The Hunt

[Racouol]

Keal'vera managed to get a good lead on the guards and wizards behind her. She flexed her arm as managed to get a good lead on the guards and wizards behind her. She flexed her arm as she ran up the stairs to determine how injured her arm was. She smiled to herself, satisfied that the injury was not too bad to prevent her using it.

Keal'vera growled to herself as she heard footsteps coming down the stairs. She readied a spell as she quickened her pace hoping to take this threat by surprise. As she got into sight of her target she recognised the elven woman being carried. She ran by the suprised Mira and smiled. She still kept her eyes on him until Mira was out of sight to ensure that he did not attack her with whatever he hidden away in his coat. She was sure that he was more interested in helping the half dead elven woman than attacking a demon. She then chuckled to herself when she realized that the human would help aid her escape by stalling the guards chasing her.

As she neared the top of the tower Keal'vera slowed down. She could still hear the footsteps of some of her pursuers off in the distance but it was the sound of heavy breathing that caught her attention. She entered the room she heard the breathing to find Tayne on his knees clutching the bloody stump where his hand once was, Gyrfalcon standing over Tayne, and Daryl rushing over to Gyrfalcons side.

"So you must be the Succubus that I heard about" Gyrfalcon said as he looked at Keal'vera. "However I truely doubt that is your true form, why don't you show us what you really look like."

Keal'vera took a step back. She realized that she just got herself trapped due to her carelessness. She could hear the footsteps of the guards getting closer. She also kept her eyes on both Gyrfalcon and Daryl. One of her hands slowly reached for an iron rod in her bag while the other one shut the door.

"I would't do that if I were you." Gyrfalcon warned at the same time Daryl readied himself to attack. When he saw her hands stopped he spoke up again. "Once again, show me your true form."

"Very well Gyrfalcon." Keal'vera muttered. She pulled off the ring on her right hand. In an instant her body shimmered, her legs seemed to mend together and form a huge black and red tail and two sets of arms grew out of her torso. "Happy now Gyrfalcon?"

 

********************************************************************

 

Leshiec, Fey , Agon, and Kron had been joined by several other groups of people as they passed by other towns and villages. It seemed that Tel Reth was not the only city to be struck on that fateful night. To the north the city of Xist was nearly destroyed by a huge hoard of lesser demons and undead. To the south the city of Salban was torn apart by an supprise attack from the middle of the city. The only place that seemed safe now was to the east towards the pens keep.

[The Big Pointy One]

(Author's note: I edited this post, because the original one was too cheezey. Also, remember he was wearing an earring that was some sorta magic detecting device...)

 

 

Although his left hand had just been sliced off, Tayne wasn't ready to give up. He'd seen trolls grow limbs back before, and if the ring was any bit as powerful as the merchant who sold it to him said it was, he might be able to stand a chance again. His eyes darted between Gyrfalcon and Daryl quickly as he pondered fervently how he could scoop up his hand and make a temporary retreat.

 

"So you must be the Succubus that I heard about."

 

A distraction! His ears were ringing now. He had managed to ignore the buzzing in his ear from all the latent enchantments in the keep up until this point, but in the last few minutes it had gotten louder. Now, it was starting to get annoying.

 

"Very well Gyrfalcon." Keal'vera muttered. She pulled off the ring on her right hand. In an instant her body shimmered, her legs seemed to mend together and form a huge black and red tail and two sets of arms grew out of her torso. "Happy now Gyrfalcon?"

 

So this is what was following him. Some magic-wielding demonness. Another victim, he supposed. Trying his hardest to concentrate, he waited for his opportunity...

Edited August 15, 2006 by The Big Pointy One

[Tamaranis]

Despite the horrors these people knew they’d be up against there were, if anything, too many willing to take the fight to Gyrfalcon. The people of Tel Reth hardly needed convincing or promise of pay, even if they were too young, too old, or too injured to play any role in battle. Robby had hoped to gain a few extra swords to replace those lost in the attack, instead it seemed like there was an army here, just waiting for someone to give it direction.

 

Convincing people not to join him was a problem. If someone argued that judging by the number of demons that had attacked Tel Reth they’d need every sword they could get, Robby didn’t have an argument that could dissuade them. He could hardly say he could handle the demons himself, considering the shape he was in, but the idea of recruiting every last soul who offered presented him with a nightmare vision of an army of children attacking their own number in bloodthirsty monsters.

 

Already a couple of town guard and another mercenary had joined up with them. There were also three very young men and a young lady who’s opinions as to whether or not they had joined up differed from Robby’s. He was considering throwing a rock at them or something.

 

“Alright, Teq and Wren are probably having just as much success as us,” Robby said, “we’re only going after Gyrfalcon, not his whole army. We’ve already got enough for that.”

 

“But… we could have hundreds, we could kill off all his demons, too.” Llassar was having a somewhat different reaction to the ease of recruitment than Robby.

 

“We can’t feed and arm hundreds,” That wasn’t exactly true, they had the funds to feed and arm thousands, “And we’d take too long to organize. You know what they say about killing the serpent’s head.”

 

“No, what?”

 

“Once, in another land, an empire fought spirits that conjured demons from the earth and air. The empire tried to fight the demons. The imperial armies were immense, and their soldiers unparalleled. For every soldier that died a dozen demons were destroyed, and the empire was nearly lost because they couldn’t strike at the spirits directly… we have to kill Gyrfalcon as quickly as possible.”

 

“I’ve never heard of that story.” their new mercenary commented.

 

“Not a story, just obscure history.” Robby elaborated, “the good guys won, but not by slaughtering monsters. The lesson here is to strike at Gyrfalcon as quickly and directly as possible.”

 

“Okay, okay, I agree with you there,” one of their guards consented, “but how do we kill Gyrfalcon without killing his army first?”

 

“Gyrfalcon’s armies aren’t sitting at home protecting him, they’re out here spreading death and misery. We handle a few of whatever personal guard he’s got, and I can kill a man from very far away” the mercenary indicated the collapsed piece of siege machinery strapped to his back, “no magic involved, mages spend their last few seconds surprised as hell.”

 

“Anyone else just catch a whiff of something weird?” Robby suddenly asked.

 

“Just smoke.” several voices answered.

 

“Huh…” Robby spun to face the young people slightly separated from the rest of the group, “You lot quit following us, or there’ll be trouble soon as my arm heals!”

 

*****

 

Teq and Wren had already returned to what was left of Teq’s home and were waiting when the others arrived.

 

“We have to get moving right away,” Teq said at the same time Robby warned, “We might have a problem on our hands.”

 

“How did you hurt your arm again?” asked a clearly annoyed voice.

 

Only then did Robby notice that among those Teq and Wren had recruited was the priestess who had tried to heal him earlier. Before he realized what he was doing he’d turned his body to keep it between her and his right arm and retreated several steps.

 

“I absolutely promise I can run faster scared than you can angry,” he said by way of answer, “so I’d appreciate if we could not bother playing it out.”

 

*****

 

“Keep a low profile, no one do anything amazing.” Teq had warned, mostly for Robby and Licha’s benefit.

 

But that plan was quickly abandoned in getting moving as soon as possible. They purchased food, supplies and a few extra weapons at several times their normal value, although Teq and Robby didn’t let on to just how much money they had. Then they set out in the general direction Ugarte had said Gyrfalcon was in.

 

By the first night they were down to a dozen able fighters and three hangers on. Robby volunteered himself to act as the watch throughout the night, but there was a misunderstanding to the effect of it being unrealistic for an injured man to go without sleeping and remain alert all night. Eventually he gave up and allowed for an order to be set.

 

Not feeling up to physical activity for once, but still as tireless as ever, Robby stayed up throughout the night chatting quietly with whoever had the assigned watch, tending a low fire, or generally keeping busy. When morning came his burns seemed to be unblistering, and the cuts on his torn hand looked a week old. He had normal mobility in the fingers later that day and observed that the arm no longer hurt.

 

The next night they stayed in a small town that had been spared any fighting thus far. With no real need for anyone to keep watch on the party as they slept Robby ensured general security of the town by spending the night running an ever expanding circuit around it.

 

That morning the splint was gone and he’d bought a few horses.

Edited August 2, 2006 by Tamaranis

[Katzaniel]

Teq watched his son as, through three days of travel, his spirits slowly sank. The man realized that Llassar had, until now, been altogether too excited about adventure, and that it was a good thing that reality was beginning to sink in. But he didn't want to see his son's weary eyes as he kissed him good-night, or to see his jaws set when he turned away from something interesting and suddenly remembered his mother. Teq almost wished that Llassar could keep his boyish innocence forever.

 

The night the bandits attacked, Llassar regained some excitement. But though the fight was short, as the dozen or so skilled fighters made quick work of them, it caused two things. First, one of the non-fighters lost an arm, and he and his two friends realized that they were dangerous to themselves and the others. They took some of the provisions with them and headed back to Tel-Reth.

 

Secondly, Llassar sustained an injury. Not a big one - it didn't even bleed - but it made him less able to move quickly, and made him less deluded about the nature of their adventure. Teq wrapped up his son's side, feeling his heart sink as Llassar grew grim. "I know that maybe I shouldn't be here either, dad. I see now that all this walking, and this fighting, I'm probably slowing you down too. But for mom's sake, I have to try, you see? I have to do what I can to avenge her."

 

Of course Teq didn't want his Llassar in any danger, and he saw their surroundings and knew where they were headed. But neither could he send his son home, to scarred Tel-Reth, nor could he abandon his own need. His dear wife was dead because of this Gyrfalcon, and even if he died, too, he would die happy if it meant Gyrfalcon did not live. The thought of danger to his son slowed him down, made him worry, made him wonder if he was doing the right thing. But he could not conceive of giving up, and his own son's grief and determination made leaving him impossible. He had to watch over him as best he could, Teq decided, and they would grieve for Wellin together. Grieve, and destroy the evil man who had done this to them.

 

He was still thinking that a few days later when the demons came again.

[Salinye]

thump…thump…budump…

 

Mira's heart was pulsing into his ears loudly as he made his way out of the stairwell into what appeared to a be a hallway on what he could only assume was the main floor of Pen Keep. Salinye lay limp in his arms, her long blond hair dangling down near his knee, his clothes drenched in her blood.

 

thump…thump…budump…

 

Being a stranger and worse, a prisoner gone awol in Gyrfalcon's stronghold was enough to make brave men nervous. Dove claimed he was a "good man", but as the night was unfolding, he wondered if anything that had ever come out of her mouth was true. Looking down the well-lit hallway he noticed droplets of blood. He didn't know if this was from Salinye or something else. The thought reminded him that he really didn't even know what battle was being waged or which side he would be considered to be on.

 

thump…thump…budump…

 

The sound of rushing footsteps were heard coming toward him; without thinking he shifted part of her weight onto his hip, grabbed the handle of a door in the hallway and turned it. He sighed in relief as he heard the tell-tale click and was able to push it open. Rolling his body against the door he swaggered inside and put Salinye down in a corner as gently as he could while in a hurry. Dropping into a crouch he deftly pulled a dagger out from within his coat and put himself between Salinye and whatever might walk through that door.

 

thump…thump…budump…budump…budump…budump…

 

Mira could see the shadows of several people as they rushed by the door which was ajar, but none of them stopped to investigate it.

 

"Aaggg I wish these stupid alarms would stop! I can't think with all this racket!"

 

Since Mira couldn't hear any alarms, he could only assume that they were some sort of magical system only heard by Gyrfalcon's guards or servants. Hearing the hallway go silent for the moment, he took a moment to assess his surroundings. By chance he had ended up in some sort of a supply closet. The walls were lined with shelving holding towels, sheets and other linen, boxes of what looked to be toiletries and other odds and ends necessities. "Well Dove, for now, this is going to have to be enough."

 

Putting his dagger away, he stood up and pushed the door almost all the way closed leaving himself just enough light to navigate around the room without causing anything to crash to the floor. He quickly pulled some linens off a shelf and made a make shift bed upon the floor behind the door. He then gently moved the mage over onto it hoping he had enough time undisturbed to bind her wounds to a point where he could feel confident in traveling with her again. At the same time he wanted her in a place so that if anyone did open the door, it would serve as a shield for her.

 

Half way through his preparations something inside of him made him stop and reevaluate what he was doing. Why was he staying here and risking himself for her? For all he knew, she was going to aid in his death once she was awake again. She has quarters in Gyrfalcon's stronghold!! Glancing back to the door and remembering the silence he realized that he could just leave her there and make his own escape. No one would blame him, he WAS after all brought here as a prisoner.

 

thump…thump…budump…

 

His heart beat like the ticks of a clock as he weighed his options. Seconds drug on like minutes. In the end, however, his conscience got the best of him. "All hells woman, you better not get me killed." he grumbled as he did his best to stop her bleeding and stabilize her wounds.

[Tamaranis]

Robby spotted the demons first, and with no cover and no effort to remain hidden he was sure they spotted him as well. But when he tried to draw them away they had no interest in pursuing him. Instead they continued directly after the main party and were content to let Robby race them there.

 

The mounted men spotted them first and shouted warning before readying lances. Wren dismounted and began rhythmically pulling her arms across each other in front of her chest then stretching them out to either side. Licha closed her eyes and her armour became unaccountably shinier. Everyone else just drew a sword.

 

Most other mercenary parties would have broke and run. This one only held its ground because every single one of them had already faced the demon invaders once before. Stumbling, rotting orcs made up the bulk of the force. As thoroughly wretched as they were they moved with a speed that showed masterful necromancy. Roughly a dozen human-like things, each one twisted and deformed in such a way as to leave no doubt that it wasn’t really human were scattered amongst them.

 

Three more demons bore no resemblance to humans at all. The profile was similar to that of a centaur, but there was no man-like torso, only a headless pillar of flesh with a few long limbs haphazardly attached, each one ending in two feet of steel.

 

Just before the monstrous and the human forces clashed Robby caught up with the lead demon. A roughly human thing with long arms or forelegs that touched the ground every other stride or so. Robby tackled it and they both went down in a tangle of limbs. There was an unpleasant sound of something breaking and only Robby stood up again.

 

Then there was chaos. An absurd desire to fight the horde himself and thereby protect his entire party danced through Robby’s head as he dove out of the path of one of the centaur things. It was pierced by a lance but continued forward, its limbs snapped forward like whips. The rider parried one on his shield but two more cut deeply into the horse and snagged there. The horse screamed and fell, pulling the monster with it. The limb that that had missed the rider struck again, also finding purchase in the horse’s massive torso. The limbs that had already embedded writhed, digging deeper. The rider miraculously managed to fall free of that particular carnage.

 

It occurred to Robby that now would be a good time to kill the centaur thing but instead he caught the spear thrust an undead orc had aimed at him. The spear stopped dead at his touch, the orcs momentum carried it onward until it met Robby’s shoulder and was hurled back, now relieved of its spear. Two more advanced, not giving him enough time to finish a zombie.

 

Brygad placed an excellent shot on one of the orcs with a crossbow beyond all sense of proportion. The leg wounded leg wouldn’t normally slow it down, but it was bolted to the earth. The same bow somehow fired two more shots in rapid succession, and inflicted such tremendous damage on the torso of another orc that it stopped moving. Then the bow was discarded and he was in melee.

 

Licha had allowed herself to be surrounded by squad of the undead orcs, who pressed in, trying to pull her to the ground with numbers and raw force. Their fingers burned and broke away when they touched her radiant armour. When the massive, iron-banded bludgeon she wielded in both hands struck an orc it was reduced to a shower of fiercely burning chunks of flesh.

 

Never having been able to really contribute to a line, Robby moved and operated mostly on reflex while trying to keep track of his allies in the battle. Weapons lunged for him so he batted them away, limbs got close enough, so he broke them. Demons were falling, but there seemed to be fewer humans standing. The rider who had been unhorsed in the first few seconds he couldn’t see, another rider was also unaccounted for. Four men on foot, Llassar among them, held a spot of ground about two who had fallen. The two who were left mounted had pulled out of the melee and were readying another charge. Teq and Wren were fighting back to back, Licha was fighting completely alone.

 

Half the almost humans were still standing, and along with one of the centaur things they made a rush at Teq and Wren. Too much.

 

An orc barred his path but it stumbled as its knee broke and he moved on. A hammer descended, it met his hand and came to a stop for a moment, then he was out of reach.

 

In one sweeping movement Teq’s sword intercepted three clawed hands. A finger sailed free. A demon moved forward and Wren moved back to evade it, then moved forward again, quickly slamming a pair of daggers into its throat, one after the other.

 

A pair of scimitars moved toward Robby, caught his palms, drew red lines. Another attacker came from behind, the axe he evaded but its wielder stumbled into him. Off balance, losing momentum.

 

As a clawed hand missed Wren she cut it to the bone from elbow to wrist. The demon kept coming on, stabbing at her with mandibles. She flowed away from the attack, leaving Teq’s back exposed.

 

Too many undead, too close. Robby struck with both fists, imparting every bit of momentum he could. The orc took flight and he advance two steps before they closed in again. He lashed out in two directions at once, managed another step, walked into a sword.

 

Teq faced down the centaur thing. Three sword-tipped arms striking almost too fast to see in addition to the hooves. The hooves had to much power and weight behind them to parry, so he moved around them while working his sword in a series of brilliant parries that kept the arms at bay. Then sudden, searing pain in his shoulders, stealing the strength from his arms.

 

Robby kicked off an orc, twisted in the air and made it over two more. Another collided with him before he landed. He fell, weapons and fangs descended after him.

 

Teq was dragged backward by the demon that had seized him. He split its skull as he fell, but the sword like tip of one of centaur demon’s arms slid through his throat as descended.

 

The two remaining horsemen brought their bows to bear and a pair of arrows hit the centaur thing, it turned to charge them and received to more arrows. They fled and it stupidly charged after, pumping out its blood.

 

Licha sent a dozen lazy tendrils of fire drifting into the mass of orcish undead that Robby had disappeared into. Each one wrapped around an undead limb then snapped tight, burning through it in an instant.

 

Too little too late, Wren was left fighting five demons on her own. She struck with magic as fast as with her knives now, piercing minds as well as flesh. Demons were blinded or deafened, imagined the humans receiving reinforcements, saw Wren swell to triple her normal height… but they were too close to a kill to relent. There was no room to dodge anymore. Claws kept finding flesh. Wren started to slow.

 

At some level the orcs realized striking at Robby with weapons and leaving him room to fight back was useless, so they pressed in, biting, crushing, stomping. For his part Robby was just as tireless as any zombie and kept on fighting to get past them, still holding to the idea that he could save Teq and Wren. Every time there was an inch of space or any freedom of movement he used it to strike using more force than should really be possible, earning another inch, a little bit more room. Then suddenly the orcs lost strength, his efforts were working, he was free of them!

 

…just in time to see Wren’s final act of defiance. She didn’t have the strength to be agile and precise anymore. So when one of the creatures made yet another attack she caught it by surprise by stepping forward and embracing it. With her last ounce of strength she punched through the muscle of its back and ruined its lungs.

 

The other four wasted no time attacking a defenceless target.

[Katzaniel]

"Noooooo!" cried Llassar as he saw his father fall. Forgetting everything, including the orc he'd been barely staving off and the claws that swiped at him from the side, Llassar rushed to Teq's side. He took in his fully-cut throat, felt desperately for a heart-beat that did not come, and knew that he was dead. He grabbed his father's hand, tears streaming down his face, and the world around him slowed, seemed to grow smaller. He leaned forward and it felt as though he was moving through water, struggling past currents just to reach his father and plant a kiss on his cheek. "Damn you, Gyrfalcon!" he cried, the words torn from his lips in fury but they, too, seemed hindered, as if pushing through a wall before racing out where everyone could hear. Llassar's heart was beating, his anger building up, and as he raised a fist everything regained speed. A demon rushed past him and he could hear the echoes of his own wail, realized he was still crying out. A sob wracked his throat and he grabbed once more at the hand of his dead father.

 

 

 

Even in his grief-stricken state, Llassar noticed when everything slowed down again. The rest of the party was still in combat around him, he saw, but moving in slow motion, at least those that were nearest himself. Further out, he could see them moving at a speed closer to normal, but close by everyone, including himself, was slowed. No one else seemed to notice, though - they were moving normally, just more slowly.

 

 

 

Llassar looked down at where his hand grasped his father's. He remembered when he'd raised a fist, meaning to strike at the ground, and his surroundings had seemed to rush at him. Tentatively, he let go - and grabbed again when it happened a second time. He fumbled a bit, though, as the slow-motion didn't occur immediately. Not just by holding his father, then... perhaps the ring that he wore? A little groping soon proved that to be the case. The young boy gently pulled the ring from Teq's lifeless hand and placed it on his own. He was still grief-stricken, but anger was now filling him, and he felt the need for revenge, even more pressing than before. If Gyrfalcon would deprive him of his mother and father both, then Gyrfalcon would look into this boy's deadened eyes at least once before he died. And if he could cause the man's death himself, well then Llassar might be able to rest. But certainly not until then, and probably never again. In that brief instant, Llassar had begun to think of himself as a man, and he had nothing to live for but his vengeance.

 

 

 

Standing up from his father's corpse, he retrieved his dropped sword from the ground and moved against the fluid-air to meet his opponents. His renewed vigour and the unusual pace of the fight meant that he could strike harder and better aim his strikes, respectively. He easily dodged the orc's claws and thrust right to their hearts, downing one and then another two in quick succession. But as he, Robby, Licha, Brygad and the others began to turn the tide of the fight, as he began to calm down, he noticed that everything was slowly speeding up - he grew nervous again, and his heart beat down his throat. It dawned on him that the ring must work in conjunction with his own emotions, and that the graver the situation, the slower things moved. As the fight neared an end, he realized how hard that was to control. Still useful, though. Teq might be dead, but his ring would allow his son to enact revenge for both parents at once. Llassar was able to kill another two before he saw that the battle was nearly over, and his anger was beginning to settle as a raw feeling in the pit of his stomach. He fell forward onto his knees, and dully watched Robby dispatch the last demon in real-time.

[Gyrfalcon]

Gyrfalcon's eyes narrowed and he spun his blood-splashed katana through a slow loop. At his side, Daryl snarled, lips pulled back from human teeth. The demoness snickered derisively, but her laughter faltered as Daryl's snarl deepened, his face pushing out, sprouting fur, and became a fox's furred visage, his normally golden eyes turning redder as she watched. Turning his head, he looked at Tayne and his growing snarl became a roar of fury as Daryl streaked towards the already wounded bounty hunter, his rage at Salinye's treacherous injury overcoming his last self control. He went berserk.

 

Tayne paled a bit more and dived over Keal'vera's tail as she snatched the iron rod from her bag. Muttering, it glowed and suddenly each of her arms held a barbed, jagged sword. Two of her swords clanged off of Gyrfalcon's darting katana, the other four slashing furiously at his face and shoulders. Gyrfalcon fell back quickly to avoid her blades and she slithered forward, ignoring the play of predator and prey as Daryl stalked Tayne across the room, the werefox's movements graceful and deadly, while Tayne scrambled and hurled what he could at his pursuer, bitterly wishing that he could reach his flaming sword, but Daryl's movements and the fighting of the half-elf and the demon blocked him.

 

Gyrfalcon gave ground then counter attacked fiercely, his blade flashing and cutting, moving so quickly that Keal'vera devoted two then three then all six swords to blocking the sword master's cuts, sparks showering the floor around them as the peal of ringing steel rose in a crescendo. As she fought, she grimaced, feeling the wound in her upper right shoulder open again, black blood oozing down her arm, and the blade that arm held blocking just slightly slower, opening a hole in her defenses that would become more severe with each passing moment.

 

Cursing, she focused her will, hoping to punch through the Pen's wards and escape. Her form shivered and blurred and then... she reappeared, shocked as the wards shifted and blocked her strongly. Frozen for a second, she barely managed to raise a sword, turning a gutting blow into a stinging, painful wound to her side. Hissing, she counterattacked furiously, driving the half-elf back and turning, pointing a hand at his door, placing a wall of spinning, slashing blades across the entrance to buy her more time... time that was rapidly running out.

 

Grimacing in pain, she parried frantically as the ranger came back at her hard.

[Racouol]

Keal'vera began to sweat. While she was as skilled as any other Marilith when it came to swordfighting, it had been centuries sense the last time she had a chance to test her swordmanship. Still it was plain as day that she was at the losing end of this fight. Tayne would undoubtedly be too busy fending off the baserking were-fox to be of any help.

 

She edged herself towards the window while desperately trying to keep gyrfalcon's katana away from her. She glanced in Tayne's direction once more. if you wish to live, escape now. I doubt you will be able to withstand attacks from both that creature and the half-elf at once. Keal'vera then shouted "haur'tharq!" and let two of her hand let go of the swords. The swords took on a life of their own as they started dancing, bobbing, spinning while unmurcifully they attacked at Gyrfalcon's back. Keal'vera kept her defences up while she reached behind her back with her two free hands. Quickly one hand pulled a small pouch out and attempted to throw it at gyrfalcon.

 

Gyrfalcon instinctivly swung at the out streached arm managing to slice it in half down to the demon's elbow. While the demon howled in pain a cloud of a yellowish powder formed infront of him. Quickly Gyrfalcon swatted the two swords away from his back and then did several backflips to keep out of range of the cloud. The sound of glass breaking told him that the demon was making it's escape.

 

 

********************************************************************************

*********

 

Mulkif looked around the crude tent. Four tribes of orcs had come and joined his tribe. He knew however that even a horde of this size stood no chance against an army of undead and demons

"Attack em.....uhh.. It easy..... We crush." Roc spoke up interupting Mulkif train of thought.

"They Attack them, see what happens." Ulfk nearly whispered. "I know I will not have my tribe killed by those things."

"Hmmp. We all know the best defense is a good offence. We have enough troops to easily swamp those demons." Hunfer nearly growled out. "We need to attack."

"No Hunfer, we need to get more allies, peferably those who can use magic." Mulkif said as he laid a huge map on the table.

Hunfur spat on the floor "Humans are only useful if they are slaves or dead. Your dealing with those creatures is a disgrace to all orcs."

"Well then You and Roc can go get your tribes slaughtered. I am sure Ulfk and Melic both agree that my plan is the best." Ulfk and the tall orc near the back both nodded. "Beside, both of you came to me looking for my help. Anyway tomorrow morning we start marching to this castle" Mulkif pointed on the map at the pen keep, "We will march there with all our banners flying high and this" he threw a balled up blue cloth onto the table " flying upsidedown."

[The Big Pointy One]

This was his chance. Somehow, he had managed to avoid Daryl ripping his throat as he scampered around the room, getting everything possible between him and the werefox. When the demon dropped her cloud of yellow whatever, he leaped towards his bloody hand and scooped it up. Halfway between the window and the door, he made the quick decision to jump after the marilith. Throwing a tumbled-over chair at Daryl, he made another bound just after Kael'vara leaped out.

 

"Demon wench, cushion my fall!" he yelled as he passed through the window. He was weaponless as he fell, and he hoped the landing wouldn't kill him.

[Racouol]

Tayne was quickly approaching the ground when he felt something give a sharp jerk around his neck. He was now being held midair and choked by some magical force. He was just glad he did not break his neck from the fall. A hand-like force seemed to form around his waist and when it seemed to have a good grip on him the noose-like force around his neck disappeared. Tayne as too busy gasping for air to care that this new force was moving him away from the keep.

At the edge of the woods Keal'vera concentrated on the spell holding Tayne. Beads of sweat formed on her as she used all of her will to ignore the pain from all the injuries she received and to bring tayne safely to her. When Tayne finally was pulled to her, Keal'vera reliesed the spell. "Its good to see you got out of the keep alive," she said in a weak shaky voice. Quickly she cleared her throat then continued "I have been watching you for some time and I would...."

"Shh!! This is not the time for that. They are coming." Tayne interrupted with a harsh whisper.

"So they are, let them." she growled. Quickly Keal'vera took another look around. She then quickly grabbed Tayne and muttered a few words. The next instant the two of them were in a ruined city near one of only a few still left intact. She looked around again and quickly put her ring back onto her finger bringing her back to her succubus form. She just as quickly entered the building they were next to and motion for Tayne to follow her.

Slowly Tayne followed her into the building. He looked around the corner and saw the building was full of beakers, vials, flasks and various other glass containers. Many of them holding various colored liquids or gels. He watched as Keal'vera dipped two of her swords into a clear gel in a glass container large enough to fit a man. The little about of blood that was on those blades seemed to quickly make its way to the center of the gel. "What in the world are You doing?"

"You will see soon enough." She answered without looking over her shoulder. "Hmm, that might not be enough ." she then muttered to herself. Keal'vera quickly turned to Tayne "Did you managed to bring any??"

"Yes, though most of mine got mixed with it."

"Don't worry I can separate the different blood but it might take a while."

"Well, before you do you better explain what you are doing here and Why am I here."

Keal'vera sighed. "Okay," she took a look around the room and then continued. "Currently I am trying to create a clone. However I needed a few key ingredients. You being one of them." a sadistic smile formed on her face when she said that. "but do not worry, you can think of it as a form of immortality for you. All you need to do is consentrate on this." Keal'vera then pulled out a crimson ruby on a platinum chain and held it before Tayne

[The Big Pointy One]

Tayne hesitated for a moment. Although this demon had saved his life, he knew better than to trust her. He knew better than to trust any demon. However, he didn't exactly have many options. He was weaponless and in some lab that could be in the Abyss for all he knew. He weighed his options and nervously he grabbed the ruby.

 

"Bounty or no, revenge will be mine." he snarled, looking down at where his hand used to be. At some point between jumping out the window and landing, his hand was lost. At least I have my life, I suppose. he thought to himself. "So, what is this, demon?"

 

"Just hold on to it. Focus on it. Concentrate. You'll see soon enough." she replied, eyeing Tayne like he was a wild dog ready to attack. The burly warrior shrugged, then focused his attention on the ruby.

 

After a few scant moments, the room seemed to be getting darker, no blurrier. It wasn't like it was foggy, but that everything was going dim. He felt lightheaded, and soon things began to spin. Finally, the only thing Tayne could see was the ruby. All he could feel was rage.

 

"What sort of vile contraption is this, fiend!?"

 

Kael'vera just smirked. "You'll see, when the time is right."

 

But the time was not now. Everything went completely black, including the ruby. Tayne slipped into unconsciousness. To anyone observing, the ruby shimmered a bright red, then furiously and Tayne seemed to evaporate into nothingness. The pendant fell to the ground with a clinking sound that was forboding in the silence.

[Racouol]

Keal'vera looked down at the ruby and smiled, "I am glad to see that you accepted my offer." She said as she bent over and picked up the ruby. The ruby seemed to glow furiously at her causing her smile only to deepen "Do not worry, I intend to keep my word. You shall live, however your body just will not do now. So sit tight in there and wait." Keal'vera then stuffed the ruby into a pouch.

She walked over to the tank with the clear gel and watched it for a few moments, Gyrfalcon's blood had collected into a sphereical shape at the moment. While this was a promising sign she was still not sure if she had collected enough of gyrfalcon's blood and the though of facing him again made her shiver. After a few minutes of staring she noticed the gel start to boil. Small bubbles formed first only to grow at each passing moment. She sighed in relief knowing now that she had enough blood to create the clone. "I have to remember to thank the survivers of this lab for having the best equipment available in this lab." she muttered to herself as she glanced to the fireplace.

Over the fireplace 6 plaques hung over 4 of them hung the rotting heads of the former workers of this lab.

 

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"perfect!" Ugarte said as he looked at the corpses laying at his and Bob's feet. "Looks like we have a disguise that will even fit you my freind." He continued as he pointed to a large pretzle shape figure that was once a large man. "It is a good thing you didn't get any blood all over the robe." Bob looked at the robe in disgust but still walked up to the man and proceeded in derobing him. "Do not forget about the holy symbol and the book," Ugarte said as he rubbed his bald head for a little bit, "We need them to complete the disguise." Both Ugarte and Bob dressed themselves in the brown robes and then donned the holy symbol around their necks. Bob looked at Ugarte Questionly. "Don't worry, It is custom for priests in training for this particular religion will take a one year vow of silence prior to becoming a full priest. I will just say you are in the middle of that ritual and that should explain why you can not talk. Now lets hide the bodies." Ugarte a!

nd Bob then hid the bodies in a nearby cave and bob blocked off the entrence with a huge boulder. They then got back onto the road and joined the first group that was headed to the pen's keep.

[Tamaranis]

A splinter of awareness drifted through the places between worlds. Having no true hate or rage of its own to act as a guide it followed that of others. Souls of the departed wicked and wrathful were pulled by their own nature toward places called hells. The splinter let them carry it along. A bit of debris at the whim of great currents. Only rarely did it make any effort to control its course, and then only to ensure it went the correct way when the river forked.

 

After many days it came to a destination. The spirits around it were immediately seized and contorted by the destination. Tormented and twisted, the place remade them in its own image. But the splinter had no concept of pain or rage. This place could not grasp it and it chose its own shape.

 

A sort of pseudo Tamaranis, lacking armour or weapon, appeared at the base of a great mountain, and began to climb. Things abound in claws and fangs and pincers swarmed the mountain, but they didn’t notice the simulacrum. It climbed quickly and unhindered for another day. Only when he had nearly reached the summit was he challenged.

 

“Wizard, you are not worthy to gaze upon the masters,” A great gargoyle-like thing bellowed.

 

“Then I will avert my gaze, but I bring a warning to the lords. News regarding their war.”

 

“They know more than you can imagine, foolish mortal. The lords already know whatever it is you mean to say. Begone now if you wish to ever leave.”

 

“How many mortals can come so far? Have any still truly mortal ever stood here unharmed and unafraid? They must head my warning.”

 

“Blasphemer! If you do not repent your arrogance I will pull you fully into this place and cast you into the lowest of the pits for all eternity!” The dull fiery illumination about them flared brighter and lesser creatures fled from the presence of the guardian.

 

“I have been very careful in how I came here, and my warning is dire. To deliver it I will risk your wrath.”

 

“Then I will come to your world and find you and drag you screaming back here. Then, we will see how eager you are to meet the lords.”

 

Tamaranis’ projection’s voice hardened, “If you came to my world I would rend your essence to numberless fragments and feed them to the void. But if you impede me here I will never get the chance because when your masters learn what you kept from them they will never allow you any hope for the peace of oblivion.”

 

“…don’t dare to look upon them.”

 

The simulacrum followed the guardian the rest of the way to the summit.

 

“Oh lords of suffering. Masters of the greatest of creation. Destined rulers of all that was ever made…” the guardian kept its gaze averted and continued praising the demon lords for several minutes. “A mortal eager for his doom comes before you claiming to possess valuable knowledge. I will bring him before you or destroy him as your will dictates.”

 

“Show us the fool.” Arbal immediately snapped.

 

Tamaranis stepped forward, keeping his gaze at his feet. “My lords, you know who I am?”

 

“Why should we know the name of every fool who thinks he is worthy of our council?” Arbal sneered.

 

“The last of Ki’Ranas’ vampires…” Graz’zt mused, “who seized control of the infection at the moment of his death and achieved immortality.”

 

He addressed the simulacrum directly, “You were such a disappointment. You could have killed that world.”

 

“Oh, that one.” Lesiet recognized him now, “Very old, quite a few demonic agents have died of crossing paths with him over the years, survivor of Terra’s mage war… we’re listening.”

 

“There is power concentrated on the world you’re invading like I have never seen on a mortal plane. I saw the mage war, I’ve seen and fought your armies. You will have scryed and seen power, but you can’t have seen all of it.” Tamaranis’ voice remained cold, empty. Statements of facts without emotion. “Take the rest of the world. They won’t field armies to defend other lands. You could take whole continents and they will only use the tiniest fraction of their power to hinder you, but do not attack them directly. They claim the pen is mightier than the sword, and they prefer it, but if you provoke them to use the sword you will see the power to cast your armies out of their world entirely. Anything you muster against them will be destroyed to no purpose. Leave them be.”

 

“How can you have lived so long making such bold threats?” Arbal sneered.

 

“I would not threaten lords of Hell.” Tamaranis said, “If you attack the Pen I will be forced to stand against you, but it will not be me that breaks your armies. My contribution would hardly be noticed.”

 

“And just why are you giving us this ‘warning’?” Graz’zt asked. “I know you’ve never been a true ally to any demon.”

 

“This is a gesture of goodwill. As my lords have pointed out, I have been at odds with your agents in the past, and it has cost me dearly. I want to make it clear that I bear no ill will, that I am not your enemy. Please heed my warning. Remember that I helped you.”

 

“We will consider your warning. We will remember your goodwill at our leisure.” Arbal said.

 

Lesiet made a half-hearted attempt to ensnare Tamaranis, but as he’d expected the simulacrum shimmered and disappeared the instant his power touched it.