Twilight. Keldonis hated his duty during the hour of dusk. Since the raid weeks before, the lengthening shadows caused him to jump, and the Velite soldiers under his command rushed about in a frenzy, fearing yet another Varati attack. Still, weeks had passed without another stir. Perhaps it was safe.

A Velite sergeant approached him with a report. "Speak," the Empyrean snapped, impatient with the dusk approaching and always irritable. The sergeant, a man that had served with Keldonis for years, was unperturbed.

"The men we sent to scout the hills this afternoon have not yet returned, sir," the old mongrel rasped. "It is an hour past their check-in times."

"Sound the alarm!" Keldonis cried immediately. His scouts were the best he had, trained for years at stealth and punctuality. Something was wrong.

Fires flared up around the Eyrie, bringing light to the shadows and banishing the twilight for a time. Keldonis thought he noticed the flickering flame lights dancing off flashes in the hills, but when he looked again, they had vanished.

A step behind him made his spin, gladius half-drawn. He relaxed instantly, recognizing the figure. "Dea Thalia, how may I serve you?"

Thalia Jovia Tritonides was dressed simply, her chimere obviously recently donned, and her feet bare. "What caused this alarm that has stirred me from my bed, Praefect?" The Dea ran a delicately fingered hand through her hair, frowning slightly. "Has another attack come?"

Keldonis sighed. "I'm not sure, Dea. My scouts have not yet returned, and that is not like them. I, of course, fear the worst."

Thalia nodded her head. "Of course, Praefect. You were a correct choice for this position." She smiled slightly. "If more comes of the alarm than missing guards, inform me at once."

Keldonis bowed low at his waist. "As you command, Dea."

Thalia turned and strode back into the Eyrie, leaving Keldonis once more the only winged figure upon the walls. The Praefect turned his eyes beyond the walls once more, moving away from the fires to keep their glare from destroying his night vision.

This move proved wise. The flames around the Eyrie flamed up suddenly of their own accord, and lances of fire darted out to strike down the few unfortunate Velites attending them. "Extinguish the flames!" Keldonis commanded instantly. "We are under attack!"

Velites rushed instantly with buckets of water, and the flame soon died, but not before another glinting from the hills reached Keldonis's eyes. His fears were correct, for he knew that glint. It was only made by worked metal, and the only metal in those hills would be borne by Varati soldiers.

In the darkness, cries of voices could be heard. Suddenly, through the night, broke a booming voice. "Forces of the Empyre, you are given a chance to surrender. Abandon your holding and begone, and none shall come to harm."

A foolish Velite soldier rose upon the wall and let loose an arrow towards the voice. He never lived to let loose another. Illuminated by moonlight reflected from marble walls, the soldier proved an excellent target. A bolt from Varati hands fired, and tore through the mongrel soldier's chest, sending the body crashing off the wall to land in a battered heap. Keldonis only hoped the man died before he landed.

"Make ready, men!" Keldonis called to his soldiers, drawing his gladius. To the night he cried, "We shall meet you, Varati. The Empyre shall not bow beneath your foul steel!"

"So be it, Empyrean," the night responded. Then... silence.

The only noise Keldonis heard was that of his own soldiers rushing to their positions, drawing weapons and adjusting armor. The Praefect motioned to one, who drew near. "Take a message to Dea Thalia. Inform her we are under attack, then return to your post."

The Velite saluted stiffly. "Sir!" Upon quick feet, the soldier vanished inside the Eyrie.

Just as the door closed, all hell broke loose. Fire leapt up from the valley to strike at the gates of the Eyrie, though they died quickly, without taking root in the wooden fixtures. Cries from a thousand throats tore up from the valley, and in the moonlight Keldonis could see his foes. Varati all, clad in burnished silver with surcoats of blue, rushing to the walls. "Arrows, cauldrons, at ready! Prepare to repel a siege!"

Velites rose upon the walls and let down a rain of arrows upon the Varati forces. But few arrows found fleshy purchase, for a cry from below brought upraised shields in the fore of the Varati line, and arrows that passed this obstacle met burnished chain links or a rare true blow. Keldonis could see a few Varati soldiers fall, but the force came on.

Another rain of arrows was released, and another, with the same results. The Varati had reached the walls by now, and shield-raised soldiers stood about the gates, making a tunnel of living soldiers for an assault upon the gate itself.

Brandishing his gladius, Keldonis ordered half his force to hold the gate. The other half he set to launching arrows at the shield-tunnel, attempting to collapse it before any trick the Varati could muster could be brought.

Keldonis never counted upon plated armor. The Varati that held the ceiling of shields left themselves mostly bared, but they were clad not in typical Varati chain links, but links sewn about plates of sturdy metal, which repelled the Velites' arrows like a cloak does rain. With a muttered curse upon all Varati, Keldonis called off the arrow attacks, and ordered the oil brought to use.

The Varati were not idle during this. The wooden gates already burned, though the fire controlled in such a way that the flames did not even grow enough to warm the Velites waiting upon the other side. Just as boiling cauldrons were positioned above the tunnel of shields, the gates buckled inward and then exploded with a large crash, flames and splinters raining down on the few Velites in its path.

Keldonis motioned for the oil to be dropped even as he leapt from the wall. His wings snapped full, slowing his descent, and the Praefect circled above the inner court while his soldiers prepared to fight back the Varati.

A cry of, "For the Empyre!" rose from the Velites' lips as the first Varati soldiers came through the destroyed gateway, and soon the cries of battle were drowned by the crash of blades and screams of injured men. Keldonis had never faced a Varati himself, and as he landed behind his lines he realized their battle prowess was not unjustified. For every Varati that fell, three Velites went with him.

Screams from beyond the wall heralded the employment of the oil cauldrons, and Keldonis grinned in approval. The Varati might be strong, but they were not invincible. The Praefect moved towards the conflict.

Isham Messala struck his blade through the chest of another mongrel soldier, silently cursing the loss once more. Unlike his son, Isham wished for more slaves, and it seemed a waste to slay so many in taking these lands. But a Nayaka does not question his Warlord, even when the Warlord is his own son. So Isham fought on.

Wings caught the Nayaka's eyes, and Isham grinned mightily. It seemed there was an Empyrean in the battle, and Isham was determined to slay him. Pushing aside another mongrel soldier, the tall Nayaka moved through the battle towards the winged form.

He had been displeased when the scouts reported winged forms darting from the holding, thinking that no Empyreans would die this night. Perhaps one would die, after all. A sharp pressure in his side distracted Isham from the winged figure, and he thrust out with his left fist to grab at his assailant. An elderly mongrel, it lacked the strength to counter that of the Varati, and was easily caught, and lifted. Isham grinned as the mongrel cut downwards with its blade at his head, but to no avail; Isham easily parried. This one would never make a good slave, for it had too much fighting spirit. He delighted in the feel of his blade thrusting through the mongrel's gut.

Tossing the body aside, Isham once more forced his way through the press of warriors. Soon the winged figure was in his sights, and Isham saw a handful of Varati soldiers fallen around the Empyrean. Good, perhaps this would even push his skill. "Empyrean!" Isham cried to the figure, who already looked right at him. "Meet me! Feel the steel of Messala!"

Keldonis watched as the large Varati casually impaled his sergeant, tossing aside the body like a sack of grain. Keldonis had just felled another Varati, and knew this one was next. He was surprised, however, when the Varati called a challenge. Silently, Keldonis moved to accept.

The Varati's skill was evident immediately. Keldonis was hard-pressed to avoid the first strike, and the next which he parried nearly drove the gladius from his hand. Keldonis soon moved on the defensive, holding off the Varati's attacks while searched the mailed form for a weakness, some place to strike.

The Varati continued to press the attack, and Keldonis was forced to risk his wings in an upward leap to the head of the staircase leading to the walls. The Varati simply grinned at Keldonis as he moved up the stairs slowly, but it gave Keldonis a chance to breathe and assess the battle.

It went poorly. Most of his Velite forces had fallen already to the Varati, and the few that remained had been crowded into a defensive circle in the middle of the dark-skinned invaders. A quick glance skywards lent Keldonis great relief, for he saw many winged forms in the air, fleeing towards the Empyre. At least the household was safe.

A flash of white caught his eye, and Keldonis risked a glance towards it. Lying upon the roof of a building was a crumpled winged figure, the white feathers of her right wing stained red. A curse escaped his lips, for he knew it was Dea Thalia. Before he could take to the sky to aid her, however, the Varati was upon him again.

The distraction of the Dea nearly cost his life, for the Varati warrior came upon him just as he had turned to take flight. The Varati's blade brushed the feathers of his wing, and Keldonis spun quickly to avoid damage. With fire in his eyes, Keldonis raised his gladius and pressed the attack. "Monster!" he cried, lunging with the blade. "You will die!"

The Varati simply laughed, leaping back from Keldonis's blade. The Varati's sword was longer, thicker, and better forged than Keldonis's, and the Varati used it to his advantage. A quick slash sent Keldonis leaping back once again, and nearly sent him toppling from the wall. It took wing flaps to restore his balance, and the Varati was upon him once again, blade flashing.

Keldonis continued to be pressed back by the fierce Varati's attacks, driven closer and closer to the wall's corner edge, and the wilderness below it. Keldonis fought back with all he had, but the Varati was stronger, and more skilled.

Cold stone pressed against Keldonis's calves, and he knew he could retreat no more. He lunged quickly as the Varati closed with him, stopping the large figure's advance for a moment. Keldonis spared a glance towards the fallen form of Dea Thalia, but knew there was no way he could help. A glance beyond the walls told him what he must do. The Empyre must be warned!

Keldonis leapt up upon the crenellations of the wall, and thrust once more at the Varati's face. With a contemptuous slap of his blade, the Varati stopped the blow, and thrust out at Keldonis's stomach. Keldonis leapt back, wings extending to thrust him skywards instead of dropping him down to the trees below.

But he was not far enough, and the Varati was quick. The Varati's free hand darted to his belt, and whisked a metal object towards Keldonis even as he strove to gain height. Keldonis could feel the steel blade tearing through his wing, and his equilibrium was lost. Spinning and feebly trying to regain flight once more, Keldonis went crashing towards the trees.

The last sight Keldonis remembered before the trees drove him to senselessness was the fires of the Varati, spreading northwards from the valley in a virtual sea.

Isham watched the Empyrean fall, crashing amongst the branches of the trees, cracking them and tumbling beneath their boughs, vanishing from sight. He only grinned and sheathed his blade. Turning now to look at what had distracted the winged warrior, his mirth only grew. "A prisoner. This has been a good day." Turning towards the steps, Isham watched as the last mongrel fell beneath a Varati blade.

Sunlight woke Keldonis, though he did not rise. There was not a place on his body where he did not ache, and the fierce needles in his wing told him it was broken. But the Empyre came first. He struggled to his feet, searching the ground for his weapon. He found it, and beside it the Varati dagger. Taking both weapons and putting them in his belt, the Praefect of Velite Ceterva XXI limped towards the south, and the Empyre.

The caves of the Varati had let loose their hordes, and the Empyre must be warned. It was their only hope now.

FIN  

[ Home | News | Staff | Players | Links | Gallery | Logs | Library | Updates | Mail ]
[ Connect to the Game ]