No. He wasn’t behind or in the air. She knew almost immediately what he had done. He had teleported as far as he possibly could in a straight line. No doubt to the tangle of dead trees far across the snow plain.
‘Bastard.’ Daisy cursed.
They were truly in it now. The devastating, if erratic power of a Wizard might have held the horde at bay.
‘Vere Vizard?’ Andreton asked, also noticing the Corbett’s absence.
‘He’s gone. He’s left us.’ Daisy said, still not believing it.
Andreton shrugged. ‘Has probably gone to make ze vater. Andreton just went too.’
Daisy didn’t have time or the spare mental capacity to take on board what Andreton had just said. The Orcs were moving in. They raised their weapons high and wailed.
‘For your lord and master!’ Moloch bawled to them. ‘Kill them. Destroy them. Take the Cow!’
‘Take the cow?’ Daisy thought.
A spear flew towards her which she dodged with ease. Then more followed and in an instant the sky was darkened with all manner of missiles.
‘Valeran!’ Daisy called.
‘Yes, yes. I’m well aware.’ Valeran said testily. He drew his forefinger in an arc above him channelling a Gift from Sunstra, one of five God Sisters, whose beauty was said to be matched only by their proclivity for violence in battle.
Gifts were single use spells or blessings a Cleric could store indefinitely but only one of each kind at a time. This gift produced a translucent dome centered on Valeran that glowed and then rapidly expanded from him.
The circumference of the dome moved with increasing speed both up and outwards. Every missile that contacted it bounced harmlessly away, sliding down its curved surface. Then the dome hit the Orc line. It was as though they had all had run face first into patio doors. Their feet went from under them and every Orc crashed onto the floor. The dome passed through Moloch, and even the mighty Prince of Hell staggered as the force field pushed at him. But he remained standing.
Daisy marvelled at the power of the force field, but it had only bought them a little time. While disorientated the Orcs were for the most part unharmed by it.
‘We have to find Felicity.’ She shouted. ‘If we find her and break the link to the Demon, we might have a chance.’
She didn’t believe a word of what she had said, but it always helped to have a focus in a battle.
‘We should try to stick together and cover each…’
These words were wasted as Andreton leapt over her. Dennis was held high above his head and his intent was clear. He was going to Chop Chop his way to Moloch.
‘For Daive’s sake Andreton.’ Daisy shouted. They said no plan survived contact with the enemy. Some didn’t make it that far. ‘Moloch! Ve fight to ze Demon.’ Andreton roared.
She ran after the Warrior, who had landed and was already producing carnage on a scale that had to be seen to be believed. With each furious swing of the massive double-headed axe, as the Orcs clambered back to their feet, limbs, heads and entire halves of bodies were detached. Swords and the Orc’s small hand-axes flew at him from those who had managed to stand more quickly only to bounce of his naked skin.
Valeran had increased the resistance of the Voridian’s naturally thick skin so that any blow delivered without the significant force was deflected.
‘I can’t give you that amount of protection Daisy.’ The Cleric called to her. ‘I can manage only one target at a time.’
‘Not a problem.’ Daisy replied. ‘I prefer not to get hit at all.’
At this Daisy leapt and spun. Her blades whirled with unstoppable speed and force, carving their way through the line of Orcs in front of her.
Wargs came at Valeran from his position at the rear of the two battlemasters. He knew was entirely vulnerable in this position and so had prepared a Gift from one of Sunstra’s siblings, Frostra.
As the Wargs tore towards him he clicked his fingers and an ice wall appeared from nowhere. The animals, some with riders, crashed into it.
‘Thank you for your Gift Frostra.’ Valeran said quietly.
He had only three more Gifts to call upon from the Sisters and he had no doubt that they would be needed.
‘They are going to get to me as we move forward.’ He called to Daisy.
‘Don’t worry, I’ll…’ Daisy started but had to stop as Francis suddenly charge past her.
The animal thundered towards Andreton. Fearful that her friend was in danger. Orcs that had narrowly escaped the butchery of Andreton’s axe now found themselves being ploughed into the ground by the Steppe-beast’s great horns.
‘Take the cow…’ Moloch’s command chased about Daisy’s thoughts. ‘What does a Demon want with a cow?’
More Orcs formed up against her. They were fearful of the relentless swings and thrusts of Daisy’s swords but the numbers behind them pushed them on. Baring jagged, uneven teeth they screamed at her, chopping with their axes, hoping to score a lucky hit. But Daisy was too fast, too agile. She ducked and weaved and dodged one side to the other. Weapons fell uselessly into an empty space, and then a blade would appear and cut a throat, slice off an arm or cleave a head.
A loud blast sounded. Valeran saw that his Ice Wall had been destroyed. No sword or axe could have broken the magic that held the gift together. He looked to Moloch, an aura had appeared around the Demon. He was using his own dark magic.
Valeran looked about quickly. The Demon would have to have drawn the energy from somewhere to cast such a powerful spell. The irises of the Clerics eyes glowed a little as he used a simple cantrip to detect any trail of magical channelling.
And he saw it. Beyond Moloch. It had to be Felicity. She must be sheltered behind the Demon.
He looked back. Wargs and Orcs were once again coming for him. Something like an explosion sounded but he had no time to look to where it had come from, or its effect. The Orcs were on him.
‘Arses.’ He cursed. He cast two force blasts to push the attackers back, but this would only buy him a few seconds.
‘Andreton! Daisy!’ He shouted. ‘I could really use your attention over here.’
A huge Orc leapt from the back of a charging Warg, in its meaty fist was a mace with vicious blades covering its head.
‘Bugger.’ Valeran gasped, casting a shield upon himself just in time.
For the Orc, it was like striking his mace against an anvil. The vibration surged through its body and it released the mace as its arm became numb right up to the shoulder.
‘Ha!’ Valeran shouted at it. ‘Up yours.’
He then saw the line of some twenty Orcs charging towards him.
‘Bloody hell.’ He said.
He was going to die. Daisy and Andreton were hip deep in Orc bodies already and still had dozens on each side of them. His concentration was required to maintain the shield he had given to the Warrior, or, alongside his cow, was carving through the horde as though he was harvesting corn. He could perhaps save himself. Use the energy to cast a force shield and then try to push through the army or Orcs.
He still had Gifts he could issue but they would only delay, not harm. While his moral backbone was indeed very flexible, being the direct cause of death didn’t sit well with him. Help others to do it, yes. But to land the killing blow himself. No.
He couldn’t save himself. He had to protect Daisy and Andreton until his last breath, and if possible, yes, even Felicity. She was a victim in all of this he was certain.
The Orcs moved far more quickly in their ill-fitting armour than he thought was possible. He would let them get close, then he would cast all of his remaining magical Essence into the shield on Andreton, and to give Daisy a second wind of magical energy so that she could keep up her devasting onslaught.
He raised his hands to prepare the transference spell. ‘Pity. He thought as he began to chant the required phrased, ‘I would have really liked to have seen the Quest.’
His chant paused as the Orcs began to hop.
<
br /> Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap
Donalt had never teleported before and it took a moment for him to realise that he was no longer standing amongst the dead trees. Instead he was now stood at the bottom of a set of steps, carved it appeared, from solid ice.
‘Wow. He did it.’ He thought. ‘The wizard is certainly an absolute wanker, but he does know his stuff.’ He looked to Dorian. ‘I’ll get through them, see if I can help.’
Dorian nodded. Although he had no idea how Donalt was going to ‘get through’ scores of Orcs.
‘Go ahead.’ He said. Because he had seen his own target.
‘Give me a short while to cause a fuss. Once you think I have their attention can you keep them busy?’ Donalt said.
‘Oh yes.’ Dorian answered with conviction. He turned to Corbett. ‘You better be ready to do your thing Wizard.’
Corbett frowned. ‘Of course I’m ready. I’m a professional.’
‘Good then.’ Dorian said as he brought his bow to bear and notched an arrow.
‘You aren’t going to do much damage with that.’ Corbett said, indicating the arrow.
‘I beg to differ.’ Dorian replied.
***
Donalt raced towards the Orcs, all had their backs to him. It was like Daivemas had come early. He drew out his daggers and ran along the line, plunging the blades with surgical efficiency into the sides of Orc he passed. They were all dead before they realised it. Had the trauma to their organs not done the job the poison on Donalt’s blades would have made sure of it.
Finally, realising that their colleagues were dropping behind them, some of the Orc’s began to turn. Outraged at the attack on their rear they screamed and cursed the small figure in black darting about their line delivering death to any unfortunate to come into contact with him.
‘Ok. Now I have their attention. Time to do your thing Dorian.’ Donalt thought as he braced for his next manoeuvre
He took a small pellet from a pocket and tossed it into the crowd of Orcs in front of him. A thick black cloud erupted from where it impacted. The cloud expanded quickly, making it as dark as night within its insubstantial mass. The Orcs, blinded, crashed into each other, some ran their brothers through with panicked thrusts of their swords.
Dorian saw the black cloud quickly spread through the ranks, obscuring everything within it and understood that the Rogue was now in his favourite element.
Corbett looked on, fascinated. Dorian let his arrow loose. There was a whoosh as it sped towards a particularly large Orc who was desperately looking for something to hit. The Orc looked towards them, and smiled, having finally found targets it could see clearly. Then the arrow impacted upon its chest armour.
It looked at the arrow shaft protruding from its armour then pulled it out of its rigid leather protection and stood defiantly holding it aloft. It laughed at the puny arrow.
‘Get down.’ Dorian said.
Corbett, not sure what that meant remained standing until Dorian grabbed his shoulder and pushed him to the floor.
Then the explosion happened.
A fireball appeared from where the large Orc had been standing and engulfed six ranks of Orcs. Those next to the Orc holding the arrow were vaporised while the others ignited, clothes and armour and flesh.
Corbett felt the heat from the blast wash over him. It had to have been terrific to be so hot at this distance and for a moment he understood what it must be like to be on the receiving end of his spells.
‘Fucking hell.’ He said, as Dorian kept him pinned to the floor. The blast tore through Donalt’s black cloud and evaporated it. But that was fine. He was already where he wanted to be. Either side of him the huge Warrior and the agile Fighter were busy performing their duties.
Even the cow was at it, goring and stamping on the hapless Orcs. Ahead of him was Valeran, and beyond him an angry, charging line of Orcs.
He quickly pulled a pouch around on his belt and withdrew a handful of tiny metal balls, which he then threw with an expert hand and eye over the head of Valeran.
‘This is a lot of expensive shit I’m getting through here.’ He thought.
The moment the shards hit the floor three-inch scalpel-sharp blades shot out from them. The caltrops were yet another very expensive and difficult to replace magical item. He hoped that their deployment would be worth the expense.
They were.
The Orcs ran onto them en-masse and immediately began to leap and jump with pain. Many dropped to the floor to hold their impaled feet only to discover a number of missing toes. They wailed with pain.
‘Pisser.’ Donalt thought and grinned.
Valeran still stood ahead. Entirely confused.
‘Cleric!’ Donalt shouted. ‘Valeran. This way.’
Valeran slowly turned. Not having taken on board that his obvious death had just been postponed.
‘Donalt?’ He said upon seeing the small man beckoning to him.
‘Yeah. Come on, quick. It’s going to get really interesting here in a second.’ Donalt replied hurriedly.
‘Donalt!’
It was Daisy, she had looked back to shout to Valeran and saw him.
‘Oh hai Daisy.’ Donalt said, and then winked.
‘Where’s Dorian is he…’
At that moment an Orc leapt over its fallen comrades with a bastard sword clutched in both meaty fists, ready to drive the blade down onto the fighter’s head.
From thin air Spyra appeared, fixed to its head. The Orc screamed in pain, dropped the sword and brought its hands to its face as Spyra leapt off it, having taken its skin with him.
‘Ok. I guess he’s around.’
‘Valeran.’ Donalt clutched the Clerics arm. ‘Dorian is hurt. He broke his bloody leg.’
‘Is he nearby?’ Valeran asked.
‘Yes. He’s right next to the Gate.’
‘Right. Well, I can fix that easily enough, but I need to be able to see him. If I can’t see him. I… arrrrrgggghh.’
Valeran found himself being hauled into the air. Below him Andreton stood, covered from head to foot in blood and gore.
‘You see him Cleric?’ Anderton asked.
Valeran managed to swallow his indignity at being lifted into the air by the warrior and looked about.
‘No. I can’t. There’s too many… ehhhyarrrghh!’ He squawked as he suddenly dropped and then was just as suddenly tossed high above the party. Thrown by Andreton.
While the method was crude the result was what was required. He saw the Ranger. A lone figure at the steps of the Gate as the Rogue had said. With a speed that surprised even himself he cast his Mantra of Mending before gravity outsmarted him. He fell back to Earth and was snatched from the air by Andreton.
‘You see him?’ Andreton asked.
Valeran staggered a little. Then he creased his eyebrows in an angry fashion and slapped Andreton ineffectively on his vast chest.
‘Tit!’ He shouted. ‘Don’t ever do that again.’
‘Hey up mate.’ Donalt said to Andreton.
‘Oh, hai Donalt.’ Andreton responded, not actually noticing Valeran’s angry reaction. ‘Zis is good fight. Dennis has cleaved many skulls.’
‘Yeah. It’s a good fight mate. Keep at it eh?’
‘Yah.’ Andreton replied, still chopping with his axe as he casually conversed with his friend.
‘KILL THEM!’
The voice of Moloch roared across the battlefield. He had witnessed the explosion and the black cloud and knew his plan was being undermined. He had seen that the Ranger and the Rogue had returned, and this was not good. This occurrence worked in favour of the Prophecy and not against it.
The Demon took a great step forwards to assist in the battle, then stopped. Did he dare?’ He could not move further from the Sorceress. If he did the link might break and the Abyss would claim him, sucking him back to its depths. It had taken many years to rise from Hell and a great deal of planning. The girl was his anchor. He couldn’t risk her waking.
/> No.
He dared not leave her. But he still had scores of Orcs and Wargs pressing the attack and they would at least keep the humans occupied. All he needed was the cow. With the cow in his command there was no chance the prophecy could be fulfilled. He was still able to summon more energy from his horde and the girl, but it was getting more difficult to maintain his control over both and still produce his offensive spells.
He dug deep into his arsenal and picked through his magic to determine the most effective spells. Time was what he needed. If he kept them away from the Gate long enough the window of opportunity would pass. The Prophecy would fail, and his triumph would be at hand.
Rocks Fall
Dorian felt an incredible warmth spread through his body. It was as though sweet, golden honey had oozed around his injured leg. The lethargy produced by the Bazzle left him in an instant and he felt strong, revitalised, and his head was clear.
‘The Cleric.’ He thought.
He dropped the staff Donalt had made for him and moved, running with all the speed he could muster across the back of the line. Now that he could act, he wanted to get close to the Demon, as close as possible. Moloch wasn’t moving, and this was what intrigued Dorian. Such a creature, with its size and strength, would be of great help to its minions, who were being severely punished by the party, yet, it didn’t move. It only shouted its orders, directing the Orcs from behind. Dorian had an idea why but had to be certain. This was not a situation where a hunch would suffice.
Orcs came at him, but they were not massed against him, it was only those who had fled from the explosion and fire. He easily dispatched each one, a slice, a chop, a thrust. They fell quickly and he continued his on his way with little resistance. Across the huddled mass of Orcs he saw fire and ice and earth rain down onto them, and he knew that Corbett had finally begun to earn his keep.
And then he saw her.
Felicity was stood with eight of the largest Orcs he had ever seen guarding her. They made no sign of moving to assist in the battle. Like their master they were intent on keeping her from harm. None of them held her though, and she wasn’t shackled. She simply stood with her head bowed and her arms limp, swaying slightly as though a gentle breeze was pushing at her.
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