Crimson Blade

by Corey Soreff

  Lok stopped the rotation of his halberd, and grasped it tight with both hands. The tornado would hold for a few more seconds, it began dissipating slowly from the bottom up. He launched off of the ground, jumping high into the air, right into the eye of the storm. Marcovius was trapped in the storm itself, but in the eye one could avoid its effects. He flew upwards with ease, the winds barely touching him.

  He had calculated the distance he had to jump to reach his enemy, and had used the appropriate amount of power in his jump. His ascent stopped exactly where Marcovius was trapped, the man being tossed around him in circles, helpless. With all his might, Lok hurled his halberd through the storm with such power that not even the strong winds could knock it off course.

  It had been timed perfectly, and Marcovius had just arrived at that spot in his rotation when the spear blasted into his chest. The force of the blow knocked Marcovius out of the storm, but it didn't matter. He fell to the ground on his back, gasping for breath as his lungs filled with his own blood.

  Lok landed beside him, staring down at him with a fierce look in his eyes.

  Marcovius wanted to yell, to curse at the man. But he found no voice as he tried to choke out words.

  "I am Lok, of The Crimson Blade. Remember my name as you rot in one of the many hells. I am the man who killed you. And my master will kill your own."

  Lok tore his halberd free of the man's chest, and walked away without another glance.

  Blood began spilling from the now open wound, and the world went dark for General Marcovius.

  Seth'nerak felt the mental link sever. Marcovius neither knew how to sever it, nor had the ability to even if he did. It was of Seth's making. That only meant one thing. He grinded his teeth together in anger as the darkness that seemed to envelop him only grew. "It would seem someone has killed my General," he said flatly. He had almost said my only friend. But he was evil, after all. One must maintain some measure of appearance.

  "Just as someone is about to kill you," Eucibous replied. Does he actually look saddened? Eucibous wondered. Surely the liche was trying to hide it, but he swore as if it seemed the drow actually cared about his General's death.

  The sorrow within Seth'nerak manifested into rage, and what little of his heart had remained vanished. His life had been torture. His subordinates served him out of fear. His God used him for his own gains. He knew no family. He had only Marcovius. And now his closest and only friend was gone. Though he never would have told Marcovius how he felt, they both…just knew. "You're dead…" he whispered softly.

  "What?" Eucibous asked. The drow was muttering to himself.

  "I said…you're dead." Seth'nerak answered, louder this time. He eyes glowed with hate and his fists clenched with fury. He reached down and grabbed Kuldric's lifeless body by the arm, and they both vanished.

  He took advantage of the time he had spent training outside of time and space in more than just the obvious ways. He had made certain he could return here.

  Seth'nerak stepped into the world that was nothing but darkness, if you could even call it that. There was nothing to see, they stood on nothing, they touched nothing, they smelled nothing. They were just…there. He took out the vial in which he had deposited Kuldric's soul, and popped it open. The soul sought it's true vessel and returned to it at once.

  Kuldric's eyes shot open, and he gasped desperately for breath, his body having had none for minutes now. The color returned to his flesh, and he looked around, then at Seth'nerak. The liche was the only thing he saw, anywhere. "Where are we? What have you done?"

  "Nobody knows what I went through. Countless years of the worst tortures imaginable. All for the greed of my God. You will experience something similar, knight." Seth'nerak seemed devoid of all emotion. He simply spoke the truth, it wasn't a threat, nor a means of intimidation. "Although surely a death knight's trials are more tolerable than those of a liche."

  Kuldric reached for his hammers, and realized that he no longer possessed them.

  Seth'nerak reach out a hand slowly towards the knight.

  Kuldric prayed to his God for the impenetrable shield that was his gift.

  "Your God cannot hear you here," stated Seth'nerak.

  "Impossible," replied Kuldric. But the shield never came.

  The Liche King's hand grasped him on his forehead, and excruciating pain filled his entire body as he convulsed in terror.

  "A talented warrior you are indeed, but unfortunately a mere warrior is nothing against magic. Even our dear Eucibous has realized that, for he practices both. Ah, but fear not, young knight. You will become stronger than the crimson one. You will know magic, you will know your hammer, and you will know death." The Liche King kept his hand on Kuldric's forehead, sending multiple spells into every fiber of his being.

  "I'll never serve you!" Kuldric yelled as much as he screamed in pain.

  The drow shrugged. "I didn't expect you to. But I will expect you to. We have all the time in the world, and I wouldn't expect any man to willingly last very long. I lasted as long as I did for only one reason, I had no choice. I am quite confident you will choose to serve me in due time."

  Seth'nerak continued the torture, only the first of many methods he had planned for the knight. "I don't care if it takes a day, a year, or a decade. You will yield, and you will renounce your God."

  As quickly as they had disappeared, they had returned but a blink later. But they were…different.

  Eucibous looked the drow up and down, and felt the urge to block his nose from the stench. The air reeked of body odor and rot, and the Liche King's black robes were worn, torn, and now a faded shade of grey.

  Then he glanced down at Kuldric's body, slumped in the dirt. He had been pale after the peculiar technique of the liche, but now he was more than pale. His skin was almost a blue, and shivers went down his spine as he actually felt chilled just by looking at the man.

  Then the body moved. Kuldric slowly pushed himself to his feet, and looked at Eucibous with lifeless eyes. Cold, lifeless eyes. Then he glimpsed at his old warhammer, which remained on the ground from before he was taken away. He vaguely remembered his prized weapon, though it seemed a lifetime ago. He reached down and grasped it, lifting it off the ground and holding it tightly, hoping to feel more of this familiarity.

  Another zombie? Eucibous wondered. No…this seems…different. "Kuldric..? He called the knight's name, hoping to see the man was still himself.

  Kuldric's gaze went from his hammer to Eucibous. "Ah, Eucibous. It has been too long."

  "Too long?" Eucibous asked. What was he talking about? "You were here but a moment ago."

  The answer didn't seem to surprise Darnillus's champion. "For you, perhaps."

  Then the pieces fell together. The liche, speaking of having been alive sixty years, despite his being only twenty years old. And having said a similar thing, that it was only twenty years for him, not for the liche. The filthy drow had actually discovered a way to train outside of time. That was a skill Eucibous might have been interested in learning…if he wasn't so impatient. Small wonder Seth'nerak had somehow become so powerful. He was at the height of his power, earlier than he should be. Sargath's work, no doubt. Well, that didn't turn out too well for him.

  He felt the essence of cold radiating from Kuldric, as if he was death itself. He was not a zombie. He surely wasn't a liche. Eucibous dove into the depths of his memory, searching all the tomes and books he had read. Only one thing seemed to match what he felt, and how Kuldric appeared. And it fit the knight perfectly as well. A death knight? Eucibous wondered. But a death knight hasn't been seen since…ah, shit. Since the last Liche King.

  "Sorry, but I'll have to kill you now." Kuldric stated without a hint of compassion.

  He sure didn't seem sorry, Eucibous thought. There was no way that honor-bound selfless knight had given himself to the liche easily. How long exactly did he suffer before he became…this?

  Gurnac's voice manifested inside his mind. "Darnillu
s no longer walks with that one."

  "I guessed as much," Eucibous muttered. "Well I suppose I'm simply back where I started. I'll need to fight them both, per the original plan." He felt bad that the powerful knight that had defeated Lok, who had been dreaming of glory, had been reduced to this. But on the bright side, Eucibous now had two strong opponents. The knight's loss was his gain.

  Eucibous gave a wide, ignorant grin. "This will do."

  King Ceric mindlessly hacked through goblins, orcs, and trolls alike. Sword darting in and out, spilling entrails and cutting throats. Shield bashing against skulls and crushing sternums. All who came before him were struck down by the might of the new King. After hearing the news, all he wanted to do was fight. He couldn't believe it, his Lord Father, gone. Sure, his father had become lazy over the years, no longer a man of the blade like his younger days. But he had always been a man who carried himself well, a man you were meant to fear. Even without a blade in hand, he just seemed…powerful. And he was killed without a fight.

  He briefly stopped his onslaught to kneel over a knight lying on the bloody grass, blood spilling out of the wound in his stomach. He didn't have long, Ceric knew. Well, he wouldn’t have, if he hadn't shown up. Ceric put his hand upon the man's breast and prayed to Anania. Holy light washed over the knight, and the wound closed, leaving only dried blood. The man coughed up some blood to clear his lungs, then spit out what remained in his mouth. He looked up at Ceric in wonder as the pain was soothed. "Knight-Commander! How did you…a miracle!"

  Ceric smiled at him. He would ignore the confusion of titles, for now. He didn't feel like a King just yet.

  Eucibous dodged to the right as the heavy warhammer fell down on him. The closer he was to Kuldric, the more cold he felt.

  Kuldric pointed a single finger at Eucibous and spoke a word unknown to Eucibous, the language of death.

  Pain erupted within him, but he fought it away. He felt evil magic tearing at the fabrics of his mind, and he smashed his own willpower against it, sure he would prevail. He always did.

  The death spell was overcome, and Seth'nerak gave a half-hearted sarcastic applause. "A death knight can kill with but a word, but I did not exactly expect it to be successful on you."

  "If it was that easy to kill me, I would have been dead long ago." Eucibous answered. "Clone," he whispered. A mirror image in Eucibous's likeness appeared beside him, identical in all aspects.

  Eucibous attacked. Both he and the mirror image lunged at opposite opponents. One's gigantic sword swiped across at Kuldric, and one's blade stabbed forward at the Liche King's chest.

  Seth'nerak erected a magical barrier in front of himself, and the sword struck it and sparks flew.

  Kuldric also blocked the attack directed at him with his hammer.

  The Liche King's eyes narrowed. "How very interesting. I expected one to be but a mirror image. Yet both are solid. I have not heard of such a spell."

  "You'll find I know a lot of things you don't know, liche." Eucibous replied. "Entangle."

  Roots shot up from the dirt and wrapped around both Seth'nerak and Kuldric's legs, holding them in place. The drow merely chuckled and stepped into the plane of death, reappearing a few feet away.

  Kuldric glanced down at the roots, and already they were dying. The color faded from them as the lifeforce was sucked from within, leaving but gray remains in a pile around Kuldric's feet.

  Eucibous had not expected the spell to do much. He had already cast his speed spell and went on the offensive by the time the roots had grabbed his enemies. He ran quickly around Kuldric, and brought his sword slashing upwards from the ground at his back.

  Kuldric snapped his hammer in two, and one quickly blocked the attack while he turned his body and swung at Eucibous with the other.

  Any normal man would have dodged. Eucibous grabbed the hammer as it closed in on him, stopping the powerful blow completely. But then he realized his mistake. The blood began leaving his hand, color being drained and pain shooting through his veins. He immediately let go of the hammer and jumped back. I can't touch him, Eucibous concluded. If he had held on any longer he might have lost a hand, or an arm. He looked down at his hand at blood began pumping back into it, regaining feeling once again. He glanced over at Seth'nerak, who had yet to join the fight.

  "Oh, I'm just enjoying the show." Seth'nerak said, reading his glance.

  "Your overconfidence will be your downfall," Eucibous answered.

  The drow laughed and crossed his arms. "Funny, I had been thinking the same of you."

  "My confidence makes my spells more powerful, yours makes you watch instead of fight." Eucibous stated.

  "Your confidence is due to get you killed much sooner than I planned if you don't shut your mouth, human." The Liche King said, annoyed.

  "I'd have it no other way, drow. I don't care if you cheated time to become more powerful, I have never lost, and don't plan to start now. You're nothing but a spoiled child playing with his toy. Come at me, Commander of corpses." Eucibous taunted Seth'nerak, hoping to get a more exciting fight. Cocky villains always seemed to jump at the opportunity to defend their pride.

  The Liche King smiled. "Spoiled?" Memories of a lifetime of torture flashed through his mind. "Very well. Then you die now." Before attacking Eucibous, however, he remembered to trigger something else.

  The arena combatants brought glory to the battlefield, easily wiping out scores upon scores of enemies. Everywhere they went, knights felt emboldened and fought harder. The powerful strikes of Dennas the monk blasted even the heaviest of ogres off their feet. Orcs scattered in terror as demons summoned by the warlock Velion ripped apart the flesh of their comrades. The large noses of trolls were crushed by the pommel of Thundrin's bastard sword, and goblins were hacked apart by the blade.

  King Ceric was also a beacon of destruction, riding his steed through the enemy lines cutting down all those in his path.

  Until the battle took a turn for the worse.

  Knights gasped as they witnessed another dimensional tear, this time within the midst of the main battle, and larger than the one before.

  And out of the dimensional rift poured dark elves by the thousands, swarming into the battle and not wasting any time. The knights closest to the rift were cut down in moments as they were overtaken by the drow horde.

  Ceric cursed. I was told Eucibous sent them running back to their island. This was not a promising development.

  Dennas had just done away with a few of these new drow when he noticed their leader. The drow were better swordsman than the knights, to be sure. But there wasn't such a huge gap in skill between the average drow soldier and the average knight. But the gap was evident in this drow. He rode atop a wingless dragon, a common mount for drow nobility, and scimitars flashed left and right as he sliced apart knights on either side of him. He wore a light set of leather armor, sure not to slow him down. Any knights fortunate enough to avoid being trampled by the dragon had their relief cut short by the drow's blades.

  Dennas studied the impressive dark elf. He seemed to be unusually tall for a drow, and his features seemed familiar. Memories of the undead drow they had fought flashed through his mind. Kol'thakal. The resemblance was uncanny, but they had surely killed that one. And this drow seemed younger. His heir, perhaps. It made sense, given the way the drow army was obeying his commands. Surely if Kol'thakal had a son, he would have inherited the throne. Dennas could only hope his skills didn't match those of his father.

  Jin'tul ripped his scimitar from a knight's throat, blood spraying from the wound. He laughed as his dragon tore another knight from his horse, and mauled his body to pieces. He stabbed down at a knight on foot trying to injure his dragon, and his blade seeped into the man's neck. Then time seemed to freeze.

  Jin'tul.

  He tried to look around, wondering where the voice came from, when he realized he could not move. The voice seemed to be inside his head anyway.

  You know me as Herreleck. T
his is quite the unexpected surprise, mmm. Sargath didn't tell me of this plan.

  "Sargath didn't know," Jin'tul responded. "I serve the Liche King."

  Mmm, I have been most intrigued by Seth'nerak's rebellion. I never liked Sargath much anyhow. But alas, I come to you for a reason. Surely you know your father was my champion. Now that he has been defeated, I find myself needing a new one. And I have always been fond of your species. Care to embrace the gift your father once wielded?

  Jin'tul had never been able to defeat his father in a duel, not once. It had always bothered him. He felt he was just as skilled as his old man, but he never won. He had always blamed it on the God-given speed. Jin'tul's mouth curled into a grin. "Gladly," he answered.

  He felt dark, holy energy wash through him as he was recognized by the deity, and time seemed to resume. He jumped off of his dragon and put his newfound agility to the test, tearing through the ranks of the knights. Everyone seemed so…slow.

  Warnings filled Eucibous's head as the Gods continually updated him on the situation of the battle. Eucibous cursed. When he killed Kol'thakal, he let the drow army live, on the promise they would go home and stay there. It would appear they had no kept their promise. He would deal with them later. The Gods insisted he finish this fight quickly, apparently the knights were in dire trouble. But that wasn't really his problem. Besides, the Gods had other champions over there to deal with the drow army.

  A dark hand reached for him from behind, aiming for his heart. But he quickly jumped away and laughed. He glanced over at the liche, half his arm missing once again, presumably taking shortcuts through dimensions. "The same trick won't work on me twice, drow." Then he heaved his heavy blade into the air and blocked a hammer as it fell down on him, smashing it away and then ducking below the second hammer as it spun around at his midsection. The hammer soared over his head and Eucibous jumped up, smashing Kuldric in the chin with his knee. Kuldric's head snapped back, but he didn't seem fazed. He followed the knee with a spinning elbow to the Death Knight's throat, smashing in his laryngeal prominence.