treasure. While an orc cut down a young soldier with murderous glee. He watched as human, elves, and dwarves fought bravely against the shadow spawned creatures. As he watched the carnage something struck a cord within him. This was what he had been fighting against his whole life and now, somehow, he found himself on the very side in which he hated. Guilt froze his body as images of his family flashed before him. “What have I done?” Charkic choked as tears raced down his cheeks.

“Look what we got here,” a melodic tone said, bringing him from his memories. He turned to find a slender blond elf female, holding a sword leveled at his chest. A woman appeared a moment later. Lady Miranda. He slowly stood and studied his captives. “This is your doing,” the elf spat with cold fury burning in her eyes her sword pointing pricking his chest. Charkic suddenly lunged forward, the elf easily side stepped, drawing back her sword for a killing strike. To her surprise Charkic punched a small goblin. The goblin flew through the air and landed with a deadly thud. The elf stood shocked, realizing that she was not the man’s target.

“Aielia!” Miranda screamed, rushing to Aielia’s side to see if her friend was hurt. Charkic turned and faced them with determinetion.

“Cut me loose,” Charkic said as he stretched out his hands.

Aielia gained her control, “Why should I?” she said with a razor edge.

“You need every sword you can get,” Charkic answered.

“I don’t...” Aielia started to say before Miranda cut her off.

“I believe him,” she said as she cut his bonds.

Charkic knelt down and picked up a fallen soldier’s sword and took up a position with Aielia and Miranda. They formed a tight triangle, their backs together as the horde raced toward them. They circled around, always keeping their tight formation as they cut down goblins and orcs.

Miranda watched as the creatures scurried back in fear as a shadowy figure approached them. He was slender and walked with the grace of a mountain cat. As he approached a few soldiers rushed him, but in a move faster than the eye could fathom, the shadowy figure cut the soldiers down as if cutting down annoying weeds. He moved closer and a wicked grin spread across his face as he approached. Miranda froze, this had to be Vander. His styles, the way he moved was liking looking at a mirror of Josan. She knew she was no match for him, but she would have to try. Miranda shook off her fear and leveled her sword and dagger.

“What is this Charkic? Who betray to side with filth now? Vander spat at his former Luentinent.

“No sir, I fight with those who save lives other than take them.” Charkic calmly responded.

“Then you will die among them as well, and may the Light have mercy on your twisted soul” Vander said.

Vander came in hard taking all three of them at once. His swords flashed before her, to fast for her eyes to follow. Both of her arms were flung wide and a hilt of a sword smacked her in the jaw. She fell to her knees as pain swept through her head. A stiff wind swept by her head, she looked to see Aielia’s sword locked with Vander’s and both staring at each other with equal hatred. Vander spun knocking Aielia’s arms to the side as he landed a kick to her head. She tumbled away and came up in a crouch. “ Little elf…….” Vander started say but before he could finish he was thrown forward as Charkic rammed him from behind. Vander sommersaulted in the air and gracefully landed on his feet.

“I might have overlooked your bretral before, but now you will die with the rest of them,” Vander said calmly as he turned around and darted forward. Charkic, more agile than he appeared, blocked the first several attacks with experienced grace. Steel rang out as his former general pressed on, swords flashing in silver arches. Suddenly Charkic gasped and slumped forward as Vander’s blade buried deep in his gut. Vander tore his blade free and Charkic fell to the ground clutching his middle. He didn’t have time to savor his victory as Aielia appeared out of nowhere, sword slashing. They danced in circles with steel moving like wind currents. Miranda rushed to the dying man’s side and pushed him over. She laid his head in her lap; his eyes were already starting to glaze over.

A faint smile appeared on Charkic pale lips, “I see them,” he murmured in a ragged breath, “My wife, my children.”

“Go to them,” Miranda said softly. Charkic took his last breath and fell away with a smile. Miranda laid his head down and closed his eyes. She stood and found her friend was greatly losing to the general. She took a deep breath to calm herself and charged to her friend’s aid.

Vander gingerly parried off bolh attackers. He toyed with them little, letting them get passed his guard to score a scratch or two and they followed him like two ravenous dogs after mutton. He led them slowly to the battlements, as he agilely, walked up a ladder backwards. The stubborn women quickly followed him up, taking turns climbing and striking. They continued their dance in a more open area atop the battlements.

Miranda came in hard, using her sword to block as she tried to get her wicked dagger under his guard. He spun his sword catching both blades and driving them down. To his surprise the attack was a ruse, a foot connected with his groin. The flash of pain distracted him as the elf woman came in. He quickly cocked his head back to avoid the killing blow. The blade slid across his cheek with hunger. Anger melted away his amusement. His swords slashed out no longer holding back. He pivoted on his heels, elbowing the human woman square under the ribs. His arm slashed across the elf woman abdomen, his blades easily cutting through her elvish armor. The elf woman went down as blood welled up over her stomach.

Miranda hurried over to her fallen friend. Aielia propped herself against the wall holding her wound to stop the bleeding. Even now Aielia’s color was starting to fade; Miranda ripped the arm of her tunic off and pressed it against her friend’s wound. The Vander drew nearer, strolling towards the defenseless woman with confidences. Miranda watched her enemy draw closer knowing that she could not beat him. He knew it too. Suddenly the he spun around in time to parry a attack. Josan stood, sword locked with his old friend as an unearthly growl escaped his lips. Vander’s lips turned up in a smile, “I’ve wanted this for a long time demon spawn.Time for your kind to be wiped clean from the land and all that would ally themselves with such scum.” Josan stepped back and drew his second sword in a quick motion. Vander drew his second blade as well, the blades identical as the two oppentants circled each other, measuring each other up on invisible scales. The general rushed in first and steel on steel rang through the air. Soon their blades were nothing more than swirling metallic blurs. The only hint of the fight was the cold hiss of metal. Josan struck and blocked as Vander pressed him hard. Josan had to use everything he knew to drive back his opponent, but the childhood friend countered him every time and pressed harder. Moments passed as each opponent tried to find an opening. Each wore several cuts, but nothing severe. Blood soaked Josan’s tunic and several places on his arms were slick with blood, yet he felt none of the wounds. His mind burned with focus, the blackness within him slowly taking hold. He didn’t care if he failed, Miranda would be sacrificed if he did. Josan thrusted, locking his opponent’s swords with his. They came face to face. Vander smirked, “Come now, you know you can’t beat me, you never the better,” he said with sweat running down his face. Vander kicked back and brought both of his swords in with a thrust. Josan brought his down, their blades crossing each other and forcing the of the swords to the ground, the general, however, had expected this move and only one of his blades was caught by Josan’s swords, the other slipped across Josan’s inner left thigh, severing the tendons. Josan went down to one knee as his leg gave out. Vander didn’t hesitate, he came in with a horizontal swipe from the left, Josan easily blocked the attacked, but Vander reversed his grip on the trapped blade and slid it free, slicing Josan’s right shoulder. Josan’s sword fell from his wounded arm, as blood poured onto the battlements. His old friend wasn’t done, his right sword spun around and hooked Josan’s other sword and forced Josan’s left arm high as he thrust his other sword in between Josan’s ribs. Pain seized Josan’s body as sharp steel dug into his lung. The world swirled around him in a hazy fog. Vander wretched his sword free with a triumphant sneer and he turned his eyes back to his first prey. Miranda moved herself in front of Aielia, who still could not get up. She raised her sword in challenge as the man he created so much choas and death, stalked towards her.

Josan could feel his blood spilling around him, his body trembling with pain. The blackness had sunk back into the depths of his mind. Only a single though stood solid in his mind, Miranda.

He slowly willed his eyes open. He pushed back his hood and could Vander approaching Miranda. He gritted his teeth as reached for his fallen sword. His arm burned and his strength was fading. He clasped the hilt of the sword so tightly until his knuckles turned white, fearing if he let it go he wouldn’t be able to pick it up again. Slowly, using his other sword to help him, he stood on wobbly legs. His right arm hang limp and hid his sword behind his good leg. “Vander, we’re not done yet,” Josan said between ragged breaths.

Vander smiled, “You just don’t know how to die, do you demon?” the general said and slowly made his way towards the dying victim. He raised both of his swords high for the final blow, “Goodbye,” he said as he brought his swords down in unison. Josan, using the remainder of his strength, spun on his good leg, knocking the Vander’s blades to the side and using the momentum created by his motion, drove his other sword through Vander’s abdomen. Shock washed across the his nemesis’s face as Josan’s blade plunged into his gut. Vander’s swords clattered to the ground, his eyes rose to meet silver eyes staring back at him.

“I’m good enough,” Josan said as he wretched his blade free and sending Vander off the side of the battlement into the fires below.

Josan swayed on his feet for a moment as he stared below him. His swords clattered to the ground and a moment later his body followed.