Chapter Twelve
Lisann was the first to hear the alarm, which made her spring into action. With bow in hand, she started to march up, followed closely by Erimas and Sunuva. A small contingent of Caryn soldiers emerged from the box, taking up arms and marching not far behind, ready to protect the trio ahead of them.
From above, all could hear shouts of the old mage Fael. The large group carefully picked their way up the stairs. Coming to a landing, Erimas held his hand up for the group to stop. The ever alert rogue listened carefully, for he heard sounds coming from the other end of the hallway to their right. He halfling reached into a pocket, fumbled with a trinket he carried, and disappeared. The others looked around warily, fearing that Fael had detected them.
Lisann felt a tug on her dress, just before she heard a whispering voice, “I am here, let me explore a bit, nothing will see me. Stay here on your guard,” Erimas bade her.
“We will,” came her quiet reply. Sunuva readied the catapult and his crossbow, now knowing the truth of it all.
“I hate when that little bugger does that without sayin',” the surly dwarf growled. The grunt beside him nodded his head in agreement.
Down the hallway, the halfling deactivated his invisibility enchantment, seeing clearly where the noises they heard were coming from. Wyrmwood gave a start when he saw Erimas suddenly appear in front of him.
“What're ye about, ye damned fool?” Wyrmwood belched.
“Couldn't stay back there, too vulnerable. Come, we'll all explore together. Thought Fael was on this level, heard him shouting.” Erimas then nodded to Tystyl, and tuned about, back toward his group.
“Wait,” came a voice behind them all. Everyone in the hallway showed their surprise as Kryzzl seemingly melted out of the wall. In truth, he had just knocked the wizard silly with a large book and then stepped out through the hidden doorway. “King Tystyl,” he bowed, “The dwarves of Jire are in danger outside. But first, you should see this.” He put his hand out, waving to the King to join him.
Tystyl gave a look to Adley, who was already casting a detection spell. Adley's eyes went wide, and his jaw nearly hit the floor at the realization of what Kryzzl truly was, but he quickly regained his composure, nodded to the king, and stepped through the hidden door. Erimas called down the hallway to the rest of the group to join him, and when all had arrived, they all stepped into the hidden room.
*******
The elves, seemingly every single one from the valley, poured out of the dimensional door in front of the dwarven army. Marching in lines of two, encircling the dwarves, the elves started to sing out a war chant. Bareet watched them curiously, for the war was already finished, now all they needed the elves for was to show them the magically hidden entrances to the tower. Horlarl glided over to Bareet to stand directly in front of the dwarf king, scowling. His once-empty eyes showing rage and fire that the dwarf had not seen in two centuries.
“What're ye about, elf?”
“It's over, Bareet,” Horlarl sneered. “For centuries I have watched you and your kin aligning with the damned humans. For centuries I have suffered, watching your reach grow further and further through this land. All your father and his father ever had to do was keep to one mountain, keep to one mine, keep supplying me with goods for trading. Your father did as he should have, your father's father made the agreement with us to begin with. You, however, you were not content. You had to go and dig deeper, dig further.”
Bareet set his feet, looked the elven king square in the eye, and said, “Me father was a fool, and me grandfather, rest his soul, only agreed with yer stupid rules 'cause he feared ye elves. He didn't think we were strong enough to defy ye. Meself, I know the truth of it all, that yer magic may be powerful, but the stone that we mine and the metal me kin shapes for ye, it all makes us stronger.” He gave a snort and continued, “If'n ye're wantin' open war, we'll be happy to fight ye, but here is not the place. Ye either come to me kingdom or I will come to yers. But King Tystyl be a good man, and a great king. He don't need me an' ye fightin' on his ground.” The dwarven king's blue beard bristled with growing anger.
With a dismissive wave of his slender hand, Horlarl turned and disappeared into the crowd of elves. A horn sounded, and suddenly thousands of arrows were in the air, closing in on the gathered dwarven army. A call came out, and every dwarf raised his shield to deflect the missiles. A split second later, the entire area exploding into battle.
*******
Fael lay in a crumbled heap on the floor, blood trickling from one ear, barely breathing. The old mage looked quite pitiful then, his once glorious, color-shifting robe was now only a pale gray. His white hair was laying in a pool of blood from the open wound on the back of his head. “Allow me to introduce my true self,” came the words of Kryzzl as he was moving to stand in front of the group. He removed his jacket, unclasped his necklace, and sat on the floor with his legs crossed. He began to hum a soft and slow tune. As he finished his tune, red smoke began to rise and swirl all about him, then all about the room. Engulfed in the bright red smoke, the shadows of an enormous form began to take shape.
When the smoke had dissipated, the entire group in the room gasped as if of the same voice. A dragonkin! Kryzzl, this new unlikely ally and seemingly awkward human, now stood before them as a hulking dragonkin. His golden eyes looked out among the group, all were shocked at the revelation. The soldiers in the room all had their hands on weapons, but Tystyl immediately commanded them to be at ease, for he had seen the truth of it all. He knew this man, or had at least spoken to him. Here he looked at Kryzzl, at his scaly brown skin, his yellow reptilian eyes, his hulking chest. This had been the same creature that visited the king's dreams some months before, warning him of some of the coming events, informing Tystyl that the gods themselves would be part of this battle.
Adley swiftly worked his way in front of the group, checking Fael's vital signs. The old mage was still alive. Adley quickly bound the wizard with crystal chains. “He should be no problem now.”
Looking past Kryzzl, Lisann saw the crystal. She had worked with seeing crystals before, and moved to reactivate it, to attempt to get a view of the tumult they had heard outside. At her words, the crystal slowly began to pulsate and glow, the image becoming clearer as she went through several spells she had known.
Elves and dwarves were battling each other, with the fair folk winning. She could see the elves overwhelming dwarves, with more elves emerging from the portal constantly. “There's no way they can win, Tystyl. We need to get down there and close that portal,” she grimly said.
A voice came from the back of the room, a ragged, old voice. “I can close the portal,” Fael said weakly as he was regaining consciousness. Tystyl gave a scowl to Fael, then looked at the soldier standing beside the mage. The king raised and dropped his hand quickly, and the soldier complied with a club to the back of Fael's skull. The wizard was out again.
Adley reached into his pack, pulling out an orb made of marble. He looked at Tystyl and said, “I can get us out there right now, I will also close the portal.” Tystyl nodded, then turned to Wyrmwood, who had been standing beside him. Had been.
Following Lisann's gaze, Tystyl looked into the ball to see a blue-bearded dwarf crashing out of a side door of the tower, axe drawn and charging for the fight.