The Game of Fates (72 page)

The
main road between the two gens passed along the southern border of the long
slope, before turning sharply north at the bottom of it.  On the south side of
the road a broad band of trees covered a number of small, lumpy hills with a
number of narrow, tree-filled little valleys between them.  This band of hills
and trees continued around the front of the battlefield, bordering the east
side of the road as it turned north.

“Brother
kobolds,” Lord Karthan said as he turned to the other four, breaking the moment
of pondering.  “If our counts and reports are correct, then the orc horde now
consists of about nine hundred orcs, probably forty-five or so ogre
mercenaries, and five hundred northern gen levies, one hundred of which are
wolf riding cavalry from our brother Kobold Gen.”

The
other four had all ceased their pondering and were looking squarely at him now.

“As
I think everyone here knows by now, we stopped the ants just this morning, not
long before dawn, as they were coming up Sheerface from the underdark,” Lord
Karthan continued.  “They move very quickly, but I do not believe they will be
able to find their way to the Doorstep too quickly.  I believe we have to
assume that the orcs will arrive and have to be dealt with before the ants
arrive.”

Kale,
Lord Sennak, and Khazak all nodded.

“Our
warriors should have the mid-valley exit from the underdark sealed before
long,” Krall added in.  “That would leave only the Doorstep available to the
ants, which the contingent we sent to seal the mid-valley passage will seal up
after they get the mid-valley entrance sealed.”

Lord
Karthan nodded.  “Very well.  In the various talks we’ve had, the sub-leaders
I’ve placed in charge of each of our new companies, Khazak, and I have come up
with several thoughts about this coming battle.”

“What’s
there to think about?” Lord Sennak said sarcastically.  “After all, these are
orcs.  They’ll rush at us headlong without thinking.  What’s so hard about
that?”

Everyone
looked at Sennak for a moment, none of them in agreement.

“Just
because they don’t think about how they fight doesn’t mean we shouldn’t
either,” Kale said.  “I would like to hear what Lord Karthan has come up with.”

The
moment passed… uncomfortably.

“The
greatest strength they have is their size and simple muscle,” Lord Karthan
tried to get their thoughts back to the task at hand.  “But an orc like
Drakebane, their chieftain, doesn’t get to be old without being wily.”

“Aye,
and curse him!” Khazak Mail Fist spat in the dirt.

“Yes,”
Krall added.  “Let’s pay him back for his raid on our gens six years ago.”

“Aye!”
Khazak echoed.

“And
how do we intend to do that?” Kale asked.

Lord
Karthan pointed to the end of the field.  “Our plan is to rely on their two
main weaknesses; lack of good scouts, thanks to the Krall Gen’s efforts, and
lack of shields or other effective protections from our arrows.

“Our
plan has a couple of assumptions to it.  First of all is that Durik will lead
the orcs to us, on this road here,” he said, pointing at the road that emerged
from the trees at the bottom of the slope on the eastern edge of the long
clearing.

“Paladin
or not, you’ve a lot of faith in this Durik,” Lord Sennak quipped.

“As
do I,” Kale turned and remarked.  The divide between the two underdark leaders
was becoming more noticeable.

“The
second assumption,” Lord Karthan tried to refocus the group, “is that they will
only be able to split into two or three large groups.  We’ve based this on the
Krall Gen’s reports that they killed one of Drakebane’s leading sons.”

“Yes,”
Krall nodded.  “We did.  That would leave him with only himself and one
champion.”

“Why
not an ogre group?” Kale asked.

“The
ogres will either be spread out among the orcs to provide shock, or they’ll be
a unit under Drakebane,” Khazak said.  “It’s the way of things with
mercenaries.  You can’t just depend on them to do the right thing, you have to
keep your thumb on them.”

“Fair
enough,” Kale nodded.  “But what about the hobgoblin mercenaries?”

“May
be the same way,” Khazak replied, “though they’re generally more reliable. 
They may be given the levies from the northern gens, or they may be with one of
the groups, and have the kobold levies spread between the two orc groups.”

“The
reason why this is important,” Lord Karthan interjected, “is because we plan to
ambush them here,” he said as he raised his arms to encompass the large open
field.  “Here,” he said as he stepped out in front of the other four and raised
his arms to form a generally straight line in front of the trees.  “When Durik
leads the orcs to the road at the bottom of the slope, the Kale Gen companies
will march out of the tree line and stop once the rearmost companies are out of
the trees.  This will focus the orcs on the top of the slope.”

“And
that should let us rain volleys of arrows down on them with those bows our
warriors are carrying,” Khazak added in.

“Yes,”
Kale said, “assuming they take the bait and just come running up the slope at
you.”

“That’s
where the second assumption comes in,” Lord Karthan said.  “We have to assume
that they’ll be smarter than that and that they’ll split their force and use at
least part of it to try and flank us.”

“This
hill looks rather hard to assail,” Lord Sennak said.  “I would think that they
will choose the easier way straight up the slope.”

“Perhaps,”
Lord Karthan said, “but if they do not, then we have to protect our flanks.  I
will have the Wolf Riders on the main road on our right flank.  Lord Sennak,”
he turned to the least engaged of the five leaders, “would your forces like the
honor of hiding in the berm-like hill off there on our left?  I would like them
hidden in the woods from probably half a bowshot to two bowshots distance from
the left flank of my line.  It would allow my warriors to act as an anvil, and
yours to act as a hammer to smash the orcs between us once they pass, or to
repulse an attack on our left flank.”

Lord
Sennak nodded.  “Very well.  I think that would be acceptable.”

“Good,”
Lord Karthan nodded, then turned to Kale.  “To add extra shock to your attack,
what do you think about your warriors with their javelins running out ahead of
their Deep Gen brethren to throw their javelins while Lord Sennak’s warriors
are charging out behind them?”

Kale
nodded.  “We can do that.”

“Very
well, then.  Now, for the Krall Gen,” Lord Karthan turned to the heir of the
Krall Gen.  “While I think this simple plan of hammer and anvil will work, I
would like a large reserve that I can call upon if needed.”

“Where
would you have us?” Krall asked.

“Hear
me out on this one.  I need you to split your forces in three,” Lord Karthan
said.  “I need all your mounted warriors to form up on the right flank next to
Durik’s Wolf Riders, to help secure our right flank.  I would think your Archer
Guard and Border Guard warriors would help most by forming up behind the Kale
Gen companies, to add their arrows to ours.  And I would like your Heavy Guard
to form a reserve back in the clearing in the woods on the top of this hill.”

“Why
should we not stand in the line with your warriors?” Krall asked.

“Because
you don’t have shields, and cannot form a shield wall to protect your warriors
from the few archers the orcs have,” Lord Karthan answered.  “I value your
bravery, and am thankful for it in this time of invasion.  However, these orcs
are attacking my gen.  When they come to attack your gen, you can stand the
line and we’ll shoot arrows over your heads.”

“Fair
enough,” Krall nodded, “though you may change your minds once you see the
ants.”

“Yes! 
What are we going to do about the ants?” Lord Sennak asked.

“Once
we deal with the orcs, we will send out our scouts to find the ants,” Lord
Karthan answered.  “If we can get them to fight in the open, then so much the
better.  If not, then we’ll likely have to fall back very quickly to the Kale
Gen’s caverns, where we will have a better chance of fighting them off.”

“Those
ferocious little creatures can dig, you know!  They dug up into the middle of
our little fort near the Great River,” Krall said vehemently.  “They will dig
past your defenses there in the caves.  We better hope we can meet them out
here where we can fight them, rather than lead them back to your lifemates and
whelps!”

Lord
Karthan shook his head.  “One large, overpowering enemy at a time.”

“Let
us hope that that is how they come,” Kale said.

Gorgon
lay snoring, propped up against the hard rock that ringed the bowl of earth at
the crest of the massive tower rock.  As he, Jerrig, Arbelk, and Troka lay
comatose, yet twitching in their dreams after a long night’s pursuit by great
ants, Goryon directed the work of the six warriors that had been assigned to
him to serve as messengers, lookouts, and helpers.  Before long the twisted,
sinewy mass of ropes on either side of the thick wooden arms that served as
propulsion for the spear-like bolts had been wrapped and arranged according to
the intricate pattern Goryon had carefully recorded on the side of each
machines’ body.

After
a pair of warriors grabbed steel levers and rotated the ratcheting gear back
fully, with the help of another warrior Goryon set one of the spears in the
trough of the first machine, prepared to fire.  While everyone else stood back,
Goryon picked up the handle on the back of the machine and tilted the head of
the massive bow far upward, hoping to drop the spear close to a mound of dirt
in the field a few hundred steps down from the top of the hill.

“Loosing
arrow!” he called.  With a jerk to the mechanism, the sinew rope snapped
forward, throwing the spear before it in the blink of an eye.  Almost
immediately the warriors around him were cheering and pointing out into the
field.

Goryon
let loose the machine and walked up to the front of it to see how close he’d
come to his target.  As a warrior pointed out to him where it had landed, to
his utter surprise the bolt had gone almost half the distance of the half-mile
long slope before sticking into the dirt at an angle.  Letting out a yell of
victory as well, Goryon danced about.

“Let’s
fire another one, boys!  We’ve got to figure out the drop on this thing pretty
quick.  Elsewise, we’ll shoot far but won’t hit a thing.”  Goryon turned around
to a warrior who he’d assigned to mark the point he’d fired from.  Strangely
enough, the warrior was staring out into space.  “Hey!” Goryon yelled.  “Did
you mark the angle for me?”

“Um,
Goryon,” another warrior said as the entire group of warriors suddenly hushed.

Turning
about, Goryon looked annoyed.  “What is the…”

Suddenly
Goryon saw what everyone else was looking at.  The entire group stood
transfixed in horror at the sight until Goryon grabbed the ram’s horn he’d been
given for just such a purpose as this and blew with all his might.

^“
A
nd you’re the last of them,
then?” Durik asked Pintor.

“Aye,
sire,” the elite warrior from Manebrow’s half of the warrior group replied.

“Very
well, go back to your team, then.”  With that dismissal Durik turned in the
saddle to look at Manebrow.  “Well then, it would appear that our little ruse
is working.”

Manebrow
nodded and looked off into the distance, down the ridge and into the broad,
shallow canyon plain where the ring of upright tree trunks known as the
loyalist enclosure lay.  Surrounding the place, the orc horde had yet to figure
out that it was uninhabited.  But they would certainly find out shortly.  As
the pair of leaders watched, a massive brute of an ogre strode forward with his
mighty axe and, turning it about to use the spike on the back of the head, he
blasted a hole through the gates in the first strike.  Two more strikes later
and the lead orcs went flooding into the place.

“Well,
then, Manebrow,” Durik said as he turned his wolf about to leave.  “We should
probably go and arrange our next trap for the horde.”

“Um,
sire,” Manebrow interrupted, the first hints of urgency appearing in his voice.

Durik
turned Firepaw back about.  “What…” he stopped as the words died in his throat.

Flying
over the mountain, wreathed in a plume of flame and smoke, was a large red
dragon, its wings outstretched as it landed on the tallest peak.  The baleful
gaze it gave to the southern valley made both of the kobold leaders shudder,
even though it was far away, back toward the area of the Doorstep where the
orcs had camped the night before.

“Manebrow,”
Durik broke the fearful silence, “you don’t suppose Morigar actually succeeded,
do you?”

Manebrow
shook his head.  “Not likely, sire.  It’s more likely that he just upset the
monster, and that it’s come looking for revenge.”

Durik’s
sigh was one of resignation and painful emotion.  “Manebrow, remind me why we
didn’t just tie up Morigar and leave him with in the Dwarven Outpost?”

“I’ve
asked that more than once myself,” Manebrow replied.  “Although I’m sure Lord
Krall wouldn’t have approved, now it appears our forbearance may cost us all,
dearly.”

Mananthiél
flexed his wings and rolled his long neck about to stretch it a bit.  It had
been a long night followed by a short sleep, followed by yet more intense
hunting.  But now, finally he was getting somewhere.  He had felt the presence
of the little stone of power down in the bowels of the mountain he had perched
upon, just once when whatever it was that had it had communicated with it. 
Pondering over the dilemma, the dragon thought about his options for a bit. 
Finally he decided that he couldn’t root the little creatures out on his own. 
After all, there was a path down into the underdark from there, and he wasn’t
about to chance loosing it into the underdark.

Throwing
himself into the air and catching his immense weight with his wings, Mananthiél
soared through the air toward the pillars of smoke that were rising into the
sky from a broad canyon a few mountains over.  He knew his orc horde was around
here somewhere, and it didn’t take much of an imagination to guess where they
might be.

Ardan,
scout for the Kale Gen and leader of a small team under Durik’s Company, was
not aware that his company had been dissolved yet, nor that Durik had been put
in charge of the Wolf Riders.  After all, his team had been sent to Lord
Krall’s forces to warn him of the approaching orc horde, and since then he had
been mostly serving with Lord Krall’s scouts.  The fight against the ants that
had been in the valley for some time had been going well.  They seemed to have
lost the fury that they’d had after Jerrig had slain their queen.  But only
this morning did they understand why.

Not
long before now messengers had arrived from his gen, bringing word with them
that another much larger ant horde, apparently headed up by the dead
ant-queen’s mother, was approaching the valley through the underdark.  This
horde of ants was apparently more mature, which as the messenger explained it
meant that there were many more warriors and hunter ants, and almost no
drones.  Apparently the Kale Gen had just sealed up Sheerface around dawn in
the upper world to keep them out.  There had been no word about Durik or
Ardan’s other companions that had been traveling through the underdark, but
that was how war was; full of miscommunication and unintentional half-truths. 
He wondered how true the reports of this other ant horde were.

Now,
as his team on their borrowed riding dogs, packdogs that had been pressed into
service really, approached the mouth of the canyon where the orc encampment had
been, Ardan looked about himself.  Something didn’t seem right.

Beside
him, seated on a particularly stocky looking yellow dog, Keryak was struggling to
guide the carefree beast away from every butterfly and interesting
grasshopper.  It had been a constant thing, only changing when the four dogs
got to running, then they all fell in line with the lead dog readily enough.

Behind
him and Keryak, Tohr and Kahn were having better luck with their mounts, but
their lack of skill showed in the chafing at the bit that their mounts
displayed.  Nonetheless, the entire team seemed to be doing fine.

Looking
about himself, Ardan couldn’t help but feel that something wasn’t right. 
Always one to trust his gut instincts, as they’d kept him alive this far, Ardan
raised his hand to signal a halt, and reined in his mount.

“What
is it?” Keryak asked as he finally was able to guide his dog up beside Ardan.

Ardan
sat looking about the area, his brows knitted and his eyes narrowed to block
out any glare from the mid-morning sun.  Seeing Ardan in his listening mode,
Keryak began to look around as well.  Seeing the two in front stopped, the
twins stopped a little way back from them and drew their bows.

Several
moments passed, then suddenly from around the bend of the path ahead of them a
pair of kobolds mounted on riding dogs appeared.  The dogs looked almost
exhausted, and the riders were crouched down in the saddles as if to make a
smaller target.

Ardan
drew his sword while Keryak leveled his spear.  He thought he remembered the
Kobold cavalry riding wolves, not dogs, but he wasn’t taking any chances.

“Halt!”
Ardan called out, keeping his voice as low as the situation allowed.

The
two dog-riders reined in just in front of the four Kale Gen warriors.  As they
lifted their faces, a broad smile came across Ardan’s face.

“Krebbekar! 
You’re still alive then!” Ardan exclaimed.  “And Morigar as well,” he said in
more subdued tones.

“Run!”
the older kobold warrior replied, a haunted look in his eyes.  Behind the pair,
the low sound of what seemed to be an avalanche could be heard coming from the
area of the former orc encampment at the mouth of the Doorstep.

“What’s
wro…” Ardan started, but stopped cold as a massive beast with burnt red scales
that shined in the mid-morning sun appeared on the top of the mountain they
were approaching.  “A dragon!”

“And
Ants!” Krebbekar said.  “Now move!”

The
four Kale Gen warriors didn’t even have to command their dogs to move.  In
unison the four packdogs-turned-riding dogs turned tail and ran for all they
were worth back down the trail, their riders doing everything they could to
hang on.

“Ants?”
he called out to Morigar, who was closest to him.  The situation was changing
so rapidly, leaving Ardan struggling to catch up.  “Which horde?  The old one
or the new one?”

Morigar
looked over at him with a confused look.  “What do you mean old or new?  When
did a new horde of ants arrive?”

“They’re
coming through the underdark!” Ardan called.  “It’s the queen mother’s horde. 
Mostly warriors and hunter ants!”

Morigar’s
eyes got wider.  The panic written across his face grew wider.

“Where
did this dragon come from?” Ardan called out, but by then Morigar’s dog was moving
into the lead of the fleeing group.

Finally,
as they reached a small streambed that bisected the path, Ardan was able to get
control of his dog, and to stop the other dogs of his team in their flight. 
The group had fled at least a mile or more in their panic.  Morigar had beat
them to the streambed and had kept going, but it was several moments later that
Krebbekar finally arrived.

“A
dragon!” Keryak cried out.  “What’s that all about?  Aren’t an orc horde and
two ant hordes enough?!”

“Two
ant hordes?” Krebbekar shook his head.  “When did the other ant horde arrive?”

“Remember
the queen that Jerrig killed?” Ardan asked.  “That’s her mother’s horde come
for revenge!”

“Well,
they’re…” Krebbekar stopped in mid-sentence.  A deep, almost painful fear had begun
to settle over the group.  “The dragon!  It’s spotted us!  Run!” he cried out,
kicking his already exhausted dog into motion.

The
small group of kobolds splashed quickly through the little stream and urged
their mounts up the far slope, through the underbrush along the bank, and out
into a large meadow.  On the far end of the meadow, Ardan could see Morigar
heading into the woods.

Suddenly,
a massive shadow swooped by overhead. 

The
dogs went crazy with fear.  Ardan’s dog dropped to the ground and began to
whimper.  Keryak’s dog sprinted across the meadow behind Tohr and Kahn’s dogs. 
Krebbekar’s dog, however, was so exhausted it had just barely reached the top
of the slope when, all of a sudden the massive weight of the dragon slammed
down in the meadow, shaking the earth and throwing Krebbekar to the ground in
front of it.

As
Krebbekar slowly stood up, gingerly trying to not put weight on his broken
right foot, he saw his dog running as fast as it could down the stream. 
Knowing what fate awaited him, he looked up, and up, and up into the massive
dragon’s eyes.

The
beast looked down at Krebbekar with a withering gaze.  The heat of its sulfuric
breath alone was almost more than he could stand.  As it shifted its weight
slowly from its back feet to its front claws, Krebbekar could feel the ground
shudder with the weight of the beast.

“What
do you want from me?” Krebbekar asked in his native tongue.  He figured he was
dead anyway, so what did he have to lose by trying to talk to the beast?

The
mighty dragon’s eyes narrowed as he looked down at the tasty morsel in front of
him that had likely put him in this little dilemma.  After a moment, it spoke
back at the squeaky-voiced little creature.

“You
took the Stone of Krech,” its thunderous tone resonated across the meadow.  Off
to one side of Krebbekar, the dragon’s landing had shaken Ardan’s dog out of
its paralyzed state, and dog and rider had leapt together into the streambed. 
Even now, though Ardan’s dog had fled behind Krebbekar’s, Ardan hid down in the
streambed, behind the tall plants and watching as Krebbekar’s right to continue
living stood on the edge of a razor.

“No!”
Krebbekar called out.  “The Krech Stone is with the elf!  He was going to leave
it for you at the other side of the mountain!  It is sitting outside the
entrance on the north side!”

The
dragon’s eyes narrowed.  “Then you admit that you took the stone!”

“NO!”
Krebbekar almost squeaked out.  “It wasn’t me!  It was a young fool that I was
traveling with!  He took the stone!  When we found it, I made him give it up!” 

With
his hands raised, seemingly to hold back the dragon, Krebbekar had stumbled
backward a couple of steps.  Seeing how close he was to the edge of the slope,
Ardan began skirting the slope toward him to see if perhaps he could help
Krebbekar escape the dragon’s wrath, all the while carefully keeping out of
view of the dragon.