by Jeff Inlo
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Ryson stood unyielding between the immense shag in front of him and the old man behind him. His eyes sharpened with a new found confidence. He now knew exactly what Sazar hoped to accomplish, but he also knew exactly what to do to stop the serp. The sword had given him the gift of insight as it had done in the past. There was no longer any question over what he could truly accomplish, how many innocents he could still save, or how he might be able to upset the serp’s plans. His mind held a simple truth of how to stop Sazar from gaining control of Pinesway—now or in the future. He grasped the power to do so in his hands and his body held the capacity in the abilities of being a purebred delver.
Ryson called back to the old man behind him. “Back away quickly.”
Joel Portsmith didn’t need to hear a second request. He gladly complied immediately and began back pedaling to the alley from which he came.
Ryson readied himself for the charge of the shag, believing the monster would move once the old man began to retreat. Movement from the shag, however, was slow in coming. It appeared almost distracted, its eyes nearly vacant. Eventually, it did move, but not in the direction Ryson expected. The beast turned quickly and retraced its previous path in the opposite direction.
Ryson held firm until certain the shag was indeed in full retreat. He then turned quickly to the old man. “Get back in the alley. Stay under cover.”
The delver scanned the area quickly registering goblin positions and their apparent readiness to move forward. To his delight, this particular area remained empty of any immediate threats, but even in the fading daylight he could make out dozens of the dark creatures assembling together to the north and south. He darted into the alley to join the old man.
Ryson sized Joel up quickly and for the most part liked what he saw. While the strain of this day’s events obviously took their toll, the man appeared unhurt and in control of his senses. Considering the magnitude of these events, that in itself was a huge credit to the man’s inner strength. He was armed with a crossbow, but Ryson now knew the weapon was no longer necessary.
“My name is Ryson Acumen. I’m a delver from Burbon.”
“Figured you to be a delver,” the old man said with a very small hint of animosity.
Ryson ignored the tone. “You alone?”
“I’m traveling alone, if that’s what you mean.”
“But you’ve come across others.”
“’Course I have.”
“Mostly in the center of town?”
“Yep.”
“And where were you headed?”
Joel pointed over Ryson’s shoulder back to the goblin line. “That way... was heading home.”
“That will have to wait.” Ryson stated firmly.
Joel’s eyes narrowed and Ryson knew the man didn’t like taking orders, so the delver spelled the situation out for him.
“You’ll get home, alive and in one piece, if you wait. If you go now, the goblins will cut you down. There’s a serp that’s directing all of this. He’s going to reinforce the line where the shag retreated.”
Joel grunted in annoyance.
Ryson didn’t wait for him to complain. “You can still get there, you just have to have a bit of patience. I also want you to do something for me. I don’t think you’ll argue too much seeing I just saved your life.” Here, Ryson played on a hunch, a hunch that honor meant something to this man.
Joel nodded unhappily, but nodded just the same. “What do you need?”
“I want you to return to the people you passed,” Ryson stated simply. “Don’t take any risks, don’t endanger yourself. Just go back to the center of town, it’s safer there anyway. Tell everyone you meet to find cover and stay put. I’m going to take care of the goblin problem.”
Joel appeared only mildly surprised, but questioned the delver anyway.
“Just you?”
“Just me.”
“How?”
“Fear.”
Joel eyed the delver and the shining sword that he grasped. He could not find it in himself to argue.
“Ok, I’ll go back and tell everyone help is on the way and to stay out of sight. Getting dark now anyway, probably too dangerous to do anything else. You’ll let us know when you’re done doing whatever it is you’re going to do?”
“I’ll meet you at the town square.”
Joel looked to the ground, spit off to the side, took a heavy breath, and simply turned around. He moved down the alley at a cautious steady pace, acknowledging this turn of events with sullen acceptance.
Ryson believed the man would not go back on his word, and thus quickly turned his attention to the goblins. The Sword of Decree shone brighter now as the light of dusk faded away into twilight. He held a beacon to the goblins that stood off in the distance, a target, but it would not matter. He would move at a speed that was beyond their comprehension.
He quickly eyed the growing number of dark creatures in the distance. Ryson reviewed in his mind what he now knew to be the serp’s forces. “Only goblins in this area to deal with, but there’s a hook hawk, a rock beetle, and at least two shags to worry about as well. Shags shouldn’t be too much of a problem, the big one is probably back with Sazar. The hawk just ate and is more a reconnaissance tool than anything else. The beetle could be a danger, just have to keep an eye on the ground so I don’t trip. Sazar did me a favor keeping the goblins in this formation. All I have to do is circle the city in expanding rings working outward. Eventually, I’ll clear them all out.”
Ryson targeted the closest group of goblins which stood one block to the northeast. He would hit them first. Ryson now better understood Sazar’s power over these creatures. He knew the serp kept them confused and fearful. The serp did not cast spells to influence his minions, but the magical energies that flowed through the air allowed him to press his will upon them. Once Sazar took hold of their minds, he used the magic and their own emotions to keep their individual will in check.
The delver had enough contact with goblins to understand their minds as well. Individually, they were weak and vulnerable, but as a horde they represented a threat to even the largest beasts. The serp used this natural tendency to belong to a horde along with the goblins weak will to maintain control over a large number. That control, however, would last only as long as the goblins’ individual instinct for survival did not interfere with the serp’s commands. It was this weakness that Ryson intended to exploit. The serp used fear to keep the goblins in check, but a creature of this character could learn to fear many things. If a new fear became larger than the goblin’s fear of the serp, then all bets were off.
Ryson switched his grip of the Sword of Decree to one hand and held the point out in front of him. The natural starlight around him magnified a hundred fold and he knew he was now visible for great distances. It would draw crossbow fire almost immediately, so he moved with greater swiftness.
Like a meteor streaking through the night sky, a ball of light advanced on the goblins. They stood dumbfounded at the scene, totally unable to comprehend who or even what was headed straight for them. A few found the courage to lift a crossbow to fire, but none accomplished firing off a single shot.
The Sword of Decree spun like a flaming pinwheel in Ryson’s hand. He darted from one goblin to the next in a blur of motion. He stabbed with his sword, but not at vital organs and not with deep thrusts. He forced the blade forward just enough to cut through the swollen rubbery goblin skin at a shoulder, an arm, or an upper leg. When the point of the sword made contact, it burned. Such was the power of the Sword of Decree. It was forged with magic to fight off the shadow trees, and within its blade it had the power to burn souls, even the damned souls of twisted creatures such as goblins.
When these goblins felt the burning pain that went deep beyond the wound, they gained a new fear, a great fear. Their thoughts of Sazar dissipated like droplets of water thrown on a blazing inferno. They howled and cowered, most dropping to the ground in twisted,
painful terror. So great was their fear, they could not find the strength to run. Ryson decided to give them the incentive to do so.
When Ryson wounded all he saw, he yelled out like a raving mad man. “This town holds your ruin just as I now hold your souls in this sword. I can make them burn! Leave this place and never return. Leave now and tell all others of your kind what you have felt here in Pinesway! This town is a curse to you and all that enter will die painfully!”
The goblins of this pack needed no further encouragement.