The not-immortal Blacksmith

Gilip, Capital of Demonia.

29th of Anael, First month of Snow.

2290 years since the New Gods came.

Maxwell sat in a spartan room, with the three generals of Demonia. The only decorations being highly detailed maps hung on the walls. The conversation had been going for all of thirty minutes, and he was already bored to tears. “So we have six hundred of the Order, the fifteen hundred city guards, and a thousand army troops. Did I miss anything?”

General Klouse, a larger than normal half-demon looked up from the supply records he had been reading from, “Yes, lord Heretic.”

“And we have three gates to cover, as well as keeping the peace?” Max continued.

“Yes lord Heretic.” General Sven, a human, replied.

“And the enemy has nearly eight thousand troops at their disposal?” Max asked.

“Yes lord Heretic.” The third general, an ancient man of determinant age, replied. “In a full frontal assault we will all die. In a pincer style attack we all die. In a full defensive operation, we die of starvation in two months at the most.”

“Then we evacuate the city.” Max said. “If all roads lead to death, you retreat.”

The three generals stared at Max, mouths agape. Then the eldest smiled. “I knew I liked you.”

- - -

Brianna stood up and looked around their location. Plenty of trees, light snow cover, slightly rolling land, smoke to the east, no demons within sight. “I think we've taken enough time to rest. We need to proceed east, and scout the area.”

The three humans and the Pixie grumbled, but stood up, dusted themselves off, and followed her, as she started towards the distant smoke.

- - -

Planning an evacuation is never easy, and the more people you need to evacuate, the harder it gets. They would have restart at least one of the teleportation circles, and use the sewer tunnels. And make several raids on the enemy supplies to keep them from having time to notice the slow drain of people from the city.

Diplomatic Priest of Communications, Alexander, was having a very not fun day. He had spent the last week scouring the archives and storage rooms looking for one of the original communications 'Stone Boards'. One that wasn't connected to the newer spell lines, one that was connected to the old, or better yet 'original' backbone of the communications network. As a novice he had written a paper warning of the dangers of failure if something ever happened to one of the five nodes in the modern system, and how the spell code wasn't properly hardened so as to be able to handle the extra power draw if more than one node had to be shut down for emergency maintenance. He had even gotten help from the maths teacher on how much mana draw would cause an overload. His paper had been laughed at, and used as an example of “What not to write a report on”. He didn't feel very vindicated at the moment. No, he was just sad.

He was searching through the third sub floor storage room when his pocket started to vibrate. He stopped, and stuck his hand in the offending pocket to find out what was wrong when he remembered. That was where he had stuck the Heretic Stone. Shit. Now what? He answered the stone. “What!”

“Well a good day to you too, Alex.” Max said into his stone. “What do you know about the teleportation gate magic?”

“L...Lord Heretic...My apologies---” Alex began.

“It's Max. Maxwell if you must.” Max said, “Teleportation Gates?!”

“I know some of the basics. But you would be better off with Acolyte Joseph.” Alex replied, still searching through crates. “If you can hold on for a moment, I can... No, I can't connect you to him...” Then he saw the ancient board, hanging out the side of a crate in the back of the room. “I will call you right back.” He turned the stone off, and hurried about his task.

-

Max looked across the table to the generals, “That was weird. I wonder what the boy was looking for?”

-

Alex almost flew through the hallways of the communications department, laughing all the way. I knew it was still here! No one around here ever throws anything away that 'might' be useful! Just like in a junk/repair shop! Praise the Heretic's words! He skidded through a doorway, and slammed (carefully) the archaic board down. He gathered the glyph ribbons, and pushed them into the various slits in the board. Then he hummed the activation hymn. The board burst into light, then faded to the proper background colors of blue, red, and yellow. He took the Heretic Stone from his pocket, and fitted it into the main slot. Then gathered the Nation Stones from the array of broken boards that littered the floor. He cackled, “This should do it!” And plugged the ancient board into the spell repeater. White light once again began to fill the room.

-

General Bashot, eldest of the generals, and third oldest full-blooded demon in the city at the moment, felt the pebble in his pocket grow warm, then vibrate for a moment and go still again. “Gentlemen, I believe the Stone Network is back in action. Master Maxwell, if you would contact this Alexander person again?”

Max nodded, “Sure.”

- - -

The group hid in a thicket, and stared at the demon army in front of them. Thousands of demons, in all shapes and sizes were arrayed in clumps between them and the city of Gilip. They slowly crawled out of the thicket, and made their way back into the nearest clump of trees to talk.

“So what do we do now?” Nomvula asked, once they were settled in the depths of the trees.

“We could go around.” Chester suggested.

“We could sneak through the lines at night, and poison the food supplies.” Magni said, a twinkle in his eyes.

Brandywine stared at Magni, “I would laugh at that, if I didn't think you were serious.”

“It's a good idea. As long as you don't get caught.” Magni replied.

“Big 'if' there for a big man.” Bri said. “I think we should head south around the army, and come at the city from the south east.

Nobody argued.

- - -

Prince Lancil lay on a cot in his pavilion. “They have fire suppression units in the city, and the walls are holding against the combined force of the catapults?”

“Yes, my lord.” Vtev replied.

“And you are sure the Heretic isn't responsible for this turn of events?”

“We are certain of it.” Vtev said. “It would appear that they are following ancient scripture that was codified into law. Something about not letting the fire out of the forge, and keeping the forge walls strong to avoid them failing.”

“Curses. Void of the abyss take that man.” Lancil almost shouted. He sat up on the cot. We need to breach the walls before that idiot brings his army to bear. I still can't believe that moron declared war on one man! What the hells was he thinking?”

“We both know that he is known for his strength of body and magic, not for his strength of mind.”

Lancil smiled, “Yes. He is also well known for being incapable of building a tower out of building blocks.”