7 hours before...
The company of soldiers trudged forward into the desert, a low, whistling wind swirled the sand around their feet. The sun was raging above them, a never ending blast of heat. It was yet another meaningless scouting into nothingness. But still they marched forward, leaving a westward trail behind them.
Their commander, a summoner, took a measured sip from his water container. He licked his cracked lips, but knew that he had to preserve the liquids for the return journey. His demon, a rather overweight Lutra, padded alongside him. She shook her tail angrily, the spiked ends came dangerously close to the summoner's ankle. This what not her preferred climate, after all.
Another giant dune loomed overhead, its shadow giving some relief from the oppressive heat. The loose sands shifted beneath their feet. The summoner shifted his pack to a different spot on his shoulders, the sore spot rubbed raw with the constant marching.
Lost in his thoughts, the summoner crashed into a soldier in front, who suddenly stopped on the slope of the dune, causing them to both tumble into the sand.
The summoner eased himself up, and looked around his company. Their jaws were wide open, and their gaze was focused on the something behind him. He jerked himself around and his eyes opened wide in astonishment.
A lone white orc stood on top of the dune, its imperial gaze stared coldly at them below. His folded arm revealing ripples of muscle. His black hair contrasted deeply with his skin, which unusually seemed cool and untanned by the burning sun. A small pair of tusks emerged from behind smiling lips.
A low rumbling reached the soldiers ears, the sand jittered beneath their feet. They looked, terrified, at the orc above them, fearing of what to come.
A giant stone head, engulfed in flames, rose above the dunes. Its triangular eyes and jagged mouth gave the head a sinister. The huge giant emerged from behind the dunes. Completely clad in heavy rock plating, the giant looked impenetrable. A vein of lava ran through the gaps of the plates, heating the rock so much that they melted along the edges. Its boulder sized fingers were pointed and sharp, capable of slashing anything. An aura of intense flames blazed around the giant, making the air simmer in the heat.
The summoner looked at the giant in despair. From his thorough schooling of every demon type at Vocans Academy, he knew they had no chance of surviving. The orc's demon was an Ifrit: a fire elemental golem. His Lutra hid behind his legs, quivering in fear.
The Ifrit roared at the sky and charged down the dune, sand cascading down in an avalanche towards the soldiers. The wave of sand blinded them, the sand stinging the eyes. The Ifrit opened his jaw and breathed out a sheet of flame, burning anything in its path to mere ash.
It was over in a matter of minutes, charred bodies lay discarded on the sand, the red hot sand evidence of what horrors that occurred. The albino orc, named Agar, was still on top of the dune. A wave of goblins and orcs appeared behind him, wielding clubs and javelins. Agar looked into the distance, and pointed a finger westward.
"March on Antioch!"
Word count: 544
A/N
Sorry for the long wait (a year in fact), I was busy with school and forgot about the story completely!
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The Soul for the Dragon - Summoner book 4 - (Fanfic)
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