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Shackled City Epic: "Vengeance" (story concluded)
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<blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 1853080" data-attributes="member: 143"><p>Chapter 262</p><p></p><p>The devil seemed to savor Zenna’s expectation of death, but instead of moving to finish her, it inexplicably held its ground. </p><p></p><p>A voice that she instinctively knew was the devil’s sounded in her mind. <em>”You are not to be killed,”</em> it said. </p><p></p><p>Confused, Zenna just stared at it, unable to even think. But when it turned from her and took a step toward Dannel, her indecision evaporated, and she quickly moved to block it, bringing up <em>Alakast</em> again. </p><p></p><p>“If you try to hurt him, either I’ll kill you, or you’ll have to kill me,” she said. </p><p></p><p>The devil regarded her silently for a few seconds; to Zenna the interval seemed like an eternity. Then it smiled, a grim, sardonic expression that seemed horrific on such an alien face. </p><p></p><p>And then it vanished. </p><p> </p><p>Ike Iverson stood, ignoring the faint twinge where the gnome had managed to get a puny attack through his defenses. He’d been hurt, but his various <em>inflict</em> spells had poured new life into him. That was a gift of the darkness to which he’d sold his soul, a trade that he’d never regretted, in that it had given him the power that he’d always craved. </p><p></p><p>And now he relished that power, as his foes finally began to fall around him. The paladin had gone down, the dwarven woman—though she’d annoyingly defied his most potent spell—was battered to the brink of defeat, and that gnome had merely been an annoying distraction. And he was confident that the devil would deal with the elf; while he was a skilled archer, Iverson knew he was far less of a threat in close combat. </p><p></p><p>But even as he rose, a gleaming silver blade appeared before him, a sword that floated in mid-air, darting toward him as though wielded by an invisible swordsman. Iverson simply let his layered defenses absorb the first stroke, more annoyed than threatened. </p><p></p><p>“A <em>spiritual weapon?</em> A minor annoyance...”</p><p></p><p>But as he saw the dwarf woman helping the paladin to his feet, the bright glow of healing energy still shining around her hands, he realized that he might not be done here just yet. </p><p></p><p>“He said you were trouble,” Iverson said, finally drawing his long bastard sword from its sheath. Almost as an afterthought, he <em>dispelled</em> Beorna’s <em>spiritual weapon</em>, and the force-sword winked out of existence. </p><p></p><p>“Who?” Arun said. “Who pulls your strings, cleric?”</p><p></p><p>But Iverson’s only response was, “Let us finish this, then.”</p><p></p><p>The priest’s initial concern was that the dwarves would try to flank him, but the two actually gave way before his approach. The woman’s reservoir must have been running dry; the paladin still looked barely able to stand despite the healing he’d received. And for all <em>her</em> earlier bravado, the woman warrior—templar, he now realized—seemed small and hesitant. The paladin said a few words to her in a guttural language; dwarvish, Iverson realized, though he did not speak the tongue. </p><p></p><p>“Not so bold now, are we?” he said, with a laugh. With a sudden movement he hurled a spell at the paladin, hoping to end it quickly, but he wasn’t especially surprised that the dwarf resisted his magic. Tough creatures, those dwarves... a pity that their durability so rarely survived the transition to undeath. </p><p></p><p>The templar channeled a few more driblets of positive energy into herself. The paladin just stood there, a slightly vacant look on his face. Iverson waved his sword in front of him to distract them, while drawing upon his most potent valence of spell energy into another deadly <em>inflict wounds spell</em>. With a grim smile, he started forward....</p><p></p><p>Movement behind him drew his attention in time for him to receive the charge from the giant golden-skinned lizard that had appeared seemingly from nowhere. Iverson snarled as the creature tried to bite his arm, and he stabbed a finger into its body, pouring the terrible energies of his spell into the creature. <em>Forgot about the damned celestial mount</em>, the cleric berated himself. The entire temple was protected with an <em>unhallow</em> spell laid by Aloustinai herself, but paladins <em>called</em> their pets, which got around the inability of good creatures to be summoned inside its precincts. Still, from the way that the creature shook and trembled at the negative energy pouring through it, it wouldn’t last very long. Perhaps it could even be captured, and turned to his use...</p><p></p><p>A jolt of pain that stabbed through his back reminded him that he still had living enemies to deal with. Iverson turned, the lizard still trying in vain to get a grasp on him, to see the paladin dwarf lift his sword for another strike. Iverson met the swing with his own blade, turning it aside. </p><p></p><p>“My power runs deep,” the cleric said, taunting him. “I have plenty left for your destruction!”</p><p></p><p>They exchanged another series of blows, and Iverson took another hit that sent pain surging through him. “Your sword is potent,” he said. Ignoring the lizard, which still had not managed to hit him, he defensively cast another <em>inflict</em> spell, catching the paladin on the arm when he launched another attack. Arun’s body stiffened and he nearly dropped his weapon, and he stumbled back. Iverson sensed that he’d partially resisted the spell, but even so the dwarf was right back on the edge of unconsciousness once more, with only a gentle nudge to push him over. And this time, he would not be coming back. </p><p></p><p>But then he realized that he’d lost track of the other dwarf, the templar.</p><p></p><p>Even as he turned, the dwarf woman appeared at the edge of his vision slit, leaping at him with her sword blazing. Again the assault faltered against his layered defenses. He lashed out at her, driving her back, his sword tearing through her battered armor to add a shallow gash to her tally of wounds. </p><p></p><p>“I am not so bad with the blade, either,” he laughed. The lizard, working persistently at him, finally managed to grab hold of his leg with enough of a grip to cause pain, and he absently reached down to finish off that annoyance. </p><p></p><p>Pain—real pain, this time—exploded through his lower back. Staggering forward, he looked down to see that gnome, that ANNOYING GNOME!—with her little toy rapier in her hand, its length slick with his blood. “I thought I killed you!” he snarled. </p><p></p><p>“No, sorry,” she said. “I’m pretty tough to kill, actually.” </p><p></p><p>“Well, then I will make certain of the job!” he yelled. He unleashed his reserve, a quickened <em>inflict serious wounds</em> that healed most of the damage he’d suffered. Then, turning to face his enemies, all of which were nearly dead—had to be!—he called upon the dark power of his patron yet again. </p><p></p><p>But before he could strike, a bright light filled his eyes. Within that glow, a painful nimbus that drove into his eyes like twin nails, came a pair of holy blades. They struck his defenses and parted them, slamming into his body with the full force of two <em>smites</em> behind them. In disbelief he staggered back, not even feeling pain as he looked down to see huge rents in his torso, his sundered organs visible beneath a sea of blood and bone and ruined tissue. </p><p></p><p>“No...” he said, calling a spell that evaporated, the magic just outside his reach. “No, it cannot be... I was promised...”</p><p></p><p>Then he slumped to the ground, dead. </p><p></p><p>For a few heartbeats, the three companions stood there, looking down at his body. Iverson’s assessment of their condition had been not far off the mark, and their own wounds left them barely able to stand. Then a loud crash drew their attention back to the center of the room. Hodge stood there as the last render zombie slowly twitched and fell still. The dwarf was drenched in blood and gore, much of it his own. Behind him they could see Zenna and Dannel standing at the breach in the <em>wall of ice</em>, too badly hurt to push through the opening, the elf leaning heavily upon <em>Alakast</em> to keep him upright. </p><p></p><p>Hodge looked around at the scene of carnage around him. “Aye, now that were a battle,” he said. He reached for his jug, but before he could grasp it, his eyes rolled up into his head and he toppled over onto his back.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Lazybones, post: 1853080, member: 143"] Chapter 262 The devil seemed to savor Zenna’s expectation of death, but instead of moving to finish her, it inexplicably held its ground. A voice that she instinctively knew was the devil’s sounded in her mind. [I]”You are not to be killed,”[/I] it said. Confused, Zenna just stared at it, unable to even think. But when it turned from her and took a step toward Dannel, her indecision evaporated, and she quickly moved to block it, bringing up [I]Alakast[/I] again. “If you try to hurt him, either I’ll kill you, or you’ll have to kill me,” she said. The devil regarded her silently for a few seconds; to Zenna the interval seemed like an eternity. Then it smiled, a grim, sardonic expression that seemed horrific on such an alien face. And then it vanished. Ike Iverson stood, ignoring the faint twinge where the gnome had managed to get a puny attack through his defenses. He’d been hurt, but his various [I]inflict[/I] spells had poured new life into him. That was a gift of the darkness to which he’d sold his soul, a trade that he’d never regretted, in that it had given him the power that he’d always craved. And now he relished that power, as his foes finally began to fall around him. The paladin had gone down, the dwarven woman—though she’d annoyingly defied his most potent spell—was battered to the brink of defeat, and that gnome had merely been an annoying distraction. And he was confident that the devil would deal with the elf; while he was a skilled archer, Iverson knew he was far less of a threat in close combat. But even as he rose, a gleaming silver blade appeared before him, a sword that floated in mid-air, darting toward him as though wielded by an invisible swordsman. Iverson simply let his layered defenses absorb the first stroke, more annoyed than threatened. “A [I]spiritual weapon?[/I] A minor annoyance...” But as he saw the dwarf woman helping the paladin to his feet, the bright glow of healing energy still shining around her hands, he realized that he might not be done here just yet. “He said you were trouble,” Iverson said, finally drawing his long bastard sword from its sheath. Almost as an afterthought, he [I]dispelled[/I] Beorna’s [I]spiritual weapon[/I], and the force-sword winked out of existence. “Who?” Arun said. “Who pulls your strings, cleric?” But Iverson’s only response was, “Let us finish this, then.” The priest’s initial concern was that the dwarves would try to flank him, but the two actually gave way before his approach. The woman’s reservoir must have been running dry; the paladin still looked barely able to stand despite the healing he’d received. And for all [I]her[/I] earlier bravado, the woman warrior—templar, he now realized—seemed small and hesitant. The paladin said a few words to her in a guttural language; dwarvish, Iverson realized, though he did not speak the tongue. “Not so bold now, are we?” he said, with a laugh. With a sudden movement he hurled a spell at the paladin, hoping to end it quickly, but he wasn’t especially surprised that the dwarf resisted his magic. Tough creatures, those dwarves... a pity that their durability so rarely survived the transition to undeath. The templar channeled a few more driblets of positive energy into herself. The paladin just stood there, a slightly vacant look on his face. Iverson waved his sword in front of him to distract them, while drawing upon his most potent valence of spell energy into another deadly [I]inflict wounds spell[/I]. With a grim smile, he started forward.... Movement behind him drew his attention in time for him to receive the charge from the giant golden-skinned lizard that had appeared seemingly from nowhere. Iverson snarled as the creature tried to bite his arm, and he stabbed a finger into its body, pouring the terrible energies of his spell into the creature. [I]Forgot about the damned celestial mount[/I], the cleric berated himself. The entire temple was protected with an [I]unhallow[/I] spell laid by Aloustinai herself, but paladins [I]called[/I] their pets, which got around the inability of good creatures to be summoned inside its precincts. Still, from the way that the creature shook and trembled at the negative energy pouring through it, it wouldn’t last very long. Perhaps it could even be captured, and turned to his use... A jolt of pain that stabbed through his back reminded him that he still had living enemies to deal with. Iverson turned, the lizard still trying in vain to get a grasp on him, to see the paladin dwarf lift his sword for another strike. Iverson met the swing with his own blade, turning it aside. “My power runs deep,” the cleric said, taunting him. “I have plenty left for your destruction!” They exchanged another series of blows, and Iverson took another hit that sent pain surging through him. “Your sword is potent,” he said. Ignoring the lizard, which still had not managed to hit him, he defensively cast another [I]inflict[/I] spell, catching the paladin on the arm when he launched another attack. Arun’s body stiffened and he nearly dropped his weapon, and he stumbled back. Iverson sensed that he’d partially resisted the spell, but even so the dwarf was right back on the edge of unconsciousness once more, with only a gentle nudge to push him over. And this time, he would not be coming back. But then he realized that he’d lost track of the other dwarf, the templar. Even as he turned, the dwarf woman appeared at the edge of his vision slit, leaping at him with her sword blazing. Again the assault faltered against his layered defenses. He lashed out at her, driving her back, his sword tearing through her battered armor to add a shallow gash to her tally of wounds. “I am not so bad with the blade, either,” he laughed. The lizard, working persistently at him, finally managed to grab hold of his leg with enough of a grip to cause pain, and he absently reached down to finish off that annoyance. Pain—real pain, this time—exploded through his lower back. Staggering forward, he looked down to see that gnome, that ANNOYING GNOME!—with her little toy rapier in her hand, its length slick with his blood. “I thought I killed you!” he snarled. “No, sorry,” she said. “I’m pretty tough to kill, actually.” “Well, then I will make certain of the job!” he yelled. He unleashed his reserve, a quickened [I]inflict serious wounds[/I] that healed most of the damage he’d suffered. Then, turning to face his enemies, all of which were nearly dead—had to be!—he called upon the dark power of his patron yet again. But before he could strike, a bright light filled his eyes. Within that glow, a painful nimbus that drove into his eyes like twin nails, came a pair of holy blades. They struck his defenses and parted them, slamming into his body with the full force of two [I]smites[/I] behind them. In disbelief he staggered back, not even feeling pain as he looked down to see huge rents in his torso, his sundered organs visible beneath a sea of blood and bone and ruined tissue. “No...” he said, calling a spell that evaporated, the magic just outside his reach. “No, it cannot be... I was promised...” Then he slumped to the ground, dead. For a few heartbeats, the three companions stood there, looking down at his body. Iverson’s assessment of their condition had been not far off the mark, and their own wounds left them barely able to stand. Then a loud crash drew their attention back to the center of the room. Hodge stood there as the last render zombie slowly twitched and fell still. The dwarf was drenched in blood and gore, much of it his own. Behind him they could see Zenna and Dannel standing at the breach in the [I]wall of ice[/I], too badly hurt to push through the opening, the elf leaning heavily upon [I]Alakast[/I] to keep him upright. Hodge looked around at the scene of carnage around him. “Aye, now that were a battle,” he said. He reached for his jug, but before he could grasp it, his eyes rolled up into his head and he toppled over onto his back. [/QUOTE]
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