Touch of Fate 242 Undercurrents

A blast of Healing Magic was all it took to revive Sera. Evidently, the pressure caused by his spell was powerful enough to knock her unconscious. While Mike was relieved that she was alright, he had to listen to her complaints about his lack of mindfulness. Thankfully, the situation prevented her from giving him anything more than a cursory lecture. It wasn't long before they had moved on to a more important topic.

"Seriously, how in the hells did you do that?" She asked, once she'd spoken her piece. Her gaze was now fixed on the swirling wall of clouds that hung in a circle around the camp, creating a bizarre patch of calm sky where stars could be seen.

"It was Audra that taught me the runes, strangely enough." He replied while eyeing the little dragon in his hands. She was currently fast asleep, and none of his gentle shaking proved capable of waking her. "At least, I think it was her."

Sera gave him a concerned look. "We are still talking about the same dragon, right? Not two days ago, you had to stop her from trying to eat a candle, and now you're saying she somehow had knowledge of a powerful arcane ritual capable of altering the weather?"

"I know it doesn't sound all that believable, but that's what happened."

She sighed, "I suppose we don't really know enough about dragons. For all we know, this kind of thing could be completely normal. Alright, until we figure out what's going on with her, I'm just going to chalk it up to the usual crazy stuff that follows you around."

"Hey! I'm not....that bad." He protested, before trailing off into a mutter.

"Right...Anyway, you ready to head back down? I'm sure the rest of the coalition leaders will be looking for you by now."

"I suppose I have to, don't I?"

She gave him a mildly sympathetic smile, "Come on. The sooner you get it done with the better. Besides, we don't know how long that storm is going to hold them up. We'll need to start planning for the next step."

He nodded while putting Audra back in her favorite pocket. They descended the rough-hewn staircase leading back into the the keep, then exited and started walking towards a crowd that had formed at the center of the encampment. It seemed that there was an argument going on.

"Which is why we need to fall back now, while they are still reeling from this blow! Who knows how much longer we will have to make a clean escape." A bearded man dressed in an expensive looking suit of plate mail was shouting.

A voice he recognized as belonging to Morris answered him. "As I have been telling you, Baron, we cannot retreat any further. This section of road is all that stands between the Lacotians and the rest of Almir. Should we abandon it for the safety of Almrin's walls, then nothing would prevent them from simply marching into the heartland of our territory. I think we both know how that would turn out."

The Baron blanched, but kept going, "You saw what the enemy was capable of! You know what sort of numbers they are bringing. Do you really think we will be anything more than a minor inconvenience to them? Whats to stop the undead bastards from simply surrounding us with a portion of their troops and marching on past us?"

"They would be fools to do so." Emmanuel broke in, looking a little exhausted. "We have enough combat power concentrated here to seriously threaten their war aims. Unless they leave the majority of their army here, we could easy break through the siege lines and go on the offensive."

"Go on the offensive? Are you crazy? How can you possible think it is a good idea to attack an army like that? These aren't living troops we are talking about. No matter how many of them you destroy, the rest will just keep coming. There is no breaking an army like that." Another noble looking man added. He seemed to be on the side of the cowardly Baron.

"Its true that the undead are a difficult enemy, but they have their weaknesses. Weaknesses that we will exploit." Morris countered.

Mike could tell that his words were largely falling on deaf ears. It was clear that the dissenters had been shaken by the events of the day, and were set on saving their own skins in a manner that left their reputations intact. Continuing this argument would do little to change that.

"He's right. We have everything we need to deliver a devastating blow against the Lacotians and put an end to this war." He announced while pushing his way into the circle.

The soldiers around him began to whisper, and he caught snatches of statements that were filled with awe, and a little fear. It seemed that his storm summoning had left an even greater impression than the rest of his actions up to this point. Not that he could really blame them. This was probably the most dramatic thing he'd done in quite some time.

"Mi..Sir Dragonknight. Thank you for your timely intervention with the undead bird swarm. If not for your assistance, we would not have survived." Morris greeted him carefully.

[I don't think there is much point in trying to hide my identity anymore.]

"My pleasure. I believe we only have a short period of time before the enemy makes another move. We should work on our own battle plans now, while we still can. What do you have so far?"

Morris moved to speak, but the cowardly Baron interrupted him. "We haven't decided on whether or not there will be a battle. It was a matter we were discussing before you arrived."

He felt, rather than saw, Sera bristle at the man's dismissive tone, and raised a hand to prevent her from saying anything. "The battle will occur regardless of your wishes. The only thing you can control at this juncture is how many civilians will die before you actually fight to defend your country. I, for one, want to minimize that number as much as possible, but I guess you want to do things differently? Perhaps the people of your domain are more willing to give up their lives, so that you might extend yours for a few weeks."

The Baron turned red, "How dare you? Do you know who I am?"

"No, I don't, and I don't see any reason to learn now." He turned towards Morris, "Do you honestly need this fool and his followers?"

His friend nodded. "Ideally, we need every available soldier simply to increase the odds of our victory. However, if the Baron believes his troops are better used elsewhere, then I believe we can adjust to their absence."

The cowardly noble had gone from red to purple by this point. His mouth flapped open and closed a few times, but he evidently couldn't think of a proper response. Finally, his jaw snapped shut with an audible click. Spinning in place, he marched away in a huff, bringing with him a handful of like-minded nobles.

Mike watched them go, before leaning over towards Morris. "I hope I didn't cause you any problems."

"Don't worry. Baron Hargrave is a fool, but he cares about his image as a military man. He won't abandon the army for fear of being labeled coward. That said, we'd better not plan on relying on any of his troops in the coming fight." Morris whispered back, before turning to address the assembled crowd. "I suggest we continue this conversation in the command tent. Its smaller than I'd like, but we can accommodate most of the senior leadership. As for the rest of you, please return to your duties. You will be informed of what we decide in due course."

His suggestion was met with general approval, and the collective leaders began walking to the nondescript tent. Mike took a moment to whisper to his friend. "You know, I made a floor in the keep for just this kind of thing."

"I'm aware, but think of it this way. If you were the enemy, where would you look for our leadership? A fully formed keep, or a dingy tent?"

Mike laughed. "Alright, fair point."

"Not to mention the fact that you didn't put any windows in." Sera muttered from his right.

He looked over at the plain brown structure, and realized that he'd completely missed that fact. "Ah, whoops. I knew I was forgetting something."

---------------------------------------------------

Far to the northeast of the central continent sat a volcanic island whose constant state of activity had given it the name Stonebirth. It had been erupted for so long and with such intensity in the centuries since its appearance, that only the strongest and best equipped adventurers were able to scout its molten shores. Even then, they could rarely penetrate deep enough to make the investigation worthwhile. As such, there were few beings on Ea that knew of the island's most powerful inhabitant, an ancient and reclusive Flame Dragon by the name of Murthinax.

This mighty creature had the habit of spending his days soaking in the magma of Stonebirth's caldera, enjoying the warmth in the same way an elderly human might when sitting outside on a sunny day. It was during one of his lengthy soaks that the messenger of the goddess Teun arrived, and spontaneously burst into flame.

"Hm, I seem to be on fire." The plant creature commented curiously as its limbs began to blacken and disintegrate in the intensity of the heat coming off the molten rock that surrounded it.

Murthinax opened one glowing, crimson eye, and issued something that would have been considered a sigh in another creature. As it was, this slight exhalation unleashed a small torrent of magma which threatened to engulf the unfortunate Gartun. Only a quick application of draconic magic spared it.

With a few words in the ancient language of the dragons, he lowered the temperature around the plant creature to the point that it was no longer in danger of combusting, and then fixed his gaze on the blackened, but still living, messenger and rumbled his now standard greeting. "I don't care what you want. Leave now before I decide to incinerate you."

If the Gartun was aware of its peril, it didn't demonstrate it. Instead, it made every attempt at delivery a perfunctory bow, only to fail when one its vine-like legs snapped off, causing it to tumble onto the ground in a heap. It began speaking anyway, as if the minor distraction of losing a limb was easily ignored. "I carry a message from the Mistress of the Earthen Realm. The Lady Teun commands you to go forth and investigate an incident."

The dragon growled, "As I said, I don't care. She may be a goddess, but she does not give me orders."
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"Ah, the lady said you might reply as such. In this case, I was supposed to relate that if you don't follow her wishes she would, and I quote, 'sink that eyesore of island into the ocean.'"

Murthinax considered the Gartun with mild annoyance. He knew the goddess was petty enough to reconfigure the landscape to get her way, even if it meant expending a portion of her accumulated power to do so. That was just the kind of irrational being she was.

[It would be troublesome to have to find a new home again. After all, there aren't many places in this world that are suitable for my charge.]

Resolving himself to dealing with the annoyance, he decided to avoid making any decisions until he got the full story. "What is this incident she wants investigated?"

"I am unfamiliar with the specifics, but supposedly a human mage managed to summon a supremely powerful storm in the vicinity of the central continent. My lady believes that this mage might very well be the person that the creator gods have been looking for."

The dragon snorted, "Hmph, I should have known it was just a matter of her wanting me to do her dirty work. Very well, tell me where this human is, and what he looks like."

"The event took place to the northeast of the city of Almirn. If you leave now, you can use the remnants of the storm to guide your path. As for the human's appearance, I'm afraid we don't have any information. The mage apparently has some means of hiding from divine sight, so we have only been able to locate signs of his or her passage after the fact."

"How useless." Murthinax growled, already frustrated by the task.

The Gartun tilted the mass of vines that served as its head, "Perhaps you can consult with your kinsman in the area. He may have some idea of where to find the mage in question.

"My kinsman?" The dragon asked, feeling his heartbeat quickening for the first time in years. How long had it been since he'd seen one of his own kind?

"Indeed. There have been several sightings of a Flame Dragon around Almir over the last few weeks."

Murthinax rose to his feet, causing a minor tidal wave of magma, which parted around the Gartun thanks to the dragon's spell.

"Excellent!" He roared as his wings beat the air, lifting his massive bulk in the process. "Tell your goddess that I accept her mission, but I will expect an appropriate reward for my efforts."

He vanished through the opening in the caldera before the Gartun had a chance to say anything else.

"Perhaps I should have mentioned the Dragonknight that was seen in the Flame Dragon's company. Oh well, I suppose he will figure it out." The plant creature murmured to itself as it began the complex process of returning to its goddess's realm.

Chapter end