The Lengthening Shadow

At the Cape, the war was still raging. Karakssass had ordered Dwert and a squad of lizards to charge head-on into the ranks of the foebeast as a cover for another, more treacherous plan: use half of his entire forces to storm the field hospitals. The troops of the ambush were led by Grullgill, now a captain; this pleased the eel greatly. He and two hundred hand-picked fighters were slowly creeping through the grass to their destination. One of the party, a burly reptile wielding a spear and the name of Grak-Leada, warily approached Grullgill, hissing, “When does the attack start, Captain. We’ve been waiting here forever—Yowch!” The eel officer slapped Grak-Leada with his tail. “Silence, fools! They might have heard us!” His fears were justified when a gila fell back, slain by arrows and gunshot. Grullgill cursed his bad fortune by taking it out on Grak-Leada. “Wyrm’s blood! They’ve—heard,” he punctuated each word with a blow, “Us—you—idiot! Tell you what, I’ll go back and report to Master Karakssass, while you lead the raiding party. Good-bye!” He slithered off, leaving Grak-Leada with the discovered ambushers.

Morgan had finally left the hospitals when he heard sounds of a raiding party trying not to be discovered. He called a troop of shooters and swordbeasts over, and they snuck over to the area where the sounds were coming from. When the foebeasts were in range, he ordered his shooters to open fire. He aimed a rifle and shot, slaying a rattlesnake known as Gartûl. As the dying hisses of the snake died away. Morgan smiled.

On the battlefield of the Cape, Samuel led the front lines of his army into battle against the vile minions of Karakssass. The ground was so wet with blood that it soaked through the mouse’s leather shoes, and he grimaced in disgust. Dwert and Glafang were with Karakssass on top of the dam, surveying the carnage. Jorteng and Croglaw met up with Samuel and made their way back to the camp with him. The sand lizard glared daggers of hatred at Glafang, remarking, “That one will pay zoon. I never forget an injury to my body or my pride, and he haz given me both. Zamuel, permission to zlay him?” Samuel layed a paw on Jorteng’s shoulders. “No, my friend, no. The time has not yet come for that. But when it does, you have dibs on that one.” Karakssass signaled with his tail, and countless more villains stormed out into combat. Croglaw threw most of his forces against them, and as he heard the dying screams of countless friends and foes, Samuel knew that the final battle of Cape Bucktooth had begun.

Karakssass and his captains never left their spots on the dam, the typical move of cowards. This is life or death, our life or death, realized the knight. He took out another five reptiles with his sword and suddenly knew that he had killed one hundred alone in this battle. He had taken one hundred beasts from their friends and family, one three hundred from the only world they knew. Samuel took Jorteng and Croglaw by the hand and led them up the path to the dam.

It was spiraling uphill, with soldiers guarding it all the way. They were quickly taken care of by the mouse, lizard, and alligator as they traveled upwards toward the evil adder king. Once at the top, they were spotted.

“Glafang! Dwert! Deal with these intruderssssss!”

The gila and newt lept forward, brandishing swords. Croglaw and Jorteng met their rush head-on, engaging both captains in combat. Karakssass faced Samuel, bronze spear whirling. The weapon clashed with the mouse’s rapier, and the legendary battle known for generations as the Duel at the Dam commenced. It was a cloudy evening, and a thunderstorm started up. Lightning struck several fighters on both sides, and Samuel noted this while blocking a swing that nearly decapitated him. A bolt of electricity hit the dam, starting a small fire. Using this to his advantage, Karakssass pressed Samuel back, trying to shove him into the inferno.

Jorteng stood fighting his mortal enemy, a grim smile on his face. Glafang showed fear for the first time, knowing that the lizard wanted him dead. The gila tried, as a last, desperate trick, to kick the Sandraider in the fork of the legs. He swung his foot, overbalancing as he did. Jorteng swung his longsword and took his legs off from the knees down. Crippled and bleeding, Glafang knew that his last stand had come. He put his claws up in the air in a token of surrender. Jorteng nodded, as if understanding his plight, then chopped his head off with a single swipe. The gila’s body made a soft ploosh as it hit the lake far below.

Dwert and Croglaw had both lost their weapons, but still went about the business of trying to kill each other hammer and tongs. Biting and clawing, the two beasts rolled around on the wood, no one getting the better of the other. Finally, the smaller newt, exhausted and hurt, scrabbled out from under the alligator and ran. Croglaw jumped and landed on top of Dwert, dispatching him with a blow to the head. He started to move towards where Samuel and Karakssass were fighting, but Jorteng stopped him. “Do not go, my friend. It iz Zamuel’z fight. If he iz lozing, then we go, but no zooner.”

Karakssass was winning. He had whipped Samuel’s sword paw with the tip of his tail, and the mouse was forced to switch, which cost him time. As the snake moved forward to finish off the mouse, Samuel finally recovered and swung at the adder. Karakssass landed and backed away, spinning his spear warily. As he charged, though, Jorteng leapt at him, landing on his face. Karakssass teetered on the brink of the dam for a few seconds, then plummeted into the fire, Jorteng still clinging to him.

“Jorteeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeng!” Samuel cried, but it was no use. The lizard was gone forever; he had sacrificed himself to end the war and save his friends. Samuel remembered the time he had first met him, so long ago in the Dunelands.

Even though they had won, even though the war was ended, the victory had come at a terrible price.