Crimson Blade

by Corey Soreff

  But within the heartbeat that Sargath reached out to grab the elf, Tiirnil had also disappeared. Not only that, but in his wake he left a trapping ward. Sargath was standing right over a spell formation which was now crackling with power, holding the god within the circle. Such a spell could not hold the powerful God for more than a moment, but the seasoned warriors present took advantage of this surprise, and needed no more than a moment.

  The second the spell was activated, Sargath was attacked from every angle. The enormous God-given blade of Eucibous cut the God's leg again, making it through the Godwill which was being partly used to break out of the holding spell. Kuldric's warhammer blasted Sargath in the shoulder, sending shocks down his spine. Tiirnil stood across the arena, where he was still a capable fighter at a distance. Gripping his powerful staff, lightning bolts struck the God in the chest, invoking a smell of burning skin.

  Each of these attacks were indeed diminished by the Godwill, but they were still effective. Sargath's knees shook involuntarily, and he screamed in anger. The Godwill knocked all of them off their feet, sending his surrounding attackers sprawling away, and the holding spell was broken. Then two dagger appeared in each side of his neck.

  Sargath choked in pain, cursing himself for letting his guard down for even a second. Gripping the daggers, the wielders materialized. Rorik on one side, Ginin on the other. Ripping out their daggers and jumping back, Rorik smiled. We think alike, eh Shadow?

  As the others climbed to their feet, there was only one other that had been ready to attack again given the opportunity. Tiirnil had appeared in front of the God, staring him in the eyes as Sargath clutched his throat in pain and worked on healing his wounds.

  "Your agony pleases me." Tiirnil said softly. Then the fabled Staff of Yodea lunged forward, piercing through the weakened Godwill and into Sargath's chest.

  Sargath coughed up some blood, then grinned. "Do you really think you can kill me, elf?"

  "I learned from the best." Tiirnil responded. Then he spoke words of power, and the magic of the staff activated.

  Sargath's eyes went wide as realization dawned on him. "You! I'll.." His sentence was cut off as magical energy soared through his body, so much that it was emitting from his eyes and mouth. The God was fighting to stay alive, to heal himself quicker than his body was being destroyed. The light began to ease, and it seemed as if he might succeed. Then a dozen shurikens sunk into his skin from every direction, shurikens with explosive spells etched into the metal.

  Tiirnil vanished once again, and Sargath was rocked by explosions.

  When the smoke cleared, Sargath was still managing to work his healing magic. But it wasn't working fast enough, and the magic from the staff which was still lodged into his heart was getting stronger again. He ignored his horribly burned skin and focused on healing his organs, while simultaneously trying to stop the spell that was damaging him. Then six massive fireballs hit him from above, and it was too much. Tiirnil was levitating in the air above the arena, smiling.

  Then Sargath imploded, and the arena was consumed by magic.

  What was left of the cavalry was behind them in ruins; Jarec and Grymmbeard stopped for a moment staring ahead at the dragons.

  "This'll be one to remember, aye lad?" Grymmbeared nudged his friend.

  "Aye," Jarec answered.

  "I'm for guessin' this'll be a wee bit easier for yourself, given your blades and your new God." Grymmbeard chuckled. "So don't be thinkin' ye win if you take down more of 'em!"

  Jarec laughed. "Ready?" They charged forward, fifty dragons awaiting them.

  "Damn it!" Jarec yelled as he ran even faster. The dragons were taking to the air. Except they weren't flying towards the battle. They were flying away from it. Jarec and Grymmbeard stopped, exchanged glances, and shrugged. "

  "Whaddya make of that?" Grymmbeard asked.

  "Luck, I'm hoping." Jarec replied. Jarec loved a good fight, but fighting fifty dragons at once did not seem very appealing.

  "We'll find out, onward then!" Grymmbeard laughed, and they resumed their charge.

  Marcovius killed a soldier adjacent to him for no better reason than to appease his anger. The dragons had taken off just as two of their strongest opponents were closing in. Grinding his teeth in frustration, he picked up his shield and drew his sword. Eyes on the dwarf and man coming towards his camp, he began walking forward, directly at them. This is what happens when you rely on dragons. The halberd fighter will have to wait.

  Lok noticed the dragons retreat, wondering if his friends had somehow scared them away. I guess that's my cue to get the General. Whirling his spear in a circle, he cut down a score of enemy soldiers in one rotation, then began fighting his way towards the enemy commander. His blood was boiling, for he had heard this General was strong. Those two better not try to steal my prize.

  Another hundred knights fell within moments of Jorge's fall, and Thundrin braced himself as the storm headed his way. Smashing aside any goblins that got too close, he resolved to make use of his gift against the commander. He had watched as the battlemage Jorge was defeated within seconds, and although Thundrin hated relying on tricks, he could not take any chances. This battle was too important to his God.

  Then a hand fell on each of his shoulders, and next to him stood Velion and Dennas. They had also witnessed Jorge's demise. "Best if we do this together," said Dennas.

  "Can't go letting you have all the fun alone, eh?" Velion smirked.

  "Aye," answered Thundrin. "Let's not disappoint the crimson one."

  The three of them moved into a triangle formation, guarding one another's back. They had seen the amazing speed with which the commander got behind Jorge. It was...inhuman. Are all drow this fast? Velion wondered. No, impossible.

  Another fifty knights crumpled to the dirt in pieces, and Kol'thakal, King of the drow, stood before them. "How nice of you to gather to one spot for me. Save me the trouble." He stood almost six feet tall, exceptionally tall for a dark elf. His long platinum hair fell over his shoulders, resting on his well crafted onyx breastplate.

  Each of the champion's Gods shouted warnings into their minds. This drow had been killed before. This drow walked with a God.

  "Kol'thakal. King of the drow. Champion of the dishonorable Herreleck. Sorry, but your admirable skills won't be of much use anymore." Thundrin said. Negate. He prayed to Vorthas and the wave of magic negation swept the area. Zombies collapsed around them. Kol'thakal's body was still managing to stand, and Thundrin took a step forward to push it over...when it smiled.

  "Well, shit." said Velion. "Guess we're doing it the hard way."

  Kol'thakal laughed. "Did you really think defeating me would be as easy as negating magic? Unfortunately for you, I am not simply bound here by a spell. I have been risen from the dead. No zombie here, sorry." It was a more difficult method of necromancy, but surely one the Liche King was capable of. Especially with the gifts of Sargath.

  "Then let's get this over with!" Thundrin yelled.

  Kol'thakal was gone by the end of the sentence, and they felt something at their backs. Standing in between the three of them, resting in the midst of their formation, was the drow King. And resting on all three of their throats were his two scimitars, one of them across two throats, one of them on the other. "Be proud you died at the hands of a King," He said arrogantly.

  Eucibous, Kuldric, and Rorik stood outside the arena. Or what used to be the arena, anyway. Now it was merely a large heap of rubble. Eucibous had managed to get them out of there in time, but Ginin...

  "It's...finished?" Kuldric asked. Even though he had seen the whole thing, he couldn't believe it was over with him barely helping at all. He was meant for more than this.

  Eucibous's eyes narrowed and he shook his head. "Quite the opposite, it has only begun."

  "But Sargath, he's dead, right?" Kuldric asked.

  "Sargath is dead, yes." Eucibous answered.

  "But Seth'nerak is not," Rorik said.

&nbs
p; "It all makes sense now. Ginin was just a zombie, which I suspected from the beginning. But I wondered why a zombie would be assisting us." Eucibous said.

  "Then Seth'nerak..." Kuldric began, the information falling into place.

  "Used our help to kill Sargath, and lure him to the mortal plane. He animated Ginin's corpse, and stole Tiirnil's body for his own. The elf prince was never powerful enough to defeat a God." Eucibous said. "He waited in hiding for his chance to attack, which explains his absence from the battle so far."

  "So maybe...he'll leave now?" Kuldric asked.

  "Don't be naive," Eucibous answered. "This is his moment of glory. First he becomes a God, then he conquers Darnath. All in a day's work." I did not see this coming.

  Multiple battle reports flooded through his mind at once as the Gods continued to update him, and Eucibous erupted with random anger. Rorik and Kuldric struggled to stand as the Godwill went out of control, flooding out of Eucibous with abandon. First he had seen his best friend back from the grave, then watched him die again, along with thousands of innocent people in the stands of the arena. And now....now....

  Kol'thakal, the drow that had killed one of his closest friends, had returned. And many had already fallen to his blades. Being as strong as he was, Eucibous knew how dangerous one powerful warrior could be. The entire battle could be changed by the drow King.

  "Sorry, but I have something I need to do." Eucibous said with conviction, his fists clenched so tightly they bled. "Try not to die, I'll be back in no time."

  Eucibous was about to teleport to the battlefield with the undead, when someone tapped his shoulder. Looking behind him, he showed no emotion and turned to face the other way again. "I'll deal with you soon."

  The short drow, barely over five feet tall, stood behind Eucibous. Torn black robes with purple trim dragged on the ground, and ragged white hair looked like it hadn't been washed in years. Normally dark elves had skin that was nearly black, but this drow was more noticeably pale. No doubt from the trials he had been through. No doubt because he was a liche.

  "I'm afraid you'll be dealing with me now, Eucibous Dan'anti." Seth'nerak grimaced, showing rotten green teeth.

  Grymmbeard chuckled and ran his fingers through his beard. "Look at this lad, coming at us alone!"

  Jarec tensed. "Grymm, look at him. Is that...?"

  Squinting his eyes, Grymmbeared tried to get a good look at the man walking towards them. Black platemail, short brown hair, a prideful stride. That could have described any number of knights in the Dark Legions, but this man seemed different.

  Their suspicions were confirmed as Ahloong's voice bellowed throughout Jarec's head. That's their General! And a God walks with him!

  Jarec gripped his scimitars and smirked. "Grymm, that's Marcovius."

  Grymmbeard sighed. "Ah...fun it'll be...but Lok ain't gonna be happy."

  "Snooze you lose!" Laughed Jarec, and he spun his scimitars a few times in his hands.

  Just as Kol'thakal was about to finish off his three opponents, a crossbow bolt blasted him through the side of the head, dropping him to his knees. The three champions took advantage instantly and hopped out of range.

  Kol'thakal stood back on his feet, and grabbed the arrow lodged into his skull. Breaking off one end, he ripped the other end through his head, pulling it free. "Looks like you weaklings were spared for a few more moments. Who has come to play?"

  A zombie's head was lopped off nearby, and the body fell to the ground. Standing behind it was Ceric, covered in blood. Gripping sword and shield, he advanced towards the drow King. "You have killed many of my men, and for that, you will die."

  Kol'thakal laughed. "Die? I've died before, at the hands of someone much stronger than you. Plus, if you haven't noticed, it's a little hard to kill me now."

  Ceric wasn't fazed, and continued his advance.

  Kol'thakal was about to attack, when a thrown warhammer smashed into his kneecap. Turning to face Thundrin, the drow was then hit by a roundhouse kick to the head. The combination of Dennas's kick, the ki that supplemented it, and the superhuman strength given by his God knocked the God off his feet. Kol'thakal rolled a few feet, and began to stand up again when he began feeling devoid of energy.

  Struggling to stand, Kol'thakal cursed as Velion's life leech spell sapped away his lifeforce. It wouldn't be enough to stop him, but it was enough to slow him down. He had just managed to get to one knee when Thundrin appeared above him, falling out of the air and cracking him over the top of the head with a double hammer fist. The drow fell back to the dirt face first, and again began pushing himself up with what energy he could muster.

  "You underestimate humans. You may be stronger than each of us. But together..." Dennas began.

  "We are stronger," finished Ceric, who was now standing above the drow King. Ceric's shield fell to the ground, and he gripped his longsword with both hands. Facing it down at the drow as he struggled to push himself off the ground, he plunged his blade downwards through the drow's neck. Blood sprayed, and the blade went cleanly through and then lodged into the ground, leaving the drow stuck.

  Kol'thakal tried to yell in anger, the only noise that came out was the blood bubbling out of his throat. He grabbed at the blade under his neck, hoping to pull it out of the ground. But with his injuries and the active life leech spell he had no such luck.

  "Stupid humans...," started Kol'thakal. "I'll kill all of you!"

  Ceric shook his head. "On the contrary, you'll be the one dying today. Again." Ceric knelt on the ground in front of the drow, and clasped his hands in prayer. Anania's gift normally allowed her champion to heal allies, but healing spells were known to affect the undead in an opposite manner.

  A ray of blinding light fell down from the heavens, enveloping the drow. Kol'thakal screamed in agony, the evil within him that kept him "alive" being dismantled and destroyed. The drow King could deal with the pain. He could deal with dying. But it pained him more than anything to think of the hell he would be returning to, the torture Sargath would put him through again. A tear manifested and ran down his cheek, the light left his eyes, and his body turned to dust.

  "If you want to fight, let's do this already." Stated Eucibous.

  "Ah, but where's the fun in that?" Asked Seth'nerak. "After all, I've spent sixty years preparing to fight you."

  Eucibous wondered if the drow had a horrible sense of time or if he was just stupid. "Sixty years? You were brought back twenty years ago."

  Seth'nerak grinned, then laughed. "Twenty years for you!" The Liche King had spent forty years training outside the borders of time and space. "I have more experience than you do, in actuality."

  Eucibous wondered at his meaning, but decided it didn't matter. "I don't care how long you've trained." He was getting excited. He had been waiting a long time for this, also. Ever since Gurnac first told him of the liche's resurrection, he was been anticipating this day. This battle. For nothing pleased Eucibous more than a good fight. He thought he'd have the fight of a lifetime when Sargath appeared, and now the liche had proven stronger than Sargath himself. Eucibous smiled.

  He noticed his carelessness just in time, and immediately summoned his sturdy stone skin covering his back. Ginin appeared behind him and he struck at the back of Eucibous's neck, his dagger hitting the stone skin and bouncing off. Hopping backwards, Ginin vanished once again.

  Eucibous looked at Rorik and nodded.

  Rorik beamed, his entire life's efforts being rewarded. Rorik also became one with the shadows, and the duel of assassins began.

  "Let's just kill him and get this over with," Kuldric said.

  Eucibous cracked his knuckles and laughed with pleasure. "Sorry, kid! This fight is mine!"

  "Perhaps you should accept his aid," suggested Seth'nerak. He smirked, then his hand shot forward.

  Expecting him to cast a spell, Eucibous prepared to defend at a moment's notice. But no spell came. Instead, he looked down as his chest dripped with his own blood
. Seth'nerak's hand was protruding from under his left shoulder. He looked forward again, and noticed half of the liche's arm was missing.

  "What the...," Eucibous began. Then he lurched in pain as the hand was pulled back through his flesh, ripping muscle and cartilage along the way.

  The Liche King laughed.

  What the hell was that? Eucibous wondered. He placed his hand over his wound, and seared the wound shut with weak spell of fire. The bleeding would stop, but the pain would remain. Moving his left arm wouldn't be as easy. Perhaps I should make healing my next field of spells to study. Then he joined in the liche's laughter.

  "I don't see why you're laughing. First blood is mine." Seth'nerak gloated.

  "Because!" Eucibous yelled with a wide grin. "I have been wounded!" He continued laughing loudly. "Finally!" Then his face became a serious one, and he narrowed his eyes and focused on his enemy. "A foe worth killing."

  Marcovius was close to them now, only a little further. He stopped, looking over his opponents. A dwarf and a human, both wearing heavy crimson platemail with the tabard of the Crimson Blade. The dwarf carried a large battleaxe, typical. The man carried two scimitars radiating with magical energy, enchanted no doubt. The human had a large scar from the top of his eye to below his mouth on the other side, coming across his nose in the middle.

  "Jarec and Grymmbeard, of the Crimson Blade, I take it?" Marcovius yelled out in inquiry.

  "Aye!" Returned the dwarf, and they ran at him.

  "Then die," Marcovius whispered to himself.

  The General of the Dark Legions held his large black shield adorned with deadly spiked in his left hand. But he did not yet hold his blade in his right.

  Jarec and Grymmbeard wondered at this briefly, then they realized why.