The lead
griffon-rider's eyes widened. “What? Where are they?”
“We lost sight of
them some time back,” Garkhen replied, as Zakhin'Dakh began to
descend towards the city. “But given what we carry, I rather doubt
they have lost track of us.”
“Well why did you
bring it here, then?” The leader cried, expression
hardening.
“Better 'an in
th' hands of Chaos Mages,” Almonihah growled in reply. “What,
Mages' Guild didn't tell you?”
“The Mages' Guild
has had a... civil war of sorts,” the griffon-rider replied,
grimly. “And I rather suspect what you carry was the catalyst for
it. But if Chaos Mages seek what you bear, we are, at least, agreed
that they cannot have it. Come.” He turned his griffon about and
began flying towards the spires of the Mages' Guild.
Zakhin'Dakh
screeched tiredly and tried to follow, but his wings didn't seem to
want to work. Almonihah shouted, “We have t' land. Zakhin'Dakh
here's been flying flat-out for hours, no way he can make 't across
th' city now.”
“Then walk,”
the lead griffon-rider called back. “I will bring word ahead, that
we may begin to prepare our defenses.”
Zakhin'Dakh's wings
were exhausted, but his legs were not, nor were Almonihah's. Garkhen
rode on the big griffon's back as they made their way through
Midport, his shorter legs too much of a liability when haste was
needed. They saw others up and about, starting their day, though they
often spared a curious glance for the odd group as they passed by.
Almonihah kept glancing back, hoping he wouldn't see smoke rising at
the edge of the city.
Thus far, the
morning was quiet.
When they reached
the Mages' Guild, however, it was clear that things had not
been quiet overnight. Two of the guild's spires lay toppled, and
several others were scorched or otherwise damaged. The griffon-rider
from earlier was near the entrance, speaking with a robed man—the
head Archmage at the table when they had first arrived in town. His
expression was grave as the three friends approached.
“You survive,”
he noted, rather unnecessarily. “Good. Though I wish you did not
come trailing quite so many foes, given the obvious capabilities of
that Amulet, I prefer knowing it is in your hands rather than that of
the Chaos Mages. Unfortunately, I do not think we will have
sufficient time to discover the secret of its destruction before
those Madness-Touched reach us. And given our recent civil war, we
are ill-prepared to face them.”
“Civil war?”
Garkhen repeated. “What has happened here?”
“It would appear
that there were a number of Chaos Mages in our guild,” the Archmage
replied, the very calmness of his voice somehow speaking of his
anger. “Apparently they thought the time to reveal themselves was
upon them. Why Illusin helped you when he was one of them, I do not
know...”
“Because he
thought he was sending us t' our deaths,” Almonihah growled, eyes
narrowed. “Underestimated us. Was close, though. Still is close.”
“Indeed,” the
Archmage responded. “I fear you shall have little time to rest.
Already our wards in the mountains are alerting us to the approaching
horde. Given your involvement in this matter, I assume you shall go
to the front lines of our defense...?”
Garkhen nodded. “Of
course.”
The Archmage looked
over at the griffon-rider. “Good. Captain Theris here will instruct
you as to our preparations.”
The griffon-rider
nodded. “They're coming from all across the southeastern mountains.
How they're getting down the cliffs into the city, I don't know, but
I'd rather not find out. We're marshaling in the square in front of
Castle Midport. We've got some priests there who can do something for
your wounds and fatigue. Come!”
He mounted his
griffon and took off again, flying south. Zakhin'Dakh, still
exhausted, followed on the ground, Garkhen on his back, while
Almonihah jogged alongside.
The sun was fully
up by the time they arrived. The square was huge, but full of
activity. Zakhin'Dakh had never seen so many griffons in one place at
once! Even when he'd visited the griffon-riders' aerie, they'd been
scattered around too much for him to see many of them. But there was
no time for him to socialize, for Captain Theris, seeing the three
friends arrived, called for attention.
“Riders of
Midport! We face now perhaps our greatest threat—hordes of
Madness-Touched stream towards our city, and our mighty wizards are
too broken by their own battle to give us much aid. But we cannot
afford to let the monsters into Midport. And that is why they,” he
gestured at the two half-dragons and griffon, “Will be coming with
us. See that glowing pack? That's what all of the Madness-Touched are
after. They'll come to it, and we'll kill them as they come, or die.
I know which one of those I'd prefer, so you'd better not let me
down. Now, we ride!”
*******************************
I had to come up with another name. In other news, Captain Theris is perhaps not the best at rousing speeches.