A Mustering at Nellyg's Noch
by John CalvinGeneral Dryag stood up in his saddle to get a better vantage of the troops moving by, as his war mastiff shifted its weight beneath him. Several more figures broke off from the main column to join him on the promontory. The beasts they rode were as large as his war mastiff, but leaner and with a glint of red and orange in their fur. Puffs of smoke escaped from their maws when they barked.
"General Dryag," the lead gnome said with a flourish, doing his best to bow while strapped into his saddle.
Dryag return the greeting with a nod, but kept his face impassive. "Exarch Juraed...may I take your presence as a sign of Zugzul's favour on this little expedition?" As he spoke the deep gouges under his left eye seemed to pulse with an inner red light.
Juraed's skin was pale and stretched tightly over his skull. The rictus grin he sported must have taken a great effort to force. "Not so little, it seems." When no reply was forthcoming he continued, "You have to admit General, that this is much more than some slave capturing exercise. I hear that Khergyd of Gromvand has personally brokered some deal with the abominations in Mogreth, and we are to meet their troops on the other side of these mountains. Such an effort must have the support of the Elder Conclave."
Dryag grunted, and squeezing his knees directed his mount to the edge of the promontory. Exarch Juraed spurred his hellhound forward, joining the general. Both sat silently as the last squad of giantkin from Tynghed traipsed by. The Exarch's conscripts, gnomes and dwarves from Gromhyeld, marched four abreast up the dusty trail and were close on their heels. Dryag knew full well that the skull faced gnome was right. Troops from scores of estates had already made the trek over the winding mountain pass. Estates across Gromvand, Himmevand, and half a dozen others from Thallyste, had all contributed to this effort.
On the valley floor below, more troops formed up waiting for their turn to pass, among them the free companies. Half a dozen Enthrallers clumped together under a shadow in the southeast corner, the other companies giving them a wide berth. Dryag knew that three others had already gone ahead of the marching column and would begin engaging the enemy as soon as they were in sight. Sentinels of the Dusk trickled into the valley through various means - overland, through tunnels in the mountains, and possibly even by magic. The riders and their spectral mounts congregating on the valley floor waiting for their numbers to build before making the final push to the other side of the mountains. Dryag doubted he would see any of them cross over the pass, but knew they would be waiting on the other side when he and his men finally emerged. In all there were a score of mercenary groups participating in this excursion. The most impressive, and disturbing of the bunch were the Seekers of Redemption.
Dryag suppressed a shudder as he considered them. Their bodies were twisted and corrupt, even by Moadreg standards, yet they maintained perfect rank. Heavily armed and armoured, and augmented by fell machines from Himnem, every last one of them remained at their silent vigil, waiting patiently for all others to pass. Should this little venture succeed Dryag could find himself the master of his own estate... should it fail however he may very well be forced to join the Seekers' ranks.
A lone figure riding a shadow beast slowly began its way up the trail, stopping by from squad to squad to converse with the leaders of each group. As it approached the promontory the setting sun glinted off of a square jaw of polished silver, and two wispy figures could be seen hovering near each shoulder. One of the shades pointed upward, and the rider spurred his mount forward. In three great leaps the shadowy beast and its rider were face to face with the others.
"I'm very impressed Sehgdar," drawled the gnome, "but isn't this overdoing it for a slave run?"
The newcomer ignored the gnome completely, pausing to survey his surroundings, before finally turning to address general Dryag. When at last he spoke, his voice was metallic and raspy, "This... endeavour has been sanctioned by the Conclave."
"You overstep your bounds," the gnome spat, "as has Khergyd! I don't know what her real motives are, but I'll find out. By Zugzul's name, I know she cares little for the plight of these lizards, or for acquiring slaves of her own."
"I don't know what you're so upset about, I thought you flame heads lived for battle," Sehgdar replied, still without looking in the gnome's direction.
Juraed clenched his fists until his knuckles shone white. His entire body trembled so violently that Dryag thought he might fall from his mount. "I fight for Zugzul! Not your sister!"
Several of the dwarves inhaled sharply at that last comment, including the two fire heads flanking Juraed. Dryag let his hand drop toward his axe, but made no move to grasp it. Several of the others did the same, coaxing their mounts into better positions should any fighting break out. Invoking familial ties in a public setting was beyond reprehensible. Blood feuds had started for less, but Juraed seemed oblivious to his faux-pas. The promontory grew silent. Through strained ears, Dryag could scarce hear those near him breath.
Screeches and flutters broke the bated silence as a cloud of bats burst out from a cave above and swarmed over those on the promontory. Instinctively Dryag crouched low to his mount, but Juraed whipped his head around to face the onrush and unleashed a gout of flame from his mouth and nostrils in a great bellow. "Spies of Taymor!" he spat. Red flames licked his lips, framing the outline of his head against the dusk sky as the charred remains of winged creatures crashed to the ground among the gathering.
Ducking reflexively, Dryag put his fingers to his lips creating a piercing whistle, and signalled to the sentries posted further up the mountainside. The nearest immediately unslung his dragon belcher and took aim at the leathery winged swarm. Moments later more fell to the ground as they were engulfed by yet another ball of flame. The swarm flew south over the pass, and Dryag once again straightened in his saddle. More bursts of flame and blue radiance erupted in the sky as other sentries began targeting the creatures, though Dryag doubted that his men would bring them all down.
"They'll know we're coming!" screamed Juraed.
Sehgdar's deep metallic laugh echoed across the pass, "Shall we kill all the vermin in this valley? Every bat, rat, and cur?"
Dryag pursed his lips as he glanced from Sehgdar to the erupting gnome. With a shrug of his shoulders he dismissed Juraed's outburst. "They may know we're coming... but now we know they'll be waiting for us. This changes nothing. Exarch, I think you should see to you troops." The promontory grew quiet again as Juraed steamed over being dismissed. With his jaw clenched tight he heeled his mount, leaping back down to the pass with his entourage in tow.
"I don't want personal vendetta to get in the way of our success," Dryag said to Sehgdar without missing a beat.
Hovering above the silver jawed dwarf, the two shades looked sidelong at one another as Sehgdar thoughtfully fingered his chin. "Don't worry general," rang his voice like someone speaking from within a narrow tunnel. "You'll have your victory. Khergyd will have her prize... and Juraed his glory." The two dwarves spent several silent seconds staring at each other until Sehgdar urged his mount on with a hollow laugh trailing behind him.
"And you, Sehgdar," Dryag sighed, "...what will you have?"