Chapter 34: The Gathering Storm
The aftermath of the battle at the Scholars' Refuge left the Iron Order scarred but resolute. The severance of the fragment had bought them time, but the Heralds' warning echoed in their minds: the Shard's core was awakening, and its power would soon be unleashed.
General Rhyssa Kord stood in the Refuge's central chamber, surrounded by her commanders. A detailed map was spread across the table, marked with the locations of known Shard activity. Her expression was grim but determined.
"We've fought them on every front," Kord began, her voice steady. "We've won battles, but they've been buying time to consolidate their power. If the Shard's core awakens, it will be the end of everything we've fought to protect."
Jorath leaned over the map, his scarred face shadowed in the torchlight. "The core. Do we even know where it is?"
Seralyne stepped forward, holding an ancient tome she'd retrieved from the Refuge's archives. "We have a lead. The scholars uncovered a text that speaks of the Heart of the Shard—an ancient site deep in the Obsidian Wastes. It's said to be the nexus of the Shard's power."
Ilryn frowned. "The Obsidian Wastes? That's uncharted territory. Even if we can reach it, we'll be walking into the heart of their defenses."
"That's exactly why we have to act now," Kord said firmly. "If we wait, they'll solidify their hold, and we'll lose any chance of stopping them."
Rallying Allies
Kord knew the Iron Order couldn't face the Heralds alone. Their numbers were too few, their resources stretched thin. They needed allies—and quickly.
"Jorath," Kord said, turning to her trusted lieutenant, "you'll head west to the Kingdom of Altheris. Their forces are strong, but they've stayed neutral in this conflict. Convince them this is their fight too."
Jorath nodded, already strapping his sword to his back. "If they don't listen to words, they'll listen to the scars."
"Ilryn," Kord continued, "I'm sending you north to the Frostmarch Tribes. They've been fighting off the Shard's corruption on their borders. If anyone understands the stakes, it's them."
Ilryn smirked. "I'll make sure they understand we're not asking—we're offering them a chance to fight back."
Kord turned to Seralyne. "And you'll stay here. Work with the scholars to refine the containment and disruption spells. If we're going to destroy the core, we need to ensure it can't unleash its power on us in the process."
"And what about you?" Seralyne asked.
"I'll head south," Kord replied. "The Free Cities have mercenaries who could tip the scales. They don't care about alliances, but they'll follow gold—and we'll make it worth their while."
The Journey South
Kord's journey to the Free Cities was swift but perilous. The Shard's influence had spread further than she anticipated. Once-thriving towns now lay in ruins, their inhabitants twisted into grotesque forms.
As Kord's small company approached the gates of Delsor, the largest of the Free Cities, they were met with skepticism. The city's leaders, a council of merchants and warlords, were wary of the Iron Order's intentions.
"You want us to risk our lives for a cause that isn't ours?" one of the councilors scoffed.
"It is your cause," Kord replied, her tone sharp. "The Shard's corruption doesn't care about borders. You've already seen its effects on the outlying settlements. Do nothing, and it will consume you next."
The room fell silent. One of the warlords, a grizzled veteran named Daran Vol, leaned forward. "And if we join you, what do we gain?"
Kord met his gaze. "Survival. Victory. A place in the history of a world that didn't fall to darkness."
After a tense pause, Daran stood. "You've got my blades. The Free Cities will fight."
The Western Envoy
Jorath's mission to Altheris was no less challenging. The kingdom's rulers were hesitant to intervene, fearing the consequences of choosing sides.
"They see us as relics of a war that already ended," Jorath said to his second-in-command as they awaited an audience with King Arthel. "We need to show them the war is far from over."
When Jorath finally met the king, he laid a shard fragment on the table, its faint glow filling the chamber. "This is what we're up against," he said. "You can't ignore it. The Shard's power will spread, and when it does, your armies won't be enough to stop it."
King Arthel regarded the fragment with a mixture of awe and fear. "And what makes you think the Iron Order can?"
Jorath drew his sword, its reforged edge gleaming. "Because we've done it before. And we'll do it again—with your help."
After a long deliberation, the king nodded. "Altheris will stand with the Iron Order."
The Frostmarch Accord
Ilryn's arrival in the Frostmarch Tribes was met with immediate hostility. The tribes were fiercely independent, and their distrust of outsiders was legendary.
"You come here with words," the tribal leader growled, "but words won't drive back the darkness."
Ilryn smiled grimly. "Then let me show you."
He led the tribe's warriors to the edge of the corruption, where a cluster of Shard-tainted creatures had begun to emerge. With a precision born of countless battles, Ilryn led the charge, cutting through the beasts with ruthless efficiency.
When the battle was over, the tribal leader approached him, nodding in approval. "You've proven yourself, outsider. The Frostmarch will join your fight."
A Fragile Alliance
Days later, the leaders of the allied factions gathered at the Scholars' Refuge. The chamber was filled with tension as warriors, mages, and strategists debated the best course of action.
"The Heralds won't wait for us to strike," Daran Vol said. "We need to hit them before they can regroup."
"We don't have the numbers for a direct assault," Ilryn countered. "We need to focus on the Shard's core. Take that out, and the Heralds lose their power."
Seralyne stepped forward, her voice calm but commanding. "The scholars have pinpointed the core's location. It lies in the heart of the Obsidian Wastes, protected by a fortress built from Shard fragments. Destroying it won't be easy, but it's our only chance."
Kord stood, silencing the room with a raised hand. "This alliance wasn't easy to build, and it won't hold if we falter now. We strike together, as one force. The Iron Order will lead, but this is a fight for all of us."
The leaders nodded, their resolve hardening.
March to the End
As the allied forces prepared for the march to the Obsidian Wastes, Kord stood before her commanders, her voice steady and clear.
"This is the final battle," she said. "The Shard's power has brought this world to the brink of destruction. But we've faced impossible odds before—and we've prevailed. We will do so again."
The commanders saluted, their determination mirrored in Kord's gaze.
The storm was gathering, and the final confrontation with the Shard was at hand. The world's fate rested on the shoulders of the Iron Order and their allies.
The war was far from over, but the end was in sight.