Steven Burke - The Dark Tide

Kana summoned demonic dogs to distract Adair and she positioned herself for her next move. The massive beasts rushed the guardian who simply vanished and reappeared behind them. He lassoed the five beasts and pulled tight on the blue rope. Each head popped off unceremoniously and they fell to the ground. Kana felt she had the advantage now and used her underworld powers to open a portal to the keeper. A massive black hand reached from the depths toward Lord Adair.

“Zege” bellowed the guardian. The opening snapped shut and the hand disappeared. He turned to look at Kana once more. He had used the sacred language of the elements to close off the portal to the underworld. Kana still underestimated his abilities.

“You think you have won? You have done nothing…” chided Kana briefly before she was blasted far off into the distance. Adair had used all the elements to send her back to her new home in Nairi to the west.

As the guardian turned to the battle at hand, it was clear that his distraction had been costly. The drugars had overrun the village and the dwarves were in full retreat to the capital. Adair quickly identified the most troublesome demons and decided to deal with them. He rose into the air in a silvery mist. The demons below were drawn to his appearance overhead and started for him. Before they got too far, the guardian lashed out with considerable force. A wide variety of lightning lashed out at the various demons…some hit so hard that they were incinerated while others were stunned. Each hit sent out a shock wave that killed hundreds of drugars.

***

The commander of the outer wall watched as a magical battle was fought at the rear of the advancing drugar hordes. The dwarf was not distracted overly long as he waited for the dwarves in retreat to reach the safety of the walls. While he watched the battlefield unfold before him he heard the shrieks of the giant eagles. They cast ominous shadows over drugars who immediately started running every direction at once. The first series of boulders smashed into the beasts below with great effect. The second assault was more up close and personal. Eagles were seen diving in and out of the hordes. The golden feathers turned a dark red color as they continued to attack.

The eagles made their way to the back and the edges of the aggressors. There would be no escape. While the drugars were initially unsettled, the remaining demons were quick to regain control. The dwarven commander did not want to lose the advantage he had gained, so he ordered the trebuchets to unleash hell on their ancient nemesis. The massive boulders were smooth and completely round. When they hit the ground they did so at an angle. This allowed the bulky projectile to continue its destruction by using its remaining kinetic energy to roll over even more furry beasts.

In retaliation, the larger demons grabbed drugars and hurled them at the wall. They were still out of range and many beasts were needlessly crushed to death. The drugars stopped advancing as they were now being assailed by dwarves who were springing up out of the ground. The dwarves who were in retreat did not actually make it to the wall; they went into tunnels and back tracked to surprise the furry beasts. The tide of the battle turned toward the dwarves of Ennis and the demons knew it.

As soon as it was clear to the demons that this assault was a lost cause they started to vanish into thin air. After hours of battle only the drugars and dwarves remained. General Chad had made it to the battle finally and had taken command of the situation. He ordered the troops to completely surround the vile perpetrators of unneeded death. There was only one order he gave after that. “Kill every last one of them…we end their threat now!”

The battle for Mount Ennis was over in matter of days. When dwarven soldiers became too weary to lift an axe or heft a hammer, another would take their place. They rotated thusly until the threat of the drugars was over. It was sad to end such creatures as they were the last of their kind and were from an age long forgotten. In wartime such considerations went by the way side. Survival instincts take over and the only consideration is how to save your own kind. It was still a loss to Tuwa and there would be time later to mourn their extinction.

General Chad organized the army without further interference. He organized the relief effort to their brethren in the south. He knew that it would take some time to get his army ready to move out and did his best to remain patient. The dwarves of the north needed to make their presence known in order to get the attention off of Adem and Carrick. He spent the next couple of weeks planning and strategizing on different ways to do just that. He wanted to make a good first impression since the army of Ennis has never really been in action outside their island in years.

The old man from the east had promised that this war would not find them. Yet, Belva burned. Men, women, and children were run down in the street by black nightmares. These creatures were ghost stories to scare children into better behavior. The black devils were more myth or legend…they were not supposed to be real. Tell that to the people being burned alive. Tell that to the dark elves who appeared out of a dark mist that came from the east and not the west. They descended upon the people of this port town with vengeance and ruthlessness that defied description. The horrors were too great for many who opted to take the quick way out. Dead bodies lay everywhere.

Children roamed the streets crying out for their parents. This would bring an arrow or more gruesome reply for such innocence. The stories of the dark elves had always said that they were without morals or fear. It was completely different to experience firsthand their brutality. The dark tide moved through the streets with ruthless efficiency. The Silver Anchor was decimated and its owner rent to pieces in front of his patrons. Absolute terror gripped the people as they watched their doom come at them like a tidal wave.

Rain began to pour down on the city which turned the dirt streets into mud mixed with blood and gore. The atrocities committed against the innocent people of Belva were worse than any other such incident in recorded history. There was nowhere to hide. The end was drawing close for those few survivors. In all, only fifty survived the day and a half assault. The survivors gathered in the local church to make their last stand. Only a handful of dark elves surrounded the church and they made no move against it. This gave hope to those inside that they were being protected by a higher power.

“What do you have to live for?” taunted a dark elf who was growing bored standing around in the rain.

“Each moment in life is a gift and should be treasured” retorted one of the survivors boldly. The voice was firm and full of conviction.

“I see…you believe the creator will save you…that you are sacrificing yourselves for the greater good. Do you think it makes any difference to the creator what you do? Where was he when we descended upon you? Why did he not save you?” jeered another elf from the circle surrounding the church. Dark laughter filled the smoke filled air.

“Your words are meaningless and hollow. I know my maker and I am prepared to meet him. You deny your maker and are enslaved to the keeper. You will see what the keeper does for those that serve him in the end. There is no curse we can levy against you that would be worse than what your master has in store for you” replied a female voice this time. There was no hint of fear in that voice.

The dark elves shot flames at the church as one. They had tired of taunting their prey and wanted to move on to other things. There were shouts of terror and pain as the remaining few were burned alive. In a matter of two days the entire town of Belva had been demolished. The people were all dead and the buildings had all been razed to the ground. The only sign that anything had existed here before were the piles of smoldering ashes.