Joe pushed the last distance to the wall, far too close for comfort to the breach made by Havoc. That area was still uninhabited, and at first, he thought that it had just been out of either fear or respect for what Havoc had done. Then he noticed that Dwarves were dumping boulders from the elementals into the strange, colorless region, and the magical material was just… melting away.
Then a hand pushed up through the floor, and the colorless zone receded toward the center; not fully, just enough to be noticeable. The hand pushed on the floor, and a hulking golem pulled itself up and ran into the fort. Screams and insults soon followed, but they were too faint for Joe to understand. Captain Cleave studied the new creation and shook her head. “I truly wonder who authorized the weapons of mass destruction. I do not envy the Elves this chance to study a Grandmaster Golemancer’s work up close and personal.”
“You know what that is?” Joe glanced at the uncomfortable Dwarf, and her mustache quivered as she tried to provide the proper reply.
“Only what history has told me of this effect,” she slowly admitted. They had a few minutes until they were able to rejoin combat; a new hole had been made, and the fight was ongoing. Still, a foothold needed to be established before they could sweep through the space. “Major General Havoc was the first known Micro-Golemancer in Dwarven history. He studied what was once forbidden knowledge and learned to apply it to his own work. That ‘smoke’ is actually hundreds of thousands of golems too small for the eye to see.”
“He made nanites?” Jaxon enthusiastically chimed in. “How extraordinary! That was far away with science. Magic is just so… forward thinking! I’ll need to adjust my perspective!
“I know not what ‘nanites’ are.” The Dwarf shook her head. “So long as these golems have material, they will build up and deploy war golems over time. The better the materials provided, the more potent the war golem will become. It will take any material; do not let it touch you.”
“So…” Joe’s brow furrowed as he realized that he may have had a misunderstanding with the Dwarf when they were first discussing tactics to deploy against the Elves. “He didn’t unleash a spell on them that destroyed their vegetation?”
“No. He cast an area spell. The rest, as far as I know, came from applying his studies of a forbidden art and applying it to his craft as a golemancer. A ritual is something similar to what you did outside to give me this eye, so it was not that.” The Captain gestured at the back of her head.
“A lovely color, by the way.” Jaxon’s voice was filled with sincerity as he stared into her singular eye.
“If that was a ritual, then I can say with full certainty that he did not use a ritual even a single time. He had his golems eat everything in the material world, and then replicate themselves. Eventually they were more numerous than the grains of dirt in the plains of Jotunheim.” The Dwarf shuddered at the terrible image in her mind. “The havoc that he created by destroying hundreds of kilometers to defeat a few mere fortresses… his name, and the accompanying shame, has haunted him ever since.”
“Traitors… he shouted something about traitors. Did his troops turn against him at that time?” Joe recalled how Havoc had reacted when he first started this fight in the volcano.
“They did,” Captain Cleave nodded sadly. “It was their treachery that led to the death of Francine the Stabilizer deep in enemy territory. When he learned of her death and loss from the rolls, the Ledger of Souls, he vowed to trust no one ever again.”
Jaxon pushed for more when she remained silent for too long. “…And then?”
“Then? Then he never did. He holds no love for the Dwarven Oligarchy, but he needs their resources in order to wage his personal war against the Elven Theocracy.” Cleave shrugged, her armor jangling heavily. “I can only be glad that he is on our side, and I will be terrified if I need to stand in front of him on the field of battle.”
“Who was Francine to him?” Joe was suddenly desperate to know who this mystery figure was that held such a large portion of his mentor’s attention.
His question had to be ignored, for at that moment, the interior defenses were broken. The Legion drained into the opening, and Joe’s party was swept along with the tide. Once more, he was seeing familiar territory, though it was in much worse shape than the first time he had come through. The interior of the fort was burning, and most of the buildings at the edge were rubble. The merchants where he had window shopped, and the streets that he had walked, had only the barest resemblance to that which had once stood.
Huge footprints had torn the ground apart, and flashes of light still raged deeper within the fortress. The roaring of voices, clashing of weapons, and energetic detonation of spells dropped Joe’s mind into an almost fugue state, where the only thing that mattered was getting deeper into the fortress. They needed to capture this place to ensure the safety of the capital, as well as to be able to respawn or even grow their forces.
“To the Guardian!” A voice rose above the others, and the people not actively engaged in combat roared their approval. With every step, Joe trod upon fallen Dwarves, but even more Elves. He looked down at them, expecting to feel sorrow for the fallen, but even in death their faces were smug and seemed to be laughing at him. The combat moved along the shattered streets of the major fort, slowly closing in on the massive plant that nearly brushed the ceiling of the volcano.
Joe planned to go with them, to tear the plant out by the roots
