[Realms #460a] An Unlikely Hero
"Great!" the wizard replied. "Now what do we do with it?"
"The swords!" Morier said quickly, turning away from the gem with reluctance. "We need them. Now!"
"Yeah... well I sort of... dropped mine back when the giant face screamed at us," Huzair admitted, shuddering invisibly. Morier nodded.
"Me too," he told his invisible companion. "Hopefully Noxin or Saelus picked them up."
"Well, where are they?" Huzair groused. "We are in kind of a hurry here!"
"I saw Saelus and Noxin
Levitating toward the island," the albino told his friend. "But I think the elemental's going to get to them before they get to us." There was a pause during which they listened to the rising howl of the wind below and Huzair reached a decision.
"Good-bye, my friend," the wizard's voice said and then his Valiant Vessel traveler's purse appeared in the air and thunked down at Morier's feet. "It was a pleasure fighting with you." The eldritch warrior looked down at the bag his eyes grew wide with concern.
"Huzair? What are you thinking?" Morier called but there was no response. The mage was already gone.
Saelus was urging himself along the jagged underside of the island when he heard Huzair's voice coming from somewhere nearby.
"The Heart is up top, Colonel," he said. "I hope to hell you brought the swords with you."
"I have half of them," Saelus replied without slowing his methodical pace.
"Then move your ass," Huzair replied. "I will try slowing the elemental."
Huzair looked down at the thing forming itself below him. Distortions in the vapor and wind of the thing suggested two eyes and a ragged mouth. It seemed to stare right at him despite the fact that he was
Invisible and he suppressed another shudder.
"I cannot understand why we are rescuing you, Dridana. This quest has killed so many of us already," Huzair cried out to the spirit of the goddess he'd come here to save. "I hope you are worth saving!"
And then he dove to the right,
Wand of Scorch ready in his hand. He pointed and spoke a command word unleashing a tongue of magical fire that struck the vaporous elemental squarely. The flame was caught up in its swirling body as it began to spin, transforming in an eyeblink from a humanoid to a sixty foot tall cyclone.
The whirlwind came at him so fast that he could do nothing to avoid it. And then he was gripped by the wind, buffeted from all sides and scoured by debris caught up in the tornado with him.
Saelus
Levitated over the side of the island and stepped easily onto the grass beside the bubbling spring. He spotted Morier and started to run, Moltenblade hot in his fist.
Noxin's
Form had remained
Gaseous, content to slowly drift forward. But upon seeing the wizard running toward the pale elf, he dismissed the effect. As soon as he regained his solidity, he began to run, displaying the speed for which his barbarian tribe was famous.
Morier picked up Huzair's
Handy Haversack and found the flap unclasped and open. Attached to the top was a scrap of parchment on which was a note written in the wizard's spidery script. It read:
"If you are reading this, I am dead.
Morier, divide my stuff the best you see fit.
Your decision is my final wish.
Tell the old man I died a hero.
Your friend, Huzair."
Morier looked up and mouthed the word, "No."
Suspended within the cyclone, Huzair tried to activate his
Ring of Blinking, but it did nothing; belatedly, he considered that this pocket dimension must have no connection to the ethereal plane. And as the winds ripped at him, shredding his flesh, he focused his Concentration on casting one last spell.
"This is a manuever I learned from Blackheart," he told the elemental through gritted teeth. "See you on the other side."
Then he spoke two words of magic,
"Pilae inflammati!" and detonated a
Fireball on himself. It blew the elemental's whirlwind apart from the inside and reduced Huzair Blacksmoke to a cloud of ash.