The griffon fell in a heap, taking its rider down with it.
Two Elks wasted no time and jumped up onto the still thrashing creature. If he was lucky, the dwarf would be pinned beneath it.
The dwarf was there, but had somehow already disengaged from the saddle and was spinning away from the griffon's death throws.
Two glints of steel flashed from the spinning dwarf right before Two Elks felt the first knife thud into his shoulder. He barely got his kite shield in front of the second knife which bit into it with a wooden thud.
“So, I'll get to see what you northern barbarians are made of then?” The lean dark haired dwarf said. “You will pay for my mount with your life, human.”
It had taken a defensive stance and squinted up at Two Elks, waiting for his charge.
Two Elks had never known a culler to throw knives. He pulled the knife from his shoulder and examined it before dropping it to the ground.
He hopped down from the now unmoving griffon and banged his axe against his shield.
“You skinny for dwarf,” Two Elks said. He kept his shield before him in case the dwarf had any more knives hidden away.
The dwarf only shook his head and shifted from one defensive stance to another.
Two Elks charged in, raising his axe above his head in what appeared to be an all-out frontal attack.
At the last second, Two Elks shifted his weight and pulled up on the attack, moving to the side. He was too experienced to charge into an unknown opponent.
Had he continued forward, he would have felt the bite of another dagger, followed by a parting blow from the dwarf's hammer as the culler spun away from the attack. As it was, the dagger spun off into the mists.
This one was fast for a dwarf and did not depend on his strength in battle. Two Elks nodded his appreciation.
Dwarven hammer met wooden shield and Two Elks accepted the blows as he pressed forward, angling the shield so only a small portion of the attack was absorbed.
Two Elks knew his people's refusal to embrace the tools of the dwarves left him at a disadvantage. His wooden kite shield was no match against a steel hammer no more than his stone axe could break through the dwarf's armor. Likewise, his stone axe, though huge, would eventually crack against the dwarf's plate armor. Sheer strength would not win this fight.
Two Elks rushed in with another downward swing, but only put half his strength behind the blow, instead pushing off to the side and using his shield to bash the side stepping dwarf.
The slippery dwarf accepted the blow and rolled up close to the shield, spun down and to the side, catching Two Elks in the thigh with a quick jab of the hammer's handle.
Two Elks stumbled when his leg buckled and tried to bring his shield around to fend off the follow up attack he knew would be coming.
A sharp crack and cursing greeted him instead.
He spun around to see the dwarf falling back to put some distance between them, his hand over his face, blood pouring out from beneath it.
Gaidel moved up next to Two Elks, her staff before her.
“The big thing was too tempting a target,” she said.
The dwarf spat onto the ground and rolled his shoulders, adjusting the hammer in his grip.
“A barbarian and a druid, then. Fine by me,” the dwarf said through blood stained teeth.
A wall of flame erupted from the ground between them and rose well above their heads.
“And a sorcerer, it would seem,” Riff said, stepping up next to Gaidel and Two Elks.
As the wall of flame died, they could just see the outline of the culler as he retreated into the mists.
Maybe Two Elks would make an effective warband out of this group yet.
“Runs fast for a dwarf,” Riff said as if he was commenting on the weather.
“Where were you?” Gaidel said, spinning on him.
“The other culler. Where is the other one? And Dagbar for that matter?”
“We lost Dagbar, but the other culler followed Ghile into the tower,” Gaidel said.
“Lost him? Wait,” Riff said, looking around. “Where are the fallen?”
Two Elks realized the sorcerer was right. This was the first time since entering the mists that the fallen had not attacked them for so long a time.
“Must go tower,” Two Elks said, already searching through the mists. He saw a flash of light and headed in that direction. It appeared and disappeared many times before the three of them were close enough to see why.
A lone griffon fought a losing battle against a tide of fallen that fought desperately to get past it and into the tower.
“Is there another way in?” Gaidel said.
Riff lifted his everflame. “I could clear that one.”
“No,” Two Elks said. “Griffon keep fallen out. Help Ghile.”
“We need to find another way in. Hurry,” Gaidel said.
They made their way around the side of the tower. The rubble was thick around the base and covered in the pervasive slime. Some areas were piled well above their heads.
From within the tower, Two Elks could hear muffled explosions. He worried what they would find if they did discover a way in.
“Alright, I give up. What is that?” Riff said.
The sorcerer stopped and was pointing at something that had just shambled out of a section of the rubble a short distance ahead of them. It looked like a fallen, but unlike the sleek fast moving creatures they had encountered up until now, this one moved upright with a slow awkward gait. It was incredibly fat, its skin stretched to bursting over its bulging form.
They stood there watching as another emerged behind it.
“Look, there are others,” Gaidel said, pointing off into the mists.
The bloated fallen didn't move to attack them and seemed to be moving away from the tower.
The sorcerer shrugged after a moment and hurled one of his fireballs at the silhouette of one of the bulbous creatures, little more than an outline in the mists. They all followed the flaming sphere as it arced towards the distant creature.
On impact, the fireball's explosion was nothing compared to the explosion that followed. Black fluid and mist flew in every direction. No sooner had the first fallen exploded than the one nearest it vibrated and also burst apart in another equally large spray of dark fluids, then another, each one closer to them than the last.
“Oh, crap,” Riff said.
“Down,” Two Elks shouted as he moved to shelter the others behind his shield.
As pieces of the closest fallen rained down around them, a horrid stench followed.
After a moment of silence, they all slowly rose.
“Do you hear that?” Riff said from behind the hand that covered his mouth and nose.
Two Elks turned his shield over at the strange sizzling sound. He hurriedly freed his hand from the straps and threw it to the ground.
Where the black ichor had landed on his shield, it appeared to be eating its way through. The blackened gouges that riddled the shield slowly creeped outward as the substance that had exploded from the bloated fallen consumed the wood.
All three stared at the shield as it blackened and began to break apart. Two Elks examined his axe handle and then, satisfied it was untouched, turned to stare at Riff with a look that promised pain.
“Sorry?” Riff said. He took a half step behind Gaidel.
“It does not eat the stone, just the wood,” Gaidel said as she looked around them.
“Do not attack anymore of those things.” She pointedly looked at Riff as she said it.
Riff held up his hands. “Okay, okay.”
“At least we might have found a way in,” Gaidel said.
Flames licked Ghile's heels as he leaped away from the explosion. He heard stone crack and fall behind him.
“You are too late, Ghile Stonechosen! Too late!”
The man in the center of the tower, who Ghile could only assume was Ashar hurled another ball of flame from the end of his everflame eng
ulfed staff.
Ghile had no sooner landed on a portion of the stone stairs climbing the outer wall than he had to leap away again to avoid another fiery blast. He soared across the huge circular room and landed on the stairs on that side. The portion of stairs he had just left gave way and fell to the floor in a shower of stone and debris.
Ashar had barely given him time to react since he entered the room. He needed a moment to take in his surroundings and clear his head.
The intense pull of the soulstones clouded his thoughts. With no distance or walls between him and the two stones, the raw desire assaulted him. He knew both stones were down there next to Ashar. The desire to have them was so strong, he just needed a moment to think and get them out of his head.
Ghile leaped higher up into the tower and landed on a stony ledge. He backed away from the edge and brought his force shield up before him and anchored it under the edge beneath him and then up above his head and into the wall. He curved the shield out like a bubble so he could peer over.
Glaring up at him, Ashar stood in the center of the room amidst a chaotic scattering of tables and benches. Every surface was covered with things Ghile had never seen. But, it was what was next to Ashar that temporarily made him forget about the soulstones.
An armored dwarf stood beside the sorcerer, a culler's two handed hammer in his hands, guarding Ashar.
Why would a culler be guarding Ashar?
The little of the dwarf's skin Ghile could see was pale like the fallen. Its head was completely covered in some odd circular helmet that didn't match the rest of its rust stained armor. Ghile didn't think the dwarf could even see out of the thing.
“My sister is here, Stonechosen!” Ashar screamed, gesturing near his feet. “Your beloved! Think you can save her? Do you?”
Ghile could feel the hatred in the man's voice.
“Only I can save her! You cannot have her, do you hear me?”
Ashar launched another fireball towards him.
Ashar's fireballs were much bigger than Riff's. They were easily the size of Ghile's head.
Ghile instinctively drew back as the fireball exploded just beneath him. The shelf he rested on shook and debris bounced off his force shield. The wall around him shuddered and he watched dust drizzled down around him snow.
Ghile wasn't sure how many spells like that this ruined tower could take.
He chanced another look over the edge and his heart broke.
On the other side of Ashar were three low stone mounds with the top stones removed to reveal the cavity within them. One of the mounds held the pale desiccated remains of a vargan. The other, a human woman. She too was little more than pale skin stretched over bones.
Ghile could hear Almoriz's voice. “Do not think this makes you immortal, Ghile Stonechosen. If you do not eat or drink, you will waste away like any of us, but you will not die. I would hate to experience such a fate.”
He knew it was Akira. He thought of her when she appeared in the Dreaming, how beautiful she was there.
Ghile almost released his shield and fell forward then. The shock of seeing her down there pale and shriveled like that was almost more than he could take.
The feelings of desire for the soulstones crashed into feelings of helplessness to save Akira from her fate. Beneath all the other warring emotions, an ache he had never put to words churned them all together and pushed up to be recognized.
He loved her.
Dagbar appeared on the stairs near the tunnel entrance.
“Ashar, stop this,” Dagbar said.
Ghile watched as Ashar stood there transfixed at the sight of the dwarf.
Dagbar shook his head, the pain evident on his face as he looked down on the sorcerer.
“Stop this?” Ashar threw the words at Dagbar like a dagger.
“You started this, dwarf! You and your lies!”
Ashar gestured at Akira's mummified body.
“This is your fault!” Ashar said. “Everything! Everything that has happened is your fault!”
He launched a fireball towards Dagbar, who dove headlong off the stairs before it reached him. The stone stairs buckled and collapsed from the power of the explosion.
“And everything that is going to happen will be your fault, as well,” Ashar said.
“You are too late, dwarf! In bringing the stonechosen here, you have given me the power I need to send forth my greatest creations! The bloaters will destroy the elves who dare attack me and then the Deepwood! Those that survive will destroy your precious settlement and all those stupid enough to believe your lies!”
With that Ashar shot a gout of flame at the area of the laboratory where Dagbar had landed. Black smoke billowed from the explosions of various potions and elixirs that burst and spewed their bubbling contents into the air.
“It is unfortunate that you will not be alive to see it!”
The tower shook violently and more debris rained down around them.
Now was Ghile's chance. He searched the ledge for anything he could use, but on finding nothing drew the fangblade. Ghile dropped his force shield and with a mental push, the fangblade launched down towards Ashar.
He watched the weapon race straight towards the sorcerer.
At the last second, the culler's hammer lashed out and deflected the fangblade, sending it spinning away.
Ashar jumped at the movement and returned his attention to Ghile, a triumphant smile on his face.
“Nothing can save you, stonechosen. Soon you will be here next to the others,” Ashar said.
Did Ashar think the stonechosen would remain there forever, fueling his magic? Didn't he know they would die when Haurtu's prison was no longer near Allwyn?
A roar filled the tower as a second culler leaped from Gaidel's tunnel. Ghile recognized the Knight Justice who had tried to kill him back in the Cradle by his helmet, shaped like the face of a screaming dwarf. He was the one who had destroyed Last Hamlet and killed Ast and Cuz.
In that moment, Ghile couldn't see how he was going to survive this, but if he could take that dwarf with him, it would be worth it.
Finngyr crashed down amidst burning tables and exploding glass. He hit the floor running, his hammer leaving a blue tail of light trailing behind him.
He had heard the explosion and seen Dagbar right before the end of the tunnel was filled with flame and debris. He knew he needed to move and keep moving. Most of all, he needed to find the stonechosen.
He searched the room for the whelp but saw no signs of him or whatever remained of Dagbar. The human lover got what he deserved as far as Finngyr was concerned.
Through the fire and smoke Finngyr saw a lone human in the center of the large room. He was obviously a sorcerer by the flaming staff he held and likely the cause of all the explosions. To think these abominations walked free, harmless indeed. The idiot was going to bring the whole tower down on their heads. He would need to be dealt with first.
“In Daomur's name all here die!” Finngyr roared as he charted a path through the debris and headed towards the sorcerer.
The sorcerer's face went ashen and he swung his staff down and pointed it towards Finngyr. A ball of flame appeared and raced in his direction.
Finngyr had already called upon mighty Daomur to bestow his blessings upon his humble servant and enhance his strength. Finngyr could feel the holy power surging through him. This sorcerer's fire was not going to sway him from his righteous path.
Finngyr raised his hammer before him and beseeched Daomur for protection. Where flame met hammer, the blue radiance arced out in a protective barrier. Finngyr could feel the heat of the flames around the edges of the magical shield, see the nearby tables hurled back from the force of the explosion, but he never slowed.
“Stop him! Kill him, Griff!” the sorcerer yelled as he hobbled back away from Finngyr's charge.
He recognized the name, but didn't have time to puzzle out why the human would call for help from a knight justice, before a dwarf lunged out o
f the smoke and barreled right into Finngyr.
He just had time to brace himself to receive the charge. The two came together like a thunderclap. He felt his very bones vibrate. If not for Daomur's blessings and enhanced strength, he didn't think he would have had the strength to hold his ground.
“In his holy name, what are you doing?” Finngyr shouted at the other dwarf.
They stood there, hammer handle against hammer handle, their corded muscles straining, neither able to overpower the other.
Finngyr would have locked eyes with the other dwarf, but his blackened helmet had no opening. It looked more like an iron kettle than a helmet.
The hammer the dwarf held was similar to Finngyr's, and the armor was that of a knight of his order, but rusted and unkempt. The dwarf's skin was pale and ashen, black bulging veins crisscrossed it like vines on stone.
“Knight Justice Griff?” Could this truly be the Knight Lord Knight Justice Gyldoon spoke of?
An echoing gurgle was the only response Finngyr received before Griff broke off the test of strength and went on the offensive, raining blows down on Finngyr.
The stance and attacks were ones Finngyr recognized, and he knew this was indeed a knight from his order, but what had they done to him.
The idea that this had been done to a dwarf was horrendous enough, but to one of Finngyr's order? That a hammer of his order, a holy relic, was being used to protect a human?
Finngyr fell into a defensive routine and gave ground under the attacks. He didn't have time to size up his opponent and find a weakness.
He was going to wait for the attacks to slow, but they didn't. Griff just kept coming, one attack routine rolling into another.
He didn't have time to waste, he let a blow through his defenses.
The strength behind it was unquestionable and Finngyr gritted his teeth through the pain.
But, he had his opening and used the momentum of the blow to spin to the side and deliver an attack of his own.
His attack landed soundly with the satisfying crunch of bone. The blow sent Griff stumbling to the side. It should have sent him to the ground.
Time of the Stonechosen (The Soulstone Prophecy Book 2) Page 34