NOVEL NEXT 81
The snow stops falling
Clear is the sky once more
Serenity returns to Laurelorn
With the battle over, what follows is the burning of the dead and counting those that survive. Those under Dorn’s leadership from the south suffer the least casualty as he and the cygors quickly defeat the Greater Daemon of Khorne. Most lesser daemons cannot withstand the divine power radiating from the artifact between Dorn’s horns and outright banishing them. Those from the West suffer most casualties in proportion to their original size due to their fewer numbers. While at least half the shamans survive, only a few dozen beastmen survive from their hundreds. Finally, those from the east suffer the biggest casualties as they have the combined number of Kal’s and Druig’s warbands. However, more than half managed to survive. Mostly due to their enhanced resistance to diseases, many can be healed in time.
With the battle concluding with more than half of their original number surviving, this is the best engagement the Golden Beastmen have experienced. For the Eonir however, it is the end of their kingdom. Due to their queen’s decision, most if not all of the Eonir population gathered within their capital. When the Blinding Death struck, it took the majority of their people. The ancient curse they used to fend off the dwarves during the War of the Beard 4000 years ago was used against them. The irony will surely make the dwarves who still tightly hold their grudges laugh if there’s any to witness it. All that is left is what the Golden Herd will do to the survivors.
The once clear sky is once more clouded black as numerous burning pires dotted the once battlefield. I along with all of my children entered the destroyed gate of Tor Lithanel. Surprisingly, the Eonir also piled their dead and burned them. Though I didn’t really know about their burial rites, I think this is not their usual rite. Not that they have any choice. Those that died from the Blinding Death have the rot spread to their brain and directly melts the brain. Then gas made from the melted brain flows out from the empty eye sockets and spreads to whoever poor soul that comes near.
“HALT!” A thunderous voice rang from above. Then land a dragon and its rider. With six more dragons flying overhead. I don’t remember Ulthuan having this many dragons to spare to other territories. This might be another consequence of my Herdstone as if I am correct, most dragons are in indefinite hibernation from the lack of magic.
I saw a familiar face on the dragon. And so does he.
“From a guard captain to a dragon rider. You get quite a promotion Rivandil.” I said to the rider. I felt a tinge of pleasant sensation of seeing an old acquaintance though it is immediately gone. His eyes went wide in recognition and almost smiled though he immediately refocused.
“Do I speak with Valariel or the Daemon?” Rivandil points his enchanted spear at me
His dragon growls in intimidation. Ready to breathe fire at moment notice.
“Both.” Technically not lying. Though Rivandil is not amused by my answer.
“It’s alright Lord Rivandil. Let her pass.” A tired but melodious voice interject. Again I am surprised to see a familiar face. Not because I have seen her before but because her face is similar to me, or to Valariel. She must be the Eonir’s queen, Queen Marrisith. Then again the Line of Aenarion did almost have a monopoly of elven royal positions. This would make her… my cousin, twice or thrice removed.
“But-”
“We are in no position to fight back anymore and they can slaughter us whenever they want but did not.” She interrupt again, clearly wanting to finish whatever left today
I decide to stay quiet and let both have a short stare down. Finally Rivandil relents.
“I will be watching you daemon.” He warns but lets me and my children pass. Following the Queen and Rivandil, there are quite plenty of Eonirs survive within the walls of the tallest tower. The surrounding vast courtyard is turned into makeshift hospitals and such. Then the dragons land to my herd left and right. Making a division between my herd and the surprised Eonirs. One of the dragons dared to bite forward in intimidation. Dorn immediately stomped his gigantic hoof in front of the dragon and it immediately recoiled back. Wonder if I can get one or two dragons in the deal.
Entering the tower, Dorn is left outside as he can’t fit in the door while I need to compress my size to be able to enter. Surprisingly Wolfe also can alter his size somewhat and enters the throne room along with me and the rest of my children. The thought of giving Dorn the ability to also compress his size passed my mind. Though it kind of betrays the purpose of creating a cygor if I did. So I put the idea on maybe.
“Well then, let’s discuss what you will do to my people.” Queen Marrisith starts. I let my eye wander the throne room as I thought about what to say. A tapestry here, some ornaments there and there. Things that might interest me in the past.But not anymore.
“Nothing.”
“What?” Come from the queen and Rivandil.
“I never thought this far actually. I am here to reclaim my son from Nurgle and haven’t spared any thought on you Eonirs.” I clarified. Then Wolfe nudged my hand from behind. I pat his head and again he starts climbing and licking.
“But he’s here now so I don’t know. We also saved some of the Eonirs when they ran away from Laurelorn, but that is my daughter’s decision and I don't really care if she decides otherwise.” Both started to frown. Too honest I guess.
“In other words, I won’t really do anything to your people if I take Laurelorn. I can allow them one chance to leave. If not, they must submit to my rule along with my beastmen.” I rephrase it to make it more understandable to both.
“That’s it?” Marrisith asks, still in disbelief at my words.
“Although…” I then turn to Rivandil.
“So you want something more?” He frowns even deeper as if he knows there’s a catch.
“Can you give me one or two of your dragons?” I add my demand.
“What?” Again he asked incredulously.
Did I say something wrong?
I did ask the entire kingdom and some dragons
This is the standard demand in medieval peace terms right?
