Whill of Agora

Roakore simply nodded and let out a growling laugh. Abram urged them to go as he peered over the ledge. “They are coming.”

The three started for the boulders they would use for cover. Abram chose a large one about sixty feet from the diamonds. It was nine feet tall and as wide as four men, with a large crevice on the side opposite the ambush site. Abram climbed atop the boulder and squatted within the crevice. It was perfect for his intentions: he could quickly bring his bow over the top, and had a better vantage point from there.

Roakore nodded his approval. “I think that Whill here should come with me. ’Twill be a more effective attack if a bowman was directly above ’em as well. It’ll confuse ’em.”

Though Whill did not like the idea, Abram agreed. From the boulder he put a hand on Whill’s shoulder. “Aim for the neck and eyes.”

Whill nodded and began to follow Roakore. They walked down the trail a few feet before Roakore began to climb the rock face. “Quickly, boy, so we are not seen!”

Whill scrambled to keep up. The dwarf, with his short legs and arms, surprised Whill by how well he scaled the steep rock face. They climbed fifty feet before coming to another ledge. Once on the ledge Whill peered over the side. He could now see the Draggard much better as they advanced up the trail. There were two scouts thirty feet ahead of the main pack. One advanced along the trail, while the other took a different route, continually veering from the trail and stopping often, snout in the air.

“Come,” said Roakore.

Whill followed him along the ledge to the boulders he had spoken of. Once again Whill peered cautiously over the ledge. They were directly above the diamonds. Roakore smacked his back. “Help me, laddie. Gather as many large rocks as ye can.” He walked over to a rock directly behind them. “This size is perfect.”

Whill regarded the rock in disbelief. It was three feet tall and three feet wide. “I cannot lift that rock!”

Roakore had found another of the same size. He regarded Whill with frustration. “Then roll the damned thing.” He squatted, took a deep breath, and lifted the giant rock onto his shoulder. He carried the rock over to the ledge. Whill was astonished. He had heard of the dwarves’ strength but was amazed nonetheless.

Not able to match Roakore’s strength, Whill got behind his rock and with great effort began to roll it to the ledge. By the time he had rolled the massive rock to the desired spot, Roakore had gathered five more. The dwarf peered over the ledge. “Hurry, boy! Get another, they are almost upon us!”

Darkness was advancing quickly now. The sun would set completely in twenty minutes to their disadvantage. The Draggard could see excellently in the dark, a fact that unsettled Whill as he looked to the horizon. With great effort he retrieved another, smaller rock as Roakore gathered four more. They then took their place behind the pile of stone. To their left was a huge boulder, five feet high and four feet across. Roakore took two of the gathered rocks and placed them a short distance behind the boulder. He then wedged his feet against the rocks and leaned forward, placing his large hands on the boulder. In this way he intended to push the boulder over the ledge. Whill was again amazed.

“Will you need help with that?”

The dwarf laughed. “No, you just have that bow of yours ready and I’ll worry about the rocks.”

Peering over the ledge again, Whill could see Abram perched upon his boulder, his bow ready. He returned Whill’s gaze and Whill thought he saw him wink. Below and to the right he could see the Draggard scouts about thirty feet from the diamonds. The rest of the band followed thirty feet behind them. At this distance Whill could see that they wore no armor or clothes. They had no shields, either, only long, two-sided spears with long curved blades at each end.

The sun now met the horizon as it began to set. It was a brilliant array of red, orange, and purple that spread out like ghostly fingers throughout the thin clouds. Whether it was because it might be the last sunset he would ever see or not, Whill thought it was the most beautiful. He did not get to enjoy it long, however. The Draggard scouts had reached the diamonds. He watched as they peered at them, growling low and hissing violently. In the dying light their skin was dark green, with black markings covering their whole bodies. They had ears like an elf’s, though much longer. They stood about seven feet when fully erect, which was rarely. The two scouts seemed to favor a slightly bent posture. Their bodies were well defined and muscular, with thick scales covering all but the chest and belly. On their backs they had short, pointed horns protruding from their backbones. Their tails were as long as the Draggard were tall, with sharp points at the ends.

Suddenly the two scouts let out a horrible cry that made Whill’s blood curdle. He watched as the Draggard pack stopped, fell to all fours, and ascended the mountain trail with alarming speed. The scouts surveyed the land but seemed half-hearted in their search as they snarled and pushed each other, fighting for dominance of the diamond pile. Regardless of their careless visual search of the surrounding area, Whill backed away from the ledge slowly as Roakore got into position. Whill in turn silently strung an arrow. He could tell that the rest of the Draggard had reached the scouts-there were many snarls and growls now. Roakore waited as the noise grew. Whill imagined from the sound that they were fighting to take a look at the diamonds.

Sensing that it was time, he nodded to Roakore. The dwarf made a silent grimace as he pushed the boulder with all his might. At first it did not move. Roakore gave it more effort, and the boulder slowly began to roll. To Whill’s dismay, the movement sent small rocks and pebbles tumbling over the ledge. The noises below stopped. Roakore pushed the boulder with all his might and sent it tumbling violently over the ledge. Whill took the opportunity to bring his bow around and aimed over the ledge.

He saw a horrific sight. Twenty Draggard stood in a circle below, looking up at them. As the boulder descended, many of them let out ear-piercing cries. Whill let loose an arrow before the boulder dropped, hitting one Draggard in the mouth. The arrow disappeared down the beast’s throat as it flailed violently. Many of the beasts scrambled out of the way of the boulder, but five were not so lucky. The boulder came down with bone- shattering force upon the Draggard, and was quickly followed by a huge rock hurtled by Roakore. The rock found its mark, slamming hard into the face of a howling Draggard. Abram simultaneously shot his own arrow, hitting one of the beasts in the throat. The Draggard were bewildered and scampered from the fallen boulder. Whill shot one in the eye as Roakore crushed the leg of another with one of his many large rocks. Abram shot repeatedly, killing two Draggard as they advanced in his direction. Many others began to ascend the rock face, coming straight at Whill and Roakore. They clawed violently at the rock. Whill shot the closest one in the forehead, but to his amazement the arrow was deflected by thick scales. The beast screamed insanely, baring hideous teeth. Roakore dropped a large rock. The creature tried to avoid it but was hit square in the chest. Whill had strung another arrow and this time aimed for the eyes. He hit another and it fell hard, landing on the boulder below in a dead heap.

Seven Draggard remained. Five ascended toward Whill and Roakore, while two advanced on Abram. Whill shot another through the eye; it fell with a loud thud on the ground below. Roakore had now abandoned the stones and grabbed his great axe. Whill followed suit and unsheathed his sword.

As the last audible note of Whill’s unsheathed sword reverberated in the air, the sun finally set, and the Draggard topped the ledge. Whill was scared, more scared than he had been when facing last year’s bear, the wolves, and the pirates. The Draggard were a nightmarish sight up close. They did not attack at once, they simply waited.

The dwarf let out a scream. “Come on, ye foul beasts!”

They did not move. Instead they let out cries of their own. The sound hurt Whill’s ears and his body shook. The beasts growled and hissed, spittle falling from their pointed teeth. They had stood side by side but now began to spread out. He could not take the anticipation. He searched himself for the strength he needed to face these fell creatures. They were the only thing standing in the way of all his answers. They were the scourge of the earth, a plague. They should not be feared, thought Whill. They should fear me!

From below Abram cried in pain and Whill was jolted into action. He lunged forward at the closest Draggard and was met with greater force. The beast swung its great spear, which Whill blocked with difficulty. Roakore took the opportunity to swing at the beast closest to himself. His great axe made a heavy whoosh as it cut through the air, missing its target. The two others joined in the attack. Whill blocked as both Draggard swung and stabbed at him with their spears. They were relentless, hissing violently as they advanced. Whill was slowly being pushed back, and he knew if they got him against the rock wall he would be doomed.

Roakore, meanwhile, was not being driven back. He screamed and growled as he blocked the Draggard attack with his heavy axe. Whill parried yet another blow and, finding an opening, sliced the leg of the beast to his