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<blockquote data-quote="skullsmurfer" data-source="post: 2382318" data-attributes="member: 17151"><p><strong>Dog Soldiers, Chapter 16</strong></p><p></p><p>Private Niabelis and Inquisitor Pallas shared the blessings of the Silver Flame with the others. The Dog Soldiers introduced themselves as Bashful and Point. Sweet Lips, she already knows. Private Niabelis prayed for deliverance. It is likely that they are all convicted criminals.</p><p> </p><p> “They are around the corner! There's a monster with them.” Sweet Lips whispered.</p><p></p><p> “I don't care what they've got. They will die!” Private Niabelis hissed.</p><p></p><p> Sweet Lips charged. Private Niabelis ran close behind with her mace ready. A horribly mutated ape fell upon the young man. Behind it, a thing that could only be a dolgaunt stood next to another twisted thing that might have once been human. A shimmering door flashed open behind the monster. The dolgaunt gestured at her and then disappeared. Private Niabelis felt a wave of darkness and terror flood through the tunnel.</p><p></p><p> “Black Magic!” Inquisitor Pallas announced.</p><p></p><p> “I will feast on your tender flesh!” the enemy growled as the waves of foul magic caressed his body. </p><p></p><p> Bashful and Point bent under the magic, but they did not break. Inquisitor Pallas called upon the flame to bolster all of them against the corruption. Private Niabelis shook off the darkness and lifted her mace. The dolgaunt's companion peeled a bit of flesh from a nearby zombie and stuffed it in it's mouth. The zombie mewled and cried out like a child. The ghoulish mage made a rude gesture and invited her to die at his feet.</p><p></p><p> Sweet Lips kicked the ape away from his throat. His blood is flowing freely from too many wounds. The rage is gnawing at the back of his mind. The young man gritted his teeth and held on to his sanity. He batted the ape away with his war cleaver and started to look for a way to kill it. Private Niabelis is fighting the witch. The Inquisitor and the others are probably busy keeping the dolgrim back while Niabelis kills their leader. Sweet Lips dodged a claw swipe and wounded the monster. The enraged beast only came on stronger and faster. Sweet Lips fought back just as hard. The ape drew back and took a flying leap at him. The young man was overwhelmed.</p><p></p><p> “Sweet Lips is down!” yelled Bashful.</p><p></p><p> “Watch the line!” snapped Inquisitor Pallas.</p><p></p><p> The ape dug into his arms and thighs with it's claws. Sweet Lips had no leverage to wield his cleaver, but he managed to keep it from biting his face off. Pain flooded through his senses. The young man started to foam at the mouth. Sweet Lips head-butted the beast. He let go of the cleaver and struggled away from its grasp, fighting like a demon. The ape recovered quickly. It charged the young man again. Sweet Lips grabbed hold of his cleaver and met the charge screaming. The ape died. The berserker continued to hack at the broken corpse until something else drew his attention. Sweet Lips turned and charged the monster fighting Private Niabelis. </p><p></p><p> Point pulled Niabelis out of the way as the raging Dog Soldier charged past. The ghoulish mage sent him back with but a gesture. The berserker rolled to his feet and charged again and again. It's magic was foul, leaving cold and darkness in its wake. The rage filled him, none of the magic seemed to stick. He wounded the monster with each charge, but the creature just would not give. Private Niabelis used the distractions to smash into the enemy as well. She called to Flame for strength, but the enemy laughed at her efforts. It's resistance is beyond anything she has ever experienced. She used the Flame's gifts to keep the berserker alive until she could figure out a way to hurt the thing. It's fell gaze made her feel dirty. </p><p></p><p> Inquisitor Pallas poured his last blessing into Bashful. The dolgrim are pushing hard. His mace arm is tired and slick with blood. The battle rages behind him, though he can't tell if they are winning. He is convinced that they are over their heads. </p><p></p><p> Private Niabelis felt weighed down with fatigue. The evil creature before her is somehow responsible. She reached for the small spark of Silver Flame that she carries within her breast and struck out with a beam of searing light. The enemy screamed out of rage and pain. It dropped to the floor trying to put the flames out. Sweet Lips drove his cleaver through it's chest. The witch continued to fight, striking out with its clawed hands and sharpened teeth. If Sweet Lips noticed, he didn't show it. The berserker ripped the cleaver out and tore into the monster with renewed vigor. The thing screeched a spell and sent Sweet Lips flying backwards wrapped in tendrils of cloying shadows. It should be dead twice over. Every time it gets a chance the thing pulls another strip of flesh from it's zombie companion. Her eyes grew wide, Private Niabelis did not hesitate. The Sister Inquisitor kicked the zombie away from the monster's reach. She then dove in and crushed the enemy's skull with her mace, calling on the Flame to smite the unholy terror. It mocked her even as it died, calling out obscenities that would haunt her dreams for months to come. </p><p> </p><p> Sweet Lips rose to his feet and eyed the dolgrim surrounding him. His eyes are bulging out of his skull. His face is flushed red and his teeth are clenched so tight that his jaw threatens to crack. The young man's skin is covered in angry red boils from the witch's latest assault. He just stood there wavering slightly. Point waved the Inquisitor back away from the young berserker. The Sergeant had told the men what to expect from Sweet Lips. Bashful sat very still. The young man had bowled him over just a moment ago. None of them want to set him off. An idiot dolgrim jabbed Sweet Lips with a spear. The other Dog Soldiers breathed a sigh of relief.</p><p></p><p> The berserker growled and swung his cleaver like a scythe. Point and Bashful fell in behind the young man, killing with only a bit more sense. They will protect his back while he fights for them. The gawky young man is gone, his features are unrecognizable. There is no stopping Sweet Lips now, the two Dog Soldiers only hope that the Sergeant knows how to calm the boy. </p><p></p><p> “We need to bless the corpse.” Private Niabelis told the Inquisitor. “This filthy thing dared to laugh at the Flame. It resisted most of my prayers.”</p><p></p><p> “Verily, that was not a natural creature,” Pallas agreed. “A ghoul mage, I think, it should be burned. What about that one?”</p><p></p><p> The zombie stood against the wall, begging to be killed. It was once a young woman, approaching maidenhood. The voice was that of a child very much younger. When Inquisitor Pallas demanded it's name, it just started crying. Private Niabelis felt her skin crawl at the sound. Pallas raised his mace and held unclean thing in place with the power of the Flame. Niabelis lifted up her holy symbol called for judgment. The zombie screamed and fell to ash. A dark shadow, like a smudge upon reality hung in place for a moment, then it too was destroyed. </p><p></p><p> “It was evil.” Private Niabelis frowned. “Let us move on. You saw the dolgaunt, did you not?” </p><p></p><p> “The Bishop will know what to do. We must finish this mess first.” If Inquisitor Pallas saw Niabelis flinch, he did not care. “Chances are, you will not be free to pursue it.” </p><p></p><p> Private Niabelis sprinkled some holy water upon the corpse of the ghoul mage. It sizzled as it touched the unnatural flesh. Her mace crushed what was left of it's head, she then circled the corpse and destroyed its hands. She took a step back and held the holy symbol of the Flame before it.</p><p></p><p> “Be thou Blessed!” She intoned, “Be thou Cleansed!”</p><p></p><p> The corpse twitched and then started to writhe obscenely. Niabelis heard the thing laugh as if from a great distance. She girded her heart against it, her mind grew hard and cold with the hot burning will of the flame strengthening her resolve. The ghoul mage resisted, but not for long. Private Niabelis felt something give within her breast, a new strength poured through her body. She poured the last of the holy water upon the ghoul mage. The water set it ablaze. Niabelis stood there holding the holy symbol of the Silver Flame until it was over. </p><p></p><p> Sergeant Ironson barked out new orders when the dolgrim started to panic. The Dog Soldiers started tossing tangle-foot bags. A moment later, several bottles of alchemist's fire and acid followed. The Sergeant made sure none to the filthy dolgrim could get away. Sweet Lips and the others capped the other end of the trap. It was bloody, the dolgrim fought like trapped rats. The Dog Soldiers fought harder.</p><p></p><p> At the very end, Private Niabelis held Sweet Lips down while the others held on to his arms and legs. By rights he should be dead. The battle is done and yet he continues to hack at the fallen enemy. She channeled the Flame's blessing into him and tore out the bolts from his chest. The wounds from the ghoul mage are festering, he is shaking with fever. Two more inquisitors had to spend their blessings to save him. The young man's eyes rolled back into his head and he suddenly burst free. He blinked at them with no recognition in his eyes.</p><p></p><p> “Down boy,” Sgt. Ironson commanded. The necklace about Sweet Lips' neck sent a burst of electricity through the boy's body. The berserker collapsed, this time for good.</p><p></p><p> “He will need to stay in bed for a week, at least.” Niabelis said as one of the Dog Soldiers helped her up. “Has he been checked for taint?”</p><p></p><p> “No, he is a berserker, not a lycanthrope.” Sgt. Ironson replied tersely.</p><p></p><p> “The Flame will tell.” Inquisitor Pallas said.</p><p></p><p> “He is a follower of the Host, touched by Dol Dorn. His strength is a blessing. Keep yer bloody Flame to yerself, Inquisitor.” Sgt. Ironson barked.</p><p></p><p> “The boy is obviously cursed. Can you not see that?” Niabelis demanded.</p><p></p><p> “He bears a heavy burden, that is true, but he is a man. No gift from the Gods comes without a price. Test him if you will, but the Chaplain must be present. He is a Dog Soldier.” Sgt. Ironson ended the conversation by giving them both the evil eye.</p><p> </p><p></p><p> The Sergeant counted the wounded. Six men are too wounded to fight, but no one is dead just yet. The rest bear assorted wounds and scratches, nothing to keep them from taking a few heads in the next fight. The Inquisitors kept his lads alive, that much is undeniable. The Sister is going to be trouble later. For now, she is bound to her commission. The law is very clearly on his side, let the City Council deal with the politics. Potions and divine healing will allow them to drag their feet to the objective. However, he doesn't know if the men will be able to fight effectively if he forces a march. Sgt. Ironson hissed a curse and kicked at a dolgrim corpse.</p><p></p><p> “Chaplain Odus, contact Captain Rolland. Tell him we ran into trouble, and that we will be delayed. Give him our current position and an estimate of 45 minutes to the pump rooms.”</p><p></p><p> Odus pulled short rod from his belt. It is an advanced communication device from the war; the kind of thing generals get to play with. It is expensive, too expensive for even the City Watch. The Inquisitors looked at one another and then to the Sergeant. He shrugged his shoulders at them. When the Nobles issue equipment, Sergeants don't ask questions.</p><p></p><p> “Sir...the Captain said he is five minutes away!” Chaplain Odus called out in shock. “He's got a watch mage flying ahead to meet us! They were scrying us, sir!”</p><p></p><p> “Oh, this is precious!” the Sergeant snapped. “Private Niabelis, front and center! Chaplain Odus, Inquisitor Pallas, you too. You, start counting dolgrim heads! Is Sweet Lips awake yet!?”</p><p></p><p> The Watch Mage swooped in with a wand in each hand. He is wearing an auxiliary badge and a University tabard. The Captain must have pull, accomplished wizards do not just drop classes to answer calls to the sewers. The mage started asking questions, the Sergeant answered as best he could. The Captain marched in minutes later with his reserves. </p><p></p><p> “Well, Sergeant, I see that you are aiming for a promotion. We haven't killed this many dolgrim in ten years!” The Captain spoke cheerfully. “Is there anything left for me?”</p><p></p><p> The Dog Soldiers lined up. The Chaplain had to physically pull some of the wounded out of the ranks. The Captain authorized healing for the more stubborn soldiers and then ordered a fast march. The Watch Mage tried to scry the pump rooms before they left. He was blocked. The Captain thinks that means a good fight is brewing, the Sergeant just shook his head. The Watch Mage actually said something about looking forward to wielding his power without restriction. </p><p></p><p> Private Niabelis is keeping her mouth shut and her head down. This should be her day. She did everything in her power to get to this place and now it is all crumbling to dust. Maybe she should have let the Sergeant take her head. Inquisitor Pallas should have backed her up. They are both Inquisitors, yet he looked at her as if she were a stranger. The Bishop is her only hope now. Private Niabelis took a calming breath and tried not to grit her teeth. She will endure, her day will come.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="skullsmurfer, post: 2382318, member: 17151"] [b]Dog Soldiers, Chapter 16[/b] Private Niabelis and Inquisitor Pallas shared the blessings of the Silver Flame with the others. The Dog Soldiers introduced themselves as Bashful and Point. Sweet Lips, she already knows. Private Niabelis prayed for deliverance. It is likely that they are all convicted criminals. “They are around the corner! There's a monster with them.” Sweet Lips whispered. “I don't care what they've got. They will die!” Private Niabelis hissed. Sweet Lips charged. Private Niabelis ran close behind with her mace ready. A horribly mutated ape fell upon the young man. Behind it, a thing that could only be a dolgaunt stood next to another twisted thing that might have once been human. A shimmering door flashed open behind the monster. The dolgaunt gestured at her and then disappeared. Private Niabelis felt a wave of darkness and terror flood through the tunnel. “Black Magic!” Inquisitor Pallas announced. “I will feast on your tender flesh!” the enemy growled as the waves of foul magic caressed his body. Bashful and Point bent under the magic, but they did not break. Inquisitor Pallas called upon the flame to bolster all of them against the corruption. Private Niabelis shook off the darkness and lifted her mace. The dolgaunt's companion peeled a bit of flesh from a nearby zombie and stuffed it in it's mouth. The zombie mewled and cried out like a child. The ghoulish mage made a rude gesture and invited her to die at his feet. Sweet Lips kicked the ape away from his throat. His blood is flowing freely from too many wounds. The rage is gnawing at the back of his mind. The young man gritted his teeth and held on to his sanity. He batted the ape away with his war cleaver and started to look for a way to kill it. Private Niabelis is fighting the witch. The Inquisitor and the others are probably busy keeping the dolgrim back while Niabelis kills their leader. Sweet Lips dodged a claw swipe and wounded the monster. The enraged beast only came on stronger and faster. Sweet Lips fought back just as hard. The ape drew back and took a flying leap at him. The young man was overwhelmed. “Sweet Lips is down!” yelled Bashful. “Watch the line!” snapped Inquisitor Pallas. The ape dug into his arms and thighs with it's claws. Sweet Lips had no leverage to wield his cleaver, but he managed to keep it from biting his face off. Pain flooded through his senses. The young man started to foam at the mouth. Sweet Lips head-butted the beast. He let go of the cleaver and struggled away from its grasp, fighting like a demon. The ape recovered quickly. It charged the young man again. Sweet Lips grabbed hold of his cleaver and met the charge screaming. The ape died. The berserker continued to hack at the broken corpse until something else drew his attention. Sweet Lips turned and charged the monster fighting Private Niabelis. Point pulled Niabelis out of the way as the raging Dog Soldier charged past. The ghoulish mage sent him back with but a gesture. The berserker rolled to his feet and charged again and again. It's magic was foul, leaving cold and darkness in its wake. The rage filled him, none of the magic seemed to stick. He wounded the monster with each charge, but the creature just would not give. Private Niabelis used the distractions to smash into the enemy as well. She called to Flame for strength, but the enemy laughed at her efforts. It's resistance is beyond anything she has ever experienced. She used the Flame's gifts to keep the berserker alive until she could figure out a way to hurt the thing. It's fell gaze made her feel dirty. Inquisitor Pallas poured his last blessing into Bashful. The dolgrim are pushing hard. His mace arm is tired and slick with blood. The battle rages behind him, though he can't tell if they are winning. He is convinced that they are over their heads. Private Niabelis felt weighed down with fatigue. The evil creature before her is somehow responsible. She reached for the small spark of Silver Flame that she carries within her breast and struck out with a beam of searing light. The enemy screamed out of rage and pain. It dropped to the floor trying to put the flames out. Sweet Lips drove his cleaver through it's chest. The witch continued to fight, striking out with its clawed hands and sharpened teeth. If Sweet Lips noticed, he didn't show it. The berserker ripped the cleaver out and tore into the monster with renewed vigor. The thing screeched a spell and sent Sweet Lips flying backwards wrapped in tendrils of cloying shadows. It should be dead twice over. Every time it gets a chance the thing pulls another strip of flesh from it's zombie companion. Her eyes grew wide, Private Niabelis did not hesitate. The Sister Inquisitor kicked the zombie away from the monster's reach. She then dove in and crushed the enemy's skull with her mace, calling on the Flame to smite the unholy terror. It mocked her even as it died, calling out obscenities that would haunt her dreams for months to come. Sweet Lips rose to his feet and eyed the dolgrim surrounding him. His eyes are bulging out of his skull. His face is flushed red and his teeth are clenched so tight that his jaw threatens to crack. The young man's skin is covered in angry red boils from the witch's latest assault. He just stood there wavering slightly. Point waved the Inquisitor back away from the young berserker. The Sergeant had told the men what to expect from Sweet Lips. Bashful sat very still. The young man had bowled him over just a moment ago. None of them want to set him off. An idiot dolgrim jabbed Sweet Lips with a spear. The other Dog Soldiers breathed a sigh of relief. The berserker growled and swung his cleaver like a scythe. Point and Bashful fell in behind the young man, killing with only a bit more sense. They will protect his back while he fights for them. The gawky young man is gone, his features are unrecognizable. There is no stopping Sweet Lips now, the two Dog Soldiers only hope that the Sergeant knows how to calm the boy. “We need to bless the corpse.” Private Niabelis told the Inquisitor. “This filthy thing dared to laugh at the Flame. It resisted most of my prayers.” “Verily, that was not a natural creature,” Pallas agreed. “A ghoul mage, I think, it should be burned. What about that one?” The zombie stood against the wall, begging to be killed. It was once a young woman, approaching maidenhood. The voice was that of a child very much younger. When Inquisitor Pallas demanded it's name, it just started crying. Private Niabelis felt her skin crawl at the sound. Pallas raised his mace and held unclean thing in place with the power of the Flame. Niabelis lifted up her holy symbol called for judgment. The zombie screamed and fell to ash. A dark shadow, like a smudge upon reality hung in place for a moment, then it too was destroyed. “It was evil.” Private Niabelis frowned. “Let us move on. You saw the dolgaunt, did you not?” “The Bishop will know what to do. We must finish this mess first.” If Inquisitor Pallas saw Niabelis flinch, he did not care. “Chances are, you will not be free to pursue it.” Private Niabelis sprinkled some holy water upon the corpse of the ghoul mage. It sizzled as it touched the unnatural flesh. Her mace crushed what was left of it's head, she then circled the corpse and destroyed its hands. She took a step back and held the holy symbol of the Flame before it. “Be thou Blessed!” She intoned, “Be thou Cleansed!” The corpse twitched and then started to writhe obscenely. Niabelis heard the thing laugh as if from a great distance. She girded her heart against it, her mind grew hard and cold with the hot burning will of the flame strengthening her resolve. The ghoul mage resisted, but not for long. Private Niabelis felt something give within her breast, a new strength poured through her body. She poured the last of the holy water upon the ghoul mage. The water set it ablaze. Niabelis stood there holding the holy symbol of the Silver Flame until it was over. Sergeant Ironson barked out new orders when the dolgrim started to panic. The Dog Soldiers started tossing tangle-foot bags. A moment later, several bottles of alchemist's fire and acid followed. The Sergeant made sure none to the filthy dolgrim could get away. Sweet Lips and the others capped the other end of the trap. It was bloody, the dolgrim fought like trapped rats. The Dog Soldiers fought harder. At the very end, Private Niabelis held Sweet Lips down while the others held on to his arms and legs. By rights he should be dead. The battle is done and yet he continues to hack at the fallen enemy. She channeled the Flame's blessing into him and tore out the bolts from his chest. The wounds from the ghoul mage are festering, he is shaking with fever. Two more inquisitors had to spend their blessings to save him. The young man's eyes rolled back into his head and he suddenly burst free. He blinked at them with no recognition in his eyes. “Down boy,” Sgt. Ironson commanded. The necklace about Sweet Lips' neck sent a burst of electricity through the boy's body. The berserker collapsed, this time for good. “He will need to stay in bed for a week, at least.” Niabelis said as one of the Dog Soldiers helped her up. “Has he been checked for taint?” “No, he is a berserker, not a lycanthrope.” Sgt. Ironson replied tersely. “The Flame will tell.” Inquisitor Pallas said. “He is a follower of the Host, touched by Dol Dorn. His strength is a blessing. Keep yer bloody Flame to yerself, Inquisitor.” Sgt. Ironson barked. “The boy is obviously cursed. Can you not see that?” Niabelis demanded. “He bears a heavy burden, that is true, but he is a man. No gift from the Gods comes without a price. Test him if you will, but the Chaplain must be present. He is a Dog Soldier.” Sgt. Ironson ended the conversation by giving them both the evil eye. The Sergeant counted the wounded. Six men are too wounded to fight, but no one is dead just yet. The rest bear assorted wounds and scratches, nothing to keep them from taking a few heads in the next fight. The Inquisitors kept his lads alive, that much is undeniable. The Sister is going to be trouble later. For now, she is bound to her commission. The law is very clearly on his side, let the City Council deal with the politics. Potions and divine healing will allow them to drag their feet to the objective. However, he doesn't know if the men will be able to fight effectively if he forces a march. Sgt. Ironson hissed a curse and kicked at a dolgrim corpse. “Chaplain Odus, contact Captain Rolland. Tell him we ran into trouble, and that we will be delayed. Give him our current position and an estimate of 45 minutes to the pump rooms.” Odus pulled short rod from his belt. It is an advanced communication device from the war; the kind of thing generals get to play with. It is expensive, too expensive for even the City Watch. The Inquisitors looked at one another and then to the Sergeant. He shrugged his shoulders at them. When the Nobles issue equipment, Sergeants don't ask questions. “Sir...the Captain said he is five minutes away!” Chaplain Odus called out in shock. “He's got a watch mage flying ahead to meet us! They were scrying us, sir!” “Oh, this is precious!” the Sergeant snapped. “Private Niabelis, front and center! Chaplain Odus, Inquisitor Pallas, you too. You, start counting dolgrim heads! Is Sweet Lips awake yet!?” The Watch Mage swooped in with a wand in each hand. He is wearing an auxiliary badge and a University tabard. The Captain must have pull, accomplished wizards do not just drop classes to answer calls to the sewers. The mage started asking questions, the Sergeant answered as best he could. The Captain marched in minutes later with his reserves. “Well, Sergeant, I see that you are aiming for a promotion. We haven't killed this many dolgrim in ten years!” The Captain spoke cheerfully. “Is there anything left for me?” The Dog Soldiers lined up. The Chaplain had to physically pull some of the wounded out of the ranks. The Captain authorized healing for the more stubborn soldiers and then ordered a fast march. The Watch Mage tried to scry the pump rooms before they left. He was blocked. The Captain thinks that means a good fight is brewing, the Sergeant just shook his head. The Watch Mage actually said something about looking forward to wielding his power without restriction. Private Niabelis is keeping her mouth shut and her head down. This should be her day. She did everything in her power to get to this place and now it is all crumbling to dust. Maybe she should have let the Sergeant take her head. Inquisitor Pallas should have backed her up. They are both Inquisitors, yet he looked at her as if she were a stranger. The Bishop is her only hope now. Private Niabelis took a calming breath and tried not to grit her teeth. She will endure, her day will come. [/QUOTE]
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