Chapter 463: Chapter 460: Hollow Shade Docks Part 1

Chapter 460: Hollow Shade Docks Part 1

 

  …1 hour before dusk…

 

  The sun was beginning to set over the western horizon though there were still several dozens of ships moored at the docks. Sailors covered in sweat carried crates and goods wrapped in netting up ramps and onto the decks of ships. 

  The process of evacuation had taken days. Most proprietors at the docks, such as tavern masters and brothel owners, had already gone into the city, taking their people and merchandise with them. But the merchants who had stored countless goods in the warehouse docks were not so lucky. If they didn’t wish to leave behind most of their fortune to the valley tribes, then they had to cram as much of their wares onto their ships as possible. And that is exactly what they did.

  Despite the extra coin, many sailors had refused to work so many extra hours and had simply left on other ships, or gone into the city, even if it meant losing their jobs. Which made the job of the sailors who remained that much harder, and to the chagrin of the merchants, that much slower too.

  The merchant Bizun, a man who dealt with fine art ceramics, the likes of which were seen in the homes of lords, watched over his sailors toiling away, from the comforts of his chair. He was outside at the edge of the dock ramp, refusing to leave the oversight of the transfer of his goods to anyone else. A servant had brought him a large cushioned chair and stood by him, in case he needed anything else. Which he always did.

  “What’s taking them so long? Lazy bastards,” Bizun muttered angrily. 

  The sailors had been toiling away all day and still, they hadn’t even moved the largest vases onto his three ships. It usually took 3 men to carry the 2 meter-tall vases, but after almost half his sailors had quit yesterday, the sailors were forced to carry the vases with only two men a piece.

  His men had sworn they were the hardest working sailors in Dusk Valley, and yet here they were, moving at a snail's pace. And so Bizun was forced to oversee them all day under the summer sun. The cool winds of the river had done little to cool him off. Thankfully the sun was setting, but his body still felt like it was melting.

  Bizun leaned back in his chair and wiped the sweat off his brow with his pudgy hands. “I need a drink.”

  “Would you like beer or wine this time?” the servant beside him asked without missing a beat.

  Bizun glanced up at the young woman; she didn’t have a particularly pretty face to look at, but at least someone in his staff was happy to serve. He would have to make an effort to learn her name at some point.

  “Wine. There should still be some in my carriage,” he said.

  “As you wish, Mister Bizun,” she bowed and walked off.

  “And hurry it up!” he called out for good measure.

  A sudden scream behind him caught his attention. Bizun leaned over and glanced behind him. His servant’s mouth was agape and she pointed at something with a trembling hand. At the river’s shore, something strange was happening. The water was rippling upwards in a curve-like pattern, forming a watery tunnel into the river.

  No, not into the river, out from the river. A strange humanoid, with hairless grey skin, taller than any man Bizun had ever seen, stood at the mouth of the tunnel, his long hands pushing outwards as if he was forcing the tunnel open. The stranger’s neck was half a meter long and his eyes were black orbs, save for his milky white irises, there were no pupils. 

  The axlean slowly turned his neck towards the docks. “Attack,” Grim said in a quiet, certain tone.

  Behind him, tens and tens of centaurs rushed out of the river tunnel and onto the shore. Atop their backs were valley warriors, their faces covered in skull masks, created from the heads of fallen foes.

  “WE’RE UNDER ATTACK!” a sailor screamed from the top of his lungs.

  A skull warrior hefted a javelin and lunged it with swift finesse straight into the sailor’s chest, sending him careening into the water.

  The docks broke into a panicked frenzy as sailors ran for their lives. The centaurs chased after them and attacked with large spiked maces. The sharp spikes sunk into the sailors’ backs with a wet crunch. The sailors scrambled over one another to escape. The ones that tripped and fell were crushed under the centaurs’ hooves. The sailors that managed to pull ahead from the others were struck down with arrows of javelins from the skull warriors.

  The war cries of the enemy mixed with the screams of the dying. Bizun hid under the bar from a nearby vacant tavern as the screams worsened. He closed his eyes and held his trembling hands tightly as he prayed to the gods for salvation.

  The tavern door suddenly swung open with an eerie creek. Bizun’s eyes snapped wide open and he stiffened with terror.

  “Aw, the ale casks are all gone!” Kyriil groaned from the doorway.

  Bizun didn’t recognize the strange accent, confirming his worst fears.

  The elf waltzed into the tavern mumbling to himself in an unfamiliar language. He was about to turn and leave when he spotted a few bottles of spirits that had been left behind in a hurry when the owner had evacuated. 

  “Ooh! Thank the Ivorian gods!” Kyriil hopped over the bar and grabbed a couple of bottles, one in each hand. He furrowed his brow as he read the seals on the glass bottles. “Ebonian wine, is it? What the fuck is that supposed to mean? All wine here is from the Ebon Realm. Fucking idiots. Huh…?” He glanced down and spotted Bizun crouched below the bar.

  Bizun looked up in pale terror.

  Kyriil smirked maliciously, “Well, hello, fat man.”

 

~~~

 

  Bizun screamed for mercy as the skull-masked elf dragged him out of the tavern. The town square was bathed in blood. Corpses of sailors, servants, and merchants alike were strewn across the road. In the distance, Bizun could see some of his fellow people running from the centaurs, only to be cut down in moments. In the distance, he could hear even more terrified voices. Yet, none of it registered in his mind.

  “Mercy, please, mercy!” Bizun screamed and flailed about.

  Kyriil tossed him on the ground at Grim’s feet. “I found this rat hiding away like a rat in that tavern.”

  The axlean glanced at Bizun then back at his companion, “I see you found some wine as well, hm?”

  “What? I got thirsty,” Kyriil shrugged.

  “We aren’t here to play,” Grim admonished.

  “Fine. I’ll save the drinks for later.” Kyriil kicked Bizun on his side, “Get up, fat man.”

  The merchant groaned in pain and fell over from the kick. “Please, have mercy, I beg of you,” he mumbled tearfully.

  “I have money, lots of money. You can have it all, just please, spare me!” Bizun cried.

  Kyriil pulled off his skull mask and chuckled with delight. “Oh? Where is this treasure trove?” 

  “I have a lot of it back at the city, b-but I have a lot on my ships! You’re welcome to all of it!” Bizun stammered.

  A shriek echoed in the distance, but it was different from the rest. It was the dying shriek of a centaur. 

  Grim and the other warriors turned to the newfound sound of battle.

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  “What is that…?” Kyriil muttered.

  A small battalion of heavily armored centaurs burst into the street, galloping towards them. A rider held the banner of House Ashe, a silver eye on a white background, high in the air.

  Captain Kassian Ashe pointed his sword at Grim and roared, “Chaaarge!”

  The axlean swept his hand across the air. Water rose from the shore in a turbulent wave, crashing into the charging centaurs and sending them careening into a nearby building.

  Shadows erupted around the centaurs, forming a protective wall. Kassian stumbled to his feet, drenched in water and a few scrapes on his dark skin, but righteous anger burning in his scarlet eyes. His men stood up behind him, weapons at the ready. Their centaurs shook the water off themselves and readied to charge once more.

  “Took you all long enough,” Kyriil yawned exaggeratedly. Several small stars of light formed around him and shot out, burning into the wall of shadows.

  The shadows rippled and small tears began to appear across the wall, but just as quickly new strands of shadows formed and repaired the damage.

  “Oh?” Kyriil cocked his head to the side in surprise.

  “I thought Marek’s mage dogs had more bite than this,” Kassian growled.

  “Lord Kassian!” Bizun cried out in hope.

  “It seems your subjects believe in you,” Kyriil grinned wickedly. “Let’s see if the reputation lives up to the truth.” A sphere of white light spun into existence above Kyriil. The Lux Orb grew until it was a meter in diameter. “I do hope you enjoy the sun, vampire.”

  A pillar of scorching light exploded from the orb and burned through the wall of shadows. Yet as the shadows fell apart, new shadow threads molded around Kassian, forming a condensed Aegis of Shadows. The shield swirled in a mixture of black and white as the light continuously burned through and new shadow threads formed.

  Kyriil narrowed his eyes and poured more white mana into the Lux Orb. Yet the Aegis of Shadows held. The pillar of light weakened and grew smaller until it disappeared, leaving the orb hovering silently. 

  Kyriil smiled angrily. “Impressive.”

  Kassian breathed roughly and leaned on the pommel of his sword. The dark shield slowly dissipated in front of him. His men didn’t waste the chance and charged the skull warriors. 

  “Enough of this,” Grim said impatiently. Dozens of icy spears formed from the water on the ground and flew straight at the soldiers.

  Shadow tendrils rose from Kassian’s silhouette and met each spear in mid-air. Grim glared at the vampire and formed dozens of more spears. The Hollow Shade soldiers clashed with the skull warriors as shadow tendrils collided against the ice spears above their heads.

  The Lux Orb fired off several smaller rapid beams at Kassian. Deep shadows wrapped around him, absorbing the blows as Kassian faced off against the spears in the air. His shadows weakened with every moment and with trembling arms he finally collapsed to his knees, gasping for breath.

  “Lord Kassian!” Bizun yelled worriedly.

  As soon as the black magic disappeared, Grim summoned another tidal wave to push back the enemy soldiers, separating them from his own warriors.

  “I could have dealt with all of them by myself,” Kyriil complained light-heartedly. “It’s no fun teaming up on a single mage.”

  “You’d have struggled alone,” Grim noted.

  “But I would have won in the end,” Kyrill said. “It would have been fun, not that you know anything about that.”

  “We don’t have time to waste, elf. Enemy reinforcements will soon be swarming this place.” Grim raised his hands high up. A new round of ice spears crystallized above him and rained down on the soldiers.

  Dark shadows burst from the ground and caught each spear with deft precision.

  Grim and Kyriil glanced at the downed Kassian, confused.

  Kyriil frowned. “How did he…?”

  A pillar of fire splashed into the skull warriors. Grim and Kyriil jumped back in surprise as their men died with painful cries. Bizun crawled away as best he could, the sweltering heat singing the hair off his arms.

  As the flames died out, Grim spotted a group of soldiers through the smoke, and at their forefront two black-robed figures.

  Grim’s milky-white eyes widened in shock. “It cannot be…”

  “Fear not, dear citizens, Cornelius of the Great House of Rotrusk has arrived!” the dwarf shouted proudly. “Men, with me!”

  The soldiers behind the dwarf glanced at one another uncertainly and looked at their commander for instructions.

  “Help Lord Kassian and his men, and find whatever survivors you can and get them out of here. Leave these two to us,” Loh said with a stern tone.

  “Yes, my lady!” the soldiers nodded and ran off.

  “Save me first!” Bizun cried out.

  Cornelius rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck from side to side. And sauntered towards Grim and Kyriil with a swagger to his step. “Right, which of you bastards wants to die first, hm!?”

  “If it isn’t the Noir bitch herself. This just got interesting.” Kyriil smiled and stretched out his hand casually; a beam of light shot out from the Lux Orb and bore into Bizun, searing the flesh off his body as he died in agonizing screams. 

  “Eh…?” Cornelius stared at Bizun’s scorched body in dumbfounded surprise. The enemy wasn’t even glancing at him, their eyes were focused on the drow behind him.

  “It’s really you…” Grim muttered. “Elohnoir of the House of Noir.”

  Loh glanced at him and her eyes widened in recognition at the axlean’s strange appearance. “You… You both were at Mora Castle.”

  “You managed to best us the last time we met.” Grim’s lips curled, a crazed look of anger and happiness in his eyes. “I thank the Navigator for leading me to you. I finally have a chance to right the stain on my honor.”

  Loh fell into a warrior stance, flames curling around her fingers. “Is that right? This time you won’t have an arch-mage friend to save you.”

  Grim laughed darkly. “I assure you, this time you will find things— different.”

 

 

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