Chapter 480: Atlas
…New Moon…Hollow Shade…Northern Gate…
The world shook underneath Freya Goldelm as flames of ivory ignited the night sky to the southwest. The wall’s magestone lost its swirling ebon hue and turned a frosty-translucent. Her House’s soldiers shouted in panic. No one was certain of what had happened, but they all knew it was bad.
Her father, Lord Zorn Goldelm, rallied his troops and calmed down the hysteria within not his own men but the guards of the wall.
“Stop trembling and stand up straight,” Cedric chastised her with a whisper.
Freya felt her face go red. She felt somewhat ashamed that she had let herself be carried away in the panic. Cedric was the second son of House Goldelm and he had spent his life being trained to support their House and their elder brother. In other words, it was Cedric’s job to protect the Goldelm family’s honor, something which Freya had failed to do on multiple occasions, a fact that Cedric never let her forget.
Just one more on the list, Freya sighed to herself.
Cedric had kept himself from appearing afraid when the flames had struck in the distance. For such flames to have been seen, let alone felt this far north, meant the pure power behind the attack had greatly exceeded the strength of any mage.
What sort of being caused it? A dragon?
Freya wasn’t certain.
The only ones who hadn’t panicked whatsoever were a mysterious group of men and women in black cloaks and light steel armor. Battle mages. They held no banner or any insignia to denote their allegiance, but their leader, a drow almost as large as Krall Katag, stated he and his crew were here as special reserve forces. Freya had no idea what that meant, but the Bulwark Commander seemed to know and respect him.
Her father didn’t seem to share such a sentiment. Zorn had tried to interrogate the drow leader when he had arrived, but all Zorn had managed to get out of him was his name, Atlas.
Unlike the rest of the soldiers, Atlas and his battle mages did not cower in fear from the strange magical attack, no, instead their expression grew hard with steely resolve.
As the minutes passed by, a scout came running up the wall, exclaiming how there had been a breach, a molten gate of sorts had formed at the western wall. Monsters of nightmares, each larger than a house, had attacked the wall and destroyed the city’s defensive enchantments.
As if on cue, thousands of torches in the dark grasslands began to move closer. The valley army was on the march.
“Gods dammit all!” Zorn shouted angrily. He tossed on his helmet, that reached low and covered his long blonde beard, and hefted his war hammer onto his shoulder. “Archers! Line up!”
Zorn began firing out orders quicker than the Bulwark Commander. Archers hurried to their positions, while mages prepared their spells, and the remaining soldiers began to prepare a shield wall for incoming arrows.
The only ones who did not listen nor move were the black-cloaked battle mages.
Zorn snarled at them and marched over, “Oi, you lot! What the fuck do you think you’re doing!?”
A few of the battle mages glanced at the dwarf and then at their leader, though none uttered a word.
“Fucking condescending bastards,” Zorn said and spat at Atlas’ feet.
Atlas slightly tilted his head down and looked at the dwarf calmly. “Lord Goldelm, is there a problem?”
“Aye, there is a problem! Our city is under attack and you lot are content to just stand about and do nothing while the enemy storms our gates!” Zorn pointed to the large gate underneath them.
“...Rest assured, Lord Goldelm, we came to defend this city and that is what we will do,” said Atlas without breaking his still expression.
“Are you now? It seems to me that your mages aren’t doing much of anything. What? Do they not know any long-distance spells? Or are they conserving their mana to save their own skins?”
“That is quite the hammer you have.” Atlas glanced pointedly at the war hammer on Zorn’s shoulder.
The head of the hammer was larger than a person’s skull and made of some sort of golden alloy, covered in arcane sigil engravings. The grip was formed of black scales from a deep sea creature, long dead.
“Oginum is the greatest war hammer you’ll ever see,” Zorn patted the hammer proudly, though his glare didn’t dissipate.
“The Light of the North.”
“You know Oginum’s true meaning?” Zorn asked, surprised.
“Oh, I know much more than that. Your ancestral weapon was forged by the realm’s Unifier, the legendary Ebon Lord Koval himself. He was hailed as the greatest mage smith of the Ebon Realm and seeing Oginum up close, I am certain it was not a lie.”
“You know your history well, drow.” Zorn pointed Oginum menacingly at Atlas, “So you should know what will happen when I swing my hammer at you for refusing to obey orders.”
“You do not command me, Lord Goldelm,” he said without a trace of anger.
“No, but everyone stationed on the northern wall must obey their Bulwark Commander, and seeing as she is barking out the same orders as me—”
“I only answer to one and it is neither you nor the Commander.”
Zorn lifted Oginum, ready to strike, “Choose your next words carefully, drow.”
The battlemages immediately turned to Zorn in unison, but Atlas raised his hand for them to stop.
“Dad, what are you doing?!” Freya called out worriedly. The last thing she wanted was a mutiny right before battle.
“Shh!” Cedric pulled his sister back by her shoulder. “Do not embarrass our father by showing our men your lack of resolve,” he whispered harshly.
Freya shook her head, “But if we don’t stop him, he’ll—!”
“Our father doesn’t want to kill him. But he can’t have the men feel like they can just disobey the Bulwark Commander’s orders just because that drow and his mages do,” Cedric explained quietly.
Freya frowned in confusion, “What are you saying?”
“If our soldiers see the mages behaving like cowards without any consequences, what do you think some of them will do when the enemy gets close?” Cedric asked.
“...They’ll run away?” Freya mumbled in understanding.
“Exactly. Our father needs to make a point, one way or another. Now be quiet before you embarrass us any further,” Cedric chastised.
Freya bit her lip but nodded.
“So, what’ll it be, drow?” Zorn asked coldly.
Atlas stared at the golden hammer pointed towards his balls with more calm than any man might. “Oginum was a gift for Koval’s apprentice, Lady Goldelm II. The only weapon that could rival Krikolm, or some say.”
“Another history lesson?” Zorn frowned. “That’s it–!”
“The Light of the North. ‘A fitting title for this night it seems.’ Don’t you agree, Lord Goldelm?”
Zorn froze mid-swing. “What did you say?”
“Do you recognize my words? Your ancestor, Lord Sylas Goldelm spoke them long ago.”
“I know his words,” Zorn growled. “What I want to know is why they are coming out of your mouth!”
Atlas glanced down at Oginum. “When Lady Goldelm II wielded that hammer it reflected the light within her; they say Oginum shined like the sun with power; a beacon amidst the encroaching darkness. For almost seven hundred years Oginum carried the light and will of your ancestors. But not anymore… not since Hollow Shade’s civil war. Not since your House forgot its way. Not since the last true Goldelm, Sylas.”
Zorn glared at him, “How would you know…?”
Atlas leaned down and whispered, “Because I remember the day my friend, Sylas, passed away and his son picked up that hammer.”
Zorn stiffened and his golden eyes widened in shock. “No, you cannot be…! You’re Atlas Thorn?”
“I gave up my father’s surname long ago.”
“How… How are you still alive after all these years?”
Atlas leaned back and cracked a small smile. “My mother’s blood is strong.”
“What? What does that even mean?” Zorn furrowed his brow.
“That is all you need to know. I trust I have your cooperation, Lord Goldelm?”
Zorn nodded begrudgingly, “...Aye, Lord Atlas, aye.” He turned around and glared at all the onlookers, “What are you all staring at!? Back to your positions!”
“Too late,” said Kaitlin, the Singing Willow troupe’s healer, from among the battle mages. She glanced up at the dark clouds. “Captain Atlas?”
“Mm.” The giant drow lifted his hands and channeled Yellow. A powerful gale swirled in front of the wall. Thousands of arrows fell down from the clouds and broke against the storm.
Freya felt her jaw go slack. The sheer scale and power behind such a spell was frightening, it reminded her of the night she had witnessed Lord Elzri battle on Widow’s Crag.
She slowly turned her head to Atlas, a drow taller than any she had met. Where most drows were thin and lithe, his armor did little to hide the rippling muscles beneath.
The shower of arrows died out against the wind. Atlas lowered his arms and the gale dissipated just as quickly as it had formed. Soldiers all across the Northern Wall stared at him in awe and fear.
“The next strike won’t be long, Captain,” noted Kaitlyn.
“I am aware, lieutenant. Prepare to counterattack,” said Atlas.
The battle mages nodded in unison and raised their arms, mana flowing into them. A sudden roar from above broke their concentration.
“TAKE COVER!” Atlas shouted.
A dragonbane swooped down in a flash, its wings outstretched. It tore through the trebuchets with its claws and took to the sky once more. Freya felt a chill run through her body as the beast flew past.
“What in all the bloody realms was that!?” Zorn yelled.
“It wasn’t here for us,” Atlas muttered grimly. “It’s destroying the city’s defenses…”
“Captain, another volley!” Kaitlyn pointed to the sky.
Atlas turned back and channeled Yellow once more.
~~~
Elzri flew above the Commoner District with haste. Clouds of dust covered the neighborhoods of the poor. Boulder after boulder had flown past the wall and crashed into the houses, destroying them in one fell swoop. If that wasn't bad enough, golems made of stone emerged from the boulders and began to kill indiscriminately.
Even from the air, Elzri could hear the wailing of his city’s people in the distance.
The enemy’s army hasn’t even breached the wall yet… he thought bitterly.
What sort of destruction would Marek and his savages release onto the city? And what of the dragonbanes? Would they stop after the commoners were all dead? The merchants? The nobles? How many would die before the night was over?
The molten gate glowed red-hot in the distance, a testament to the city’s failures.
Elzri flew past the district and landed atop the western wall, several hundred paces from the western gate where the dragonbane had attacked them.
Loh rushed to him as soon as he landed. “Grandpa!” she shouted and hugged him fiercely.
Elzri stood stock-still, uncertain of how to respond. He couldn’t remember the last time Loh had held his hand, let alone hugged him. But he could feel the trembling in her shoulders. Slowly, he wrapped his arms around her. “I’m alright,” he whispered into her ear, “I’m alright.”
“We saw dragonbane flying in the sky. We saw your blue flames and then you went down,” Loh mumbled through tears.
“I’m sorry to have worried you,” Elzri said softly.
“You’re bleeding,” Una noted from a few paces away.
“Wha–?” Loh stepped back.
Elzri glanced down at his bloodied torn pant leg. “Not anymore.”
“You’re sure you’re alright, brother?” Una asked with a raised eyebrow.
“I can walk, it’ll do,” Elzri said.
“Please, tell me you killed that thing,” Una said uneasily.
Elzri shook his head, “No. Lady Holo saved me.”
“Good, she’ll kill it then,” Una said with conviction.
“Those monsters… I’ve never seen anything like them,” Elzri muttered. “I attacked it with the azure flames. It burned but it was able to endure the flames enough to strike me out of the sky. And then… it just regenerated after a few moments. I saw the pack of them attack the wall. If I can’t even stop one… how are we supposed to win?”
“They are a mage’s bane, we are not meant to stop them,” Una said.
“But Lady Holo said ordinary weapons don’t work on them either,” added Loh.
“They aren’t immune to magic, they just absorb it, but clearly they can only absorb so much at a time. That’s why Riri’s flames worked against it,” Una explained.
“There are very few mages capable of outputting the magical force of an archmage, especially one as strong as Grandfather,” Loh muttered.
“You’re looking at one,” Una smirked.
“Mom!” Unalla called out. The small drow was walking towards them, dragging the giant sword, Votum, behind her.
“Unalla!? What are you doing over here!? You’re supposed to be with your father at the northern wall!” Una yelled angrily.
“Um, well,” Unalla glanced around anxiously, “Dad’s got the north covered just fine, I bet. The main enemy forces will be pushing through the western and southern walls. I wanted to help…”
Her mother shook her head and clicked her tongue, “And I wanted you with Atlas for that very reason!”
“You wanted me away from the main battle? I can fight!” Una gripped Votum’s handle.
A familiar roar echoed in the night sky above them.
Elzri looked up with wide eyes, “Oh no…”
Frostbird https://discord.gg/uYqw7R6SKz
If you liked the chapter please leave a like, if there is something else you are interested in knowing about the lore, or if you have any questions, remarks, or just want to say hi drop a comment below!
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Chapter 480: Atlas
…New Moon…Hollow Shade…Northern Gate…
The world shook underneath Freya Goldelm as flames of ivory ignited the night sky to the southwest. The wall’s magestone lost its swirling ebon hue and turned a frosty-translucent. Her House’s soldiers shouted in panic. No one was certain of what had happened, but they all knew it was bad.
Her father, Lord Zorn Goldelm, rallied his troops and calmed down the hysteria within not his own men but the guards of the wall.
“Stop trembling and stand up straight,” Cedric chastised her with a whisper.
Freya felt her face go red. She felt somewhat ashamed that she had let herself be carried away in the panic. Cedric was the second son of House Goldelm and he had spent his life being trained to support their House and their elder brother. In other words, it was Cedric’s job to protect the Goldelm family’s honor, something which Freya had failed to do on multiple occasions, a fact that Cedric never let her forget.
Just one more on the list, Freya sighed to herself.
Cedric had kept himself from appearing afraid when the flames had struck in the distance. For such flames to have been seen, let alone felt this far north, meant the pure power behind the attack had greatly exceeded the strength of any mage.
What sort of being caused it? A dragon?
Freya wasn’t certain.
The only ones who hadn’t panicked whatsoever were a mysterious group of men and women in black cloaks and light steel armor. Battle mages. They held no banner or any insignia to denote their allegiance, but their leader, a drow almost as large as Krall Katag, stated he and his crew were here as special reserve forces. Freya had no idea what that meant, but the Bulwark Commander seemed to know and respect him.
Her father didn’t seem to share such a sentiment. Zorn had tried to interrogate the drow leader when he had arrived, but all Zorn had managed to get out of him was his name, Atlas.
Unlike the rest of the soldiers, Atlas and his battle mages did not cower in fear from the strange magical attack, no, instead their expression grew hard with steely resolve.
As the minutes passed by, a scout came running up the wall, exclaiming how there had been a breach, a molten gate of sorts had formed at the western wall. Monsters of nightmares, each larger than a house, had attacked the wall and destroyed the city’s defensive enchantments.
As if on cue, thousands of torches in the dark grasslands began to move closer. The valley army was on the march.
“Gods dammit all!” Zorn shouted angrily. He tossed on his helmet, that reached low and covered his long blonde beard, and hefted his war hammer onto his shoulder. “Archers! Line up!”
Zorn began firing out orders quicker than the Bulwark Commander. Archers hurried to their positions, while mages prepared their spells, and the remaining soldiers began to prepare a shield wall for incoming arrows.
The only ones who did not listen nor move were the black-cloaked battle mages.
Zorn snarled at them and marched over, “Oi, you lot! What the fuck do you think you’re doing!?”
A few of the battle mages glanced at the dwarf and then at their leader, though none uttered a word.
“Fucking condescending bastards,” Zorn said and spat at Atlas’ feet.
Atlas slightly tilted his head down and looked at the dwarf calmly. “Lord Goldelm, is there a problem?”
“Aye, there is a problem! Our city is under attack and you lot are content to just stand about and do nothing while the enemy storms our gates!” Zorn pointed to the large gate underneath them.
“...Rest assured, Lord Goldelm, we came to defend this city and that is what we will do,” said Atlas without breaking his still expression.
“Are you now? It seems to me that your mages aren’t doing much of anything. What? Do they not know any long-distance spells? Or are they conserving their mana to save their own skins?”
“That is quite the hammer you have.” Atlas glanced pointedly at the war hammer on Zorn’s shoulder.
The head of the hammer was larger than a person’s skull and made of some sort of golden alloy, covered in arcane sigil engravings. The grip was formed of black scales from a deep sea creature, long dead.
“Oginum is the greatest war hammer you’ll ever see,” Zorn patted the hammer proudly, though his glare didn’t dissipate.
“The Light of the North.”
“You know Oginum’s true meaning?” Zorn asked, surprised.
“Oh, I know much more than that. Your ancestral weapon was forged by the realm’s Unifier, the legendary Ebon Lord Koval himself. He was hailed as the greatest mage smith of the Ebon Realm and seeing Oginum up close, I am certain it was not a lie.”
“You know your history well, drow.” Zorn pointed Oginum menacingly at Atlas, “So you should know what will happen when I swing my hammer at you for refusing to obey orders.”
“You do not command me, Lord Goldelm,” he said without a trace of anger.
“No, but everyone stationed on the northern wall must obey their Bulwark Commander, and seeing as she is barking out the same orders as me—”
“I only answer to one and it is neither you nor the Commander.”
Zorn lifted Oginum, ready to strike, “Choose your next words carefully, drow.”
The battlemages immediately turned to Zorn in unison, but Atlas raised his hand for them to stop.
“Dad, what are you doing?!” Freya called out worriedly. The last thing she wanted was a mutiny right before battle.
“Shh!” Cedric pulled his sister back by her shoulder. “Do not embarrass our father by showing our men your lack of resolve,” he whispered harshly.
Freya shook her head, “But if we don’t stop him, he’ll—!”
“Our father doesn’t want to kill him. But he can’t have the men feel like they can just disobey the Bulwark Commander’s orders just because that drow and his mages do,” Cedric explained quietly.
Freya frowned in confusion, “What are you saying?”
“If our soldiers see the mages behaving like cowards without any consequences, what do you think some of them will do when the enemy gets close?” Cedric asked.
“...They’ll run away?” Freya mumbled in understanding.
“Exactly. Our father needs to make a point, one way or another. Now be quiet before you embarrass us any further,” Cedric chastised.
Freya bit her lip but nodded.
“So, what’ll it be, drow?” Zorn asked coldly.
Atlas stared at the golden hammer pointed towards his balls with more calm than any man might. “Oginum was a gift for Koval’s apprentice, Lady Goldelm II. The only weapon that could rival Krikolm, or some say.”
“Another history lesson?” Zorn frowned. “That’s it–!”
“The Light of the North. ‘A fitting title for this night it seems.’ Don’t you agree, Lord Goldelm?”
Zorn froze mid-swing. “What did you say?”
“Do you recognize my words? Your ancestor, Lord Sylas Goldelm spoke them long ago.”
“I know his words,” Zorn growled. “What I want to know is why they are coming out of your mouth!”
Atlas glanced down at Oginum. “When Lady Goldelm II wielded that hammer it reflected the light within her; they say Oginum shined like the sun with power; a beacon amidst the encroaching darkness. For almost seven hundred years Oginum carried the light and will of your ancestors. But not anymore… not since Hollow Shade’s civil war. Not since your House forgot its way. Not since the last true Goldelm, Sylas.”
Zorn glared at him, “How would you know…?”
Atlas leaned down and whispered, “Because I remember the day my friend, Sylas, passed away and his son picked up that hammer.”
Zorn stiffened and his golden eyes widened in shock. “No, you cannot be…! You’re Atlas Thorn?”
“I gave up my father’s surname long ago.”
“How… How are you still alive after all these years?”
Atlas leaned back and cracked a small smile. “My mother’s blood is strong.”
“What? What does that even mean?” Zorn furrowed his brow.
“That is all you need to know. I trust I have your cooperation, Lord Goldelm?”
Zorn nodded begrudgingly, “...Aye, Lord Atlas, aye.” He turned around and glared at all the onlookers, “What are you all staring at!? Back to your positions!”
“Too late,” said Kaitlin, the Singing Willow troupe’s healer, from among the battle mages. She glanced up at the dark clouds. “Captain Atlas?”
“Mm.” The giant drow lifted his hands and channeled Yellow. A powerful gale swirled in front of the wall. Thousands of arrows fell down from the clouds and broke against the storm.
Freya felt her jaw go slack. The sheer scale and power behind such a spell was frightening, it reminded her of the night she had witnessed Lord Elzri battle on Widow’s Crag.
She slowly turned her head to Atlas, a drow taller than any she had met. Where most drows were thin and lithe, his armor did little to hide the rippling muscles beneath.
The shower of arrows died out against the wind. Atlas lowered his arms and the gale dissipated just as quickly as it had formed. Soldiers all across the Northern Wall stared at him in awe and fear.
“The next strike won’t be long, Captain,” noted Kaitlyn.
“I am aware, lieutenant. Prepare to counterattack,” said Atlas.
The battle mages nodded in unison and raised their arms, mana flowing into them. A sudden roar from above broke their concentration.
“TAKE COVER!” Atlas shouted.
A dragonbane swooped down in a flash, its wings outstretched. It tore through the trebuchets with its claws and took to the sky once more. Freya felt a chill run through her body as the beast flew past.
“What in all the bloody realms was that!?” Zorn yelled.
“It wasn’t here for us,” Atlas muttered grimly. “It’s destroying the city’s defenses…”
“Captain, another volley!” Kaitlyn pointed to the sky.
Atlas turned back and channeled Yellow once more.
~~~
Elzri flew above the Commoner District with haste. Clouds of dust covered the neighborhoods of the poor. Boulder after boulder had flown past the wall and crashed into the houses, destroying them in one fell swoop. If that wasn't bad enough, golems made of stone emerged from the boulders and began to kill indiscriminately.
Even from the air, Elzri could hear the wailing of his city’s people in the distance.
The enemy’s army hasn’t even breached the wall yet… he thought bitterly.
What sort of destruction would Marek and his savages release onto the city? And what of the dragonbanes? Would they stop after the commoners were all dead? The merchants? The nobles? How many would die before the night was over?
The molten gate glowed red-hot in the distance, a testament to the city’s failures.
Elzri flew past the district and landed atop the western wall, several hundred paces from the western gate where the dragonbane had attacked them.
Loh rushed to him as soon as he landed. “Grandpa!” she shouted and hugged him fiercely.
Elzri stood stock-still, uncertain of how to respond. He couldn’t remember the last time Loh had held his hand, let alone hugged him. But he could feel the trembling in her shoulders. Slowly, he wrapped his arms around her. “I’m alright,” he whispered into her ear, “I’m alright.”
“We saw dragonbane flying in the sky. We saw your blue flames and then you went down,” Loh mumbled through tears.
“I’m sorry to have worried you,” Elzri said softly.
“You’re bleeding,” Una noted from a few paces away.
“Wha–?” Loh stepped back.
Elzri glanced down at his bloodied torn pant leg. “Not anymore.”
“You’re sure you’re alright, brother?” Una asked with a raised eyebrow.
“I can walk, it’ll do,” Elzri said.
“Please, tell me you killed that thing,” Una said uneasily.
Elzri shook his head, “No. Lady Holo saved me.”
“Good, she’ll kill it then,” Una said with conviction.
“Those monsters… I’ve never seen anything like them,” Elzri muttered. “I attacked it with the azure flames. It burned but it was able to endure the flames enough to strike me out of the sky. And then… it just regenerated after a few moments. I saw the pack of them attack the wall. If I can’t even stop one… how are we supposed to win?”
“They are a mage’s bane, we are not meant to stop them,” Una said.
“But Lady Holo said ordinary weapons don’t work on them either,” added Loh.
“They aren’t immune to magic, they just absorb it, but clearly they can only absorb so much at a time. That’s why Riri’s flames worked against it,” Una explained.
“There are very few mages capable of outputting the magical force of an archmage, especially one as strong as Grandfather,” Loh muttered.
“You’re looking at one,” Una smirked.
“Mom!” Unalla called out. The small drow was walking towards them, dragging the giant sword, Votum, behind her.
“Unalla!? What are you doing over here!? You’re supposed to be with your father at the northern wall!” Una yelled angrily.
“Um, well,” Unalla glanced around anxiously, “Dad’s got the north covered just fine, I bet. The main enemy forces will be pushing through the western and southern walls. I wanted to help…”
Her mother shook her head and clicked her tongue, “And I wanted you with Atlas for that very reason!”
“You wanted me away from the main battle? I can fight!” Una gripped Votum’s handle.
A familiar roar echoed in the night sky above them.
Elzri looked up with wide eyes, “Oh no…”
Frostbird https://discord.gg/uYqw7R6SKz
If you liked the chapter please leave a like, if there is something else you are interested in knowing about the lore, or if you have any questions, remarks, or just want to say hi drop a comment below!
Check out the glossary for more info on characters, lore, magic, and more!
