"...And upon the Wings of Storm..." - Part 4: First Assault

     Though the sun was many hours off yet, the night air seemed to grow
lighter. The winged shapes stood out from the sand better and seemed to glow
softly, though their bodies were blackest jet. They were wheeling in a wide
circle. Suddenly, a sharp note rang above the muffled roar of the ghost-
storm. It was high and clear: a challenging ring raised up against the black
citadel behind them. Torgath grimaced.
     "I can't see a thing in this hole. Let us stand in the sand above. The
storm's strength is held back by this ghostly one."
     He stood and began to crawl out, but K'tarin held his arm. Others voiced
agreement, however, and the Werre could not grab them all. Reluctantly, he
released the warrior and they both followed the rest to the lip of the cleft.
Everyone, so glad to be out of the rocky hole, fell silent at the view.
     Stretched before them was a flat plain, no bones or shattered helms in
sight, but a vast army of men and women stretched out upon the margin of the
great ridge that bounded the desert to the south. Tall were they, and their
armor shone bright in the torches and bonfires upon the ridge. Spears rose
above them as a thick forest of deadly points, and many pennants of red and
grey fluttered in a fitful wind. Standing a little apart and before the proud
army was a lone figure, tall and cloaked. He put a great curved horn to his
mouth and again blew. The sound rang across the desert and smote the walls
of the citadel.
     "That is Th'Sollar, the lord of the Werre, and our father," said
K'tarin. "He created us." He breathed deeply. "This is the last great battle
in the war between the Horned Council and us. On this night, a siege lasting
many months drew to an end."
     An answering call sprang from the towers of the black citadel. It was
low and terrible, resonating through the very stone on which the party
stood. Turning, they saw a different fortress. The walls were black, but
unmarred. No scars traced across their faces, and the towers were tall and
strong. Battlement upon battlement it rose up into the night. Watchfires
burned on the parapets.
     J'layah caught her breath when she lowered her eyes to the citadel's
base. There, arrayed in dark green plate, was a multitude of orcs and men
and larger shapes, more than enough to match the opposing army in number.
Spears and crooked swords were in their hands. A single banner hung above
them: black with a silver eye.
     "The Horned Council's army. Orcs were high in their service, and many
evil men. Giants, too, served in their armies. And above all--" The redguard
pointed up. "fly the denigroth. Beings no mortal could touch and live before
Th'Sollar found a way."
     Twilight looked keenly at the Werre. "The Werre were created to fight
the Denigroth." K'tarin grunted assent.
     For a long moment both armies stood unmoving. Then as one, the Werre
swarmed down the ridge, a great cry rising up as from a single terrible
voice.

     Alduin jumped to his feet, hitting his head against Balefire's cloak.
They had heard the horns, calling and answering. The warmage sat taught,
listening with his keen ears. He was trying to ignore the sage's fitful mood,
but the close quarters rendered his attempt futile.
     "Maybe it is one of the others calling for help."
     Balefire frowned. "No. I know of no horns in the party and most
certainly not any so great. That is a war-horn, large and long. The deeper
one is larger still."
     Alduin could not stay put any longer. He dove to the side and started
digging at the sand. The dark elf was momentarily taken aback by the vigor
of it, but quickly stayed the little man.
     "I do not think it wise to unbury us just yet. I am as curious as you,
but the storm has not let up. Listen to the wind! We must be buried deep,
for the sound is dim, but it is there."
     The sage looked ready to bite off the hand that held him, but soon
relented. A shameful smile crept to his lips.
     "Forgive me, but there is a tale out there no one has heard told. The
scribe in me sees staying in this shelter as a mortal sin."

     The Council's army stood firm while the Werre charged down the ridge.
Only when they had gained the plain did the dark army advance with awesome
speed. The ghost-storm gained force, staggering the advancing Werre, but
leaving the foul warriors untouched. From behind Th'Sollar's men came arrows,
alight with fire. The air sang with them, but most were turned back by the
wind. The dark army responded with fiery shafts of their own, and aided by
the storm, fell deep into the Werre ranks.
     "The denigroth were always accompanied by storm. Some say the storm and
they were one and the same. What you see before you was just a feign on the
Horned Council's part. That army of orcs and men was to engage our attention.
Once we were fully engaged with the enemy, the real power of the Council was
unleashed."

     "Balefire! Either you help me dig us out, or I'll get very angry."

     The armies collided. Metal rang and the voices rose into a confused
roar. The Council's arrows still fell among the warriors, cutting down those
on both sides, but more Werre than orc or giant. The orcs were in a frenzy,
cutting at anything that moved. The Werre held together and surrounded a
sizable portion of the dark forces. The ring closed and tightened until 
there were no more of the enemy standing.
     Then the tide turned, for that too had been a feign. The orcs had
allowed the men to cut through them and formed a greater ring about the
Werre. The men were soon fighting to get out.
     "This is horrible! I thought the Werre won," cried J'layah.
     Elfiran leaned toward her. "Aye lass. But this battle doesn't look over
yet."
     Indeed, the orcs again found themselves being attacked from without.
Upon their right and left flanks, fire exploded, throwing bodies into the
air. Confusion erupted and the circle of orcs began to disintegrate. Arrows
were falling among them, and great catapults now stood on the ridge, casting
burning stones into the fray.
     "I don't think tossing boulders into a mass of people is a sound way of
helping your side," commented Torgath.
     K'tarin gave him a look that would have withered a lesser man.

     The lean-to shook slightly. Then again. Something was pounding the
earth. Alduin had been eyeing the warmage for some time. The dark elf seemed
to be half asleep: his breathing was slow and relaxed. There was a chance.
Alduin again shoved his hand into the sand, but before he could begin to dig,
the imposing man's voice filled the tent.
     "You are determined..."
     "You can't stop me." Alduin knew full well he could.
     "...and I will help you. My curiosity is getting the better of me as
     well, and the sound of the wind has a strange quality about it."
     Together, they began to seek for the desert outside.

     The battle raged on for half an hour more before the orcs and giants
and evil men broke ranks and raced back to the safety of the citadel. The
Werre gave no quarter, and chased them down. The thirty-or-so denigroth in
the air had not entered the battle, instead flying lazy circles in the wind.
The Werre arrows were thrown back by the wind, and the spears could not
reach them. Th'Sollar had always remained upon the ridge, and now he again
blew his horn. Another army of Werre crested the ridge, though not as large
as the first army, and flowed down onto the plain with the lord at the head.
The catapults were also set in motion, and were let down the ridge by means
of ropes and horses.
     "And now it begins." K'tarin just nodded toward the citadel in answer
to the questioning looks.

     Balefire was the first out of the buried lean-to. If there was a storm
still raging above, he insisted on being the one to bear it. He blinked in
surprise. The storm was there, yet not there. He could see the sand being
blown past in torrential gusts, yet he felt nothing. Alduin was impatiently
pushing at his legs. Balefire smiled inwardly and let up the sage.
     The sage stood as dumbstuck as Balefire had a moment before. It was
like...
     "The ghost of a storm."
     Balefire looked about. "Indeed. It is here, but has no physical force.
What do you think of it?"
     He got no answer. He turned and saw a pale-faced Alduin staring off to
the side. The warmage turned and stood rooted as well.

     Not one orc, not one man or giant reached the gates of the Guardian
Citadel. As the Werre approached the gates, they opened in greeting. The
army slowed and stopped as a terrible screaming issued from the black portal.
     The denigroth in the air dove into the Werre, sowing momentary
confusion, for they had been in the sky for long, and the men below had
taken them as watchers. When the denigroth had dropped, there issued from
the gates more black beasts. Denigroth poured forth from the black fortress,
overwhelming the men.
     The second Werre force raced forward with redoubled speed, and the
catapults were pulled forward with haste. As soon as they were within range,
four of them fired and the great stones smote the citadel above the gates.
The denigroth continued to pour out, and the remaining three siege engines
tossed their missiles into the very gates. With a thunderous roar, the gates
collapsed and were sealed. Even so, the Werre were being pressed back while
the second force advanced.
     "The first battle with the orcs had weakened us greatly, and the first
thrust of the denigroth nearly finished our first army. Had it not been for
the captain of the catapults, the battle might have gone differently. He had
slowed the denigroth's advance and shut up half their force within the
black fortress." K'tarin's eyes had a fierce light and he spoke as if he
had been there.
     The first Werre army rushed into the second and the denigroth crashed
into their midst. The catapults had reloaded and again assaulted the
citadel, casting down towers and punching craters in its walls. For a time,
it seemed the Werre were easily overcoming the denigroth. The beasts had
pushed to the heart of the army in their might, and were now besieged and
dwindling.
     All that changed.

++++++++++++++++++
Alduin dor Lammoth