VI:II

Theris and his Men

Maldor, squire of Theris Duranan, stood nervously near the head of the main column, the large rows of men stirring quietly behind him. Fifteen minutes have passed since his Lord and the leaders of House Tybris met on the center field. There were times when heated words were exchanged, and Maldor could almost hear the words that were carried by the breaths of wind. He clung tightly to Baetor, the masterwork sword of House Duranan, and watched anxiously. Never had he seen a battle—and never did he think that his first battle would be one of such colossal size. Not since the Ogre Campaigns have men assembled in such great numbers, and Maldor had heard that there were other such battles raging across the lands of Riverman. When first he heard these rumors, he had felt a rush of excitement—a battle to claim honor and glory! But now, as he gazed upon the sharp tips of spears, the point of arrows, and the edge of swords, a very sudden and very sharp pang of fear had wallowed up in his stomach, and he could not help be shake in fright for the death that may come to him this day. He hoped that the coldness of the wind would cloak his fear.

At last, there was a resolution reached between the great Lords, for now the participants in the negotiations rode back to their respective lines. Lord Theris had a dark and grim look upon his face.

“What news, m’lord?” asked the captain of the main column.

Lord Theris face was paler than usual, and he hesitated before answer strongly, “Grim, Captain Heronus. There will be war today.” Lord Theris urged his mount near Maldor. Maldor kneeled reverently, as if to bless the sword he carried, before he stood upright and splayed the sword and sheath between his arms. Theris looked at the sword as if it was a viper ready to strike. The hilt had the form of dragons dancing amongst each other, and the sheath was made of heavy iron bearing the heads of lions ready to pounce, with ornate columns of an ancient story etched lovingly on its surface. Theris whispered a prayer to Draenis before he took Baetor up in his gloved hand.

“So old friend… it seems that fate will not have us long apart. I fear that it is time for you to protect me once again.”

He put the sword within the folds of the saddle and looked up. They eyes of his men were upon him: thousands of faces filled with wondering and anticipation. Theris looked at them for but a moment, thousands of thoughts crossing his mind, before he became determined and addressed the people.

“My friends… today, we fight!”

He paused to see their reactions. Some had a look of resolution in their faces. Some had the look of indomitability. Theris envied each and every one of them. “For many of you, this is not the first time we have fought together! In the freezing winter, high up in the northern mountains, we have faced a great foe: the ogre-men of the frozen wastes! Their arms were strong, their numbers were many, their weapons were perilous; together we had faced the demon of defeat, and the greatest horror of the mountain folk! Together we had scaled those snow-capped mountains, faced the bitter winter, and marched on in resolution with nothing but dry oats to fill our bellies!

“And in that moment, four years ago, with the terrible ogre on the field of battle with their evil strength and dreadful force, we had only the spirit of Draenor and the company of our brethren to shield us from the abyss of death!

“Men! Here I stand! Here I stand! We defeated the freezing winter! We defeated the snow-capped mountains! And we defeated the great horror of the mountain folk—their evil strength and their dreadful force—with only the spirit of Draenor and the company of our brethren to shield us from the abyss of death! Your stout hearts, your strong sword arm, and your intrepid spirit won us victory over evil! Your brothers won you your lives! I do not fear for our future, for these are the very same brothers who stand with you today!”

The men were stirred at his words, and pride filled their hearts.

“This day, we are called to action, for once again a force threatens our lands. Once again, the shadow of war hangs over our farms, our families, and our country-folk. But now that threat does not take its form in the ogre-men. Look upon that army! They are that shadow. The men set before you mean to take your lands, your lives, your freedom! What say you, my friends? Do we let the invader march in our lands unchecked, free to kill our brothers, our mothers, our wives—our kin?

“Our purpose here is a noble one. Four years ago, we fought together—shoulder to shoulder—in the name of our lord and King. Today, we fight for ourselves, our honor, and our freedom!

“Again, I say, my friends… today we fight!”