370 days until the Arkon Shield falls

Supreme,

There has been an interesting development. The human insurgents have defeated the orcs’ puppets controlling the village. My people have yet to determine how they managed the deed, but this will make our own task more difficult. The humans are much stronger than we suspected, and I fear they will only grow exponentially from this point onwards.

—Archmage Cxal.

Ash and I picked the quietest corner of the camp to begin our work. Hurtling downwards the way a hawk would, the fire elemental climbed out of her dive in a graceful arc to skim low above the ground.

Flaring, she set the tents on either side of her alight.

The orcs were slow to realize their peril. It was only as Ash completed her run that shouts and cries of alarm broke out.

“Fire!”

“Look out!”

“Where did that come from!”

“Arm yourself and man the walls. We’re under attack.”

I smiled in pleasure, recognizing the last voice. It was Fagan. He did not sound panicked yet, but Ash and I had only just begun.

The familiar was climbing again, gaining altitude for her next run. Unlike a real bird, she did not rely on air currents alone to carry her aloft. Assisted by her magic, she was quickly soaring once more.

“Again,” I ordered. Ash plummeted.

“There it is!”

“What is that?”

“Who cares? Just kill it!”

Ash’s second run did not go uncontested. As she swooped down, arrows flew at her, but the familiar was too fast, no more than a streak of red through the sky, and the arrow fire too sporadic and uncoordinated to threaten her. In a handful of heartbeats, the little elemental completed her attack, leaving another row of burning tents in her wake.

“Put out those fires!” That was Fagan again. I grinned. He sounded less happy this time. “Archers form up! There is only one of that bleeding thing. How hard can it be to hit?”

“I see smoke,” Arneson said from beside me as Ash climbed for altitude.

“Me too,” Tara added. “Good job, Jamie.”

Temporarily withdrawing my consciousness from the familiar, I looked at the fort with my own eyes. Sure enough, I saw thin trails of gray smoke rising above the palisade walls.

“How did you do that?” Jhaven asked.

I glanced at him. The shaman’s earlier air of amusement had vanished. I tilted my head to the side, considering him for a moment. “We burned the tents,” I said, deciding to humor him.

Jhaven frowned. “Those tents don’t burn. They’ve been treated to resist both natural and magical fire.” His shaman’s gaze sharpened, and I could see the unspoken question dancing in his eyes: What are you?

Thursten chortled. “Well, It seems like someone didn’t do a good enough job because they’re burning quite merrily!”

I smiled at the old man and, closing my eyes again, rejoined Ash.

It was time for our third run.

✽✽✽

The familiar completed two more attack runs without undue trouble. But by Ash’s fifth assault, the air was thick with arrows.

The orc archers were coordinating their volleys better and had learned to correct for the familiar’s speed. Almost the instant Ash entered arrow range, she was forced to break from her dive to swerve and dodge the incoming fire.

I aborted the attack then and sent Ash winging aloft once more to circle the camp in a holding pattern. Even though sanctum protected the elemental from stray missiles, I was wary of letting her face the brunt of an entire volley.

Looking down through Ash, I studied the camp. More than half the tents were burning, and the wisps of smoke had thickened into black plumes. Orcs were running back and forth with buckets, attempting to extinguish the fires. But as the murluks had learned, dragonfire was not so easily defeated.

My familiar had done her job well, and it was time to move on to the next stage of the plan. Opening my eyes, I found Tara’s gaze. “Ready the men. It’s time for phase two.”

The captain nodded curtly. “Good luck,” she said and strode off to rejoin her command.

“Fagan will put out those fires,” Jhaven said. He looked only half-convinced by his own words, though. “What then?”

“He won’t,” I said grimly. “As for what comes next, you’re about to find out.”

Turning on my heel, I dragon leaped away.

✽✽✽

After a handful of bounds, I was within fifty yards of the orc camp. I was inside bowshot but, protected by sanctum and with invincible on standby, I had little fear from the orcs’ arrows.

The guards posted on the walls were distracted. Most faced inwards, studying the firestorm raging in their camp or searching the skies. Only a few were looking my way, and while they pointed or tracked my movements, none looked especially alarmed at my approach.

That would change soon, though.

Drawing on my magic, I cast seeking flame. A ball of raging fire formed in my hands, and I saw a few guards jerk upright in surprise. I flung my hand forward, releasing the burning projectile. A handful of orcs ducked reflexively beneath the palisade, seeking its protection.

Their caution was unnecessary.

I directed my spell not at the guards atop the walls but at the western gate.

Intently, I waited to see what happened. The condensed ball of dragonfire hurtled into the structure and broke apart on impact, sending trails of fire dripping downwards. The logs forming the gate did not burn as quickly or as easily as the tents, but they were no more able to resist the hungry flames than the tents had been.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

The gate caught alight.

Heads popped back over the wall and, seeing the gate on fire, the orcs shouted in consternation. I moved on. Dragon leaping to the left, I recast seeking flame and threw the fiery orb at the palisade itself.

It, too, started burning.

The guards’ alarm grew, and their cries grew more fervent. Smiling at my success, I circled clockwise around the camp, stopping to start a new fire every ten yards.

It did not take long for Fagan to appear after that.

The orc captain appeared on an unburnt section of the palisade to glare impotently at me. “You will rue this day, human,” he shouted. “I promise you!”

Behind Fagan, I spotted orcs readying their bows. Not bothering to reply to the captain and ignoring the archers, I set the wall below them aflame.

Fagan disappeared from sight.

I chuckled. No doubt, he was scurrying back down the palisade with fresh orders.

I moved on again.

✽✽✽

A little later, I completed a full half-circuit around the fort, leaving the entire northern palisade section burning in my wake. The inferno at the west gate was already spreading, and soon the fort’s south walls would be in flames too.

Fagan had no choice now, I knew. He had to evacuate his people through the eastern gate and into the arms of Petrov’s waiting men.

Reaching out to the undead broodworm in the village, I sent it forward to lie in wait outside the burning west gate. Once the creature was in motion, I broke off my assault and retreated towards Petrov’s forces, landing with a thump before Giselle, Petrov, and Lance.

“Begin,” I ordered, panting.

Wordlessly, Giselle, Lance, and Bunny advanced. The spider queen led the way. Stopping fifty yards from the gate, the beast fired silken strands at it while Lance and Giselle huddled in her shadow, ready to heal her should it prove necessary.

In short order, the gate was buried beneath a heap of spiderwebs.

Perfect. Fagan and the orcs would find it harder to escape the burning camp than they anticipated.

“Good to see you again,” Petrov remarked. “You’ve been busy.”

A weary smile flickered across my face. “I have been,” I agreed. “Tara and the others are ready to move, and the broodworm is in place.”

The captain inclined his head, acknowledging the report.

Looking through Ash again, I saw the orcs had given up trying to extinguish the blaze in the fort. “Fagan is assembling his men inside the gate,” I said.

Petrov nodded and waved the line of archers behind him forward. “What’s the enemy’s condition?”

“Ragged,” I said, throwing him a lopsided grin. Fagan’s officers were having a hard time getting his company into formation. Most of the orcs were coughing from the thick smoke, some bore burns, and a few looked close to passing out.

Time to add to the chaos.

Closing my eyes, I took control of the reanimated broodworm and sent it charging through the now mostly charred west gate. Flaming embers fell onto the undead, and somewhat to my surprise, it also caught alight.

Even better, I thought, directing the creature on a straight-line course to the east gate. Concealed by the smoke and burning tents, the broodworm crept up almost unseen on the rear of the orcish column and flung itself onto the surprised soldiers.

The orcs scattered.

Harried officers drew them back into formation. Drawing their weapons, the orcish soldiers closed ranks and advanced on the foe that had turned up in their midst.

A melee broke out.

Fagan must be cursing, I thought in glee. With every passing second, the smoke clogging the camp grew thicker, and the orc captain could ill-afford for his company to be bogged down in a skirmish. But the undead was not a menace they could leave unattended at their back.

Directing the broodworm as best I could, I searched out the most vulnerable amongst the orcs and set the creature upon them. In the ensuing melee, more soldiers sustained burns or inhaled smoke.

“Excellent,” I murmured once the fight was truly underway. I knew, though, that the orcs would not take long to deal with the undead. While they were distracted, we needed to act. Withdrawing my awareness from the creature, I turned back to Petrov. “Give the order to fire.”

“Archers, release!” he bellowed a moment later.

Through Ash, I watched as the volley fired from some three hundred archers arced over the palisade to fall amongst the orcs turned the wrong way.

The damage was minimal, but it added to the confusion raging in the orcish company. Some officers ordered their squads to turnabout and raise shields, others ignored the falling arrows and kept their men hacking at the broodworm. Perhaps understanding our ploy, a ragged-looking Fagan ordered a squad of orcs to break off from their assault on the undead and open the gate.

Held fast by Bunny’s webs, it refused to budge.

I could almost taste the orc captain’s frustration as he realized his company’s predicament. His face contorting in fury, Fagan ordered a second squad to assist the first.

Our makeshift lock on the gate would not last long against twenty orcs working in tandem, but we did not expect it to. “They’re trying to break out,” I said for Petrov’s benefit. “Be ready to act.”

Arrows continued to rain down from the sky, and here and there, I saw an orcish fighter crumple. We weren’t doing nearly enough damage, but things were only going to get worse for the orcs from here on out.

The gate began to slide open.

At almost the same time, I felt the broodworm collapse. It had fulfilled its purpose, though, and I had no further need of it. Separating my consciousness from Ash, I opened my eyes. “They are going to come through any moment now,” I said. “Pull back the archers.”

“Archers retreat!” Petrov roared. “Spearmen forward!”

Leaving the big captain to see to the adjusting of our battlelines, I advanced myself until I was side by side with Giselle, Lance, and Bunny. Then I drew on my magic and readied myself.

The east gate was flung open all the way, and orcs spilled out with Fagan at their fore.

“Now, Ash,” I called.

From high above, unnoticed, the elemental hurtled downwards.

Fagan had eyes only for me. Seeing me standing less than fifty yards away, his face twisted in rage. Raising his blade, the captain bellowed to the orcs behind him. “There he is! Get—”

He never got to finish the order.

Plummeting downwards, Ash cast living torch and transformed from a small burning shape into a meteor of light and heat. Some sixth sense warned Fagan, and he flung his head upwards. Glimpsing the falling star, the orc captain’s eyes widened in horror.

A heartbeat later, Ash crashed into the head of the orc column.

The impact shook the ground. Orcs were flung aloft, their skin charred and their eyes blinded. In the epicenter of the blast, Fagan bore the brunt of the damage. Even so, the orc captain wasn’t killed outright. But he was left a smoking, ruined mess.

A Trials message dropped in my mind.

Ash has spent her lifeforce and has been banished to her crystal.

I felt a spurt of sorrow at my familiar’s passing, but it was only temporary. She would be back. Through my magesight, I watched the tattered remnants of her spirit withdraw into the elemental fragment of fire that sheltered her.

“Well done, Ash,” I breathed.

There was no response. The familiar was dormant already, and it would be some time before she would recover enough to awake.

“By God,” Giselle whispered, uncharacteristically solemn as she eyed the destruction the familiar had wreaked. “Who would have thought one small spirit could do all that.”

I smiled. “Ash may be small, but she punches above her weight.” I ran my gaze over the enemy. In terms of numbers alone, the orc company was largely intact, but that didn’t count for much anymore. The orcs still milled about in confusion around the gate. I lowered my staff.

It was time to finish them.

✽✽✽

Ash’s gambit spelled the beginning of the end for the orcs.

Outflanked, disheartened, sickened by smoke inhalation, and leaderless, they succumbed quickly under the relentless assault that followed by the nine hundred men and women hungry for vengeance.

Not a single one of Fagan’s company walked away alive from the battlefield.

Our own losses were comparatively light—fifty dead spearmen and rebels. That number still made me swallow bitterly, but it was far better than we could have hoped for at the start of the evening.

Crucially, too, we’d prevented word of Sanctuary’s rebellion from getting back to Orgtul. The orcs would learn the truth of what happened here eventually, but we’d bought ourselves more time to prepare for that day.

“You did good,” Petrov said as our tired company of men and women made its way back to the village.

I nodded wordlessly, unable to fully enjoy our success, not when it had still come at a cost.

Passing through the gate, I caught sight of Jhaven. The shaman’s eyes were wide with shock and horror as he stared fixedly at the still-burning orc camp. I hoped the destruction we had wreaked would convince him to accept Thursten’s contract.

Otherwise, he too would soon be joining his dead fellows.