Ripples of Shadow
Chapter 3 - The Plan and the Reckoning

The air around the mountains of the Hinterlands grew sour with the stench of death. The dwarves of Aerie Peak were no strangers to battle, yet today they fought a foe with solid determination. Sounds of war filled the air, and desperation coursed in the veins of soldiers fighting for their very lives.

Cold winds buffeted Baelof as he glanced down below and grimaced. So the fool girl thinks to deal with the commander of this army by herself? Right now, he could not spare another moment’s thought for the mage. The Death Knight below had summoned large bats to battle with his Wing. The bats were fast, and they tried to close on the gryphons quickly. But Baelof’s Wing was well trained. The dozen split into four groups of three, each watching the other. They spiraled up and down, allowing small breaks in their formation for a bat to swoop in on one gryphon, and the other two would fall in behind and with their blue hammer bolts shred it to nothing.

A dozen or so more bats closed in on his group. Baelof signaled his two wingman, and took point. They flew straight at the bats for all they were worth, flinging bolts into the flight. Two bats broke off and closed on Baelof’s flank. He turned his head in time to see his wingmen similarly flanked. It would be every dwarf for himself. “Aye, you want to play do you?” Baelof shouted at the bats behind him. His gryphon, Aralis, would not fail him, she was the best. He heeled her into a steep dive, straight at the ranks of the undead below. His hammers blurred as he flung bolt after bolt into them. Just as it seemed he would plummet to his death, he reined her in, pulling her into a sharp climb. At the apex of the climb, Aralis pulled her left wing in and being a loose spiral back down to the ground. This gave Baelof the perfect vantage point to incinerate the trailing bats with his bolts. Aralis leveled out and Baelof grunted. “Time to see to the rest of the Wing girl.” Aralis chirped and they flew.

.....

Hendrig panted, leaning on his axe. The corpses of zombies and ghouls lay all around, yet some of their parts refused to stay dead. Here and there an arm or leg writhed, only to be quickly stilled by an axe or hammer from a dwarf. Hendrig knew the battle wasn’t over, but any momentary respite was well welcomed. A horn sounded deep within Aerie Peak, and a lump formed in his throat. Another wave of the undead army was on its way.

“Do there ever be an end to these blasted things?” Hendrig murmured into his beard as he hefted his axe in both hands. The dwarves all around him were grimy with dried blood from head to toe, they were all impossibly weary, but could not lay down arms. No, never that. There were no reserves left in the fortress. Only those too weak or injured to continue were carried to the infirmary. The rest were out here, the Wildhammer’s last line of defense to their home. Hendrig gazed ahead, to the line of solid trees just as the undead army broke through the underbrush. Ghouls and zombies with no mortal limitations rushed to meet their dwarven targets. True, no blood rushed in their veins, and they had no real flesh to tire, but they also lacked emotion. They lacked the ability to love, to desire, to hate. And right now, all of those emotions boiled in Hendrig’s blood.

“Lads! Take up yer arms. This fight…this fight will be the last. Here and now we will make our stand!” Cries of “For Wildhammer!” and “For Aerie Peak!” resounded all around him as dwarves readied themselves for the coming onslaught. The undead reached the line of dwarves in a melee of clashing steel and bodies. Hendrig made a silent prayer as his axe met again and again with the steel of unholy minions all around him.

.....

Mitsume gasped as the sword slammed against an invisible sheen of magic close to her face. This death knight was pressing her for all she was worth. She pulled every trick she knew, and this blood elf countered them each time, all the while laughing. For hours they had danced around each other, exchanging blasts of magic, each countering the other. But now she was beginning to tire, and he knew it. It was time to try a new tactic.

She concentrated, and frost leapt from the ground and froze his feet where he stood. Startled he glared at her. Mitsume wasted no time; icy shards flew from her hands and penetrated his armor. Cold air swirled around him, wrapping him in a cocoon of frost.

No time for thought. Mitsume remembered the massive red oak behind her. She blinked. Standing now on a branch some fifty feet in the air she found her target again. He was struggling furiously to free his boots. She wasted no time. Pulling more energy from her being she began to fling immense balls of fire from her hands. After the third she jumped from the tree, slowing her fall to the ground she delved deeper and blasted him with more arcane magicks. A green glow surrounded him and she gaped. He was absorbing her magic! As she landed her hands leapt to her throat. She gasped for air. The death knight sauntered towards her. Mitsume’s breathing was being constricted, she lost her concentration, her magic evaded her. He reached out a hand and she felt her entire body wrapped in power. The death knight pulled his hand back and she hurled unwillingly towards him. Malothys loomed over her, and stared down with icy blue eyes.

“Now you will know death.” His voice rasped coldly. Heartbeat. She felt helpless as he raised his sword high above his head… Heartbeat. His face was a solid stone as he gazed down at her. Heartbeat. Malothys swung his sword in an arc towards Mitsume’s neck. Heartbeat. A single tear fell to the soil. Heartbeat.

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