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contact. With a word eagerly uttered, glyphs appeared along his sword's tempered length,
giving way to white-hot flames. While not even close in power to the swords of the
Above, it was still more than most demons could withstand. Adramalik pulled his
battalion alongside that of Moloch and off to his left, a few hundred yards away, he could
just see that the general had lit his baton and was issuing commands, tightening the
formation. He held both Hooks in one massive hand, at the ready.
Looking far ahead between the two camps, the Chancellor General saw what appeared to
be a distant wall, low and long, and, he imagined, hastily thrown up. Behind it troops of
some kind could be seen scurrying back and forth. Even though they were faintly
illuminated by the suspended sheets of flame, he could not tell what kind of infantry they
would be meeting shortly.
Moloch cast out the command to pick up speed and suddenly, at his urging, Adramalik's
soul-steed was galloping, racing over the ground-skin in huge, bounding bursts.
Exhilarated, he watched as the distances between the armies rapidly closed. He could
now plainly see the small figures, cowering in fear, he was sure, behind the wall, and to
his complete astonishment he realized they were souls. By Abaddon's Pit, this is unheard
of! Bringing in dirty larvae to fight against demons! Directly behind them Adramalik
thought he could discern a motley array of legions, including a few composed of pike-
wielding demons most likely Sargatanas' phalangites. Is this all that he has brought to
face us? The battle with Astaroth and the occupation of his wards must have stretched his
resources more than I thought. The phalangites are tough veterans ... but souls? How
desperate is he?
As Adramalik and the speeding cavalry drew closer he began to see more and more
legions waiting in the wings. Distant and without any demon's sigil of possession, they
were concealed within summoned smoke, he imagined with some dismay, so as not to
alarm the onrushing forces of Moloch. Obscured by clouds in the far gloom, high above
Sargatanas' lines, Adramalik even thought he saw airborne troops, but he could not
discern their numbers. And suddenly it seemed to him as if the day might not be won so
handily.
* * * * *
With Metaphrax Argastos in command of his Flying Guard, circling overhead, Eligor felt
at some ease accompanying Sargatanas to the front. There Eligor's flyers would stay,
concealed in the clouds, ready to pounce if and when needed.
His eyes fell upon the dark shapes of Baron Faraii's Shock Troopers as they lumbered in
a purposeful, ominous wedge ahead, parting the massed legions by their mere presence
and making easy transit for his lord, Lord Valefar, and himself. The generals Demons
Major mostly followed behind, and Eligor examined them in all their occult martial
splendor, bedecked in their hardened armor and every manner of physical ornamentation.
He paid particular attention to Lords Bifrons and Andromalius and finally to Lord Furcas,
who hung closely by Sargatanas, looking concerned and somewhat uncertain. Eligor had
not been privy to all of the intricacies of his lord's plans but had enough of an awareness
of the broad strokes to know the importance of the corpulent demon's role.
Arriving at the front and protected by the Baron's iron-eyed forces, the general staff saw
the growing line of Moloch's cavalry begin its advance, gathering speed in the distance.
Above them tiny sigils flared to life and command-glyphs began to dart from officers to
soldiers. As they passed silently along the length of the bordering walls of flame they
caught the light in such a way, Eligor noted, as to make them look like a glowing,
onrushing flow of lava an illusion enhanced by the vaporous cloud of steam that trailed
off them. It was an amazing spectacle and he decided that if he survived this battle, he
would write down his impressions back in his chambers in Adamantinarx. Just to
remember the day eons hence.
Eligor's gaze moved down to the few hundred small figures crouched behind the newly
erected wall. None had a weapon in hand, and because of this he imagined that their
nervous tension regarding the onrushing cavalry must have been extreme. Yet they held
still, each one a soul-centurion, each one awaiting the proper moment when he would be
called upon to issue their all-important orders. That moment was not far off, the Captain
reflected, as he just began to hear the rumble of footfalls across the plain. His keen eyes,
the eyes of a flying demon, picked out the many scarlet-clad figures that he knew, from
his trips to Dis, to be Knights of the Fly. And then his eyes fell upon the general at the
head of the flowing carpet of cavalry. Reflexively, Eligor tightened his grip upon his
lance.
* * * * *
A roar of raw hatred shattered the air, easily audible to all in the front ranks of the
charging cavalry. Eager for battle, Moloch gave voice as he slowly drew ahead upon his
leaping Melding. Adramalik saw long streamers of flame trailing from his head and saw,
too, that his field-baton was no longer in his hand; the commands were already firmly in
place. Instead he rode with both arms extended outward at his sides, the two Hooks
twirling in his hands; he would welcome his enemy with an embrace of shearing
oblivion.
Reluctantly acknowledging the general's charisma, Adramalik began to feel the battle-
ecstasy warm his own body, urging him to put the spurs to his charger. The battlefield
around him became a blurred hurricane of sound and movement and fire with only the
enemy ahead standing out in the sharpest detail. He focused on the olive-brown wall that
now, oddly, appeared taller than he had first thought, but, undaunted, he galloped on.
The soul-steeds were howling wildly, a sound designed to wither the resolve of any
enemy foolish enough to stand their ground. With a final rush, the cavalry closed the gap
to the wall, and Adramalik saw an unusual and brilliant glyph flash upward from just
behind Sargatanas' front lines and thought, peripherally, that it was issued by either a
Lord Bifrons or Furcas. Splitting, its duplicates dropped like stones into the small souls
and impacted with a roar atop the wall. To Adramalik's amazement, the wall rippled,
began to geyser wisps of flame, and suddenly hundreds upon hundreds of arms extended
from along its length. An instant later the upstretched hands of souls and bricks alike
came alive with the glow of some kind of glyph-glove from which then blossomed what
looked like fiery javelins. Adramalik could almost feel the collective disbelief of his
fellow riders, a momentary wave of hesitation more imagined than real to which it
was too late to pay attention. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]