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While back in his armour once more, Gauldryon seemed to ooze with confidence again, his shield blazing with hidden fires as he led his mounted party forward. "Let's go!" Gregor on one side, and Daria to the other, the pair of them looking across from each other as Tileya, Glindol, and Pelwar brought up the rear. The dwarf’s mace that now glowed with a magical blue energy, lit up their path through the darkness. Glindol, his fingers weaving in the air creating an illusion that made it seem like there were six groups of riders that rode through the cobblestone streets. Kindred, vampires, and black winged creatures alike, flashing in and out of the darkness around them. The tall grey buildings that loomed over their heads, releasing hisses of steam from it’s many bronze pipes as Gauldyron charged through the blackness, snow flying out from behind him. The eaves of the houses that they passed by, covered in icicles that glistened wetly in the brilliant white starlight. All the while Gregor could feel his heart pumping inside of his chest as he stared up at the darkened glass plate screen of windows, his neck hairs twitching behind him as he felt himself being watched. And a part of him knew instinctively that it would only be a matter of time before his work would begin. The horses' hooves that rang out the stone, beating a steady rhythmic note, before he heard an ear splitting shriek that echoed in the air. The creatures that streamed out on all fours from the windows, doorways, and crevices, mostly humans, dwarves, and elves that threw themselves forward through the air. Their wild shrieks of rage, broken suddenly by a huge burst of fireballs that leapt from Glindol’s palm, even as Pelwar whispered a prayer, and a barrier of light shone out around them. Blinding the night creatures and forcing them back into the shadows. The few brave kindred that were strong enough to withstand the flaming white glare, rushed forward to dash through the illusions with low throaty growls, their black fangs intended downward in snarls as they found nothing.
Gregor, who needed no excuse to use the spell scrolls, shoving the pieces of parchment into his mouth, before he felt energy pour into him, a part of himself terrified at what would happen once his own energy mixed with that of the scrolls. But as he felt his muscles expand outward, he let his concerns fly away, and without a word, he dropped down off Biter’s back. His galloping stride, easily outpacing the others as his greatsword swung forward in a blur to carve open bellies, crack open skulls, and with a roar of rage, he ripped several elven kindred apart. The magic of the scrolls imbuing him with both the strength and speed, he needed to kill these monsters as he sliced down one after the other. Their glowing yellow orbs, snarling at him with savage fury as the battle fever took over, and he butchered a huge orc warrior that had tried to claw him apart, before Gregor battered him to pieces, battling through groups of kindred that wore nothing but rags, their skin coated in dried flecks of blood as their black fangs tried to sink into him. His greatsword a mirage that flickered back and forth in his hands as he felt the spell scrolls begin to fade away.
Knowing he would be no match for so many on his own, he slowed down, took the reins of Biter from Glindol with a grateful nod of his head, and got back into the saddle. Gauldryon’s blade lighting up the darkness with blasts of white energy that sent the kindred that poured into the streets ahead of them scrambling. Gregor choosing to explode back into the lead with a quick squeeze of his knees, Biter stomping and biting kindred left and right as his greatsword spun in his hands killing anything that dared to try and harm his horse.
Gauldryon his armour glowing with magical energy, steamrolling forward with Daria and Tileya at his side. The pretty young elf, a whirl storm of fury as she threw daggers, and fired arrows that burst into flames. Daria, her warhammer slick with blood, plowing through enemies with her great big war horse even as Pelwar chanted prayers to his gods, his mace breaking skulls as he thanked the hammer gods.
It was to Gregor’s mind, the most glorious battle he had ever been a part of, a chaotic mess of blood, broken bodies trampled over, and the heavy stench of sulphur in the air, when they rounded a bend and saw the streets ahead of them clogged with kindred, squeezed shoulder to shoulder, their frenzied cries of rage filling the night sky as they charged forward, almost making Gregor wish he had come up with a better plan.
Stiffening himself as he readied himself to charge back into the thick of it, he had but a moment to think on his next plan of attack, before hundreds of warriors swept out from the streets and alleyways all around them, the recognizable black leather armour of the Wingdart Company, coming along the Ironclad company in their dented plate armour, the Wolf Clan in their rusted steel edged armour, the Mountain Blades, a group of huge big bellied warriors that wore nothing but loincloths, plus dozens of other guilds including the Swordcraft Guild with the twin swords on their breast pocket, and the Mage’s College with the five fingers. All of them lead by a big beefy minotaur warrior in a broken faced helmet with a great battleaxe in hand, and at his side Furgas, and his company of warriors. The combined might of all these powerful companies that had been under constant attack from these kindred throwing themselves forward with a roar that shook the very heavens with thunder, steel, and explosions of magic.
Gauldryon’s face alight with ecstasy, turned to look back at them with a wild grin before he rushed in to join the battle, Glindol’s hand weaving rapidly to shoot bolts of fire as Gregor kicked Biter into himself into the maelstrom. Gregor’s doing his best to protect the reckless lordling on the left, while Daria’s warhammer broke through enemy ranks on the right. The heavy pounding of steel, beating the eardrums as they fought their way forward inch by inch, blood drenching the snow red as sweat poured down into Gregor’s eyes and he began to think that they might have a chance.
But of course he should have known better than to jinx his luck like that as dozens of red robed figures stalked in among them, slaughtered mercenaries with impunity, their golden eyes glowing unnaturally in the darkness. And he knew then that the real vampires had come for them.
Thrown from his saddle by a particularly powerful ogre that rushed in at him with a snarl with it’s fists, Gregor’s blade flashed out, carving it’s belly open as he fell, before he rolled back up to his feet. The ogre that still did not realize it, dead behind him as it stood there dumbfounded.
He then scanned the roadway ahead of him, and saw Gauldryon, Daria, Pelwar, and Tileya, surrounded, their mounts neighing wildly as they were hard pressed from all sides by kindred and vampires, while the rest of the mercenaries were pushed backwards. The lines of warriors falling away as they suddenly realized what they were up against.
Teeth gritted in a grim smile at the thought of saving these weak puke drinkers, he started towards them, when out of nowhere violet coloured eyes flashed into his mind, and heard her voice speak to him. “Wait, Gregor.”
Annoyed at her sudden return, he considered ignoring her altogether, when the world began to shake beneath him, the air became humid and hot, and smoke began to bellow out around him. Black flames erupting out of the ground in roiling flames that shot up high into the sky, he could see cracks begin to form in the middle of the road. The gaping fissure devoured anyone close by as it ripped a hole into a deep well of blackness. The huge black gate that formed and shimmered into existence below, swinging open to release a deluge of monsters the likes of which he had never seen before. Monsters that ravaged with fangs, talons, and claws, some of them even shredding kindred limb from limb and eating them whole like tasty morsels of meat.
His gaze glued to the new threat, he wondered what in the abyss was going on, when he saw her. Saw his Kira among them, her slim form, and silver hair bright in the darkness as she stood there at the entrance to the gates waving at him to come, her voice reaching out to him, “Please Gregor, I need you.” And without thought he began to race towards her, his mind numb with shock, when again he heard the voice speak to him, “she is not real, Gregor.” The shouts and screams of those around him, filling his senses as saw Daria go down under the fists of an infuriated orc, Gauldryon’s blood splattered armor dimming as he cried out and fought with sword and shield. Tileya’s arrows, flying again and again, before a four armed monster with red skin leapt on top of her.
Pelwar, powerful old Pelwar, tossed hard into the side of a stone building to fall limply on the ground. And finally Glindol, his staff blurring from side to side, forced to fall back, his blue robes singed and burnt, his face streaked with ash as he tried to hold off dozens of kindred at bay.
And he knew then that he had to decide, and dear gods, how he wished that choice had been an easy one. Even though he still despised the paladin, he did see a man worthy of respect as a warrior, and him dying like this was not how it was supposed to be. But as he looked back to Kira waiting for him there at the gates, he wanted to go to her, felt his heart die a little inside at the thought of abandoning her again. The voice inside of him, urging him to stay and fight, that she was not real. But she looked real enough to him, her tearful silver eyes still looking deep into him, and could feel himself being torn apart from the inside.
Fists clenched together as he howled in rage to whatever gods had cursed him, he shoved the last spell scroll into his mouth, and chewed down upon it, exploding in a white rush of energy that blew out of his pours, burning him from the inside, and caused his skin to come alive with fiery white light that blasted into the enemy, slaughtering three headed demons, huge lizard warriors that stood ten feet tall, and hundreds of kindred. Each death, somehow feeding him as he continued to blaze like the suns, until with a sudden surge of energy, he felt it build up inside of him, and erupt out of him in a powerful halo of death and destruction that blew everything off its feet, including himself.
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Lying there in the rubble with black smoke all around him, he could smell the scent of burnt flesh and sulphur in the air, and wondered if the price had been worth it? If he would ever see his Kira again, when he saw Daria lurch into view. Her blood-soaked braids stuck to her grimy forehead as she held out an arm to him.
Gaze locked together for what seemed like an age, he could feel mirth bubbling in his chest at the cost, and as he gripped her calloused fingers, he felt himself remember…He was surrounded by the dead and broken bodies, while facing against him was a well muscled monster with glowing red eyes, a leash around its neck, and a body that seemed more like a dragon than that of the man. The huge scaled creature, nipping at the hand of it’s master, a tall, gaunt figure, with sunken golden eyes, and pitch black robes as it smiled down at Gregor, before the vampire’s fist slammed into the side of Gregor’s face in a blur.
Blacking out into sheer darkness, he thought then that he was dead, that he must be dreaming, when he awoke again with bleary eyes to see the half human half dragon tear into the prisoners in the wagon, his attempts to stand back up and fight, broken by a swift kick to his ribs as he lay there groaning on the blood-soaked sand. Daria’s screams ringing in his ears as Gregor fought against the overwhelming pain, fought against the need to sleep as he crawled on his hands and knees forward, grabbed the monster by the tail, and bit down with his teeth. Its cries of rage and agony, turning the red scaled monster upon him in a snarl, when the vampire smiled, and waved the creature away. “I think you will be my new pet. Would you like that, boy?” But before Gregor could answer, he slipped back into the darkness, seeing Daria’s horrified gaze, and for a brief second he felt regret. Regret that he had failed to protect them…
Looking up into Daria’s eyes, he whispered, “I’m sorry.”
And in that brief instant as she stared deep into him, seeing his anguish, the tears dripped out of her eyes as she replied softly, “It was never your fault, Gregor. I only wished that I had been as strong and as brave as you. Maybe then my family and my friends would still be alive.”
Struck by her words, it was then that Gregor realized that Daria had never been angry with him, but at herself for failing them. The same way he had felt guilt at Kira’s death. He should have been faster, quicker, stronger, able to destroy anything that would dare to harm her. But he had failed, failed her like he had failed so many others, and it was this startling realization that he was more like Daria that made him shudder inside. His shoulders rocked by sudden waves of grief as he felt a part of himself become free. Perhaps the fool knight had been right after all and he had needed Daria’s forgiveness. But as he remembered Kira’s face crying out for him, he knew he could never forgive himself for that. He had not just failed her as a warrior, but as a father whose duty it was to protect her. The voice that broke through the groans and cries of the wounded, echoing around him.
"On the darkest of nights,
When the tears of mortals have filled the land,
There shall arrive a warrior of light.
A warrior to take my stead,
The one to lead the armies of light against the Coming Darkness.
Be ready for their coming.
Be ready.
For the world shall need it’s soul for the Coming War."
His head turned to see Gauldryon, his blue eyes strained red with exhaustion, the young knight looked battered, his golden hair soaked with sweat as he stared at Gregor. “You are he, the Lightbearer’s Harbinger.”
But Gregor, too tired for this kind of nonsense, rolled his eyes to the heavens, and glanced around at the dead bodies that carpeted the streets. Some of them were elves, some of them minotaurs, some of them were even werewolves, and giants, while lying in among them were monsters from the depths of hell. The blackened gate that had torn up the middle of the street, now closed as he imagined Kira waiting for him there.
He then shook his head, and began to walk away, found Biter plodding along, and gave him a pat on the neck. “You’re quite the survivor, aren't you.” The big black stallion whinnying his head in agreement as Gregor swung himself back up onto his back.
His gaze drifted over what was left of the mercenaries gathered together, he rode off, his horse’s hoofbeats, followed soon after by the others. The journey through the Foreign Quarter, a mostly silent and maudlin affair as Gregor remembered the faces of those he had killed, the look of utter fatigue in Furgas’ eyes, and the way the sellswords had just stood there, too stunned and drained to do anything. Most of them were so badly wounded that they could barely stand on their own two feet as they watched him leave with sombre expressions.
He had never really cared much about prophecy. He didn’t even really care about retrieving his own memories for fear of what they may hold, but he did wish for one thing, and that was answers. Answers to the questions that had been repeated in his head ever since the day he lost his daughter. He had always assumed her to be dead, but a part of him began to hope again, despite knowing how foolish it was to believe. And yet, he had seen her, had seen her looking at him with those sad silver eyes, and a part of grieved that he hadn’t run to her. Butchered everything in his path to get to her. But at the same time, hearing the voice in his head again, he knew he had done the right thing. He only wished, wished that he could see her again, and knew for certain that she was gone.
His eyes filled with unshed tears at the thought, he rode hard for the city gates, his gaze barely seeing the golden wall that stood open already, and charged back out into the countryside. The snow melted away, making way for lush greenery as he headed up the slope of Dragon’s Perch, it’s gentle crags, and dips, almost calming his mind as Gauldryon and the others, trailed not far behind.
For three days, they continued to travel together, Gregor preferring to be alone in the lead, when one night, in a low sheltered overhang where they set camp for the night. The gnome moved to sit beside him on a stone boulder, the valley floor below them white the snow as the gnome adjusted his blue hat, and gave a low whistle of appreciation. “As a child, when I first came to this world, I was terrified of this place. I almost left the moment I first set foot here. But now looking down upon all this, I know the journey I was on was worth it. Most won’t know it until it is far too late, but there is a certain beauty in testing yourself, pushing to see how far you can go. It is why I have always favoured the cities of humans. Your kind has a way of living your lives to the very limit, and to the last drop of sweat from .”
His head twisted back to look at the wrinkled old face of the gnome with his crystal clear grey eyes, Gregor asked, “Is there a point to this story.”
Chuckling to himself, Glindol shook his small head. “No, not really. I am just simply fascinated by this world of yours.”
Gauldryon, who stood there at the edge of the cliff looking down, suddenly swinging around, his blue gaze intense. “Gregor, we must talk. If you are the Harbinger of Light, you must travel with us to the Monastery of the Eternal Flame. It is only there that you can be properly trained and guided in the coming war against the darkness.”
His lips twisted into a grimace at the sheer arrogance of this fool, Gregor wanted nothing more than to kick the warrior knight over the precipice, before he growled, “no.”
“But you’ve seen the monsters, the cracks in the la–”
“I said no goddammit! What is there to not understand?! I want no part of this blasted war! Or your bloody Lightbearer. I am Gregorias, the Red Savage, the demon of the waste, and those who hear my name should fear me!” Then in a much softer voice, “I am no hero, nor do I wish to ever be. There is only one thing that I want from this world, and she is gone. So quit your preaching and leave me.”
But seeing the stubborn look in the paladin’s eyes, Gregor knew the lordling would not give up there, and so he stood up, and stalked away. His back stiff as he continued the climb upwards to the mountain’s white peak which seemed so close, when he heard the loud beat of wings above him, and looked up to see a dragon. It’s huge, heavily muscled form dropping down out of the clouds to land on a stone outcropping, it’s leathery wings folded up behind it, and red scaled skin shining in the light of the four suns as curious golden eyes peered down at him. “Halfborn, I’ve been expecting you for some time.”
Heart thundering inside of his chest as he looked into the hypnotizing eyes of the dragon, Gregor felt his whole life flash before him, and saw his beautiful Kira out in the training yard he had built for her. …Standing there before a series of wooden dummies in a wide courtyard with wooden walkways that criss-crossed overhead. She moved in to attack him, her blows coming in quick rapid succession, when he brushed them aside, and shoulder charged her. Her agile movements were quick enough that she spun away saving her from another bruise, but as always her movements were too predictable as he looped around, and struck her hard in the side.
Staring at him hard in consternation, her dimpled scarred cheeks scrunched up in annoyance, she let out a low growl, before she snapped, “I thought you were supposed to teach me, I already know how to get hit.”
Laughing as she came at him in a flurry of attacks, he stepped inside of her attacks, pivoted down on his haunches, and with a light tap struck her on the back of her knees, which caused another string of curses. Some of them she must have picked up from Caroline. That woman did so love to needle him about washing his hair, taking a bath, or simply not wearing torn clothes. But what was the point of getting new clothes if they were just going to end up with more holes in them again?
Rolling past Kira as she scrambled to get her footing, he rushed in at her hard, pressing her back towards the wooden line of dummies, flicked his wrist to open the head of one of them, and flung the sand from the head’s bag into her eyes. This time, even Gregor had trouble understanding a few of her choice words for him.
Hearing Caroline calling them from inside their small mountain home, Kira looked about ready to go on the offensive again, when he smiled at her. “Come on, Kiri, you will have plenty of time to learn.” And with a sigh, she nodded her, and suddenly grinned as she called out, “race you to the cabin…”
It wasn’t long after that, Kira was accepted into the Wingdart Company as a recruit, and after that a veteran ranger. She was, and is, the best thing that had ever happened to his life.
The dragon who had not spoken a single word after greeting him, gave him a nod of understanding, “you have come here to learn of your gifts, halfborn. But more importantly how to use your gifts to find her again. I can teach you, but first you must understand that she will not be the same girl that you left behind.”
And as hope flooded through his chest, Gregor replied, “I don’t care. Show me how to find her again.”