The wicked aura surrounding the Korgun priest filled
the flourishing grove with a venomous chill so sinister
that Valdor could feel the fine hairs on his arms and legs
tingle with uncontrollable excitement. As he circled the
priest, his body poised for attack, Valdor guardedly stepped
to his right side, his left foot crossing over the other,
cautiously gauging his dangerous opponent. He had been caught
off guard by the deceptive priest during the onset of his
attack, of which his tough and weathered leather vest had
paid the price. The potentially fatal gash that ran along
the side of his vest was a reminder to his lapse in judgment
of the Korgun's skills. Despite his vest taking the brunt
of the unsuspected thrust from the priest, the dark priest's
blade had met its mark and tasted the flesh of the former
assassin. The mystical Sun Dagger that the priest wielded
had sliced through the leather vest like an axe through
dead wood. As he pushed the stinging wound from his mind,
Valdor centered his thoughts on defeating the capable and
treacherous opponent. Every thrust of his sword had thus
far been blocked and every parry had missed its target.
Valdor knew very well that the battle would not last forever,
and eventually, either he would find a hole in the Korgun's
defense, or he would fall..
***
Through a smile as twisted as his appearance, the Korgun
priest spoke his name, his voice deep and hoarse, "Te'Goran".
As the words escaped his mouth, he twirled Hadrian's short
sword in his left hand while holding the bejeweled Sun Dagger
in his right. Thrusting the dagger towards Valdor, he quickly
turned the blade with a flick of his wrist and slashed sideways
to where the empathic warrior had stood a second earlier.
Having spun away from the priest's stab, Valdor jumped back
to avoid the chest-high slash that narrowly missed before
bringing his scimitar straight down upon the Korgun. Through
the deafening clang of Valdor's blade crashing upon the
steel of Hadrian's sword, Valdor could hear the ominous
laugh of the Korgun resonate. The battle had gone on longer
than Valdor had anticipated, and the demonic-looking priest
showed no signs of slowing, appearing instead to be gaining
confidence as the fight progressed. Locking his gaze onto
that of the red-eyed Korgun, Valdor spat, "Your incantations
will not save you, demon! One way or another, this night
will be your last."
A deep, short chuckle escaped the priest. "Te'Goran
is the name of the Korgun that stands before you, my ill-fated
friend." Countering Valdor's movements, he continued,
"I thought that you might care to know the name of
the person who will strike you down." With a twinkle
in the red orbs that served as his eyes, Te'Goran flashed
a jagged smile, "The hells of the Underworld await
you, as does your companion." The words struck Valdor
like a piercing blow to his heart, melting the tough exterior
of his hardened warrior spirit. "Hadrian!" he
thought to himself. Glancing past Te'Goran, Valdor's eyes
found Hadrian in the same place where he had landed following
a vicious kick from Te'Goran that had sent the bard crumpling
to the ground. The fact that the small Halfling had not
moved a muscle since crashing into the ground troubled Valdor,
sending a dark cloud through his mind as he anticipated
the worse for his friend.
A quick replay of the events flashed through Valdor's mind.
Hadrian hadn't even seen the blow coming from the dark priest.
He could see Hadrian loosening his bindings and turning
towards where the Korgun had been standing. "Foolish,
Hadrian, simply foolish!" he said to himself. The heavy
leather boot of the Korgun had smashed Hadrian squarely
in his chest, sending the unexpecting Halfling tumbling
end over end, an eerie gasp escaping his lungs as he crashed
lifelessly to the ground.
***
Sensing that his opponent was distracted by the fate of
his smaller companion, Te'Goran began to recite another
silent incantation within his head. The spell of Imbued
Divinity he had cast before sending the Halfling sprawling
to the ground had temporarily granted him the strength and
speed of a demi-god, which had made an already devastating
blow to the much smaller Hadrian, that much more critical.
He fought to stifle a smile as he thought of the Dalimarnian
crashing to the ground; he had surely killed the miserable
Halfling. Calling upon his mental library of clerical spells,
he silently recited a Mental Chaos spell, a spell intended
to cloud Valdor's mind and allow him the opportunity to
strike him down.
As he completed the spell within the confines of his thoughts,
he could see the warrior's facial expression change, a look
of uncertainty washing over his chiseled features. Despite
finding satisfaction in his ability to wreak havoc on his
opponent's mental state, he know that time was not on his
side. He had begun the Sangre Retenge and had drawn the
blood from the ethereal sacrificial lamb. Te'Goran had managed
to mix his blood with that of the woman's prior to the Valdor's
abrupt interruption. All that remained was the holy incantation
inscribed on the small stone altar. Once read, it would
complete the sacrifice, making him one with The Dark Child,
Segarttin.
Glancing over to his left, he could see the woman, kneeling
by the altar, her precious blood staining the white silk
garments that covered her lithe body with a shade of red
that brought a thirst to Te'Goran's lips. The toxic blood
that ran through his veins was surely having an affect on
the infected woman. He struggled to remember her name, quickly
realizing that it did not matter as she would soon suffer
the same fate as her would be rescuers. All he would need
from her now was the black shard. Through her spectral incantations,
she would make the shard appear to him, and then she would
die. All that remained of her fate was whether it would
be sealed by Korgun steel or blood.
***
Valdor fought mightily to clear the fog from his mind. The
inexplicable dizziness had caught the seasoned warrior off
guard, and despite his best efforts, he sensed to be fighting
a losing battle to maintain his focus. He had felt this
way before, many, many times, as each of his visions had
brought on similar states of confusion. But never had he
ever experienced a vision while engaged in battle, not to
mention that he couldn't understand experiencing an empathic
episode so close to his target. Not wanting to give the
priest any indication of his faltering health, he surged
forward, Night's End drawing a shiny gleam through the moon-lit
sky as it sailed overhead towards the Korgun.
Spinning away from the blade with unexpected quickness,
the priest countered with a quick parry of his sword that
caught Valdor's left arm. Valdor knew he had been lucky
to avoid the full impact of the blow, as it surely would
have severed his limb from the rest of his body. Slashing
outward with his scimitar, the assassin found nothing but
air, missing his mark again as the priest swiftly dodged
his swing, ducking low and rolling into his charge at an
uncanny pace. Valdor's innate instincts screamed at him
from within the darkened haze that had settled in his mind.
His intuition told him that something foul was at play,
but through the thickness of the confusion that toiled with
his senses, he could not discern what it was or where it
was coming from.
Holding his sword in his right hand, he reached for the
leather belt that ran across his chest, pulling free two
of the small knives securely strapped to the belt with his
one hand, holding the sharp blades by their small steel
handles. With a flash of his arm, the twin blades silently
sparkled through the air, their razor sharp tips flying
seamlessly toward the priest. With the speed granted to
him by way of his spell, Te'Goran shifted his body to the
side, leaning away from the first blade while at the same
time placing himself directly in front of the second one.
The small knife shredded the thin cloak he wore, digging
into his left shoulder and driving him back into a spin,
the impact of the non-lethal blade causing him to recoil
from the stinging pain and forcing him to drop the Sun Dagger.
Shaking his head, Valdor attempted to clear his mind once
again, his thoughts jumping from the priest, to the injured,
or perhaps worse, Hadrian, then to the woman whom he was
trying to save and back to the priest. Within his mind,
Valdor fought a battle that was every bit as fierce as the
conflict with the Korgun priest. He had bought himself a
few seconds of reprieve, but knew that the wound inflicted
on the Korgun was far from serious and fully expected the
priest to be on him in a matter of seconds. Drawing a deep
breath, he eyed Te'Goran and readied himself. He knew there
would be no more breaks. He had to finish the fight or he
would meet his end.
***
Te'Goran pulled the small silver blade from his shoulder
and spat at Valdor as he tossed it aside. "You'll need
a much larger weapon if you plan to kill me, fool,"
his voice echoing in the night with a hint of rage. He realized
he had underestimated Valdor's ability to reject his simple
domination spells and reached within the mental scrolls
of spells for a more powerful enchantment to cast. He knew
that the magical speed and strength he now possessed would
pass and that he would need much more if he hoped to defeat
his opponent. As his mind searched for the proper spell,
his red eyes followed the stalking Valdor as he calculated
his next move.
Grasping the hilt of Night's End with both hands, Valdor
charged in at the Korgun priest, his mind still clouded,
but clearer than it had been a few seconds ago. His double-handed
chop sliced through the air intent on cleaving the priest
in half, but missing Te'Goran by mere inches as the Korgun
swiftly side-stepped away from the blow. The blinding speed
of the Korgun frustrated Valdor, as Te'Goran appeared to
simply blink from one location to another, deftly avoiding
Valdor's attack and quickly countering with a stab of his
own. The resonance of Te'Goran's sword clanged loudly against
Valdor's Lithirium blade, the forceful impact creating a
small shower of sparks. A quick slash by Te'Goran sent Hadrian's
short sword sailing over Valdor's head, forcing the former
assassin to duck below the fatal blow.
Te'Goran's careless swipe had left him defenseless, as
the force of his swing had caused him to turn his upper
body away from Valdor. Valdor's warrior instincts took control
of the opportunity, as he released his double-handed grip
on his sword and brought a closed-fisted punch up towards
the priest's unsuspecting face. The forceful punch crashed
firmly into Te'Goran's cheek, dislodging one of the Korgun's
jagged yellow teeth and sending him reeling, slashing his
weapon wildly as he backed away from Valdor in hopes of
thwarting a second blow from the warrior. The crunching
sound of the blow had filled Valdor with renewed vigor.
He knew he had hurt the priest and wanted to move in for
the kill but took caution to avoid the wild flailing of
Te'Goran's blade. Valdor's body tensed up as he waited for
the opening that would allow him to drive Night's End into
the priest's chest, but as he readied himself, he suddenly
became alarmed at the site before him.
In what seemed like a split second, the form of the Korgun
priest shimmered, and where there had been only one Korgun,
now stood five, all mirror images of the one Valdor had
been fighting, grinning with the same sinister and blood
lined smile. Valdor quickly recalled his last vision some
four days prior and remembered seeing multiple priests standing
in the very same grove. The vision now made sense to the
former assassin, but in recalling how the vision had ended,
Valdor could feel a growing sense of uncertainty forming
within.
***
"Wake up," the soft voice repeated in his aching
head. "Rise and come to me," the voice echoed,
soothing and calm, reverberating through his mind. Drawing
a deep breath, Hadrian could feel the broken ribs along
his left side pinch his lungs, the searing pain taking his
breath away and causing him to grimace. As he opened his
eyes, he struggled to recall what had happened prior to
losing consciousness. His vision blurred, he rubbed his
eyes to alleviate the dizziness that had beset him and tried
to clear his vision.
Again, the voice rang through his ears, "Reach deep
within your life crystal, young Halfling."
Turning over onto his right side, the stunned Halfling
forced himself up into a sitting position, and with his
right arm planted firmly beside him, pushed himself up onto
his feet. Hadrian could hear a tiny voice within his head
calling out to him. For an instant, he thought that he may
have been dreaming, or even dead, but the distinct clanging
of metal on metal forced the injured Halfling's body to
stiffen, his mind instantly recalling the surrounding danger
and the cause of his wounds.
Fighting through the pain than ripped through his side
and into his chest, Hadrian turned to where Valdor had been
fighting the priest only to find his companion beset by
five Korgun priests, all mirror images of one another, striking
at Valdor in perfect unison. Hadrian recognized the effects
of the Mirror Image spell that the Korgun priest had cast.
He also knew that even a seasoned warrior such as Valdor
could not last long against such magic. Despite the fact
that only the real priest was capable of inflicting any
damage to Valdor, it was impossible to tell which of the
five was real. Hadrian watched as Valdor repeatedly dodged
the attacks from the mirrored priests only to send his own
blade gliding silently through the shimmering images.
A feeling of desperation quickly washed over Hadrian. With
his arm cradled at his side, he glanced frantically at the
ground, his eyes searching for the Elven sword that had
saved his life so many times before. Hadrian pushed the
pain from his injuries far from his mind, a technique Valdor
had shown him some time ago and one that the Halfling never
thought he would ever be able to master. Reaching into the
hidden pockets of his vest Hadrian removed the small bluish
vial of Stoneskin Water he had purchased before leaving
Sidria's home. Knowing it would not be enough, he patted
down his remaining pockets and pouches hoping to find something
else.
Suddenly his eyes lit up as his fingers came to rest upon
the three-bladed weapon he had taken from the Windspear
market. He pulled the weapon from the concealed compartment
and held it in his right hand, his small fingers barely
able to wrap themselves around the weapon's leather core.
Holding the weapon before his face he recalled the merchant's
mangled hand and was reminded of his warning. "Takes
a bit of practice," the short, round man had said.
"I'll settle for the crash course" Hadrian thought.
As Hadrian prepared to join the fight with Valdor, he was
startled to feel a hand placed on his shoulder. Turning
around, he came face to face with the woman whom he and
Valdor had set out to rescue, and was captivated by aura
of heat that emanated from her body. "What…who
are you?" he stuttered, his mind suddenly overcome
by the presence of the woman. Despite the calmness within
her icy blue eyes, Hadrian could see that the woman's health
was fading. The sound of her voice proved he was right.
"This is what you…and your friend have come for,"
the woman said, her voice gentle and calm, yet stressed.
Glancing down at her clenched left fist, the woman slowly
opened her palm to reveal a crystal shard as dark as night,
its smooth polished sides sparkling as the moonlight danced
across its surface. "The Black Shard of Odan is yours
to protect."
Hadrian stammered, "How did you know…we came
here for you, not the shard." Removing her right hand
from his shoulder, the woman replied, "My time of protecting
the stone is at a pass. The Korgun's poison runs through
my veins." Hadrian could hear her breath beginning
to labor as she continued, "It will now be up to another
to ensure it does not fall into the wrong hands, especially
that of the sorceress."
The woman's reference to Sidria caused Hadrian's eyes to
go wide. "How do you know Sidria?" he asked. The
confusion that swarmed through Hadrian's mind forced him
to release his control of the subdued pain from his injured
ribs, causing him to wince as the stinging pain streaked
across his side and through his chest.
"Much like myself, the sorceress is not from the land.
She is an exile, forced from her home as punishment for
her meddling and wrong doing." Weakened from the poison,
the woman lowered herself to come face to face with the
Halfling. "Sidria Ailema of Quaron has searched long
and hard for a Shard of Odan," the woman continued,
her voice growing soft and weak. "It is the one thing",
she paused, "the only thing, that holds enough power
for her to secure safe passage to her homeland."
Staring at the beautiful shard, the woman continued, "My
name is Aldera Veer. I am one of many unknown protectors…of
the Black Shards of Odan, ordained as such by the Elders…"
she paused, and continued, "The Elders of the Scribal
Council… to protect the shard from those who would
use it for…"
Before Aldera could finish speaking, her weakened body
gave way and she slumped forward, the stone sliding from
her palm as Hadrian struggled through agonizing pain to
keep the woman from falling face first into the ground.
Struggling to maintain consciousness, Aldera grabbed Hadrian's
arm, "My identity was betrayed to the Korgun…
in exchange for the stone. As she spoke, her grip on Hadrian's
arm loosened.
"Take the stone," she said to Hadrian, her voice
no more than a whisper. "Be wary of its power..."
Her voice faded as her eyes slowly closed. The warm aura
that had surrounded the woman slowly faded until Hadrian
could feel nothing but the coolness of the night. The Korgun's
poison had done its deed, and Aldera was no more.
Reaching down Hadrian retrieved the black shard and was
overwhelmed by the surge of energy that flowed from the
shard. He could feel the pain in his ribs subside, as though
the shard itself had healed him. His spirit renewed, he
felt an urgency to run into battle with Valdor. He knew
that with Aldera's passing, the curse that tormented Valdor
would wreak havoc on his companion's mind. Tossing the shard
into one of the pouches on his belt, Hadrian turned to where
Valdor and Te'Goran had been fighting only to realize that
his worst fears had been confirmed.
From a stone's throw away, Hadrian could see the former
assassin swinging wildly at the images of the priest, his
warrior training and skill a distant memory in the muddled
chaos of pain and suffering that had taken control of the
warrior. Hadrian could hear the priest's wicked laugh as
he watched the helpless Valdor struggle to stay on his feet.
To Hadrian's surprise, despite the Mirror Image spell that
Te'Goran had cast, the Halfling could clearly see the true
image of the priest as the magic of the Shard dispelled
the false images from Hadrian's vision.
Stumbling forward, Valdor fell to a knee, his eyes shutting
involuntarily as he fought to get a grasp on the torment
that was taking control of him. Te'Goran watched the helpless
assassin and wondered as to what had had caused the seasoned
warrior to fall into such disarray. Realizing that he was
seconds away from striking down the formidable opponent,
he quickly appreciated whatever ailment had befallen the
warrior as a wicked smile crept across his demonic features.
Tasting victory, Te'Goran grasped the short Elven sword
with both hands and raised the weapon above his head, intending
to drive the small steel weapon through Valdor's debilitated
body.
Fighting through the pain that coursed through his body,
Valdor forced himself up to one knee. The blood that ran
through his veins burned like fire and try as he did, his
limbs would not move any further. Glancing at the ground,
he realized that he no longer held Night's End in his hand
and solemnly accepted what appeared to be his inevitable
fate. Raising his head towards the Korgun, he locked his
gaze onto that of the priest that stood over him.
A surprising cry from behind startled the unexpected Korgun,
alerting him to the presence of the Halfling whom he had
left for dead. Te'Goran and his mirror images turned to
face Hadrian, angered that the Halfling had interrupted
the brief feeling of victory that he had been enjoying.
To his surprise, he discovered a small blue vial soaring
at him from the direction of the small bard. With a second's
notice, the priest fell to the ground, barely moving out
of the way of the projectile as it passed over his head.
Te'Goran couldn't understand how the bard had been able
to single him out from his multiple images and quickly rose
to his feet, convinced that he would not allow the Halfling
to live a second time.
Hadrian could feel his heart racing as though it would
explode within his chest. He realized that with the vial
missing, he would have only one chance at hurling the three-bladed
weapon at the Korgun. He didn't even want to think of what
would happen if he missed, as he was certain that he would
not bode well. As the priest twirled Hadrian's Elven sword
menacingly, he spat at the bard, "This time, you won't
live."
The sound of the Korgun's voice made Hadrian want to run,
but in his heart, he knew there was no escaping tonight.
Either he would defeat the Korgun, or both he and Valdor
would die. Hadrian pushed the thought from his mind and
as the Korgun approached, he hurled the diamond-crusted
weapon with every ounce of strength he could muster. The
weapon glimmered as the diamond crusts caught glimpses of
moonlight and sparkle as it twisted end over end towards
the priest. The brilliant weapon emitted a soft sounding
hum as it sailed past the Korgun, spinning wide and gliding
off into the night. Astounded that the weapon had missed
its target, Te'Goran scoffed at the Halfling's attempts
and let loose a sinister howl of a laugh that sent chills
down Hadrian's spine. The Halfling's body froze as he realized
that soon, he would be passing into the next world. He just
hoped that it quick and painless. With the priest standing
at arm's length from him, Hadrian stared up at the priest's
ominous red eyes, Te'Goran once again smiling down at the
Halfling as he wound the short sword back for a killing
blow.
Hadrian closed his eyes and waited, never again expecting
to see the light of day. As he contemplated what the next
world would bring, his keen ears picked up the whirring
sound of a blade cutting through the air. Hadrian's tiny
frame stiffened in anticipation. A low thud echoed through
the wooded grove and was followed by a gasp for air. Opening
one eye, Hadrian was shocked to see the Korgun priest standing
before him, both hands by his sides, his fingers barely
holding on to the hilt of Hadrian's short sword. With a
gargled Korgun curse, Te'Goran fell to both knees simultaneously,
quickly falling forward onto his chest inches from where
Hadrian stood. With both eyes wide in astonishment, the
bard let out a heavy sigh of relief.
The Korgun's dead body laid still in the suddenly silent
grove. In the center of his back was the weapon Hadrian
had thrown just a few seconds prior, one-third of the deadly
weapon firmly imbedded in the Korgun's spine. Relieved,
and shocked, Hadrian made a mental note to repay the merchant
from Windspear for the weapon. With his eyes locked on the
Korgun's body, Hadrian called out to Valdor, "Val,
it's over, the priest is dead, and so is the woman."
Looking up past the Korgun's body, Hadrian continued, "She
gave me the Sha…" and abruptly came to a halt.
"Val?"
The eyes of the halfling bard welled up as his mind struggled
to accept the scene before him. Blinking away the moisture
that had formed on the edges of his large brown eyes, Hadrian
reached for his companion…
***
…Of solid stone, his flesh became
Faster than a fairy's flutter,
And how it happened was truly a shame,
But it could have happened to any other.
At the statue's feet lay the broken glass
Of a vial peculiar in color,
And before I left I promised my friend,
"I'll find a cure, my brother"
So lift up your mugs and drink to the good life
And give praise to be of flesh and bone,
For in the Highlands, in a land filled with strife
Awaits a man made of rock and stone.
As Hadrian the Wanderer finished tune, he promptly drew
his metal mug to his lips and swallowed a heaving gulp of
ale and foam as the crowd rose to their feet. Applause and
cheering filled the stale, smoky Inn as patron after patron
toasted with another and followed Hadrian's example, some
even tossing coins and small jewels in appreciation for
the entertaining Bard. With a heavy heart, Hadrian climbed
down from his wooden stool and retrieved the crowd's offerings.
In his mind, he thought of his companion and promised once
again, as he had so many times on the long journey back
to Windspear, "I'll find a way Valdor, I promise…Just
rest easy for now, and I will find a cure." Reaching
into one of his small pockets, he retrieved two small gems,
the latest additions to his collection of life crystals.
Twirling the two in the palm of his hand, he noted the stark
contrast between the round and jagged death red crystal
of the Korgun and the smooth, polished facets of Aldera
Veer's green-tinted death crystal. He made a mental note
to destroy the red crystal, perhaps even going so far as
to toss its remains into the Lava Rivers of the far North.
Closing his small fingers over both stones, he was again
reminded of his long-time companion and fought mightily
to hold back his emotions. Ever the entertainer, Hadrian
flashed a half-hearted smile to the onlookers of the Inn,
and with a wave and a bow, continued to collect his earnings.
Through the jubilation that had become a regular occurrence
at the Red Gryphon Inn, Windspear locals and travelers sang,
danced and drank into the early hours of morning. All except
one. Through the shadows of the dark hood that hung low
over his concealed face, his yellow-slit eyes bore into
the unsuspecting bard, watching his every move and waiting
for the right moment to reveal himself. "Soon,"
he thought, "very soon". As his forked tongue
flickered out across his scaly thin lips, he swore in the
native, slithery dialect of the Darconite, "The soulstone
thief shall meet a fitting end. The lifeline of my brethren
will be renewed and honor will be restored."
The End
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