Fendora Falling: A Legends of Agora Short by Michael James Ploof

Author:Michael James Ploof [Ploof, Michael James]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Goodreads: 39027435
Publisher: Traveling Bard Publishing
Published: 2018-06-03T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8

“It will not be so easy in Tren,” Zerafin was saying over the boisterous laughter and singing of the dwarves. He closed the window of the late commander general’s office and regarded a grinning Du’Krell.

The dwarf king was on his fourth tankard of ale and looking quite merry as he sat back in his chair. Abram and Rhunis sat across from him, they on their second tankard. Abram didn’t make it a habit to drink only hours after taking back a fort, but Du’Krell was a pusher of spirits if Abram had ever seen one.

“I told ye, elf. They be cowards, one and all,” said Du’Krell.

“No, the dark elves are not cowards, they are zealots. They were ordered to retreat as part of a larger plan.”

“What plan that be?”

“I believe they are returning to Tren to protect the draggard queens, among other things,” said Zerafin.

Du’Krell spit on the floor. “Come tomorrow, they’ll see there ain’t nowhere to hide. We’ll rout ‘em from the island easy, ye’ll see.”

“I don’t think you understand what I’m saying,” said Zerafin slowly, as one might when speaking to a child, or perhaps a drunk. “The draggard queens will be defended at all costs. The dark elves have withdrawn because they would rather defend one fortification than two. They are luring us to them, and they will bring everything they have to bear on our forces.”

“Bah,” said Du’Krell. “Let ‘em bring what they got. Together there ain’t no one the three races can’t defeat.”

The dwarf king was drunk, Abram had no doubt, but he enjoyed his enthusiasm. It meant that Abram had done his job well.

“What do you suggest our next course of action be?” Abram asked Zerafin.

The elf rejoined them at the table and took a long drink of wine. He looked to be considering many options as he stared at the crimson liquid in his glass. “First, we need to cut them off from Drindellia. Destroy their armada.”

“I ain’t goin’ on no godsdamned boat,” said Du’Krell. “But I got plenty o’ ‘em out there with yer kin and their thin little vessels. And I got more destroyers watchin’ the channel so the dark elves can’t go south without our knowin’.”

“Yes, I have no doubt that out combined navies will get the job done. But there is another way that they may have been traveling to and fro.”

“Oh?” said Rhunis.

Abram wondered what Zerafin could mean as well.

“Yes, it is just a theory, but I believe that Eadon may have a portal in Drindellia that leads to Tren,” said Zerafin.

“A portal?” said Du’Krell, scratching his beard. “What the blazes ye talkin’ ‘bout?”

“In the past,” Zerafin began, looking to be considering how to explain it. “There was an elf named Akron who invented portals that could magically carry a person from one place to the other, no matter the distance. The ancient magic was lost to us, but I think that Eadon has rediscovered it.”

“A magic portal?” said the dwarf king. “Ye mean ye walk through it one place and come out miles away only a step later?”

“Precisely.

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