The Battle Of Dok Karaz - Birth Of A Warrior
By: Morigana
It was a battle like none other that I remember, and at my young age, one that will live on with me in memory for many years. Maybe until death takes my soul and my lion weeps over my corpse knowing full well our souls are linked and he must join me on my spirit walk. Although that would not be why he sheds tears since the tears would be because his master has died and his claws and my blade would no longer rend the flesh from our enemies bones in the effort to free our lands. As he is laid to rest beside me on the funeral pyre he will walk gently with no other regret.
It was on March 19, that our forces were mustered by our leader, Dannan, an Arch Mage whose healing abilities are only outweighed by her tactical divinations. We were mustered just outside the dwarven war camp in Barak Var on the road to Dok Karaz. A keep of some contention and currently occupied by the forces of Destruction. Dannan had managed a call-to-arms of almost four full warbands of Elves, Dwarves, and humans to wage the assault and although we all thought we were ready there was no way we could have been prepared for what we found.
It was quite unfortuante for our war bands that their scouts must have seen our advance and hordes of enemies were pouring into the keep to establish defense just as we were pouring in to assault. It was like to great rivers crashing into each other - the force with which we met. Many of our brothers and sisters were slain on the way to the keep just as our blades and flames showed many of them the way to hell, as I am sure that this is their final resting place. Although I truly envision that they never find rest nor peace when they perish and are returned to the blackened soil from which they spawn.
I remember Zorah, my lion, growling in an uneasiness that is most uncommon to him as the seige of the keep commenced. As we struggled to take a foot hold within this place I soon understood why. The boiling oil - their catapults flinging noxious bombs - the flying axes - the death spells their magus cast all took too many brothers and sisters to meet their god - whichever god they prayed to. Our healers were doing their best and the warriors were unflinching in their devotion to the cause but our leader could soon tell that it was a going to be too costly a victory - if a victory was even to be found - if the current couse of action was maintained. The forces of Destruction were well entrenched within the keep and were suffering few, if any, casulaties.
She had the trumpets sound the retreat which no warrior with blood boiling in their veins and staining their blade wishes to hear. Yet, we followed her command and thus the retreat began. Their forces jeered at us and I am sure it was mocking profanity - that is if I could understand anything a green skin uttered and the keep door was left wide open; strewn with the bodies of our comrades and it glared at me like the black orbs those filthy orcs call eyes. It was like looking into the very soul of death and having it say, "This day death has won."
Then in a move that should be documented in the journals of great generals from ages gone by and taught in military academies from this day forward, Dannan commanded us to follow her. She began to charge like the very angel of death and lead us to the very path that the hordes of destruction take when they come to defend the keep from their war camp. Thusly we circled the keep away from the prying eyes of their scouts. The vision, or as some say - the premonition - that she had which would lead us to victory was coming to fruition. Once we completed circling the keep and our forces obscured by the terrain, the defenders came pouring outside to destroy a few brave souls that had remained behind to ensure the feint worked along with our abandoned seige equipment. This gave us the means to their end. This gave the vision - sight.
Those that had rushed out were caught totally unaware as we came charging in behind to take control of the keep doors and the ground floor. We cut off those that had rushed outside from the defenders that had remained up stairs in the Keep Lord's room. We dispatched those hellish souls that tried to make it back in and once organized, we charged up the ramp to the Lord's room. It was still full of Black Guards, Shaman, Magus and other vile creatures of Destruction, but following Dannan's sharp commands we were able to push by them and secure a strategic point on the balcony within the room. It was only then that I realized that although so many had already fallen that the battle was truly just beginning.
It may have only a been few minutes, maybe 10 - maybe 15, and it really doesn't matter. In my young warrior's heart and mind it seemed like an eternity. Our leader remained "spot on" the whole time and as if she was peering through my very eyes gave me orders that I saw clearly.
"Kill the magus!"
"Kill the shaman"
"Kill the Disciple"
All in turn they went down to the claws and teeth of Zorah and my throwing axe as well as the flames and blades of others. It really matters naught who killed whom - but as she spoke they died as if her very words brought them death.
"Now - charge the Lord!"
Moments later he died as well. After securing the perimeter the victory was finally ours. There were sighs of relief, cries of pain, and tears for the fallen but Dok Karaz was once again under Order's control.
We had many victories this night although none will be remembered as well as this one - at least by me. And once it was finally over and Zorah was licking his wounds and mine, I caught a glimpse of Dannan standing - a solitary figure - surveying the battlefield. Then she started walking. She knelt over each and every fallen comrade and said a brief prayer. It did not matter if they were human, dwarf, or elf it was the same for each; a sign of respect and reverence for each fallen hero. If I had had the strength left to shed tears, I would have wept like a baby as it emerges from it mother's womb since at this moment I felt I was born as a warrior.