came in late, and the swirling light buried deep into his chest before tearing out the side. A tiny bit of blood leaked to the mud, accompanied by puss and rot. The undead hulk did not relent. Karnryk gurgled something unintelligible and then roared his rage. Their swords clashed as Harruq and Tarlak watched transfixed.
“Should he fall, take up the attack,” Tarlak said, the fire of a spell still surrounding his hands. Harruq nodded, waiting for an opening. It appeared he would get none. Lathaar’s strokes never slowed, and his skill surpassed Karnryk’s. More and more flesh hacked away, including a sizable chunk of the sword arm’s elbow. Again, the paladin outstretched his hand and attempted to banish him.
“Be gone from our land!” he cried. Karnryk roared, pain intolerable swarming throughout his mind. Momentarily stunned, he was helpless before the shining white blade that thrust for his head.
The sword struck a wall of pure darkness, accompanied by the sound of steel scraping against stone. Lathaar pulled back, and the others grimaced or swore in fear. Tessanna approached, her hands covered with shadow and her eyes pits of black. Her dress flapped in the wind, her hair clung to her face, and in the dim light she seemed a demoness.
“Oh shit,” Tarlak murmured, abandoning his spell and instead preparing a magical shield.
“No kidding,” Harruq grumbled, charging the girl as several bolts of shadow flew their way.
T he door crept open with the tiniest of creeks. Although a fierce storm raged outside, calm star-lit sky graced within. A few docile clouds floated across, childlike compared to those that unleashed rain and thunder. The grass was soft against his skin, the wind cool and soothing. Atop her bed, Aullienna squirmed. It seemed even her dreams were speckled with warning.
Qurrah grabbed his tome, his hands covered with sweat. His heart hammered in his ears, yet he could not deny the excitement that flooded his body. For good or ill, he was going to do this. Step after step he took, winding his way up to where the girl slept. The branches creaked. A few leaves rustled. Aullienna startled, and she awoke to see Qurrah standing over her, a smile on his face and a book in his hands.
“Uncle?” she asked, rubbing her eyes. Most would have found it cute, even adorable. Qurrah barely noticed.
“I’m here to read you a bedtime story,” the half-orc said.
“Where’s mommy?” she asked, turning in bed to look at the dark doorway leading to where Harruq and Aurelia’s bed was.
“They are sleeping,” Qurrah said. “As should you be. I know your dreams are troubled. Just listen, and I’ll send all your fears away.”
“I want mommy,” she said, shrinking back from his smile. One of her dreams had been of a bear chasing after her, its mouth dripping with honey. Somehow that bear’s smile seemed kinder than Qurrah’s.
“But mommy’s asleep right now,” he said, placing thick wads of wax in his ears. “Lay your head down, child.”
She did as she was told. Qurrah opened up his tome, marked by a dried leaf to the page where Tessanna had discovered her incantation. His ears blocked, he read aloud the words to break the little girl’s mind.
T his way,” the man in golden armor said, twenty men behind him. They were all well equipped. Their armor shone in the light of torches, their shields polished and smooth. Their leader carried the standard of Neldar on his shield, and his blade was the finest of the city’s smiths. Beside him hurried a priest of Ashhur, his white robes tarnished by rain and mud.
“Do you think they will come, Antonil?” the priest asked, holding a hand up to block the rain.
“Do or don’t, we have to find that thing and finish it,” the Guard Captain shouted back. “And no devilstorm will provide me excuse should any more die. Can you sense where it went?”
The priest shook his head, his mouth open and gasping for air. “I lost it when he knocked me…hold here. I believe I sense it.”
The soldiers waited impatiently as the priest closed his eyes and concentrated. A moment later, the man jerked open his eyes and staggered back as if struck.
“Did you find it?” Antonil asked.
“I…I don’t know,” the man said. “But I found something.” He pointed down a street to their right. “That way. Hurry, and may Ashhur help us all.”
They hurried ahead, the squad a fourth of the size it had been a mere hour ago. The undead creature had torn through their ranks, at least sixty were dead by Antonil’s count, and he would allow no more. They passed by small homes and closed stores. The normal business of the night had halted. Only killing went unabated. The priest gave directions, which they followed without hesitation.
“When you see the creature, charge at once,” Antonil shouted back to his men. “We must overwhelm it with numbers, it is our only…”
“Ashhur be with us,” the priest said, drawing the Guard Captain’s attention back to the front. He halted, his mouth agape. The Eschaton Mercenaries had come, and his heart was thankful, but the battle raging before his eyes defied reason.
A paladin of Ashhur dueled their undead target, matching it blow for blow with his glowing blade. Beside the monster was a girl. Her eyes were dark and her hair wet and clinging to her skin. Magic seemed to explode out of her. A wizard, presumably Tarlak due to the abundance of yellow, did his best to counter and protect against her attacks, but he was sorely pressed. Two others knelt by a house, one a priestess of Ashhur, the other…
“Haern?” Antonil wondered. A bellowing war cry turned his attention to a raging half-orc that seemed incredibly familiar. The half-orc charged the goddess, accepting blows of darkness against his flesh to cross the distance.
“All those with blades, take the creature,” Antonil ordered. “Aion, help against the girl.”
“I will do my best,” the priest said, rushing to the wizard’s side. With a communal cry, the guards of Veldaren charged Karnryk, their blades held high.
Y ou will not interfere,” Tessanna shrieked, great spears of shadow leaping from her fingers. Harruq twisted and dodged, but several scraped against his skin as they passed. One wicked spear slashed the side of his cheek, smearing his face with water and blood. He grimaced, swearing to repay her. Not just for the wound. For everything.
“You interfered plenty,” Harruq said, jumping over a wall of fire she had summoned and then smashing his blades against her neck. Despite the powerful magic in his swords, she only laughed and accepted the hit. Her legs buckled, but the swords did not pierce flesh. The half-orc shouted out his rage. “You ruined Qurrah! You thrust him into the abyss, you whore!”
“Ruined?” the girl said, the scars on her arms flaring a dull crimson. “Ruined?” She slapped the swords aside and shoved her hands against Harruq’s chest. Fire exploded about the armor, the force of it flinging him through the air. He smacked into a house, hitting his head hard. Of course, that wasn’t the only hit. The fall to the ground jarred his legs and caused him to bite down on his tongue. Harruq spat blood and glared death at the girl.
“Yeah, ruined!” he cried. A bolt of ice courtesy of Tarlak punctuated his accusation. It struck Tessanna square in the chest, covering her body. The chill in her blood grew worse. Black tendrils danced off her fingers, sweeping aside the next two bolts of ice along with a bolt of fire. They attacked the mage, piercing through his magical warding.
“Not good,” the wizard mumbled. His heart ached, he looked to his sister, and then the tendrils hit his flesh. They sizzled and recoiled like a scared viper. Stunned to be alive, the wizard glanced down at his unharmed self, and then to the side, where a priest of Ashhur had joined him.
“Focus on protection,” Aion said before casting another spell. A translucent shield appeared between the two casters and Tessanna. Tarlak formed another of his own, doubling the strength.
“Can the half-orc take her if we provide distraction?” Aion asked.
“Ashhur knows,” was the wizard’s reply.
But her attention was not on them, not then.
“I did not ruin him,” she spat to Harruq. “I helped him. I loved him. I love him every night, and it makes him happier.” She cast a weakening spell on Harruq, sapping the strength from his muscles. The half-orc felt his energy leaving and fought it how he knew best: pure rage. With a roar, he cast off the curse as if it were a chain about his body. Tarlak fired another bolt of fire, giving Harruq time to cross the distance as she summoned her shield to block the spell.
“He’s not happy!” Harruq shouted, shoving Condemnation straight for her mouth. The girl ducked, firing a
