Five

A terrified looking Kraethor sat between Pylon, a powerful necromancer, and Utoph, a spellsword captain. All the others, who had been summoned to Lowm sat around a long stone table in one of Rawlith's courtyards, except for the Drak, who would not likely fit in the human sized seats. Dlun and Finn stood behind their chairs. Kraethor had no idea why he was chosen to attend this meeting, but he was sitting in between one of the most powerful living necromancers, and a skilled combatant with over a century of experience. The others all looked calm though.

Rawlith finally entered the courtyard, flanked by two of his honor guard, also spellswords. The three Necrophytes leapt to their feet in his presence, as did the others, but not as urgently. Rawlith waved his hand and told them to be seated.

"This is the first time in eons that all five factions have gathered together in peace." Rawlith said, "That in itself is an accomplishment. I'm sure that my messengers have already told you of the evil that is rising beyond our northern borders. But we have defeated it before, and if we stand as one we can defeat it again."

Eebon snorted, and Dlun snarled through his teeth.

"We are the finest warriors in Tas'mar." Eebon said bluntly, "If the story is true then it a Northlander that killed the assassin the first time. And he was most likely a Necrophyte in the first place."

Dlun slammed a huge fist down on the stone table in anger, "Did you forget blademaster? A Drak killed the human, the Northlander only crippled him, and even a crippled dog can still bite!"

Utoph leaned forward, "He was no Necrophyte! It was said that he killed entire patrols with only his sword. If your claim to being the finest warriors is true, then would he not be a Northlander?"

That comment of course threw the Northlanders and Necrophytes into a heated argument. Slae rubbed his temples with two fingers and groaned quietly. Rawlith slumped back in his chair. Only the Brak'thor remained undisturbed. The shouts, curses, and insults ceased with the crackle of thunder, and all eyes turned back to Rawlith, their former arguments forgotten. The necromancer's eyes glowed white, and sizzled with power. When the two factions had completely calmed and returned to their seats his eyes returned to normal.

The ancient necromancer continued as if nothing had happened. "For centuries now we have all fought meaninglessly among ourselves. And now even as the threat of invasion from the north looms over our heads you would still fight each other?"

"If I may?" Slae asked somewhat timidly, "I do not mean to sound ignorant, but we Velten have noticed very little change over the last few years. I do not see how an invasion can be immanent, especially not from the north. The northern tribes are leaderless, and fight with each other more than they do the peoples of Tas'mar."

Dlun snarled again, "You notice no difference because the Velten remain secured in the center of the other four. We are finding ourselves harder pressed by the day. My brother has succeeded in uniting most of our tribes and clans, but we are facing increasingly large fleets of northern ships, and our homelands have even been assaulted by foreign men before. I, myself have seen a fleet of ships flying the flags of three separate tribes, and yet they were one in their attack on us."

Rawlith motioned with his hand towards Dlun as if the Drak had just spoken for him. "Slae, how many villages and smaller less defended towns have you lost in the last five years to foreign men?"

Realization started to dawn on Slae's face. "I do not know the exact number, but that has become an ever growing problem to my people. King Aldomer has recently ordered several forts to be built on our borders and is deploying more and more cataphract such as myself to patrol our lands." He then added quietly, "We, ahh, we had just thought it was Drak raiders." That comment drew another growl from both Dlun and Finn.

"My warriors rescued a village of over one hundred Velten from a life of slavery in the north. We have done such, many times before. And not just in your land, also in the Necrodom." Norak said, only cementing Rawlith's point.

Turning to Captain Utoph, Rawlith said, "Utoph, you've been on the border recently. Tell us what the opposition is on the frontlines."

"My forces are pressed harder by the day. In the last few years we've been attacked more frequently, and the enemy comes in greater numbers. Recently we've seen more advanced armor and even a few siege weapons. I have asked for more spellswords and necromancers to be sent to our frontlines, as my troops morale is beginning to decay."

"I trust it is the same on your border?" Rawlith said turning toward the three Northlanders.

Eebon and Dune said nothing, they were more concerned with leading attacks on the southern and eastern borders. Cyan however, being and interceptor, and well connected with the defense of Northland, nodded solemnly. "We are also pushed harder than usual. Jarard and Kil'thas have even considered a counter offensive into the wild lands. Eebon choked at that point, and Dune's jaw dropped, they'd heard nothing of an attack into the north.

Tolon looked around, and spoke up nervously, "I…. ahh… How do we know that this is the same person that assassinated the last emperor? It doesn't make sense to me why an assassin of unparalleled skill would lay aside his profession and become a military leader."

All eyes turned to Rawlith, Tolon had obviously brought up a good point.

Rawlith cleared his throat, "Because I knew the last emperor. I was alive when he was killed. I have sensed this assassin's power before, and I would know if he were to rise again. How he has returned from the underworld, even I cannon say. But I do know that if he is allowed to keep living than we are all as good as dead."

Jaws dropped speechlessly and there were murmurs of disbelief around the table, they all knew Rawlith was ancient, but to say that he was alive during the time of the emperor almost defied imagination.

"Are there any more doubts, or concerns about the matter at hand?" Rawlith asked.

No one spoke.

"Then in that case I would suggest you all get some rest. Eat and sleep, warriors, for in three days you must depart north, to settle this once and for all."

- - -

Utoph led the line of warriors towards the northern border. Being a soldier, and having traveled to and from the frontlines often he was familiar with the way, as well as the smaller less traveled, paths. He mainly used the latter in regard to secrecy. The thought of someone learning of their mission and spreading the word did not sit well with him at all.

Utoph rode without any armor, save for his steel gauntlets and pauldrons. A large broadsword, light enough to be used with one hand, but large enough to be used with two, rested on his back. His face, unlike most Necrophytes was well worn, and creases ran down his face, but his eyes were hard and determined, and darted back and forth, searching for any threat. Utoph was not a large man, but rather was very slim. His skin was a deep tan from years of being in the sun, and his hands were gnarled from handling a sword.

Most of the warriors were silent, although the three Brak'thor constantly chattered among themselves, and occasionally asked a question of the adjacent warriors. Their language itself was very rapid, and to the humans and Drak only sounded like squeaks, chirping, and an odd squeal. The three warriors rode no steed, and walked along, sometimes getting ahead of Utoph and the others, and sometimes lagging behind to look at something that they found of interest. Rine was by far the most energetic of the three, and would often fly into a near tree to look around, and would even more often dash off the path to snatch a small animal for a quick snack.

Cyan rode alongside Kraethor. Despite the differences and hostility between their two factions, the interceptor and alchemist had become friends, or at least gotten used to each other. At first they had asked hundred of questions regarding the other's culture, homeland, or profession. But after a time, their interest began to grow more personal, and the questions drifted to feelings, emotions, and thoughts on life in general.

As dusk of the first day drew near, Utoph called a halt, then quickly looked around, obviously looking for something in particular and irritated at not finding it. After several minutes of visually scanning the path ahead, and surrounding woods, he dismounted, and signaled for the others to do the same, then motioned for them to gather in close.

"There is supposed to be an observation post, manned by five, somewhere near here." Utoph said, his voice almost a whisper, "But I've seen no sentries, and no campfires. I find it disturbing that they would leave such a path unguarded."

Slae's hand reflexively strayed to his sword hilt. "What do you want to do?"

"I'll take Zylond and Tolon with me and search the area for the sentries. The rest of you stay here. If you hear shouts, then come after us ready for battle!"

Utoph and Tolon drew their swords, Zylond selected a javelin, and the three disintegrated into the growing night.

- - -

Tolon and Zylond were experienced scouts, and Utoph was a seasoned warrior, the three made hardly a sound as they moved through the woods. Utoph led the way, and seemed to know the general location of the post, although he moved back and fourth a lot, making the two scouts somewhat nervous. Suddenly, Utoph jerked up a fist, signaling a halt, the motioned the two younger scouts to him. He pointed ahead through the trees.

At first, Zylond and Tolon could see nothing, then after a few moments could barely discern a faint glow of fire. Almost completely hidden behind the dense foliage. The three stood stone still for several minutes, waiting to see if there was anyone there. Finally, a lone figure strode into the firelight, and he was certainly not a Necrophyte.

The man, at least what could be seen of him, was heavily tattooed. A network of intricate designs ran from his bald head, down his neck, back, and shoulders. He was clothed in animal furs, seemingly wolf furs, and carried a primitive looking axe. He stood in the firelight for a few moments, then called some foreign word, and four other men appeared, similarly tattooed and dressed.

"Wild men." Utoph whispered, "There could be more of them. Tolon, move back as quickly as you dare, and bring the others, but make sure they come silently."

Tolon nodded and set off.

Zylond reached back with his left and selected a second javelin, then knelt by the base of a large tree, holding the javelin shafts flat against the ground. He looked over at Utoph, to see the spellsword captain moving his hand over his sword and muttering strange words. Zylond didn't know if his eyes were deceiving him, or if the sword started to glow suddenly.

A tap on Utoph's back nearly made him jump, but it was only Tolon, who had returned with the others in tow. Utoph pointed at the wild men, still standing in the firelight, then made a cut throat gesture. Norak nodded, then motioned for Rine and Tolon to follow him and moved to the right. Eebon, his face carved from stone, moved to the left, Dune and Cyan following. Slae set his sword down, and took up his bow, selecting a long black arrow from his quiver.

The only warning the wild men received was the snap of twig, then Eebon darted into the firelight. His sword flew through the air in a wide arc, taking off a wild man's head. At the same time Norak bounded into the light, a sword in each hand, he landed on the shoulders of one of the men, driving him to the ground, then parried an axe swing from the second wild man, and driving his other sword into his chest. Rine and Tolon sprinted into the fray, plunging their swords as one into the torso of the man Norak had jumped on. A javelin sailed through the air, impaling a Wildman through the stomach. Dune moved around Eebon and cut off the legs off the last man, then swung his axe down and into the chest of the man as he toppled to the forest floor.

There were a few seconds of silence before angry shouts tore through the night. Dlun and Finn's unmatched night vision caught sight of ten more wild men charging towards the group of Tas'mar warriors. The two Drak roared in ecstasy, and moved to meet the new threat, their war hammer and axe ready. Finn, being the faster of the two reached the wild men first, and pounded his hammer into the first man's chest. The unfortunate wild mans chest exploded in mist of red, as fragments of bone, and large drops of blood flew through the air. Dlun was only a second behind and cut two men in half with a single swing of his axe. Then they were surrounded, but the two warriors didn't care, they were enraptured by the carnage, and didn't feel the blades that slashed at their arms and bounced off their armor.

It didn't take long for the others to figure out what had just happened. Utoph was the next to enter the fray, he weaved in and out of the flying blades, his enchanted sword hummed as it cut at the wild men, cutting through them like a knife through butter. A javelin thrown by Zylond hit a wild man in the throat, and a black arrow kill another. The wild men's numbers were already reduced to one, and Dlun held that one in the air with one hand, then snapped his neck with an expert flick of his thumb.

- - -

"I'm not going any farther." Utoph said bluntly.

"What?" Pylon said, finally speaking up. None of the others had even heard him speak before.

"The men stationed at this outpost were under my command. Their deaths are my responsibility. I will stay here and hold the line until reinforcements come. Then I oversee repairs and new defensive measures. Only when I'm convinced that the defense of Necrodom are efficient will I leave."

"Utoph, we were sent on this mission by Rawlith himself! You are a mere captain, you cannot disobey the head of Council of Necromancers as your own discretion!"

"You Necromancers are all alike. All you understand is protocol. Had either of you ever served in combat in the last century you'd understand that a soldier cannot always follow the general's orders. I'm staying."

Pylon started to move towards Utoph, but Eebon placed a hand against his chest and pushed him back. "He's right, sorcerer." Eebon said, "Let him be."

Dune moved to Eebon's side and flexed the massive muscles in his chest, showing his support of Eebon's decision. Pylon finally backed off.

- - -

The group was silent again, and now even the energetic Brak'thor were quiet, all were deep in thought of the latest happenings. If the wild tribes could penetrate the Necrophytes defenses, how long would it be until deeper strikes were made into the heart of Tas'mar?

Although Eebon has supported Utoph's decision, he had regretted seeing the captain leave the group. He still despised the use of magic, but the spellsword captain had shown remarkable wisdom in his decision to stay behind. Utoph was true warrior, of that much Eebon was sure. And he hoped that the Necrophyte would be able to catch up to them in the days to come.


(note): Sorry it took me so long to get this chapter posted. I got distracted with a couple more ideas for stories, (Corporation Wars, and Jonathan), but I think I'll come back to this one for awhile. If anyone has ideas of how I can improve it, or would like to know details on a specific character, or wants to know anything else in general, send me a message, and I'll be more than happy to explain it.