While the creature was distracted, Frey jumped up to it and landed a glancing blow on its shoulder, where the baby's head grew, which was cleanly severed. The head rolled to a stop near Elysia's feet, where he stood shrieking. Catgirl managed to set the lantern on the floor, draw her sword and bring it down on her head. It was divided into two halves that began to join again. He continued to lay sword blows at her until the weapon blunted, blunted, then snapped from her as it lurched against the ground; Still, he couldn't kill the thing.
"Stand back," she heard Zauber tell her, and jumped to the side.
Suddenly the air burned, filled with the smell of sulfur and burning metal, and the tiny head fell silent and did not recover.
As if sensing a new threat, the troll jumped out, leaving Frey behind but not before taking a deep cut from Frey's sword, and caught the mage with the giant pincer. Elysia saw the look of terror on Zauber's face as he was lifted into the air. The mage struggled to cast a spell, and suddenly a ball of fire appeared, dispelling the shadows for a moment. The monster screamed and reflexively closed its pincer, cutting the mage in two.
Zauber fell to the ground with his robes on fire, and black despair washed over Elysia. The mage could have wounded the creature, burned it with arcane fire. At that time he was dead; Frey could only open futile slashes at him because his healing powers, bolstered by the manastone, made him practically invulnerable. They were doomed.
The cat girl slumped her shoulders. There was nothing he could do. The others had died in vain, and the mission had failed. The ghosts of the dwarven rulers would continue to haunt like banshees. It had all been useless.
He looked at the armored figure of Frey. Very soon, Frey would get tired and he would be unable to dodge the creature's blows. He knew it, but he didn't give up the fight, and a renewed determination washed over Elysia. Nor would she give up; at that moment, she averted her gaze towards the mage's corpse.
The fire had grown more intense, much more so than if it were only burning a man's clothes. And then she understood why: Zauber had flasks of lantern oil in his coat. Hurriedly, Elysia slid her backpack off her back and reached for a vial of oil.
"Keep him busy!" she yelled at Frey as he uncovered the ceramic jar.
Frey, understanding Elysia's plan, nodded and said. "I'll take care of tanking!"
Elysia waved the vial at the monster to spray it with lustrous oil, but the monster ignored her as he tried to immobilize Frey. The dark hero had redoubled his efforts and was slashing like a madman. Meanwhile, Elysia poured a second vial on top of her, and then a third, always keeping where the monster couldn't see her.
"I know what you're going to do, cat girl, but do it quickly!" Frey complained.
Elysia ran away and picked up the lantern from her. "May the gods guide my hand." she begged her. She hurled the lantern at the creature, whose back she collided with. After shattering, she sprayed burning oil, which she ignited the fuel she had sprayed it with earlier.
The troll uttered a shrill scream and stumbled back. From that moment on, when Frey's sword wounded him, the cuts would not heal. Frey backed the troll into the pile of gold, where it stumbled and fell, and then Frey raised his sword above his head.
"Go dead!" the dark Hero bellowed.
The greatsword Lævateinn swooped down and lopped off the foul head of the creature, which never rose again.
♦ ♦ ♦
Very carefully, Frey picked up the manastone amulet with the broken blade of Elysia's sword, and carried it out of the way at arm's length, to throw it into the abyss.
The cat girl sat, void of all emotion, on top of a sarcophagus. "Once again, things end like this." She thought she, sitting amid the ruins and corpses after a terrible fight.
She heard the footsteps of Frey approaching at a run, and the dark hero entered panting.
"The goblins are coming, catgirl," she announced.
"Many?" Elysia asked.
Frey shook his head tiredly.
“Too many. At least I'm rid of that corrupted thing now. Although I can die happy, here, among the graves of brave warriors. I prefer to leave, dying for shitty Goblins would be dishonoring my ancestors."
Catgirl stood up and went to pick up the dragon-hilted sword.
“I would have liked to give this back to Aldred's people,” she said. “It would have given meaning to so many deaths.”
Frey shrugged and glanced at the door. The arcade was filled to the brim with green-skinned marauders advancing behind the Laughing Moon banner. Catgirl easily unsheathed her dragon slayer, which emitted an exciting musical note. The runes etched along the blade gleamed with brilliant light, and for a moment the goblins hesitated.
Frey shifted his gaze to his partner and smiled.
“This may be a heroic kill, cat girl. My only regret is that he will not be able to fulfill my mission, perhaps my lord Zark will never hear of my achievements."
Elysia turned her eyes to the horde bearing down on her, and she positioned herself so that her back was against a sarcophagus.
"You don't know how sorry I am," she replied with a frown.
She brandished the weapon a few times in rehearsal. She handled it well, it was light and balanced, as if it had been made especially for her hand. She was surprised to discover that she was no longer afraid, that she was beyond all fear.
The standard bearer paused and turned to harangue his soldiers, none of whom seemed too eager to face Frey's greatsword or Elysia's runed magic sword.
"Come at once!" Frey bellowed. "My sword is thirsty."
The goblins roared, and the leader turned and motioned for them to advance. They rushed at them, as irresistible as the tides. That's it, the catgirl thought as she braced herself for the attack and she prepared to swing the sword to take as many enemies as she could back with her to the lands of the dead.
"Goodbye, Frei. I…” she said, but she broke off.
The goblins had stopped and were staring at them in panic. "What's wrong?" Elysia wondered. A cold white light spilled over her shoulders; she turned to look and hesitated. The chamber was filled with ranks of regal dwarf spirits, advancing looking fierce and terrible.
The goblin standard bearer tried to drive the soldiers back from him, but the ghostly dwarf lords reached out and touched his heart. His color drained from his face, and he fell as he clutched at his chest and the spirits rushed toward the goblins. The spectral axes were swung, and the white-skinned warriors fell without a single mark on their bodies. A high-pitched, monstrous sound filled the air, like a flute-like imitation of dwarven war cries. The remaining goblins turned and fled, the ghostly warriors trailing after them.
♦ ♦ ♦
Elysia and Frey stood in the empty chamber, surrounded by huge sarcophagi. In the space before them, slowly, silhouettes began to take shape. Halos of white light floated back through the entrance and took on the appearance of dwarfs. The spirits looked different.
There was the ghost that had spoken with Frey earlier. Somehow she had changed, as if a terrible weight had been lifted from her ethereal heart. He looked at the dark hero.
“The ancient enemies have disappeared. We couldn't leave them to plunder our tombs now that you've cleansed them. We are in your debt.”
"You have snatched a glorious death from me," Frey replied, almost sullenly.
"It was not your destiny to fall here on this day."
Frey then looked at the ancient queen with an air of questioning.
“There is nothing more I can tell you. Frey Iron Hand, son of Njördr, brother of Freyja, last of the Vanir. Champion of the lords of the five peaks. On behalf of my people, thank you. Our best wishes accompany you. Goodbye great hero.”
The ghosts seemed to coalesce into a single cold flame, which shone like a star in the darkness. The light changed from white to warm gold, then brighter than the sun. Elysia averted her eyes from her, though she continued to be dazzled, and when she regained her ability to see, she looked at the graves. The place was empty except for his presence and that of Frey, who was frowning thoughtfully. For an instant, a strange expression flickered in her eyes; then the gyro turned to look at the treasure.
Elysia could almost read his mind. She was thinking of taking those riches, of desecrating the tombs himself. Catgirl held her breath, and after a long minute, Frey shrugged and turned around.
“What about the others? Shouldn't we provide them with a resting place?" Elysia asked.
"Leave them," Frey replied over his shoulder as he strode away. “They lie among the mighty. Their bodies are safe."
They passed through the archway, and the dark hero paused to touch the runes, according to ancient custom. The tomb was sealed, and then they walked through the eternal darkness toward the light of day.
Since we were short of money, we decided to return to the Kingdom of Lothal and look for some paid work. The return from the fortress-city of the Five Peaks had not been easy. The weather was atrocious, the landscape was inhospitable, and my companion was in an even more irrational mood than usual. Whereas we had traveled into the gloomy mountains in comfort and safety relative to being part of a large caravan protected by armed men, on the way back we had no help or means of transportation other than our own legs. . The people of the few villages we entered were wary of two armed strangers, and the provisions they sold us were expensive and of dubious quality.Perhaps it was unreasonable of me to expect a reprieve in the seemingly endless chain of adventures when we returned to the realm, since the dark hero and I seemed predestined to permanently encounter envoys of the Dark Powers. Still, I would hardly have believed the extent of his sinister influence had I not witnessed it with
The ferocious attack caught them by surprise, and the fat leader barely managed to flinch as the sword whistled past his head. The creature's agility surprised Elysia. With a terrible crack, Frey's weapon slammed into the skinny lieutenant's chest, then lopped off the head of a second attacker. The return blow tore through the leader's leather shield and severed the tentacle holding it.Giving them no time to recover, Frey dashed between them like a deadly whirlwind. The leader ran out of range of the deadly weapon as he babbled orders at his followers. The mutants began to surround Frey, and they were only kept at a distance by the huge eight that the great sword described in the air.Elysia then threw herself into the fray. The magical sword, Dragon Slayer, that she had taken from Paladin Aldred when he died seemed as light in her hands as a willow wand, and almost sang as he cleaved a mutant's head from behind her. The runes gleamed as they sliced through the top
The land was greener since they had come out of the mountains. The warm golden sun bathed the vast pastures of the plains in soft late-afternoon light. Here and there clumps of purple heather bloomed, and among the grass were little red flowers. Before them, perhaps a league away, a huge gray castle loomed above the plains, perched on the craggy crest of a hill. Beneath herself, Elysia could see the walls of a city and the smoke rising lazily from numerous chimneys.She felt more relaxed and she reckoned they would reach the city before night fell. Saliva filled her mouth at the thought of cooked beef and fresh bread. She was really sick of the dwarves' field rations they had picked up at the fortress-city of the five peaks: hard biscuits and strips of dried meat. Tonight, for the first time in weeks, she could rest easy under a safe roof and enjoy the company of civilized people; she would even have a chance to drink a little beer before retiring to bed. The tension began to
At first he thought she was going to refuse, for she was young, she had only recently arrived from the country, and she still had quaint ideas about virtue. But she was a slave to the Empire; she belonged to the lowest peasant class owned by the feudal lords, and she had fled to the city to escape serfdom. Losing her job at the tavern meant having to choose between starving to death in the city, trying her luck in the nearest city, or returning to the empire where her master's wrath awaited her. If she lost her job there, Wolf could see to it that she didn't get another one. When the reality of that situation penetrated the girl's mind, she lowered her head to nod once; the movement was so minimal that it was hardly noticeable.“In that case, get out of my sight until then,” Wolf said.The girl fled as tears streamed down her face, pursued by coarse jeers.Wolf allowed himself a contented sigh, then drained another glass of wine. The sweet, clove-sce
Elysia was lying on a pile of rubbish and her whole body ached. She had a loose tooth, and something wet ran down the back of her neck; she hoped it wasn't her own blood. A plump black rat stood on a mound of moldy food and looked at her. The moonlight made her red eyes glow like malevolent stars.She tried to move a hand, and when she succeeded she put it on the ground to brace herself on the earth and prepare for the monumental task of getting up. Something soft flattened under her palm. She shook her head, and little silver lights darted past her field of vision. The effort of her movement was too much for her, so he lay on his back, in the middle of the garbage pile, which seemed to him like a soft and warm bed.She opened her eyes again and thought that she must have blacked out on her, though she had no idea how much time had passed. The moon was higher than before. Her eerie light lit up the street unevenly. The mist had begun to lift, and in the distance the ni
Wolf Ladmer lay drunk on the bed. From The Sleeping Dragon, located on the ground floor, came the muffled sounds of revelry. Not even the thick rugs that covered the floor or the thick leaded glass in the windows could completely insulate it.He downed a glass of gin and stretched, enjoying the caress of the satin sheets on his skin. With a wistful sigh he closed an old volume of knowledge, his bedside book, the camasutra, the first he had acquired in that strange bookstore in Bergheim. To tell the truth, the calligraphy was already quite simplistic and the positions of the couples that illustrated it were tedious and unexperienced. Only one of them might have been vaguely interesting, but where could one get a constricting giant python in Freiburg at this time of year?He got out of bed and wrapped the silk robe around himself to hide the stigma he had on his chest. He smiled; the garment had been a gift from the fascinating traveler Dieng Ching, guest of Duke Emmanue
Elysia woke up surrounded by the smell of boiled cabbage and the stench of dirty bodies. The coldness of the stone slabs on the floor had seeped into her bones, and she felt old. Sitting up she found that the pains from the beating she had received the night before had returned. She fought back tears of suffering and groped for the painkillers the alchemist had given her.Light filtered through the vaulted ceiling, revealing the bodies that littered the temple hall. Poor wretches from all over the city had flocked there for shelter for the cold night, and they had all been locked up together. The great double doors were barred, though the people there had nothing to steal, and Elysia marveled at the precautions. The doors on the other side of the room, where the priestesses were setting up a wicker table, had also been barred. Last night she had heard the heavy bolts slide, after the front door had been closed. Then she wondered if there really could be people capable of robb
Greta was waiting for them on a corner, near the city gate. She was standing next to a striped canvas stall that a pastry chef was setting up to greet the day's customers. Her eyes were puffy as if she had been crying, and Elysia noticed a bruise showing on her neck, as if someone had grabbed her very tightly. She too had scratch marks, her hair was mussed, and her dress was ripped, as if someone had tried to rip it off in a hurry."What's going on?" asked the catgirl, who was still angry with the innkeeper and spoke the sentence in a gruff tone. She felt powerful in Frey's legendary black armor.Greta looked at her as if she was about to cry, but her expression turned determined and hard."Nothing" she replied.The streets were beginning to fill with free farmers, who came to sell eggs and other agricultural products; Those early risers stared at the imposing catgirl and the stricken-looking tavern girl. She rumbled past a nightly dung collector's cart,