Spears of Ladis

by RG Long

  “Blasted underworld!” Gorplin shouted.

  Tratta came up beside him and shoved him. He had only just gotten the ax free as the demon crashed down to the ground. He and Tratta rolled out from underneath it just in time.

  The pair scrambled away as the demon thrashed wildly at the ground, its wails and shouts of pain sending tremors through Gorplin’s head.

  “Finish him already!” shouted Silverwolf.

  Gorplin couldn’t help but agree.

  He righted himself and then leaped onto the demon, throwing his ax down as hard as he could into what he guessed should be where the heart of the thing was. Giving out one final wail of pain, the demon began to glow as it split into a thousand pieces of fire and red hot metal.

  “Get outta there!” Tratta yelled. Gorplin could feel her hands pulling him away as he held desperately onto his ax. He had only just gotten back this blade and he was not going to lose it now.

  The next explosion was worse than Gorplin remembered as the demon’s energy released itself onto the battlefield. Tratta and Gorplin both went flying forward as they ran from the chaos. A hot ringing filled his ears even as he heard the words come into his head.

  “That still only counts as one!” the assassin was saying to him. “There are two more coming and I’m going to claim at least one of them.”

  “Like the devil you are!” Gorplin shouted.

  He looked up and saw that she was fiddling with a dagger that held a green rimstone in its hilt.

  “Hey,” he protested. “Where did you get that?”

  Silverwolf’s only smirked as she replied.

  “Race you for it.”

  As a demon begin to charge at them, it swung a giant mace wreathed in purple flames over its head.

  “You won’t get there first just because you’ve got longer legs!” Gorplin shouted.

  He did not enjoy spending time around the assassin.

  But he certainly loved fighting next to her.

  47: The Bravest

  “Miss Rivius!” Jurrin called out as loud as he could. “This way! Run this way!”

  The halfling was doing his best to get Miss Rivius moving to the east. For a moment she seemed to have misunderstood Holve’s instructions and ran south towards the battle instead of east alongside it. Master Ferrin was running beside her and doing everything he could to pull her in the correct direction.

  “I don’t believe the woman has ever seen battle before,” Galp was chattering away. “Most unfortunate for the circumstances, although it may be rather fortunate if one really considers the ramifications.“

  Jurin shook his head.

  He was still getting used to the skrilx who spent most of his time talking instead of being silent.

  “Miss Rivius!” he shouted again. Master Ferrin appeared to have a good hold of her now and was directing her away from the soldiers who had taken an interest in them.

  Galp held a short sword in his hands. Jurrin had his slingshot and had found a dagger on the battlefield. Master Ferrin had a shield and a sword as well.

  Jurrin wasn’t sure that Miss Rivius had any type of weapon on her.

  Although he knew he was capable of fighting, Jurrin still did not enjoy it. He would much rather try to get back with the rest of the group. He scanned the battlefield and couldn’t see any of their friends. Mister Holve and Mister Ealrin had run off with Miss Blume. A demon had separated them from Gorplin and the others.

  Jurrin realized with a start that no one in their group had any magical weapon or abilities to fight off the demons or the Speakers.

  They were on their own.

  Master Ferrin came running back with Miss Rivius on his arm. She looked pale and white.

  “We’ve got to go this way Mister Ferrin!” Jurrin said, pointing the way Holve had directed them to go. “That’s where everyone else was heading. Let’s try to make our way around those demons, though.”

  Jurrin definitely did not want to face those monstrosities without any magical weapon. He had been close enough to one before to know what kind of folly that would be.

  The four of them begin to move slowly east, skirting around any soldiers that they could. Jurrin managed to take down one soldier who wandered too close to them with his slingshot. Master Ferrin had taken care of the other four.

  Jurrin was still feeling rather small, even though Szabo had told him he was one of the most well-traveled halflings he’d ever met.

  It was hard to feel large and important next to such chaos and death.

  “This way!” he shouted, pointing the group towards a hill that looked like, if they could get behind it, would shield them from most of the fighting.

  The group managed to follow his directions easily. They made their way around the sandy dirt hill and saw that they had come upon the cave like formation in the side of the mountain.

  “I didn’t know this was here!” Jurrin said as he walked past the mouth opening.

  The suns were beginning to set as the day wore on. It cast just enough light into the mouth of the cave for Jurrin to see something that caught his eye.

  “Do you see that, Master Ferrin?“ he asked as he peered deeper into the mouth of the cave.

  At first he only saw a pair of red dots. Then several more appeared next to it. Then a large pair of yellow orbs blinked into existence. There was no time to do anything but push Master Ferrin along and shout.

  “Run!” Jurrin commanded, shoving the much larger man as hard as he could. “Run now!”

  The lizards burst out of the cave as if commanded by Jurrin’s words. The four of them ran as quickly as they could away from the cavern as an army of the lizardmen poured out of it.

  Jurrin was not ready to fight these things again.

  His feet carried him as fast as they could with Master Ferrin and Mis Rivius up ahead and Galp right by his side.

  A lizard ran up next to him and thrust a spear in his direction. Jurrin managed to dodge it and swipe at the lizard with his slingshot. He actually hit the thing in the nose, but at this range and with his short arms, he doubted he did any real damage other than to make it more mad.

  Just as they ran alongside the other side of the hill, Jurrin saw a contingent of speakers who had been focusing their attention on the magical cannon at their side. Turning to look at the commotion, Jurrin saw one of them raise his hand to cast a spell. He raised his hand in order to loose a stone, but found that he did not need to let the projectile fly. A spear of one of the lizards had pierced the man’s chest before he could let it go.

  “Up this way!“ Jurrin said. The four of them ran up the hill they had been skirting around as the lizards and speakers below began to engage in a battle.

  Looking over his shoulder, Jurrin saw that only a handful of the scaled beasts had decided to follow them.

  Galp swung his sword weakly at one that had come up on their heels and missed. Jurrin stabbed his dagger at the hand that stretched out for him and saw that he pulled back a blade covered in the cold blood of the lizard.

  At least he had managed to do one of them harm.

  Master Ferrin was looking over his shoulder at them, and waved them on towards a spot that he was running towards. The redheaded man still steered Miss Rivius along.

  They ran until they found themselves on top of a steep incline of rock at the base of a the hill.

  “Let’s get everyone up here!” Master Ferrin suggested.

  Jurrin certainly thought that it would be better than running wildly around the plains. They could wait for the skirmish between the speakers and the lizards to die down before heading past the battle. He helped Master Ferrin get Miss Rivius climbing upwards. Galp was next.

  Master Ferrin looked down at Jurrin with a wide smile on his face.

  “You’re certainly one of bravest creatures I’ve ever seen!” he said.

  Jurrin’s chest swelled with pride.

  “Thank you, Master Ferrin!”

  It was at that exact moment that a
spear hurled through the air and lodged itself firmly into Ferrin’s chest. With a great gasp he reached a hand out to Jurrin and flung the halfling up onto the hill. Jurrin hardly had time to look down after he landed in a heap on the top.

  Ferrin fell with a crash as the lizards began to scramble towards them and the speakers of Isol closed in around them.

  48: Possessed that Fight

  As soon as she had seen the little girl, Serinde had rushed to her and given her a warm embrace. Holding her back to see her more clearly she grabbed some of the locks of her hair and asked the obvious question.

  “What happened to you?“ she said with a grin.

  All this time she had been traveling with Barton and Silverwolf, she had only thought of Olma. She wanted to return and see the girl safe and unharmed.

  It was beyond her wildest hopes and dreams that she sat here right now safe.

  She did look different, however.

  Serinde felt her skin where the strange markings moved and twisted. They seem to respond her touch with degrees of fleeing from it and moving towards it.

  “They say I’m possessed,” Olma said quietly. “And I suppose I am. I’ve done extraordinary things even though I don’t know how I’m doing them or even why. But there’s something in my head. A small voice. It’s quiet now, but it was loud at first.”

  Serinde tried her best to not look concerned at this news. She saw that her face betrayed her, however, by the look Olma gave her. The young girl faltered.

  “Am I going to be OK?” she asked quietly.

  Serinde nodded and tried to fix her face with what she hoped was a reassuring mask.

  “Of course you will be!” she said

  Holve finished giving the instructions that Serinde heard snippets of. Head east and take someone magical.

  The choice was made clear for Serinde. She stood up and took Olma by the hand.

  “I’m going to get you out of here safely,“ she said. “I’ll help you find your uncle after this is over. We’ll find him together.”

  Olma looked like she was on the verge of a smile. That alone gave Serinde hope. Then the world fell apart around them as a blast of magic ripped through the sky and landed just in front of their group. Serinde leaped forward, hugging Olma with all of her might, hoping to protect the girl from the worst of the blast.

  When she shook her head and came to her senses, she saw that a red orb had encased the pair of them. Dirt slid off the top of it as Serinde looked around. Olma had her hands outstretched, like Serinde had seen Speakers do when they summoned up magic.

  “Olma?” she said quietly.

  The girl blinked and the orb disappeared. She shuddered as she lay on the ground. Serinde helped her get up.

  “See?” Olma said. “I don’t even know I’m doing it. I don’t know how I do it. It just happens. I...”

  She paused.

  “I’m scared.”

  Serinde heard the sound of the battle growing closer to them. She grabbed Olma’s hand and looked around. Most of their party had already fled east. At least she hoped they had. There weren’t any of them in sight.

  “We’ll figure it out together,” Serinde said. “But for now, we have to run!”

  They began to trot away from the blast. The elf couldn’t see any of their companions lying down on the ground, injured or worse. She prayed they had all made it. That they were way ahead of them.

  A demon had come crashing forward, its purple flaming body swinging a massive ax. Serinde saw Gorplin, Silverwolf and Tratta running after it.

  “We need to help!” she shouted.

  Olma resisted her pulling when she tried to take her in that direction. Serinde looked back, and gasped. Olma had turned a shade darker. Her skin was moving as one fluid pattern. A red glow began to emanate from around her.

  “We need to fight,” said a voice that was Olma’s, and yet not hers.

  “What’s wrong?” Serinde asked.

  Olma had turned her attention toward another demon that was charging forward. Serinde turned to shield the girl from it, wielding her sword but knowing it would do little good against a demon of unnatural flame.

  Then a blur of red sped past her.

  “Olma no!” Serinde began to say, reaching out a hand to grab the girl and stop her. But she was too quick. She was running full speed, faster than even Serinde could, towards the demon as it bellowed its terrible roar. Seride ran after her, still. She would not allow the girl to go off against such a monster alone.

  Arcs of red energy shot out of Olma’s hands as what looked like large red blades replaced her forearms. The demon held up its giant sword and shield as it charged forward. Olma jumped into the air and swiped at the demon. With one fluid motion, she rent the shield into four parts and the demon shrieked a horrible noise that assaulted Serinde’s ears.

  Still, she ran forward just as Olma hit the ground from her impossibly high jump. Serinde took a swing at the demon’s leg. Her arm jerked violently as her sword bounced off the unnatural armor. The demon turned to her with its helmeted head and giant breastplate. It began to swing its sword at her when a terrible wail escaped its mouth. At the same moment, a red blade shot through its armor and deep into its flesh.

  Olma flitted gracefully out of the way as the demon fell to the ground.

  “Run!” she shouted, as tiny lines appeared in the demon’s flesh and Serinde felt the air fill with energy. Following the order without second guessing turned out to be the right choice. The demon’s form exploded and they were propelled forward, running as fast as the pair of them could.

  Serinde grabbed Olma’s arm, no longer glowing red or in the shape of a blade, and ran with her east. The demon the others had been fighting was gone as well. To her horror, however, she saw that the Isolian army had caught up to their position.

  “Woah!” she said, pulling Olma back. “Not that way!”

  She was pulling Olma back just in time to see a rush of lizards pouring out of the base of the mountain. The foul beasts had somehow found their way here. One the size of a house came running out towards them and Serinde shrieked, even as she pulled Olma back.

  The girl wouldn’t budge again. Something was wrong.

  “What is it!?” Serinde yelled. They were hemmed in on all sides. It was important they move. Or do something other than just stand here.

  Serinde looked down at Olma and saw her glowing again.

  “He’s here,” she said, pointing out at the battle.

  Serinde turned to look.

  All she saw was a blaze of red falling to the ground, away from a pillar of blue light.

  A cry of rage echoed over the battlefield as the shape of a man soared over the fight in a blaze of purple flames.

  49: Sacrifices

  Blume sat up on the hill Ealrin and Holve had fought to get her to. Jurrin was consoling a shaken Rivius as Silverwolf, Gorplin, and Tratta climbed up the steep incline as well.

  All around them was death and destruction. Demons were raining down on the battlefield from all directions. The three magical cannons had been decimated by a host of demons that had pummeled down on it.

  Apparently they had some type of grudge against the Speakers of Isol who wielded them. Blume remembered being forced to use one of those abominations and hated that she felt a slight sense of pleasure at seeing them torn apart.

  Ealrin had not made it up the hill yet. He said something about Serinde and Olma and ran down again into the fray. They were protected up here for the time being, but for how long? What would happen to them if they stayed on the the hill? Would they ride out the battle here? Or would it overtake them?

  Serinde climbed up onto the hill and Gorplin rushed over to her.

  “Where’s the lass?” he said, helping the elf up onto the small patch they had claimed for their own. Tratta ran over to bat down a lizard who had attempted to follow Serinde up and over.

  Serinde just pointed.

  There was an explosion of blue and purple
over towards the rear of the Isolian line. Blume could feel the brute force of the magic emanating from the two bursts of color. Feeling the rimstone in the bangle the Potion Master had given her, she knew it wouldn’t take long.

  The battle was growing more intense, with all sides taking heavy losses and the demons raining down death wherever they came.

  She also remembered the last time she had gotten involved in such a battle, what it had cost her and those who cared for her.

  So many people had sacrificed for her. Her friends had laid down their lives for her. Ealrin and Holve had protected her from so many dangers, many of which she got herself into. So many had fought for her.

  Perhaps it was time she return the favor.

  Blume saw Holve pulling Ealrin up over the hill and the two exchanged a conversation. She didn’t hear much of it. She had made up her mind. Standing up, she walked towards the edge of the hill, her bangle glowing as she began to feel its power grow within her.

  Words were said that had little meaning to her. There was only one thing that kept her going forward. One thought that resonated in her mind other than her need to keep her friends from death.

  “I’ve stopped this before,” Blume said. “I’ll do it again.”

  She meant it. She knew it. She had a power within her that was untied to the ancient artifact Silverwolf was supposed to have gotten her.

  That Yada still had.

  Blume was a powerful speaker. She had called down magic others could not and stopped magic far greater than most saw hers as. She was not useless. She was powerful.

  “I am not weak,” she said again to Ealrin.

  “Blume!” Ealrin said, a pleading tone in his voice. “You’ve done so much today! If you go up against them now...”

  It pained her to hear it. Before she gave any of them time to consider, or talk her out of it, or try to hold her back, she ran toward the edge of the hill and jumped.

  Using her magic to slow her fall, she blasted a path of destruction from the hill to the place where the three magic users were dueling. Dirt solidified into a solid wall on either side of the blast, preventing the soldiers of Isol and Theocracy from attacking each other. The channel she had dug with the blast served as a small buffer. The battle continued, albeit fractured, on either side of the divide she had made. The war in front of her, however, continued. She would stop it.