wind. He searched for survivors—he prayed for them—but he saw nothing in the sea of advancing soldiers.
He turned to face the huge army of nightmares and their ghosts ahead of him, and screamed. His terror turned to rage, and finally, he drew his sword.
A flash lit up the sky. Yellow-green bolts of magic snatched Cardoon soldiers off horses one by one. War machines launched more boulders into the skies. Roars and screeches pierced Pim’s ears.
The largest armies in all of Athora clashed.
Cardoon cavalry raged into waves of creatures wielding clubs, axes, and pole arms, riding atop scaly beasts with forked tongues, and teeth the size of sabers.
Tolan galloped a straight line into their thick numbers. He lobbed the head off the first thing that came into his line of sight. The head spun through the air and its familiar screeched and vanished into the mist-shrouded ether.
Enemy mages hurled green fire and energy bolts, incinerating men and beast where they stood. Tolan slung his dagger and nailed the one highest on the catapult before him. The blade caught the creature in the throat, toppling him to the ground.
Drith led his war wagons to the right of the Cardoon cavalry, and joined the fray. His Southern warriors launched a hail of spears into the air, plunging them through the feral creatures, spilling ebony blood, and dissipating their familiar spirits.
Northern foot soldiers took up the rear, and, circling around them, the ministers of Gwythroth teleported into battle.
The enemy creatures and their reptilian steeds raged, pushing onward against the collected forces, fighting to stay on their path. Axes and clubs swung hard, bashing soldiers from their horses, smashing faces, breaking necks, shattering jaws.
Spirits clawed at horses and dragged men to the ground, lashing with spindly, pale fingers.
Reptilian mounts overturned Southern wagons, ripped into painted flesh, and swung their tails, cracking ribs, busting shields, and stomping the fallen.
Tolan swung his bastard sword across throats, splitting armor from gullet to gut. His blade was smeared with black, oily blood.
Pim had yet to swing his sword. He sat, frozen, on the back of Tolan’s horse, heart pounding in his chest, sweat rolling down the back of his neck. A rider stormed them, and Tolan reared back on his horse. A stone axe swung, and missed Pim’s face by inches. Tolan took up his shield as the axe swung again, and blocked it. Ghostly arms slithered through the shield, and slashed at Tolan’s face, brushing his cheeks.
The warrior leaned back, just out of the spirit’s reach. The thing howled, and its master grunted, pulling back its axe. Its broken teeth were covered in spittle; hairy-knuckled claws curled around the axe handle.
Suddenly Pim lunged, seizing his opportunity. He plunged his blade deep into the monster’s belly. The thing hissed and spat before going limp. It toppled from its steed. The spirit vanished with a scream.
“Well done!” Tolan cried.
Pim trembled all over, staring at his blood-slicked blade. Suddenly, the rider’s reptilian beast bit into Tolan’s horse, ripping into its throat, and sending them all crashing to the ground.
Pim and Tolan rolled in the dirt. A horde of enemy creatures descended on them, familiars cackling with glee.
The reptile climbed over Tolan, snapping its jaws at his face. The warrior scrambled for his sword, and whipped it across the big lizard.
The beast’s throat tore open, and it fell over with a thunderous crash.
Clubs and claws came down on Pim, but the young Wivering flipped to his feet and launched into his fleet. In the blink of an eye, he spun around the three creatures advancing on him, and cut the back of their knees open.
All three went down, and turned to look behind them, searching for the illusive Wivering. Pim was now in front, cutting each of their chests open. Flailing spirits grew confused, slashing at the air until their masters died, and they vanished in puffs of mist.
Another creature raced toward Pim, a spear in its grip. Pim dashed out of the way, dodging the attack, and watching as the thing impaled one its brethren.
Tolan jumped to his feet as Pim came to a stop. The warrior focused and finally set eyes on the Wivering. “Do not get too full of yourself! Behind you!”
Pim turned too late as a creature plowed into him, sending him down. Pim’s sword flew from his grip. An axe came down just beside his ear. He scrambled for the shield of a fallen comrade, grabbing it just in time for the axe to come down on