Date: Wed, 7 Jan 2004 16:01:14 -0600 From: Corey Perez Subject: Eternal Dream-17 (Gay,male,Fantasy)series I'm a bit old fashioned in that I believe in duty, honor, compassion, and integrity that transcend one's personal needs and desires. To me, these things are critical to create a functional society. When you give your word, keep it. When you love, love with your whole heart, hide nothing away. When you speak, speak truly. When something must be done, do it. These ideals are part of what drives this story, as well as my own life. This is not just a story about heroes, villains, monsters and wizards. It's struggle between duty and selfishness, honor and treachery, compassion and cruelty, integrity and deceit. It's about a young man who finds a world where his fondest wishes are made manifest, and his dreams are real. He must hold onto his ideals and dreams while still fighting for the very survival of everything he has come to hold dear. Loosing ones innocence is no reason to lose ones ideals and dreams. For a time, I forgot this truth and became bitter and angry. I hated the world and humanity for being less then they could be. Less than they SHOULD be. Eventually I realized that almost everyone is at least a little jaded and bitter, that's why they didn't live up to their potential. They let their dreams die and so, like me, had become part of the problem. Duty, honor, compassion, integrity, these are ideals that we have let die in our country. We treat those who are different as if they are lesser than ourselves. We do not honor our word, or our fellows. We struggle not for what is right, but only for what we think is best for ourselves. We love, only when it is safe, and cast aside those that do not please us. We judge people, not on who they are, but only on what they appear to be. I say these things not to condemn, but to express my sorrow for humanity. Once I held to my heart a dream of a better world, a place where people taught one another how to care about each other as much as they do for themselves. A world where we help each other make the most of ourselves, and give each other the motivation to carry on. Not a perfect world, but a world where we worked toward the goal of bettering ourselves, not just our personal situations. That's the real reason behind his story I suppose. I wanted to share my dream with the world and hope that some people share it. For those of you who asked me what my inspiration was, I hope that answers your questions. :) Here's wishing a Happy New Year to everyone. Corey Cperez@gmotion.com 1/1/2004 * * * * * * * * * * * * Unlike many of the people from the world of my birth, the people here understand that war, while never pretty or desirable, is sometimes necessary. To them, war is not a tool to gain power, resources or enforce ideology. It is a means by which they defend their lives and families from the domination of a dark god and his twisted children. The soldiers are happy to protect the people from bandits, and maintain the peace. They do not enjoy war, for not only is it harsh and destructive, but it keeps them from their duties at home. Most of the people who oppose the war with the orks that has waged off and on for the last thousand years are not against the suppression of the orkish threat, but only against the soldiers it draws from domestic security duties. Those who do enjoy the thrill of battle, or who feel that the orks are a more important threat, gravitate to the ranks of the Border Knights. These men and women maintain a close relationship with both the Elves and the Griffins who stand at their sides and shed their blood together. Even the most militant of these people still manage to promote peace with other races, because they understand the concept best phrased "If we do not hang together, we shall all hang separately." ----------- Journals of Andy Nickels * * * * * * * * * * * * The liberation of El'Analon was simple if brutal. Long ago, before the Exodus that drove the elves to this land during the War of Power, they had learned many things from the Children of Hurin. These beings, whose racial name was lost in the mists of time, were the greatest of the world's builders and shapers. They were capable of awe-inspiring architecture and soul touching beauty in their crafts. Before they were lost to the fury of the War, they passed some of their secrets and skills on to their elvin friends and allies. Thus it was that when they built the city of El'Analon, it was as much a dedication and memorial to their lost friends as it was a home. The city rose into impossibly delicate spires that reached dizzying heights. Many of the cities structures, including the walls, were not built but grown from the living bones of the world, shaped by the magic of the elves along the guidelines laid down by the Children of Hurin. Each of these magnificent buildings had incorporated into them enchantments that kept the structures strong and repaired damage as it occurred. They also contained powerful wards and defenses that could be called upon to lash out at invaders and enhance the might of the cities defenders. In ancient times, it was these types defenses that had allowed the Children of Hurin and their god to hold the forces of Kerlack back as the elves escaped. Though they had meant to follow their allies into safety, the death of Hurin closed the way before they were able escape with the elves. In the here and now the defenses the elves had based upon those ancient magics were now used to their full effect upon the orks which soiled the city. The stones themselves rose up to crush the orks upon the command of the Queen, for with the sword in her hands she was able to unleash the full power of El'Analon upon the invaders. It had been King C'ominar who had decided that the elves were better off fleeing the Horde than standing against it without the humans, and dying as a people. Now that the Horde was elsewhere, and an opportunity to retake the city as a base to operate troops in the ork's rear area had arisen, the Queen felt no compunction about turning the city loose. It took less than an hour to kill every ork in El'Analon, and then the city began to cleanse itself of the blood and corpses of its enemies. None of these had any effect on the half-elvin woman who made her way through the chaotic fighting. None of liberators bothered her, for she was one of their own, and no ork dared stand in her way. They all knew who she was. She walked through the early fighting and later cataclysms the city itself unleashed with equal aplomb. As far as she was concerned it wasn't a disaster, though it was admittedly disappointing to have the elves recover their capitol. Neither she nor her son had yet been able to crack the various defenses on the more important buildings, and of course now access to the Great Library was cut off. Not that it was much of a loss since they Histories had suddenly stopped. Though she would have liked to devote the city to Kerlack, or at least raze it to the ground, at least the Horde wasn't loosing anything important. Besides, every soldier here was one less keeping Ter'Zhull from crushing the Host of Man and bringing ruin to their Kingdom. So, since there was no longer any reason for her to remain in the area, she would return to the Pit of Kerlack. There was still much to do. * * * * * * * * * * * * The Horde broke through to the plains of Meredo eventually. The elves had delayed their advance longer than anyone could have hoped, and the Host had used that time well. The former camp had been protected by defenses designed to delay any attack long enough to get the troops organized to defend themselves. Now those defenses had been expanded and deepened. Rows of trenches filled with sharpened stakes, barricades and breastworks warded the approaches and would force the orks to break up into more manageable portions that the pikemen could keep pinned. Pit traps, fields of caltrops and other hazards would make movement in the killing fields difficult and dangerous. Stakes had been laid out in the fields to give the archers an easy way to judge range and rate of closure, and stores of pitch and a substance that reminded Andy of napalm. A mixture of the two was placed in a container which the War Wizards prepared that would explode when about 10 feet off the ground, spraying the freshly ignited mixture over a large area. They assured him that it would burn hot and CLING, raising walls of fire that would break up the ork charges nicely. Ranging patrols of Sky Knights kept tabs on the orks, watching for any flanking maneuvers, while the elves continued to harass the orks. The Host was as prepared as it could be. The only bad thing was that Andy knew it wouldn't be enough. There were just too many orks, and too much magical backing. Even though they would not win here, Andy and ever other member of this force knew that they would bleed the orks badly and force them to take time to reconsolidate before they chased after the humans. Time that would allow this force to make it to the pass where, according to the reports coming into the command tent, the units already there were building up a nasty welcome for their foreign visitors. Andy had been asleep in his pavilion when Nathan arrived bearing word that the Horde's arrival was imminent, and that the general staff would be awaiting his arrival in the command tent. Sleep was instantly banished from his brain at the news, and he quickly rose from bed, forgetting in his haste that he was completely nude. The cool air quickly reminded him however, and his embarrassment was evident. Nathan smiled and indicated simple, but well made clothes that had been laid out. "If I may Your Highness, I would be happy to assist you in getting ready." "It's really not necessary." Andy said, blushing. "I can dress myself." "Of course you can Your Highness." The boy said as he bowed, still holding his eyes on Andy. "But it is our purpose to help you so that you can get ready quickly and still look your best. Appearance is important to the image of a Noble Your Highness." At a loss for words, Andy nodded his consent and Nathan began the process of dressing him. The young page was both quick and efficient in his dressing, but nonetheless it still felt uncomfortable to Andy. Perhaps it was the way he could feel the page looking at him, or maybe it was how he noticed how soft the boy's hands were. When Mistress Gena, who usually did this, dressed him it seemed very detached and professional. With Nathan, Andy felt almost guilty, mostly because he found himself enjoying the attention. The dressing finished, Nathan proceeded to brush out Andy's hair, and prepare appropriate accessories, including making sure that the Prince's swords were close at hand. Grooming finished Nathan bowed and asked leave to depart. "Where is Mistress Gena Nathan?" Andy asked. "She is helping the others pack and prepare to depart so that the pavilion will be waiting for you when you arrive with the rest of the Host Your Highness. I volunteered to help cover some of her duties as I am of little use in packing." He smiled. "Will there be anything else Your Highness?" He asked. "No, thank you Nathan." "It was my pleasure Your Highness." Nathan responded with a grin. Ten minutes later, when Andy walked into the command tent, his appearance raised eyebrows all around. Over the clothing he wore a suit of armor unlike any that these warriors had ever seen. It was armor he was familiar with, the armor of a Samurai. Done in shades of blue and white with gold trim, the armor was both beautiful and exotic, but fit perfectly with the paired swords that rode on his hip. "Interesting attire Your Highness." General Anastona said in an overly casual manner. "Were you perhaps planning on joining in the battle?" Andy grinned at the General's tone and shook his head. "No General, I know better than to get men killed trying to keep my hide intact." He removed the helmet and mempo, and hung both from a hook on the back of the armor designed for the purpose. "This is the result of a spell I worked out. It's weightless and incredibly strong. I figured it was better to have it and not need it, than need it and not have it." The officers and guards visibly relaxed at his declaration. It was good to know that the Prince was willing to take precautions like armor, and not reckless enough to go charging into battle and endanger others in his quest for glory. "I'm glad you are here Your Highness." Anastona began. "I'm afraid that the orks have been exhibiting behavior that's rather disturbing." He gestured to the map table that was not focused on the local situation. Andy looked over the images of the assembling Horde and began to notice things that did not jive with what he had learned about ork tactics from these officers. "They are forming up." He said quietly. "I thought they didn't bother to form units." He looked up at Anastona. "Indeed Your Highness." The General responded gravely. "In the past they have acted more as a mob than an army. I don't know where they gained the discipline but it does not bode well for us." Andy shifted around uncomfortably. "I wonder how well trained they really are though." He mused. "I can only imagine that this must be new to them, and profoundly unnatural." Anastona nodded as he considered the idea. "It does run contrary to their nature. Perhaps we can take advantage of this and throw them into confusion. It might make our withdrawal easier to accomplish." * * * * * * * * * * * * Indeed, the orks were somewhat on edge. The will of their warlord must be obeyed, but that will filled many of the warriors with confusion. They did not understand the need to remain in place, or follow a certain person, or fight a certain way. It seemed ... wrong. Ter'Zhull was well aware of how fragile his Horde's combat discipline was. In fact, he wasn't counting too heavily on it at all. He was sure that eventually his warriors would come to understand what was expected of them, but in the meantime he would settle for the panic that the image of a disciplined ork force must have been instilling in the humans war leaders from the moment they began forming up. It was hardly important. After all he Horde was more than enough to grind this force underneath their might. Breaking their morale would have been merely a sweet bonus. With a snort of amusement as the idea of the humans running in terror, he turned his mind back to the task at hand. "Order the advance." He snarled. * * * * * * * * * * * * "It's begun." Someone said quietly. Andy watched the map as the orks began to slowly move toward the Host's lines. They game at a deliberate pace, maintaining formation almost like a truly well trained army. But the weeks of training he overseen with the general staff had clued him in to small discrepancies that revealed the true level of an enemies training. By the way these orks moved, it confirmed his suspicion that they were not as truly well trained as might have been feared. "Well, that answers that question." Anastona murmured. He and Marshal O'meneri were the only members of the general staff still in the command tent. Dera'Lione and Sky Marshal Aram were both already in the field, prepared to personally lead their units into battle. "If we hit them hard enough, Your Highness, they should shatter like glass." Andy grunted something that sounded remotely like an agreement. He took a deep breath and sighed. "It's time for me to get this show on the road." He said. "Marshal, are the Bladedancers ready?" O'meneri inclined his head in agreement. "They await you near the forward supply point Your Highness and have already formed the gestalt in preparation." Andy nodded his thanks. "If you gentlemen will excuse me, I'll just be off taking care of my part of the fight. Marshal, General, good luck." Turning on his heel, Andy moved with purpose to meet with the gathered Bladedancers. As he began to pass the various soldiers and few remaining support personnel, Andy noticed that many were watching the coming horde as they went about their duties. It was an unnerving sight, all those orks moving in formation, and he knew it had to be having an impact on morale. With a small sigh, he focused on the bloodstone pieces worked into the spell armor he wore and established a link with every member of the host still here. "Ugly isn't it?" He asked rhetorically. Andy noticed that most people, still unused to the new communication system, jumped slightly at his unexpected comment. "All those grunt troops, moving like real soldiers and coming right at us." Andy chuckled nastily. "It looks damn impressive, but it's all just a show. They know less than the average conscript here about how to be a soldier. All they are is a group of individuals who don't know how to work as a team. They think that they can intimidated and frighten us. But we know the truth; we know that their bluff will only serve to bite them in the ass. 'Cause when the hammer comes down, they are going to shatter like so much cheap pottery and fall into chaos." A savage grin formed on Andy's face as he continued toward his destination, and the tone of his words carried that smile to the listening soldiers. "We all know we aren't here to beat these animals." He said. "We are here to beat them bloody, break their cohesion, and scatter their troops. We are going to knock them down and kick them in the balls over and over again." Andy heard a chuckle ripple through the Host, and his grin widened. "And after we have them on the ground and whimpering, we are going to leave them here. Battered and bleeding and aching for payback, and we are going to lure those stupid son's of bitches straight into the meat grinder our fellow soldiers are getting ready even now." "We won't beat them here my friends, but they WILL know they have stuck their ugly snouts in the bear cave, and they are going to learn that when you fuck with elves and humans, all you get it a lot of hurt for your troubles." Through the Host, and even among the normally reserved elves, a great shouted cheer rose. Thousands of voices spit their defiance in the face of the invaders, and dared them to come get some. Andy allowed the sound to wash over him, as the orks seemed to hesitate slightly before coming on once more. Forgetting for a moment that he was still broadcasting Andy snarled. "Come get some you bastards!" Hearing his words shouted out loud by those around him, Andy shut down his bloodstone. With one last look around, he entered the space that had been set aside by the elves. Here the Bladedancers waited for him. Each elf was in a comfortable position, be it sitting, standing or kneeling. All had their eyes closed, and if one took a close look, you could see that every one of them breathed in exactly the same way. Andy was quite willing to bet that their heart rates were synchronized as well. Sitting down in the midst of these elves, Andy began to control his breathing, and concentrate on his heart, trying to guide his body into the same patterns as those around him. As far as Andy understood, the ability to form a Gestalt to build a great power level was a trait that only elves shared with Orks. Unlike the orks however, the power of the Gestalt could not be focused into one being, and it required a deep meditative state in order to properly link. Earlon, however, explained that a Sorcerer was supposedly able to draw upon any form of magic. Which means that theoretically, he should be able to join the Gestalt and become a focus for it. All tests, so far, had born out Earlon's statements and now the final test had arrived. By gathering the combined strength of the Bladedancers, Andy hoped that he would have enough raw power to overwhelm Ter'Zhull and keep him from interfering in the coming battle. After their brief contact, courtesy of the bloodstone sphere that had been found among Lady Emelia's effects, Andy was positive he could pick Ter'Zhull's mind out of the Horde and focus the Gestalt's power into an incredible attack that would remove him as a factor. Andy felt his mind slip into the Gestalt effortlessly, and knew that he would succeed in his mission. Failure was not an option. * * * * * * * * * * * * The Host's defiance momentarily surprised the Horde. The surprise, however, was quickly replaced by excitement as they dimly realized that THIS enemy was going to stand and fight. The orks began to move more swiftly, causing some of their formations to begin coming apart. Then they hit the outer defenses. Instinctively bypassing the spiked logs that warded the Host's flanks, the orks began to funnel into the open ground in front of the human encampment. The lead orks suddenly found themselves unable to walk effectively as the 2-3 inch spikes of the caltrops, which the humans had generously spread throughout the tall plains grass, pierced their feet and lamed them. Howls of pain went up as tendons cut, or orks tripped and fell onto the spikes that impeded their advance. The injured lead warriors tried to slow down and take their time, but the pressure from those behind them drove them deeper and deeper into the caltrop field or trampled them where they lay. Fortune truly shown on these lead orks, for not only had they discovered the gifts that they humans had left for them, but they also were the first ones to find the pit traps that had been laboriously dug by the humans to provide them with a place to rest. Permanently. The cunningly concealed trapdoors that covered the spike-filled pits popped open when the lead orks were only a quarter of the way across the outer defense perimeter. Hundreds of orks fell to be killed or hopelessly maimed. Their fellows continued their advance, pressing still more orks into the pits, killing ever more of the Horde. Word of the traps and caltrops worked its way through the Horde and the progress of the ork's advance slowed as the warriors bunched together milling around. Ter'Zhull began to curse as his army disintegrated into a directionless mob. He raised his arms, and began to focus his will and bring his troops back under control. * * * * * * * * * * * * Andy had been waiting for just this moment. As he sensed the ork Shaman's mind focusing to reorganize his Horde, Andy sent a thought to Marshal O'meneri who would begin the attack on the orks once he was fairly certain that the Gestalt had engaged Ter'Zhull. Andy gathered the combined will of the Gestalt and sent a tether rushing toward the growing point of energy that he recognized as the mind of the shaman warlord Ter'Zhull. When that tendril of energy contacted the ork's mind, the full fury of its power stabbed forward. The timing of the attack was less than perfect from the orks point of view. Ter'Zhull had just begun to touch the minds of his warriors at the most primitive level when the assault struck him. His instantaneous fear and pain traveled along that link into the back-brain of every ork in the Horde. These unfortunates began feeling nagging doubt and a slowly building panic. That's when the arrows began to fall. Upon the command from Marshal O'meneri, every bow in the possession of every human and elf was fired in one massive salvo. Thousands of arrows seemed to blot out the sun as the missiles arced into the air to slam into the ork vanguard like a hurricane of death. Again and again the soldiers sent sheets of arrows into the sky, moving so swiftly and smoothly that the second volley was being fired by the time the first had hit it's halfway point. Normally, orks would have taken the arrow attack without pause. Casualties were, after all, the natural consequence of fighting. But that small seed of doubt that was still being fed by their connection to Ter'Zhull caused them to hesitate, and then halt completely. Seeing their warriors falter, the various war leaders among the Horde began to take steps. Some screamed and threatened, while others used a few graphic examples of how disappointing Ter'Zhull tended to be somewhat more risky than facing down a few humans. Others, especially those in Ter'Zhull's inner circle, began to realize what was going on and decided to bring out their surprise to knock these humans back on their heels and stiffen the spines of their warriors. The orders went out, and the reserves deployed. * * * * * * * * * * * * "I'm sorry, what did you say?" General Anastona asked of the communications officer who had reported the unbelievable. "Sky Marshal Aram confirms it sir." The young soldier replied nervously. "The orks are deploying what appear to be heavy cavalry. " Anastona refrained from cursing, no matter how much he wanted to. The last thing he needed to do was show these troops how upsetting he found that news. He turned and regarded Marshal O'meneri with a raised eyebrow. The elvin Marshal returned his colleague's look with his own steady gaze, and inclined his head slightly. 'Well, that tears it." Anastona thought to himself. 'He recognizes what deep shit we are in, and knows that I'm the best one to handle it. Lucky me.' He took a deep breath and considered. He looked at an image of the forming ork cavalry. Their steeds appeared to be larger, more powerful versions of the Hounds created from the shaman's twisted magics. Ork warriors, usually those who displeased their masters, were condemned to be warped by shamans into creatures used to track down fleeing prisoners. It appeared as if they were now attempting to duplicate some of the tactical flexibility of the human cavalry. What was truly disturbing is the fact that the orks were showing tactical innovation at all. Orks that learned were bad business. There were several options he had to respond to this new threat. He could unleash the Paladins and the rest of the cavalry to meet these new warriors. Unfortunately, they were needed for the shock that would allow the infantry to drive back the orks, and harass them as they pulled back so that the infantry could begin the withdrawal. Alternatively, he could try a new tactic. His conversations with His Highness had been very interesting, and the Prince had let slip possible responses to cavalry charges in one conversation about how to utilize their horsemen. The Prince's comment about a "Pike wall", several ranks of exceptionally long pikes, and how it HAD been used in the past to protect infantry formations from mass charges and heavy cavalry had attracted the General's interest. The Prince's odd use of tense aside, it seemed fairly feasible, but unfortunately would require well-disciplined troops (which he had) and extremely long pikes (which he did not have). Besides which, it was too early to be revealing any real surprises yet on what they were capable of. Such revelations would have to wait until there were ready to make decisive use of them. The only other option available was to open up earlier than planned with the War Wizards. He had intended to wait until the ork shamans had begun enhancing their troops and using the awesome power of the Wizards to begin smashing those enhanced warriors before they made it to the human lines. Unfortunately, waiting was not an option. As the ork cavalry began to move, it was clear they were going to attempt to flank the infantry lines. The reserve was available to fight them off, but it would be dangerous for morale to allow a flank attack in unchallenged, and Anastona was not even willing to guess what those creatures might be capable of, especially not when mounted by powerful ork warriors. Reaching his decision in seconds, Anastona turned and began to lay out a plan of attack for his Wizards. * * * * * * * * * * * * The appearance of the cavalry, and their charge toward the human flank started to dispel some of the despair that continued to plague the Horde. The warriors began, once more, to advance against their foes. The rain of arrows continued, and the caltrops slowed progress, but the Horde made progress. Stepping over the bodies of their fellows, they moved with the inevitable power of a glacier, stopping for nothing, until they hit the inner defense perimeter. Spike filled trenches, backed by breastworks created only narrow approaches that were the only way to get at the pike blocks of the human infantry. Archers continued to hammer at the ork tide as it swelled forward onto the waiting pikes. Screams and bellows filled the air as flesh met steel and man and ork alike died. The orks would be pushed onto that forest of points by sheer pressure from behind them. Most died horribly as the humans expertly manipulated their weapons to cause lethal or crippling wounds. The ground became slick with blood and other detritus, causing even more orks to fall and be trampled under the feet of their fellows. Occasionally a warrior or two would manage to get to the soldiers in the front ranks of the human infantry who were armed with tower shields and swords. If those warriors killed the soldiers in front of them, the opened a breach into the human lines and began to kill those armed with pikes that could not defend themselves at this range. These warriors would die, killed by the other swordsmen who would finish them off, or Wizards that used tightly focused spells to designed to deal with just these eventualities. However it was accomplished, the survivors would step grimly forward to fill the breach, and the killing resumed. It was in this way that the orks would win. Attrition would eventually take its toll as humans died. There were far less humans than there were orks, and each human death wore away their ability to hold on. Sooner or later fatigue, or just a simple mistake would create an opening and the orks would pour into their rear area and the slaughter would begin. Aware of this reality as they were, the soldiers didn't even consider them. Consummate professionals, these soldiers knew that death comes to all eventually. They were determined that when they went down, they would not go alone. The ork cavalry charge was less than 300 ft from the flank when the holocaust began. Normally, they would have been tasked to slow the charge of the ork warriors, but those Wizards on offensive duty now bent their magics to destroy this attack. Over and over they rained lightning from the skies, exploded balls of fire in the midst of the charging foe and hurled stones that swept riders from steeds or shattered those steeds, throwing the rider to his death. Rocks blew up with massive concussion waves that left craters in the ground large enough and deep enough to act as trenches, which caught many riders in their deadly grip. Most of these Wizards rode upon the backs of griffins, allowing them to make the most of their spells, and they kicked the guts out of the cavalry charge. The ork formations broken, the Sky Knights who had accompanied the Wizards joined the fight. They rained arrows to pick off stragglers or break up knots of troops, or swept down to pluck riders from the saddle with griffin talon, or run them through with a lance. Within minutes, the uncontested power of the Sky Knights and War Wizards not only defeated the charge; they had utterly destroyed the unit. Those minutes had, however, allowed the ork infantry to make contact with the pikemen unopposed by the traditional barrage. Weary, but determined to lend what support they could, the War Wizards drew upon whatever reserves of strength they had to rend the ork forces with fire and death. It was at this point that General Anastona released the Paladins and heavy cavalry of the Border Knights. Sweeping in from BOTH flanks, the two forces converged on the ork force like a crushing vise. As one, the lances of the cavalry dropped into position with a sound that punctuated the steady rumble of the hoof beats. Orks turned to look for what had caused the earthquake that they could feel through their feet. The sight they were privy too was one that most beings only see once; flashing steel, flowing movement and a final crash as those mountains of flesh and steel slammed into them like a tsunami. The tremendous force the horse's weight transmitted to the knights' weapons letting those lances drive completely through a body. So tightly packed were their foes, that frequently a single lance would sometimes kill two or more orks. When those lances broke, or became stuck in the bodies of the warriors they killed and maimed, those knights would drop the lances and draw swords and axe, and lay into the orks. Momentum and sheer ruthlessness carried the two cavalry formations into each other, completely cutting the ork vanguard off from the bulk of the Horde. Passing each other, expertly guiding their warhorses around each other, the two formations interpenetrated and kept riding, each going the way their fellows had come from. The shocked, and disrupted Horde was unable to pin the horsemen down, and so they retired from the field to return behind their own lines to prepare for another charge to begin. The pressure behind them suddenly relieved, the remnants of the vanguard turned and fled to join the rest of the Horde. The pikemen took the opportunity to kill many of the fleeing orks as they turned to run, and would have pursued their foes if not for the sharp commands from their officers. * * * * * * * * * * * * It had been too soon to commit the cavalry of course, but there hadn't been a choice in the matter. The support of the War Wizards had been insufficient to stem the tide of orks that were on the verge of overwhelming the infantry positions. Reports said that the Prince and the Bladedancers were still deep in their gestalt, so he had to assume that they were at least keeping Ter'Zhull too busy to intervene. At least something was going according to plan. In the meantime, he ordered the reserves forward, and rotated out the pikemen already in place back to get some rest, and reorganize. His staff's estimate was about 2,000 enemy casualties, which was a pretty good opening to the battle. It would take the orks a while to get their shit together after the pounding they just got, but they would be back. They always came back. The War Wizards were also heading in to rest. They knew to take any opportunity they could to restore whatever energy they could in these little lulls. Eves moved among the wounded, healing where they could, and relieving fatigue and pain from those who weren't. It was times like these when the alliance showed its wisdom. In what seemed like an eye-blink, the orks were once more advancing against the human lines. This time, however, they were well aware of the traps and caltrops. They were slowed slightly in avoiding the pits, but the carpet of bodies that littered the field mostly negated the caltrops. Once they were through the outer defense perimeter, the War Wizards rose once more, to strike at the orks. With little time to rest between their attacks, fatigue was beginning to plague their minds in spite of all the elves had been able to do for them. Their attack was magnificent and broke up the advance into pieces the infantry could manage, but they would not be able to repeat the performance for a while. The infantry managed to drive off this attack as well, and once more the orks retired to reorganize and prepare for the next assault. Human losses were not as severe as they were in the first round, but the support of the War Wizards would not be available for a time. Normally, the Wizards would have been used sparingly in order to give them plenty of time to regain their energies, cycling them in and out of combat to make their abilities last as long as possible. That hadn't been possible this time, and it was going to cost the Host in the long run. When the Horde returned, they did not face the wrath of the human mages, and it was at this time that the ork shamans chose to intervene once more. Dark energies ran through the ork warriors, increasing their speed and strength driving them into frenzy. Many turned on each other in mindless fury, but most slammed into the human lines like a hammer. Men and ork died as the berserk warriors wrecked havoc in the human formations. Faced with the possibility of a breakthrough, Anastona sent in the reserves to bolster the line, and once more cut the cavalry loose, hoping that they could pull the pressure off of the infantry. As the reserves went streaming into their support positions War Wizards, many exhausted by their mass expenditures of power, rose once more to throw what they could into the teeth of the oncoming horde. The massive explosions tore holes in the ork ranks that simply filled in once more as others flooded in. The spent Wizards returned to their rest, or simply passed out from the exertion. Piles of corpses were used as breastworks by the infantry, and the orks climbed over the bodies of their own dead to get at the humans who stood in their way. The carnage only increased as the cavalry made its charge. This time the orks were prepared for the charge. Though the pressure on the infantry decreased dramatically, the horsemen were not able to blow completely through the orks this time around. Forced to stand and fight, the cavalry did as much damage as possible while trying to disengage. The orks however, had other ideas. Nearly as tired as the human Wizards by their efforts and the draw from Ter'Zhull as he fought of whoever dared attack him, they were still more numerous, and they joined their powers together and tainted the land itself. Turf and firm ground turned into a rank quagmire that sucked at the hooves of the cavalry and slowed them. In the command tent, Anastona saw what had happened, and he knew despair. Without their mobility, the cavalry were vulnerable and the orks knew it. If the orks destroyed the cavalry, any hope of withdrawal would go out the window, and they would all die here. * * * * * * * * * * * * It wasn't exactly true that Andy and the Bladedancers were in a trance. It was more accurate to say that they were elsewhere. They were well aware of what was transpiring on the field, and it drove them to an intensity that can hardly be described. The surprise they had achieved had been complete, but even better was the fact that they had caught the shaman while in the middle of a spell when they mind is most vulnerable. Andy had Ter'Zhull on the defensive from the get go, and only the shaman warlord's greater experience and training had allowed him to survive the onslaught. Even so, he was loosing, and he knew it. The gestalt had never imagined it might actually overwhelm and destroy Ter'Zhull, but that now seemed the likely outcome. The power he could call was decreasing as the ork warriors died and the shamans expended their power on their spells. If they could destroy Ter'Zhull here, the invasion would be broken! Then it happened. The cavalry became trapped, and the orks began to break through the lines. The reserves, which had gotten into place, stopped the break in for a time, but it wouldn't last. Andy felt Ter'Zhull's defenses begin to crumble, and knew that with a concentrated push, he could be inside the ork's defenses and destroy his mind. But if he did that the orks would have time to get fully into the rear area and the army would die. Andy made his choice, gathered his power and struck. * * * * * * * * * * * * Anastona saw the end clearly. If they hadn't sent the rest of Host to prepare the fall back position, or if he had held back the War Wizards and taken a chance with using the reserves to stop the ork cavalry... But no, it was too late now for what ifs. He raised his head and opened his mouth to order everyone to arms when the world came apart. * * * * * * * * * * * * The method was crude to be sure, but subtlety was a luxury that Andy could not afford. The power of the Gestalt had tossed Ter'Zhull back on his mental heels and left him reeling, as it struck deep into the earth below the battle. Andy reached into the stones deep down and wrenched with all the mystical might as his command. With a shriek of tortured stone, Andy tore the earth asunder, ripping open a yawning chasm in the midst of the streaming Horde. Horses screamed, men and orks bellowed as they were thrown to the ground, and hundreds fell into the tear in that steadily widened. Orks, abandoning weapons, climbed to their feet and fled in shear terror and the soldiers let them go, too frightened to pick themselves up from the ground. Heat rose from the chasm as rock, energized by the power that had seized it began to melt. Tremors rocked the army to its core, and even the orks that had not yet been involved in the fighting, turned and fled back into the forest. The Gestalt dissolved as the sum of their power was expended in the act of moving such a titanic mass. Bladedancers collapsed, almost all of them unconscious, as their link unraveled. Andy found himself on his back gasping in shock. Weakly, he reached out to grab the nearest attendant. "Send word to General Anastona to begin the withdrawal." He gasped before he passed out. "Of course Your Highness." Nathan said quietly, stroking Andy's forehead until he fell unconscious. * * * * * * * * * * * E'rin looked over the reports which I'olias had brought him. Andy's force had retreated in good order to the fall back point, largely due to the gaping chasm that had persuaded the orks that there were better places for them to be. E'rin had to agree that his belshatha's decision to save his men instead of killing Ter'Zhull was the correct choice. While it might have brought an end to THAT warlord, the whole encampment would have been wiped out, and the Horde would most likely have gone on without Ter'Zhull. They would have been less dangerous, but still enough of a threat to cause years of damage. Not to mention the conflict that would have erupted in the Kingdom of Man to select a new King. Perhaps it was selfish in a way. E'rin was simply glad that Andy had survived, but he was honest enough to admit that to himself. In his heart, the fact that it gave everyone a fighting chance at victory was secondary. Such love is scary. But for now, at least, there is a future. * * * * * * * * * * * * Well, there it is. The first major battle of the war between orks and everyone else is over and everyone got hammered. War is like that sometimes. I hope you all enjoyed this. It took me awhile to get the battle mapped out in my head and described. I have been, um... distracted recently. :) Corey.