Gargalant; Dwarven Sentience: First Movement

By: Riashain Posted on: May 29, 2005

{Forward: The following is an accounting of the events on Nishnatoba. The tale covers the retreat of the Elder Gods and their army, and the sacrifice of Gargalant, WarLeader of the Shattered Stone Dwarves. The story explains the first example of Dwarven Sentience after the promise of Lord Phaestus to Lord Ayar to secure his Children souls. The names of the persons in this retelling are not fictional and the retelling is accurate as is possible by this author.}

He nearly stumbled as his great battleaxe smashed upwards through the now splattered remains of a Nevaharr skull. As he caught his balance, his eyes widened, drawn toward the sky. The battle had ceased it seemed, all eyes drawn skyward toward a portal of azure light. His ears seemed to wail in protest at the lack of sound, his warrior instinct raging inside him, warning him of the danger all around. He could not tear his eyes away. His mind reeled as Khalas stepped forth from the portal. They had been so close. His shock was short-lived, as Pazuzu and his flying horde followed Khalas from the light, screeching over the battlefield, their wings flapping furiously as they launched themselves toward the Elder Gods forces.

The booming voice of Aegis echoed in his head, commanding his retreat. He could see he wasn't the only one to receive the orders, as all around him his forces began to move. "Retreat!" he cried, his voice hoarse as it echoed over the heads of the nearest warriors. His legs groaned in protest as he again began to move, his legs choosing a careful path over through his legion.

His heavily armoured body was an impressive sight. His normally polished armour was now a mess of blood and gore, from his heavy boots to the incredible piece of mithril around his barreled chest. He'd removed his helmet long ago in favour of greater vision; the choice had saved his life more than once.

The cries of unicorns resounded across the field, signs that the Nevaharr were beginning to catch up. With a quick flash of his hands at one of his Commanders, half a cohort of Shield Dwarves were sent off to the east to bolster the rear guard forces of mercenaries and Qui'anar. He had lost more Dwarves than he could count this day, and he knew he would lose more. Never had the Dwarves experienced such a loss. They were not alone, however, and he took comfort in that knowledge. The retreating Elder forces were still yet quite some distance from the rising barrier being formed by Proteus and Lucretius. He was all too aware of the little time remaining for the demon horde descended on them in full. The Kx'Khrah and Nevaharr forces had been slowed, nearly to a stand still. His Shield Dwarves were fighting admirably, and he would mourn their loss. It was inevitable he knew.

Gargalant, WarLeader of Clan Shattered Stone realized the sacrifice necessary to allow his allies the time to retreat to the safety of the Divine barrier. He lowered his head, safely surrounded by several of his commanders. Mumbling a soft prayer to his Father, Gargalant flashed several signals, sending all of his commanders off to their charges but one. To the remaining commander he passed command of the Shattered Stone forces, commanding their retreat with the rest of the Elder forces. Clasping hands with his most trusted friend, Gargalant smiled grimly. "A single cohort to me!" his voice boomed. "A cohort of Shield Dwarves to me!"

His call was answered. Even as the remainder of the Shattered Stone forces began to retreat, following their kin, Gargalant's elite warriors rallied to his call, breaking away from the main army as they covered their brothers' backs. "To Gargalant!" they called as one.

As Gargalant approached his new army, the wailing of the demons increased, their cries bolstered by those of the Nevaharr. The Kx'Khrah seemed oddly silent, though their attacks were no less fierce. "For Phaestus!!!!" Gargalant cried, raising his battleaxe in defiance at the advancing horde. As the two armies joined in battle, Gargalant stood amongst his Dwarven kin, his battleaxe in the forefront. His presence gave them strength, and they fought furiously, knowing they were all that stood between the Triumvirate and their own allies.

As he tore his enemies apart limb by limb, Gargalant began to chant. His voice was deep, rhythmic, focused. "Phaestus!" he bellowed as he severed the head of a Nevaharr from its body. "PHAESTUS!" he raged again as he clipped the wings of a demon with his battleaxe. And so it continued, the Shield Dwarves falling one by one against the much larger force they faced. Gargalant grew weary, his strength fading with each swing his axe. His limbs shook with each parry he made, and his focus increased as each of his brethren fell.

Soon only Gargalant remained, a pile of bodies at his feet, friend and foe alike. His army had stalled the advance of the enemy, and he was proud. The demons had passed him in a flurry, their eyes focused on the much larger prize now quite some distance beyond him. He cut down a Nevaharr with a vicious upward strike, spinning with the attack to follow through against the crystalline limb of a Kx'Khrah attempting to stalk past him. He turned to his left to deflect a blow from another Crystal Warrior, only to swing to his right again as he ducked the swipe of another Nevaharr. He roared with fury, screaming his Father's name. He raged, heedless of his enemies, and called for a worthy opponent. His axe struck out in an arc, clipping those who were too slow in their retreat. As he brought his axe to bear, his eyes widened in fear and awe as an incredibly large demon stepped forth from behind the Nevaharr. He was exhausted, his breathing shallow and rapid, his legs trembling from exertion. His axe dropped slowly, its double-headed tip resting lazily on the ground.

The demon faced Gargalant silently, its imposing form still. Gargalant raised his head in defiance and hefted his axe. As the demon stalked forward, Gargalant drew the rest of his energy and barreled forward, his axe slicing upward. The demon was too quick for the weakened Gargalant, and his many arms wrapped the Dwarf in a vice-like grip. Gargalant screamed his Father's name one more time before the demon crushed the life from his body.

The demon horde advanced toward the retreating forces of the Elder Gods, hoping to catch them before they reached the barrier.

[Author's Note: Gargalant's name is one of Dwarven lore, and may not be borne by any Dwarf to this day as a symbol of respect for his sacrifice.]