The Game of Fates (39 page)

The
tall elf watched as the last of the kobold wolf riders plunged into the canyon
across the valley from him.  Though the distance was extreme, probably half a
day’s journey, Arren’s eyes were typical of an elf’s; even from this distance
he could count individuals.

After
the wolf riders, the rabble of kobold levies followed, slowly filing into the
mouth of the canyon like sands through the neck of an hourglass.  Finally,
after that mass, a group of much larger humanoids, hobgoblins most likely by
their canter, who had been seated around a small, smoky fire on a spur
overlooking the mouth of the canyon, gathered their equipment and set off in a
group at the tail of the orc horde.

Ardan
had stopped counting exact numbers some time ago.  He had a good feel for how
many there were, and he had whispered for Keryak to come up and join him to do
just that anyway.  Even now Keryak sat on the other side of the hole from him
counting with his fingers and placing rocks in a small pile Ardan had started
for every ten he counted.

The
orcs looked fearsome.  They reeked of blood and were carrying meat in varying
stages of decay with them.  Their armor was mostly chain mail, blackened as
proof against rust, the rings themselves being heavy and wide, made by hands
that had more strength to bend larger, thicker rings than patience behind them
to intermesh smaller, tighter rings.  Their weapons were far from uniform. 
Most of them carried a broad, heavy bladed scimitar of one form or fashion. 
Many of them also had spears, though javelins and throwing axes were more
common.  A hodgepodge of bows were scattered here and there among the orc
warriors, though Ardan could see that they left them strung, which in a matter
of weeks would rob them of their strength.  Indeed, he could see by the easy
manner that some of them bent with the orcs’ movements that the bows lacked
most of their tension already.

On
the orcs’ heads were an assortment of helmets, but among the orcs there seemed
to be almost no shields.  Their only other protection seemed to be their long
hair, braided in thick, black dreadlocks that hung wildly about their necks,
heads, and shoulders like matted ropes.

As
they walked, the hobnail boots they wore beat the stone and dirt of the passage
in a constant, throbbing rhythm.  Some of the savage warriors hummed or
guffawed some infernal song or another in their native tongue, though the close
quarters of the passageway seemed to still all but the most impetuous tongues
among them.

Finally,
after a lengthy time and a count of more than five hundred and thirty orcs,
there was a brief pause followed by the shuffling rumble of several large
beasts coming through the passage.  Within moments the first of the ogres came
through the passage below the two kobolds, his back scraping the ceiling while
his sloped forehead was visible underneath his tangled matte of hair.  In one
hand he held a great battle axe clutched close to his side while he supported
himself with his other hand and both knees.

Many
other ogres passed through like this, the stench of their sweat-soaked leather
armor permeating the little hole where the two kobolds sat counting and
observing.  They brought an assortment of weapons with them as well, but most
of them had a great axe in addition to whatever great spear, great bow-sized
javelin, or ball and chain they had.  When they had all passed, Keryak looked
up at Ardan with worry in his eyes.  In his hand he held five rocks.

While
one or two ogres was a formidable factor in any skirmish, fifty ogres was quite
a force to be reckoned with.  Though they were cunning, they were generally
devoid of intelligent thought, but in a group of fifty you really couldn’t talk
to them, and it would be desperately hard to trick them or bribe them all to
leave.  If it came down to fighting these brutes en masse…  Keryak just shook
his head in despair.

Ardan
grabbed Keryak and pulled him back from the hole.  In moments the much softer
patter of wolves’ paws could be heard through the hole and the smell of fellow
kobolds began to permeate the lingering stench of the ogres’ passage.

“The
kobolds they had with them,” Ardan whispered breathlessly in Keryak’s ear. 
Keryak nodded.  After a moment, and in such a manner as to be looking at the
back of their targets’ heads, Ardan leaned forward and looked down at the
passing host.

They
wore chain mail armor, freshly oiled and warm with the heat of the ride.  Their
helmets were forged, not cast, and their shields were in perfect repair and had
leather coverings over them to protect from rain.  Their spear tips looked
razor-sharp and were mounted on solid staves of straight wood.  By their sides
they each carried swords in hardened-leather sheaths.  On the backs of their
wolves they carried bows in scabbards on one flank and quivers of uniformly
fletched arrows on the other flank, saddlebags bulging with rations sitting
squarely on each wolf’s hips.  The uniformity of it all and the disciplined
silence of the warriors was intimidating.

In
a strange departure from the uniform strength of the first ninety warriors came
a group of ten more riders, five of whom were armored with shields, but carried
an assortment of hand weapons only, no bows or spears.  Following those first
five were five more who were not armored at all, and carried only staves and
long knives.  While his heat vision did not reveal the details of their
clothing, he could see well enough to know they wore only robes, and that two
of them were female! 
What a strange thing indeed
, he thought.

Following
this contingent of a hundred came several hundred northern gen warriors of
typical quality.  With their mismatched weapons, mostly short spears, and their
lack of any armor and carrying wicker or leather hide shields in addition to
sacks full of what had to be rations and blankets, they were by far the least
imposing group that had passed yet… but there were about four hundred of them,
and the numbers alone were something to be concerned about.  They seemed to be
led in groups of a hundred by a northern gen leader with another of these
armored kobolds serving as his second, or maybe an advisor.  In the front of
them another small cadre of these armored kobolds riding wolves as well had
been leading them.

Though
it seemed forever, eventually a small group of hobgoblins, armed and armored in
a strange fashion, brought up the rear.  Ardan didn’t get much of a look at
them, as they passed so quickly and his attention was almost strained to the
limit, but he figured they must be the brains of the operation, as hobgoblins
had a reputation for cunning and manipulation far in excess of that which orcs
and ogres could muster.

After
waiting a few moments to ensure all danger was past, Ardan and Keryak crawled
back down the crawlway to make their way back toward their company.  But as
Keryak slipped over the ledge into the chamber below, Ardan hesitated.

“What
is it, Ardan?” Keryak asked.

Ardan
chewed his lip as if he were struggling with a decision.  “I need to see if
they’re moving farther tonight, or if they’re camping on the far side of this
tunnel.”

“What
makes you think they’d be camping there?” Keryak asked.  “They haven’t moved
very far from where they were when we last saw them, certainly no more than a
day’s journey for a kobold.”

“Yes,
but this orc chieftain might be stopping to wait for daylight before he gets on
his way again.  After all, we can see the heat of his warriors from much
further than he and his orcs with their black and white night vision can see
us.  If he’s smart, he’ll wait for day to eliminate that advantage before
moving.  Besides, I hear entirely too much noise still for them to be gone.”

Keryak
nodded.  He’d noticed that the noise hadn’t subsided much after the entire
contingent had passed, but hadn’t thought anything of it.

Ardan
slipped off the stone balcony onto the sand below.  Grabbing his bow, he told
Keryak to stay put and padded carefully down one of the two passageways.  When
he reached the main thoroughfare where the entire horde had passed, he looked
in both directions and, seeing nothing, followed the recently passed
contingent.

Approaching
the far end of the passage, he made his way clear to the end of the passage by
listening then inching forward, stopping to listen again, then inching forward
again.  After several long moments, he arrived at the entrance, relatively
confident that no one was in the immediate vicinity.

Looking
out at the little canyon that surrounded this entryway into the mountain, Ardan
could see far down the length of it bonfires that the orcs had set up to light
the night.

‘Fires,
a clear sign that they’re staying for a bit,’ Ardan muttered to himself. 
Withdrawing from the entrance, Ardan ran back to join Keryak, and the two of
them hurried back to make their report.

Morigar
and Krebbekar stood looking out over the southern valley.  Night had fallen
again and the late spring air on the pass was cool as it blew over them.  It
hadn’t taken long on the north side of the pass over the Chop to see that the
entire orc horde was beginning to pass into some previously unknown hole in the
mountain chain that sprawled out to the west of them.  Now, as they stood
looking over the southern valley, they saw the head of the long snake of orc
warriors poke out from the mouth of a canyon on the southern slopes of the
mountains.  Though Krebbekar’s eyes weren’t that good anymore, even he could make
the connection that somehow the orcs had either opened up or found some
long-lost passageway between the two valleys.

As
if that weren’t enough, far to the south, at the foot of the southern mountains
that ringed their home valley, were seething masses of what had to be the great
ants.  They seemed to be split into five main groups, and for now they seemed
to be stationary.

Sitting
directly between the two forces, the two Krall Gen leaders could see the heat
rising from what had to be the entire Krall Gen force in the valley not more
than a half a day’s journey to the south of where the orc horde was emerging
from the mountains.  If the orcs made straight for the main path between the
Kale and Krall Gens, they’d run straight into the Krall Gen’s forces!  If the
ants, on the other side, made straight for the Krall Gen forces at anywhere
near the same time, it would be a massacre.

“Morigar,
the horde is between where Durik’s Company was planning to exit the underdark
and where our people are encamped.  Durik won’t be able to reach them to give
them warning.  We have to warn Lord Krall!” Krebbekar stated once the
realization of what was happening struck home.

“Yes,
we do,” Morigar agreed.  After a moment of silence, he turned to Krebbekar. 
“Why don’t you take your riding dog and go and warn Lord Krall.  I can see that
there’s not enough time now to hire a mercenary army, and it appears that the
orcs will be past this place soon, so I’ll go gather our two warriors and join
you and my father later today, not long after sunrise I’d imagine,” he said as
he looked up at the stars to see how much of the night had already passed.

Krebbekar,
feeling the urgency of the moment, didn’t even notice the disingenuous look on
Morigar’s face as he stared fixedly down at the valley below.

“Yes,
sire, I believe that’s the right course of action.  I’ll be going immediately,
then.”  He turned and patted his riding dog on the nose.  “You ready, old
girl?”  Turning back to look at Morigar, he extended his hand to grasp his. 
“Now don’t be getting in trouble while I’m gone, will you?  Your father would
never forgive me.  I’ll see you later today.”

Morigar
nodded and smiled faintly, almost distastefully, as Krebbekar and his riding
dog began making their way down the southern slope of the Chop.