Fiction: Death on Dark Wings, set during the UHWII in the Star of Enerithan Campaign pt1

            Staring at the remains of what was once Gamaro base, a several
mile long husk of a long dead tortoise now split into several pieces by the
combined attacks and sabotage of the IEN, Korgesh unconsciously tightened
the leather straps on his gauntlets.  It had been only a month since the
pair of armada and fleet of man-o-war's had attacked, but due to his natural
aptitude for command, the black furred scro had already begin to plan a
strike.  What remained of his fleet still surrounded him, a dozen scorpion
ships, a nautiloid, a score of goblin arrow fighter craft, and the pride of
his black heart - six deadly metal mantis ships.



Several stirge ships were due back any day, having been contacted via magic
before they had left the sphere, as was a pair of ogre mammoths, having been
sent almost immediately to a nearby mining asteroid to procure more ogres.
There had been many ogres onboard gamaro base, but when push came to shove
and it had been apparent the base would fall, Korgesh's grand captain of the
guard evacuated the base, starting with the most important residents of
course - the scro.  Allready the stirge ships had been assigned new
missions, the small ships returning to salvage what they could from the
debris so that the engineers on board - some of the finest in the entire
armed forces, by the light of dukgash - could take enough supplies to build
several outposts deep in enemy territory.  The stirge had a decent amount of
firepower, and an incredible amount of room inside for such a small vessel,
but efficient in more ways than one each crewmember shared his bunk with two
others, a hot bunk approach, with onboard warpriests using magic to refresh
the air, providing enough scro for their missions.



Unfortunately, as his Battlewagon had finally been fully repaired, Korgesh
would not be able to personally salute each and every marine going on the
missions, something he prided himself on doing not only for morale, but so
that he if no one else may remember their sacrifice should they die.  Only
just recovered from his injuries himself - or more specifically from the
painful and unholy way his kindred/master Targis had returned him to life -
Korgesh could not afford any extra time to satisfy his whims.  The elves had
believed their armada, The Way, provided them with not only a means of
escape but an incredible advantage over the scro, the mythal on board the
gigantic ship opening a door into the astral plane to allow quick travel
back whence they came, but in fact this had proved a great error on part of
the elves - one planned by the scro.



It had taken some of the best warpriests within the fleet, several of which
had to be sacrificed to the greater cause in distractions, to make the elves
believe their other armada - The Fate - had been destroyed.  In actuality,
almost two dozen warpriests and crimson blades, the mightiest of scro
assassins, had teleported on board and cause the ship to drift out of the
battle.  It took almost 50 scro warpriests to work in unison to cast the
illusion, or place the appropriate darkness spells on the enemies ships that
were not heavily engaged in combat.  From many of the elven man-o-war's it
simply appeared that space blackened, a darkness their pathetic infravision
could not penetrate, while from others, and the other elven armada, it
appeared as if The Fate itself exploded in a gigantic fireball.  All of it
had been planning within only ten minutes, as soon as Korgesh had been
brought back from the dead he commanded from a bed almost too weak to talk,
but it worked, and the spies Korgesh had been able to place aboard The Way
as it left the ruins of Gamaro base had magically reported back that the
elves thought the ship lost.



Of course, it wasn't really.



The lie had been further perpetrated, of course, by the common scro tactic
of either teleporting or boating across a ton of smokepowder just to see the
explosion, but more-so by the way in which the warpriests who had gone
aboard The Fate went about their grizzly business.  They had attacked
sporadically, making it look like there were only a handful or more of them
aboard, just enough for the battlewizard of the armada to notify The Way
that they had intruders on board.  Most of the work would have been done by
the crimson blades - if enough warpriests had been seen together in one
place by accident it would have spoiled the ruse - and Korgesh already
regretted letting Captain Vashen lead his force of killers aboard, his
abilities would be greatly missed.



The fate that Vashen would have shared with the crew of the armada was a
ghastly one, but it had been necessary sacrifice, as only the warpriests
that Vashen's forces kept concealed once aboard would have been able to
safely teleport several of the destructive Witchlight Marauders on board.



            Korgesh wished wildspace was not quite so empty, so at least
some of the screams of the elves might have echoed to his ears, but those
same screams would have echoed in the pointy ears of those tricked by the
magic in the first place.



            "Let us hope that at least there were a couple of worthy
warriors amongst their crew, dear Velnik, that they may have actually
survived long enough for us to have some sport when we get there - although
you don't particularly like the sport, do you Velnik.  It reminds you too
much of your youth perhaps?  Or is it that you do not get to taste of the
elven flesh?  Answer truthfully, and I may even grant you a boon next time".
The little goblin polishing Korgesh's breastplate continued his work while
he listened, it had taken a long time for him to be trained to do two things
at once.  His head tilted when he considered his own response, his hands
still busily shining the black iron armour of his lord.



            "The flesh lord, the flesh it is divine".



            Korgesh smiled at the little goblin, an aide he had put much
work into to bring up to the grade of the scro aides back on the homeworld,
and decided that if the little green imp managed to stay alive long enough,
he may even grant that boon yet.



Tilaurin
tilaurin@?????????????????.com
http://www.planetbaldursgate.com/atreus/index.html
"Dying Swans/Twisted Wings,
Bring This Savage Back Home"
- Brave New World, Iron Maiden