Orcs in the Webbe

The following piece of speculative fiction was written by Gavin Syme, head of the World of Valon at Alternative Armies and is from the Maelstrome Fantasy Mass Battle books and is given here for special use by Orcs in the Webbe in its online Advent Calendar 2008.

This is a tale set many years before the end of the Darke Age and deals with the initial attempts of the Elves of the Crystal Empire to understand the Dracci, Children of the Dragons, as they burst onto the scene in the seemingly endless wars of the Age of Wylde Magicke.

***

‘Never minde who these daemons are, rather whate are they?  Our Regyments marche into thee storm of battle wythout thee armoure of foreknowing theyre foes, this is thee reason for dysaster.  We must have this foreknowing, thee foundatyons of Thee Peacock Throne could now rest upon it.’

Crown Prince Marlass, address to the Officers of the Colonial Slayers, Alevia

***

Two squadrons of the elite Empress Lancers cantered carefully along the finely cobbled Rue de Ressentiment, home to the barred windows of the Odious’s main barracks, their long lances raised vertical and their horse hooves clothed to muffle their passing.

Tournelle at night was majestic, true it could not compare to the splendour of Lyonesse and the marble terraces of the palaces, second city of the Empire whose lights could be seen leagues away.  Rounding the corner of the street the mounted Elves came into view of the Academie Philosophic, scattering onlookers they drew up in a single line in front of the great ornate gates of the Academie.

They were late and had arrived just in time to be of use, Renard Vertjim commander of the two squadrons barely had a moment to glance at the furious expression on the face of the Major standing at the gates.  The crowd, that had been growing over the past hour, was gazing at the starry sky waiting.  The Major snorted and waved at his Halberdiers who had wavered slightly under the press of the common crowd, the Halberdiers linked shoulders and pushed out a much wider clear space until the whole street was empty.

The crowd now bunched in to the four Rues adjacent and leading away from the Academie shouted their protests, they were ignored. It was then that two mighty shadows blotted out the blanket of lights in the cold air, a rush of massive wings beating and almost as a single creature the pair of huge Griffens touched down in the open space left by the ring of Halberdiers.  Vertjim steadied his horse. Even though she had been trained to be used to the Beasts that formed an integral part of the Armeés, seeing two at this close distance and almost without warning had disturbed the mare.

The crowd, who had gathered expecting just such a sight at the rumours spread by fleeting urchins, were far more alarmed.  Echoing round the stone walls of the buildings, the shriek of the Griffens caused some of the more highly-strung members of the crowd to faint or at least they pretended to.

Vertjim now conscious of the gaze levelled at him by the Major was glad to be able to order his troops to form the requisite honour guard for the arrival of an official Ambassador.  He followed the pattern of steps in the manual perfectly though it was the first time in a long while that foreign dignitaries had been this close to the centre of the Empire, something important must be happening.

Teams of Elf porters came from the now open Academie gates and set to in pushing the large iron chest that had been carried in the talons of one of the Griffens onto a trolley and wheeled it with some difficulty into the Academie.  The Empress Lancers ignored this, though they must have been sure that the chest was the object of the Ambassador’s visit, travel on a Griffen was rare and restricted to urgent matters.

The handler of the Griffens, a renowned Elf by the name of Cressey Daheris, smiled as he oversaw the hammering of thick chains into the surface of the street by yet more porters.  Any lapse in his concentration before these two Beasts were fully secured could prove to be lethal to all in the immediate area, without the guidance of a confident handler Beasts would often run rampant.

He escorted the robed figures of the, Vertjim guessed Dwarf, Ambassadors to the fine arched wooden doors of the Academie. Vertjin watched as Daheris bowed deeply to the occupants of several rich coaches that were disgorging their finely dressed occupants and then followed them inside the Academie.

The Academie, Vertjin knew, was a renowned centre of learning for the education of the trainers of the great beasts that form a central part of the mighty imperial regiments that protect the Crystal Elves from every threat inside and outside of the Empire’s borders.

The training of the beast handlers was by no means the sole activity of the Academie, in the long rows of rooms leading from the marble corridors that fan out from the core of the building many arcane and unusual subjects are studied by some of the finest minds on Valon, in one of the few places that retain elements of the world that existed before the Fall.  Among these varied subjects several eminent scholars concern themselves with the investigation of the diverse matter and exotic minds of the Empire’s enemies.

Enemies that have proved difficult to overcome are a veritable core part of the Academie Philosophic’s studies. In some cases the knowledge gained had made the difference between victory and an ignominious defeat

As the group of nobles, scholars and high-ranking officers disappeared from view the Lancers and Halberdiers were left to keep one eye on the crowd and the other on the two hulking Griffens. 

Corridors led off in all directions. The group had passed many smaller passages on their way to the central chamber. Off to a side enclave, separated by heavy ropes closed to all visitors and even some of the Academie staff were the displays of the Undead captured at great expense.  Many were chained to the walls, as the residue of Wylde Magicke contained in their limbs would react even years after their destruction if a warm body approached.

Much had been learned of the craft of the Necromancers and many Elves had fallen to mistakes made before the tactics and weaknesses of the living dead were deciphered.  The evil of Necromancy for so long the scourge of Valon, was now seemingly second in its threat to life.

They passed lecturing halls bedecked with charts and scrolls and a few ancient texts written in dead languages, debates would take place here concerning the nature of every intelligent race to be found both in the Empire and beyond its borders.

In large glass cases skeletons were pinned upright and dressed in the manner in which they were brought to be studied and sometimes dissected in front of often paying audiences.   The mighty petrified arms of an Oaken, the armoured remains of a Gnome Knight, the stuffed form of a Man dressed in tunic and breeches and of course the Dwarf Warriors captured and examined in detail many decades earlier.

These rooms and lecturing halls were now deserted as teams of servants disassembled each case in turn and packed their every content into large crates. Into these crates were also placed all the precious books and scrolls that adorned the benches and walls.

The windows were blacked out with rolls of dark velvet, not to prevent someone looking in from the roof of an adjoining tenement, though that was a consideration.  It was to prevent the exceptional guests of the Academie from observing more than they were grudgingly being allowed to view.

The exceptional guests being tolerated were a pair of Ambassadors from the court of Artur the King of the Krautan Dwarves. Their presence was a concession to the enormous difficulty of obtaining the subject of the dissection and discussion that was to take place in the Academie that very night.

Two rows of leather chairs on a specially raised dais overlooked a slab table of grey stone.  Twenty of the most influential members of the Empire’s populace along with the two Dwarves were going to witness the only detailed study of carefully preserved body of a Dracci Warrior ever taken from the battlefield. The Dracci, the greatest foe ever to threaten the Crystal Elves, were almost a total unknown.  Thousands of the Empire’s troops had died in vicious combat with the Dragon Children already. Even the Undead Legions had proven unable to halt them.

Knowledge hopefully gleaned from the carefully preserved body provided in a spirit of co-operation would release the key to defeating the fury of the Dracci, Children of the Dragon.

All of the leather chairs were now occupied. Although every person in the chamber was important and a person of note, the four chairs at the very front were reserved for the most distinguished guests and visitors.

The two somewhat bedraggled Dwarves who had not been allowed even to wash or change their dirty clothes since their arrival from Alevia were politely ushered to seats at the rear of the room.  Hans Chussen the older of the Krautans sighed. He had expected this treatment; the Gods help them all if this vital chance to gain an advantage was wasted by Elven blood feuds and futile bickering for position.

The foremost four leather chairs, now occupied by four Elves, sat facing the grey slab of stone that now had the same iron box laid heavily beside it.  From the side nearest the rusted iron box they were Cressey Daheris, the famous Handler, pride of the Academie itself, then the Mage Lathron Othox.  Hans felt gladdened by the sight of the Mage, Othox rarely travelled from the battlefield back to the inner Empire for his skills were needed everywhere. The importance of this meeting must have been realised.

Next was the foppish and luxuriously dressed Count Uriens, in crushed velvet and fur cloak. He was a greater noble of the Imperial Court and founder of the Order of The Peacock Throne, one of the finest archery regiments in the Inner Empire.

While Uriens sat loosely on his chair commenting on the ridiculous hour of the gathering, the Elf next to him sat rigid in her chair resplendent in blue robes and a good deal of finely crafted chain mail.

Her features covered by a close fitted faceplate, The Lady Marshall of the Knightly Order of the Sword, Danielle du Lace was in Tournelle accompanied by her entirely female Regiment.  They had been mauled at the battle of the Narrow Leiffe Pass. Fielded against the Dracci, the Regiment had escaped only due to the superb Magicke of Othox, who had accompanied du Lac and her troops back to the Empire.

Du Lac had insisted that her presence be included at this event and it had cost her a great deal of gold coin.  Othox tried to catch her gaze but the Lady was, as so often, fixed on the task in hand and she ignored him and everyone else in the chamber, her eyes fixed on the iron box.

A team of porters started to pull the lid of the iron box free. They strained and heaved as rust chips fell away and then the lid clanged with a mighty booming sound to the floor, shattering several flagstones.  The lid was then dragged away to the far corner of the chamber and then ignored as the porters returned and peered into the open box.

Thick, black and murky, the oil filling the box shone dully in the light of the chamber.  Nothing could be discerned beneath the surface of this swirling viscous lake within a box.  The porters placed their hands on the edges of the iron box but hesitated unwilling or unable to decide wither they should plunge their arms into the oil and haul what was contained in the box out into the view of the audience.

The agony of a possible incorrect and socially damaging decision was taken from them by the cadence of a suppressed hush as the rear door of the room opened. A clap of hands and the Academie’s head scholar of ‘Le Bete Studies’ entered the chamber.

Master Equaine glided into the chamber and bowed to a modest applause. Equaine was a middle-aged Elf who rarely left the Academie.  His learning on the habits of the beasts of the Empire and beyond was prestigious.  He headed his department with a pride that only comes with being informed of your greatness a thousand fold between the rise and set of the sun.  He took his place facing the audience and began to speak.

‘Sirs and of course Lady, you are here for answers to your questions and I have gone to huge lengths to gain that which shall give you the truth on our enemies.’

As he bowed slightly to Danielle du Lac he motioned to the porters to pull back the heavy bolts that lined the side of the iron box to release its contents for investigation.

‘I give you the fabled Child of the Dragons, the savages of the sacred texts, the Dracci in all its vanquished glory!’

The bolts creaked and groaned, and then the final two snapped under the weight of the contents of the box. With a rush the oil cascaded to the floor and surged into the drains just beyond the feet of the front row of onlookers.

Uriens gave a look of disgust as droplets of filthy mess stained his breeches. He was so preoccupied he missed the body that rolled with the oil onto the cold floor.  All bar the Master and the four seated at the front took a sharp intake of breath as the corpse of a Dracci Warrior was revealed in the rapidly dispersing oil.

Timidly though with a remarkable display of aloofness the porters, seven in total, lifted the body and placed it onto the slab examination table of grey stone. They then retreated and flushed themselves with the walls.  The deep blood red of the Dracci’s body was visible now, its length more than a head taller than an Elf and with a greater bulk of muscle than any Orc Strong Arm.

The creature’s mouth was open and many yellowed yet sharp teeth could be seen. The jaw of the Dracci gave testimony to a bite that could easily remove a limb.   Its hands and feet had talons that were as sharp as swords though easily able to hold and wield a weapon with power and skill; a short tail lay between its legs.

The body had been involved in a clash that would have reduced a Man to kindling, its skin broken and torn, several teeth smashed and one arm separated past the thick bone at its core.  One of the Dracci’s eyes was missing and at this sight the Dwarves shuddered.

The body was damaged and it was rotten. The sickly sweet smell reeked of the early stages of decomposition.   Master Equaine bowed and spoke of how the body had arrived at the Academie.

‘The bravery of those Griffen handlers and the soldiers of the Empire that made this gathering possible must be applauded, it is the bravery of these Elves that makes the Empire the finest to be found on Valon.’

‘The iron chest you see here is a Krautan fabrication and we thank them for it, and we give them access here now. However the right is ours to the fame this discovery will afford us.’

Sadly the Krautans shook their heads, no mention was given to the Dwarves who had died capturing the Dracci or the demise of the Spider Tamer from Frassien that they had hired.  By the time the Elves had arrived the corpse was just that, but that fact would not be known inside the Empire.

‘Let us begin the investigation and see that which is to be known.  Of those here who portends to know what this wretched creature here lying could be?’

Count Uriens laughed and raised his hand in a mocking impression of a young student of the Academie, the tone of scorn in his voice was grating on the ears of the audience.

‘I do not pretend to know all of the foul creatures of the world Equaine, but I shall say this.  What lays stinking on that slab is no monster, no daemon or result of Wylde Magicke; it is a ploy of the Necromancers.  Naught but a crude attempt to draw our attention away from the real menace to the Empire, the Walking Dead.  It is a zombie, a cadaver without animation, a marionette with its strings cut.  Any other thought is madness and the Dracci thereby are a fake agent of the Undead.’

The Master Equaine listened and then with a patient riposte stated the thoughts of many in the room, the educated and book-learned answer to this ludicrous statement of the inhabitant of the Imperial Court.

‘Quite Count.  You must say though that the writings of Gildas the Bard of the Dragon and the scrolls of Shivalia of the Dragon Wars can be said to have come about now in the present’.

‘The Necromancers were not known to Gildas, who has been wrong before, but most feel that the Undead are not part of the Dracci curse.’

Looking angry the Count lowered his hand and snarled at the Master to pray tell him just what then the Dracci were.  Equaine waved his hand at the corpse on the slab and obliged him.

‘There you see what is called a Warrior Dracci, though we do not know what it names itself as their tongue is quite ludicrous and insensible, worse even than that of the Lizards.  This Warrior caste is the most common of the Dracci and is to be found in simple terms wherever Dracci are to found.  In addition to these common Warriors we have seen but not captured flying Warriors who are smaller of frame but fleeter of foot’.

‘Then there are the Wyrms who I have termed Beasts for they have no mind but they are fearsome.  And of course the other Warrior Dracci, the huge fighters that have done such harm to our soldiers, we term these ‘Lords’ for they do dominate the battlefield.’

The Count answered Equaine curtly.

‘I suppose you are correct in your classification of these creatures but surely they are not Dragons. Rather they are simple Lizards from the Otharmann Realms that we know little of. A different hue and shade of colour yes but not a separate race.  These Dracci should be easily beaten.’

Master Equaine was going to give a reply to this notion but was pre-empted by Cressy Daheris who stated simply.

‘You are quite simply mistaken with that comment my dear Count. Do not take offence but I will say that they are not Lizards of any kind.  I have seen the Snake Priests driving their troops against the Goblins and there is nothing of the craven coward in these creatures.’

‘What ever they be, courage is not present in great amounts in the Lizardmen.  They will not be easily dispatched even by your bows.’

The Handler reclined in his chair and bowed slightly to the Count who while not taking offence to this rude intrusion was angered by the slight paid to his Order of The Peacock Throne and replied;

‘Just what then do these creatures wield in anger against my Order that could get the better of their bows?’

Danielle du Lac spoke directly and with authority. Her Order knew the fury of the Dragon Children better than most.

‘Their arms are not of this continent nor of any place I have ever heard.’

‘The children of the Dragon, the Dracci, are an incarnation of dread and despair.  They are the greatest foe ever faced by the Crystal Empire, their strength is surpassed only by the massive Beasts of the Armée, their speed only bettered by the fastest of cavalry and their habits a mystery.  It is not these abilities that must concern the Empire however, for unlike the shambling multitudes of the Undead the eyes of the Dracci display a deep and primal intelligence.’

‘Thick bands of muscle rope around the body of a Dracci Warrior. From its head to clawed feet it is constantly flexing and shifting, wanting to be in motion to kill and move onwards.  Swords and spears of carved Jade tempered by a thick oily substance are wielded with skill by the Dracci’.

Not wanting do offend the Lady, indeed her reputation of ability with the long sword that fell scabbarded at her left leg made the Count wary of offending her.  He made his point he felt well, in that how could a true soldier fight with a weapon made of a carved rock, only savages did these things.

‘Other races must finding the weight, the odd irregular surfaces and halfts of these arms impossible to use discount their ability to kill. The Dracci in battle are an embodiment of raw power and soldiery combined, their goal despite injury or fatigue to be victorious no matter the price’.

‘A jade sword while not of the grace of steel is just as lethal and indeed it will snap an Elf blade that catches it badly’.

‘Then there is the issue of flame and fire.  These creatures, the larger of them, can breathe a plume of flame that will make ash of anyone caught in its path’.

‘Before you question me on the Magicke of this spell I shall tell you that it is no caste incantation or artifact but an innate gift to them, proving for I at least that they are Dragons.’

‘Surely you would not dispute a Dragon does make flame first and foremost?’

While no one would counter the Lady in her speech their was a silence of contemplation in the audience as if this speaking of violence not seen in the cities of the Inner Empire could be a reality that would threaten them.

Many remained silent as Master Equaine told of the position of the Academie and thereby the Crystal Empire on the supposed origins of the Dracci.  He spoke of texts, scrolls and statues that had existed before the Fall and their meanings concerning the Dragon Children.

Then Equaine lectured the audience on the virtues of Elven culture and the superiority of their ways of living compared to the barbaric races of Valon.  In over- complicated and flowery language he made the case that the Dracci had come from the edge of the world and were corruptions of natural forces.  They were the strange and other worldly creatures that roamed the vast empty spaces outside of the Central Continent.

He stated that the nakedness of the Dracci was testimony to their savagery and their language was guttural grunts and screams that had no meaning beyond the violence in sound that they carried to create fear.

‘Beyond the cities of the Empire were only Beasts and savage races bent on destruction.  Did not the Orcs prove this to be true and the Undead as well?’

They separated themselves from civilisation and paid the price for it.  It was sensible to assume that since the Dracci came from a place far more distant, that they would be the ultimate in mindless barbarity.  The city and the civilisations contained within it would be more than a match for barbarians, all learned Elves knew that though they could beat at the gates the barbarians would never gain entry.

At length Equaine settled on the theory that the Dracci were savages and nomadic raiders who would more than likely reside on the fringes of the Empire for ten seasons before returning to the lands of the Othari and back to the edge of the world.

‘Well said!’ ‘I agree most fully with the Masters findings in this matter.  These Dracci are nomads and transient at that.  Surely we all can agree that being distant from the light of the Empress would breed animal ways.  It does occur to me though just how do the Dracci organise themselves?  For I and others have seen them make difficult acts of co-operation on the field of battle and make use of Beasts of their own.’

The Beast Handler Cressey Daharis aimed his question at Equaine but it was answered by Uriens, who stood and addressed the whole audience.

‘The key here is the Beasts I hear are used by the Dracci.  These Beasts are similar in purpose to the Griffens and Magicke creatures such as the awe inspiring Djinn we are in possession of, but they are Dragons and that is the point.’

‘The Dragons are not Beasts in the manner we use them, they lead the Dracci and as a result surely the Warriors as you call them crowd round the Dragon waiting to charge when the Dragon does.  This gives the impression of a Handler where none exists.’

Cressey Daharis shook his head, angered by the presumption that he, a veteran Handler of the Academie, could be so easily wrong in his views.

‘The Dracci are the masters of the Dragons and Wyrms, of this I am certain and not open to question.  I have seen their Handlers in the shadow of the Dragon’s mighty wing, and he is doing as I am doing.  Directing a massive wall of flesh against the enemy.’

Equaine raised his voice and calmed the audience who were now arguing amongst themselves.

‘Both of you are misguided on this matter.  The Dragons are not Beasts and they are not Warlords, they are Gods.  It is obvious to me that they are ancient and powerful creatures, evil and coarse but worshipped by savages in their own right.  We do not see them as Gods but that is what they are.’

There was no agreement here.  Some were distressed by the body on the slab, others adhered to one view or the other, yet more disagreed and loudly gave their opinion.  The noise rose and rose becoming a din that could be heard outside the chamber, the audience was breaking up.  It took the Lady du Lac tapping the tip of her sword blade on the stone floor to restore silence.

‘The Dragons are not our concern here; they will have their time.  Let us attend to the Dracci Warrior that lays there in front of us. It is real and its fury witnessed by many.  What does the noble assembly here know of their habits and weaknesses, these might prove to be of benefit to all.’

The chamber exploded into noise again as all voiced their truth of the Dracci’s nature, and how they could be defeated by the Empire. Calm was called for and eventually voices spoke and could be understood by all, the explanations of Dracci habits and ways, weaknesses and failings came in a constant stream.  One after another they stood and addressed the audience.

‘I tell you they can’t see in the dark, my brother told me that he saw them stumble and fall against each other when the Order of the Axe fought them in cover of darkness near Reien.  We should fight them at night, and be assured of an easy victory!’

‘Yes, yes I agree.  I put forward that they fear young maidens dressed in white gowns.  Do not mock this, I hear tell of Dracci who did not attack the Sisters of Pylanus, who as we know wear white.  They cannot stand the colour, dress our Regiments in white!’

‘Colour is the answer, I say when I served in Alevia I saw them change their skin colour when under attack.  I swear on my family’s honour, they went from a light red hue to a deep scarlet and then almost purple when sword-to-sword with our troops.  We should confuse them with banners of red and purple!’

‘I know that they actually have no tongues, and thereby no voice.  They speak by Magicke to each other’s minds, that is why they can put up such a good fight.  Perhaps they can cast spells on our soldiers and know their thoughts.  We can order our troops to think on every thing in the world except the battle and drive them to madness!’

‘Hear, Hear, that will work but consider this.  They can all fly; it is their most vital secret.  How else could they move across the land so fast?  They can fly and that’s how they defeat us, no other skill or strength.  Our troops should assemble great nets and carry them above their heads while marching, this will entangle and defeat the Dracci!’

The Dwarves glumly stared at the walls. This was hopeless.  All the common lore that they had heard in the Barlinstatte and elsewhere in the League.  It was all superstition and had been tried by the Krautans and Goblins alike, even the Wood Elves still used a couple of these tricks.  Many had died and the Dragon kept advancing.

Danielle du Lac ended the general discussion by assuming her full height and pouring a torrent of venomous rage on the audience. All this speculation was no use to her and her Order.  It was, she believed, in the manners of war that the Dracci had to be understood, how they fought and the style of combat they preferred.

‘Look at that body lying there, it is real and I know it cost many lives to get it here.  It is only in battle that the Dracci will be beaten and our Armeés do not on the whole understand their enemy.’

‘We know their affinity with the Lizardmen, and I have seen what that alliance means on the field.’

‘The Lizards are used as lance fodder, arrow bait, blade scabbards however you wish to call it.  They are smart enough not to waste their numbers in pointless struggle’.

‘Only against the Undead do they fight face to face, never giving ground their hatred of the Necromancers exceeds even our’s.’

‘When they engage the Armée of the Provinces or the Inner Empire alike they change their style of battle.’

‘A Dracci Horde will open the battle with its flying troops; they swoop low and hard on our troops dropping stones, fire and other materials.  They will retreat in light of our archers but this is a ruse on the part of the Dracci.’ ‘It covers the advance of the Warriors and the Beasts.  Our troops will sally forth and match pace with the Dracci until they are a few spear throws in distance apart, then the deception ends.’

‘The Warriors can run at great speed, they charge and attempt to lock swords as quickly as they can.  The mass of the Dracci when they impact our lines are like a cavalry charge, our Elves are smashed in the collision and our lines break losing our advantage’.

‘We are sadly no match individually for a Dracci Warrior, no, no don’t jeer me, not on the battlefield the confusion and torn soil is too much; this is war not a duel.’

‘Cavalry are of great use to us against the Dracci, they match them for pace and in the case of the Colonial Slayers they can best them in combat.  It is death though for our horse if they are halted in combat, the Dracci can pull the riders from their mounts with little effort.’

The Lady gestured to Cressey Daharis who continued the speech; he had been awaiting this chance to speak.

‘All of you have noted the fear that the Dracci Lords have instilled in our troops’.

I even hear tell of the lower sorts now telling their children that it is the Lords, not the Necromancers who will come and get them if they misbehave.’

‘These creatures are closer to Beasts than soldiers, they are larger than Ogres and are, given the right chance, a match for a War Troll.’

‘Do not put this off lightly; I have lost two Griffens to them.  The Dracci Lords are a threat greater than the Warriors, we must be thankful that they are in far fewer numbers than the other creatures of the Horde.’

‘Though the proof is not clear and our troops are muddled in their reports, I am almost certain in my mind that it is the Lords that possess the gift of flame amongst the Dracci.  I have seen a Dracci Lord impale four of our lancers on its spear, the jade tip of the spear was longer than the blade of the sword at my side.’

‘The Lord then turned its head and launch a great globule of liquid fire from its maw and killed several more lancers trying to approach it from the side.  They burned and writhed most terribly, the fire stuck to them and boiled them in their mail.  A horrid sight but it proved the point for me.’

He paused before adding a final point to his speech;

‘We have little time before this corpse becomes useless, but we must continue to take note of what the commanders of our Regiments learn in Alevia and elsewhere.  After we know how to defeat the Dracci Warriors, the Lords must be our next subject in this Academie.’

Silence came over the chamber, all listened and mused on these words.  Master Equaine broke the moment by regaining the attention of the group; it was time to begin work on the Dracci corpse.  Three porters brought trays of knives, saws and other tools of the physick to the slab and the hands of Equaine.

‘ Now we will commit damage to the flesh of this creature, and put the truth of it right by applying the scrolls of Galien.’

Outside the chamber Crystal Halberdiers stood guard, the permission to use tools of the physick on the dead, even the body of a Dracci, had to come from the Empress herself.  The permission was warranted for one occasion only, to cut into a corpse to study was a crime punishable by execution.

The ancient scrolls were enough knowledge for all, no more was needed; yet the threat of the Dracci had prompted this permission for the first time in many years.

‘You know that I do this act of the physick only under order and would otherwise not contemplate such a vulgar act.’

Master Equaine took a long knife in his hand and manipulated it uneasily, this was his first time in conducting this forbidden operation.  He found the act of cutting a body repulsive and unnecessary; it was a brutish thing that was not needed. The texts of Galien had been in Elf hands since time immemorial, they laid out how bodies worked and such matters as that.

To actually slice into a corpse was horrid and pointless, nothing would be gained from it, but then the Empress must be obeyed.

Pressing the edge of the knife against the abdomen of the Dracci he spoke as the blade pieced the skin.

‘As Galien writes, when the body of a creature is cut the blood will spray forth in a torrent once the core is reached.  There, as I pull out the knife watch for the spray.’

Blood oozed from the cut, slowly and thickly.  Equaine was shocked, where was the spray?  He made another deeper cut in the stomach of the Dracci, pushing the blade in to the hilt.  Again the blood leaked slowly from the corpse.  The Master rallied himself and stated;

‘Well, that can be explained Lords and Lady by the words of Count Uriens.  This creature is no Dracci. It is a creation of the Necromancers, a Zombie under Magicke enchantment.  As Galien points out only the Undead do not spray blood when cut.’

The Mage Othox assured the Master that the audience had already agreed that it was a true Dracci on the slab and besides if an enchantment was in place of that power he would be able to sense it.

‘Quite so Mage, you are right.  I must say though that some things here are not what they seem.’

Master Equaine continued to cut away pieces of the corpse, all the while a porter held a page of the text he was working from for his view.  It was the ‘Operaton Lizardicus’ written on the Lizardmen by  Galien, presumed to be applicable to the Dracci also.

After a short time it became clear that the text was incorrect, the vessels of the body were in different places and the bones were much thicker as were the ropes of muscle connecting the limbs.  Wiping his forehead and cleaning his hands in a bowl of water the Master turned to the audience, motioning that the body be covered with a sheet.

‘What we see here is plain.  This is a Dracci indeed but not a true one, which is to our advantage.  The Dracci of Galien's time were a far superior creature, of which this is a poor relation, since ancient times they have degenerated into shadows of their former selves.  That is why it does not match the scrolls.  There is no need to continue this vile experiment.’

‘The corpse will be taken and burned, we know all we need to know already.’

The sheet was draped over the Dracci, it made a menacing if hidden form.  So much had been risked and lost to bring it to Tournelle, was it all to be in vain.  The Dwarves lifted their cloaks and left silently, for them the answer was clear.  For now at least the Krautan League was going to have to pursue its own course on the Dracci.  They were not noticed as they left the chamber, only the guards escorting them from the Academie were aware of the passing.

They were thankful that the League had the Kandeltropen. The Colonial Slayers of Crown Prince Marlass were excellent soldiers, but they would not be enough.  Not nearly enough.

Master Equaine continued to speak, not aware of the Dwarf’s departure.  He was sure now of how to end this gathering, he had been proven correct, the Dracci existed but they were little threat.

‘The texts have been confirmed in this matter.  The Dracci are cousins of the craven Lizardmen and they will be beaten by virtue of that fact.  Anything that this corpse could tell us would only confuse the truth, the Empire will prevail against these savages.  Besides you all see how pathetic it is lying there leaking and giving a foul odour.  I think we can all go back to our offices and rest confident, there is little danger.’

Chairs squeaked as their occupants rose and made ready to leave.  Equaine did not have time to bow to Count Uriens before Danielle du Lac addressed the chamber, Daharis was at her side.

‘Wait, all of you.  This broken and foul creature that we see here is indeed the loathed Dracci, yet it at the same moment is not a Dracci.  There it lies dead, still and limp easily viewed and joked over by those who have no other notion of the Dragon’s power.’

‘These are born warriors, their true intent can be seen when they run and howl, snarl at you and you can smell the meat on their breath.  Running, so fast and yet graceful with it they can close the field to your blade better than many horses.’

‘Until a live Dracci can be brought to the cities of the Empire, the Dragon Children’s true vibrant energy is only guessed at or mocked by those in authority.’

Some of the audience raised an eyebrow others nodded, though out of agreement or courtesy du Lac could not tell.  They all filed out leaving the four in the front row and Equaine alone. The Master snapped his fingers and porters began to gather up the debris of the iron crate and the corpse. Many had died and suffered for it and now it would not even be displayed in the Academie.

Master Equaine could not have the body that challenged his theories left for anyone else’s study, it would be burnt in the grounds of the Academie.  From fire it came and to fire it would return.

The five bowed to each other and parted company, they each left feeling that they had been vindicated and the others would see the truth, hoping all would put aside their incorrect thoughts for the good of the Empire.

Daharis resumed his handling of the Griffens and as they threw themselves skyward, the Mage Othox incanted a small halo of white light about his head to guide him away into Tournelle’s streets whilst pondering the Magicke of the Dracci.

Count Uriens had a mount waiting and rode away back to Lyonesse and the Court, impatient to see what he had missed; his time he thought wasted on a small matter.

The Lady Danielle du Lac walked back to where the Guard of her Order were waiting, she was returning to Alevia and the battle that very night.  Talk was all well and good; she had come and stated the matter as she saw it she could do little more for now, the war against the Dragon would continue regardless.

Webmaster's Notes

This excellent story was first printed in the Summer of 2004 in the story section of the Maelstrome Mass Battle book which details the 2nd Age of Valon, The Age of Wylde Magicke. Its not been seen in this format before, a shorter version is in the published book. It is published here with permission from the author.