Portal by ChrisCold on DeviantArt [https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/0052d15d-4c44-4d0f-aade-45074bff0633/d2d983i-362cb680-0dbe-411b-8450-40e743ae1f6c.jpg/v1/fill/w_1024,h_615,q_75,strp/portal_by_chriscold_d2d983i-fullview.jpg?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOjdlMGQxODg5ODIyNjQzNzNhNWYwZDQxNWVhMGQyNmUwIiwiaXNzIjoidXJuOmFwcDo3ZTBkMTg4OTgyMjY0MzczYTVmMGQ0MTVlYTBkMjZlMCIsIm9iaiI6W1t7ImhlaWdodCI6Ijw9NjE1IiwicGF0aCI6IlwvZlwvMDA1MmQxNWQtNGM0NC00ZDBmLWFhZGUtNDUwNzRiZmYwNjMzXC9kMmQ5ODNpLTM2MmNiNjgwLTBkYmUtNDExYi04NDUwLTQwZTc0M2FlMWY2Yy5qcGciLCJ3aWR0aCI6Ijw9MTAyNCJ9XV0sImF1ZCI6WyJ1cm46c2VydmljZTppbWFnZS5vcGVyYXRpb25zIl19.1I2XXHjGjAaP7FGhyEYTLwAg9TArPg42vINPrB4gyFo]
https://www.deviantart.com/chriscold/art/Portal-143197758
In that instant, time seemed to slow down. He could see Yorin and his orc brothers draw their own great black blades with cries of rage, meeting white hot steel in flashes of lightning. Could see the anger on Light Storm’s face as he fought one on one. Saw the onrushing thunder of steel as minotaur warriors pounded towards him. Felt the edge of Iron-Heart’s greatsword tear through his belly, before he cried out, “no!”
But by then it was too late with one of his demon blades dead right beside him, the orc’s chest plate split open to spill out his insides, while Light Storm backed away, his arm badly wounded. It was at that moment that Drakas realized that he had failed.
Mace flickering into his arms to counter a second attack from the enraged minotaur, he hammered a powerful fist into the side of the minotaur’s head, breaking a horn clean off, and knocking the bastard onto his backside.
He then turned slightly to survey the charging minotaurs, and felt a cold dread enter his spine, the air rife with furious cries, frothing mouths, drums beating in unison, and the hundreds of banners that flew above a glittering army of silver.
Crying out in savage fury as Yorin downed one of the golden armored Honor Blade in a large spray of blood, the battle hardened orc immediately grabbed Drakas by the shoulder. “We must leave, my lord!”
It was then that he realized that he had frozen, and gazed down at the wounded and dazed Iron-Heart who still struggled to get back up to feet. A small part of him wished that he could put his mace through the bastard’s skull. Wanted to blame him for everything that had gone wrong this day. Felt the urge as he tightened his hold on the shaft of his mace, before he forced himself to turn away, and run back to the city’s wall.
His first thought as they galloped across the field was that he had failed. Failed to keep his people safe, when he heard the scream of barked commands, felt the world rumble underneath his feet, and felt arrows whiz through the air past him. Yorin and his fellow demon blade who guarded Drakas back, struck down by half a dozen shafts that sent them tumbling into the soil, when he felt something slam into his side.
Breathless as he hit a stone outcropping, he quickly halted his fall with a desperate lunge for the rock, used it to support his weight, and pushed off again, his body on fire as more arrows whizzed through the air behind him, a part of him also beginning a silent prayer for Shureen. That she would forgive him for leaving her on her own, when bits of masonry, and arrows flew out over the city walls in great volleys that exploded like lightning all around him. His one glance over his shoulder, revealing the Honor Blades forces in complete disarray.
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But Drakas knew that would not last long as he barreled straight through the gap in the gates, and was amazed at sight of empty streets, alleyways, the gates banging shut behind him. As he looked all around him to what was left of his remaining forces, a few companies of demon blades in polished black armor, blue skinned giants that formed a line to toss debris over the walls, and goblin archers that knocked and fired in waves. Shureen, the first to greet him, all but throwing herself into his arms, her green eyes wet with tears. “I’m so sorry, Drakas, I never meant to put you in harm’s way. I only wanted…”
Kirgin, his golden eyes always moving around him, whispering, “It’s good to see you alive.” The words seemingly incongruous coming from the goblin, a race that had always been at war with his own people, the ogrekan.
Patting her on the shoulder, in what he hoped was a comforting manner, he replied, “Not your fault, Shuri. We did the right thing. I just wished that it had gone better. How many of our people have been left behind?”
Tears wiped from her cheek as she looked up at him, she shook her head sadly from side to side, her pale grey skin creased with worry. “I am so sorry, Drakas, but the tunnel collapsed. Most got away, but there is no where else for us to go.”
Worse still, he saw the goblins on the ramparts being forced to take cover behind crenelations as a withering hailstorm of arrows pinged off stone walls, and wondered how long they could last? How long before they all died here? Or were captured and paraded through the streets in chains like common animals? He had seen enough of this world to know that it was cruel, savage, and brutal. Knew it was a world shaped by monsters, and yet he had hoped it would not end this way for him. That he would see his Chosen, one last time. But as he stared up into the pale blue skies, he knew then that it had been a false hope. As false as the belief that he was free, when in actuality he knew he was still a slave. Knew that by calling on the demon for aid, he would forever be bound to it. It was a sad realization to know that everything he had done was for nothing. And yet as he laughed to himself, he knew that was not entirely true. He was still alive, Barkan was dead, and for now, his people at the least were free.
Feeling her concerned gaze upon him, he looked back down to Shureen, her eyelids sagging with weariness, and took her chin in his fingers, “do not worry, Shuri. All be well.”
But whether it was the way he spoke, or the strange way he acted, he felt her tremble in his hand. Sensed her growing fear, but before she could speak, he held out his arms. “I know this is what you’ve wanted all along, demon! For me to be at your mercy once again! So tell me, what do I do?! Tell me and I will do it!”
Voice rumbling with laughter at the back of his mind, the demon replied, “I was not sure that you would call upon me again. Perhaps I should have chosen a different Champion. One that would appreciate the gift I have bestowed upon them.”
Shoulders slumped as his head dropped to the ground, he whispered back, “Please, just help me.”
And heard the demon laugh again as though this were all a part of some grand game, “Very well, warrior, but know this. My patience is not unending. Speak the words, and I will see you away from here.”
But even as Drakas thought of finally leaving this accursed place behind, he forced himself to ask, “And those with me?”
Glowing red eyes flashing with rage, he thought the demon would strike him dead there as the voice growled, “you ask for much, for one who is replaceable, but I shall grant you this boon. Now speak the words!”
Horns blaring much closer now, arrows falling from the sky like rain, he could hear the death cries of his people on the walls. Could see in his mind’s eye the minotaur army surging up the ladders, and felt the ram thump against the gates with a thud that shook the ground.
Barely able to breathe, he cried out, “eatz otrange ohoz haeehat!"
Then like a great worldshaker a black hole materialized all around him, sucked him inside the whirling storm of darkness along with his friends, before he was falling through the air, falling through a thick bellow of black smoke, before he struck something hard. Then he dreamed...