“Concerning the Orcs, a new warlord has risen amongst them. It has consolidated the tribes and killed all that oppose him. Word has reached us that he has allied with the Shamans from Grimpen Mire. Foul creatures, who study blood magic and necromancy.

We have given orders to report any sightings of this new warlord’s symbol, an axe splitting the sun in half.”

“Legion report on the Orcs of the Eastern Hills” IC 2562 (Present Day)

Chapter 19

Erinn stood atop the walls of Whitewater as the sun set. She watched the yellow light of day fade, and the black moon ascend high in the sky.

Shivering while she watched the light die, she knew what they would soon face with Night’s arrival.

She looked around at the other defenders. She could see dozens standing on the walls with her, lining the battlements with bows gripped tightly in hand. Each had a bundle of arrows placed within easy reach.

Behind the wall, standing on the ground, a small group of clerics gathered near a tent. Some were preparing bandages; others were still carrying cots to the tents that would be occupied by the wounded.

Erinn heard one of the clerics offering prayers to the Twin Suns, asking the gods to watch over the defenders. They had even brought a large altar out of the cathedral, placing it near their healing tent.

The altar’s Sun symbol, two conjoined circles of yellow and blue, were glowing faintly with the power of faith. It was shining with a bright light that could be seen from anywhere in the town.

Victor would be amongst the priests, ready to aid in the healing. She said a brief prayer to the gods for her friend’s safety.

To her right, she could see the Fort standing tall. It was brightly lit with torches and glowing orbs of light on stands. Erinn could spot moving figures on the roof of the Fort. They were Mages, dressed in flowing long robes and carrying staffs.

There was only a half dozen or so mages amongst the Legion and Auxiliaries here in Whitewater, but they were powerful enough to cast spells of great destruction. From the top of the fort, they would be able to see the entire battlefield and hurl their magic below.

Despite all the preparation, Erinn was unsure of their chances of victory. The legion and Auxiliaries were less than a hundred people, with around double that number of townspeople were willing to fight if the enemy entered the walls.

Against hundreds of Goblins and Orcs, it could go either way, although the protection of the high walls would tilt the odds in the defender’s favor.

They would need to hold for reinforcements from East Haven. They had assured the Commander that they would be here by the end of tomorrow.

‘We can hold for two days.’ Erinn kept repeating in her head, trying to reassure herself of their chances.

Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath. The air was filled with the smell of leather, sweat and wood smoke.

Opening her eyes, she focused on the dark forest, barely visible in the distance. During the day, she would be able to see the trees from this high up. In the dim starlight, they were only a dark smudge.

The legion had placed orbs of light and burning piles of wood to mark the distance for the archers. It started at the town walls and gates and stretched for a mile outside towards the tree line.

The archers would use the light to gauge the distance, with the fires placed every three hundred feet from the walls for a mile. At hundred and fifty feet from the walls, they had placed large bonfires, marking the range where they would start firing.

Standing in the dark, everyone watched as the last shred of sunlight faded. Full night had fallen, the Goblins would be coming soon.

Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump!

In the distant forest, faint drums could be heard. Rhythmically pounding out a steady beat.

Erinn looked at Hale beside her, who was now dressed in grey legion padded overcoat. She wore chainmail and a helmet while holding a bow, her sword on her hip and shield strapped to her back. The whole line of soldiers began to shift nervously, the drums a signal they all recognized.

“Goblin War Drums” Hale said, seeing Erinn’s lack of understanding. “They use them in their armies, boosts morale.” She finished, shifting her focus back to the front.

The drums continued getting louder as the minutes passed, coming closer with their army. Erinn could now see a dark mass coming out of the forest. Hundreds of dark shapes walking out of the trees in the dim light provided by the burning fires.

As the Goblins marched closer to the town, Erinn could pick out some details. Goblins riding large grey wolves were running to the side of their army, dozens strong, wearing leather armor and wielding iron tipped spears and large knives.

In the front rows, Goblins wielding long sharpened sticks as spears and wooden clubs led the first line of the army. The creatures were dressed in hides and scraps of cloth. Erinn guessed there were at least two hundred of these ill-equipped Goblins, making up the bulk of the opposing force.

Behind these Goblins were the better equipped elite, wearing crude leather and metal armor. They held iron spears, wickedly spiked clubs, or sharp iron swords. They were positioned in groups of over a dozen, each being led by a large hulking Orc.

These Orc wore a variety of armor, some hide, others leather, a few seem to have pillaged bits of scale mail and plate. They had large two-handed swords, great double-sided axes, or large spiked clubs.

Erinn could see behind the main force, now that they were less than a mile away. It contained a small group of robed Orcs, covered in tattoos and each carried a large staff topped with various animal skulls. Less than a dozen strong, this group was guarded by a score of well-armed Goblins brandishing short bows.

The army gathered at the outside boundary of the large bonfires, standing at the edge of the light. The Goblins were grouped together beyond the defender’s arrow range, holding in a long line.

While the enemy army arranged itself, Erinn could see another group approaching from the forest’s edge, it was this crowd of people that made Erinn’s blood run cold. The other legion members, seeing the new arrivals, began to curse and yell at their enemies.

Scores of prisoners, men and women, were being hauled forward by the group of robed Orcs into the light so the defenders could easily observe them. Erinn could see that some were farmers, others were merchants, and many were part of the auxiliary teams that had entered the Goblin tunnels the day before.

She could easily make out their familiar faces. They appeared to be in a daze, many had bloody faces and cradled wounded limbs. They assisted each other to walk forward, and in the light Erinn could see terrible wounds on their bodies, visible through their ragged and filthy clothing.

The Orcs roughly forced all the prisoners to kneel in a long row, within sight of the walls, but well out of bow range. The army arranged around them, with the robed Orcs standing behind the prisoners.

Erinn could hear arguing from some of the others near her. They were begging their leaders to allow them to head out of the gate and rescue their comrades and friends.

They were harshly denied, the legion commander explaining that it was a tactic to get them to open the gate and stage a rescue.

Erinn was shaking with anger at how despicable these Orcs were, she felt that perhaps it would have been better if these men and women had died in the tunnels, rather than be used as bait. She was sure that captured Auxiliaries, who knelt at the Orcs feet, felt the same way.

“What will they do with them? They must realize we aren’t leaving the walls, even to rescue the prisoners?” Erinn asked Hale.

Frowning, Hale looked at the captives, before closely examining the robed Orc standing behind them.

“This doesn’t make any sense, they should know we wouldn’t risk the town by opening the gate…. oh no!” She gasped as the realization hit her.

“They aren’t using them as bait, those Orcs are Shamans!” Hale exclaimed, turning to Erinn and gripping her arm tightly. Erinn winced in pain at the strength Hale was using.

“So, the Orcs have magic users? We have our own, and I’m sure they can counter them.” Erinn said, pointing at the mages on the roof of the Fort.

“Orc Shamans aren’t regular spell casters, they practice blood magic and sacrificial rituals! We need to stop them before it’s too late!” Hale cried out, looking franticly for a way to stop the Shamans. The Orcs were out of range of even the higher ranked archers, so Hale looked towards the Fort, shouting wildly to get the mages attention.

The mages didn’t turn towards Hale, but they had obviously seen the Orc shamans and came to the same conclusion as Hale. A large spell matrix formed in the air above the Fort.

The Orcs were out of range for most of their spells, but the strongest, a 5th rank mage, stepped forward and channeled her mana into a large 4th tier evocation. She feed a massive amount of Mana into the brightly glowing spell matrix overhead.

The construct started to form a large cloud shape made up of thousands of tiny snowflakes. The pressure from the Mana being used forced many of the lower ranked individuals in the town to kneel on the ground, unable to bear the strength of the spell forming.

The Mana cloud spread out from the roof of the fort, stretching hundreds of feet in each direction. The wind picked up, howling and throwing dust up into the air. Many of the citizens, terrified at the magical display, huddled together in their homes.

Erinn stared at the sky, shocked by the sheer power being unleashed by the mage.

With a bellowed incantation from the mage, the spell matrix erupted in a flash of light. The cloud stopped its expansion, before it began to spin rapidly in the sky.

A large vortex appeared in the center of the cloud, containing massive shards of ice, some as large as the Orcs below, formed in the sky above the Orc Shamans and their Goblin Guards.

Seeing the Spell being unleashed, everyone on the walls started to cheer. They knew that the Orc would not be able to counter the large amount of Mana the spell contained. This was a level of destruction that only the finest Illyrian mages could summon.

Erinn watched as the large pillars of ice hung high up in the air above the Orcs, before swiftly hurtling towards them. The Lead Orc Shaman, looking up at the falling ice, pulled a sharp and jagged looking knife from within his robes.

Turning towards a male captive, he sliced the throat of the prisoner kneeling in front of him before covering his hands in blood. A wide and fanatical grin formed on his face as he lifted his blood covered hands towards the falling ice.