Ethria- the Pioneer

by Aaron Holloway

  “Alright! I was not suggesting I would renege on our agreement. Release my son.” More shuffling of feet and a sigh of relief from something not human. “I will have my shamans open the portals from our end. Have the high shaman begin the ritual of opening in five minutes. I will personally lead the assault from the lower levels of your home, into the enemy's rear.” I continued listening at the door, but there was nothing else I could make out.

  When I heard the beginnings of the chanting of a spell I did not recognize, I backed away. “They’re connecting the portals now. We need to stop them.” I said.

  “Agreed. Shock and awe them, yes?” Traser asked.

  I nodded. “Yes! Let's give them hell boys.”

  Tol’geth stepped ahead of us all holding out his hands to get our attention. “I will be in front. I will kill the witch woman. None of you are a match for her, not even close. Not a necromancer who has fed off of such pain and suffering as I have seen here.” Tol’geth looked down at his weapon, and it pulsed red, green, white, yellow, purple, and a number of other colors I’m sure are listed somewhere in a floral catalog, but whose names I have never and probably will never know.

  “Wow, that's a lot of buffs,” Ailsa said as she sat on my shoulder swinging her legs almost childishly.

  When the light show was finished, Tol’geth looked more menacing, more powerful, and his muscles bulged from every part of his body, straining his clothes and the boots on his feet almost to their breaking point. Energy poured from his eyes, and rage emanated from the man in nearly physical waves.

  “By my ancestors, this witch will die and justice will be done, or my own blood will be spilt to its final accounting! So swear I, Tol’geth, blooded warrior of Barisel!” With that, something else happened to him. His skin took on an otherworldly sheen. It was the same color, but something washed over it, coating his body from head to toe almost like olive oil on the surface of a frying pan.

  Tol’geth stood tall, lifted one leg in front of him before the door and shouted: “Follow me!” With one powerful kick from his bulging legs, the door splintered into a thousand shards that shot out into the room beyond like shrapnel. The handful of skeletal warriors that had been standing in front of the double doors on the opposite side from us as guards, disintegrated under the force of the splintered wood fragments.

  Light flooded the dimly lit hallway, and the room beyond was lay bare before us. It was nearly thirty feet from right to left, with a fifteen-foot ceiling, all uncut stone. The floor was uneven and rough-hewn, save for the area just before the platform the alter rested upon. It was lit by two green fire brazier on either side of the room, that cast dancing shadows on the walls.

  Three steps lead to the top of that platform, on those steps stood two creatures. The first was human, half consumed by the black latex substance, his expression was one of pure, intelligent, insanity. The half-consumed man threatened us with a sword in his uncovered still human-like hand, while the other protected its half-human face from the shrapnel from the exploding door.

  The other creatures was a squat hobgoblin, barely taller than its goblin kin, who wore a yellow and purple shawl around its shoulders, and carried a long staff nearly as tall as itself. At the top of the creatures staff rested a massive yellow crystal, like the amber ones embedded in mine, but nearly as large as all of the stones that now burned with eternal fire combined. As I examined the creature closely, I noticed distinct feminine features, Is that a goblin female shaman? No, hobgoblin female. Probably the head shaman the chieftain had talked about. The female shaman raised her hands into the air and summoned a shield around herself and the others on the platform, that the wooden and metal shards simply bounced off.

  A tall thin, lithe feminine figure stood before the altar, a goblin lay atop it, his arms bound and his mouth gagged with thick leather cord. The woman wore black robes that brushed against the floor. Her hood was up, and back turned away from me as I stepped over the wreckage of our entry. Her hands raised in the air together clutching the sacrificial dagger that had claimed many innocent lives, poised to make the goblin its next sacrifice.

  Tol’geth charged straight at the altar, sword held high above his head, battle cry bellowing forth from his throat. A red haze filled the eyes of both the enemies that threatened us, turning towards the barbarian warrior and leaving them open to attack.

  I raised my staff and blasted the shamans shield with a constant stream of fire, the last Jet of Flame spell that I could cast directly from my staff today. Once the spell was going, I activated a few dozen of the spells I had saved in my staff, and a steady stream of rapid-fire force bolts slammed into the hobgoblins shield accompanying the steady stream of flame.

  The knights, lead by Traser, charged the half-human, half undead engaging it in hand to hand combat. I heard more than saw when Traser recognized the half-man. “Dazin? Is that you cousin?! What has this witch done to you!” My blood ran chill, I had no idea what had happened to him, but whatever it was Dazin was no longer who he had been.

  The goblin shaman regained her focus. Cackling she unleashed a torrent of similar force bolts, these tinted green, and splashing acid everywhere similarly to how mine did fire. They met with my fire bolts in the air, and more than half the time they simply canceled each other out. The other bolts sped off in random directions wildly endangering everyone in the room. Fire and acid scorched the stone directly under where the two streams of magic met, even as the Jet of Flame battered at her shield shredding nearly a hundred durability points in damage every few seconds.

  I heard children scream, and realized the shaman had been standing in front of a cage. A cage filled with two children would-be sacrifices, wearing white wool shirts. Losing concentration momentarily I noticed there was an older girl and a very young boy who was crying. The boy was being gently rocked by his larger cage-mate as she desperately tried to quiet him.

  My rage boiled over, the world turned to red. I continued the constant stream of force bolts, but I slowed them only to keep the shaman's attacks at bay, rather than doing as I had thought to do, and overwhelm her, cutting off the Jet of Flames at the same time. With the discovery of the children in the room, my strategy had to change.

  First, I summoned my shield and elongated it to touch the floor and cover as much of me as was possible. Crouching behind it, I then began compressing my mana into five small stones, the spell only took a few seconds to cast, but I took the time to ensure I had shaped the mana constructs that where each pebble correctly. When they were finally finished, I rolled them along the ground, and under the shaman’s shield.

  As soon as I let go of the tiny stones, a massive ball of green acid struck my shield, splashing and scorching the spell shield and the stone underfoot. A small amount of the acid splashed high and overcame the shield on its way down landing on my shoulder. “Aaagh!” I yelled as I cast Cure Light Wounds on the arm even as it burned. It was only a minor inconvenience really, but the loss of concentration had lead to a nearly complete miss with my own spell.

  Four of the five pebbles bounced off the ground and landed wide of their target, quickly turning from pebble into thermite paste and burning through the floor several feet before finally dying. The last one continued on as planned, bouncing and rolling along the floor and directly under the feet of the mad shaman. Thermite burned the ground, and the heat rose.

  “Eeeeeak!” the shaman screeched and she danced back, losing her concentration on the steady stream of my fire bolts. Several streaked past the petering stream from her own staff, and slammed into her, sending her flying back into the cage behind her. The children screamed, and I kept up the barrage. With each hit, the return attacks lessened, though I could see the fire and acid splashes was clearly getting close to the cage.

  “Noooo!” She screamed, as a bolt hit her staff and sent it flying across the room. I stopped my stream of force bolts for just a second, savoring the fear in her eyes, before I unleashed eight successful blasts, and turned
her body to mulch.

  As the children screamed, their white clothes now covered in blood and bits of viscera from the goblin who had just died outside their cage, I surveyed the rest of the battle.

  One of the knights had been felled, either dead or dying I wasn't sure. The others kept fighting, though both the other knight and Traser sported some kind of injury. The creature that had been Dazin was frantically, almost ludicrously fast as he darted in among them, stabbed at unprotected knee joints, or the backs of arms and legs, before darting back out again.

  Dazin he was far from untouched, I could see deep bloody cuts all along his arms, torso, and shoulders. The creature that had been Dazin was bleeding profusely but didn’t seem to show any signs of stopping its relentless assault on the two standing knights.

  I looked to the main fight, Tol’geth had engaged the witch, battering at her shield with his sword. Every two or three hits the shield would buckle, and the Necromancer would be interrupted in her spell and block the attack with her own staff. She met him with nearly the same amount of strength the buffed barbarian, and he was level 35! I had no idea what level she had to be to be both a spell caster and physically strong enough to go toe to toe with a roided out Tol’geth.

  “Oh, come on!” I said in frustration, as I aimed my staff for her head and let loose a short five-bolt burst. The fire and force simply rippled on a shield she had at some point summoned. The merger distraction I had created allowed Tol’geth to break the shield in a single blow rather than several as he had been doing up till that point. When the shield dropped, he reached for her neck with hands more than capable of snapping it like a twig but was rebuffed as the necromancers shield reemerged. I raised my staff again to strike, but the young boy screamed in terror again.

  “Ailsa, can you guard the kids please?” I asked the fairy who had been hiding behind my shield from the acidic force bolts that were flying around the room almost randomly.

  “Sure thing!” She said cheerily, and then shot into their cage, and raised her purple shield with blue lightning streaks in a bubble around the cage. It was the same spell she had used on the road to Cutters Hollow, just smaller, and seemingly denser. Knowing the two kids were in good and powerful if ADHD riddled, hands, I turned back to the fight.

  Tol’geth looks like he's at least holding his own, I thought and raced towards the fight with the half-consumed Dazin, after shooting off a couple of more force spells at the necromancer out of nothing more than spite. I took stock of how many spells I had left in the staff, It was almost halfway to empty, leaving me a little less than 290 bolts, with no other spells stored in the staff.

  I flicked my eyes back to the battle I was running towards and watched as Dazin stabbed the second knight who had accompanied us clean through the chest. The screeching of the steel as it bent inwards and then finally gave was unsettling in its own right, but to see Dazin then lift him up, and toss him aside like nothing, was almost too much. I stopped and shook myself. Come on man keep it together! Kill this jerk, and then you can all help Tol’geth take out queen mcstabby!

  I took a deep breath, and let it out settling my nerves, all while Traser continued to fight the creature alone. I moved then, towards the injured men. I checked each for a pulse, one of them, the one just tossed aside, was still alive groaning in pain. I turned him over, undid the straps on his armor and threw it aside. I placed my hand directly over the whole and cast Cure Minor Wounds several times.

  In between the 5 second cooldowns, I peppered Dazin with force bolts from my hand, not my staff, sending him skitting a few feet each time, and one time igniting the few scraps of pant leg that still clung to his body. While he was ripping the clothes off, I turned back to my patient.

  The flesh had knitted back together, but I wasn’t sure about any internal damage. I’m not skilled enough to deal with that, maybe he has a potion on him? The man was still groggy, but he was coming too. “Do you have any potions?” I asked him but all I got in response was a moan as he raised his hands to his helmet and pulled it off. I riffled through the satchel at the man's hip. “Notepad, pencil, pencils? Plural? Where did you think we were, and to do what exactly, take a sketch of the battle?” I asked the guy as I pulled the handful of items he had stuffed in the small bag out and laid them next to him.

  “Ah, here we go!” I said excitedly as I found a small red vial, pulsing lightly with golden energy.

  “You have found Potion of “Cure Moderate Wounds”...”

  I didn’t bother reading the rest of the prompt, I uncorked the thing and put it to the man's lips. “Drink you Buckethead, open your mouth.” The man's jaw went slack at the order, and I poured the entire concoction down his throat. “There's a good man, now rest. When you’re clear-headed, get back in the fight!” I ordered him as I put his sword in his hands across his chest. I got to remember to get a sack full of those things! The man nodded, and I left him to check the other knight. I didn’t find a pulse and had to move on. Traser cant take Dazin alone for too long.

  I turned and found Dazin, a sword through his chest. Only Traser stood against him, round steel shield held high, and short sword he had retrieved from its sheath at his belt, after leaving the longer weapon in Dazin’s chest, tucked in tight in a defensive stance. That stance I knew, it was as fundamental to sword and shield fighting as breathing was to living. It would allow him to strike or block whatever blow his mad bastard half undead cousin would try to land next.

  I realized something then, with Traser having sidestepped after impaling the undead monster, I had a clear line of attack on the mad, undead lordling. Grinning, almost without thinking, I raised my staff and unleashed a steady stream of force bolts right into his chest. Dazin withstood the barrage for a few seconds, pulling the sword from his chest in a sickening motion that sent blood and ichor across the room. The new damage was healed over as the black substance consumed more of Dazin’s body. I kept up the stream of attacks and Dazin was lifted off his feet and sent hurtling into the far wall.

  I kept up the barrage and walked forward, I stopped just on the other side of Traser. The Knight-Commander gave me a long, almost awed look. I nodded towards Dazin, and the knight just continued to look slightly stunned at my intervention. “Well? Get ready to stab him, dude!”

  “Necromancer! Help me!” Dazen shouted, “You promised me power! Give it to me now!” I glanced over at the fight between her and Tol’geth. The large barbarian was bloodied and bruised, but not anywhere near out of the fight. A purple haze surrounded him, as he struggled with the much smaller, frail-looking woman. The purple haze seemed to battle a black miasma that emanated from her skin as they struggled against one another.

  The necromancer had one of Tol’geth’s arms stretched across the altar, she was pinning it there with both of her own. As I watched, she tried to lift one hand to her belt, but as she did Tol’geth nearly broke free and she quickly returned it to pinning the Barbarian. They were in a kind of stalemate, but Tol’geth had a free arm.

  He raised it above his head and tried to stab the woman with his sword, wielding it one-handed. I never got to see the consequences of his actions, as my staff shuddered slightly. I stopped the barrage, worried the staff was going to break apart from the constant stream of energy.

  Dust rained down from the ceiling and obscured the outcome of my attack. Keeping my shield up, I quickly sidestepped towards Traser. “Traser, form up?” I asked. The next thing I knew the man's shield was locked with min on the left. “Advance?” I asked, and I felt more than saw him nodded his approval. We advanced quickly together. I cast the occasional force bolt through the staff in the dead man's direction.

  Just before we reached sword striking distance, another shield locked with ours, the knight I had rescued joined the line. “Good man!” Traser praised, and together as one we walked through the obscuring dust.

  As it settled and cleared slightly, Dazin, or what has once been Dazin, sat leaning bodily against the wall. His bodies na
tural fluids, mixing with the white dust from the ceiling, and the black ichor from the undead half of himself. “Kill me… before it takes me fully” he begged quietly. I did not know how he was able to even speak, his face and head where nearly mulch. I looked at the others, who all nodded. We obliged the traitor and struck.

  “You have slain Dazin, the Half Dead….”

  I minimized the box without finishing reading it, turning my back on the sad scene. “DIE WITCH!” Tol’geth’s voice hit my ears and we all turned towards the last battle. Tol’geth had one of his massive hands wrapped around the woman's throat and was lifting her into the air. Tol’geth wasn’t untouched, he had cuts and bruises all over his body. Blood coated nearly every inch of his exposed flesh, his ponytail was soaked in it, the other arm hung limply to one side. The limp arm was charred black, and it looked remarkably feeble compared to the rest of the hulking warrior. Black miasma swirled around the shriveled limb as if puffs of smoke.

  What the hell did I miss! I thought. That must have been a hell of a fight! The necromancer weakly beat at his hand with her fists, trying to escape. Her pixie-cut black hair gave her a crazed look as the robe dropped away off her shoulders. Underneath she wore a suit of the latex skin from some of her unknown victims that clung to her surprisingly young feminine form. Only her hands, feet, and head were exposed to the air. One of the necromancers legs was broken, it falling at a strange angle as she feebly struggled against my large friend.