***
Thick smoke was rising over the hilltop as Balto approached the long incline leading up from Hamrock to the castle. Undaunted he pushed bravely forward toward the affray. He was still a way off when the sounds of battle first rang in his ears. What he saw as he approached was enough to make him want to turn tail and run for his life. Fire rained from the skies, bolts of purple shadow billowing out against the castle walls, and Tharon was eating the dead on the battlements. Balto pulled hard on his reins turning for one last look, terror gripping his heart. He took the portal ring from his saddlebag and threw it on the ground. He shook the contents of the small leather pouch onto the ring and the portal shimmered into being. Balto led his steaming mount, spittle dripping in thick globs from its mouth, through the portal into the main council chamber of the University of Elements.
Seeing Balto return so soon after departing from his quarters, Magnus closed his eyes and wept, knowing all was lost. Balto would not have chosen to appear in this manner lightly.
"My lord." Slipping down from his saddle he knelt at Magnus' side. "I got as far as the outskirts of Hamrock. The whole town is awash with goblins, and worse…" Magnus raised his head. "…the undead are among them."
"By the power of the Divines, this cannot be." Magnus turned to the remaining members of the Council. "Get back to your people, we are undone. The Reach and the castle are fallen, Hamrock also. We must all prepare ourselves for the inevitable. The undead and the goblins have joined forces. There is no telling what will happen next. We are trapped. Mor has no defense against the legions of Drakeshire. If they wish to, the undead could walk right into Mor and we would not be able to resist them. Raise the alarm. Pull everyone out of Meregith. Close all portals into Mor. The hopes of all Alzear depend on us. Whatever happens we must hold the city as a symbol of hope to the people. If the city falls, then all hope for Mor is lost."
"Magnus," H'rat stood to speak. "Are you not over-dramatizing this incursion? It is only a bridge and one small castle. It is hardly the end of Alzear. The Divines would never permit such an atrocity to occur."
"You miss the point H'rat, as always," Tralchar interrupted. "Castle Thraw is the training ground in advanced warfare. It is not like your summer home in Salzear. We know that the new goblin king is a warlock." Walking across to H'rat, Tralchar fixed him with a cold stare from his beady eyes. "Vargor."
H'rat slumped into his seat. "Ah."
"Indeed," Tralchar continued, leaning toward H'rat, "the exact, same Vargor that you were supposed to have killed. The very same Vargor who traded the wife of Arrborn for his own life. Wife with child I might add." Tralchar's voice took on a more threatening tone. "It could be said that you are directly responsible for this invasion. Vargor has no regard for the Mage Guild or anything human. It is quite evident that he has found a way to multiply goblins beyond counting. He has also found a way to give them mage powers. There are even some goblins that possess the gift of fire. Who knows how many warlocks he may have under his command? I am returning to my people When the horde come knocking on your door, H'rat, do not call upon the dwarves for help. You failed the covenant between us. The bond of brotherhood is broken." Tralchar turned to address the council. "Elders of the Council of Alzear, you are now one less!" Tralchar bowed politely to Magnus.
"You had better leave, H'rat. We have given you chance after chance, and you repeatedly fail us. You have done so for the last time," Magnus took three brass rings from the wall and gave them to H'rat. "Make your choice."
"This is outrageous," H'rat cried, thrusting the rings aside. "I will not be treated like some common criminal."
Tralchar tugged the axe eagerly from his belt. "The other choice is death," he announced, his blue eyes blazing as he stepped closer to H'rat. Licking his forefinger and thumb he ran them down the edge of the axe’s blade. "You are worse than a common criminal! You have let our enemy live, and given my sister-in-law to be a whore for a bane." His knuckles whitened as he tightened his grip around the hilt of his axe.
H'rat leapt from his chair, snatching a portal ring from Magnus as he vaulted over him. Slamming the ring on the ground under his foot, he turned to face them. "Damn you all and your cursed Divines."
H'rat ran through the portal, closely followed by Tralchar's whirling axe. As the portal closed behind him they heard and saw the battle raging within Castle Thraw
"And good riddance, too." Tralchar took a large iron mace from the wall and bludgeoned the portal ring until it was nothing more than a twisted mass of metal. "That'll put a stop to him. I'll not wait a minute longer. We must prepare for the worst. Without the castle, we have no hope of saving Meregith. We must do all we can. Ensure as many people as possible are evacuated. I will go and make arrangements in Grimlaw for the refugees. The Walk of Faith is their only hope, as neither the undead nor the goblins can make it through alive." Tralchar unhooked a silver portal ring from the wall and held it out in front of them all. "Take a hold and call your people out loud so they may pass through unharmed."
All of them grasped the ring speaking out the names of their people.
"The portal will open in the entrance to The Walk of Faith; all those who falter will seal their own fate. Until we meet again in Grimlaw." Raising his hand above his head Tralchar cried out, "Gomma." A gray-blue Talloran ram appeared beside him, looking slightly bewildered. Without another word, Tralchar mounted the ram and disappeared in the twinkling of an eye.
run
"What's up with that stupid reptile now," Royd said rubbing his forehead. "I'll turn you into slippers if..."
Sticking his head out of the window to yell some more at the skitterling who was cawing as loudly as possible in the paddock, Royd stared in disbelief at the billowing smoke pouring from the castle mount. He could see fire raining down from the sky as he listened to the distant sounds of battle.
"Ah," he growled, banging his head on the window frame. "Quickly, get everyone up and out of here. Those stinking goblins are attacking the castle."
He yanked the covers from the bed where Mika was laying.
"What?" Mika said, springing to her feet and grabbing the discarded clothes from the floor and cupboards where they had been thrown the night before.
"The castle is under attack. Don't stop for anything."
Royd pulled the bedroom door open but stumbling over his own boots, he tumbled head first down the stairs, his head thumping on the bare boards.
"If you're not careful, you'll kill yourself," Mika remarked stepping over a dazed Royd where he lay in an untidy heap at the foot of the stairs. "You can cry if you want to," she added before she ran outside.
Royd growled a response then, staggering to his feet, he stumbled out into the chaos.
They were not the only ones to have been roused by the skitterlings. Most of the brawlers had gathered together in the village and were now urging everyone into wagons and driving them out of the village.
"Get to Grimlaw; Meregith will not be safe," Royd said, pulling his shirt on over his head as Bolsover scooped him up onto his back.
"Royd," Mika cried, pointing to the hilltop outside the village where the first of the undead were running toward the inn.
"Everybody, go as you are, now run! Do not look back, the undead are upon us." Royd grabbed a small child screaming for his mother who had already left. "That's taking things a bit too far," he observed spurring Bolsover into motion.