Date: Thu, 19 Feb 2004 12:25:53 -0600
From: Corey Perez <cperez@gmotion.com>
Subject: Eternal Dream-19 (Gay,male,Fantasy)series

	Battles are hard to write because you have to have all the details
right or it just reads like crap and doesn't make any sense.

	It's taken me a long time to get this far with the story because I
have to work these battles out in my head, or with miniatures (The power of
geekdom!) and then figure out how I am going to describe them in a way that
lets you see what I do.

	I'm really not sure that I've managed to do that with what I have
here, but my only other choice is to go over it again and again, and I
don't think anyone wants to wait any longer than they absolutely have to
for this chapter, so here it is.

	Let me know what you think.

	Cperez@gmotion.com 2/17/2004

* * * * * * * * * * * *

	There is darkness and light in all mortal beings.

	It is this eternal struggle between our brightest hopes and our
darkest urges that defines whether or not we are good people.

	Evil is not in your nature brothers, it is only in what you choose.

-------- Teachings of Korak'Zhull

* * * * * * * * * * * *

	The sound of gentle music wafted through the corridors of the Zhull
Monastery.  Robed figures moved with silent grace, going about their chores
with an air of serenity.  Some moved amongst the plants in the meditation
gardens, tending to their charges with loving attention, while others knelt
nearby in silent contemplation.

	The fields were a place of focused energy as monks worked the land
that provided the Monastery's staple foods.  Still more tended to the
vineyards that allowed the Monastery to produce the finest wines known in
the Kingdom of Man.  With the funds from the sale of these wines, the monks
were able to purchase other necessities, as well as send out occasional
missions of mercy to help those in need.

	The monks were not human however.  The Zhull Monastery had always
been the home of orks.  Half-orks to be more precise, each having come from
their homes and family to learn to make the most of who and what they were:
Shamans.

	Most came from the rescued victims of ork raids, children born of
rape who had risen above the calling of their orkish blood.  Many others
were shamans who left their tribes because they just did not fit into the
blood-soaked society of their fellow orks.  Some few of the brethren were
the children of willing marriages.  Varied though their pasts might be, all
shared a common goal and ambition.  It was their hope to redeem their
people and free them from the hellish existence that the Dark God had
condemned them to.  Until that goal was accomplished, they would not allow
their people to sweep away the world into Kerlack's dark hell.

	The chores of the day were performed with special care, for they
were a form of goodbye. Only the humans who lived and worked at the
Monastery would remain behind when the brethren departed.  Each of them
knew that the time had come to protect the world that was left, and hoped
that they could save their people in the process.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

	Nathan found himself once more in the presence of the woman he
hated above all others.  His face bore a bruise on the left side from what
looked to be a fist driven into his cheek, and his eyes were burning with a
cold hate.  He was sure that the moron in front of him would naturally
assume that hatred was for Andy, who had struck him the night before when
he had loudly, and publicly dismissed the young Nathan from his service, so
he felt safe expressing it this once.

	The hate felt good, it warmed him deep inside and fought off the
chill that touched his soul whenever he reminded himself of the terribly
dangerous position he was in.  Prince E'rin, in sympathy for Nathan, had
taken the boy into HIS service almost as soon as Andy had dismissed him.
If the truth came out about what was going on, and the part he had to play
in all of it, his life would be worth less than nothing.  He would never
live long enough to regret whatever mistake he made.  This hateful woman
would see to that.

	At the moment however, Baroness duPre' seemed to be delighted with
Nathan.  His appearance suggested that he had evoked deep and painful
emotions when he unleashed his plan to split the royal couple.  The plan,
as Nathan had explained it, was to convince Prince E'rin that Andy,
sexually frustrated by his inability to have sex with his "true love", had
seduced the innocent young serving boy who had, of course, fallen deeply in
love with his charismatic Lord.  While it wouldn't be enough to end their
relationship, once they grew more attuned to their bond they would learn
the truth of it eventually, it would delay the development of that bond
long enough to allow Ter'Zhull to seize them and complete his plans.

	So far, no more than rumors were circulating amongst the troops.
The royal couple had taken great pains the following morning to appear
happy and relaxed, but the experienced politicians amongst the Court sensed
a subtle tension on both Princes that worried them.

	Upon his arrival in her quarters, Nathan had informed the Baroness
that Kings C'ominar and Kail were in conference, presumably discussing how
to handle the situation.  The news delighted the duPre' and she had been
gushing all over Nathan for his successes.

	The whole process sickened him, but silently Nathan swore to
himself that when he brought the Baroness down for her part in ruining his
family, he would remind her of this moment of triumph and inform her that
it was the beginning of her destruction at his hands.

	"I am glad I have pleased you My Lady."  He said, forcing a
pleasant tone to his voice.  "I trust that your end of the arrangement is
in order."

	The Baroness waved off the comment casually.  "Oh of course, I have
arranged for your lands to be returned to your family.  I have informed
your... mother of the arrangement so that your factor can begin to take up
the administration."  She shrugged casually.  It wasn't as if those lands
were hers anyway and it tacked another noble family onto her entourage of
followers, willing and not.  "You will need to continue here of course."
She said causally.  "We can't afford to have them start talking to each
other and straightening things out now can we?"  Lady duPre' asked with a
cruel smile.  'Besides,' she thought to herself 'the little queer needs to
stay around so that he can be killed along with the people of this city
when Ter'Zhull overruns the defenses.'  The Baroness was a firm believer in
covering her tracks.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

	The Kings of both elf and man departed the following day, along
with most of the Royal Court.  Kail publicly declared Andy not only Heir,
but Regent as well and stated that he was returning to Anathulsula to
recover, leaving the affairs of the realm in Andy's capable hands.

	E'rin and Andy maintained an outward cordiality, but never got
close to each other, nor did they address each other directly.  Baroness
duPre' practically gloated as she watched from her position near the docks.
She had resisted suggestions that she should depart with the Court,
claiming that she should be here to observe and insure that an "objective"
account was kept of the fighting.

	C'ominar had attempted to leave Asane'ta K'sha behind with E'rin,
but the Prince had demurred saying that it would be needed to protect
El'Analon if they failed here.  A situation that duPre' thought to be a
virtual certainty.  The night before, she had informed Ter'Zhull of the
situation and he was in the process of bringing in his reinforcement so
that he could commit to his assault.

	It was only an hour after the Kings' departure that the monks
arrived.  The Baroness had no idea of who they were until one of the Border
Knights, flattered at the seeming interest of a noble lady, had explained
to her the monk's origins.  He had smiled in understanding as her upper lip
curled in distain at learning that they were half orks, but he could not
have known that her contempt was due to what she perceived as treason on
the part of the orks.  She found the creatures to be disgusting, but she
could not tolerate apostasy to God.  Those who turned from the Lord would
have to be made to repent before they were cleansed.

	The heretics' leader was shown into the Royal Pavilion and the
Prince's advisors were summoned.  The Baroness was not invited, but she was
sure that she would find out what was discussed.  Their plans would all be
for naught.

	No one could defy the One True God.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

	The ork Abbot was old, REALLY old.  One normally did not get to see
how orks aged, as their own tribes killed them when their age began to slow
them down and they became a drag on the others.  What's more, the Abbot
was, like all of his brethren, a Shaman.  But unlike the shamans amongst
the feral orks, the monks could act as a true Gestalt, just as the elvin
Bladedancers could, but with all the focus of a single will.

	For the first several hours of their audience the gentle Abbot,
whose voice was calming like the sound of a running brook, explained to the
Princes and their advisors how the monks had spent centuries bringing
together both their powers as orks, but the distant heritage of their elf
ancestors as well.  The result was deeply impressive.

	"We have made considerable progress on the static defenses, as well
as contingency planning on handling the assault."  Andy told the Abbot.

	It had taken a bit of time for Andy to work on the idea of fall
back plans.  The experienced leaders, who served as his advisors, had
explained to him how no plan would survive contact with the enemy for long.
They explained to him what had occurred in the first battle, which he had
spent fighting Ter'Zhull, and pointed out how the unexpected ork cavalry
had seriously disrupted their battle plan.  Andy had responded by
explaining Murphy's Law to them.  Once they agreed that the Demon Murphy
was a universal constant, they labored to come up with a series of fallback
plans.

	"My interest at this point, is to determine what part you would be
able to play in those plans, and how we can fit you into the existing Chain
of Command."  Andy went on.

	"It is our intention to fight."  The Abbot said in his quiet voice.
"We will help your Host defend the valley Your Highness."  He paused.
"Those of our people who we can help to free themselves of Kerlack we
will."  He sighed in sadness.  "Those we cannot save, must be stopped from
doing further harm, or bringing the world to darkness with them.  We can
destroy them with a clear conscience. "

	Andy considered that for a moment, and then nodded thoughtfully.
"I assume you would prefer NOT to have to kill though?"

	The Abbot bobbed his head in agreement.  "We will do what must be
done, but violence is something that we avoid as it is.... Agreeable to the
darker side of our natures."

	"I understand completely Abbot."  Andy said.  "There are, I'm sure,
plenty of ways that you can use your powers that are not fatal.  In fact,
from what I'm given to understand from my discussions with veterans from
the Border Forts, your people have spells that can effect masses of
individuals, doing no permanent harm, but creating disruptions that will
make them much less effective in combat."  He smiled as the Abbot nodded
thoughtfully.  "I'm not saying that we won't EVER need you to kill, but I
intend to use your powers to increase the effectiveness of my troops while
DECREASING the effectiveness of the Horde as opposed to using you simply to
kill."  He grinned savagely.  "The orks won't be expecting that sort of
assistance, and if you keep your workings subtle they most likely won't
figure it out for some time."

* * * * * * * * * * * *

	Sir Kendrick had been riding with his friend Swift for almost 5
years now.  Kendrick had been fascinated by griffins ever since he was a
small boy in Hereon, and as soon as he was able, he had joined the service
of the Sky Knights working in the Aerie, tending to the needs of the on
duty griffins.  Eventually his talents in working with the adults, coupled
with his small size, got him moved to working with hatchlings.

	It was there that he had met with Swift.  The youngling griffin and
the boy had become fast friends.  When Swift reached adulthood, it was
determined that his small, lean body was not suited to the combat arms.
Instead, Swift was trained to work as a scout.  Speed and stealth as well
as keen vision and a good memory were important, and Swift excelled at his
training.

	Much to his surprise and delight, Kendrick had been assigned to be
Swift's rider and partner due to his short stature and slight weight.  For
over five years they had flown together in the service of the Border
Knights before Kendrick had won his spurs of Knighthood.  The pair had
become one of the most effective partnerships in the Sky Knights and they
were used primarily for long-range scouting.

	For three days now, the pair had been keeping tabs on a significant
force of orks moving through the Elvin Forest, most likely to reinforce the
Horde encamped at the mouth of the pass that the Host was guarding.

	Skirting the bottom of the clouds, Kendrick could see for miles and
Swift's keen vision allowed him to keep track of losses amongst his targets
so that he could keep a general count of the force.

	Flying was the most exhilarating thing that Kendrick could imagine.
In fact, he preferred to be out in the wilds on the back of his best friend
than even in the arms of some pretty woman back at the Aerie.  Over the
years, Kendrick had learned to rely on his instincts in the field, and
those instincts served him well when they screamed at him to dive.  Without
hesitation, Swift angled down toward the ground as a massive, clawed paw
reached out of the clouds for Sir Kendrick.

	The grasping appendage missed him by so close a margin that he felt
the pressure of it in passing as it snatched nothing but empty air and a
couple of Swift's tail feathers.  An enraged bellow shattered the quiet as
the owner of that paw came tearing out of the clouds in pursuit.

	Fear snatched at Kendrick's soul as he saw what had almost claimed
his life.

	A Dragon.

	No one had seen a dragon in living human memory, but the tactical
doctrine for dealing with these beasts was well established.  Dragons were
often slightly slower than a griffin, but had vastly greater endurance and
patience.  In groups, griffins would use their superior maneuverability and
climbing ability to swarm a dragon under and force it to retreat since they
were rarely able to actually kill one.  In smaller numbers they were to use
those advantages to escape.

	The dragon came screaming after them in a dive angled to intercept
them as Swift leveled out to get a grip on the situation.  The griffin
snapped over in a tight turn at the last minute, causing the dragon to go
barreling past them, snatching futilely at his elusive prey.

	"Up" Kendrick murmured to his friend.  The puffy clouds might very
well allow them to lose their pursuer he hoped as the pair climbed higher
into the air.

	The cold touch of the clouds shocked calm into Kendrick's frantic,
fear filled thoughts.  He was thankful the charm he wore allowed him to
breath normally in the rarified air and knew that he would have to report
this soon, just in case they weren't able evade their pursuer.  Kendrick's
head broke through the clouds and his eyes widened in shock.  MORE dragons
flew in majestic formation above him, making their way towards the ork
Horde.

	The shriek of frustration that came from below alerted the flying
force to his presence as the first dragon burst into view behind them.  The
other dragons turned into dives that would allow them to surround Kendrick,
and in his heart he knew there was no other choice.

	"Play Dead!"  He shouted above the ruckus.

	Swift responded instantly, doing a snap dive, and then pulling in
his wings as he took them into a terminal dive.

	The damp chill of the cloud reminded him of how close he was to
death at this moment as he and his friend dove straight for the ground.
The dragons tore after them as they desperately made their way toward the
questionable safety of the forest.

	With a silent prayer to Destreda, Kendrick activated his bloodstone
sphere and began his report.  "Base, this is Recon 3-1.  Acknowledge."

	After only a second or two a reply came.  "Recon 3-1 this is base,
go ahead."

	Kendrick took a deep breath as the ground swelled in his vision.
"Base, be advised I have spotted upwards of 6, repeat 6 dragons on a course
for the valley.  Acknowledge."

	Silence answered him for a moment before another voice took the
place of the first.  "Confirm that Recon 3-1!"  The voice snapped.

	"I say again, upwards of 6 dragons en route to the valley Base."
Kendrick shouted over the rushing wind.  "We are currently being pursued
by, " he turned to look back and get a quick count "4 dragons.  We are
attempting to go to ground and evade them."

	"Acknowledged."  The voice says.  "Thank you Recon 3-1, I owe you
one.  Good luck and the blessings of the gods be upon you."

	"Thanks base, Recon 3-1 clear."  Kendrick's mouth split in a
death's head grin. "Well my friend, " he said as he shut down the sphere
"it looks like we are in for the ride of our life!"

	He felt Swift shiver in agreement as his defiant call followed them
into the top of the tree line.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

	"Damn."  Andy said quietly.

	"A fair assessment Highness."  General Anastona agreed.  "I have
already sent extra troops to the forward defenses, they are prepared to
engage in a fighting retreat."  He paused and gestured towards the map
table.  "The orks have shown no sign of advancing yet, but I can only
assume they are waiting for the arrival of the dragons before beginning.
If at all possible I would like to get them to kick off early and wear them
down on the fight over the pass.  If our troops are caught in there, they
will be easy targets for the dragons."

	"The only other alternative would be to abandon our defense in
depth and take them head on against our walls."  Andy said with a shrug.
"I don't think we're ready, but it's not really up to me at this point is
it?"  A slight, nervous, chuckle ran around the command tent.  "How far
along are we on the grenades and cocktails?"  He asked.

	Earlon spoke up quickly.  "We have approximately 300 grenades, not
counting those used in the cocktails."  He shrugged.  "We can continue to
make more as the battle goes on, since we are really only using specialists
on them anyway.  As far as the cocktails go, we have managed to get the
full load of 500 that you requested Highness."

	Andy grunted in satisfaction and turned back to Anastona.  "What's
the status on our preparations here?"  He asked.

	"Marshal O'meneri is out there now organizing what we have
available.  He has brought out about a dozen of the ballista you inspired
and has them under cover as you ordered."

	"Baron Aram, do we still have the dragons under observation?"  He
asked turning to the commander of the Sky Knights.

	"Yes Highness."  He said quietly.  "I have further instructed them
to distract the dragons and to attempt to delay them as much as possible.
Regardless of their success in that, we will know precisely when they will
arrive."

	"Any word on Sir Kendrick?"  Andy asked.  He was concerned about
the brave scout that had brought word of the coming danger.

	"No Highness."  The Baron said quietly.  "I will keep you informed
if we hear anything."

	Andy nodded again, and then straightened his shoulder.  "Alright
then gentlemen, let us get down to the details."

* * * * * * * * * * * *

	"I hate humans."  Ter'Zhull spat.  He saw the humans massing troops
shouted taunts at his warriors, and just KNEW that it was going to wreck
his carefully laid plans.  In ill humor, he watched Kotar approach him.
The War-Chief's eyes were like stone; to anyone who knew him it was obvious
he was frustrated and angry.

	"Great One, I think we will have to launch our assault early."
Kotar said, anger grating his voice.

	"The Ash and his underlings are not here yet, we need to wait for
them."  Ter'Zhull said.

	"I agree with you Great One, but it's the warriors."  Kotar
gestured at the massed orks who were even now readying themselves for
battle.  "You know as well as I do that they are going to want to attack
NOW.  The humans are baiting us, but if they keep on with this our warriors
are going to attack whatever we do.  If we lead them into it, at least we
will be able to maintain a semblance of control."

	Ter'Zhull snarled in anger.  "I know."  He said after a moment.
"Perhaps you are right, get ready to..."

	What the Shaman was about to say died on his lips as he saw the
human troops pull longbows out and sent a long-range volley into his
warriors before withdrawing behind their defenses.

	"Shit!"  Kotar said feelingly as the shafts rose into the air.

	The volley was not likely to be particularly accurate at this
range, nor was it likely to kill many soldiers, but it wasn't necessary in
this case.  As the arrows rained from the sky, some warriors were wounded,
and a few of the unlucky ones were killed outright but the greatest effect
it had was to enrage the Horde.

	Exactly as the human officers had intended all along.

	Ter'Zhull swore as his warriors roared in rage and surged after the
humans.  He saw Kotar sprinting to catch his troops and try to keep some
semblance of order, but knew deep down that was unlikely.  He had intended
to use the dragons to sweep the pass so that his force could advance
unhindered and then use them in support of his final assault.  That plan
was now defunct, and he was going to have to fight his way down the entire
length of the pass, bleeding warriors every step of the way.

	He closed his eyes to calm himself as he reached onto the end of
his staff and caressed the crystal there.  It was time to open his self to
the soul trapped within, for he would need its power if he encountered the
Gestalt again.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

	"They've gone for it Your Highness."  Anastona said with quiet
satisfaction.

	"So it would seem."  Andy said.  He was once more girded with the
armor his spell created, and his swords were tucked at his side.  "You know
what to do here General, I'm heading for the wall."

	Anastona saw the Paladin's amongst the Prince's guard go stiff at
the declaration.  "Highness that might not be the best idea."

	Andy smiled grimly.  "It's necessary."  He held up a hand to
forestall any arguments.  "You can direct the battle without me, and the
men on the wall will need a symbol to maintain morale.  We aren't pulling
back this time, so it's for all the marbles."  He shrugged.  "Besides, if
their shamans try anything funny, I will be in a position to cut them off
at the knees."  He grinned as he laid his left hand on his sword hilts.
"Possibly even literally."

	Anastona looked into Andy's eyes and saw the intransigence there.
He knew this was one argument he had lost from the beginning, so all he
could do is bow out gracefully and try to remind the Heir not to get his
fool head bashed in.

	"Just try not to die Highness."  Anastona said quietly.  "You'd
kill the morale of this army and the King would have my head on a silver
platter."

	"Oh, I don't think you need to worry about that."  Andy said
cheerfully.  "If I get killed, we will probably have already been over run,
so the orks will take care of that little detail."  He reached out and
slapped the general on his shoulder.  "See, there's a bright side to
everything."

	Anastona shook his head as Andy turned to walk out of the command
tent, followed closely by his guards.

	Andy waved to the troops and civilians who were helping the
defenders as he went passed.  Frequently he would pause to speak to a group
of soldiers, encouraging some, giving advice or orders to others.  Each
soldier who spoke with him was left with the subtle effect of both the
magic that Andy wove over himself which lent each soldier a stiffening of
his or her resolve and confidence.  As he ascended the wall, he looked out
over the busy preparation for defense that his people were engaged in.

	A slight smile touched his lips as he considered how this place had
changed his life.  Perhaps more accurately gave him a life of his own.  His
thoughts were interrupted by the voice at his side.

	"Why am I not surprised to find you here?" E'rin said coolly.

	Andy shrugged.  "It is where I am needed."

	"Then it is where I am needed as well."  He met Andy's gaze as his
husband's gaze snapped around to look at him.  "They need to see us
together, and I will do my duty to you."

	Andy's lips thinned in displeasure as he looked at the elf he
married only a day before.  He knew damn well that there was no way to get
E'rin to leave unless he left as well.  He sighed in resignation and
nodded.

	"Thank you."  He said with quiet sadness.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

	Despite himself, Ter'Zhull felt the exhilaration of battle fill
him.  He was even more excited at the report of his agents from the human
camp.  The two princes had married (who was to know that the fake was no
fake at all?), and a plan executed by the reporting spy had succeeded in
creating a rift between the couple that would destroy their harmony and
deny them access to the power that the Cycle would normally have lent them.

	And when he took them, he would take their souls and he would be
elevated above all others.  "This world is God's!"  He shouted in
excitement.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

	The orks approach was, to say the least, unimaginative.  They
simply rushed the humans headlong without the slightest thought in their
anger-fogged brains about the possible consequences of such rash action.  A
storm of arrows hit them short of the human defense lines, slowing the
Horde slightly while filling them with greater fury.  The survivors roared
their rage and charged right into the caltrops that the humans had dropped
in the Horde's path as they retreated.

	The sharp implements slowed the lead groups dramatically as the
pain of their spikes lamed the warriors.  None of this stopped the
following orks, who pushed the comrades ahead of them in an unstoppable
tide.  These wounded orks were the first to discover that sharpened stakes
do, in fact, hurt when you find yourself driven onto them by the press of
bodies behind you.

	The screams of the lead orks were drown out by the overwhelming
roar of the Horde as they were pushed further onto those terrible defenses.
All the while the human behind the spikes began thrusting their long spears
into any of those who tried to climb over their less fortunate comrades to
reach the human lines.

	Blood soaked the ground, which had turned into a gore filled mud
under the trampling feet of the orks, not that they paid it much attention,
as they pressed onward.

	As the spearmen held the front, the Archers had already withdrawn
behind the next series of barricades that were already manned by the
reserve infantry.  At a relayed message passed by the bloodstone that each
archer wore, the group fired a massed volley over the heads of the humans
holding back the orks.

	When that rain of arrows descended on the warriors, their front
ranks evaporated like mist as the storm of projectiles cut them down.  The
infantry finished off those who were still nearby, and then on command
retreated back to the third barricade as the archers covered their
withdrawal.

	This fighting retreat was repeated over and over as the humans drew
the orks deeper into the pass.  The strategy behind the retreat had been to
ensure that the orks would follow them unto the wall itself, where the REAL
battle would begin.  There, they would have the mountains to ensure that
there could be no flank attack, and the defenses layered into the pass
would prevent the orks from making use of any cavalry they might have left.

	So far the tactic seemed to be working, and the soldiers in the
pass were of two minds as to whether or not that was a good thing.
Unfortunately, their opinion of the situation was unlikely to persuade the
orks to find their entertainments elsewhere, so they went about the
business of seeing to it that their visitors continued to be amused.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

	Anastona swore feelingly as the map reflected the scouts' reports.
The orks were only 3/4 of the way down the pass and company was coming.

	"Your Highness, the lead dragon will be here in less 10 minutes and
our scouts are reporting that ork reinforcements have begun speeding up and
will be here within an hour."

	Andy stood upon the wall overlooking the fighting in the pass and
scowled.  "I am trying to decide, and failing, which part of that I like
the least."  He said almost conversationally.  He sighed.  "Very well
general, I had intended to get the people on the wall under cover when our
party crashers showed up, but I think we are going to have to stand out
here to give the critter something more interesting to come after than the
people in the pass."

	"I'm not sure I like that Your Highness."  Anastona said carefully.
"It's been a very long time since we have seen dragons in open combat, we
aren't completely sure what they can do."

	"Gigantic flying lizards with huge teeth, massive claws that can
breathe fire and most likely can use magic."  Andy said, ticking off things
on his fingers.  "I think that about covers it don't you think?"

	He heard Anastona gasp in shock.  "We had legends of dragons in my
world too General."  He said calmly.  "So I'm going to have to assume the
worst and go with my belief that they can do that much at least.  We are
just going to have to work with what we learn as we go along I'm afraid.
In any case, if I start running for cover, imagine what the soldiers are
going to do."

	"Very well Highness."  He heard Anastona sigh.  "Just be careful."

	"I have no intention of being anyone's midday snack General."  Andy
said cheerfully.

	"You would most likely do unfortunate things to the dragon's
digestion in any case."  E'rin said from behind him.

	Andy grinned.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

	Embarosta'kerlon was a proud, some might say arrogant, dragon.
Known casually as Ember, he had a reputation for cruelty in his 'play' with
lesser creatures.

	Truthfully though, Ember was actually fascinated with the behavior
or those lesser creatures.  Before Kerlack had saved Ember, the false god
Omar had assigned him duties gathering information about the social
behavior of the various races.  As much as he knows he resented his
enslavement, the dragon found the actual work itself intriguing.  Once
freed from his oppression, and able to act as he wished, Embarosta'kerlon
had continued, even expanded, his research.

	Even in battle, he studied the reactions of his prey.  He enjoyed
learning more about those he killed and used what he learned to terrifying
effect in each subsequent encounter with others of the same species.

	Humans, he had learned, were likely to be scattered by his mere
presence.  Ashenteriaeon'zhurlon had sent him here to break the human
resistance in order to allow the orks to sweep in and secure the defenses
so that they could reduce this town, and it's inhabitants, to a memory.

	Not being one to waste effort unnecessarily, Ember decided that the
most effective (and convenient) tactic would be a low altitude over fly
that would not require him to fatigue himself while still allowing him to
study the reactions of the humans and elves below.

	As he swept in, his eye caught a figure standing in unusual armor
on the top of the wall.  His keen vision made out the figure, and those
around him, in exquisite detail.  It seemed obvious that this was an
important individual, possibly even one of the two princes that he had been
warned to leave unharmed.  As he approached, he took note of an elf
standing nearby, with a strong contingent of professional looking elves
standing watchfully around.

	These then would almost certainly be both of the aforementioned
princes, and Ember silently congratulated himself on choosing an excellent
tactic from the outset.

	Silently, he hummed a tune to himself as he dived in for a close
flyby.  It was then that he caught notice of the movement going on behind
the wall.  Bemused by this odd behavior, Ember wondered what they were up
to.

	The answer he got was unexpected to say the least.

	The ground crews had been forewarned about the dragon's approach,
and they were as ready as they could possibly be.  Their specially designed
gimbals, created by the wizards, allowed them to rotate the massive siege
engines easily, giving them the ability to fire almost directly upwards if
they chose.  Grimly, the siege engineers brought their weapons to bear,
each hoping desperately that the Prince was right about their
effectiveness.

	A deep instinctive warning shot through Ember as he flew over the
wall.  A great sense of personal danger, the likes of which he had never
felt before assailed him, telling him that there was great danger on the
ground.  His natural reaction to this instinct, a hold over from their data
gathering abilities granted to dragons by Omar when he created them, was to
pull up and climb for the sky.  It was the worst thing he could possibly
have done.

	As the crews watched, hoping for a good shot, the dragon pulled up
sharply and began clawing for altitude.  The low glide that had carried him
over the wall prevented Ember from gaining any altitude quickly and served
only to make him what amounted to a stationary target for the humans who
already had him in their sights.

	Virtually simultaneously the six-readied ballista fired.  The first
bolt was fired in surprise, and passed completely under the dragon and
embedded itself into the breastwork of the wall, barely missing a shocked
soldier who was too awestruck by the dragon to notice his near miss.  The
second and third bolts penetrated the dragon's wings.  One tore a ragged
hole in the right wing, while the other lodged itself deep in the joint
where the wing met the body.  This paralyzed the wing and drew the dragon
into a clumsy looped dive.

	The fourth bolt struck the dragon in the abdomen, tearing into the
stomach wall, unleashing the volatile stomach acid into the dragon's body
cavity.  The fifth struck the right breastplate that guarded the dragon's
heart.  At such a close range, the spring steel launched bolt punched
through that tough armor as if it were tissue paper, barely grazing the
dragon's heart as it blew out Ember's back.

	A crew that had been utterly unable to get its weapon properly
adjusted fired the final bolt.  Had the dragon maintained it's previous
course, they would have missed it cleanly as the weapon's elevation was too
high.  The dragon's maneuver had taken then completely surprised them, and
they failed to compensate when they fired.

	Dragon bones are, by weight, amongst the hardest substances ever
created.  Even at such close range and with such high velocity, it would be
highly unlikely that the bolt would have penetrated the dragon's skull.  As
it happened however, Ember's desperate climb opened an opportunity for a
clean shot at his jaw, which is exactly where the misaimed bolt went.

	Much like in a human, the lower part of a dragon's jaw is not bone.
It is comprised of cartilage and various other soft tissues.  Neither of
these was at all likely to stop the bolt, which caught Ember cleanly in the
jaw where the jaw met his neck.  The angle of the bolt carried it deep into
the dragon's skull, ripping into Ember's brain as it penetrated.  When it
encountered the top of the dragon's skull, the steel tip shattered against
its hard surface, blowing shards back into the brain, shredding it
completely.

	Combined with the crippled wing, the blow to the head snapped the
dragon back over, driving the corpse that had once been Embarosta'kerlon
face first into the ground.

* * * * * * * * * * *

	A massive cheer rose from the assembled troops as the shock of the
incredible feat wore off.  They had slain a Dragon!

	Andy's shoulders slumped as he sighed in relief.  He had been
sickened at the thought of what the dragon would do to the men he had
intentionally left exposed on the wall.  The fact that the dragon had been
slain without the loss of a single soldier was a special miracle for which
he would always be grateful.

	Smiling grimly, Andy fixed the mempo of the armor into place,
enclosing his head almost completely in the fearsome demon face that the
mempo formed.  He activated the bloodstone in his helmet and addressed the
Host.  "All right people, the fun's over.  It's time to get down to the
business of killing orks!"

* * * * * * * * * * * *

	Shock was a pale, anemic word to describe what Ter'Zhull felt at
that moment.

	The exultation he had felt at the sight of the dragon swooping down
from the sky toward the human defenses was now a distant memory.  The
anticipation of the terrific carnage that only a dragon was capable of had
burned his soul with the desire to see the humans pay for daring to stand
in his way.

	He noticed the dragon pull up suddenly, and then pitch backwards to
fly straight into the ground.  It was then that the entire battle started
to come apart on him.  It was impossible for the warriors to NOT notice the
dragon's sudden demise.  No one could fail to notice the majestic creature
as it glided over the pass any more than they could miss the titanic tremor
that passed through the ground as the twitching corpse of that same dragon
slammed into the ground seconds after it had passed the human walls.

	Normally, orks aren't unduly burdened by such unimportant matters
as danger, tactical problems, or the mortality of people around them.  They
gleefully ride the tide of a berserk frenzy that is only broken by
exhaustion, death, or a direct threat to their own survival.  In the case
of the large wall the humans had built, the charging orks were faced with
something large, imposing, and apparently capable of swatting dragons out
of the air with contemptuous ease.

	In a quantum leap in forward thinking for their species, the vast
majority of the Horde realized that anything that could smash a dragon so
quickly would not find them to be much of a challenge either.  Such a
direct, personal danger quickly snapped the orks out of their frenzy and
several of the Horde began to remember urgent appointments elsewhere.

	It started slowly.  At first, the Horde slowed, then stopped
completely.  As the implications of the dragon's demise sank in, combined
with the unabated storm of arrows coming from the humans (the fact that the
humans didn't seem shocked by the outcome only heightened their fear) began
to convince many to find their entertainment elsewhere.  More and more
warriors began to retreat, following the example of their fellows.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

	"Damn."  Andy said softly as his bloodstone activated.

	"This is a problem Highness."  General Anastona said.  "As good for
morale as driving the orks off would be, it would only give them time to
reorganize and recover."

	"I know."  Andy said quietly.  "After all the men have done to wear
them down it seems a shame to waste all that effort."  He sighed.  "It's
against my better judgment, but we may have no choice but to sally forth
and harry them into the ground."

	"The defenses which kept them from deploying cavalry will work
against us as well."  Anastona reminded him.  "We'd have to do it with
infantry."

	Andy nodded.  "Yes, and if the orks suddenly got their shit
together there would be no way we could retreat back here."

	Marshal O'meneri broke in.  "I think we should stand fast and see
what the orks do.  I have the utmost confidence that Ter'Zhull will be able
to rally his warriors quickly and herd them into the trap for us.  He has
to know that the dragons are almost here, and I don't think they would be
too happy to see his troops retreating and leaving all the work to them."

	Andy looked at E'rin, who returned his gaze with expressionless
eyes and shrugged.  "Alright then, let's just hold for now.  I don't like
the idea of how long this is going to make the war drag out, but I agree we
don't want to hang our main field force out to twist in the breeze either."

	Anastona acknowledged the decision and excused himself to pass
orders to the officers.

	Andy quietly cursed the Demon Murphy.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

	Kotar strode up to Ter'Zhull who was still reeling in shock.

	"Great One!"  He shouted.  Seeing no response from his leader, the
War Chief took a great risk and shook Ter'Zhull's shoulder.  "GREAT ONE!"

	Anger and outrage snapped Ter'Zhull from his trance, eyes filled
with the promise of death snapped toward Kotar.  Realizing that the War
Chief was only bringing him to his senses, Ter'Zhull shook his head to
clear his mind.  "Thank you Kotar."

	"Great One, the Horde is beginning to flee."  Kotar said.  "You
must decide if we are to retreat and regroup, or try to rally the warriors
and continue the assault."

	Ter'Zhull looked at his senior war leader.  "What would you do
Kotar?"  He asked.

	Kotar sighed, and looked at the slowly disintegrating Horde.  "I
would retreat for now Great One.  The morale of our warriors is shot and we
need time to get them back into shape.  You can use this an object lesson
of why they should hold themselves back until you release them to battle as
well."  He shrugged.  "On the downside, it is quite possible you won't be
able to ever get them to come back here again.  The memory of what just
happened isn't likely to fade from the mind of even the dimmest of our
warriors."  Again he shrugged.

	"If we rally the troops, can we still take this place?"  Ter'Zhull
asked.

	Kotar considered that for a moment, and then nodded slowly.  "Yes
Great One, I think we can, but the casualties will most likely be
catastrophic at this point."

	"The problem is that the dragon which just came to a very bad end
before our eyes, is only the scout for the rest of them."  He saw Kotar nod
in acknowledgement.  "Ashenteriaeon'zhurlon would be... unhappy if he
arrived and saw us in retreat, and he is likely to express his discontent
by attacking our warriors."  He sighed.  "I could kill them of course, but
that would only be doing the humans a favor.  I don't think we have much
choice but to rally and continue the attack."

	Kotar grimaced in disgust.  He had been against calling in the
dragons here in the first place.  He had felt that they would be better
used working over the fortress city of Hereon while they finished off the
field force here.  Unfortunately, Ter'Zhull wanted the head of those who
had been behind the battle on the Meredo plains and he wasn't going to take
no for an answer.

	"As you command Great One."  He saluted.  "I will need your help,
and the help of the Shamans to rally the warriors."

	Ter'Zhull nodded.  "I will show them that they should fear both
myself and God more than they fear any human."
	"As you say Great One."  Kotar said as he turned to go about his
duty.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

	The ork's idea of discipline was simple and direct, even if it was
a bit... extreme.

	The Shaman's used their power to lash at the orks who were bound to
them, driving them back to the battle.  For those who were more resistant
to this gentle persuasion, the Shaman's used more graphic examples.

	Some of those who continued to flee ran into clouds of toxins that
were woven from thin air.  Other's found their bodies filled with
incredible agony, while some simply exploded into a shower of blood and
body parts.  Not only did the Shaman's indiscriminately unleash their power
on their own warriors, they made it painfully obvious that they were just
as willing to slaughter their own people as the human's were.

	The watching human troops were appalled by the methods that the
shamans used to control their troops.  It would have been even more
appalling if they knew that it was common.  It was only the draconian
methods that the shamans used to keep power and the tribal wars that kept
the insane ork birth rates from overwhelming the entire continent.

	It was effective though, and the warriors recoiled from the fury of
their shamans.  Slowly, the Shamans managed to browbeat the warriors into
returning to battle, even if it was with far less enthusiasm than before.
Fear is an effective goad, but not a great motivator.

	Fortunately for the humans, the ork warriors were far more timid in
their assaults and human casualties dropped dramatically while the ork
losses mounted faster than before.

	Eventually, the battle line made it's way to the wall itself, and
the humans, supported by a storm of fire from the walls, disengaged from
their opponents, and withdrew through the gates to the dubious safety of
the walls.  The orks, still hesitant with the image of the dead dragon
firmly in mind, declined to attempt pursuit.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

	Andy watched calmly as the last of the soldiers made it through the
gate, and the massive stone block was guided into place by the power of the
wizards assigned that duty.  With a resounding boom, the block locked into
it's slot, securely plugging the only entryway through the wall that
blocked off the pass.

	"Alright gentlemen."  Andy said as he activated a general broadcast
sphere.  "We need to be about this quickly.  This is not going to be a
siege.  We are going to lure the orks into attacking, and we are going to
smash them here and now, and we need to do it quickly.  There are more orks
coming in support of this group, as well as a few more dragons."  He
grinned fiercely.  "I think you have seen how we'll handle those visitors,
but it's important that we aren't distracted from that minor task by the
orks at the gate."

	Andy heard several of the nearby soldiers chuckle at his comments,
and he allowed himself to join them.  "Alrighty then, let's get to it."

* * * * * * * * * * * *

	It took almost half an hour for Ter'Zhull and his shamans to work
enough magic to boost the courage of his warriors and begin to rekindle the
berserk rage that could drive them forward.  Normally, Ter'Zhull would have
preferred a more organized approach, but at this point it would be enough
to actually get the warriors to fight at all.

	Orders were simple: Charge forward and kill human or elf that gets
in your way.  Scaling ladders were brought forward and drums began to beat.

	The orks charged.

	For a brief moment, Andy felt something akin to guilt over what he
was about to do.  After all, he had formed the basis for the strategy to
lure the orks here, to suck them into the pass and crush them completely.
His sense of guilt was more over the deceit he had perpetrated, for he knew
the orks were expecting a stand up fight, when really all the pass, with
it's multi-layered defenses and bastion at the end was little more than a
terribly elaborate trap.

	He watched the orks charge forward, making sure that everyone
understood that they were not to fire under any circumstances until he
ordered it.  Closer the orks came, in a massive wave of screaming doom,
lusting for the blood of his soldiers.  Then, the front rank passed the
mark he had firmly in mind, and he said a single word of condemnation.
"Fire."

	Andy's quiet command unleashed the most terrible storm of firepower
yet seen.  The ranked archers fired a massed volley, arched to achieve
maximum distance, which placed their attack deep into the charging orks.
The volley was on its way down with the forty arbalests fired.  Twelve
HUNDRED, 3 food long shafts, driven by the spring steel launcher, flew
forth from the rifled firing ports in the wall.  The riffling that the
wizards had built into the wall imparted a spin on the bolts as they passed
through.  Andy had been shocked to discover just how much the people here
understood the basics of ballistics without ever having even conceived of
firearms.  Those spinning bolts reached their maximum velocity just before
they hit the lead ranks of the ork charge.

	The high-speed projectiles tore through those lead orks as if they
were tissue paper.  Passing entirely through their bodies reduced their
velocity, but hardly enough to make any difference to those behind them.
The bolts cut deep into the front wave, washing it away, just as the massed
volley impacted those just behind them.

	The shock of the sudden slaughter of their fellows caused most of
the horde to slow its charge.  Ironically, if they had continued on, they
would have been relatively safe.  As it was, they were sitting directly in
the area the archers had chosen as their target zone.

	The screaming multiplied as those arrow cut down the few survivors
who had begun to flee the murderous fire from the wall as well as those who
had stopped in shock.  Orks fell in piles on the blood-soaked ground.  But
the humans hadn't been content with just that terrible hurricane of fire.

	It was a common spell for wizards who specialized in the working of
Earth magics.  The spell was able to release the potential energy of a
stone in a single, explosive, instant.  Any kind of "stone" could be used,
but the more inert that stone was, the more difficult it was to unleash
it's energy and more inefficient that release wound up being.  The spell
could be placed in the stone, and held the "charge" for several days.  Best
of all, once charged, the stone could be detonated simply by throwing it.

	Coal, it was discovered, was very efficient in it's release of
energy.  The coal released its energy very easily and was completely
consumed in the process.  This made its use in battle limited.  The flash
from its release was too quick and small to affect many people with more
than light flash burns or disorientation.  Eventually though, an apprentice
War Mage speculated on it's uses as an igniter.

	The idea took hold, and rather than lobbing pots of naphtha with
rags stuffed in them to act as "fuses", armies began to put charged coal in
the sealed pots. Launched from catapults, the pots would shatter on impact,
spreading out a fluid that would almost instantly be ignited by the flash
burst of the coal.  This had an advantage during night battles (which were
rare) because the catapults could fire the jars without revealing their
positions with flaming containers.  For practical purposes however, it
wasn't really necessary, so most soldiers just made due with the soaked rag
for an igniter.

	The same apprentice then came up with an even more brilliant idea.
At his suggestion, he took a sizable coal chunk, and covered it in clay,
which he charged when hardened.  Clay is a mostly inert material, so when
the spell went off, virtually all of the clay survived the process
unharmed, if structurally weakened.  The coal however, instantly released
its energy, contained within the weak ceramic shell.  The force of even
this small explosion was enough to shatter the ceramic coating, sending its
sharp fragments out in a deadly burst of shrapnel.

	Over 30 of these grenades launched from catapults behind the wall,
deep into the enemy force.  The long distance allowed the wind resistance
to scatter the falling weapons, so that they achieved a nice spread pattern
right behind the arrow volley.

	The detonation was fairly small, but the effects of those flying
shards were devastating.  Chunks of sharpened clay sliced through flesh
like a storm of razors, frequently crippling as opposed to killing its
victims.  All that remained after that terrible moment was a mass of
screaming orks, slowly bleeding their life out into the already soaked
ground of the abattoir that the humans had made of the pass.

	Terrible as those attacks were, they only killed a small portion of
the huge horde that continued to roll down the pass.  The pounding feet of
the coming forces trampled wounded and dead orks to paste and mixed it with
the dirt to create a grotesque mud that clung to their legs.

	The arbalests had reloading, while the catapults filled their
launch cups with jars of naphtha.  Unlike normal, these jars were very
large, and only half full.  On the suggestion of the Prince, Wizards who
specialized in the use of Air magics filled the empty portions of those
jars with pure oxygen.

	Once the arbalests had fired, the catapults unleashed their cargo
of death on the orks.

	No one had ever considered the idea before.  While they were well
aware of the fact that the fumes from naphtha were actually more
combustible than the liquid itself, they were not actually aware of what
happened with those fumes mixed with oxygen and became spontaneously
ignited.

	Andy had gotten the idea from watching the History Channel's many
military shows, explaining the way various weapons worked.  It was an
episode that described a Fuel-Air device that was behind the idea that they
now used.

	The charged coal in these jars detonated BEFORE impact.  The
release of energy began to vaporize the naphtha that quickly mixed with the
oxygen in the container.  This volatile gas ignited explosively, creating a
blast that vaporized the ceramic container and engulfed the orks in a
holocaust of fire and death.

	The ground itself shook as SIX of these containers detonated at
virtually the same time, tearing massive, ragged holes in the ranks of the
orks.  It flash dried the ground, seared flesh from bone, and blinded and
deafened many others.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

	Ter'Zhull roared in rage and shock as the explosions ripped through
his warriors.  'What magic is this?'  He raged to himself.  'I sensed only
a tiny release of power, nothing that could do such terrible damage!'

	It seemed impossible, and after the dragon, there was no way the
orks were interested in taking on the humans after that massacre.  There
was only one thing to do.

	The supreme leader of the ork nation yelled out a battle cry, and
charged into battle.

	For a few seconds, surprise overwhelmed fear as the warriors saw
their leader charging the enemy.  Hope overwhelmed surprise, and as one,
the orks charged once more.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

	"It's him."  Andy said calmly to no one in particular.

	"Indeed."  E'rin said with equal calm.  "You realize, of course,
that if he dies it will break the back of the Horde.  Without him, they
will fall back into their individual tribes once more."

	"The thought had occurred to me."  Andy replied with a nasty smile.
"Feel like taking a stroll?"  He asked casually, drawing his Katana.

	"After you."  E'rin said, and pulled out a small rod which he had
prepared for just this moment.

	Bladedancers had long ago developed a spell by which they could
surround their swords with an aura of energy.  This aura strengthened the
blade and increased its edge, which allowed them to cleave through their
opponents only effortlessly.

	After many talks with Andy, hearing stories about his world and the
things he found interesting, E'rin had received an inspiration from hearing
about mystic warriors that Andy had called 'Jedi'.  These warriors wielded
a fantastic blade of pure energy that cut through anything it encountered,
yet had no mass.  It occurred to him that if one were to increase the focus
of the spell that strengthened a Bladedancer's sword, and used it WITHOUT
the sword, he might be able to form a blade of pure, mystic energy.  It had
taken a great deal of time and effort, and E'rin had been further hampered
by the fact that he kept the process a secret so as to better surprise
Andy.

	His primary difficulty came from the fact that it originally
required a tremendous amount of his magical power and concentration.  While
using the blade, he was unable to utilize his magic for any other purpose,
which would seriously hamper his abilities in combat.  He had finally
discovered that by channeling the power of his own spirit into it, the
blade became practical.

	He sensed a swell of shock coming from Andy when he activated the
spell.  The surge of energy was accompanied by a tearing snarl of power as
the blade of pure eldritch energy formed in his hands.  His face formed
into an impish grin at the look of astonishment in Andy's eyes as he took
in the golden weapon that E'rin had wrought.  Remembering another detail
that Andy had mentioned in their long talks, E'rin made a comment that
should give credit where credit was due.

	"May the Force be with you."  E'rin said.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

	The soldiers wondered in a corner of their brain if Prince Andy
might be stark raving mad.  His order to sally forth and charge the enemy
had been passed with a voice filled with mirth, and he had followed his own
order by leaping off the wall, followed by his elvin bodyguards and Prince
E'rin, and charged straight into the teeth of the attacking Horde filled
with an unarguable certainty that it was what was needed.

	Frantic orders were passed as General Anastona, Marshal O'meneri
and Lord Dera'Lione cursed the insanity of the act.  Troops were mobilized,
and wizards were summoned to move the massive stone block that served as a
gate.

	Sir Lance had no time to wait for the gate, and he urged
Starstrider into a gallop.  The E'teriel surged forward at top speed,
moving with sure-footed grace up the ramp to the top of the wall and leapt
straight off.  The pair landed with ease as the E'teriel's powerful legs
absorbed the shock of landing effortlessly.

	Magister Earlon and A'rion followed in the insanity, knowing that
above all they had to make sure those two princes survived, if for no other
reason than to give everyone else a crack at those two.

	Twenty-five people charged thousands, aiming for just one
individual.

Andy and E'rin encountered the orks first.  Their blades moved in perfect,
flowing attacks that sliced through bone and flesh with a casual ease.

	E'rin moved with the unconscious grace of a dancer, causally
evading attacks and responding with blows that sheared warriors in half as
Andy strode by his side with the implacability of a juggernaut.  The armor
his spell had formed was patterned after a type meant to resist the attacks
of a Katana's perfect blade, and the normally crushing blows of the orks
were shed like a gentle rain.

	Earlon and A'rion danced in unison, cutting into the orks around
them and lashing out with spells of devastating power as they went.

	Lance and Starstrider were a tsunami of motion.  The Paladin's
enchanted sword swung in gleaming arcs, claiming lives with every stroke as
his steed lashed out with steel-hard hooves and powerful teeth destroying
everything in their path.

	All around and about these pairs the Bladedancers moved with the
blinding speed of a snake.  They danced around the orks, crippling and
killing any who dared come in reach, holding open the path of retreat and
protecting the flanks of their charges.

	Not that either of them noticed of course.  As the fighting went
on, E'rin let himself ride the Song of Steel within his soul releasing his
body fully to its guidance.  Surrendering to the Song destroyed the final
barrier between E'rin and his new husband.  The power flowed from him into
Andy and back again, joining them closer than anyone would have thought
possible and making the whole far greater than the sum of it's parts.  The
power of a Sorcerer flowed into E'rin as the Song of Steel filled Andy, and
just as Earlon and A'rion, they began to dance.

	The pair flowed in perfect harmony, each complementing the other's
moves precisely, providing strength were the other was weak, protection
where the other was vulnerable, and perfect love where there was fear and
despair.  In this moment, both realized that marriage was not about law,
nor money, or any other mundane issue.  It was not about morality or
prudence.  It was about taking two separate beings, and making them one in
the eyes of the gods and their fellow mortals.

	This was the power of The Cycle which the shaman Ter'Zhull so
coveted, never knowing it was a force that was so utterly alien to both
himself and his god that they could never draw upon it without being
forever changed by it.  Even now, Ter'Zhull did not know this simple truth
and he saw those he desired coming right at him of their own accord.

	With a savage gesture, the Shaman unleashed his power to clear a
path through his own warrior for the pair coming so willingly into his
grasp.  As the orks were hurled aside, Ter'Zhull reached for the power of
the soul trapped within the crystal and began to draw off of it to power
his most terrible spell.

	He smiled as the two came at him without hesitation, the
fleet-footed elf leading the way.  The ork knew that it would be easier to
take this one.  The human, he had learned from his agent, was a true
Sorcerer and in love with the elf.  His paramour's fate should devastate
him, regardless of the enmity that stood between them and that would allow
Ter'Zhull to have them both.

	E'rin's instincts cried warnings to him, but not even the Song
could guide him safely past the threat that embraced him.  The weavings of
the ork's spell plunged into his body and tore him with an agony beyond
description.  Out of the corner of his pain hazed vision he saw Andy
stumble as a shadow of that pain transmitted to him.  Then all went dark,
as the dreadful spell of the Shaman plucked out the soul of E'rinAsane'ta,
Crown Prince of the elves.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

	Andy felt it happen.  He knew instantly what had occurred and who
was responsible and he was filled not with the crushing despair that
Ter'Zhull had expected of him, but with the implacable fury that defied
description.  With only a moment's hesitation his blade moved up in a swift
and purposeful arc.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

	Ter'Zhull's exaltation was momentarily stifled by the resistance of
the soul imbued in his crystal as it fought to keep him from using it
against the elf.  He had taken the elf's soul and only the Sorcerer
remained.  The Shaman's eyes turned to gaze in triumph at the shattered
wreck of a human his attack had left.

	To his surprise, all he saw was the merciless blade of a sword.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

	Andy's attack was aimed not at the ork, but at the staff he was
holding to so tightly.  His senses screamed to him that this was the focus
for much of the power that the shaman had wielded and taking it from him
would be a nice first installment on the lifetime of pain that Andy fully
intended to give Ter'Zhull in repayment for his efforts.

	No one could have anticipated the results of his attack.  The
situation was completely unique in fact.  No one had ever managed to
capture a soul before, let alone turn it into a power source and the soul
in question here was very powerful indeed.  Many would speculate that if
Andy's sword had not born the cutting power he had learned instinctually
from E'rin, or the subtle enchantments he had laid into it as it was
forged, it might have bounced harmlessly off the surface of the crystal.

	But whether it was the magic in and around the blade, the sheer
fury of his strike, or even the resistance of the soul's of E'rin and the
crystals prisoner was beside the point.  For whatever reason, the blade
smashed the crystal adorning Ter'Zhull's staff, shattering it into
thousands of fragments.  Nor did the release of that power do any good for
the sword.  Tough and resilient though a Katana was even one inlaid with
the magics that Andy had woven could not withstand the shock of destroying
that crystal and the blade shattered as its target did.

	Andy dropped to his knees as the surge of power numbed his arms,
and pain shot through his body.  He stared up at the ork, his eyes full of
rage, and watched the events unfold.

	The spell that had snatched E'rin's soul had not yet bound it into
the crystal.  Thanks both to the perfect bond he had established with Andy,
and the spiritual energy he had invested in the blade that had carried him
through the battle, the prince's soul snapped back into his body with
shocking force.

	E'rin's dull eyes were filled once more with animation and pain as
he returned to the empty vessel from which he had been so recently torn.
Andy was instantly aware of his revival, and a surge of love and assurance
eased the trauma the spell had inflicted on him.

	The most spectacular effect of the crystal's destruction was the
released of the imprisoned soul.  The spell that bound it to the crystal
was destroyed with its prison, but the magic that allowed it to maintain
cohesion and identity was still very much intact.

	Prince Ethan Nickels was by nature a gentle soul, but some offenses
could not be tolerated, or ignored.  Ter'Zhull, chosen of Kerlack had used
him for power and so Ethan intended to give that power to him in spades.

	Ter'Zhull was reeling in shock as the spirit of the Prince he had
slain and enslaved descended upon him.  His muscles locked in agony as the
power of the spirit tore through his body, overloading every particle of
his being.

	Unlike the fallen Prince however, Ter'Zhull had no spell
maintaining his cohesion and he evaporated in a flash of eldritch light.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

	The power of a shaman can hold his warriors together under almost
any circumstances.  They are bound together in a subtle web of power that
allows the shaman to draw energy from them to empower his spells and for
those spells to more surely enhance the battle skills of his warriors.

	This bond also provides the shaman a means to instill fear,
courage, or virtually any other emotion into his warriors.  This helps them
maintain control of their people in times of peace and stiffen their
resolve in times of war.

	Finally, the bond creates a sense of community amongst orks who
are, by and large, very simple and uncomplicated souls.  Every warrior in a
bond is subtly aware of every other individual in that bond, instinctively
seeing him or her as friendly.  This prevents internecine fighting amongst
the lower orders of troops, which would tear a given tribe apart.  Orks
were generally inclined to kill anything that was not a part of their
tribes as a matter of instinct.

	When a warrior dies, the bond resonates slightly.  The more
warriors under his command a shaman has, the more it reduces the ability he
has to sense the death of any one.  Thus for Ter'Zhull, it was impossible
for him to notice anything short of the mass death which had been inflicted
on his people in the pass.

	However, when a shaman dies, the bond is severed completely,
leaving each ork utterly alone in the universe from his own perception.
The sense of tribe, and tribal identity is stripped away and every ork is
cut off from his fellows.

	Shamans can also sense this, and tend to move swiftly to bond any
who are nearby to create a sense of community, but until that happens,
groups or orks tend to devolve into a chaotic free for all.

	Ter'Zhull became the supreme leader of his people by either
convincing, or coercing every other shaman into following his lead, passing
control their bonds to him.  Those who continued to resist were killed, and
their bonds taken up by other shamans or Ter'Zhull himself.  Thus, when the
great shaman died, the Horde ceased to exist.

	For a short time, every ork just simply stopped fighting.  Many
turned and looked around in confusion, trying to figure out what to do.
After only a few second, the orks came to themselves and did what they did
best.

	They attacked everything in sight.

	The battle transformed from a desperate fight on the part of a
couple dozen individuals against a Horde, to a massive fur ball where
almost everyone fought one another.  The Bladedancer guards grabbed up
E'rin and Andy, one even taking the time to collect the shards of Andy's
sword, and the group made tracks back toward the wall.

	Finally, the troops inside had gotten organized, and the wizards
pulled out the stone plug.  The soldiers, knowing that their princes were
in danger, human and elf alike roared in rage at the sight of the pair
being carried back in the arms of their guards, injured if not dead.

	Without orders, or even a semblance of discipline the host surged
forward to avenge their lords on the bodies of the orks who dared to harm
them.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

	Sir Lance and Starstrider held up the rear as the small group
rushed to the safety of the enraged army streaming towards them.  For the
most part, the orks were too busy killing each other to bother with look
out for humans and elves to chase.

	For those unwise few who did attempt to make trouble, it took
minimal effort on the part of either Lance or his steed to smash the
foolish ork.  This allowed Lance a great deal of freedom to look around and
take stock of the tactical situation.

	It was all very good thus far.  The orks had devolved into a mass
brawl for the moment, and even though the Host was little better, at least
they were only killing orks whereas the orks were killing each other as
well.  That happy circumstance wouldn't last forever though, and eventually
shamans were going to start getting hold of their warriors again.  But the
Host was more likely to come under control first, and be able to withdrawal
behind the wall in good order before the orks got their shit together.

	As these thoughts occurred to him, he noticed a glowing figure
moving through the mass or orks toward him.  He felt Starstrider shiver
beneath him, and snort.  Lance could feel the discomfort radiating from him
as the figure came closer.

	It looked like a faintly shining image of a humanoid.  It moved
with calm purpose, occasionally reaching out to touch those involved in the
fighting.  Whenever it touched an elf or human, that individual's condition
visibly improved.  Pain and fatigue seemed to vanish; fallen soldiers rose
to fight once more, and a calm sanity filled their eyes.  When an ork came
into contact with the figure, its body was wracked with terrible muscle
spasms.  So powerfully did their bodies spasm, their bones snapped under
the strain, eventually killing even the strongest of them in terrible
agony.  The figure seemed to notice none of it.

	Lance turned Starstrider to face the figure head-on.  He held his
sword casually, not feeling particularly threatened by the approaching
figure.  It came to a halt six feet in front of him in response to his
silent, yet obvious, challenge.

	The Paladin blinked, as the light seemed to dim and coalesce into a
more natural state.  It was then he saw the figure's face.

	"How?"  He asked, his voice full of wonder.

	"Hello beloved." Said the spirit of Ethan.  "I have missed you."

	Lance sheathed his sword and dismounted.  As he moved to step
forward he felt Starstrider's presence in his mind.

	'Do not go closer dear one.' The stallion said.  'There is
something unnatural about this one.'

	"What I am now is the product of the shaman's twisted magics
Starstrider."  Ethan said.  "It has kept my spirit here, bound coherently
together in defiance of the natural way."  He chuckled.  "I guess I'm sort
of undead."

	Lance reached out to the spirit of his love, and gasped as Ethan
reached out and gripped his hand.

	"It's difficult for me to be solid, but I can manage it for a
time."  The spirit looked around.  "You should get back now, and start
reigning in the soldiers.  The shamans are starting to regain control."

	Lance nodded, and climbed back aboard the E'teriel.  He activated
the bloodstone in his helmet to a general broadcast.  "All units disengage
and re-form beyond the wall.  Repeat disengage and return to the wall."  He
turned off the stone, and then reached his hand out to Ethan.  "Want a
ride?"  He asked casually.

	"No thank you dear."  Ethan said looking at the uncomfortable
stallion.  "I think it would be better if I went under my own power."

	Lance nodded silently, and turned to follow his own order as the
human troops broke off quickly and began to retreat.  The elves stayed
behind, covering their comrades' backs until they were too far away to
intercept.  Their superior agility and speed allowed them to quickly
disengage and withdrawal.

	Lance was keeping quiet as he tried to come to grips with the
second greatest shock of his life.  Losing Ethan had been devastating, and
it was only his overwhelming need to do his duty, and the undiluted love
and support of Starstrider that kept him from falling into the pit of black
despair.  But now, he was confronted with the unalterable fact of Ethan's
demise by the presence of his spirit.

	In part, Lance was glad to see his love.  He knew, not just felt
but KNEW on a deep level that the spirit was who it appeared to be.  That
meant that his love was stuck in this world, possibly forever.  Since
Ethan's death, Lance had held onto the notion that when he died, he could
be with Ethan in the Heavens.  If Ethan were bound to the mortal plain
however, they would have a chance to be together while Lance was alive, but
once he died they would likely be separated for all time.

	As his thoughts became more morose, he felt the love and supportive
encouragement of Starstrider flowing into him.

	'Do not give into despair now dear one.' The stallion told him.
'Now that I have had a chance to judge him, the being is indeed your
beloved.  More so now than ever.'

	'What?'

	'The flesh has been stripped away, but the essence remains pure.'
The stallion explained.  'He is a worthy one, even as you are.  He has not
given into hate or vengeance.  He struck down Ter'Zhull from necessity to
fulfill his duty to protect his people, not from any desire to avenge his
suffering.'  The E'teriel gave a mental shrug.  'Do not borrow troubles
from the future dear one.  For now you are reunited,
however... unconventionally with your love.  What will be, will be and you
can deal with it when it happens.'

	Lance smiled at the caviler attitude of the divine creature he rode
and his mood lightened.  He stopped Starstrider and reached out to Ethan,
who floated nearby, once more.

	"Please ride with me."  He requested, his voice gentle and his eyes
full of love and welcome.

	Ethan smiled as the E'teriel nodded firmly in agreement and took
his true love's hand.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

	Andy and E'rin both recovered quickly as the elvin magics restored
their strength and vitality.  The pair was nice and healthy when the time
came to face the combined wrath of their general staff and advisors.

	Duke Harmon, Dera'Lione, General Anastona, Marshal O'meneri,
Magister Earlon and A'rion as well as their combined bodyguard unit were
gathered together.  On the edge of the gathering, Ethan and Lance stood
quietly, waiting until the discussion turned to the fallen Prince.

	The gathered individuals took turns verbally tearing strips of the
couple's hides.  Demands to know what, if anything they were thinking when
they went hell-bent for glory into the face of the Horde, whether they had
stopped to consider the needs of their men and nations before going off on
their own and many other questions bombarded them.

	The pair took the barrage calmly.  They knew that genuine concern
prompted the outbursts and took no offense, but it could only be allowed to
go on for so long.  Andy was about to bring the show to a halt when a voice
beat him to it.

	"Well, I for one am rather grateful."  Ethan's voice effortlessly
cut through the other voices in the tent.  "Just in case you were
wondering."

	The various men in the room looked to the spirit that shared a face
with the sorcerer from another world.  They noticed differences now.  Not
so much a difference between Andy and Ethan as much as a difference in how
Ethan was from how they remembered him.

	A calm wisdom filled his eyes, a simple surety that must come with
leaving one's mortal woes behind, the peace of the grave.  It was a
compelling change, and it lent his words great weight.

	"He charged because he had a deep, instinctual feeling that it was
necessary."  Ethan said.  "It was a feeling I gave him."  He shrugged at
the shocked looks directed at him.  "I wasn't powerless, just imprisoned.
When Ter'Zhull opened the prison to tap into my energy, he allowed me to
reach out and affect the world myself.  I knew he had to be stopped so I
called to Andy and he responded."  He grinned.  "I also did everything I
could to make sure they would make it there by manipulating the orks
through their bond to Ter'Zhull."

	"The practical upshot of it is that without Ter'Zhull the Horde is
likely to break up, or at the very least lose its coordination."  Andy
said.  "And the dragons are still on the way."

	The Sky Knights had valiantly flown straight into the teeth of the
dragons, delaying the main group of five for some time now.  Eventually the
griffins had started to become fatigued and been forced to withdraw before
the dragons killed them off in job lots.  They had bought a couple of
precious hours for the Host to reduce the orks as much as possible, but
time was quickly running out.

	"Let us not forget that we have better things to do than discuss
our actions."  E'rin said calmly.  "Let us be about our duties, and vent
our emotions later."

	"Or to put it more bluntly: 'Shut up and soldier'!"  Andy said with
a grin.

	Most of the people in the pavilion chuckled at Andy's use of an old
sergeants response to the complaints of young troops from time immemorial.

	"I will do what I can to assist you."  Ethan said as he walked up
to Andy and E'rin.  "My power is more... internalized than before, but if I
can touch a dragon I should be able to incapacitate it."  He looked right
at E'rin.  "Congratulations Your Highness at finding your true love in one
that duty compelled you to marry."  He smiled.  "I too loved another, and
I'm sure that you are as pleased at not having to marry me as I am."

	E'rin snuggled himself up in Andy's spontaneous embrace and smiled
in agreement.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

	Ashenteriaeon'zhurlon, known as Ash Lord of Dragon kind, was in a
surly mood as he led his fellows into the area that Ter'Zhull had called
him to support.  The irritating distraction of the griffins and their
riders had been too much of a danger to simply ignore, but its delay had
allowed that idiot Ter'Zhull to get himself killed.

	In the days before the savior Kerlack had liberated him, Ash had
been a military theorist in the service of Omar.  He could pick up a great
many things about a battle by will alone, and the sudden death of Ember had
attracted his attention.

	Too much had gone past for him to know what had killed his scout,
but he had plenty of time to see the unholy carnage that the humans had
wrought upon the pathetic orks.  Ash was very impressed, for it was rare
for any race aside from dragons and the Mentazi warriors to unleash such
devastation upon a foe.  It might make the coming fight... interesting.

	With a fierce rush of joy, Ash turned in to battle.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

	While expected, the arrival of the dragons was hardly a morale
booster for the Host.  They had too much on their minds at the time to
worry about it though, because the shamans who had managed to establish
some control of the orks had chosen that moment to renew the assault on the
wall.  Having a massive, bloodthirsty ork attempting to cave your skull in
with an axe would tend to focus anyone's thoughts quickly on the task at
hand.

	Ash admired the professionalism that humans demonstrated.  Servant
of Kerlack or no, he would always be a militarist and that left him with
nothing but contempt for the half-assed tactics of the orks.  Ter'Zhull
might have changed that if he'd been less of an idiot and rushed straight
at what had to be the deadliest concentration of individuals in the entire
Host.  Even if the sorcerer hadn't killed the fool, one of the others would
have most likely ended his ambitions quickly enough.

	Ash had no intention of tangling with a Sorcerer head on.  He was
all to aware of the kind of power they could unleash, even untrained as
this one must be, to be eager to stick his snout in THAT fire.  If he saw a
possible opening, he wouldn't hesitate to exploit it of course, but he
wasn't about to look for trouble if he could avoid it.

	He sent his will to the others.  They would restrict themselves to
offering long-range support and let the orks do all the dying.  Dragons
could destroy spell matrixes as well, if not better, than any human.

	Ash, however, would see if he could find out what had killed Ember.
Even from this height he could see the dragon's corpse clearly.  If he
didn't know any better, he would swear those were SPEARS embedded in the
body.

	'Could Ember have been enough of an idiot to actually LAND to fight
them on foot?' Ash asked himself.  The appearance of the impact crater, and
the obviously dislocated wing suggested otherwise.

	A spear appeared to have been lodged in one of the wing joints.
Ash knew that Ember was fond of buzzing humans for his own esoteric
reasons.  Most likely he'd gotten too close this time and caught a spear
for his troubles.  That would have brought him down, and allowed the humans
to finish him off while he was still stunned from the impact.

	Just to be sure, he'd take a closer look and get his talons on one
of those spears.

	Ash did a wingover, turning around into a shallow dive that would
take him over the wall (not too close mind you!) and allow him to snatch
one of the spears.

	As he made his pass, his instincts screamed sudden warning.  Unlike
Ember, Ash had been a warrior and his instincts and reflexes were finely
trained.

	Ash rolled over onto his left wing, narrowly missing a spear shot
with terrific force as it brushed past his chest.  He continued the roll,
lashing his tail out to shatter one of the cunning engines to splinters as
he snapped back around.

	With another wingover, he came back for a second pass.  Two more
spears lashed out at him.  The first he caught effortlessly, while the
second went high and came nowhere near him.  As he went, Ash lashed out
with is tail, destroying two more ballista as he climbed into the sky.

	Ash moved out of the probable danger zone before he took the time
to examine his prize.  Human ingenuity was astounding!  This was how Ember
was killed, ambushed by a new and unexpected weapon.  Perhaps he'd been too
hard on the departed sociologist.  Ash himself had barely been able to
avoid getting skewered.

	Ash shuddered as he looked at the dreadful spear.  Its serrated
edges would cause terrible damage when they hit.  Even if they were unable
to penetrate bone, the force of their blows could almost certainly punch
through the armored hide of a dragon.

	Even with the magical enhancements he instinctively activated, it
had hurt to catch that spear.  It would perhaps be better to keep himself
and his people well out of the possible range of those weapons in case they
had still more.

	The battle would definitely be more exciting than he'd thought.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

	The dragons were an unfortunate complication.  They darted in and
out to blast holes in the human and elvin ranks, occasionally getting
wounded by one of the three remaining ballista.  At other times they would
disrupt spells or extinguish fires in the ork ranks.  The Monks had proven
a saving grace, keeping the orks from making effective use of the
opportunities the dragons presented them.  Since their magic was orkish in
nature, the dragons never bothered to challenge their power, giving them
free reign in the battle.

	Andy and E'rin manned the walls, E'rin with his ersatz lightsaber
and Andy with his wakazashi.  The close quarters of the wall favored his
shorter blade, so the loss of his katana wasn't as important at the moment.
Occasionally, as time permitted, Andy would get a little of his own back
from the dragons, but for the most part he had to settle for mitigating the
damage they caused.

	It was a battle of attrition and if not for the same strengthening
spells being provided to the soldiers as the orks had, the Host would have
long since been buried under.  Sooner or later however, they would falter,
and dragons NEVER got tired.

	No one noticed when help arrived, for it flew in on silent wings.
One minute the dragons were dancing in and amongst the battle, flying down
and back, never making themselves an easy target and the next minute they
were suddenly swarmed under.  The First Aerian Battlewing had arrived, and
they went about their work like the consummate professionals they were.

	The children of Hyperion were created to be the undisputable
masters of the sky.  One on one, a dragon was a fearsome creature, but they
were solitary creatures that rarely cooperated.  Aerians, however, were
very social people, and had learned over the millennia of war with their
twisted brethren, the Pteros, how to use that close cooperation to become
the finest aerial force imaginable.

	Of course, only so many could attack at once, but the intricate
flight patterns they wove allowed the Aerians to strike as they passed the
dragons on so many different vectors at once it was impossible for even
those incredible creatures to keep track of them in such total confusion.
With a roared order from Ash, the dragons turned and fled into the sky,
pursued by the Aerian warriors.

	The defeat of the dragons was too much to bear, and without the
driving will of Ter'Zhull to keep them going, the orks broke and ran at
last.  The host sallied forth once more to pursue and kill as many as
possible, but the fighting they had endured had sapped too much from them.
After only half way down the pass, the soldiers halted on their officer's
command, and returned to camp.

The battle was won, and the war over, for today at least.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

	Thank you Matt for being my conscientious editor, and for
constantly hounding me to make sure that I don't just completely forget
about writing the story either.

:-P

Corey.