Black Dawn - Chapter 17: Leaving and Landing

Sand and Rail piece together the plot at the Fort on Ys, while Gen. Obsidianfist prepares the ruined Karagard Keep outpost for the arrival.

Armageddon TM and its characters and story are copyright Terry Tibke. All rights reserved.

Music & SFX

[Leaving for Valhalla] by Alexander Nakarada, [Borgar 135bpm] by Alexander Nakarada, [Highland Song] by Alexander Nakarada, [Starry Dream]  by David Fesliyan, [Unfolding Revelation] by Alexander Nakarada, [Broken Village] by David Fesliyan, [The Devil’s Cell] by David Fesliyan, [A World In Trouble] by David Fesliyan, [The Brotherhood] by X, [Cockroaches] by Alexander Nakarada

Drinking & swallowing soup by mariekedekoker, Footsteps on concrete by NachtmahrTV, Footsteps on Stone by Fission9, Audioblocks Sound [See Previous Episodes for All Other Effects]

Jake Utter [Voice Actor] - Voices Turim Gliderlance

Andrew Embers [Voice Actor] - Voices Sand Rocketblade

Demetrius Hazel [Voice Actor] - Voices Lasertooth and Darf Bloodshedder

Kobe Markworth [Voice Actor] - Voices Thunderclap and Gulanis

Sean Valley [Voice Actor] - Voices Strevan Pickaxe and Dithkanir

Hayley Craig [Voice Actress] - Voices Jaffrine Maplebow

Morgana LeFaye [Voice Actress]- Voices Tartara Silverwing

Tallent [Voice Actor] - Voices General Panthis Obsidianfist 

JJtheJetvox [Voice Actor] - Voices Meineken Shadowstar and Aurthil

Brittanie Arwen [Voice Actor] - Voices Sinfa Songbird

The Worlds Okayest DM [Voice Actor] - Voices Pond Grimslug

Ben Habel [Voice Actor] – Voices Lakalith Paledust

Maia Harlap [Voice Actor] – Voices Lala Truffleroot and Kithria Wraithchasm 

Aaron Anderson [Voice Actor] – Voices Aldor Steelaxe and Dark Elves

Chris Bellinger [Voice Actor] – Voices Gundak and Dwarf extras

Alexander Doddy [Voice Actor] – Voices Rail Markrune

Callum Garner [Voice Actor] – Voices Gewurmarch Rottbone

Transcript

Chapter 17—Leaving and Landing

Sand sat across from Rail at a small, wooden table covered with delicious dishes. The air was cold and the sun now shone high in the sky. They were out on a veranda made of thick planks and lined with a railing of twisted, wild wood. The rangers’ fort was a thing to behold.

Its scattered edifices were strewn about the branches of the treetops, firmly attached by wooden frameworks and bridges that ran back and forth between the largest of the trees. Sand looked out, and in all directions, he saw the spikes of many of the shorter trees. But the taller pines that surrounded the outer rim beyond concealed the fort.

“It was built in this bowl of trees with purpose,” explained Rail. “All airborne enemies, save those who fly directly over us, can’t see the Fort. It’s been successful so far, at any rate.”

“Aren’t you worried someone might do just that?” asked Sand, peering down to the grassy floor below them.

“There are few who wish to make us an enemy, but fewer who know we exist, or our purpose for being here at all. The Dragon Army probably knows there’s some protector on Ys, but they haven’t discovered who just yet. In fact, they haven’t cared what we forest dwellers do; we’re a small threat to their power.”

“I’ve never seen a place built like this,” said Sand, still gazing past Rail to the greenery beyond. “In Aradúin, the elves live in the trees like you do. They use magical means to wind their woods about and amidst their homes though. You’ve built this all by the means of men—the hammer and nail and good planning.”

Rail gave a modest nod. “The humans can’t take all the credit. The Fort was built by all of the races that dwell here. There were many elves here from Aradúin in past centuries. To tell the truth, they’re the ones who founded this place. Some of the works here have been crafted with those magical methods, while others were created with the arts of mankind. Some of the fairies have built their homes in typical fairy fashion, as have the centaurs. We all coincide peacefully here. It’s our duty to protect our island, and we do it as one.”

It was probably the only thing he’s said that reminded Sand of Turim.

Rail looked skyward about the rim of tall trees, but at length, he continued. “Feel free to eat anything before you. Consider yourself our guest.” Then he waved his arm over the table where the food sat hot still, as though in invitation.

Sand glanced over to the doorway into the tree, guarded by two cloaked sentries. Guest indeed, he scoffed privately. “Thank you,” he replied, glad to be getting to the point. “Now, as for Turim, what more do you know?”

Rail sat back and bit into an appaza he’d taken from a bowl in the center of the table. Crunching, he swallowing it down before answering. “In the city of Centerland, to the north of us, is a pub we rangers often visit for tidings and pleasure—the Mint Hippogriff. When we asked old Critchard about the Dark Knights, he told us what happened.” The ranger paused to take another bite of his appaza.

Sand wasn’t terribly hungry—not while he worried for Turim—but he spooned at a bowl of porridge and sipped at some plum cider to be polite. He was getting restless. “And then he told you . . .?” he asked as kindly as his impetus allowed him.

“He said that his niece had taken the knight and a ninja with her on her flying machine,” replied Rail with a cool eye. “There were several Dark Knights who’d come into his pub looking for your friend—The God knows why. But when my three rangers interfered, the Dark Knights gave chase. No one saw the rangers return, but some said they saw them flee the city with the Dark Knights in close pursuit. We told Critchard to let us know when his niece comes back. We’d like to have a word.”

Sand leaned back in his seat, the weight of his armor causing the chair to creak slightly. “Turim must’ve been wondering the same thing I am: why are Dark Knights roaming around on this island?”

“We have our suspicions, to be sure,” Rail said. Then his confident mouth turned down. “But I truly do not know. They’ve been seen in towns farther north. But only ever in ones or twos. And as they were along the coast, we believed they’d stopped at port for just a short time in their travels. Beyond that, we’ve heard few tidings. After this nonsense though, you can be sure we’ll be more alert.”

“And you never told anyone about this?”

“We’ve done our best to avoid throwing stones at such a large monster. But when some of my rangers disappear and I know the Dragon Army is involved, I take certain liberties.”

“If my commander was to discover Dragon Army activity here, he’d bring attention to it as soon as possible. Perhaps a week’s time wasn’t soon enough for what he found out.”

“But what could be so urgent that he cause you such distress and give him need to kidnap my rangers when he went?” retorted Rail.

Sand leaned forward in his chair rather quickly before he was able to calm himself and speak again. “You can trust there was no kidnapping of any kind. Maybe your rangers were slain by Dark Knights and you haven’t discovered their bodies yet.” It was a dig, but the ranger had it coming spouting those kinds of accusations.

Rail rose from his seat, twisted with aggravation. “Don’t think for one moment we would’ve overlooked them in our search! We’ve investigated from the westernmost wood to the Mountains of Yevree along the eastern coast of Ys. Nor should you think that you’re anything more than a guest here. I bid you hold your tongue in future assertions!” He took a breath and unclenched his balled fist.

That riled him up, thought Sand. He peered over the edge of the veranda. Lasertooth and Thunderclap lay below. The great beasts were sitting, eating their fill of beef and fish from large wooden bowls, and were being well tended.

Rail didn’t sit back down. He stepped to the railing and leaned, gazing out. “Their tracks disappeared close to where we found the Dark Knights. I believe they might’ve gone with Critchard’s niece in her machine—she would’ve rescued them if they were in danger.”

Sand sat back at this. “I apologize. What’s this flying machine you’ve mentioned a couple of times now?”

Rail narrowed his eyes a bit, and Sand wasn’t sure he was going to say. But eventually he spoke. “Sinfa is one of the most brilliant minds I’ve ever encountered, but I fear her creations may be far greater than what she can guard on her own.”

“What do you mean?”

“She’s built a flying ship from the hull of a sailing vessel. It’s aided us in the rescue of dragonite’s slaves many times these past years—ones from Centerland and Pelth here on Ys, and some of the other islands. Last year I thought it destroyed in an accident. At that news, I was almost happy, if not for the great help it had been. But it seems she’s rebuilt it now. And if she’s revealed it again, then it was for a great purpose.”

Sand’s face narrowed itself in confusion at the thought of such a possibility. “I’m… just awestruck, I guess. A flying ship?”

“I’m just glad the girl saved herself, and that she wasn’t carrying any Ysians at the time,” replied Rail.

“So what shall we do next then?” asked Sand. “I’d venture that Turim is trying to return to our keep right now. And if I know my Commander, the rangers have gone with him.”

“They wouldn’t leave the island without giving me word.”

“Perhaps they left in so much haste they couldn’t,” interjected Sand. The statement had come out far too much as a fact. “Were the Dark Knights and the pale elves enough of a threat that they’d need to escape—perhaps flee toward some other destination?”

“Perhaps.”

“Then ‘perhaps’ I’ll be returning home soon.”

“Then ‘perhaps’ I’ll be going with you,” spoke Rail coolly. He stood, placing his palms on the table. “If my rangers have gone there, I’m retrieving them. I don’t want any involvement in Dragon Army business. That would jeopardize us all.”

“Do as you wish. But like it or not, the very existence of the Dragon Army jeopardizes not only your people, but every person on the face of Caball. If your rangers have spent time with Turim, then they must already believe as we do.”

Sand rose from his seat to meet Rail’s hard gaze.

“’Perhaps’,” returned Rail. “Time will tell that tale, Lieutenant.” Then he turned and made for the door. “If you’re done with breakfast then?”

Sand nodded, and followed after. He’d known Rail a handful of hours. He wondered how many days he’d have to tolerate him.

Inside, a stairway wound around a trunk several times before it reached the ground level, passing many doors along the way. After descending the steps, they were joined by two other rangers.

These two were cloaked in dark green. One was an elf; he was tall and moved like a falling leaf. The other was a man with a dark scruff on his chin. They were calm, but Sand caught their eyes on him several times in watchfulness.

That bothered him but he wasn’t sure why. He reminded himself that, if these rangers were to visit the keep, they could expect no less in the officers’ quarters or the knights’ barracks. This was something of the equivalent. 

From the doorway set amidst the great trunk, Sand looked out across the forest floor and saw Lasertooth and Thunderclap. They’d just finished eating and were now lying flat on their bellies. Small bursts of sunlight burned through the forest canopy and shone on their backs.

“Time to rise, my friends,” stated Sand, walking towards them. “We’d better get back to Genova. The Commander has likely gone on without us.”

Rail trod at his side, and behind followed the pair of rangers from the doorway.

The two dragons stirred slowly. When they got to their feet, they stretched their wings, and waved their tails like two enormous serpents. Sand stood facing them, but took notice of the rangers behind him as they took a few cautious steps away.

Rail sent the watchers off with quiet orders. And when Sand turned, he offered Thunderclap as a mount for the leader of the woodsmen.

“No thank you,” Rail replied. “I’ll be bringing some of my rangers along with us and we have our own mounts. There are few left in these forests, but the forest griffons are loyal to us yet. We’ll be ready to depart shortly. If you’ll excuse me, I’ve a few last matters to attend to. I’ll return in a moment.”

Sand wondered where the Dark Knights they’d captured were being held, and how long it would continue that way. He took a step closer to Lasertooth, glad to have a few moments alone with them before the rangers returned. It was the first time he didn’t feel like a prisoner.

 “Why would the Commander leave without us?” spoke the deep voice of Thunderclap.

“I don’t know,” replied Sand. “But we have to assume he has an excellent reason. This ranger leader and I, believe it has something to do with the presence of the Dragon Army, which is far too close to Cornerius for my tastes. Don’t worry, I trust Turim knows what he’s doing.”

“I forebode an ill thing has come of him,” said Thunderclap. “Why didn’t we see him on our way, if he’s returning home?”

Sand sighed, trying to think it all through. “We must’ve missed him in the morning fog. It’s been heavy since the rains.”

Lasertooth’s rumbling voice rose. “This could be—or his path has now turned its course. But I too trust his judgement. He will do everything in his power to protect Genova. What was said of the Dragon Army though?”

Sand exchanged looks with Thunderclap, who was scowling. “There’s a presence here, that’s for certain.”

“I don’t like it,” growled Thunderclap. 

Sand patted Lasertooth’s neck, but the great copper said no more.

It wasn’t long before several forest griffons strode into the clearing from the trees with Rail and several other rangers holding their reins. The griffons seemed to talk with each other, their beaks letting out low squawks and clicks as they came forward.

“We’re prepared to depart. Are you ready, Lieutenant?” asked Rail. A pack was slung over his shoulder, and on his back was his long green-wood bow.

Sand leapt to Lasertooth’s shoulderplate and swung himself over the edge of his saddlemount. “Indeed. Let’s get moving,” he said, beginning to buckle himself in. “If there are Dark Knights around, there might be dragons nearby. And The God knows I’d like to avoid any contact with them if at all possible. We’re ill prepared for such a confrontation.” He didn’t think these rangers could deal with a dragon Wing if they unlucky enough to run into one before they made it to Grendelock Keep—even with a few griffons.

“As would I, Lieutenant,” replied Rail. He mounted his griffon and the other rangers followed in turn, scrambling onto the saddles of their own mounts. “The sooner we get there, the sooner we can get back.”

Something big was afoot, Sand was sure of it. But until he spoke with Turim he wouldn’t know how big. He knows what he’s doing, Sand reassured himself privately. He has to.

* * *

General Obsidianfist stepped through a damp mire of blood and old rainwater. The downpour had finally ceased. Heavy fog rolled in off the Gerathian Ocean and settled amidst the broken towers of Karagard Keep. Still, this change in the weather had sent the Dark Knights at the outpost into an uproar of excitement and furious preparation.

He’d led the strike against Karagard Keep himself. The victory against the dwarven Kights of the Hammer, although a small one, had given him pleasure. He’d regained some of his pride since the loss of the Knight of the Hawk on Ys.

With the fall of Karagard Keep, there’d been a reorganization of the surviving Dark Knights. The casualties hadn’t been few in number. The Knights of the Hammer had fought bravely until they couldn’t stand anymore and they’d fled, wounded and broken, into the Modukaz Forest.

He strode across the shattered stone atop the eastern wall of Karagard Keep, while his remaining troops prepared for the arrival of more soldiers, and the first wave of dragon Wings. But he was most expectant at the arrival of one man: Gewurmarch Rottbone, the great and fell leader of the Black Division of the Dragon Army.

Gewurmarch Rottbone was a fearsome sight to behold even in the darkness of his throne room when neither war nor bloodshed was about him. General Obsidianfist had never shown fear before the Gewurmarch, but deep in the pit of his stomach he’d felt the churn of discomfort that precedes fear. The Gewurmarch was cruel and merciless in his command. He held little respect for those who were beneath him in intelligence or prowess. And on the field of battle, he was one of the fiercest opponents ever set upon an enemy.

The naval vessels that had brought them across the Gerathian had set sail to join the Admiral’s small fleet that morning, leaving loads of supplies on shore to be hauled up to the outpost. A few of the swamp wyverns were helpful in bearing the burden, but most were far too unruly for the work. Every last warrior of the Black Dragon Army was coming by air and by ship to defeat the Knights of the Hawk at Grendelock Keep, and the supplies and accommodations needed were no short order. But that was only the beginning.

A shout from below the wall broke into his thoughts. It was one of the Captains. “General Obsidianfist, sir! Captain Pektris’ dragonite raptor scouts returned. They’re saying most of the dwarves were slain in the Modukaz, although they guess some escaped northward. What are your orders?”

The General thought for a moment, then turned to face his officer, his black cape whipping in the breeze. “Could they say how few?”

“No sir!”

“Then let them be. The stunted ones can do nothing to hold us back. The Knights of the Hammer are no more than a fable now. There’s no need to send our men after them and risk detection—not with Gewurmarch Rottbone arriving soon.”

“As you wish sir!” returned the Captain, and he saluted and left.

General Obsidianfist had disobeyed orders and risked being seen once already while on Ys. He’d suspected the Gewurmarch somehow knew of it. He’d sent the General’s swamp wyvern Wing with several ships across the sea to make the attack during the storms. Gewurmarch Rottbone probably hoped he’d be punished by the fury of lightning. But Panthis was no fool. He’d kept his Wings perched on the ships to keep them from the skies. That alone had saved them.

But he wouldn’t risk the discovery of their forces again—not yet. Not with so many among his troops who could inform Gewurmarch Rottbone of his actions. Moreover, especially not with the cloud of darkness approaching.

Far off, over the crashing waves of the Gerathian Ocean, a great blackness like a smothering swarm of flies covered the distant horizon. It was glorious, and terrifying.

The wind blew the ocean to frothing fury, and waves set themselves against the jagged shores like carrion descending on prey. In moments, events would be set in motion that would bring change to the entire world.

General Obsidianfist smiled beneath the darkness of his helm and shouted down to the Captains below. “Prepare for the arrival of Gewurmarch Rottbone and the rest of the Black Division!”

Shadows fell across each and every stone of Karagard Keep as the first waves of dragonriders touched down in the courtyard. And though the sun still shone in the afternoon hours, it was as though night had descended on the edge of Pebak ‘Din. General Obsidianfist took quick steps down to the courtyard as the winds picked up.

The Dark Knights stood in ranks. General Obsidianfist wanted each and every warrior presentable when the Gewurmarch and the other Generals arrived, and so far, they’d ordered themselves far more quickly than they had in the Fallow Marshes. They looked fierce. He was pleased. There would never be enough room within the walls of Karagard Keep to house all of the Wings that had previously been trained and assembled at the Black Spire, but there were plenty of clearings along the shore and pocking the woody edge of the Modukaz. They’d be camped there for only a short time at any rate.

As the General watched,  gusts stirred and the black dragon known as Runamuck alighted. Between the dragon’s scaly wings, Gewurmarch Rottbone sat in his saddlemount adorned in armor the color of night, and cloaked in shadow. On his back hung the blackblade that was his law. His helm stood tall, ornately horned like the dragons themselves, and in his eyes lay malice and cruelty.

The Gewurmarch wasted no time dismounting. His armor shod foot crashed to the earth, and a dark tremor of fear and awe rippled through the ranks like waves upon dark waters.

General Obsidianfist clenched his jaw with each stride the Gewurmarch took toward him. Gewurmarch Rottbone’s very presence gave everyone a sickening, unnerving feeling. Regrettable to the General, he was no exception.

When the Gewurmarch halted before him, the General knelt and bowed his head. “Gewurmarch Rottbone. Your arrival is welcome. All is prepared for the assault, my liege.” Still kneeling, his words felt clumsy.

Gewurmarch Rottbone silently waited a short moment, his shadow cast over General Obsidianfist. “Stand Panthis. I care little more for any elucidation on the preparations you’ve made here in this place of uncouth folk. I see that you’ve done as I request. That is the only imperative for your part.”

“Yes, my lord,” returned the General as he stood. “We’re ready to set our men in motion very soon, if the rains hold.”

“The weather seems to acquiesce to your desires.” The Gewurmarch’s eyes narrowed on him, seeming to gaze through any deception.

Though sorting through the chosen words the Gewurmarch used made General Obsidianfist’s head swim at times, he knew exactly what his lord had meant.

“Be at ease, General,” continued Gewurmarch Rottbone. “The strong survive those trials that have been set against them, while it is the weak who are culled. You are again proven to be among the former.”

General Obsidianfist allowed himself a short nod.

“Now, gather the other Generals. We have much to discuss to ready them for the first attack, which will be a slaughter the likes of which the world has not yet seen.”

“Yes, my lord,” said General Obsidianfist, snapping a short salute.

He stood and called to Pond, who came scuttling from one of the structures that remained standing nearby. “Take the Gewurmarch inside the council hall. I’ll gather the Generals and join you shortly.”