Race Against Time

 His throat was parched, and a steady drumbeat pounded inside his head. He tried to open his dry, crusted eyes, but couldn’t make out any definite shape in the dim light of the room. He coughed as he tried to breathe deeply.

“Be still, my lord” came a voice from the darkness. It had a familiar, calming sound to it. A cup of water pressed against his lips, and he felt some vitality return to him as he drank.

Memories flooded back to Caeladan as he remembered the days wandering in the wilderness. After the ambush, he’d been forced to survive in the foothills of the mountains. Trying to avoid the human patrols, the vengeful farmers and the mercenary soldiers hoping to take captives for ransom.

He had made his way toward the coast under cover of night until he reached the barren lands near the sea. With no shelter from the sun, he had quickly begun to succumb to thirst and heatstroke. Even now, his sunburned skin ached against the blankets, reminding him of his ordeal.

Bel-Korath spoke again, recounting how they had found him. “Kolvaer sent word of your loss ahead as he marched out of the mountains. We brought reinforcements and provisions for a search. When we found you, I brought you to this village to treat your wounds. We have sent an eagle to Kolvaer’s company, they should be returning soon. When you are strong enough to travel, we shall make our way home. The ships are waiting for us on the coast, a day’s travel from here.”

“The gold?” asked the Prince, remembering the reason he had journeyed to this land in the first place.

“Safely aboard ship, my Lord, and on its way to Tor Calith as we speak.” Bel-Korath was somewhat dismissive of this quest for treasure, but he understood that the future of the East Araby colony still depended on financial support of the shareholders board. Prince Caeladan’s governorship only lasted as long as the fickle lords of Lothern believed they could make a profit from the venture. At least if Caeladan was thinking about such matters then he still retained his senses, Bel-Korath consoled himself.

A horn sounded outside. Kolvaer’s company returning, thought Bel-Korath to himself. But suddenly, a second blast from the horn raised the hairs the back of his neck. The signal for enemy sighted. As he looked up, the captain of the militia appeared in the doorway. “Naggarothi troops approaching, my Lord” he said.

“Kolvaer?” asked Bel-Korath. “No word yet” replied the captain, as he left the room.

“My sword…” muttered Caeladan, attempting to rise.

“Remain still, my Lord.” Instructed Bel-Korath. “You’re in no condition for battle. I will command our troops until Kolvaer returns.” With that, the high magician left the room before the prince could argue further.

If he returns in time, thought Caeladan as he lay down again.

 

The Dark Elf army seizes the heights overlooking the village



The outnumbered defenders prepare the defend the village, hoping that reinforcements arrive in time!



Bel-Korath leads the militia in defence of the village




The Dark Elves advance quickly, and the commander attacks the eagle.




The Dark Elf general feels like chicken tonight…



The Silver Helms charge the cowardly Dark Elf knights, who run away! But the trap is sprung and the High Elf knights find themselves attacked from all sides.



The Dark Elf general flunked a stupidity test and embarrassingly wandered off into the desert, unable to control his lizard.

 

The situation is getting dire for the High Elves



With the Silver Helms dispatched, the Dark Elves turn to mopping up

 

Reinforcements arrive! But Korvael’s swordmasters have a lot of Naggarothi to battle through and it doesn’t look good…

 

The shadow warriors manage to ambush a sorceress



The chariot comes under fire from shooting and magic



Dark Elf pirates finally manage to charge into the village, chopping through the High Elf militia



In an excellent display of marksmanship, the shadow warriors manage to shoot a cold one knight out of his saddle



The chariot charges the Dark Elf general…



…and gets smashed to bits!



Surrounded on all sides, Captain Kolvaer has no choice but to retreat

 

The corsairs storm the village, taking the wounded Prince Caeladan hostage


 

The sun beat down on Captain Kolvaer as he marched. He knew that his troops were as exhausted as he was, but none of them complained. The eagle had reached them with Bel-Korath’s message that he had found the prince, but they had been ambushed by a Naggarothi force.

That part had surprised Kolvaer, as he hadn’t known the Naggarothi were even aware of their presence here. Their spies must have been alerted to their expedition, which meant they probably knew about the dwarven gold too. Fortunately, the gold had been delivered to the ships already, but the Druchii could still capture Prince Caeladan if he couldn’t reach the village in time.

But as Kolvaer came around the edge of the cliff, his heart sank in despair. The Naggarothi were already surrounding the village, and their cavalry was barring his way. A Dark Elf noble riding one of the reptiles favoured by the elves of Naggaroth stood in the gap between the tall scrub and the cliffs.

Kolvaer hesitated. Before he could react, he saw the charioteers accompanying him seize the opportunity and charge the enemy commander. The elf manoeuvred his cold-blooded beast to one side, and wielding a glowing blade he smashed one of the wheels from the chariot so that it careened out of control, overturning on the uneven ground and spilling its crew into the dusty earth.

The battle was over, and as he retreated to save what was left of his force, Kolvaer vowed revenge.

Weary and dismayed, Caeladan disembarked the ship, home at last. Bel-Korath was standing on the quay to meet him.

“Welcome home, my Lord.” Caeladan nodded but said nothing, mainly out of resignation rather than malice. In truth his captors had not treated him badly, merely dismissively. It could have been much worse.

“What did it cost to secure my return?” the prince asked the mage.

Somewhat hesitantly, Bel-Korath replied “We had to surrender the dwarven gold, my Lord.”

Caeladan managed a weak laugh. “So it was cursed after all. The legends were true then” he said. Certainly, it had brought him nothing but ill fortune. Bel-Korath didn’t respond, but somehow his silence still managed to communicate ‘I told you so.’

“For better or worse, we must respond to the Naggarothi. The only recourse is war,” said the prince. Only the gods knew what the future held, but Caeladan was certain of one thing – it would be the last time he robbed any tombs.

For a while, anyway.

                         

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