A Chronicle of Ice, Luck and Honour
Chapter 6: A Duel of Shadows
"Aasimar, here is your choice"
Klauth watched the man strut out of the tower and shout his absurd challenge. Curling his mouth into a razor sharp snarl, a thunderous laugh erupted from the dragon. The tower shuddered, sending a small shower of mortar to the sand below. With a sudden step forward, Klauth planted his right claw onto Zalaznir, folding the upraised longsword onto itself as the man desperately struck upwards, screaming this and that to Lathander.
Klauth grinned a theatre of fangs. Shrill screams vibrated up through the dragon's body as the man was pressed further into the sand. A dull, wet snap buckled the right leg of Zalaznir into two as Klauth slowly shifted his incredible weight forwards. Zalaznir continued hollering in pain as Klauth saw a second man advance from the shadows of the tower doorway. This one had blonde hair and wore a broken chainmail shirt spattered with blood.
Somehow, Torious had ridden through the waves of fear that gripped his companions. In a steady voice, the Aasimar began to speak, “Dragon. Free that man, he is no threat to you.”
Klauth seemed to consider this, his baleful glare now fully on the man before him. The dragon responded with a voice of molten metal, each syllable casting forth a sickening heat, "
No."
Torious wavered, then placed a foot backwards to steady himself from falling.
“Dragon. I am aasimar, descendant of Tyr the even handed and slayer of…”
"
I know what you are. But it seems you are trying to prove that to yourself, despite all you know," hissed Klauth with a wicked smile.
With a heavy sucking sound, Klauth pulled his foot out of the fresh crater to reveal Zalaznir underneath. The paladin screamed as he leant forward to hold his crushed leg. Klauth lazily balanced a single talon over the man, holding him down once again.
Zalaznir jerked his head towards Torious and screamed at the aasimar, “Help me. Oh Lathander please, no. Help me!”
"
Aasimar, here is your choice." Klauth said evenly, coming to a decision. "
Either this man dies, or you die. It is up to you, you can be his saviour or your own."
Inside the tower, Dariel’s wings beat once, spinning himself about on the floor. Thalin, shaking violently, and with great effort, dropped his body sideways so that he could no longer see the great red wyrm out of the tower door. Immediately, the blinding white fear shuddered out of him and was replaced by a twisting need to escape.
Picking Dariel up, as he began to flutter to consciousness, Thalin pushed the fear stricken Milo sideways with the butt of
Erifeci. Milo shivered as he fell, and still unable to speak through fear, crouched into the shadowed corner of the tower, stroking Isplit like a child’s doll.
Thalin quickly began to think rationally again, mentally cursing himself for being so weak in the moments when his strength was needed most. Looking around the tower, and being anxious not to stray into view of the dragon, he kept to the shadowed edge. Well aware of a dragon's hunting abilities, particularly hearing and sight, Thalin motioned towards Milo to stay where he was.
Looking for something to escape by, Thalin carefully lifted a crate, making sure not to make a sound and placed it to one side. Looking back at the empty space, Thalin shuddered with relief as the wooden slats of a trapdoor were revealed. Now wishing that he had learnt his spell of soundlessness, Thalin lifted the iron handle of the trapdoor with quivering hands and began to lift.
- - - - - - - - - -
Lyle sprinted back down the tunnel, his boots thudding on the stone flagstones as he ran. Looking back, the sword spider leapt from the web and landed with only a patter of taps as its legs touched the ground.
Leaping forwards, Lyle dived into the dwarven sleeping quarters. Spinning quickly, he threw his weight into the door to close it. With only inches to go, a chitinous sabre slid into the crack, holding the door open. The soft scraping of the spider's legs searching for a grip on the stone made Lyle quickly alter his course of action.
Rolling onto his side, and roaring in pain as he used his stump to push against the door, Lyle withdrew his shortsword and drove it into the flailing spider leg. The leg disappeared, scraping back through the gap in the door which was quickly slammed and locked by Lyle, who sat back against the door and began to think if his revenge was really worth all this.