I ~ Connor I

Twenty-five years later, a druid, a warlock, a fighter, and wizard run out of a house and into a battlefield.

***

Present Day

Splintering wood awoke the black-haired man from his recurring nightmare, and Connor Johnson sat up straight in his bed, blinking sleep from his eyes. His green gaze swept his entire room, trying to see what had broken.

In the next moment, he heard boots thudding on the stairs to the upper level. "The village is under attack!" a familiar voice bellowed, panic in his tone. "West Harbor is under attack!"

Connor flung his covers aside immediately and searched for the leathers he wore for armor. He heard a muffled curse from the next room over, and he turned when he heard rapid knocking on his door. "Bevil, what's going on?" he asked, reaching over and opening the door.

His best friend, Bevil Starling, froze mid-knock. "I'm not sure," he shook his head, eyes darting from Connor fixing his bracers to the staircase, fingers drumming on his sword hilt anxiously. "They came pouring in from the swamp and just started tearing the village apart!"

His sister's best friend's blonde head poked in through the doorway. "We'd better hurry," Amie Fern chewed her lip nervously. "I saw some of them following us on our way here. They're likely to hit this house next."

Connor nodded and grabbed his scimitar from where it leaned against the wall, then stepped out into the hallway. "Savannah?" he called as Amie disappeared into the next room, which was cracked open.

"I'm up!" her voice called faintly, then Amie hurried out. Savannah was the next out, wearing similar leathers to Connor, hers in dark colors while Connor's were earthy. "Let's go!"

Connor nodded, hurrying down the stairs as quickly as he could. "Were you able to see who the attackers are?" he asked over his shoulder.

"No," Bevil shook his head, following right behind Connor; behind him, Savannah was sliding her throwing stars into sheaths on her gauntlets while Amie rubbed her hands anxiously. "I could hear them coming, but it was too dark to see them."

"Or maybe that gives us a hint about who they are," Savannah muttered thoughtfully.

Connor shook his head; it wasn't in response to his sister's words. "Who in the Nine Hells would want to attack West Harbor?" he wondered, reaching the ground floor.

He had barely taken three steps when the door, shut by Bevil and Amie when they entered, burst apart, and three dwarves with dark grey skin sprinted inside, daggers in hand. He faltered, eyes wide when he recognized the race, then he quickly drew his scimitar and ran forward. Amie's chanting faded to the background as he swung at the first grey dwarf, easily piercing through the dwarf's heart. Amie's magic missiles downed the second, and Bevil's longsword sliced through the last like he was cutting through butter.

Savannah had one of her shuriken in her hand, but she hadn't thrown it. Instead, she was gawking at the bodies on the floor. "Duergar?" she asked, crouching down to examine them closer.

"From the Underdark?" Amie's eyes lit up.

"What are they doing on the surface?" Connor scratched his head.

"I think that goes back to your first question," Bevil said as they headed for the door. "What are they doing in West Harbor?"

Connor stepped outside and quickly had to duck before a thrown dagger hit him in the forehead. He threw his hand out, and thick roots sprouted from the ground and wrapped around the ankles of the dwarves he saw. Savannah's stars spiraled through the air past his ear, and if one wasn't dead, Bevil ran them through with his sword. Amie sighed in relief, then screamed. "Connor!"

Connor spun around to see a hidden dwarf lunge at him, but an animalistic screech made him slump in relief. The dwarf spun around and was met by another charging mass of grey, and Bevil watched with wide eyes are the dwarf was impaled by tusks. "Connor," he swallowed hard. "Your boar scares me."

Connor just smiled and crouched down. "Hello, girl," he beckoned, and with an affectionate snort, his animal companion trotted over. "Thank you, Vhaera."

The boar nudged his hand, and Connor patted her snout. "Well, if anyone doubts you're a druid, there you go," Savannah snickered.

Connor rose to his feet, Vhaera stomping her hooves on the ground. "We'd better find the others," he began.

"Thank Lathander!" a relieved call came from several paces away, and Connor looked past a burning wheelbarrow to see the village's priest, Brother Merring, stand from where he was attending to several villagers' wounds. Connor jogged over, the words of small healing spells on his lips as he bent down to see who he could help. Brother Merring placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing quickly. "I saw some of those creatures enter your house, and it is good to see you safe."

"You as well, Brother Merring," Connor agreed, watching soft teal light surround those he tried to heal; his spells weren't as strong as he would have liked, but they were healing. "Do you know what's happening?"

"No," Brother Merring sighed. "I don't know where these beasts came from, but we need every sword at the southern bridge – more of those creatures are no the way, and in greater numbers. Georg is trying to gather the militia, but I fear he will not be able to marshal a defense in time, and without his help, this village will fall."

"Understood," Bevil nodded, hefting his sword.

"Do you need any help here?" Connor asked Brother Merring.

"Georg will need you more than I," Brother Merring shook his head. "I will stay here and act now. Every man I can heal and get back into the fight, the greater our chances. Head south along the road. I shall stay here and look for the wounded, then join you. Georg should be at the bridge. Join him quickly; he will no doubt have orders for you."

"I bet," Savannah's eyes flared with arcane power.

"On our way," Connor rose to his feet.

"But before you go," Brother Merring held up a hand, "take this blessing from Lathander, all of you."

He chanted a few words, and bright rays of gold showered over them. Connor closed his eyes, a smile on his face as he felt the warmth of the blessing of the sun god; he was a follower of Lurue, the queen of talking beasts, but any blessing they received would aid them. "Thank you, Brother Merring," he nodded respectfully, then turned to his sister and friends. "The bridge it is."

***

The duergar crowding the few militiamen Georg had gathered scattered the moment Vhaera charged towards them. I imagine a charging boar is an intimidating sight, Connor thought with a grin, joining his animal companion and swinging at a dwarf who thought he would try his luck at stabbing his animal friend in the back. Amie launched more of her magic missiles, the purple light sailing into dwarves as Savannah's throwing stars punctured through their leather armor with ease.

Connor whirled around when he felt someone behind him, and he jerked back, returning his scimitar to his side when he realized he had been about to gut the leader of the militia. "Thank the gods you made it!" Georg sighed in relief. "There's been no sign of your father, and I feared you and Savannah had been killed as well."

"Our father's dead?" Connor's eyes widened.

Savannah's head shot up in horror, but Georg shook his head. "I hope he isn't, but no one has seen him at all. Hopefully he'll join the fight soon. If not . . . " He trailed off at the tears in Savannah's eyes, then quickly switched tactics. "I have no idea where these creatures came from or what they want, but the ones loose in the village are only the first wave. More are coming, a lot more."

"This isn't nearly enough to hold them off," Amie frowned, looking around at the two standing militiamen and the one collapsed on the ground, bleeding.

"No, it's not," Georg agreed. "With you and a half-dozen more, we can meet at the wheat field and hold these creatures off."

"We'll start looking," Connor slid his scimitar into its sheath.

"Connor!" Bevil's call came from a few paces away.

Connor craned his neck to find his friend, and he let out a muffled curse as he ran over. "Ward?"

One of the village bullies gave him a bloody smile, clutching at the wounds in his stomach. "Come to gloat, Johnson?" he rasped. "Still, I took a bunch down before they got me."

"Excellent job, Ward," Connor said, crouching down to examine the wounds. "Gods, I can barely see you through all this blood."

"Damn creatures coming out of nowhere," Ward grimaced as Connor prodded at a particularly nasty stab. "My brother," he suddenly asked, grabbing Connor's arm. "My brother, Wyl, you seen him?"

"Not yet," Connor shook his head, looking behind him to where Savannah and Amie were watching. "Scout ahead?" he requested.

Savannah nodded, and she and Amie ran over the bridge. "If you can find him, Connor," Ward mumbled. "Please, he's my brother . . . "

Connor looked around, then pointed at a nearby tree. "Bevil, I need as many of those herbs as you can get." Bevil hurried over, and Connor took a roll of bandages from one of his belt pouches. "Ward, listen to me," he made the young man look at him. "I can staunch the bleeding, but stay still."

Ward swallowed hard. "Thanks, Connor," he said as Bevil returned, carrying a large handful of the herbs. "I appreciate it."

***

It only took a minute or so to patch up Ward's wounds enough for him to feel comfortable getting to his feet and taking up his sword again. As he ran over the bridge, heading for the wheat field, Connor took Bevil and Vhaera to join Lazlo Buckman in taking out duergar trying to kill a cowering Ian Harman. Savannah and Amie were emerging from a house nearby, a summoned wolf pawing at Amie's feet. Bevil joined Lazlo in hacking at the duergar while Connor hurried up to Ian. "Are you hurt?" he asked, examining him.

"Eh . . . Connor?" Ian blinked, then glowered at him, making Connor do a double take. "Get away! Didn't you see those creatures out there? They're killing everyone!"

"And that's why the militia needs to be gathered," Connor countered. "That includes you."

"What, you're dragging me out there to die?" Ian scoffed. "Not on your life! I'm staying right here!"

Connor gritted his teeth, seeing Bevil clap Lazlo on the shoulder and the village brewer run down the path to the field. "Ian, if you don't fight now, none of us have a chance."

Ian swallowed hard. "But I tried to fight. There's so many of them . . . too many."

"It won't be just you," Connor assured him. "Others will meet at the wheat field, but you'll die alone if you stay here."

Ian sighed. "All right, all right, I'm going. I'll meet you there . . . if I'm not dead when you arrive."

Connor rolled his eyes at Ian's last barb. "Wonderful speaking to you, too, Ian," he muttered as the man ran off.

"That's exactly the attitude we want if we don't want to survive the night," Bevil scowled.

"At least Ian tried to fight," Savannah said as she walked up. "Pierson locked himself in his house and tried to convince me and Amie to do the same."

"Looks like you got him moving, though," Connor nodded, seeing Ian catch up to the other man.

"Finally," Savannah nodded. "How's Ward?"

"Up and moving, thank the gods," Connor answered, his gaze sweeping over the village. Each of the homes seemed quiet; either people were hiding, or those who could fight were already out. "Have you found anyone – "

A loud explosion from several paces away made the four cover their ears. "Sweet Chauntea, what was that?" Bevil sputtered.

"Arcane magic," Savannah answered, face draining of color. "Tarmas!"

Amie was already running towards where the magic had come from, her face even paler than Savannah's. Connor didn't blame her; when Amie was orphaned, it was Tarmas who had taken her in, becoming her foster father and her mentor in arcane arts. "Amie!" Connor shouted, running after her. "Wait!"

He found her by the well, watching the mage's duel occurring with wide eyes. Tarmas was surrounded by a glittering shield of magic, throwing a sphere of electricity at his opponent: a green-skinned creature in a strange, two-piece robe. "You four stay out of this!" the village wizard managed to snap. "It's too dangerous!"

He was proven right when the opposing mage fired off four magic missiles in quick succession. They smashed into Tarmas's shield; the magic held, but it shimmered much less than before. "Master, just hold on!" Amie insisted, running forward. "We can help!"

"Amie!" Savannah reached out to grab her arm.

Amie yanked her arm out of Savannah's grip and conjured her own missiles, sending them into the opposing mage. Unlike the creature's spell, which had almost shattered Tarmas's shield, the missiles fizzled out of existence the moment they touched his shield. "So the whelp seeks to test herself," he narrowed his eyes. "How pathetic."

Connor caught the orange flickers around his hands just in time. He shouted as quickly as he could and sent his spell to Amie just as the opposing mage conjured flaming orbs that flew towards his friend. His spell imbued Amie with enough protection that she was only burned horribly, not charred to death. Still, Amie fell to the ground with a gut-wrenching scream, flames burning her dress. "Vhaera, protect!" Connor called telepathically.

"I shall waste no more time on this pitiful village," the mage sneered. "It is not here."

As Vhaera ran to Amie, Bevil hurrying to attempt to help put out the flames, the mage summoned three large spiders that immediately scurried to Tarmas. "Savannah?" Connor spun desperately.

Savannah was already chanting, her words guttural and more ominous than Amie's and Tarmas's. Her eyes glowed purple, and the opposing mage quickly turned and fled as Savannah channeled her eldritch power and directed it towards him. Savannah caught him in the back and made his shield buckle, but the spiders changed direction and headed for her before she could summon her magic again. Savannah was left to throw her stars as quickly as she could while Connor attempted to avoid getting tangled in the spider's webs.

Bevil rejoined them shortly, his sword a flurry of motion as he attacked the things that the opposing mage had left behind. Soon, all that was left of the arachnids were guts and mangled remains of webs. As soon as the last spider was dead, Connor ran to Amie, swallowing hard when he saw her unconscious, her skin red with burns. "The stupid girl!" Tarmas snarled, his voice wavering as he stood over Connor's shoulder, the druid saying the words of his strongest healing spell. "I told her to stay out of it!"

"Connor?" Savannah whispered, eyes brimming with tears. "Is she – ?"

"She's alive," Connor nodded, hanging his head in relief as Bevil almost collapsed. "Thank Lurue, she's alive."

Tarmas breathed a sigh of relief as well. "Good," he said. "I'll find Brother Merring and send him here. There's more for the three of you to do, though. Georg and the militia are holding our attackers at bay on the Starling farm. We must hurry before the tide turns."

"Especially if there are any other mages like that one," Savannah threw a nasty look in the direction the mage had vanished. "If so, we need everyone we can find."

Connor looked up and could already see Brother Merring running towards them, the healed Harbormen gathering on the opposite side of the bridge. "Let's go," he reluctantly stood.

Vhaera nudged his leg comfortingly. "She lives," she told him. "You saved her."

"I know," Connor patted her head, turning with Savannah and Bevil towards the Starling farm. "I hope she stays safe."

***

The battle for West Harbor continues next chapter.

graphic by marvelity

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