The New Gods (Part I)

Goram clung tightly to the harness around the wyvern’s neck. The was a strong headwind today, and the fur cap pulled tightly over his ears was in danger of blowing off. They had been flying for a long time now, and it was late in the afternoon. The forested hills beneath them cast shadows, and displayed plainly the contour of the land, a feature that was not so evident at midday from this high above the ground. Farmers’ cottages were scattered in the valleys and flatter parts of the land, and each one was surrounded by several neatly-cultivated fields.

To the northwest, he could see a large stone keep, built on the crown of one of the highest hills. Roads snaked away from the keep and down the hill, extending through the forests and valleys, and branching apart until each of them met a farmhouse. Two wider roads led to the northwest and to the south, and he noticed that the northwestern road would be right along their course. He did not want to cause alarm to any people that might be in the keep, and he slowly let down his mental shield until he sensed that the wyvern understood his concern.

The wyvern hesitated, and Goram could sense that he was thinking about the blue streamer tied to his tail again with some measure of annoyance. He carefully reminded the wyvern that the streamer was not a mark of ownership and only served to keep the people below from becoming alarmed upon seeing the huge beast overhead. Even so, people were nevertheless afraid of wyverns, and it was a good idea to try to avoid large centers of population. It was very important to be careful when asking wyverns to do things, as getting into an argument with one was destined to failure, and often involved being eaten.

The wyvern turned right and started on a course that would take them north of the castle, to the main road that led northwest. Goram suggested that it would be a good idea to fly lower, and parallel to the main road, and he was relieved that the wyvern had no objections. They dove down, and Goram saw, in a brief moment, the sheer beauty of this wild and enormous, yet graceful beast as it dove and twisted through the air above the hills of forests and farmland.

* * *

He was twenty years old and was already skilled at building clocks, spyglasses, compasses, and other tools with intricate parts. His father had apprenticed him to a gnomish clockmaker, who despite his title made all sorts of other useful tools, as well as jewelry if he needed the money.

Initially his master treated him as though he would never amount to anything, since he was just a human. Gnomes, with their nimble fingers and great attention to detail, were constantly characterizing humans as bumbling oafs who could barely tie their shoes. However it soon became apparent that this was not the case with Goram, whom his master soon took to calling “human on the outside, but a gnome where it counts.” In a few short years, Goram learned to make tools that, while often not as detailed superficially, actually performed as well as or better than those of his master.

According to customs in the city of Alantia, he couldn’t start his own business until he reached the age of 21. Since he couldn’t work on his own anyway, he stayed an apprentice until he came of age, despite the fact that he was surpassing his master’s abilities.

He had become interested in insects, of all things. The creatures were alive and yet so tiny, save for a few varieties of giant wasps and spiders that could grow as large as a man or bigger. There were varieties of insects that were barely large enough to see with his jeweler’s loupe, and Goram was sure that there were creatures smaller still. Perhaps they were even intelligent, and he could learn to communicate with them.

For several weeks during his spare time, he worked on a system of lenses that could be used to magnify something to any possible size. His master allowed him to use any available lenses and tubes, since he needed a stronger magnifying tool to look for defects in watch parts and small gems. Soon the device was built, and by adjusting the lenses Goram could magnify an object as much as he wanted to.

He immediately brought in some decaying leaves and put them in his contraption. He looked through the eyepiece, and adjusted the lens until it was clear. Sure enough, he could see tiny white creatures crawling on the leaves. He magnified it more. The tiny white creatures were more clear now. They were actually very small wingless insects. Very interesting. He could see some even smaller creatures that were a silver color moving around too. He magnified the lens more. Just as he was adjusting the lens to where he would be able to make out the detail of the silver creatures, the scene lost focus. He lessened the magnification, and the scene was clear again, but whenever he tried to look closer, it lost focus again. After that, he tried several more combinations of lenses, but always with the same result.

Throughout the rest of his apprenticeship, Goram tried everything else he could think of, trying to magnify things smaller than he had, even though his gut feeling was that it was impossible. He tried different light sources, both magical and mundane. He tried using different colors of light. He tried using different materials for his lenses. But nothing ever worked. He finally gave up after he left his apprenticeship and no longer had the equipment to work with.

* * *

They flew on past the farms, over a herd of deer that was immediately spooked and ran for cover. He would have liked to converse with the wyvern who was doubtless quite intelligent, but wyverns are solitary creatures and have no desire for social interaction.

After some time, they began to see farm cottages again, and it was clear that there was another center of civilization ahead on this road. Down below, a farmer was trying to calm down his horses, who had seen the wyvern and were spooked by him.

Wyverns had incredible endurance, but even they would grow tired flying into the wind all day. Goram sensed that, and reassured him that they would stop soon for the night. Far up ahead, he spotted a vendor’s wagon that had parked along a crossroad. He could see several animal carcasses hanging from a rack, and a few women around the wagon that appeared to be buying food for dinner.

Good, a place to buy food for both of us…just a few people around, not enough to start a mass panic, he thought. As they came closer, he could see the people pointing and talking and trying to calm down their horses that were tied to nearby trees. He suggested to the wyvern that they land near here, but far enough away to avoid blowing dust all over the food that was for sale.

The wyvern complied, probably because he expected dinner shortly, and they set down on the main road, about half a kilometer from the market wagon. Goram stayed on the wyvern’s back, as it could run faster than he could, and soon the market wagon came into view up ahead around a bend in the road. As expected, the portly vendor and the half-dozen women around the wagon were excitedly talking among themselves and pointing at the wyvern and the mage sitting atop him. He quickly signaled the wyvern to stay back, then dismounted and ran up ahead to reassure these people that there was nothing to be afraid of.

“He’s with me! Don’t worry!”, he shouted a few times as he came within earshot of the group.

“Who are you!? What in blazes is that creature!?”, the vendor shouted back.

“He’s my companion, a wyvern, from the southern Dragonback Mountains.” He lowered his voice as he came closer, and finally stopped in front of the wagon. The group was somewhat less anxious now, and was glancing from the wyvern to Goram and back again. None of them had seen a wyvern before, which was to be expected in these parts.

He tried to calm down the group as well as he could, but being a mage made him a target for suspicion by itself, and he knew that having the wyvern with him didn’t help. Despite the fear that was evident in them, he had to admit that he enjoyed teaching people about things that they would otherwise never know about.

“My name is Goram.”, he quickly explained. The group was at a loss for words, and just listened. “I come from the south, from Alantia. I am on a journey. We mean no harm and only intend to pass through.” He began to project a feeling of calm around him, careful to make it come on gradually, so as not to cause anyone to suspect he had psionic abilities.

“Is there a reason you stopped here?”, a woman asked. The group was already noticeably calmer. “What do you want?”

“I need a place to spend the night, and dinner for myself and my companion.” Goram was careful not to say that the wyvern belonged to him, since wyverns have very good hearing and never would allow themselves to be thought of as belonging to any man.

Nobody appeared to want to offer him a place to sleep, but that was just as well, he had become accustomed to sleeping outdoors. He noticed that one of the women appeared to want to leave, and then realized that she wasn’t leaving because she would have to go past the wyvern. Goram motioned to him to move out of the road, which he did, whereupon the woman started to leave, walking on the opposite side of the road as the wyvern. She was careful not to take an eye off the great beast though, who was three meters high even crouched down with his wings folded up.

Goram turned back to the vendor. His wagon was mostly full of mundane supplies that would interest farmers, things like food, knives, candles, soap, cloth, and steel farm tools. A horse that he assumed belonged to the vendor was tied nearby to a tree. It had become less scared of the giant brown dragon-like beast crouched by the side of the road and had resumed eating what little grass it hadn’t already eaten, but it still wouldn’t turn its back to the wyvern.

“Can I purchase those two goats?”, he asked, motioning to the carcasses that were hanging on the rack. “And also a kilogram of jerky, three potatoes, three apples, and a piece of cheese.”, he added, switching from asking a question to stating precisely what he wanted.

“That’ll be three gold, eight silver.”, the vendor said tersely. Goram reached into the pouch and pulled out some coins. It was a lot to charge, and the vendor knew it, but Goram had plenty more where that came from and he didn’t see any point in haggling. Besides, it would raise the vendor’s opinion of all mages if he knew that they were not cheap. Goram handed the vendor four gold coins, and stopped him when he went to get change.

“You can keep it.”, he said, “For your trouble.” The vendor was pleased to hear this, and became a bit more talkative.

“Adrian’s the name.”, the vendor said as he wrapped up the smaller pieces of Goram’s purchase. “Sometimes around here we’ll see a young dragon. Green ones mostly, and they’re usually not much bigger than turkeys. Never saw anything that size before though.” He unhooked one of the goats and handed it to Goram. “There aren’t many magi in these parts. I know there are druids in the forests, but they leave us alone and they don’t like to be seen anyway. There’re a few clerics, just like anywhere, and sometimes a traveling mage will come by, give a show, sell some potions, enchanted jewelry, that sort of thing. So what brings you to these parts?”

“I’m on a journey, to the north.”, he said, careful not to say precisely where, lest the vendor become more worried. But Adrian kept talking as he took down the other goat, and followed Goram toward where the wyvern was sitting.

“What’s up there that’d you’d want to go see? There’s just the Freshwater Seas and mammoths and snow orcs.” The “snow orcs” he had referred to were a race of tall, muscular men, with white hair covering most of their bodies, that lived in the tundra, and anyone who actually saw one would see that they aren’t orcs. The vendor obviously knew about the rest of the world only through rumors, which made it even more important that he not know more details of Goram’s journey.

“I’m going to collect some flowers and mushrooms, and bring them back to Alantia to study. They’re useless if they’re too old though, which is why I’m riding a wyvern instead of a horse.”, he said, while simultaneously exuding a subtle aura of trustworthiness. It was dishonest, he knew, but he was certain he didn’t want the vendor to become suspicious, and he knew that Araia, the goddess he prayed to, wouldn’t object to his dishonesty in a situation like this.

He offered the goat to the wyvern, who snatched it up in his talon and bit the front half of it off. The vendor was taken aback by this show of strength, but Goram purposefully paid little notice of it and pulled out his dagger. The dagger was serrated along one edge, and he knew by the vendor’s expression, that he could tell that it was made of adamantium. He began to cut one of the goat’s hind legs off. The dagger quickly cut through the bone to the other side. He gave the vendor the leg and took the rest of the goat to the wyvern, who had finished the first goat by this time. He held it out and the wyvern quickly snatched it away and bit off its head. He was a bit less hungry and was eating this one more slowly. The vendor asked the inevitable question:

“Where’d you get the dagger?”

“My father worked with adamantium. He had the opportunity to make himself a dagger once, and he took it. He gave it to me after he retired and he no longer needed it.” There was no reason not to tell the truth this time. Adamantium daggers were looked at as somewhat of a status symbol. When adamantium was used, it was usually on the tip of a spear or the edge of a sword, and practically nothing was made of solid adamantium. Goram suspected that he would have been charged more than five gold if the vendor had seen the dagger before he made his purchase.

“Well consider yourself lucky, and don’t let that out of your sight in any taverns around here.”

“Thank you, and yes, I know its value and I keep it on me at all times.” Maybe Goram didn’t look like he was eighty years old, but he didn’t see why people fifteen years his junior felt the need to give him advice. He certainly looked as though he was middle-aged at least, and he was no boy. But the man was only trying to be helpful.

“Thank you sir, perhaps I’ll see you again on your way back.” The vendor handed the goat leg to Goram and walked back to his cart, where two women and a young boy were waiting and staring at the wyvern. He doubted that he would be coming back, but he just thanked the man again.

As the wyvern finished the second goat, Goram put the food in his pack, then slung it over his shoulder. As the people stared, he followed the wyvern into the forest to set up camp for the night.

* * *

Although he didn’t dislike his work, Goram was feeling restless. He had worked for five years, and amassed a small fortune selling spyglasses, sextants, clocks, and compasses to sailors in the port city of Savano. Sailors immediately saw the quality of his workmanship and would pay whatever price he asked for the tools he made. His parents thought that it was time for him to think about getting married, but he really didn’t want a family to look after just yet. Besides, though he didn’t like to admit it, he was terribly nervous around women his age.

He had been buying different minerals and salts in his spare time and mixing them to observe the reactions. He had often thought of becoming an alchemist, but he didn’t particularly care for any of the alchemists he knew, and didn’t like the thought of being apprenticed to one.

During the slow times when there were no ships in the harbor, Goram also talked with an enchanter whose shop was next to his own. Week after week the enchanter was able to convince him to buy potions and magic trinkets that he had no need for. He could never figure out how the enchanter managed to do it, but somehow he always did.

Finally one day he confronted the enchanter with a bottle of “Bear Scare”, a potion that was guaranteed to keep bears away.

“I bought this yesterday, and I know there’s absolutely no way I’d ever use it!”, Goram said indignantly. “And yet somehow you were able to convince me to buy it!”

“I’m sorry you’ve changed your mind”, the enchanter told him, “but nothing out of the ordinary is going on. You go to visit your family in Alantia every year, and even though you’ve never seen a bear, I know for a fact that there are plenty of bears in these forests. Two gold pieces is nothing for a potion that could save your life.”

He immediately realized that the enchanter was right and he felt sorry for accusing his friend of deceiving him. Besides bears could be … Goram was hit by a sudden realization.

“STOP THAT!”, he shouted at the top of his voice. He startled the enchanter, and immediately his feeling of remorse at his accusations was gone, and he was angry. The enchanter finally admitted he had been caught.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”, he blurted out. Goram could sense by his voice that he was scared. “My daughter is getting married next month and I needed the money, I’m sorry, please forgive me!” He sounded truly repentant, and although Goram was still angry, he was comforted by the fact that he knew his mind wasn’t being manipulated anymore. His anger soon faded, and he realized that he had to learn this skill so as to keep people from toying with his mind again. After all, the next time he could be out more than a handful of gold.

“I forgive you.”, he said, and immediately the enchanter’s expression became less upset. “But you must teach me this. I need to understand how to control my mind, so no one can do this to me again.” The enchanter agreed repeatedly.

“Yes, yes, of course!”

“And I will give back the things I bought but have no use for, and you can keep the money.” Goram did feel sorry for the man, who had three daughters and three weddings to pay for. The enchanter immediately agreed to test him for latent psionic powers.

* * *

There weren’t many houses close by, and tinder and dry wood in the forest was plentiful. After gathering a small pile of sticks and dry leaves, Goram held out his hand, and a small flame appeared slightly above his palm. He tossed the flame into the pile, where it ignited the tinder and soon engulfed it. He put some more firewood on and set up his blankets on the ground while he ate one of the apples. He filled up his water skin and a small pot at a creek nearby, and covered the pot and put it on the fire.

He stuck his dagger into the bone of the goat leg, and held it over the fire. He couldn’t put the dagger into the meat, since adamantium had the odd property of not being able to become hot once it was forged. This made it impossible to work with once it was formed, and although it made a nice skewer since it wouldn’t burn his hand, if he put it in the meat there would be a raw part all around it when he took it off.

The water came to a boil and he tossed in the three potatoes then put the lid back on. His arm became tired from holding the meat, so he propped it up with a piece of firewood. He looked over at the wyvern, who was curled up with his wings wrapped around him, looking almost like a gigantic scaly dog. Goram made sure that this thought was guarded from the wyvern.

It was dark out when Goram finished his meal, not so dark that you couldn’t see where you were going, but just dark enough that you probably wouldn’t be able to recognize anyone by sight alone unless they were quite close to you. The wyvern was asleep by now. The stars were out overhead and the crescent moon was shining through the trees here and there. Goram tossed some more wood onto the fire, laid down between the blankets, and went to sleep.

* * *

Goram was strong-willed with some magical potential, although it was hard to say how much. He hadn’t ever thought much about magic. It had seemed to be mostly for show, without much practical purpose, at least in his experience. But this, he knew, would help him. Whenever he and the enchanter both had some spare time, he trained his mind.

His teacher would give off an emotional aura, and Goram had to sense it. The auras became weaker and weaker, and Goram had to focus more and more in order to sense it. Finally the enchanter stopped exuding any aura at all and just thought of an emotion.

It took a long time, but Goram finally was able to lock in on his teacher’s mind and feel the thoughts running through his head. At first they were vague and nebulous, as though he were trying to guess the identity of a group of small objects by feeling them through a heavy blanket. The more he practiced though, the more defined the thoughts were in his mind, until he was able to understand his teacher’s instructions through thought alone. Actually, once this was accomplished he was able to learn much faster, as it was often hard to put into words the things that he needed to do. He learned to place thoughts directly into the enchanter’s mind and exude an aura around himself that would affect the emotions of anyone near him.

Finally he was able to sense when his thoughts were being probed, something that was surprisingly difficult if he wasn’t watching for it. He learned to form a mental barrier that would block out anyone trying to read his thoughts, but he often let his guard down when he was doing something else. He practiced that whenever he had some spare time, and after two years, he had learned all he wanted to know about psionic phenomena.

It was about this time that the event happened that began the next series of events in his life. He was 28 years old, and his parents’ suggestions that he marry and settle down became more and more insistent. He was quite certain that this was not something he wanted to do, at least not just yet. He continued his work in his shop in Savano, and the money he made kept on accumulating. He wasn’t sure what he would do with it all.

He had been mixing various salts and minerals in his spare time and was reading books on alchemy when he got the chance. He was seeing a pattern in the way they reacted with each other. Each salt seemed to consist of two parts, which could be recombined to form other salts. Each part had a particular strength with which it attracted its other half. He had been compiling a list of the different reactions and the strengths of the parts of each salt, which could be obtained by mixing them together and observing whether a reaction took place. Sometimes metal flakes would spontaneously come out of the solution, and sometimes the solution would bubble. Despite the fact that this appeared relatively dull, he found it to be more interesting than magical potions for some reason. Mixing salts wasn’t magical at all, but yet somehow it was.

Most of his customers were sailors, but occasionally a group of travelers would stop in, wanting a compass or a spyglass or a pocket watch. But one cold day in early spring one of his customers surprised him. She was a woman in her mid twenties, and at first glance Goram thought she was somewhat silly-looking. She carried a small pouch at her right and a short sword at her left. She was wearing a suit of leather armor with a ring mail vest. The leather cap she was wearing had a reinforced strip in the middle of it that covered the bridge of her nose. Despite that, the armor she was wearing fit her like a glove, and revealed that she had a fine figure under that armor. Goram made sure to guard his mind, just in case.

She wanted a compass, as hers had just been stolen, and she traveled a lot so she would use it all the time. Goram brought out his collection of compasses, and she immediately picked one up. He thought that that particular compass was among the best he had ever made and told her so. She smiled and thanked him and took off her helmet to get a better look at it. His heart skipped a beat. She was beautiful. Her dark brown hair was pinned up at the back of her head, and she had some of the prettiest eyes he had ever seen. His palms were sweaty and he became very nervous all of a sudden. He chided himself. Of all the things to be scared of, why does it have to be pretty girls? She wasn’t paying attention to him at the moment though, and he used the opportunity to take a quick peek at her thoughts. Interesting, she was impressed by his workmanship and she had a favorable opinion toward him. He turned on the charm. Or more precisely, his aura of likeability. He couldn’t take any chances. He took a deep breath and struck up a conversation with her.

Her name was Kyria, and she had spent most of her life traveling. Her father was never very successful and was constantly changing his mind about what he wanted to do. Her mother worked odd jobs wherever she could, although between them they had done a fairly good job as parents, according to her. She was, as he had suspected, a courier, and she had come from the southwest, through goblin territory, with a message for the mayor. She had just been paid after delivering the message, and she planned on buying some new supplies now. Thankfully the goblins had only bothered her once, during the night, although they made off with most of her food and her compass. She was a skilled forager though, and made it to the city on time without any difficulties. Goram invited her to have dinner with him.

* * *

Goram awoke. For a brief moment he couldn't remember where he was. Dew had covered the entire campsite, and his skin and his blankets were cold, damp, and clammy. He opened his eyes and saw the sunlight playing through the trees and casting little spots of brightness all around him. Fortune was on his side again today, and the weather looked to be favorable for another day.

He pushed the blankets off and allowed the morning chill to permeate his body just a little before getting up to prepare breakfast. The remnants of the fire from the night before left a black and gray streak on the forest floor. Upon closer examination, the pattern of ash showed precisely how the flames had battled the pervasive cold dampness during the night, before finally succumbing to it and dying. Goram felt oddly sympathetic toward the fire, burning alone during the night with no chance of surviving until sunrise. It was a metaphor for much of his life, he felt, but not today.

Within minutes the fire was roaring again, and the dew was rapidly retreating.

* * *

He was in love with her, and she loved him back just as much. He had told her about his psionic abilities, and how he had looked at her thoughts on occasion, but she just loved him all the more for it. He could see for himself how much she loved him, and he could show her his thoughts as well, in a way that no words could describe. It was beautiful what they had together. As much as she enjoyed traveling, she was willing to give it all away to be with him. He knew she was sincere too, after all, he could read minds.

He knew he was in love and he had never been this happy in his life, and yet something bothered him. He wasn’t sure what it was, but he felt as though he was standing before a gaping hole and had one foot over the edge. But he loved her. But something wasn’t right. He had never been so confused in his life. He couldn’t hurt her, he could never do something like that. He knew that telling her he wanted to leave would hurt her terribly. And he didn’t really want to leave anyway, or did he?

And so he made perhaps the biggest split-second anyone had ever made before. He told Kyria that he wanted to become a paladin, and he joined a seminary. She was heartbroken and furious at him. He told her how much he loved her and how much it saddened him to leave her. He said that this was something he had always wanted to do, and that he wished it didn’t have to be like this. He told her how he wanted to protect the land from the Dark Lord and his army of chaos, and that to do this he must be celibate. Given some time she came to understand. The last he saw of her was when she kissed him goodbye on the steps of the seminary.


Being in the seminary was far more interesting than he would have thought. He learned about the dark lands to the south, where armies of orcs and trolls and hideous undead monstrosities would come from to pillage their lands. He learned to fight with a sword, and to heal wounds, so as to keep an army in fighting condition. He learned to help people with their problems whether they be serious or petty.

He also learned to pray to the gods. He had never been a particularly religious man, but he soon learned how important prayer was. The seminary he studied at prayed to four of the twelve gods: Ra’lotan, the sun god, Drysis, the god of nature, Ky-Morann, the god of noble war, and Araia, the goddess of truth. Although he began praying to all the gods, as all new seminarians did, he soon began praying to Araia more than the others, and eventually stopped praying to the others altogether. Goram could think of nothing more important than truth, and he realized that much of his life had been devoted to learning the truth, and seeing through lies.

His teachers were pleased that he had become so devoted to Araia, especially since he had never prayed before. Praying was critical to life as a paladin or a cleric, and they had been worried that this would not be something he wanted to do. But it was, and Goram wasn’t without benefit from his devotion. He was able to sense when someone was being dishonest with him, even if that person wasn’t close enough for his mind to be probed. He could see through the lies of even those with powerful psionic powers. And, after some time, he was also able to communicate with the dead whose spirits had not been put to rest.

If a body had not been buried properly, its spirit was doomed to wander the earth looking for peace, but never finding it. On many occasions he had accompanied a cleric to investigate hauntings. Usually it was a case of someone getting lost in the woods and eaten by wild animals. They would communicate with the spirit, and it would lead them to the body, though usually in a roundabout fashion. Often they would find only bones, and had to look for the telltale silver streaks in them that told that they were the bones of a humanoid. If the bones were scattered and missing, it was acceptable to only bring back some of them, as long as the skull was among the bones they collected. Interestingly, no matter how shattered the rest of the bones were, the skull was always intact. The legend was that the spirit lived in the skull and would hold it together for as long as it lived there. Broken skulls were often discovered, but only those of men whose spirits had been laid to rest.

When they found the body, they would collect it and bring it back to the family of the deceased. The families were always distraught over the death, but they always took some comfort when they were able to communicate with their deceased family member. Usually the spirit told them that it just wanted to be laid to rest, and it said its goodbyes. Sometimes though, it did not want to die, and if this was the case the clerics would begin rejuvenating the body. This took at least a year and as many as five, depending on the condition of the body, and it was a lot of work for the clerics, but they did it willingly and without payment.

Goram could only ever communicate with spirits when the body was nearby, but clerics could nearly always do it no matter how far away they were. Goram learned the ritual to put a spirit to rest, and he learned to do it in just a few seconds with a bottle of holy water that was strapped to his belt. This was a skill that a paladin needed to master if he was ever to go up against undead monsters.


One morning he was awoken to learn that the Dark Lord’s army was attacking in the west. Five of the older clerics had this same vision and they knew this must be true. He and all the paladins who were ready immediately set out on their horses to take part in the fighting. The journey was exhausting and took them eight days. Finally they arrived just as the battle was turning in the favor of the Army of Light. They fought alongside the other soldiers and pushed the chaos army back, killing orcs, trolls, goblins, and undead monsters as they went. The Army of Light suffered few casualties, and was soon joined by a group of elven archers from west of the Dragonback Mountains, which strengthened their forces even more. The chaos army had no choice but to retreat, and the nobles in command of the army agreed that they should continue into the dark lands and deliver a crippling blow to the Dark Lord.

The first few days went well. The chaos army couldn’t fight well when they tried, and retreated most of the time, and lost soldiers no matter what they did. Goram fought alongside a gunnery brigade, and mostly treated wounds that were inflicted accidentally. The brigade had three cannons and four ranks of musketmen. Musketmen were usually merchants, or other citizens with an amount of wealth, that could afford to buy a gun. Guns were not so difficult to use as bows but were nearly as accurate, and merchants, who were usually not very strong physically, preferred to use them. But even the most skilled musketeer was no match for accuracy against an elven archer.

Cannons were used against the huge trolls and war elephants of the army of chaos. By the time that Goram joined though, most of the war elephants had disappeared, and the cannons were only used against fortifications and the occasional lost troll. The musketmen were used much more, to shoot remaining orcs and goblins, and to spook the horses of mounted warriors. Muskets did break on occasion, and he soon discovered that he was quite adept at fixing them, and even improving on their design in small ways. The unit had not incurred a single loss, and morale was high among all of them.

Soon they reached the dark lands. As was expected, there were few troops guarding the area. They continued their push, leveling guard towers and war factories. But as they pushed on, the soldiers began contracting diseases. They were not fighting at their best, and small groups of orc cavalry were able to wreak incredible damage on the Army of Light. Morale was low, and soldiers were dying. Goram did his best to ensure that no soldier’s body was left behind without his spirit being put to rest, lest he rise up against them as an undead abomination.

The Army of Light knew they had to retreat. They were incurring losses, and necromancers were waiting in the shadows for the opportunity to reanimate their fallen soldiers. Goram did his best to protect the unit he was with, putting to rest the spirit of each fallen soldier that had risen up in unlife. Vampires were also wreaking havoc among the army. At night, they were indistinguishable from men, and would infiltrate their camps, draining the blood of soldiers and raising them up again as bloodthirsty vampires.

The Army of Light did make it out of the dark lands, and the vampires had a hard time surviving outside of their territory where it was not so easy to find a hiding place during the day. Their army met up with more reinforcements on their way out of the dark lands, and so they were able to crush the advancement of the army of chaos, and neither side gained or lost any lands. Goram stayed for a few days, curing the diseases incurred by the soldiers and fixing muskets and cannons that had been broken. He soon realized that he could improve on these weapons, and in doing so give the Army of Light an advantage in the next battle.