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Shackled City Epic: "Vengeance" (story concluded)
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<blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 1851175" data-attributes="member: 143"><p>Chapter 261</p><p></p><p>Dannel’s body felt like it was a single raging sea of pain, but he was still conscious. He still clutched his staff with the fingers of his left hand, which had clenched around the white shaft so tightly that he felt it even through the pain. Rolling over onto his back, he looked up to see the devil dropping straight toward him. </p><p></p><p><em>Oh, crap!</em></p><p></p><p>Desperation and adrenaline briefly overcame his pain, and he was able to get <em>Alakast</em> up enough to strike it a glancing blow on the shoulder, using the devil’s downward momentum to add to the effectiveness of the blow. The osyluth shrieked in pain as the weapon, created to destroy creatures such as it, unleashed its destructive power into it. But Dannel paid for his effort a moment later as the devil lunged and snared his arm in its powerful jaws, crushing the limb and snapping its head to the side to slam the elf into the wall with enough force to knock him unconscious. The staff fell from his hands, harmless now. The devil smiled, its stinger dancing eagerly as it rose up over the elf...</p><p></p><p>“GET AWAY FROM HIM!” Zenna cried, leaping at the devil from behind. The osyluth turned, its stinger snapping out... to vanish through one of the <em>mirror images</em> that she had conjured in defense. She stabbed a short wand into the devil’s side, the bone device she’d won in their clash with the lich in the skull mountain on Occipitus. The wand unleashed a sharp red jolt of energy that overcame the devil’s magical resistance to open a splay of ugly red wounds in its body, running out from the point of impact like cracks on a pane of glass. </p><p></p><p>The devil hissed in pain, but Zenna knew she’d gotten lucky with the wand, and that the initiative had now passed to the terrible fiend. </p><p></p><p>Arun, staggering backward, called upon the divine power of Moradin to heal his wounds. Iverson, calmly following, had still not drawn his sword, but he had already proven that he needed no greater weapon than his touch, and the dark power of whatever god—clearly not Kelemvor—that he worshipped. </p><p></p><p>One of the massive zombies clattered to the floor, its body riven by huge gashes, the unholy life force that animated it failing. Over its body staggered Beorna, her breath coming in huge gasps, her face haggard and pale. But the sword in her hand still glowed with pure light as she lifted it and pointed the blade at Iverson. </p><p></p><p>“Back... off... priest...” she said. </p><p></p><p>Iverson shrugged, lifted his hand, and called upon his dark power once more. </p><p></p><p>The dark power of the <em>mass inflict wounds</em> spread outward in a wave. The priest’s own wounds knitted shut, and Arun crumpled, dying. Beorna’s face twisted in anguish, although she did not fall, and some distance away Hodge, still fighting the last of the zombies, let out a stream of expletives as the wave impacted him. </p><p></p><p>“Aaaaaaaaa!” </p><p></p><p>Mole’s inarticulate yell drew Iverson’s attention around. The wiry gnome, bleeding from her nose and ears, tumbled at the surprised priest, tangling herself in his feet, applying leverage to the back of his left knee as he turned. Iverson, caught off balance, fell forward, landing prone. </p><p></p><p>“Die! Die!” Mole shouted, stabbing her little knife into a gap in the man’s armor. The tiny blade did little in the way of damage, and Iverson quickly recovered. He turned onto his side, and reaching down grasped Mole by the throat, unleashing a powerful surge of negative energy into her. Blood gushed out of Mole’s mouth as the spell ravaged her insides, and her eyes swept back in her head as she lost consciousness. With a look of contempt, the cleric tossed her aside. </p><p></p><p>Zenna dodged back as the devil came at her again. She only had two <em>mirror images</em> left, now, and she bore gashes along her side where its claws had already successfully found her. The stinger waited, poised to strike once her protective distractions were depleted. She knew that Dannel was dying, that he needed her, but she also knew that if she paused to heal the elf, the devil would tear her to pieces. </p><p></p><p>She turned and ran toward the fallen elf. The devil was quick to move to intercept, but instead of forcing past it toward Dannel, she turned to the side, where <em>Alakast</em> lay. Bending down, she took up the weapon, staggering as hot breath followed by angry pain erupted in her side, as the devil tore into her shoulder with its protruding jaws. </p><p></p><p><em>Who am you kidding!</em> a voice sounded deep in her mind as she fell back against the nearby wall, turning to face the devil. <em>You’re no fighter!</em>. </p><p></p><p>But then she caught sight of Dannel, lying there, blood smeared across his face. </p><p></p><p>Almost blindly, she thrust <em>Alakast</em> at the devil. </p><p></p><p>A sharp sound like a miniature thunderclap stunned her. When she regained enough control of her senses to realize what was happening, she saw the devil standing there, a great hole burned in its chest where the staff had struck. For a moment, she felt a giddy, desperate hope that she’d killed it. </p><p></p><p>But then the devil lifted its eyes to meet hers, and it moved, coming forward again, the stinger hovering eagerly in wait. </p><p></p><p>She’d given her best shot, and it hadn’t stopped it. She saw her death, and knew with a grim inevitability that there was nothing that she could do to avert it.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Lazybones, post: 1851175, member: 143"] Chapter 261 Dannel’s body felt like it was a single raging sea of pain, but he was still conscious. He still clutched his staff with the fingers of his left hand, which had clenched around the white shaft so tightly that he felt it even through the pain. Rolling over onto his back, he looked up to see the devil dropping straight toward him. [I]Oh, crap![/I] Desperation and adrenaline briefly overcame his pain, and he was able to get [I]Alakast[/I] up enough to strike it a glancing blow on the shoulder, using the devil’s downward momentum to add to the effectiveness of the blow. The osyluth shrieked in pain as the weapon, created to destroy creatures such as it, unleashed its destructive power into it. But Dannel paid for his effort a moment later as the devil lunged and snared his arm in its powerful jaws, crushing the limb and snapping its head to the side to slam the elf into the wall with enough force to knock him unconscious. The staff fell from his hands, harmless now. The devil smiled, its stinger dancing eagerly as it rose up over the elf... “GET AWAY FROM HIM!” Zenna cried, leaping at the devil from behind. The osyluth turned, its stinger snapping out... to vanish through one of the [I]mirror images[/I] that she had conjured in defense. She stabbed a short wand into the devil’s side, the bone device she’d won in their clash with the lich in the skull mountain on Occipitus. The wand unleashed a sharp red jolt of energy that overcame the devil’s magical resistance to open a splay of ugly red wounds in its body, running out from the point of impact like cracks on a pane of glass. The devil hissed in pain, but Zenna knew she’d gotten lucky with the wand, and that the initiative had now passed to the terrible fiend. Arun, staggering backward, called upon the divine power of Moradin to heal his wounds. Iverson, calmly following, had still not drawn his sword, but he had already proven that he needed no greater weapon than his touch, and the dark power of whatever god—clearly not Kelemvor—that he worshipped. One of the massive zombies clattered to the floor, its body riven by huge gashes, the unholy life force that animated it failing. Over its body staggered Beorna, her breath coming in huge gasps, her face haggard and pale. But the sword in her hand still glowed with pure light as she lifted it and pointed the blade at Iverson. “Back... off... priest...” she said. Iverson shrugged, lifted his hand, and called upon his dark power once more. The dark power of the [I]mass inflict wounds[/I] spread outward in a wave. The priest’s own wounds knitted shut, and Arun crumpled, dying. Beorna’s face twisted in anguish, although she did not fall, and some distance away Hodge, still fighting the last of the zombies, let out a stream of expletives as the wave impacted him. “Aaaaaaaaa!” Mole’s inarticulate yell drew Iverson’s attention around. The wiry gnome, bleeding from her nose and ears, tumbled at the surprised priest, tangling herself in his feet, applying leverage to the back of his left knee as he turned. Iverson, caught off balance, fell forward, landing prone. “Die! Die!” Mole shouted, stabbing her little knife into a gap in the man’s armor. The tiny blade did little in the way of damage, and Iverson quickly recovered. He turned onto his side, and reaching down grasped Mole by the throat, unleashing a powerful surge of negative energy into her. Blood gushed out of Mole’s mouth as the spell ravaged her insides, and her eyes swept back in her head as she lost consciousness. With a look of contempt, the cleric tossed her aside. Zenna dodged back as the devil came at her again. She only had two [I]mirror images[/I] left, now, and she bore gashes along her side where its claws had already successfully found her. The stinger waited, poised to strike once her protective distractions were depleted. She knew that Dannel was dying, that he needed her, but she also knew that if she paused to heal the elf, the devil would tear her to pieces. She turned and ran toward the fallen elf. The devil was quick to move to intercept, but instead of forcing past it toward Dannel, she turned to the side, where [I]Alakast[/I] lay. Bending down, she took up the weapon, staggering as hot breath followed by angry pain erupted in her side, as the devil tore into her shoulder with its protruding jaws. [I]Who am you kidding![/I] a voice sounded deep in her mind as she fell back against the nearby wall, turning to face the devil. [I]You’re no fighter![/I]. But then she caught sight of Dannel, lying there, blood smeared across his face. Almost blindly, she thrust [I]Alakast[/I] at the devil. A sharp sound like a miniature thunderclap stunned her. When she regained enough control of her senses to realize what was happening, she saw the devil standing there, a great hole burned in its chest where the staff had struck. For a moment, she felt a giddy, desperate hope that she’d killed it. But then the devil lifted its eyes to meet hers, and it moved, coming forward again, the stinger hovering eagerly in wait. She’d given her best shot, and it hadn’t stopped it. She saw her death, and knew with a grim inevitability that there was nothing that she could do to avert it. [/QUOTE]
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