were even stouter, like trunks of some great tree.
“I expected you’d find a way to weasel out of your twelve month of masonry,” he said to Odellius, although he kept his eyes on the reptiles that tried to reform with at least half their number dead or badly wounded. “Swords… up!” and sixty some odd blades rose into fighting position while shields locked.
“It’s nice to see you as well, Vipsanius,” said Odellius.
“At the double!” shouted the squat man and men started toward the few reptiles that managed to band together after the second sweep from the cavalry. The big leader of the group, a flagman at his side, shouted orders but their lines remained jagged and many of their foe looked at the horses, who swept around for another charge rather than at the swordsmen who rapidly approached. “Address me as First Rider if you please,” said the short man. “Keep in line there, Surantius,” he shouted as a young knight with an open hand symbol between his four horseshoes surged half a stride ahead. “Make a note, Odellius,” he continued, “how many of them watch the horses and how many watch us.”
“Yes, First Rider,” said Odellius as they moved to within ten yards of their massed foes. Some of the enemy noticed the foot soldiers, although at least half, if not more, watched the horsemen now completely wheeled and ready to charge forward again as they lowered their steel lances to chest height.
The horses moved aside at the last second and rolled past like a river split around some massive stone, but their movement captured the attention of most of the reptiles in the square and the First Rider’s group hit them a moment later at a full run. What few of the enemy put up a fight were quickly dispatched as their hide armor proved no match for the field plate of the knights and within a moment Odellius and the First Rider approached the heart of the enemy unit where the great captain and his personal guard awaited.
“A weak choice of armor,” said Vipsanius and thrust his blade under the arm of a reptile whose own overhand smash he easily deflected with a steel shield.
“They are from the swamps, unused to open plain fighting,” said Odellius and smashed a second of the beasts in the face with his own shield and then, as the creature reeled, chopped its left leg off at the knee.
“Now, then, that one seems better equipped,” said the First Rider, planting his steel tipped riding boot into the face of a downed reptile and crushing his mouth, as he pointed to the leader. “Shall we test his steel?”
Odellius nodded his head, “I’m afraid technically I’m still on civilian duties, First Rider, and he does seem quite fearsome,” he continued as the two advanced on the leader whose guard suddenly seemed to evaporate in the avalanche of steel. “But I’ll come along in case you get yourself in trouble and I have to save you… again.”
The two knights strode forward towards the heavily armored champion who turned to face them with a sneer on his face. He uttered something in a strange, guttural language, made a gesture with his sword even as the First Rider, who stood at least a foot and a half shorter than the massive creature darted forward and brought his sword up in a thrust that caught the big creature between the legs and drove into his body. Odellius, more on par height- wise with the creature, blocked a violent blow that caused his shield to ring and arm to go numb and fired off a level swing that neatly beheaded the creature whose shocked expression remained even while it rolled along the ground a moment later. After this, all resistance swiftly ended.
The two men stood for a moment and the First Rider looked to Odellius and shook his head sadly, “You tall fellows always go for the sweeping attacks. I’ve told you many times, my old friend, that it is easy to block such attacks, come in low, with a stabbing motion and your opponent must either dodge aside or be impaled.”
“I grant that for a half-hobgoblin, half-halfing midget like yourself such a tactic might prove effective from time to time but those of us who can see over the back end of a horse find an overhand strike has more power,” he replied and looked down at the First Rider, a large grin on his face.
“Ah, now with the racial insults,” replied the man and shook his head again with an equally broad grin across his square jaw. “At least my mother knew the identity of my father,” he finished as another of the well armored horsemen approached.
“That’s hardly fair,” said Odellius, “my mom had it narrowed down to three or four the last time I spoke with her.”
“First Rider,” said the man who wore steel armor with the symbol of four horseshoes around a clenched and bloody hand. “The enemy is defeated; the prisoners indicate that another group of them are holed up in the hills north of here.”
“Well done,” said Vipsanius with a nod. “Set a unit to take the prisoners back to Black Roost, allow them their personal possessions, but strip them of arms and armor.”
“Yes, First Rider,” said the soldier, clenching his fist, then turning to the other men, and beginning to bellow out orders.
“So Odellius,” said the squat man, “why are you out here chasing reptiles when you should be in Black Dale working on your masonry skills?”
“I apologize, First Rider,” said Odellius, scratching his mammoth belly with one meaty hand. “The mayor received your orders to mobilize after the reptiles landed.”
Vipsanius looked at Odellius through narrowed eyes for a moment and the coal black seemed to take on a hint of red. “I see,” he finally said and put his hand on his sword hilt. “And he ordered all men on civilian duty to arms?”
“Yes, First Rider,” said Odellius as he looked away toward where the knights organized the prisoners into lines in preparation for the long march to Black Roost.
“Most unfortunate,” said the First Rider with a shake of his head, although he also turned to gaze at the prisoners. “You and your men return to Black Dale and resume your twelve month,” he said. “I’ll get to the bottom of this incursion. The mayor is with you?”
“He joined us after a few days but died bravely yesterday when we first encountered the enemy,” said Odellius. “He led the first assault.”
The First Rider shook his head again, “This is most troubling my friend. There is something going on in the lands. I’ve known for several months now but I did not appreciate the gravity of the situation until this moment. Our own men influenced by this force, corrupted in some way.”
“There is another thing, First Rider,” said Odellius quietly as the two watched the organization continue apace. Most of the reptiles lined up tidily while armored horsemen maneuvered around them, their lances in an upright position.
“Go on, Odellius,” said the First Rider and turned to look up at the huge bellied mason.
“An emissary came to Black Dale shortly before the mayor sent us on this patrol,” continued Odellius quietly. “A man, a young man not much out of boyhood, named Jon Gray who claims he is the son of the Gray Lord of Tanelorn. He wanted to speak with you of an alliance.”
“I’ve had no word of such a thing,” said Vipsanius with a frown. “No messenger, nor my priest magically notified.”
“No, First Rider,” said Odellius. “Mayor Thorius thought the boy merely a drifter looking to steal or otherwise deceive you and refused to send a message.”
The First Rider nodded, “And what did you think of this young emissary?” he said and turned to face Odellius and look up at him.
“He’s no drifter,” said Odellius with a smile, remembering their tussle in the yard. “Perhaps he’s not what he claims but he is a lad to be reckoned with. I’ve heard of this Tanelorn, First Rider. They are a people not unlike our own and an alliance with them is something I would welcome. If their warriors are on par with the boy, then, at least, I would not want to be their enemies.”
“So,” said the First Rider, “you think it likely he is who he represents to be?”
“Yes, First Rider. I think it highly likely. I also think his presence here has something to do with the recent activities of the reptile creatures, of the… corruption of Mayor Thorius, and more.”
“Where is this boy now,” said the First Rider, “in Black Dale hoping that I’ll turn up?”
Odellius shook his head, “No, First Rider. He befriended the young brewer boy, the one who was sickly and untaken as a squire but who grew up well, Sorus Brewer. They headed into the hills with Sir Germanius. The old warrior hoped to end his life with some sort of glorious deed and seemed to trust the boy well enough.”
“Where were they headed?” asked the First Rider as his hand went to his square jaw.
“Into the Mountains of the Orc,” said Odellius, “I think…,” he started to continue but the First Rider immediately held up his hand.
“The Mountains of the Orc,” he repeated as his hand left his chin and his face turned towards the mountains
