by C. M. Carney
Hisses of pain pulsed through the cavern as the blast of life energy not only blinded the subterranean creatures, but pummeled them with damage. Simultaneously Gryph and all the members of his team were both healed and rejuvenated. It was not enough to remove any of their debuffs, but it gave them a surge of life and power.
As the light faded, Gryph saw his entire team leap back into action. Wick tossed volley after volley of bolts into the blinded wyrmynn. Ovrym spun and swirled. Most important of all Tifala finished her casting.
A wave of flowing golden light flowed from Tifala’s body. As the blessing crested over Gryph, he instantly felt better and was even more thrilled to see his debuffs disappear. However they had done their work well and his health bar sat at barely 50%. He took a moment to down a health potion and his health popped back up to near 80%. Not perfect, but good enough for now.
The flowing wave of life magic poured over the wyrmynn, and they howled. Their skin blistered and charred as if ten hours of sun exposure pummeled them all at once. Several of the lead wyrmynn, those who’d faced the brunt of the attacks died instantly. The wave moved on and it passed over the wyrmynn commander who stood unmoving as his skin crisped. His eyes bored into Gryph’s as a snarl crossed his face, pulling the jagged white scar that bisected his face taught.
Gryph cast Flying Stalactite at the beast's face. His aim was true, but at the last second the beast raised his shield and the shard of rock stopped short. The beast grinned and Gryph realized the staring match had been a distraction. Scarface had distracted Gryph enough to allow the chthonic mage to complete his chanting.
A rift to another place opened and Gryph’s eyes went wide in fear. It was the same place that Wick had summoned the demon in their last battle against the wyrmynn and Gryph knew that this time there was no chance that he would be marked as a friendly. Too late to stop this casting, Gryph’s rope entwined the mage. At least he’ll be out of commission for a while.
A massive wolf the color of cooling magma leaped from the portal and sprinted directly towards Ovrym. The Adjudicator was bleeding from a half dozen small wounds and was unaware of the approaching hell hound.
Hell Hound - Level 19
Hell hounds are a demon’s best friend. These massive canines are the literal guard dogs of hell. Ferocious carnivores who love feasting on mortal flesh. Strengths: Unknown. Immunities: Unknown. Weakness: Unknown.
The beast ran through Tifala’s field of light, grimacing as its fur singed. Gryph sprinted towards Ovyrm and leaped over the quick warrior, pumping Mana into his spear and activating Banish. The spear plunged into the beast’s side and both it and Gryph toppled heavily to the ground.
The life energy erupting from his spear caused the hell hound to howl in pain and it shimmered. Gryph’s held his breath in hope. “Please, work, please work, please work,” he begged. The beast shook its head as it phased in and out of this realm and finally with a deep growl of primal hatred it became solid once again.
“Shit,” Gryph said yanking the spear from the beast’s side. Banish may have failed, but the spear strike had done massive damage and better yet, prevented the monstrosities rabid jaws from crushing down on Ovrym’s neck.
“Thanks,” Ovyrm said as he went back to back with Gryph. They were surrounded and cut off from their friends. Wick was tossed aside by a club swing from a skirmisher and lay pinned away from the others. Tifala was, if possible, even worse off. While she was unhurt, she was the furthest away from the rest of them and face to face with both the death priest and Scarface. In a small miracle, Gryph’s rope still entangled the mage.
The hell hound got back to its feet and charged Ovrym and Gryph again. Gryph snapped his right hand up and activated his ring. A bubble of solid air exploded just in time to push the bear sized dog back, but Gryph could tell that it had caused significant damage to the shield’s integrity. It could take one, maybe two more hits like that.
Surprisingly, Ovyrm sat down in the middle of the sphere of calm and closed his eyes. Gryph was about to ask the nimble warrior what the hell he was up to when he heard a low chanting coming from the xydai.
“Make it a good one buddy,” Gryph muttered as he sent a volley of throwing knives through the barrier accentuated by the power of his bracers. They bit into demon dog flesh and with a twist and a tear Gryph summoned them back to him. The beast howled, but its health bar barely moved. It lunged at the barrier again stealing more of the shield’s dwindling power.
Ovrym finished his casting. He hadn’t moved and his eyes were still closed, but Gryph knew his spell had been successful, because one of the larger wyrmynn skirmishers turned towards one its fellows and swung its two handed sword in a wide arc, separating the shocked wyrmynn’s head before it could wonder what the hell just happened.
Watching the lizard slay his fellows brought a smile to Gryph’s face and then something better. His eyes snapped over to the chthonic mage to see that while he struggled, he was still wrapped tightly by Gryph’s spider silk rope. Gryph decided that if he ever met one of the mysterious spiders, he’d have to give it thanks. The Realms are a very weird place, he thought and he reached out to the rope and activated its Compel ability.
Gryph felt his thoughts meld with those of the wyrmynn mage and made a vow to never, ever do so again. The beast’s mind was a fetid swamp of hatred and pain. This creature enjoyed torture and murder the way perpetually single women loved walks on the beach.
“Send it back,” Gryph commanded through the mind meld. The mage resisted, but Gryph could tell it was a strain. “Send it back,” Gryph commanded again. The mage snapped his eyes onto Gryph’s and grinned as it used its powerful willpower to resist him.
The hell hound pummeled against the air shield again and it shimmered with its last bit of strength. Ovyrm turned his possessed wyrmynn against the fiery wolf and was rewarded with a significant hit. The hound collapse and raged in pain. It turned and launched itself with vicious speed at the traitor lizard. It jaws sunk into the wyrmynn’s neck and it belched a torrent of flame outward. The possessed wyrmynn screamed for a few seconds before the hellish flames charred its face and it collapsed.
Gryph’s battle to compel the mage was not going well, and he was running out of time. He changed tactics. Perhaps he could not force the mage to banish the creature but there were other ways to tame the beast.
“What is its true name?” Gryph commanded through the link.
The wyrmynn’s eyes went wide as it tried to battle the command, but this ability of the empyrean silk rope was far harder to resist than direct mind control. A guttural and harsh sentence of horrid syllables flowed into Gryph’s mind.
He turned to the hell hound and began the litany of words that comprised the beast’s true name. As each word erupted from Gryph’s tortured throat like vomit, the beast grew more furious. It bashed its head and forelimbs against the air shield, finally reducing its power to zero.
The beast prepared to leap, just as Gryph finished saying it true name. It spasmed, trying to resist, but Gryph’s will was a vice grip that the foul creature could not escape. A moment later the battle was over and the hell hound lowered its head.
“Kill,” Gryph ordered, sending a mental image of the death priest and the chthonic mage into the hell hound’s brain. The two ton creature spun with a grace an animal so large should not have possessed and charged its one time master.
Gryph did not waste time watching his new pet’s slaughter. He and Ovrym were still surrounded by angry wyrmynn. Ovrym spun up and about, his blade slicing through limbs and necks with ease and grace.
A wyrmynn landed a hit to Gryph’s shoulder, but he activated Parry and blocked the attack. Gryph dipped, spun and plunged the spear up and into the wyrmynn’s neck, scoring a Critical Hit and killing the beast instantly.
Gryph spun again to discover he had no enemies to face. Then he saw why. While the hellhound had distracted them, Scarface and his minions had surrounded Tifala. She had taken out several a
s evidenced by the wyrmynn corpses at her feet, but a massive blow from the flat of Scarface’s blade knocked her unconscious.
“No,” came a scream and Gryph spun to see Wick, pinned down by several more of the saurians, frantically trying to reach his woman. The diminutive gnome was so focused on the plight of his love that he failed to see the wyrmynn strike coming at him. The blade took Wick in the side and he fell out of sight.
Gryph shot his arm forward and cast Flying Stalactite as the wyrmynn drew his sword over Wick’s head for a killing blow. The jagged rock spear caught the beast in the throat and the life left his eyes instantly.
“Ovyrm, to Wick,” Gryph commanded as he spun and ran towards Tifala and her captors. He sent a quick glance towards the hell hound to see it tear off its one time master’s left arm. The mage fell, screaming, and the hell hound turned its attention to the death priest.
But the other magic user had not stood idle and a lance of black energy tore from the priest’s outstretched hands and impaled the fiery canine as it lunged. Gryph’s hellacious minion’s own weight carried it further down onto the spear of death. In a flash of red black light the hell hound disappeared.
Gryph turned back to Tifala’s captors. They had her bound and one skirmisher tossed her up on its shoulder. Scarface pointed directly at Gryph and said attack in its putrid tongue. Then he turned around and disappeared into the tunnel with Tifala.
The remaining four wyrmynn rushed at Gryph. He sidestepped the first attack and activated his Counter Attack perk, dipping low and dragging the blade of his spear along the creature’s hamstring. It toppled to the floor.
Gryph turned and parried another blow. The wyrmynn lifted its blade to try again, but Gryph punched the shaft of the spear upwards and into the beast’s face. He heard a crack of bone and blood exploded from its nose.
He ducked under another attack, his left hand holding his spear straight up. As the wyrmynn flew past, Gryph pushed some Mana into his bracers and released the spear. It tore upwards like a rocket, lifting the lizard off its feet as it punctured its heart. Critical Hit.
The beast's momentum tore the spear from Gryph’s grip and he had to throw himself aside to avoid the final wyrmynn’s attack. Gryph tucked and rolled and pulled his ice dagger as he rolled up. He was breathing heavily. The constant movement and use of his perks had seriously drained his Stamina, and it was barely holding at 10%. He backed away to gain breathing room, but the wyrmynn was smarter than it looked and with a grin it charged.
Gryph attempted to block the burly lizard’s strike, but neither his Stamina nor his dagger was up to the task. He felt the rusted metal dig into his shoulder blade and his health sunk by nearly 40% as the dagger fell from his hand. A gush of blood erupted from his mouth and he collapsed.
The wyrmynn took a second to gloat, growling the wyrmynn equivalent of ‘soft weakling’ down at Gryph. In pain, without a weapon and about to be killed, Gryph let instinct take over. He pushed with all his remaining strength and launched his head upwards. It impacted the wyrmynn in the crotch and Gryph learned a truth he never thought he’d seek. Yes, wyrmynn do have balls. Gryph felt the soft, egg like spheres turn to pulp against his skull and as the wyrmynn collapsed in agony Gryph hoped that would be the last time he experienced that sensation.
Gryph got to his feet, collected his spear, and thrust the tip deep into the beast’s chest. Gryph thought he saw a look of relief in the saurian’s eyes as its life ended.
Gryph spun in search of enemies, but there were no wyrmynn standing. Or so he thought, until a ragged strand of black energy whipped around him, pinning arms to body. Gryph screamed as the death tendril drained his life. Again he fell to his knees as the agony ripped into him.
Then it stopped. Gryph looked up to see Wick’s hand outstretched. He followed the gnome’s arm to see the death priest collapse, a hole charred into its chest. He looked back at the gnome and nodded thanks. Wick collapsed, supported by Ovyrm’s lean, powerful arms.
Wick wept as the solemn Adjudicator held him.
35
W ick was inconsolable. He wanted to rush after the wyrmynn to save his love, but Ovrym convinced him that none of them were in any shape to pursue them.
“But she’ll die.”
“We’ll all die if we go now. We need to heal, to recover. And she’ll be fine for a while at least,” Gryph said.
“How can you know that?” Wick demanded, his face red from rage and fear.
“If they wanted her dead, they would have killed her here. So that suggests they want her for something else. Whatever that something else is, it buys us some time. Time we desperately need.”
“I agree,” Ovrym said.
Desperate fear waged a battle with logic on Wick’s face. After a few moments he found calm. “You’re right.” He pulled a chain from his neck on which hung a ring. A ring very like the one Gryph had stashed in his inventory. Wick choked back tears. “She’s alive. Scared, but alive.”
Ovrym squeezed his shoulder and Gryph kneeled down next to Wick with a grimace of pain. “We will save her.” Gryph said. Wick locked eyes with him and nodded.
“Help me up?” Wick said and Ovyrm hefted the gnome to his feet. With a grimace Gryph also got to his feet. “What a sad trio we make,” Wick jested and a small smile crept across his face. “Let’s go back to the hideout. Tifala should have something there we can use.” The mere mention of her name brought worry back to his face and Gryph added his hand to the gnome’s other shoulder.
“We will save her.” Ovrym said. Wick nodded.
The trio entered the hideout to find Xeg digging through a chest.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Wick demanded.
The imp tore its face up and glared. “Shiny. Want. For Xeg.”
Ovyrm walked up and tried to grab the irritating imp, but he bounced aside and whipped Ovrym across the face with his tail. Xeg landed atop a high shelf and stuck his tongue out at them. He looked at the three warriors with worry in his eyes.
“Where pretty lady? Pretty lady promise Xeg shiny.”
Wick grumbled under his breath in gnomish, and while Gryph had not heard enough of the diminutive man’s native language from his Master of Tongues ability to translate the language, he was pretty sure the tirade was laced with profanity.
Wick walked to a leather case and opened it, revealing row after row of potions. He searched through and found three red health potions and tossed one each to Ovyrm and Gryph.
“Potions of Major Health. Should get us all back up to snuff,” Wick said, upending his.
Gryph and Ovyrm did the same and A rush of healing heat surged through Gryph’s body. If a minor health potion felt like a cup of coffee, this thing was like a triple espresso.
“Damn,” Gryph said in appreciation.
“Told you my girl is good.”
Wick walked over to the chest Xeg had been rummaging through and dug out a small mirror. He tossed it up to Xeg, and the imp squealed in delight and looked at himself from all angles. He grinned like some kind of horrid fashion model doppelgänger and spun to see himself in different positions. When he checked out his own ass, Gryph checked out of the scene and looked back at Wick.
“Tif always insisted we be nice to him. Promised him a mirror just like hers if he helped us out.”
“Then where was he during the fight?” Ovrym asked.
“He no say fight. He say look. Xeg look, find things, tell short ugly man about things,” Xeg protested.
Wick sighed and rubbed his forehead with his hand. “Technically he is right. Damn imps are always so literal.”
“Is he always here?” Ovrym asked.
“Thankfully, no,” Wick said. “I can summon him for up to 24 hours before he returns to the chthonic realm. Then I need to wait another 24 hours before summoning him again. I’d estimate I have him for another half hour at most.”
“Can he track the wyrmynn?” Gryph asked.
“Given the time,
yes. Since he can port pretty much anywhere he has seen. But it takes time, and that is something we don’t have.”
“Lies. Always lies about Xeg. Lying, liar, short, ugly man’s pants on fire.” Xeg snapped his fingers and Wick’s pants smoked. Wick slapped the small flames away with practiced ease.
“I thought you said he wasn’t allowed to attack you,” Gryph said.
“No attack. Make joke. Ha, ha, ha, Xeg funny. Hilarious. The most funny,” Xeg said and then chortled lightly to himself as he posed in the mirror more. “Plus, Xeg find pretty lady. You say Xeg can no find. You lie. Pffftt.”
All three of the men stared at Xeg.
“What do you mean?” Gryph asked.
They waited for Xeg to respond, but he just stared with a sleepy expression at them.
“Oh, mean Xeg. Why you call Xeg You? You no know Xeg’s name tall, pokey eared goober?” Xeg asked quizzically.
“Goober,” Gryph scowled, which earned a small grin from both Ovrym and Wick. He now understood Wick’s frustration and even felt sympathy for the gnome. His affinity had sent him down the path where frequent interactions with the obnoxious imp were common. Gryph imagined Lex would love the little devil.
“You said you can find Tifala?” Wick said. But Xeg was once more admiring his reflection. “Xeg. Hello Xeg.”
“Yes, find pretty lady can Xeg, but Xeg need one something.”
“What is that?” Wick said.
“Promise can have and Xeg tell.”
Gryph was no expert on demons, but he suspected that agreeing to any deal with one before knowing the terms was a bad idea. He looked from wick to Ovyrm and shrugged. “Not sure we have much choice.” Both men nodded.
“Fine Xeg, you can have one something,” Wick said.
“Whoooop,” the imp said and jumped and danced and spun. He then leaped from his perch atop the shelf, bounced off Gryph’s head and then onto Wick’s back.
