The old fortress of the Aun was still visible up on the edge of the Plateau.
Unlike the Hea, the green-furred tumeroks had never been subjugated or altered by the Virindi. The Hea had set up their base in the Northern Dires to be available to serve their masters more readily, so the Aun had been left to deal with the olthoi/Wharu. Thus they had built their stronghold atop the plateau to have a base closer to where they had to fight, and so they could reinforce and rescue their hunters and shamans out fighting.
With them pulling out of ML, it had fallen to the Hea to hold the line. Their work with the virindi made them extremely competent fighters and spellcasters, but they’d lost their ancestral magicks and so the use of Natural power to restrain and confine the bugs. Thus they were forced to use the deaths-heavy method of straight-up combat to keep the bugs contained.
It certainly didn’t help them at all when olthoi improved by renegade virindi started appearing and making their lives more difficult, either!
The lesser Hea tribes had never been happy with the virindi, although the younger, aggressive Hea wanting the easy power and levels had been sucked into their power fantasies. Many, if not all of them, had wound up greater warriors and shamans than their seniors were.
It hadn’t done them any good against Isparian adventurers, even if it meant they kept easy pace with the banderlings and drudges also powering up in the Direlands under virindi training. When the Isparians were slammed so harshly during the Fall, the Hea had thought it was their time… and then they realized just how much stuff the Isparians had been keeping in check with their rampant slaughterfests all over the place, and their dreams of absolute domination were massively hard-checked.
Not to mention they were still slaves of the virindi, and the Aun basically washed their hands of the Hea and left to them the tedium and travails of dealing with Wharu.
Word through the tribes was that the Hea had been forced to shift a lot of troops to the Timaru Plateau to deal with the increasing aggressiveness of the bugs, and the situation was getting worse, not better. Overlord Arantah had been forced to move his court to Timaru from the Direlands to oversee the struggle recently, and things weren’t looking good.
Whispers that the Raven Hand had shown up about then had been enough to force us to react, and so here we were, coming up on the edge of a two-hundred-foot, almost blatantly artificial escarpment with a single strong river pouring off from it.
Neither Kris nor Mick slowed down in the slightest as they went from horizontal to a running vertical in two steps.
A number of Aun who thought we were going to crash shielded themselves, and everyone got a good chuckle out of them as they brought down their arms, watching the cliff face rising in front of us all with incredible speed as Kris and the Mick ran right up the side of it as if it were level ground. Chuckling ruefully, the Aun stood there and watched with everyone else as the lip of the cliff above us arrived speedily, and the two of them pulled a roller-coaster swirling movement, basically rotating through 270 degrees as they jetted thirty feet into the air, scaring the shit out of the Hea sentries on bored guard duty there as they came over the walls… and instead of clearing the massive, acid-scarred logs, they turned to the left and trotted on down to the side to circle around the walls, clearly making the choice not to come over the sides as the sentries urgently set up a hue and a cry of alarm about Isparian intruders.
Still, there was no frantic sniping or spellcasting at us as we came around the side of the walls, although the Hea did rather frantically close the main gates and the guards there jump inside as we pulled up before them a nice forty yards shy, easily within arrow range, but making no aggressive moves as yet.
Brash Isparian muscle-flexing.
Briggs bounced twenty feet into the air and came slamming to the ground, the stony path there clearly crunching in nice big indents around his boots while he barely flexed his legs, landing in front of everyone.
“The Warlords and King of Freehold have come to Timaru! With us is Hea Kjealo Chieftain, who can vouch for our conduct during passage to Timaru!” his magnificent baritone rolled out.
The chieftain stepped forth, plainly recognized by those watching nervously from the tops of the walls. Also recognized was Hea Kurugus, as tonk Hea were literally non-existent here, and his name had spread far and wide among them.
Then Hea Rheaga floated off his Wagon seat, and Great Warchief Aun Gulchuta also stepped forth.
“Open,” the tall and noble Warchief said, waving his hands absently at the great gates.
There were quite a few shouts of alarm as the gates shuddered and stole open of their own volition, throwing back not a few Hea there gathered up behind them.
Timaru Fortress stood open to us, welcoming back the Aun who leapt lithely off the top of the Wagons, as did King Borelean.
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The tents that had once stood inside had been replaced by stone buildings, although the wooden lodges were still mostly intact, albeit divided internally more than they had been in the past. There were at least a couple hundred wine-skinned Hea in the fortress right now, with barracks room for considerably more built up inside, and probably excavated out beneath the place.
The Hea nobles coming out had been caught off-guard by the sudden opening of the gates, and winced when they were caught in mid-stride.
The Isparians in unique black and red Armor among them were caught equally flat-footed, gaping at us fellow Isparians outside the Fort.
“Hea Arantah Overlord,” Commander Briggs said in a magnificently steady baritone that was all the more knee-shaking for how absolutely emotionless it was, meeting the glowing green eyes of the tumerok who’d forced the Hea down the path of virindi service with his conversion and the powers the virindi had granted him. “Perhaps you’d like to introduce your very, very important guests there.”
Two Auras further back in the complex and out of sight spiked instantly. Sensitive heads turned in that direction, as those riding inside the Wagons began to disembark.
With clanks of Armor far heavier than anything the Hea could wear, eight Lugian Vanguards, led by Gros and Kopf stomped into position, four to each flank.
Directly after them came eight Gearknights, all of them Silverslaked to nearly eye-watering shining brilliance. They were only a shred shorter than the Lugians, just as broad, and clearly back and fully functional as they came up with their own Vanguard Shields to form a towering and very functional Shield Wall behind Commander Briggs.
Behind Commander Briggs, Atamarr the Golden Primus of the Gearknights stepped into position with disconcerting lightness. He stood a full head taller than Briggs, with a Sword held in one hand longer than an Isparian was tall, and his own Vanguard Shield taller than any other there. Silvery mithral and blue-black adamant chased the polished atargold inlays over his golden hide, and to say he looked singularly impressive was not an overstatement in the slightest.
A whole lot of soldiers and Knights of the Lost Light in Hollow Olthoi Celdon, very similar to what Princess Kristie was wearing, flowed into place behind the Vanguards, ready to back them up or Wolfpack with them, whatever was needed.
The Wagons turned slowly sideways, and the Archers standing atop them were shoulder-to-shoulder, fully ready to raise their bows and shoot.
One group was led by the regal figures of the Queen Mother and Royal Princess. The other group was led by a woman bearing a spiked Autobow of unique design, spiked olthoi armor, and piercing blue eyes ready to do what she did best.
An Olthoi Queen was on the board, and as promised, Lady Vundanewall had been released from her position as the Olthoi Hunter of Arwic. The Archers around her were from that selfsame tribe of mine-dwellers who had fought off the olthoi for so many years, all of them also bearing new Bows and Autobows that bore elements of their famous Olthoi-Slaying Weapons, as well as Hollow Olthoi Celdon armor.
They had all been practicing savagely in the fast-spawn Olthoi training Dungeons, setting that off with selected rampages across the Dires to gain Matrix Levels to buttress their Skills and improve their Named Weapons. They were here to show everyone how true Olthoi Slayers worked, and Lady Vundanewall was their chosen speaker and inspiration.
The air was crackling with tension as I and the support mages and shamans stepped into the lee of those Vanguard Shields, their bearers towering over us and clearly ready to snap their Shields into place to cover us.
The Hea were clearly nervous looking at us, and all those Weapons of the Lost Light pulsing and blazing in absolute synchronicity, a display of all hearts as one that they could not hope to compete against.
King Borelean said nothing more, but there was a slow, steady pulse beating from Briggs’ Greathammer, and in time with it, two deadly notes rang out sharp, eager ding-tings!…
His famous Greatsword in-hand and pulsing with Lightningphasing purple voltage, Hea Arantah Overlord stepped forward through his warriors, unable to deny the challenge that was being made here to his authority, even though it had not been elucidated.
“Rheaga,” he greeted what was basically his opposite number. Hea Rheaga was a known pacifist, a true Shaman, and even more altered by Aerbax than he had been as a child by other virindi. Rheaga was also older, and seemingly unable to undergo reversion after what was done to him.
“Arantah,” was the equally calm reply, no honorific. “It has come to the attention of my allies here that you have a problem you have been unable to deal with, in no small part due to the interference of your masters.” The Prodigal Tumerok’s head lifted slightly, golden eyes spritzing with energies within. “How are your new allies working out for you? Have they replaced your prior masters yet?”
There was a growl from the many Hea there at the disrespect, but their eyes couldn’t hold the knowing gaze of Rheaga.
“She is one of the greatest Isparian mages, Rheaga. The magic she has been willing to share has indeed been useful against the most powerful olthoi who resist spell and sword.”
“Void Magic. Still not parting with your precious Blood Magic, I see, Nuhmudira?” Rheaga’s voice rose in serene mockery.
“Have we your promise of neutral ground, Your Royal Majesty?” a coolly confident and sharp voice rang out instantly in reply, dismissing Hea Rheaga’s statement.
King Borelean glanced at Commander Briggs and Princess Kristie. The one just grunted unwillingly, the other rolled her eyes in total irritation… and wagged her finger back at me, just to be sure. “My people will not be the first to attack, Nuhmudira. Please tell me you are planning treachery with the time we are giving you.”
A smugly amused laugh was his reply, and a moment later, she came sweeping around the edge of the Overlord’s lodge, accompanied by her personal silent masked bodyguards… and another woman.
She affected deep blue robes trimmed with white and gold, cut severely and in good shape, plainly enchanted with protective dweomers of the highest caliber. She was a severely thin, ascetic older woman who appeared as a Gharu’n elder, but all there knew she was Milantian and no desert-dweller, despite having suborned the scholar-assassins of that Isparian people. Her skin was dark brown, her hair a natural white and still thick, if trimly cut, and her eyes lightless and dark. Somehow, the lines on her face only seemed to radiate malice, not warmth, as she came forward through the Hea, who hurriedly removed themselves from her path.
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