Untitled. SoA's Fanfic, On Hiatus 'Til I Have Time to Write.

[Son of Arathorn]

The first installment in what I hope to be a great tale of Valhalla.

Spoiler Alert!

Valhalla, 13527.
Year 9 of the Great War.

Central Nastralund
“Reynolds!” Corporal Bucklin yelled across the green. “I need some help over here!”
Private Reynolds and Sergeant Peters of the 20th Maine Regiment leaped up from the campfire and rushed through the long grass. Nastralund was particularly lush this time of year, and the grass could get to shoulder height. Crashing through the plants, they stumbled into the clearing Bucklin was crouching in. Peters lost his midday rations right then and there. On Earth, the 20th Maine had seen some of the worst action in the American Civil War, and had seen worse under Jandar, but the sight before the three men was disgusting. At Bucklin’s feet was a man, gasping for breath and clutching the Corporal’s pant leg. His face was horribly disfigured, a horrific mask of fresh burns. His clothes were near scorched off, and six arrows were embedded in his chest and arms. His left leg was burned straight down to the bone. One look at him, and Bucklin, with the most field experience, knew he was beyond their help. He picked up his musket, loading it as quick as he could. “Wait!” Reynolds spoke tersely. “He’s saying something.”
Bucklin cut him off. “I am not going to prolong this man’s pain to satisfy your curiosity.”
“But Sir, I-”
BANG. The shot rang through the narrow valley.
The silence afterwards was louder than the shot. Peters broke it. “Defensive positions, now. Get back to the camp and extinguish the fire, pull up-” A whining in the air, an ugly thwack, and a ragged black arrow protruded from the Sergeant’s chest. Two more whines followed, and two more bodies fell.

Northern Bleakwoode
In the dark of Bleakwoode, a contingent of Ullar’s troops rested on the hard path. Not too long, the territory of Utgar’s Shades is close. They must move quick to pass through unscathed. One of the archers scaled a tree, withered and black. Might as well have a lookout in this part of Valhalla. Fiantooth territory covered the entire forest. Below, Amrodel called up. “Anything?” The elves were uneasy in this part of Valhalla, so like and yet unlike home. The scout turned to yell back, and in the corner of his eye, he saw it.
“Run!” The scout was the first to go, if only by a few seconds, as the flaming, tarred rock crashed through the canopy of pine to create a crater below.

Eastern Braunglayde
Imralin crested the hill, allowing the cool wind to inflate the hollows under his wings. The kyrie was up ahead of Aquilla’s forces, much too far, but what did it matter? The landscape beneath his eyes was majestic, to say the least. Laid before him were plains of short, grey-green grass, hills rising and falling from the sea of grass. Bitterly cold wind rippled across it, and the only shelter offered from it was the occasional rock, tall and gruff. Clouds of grey covered the early sun, and in the morning air, moisture hung heavy. It would be worse for the Moon Tribe warriors and dwarves when they came through here. No real cover from the wind, the only real enemy in this barren place.
On that thought, the kyrie turned against the suddenly loud, overpowering wind to report back to the army that the way was clear. The last he saw was the flames on the horizon before the fell claws enveloped his paralyzed body.

Northern Laur
“Why are we here?” Guilty McCreech said for the third time in as many minutes. Colonel Fremantle sighed.
“We are here, you odious man, to scout this area of the Underdark. On direct orders from General Einar, and you would do well to remember that. Now fall into line with the others.” The man jerked his head back, indicating the line of red-clad soldiers behind him.
“This may not have occurred to you limeys, but I don’t take orders from you. We whooped ya’ll in the Revolution, we whooped ya’ll with Jackson. So don’t think y’can-”
Colonel Fremantle whipped around. “Mind your mouth savage, or I’ll make that rope burn a very near reality. McCreech’s eyes widened, pale in the dark. Fremantle was suddenly very smug, until he realized the American wasn’t looking at him
The huge, mottled hand came out of the dark, scarred and grey. It grasped the Colonel before he had time to scream. A sickening sound from the pit below reached the ears of the 10th Regiment of Foot, and they began to load their muskets. McCreech was much faster, whipping out his pistols and firing blindly into the pit. He was quick, managing to get three shots off before a roar and a chain came out of the pit. The metal links wrapped around his neck, pulled, and the darkness became permanent.

Southern Anund
Salah ad-Din Yusuf ibn Ayyub looked over the rise. Good ground. Safe, for the time being. He was conflicted, to say the least, about being summoned by General Vydar. While he was grateful for his life, and those of his men who were brought here with him, he knew that his place was with his people, in the Holy Land. He had already been filled in on why he’d been brought to this world, and the circumstances under which he had been summoned. Apparently, Vydar’s advisors had pestered him so much that he had finally agreed to summoning masses of men to guard the borders, instead of just using few, elite, advanced soldiers. He wasn’t happy about it, and had looked upon Saladin, as Vydar called him, with disdain. Yet the man owed the Valkyrie, and so he would serve him in order to gain the chance to take Jerusalem.
A yell went up from the next hill. The man turned, spurring his horse forward. The steed, the result of eight generations of breeding, made it in less than a minute. His third son was staring across the expanse, the dark ground. Nothing much grew here, the ash-fall from the Volcarren made sure of that. “What is it?”
His son replied tersely. “Enemy cavalry is cresting the ridge, a mile from here.”
Salah ad-Din squinted. His eyes hadn’t seen properly for about four years now. “You are certain? It is the enemy?”
Az-Zahir nodded. “It’s nothing the other Allies have in their ranks. Utgar must have a surprise for us. They’ll be here within ten minutes, maybe less.”
The older man flicked the horses reins. “Assume defensive positions, get the men ready to charge. Let’s meet them going down the hill. You stay with me, we’ll keep watch from the tower.”
“At once.” His son rode to the man on the next hill, and spoke quickly. The man, in turn, shouted down the hill, to the guards at the base. Amazingly disciplined, they went from rest and food to riding against the enemy in a minute. Not that Salah ad-Din saw this. He was already at the lone tower, built of grey stone. Tall enough to view the entire choke-point that was comprised of Bleakwoode, Kinsland, and Anund, it kept watch on the whole of Vydar’s South Border. His son was there within another minute, and the horsemen met their foes in another. Immediately, it was apparent that the enemy was not riding horses. Their mounts tore into the men’s steeds, ripping through with tooth and claw, screaming in high-pitched howls whenever a man managed to get in a kill. The riders were vicious, and from here, Salah ad-Din could see the leather and fur they wore. Every spot of rust on their ravaged blades. Too close.
“Go.” Az-Zahir burst out. “Go! Through the tunnel Father, it’s the only way. Quickly, while time still remains! Come!” Vydar’s engineers had supplied some of the Gladiatrons with spade-like attachments, and after a few years work, a network of iron-plated tunnels stretched to borders and outposts all around Anund. A closely guarded secret, not even the other Generals knew. Now it was the only way to escape this devilry.
“Wait.” Salah ad-Din moved to the high window, and let out a call through the horn. Retreat. “Maybe some will get away.”
His son looked doubtful, but there wasn’t time to worry, they had to move. Getting downstairs was quick, and in a flash, the metal door was opened. Something pummeled the door from the outside. His son pushed Saladin through the opening, then followed himself. The hatch shut behind him, and the light from the cracks in the ruined door gave way to night.

Might be a week before the next installment.

[elvenwizard9]

Interesting... So Utgar is planning a surprise attack with hordes of horrifying enemies, and no one survives long enough to tell the tale?

[TGRF]

Aha! Great writing, SoA! Sounding quite interesting, so far. This out to get good. Not that it's not good already.

[Son of Arathorn]

Originally Posted by elvenwizard9

Interesting... So Utgar is planning a surprise attack with hordes of horrifying enemies, and no one survives long enough to tell the tale?

You'll have to wait and see. I can't really write until next weekend.

[Tornado]

Very cool SoA. I really liked the way you set it up. The separate geographical locations is brilliant. I might have to to steal this format some time. Looking forward to more.

[Son of Arathorn]

I completely forgot that I had today off, so I typed the next installment quick. Forgive the excessive detail and bear with me.

Spoiler Alert!

Majunvest
Majunvest was spoken of in hushed whispers, when it was spoken of at all. And even then, only among the most trusted aides and friends of the Allied Generals. Of course, Utgar himself knew of the great fortress, the last holdout of the Valkyrie, where they could hide in times of great peril. Such a time had almost come in the fourth year of the Great War, before Aquilla and Valkrill had joined the fight. The Marro had pushed through North Lindsfarme, Aunstrom, all of Bleakwoode, and most of Anund. Einar and Vydar had been driven from their territory, Einar as a precaution, Vydar as a necessity. They had fled to the Great Fortress, and were there reinforced by the other Generals. The campaign during the sixth winter of the Great War had complicated matters for both sides drastically, as Jandar brought a massive force South from the Thaelink. Great giants were summoned from Earth’s prehistory, titans of raging snow and frigid ice. Their powers had brought the blizzards as far south as Upper Bleakwoode, and with them came the Dzu-teh. These masses, along with additional reinforcements from relentless viking forces had broken the back of the Marro. Such creatures could not survive in the cold, and many Hives froze and decayed with the thaw that came when Utgar pulled all of his forces together to keep his hold on everything south of Elswin. He had still lost a good deal of his territory, but he held the line well. The giants were brought down, one by one, and the cold retreated. Utgar, Einar, and Vydar were severely weakened, and the other Generals grew ever distrustful of Jandar until he relinquished Laur and Elswin to the other Allies. The entire event had nearly toppled the Valkyrie, and brought Valhalla to an even worse chaos.
Now, Majunvest wasn’t located in Eastern Ostriyick, as it was in the first six years of the Great War. Majunvest was now situated on the third-largest island in the Bitter Sea, off the coasts of Ekstrom and Anund. Of this, Utgar was not aware. He knew that the original Majunvest was abandoned of course. He had raided it himself.
It was in the second Majunvest that the Valkyrie now met, not just for sanctuary, but to discuss the matters of war. It was now more of a fortified city than anything else. In the eighth year of the Great War, Einar and Vydar had found it necessary to find new lodging for their peoples, as their lands were for the most part vulnerable or defiled, and thus Majunvest was given a new purpose in addition to a fortress.
The island it was constructed on was square at the southern half, with the northern corners being oblong and expanding out. A harbor occupied the west side, and the largest armada to occupy any world now dwelt there. The Valkyrie had been building ships since the sixth year, though Utgar did not, having no need for them, for his forces could safely cross the Volcarren into the Ticalla when needed. Of course, as they could not summon ships, the Valkyrie had to build their own, and Einar and Vydar’s people had proven quite ready to the task, under guidance from Ullar’s engineers. Aquilla had sent her own sea craft, little though she had, once she had made her presence known.
On the eastern side of the island was another harbor, though skillfully hidden in dangerous coves and hollowed caves in the high cliffs. If Utgar ever had the urge to take to the water, the Valkyrie could sleep soundly knowing that their most vulnerable flank was hidden from sight by the eroding powers of the sea upon the rocks.
Amidst the fortified and hidden harbors, atop a high hill, nearly a majestic mountain in the middle of the island, stood Majunvest. Constructed of grey-blue stone and designed by the most skillful architects of the Allied Generals, it had surpassed all seen by the soldiers summoned to fight in the Great War. Construction had taken a little more than three years, and was still underway. Taking principles and inspiration primarily from the oration of Earth and Feylund’s warriors, it rose from the plains, and yet splayed over them for nearly a mile. The Gate of Alliance, aptly named, stood between two towers, and combined complex design with impenetrable defense, wood and metal guarding entry to Majunvest. The Outer Wall was tallest of the five walls that guarded the city. The Guarding Wall was shorter, yet stronger than the Outer Wall before it, with four smaller gates set into the stonework. The Inner Wall was stronger still. Most of Majunvest’s inhabitants lived between the great space provided by the Outer and Guarding Wall. Inside of the Inner Wall were the three towers, the shortest, called Lagtoren, in between the taller towers of Vydar and Einar, monuments to their fallen lands, flying banners of their people. Spiraling stairs led up to the pinnacles of all three towers, inside and out. At the top of Lagtoren, the fourth wall, the Wall of the Kyrie, stood sentry around the Tower of the Archkyrie, and it was in this space between the Wall and Tower that the trusted advisors and friends of the Valkyrie lived when they had great fortune to stay in Majunvest. Finally, the fifth wall, Wall of Peoples, stood atop the Tower of Archkyrie, meant to keep out any that might threaten the strength of the Tower of Valkyrie. The most beautiful and strong structure built in any world, the last holdout that any might have in Valhalla. At the pinnacle, one could see the expanse of the city, see the land and the Bitter Sea beyond, and on a good day, the coastal mountains could be spotted. In the chamber atop the Tower of Valkyrie, each general had brought a goblet of water, a stone, and silt from their Wellsprings, to create one anew, shared by each General.
Of course, possessing this place did not mean that the Generals abandoned their outposts on the mainland. Majunvest was a place of peace for their people, and a place to amass their strength for their final assault on Utgar, a distant plan in years to come.

Majunvest, War Chamber
Vydar strode into the War Chamber, just below the shared Wellspring, and sat in his designated place at the war council. Each General had come from their places in Valhalla, each bringing two advisors or soldiers with them. The Valkyrie sat, and saw that he was not the last to arrive. Good. Never arrive first, yet never last, was Vydar’s policy when it came to such meetings. Around the circular table, Einar, Jandar, and Aquilla were present. With them were famous commanders and champions, meant to intimidate and protect. Allies though they were, the Valkyrie still kept rivalries from the early days of the Great War. Behind Einar’s chair stood Kato Katsuro, and Marcus Decimus Gallus, commanders of Einar’s largest forces. Aquilla kept behind her Mogrimm Forgehammer, and in the shadows Brave Arrow kept himself hidden, just enough to bring the occasional double-take. Jandar kept Thormun at his left, with Raelin on his right. Behind Vydar trailed Agent Carr and Salah ad-Din. Jandar noticed the change of guard. Usually Vydar kept Major Q10 close at hand, an imposing presence if there ever was one amongst Soulborgs. And such a strange replacement. Vydar kept few humans in his inner circle, and none from the warlord’s time.
Small talk commenced at the table as they waited for their final ally. They were kept only a minute, as Ullar came through the door accompanied by Atlaga and a newer recruit. An elf, taller than those of Feylund, carrying a bow and long knife at his side. Ignoring pleasantries, Ullar sat.
The War Council commenced.

Next installment coming... when I have time to kill.

[Son of Arathorn]

I do apologize for the length, but I couldn't figure out how to divide this up. Enjoy. Or not, as you prefer.

Spoiler Alert!

Majunvest, War Chamber
Aquilla opened the council with an update on the situation south of the Volcarren. She moved to indicate points on a physical representation of Valhalla set into the table, with carved metal pieces to show positioning of armies. “As far as we know, Utgar’s forces have been pushed back to the wastelands, though he is receiving reinforcements through Kinsland daily. It is only a matter of short time before he attempts an assault, though I believe I can hold him for a few weeks if necessary, provided the reinforcements from Jandar arrive.” She looked to her right, and the Valkyrie nodded.
“I can have a company of Weston and Templars sent by sea within days. The soldiers are already here, and it’s a weeks journey to your harbor. I would of course, prefer to have them go around the south islands and the far out of the way of the Molten Sea...” Jandar raised an eyebrow questioningly.
Aquilla brightened slightly. “Of course. It’s no good sending them if Utgar spots our reinforcements. We can hold him off until they arrive.” She sat back down, Einar rising in her stead.
He moved several pieces on the map, in North Elswin. “I have received reports from my commanders in the Greek army that Parmenio is badly wounded, and without his expertise, I severely doubt we can keep the Fiantooth from moving in. I move that the council give the order to retreat and regroup with the bulk of the Roman forces in Laur. Once they have sufficient numbers, which I will begin summoning today, the IX and XXIII Legions will attack, with the VII Legion keeping hold on Southeast Laur. Agreed?”
Most of the Council concurred, though Ullar objected. “Are you certain they can take back the territory once it is lost?”
Einar and the others looked at him as if he had suggested they clip their wings. “Of course. The Roman army has demonstrated increasing success in the North. Why now do you doubt them?”
Ullar cleared his throat. “I bring to the Council today an issue that has pressed upon my mind for weeks now, and Vydar shares my suspicions.” Vydar nodded, if grudgingly. Vydar did not enjoy agreeing with the Lord of Ekstrom.
Ullar rose quickly from his seat, pointing at Upper Bleakwoode. “A few weeks ago, I had sent a company of elves to reinforce your position in Elswin.” He glanced at Einar. “They had to pass through Upper Bleakwoode, and we have confirmed that they entered the forest. Unfortunately, they didn’t come out.”
Jandar interrupted. “But surely there is a logical explanation for this. That part of Bleakwoode is crawling with Shades and Fiantooth. Exactly how large were these reinforcements?”
Ullar drew a breath, letting it out slowly through his nostrils. “It numbered... almost 150 strong.” Jandar went pale.
“I assume you sent people to investigate this. I mean, a force that size-”
“I know. Scouts reported back that they found the army. Dead, every one of them. They were nearly out of the forest, another days journey and they would have been safe.” Ullar paced, wringing his hands.
Einar spoke tentatively. “Ullar, that is nearly a months worth of summoning. How-”
“I know!” The Valkyrie exploded. “I know what a loss it is, and I know that we can’t afford it in the North! I know that we have to hold the line there! I know-
“Ullar!” Vydar barked from his seat. The Valkyrie were silent for a moment. Ullar sat passively in his chair, Atlaga stiffening behind his General. Loss of control at War Council was an ill-advised move.
Vydar stood abruptly from his place, and locked eyes with every General in the room. “What I am about to tell you is of the utmost importance, so I suggest you listen carefully.”
Jandar piped up. “Are you suggesting that we have not paid sufficient attention thus f-” Aquilla shot him a look easily interpreted. Shut up.
Vydar continued, slowly and steadily. “Around the same time that Ullar’s reinforcement force was attacked in Bleakwoode, my south border was assaulted.” Now they understood Salah ad-Din’s presence. Border guard. “Salah ad-Din was there himself, along with his second in command and a company of his finest. The original post was manned by 50 men on horseback, under the command of Salah ad-Din. He and his son were the only ones to escape. They say they were attacked by cavalry, though the enemy did not ride upon horses.”
Jandar rubbed the bridge of his chiseled nose and sighed. “Fine. So your mercenaries were beaten by Grok Riders. So?”
Vydar snapped at him. “So these men were not attacked by Marro, Jandar. And for the sake of this Council, set aside your personal attitude towards Salah ad-Din, despite what you hear from the Templar. The mounts of the enemy are reported to be canine in origin, and incredibly vicious. The riders were armed with swords and bows, though they had little need of weapons. The mounts alone killed most of the horses and devoured the men.”
Jandar made a small muttering. Vydar whipped towards him. “Yes? You have something to... contribute, Jandar?” The words slid from the General’s mouth like a disgusting bit of foul slime.
“I said, Swog Riders! Your men were overpowered by a force of Orcs on cats. Simple. You waste the time of this Council for mangy Gruts?”
Aquilla burst out. “Jandar, for the sake of Vydar’s report, will you please keep your ego in check?” Jandar scowled, but kept silent.
“Thank you Aquilla. My spies were able to steal into the enemy camp after they captured the border, and retrieve samples of weaponry.” He rummaged through a bag at his side and threw onto the table a short bow, a black arrow with a razor tip and ragged feather, and a broad, ugly sword. The Generals stared at the weapons, and the elf at Ullar’s shoulder drew a sharp breath.
“This leads us to Ullar’s contribution of our report.” He spoke with a slight gentleness in his voice, and the Lord of Ekstrom rose, a slight tremor in his hand.
“What the scouts found at the site of- the elves death were craters. Many craters, with arrows embedded in the trees around.” Ullar withdrew an arrow from the pouch at his side. It was identical to the arrow on the table. Jandar made a last stand for his position.
“Surely we are overreacting to this? So arrows are found at widely separated positions, so what? Utgar has summoned a new force? A scouting force at best, if they are so far apart.” The Valkyrie’s chest was thrown out, and Thormun was avoiding looking at his General, glancing around the room.
Ullar shook his head solemnly. He motioned to the elf to step forward. All eyes in the room went to the being. He spoke in the tones of one with years beyond count, and they felt as though they were mere children by comparison. “I am an elf of the land Eryn Lasgalen. Only recently have I been summoned into your great war, and for my life, I am grateful. I was among scouts sent to the massacre in Upper Bleakwoode, and it was I that recognized these arrows for what they are.” He looked about the room, and even Jandar leaned in to listen. “In my world, the earth is in turmoil, and our peoples long to bring peace. The weapon before you is one used widely by our most perilous enemy. His forces, orcs of a different kind than Gruts, number in thousands, and manufacture new weapons of war, tools of fire and terror. I believe this is what caused the craters in the forest, and it is their cavalry that routed the men at Vydar’s southern border.” Salah ad-Din cast his eyes to the floor. The elf paused, staring at the man. “I am here today to tell you, that if this amount of the enemy have been summoned thus, more are to come. And their numbers will be greater than the Marro, than the Gruts, than all of Utgar’s horde. These forces are bred for a single purpose.” The elf looked about the table, his eyes lingering upon Jandar. The last words chilled the room as they left his lips. “To bring an end to life.”

[Tornado]

Pretty cool so far. When is the 'new elf' going to see some action? Well done, I always like reading about the ArchKyrie and Thormun to boot, nice.

[TGRF]

You certainly know how to make things epic. I'm looking forward to more of this. I'd give you +rep if I could.

[Son of Arathorn]

Too long since the last update, I know. School however, is a killer. Excuses, excuses, blah, blah.
Here's my excuse for the slow start- every story must have a beginning (usually) and in some stories, it just spreads out too darn long. So worry not, the action approaches.

Spoiler Alert!

Majunvest, War Chamber
Silence penetrated the room, thickening the air and forcing words down the throats of the Generals. Jandar awkwardly cleared his airway, but no speech issued, no inspiring words of confidence and victory did the Valkyrie speak. The elf moved back to his spot behind Ullar, who looked as though weight of every soul in Valhalla had been dropped upon his shoulders. Aquilla sat, stunned, and Vydar glared at Jandar, wings and army folded. It was Einar that broke the crushing absence of sound with a snarl.
“Oh, grow up!”
Aquilla twitched. “What did-”
“I said grow up! What? A new enemy arises and you cower? Are we to hide, to snivel and abandon our soldiers at the slightest hint of a challenge?”
Vydar near whispered. “We do not-
“Yes! You do! Look upon your physical reaction to danger, let alone what I can only imagine is going through your minds! Are we, or are we not Valkyrie? Forget Valkyrie, are we not kyrie? Because I do not see the might of our race in this room!” He stared at the map and continued without looking up. “Now. If this threat is spread to Upper Bleakwoode and Southern Anund, I think we can safely assume that they control most of Lower Bleakwoode, and are beginning to take Aunstrom?” General nods around the table. Aunstrom had been a no-mans-land since the Winter Campaign. “Then I propose we launch a counter-offensive, starting in Elswin.” He pointed to the area laden with golden markers, representing his own troops. “We have Jandar reinforce the bulk of my army, while Vydar and Ullar consolidate our resources in the southwest. It’s quite simple, really. We push south through Elswin and Upper Bleakwoode. Midway through, about the time we get halfway through the forest, Vydar and Ullar’s forces, hopefully reinforced by Aquilla-”
The Priestess of the Moon Tribe burst out. “What of my own borders? Utgar is keeping a steady siege on my lands going, how am I to push him back, let alone hold the line if Jandar is reinforcing you?”
Einar’s face was stone. His voice softened, but only just. “Aquilla, this enemy may be bigger than the fight in the south. This threat is huge. Keeping our presence in the north is taxing enough, and to run a campaign like this all the was to Anund will take-”
“Then I am not important? My land is not important? My people are not important, compared to yours, Einar?”
His voice lost all sympathy. “My people are irrelevant. This threat must be wiped out, extinguished, and soon if any land or people is to remain pure in this war, or we have already lost!”
Aquilla opened her mouth to continue, closed it, opened it again, and lowered herself into the chair at her back, slumped and defeated.
“Now, perhaps we ought to put this to a vote. Agreed?” The Valkyrie stared daggers at the others. Nods of assent all around, even Aquilla. “Those in favor of my plan?” Jandar immediately raised his hand. Vydar soon after. Ullar stared, confused for a moment, and then quickly put up his left hand. Einar raised his own, irrelevant though it was. Aquilla didn’t move. “Those opposed?” All eyes were on Aquilla. Not that it mattered, the council had the four fifths majority needed to launch the campaign, yet the great beings stared at the only female of their super-species. Aquilla kept still in her seat, hunched and broken. Einar cleared his throat, and spoke. “Then we now go to our armies and homelands, and prepare to march.”

Majunvest, War Chamber
Einar flew from the room quickly, followed closely by Jandar, lieutenants at their wings. Still Aquilla kept still. Moved to leave, but Vydar’s hand on his arm stopped him. “Wait.” The barely audible whisper wormed its way through the room. Vydar turned to the aides and right hands still in the room. “Leave us.” Six filed out, leaving the Valkyrie alone. Vydar started for the door, but Ullar shook his head. A minute passed, and the elf slipped from the shadows in the east corner of the room.
Aquilla leaped, startled at the sudden appearance. “What is this?” Suspicion laced the words.
Vydar twitched a smile. “I believe this is known as a conspiracy. Also defined as a trick, a scheme, and such. Would you care to join us?”
The Valkyrie stepped forward, nodding. The elf kept to the corner, watching with a a bemused expression.
“We all know there are certain flaws in this plan. Let’s not deny that. Aquilla, you are alone now in the council. Will you keep silent of this matter until necessary?” A nod before the words left his lips. “Good. From what we know of this enemy, it is difficult to properly engage, harder to fight, and nigh impossible to attain victory through force of arms. Correct?” A flashing glance to the elf, who stepped into the small huddle now formed by Valkyrie.
“Yes. From what I know of your armies, this plan is redundant. All that will be accomplished are a series of pathetic half-victories and crushing defeats. Einar and Jandar are jesting between themselves.”
“Einar and Jandar are fools.” All members of the newly birthed conspiracy stared at Ullar, struck dumb. Jandar had been Ullar’s main ally since the finding of the Wellsprings. “They are now too proud, too stubborn, too damned honorable!” He let out his breath. “I’ve had enough of councils and decisions for the day, and I have a feeling I’ll like what I hear. What do you want, Vydar?”
“I want information.” He turned to the elf. “We know this force will not be taken lightly by force. What of stealth?” The elf smiled.
“It is certainly worth an attempt. You’ve now sparked an idea in my head, child.”
Vydar mentally reeled as if struck, and sputtered. “Child? Did you call me a child!?!”
A knowing smile lit the creature’s face. “I have lived more lifetimes than you can imagine, young one. I have not felt young since leaving the forests of my home...” A faraway look entered his eyes, and then suddenly vanished like a dream brushed away by dawn. “Enough. You need not know the aspects of my race. As I was saying, I have an idea. Machines of war drive this army, as well as numbers. These may be taken from them with carefully placed moves, but no large army will accomplish this. If certain key points in their armies may be weakened, Einar and Jandar will be none the wiser, as their ‘plan’ will pull off without a hitch.”
Vydar nodded. “Very well. Then I propose a team, consisting of troops from each of our armies be formed. The purpose of this team will to be conduct operations behind enemy lines, targeting the newly summoned orc armies of Utgar. Destruction will be necessary, as will be stealth. Do we agree to enter an agreement to not reveal the existence of this team, and do we agree to contribute at least a single soldier to this team?” Aquilla and Ullar nodded, as did the elf. “Good. Then, who will be forming our non-existent team?” Aquilla was talking the second he said ‘who’. “I have the perfect stealth soldiers in mind. Men, trained in ambush and utilizing their environment to keep out of sight. Quite lethal in combat, too. And they have a leader.” Ullar replied.
“How many?”
“I would say seven men, plus their leader, making eight.”
“Very well. Then from my armies-”
The elf interrupted. “I will go.”
Ullar looked to the creature. “You are certain? You will most likely be completely cut off from all our aid.”
The elf smiled again. “I’ve been alone before.”
Vydar spoke. “I can’t think of a better being to have with the team. Nobody else in the armies knows the ways of this army, nor do we have knowledge of tactics, or weapons.”
Aquilla spoke softly, “We still require those skilled in demolition. Some of my dwarves are quite skilled with explosives and structures... though no more than three”
Vydar and Ullar exchanged glances. The former spoke. “Then those of your armies shall be men, dwarves, and you,” looking to the elf, “I myself have men skilled in both the required fields. Agents used to working undercover, armed with highly potent tech. I dare not send more than three.”
Ullar broke in. “Then a force of fifteen it is to be. Against a multitude of Utgar’s forces. We’ll need them assembled within the week if we are to beat the launching of Einar’s plan, and to assume a guise of conformity. Where?”
Aquilla spoke. “Simple, Braunglayde. In the northeast, I have an outpost ready. It’s small, out of the way. More of a hide, really. The month of Vloemon approaches, and with it the plains spanning northern Kinsland will flood. They can travel by boat through the Bitter Sea, into the Anundian Gulf. From there, over the flooded land of Kinsland. Once they reach Braunglayde, it’s a short trek to the outpost.”
Vydar nodded. “Perfect.” He turned for the last time in what would soon be months to the elf. “Now, you will be one of three primary leaders of the group. The other shall be, I assume, the man leading Aquilla’s representatives, and my Agents can work as a group. Let us now leave the room one at a time, over a few minutes, and act as if this meeting never occurred.” The Valkyrie walked to the door, spread his wings, and disappeared into the darkness of fallen night.

[TGRF]

Very good, SoA! I'm looking forward to the action!

[BOOM!]

Good writing, my LotR fan friend. Positive rep for you. Anyway good short HS story. I personally, can't stand writing about HS, (the mix of modern and fantasy isn't all that epic) but it's still fun to read. If I write anything, It'll be about modern OR fantasy, not both. No discredit to you though.