AC 2021 - Final - Storm Veritas

[Storm Veritas]

With the cold winds blowing in his face, the wizard had made it nearly three miles from the dwarven encampment before the first volley of projectile fire landed some twenty feet behind him, shattering the hard crust of the Tular Plains like ice on a pond, broken by a falling tree. Hard shards of rocky earth zipped about him, a deafening boom clouding his train of thought as he tried to run from certain death.

I suppose diplomacy wasn’t much of an option. These dwarves didn’t seem to have much an appetite for compromise. Little bastards.

Indeed, the dwarves had offered Storm Veritas and Elite Optic an incredible opportunity. Storm was to be the power behind a device that afforded Elite the ability to command demons. The dwarves had planned to no doubt use this magnificent power to harvest demons from the newly opened gate, driving them south to Etherea, Ettermire, and overwhelm Alerar. Once and for all, the dwarves would use the demons as pawns to overwhelm the elves of Alerar, killing them all and freeing the dwarves of this rivalry once and for all.

They hadn’t expanded on what happened following that coup, but the electromancer surmised it included disposing of their “guests”, as ruling all of Alerar would require a minimization of witnesses. Demons wouldn’t comply forever, so it was likely they would be eliminated following the great elven genocide. Storm considered it wildly unlikely that either he or the great Skeleton would be of value to the dwarves without the demons to command. He had whispered his plans to Sorian (Elite’s familiar) as the evening wound down. After a feast, Storm had taken his horse and broke south in the dead of night, guided only by starlight and the wisdom of several tall glasses of dwarven ale. He was alone now, as Sorian and Elite had forged an eastern path from the gates.

“Ride! Ride! Hyah! Pound those hooves, you dumb shit, or I’m toast and you’re glue!” Storm had his knives at his hips and satchel over his shoulder as he tucked tight to the great auburn steed, lilting to the right haunch to vomit as the brave horse drove hard into the darkness. They shifted from a jog to a hard run, the horse seemingly uninjured by the nearby impact.

Could have been just as convincing without two or six fewer drinks, stupid. Focus. Drive.

There were several large explosions behind him again, although now the catapults seemed to be striking further back. The cold air and sheer terror had a terrific sobering effect on the magician, who strained over his shoulder to see the silhouette of the chasing army behind him. How many of the dwarves had woken and given chase? He heard the trumpets sound as he mounted his horse; he was likely out of camp before anyone save the lookouts were rolling from bed. He had no real idea what time it actually was; somewhere near two hours after the last of the revelers had packed in. Two AM? Four?

Doesn’t much matter. If they rolled the catapults out, this is no simple scout chase. They are coming full force now.

A few more minutes and he allowed the horse to break to a trot. The explosions were some ways behind them now; it appeared he has stolen a quick ride. In the darkness, the dwarves would push ahead carefully, pushing him south to the gate and certain death. Storm Veritas had other plans.

In his original journey north, he had used a dust storm multiple times to hide himself and his small band. The iron-rich soil served delightfully well for his abilities, and he could create enough mobility and charge amongst the grains of earth to leave them suspended for quite a while, obscuring from the stupid demons that had kept wide of his supernatural clouds. Here, he conjured a cloud, a small offering that looked as though it could obscure him. Rather than charging forward, he used the constellations above, focusing on the great dragon in the stars to point westward, buying him some time and allowing his horse to rest a few moments. The hard packed earth wouldn’t carry hoofprints in the winds he had conjured; this ruse would likely bring a respite from the charging army behind him.

“Not much time, boy. We’ve got five minute before they reach here, so we’ve got to keep moving. Rest those legs a moment, we’ll taste some water, and we’ll pull them south.”

To the south lay the demon gate. They had skirted around it to the east on their original sojourn; now there would be no escaping. The demons had been spreading for a few days now, and the scouting parties he had seen at first were no more. Since they weren’t moving north, the ocean lay west, and to the east lay only mountains, there was no doubt in Storm’s mind that the demons were moving south (or southeast). They’d be moving to the ports, where the wizard’s ship lay. They’d be marching to cities, to kill and destroy and overtake.

Would have been a hell of a lot easier to just have them on your side, stupid.

He smiled in spite of himself as he continued to ride, feeling the brave, speedy little horse beneath him steel himself and trot forward with the confidence only a truly stupid beast could enjoy right now. Fortunately for the courageous little stallion, he had no idea the suicidal plan Storm Veritas had mapped out for the two of them.