Knight in the Mountain - Part 3 - Triumph Return

“So you are leaving now?” asks Sorbar Tris, but despite phrasing his words as a question, they come out more as a statement.

“Yes,” replies Nirea, as she hefts her bag onto her shoulder, “Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?”

“Yes,” says Sorbar with a weary, humourless smile. This is far from the first time they had this conversation or a variant of it.

It has been three and a half years since Nirea, Giarth and Korica began their training under him. And in that time, he has grown to see them as own children just as he has with Sarkira.

Actively working towards a desirable and achievable goal has been good for Sorbar. He has had the motivation to do his best for the first time in at least a century and that has shown through his actions. Not only has he trained the kids, but he expanded his home into a full-fledged training camp.

Furthermore, he has even crafted items, armour and weapons for the kids so that they will have a chance against the Antera. Combined with the skills and knowledge that Sorbar have given them, they should have a decent chance. The very least they won’t get utterly crushed when they attract the attention of one of the Antera.

Sorbar would like to help them gain a fighting chance against their foes, but the Antera are gods and not even he has the raw power to match a member of the Antera in a straight up fight. No one does. Not in this day and age.

No, that isn’t true. Anthea could match anyone of the Antera. And outclass all, but the strongest of them.

“Goodbye,” says Sarkira as she gives Sorbar a hug and he embraces his daughter in return.

Despite having spent for as long as she can remember up here, the Jorman girl is going to aid her Lari siblings. Leaving Sorbar all alone in these mountains once again.

“Good luck darling,” replies Sorbar as he kisses her on the forehead, “Good luck all of you.”

“Yeah, we’ll need it,” Korica agrees solemnly.

The last of the goodbyes don’t take long, a few hugs and words exchanged before Sorbar’s four children set off on their journey.

Sorbar’s face is passive as he watches them head down the path. Perhaps he should have given them Ang’Jun. They will need every advantage they can get, but Sorbar couldn’t bring himself to part with his Linx Sword. It is his most prized procession.

Time for one last set of words for his kids.

“My son and daughters!” says Sorbar, amplifying his voice so echoes throughout the mountain and the four kids look back up at him, “No matter what threats you face or what foes may be hunting you, you can always find sanctuary here! Even if the entire might of the Antera is bearing down on you!”

***

Two years. Two entire years. Two entire years ago on his day, his children set out on their quest to bring the Antera to justice.

And every single day, Sorbar Tris has worried about them. None are dead or worse as he has his systems set up to alert him if any such things had occurred.

But the old man is restless. With his children out there, Sorbar just can’t relax and enjoy his life of solitude as he used to. His thoughts keep straying to what trouble might be befalling his children.

He spent three centuries being the hero and it got him nowhere. But for all the trouble he got into and all the hell he had to go through, Sorbar has never regretted those days. Even he complains and grumbles about them all the time, not once has he truly lamented the time he spend as a hero.

Perhaps the time for him to be the hero has come once again. The kids are out there fighting the Antera and they could use his help. He did kill Oorkbine back when he wasn’t even a proper adult yet. And Sorbar has not once feared dying fighting the good fight and that has yet to change.

With a weary sigh, Sorbar picks up Ang’Jun and decides to get his old set of power armour of storage.

As he thinks back to his glory days, Sorbar lets a genuine smile form on his face for the first time in two years.

***

Clad in a black skin-tight suit and green plate power armour, Sorbar keeps his hand on the hilt of Ang’Jun, ready to draw his weapon at moment’s notice as he waits crouched on the ridge overlooking the besieged city.

The citadel-city of Eth Pandor lies within his sight. With an impressive citadel dating back to long before the Antera at its centre, there are several layers of defensive walls and strategically placed bastions throughout the city, giving Eth Pandor a well-deserved reputation as an impenetrable fortress.

Normally a glorious sight to behold, the magnificent city is under siege by the forces of Vrondrunt and Otholfrox surrounding Eth Pandor.

The main uprising is holed up within the walls of Eth Pandor and while his children are not the leaders of the uprising, they do command its warriors and soldiers.

And a fine job they have done so. They have won almost every battle that they have fought and have easily outmanoeuvred their Anteran opponents when it comes to strategy.

Calio was always about theory anyway, muses Sorbar, they always relied upon me to fight our battles when it came down to it.

Disciples of Beast and Undeath harry the outer wall with their Apostles hanging back, ready for a breach in the defences before committing their considerable might.

A breach that is about to be created by the raw, unadulterated power of Vrondrunt as the god prepares to smash a hole in the fortifications of the defenders.

Sorbar’s children have done well, but ultimately, the might of the Antera was too much for mortals like them to overcome and the Fall of Eth Pandor could easily end up being the last stand for the uprising and the death of his children.

Fortunate shines on Sorbar for he picked a very good time to return to the fray.

“System Go,” whispers Sorbar as Vrondrunt gathers up his power.

Accessing his Cyber-World, Sorbar mentally places several shield generators in the shadow dimension of his world, positioning them so they will form a barrier between Vrondrunt and Eth Pandor.

“Power On, Device Activate,” continues Sorbar, powering and activating the shield generators as Vrondrunt fires.

As the misty bolt of black magic soars through the air towards Eth Pandor, a circular shield of white-green energy forms in its path at the last moment possible. The black magic bolt slams into the green energy shield and there is a near blinding flash of light as the bolt struggles against the shield.

But despite Vrondrunt’s might, the shield prevails for Deltaen technology does not fail easily. Other than two shield generators getting close to overheating, Sorbar and the defenders of Eth Pandor is no worse for wear after Vrondrunt’s attack then they were before it.

“Greetings!” says Sorbar in a calm, collected and very confident voice as he stands up to his full height, amplifying his voice so that everyone will hear him, “Sveif! Tiof! I have a bone to pick with you two!”

There is total silence as attacker and defender alike turn and stare at Sorbar. In particular, Otholfrox and Vrondrunt are dumbfounded as they gawk at the old hero.

Vrondrunt and Otholfrox look the same as Sorbar remembers them. Otholfrox is a large, hairy wolf-man with bulging muscles, blood-red eyes and no clothes. Fortunately, thick black fur covers his entire body so nothing too disgusting is visible.

Vrondrunt is a tall, thin man with black robes. His skin is a deathly pale whilst his eyes are pure black. His black hair is slick and combed back so it stick close to his scalp.

The two Anteran gods are a far sight from the two blonde, handsome wizards that Sorbar once worked with.

“Sorbar Tris,” growls Otholfrox, recovering before his brother does.

“In the flesh,” replies Sorbar as inclines his head in acknowledgement.

“What are you doing here?” demands Otholfrox.

“Fighting the good fight,” answers Sorbar, “Saving people, slaying evil and killing the Antera. Basically the same stuff I used to do back in the day”

“You think you stand against us?” hisses Vrondrunt as he recovers from his shock, “That you dare to have a chance of defeating us?”

“Oorkbine expressed the same opinions as you do now,” replies Sorbar as he draws Ang’Jun from its sheath.

“But he was only one,” rumbles another voice, one that Sorbar recognises as belong to Ulsorgrok, the King of the Antera, “And you face the entire might of the Antera.”

Sorbar looks around as several other members of the Antera come into existence around Vrondrunt and Otholfrox, no doubt drawn by his unexpected and completely unforeseen presence.

There is Ulsorgrok, God of the World and King of the Antera, of course, but there is also Anketa, Goddess of War, Elgos, God of Crime, Yorranx, Goddess of Slavery and Ryocton, God of Deceit.

“Not the entire might,” replies Sorbar unperturbed by the forces amassed against to him, “Exula and Izlox aren’t here. Neither is Anthea, which is fortunate for you.”

“You are not taking this seriously,” rumbles Ulsorgrok.

“Not particularly,” agrees Sorbar nonchalantly, “Oh, I will once the fighting starts, but not while we are still talking.”

“You seem to have his disillusion that that will be a fight instead of you just getting crushed,” snarls Anketa.

“I am a Knight of Deltae,” declares Sorbar as he prepares his Cyber-World for war.

“Then you shall die!” roars Anketa as she charges at him, summoning a weapon in each hand.

“Perhaps I shall,” agrees Sorbar as he readies Ang’Jun, “Just I shall die as a hero. System Go!”

Knight in the Mountain - Part 2 - Squires

Sorbar Tris turns the page of his book. It is one that he has read before, but that doesn’t stop him from enjoying it. If that was the case, then his entire collection of books would be useless for it has been a very long time since Sorbar has been able to acquire any new books.

“Done it!” yells Sarkira from out of sight, catching her father’s attention.

It has been almost five years now since he found Sarkira on that fateful evening. And not once has he regretted having her as his daughter. The Jorman girl has adapted quickly, easily settling into the role of being Sorbar’s daughter.

In that regard, Sorbar muses, not being able to remember anything of her previous life is quite possibly a blessing even if it is tragic otherwise.

At the very least, Sarkira has no desires about knowing what lies beyond the mountain. Their small home and the surrounding mountain top is the whole world as far as Sarkira is concerned.

“Done what?” inquires Sorbar as he puts his book down.

“Got the Fab working Daddy,” says Sarkira in a gleeful voice.

One thing that Sarkira has developed over the last few years is a fondness for the old technology that Sorbar has lying around. And the girl has been nurturing her talent when it comes to building new devices and repairing the old broken down machines.

Her current goal is to get an old Sarg’Coa-Nin Fabricator unit back to working condition. The device in question is about the size of a small chest and allows the user to store and rearrange particles to create new items from old ones.

And from the sound of it, Sarkira seems to have achieved her objective.

“Coming darling,” says Sorbar as he gets up from his chair.

Life is good.

***

“Daddy,” says Sarkira as she begins to put on her boots, “I am going to take a stroll for a bit. I need the fresh air.”

“Just don’t stray too far,” replies Sorbar, sparing her only a brief glance.

“Of course I won’t,” replies Sarkira with a roll of her eyes, “I never do. You know that Daddy.”

“I just worry darling,” says Sorbar, “Paranoia-”

“Born of experience,” mutters Sarkira, “Yes, I know. Don’t worry about it Daddy.”

Sorbar grunts his acknowledgement. Despite his worries and the dangers of their location, he isn’t too worried about Sarkira getting hurt or into trouble. There are no threats are up here and Sarkira is more than handling herself in a fight.

Besides, Sarkira is a Jorman, the hardiest of this world’s humans. Naturally resistant to the cold, Jormans are tough, strong and resilient. Furthermore, they are harder to harm than your average human and recover quicker. Unless it is some kind of Karc or Monster, Sarkira will be totally fine and even then, the girl will be able to hold her own until Sorbar shows up.

As Sarkira closes the door behind her, Sorbar gets up and decides to fetch Ang’Jun. He could do with some practice.

***

“Daddy!” yells Sarkira as she approaches the house, shouting so Sorbar will be able to hear her, “I found people!”

And with those words, Sorbar’s calm and relaxed sparring practice comes to a sudden halt.

People. No one has come close to his home since he found Sarkira. Furthermore, they managed to get this far without being detected by him. Even if they did travel part of the way with his daughter, they should have been detected even when with her.

The fact they didn’t is extremely troubling, especially since a quite check via his HUD confirms that all of his sensors and alarms are working properly.

“Coming!” Sorbar yells back, not bothering to sheathe Ang’Jun. He will be taking the weapon with him and if he does need it, he might as well already have in hand and ready to use.

Sorbar darts up the stairs, exiting the basement as he dashes for the door.

“Can I bring them inside?” asks Sarkira, sounding excited.

“Not until I met them first!” shouts Sorbar as he swings the door open.

He scans the area, but Sarkira and her new found companions are easy to spot. His daughter is making no effort to hide whilst three elves are huddled behind her.

He is fairly certain of what he is seeing, another brief scan confirms his thoughts. The elves are Lari, also known as Sea Elves, and are roughly the same age as Sarkira, only they are a little older. Like all elves, Lari have a taller average height with slimmer bodies and long, pointy ears. 

Furthermore, Lari are inherently stronger at magic with only the Mari exceeding their natural talent. And unlike the Mari, Lari have an innately faster and more agile than most with a strong stamina.

Not that natural talent matters for much against someone who has honed their skills, both in battle and out of it, for centuries.

There are two girls and one boy, all of them wearing ragged winter wear. The boy is gangly with short black hair and hard blue eyes.

The first of the girls is a slender young woman with a mane of green-brown hair and eyes. Whereas the hair leans toward being brown, the eyes are mostly green. Whilst she is slender, her body has the athletic body of a huntress.

The second girl has clearly seen some action for there is a scar across her left cheek. From experience, Sorbar would say it is a grazing hit from a stabbing wound from a bladed weapon. Most likely a short sword, but possibly a longsword or some kind of a polearm.

As for the rest of her physical appearance, she is a redhead, but the mixture of red and orange makes her head look all fiery and flame-like. Her green eyes are those of a soldier. Not the dull, dead stare of a traumatised veteran nor the eager look of an untested recruit, but the determined gaze of someone who has seen the horrors of war, but is resolute in their willingness to continue their duty.

“Hello Sarkira,” says Sorbar slowly, “Who are your new companions and what are they doing here?”

“Oh, this is Nirea, Girath and Korica,” replies Sarkira, indicating to the first girl, the boy and second girl in turn, “They came up here to find you and convince you to help them. But I told them you were retired and wouldn’t leave and help them fight the Antera!...What are the Antera!”

“Humans who sought Godhood and were successful by sacrificing their humanity,” answers Sorbar solemnly, “Now they rule this world.”

And I once called them friends and was part of their group, Sorbar remembers soberly, but then they just had to cross lines that I couldn’t.

“We need your help,” says the huntress elf, Nirea as she darts forward to stand before Sorbar, “They slaughtered our entire town! Anketa, Cursed be her Name, came with her Disciples and the Acolytes of War and killed everyone, but us. I had to watch as they broke Uncle Gereth’s knees and used him for target practice for their new recruits! I was helpless! There was nothing that we could do! Nothing I could do! Nothing! We only got away because we playing in the woods and Jepris just, he just...”

As words fail her, Nirea drops to her knees and down in trees. Sorbar sighs, sheathing Ang’Jun as he kneels down and embraces the crying girl in a firm hug.

“What do you wish of me?” asks Sorbar, “No, how did you find me first?”

“W-we knew that the mountains were off-limits,” answers the boy, Giarth, “The Gods killed everyone who tried to enter them and they seemed scared of what in them so we figured...”

“We had nothing left to lose and everything to gain,” says Korica, her voice hard as she meets Sorbar’s gaze, “So we hid ourselves from their gaze and made the climb.”

And that explains how they were able to avoid detection. If they were able to hide from the Antera, it is likely that they were also hidden from his systems.

“And what now?” asks Sorbar.

“W-we were h-hoping to find a wa-way to fight the Antera,” answers Nirea as she does her best to stop crying.

“But your daughter says you won’t fight the Antera,” says Korica accusingly and Sorbar sighs.

“Back when the Antera first ascended to Godhood, I spent the better part of three centuries fighting them,” explains Sorbar, “And look where that got everybody. The majority of the Antera are still in power and rule the world. Meanwhile everyone I have ever known or loved is dead while I am an old man hiding out in a mountain.”

“Oh,” mutters Korica as the girl looks away guiltily.

“So what do you want?” Sorbar asks.

“I don’t know,” says Giarth while Korica shakes her head and Nirea breaks into tears again, “We just...I don’t know.”

“What is your goal?” Sorbar demands, getting to his feet as the old man stands up tall and begin to use his strong, confident and loud commanding voice and use a bit of magic to subtly force an honest answer of these kids, “What do you want out of life?”

“To help people.”

“To end the Antera.”

“To avenge my family.”

Those answers come from Giarth, Korica and Nirea respectively.

“So you wish to bring the Antera to justice?” Sorbar says and he receive three acknowledgements, “Then I shall train you as best I can. Sarkira?”

“Yes Daddy?” replies Sorbar’s daughter as she looks up at him, her eyes full of fiery determination that he shares.

“Please help our new friends settle in. I will bring preparations and the new constructions.”

Knight in the Mountain - Part 1 - On the Steps

Sorbar Tris scowls as he hears as his alarms go off. The old man was just getting ready to have his dinner. Not much, just a plate full of boiled local plants and a cooked half of a local bird.

Hopefully it is just a false alarm. The machinery behind his alarm system is old and it wouldn’t be the first time that an alarm has gone off for no reason.

Or perhaps some of the locals are exploring the area near his home again. Sure the Antera declared the mountain he lives on to be forbidden, punishable by death, but that hasn’t stopped people before. But his initial defences have always scared them off before.

Placing his plate of food on the table, he calls up his HUD and check which alarms are going off. Initially it was the perimeter alarms, but some of the inner alarms are going off now as well.

With a weary sigh, Sorbar decides to investigate it. The old habits he developed over the three centuries he spent as a wandering hero die hard. One of those habits was always setting up some kind of early warning system and another is to never dismiss something that might be trouble.

“By the Knights, I wish Anthea was still here,” grumbles Sorbar Tris as he grabs his old duster as he strides towards the front door of his house.

A half-Deltaen, Sorbar Tris is an impressive specimen with tall, muscular, athletic body and a criss-cross of various scars all over his body. His formerly blonde hair has become a mixture of white and grey and is cut close to his head. While not wrinkly, his skin and facial features have become worn and rugged with decades of continuously throwing himself into constant battle. Meanwhile a short beard and moustache cover the lower half of his face whilst his sharp, alert blue eyes are the mainstay of his upper face.

His clothes are simple, a worn brown duster, a pair of practical boots, black legwear and a grey shirt. And of course his prized Linx Sword, Ang’Jun, is sheathed at his hip.

Sorbar heads down the steep, wilderness path leading up to his small house near the top of the mountain. He could pave it and make it easier to travel, but the old hero wishes to discourage people from seeking him out in any way he can.

As he approaches the detected intruder, Sorbar brings up the relevant information on his HUD. Small humanoid, most likely a child, a Garc or some sort of creature. The Antera do like their monsters.

If he is honest with himself, Sorbar is hoping that it is a monster of some kind. He can deal with those with simple ease. A Garc would be more interest to handle and a child would just be downright troublesome. Not that he has a problem with children, the implications of a child being up here on their own...

Despite walking into what is mostly like some kind of trouble, Sorbar enjoys the stroll through the cold air of the mountain, the hard snow of winter crunching under his boots.

As the figure comes into view on a path below him, Sorbar bites back a curse. The intruder is a child, the girl staggering through the snow while her feet sway dangerously close to the edge.

A child should not be up here. There is no good reason for why a child would be anyway close to here and yet there is one on the path below him.

But despite how wrong it is for a child be here, decision on what to do is now extremely simple and easy for Sorbar as there is only one choice available to him.

He jumps down, easily weathering the force of landing as he touches down directly in front of the child. Looking into the dull grey eyes, Sorbar frowns at the dead look to them.

The girl is clearly no more than ten years old at the most and is on her last legs. Her body is pale and dying, she is malnourished and exhausted, her snow-white hair is dirty and matted while her expression is devoid of life. In his lifetime, Sorbar has seen countless people in this state and it hurts his heart every time, especially when it is a child.

Reaching down to the child, Sorbar scoops her up into his arms, the little girl unresisting.

“Do not worry child,” Sorbar whispers into her ear, “You are safe now. None shall harm you whilst you remain under my protection.”

Making sure that he is holding the child firmly, Sorbar breaks into a run, eager to take the child into the warmth and comfort of his home.

“H-h-hungry,” mutters the child quietly and Sorbar pulls her closer to him.

“Kid, I got a warm plate full of hot food waiting for you,” Sorbar reassures the child as he thinks about his dinner waiting for him back home. Well, waiting for the kid now. She needs it more than he does and it wouldn’t be the first time that Sorbar has had to go without a meal.

“Do you have a name child?” asks Sorbar as his home comes into view.

“I don’t remember,” replies the child, her dull, dead voice nothing more than a whisper, “I don’t remember anything.”

Jordic. That is what the child is speaking. That means she is most likely a member of the Joric people, a Jorman. Coupled with her survival in this weather and environment, Sorbar is certain that she is as Jormans are innately adapt at weathering the harsh colds of this world.

“Then you shall be Sarkira Tris,” Sorbar tells the child, “And I will raise you as my daughter.”