by Jeff Inlo
The plumes of choking haze followed their prey, even as a widening ring of spinning shadow encircled the city. The darowks were relentless in both their pursuit and their search. They swept through every attic and every basement, across every back alley and side street. They swarmed over Connel with the single craving to punish the humans for killing one of their own.
Scheff heard the screams. They raged out from all over the city, soul rendering cries of absolute terror. The shrieks turned to coughs, and then gasps. He could hear hundreds of Connel's residents choking on the sooty bodies of the darowks.
"How far are they from us?" Scheff asked, more out of curiosity than fear. He believed he could determine the distance by the echoes of the human coughs, but he wished to be certain.
"They are still several of these city streets away. They are moving towards us, but slowly. It appears they are more inclined to cover other sections, flowing much more quickly to the north and east."
"They are leaving us until last," Scheff noted.
Haven agreed but said nothing.
Once the darowks descended upon the city, Ryson, Jure and Dzeb abandoned any need to protect the half-demon in the crossroads. There was no sane reason to continue their watch. The smoke demons had entered Uton and another infern's death wouldn't add to Connel's plight. The three moved toward the party of elves to find Enin and Ansas arguing over their next move.
"We can't just stand here!" Enin growled.
"You wish to attack the serp?" Ansas questioned. "Alone you have no chance."
"Then we have to work together."
"By all means, let us combine our energy, exhaust ourselves and allow Gnafil the opportunity to confine us the moment he arrives."
"So we do nothing?"
Ansas grimaced. He did not wish to submit, but he could find no answer in the surrounding mayhem. Each time he glared at Macheve, the serp smiled at him, dared him to attack. He knew Reiculf wanted him to squander his energy, but if they waited, their situation would only worsen. Gnafil would appear at any moment. When both of Reiculf's slaves were in position, they would take their prey by force.
Ryson ignored the sorcerer and pleaded with Enin instead.
"The darowks are overrunning the city," the delver exclaimed. "You can sweep them away, can't you?"
"No!" Ansas intervened. "We can not waste his power."
"Then what would you have me do?" Enin demanded. "You won't let me attack Macheve. We both know what is going to happen when Gnafil arrives. If we can't save ourselves, at least let me save Connel."
"Save Connel? You will end up destroying it! Waste your power against darowks and you guarantee the daokiln's victory. Once you are under Reiculf's control, what will he have you do to the city? Will it comfort you to save Connel from smoke demons only to destroy it under your own boot?"
Enin shook his head in both sorrow and disgust. He could no longer argue with the sorcerer. He turned his attention directly to the serp.
"Macheve! You want me? Take me. I will submit, but you must promise to spare the city."
The serp laughed, and though she conveyed the daokiln's wishes, Reiculf had receded into her deeper consciousness, allowed Macheve to take the reigns of battle. She spoke in her own hypnotic voice.
"I will have you whether you submit or not, and I will make no deals with you, even to gain your willing surrender. There will be no mistakes this time."
"You see?" Ansas questioned. "They are prepared for us."
Enin remained at a loss. His city was being overrun while Macheve refused to initiate any direct assault. The wizard possessed the power to obliterate an army of monsters, but he stood helpless on the darkened street.
While Enin struggled with uncertainty, Jure lashed out with frustration.
"So we just give up and die?" the older wizard intervened.
"There is a great difference between doing something idiotic and waiting for an opportunity." Ansas stated harshly. "If you would rather actively seek death, go right ahead."
Jure's emotions boiled over, but he did not focus his wrath upon the sorcerer. A circle of pure white magic rose up over his head and with one great heave, he thrust a wave of force directly at the serp.
Macheve did not move. Three distorted and colorless rings emerged from her own body and met the wizard's attack before it reached her. The blast shook the surrounding buildings as dirt and debris exploded at the point of impact.
Jure would not relent. He cast another spell, but this time his ring of pure white turned a deep blue. A torrent of water strong enough to crush rock erupted from the ground in the form of a geyser. The wizard deftly directed the gushing flow toward Macheve, and it poured down upon the serp like a mighty hammer.
Macheve barely raised a finger, but the colorless magic bent to her instructions. The water turned to steam before it reached her, and the hot vapor hissed violently up into the sky.
Enin attempted to join in the fray, but Ansas grabbed him.
"Let him attack on his own," the sorcerer whispered firmly. "It may be our only chance."
"No! We all have to help him. Maybe we can break through her defenses."
"The serp is not the threat," Ansas maintained, still in a whisper. "If she was, she would have just taken you. No, there is something else at play here."
"Something else?"
"Ask yourself this; why hasn't Gnafil appeared?"
"What?" Enin asked, clearly baffled by the question.
"Gnafil!" Ansas repeated. "He should be here. Macheve can see us, which means Reiculf is aware of our position. The half-demon could have teleported to this spot in an instant. We should be caught between both his pawns, but we are not."
Enin looked down both ends of the street, but there was no sign of the infern. Ansas was correct. Gnafil wouldn't have to follow the teleportation trail. With Macheve aware of their location, the half-demon could enter the battle without delay. If Reiculf wanted to place them in a vice of his power, he had the opportunity, but for some reason, they faced only one of the daokiln's slaves.
"Maybe it's the mistake we hoped for," Enin wondered aloud.
"Reiculf would not make this kind of mistake. This is a deliberate action. He wants us to attack Macheve."
"But I thought that was your plan... to fight just one of them. We have that opportunity now."
"Not when that's what Reiculf wants us to do! Something is wrong here. He is giving us false hope... or maybe he is biding for time." Ansas gazed back over the streets to the south and considered the smoky shadows engulfing the city. "This may be more about the darowks than us."
"Why would he bother?" Enin demanded.
"I don't know!" Ansas growled, his voice growing louder with his frustration. He quickly gathered himself and returned to a lower tone. "I'm trying to understand it, but it makes no logical sense. I'm only certain we should not give Reiculf what he wants, and he's goading us into a battle with Macheve. Better to let Jure lash out and conserve our strength."
Ryson, with his keen hearing, heard the whispers. He considered what he could offer. He had wondered if he should attempt to distract Macheve. He knew he could run circles around the serp, but he wasn't sure that would help their cause.
If Ansas was right, Reiculf wanted diversions, perhaps needed time for some other diabolical ploy. Entering the clash without a clear objective was a mistake, and a mistake against a daokiln was not one that could be easily overcome.
More than ever, Ryson felt vulnerable simply standing still. It was not natural for any delver, but the conflict was a magical battle, a fight on a scale well beyond his skills. He wondered if he even belonged there, a misgiving that seemed to grow until he saw the cliff behemoth.
Dzeb did not move. The giant stood stone still, silently watching the battle. The behemoth could have used his enormous strength to break apart the surrounding buildings and throw walls of rock and wood at the serp, but he remained detached from the fray, as if waiting for some spiritual guidance
.
The cliff behemoth's behavior mystified the delver. He wondered if Dzeb was waiting for Godson to save Connel, or simply accepting the presence of evil which was so prevalent in the land. Ryson believed either prospect was just as possible, but that only made the behemoth's behavior even more confusing. He could not comprehend how such a powerful being could surrender himself to the whims of a faith that seemed so contradictory.
When Dzeb initially arrived at Ryson's home, the giant said he was there to retrieve him because it was Godson's will. Ryson could not accept that reason alone, as he did not share the same convictions. He looked for something more, and he had found it.
Back in the armory of Burbon, his path had been set. He had received direction from the Sword of Decree. That message had rang clear, and recalling it, he no longer doubted whether or not he should be there. He was prepared to fight against evil, and though he had no idea how to battle the daokiln, he believed he had a way to attack the darowks.
"I'm going after the smoke demons," Ryson whispered after moving to Enin's side, and then he looked to Ansas to emphasize his beliefs. "You said it didn't matter what I did, whether I came with you or not, but my sword told me to go to Connel. I'm supposed to be here. You do what you have to in order to stop Macheve. I'll take care of the darowks."
#
Neltus sat alone in the corner of the Borderline Inn. In the middle of the day, not many residents of Burbon were looking to spend time in a tavern, especially one that the ill-mannered wizard had established as his home. Even though he curbed his outlandish antics and juvenile behavior, most of Burbon's citizens were still not ready to accept him as one of their own.
The wizard didn't really hold it against them. He was more concerned with his own mixed feelings. He was exceedingly grateful to be left alone in Burbon, even happier not to be in Connel. He believed Ansas was right. He was certain that Enin's city would become a war zone, and he wanted no part of a fight with Reiculf.
He felt extremely safe in Burbon. He wasn't sure why. He heard stories, of course, tales of the dead captain returning in spirit form to protect the town. He had left Burbon before the thrastil attacked, so he never saw the warrior ghost. He knew it was possible, he had experienced far stranger things in his travels. Demons, spirits, magic; it was all becoming so common across Uton.
Despite the aura of security, he remained an outsider, and that same protective spirit might turn on him if he brought any mischief to Burbon. He was warned to behave, but he didn't know if he could. He wondered how long he could bury his tendencies to cause trouble. Would boredom spark an error in judgment, or would his arrogance lead to an irrevocable mistake?
The question haunted him, and he feared the potential answer. He didn't dislike himself, hardly ever felt real shame, but he knew he could be more than a simple pest. He accepted his faults. He was a braggart and a louse, and he was always more concerned with his own comforts than other people's needs.
He had been called a coward and wouldn't argue, but in a certain fashion, he was as brave as any of Burbon's soldiers. He had to be, otherwise the energy within him would have destroyed him.
He was connected to Uton in a way few could ever comprehend. He could sculpt the land into anything he wanted, pull strength from every rock and stone. Every grain of dirt empowered him, just as each one bent to his will. The land fed his essence with magic that was potent and heavy, not like the air or water. He believed his red energy was the strongest of all the natural hues.
And yet, he could never take full hold of the power at his command. He believed if he did, it would overwhelm him, crush him into the soil and make him part of the land which fed him with the deep crimson energy.
And so, there he sat, alone in a tavern and more powerful than any other citizen of a town where he sought sanctuary. Yet with all that power, he was nothing more than a vagabond, hoping the citizens of Burbon wouldn't set him out into the wilderness; send him out to a most disturbing fate.
He took another gulp of ale but regretted swallowing. He needed to maintain control and too much ale wasn't going to help. It would only lead him to the mistake he feared. He pushed away the mug and cursed.
As if to punctuate his misgivings, Gnafil appeared before him. The appearance of the infern surprised Neltus beyond measure. He never believed Reiculf would risk sending one of his slaves to Burbon, not with so much at stake.
"Sitting alone, languishing in self pity?" the half-demon asked.
"You're the one who is going to need pity if you stay here," Neltus warned, strangely confident that the infern could not take him against his will, at least not in Burbon.
The half-demon actually confirmed the crimson wizard's claim.
"I am aware of what I face, and thus, I have little time to argue with you. This town is protected by a guardian spirit, but you are not. While I cannot take you here, eventually, you will fall. Leave now and it will be easier on you. Force the master to wait and take you against your will, and you will pay dearly."
"So you're giving me a choice?"
"I am, as is the spirit protector. Otherwise, he would have already appeared. The ghost captain is aware of my presence, but he leaves you to your own designs."
"But you still can't take me by force, can you? The spirit won't let you."
The infern would not respond, so Neltus pushed for more information.
"Why are you coming to me now? They're all in Connel; Enin, Scheff, Shantree. You must know that."
"We do. We know exactly where they are, and that has allowed us this opportunity. You are alone, and though protected in this town, you still have the ability to choose your path. It will make it easier for us if you come along willingly. You can come to Connel and our victory will be assured."
"So it's all up to me?"
"Not entirely. There are always external circumstances. We will win at Connel whether you help us or not. We were just hoping you would make it easier for all involved. As for you, how long can you stay in this town? How long will they allow you to remain?"
"As long as I like."
Gnafil hissed with disgust.
"These humans? They are consumed with order. They will not tolerate your antics. You are not one of them."
"Maybe not, but as long as I don't bother them, they won't bother me."
"And how long can that possibly last?" Gnafil asked with a snicker. "You—the annoying wizard who takes so much joy in irritating others—you have always been the grit in someone else's mouth."
Neltus almost argued, but he could not cast off the understanding of his own personality. He knew he would not be happy in Burbon, not indefinitely. It offered sanctuary, but it came at a price. He realized he did have to make a choice. It wasn't as easy as he thought it might be, but it also wasn't that difficult.
"You're right," the wizard admitted. "I don't like this town, but becoming Reiculf's slave is worse. If I have to choose between the two, I'll stay here."
"You do not sound convincing," Gnafil snarled.
"I don't have to convince you. I just have to convince myself, and maybe that spirit that walks this town."
As if being summoned, the tavern filled with light, and the spirit of Sy Fenden appeared between the infern and the wizard. The apparition did not speak, but it glared at the half-demon.
Gnafil stepped back, allowed for greater space between itself and the ghost captain. He sneered, but made no move to attack. Despite the near limitless power at his disposal, the infern knew it could not triumph against the spirit guardian. Just before Gnafil cast a spell to escape, the half-demon offered one last proposition to the wizard.
"When you grow weary of this place, simply leave. The master will be waiting for you just beyond the gate."
With nothing else to say, the half-demon created a ring of amber fire and directed the magic to transport him out of Burbon.
The apparition did not leave, and it did not turn to face the wizard. Instead, the ghost of Sy Fenden stared
patiently at the door, which soon opened.
Captain Klusac stepped into the tavern but immediately stopped upon seeing the spirit at the center of the inn. He nodded once, then twice, and finally responded to a voice no one could hear but him.
"I'll tell him."
The spirit vanished, and Klusac walked over to the wizard. The captain looked Neltus dead in the eye, and once again offered a clear assessment of the situation.
"Sy told me what happened. You chose to stay here for your protection, and we will protect you during this conflict."
"During the conflict?" Neltus asked. "That sounds as if there's going to be some conclusion to all of this. Does your ghost captain believe there will be an end?"
"He knows it."
"Really? That's odd. I didn't think there was a possible end to Reiculf."
"I don't know about that. I just know what he said. The conflict is reaching a critical point. While he's happy you decided to stay, he wants you to know that changing your mind is no longer an option. If you take one step beyond the walls that surround Burbon, it will be your last."
"Not a very friendly spirit."
"He's not your friend. Oh, and it's not simply a matter of stepping through a gate or climbing the wall. If you think you can just teleport out of here, think again. He won't allow it. He even recommended you give it a try."
Neltus found the claim intriguing, but he had no desire to test the spirit, or to put himself in a vulnerable situation.
"That's okay, I don't want to leave."
"You don't get it. He was rather insistent. He said you should attempt the spell, and he wouldn't hold it against you. I wouldn't upset him if I were you. Try to teleport out of here. You can always return, but it won't be necessary, you're not going anywhere."
Neltus didn't like the idea at all. Gnafil had confirmed he was safe in Burbon. Teleporting out of the town was inviting trouble. Still, he could not dismiss the warning of the guard captain. Klusac could somehow communicate with the spirit, and it seemed as if Sy Fenden wanted him to test a teleportation spell. If he angered the apparition, he risked his expulsion. It appeared he might be doomed either way.