Valkyrie's Shadow

Winter's Crown: Act 5, Chapter 9

Winter's Crown: Act 5, Chapter 9

Chapter 9

The tribes of Qrs’ people were distributed somewhat evenly over their territory into smaller villages, which served as centres for the many family groups that either lived in the villages directly or in the forests surrounding them. Eleven villages meant that roughly 11,000 of his people were on their way at best – not counting the 1500 or so those from his own village’s area. The reports from the various, often confused, sources in their sudden evacuation could not give him any concrete numbers, but he would see for himself soon enough.

He silently shook his head as he tried putting a number to all the fleeing people he had seen along the way. While half of the villages were reportedly overrun, it did not mean that the other half would arrive unscathed – or at all. The small groups living out in the lands outside of the villages would be easily overwhelmed by the numbers of Fiends he had witnessed attacking their lines so far. The warning from the runners he had sent out would have needed days and weeks to reach most of them; it was a miracle that they had reached half of the villages in time. Hopefully, survivors from the outskirts would appear at some point, but the rest of them couldn’t afford to wait with Jaldabaoth’s forces nipping at their heels.

The howls of the Hellhounds and sounds of light battle filled the air as the next wave was put down all along the column. Qrs pointedly stayed out of the fighting as he continued organizing his people.

Like most Lords of various races, Qrs was not only a powerful member of his species but had also developed the supernatural ability to lead and support his people. The effects and abilities varied from race to race, but, under his leadership, his people became more coordinated, iron-willed, and fought harder. He could see the people’s expressions lift even as they laid eyes upon. They grew hopeful and confident, understanding that he had come to lead them personally. At his orders, the lines drew together to become tighter and easier to defend as he slowly worked his way down the river of refugees.

Village chiefs – like Dol – also demonstrated similar qualities, but Qrs was the greatest leader in his tribe. Under his tangible influence, all understood that he stood over them, and no one could challenge his authority or skill. In times of strife, the other chiefs fell into their role as his captains, leading warbands composed of forces from their respective villages.

He stopped occasionally to see how each village’s mystics were doing, and it turned out that they had actually fared far better than his own. Attacks had been light – it seemed that the speculation about how Qrs’ village was the hardest hit out of those that had shown up was correct. Still, it also meant the missing villages had been hit by something far stronger, else there would at least be some loose survivors coming in even while his runners were arriving to inform the others. Once the main body of Jaldabaoth’s forces was done with those villages, Qrs thought it highly likely that they would be coming their way.

The sound of approaching Hellhounds filtered through the forest again as he found the end of the procession. Two village chiefs – Gad and Bowge – were bringing up the rear with their warriors.

“Looks like it’s the same thing back here,” Qrs noted after they finished with the newest set.

“Yep,” Bowge said. “We’re getting pretty good at taking ‘em out now – even the unblooded warriors and hunters. The time between waves is getting longer since we’re getting rid of them faster. For being on the run, this feels a bit…relaxing? Haven’t had this much fun since that Baafolk raid that got full of themselves and ended up in our neck of the woods.”

“I don’t get it,” Gad lowered his battleaxe and turned around to face Qrs. “They’re spending so much mana conjuring these weak summons – why don’t they just fly in and hit us with some spells that actually hurt?”

“Jaldabaoth has been taking his time capturing the peoples in the hills for months,” Qrs told him. “His goal isn’t to kill us.”

Qrs looked up into the night sky. As long as everyone had travelled so far, dawn was still hours away.

“Speaking of which,” he added, “have there been any Imps?”

Bowge and Gad exchanged looks.

“Imps?” Bowge said, “No…why?”

“My village was attacked by hundreds of them,” Qrs said. “All at the same time – not like these packs of Hellhounds that come in nice little waves. I figure they tried to paralyze us by taking out the tribal leadership, but we were stronger and more coordinated than they thought. That’s why we’ve got these Hellhounds now – they’ve realized we’re one move ahead of them, and they’re tracking us for something nastier that’s on the way.”

“Saying something like that is bound to invite trouble,” the sound of Hellhounds approached again, and Gad sighed. “See? Well, at least it’s just Hell–?Fortress?!”

The sound of Gad’s impromptu parry rang through the air as a blur descended from above. A creature bounced off of Gad’s enhanced defence, and Bowge kicked it to the ground. Qrs stepped forward to smash it with his war club, shattering its carapace with a dull crunch. They stared down at whatever it was that had fallen upon them, wrinkling their snouts at the pungent odour.

“What the hell?” Gad said, “A Blader? No – what is this thing?”

The disintegrating corpse had a partially insectoid look, with two huge scythes similar to what one would find on a Blader – a mantis-like race that lived in the Abelion Hills. The sound of chitinous wings filled the air as more of the Fiends fell upon the column, and the sound of battles joined along its length rose in the air.

Qrs helped the rear finish the additional assailants that had dropped down from the skies and surveyed the damage. As with the Hellhounds, these new creatures appeared to be summons, but they were substantially stronger. Several warriors around him had received deep gashes, and the uninjured warriors moved to intercept the Hellhounds that were trying to get by.

He walked over to a Shaman tending to the wounded.

“Mystic,” he said. “Do you know what those were?”

“I’ve never seen the like before, Chieftain,” she shook her head. “They are beyond the summons that we’ve seen so far, but they’re still probably a kind of Fiend. Those scythes have some sort of venom on them, and it’s hard for most of our people to resist it – this is going to cost us in mana.”

Qrs turned his head at the panicked squeals of children somewhere up the column.

“We’re the strongest in the rear,” he told Bowge and Gad, “and it’s probably another half hour until we get to my village’s position.”

“Go on ahead Chief,” Gad grunted with a rough gesture of his head. “We can keep this up no problem.”

Qrs made his way back southeast along the column, passing groups of warriors being tended to by healers. Though not extraordinarily strong, these new arrivals were enough to be a real threat to regular combatants who were caught alone. Fortunately, the abundance of mystics in the tribe ensured that all but immediately fatal injuries were handled in a timely manner.

Fifteen minutes later, the baying of Hellhounds filled the air again. His pace quickened, and he ran a critical eye over the lines for any weak points in their defences. Though the columns had not broken up after the last attack, the warriors defending them had tightened into fighting groups capable of conservatively handling the new arrivals. The sturdier villagers had weapons readied to defend the resulting gaps: just in case Hellhounds managed to slip through.

His gauntlets creaked as he gripped his war club, senses alert for any sign of an attack. The first Fiend dropped down amid a group to his right. Another dropped down on the group to his left a second later, and Qrs quickly looked over each battle in turn. He calmed greatly after watching them for a few moments.

The first wave had been a complete surprise, but that was all the defenders needed to adapt to their new opponents. Since they were only a bit stronger than their seasoned warriors, these new insect Fiends could be dealt with safely when they were juggled defensively between the members of each group.

With a satisfied nod, Qrs decided to head to the front of the column and get the people of his own village moving.

“?Savage Blow?!”

His weapon caught one of the newly arrived Fiends across the midsection as he jogged by a group along the way. It ruptured and split in half, spraying the ground with foul-smelling ichor.

“Don’t take too long putting these things down,” he told them. “We should be fine if it’s just this, but who knows what the next surprise will be. Once you’re done with yours, leave two defenders for the Hellhounds – the others should help out with the groups to either side to speed things up. Pass the word.”

The heads facing him nodded, and four of the group of six split away. Qrs looked to the Druid supporting them from the rear.

“How’s mana holding up?”

“Since the last attack, gaining, actually,” the Druid replied. “Surprises like the last time can put us behind, but we’re wise to their tricks now. We’re making extra sure not to take damage from these new bugs.”

“Good,” Qrs said, “keep it up. We’re almost all together now.”

Qrs continued up the column, noting their progress. The freed-up warriors that had gone to assist their neighbours already overwhelmed the next insect Fiend, and the process appeared to be repeating itself up the line. He took heart in the fact that they appeared to be doing well, but Gad’s observation kept tugging at him from the more wary corner of his mind.

Was Jaldabaoth so obsessed with capturing them that he was willing to expend this much mana in an effort to whittle down their strength? There must be some other scheme in play, or perhaps some limitation that Qrs was unaware of. If Jaldabaoth himself came, he could probably use the power of his voice to turn everyone right back around and march them straight into their respective cages.

Given the size of the wilderness, Jaldabaoth’s forces might have been spread thin, and some lesser minions had been sent to deal with their tribe: ones that they might be able to defeat directly, and so resorted to these massed attempts at harrying them.

When Qrs reached the head of the column, the hastily arranged defences of his awaiting villagers were already in sight. There were no signs of battle in the surroundings, and a sigh of relief escaped his lips. He spotted Rhag and the other elders, who were already sending the people east.

“It didn’t look like anything happened, but…”

“Nothing happened,” Rhag said. “We’ve had our chance to rest, but the rest of the tribes coming up behind us seem just a bit too energetic for having had a running battle for the last few hours…”

“We’ve been fighting,” Qrs told them, “but the fights have been manageable. What you’re probably seeing is exhilaration over their clear success against our foes, not knowing just how powerful the master of these Fiends is. This is nowhere near as difficult as it should be…and that’s what worries me.”

They fell into step with the rest of the column, and he summarized what had happened. Rhag listened intently, frowning slightly over his thoughts on their odd circumstances.

“You are the greatest chieftain of our tribes,” Rhag said, “and your expertise as one who has seen many battles is something I can only defer to. As for the magical end of things, there is at least some precedent. These Fiends – these Devils and Demons – have the ability to summon their kin, and they may also have the ability to cast spells that do so as well. Rather than a single, powerful Fiend, it may be an army of weaker ones in this part of the wilderness: coordinating their efforts to capture whoever makes the land its home at Jaldabaoth’s bidding.”

Could the explanation be so convenient? The tribe’s casters tended to organize themselves, seeing to their own respective roles, so Qrs knew little about magic beyond its basic applications. It would be prudent to rely on the wisdom of the tribe’s High Druid. He certainly had no idea about what Fiends could do beyond the weak ones that were occasionally summoned as servants and expendable combatants by those who dared to use them.

That being said, there were too many questionable tactics being employed against them.

“I still have my doubts about what’s going on,” Qrs said. “Sending these attacks against us so regularly will only make us accustomed to fighting them. Our people will grow in prowess as time goes on, while their summons remain the same. These unseen summoners must realize that they are becoming less effective with every failed attempt.”

“One can hardly argue against the results,” Rhag chuckled, “and we should take what we can from events that have befallen us. This strategy they are employing hones our fighting edge, which will only help us going forward.”

“Unless we get attacked by both Fiends and eastern tribes at the same time,” Qrs frowned. “I’m still debating whether we should rest before crossing or try to get as far away as possible.”

“The people will be dead on their feet by the time we reach the river,” Rhag told him. “We’ll be easy prey for the tribes of The Neck if we attempt to cross their territory in such a state. Not only that, but we are also lacking in provisions.”

“You’re right,” Qrs agreed. “I agreed to wait for the Gnolls at the ford as well. Still…I just can’t shake off this feeling that something else is going on.”

“Then what would happen if we change the plan?”

“In what way?” Qrs frowned.

“Like staying to defend our lands,” Rhag said, “or at least finding a highly defensible position to weather out the storm.”

“I can’t see how that would be possible,” Qrs told her. “Even if the strength of our foes stays the same – which I doubt will be the case – being pinned down by Fiends in one place means that we can only fight. The initial reports say that half of the villages are on their way; gathering food, building homes and lives…it’s impossible to settle down again with these constant attacks. We can either flee or fight a futile war where our strength slowly wanes until it falters and we are overrun.”

“Then our course remains unchanged,” Rhag turned her attention forward. “We must focus our efforts on the long journey ahead.”