Subterra: Dark Relm

Part 5 :The siege of oakridge: Echoes of Malakar

(Outside Garrick's house, he pulls out a long wooden stick marked with ten distinct levels.)

Galen: (eyebrows raised): Do we suppose to break it with our veyra?

Garrick: (chuckling): Oh no, no. You're to combine your veyra with this stick-coat it, if you will. Watch closely.

(Garrick stands atop a large stone, his eyes narrowing in concentration. A thin veil of energy, his veyra, wraps around the stick. He releases it, letting the stick drop onto the stone. The ground quivers as it strikes, a deep hole forming as the stick stands tall like an ominous pillar.)

Zev: (nodding, impressed): Well, you managed to hit level four. That's pretty impressive for your age.

Damon: (curious): You can wield veyra like that-were you a fighter?

Garrick: (a shadow crosses his face): In a way, yes. Everyone trained hard in those days-those who didn't want to run or die had no choice.

Galen: (frowning): But from what?

Garrick: (his voice drops, haunted by memories): From Malakar. He ruled with terror, and his soldiers-savages-they were given free rein to do as they pleased. It was a time when hell itself walked our lands.

Galen: (confused): Malakar? Who is he? And where is he now?

Garrick: (grimly): He was a demon from hell, defeated long ago. His body lies buried somewhere in Drakara Kingdom. If you want to know more, Orin holds the knowledge. But enough talk-this is about testing your veyra, not dredging up old nightmares.

(Zev steps forward, taking the stick and coating it with his own veyra. He releases it as Garrick did. The stick makes a deep impact, impressing everyone.)

Damon: (grinning): Oh, you surpassed Garrick. Looks like you hit level four and a half.

Zev: (smiling): Your turn.

Damon: (gesturing to Seraphina): Princess, you first.

Seraphina: (determined but uncertain): I'm no match, but I'll try.

(She takes the stick, her hands trembling slightly. She channels her veyra, but the stick only penetrates to level two.)

Galen: (inspecting): It's only level two. You need to focus more-channel your soul and energy.

Seraphina: (sighing): That's all I've got.

Zev: (encouraging): Now, you two. I heard Master Orin once reached eight or nine.

Galen: (eyes wide): Wow, that's high. Is that the highest?

Garrick: (serious): He was second to Malakar, who hit ten. But Malakar's power was suppressed-most of Drakara and Nythoria's soldiers can't even dream of reaching that level.

Galen: (determined): Seems like he was the strongest. Let me try.

(Galen takes the stick, focusing intensely. The stick slams into the ground, penetrating deep below the surface. Everyone but Damon stares in shock. Damon takes his turn, with the same result-both sticks buried deep.)

Garrick: (stunned): You're no ordinary people. There must be a reason Orin took you under his wing.

Galen: (downplaying it): Maybe it's just coincidence. But that old man-he's hiding something.

Damon: (nodding): Since we met the princess, more and more mysteries about Master's past and Subterra are coming to light.

Galen: (reflective): He's never spoken a word about his past-or our parents. Yet he's like a father to us. In training, he's tough as nails, but outside of that...he's a good man.

Seraphina: (cutting in): I think we should talk about the Caravyn...

(Their conversation is abruptly cut off as a guard rushes in, panting from exertion.)

Guard: (alarmed): While scouting and patrolling, we spotted soldiers from King Elowen's army-they're planning to attack our village!

Zev: (grimly): That's bad. We're not prepared. Keep an eye on them. We need to move and prepare for the fight. How many?

Guard: (worried): A few hundred, at least.

Garrick: (thinking fast): We can't run, but we can use the darkness to our advantage-defend ourselves from the shadows.

Seraphina: (urgently): Zev, how many troops do we have?

Zev: (calculating): My lady, I've gathered around fifty.

Galen: (determined): Damon and I can handle it. Save your soldiers for the main fight.

Damon: (with a fiery grin): I'll take them alone. I need to unleash my rage for Vandros.

Galen: (laughing): I'm not letting you have all the fun. I'll go too.

Zev: (warning): Don't be fools-they might be stronger and better armed.

Galen: (smirking): So are we. Just give us swords and shields. We've trained with all kinds of weapons-pick whatever you like.

(Ignoring Garrick's protest, Galen and Damon rush forward, weapons in hand, ready to face the oncoming horde. As the enemy draws near, the two warriors exchange a competitive glance.)

Galen: (taunting): Let's see how many you can count.

Damon: (mocking): Oh, please-count mine too, the heads I slice from their necks.

Galen: (grinning): You've got a big mouth.

Damon: (teasing): Why, is yours small?

Galen: (seriously): I'll deal with you later.

Damon: (laughing): I'm waiting.

*(They charge into battle, their swords gleaming under the moonlight.)*

(A few hours earlier, in the forests near the village, a scout hurries to report to his commander.)

Scout: (breathless): I saw a village near the border-it must be Oakridge. Princess Seraphina and her guards are likely there.

Commander: (eyes narrowing): So, Princess, I've found you. You can't hide anymore. They'll be preparing for defense. Gather all the soldiers-call in reinforcements from nearby areas. We attack at night, just like we did at the palace.
(The commander's voice drips with malice as he envisions the attack.)

Scout: (eagerly): We'll prepare for the raid-make sure the Princess is captured alive.

Commander: (coldly): Alive, yes. But scratchless. She's King Elowen's queen-to-be, after all. Divide the soldiers-one small group to the front, the main force will flank them from behind. We'll crush them in the middle.
(As he speaks, the commander's lips curl into a wicked grin, imagining their victory.)*

(Back at Oakridge, Damon and Galen finish off the last of the soldiers they ambushed. But then, they sense something-another force, much larger, approaching from the opposite side of the village.)**

(At the front gate of Oakridge, a scout rushes up to Garrick, pale with fear.)

**Scout** (terrified): There are thousands of soldiers-coming straight for us!

*(Garrick rushes to see for himself. In the distance, he spots the advancing army, their torches flickering like malevolent fireflies in the darkness.)*

**Garrick** (gripping his weapon tighter): This is bad...real bad.

**(Suddenly, they're ambushed by another group-this time from the right.)

(Damon and Galen arrive just in time, joining the villagers in the desperate fight. They exchange glances, a fierce joy in their eyes.)

Garrick: (in awe): Who are these warriors helping us?

Galen: (relieved): Master Orin is here-with reinforcements.