Wil Ogden - The Nightstone

“You mean nations?” Pantros said. “I thought there were four: Melnith, Grenlith, Valencia and Rahvenna.”

Sheillene then explained, “Twenty five thousand years ago there was one and it was called ‘Enlith’. That country stretched across the continent from one ocean to the other. Relarch didn’t exist; there were no humans because the Abvi had purged them around that time.”

“Why did they…” Pantros started to ask about the Purge when a crashing sound echoed through the dungeon. Snarled battle cries filled the halls. Dust filled the air and Bryan picked up his sword and rushed out of the room. Abvi Guards were yelling, but Pantros still didn’t speak enough of the language to understand them.

“Vulak!” Sheillene snarled. She stood and strung her bow.

Marc beat her to the hallway and chased after Bryan.

“I suppose I shouldn’t let them have all the fun,” Pantros said. He reached in his shirt and pulled out the Nightstone. He placed it in Tara’s hands and then drew his sword. He didn’t try to explain to Tara what she should do before following the others into the dust filled hall.

Deeper into the dungeons a wall had collapsed revealing a tunnel behind it. The tunnel was filled with Vulak, all pushing and shoving to get through the hole. Once through the hole they met Bryan and Marc. Marc’s swords were knocking the Vulak weapons aside and occasionally striking at the Vulak. Bryan’s sword lay on the floor behind him, as he simply grabbed any part of a Vulak he could. He then twisted whatever he’d grabbed and tossed the Vulak into the nearest wall.

Pantros heard the bowstring snaps and shafts appeared in the chests of the rushing Vulak. He knew better than to try to find a place in the fight between Bryan and Marc. The scar on his ear reminded him not to get between Sheillene and her targets and she had claimed the gap between the giants, though from ten paces back.

“You need to get into that mine,” Sheillene said. “We need to push them back and collapse the tunnel.” *That one, on the floor over there, it’s still breathing,” his sword said.

Pantros looked around and saw one of the Vulak starting to roll to his feet. Pantros thrust his sword through the Vulak’s heart. *It’s not the most honorable kill,* the sword said.*But we can’t afford to have Vulak standing up behind us. The Vulak would not be so kind to you if your positions were reversed. They’d break your legs, then your hands, then give you a gut wound, the kind that will kill you slowly and painfully.*

Bryan picked up a Vulak and swung it around then flung it back into the tunnel knocking a few others to the ground. Marc took the opening to step into the tunnel and Bryan followed after. The tunnel was wide and braced. The Vulak had spent time building the mine. Marc and Bryan could stand side by side with enough distance between them to fight and more than enough for Sheillene to shoot through. Pantros accepted the job of delivering the Coup-de-Grace on any Vulak that managed to survive as the two giants pushed into the tunnel.

“Hey Pan, Bring my sword with us,” Bryan said. “If this widens out, I’ll need it.”

Pantros picked up his friend’s sword. It weighed as much as a feast day turkey. He could hold it in one hand, but couldn’t swing it effectively with both. So he held it in his left hand by the ricasso with the blade nearly dragging behind him. He could still use his rapier to finish off the occasional enemy. Fewer survived for the giants to step over once Bryan had a wall right next to him to crush the Vulak against.

“Someone went for help, right?” Pantros asked Sheillene.

“I hope so,” Sheillene said. “I can re-use my arrows, but not always and I will run out and I will tire. And one of those Vulak might get lucky against the two big guys up front.

“I can help if you tire,” Prince Aven said as he approached from behind. “I can also heal so any Vulak would have to get extremely lucky.” He nodded behind him to a cluster of Abvi. “And, just in case, I brought forty of my best soldiers.”

Aven held a staff of gnarled wood that he held out and touched to Bryan’s back. Pantros hadn’t realized his friend had slowed until Aven’s touch clearly revitalized him. The same action on Marc provoked many Vulak Screams. Soon it was evident that they were no longer pushing the Vulak back but were chasing them out of the tunnel.

“Sword!” Bryan shouted.

Pantros realized they were fighting under a twilight sky and handed Bryan the huge sword. The Vulak again surged towards them coming in from all sides. They were in a clearing half a mile from the city walls and they were surrounded.

“I just need a moment,” Aven said. “I can use my magic to seal the tunnel, but it will take time to channel the amount of power I need.”

“You’ll have all the time you need, Tempest,” Bryan said, swinging his sword clean through a charging Vulak.

Aven’s soldiers spread around the tunnel’s opening, helping them defend the prince.

My name is Sheillene and I am your narrator. I don’t usually tell my tales as if they are about me, but this next part is very important to whom I became. While we travelled through the tunnel, each time I shot an arrow, there was the chance the Vulak could fall on it and break it. I recovered the ones I could and, by necessity, reused them. When we finally emerged from the tunnel, I’d run out of arrows. I slung my bow across my back and drew my sword.

Vulak fear Abvi organization. They didn’t really engage the prince’s soldiers more than stand just outside spear reach. But Marc and Bryan were not Abvi. The Vulak crowded towards them. The irony is that though the Abvi soldiers were highly disciplined, far fewer Vulak would have died if they’d tried to press through them than died trying to take down Marc or Bryan.

I stood with the two large men, but I lost track of Pantros, most of the time. Occasionally, I’d see him lunging among a cluster of Vulak and then darting back to the cover of the Abvi shield wall.

I still maintain that Marc is part ogre, though he vehemently denies it. Still, I am constantly surprised whenever I see him fight. I expect him to chop and hack using brute strength to power through the enemy’s blocks. He does not play that way. Every movement of his swords is a precision dance. No blow he threw was ever blocked by a Vulak. His blades seemed to find a way around every parry or through every opening in his opponents defense.

Bryan, on the other hand, though clearly trained in the art of sword fighting, relied heavily on his mass and strength. I saw him cleave more than one iron shield in half.

Eventually, it seemed the Vulak had learned to fear the three of us. I include myself because while the two giants were killing a Vulak with every heartbeat, I was at least dropping one with every breath. I am exaggerating a little, but we were killing a lot of Vulak. They’d noticed and they stopped pressing toward us.

A Vulak dressed in the most ornate leather armor I’d ever seen stepped forward from their retreating lines. He drew a pair of swords and gestured at Marc. Around us, the battle had paused. I could see some Vulak regrouping and others moving away. I don’t know to this day what that Vulak had hoped to accomplish, though I’ve learned there is a particular vanity among sword fighters who duel so I understand why Marc, surrounded by the enemy, accepted the challenge.

The Vulak screamed an order and every other Vulak in the area backed away, but all kept their eyes on where that Vulak and Marc met on the field. For a moment, the world was silent as the two swordfighters circled, sizing each other up. Vulak are a little bigger than Abvi, but nowhere near Marc’s size. I can only imagine the Vulak was thinking Marc would be lumbering. Just looking at Marc, I would never engage such a being in close combat. That Vulak must have been confident in his swordplay.