Going Feet First Ch. 05

Ahead of them in the broad tunnel were the seventy or so Red Sisters lined up in eight ranks, though their stances were noticeably more relaxed compared to the group behind them. Back in the city, their red leather armor and rose colored cloaks had been a fearsome sight, and their numbers did well to add to that effect.

The Faerdron, however, with their numbers a little more than two dozen, had a much more muted intimidation factor as they had stalked down the tunnel in step, black robes shifting in time with their body movements. Had Galen not known who they were, he would have thought them a funeral procession.

Identifying the leader of the third Drow group didn't prove a difficult task, as the majority of the regulars wore blue shawls over the shoulders of their black robes, while those of rank in front wore deep green. Only the one Drow at the head of the group wore a shawl of tanneran mail, and the hood and sleeves of her robe were colored a light blue. If Galen were to put any money at all on who lead the Faerdron, it would be her.

And these numbers don't even include the city guard, he thought from his spot at the heels of the three Sun-Kissed Commandants.

Necela was nowhere in sight though the Private could still feel her eyes on him. And that only added to his already wracked nerves. With such a high level VIP coming in and a Goddess keeping tabs, he didn't want to even move his eyes in the wrong way while he waited in position. He kept his rifle checked perfectly at his side, his body rigid, and his toes wiggling in his boots to keep at least some blood flowing through him as he kept still.

Half an hour passed with him standing in that position before unnatural sounds ehoed down the tunnel. Steel clinking as it met stone, the squeak of wheels needing grease, the heavy tromps of a riding lizard or lizards. Galen tensed as new life auras appeared in his Darkvision to reveal a platoon worth of Drow marching toward them. Several of the incoming Elves were mounted and rode steadily alongside those who walked; some wore heavy armor while others stuck to leather mixed with pieces of mail.

At the heart of the envoy was a carriage, one driven by a young male in rich looking clothing and pulled by two lizards outfitted with metal plates on their backs and helmets adorned with long, lethal horns.

There's her highness, Galen thought, standing a little straighter.

As the envoy approached the front of the Red Sisters' formation, the three leaders stepped forward to the carriage while their ranks broke up and started taking positions around the immediate area of their Princess. At the same time, Jrastra motioned with her hand and moved forward with the two other Commandants to meet with the Val'sharess' daughter.

"Keep close, Galen," Dreek commanded.

Bringing his rifle up to shoulder arms, the Private marched in step with the Drow leaders as they moved through the tide of red cloaks toward the royal. Many of the royal guard stared with bewildered looks, several reaching for weapons before Jrastra cast her eyes at them. A tension was brewing in the air, and he knew he was at the center of it.

When they were within forty yards of the Princess' transport and met the tight knit group of women that protected it, Jrastra motioned for her other Commandants to stay behind while she went ahead to meet with the three heads of the Red Sisters that were already waiting at the door. When the leader of the Faerdron waltzed past Galen and joined the other heads, they formed a semi-circle beside the carriage and waited.

The door opened, one more of the royal guard stepping out and taking a quick look around. When she stepped to the side, the Princess finally came forward. And the painting in the Sun-Kissed base was not far from the truth.

At first sight she seemed to nearly entrance all around her. Her gaze powerful as her soft features were endearing. The length of her hair flowed down to her shoulder blades with a triple wound braid running down the middle, the ends tied together by a leather strap. An atmosphere of power flowed around her as by simply narrowing her eyes she had every leader before her bowing their heads. And at this she smiled in a way that both captivated and chilled the watching Private.

On the fine line between what Galen thought to be a show of wealth, and the purpose to simply show, the Princess wore a dress split from her navel upward, the two halves generously covering her breasts and connecting to the collar around her neck, which was adorned with a metal emblem at her throat. There was a slit down the left side of her dress that revealed the garter, and blade, worn by the Queen's daughter for everyone to see. Just by how she walked was clear sign that none of the staring eyes could even cause a shift in her prideful stance.

She spoke with the commanders before her, and Galen kept watching while holding his position of attention. Each leader spoke out in a respectful, slightly submissive tone, and the Princess listened intently right until the moment the surfacer caught her eye. In a second the whole of her attention shifted. The Red Sister leader that was speaking to her was hushed as the Royal moved toward him with an inquisitive look and a paced gait.

Several of the guards around the human tensed, but Dreek remained composed at his side as she joined her hands in front of her waist away from her weapons. By his own volition, Galen brought his rifle back down to his side and snapped himself into the position of attention with his eyes dead straight. Hell would be the price to pay if he did a single thing to even give the inclination he meant disrespect.

When the Princess stopped before Galen, he could feel her gaze piercing the underside of his jaw. With her disadvantage in height she couldn't fully look him in the face, though she was sure to turn her eyes onto his body and steadily inspect every inch of him. Even going so far as to pace around him before she looked to Dreek.

Wish I had time to learn more of their language... he thought as the Princess and the Commandant spoke lowly in the Drow tongue, leaving him standing perfectly still with every eye in the tunnel turned to him. The heads of the Red-Sisters and Faerdron seemed a bit annoyed that he had pulled the royal's attention away, but right then something made their annoyance slip from his focus. Jrastra and a handful of Red Sisters shifted in their stances, some touching their temples and frowning as though the Empaths were fighting off headaches.

Curiosity driving him, he steadied his breath and sent his magic sense outward to feel his surroundings. Some guards glared at him as his awareness found its way to them, but he pressed on. He had to try and feel what was troubling the Empaths and settle the uneasy feeling in his gut.

When his ability touched the walls of the cave, a zap of energy jolted through his chest and into his skull. At once he was hit with a dull ache in his brain and ceased his sensing of his surroundings. In the Sun-Kissed base he could feel people through walls and floors, he could even do so in the Wizard's Overlook. But something was blocking that in this tunnel with a hostile effect.

"It seems I have as much to learn about the people in my city as I do the politics of it," the Princess said offhandedly, Galen's attention snapping to her as she finished her inspection. "What is your name, surfacer?"

"Private Galen Martin, ma'am."

Iim'treemay glanced at Dreek with a cocked eyebrow and muttered something in Drow.

"His rank, given name, family name, and the last an honorary term, my Qu'essan," the Commandant clarified, her eyes narrowing on Galen as she utilized the way of addressing.

At once the Private's gut sank as a paled look crawled onto his face. Oh shit... not ma'am, its 'my Qu'essan...' She told me this already...

"I will take this word of addressing me for this one time, I expect him to be wiser the next," the Princess replied, looking back to him. "I would expect one of the instruments to be used in removing a thorn in my side would be sharp and precise in all actions and wise in his choice of words, am I correct? ...Private?"

"Yes, my Qu'essan," he immediately answered.

Grinning, Iim'treemay nodded and shifted her focus to Dreek. "He is acceptable. If his ability matches his... umm... way of looking, then I haven't a worry."

"I assure, my Qu'essan," Dreek began, casting a wry grin at Galen. "His abilities do match his appearance. He is most satisfactory."

The eyes of the Princess narrowed on the Commandant for a moment before she turned back to her carriage and the leaders that awaited her. "Then bring him to my dining hall to join my meal this... 'evening.' I'll have you informed when to arrive."

"Yes, my Qu'essan," the third Commandant replied, almost giggling as she looked to Galen.

Dinner with royalty... Galen thought as he tipped his head back slightly and sighed. Fuck me...

...The hell is that?

Galen squinted as something caught his eye at the edge of his Darkvision. Whatever it was, it was opening a hole in the ceiling of the tunnel and edging something outward. He blinked, then tried to look again. It shifted toward him, then sent something right at him just as his vision registered the life aura. Had Galen not been wearing his helmet, the dart would've struck and in all likeliness pierced through his forehead. Dreek had only turned her head in reaction to the ping sound of it striking his steel dome when he was bringing his rifle up.

He soon saw other alcoves and tunnels appear. Not ones that were already there, but actually appear, as though the stone ceiling them up was vanishing into thin air... Or an illusion was falling apart.

"Get down!" he thundered, many heads turning his direction as the muzzle of his rifle flashed and cracked with the deafening blast.

The body falling from the ceiling attracted as many eyes as Galen's shot did, and before it hit the ground, he was already acquiring his next target poking its head out of another hole.

"Thalak'vel!" Dreek shouted.

An orb dropped from the ceiling then. It only fell a few yards before it froze in place and began spinning in place to unleash a ear-splitting screech into the tunnel with a flash of light powerful enough to blind anyone who lacked the proper shields. The Private stumbled, howling as he rubbed his eyes and tried to regain focus.

With some sort of coherence, he lowered his hands and looked around in a daze. The Drow around him were far worse off than he had been as their senses were significantly more sensitive than his own. Many were struggling to get into fighting order as both their hearing and vision was stripped from them at once. But that couldn't last, because dozens of... something now dropped from the openings in the ceiling and hit the ground with blades in hand.

"Ambush..." Galen muttered.

Groups of warriors, both Human and Drow, hit the tunnel floor and tore into the ranks of the guard and whoever else stood between them and the Princess's carriage. One landed right in front of Galen, the thin Drow drawing a dagger and rushing the Private with a throaty scream.

Acting on instinct, Galen stepped in with a front kick, driving his polished boot right up into the man's groin. When he fell to his knees, the Soldier smashed the butt of his rifle across his face and the second he hit the ground, aimed the weapon at his chest to blow a hole through his center of mass.

Right then, someone grabbed Galen's collar and jerked him back. He let out a scream and tried to bring the bayonet on the end of his rifle around to strike before a hand slapped him across the face. The blow made him blink and recognize a snarling Dreek who was pointing toward the Princess and her carriage while yelling something indiscernible. Even if the words weren't clear, the mission was.

Princess... protect... Galen thought, nodding to the Commandant as he stumbled toward the carriage.

When he managed to get his footing, he gave his head a shake and looked around. Most of the Sun-Kissed were diving into the chaos of violence already; the Private figured the attempt at blinding them was foiled by their time on the surface. Many of the Red-sisters were in the same shape, using what senses they had to combat the new enemy. All while members of the Faerdron cast spells at every Drow in sight, their magic restoring at least partial sense back to whoever received the charm.

One of such spells struck Galen in the head, the Private shaking himself out as his hearing adjusted for the screaming ball of light and his head cleared of the fog. He moved for the Princess's carriage, scanning for her at every moment. The waves of color that weren't identifiable with Darkvision were overwhelming for the Private and he had to get his bearings in the sea of black, red, blue, and yellow.

All around him people clashed and swung their weapons at each other, metal ringing and clanging endlessly. Sparks were cast, limbs were shed, blood was spilled. Where the Drow had training, these attackers had numbers and surprise. One human dropped before Galen, oddly giving him a rallying call and swinging a knife hand at the blood bath.

He thinks I'm with him? Galen thought as the man turned his back to him and drew a sword to charge a nearby Red Sister. Without hesitating the Private drove his bayonet through his back where his heart was. But as the body collapsed, the blade pulled easily from the flesh; something that had Galen wondering as he expected to have had to fight the blade free. After checking the black tip of the enchanted knife, he shrugged and carried on toward the Princess, stabbing and slashing any in his path that attacked her guard.

Never let those in charge get bunched up, or they could all get fragged at once. If you need orders and they're dead, you will lose your direction, and if that costs you your focus, then you're going to lose your life.

That line from battle school ran through Galen's head as he got a line of sight between him and Jrastra and the other Drow commanders. Surrounding those five was a force of human knights, and by how they handled themselves around the high powers they were obviously meant to counter their strength.

A dozen men in pitch black leathers and mail cowls swarmed around them while an additional two swung their glowing hands around in embellished motions. Several other knights in plate armor formed a perimeter around this clash to hold off the royal guard and keep them from protecting their Princess and the leaders of their elite units. A move that brought a sneer to the Private's face.

Bayonet brought to waist level, Galen charged toward the ring of steel made by the clashing knights and royal guard he charged, spearing his rifle over the shoulder of a Drow guard and through the helm of a knight. He was quick to pull his rifle back only to find the man he killed was immediately replaced by another, one who stood with his shield raised to hold off both the Private and the Drow he had assisted.

A sneer on his face, Galen fired two rounds through the knight's kite shield, taking in a small victory as his armor proved useless against the 7.62mm round.

With two men dead, a break in the line opened. One just large enough for Galen to charge through into the empty ground around the clash in front of the carriage. As he was ready to charge forth, a sharp, stabbing pain pierced his chest right through to his heart. His skin throbbed as though a blade tore open his back and severed his spine. The same pain he faced in the empowerment chamber in the chair that had drained his mana...

Both his eyes narrowed on those men making their embellished motions and right away could feel how his mana had become drawn toward them. There was no clear shot available with his rifle without the bullet carrying through into an ally, so he leveled his hand with the helm of the first mage and closed his eyes. What remained of his mana drew to his palm and the air around him warped. His focus tightened, his left arm trembling as everything he had went into the summoning spell. A second later, a great weight burdened his arm.

Opening his eyes, he spotted the black clad warrior dropping to the ground, his cowl in Galen's grasp and still trailing with a white wisp. It took only a second for a great warmth to fuel his belly as his lost mana returned.

In that instant the second mage noticed him and yelled something aloud as he whipped his arm toward the Private. A blue light had grown in his fingertips, only to immediately die off as both his hands slapped to his head. He fell to his knees and screamed at the top of his lungs while blood trailed out from his eyes. At least four other humans around him joined him in this newfound agony while the rest of his comrades burned or froze solid in their leather armors.

Looking to the leaders Galen watched as Jrastra held out her hands in the direction of the men that had tried to kill her, her lips moving as she chanted her spells. At her back was the head of the Faerdron casting spells onto the other commanders just as her sisters had to the rest of the Drow force. With their minds cleared of the damage done by the flare that still screamed above the battle, they turned their magic and blades in unison onto the men that invaded their underground.

In seconds the men in black armor fell to the Commanders spells, the knights that kept the royal guard at bay joining them seconds later.

Not wasting a second more, the Private ran for Jrastra while her fellow Commanders took to leading their troops. The first Commandant immediately took notice of Dreek's pet and for a split-second, even cracked a smile. All while ignoring the writhing human at her feet who continued to scream under the power of her Empathy.

"Good timing with the Arcane Culler, but why are you away from Dreek?" she questioned, having to yell over the sound of battle.

"Dreek ordered me here to protect the Qu'essan!" he answered.

The first Commandant frowned. "Then get atop the cart and use your weapon!"

"Yes, ma'am!"

He stepped over the corpses of the humans and darted to the carriage to climb up the side, using the wheel and door handle as points to lift himself onto the roof. Once on top, he was able to stand up straight and take in his complete surroundings.

Many of the combatants were too bunched up for him to start cracking shots. Any rounds he fired were bound to pass through the first target and into whatever stood behind them. He had to stop and think as he searched through the crowd aiming his rifle. Thirty yards off, one knight was booted back by a Red Sister, stumbling into one of his comrades and taking a defensive stance with him back-to-back. With the two bodies lined up, their armor providing a backstop and the area behind them clear, Galen fired. A hint of satisfaction crossed his face as they both dropped together.

As the Private searched for another shot, something slammed into the side of the carriage. Immediately he dashed to the edge of the roof, aiming over the side to see a Sun-kissed fighting with a knight for control over a longsword. The human was using his weight to bear down on the Drow and slowly pushing the edge of her blade closer to her neck.

"Hey, tin cap!" Galen snapped, the knight looking up into the muzzle of the Private's M14.

His helm offered no protection as the thirty caliber round tore through the steel and hollowed out his skull. Galen was only turning to check area around the door of the carriage when he felt someone above him. There was only a split second between when he looked up and stepped back, to when something crashed between his feet, tearing a hole in the roof of the carriage and pulling the Private down with it.