Within two days the party reached the first signs of a battle. Almost fifteen miles from Zeld’s shell were deceased warriors and bloodied demon corpses. Beasts of all shapes and sizes had been felled by adventurers who couldn’t survive with their wounds. The unmarked area became a symbol of where civilians should not cross. Settlements of all kinds between it and the vault were evacuated as the onslaught of demons grew. Kargon would never admit it but was glad the young adventurers didn’t falter at the mountain of corpses. Theirs wasn’t a world that could be survived if a sight like this hindered them.
Time passed not only in hours but sites of battle passed. By the time the group arrived at base camp, they had crossed nearly a dozen past encounters. The town of Jamoraz had been repurposed and fortified to fit troops and weapons within its walls. If all went according to plan, one day it could be returned to its original state. Though everyone involved knew that was wishful thinking.
Freckle met the group near the southern watchtower where she had been awaiting them. Seeing one of the captain’s walking around the camp was astonishing to most Barbatos agents. Even more so, many had not seen her beastly companion before. Not to mention the guests who followed her were awe-inspiring. But their presence didn’t bring levity or diminish the seriousness of the ramping situation. Only hope and inspiration that no matter what happened, Vethyea could win this war. Such thoughts should have remained private. No sooner than whispers passed through the camp did urgent news reach the gates.
“We’re in danger!” someone screamed as she ran directly through the wooden partition. There was no opportunity to check on her wellbeing as she continued in a panic. “The demons, they’re focusing on us now! The gate opened and some went into the shell but there’s hundreds targeting our scouts!”
“How many do you need?” Freckle barked over the rising voices of concerned allies.
“How many can we spare?” Another member asked. “Do we have more captains to go with them?”
“They’re indisposed with plans for the next battle. Who can lead the cavalry alongside me?” Freckle asked.
Aisha huffed. “If your troops die there won’t be another battle.” She pushed past the crowd without another word with her party in tow. “We’re going. Anyone who wants to can follow.”
“What happened to not rushing in?” Freckle protested.
“I said you’d hate it if we rushed in. Not that we wouldn’t do it!” There would be a smirk plastered on Aisha’s face if only it could overpower the anger swelling inside her.
It was clear some members hoped Aisha would take charge. Instead another agent stepped up. The familiar figure calmed the nerves of many onlookers.
Rusty grunted at Freckle, “Lead the way. We’re right behind you.”
Though his style of armor was different, Rusty looked as powerful as ever. It helped that his spiked greatsword was strapped to his back. At his side were Freckle and Spike. They interacted with a familiarity that intrigued Kargon. He made a mental note to ask about it after the battle was won. No part of him would allow him to consider loss a possibility.
The confirmation gave more troops confidence to join the fray. But it didn’t matter how many decided to join as Aisha and her party had already rushed through the gate without a single command. If battle was happening anywhere nearby, Sariel would sense it. With Avant’s empowering abilities they would arrive with no issues. It even spread to the group of familiar faces behind them. The Dawncaster residents were joined by their guard captain, Freckle, and Spike. It seemed this battle outweighed her role as an information gatherer. At least fifty other soldiers chased after them with fire in their eyes.
Tensions and emotions ran high on any battlefield. No matter how trained someone was they couldn’t help but feel stress. Stoicism often fell away in the face of a challenge. But nothing ever gave way to fear. Not unless the consequences were dire. No one could blame the agents of Barbatos near Zeld’s Shell for succumbing to such an emotion. One seldom saw a mass of rampaging demons charging at them. It was as if their attack was a celebration of breaking into the vault. Only a dozen Barbatos scouts were sent out to keep an eye on the demon’s progress. Few remained and were in dire straits when the cavalry arrived.
A rapid chain of lightning arched off Aisha as she dashed into the fray. Kargon swore under his breath as his speedy ally placed herself in the middle of a massive crowd. Thankfully he was no longer weak in such a situation. Upon igniting he let out a burning aura that hindered anyone who approached. Powerful punches ripped through monsters while large astral projections encompassed surrounding enemies and lit them ablaze. Instead of helping with the smallfry, Sariel remained in the sky to search for Veil. Without a word she’d gained Aisha’s approval for the plan. Both knew that the Ring of Planes outweighed her vengeance. But the dragon knew how to deal with both at once. Her keen eyes were the first to see the shattered stone doors that blocked access to a cube built into the ground. Corpses of demons were piled around it from tackling it nonstop. They attempted to attack the flying ranger to no avail.
While their allies focused on pushing forward, Vofric and Avant looked towards the surrounded scouts. The owlbear had begun to show more of an understanding of tactics that suited his ability to shift the physical and emotional strain of battle. A pocketed gravitational pull kept Vofric close as his bestial companion’s hide ruffled. With a single mighty charge he opened a path through the monsters. Their close allies followed into the fray but many of the adventurers hesitated.
Rusty quickly unsheathed his sword and cut through monsters one-by-one. A single attack ripped them from the plane. Spike produced blade-like quills all over his body and rolled through enemies. Any that didn’t fall were met with long sabers gripped by his master, Freckle. Near imperceptible slices allowed her to rend monsters in twain. The distance and range of her attacks felt illogical until another shadow appeared. Smoke poured out of the halfling’s coat as she dashed from monster to monster.
It felt like each fallen enemy summoned more in their place. The scouts cowered behind Vofric and Avant. To their side was Makani with his staff unfurled in his right hand. Orbs of light burned through any monsters that stepped closer than he permitted. Only a few did thanks to Albert’s expertise with a blade. But it was obvious he was beginning to feel overwhelmed by the sheer number of shadows around him. Attacks were landing and the young man would fall in a matter of time.
“Fall back, Albert!” Vofric commanded. “You are not in your top form.”
“Makani, I think this is a good time for it!” the swordsman yelled back.
The prince replied, “Agreed.”
From his left hand he produced an orb of light. Instead of firing it at the enemies he sent it slowly towards Albert then raised it to the sky. It was more refined than the explosive projectiles that were ripping through their enemies. Even while his eyes were on the rising pearl, he continued to battle. Movements became more refined and attacks stronger. Finally the orb stopped and Albert’s eyes glowed like emeralds.
“Thanks, Mak,” he growled.
A monster blocked his sword and he released it before spinning and striking with his open hand. Mid turn it transformed into the massive silver claw that struck fear into the hearts of many. Sunlight didn’t compliment Albert’s werewolf form like the moon but its presence was greatly appreciated. Wide swinging claw strikes hit multiple enemies at once. Some died immediately while others were only hindered. It gave enough time for another attack to end them. Watching it gave Vofric an idea and he looked for Rusty or Freckle. Neither were in any place to command the soldiers frozen from inexperience. Monsters on the outskirts of the battle took notice and prepared to strike.
“Melee combatants, hold the line!” Vofric barked. “Spellcasters, utilize widespread attacks.”
“Those are… weaker,” one of the wounded scouts said.
As elements of all kinds rained around them, monsters fell in droves. The silhouette of a kindly dwarf healing wounds seemed much larger all of a sudden. At his back were a prince and two beasts who he implicitly trusted to keep him from harm. For some reason he did not close the minor wounds on the scouts but they assumed it was to save mana in case anything went wrong.
“You are not incorrect. But if you attack with unrelenting numbers, the difference in damage is unnoticeable,” Vofric said with a smile after healing the last scout. “Fall back when an opening presents itself.”
He turned away to hide his frustration in not being able to completely heal the agents. Something about the demon’s attacks caused issues with his magic. But centuries of experience had made him a master of finding opportunities where others saw walls.
“Rusty! Overwhelm them in crimson waves!” Vofric commanded.
The Dawncaster captain paused for a moment to see the blood pooled all across teh battlefield. By waving his blade, he manipulated the crimson liquid into a torrent that cascaded over his enemies. Droves of monsters died faster than they could bring forth others. Fresh demonic creatures were destroyed before they had an opportunity to attack. With each wave of attacks, the allied troops pushed forward into the thinning demonic mass. The sounds of wild laughter and rage must have reached into Zeld’s Shell as Veil finally stepped outside. A foolish assumption caused him to think only Barbatos troops were on the battlefield. He hoisted the ring up as a sign of victory and to bolster his subordinates. Triumphant roars passed through them as they fought with more vigor. As they turned away from the changeling he slowly lowered the ring.
In an instant, an arrow pierced through the opening and pulled it from his grasp. When the bolt hit a nearby wall it sprouted roots that erupted outward. They bent backwards into a tight sphere that locked the ring inside a small cage. Veil angrily stared at the magical trap then turned as Sariel dropped to the ground nearby and dismissed her wings.
“How dare you?” he growled.
For the first time since they met, composure eluded him. Maybe that was why Sariel felt so calm even in the midst of a sea of monsters. None had the chance to reach her as Kargon and Aisha reached the edge of the demonic army. Without a word, the dragon transformed her bow into two scimitars. A single step forward turned into a jump forward as her wings reappeared and darted her directly into range. One swing was easily dodged but the other caught Veil’s arm. Experience made it obvious that he allowed it to happen. Metallic scales quickly grew across the indistinct form of the changeling. The unhindered hand became a morningstar that swung back at Sariel. She ducked under it but was met with a sickle cutting her right shoulder.
“Your elven side is weak,” Veil spat. “Release my ring!”
“Is it not meant for your master?” Sariel retorted.
The changeling grunted and swung his arms again. They fused into a large blade. Had it landed the attack could be devastating. But it was too slow for a deft Sariel. She flipped over it and cut two lines across Veil’s chest. The blue ooze within was the same viscosity as blood. It didn’t seem to bother the changeling as they quickly sealed the wound and attacked again. This time it was two flails. One arched wide and bound Sariel’s wings while the other gripped one of her legs. A powerful swing lifted her sky high before slamming her down. Bones cracked under the weight of gravity she’d long forgotten about. As her wings turned back into a cowl she was able to move freely. On a whim she struck Veil’s flail and watched carefully as he winced in pain before releasing her.
While Sariel’s elven side was weaker, it moved more smoothly than the draconic counterparts. Her right leg was broken but remained steady with a quickly summoned splint. The rigid left worked as a weight to keep her balanced. Veil prepared another close range attack but the ranger reverted to her most accustomed weapon. The bow was more intricate than usual with rods to assist in balancing the arrow being created. Barbs and thorns riddled its shaft. Part of Sariel thought it would devastate Veil even if her shot was off. In truth she wasn’t sure if she could land a hit with the arrow filled with magical energy. But she’d learned well that a powerful threat could be as strong as any attack. And clearly this one landed.
“We need not battle here,” Veil seethed. “Simply release the ring and my troops won’t destroy you.”
“What troops are you talking about?” Aisha asked from behind Sariel.
Veil’s tunneled focus dissipated as he stared angrily at the Hero. Then his attention turned to the fiery monk kneeling on top of a cyclops and pummeling a hole into its head. An army of glowing adventurers followed an owlbear and dwarf mounted atop it. Fighters of all kinds finished the last of the demons who once overpowered them. Sariel loosed her arrow and unfortunately missed slightly. Nevertheless, its poisonous barbs cut deep cuts across Veil’s arm that couldn’t be easily healed.
“Mark my words; you will regret this!” the changeling barked as he sprouted bat wings and flew away.
The lack of movement from Aisha signaled to the others to hold their ground. With slow, awkward steps Sariel approached the caged ring and retrieved it. She turned back to see her allies had joined her. No words were spoken as Vofric healed his wounded ally. A simple nod confirmed she was okay and then they all turned to Aisha. Surrounded by hundreds of demonic corpses and fallen allies, they all waited with bated breath. Sariel extended a hand and placed the ring in the Hero’s grasp. She did not foolishly raise it but held it to her chest before turning to the rest of her allies.
Within two days the party reached the first signs of a battle. Almost fifteen miles from Zeld’s shell were deceased warriors and bloodied demon corpses. Beasts of all shapes and sizes had been felled by adventurers who couldn’t survive with their wounds. The unmarked area became a symbol of where civilians should not cross. Settlements of all kinds between it and the vault were evacuated as the onslaught of demons grew. Kargon would never admit it but was glad the young adventurers didn’t falter at the mountain of corpses. Theirs wasn’t a world that could be survived if a sight like this hindered them.
Time passed not only in hours but sites of battle passed. By the time the group arrived at base camp, they had crossed nearly a dozen past encounters. The town of Jamoraz had been repurposed and fortified to fit troops and weapons within its walls. If all went according to plan, one day it could be returned to its original state. Though everyone involved knew that was wishful thinking.
Freckle met the group near the southern watchtower where she had been awaiting them. Seeing one of the captain’s walking around the camp was astonishing to most Barbatos agents. Even more so, many had not seen her beastly companion before. Not to mention the guests who followed her were awe-inspiring. But their presence didn’t bring levity or diminish the seriousness of the ramping situation. Only hope and inspiration that no matter what happened, Vethyea could win this war. Such thoughts should have remained private. No sooner than whispers passed through the camp did urgent news reach the gates.
“We’re in danger!” someone screamed as she ran directly through the wooden partition. There was no opportunity to check on her wellbeing as she continued in a panic. “The demons, they’re focusing on us now! The gate opened and some went into the shell but there’s hundreds targeting our scouts!”
“How many do you need?” Freckle barked over the rising voices of concerned allies.
“How many can we spare?” Another member asked. “Do we have more captains to go with them?”
“They’re indisposed with plans for the next battle. Who can lead the cavalry alongside me?” Freckle asked.
Aisha huffed. “If your troops die there won’t be another battle.” She pushed past the crowd without another word with her party in tow. “We’re going. Anyone who wants to can follow.”
“What happened to not rushing in?” Freckle protested.
“I said you’d hate it if we rushed in. Not that we wouldn’t do it!” There would be a smirk plastered on Aisha’s face if only it could overpower the anger swelling inside her.
It was clear some members hoped Aisha would take charge. Instead another agent stepped up. The familiar figure calmed the nerves of many onlookers.
Rusty grunted at Freckle, “Lead the way. We’re right behind you.”
Though his style of armor was different, Rusty looked as powerful as ever. It helped that his spiked greatsword was strapped to his back. At his side were Freckle and Spike. They interacted with a familiarity that intrigued Kargon. He made a mental note to ask about it after the battle was won. No part of him would allow him to consider loss a possibility.
The confirmation gave more troops confidence to join the fray. But it didn’t matter how many decided to join as Aisha and her party had already rushed through the gate without a single command. If battle was happening anywhere nearby, Sariel would sense it. With Avant’s empowering abilities they would arrive with no issues. It even spread to the group of familiar faces behind them. The Dawncaster residents were joined by their guard captain, Freckle, and Spike. It seemed this battle outweighed her role as an information gatherer. At least fifty other soldiers chased after them with fire in their eyes.
Tensions and emotions ran high on any battlefield. No matter how trained someone was they couldn’t help but feel stress. Stoicism often fell away in the face of a challenge. But nothing ever gave way to fear. Not unless the consequences were dire. No one could blame the agents of Barbatos near Zeld’s Shell for succumbing to such an emotion. One seldom saw a mass of rampaging demons charging at them. It was as if their attack was a celebration of breaking into the vault. Only a dozen Barbatos scouts were sent out to keep an eye on the demon’s progress. Few remained and were in dire straits when the cavalry arrived.
A rapid chain of lightning arched off Aisha as she dashed into the fray. Kargon swore under his breath as his speedy ally placed herself in the middle of a massive crowd. Thankfully he was no longer weak in such a situation. Upon igniting he let out a burning aura that hindered anyone who approached. Powerful punches ripped through monsters while large astral projections encompassed surrounding enemies and lit them ablaze. Instead of helping with the smallfry, Sariel remained in the sky to search for Veil. Without a word she’d gained Aisha’s approval for the plan. Both knew that the Ring of Planes outweighed her vengeance. But the dragon knew how to deal with both at once. Her keen eyes were the first to see the shattered stone doors that blocked access to a cube built into the ground. Corpses of demons were piled around it from tackling it nonstop. They attempted to attack the flying ranger to no avail.
While their allies focused on pushing forward, Vofric and Avant looked towards the surrounded scouts. The owlbear had begun to show more of an understanding of tactics that suited his ability to shift the physical and emotional strain of battle. A pocketed gravitational pull kept Vofric close as his bestial companion’s hide ruffled. With a single mighty charge he opened a path through the monsters. Their close allies followed into the fray but many of the adventurers hesitated.
Rusty quickly unsheathed his sword and cut through monsters one-by-one. A single attack ripped them from the plane. Spike produced blade-like quills all over his body and rolled through enemies. Any that didn’t fall were met with long sabers gripped by his master, Freckle. Near imperceptible slices allowed her to rend monsters in twain. The distance and range of her attacks felt illogical until another shadow appeared. Smoke poured out of the halfling’s coat as she dashed from monster to monster.
It felt like each fallen enemy summoned more in their place. The scouts cowered behind Vofric and Avant. To their side was Makani with his staff unfurled in his right hand. Orbs of light burned through any monsters that stepped closer than he permitted. Only a few did thanks to Albert’s expertise with a blade. But it was obvious he was beginning to feel overwhelmed by the sheer number of shadows around him. Attacks were landing and the young man would fall in a matter of time.
“Fall back, Albert!” Vofric commanded. “You are not in your top form.”
“Makani, I think this is a good time for it!” the swordsman yelled back.
The prince replied, “Agreed.”
From his left hand he produced an orb of light. Instead of firing it at the enemies he sent it slowly towards Albert then raised it to the sky. It was more refined than the explosive projectiles that were ripping through their enemies. Even while his eyes were on the rising pearl, he continued to battle. Movements became more refined and attacks stronger. Finally the orb stopped and Albert’s eyes glowed like emeralds.
“Thanks, Mak,” he growled.
A monster blocked his sword and he released it before spinning and striking with his open hand. Mid turn it transformed into the massive silver claw that struck fear into the hearts of many. Sunlight didn’t compliment Albert’s werewolf form like the moon but its presence was greatly appreciated. Wide swinging claw strikes hit multiple enemies at once. Some died immediately while others were only hindered. It gave enough time for another attack to end them. Watching it gave Vofric an idea and he looked for Rusty or Freckle. Neither were in any place to command the soldiers frozen from inexperience. Monsters on the outskirts of the battle took notice and prepared to strike.
“Melee combatants, hold the line!” Vofric barked. “Spellcasters, utilize widespread attacks.”
“Those are… weaker,” one of the wounded scouts said.
As elements of all kinds rained around them, monsters fell in droves. The silhouette of a kindly dwarf healing wounds seemed much larger all of a sudden. At his back were a prince and two beasts who he implicitly trusted to keep him from harm. For some reason he did not close the minor wounds on the scouts but they assumed it was to save mana in case anything went wrong.
“You are not incorrect. But if you attack with unrelenting numbers, the difference in damage is unnoticeable,” Vofric said with a smile after healing the last scout. “Fall back when an opening presents itself.”
He turned away to hide his frustration in not being able to completely heal the agents. Something about the demon’s attacks caused issues with his magic. But centuries of experience had made him a master of finding opportunities where others saw walls.
“Rusty! Overwhelm them in crimson waves!” Vofric commanded.
The Dawncaster captain paused for a moment to see the blood pooled all across teh battlefield. By waving his blade, he manipulated the crimson liquid into a torrent that cascaded over his enemies. Droves of monsters died faster than they could bring forth others. Fresh demonic creatures were destroyed before they had an opportunity to attack. With each wave of attacks, the allied troops pushed forward into the thinning demonic mass. The sounds of wild laughter and rage must have reached into Zeld’s Shell as Veil finally stepped outside. A foolish assumption caused him to think only Barbatos troops were on the battlefield. He hoisted the ring up as a sign of victory and to bolster his subordinates. Triumphant roars passed through them as they fought with more vigor. As they turned away from the changeling he slowly lowered the ring.
In an instant, an arrow pierced through the opening and pulled it from his grasp. When the bolt hit a nearby wall it sprouted roots that erupted outward. They bent backwards into a tight sphere that locked the ring inside a small cage. Veil angrily stared at the magical trap then turned as Sariel dropped to the ground nearby and dismissed her wings.
“How dare you?” he growled.
For the first time since they met, composure eluded him. Maybe that was why Sariel felt so calm even in the midst of a sea of monsters. None had the chance to reach her as Kargon and Aisha reached the edge of the demonic army. Without a word, the dragon transformed her bow into two scimitars. A single step forward turned into a jump forward as her wings reappeared and darted her directly into range. One swing was easily dodged but the other caught Veil’s arm. Experience made it obvious that he allowed it to happen. Metallic scales quickly grew across the indistinct form of the changeling. The unhindered hand became a morningstar that swung back at Sariel. She ducked under it but was met with a sickle cutting her right shoulder.
“Your elven side is weak,” Veil spat. “Release my ring!”
“Is it not meant for your master?” Sariel retorted.
The changeling grunted and swung his arms again. They fused into a large blade. Had it landed the attack could be devastating. But it was too slow for a deft Sariel. She flipped over it and cut two lines across Veil’s chest. The blue ooze within was the same viscosity as blood. It didn’t seem to bother the changeling as they quickly sealed the wound and attacked again. This time it was two flails. One arched wide and bound Sariel’s wings while the other gripped one of her legs. A powerful swing lifted her sky high before slamming her down. Bones cracked under the weight of gravity she’d long forgotten about. As her wings turned back into a cowl she was able to move freely. On a whim she struck Veil’s flail and watched carefully as he winced in pain before releasing her.
While Sariel’s elven side was weaker, it moved more smoothly than the draconic counterparts. Her right leg was broken but remained steady with a quickly summoned splint. The rigid left worked as a weight to keep her balanced. Veil prepared another close range attack but the ranger reverted to her most accustomed weapon. The bow was more intricate than usual with rods to assist in balancing the arrow being created. Barbs and thorns riddled its shaft. Part of Sariel thought it would devastate Veil even if her shot was off. In truth she wasn’t sure if she could land a hit with the arrow filled with magical energy. But she’d learned well that a powerful threat could be as strong as any attack. And clearly this one landed.
“We need not battle here,” Veil seethed. “Simply release the ring and my troops won’t destroy you.”
“What troops are you talking about?” Aisha asked from behind Sariel.
Veil’s tunneled focus dissipated as he stared angrily at the Hero. Then his attention turned to the fiery monk kneeling on top of a cyclops and pummeling a hole into its head. An army of glowing adventurers followed an owlbear and dwarf mounted atop it. Fighters of all kinds finished the last of the demons who once overpowered them. Sariel loosed her arrow and unfortunately missed slightly. Nevertheless, its poisonous barbs cut deep cuts across Veil’s arm that couldn’t be easily healed.
“Mark my words; you will regret this!” the changeling barked as he sprouted bat wings and flew away.
The lack of movement from Aisha signaled to the others to hold their ground. With slow, awkward steps Sariel approached the caged ring and retrieved it. She turned back to see her allies had joined her. No words were spoken as Vofric healed his wounded ally. A simple nod confirmed she was okay and then they all turned to Aisha. Surrounded by hundreds of demonic corpses and fallen allies, they all waited with bated breath. Sariel extended a hand and placed the ring in the Hero’s grasp. She did not foolishly raise it but held it to her chest before turning to the rest of her allies.
