of the burning forest was all he could hear. Thankfully, it drowned out the dying and
painful screams of lives burning away.
Tyler let the fire burn. He didn’t know how to stop it. Those that were in the clearing
and escaped the fire didn’t escape the arrows of the Jorund and Habrok. He hoped the
fire break he made near the stream would not let the fire spread. Otherwise, if a forest
spirit did guard this part of the woods, then he’ll have another enemy for life. Again.
Watching the fire, he thought he had time to check the progress of the main host
marching towards Scarburg. He left to go up the trail after informing Jorund of his plan.
That’s when after assessing the enemy host, he heard the sounds of another attack.
Moving to the vantage point used by his companions as a watch post, he saw that the
fire had almost died down. Only isolated burning trees remained of the inferno he
created. The forest was a blackened shell of its former self. But the cloying sweetish
smell of burnt flesh, mixed with ash, assaulted his nostrils even as he saw another
group of foes running towards the low cliff. This time they carried small trees. They
appeared to be ogres. Probably late-comers to the party, he thought. But they looked
formidable. Even with the barest amount of crude armor, only a few had fallen though
the arrows of Jorund and Habrok festooned the moving monsters. He estimated around
thirty approaching the low cliff.
Clutching the staff, he stood up and prepared to launch a lightning spell. As he aimed
and cast the spell, he let go of his control, intending to let the bolt have the most effect he can get out of it. The bolt hit the leading ogre but his letting go of control resulted
instead of a lightning bolt with a widely dispersed area of effect.
The ogre disintegrated and another ogre following him had his leg cut off after being
caught in the dispersed beam. The mortally injured ogre's scream of pain reverberated
through the forest. It was a strange sound, a long and deep guttural scratchy cry. The
loud death throes of the now fallen monster gave momentary pause to its companions.
Blood gushed from the severed stump.
With that, he changed tactics and flung aimed lightning bolts one after the other. Four
bolts. Three ogres. He missed one. Shit.
He needed a different approach. Casting fireball spells will only have the same effect as
the lightning bolts. A fire like what he did with the first attackers would probably be
shrugged away by the beasts unless he can get it to stick to them. But with their
resistance and extraordinary resilience, it would take time. That left the blade ability but he could only manage five arrow-size blades as targeted projectiles. Small projectiles
might not work on them. He shifted to two large spearhead-sized projectiles and let
loose. Two down. Another cast. One hit. His control over the blades still needed
practice. The two bowmen had also managed to bring down two more. The enemy’s
casualties was piling up.
The breaking point of the ogres came suddenly. The ogres stopped and started to
backtrack. When Tyler saw this, he formed the biggest fireball between three ogres and
ignited it. The deafening explosion that resulted clinched it for the rest. They turned tail and ran.
Tyler sat down. He was really, really tired. And his conscience bothered him. He may
have been as brutal as he could be.
CHAPTER LORE:
Fascine – A bundle of wood or other material used to cover gaps and ditches.
Forad – Old Norse. Meaning “monster.”
CHAPTER XIV
Cry Havoc!
He sat for a while, trying to get a grip on himself. His staff was on the ground beside
him. He looked at his hands. They were trembling badly. His leg muscles were shaking.
With the immediate danger over, the enormity of what he had done slowly sank into
him.
Killed dokkalfr with magical blades, burned a host of jotnar and dokkalfr without mercy,
turned giants into exploding chunks of flesh.
It was surreal. But those acts will pale in comparison to what he was expected to do
next. Turn an entire battlefield into a meat grinder.
As if I know how to do that. Even if I find the nerve to do it.
He cast a quick healing spell on himself to ward off the exhaustion. He didn’t want to
add it to his concerns. He closed his eyes for a while and took several deep breaths,
desperately trying to calm himself. It cleared his mind but not his conscience. He stood
up and called out for Jorund and Habrok. He hoped they could hear him so he won’t
need to go down the trail. He didn’t have the courage yet to gaze upon his gruesome
handiwork up close. Shortly, the two came up the trail. He noticed they brought their
makeshift shields with them. Some arrows were stuck in them. He hurried to them to
give instructions.
“Jorund, block the trail. We will make our stand here if anything tries to attack again.
When you finish, watch my back as I will be upon the ledge. I don’t want flying
whatever attacking me from behind. But keep your bow with you. Take cover and try to
kill anything that comes near. You get to guard our back and watch the trail. Any swords on that gear we got, plant them on the clearing, point up. Better they serve
some purpose. Habrok, when I get to a position on the ledge, cover me with one of
your tarps and some small branches. Try to improve the ledge cover and protection if
you can. When finished, stay at my leftmost side. Among those trees. Try to guard me
against attacks. There are ice drakes out there. MOVE!”
Jorund moved back to the trail. Habrok went with him to the ledge. While crouching,
the ranger pointed out the best position for Tyler and went back to the cabin to get the
tarp. Tyler asked for Habrok to bring him some food and a waterskin too. He crawled to
the recommended vantage point. He could see the host nearer now. If it wasn’t for the
fact that
