Soulstaff Legacy:  Generation 1
Blizzard War
Chapter Five

Night had fallen.  The twin moons, Pyr and Ruse , were both only half-full.  Their intermingling light of red and blue became a dark, muted purple which covered the land.  The two humans, elf, and sprite stood on a cliff, overlooking the sleepy village they intended to raid.  Arkos felt another pang of conscience at the thought, as he stared down at the collection of soft lights in the valley.  It seemed so peaceful and unprepared.  A wall did surround it, and it was guarded, but even from his vantage point, Arkos could see it wasn't guarded very well.

The village was small, maybe large enough to hold fifty people at best.  This further weighed on Arkos' conscience, as such a small village could not have considerable stockpiles of supplies.  He imagined it was quite the struggle to survive at all in this frozen land.  And once they took those supplies, there was no guarantee the villagers would make it through the winter.

Evidently, Kappa had reached the same conclusion, because Arkos realized he was arguing with Ralather in harsh whispers.

"You're going to kill all those people with this plan," the sprite hissed.  "They look like they need all the supplies they can get!"

"Nonsense.  And even if that were so, they are the enemy," Ralather reminded him.  "Decreasing their numbers, by any means, only works to our advantage in the long run."

"The enemy?  They're simple villagers, not soldiers!"

"This is not up for discussion," Ralather said firmly.  "If you object, you can find some other way to get us supplies.  But I did not hear any better ideas at the meeting."

Kappa said nothing, but instead glared at Ralather and buzzed his wings angrily.

Daeval, however, was neither looking at the village nor watching the argument.  Instead, his eyes were on Arkos.  It was clear to him that the boy was troubled.  The way he glanced at the village, the way he clenched his fists.  He was not eager for battle--on the contrary, he wanted to avoid it.  The elf reached out and placed his hand on the boy's shoulder.  "You do not have to do this," he said softly.  "We could find another way."

Arkos glanced over his shoulder to Daeval and grimaced, as if this knowledge was more of a burden to him than anything else.  He looked back at the village and remembered his promise to Trini.  He had to come back alive.  And the only way to do that was to get supplies, or so Ralather believed.  Even if he could come up with another way, Ralather would not be swayed.  He steeled himself for the unpleasant task ahead and shook his head.  "I have to do this.  I must obey orders.  Ralather is still my commander."  He sighed and turned to face the cleric.  "But you and Kappa are not soldiers.  You can come and go as you like."

Daeval smiled grimly but shook his head.  "We will not abandon a friend."

"Enough talk," Ralather said, tugging at his mustache irritably, as he realized it needed trimming again.  "Let's move out."

* * * * *

Kappa had agreed, reluctantly, to scout the place out with his innate invisibility.  When he returned to the others, he reported that the manpower of the village's guards was spread pretty thin, especially on the south wall.  Ralather decided that was the best place to enter.

"I wonder why there are so few guards?" asked Arkos quietly as they moved toward the south wall.  "I know it's small, but..."

"The war," Kappa replied.  "Most of the young, strong men were probably recruited here, just like on Gontoria's side.  Not many left to defend the villages, especially one that isn't strategically important."

They again lapsed into silence as the south gate came into view.  As Kappa had claimed, there were only two guards standing at the closed gate.  Both were wearing chain mail and very heavy cloaks.  They shivered and rubbed various limbs vigorously, attempting to stay warm.  Now and again they would engage in quiet conversation.  They were completely oblivious to the party's presence, as they were well-hidden in the darkness.  Kappa and Daeval, however, could see as clearly as they could in daylight.

"Send in the elf," Ralather said.  "Claim you are a traveler, looking for a place to stay the night.  The garbs of Azedeth may give them pause--long enough for us to get the jump on them."

"Whoa, hold on a second," Kappa argued.  "You're using Daeval as bait?  What if the guards attack him right out?  People tend to kill first and ask questions later in a war."

"Do not fear, old friend," Daeval said.  "I do not mind.  But you may come with me, hidden from their eyes, as backup if I should need it."

This seemed to satisfy the sprite, as he nodded sternly and then vanished from sight.  Taking a breath to ready himself, Daeval began walking toward the gate, his mace tied to his belt.  The guards spotted him coming and tensed, drawing their swords.  Daeval made no hostile moves, but instead approached as if he had nothing to fear at all.

Ralather gave Arkos a silent hand gesture, telling him to take the one on the right.  The two soldiers then split up, circling around to come up on the guards' flank.  So engrossed with the elf, they did not see them.  And the wind howled just loud enough this night to keep them from being heard.  The two guards were speaking to Daeval softly as Arkos came up behind the right one.  They had lowered their guard a bit, but still kept their weapons drawn.

Ralather struck first, throwing his arm around the left guard's neck and then slipping the blade of his sword into the guard's back.  She gave a distinctively feminine groan as her sword slid from her numb fingers and she dropped to the ground, dead.  The right guard, also a young woman, cried out and then whirled just in time to face Arkos.

Arkos was paralyzed.  He stared at the girl dully, his sword drawn but down at his side.  He had fought and killed a number of bugbears, dwarves, and even men like himself on the battlefield.  But never a woman.  He had always been taught to protect women, to keep them away from harm.  How could he bring harm to one, even if he was ordered to?  Staring into her eyes, he saw fear but determination.  She seemed unsure of why he hesitated, but then resolved herself and moved forward to strike.  Arkos dimly was aware he had to bring up his shield, but it proved for naught.  Ralather had retrieved his sword from the first guard's body and moved in to cut down the second one.

The woman fell without a cry, face-first into the snow.  She looked up at Arkos, her eyes full of tears of pain.  Instinctively, the boy reached out to her, to help her; to comfort her.  But Ralather finished her off by plunging his sword in her neck, ending her life quickly.  The woman's eyes dulled and went completely blank, the last thing she gazed having been the stunned and paled soldier before her.

"What happened?" asked Ralather.  "You hesitated.  You could have been killed had she not done so, as well."  He wiped the blood from his sword. 

Arkos could not answer.  He felt as if he had fallen from his body and into a dark pit, unable to move or even call out for help.  Some part of his mind was demanding this was all a trick; a dream or illusion, and could not possibly be real.  The woman's eyes continued to stare at him, unseeing, yet somehow judging.  They were brown, like Trini's, and for a moment he saw himself standing over her own corpse.  His legs weakened and he felt his head get lighter.  Suddenly, Daeval was there to steady him, his lithe elven hands somehow firmly keeping him on his feet.

"Damn it, boy," Ralather swore.  "You told me you had fought on the field before.  This is no time to fall apart."  He searched both bodies for a key, and then proceeded to unlock the gate to let them in.  "Pull yourself together, or you won't survive this.  We're going in."

Arkos gave a shuddering sigh and mentally commanded his stomach contents to stay where they were.  "Yes, sir."  He nodded to Daeval, who let him go, and he stood up on his own.  Trying to force his emotions to the back of his mind, he numbly walked to the gate with Ralather.

Daeval and Kappa exchanged looks, but accompanied the two humans.  Ralather unlocked the gate, nodded to the others to get ready, and then kicked it open.  He glanced around, saw nobody in the immediate area, and gestured for the others to follow him quickly.  Once inside, they quickly took cover behind an old shed that was near the gate.  Since it was night and the town guard was sparse, there were few people in the streets.

"What now?" asked Kappa in a whisper.  "Should I scout around?"

"No time," Ralather responded.  "The longer we're here, the more likely they'll find us.  Our best bet is to head north, near the center of the village."

Arkos didn't really listen to their conversation any further than that.  His thoughts kept turning back to the guards.  Had they been mothers?  If their husbands died in the war, as well, would their children become orphans, like him?  He felt as cold on the inside as he did on the outside, as if all the blood had been drained from his body.  Only when he saw a bit of pink out of the corner of his eye did he return his attention to the world around him.  Turning his head, he saw a young girl, about twelve or so, carrying a basket and wearing a dull, pink cloak to stay warm.  She had apparently been walking this way, spotted the party, and froze.

Arkos tried to say something, but his voice had left him.  The girl, however, shrieked something in Cryzzian and dropped her basket.  Ralather whirled around, drawing his sword.  In a brief moment of panic, Arkos realized he would not hesitate to kill the girl.  He grabbed Ralather's wrist.  "Th-there's no time!  We must hurry!" he stammered out, that being the best excuse he could think of to spare the girl without disobeying his commander's authority.

Ralather seemed torn by this, but his mind was made up for him when Daeval and Kappa, following Arkos' lead, ran for it.  Keeping his blade at the ready, Ralather turned and followed them.  Arkos cast a glance back to the frightened girl before running after them, a look of relief about him.

They heard more shouting, again in Cryzzian, ahead of them.  With no choice, they had to alter their course and run out into the open.  Two guards, again female, were waiting for them, their swords drawn.  A third came behind them, trapping them.  "We'll have to fight our way through!" Ralather shouted, causing Arkos to flinch.

As he was in the back, Arkos drew his sword and turned to face the guard behind them.  "Please," he said.  "I do not wish to fight you."  But if the woman understood Gontorian, she did not respond.  Instead, she charged at him, recklessly.  It was clear these women were not fully trained, but probably just took up their husband's and brother's armor to defend the village while they were gone.  Arkos easily sidestepped her attack.  She left herself wide open, but Arkos let the window pass by.  Annoyed by what she perceived to be an enemy taunting her, she charged once more.  This time, Arkos sidestepped and struck the flat of his blade hard against her helmet.  The blow caused her to stumble, and then fall into the snow.  Arkos quickly checked her, and found she was not dead, only knocked out.  "Forgive me," he muttered as he stood up.  A quick glance around showed him that the other two women had fallen, most likely dead.  Daeval stepped up to him, concerned.  He looked down at the girl, and as if realizing what Arkos had done, silently nodded his approval.

"Good work," Ralather said, seeing Arkos' opponent.  He used one of the guards' cloaks to wipe his blade clean of blood.  "Now we must hurry before more show up..."

"Not so fast!" erupted a heavily accented female voice from behind them.  Another woman stepped out from behind an ally, wearing a brown fur cloak.  She wore no armor, but carried a quarterstaff in her hand.  "Filthy Gontorians," she said, "you will not get away with this!"  Her eyes, blue as the day sky, were burning with a rage that even gave Ralather pause.  Although the woman looked like an easy challenge alone, there was something about her that suggested she was more than what she appeared.  She carried an aura of power and authority with her, and a great deal of confidence.

"Leave her to me," Kappa said, and he began chanting the words of a magic spell.  However, to their surprise, the woman began to do the same.  Suddenly, Kappa's voice died out.  His mouth continued to move, but no sound came out of it.  His spell fizzled as a result, and he glanced around, confused.

Before this unexpected development could sink in, the woman raced forward.  Twirling her staff in hand, she struck both Daeval and Arkos at once, knocking them back in opposite directions.  Passing by them as if they were no more than a minor obstacle, she went straight at Ralather.  Having had more time to prepare, Ralather met her flurry of blows with his sword and shield, keeping her at bay.  Arkos sat up in the snow and watched, stunned, thoroughly impressed by the woman's speed and valor.

Growing frustrated, Ralather attempted to go on the offensive, throwing his weight into a slash forward.  Rather than try to block it, the woman performed a backwards flip, landing on her feet gracefully.  She then began to chant again, pointed at Ralather, and unleashed three beams of blue energy that slammed into him with such force that he fell backwards.  Ralather groaned but remained down.  Daeval hurried over to him.

Arkos quickly got to his feet, as well, just as the woman turned toward him.  A moment passed as they stared each other down, and Arkos had to admit he admired this woman.  He had never known a female that possessed such strength and courage.  He took her in with his eyes, now finally having a chance to get a good look at her.  She had shoulder-length brown hair, blue eyes, and a smattering of freckles upon her nose.  Her figure was fairly lithe, although she had some muscle, and she stood almost half a foot shorter than Arkos.

"You're next," she spat, her eyes locked onto his, as if probing for a weakness.

Arkos lowered his sword.  "It doesn't have to be this way," he said without blinking.

This comment seemed to enrage the woman further.  She pointed at him and began the same incantation that took out Ralather.  Arkos tensed, but knew he could not reach her in time to stop her.  He held up his shield to protect himself in vain.  But just before she finished, Kappa appeared out of nowhere and latched onto her leg.  The silence spell that enveloped him spread to her, blocking her voice.  Arkos did not hesitate.  By the time she realized what had happened, Kappa let go of her leg and Arkos tackled her to the ground.

He quickly grabbed hold of her wrists to keep her from moving.  The extra weight of his armor helped keep her pinned down.  The woman struggled furiously, looking up at Arkos with unending hate.  But suddenly, her expression changed and she smiled.  Wriggling a bit helplessly, she said in a husky voice, "Will you take me now?"

His face going crimson, Arkos quickly let go of her, which is just what she had been waiting for.  Immediately her fist shot up, striking him in the chin.  Arkos fell off of her, his nose bleeding.  She leapt to her feet, grabbed her staff, and was about to bring it down on his unprotected head when someone shouted in the distance.  "Ashkevron!  Velikan!"

The woman froze in mid-swing and whirled to face the speaker.  It was one of the town guards, running toward her.  The two met and began speaking hastily in Cryzzian, apparently having forgotten the Gontorians.  Daeval made his way to Arkos and helped him to his feet.

"What's happening?" Arkos asked, dazed.

"Velikan...the Cryzzian word for 'giant'," the elf explained, examining his bloody nose.

Apparently Ashkevron had overheard them, for she then turned back to them, angry.  "That's right.  Frost Giants.  Three of them, and they are heading this way.  And because you Gontorian scum killed almost half of the town guard, we are helpless.  We could barely face them at full strength!"

"Why would Frost Giants come here?" asked Arkos.

"Why else?  To raid for supplies," Ashkevron answered.

"Guess they had the same idea," Kappa muttered.  He then gasped and rubbed his neck gently, realizing his voice had returned.

"Ralather?" Arkos asked Daeval after he had healed his nose.

"Out cold.  I tried to heal him, but the damage is too severe."

"And that means," Kappa said, "that you're in charge kid.  What'll it be?  We could probably get what we need while the giants distract them.  We're the least of their worries now," he added in a low voice.

Arkos looked to his two companions in confusion.  They were looking to him for leadership now?  He glanced down at Ralather's unconscious form.  He knew what he would want done; what Ralather would expect Arkos to do in his absence.

He looked over to the woman, Ashkevron, and the guard.  They had apparently just finished whatever plan they had cooked up and were about to depart, leaving the Gontorians on their own.  "Wait!" he called after her.  Ashkevron readied her staff, anticipating an attack, as she turned to face him.

"No time for you.  Consider this your lucky day."

"Hold on," he said.  He gestured to himself and the others.  "Let us help you..."

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