by Rex Hazelton
While the remaining wraiths swirled about their heads and tore at their faces to disrupt a proper defense from being mounted- Ay'Roan, Deyvara, and Davyn engaged the black leather-clad assassins in furious fighting. Among the flashing swords that reflected the light given off by Hag magic as they sped through the night, a single luminous blue blade cut through the assassins' weapons like they were made of bronze. Notching the steel with the first blow, a second strike in the vicinity of the first cleaved the blade in two. This left the Shadowmen with inadequate long knives to parry the luminous blue blades killing blow.
With a body enhanced by both Vlad'War and Andara's Magic his mother transfered to him as he was developing in her womb, Ay'Roan was as fast as the Shadowmen. His strength was greater by far. His skin was as tough as tree bark.
Neither Deyvara nor Davyn were similarily gifted. As good as the father and daughter were with the sword, they were no match for the Shadowmen. As it turned out, Ay'Roan ended up protecting his wife and father-in-law instead of going on the offensive against the company of assassins. This made him vulnerable to the Shadowmen's superior numbers.
An unusually violent blow to Ay'Roan's shoulder breached his toughened skin and cut into the muscle below. Another blow to the arm joined to the shoulder that had been wounded, made him lose his grip on the long knife he carried in support of the magical blade he was using to chop down any assassin foolish enough to step into his path.
Deyvara thrust her blade into the abdomen of the Shadowman who had struck her husband's forearm. The desperate move left her neck open to the blade that had cut Ay'Roan's shoulder. The anguished cry that erupted from Deyvara's throat as she caught sight of the approaching razor-sharp steel was silenced as her windpipe and spine were severed by the vicious stroke.
Roaring like a wounded beast at the sight of his wife's decapitation, Ay'Roan swung his sword with such force that the luminous blue blade easily cut through both the shoulders and the upper torso of the Shadowman who had taken Deyvara's life. Putting so much of his body into the killing blow left Ay'Roan open to a two-handed thrust aimed at his side.
Grunting as the blade was driven past his skin and into his ribs, Ay'Roan pulled his brilliant blue blade down across the Shadowman's wrists, severing the hands that held the sword stuck in his side from the arms they once belonged to.
Totally undone by his daughter's death, Davyn dropped to his knees to craddle Deyvara's body in one of his arms as he used the other to grope about for her head. Looking down on his child as he was, Davyn's head soon joined his daughters on the blood-soaked grass.
Grayce screamed when she saw her husband and daughter's bodies laying motionless in the blood-slickened grass. Using her fiery shield to push past the Hag she had been protecting herself against, Grayce knocked the black-robed wizard's fiery shield aside only to feel a short sword's cold steel plunge into her back as she passed her foe. A moment later, a rope of searing hot Hag magic punched up through an armpit that had been exposed when she involuntarily lifted her arm in response to the pain she felt.
As the wraiths tore into her dying body, Grayce watched her son-in-law hacking his way into the Shadowmen’s ranks like they were no more than a large patch of thin-stemmed grass he wanted to cut a path through. But he wasn't the only one doing the hacking: The gauntlet Ay'Roan’s sharp blade made as he waded into the enraged assassins gave as good as it got.
In time, the cuts the young Oakenfel sustained gave off so much blood that Ay'Roan's weakened legs wobbled beneath him. A gash, running down the side of his head, replaced the ear that had been there before the fight began. The blood that soaked his shoulder length hair streamed over his forehead and into his eyes, blinding him to the wraiths that swirled about his head licking his blood as they went. Exhausted from the slaughter he had delivered to the Shadowmen, Ay'Roan stumbled and fell to his knees.
As fate would have it, Ay'Roan died the same way his wife did. The only difference was it took seven blows to separate his head from his body. The first had been partially blocked by the radiant blue blade's last defense. The magic that had toughened Ay'Roan's skin accounted for the next six blows.
"Father!" Ay'Roan's shout was heard a second time as darkness closed over the field where he had been slain a moment before. Once the darkness was absolute, the battle’s pulsing array of light slowly forced its way into Jeaf's eyes. Stubbornly wiggling its way back into the brain that, unbeknownst to Jeaf, had fallen into a Hag-bred stupor, reality replaced delusion.
By all that is holy, Jeaf struggled to stay lucid, the nightmares have to stop!
As it turned out, not only was Ay’Roan, Deyvara, and Davyn not slain, they were still a dozen steps away from reaching the field of battle that Jeaf had lost track of when he succumbed to the Hag’s magic. When Ay’Roan shouted out to his father for a second time, the sword he made on top of Vlad’War’s Anvil filled his voice with magic needed to arouse Jeaf out of the dark dream that enveloped him. It was Andara’s power that did the work this time, since Healing Magic was required to remedy the situation.
Squinting to look at the forces that were arrayed against his family, Jeaf wondered if he had been cast into another nightmare: wraiths, Hag, Shadowmen, and soldiers- with skin as milky white as Grog's had been- filled the treeless expanse of grass-covered ground that stretched out before him.
Grog was the first person to have fallen under the Spell of the White Hand that Jeaf had encountered. And if it wasn't for Bear's huge, metal-studded club, he would have been the last.
With Ay'Roan and his radiant blue blade protecting Jeaf's right flank, and Grayce and J'Aryl protecting his left, the Hag were kept from getting the upper hand. The arrival of the Shadowmen would change that, especially since more of the black-robed wizards were moving along with the wave of assassins. Four flames seen jostling along the Shadowmen's midst made this apparent.
Fortunately, two of the eight accompanying Davyn had used Words of Power to light the candles they carried: one these was a Fane J'Shrym, the other a Neflin. Two more Neflin carried bows like Deyvara did.
Once the reinforcements arrived, Ay'Roan and J'Aryl pushed the Hag back until Jeaf and the dark wizard, who stubbornly maintained control of the Hammer of Power, were surrounded by those deemed to be rebels.
First, turning to look at her father-in-law and at the wax that covered VladWar's Child with black netting, Deyvara next looked to her mother for directions.
Not knowing the power Jeaf contended with, Grayce decided they had no other option but to remove the source of the Hammer Bearer's discomfort. They would deal with any residual magic that clung to Jeaf if they survived the onslaught that was closing in on them.
Seeing her mother nod, Deyvara pulled an arrow out of its quiver, quickly nocked it to the bowstring, and sent it into the Hag's throat. Grabbing his neck with his wounded hand, the black-robed wizard crumpled to the ground. The black candle didn't follow. Instead, it continued to burn, held in place by the wax that covered the hammer's silver head. Separated from the the Hag who had brought it to life, the candle drew on the Hammer Bearer's magic to complete the task its creator had given it while rejecting Jeaf’s attempts to control its functions. But this didn't keep Jeaf from using the wax-covered hammer as a shield while his left hand wielded the long knife J'Aryl had given him.
Freed from the Hag who manipulated the talisman that impeded the Hammer of Power's magic and infected his mind with the nightmares he had that night, Jeaf was able to complete his journey to wakefulness. Assuring the others that he was compitent enough to take his place alongside those who surrounded him, Jeaf chose to stand by Deyvara and defend her and the other archers until they had emptied their quivers.
Ay'Roan, J'Aryl, and Grayce held the center of the line that now looked like a crescent moon rather than the circle it had once been. The Neflin Candle Wielder and his kin protected the right flank. Davyn and the other Fane J'Shrym protected the left flank. Since one of these was a Candle Wielder, magic was
present on both sides of the defensive line.
The six bowmen, accompanying the Hag contingent, loosed their arrows in an effort to diminish the rebels' numbers.
Deyvara and the Neflin archers returned the favor. The quantity of targets the rebel bowmen had to choose from gave them an advantage in administering damage to their adversaries. With Candle Wielders close by, the rebels had better protection. Still, wearing black as they were, the crouching Shadowmen proved to be had to hit. Nevertheless, Deyvara and the others took their fair share of assassins out of the fight. None of the white-skinned Malamor were targeted since arrows were ineffective against them.
Two Shadowmen were wounded by their own archers as they eagerly closed the gap between themselves and the rebel band. A Neflin bowman and one of the Fane J'Srym fighters were wounded as well. Another Fane J'Shrym was speared through the chest by one of the Hag's searing hot ropes of magic. He was the first of the rebels to die.
"Hold the line boys!" Davyn's unruly hair shook like it was a bush struck by a boulder as he shouted. "Help is on its way!"
But before Davyn had finished his exhortation, two of the approaching Hag and four of the blue-cloaked Malamor soldiers broke away from the main body of warriors and went to block the road leading to Shtytl. The plan to apprehend the Hammer of Power was still in play, though the specifics of its implementation were changing with the evolving circumstances J'Aryl and the others’ appearance had brought with it.
Wagering that a band of rebels could defeat a small army in an open field when both sides had magic at their disposal wouldn't be deemed a smart move by those who gambled for a living.
As if they wanted to mock the delusionally defiant band, storm clouds began gathering in the mountain heights, portending a deluge of rain that would mirror the Hag's superior force that threatened to sweep the woefully small number of rebels off the field of battle.
A distant flash of lightning revealed the Shadowmen in infinite detail. The skin tight, black leathers they wore were as glossy as a snake's skin. The black leather skull caps covering their heads were used for camoflauge. A single heavy braid bounced against each of the assassin’s backs as they ran.
Avoidng J'Aryl and Ay'Roan's deadly blades, the assassins attacked the rebel's flanks. The Hag would have to deal with the center of the defensive line. In short order, another Neflin and Fane J'Shrym were wounded, one of them grievously so.
If not for the quick-thinking Candle Wielders, the non-magical inclined rebels would have been completely culled from the doomed herd. Using the little training they had been given in the use of a second candle, the Shadowmen were shocked to face those who could wield both a fiery shield and a spear made of searing flame at the same time.
After six of their own had been slain by the unexpected display of magic that blunted the confidence their early victories had given rise to, the Shadowmen changed to a thrust and parry strategy they implemented as a group. But this would only last until the Hag ordered them to launch an all-out assault despite the casualties such a brazen strategy would acrue given the magic they now knew they were facing. With the Malamor pressing against their backs, the order was sure to come soon.
Having a ten to one advantage, the Hag had been in no hurry. On the other hand, they needed to wrap things up before the candle holding sway over Vlad'War's Child had burned out. An unfettered Hammer of Power would quickly even out the odds, if not entirely tilt the balance of power the rebels' way.
When another flash of lightning revealed how little of the black candle remained, the Hag gave the order to attack even as rumbling thunder rolled over the top of them. Unfortunately for the bravest of the Hag, they soon discovered the fiery shield they held couldn't keep J'Aryl's radiant sword from slicing through its magic. Burned by the luminous blade that cut into his flesh, the Hag dropped the candle they had used to form the shield and stepped behind the other less hasty wizards.
After an initial clash with the rebels that brought down another Neflin, the Shadowmen stepped aside and let the white-skinned Malamor take over. The assassins would mop up after those who had fallen under the Spell of the White Hand had spent their power in depleting the rebels’ strength.
Unless Candle Magic was used to consume them in flame, a feat the Candle Wielders hadn't mastered, there was little they could do stop the Malamor. While the fiery shields could slow them down, the spears made of searing hot magic could only punch holes in their bloodless bodies, an inconvenience the white-skinned warriors could ignore.
On the other hand, Ay'Roan and J'Aryl's luminous swords could destroy the fiends like they were still human. The one glaring difference was it took much longer to dispatch those who were animated by the Spell of the White Hand. Unfortunately, this gave the bloodless fiends a measure of time to retaliate, unless their heads were lopped off their shoulders early on.
Weighted down by their increasing mass, the storm clouds began to slide down the mountainside, blotting out the starlight and moonlight sifting its way through the ubiquitous mists that were quickly incorporated into the burgeoning tempest. The juxtaposition of the utter darkness the storm clouds imposed on the warl and the blindingly bright illumination that accompanied the lightning bolts was a riveting sight to behold. The thunder’s subsequent, resounding roar accentuated the experience.
Flash after flash reflected off faces as white as snow, revealing eyes covered with a disgusting film like the dead had, as unbroken waves of thunder rolled through the night sky. With teeth gnashing in accordance with the rage the Sorcerer felt over Jeaf Oakenfel claiming to be the Hammer Bearer, a title Ab'Don reserved for himself, the Malamor marched forward with relentless, methodical precision. One hundred in all, the rebels had no hope of fending off the bloodless fiends who pressed in on them.
When the white wave broke upon the already compromised shieldwall, Davyn was the first to fall when a sharp blade pierced his shoulder. Violently bludgeoned on the head with a sword's hilt, Deyvara was next to go down. Unable to shape her fiery shield into a spear like the other Candle Wielders had done to keep the Malamor away, Grayce was thrown to the ground when a white-skinned warrior grabbed hold of her shield and shoved her backwards. As far as the offending Malamor was concerned, the burns they sustained weren't worth noting.
Ay'Roan and J'Aryl's radiant swords sliced through the Malamor like they were wheels of soft, white cheese being cut into pieces that would be sold on market day. Hands and arms were severed as the brothers worked their way up to the fiends’ necks.
One after the other, those under the Spell of the White Hand fell before the blades remade on Vlad'War's Anvil. But each white-skinned monster slain was purchased with Oakenfel blood. In the end, the bill for their successes would have been more than the brothers could pay if it wasn’t for the bolt of lightning that was pulled into the nearby forest before it was redirected to strike one of the Malamor who waited their turn to join the battle, a battle that was on the verge of becoming a slaughter once the rebels' strength failed.
Sensing what had happened, as the throbbing peal of thunder cascaded off into the unclouded western sky, two of the Hag turned away from Jeaf and the rebels, who futiley were trying to protect the Hammer Bearer, and went to uncover the source of the magic that had entered the field of battle. Another lightning bolt was drawn into the forest the Shadowmen and Malamor had just exited before it raced out of the trees and into an assassin's body that was summarily torn apart by the immense energy that hit it. Another Malamor was set aflame by a subsequent shaft of lightning before the Hag got clear of the warriors they led. And as they did, a man wielding another radiant blue blade stepped out from the cover of the trees.
A Neflin female and a huge moan cat stepped up to stand beside the man, opposite his sword arm. The female's bright white smile was disconcerting given the Hag she was facing. The presence of even one black-robed wizard was usually enough to wilt the strongest man's confidence. But the Neflin didn't seem bothered by their presence.
A hunchman was the next one to appear. Shouting in the bestial way his kind did, he declared, "Storm Master has arrived!"
As if the beast-man's shout had the power to move the clouds into action, another lightning bolt was thrown at the warl below. After being pulled into the radiant blue sword by magic it willingly submitted to, the man pointed his blade at one of the Hag and sent the crackling bolt of energy into the hapless wizard's body, boiling his organs in the instant it struck him, cooking his brain, and splitting his skin apart.
"Brothers," Travyn's voice, enhanced by the sword he carried, could be heard across the expanse of the battlefield, "behold!"
Lightning flashed again a moment before the second Hag was destroyed with an unimagineably intense burst of energy.
"See what Travyn’s doing," J'Aryl shouted to Ay'Roan. "We can do the same."
"How?" Ay'Roan shouted back as he stood over Deyvara's motionless body.
"Use your thoughts to command the lightning just like the Candle Wielders direct the candles' flames."
Heeding the Oakenfel brothers’ command, the next bolt of lightning splintered into three branches that entered their swords. Instantly, two more Hag and a Malamor were torn apart by the blasts of energy that sent deafening peals of thunder exploding around the combatants' heads, forcing both sides to cower before the sonic onslaught.
Flash. BOOOOOOM! Three more Malamor were felled. Flash. BOOOOOOOM! Two more Hag and a Shadowman burst into flames that crisped their skin like it was pig fat thrown into a furnace. FLash. Flash. BOOOOOOOOOOOM! Three Malamor were incinerated where they stood. Eventually, multiple foes were slain by the lightning bolts that began to seek out more than one victim at a time.
Not wanting to miss out on a chance to fight, Arga'Dyne, Shala'Dyne, Ilya'Gar and his Bro'Noon kin charged at the Shadowmen who had been waiting for the Malamor to break the rebels' resolve. Bacchanor, in the form of a massive-winged lion landed in front of Jeaf and rent to pieces any of the enemy who dared to come close.
