Chapter 138:
Anton watched over the calm seas from the safety of the Dark Elf ship. Unlike The Snowberry, and other human ships, the Dark Elf ship slipped through the water with barely a wave left in its wake. While it excelled in speed and subtly it lacked in size and cargo capacity. It could only hold a fraction of a human ship. Cetina leant against the dark wooden railing and watched the fish swim past. Many came up close to the hull, curious about the strange object cutting through their home, some even following for a time, before darting away. Verona and Kal were back in Atros, trying to get the Chirok’s to settle in. They had come without much fuss, especially the children, and appeared to enjoy the change of scenery. With a few pieces of meat, they became extremely compliant. The Dwarves, who were afraid they might be seen as a morsel of food, had designed a wooden pen for the Chirok’s where they could live in peace. The Chirok’s obeyed their words, Fliodher touch still lingered, and appeared to understand that people were not food. That was very easy to convey after they had full bellies. Bertram had complained about the increase in meat demand but the portals could accommodate the increase, as well as buying some more animals and food.
Everything was going well but Anton’s mind wasn’t even thinking about the gift from Fliodher, however interesting.
His mind focused on the dead whale and the green Strega Magic he felt within. The shell around his neck had begun trembling, sending rhythms through his chest, before even touching the hard skin. It was difficult to search through the corpse but he couldn’t determine what the magic was supposed to do, other than looking at what happened to the unfortunate whale.
“Any word from Ferula?” Cetina asked.
Her back twisted as she tried to restrain her anger. She wasn’t watching the fish just for the fun of it.
Ferula’s communication pen lay before Anton. He didn’t want to give her something akin to the rings. However, they had waited some time without any response.
“Not yet.” Anton tapped the dark red marbled wood table. “Hasn’t even moved. I’m wondering if more Bounty Hunters turned up. More than thirty this time.”
“They took them down so easily,” Cetina mumbled. “Unless they had an entire army.”
“I wonder if the mages that Graterian commander… General Ricimer was dragging around could beat her.”
Cetina touched her eyepatch. “They did act very oddly while the Demons were invading. Leaving it to us.”
Anton tapped the table again. “I don’t think they knew about our magic then. But…”
The pen began to move. Cetina pushed herself off the wooden railing and moved to Anton’s side. She stood a pace further back than Verona or Kal would stand.
Hello Anton. Do you want me to come to you? I can tell that you’re on a boat near The Shadow Isles.
You can follow this magic?
Only where it’s going, not what it’s saying.
No idea if that’s a lie. We did leave it with her so she’s probably poked the damn thing.
I wanted to know what use Brix whale oil might be of use.
The pen remained stationary for some time.
That oil is useful in creating potions and concoctions, your Glyph Magic doesn’t have to worry about such things but we do. Though any whale oil will usually work for that. Brix oil is extremely potent when creating unbinding rituals. Like removing a ward or protective spell. And most importantly there’s almost no chance of the ward activating and killing the unbinder. It’s quite useful, I have some if you wish.
“Looks like they are after those artefacts.” Anton rubbed his forehead. “I don’t think we can defeat them. Maybe some apprentices and adepts but I can’t imagine beating someone as powerful as Ferula.”
Cetina frowned deeply.
“And if they attack Atros it’s all over.”
“We can’t trust Ferula,” Cetina spoke very softly. “She still wants those stones. She said the others became too extreme, not that she gave up.”
“What to say…”
Thank you, Ferula. I think we’ll be fine from here.
I’ll investigate The Shadow Isles, see if they’re up to something there and deal with them if they are. You won’t even know we are there. Oh, by the way, everyone is recovering well.
That’s good. Those burns were horrific.
She has learned the error of her ways. She will require more training before she’s sent out again.
Probably should have done that the first time.
Good luck, Anton.
And to you, Ferula.
The pen fell silent and still. Anton wrapped the paper up and returned them to his pack. Cetina continued to look a little miffed but understood why they had to speak with Ferula. They had to know, even if it could instigate some sort of internal Strega conflict.
“Hello?” Verona popped her head from below deck. “How are you two going?”
She and Kal stepped onto the deck.
“Good.” Anton pointed forward. “We’re almost at the northern point of the Green Moon Island. I was about to contact you. Everything well back home?”
“Absolutely.” Verona leapt up and pecked his lips. “Dealt with the Chirok’s, they seem happy, and a few other things.”
“Other things?”
“Nothing you need to worry about.” Verona smiled. “A few people were getting uppity while you were gone and they just needed a little reminding who was in command.”
“Tell me about that later,” Anton said firmly. “I need to know everything I can.”
“We will.”
“It really wasn’t anything bad.” Kal kept her face flat. “As you said, you can’t expect the humans and Beast-kin to just get along right away.”
Anton nodded. There wasn’t much he could do right now, his attention and resources were already stretched to their limit. Preferably he would remain in Atros to settle everyone into their new life but things had a way of disrupting those plans.
“I’m keeping Luna away from the Chirok’s.” Verona chuckled. “Don’t want them to think that they’re dinner.”
“Excuse me, Anton.” Tuccac approached, his bow ready. “But we’re almost at the port. There are hundreds of Goblins watching us from the cliffs.”
The Green Moon’s Island was far rockier than the others. While it held significant vegetation there were only impassable cliffs and boulder laden inaccessible beaches. A number of Goblin corpses in various stages of decomposition lay in the rocks. Some were emaciated and looked longingly at the grass and shrubs above, there was no way back up.
“I’ve never been but my father said the soil is poor, for both plants and mining. The people are tough and hardy but…”
“Everyone wishes for more.” Anton finished. “So they turned to piracy. Doesn’t look like there’s much here.”
A small lighthouse came into view at the very end of the island, similar to the DuskReavers but ruined and broken. Goblins still idly wandered near the piles of stone but Anton doubted they had caused the destruction. The Green Moon clan had been forbidden to own ships, why care about a lighthouse?
The Dark Elf ship entered a small bay beyond the lighthouse, the source of the light was as clear as day.
A fortress lay at the end of the bay but nothing like Anton had seen, at least nothing like in this world. The giant fortress lay before them, easily as large as Nonbur’n, made from the same dark obsidian stone as the land bridges. What immediately drew Anton’s attention was the dock built into the fortress. There were no ships anchored, in a dock with enough room for ten very large ships, but the dock itself was well maintained, not something he expected from a clan banned from holding ships. A long archway stuck out from the fortress facing the dock. Though hidden in shadow Anton could make out the fall wall. A large and well-built wooden wall. One wide enough for a ship to pass through.
“Clever.” Anton chuckled. He only received questioning looks. “The Green Moon Clan didn’t stop making ships. They just moved it underneath cover, inside the fortress. It’s certainly large enough to hold ten ships. And that’s all you’d need for raiding. Reminds me of a place from back home. They did this too.”
And then Rome destroyed them. But the point still stands.
Ceccitol smiled. “The only way to see it is by coming straight in. And they could pass it off by saying there are damaged sections of the fortress.”
“The Green Moon clan were always devious.” Tuccac smiled. “I suppose that’s what made them such great pirates.”
Above the large wooden gate, lights flickered in the hundreds of windows overlooking the bay. The way the lights were established, at regular intervals, told him it wasn’t the work of the Goblins. Something moved past the light at walking speed. Anton enhanced his eyes and saw it was a Dark Elf. He was tired and haggard but very much alive. He glanced out and continued on his patrol. The next window he stopped and stuck his head out. Anton felt compelled to wave, that alone would show they weren’t the normal hostiles bearing down on them. The Dark Elf stood completely still before something snapped him back to reality. He ran and disappeared deep into the fortress. Worryingly, despite the enormity of the fortress, Anton could only see one Dark Elf on patrol.
“Now they know we are here.”
“The Green Moon survived?” Ceccitol scrunched her eyes. “But they’re all dead. How, how can they be alive after all this time? They’re in the heart of the infestation. It all started here.”
“A fortress like that could easily hold off a massive assault,” Cetina replied. “With enough supplies, it could last a long time.”
“Especially if the Goblins attention is towards the south,” Kal added.
The docks were not free of Goblins. A small number of Green’s roamed over the wood and stone dock. Anton waved to Ceccitol to attack, there wasn’t a need to bring down a potential horde on their little ship. The Green Goblins, blind as they were, fell without knowing what struck them. The sailors jumped onto the dock and fastened the ropes. Anton was glad to be on solid ground, even though it had only been for a short time.
Anton summoned two large Lightning Crow and directed it into the sky to attack any Goblin within range. While it wouldn’t stop the hordes it would thin them down and give the defenders some breathing room.
“Do we wait?” Verona pointed to a huge pile of rocks barricading a small door. One of the rocks was bigger than the door itself. “Don’t think they can break down the stones from this side.”
“Let’s wait a moment,” Anton said. “I don’t think the Green Moon aren’t prepared for sneaky intruders.”
The rumble of lightning bolts, raining down from the two circling large Lightning Crows, echoed over the fortress. From the relative safety of the dock, Anton saw the Goblins run away from the fortress and into the relative safety of the forest. Their siege of the fortress was strange; despite being so deep in Goblin controlled territory their assault seemed half-hearted and flimsy, not what Anton expected from a horde led by the diminutive Red Goblin.
Verona rested onto Anton’s chest. “Any moment now.”
Cetina’s attention was drawn to a stack of crates near the edge of the dock. It, like everything else, had been attacked by the Goblins but they had failed to break through. On its side lay an insignia, a scimitar next to a crescent moon with a five-pointed star above.
“Frindal Emirate.” Cetina gently kicked the box. “How long were the Green Moon Clan banned from having ships?”
“Before I was born.” Ceccitol grimaced. “So that’s quite a bit for you.”
“I remember seeing something similar to this when I was very young. This is a new symbol for the Frindal Emirate, with the new Sultan…After he took the throne from his brothers and killed them all. There never used to be a star. So within the last ten or so winters.”
“They’d just leave something like that out in the open?” Verona asked before looking up at Anton.
“Maybe they were offloading when the attacks started.” Anton began. “I’d get the ships inside first then worry about this. Unless it’s related somehow.”
Verona glowed red and broke the crate open. An impressive array of weapons lay inside; curved short swords and maces alongside a neat stack of thin daggers. While these were clearly worth some money, and worthwhile to steal, it didn’t explain why they were so far north. The Frindal Emirate was to the south of their continent by many miles.
“Unless they stole it from a Bebbezzarian ship,” Anton said. “That makes more sense.”
“I think these will be ours.” Verona smiled at Cetina. “If they got it from a Bebbezzarian ship there’s one person here they should go to.”
Ceccitol waved to a pair of Dark Elves and loaded the crate onto the ship. There were many more crates littering the dock, it would be rude to just take everything right away.
Kal tapped Anton’s shoulder and pointed towards the fortress. Five shadows moved through the lights towards the debris sealed door. The lower windows were boarded uptight but one came free. A shrouded warrior stuck its head out. Anton waved but only received a quizzical head tilt in return. With clear hesitation, the warrior beckoned them forward.
“Who are you?” The warrior whispered harshly. Every part of his armour had been adjusted to reduce noise to an absolute minimum, padding and soft cloths covered anything that might make a noise.
“We’re here to help,” Anton said. “We’re from the DuskReaver Clan. Can you let us inside?”
“No. Not that we don’t want help. Every passage has been sealed to stop the Goblins getting in, not that it’s stopped them. We could throw down a rope?”
Anton looked to the crates. While they could easily form steps high enough they would allow the Goblins access. However, he had someone that could make something like that with little issue.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Verona chuckled nervously.
“Can you make your blood into a set of stairs?”
“I….Oh. Okay. No problem.” Verona glowed red. “I’ll need a bit more though.”
After Verona had collected enough blood she formed a narrow, hollow staircase of crystallised blood towards the window. Though it was barely wider than a foot it was more than enough for their purpose. The shrouded Green Moon warriors looked on in disbelief but offered no objection. Verona gave a tiny nod and everyone began the ascent. The blood was incredibly smooth to stand on, their boots often felt like they were about to slip, while Anton was having great trouble with his, they all made it inside. Verona took as much blood as she could and released the rest.
“I’d like to see that in the Advanced book.” Verona beamed with pride.
“I knew it would work.” Anton patted her armoured head.
“Is that everyone?” The Shrouded warrior asked.
“Aren’t you worried about us?” Anton asked. “You don’t even know who we are.”
“I’m not worried.” The Shrouded warrior shrugged. “No one would work with those things.”
That’s not entirely true…
The warriors moved to the windows and fastened them tight after taking one quick look along the dock. No Goblins had returned and those they could see were completely unaware of their presence.
“How bad is it?” The warrior asked, removing the cloth head wrapping as a small green tassel came free around his neck.
The male Dark Elf was young, young being relative for a long-lived and youthful race, but had the tell-tale marks of weathered skin from spending a long time on the open sea. The others, two were women, held the same look.
“Let’s start with the introductions.” Ceccitol raised her hand and stepped in. “Before we get ahead of ourselves.”
“Sorry. It’s just been so long since we’ve seen a friendly face that…Didn’t expect to see humans though.”
Ceccitol briefly explained who they were. The Green Moon warriors were almost in tears simply just knowing Dark Elves still lived, that this fortress was not all that was left of their race.
“Thank the Old Gods.” The man breathed deep, calming his excitement. “Not everything has been lost. We’ve lost track of how long we’ve been stuck in this fortress.”
“We can evacuate surviving clan member.” Anton began. “Without needing the ships you probably have hidden here.”
“I-”
“It’s pretty clear if you know what you’re looking for,” Anton said. “The door and the fact you haven’t let the dock fall into disrepair.”
“We still fish.” The warrior was oddly defiant. “That isn’t outlawed, unless they want us to starve.”
“And the crates from the Frindal Emirate?” Kal asked, raising an aqua brow.
The warrior frowned but confirmed their suspicions.
Anton waved him down. “I honestly don’t care. But, who’s in command of this fortress?”
“That would be my father, Leran. He’s in the…the inner dock.” The warrior turned to his fellows. “I’m Cagec.”
“A pleasure to meet you.” Anton reached out to shake his hand. He hesitated but shook his, if only to mimic his actions. “Though I wish we had met under better terms.”
“Yes…This way.” Cagec pointed to two of the shrouded warriors. “Stay here and keep watch. We don’t know if the Goblins will try to come this way. Especially after all this noise and excitement.”
Cagec began leading along the small corridors. The fortress was clearly designed to repel invaders with minimal defenders, every design choice funnelled attackers into tight chokepoints. Anton had the feeling that the fortress wasn’t built by the Dark Elves. It lacked their architecture, even when compared to the Mist Walkers tower, and was built very quickly but designed to last. Dwarvish, even.
“How is the rest of The Shadow Isles?” Cagec asked. He and the other Green Moon warriors kept an extremely vigilant watch, searching every nook and cranny for a potential attacker. “Has the mainland fallen?”
Ceccitol moved to the front. “The Shadow Isles are still free. Mostly. Your Island has fallen, so has another two. So has the northern quarter of the mainland.”
Cagec closed his eyes and sighed lightly. “We held hope that others of our clan might have survived. That they might fight their way here. But…As time passed we knew there wasn’t anyone else alive.”
“How many do you have?” Anton asked.
“At first we had seven thousand. Now, three.” Cagec grunted. “Barely three.”
He stopped at a junction and pointed deeper into the fortress. A small group of women warriors, in full armour and weapons, tried to coral and entertain the children. They dressed in spare pieces of armour reformed into something their smaller forms could wear. Many white strikes adorned the leather sections, some very recent. However, their play looked very forced, like they were simply acting out their parts with no enthusiasm. They held a silence and reservation when attention drifted away from them. They knew things were very, very bad and their mothers were acting too.
Cagec directed them forward before they attracted too much attention. One child saw them pass but didn’t understand. He simply returned to the others. Only then did Anton realise that the children had placed quivers of arrows on the far wall. Ammunition carriers. They were truly desperate for manpower.
The air quickly grew more humid, with a slight hint of salt, as the sound of wood groaning echoed down the hallway. Ten large boats lay inside a dock nestled deep inside the fortress, gently rocking back and forth, occasionally colliding with the walls by the gentle swell of the ocean. Hundreds of Dark Elves moved about the inner dock, moving supplies and checking over their weapons. Many rested in small groups, huddled around small fires or helping fletchers make arrows. Everyone held the same air as the children; they were all but dead men walking, their bodies just needed to catch up to their minds.
Why haven’t they just taken to the ships and fled the island? Why wait here?
“My father should be this way.” Cagec pointed to a small gathering of Dark Elves. They stood before a map of what appeared to be the fortress. Many areas were marked in red, angrily scratched off.
“Let’s hope they listen,” Verona whispered. “More than the Elders did anyway.”
Anton and Kal agreed.
Whispers grew through the Dark Elves as they passed through. A wave of life washed over everyone they passed.
“Father!” Cagec shouted.
“Did you find the source of the disturbance?” Leran asked gruffly, refusing to turn away from the map. “There’s lightning raining all around the fortress, all three of our mages are long dead, and someone’s seen suspicious activity at the dock. We can’t have any of those little bastards getting through. We’ve already had to give up so much ground. Well, did you? I may be turning senile but I’ve still have my mind.”
“I did.” Cagec scratched his head. “But they weren’t Goblins.”
“What are you blabbering about boy?” Leran groaned and slowly turned around, one hand resting on a thick cane. “Did you let them in or…”
Leran stared dumbstruck at who stood before him. Leran looked like a more weathered and older version of Gerin. Compared to the other warriors, wearing soundproofed clothing, his was unashamedly loud and almost garish in a way. He actually looked like a pirate.
“Wha…” Leran blinked, unable to comprehend what he was seeing. “Wh-How?”
Leran approached Ceccitol, his hand outstretched. Tuccac moved in front but Leran didn’t care. He reached for the purple tassel around his neck and rubbed the rough material through his fingers. A faint tear came to his eye.
“You aren’t some old man’s delusion.” Leran hugged Tuccac with all his might. Tuccac froze, his hands shot out and tensed. Slowly he returned the hold, gently patting his back as tears rolled down Leran’s weathered face.
---[]---
Leran gently rocked back and forth on his chair. “I can’t believe there’s anyone still alive. And, and you say that most of the Island Clans still live?”
Ceccitol nodded. “Yes. And the Mainland clans…” She glanced at Anton. “Are helping. To push back the Goblins.”
Leran looked stumped. He began laughing, slapping his knee as the other Green Moon Dark Elves laughed alongside.
“Definitely strange times. Those stuck up pricks would never lift a finger to help us unless they needed to.”
Word of their presence quickly spread throughout the Green Moon survivors. They dared not approach, not after a swift ferocious stare from Leran, but didn’t truly back down. Slowly a circle began to form around them, one that had to be dispersed. Chairs had been provided for those Leran correctly guessed were the leaders of this little expedition as they sat around a small, dull fire.
“And the humans,” Leran’s eyes fell on Kal. “And Beast-kin too. Humans and Beast-kin working together…”
“Leran, we can get your people to safety, away from this place.” Anton leant forward, the chair creaking underneath his weight. “But could you tell me why you haven’t taken the ships and left? I’m sure the other clans would forgive you for having some ships, which you aren’t supposed to have.”
“Right before they throw them back into the front.” Verona quietly mused.
“Not any longer at least.”
“Those ships.” Leran drank deeply from a flask on his hip. “Can hold probably hold a thousand, maybe two, safely. And we had about seven or eight thousand.”
Leran chuckled. “I don’t think it’s hard to understand why we couldn’t. So we did nothing, the days passed as we bickered amongst ourselves. Then the Goblins started attacking. Hard. And I’m not going to leave anyone behind. I may be a pirate but I’m not cowardly.”
“And with the numbers you have right now?” Anton asked.
Leran sipped his flask again. “We don’t have the supplies to make the journey out of The Shadow Isles to the Mycean City states. At first we definitely didn’t but, well, as we started losing people our supplies began to last longer and longer…But no one will accept our ships. Not the Myceans, the Bebbezarians or the Holy Kingsland…They know we’re pirates and they’ll think the women and children are hostages, no matter what we say. Pirate hide-outs won’t take us either. Too many and they’ve got nothing to gain. We don’t have anywhere to go.”
“And they’ll hang us after docking,” Cagec added. “I hear Dark Elves sell well in Seocuria.”
The last statement was largely directed at Kal.
“I…wouldn’t know.” Kal smiled faintly. “But probably in the tens to hundreds of gold coins for the women, the younger the higher.”
The Dark Elves shuddered at the prospect.
“We have a way to get every one of your surviving clan members out of here and to safety.” Anton patted the portal stone bag. “You don’t even need to leave this fortress.”
“Where?” Leran laughed. “No one will take us. Even the most generous clan can’t take in all of us, especially during a war.”
Leran’s laugh was cut short by a ragged and spluttering cough. The sounds emanating from his chest, as he desperately tried to recover his breath, were painful and thick. Cagec tried to comfort him but was waved away by a defiant Leran, he wasn’t about to let someone help him. Defiant to the end.
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Anton stood up and approached him. The Green Moon warriors drew their weapons but Leran waved them away.
“And what do you want to do, human? Pity an old man who can barely breathe? Whose waking moments are coughing up blood and green bile?”
“Sounds like you have a nasty infection.”
Leran smiled. “Past twenty…I’ve had it for longer than you’ve probably been alive.”
“Let me try something.”
Anton held Leran’s knee. He received only looks of derision, and one of surprise from Leran, as he chanted a healing prayer. Leran gasped, prompting the Green Moon warriors to leap to his defence, but he glared them into submission with just his gaze. An unsteady hand held his chest.
“I feel better than I have in most of my life.” Leran frowned. “How much magic did you just use, human?”
“Not insignificant.” Anton returned to his seat. “Your infection was quite severe. It’s a miracle that you were still standing.”
“I don’t have time to be sick or wallowing in pain and misery. I leave that for weak women.”
“As I was saying, we can easily rescue every one of your clansmen and get them to safety. It might not be easy but it’s certainly better than dying in this place.”
“Unless you can convince the clans to actually help us we’re probably better off here.”
“Actually…” Anton looked to Ceccitol. “Ceccitol. The original agreement was only the people from your clan and anyone else that I can convince, correct?”
“Yes…”
“Hurray.” Verona cheered softly, only to looks of confusion from the Green Moon.
“I have a city. And this city needs people that are willing to live, work and defend it. I don’t know how important the pirate life…style is to your clan but, if you are willing to live within our laws, I can offer you safety and a place to call home.”
Leran leant back into his chair. He thoroughly scanned the other leaders sitting next to him.
“Seems like out of the people here I’m the last Pirate Lord. I think the days of pirating are over, they’ve been on the way down for a long time anyway.”
“But-”
Leran stared the Dark Elf down. “Don’t you give me lip. If it weren’t for me and my son, risking our lives and half of our fleet, which I should remind you that is but a fraction of what it once was, to save your sorry ass from those Mycean escorts you’d be swinging from the gallows.”
Leran grabbed his own neck. “They had you surrounded and I could see the rope gripping tight around your neck. No, the days of pirating are over. That was our last good haul anyway. It’s not profitable to raid a few small ships anymore. At least, for now.”
The leaders fell silent, even Cagec.
“Are you willing to live an honest life from here on? I won’t accept any form of criminality or thievery in my city. If you do you’ll be treated just like anyone else, regardless of your race.”
Leran rubbed his chin. “Perhaps we can arrange something. Perhaps. But there are many people that are wounded and can barely move.”
“Kal and I can heal them. Not completely but enough so they can hobble through.”
Leran nodded. “Anton, was it? I want you to come with me. I want to show you something.”
Verona, Kal and Cetina were hesitant to let him go but Anton told them it was fine. He could probably deal with whatever they could throw at him, not that he expected them to actually attack him. What could they possibly gain?
Leran patted his son’s shoulder. “Get everyone ready to evacuate.”
“What about the ships?”
“The door’s broken, so we’ll have to smash it open.” Leran shrugged. “Unless someone can figure out the latch mechanism. We didn’t build it, doesn’t even look like the Dwarves made it.”
“I could try something.” Verona offered. “My blood can do some pretty interesting things. It’s worth a shot.”
“I haven’t seen a Blood Berserker in some time.” Leran mused. “Not since that incident off the Seocurian coast.”
“Where are the most heavily wounded?” Kal asked. “I can heal them just like Anton.”
“Cagec, that’s on you.” Leran patted down his clothes. “And make sure you take some of your warriors with you. Some might take a fancy to the pretty Beast-kin, if you understand my meaning.”
“I’ll go with her.” Cetina tapped her sword.
“Don’t hesitate to give them a punch if they get too close.” Leran laughed. “Pirates tend to not behave themselves when they’re on land. Sea’s a different matter. They can always swim if they don’t like what I have to say.”
Verona and Kal gave Anton a light hug before separating with almost all of their Dark Elf escorts. That left Ceccitol and Tuccac with him.
Leran groaned as he stood upright. “Now, Anton, there is something I would like to discuss with you. But not here. Would you join me at the top of the fortress?”
“Is there a reason why you can’t discuss it here?”
Leran smiled. “I’m an old man, I don’t think that I’ll live long enough to see The Shadow Isles again. I’d like to see it one last time, even though it’s over-run by Goblins. You can bring those two Dark Elves if you wish. Their presence will not offend me.”
“I’ll be fine.” Anton summoned a small Lightning Crow. “This little guy will keep me safe.”
---[]---
Anton and Leran stood at the highest point of the fortress, giving them a clear and unobstructed view for miles in every direction. Annoyingly he could only see the signs of a Goblin occupation; ruined buildings, hundreds of small huts and fires raged throughout the forests while large groups roamed from camp to camp, growing before splitting again seemingly at random. Anton’s two Lightning Crows continued to rain down death upon the Goblins, driving them back into cover. Many were attempting to breach the central section of the fortress but the piles of dead bodies, arrows peppering their hides, demonstrated their successes were limited.
“You’ve done an incredible job holding things together,” Anton said. “With so few defenders compared to the Goblins.”
“They were attacking extremely hard until a few days ago.” Leran looked over the ruined fortress. “Relentless little creatures. Without rest they threw themselves against the walls. Each of them that died took their toll on us, every death was a tiny nick and cut. They were grinding us down to pulp.”
“A few days ago we attacked the Goblin lines and pushed it forward, only a bit though.”
“Good.” Leran smiled. “About time someone did.”
Leran stretched out his arms. “I’m going to miss this place. So many good stories and tales to tell, adventures and plunder.”
Anton looked out into the forests. He didn’t want to encourage criminal activity, it would only be a detriment to Atros in the future, but didn’t want to leave the conversation hanging.
“There will still be new stories to tell.” Anton chuckled. “Maybe lacking the spoils but certainly not lacking any of the bravery. The lands are still infested with Goblins and other beasts and monsters, nowhere near as bad as this place.”
“So stupid that we stayed on this island so long. Just watching the rest of the world fly by.” Leran leant against the wall. “All because of what your human Empire did to us, all that time ago.”
“We aren’t like that.”
“Ha. They all say that.” Leran looked back out. “Every one of them. So how can I trust you?”
“You’ve already agreed to evacuate with us.”
“I can change that at a moment’s notice and no one will leave. They trust me. So, I’ll ask again, why should I trust you?”
Anton held his chin. “I honestly can’t prove to you right now that I’m genuine. I could give you promises but I’m sure that you know that words can be hollow things. Breakable to further agendas. I will allow you to keep your weapons and gear, though your food will need to be pooled with the rest of the city. I can’t guarantee that you’ll be completely safe from harm or that things will be easy. But it’ll definitely be better than the treatment you’ll receive in The Shadow Isles. And certainly better than this.”
Leran studied Anton, his eyes raked over his body. “At least you have a shred of honesty. If you’d started rambling how great everything was in this city of yours I would have said no.”
Would you have tried to throw me from the balcony? It’s a very long way down.
The Large Lightning Crows flew close to the balcony. One looked to Anton but didn’t stop its mission. The two flew very close and raked an exposed group of Goblins with lightning. Leran laughed as he watched them run.
“Run you little bastards!”
“How much do you have in the way of weapons and armour?” Anton asked, directing the small Lightning Crow to join their fellows. Leran stopped laughing, but he was clearly thoroughly entertained watching them die. “We need everything we can get for Atros. The crate from the Frindal Emirate is a good start.”
“We have some,” Leran said. “Will that be adequate compensation for evacuating us?”
“For a pirate, you are quite willing to pay us.”
“You’ve never been a pirate then, have you?”
“I’d like to think I’m not a criminal.”
Leran laughed, waving Anton down. “That’s a problem. If a pirate were caught trying to short change another they’d be pissed. And that’s a great way to get killed. Better to be generous with people that are about to save your lives. So they’ll return the favour.”
“We’ll take those weapons then, the ones that aren’t yours. Jeff will be pleased to receive better gear.” Anton smiled. “I’ve been getting a few good gifts of late too.”
Leran rested his rear against the railing. “I wonder…Which of those three are you fucking?”
Anton coughed at the direct nature of his question. Leran tilted his head and frowned.
“I-”
“Grandfather!” A sweet voice came from behind the door.
Two young Dark Elf women approached, wearing a light set of armour but without a bow on their backs. Unlike Ceccitol’s daughters these were clearly adult, though considering the longer lifespan of the Dark Elves they were probably older than him. Both held had the same sharp-featured faces endemic to most of the Dark Elves along with smooth and flawless skin, full lips and deep brown eyes. Their cloaks and armour hid their forms but Anton saw how they moved, underneath they hid a slim and toned body. However their hair was slightly wavy rather than perfectly straight. They were clearly twins, the only exception was the tiny mole underneath their eyes.
“Why aren’t you two helping with the evacuation?” Leran moved against the wall, his leathery face frowning lightly. “We need to move everything into the central dock. So why are you here?”
“We wanted to make sure this was real.” The girl on the left said.
“Why would you doubt me?”
“Because you’re old.” The second’s voice was almost identical. Both smiled as Leran grew more irritated. “And you’re acting more silly than usual.”
“Not that anyone actually thought what you said was odd.”
“Indeed.”
“Little brats.” Leran lightly slapped their heads. Both held their heads, cutely pouting. “These two little scoundrels are my granddaughters, Calo and Sheso.”
The twins bowed, Anton wasn’t sure which was which, his confusion was readily picked up by the twins. Both giggled mischievously.
“They’re almost impossible to tell apart,” Leran grumbled. “Thankfully they always move together so it’s not so bad. I just speak to both at once, saves confusing me.”
“I am Calo.” The one with the mole beneath her right eye bowed her head. “And she is Sheso.”
“A pleasure to meet you. Are you Cagec’s children?”
“No.” Calo smiled. “Our mother, Merro, is Leran’s daughter. She was in one of the southern Islands when the Goblins began attacking.”
“The one to the right of the DuskReavers,” Leran said softly. “Night Stalkers. No idea if she’s still there.”
“Our father died during the initial attack.” Sheso continued, picking up almost exactly where her sister had let off. “But we didn’t see much of him before the Goblins started attacking.”
“I am sorry for your loss.” Anton bowed his head.
Calo and Sheso held themselves together but were not doing well. However, Anton had been taught by Verona and Kal, mainly Verona, not to take the tears of women as always honest. They were undoubtedly sad but there was a mischievousness behind it. Was that even appropriate?
“At the end, he turned out alright.” Leran glanced between the two. “Before the war, these two were being trained in how to fight with swords and daggers, they were about to start using bows but…Hmm…and, since they’re women, they know how to manage a home…Would that be of any use to you?”
This sounds like something Verona would be involved with.
“Perhaps.” Anton shrugged lightly, not wanting to make a decision right away. “We are often away from home and have little time to take care of it or the garden. That we’re planning to build.”
Even less time if we move into that monstrosity the Dwarves are building.
“But I’m not inherently opposed to it.” Anton smiled. “Knowing how to handle yourselves in a fight is extremely useful. An intruder wouldn’t expect that.”
“We were about to learn how to use the bow before this happened.” Sheso sighed.
“It would have been fun to learn from mother.” Calo mimicked her sister. “She was supposed to come back after winter. I’m actually glad she didn’t.”
Leran nodded glumly, a crestfallen face looked outside.
When they get to Atros how are they going to cope? The Beast-kin suffered after we stopped, and had time to think about the implications of freedom. But they hadn’t lost nearly everyone.
“The hell is that?” Leran said.
Anton moved the balcony, Calo and Sheso stood in-between. The fires from the Goblins, from every camp and ruined city, were drawing closer.
“I’ll summon another.”
Four small Lightning Crows erupted into being, one after the other, and flew out, joining the other Lightning Crows trying to hold back the Goblins. For some reason they had redoubled their efforts to breach the defences. The twins looked at him in awe.
“That’s insane.” Calo squealed. “I’ve never seen magic like that before. And so easy too. Can you teach us to do that?”
“Please!” Sheso held his arm. “Please!”
“I’m no teacher.” Anton smiled. “But do you have books on Principle Magic? I remember you saying you did have some mages before.”
“Almost everything of value is still out there,” Leran grumbled. “Gold and silver aren’t worth a thing when there’s nothing to spend it on.”
“Well…”
Anton saw something odd moving through the Goblin hordes, the flames began to part around a single point. With his eye enhancement he saw two strange Goblins; a giant Black and a Red with a diminutive and gamy arm.
“They’re back,” Anton grumbled. “Looks like they’re trying to get rid of anything that could threaten them in the rear. Hardly a mindless horde.”
“We’re hardly a threat.” Leran squinted his eyes, trying his best to follow Anton’s line of sight. “We’re stuck in our fortress. What could we possibly do?”
“Every Goblin that wanders around here, and gets killed by your people, is one more they can’t throw into battle. And with the Mainland Clans finally reinforcing the front they need everyone they can get.” Anton clicked his tongue. “We need to get out of here quickly.”
“You still haven’t told us how you intend to get us out of here,” Leran grumbled. He looked down to witness a surge of Goblins, almost a hundred, get dangerously close to a section of inner fortress. All fell, riddled with dozens of black arrows. “They’re getting damn close. Looks like almost everyone’s pulled back to the inner dock.”
“How are you going to evacuate us?” Calo asked.
“The ships are stuck,” Sheso added. “And they don’t have the room to take everyone and the weapons and armour you want.”
“You weren’t here for that part,” Anton said.
The twins looked sheepishly at each other. Leran sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose.
“If you two continue to sneak around, and snoop on things you aren’t supposed to, you could end up dead. Or worse.”
“But we’re just following what we were taught.” Sheso pouted. “You can’t blame us for actually listening to what we were taught.”
“So how are you going to get everyone out of here?” Calo tilted her head.
---[]---
The dock bristled with activity, flashes of white erupted from the centre as the DuskReaver warriors directed the Green Moon through the portal. Unfortunately, stretchers couldn’t be used, the possibility of a bearer teleporting first was simply too great, so they had to be healed to the point where they could move under their own strength. That alone took considerable effort and strain on Kal, she was quite tired when they returned but she looked very happy.
“I’ve healed everyone’s that’s mortally sick.” Kal coughed as she rose up, her legs were a little shaky but after a quick pat they were fine. “Everyone else is going to have to hobble through.”
“Through that?” Leran asked.
A woman tried her best to direct the throng of children through the portal. They held their fingers to their lips, biting down and swaying slightly, too nervous to make the first step. To be fair the woman looked just as nervous. The portal flashed again and a warrior stepped through. After speaking a few words he convinced the children that it was safe. As they stepped through the woman sighed with relief and turned to help the others.
“Six hundred have already passed through.” Cagec trotted towards them. “Father, it looks like we’re somewhere in Bebbezzar.”
“You’ll get used to the light level soon enough,” Anton said. “It’s really not that bad.”
“How bright is it?” Calo asked. “Is it like a reading room?”
“Who are these two?” Kal asked, her face slightly flat. Her eyes flashed over their bodies then snapped to Anton, she held the same look as when Verona was scheming something.
“These-”
Leran’s explanation was cut short by a tremendous crash coming from the wooden gates of the inner dock. Verona’s blood shards crashed into the water, followed by a few small pieces of metal. The red glowing form of Verona gesticulated angrily at the gate. A few pieces of metal and wood have been torn loose but nothing substantial.
Leran chuckled. “Whoever built this place, they did a tremendous job.”
“I thought some of the things looked a little Dwarvish.” Anton mused. “It’s just the way the metal and stone has been cut.”
“Could be. I haven’t seen much Dwarvish metal. Well, not like this at any rate.” Leran shrugged. “But we don’t know how to fix the darn thing. We didn’t even know it was broken until a few days ago. Not much need to go out until-”
Another crash interrupted Leran, but this was not from Verona. She looked away from the dock with a great frown on her face. The crashing had come from deep within the fortress, from ground level. A large group of Green Moon Clan warriors, covered in dust and suffering a coughing fit, jumped out of a corridor, followed by a great plume of dust.
“Leran! They’ve broken through the outer walls. I’ve never seen so many of them.”
“Those two really want you dead.” Anton mused. “Did they just destroy part of the fortress?”
“No. Whoever built this place wanted to piss off any attacker. We’ve just collapsed every tunnel we can.” The Green Moon warrior coughed up more dust. “But there are still a few places they can get in.”
Kal downed a mana vial and readied her bow. “There are still a lot of sick people to get through the portal. And they can only move so fast. We can’t just throw them through…”
“And we still need to return to our ship,” Cetina added. “The Sky Clearers won’t like leaving it here.”
“Barricade all of the entrances to the inner dock!” Leran ordered. Despite being pirates they obeyed without question. “Use whatever we have. Send everyone that can’t fight through the portal, we’ll deal with these little rodents.”
Leran looked too old to properly wield a bow, but he still had his cane. He violently twisted the end, the wood clicked and he drew a long, thin green blade. After a grunt, he readied himself as best he could.
“Is that something else your clan managed to find?” Anton asked. “Something that’s fallen overboard?”
Leran laughed. “This actually was a gift. A proper gift. Though most people consider pirates nothing more than problems they are great problem solvers…And some people really, really want to keep them on their good side.”
“Otherwise they could spill secrets.” Sheso winked cutely at Anton.
Kal and Cetina’s faces drew flat again.
The few entrances were quickly boarded up while Anton hurried to Verona’s side, everyone else continued the evacuation as best they could. The Lightning Crows continued to do their work, striking at the horde outside, but Anton knew that it wasn’t enough. Through the connection, he could tell where they were and roughly their targets; they were very quickly reaching the outer wall and there were many, many more Goblins to come.
“Damn thing’s unbreakable,” Verona grumbled at Anton. Ceccitol and Tuccac stood next to her, for security reasons, and looked at the great metal mechanisms of the door. Their intricacies were beyond Anton, though he reasoned this was far, far too advanced for something like protecting a hidden dock.
“Do you want to have a go?” Verona quickly hugged his arm. “I’m getting nowhere. And it sounds like we’re about to have a few thousand little guests pouring into this place.”
“Absolutely.” Anton summoned a fire Octahedron. “I know the Green Moon Clan isn’t going to like me destroying their fortress…”
Anton threw a Fire Octahedron at the door. It exploded in a shower of sparks, far more energetic than normal. When the flames cleared, their attention was mainly focused on the few stray embers that reached the ships, the wooden door was all but untouched. Verona glanced up at Anton, a silver brow raised. Anton threw a lightning and fire lance with similar results. The wooden gate, despite some small burn marks, was essentially untouched.
“Wards.” Anton mused. “Principle Magic wards. Probably layered into the wood.”
“I wasn’t attacking the wood, just the metal.” Verona groaned. “Looks like the ships are staying here then.”
“You can’t just put them through the portal?” Tuccac asked, only somewhat jokingly.
“If you can get it out of the water and somewhere safe to put it in Atros, I honestly don’t know. Maybe? But we’ll just have to come back for these things.” Anton brought out a small Strohierite stone. “Leave a few of these guys here to keep the Goblins off them. For a time at least.”
Anton focused his attention upwards. The Lightning Crows were working as hard as they could but they were now shooting their lightning at the fortress walls.
“We don’t have long.”
“Can’t kill those two Goblins?” Verona asked as they moved back to Kal and Cetina.
“They’re hanging back.” Anton shook his head. “A couple of miles back. I don’t think there’s much for them to do apart from just point the horde in the right direction.”
“Shame.” Verona shrugged. “Would have like to kill them. I get the feeling the Goblins will collapse when that Red is gone.”
Anton stopped. A memory came back, one from the first month in this world. Verona immediately knew something was wrong and held his hand.
“Mount Aspire. The Goblins killed one that was born deformed. So why not this one? Beyond it just being a Red.”
“Maybe that’s enough.” Verona looked to the walls. It sounded like something was scuttling along the ground towards them, muffled by the wooden barricades. The Dark Elves took notice and began to ready themselves. “We’ve only seen four, I think, so far. Most people didn’t know about anything higher than the Yellows, like all the Dark Elves. Somehow.”
The portal continued to flash white as more and more Green Moon Elves stepped through. The warriors were doing their best but it was still taking some time. Time they were rapidly running out of.
“Please tell me this is everyone,” Anton said to Leran and Cagec. “I’m not going through this fortress just to find one idiot cowering in a corner.”
“If they didn’t come here then they’re definitely an idiot.” Leran shifted on his Bosciycium cane sword. “But I’m sure this is everyone.”
Anton caught a glint of metal from the Twins. They held two small swords tight in their shaking hands.
“You two should really go through the portal.” Anton received confused looks. “For your own safety.”
“Even though we are young we are still warriors,” Calo stated adamantly.
“And we will fight to see our people safe.” Sheso smiled. “But thank you for your concern about us. Didn’t think Humans would care about Dark Elves.”
“That’s what the stories said.” Calo shrugged.
“This one appears to be strange.” Leran laughed. “Human’s and Beast-kin definitely don’t normally get along.”
“Is that what she is?” Calo and Sheso studied Kal and her bow. “I like her hair.”
Kal frowned and ran a hand through her shoulder-length aqua hair. Anton scratched her ears, Kal playfully pulled away but retained a smile. Verona flicked her silver hair to garner their attention but the Dark Elves were too unsettled by her red glow to admire her silver hair, though the twins spared a longer look.
The barricades began to shudder, the sounds of screeching and claws ripping at wood filled the air.
“That’s all the wounded,” Cagec said loudly. “Now it’s just the warriors and the supplies. We still haven’t got a lot of that through yet.”
“Keep moving then,” Leran grumbled. “We don’t have all day.”
A green hand burst through the wooden barricade, quickly sliced off by a Dark Elf warrior. The Green Goblin screeched and recoiled, the bloody stump harshly dragged back through only to be replaced by another yellow. The warrior appeared more than a little confused but swung down again.
“It’ll be a shame to let this place go.” Leran shifted his weight again.
Wooden splinters forced the Green Moon warrior back. Even more hands burst through, ripping and clawing at anything their rotten little claws could find purchase. A head, filled with their frenzied rage, popped through, quickly felled by a black arrow but followed by more and more squirming and writhing Goblins.
The barricade collapsed in a mighty surge of angry flesh. A volley blunted the initial charge but those behind simply continued pushing their dead fellows forward, trampling them to nothing. A fire Octahedron destroyed the charge in a burst of light and roasting flesh but behind them, a steady stream continued to pour out.
“Are you going to collapse the roof again?” Verona asked, directing her blood shards at the horde.
“Might bring down everything around us,” Anton said. He picked up a small stone at his feet. “But that’s basically the plan this time.”
Verona laughed. “You and your stones.”
Verona’s magic was more than enough to shred the incoming Goblins but that was causing severe problems for Anton. With every slain his tail tingled, their deaths fuelled the strange magic from the White Realm. It had been growing ever since arriving on their island but it was negligible. Now almost a quarter tingled and pulsed with the charge.
Anton drew everything he could and began to create the Marble Spear again. The Dark Elves stopped, Leran swiftly reprimanded them and returned to watching the crumbling barricades.
“What sort of magic is that?” Leran asked.
“You’ve never seen this before?” Anton planted the butt onto the ground.
“Never…And I’ve seen just about everything in my travels. So you aren’t just some Glyph Mage then. So where did you learn that?”
“That’s a very good question.”
Calo and Sheso looked confused at one another then to their grandfather. He shrugged and let it go.
Anton almost relinquished his hold on the spear when something told him to stop. Surely this style of magic was useful in some way, he just needed to try and actually kill something with it. The only problem was that it was still a spear and he didn’t want to get close to the Goblins. Only during the opening days in Atros had he been close to those wretched things.
“Another one!”
A barricade near the wooden gate broke, followed by another surge of Goblins. Some careened across the dock and splashed into the water, pushed on by the mindless horde behind, but many veered towards them.
“I want to see if this does something.” Anton readied the spear to throw like a javelin.
“I think there are more important things right now.” Verona chuckled nervously.
“Not if it reaches my spine.”
Anton threw the spear with all the strength he could muster. Immediately the spear began to crack and leak the black lightning but retained its form as it collided with the leading edge. The spear cleaved through the Goblins like they were wet paper. That alone was good enough as a weapon since the amount gained from killing the Goblins was nowhere near the loss from the spear. However the horde completely stopped, not even Verona’s blood shards had managed that. A Goblin staggered to the front with the tip of the spear stuck in its chest, jutting out almost an inch. Unlike the rest of the spear, it refused to disintegrate into thousands of tiny white cubes. The skin around the wound transformed to a marble white, lines of black lightning radiating out until it covered the Goblin. Its posture and demeanour changed to a more regal and almost noble bearing.
Just like the Doll in the White Realm.
Though the spear had disintegrated Anton felt something from the Goblin, just like the Lightning summons still flying above the fortress. Unlike theirs, it was far more substantial and held a suggestion of an emotion. It wanted orders.
“Kill all the Goblins!” Anton yelled. Those nearby were confused until they saw the White Goblin.
The White Goblin responded, turning its longer and no longer rotten claws upon the surrounding Greens and Yellows. At first, the other Goblins recoiled in an attempt to avoid the strikes with far more effort than he would expect. Though the White Goblin didn’t land a lethal blow it did manage a few scratches. These scratches rapidly began to transform the Goblins just like the first, lines of black lightning radiating out of the wound.
“Grekka!” The Goblin’s screech echoed throughout the dock.
As one they turned on the White Goblin and those still transforming and tore them to shreds. Though some of the attackers began to turn there were simply too many, when the White Goblin’s head was torn off Anton felt the thought tether vanish. The White Goblin was angry but only so far in that it had failed in its mission.
“Fascinating.” Anton threw a Fire Lance into the horde. The small explosion threw away the Yellow and Green Goblins attacking the White’s corpse; though clearly dead it retained the white marble skin alongside the those that only begun their transformation.
“What did you do?” Calo asked, pulling on his hand.
“Please don’t just touch someone like that in a fight.” Anton patted her head. “Especially if it’s someone you don’t know and they aren’t expecting it. You might end up getting hit by accident.”
“Right. Sorry.” She and her sister turned their attention to the battle.
The lines, such as they began to contract slowly as the last of the Green Moon Dark Elves evacuated through the portal. With each fallen barricade a surge of Goblins poured out followed by a small but constant trickle. Anton repeated the attack with the marble spear with the same results. Even with the smaller constant trickled of Goblins the White Goblins were unable to grow more than a few in number before being set upon by the horde. While it was frustrating to not understand what was truly happening, the mere fact it greatly slowed their assault was more than enough.
“There’s only us left now.” Anton downed a mana vial. “Time for us to go too.”
Almost all of the Green Moon Clan had evacuated, leaving forty odd people still within the fortress. The Goblins continued their assault but they could hold them back. For now, at least, their numbers were seemingly without end. Their corpses began to pile up and give the Goblins a fleshy albeit slippery platform to launch themselves from, bringing the battle ever closer.
“Won’t they just follow?” Cagec asked. “The city I went to didn’t seem like it was strong enough to fend these off.”
“We’ll head back to the outside dock and take the Sky Clearers ship out to sea.” Anton recovered the portal stones. “We’ll come back for your ships one day.”
“Damn shame,” Leran grumbled.
“Kal? How much mana do you have left?”
“Well over half.”
“I’m starting to run a bit low. Can you make another smoke stone? Set it for a few days this time.”
Kal held the stone tight in her hands and spoke the prayer. Thick black swirls of smoke leaked through her fingers, Kal began spluttering after just a single whiff. She threw it into the horde. The Goblins clawed and scratched at the stone but quickly succumbed to the suffocating smoke.
“Let’s go!”
Anton cleared the hordes behind them and motioned for Cagec to lead the way. Slowly they began their retreat along the dock, fleeing not only the Goblins but the thick smoke that quickly filled the dock. Verona took the front, the ideal position for her power, and scraped the corridors clear of any Goblin, smashing and reforming the blood crystals against the solid walls. Some Goblins tried their luck, throwing themselves into the field of hardened blood with a strange deranged smile, probably due to the influence of the Reds. They didn’t last long.
“Are you a Wind Mage?” Calo asked Kal as they ran along the narrow corridor. “I didn’t know they could heal.”
“No. I use Tethra’s power.” Kal smiled. “She gifted me-Look out.”
A stone-tipped spear, gripped tight in a pair of gnarled yellow hands, thrust out of the darkness of a narrow corridor, catching Calo in the shoulder. She screamed, stumbled and gripped at the wooden shaft. Fear drenched her face as even more clawed hands reached out for her.
Anton threw a small flame bomb at the lead Goblin, showering the rest in sparks and illuminating the corridor to be filled with Goblins. He pulled on her collar hard, ripping the spear tip free and throwing her to her sister. With a wave of flame incinerating the remaining Goblins Anton turned his attention to Calo. Her hand clutched tight onto the wound, already her body was shaking as a thin but growing sheen of sweat covered her face. Anton said nothing and healed her. With the shakes gone she released her hand. She tried to say something but Anton pushed her forward. There would be time later to talk.
---[]---
Anton looked back to the Green Moon Fortress, great plumes of smoke erupting from every window, as they sailed out of the dock. While it was disappointing to leave the Green Moon Clan ships inside they simply didn’t have the time. There was every chance that the water could teleport alongside the ships, and the door probably wasn’t perfectly sealed. A way to drain the ocean?
“Two thousand more Dark Elves will greatly raise morale.” Ceccitol leant against the rear railing next to Anton. “Even if they are from the Green Moon, it’ll raise hope that others might have survived.”
Anton grimaced. “I think we both know this was a fluke. The Green Moon, a clan of pirates, who are used to unfavourable odds, barely managed to hold on. And that was only thanks to this fortress. I doubt there’s anyone left alive. Well, uncaptured at least.”
Ceccitol tapped the railing. “But we should still hope. Perhaps someone’s living in a cave somewhere, away from them.”
“Kal spent most of her life in the wilderness without being caught, so it’s not impossible.”
Just incredibly unlikely. With the numbers we’ve seen they would have scoured the land. Just by sheer numbers they would have found all but the most devious of hiding places. Doubly so with those two leading this horde. Clever bastards knew to stay out of range.
“And what about feeding the Green Moon?” Ceccitol chuckled. “Atros wasn’t that big when we left.”
“We’ll work it out.” Anton looked to the few Green Moon Dark Elves currently on board their ship, specifically Leran and his immediate family. “Something tells me they’re not going to be up for much fighting for a while. The next few days will probably be spent sleeping. And hopefully not drinking.”
“Knowing their wounded are safe will do much more than that.” Tuccac hugged his wife from behind, both shared a tender kiss. Anton was glad he didn’t interrupt their happy relationship.
“For the next little while I’ll have them helping Atros while they settle in.”
Verona, Kal and Cetina approached, all looked moderately exhausted from the fight. Anton took Verona and Kal into his arms and patted Cetina’s shoulder.
“Tomorrow morning Belinda reaches the Black Riders Fortress,” Anton said. “We’re going to have to split again.”
“If only they’d waited until the spring.” Verona sighed. “Either way, we’d have done a lot more for you guys. Maybe we wouldn’t have needed to do that thing…”
Kal grumbled lightly. “Apparently they’ve been talking to the guards but no one has been listening. At least that’s what Jeff’s said.”
“What’s going to happen to them?” Tuccac asked. “If they get back here…”
Anton said nothing. The implication was clear. If a smooth transition to whatever Gerin was planning was possible they'd be long gone. Probably one of the most heartless things Anton had done, so far at least.
Verona chuckled. “They won’t get out. Now…” Verona pulled down on his collar hard. “Explain to us what you’re doing merrily running around with two cute little Dark Elves, batting their eyelashes at your every word?”