Pumpkin_King
March 1st, 2007, 02:48 PM
This story was written by my dear friend. Some things are a little different than "canon", but I think it makes the story better. Comments are encouraged and welcome.
Chapter 1
Jason Carr crouched on a ledge, watching the sun set. Beneath him, in the valley below, a battle raged. But then that was the norm, here on Valhalla.
On one side were the Orcs, Marros and Humans of the Utgar/Einar alliance. On the other, Elves, Humans, and various Creatures fought for Jandar and Ullar. Atop a rocky outcropping near the mountainside a cadre of Earth Soldiers attempted to oust a position of Orc Warriors. Deathwalkers advanced, firing missiles and bullets into their foes. Elvin archers unleashed volley after volley of arrows into Greek warriors. Samurai parried the blows of medieval knights, while beside them vipers tore into Anubian wolves.
And above it all, Carr watched. Beside him, Dund lay stretched out, watching with half-closed eyes. They had been in this position before, watching hundreds of battles on dozens of battlefields. That was their job. To observe, memorize the tactics of the Valkyrie’s various Generals. When the time was right, Vydar would give the command. And they would fight. For whose side, he didn’t know. And really, he didn’t care.
Not that him and Dund didn’t get to fight. From time to time they slipped into a battle, never turning the tide, but not letting one side come out unscathed. Vydar wanted whoever asked for his help to be desperate, needing of him. But on the other hand, when he did fight, the opponent couldn’t be too strong, too undefeatable.
A roar sounded from below. Mimring, one of the dragons, had entered the fray. He unleashed a swath of flame, pushing back Jandar’s wedge. The mixed line of gun-toting soldiers and Vikings had been close to breaking through the Orc line. Mimring, who Carr knew had been waiting in a nearby cave, had arrived at just the right time. And Jason knew the exact reason for that.
On a hillside behind the battle, a small pavilion was set up. A couple of Einar and Utgar’s generals waited there. Su-Bak-Na towered behind the tent. Valguard, whose deadly Dreadguls had yet to be summoned by Einar. Grimnak, Tornak, and Khosumet would also be inside, the former two’s mounts waiting impatiently outside. But the mastermind of it all, second only to Taelord among Utgar’s generals, was standing in the opening, watching the battle. Much like Carr was, although this being held the fate of the battle in his palm. Or, more like it, fist. Ne-Gok-Sa.
Carr, and Vydar, both knew that without the Marro Warlord, Utgar would have lost long ago. Back when only Jandar and Utgar had entered the fray, and the other three had been on the outside watching. Utgar, despite superior numbers, lacked discipline. The Orcs, Marros, and other dark creatures swarmed instead of marching. They raced into battle after battle, confident of their success. And every time, intelligence and strategy drove them back. Ullar, confident of Jandar’s imminent success, joined with Jandar and were on the verge of victory.
Enter Ne-Gok-Sa. Following Korvack’s death in a rout, which also decimated almost all of the remaining Orc army, he was summoned to take command. Gathering the broken force, he made a stand at the Ford of Golton, in Crumland. Carr, who then had been virtually alone in his watching, remembered the battle with a sort of fond nostalgia.
The remaining Orcs had broken rank almost immediately. They charged the oncoming Jandar soldiers(for Ullar had yet to summon many soldiers, and had only Syvarris traveling with the main army as a representative), and were slaughtered. Grimnak alone, astride his terrible beast, had remained.
Ne-Gok-Sa had placed his ranged soldiers, a few Soulborgs, across the river. They fired across, battering the oncoming soldiers. The 9000, the only large model there, and this still a prototype, had discharged a round into the ground at the front of the army. They diverted around it, now walking alongside the river.
That was when Ne-Gok-Sa struck. He led Grimnak and a band of Marros around the curve in the river, baiting the opposing army. When they took the bait, Ne-Gok-Sa struck.
Rising out of the water, dozens of Marro soldiers had fired into the flank of the Jandar army. The human soldier, Drake Alexander, turned his soldiers towards them. They launched grenades into the river, blowing Marros into pieces. Carr almost laughed remembering the look on Alexander’s face when the pieces re-grew into more Marro soldiers.
Meanwhile, Ne-Gok-Sa had advanced, pinning the Jandar army. By now, there was over three hundred Marro warriors filling the stream, now climbing the bank. Ne-Gok-Sa gave the signal, and the 9000 began firing explosives into the army.
Now that the reborn Marro were engaged with Drake’s soldiers, Jandar had no ranged. Thorgrim gave the word, and the retreated. Ne-Gok-Sa followed, keeping to the water. Three weeks later, he stopped, having regained almost all of Crumland and Lindesfarme. Within another month, more Orcs were summoned, along with a Kyrie warrior, Taelord, who took control of the army. But he wasn’t stupid. In battle, Ne-Gok-Sa still called the shots, as they said back on Earth. Then Einar joined, bringing with them Roman soldiers and Samurai. And the battle was just beginning.
Five years later, Ne-Gok-Sa stood watching the battle. Carr was sure that if he was close enough to see, Ne-Gok-Sa would be wearing a cold smile. The ninjas had appeared at the rear of Ullar’s column, and were cutting into the soldiers there. Marcus, the great Roman general of the IX Legion, had broken through the Vikings line. And now Grimnak and Tornak rode down into the battle, following Ornak through into the fray. Within minutes, the horns sounded. Jandar and Ullar’s troops began the retreat.
Carr, who had hidden outside the now General Drake Alexander’s tent the night before, knew what was coming. Having overheard exactly what was planned in case of a needed retreat, he waited in anticipation of the coming action.
Three quarters of the army were now through the mouth of the valley. A streaming mass of Orcs, Werewolves, and various Utgar beasts streamed after. Then it happened.
With a shriek, a huge white form rose from the snowy mountain top high above. The great dragon Nilfheim hurtled down, pouring icy flame into the army. A movement from the rocks, and Jotun rose above the now panicking soldiers. His sword came down, cleaving through a half-dozen Orcs before reaching the ground. The army, which only moments before had been triumphant and certain in not only a victory, but a rout, now raced the other way. Past the bodies lying on the field. Past the ordered lines of Greeks and Romans marching in an orderly retreat. Past the Marro warriors surrounding the tented hill, laying covering fire towards the now returning Jandar soldiers. Past Ne-Gok-Sa’s motionless form. Even from this distance, Carr’s Valhalla gifted eyes could see the cold, silent anger on his face.
Carr smiled slightly, then got to his feet. Dund following, he began the trek around the mountain to one of Vydar’s hidden outposts. Another battle done. Another report due. Carr sighed. For not being in this war, he sure did a lot of work because of it.
Chapter 2
Ne-Gok-Sa strode through the camp, one target in his mind; Utgar’s command tent. It rose up in the center of the encampment, a horrible black and red mountain of canvas, jagged and hooked poles holding it upright. Compared to the mundane grey tents around it, it was glorious.
The sort of tent Ne-Gok-Sa should have. If anyone would let him command. A snarl raised itself to his lips, but he forced it down. If he lost his cool, the Marros under his control would start acting up. A slight disadvantage to Mind Shackling, but one he didn’t mind. Hiding his emotions was a skill that he had now mastered, a skill that often kept his counterparts off guard. Not that any of them could read a Marro as it was.
He continued his stride through the sea of tents. Einar’s human warriors were spread in an arc facing the valley where Jandar and Ullar celebrated their victory. Cheers and singing rose from the darkness. To their credit(and it seemed the credit always went to Einar’s more disciplined soldiers) they seemed totally nonplussed. As if they knew they weren’t to blame for this loss, only the most recent of many since Taelord took over.
Ne-Gok-Sa nodded stoically to a Samurai, one of the Izumi who had been with the army since Einar had joined. They, unlike Utgar’s soldiers, had always conducted themselves with discipline, self-control, and skill in battle. The Orc filth and everything else that had been added since had only hindered the army’s ability to fight, not helped it.
Past the humans were the Orcs, guarding the area in front of Utgar’s command tent. They sat around with bottles of putrid liquid, drinking into the pits of despair. Which, with Orcs, generally led to angry fights, again reducing their numbers. Not that it much mattered with this bunch.
Then he was at the tent. Striding past the Kyrie guards, he entered through the gaping opening, looking like the entrance to fiery death. And maybe it was.
On either side, stoic red Kyrie stood at attention, their red wings open wide, overlapping the guard to the side. Four on either side. Added to the pair outside the tent flap and the two at attention at the far end, a dozen Kyrie attended their Master. Ne-Gok-Sa wondered which one it really was.
A long rectangular table sat in the middle of the tent. Chairs surrounded the table, but none of them were being used. All of the present generals and warlords were standing. Ne-Gok-Sa allowed his stare to travel over each one of them in turn.
Closest to him was the longest serving of Utgar’s commanders, Grimnak. He had been there from the beginning, summoned even before Ne-Gok-Sa. The Orc Champion served as General of the Orc armies back on Grut. Utgar had snatched him seconds before he died of old age. A couple of sips from a Wellspring, and he was ready to serve again. Untypical of an Orc, Grimnak followed orders well, and had never resented(or voiced resentment, rather) that he wasn’t higher up. Ne-Gok-Sa didn’t like him(he didn’t like anyone but his hounds) but he thought him a competent officer.
Behind the venerable Orc, who was holding himself upright by his battleaxe, stood the two Orc lieutenants, Tornak and Ornak. The brothers had been summoned almost three years apart here in Valhalla, although almost 20 years had separated their summons on Grut. Ornak, though being the younger born brother, was now 16 years older. Weird how this time stuff played out.
Past them was Khosumet the Dark Lord, as he had been called on his home world. Whatever Dark Lord meant. All Ne-Gok-Sa knew was that he was a hot-tempered beast who couldn’t control his own troops. The werewolf was fingering his scythe now, as if contemplating trying to take command of the army.
Opposite the Utgar commanders were Einar’s representatives. The Valkyrie himself was gone, working on the next round of summons. Standing at attention, all three of them, were Marcus Decimus Gallus, Roman General; Parmenio, Greek Warlord; and Valguard, proud leader of the Dreadguls. Those were men that Ne-Gok-Sa would choose to have as officers. With those men beneath him, he could be victorious. But, due to the pair of dark-winged Kyrie at the far end of the table, it was not to be.
Utgar sat on a black onyx throne, veined with red. A golden goblet rested in his gloved fist, a deep red wine swirling about. The Valkyrie was bedecked in all of his glorious(gaudy and unnecessary, in Ne-Gok-Sa’s opinion) armor. His axe rested upright against the left side of the throne. Taelord rested against the right.
Ne-Gok-Sa suppressed the urge to charge forward and gut the Kyrie. He supposed Utgar would probably stop him before he could make it, but he would like to try. To see his black blood running down Ne-Gok-Sa’s sword would be the ultimate triumph. But if he wished to ever have command of the army, he needed to be patient.
Nodding to his fellow commanders, he took his place between Taelord and the other Utgar officers. That much at least was his due. Ne-Gok-Sa flicked a glance at Taelord, nodded stiffly, then returned his gaze to Utgar as he stood up.
“Now that you are all here, we can talk.” The imposing Valkyrie allowed his gaze to sweep the room. “Why are we camped here, when we should be camped on the other side of the battle. Why do I hear singing from Jandar’s troops, when they should be broken? Why did my army lose today!!”
No one moved.
“Ne-Gok-Sa. What happened?” This was it. If he didn’t snatch this opportunity, he wouldn’t get another chance.
“Stupidity happened. Poor leadership happened. This army that you have handpicked lost control. Ignoring orders, they charged after the fleeing enemy. The commanders standing beside me, who are not under orders to obey my commands, went after them. Encouraged this break down of control. And so when the enemy sprung their trap, they were caught. Repelled. Afraid, they retreated. Einar’s able soldiers and my Marro warriors protected our rear. Without them, you would have no army left.”
Ne-Gok-Sa paused for a moment. A low growl from beside him alerted him to Khosumet’s growing rage. He pushed on. “If you wish to win this war, you need a new command structure. This man beside you wasn’t even present at the battle. I need command. Give me control over this army, and you will win. If not, and you leave it up to this rabble, you will be defeated. You will lose your allies. Your army. And dignity you had left. Make the decision.”
Taelord’s hand slid along the back of the throne, inching towards Utgar’s axe. Ne-Gok-Sa watched it for a moment, then returned his gaze to his general. The Valkyrie stroked his chin thoughtfully, totally nonplussed by Ne-Gok-Sa’s statement.
“By control, you mean mind shackling?” Ne-Gok-Sa bowed his head once. “Of the army. The officers, of course, would be totally in control of their minds, but under my command.”
Khosumet snarled, and one of the Orc brothers gnashed his teeth. The humans across the table seemed interested in the proceedings, but didn’t seem to be leaning either way. Utgar was similarly neutral.
Taelord, however, was not. “Sir, you can’t seriously be considering this. This Marro filth just lost a decisive battle. Add that to all the other battles he has lost over the past three years.”
Ne-Gok-Sa leveled his stare at the Valkyrie general. “With all due respect, my lord, who has been in command of your army over those three years?”
Taelord swallowed, and his hand reached the axe. Utgar raised a hand, and Taelord froze. “Peace, Taelord. We are leaving.”
He fixed Ne-Gok-Sa with a piercing gaze. “Let me speak with Einar at the summoning pool. Your suggestions have merit, but I have allies in this war.” Utgar nodded to the Einar Warlords, then stalked out. The Minions followed, and lastly Taelord. He bared his pointed teeth at Ne-Gok-Sa as he passed. “Don’t think you’ll get by easy. Your days of command are over.”
As soon as the tent flap closed, Khosumet whirled. “Fiend!” He lunged, but Ne-Gok-Sa easily side-stepped him. Passing by Grimnak, the old Orc nodded slowly. Not that it mattered, but Ne-Gok-Sa felt somehow comforted; almost as if he wanted the aging warrior’s approval. But that was absurd, so Ne-Gok-Sa continued out. He was looking forward to Utgar’s return.
Chapter 3
The sun crested over the mountain top. Its warm, golden light filled the valley, illuminating the ranks of soldiers marching. The knights armor glinted brightly, betraying their advance to the opposing army. Not that the other army wasn’t already aware.
Katari Omo sharpened his blade against a stone jutting up from the soil. Beside him, Cruzan twirled his twin blades in patterns designed to block enemy blades. The third member of their trio, Taki Aritoro, their leader, stood staring at the upcoming army. The three had spent many a morning like this, standing at attention waiting for battle. In the two years they had been here in Valhalla, the Tagawa, as they were called, had seen almost constant action.
Not that the Tagawa were against that. Back on Earth, the three of them had been renowned for their… killing. They were assassins, trained in the art of killing silently, secretly, or blatantly. Katari preferred the silent approach, but Cruzan was all about in-your-face killing. But then, everyone had a favorite way to kill.
Horns sounded as the marching columns of Jandar soldiers halted. Katari watched as the front lines split, turning to the side. He tensed, prepared for what was coming. The Marro Warlord, Ne-Gok-Sa, had predicted what would happen first.
Behind the first ranks were Ullar archers. Elves bedecked in forest hues bent their bows, aiming high. Katari set his feet. And then the arrows flew. The instant they left the bows, Katari launched himself forward, running between his Samurai brethren. Behind the Einar ranks, Utgar’s soldiers broke to either side. Majority of the arrows would fall harmlessly in the hole they had created. Not Katari could tell. He was focused now on the warm bodies before him.
Within seconds they were there. The Jandar knights barely had time to draw their swords. Not that it helped them any.
Katari’s first foe raised his sword in a basic defensive posture. Katari just leapt over him, slitting the tip of his sword between his foe’s armor as he landed. Then he whirled, blocking a pair of sword thrusts, pushing the second one back into it’s bearer. He turned to the other attacker, and dispatched him within seconds.
With a roar, Cruzan broke through the first line to stand beside him. Together they charged the next line of defense; the Elvin archers. The lead archer fired towards him. Katari ducked under it and rolled, coming up alongside him. A flick of the wrist, and a head fell to the ground.
Another archer fired point blank. Katari pulled up his blade, deflecting the arrow into another Elf’s throat. Then he stabbed, impaling his attacker. Sensing a threat, he pivoted to his right. An elf crumpled from where he had been aiming towards Katari. Master Aritoro wiped his blade clean on the Elf’s cloak, and nodded to Katari. He grinned back, then looked for another foe.
Soon after, a roar sounded. A chill rode the air towards him. To Katari, it didn’t feel natural. His reflexes kicked in just in time. He flipped to one side, landing beside Aritoro. A swath of ice splattered the ground in an arc, enveloping the Einar warriors fighting there. Katari’s gaze flicked upwards, to catch the dragon Nilfheim turning around for another pass.
With a snarl that cascaded off of the rocks, Utgar’s dragon Mimring rose into the air. A blazing fireball was hurled towards Nilfheim. Katari was unable to follow the rest, however, for a wedge consisting of Vikings and Elvin warrior-women charged into the fray.
The battle continued for another three hours, neither side budging. But then the tide turned.
Jotun, the giant, entered the battle. He battered his way through ranks of Orcs, an unstoppable force. One of Einar’s commanders ordered the Tagawa and their Izumi brothers over to assist. They charged in that direction, but never made it.
With a shriek that split Katari’s ears, another dragon entered the battle. His iridescent green scales reflected sunlight. He fell upon Mimring instantly, and the two dragons beat back the smaller red one. As he fell to the ground, they swooped low over the armies.
Nilfheim landed amongst the Marro soldiers, but the green beast alighted directly in front of the Samurai. It snarled, displaying teeth sharper then even Katari’s blade. Glancing to the side, he exchanged glanced with Aritoro and they leapt forward, one to either side. Katari feinted one way, then struck to the other. But the dragon was ready. It blocked with one clawed foot, then flicked its tail. It impacted Katari’s chest, sending him flying in a flash of pain.
Katari’s last memory before everything went dark was the dragon snapping up another Samurai in its jaws, and snapping him in half.
Chapter 4
Carr slipped behind a large stone, at the base of the mountain. Past the rock the battle began to slip apart. The combined might of the two dragons overwhelmed the opposing force. The Orcs had already fled, followed closely by the werewolves and their leader. Grimnak sat atop his mount amongst the Marro warriors, looking, well, grim. Jason grinned at that.
The only thing keeping the battle going were the Einar troops. The Roman Warlord, Marcus Decimus Gallus, held his line of Legionnaires. Parmenio and his Greeks punished the enemy vipers, cutting through the reptilian fighters at a steady rate. But Jandar’s knights were coming in from the other side, where Utgar had been holding the line, and were close to cutting off all retreat for Einar. The Samurai were engaged with Charos, Ullar’s dragon, but even they couldn’t hold their own against the forest King. As he watched, Charos ate up one of them, and the remaining few gathered their wounded and fell back.
But there wouldn’t be anywhere to fall back to. Sir Denrick and his Knights of Weston were coming around, and in less then five minutes would have Einar’s troops surrounded. That was why Carr had descended from his lofty perch. They would pass right past him to finish their maneuver.
With a quiet whine Dund came up beside him. Carr glanced down, and nodded. Dund slid around the rock, and faced the column. He whined again, louder this time, and the front lines of soldiers began to falter. Dund’s crippling gaze, as it were.
Carr leapt over the rock, landing and rolling, then coming up in a bound. Three strides later, he covered 100 feet and stood beside the column. A few well placed sword strokes, and four soldiers lay on the ground. Not dead, but immobile. Carr didn’t kill unless he needed to. Especially not humans.
Carr slid between soldiers, toppling more and more knights. The entire column had halted by now. Dund loped out of hiding and started snapping at the forward knights. Jandar’s soldiers began to fall back, although the middle was now trying to fight whatever foe was in their midst. The result was their well-formed column degenerating into a frantic bunch of frightened warriors, uncertain of what their foe was. Dund now slipped back into hiding; he was not a master of ghost-walking such as Carr was.
Jason slid around the opposite side of the haphazard frenzy of knights, now firing shots over their heads. When panic would have began, Denrick wrested control back into his hands. At his commands, they now halted, hunkering down in a circle with shields raised. The wounded were quickly gathered in the center.
Satisfied with his work, Carr retreated to the mountains. Gaining a higher vantage point, he observed the rest of the battle.
The Samurai now were able to retreat, and reached the Marro held hill. They skirted it and continued on, after what looked like receiving orders from Ne-Gok-Sa. They would be commands on what point to stop and defend; where Ne-Gok-Sa would set up the next camp once the rest of his soldiers were away from the battle.
A horn sounded now, low and mournful, reverberating over the battlefield. Although it didn’t happen immediately, within minutes Einar’s forces had formed up and began a drive out of the battle. With the Marros providing cover fire, much like the battle three days ago, Einar’s forces began an orderly retreat.
Carr watched until Jandar’s forces had halted at the hill where the Utgar/Einar commanders had watched from, then began the trek over the mountain to the other side. Vydar needed to know what was going on, as usual. And Dund hadn’t yet learned to talk…
Chapter 5
Ne-Gok-Sa stood at attention as he watched the small swarm of black shapes fly closer. Utgar and his Minions. With any luck, Taelord would not be among them. Around him, the other Utgar commanders stood at attention.
It had been two weeks since their most recent battle. They had fallen back three times since then, but were now holding steady at the Pass of Rohjek, which led through the mountains into the Upper reaches of Bleakewood. If Ne-Gok-Sa and this army couldn’t hold here, then they would have little chance of defending any of northern Valhalla.
Utgar landed before them, the Minions alighting behind him. No Taelord. If Ne-Gok-Sa was prone to smiling, he would have, but he hadn’t smiled in… never. Marros never smiled; just a way of life. One of Einar’s soldiers had once suggested that was because there were no Marro women. Ne-Gok-Sa wasn’t sure what that meant.
Utgar waved them inside. He sat down on his throne; the Minions lined up. Everyone else sat at the table. After a short meal, Utgar stood.
“The summoning was successful. In fact, Einar himself is arriving with the new recruits.” The air on one side of the tent shimmered; the opening of a portal. A large, muscled Kyrie stepped through.
Einar was the most human looking of the Valkyrie. In fact, nothing about him was un-human other then his wings. But the person coming out behind him was decidedly un-human. Taelord.
Following them were a group of summonings. A Samurai commander and archers; Empress Kiova, as she was introduced, for Einar. A Kyrie for Utgar, along with a collection of ghost-like Shades. A collection of Zombies, along with a group of Orcs from Grut. These all filed out, except for the Empress and the Utgar Kyrie, Runa. Then one final person came through the portal, stopping just as the portal dissipated into nothing. A Marro, but one unlike Ne-Gok-Sa had ever seen. Like one he had only ever been told about in Marro history, which was recited rather then written down.
A Marro Shaman. Standing before him was a Marro Shaman. Commonly known as a War-witch, they were said to have been masters of the mind, having invented the Mind Shackling technique. Before the words were even out of his mouth, Ne-Gok-Sa knew what Utgar would say.
“I have thought over your offer and decided that you were right, Ne-Gok-Sa. This army will function better in the control of a Marro. But not you. No; not you. This is Kee-Mo-Shi. She will take command of the armies. You are relieved of command. I will send you back to Marro.”
Taelord began to laugh. Grimnak stood up. “Sir, Ne-Gok-Sa has proven himself worthy. He’s the best-” “Silence!” Utgar quivered with rage. “I have spoken!” The Greek, Parmenio, spoke something quietly to Einar. The Valkyrie in turn walked over to Utgar, and began speaking to him.
Ne-Gok-Sa realized now was the time to leave. He backed out of the tent, turned, and began running. As he went, he called his Marros to him. They ceased their rest actions and marched towards the Pass, where Ne-Gok-Sa was headed. If he could reach the castle…
With a roar, Taelord flew out of the tent and hurtled towards Ne-Gok-Sa. The Marro calmly pivoted and blocked with his sword, the momentum knocking the red Kyrie smashing to the ground. He leapt to his feet, but was smoothly knocked back down by the dragon that landed atop him.
Ne-Gok-Sa leapt smoothly up onto the dragon, behind Su-Bak-Na. They took off. Ne-Gok-Sa knew for a fact that Mimring was still unable to fly after his battle with the two dragons. That left only Taelord and the Minions to pursue them by air, and Taelord was currently unconscious in the dirt.
Below, Me-Burq-Sa led a force of Marros out from the main force. Ne-Gok-Sa noticed Utgar now standing outside of the tent, shouting orders. The Minions rose into the air, turning towards Ne-Gok-Sa. He propelled the dragon faster away, but the smaller, faster Minions were soon to catch up.
A gunshot rang out from below, and the lead Minion plummeted. Another gunshot, and a second one fell from the sky. The remaining ones pulled off, searching for this new threat. Ne-Gok-Sa, looking down, saw a single humanoid figure melt into the shadows.
Chapter 6
Katari was unsure what exactly had happened. He knew there had been some sort of fight between Utgar’s ranks. Gunfire, at least, was involved. Being bedridden due to his injury, he had been inside a tent and was unable to see the exact details of what happened. Cruzan came and told him the Marros, including Ne-Gok-Sa, had left. And that something or someone had shot down two Minions. They were dead, straight through the head. And now Utgar was leaving, taking his entire army with him.
Einar was staying here with his army to guard the pass. He had brought with him new reinforcements, including a Samurai general, Kaemon Awa. He came by later and met with the three Tagawa.
“Honor. Discipline. Victory.” Katari and his two brethren returned the gesture. Kaemon gripped hands with Aritoro. “It is great to meet the legendary Tagawa Samurai. I learned of you in school. To have elite assassins at my disposal of your skill; no one will stop us.” After inquiring about Katari’s injury, he left.
“Seems good enough.” Katari laughed. “He thinks highly of us; he must be good.”
Three weeks later, after a rainstorm of monsoon-like proportions, Jandar struck. It seemed Ullar had split off, so it was just one army on one army. Einar was ready.
Katari was placed on rearguard, last defense in case of a rout. He didn’t mind; Tagawa didn’t fight unless they were totally healthy. So he sharpened his sword, and waited.
Jandar struck straight-off, a wedge straight to the center of Einar’s position. Marcus and Parmenio together drove them back. Then the riposte, as the Samurai on one side and the Imperium and Empress Kiova on the other came around in a pincer. After an hour or so, they fell back to their former position. And held there, against three more Jandar assaults, until the sun set and the fighting ended for the day.
This went on for five days, until Katari was deemed fit for battle. The next morning, he awaited Jandar’s assault eagerly; it never came. Instead, the army fell back and just waited, encamped. The fighting was over for a while.
Carr had decided to track Utgar’s army as they chased Ne-Gok-Sa and his Marros. He was quite pleased with his shots a few weeks before, when he had picked off the two Minions. Head shots. Carr had fired on a whim, deciding that if Ne-Gok-Sa got away there would be less initial loss of life, and more long, drawn out fighting that would weary Utgar’s entire army. That kind of fighting was what Vydar liked most.
A trio of female agents, the Nakita Agents, had taken up observations of the Gorge battlefield. And his personal students, the Krav Maga Agents, were tracking the Ullar split off. They kept in touch, if need-be, via remote transmitters. Carr kept the earpiece in at all times, and there was a receiver in his tooth to pick up his voice. Amazing the technology Vydar just threw at them.
He stroked the pistol on his left hip. It was the pistol he had found as a child, orphaned and left to die in an alleyway. It was in a pile of trash; someone had probably ditched it running from the cops or something. Jason had taken it, cleaned it, and used it to survive. It had been only short one shot when he found it, giving him six bullets overall. Jason kept those same six bullets for twelve years. He would shoot alley cats, rodents, and pigeons with it; he always recovered the bullet. One time Jason had been cornered by a pair of thugs; he had fired one shot straight into the air, and they had ran. He caught it neatly as it fell.
Soon after, at about fourteen, he joined a circus. Carr did whatever; sharp shooting, choreographed fighting, even some of the stunts with tigers and wolves. For four years he toured with them, until one day their train crashed. Carr had leapt free, diving down into the river just seconds before it blew. No survivors were ever found.
Carr went back to the city he had grown up in, and soon after began almost a house for homeless teens. He taught them to fight; no rules street fighting. Krav Maga, he named it. Some of his first pupils started a formal orphanage, the Krav Maga Orphanage. Original.
Carr trained the kids, giving them the tools to defend themselves. Many went into the army, their skills invaluable and many times earning them positions as special ops units, SWAT members, Navy SEALS. Carr was proud of them.
Until that night, six years ago now. The fire. Someone set the orphanage on fire. Carr was helping people out when the roof collapsed. And Carr had found himself here in Valhalla. Vydar had walked him through what had happened, how he had been summoned just as he was about to die.
After doing some.. tasks with Vydar, the Valkyrie had performed another summoning… this time pulling Krav Maga Agents from that same moment in time, at the collapse of the orphanage. Giving him an Elite-trained army to start with. Not only were they all excellent fighters, but they were stealthy, which was exactly what Vydar needed.
And still needs, Carr thought wryly. Sometimes he wished he was back on Earth, giving those young kids a purpose in life. Here, he was just serving some alien’s whims. But the simple fact was that if it wasn’t for Vydar, he would be dead, him and many of the Kravs. So he didn’t complain.
Chapter 7
Ne-Gok-Sa stood on the battlement, staring at Utgar’s forces aligning themselves outside. This was his castle, Al-Gon-Tya, Castle of the Falls. It clung to a cliff-face, looking like it was growing from the rock. A series of waterfalls cascaded through the structure, pooling layer by layer until it dropped down into the gorge to continue towards the sea. To an army of Marros who thrived around water, it was paradise. Which was why Ne-Gok-Sa had ordered it built four years ago. As a fortress impenetrable if defended by Marros.
Which was what entirely peopled it right now. He was confident that Utgar would be unable to breach the walls. Marros needed only water to survive, gleaning all the nutrients they needed from the clear liquid. Marros also moved faster, and were stronger, the more water there was in the air.
But the main bonus of this water-filled keep was that Ne-Gok-Sa had an endless supply of soldiers. Marros had the unique ability to clone themselves. Water speeded this process tenfold. In the three days since Ne-Gok-Sa had arrived, his army had almost quadrupled. Instead of two hundred soldiers he now had over 750. The castle was large enough to easily hold two thousand or more, so room was not a problem. Especially with Mind-Shackled Marros, who had no need of recreation or comfortable sleeping quarters. The main problem was that of Su-Bak-Na’s dragon, who did need more then water to sustain himself. But for the time being the venerable Marro took the beast over the mountains to eat, which would work until Utgar set up a siege through the air.
Ne-Gok-Sa could see the Orcs, Wolves, and the monstrous Krug arraying themselves before the lower wall. That wall was almost a hundred feet tall, so there was almost no chance of climbing or scaling it. Utgar’s only possible plan of attack would be to bust through the gate, probably combined with an aerial over-the-wall attack. Ne-Gok-Sa had marksmen lining the second wall, and more down on the first level ready to fire at anyone coming in through the gate. Me-Burq-Sa was up on the third level with the close-range drones, training them and preparing them for battle.
The Marro Warlord fingered the device in his hand, a gruklet. The Marro form of a grenade, it would explode on contact with water. Ne-Gok-Sa had a group of Marros working on catapults that would launch larger versions over the walls, along with leather pouches containing water. On contact with the ground(or something more animated) the pouch would break, the gruklet would explode, and damage would be done.
That was only part of his plan, of course. Ne-Gok-Sa never planned a battle dependent on one tactic. That was poor leadership. Something that fool Taelord would do.
There was one thing Ne-Gok-Sa was worried about. While he had control over every Marro under his command(with the exceptions of Me-Burq-Sa and Su-Bak-Na) Kee-Mo-Shi had the power of Mind-Shackling as well. Would it be possible for the Marro Shaman to wrest away Ne-Gok-Sa’s troops?
He had no way of knowing until the time came. And when it did, he would be ready.
Chapter 8
Carr stood and watched the two sides get into position. From his vantage point on the mountainside, he could see both Utgar’s army outside the castle and Ne-Gok-Sa’s Marros inside. Carr didn’t really care who won, but his bets were on Ne-Gok-Sa. The Warlord was too much of a strategic genius to lose this one, but then, anything could happen. And something that intrigued Carr was the spider-looking Marro that scuttled around with Utgar, Taelord, and Khosumet. The Orc general, Grimnak, just sat his mount, staring at the castle.
Carr wondered what had happened to cause this rift. Probably, Ne-Gok-Sa had complained about the state of the troops he commanded. But surely even Utgar could see that his soldiers were wild and unruly. So why drive out your best leader? And if Utgar did win, and capture Ne-Gok-Sa, did he mean to force the Warlord to swear service and loyalty, or would the Valkyrie kill him?
The battle was only moments, it seemed, from beginning. The Orcs were restless, moving and clanging their spears and swords against shields. The Werewolves howled, their calls echoing off the mountains. The Marro stronghold was eerily silent. Carr saw Utgar rise into the air, his axe held out beside him. He raised the ornate weapon, holding it up, quivering just slightly. The army tensed.
The instant his arm fell, they charged. Utgar stayed airborne, doing something with his axe. Some sort of ritual, Carr thought. But he had only a second to contemplate it, before the Marros struck.
Huge green balls were flung over the battlements, with smaller brown, presumably leather, pouches attached by bits of rope. The orbs crashed into the ground just in front of, and directly into the middle of, the charging forces.
The heavier green spheres struck first, and did nothing but impact. But the very second the pouches hit and burst open, spreading water everywhere, the orbs exploded. The explosions were small, but the eerie green fire spread like wildfire, igniting the soldiers. The werewolves especially were hindered, their fur alighting and roasting them alive.
But even this didn’t stop the charge. The Orcs continued on, along with whatever of the werewolves were untouched. They neared the gate, which from Carr’s viewpoint looked impenetrable, at least to a bunch of foot soldiers.
A current of energy redirected Carr’s eyes, back to the airborne Utgar. He was now glowing with a red light, emanating from the tip of his axe. Rising higher into the air, he pointed it forward. Carr instantly realized what he was going to do. His hunch proved correct when a beam of pure, dark energy funneled out, striking the gate to the Marro castle seconds before the charging Orcs reached it.
And swarmed right through it.
Immediately, the Mind Shackled Marros opened fire, pelting the Orcs with energy beams. Carr watched Me-Burq-Sa charge out, leading a brigade of spear-wielding drones. The Orcs and Marros engaged into a sort of stalemate.
The Minions swirled in the air, circling the aged Marro Su-Bak-Na-Bak-Na and his dragon. There weren’t but 8 Minions, so the dragon was able to fend them off for the moment. If Taelord was up there, the battle would be over. But Carr had noticed just how little Taelord actually fought in battle nowadays. Poor leadership. A trait with Utgar, with the exception of the Marro Warlord currently defending this castle.
Carr watched as Marros with bundles on their backs climbed down onto the top of the front wall. Lining the walls, they dropped the large sacks down into the pile. As they fell, one sack billowed open and Carr saw more of the green orbs. The fighting continued, however, due to the fact that no water had been dropped as of yet.
Due to the fact that Utgar had no range currently set up to repel them, the Marros stayed up on the wall. Marros on the second wall dropped guns to them, passing them out like a robotic assembly-line. In time, each Marro checked its gun, aimed, and took shots down into the fray. That was when the Orc archers formed up outside of the wall and began to fire.
The Marros turned as one and redirected their fire. An intense firefight broke out. The Marros had better aim, but they were outnumbered and were more exposed. Fighting continued like this, both inside the courtyard and outside, for almost another hour. Marro reinforcements climbed down, each new soldier with a sack containing an explosive, and dropped it below. Then they would catch a gun, and take a place on the wall.
Utgar finally sent in the big guns. Krug and Khosumet the Dark lord charged to join the fray. Khosumet stopped at the gate, staring in, while Krug stormed into the fight. That was when the water was diverted.
The waterfall, which dropped off of the side of the second wall into the ravine, was suddenly diverted to run straight off the second wall. Right into the courtyard. As it began to come over, Carr saw Me-Burq-Sa turn and gallop up the stairway, a large group of Drones following. Enough stayed behind to prevent the immediate advance of the Orcs, however. Two seconds later, the first of the water struck the stone floor.
First one, then the second, third, and fourth, then they all went off, a deafening explosion that shook the entire mountainside. The first wall cracked, and leaned over at an unhealthy angle. The Marros atop it had braced themselves, and now unleashed shots down into the courtyard, eliminating any surviving Orcs.
A low moan sounded, and Carr saw Krug drag himself out of the rubble. As the Marros shifted aim, the Orcs let loose a volley, dropping a dozen or more. A Trio of Minions now dropped down, knocking free many of the remaining Marro gunners. The small bunch left standing turned and retreated back to the next level. That was when all of them stopped.
The entire Marro army ceased moving. All of the visible Drones, Warriors, all that Carr could see. Stopped. He immediately turned towards Utgar’s camp. Standing on a small rise was the Spider-Marro. He would be sure to get intel from Vydar as soon as he could. But for now, he sat back to see what would happen next.
Chapter 9
Ne-Gok-Sa staggered back into the wall, almost falling from his high perch. Something - or someone - had a clamp on his mind.
He pushed back against the dark hand. It shifted, and the squadron of Marro Elite surrounding Ne-Gok-Sa moved, taking back their defensive positions. He had some control back.
Ne-Gok-Sa knew who it was. Kee-Mo-Shi. She was trying to wrest his army from him. The Warlord pushed against the hand some more, but it wasn’t budging this time. He turned and stepped down into the pool of water, enriching himself through his pores. And he pushed again. Harder, as if the dark hand was smothering him, preventing him from breathing. And in a way, it was.
The hand moved some more, and he heard shots resume further down in the castle. The dark hand now completely lifted, leaving only a finger of touch. Then it clamped down harder, and Ne-Gok-Sa was flung backwards.
Laying face-up in the pool, he struggled to find a loose point. But Kee-Mo-Shi was too powerful. She beat him back, until blackness now began covering his real vision as well. His last sight was of an Elite pointing its gun at his face.
Katari sat on a rock, taking a turn at watch duty. In front of him lay the lands of Upper Bleakewood, Einar/Utgar controlled lands. Utgar should return any day now, his commanders told them, and then they would bust through Jandar’s lines on the opposite side. But for now, they waited.
He entertained himself by imagining what it would be like for the next battle. Katari would battle his way to that dragon, and strike him down. If he hadn’t taken off already. If he had, he would go for the General, Alexander. Katari remembered reading about some great conqueror, Alexander the Great. He smiled wryly. That this man thought to gain strength from that name was amusing, but absurd. Katari would strike him down, and that would be the end of that.
A slight movement caught his eye. His head snapped up, but he couldn’t see anything. The forest began about three hundred feet off, thick trees filled with vines and bushy shrubs. There was no chance an army could travel through the forest, except on the main road, and Katari could plainly see no one was traveling on that.
A slight almost-noise reached his ear, the kind of sound that probably didn’t exist. A trick of the mind. He was letting himself get scared. Even if an army was there, no one would attack during the day. That was why Einar only posted a single guard on this side during the day. He then doubled the guard at night, when an attack was more likely to attack. Kept the troops well rested.
A glint of light off of something shiny set Katari’s sense totally aware. Something was definitely out there. He opened his mouth to shout, at the same time reaching for his sword. That was when the arrow came whizzing out of the trees.
“We’re under attack!” Came out of his mouth as his sword came out, knocking the arrow out of the air. Katari leapt to his feet, and he heard movement in the camp behind him. But what unnerved him was the shout that rang out from the other side of the Pass. “They come!”
A two-pronged attack. Somehow, Ullar must have gotten around into Bleakewood, and were now trapping Einar and his troops into a pincer. Katari was ready though: let them come!
A volley of arrows now came out of the forest, and Katari back-flipped behind the rock. There was a roar, and the green dragon rose from the trees. A wedge of the female Elf warriors came out, charging forward under the cover of the archers.
Aritoro came up beside him. “We’re to hold them off until Einar can get the portal open. Then we’re falling back to Einar’s castle. No heroics.” They exchanged grins. “Well, not too many.”
Then Cruzan was there, and they leapt up as one, catching the advancing Elves off-guard. Katari skewered the first soldier, as Aritoro mirrored his movements and Cruzan just slashed out and ran forward.
Three hours later, Katari suspected he had more kills that day then hairs on his head. Which wasn’t hard, since his head was shaved almost bald; only a small braid dangled down behind his ear.
Aritoro had a deep gash on his sword arm, so he was fighting with his off-hand. Cruzan was covered in blood, probably as much his as his foes. And still they came. Vipers, Elves, Monks. An unending wave.
The other squads of Samurai held the line to either side; the stoic Izumi; the frenzied Kozuke; the Tagawa archers, students of the same teachings as Katari and his brethren; and their new leader, Kaemon Awa, fighting alongside Hatamoto Taro.
And the line was holding. But it couldn’t for much longer. Katari knew that Einar either need to get that portal open, or they would collapse. Einar, in the sense of his army, would be destroyed.
Katari blocked another sword thrust from a she-elf and bounced it to the side, beheading an overly eager Viper. Katari brought the butt of his sword up and knocked the elf to the ground. Then he turned to the right, hearing movement. Another Elf. He blocked, riposted, struck. It was like an automatic movement now. Sweat half-blinded him, fatigue slowed his muscles. But the training that had been drilled into him for thirty years before he was allowed to fight drove him on, kept him alive. Held the line.
Then the sound. The blessed sound of Einar’s trumpets, calling the retreat. Einar had opened the portal. Just by walking through it, they would be instantly transported to Einar’s castle. The sheer amount of power needed to open a portal, however, probably drained Einar to the point of death. But Katari knew it wasn’t out of any love for his troops; Einar was a winner. And he knew that without an army, he wouldn’t win.
That’s why Einar’s troops respected him so much. He knew what it took to win, and he drove his soldiers to that point. Victory was something within their reach during almost every battle. The entire army, disciplined soldiers all, fought for their leader. And now their leader was repaying that loyalty by saving as many of them as he could.
With a quick glance to either side, Katari back-flipped, landing on his hands and kept going until he was out of the fray. Landing on his feet, he began backing up. The other Samurai broke off and began charging for the tents. Ullar’s army charged after, and was met with a volley of arrows from Roman archers. As the Tagawa archers passed the Romans, they nodded. A hundred feet further, right at the outer tents, they turned, knelt, aimed, and fired. This allowed the Romans to stand and fall back.
Katari reached the command tent in the midst of a flurry of activity. Every Einar soldier was marching into the tent; even in this chaos, they kept to their ranks. The Samurai lined up and waited their turn. Less then a minute later, the Greeks were through. Katari came through the tent. There, against the far wall, a blue-white portal swirled, looking like stars shining up from the water. Katari plunged through.
Chapter 10
Ne-Gok-Sa opened his eyes. The first thing he noticed was that he was all alone, despite the fact that he was surrounded by people. He was disconnected; he had no control over anything. Even his connection to the Marrden Hounds, scattered through the wilds of Valhalla, was gone. He hadn’t been like this for decades, since his initiation into the Marro army and his first command.
He know allowed his vision to focus. Ne-Gok-Sa was on his knees in a large room. A slight pressure at his back told him he was being held at gunpoint. Standing in front of him were Utgar, Taelord, Runa, as well as the War-witch. Kee-Mo-Shi.
A groan to his left made him turn his head. The gun at his back pressed closer into him. Laying on the ground with his own Marro Elite attending was Su-Bak-Na, the elderly Marro looking almost lifeless. Ne-Gok-Sa flicked his gaze to the other side, to see Me-Burq-Sa still unconscious on the floor.
Utgar stepped forward. Ne-Gok-Sa narrowed his eyes. The large black Kyrie looked down at the Marro Warlord, then spoke. “You have disobeyed my commands. You deliberately led your army against mine. You killed two of my Minions, and then countless soldiers during the battle. As well, you caused many of my Marro soldiers to be killed, although you multiplied their numbers to adequately make up for that.”
He paused. “My former ruling was to send you back to Marro. But that doesn’t seem very fair. So here is what I will do.” Utgar raised his hand, and Kee-Mo-Shi came forward. “You will serve in my army, but you will serve in a way I know you will never disobey my orders again.”
Kee-Mo-Shi came around Ne-Gok-Sa, so that he couldn’t see her anymore. And then he felt a haze come over his mind. As he tried to fight through it, Ne-Gok-Sa realized what was happening. She was trying to Mind Shackle him!
He fought back, but in the end everyone watching saw him collapse, then rise to his feet. Kee-Mo-Shi gave a string of commands, each of which Ne-Gok-Sa obeyed to the letter. He was shackled.
Only Me-Burq-Sa saw the glint in his Warlord’s eye when he turned around, but wasn’t sure what it meant.
Carr sat on the mountainside, watching Ullar and Jandar work on fortifying their position before winter came. Einar and his army had disappeared into the portal, but from other Vydar spies Carr knew he was in his castle over in Anund.
Utgar was preparing his armies for an assault up through Crumland. After the Marros had been reabsorbed into his army, Utgar had brought his army south to the warmer lands to fight during the winter. Especially down in southern Crumland and Braunglayde, the weather never really got that cold.
Carr leaned against the stone at his back. He found himself speculating when and with who Vydar would eventually team up. There was Jandar and Ullar, who seemed to have a slight upper-hand, especially with Utgar and the dissension in his ranks.
But Utgar had so many troops, and he summoned more every summon-gap. And Einar had more then doubled his army over the last two years. So it would take a long time until they were desperate enough to need Vydar’s help.
It would probably be many years before Vydar actually joined the war. Carr pictured himself as an old man, with gray, well, eyebrows. He would use the Sword of Reckoning as a walking staff. He chuckled softly at that. But that point in his life was a long ways off. So he leaned back and watched ranks of soldiers file past his perch, just playing pieces in this Valkyrie chess game.
Chapter 1
Jason Carr crouched on a ledge, watching the sun set. Beneath him, in the valley below, a battle raged. But then that was the norm, here on Valhalla.
On one side were the Orcs, Marros and Humans of the Utgar/Einar alliance. On the other, Elves, Humans, and various Creatures fought for Jandar and Ullar. Atop a rocky outcropping near the mountainside a cadre of Earth Soldiers attempted to oust a position of Orc Warriors. Deathwalkers advanced, firing missiles and bullets into their foes. Elvin archers unleashed volley after volley of arrows into Greek warriors. Samurai parried the blows of medieval knights, while beside them vipers tore into Anubian wolves.
And above it all, Carr watched. Beside him, Dund lay stretched out, watching with half-closed eyes. They had been in this position before, watching hundreds of battles on dozens of battlefields. That was their job. To observe, memorize the tactics of the Valkyrie’s various Generals. When the time was right, Vydar would give the command. And they would fight. For whose side, he didn’t know. And really, he didn’t care.
Not that him and Dund didn’t get to fight. From time to time they slipped into a battle, never turning the tide, but not letting one side come out unscathed. Vydar wanted whoever asked for his help to be desperate, needing of him. But on the other hand, when he did fight, the opponent couldn’t be too strong, too undefeatable.
A roar sounded from below. Mimring, one of the dragons, had entered the fray. He unleashed a swath of flame, pushing back Jandar’s wedge. The mixed line of gun-toting soldiers and Vikings had been close to breaking through the Orc line. Mimring, who Carr knew had been waiting in a nearby cave, had arrived at just the right time. And Jason knew the exact reason for that.
On a hillside behind the battle, a small pavilion was set up. A couple of Einar and Utgar’s generals waited there. Su-Bak-Na towered behind the tent. Valguard, whose deadly Dreadguls had yet to be summoned by Einar. Grimnak, Tornak, and Khosumet would also be inside, the former two’s mounts waiting impatiently outside. But the mastermind of it all, second only to Taelord among Utgar’s generals, was standing in the opening, watching the battle. Much like Carr was, although this being held the fate of the battle in his palm. Or, more like it, fist. Ne-Gok-Sa.
Carr, and Vydar, both knew that without the Marro Warlord, Utgar would have lost long ago. Back when only Jandar and Utgar had entered the fray, and the other three had been on the outside watching. Utgar, despite superior numbers, lacked discipline. The Orcs, Marros, and other dark creatures swarmed instead of marching. They raced into battle after battle, confident of their success. And every time, intelligence and strategy drove them back. Ullar, confident of Jandar’s imminent success, joined with Jandar and were on the verge of victory.
Enter Ne-Gok-Sa. Following Korvack’s death in a rout, which also decimated almost all of the remaining Orc army, he was summoned to take command. Gathering the broken force, he made a stand at the Ford of Golton, in Crumland. Carr, who then had been virtually alone in his watching, remembered the battle with a sort of fond nostalgia.
The remaining Orcs had broken rank almost immediately. They charged the oncoming Jandar soldiers(for Ullar had yet to summon many soldiers, and had only Syvarris traveling with the main army as a representative), and were slaughtered. Grimnak alone, astride his terrible beast, had remained.
Ne-Gok-Sa had placed his ranged soldiers, a few Soulborgs, across the river. They fired across, battering the oncoming soldiers. The 9000, the only large model there, and this still a prototype, had discharged a round into the ground at the front of the army. They diverted around it, now walking alongside the river.
That was when Ne-Gok-Sa struck. He led Grimnak and a band of Marros around the curve in the river, baiting the opposing army. When they took the bait, Ne-Gok-Sa struck.
Rising out of the water, dozens of Marro soldiers had fired into the flank of the Jandar army. The human soldier, Drake Alexander, turned his soldiers towards them. They launched grenades into the river, blowing Marros into pieces. Carr almost laughed remembering the look on Alexander’s face when the pieces re-grew into more Marro soldiers.
Meanwhile, Ne-Gok-Sa had advanced, pinning the Jandar army. By now, there was over three hundred Marro warriors filling the stream, now climbing the bank. Ne-Gok-Sa gave the signal, and the 9000 began firing explosives into the army.
Now that the reborn Marro were engaged with Drake’s soldiers, Jandar had no ranged. Thorgrim gave the word, and the retreated. Ne-Gok-Sa followed, keeping to the water. Three weeks later, he stopped, having regained almost all of Crumland and Lindesfarme. Within another month, more Orcs were summoned, along with a Kyrie warrior, Taelord, who took control of the army. But he wasn’t stupid. In battle, Ne-Gok-Sa still called the shots, as they said back on Earth. Then Einar joined, bringing with them Roman soldiers and Samurai. And the battle was just beginning.
Five years later, Ne-Gok-Sa stood watching the battle. Carr was sure that if he was close enough to see, Ne-Gok-Sa would be wearing a cold smile. The ninjas had appeared at the rear of Ullar’s column, and were cutting into the soldiers there. Marcus, the great Roman general of the IX Legion, had broken through the Vikings line. And now Grimnak and Tornak rode down into the battle, following Ornak through into the fray. Within minutes, the horns sounded. Jandar and Ullar’s troops began the retreat.
Carr, who had hidden outside the now General Drake Alexander’s tent the night before, knew what was coming. Having overheard exactly what was planned in case of a needed retreat, he waited in anticipation of the coming action.
Three quarters of the army were now through the mouth of the valley. A streaming mass of Orcs, Werewolves, and various Utgar beasts streamed after. Then it happened.
With a shriek, a huge white form rose from the snowy mountain top high above. The great dragon Nilfheim hurtled down, pouring icy flame into the army. A movement from the rocks, and Jotun rose above the now panicking soldiers. His sword came down, cleaving through a half-dozen Orcs before reaching the ground. The army, which only moments before had been triumphant and certain in not only a victory, but a rout, now raced the other way. Past the bodies lying on the field. Past the ordered lines of Greeks and Romans marching in an orderly retreat. Past the Marro warriors surrounding the tented hill, laying covering fire towards the now returning Jandar soldiers. Past Ne-Gok-Sa’s motionless form. Even from this distance, Carr’s Valhalla gifted eyes could see the cold, silent anger on his face.
Carr smiled slightly, then got to his feet. Dund following, he began the trek around the mountain to one of Vydar’s hidden outposts. Another battle done. Another report due. Carr sighed. For not being in this war, he sure did a lot of work because of it.
Chapter 2
Ne-Gok-Sa strode through the camp, one target in his mind; Utgar’s command tent. It rose up in the center of the encampment, a horrible black and red mountain of canvas, jagged and hooked poles holding it upright. Compared to the mundane grey tents around it, it was glorious.
The sort of tent Ne-Gok-Sa should have. If anyone would let him command. A snarl raised itself to his lips, but he forced it down. If he lost his cool, the Marros under his control would start acting up. A slight disadvantage to Mind Shackling, but one he didn’t mind. Hiding his emotions was a skill that he had now mastered, a skill that often kept his counterparts off guard. Not that any of them could read a Marro as it was.
He continued his stride through the sea of tents. Einar’s human warriors were spread in an arc facing the valley where Jandar and Ullar celebrated their victory. Cheers and singing rose from the darkness. To their credit(and it seemed the credit always went to Einar’s more disciplined soldiers) they seemed totally nonplussed. As if they knew they weren’t to blame for this loss, only the most recent of many since Taelord took over.
Ne-Gok-Sa nodded stoically to a Samurai, one of the Izumi who had been with the army since Einar had joined. They, unlike Utgar’s soldiers, had always conducted themselves with discipline, self-control, and skill in battle. The Orc filth and everything else that had been added since had only hindered the army’s ability to fight, not helped it.
Past the humans were the Orcs, guarding the area in front of Utgar’s command tent. They sat around with bottles of putrid liquid, drinking into the pits of despair. Which, with Orcs, generally led to angry fights, again reducing their numbers. Not that it much mattered with this bunch.
Then he was at the tent. Striding past the Kyrie guards, he entered through the gaping opening, looking like the entrance to fiery death. And maybe it was.
On either side, stoic red Kyrie stood at attention, their red wings open wide, overlapping the guard to the side. Four on either side. Added to the pair outside the tent flap and the two at attention at the far end, a dozen Kyrie attended their Master. Ne-Gok-Sa wondered which one it really was.
A long rectangular table sat in the middle of the tent. Chairs surrounded the table, but none of them were being used. All of the present generals and warlords were standing. Ne-Gok-Sa allowed his stare to travel over each one of them in turn.
Closest to him was the longest serving of Utgar’s commanders, Grimnak. He had been there from the beginning, summoned even before Ne-Gok-Sa. The Orc Champion served as General of the Orc armies back on Grut. Utgar had snatched him seconds before he died of old age. A couple of sips from a Wellspring, and he was ready to serve again. Untypical of an Orc, Grimnak followed orders well, and had never resented(or voiced resentment, rather) that he wasn’t higher up. Ne-Gok-Sa didn’t like him(he didn’t like anyone but his hounds) but he thought him a competent officer.
Behind the venerable Orc, who was holding himself upright by his battleaxe, stood the two Orc lieutenants, Tornak and Ornak. The brothers had been summoned almost three years apart here in Valhalla, although almost 20 years had separated their summons on Grut. Ornak, though being the younger born brother, was now 16 years older. Weird how this time stuff played out.
Past them was Khosumet the Dark Lord, as he had been called on his home world. Whatever Dark Lord meant. All Ne-Gok-Sa knew was that he was a hot-tempered beast who couldn’t control his own troops. The werewolf was fingering his scythe now, as if contemplating trying to take command of the army.
Opposite the Utgar commanders were Einar’s representatives. The Valkyrie himself was gone, working on the next round of summons. Standing at attention, all three of them, were Marcus Decimus Gallus, Roman General; Parmenio, Greek Warlord; and Valguard, proud leader of the Dreadguls. Those were men that Ne-Gok-Sa would choose to have as officers. With those men beneath him, he could be victorious. But, due to the pair of dark-winged Kyrie at the far end of the table, it was not to be.
Utgar sat on a black onyx throne, veined with red. A golden goblet rested in his gloved fist, a deep red wine swirling about. The Valkyrie was bedecked in all of his glorious(gaudy and unnecessary, in Ne-Gok-Sa’s opinion) armor. His axe rested upright against the left side of the throne. Taelord rested against the right.
Ne-Gok-Sa suppressed the urge to charge forward and gut the Kyrie. He supposed Utgar would probably stop him before he could make it, but he would like to try. To see his black blood running down Ne-Gok-Sa’s sword would be the ultimate triumph. But if he wished to ever have command of the army, he needed to be patient.
Nodding to his fellow commanders, he took his place between Taelord and the other Utgar officers. That much at least was his due. Ne-Gok-Sa flicked a glance at Taelord, nodded stiffly, then returned his gaze to Utgar as he stood up.
“Now that you are all here, we can talk.” The imposing Valkyrie allowed his gaze to sweep the room. “Why are we camped here, when we should be camped on the other side of the battle. Why do I hear singing from Jandar’s troops, when they should be broken? Why did my army lose today!!”
No one moved.
“Ne-Gok-Sa. What happened?” This was it. If he didn’t snatch this opportunity, he wouldn’t get another chance.
“Stupidity happened. Poor leadership happened. This army that you have handpicked lost control. Ignoring orders, they charged after the fleeing enemy. The commanders standing beside me, who are not under orders to obey my commands, went after them. Encouraged this break down of control. And so when the enemy sprung their trap, they were caught. Repelled. Afraid, they retreated. Einar’s able soldiers and my Marro warriors protected our rear. Without them, you would have no army left.”
Ne-Gok-Sa paused for a moment. A low growl from beside him alerted him to Khosumet’s growing rage. He pushed on. “If you wish to win this war, you need a new command structure. This man beside you wasn’t even present at the battle. I need command. Give me control over this army, and you will win. If not, and you leave it up to this rabble, you will be defeated. You will lose your allies. Your army. And dignity you had left. Make the decision.”
Taelord’s hand slid along the back of the throne, inching towards Utgar’s axe. Ne-Gok-Sa watched it for a moment, then returned his gaze to his general. The Valkyrie stroked his chin thoughtfully, totally nonplussed by Ne-Gok-Sa’s statement.
“By control, you mean mind shackling?” Ne-Gok-Sa bowed his head once. “Of the army. The officers, of course, would be totally in control of their minds, but under my command.”
Khosumet snarled, and one of the Orc brothers gnashed his teeth. The humans across the table seemed interested in the proceedings, but didn’t seem to be leaning either way. Utgar was similarly neutral.
Taelord, however, was not. “Sir, you can’t seriously be considering this. This Marro filth just lost a decisive battle. Add that to all the other battles he has lost over the past three years.”
Ne-Gok-Sa leveled his stare at the Valkyrie general. “With all due respect, my lord, who has been in command of your army over those three years?”
Taelord swallowed, and his hand reached the axe. Utgar raised a hand, and Taelord froze. “Peace, Taelord. We are leaving.”
He fixed Ne-Gok-Sa with a piercing gaze. “Let me speak with Einar at the summoning pool. Your suggestions have merit, but I have allies in this war.” Utgar nodded to the Einar Warlords, then stalked out. The Minions followed, and lastly Taelord. He bared his pointed teeth at Ne-Gok-Sa as he passed. “Don’t think you’ll get by easy. Your days of command are over.”
As soon as the tent flap closed, Khosumet whirled. “Fiend!” He lunged, but Ne-Gok-Sa easily side-stepped him. Passing by Grimnak, the old Orc nodded slowly. Not that it mattered, but Ne-Gok-Sa felt somehow comforted; almost as if he wanted the aging warrior’s approval. But that was absurd, so Ne-Gok-Sa continued out. He was looking forward to Utgar’s return.
Chapter 3
The sun crested over the mountain top. Its warm, golden light filled the valley, illuminating the ranks of soldiers marching. The knights armor glinted brightly, betraying their advance to the opposing army. Not that the other army wasn’t already aware.
Katari Omo sharpened his blade against a stone jutting up from the soil. Beside him, Cruzan twirled his twin blades in patterns designed to block enemy blades. The third member of their trio, Taki Aritoro, their leader, stood staring at the upcoming army. The three had spent many a morning like this, standing at attention waiting for battle. In the two years they had been here in Valhalla, the Tagawa, as they were called, had seen almost constant action.
Not that the Tagawa were against that. Back on Earth, the three of them had been renowned for their… killing. They were assassins, trained in the art of killing silently, secretly, or blatantly. Katari preferred the silent approach, but Cruzan was all about in-your-face killing. But then, everyone had a favorite way to kill.
Horns sounded as the marching columns of Jandar soldiers halted. Katari watched as the front lines split, turning to the side. He tensed, prepared for what was coming. The Marro Warlord, Ne-Gok-Sa, had predicted what would happen first.
Behind the first ranks were Ullar archers. Elves bedecked in forest hues bent their bows, aiming high. Katari set his feet. And then the arrows flew. The instant they left the bows, Katari launched himself forward, running between his Samurai brethren. Behind the Einar ranks, Utgar’s soldiers broke to either side. Majority of the arrows would fall harmlessly in the hole they had created. Not Katari could tell. He was focused now on the warm bodies before him.
Within seconds they were there. The Jandar knights barely had time to draw their swords. Not that it helped them any.
Katari’s first foe raised his sword in a basic defensive posture. Katari just leapt over him, slitting the tip of his sword between his foe’s armor as he landed. Then he whirled, blocking a pair of sword thrusts, pushing the second one back into it’s bearer. He turned to the other attacker, and dispatched him within seconds.
With a roar, Cruzan broke through the first line to stand beside him. Together they charged the next line of defense; the Elvin archers. The lead archer fired towards him. Katari ducked under it and rolled, coming up alongside him. A flick of the wrist, and a head fell to the ground.
Another archer fired point blank. Katari pulled up his blade, deflecting the arrow into another Elf’s throat. Then he stabbed, impaling his attacker. Sensing a threat, he pivoted to his right. An elf crumpled from where he had been aiming towards Katari. Master Aritoro wiped his blade clean on the Elf’s cloak, and nodded to Katari. He grinned back, then looked for another foe.
Soon after, a roar sounded. A chill rode the air towards him. To Katari, it didn’t feel natural. His reflexes kicked in just in time. He flipped to one side, landing beside Aritoro. A swath of ice splattered the ground in an arc, enveloping the Einar warriors fighting there. Katari’s gaze flicked upwards, to catch the dragon Nilfheim turning around for another pass.
With a snarl that cascaded off of the rocks, Utgar’s dragon Mimring rose into the air. A blazing fireball was hurled towards Nilfheim. Katari was unable to follow the rest, however, for a wedge consisting of Vikings and Elvin warrior-women charged into the fray.
The battle continued for another three hours, neither side budging. But then the tide turned.
Jotun, the giant, entered the battle. He battered his way through ranks of Orcs, an unstoppable force. One of Einar’s commanders ordered the Tagawa and their Izumi brothers over to assist. They charged in that direction, but never made it.
With a shriek that split Katari’s ears, another dragon entered the battle. His iridescent green scales reflected sunlight. He fell upon Mimring instantly, and the two dragons beat back the smaller red one. As he fell to the ground, they swooped low over the armies.
Nilfheim landed amongst the Marro soldiers, but the green beast alighted directly in front of the Samurai. It snarled, displaying teeth sharper then even Katari’s blade. Glancing to the side, he exchanged glanced with Aritoro and they leapt forward, one to either side. Katari feinted one way, then struck to the other. But the dragon was ready. It blocked with one clawed foot, then flicked its tail. It impacted Katari’s chest, sending him flying in a flash of pain.
Katari’s last memory before everything went dark was the dragon snapping up another Samurai in its jaws, and snapping him in half.
Chapter 4
Carr slipped behind a large stone, at the base of the mountain. Past the rock the battle began to slip apart. The combined might of the two dragons overwhelmed the opposing force. The Orcs had already fled, followed closely by the werewolves and their leader. Grimnak sat atop his mount amongst the Marro warriors, looking, well, grim. Jason grinned at that.
The only thing keeping the battle going were the Einar troops. The Roman Warlord, Marcus Decimus Gallus, held his line of Legionnaires. Parmenio and his Greeks punished the enemy vipers, cutting through the reptilian fighters at a steady rate. But Jandar’s knights were coming in from the other side, where Utgar had been holding the line, and were close to cutting off all retreat for Einar. The Samurai were engaged with Charos, Ullar’s dragon, but even they couldn’t hold their own against the forest King. As he watched, Charos ate up one of them, and the remaining few gathered their wounded and fell back.
But there wouldn’t be anywhere to fall back to. Sir Denrick and his Knights of Weston were coming around, and in less then five minutes would have Einar’s troops surrounded. That was why Carr had descended from his lofty perch. They would pass right past him to finish their maneuver.
With a quiet whine Dund came up beside him. Carr glanced down, and nodded. Dund slid around the rock, and faced the column. He whined again, louder this time, and the front lines of soldiers began to falter. Dund’s crippling gaze, as it were.
Carr leapt over the rock, landing and rolling, then coming up in a bound. Three strides later, he covered 100 feet and stood beside the column. A few well placed sword strokes, and four soldiers lay on the ground. Not dead, but immobile. Carr didn’t kill unless he needed to. Especially not humans.
Carr slid between soldiers, toppling more and more knights. The entire column had halted by now. Dund loped out of hiding and started snapping at the forward knights. Jandar’s soldiers began to fall back, although the middle was now trying to fight whatever foe was in their midst. The result was their well-formed column degenerating into a frantic bunch of frightened warriors, uncertain of what their foe was. Dund now slipped back into hiding; he was not a master of ghost-walking such as Carr was.
Jason slid around the opposite side of the haphazard frenzy of knights, now firing shots over their heads. When panic would have began, Denrick wrested control back into his hands. At his commands, they now halted, hunkering down in a circle with shields raised. The wounded were quickly gathered in the center.
Satisfied with his work, Carr retreated to the mountains. Gaining a higher vantage point, he observed the rest of the battle.
The Samurai now were able to retreat, and reached the Marro held hill. They skirted it and continued on, after what looked like receiving orders from Ne-Gok-Sa. They would be commands on what point to stop and defend; where Ne-Gok-Sa would set up the next camp once the rest of his soldiers were away from the battle.
A horn sounded now, low and mournful, reverberating over the battlefield. Although it didn’t happen immediately, within minutes Einar’s forces had formed up and began a drive out of the battle. With the Marros providing cover fire, much like the battle three days ago, Einar’s forces began an orderly retreat.
Carr watched until Jandar’s forces had halted at the hill where the Utgar/Einar commanders had watched from, then began the trek over the mountain to the other side. Vydar needed to know what was going on, as usual. And Dund hadn’t yet learned to talk…
Chapter 5
Ne-Gok-Sa stood at attention as he watched the small swarm of black shapes fly closer. Utgar and his Minions. With any luck, Taelord would not be among them. Around him, the other Utgar commanders stood at attention.
It had been two weeks since their most recent battle. They had fallen back three times since then, but were now holding steady at the Pass of Rohjek, which led through the mountains into the Upper reaches of Bleakewood. If Ne-Gok-Sa and this army couldn’t hold here, then they would have little chance of defending any of northern Valhalla.
Utgar landed before them, the Minions alighting behind him. No Taelord. If Ne-Gok-Sa was prone to smiling, he would have, but he hadn’t smiled in… never. Marros never smiled; just a way of life. One of Einar’s soldiers had once suggested that was because there were no Marro women. Ne-Gok-Sa wasn’t sure what that meant.
Utgar waved them inside. He sat down on his throne; the Minions lined up. Everyone else sat at the table. After a short meal, Utgar stood.
“The summoning was successful. In fact, Einar himself is arriving with the new recruits.” The air on one side of the tent shimmered; the opening of a portal. A large, muscled Kyrie stepped through.
Einar was the most human looking of the Valkyrie. In fact, nothing about him was un-human other then his wings. But the person coming out behind him was decidedly un-human. Taelord.
Following them were a group of summonings. A Samurai commander and archers; Empress Kiova, as she was introduced, for Einar. A Kyrie for Utgar, along with a collection of ghost-like Shades. A collection of Zombies, along with a group of Orcs from Grut. These all filed out, except for the Empress and the Utgar Kyrie, Runa. Then one final person came through the portal, stopping just as the portal dissipated into nothing. A Marro, but one unlike Ne-Gok-Sa had ever seen. Like one he had only ever been told about in Marro history, which was recited rather then written down.
A Marro Shaman. Standing before him was a Marro Shaman. Commonly known as a War-witch, they were said to have been masters of the mind, having invented the Mind Shackling technique. Before the words were even out of his mouth, Ne-Gok-Sa knew what Utgar would say.
“I have thought over your offer and decided that you were right, Ne-Gok-Sa. This army will function better in the control of a Marro. But not you. No; not you. This is Kee-Mo-Shi. She will take command of the armies. You are relieved of command. I will send you back to Marro.”
Taelord began to laugh. Grimnak stood up. “Sir, Ne-Gok-Sa has proven himself worthy. He’s the best-” “Silence!” Utgar quivered with rage. “I have spoken!” The Greek, Parmenio, spoke something quietly to Einar. The Valkyrie in turn walked over to Utgar, and began speaking to him.
Ne-Gok-Sa realized now was the time to leave. He backed out of the tent, turned, and began running. As he went, he called his Marros to him. They ceased their rest actions and marched towards the Pass, where Ne-Gok-Sa was headed. If he could reach the castle…
With a roar, Taelord flew out of the tent and hurtled towards Ne-Gok-Sa. The Marro calmly pivoted and blocked with his sword, the momentum knocking the red Kyrie smashing to the ground. He leapt to his feet, but was smoothly knocked back down by the dragon that landed atop him.
Ne-Gok-Sa leapt smoothly up onto the dragon, behind Su-Bak-Na. They took off. Ne-Gok-Sa knew for a fact that Mimring was still unable to fly after his battle with the two dragons. That left only Taelord and the Minions to pursue them by air, and Taelord was currently unconscious in the dirt.
Below, Me-Burq-Sa led a force of Marros out from the main force. Ne-Gok-Sa noticed Utgar now standing outside of the tent, shouting orders. The Minions rose into the air, turning towards Ne-Gok-Sa. He propelled the dragon faster away, but the smaller, faster Minions were soon to catch up.
A gunshot rang out from below, and the lead Minion plummeted. Another gunshot, and a second one fell from the sky. The remaining ones pulled off, searching for this new threat. Ne-Gok-Sa, looking down, saw a single humanoid figure melt into the shadows.
Chapter 6
Katari was unsure what exactly had happened. He knew there had been some sort of fight between Utgar’s ranks. Gunfire, at least, was involved. Being bedridden due to his injury, he had been inside a tent and was unable to see the exact details of what happened. Cruzan came and told him the Marros, including Ne-Gok-Sa, had left. And that something or someone had shot down two Minions. They were dead, straight through the head. And now Utgar was leaving, taking his entire army with him.
Einar was staying here with his army to guard the pass. He had brought with him new reinforcements, including a Samurai general, Kaemon Awa. He came by later and met with the three Tagawa.
“Honor. Discipline. Victory.” Katari and his two brethren returned the gesture. Kaemon gripped hands with Aritoro. “It is great to meet the legendary Tagawa Samurai. I learned of you in school. To have elite assassins at my disposal of your skill; no one will stop us.” After inquiring about Katari’s injury, he left.
“Seems good enough.” Katari laughed. “He thinks highly of us; he must be good.”
Three weeks later, after a rainstorm of monsoon-like proportions, Jandar struck. It seemed Ullar had split off, so it was just one army on one army. Einar was ready.
Katari was placed on rearguard, last defense in case of a rout. He didn’t mind; Tagawa didn’t fight unless they were totally healthy. So he sharpened his sword, and waited.
Jandar struck straight-off, a wedge straight to the center of Einar’s position. Marcus and Parmenio together drove them back. Then the riposte, as the Samurai on one side and the Imperium and Empress Kiova on the other came around in a pincer. After an hour or so, they fell back to their former position. And held there, against three more Jandar assaults, until the sun set and the fighting ended for the day.
This went on for five days, until Katari was deemed fit for battle. The next morning, he awaited Jandar’s assault eagerly; it never came. Instead, the army fell back and just waited, encamped. The fighting was over for a while.
Carr had decided to track Utgar’s army as they chased Ne-Gok-Sa and his Marros. He was quite pleased with his shots a few weeks before, when he had picked off the two Minions. Head shots. Carr had fired on a whim, deciding that if Ne-Gok-Sa got away there would be less initial loss of life, and more long, drawn out fighting that would weary Utgar’s entire army. That kind of fighting was what Vydar liked most.
A trio of female agents, the Nakita Agents, had taken up observations of the Gorge battlefield. And his personal students, the Krav Maga Agents, were tracking the Ullar split off. They kept in touch, if need-be, via remote transmitters. Carr kept the earpiece in at all times, and there was a receiver in his tooth to pick up his voice. Amazing the technology Vydar just threw at them.
He stroked the pistol on his left hip. It was the pistol he had found as a child, orphaned and left to die in an alleyway. It was in a pile of trash; someone had probably ditched it running from the cops or something. Jason had taken it, cleaned it, and used it to survive. It had been only short one shot when he found it, giving him six bullets overall. Jason kept those same six bullets for twelve years. He would shoot alley cats, rodents, and pigeons with it; he always recovered the bullet. One time Jason had been cornered by a pair of thugs; he had fired one shot straight into the air, and they had ran. He caught it neatly as it fell.
Soon after, at about fourteen, he joined a circus. Carr did whatever; sharp shooting, choreographed fighting, even some of the stunts with tigers and wolves. For four years he toured with them, until one day their train crashed. Carr had leapt free, diving down into the river just seconds before it blew. No survivors were ever found.
Carr went back to the city he had grown up in, and soon after began almost a house for homeless teens. He taught them to fight; no rules street fighting. Krav Maga, he named it. Some of his first pupils started a formal orphanage, the Krav Maga Orphanage. Original.
Carr trained the kids, giving them the tools to defend themselves. Many went into the army, their skills invaluable and many times earning them positions as special ops units, SWAT members, Navy SEALS. Carr was proud of them.
Until that night, six years ago now. The fire. Someone set the orphanage on fire. Carr was helping people out when the roof collapsed. And Carr had found himself here in Valhalla. Vydar had walked him through what had happened, how he had been summoned just as he was about to die.
After doing some.. tasks with Vydar, the Valkyrie had performed another summoning… this time pulling Krav Maga Agents from that same moment in time, at the collapse of the orphanage. Giving him an Elite-trained army to start with. Not only were they all excellent fighters, but they were stealthy, which was exactly what Vydar needed.
And still needs, Carr thought wryly. Sometimes he wished he was back on Earth, giving those young kids a purpose in life. Here, he was just serving some alien’s whims. But the simple fact was that if it wasn’t for Vydar, he would be dead, him and many of the Kravs. So he didn’t complain.
Chapter 7
Ne-Gok-Sa stood on the battlement, staring at Utgar’s forces aligning themselves outside. This was his castle, Al-Gon-Tya, Castle of the Falls. It clung to a cliff-face, looking like it was growing from the rock. A series of waterfalls cascaded through the structure, pooling layer by layer until it dropped down into the gorge to continue towards the sea. To an army of Marros who thrived around water, it was paradise. Which was why Ne-Gok-Sa had ordered it built four years ago. As a fortress impenetrable if defended by Marros.
Which was what entirely peopled it right now. He was confident that Utgar would be unable to breach the walls. Marros needed only water to survive, gleaning all the nutrients they needed from the clear liquid. Marros also moved faster, and were stronger, the more water there was in the air.
But the main bonus of this water-filled keep was that Ne-Gok-Sa had an endless supply of soldiers. Marros had the unique ability to clone themselves. Water speeded this process tenfold. In the three days since Ne-Gok-Sa had arrived, his army had almost quadrupled. Instead of two hundred soldiers he now had over 750. The castle was large enough to easily hold two thousand or more, so room was not a problem. Especially with Mind-Shackled Marros, who had no need of recreation or comfortable sleeping quarters. The main problem was that of Su-Bak-Na’s dragon, who did need more then water to sustain himself. But for the time being the venerable Marro took the beast over the mountains to eat, which would work until Utgar set up a siege through the air.
Ne-Gok-Sa could see the Orcs, Wolves, and the monstrous Krug arraying themselves before the lower wall. That wall was almost a hundred feet tall, so there was almost no chance of climbing or scaling it. Utgar’s only possible plan of attack would be to bust through the gate, probably combined with an aerial over-the-wall attack. Ne-Gok-Sa had marksmen lining the second wall, and more down on the first level ready to fire at anyone coming in through the gate. Me-Burq-Sa was up on the third level with the close-range drones, training them and preparing them for battle.
The Marro Warlord fingered the device in his hand, a gruklet. The Marro form of a grenade, it would explode on contact with water. Ne-Gok-Sa had a group of Marros working on catapults that would launch larger versions over the walls, along with leather pouches containing water. On contact with the ground(or something more animated) the pouch would break, the gruklet would explode, and damage would be done.
That was only part of his plan, of course. Ne-Gok-Sa never planned a battle dependent on one tactic. That was poor leadership. Something that fool Taelord would do.
There was one thing Ne-Gok-Sa was worried about. While he had control over every Marro under his command(with the exceptions of Me-Burq-Sa and Su-Bak-Na) Kee-Mo-Shi had the power of Mind-Shackling as well. Would it be possible for the Marro Shaman to wrest away Ne-Gok-Sa’s troops?
He had no way of knowing until the time came. And when it did, he would be ready.
Chapter 8
Carr stood and watched the two sides get into position. From his vantage point on the mountainside, he could see both Utgar’s army outside the castle and Ne-Gok-Sa’s Marros inside. Carr didn’t really care who won, but his bets were on Ne-Gok-Sa. The Warlord was too much of a strategic genius to lose this one, but then, anything could happen. And something that intrigued Carr was the spider-looking Marro that scuttled around with Utgar, Taelord, and Khosumet. The Orc general, Grimnak, just sat his mount, staring at the castle.
Carr wondered what had happened to cause this rift. Probably, Ne-Gok-Sa had complained about the state of the troops he commanded. But surely even Utgar could see that his soldiers were wild and unruly. So why drive out your best leader? And if Utgar did win, and capture Ne-Gok-Sa, did he mean to force the Warlord to swear service and loyalty, or would the Valkyrie kill him?
The battle was only moments, it seemed, from beginning. The Orcs were restless, moving and clanging their spears and swords against shields. The Werewolves howled, their calls echoing off the mountains. The Marro stronghold was eerily silent. Carr saw Utgar rise into the air, his axe held out beside him. He raised the ornate weapon, holding it up, quivering just slightly. The army tensed.
The instant his arm fell, they charged. Utgar stayed airborne, doing something with his axe. Some sort of ritual, Carr thought. But he had only a second to contemplate it, before the Marros struck.
Huge green balls were flung over the battlements, with smaller brown, presumably leather, pouches attached by bits of rope. The orbs crashed into the ground just in front of, and directly into the middle of, the charging forces.
The heavier green spheres struck first, and did nothing but impact. But the very second the pouches hit and burst open, spreading water everywhere, the orbs exploded. The explosions were small, but the eerie green fire spread like wildfire, igniting the soldiers. The werewolves especially were hindered, their fur alighting and roasting them alive.
But even this didn’t stop the charge. The Orcs continued on, along with whatever of the werewolves were untouched. They neared the gate, which from Carr’s viewpoint looked impenetrable, at least to a bunch of foot soldiers.
A current of energy redirected Carr’s eyes, back to the airborne Utgar. He was now glowing with a red light, emanating from the tip of his axe. Rising higher into the air, he pointed it forward. Carr instantly realized what he was going to do. His hunch proved correct when a beam of pure, dark energy funneled out, striking the gate to the Marro castle seconds before the charging Orcs reached it.
And swarmed right through it.
Immediately, the Mind Shackled Marros opened fire, pelting the Orcs with energy beams. Carr watched Me-Burq-Sa charge out, leading a brigade of spear-wielding drones. The Orcs and Marros engaged into a sort of stalemate.
The Minions swirled in the air, circling the aged Marro Su-Bak-Na-Bak-Na and his dragon. There weren’t but 8 Minions, so the dragon was able to fend them off for the moment. If Taelord was up there, the battle would be over. But Carr had noticed just how little Taelord actually fought in battle nowadays. Poor leadership. A trait with Utgar, with the exception of the Marro Warlord currently defending this castle.
Carr watched as Marros with bundles on their backs climbed down onto the top of the front wall. Lining the walls, they dropped the large sacks down into the pile. As they fell, one sack billowed open and Carr saw more of the green orbs. The fighting continued, however, due to the fact that no water had been dropped as of yet.
Due to the fact that Utgar had no range currently set up to repel them, the Marros stayed up on the wall. Marros on the second wall dropped guns to them, passing them out like a robotic assembly-line. In time, each Marro checked its gun, aimed, and took shots down into the fray. That was when the Orc archers formed up outside of the wall and began to fire.
The Marros turned as one and redirected their fire. An intense firefight broke out. The Marros had better aim, but they were outnumbered and were more exposed. Fighting continued like this, both inside the courtyard and outside, for almost another hour. Marro reinforcements climbed down, each new soldier with a sack containing an explosive, and dropped it below. Then they would catch a gun, and take a place on the wall.
Utgar finally sent in the big guns. Krug and Khosumet the Dark lord charged to join the fray. Khosumet stopped at the gate, staring in, while Krug stormed into the fight. That was when the water was diverted.
The waterfall, which dropped off of the side of the second wall into the ravine, was suddenly diverted to run straight off the second wall. Right into the courtyard. As it began to come over, Carr saw Me-Burq-Sa turn and gallop up the stairway, a large group of Drones following. Enough stayed behind to prevent the immediate advance of the Orcs, however. Two seconds later, the first of the water struck the stone floor.
First one, then the second, third, and fourth, then they all went off, a deafening explosion that shook the entire mountainside. The first wall cracked, and leaned over at an unhealthy angle. The Marros atop it had braced themselves, and now unleashed shots down into the courtyard, eliminating any surviving Orcs.
A low moan sounded, and Carr saw Krug drag himself out of the rubble. As the Marros shifted aim, the Orcs let loose a volley, dropping a dozen or more. A Trio of Minions now dropped down, knocking free many of the remaining Marro gunners. The small bunch left standing turned and retreated back to the next level. That was when all of them stopped.
The entire Marro army ceased moving. All of the visible Drones, Warriors, all that Carr could see. Stopped. He immediately turned towards Utgar’s camp. Standing on a small rise was the Spider-Marro. He would be sure to get intel from Vydar as soon as he could. But for now, he sat back to see what would happen next.
Chapter 9
Ne-Gok-Sa staggered back into the wall, almost falling from his high perch. Something - or someone - had a clamp on his mind.
He pushed back against the dark hand. It shifted, and the squadron of Marro Elite surrounding Ne-Gok-Sa moved, taking back their defensive positions. He had some control back.
Ne-Gok-Sa knew who it was. Kee-Mo-Shi. She was trying to wrest his army from him. The Warlord pushed against the hand some more, but it wasn’t budging this time. He turned and stepped down into the pool of water, enriching himself through his pores. And he pushed again. Harder, as if the dark hand was smothering him, preventing him from breathing. And in a way, it was.
The hand moved some more, and he heard shots resume further down in the castle. The dark hand now completely lifted, leaving only a finger of touch. Then it clamped down harder, and Ne-Gok-Sa was flung backwards.
Laying face-up in the pool, he struggled to find a loose point. But Kee-Mo-Shi was too powerful. She beat him back, until blackness now began covering his real vision as well. His last sight was of an Elite pointing its gun at his face.
Katari sat on a rock, taking a turn at watch duty. In front of him lay the lands of Upper Bleakewood, Einar/Utgar controlled lands. Utgar should return any day now, his commanders told them, and then they would bust through Jandar’s lines on the opposite side. But for now, they waited.
He entertained himself by imagining what it would be like for the next battle. Katari would battle his way to that dragon, and strike him down. If he hadn’t taken off already. If he had, he would go for the General, Alexander. Katari remembered reading about some great conqueror, Alexander the Great. He smiled wryly. That this man thought to gain strength from that name was amusing, but absurd. Katari would strike him down, and that would be the end of that.
A slight movement caught his eye. His head snapped up, but he couldn’t see anything. The forest began about three hundred feet off, thick trees filled with vines and bushy shrubs. There was no chance an army could travel through the forest, except on the main road, and Katari could plainly see no one was traveling on that.
A slight almost-noise reached his ear, the kind of sound that probably didn’t exist. A trick of the mind. He was letting himself get scared. Even if an army was there, no one would attack during the day. That was why Einar only posted a single guard on this side during the day. He then doubled the guard at night, when an attack was more likely to attack. Kept the troops well rested.
A glint of light off of something shiny set Katari’s sense totally aware. Something was definitely out there. He opened his mouth to shout, at the same time reaching for his sword. That was when the arrow came whizzing out of the trees.
“We’re under attack!” Came out of his mouth as his sword came out, knocking the arrow out of the air. Katari leapt to his feet, and he heard movement in the camp behind him. But what unnerved him was the shout that rang out from the other side of the Pass. “They come!”
A two-pronged attack. Somehow, Ullar must have gotten around into Bleakewood, and were now trapping Einar and his troops into a pincer. Katari was ready though: let them come!
A volley of arrows now came out of the forest, and Katari back-flipped behind the rock. There was a roar, and the green dragon rose from the trees. A wedge of the female Elf warriors came out, charging forward under the cover of the archers.
Aritoro came up beside him. “We’re to hold them off until Einar can get the portal open. Then we’re falling back to Einar’s castle. No heroics.” They exchanged grins. “Well, not too many.”
Then Cruzan was there, and they leapt up as one, catching the advancing Elves off-guard. Katari skewered the first soldier, as Aritoro mirrored his movements and Cruzan just slashed out and ran forward.
Three hours later, Katari suspected he had more kills that day then hairs on his head. Which wasn’t hard, since his head was shaved almost bald; only a small braid dangled down behind his ear.
Aritoro had a deep gash on his sword arm, so he was fighting with his off-hand. Cruzan was covered in blood, probably as much his as his foes. And still they came. Vipers, Elves, Monks. An unending wave.
The other squads of Samurai held the line to either side; the stoic Izumi; the frenzied Kozuke; the Tagawa archers, students of the same teachings as Katari and his brethren; and their new leader, Kaemon Awa, fighting alongside Hatamoto Taro.
And the line was holding. But it couldn’t for much longer. Katari knew that Einar either need to get that portal open, or they would collapse. Einar, in the sense of his army, would be destroyed.
Katari blocked another sword thrust from a she-elf and bounced it to the side, beheading an overly eager Viper. Katari brought the butt of his sword up and knocked the elf to the ground. Then he turned to the right, hearing movement. Another Elf. He blocked, riposted, struck. It was like an automatic movement now. Sweat half-blinded him, fatigue slowed his muscles. But the training that had been drilled into him for thirty years before he was allowed to fight drove him on, kept him alive. Held the line.
Then the sound. The blessed sound of Einar’s trumpets, calling the retreat. Einar had opened the portal. Just by walking through it, they would be instantly transported to Einar’s castle. The sheer amount of power needed to open a portal, however, probably drained Einar to the point of death. But Katari knew it wasn’t out of any love for his troops; Einar was a winner. And he knew that without an army, he wouldn’t win.
That’s why Einar’s troops respected him so much. He knew what it took to win, and he drove his soldiers to that point. Victory was something within their reach during almost every battle. The entire army, disciplined soldiers all, fought for their leader. And now their leader was repaying that loyalty by saving as many of them as he could.
With a quick glance to either side, Katari back-flipped, landing on his hands and kept going until he was out of the fray. Landing on his feet, he began backing up. The other Samurai broke off and began charging for the tents. Ullar’s army charged after, and was met with a volley of arrows from Roman archers. As the Tagawa archers passed the Romans, they nodded. A hundred feet further, right at the outer tents, they turned, knelt, aimed, and fired. This allowed the Romans to stand and fall back.
Katari reached the command tent in the midst of a flurry of activity. Every Einar soldier was marching into the tent; even in this chaos, they kept to their ranks. The Samurai lined up and waited their turn. Less then a minute later, the Greeks were through. Katari came through the tent. There, against the far wall, a blue-white portal swirled, looking like stars shining up from the water. Katari plunged through.
Chapter 10
Ne-Gok-Sa opened his eyes. The first thing he noticed was that he was all alone, despite the fact that he was surrounded by people. He was disconnected; he had no control over anything. Even his connection to the Marrden Hounds, scattered through the wilds of Valhalla, was gone. He hadn’t been like this for decades, since his initiation into the Marro army and his first command.
He know allowed his vision to focus. Ne-Gok-Sa was on his knees in a large room. A slight pressure at his back told him he was being held at gunpoint. Standing in front of him were Utgar, Taelord, Runa, as well as the War-witch. Kee-Mo-Shi.
A groan to his left made him turn his head. The gun at his back pressed closer into him. Laying on the ground with his own Marro Elite attending was Su-Bak-Na, the elderly Marro looking almost lifeless. Ne-Gok-Sa flicked his gaze to the other side, to see Me-Burq-Sa still unconscious on the floor.
Utgar stepped forward. Ne-Gok-Sa narrowed his eyes. The large black Kyrie looked down at the Marro Warlord, then spoke. “You have disobeyed my commands. You deliberately led your army against mine. You killed two of my Minions, and then countless soldiers during the battle. As well, you caused many of my Marro soldiers to be killed, although you multiplied their numbers to adequately make up for that.”
He paused. “My former ruling was to send you back to Marro. But that doesn’t seem very fair. So here is what I will do.” Utgar raised his hand, and Kee-Mo-Shi came forward. “You will serve in my army, but you will serve in a way I know you will never disobey my orders again.”
Kee-Mo-Shi came around Ne-Gok-Sa, so that he couldn’t see her anymore. And then he felt a haze come over his mind. As he tried to fight through it, Ne-Gok-Sa realized what was happening. She was trying to Mind Shackle him!
He fought back, but in the end everyone watching saw him collapse, then rise to his feet. Kee-Mo-Shi gave a string of commands, each of which Ne-Gok-Sa obeyed to the letter. He was shackled.
Only Me-Burq-Sa saw the glint in his Warlord’s eye when he turned around, but wasn’t sure what it meant.
Carr sat on the mountainside, watching Ullar and Jandar work on fortifying their position before winter came. Einar and his army had disappeared into the portal, but from other Vydar spies Carr knew he was in his castle over in Anund.
Utgar was preparing his armies for an assault up through Crumland. After the Marros had been reabsorbed into his army, Utgar had brought his army south to the warmer lands to fight during the winter. Especially down in southern Crumland and Braunglayde, the weather never really got that cold.
Carr leaned against the stone at his back. He found himself speculating when and with who Vydar would eventually team up. There was Jandar and Ullar, who seemed to have a slight upper-hand, especially with Utgar and the dissension in his ranks.
But Utgar had so many troops, and he summoned more every summon-gap. And Einar had more then doubled his army over the last two years. So it would take a long time until they were desperate enough to need Vydar’s help.
It would probably be many years before Vydar actually joined the war. Carr pictured himself as an old man, with gray, well, eyebrows. He would use the Sword of Reckoning as a walking staff. He chuckled softly at that. But that point in his life was a long ways off. So he leaned back and watched ranks of soldiers file past his perch, just playing pieces in this Valkyrie chess game.