A Dirge of Wolf Cries
(Art not my own, full credit to Ai Creator)
"Oh well this is perfect," Jeremiah groused, "This is utterly perfect."
The massive, werewolf warped things turned their heads slowly, gazing first at the King's Special and their allies and then at the group of guards clustered around Mr Shouty Dwerg Lord at the doors of Principle Mound, obviously weighing up which herd of prey were the most valuable, or easiest to gulp down.
"Yes, perfect timing that you found that you had such a knack for the prayers of healing," Ulrich grinned, rolling his shoulder to test how tight the new scar tissue across his chest was, lifting his elven made, fae gifted sword with renewed confidence. The point dipped as, for a second, the shadow of a great dragon made of the smoke of burning civilizations and scolding light flashed across his vision but then it was gone and Ulrich clamped down on the urge to wet himself. He was not going to be unmanned by a shadowy ghost. He'd deal with it until he could find a real priest who could actually lance out whatever poison Jeremiah was trying to affect his mind with.
"I concur," Valodrael rumbled, the sound of shattering dams in his surging voice as he stepped in front of Estella, "This is going to be such fun."
"You are both mad!" Jeremiah barked, "Do you think we can challenge these things with the meat shield out of action?"
"You were still on your feet the last time I looked," Ulrich called as Peter the Centipede reared like a pure bred charger.
"Doh!" Jeremiah snapped as Valodrael chuckled, "I meant this was not a great time for us to discover that we have a narcoleptic orc on the team!"
"Guess you are going to have to actually do some work then," Kaelin cocked an eyebrow as she swung Haggis round and tucked him under her arm, "And he's actually an orc crossbreed. Check your knowledge, scholar man."
"Parp, parp, parp, parp," Haggis unmistakably chuckled for a moment before Kaelin tucked the blow stick into her mouth and blew for all she was worth.
That at least shut up that ridiculous wind bag but Jeremiah's mouth was still set in a thin line under his beard. He rounded on Nanny Tatter's, anger burning in his eyes.
"What are you hiding in that cesspit of a mind?" he demanded, "Prove that you have a use for me!"
Nanny Tatters tilted her head side ways, her single eye blinking at him with effort. He beetled his eye brows at her, part of his mind squeaking about the fact that she was without skin, she should not be able to blink at him but that part was small and quiet and the rest of him was too angry to listen to it. He was being disrespected again! He needed to show this party of ragamuffins and riff raff that he was the most powerful, that he was the greatest of them, that they should fear him! Him and no other!
Something flickered in Nanny Tatters' eye, something like a smile and the words of the prayer to strike his enemies with fear bubbled up in his mind.
"I already know that one, you stupid hunk of dead meat!" Jeremiah slapped her, but it had as much affect as slapping a slab of raw beef. Growling with frustration, Jeremiah turned and carved his fingers through the air, chanting the words to the prayer to shrink his enemies that he had used so successfully on Nanny Tatters herself, to diminish them, to reduce them, to shrivel their power and make them whimper and beg for his mercy, to plead for their miserable lives before his feet. His fingers curled, claw like as the chant reached its peak and he released his god's power.
The massive beasts, the behemoths that rivaled the building around them, turned their heads and barked, their voices unexpectedly high, sounding almost... amused. He had tickled them and they yipped their amusement at him as he stood and gaped at the failure of the prayer. Then his god's awareness pressed in upon his mind. He dropped to his knees, hands clasping his head as his god spoke in his mind.
"You think that you can use my powers by rote?" his god rumbled, "You think that you can just say a mouthful of words and have what you want just pop into existence in front of you because you want it? Do you think I am a weapon you keep in your pocket, an obedient dog that you can order to bite someone just because you demand that I do so? You over reach yourself! Glorify me! Glorify me with your pathetic little life, priest, or face the wrath that made the creators tremble!"
"Yes, yes, oh great Klu'ga-nath!" Jeremiah begged, "Forgive me! Forgive this wretched worm that has displeased you! You are the mighty, the wonderful, the greatest of all gods! The one who solely has the right to rule the cosmos! Please! Allow this worthless maggot to serve you and glorify you to the highest heights. Allow me to live at your feet to serve you."
His god did not reply but the crushing sense of scrutiny lessened and Jeremiah looked up in time to see the siege beast on the left begin stomping forward towards Myslynn, its huge feet on track to stamp on Thorian's prone form into the flagstones.
"You!" Jeremiah barked to Nanny Tatters, "Wake him up!" She took off like lightning, even as he called the three undead Ash Elves to step it up as his meat shield between him and not only the siege beasts but also the packs of werewolf abominations that were beginning to swarm down the face of the ornate buildings to either side of them. He wrinkled his face as his puppets stepped up either side of him. Something must have rotted inside of them, bursting some sort of membrane in the last hour or so because all of a sudden their smell was increasingly vile and their steps sounded ever more soggy. Despite all of his intentions he may well have to dispose of them soon and find some newer specimens. He glanced around. Well there were plenty of specimens to pick from around here but maybe he had better wait for a more opportune moment, such as one where his god wasn't feeling quite so irritated with him.
Nanny Tatters flight was some what unsteady as her lack of a tail hampered her steering but it was quick this low to the ground and she came crashing in with a massive impact right on target. It probably was a good thing that Thorian had gone face down on the hairy cushion of the dead werewolf, otherwise where Nanny Tatters landed would have probably hampered any future prospects of him fathering children. As it is, the strike was one massive great kick to the behind.
"Owwwwww!" Thorian moaned, rolling away, "I'm trying to sleep, come back tomorrow." A taloned foot smashed down where his head had been a moment before. "Wait, what?" Thorian blinked as the foot stepped back. His managed to focus his eyes as a snout bigger than anything he'd ever seen before lowered towards him, lips rippling back from fangs that gleamed with dribble.
"What the feck!?!" Thorian yelled, doing the biggest power push up ever, launching himself backwards at the same time, bending at the knees to catapult himself into a kneeling position in an instance. "Butt off!" His fist smacked the werewolf siege beast on the end of its nose and it reared back with a yip, its eyes watering.
Myslynn's short weapon barked twice at the same siege beast, the acrid whiff of smoke trailing from its short tube and the beast howled in pain as red bloomed high on its shoulder. Lady Zilvra's brothers and their cousin lined up beside the dwergs and dropped to one knee in unison, hands steady and bolts hissing towards the siege beast on the left side of the street as well but the feathered shafts didn't seem to do much more than irritate the creature, its lips lifting in a snarl that shuddered through the air.
At the edge of the roof to the left, the white werewolf came crawling back, eyes gleaming, fangs shining as it gazed down into the street at the swarming hoard and its heavy weight back up, the tattered remains of the first wave flanking it, yipping and yapping their amusement as they watched the tables turn in the pack's favor. Or so they excepted as their white furred leader threw back his head and howled, a long, drawn out bell call to rally the troops and steady the wounded.
"If that is how you wish to play this," Sinbar cocked an eyebrow and lifted his flute to his lips, eyes locked on the swarm of abominations that were crawling down the face of the building to his right, their oozing eyes and oil slicked hides rippling like a distorted echo of Valodrael's liquid form. The tune that spilled from Sinbar's flute was a taunting, distracting air that slipped into the ears to tickle the brain, an audio seduction of the senses, of the consciousness.
The Abominations snarled and then realized that half of them were not snarling at Sinbar and Estella, half of them were swinging towards the rest of them. There was a questioning bark and then a shriek as claws, fangs and sheer raw muscle power struck, pieces flying in different directions as the swarm tumbled from the buildings face, one of their number coming apart in a welter of red and black, ripped by the claws of its pack mates. The right pack of abominations landed on the pavement and swirled into two groups, snarling and snapping at each other, half of them spitting red while the other half had eyes that shone with a azure hue.
If that was a signal the siege beast to the left shook itself, bolts still embedded in its hide, and stomped towards the doors of Principle Mound, the steps cracking under its weigh, guards scattering right and left, swinging out with their war hammers at its toes. It bark and howled, recoiling slightly, picking up its feet in turn as their blows stung and bruised.
The right siege beast stamped towards Sinbar's skeletons. Sinbar's face turned red as his fingers flew, weaving a counter point into his music to guide his puppets at the same time as keeping his control on the werewolf abominations. Half of his skeletons stepped forward, war picks raised, moving with an unnatural speed for the constructs of a necromancer as Sinbar's tune spiraled up and up, the tempo racing from an allegretto to a vivacissimo, notes falling over themselves to fly through the air, tumbling so quick that it seemed that he was playing two tunes simultaneously, face beet red as sweat began to trickle down his brow. But his concentration didn't waver as the mighty feet crashed down again and again, their scaly, bony mass crushing rubble to dust but missing and missing again as Sinbar did not let his skeletons fail, their silver wrapped bones moving with a fluid grace that matched the music, the fight seeming more to be a dance than a battle. Brown eyes alight with concentration, Sinbar poured his heart and soul into the music, the tune reaching for the heavens from the depth of Hades, something beyond the here, the now driving him as the siege beast roared in frustration.
Estella twisted the bracelet she had taken from the citadel of the Snake Clan and the golden light flared along the band blazing into the shape of the runes around her wrist and her form vanished from sight, the talismans taking flight into the air, buzzing around the siege beast's ears, twittering and zipping with a noise that sounded more aggressive than they usually uttered after their mother had disappeared. Sinbar flinched as the purple toad landed on his shoulder and shifted until it was comfortable. It inflated and started to sing, harmonizing its violin voice with the tune that Sinbar was playing, adding a new thread to the music. Sinbar grabbed a breath and played again, fingers aching but it was worth it as another abomination went down, slashed open by an azure eyed pack mate. Confused and under siege, broken into two smaller swarms, the abominations on the right side of the street retreated back up the face of the buildings, snapping and slashing with their claws every grip of the way but they still retreated.
Unfortunately the swarm on the left was only just getting started. Howling they charged Myslynn's body guards, the front rank taking the blows from their war hammers, while the second rank struck before the guards could recover their swings. Most of the abomination's claws squealed off of heavy dwerg armor but a voice screamed out, high and pained. An abomination grinned, its claws hooked up under the helmet of a guard, red flowing in a river though the dwerg's beard and then it flexed and with a fleshy rip, the guard's head came free of his shoulders.
"Tally Ho!" Ulrich cried, "Charge!" Peter surged forwards, mandibles scissoring and snapping, Ulrich's bright blades flashing. These abominations appeared to be quicker than the first ones he'd faced, ducking and weaving, three feet dancing a complicated dance across the broken flagstones as their clawed hands reached for him, avoiding the bright edges of his blades as they did so. Ulrich struck out and as then snapped back, clubbing one of them on the temple with the pommel of his sword. It yelled and staggered, shaking its head from side to side, blinking its eyes.
Mr Shouty Dwerg Lord struck out with his hammer, making the air whistle as the blow whizzed passed under the nose of the left side siege beast. It retreated as the guards swung at its ankles, yelping its distress that such small creatures could stand up to it, their blows bruising and stinging its scales. It howled as one blow cracked a talon length ways from tip to base, hobbling back, favoring that foot, a low growl of temper building in its throat.
Haggis rang out, Kaelin straining to match Sinbar's tune, weaving something new around the base line he had created. Sinbar's eyes sparkled as his fingers relaxed, flicking through the notes with renewed ease. On the steps of Principle Mound the head of Mr Shouty's war hammer glowed with the light of a well banked forge and Myslynn's war hammer echoed the phenomenon, shining like a star come to earth in her hands, the light shimmering to the beat of Haggis's music as Kaelin strained and blew into his bag.
Even Jeremiah smiled as he climbed up off his knees, his god's ire smouldering down to a muted interest. Something was happening here that was worth withholding the punishment his disciple so richly deserved in order to observed. Jeremiah sweated a little at that knowledge but muttered a pray of thanks for the stay of execution. He twitched his fingers, watching the skein of power curling round them. Maybe it was a good thing he hadn't ended Kaelin when he'd had the chance. If she could pull off a stunt like this regularly then perhaps he should consider trying to convert her to his gods faith. The question was what leverage should he use to start it. Maybe the offer of his god's power to aid her to finish the job with her grandfather. Just how desperate was she to end the threat her grandfather posed? Then he remembered that if she hadn't finished the job within the month then Lady Zilvra's Ash Elves were going to skin her alive. Maybe all he had to do was wait until the right moment, for when she was desperate enough to reach for any salvation.
Then all of a sudden Haggis' notes turned sour, screeching a blistering discord against Sinbar's melody, raking over the nerves hard enough to make the eyes water and the mind burn.
"My dear," Jeremiah called as he clapped his hands to the sides of his heard, "May we define - a racket!"
However, if the dissonance was painful for most of Kaelin's captive audience then it was utter agony for the siege beasts, with their larger ears funneling the cacophony right into their brains. They howled, rearing back, heads snapping from side to side. The one on the right stumbled, crashing into the corner of the building, shattering dressing stones, breaking the corner of the roof off but the thunder of collapsing rumbled just seemed to make Haggis' noise even worse. The other slammed its head against the side of Principle Mound over and over again, howling with pain, clawing at its own ears, flailing with misery.
The white werewolf howled, cutting through the noise, rallying his failing troops, the werewolves at his side, steadying as their eyes tracked for signs of weakness. One of them perked its ears forward, eyes locking on a spot on the street that appeared empty. It lifted a claw and pointed, growling to its leader, the whole group zeroing in on the invisible prey that had betrayed its presences with a scent and a sound. The white Werewolf's jaw open with a drool ridden smile, claws flexing ready to render tender flesh.
Valodrael surged up the side of the buildings, thunder, low and vicious rising in his throat, his supernova eyes glowing with a fire that would put hell to shame. The building shuddered as roof tiles cracked under his talons, icy squealing as it spread from his shadow, snow falling as the cold rolling of his hide froze the moisture out of the air. The white werewolves and his flanking pack mates turned, snarling back, bunching their limbs ready to spring. Valodrael reared, wings made from liquid night flaring wide, nebula bursting and exploding over his hide as his chest swelled, his breath rattling like the chill of winter through the limbs of a forest froze until the trees were ready to explode. The white werewolf opened his jaws to sound the attack.
Spears of ice leaped into being from the slates at Valodrael's explosive breath, the air screaming as it contracted. The white werewolves and his crew didn't just freeze in place, their exploded in slow motion, stalagmites of red ice rupturing through their hides, faces warping into agony as every fiber, every tissue, every cell froze, the air curdling in their lungs as the network of passages burst. They didn't even get the chance to scream as Valodrael hissed the last of the chill of the void between his teeth.
"Mine!" he rumbled, glaring at the twisted thing that had been the white werewolf and his cronies. His head swung round as he settled back to all four feet, nostrils flaring as he caught a scent he did not recognize.
"And who are you?" he asked the air as his head swung to and fro, "I smell you. I can taste you. You smell like the Ash Elves but that isn't everything thing you smell of. You have been to the surface. Yes!" He turned, nose honing in on the scent. "You have been to the surface for a long time. So, are you a threat that I should dispose of? I confess that this little fight is building quite the... appetite within me." For a moment the skull of a werewolf pressed up under the gleaming hide on his shoulder, its features going soft as Valodrael's internal processes dissolved it.
"No need for that good sir," a voice reassured and Valodrael focused on a form at the edge of the build's roof. He frowned. He did not remember there being a statue on the particular area of roof as he blazed passed. Then the statue was not a statue but a figure in a light grey, hooded cloak, a figure that slowly reached back and pulled and arrow from the quiver on its back, setting it to the string of its bow and beginning the long, slow draw, barbed head leveled at the shuddering siege beast.
Ulrich laughed as Peter the centipede swayed and rolled below him like a ship in a gale, his many legs scrapping and scrabbling on the flagstones as his mouth parts snipped and snipped and snipped again at the werewolf abomination's legs. There were lots of legs to chose from and it made the abominations jump and hop around like their were dancing to the crazy tune of a mad men, totally out of sink with Sinbar's continued efforts at harmony. Laughing Ulrich hung on, slashing out with one hand but if anything Peter's efforts to bag himself a meal was hindering his rider's efforts to equal Thorian's kill tally, the sudden twists and turned threatening to buck Ulrich clear off his back and at the same time, making the movement patterns of the Abominations that much harder to predict. Ulrich struck one more time and by more luck than judgement felt his sword strike home, an Abominations neck opening up like a fountain.
"That's for my shirt, you dogs," he roared, completing the slice through.
On the other side of the street, Estella, unseen and unseeable crept forward, light fingers slowly but steadily undoing the knots on one of Sinbar's pouches. Her fingers dipped in. Sinbar frown, feeling a slight sift in the way his belt hung but he was too busy concentrating on playing the flickering, dancing notes that were keeping half of his minions under control and the other half nimble enough to not be crushed into powder. Then three things flew passed his shoulder to burst with small detonations on the flagstones at the right hand siege beast's feet only instead of the dust settling and clearing it swirled together, sifting upwards, filling up invisible intangible molds until three new skeletons stood amongst Sinbar's original creations, closing the gaps in the formation and making the siege beast go cross eyed as it tried to focus on what was really in front of it though the painful music echoing in its head.
Sinbar frowned and grunted. He couldn't risk lifting his fingers from the flute, nor turn to reprimand Estella but he was going to have words with her after this, long words about how scarce those dragons teeth were. Even through his frown he did not allow the rhythm of the song to die, his brow beginning to sweat again with the effort. There was another tug at his belt and he almost, almost, blew a sour note in irritation at Estella's further pilfering but then the handkerchief wiped across his brow and he relaxed. Maybe there were benefits to having an invisible friend. If nothing else, you could do some amazing magic shows with an invisible assistant. That could bare some thought but he pushed it from his mind, now was not the time for distractions as the werewolf abominations under his control clawed and bit and snarled at their one time pack brethren. They had retreated back to the roof top and Sinbar had to squint, seeking to lock his mind with at least one of those under his control so that he could see through their eyes, see what they were seeing so he could direct them properly. He fought to keep his breathing steady as bile tried to crawl its way up his throat. No he did not want to know what these things found stimulating, he really did not, oh yuck, there were somethings that he just did not want to know but he had made the contention and the swarm under his control began acting again as one.
Jeremiah smiled and bowed to his god as he surveyed the roiling mass that was the street. Quietly he began murmuring a prayer to his god, taking care to craft a unique one, not just spewing one off of rote. He build the pray, weaving together compliment, compliance and request and then he straightened, flinging the completed pray at Nanny Tatters' doddering carcass.
The siege beast on the right hand side of the street reared back, howling, eyes wide as, creaking and groaning, Nanny Tatters' body went from the size of a pony to her full original size. Jeremiah did frown a little as he realized that she didn't seem to be quite so skinless as she had been, that there seemed to be some sort of transparent membrane stretched tight over her body but the effect of stunned amazement on the part of the siege beast was most satisfactory. A slight thought impulse sent at Nanny Tatters made sure that it didn't have time to regain its faculties.
The air rattled with the dry gasping of a stone cold tomb being broached for the first time in millennium and the siege beast screamed, the fur of its jaw line and crest turning ashy white as a wind rippled through it, drawn towards Nanny Tatters' gaping gullet, its skin sagging into wrinkles and folds, the bright fire of its eyes dimming. It crashed back against the battered bulk of the terrace of lore courts on the right hand side of the street, only the masonry keeping it on its feet as it struggled and thrashed.
Jeremiah grinned too busy patting himself on the back and remembering to thank his god, to realize that something had changed about Nanny Tatters in those few minutes. The transparent membrane had turned translucent and the blue of her one huge orb of an eye was being diluted with some of its original color. Sinbar frowned against, still not breaking off his playing as he glanced at the tailless, one eyed dragon. There was something unnerving about her, even for a necromancer and he really wished that he had more time to try and get a handle on just what Jeremiah's deal was.
There was a hiss as the figure crouching in the edge of the left hand roof let fly with the arrow and the left siege beast reared with a scream, snapping left and right at an enemy that wasn't near it, the long shaft of the arrow stuck neatly through its ear, giving it a rather rakish piercing that none the less burned and stung like the billy-o. The figure grunted in displeasure and readied another arrow.
Kaelin blew into Haggis with all her strength and flinched, feeling Haggis shift in her arms, a strange wriggling that she had never felt before when playing him. She very nearly dropped him with a squeaked expletive as she felt fur grow against her palm. Blowing on just pure instinct she span to stare at her shadowy reflection in a window that had not yet been shattered.
Haggis was changing shape.
As she stared, trying to remember to move her fingers, Kaelin saw the tartan of his bag shift under her arm and change, thick, silky grey and black fur erupting out of the pattern until he was not a tartan bag but a luscious pelt that still bore the suggestion of the chequered pattern of his original form. Her eyes stretched wide as the drones darkened, turning to ebony, tipped with elaborate carvings of opened mouthed wolf heads, teeth inset with chips of ivory. The feel of the chanter below her fingers changed and she glanced down to see that it was now a rod of ivory attached to the neck of the now furry bag by an ornate wolf's head that had eyes made of beads of ebony set in the ivory. Even blowing fit to burst Kaelin managed to smile round the mouthpiece of the blow stick. She took another swelling breath and blow for all she was worth.
Haggis didn't drone, he howled, the alpha throat roar of the top predator proclaiming its territory to the world. The werewolf siege beast on the left hand side of the street reeled back, whimpering and shaking its head from side to side, claws snagging the arrow through its ear and tearing it free, the blood staining its fur as it dripped from its jaw, as it wrestled with its ears, the music boring into its brain like a twelve inch drill bit.
Myslynn narrowed her eyes as she assessed the state of the reeling monster, then she straightened, hefting her war hammer. She swung it in looping patterns around her body, the light glowing in its head building, leaving intersecting trails on the air. Myslynn lifted her hammer high and brought it down on the center of the design.
"Zikk Mju!" she yelled as the hammer head smashed into the web of light as if it was a solid as metal. The light became solid, became incandescent, shattered and the beast howled as a hammer of light slammed into its ribs and something inside cracked. Its head drooped as it fought to catch its breath, cross eyed with the effort of staying on its feet.
Mr Shouty drew himself up and began swinging his war hammer in the same pattern, building the same web of light.
"Ah, I see that originally is some what lacking around here," Jeremiah observed loudly.
The war hammer crashed down, the web of light becoming solid and then bursting. This time the siege beast wheezed, eyes bulging as something inside cracked and deformed, its breath closing in harsh gulps, blood bubbling and bursting at the corner of its mouth.
Valodrael grinned and streaked along the roof, heedless of the frozen bodies that burst in his wake, snapped by wing or tail as he lashed passed. He didn't slow as he reached the edge of the roof, leaping into air, into space, into the gulf, jaws gaping wide, eyes gleaming with wicked light.
The siege beast crashed into the side of Principle Mound, windows bursting under its weight, rock shattering, stone cracking as Valodrael's claws raked through its hide. Valodrael's wings beat, pulling it back from the building, yanking it around as one set of talons split through its side and hung loose in the air, kicking for a foot hold as his teeth found its scruff and hauled back. The siege beast roared and span, teeth clashing, unable to twist round far effort to bite the thing chewing on the back of its neck. Dwerg guard stumbled out for under its feet as it span across the patio before the doors Principle Mound.
Thorian pulled himself to his feet, fatigue toxins swilling in his skull.
"I just wanted to sleep," he grunted, red beginning to fill his eyes, "I just wanted to sleep! I JUST WANTED TO SLEEP!"
The red claimed him completely and he roared as he charge towards the staggering, lurching siege beast, leaping as Valodrael's wing drew back.
The howl shattered windows along the street, the siege beast's arm hanging on by threads of skin and tendon, flapping in the wind as the red sheeted across the flag stones.
"Well done!" Valodrael called, grinning to Thorian as the orc crossbreed landed and rolled. Still grinning, Valodrael reached down and round the side of the siege beast's barrel, hooked his claws into the flapping arm and yanked back, hide splitting with a noise that turned the stomach. This time the siege beast could hardly scream, its voice disintegrating in agony. Valodrael's grin became even wider if that was possible.
The siege beast on the right hand side of the street didn't fair much better as it clawed and raked and bite at Nanny Tatters but the Crone dragon seemed to have become wily in her second life and none of its strikes hit, making Jeremiah's puppet grin as the claws breezed passed her hide.
Quenril, Tasnar and their cousin Sabal, dropped the bolts in to the grooves of their hand bows and leveled them. The bolts zipped out, slamming in to the side of the siege beast's face and neck as it span under Valodrael's beating weight. It cried out, high and thin, shrill and almost child like, a sound that chilled the nerves.
Sinbar closed his eyes. He knew that sound meant that it was nearly over for the creature, that its suffering was nearly over and that it had never needed to suffer, if it had just stayed away then all of this was never needed but it still scrapped over nerves that were still raw even after all the years. The tune his music took on was one of sorrow and pain, a scream from the heart that still bled for what it could no longer hold. The siege beast that faced Nanny Tatters recoiled, whimpering, ceased by a pain it did not understand and could not name.
The abominations that were under Sinbar's control reacted in a some what different manner, pain turning to rage, to the will to shattered someone, anyone as long as that person would then feel the pain that was coursing through them. The opposing part of the swarm didn't stand a chance, shredding claws rendering and ripping flesh and bone. The red splattered and flew.
The skeletons were having trouble of their own, blows bouncing off of scaly skin as they swayed and hopped, keeping out from underneath the crushing talons of the siege beast.
Ulrich was having a similar problem to Thorian as he realized that Jeremiah had healed him yes but that did not take the exhaustion away from his muscles and these enemies were fresh to the fight. It seemed that his swords were becoming heavier and heavier, the points becoming harder and harder to lift, to whip through the air. His shoulders and back ached and it was becoming harder and harder to compensate for Peter's erratic movements. Ulrich tried to remember to concentrate on his breathing; the last thing he needed now was a cramp to set in. It was hard, hard to remember with the black claws hooking towards his face, when the stink and grime of battle was lodging up his nose, when time seemed to be taking too long to move and yet no time at all. The only thing he could celebrate was that the one large swarm he had been fighting had broken into two smaller ones, but considering the numbers still stacked against him it wasn't much in the way of comfort. Oh well, he'd just have to chew it raw and swallow it if Jeremiah decided to be unpleasant about it later. It wasn't anything he hadn't dealt with before now.
"I hat to be a kill joy," he called, "But I could do with a little help over here. It isn't that I don't appreciate the chance to be the hero but holding the left flank its becoming a little tiresome!"
Myslynn turned, lowering her war hammer and pulling the little device out of her belt. She stepped through the ranks of her body guard and leveled it at the back of one of the Abomination's heads. The bark of thunder compressed into half the space and the top of the Abomination's head jumped clear of its skull.
"Nice blow, ma'am!" Ulrich called, deflecting the blow aimed at his neck. The Abomination that had struck at him reared back, blood trailing from its split hand.
Kaelin blew into Haggis again, stumbling a little. All of this effort was beginning to make her head spin slightly and she wasn't sure she enjoyed that. Haggis howled, the music rippling through the air, harsh and boring into lupine brains. The siege beast on the left crashed down to its knees, Valodrael grinning as he rode it down, claws closing on the back of its neck.
"Shame I don't have a chain," he bubbled, slamming its head into the floor, "You'd wear it well! But there again, maybe I have." His tail whipped forward, stretching out, longer, longer, thinner and thinner, wrapping once round the siege beast's neck. Valodrael twisted the length round his claws... and snapped it tight. The siege beast choked, eyes bulging, its one good arm scrabbling against the floor, its bulk rocking as it scrabbled for purchase.
"You just don't know when to quit, do you?" Valodrael asked as he leaned back, his tail drawing tighter around the beast's throat, spines of ice sprouting from the dorsal ridge to dig into the flesh, puncturing through scales.
With the siege beast most assuredly distracted the Ash Elves of the Snake Clan turned on the swarm of Abominations threatening Ulrich. The black hided monsters screamed as the bolts slammed into their number, backs arching round the barbed heads, the smaller of the swarms splitting into the individual members, their coordination breaking down as they all chose different targets to attack.
"Thank you muchly good chaps," Ulrich called out.
Jeremiah rolled his eyes. The whole afternoon had frankly become boring in the extreme, these things apparently unable to take the hint that they had well and truly lost this battle and his companions unable to do the job they were paid for. It was dragging on beyond what was interesting and he was tired of it. There had been the offer of food at their hosts house and he would much rather be investigating that than this continued battering on the rather thick skulls of some werewolves who couldn't even manage the change properly. At least Kaelin could manage something that looked half way ascetically pleasing, whereas these malformed things just seemed to be unable to decide where their legs were supposed to be attached.
"Hurry up and finish this little matter," he called, waving a derogatory hand, "It is long over due."
Nanny Tatters gapped open her maw and sucked in but all that happened this time was that the siege beast cowered for a moment, expecting the worse and confused when it didn't happen.
"Oh for pity's sake," Jeremiah groused and turned away, confident that his puppeted Ash Elves would slow an enemy that attacked him, even in their rather soggy and smelly state.
"Excuse me," he called up to the figure that was crouching on the edge of the roof, long bow tracking the efforts of the siege beast across the street from him as Valodrael had the one on the left so busy, "But if you don't mind the interruption, I was wondering if you wouldn't mind kicking any of the bodies up there that are still mostly in one piece over the edge? If you have a minute."
The figure grunted but stood and stepped along the edge of the roof, tipping the defrosting carcass of the white werewolf off the edge of the roof with his toe. It smacked into the flagstones with a sound that was somehow wet and frozen at the same time. Well that, rather spoiled his idea of turning it into his next puppet as its insides were now most decidedly broken up but, Jeremiah smiled, there was another possibility.
"Tell me good sir," Jeremiah said as he walked over and crouched down by the white werewolf's broken body, "What is your name? And why did you decide to help us right now?"
"My name? Well you can know me as Janus," the figure crouched and took aim again, "And you looked like you needed help." He sighted down the length of the arrow.
Down on the road below, Estella looked at Sinbar even though none of the others could see her. Somehow he kept his face schooled as her voice spoke out of empty air.
"I know that tune!" Her voice rose strong and steady and mellow, the voice of a young lady who had at least some training in the vocal arts, blending and elevating the music, soaring to new heights over the tumult of the battle, spinning round the combatants, distracting the werewolves and pouring new energy into the dwergs and their allies. The werewolf abominations began to falter, hesitate, becoming aware that they were standing over a slick of their own dead. Some whimpered but others saw it as an opportunity.
One snarled and struck out at one of Myslynn's guards, rattling his helmet and making it ring like a gong. The guard stumbled back and brought the heft of his war hammer up, blocking the beast's next strike, twisting off its aim.
Up on the roof Janus pulled his long bow to full draw and let fly an arrow. It hissed across the boulevard and pierced the right hand siege beast's ear. It threw back its head and howled. That noise seemed to give its throttling pack mate a burst of energy.
"What!?!" Valodrael barked, the beast rearing to its feet underneath him. He yelled as it span and crashed backwards against the already battered Principle Mound. Stone and masonry crumbled and thundered to the ground, Valodrael's wings battering against the wall, his grip slipping as its weight crushed him, the black fluid of his form splashing against the stones. The siege beast lurched away from the Void dragon, the tail wrapped round its neck turning to dark water and slopping onto the flag stones. It spotted Mr Shouty and lunged.
"Look out sir!" a guard threw himself forward, knocking My Shouty out of the way but he wasn't fast enough to evade it himself. There was a scream, snipped short and the siege beast flicked back its head with a gulp.
"You BASKET!" Thorian roared, muscles swelling across his chest as his eyes glowed with his fury. The siege beast started to turn and then screamed as its leg gave out from underneath it, Thorian's sword having sheered clean through the hamstring at the back of its knee. Its roar of pain was cut short as Thorian's sword point pierced its lung. The red misted into the air as it struggled to breath, its bulk crashing down, nearly crushing Thorian but he was just ahead of its falling mass. It kicked and kicked again, the breath bubbling and hissing in its throat, choking its life across the flagstones, its own weight now crushing the life out of its injured lungs. There was a final explosion of red from between its jaws and it finally lay still.
With a sucking, twisting crunching Valodrael pulled himself back together, the black ooze of his hide rippling into place.
"Impressive," he gave a nod to Thorian.
Mr Shouty stared up at the rippling form of the Void dragon, armor rattling slightly, struggling to understand what his eyes were telling him he saw. He lifted a hand, finger twitching through the air, trying the form the gesture for the warding against evil but his mind was too busy curling up in a corner and squeaking for it to truly happen. Then the floor shuddered as something crashed down behind him and his guards were trying to get him to his feet. He twisted on his knees and saw the second siege beast staggering back and forth with Nanny Tatters, claws flashing between them, heads snapping and lunging, teeth clashing together.
Now that, that was something he understood, that was something the sacred ancestors wrote about, that was something he could handle.
He climbed to his feet, ignoring his guards trying to hustle him away, war hammer swinging in beautifully controlled sweeps, over and under, round and round, building the cage of light before it, the woven ribbons of brightness perfect, clean, clear.
"Mong Knark!" he ordered, smashing the head of his war hammer into the center of the web of light. It became solid, fractured, exploded... and the siege beast screamed as fists of light punched it over and over again. Its head snapped back and then forward, its eye swelling shut, its ear splitting, the red sheeting from its nose as a tooth jumped from its jaws. It staggered, thumping to its knees, head shaking back and forth.
"Out of the way!" Thorian bellowed, barging through Mr Shouty's guards, not breaking stride at the top of the stairs, leaping up, leaping out, sword raised over his head, point aimed at the werewolf siege beast, both hand wrapped round the hilt.
The dust billowed up as they crashed together. A guard coughed as the cloud cleared to reveal Thorian heaving his sword from out of the siege beast's skull. He lifted the reddened blade high and roared his triumph, a raged cheer rising from the battered ranks of the dwerg guards.
A howl reminded them that the battle was not over.
A bark of thunder and a werewolf abomination reeled. Another lunged at Myslynn, claws raking across her breast plate, sagging her beard and ripping a braid out. Myslynn roared back and jammed the short tube of her device up under its chin. The roar of a storm catch inside a bottle and the thing's head just disintegrated, a ropy looking splat that shower the surrounding area with gore. Her guards were unfazed by the mess, stepping forward and clubbing the one that was still reeling, clutching its ribs. They smashed it to the ground and then smashed it into the ground.
Valodrael surged forward, swarming along the face of the building on the left side of the street, head darting forward at the smaller swarm that was pestering Ulrich. His alabaster fangs clashed together as the abominations threw themselves desperately out of the way, they're three legs scrabbling against the flagstones. They had learnt the hard way what the dragon who smelt of cold, crisp winter nights meant for their kind. Valodrael grinned and rumbled. It was such fun to watch them tremble.
Jeremiah straightened from his inspection of the corpse of the white werewolf. Smiling in his beard he started twisting his fingers through the air, gathering the skeins of power, weaving them to his pray, a pray that he was careful to custom build as he really wanted this one to work. It appeared that his god approved of the idea as the blue began to gather in the werewolf's fur, shimmering like heat above the desert. It rose into the air, hanging there, the outline of the white werewolf done in contour art style, blue light on a back ground of stained stone, only it wasn't the full out line. The lips rippled back from the fangs, the shoulders hunched, the mane bristled but from the waist down it was only single lines of light, no form, tethers attaching it to its mortal remains, holding it bound.
"Weak man scum," it snarled at Jeremiah, trying to lunge forward, to bite with spectral teeth. Jeremiah held up a hand, palm out, damming its approach. It reeled back from that gesture, eyes wide as its form twisted and shuddered, ripped again by the agony of its last seconds in its flesh, knowing again the agony of Valodrael's ice tearing through its vitals. It had no need for air any more but it gasped and gulped, remembered responses to pain ruling its mind.
"Now that your little moment of peak has been punished," Jeremiah grinned at it, "If you will look to your left, you can witness the last of the punishment that is the righteous payment of all who resist the will of Klu'ga-nath." The werewolf's ghost snarled and lunged again. Jeremiah dammed it again and it screamed, caught in the vise grip of its final moments, the sensation of exploding from the inside out as its organs froze.
"Oh dear, oh dear," Jeremiah shook his head, "You really don't seen to learn from your mistakes do you?"
This time the werewolf's ghost merely hung in the air and snarled quietly, not looking at its tormentor.
"Now, now, now," Jeremiah smiled unctuously, "I told you to look." It's lips rippled but it didn't make a sound. However, neither did it look.
Jeremiah lifted his hand again. The werewolf screamed, the memory of its bones cracking as the frozen marrow burst out of its containment ripping through its mind. Whimpering it turned its head to the last of its pack, in time to see Janus' arrow sink into the face of an abomination below its eye and snuff out its life. The swarm was breaking up, its loses unsustainable and too many foes closing in on it.
Sinbar frowned with concentration. His fingers were burning and his palms felt ready to cramp, the dull ache spreading up his wrists. Even with Estella's efforts with his handkerchief the sweat was getting into his eyes and it stank. He blinked and water ran down his cheeks. Still he held the beat, notes spinning into the air faster than galaxies spun and above him, on the roof, the last of the abominations he had not been able to control from that swarm felt, the grizzly ripping marking its passage.
Ulrich struck out and struck out, every single one of his blows missing. He kept his eyes resolutely on his targets even as they twisted and turned away from his blades. He could feel it behind him, he could feel the dragon of shadows and burning light. It was there behind him, summoned by what ever it was that Jeremiah was doing, what ever it was that was causing those dreadful screams. It was there, its light burning and yet bringing no warmth, its texture caustic to the mind. Valodrael was terrifying but there was something understandable in his joyful glee at the prospect of destruction and chaos. This thing? The thing behind him, the dragon that Jeremiah was drawing power from? There was no joy in its regard of those before it, only a great and terrible intellect, a dreadful calculating and a desire that Ulrich couldn't name and couldn't understand. He kept his eyes from looking back. He was not going to look back, he was not going to look behind and see whatever it was that hung there.
"Kaelin! Kaelin get these stupid dogs to get out of here!" he cried out, "Get them to run away!"
Kaelin frowned, wondering about the note of near panic in Ulrich's voice and she wondered how he expected her to deal with them. It wasn't like she was pack leader and could order the retreat. She turned, still blowing into Haggis' bag and spotted the pair of azure eyed abominations crouching on the edge of the roof above Sinbar. Drawing a deep breath she blew, fingers sliding up and down the chanter. She knew the feel she was going for, the sound she wanted, that dreadful noise that happened whenever Jeremiah summoned those 'things' from whatever pit they crawled out of, those things of shadow and despair. Those things that stank of the corruption and the grave as their mangled forms slithered and crawled into reality.
The abominations screamed as one, hands clapping over their ears... only then they lowered their claws, grins wrinkling their snouts as the azure glow was purged from their eyes.
"Oh great," Sinbar finally faltered, face red as the flute fell from his lips, "You've torn it now!"
Behind him there was a squeal, cut short as Valodrael's head lunged again, his neck extending impossibly long, jaws clapping down on an abomination. Its hands clawed at him, slicing through the black oil of his muzzle as his neck retracted to a more comfortable length for a creature that was clinging face down on the front of a building, his tail looped lazily round the edge of the roof. The gouge marks closed with soft, wet noises, then Valodrael's head tilted back and he began gulping, the abomination sliding down his throat by degrees, its kicking feet more and more desperate, its terrified face rising and sinking within the black surge that made Valodrael's form. With a final click, Valodrael's teeth snipped shut behind his meal and he smacked his lips, tongue flicker.
"Old liver," he delivered his verdict, "Shame, I prefer it as pate."
There was a roar as Thorian leapt from the back of the deceased siege beast and barrelled his way across the flagstones, sliding on his knees under Nanny Tatters huge form, jumping up into a sprint and swinging his sword in a massive two handed sweep. The last werewolf abomination in front of Ulrich came apart down the middle, its halves falling away from each other, an almost perfect anatomy diagram in the flesh.
"There!" Thorian grinned, resting the flat of his sword on his shoulder, "That's two-teen for me."
"Two-teen?" Ulrich lowered his sword with a crocked smile.
"Yeah," Thorian nodded, "Or one of them funny letters that mean lots. Still, pretty sure I won this round. Them two big beggars ought to count for four to start."
"They only count as one," Ulrich argued, "One each, that is."
"No," Thorian insisted, "Four."
"Oh, really, must you interrupt when I was enjoying the show?" Jeremiah complained, turning from the whimpering ghost of the white werewolf, "I can't hear properly." A nerve scrapping howl echoed up from the buildings on the other side of the street, the last two abominations screaming their wroth and grief, a wordless promise to be back to seek revenge.
"That's quite enough of that!" Jeremiah barked, gesturing with a finger. Nanny Tatters turned and leapt, a single down beat of her wings lifting her to the edge of the roof. The howl, long, drawn out and shifting cut short in yips of fear. Nanny Tatters blinked once and slapped one of the abominations with an upwards sweep of her claws, punting it into the air. There was a crash as it smashed into the cavern roof and stayed there, a gristly rain dripping and drizzling down. Valodrael tilted his head, cocking an eyebrow. There was something off about that shambling corpse of the Crone dragon that tickled a warning bell in his mind and she was entirely too close to Estella for his comfort.
Kaelin had already slung Haggis behind her back. With a breath she stretched into the change and charged, scaling the face of the building, leaping from scroll work to cornices to balconet, hooking an arm over the edge of the roof and hauling herself up. The last werewolf abomination turned, roaring at her. She struck at it and it caught her hand. She struck at it again and it caught her other hand. Kaelin pulled back against it. It spun her and pushed her over backwards. She grunted as her back smashed into the roof slates, a knee to her midriff driving the breath from her lungs. The werewolf abomination grinned, lips rippling back from its fangs. Kaelin's eyes narrowed and then she let the fight drain from her limbs, whimpering as if she was beaten. Its head came in close to her face, its breath making her want to heave. It snuffled at the fur behind her ear... Then her head came round and her teeth set into the side of its neck. It jerked back, a cry whistling in its throat and Kaelin broke her hands free of its grip, claws setting into its shoulders as she worried it like a rabbit. It struggled but now she had her grip certain. Her head jerked, the red fountained and it rolled off her, jerking and twitching as its life dribbled through its fingers.
"I say, Kaelin?" Ulrich called, after a moment, "Kaelin? Are you all right up there?"
Kaelin stood up, letting them see her but she seemed totally distracted by something, rubbing her mouth up and down her forearms, her gape inhumanly wide.
"Kaelin, what's going on, old girl?" Ulrich called again, not putting his swords away as he nudged Peter towards the middle of the street. There was something decidedly odd about her behavior.
"Kaelin..." he started again.
"Toothpaste!" Kaelin howled, continuing to rub her mouth.
Ulrich frowned, not understanding.
"Toothpaste!" Kaelin howled again, "Toothpaste! Toothpaste! My kingdom for some toothpaste!"
"Oh dear," Estella was trying not to giggle as she reappeared beside Sinbar and handed him back his handkerchief.
