He woke up, and found himself face to face with Plain-Walker.
“Ulain?!” Said Birch. “What are you doing here?”
“I am here to remind you of your task.”
“Ah”
“Take Lux to the place of the sun. Today.”
“Lux?”
“Yes. Lux is the correct elf for the task.”
“But-”
“This is the word of the Tri, Birch. Do not think to oppose the will of Uger.”
Plain-Walker Vanished.
“Bother!” Said Birch.
(End of part III)
That night, the new leaders of Jonak and Inja met to discuss the future of both of their tribes. They created a treaty, and made new laws.
Later, the people of both Inja and Jonak came together to pay their respects to the dead Chieftains of both tribes, who had killed each other in the battle.
A Blighted-One funeral is not like the funerals of humans, with whom a funeral is a very sad thing. A Blighted-One funeral is more of a celebration of the dead's life, his achievements, and his glorious death.
The funeral was separated into events. One was an act depicting the lives of Void-Wind and of the Warlock, One where the Blight-Elves sang songs of their deeds, Several where warriors battled for honor, a great hunt, some feasting, more singing, children dancing, and heartfelt words.
The new Chiefs, Lotus-Blight of Inja, and Sorrow-Field of Jonak, gave speeches, and the Celebrations ceased. A new era in the desert had begun.
Ching, clang. Miss, bang. Metal to metal, metal of fate. This is the sound of sinful war. This is the sound of sinful war-lords.
Deadly hate, bloody bait. Art of war, great for lore. Love must wait, for death to abate.
Void-Wind quickly began to assail the warlock, using intricate attacks to get past the Devil-Sworn's defenses, and he succeeded in cutting the warlock's leg. But the falx is not built for defense, and he had to use all of his agility to survive a flurry of strikes from the warlock. Ching! Void-Wind's attack hits the armor of his opponent, and metal meets metal. The warlock strikes Void-Wind's side, and pain blooms. Void-Wind falls, and strikes through a gap in the Warlock's armor. The warlock screams a victory call, before realizing his opponent has wounded him. They are both on the ground, Void-Wind stabs his falx into the heart of the warlock, and everything goes black.
Duel of art, duel of death. Duel of hate, vengeance and wrath. Two warring tribes have peace, when one's champion dies, and brings unity.
The enemy force was truly a sight to see.
Some held basilards, blades glinting in the sun. Their fighters held claymores at the ready, and their hunters swung clubs, as if their very lives depended on crushing Jonak' skulls with them. All wore katanas, the weapon of a true warrior in their mind.
Fifty four Inja warriors Charged forth on giant coyotes, war-hammers gleaming. They struck down five of Jonak's warriors, and then seven more before Jonak drove them back, killing twelve and wounding sixteen.
Void-Wind watched in satisfaction as the cavalry of Inja was driven back into enemy ranks. He shouts, calling his warriors into battle as he charges the katana wielding army of Inja, he kills three of the closely packed warriors in a single sweep. Battle lust was upon him. Slash, slice, cut, dice. Such a wonderful thing. Death littered the ground around him, it's scent feeding his lust. Wood for the fire.from the corner of his eye, he sees his army fighting behind him. To his left, magic burns the ground. He cuts on.
Ahead he sees warriors massing, as if to protect something. The battle flame bursts up, growing steadily. He has reached the heart of the enemy. He has reached the warlock.
Void-Wind is light. With the power of the sandstorms of the outer desert, he slays the foe. He is immortal. He is death itself. his blade is as the scythe of doom, finding all chinks in the heavy armor of the opponent. He is the wind which replaces life, with void. With horrible determination, he cuts his way through the lines of the enemies strongest warriors. And meets the one he seeks.
The warlock was covered from head to toe in plate armor decorated with the red of Injan priests. He nods, as if he had expected Void-Wind. “Ello Void Eind.” he said.
He drew his katana, and Void- Wind drew his falx.
(To be continued...)
Death litters the ground, the corpses of Inja and Jonak alike. Death mounds.
The hunters of Inja's right wing were swift, and death rained down upon the defenders of Jonak.
Birch carves through the right wing. Destroying a hundred hunters. But holy fire is not powerful against mortals, and many were left unscathed.
Birch watched as Void-Wind cut through the enemy, falx gleaming. He shattered their formations with terrible speed, and in the time Birch had killed a hundred, Void-wind destroyed three hundred. Then, in even less time, he and his greatest warriors destroyed the right wing.
__________________________
Both wings annihilated, The warriors of Jonak who focused upon the wings turned upon the center force and, in one strike, sent the enemy fleeing.
__________________________________________________
The warriors had just begun began to howl victory shouts, when the main force attacked their backside.
Death. Amongst the people of the valleys, and the people of the marsh, death is disgusting, as vile as the Demons of Blood Peak.
To The Blighted-Ones, death is an art, a precious portion of life's path, a dance. One step, you cheat death, second step, you are death, third step, you are dead. This is why those few who know of the Blight-Elves also know that if you need someone dead, go to the desert, Blighted-Ones make very good assassins. Their beliefs make them perfect for it, morally. They are also the perfect choice do to their bodies, Black as night, and naturally nocturnal.
This is why, the day of the battle, a child who had helped Birch move the broken body of the poor girl, asked him, quite casually, "Why do you look so sad, sir?*" Not to say that they do not mourn, but the mourning is kept hidden by all but those very close to the dead, and even they wait until a proper time, and only very briefly.
*By this time Birch had learned the basic language of the Blighted ones.
In a matter of seconds the entire army was upon Camp Jonak.
ten of jonaks warriors were quickly killed by the ballistas. A little girl, having snuck out of the huts to watch the battle, was crushed by a catapult's boulder.
Inja's left wing attacked from one side, while their hunters struck from the other. The main army charged forward to meet Jonak's front lines.
While the battle raged around him, Birch focused on raining holy fire upon the ballistas and catapults, and soon the war machines were
nothing more then specks of ash on the wind.
_____________________________________
Void-Wind is light. With the power of the sandstorms of the outer desert, he slays the foe. He is immortal. He is death itself. His blade is as the scythe of doom, finding all chinks in the heavy armor of the opponent. He is the wind which replaces life, with void. With horrible determination, he cuts his way through the lines of the enemies strongest warriors. His followers rally at his horrible strength, and the left wing is decimated.
At dawn, Camp Inja's Warriors Attacked.
A horde of Red-Garbed Hunters wielding Tomahawks charged ahead of the rest of the army, shrieking with the insanity of the possessed. Behind them, Ballistas were being placed for fire, and catapults were being pushed forward, ready for battle. Club wielding Warriors marched to the left of the main army, while lithe hunters Wielding Sickles took the right. The main force wielded twin katanas.
The Quarterstaff wielding hunters were easily killed, and in their blind rage they began killing each other, and, when the insane Blight-Elves finished each other, the warriors of Jonak were quick to create a wall of corpses from the carnage.
(To be continued…)
