Darkness Descending-On Dragons Wings 5

Kieran and her friends discover a dark secret

The sky to the East was the color of flame as the sun began its ascent from behind the mountains. The trees in the valley below matched the sky’s hue with their autumnal foliage, and an unseasonably warm breeze was blowing from the south. Overall, it looked like the coming day would be very pleasant.

A lovely day to die alone, Kieran Nightshade thought.

Not that she wanted to die alone this morning, or at all, for that matter, but sitting where she was with a dozen sweaty, stinking, drunken Vawwn minions armed to the teeth surrounding the nearby fire, she didn’t seem to have many other options available to her.

There was hope, though. The Vawwn weren’t very smart. They had sat Kieran down, hands bound behind her, against a large, very sharp-edged boulder. She had gotten to work cutting away her ropes almost immediately, pacing herself so as not to attract attention. She would be free any moment. If only she knew where to go after that.

The Vawwn raiding party that had captured her dragged her to this clearing in the wildest part of the Barrows Wood, the foliage so thick that stockade walls would have been easier to cut through. Where trees, roots, and vines didn’t block escape, there was the cliff face overlooking the valley several hundred feet below. The path they had come in on was the only way in or out.

Her weapons and pack lay on the ground near the fire a dozen feet away. So close, and yet they might as well be leagues away. Her long rifle was useless even if she got free and could get to them. The shattered stock and barrel bent at an angle assured the weapon would never fire again. And her blunderbuss…

At that moment, one of the orcs in the party wandered –make that staggered– over. Even from a distance, Kieran could smell the fermented mushroom wine the Vawwn were consuming by the flagon-full oozing from its pores. The orc regarded her with bleary disdain, reaching down to pick up the blunderbuss, releasing a loud fart as it did so. Startled by its own emission, the orc spun, looking for the beast that had made the offensive sound. Finding nothing, it turned its attention to the large-bore firearm in its grubby hands. It sniffed the weapon, turning it around and around until the muzzle was pointed at its face.

Kieran held her breath, watching as the orc sniffed at the open bore, one hand slipping down the barrel…to the trigger.

A shriek forestalled the orc’s self-execution. An equally inebriated goblin wandered over, gesturing wildly, seemingly berating its larger companion. This one stank even worse than the orc and was naked except for being covered by…was that seaweed? It swiped at the blunderbuss, the orc pulling away just in time. The goblin continued to dance around, making wild grabs for the weapon before finally getting hold of the end of the barrel and trying to pull it away. The orc pulled back, bringing more screeching. The goblin grabbed on with both hands and gave a mighty yank, its head disappearing in a cloud of red mist as the blunderbuss went off in its face.

The blast brought the other Vawwn running. The orc looked from the weapon’s barrel to his now headless companion crumpled on the ground and threw back its head in a gout of laughter. As the others approached, he relayed the events of the last moments to them, complete with mimicking the explosion of the goblin’s head and shouting, “Boom!” The others burst out with laughter of their own and moved back to the fire

Yeah, they’re idiots, Kieran mused. But even idiots are dangerous when they outnumber you ten to one.

She was finally through her ropes, sitting for a moment, trying to massage her wrists without the motion attracting the attention of the goof troop and wondering what the hell her next move would be.

In the distance, a bird was singing. In the back of her mind, Kieran subconsciously identified it as a thrush. As the song continued, Kieran became more aware of just how horribly out of tune the bird was. Who taught that bird how to whistle?

And then it hit her. I taught that bird!

She looked around, searching for the source of the butchered birdsong. It was close enough to let her know it should be here in the clearing, but there was no way the whistler could be so close without the Vawwn seeing him.

Her eyes strayed to the edge of the cliff. At the edge, two craggy lumps appeared silhouetted by the rising sun that Kieran swore were not there earlier. As she watched, a pair of red, slit-pupil eyes appeared in the middle of those lumps, scanning the area until they came to rest on her. The left eye winked, and then they dropped out of sight as quickly as they had appeared.

It appears my rescue is at hand—time for some thrilling heroics.

She steeled herself, praying her legs wouldn’t fail after being seated so long. Taking a deep breath, she started to whistle back.

The sound caught the Vawwn’s attention. As one, their heads turned in her direction. The lead orc approached, shouting unintelligibly and gesturing with the blunderbuss that suggested he would do the same to her as he did to the goblin. Stupid, smelly bastard doesn’t know it can only fire one shot at a time. That’s good.

The orc towered over Kieran, beady eyes glaring balefully as he berated her. Keeping her arms behind her, she felt around until she found a sizable rock. Gripping it in one hand, Kieran steeled herself.

The orc bent down, bringing his face within inches of hers, his putrid breath filling her nostrils as he continued shouting. Before she could vomit in his face from the smell, Kieran brought the rock up hard, smashing it against the side of its head. The orc staggered, dropping the blunderbuss as it brought its hands up to its head.

Kieran got to her feet, snatching her weapon and bolting across the clearing. She made a beeline for the fire, grabbing her pack before the Vawwn realized what was happening. A second orc made a swipe for her, missing by inches as she dodged and sprinted for the ledge.

She heard the thunder of footsteps behind her, closing. Then she was at the edge of the precipice and launched herself into the void…

And cursed out loud when she realized how quickly the ground was coming up at her. Seventeen years of life flashed before her eyes. It was a very short show.

A dark form beneath appeared her just before she impaled herself on the trees below. Kieran stretched out her arms, locking them around the neck of the dragon as she landed on its back, hands gripping scales as the beast shot suddenly skyward.

“Your timing leaves something to be desired,” she shouted over the rushing wind.

The dragon cocked his head slightly in her direction. “Can’t discuss. Got to deal with ugly things.”

They raced up the side of the cliff, shooting past the ledge Kieran had just leaped from. She saw a flash of the Vawwn standing at the edge, jaws agape at the sudden appearance of her savior. She gripped tighter as the dragon looped and inverted, belching a gout of flame at Kieran’s former captors as he dove. The fireball burst amidst the group of Vawwn. Most disappeared in the initial flash. Some were thrown flaming over the side of the cliff. One or two were seen running from the conflagration, falling face-first to the dirt as they were completely immolated.

Mohng leveled off above the treetops, banking back toward the East, the Vawwn already forgotten. He looked back at his passenger once more. “You’re welcome.”

“You could have incinerated those mooks before I hurled myself off a cliff,” Kieran said.

“You could have been one of those mooks that got incinerated,” the dragon replied. “My fireballs don’t exactly discriminate.”

“You’re losing your edge,” she countered. “There was a time when you could have bulls-eyed each and every one of those goons.”

Mohng chose not to reply. Kieran could be insufferable at times like this. It was best to let the topic die quietly.

For her part, Kieran took the dragon’s silence as a win. She switched topics. “So what’s the situation?”

“Darkmoon and Akkabar got tired of waiting, so they sent me to find you. They said if we weren’t back by sunrise, they would lead the raid on the Vawwn convoy on their own.”

“Those idiots,” she shouted over the rushing wind. “Do they seriously think they can take on a troop of armed Vawwn without having a dragon at their backs?”

“To his credit, Akkabar was on the fence, but Darkmoon was insistent that he had his Anskarra sword, and that was all they needed.”

“That stupid elf and his stupid damn sword,” Kieran said. “Better fly fast, my friend. They really are going to need all the help they can get.”

***

"Recognize this? My father slew legions of you scum with it," Darkmoon Eskerian hefted his sword high as he faced the column of assorted Vawwn trash that had halted their advance at his sudden appearance in the road before them. "Behold, Anskarra. Known to you losers as the Devourer."

The trio of Orcs heading up the column looked from Darkmoon to the sword and back to him again. The one in the lead sneered and took a menacing step forward.

Some of the cockiness left Darkmoon’s voice as he said, “This is the part where you’re supposed to flee in terror.”

The Orc continued to advance.

“Did you not hear me,” Darkmoon said. “Anskarra? Devourer? The name alone is supposed to send your running in terror.”

The Vawwn looked less than impressed. The orc in the lead curled its lips, raising its wicked, curved-blade sword. Darkmoon prepared for the strike.

A scream from behind, a flash of steel, and two Orc heads flew from their necks. The last standing turned in the direction and was rewarded with an axe blade to the chest.

The axe’s owner, a great bear of a man dressed in animal furs, wrenched the weapon free as the orc dropped to the ground. He turned to face Darkmoon, pinning his companion with an icy glare that could have frozen water. “Do we really have time for this? Introducing your sword to every Vawwn you encounter?”

Darkmoon started to voice a retort, but the barbarian had already moved on, axe swinging toward a nearby goblin. “Meet my axe! His name’s Bob!” A shriek. A goblin arm went flying. Akkabar laughed with unbridled glee and pressed further into the oncoming horde.

A multitude of cries erupted all around as the others in their band plunged out of the woods, falling upon the Vawwn with a swiftness that took them by surprise. At least a dozen fell before the wretched horde could recover.

But recover they did. Once the initial shock wore off, the orc, goblins, and assorted other beings that made up the Vawwn laid into their attackers with ferocity. What they lacked in intelligence, the Vawwn made up for in savagery and numbers. Very quickly, the tide of battle began to turn.

Darkmoon waded into the enemy, his sword cutting into the throng as he tried to reach the column's rear where the wagons sat. Somewhere ahead, in the thick of the melee, he could still hear Akkabar. “Say hello to my little friend,” the barbarian continued mocking as he fought.

A chorus of deep roars sounded from out of sight behind a bend in the narrow valley where the caravan trailed, silencing the din of battle. A moment later a pair of hulking mountain trolls came into view, each bearing a club fashioned from the trunk of an oak tree. Their footfalls shook the ground as they began to charge.

The others in Darkmoon’s group began to break and run, some falling victim to those oaken clubs as the trolls approached. Akkabar ducked under one swing, burying his axe blade deep into the big toe of the first troll. The beast shrieked, swinging backhanded with its club to dislodge the barbarian’s weapon, but it swung too high, striking its companion instead.

The second troll responded by bringing its weapon down on its offender's head. The two dropped their clubs entirely and lunged at each other, pounding away with their massive, meaty fists. Akkabar had enough time to recover his axe and scramble out of the way before the two behemoths crashed to the ground, rolling around as they battered away at each other.

“This is beginning to be misguided,” the barbarian shouted as he ran back to Darkmoon’s side, watching as several Vawwn tried to break up the fight. At least two found themselves pounded into the dirt by flying troll fists.

Darkmoon looked around, surveying the chaos. Only a scattering of their people were still on their feet and fighting. Too many lay on the ground, either wounded, dead, or dying, and he was sure that a good number had vanished into the woods, probably never to be seen again. Darkmoon couldn’t blame them too much. Most were hastily trained farmers and villagers, not skilled warriors. Their intentions in joining the fight against the Vawwn may have been noble, but when faced with an enemy so merciless in battle, their resolve had evaporated like rain under a desert sun.

“We need to regroup and reassess our strategy,” he admitted.

“You don’t say,” Akkabar shot back.

Another roar echoed through the valley, loud and fierce enough to give the two battling trolls pause in their scrabbling. They struggled to their feet as another of their kind rounded the turn in the road. This one was larger by half, its already grotesque facial features distorted by multiple scars crisscrossing the right side of its skull, obscuring its eye. Fresh blood ran down its chin and the curve of its neck. Some poor soul’s severed arm hung from the side of its mouth, wedged between two of its teeth. It roared again and came on, plowing over one of its smaller brethren.

Darkmoon’s jaw dropped. “Ohh, they’re growing them bigger now,” he stammered, any last remnants of bravado leaving his voice.

Akkabar hefted his axe. “We could really use a dragon right about now!” With a shout, he rushed forward to meet this new threat.

Darkmoon’s hand shot out, grabbing his friend by the back of his cloak as a shadow passed overhead. Akkabar turned, eyes large with anger at being restrained. Darkmoon released him, holding up his hand. “Your wish is about to be granted.”

Before Akkabar could respond, the road between them and the uber-troll erupted in flame. The beast stumbled backward, tripping over the troll it had previously plowed down. A second burst of flame engulfed all three creatures.

The Vawwn, seeing their brutes immolated before their eyes, now began to flee. A few, armed with longbows, launched arrows at the new threat, only to see them bounce harmlessly off the armor-like scales. They met the same fate as the trolls as targeted fireballs blasted them to pieces. Cheers erupted from Darkmoon’s remaining troops as Mohng made a tight loop and flew back along the valley, scanning for any more resistance. Finding none, the dragon hovered in place momentarily before lighting gently to the ground.

Kieran was off the dragon’s back instantly, stomping towards Darkmoon with fury in her eyes. “Wait for the dragon! Isn’t that what we always say? Wait for the dragon? What part of wait do you not understand?”

“We did wait,” Darkmoon said. “But when the dragon decided to go off in search of you, we knew we couldn’t wait any longer. If this convoy had made it out of the valley, we would have lost any opportunity to secure those wagons and find out why the Vawwn put so much importance on them.”


Wielding her blunderbuss, Kieran still looked like she was ready to swing it like a club. She looked from Darkmoon to the barbarian, who quickly put his hands up in defense. “I thought we should wait,” Akkabar pointed to the elf. “He wanted to go without you two.”

By her side, Mohng chuckled softly as the elf ran several shades of red and glared at his companion. “You traitorous, half-witted, stinking⋯”

“Enough,” Kieran shouted, stalking past the two of them. “I had a crappy night, my morning was almost as bad, and it doesn’t look like my afternoon is going to be any better. Let’s just find out what was so important to the Vawwn that they needed this much manpower to guard it.”

They made their way past the still flaming, stinking remains of the trolls, stopping at the first of the enclosed and armored wagons that now sat abandoned in the middle of the ruined convoy. She silently berated herself for her comments to Mohng about the accuracy of his fireball abilities. He had caused maximum damage to the Vawwn without so much as singeing the two wagons in question.

They approached the door on the rear of the first wagon, which was secured with a heavy chain and lock. “What in the Gods of Thail are they keeping in there?” Akkabar asked.

“Well, let’s find out,” Kieran said, gesturing for him to use his axe on the chain.

They all braced for an attack should the wagon's contents take unkindly to being released. Akkabar hefted the axe and brought it down on the lock with a shout. Cleaved neatly in half, the chain fell away. The barbarian grasped the door handle, getting confirming nods from the others, and yanked the door open.

“By the Gods⋯”

They all stared in stunned silence. From inside, frightened eyes stared back.

Children. Nearly two dozen children were crammed into a cart that could hold less than half that many. Dirty and emaciated but alive, their ages ranged from toddlers to young teens. Too frightened to make a noise, they stared back at their liberators in stony silence.

One of Darkmoon’s men, a young farmer Kieran knew as Derryl, came running up from behind the second wagon in line. He peered inside, then turned to them. “It’s the same thing in that one,” he pointed. “Kids. Over a dozen of them.”

They all looked at one another. “Why?” Akkabar finally asked, voicing the unspoken question. “Why would they be taking young children?”

“I can think of any number of reasons,” Darkmoon said. “None of them good.”

Forcing a smile, Kieran gestured to the nearest child, a girl about ten years old. She hesitated, slowly allowing Kieran to help her out of the wagon. Others followed, but they stopped when they saw Mohng. Some tried to climb back into the cart.
“It’s alright,” Kieran said as gently as she could. “He’s a friend.”

The children appeared unconvinced. “It’s okay,” the dragon replied. “Considering what they must have been through, it’s understandable. I will take this opportunity to patrol the area and make sure there are no more Vawwn surprises awaiting us.”

He shared a glance with Kieran, the look on his face showing mild hurt and understanding all at once. He backed up a few steps, flapped his wings, and took to the sky again.

“Akkabar, you and the others see if you can find these children some food, then let’s get them ready to move out of here as soon as possible,” Darkmoon said. The barbarian silently nodded and then, with Derryl’s help, led the children away to join those from the other cart.

Kieran started to walk back to the head of the column, and Darkmoon had to jog to keep up with her. He had seen her like this before after they had surveyed the ruins of a town the Vawwn had raided a few weeks earlier, leaving no survivors, many of them children.

“It makes no sense,” she said. He knew her to be talking more to herself than to him, so he followed along in silence. “They raid one place and kill every living thing, then they raid another and steal all the children. What’s their plan? Do they even have a plan?”

She stopped, turning to look at him. Her eyes were moist with held-back tears. It was a rare show of emotion for her, and it disturbed Darkmoon. “Why?” she asked.

Darkmoon had no answer for his friend.

Together, they walked in silence down the road.