by Rex Hazelton
That's when Ay'Roan and J'Aryl attacked.
Using swords remade on Vlad'War's Anvil, the brothers smote the Sorcerer's feet, stinging him like scorpions do when their lives are in danger. And like scorpions, they were no real threat to Ab'Don, but they could prove to be enough of a nuisance to distract the Sorcerer and lessen the fury he was throwing at their father. Yet with all the magic their weapons possessed, the most they could do was send threads of pain racing up the colossus' legs like inverted roots searching for water.
With all of the annoying pain the brothers dispensed, the one who eventually drew Ab'Don's attention away from the Hammer Bearer was the tiny green cretchym who left Seym Blood to help Jeaf. Though Bala couldn't penetrate the magic that was protecting her target, Bala's needle like blade's unremitting assault on Ab'Don's eyes was bothersome to say the least. So much so that he began swatting at the darting pest with his sword.
When Ab'Don finally decided to get rid of the pest once and for all, the Oakenfel brothers ran to their father in a moment of reprive the cretchym's valor had purchased for them. Using their blades to cut a path through the flame and wraiths, J'Aryl and Ay'Roan climbed on top of their father's fallen body and followed the trail of oozing blood until they reached its source. Seeing the deep cut that ran across their father's chest and his nearly severed arm, the brothers took one wound apiece and used the portion of Andara's Magic they had worked into their swords to speed up their father's healing. But before this could be done, the two were unexpectedly drawn into their father's wounds along with the amber-colored mist that accompanied the Healing Wizard's power.
Later- after Roy'Dohk broke away from Seym Blood and came to drive the diminuitive, green cretchym away from his master- the Sorcerer swung his sword through the swarm of wraiths and fire that helped keep Jeaf incapacitated. The sound of steel striking steel rang out over the battlefield. And before the resounding noise had time to dissipate, the Sorcerer's blade was pushed out of the writhing cloud by another sword that had mysteriously manifested itself, one that had blue light dancing along its sharp edges. An arm whose skin had a silvery cast to it followed as the Hammer Bearer rose up out of the noisome cloud. Pushing the Sorcerer and his blade away with his newfound sword, Jeaf stood to his feet. Not a trace of the Hammer Bearer's wounds could be found.
After brushing the cloud of wraiths and fire away, like one sweeps snow off their coat once they come indoors from a winter storm, Jeaf turned to face his enemy with a hammer in one hand and a sword in the other. His amber-colored eyes had taken on a redish-brown cast, his hair was as dark and wavy as J'Aryl's, and his strength was multipied.
Not taken back by Jeaf's transformation, for those who use magic know that the unexpected was to be expected, Ab'Don moved forward, swinging his sword as he came. Sword against sword, hammer against shield, the duel picked up speed as the two adversaries drew on their reserves of power. Being the smaller of the two giants, the Hammer Bearer proved to be faster. Buttressed by the stone tables' strength, that was in turn reinforced by chunks of the cavern's ceiling, the Sorcerer survived direct hits that would have toppled a fortress wall.
As the two giants battled across the stone floor's broad expanse, Mar’Gul and Alynd moved the Neflin back lest they get trampled by the two swift moving behemoths. The Hag and guards, who had survived the Sorcerer's fire that had ibeen nadvertently directed at them, were quick to do the same. Many of the guards disappeared into the corridors that led to the dungeon's holding cells. These were met by the wild beasts that had sought refuge there before them.
Each a skilled warrior, the Sorcerer and Hammer Bearer moved from offense to defense and back again, so seemlessly that passerbys might guess the fight was rehearsed. But it wasn't. This was an unstructured fight to the death. Any design that emerged was fashioned by necessity's hand.
After affixing his shield to his sword arm, Ab'Don stepped into the pool filled with black water and fished around for the slograp with his free hand. Finding one, he pulled it out of the water and threw it at the Neflin. Others followed. The Lorn Elves and slograp were soon caught in a fight for survival. Killing each other was not as important as trying to stay alive in the midst of the squirming chaos the slograp created as they struggled to get back to the safety of the pool of water.
Distracted by the confusing fight that ensued between the Neflin and slograp, the Hammer Bearer missed his opportunity to keep Ab'Don from scooping Mar’Gul up.
After dispatching one of the larger amphibious monsters, who was crushing the Neflin beneath its overwhelming bulk, Jeaf heard Dog squeal after Ab'Don's shield caught him in mid-air as he lept for the giant's throat and knocked him away from the woman he was trying to protect. Turning to see what was happening, for Dog's yelp came from the direction that the Sorcerer had gone, he was horrified to see that Ab'Don had his massive hand clasped around a cloud of amber-colored vapor Mar’Gul was using to defend herself.
NOOOOO! Jeaf's mind shouted out as his brain felt like it would explode. Why can't I protect those I love? He chastised himself as the memory of Muriel, hanging on the iron tree that Ab'Don's magic created to detain her, flashed before his mind’s eye. He shook himself as he thought, Not this time. Then he moved against the Sorcerer as he added, Not my aunt.
Turning to look at Jeaf, Ab'Don laughed as he used his garagantuan hand to squeeze the cloud of amber-colored light that protected Mar’Gul.
At first, the joint efforts of Andara and Vlad'War's Magic withstood the press. Then the cloud began to collapse and Pearl shouted, "Bacchanor!" Searching the battlefield for her husband who had gone off to fight the slograp, she said, “I love you,” when she saw him flying toward her.
Still in griffin form, Bacchanor came to his wife's rescue. Striking the massive hand that was trying to squash her, like he was a griffin crashing into the ocean in search of fish, the shape-shifter was soon tearing at the Sorcerer's flesh. His roars were terrifying to hear. His claws were a blur of motion. But try as he might, Bacchanor couldn't free his wife. And before he had time to say a parting word, the magic protecting Mar’Gul gave way and she was crushed to death. Bacchanor's roar was more like a scream as he felt his wife's spirit brush past him as she began the long trek out of the Warl of the Living.
An instant later, the shape-shifter flew up and attacked the Sorcerer's face, tearing away at Ab'Don with claws as long as a man's fingers and as sharp as finely-honed knives. Determined to hurt the one who had killed his wife, his wings kept him aloft as he used all four of his paws to unleash his rage.
If truth were known, he had lost his will to live. He wanted to die with Pearl so he could accompany her to the Warl of the Dead. But if he was going to leave the Warl of the Living, Bacchanor would do his best to make his wife's murderer pay for his crime before he left. No longer a Healer, he was winged-vengeance. But the Sorcerer was too great for him. Though his magic was strong enough to inflict a measure of pain, Bacchanor was soon struck with the hilt of the Sorcerer's giant sword and sent tumbling to the ground in a broken heap.
To add to his humiliation, Ab'Don dropped Mar’Gul's corpse on top of the unconscious shapeshifter. The Sorcerer could have simply stepped on Bacchanor to end any threat he posed to him, but Ab'Don wouldn't deny himself the perverse pleasure of leaving the shapeshifter a gift to greet him if he survived the blow he had been dealt and awoke. The thought of the pain that would sweep over the wizard as Mar’Gul's cold body confirmed that her death was not a dream excited the Sorcerer. Ab'Don's only regret was that the continuing fight might make him miss the moment the wizard looked into Mar’Gul's lifeless eyes.
Mar’Gul's death was too much for Jeaf to take. It was too much for all those who loved the great lady to see as well. Not only did the Hammer Bearer witness the murder, those inside him saw it along with him. Like a slap in the face, the horrendous deed awakened something that had lain dormant for far too long in the Fane J'Shrym... MAGIC! The same magic that enabled their forefathers to establish the
glorious Age of Star's Blood and made it possible for Vlad'War's Child to meld them into the Hammer Bearer's form, though the later feat was done with only the tiniest flame of their supernatural potential being lit. But now, Mar’Gul's death ignited the flame into an infernal that glutted Jeaf with power he thought was impossible to contain. After the fear of being torn apart by the magic that welled up in him subsided, the Hammer Bearer and the rest of the Fane J'Shrym attacked the Sorcerer.
After dropping Mar’Gul's crumpled body on Bacchanor's own, Ab'Don took hold of the shield he had strapped to his sword arm and braced himself to meet the charging Hammer Bearer head on. When Jeaf's hammer blow drove him back into the pool of dark water, the Sorcerer knew he was in trouble. The power the second blow sent into his shield confirmed his fear.
He thought Mar’Gul's death would throw the raiders into confusion. Since she was a spiritual leader to the Neflin and Brie'Shen alike, he was certain her magic kept his enemies moving as a cohesive force. He had expected her loss to shake those who had been absorbed into the Hammer Bearer long enough to weaken him. But that didn't happen.
Instead of Mar’Gul's death giving rise to grief, it bred fury. Instead of splintering the raiders, it drew them together by giving them a single purpose- to kill the murderer. Escaping Chylgroyd's Keep was no longer upper most in their minds. This was made apparent by the intensity of the Hammer Bearer's blows. They were so devastating that the Sorcerer's shield arm was numbed by their force, so much so, that he dropped the shield into water that rose up to his waist.
With a cloud of steam rising up out of the dark water as the shield gave off its heat, Ab'Don got ready for the next blow.
Catching the Sorcerer's sword with his own, Jeaf held it back as he brought his hammer down on Ab'Don's head.
Staggered by the blow, the Sorcerer fled from the Hammer Bearer. Stumbling through the dark water, Ab'Don reached out for the cavern's wall to use it both to keep his balance and to draw on the keep's remaining power. Soon his spirits rose as he felt Chylgroyd's Keep empty more of its dark power into him through the hand that was pressed up against the wall. Then he heard the Hammer Bearer shout with a voice loud enough to break stone and his mood soured once again.
"YOU FIRE-BLASTED WORM!" Jeafed roared out his words. "YOU'LL KILLED MY AUNT."
Looking into eyes to terrible to behold, Ab'Don remembered the woman he hung on the iron tree his magic conjured up during the Battle of the Temple of the Oak Tree. Hoping to slow the giant, who was rapidly pushing through the pool of water, Ab'Don shouted, "If you kill me... your wife will die too. Remember the iron branch I used to pierce her heart. It ties her life to mine. If I die, Crooked Finger will make sure she joins me." Then he recalled that Muriel was pregnant at the time, so he added, "And your children will die too."
But it was too late to make make threats. They wouldn’t work anymore. Mar’Gul's death, and the host of enraged Fane J'Shrym that drove the Hammer Bearer on had seen to that.
The sword in Jeaf's left hand disappeared into his arm a moment before he reached out for the gargantuan silver hammer with two hands and swung it with all of his might as he yelled, "DIE YOU WORTHLESS WORM!"
Shattering the Sorcerer's sword on impact, the speeding hammer struck Ab'Don on the head with such force it drove all of Chylgroyd's Keep's magic out of him in an eruption of blinding light that sent the dark pool of water to boiling. A super-heated shock wave raced out of the light and swept through the cavern in a bubble of power that expanded in all directions until it struck stone with such explosive energy that the earthquake was brought back to life.
The earlier earthquake was only a warm up for this one, since it was quite literally shaking the keep to pieces. The rocks that fell from the cavern's ceiling into the pool of dark, bubbling water were joined by the Hag and stone table tops that flew out of the staggering Sorcerer's shrinking form. Looking like mist at first, each quickly coalesced into the form they had before the Sorcerer had melded them into his body. A moment later the stones and Hag fell into the scalding hot water. All the while a river of the Sorcerer's blood fell with them from his wounded skull.
Looking like rats escaping a sinking ship, or in this case a shrinking ship, the Hag wasted no time in swimming for the shore. The magic that was protecting them from the boiling water was waning fast. If they weren't faster, they would be cooked alive in the frothing black water. As it was, many of them were struck down by pieces of the ceiling and the stone table tops that fell along with them. Stumbling in the direction the Hag were fleeing, holding his bloodied head as he did, Ab'Don inadvertently helped the Hag in their flight to safety as the pool’s water heaped up in front of him as he sloshed along.
Blown backwards when the explosion of immeasurable power erupted, the Hammer Bearer found himself sitting in the water in a part of the shoreline the Sorcerer avoided as he fled. Stunned by the volatile meeting of magic. His powers were nearly as compromised as Ab'Don's were. The Fane J'Shrym were falling away from his quickly diminishing form as fast as the Hag were falling away from their master's dwindling body.
So much magic had been expended in protecting the giant combatantsand in the head on collision between Vlad'War and the Sorcerer's powers that little was left. For all practical purposes the battle was over. Who actually won was in question. With Chylgroyd's Keep crumbling about them, the need for flight was outweighing the desire to fight. The earthquake was the enemy now. Surviving its onslaught was the chiefest thought in the combatants' minds.
In time, the Hag amassed in a corner of the cavern where they surrounded their master who had returned to his normal size. Grieviously wounded, the Sorcerer was struggling to keep a hold on life. Like a beast gives a final flurry before it dies, the last of the keep's magic came to his aid, but instead of trying to heal his wounded head, the magic strengthened the fire that the fraethym had created in the blood-fed pits so it could build a protective dome over Ab'Don, the Hag, and the remaining guards. Many of the Malamor and Orskovyts had already fled once they saw the Sorcerer fall in battle. Unaffected by the plummeting stones, the wraiths flew through the air bemoaning their master's condition. The dark spell that bound them to the Sorcerer drove them to do this.
When the columns nearest the cavern fell, for the dungeon was not located directly under the keep proper, an opening was created that let in dawn's first light as well as a flight of griffin that homed in on Seym Blood's incessant roaring that was so loud it could be heard above the earthquake's clamor. Having survived a second fight with Roy'Dohk, bleeding from the wounds the winged-demon had inflicted on him, Seym Blood sensed his brethren's presence as they braved the crumbling keep in hopes of saving the Hammer Bearer and those who had gone to rescue him.
Once the flight of griffin arrived, seeing that the fighting was over, they urged both men and elves to climb onto their backs as they began evacuating the raiders. With only fifty of the winged-lions on hand, the rescue would be done in shifts. Luckily the earthquake soon rolled off into the distance and left Chylgroyd's Keep behind. Still, falling rocks were a concern. And the fiery dome gave reason for apprehension. Who knew what was gestating under the foreboding canopy that seemed in no hurry to crack open and reveal its contents?
As each wave of raiders flew out of the broken down keep on the winged-deliverers’ powerful backs, they were desposited on the ground east of the towering citadel Here, Vlad'Aeroth had horses waiting for them since he and the other Fane J'Shrym who were with him had subdued all of the unsuspecting horsemen that were stationed there to protect the keep. Killing those that resisted, the others were bound hand and foot while their horses were taken from them.
Once it was determined that the earthquake had ended, the griffin, with help of the Fane J'Shrym and Neflin, went to the prisoners that remained in their cells and offered to free them. Many accepted the proposal. Many didn't. Those that didn't were afraid of angering their captors whose painful torturing had stripped their wills from them. So they slumped
to the ground and waited for their return. Those that did accept the offer were given another choice once they were outside of the keep. They could return to the homes they had been taken from or come along with the raiders.
As it turned out, there were enough horses to carry all who had escaped Chylgroyd's Keep, given the griffin who carried three Neflin a piece on their powerful backs. After pillaging the storehouses that provided the cavalry food, there was sure to be enough food to feed those who had escaped.
With a rear guard still in the keep- Jeaf, his sons, and the Elf-Man numbered among them- Rybara was seen carrying a limp form in his arms as he approached the griffin who were waiting to transport the last of the raiders to safety. Bala flew above him weeping.
Once Dog found Mar’Gul's broken body, he had assumed his human from once more, though the magic he was working with to do this was waning.
Wearing armor as black as pitch, Andara's son carried the great lady's body with the reverence it deserved as he wound his way through the broken rock that lay on the dungeon floor. Black on black, the leathers that Mar’Gul wore added to the somber mood. The diminuitive cretchym, who had fallen in love with her friend back when she was called Pearl, looked like a green star was slowly guiding the simple procession along.
After Rybara accepted Ay'Roan's help to hold Mar’Gul's body so he could mount a griffin, a tremulous roar was heard as another griffin was seen making its way out of the dungeon's depths. Passing through the orange light that the fiery dome protecting Ab’Don cast into the cavern, the winged-lion flew along like he had had too much to drink. When another grief-stricken roar was heard, all knew Bacchanor had arrived.
As the last of the rock and dust that had fallen on him slid off his back, the shape-shifting wizard spred out his huge wings and settled to the ground, stumbling as he did. "Rybara... ride on my back." Bacchanor wept as he spoke as haltingly as he flew. "Let me take her home," he added as he nuzzled his wife's lifeless form.
