NOW COMPLETED: The Last Battles of the Valkyrie

[The Grim Reaper's Friend]

He he. You don't see it yet. Btw, Valkrill is WAY kaput. He's not dead, he's non existent. Oh, and the marro can't interfere, because they are ashes about now. Every last one of them... at least almost every one of them....

Spoiler Alert!

To see 'it', you have to go back to the Quest. There is one chapter in there, somewhere, where it becomes obvious what will eventually happen. There is also one chapter in here, coming up, which connects to the next book or two, though you can't tell just from this fic.

[The Grim Reaper's Friend]

Right then. Next chapter. And you thought Utgar had it in the bag before...

Spoiler Alert!

Chapter Two: Army of the Trees
“Sonlen, move your men to behind the left of the backup range force. Chardris is on the right. Move in for support when you receive the signal.”
Atlaga was next in line, and stopped in front of Ullar’s table. The Valkyrie looked up. “Atlaga,” he said, “Take command of the backup range force. Position your men between Sonlen and Chardris. Saylind will be in front of you.”
Atlaga bowed, and then departed the tent. He made straight for the pass, where all of Ullar’s army was assembling.
After a few minutes in which confusion reigned among the troops, Atlaga stood, at the head of a large body of men and elves. They were situated at the very back of Ullar’s army, right where the pass ended and widened into the flat plain. The ground rose in rippling waves of golden grass, offering Atlaga an excellent view of the battlefield before him. Ullar’s army stretched out in a thick line, ending half way into the pass. Large squads of flankers covered both hillsides as well, ready to cause havoc among the enemy troops in the pass or to come up behind them. Beyond Ullar’s army was the black shape of Utgar’s forces, slowly twisting their way up towards the pass.
Atlaga surveyed the scene. Behind him were two small backup forces, consisting of elvish mages and Feylundian griffins, along with a good number of human healers. They would come in and support the troops if Utgar’s army got as far as Atlaga’s force. In front of the healers was Atlaga, and in front of him were Saylind’s troops, consisting wholly of elvish swordsmen. A large number of the famed Warriors of Ashra were present as well. Atlaga caught a glint of steel as the rising sun glanced off of Saylind’s spear.
A short distance away from Saylind was a small force of Ullar’s newest addition, war giants, from Feylund. These giants came from far in the future on Feylund, when giants had begun to be trained in combat and recruited in war, primarily for use as battering rams. The giants wore thick armor, complete with helmets and spiked bracers, and each one carried a massive sword, reinforced with magic.
Beyond the giants was the spearhead of Ullar’s army: two forces consisting of, of all creatures, human monks from Earth’s past, and, in front of them, nearly two hundred vipers. The vipers were not the toughest of warriors, but they were small and fast, and it was Ullar’s strategy that they would go past the front of Utgar’s army and wreck havoc in the middle. The monks, despite their size, were more powerful than one would guess: a group of them could easily bring down one of Ullar’s war giants if they wanted to.
Hidden in the dense bushes and trees that covered the mountains on either side of the pass were Ullar’s flankers. Two groups were behind the mountain, on either side of Atlaga’s troops, ready to provide extra backup should the need arise. These consisted of a hundred dragons each, each one fitted with armor and protected by magical wards. Separated from the army and on its right was a small force of elven archers. Ullar had discovered an ancient path going along the mountainside, and these elves were guarding the exit, should any of Utgar’s own flankers come down it. On the left of the army was a small group of lizard folk, the Greenscale Warriors. It was their job to carry messages from Ullar to the rest of his army. They were fast, and they were small. Therefore, they were ideally suited to their work. On the left cliff face, Ullar had positioned two flanking forces. One was a contingent of elvish archers. They would skirt the pass, remaining hidden but remaining low down on the mountainside. The other force was composed of more dragons. They would go around the pass, keeping to an outer, longer route.
On the left side, there was another similar force of dragons. However, the cliff here was flatter, so instead of elves, Ullar had placed a group of vipers behind the dragons, hoping that they would be able to distract Utgar’s flankers and allow the dragons to get to them.
Adding all together, Ullar’s army had more than five thousand units in it, most of which were dragons, giants, or other equally large creatures.
As he surveyed Ullar’s army, laid out impressively before him, Atlaga felt sure that Utgar would finally once and for all time be defeated. At last, the old Valkyrie had picked a fight he could not win.
A low, deep horn suddenly echoed throughout the pass, reverberating off of the cliff walls and sending a chill of dread down Atlaga’s spine. With deliberate slowness, Utgar’s massive army began to wind its way into the Olorin Pass. Atlaga began to count, as best he could at this distance, as the enemy forces began to enter the pass. One thousand, two thousand, three thousand, four thousand, five thousand… Atlaga smiled to himself. Most of what he had seen consisted of trolls, orcs, and small soulborgs. They would all be wiped out easily. However, he began to have his doubts as the army kept filing into the pass. Six thousand, seven thousand, Atlaga felt a cold chill of terror wash over him before he shook himself. Nearly eight thousand. ‘Well,’ he thought, ‘that wasn’t so bad, not with orcs and little soulborgs to fight, and kyrie,’ he added as he noticed the winged figures of Utgar’s kyrie minions.
And then he felt his jaw drop. There, towering over the soulborgs, orcs, kyrie, trolls, and even the dragons that he had just noticed, were over a hundred dark figures. About as tall as a giant, their skin was black, as were their massive, bat like wings. In fact, they looked something like giant marro, for their skeletons were clearly visible, their red bones glinting evilly in the rays of the young sun. Smoke came out of their bellies, and fire burned in their eyes. They possessed no weapons that Atlaga could see, but one look at their massive arms convinced him that they didn’t need any: one of them could most likely tear apart every giant in Ullar’s army with ease.
Atlaga had only heard of these fearsome beasts in stories and myths. Even covered with the embellishments of time, they had still struck fear into his heart as a young kyrie, for those were the stories told to children to teach them to fear the gods. Those were the stories of the horrors that awaited those that defied Oden, Thor, and the others. Those were the stories of the flame and smoke of the Ancient Pit that all worlds knew and feared. Those were the stories of the ancient fire demons that had the power to destroy all living things at the end of time. And these creatures that Utgar had somehow summoned looked exactly as they were described in the myths.
Atlaga felt, more than heard, an inner groan of despair go through Ullar’s assembled army. If these were indeed the devils of old, as Atlaga knew they were, Ullar’s forces might as well lay down their arms and defend themselves with blades of grass, for all the good it would do.

After reading that, if you go back and read the first post, you may think you know what is about to happen in the end. That... is not what is going to happen.

[Son of Arathorn]

Originally Posted by The Grim Reaper's Friend

He he. You don't see it yet. Btw, Valkrill is WAY kaput. He's not dead, he's non existent. Oh, and the marro can't interfere, because they are ashes about now. Every last one of them... at least almost every one of them....

Spoiler Alert!

To see 'it', you have to go back to the Quest. There is one chapter in there, somewhere, where it becomes obvious what will eventually happen. There is also one chapter in here, coming up, which connects to the next book or two, though you can't tell just from this fic.

forgot about that. My bad.

[The Grim Reaper's Friend]

Originally Posted by Son of Arathorn

forgot about that. My bad.

Now the suspense builds...
(...Right?)

[William099]

Balrogs? What the flip not fair Grim take it easy! Even though this is a last battle/christian end of the world analogy it shouldn't be this hard on the good guys right?

(On that note I should point out that I am a christian to and really do appreciate your spiritual tie-ins)

Should I send Ironman in? lol he couldn't totally camp on one of those hills and tear right through Utgar's army.

[The Grim Reaper's Friend]

Originally Posted by William099

Balrogs? What the flip not fair Grim take it easy! Even though this is a last battle/christian end of the world analogy it shouldn't be this hard on the good guys right?

(On that note I should point out that I am a christian to and really do appreciate your spiritual tie-ins)

Should I send Ironman in? lol he couldn't totally camp on one of those hills and tear right through Utgar's army.

Um... actually I'm not trying for any kind of analogy here. Utgar just summoned demons. That's pretty much it. In 'Valhalla Myth' they're supposed to come up at the end of time and destroy everything or something, but I just made that bit up.
However... you have just given me a brain wave. Now it is an analogy, or will be shortly. Cool. Thanks. And well met!
~TGRF, who should have another chapter up shortly.

[The Grim Reaper's Friend]

And here is the next chapter!

Spoiler Alert!

Chapter Three: Sinister Intentions
Utgar plummeted toward an outcropping of rock, landing with a powerful grace gathered from the powers of the wellsprings. He stood upright, and surveyed his army. As his eyes moved across his gathered hoards, an evil smile stole its way onto his face. He had defeated Aquilla easily, taking her wellspring and slaughtering her forces. He had taken Einar’s wellspring, albeit with some help from Vydar. But now he was about to confront Ullar, greatest of all the Valkyrie save for himself and Jandar, alone. And he would defeat him. Ullar would fall, his power broken, and Utgar would be the sole ruler of Valhalla, for as long as he lived, which, given what he had learned of the wellsprings, was likely to be forever.
Utgar smiled to himself. Ullar had no chance. Not only had he found a way to summon the ancient fire demons that even the gods feared, but his army far outnumbered Ullar’s.
With a somewhat less graceful landing than Utgar’s, Taelord landed on the outcropping next to Utgar. “The army is in position,” he said, saluting Utgar.
The Valkyrie turned, his muscles rippling in the sunlight. “Good,” he said. “Order the charge. Take no prisoners.”
“Very good, sire,” said Taelord, and he leapt from the rock, beating his wings against the air, and flew towards the line of Utgar’s army.
Utgar turned back to the pass. Ullar had, indeed, amassed quite a large force, and doubtless many among them were spell casters, but Utgar knew he would win. There was no way that Ullar could beat him. And even if he did, by some miracle, survive his onslaught, Utgar’s demons would crush him in an instant.
Utgar smiled once again as he watched his army begin to move forward. First came a group of four hundred cave trolls, specimens borrowed from Valkrill before he had disappeared – an event still shrouded in mystery. A space behind them came two hundred of his best orcs, screeching and bellowing in their blood frenzy. Directly behind them came a small contingent of Deathreavers, one of Utgar’s favorite type of soulborg. It would be there job to distract the enemy while his larger units took them out unawares.
Behind the Deathreavers came two hundred more orcs, these with bows, and behind them came about two hundred soulborg guards, designed and made on Isadora, the prison moon for the remaining Mariedians. Bringing up the end of Utgar’s main force were fifty Demon Dragons.
Utgar had discovered the Demon Dragons on Icaria just prior to his attack on Aquilla’s castle. A small remnant of an ancient fire tribe, the Demon Dragons had discovered the ancient practices of dark magic, and had used them to summon fiends and devils of darkness. The fiends had made them powerful, and had extended their lives far beyond normal; the dragons that Utgar had found were over three thousand years old. However, for all their power, the Demon Dragons were too few to wage war on the other dragons, so they remained hidden. They had willingly joined Utgar though, and were now some of his most prized additions to his army.
Bringing up the rear of Utgar’s main force, though at a discreet distance, were twenty demons. They lumbered forward, the earth shaking with each step they took, the sun, painted red by the smoke coming from them, gleaming off of their red skeletons. If the Valkyrie alliance had had reason to fear Utgar before, there was more than double reason to fear him now. It was said, in the ancient myths of Valhalla, that at the end of all things, the fire demons would rise from the Ancient Pit and destroy all the worlds, and everything in them. It was said that even the gods would fight them long and hard, and would not defeat them easily, if at all.
However, Utgar’s army did not stop there. Several groups of flankers on either side of his main force were occupied in scaling the sides of the mountains, seeking to come in behind Ullar’s army. On the left side, two groups each of kyrie and fire dragons were flying above the mountain side, while below them, forty more fire demons made their way through the scraggly bushes and trees that grew on the mountain.
On the right side, a similar force, consisting of, in all, thirty kyrie, sixty fire dragons, and another forty fire demons, were making their way to Ullar’s rear as well.
Utgar smiled to himself. After today, no one would stand in his way. He would control all of the wellsprings, and would rule Valhalla with an iron fist. None would dare to oppose him, and any who did would be immediately crushed by the gigantic army that he could summon in an instant.
At that moment, a deep bellow sounded from the mouth of the Olorin Pass. Utgar saw Ullar’s forces shift nervously as the echoing sounds of his battle horn reverberated throughout the valley, and into the forest beyond. The battle had begun.

In the few seconds that have elapsed since my last post, the brainwave just got better.
Coming up in the next chapter! The aforesaid 'impromptu revisions'. These squished the contents of ten chapters into one. Yes, it sounds bad, but it was actually a problem with my plot. I had it set up for really short chapters or something. Believe me, it isn't bad... I mean, as far as I can tell, anyway.

[William099]

So I just noticed there was no mention of Protectors of Ullar in Ullars army? Or did I just miss it?

[The Grim Reaper's Friend]

Uh, no, I missed it, actually. I had a feeling something was missing from Ullar's army when I wrote the battle stats up. Oh well, any guys that I missed can be included in the upcoming __________, which you shall soon hear of.
On to the next chapter, this time proofread for a change!

Spoiler Alert!

Chapter Four: Clash of the Armies
With a thunderous roar, Utgar’s four hundred trolls ran, or rather lumbered quickly, toward Ullar’s waiting forces. They covered the ground surprisingly fast for beasts of their size, and were soon among the first of Ullar’s forces. However, if they had been expecting an easy rout, they were sorely disappointed.
The first of Ullar’s forces consisted merely of one hundred sixty Venoc Vipers and Shaolin Monks. As the trolls approached, the vipers ducked out of their way, and sped through their ranks, cutting and slashing at their legs. Meanwhile, the monks, almost as nimble as the vipers, leapt out of the way of the trolls, harassing them with surprisingly strong blows.
Trolls are, after all, not the brightest of beasts, and they stopped to try to rid themselves of the annoying enemies at their feet. This of course forced the horde of four hundred orcs, which had been charging behind them, to stop, and deal with the vipers and monks also. While the first few lines of either army were thus preoccupied, Ullar’s forty war giants of Feylund marched forward, swinging their massive swords menacingly. The sun glinted off of their armor, and shone conveniently in the eyes of the trolls. This, however, caused the trolls to look up, and see the giants before they arrived. In another moment, the giant beasts had launched themselves at each other with all the ferocity of primal combat. The giants, swinging their swords as though they were clubs, hewed off heads, arms, and legs indiscriminately, but the trolls that survived soon began to level the giants with massive blows of their giant fists.
While the trolls and giants were thus occupied, the orcs had been dealing with the vipers and monks, though not with much success. Their numbers had, in fact, been dwindling at an alarming rate until the Deathreavers came in behind them. With a reckless lack of fear, the robotic rats flung themselves into the fray, snapping at vipers, stabbing at monks with their teeth, and clamping their jaws around their adversaries, forcing them to stop and try to pry them off. This tactic, more than anything else, helped the orcs. Once a viper or monk had stopped moving, they would rush up and dispatch it with, depending on the orc, a sword, axe, chain, or giant fist.
Soon the next battalion of orcs, consisting of Arrow Gruts and the crossbow Gruts, came up and began to pour volleys into the falling vipers. The monks were able to dodge most of the arrows, but in doing so, they invariably got crushed by the foot of a troll, or accidentally hewn in two by the sword of a giant.
The trolls, having overwhelming numbers on their side, were finally triumphing over the giants, though with significant loses. Nearly a quarter of their number had been wiped out. However, as the Isadora guards came up behind the second battalion of orcs, the last of the giants fell, and Utgar’s victorious army proceeded to the head of the pass, where Ullar’s elves were gathered.

That was the first half of those crunched chapters. I supposed to spend like a chapter each on the individual encounters or something, but it didn't work out.

[William099]

Originally Posted by The Grim Reaper's Friend

Um... actually I'm not trying for any kind of analogy here. Utgar just summoned demons. That's pretty much it. In 'Valhalla Myth' they're supposed to come up at the end of time and destroy everything or something, but I just made that bit up.
However... you have just given me a brain wave. Now it is an analogy, or will be shortly. Cool. Thanks. And well met!
~TGRF, who should have another chapter up shortly.

Now, before we begin, I should tell you two things. I am a Christian and like to incorporate a Christian theme in my writing every now and then. If you don’t like this, please feel free to read something else.
So, let us begin book two in the trilogy, The Last Battle of Valhalla.

Ah see so that's where I got confused because of the above paragraph and the name of the book I assumed it was going to be an allegory similar to C.S. Lewis' Last Battle book. So thats the lens I have been reading the story from and how i have been interpreting it.

[The Grim Reaper's Friend]

Ah, I see. Well, I don't really have any particular theme for the whole fiction, though I think I was supposed to originally. However, you just gave it a theme a few posts ago.
I will post the next chapter in a bit, I'm about to go on great journeys shortly.

[The Grim Reaper's Friend]

Spoiler Alert!

Chapter Five: Annihilation
Atlaga surveyed the ground before him as the trolls, still a good distance away, began to bear down on him. There was no motion from either side of the pass, which meant that the flankers had probably been discovered. As if to confirm this, a ball of flame suddenly erupted high up on the mountainside, and five elves were flung high into the air, to land with a dull thud on the sharp rocks below.
‘Right,’ Atlaga said to himself. ‘It’s down to us now.’ He looked behind him at the ranks of elves and humans that he commanded. Many had their mouths slightly open at the way the war giants had been mown down, and many more looked to be on the verge of running away, but the hardened veterans, the soldiers who had seen many battles, wore set expressions on their faces. Their mouths were drawn thin, and their knuckles were white as they grasped their weapons, but they showed no sign of fleeing. Instead, an iron resolve seemed to emanate from them. Even as Atlaga watched, the newer soldiers, seeing their friends still standing, ready to face the enemy, stood straighter as well, and grasped their weapons with a firmer grip. Atlaga turned back to the oncoming trolls.
“Prepare to fire!” he shouted to the men behind him. A combination of muttered spells and tautening bow strings met his ears in reply. The trolls were only fifty yards away. “Aim.” Forty yards. Thirty. Twenty. “Fire!”
As the words left Atlaga, four hundred arrows whizzed through the air, bringing down a good number of trolls. In addition, a volley of powerful arcane spells ripped through the oncoming beasts and exploded behind them, causing havoc among the orcs and soulborgs. “Aim. Fire!” Another volley of four hundred arrows, and the trolls were almost eliminated. More spells crashed through the enemy ranks, and Atlaga was pleased to see that the orcs faltered in their charge. However, a moment later, the trolls crashed into Saylind’s force, which was in front of Atlaga’s.
Saylind’s force was composed entirely out of elvish swordsmen, leaving Atlaga with all of the archers and mages, in addition to a few monks. Elves were of course known for their prowess with the bow, but their skill with the blade was made apparent as they felled the near forty remaining trolls before they could do much damage. They then engaged the orcs, and began slaughtering them without mercy. They may have won the day, had it not been for the four hundred Isadora guards that opened up on them without warning, mowing them down with ease. Atlaga’s men caste another volley at the soulborgs, but it was too late: the Deathreavers plunged forward and tore apart what was left of Saylind’s force. When none of her warriors were left standing, Saylind tried to flee to Atlaga’s men, but three Deathreavers snapped their jaws shut around her legs and pulled her back to the ground. There, a massive orc, one of the giant ones that Atlaga had seen earlier, despite all the arrows and spells that hit him, drove Saylind’s own spear through her, pinning her to the ground, and leaving her to bleed her life out on the field of battle.
Enraged, Atlaga grasped his crossbow and fitted a bolt to it. He took aim with deadly accuracy, fired, and was mildly surprised to see the bolt sink deep into the orc’s left eye. A well placed spell then hit the orc in the chest, and he was flung backwards, never to rise again.
However, Atlaga had no time to mourn for Saylind; the soulborgs, Deathreavers and guards alike, had advanced, along with the remaining orcs. However, it was not the metal warriors that caught Atlaga’s eye. His attention was attracted instead to the massive demons approaching behind the soulborgs, their gate deliberately slow, watching to see how the battle would go before they interfered.
Atlaga’s mind was brought back to the soulborgs when a sudden volley sounded so close he thought the soulborgs must be firing at point blank range. He was nearly right. He just had time to throw himself to the ground before the bullets whizzed over him, and still, one managed to lodge itself in his leg. Muttering oaths of eternal pain to the soulborgs in Icarian, a wonderful language for such things, Atlaga raised himself half an inch and fired his crossbow at the first steel warrior he saw. The bolt pierced the soulborg’s head, and it fell, a crumpled heap of metal and guns. Atlaga then leapt upwards into the sky to avoid the next volley of bullets.
Meanwhile, his soldiers had not fared so well. The suddenness of the soulborg attack had caught them unawares, and well over half of them had been slaughtered. The few that had managed to escape death were badly injured.
At that instant, the reserve force of Ullar’s dragons converged on the soulborgs, spreading fire amongst them. The soulborgs fired at the dragons, and hit many of them with uncanny accuracy, but the dragons had the clear advantage of surprise and speed. Soon, nearly all of the soulborgs were wiped out.
Then, just when Atlaga thought that they just might win the day after all, the demons joined in the fray, and instantly turned it into a slaughter. As if at a single word, a huge wave of flame swept towards the remnants of Ullar’s army. It was far too tall to jump over, and stretched the width of the pass, so the only way to escape it was to either fly over it, or try to outrun it. Since there were very few kyrie present, most chose the later means of escape. However, the wave of flame was too fast, and overtook them all, incinerating them in their tracks, and not even leaving ashes behind.
Atlaga, who had flown above the fire just in time, landed back on the scorched ground and fitted a bolt to his crossbow. The demons may have been invincible in the ancient myths, but Atlaga had always wondered how the gods were then supposed to defeat them. Whether or not they could be killed, he saw no harm in trying, and with that in mind, leveled his crossbow and fired. The bolt flew straight and true, and vanished right between the ribs of the nearest demon, entering where the heart should be. Nothing happened. Atlaga began to wish the demons to burn forever in the fires of the Ancient Pit, once again in Icarian, until he remembered that they were the ones that stoked the fires. Therefore, he fitted another bolt to his crossbow and fired again. This time, the bolt entered the demon’s head. It struck the creature’s skull, and stayed there, quivering, until the heat from the demon caused it to burst into flames and burn away. The demon still advanced.
Feeling a soft whoosh of air behind him, Atlaga turned just in time to see Ullar himself go flying towards the demons. He sped straight up to the nearest one, and struck it a mighty blow on the head with his sword. A resounding blast, accompanied by an explosion of green and black, knocked the demon clean off of its feet and sent it hurdling backwards. It skidded along the ground until it rammed into the side of the mountain with such a crash that several rocks fell and broke open upon its head. The demon remained motionless. The other demons stopped their advance and eyed Ullar warily.
It was only then that Atlaga realized what Ullar had done. “Witherwood,” he murmured to himself. Automatically, he fingered his lone bolt of Witherwood, but did not put it in his crossbow. ‘There is only one enemy that shall ever pierce,’ he thought, ‘and that is Utgar.’
Ullar flew up to another of the demons, and, after avoiding its flailing arms for a minute or two, dispatched it similarly. However, as the demon sent another cascade of stones down upon itself, it became clear that Ullar’s time was up.
From both sides of the pass came Utgar’s victorious flankers. They had far outnumbered Ullar’s own flankers, and with the demons, had destroyed them with hardly any casualties to themselves. They now poured into the pass, swarming towards Atlaga and Ullar, and the few warriors left of Ullar’s grand army. Ullar turned to face the new force, which consisted of more demons in addition to dragons and kyrie, and was promptly hit from behind by one of the other demons. He tumbled through the air, careening toward the cliff face until he managed to catch himself and land on the ground.
Meanwhile, Atlaga had engaged a group of five kyrie, and was dueling with them fiercely. He had already dispatched a sixth. The kyries’ blows, however, were beginning to tell on him. He had received a gash to his left arm, and his right leg had been broken by one of the minions’ axes. With a growl of fury, he drove his sword through another of the kyrie, and then gasped as he felt an axe drive dangerously close to his spine. The blade severed several muscles connecting his left wing, and he fell, uncontrollably, towards the ground, the kyrie following. At that moment, a burst of green light exploded in front of Atlaga and, passing around him, threw the kyrie backwards. As Atlaga descended towards the ground, he noticed, as from far away, two streaks of bright light fly past him, heading for two of the closest demons, and then darkness enveloped him.

In the original plot, that was supposed to be the last chapter of that part, but since it was only chapter five, I merged the parts into one.
P.S. Cool! Randomly popped this chapter into this and came up with JRR Tolkein. Score!