Seeking vengeance for her own betrayal, the former Princess turned Einherjar Jelanda had gone in search of the very court minister who had brought her to her current state of being. He knew she could not have guessed he had powerful friends in dark places and so Arngrim, the battle-hardened warrior who had humiliated her father, the King, and allowed himself to be killed by his own former Captain, went in search of the headstrong and spoiled mage.
Even as an Einherjar, slain warriors recruited by Valkyrie, the girl had a knack for getting herself into trouble. The grizzled warrior hunkered down as best he could behind the meager cover the broken rubble could offer. It was difficult to hide his towering frame as he peered over the damaged platform. In the center of the cleared wreckage was a ragged circle, hastily formed where a stone tower once stood. Now, it held the unconscious body of a young girl, barely in her teens, surrounded by four Dragon Servants and one massive Dragon Zombie, the decaying creature slavering over her power imbued form. Mages drew the power hungry undead dragons as few other things could.
"Jelanda," Arngrim murmured, his callused hand tightening reflexively on the hilt of his sword. The divinely forged weapon Bahamut's Tear, with a blade nearly equal to his height when standing, rested quietly on the ground to help hide his presence. It wouldn't do to give himself away from the glint of tempered metal. His gaze became more intense the longer he watched. The jagged scar over his left eye gave him a sinister appearance as he glowered at his foes; vile creatures, all of them. They would taste his anger this day.
With stalwart resolve, he stood up slowly; readying his sword for the impending fight he knew was coming. Immediately, his body came alive, ready to respond to his every command and his blood sang a war cry in his veins. A fierce, challenging howl escaped him as the Dragon Zombie met his gaze, murky yellow eyes focusing on him with interest. The four dragon servants turned as one, elongated mouths opened and lined with rows of jagged teeth. Together, they readied their broadswords and shields and charged the loan warrior.
A manic grin crossed Arngrim's face as he threw himself at the charging attackers. His entire world focused to the group in front of him and he relished in the force of his attack against the first dragon servant's shield, the heavy metal giving way slightly under the impact. The creature stepped back only to be replaced by another of his companions and Arngrim savagely parried the thrust, snaking the tip of Bahamut's Tear through the small opening provided and impaling the first of his foes. With no time to relish the kill, he swiftly freed the blade, splashing two of the other servants with the crimson spray of their fallen companion.
The battle seemed to last an eternity, each strike and parry measured carefully against the presence and ability of the foe across from him. Pain flashed through his mind and was just as quickly banished as the frenzy caught hold of him, enabling him to forgo feeling the broadsword that clipped his side and the claws the raked him when he shattered the sword of the one wielding it. Shields gave under his onslaught and were promptly discarded as the servants reverted to more primitive resources.
A second foe fell, beheaded cleanly, a small fount of blood splashing his face in the process. Not much of a distraction, but enough for the third foe to bite him from behind, a massive maw closing down savagely on his left shoulder. Fortunate that it was not his sword arm, Arngrim stabbed Bahamut's Tear backwards, catching the attacker full in the gut. Wrenching the blade out sideways was considerably harder as the blade caught against the ribcage, but his foe was eviscerated as the sword won out and he reveled in the release as the pressure was eased from his shoulder.
His fourth foe regarded him with slit eyes, the dinosaur like tail swinging agitatedly from side to side. Wounded himself, the creature was still a fearsome sight to behold, equaling Arngrim in height and sporting wicked claws that twitched as he watched him. An unintelligible hiss came out as the dragon servant launched himself at the injured man, several hundred pounds of well-muscled flesh hurtling at him, unstoppable and angry.
Sword poised in front, Arngrim let the creature's momentum impale it on the sword, draconic flesh and bone parting easily. That same powerful force continued to carry the creature forward, cruel talons and fierce teeth savagely trying to rend him. The only thing that saved Arngrim was the unexpected stone brick that bumped his leg as he tried to step back. Unable to catch himself, the warrior fell backward into a rocky impression of stones while the dragon servant sailed harmlessly over him. Massive jaws snapped shut a mere hand's breadth from his face loudly before the creature was gone. Bahamut's Tear was torn from his grasp, the blade still embedded in its gut. "Damn draconian menace," the wounded Arngrim grumbled, struggling to free his self from the small impression.
In the moment he moved to recapture his sword, he met the eyes of the Dragon Zombie, still regarding him with intent interest and not more than a few feet away. The rancid breath rolled over him as a decaying tongue hissed softly in the desiccated maw, the sound almost that of laughter. "Hmm…this is getting interesting…" Arngrim murmured to himself as he felt the battle rage begin to wear off. Cornered and unarmed, he was left with little to defend himself as sweat beaded his brow and rivulets of blood trailed down bare arms. Movement caught his eye and he smirked, standing up a bit taller, weary but confident.
"Ye of detestable name and virtue…false apostle; thou art bayed back to the abyss!"
Caught completely unaware, the Dragon Zombie whirled swiftly, fear and pain warring on the features as wings flared, bits of skin shaking free from the full extension as they cracked open. Her spell tore blackened pieces of rotted flesh from the creature, tendrils of smoke rising from the blasted body. The tail came around as the body finished turning, catching Arngrim full in the chest. His body tumbled back, snagging on the remnants of the ruins before it lay still, part way sprawled over a wrecked wall.
"Arngrim!" Jelanda shrieked, her young face bleached white and pinched from the strain. Blue eyes snapped angrily as the Dragon Zombie approached her. Her own weapon, the hard earned Holy Wand of Telos gripped tightly in her hand, Jelanda readied herself for another spell. She waited for the undead creature to get closer and prayed that this next strike would finish it. Her heart hammering in her chest, Jelanda thought she might die of fright right then as the Dragon Zombie reared above her, the open mouth large enough to swallow her whole.
One glance at Arngrim's body steadied her and her eyes hardened to the likeness of steel as she raised the wand up. "Seraphic Law!" she cried exultantly, the sapphire crystal enshrined by four gold claws glowing a glorious silvery blue as white spears of dazzling brilliance were called down upon the creature before her. Wave upon wave upon shining light pierced the body and wings of the undead dragon, drawing forth an earsplitting keen that made Jelanda wince before a final spear caught the creature full in the head, extinguishing the unnatural light from his eyes forever.
Hurriedly, Jelanda backpedaled as the massive body crumpled before her, any semblance of life finally extinguished from the fell body. Weak-kneed with relief, the mage took a deep breath and used her staff to rest on while she caught her breath, blonde tresses obscuring her vision as she slumped forward. Impatiently, she pulled her shoulders back and brushed her hair out of her face. On the other side of the dragon's corpse, Arngrim's body rested on the broken wall, his legs the only visible part of him. Slowly, she edged further away from the corpse, using her staff as a walking stick, until she made it to the warrior's body. He was too heavy to even try to move where he rested but she could see with relief that he still breathed. Carefully, she shuffled around to where his upper body was hanging over the other side and knelt down next to him. "Arngrim," she whispered, placing one slender hand upon his blood-stained pauldron.
"Ugh," was the first response to be had as the battered warrior tilted his head to look at the delicate girl beside him. Besides her clothes being rumpled from where she had lain on the ground and her hair mussed from the wind of the spell, she looked unharmed. "Hah. No problem," he chuckled weakly with a shaky thumbs-up from his good arm.
"Well, they were rather annoying," she managed to smile weakly, trying to put on a brave front for her would be rescuer. "Hold on," she urged as he tried to get up on his own. "At least let me cast…Heal!" she intoned, a soft blue glow flowing from the staff as it bathed him in the warm light.
Wounds closed before their very eyes as the flesh knitted back together, leaving tiny scars behind, hidden by the drying blood. Stiffly, Arngrim pushed himself up from the wall, leaving behind a red imprint where his blood had stained the stone. Wearily, he staggered over to where Bahamut's Tear rested in the body of the last foe he had killed. He could feel Jelanda following him slowly and as he wiped the blade before settling it back in the sheath, he cast her a wry smile. "Ya did good."
Jelanda laughed weakly and slightly rolled her eyes. "I saved your hide didn't I?"
There was the slight trace of the spoiled Princess he knew was there. It made him smile. "Come on," he nodded. "Let's get out of here."
When he reached to place a hand on her shoulder, Jelanda held up her clean hand, neatly hiding the one she'd touched his shoulder with, "Don't even think about it." As he laughed heartily at her response, she daintily picked her way through the ruins, trying to find the easiest path.
He chuckled softly under his breath casting a fond glance at the young girl beside him – glad, still, that he had been able to save her. "So much for gratitude."