Richard Rawen
First Post
Lazybones said:
Um... so . . . what the heck are they gonna do !?
Lazybones said:
I can so hear his voice... no longer dripping with sarcasm, just stating the blind sad truth.
With an attitude, of course
The Doomed Bastards: Reckoning (story complete)
- Thread starter Lazybones
- Start date
Um... so . . . what the heck are they gonna do !?
I can so hear his voice... no longer dripping with sarcasm, just stating the blind sad truth.
With an attitude, of course
Lazybones
Adventurer
Today's post begins the answer to that question, but you'll have to come back next week for the final answer.Richard Rawen said:
* * * * *
Chapter 204
SHADOW SURPRISE
Varo cried out, his voice echoing uncannily off the oddly angled walls. “Gather around me, at once!”
His companions needed no encouragement, as they were each all too familiar with the deadly effects of a shadow’s touch. There were too many to fight, too many for Varo to turn, so they relied on the cleric’s experience and instincts, falling back on a point in the center of the room.
The leading edge of the shadow charge pressed in among them, penetrating armor and flesh alike with ease. Talen was staggered as a pair of shadows siphoned strength from him, and he shouted, “Varo, now!”
But the cleric waited another second, a seeming eternity as the shadows eagerly assaulted the defenders. Dar bisected a shadow with his sword, but the weapon passed harmlessly through it, and it in turn cut through his arm, sucking away a measure of his strength. All of them suffered attacks, and still more shadows were descending, a curtain of black that blocked out their light sources, closing them in within a shrinking bubble of light.
“Varo!” Talen yelled.
The cleric lifted a hand high into the air, thrusting through the body of a shadow to raise a wand crafted of rune-marked bone. The cleric drew upon the power of the device, stolen from the corpse of Theron, and summoned a flame strike that descended directly upon himself and his companions. Shay was the only one to react in time, hurling herself out of their circle and away from the descending column of fire. The rest of them suffered cruel and familiar burns as the spell wrought its deadly effect, but it also burned away all of the shadows.
Or nearly all; two of them had followed Shay on her leap, and as she came to her feet they continued to harry her. One dug its claws through her back, and the scout fell, her strength all but gone. The pair surged in to finish the job, but Dar, Talen, and Allera were there at once to aid her. Once again Valor failed to bite, but Talen tore one in two with Beatus Incendia, while Allera used a precious healing spell to disrupt the other.
Varo knelt over Kalend, who’d fallen unconscious, his body covered with burns from the flame strike. The cleric stabilized him with a trickle of magical healing, then said, “Allera, Kalend requires your aid.”
Dar turned angrily on Varo. “What in the hells was that, priest?”
Varo took out a healing potion and drained its contents. “It was either that, or accept casualties. I could not have possibly affected so many shadows at once with a rebuke, and if I had focused the wand’s power on one portion of the room, the other shadows would have killed us before I had a chance to fire another.”
Talen returned carrying Shay; the scout was too weak to move. Once Allera had returned Kalend to consciousness, she took Tribitz’s rod and treated all of them for their lost strength. All save Varo; the cleric used a lesser restoration spell to accomplish the same effect.
“I am glad that my instincts warned me not to trust you,” Shay said to Varo, once Allera had treated her.
“Your instincts quite nearly cost you your life,” Varo said. “Had another shadow followed you out of the blast radius of the strike, you would now be undead, like them.”
Dar drained a healing draught and hurled the empty bottle across the room. “Let’s get on with it,” he said.
It took them only a few minutes to find the secret door. Varo closed his eyes and cast out for the source of the pulsing tendrils of energy that they could all feel now, thrumming through the room like the heartbeat of some great machine. He directed them to the proper wall, where Shay uncovered the hidden trigger that allowed a wide segment of the wall to swing open.
The space beyond was surprisingly unremarkable. The dusty, barren chamber was maybe twenty feet square, its only feature of note a crude stone altar set into the center of the wall to their right. Stone etchings were cut into the wall above the altar, but like the doors outside they were worn down to indecipherability.
“Something’s not right here,” Dar muttered under his breath. They moved into the room, but clustered close to the secret panel, wary of another trap.
“The sounds,” Shay said. “This place... it sounds bigger than it looks...”
“An illusion,” Varo said. “A veil lies over this place, masking its true extent.”
“Can you dispel it?” Talen asked, but before the cleric could respond, a cold chill passed through them, a scant second before a wave of incorporeal undead passed through the far wall. There were over a dozen of them, mostly shadows, but with several wraiths among their number, their glowing eyes shining with hunger for the life energy of the companions.
Varo raised his wand, and called down a flame strike. The column of fire filled the room, close enough to singe the edges of their ragged garments as the backblast washed over them. Some of the undead were able to avoid the flames, but they could not escape the divine potency infused within the spell. Perhaps the fact that the wand had been crafted by a follower of Orcus made it more deadly to creatures of undeath, or perhaps it was something in Varo himself as he drew upon its magic. Whatever the source, the spell was devastating, and when the flames cleared, only a pair of wraiths remained, their insubstantial forms riven and wavering. Both creatures pressed their attacks, but Dar and Talen were waiting for them, and cut them apart before they could strike.
Varo raised his wand again, and while the others could hear the rush of flames from somewhere beyond the wall, they could not see it.
Dar faced the wall, Valor at the ready, but he held his ground, wary of charging forward into another ambush. Allera, standing in his shadow, looked past him and grew pale, her hands trembling.
“Varo!” Talen yelled.
“Marshal your will, commander,” the cleric said. “See what is there, not what your eyes tell you to see.”
The two fighters, standing side by side, stared at the wall. The illusory barrier shimmered and dissolved, revealing a much larger space beyond. They realized that the room they were standing in was but a foyer, opening onto a broad hall easily sixty feet wide and many times that in length. Two rows of bronze pillars graven with obscene designs supported an arched ceiling high above, its details lost in deep shadow.
Further down the hall, the chamber opened into an even larger space, its full extent vast but difficult to quantify in the face of the bright haze of light that illuminated it. The light came from a bright globe dozens of paces across, a sphere of wavering and flickering chaos that was all too familiar to most of them; they had seen it once before in the second temple of Orcus high above. The source of the light was a vague point in the center of the globe, but none of them had to see it clearly to know what it was.
The Sphere of Souls.
But while the companions marked their goal, their attention was drawn to the entities that stood silhouetted against the bright chaos of the Sphere. Two were clerics, a man and woman, familiar if dangerous foes. They were clad in the heavy armor and black robes of the high clergy of the demon lord. The light of the Sphere played on their bald skulls, casting eerie reflections off the Abyssal runes etched deep into their flesh. Black energies surrounded them, protective wards that shielded them against the power of good and light.
The clerics flanked a monstrosity, a creature whose demonic nature was instantly evident. The being had a face and torso that were vaguely humanoid and feminine, but those features were attached to a serpentine body that extended for some twenty feet from the top of its head to the end of its tail. Six arms extended from its torso, each holding a slightly curving and viciously sharp sword with blades of black steel. Like the clerics a malevolent nimbus of darkness clung to it like a second skin, the chaotic surges of the unholy aura adding to the incredible impression of power and dread it made upon those beholding it.
“Oh, fricken crap,” Dar said under his breath.
The clerics’ robes were scorched from Varo’s flame strike, although the marilith, standing between them, was utterly unharmed. The fell priests had not been idle during the attack, however. As the companions stared in horror at what confronted them, each completed a spell. The male cleric swelled and grew as he drew upon the power of righteous might, while the female hurled an unholy blight into their midst, weakening them with angry pulses of corrupt energy.
The marilith extended a long, slender arm, holding a heavy sword out without apparent effort. The companions tensed, but the attack they expected came not directly at them, but at the confined space of the exit behind them. The demon’s power funneled into that gap, and the vicious blur of a blade barrier materialized there. Kalend, hovering in the rear of their group, was standing almost at the edges of the deadly barrier, and as the blades started to clip into his back the thief leapt forward, narrowly avoiding being cut into ribbons. With eyes wide, he stared back at the violent storm of death that now blocked their retreat.
Their only avenue of escape was now cut off.
Richard Rawen
First Post
amen brotherLazybones said:
Lazybones
Adventurer
Chapter 205
THE BATTLE FOR THE THIRD TEMPLE
The floor of the temple of Orcus was crafted of massive stone blocks that had been first set millennia past, but even those shook as the priest Wheraz charged. His righteous might spell had augmented his weight to over two thousand pounds, and the marilith’s unholy aura played about his body as he moved, giving him the look of an avenging spirit.
Talen glanced over at Dar, but the fighter was downing a potion, and was distracted for a critical moment. The knight stepped forward to meet the priest’s rush, summoning his will to protect him from whatever deadly trick the foe might attempt. “Stand fast, for Camar!” he yelled, his conviction and dedication to his cause infusing the rally cry with power that bolstered him and his companions against the dark energies of this place.
But the cleric eschewed subtlety for a straight out attack. With his physical prowess augmented by a bull’s strength on top of the effects of the righteous might, he struck with the force of a battering ram. Talen brought his shield up to deflect the blow from the cleric’s mace, but even so the force of the impact drove him back, and he cried out as his shoulder was dislocated from its socket. He spun around and might have fallen, had not Shay grabbed him and supported him for a critical instant.
“Spread out, flank him!” Talen cried, trying to ignore the white-hot stabbings of agony that radiated out from his savaged shoulder. Shay nodded and leapt forward, tumbling almost effortlessly around the cleric’s side to threaten his left side, behind the reach of his shield.
With Talen occupied by the hulking cleric, Dar found himself facing the marilith, which slid forward almost casually, the tips of its swords scraping nastily against the stone of the floor. A little voice that he hadn’t often heard whispered in the back of his mind, I’ve got to be smart, here.
The fighter roared and lowered his head as he charged forward. The marilith’s affected pose of indifference evaporated, and the six blades it carried came up into ready positions. The demon reared up to its full height, and Dar had to crane his neck to look up at its face; it had to be at least nine feet tall.
The fighter abruptly stopped, still a good twenty feet from the demon. He kept Valor down in his right hand while he lifted his right, and beckoned to the creature.
“Come on, bitch.”
The demon’s expression seemed amused, almost, as it slid forward to meet its foe. It fixed its stare on Dar, and the fighter shook his head, snarling.
“Get out of my mind...”
The attack came with incredible swiftness. One long arm shot out, the black blade darted inside Dar’s guard. He’d been expecting an attack, but as he swung Valor up to meet it the marilith twisted its wrist slightly, and it deflected his stroke with almost effortless aplomb. As Dar’s blade was knocked aside the demon followed with a thrust that clipped Dar’s helmet. The fighter staggered a step to the side; his helmet had withstood the blow, but he’d obviously felt the force of the impact regardless.
The demon let out a pleased noise, a hiss of pleasure at the pain experienced by its foe.
Dar felt a touch at his back. “Be strong,” Allera said, as she cast one of her few remaining healing spells into him, easing his wounds and bringing him back to full strength.
“Right,” the fighter said. He lunged forward, stepping into the marilith’s reach to unleash a full attack with both fists clenched tight around the hilt of Valor.
The blade flashed blue up its length as it clove into the marilith’s sinuous body. The creature’s earlier delight was banished, replaced by an angry hiss of cold fury as the fighter’s axiomatic blade tore deep gashes in its body. The marilith drew back a step, and Dar moved to follow, bringing his sword, trailing black ichor, up to strike again.
“Dar, no!” Allera cried, recognizing the trap too late as the demon’s six blades came up around its body like a halo.
Talen’s shield dropped as his dislocated shoulder sent waves of agony through his body. But Beatus Incendia flared like a small sun in his other hand as he stepped forward and smote the cleric with the holy blade. His first swing crunched through the thick armor plate protecting his left thigh, cutting deep into the leg beneath. The cleric merely grunted and shifted his weight, lifting his mace to strike again, but before he could execute the attack Talen brought his sword up into the man’s gut. Again steel gave way before steel, and a cascade of bright red blood erupted from the gaping wound. The cleric was hurting now, but while a normal man would have likely collapsed already from the pain, the evil priest’s fanatic expression only twisted a shade deeper toward madness, and he pressed his assault.
Shay had taken up position behind the cleric, but she found herself unable to assist her lover. As she came around the enlarged priest, she found herself facing the slight figure of the female cleric. The woman’s mace was at her side, and Shay knew enough to realize that this meant trouble.
“Embrace the touch of the True God!” the woman hissed, darting forward with surprising alacrity despite the heavy metal armor she wore. Shaylara twisted to the side, but before she could extract herself she felt a soft touch on her arm as the cleric’s fingers brushed her. That light contact was enough for the cleric’s slay living spell to course into the scout. Shay’s jaw clenched tight enough to start it bleeding as she fought the waves of agony that spread up the arm into her body. For a moment her heart skipped a beat, two, three... but then the deadly effects of the spell passed, and she fell back, damaged but alive.
“Your will is strong, but it will not save you,” the woman said, following after her. Shay felt a cold chill hammer at her as Talen screamed, and she looked over her shoulder to see Wheraz smash his mace down into Talen again. The knight had brought his shield up, somehow, but the impact was hard enough to drive him down to his knees. The cleric’s robes were stained crimson from his waist down as his blood continued to course out of the deep wound in his gut, but he seemed impervious to mere pain, and he lifted his mace again to deliver a final blow.
Shay’s foe was quick to exploit the distraction, lunging forward to deliver another touch attack. Gernaldra’s fingers began to glow red as she reached for the scout’s throat, but before she could strike, Shay leapt to the side. This time the cleric could not adjust in time, and as she darted past Shay shot a booted foot down into the joint of the cleric’s right knee. The woman cried out as the knee buckled, and she plummeted forward to fall hard on her face, grunting as the wind was knocked out of her.
Shay landed in a crouch and shot up, driving her sword into the cleric’s side. The keen elvish blade bit through the man’s armor, but his spell had augmented his stamina beyond that of a normal man, and while Shay saw blood running down the runnel of her blade, she knew that her hit had not been enough to stop him.
No! she mouthed, as his mace came crashing down.
Dar swept Valor up in a rapid sweep, deflecting a sword that would have bisected his neck had it struck. He tried to pivot to meet the marilith’s second strike, but the creature’s swords were a blur of steel around him, and no mere mortal reflexes could withstand that assault. His armor held as a sword smashed hard into his side, and again as a sword crushed his hip, but both hits were telling even without lethal penetration. He tried to bring up Valor for one last thrust, but a sword caught him on the bracer, crushing the bone beneath, and the sword fell clattering out of his hands.
He looked up, and saw the feral look in the demon’s eyes, a moment before it brought down another sword, and took his right arm off at the shoulder.
THE BATTLE FOR THE THIRD TEMPLE
The floor of the temple of Orcus was crafted of massive stone blocks that had been first set millennia past, but even those shook as the priest Wheraz charged. His righteous might spell had augmented his weight to over two thousand pounds, and the marilith’s unholy aura played about his body as he moved, giving him the look of an avenging spirit.
Talen glanced over at Dar, but the fighter was downing a potion, and was distracted for a critical moment. The knight stepped forward to meet the priest’s rush, summoning his will to protect him from whatever deadly trick the foe might attempt. “Stand fast, for Camar!” he yelled, his conviction and dedication to his cause infusing the rally cry with power that bolstered him and his companions against the dark energies of this place.
But the cleric eschewed subtlety for a straight out attack. With his physical prowess augmented by a bull’s strength on top of the effects of the righteous might, he struck with the force of a battering ram. Talen brought his shield up to deflect the blow from the cleric’s mace, but even so the force of the impact drove him back, and he cried out as his shoulder was dislocated from its socket. He spun around and might have fallen, had not Shay grabbed him and supported him for a critical instant.
“Spread out, flank him!” Talen cried, trying to ignore the white-hot stabbings of agony that radiated out from his savaged shoulder. Shay nodded and leapt forward, tumbling almost effortlessly around the cleric’s side to threaten his left side, behind the reach of his shield.
With Talen occupied by the hulking cleric, Dar found himself facing the marilith, which slid forward almost casually, the tips of its swords scraping nastily against the stone of the floor. A little voice that he hadn’t often heard whispered in the back of his mind, I’ve got to be smart, here.
The fighter roared and lowered his head as he charged forward. The marilith’s affected pose of indifference evaporated, and the six blades it carried came up into ready positions. The demon reared up to its full height, and Dar had to crane his neck to look up at its face; it had to be at least nine feet tall.
The fighter abruptly stopped, still a good twenty feet from the demon. He kept Valor down in his right hand while he lifted his right, and beckoned to the creature.
“Come on, bitch.”
The demon’s expression seemed amused, almost, as it slid forward to meet its foe. It fixed its stare on Dar, and the fighter shook his head, snarling.
“Get out of my mind...”
The attack came with incredible swiftness. One long arm shot out, the black blade darted inside Dar’s guard. He’d been expecting an attack, but as he swung Valor up to meet it the marilith twisted its wrist slightly, and it deflected his stroke with almost effortless aplomb. As Dar’s blade was knocked aside the demon followed with a thrust that clipped Dar’s helmet. The fighter staggered a step to the side; his helmet had withstood the blow, but he’d obviously felt the force of the impact regardless.
The demon let out a pleased noise, a hiss of pleasure at the pain experienced by its foe.
Dar felt a touch at his back. “Be strong,” Allera said, as she cast one of her few remaining healing spells into him, easing his wounds and bringing him back to full strength.
“Right,” the fighter said. He lunged forward, stepping into the marilith’s reach to unleash a full attack with both fists clenched tight around the hilt of Valor.
The blade flashed blue up its length as it clove into the marilith’s sinuous body. The creature’s earlier delight was banished, replaced by an angry hiss of cold fury as the fighter’s axiomatic blade tore deep gashes in its body. The marilith drew back a step, and Dar moved to follow, bringing his sword, trailing black ichor, up to strike again.
“Dar, no!” Allera cried, recognizing the trap too late as the demon’s six blades came up around its body like a halo.
Talen’s shield dropped as his dislocated shoulder sent waves of agony through his body. But Beatus Incendia flared like a small sun in his other hand as he stepped forward and smote the cleric with the holy blade. His first swing crunched through the thick armor plate protecting his left thigh, cutting deep into the leg beneath. The cleric merely grunted and shifted his weight, lifting his mace to strike again, but before he could execute the attack Talen brought his sword up into the man’s gut. Again steel gave way before steel, and a cascade of bright red blood erupted from the gaping wound. The cleric was hurting now, but while a normal man would have likely collapsed already from the pain, the evil priest’s fanatic expression only twisted a shade deeper toward madness, and he pressed his assault.
Shay had taken up position behind the cleric, but she found herself unable to assist her lover. As she came around the enlarged priest, she found herself facing the slight figure of the female cleric. The woman’s mace was at her side, and Shay knew enough to realize that this meant trouble.
“Embrace the touch of the True God!” the woman hissed, darting forward with surprising alacrity despite the heavy metal armor she wore. Shaylara twisted to the side, but before she could extract herself she felt a soft touch on her arm as the cleric’s fingers brushed her. That light contact was enough for the cleric’s slay living spell to course into the scout. Shay’s jaw clenched tight enough to start it bleeding as she fought the waves of agony that spread up the arm into her body. For a moment her heart skipped a beat, two, three... but then the deadly effects of the spell passed, and she fell back, damaged but alive.
“Your will is strong, but it will not save you,” the woman said, following after her. Shay felt a cold chill hammer at her as Talen screamed, and she looked over her shoulder to see Wheraz smash his mace down into Talen again. The knight had brought his shield up, somehow, but the impact was hard enough to drive him down to his knees. The cleric’s robes were stained crimson from his waist down as his blood continued to course out of the deep wound in his gut, but he seemed impervious to mere pain, and he lifted his mace again to deliver a final blow.
Shay’s foe was quick to exploit the distraction, lunging forward to deliver another touch attack. Gernaldra’s fingers began to glow red as she reached for the scout’s throat, but before she could strike, Shay leapt to the side. This time the cleric could not adjust in time, and as she darted past Shay shot a booted foot down into the joint of the cleric’s right knee. The woman cried out as the knee buckled, and she plummeted forward to fall hard on her face, grunting as the wind was knocked out of her.
Shay landed in a crouch and shot up, driving her sword into the cleric’s side. The keen elvish blade bit through the man’s armor, but his spell had augmented his stamina beyond that of a normal man, and while Shay saw blood running down the runnel of her blade, she knew that her hit had not been enough to stop him.
No! she mouthed, as his mace came crashing down.
Dar swept Valor up in a rapid sweep, deflecting a sword that would have bisected his neck had it struck. He tried to pivot to meet the marilith’s second strike, but the creature’s swords were a blur of steel around him, and no mere mortal reflexes could withstand that assault. His armor held as a sword smashed hard into his side, and again as a sword crushed his hip, but both hits were telling even without lethal penetration. He tried to bring up Valor for one last thrust, but a sword caught him on the bracer, crushing the bone beneath, and the sword fell clattering out of his hands.
He looked up, and saw the feral look in the demon’s eyes, a moment before it brought down another sword, and took his right arm off at the shoulder.
Nightbreeze
First Post
Ouch....lately Dar has been something like a puppet...server the hand, attach it again...sever the leg, attach it againt...whao, look, it broke again 
Just caught up, never read any of your stuff before; generally don't read fantasy fiction- the action is fantastic-
Partially because it's D&D, the game I've played off-and-on for the last 28 years,
Partially because it's Rappan and I've always wanted to find a group of players to put through that grinder- alas nobody has characters that want to die, again and again and again- nor do they want to be stuck in the same dungeon for a year or more, we only get to play once every 2-3 weeks,
Partially because the characters are well developed, in places their stories sing, and suggest other, much bigger things- motivations, hidden agendas, love, loss, and longing- raw emotion. Of course there are bits that are a little stereotypical, but in that respect it's a lot like life, and the fantasy novels I read in my youth.
But mostly because you know when to stop, and when to start, when to leave your reader wanting more, to find out what happens next, like the Saturday morning cinema when I was a kid- will Flash Gordon survive the attack of the Mudmen, of course he will but I'm not moving from this spot till I know for sure. It's fast paced action, with spectacle spells and attacks- that the D&D'ers can imagine, littered with 'just in the nick of time moments', and of course the throw away one-liner's that burst the bubble, with a grin, at the end of each instalment.
It's crackerjack, it's taken me a month of snatched moments to get here, and it was worth every effort- soul food and junk food for the Gamer brain.
Thanks for everything, oh, and keep it up.
My own poor scribblings are also available in this place, "The Lost Boys vs. The Sunless Citadel", http://www.enworld.org/showthread.php?t=196972
an effort to convert four sons of friends onto the 'true path' (D&D- you had to ask?), with humour- I'd appreciate any feedback.
Thanks again.
Partially because it's D&D, the game I've played off-and-on for the last 28 years,
Partially because it's Rappan and I've always wanted to find a group of players to put through that grinder- alas nobody has characters that want to die, again and again and again- nor do they want to be stuck in the same dungeon for a year or more, we only get to play once every 2-3 weeks,
Partially because the characters are well developed, in places their stories sing, and suggest other, much bigger things- motivations, hidden agendas, love, loss, and longing- raw emotion. Of course there are bits that are a little stereotypical, but in that respect it's a lot like life, and the fantasy novels I read in my youth.
But mostly because you know when to stop, and when to start, when to leave your reader wanting more, to find out what happens next, like the Saturday morning cinema when I was a kid- will Flash Gordon survive the attack of the Mudmen, of course he will but I'm not moving from this spot till I know for sure. It's fast paced action, with spectacle spells and attacks- that the D&D'ers can imagine, littered with 'just in the nick of time moments', and of course the throw away one-liner's that burst the bubble, with a grin, at the end of each instalment.
It's crackerjack, it's taken me a month of snatched moments to get here, and it was worth every effort- soul food and junk food for the Gamer brain.
Thanks for everything, oh, and keep it up.
My own poor scribblings are also available in this place, "The Lost Boys vs. The Sunless Citadel", http://www.enworld.org/showthread.php?t=196972
an effort to convert four sons of friends onto the 'true path' (D&D- you had to ask?), with humour- I'd appreciate any feedback.
Thanks again.
Lazybones
Adventurer
You're welcome, and thank you for the kind comments.Goonalan said:
We're about to hit the end of book 3 of the story. I am still well ahead, and in fact just started book 5 today. I am still following the module for the most part, but have been threading in some more external elements (such as with the Duke in book 2), to keep the story from getting too stale with the constant dungeon crawling. There are going to be some big changes coming up for our doomed heroes (including some alterations to the roster), and while I have an eventual destination in mind, there are some things that even I don't know about the ending, yet.
Thanks to everyone who has posted and stuck with this story. I hope that the ride continues to entertain.
* * * * *
Chapter 206
OUCH
“Dar!”
Allera rushed forward as Dar collapsed, blood pouring in a fountain from the stump where his arm had been. The fighter was already unconscious when Allera reached him, and she did not look up at the demon that loomed over them as she clutched him against her, oblivious to the blood that seeped into her clothes. She just held him, pouring healing into his body to stop the flow of life escaping from the wound. She knew it was futile, knew that the demon would kill both of them, but she could do nothing else.
But the killing blow never came. Allera heard a hissing noise, a furious shriek of protest that died suddenly, and as she looked up she was surprised to see...
Nothing.
Varo grimaced. He had carefully hoarded his banishment spell through all of the earlier battles that day, refusing to tap its energy for an inflict wounds spell despite the dire circumstances. But his divination spell that morning had been clear, at least as he had interpreted it, about a rematch with the powerful greater demon that had taken the Sphere of Souls in their last encounter.
He had held out a hope, foolish and fleeting that it had proven, that Dar could have somehow taken out the marilith. But even as he watched that hope cut asunder by the demon’s deadly blades, Varo had summoned his magic, brandishing the items of power that he had collected for this purpose. The sigil of his faith. A small knife of cold iron. Holy water. Serah’s divine focus, still smeared with traces of the dead cleric’s blood.
Focused by Varo’s will, the banishment spell had penetrated the demon’s spell resistance, and hurled it violently back into the Abyss. He had saved Dar and Allera, but now, at least as far as the greater demon was concerned, he was effectively unarmed.
Talen tried to regain his footing, to meet death on his feet, but his legs failed to obey his commands. It was all he could do to keep from tumbling over onto his back. He saw the heavy mace, its enlarged head the size of a melon, coming down straight toward his head. He could not lift his shield again; the entire left side of his body had gone numb.
But just before the seemingly inevitable impact, the deadly head of the mace jerked to the side. The blow still hit Talen, but it was just a glancing strike, bouncing harmlessly off his breastplate without inflicting further damage. Talen watched in surprise as the cleric staggered a pace to his right. He didn’t realize what had happened until the cleric dropped his mace, and lifted his hand to his throat. Only then did he see the feathers of the arrow jutting from just under the lip of the man’s gorget.
The cleric crumpled, his body already beginning to return to its original size as his magic fled in company with his life.
Shay screamed as white hot knives of pain exploded through her leg. She looked down to see the woman cleric clutching her ankle, the red glow fading from her fingers as the inflict wounds spell dissipated into her body. Already injured from the failed slay living spell, the inflict critical wounds thrust her closer to the point where the cleric’s nasty death touch power could push her the rest of the way over the edge.
But Gernaldra had another target in mind. As Wheraz collapsed, the woman cleric’s lips drew back in a snarl, and she focused her gaze on Talen as she drew herself up to her feet.
She managed about three steps before Shay slammed into her. The scout and cleric both screamed, feral cries as they grappled violently, the cleric trying to break free, the scout trying to hold onto her. Gernaldra was stronger, even without her bull’s strength spell, and after just a few moments, she ripped her arm free, and backhanded Shaylara across the face. The blow was backed by the force of another inflict wounds spell, and Shay fell, dazed.
Gernaldra turned back toward Talen, only to find the knight right in front of her, his sword blazing in his hand. The priestess lunged at him, but he was ready, and he met her surge with three feet of blessed steel that parted the overlapping plates covering her torso and thrust deep into her body.
The priestess looked down at the holy sword impaling her. She reached out at Talen, who grunted and thrust five more inches of Beatus Incendia into her body. Her hand brushed his as it fell, but there was no power there, only a fading warmth that died completely as the woman slid off his blade.
The cleric’s death left the chamber quiet once more, the only other presence the globe of shifting colors that surrounded the Sphere of Souls.
Talen walked—or more precisely, hobbled—over to Shay, but the scout was already recovering, and was on her feet by the time that Talen got to her. “Are you all right?” the scout asked him.
“Been better,” the knight said, grimacing. He turned so that his shield arm was facing her. “I need you to pull it back into its socket.”
Shay nodded, and took hold of his arm. “Ready?” At Talen’s nod, she pulled, and Talen let out a groan as the limb settled back into its proper socket. Shay helped him dig a healing potion out of his pouch, uncorking the tiny vial before handing it back to him to consume.
Allera had brought Dar back to consciousness, but there was nothing she could do for his missing arm, at least not immediately. The fighter looked down at his severed limb, and then stood, with the healer supporting him. He did not speak, but bent down to recover his sword, a dark look on his face.
“We must destroy the Sphere,” Varo said. Behind him, Kalend stood with an arrow nocked, his eyes darting from shadow to shadow.
Wary, the companions moved forward. As they entered the vast open space of the chamber beyond the entry hall, the shifting globe of light radiating from the Sphere made it difficult to make out details. The chamber contained four huge pillars of bronze that were each a good four or five paces in diameter, rising up into the haze above. There were subtle cracks visible in the stone around the perimeter of the room, a suggestion that the recent earth tremors had affected this place deep under the surface of the world.
“Can’t we just shoot it from here?” Kalend suggested.
“I suspect it will take Talen’s blade,” Varo said, but he seemed distracted, staring at the shifting wall of colors and light.
“Hell, give it a shot,” Dar said. “I don’t know about the rest of you lot, but know I don’t want to go in there.”
Kalend lifted his bow, but before he could aim and fire, a form took on substance within the chaos aura, a huge black shadow that took on solidity as it approached them.
Decay hung about it like a cloak. Nine feet of emaciated flesh drawn tight over bone. Broad wings trailing strips of rotting hide spreading out from its back. Glowing eyes deep within a horned skull, a penetrating stare of sheer malevolent power. It was chaos. It was evil. It was power. It was all of those things and more, an embodiment of the dark essence of the Abyss.
Maphistal had arrived.
Nightbreeze
First Post
Change on the rooster? Hmm....shall I take it as a menace for Varo, Dar or Allera (the others, feel free to kill 
)
)
Lazybones
Adventurer
Chapter 207
THE END OF THE END
“Strike at the—” Varo yelled, but his order was cut short as the demon’s feral gaze shifted upon him, and it smote him with a power word. The demon’s power smashed through the mental defenses of the cleric like a brick hurled through a glass window, and Varo crumpled, stunned.
Without exchanging words or looks, Dar and Talen moved together as one, lifting their weapons as they charged the demon. Each sword had been crafted to slay creatures such as this, and the blades hummed with magical power. Shay started to swing around Talen’s flank, to threaten and distract the monster from its rear, but Talen cut her off. “Get the Sphere!” he yelled, gesturing with the tip of his sword.
Shay hesitated only an instant, but in that blink of a moment a lot happened.
The demon carried a terrible weapon, a huge, nasty war mace with flanges of black steel. The length of the weapon and the demon’s own size gave it superior reach, and as Talen rushed forward to assault it with Beatus Incendia, it snapped the weapon down into the onrushing knight before he could get close enough to strike.
Talen was caught off guard by the demon’s speed. He tried to bring up his shield, but the mace sliced past the upper edge of the barrier, and crushed into Talen’s helm. The helmet crumpled like paper, and the unholy mace pulverized the bone and flesh beneath it, crushing Talen’s skull like an egg.
Dar roared and laid into Maphistal with Valor, swiping the axiomatic blade across the demon’s torso. His stroke bit into its flesh, but the rotting flesh of its body was far tougher than it looked, and the wound inflicted was trivial, at best. The demon was possessed of an incredible stamina that belied its unwholesome appearance.
Allera rushed over to Talen, but one look was enough to tell her that there was nothing that could be done for him.
Shay looked down at her chest. Gobs of blood and tiny bits of gray matter were splattered across her armor; the demon’s blow had impacted with enough force to squirt out little bits of Talen’s brains out from under the edges of his helmet. The scout looked down at the corpse of her beloved, and just... snapped. She hurled herself at the demon, her sword slashing out wildly as she hacked at it. The demon barely acknowledged her, and her attack had no effect upon it at all.
Kalend’s hands shook wildly as he lifted his bow, and he could feel a chill trickle down his leg as he voided his bladder. For a moment he pointed his arrow at the demon, but then the sheer insanity of it made him hold his shot. Varo’s words echoed through his head, and he shifted his target, trying to pick out the Sphere of Souls from within the globe of chaos.
He fired, but his shot came nowhere close to the scintillating orb.
The demon fixed its gaze upon Varo, still helpless from the power word. It stepped forward, ignoring the enemies still attacking. Dar let out a feral growl and lifted Valor for an all-out attack.
Before he could strike, the demon spoke another word, a twisted syllable of blasphemy.
The demon’s power was far stronger than that of the priest Theron, and the impact of Maphistal’s utterance was devastating. Dar, Allera, and Shay collapsed, overcome. Kalend was struck dead on the spot, and almost at once the gray substance of his soul seeped out of his body and was drawn into the chaotic surge of power that surrounded the Sphere of Souls. Only Varo was not affected, but his mind was still clouded by the power word, and while he was aware of the demon, he could do nothing at all as the demon approached him. It spoke, the words forming deep within its skull, echoing within the minds of those gathered.
“You will be the final key in the Ritual, Licinius Varo. I had hoped for a high priest of the Father, but the Creeper’s champion will do... perhaps in conjunction with this one.” It reached down, and picked up Allera’s limp form in one huge claw. The healer let out a pathetic whimper, but could not otherwise react, her muscles paralyzed by its blasphemy.
“You have failed, heroes of this world. The time has come. The hour of the Master’s coming has arrived. Know in your last instants of life, that your souls are the mechanism by which your world shall be brought to an end.”
The demon laughed, a terrible sound that echoed through the vast confines of the chamber. The light of the Sphere seemed to pulse in tune to that sound, and currents of power flickered through the chamber, hammering at the senses of the Doomed Bastards of Rappan Athuk.
THE END OF THE END
“Strike at the—” Varo yelled, but his order was cut short as the demon’s feral gaze shifted upon him, and it smote him with a power word. The demon’s power smashed through the mental defenses of the cleric like a brick hurled through a glass window, and Varo crumpled, stunned.
Without exchanging words or looks, Dar and Talen moved together as one, lifting their weapons as they charged the demon. Each sword had been crafted to slay creatures such as this, and the blades hummed with magical power. Shay started to swing around Talen’s flank, to threaten and distract the monster from its rear, but Talen cut her off. “Get the Sphere!” he yelled, gesturing with the tip of his sword.
Shay hesitated only an instant, but in that blink of a moment a lot happened.
The demon carried a terrible weapon, a huge, nasty war mace with flanges of black steel. The length of the weapon and the demon’s own size gave it superior reach, and as Talen rushed forward to assault it with Beatus Incendia, it snapped the weapon down into the onrushing knight before he could get close enough to strike.
Talen was caught off guard by the demon’s speed. He tried to bring up his shield, but the mace sliced past the upper edge of the barrier, and crushed into Talen’s helm. The helmet crumpled like paper, and the unholy mace pulverized the bone and flesh beneath it, crushing Talen’s skull like an egg.
Dar roared and laid into Maphistal with Valor, swiping the axiomatic blade across the demon’s torso. His stroke bit into its flesh, but the rotting flesh of its body was far tougher than it looked, and the wound inflicted was trivial, at best. The demon was possessed of an incredible stamina that belied its unwholesome appearance.
Allera rushed over to Talen, but one look was enough to tell her that there was nothing that could be done for him.
Shay looked down at her chest. Gobs of blood and tiny bits of gray matter were splattered across her armor; the demon’s blow had impacted with enough force to squirt out little bits of Talen’s brains out from under the edges of his helmet. The scout looked down at the corpse of her beloved, and just... snapped. She hurled herself at the demon, her sword slashing out wildly as she hacked at it. The demon barely acknowledged her, and her attack had no effect upon it at all.
Kalend’s hands shook wildly as he lifted his bow, and he could feel a chill trickle down his leg as he voided his bladder. For a moment he pointed his arrow at the demon, but then the sheer insanity of it made him hold his shot. Varo’s words echoed through his head, and he shifted his target, trying to pick out the Sphere of Souls from within the globe of chaos.
He fired, but his shot came nowhere close to the scintillating orb.
The demon fixed its gaze upon Varo, still helpless from the power word. It stepped forward, ignoring the enemies still attacking. Dar let out a feral growl and lifted Valor for an all-out attack.
Before he could strike, the demon spoke another word, a twisted syllable of blasphemy.
The demon’s power was far stronger than that of the priest Theron, and the impact of Maphistal’s utterance was devastating. Dar, Allera, and Shay collapsed, overcome. Kalend was struck dead on the spot, and almost at once the gray substance of his soul seeped out of his body and was drawn into the chaotic surge of power that surrounded the Sphere of Souls. Only Varo was not affected, but his mind was still clouded by the power word, and while he was aware of the demon, he could do nothing at all as the demon approached him. It spoke, the words forming deep within its skull, echoing within the minds of those gathered.
“You will be the final key in the Ritual, Licinius Varo. I had hoped for a high priest of the Father, but the Creeper’s champion will do... perhaps in conjunction with this one.” It reached down, and picked up Allera’s limp form in one huge claw. The healer let out a pathetic whimper, but could not otherwise react, her muscles paralyzed by its blasphemy.
“You have failed, heroes of this world. The time has come. The hour of the Master’s coming has arrived. Know in your last instants of life, that your souls are the mechanism by which your world shall be brought to an end.”
The demon laughed, a terrible sound that echoed through the vast confines of the chamber. The light of the Sphere seemed to pulse in tune to that sound, and currents of power flickered through the chamber, hammering at the senses of the Doomed Bastards of Rappan Athuk.
CrusadeDave
First Post
Tpk
Mmmmmmmm... Yummmy
Mmmmmmmm... Yummmy
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