Chapter 5:
“THOSE WHO CONTROL THUNDER ARE CALLED THE STORMFORGERS, MY WARRIORS OF VALOR AND BRAVERY."
* THE HELLFIRE CHRONICLES, HOLY BOOK OF TRAGSX
3rd of Jirath, 1012 on the war Calendar:
Oreklad Thaklei rode through The battlefield on his steed. He felt the wind rush him aggressively, being pushed by the tunnel-like geography of the Hollows.
He glanced behind him, his crew of 50 was riding behind him, a few hundred meters back.
"Do we have to go..." Mjolnir, his pledgeborn, asked sufferingly.
Oreklad grimaced, "Yes..." He replied. The WarThunder, the strongest Stormforger in 400 years, the beast that could single-handedly take down droves of trained men and women, was growing weak.
He could no longer feel the rush he once did in battle. All that was left was an empty feeling.
Oreklad pulled the reins on his steed back as a blob of bronze came into view; the Sali army.
The Blood War was unyielding, each nation fighting for borders that hadn't budged in a thousand years.
How long had it been since Oreklad had been home in Kal'ileer, the capital of Draith?
Focus, fool! He chided himself. Even he wasn't invincible. He got off his steed, Slyth, and pulled its face close to his, giving it a silent prayer to Dalthor, Aracanum of Storm, before telling it to return to camp.
Most active fighters were situated in "Temporary camps," which would commonly last decades.
Slyth stepped back then sprouted soft blue feathers along with two massive wings along its back.
Slyth was a Monument Beast of the Thunder Arcane. It was a shame that Oreklad never needed to fly with it.
The beast flapped its wings thrice, a good luck charm, before flying off.
Oreklad turned to face his enemies.
They were scared; he could see the sweat on their faces, the tremble in their step, and the shake in their murmurs.
His reputation proceeded him.
"WarThunder!" A man in distinguished green yelled out, his voice stronger than the rest, "Are you just going to stand there?"
Oreklad scowled; it wasn't enough to go to your death, you had to poke the reaper, too?
Oreklad held his hand outward, "Mjolnir, blade!" He commanded. A stormcloud appeared in his hand before melting into a large white war hammer with two blunt ends accented by gold.
Then Oreklad breathed, connecting to the Arcane of Thunder. Jolts of power rushed through him, commanding him to go further, to be more.
Crackles of lightning fired at his feet before lifting him in the air, a soft glow emitting off his pure blue eyes.
He hovered a few feet above the air overlooking the cattle to slaughter.
An army of 1000 was going to be decimated by a lone Stormforger in navy blue armor that covered everything except his face. A giant blunt war hammer rested in his left hand, a long brown beard flowed from his chin, and short blond hair accompanied by a handsome face. Oreklad, WarThunder, Destroyer of hopes might as well have been one of the Frosjrs.
The Sali roared a battle cry, though, to Oreklad, it sounded more like a whimper.
They started rushing towards him. Oreklad threw his war hammer, crashing it into a line of soldiers, cleaving them away.
Oreklad changed position, holding his feet above his head. He flew towards the ground, which exploded with rubble when he collided. He picked up his hammer and swung it at the droves of enemies rushing him, breaking position.
He slammed his weapon into the heart of a man, making Mjolnir groan in disgust.
He waved around his Devilblade, beheading and smashing his enemies. The way this was going, his cavalry wouldn't even have to arrive.
"Part!" The man in green commanded, and the soldiers did so, more than happy to stop fighting.
The man in green held his hand to the side, a bundle of roots appearing in it before growing into and dissolving into a sword of silvery steel.
"I am Kali!" The man said, holding his blade towards Oreklad; A duel.
Oreklad held his blade towards the Kali, accepting. A golden flash caught the corner of his eye.
Utop the steep grooved wall of the Hollow was a man in a long black hooded cloak and a spear in his hand; The Voidwatcher. He'd started showing up a few months ago to the battles, just watching. That's all he ever does.
Oreklad purged the Voidwatcher from his mind. Oreklad charged towards Kali, his war hammer held back.
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Kali slashed with his sword, which Oreklad flicked away. Quickly, the Earthsplitter stepped back and slashed the air with his Devilblade.
Vines sprouted up and held Oreklad in a tight prison. Kali charged, hoping to behead the WarThunder. Oreklad filled the vines with lightning, killing them.
He held up an arm to block the blade. Oreklad gripped Kali with his hand and threw him to the ground.
Kali grunted as he rose. He charged Oreklad again, engaging in a volley of attacks and parries with the WarThunder's hammer.
Sparks and clangs rang through the air as they fought, the spectators gasping and awing, even the stoic Voidwatcher had a smile on his face.
Oreklad stepped away from Kali, waiting for him to strike. In the heat of the battle, Kali didn't question the odd choice and swung without thought.
Oreklad used his war hammer to steer his opponent's blade deep into the ground, without the chance of it being pulled.
Kali cursed, then dissolved his Devilblade into a pile of sticks.
He jumped back, holding his hand out, but it wouldn't work. His Devilblade wasn't dismissed, it was defeated; Bringing one back from that would take 10 seconds. 10 seconds that Oreklad would use.
The WarThunder rushed towards his enemy and swung his hammer, brutally ripping off the skin from his arm. It healed, but slower than it would have been if hit by a regular weapon.
Oreklad swung again, rippping Kali's right arm off. The Earthslitter howled in pain, but Oreklad ignored him; swinging his hammer on the man's skull, throwing him to the ground.
As Kali started to fall, Oreklad grabbed him by the foot and smashed the Earthsplitter into the ground, ripping off his leg.
Kali howled again as he rose slowly. His Devilblade appeared, falling to the ground.
Oreklad stepped up to the mangled man, Mjolnir giving another groan of displeasure. It was then when the WarThunder came to a realization; he didn't feel the high that came from fighting or killing. The anticipation had left him not too long ago, but now even the excitement that comes from a fight felt foreign. He was about to kill Kali when the thought of slight mercy occurred to him.
He held his warhammer to the side and waited 5 seconds for it to transform into a long blade. Oreklad slashed, beheading Kali painlessly.
Kali's head hit the floor with glowing eyes; an insanity speech.
The decapitated body held firm, lifting a finger to point at Oreklad. "Kraetez does not need a god of death, Stormforger!" The bodiless head screamed. Was it talking about him? No, that was foolish; many men spent their entire lives trying to find meaning in the ravings of the dying.
Oreklad turned away from the body, "What it needs is a god of peace that knows when to pick up and put down his hammer. This is my final message to you, Oreklad!"
Oreklad spun back as the body hit the floor, eyes no longer glowing. Insanity speeches have a storied history, but never has any of them said a name, much less the recipient's!
Oreklad turned to face the army, scowling at the fear in their faces.
A rumbling of hooves rang from behind Oreklad; his volley of archers had arrived.
The Sali army started to run back without a formation, fear burning in their eyes.
Oreklad held up a hand and ordered his men to stop.
The WarThunder rose into the air.
It needs a god of peace.
"Tell your coward of a king what happened here today! Tell him how the WarThunder spared your lives; Maybe then your kingdom will surrender!"
The frozen soldiers nodded weakly before running away.
Oreklad turned to his soldiers, ordering them to return on their own.
Then, the WarThunder flew back to his camp, a peacemaker.
His connection to the Thunder Arcane felt stronger, no, deeper. His relation with the Arcane always felt rudimentary; he made pledges without understanding the Arcane, but that was changing.
.
.
.
It took Oreklad about an hour to return to camp, aided by his storm flight, but that was quicker than his cavalry.
He stood inside a large wooden building writing on scrolls that disappeared when he closed them, being transported to the recipient; a courier paper.
Oreklad was High Heneral of War; that meant he got to give orders to every other soldier in the army, but that also meant he had to give orders to every other soldier in the army.
He informed lesser generals of his stunt of mercy this day.
The hairs on his arm stood up; someone was behind him. Oreklad turned to find a tall man with a strong build in a long dark green cloak, with a hood covering his face. It was the Voidwatcher
Oreklad turned back to writing; for some reason, he felt a comradery with the silent observer. The Voidwatcher, whoever he was, whatever he wanted, was not an enemy.
"Do you believe in redemption?" A surprisingly young voice asked, early 20s, from behind Oreklad.
The WarThunder had to think about that a moment, " No man deserves forgiveness, but should strive towards redemption."
"So why don't you do something about all of this?" The Voidwatcher asked.
"The wars have been going on for a thousand years; only a fool would try and change things now."
"And only a coward doesn't try."
Oreklad thought about it for a moment. "You're right." He said. Somehow, he could feel the Voidwatcher's smile.
"How are you going to get past security-" Oreklad was cut off by a golden flash and a gust of wind from behind him.
Oreklad turned to find the Voidwatcher nolonger there. He didn't have time to look around as a glowing gold scroll appeared in front of him; a courier.
Oreklad snatched the scroll out of the air. An important council meeting. One that requires the presence of all members, especially The High General of War.
Oreklad wasn't required at a meeting for almost a year now, there had to be something quite major for the High General of War to be required.
Oreklad informed his men of his sudden departure and got on top of Slyth. Riding him would help conserve his stamina.
Oddly, connecting to the Sky Arcane made Slyth faster. Oreklad had never tried it before. He felt a kinship with the Monument beast along with the advanced speed.
At this rate, they'd reach Kal'ileer in two days.