essence, and a blue-white mist began to leak between the fringes of its armor.
The construct shuddered but did not slow. It swung down one rusty fist with not-so-rusty speed, which Twilight narrowly dodged. She danced back, keeping impeccable balance, until Liet sent her stumbling as he charged at the horror.
'Fool!' Twilight cursed in anger and fear.
Liet might have replied, but Twilight saw energy crackling around the horror and her eyes went wide. She hissed, and Liet dived just below a swath of flame that sliced the air overhead, erupting from its breastplate. She dodged, but just barely.
'Davoren!' Twilight shouted, gritting her teeth against the pain and the heat.
The warlock didn't need to be told twice. Crimson power erupted from his hands and dark tendrils appeared from the ground, surrounding the helmed horror, enwrapping and entangling it. The creature swung its deadly, flaming blade at Twilight and Liet, but it could not reach them-its sword cut just a hair too short. Twilight flinched away, putting as much distance between herself and that burning steel as she could, and the flames kissed her cheeks. As she did, she caught a glimpse of Gargan and his foe, and that stunned her.
The goliath faced his opponent in a sword duel that rivaled a tropical storm at sea. Swords flew and spun, cutting like scythes caught in a whirlwind.
The horror might have spent centuries moldering and rusting, but it moved as though it had been built a tenday past-like the deadly weapon it was meant to be. Its attacks left and right, up and down, flowed through continuous motion as though launched by an elf duelist with a mithral saber, rather than a suit of armor with an iron greatsword. All the while, the horror itself was the picture of mechanical calm, simply fulfilling its appointed task.
Its unruffled exterior, however, made for a poor reflection of Gargan. While many swordsmen fought with their muscles, backing fierce blows and counterstrokes with hot fury, and those trained in the fencing arts like Twilight fought with their heads, knowing every strategic attack, parry, and riposte through long practice, this was something far different. Gargan fought not by heart or mind, but by spirit.
Gargan's face was serenity itself, and no rage burned beneath its surface. The blade in his hand danced seemingly of its own accord, turning away strikes Twilight barely saw coming. The goliath never batted an eye as he parried steel a finger's breadth from his nose. He slapped the sword wide, reversed his grip as though spinning a baton, and slashed back in underhanded, tearing a burning gash across the creature's helm. The blade's acid took its toll upon the thing, impeding its flexibility and movements.
Davoren bellowed with fiendish laughter and threw blast after blast at the horror. Taslin summoned Corellon's power to melt away its armor, piece by piece. All the while, it slashed at Twilight and Liet, where they cowered, with the determination only the dead and the mindless possess.
'Corellon!' Taslin cried, throwing her melted sword-and-symbol skyward, where it stopped and hovered in the air just out of reach. White fire crackled around it, and the blade blazed suddenly whole. Twilight thought she saw something skitter out of the way above, but it fled her mind when she had to turn away to keep from being blinded.
A column of divine flame tore down through the ceiling, engulfing the monstrosity. The Lord of the Seldarine's wrath tore through the suit of armor with its flaming sword. A biting squeal of metal rose over the roar of the inferno. The smoking horror gave a disappointed hiss and crumbled to the floor, inert and useless. Its form fell with a solid thump, fused by the extreme heat of Taslin's spell.
A heartbeat later, Gargan slashed and ripped his foe to scrap. The horror gave a pitiful hiss as the goliath spun with his final backhand and lightly tapped the sword point to the floor. Behind him, it clattered into a pile of half-dissolved rubbish.
'Well,' breathed Twilight.
'What a deep thought,' Liet said with a grin.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
'So…' Slip said in the resulting silence. Her demeanor could not have been more tranquil. If a battle had been fought, she seemed not to have noticed.
Liet decided to bite. 'Aye?'
'So we all came from different places!' exclaimed Slip. 'Through different portals!' Apparently, she truly hadn't noticed.
'Remarkable concentration,' scoffed Davoren.
'Belt up, and give the little one a chance,' Taslin shot back.
Slip continued undaunted. 'Thus… thus!'
Liet thought the brainless halfling should get a third chance. 'Thus?' he prodded.
'We all have different dirt upon our boots!' the halfling said excitedly.
The others rolled their eyes and Liet sighed. Twilight gestured to the floor.
Slip looked down at her bare feet. 'Oh.'
'You twit,' growled the warlock. 'It means we have come to this foul place by means of twisted Art. Someone is interfering with our portals, likely.' His eyes fell on Twilight venomously. 'I recall that the leader of my band led us through just such a conveying path, without regard to the consequences, of course.'
Liet looked at Twilight as well, but the elf's face was blank. Her eyes, though, shifted back and forth uneasily. That struck Liet as odd. He felt perfectly calm, the thrill of combat fled. Hadn't the battle ended?
'So some force has drawn us here,' said Taslin, standing amongst the group, 'bringing us through various portals, all to the same place. The question is why.'
Gargan said something then, in his strange goliath tongue. Deep and rough, yet noble. He had no idea what the words meant, but he could see the impact they left on Taslin, who could understand somehow, and Twilight, who seemed to have a sense of such things.
'You did not come through a portal,' Twilight said softly.
'Eh? Wait a breath-' Slip started.
Gargan said something, and Taslin nodded her head.
'It seems he came upon a cavern while hunting a troll that had been spotted in the area,' she said. 'He followed the beast in and-'
'And there must be more of them,' said Twilight.
'Why must-?' Liet asked. He was so confused.
'Goliaths are social creatures, even more so than humans,' she said. She looked at Gargan sharply. 'Where are the other goliaths?'
It took Gargan a breath to understand her question. He shook his head and spoke.
'He is an exile from his people,' said Taslin. 'Called… hmm. The closest word in the Common tongue is 'dispossessed.' '
Gargan nodded. 'Dispossessed,' he repeated.
'I see,' Twilight said. 'Second time I've heard such a name. The first wasn't so pleasant, as I recall.'
Liet looked at her, expecting more, but she left it at that. He wondered if that was true-and what it all meant. She resumed pacing about the room.
Gargan continued speaking to Taslin, who translated for the others. Liet assumed it was magic of some kind. 'The troll he was tracking-Tlork-ambushed him in the cave, and they fought. Blackwyrm, his acid-weeping sword-the one he carries now-was key, but the creature defeated him. When he awakened, he was in the dark cell.'
'This begins to make sense,' Twilight said. 'The master of these depths-'
'The Mad Sharn,' hissed Davoren.
'We don't know that for sure,' said Twilight. 'This labyrinth…'
'Whatever he calls it,' Slip said. 'Midden's more like it. A foul pit!'
Gargan eyed her curiously, but Twilight didn't know why. 'It's not so foul, as dungeons go,' the shadowdancer said. 'I've seen-'
'Stranger?' filled in Liet.
