Tartarus Beckons by Edmund Batara (reading an ebook .TXT) 📕
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- Author: Edmund Batara
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Tyler might be doing a quest or solving a problem, but it doesn’t mean the world stops until he finishes. Loki and the Titans are but part of the tumultuous world our mage is trying to bring some sense of order, or at least prevent from being destroyed by its inhabitants. It’s a tall order for one knowledge-challenged and magically-hobbled mage. Whether he’ll find a solution is a question which only the future would show. The mage might very well end up destroying everything himself. I did say before that in Adar, like in the real world, things are never what they initially appear to be. Nor is the line between good and evil neatly delineated.
Readers might be surprised at the difference in word count among the volumes, but the approach is adopted for a reason. Books of the series end at sections where continuing the saga from such points would lead to an inconveniently sized tome.
Finally, as a writer, I will continue to let the story guide me where it wants to go, and the fantasy epic will conclude when the tale deems itself at an end.
Enjoy. Thanks for reading.
The Writer.
June 2019.
Jorund's Map of Skaney
PROLOGUE:
Prelude to War
Otr glanced at his battle line. Twenty thousand heavily armored and armed heavy infantry. All positioned on the rocky outcrops of the slopes of the mountains flanking the secret pass to their main stronghold in the Western Dvergar Mountains. Linked and embedded tall shields protected infantry ranks. At their back were dwarven crossbowmen, armed with an improved version of the Zhong repeater crossbow. Further up were ballistae and catapults. Their mages were distributed all along the line.
What a vacation, he thought. You come to visit your father, and you end up in another battle. I should have brought that Dvalin fellow and his lads along, they didn’t seem to have enough fun back in Hedmark. Or even some of the lads back home in the Northern Dvergar Range. Nah. I don’t think the Elders would have allowed it. Jotnar activity seem to be increasing.
Otr glanced at the ranks of warriors preparing for battle. Most were rubbing their shields and armor with a mixture of clay and vinegar, magically bonded together. Even spears and pikes got the same treatment. On the vast desolate plain below, the southern edges of the Plain of Fire, Otr could see Sutr’s advance legions moving into position.
We might have a higher tolerance to fire than other races, but it doesn’t mean we’re immune to it. On the bright side, the fire jotunn’s minions are also definitely killable by fire. Lots of it though.
The dwarven lord was curious about the big shapes he had seen ponderously moving forward from the far side of the vast plain. Such huge monsters have never been seen before and he naturally wanted to know more about them, but the distance was too great for him to pick out details. He walked to the ballistae commander standing a hundred feet away and gave out helpful comments to the preparing dwarves as he walked along the lines of defenders.
“Quickly now, you bunch of lily-livered pansies! At this rate, we should be inviting those blasted offsprings of Sutr to dinner instead! You call that preparing? I’ll get better results from dead drunk, half-blind, lame, and witless humans! Move your lazy, fat, and heavy asses! Are you sons of the mountains?” he shouted.
A rumbling roar from thousands of voices greeted his words. Battle drums sounded.
“Good! For a moment, I thought I was fighting with the svartalfar!”
Noisy laughter greeted his words. Otr reached the detachment leader.
“How’s it going, Nabbi?” Otr asked.
“We’re still bringing up ammunition, my Prince, though I see big ones at the rear of our enemies. I can’t say I know what they are.”
“I saw them too. Don’t mind them. The fire jotnar would be idiots to use them in the coming battle. They’re going to be employed when they’ve forced the gate. Right now, those flying snakes are the ones which worry me,” replied Otr.
“Some look familiar, the usual crop of fire drakes. Others are new,” observed Nabbi.
“Nothing that tunneling stones won’t cure,” snorted Otr.
“It does appear they brought a lot of their forces to the coming merriment,” commented the other warrior idly. “I estimate about 40,000 now on the field, with more coming in.”
“More to kill, brother. Though the scouts did report the land of fire is indeed on the move. The battle won’t be today or even tomorrow. They’ll gather their scattered hosts first before they attack,” grinned Otr. “That gives me time for some drinking tonight.”
Then he thoughtfully looked at the enemy gathering on the great plain.
“I never thought I’d be happy to see normal enemies, even in those numbers. There’s something abominable about fighting swift undead who fight and think like the living. That Hedmark excursion was bizarre, to say the least,” said Otr.
“I did hear about that, my Prince. Strange enemies, indeed. Good thing we didn’t lose too many of the lads, and I hope that kind of undead don’t show up in these parts. About our present playmates, the warning about the jotunn lords had already been sent to the various dvergar realms. But I heard most are already fighting either Sutr or Ymir’s forces,” mentioned his companion.
Otr grinned. “It’s going to be the worst and biggest crock of draken shit, Nabbi. And I am not talking about that cursed Fafnir either. The good news is we’re in the front seats! Imagine that!”
The dokkalfr mage stood among his dead and dying brethren. The attack had been unexpected. They didn’t
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