Tales of Fantasy, Fables, and Fiction

by Thomas H. Tribble

  After receiving several wounds, Maewyn was beginning to fatigue. Activity in the rest of the room was evident, but it was clear that this was one beast she could not fell on her own. Then, she dropped her head lightly under the creature's swiping claws and cleaved its breast cavity open with a perfect thrust. It certainly was going to regret this day! The Lich retaliated in kind by grasping her right arm and ripping a chunk of flesh from it. The Elf maiden collapsed in pain allowing the creature a moment to gloat. "And now, Elf, you will die." It raised his clawed hand and it began to glow with an unholy light. One of the preternatural abilities endemic to all of its kind is Paralysis as well as a Life Force Drain which it seemed to be able to do even in an Anti-Magic environment. Maewyn was grasping her useless arm and trying to stave off shock. It was all she could do to watch her doom unfold before her. All the Lich had to do was grasp her firmly and her body would become useless to her; permanently.

  Nostromo took a different approach to engaging his new nemesis. Instead of trying to keep up with a nimble, eight stone Elf, he decided to let his axe do his running. He saw Maewyn dash behind Kyliodious so he took a step forward, wound up his entire body, and cast his axe at the Man's chest plate. The axe made a deep swoosh through the air towards its target. Unfortunately for Kyliodious, the staircase he was on was too narrow to allow him an escape route. The axe struck him and buried itself into his armor.

  Kyliodious was injured certainly, but his exquisite armor had absorbed much of the damage and shock of the blow. He decided to let his Master kill the girl on his own and, with the axe embedded in his chest plate, he strode down the stairs and stood in front of Nostromo. He smiled thinly as he pulled the axe free and said, "You have managed to disarm yourself. Now I think I will mount your head next to your axe above my mantel. It might begin to smell a bit, but you get used to certain things when serving a Lich."

  Nostromo mirrored the smile on the Man's face and snapped his fingers. The axe appeared in his hand and he said the words, "Also a family heirloom." Kyliodious seemed genuinely surprised for an instant and Gomer seized the opportunity to leap out from behind the staircase and stab at the Man's side with the jeweled dagger he had gotten from the Man's own stash.

  The dagger did strike armor and it did pierce a small bit of flesh. But, Kyliodious was quick to turn to meet the Rogue's attack. He reached his arm around Gomer's and pulled him close. In an uncustomary act, Gomer seemed to engage the Man and try to grapple with him. He was unsuccessful at what seemed to be a desperate attempt to throw or tackle his unnaturally strong opponent and, with little effort, the Rogue was tossed backward away from Kyliodious. Gomer managed an acrobatic flip of sorts and landed on his feet ripping his short sword from its scabbard. The Man retrieved his dagger, looked it over and said, "Thank you, Thief. Let me repay you with a reward for returning this to me." Then, in an almost cooing tone of voice, he spoke to the dagger saying, "Fight the enemy 'fore my eyes and stab him until he dies!" The dagger then leapt forth and began attacking Gomer as if being wielded by some unseen Giant.

  Gomer found himself fencing with the blade but realized that to be futile as it was even quicker than he was and it had a much larger target to stab at than he did. He turned and began to run around the room in a panic. He was rewarded for this by a deep cut to his back right through his leather maille. He turned and dodged another attach, made a large repose, and then made a grab for the knife's hilt. He did manage to get a good grip on the handle. However, it twisted free from his hand almost immediately and continued its onslaught. Just as he was about to turn and give running another chance, an idea occurred to him. Yes, he was far too feeble to hold on to the blade, but maybe, just maybe the playing field could be leveled somewhat. All he had to do was live long enough to put his plan into action.

  Seeing the dagger attack his Thief, Nostromo lunged at Kyliodious. The huge axe was barely blocked by the Man's sword draw and he was put on the defensive. The two went at each other, both in a cool rage, neither intending to yield or surrender. The huge axe was slow but very unpredictable and, therefore, very hard to turn. The Man's superior, inhuman strength let him wield his long sword like a thin rapier, cutting and thrusting without fatigue. All in all, Nostromo had no advantage due to his larger, more fierce weapon. The only other positive things the Fighter had going for him was that the Man, despite his strength, was no larger than the Fighter so striking at him was not like hitting a wall of bricks like fighting a Giant would have been and the Man was wounded. The huge axe biting into his ribs had definitely taken something out of him.

  Actually, Nostromo did have one other advantage as there was a battle hardened Cleric standing only a short distance from the Man's open back. With her help, the two could probably keep Kyliodious busy without being killed too quickly. However, at the moment, she seemed transfixed on Maewyn's battle above, but once she entered this foray, chance might just come into Nostromo's favor. On top of all that, he knew something Kyliodious did not; most likely.

  The two battled ferociously for a good minute. This is a long time when being pushed to one's absolute physical limit. The only interruption in the battle was when Lotus let out a blood curdling scream.

  Lotus watched Maewyn run and attack the living Lich-thing. She desperately wanted to help but could not motivate herself to get near something that had, at one time, been undead. The thought terrified her. So much of her life had been spent learning to heal others than when she had first encountered a group of wraiths, she froze and let them attempt to drain her body of its energies. It was a feeling she could not forget or get over. How could the gods allow something so vile, something created with skills so close to the ones she spent her life studying, to exist? How?

  Then, a thought occurred to her. What if she could still Turn the creature? It had been undead even if it was not now. So, she took her Holy Symbol from a chain around her neck and held it out. It was not a large golden ankh or massive icon. The symbol of her Deity was a platinum nautilus inside of a spiral. It represented many things but, to Lotus, it represented the love of her goddess.

  Lotus stood there contemplating what she might do. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Raislin still flying around the domed ceiling and swooping around like an idiot. For some reason, Gomer was also running around also like an idiot. But, Nostromo seemed to have the Man under control so she really could spare her attention to try and help the Elfling. Attacking the creature's very will to survive would be easy, although making a Lich back down and flee was all but outside of her talents. But, since it was now partially alive, she might be able to affect it. The thing's new nature might make it more susceptible to Turning.

  Then, she witnessed Maewyn fall down and the terrible thing's hand start to glow. Now was the time to act. Lotus focused all of her faith on disturbing the creature's unnatural life. She could not destroy it, but it would know it had come into the presence of a Holy person. He mind's faith surged forward after briefly focusing on the Holy Symbol. She actually felt the Lich's life force being repelled. Unfortunately, she also felt the truth of the matter. She felt the power of the creature's will that propelled it to live on and on and on for centuries. She realized that, yes, she had been lied to. The Lich was still very much undead and that there was no life in it whatsoever. She was attacking a creature of utter darkness and despair, a creature that could and would drain the life from them all! Unconsciously, she let out a scream and collapsed into a fetal ball with her mind now broken.

  Maewyn looked up and saw the Lich preparing to do something vile to her. She tried to coax her sword into becoming a longbow again so that she could as least try to trip the monstrous thing approaching her. But, inside of the Anti-Magic field being emanated from the Lich, her morphic sword was static. The pain in her right arm was substantial as well. All she could do was watch her impending doom. Her time, it seems, had come. But, just as it was poised to grasp her, its hand and eyes glowing fiercely, it stopped. It looked up and seemed almos
t confused or in pain. Then, it turned around and peered over the edge of the flat dais down at someone on the ground. Maewyn really did not care what it was doing or to whom it was doing it to. She had to move.

  With an mental effort as great as she could impose on her limbs, she managed to crawl forward a few steps and actually stand up. She still could not see what was going on exactly, but there seemed to be weapons clanking and someone running around. Suddenly, the Lich pivoted back towards her and started to laugh. Well, she thought that the desiccated horror being emitted from its throat was a laugh, but who really knew? Its bony face looked almost smug as it moved towards her, its hand beginning to glow again.

  She braced herself for the next few moments of time. She was going to try and hack the hand from its body even though its bones were now almost as rigid as stone. If that thing got ahold of her, she would either become paralyzed or have her life's essence ripped out of her body. Its hand reached out for her and she timed her attack. Wait for it.... wait for it she told herself. Just as she was about to move, Raislin flew into the beast from above, feet first. The two collided with the impact as the Sorcerer's Flying spell was negated by the invisible Shell around the Lich. Raislin rolled forward to his feet as the Lich skidded backwards on the stone dais. "Go!" Raislin yelled as he grabbed a hold of Maewyn's good arm and coaxed her quickly down the stairs. "If the enchantments on your sword were valid inside that Anti-Spell, well, you just would have been killed more slowly. You will need to rethink your plan of attack, Cousin." She did not argue with him and ran down the stairs as quickly as she could. Those glowing eyes and her torn flesh had rattled her a bit. She did not even notice that Raislin had stayed behind to fight the thing on his own.

  Nostromo received yet another stab wound from the Man. He was clearly outmatched as each of their exchanges ended in either Kyliodious receiving a wound and Nostromo two or just Nostromo receiving a wound. There was a pause in the battle as the Man took a brief second to size up the last cut he had made to the Fighter's armor. "That Plate of yours is of a rather common make, isn't it? You should treat yourself to something more grandiose someday," he said laughingly.

  "I will," replied Nostromo. "Tell me though, besides the gold, why do you work for that thing? It must be a vile master to serve."

  "Truly, but my family has been in its service for centuries. He is actually one of my ancestors so, you could say, that it is in my blood to serve him. Besides, in his employ, I get to slaughter all manner of idiot Fighters and half skilled Magicians. I really never do get tired of it." And, with that, the fight was back on.

  Maewyn saw the two fighting and Gomer leaning on a side wall fighting with what looked like his pack. She quickly drank a healing potion which she wrestled from her belt pack one-handed. She decided to help Nostromo and joined the battle. Since she was out of the Anti-Magic shell, her weapon was free to change its form to either sword or bow, but she decided to enter a melee with Kyliodious as firing arrows at him might put Nostromo in some danger. All in all, her presence aided the Fighter a great deal. But, the bottom line remained that the Man was going to win this fight. Finally, Nostromo made a large, full power cut and Kyliodious deflected it, continued his motion into a quick spin, and slashed Nostromo's thigh open. The Fighter was all but out of the game at this point. With Lotus unconscious, Nostromo down, Raislin probably dead by now, and Gomer, well, doing whatever, things continued to look bleak for the group.

  "So," mumbled Nostromo as the Elf and the Man continued their now one-sided battle, "this is how I am going out." A blast of lightning lit up the top of the throne platform. He managed to remove his legging and put a quick tourniquet on the gash which only slowed the bleeding. "Well, I guess I should at least try to kill that bastard. Allowing oneself to bleed to death would be so pedestrian." But, unexpectedly, a brown clad figure dashed into the fray.

  Gomer remembered quite suddenly, as the dagger sliced through his leather armor once more, that he had been given a strength potion. Actually, he had always been quite aware of this fact but the idea of drinking something so very expensive had pushed that possibility far out of his mind. That potion was obviously rare and wondrous which meant expensive to the point of absurdity. Okay, he would never actually want to sell it to anyone. Just having it meant more to him than jewels or gold. No, that is silly, gold meant more to him than anything. He could admit that to himself. But sometimes you have to spend a little to get a lot, for example, his life meant a lot to him; almost as much as gold did. At any rate, there had to be gold in this place, he could smell it!

  So, all he had to do was get into his pack, get the potion, guzzle it, and hope it made him strong enough to hold onto the knife presently trying to kill him, if he could catch it again. Yes sir, all he had to do was survive getting sliced and diced by an animated buzz-saw while getting into his pack, retrieving a specific potion, et cetera, et cetera. Simple as pie. Then, all he would have to do is figure out how to sate the blade's insatiable lust for his blood, then kill a master swordsman and a Lich-Master guy. Yep, that was all he was going to have to do to get at all that gold. Say it fast and it sounds simple, he told himself.

  Gomer did manage to get into his pack. Actually, using it as a shield and digging through it at the same time was easier than he would have thought it would be. The potion had been tied down via a slipknot so he could get at it and he was able to free it a guzzle it while only taking two more fairly painful cuts.

  The very instant the potion hit his system he felt a force surge within him. He had never been a strong man though not exactly a weakling. He was at least as strong as his sisters were; at least. But, at this moment, he felt like a Titan. Forget Giant strength, even those twenty foot tall brutes that lived in the clouds and inside storms themselves, he was now the epitome of power! "I wonder," he said as he managed to catch the dagger's handle, "I wonder how long this potion lasts."

  Now that he had the dagger in his hand and found he could hold onto it easily, the next question became what to do with it. He still had the blade's sheath so maybe holstering it would turn it off. At the least, being hit by the sheathed knife would be less likely to kill him. You'd think so anyway. Now, where did that sheath go?

  Raislin was spending his time on the dais mostly running away from the Lich and playing squirrel with it using the Throne of Bone to hide behind. He was also taking every chance he could get to try and smash the throne. He was successfully hacking pieces off of it and it was getting worn down to the point of being just a pile of bones. The Lich did not seem happy about having to chase after someone and, after spending a few minutes trying to catch his prey, he decided to just take a step back and cast spells on the intruder until he died. Why the infidel was destroying his chair was anyone's guess but, after having existed for countless centuries, the Lich realized that the world did not require different types of people each with personal goals, it was just infested with them. At least, it was infested at the moment. Soon, it would be orderly under his command, perhaps in only five or six more centuries.

  Raislin knew that he had literally flown off of the handle and left the group to do his own thing. But, standing around chatting about how the party was probably going to get killed grated on him. You do not sit around relating while in the midst of a battle. You act. So he had. He always did. Now, as soon as he finished destroying what he assumed was the enemy's seat of power, he would help finish off the Man, then they would kill the Lich. Odd thing though, for an artifact or even only a Major Power Item, the Throne was getting destroyed very easily. Also, there did not seem to be the inevitable retributive strike from it. When you destroy an enchanted item, you just expect it to let off a blast of raw energy or some such thing. This relic was not doing that. Also, as he was destroying it, he was running out of places to hide from the Fiend.

  A lightning bolt suddenly used Raislin's body to complete a circuit from the Lich or the Negative Energy Plane or wherever it came from, through the air, through his body,
and into Mother Earth. The Lich started chanting up another spell which sounded like more of the same, so Raislin decided that now would be a good time to flee. His flying spell was actually still in effect, he would just have to make sure he did not get too near the creature as he escaped. So, after giving the throne a last good whack, he leapt off of the dais and into the air zigzagging so as to possibly not take the full brunt of another lightning bolt.

  Nostromo was injured, Maewyn was doing poorly against the Man, and Lotus looked to be unconscious. Whatever else was going on with the Lich, it was obviously time for Gomer to show who was who and what was what! He made a dash over to the Man and blocked his thrust in mid-strike. This surprised Maewyn but, for the first time ever with Gomer, in a good way. Gomer then gave her a wink, looked Kyliodious straight in the eye and then gave him a solid left hook of Titan strength. The man was almost stunned by this but since he was wearing a thick helmet, he was more confused by it. Gomer, on the other hand, was stunned as his punch to the Man's helmet almost broken his hand. He may be stronger, but he was not any tougher.

  This premise became even more evident when Kyliodious began his swordplay with Gomer. The Rogue could now pierce the Man's armor like it was not heavily enchanted, but Kyliodious was still able out-fence him and Gomer's leather armor was not standing up very well to this challenge. It was meant to be silent and afford him the full range of movement he needed to do his skulking about and lock picking and such. After slicing Kyliodious three times and getting either cut or stabbed three times in return, Gomer decided to try another, less painful tactic.