“Impressive sport though. I had thought one of you would have fallen by now,” said the dead lord with a trace of sarcasm.
“You’re nothing without your stinking magic, braggart. I could smell the foulness of your aroma from here. Smells like the cowardly dung of a donkey’s fodder twice eaten and twice shat into a pigsty,” said Tyndur.
At Tyndur’s statement, Bjarte stopped his advance on Kobu and Tyler. He carefully looked at the einherjar. The mage could see the nimbus surrounding the dead lord roil and churn busily, and then finally spun around the figure, its speed picking up as it continued its circuit.
“You.” Bjarte’s voice was cold. “I swore I would feed your balls to you as you watched.”
Fuck. This is not going to end well!
“Is it nearly done? We’re going to have our eggs scrambled out here! inwardly screamed the mage as he let loose the strongest lightning bolt he could manage at Bjarte’s head. All it did was leave a black mark on the intangible barrier, a large blemish that disappeared after a few seconds. Bjarte was slightly rocked by the furious attack.
He glanced at Tyler.
“Wait your turn.”
“Come on, tiny balls! You spineless excuse for an offspring of an ugly jotunn and an undersized dokkalfr. You want some of this?” shouted Tyndur. “Come and get some! Buttery balls!”
Even the mage was astonished by the einherjar’s language, until he realized Tyndur was giving him more time and Kobu a chance to attack. As Bjarte walked toward Tyndur, he abruptly stopped and gave a soundless scream toward the heavens. A bright light erupted from inside his body, burning away his form and the ghastly nimbus encircling him. Then he was gone, though a small pile of ash remained on the stone floor with the mage’s staff on top. A stiff night breeze suddenly blew through the parapet, scattering the dead lord’s residue to the wind.
Tyler immediately stood up and stared at the moons and stars of Adar. The hazy mist shrouding the clear night sky was gone, as if done away with at the flick of a finger. The deafening roar resounding from the ramparts told him the siege was over. In the distance, he saw a bright speck of light fly toward the heavens.
Flashy bastard, thought the mage.
The companions rushed to the crenellations. But Kobu made a point of stopping where Bjarte spectacularly dissolved. He glanced at the watching mage.
“Making sure that cursed sword is also gone. Such things are not for mortal men. I could sense the corruption within it,” the exile explained with a wry grin.
Tyler stood where he was, trying to calm himself down. He couldn’t believe what a near thing the entire episode was. A few more seconds and a second dead companion would have been on his conscience. After a quick healing spell on himself, the mage walked to where Bjarte had fallen and retrieved his staff. The companions were busy watching the joyful reaction of the defenders.
“Thanks, guys,” he told his guides when he returned to the open archway leading down the parapet. The thunderous victory shouts were still continuing. He sat on a stair, his back to the wall. The mage could feel his adrenaline going down.
“You’re welcome, sire. But lest you forget, our existence also depends on your survival,” Hal reminded him laconically.
“That too,” laughed Tyler. “But even so, my gratitude and appreciation for a job well done.”
“We did notice a welcome side effect of your energy. Thankfully it was enough, though because of the limited quantity, it took some time to destroy the core of the target spell. It was, as suspected, a remarkably complex matrix,” said X.
“Side effect?” reacted the mage quickly but then relaxed. My nerves are tightly wound as a freaking fisherman’s knot. X did say a welcome effect.
“The Elder energy produced was bonded to the natural magic of this world. As it dissolved the ancient spell, the result of our experiment also rapidly returned to the ether, spreading the dissolution effect. Elder energy takes a lot more time to decay and return to its original state. Sometimes, it just vanishes. You’ll find the undead plague is gone throughout the realms or will be gone in a day or two. But in this area, we doubt if a ghoul could be found for miles around,” Hal explained at length.
“That’s good! At least we don’t need to go around shutting off animating spells. Not to mention undergoing that harrowing and debilitating process over and over again.”
Tyler’s discussion with his guides was interrupted by the clatter of armor rushing up the stairwell. He stood up. It was the jarl and the two dwarves. The bodyguards stayed several feet behind, though the mage could see them.
Seeing him, the young jarl threw out his hands and embraced him.
“My thanks, High Mage! Thank you!” It was all the jarl could say.
Tyler moved back to the parapet to give the others room. As soon as the two dwarves stood on the platform, they went to him and simultaneously slapped him on the shoulders, one from each dwarf. It was a painful experience. His muscles were still sore. But the mage forced a grin.
“Good job, High Mage! I knew you could handle it!” cried out Dvalin.
“Of course, he could handle it! That’s what High Mages do! What they’re for! Unless, of course, they die in the attempt! Remember the tale of the last dwarven High Mage, Old Afrigg? Now that’s bravery!” added Otr whose vote of confidence confused the mage.
“Yes. An old mage senile enough to try to drive a huge colony of drakes from their roost. Only, he didn’t count on the two wyrms living
