Way!
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Chapter 114
As Kurok turned away from Vederos he drank the contents of the vial he had palmed earlier, using his body to conceal the motion.
The sorcerer’s
chromatic orb slammed into him from behind an instant later. An electrical pulse shot through his body, causing him to drop the empty vial as his muscles spasmed. Kurok staggered forward a step, but he kept himself from tumbling down the rocky slope that descended to the edge of the woods.
Recovering quickly, he turned his head and fixed his attacker with eyes that glowed with power.
Flames erupted around the drow, who quickly evoked a
misty step and transported himself away.
Kurok spun around and quickly located his foe, who’d materialized about twenty feet further up the slope. Vederos looked only a bit singed from his
hellish rebuke, but it was clear that he’d been taken a bit aback by the fury of Kurok’s response to his ambush. For a moment doubt flashed in his mind; he’d poured all of the arcane power he could muster into that
orb. But the dark elf recovered some of his confidence as the warlock hurled a pair of
eldritch blasts at him, both of which he was able to dodge.
“Too slow, old man!” the dark elf hissed, before countering with another powerful spell. This one he formed from raw sonic energy, focusing it into a blast that struck Kurok with an explosion of thunderous sound. The goblins and their beasts flinched back, the former reaching up to cover their ears. All of them were standing now, intent upon the duel taking place in front of them.
For a moment dust and bits of debris, stirred up by the concussive impact of the
shatter spell, swirled around Kurok. But when they dissipated the warlock remained standing. Blood trickled from his nostrils, but bright flames blazing in his eyes.
Vederos, seeing what was coming, tried to evade, but this time was nowhere he could go to escape the warlock’s
hellish rebuke. The drow staggered back as the unholy flames enveloped him, searing his flesh and pulling a scream from his throat. For a moment all he could see was that fire, but when it finally faded he turned and drew once more upon his magic. Thus far Kurok had absorbed everything he’d thrown at him, but the hobgoblin was only mortal; there was only so much damage even he could take. He ignored a voice that whispered,
He is Blooded in the back of his mind as he began conjuring another
chromatic orb.
But when he turned around he was surprised to see Kurok standing only a few paces in front of him. The warlock’s hand was already stretched out toward him, and Vederos’s eyes widened in horror as he saw wisps of
something floating in the air between them.
The drow tried to finish his spell, to unleash his
orb before the hobgoblin’s spell could reach him. But even he felt the magic coalesce between his fingertips a fresh searing erupted, this time in his throat. He gasped as he felt tongues of fire plunge into his lungs. His spell evaporated as pain overwhelmed all other sensations. He thought that maybe he was falling, but he could not be sure; all he could feel was the pain.
But then something pierced that agony and drew him back to reality for a moment. It was Kurok, his face right in front of his. The hobgoblin’s hands were locked around his throat, keeping him upright. Vederos tried to speak, but his abused lungs could not produce any air. All he could do was stare into his adversary’s dark eyes, which seemed to swell until they eclipsed even the pain, until there was nothing else… nothing…
* * *
Kurok tried not to stumble as he released Vederos. The dead husk of the sorcerer fell in a limp heap on the ground.
Usk and his other Bloodrider slowed as they trotted up the last bit of the rise and stopped on the edge of the stone shelf. The goblin leader did not seem that surprised to see the drow lying dead on the ground, but his eyes did widen when they traveled to the rear of the camp, to the niche that led to their sheltered sleeping quarters. For the veteran goblin, betraying even that much reaction was equal to startled amazement from anyone else, so when Kurok turned around he was ready for anything from another flock of perytons to a sudden avalanche.
What he saw took him by surprise as well.
A man stepped forward. He was an elf, one of the surface kind from the look of him, his features thin and angular. Somehow he’d managed to get into the rear of their camp without detection; the only way in through there was by descending a hundred feet of sheer cliffs. He carried no weapons, and wore only a light silk tunic over tight trousers tucked into calf-high boots of soft leather.
The goblins and their worgs in the camp were the last to notice the intruder. The goblins jumped in surprise as the elf strode through their midst, apparently unconcerned, but more disconcerting was the reaction from the worgs. The ferocious beasts all drew back, whimpering, lowering their heads to the stone in a gesture of submission.
It was that reaction that finally told Kurok what was happening here.
“Stand down,” he ordered the goblins, just in case one of them was going to do something stupid. Then he went over to where the elf was waiting for him, a slight smirk on his face. The warlock kept going a few paces more to put some distance between them and the goblins. After leaving him waiting a moment, the elf finally moved to join him.
“That form is…inappropriate,” the warlock said.
The elf laughed, a deep, musical sound that made Kurok want to smile despite himself. But he said, “As you wish.” His features blurred and shifted, swelling until a tall and powerful hobgoblin warrior faced him. “Better?”
“A pity you did not choose to arrive a few minutes earlier,” Kurok said.
The other laughed again. “But then, how would I have known who was the stronger?”
“That is all you care about? What about the mission?”
“You, more than anyone, perhaps, should know that the two cannot always be separated. That,” he said, gesturing desultorily toward the remains of the drow, “is not the greatest threat you will face before this is done.”
“I agree that Vederos would have likely have had to be dealt with at some point, but his help would have been useful against the guardian of the shrine. Unless you have come to offer your aid in that endeavor?”
The warrior held up a finger and shook it at him, an incongruous gesture given his current appearance. “You know that is not how this works,” he said.
“Naturally,” Kurok growled.
“The master that we both serve has full faith in your ingenuity, Blooded Kurok. Assuming that you are able to continue? This… encounter… has not taken too much from you?”
“I am fine,” Kurok said.
“Yes. I did notice that you used the gift of the Veiled One to draw the life from your adversary. And you have these…
fine warriors to assist you in your quest.”
“Was there any other purpose to your visit, emissary?” Kurok asked.
“Just to provide a warning. There are others in the Silverpeak Valley who may be a threat to your recovery of what waits in the shrine. And a power is working against us to guide them to it.”
“Can you be more specific?”
“Not at this time.”
“Then you have told me nothing that I do not already know. What good are you to me, then?”
“Careful, my friend. I do find you amusing, quite amusing, but do not presume to think that you and I are equals.”
Kurok leaned in and lowered his voice even further. “I am only trying to complete the mandate that was given to me. I do not question those orders, but it will do our master no good if I fail. And at the moment, that seems to be a quite likely possibility, even apart from these other agents you referenced.”
The warrior smiled again. “You must have faith, Kurok. There are few things in life that cannot be resolved with the proper application of force.”
Without warning he reached out and placed his fingertips on Kurok’s chest. The warlock sucked in a startled breath as a jolt of icy chill penetrated him down to his bones. His knees nearly buckled as bright flashes of expanding awareness exploded in his mind, and for a moment he lost track of where he was, even
who he was.
After what felt like hours but could only have been a moment or two, his senses rushed back to normal. He let out a breath and was surprised to see it fog in the air.
“What…” he said.
“The
Hunger of Hadar is a rare gift, granted only to the strongest of those who follow the Veiled One,” the warrior said. “I suggest that you put it to wise use.”
With a final chuckle he turned and walked away, back toward the sheltered niche that held their camp. Still recovering from what had been done to him, Kurok could only stand there and watch him go. He waited until the warrior was out of sight, vanishing into the dark cleft in the rock face. Somehow he knew that if he followed him in there, he would find the interior deserted.
He reached up and rubbed at the spots where those fingers had rested; he could still feel the chill in his skin. Then he turned and walked over to where Usk was waiting. From the looks on the faces of the goblins, at least this visit would help to solve his morale problem.
“Send your scouting parties north,” Kurok commanded. “Stay away from any of the human settlements, but I want to know if any of them head into this part of the valley. Tell your other warriors and their worgs to get what rest they can. We will remain here for one more day, and then pay another visit to the shrine.”
“It shall be as you command, Blooded,” the goblin leader said.