Path of Dragons

Book 2: Chapter 74: The Horde Arrives

Elijah awoke to the gentle sound of a flute. As his eyes fluttered open, he glanced around the enormous and garishly appointed room, but he couldn’t find the origin of the music. Yet, even so, he found it enormously soothing, as if it was capable of washing all of his cares away.

Of course, it only took a moment for him to remember the urgency of Ironshore’s situation, and when he did, that dense brick of anxiety that had plagued him for the past couple of weeks returned to the pit of his stomach. Tension tightened his muscles, ruining the restful night of sleep he’d just enjoyed.

For a long few minutes, Elijah wished he could just let unconsciousness return and carry him away into blissfully ignorant sleep. Yet, he knew he couldn’t do that. Not only did he have responsibilities to tend to, but any possibility of rest had disappeared the moment reality had reasserted itself. Even if he’d wanted to go back to sleep, he couldn’t have managed it.

So, with some regret, he threw his blankets aside and pushed himself upright. As he stretched, he noticed that the flute music had ceased, and in the back of his mind, he wondered if he was finally cracking under the pressure. After everything he’d been through, Elijah couldn’t help but think it was only a matter of time before his sanity slipped.

Sighing, he glanced toward the window. It was a huge, arched thing that stretched from the richly tiled floors to the molding near the ceiling, and ethera danced along the panes. He shook his head, ignoring the oddity as he looked out over the town. Despite being just past dawn, people were already up and about, moving with no small degree of urgency.

And Elijah couldn’t blame them, either.

Every report he’d read suggested that the orcs were soon to arrive. Perhaps it would be today, or maybe it would be tomorrow. But there was no doubt that they were coming, and soon. The people of Ironshore might not have been classed as combatants, but they intended to be ready to defend their new homes.

What other choice did they have?

None of them could afford the fee to teleport to another world, and fleeing into the wilderness was almost as dangerous as facing the orcs. It was especially so because the orcs certainly wouldn’t stop at Ironshore. They would keep going, sweeping across the land until there was nothing left.

With that fate before them, the idea of risking everything to cut the threat off before it could grow out of control was an attractive one. Still, some had already fled. Elijah had seen them leave during the night, and though he held no true grudge against them, he couldn’t help but think of those people as cowards. They’d been called to defend their homes, and they’d responded by running way.

As understandable as their response was, those were the actions of cowards.

Elijah pushed those thoughts out of his mind. He had no right to judge them. Certainly, he had the ability to resist. He could fight back. But what was a Cobbler supposed to do against a horde of orcs? What of a Cook? Or a Fisherman? They simply weren’t equipped to confront the threat, and so, they’d taken the only path available to them.

Then again, they could still help, and that help could well prove the difference in the coming battle.

Elijah’s own actions stood in stark contrast to theirs. He was no resident of Ironshore, but he hadn’t truly hesitated to come when called. Sure, part of that was motivated by self-interest, but even so, he’d shown up. That the same couldn’t be said for every person who called Ironshore home was enough to turn Elijah’s anxiety to simmering anger. He wondered if, when he and the city’s other defenders defeated the orcs, the deserters would be welcomed back.

Maybe.

But he suspected not. For his part, Elijah had no idea what he would do if he was in charge, and he was glad that was not a decision he’d be forced to make.

Whatever the case, he pushed himself to his feet and stretched. The bed had been comfortable, but after sleeping outside so often, it had been a little too soft. Still, he wasn’t going to complain. After that, he headed to the bathroom, where he took care of his business – the presence of a toilet, even one with an odd design, was definitely an improvement over living outdoors – and washed his face. With that done, he donned his clothing and equipment before checking himself in the mirror.

He had changed so much over the past few years, but in a lot of ways, not at all. His hair was much longer than it had ever been before Earth had been touched by the World Tree, and his beard a bit scragglier. Yet, he looked younger and, if he was honest with himself, slightly more handsome than he had even before his cancer diagnosis.

Slightly marring that effect were the scars that still hadn’t faded. His right arm still bore the mark of his torturous time in the whale’s physics-defying stomach, and the curious, crack-like evidence of his ill-advised misuse of Ancestral Circle remained on his chest and neck. Even so, he wasn’t the disfigured abomination those features might have suggested. Instead, he felt they were just interesting rather than off-putting.

But he could at least acknowledge that he was a little biased on that account. Certainly, Delilah hadn’t minded, which he thought should have counted for something. Of course, given her insatiable enthusiasm, he didn’t think she would have minded if he had been missing whole limbs.

As he thought of her, he couldn’t help but grin.

It had been a long three years, and that night had been quite the stress reliever.

Though it wasn’t long before Elijah shook his head. He couldn’t afford to just sit around and reminisce about a woman he would probably never see again. It had been fun and, in a lot of ways, necessary, but it was over. It was never going to be more than a one-night thing.

Besides, he had other things he needed to focus on, like the impending orc invasion. So, he straightened his shirt, ran his fingers through his hair, then left the bathroom behind. On his way out, he grabbed his staff and pack before leaving the ridiculously opulent room behind. As he strode down the hall, his feet slapped on the cold tile, the sound punctuated by the clack of his staff against the same. Soon, he reached the sweeping stairs that led down to the lobby, and after that short descent, he was greeted by the hotel’s goblin manager, Dakar.

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“I trust everything was to your liking, sir?” ventured the short, green-skinned fellow.

“It was,” Elijah said. “You guys do breakfast around here? Or should I go elsewhere?”

“Alas, but no,” said Dakar with an apologetic shake of his head. “I’m afraid our cooks fled in the night. I hope you won’t hold that against the Imperium.”

Elijah shrugged. “Not your fault,” he said. Then, he reached into his pocket and retrieved his folio. “What do I owe you?”

Dakar answered, “Nine silver.”

Elijah nearly choked, but he’d already been told it was expensive. So, he paid the fee and headed in search of some breakfast. To his distress, most of the city’s buildings had been boarded up and were closed for business. So, he ended up wandering toward the southern side of town, where the defenses were the thickest. There, he found Kurik supervising yet more ditch digging.

“Get a good night’s rest?” he asked the dwarven scout.

“Rest? What rest?” groused Kurik, running a hand through his coarse and spiky hair. “Ain’t nobody got time to rest with an orc horde on our doorstep. We ain’t all fancy like you, stayin’ at the Imperium.”

“It was a bit much,” Elijah said with a laugh. “Even the toilet was gold.”

“A gold shitter? Ain’t that a sight to see,” Kurik laughed.

Elijah doffed his pack, then reached inside. He grabbed a handful of berries and, after popping one in his mouth, asked, “Want one?”

Kurk took the offered berry, and when he ate it, his eyes lit up. “What in all of Ignis was that?”

“Like it?”

“’Course I like it! Where’d you get those?”

Elijah shrugged, popping another into his mouth. One was more than enough to sate his hunger, but he wanted to make a point. As he chewed, he said, “Here and there. You know how it is. You’re out adventuring, you find a bush full of pseudo natural treasures. May as well pick a few, right?”

“I hate you,” the dwarf muttered.

“So you don’t want another?” asked Elijah. He’d gone back to his island a couple of days before, specifically to gather some of the miraculous berries. His reasoning was that they made for perfect travel rations, but in reality, he was just tired of eating dried and peppery meat.

“Gods damned right I want some more.”

Elijah acted as if he wasn’t certain about doing just that, but then knocked it off when the dwarf started looking a bit antsy. After that, he grabbed another handful and handed it over. To his credit, Kurik made sure all his men got a berry before eating his second one.

After that, Elijah took a swig from one of his jugs of water and asked, “So, you think they’ll be here today?”

“I’m sure of it,” Kurik stated, staring off across the field. There were nearly a dozen ditches between him and the tree line, each one lined with sharpened stakes. Most had been modified with various abilities, as well. But to Elijah, it seemed a pitiful defense for what he knew was coming. As if he could read Elijah’s mind, Kurik said, “Ain’t no shame in runnin’. You don’t owe us nothin’.”

“I’m good,” was all he said in response. Kurik knew better than to push, and the two fell silent. And before long, Elijah went to help the scouts as they continued to dig trenches and festoon them with stakes. Like that, the hours passed until, at last, someone raised the alarm. The clear sound of a ringing bell swept across the would-be battlefield, letting everyone know that, finally, the orcs had arrived.

Kurik asked him, “You ready for this?”

“Not really,” Elijah admitted. Over the past couple of years, he’d fought quite a bit, but he’d never been in a real battle. And he knew enough to recognize how different the two situations were.

“Me neither,” admitted Kurik.

“Is anyone ever?”

Kurik shook his head, saying, “Probably not. But –”

It was at that moment that the first orcs stepped out from the tree line. They were just as huge, muscular, and savage-looking as ever, which softened the psychological blow of what Elijah knew was about to happen. The orcs had overwhelming numbers on their side, but Elijah knew they were going to need those and more.

The orcs kept piling out from within the forest as they amassed just outside of the city’s defensive perimeter. There were thousands of them, and each one started howling for blood the moment they caught sight of the city and its defenders.

Elijah glanced to his side, and he saw that the townspeople had all come the moment the alarm had been raised. Not only did he see hundreds of people he didn’t recognize – goblins in three-piece suits, dwarves wearing the heavy clothing of miners and wielding picks, as well as gnomes with oversized weapons – but there were plenty he did know. Mari, the tailor, wielding a giant club. The trio of barbers, armed with shears. Ramik with an elegant rapier, and Carisa, who was armed with a pair of hand axes. Even Dakar, the proprietor of the swanky Imperium, had shown up, though he didn’t appear to be armed.

But rather than find it comforting, Elijah couldn’t help but wonder how many of them would die before the day was done.

He only had a few more moments to contemplate the mortality of his allies before the orcs let out a collective roar, jerking his attention back to the upcoming battle. The grey-skinned monsters surged as one, accelerating into a sprint before leaping clear over the first ditch. Then the next. And the next after that. However, they all didn’t make it, and because of the nature of such a crowd, the ones in the back couldn’t maintain the momentum necessary to complete the leap.

They ended up impaled on the stakes, and their cries of pain were even louder than the enraged shouts of their comrades. Elijah ignored them all, his knuckles whitening as he tightened his grip on the Staff of Natural Harmony. He could feel the familiar carved roots digging into his palm as the orcs raced across the battlefield. Every ditch claimed a few more casualties, and that number climbed as the rest of the orcish army flooded out of the trees.

Then, when the orcs were only a few dozen feet away, Elijah raised his staff and cast Swarm. The now-familiar nimbus of red energy bloomed into being as one of the shaman – unseen amidst the horde – blocked the manifested insects from reaching the orcs. Yet, that was never Elijah’s goal.

Next, he cast Calamity.

A natural disaster of myriad proportions erupted among the orcs. Slicing winds, rumbling earth, and sizzling lightning tore through them. But they were once again protected by the shaman.

However, Elijah had been watching, and he pinpointed the origin of that red-tinted ethera. That’s when he saw the shaman.

Elijah cast Brand of the Stalker. The spell, which was usable in any of his forms, cut through the chaos as well as the shaman’s attempt at a block, and it slammed into the creature’s chest. The instant it landed, Elijah knew precisely where the monster was. He could have closed his eyes, and it wouldn’t have made a bit of difference.

He raised his staff high into the air, and the rest of the defenders cut loose with any ranged abilities they had at their disposal. For some, that meant loosing a barrage of arrows. For others, there were spells and skills. Fireballs and ice spikes, earthen spears and balls of roiling electricity fell among the horde, scorching, freezing, and impaling. Yet, on the swell of slavering savages came.

Elijah didn’t waste his ethera on any more ranged attacks. Instead, he cast Healing Rain, then checked that his various enhancements were active. For this sort of battle, he’d chosen Essence of the Boar, Essence of the Lion, Aura of Renewal, and Shield of Brambles. As always, One with Nature and Essence of the Wolf were active as well.

However, he’d made certain that his various enhancements weren’t limited to himself. Instead, he’d spent much of the morning making certain that each and every person he could see were augmented by appropriate spells. Hopefully, it would be enough to keep some of them alive.

For now, though, as the orcs charged through Calamity and a hundred other spells and skills, he shifted into his lamellar ape form. It was the first time that most of the townspeople had seen it, and even in the chaos of an impending clash, the sight drew quite a few gasps. One overzealous – or frightened – person even hit him with a weak fireball. Elijah ignored it.

Instead, he planted his feet, roared, and beat his chest as he prepared to meet the orcs’ charge.