Battle of the Blood Sea

Introduction

Inside are two perspectives of the Ganthian Battle of the Blood Sea from the older tomes of Ganth. Iolius.

Recount of the Battle of the Blood Sea

Emperor Kelel Gloran'di sat upon his throne remembering one of his battles against a black dragon on Tropica. "Emperor, the children are here to see you. "Please, send them in." Earlier that week an instructor had asked Kelel if he would speak to these children. They had worked very hard and just finished the beginner's circus training. He agreed, although he was unsure at the time what to tell them, but now he knew and would enjoy this. He rose from his throne to greet the children. "Come with me children, I wish to show you an important even from your past. " He lead them through the city to the Keep of Ganth. Inside he stood in the Hall of Minotaurs. Along both walls were murals painted for all the great battles of Ganth. The artistry on these paintings was amazing. The detail of the faces made them to appear alive. Kelel pointed to one specific mural.

"Tell me what is odd about this battle. " "There is an elf standing next to a dwarf. Why aren't they fighting? " "Very good. This is the Battle of the Blood Sea. It is the last great battle against dae'Tok and was Raije's most blessed day." Kelel walked up to the mural to examine it closely.

"Before this battle, dae'Tok had been an unstoppable juggernaught. They had destroyed Serpantol and caused both the dwarves and elves to lock themselves within their cities in terror. We knew that all of Algoron would be overrun if we did not act. We gathered together all of the elves and dwarves who had been abandoned outside of their cities. For weeks, the three races labored together to create weapons and armor. The dwarves forged the steel into breastplates and axes, while the elves imbued them with magic. So fine was the craftsmanship, it was said you could see the face of Raije in every piece of armor. "

"When every dwarf, elf, and minotaur was armed and ready, they prepared for the last battle of their lives. They knew that one side would not survive, either dae'Tok would be defeated or they would die trying to stop them. They knew that dae'Tok had amassed on what is now northern Icewall, just north of where Mahn-tor's keep is located. That morning, our forces charged dae'Tok. They outnumbered us by as many as 5 to 1. For a full day, the battle raged. This was thought to be Raije's masterpiece."

The battle began as the sun rose. The united forces had their backs to the sun, which gave them the advantage, at least in the morning. The bards sing of how Raije joined the battle himself. Whenever a unit was being overrun, a mysterious warrior would appear and turn the tide so that i was once again even. The battlerage of the dwarves was infectious. The minotaurs claimed to have felt no pain, fighting even without hands or whole arms. As night began to set in, it was clear that the yaenni were losing.

The power of the combined forces was more then dae'Tok was prepared for. They had never expected the elves and dwarves to unite against them. They thought that each race would be too egotistical to join with another. In one last charge, the minotaur Kukixi lead the three races against the remaining forces of the dae'Tok. Kukixi cut through the forces of yaenni, heading for their General. He faced off with the leader of the dae'Tok army and knew his life was well lived. He prayed to Raije for strength and Nadrik for an honorable battle and death.

He charged forward and thrust at the General. The yinn dodged the attack and swung his axe at Kukixi. Kukixi tried to dodge the blow, but it connected with his skull. The axe cleaved through the side of his skull, completely removing one horn. Kukixi did not pause for a second and thrust his sword through the yinn's heart. The remaining yinn fled in defeat as Kukixi raised the severed head of the yinn general in one hand and his own horn in the other. There were so many deaths and injuries from this battle, that the blood created an entire sea.

As the sun set, Kukixi was crowned Emperor, even though he did not survive the night. The Horn of Kukixi has since been passed down from Emperor to Emperor as a symbol of our great victory against the yinn. After this battle, Algoron rested in years of peace. It is believed that Kadiya allowed Raije to have his day of perfect war, in exchange for years of peace. Now children, you know both of our greatest battle and the origin of the Blood Sea.

Battle of the Blood Sea

Thunder filled the dark skies above the shores of Icewall. Dark rolling clouds scudded above the roiling masses of the combined forces of the Dwarves, Elves and Minotaurs as they engaged with the powerful yinn of Dae’Tok. They surged back and forth across the blood-muddied battlefield, engaged in tired, mindless slaughter. They had been fighting for hours and had long passed the point of exhaustion. The Dwarves struck with their axes grimly, an ingrained knack to their swing. They had ceased to fight and had turned to merely felling the Yinn that came at them in waves. The Elves desperately pulled arrows from the bodies of the fallen and fired them again, their faces twisting in pain as they drew their great longbows again and again. The day was wearing on and the armies were tiring.

Korbal stood atop the body of a fallen Yinn, panting hard as he tried to focus. His ears were ringing strangely and he was feeling too light on his feet for it to be a good thing. The unit he had been leading was in tatters. Korbal’s Dwarven sergeant, Sturn, rose from where he had been resting on one knee. His warhammer was chipped and soaked in blood and his eyes were as dead as his captain’s. He trudged slowly over to Korbal and let the head of his hammer drop to the ground as he rested on its shaft.

"What now, lad?" Sturn had never been one for formalities. Korbal glanced around dully at the destruction around him. The dead splayed all around him, their blood running thickly into the earth. Broken weapons jutted out of mangled bodies everywhere. Further back they lay in heaps, mute testament to the skills of the Elvish archers. The ridge they had been sent to secure had been taken and Korbal could distantly hear the low rumble of the catapults rolling up behind their position, accompanied by the occasional scream of the not-quite dead and those playing dead.

"Let’s find more dogs to kill", he said quietly, but couldn’t bring himself to move.

Korbal stared down at his giant lochaber axe, it’s two wicked curves covered in clotted blood. He noted with a touch of pride that it remained unmarked by the weapons of the enemy. The Dwarven weaponsmiths and elven mages had done their jobs well. He had discarded his secondary, inferior axe in combat. He realised that he had driven his fingernails into the wooden haft to keep from losing his grip. Splinters of wood stuck out of his skin and a slight trickle of blood pulsed from between his clenched fingers. He couldn’t be bothered to unclench his cramped hand.

Korbal shifted his gaze to the valley below him, where the massacre continued. Distant screams and shouts could be heard as a rainbow of elven arrows arced across the smoky sky and rained down upon the advancing Yinn. Turning to the other side of the ridge, he squinted down into a thick forest. A shadow within the trees had seemed to move. Slowly he turned around and looked back into the valley of the main battle.

"What’s that?" he asked Sturn, indicating the forest behind him with his head.

"A forest."

"Yes I realise that. Has it been checked?" Korbal watched the neck of a catapult snap forward launching a fiery ball of pitch and naptha high overhead.

"Mah lads checked it earlier."

"Why didn’t the elves do it?" The Ball exploded into the rear ranks of the enemy, Yinn bursting into flame and spreading it as they ran in a panic into their comrades.

"They were ta busy mekkin’ more arrows." Korbal turned slightly and looked down from the ridge out of the corner of his eye, seemingly checking the horizon. It was a densely planted hard wood forest, mostly oak. The gentle rustling of the broad leaves of the ancient oaks seemed so far removed from the slaughter taking place so close to it. Another flicker of movement. Dark, fast.

"Do you know why we don’t send dwarves to scout forests for us, Sturn?" Korbal asked as he looked around at the remains of his unit slowly pulling themselves together and gauging the distance to the nearest catapult.

" Cos we’re fat and get stuck?" Sturn replied ironically.

" Close, but no. Dwarves don’t scout forests because dwarves never look up. There’s a bunch of dogs creeping through the trees down there. No. Don’t move. They’re watching us."

Sturn tensely scanned the forest while pretending to tighten an armor strap.

" Ah see ‘em."

Korbal absently leaned down and wiped his axe clean on a Yinn body. " Gather the men. Try to make it look like we’re going to go into the valley. Tell them what’s going on. That unit is going to try to come around us and cut off the catapults. We can’t let that happen."

" Sir". Sturn protested, " we donna ha’ enough men ta stop em. There are barely twenty of us left. An we’re tired. Canna we call fer help?" Korbal shook his head, his giant horns swishing though the air.

" There’s no time. They’ll be on us is minutes and there’s no backup coming from down there."

Sturn sighed and turned away, picking his past the bodies and gathering the remaining soldiers around him. Korbal wished he had a brilliant plan, a clever ploy to foil the Yinn attack, but there was nothing. They were too close.

Walking slowly back to his troops who were huddled around Sturn, pausing only to snag a scout and tell him to send for help. Korbal discarded any thoughts of lying to his troops. He quickly tallied his forces. Six elves, eight Dwarves and seven Minotaurs. Twenty-one. Seeing them all together filled Korbal with unease. It was unnatural to see the two side-by-side. He put these thoughts at the back of his mind as he called them all to attention.

"Sturn has told you all what's happening?"

He asked. They all nodded mutely " Alright. This is the plan. They're too close for us to call for help and although I'd like to turn the catapults on them they're too close for that as well. All we can do is pretend not to know of their presence, wait for them to break from the cover of the trees and hope the advantage of the higher ground will give us a chance."

He looked at his troops to assess their commitment and sighed. " I won't lie to you. There will probably be more than fifty mutts in the strike force and I don't believe we have a good chance of winning this."

The dwarves' expressions never changed. The Elves looked worried. Korbal realised that death must be particularly scary to a creature that could live to be six hundred or more years old. He dismissed both reactions and felt his heart lighten at the expectant looks on the faces of his brethren.

" I know for some of you this is hard. I wish I could say something pretty and set your minds at rest, but I'm not an elf. I wish I could tell you a story of ancient clan glory, but I'm not a dwarf. We have a saying in Ganth that is the only thing I can offer you: " Death is a small thing. Dishonour lasts forever."

He looked into the face of each of his troops and they all nodded slowly. "Alright then," he said quietly, " Here's how we're going to do it."

The Yinn broke from the cover of trees in complete silence, hoping to conceal their presence until the last possible moment. They ran smoothly across the small field that lay between the ridge and the valley, they're muscles flowing under their smooth fur. Most carried swords and wore piecemeal armor but some were armed with axes to destroy the catapults. Korbal looked at them from his place of concealment behind a giant wheel. Disgusting things, Yinn. Korbal touched the blade of his axe to his forehead and whispered a brief prayer to Raije. The Yinn reached the bottom of the ridge and started to clamber up towards the catapults. There were over fifty of them. Korbal took a deep breath.

"Charge!"

Time slowed down as Korbal exploded from behind the catapult wheel and raced over the lip of the ridge. The mutts looked chagrined as they realised that they had lost the element of surprise. They panted visibly as they scrambled over rocks to reach the tope of the ridge. Korbal vowed they would never get that far. Plunging over the lip of the ridge, he skidded down the embankment, dimly aware that his men were right behind him. Arrows zipped past him, buzzing spitefully as they cut towards the Yinn. With a thud and a sigh the front rank of the warriors of Dae'tok fell in their tracks. Their comrades climbed over them, their eyes filled with hunger. The largest, their leader, Korbal guessed, let his troops run past him, shouting orders in their snarling language. Cowardly dogs.

Korbal slammed shoulder-first into the leading dog, a slavering beast with white and brown dappled fur. It grunted as the wind was knocked out of it and tumbled backwards down the embankment. Another Yinn attacked from Korbal's right, swing his sword in wild arc, Korbal deftly parried the stroke and slammed his axe into the hastily raised buckler. The lochaber bit deeply into the cheap metal, cutting into the dog's arm though the shield. It howled in pain as Korbal ripped his axe out of the buckler. The Yinn lifted his sword for another strike and instead received the minotaur's cloven hoof, which struck him on the breastbone. Korbal felt bone splinter beneath his hoof and saw a rib jut from the gasping Yinn's side. It fell back, blood frothing from its mouth.

Looking around quickly Korbal saw the rest of his unit engaged in fierce battle. The Elves had dropped their bows and entered combat. The dwarves chopped maniacally into the advancing yinn and the minotaurs were swinging their swords and axes in huge overhead arcs. A Yinn wielding two daggers reached Korbal's position and attacked in a blur, his blades flickering towards the minotaur captain as he tried to fend it off with his axe. Small cuts began to open in Korbal's arms and hands as he held the yinn at bay. It kept advancing, pushing Korbal back towards a giant boulder. Giving up on trying to parry the whirring attacks, The minotaur dropped his great head and charged the yinn, ripping his horns upwards into the dog's body. It screamed as Korbal whipped his head back, sending it flying into the boulder.

All around Korbal his troops surged back and forth with the yinn, fighting on adrenaline. The warriors of Dae'tok threw themselves desperately at the defenders, intent on the destruction of the catapults. Screams filled the air as blades clashed and the Yinn began to overrun the Korbals' troops. Korbal found himself fighting back to back with Sturn. The little dwarf was screaming incomprehensible curses at the yinn as he smashed his axe first into their legs and then into their bodies as they fell before him. Korbal was bleeding badly now from cuts in his sides and a deep pierce in his shoulder. He paid his wounds no attention, concentrating on the rhythmic rise and fall of his lochaber. He swung his axe again and again, striking at any slavering face that came near.

Until suddenly, there were none left. Looking around he realised he was surrounded by dead bodies. Furry dead bodies. A little way off his troops had been pushed into a natural crevice in the ridge and were being hard pressed. Only two elves, four dwarves and three Minotaurs remained, battling almost twenty Yinn. Taking a step towards them he almost tripped over a body. Sturn. The dwarf's chest was slashed from shoulder to waist and his eyes were glazed in death, but his grip remained fast on the axe that lay imbedded in the chest of the yinn that had killed him.

Korbal went deaf. The sounds of battle died out and even then thunder retreated to a low whisper. He could still feel it stroking through his body in waves. He he stepped over the prone body of his sergeant. Then he was running. An unintelligible warcry erupted from him as he swung his lochaber in a huge arc. The axe flew through the neck of a brown-furred yinn with barely any resistance. Another yinn who had spun around at the sound of Korbal's cry looked surprised as the giant waraxe ripped through his hastily upraised shield smashing though flesh and cartilage as is bit all the way into his spine. Korbal kicked the twitching corpse off his blade and spun around, crushing the skull of a dog charging him from behind.

The next attack sent a Yinn flying, tumbling his comrades. Then they were on him. They circled the great minotaur and darted in and out, slashing his legs. Korbal roared in rage. Releasing the shaft of his axe with one hand, he reached out and snatched the blade of a spear, yanking a yinn towards him. It stumbled forward only to meet a thrust from the tip of the lochaber. Its two cruel hooked points sank into its chest and it screamed as Korbal ripped it back out, causing its ribs to crack outwards. Korbal raised his axe to finish it and fell over backwards as he overbalanced. He stared dumbly at his right arm, or what was left of it. I had been cut off at the elbow and blood was spurting from it thickly.

Korbal felt nothing. A yinn dived at him recklessly, head on. Stupid. Korbal lowered his great head and then snapped it upwards. He felt the shock as the Yinn's sword clanged off one of his horns and then he felt them enter its body, sliding up into its bowels. Pulling his feet under him, Korbal surged to his feet. The Yinn still impaled upon his horns screamed as they swirled around his stomach, ripping his internal organs. Korbal reached down and picked up a Dwarven shield, wide at the top and pointed at the bottom. Another yinn, getting over his shock at the minotaur's savagery quicker than his fellows, leapt forward with an overhand strike from his longsword. Korbal brushed it aside disdainfully and smashed the shield into its face. He felt its skull implode and marvelled at the fine red mist of blood that hung in the air as the dead dog fell to the ground. He felt the disturbance in the air as someone moved behind him. He felt a blade sink deeply into his ribs. Spinning around he slashed a throat with the pointed edge of the shield and then embedded it into the side of head. Blank eyes stared at him as a wolfish mouth gaped open and dragged the shield down.

Suddenly they were everywhere. Korbal felt blades cutting him in the torso and arms. Some of the yinn, so enraged by the minotaur's temerity, dropped their weapons and attacked with their teeth and claws. Korbal felt blood flowing down his fur and into the mud. He felt light yet couldn't support his weight. Bodies piled up on top of him, biting, thrashing. Slowly, ever so slowly, he fell to his knees, and as his vision whited his heart was filled with joy as it emptied of life. fell on his attackers with screams of vengeance. He closed his eyes and listened to the thuds of bodies collapsing into the dark mud, as if knocking on the earth, begging to be let in. Then all was silent.

"Sir?" A voice came to him as if from a great distance.

" Ah. Rogar" Korbal recognised the voice of the young minotaur, " I wish..."

" Yes sir?" Korbal drew in a last ragged breath.

" I wish...I had some meaningful last words." He sighed out the last of his life and lay back, listening to the thunder roll though him.