The blue portal hissed and shook as five by five the people fled through.
“Do not panic, and do not stop!” Antonil shouted as he rode his horse down the long line of frantic refugees. “As long as you hold breath make for the portal!” He circled the greater mass of people at the bottom of the hill eager to join the line, again shouting his command. The soldiers flanking drew their swords and saluted, and the sign of formality and duty soothed those climbing toward the swirling blue magic.
Beyond the last few families and peasants, the Eschaton stood in a long line. They stared east with baited breaths. Deathmask’s crew intermixed with them, magic sparking on their fingertips. They were eight in all, the first and strongest line of defense against the coming demons.
“Use everything you’ve got to get their attention,” Tarlak said as the sky swarmed with dull red armor and beating wings. “Keep them on us as long as you can. With each volley, take a few steps back.”
“As you wish, master wizard,” Deathmask said, ash hovering so thick before his face his features were all but gone. “And no one be a fool. When the battle is lost, make for the portal. Dying here means nothing.”
“Such elegant words,” Harruq muttered.
“I don’t exactly feel like dying here either,” Aurelia said, but her voice was distracted. She was trying to estimate the number of soldiers that approached. By her guess, each banner that flew represented a unit of fifty, and she counted nine banners. She winced.
“Daggerwork may not be enough,” Mier said.
“We need more than daggers,” Nien said.
Veliana drew her own, kissed the blades, and stared at the sky with her lone eye. “Their armor is thick, but daggers will do just fine,” she said.
The twins chuckled at her but said nothing.
“They’re almost here,” Harruq said. He could see the giant red wings, the crimson armor, and the wicked weapons hanging from their belts. Silhouetted by a blackened sky, they seemed a demonic army indeed.
“Let’s give them a good welcome, shall we?” Tarlak said before beginning his spellcasting. Deathmask and Aurelia joined him, choosing their largest and flashiest spells. A ball of fire shot from Tarlak’s hands, smoke trailing behind it. When it struck the first soldier it detonated, consuming more than twenty in fire. Aurelia’s spell was a great barrage of ice lances. Forced to evade, the demons broke their perfect ranks as ten of their own plummeted to the ground. Deathmask’s was the worst. In the center of their ranks a small ball of shadow appeared unseen. At his command, it exploded, filling the sky with thousands of black-tipped arrows. Most bounced off the armor the demons wore, but their wings carried no such protection. Deathmask laughed as he saw more than fifty drop to their deaths.
“You need to teach me that spell,” Tarlak said with a whistle.
“You would not want to learn,” Deathmask said. “Not while the golden mountain hangs from your neck.”
“Damn,” Tarlak said. “That’s a shame.”
So instead he prepared a second fireball as a great swarm of metal descended.
U lamn hovered high in the sky, a banner carrier holding flight beside him. The general swore as he saw the spells decimate his army. He had expected a ragtag band of survivors for him to slaughter, but powerful spellcasters? Even worse, he saw the swirling blue portal atop the hill the mass climbed. But Ulamn had conquered many worlds, and fought with spellcasters greater than those arrayed against him.
“Send a single unit after the casters,” he ordered. “Have the rest assault those atop the hill. I want that portal closed.”
Two demons beside him tucked their wings and dove, screaming out their general’s orders. The army split in two, each curling around the initial defense line and hooking back to the hill. Antonil’s men raised their shields and shouted. Their time to fight had come.
D amn it, they’re not taking the bait,” Tarlak shouted as he blasted several demons with lightning as they passed.
“Make for the top,” Haern said. He turned to Harruq and motioned for him to follow.
“But Aurelia needs me,” the half-orc protested.
“Now!” Haern shouted. He leapt more than twenty feet into the air, his sabers drawn. The few demons foolish enough to fly near screamed as their throats were cut and their wings severed. Harruq snarled and gave chase, running outside the line of Antonil’s men to avoid the throng of refugees.
“Eyes ahead,” Veliana said, twirling her daggers.
A unit of fifty dove for the line, their ranks spread wide to lessen the damage of magical attacks. Lightning and ice struck down several, but then they closed the gap. Mier and Nien let loose their daggers, hurling four at a time into the air. The blades shimmered purple with magic. Those that tried streaking straight at Tarlak veered off, unable to withstand the barrage. Veliana crouched before Deathmask, ready to defend. Deathmask curled his hand, sapping the strength from the first to near. The demon struck the dirt ten feet before him, his wings unable to keep him afloat.
“Get down,” Veliana said as two more arced close and swung their long glaives. Veliana jumped into the air, her legs tucked against her chest. As she fell backward her daggers lashed out, perfectly timed. The long blades cut beneath her, her twisted body slipping in between the wooden shafts. Her left dagger cut straight through one’s neck, spewing blood. Her right severed tendons, and unable to bear the pain the demon dropped his glaive and ascended.
“Mere distractions,” Deathmask said as he stood, hurling small bolts of fire to keep away a few circling demons. “They will kill Mira while we play.”
Aurelia had no protector, so she relied on her own magical strength. As the demons came whirling in she tore the dirt from the ground and hurled it high. The demons bounced and slammed through the boulders. Many fell unconscious while others veered away from the dangerous trap.
“Make for the portal,” the elf shouted.
She hurled the boulders, crushing a few remaining demons that circled above them. Turning about she saw the true battle raging. The shouts of dying and panicked rolled down the hill. The elf closed her eyes, her mind focused on Mira at the top. She felt her body shiver, and when she opened her eyes she stood beside the girl, the tempest wind blowing her hair and dress.
“By Ashhur’s girdle, get down elf!” Jerico shouted behind her. She obeyed without thought. The paladin rushed past her, his shield high. Steel collided as a war demon struck where she had been. The demon hollered as holy light leapt up his weapon and into the scarred flesh of his hands. Jerico pushed aside the sword with his shield, raised Bonebreaker, and struck. The demon dropped, his skull shattered.
“Nice of you to join us,” Lathaar said as he slammed his swords together. All about demons winced and averted their eyes.
In the brief reprieve Aurelia looked down the hill, studying the fight. Demons had slammed into the shield walls on either side of the refugees, using brute strength and size to push their way through. Antonil’s men had held firm, however, and men of valor fought against the crimson armored demons. Lining the ground on either side were scattered corpses of demons. She saw more than fifty, a true tribute to Antonil’s training. The king rode along the west side, his sword held high.
“Hold firm,” he shouted. “Hold fast, hold firm, and make for the portal!”
The people of Neldar did as commanded, and five by five they stepped into the blue and were gone.
“Behind us,” Lathaar said. Jerico turned, chuckling at the sight. Four demons flew close together, their swords stretched before them. They were planning on ramming the paladins with their speed and weight to knock them aside.
“You’d think they’d have learned by now,” Jerico said. He stood before Mira, his shield high. Singing a song to Ashhur, Jerico braced his legs. A glowing image of his shield leapt into the air, ten times the original size. The demons collided with the image as if they hit stone. Bones broken, they collapsed. Lathaar circled Mira, his swords whirling in a blinding blur of a white. Both were Elholads, and in the paladin’s hands they weighed nothing and cut everything. Broken weapons littered the ground, along with severed limbs and pieces of armor.
Still the swarm increased. A wave of twenty banked from the sky straight for Mira. Lathaar stood before them, his weapons crossed. Jerico knelt behind Mira, catching his breath. He knew the demons Lathaar did not kill would try to circle back around. Aurelia tossed lances of ice, softening the wave for Lathaar.
“Hold me fast Ashhur,” he prayed. “And your will be done.”
He stood firm, a tribute to heroic paladins of old. His twin Elholads slashed and cut. The demons’ armor
