Black Dawn - Chapter 24: Tusokan Emptied

Both the dark elves and the Black Talon ninja flee as the Black Dragon Army arrives in Tusokan.

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

Music & SFX

[Dark Shadows] by David Fesliyan, [Conspiracy Theory] by David Fesliyan, [Creepy Low Atmosphere Ambience] by XX, [Powerful Epic Copyright Free Music] via Tunetank [Torn] by David Fesliyan, [Various] via Storyblocks Audio

Chip.aiff by juan pablo escobar plaza, wolf-growl.wav by newagesoup, Dog snarl (Self-made) by deleted_user_3424813, ANGRY DOG BARK SNARL Flat.wav by deleted_user_3424813, didg 3 sample.mp3 by CMeeson, Vanhan ajan sota, taistelu, miekkailu / Ancient, old time battle, combat, horses snorting and galloping, men shouting and barking, fencing, swords clanging, mix by YleArkisto, dogsled-passes-by-L-R-panning.wav by newagesoup, Alaskan Malamute Expressive Moan, Pant, Yip.wav by be-steele, Wolf run.wav by sabotovat, [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, Bartlett, and Darf Bloodshedder

Kobe Markworth [Voice Actor] - Voices Grandmaster Strongthorn, Thunderclap, Breed, 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 Aruthil

Brittanie Arwen [Voice Actor] - Voices Sinfa Songbird

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

Ben Habel [Voice Actor] – Voices Lakalith Paledust, Admiral Peelwarden

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

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

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

Alexander Doddy [Voice Actor] – Voices Rail Markrune

Callum Garner [Voice Actor] – Voices Gewurmarch Rottbone

Dio Kerr [Voice Actor] – Voices Dustorn and Hiryoto Dragonfright

Trent Michael Trachtenberg [Voice Actor] – Voices Evildrath Steelbone

Jerron Bacat [Voice Actor] – Goblins, Voices Artho, Ninjas, Dark Elves,

Transcript

Chapter 24—Tusokan Emptied

The night was both long and instantaneous at once. Now, in the early hours, the sun’s first beams broke through the morning salt mists that so often hung over Tusokan. Kithria and the other thaluí’s vision would soon dim to that of mere men and the uncomfortable brightness would come, yet that itself would not bring cease to their violent assault.

Much of the fighting had spread out into the city, away from the broken gates. The whole northwestern corner of Tusokan, and many long stretches of streets going both east and south from that point, now lay covered with the dead of dark elf, man, and kithkin. Some had fought, more were pitiable women and children who’d had no hope for survival.

Kithria Wraithchasm stood upon the wall near the gate. She’d held for a time there, unchallenged. She stood motionless now. “Is that?” she whispered to herself. Then she heard the sound of horns once again.

The terror-filled sound pealed with the noise of death as it echoed up through the streets from the harbor. But those horns weren’t the Tusokans, nor were they their own. No, these heralds weren’t any Kithria had heard before, and she could only come to think that they belonged to the Black Dragon Army. Their dark ally had come at last.

At first, she felt ease. The Dragon Army was strong and great in size. With their help, the victory of Evildrath’s Raiders would be complete. But she’d had a creeping feeling. Yet, Evildrath had been so certain about this attack, she’d buried it, trusting him.

Evildrath’s legionnaires came up the street now, returning toward her position with the speed of raptors. When she could finally make out their faces, her thoughts quickly turned to dread.

“Where’s Lord Steelbone?” she shouted down to Lakalith.

Where was he? Why now when the Dragon Army was on their way?

Lakalith called up. “He was killed. We’re without direction, and the Dragon Army is on its way now! We heard the horns shortly after Lord Steelbone fell.”

Kithria felt a fleeting sadness at the loss of their leader. But as she thought about the Black Division, she remembered their assassins’ failure—Dithkanir’s failure. Her failure. “No!” she thought. “They can’t possibly want us dead after such a victory here! Surely, we’ll be forgiven our misdeeds?” But she’d seen their ruthlessness. She knew that wasn’t true, no matter how hard she tried to convince herself.

She hardened her resolve once again and spoke with a new hatred to fuel her commands. “We shall leave the city before the Black Dragon Army moves in. They won’t be happy with our disobedience in attacking before they’ve arrived. Their use for us is at its end, or will be soon.”

Lakalith smirked. “I agree with you wholeheartedly. We should leave now, before it’s too late. Don’t worry. It’s not as bad as you might think. The Tusokans will be completely destroyed by the Dragon Army, and we still can return after they’ve passed northward to Daltaria.”

Until that moment, Kithria hadn’t considered that. She was far too angry, and she admitted, fear had touched her for a moment. But Lakalith had been given his position as a Legionnaire for a reason.

“Captain Palerider, for what it’s worth, you’ll remain in command of the legionnaires despite Evildrath’s death. Lead them west to the tunnels. I’ll leave scouts behind and return to you when all of our raiders have come through these gates.”

“Yes, milady!” He conceded.

She looked up then toward the guard tower on the far side of the gate. A few of their mercenaries lingered, seemingly watching over the city, their tall helms an easy mark to spy.

“Can you see the harbor!” she shouted to them.

“Eh,” replied one warrior, peering south. “Yes. It looks like ships have come in—black sails, long galleons. Definitely Dragon Army.”

“How many?”

“Thirteen.”

“Sound the horns for retreat!” she cried in command to all those dark elven kin who could hear her. “We must depart Tusokan at once!”

The two dark elves in the guard tower seemed baffled by her commands. They scowled. “We don’t retreat unless Lord Steelbone commands it, witch! We’ve taken the city. There’s still plenty to loot from the nobles’ homes!”

Kithria grew hot with wrath, enraged by their defiance. She clenched her fist and then bent her thought on the dark elf who’d spoken to her so boldly from the tower.

“Don’t take me for some fool!” she hissed. “I wouldn’t command it if there were any who could give the command before me. Look below, you imbeciles! Lord Steelbone’s legionnaires return without him. And you would be wise to fear that fact, for he’s the only one who could save you from me!”

And with that, she gave one last squeeze of her fist, and her staff sparked with dark energy. The air about her smelled of wet autumn soil. The dark elf in the tower screamed in pain as a rift split in his chest, like those that come during quakes of the earth. He immediately fell dead. The other warrior in the tower quickly took up the horn and blasted it then, sounding retreat of all of their raiders.

With that, Lakalith led the legionnaires and assassins through the gates, out to the western edge of the Plains of Sirik, toward the River Itinerus.

* * *

Dark elves poured out of the city, draining away toward the broken gate.

At the north doorway, the citizens of Tusokan gathered to leave as well. Meineken and Ryuki had taken many of the ninja they’d collected northward with them on the rooftops, passing numerous dark elves on the road below them.

They gathered any citizens they came across until finally, they found Master Dragonfright. “Sound the evacuation call,” called Ryuki as they approached him.

Magistrate Hao Grimswallow was nowhere to be seen.

Meineken took count of the remaining Black Talon ninja. He was saddened by the widespread losses they’d taken. But the city guards’ losses had been greater. There were only a few handfuls at the northern gate.

Master Dragonfright spoke hastily. “We don’t have much time. Some of the sentries from the ports got here just before you. Goblin wolfriders have been loaded into the boats.”

Meineken nodded, nursing his shoulder. “They’ll be sent ahead to chew through any resistance. I don’t think I have to tell you, we’re far too weak to hold the city, even if it were the wolves alone.”

Hiryoto exchanged glances with Ryuki. They both seemed dismayed.

“They will move much faster than we can on the plains,” said Master Dragonfright.

“We have to at least try to escape,” said Meineken. “There’s nothing else we can do if we wish to keep our people alive, and our city standing. We have a few archers remaining among us. We can keep them with us three at the rear of the column and protect the people, if it comes to that.”

Master Purplefist put her fist in her palm. “That is our charge and our oath, and we’ll stick by it unto death.”

“Well, Master Shadowstar,” said Hiryoto. Meineken didn’t particularly like the look he gave him. “It seems your reinforcements are our last chance for survival. I certainly hope they arrive or we’ll all perish at the hands—and teeth—of the Dragon Army.”

“They’ll come,” returned Meineken. “Turim would do everything he can to keep this land safe. Don’t worry, they’ll come.”

Then the three masters bowed to each other, their heads nearly touching. In Meineken’s mind, he remembered the time they’d taken the first oath to protect the city at all costs. Still, he’d never thought their service would include defending the inhabitants against an attack by such a great and powerful army. None of them probably had.

When their eyes rose to meet, he felt a sense of honor and camaraderie stronger than he’d felt since that day long ago.

“May the Black Talon survive this day,” said Hiryoto, and he sounded remarkably sincere.

Master Purplefist nodded. “And may our city remain standing if we do.”

With those words, they marched out through the small corridor that led to the Plains of Sirik, shutting the gates behind them. They barred them with every bit of steel they could spare. Axe, sword, and spear all served one humble purpose: to delay what might be the ever-approaching destruction of the people of Tusokan.

* * *

Mere days after Gewurmarch Rottbone learned that Captain Mareshelter, the Black Division captain, had foolishly sent the scouting Wing to spy on Grendelock Keep, Admiral Crith Peelwarden began preparations to disembark. After Grand General Obsidianfist’s strike on Karagard Keep, Admiral Peelwarden had set sail with all haste.

The mists hung lightly over the bay and trailed up through the ports and over the homes of the Tusokans. By the time Admiral Peelwarden had taken a boat to shore, there was already a pair of goblin wolfriders back from their excursion into the city.

He tromped down the dock toward them, adjusting his black, winged helm. One wolf snarled at the other, but a quick kick from its goblin rider silenced it. Admiral Peelwarden lowered his brows. That was an easy way to lose a foot with these wolves. Not smart.

“Well?” he asked them impatiently.

“Dere weren’ anybody here ta’ fightz us, Admiralz,” answered one goblin. “Should be at leas’ a few. But dere ain’.”

“What?!” roared the Admiral. “What happened, Flerk?”

They had traveled long across the Gerathian Ocean and through many dangers. They’d even lost a ship during the storm that had lasted for so long. If a single piece of this plan had gone astray, he would find out who was responsible and make it his personal vendetta to remedy that.

“Dark elves!” growled Flerk with his fists clenched tightly. “What are dem’ tunnel diggurz doin’ ‘ere already!? I thought they weren’ attackin’ until we did?”

“What? Are you certain?!”

“Aye, Admiral. Dere’ waz a battle ‘ere a’ready. Broken stuff. Bodies all ovah da’ place. Menz, kithkin’zes, and—gah, wez’ gonna kill dem’ pointy-eared diggurz!” spat Flerk, which he followed with many goblin curses.

He had already been given orders to capture the dark elves after they’d helped in the battle—in payment for their failure at their assassination. But their betrayal and the actions they’d taken on their own accord had made them a bitter enemy now indeed. After this, Gewurmarch Rottbone would likely send out some hunters or dragoons to find them when the battle was all over.

It was obvious those not killed in the streets hadn’t simply vanished. But where had they gone? What hope would the entire population of the city have marching across the wilderness? “Is that really their plan?” he pondered incredulously.

Flerk spoke up again. “Cap’n Scrabitz sent ‘iz boyz out norf. He said ta’ followz ‘im. That he wuz gonna’ send a few boyz eas’ and wes’, but mos’ly norf. Da’ fightin’s fresh. Dey’ jes’ left mebbe’…” He stopped and exchanged glances with the goblin next to him.

“Eh, mebbe’ two—no, twenny sevin—eh, not too long ago. Dey’ jes’ left.”

Admiral Peelwarden shook his head, his cheeks hot. “Alright. Go tell Scrabitz he’s free to chase the Tusokans and their ninja down. Attack if he finds them. We’ll be along shortly.”

“Yessir!” said the two goblins.

Then with a pad of paws, they bolted off down the planks and disappeared into the harbor.

Admiral Peelwarden turned back to impatiently survey their progress. Ranks of Dark Knights continued to file from the boats. They looked like a swarm of black water beetliths coming across the Bay of Ixidor. But they also had plenty of goblins, ogres, and dragonites too.

It had been years since he’d seen a force gathered like this. His mind returned to the battles on Daropel. In those times, the Dragon Army still hadn’t grown so large that they’d needed to split into the three divisions. He remembered the might of all three Gewurmarchs riding upon the fell wings of their dragons. He’d been with them and it had been impressive.

In the years after, the Gewurmarchs had been careful. Senators were placed in power. Taxes were levied. They’d shifted laws overnight to their own benefit, and to the downfall of their opponents in some of the other governments. Passive-aggressive strategies. But they seemed to have worked well—especially amongst humankind.

“Unfortunately,” he thought, “we seem to have difficulty trusting. It doesn’t take much to betray one another when things go ill.”

Since then, however, he'd personally been assigned to the Black Division. They’d given him the job of assisting in the creation of a magnificent navy. Yet here he was, marching on a far-off city like some lowly foot soldier. It put a bitter taste in his mouth.

But that was only temporary. It would take some time, but soon they’d be ready to move out. With almost nothing to stand before them now, they’d march on Daltaria much sooner than expected.

* * *

“My head is throbbing,” grumbled Hiryoto as they trudged through the grasses. “I want nothing more than to lie down. Just for a little while.”

“You can’t,” said Ryuki running. “You probably have a concussion.”

It had become obvious, however, that sleep was still as far off as any star. The sun now rose into the sky, and the air warmed—though not much. They had come to the last days of fall. There seemed to be a constant chill in the air now, that couldn’t be driven off. “If these people have to stay out here long,” thought Meineken, “they’re going to have a terrible night.” Maybe that didn’t matter though. They might not last that long.

The wheat grass was almost over Meineken’s head. Far to the west, he could spy the River Itinerus, but only when they rose up on the higher parts of the plains. Even with the low din of the many folk marching though, they could faintly hear the rushing of the river.

His shoulder ached and stung. So did his thigh. None of the bruises felt that great either. But though he was probably the worst of them, the other masters had plenty of scrapes and cuts of their own. Master Purplefist had been hobbling along with a limp for hours.

“You cannot keep treating him like this, Master Dragonfright,” whispered Ryuki behind him. Meineken didn’t think he was meant to hear them.

No response.

“Admit it,” said Ryuki. “He’s an honorable and worthy leader.”

“I admit, I respect his prowess with a sword.” Hiryoto’s quiet words seemed carefully selected.

“That’s obvious, yes. But he’s done so much to help prepare the Tusokans. He’s even brought reinforcements—”

“Not yet he hasn’t,” said Hiryoto sharply.

Meineken was almost ready to turn around, to defend Turim. But he would let them see it. He didn’t need to. He had faith in Turim’s word.

“Master Dragonfright, he brought you and I reinforcements in the city. He saved our lives. You at least owe him that gratitude.”

There was another long pause without words. Meineken brushed his hand through the whispering grass. Then Hiryoto spoke. “He is honorable for that.”

Meineken accepted that as the best he would get.

The grasses abruptly split, and one of their kithkin ninja burst into the breaking trail. With a bow slung over his shoulder, he was one of the ninja that had been put at the rear of the line. “Masters, Goblins on wolves,” he said, breathing heavily. “We’ve ambushed them and driven them back with arrows twice now. Their fear sent them fleeing south again.”

Even in circumstances where goblins weren’t surprised, they were a skittish folk.

“How many have you seen?” asked Meineken.

“There were well near a thousand, though we filled them with arrows. They’re less now. It’s hard to tell. They don’t move in ranks, just a mass of evil, hairy and ravenous.”

“Get a better count then!” said Hiryoto, taking several tromping steps through the grass closer. “Though I don’t know why we bother. We can’t hold anything off with the few handfuls of folk we have. It’s madness to confront them!”

“Do you have another idea, Master Dragonfright?” asked Ryuki sharply.

“No Master,” returned Hiryoto.

“Then do not be so quick to dampen what spirits remain with our clan here!” she snapped.

Hiryoto went silent.

“Masters,” said Meineken. “Ready the other ninja. It won’t be long now.” He turned to look at the shambling column ahead. “It’s time to tell them to run ahead. They need to get to the Whitehewn Bridge as fast as they can go.”

The bridge crossed the River Itinerus into the Westersirk. Meineken had hoped they’d find the Knights of the Hawk reinforcements before they reached it, but that was their destination. He guessed the dark elves had informed the Black Division of the bridge too, and that was where they were probably heading. But once they crossed and began moving north along the western side of the Itinerus, any reinforcements from the Knights of the Hawk would be cut off from them on the east side.

“Yes, Master,” said Ryuki with a swift short bow. “I’ll get them moving. I’ll be back shortly.”

Hiryoto and Meineken returned bows of their own.

Master Purplefist began moving away shouting, “Keep going! Make for the Whitehewn Bridge, fast as you can go now!” It took a moment for them to understand, but in moments they began to run. It didn’t take much more than that to hasten them. The crowd followed the crowd. Sadly, most of the city guard went with them, though six kithkin guards stayed, their wide helms and long spears still shining in the sun.

“We’ll fight alongside the Black Talon clan,” said a grey-bearded kithkin, whose tail had grown out long in his old age, something Meineken had to look forward to one day.

“Your bravery is noted, and I thank you,” replied Meineken with a solemn bow.

Hiryoto shook his head and turned to look towards the city. “Let’s go.”

Meineken and the others moved swiftly in the deep grasses, taking pains not to disturb it in doing so. When they had hidden themselves well, they became as still as solemn mountains. The archers poised with bows at the ready. The rest drew their katana and gripped their spears. They sat in silence.

The sun had risen into a clouded sky, now just past midday. At last, they heard the wolves approach. The barred causeway had stalled them for a while, but Meineken was painfully aware of how easy it was to track down nearly a thousand Tusokans trampling through the wheat grass. “Pride of Genova,” he mused to himself.

The horde was still a great distance away, but the wolves moved with such speed that, within minutes, they were upon them. Their time had grown to its last hour. The Knights of the Hawk hadn’t arrived in time. They could put off their doom no longer.

Springing from their hiding spots, the ninja attacked with blade, star, spear, and bow. This time the wolves must’ve caught their scent because they were prepared for the attack.

The wolves tore through many good ninja with fang and claw, leaving them hewn and broken in the deep grasses. But the ninja didn’t cease their attack. Many goblins and wolves soon lay dead as well, fur and dark blood painting the grass as a portrait of gory battle that would haunt the minds of the survivors forever.

Meineken spun wildly. He leapt and drove his blade in, leapt away, spun to parry an attack, then struck again. He soon struggled with exhaustion. His wounds plagued him. He’d fought so many enemies the night before that he’d long lost count of them. Even as he looked around at the overwhelming odds that grew as each ninja fell, he thought,  “We can still win. There’s still a chance for honor. I will fight to my death.”

Hiryoto cursed loudly as he fought nearby. His anger and despair showed in his eyes. He kept cutting, kept slashing. But on the goblins and their wolves came, their chattering screams and ferocious barks heard all across the battlefield.

Even as the goblin’s captain and his wolf leapt on Hiryoto, his sword didn’t fall, but drove deep into the fell wolf’s heart. The beast landed on top of him.

Meineken couldn’t break free. Teeth snapped at his face. Green blood ran on his arms. Hiryoto was on his own.

The captain rolled from his wolf’s back, stunned.

“Captain Scrabitz!” shouted another goblin. “Are ya’ aw’right?”

“Aye! Jes’ kill yer own!” replied Scrabitz.

In moments, Scrabitz was on his feet. As he came at Hiryoto to slay him, Meineken saw his fellow master slide further beneath the dead wolf. Scrabitz, apparently undaunted, drove his blade into his own wolf and he let out a hiss of anger as he withdrew the blade to attack again.

Meineken rent an arm from the goblin attacking him and leapt over the back of his wolf, dragging his sword across its back.

But suddenly Captain Scrabitz was cut down from behind. The goblin fell aside. The red life in his eyes faded as he struck the earth. His attacker pounced on the goblin captain with prowess never before witnessed in a Tusokan city guard. And in moments, he stood victorious beside the stinking fur-covered wolf carcass that still sheltered Hiryoto.

“Heh!” Meineken chuckled. He would’ve all-out laughed if he wasn’t so busy trying to survive.

“Unghhh,” Hiryoto groaned as he realized he’d been saved by one of the six kithkin guards.

“You can come out from your hiding place now, Master Dragonfright!” shouted the kithkin guard with a smirk.

Hiryoto managed to crawl from beneath the beast and rise to his feet again.

“My thanks go with you, kithkin,” grit Hiryoto. “It seems I owe you a lifedebt. What’s your name?”

Meineken didn’t have any time to continue watching. The wolves encircled them, swirling around in a mass of matted, smelly fur.

Not a single ninja or guard amidst the fray was unharmed. Cuts and bruises painted every warrior who still stood. Some were missing limbs. Some had lost eyes. But none had ceased fighting if they lived.

And so when it seemed that the Black Talon would be extinguished—that the wolves would, at last, have the feast they’d probably been deprived of during their long voyage—a sound like thunder rolled across the evening sky.

Many on either side stopped. They listened for a brief moment to what it might be. Only then could it be discenerned. The tumultuous roar of hooves beating across the plains, a drum roll rising to a crescendo that could not be matched again in the lives of those there.

First, Meineken saw Ryuki running towards them. Then beside her, the Knights of the Hawk rolled over the golden horizon and charged headlong toward the battle. The sun shone on their horses’ gold and blue barding. It glinted off their weapons. They were tall in their saddles, and their magnificent banners flew in their speed.

Wolfriders turned tail to flee. Snarling. Biting. Whimpering. But soon the cavalry of the Knights of the Hawk rode them down with lances, leaving none to tell the tale. A company of knights three thousand strong rode the plains. They dealt death to all goblins and wolves.

Meineken saw them and knew once again, he owed his friend Turim a lifedebt. In truth, there were now none on that field who couldn’t say the same.

The only dark stain on that thought was that they weren’t free yet. The Dragon Army was marching through Tusokan, even now.