The Sieze (standard:fantasy, 10792 words)
Author: A. Santana	Added: Oct 28 2005	Views/Reads: 3413/2391	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Goblins, Orcs, and Ogres, fighting with magical personnel.

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

They hauled their baggage outside and loaded as much as they could on
their horses and put the rest on the wagons that would travel with 
them.  Arzon was packing light and had everything with him on his 
horse.  He noticed Weston shoving a big chest on the back of one of the 
wagons. 

Arzon reined his horse in next to Olga.  He didn't know her.  He had
only met her while playing mercenary for the Sheriff of Milhap.  He had 
been a Fledgling magic user in the duke's city of Letit.  Olga was a 
student in the King's city of Persis.  He liked her, but she also 
seemed cavalier about her magic. 

They formed a type of processional and rode out of the city.  Arzon and
Olga rode behind the long line of swordsmen and archers.  The priest, 
Weston, and the female disciple rode behind them, and the wagons were 
last.  The rearguard would ride a hundred yards or so behind them.  
They rode all day with a couple of short breaks to eat a quick lunch 
and a brief dinner.  They reached the hills just at the sun was 
spreading a reddish haze over the sky. 

They made camp at the base of the first hills.  They were now less than
five miles from the northern caves.  They camped in a circle with the 
wagons in the middle and five campfires in a circle around the camp.  
Men sat around the fires and ate and drank and tallied until late in 
the night. 

Alister sent the child of darkness out late at night to scout out the
caves.  He didn't return until after daybreak.  He made his report to 
the Sheriff. 

Arzon slept uneventfully.  The splitting pains did not return.  He said
a few words to Olga and packed up his bedroll.  He took an hour to 
meditate on the spells he had prepared for the fight.  They all ate 
breakfast and headed out for the caves.  They ignored the four caves 
they had cleared out previously and headed for the next cave.  There 
was two goblins posted outside of the cave.  They saw the troop coming 
from afar and ran into the cave.  As they neared the cave they could 
hear the sound of a gong going off in the cave.  As the first soldiers 
headed into the cave, the goblin with the gong abandoned his instrument 
and ran away down the cave. 

As Arzon entered the cave he was overwhelmed by the smell.  It was a
combination of dead fish, rotten eggs, and putre-fying meat. The 
soldiers' torches lit the way in front of them.  He couldn't see much 
through the heads in front of them. They would stop periodically as 
mercenaries would duck into side corridors to check for goblins or 
orcs.  They had found nothing so far.  All Arzon could hear was the 
stomping of boots and the creaks and jingles of the armor worn by the 
mer-cenaries. 

After a while the tunnel opened up to a hall with many doorways opening
onto it.  Alister called a halt and grouped the soldiers to better 
handle enemies coming down the hall.  Suddenly the sound of drums could 
be heard coming through all the doorways.  A flurry of arrow came 
flying out of all the doorways.  Most of the arrows bounced harmlessly 
off the walls or the floor, but six of the mercenaries fell not to get 
up again.  The drums stopped and the sound of running feet echoed 
loudly everywhere.  Goblins came streaming out of every doorway.  A 
hundred goblins tried to squeeze into the hall.  Twenty goblins fell 
immediately taking with them ten of the mercenaries.  Bodies were 
skewered; heads rolled on the floor.  A variety of entrails covered the 
floor mixed with various appendages.  The arches managed to get off a 
round of arrows before dropping their bows and pulling short swords and 
daggers.  Olga got off a spell with disastrous results.  Arzon saw what 
she was doing and hit the floor.  When her incantation was done a 
fireball blew out of her hands and exploded in front of the goblins 
engulfing half the room in a fiery blaze.  Fifty or so of the goblins 
were quickly and loudly burning to death.  Along with them went the 
first two rows of mercenaries along with Alister and one of his 
deputies.  The remaining mercenaries were trying to flee back down the 
tunnel.  The priest and disciples were forced to retreat back down the 
tunnel while Olga had been knocked to the side. 

Arzon got up quickly mouthing the words to an incantation.  Suddenly the
hall before them was covered in sticky, black cobwebs from floor to 
ceiling.  To his left, the witch had lightning shooting from her hands. 
 Five goblins,  (in a line), were skewered by the bolt.  But then the 
bolt bounced, off of the far wall and skewered three more goblins and 
headed straight for Arzon.  Arzon shouted at the top of his lungs and 
raised his arms to the ceiling.  A transparent sphere appeared just in 
time to absorb the lightning bolt.  Olga was just beginning another 
spell when Arzon said a quick incantation and pointed at her.  
Suddenly, her voice stopped.  She was still mouthing the words for a 
second or two before she realized what hap-pened.  He had to cast a 
silence spell on her before she ended up killing one or both of them. 

When Olga realized she could no longer cast spells, she turned and ran
back up the tunnel.  Olga was ahead of Arzon, by about ten feet.  She 
emerged from the tunnel and a crossbow bolt hit her in the center of 
her chest stopping her heart.  She fell forward with a silent scream on 
her lips.  Arzon stopped with an incantation on his lips.  He pulled 
some-thing quickly from one of his belt pouches, did something to it 
and dropped it into one of his many pockets.  He immedi-ately 
disappeared from view.  He heard someone coming and ran back down the 
tunnel and ducked into the first side room he came to. 

A troop of orcs went down the tunnel led by one massive orc and two
orgres.  He waited for them to pass by and crept back out of the 
tunnel.  Outside of the tunnel he saw what must have been the rest of 
the group.  A few orcs lay around them where they had fought.  Weston 
lay on the ground a few paces ahead clutching a medallion around his 
neck.  The top of his head had been chopped cleanly off.  Grayish pink 
matter had fallen out of the lidless head.  The tongue stuck thickly 
out of his mouth.  He smelled like he had voided his bowels.  Arzon 
vomited thickly on the ground.  The queasiness passed. 

This had obviously been a trap.  All of the other caves had had about
fifty to sixty goblins and a handful of orcs in the caves. 

He found the wagons and the handful of mercenaries that were guarding
the wagons.  The other deputy was also there. The child of darkness was 
there also.  He was sitting in one of the wagons.  Arzon told the 
deputy what happened.  He agreed that it had been a rap.  None of them 
wanted to stick around there any longer.  They led the wagons and a few 
of the horses out of the hills.  They feared orc trackers so they 
traveled all night until morning when they reached the gates of the 
city. 

They stopped before the familiar Bluewater Inn as they had done before. 
The deputy left them at the inn.  And went to make a report at the 
Duke's castle.  He would also be returning with their wages, a 
considerably smaller amount as a whole considering their severely 
reduced number. 

Arzon was exhausted.  He went into the inn with his bags a got a room. 
His bill, would be paid, for by the duke while he was still involved in 
this quest of the goblin caves.  He collapsed in his room and slept the 
rest of the morning away. 

Argon dreamt about his youth.  The bells of the temple rang in his ears,
and he heard the prayers of the disciples and the priests coming from 
every corner of the sanctified building.  He made his own prayers 
before the great alter, of the High-god with the other worshipers. 

He had lived at the orphanage for as long as he remembered.  His parents
had brought him to the orphanage as a baby presumably because they 
couldn't afford to keep him.  He had never seen them, and he didn't 
remember them.  Many of the children at the orphanage had arrived under 
the same circumstances (the crops had been bad many years in a row and 
the farmers around Letit barely survived), and he didn't feel any great 
loss because he fit in. 

Some of his companions left the orphanage at the age of thirteen to be
apprentices for the many masters around the city.  Anyone who did not 
acquire an apprenticeship outside the orphanage was simply taken into 
the priesthood.  Arzon was a thin, frail-looking young boy and did not 
attract the attention of the masters who recruited soldiers or heavy 
laborers.  So at the age of thirteen he entered the priesthood at the 
lowest rank of worshippers. 

He was taught his letters and the first prayers from the holy stories. 
His job was to polish the rail and the benches on the balcony of the 
temple.  With the number of worshippers working n the temple, the wood 
benches, ad rails were well oiled and the altar and holy vessels 
gleamed and the floor was dust free. 

The worshippers were also taught to acquire godly favor.  They were
taught to offer incense on the altar every new moon and in return they 
would pray to the Highgod for his favor, the Highgod in the form of a 
mooncandle would display this favor.  Each priest, disciple, commoner, 
or worshipper had one of these candles on a shelf behind the altar.  
They would burn for an entire moon cycle before having to be replaced.  
The candles were made with sweet smelling oil and the whole temple was 
filled with the sweet, fruity scent.  After offering the incense on the 
altar the worshippers were taught to pray for God'' favor in the form 
of the holy fire.  After the prayer was made, if the Highgod favored 
the individual, the wick would ignite. 

All of the worshippers had difficulty with this ritual at first, but
after the first atonement, the holy fire was usually granted to the 
worshipper more readily.  The atonement is an offering for sin.  A 
year's worth of sins in this case.  The worshippers' work is rewarded 
by a single silver coin used to buy an unblemished dove from the market 
during the month of atone-ment.  The atonement ritual is accomplished 
by chopping off the head of the dove, and letting the lifeblood pour on 
the altar.  Then a sharp knife is used to quarter the body.  Incense 
and kindling are distributed over and under the body. The worshipper 
dips his thumb in a mixture of blood and incense and smudges it on his 
forehead indicating whose sins are being atoned for.  Then a torch is 
used to set the offering on fire.  After the offering is completely 
burnt the ashes are buried behind the temple signifying the death of 
the offer's sins.  Then with all of their sins atoned for, the Highgod 
more readily grants fire during the Moon-candle ceremony.   Except for 
Arzon. 

In the dream Arzon was fifteen.  He got up from the prayer rail and
grabbed a crate with two doves in it and brought them before the 
altar... ...I don't belong here... He grabbed the sanctified knife from 
its holder on the left of the altar and grabbed one of the doves out of 
the crate.... This won't work... ...And cut the doves head off. The 
bird flapped and blood splattered on his robes, the altar, and the 
floor.  After the bird stopped moving and the blood stopped flowing, he 
plucked the feathers off the bird and cut through the gristle and bone 
and quartered the bird.  He grabbed the incense... ...I don't belong 
here.... ...From a large tin on the right of the altar and mixed it in 
the blood on the altar and sprinkled it on the bird.  He grabbed 
kindling from a pile on the left of the altar.... ...Please work.... 
...And put some over and under the bird. He rubbed his thumb in the 
blood and incense and held it over the altar and said.... ...Why am I 
doing this?... ...,”For my family, I offer this sacrifice in 
atonement.”  Just like the priest told him to do.  The priest thought 
his family may have sinned against the Highgod and Arzon was 
experiencing his disfavor.  He grabbed a torch from the priest and lit 
the sacrifice.  It burnt well, and the smell of incense and burning 
bird meat filled the air.  The smoke was rising to the ceiling where it 
escaped through a small hole.  He repeated the atonement ritual a 
second time; this time rubbing the blood and incense on his own 
forehead and said, “for my sins, I offer this sacrifice in atonement.”  
He took the torch once again from the priest, and the scent again 
persistent .burning meat...incense.  The priest took the torch back and 
said, that should be well for you child.” . Maybe... ...He fell through 
the darkness and the next thing he saw  was the altar covered in soot.  
He had wanted to go last.  He grabbed a handful of incense and 
sprinkled it on the altar.  He grabbed the torch the priest was holding 
set the incense on fire.  It burned quickly.  The scent of incense 
surrounded him.  His hands trembled. ...Please... ...He handed the 
torch back to the priest and picked up the new Moon-candle.  He placed 
it on the shelf behind the altar and knelt down.  “Most Holy Father I 
ask for your favor.  Highgod bless me with the holy fire.”  Nothing 
happened. Nothing had ever happened.  In the two-and-a-half years as a 
worshipper in the temple, his candle had never lit except by the prayer 
of the priest. 

Hopelessness and a feeling of not belonging washed over him.  He wasn't
worthy.  He was an outcast. 

Arzon woke up immersed in despair.  He could still smell the incense
from his dream.  He sat up and reminded himself that he wasn't 
unworthy.  He was not, meant to be a priest.  His duty wasn't to the 
Highgod, but to His Brother, the god of magic. 

Arzon meditated and memorized spells from his spellbook. Then he went
downstairs to get some breakfast.  He ate a breakfast of eggs, bacon 
and rolls.  The deputy was in the common room.  He paid Arzon and told 
him that he'd been promoted to sheriff.  Sheriff Liam.  He told Arzon 
that he should stay around because he was going to try to gather a 
larger force to finish clearing the goblins out of the caves closest to 
the city.  It appears the Duke still had a vendetta against the orcs 
and goblins of Urdak.  Arzon told the new Sheriff that he would be 
staying at the wizard's tower. 

Arzon walked into the gates of the walls surrounding the wizard's tower.
 There were blossoming trees surrounding him.  Wizards and Wizardesses 
were whiling away the time on benches in the orchard. The Grey granite 
blocks of the tower showed signs of age.  Light shone out of many of 
the windows.  The tower rose three hundred feet in the air.  It was one 
hundred feet in diameter at the base of the tower and twenty-five feet 
in diameter at the top.  He had been in this tower hundreds of times 
since he moved to the city of Milhap.  He walked through the outer 
doors and through a hallway into the stairwell that ran through the 
height of the tower. 

Arzon stood in the middle of the stairwell and performed an incantation.
 He poured a drop of quick silver to the floor-it shimmered and grew.  
A magical disk lifted his feet and he stood in the air on the disk.  It 
was a modified form of Tenser's floating disk similar to that Olga had 
used to carry her baggage.  He willed himself upwards past the 
kitchens, past the servant's quarters, past the magic-user's quarters, 
and up to the warlock and witch quarters.  He floated towards the 
landing, the disk carrying him the entire time.  He stepped off the 
disk ending the spell and stood before the door to his room.  The door 
opened quietly on well-oiled hinges, and Arzon stepped inside.  He 
placed a log of firewood inside the fireplace, and, whispered a word of 
magic.  Fire engulfed the log and a roaring fire blazed in the 
fireplace.  He proceeded to unpack his things. 

Arzon studied for most of the day.  He had borrowed some books from the
tower library One book on polymorphism, one book on lycanthropy, and 
one book on dopplegangers.  He ignored the Warlocks' and witches' 
laboratories.  They were usually crowded with warlocks and witches of 
low level performing some simple spell or concoction (incorrectly more 
often than not). 

The head wizardess of the kitchens handled meals.  She magically
determined which rooms were being used and sent the meals to each of 
the rooms with a word. 

His dinner appeared on the table in his dining room, a small nook right
next to the living.  His stomach started to rumble as The smell of ham 
and steak filled the suite.  His mouth watered and is stomach grumbled 
and his concentration wavered.  He found it increasingly difficult to 
read as he felt hunger pangs in his stomach.  He ate ravenously.  There 
was white wine, a chunk of bleu cheese, rice pilaf, a generous steak, 
roasted potatoes, sour cream, butter, a slice of ham, and tur-nips 
stewed in their own greens.  He ate as much as he could and pushed 
himself away from the table.  He was contem-plating taking a nap when 
there was a knock at the door.  He opened the door and the head butler 
stood in the doorway. 

The master of the tower has called a wizard's meeting for eight of the
clock tonight.  All warlocks, witches, wizards, and wizardesses are 
required to come. 

“Thank you, I'll be there.” The butler floated upward to the to the next
landing.  Arzon closed the door.  He wondered what could be the reason 
for the meeting. 

At eight o'clock Arzon left his room and created the modified Tenser's
floating disk and floated upward to the  “Chamber of Decision” just 
above the wizard's laboratory.  He knew many of the warlocks and 
witches coming into the chamber.  He didn't know those many of the 
wizards or wizardesses because they didn't share any of the same rooms 
in the tower and unless they were instructing the warlocks and witches 
they kept to themselves. 

The room wrapped around the entire tower with the walled in stairwell in
the middle of the room.  Seven mirrors stood against the wall at all 
the points of the compass except north side of the room with his back 
to the stairwell and his image would shine out of the seven mirrors so 
you could see the speakers no matter where you were in the room.  The 
room was also enchanted so you could hear anyone no matter where they 
were in the room.  As long as they were the only one speaking you would 
have no problem understanding what they said. 

Arzon took a seat at the West End of the room.  A witch named Helsa and
a warlock named Milner took seats beside him.  Helsa said,  “Arzon 
Zettos, how goes the fight against the goblins and orcs?  I'd give you 
three copper pieces far a pair of goblins ears.”    And I'd give you a 
silver piece for an orc's tongue for a potion I'm making.  “Milner 
said.  “I haven't got either of those.  The raid on the caves took an 
ugly turn.  We were ambushed and most of our group was killed.  Olga 
died, I barely survived. “Olga's dead?” Helsa asked. “Yes” “What 
Happened?” 

At that moment the wizard of the tower stepped to his place at the north
end of the room.  He said, “Greetings, Wizards, Wizardesses, Warlocks, 
and Witches.  I have important news to share with you.  I have been 
looking in my crystal globe and I saw thousands of orcs and goblins 
pouring out of the mountains of Urdak.  They are assembling on the 
northern hills just a day's journey from our city.  It is obvious that 
they mean to lay siege to our city.”  Voices erupted around the room. 

“Orcs...” “   goblins...” “   Coming for Milhap...” “   What will we
do...” 

The speaker asked for silence and the voices died down.  “Calm
yourselves.  I have already notified Duke Wallace.  He is readying his 
soldiers, and he is asking for our help when the fight reaches the 
walls of the city.  We will be holed up inside the towers that stand in 
the walls of the city.  The wizards, wizardesses will each have a 
number of witches and warlocks assigned to them.  They will act as 
catalysts of the great power the wizards and wizardesses will use to 
defend our city and attack our enemy.  Radner will be passing out slips 
of paper with your intended groupings on them.  They also show where 
you are supposed to stay on the city walls.  Radner made his way around 
the entire room passing out scraps of paper.  Arzon received his.  It 
said he was to be in the northeast tower. Furthest from danger, he 
thought, withAbishag, the wizardess and Antony and Helsa with him.  
Abishag was a wizardess he had never met.  He knew Antony from time 
spent in the laboratory, and Helsa was a friend of his. Helsa and Arzon 
looked at each other. “We'll be together.  Do you know who Antony is?”  
She said.  Arzon pointed to a young warlock sitting on the south side 
of the room with blond hair, blue eyes, and a blue robe on. “That's him 
in the blue robes.  I've seen him making potions in our laboratory.” 
“He's kind of young isn't he?” “He's eighteen and he is at the fourth 
level of wizardry.” “He should have no problem channeling energy then.” 
“No he'll have no problem.  Do you know wizardess Abishag?” “No, I've 
never met her.” The boy with the blue robe on made his way over to 
Arzon and Helsa.  He said, “Hello, Arzon and you are?” “Helsa.” “Hello, 
Helsa I am Antony.” “Hi, Antony.” “Hello, Antony.”  Arzon said, “We'll 
be seeing a lot of each other for the next few days, I'm guessing.” “Do 
either of you know who Wizardess Abishag is?”  Antony asked. “I am 
Abishag, a wizardess said. “And I know of the three of you, if only 
just slightly.”  They turned to face the wizardess.. She was a dark 
skinned woman with gey dreadlocks, Grey eyes, and a long maroon robe 
on.  There was a necklace of bones and a small animal skull around her 
neck.  Her voice was soft and rich.  “You have questions.  I don't have 
the answers, yet.  The warlocks and witches are being dismissed to 
their rooms while the wizards continue there meeting.  I will send for 
you three in the morning when I am ready.  Now return to your rooms.” 

They joined the growing number of witches and warlocks heading out of
the room.  Arzon made his way back to his room.  He studied his books 
some more and thought what the next few days would bring.  He slept 
uneasily.  He dreamt of twisted ork bodies covered in filty, stinking, 
black robes.  He heard wailing voices chanting and screaming.  He saw 
bodies upon bodies with flies and maggots all over.  He saw  the walls 
of the city turned to rubble, and he heard men and women screaming.  At 
midnight he woke up to the sound of drums.  Orc war drums,  He tried to 
sleep, but the drums Kept pulling him toward wakefulness. 

He dressed and left the tower.  He walked through the courtyard
whispering words of magic.  He took a piece of tree gum out a pouch and 
pressed a goat's eyelash into it and folded the tree gum over it.  He 
became invisible.  He placed the tree gum in one of his pockets.  He 
took off his boots and left them by the outer wall.  He walked outside 
the tower's enclosing wall and headed south toward the sound of the 
drums.  After about an hour he reached the southern city wall.  There 
were soldiers lining the wall.  He grabbed a hawk's feather out of one 
of his pockets and whispered a spell.  He floated upward until he could 
see over the thirty five foot high wall.  Campfires covered the plains 
south of the city.  Arzon gasped at the sight.  The drums were like 
thunder.  Vaguely he could hear an eerie sound of voices.  He thought 
he could see signs of movement in the camp.  The drums stopped.  A line 
of torches moved out of the camp.  The torches were thrown onto a large 
pile of wood.  The wood blazed up and the fire climbed to the sky.  The 
voices intensified ina chant.  He could al-most make out the orcish 
words.  The fire grew and intensified,  He could see something moving 
in the fire or maybe...yes...the fire was moving.  A being made of fire 
stepped out of the blaze.  OH, no...a fire spirit!  He had to get back 
to the tower.  In a matter of moments, the assault would begin.  He 
turned back to the city and floated to the tower.  It took him half an 
hour to fly back to the tower.  He grabbed his boots and ran into the 
tower.  He found the head butler's room and pounded on his door.  After 
a few minutes the head butler Emerick came to the door. “What's going 
on, Arzon?  Have you gone mad?” “The city is under attack!” The south 
fields are full of an orc army and the orc mages have drawn a fire 
spirit to fight for them!” “You saw a – a f-*”  His eyes widened and he 
swallowed, “a fire spirit?” “Yes, now wake the wizards before we are 
all slaughtered!” 

Arzon went up to his room and grabbed a wand and some scrolls which he
placed within the pockets of his robe.  He went back downstairs and 
waited.  Slowly, the other wizards began to file out of the tower.  
Alamandar the head wizard of the tower, spoke to the group. “We shall 
head to the southern wall of the city.  You will still be grouped 
according to the slips of paper previ-ously distributed.  Find the 
people in your group and gather around them.”  It took a few minutes 
for everyone to find their wizards, wizardesses, warliocks and witches. 
 Arzon stood facing Abishag with Antony and Helsa on his left.  The 
wizard began speaking again.  “I will now  transport us to the south 
wall.  Stand still a minute...”  He began murmuring the words to a 
spell.  When he stopped speaking they were at the south wall.  A few 
soldiers turned and stared at them. 

Rocks crashed on the walls from the enemy's catapults.  The fire spirit
towered over the wall.  Flames burned the soldiers on the wall and they 
retreated from that section of the wall.  The fire spirit launched 
itself directly at the wall with the force of a large explosion.  
Soldiers flew off of the walls and the stones in the wall were 
beginning to crack. Abishag, Antony, Arzon and Helsa made their way to 
one of the towers on the south wall and looked out at the enemy.  They 
could see the fiery being smashing into the wall.  The tower shuddered 
every time the wall was hit.  The chanting could still be heard.  
Abishag said, “I will need you all to channel your energy toward me.  
Begin Chanting.” 

Arzon began to chant and tried to focus a conduit of energy between the
magical plane and the wizardess.  Antony began chanting in the same 
tone as Arzon, Helsa harmonized with the warlocks and Arzon felt the 
power whipping through him.  If he closed his eyes he thought he could 
see the three power conduits flowing into Abishag.  Abishag began her 
incanta-tion.  She started incanting softly and raised her voice 
steadily.  The power whipped her robes and dreadlocks around.  She was 
screaming now.  Cords stood out on her neck.  Sweat drenched her.  The 
wind began to whip in a frenzy outside their window.  A funnel began to 
form.  A tornado swirled in front of the window.  The wizardess' 
screams could no longer be heard over the roar of the tornado. 
Something split off of the tornado.  It began moving toward the fire 
spirit and the tornado dissipated.  Abishag stopped screaming but kept 
her concentration focused on the wind spirit.  A rumbling sound could 
be heart.  A water geyser shot out of the ground near another of the 
towers.  A water spirit stepped out of the geyser and made its way 
toward the fire spirit.  The wind spirit and the fire spirit were 
fighting.  The fire spirit was more powerful and was winning.  The 
rocks under the fire spirit erupted, and an earth spirit began to 
attack the fire spirit.  The three spir-its began to overpower the 
greater fire spirit.  Lightening forked down from the sky engulfing the 
wind spirit.  The wind spirit dissipated.  Abishag shouted words of 
magic and the stones of the temple pulsed with her words.  Rocks rose 
out of the round into the air and disappeared from view.  The fire 
spirit dissipated and the earth and water spirits turned toward the 
enemies army and began moving in the direction.  Lightening arced from 
the sky and began striking the earth spirit over and over until it was 
no more.  A fireball streaked from the chanting orcs to explode on the 
water spirit.  A hundred magical bolts streaked at the water spirit and 
dissipated it just as it reached the orc camp.  Large flaming rocks 
began to fall out of the sky into the enemy camp.  They exploded at 
random in the middle of the orc camp.  The towers began to be assaulted 
by the catapults.  Lightening streaked from the sky and boomed on the 
towers. 

Abishag began to chant.  She yelled one word and  the tower was covered
in a soft light.  Antony could no longer take the train and fell over 
unconscious. Abishag maintains her concentration and is still able to 
draw enough power from the war-lock and the witch to maintain the 
protection spell she cast.  Rocks hurled by the enemy catapults no 
longer hit the tower, and the lightning was absorbed by the protection 
spell. 

The enemy's army began to shift.  A large group of goblins moved toward
the city wall.  They entered bow shot range. “Archers!” was shouted.  
Archers lined up on the city wall.  “Fire!” 

A volley of arrows shot across the distance between the wall and the
enemy.  Arrows landed everywhere among the gob-lins; in necks, in eye 
sockets, in ears, in chests, arms, legs and skulls.  The screams of the 
enemy could be heard.  The enemy closed on the wall.  While they were 
still a ways off they let loose their own flights of arrows from short 
bows. Another volley of arrows struck the goblin archers as the goblin 
arrows struck the soldiers on the wall.  The screams of men and goblins 
filled the air.  Men fell from the wall to the dirt below and broke 
theirs arms, legs, and necks. 

Another group, of goblins makes, their way toward the city.  They come
carrying ladders, shields and swords. The men on the wall fire arrows 
at this new group of goblins. 

Abishag begins to chant again and shouts a word of magic and the air
around the soldiers began to sparkle. Another volley of goblins arrows 
flew toward the soldiers on the wall, but they bounced harmlessly off 
of an invincible barrier. 

The goblins prepare to scale the wall.  Arrows drop many goblins as they
rush in the last 10 yards.  They set their ladders, and climb up 
quickly.  The men atop the walls use pikes to push ladders full of 
goblins away from the walls.  As the lad-ders fall back the goblins 
leap off spraining tendons, breaking bones and crying in agony.  Swords 
are drawn, across the wall, and the massive swarm of goblins is beaten 
back again, and again. 

Another wave of goblins make their way to the city wall replacing the
dead or wounded who are trampled under their feet. 

Another, flight of arrows, released by the goblin archers.  Still the
magical barrier protect the soldiers on the wall, and the Arrows fall 
harmlessly to the ground.  The flashes of lightning draw away from the 
towers along the wall and begin to strike the wall itself.  Men along 
the wall, fell spasmodically to the ground below.  The men that fall 
from the walls are re-placed quickly.  The men are tirelessly repelling 
the invaders. A group of men and women on the ground behind the wall 
begin chanting a hymn.  As the song rises to the ears of the defenders, 
fresh courage and strength seems to flow into them.  The goblins can 
find no foothold on the wall.  They are having a hard time wading 
through the dead bodies at the foot of the wall.  The catapults shift 
their attacks from the shimmering towers to the city wall.  The large 
stones bounce off of the walls and smash into the defenders crushing 
bod-ies to pulp. 

The goblins are able to breach the wall where the catapults and
lightning strike the wall the hardest.  Goblins pour onto the wall 
before the defenders can push them back.  The defenders attack the 
invaders in earnest.  Heads and arms go flying.  Bodies are skewered.  
Red and green blood pours onto the dirt below in a steady stream.  The 
screams of the dying are never-ending. 

The priests of the Highgod try to tend to the dead and the dying, but
their numbers are too few. 

There seems to be movement in the orc camp.  One of the other wizards
casts a light spell.  Because he is able to draw magical energy from 
other magic-users, he is able to create a false sun high above the city 
walls.  The defenders and invaders squint and blink against the light 
that is as bright as daylight.  A large mass of the enemy is making 
there way westward. 

Abishag casts a huge blazing fireball down to the enemy goblins.  A huge
explosion erupts among the goblins sending hundreds flying.  Magical 
darts assault the goblins from another tower.  Wave after wave of the 
magical missiles pierces the goblins. 

The lightning and the catapults stopped assaulting the walls.  The
catapults were headed west.  A wall of fire erupted in the midst of the 
goblin archers.  They rolled along the ground.  Their flesh blackened 
and cracked.  The smoke from their burning rose into the sky. 

Abishag said a few words of magic.  Arzon and Helsa chanted with
clenched fists, and sweat drenched bodies.  A strange green cloud came 
out of the ground, the invaders.  The goblins began to cough and choke 
wherever the cloud moved.  Many clawed at their eyes and throats.  Some 
fell over dead. 

The defenders pushed the ladders away with more fervors.  A group of
soldiers picked up their bows and rained arrows on the goblins.  
Hundred of goblins lay dead at the foot of the wall.  A few soldiers 
lay scattered here and there at the foot of the wall where they had 
fallen over. 

The waves of goblins stopped coming, and the remaining goblins not
caught in the noxious cloud began to run away south trying to escape 
from the archers on the wall.  The wall of fire died down, and forked 
lightning shot down from the skies destroying the rest of the goblin 
archers. 

Bodies lay everywhere.  Some with arrows bristling out of heads, backs,
everywhere.  Others were unmoving on the ground with charred holes 
burned into them.  Some lay strangled on the ground.  Others charred in 
fire.  Many were skewered or decapitated or lay twitching on the ground 
next to their lost limbs as the lifeblood poured out of them. 

The defenders let out one large cheer.  Then the drums started again. 
This time to the west.   The soldiers lining the west wall could see a 
large force coming toward.  Siege towers rolled steadily toward the 
wall.  The catapults fired flaming pitch covered ammunitions at the 
wall and the buildings beyond. 

The orcs created another bonfire.  The raging flames, ferociously,
dancing to the sound of orcs chanting.  A battering ram wheeled its way 
toward the west gate.  The orc chants rose to guttural screams, and 
once again a being could be seen in the flames.  The fire spirit 
stepped out of the fire, and the orc ranks split to allow the fire 
spirit passage. 

A horn sounded on the west wall.  The reserved troops made their way
through the city to defend the west wall.  A crowd of soldiers gathered 
around the west gate preparing for the worst scenario to occur. 

Abishag listened as the horn blast sounded.  “The enemy must be
attacking from the west.  We must hurry.  Arzon pick up Antony.”  Arzon 
grabbed Antony and shook him awake. “W—What hap*---happened?”  He said 
“No time to explain.”  Abishag said.  “Gather in close.”  Abisag raised 
her arms high above them and spoke ancient words.  As she finished 
speaking they teleported to the west gate.  They saw other groups of 
wizards running nearby.  They ran for one of the towers beside the 
great gate.  They took to the stairs to the second level, but four 
magic users already gathered around the window there.  So they climbed 
the stairs to the third level and found the room deserted. 

Abishag took her position by the window.  Antony sat numbly by the
stairs, and Helsa and Arzon began their harmonic chanting.  The magical 
energy began to flow and the wizardess began speaking the strange words 
of magic.  Outside the window, the fire spirit towered over the gate.  
It began to throw itself against the large gate.  The gate ignited as 
if covered with oil. 

Magical bolts streamed out of the first floor window, fifty at a time
and pelted the fire being.  A blizzard poured out of the other tower 
swirling around the fire spirit.  Twenty green arrows hovered in the 
air around Abishag.  She pointed to the window and the acid filled 
arrows flew out toward the fire spirit.  Acid splashed all over the 
being.  Holes appeared here and there in the being's fiery cloak.  The 
fire spirit still battered at the gate.  A tornado swirled down and 
whipped the flames of the fire spirit, lightning streaked from the 
other tower causing the fire being to explode in a shower of 
fire-works. A massive bolt of lightning streaked from The orc camp to 
the gate splintering through the top of the gate. 

Four orgres could be seen pushing an iron capped battering ram to the
gate.  Arrows bounced off of shields lining the top of the battering 
ram.  Orcs pushed the siege towers up to the wall.  Orcs fought their 
way onto the wall.  The west door was splintering and burning. 

Fifty pound balls of lead, were dropped through murder holes onto the
battering ram. 

The gate split apart and orcs streamed through the breach holding the
doors open.  The soldiers rushed forward to defend the city.  Archers 
atop the wall shot the invaders as they came but there were too many.  
The invaders were pouring over the wall, and through the gate. 

A large fireball shot from the hands of Abishag and exploded among the
rushing orcs.  A hundred fell battered and burned with broken and 
charred limbs flailing.  A blizzard poured out of the other tower and 
froze a large member of the orcs to death.  Creeping vines arose from 
the ground in front of the gated stopped the invaders from getting 
through the gate.  Flaming rocks covered in pitch were still flying 
over the walls setting buildings on fire. 

The defenders were able to repel the orcs that had gotten through the
gate, but orcs still came through the siege towers onto the castle 
wall. 

A huge bolt of lightning shot through the window, and abishag barely
raised a shell of magic over her in protection.  The lightning bolt 
used up the anti magic shell and Abishag took a moment to gasp, and 
catch her breath. 

The orgres had abandoned their battering ram and made their way to the
gate regardless of the vines.  They were batter-ing their way through 
the soldiers.  A priest who had made his way to the western gate 
paralyzed one of the ogres.  The soldiers hacked it to pieces.  Some 
pike-men managed to skewer another of the ogres and hold it while the 
other men cut off its legs and then its head.  The other two ogres 
pushed their way into the city.  The soldiers stayed to defend the 
gate.  Orcs had started hacking their way through the vines and through 
the gate. 

Some of the wizards had made their way down to the gate.  The soldiers
made way for them and they shot three bolts of lightning through the 
gates, and tore a hole right through the middle of the orcs' ranks.  
Lava sprouted out of the ground and oozed over the orcs' bodies.  
Undead orcs were raised and they fought their way into the gate before 
being repelled. 

The magical light faded just as dawn arrived.  The sun shone upon over a
thousand dead orcs and thousands of dead goblins.  Human bodies 
littered the walls and streets.  The orcs and goblins retreated in the 
daylight.  Two orcs and gob-lins were still running loose in the city.  
But they had survived the attack thus far.  The soldiers that could 
went exhausted to their beds.  The other soldiers stood watch sleepily. 


Many citizens woke up to heavy work at the city's gates.  Bodies needed
to be burned.  Houses and other buildings needed to be repaired.  The 
gates needed to be repaired. 

The magicians found and trapped the two ogres before they had done much
damage. 

The wizards and their company retired to the Tower of Parsil.  Arzon
went to to his room and slept, and dreamed. 

He dreamt he was an orc.  He was covered in filthy black robes.  The
moon shone down like a pale white eye.  He heard a low rumbling.  The 
moon winked out of existence, and the stars grew brighter.  The stars 
seemed to grow and fall to-wards the earth.  The rumbling sound rose to 
a deafening thunder.  He felt a hot gaze staring down at him as if a 
giant eye were blazing down at him in the sky.  He felt like a trapped 
rat and began to scream a guttural scream and run, but it was no use.  
The stars exploded into the ground around him, and the earth opened up 
in a vast chasm eating up him and devouring everything around him.  
With teeth of stone the ground swallowed him up into darkness. 

He felt a sensation of rising up.  He was in a stone room with curtained
windows.  Books in all kinds of leather binding lined the walls.  In 
the middle of the room was a table with a cloth draped over it and a 
single chair.  On the table was a crystal glove sitting in a gold cup.  
Multicolored light was coming from the globe.  The man was Alamandar, 
the towers' head wizard and he was talking  to the globe, or to someone 
inside it. “   need your help.  I will speak to the king immediately to 
request your aid.  Without your aid, we risk being overrun by goblins 
and orcs.” “Calm yourself Alamandar.  All will turn out well in the 
end.  If the king grants your request and I assure you he will, then I 
will come immediately to deal with this threat to your city.” 

Arzon moved closer and he could see the face of a wizard shining in the
globe.  It was the Arch-wizard of Persis.  The king's wizard and 
advisor. 

“Felis, I appreciate you understanding my concern and the need of the
city.” 

The wizard in the globe pointed over Alamandor's shoulder directly at
Arzon, “Alamandar you have a visitor.” 

Alamandar turned to look at Arzon and raised his eyes.  Arzon looked
down.  He was floating in the air in the head wiz-ard's seeing chamber. 
 A silver light surrounded his transparent body and an umbilical ran 
from his navel to the floor. “Arzon, how dare you spy on me?  I order 
you to return to your body at once!”  As if pushed by the wizard's 
words he careened downwards through several levels of the tower and 
into his body lying in his bedroom. 

He sat up in his bed and tried to hold onto the shreds of his dream and
his little out of body experience.  He had not had an uncontrolled 
spirit travel experience in a long time.  He started having oracular 
dreams and out-of-body experiences as he neared his sixteenth birthday. 
 As he neared the time when he should have been promoted from 
Worshipper of the Highgod to Communer of the Highgod.  Instead because 
of his dreams and spiritual travels, the priests decided to d something 
they rarely did with the followers of the Highgod.  The performed an 
augury over him to find out where Arzon belonged.  It was a slightly 
expensive spell to cast.  It required an expensive prism and a fair 
amount of gold dust, both of which would be used up at the end of the 
spell.  The priest burned incense then sprinkled gold dust over Arzon 
and held the crystal prism high in his right hand.  The gold dust began 
to shimmer.  The prism began to glow brighter and brighter while the 
priest went into a trance.  The light intensified until you could not 
look directly at it, and the priest spoke a name “Marmaluk.” 

Marmaluk, God of magic, Brother to the Highgod.  Giving magical energy
and holding the keys to the different planes. 

Arzon was taken to the Wizard's tower in Letit and taken in by the
wizards there.  He worked for the wizards in the kitchen and learned 
magic quickly.  The hand of Marmaluk was definitely on him.  He felt a 
great sense of belong in the tower that he never had before.  That 
first year in the tower was one of the happiest he had ever known. 

Arzon went up to the Warlock's and Witch's laboratory.  He walked past
the tables to a corner of the room with silver dust and soot on the 
floor.  Arzon swept up the dust and soot meticulously.  He grabbed a 
pouch off of a shelf and began drawing with silver dust on the floor. 

He drew a circle and a hexagram inside of it.  He drew runes to the four
points f the compass and a rune in the center of the circle.  He then 
took a piece of chalk and drew a circle with a pentagram.  He spoke 
softly in the language of magic.  The silver dust began to glow.  He 
called to the watchers in the ancient name only magicians knew, 
D'narluk.  He chanted an incantation to keep the magic flowing and to 
keep the portal open while he waited for his summons to be answered.  
There was a flash of smoke and a creature appeared in the midst of the 
silver circle.  The D'nurluk was coal black and looked like an imp 
without wings.  Its pale yellow eyes had no pupils or irises and shone 
with their own light.  Arzon spoke a word of magic and the watcher 
moved out of the silver circle and into the chalk pentagram.  The 
watcher reeked of brimstone.  There was a censer nearby.  Arzon poured 
some incense in it and lit it with a word.  The incense and smell of 
brimstone mixed and became more bearable.  Arzon sat on the cold stones 
of the floor and closed his eyes and relaxed. 

Arzon was adept at out of body travel.  When he was younger, in the
months before he was brought to the wizard's tower.  Marmaduk would 
send a watcher spirit to him.  He would then leave his own body not of 
his own volition and travel to the moon, other continents, or to the 
stars, or even to the other planes.  When he went to the wizard's tower 
he learned the name of what he'd been doing all along: Astral or 
spiritual travel.  He learned about watcher spirits and how they guard 
the body while you travel.  He learned of the umbilicus and how if it 
is ever cut on one's travels the spirit will never find its way back to 
the body.  The spiritual body is invisible on the earthly plane to all 
except those who can see the invisible.  His spiritual body rose out of 
his flesh and bone body like a snake shedding a skin.  He opened his 
eyes and took charge of himself and he made his way at the speed of 
thought to the western- wall.  He saw the tents and their dark paints 
re-flected in the sunlight.  He moved forward in a blink of the eye and 
hovered above the tents.  He waw two tents of black cloth decorated 
with orc rungs painted in red.  One was a long low tent that could 
house maybe twenty people.  The other was a very large tent decorated 
with all types of bones and skulls.  This one must be the tent of the 
orc shaman leader. Arzon looked into the larger tent first.  He thought 
he would have less of a chance of being detected there.  Inside it was 
dark.  In one corner, two orc shaman shared a roasted rabbit.  About 
ten other made orcs layed on cots and snored loudly.  In another corner 
an orc was using a crystal prism to read a scroll.  The scroll was 
written on skin instead of parchment.  Maybe human skin, Arzon thought. 


The orc saw Arzon out of the corner of his eye, but when he turned to
look at him he saw only the dark tent and the other orcs sleeping and 
eating.  He held up the crystal to his eyes and spoke a single guttural 
word of magic.  At the same time, Arzon swiftly shot out of the top of 
the tent.  If he was detected he could be attacked, and he could not 
cast spells with his spiritual body alone.  A greater magician could. 

Arzon floated over to the other shaman tent.  This time he only stuck
his head in.  The great orc shaman was asleep, but he sat bolt upright 
and said in the orc tongue, “Who is there?  Mamuk, Gril'nuk?”  Arzon 
left the tent and rose high in the air.  Hundreds and hundreds of tents 
were spread out on the plain beneath him.  Orcs and goblins ran here 
and there.  Carrying messages, chipping wood, and a myriad of other 
things. 

He headed back to the castle where bodies were still being burned and a
makeshift door was being made.  The door was made of long beams of wood 
almost straight up into the sky with tree cross beams of wood nailed at 
the top, middle, and bottom of the door.  The door was nailed onto a 
short platform of wood  with braces nailed to the middle cross beam and 
to the end of the platform. 

Arzon flew to the tower and made his way back to the laboratory.  He
found his body and the watcher spirit both motion-less on the floor 
where he left them.  He reentered his body. “There were no problems?” 
he asked the d'nuluk. “No master.” “You may go then.” The watcher leapt 
from the pentagram to the silver circle with the hexagram and rune and 
disappeared in a flash of light, a cloud of smoke, and the smell of 
sulfur.  The silver became darkand sooty and the chalk became just a 
smear on the floor. 

Arzon made his way to his rooms.   He told no one what he saw.  He knew
the master of the tower had already seen as much or more than what he 
had seen through his seeing stone or other means he had. 

He studied his books from the tower library.  At dusk they were all
summoned to the “Chamber of Decision.”  They took their usual seats in 
the chamber.  Though seating was only loosely arranged, with the 
wizards in the north and the low level witches and warlocks in the 
south and everyone else in between, everyone usually took the same 
seats in the chamber.  Alamandar stood at the speaker's position and 
began to address the audience. 

“Wizards, wizardessess, witches, and warlocks, you performed well in the
defense of the city, but we came close to hav-ing a hoard of orcs 
marauding inside the city walls.  We did have two orgres causing chaos 
in the city for several hours, but let's leave that.  We have enlisted 
the aid of the Wizards in Persis.  We have petitioned the King, and he 
granted our petition.  He has granted us the assistance of his closest 
advisor, the Arch-wizard Felis.”  A murmur went through the warlocks 
and witches at this.  The wizards and wizardesses seemed to already 
have this knowledge.  The tower wizard continued.  “The arch-wizard 
Felis will be assisted by the wizards and wizardesses of the tower.  
The warlocks and wiz-ards are each assigned to one of the towers of the 
western- wall.  Your job is to vanquish  any survivors of Felis's 
attack.  I dare say there will be none.  You all shall bear witness a  
wonder this evening.  We shall all be indisposed in the tower's seeing 
room.  Radner will pass out your tower assignments.” 

Radner got up and passed out the tower assignments.  Arzon was assigned
to the tower to the right of the gate.  Magi-cians of all level were 
leaving the room.  Arzon saw the wizard he saw in the seeing stone get 
up and talk to Alamandar.  Felis was dressed in white robes with gold 
trim.  He wore a high conical hat with runes stitched on it in gold 
thread.  His white hair was trimmed neatly and covered the nape of his 
neck.  His white and silver beard covered the bottom of his face and 
flowed to a point just above his belt.  His eyes glinted silvery grey.  
He and Alamandar spoke of some trivial thing, and then Felis laughed 
heartily with his whold body at what his friend had said. 

Arzon shuffled out of the door and floated down to his room.  He grabbed
a wand and some scrolls and hurried to the bottom level.  The scent of 
flowers greeted him as he stepped into the orchard.  He faced the 
western-wall and pulled out a scroll he had never used before.  He read 
the magical language on the scroll and as he did each of the words 
burned from the page.  As he finished reading he appeared in front of 
the western gate with the charred scroll in his hands.  He tossed it to 
the ground and ran to the right and into the right tower.  He created 
the Tenser's modified floating disc and floated up to the second level. 
 He was the first one there.  He took a position by the window.  He 
thought of the protection spells he might use if he were attacked.  He 
waited for the other warlocks and witches to show up.  It didn't take 
long.  Milner showed up, Antony, Antony's friend Roger.  A witch named 
Gabriella and a warlock named Belfast.  They all gath-ered around the 
window muttering parts of spells they might need in a few moments. 

The drums started.  They could see movement in the orc camp in the dusk
light.  The camp-fires sprung up.  Then some-thing else happened.  
Silence covered the city and the plain.  They could no longer hear 
anything.  Clouds began to gather heavily in the skied.  The sun 
disappeared in the west and the moon turned to blood.  Suddenly sound 
came from everywhere.  The ground began rumbling.  Fiery streaks roared 
across the skies.  Meteors streaked across the sky and crashed into the 
enemy camp with cataclysmic results.  The ground thundered and shook 
with every meteor hit ground, bodies, and tents flew into the air 
broken and battered. 

Then the ground grated and roared and rumbled like some titan's throat. 
The earth split apart like great jaws.  The earth shook and swallowed 
up the orcs in their camp.  The stone of the west gate split apart and 
fell to the ground in pieces.  Some men held on to the wall for dear 
life.  Others went flying.  Arzon and his comrades lay sprawled over 
one another in a heap.  The top of the towers collapsed.  Men and women 
ran screaming fearing the end of the world had come.  The jaws of the 
earth opened and closed swallowing the entire orc camp.  Meteors 
exploded all over the plain.  After an hour's time, the nightmare 
finally ended.  The wall had shifted and some of the large stones fell 
from the wall.  Arzon and the others disentangled their bruised bodies 
and looked out of the windows.  Craters and cracks lined the plain to 
the west, but no sign of the orc camp could be seen. 

How Ragnull Survived 

The great shaman Ragnull moved outside of his tent.  He was about to
gather the other shamans.  The drums had started and it was almost time 
to start assaulting the human city.  All of a sudden the entire plain 
was silent.  Nothing could be heard.  It was a magical silence.  He 
looked to his right and the drums nearby were still being struck by the 
drummers.  He felt a hot gaze staring at him from the sky.  He could 
feel the power behind the gaze.  He screamed in mute protest at the 
sky.  All he could think of was leaving yet if he waited until he could 
use his voice it would be too late.  He pulled a bloody scroll of human 
skin out of his robes and prepared to forsake the orc camp and the 
younger shamans.  He read the words on the scroll silently and 
concentrated on them will his being.  He waved his hands in the air and 
pictured his crooked tower in the mountains and disapeared. 

Of the Death of Felis 

The chanting wizards gathered around Felis as he finished incanting the
two spells.  The seeing stone winked out.  Felis turned around.  When 
he did all the wizards who could see him gasped.  He had aged forty 
years in the space of an hour.  His eyes had clouded with cataracts.  
His hair hung in shaggy tufts.  Most of it had fallen to the floor.  He 
had wrinkles upon wrinkles on his face.  His teeth crumbled and fell 
from his mouth.  He stank of urine.  He staggered to the floor and 
Alamandar caught him.  His face was flushed, and he burned with fever. 

He was put in the care of the priests of the Highgod, but Mamaduk had
claimed most of the life left to him.  They had no elixir of life.  
They were no prophets who could raise the dead or grant long life.  
They simply made him comfortable and prayed to ease his passing from 
this life.  The only thing that could save him from death would be the 
rites of the Lich, and that would be a kind of undeath. 

There were no rites of the Lich performed.  Felis passed from this plane
one week from the last day of the orc battle. 

The King of Andar was furious at having lost his chief advisor and
arch-wizard.  He taxed Milhap fifty-thousand gold coins for the loss of 
his wizard and took the Arch-wizard of Bryton on as his chief 
counselor.  Arlis,  the former Arch-wizard of Bryton, was the only 
arch-wizard left in Andar. 

The orcs of Urdak had nothing to do with the men of Andar for the next
twenty years.  In that time Arzon joined the ranks of wizards of 
Milhap. 


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