Be Careful What You Wish For (Nalifan)

[Dalton]

I have repeatedly said this that I hate catching up to the end of a story in progress please for the love of any gods that you worship UPDATE!

Asshole, don't bump a thread and demand an update. You necro again and you will regret it.

[ziasyn]

Halfway down the first page is hardly a dead thread it's not like I dug around the crypts of page 10 I'm sorry if I seemed demanding

[Imperial Overlord]

Days before the ground had been frozen hard during the cold biting nights and gradually warmed under the weak winter son during the day, only to freeze again during the night. But that was days ago. Winter was losing its grip on the land. The ground didn't quite freeze, even in the dead of night.

The Twelve Tribes, or rather the Eleven, trampled the earth beneath their hooves as they and their herds passed over. They camped and pitched their tents and yurts, as was their habit. Then they left, pressing on further northwards to the banks of the Serpent and to new lands to raze. Night fell again after their departure.

A bony claw pushed its way out of the ground, pale under the light of cold and distant stars. A ragged, dirty form in filthy furs emerged from the ground in which it had been interred. A gaunt face turned empty eye sockets towards the endless sea of campfires blazing by the river bank. Those were not its prey, but they did mark the location of its prey. Cold, dead hands flexed. Blightmaker took long strides forward in order to enact its maker's will.

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"By the Father's cock, there's a lot of them," Sargard swore. His retainers paid the blasphemy no attention. The Serpent was swelling with melt water and so it was faster, colder, and wider than usual and today Sargard was very grateful for that. He wanted as much wild water between him and the horde of horsemen arrayed on the other side of the river as possible.

"Those are merely a fraction of their numbers," said one of his knights. "The bulk of the horde is behind them."

"By the Three," murmured Valco. Serrin grew paler.

"I have only one use for a bunch of women," said Sargard coldly, "so find your manhood or leave me."

"In fact," said the knight, "why don't you leave us?" Sargard's coterie began to disperse, turning their horses away and riding back towards the bulk of the knights. Sargard's gaze rested on the knight and narrowed. He didn't recognize the armour.

"Who are you to give my men orders?"

The knight flipped open his visor. "Don't you recognize me, your highness?"

"You! But I thought-"

"Never mind what you thought. This battle is important, yes? Among other things, I really need you to get through it alive. I'm here to make sure that everything goes at it should. You live, others die, and that the Khaduli come through it bleeding from their eyes and assholes."

Sargard nodded and then his eyes narrowed. "Nalifan?"

"He's got the Khaduli to distract him. As long as I don't draw any undue attention, everything will be fine."

"No," said Sargard, "I mean will he die?"

"Hopefully not until he's inflicted tremendous damage. The Khaduli are damned strong, there's a lot of them, and they do have a rather unpleasant god holding their hands. And that's before we start talking about their cannibal witches or their head wizard or their King of Tribes. It would be most convenient if Nalifan fell after he finished reducing them to a more manageable group. I'm not omnipotent you know. If I was, I wouldn't need to cut deals with you."

"What if he wins?"

The knight threw back his head and laughed. "Win? Against them? Don't be silly. Alright, it's just possible that he can do it. Just. The smallest of chances. It won't do him any good because, by that time, you'll be ruling in both name and fact. Another reason I'm here. To make sure things go as we've agreed and I've promised. He'll be your slave. Or dead. Whatever."

"Alright," said Sargard, "what now?"

"Now we watch the river recede?"

"What?!"

"You heard me right. Look. It's already dropped two feet from the bank."

"How?"

"I imagine the Khaduli dammed it up stream. Several powerful sorcerers could easily manage it with enough earth magic. It won't be long now before there's nothing but damp river bed between us and them. In hindsight, really a good choice. This allows them to come across over an area of miles and really use their numerical and maneuver advantages. A good choice. I was expecting them to go with freezing the river, a classic, but that is a little to obvious and easily countered. Better move back, your highness. I have too much invested in you to want to lose you to a stray arrow and the air's going to be thick with them shortly."

[LadyTevar]

Squeee! More Nalifan!

Hmm.. so the devil makes his appearence. Time to see how far he'll go to protect his deal with the Prince.

[Lerryn]

Yay for more! Also, Blightmaker! Definitely want to see what it does, perhaps to the Khaduli horses? (I rather like the idea of them forced to fight on foot, which would mess with most of their tactics.)

Something I wonder about: how much does Mr. Devil know about what Nalifan has planned? My guess would be somewhat more than we've seen, but not all of it.

A nitpick:
"I imagine the Khaduli damned it up stream." I would think that should be 'dammed', unless the method of damming the river was nastier than I want to think about... Which, knowing the Khaduli, it just might have been.

And another:
"As long as I don't draw any undo attention" I think that should be 'undue'.

[Imperial Overlord]

The nightmare shook her head and snorted a jets of flame out of her nostrils. "Soon," crooned Nalifan. "The water's dropping."

The drow turned his head to survey the soldiers assembled. Southern paladins and heavy cav in the center, professionals with spears on the flanks, and northern boys with long bows to feather the fuckers as they came across. There were far too many half trained levies, meat for the slaughter. He was bailing a a fucking swamp with a sieve. At least he had his mage corps and rangers.

"Forcing a crossing is something to be avoided at all costs," Darmira said. She licked her lips. "But it's going to work here, isn't it?"

"They'll pay for the crossing," said Nalifan, "but yes it will. Doesn't mean they'll win though. Bleed them white and grind them to dust, unless I tell you otherwise."

"So you said," she said. "That many, they'll envelop us and cut us to pieces. Hammer any strong points with sorcery, bleed us with arrows."

"That's what they think," said Nalifan. "Of course, sending a half dozen of their heavy hitters and a gaggle of witches and horsemen up the river to dam it has certain consequences. One of which is that sneaking around in the pre-dawn darkness is not a good way to hide your movements when the other side has elves in their numbers. Another is that even if they survive the ambush they won't be available to deal with the surprise I have for them."

"Which is?" she asked, arching her eyebrow.

"You'll see." He nudged the nightmare and the beast leapt into the air and galloped up into the air, flaming hooves gaining purchase as if they were on solid ground.

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Haaken crawled through the damp grass on his belly. Joren was just off to his left, grinning like an idiot as always. The young fool at least kept his lips over his teeth. At least his trade craft was good.

There were a score of them, elf friends and the sons and grandsons of elf friends and the chosen men of northern lords. All gifted with elf cloaks and bows made elf style and a precious handful of elf made enchanted arrows.

A wall of earth had risen up, cutting the Serpent in two. The wall protruded more than two hundred feet on either side of the river bed. Water rushed into it piled up, pooled, and began to flow around. It wouldn't last, but it didn't have to.

The Khaduli were on the other side of the river, wearing leather and steel. Their witches wore heavy fringed cloaks and elaborate jewelry of feathers and bone. If the wind had been blowing this way, Haaken would have been able to smell the carnal stench coming off them.

It was more than four hundred yards to make the shot, but it was one that could be made by every one of the eighteen men with him. An elf could spend a hundred years mastering the bow, but it hadn't taken Haaken that long to get good.

The wall was still growing. Got to respect the witches' dedication to the job. Fucking cannibal heathens were too thrice cursed good at their business. World would be a better place with them all gone.

"I got crow feather crown," growled Haakon. "Everyone pick a witch, double up on them , no more, and put three in them rapid. Then run like hell or go to ground. On me."

He rose up, seeming to appear out of nowhere, a shade standing in the grass with a bow in his hand. A score of shades really, spread out and already loosing arrows. Haaken's second arrow was drawn back before the first hit. The shafts sped through the air and sliced through the Khaduli wards and shields. Four Khaduli fell off their horses outright. More were injured. The storm came fast and furious and then was over. Half the Khaduli mages were dead and dying as the rangers burst apart like a mage's fireball and then went to ground, sliding like snakes through the spring grass.

The range was too great for Khaduli bows to do much, but the surviving mages were more than capable of reaching their foes. Shields sprung up and then the storm was loosed. Violet lightning sent earth geysering into the air. Shards of crystaline acid tore through the air. Corpselight green streaks of fire streaked through the air and detonated in clouds of flames.

Haaken grinned as he slid away from the strike zone. The Khaduli mages were striking blind and aiming too high to boot. It was amazing what could miss a man that stayed low enough and none of the men with him were green enough to stick their heads up. All but the unlucky should make it. He hoped the boys down river were doing as well.

[LadyTevar]

Go Rangers!!!

Pity there's no way to burst the dam once the raiders start across...

[Lerryn]

Ooh, nice little ambush. Well done showing what good rangers can pull off, against a foe that isn't specifically looking for such. I like Haakon. I wonder, given that it had little chance of wiping out the Khaduli party, and what Nal said, whether that's all that will happen to the group damming the river. (I agree with the Lady, it would be fun to have the dam fail shortly after the Khaduli have started to reach the other side.)

I like seeing the estimates of relative strength from various sides. Oh, and more hints about tricks Nal has up his sleeve - fun!

On another note, I was thinking about Antimagic fields, and I know the Crown of Sorcery wards Nal against their effects - does this mean he cannot use the spell, since he's immune to it? (If he could, that would be a truly cheap way to win spell-duels.)

In the nitpick department, "Everyone pick a witch, double up on them, no more,"

[Rem 12]

Huzzah! I can't wait for the main event.

[Imperial Overlord]

On another note, I was thinking about Antimagic fields, and I know the Crown of Sorcery wards Nal against their effects - does this mean he cannot use the spell, since he's immune to it? (If he could, that would be a truly cheap way to win spell-duels.)

He can use it, it just doesn't work when he's nearby. He could antimagic an area and walk away. As a heavy hitting, magic resistant mage whose closest allies are mages and a psionic, antimagic isn't the top of his list of things to do.

[Imperial Overlord]

Krazad watched Nalifan ascend into the sky. Spheres of silver light orbited around the elf, ready to drink incoming spells, while armour of cerulean light protected the elf against all but the most potent magics. The distance was increasing and the drow was already well beyond the range of most spells. "You should fear us," the Carnivora whispered.

"So that is their great wizard," said the King of Tribes.

"Yes," Krazad replied. A hundred warriors and a half dozen mages surrounded the Khaduli leaders, members and war-slaves of the Arkesh Tribe. Before them were tens of thousands of warriors and beyond them the rapidly dwindling river.

The King of Tribes gazed across the Serpent River. "They are so few. And he is only one." He raised his hand and then dropped it. Light flared in the sky and a hundred foot crimson bar appeared hanging in the air and then fell into the Serpent where it vanished in a spray of motes.

Thirty thousand throats gave voice to a wordless roar as they urged their horses forward. They poured down the shallow incline that had once been the river bank and into the water below. Spray splattered the horses' flanks and filled the air as they galloped through the trickle of water and towards the far bank. There were two of them for every Vanyardian on the other side and they were merely the tip of the spear. The ground shook under the thunder of their hooves.

Deraddan archers pulled back the strings of their longbows and sent nearly a thousand shafts into the air. The Khaduli wore leather and mail, armour that gave substantial protection against all but the fiercest of blows. At this range, most arrows were not a threat. Most fell through empty space. A few struck home.

The bodkin points fell with enough power to slide through leather and flesh. Even mail did not always save the wearer. Horses and mend floundered and fell as the next volley fell and then the next. The charge slowed as riders moved over or around their fallen fellows. Hundred perished under the Deraddan lash. The front line rode up the other side of the bank as arrows continued to fall and found themselves facing a line of steel. Thousands of knights faced them at the ready, lances held at the ready.

The knights of Vanyard were armoured in mail and plate and rode horses almost half again as massive as those that carried the Khaduli. Long lances and tall shields were presented to the enemy as they began to move to meet them. The Khaduli howled and began to form a line of their own, longer than those that faced them. Pikes shielded the flanks of the knights but there were still more Khaduli coming. Soon they would have the men of Vanyard surrounded and strike where they were weak. The strongest part of the line would shatter under the hammer blows of sorcery and what remained would fall to Khaduli sabers and spears or under a rain of arrows from their recurved horn bows.

Magic flared. Killing spells flashed toward the knights from the witches and bane speakers in the Khaduli ranks. Orbs of glistening verdigris acid, flashes of crimson lightning, streaks of violet light, and jets of ochre flames were unleashed on the knights of Vanyard. Most exploded harmlessly into clouds of multicoloured motes as the counter spells of a mage cadres and prayers of warrior-priests scattered and disrupted the lethal magics. Others were absorbed by enchanted banners, woven with ancient protections, or splattered harmlessly against the shields of the paladins of the Trinity. A minority struck home and men died, their flesh torn open or eaten away, but the losses were too few to break the line. As inexorable as the tide, the knights struck home.

Spears and lances were shivered and broken. Horses fell screaming and men were crushed under hooves. The superior mass and protection of the knights paid dividends, as did the reach of their lances. The front rank of the Khaduli were crushed or skewered and the knights pressed home, discarding their broken or entangled lances for the swords, maces, flails, and axes they relied upon to do close quarters work. Their armoured destriers bit and kicked their smaller enemies and forced them back and down under their steel shod hooves. Steel barding repelled desperate blows as the Khaduli were over powered and hammered down by fell handed men. Blood sprayed and men fell in a storm of shouting, cursing, and dying. The knights killed their way to the river bank, where before them thousands of Khaduli were spreading out under the dark storm of arrows that fell from the sky and took a relentless toll.

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Darmira ran the Khaduli in front of her through the left shoulder with a single thrust of the Windcutter, the elven blade that had been gifted to her mother's house three hundred years earlier. The Khaduli was bigger than her, but in her harness she massed almost as much. He was slower and less skilled in the hectic close quarters melee she had trained for. She took off his sword hand and then the left side of his face. Teeth and blood spilled from the wound as he fell from his frantic horse. She struck the beast just above the eyes, panicking it and driving it back into the Khaduli ranks to disrupt them more. They were winning! By the Three they were winning. And Nalifan had yet to throw a single spell.

They had the bank now and with the advantage of the high ground the Khaduli could only be ground into the dust. Stout pikemen guarded their flanks, but by the Three there were so many Khaduli and even more in waiting on the other side. An army half a foot could not out maneuver an army on horseback and there were so very many Khaduli. A spear of emerald light fell from the sky off to her left and the Khaduli on the extreme flanks began to cross. Encirclement and then death. How many spells could the banners stop? Not many more, she thought. Still, the Khaduli were paying a higher price for passage than they had planned for. The line held. They still had options.

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The King of Tribes looked on impassively as the Khaduli center was slowly pushed back while the flanks gained the bank and began to encircle Vanyard's army. The house dwellers were giving a better accounting of themselves than most, but their end was near. The foreign wizard still did nothing while the Khaduli encircled his army. Soon it would be too late to act and if he did act, Krazad and others would pounce on him. As he watched a serpentine streak of jade light flashed up from the ground towards Nalifan. One of the dozens of silver spheres orbiting the mage flared brightly and then vanished, consuming the attacking spell as it did so. The King of Tribes turned his head to the side and spat.

"He's playing some kind of waiting game."

"Yes," said Krazad. "Only the truly strong can effectively strike at him. He wants us to reveal ourselves so he kill us. He is confident in the strength of his wards and his own killing sorcery."

"A few take his bait."

"Even the mighty can be fools," replied the Carnivora. "Mighty as he is, he will not carry the day. He is overmatched."

"The moment of decision has arrived," said the King of Tribes. He gestured and a bar of gold light fell from the sky.

Handlers cracked whips and blew horns in acknowledgment. Along the Khaduli lines thousands of tall, hyena headed humanoids snarled and charged. Like their Khaduli masters they wore leather and mail, although some of them sported scraps of steel plate. They were armed with heavy swords and axes which they swung easily with a strength no mortal man could match. Bloody light blazed in their eyes as the demons bound to their flesh drove the gnolls to their physical limits. Howling they plunged down the banks of the Serpent, eager to maim and slay. The Khaduli disdained fighting on foot, but their wizards had found ways of turning the scavengers and raiders on the edge of the plains the Khaduli had once called home into the world's most fearsome heavy infantry.

They splashed through the ankle deep water, contemptuous of the rain of arrows. A mortal wound would merely slow them and a death blow would merely leave the demon bodiless until it was given another garbage fed scavenger-slave to possess. No mortal berserker could match their hardiness or ferocity. They unleashed howls that strained their throats as the made the crossing. The would butcher the pikemen and then strike at the knight's flanks, pulling them from their horses like babes from their mothers' arms and slaughter them. Their groins swelled with the anticipation of maiming and killing. The rapine and torture that would follow the battle would be even sweater still.

Downstream, unnoticed by all but one, the waters receded further revealing a bleached white skull the size of a wagon. The falling water exposed long trail of massive vertebrae connecting the head to an even more massive body. Blood-red stars ignited in dark sockets as the ancient bones lifted themselves from the riverbed.

"Now," said Nalifan, "we begin the killing dance."

[LadyTevar]

MAGNIFICENT! I'd wondered where she was hiding!

[D.Turtle]

Now it shouldn't be too much longer until things to start going wrong

[Lerryn]

First, a couple nitpicks:
"He was slower and less skilled the the hectic close quarters melee she had trained for." That should be "in the".

"Spear of emerald light fell from the sky off to her left..." "Spear" should either have an article in front of it, or be plural.


A wonderful update. The Khaduli aren't having the cakewalk they expected, and Nal's been able to save himself to counter their epic-level types. Still no word on what Blightmaker might have accomplished, but it might not have happened yet - it might be hitting the Khaduli camp, perhaps. And Deathwing rears its head - good show indeed! I like how you depict a war with magic as an integral part of the setting.

[LadyTevar]

I will also point out that the Khaludi are going to find Nalifan is a damn fine dancer.

The beat of feet marching to their death, the thrumming of arrows and the clang of weapons upon shields, and the vocal warcries and deathscreams... Nalifan is going to dance well.

[Rem 12]

And so it begins .

I have a hard time believing that Nal can't pick out where the King of Tribes and Krazad are, they're probably throwing off magical auras like nobody's business, and I don't see them as the type to hide from a powerful foe.

A couple of dropped letters:

She took of his sword hand and then the left side of his face.

Should be off, I think.

"Even the might can be fools,"

mighty

I'm eager to see how the Khaduli react to the undead dragon (besides being incinerated, of course ).

[Imperial Overlord]

Deathwing howled, releasing not the roar of an enraged beast but the icy cold and tearing winds of a winter gale. The undead dragon spread the bone spars that were its wings and leapt into the air. The wings lashed the air in imitation of the flight of a living creature, but it was sorcery that allowed the dragon to rise.

Nalifan's steed galloped down through the air as Deathwing rose. An invisible wave of dragon fear spilled up the riverbed. In its wake horses screamed and thrashed, bucking and twisting almost beyond control. Froth spilled from their lips and their eyes went wide. They kicked, and thrashed, and twisted in a desperate attempt to escape.

Animals were not the only one to be touched by the dragon fear. Dread froze Khaduli hearts as nightmare embodying the twin terrors of primordial destructive power and unquiet death rose above them. Courage deserted them and strength left their limbs as their bowels loosened. The bravest held fast, fighting hard to try and control their horses as the charge dissolved into a panicked route.

The Vanyards were further away and spared the worst of it. Their horses balked at the river bank, though few had the heart to try and force them forward. Those among the officers and highborn who retained their heads attempted to rally their knights, shouting and raising weapons and urging their banner bearers to hold fast. The archers and pikemen were further back and less affected. They continued to move into position and rain down arrows upon the panicking Khaduli.

There were two forces that were not touched by the dragon fear. One were the Paladins of the Trinity, soul bonded to Three, and shielded from such frailties of spirit by their connection to their divine patrons. Their advance slowed almost to a halt upon the appearance of Deathwing, but they steadied when they saw the one group among the Khaduli untouched by fear.

Gnolls feared dragons and the undead as much as any man, but the demons riding them had no such fears. Arrows bit into their flesh but did not disuade them. The pain suffered by their unwilling hosts strengthened, not weakened them. Their hosts' flesh they pushed to their limits and beyond. The would rip ligament and tenden, break and shatter their own bones in their lust to kill. Undaunted by the dragon they pushed ahead, raging up the river bank with bloody froth spilling from their lips.

Godren, Chalice Keeper of the Knights of the Triad, raised his sword to the sky. White fire blazed down the length of the blade. He called the traditional invocation against otherworldly enemies. "The Mother's Hearth!"

A hundred throats took up the cry. "The Mother's Hearth!" Swords and lance heads blazing with white fire were raised and their steeds kicked into the charge. The demons outnumbered them five to one. They hit the knights with a crash like thunder.

White light flared, brighter than the sun. Lances cracked and bones shattered. Flesh was hewn, burned, and trampled under iron shod hooves. The Knights of the Triad sliced through their foes, dealing out death with fell handed fury. The demons shrieked and lashed out with deadly weapons, only to be hacked down and slaughtered by the Three's paladins. Some began to break and the whole horde collapsed into chaos as the knights killed they way through the demon possessed mass.

Deathwing rose above the fighting, his maw gaping wide open. Sorcery from the few Khaduli mages who still had control over their steeds splattered off his hide as the undead shed killing spells like rain water. A cloud of utter darkness erupted from his jaws and engulfed scores of Khaduli. Flesh sloughed off and fell from rotting bones as it was transformed into liquid putrescence. Those merely touched by the black cloud recoiled as their flesh darkened rotted where the darkness blighted them.

Arrows continued to fall on the Khaduli as they attempted to regroup. Flares of fire and lightning slew scores as the mages of Vanyard diverted some of their attention from dispelling Khaduli magics and unleashed their own killing magics. The Khaduli died in droves as their leaders attempted to reassert control over their own steeds and their men dying around them. In the skies above, Nalifan halted the descent of his damned steed. The drow was armoured in ghost plate of cerulean light and surrounded by a cluster of silvery orbs, some of the mightiest protective spells in his arsenal. Against the combined might of the Khaduli high mages they would merely buy him time, and not much of it.

It would not be long before most of the Khaduli mages had recovered and were again releasing barrages of sorcery against the Vanyard troops. Most of the counter magics had already been depleted and the Khaduli spells would smash Deathwing to the earth and decimate Vanyard's ranks. That was not going to happen.

Blue fire erupted around the Fist of Suns as he uttered words that drew in power and shaped it according to his will. He had spent his time high above the battlefield finding the high mages in the Khaduli ranks and studying their wards and shields. Now he struck.

The rubies on Shieldbreaker flared with power as did the gems that were part of the Fist of Suns. Azure meteors streaked from Nalifan's fist, augmented by the power of the two deadly talismans. They streaked through the air toward a knot of Khaduli in orbit around one of the chieftains. The ward around them was consumed by the first meteor. The second, third, and fourth struck home in rapid succession. Blue fire fountain into the sky from the impact point. Meruza, one of the high wizards of the Jagged Blades Tribe, two senior mages, and two witches along with a dozen bodyguards were blasted apart and mixed into the spray of earth and ash that was blasted into the air.

Nalifan grinned and turned toward the next mage cadre as Deathwing circled around in the air and turned toward the main body of the Khaduli still on the opposite river bank. In his left hand the drow raised the Staff of Ruin. Bloody light poured from bone white staff, flaying away the flesh of another cadre, leaving only dripping red bones in its wake. Deathwing roared and his jaws gaped wide. Black night billowed forth and more flesh was turned to rot.

The King of Tribes didn't even blink as the darkness rolled over him. He kicked free of the dissolving corpse of his horse and didn't even flinch as he was splattered with the liquid flesh of his horse guards. "Krazad!" he roared. "End this!"

[LadyTevar]

That was simply beautiful.

[Lerryn]

I agree with the Lady, that was excellent. Using dragon fear to shape the battlefield, which allows Nal to go after the magical heavy hitters (not the top ones, but the ones he can actually take out without full engagement). And, or course, it's hard to cast while dealing with a panicking mount. Paladins countering the demon-possessed gnolls, very good. And I'm not sure if isolating the King of Tribes (by killing his guard) was worth the impending badness that is about to happen to Deathwing. On the other hand, that will draw out Krazad, which I expect Nal prepared for.

I am curious about what Deathwing has become - not merely a skeletal dragon, probably not a dracolich... Something custom?

And finally, the typo hunt:
"Arrows bit into their flesh but did not dissuade them."
"They would rip ligament and tendon,"
"Those merely touched by the black cloud recoiled as their flesh darkened, rotted where the darkness blighted them." (Added a comma, to help it make sense. To me, at least.)

[Master_Baerne]

Those poor, poor bastards. Nice to see an archmage and a dragon('s corpse) being used to their full potential.

[LadyTevar]

Oh hell... I almost forgot about the Devil there with the Evil Prince. They both want Nal out of the way, and now would be a great time to take him out.

[Imperial Overlord]

Chaos and darkness surged over the Khaduli line. Dragon fear triggered routing in all but the strongest hearts and the shear mass of panicked bodies had a mass all of its own. The black cloud of its breath enveloped strong points and left oozing putrescence in it's wake. Order broke into a thousand tiny fragments. Not even the great wizards, the Vescoria who could break the earth and tame the sky, were immune to effects of an army being shattered. Arzerek the Ancient was knocked from his rearing horse and trampled to death under uncaring hooves while Merezed was forced to join with the surging mass retreating in fear in order to avoid sharing a similar fate.

Krazad avoided a similar fate by stepping into the sky as the dragon scourged the army of the people. The will of the King of Tribes was clear. The dragon must be dealt with and was his problem. The King of Tribes would attend to other matters. With a simple spell he sent a message into the minds of all of the Vescoria. "Shield me from their mages." Krazad was all too aware that he was making a target of himself. The necromancer was moments from falling on him like a thunderbolt.

Deathwing turned lazily on tattered wings, cold stars burning in his empty eye sockets. Krazad spoke words of power, unleashing crimson fire and dark vitriol that lashed the dragon's bones, eating away a swath of his ribcage and crippling his wings, but he was the shadow of a dragon bound to bones that once had been his by dark magic and far beyond pain. Nightmare jaws opened and the Carnivora rose straight into the sky, straight as an arrow and almost as swift. Deathwing was faster. Crippled wings beat the air as the undead dragon closed in pursuit.

Krazad spoke the initiators of a spell of appalling power. An ruddy orb materialized by and dragon and sprouted long arms that tangled themselves with the dragons limbs. Others grabbed ribs and spine. The limbs twisted and the orb began to spin. It should have torn itself apart, but Krazad had summoned raw chaos from the deepest depths of the Abyss. It quivered like gelatine, stuck like spider stands, and was stronger than silk or steel. Bone cracked under its terrible twisting pull.

Krazad turned to look for Nalifan, but the elf was gone. Where had he gone? He couldn't have fled, not yet. Not when he had such an opportunity before him. So where had he gone. A roar from below told him Deathwing had his maw free. The undead dragon would not be bound much longer.

Krazad spoke a spell for breaking stone and earth, a breaker of castle walls and gates. A phantom bull of enormous size, transparent and glowing with power like a storm cloud that housed lightnings, crashed into the bound dragon. The spell discharged all of its force with a flash. Ribs broke. Limbs and spinal columns cracked. The chaos orb twisted and tore and pulled. The dragon came a part in a score of falling pieces.

Krazad expected a few to die when the bones struck hit the ground. That was the nature of such things and a cheap price to pay. And die they did, but he did not expect what came next. The bones exploded. Rings of bright orange flame drove dragonbone splinters like bolts from an arbalest through the Khaduli ranks. Hundreds were torn apart, burned or pierced. The very sound of the detonation was a hammer blow and the dead were surrounded by a cordon of the maimed and wounded. It was carnage terrible enough to shock even this army.

The King of Tribes held his lance aloft. Blood painted him from head to toe, but neither he nor the horse he had taken from a dying man seemed to have been harmed. His voice was the voice of a god. "Follow me!" he cried and men miles away heard him. He rode to river bank and down the slope. The Knights of the Triad were hacking the demon bound gnolls to pieces, against his might all their prowess would not save them. They were meat and all the world was a plate.

Darmira saw the ragged charge of broken and bloody men as the reached the river bank. Behind the ragged double handful of warriors the Khaduli were restoring their ranks and a stream of warriors were picking their way through the ghastly killing zone to join the tale end of the charge. Against the Knights of the Triad it should have been a joke, but she knew it wasn't. "Fall back!" she shouted and magic made her voice carry. "Dress new lines on the bank!"

The Knights of the Triad heard her but did not head her. They were fearless men and they were face to face with evil and they were winning handily. The rest of the army began to fall back and reform, but they continued their slaughter. A ragged charge by a handful of men on step ponies was not something they were prepared to retreat from. The Khaduli drew on a font of dark power, but the gods themselves gave the paladins strength.

That opinion changed as the Khaduli hit the rear of the disintegrating mob of demon possessed. The King of Tribes hacked through flesh as if it were mist and bone as if it were cheese cloth. The King of Tribes hacked his way through his dying slaves, leaving a trail of gore in his wake and creating short lived fountains of blood. It was enough to cause even the Knights of the Triad to reconsider.

The King of Tribes killed the first knight with an axe stroke so fierce that it cleaved through shield, armour, arm, helm, and skull. The force snapped the haft. He tore the arm off the next knight and armed himself with his sword, disdaining to draw the other scabbarded on his horse. The third was wiser than the other. He accepted his death and stabbed the King's horse through the neck while urging his own destrier forward. They both died a moment later, but left the King of Tribes unhorsed and buried under half a ton of flesh. That most precious of commodities, time had been bought.

The Knights of the Triad retreated up the bank, covered by arrow storm that was decimating the ragged charge and the long pikes of the infantry who were forming a wall to bar the Khaduli. Charging uphill into those pikes would be worse than murderous, it was suicide. Suicide unless sorcery broke those lines or chosen of a god smashed through first.

The destrier pinning the King of Tribes was shoved off by pure brute strength. The blood covered man stood and regained his footing. He was red from head to foot and surrounded by his dead. On one side of the river bank were his people. On the other the enemy. Archers loosed. A dozen shafts pierced him. Both arms were struck, four pierced his torso, one lodged in his throat. He laughed. Somehow he laughed and it was a terrible grating thing. All could hear his voice. Men miles away shook in fear.

"I die," he declared in Khaduli, yet somehow all understood him, "when the god wills it. All the worlds are his feast hall and your nation is on the plate." He walked forward, taking slow, deliberate steps. "Feast with me. The god wills it!"

The Khaduli let out a terrible roar and surged down into the river bed. The thunder of their hooves drowned out all lesser sound. Some of them would perish, but their champion was invincible and their mages had prevailed. Another nation was about to end. The roar of their shouts joined with the beat of their hooves and drowned out everything.

[Alan Bolte]

That's a hell of an update.

You might want to add a line about the King of Tribes getting a new horse, seeing as his horse was a dissolving corpse at the end of the last update.

[Imperial Overlord]

That's a hell of an update.

You might want to add a line about the King of Tribes getting a new horse, seeing as his horse was a dissolving corpse at the end of the last update.

Maybe. I thought the fact that he grabbed someone else's horse was pretty clear, but that's just me.

[Lerryn]

Sad that Deathwing went bye-bye, but that's really what it was for - to present a credible threat to draw out Krazad, and give Nalifan time to slip out of sight... which means things are going to go boom (or maybe splorch) soon. Losing sight of Nal is bad. I have a feeling something unpleasant is going to happen to the Khaduli charge...