An Age of Wrath - Chapter I

It was Juileth and her unforgiving chain-whip; at its end was fastened a large, sharp metal disk.

"Move!" she commanded to the relieved Westor.

The three raced through the bush, behind them and seemingly all around they heard the war cries of the red orcs as they trampled towards the scouts. "We’ll never make it," cried Levi as he held his twin rapiers before him. "We have to!" Juileth growled as she nimbly darted past them.

They the saw the breaking of the trees, and that the sky had grown to a deep purple as the night had begun to set in. They looked up as they heard the thumping of drawstrings and witnessed the heavens alit with flaming arrows. "Oh my Father-Mother!" cried Westor as he realized that the arrows were not shot for them, but rather for the two companions they had left behind by the road.

The three watched from a distance as the two scouts mounted their horses and tried to escape. The first of the two scouts fell before he was able to gain a few feet as his horse went ablaze with several arrows. Three more arrows found their mark and he fell dead pinned beneath his horse. The second scout raced further, but was eventually caught in the unholy volley of fire.

"Damn!" Juileth cried. She looked over and saw her horse, Venom waiting anxiously for her mistress. "Westor, my horse is fastest. Ride to the Red and warn them. Be quick for death flies steady tonight!"

Bewildered, Westor looked at the Widow Maker and asked; "But what will you do, captain?"

"I’ll buy you what time I can here."

Levi looked over to Juileth and nodded. "Aye."

Westor then ran for the horse, which only reluctantly bore him. Venom looked over to Juileth as if she could not believe she was to leave her mistress behind. Westor glimpsed back to his captain and tried a vain smile; it would be the last time he ever saw her. He then turned and rode with a vengeance.

Juileth held her mighty whip and without looking over at Levi she rasped harshly: "Are you ready?" Levi nodded in return

What seemed like an ocean of red orcs had begun to pour out of the wood, and with a fury not unlike that of a great sea tempest they crashed towards the two lone warriors who stood waiting under the vast purple sky.

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Marly could hardly believe his eyes. He had heard the tales of the Skeleton King before, who rode a sinister black stallion through the night, his head ablaze in hell-fire. He would throw at you the burning head of his victims it was said. Marly knew traveling with the Wolves of the Red would hold for him a myriad of wonders, but he never expected to see this.

"Dear Father-Mother!" Haxal cried as he pulled the reigns of his horses and signaled a desperate stop. The covered wagons rumbled to a violent halt and Haxal began to cry for his commander. Marly still sat with terrified wonder as he gazed at the incoming Skeleton King of lore.

"Get up you idiot boy!" Haxal cried to Marly. "Get up and come to arms!"

Marly blinked and shot out of his seat. Ravendorn had already burst out of the back of the wagon. "What devils lay before us that we should have to stop like this?" shouted the Red. Before Haxal or Marly could answer his eyes locked to the horseman alit in flames racing towards them. Even in the dark Ravendorn could recognize Venom’s stride. "Gods woman, don’t tell me you let anyone lesser than the Devil himself get the drop on ye." He muttered softly.

The horseman began to flail his arms madly before him and all were then able to recognize him at once. "Holy Father-Mother, that’s Westor!" cried Kallus.