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Charge

  of the

  Loxodonts

  by

  David Barentine

  Published by David Barentine

  Copyright 2012 David Barentine

  Please visit https://www.wotps.com for cast, creature and location biographies, details and designs

  Table of Contents

  Remembrances of Rostheromi

  Charge of the Loxodonts

  About the Author

  Connect with the Author

  Other Books by the Author

  Remembrances of Rostheromi

  The thunder of the loxodonts enraged the gods, who did despise beasts of burden being used as weapons. The Warriors of the Purple Sun called to Tôgaru’kar and the Tither’rïan amazons called upon Réwen to punish the tribal nation of Rygem’dor. The two gods did converse, and in a union of war blessed their servants with strength to make the Thermotylus River flow early with the blood of Rygem’dor. By their decree, the Spartrakus Sea would be soiled red with the blood of heathens and no one would be able to name a slaughter more vicious than that visited upon Rygem’dor by their servants.

  -Héro’daetïus, Remembrances of Rostheromi

  Charge of the Loxodonts

  Thermotylus, a cove-like area on the shores of the Spartrakus Sea, lay flush against the peninsula of Korrand’s Finger and the rocky Crag. The sky burned red, casting shadows black as pitch into the narrow chasm dissecting the Thermotylus Crag along the bank of the Spartrakus Sea. Steep cliffs molded with sinewy veins of eroded rock towered above; the jagged plateau that overlooked the chasm, pitted by hot springs, poured forth steam that cast hazy rainbows over the twenty-yard width of the crevasse. A small river still flowed through the center of the eroded gorge, the remnant of the winter and spring rainfall that fed the Thermotylus River. Now the river barely sank deeper than an inch, evaporating completely in the hot summers. The gentle river flow hardly made a noise, the clear flow of water only splattering with sound when the hot springs around the chasm erupted and warm rain skittered across its surface.

  A new sound disturbed the silent riverbed, a splashing percussion of footfalls echoing against the high steep walls. Mud burst under their weight, burping trapped air and splashing onto the gleaming worn greaves of the soldiers marching down the gullet of the rainbow-covered dead riverbed. The unimaginable stepped through the chasm, row after row, shoulder to shoulder, bearing the honor guard flags of their homeland. At the front of the massive phalanx, the Warriors of the Purple Sun marched.

  The bronze armor of the Purple Sun warriors was burned to the point of color, turning once-fine glinting copper into sheets of purple-hued metal, overlaid with newer iron and silver plates. The silver was gilded both with purple-copper and niello, providing a black inlay lined with gleaming violet. The colors were a warning to the enemies of the Warriors of the Purple Sun, the single most defining aspect of their garb.

  Each of the warriors wore crafted bronze helmets resembling the revered steed, the lomogu. The lomogus resembled huge horned kangaroos which the Purple Sun would ordinarily ride. All that marked their influence were the helmets that each soldier wore. Comprised of four segments—the skullcap, the snout-like faceplate, and two round locking ovals of metal to cover the ears—the complexity of the craftsmanship was displayed on the massive, niello-inlaid silver horns, plain silver molded sheets at the crafted mouth, and the high vertical plume of lomogu hair rising like a fan from the center. This massive plume was often copied by the Warriors of the Purple Sun, many shaving the tops of their head to allow a towering central fan flanked by two tufts of hair on the sides of the skull.

  Behind the warriors, Tither’rïan amazons strode in line, bearing their fifteen-foot long spears in readiness for battle. Though their armor consisted more of various plates of bronze and iron riveted to hardened leather, several of the pieces of visible leather were formed over large flats of bronze and embossed with various Tither’rïan runes.

  These two armies joined in marching could scare their rivals in Asiér’rïan by sight alone, but to have the warriors of Rostheromi integrating several foot soldiers from those same Asiér’rïan city-states in their ranks spoke volumes of the day’s importance. Rostheromi and the city-states of Asiér’rïan were long-time rivals, but the imminent landfall of the Rygem’dor army inspired both to put aside the years of bloodshed for this day. Led by Jytor Lagnothor Calzarim, the small army rallied to the cause at the shores of Thermotylus Crag. Had they arrived in Rostheromi a week earlier, Lagnothor would not be here, having completed his business and returned home to Henopred long before word arrived of the Rygem’dor army approaching.

  Harpies and amazon a’tetheroks soared through the windswept chasm, sweeping over the throngs and casting shadows over the phalanx with clear calm. They glided to the cliffs and perched there in preparation, waiting to join their Purple Sun and Tither’rïan comrades in battle from above. Grabbing at the edges of the crevasse, the aerial warriors kept clear of the smaller Tither’rïan amazons running the length of the high, narrow cliffs of the Thermotylus River.

  Pairs of amazons raced down the length of the chasm and took their positions for battle: one the shield bearer, sitting in readiness and holding tightly to the square frame of the Purple Sun shield, while the second un-slung her bow and set her quiver on the rocky cliff to fire arrows from above.

  Kyrrest Tsfirfin, the reigning military leader of the Tither’rïan amazons, crouched at the lip of the chasm’s end. Setting the Purple Sun shield along her left side, Kyrrest peered out from the chasm far in advance of the phalanx. Her brown eyes looked left, along the sandy shores of the sea. Were this winter, the sea would be pressed against the Thermotylus Crag, but now the receding water unveiled a wide beach whereupon massive super ships—septiremes and triremes—intentionally ran aground to shore.

  The waves of the Spartrakus Sea hit hard on the sandy beaches and half-exposed rocks, breaking against the massive warships as each ran aground in the shoreline. The bronze-capped battering rams at their prows pressed the shore aside. Titanic ships carrying massive loads bore down upon the beachhead, mighty planks dropping from the bow. Their hulls were so wide and flat that the shallow waters of the Spartrakus Sea did nothing to hinder their voyage, even with the heavy cargo.

  Thundering calls shot out from the main decks of these massive ships. The impatience of the mighty loxodontus mounts wore thin. The mahouts of these loxodonts—the men in sole charge of training these elephant-like beasts of burden from birth—sat steady in their saddles on the animals’ short necks, one hand on the bridle, another on the bow of their saddle to support.

  The bull loxodonts resembled elephants, though far larger. Scutes ran the length of the animal like large plate armor, with three mighty horns sprouting from the crest of the skull and two tusks flanking the trunk. A continuous stretch of bone surrounded both eyes, lashing out like fingers, features prominently displayed on the Rygem’dor flags. This was their sacred animal, the bond that united the tribes of Rygem’dor under one ruler. Most leaders in Rygem’dor were not treated as well as the loxodonts.

  The scutes for the moment were covered by the loxodonts’ bard, the whole body-encasing armor already fitted upon the massive animals for immediate protection. The various pieces were all made of hardened leather reinforced with sheets of wicker armor. Only the shaffron of the head and the nasal guard were made of metal. The tower fitted to each loxodont’s back could easily seat five men comfortably within, but for the moment it sat empty. On the flanks, proud fine silk banners were displayed, each colorfully designed with the markings and identifications of the mahout’s tribe.

  “Get these beasts to the shore and off-load our cargo!” Nelledotor Grey
mic Halino barked. A methrian, the nelledotor would not stand for wasting time on the Thermotylus shore. He seemed appropriate for the amassed army of loxodonts, a mighty humanoid with thick, stocky arms and legs and an elephant-like head. Four massive tusks—three broken off at the Battle of Genlindal—spat from the flanks of his face, with two large horns breaking through the crest of his nose just in front of his forehead. Greymic’s methrian army from Atégantor solidified the backbone of this confederation of tribes, a mighty sight on the battlefield where towering methrian horns stood beside monolithic loxodont hides, all parading behind the porcupine-like spears of the phalanx this army would form.

  Barking out, the various loxodontus steeds stamped