by C. M. Carney
Wick nodded and moved silently to his position. Down below he could see Gryph on his knees with Dirge’s dagger at his throat. A portal to a wondrous place of green shimmered in front of them. Then there was the Barrow King.
Wick’s mind and soul told him to flee. Fear bubbled up inside him at the sight of the revenant who nature was so unnatural as to make Xeg seem like the fairest of elf maidens. Whatever the Barrow King was, he had perverted not only nature, but his immortal soul. Wick forced his fear away.
Eight dread knights lined the walls along with the two at the Barrow King’s feet. Shoving his fear away with a deep breath, Wick summoned chthonic energy around his hand and waited.
Eons passed, it until a single word pulsed into his mind. Now.
43
A flash of red-black energy exploded against the nearest dread knight’s face, searing desiccated flesh and exploding the creature’s skull.
An arrow zipped down and caught another of the undead creatures in the eye. Whatever animated the beast must have still considered the brain important, because like its fellow, it dropped to the ground dying for a second time.
Gryph’s right hand moved the second the mental call had come through and as the blast tore the first dread knight’s head from its shoulders, the rope binding Gryph snapped up and coiled itself around Dirge’s wrist.
The thief yelped in surprise and attempted to thrust the dagger home, but the serpentine rope’s strength was too much. The rest of the rope disentangled from Gryph and flowed around Dirge and squeezed. Gryph poured his will into the rope and activated the spider silk’s compel ability.
Drop the blade, he ordered Dirge. The Aegyptian’s face contorted, but he held onto the blade. Ovyrm was right, the man had a strong mind.
“Betrayers,” the Barrow King bellowed in a voice that tore at Gryph's bones. The revenant leapt from the dais with incredible speed and raised his staff on high. As the Barrow King landed, he brought the tip smashing down onto the stone floor. A wave of raw energy exploded from the impact point, knocking everything in the room from their feet.
The Barrow King spun his staff and pointed its gnarled tip at Gryph. Tendrils of inky black shot from it and flew at Gryph. He rolled and spun, avoiding the lithe streams of smoke and darkness. He pulled his spear from his inventory and pushed mana into the tip. There was little time to load the spear before he arced the weapon down. It sliced through several tendrils near to enveloping him. Gryph spun again, slicing through another reaching tendril.
Then one and another, and then a half a dozen grasped a hold of Gryph and squeezed. The spear fell from his grasp as his body immobilized. The tendrils squeezed harder stretched him. Gryph imagined being drawn and quartered felt like.
Debuff(s) Added:
Immobile.
Health Drain: 5pts/sec.
Mana Drain: 5pts/sec.
Stamina Drain: 5pts/sec.
Spirit Drain: 5 pts/sec.
Gryph screamed in pain as his life essence siphoned from him and into the Barrow King. He couldn’t grab his spear, couldn’t down a health potion. He couldn’t move, but he didn’t need to. Gryph poured mana into his chest plate and released it. The room exploded with the light of a newborn sun. The tendrils burned away under the intense glare, and Gryph could almost hear them scream in otherworldly pain.
Dirge, his thugs, and every dread knight in the room roared in pain as the searing light bit at their eyes, blinding them. The Barrow King staggered. Gryph was surprised that the brightness did not blind him.
Gryph threw his left hand out and poured mana into his bracers. His discarded spear flew to his hand just as the Barrow King drove downward with his staff. Gryph parried the blow, the power knocking him to his knees. For an ethereal spirit with no real physical form, the Barrow King packed a wallop.
Gryph spun, adding mana into the spear and slashed at the Barrow King’s ankle. The tip passed right through the ethereal limb, leaving flashed of brilliant light as he did. The Barrow King’s leg buckled, and he fell to one knee. It turned towards Gryph and roared.
Viscous black liquid vomited towards Gryph as he once again spun and rolled out of the way. It landed in a heap and the floor beneath it sizzled. Gryph poured more mana into his spear and struck again, this time triggering the weapon’s Banish ability.
The Barrow King shimmered as the spear interrupted the connection to the netherworld that sustained him. Gryph used the time to regain his footing and catch his breath. Gryph pleaded with the universe for aid, but his prayers fell on deaf ears as the shimmer of light assaulting the Barrow King faded.
“Shit,” Gryph muttered as he backed away from the shadow-cloaked revenant. With a quick glance borne from intense training, Gryph surveyed the battle.
Ovyrm had leapt from the balcony and his red saber was a blur of crimson energy, slicing and dicing through the desiccated limbs of several dread knights. The xydai’s grace and power amazed Gryph. Two of the undead warriors lay dead, and a third was not long for it.
Dirge and his cronies had pulled together into defensive positions. Back to back to back, they held their own. The ugly one, Byrrk screamed in agony as the black ooze enveloped his leg. The same black ooze that the Barrow King had vomited at Gryph.
Holy Shit, Gryph thought. The black ooze is an undead vomit baby?
Gryph watched in horror as the baby ooze leached itself up Byrrk’s body, consuming him. The brute swung his sword down in panic, doing as much damage to his own leg as to the ooze. Soon, he collapsed, and he was enveloped. The large man's horrific screams were muffled and then ended. The smell of dissolving flesh reached Gryph’s nose, spasming him from his momentary shock.
Wick was nowhere to be seen. Gryph smiled. That was part of the plan. The gnome conjurer’s power did not lay in hand-to-hand combat, but in his ability to summon. A powerful ally was about to join the fray.
Xeg was at the cage holding Tifala, struggling with the lock. Gryph couldn’t hear what the gnome woman was saying, but he knew that her gentle voice was encouraging the imp. She made eye contact with Gryph and nodded.
Gryph turned back to his own fight as the Barrow King launched a lightning quick strike of his staff. The gnarled wood caught Gryph in the chest and a pulse of black energy smashed him backwards. Pain erupted and for a moment Gryph feared his heart had stopped. But soon, he felt the beat and a deep breath pushed a shard of icy pain into his chest. He had broken ribs and his health bar had dropped by a quarter.
The Barrow King swung again, and Gryph knew he couldn’t take another shot like that. He thrust his right hand out and activated his ring. The bubble of solid air shimmered as the staff struck. A corona of black energy flowed around the sphere, but it held.
Gryph fired Flying Stalactite through the shield and grinned as the spike of stone bit into the Barrow King’s shoulder. The undead lord screamed and tore the shard of earth from its body, whipping it back at Gryph with incredible force. Once again, the air shield deflected the attack, but its shimmer told Gryph it would not hold much longer.
Gryph double fisted a health and mana potion and rolled back to his feet just as the shield failed. Gryph put himself into a defensive stance and poured mana into his spear. He activated his bracers and threw the spear with all his might. The blazing missile surged towards the shadowy form of the Barrow King and thundered into his chest. The force of the blow pushed the creature back, and it fell to one knee. It shuddered as if in pain, and Gryph took a quick glance at the wraith’s stats.
The things Health was still at 75%, but its Mana was bottoming out. Gryph grumbled. He’d been pounding the wraith with everything he had barely made a dent to the revenant's life.
The Barrow King pulled himself back up to his full size. It pulled the spear from its body and held it in a shaking hand. A pulse of power flowed down the Barrow King’s arm, and Gryph’s spear disintegrated into ash.
“Shit.” Losing good spears was becoming a bad habit for Gryph.
Then t
hings got worse.
The Barrow King’s dead eyes filled with eldritch green energy and it spread both arms wide. Its mouth opened far wider than it ever could have in life and a piercing scream, like the sound of some demonic bird calling allies to arms erupted from its throat.
Around the chamber, the fallen bodies of the dread knights and Byrrk shook as if seething maggots were trying to burrow free. Pulsing blobs of green energy erupted from their mouths and flew into the waiting maw of the Barrow King. The revenant’s body spasmed and all of his stats surged to 100%.
The Barrow King had just used their souls. As casually as Gryph would use a healing potion. He advanced on Gryph with terrible speed.
44
Disarmed and facing the onslaught of a rampaging bull, Gryph made a desperate gamble. He forced mana into his boots, and he felt every fast twitch muscle fiber in his body flush with energy.
With his speed doubled, he dodged the Barrow King’s clumsy onslaught. He dove to the side, drew his Ice Dagger and flipped over a sideways swipe of his enemy’s staff. The power of the boots boosted his leaping ability as well, and he came down behind the Barrow King, thrusting the dagger into the base of the creature’s neck where skull met spine.
Gryph was rewarded with a dry snap as the dagger buried itself into the top vertebrae. He filled the dagger with mana and the frigid field expanded, crumbling already brittle bones. The Barrow King wailed in agony and spun to and fro, trying to dislodge Gryph, but he held fast.
“AVERNERIUS!” boomed a voice that both was and was not Wick’s, and a point of crimson light appeared a dozen feet in front of the Barrow King. The point expanded into a vertical line, and then the line widened into a door to hell.
This time when Gryph saw the horrid devil rushing towards the door, he did not fret. He smiled. His momentary glee distracted him enough for the Barrow King to grab his arm in a cold, skeletal embrace. Iron strong fingers of bone dug into Gryph’s forearm, and he heard bones crack.
Gryph yanked the dagger free with his other hand and tried to thrust it into the side of the ancient skull, but the Barrow King’s other arm spun in its socket in a way no living arm could and grabbed his wrist. Now trapped Gryph could only watch as the Barrow King’s head twisted 180 degrees, his gaping mouth mere inches from Gryph’s face.
Gryph’s entire world became that gaping maw of death and the horror it was about to spew forth.
*****
Wick chanted the final word of the summons, nearly tearing his mortal vocal cords to shreds. The gnome collapsed to one knee as the infernal portal tore a slice in reality. The strain of summoning hell’s lieutenant made him dizzy and weak. He willed himself to get to his feet just as the massive demon crossed the threshold into this realm.
Frantic eyes searched for Tifala, and he smiled when he saw her exiting the cage. She gave Xeg a quick pat on the head, eliciting a smile and a coo from the imp. Her eyes darted up to his, and he sent the thought run through the mental link Ovyrm had given them.
She grinned up at him, shook her head no and his mind filled with her voice. No, my love, I am here with you to the end. Wick scowled but knew there was no talking her out of it.
Tifala summoned blinding white energy to her hands. She unleashed two life bolts at the nearest dread knight, taking the creature unawares from behind and blowing its head from its shoulder.
Avernerius swung his tree length sword of flame back and forth in slow, almost lazy arcs. Each swing decapitated or bisected the torso of a dread knight. Dirge, who had been fighting the dread knight the demon had just bisected, back flipped away from Avernerius’ third swing. The arc of flame just missed the thief as he thudded hard to the ground.
Wick couldn’t help but laugh. Apparently, he'd forgotten to name the traitor bastard as friendly. “Whoops,” Wick said aloud.
A little help here, came Gryph’s frantic mental call, pulling Wick from his temporary glee. He saw his friend being stretched by the Barrow King’s mis-aligned limbs and saw the revenant’s head spin.
Wick jumped from the balcony and slid down a support column. As he landed, he threw his arms out to the side and pulsed mana into them. Two short swords of blazing crimson darkness appeared in his hands, and he ran towards the Barrow King’s back. He leapt up, just as the cloaked shadow’s shoulders hunched and buckled like a child about to vomit.
Wick brought both summoned swords down on the Barrow King’s shoulder. The chthonic metal sliced through shadow and bone and severed the arm. Wick landed with agile grace as Gryph brought both feet up to kick the Barrow King in the head.
The wraith’s head was knocked to the side as a stream of black ooze erupted from its mouth. It covered both the Barrow King’s arm and Gryph’s wrist. Gryph screamed in agony as his arm burned, but the revenant’s skeletal arm was immune to the acidic damage. The creature’s head turned back to Gryph, ready to hurl another volley of black death.
Gryph was injured, but he was a warrior born. He lifted the Barrow King’s severed skeletal arm with his left hand and crammed it with tremendous force down into the Barrow King’s open mouth. The arm blocked the torrent of black ooze allowing only a trickle to bubble forth.
Gryph landed on his feet and tossed several of his throwing knives at the Barrow King. They didn’t do too much damage, but he recalled and tossed them again. The small blows slowly whittled at the lich’s health.
Wick helped Gryph to his feet and doused the taller man’s arm with the last of his silver solutions. The acid dissolved under the metal’s onslaught, and Gryph’s pain abated. Gryph nodded his thanks and was about to say something when the Barrow King screamed again.
Gryph pushed Wick aside as several more globes of silver soul energy flew from the defeated dread knights and down the Barrow King’s throat. In an instant, the creature was again at 100%. Even the severed arm regrew.
He snapped the new arm out and the fallen staff flew to its hand. With a dramatic two handed thrust the Barrow King smashed the staff into the floor.
The massive doors at the far end of the room opened.
“He’s summoning reinforcements. Send the demon,” Gryph yelled.
Wick nodded and sent a mental command to his demonic minion. Block the door. Kill anything that enters.
With a final backward swing, Avernerius decapitated the second of Dirge’s cohorts. Alone among enemies, Dirge turned his attack to Ovyrm. As if predicting his question, Ovyrm’s voice filled the communal channel.
I have this. Help Gryph.
*****
“So, this is how it ends,” Dirge said, his dagger held forth. Ovyrm knew the skill with blades possessed by the leader of the Gray Company. He had seen it many times before and faced it once. The blades Dirge held were not so much tools as extensions of the wiry man’s deadly intent.
But Ovyrm was an Adjudicator, and he would dispense justice. The xydai settled his mind and his body eased like water. He sent an invocation into the aether and felt spirit energy flow down his arm into his saber. While Dirge’s weapons may be extensions of his body, Ovyrm’s weapon was an extension of his will. And it wasn’t his only weapon.
Ovyrm lashed out with his thoughts, attempting to stun Dirge into submission. The dagger-wielding thief threw up a barrier. For an assassin the smaller man was an adept thought mage. Dirge grinned at Ovyrm.
The Aegyptian slashed with his left dagger, an obvious feint meant to distract Ovyrm from his mental assault. Another opponent would have succumbed to the stunning mental bolt Dirge sent. But few could overcome the defenses of a fully trained Adjudicator.
Ovyrm let the aether in and his mind expanded. Dirge’s mental attack flowed over him like river water over a stone and Ovyrm parried the dagger strike with ease. He pushed his momentum into a kick to Dirge’s stomach. Pain and surprise tore across the smaller man’s face, before a cruel grin replaced them.
“Oh, Ovy, you’ve been holding back on me darling.”
“You are a traitor Dirge. And I am here
to pass judgment on you.”
“You sanctimonious jackanapes. Who are you to pass judgment on me? I know all about your Order and the Accords and how you’ve spit on them both.”
Shock crossed Ovyrm’s face. Few people on Korynn even suspected the Outer Realms existence, much less the laws and powers that governed them. How had this thief learned of these things?
Dirge grinned and launched a flurry of attacks. Ovyrm barely avoided the poisoned whirs of death. Dirge would know that Ovyrm was immune to the paralytic. He wasn't playing any longer. He was here to kill.
“You see it, don’t you?” Dirge said. “You sense the death dripping from my blades. Well, let me tell you a little story.”
Dirge danced left, then right and spun and stabbed. Ovyrm blocked the attacks, but only just. His counter attack sliced through cloth, but left flesh untouched.
“Deep in the desert of my homeland lives a spider. A tiny thing, so easily missed. Not like the giant monstrosities that the dark forests harbor. No, the Mother of Death is barely the size of a thumbnail, but it bears a gift unlike any other. A poison made of the distilled essence of all spheres.”
Dirge lunged again. Ovyrm ducked and rolled and felt the blade zip by his ear.
“Most poisons can be countered by their antipathetic magic. Life can cure death, death life,” Dirge said with a grin at his witticism. "But the mother of death mixes all spheres in her tiny crystalline body. A single drop of Mother’s Milk will bring the full power of every sphere to bear. No immunities can counter it. No antidote exists. You will feel as if you are on fire while you are drowning. Your breath torn from your lungs as your blood turns to dust.”
Dirge spun and threw a dagger at Ovyrm. A pulse of aether took control of Ovrym’s body tossing him aside before his mind was even aware what was happening, so attuned to the aether was Ovyrm.