by Tye Tivillus
Chapter 18: The Battle Begins
Inside, the dungeons had not changed other than the mess from the last fight being spotlessly cleaned away. Looking down from the balcony, Bo could see the artefact as it truly was; a heaving, seething monstrous mass of black oozy substance with a million eyes and a long misshapen proboscis.
It sat, or rather oozed over the altar on which it had been placed, dribbling grotesquely onto the floor where the dark substance pooled and swirled like vapours from boiling water. Bo shuddered at the roving eyes, ducking his head back and turning to the group. Alexander had already taken in the surrounding area and was frowning more deeply than usual, his bushy eyebrows casting his beady blue eyes into shadow.
'Desert people not in cagez. Ve not know vere they are.' Bo glanced down at the cages, visible off to one side of the altar, and pushed to the far edge of the large cavern. He was forced to agree with Alexander, as there was no one in there dressed in the red of the warriors, the blue of the mages, or the horrid orange of the politicians. Bo scanned the group of prisoners for Erasmus, who would have stood out merely because of his impressive height, but could not make out any who looked like his friend. Will shrugged,
'My information is good. I'm certain they got brought down here, so there must be another way we can go.' Bo felt a stab of fear in his gut as he contemplated the possibility that Erasmus had already been infested with a demon. The teen grit his teeth, trying not to dwell on the possibility, and to remain positive. Ruben seemed to have lost interest in his surroundings, and was fiddling with a small something in his hands.
'This can find him!' offered Ruben shyly, thrusting his hand forward into the group suddenly as though it had taken a lot of courage to do so. Bo, Alexander and Will leaned in to look at the object – it was a miniature golden bee. 'I ah, was trying to make the small animals, remember Bo? Well this is it. It hasn't had much of a test run but I think it could find Erasmus – so I programmed it to do that.' Gently Bo removed the bee from Ruben's hand, and the tiny golden insect wandered over the silvery palm of his hand until it stood poised on the brink of his fingertip. 'It wants you to go in that direction.' muttered Ruben bashfully. Bo grinned as the little insect fluttered its wings impatiently.
'Ruben – you're a genius, do you know that?' A huge smile stole over Ruben's face as he scuffed his shoes against the ground modestly.
'Maybe you should say that after you find Erasmus?' Ruben suggested, but it was clear that he was very pleased with himself. Alexander cleared his throat to cut off the congratulations before the group could waste too much more time.
'Hokay, zen Vill, Bo go find desert mages, get zem to be helpink vith ze attack. Ruben, ve create diztraction and try to get to artefact, yez?' Alexander waited for everyone to give their consent, however reluctant it may be, to show that they understood the plan. Nodding slightly, and taking one last look at each face, Alexander grabbed Ruben's shoulder, moving towards the head of the staircase. Ruben paused, and pulled out a mechanical mouse, explaining something to Alexander. Bo strained to hear what was said but could not. There was some agreement and the mouse was released. It ran slowly down to the ground floor, darting into the centre of the room it sat up cautiously, delicate ears twitching for a second or two before it suddenly and violently exploded with more force than Bo had thought possible for such a tiny object. There were shrieks of horror from the slaves who were caged nearby, and Ruben and Alexander took the opportunity to rush down to them, Ruben carefully navigating the stairs while Alexander leapt down two or three steps at a time, his weapon already at hand. With only his fist, Alexander grabbed the cage doors, and hauled them right off their hinges, breaking the locks as he went. Ruben, who arrived moments later, darted into the cages and began to fiddle with the slave collars to ensure that none of the slaves could be controlled that way, while the portly weapon master turned to face an oncoming stream of alarmed demons. His face was grim, but mulishly determined.
High above the mess, Will and Bo waited for the best time to slip in unnoticed. Below them people in brown cloaks flowed from the small alcove door like a stream of rats, some of them leaping and scrambling over others in their eagerness to attack the intruders that were causing such a fuss. There were grunts of pain, screams of anger, and shrieks of vicious joy as they surged forward in an uncontrolled and highly undignified rush. They almost seemed like animals, unable to control themselves, and Bo grimaced at the thought of fighting them. Without any warning, the rush slowed almost to a complete stop. Looking closer, it took Bo a second or two to realise that the horde had sunk into the stone floor. Ruben had stopped his magic with the slave collars, already having finished, and on Alexander's request had performed a large spell. The teen straightened, removing his palms from the floor and dusting off his hands. The stone floor was now more like a thick stew, bogging down the cowled attackers to their knees before hardening and catching them in Ruben's trap. They struggled energetically as Alexander began to wade among them, lopping off heads like a gardener might prune weeds, without allowing them the time to get back to their feet for a more honourable battle.
'Come on, now's our chance!' whispered Will, grabbing Bo by his shoulder and dragging his friend down the stairs. Bo stumbled, but quickly regained his footing, following Will, rather than being pulled along. As he raced down he looked over the railing, keeping an eye on the battle. A number of chosen ones who had been climbing on top of their peers had escaped the quicksand stones. They were now converging on Alexander in a bid to keep him occupied while their brethren freed themselves from the rock, and Alexander in turn was fending them off with his one handed axe. Ruben was intent on freeing as many of the prisoners as possible, opening the remaining cages and helping out with defusing collars. Many of the freed slaves were variously attempting to flee the area, or joining in the battle, rallying to Alexander to form a small fighting group that might be able to hold off the cowled people. Some brought crates, and chairs, along with other miscellaneous items that were strewn haphazardly around the slave area, taking them up as both impromptu defence, and weaponry.
Reaching the ground floor, Bo caught a glance of a familiar woman – it was the assassin Queen 'Tracer.' With a gasp of horror, Bo reacted quickly, pulling Will behind one of the columns that was supporting the stairs. As they watched from their hiding place the woman leapt an impossible distance, using one of her own people as a springboard she continued her jump over the regular fighters and into the midst of Alexander's group, quickly causing the untrained slaves to scatter with fear. Alexander grunted with exertion as he unleashed an immediate attack on the woman, rather than pausing in surprise at her abrupt appearance. In one smooth motion he had released the axe on his back, rolling it over his shoulder to gain quick momentum. If she was surprised by the attack, The Queen hid it well. She leapt back slightly, showing off a short sword that was clasped firmly in one hand. With a speed unparalleled by the other fighters, Alexander and the woman exchanged blows, Alexander made up for the slightly slower speed of his weapons by using minimal movements, both attacking and defending in the same motion. Slowly but surely this was driving the assassin woman back, until with a blood curdling battle-cry, one of his heavy axes smashed through her sword, severing it and rendering it useless for battle. The woman jerked back in surprise and the cowl fell away from her face. Alexander froze with horrified surprise as he realised his opponent really was The Queen. The dark skinned, yellow eyed beauty took quick advantage of Alexander's momentary distraction, plunging the stub of her sword into the man's chest. The weapon master was not fast enough to stop her, roughly using his elbow to knock the slimmer opponent aside and send her stumbling. With a grunt of pain, he clutched at the handle protruding from his chest, but did not remove it. It was clear that Alexander was now at a disadvantage, but more than that he seemed less sure of himself, momentarily thrown by the identity of his opponent. Bo knew that the weapon master was intensely loyal to Middlefortress, and wondered whethe
r Alexander would be able to make the killing blow on his rightful ruler. Luckily Alexander was spared the decision when both sides, seeing him injured and the assassin disarmed, rallied to their respective leaders, cutting off the personal battle there.
Unable to spend all his time watching the battle, Bo held up the small golden bee to his face. The bee was still sitting patiently on his finger, pointing directly to the alcove of the chosen ones. With a nod to Will, the former slave jogged cautiously into the small doorway from which the chosen ones had been streaming not moments before. Inside there was an empty hallway. Down the hallway was door upon door upon door, and they all lead to small cramped rooms with enough beds for six people, but hardly room enough to live comfortably. Some seem freshly occupied, while others showed signs of long use. One had a long tally scratched deeply into the wall, presumably to count the days of habitation. There was the staccato slapping of foot on stone floor that made Bo and Will hesitate, drawing back into the shadows. Quickly the large man Bo also recognised as Spellborn jogged down the hall and out of the door to join the battle. He had his eyes trained on his destination and did not notice the two intruders in the shadows. Will scrunched up his nose.
'He reeks of bad magic, does that one.' Bo shrugged, unable to sympathise with Will's senses that he did not share. Quickly, the two ran in the direction that the hulking figure had come from. The further in they went the worse the area smelled. Furthermore, it was noticeably colder, and slime was growing in the cracks between the rocks. Gently Bo prodded the slime (much to Will's disgust) and found that it was wet. Hurrying onwards, spurred by the bee's excited buzzing, the two quickly began to hear murmurs and the occasional shout. As Bo was running through a narrow passage, with Will hard on his heels, the teen heard something that made him come to a screeching halt. Will smacked into Bo and the two nearly went sprawling.
'Bo! Hello? ANYONE!?' the teen looked about him, confused. He could see no door, but it sounded as though Erasmus had called out from right beside him. Glancing down at the bee, Bo sighed in irritation. It was running in little circles on his palm, fluttering its wings so enthusiastically it was nearly taking off. Seeing what the bee was doing, Will made one or two simple gestures with his hands before he began to run them over the stone walls. Bo leaned down to assist Will with his one free hand but the white haired teen shook his head
'I'm feeling for magic.' With a shrug, Bo stood back and let Will work. Finally the silver collar slave's face lit up, and he pushed at one of the blocks. Almost unwillingly it moved inwards, as though it wasn't made to be doing such a thing, but as soon as it had been depressed an entire inch into the wall, there was a low grinding sound, and a secret passageway opened smoothly. With barely a glance between them, and leaving behind the last echoing cries of the fight, Will and Bo slipped into the dark.
After a moment or two their eyes grew used to the gloom, and Bo could see the passageway was lined with more doors. Each door sported a small barred window, and to each window a number of anxious faces were pressed. Suddenly fingers were pushed through one of the windows, and made a mangled attempt to wave at Bo.
'Bo! Over here, it's me Erasmus!' Quickly, Bo and Will hurried over. Will uncoiled some wire from its place around his wrist, and he inserted it into the door. He muttered words, making increasingly complex hand symbols as he worked. Although Will worked at a cool demeanour, his hands were shaking so much that he had a lot of trouble with the finer parts of the spell, and had to start again at one point. Several anxious moments later there was a soft click as the door sprang open. Erasmus slammed into Bo bodily, attempting an enthusiastic hug but only managing to crush the younger teen against the stone wall by the door. Over the last few hours he'd been worrying almost endlessly about Bo, wondering if he had been caught and converted, or if he had escaped and was safe. Although Bo was overjoyed to find his friend intact there were other more important things going on.
'Uhg! Erasmus get off me, this is no time -' Will nodded and moved on to the next door while Bo explained what was happening. 'We found out that the artefact might be some stone where demons have been hidden away for years and years.' Erasmus frowned, opening his mouth to interrupt with a long lecture about the reality of demons, and the fact that they were thought only to act as symbols and metaphors in ancient stories, or at the worst as out and out entertainment. Bo clamped his hand over Erasmus' mouth. 'No just listen – you can talk when we get out of here. We need to be quick. There is a battle outside. Alexander and Ruben are trying to get to the stone to detroy it-'
'It's a priceless artefact!' came a muffled but outraged shriek from Erasmus, who was unable to control himself.
'It's a priceless artefact that is going to bring death and destruction to the world as we know it!' countered Bo. Erasmus looked like he wanted to argue, but Bo continued his explanation before Erasmus could fit a word in. 'So now there is a big battle and people are dying and we need to destroy the stone. You—uAH' Bo was grabbed by a strong hand and thrown back into the stone wall behind him. The teen's head hit the rocks and he fell onto his rump, momentarily stunned.
Standing over Bo was a triumphant looking brown-cowled person. Hazily Bo scrambled to his feet and the woman laughed. On one wrist she wore a golden bangle that glinted in what little light made its way into the secret rooms.
'We knew you'd come here. I was hiding in one of the rooms – weren't expecting that, were you? I think I may have frightened your poor friend to death as well,' she crooned. Bo glanced at the door the woman gestured towards to see Will sprawled flat on his back some way down the corridor. He wasn't moving and a large portion of his semi-luminous white hair was stained a dark red. Erasmus stepped forward to attack, but with a casual gesture the woman sent him flying back into his cell. There was a thud and then not a lot more. Bo grabbed his sword, drawing it and slashing at the woman's midriff with one smooth move, like Alexander had shown him. The woman took a step back and Bo followed, thrusting the sword at her chest. Instead of backing away again, the woman caught the blade in her hand. Bo wrenched his weapon first one way and then the other, but her grip was firm. To his horror her blood began to dribble out of her clenched hand to run down her arm. She sighed heavily,
'Curses, I had forgotten these mortal shells were so fragile.' With that she squeezed the blade. With agonising slowness the blade crumpled in her grasp, but so too did her bones crackle, and blood spurted ever more vigorously from her damaged hand. Bo winced at the sight, unable to maintain his grip on the weapon he backed away from the monstrosity as she casually discarded the now warped blade and advanced on her foe. Bo couldn't look at her ruined hand, as it made him want to throw up and he needed to keep his head. With a roar, the woman launched herself forward, throwing a punch at Bo's head that surely would have shattered his skull had he not ducked out of the way. Instead she hit the wall behind him, crumbling one of the blocks, and breaking a number of her bones in the process. Bo could hear them snapping audibly with the force she was putting into each attack. Bo tried to duck behind her but she caught him by the shoulder with her uninjured hand and slammed him back into place against the wall. Having her opponent pinned, the woman threw another punch to pummel Bo's chest. The teen brought his arms up trying to deflect the blow but it still hit him in the ribs on his left side and the boy gasped in pain. She released her grip and Bo stumbled away from the dangerous opponent, trying to get some distance. The woman's cowl had slipped back, and Bo could see she had become so furious that her eyes had rolled back in her head, and the white orbs were red with blood that had flown into them.
In a rage the woman shrieked, punching the wall several times in her uncontrolled anger, further damaging her hands. From behind the woman, Erasmus launched yet another attack. His wrists were shackled together, and Erasmus looped the shackles around the woman's neck, pulling them tight in an attempt to either stall her or throttle her. With a choked off chuckle that chilled Bo's blood, the woman stomped down on Erasmus' foot. T
he desert mage howled in pain, and Bo was willing to bet his toes were broken. Beside Bo was his sword. It was crumpled in the middle and covered in gore, but it still had a sharp end. While Erasmus and the woman were otherwise occupied, Bo grabbed his weapon. Standing, the teen swiftly lunged forward, plunging the sword into his opponents chest, before applying as much weight as he could, dragging the blade down the woman's midsection to create a massive wound, from which no regular person could recover. Feeling ill he dropped the weapon and stumbled away as the woman slumped in Erasmus' grasp. The desert mage dropped her and moved back to the wall, clearly almost as shaken as Bo was.
For a good long minute there was silence as everyone collected themselves. Erasmus shuffled over to Will, gently resting a hand on the teen's head.
'Bo. He's still alive, he just got a bad knock to the head. We have to get these shackles off me. Go to that woman, she should have some keys.' Bo mutely picked himself up. He knew he should feel worse about killing someone, and in a way he was sorry, but without the proper time to process what he'd done, he was unable to comprehend the whole mess and its consequences at that second. Unfeelingly Bo roughly removed a large key chain from the woman's belt. Quickly he hurried back to Erasmus, realising that he had been moving sluggishly in his shock after the battle, but knowing that he was needed elsewhere. As soon as the shackles were off, Erasmus leaned over Will, murmuring a few words, and gently holding his hand over the white haired teen's head. Slowly Will's eyes opened. After a moment he grinned and spoke up.
'Looks like everything's okay. Is it lunch time now?' Erasmus asked Will a few basic questions, such as his name, which the slave was able to answer. As Bo freed the remaining captives with the aid of the keys, Will remembered where they were and what they were doing. Erasmus stood, a little shaky after his part in the gory fight, and the subsequent healing magic. He was supported by Will who looked as fit and healthy as a lettermage. They were both looking to Bo, who nodded to himself.
'Everyone! Please pay attention! Outside is a battle for life and death, not only for your own lives, but for the lives of everyone you know! The artefact that has been stolen from the desert has been activated and it is letting demons into this world in the guise of humans. We must fight the brown-cowled people and destroy the stone. If you must flee, then flee, but if you stand and fight, make sure you do it well!' Bo called. There was a general murmur from the crowded desert people, but thankfully they quickly started to move out, confused but willing to listen. Most of them had no idea what was going on.
'Bo! I thought that was your voice!' cheered Arty, clamping a hand on Bo's shoulder. Bo flinched at the gesture, reminded of his battle only moments ago. Noticing the state of his clothes, Arty retracted her hand, wiping it on her shirt. 'Can we have the keys? All of the mages are magic-locked to prevent them from escaping via spells.' Bo handed over the keys, and Arty carefully freed Hayes before leaving to unshackle the other mages of the group. Hayes stayed behind, healing those that needed it. With a groan Bo clutched his ribs – they still ached abominably but there was little he could do about it. Everyone needed to get out and help with the battle. Even as they were speaking, Alexander and Ruben might be overwhelmed. That thought alone was almost enough to set Bo running back the way he'd come to help, despite the hurt in his torso. As soon as everyone was free and ready, the group set off at a jog. Arty, Hayes, and another two warriors helped to coordinate the group so that it was an orderly escape out of the tunnels, rather than a mad rush. Erasmus, Will and Bo were in the lead, as they remembered the way out but Bo was finding it difficult to keep up the pace, as drawing in breath hurt, making it difficult to get in as much air as he needed. He was encouraged, however, as the sounds of battle up ahead grew louder and louder, and as if in response the teen found his steps becoming faster and longer. As soon as the main group spilled from the small door, one half went in the direction of the exit, lead by someone Bo didn't recognise. He wondered briefly if Takeshi was in that group, but did not have the energy to spend on searching out the orange-clad man.
In front of the group who had decided to stay and fight, they could see that the battle was mostly taking place in the middle of the hall. Alexander's army had slowly but surely dwindled, and corpses lay scattered on the ground. Many of the chosen ones who had been initially trapped by Ruben had been killed, but a few had managed to free themselves through one means or another. Ruben, Alexander, and their followers had been prevented from reaching the stone, and were surrounded on all sides by opponents. They had used a number of crates and other miscellaneous furniture to create a kind of barricade that they could use for limited shelter. Alexander himself was still fighting with half a sword sprouting from his chest, but it was obvious that his movements were pained, and they were slower than usual. Everyone was drenched in blood and sweat, and the flickering light from the braziers made the scene seem more hellish than it was already. As Bo watched, momentarily stunned at the carnage, one of the freed slaves screamed shrilly as his own clothes rose up to choke at him. As though someone had let out a battle-cry, the group of desert people who had chosen to stay and fight broke into a charge for the battle
'Fight our way to the main group!' called Arty, her voice carrying over the roar of battle. Bo realised then that he still had his bloody, ruined sword in his hand – but it was his only weapon, and so he carried it with him despite its uselessness. One of the brown-cowled people turned in surprise to face the new threat. He shouted something that sounded arcane at Bo, but when the boy's bones did not sprout thorns to pierce his body, the confused, demon-infested person let out a shriek of fear. Bo stabbed it in the gut, wrenching his sword up and out before the creature could try something more effective, taking it down for the count. All around him the chosen ones were turning their attention to the desert people.
'REINFORCEMENTS!' bellowed Alexander, his voice rumbling over the battle like thunder. There was a hearty cheer from the slave army, who suddenly redoubled their efforts, attempting to meet up with the desert people.
Between the renewed attack of the slaves, and that of the desert people, the confused demons were driven back, and the two groups swiftly met up. Ruben had found himself a spear, and was wielding it with an enthusiasm that didn't really make up for his lack of talent or skill. Luckily Alexander was keeping an eye on the teen, and Ruben had made a great many allies in the slave ranks with his skill at fixing the collars so that they did not work. This meant many of the slaves were more than happy to protect him where his lack of battle prowess got him into danger. More than anything else, however, Ruben was providing as much magical assistance as he could. He looked almost completely drained, and Bo watched as he quickly kneeled over the man who was being attacked by his clothing. Ruben grabbed the clothes, managing to tame them so that they were behaving themselves, but it took a good thirty seconds, by which time the man's shirt had almost succeeded in strangling the unfortunate slave. Erasmus moved in and gently took Ruben back to a safer spot in the middle of the group, while a number of other desert mages spread themselves throughout the ranks of slaves, taking up the role of magical defence and attack.
Hayes and Arty hurried to Alexander, and while Arty took over his battling, Hayes unceremoniously pulled the sword out of his chest. Alexander grunted, clenching his hands around his axes as blood spurted from the wound in a renewed flow.
'Come on, that hurt?' scoffed Arty heartily as she defended against a spear wielder. She had picked up a lithe one handed sword from one of the fallen demons, and was using it with the ease of an expert to fight off her foes, and to deal the occasional debilitating blow. The metal seemed to flicker in her hands as she moved from one stance through another, flowing with the battle. Alexander chuckled grimly,
'No – not hurt. I juzt remember I leave lunch at home.' Arty also let out a sympathetic grunt for the weapon master's predicament as she cleaved one man from shoulder to navel. He stumbled back and another swiftly took his place. Hayes merely sho
ok her head with irritation at the antics of Arty and Alexander, setting her concentration on healing Alexander's chest. Having no inks with her, Hayes was forced to use the blood that had seeped from Alexander's wound to draw hasty symbols on the front of his leather chest-plate. The symbols lifted only very slowly as she wove her spell, and it looked like some of them refused to dissipate entirely.
'This is... difficult. Have you been healed often?' Alexander did not respond immediately, but Hayes felt she already knew the answer. She continued her efforts, but she was only able to stop the bleeding. 'This wound is deep and you are too resistant to healing for me to close it up here and now. You will need bed rest.' Alexander nodded.
'Vill rezt vhen dead, yez? Iz feelink good az new. You are good healer.' With that Alexander used his great two handed axe to pull himself up, and launched himself back into battle, shedding his weariness like a cumbersome great-coat.
Soon the battle opened up. What had once been a tight knit group was expanding as the demons were driven back. The army of slaves, desert people, and others were slowly but surely making their way toward the altar where the artefact was seated. Most of the demons had regrouped to block the way to the altar, finally having realised what was going on. They created a scrum, with both groups facing off against one another, each trying to push the other back. Bo fought near Will, with Ruben backing them up with magic. They had convinced him to give up the spear in favour of being solely devoted to their magical defence, mostly so that he didn't feel the need to put himself in danger, but also partly so he would stop accidentally hitting them in the head with the spear shaft. Bo had discarded his sword for another that he'd picked up from the battleground. It wasn't as good as his last, but it also wasn't crumpled beyond use or clotted with gore. Bo attacked and parried as best as he could. It was like when he and Will had been sparring, and the action had gone too fast for him to actively process through his conscious mind. Instead he felt as though he was entirely detached from reality, as he hacked and sliced and waded through the gore of battle. He could feel his limbs tiring as they pushed forward. Occasionally someone would land a blow on him, but he couldn't feel the damage, and he would keep going. Will seemed to be much the same, and the two did not speak to each other as they moved, trying to keep themselves alive, for the most part, against a tireless, physically superior horde of enemies. Ruben cried out as a slave nearby went down, attacked by a horde of stone insects. The teen hurried to help the downed slave. Before Bo could turn to help, a large blot loomed in his peripheral vision. Without warning a huge fist smacked into his head, sending him tumbling into Will. Bo snapped back to reality, broken out of his dazed fighting. Standing over him, massaging his knuckles, was none other than Spellborn. He was about twice the size of an average man, and his arms were almost as thick as Bo's entire body. His jutting lower jaw was a dead giveaway, however, and the the brown cloak he wore looked as though it was splitting at the seams.
'You! Bin tryin ter magic ya but it won't take. What's the deal?' The man seemed almost affronted. Bo gasped, picking himself up even as he felt his jaw swelling and throbbing with pain. The chosen ones who had been fighting nearby quickly backed away from the situation and turned their attention elsewhere, leaving Spellborn on his own. Will muttered something darkly about the man's stench, while moving through rapid hand symbols. The air around Spellborn rippled as the white haired teen's magic closed in around his large opponent. With a grunt of surprise, the man lowered his brow, and grunted with exersion, planting his foot on the ground and punching out at Will. Although the blow did not physically connect, Will groaned, crumpling to his knees and dropping his weapon. Will clenched his fist, twisting it violently before thrusting it towards Spellborn. The evil magician was picked up into the air and slammed bodily into the ground. Bo launched himself at the downed giant, but received a kick to the torso as Spellborn quickly recovered. The hefty mage flipped to his feet with an agility Bo had not suspected and followed his kick through with another, sending Bo flying. Will continued to make hand gestures, his face draining of what little colour it had as he continued, and his hands becoming slower and slower in their motions, as though he was pushing them through clay. Dirt rose up around Spellborn forming a large upright coffin. slowly the lid was forcing itself closed, but Spellborn was desperately trying to muscle it open. Before it could close up entirely, Spellborn's arms burst through the lid, dispelling it with his own magic. Will gasped, dripping with sweat, but Spellborn was not looking too well himself. His face had taken on a grim expression, and he drooped slightly, giving him a hunch. Deliberately he pulled back one sleeve of his cowl, exposing a large tattoo. To Bo it looked like gibberish, but the man quickly slapped at the tattoo with one of his hands, before holding it out at Will. Faster than Will could dodge, thorny vines grew up from the ground, shattering the stone tiles, and grasping their prey tightly. Will cried out as he was lifted from the ground by the crushing tendrils. The white haired boy's hands were yanked apart, making it impossible for him to use magic, while Spellborn strode wearily toward him, clearly thinking himself the victor. The giant mage raised one of his over-large hands, directing the vines to wrap around Will's neck. Collecting himself once more, Bo rushed at the giant, managing to get in a cut or two, and to break the man's concentration. With a roar Spellborn turned, kicking out at Bo, who dodged, trying to buy Will some time. The white haired slave struggled, yanking his right hand from the vines but having deep scratches scored into his skin from the thorns. Hurriedly he performed a few brief hand symbols, and the vines burst into flame, popping and sizzling as they burned. Spellborn paused in his attack. With a look of intense pain crossing his face, he roared and staggered back, beating at his body as though trying to put out a fire. Bo took the opportunity to lunge forward, sinking his sword into the mage's torso. The man did not seem phased. Instead, blinded by pain, he grabbed Bo by his sword hand, and lifted the teen into the air. Bo tried to pull his arm free but to no avail. Almost like a baby with a rag doll, the large man dashed Bo onto the ground, before picking the boy up again. Bo grunted in pain, having his breath pummelled from his body he was momentarily stunned. Quickly Will used his opponent's distraction to shout a spell over the din of battle, using his most complicated symbols and gestures in quick succession. For a moment nothing seemed to happen, and Spellborn's grip tightened marginally around Bo's arm. The teen assumed Will must have failed, but then the giant staggered, and fell. Spellborn's grip faltered and Bo dropped heavily, scrambling to his feet to continue the battle. Bo looked at his sword, which was still sticking out of the giant's chest, realising what Will had done. The blade had sprouted sharp thin metal spikes that had lanced straight through Spellborn's internal organs, killing the man outright. Gasping for breath as though he'd run a marathon, Will sank slowly to sit on the ground. He was bleeding from numerous places, and Bo could tell just from looking that his friend was almost entirely spent. Despite his own aches and pains, which took the opportunity to make themselves known, Bo turned back to battle before weariness could overcome him. Alexander's army had almost managed to make it to the altar, and had pushed back the other forces while he and Will had been busy. Seeing that Ruben was just finishing his destruction of the golem insects, Bo grabbed his friend by the shoulder. He first made sure Will was being attended to before pushing nearer to the front of the scrum, and dragging Ruben along with him, aiming for where Alexander and Arty cutting down any who dared oppose them, forming a point that was slicing through the weaker parts of the demons' defensive formation. Alexander was clearly starting to wear out, and had discarded his largest axe, as one of his arms was temporarily out of action, no matter how good a job Hayes had done with healing him.
Alexander puffed with each swing of his axe, clearly not at his best. Arty had fallen into silence, knowing that nothing she could say would make the old weapon master hold back or take a break - after all if she had been in his position she would have been exactly the same. As they fought th
ere came a sharp battle cry that cut through the monotony of other sounds. Alexander shifted almost imperceptibly, making himself ready without losing any ground or falling into a completely defensive stance. Dropping in from above, The Queen landed before Arty and Alexander. She was holding two knives in her hands that were each roughly a foot long, and gleamed as though they were as hungry for battle as their owner.
'I command you to stop battling this instant, weapon master!' she demanded, ducking in to slash at Arty. Arty parried, confused as to what the woman was talking about. Alexander on the other hand remained grimly determined.
'Vould not zay thiz if you vere Queen. This iz best for kingdom, muzt deztroy ztone.' The woman growled angrily as she nimbly avoided Arty's retaliatory strikes, weaving her way past the other woman's guards to slash at her hands. Arty hissed as her knuckles were rapped with the sharp edge of the dagger and pulled back into a more defensive position with hot blood trickling down her hands. Alexander struck out with his axe, but The Queen quickly skipped out of the way.
'Then if you won't stop fighting, at least have the courtesy to die!' growled the woman, and with that she flung one of her daggers at Alexander' head with the speed of a striking snake. The weapon master reacted as fast as he could, bringing his hand up to shield himself. The blade buried itself into Alexander's palm, easily sliding straight through his hand, but coming to a halt before it could pierce his eye. The stocky man said nothing, and gave no other indication of pain, hurriedly dropping his hand to his side so he had an unimpeded view of battle. Arty stepped forward to attack while her opponent was down by one dagger, taking the yellow eyed woman by surprise. The Queen yowled as Arty left a deep wound in her upper left arm, and moved back towards her fighters. One of the brown-cowled fighters placed a heavy hand on her shoulder, and the wound healed instantly. Having completed this task, the fighter knelt to the ground, plunging their hand into the dirt they pulled out a sword, formed perfectly from rock. The sword shone for a moment before becoming solid metal with a regular grip. Gratefully The Queen accepted this new weapon, as the person in the cloak pulled back their cowl in order to better see what they were doing. The white wispy hair that was tied back into a short ineffective pony tail, along with the long, beaky nose and pale skin was enough to let even a desert warrior know who they were up against, even if they couldn't feel the aura of power that surrounded him.
'Lance.' growled Alexander bluntly. Without further pause for thought the weapon master dived forward with his axe, but Lance cast a spell that sent Alexander flying back through the front ranks of the slave army and further into a stack of crates that collapsed around him. The Queen darted forward, her new weapon at the ready, and engaged Arty in battle, rendering the warrior unable to stop Lance, who was striding boldly straight into the slave ranks. Bo, seeing what was coming, shrank back, letting go of Ruben. He hurried to where Alexander had landed, pulling crates away in the hopes of extricating the weapon master. Erasmus, who was nearby quickly flew to his friend, standing in between Lance and Bo. Lance frowned and waved his hand in a dismissive gesture, but Erasmus stood as strong as a rock while fey breezes swept over him, tearing his cowl to shreds and sending it flying away. The older mage smiled disingenuously, unaffected.
'You're not too bad, for a whelp.' Erasmus said nothing, but Bo knew that the desert mage was casting a spell of his own. For a moment neither Lance nor Erasmus moved a muscle. Sweat broke out on Erasmus' face, and Lance took a step back, and then another, as though he was being pushed physically. Bo noticed that the white haired mage was no longer standing on the ground, but was floating above it by two or three inches. Below him the rocks bubbled like boiling liquid, before tendrils oozed out into the air, trying and failing to grasp the older mage. Lance retaliated, coming to a halt, and even managing to take a step forward. With an inhuman roar, of the kind that sounded like tortured metal, Lance made a wide armed gesture. With a sudden groan, Erasmus fell to his knees, all of the animation left his body and he fell to the stone tiles and lay unmoving. Smirking triumphantly, Lance drifted back to earth, striding over the battlefield towards Bo like he was in no real hurry. Without his bright armour, Bo could see that Lance's body was spindly and thin, almost to an unnatural degree.
'I don't see why the master wants you of all people, nor why people seem so desperate to throw their lives away for you' the man's voice was cold and devoid of any charming eccentricity that he may once have had. 'You are pretty pathetic. Can't fight, don't know magic. Oh I have been watching you. I think I am a much better choice. See how powerful I am? I may old, but look at my strength!' He slammed Bo vindictively into a crate with a punch that moved too fast to dodge. Lance had clearly enhanced his body with magic to give him the same preternatural advantages of the demon possessed people. 'And once I have the demon inside me it won't matter. I will be technically immortal anyway.' Lance continued. He grabbed Bo around the throat with one hand as the boy struggled to rise. The old mage straightened up and peered intently at his prey, as though daring Bo to speak out. The teen had managed to slip a few fingers inside the stranglehold, but he found loosening Lance's grip to be impossible.
'But I thought you were insane?' choked Bo. Lance laughed, dropping the boy and giving him a solid kick. By this time a number of other slaves had decided to gang up on the powerful mage, lead by a determined looking Ruben, but almost without glancing up Lance blasted them away, toppling them like trees in a cyclone. One flew into a brazier, knocking it over and spilling fire into the frenzied fighting.
'Work with magic long enough and you will always become insane, remember? There is no right and wrong answer any more. How do you know what is sane when you can make two plus two equal the scent of yellow? I'm only sane because I realise how insane I actually am. You wouldn't understand that though would you, being too incredibly dull.' Again Lance viciously kicked Bo who was attempting to scramble away. The teen could see a sword lying amidst the rubble nearby. It had spilled out of one of the upended crates and Bo had been making his way towards it. Sliding slightly closer to the sword from the kick, the teen clutched at his abused ribs as Lance leaned down. 'This little spell is one I cooked up especially for you. You will die, but only after excruciating agony – or so I am lead to believe by my test subjects. You should have stayed safe like I told you to, rather than getting noticed by The Queen, and spoiling my plans. I know the master wants you alive, but battles are brutal and people die in them. Why should you be special?' With that Lance reached down, his spindly, long fingered hand covering Bo's face as he muttered a long string of words. All around the battle raged, and the fire grew, slowly inching along the ground towards the crates that were at the heart of the slave's fighting group. Bo reached out and snatched at the sword, finally close enough, and brought it down on Lance's shoulder while the old mage was still wondering why his spell hadn't worked. Lance howled leaping back and away from Bo. He stretched out one hand towards the teen, and everything behind and around Bo was blasted backwards forcefully, punching a huge hole in both of the slave and demon armies. Bo grinned tiredly, realising Lance hadn't figured out his secret yet.
'You think you are powerful? You haven't even realised yet that I have more powerful magic than you will ever have,' boasted the teen, pulling himself up and lunging forwards to slice at Lance with his sword. The mage barely managed to dodge, pausing to try another spell which tore the skeleton out of a nearby slave. They didn't even manage a scream. Bo attacked again, and slashed open a wound on Lance's arm. 'Have you figured out how to get around my shields yet?' taunted the teen, continuing his attack, and slowly driving Lance back towards the fire.
'This is impossible!' howled Lance, trying yet another spell that lifted the tiles around Bo into the air and turned them to dust. Bo thrust his blade toward the elderly mage, before following through with a powerful downward slash, managing to hit Lance with both attacks. Desperately the mage was scrambling for new spells, trying one after another. Finally he was back
ed up to the spilled fire, panting and sweating with the energy he had expended trying to prove his powers against the former slave. 'What kind of trickery is this? You aren't trained in magic! You're just a stupid illiterate guttersnipe!' Bo didn't reply, denying Lance the satisfaction of understanding. He lunged forward grimly, tackling Lance and driving his sword into the man's chest. Lance landed in the burning sludge that had spilled from the brazier and shrieked, bucking with the pain of the flames at his back, and scrambling at his attacker, trying to get Bo off. The teen held on grimly, not wishing to be thrown into the fire himself. Sweat coated his body, and Lance's still powerful fingers clawed frantically at his flesh, but in a moment it was over. Lance shuddered and fell still, the burning lake of sludge still surrounding him, and his death going largely unnoticed to those in battle around him. Bo scrambled back to safe land, shivering uncontrollably. He didn't look back at the body, not wanting to see the results of what he had done. Instead, Bo headed towards Ruben, focusing on what he had yet to do. It was time to end the fight and destroy the artefact.
