Mitchell stared, struck mute as he watched Allora emerge in full armor. She strode like a warrior queen into the courtyard of the Mighty Nine where they were all assembled. The purple and black leather hugged her form, flowing over her torso like a second skin. Its pauldrons, rather than being up around her shoulders, were set lower on her arms leaving her chest exposed, her breasts on proud display. One of the first thoughts that entered Mitchell's mind—besides how bad-ass she looked—was boob armor. It definitely didn't look practical, but he could not pull his eyes away from all that exposed flesh.

The suit pulled in tight around her hips and there was a flowing center piece that went down between her legs and stopped just above the knee with her legs exposed on either side. She had even swapped out her ornate krisa, that was made of silver and gold wire, to a metallic headband that was the same color as the pauldrons, and the buckles of her armor. Her sword hung in its scabbard on her left side and she stood tall and proud, her violet eyes fierce and determined. She moved with a deadly grace that he hadn't really seen in her before. Something about being in her armor changed her whole demeanor. The other clothes she wore were an affectation. A costume, of sorts. In those, she was Allora De Annen, the elf. Strong and proud, to be sure. But in her armor, she was an Onyx Knight, an elite warrior standing tall on the shoulders of a tradition that went back nearly a thousand years. She was magnificent.

All around him, the assembled knights and even Lethelin bowed as she entered, each of them imparting a greeting to their lord captain. Only Mitchell remained standing, wide eyed at the transformation that had come over her.

"Allora, you look..." Mitchell tried to put it into words but he found he didn't quite know how to express it. "Damn."

Her eyes flicked to his and he could see that his shock pleased her. The corner of her mouth ticked up ever so slightly and then she turned her attention back to the rest of their party.

"Arise," she told the others, and they all did as one, the quiet courtyard filled with the sound of creaking leather and the metallic rustle of chainmail. It was then that he noticed the stark difference between the armor of all the others. Gilriel and the errant knights all wore much more practical attire suitable for heavy combat. Full plate, chainmail, thick leather gambesons, the whole nine yards. But while the women, Gilriel and Elrin, were still fine to look upon, their armor had none of the exposed flesh of Allora's.

Allora picked up on his confusion quickly as she saw him studying their gear and hers.

"This is my ceremonial armor," she explained. "I was wearing it the night of the coup, and fled the palace with it. My battle armor is likely still in the palace."

"This," she gestured to her exposed chest, "is a little more... decorative than my other set, but enchantments built into the metal offer nearly as much protection once they are activated."

When she drew his attention to it, Mitchell could indeed see the runes worked into the metal of the pauldrons and bracers.

"They function as a sort of shield spell but, because they rely on the storage capacity of the gems worked into the armor, they will fail after a time."

"As long as you'll be safe in it."

"She will be," Gilriel said coming up beside him. "Safe enough, at any rate. I wish we had time to get you into a proper set, my lord."

Gilriel eyed the second-hand armor that Mitchell was still wearing and frowned.

"But with Allora and Lethelin at your side, I think you'll be as safe as can be for now."

Lethelin came up and stood by Allora, her eyes moving over the knight's bare flesh hungrily.

"If we make it through all this, can you wear that to bed?"

Gilriel groaned and rolled her eyes.

"Stollar's cock, girl. Keep your pants on!"

"I wouldn't mind, either," Mitchell agreed.

Allora tried unsuccessfully to suppress a grin.

"Focus, please, the both of you," Allora reminded them.

"You're right, sorry," Mitchell told her and cleared his throat.

Then he turned his attention back to the knights group.

Out beyond the courtyard walls of the inn that had sheltered them these last few days, the sounds of commotion could already be heard. Alarm bells and whistles had filled the pre-dawn hours and more than once the sound of rushing soldiers or guardsman had been heard charging down the street. The smell of smoke was heavy in the cool air and the sky was just beginning to lighten in the east.

"Can you cast the language spell on us, Allora? I have some things I want to say, and I don't trust my Common enough to get it right."

It had been some time since she'd needed to use the language spell on him, but she did it without hesitation. He felt the tingle of the spell settle over him and saw a few of the others shiver as well as the spell settled over the entire group.

With Allora standing on his right and Lethelin on his left, Mitchell met the eyes of each member of his strike team. He could feel the weight of their expectation bearing down on him like a mountain. Everything had been building towards this. He was their monarch and they were charging into battle on his command. Their lives were in his hands and some or all of them might not live to see another dawn. The responsibility of it was enough to make his knees weak. Still, he inhaled and set his shoulders.

"I'm not one for big speeches," he began slowly, "but I wanted to take a few moments before we depart to speak with you."

He felt Allora's fingers find his, and she gripped his hand tightly. When he spoke again, his voice was stronger than before.

"You all had your reasons for leaving and I thank you for returning to help us retake the city. I am a stranger in this land, as I'm sure you have all figured out. Allora brought me here from the human home world just a few months ago. I arrived unable to use magic or a sword, nor could I even speak Common. But through her strength, guidance, and wisdom, I stand ready to fight alongside you to take back the city and, from there, drive out the invaders that have brought such ruin to the land you all call home. To the land that I now call home, as well.

"Outside these thin walls lies a storm we might not return from. We have a whole city of enemy soldiers aligned against us, and guardsmen whose loyalty we cannot trust. Some might say charging into that is foolishness to the point of madness. And maybe they're right. But I call it courage.

"Since I have arrived in this land, I have heard stories about the unmatched skill and bravery of the Onyx Knights. How, through your strength of arms and dedication to your duty, you helped maintain a peace and prosperity that has lasted nearly a thousand years.

"That peace was shattered and the knights nearly broken. Much was lost in that terrible attack two years ago, and I know that you all grieve. But I also know this: outside these walls, the enemy is terrified. The city is filled with soldiers all sent to track down one single Onyx Knight and we have gathered seven to greet them. If only one could inspire such terror, what could seven do?

"Through the help of our allies, the soldiers are exhausted, stretched thin, and ill-prepared for the hellfire we are about to unleash. And hellfire it will be. The vengeance of a nation is about to descend on them. The might of eight hundred years of battle-hardened steel, and elemental magic.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

"So, look to the knight beside you. That is your shield. That is your strength. Together, we shall give the people something that they will speak of for generations—a tale of the last Onyx Knights who stood in unyielding defiance, of warriors who stood unbroken in the face of impossible odds. Knights who brought justice to the wicked, and revenge for our fallen brothers and sisters.

"This is our moment. Let us write it with courage, with sacrifice, and with love for Awen, and the land she has made bountiful for us. To battle, my friends. To victory!"

As the final words left his mouth, Mitchell felt suddenly drained. He didn't know where that speech had come from, but he felt the truth of every word as he spoke it. Drawing in a deep breath, he refocused on the assembled warriors and saw tears in some eyes, and expressions of terrible determination on others. The courtyard was silent and Mitchell turned to Allora only to find her already looking at him, her eyes brimming with tears.

"How'd I—"

Allora flung her arms around him and kissed him so hard she almost knocked him over.

"Yaay!" Mitchell suddenly heard Khardin scream into the stillness. "Hellfire indeed, aye!"

Allora pulled away, laughing and sniffling.

"My lord," she said breathlessly. "That was amazing!"

"Really?" Mitchell felt the heat begin to build in his cheeks.

He looked back at the fighters and as he did, Eldrick and Elrin both saluted in unison, hand to heart, lips, and head. Their matching coppery-red eyes alight with righteous fury. Vanthalla had drawn both of her blades and had crossed them over her chest. As he looked at her, she bowed low. Gilriel drew her sword in a flourish and, much like that day she named Allora Lord Captain, placed the point into the ground and knelt before him.

"To battle, my lord Mitchell," she said, her voice tight with emotion. "To victory."

"To battle!" Hackett cried out, arising from his bow and executing a sharp salute. "To victory!"

"To battle!" Khardin screamed again, thrusting his great axe into the air. "We'll send these dirt-licking jivi fuckers to the darkness, aye!"

"Balls and fucking taint," Lethelin said, staring at him. "Where did you learn to talk like that?"

"It's almost enough to make me join up myself," came a new voice behind them.

Mitchell spun towards the inn to see Falen sanding there, two of his bodyguards flanking on either side. He had forsaken his stylish toga-like garments for a set of leather armor. He had a longsword at his hip and a dagger on the other side. Mitchell could make out the slight glint of runes worked into the armor, as well.

"Right on time," Mitchell said, smiling at the crime boss.

"I didn't come alone, either."

Falen's eyes flicked up to the trees in the courtyard and Mitchell followed his gaze to a patch of shadow high up that had glittering green eyes. Mitchell smiled.

"Everyone," Mitchell called out into the sounds of jubilation. "There's just one more thing..."

"Oh balls," Lethelin muttered, as she spotted Vras up in the trees as well and knowing what was about to happen. "This ought to be good."

***

"I enlisted the help of another edrokii and, between the two of us, we've sent the watch into a frenzy. It cost me one of my best gambling dens to get him to agree to it, but I'm sure you're good for it," Falen said with a wicked smile.

"Have the gates been closed?"

"Just after midnight," Falen confirmed. "Mysterious fires broke out at every guard station and watch barracks. The fire teams have all been bribed to stay home and so most of them have burned to the ground. If fires spread to buildings, they will work to control those, but won't give any help to any military positions. I've got wagons and carts clogging up every main thoroughfare in the city at various points. As soon as the soldiers would clear one, three more would show up, and they were getting sniped at the entire time. I've had my mages and archers picking off any soldier caught walking alone, and they travel in groups of at least three or four now. My spies tell me they've been working non-stop trying to get a handle on the situation since yesterday morning. They're exhausted and have taken a fair number of losses."

"That's what we wanted," Mitchell said as they crept to the end of the street.

"The outer city has mostly been abandoned and they've pulled back towards the palace and have been fortifying it as best they could under the assaults. We've had less success there as hit-and-run tactics don't work well against fortified positions. But they know we're coming. They're prepared."

"It's alright, I expected that," Mitchell told him. "And they're not prepared for what's coming. Are the runes in place?"

"They should be. I had the team running all day yesterday hiding them at every large intersection in the city and several of the smaller ones."

They all crouched low under the awning of a glassblower's shop and Mitchell signaled for Khardin to come to the front of the column. The big dwarf edged around Vras, doing his best not to touch a single strand of fur on the shadow cat's body, nearly scampering away once he was clear.

"Balls and bloody fucking taint," he mumbled as he came up next to Mitchell. "Balls and taint!"

The dwarf was actually shuddering at having to be in close proximity to such a creature but he mastered himself.

"Aye, my lord."

"The runes are in place. Are you sure this will work?"

"It's an easy enough spell, my lord, aye. It won't last but a minute or two as the ink and paper won't withstand much mana before it burns out, but it should be enough, aye."

"What gave you this idea?" Falen asked him.

Mitchell shrugged.

"The way everyone talked about the knights. They are like the soul of Awenor. A symbol to the whole nation of its power. Lethelin told me once that seeing them killed was like watching the Skybreaker Peaks crumble to dust. The people lost the will to fight without the knights to rally behind. But if they learn that the knights are still alive and are fighting for the city, I'm betting a good number of people will show up to help us."

"That's right!" Lethelin said from behind. "I gave him the idea. That was mine!"

Mitchell chuckled.

"Whenever you're ready, Khardin."

Khardin withdrew a small piece of metal from somewhere inside his armor. On it, a rune had been etched that he'd said was for a spell called thaumaturgy. It could create a few different sensory effects, depending on how the rune was constructed and, for today, it would work as a microphone.

When Mitchell had been discussing the best way to announce the return of the Onyx Knights the day before, Khardin said he could use thaumaturgy to increase the volume of his voice so that anyone within a half a kilometer would hear it if he yelled loudly enough, but it wouldn't reach the entire city. Gilriel, a master-level enchanter, had asked him if the spell could be transmitted through linked runes. Through some trial and error, they'd figured out how to link connecting runes to broadcast his message just like a microphone would on Earth. Mitchell marveled at the ingenuity of it and remembered Luvari telling him not to underestimate the people here just because they didn't use electricity.

"Once its charged, just speak into it, my lord captain, aye. It should carry to all the runes that they've placed around the city."

Allora nodded, and cleared her throat.

"I am ready."

A stone on Khardin's krisa glowed and Mitchell saw light begin to fill the rune etched into the metal plate. He then handed it to Allora, who brought it in front of her mouth. Taking a deep breath, she began her short, prepared speech.

"People of Lorivin, my name is Allora De Annen, Onyx Knight, daughter of Lord Captain Travelor Ne Annen, and defender of Awenor."

All across the city Allora's voice boomed out and echoed down the streets. Several members of the party gasped at the sound and stared in awe at the dawn sky where Allora's voice boomed like a message from the heavens.

Allora continued, knowing she didn't have long before the weak paper runes burned out.

"I have come to reclaim the city from the invaders but I need your help. Arise from your beds and march on the palace. The Onyx Knights have returned. Help us now to take back the city. Now is the time! Stand with us!"

Khardin did something and the message repeated once more, filling the quiet streets with her commanding voice. It had been decided that she should be the one to give the message because all knew that she lived and was being hunted.

The message began a third time, but didn't get halfway through before it abruptly cut off.

"That's it then, aye. The runes have burned out."

"It was enough," Mitchell said. "Thank you, Khardin."

"What do we do now?" Lethelin asked.

"Shh!" Mitchell said. "Listen."

"I don't hear any---" then the thief's voice cut out as the sound made it to her ears.

Shouting. It was faint at first, and they couldn't pinpoint the location, but it was growing. It wasn't long before shouting came from one or two streets over. Then on their very own street. People opened windows and doors, some looking like they'd barely slept. The shouts that had been indistinct were becoming clearer now.

"The knights have returned!"

"To the palace!"

"Allora!"

"March on the palace! The knights have returned!"

And it continued on. Soon, the shouts echoing across the city were just as loud as Allora's voice had been. From their huddled position in the shadows of the darkened shop, they watched as people began filing out of homes and storefronts. Some carried weapons, work tools, pots or pans, kitchen knives, and some carried nothing at all, but their voices were raised.

"We march!" came the cry.

"For the Knights!"

"For Awen!"

"For Allora!"

Mitchell grabbed Allora, pulled her close and kissed her.

"They're marching for you, love," he told her. "Are you ready?"

She nodded, her face determined.

"Knights, form up," Mitchell called to his squad. "Keep Vras at the center until we engage the enemy."

Everyone signaled their readiness and as one, they got up and joined the mass of people. They were all wearing cloaks to hide their armor until they got closer and few people took notice of them as they began to push towards the palace. Just a few more citizens of Lorivin off to march on the palace.

"Here we go," Mitchell said.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.