by Vance Moore
Its mouth gaping wide, it poured out a green mist, the emerald haze flowing down the street. The ambassador could still see, but the scene was blurred. Only the frog's ground-hugging nature and his high vantage point allowed him to view all the combatants. For those on the street, everything was lost in the attack. The head of the dragon swung skyward, and the ambassador realized that the monster could still see. It came forward as the lieutenant hurled forces into the air.
Burly warriors threw small raypen, their spindly legs trailing as they spread their deformed arms wide. The magic flowed, and their arms doubled in length, feathers spurting from their skin as sorcery gave them the wings that their ancestors gave up millennia before. Four bird warriors climbed higher and began shouting reports to the lieutenant below. The ambassador swore as the Order forces moved forward. The destruction of his host's city would have pleased Laquatus greatly.
Shouts of surprise sounded from the fog below. Like the tropical jungles of the south, ivy and kudzu spread over the buildings and streets. Wild growth exploded out of window boxes. Plants and vines unfamiliar to Laquatus curled around windows and doorways as thick grasses and brush tore through cobblestones. The street swiftly became impassable.
Weapons once ready to battle a dragon tried to cut a path. The fallen zombies vanished as plants tore apart what remained of their bodies. The Krosan dragon forced its way through the street, its tons of armored flesh finding the plants only slightly less navigable than the fog that preceded them. Its tongue searched the air for traces of the now hidden troops.
The raypen called out reports, and the Lieutenant responded from below. The bird warriors banked and swooped toward the dragon. Long darts fell as they pulled up, the projectiles slicing into the animal's head. The creature bled profusely, one of the attacks tearing open the scales near the eye. Weeping red tears, the giant blew forth a geyser of green mist. It swept through the sky, its concentrated green a verdant club that swatted at the flyers, hiding them from sight.
The raypen climbed out of obscurity, wildly pumping for clear air. Then they screamed, their limbs flexing spasti-cally. Their cries choked off, and Laquatus could see them coughing up gouts of green as they went into seizures. Their magic failed, and they plummeted, diving into the tall grass covering the street and vanishing from view.
The ambassador felt the lieutenant drawing more power as the Order warriors reacted to the deaths of the flyers. The figures blazed gold as they tried to protect against infestation, but soldiers collapsed as the green fought against them, the invisible seeds of destruction sown in the first moments of battle.
The barbarian Kamahl advanced from the arena, his sword a long whip of flame that burned a path through the brush. Bursts of searing red light emanated from his body, wilting the plants nearby. Laquatus hoped for his death as the jack cut a channel through the fog. The sweeps of his weapon burned others free as he reached Kirtar's position and continued past, ignoring the bird warrior's shouted orders. He trailed supporters in his race up the street.
The dragon's head dipped to devour the impudent barbarian, but the sword's long flame charred a line of flesh over its nose. Fresh gouts of the mystical growth hormone washed over the street, but a spreading cloud of flame burned out a circle of safety. The beast tried to maneuver, but fiery knives arced up and exploded on the dragon's side as it turned away. The fires swept away stretches of the thorny vines protecting the animal's hide. Cabal armsmen who had run to the roofs of surrounding buildings found their courage, and a few arrows and bolts sought the gaps in green armor. The huge tail brought down more structures, whipping in painful frenzy as rubble cascaded into the verdant growth. Clouds of dust set the combatants choking as they disappeared from view.
There was a fresh bout of screams, and Laquatus watched the dragon's claws hooking a hapless fighter into the cloud. Unable to see into the green haze, he summoned a wind. It took precious seconds, but the mass of dust blew over the rooftops, completely blinding those archers and spearmen with the courage to be exposed. The merman ignored them as the cloud began to clear the street He saw the dragon whip its head, catapulting a screaming soldier through the air to intercept the barbarian as he came into view. Laquatus clapped with delight.
"Good show," he called, ignoring the looks of the importer. The barbarian and his humanoid projectile sailed into a faceless building, which shot out more dust as internal walls collapsed. The roof pitched sharply, and refugees of the street battle screamed as they slid off and fell to the timbers and stone blocks below.
The lieutenant ordered a retreat, driving the fighters and the few remaining observers at street level down other avenues.
"We'll hamstring it as it tears into the arena," he shouted. Laquatus started as he saw the beast coming closer. The skybox began to drop, cutting off the view of the action.
"Take us back up!" he ordered the importer, furious at the interruption. It was the merchant's servant who answered him.
"The energy to the transports is being redirected to the defensive shields," the pilot explained, directing the craft to a cradle against the opposite wall. "They must be planning to drive the animal into the decay field to kill it." The ambassador could feel the deadly spells below growing more powerful.
"Why would they think the beast headed here?" he asked. "Surely it will chase the cowards running away rather than attack an empty building."
This time it was the importer who answered him.
"It comes to answer the cry of distant kin," Toustos explained. The merchant was nervous, and the merman could tell the human tried to control his own fear by showing his superior knowledge. "It will break its way in and kill whoever it finds when it sees and smells the corpse of the dragonette."
The ambassador looked to the sands below. Turg lay as if dead, stuffed to bursting on wild ass and the monster's caller. There was no way to raise him from his slumber, though Laquatus sent command after command to the amphibian's mind. His enhanced hearing could hear the slamming of bolts as every gate closed in an attempt to keep the beast inside after it broke through.
"I am sure they will kill it before it can devour your champion or reach us," the importer said nervously. The ambassador grasped him by the throat and with a single motion threw him to the sands below. Maggot-ridden meat struck the floor, and the merman's guard did not even wait for the order, hurling the skybox attendant over the side of the conveyance. The mercenary retired back, trying not to catch his master's attention.
"I will trust these incompetent animals to protect me?" Laquatus said to himself. "These dry, ungainly fools, unworthy of all responsibility!" he screamed as the guard tried to make himself smaller. "I spit on these air-breathing tube worms!"
The ambassador sent his call forth again, compelling absolute, immediate compliance. But his demand did not split open the skull of the comatose pit frog. Instead the orders passed through the rock beneath the arena, resonating in the caverns below. Laquatus felt the surge of power as his waiting armies prepared to attack.
CHAPTER 6
"Bloody hell," rasped Kamahl as he opened his eyes. The fighter ached over every portion of his being. His mind fuzzed, and he tried to remember where he was. It came back to him as he coughed up dust and smoke. The fight with the attacking monster, the concealing clouds of dust, and the impact of the thrown soldier. All of it surged into focus as he pushed his way to his feet. Plaster and lumber sloughed from his back as he looked to the gaping hole that his flight had left. The small fires started during his impact were growing and at his stern glance died down, the smoke whistling through every crack in the houses structure as his will compelled the flames.
Kamahl looked for the soldier who had rammed him. A congealing pool of blood leaking from another pile of debris told the barbarian his likely fate. He shoveled away wreckage with his hand and exposed a dead face. A support beam nailed the corpse to the floor as firmly as a mountain. The mage could hear cries of the beast and stumbled outside, his steps
becoming firmer with every second. His sword hung from the outside wall, the blade sunk deep in oak. Kamahl threw power into the steel and ripped it free in a hail of splinters. Armed and aware, he cut his way to the street.
The grasses and bushes that blocked his way had grown only a little after his unexpected withdrawal. Rubble from newly demolished buildings covered a lush growth that continued to push its way toward the sun. The barbarian climbed carefully up a slope of debris, accepting the risk of a fall for a better view. The tail of the dragon lashed across the street, each beat bringing fresh destruction. Kamahl saw no sign of the other fighters and wondered if the beast had killed them all.
The monster reared up against the wall of the arena, its front two legs digging at the stones. Thin panels of fine rock fell, revealing the brick that formed the walls. Kamahl knew the beast would claw its way through in minutes. Whether any yet remained inside was unknown, but they would surely die when the dragon pushed its way through the ramshackle structure. The barbarian sheathed his sword on his back and walked up the street toward the stadium, the grass and brush grasping at his legs.
The mountain warrior stopped and concentrated, ignoring the caresses from the growing plants. Kamahl hurled a continuing barrage of knives drawn from his mind. The blades burst into red and orange flame, casting shadow as they spun before sinking into the waving tail of the monster. The dragon's reflexive movement from the pain batted aside some of the projectiles, imbedding them in buildings. The weapons started fires as they discharged into walls and new trees, the smoke promoting fresh cries of panic as those guardsmen hiding in rubble and out of sight found their sanctuaries set alight. Despite the secondary damage, the dragon's tail dropped limply to the ground as Kamahl's attack burned through bundles of nerves.
The beast, maddened with pain, spun in the square before the arena. The monster's hips brushed against the exposed brick core of the pit walls. The masonry fragmented and stained the creature's upper legs a dark ochre, matching its dusty claws. The beast slowed as its dead, trailing tail robbed it of speed, dragging through the rubble and catching on exposed beams before the monster's power tore it free. Kamahl continued his assault, more magically forged knives spinning on their trajectories toward the dragon. City guard corpses were still impaled on the creature's thorny armor, and the barbarian's attack thudded into the cooling bodies. The monster's thorny armor and the dead began to burn as the mystic metal vanished in gouts of flame. Kamahl knew the impromptu funeral pyres were the only ceremony the guardsmen were likely to receive in Cabal City.
The dragon recovered, finishing its turn and roaring at the barbarian, its teeth red with the blood of those already slain. Kamahl drew his sword, waiting for the beast's charge.
A new flare of magic lit up the street, surprising beast and barbarian. The combatants froze in the glare, the monster blinded and the city guards diving for cover. Kamahl stretched out his mind, trying to trace the origin of the power rippling through the ground. He felt for the stability and strength that he knew from his home mountains, but from the depths an alien magic seemed to poison the very street he stood on.
Pools of light expanded out of the ground, their blue radiance growing stronger and attacking Kamahl's eyes. Frothy ponds formed, stilled, and dimmed, and creatures erupted into the upper world.
Giant crabs surged from the holes, spreading out in a red tide. Their massive frames broke through the welter of brush. Claws tore out the dragon growth by the roots, revealing the cobblestones that had vanished under the beast's attack. The snapping of small tree trunks sounded across the battlefield as the crustaceans cleared a beachhead, their pincers shredding those obstacles they could not simply uproot by sheer strength.
The dragon blinked at the sudden activity, frozen in surprise. Then a building front, damaged by the battle, cascaded into the street and broke its trance. The monster breathed out a cloud of green mist, beginning a new bout of berserk growth. The potent breath swept up the street, settling over the scuttling crabs then reaching the barbarian. Kamahl closed his eyes and concentrated. Small flames leaped up from his clothes and gear, then grew until his entire body was encased in the pale flame. The sound of the fire was echoed in the hiss and crackle of new growth sprouting everywhere in the street. Cobblestones cracked as trees and bushes forced their way to the surface. The flames leaped from Kamahl's clothes to the ground and new tendrils of growth withered. The warrior started forward, the fire of his will burning a path through the resurgent vegetation. The flames lit the mist, and he moved as if in a fog.
The barbarian used his sword now, his fiery armor thinning, leaving him more exposed to the mist. The energy clung to his sword and each swing of his weapon cast a scything whip of power ahead to clear his path. The blade opened the way to the crabs' clearing.
The pools were still lighting the fading mist with their radiance. Kamahl felt immediate antipathy to the light. Its color pierced the eye, and his weapon's flame curled back behind him, expending his irrational hate into the vegetation at his back. The dragon was coming into view, and he could not afford distractions now.
The sea walkers showed no reactions to the barbarian's emergence from the new jungle, continuing to cut back growth. The dragon breathed again, its concentrated wrath billowing over the clearing. Many of the crustaceans were covered with growing plants, but they continued working, their claws now trimming grass and bushes from their fellow workers as well as the clearing's edge. A new surge of mer forces began to crowd the clearing. The crabs moved on, their claws now raised and threatening.
Kamahl cut his way along the perimeter of the encampment. The warrior surmounted a mound of rubble enabling him to look over the crab's clearing. New creatures dragged themselves from the pools, and the crustaceans charged the dragon. The giant reptile reared up, four legs waved in the air as it spun, its tail skimming through the crabs. The sea fighters were thrown up against a building front, their shells fracturing with a series of crackling sounds. The dragon's dead tail still had mass, and the reptile used it like a club, slamming it into the structure's facade. Rubble cascaded down over the broken shells.
The giant monster moved into the arena's square, the street's buildings blocking the barbarian's view. Kamahl now had to skirt the new forces creeping out of the pools. Small humanoids with huge heads crawled out onto the surface gingerly, their whiskers trailing on the ground. The barbarian recognized the amphibians. The tresias were sometimes found in highland caves. The street was filling with these new arrivals, and Kamahl swore as they blocked the way. The blind creatures' great claws scraped over the rubble and slashed mounds of mown grass into mulch. The barbarian was nearing the square, and his lashing flame blade scythed away the undergrowth. The dragon screamed and came back into view. It stomped a crab into jelly, and pounds of meat squirted out between the animal's clawed toes. It began to move up the street.
The amphibians' oversized heads rose up, orienting on the giant monster. A surreal and hypnotic radiance pulsed out toward the common enemy-faint in the sunlight and dust of battle but commanding all the same. Kamahl caught only a brief glimpse, and it mesmerized him. The battle faded away as his mind lost itself in a play of color. His training strained to break the silken mental bonds, to reassert his mastery. The barbarian's struggles cleared his mind, and as his sight came back, he found himself turned around, facing down the street, away from the dragon and toward the tresias. He shifted his eyes away, avoiding the hypnotic trap that tried to ensnare him once more. From the corner of his eye he could see more crabs coming forth, these falling upon the rubble and vegetation to expand the beachhead.
As the hypnotic power of the tresias seemed to dim, a new wave of reinforcements crawled from the depths below. Kamahl shuffled to the side in atavistic reaction as the new marine fighters rolled and oozed over the landscape. The cephalid soldiers hauled themselves by their tentacles out of the pool. Bags of flesh, they left a trail of slime as they slithered over the cobblestones.
Kamahl scaled the side of a building, his bruised hands leaving a tacky film of blood as he swarmed up the side. The sea forces had cleared a path, but he would not trust their company. By the time he reached the third story, the dragon sounded again, fury in its voice as it overcame the amphibians' spell. The barbarian chinned himself to the rooftop and turned to run toward the giant monster, finally free of the undergrowth and mer warriors below.
The cephalids attacked the dragon, propping their projectors on rubble and bodies from the battle. The shafts flew wildly, and Kamahl congratulated himself on seeking higher ground. Incompetence and inexperience could kill as quickly as malice. A few bolts from spear guns snapped into reptilian flesh though most landed on rubble and cobblestones. The projectiles discharged showers of sparks, and the barbarian detected the same energies that fed lightning storms. The mountain warrior conjured an axe of flame and threw it with all the force at his command. The conjured weapon spun through the air and slammed into the shoulder of the convulsing dragon. A charred circle expanded as the magic destroyed the thorny armor to show the hide beneath.
"There's an aiming point!" Kamahl shouted to the forces below. The cephalids were silent, their tentacles locked around their projectors as they compacted springs and loaded new shafts for another volley. The barbarian forgot the clumsy fighters in the street below as he heard the battle cry of the Order.