Just as they were about to attack, a loud, eagle-like screech overhead prompted the glicks to look up, and they backed away from him, looking up at the figure in the sky. They no longer flicked their scales and stood down from their challenges at the sound of the screech.
Why aren't they coming at me? Do they have a master? Has he come here, to this place? Damn it, I can't see a thing with the sun in my eyes, he thought, looking up in the direction the screech came from.
The sun was now at its highest peak, and Bashir could only make out the silhouette of a winged creature in the sky. The beat of its wings created a strong breeze along the Pass, though there wasn't much dust being kicked up due to the blood-soaked ground.
As he flinched with the wind's increasing strength, he noticed many of the creatures had somehow been forced to stand still, as the crystals on their foreheads glowed with a more intense violet light.
Gorm watched the glicks around himself and Ari back away. "Was it the griffin that made them do that?" he asked his unlikely partner. "Not the griffin," Ari responded in shock, those being the only words he could say as he looked up.
The griffin perched itself on the highest peak in the pass, looking down on the mass of corpses. Gorm looked up at it, noticing a dark figure on its back that was holding one of the glowing crystals as it stepped off the griffin's back.
"It's him," Ari said breathlessly. "Him?" Gorm asked out of the corner of his mouth. "There were stories of one who resided in a dark citadel in the North. He must be the one who brought these monsters here," Ari continued, prompting Gorm to look up, though he could only just see the figure and the crystal.
"How are you so sure?" he asked. "Because glicks and trolls don't simply decide to work together of their own volition. It's not in their nature to do so. You, of all people, should know that, by now," Ari said, not bothering to hide the venom in his words. "I do," Gorm said, remembering his many years and everything he had learned during his time in the Guild.
The figure looked about at the devastation below. Bodies of both monsters and men strewn across the pass, motionless in the sodden earth. He raised the crystal and pushed a large amount of mana out from it, covering that section of the pass in a large dome of violet mana.
"You have fought hard and well," the rumbling voice said, his voice sounding like it was right next to each of the ones below. "I have seen your valor, and have proven yourselves worthy warriors," he spread his arms wide, making the rest of the warriors look toward him.
"I now offer you a choice: Join me, and we shall take over the four countries of the Continent together. In addition, your loved ones and families will be spared. Otherwise, you will die where you stand. Honorable, but foolish nonetheless," he said, glaring down at them imperiously.
"Who are you to ask us such a question?" Gorm asked with a snarl. "I am the one known as the Masked One. I am but a herald of my master and his power. If you think I hold great power, then that means you know nothing of what power truly is," he grinned beneath his mask, putting a hand across his chest and bowing.
"Again, I will ask: Will you ally yourselves with me and my horde, or will you suffer the consequences of your choices based on ignorance and folly?" the Masked One asked.
He commands these beasts through his own power alone, and his master is more powerful than he is? What could a handful of men do against such a force? Bashir thought as he looked at him.
Gorm and Ari now walked over to Bashir and stood by his side. "Should we believe him?" Ari asked as Bashir looked at the pair, unsure of what to say. "I don't like this one bit. All the years I've spent in the Guild have taught me never to trust one whose promises sound too good to be true. By Mideia, I'd sooner trust Ari than I would that mage," Gorm sighed, allowing his words to sink in. "We're dead men, either way, Gorm," Bashir began with a shake of his head.
"Our lives have long since revolved around cheating death in each and every moment. However, it would seem today Death itself has finally caught us red-handed. Our wives, our children, even us; we all come to the same fate in the end," he continued, turning to face them with a serious glare.
"It doesn't matter if we thought ourselves to be good men in life; all that matters is what we choose to do in the present. The past cannot be changed, that much is certain, but right now… Right now, we have a choice to make. Do we abandon our values, our honor, and our countries we've held so dearly, or do we uphold our honor and fight to the death?" he shifted his gaze between the pair of unlikely brothers in arms.
He walked over to the two bloodied warriors and put a hand on either of their shoulders. "We may have different opinions, beliefs, and other such matters. However, I must thank you two for being able to see past that, and work together as best you could," he nodded seriously, as Gorm's eyes widened.
"You have shown me that there is yet hope for this world, and that someday we may be able to work together in harmony once more," Bashir said, tears welling in his eyes.
"Gorm, I know you want to kill me, and I know Ari wishes to kill you. But I must ask the two of you to stand with me, in one final stand against this evil," Bashir bowed his head, confusing the two of them momentarily.
Gorm let the words stew for a moment before he gave a relenting sigh. "I'm going to regret this, aren't I? Well, I suppose if we're about to eat dirt, might as well do it the same way we came into this world; kicking, screaming, and covered in blood," he grinned. "So, you do have honor," Ari scoffed. "I might be an asshole, but I'm still a warrior," Gorm shrugged.
"One filled with honor to fight for what you believe in and the honor you uphold for your country, not only your inherently selfish desire to kill me. I praise you for that, Gorm," Ari said with a nod. "I will see you in the afterlife, Ari. I hope that we can finish this duel when we get there," Gorm said, growing a slight grin on his face. "I'm sure we will," Ari responded in a surprisingly kind tone.
The three of them looked up at the Masked One on his rock. "We will not bow to you, your power, or your promises," Bashir shouted up at him. "Fools," the Masked one said, keeping the dark sphere around them and commanding the remaining army to converge on them. The three drew their swords and charged together headlong into the fray.
The Masked One watched as they cut down the first few monsters that came at them. The large force soon overcame the three, and their bodies could not be seen amidst the chaos. He undid the dark sphere, not even bothering to watch the warriors' deaths, and placed the crystal in its socket on the saddle.
He mounted the griffin, the large wings kicking around small rocks beneath him as it took to the sky once more, the horde below following him down the far end of the pass toward Coltend Castle.
Bloodshed, destruction, and death were the only things they left in their wake as they went.
Once the Pass finally cleared, an unrecognizably bloodied man had managed to escape the massive horde, stumbling his way down the mountain. He went to the nearest town, where he procured the owner of what he recognized to be a horse stable.
"Somebody help!" the stablehand cried out, noticing the man was covered in slash-like cuts, blood pouring profusely from them. "Please, you must help him! He's going to die!" the boy shouted as he ran to the front door of a two-story house. "By the gods, boy, what happened?" Ahkmed asked urgently, swinging the front door open. "Sir, you have to help him! Look at him!" the boy cried out, pointing towards the newcomer.
Ahkmed looked at the man, noticing his bloodied state. "Shit. Boy, fetch a pail of clean water and some rags and bandages. Move quickly!" he commanded, rushing towards the man, who was too injured to stand any longer, and collapsed into the stable owner's arms.
"Hey! Hang in there! If you can speak, tell me your name and what happened," he said to the wounded man. "A horde of… creatures a-and… a dark mage… going to Coltend. Send… raven… to warn… Synners…" the man said weakly, coughing up some blood. "I will send the raven as soon as I get your wounds treated," Ahkmed nodded.
Nearly two hours had passed since the man had arrived at the town, and he was only just now finished being treated. After Ahkmed completed the man's treatment, he wrote the letter, even though his Common wasn't very legible.
"Sir, I have completed the letter, but I need your name to go along with it," he said gently. The man, covered in bloodied bandages, could hardly turn his head to look at Ahkmed.
"My name… is Gorm," he wheezed.