the protection of Taslin's spell, the wight would have slain him within heartbeats.
As it lunged, Twilight managed to parry the creature to the left and then riposte, carving a hole in its face. As the wight scrabbled away, screaming in fury and frustration, Twilight snatched the opportunity to glance at the others.
The tight circle of adventurers made up the center of a hive of clawing wights. Stacked two or three deep, the horrid creatures gouged and slashed from every angle, swarming the living beings with a violence born of incomprehensible hatred. Gargan's axe and Taslin's magic provided stout defense, but the goliath's swings came a little slower each time as the wights stole away his life little by little. Though his stoic face would never show it, Gargan was growing weary.
In the end, only Davoren kept the wights at bay, each of his blasts striking two or three monsters, pushing them back. And the warlock showed no signs of tiring. As long as the others could keep the circle around him, he could keep blasting.
Not counting the creature that Twilight dueled, only three of the wights stayed out of the battle. Two of them spat words of magic, and the other lay probing at its torn throat from Twilight's attack. The casters had focused on the circle of adventurers, but with so many fellows in the way, the two mage-wights turned on Twilight and Liet.
'Just my luck,' Twilight muttered as she leaped back to avoid sweeping claws. 'Thanks be to the Maid.' Her riposte ran the creature through.
The monster clawed at her, not hesitating at the pain, but Twilight expected this. Instead of dodging back, she dived around the wight, dragging the sword with all her momentum and strength. The rapier was not made for cutting, but its magically hot blade could certainly stir up the inside of the creature. With a sickly plop, the wight's rotten lungs and heart came out with the sword, and its entrails slithered out onto the floor.
Though none of the wights died from blows that would have felled a man, Twilight hoped this one would have trouble fighting in so many pieces. When she pulled free, splashed with putrid blood, Twilight locked eyes with a casting wight. She had no hope of dodging more mystical darts.
But then Liet was there, shouting to distract the wight, thrusting his recovered sword in the way. Surprisingly, the creature flinched and recoiled, abandoning its spell.
Never one to pass up an opportunity, Twilight danced into the shadows. Darkness flickered across her pale eyes. In a heartbeat, she vanished, only to appear behind the mage-wight. She ran her rapier through its jaws.
Let it cast without a mouth, she decided.
The adventurers had almost turned the tide. They could not have destroyed so many wights by strength alone, but Taslin's priestly powers, exhausted as they almost were, had taken their toll, and Davoren's fire laid the wights to waste. The wights were slowly falling away, most to lie unmoving on the floor.
Twilight even saw Slip doing her part, with just her little mace. A wight leaped on her, but she clubbed at it madly, taking out groin, fingers, and eye in quick succession. Twilight saw the wight she'd injured rushing at the distracted halfling, though, and angled a charge to intercept.
In her rush, Twilight stared down the wight-fresher than its fellows-and she skidded to a halt. 'A-Aran…' she stammered, frozen.
It gave her a wicked, mad smile and hacked at Slip with a blood-smeared axe Twilight recognized all too well.
'Dav-rin!' it hissed. 'Dav-rin!'
The halfling managed to elude the blow, but the wight ran right over her. Slip cried out and hit the ground. The creature lunged in, smashing Davoren to the floor. The warlock's aim faltered and ruby energy burned a trail along the floor. He turned to face his former companion, now his attacker, and earned a trio of black gashes across the face. Davoren could do little more than sputter and curse as the wight pummeled him into the floor. If the deathly touch ate away his life-force, he made no sign, but blood sprayed.
'No!' Twilight shouted.
With the warlock down, the rest of the wights redoubled their efforts, battering at the defensive ring of adventurers like an angry sea against a fortress sculpted of sand. Without Davoren's eldritch might to bolster them, the weakening warriors would fall.
Twilight stared. The others were fully occupied with their struggles-none could save the warlock, if any had the motivation-and yet she stood frozen. She stared at the wight who would destroy them-that familiar auburn hair, that smeared axe…
The other mage-wight, having apparently exhausted its spells, chose that moment to rush her. Liet jumped in the way, slashing at the beast, but it elbowed him aside, bearing down on its chosen foe.
Only instinct saved her. Twilight met the wight with a high stop thrust-a defensive stab the creature slapped aside. She danced back, weaving, parrying its dagger-sharp claws. She didn't care if it beat her defense. Without Davoren's magic, they were dead anyway.
And Arandon…
Taslin knew they were lost. Her powers faded, and without the warlock, no matter how dangerous he was, they had no chance. They had been fools to follow Twilight's lead-they believed such a child could keep them safe?
Then Taslin heard a wheeze, and she knew what was happening. Asson-her weak Asson, though he had no spells or even a decent weapon-would save them. Perhaps he recognized the threat to them all if Davoren did not rise, perhaps it was instinct, or perhaps he felt compassion for the warlock.
Whatever the reason, the wizened mage took his staff in both hands. He smashed the glowing crystal into the wight's head as hard as his aged muscles could drive it. The hard oak did little damage, but the magelight seared the creature's eyes. The wight flinched back from its battered prey and Taslin's heart leaped.
It lunged for Asson instead, jabbing dagger claws deep into his belly. With a sputter, the old mage crumpled, and so did Taslin's heart. Corellon's aura might keep his soul, but his body could die just as easily as any man's. She watched, horrified, as the wight closed it jaws on his ankle, and he screamed.
'Asson!' screamed Taslin. She tried to summon up Corellon's power to smite the beast, but she felt not even a tingle. She had exhausted it all.
Then the mighty Gargan spun and hacked at the wight, yanking its shattered head from its withered body. Wights piled onto his back, clawing and scrabbling. Taslin couldn't reach Asson, so she plied her sword, trying to hack the beasts off the goliath.
The warlock rose shakily to his knees. Blood smeared his neat goatee, but the hate burning in his eyes did not allow him to look weakened. Davoren roared and flung his arms out wide.
A curtain of red and black flames screamed into being around the group, slicing open wights like a burning blade. Creatures fell in pieces and chunks, the ends of limbs cauterized black from dried blood. The ruby light burst in the darkness like an angry star, almost blinding Taslin. She looked at Davoren and saw his ruby eyes gleaming madly, caged in furrows of black blood. He laughed, hysterical. The wights screamed, burning.
The priestess could not tear her gaze away. Which was the real threat?
Blinking to clear the spots from her bleary eyes, Twilight missed a parry. The wight caught the blade over its arm, threw the rapier wide, and lunged for her throat.
Then a blade burst from the wight's chest, and the creature froze. Not knowing the source of her luck but not questioning it either, Twilight took a single step back, put her sword in line, and rammed it through the creature's heart and back out in one movement. Its chest seeping, the wight toppled, revealing Liet, smeared with its yellow fluid, panting.
She looked at her bloody blade. Davoren's fire died down and burned out. That ring of fire could have been used to save them before they'd even come to this place. All of them.
The band of seven coughed and wheezed in the dusty silence
Taslin was the first to break the quiet. 'Asson!' she cried, falling to her knees beside the battered old man.
