Warlord of the Forgotten Age

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Warlord of the Forgotten Age Page 31

by Charles E Yallowitz


  “Did you really think people with your potent auras could hide for long?” the immortal asks as he drifts to the ground. He leans to his right to avoid three daggers, one of them spinning back into Sari’s hand. “Two of you are incapacitated and another is missing. Quite frankly, all of you are proving to be a disappointment. I may have to track down my former agent in order to get a decent fight. My hope was to give her another chance to join me after I win, but I do need to make an example of someone who could be considered a threat.”

  “Honestly, I find you to be a disappointment,” Delvin states as he climbs out of the hole. He blocks the Baron’s sword with his shield and steps to the side to avoid falling over the edge. “All this time we were preparing for a real monster. The immortal who terrifies the gods and has been erased from history. What do you turn out to be? A man who loves the sound of his own voice and lacks the guts to really fight us. If you were even half as strong as your reputation then Luke would have been killed before we arrived. None of us would be standing here either. Don’t try to say this is about putting on a show for your future citizens. You had a magical dome put over the city, which blocked them from seeing your supposed victory. That goes against that story you kept spouting in Vir’s Castle. Honestly, I expected to battle a monster, but all I’m seeing is a coward standing before me.”

  “Impressive attempt to make me angry,” the Baron says, holding out his hand to show that it is trembling. He tries to catch Delvin’s blade, but the champion circles the point under the warlord’s hand and slashes him across the knuckles. “Well, I have already tested myself against your channeler, your immortal, and your forest tracker. I’m willing to see how well I do against such an infamous mercenary as yourself. As you said, if I wish to put on a show then I should do so.”

  Delvin gets his shield up to block a powerful lunge, which sends him flying over the exposed basement. Planting his feet, the warrior awkwardly skids to a stop and leans away from the Baron’s next attack. Slicing up, he lets his bastard sword skid along his enemy’s armor until it gets near the man’s chin. Tightening his grip and flicking his wrist, he slices the immortal’s face and delivers an elbow to the chest out of habit. Delvin cringes at the feeling of his arm hitting solid metal and his fingers going numb for a terrifying instant. Stepping away while blocking, the champion stays on the defensive and gradually slows down his movements. It is too late that the Baron realizes he has been drawn too close, which allows the champion to duck under his next swing and stab at a clasp on his waist. The immortal blocks the shot by dislocating his shoulder, the limb popping back into place as he cautiously moves away.

  “Very smart to aim for the ties and clasps that keep my armor on,” the Baron declares, deflecting every attack. Thinking he sees an opening, he lunges forward, but his blade skids off the champion’s shield. “I take back what I said about you being a disappointment. Yet, you all seem weaker when you work together. That first rally is the only time all of the champions attacked me at once. I don’t see much teamwork among you.”

  Using both hands to swing his sword, Delvin rushes forward and pushes the Baron’s blade towards the ground. “The thing about us is that we do have a habit of tripping over each other at times. The temples focused more on the individual than the group, which is a mistake on Gabriel’s part. Yet, we do have some tricks. For example, I don’t have to say anything out loud to get one of my friends to follow my plan. A simple smile or wiggle of the fingers that you would overlook means a lot to someone like Sari.”

  The Baron looks to where the gypsy is rearing back to hurl a dagger that is covered in glistening ice. He shoves Delvin away in order to block the projectile, but she stops at the last second to playfully juggle the weapon. The immortal is about to turn back to his previous opponent when he notices an orange light bouncing off his sword. He is still turning around when Timoran’s axe slams into his back and shatters his armor. The Baron is sent bouncing into the open basement, but he immediately soars out of the rubble while his platemail continues to fall off his body. For the first time, he lets his temper get the best of him and screams while sending a blast of light at the barbarian. Timoran bats the powerful spell into the air where it continues going into the atmosphere.

  “You have destroyed my favorite sword and best armor,” the Baron says while fresh clothes appear on his body. With a deep breath, he regains his composure and floats further away from the champions. “I think it is time you lost something. Nothing as superficial as my daughter’s arms. I see a perfect target that will make sure you suffer.”

  A black arrow sprouts from his finger and he carefully aims it at each champion before abruptly launching it at Nyx, who is still unconscious. Dropping his sword, Delvin sprints across the rubble as fast as he can and leaps in the way of the projectile, which passes through his shield like a phantom. The barbed point hits him in the right eye and sends an agonizing shock along every nerve in his body. He falls to his knees screaming, the arrow now stuck in the socket instead of pushing into his brain like he expected. The warrior can feel tendrils running off the metal point and gathering within his skull, which is aching from the pressure. Focusing on his aura, he battles to keep the infection at bay while collapsing onto his side.

  “Don’t pull it out!” Dariana shouts as she gets to her friends. Using her feet to drag Delvin away from Nyx, she scans his mind and uses his reactions to analyze her father’s spell. “It’s all physical, which is a good thing. The arrow is meant to get inside and bond with the nearest organ. If you remove the spell then it will take your out brain with it. I’m enhancing your natural healing abilities and lending you some of my aura to help.”

  Dariana is caught by surprise when Delvin scrambles onto his feet and tackles her behind part of a fallen chimney. The warrior collapses again and gasps for air, but refuses to let his friend step into the open. She stops struggling when she peeks over the stone to see Timoran and Sari diving into the basement. In every direction flames ripple along the ground and lightning pounds the larger piles of rubble into ashes. Thinking it is her father, Dariana prepares to defend her injured friend from the more powerful immortal. It is when she hears a familiar scream of rage and all of Gaia becomes hotter that the telepath ducks back out of sight. An explosion shakes the city as Nyx launches herself at the Baron and sends him sailing toward the griffin mountain with a punch that delivers twenty compacted force spells. Coiled in serpentine flames, the enraged channeler rockets after her enemy, leaving a fiery trail in her wake.

  “Go find Luke and then help her,” Delvin whispers, rolling onto his back. He reaches up to touch the arrow, which is beginning to turn yellow. “If I die then Nyx will get weaker, so I need to stay here and focus entirely on healing. It will take time, but I can do it. Once I’m whole, I will find the rest of you. Won’t be very hard since I doubt there will be much of a city left by that point. Since I know you’re going to be keeping a thought on me, Dariana, I want you to update me on what’s going on. I’ll share any plans that I come up with.”

  “Even with your body too weak to continue, your mind will be with us,” the telepath says, giving him a kiss on the forehead. She leaves him with a better understanding of the spell he is battling and a few suggestions on how to heal quicker. “A little present, our dear strategist. If I sense anyone else who can help then I will send them your way.”

  “Can I stay here?” Sari asks as she watches Nyx sail to the other side of the city. The channeler slams into the docks, but is immediately back in the sky and hurtling toward the Baron. “I’m seriously scared to get involved in that. I mean, I know she’s on our side, but I’ve never seen Nyxie that angry and . . . destructive.”

  “I am sure our fire sprite will be calmer by the time we find Luke,” Timoran declares before sniffing at the air. Picking up the forest tracker’s unusual scent, he heads in the opposite direction of the battle. “At least I think she will be.”

  *****

  The griffin rid
ers dive through a rain of blood-dripping arrows, the beasts ignoring their injuries to attack the enemy archers. Once splattered across the top of the arena, the creatures swiftly return to continue their assault, but the Gaian forces are satisfied with keeping their attention on the sky. Casters send spells hurtling into the undead army, the golden skeletons proving to be resistant to anything weaker than a head-sized fireball. The small collection of priests has more luck with their holy blasts, but they soon find their forces dwindling due to the phantoms that lunge out of the ground beneath their feet. Whenever they are touched, the mortals are driven into a trance in which they battle the ghost in their mind. Only a handful of the possessed have managed to escape, the others transforming into zombies that are immediately burned by their former allies. The soldiers fall even faster to the spirits since they lack the protection that comes from a lifetime of studying magic. Refusing to retreat, the Generals send spotters onto the rooftops to whistle warnings about the phantoms. It is not a perfect plan, but those on the buildings continue to hold their ground and depend on Trinity to protect them. With the channeler leaping and darting around the narrow battlefield, the undead forces refuse to put all of their strength against the weaker mortals and keep at least some attention on the deadly woman.

  “Divide your forces among the others, Queen Wrath! The spirits appear to be avoiding all of your people!” Lord Skyblade shouts before charging into a mob of skeletons. The bald nobleman makes quick work of the creatures, but his breathing is already becoming strained and labored. “I really wish I could call Cyphon, but he would be nothing more than a target for the Baron. How are your people doing, Lord Karwyn?”

  “The phantoms are focusing on us,” the half-elven priest replies as he destroys a ghost with his glowing staff. Another tries to get him from below, but his metallic legs prevent it from possessing him. “I am lucky that they cannot get inside my body that way, but I will be our only source of holy magic if this keeps up. From what Quail said, there are more undead flowing out of the hole. He is trying to find routes for us to use to get around the main army, but those specters are tearing our forces apart.”

  “What if we were to separate into smaller groups?” Mayor Highrider suggests while bashing four skeletons with his hammer. His platemail buzzes and sends a charge into the street, which scares off an approaching spirit. “Our concern is this army. The champions can handle the Baron, so we need to think about keeping these monsters busy and out of their way. If we split up and scatter ourselves around the city then they will do the same. The champions won’t have to worry about a mob of skeletons and ghosts.”

  Aedyn whistles to two nearby priests and they slam their staves against the ground at the same time to unleash a blast of light. “That should give us a minute or two. I agree with Mayor Highrider, but I will send my brothers and sisters out of the city. We will need healers in the near future and our losses have been greater than those of the other armies. Any word on the chaos elves?”

  “They’re like bats on a moonless night,” Skyblade replies with a laugh. Pulling out a horn, he blows five sharp notes to signify a change in tactics. “I never know where they are, but they show up out of nowhere to take enemies out. Think I saw a few of their casters heading for the arena to help with the archers. Amazing considering there are a couple hundred of them. Imagine if they were still with the Baron during this time. My faith in our chances would be greatly diminished.”

  “Thank the gods for small favors,” Highrider replies as he rushes forward. The towering half-orc knocks ten equally large enemies back to give the surviving priests and priestesses a better chance at retreating. “These creatures are getting more exotic. I didn’t even know trolls could be turned into skeletons. At this rate, we’ll have a Bone Dragon or some kind of petrified demon showing up in the next ten minutes. I say we leave something like that to our guardian channeler up there.”

  Without warning, the skeletons stop and the only sound is the explosive battle between the Baron and Nyx. Not long after the undead go silent, the archers freeze and begin to harden, their crimson bodies turning into ugly scabs. All of the ghosts rise out of the street in the middle of the other monsters and hover in place as if they are waiting for a signal. The casters and soldiers refuse to attack out of fear of it being a trap, most of them backing away from the enemy. Their caution pays off when the golden skeletons and bloody archers explode to become phantoms that shed their physical forms with flailing limbs and chattering teeth. The few mortals who are touched by the ghosts drop to the ground and their own spirits rise to join the Baron.

  Unleashing a hideous moan, the spectral army condenses and prepares to wash through the streets in an attempt to devour anything with a heartbeat. They are stopped by a blast of putrid emerald light that explodes from the center of their forces. Shrieking and convulsing, the ghosts gradually become solid enemies that can be hurt by unenchanted weapons. Many of the creatures bang their heads against the ground in an attempt to pass through the stone, the abuse leaving their faces cracked and crumbling. Refusing to retreat or surrender, the undead rush in every direction to continue their vicious assault. Still strong and unhindered by their non-lethal injuries, the phantoms are able to put up a fight, but the nerve-wracking fear they once induced has been greatly reduced.

  “Was that you?” Trinity asks as she lands next to Aedyn. She casually knocks a few ghosts away with a tornado blast, her interest in the fight waning by the second. “I’ll handle any enemies that avoided whatever you cast. Then, I’ll be going after the Baron. From what I can tell, Nyx is holding her own, but she’s too enraged to get the upper hand.”

  “I understand, but that spell was not mine,” the black-haired priest replies before dissolving a phantom with a light blast. Sensing something nearby, he glances at a rooftop in time to see a short form disappear behind a chimney. “I thought I sensed that energy. Guess this was an attempt to apologize. Though, I’m not sure who was doing it.”

  *****

  “Are you happy now, thief?”

  “Yeah, I think I have all my affairs in order.”

  “A rather morbid way of putting it.”

  “Well, it isn’t like I’ll live as long as you.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Keeping your spirit around in some fashion has some appeal to me.”

  “Guess we’ll discuss terms when we get . . . where are we going?”

  “Home. I believe it is finally time I learned from my former teacher and settle down.”

  “In that case, can you let me steal some waterproof boots?”

  *****

  Having left the main army to search for Luke, Kira and Fizzle vault over the rooftops to avoid the creatures below. Whenever the heiress needs to leap over a street, she tosses the club end of her weapon into the air and lets the drite swing her to safety. Coming to where they last saw the chimera, the pair are about to climb down when they feel a wave of heat hit them from behind. The building lurches to the side and half of it melts from contact with Nyx and the Baron, both of whom are covered in flames. Unaware of Kira and Fizzle’s presence, the combatants continue battering each other with fists and spells while inside the crumbling structure. Elemental blasts punch through the roof, which is becoming more dust than solid stone with every blow. Driven to the corner, the unlucky pair look for an easy escape, but they are already tilting high into the air. With no other choice, Kira hoists herself onto the ledge and jumps over the street while Fizzle swoops to catch her weapon.

  The drite’s mouth is nearly on the chain when Nyx is knocked through a wall with a wind spell that whips the heiress away from her friend. She can already see the other building starting to collapse from the attack as the enraged channeler returns to the sky. Tossing her kusari-gama over her shoulder, she prays that Fizzle is still there to catch her. Another blast of destructive magic hits the street and sends chunks of rocks bouncing in every direction, the damage causing all of the houses to tumble into the smoking sinkho
le. A distant voice tells Kira that the tiny dragon has been blown out of reach, the wave of force knocking him two blocks over and her high into the air. Spotting a crumbling ledge, she swings her weapon and stretches her body as far as she can. The sickle catches the stone and she sails toward the wall at a speed that makes her close her eyes. The heiress yelps when someone catches her by the waist and she abruptly feels like she is dangling upside down.

  “Do I have to tell you how bad an idea it is to be on your own here?” Luke asks while putting Kira on her feet. Wiping the dust off her clothes, the forest tracker is knocked away by Fizzle barreling into him. “Okay, so you’re not alone. I still have to fight the Baron and broken ribs won’t help me, so be a little gentle. Glad to see both of you are safe and that Trinity got my message. Didn’t expect her to take out the entire wall though.”

  “Channelers don’t seem to be very subtle in their solutions,” Kira says, checking the sky for signs of Nyx. She stares in awe at how the distant mountain is missing part of its top, two shining figures barely visible in the smoke. “Are you sure the rest of you are needed? Looks like Nyx is going to tear him apart on her own. Makes one wonder why they needed six when one really angry channeler is knocking the Baron around the city.”

  “She’s getting tired and hurt while he’s barely scratched,” Luke points out with a worried scowl. Walking around the crater, the pair duck into an alley and climb one of the quivering buildings. “Being up here should make it easy to see the others. I have a really bad feeling though. That much rage makes me think something happened to one of the others. Did you see any of them when you got into the city?”

 

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