Chapter 5
Good Night…It Will Be Your Last

    Dinner was made merry by old elf folk songs and dancers in bright clothing. As the men laughed and joked and drank to their hearts content, Tymat and Xalamath were deep in conversation of times past.
    “Your father and I, great friends we were.” Said Xalamath “I met him as a boy, and I got to know him as he grew up. I, of course am several hundred years older than he, so I was a full grown man before he was even born. I met his father before he died of the bleeding plague. I was your father’s godfather, but he is much to old for the need of a fatherly figure now.”
    “I didn’t know that you are my fathers godfather! Why now I know why my father is always speaking of how kind and noble the elves are.”
    Xalamath blushed and replied, “Your father is an excellent fighter. Why is he not fighting in your war against the Dread Dwarves?”
    “His illness is dragging him down. He is low in spirits and in strength. I think he will get better, being the kind of man he is, but some days, I worry…”
    “Your father is sick? My God! That is terrible. I am sorry, I did not know.”
    “It is all right. He is strong. He will live. I was a fool to even consider that he wouldn’t.”
    “Ah, I see.” Replied Xalamath rather sorrowfully.
    Xalamath, with his seasoned, yet blemishless face cast downward, suddenly raised his head as the window shattered into countless pieces. As he gathered his wits about him, Xalamath started to realize what had happened. A cannonball had flown through the window, right over the table, and smashed thankfully into four empty chairs.
    Xalamath shouted, “We’re under attack!”
    The sound of booming cannons, the airy whisp of speeding arrows, and the crackling of loose flames quickly spread across the island. Almost mechanically, soldiers sprang out of nowhere in an amazingly organized fashion. Hundreds of elves poured out of the castle. It was an amazing contrast, the expressions of merriment before, and now the vicious will to fight.
    Tymat rushed to the window to see what exactly was attacking. He crouched low and peaked out the window, scared that a flying cannonball might strike him.     Peering down the high ledge, Tymat saw an immense fleet of jagged looking battleships attacking the bay. The elven fleet was already firing back at them, but they were sorely outnumbered, and many of the elven boats were struggling to stay afloat.
    While Tymat was already thinking hope was lost, elven Mages rushed to the Griffin landing platform that he had just landed on earlier that day. The Mages, thundering voices slicing the air, casted powerful spells to hopefully turn the tides of the battle. Small, searing fireballs the size of peas rained down as numerous as raindrops in a thunderstorm over the enemy fleet. The power of the elven magic astounded Tymat, however, he had little time to watch all of this, for his eyes were soon stripped from their gaze as Griel yelled, “Tymat! Hurry! To the Doveseye! We must help defend the elves. This is our affair with the Dread Dwarves, not theirs.”
    Tymat jumped up and following Griel, stormed out of the dining room, through the great hall, and out onto the landing platform. He stopped dead in his tracks. The sight was even more brilliant when seen from the platform. Mounted Griffins soared through the air, their riders dipping arrows into deep flaming cauldrons of oil at their sides. The pitch-black sky, now painted scarlet with flames boomed with thunder. A light drizzle fell freely from the sky. Crackling began as the drizzle came in contact with the flaming rain, but it was not enough to extinguish the flames.
    Ghoul-like creatures cried out in pain as searing rain boiled them alive. The smell of burning wood and flesh stank in the enemy ships. Masts caught flame. Ghouls desperately ducked and burrowed for cover as they brushed off the burning rain.
Griel yelled for Tymat. Tymat snapped his head to attention and took a terrified step back as a Armored Griffin Swooped down and landed on the platform, leaving a heavy wind to batter at Tymat’s face. The beast was ironclad from beak to tail.     It’s massive claws had metal cone-shaped scythes attached to them. It’s rider called out to Tymat and Griel, “Hurry! Get on!”
    Without a word, both Tymat and Griel mounted the beast. Tymat lost his breath as the massive creature bent its knees and pushed off into the flaming sky. The beast was surprisingly graceful in the air, and the ride was smooth all the way down to the dock. However, smooth flight was the last bit of peace that Tymat would experience for the rest of the battle. As they landed, an elven officer, bow in hand, rushed over to give instruction to Griel and Tymat.
    “You two, where is your ship?” The officer asked.
    “I am captain of the Doveseye.” Yelled Griel over the chaos. “We ask to get to our ship so we can take part in this war!”
    “I’m sorry captain Griel, but the Doveseye has sunk.” Explained the officer.
    “Sunk? But it hasn’t even been in battle yet!” yelled Griel
    “On the contrary sir, The Doveseye was used by some of our elven troops. It was one of the most accessible ships, so we took it into battle without the captain’s consent. I am ugh…” His voice trailed off as he fell limp to the ground. As he fell forward, both Griel and Tymat saw what was the matter. An arrow was embedded in his back.
    Tymat looked up. The enemy fleet had made it to shore! Enemy troop came pouring out of the ships like a flooded dam. Many of the ghoulish men were shot down before they could reach the dry sand, however. There were many archers on the massive wall behind the sandy beach, though there were few soldiers on the beach itself. Griel and Tymat turned to climb the stairs that lead up to the wall, but a wooden barricade blocked it off. They were trapped. It was just them and a few soldiers against an entire army of rogue bandits.
    “Tymat, look out!” Griel shouted as he stabbed a ghoul.
    Tymat turned to his side to see a charging ghoul, sword lifted high, coming right at him! He drew his rapier in a flash and jabbed at the ghoul. Sliding down Tymat’s blade, the ghoul groaned and fell to his sandy doom. Tymat took one second to examine the ghoul. This was no dread dwarf…

Main • Introduction • Chapter One (Struggling to Start) • Chapter Two (Mutineers)
Chapter Three (A New Life) • Chapter Four (In the Court of the King)
Chapter Five (Good Night…It Will Be Your Last) • Chapter Six (Holding the Fort)
Chapter Seven (The End of an Alliance) • Chapter Eight (Journey to the Pirate Islands)