Chapter 10

Chapter 10

The Challenge of Seven

As the sun rose, many LoKs gathered on the battlements to watch their champions ride out. As the sun slowly crept over the horizon, Pirvan looked out across the field. He was able to spot Navrip, standing midway between the two forces, awaiting the arrival of the LoKs.

"I wonder what tricks he has up his sleeve?" Connor asked, laying a hand on Pirvan's shoulder.

"I wish I knew, Connor. I wish I knew. If we did, this would be much easier," Pirvan answered.

"Whatever he tries, lad, the Oaks will be ready for it. He doesn't know the half of fighting dirty, and if he tries, he'll find himself outmatched," Oakeye said, testing Alemaker's balance out of habit.

"Aye, he may try something, but he said it would be an honorable fight," Oakbow muttered. "Let's hope he wasn't lying."

"I don't think he is," Tina said in a quiet voice. "When he was...well, let's just say I have reason to trust in his honor."

"I don't think it's Navrip's honor we need worry about," Talmorr said, shooting a scathing glance at Pirvan. The knight had not forgotten Pirvan's betrayal, and he wouldn't let Pirvan forget, either. Pirvan turned away and stared at the sun.

"Th' sun, it's nigh reached full above yon horizon. Mayhaps we should depart anon," Unari said, motioning towards the open plain.

"I shall be off, then," Pirvan said. "Tina, if you would."

Tina nodded and smiled slyly. She leapt off the side of the castle, which elicited gasps from all except Pirvan. There was a sudden whoosh of wind as Tina, now in dragon form, rose above the battlements. Pirvan leapt upon her back, and with a wave as he departed for the battle.

"May Paladine be with you!" Oakbow saluted.

"Melikki guide your hand!" Connor shouted.

The rest of the hails of good luck were lost in the wind as Pirvan and Tina rushed away.

Navrip's eyes followed them the whole way. The pair alighted gently on the ground in front Navrip. "What is she doing here?" Navrip asked, glaring at Tina.

"She'll serve as messenger between the combat and the champions of LoK in the castle. If one of us is defeated, she shall go and retrieve the next. She'll fight last, as you were informed last night."

Navrip stepped backwards, into a large circle drawn in the ground. "Then let us begin," Navrip said. "No magic; we fight until one of us surrenders or one of us perishes. Stepping outside of the circle is the same as admitting surrender."

Pirvan stepped into the circle and readied his flail.

Navrip gave him a salute with a wicked grin. Pirvan, grim faced, returned the salute. Neither combatant made a move. For several seconds, the tension built. Both refused to snap, both refused to make the first move. Finally, Pirvan could take it no longer. He rushed forward, swinging his flail above his head. Navrip stood his ground, grinning wickedly. Pirvan swung the flail with all his power. With a quickness that astounded him, Navrip's sword moved up and parried the blow. The chain of the flail wrapped around the blade. Navrip snatched his arm back with all of his unnatural strength. The flail was ripped out of Pirvan's hands. Navrip punched Pirvan with his free hand, knocking the flesh and bone man backwards. Pirvan hit the ground hard. Navrip had punched him squarely in the face. His jaw throbbed in pain, and trying to move it sent waves of pain through him. It was probably broken. Pirvan was weaponless and injured.

"First blood," Navrip said, pointing at the tiny trickle of blood coming from Pirvan's split lip. "Care to surrender now and spare yourself further pain?"

Pirvan growled, "Never!" and charged forward. The unexpected and unorthodox method of attack made Navrip hesitate for just a moment--all Pirvan needed. Pirvan dove forward, throwing all of his weight at Navrip. The two connected with a clang. The force of Pirvan's attack knocked Navrip to the ground. Pirvan suddenly found himself in a postion of strength. A cord that ran from Navrip's neck to his shoulder seemed to pulse for a minute second. Pirvan grabbed it and pulled, causing sparks to shoot from the exposed ends. The right side of Navrip's face went slack. Pirvan held temporary hope, but Navrip's left arm shot up and gripped Pirvan's neck. The powerful MECH stood to his feet, held Pirvan aloft with one hand. He tossed Pirvan backwards. The wind flew out of Pirvan's lungs in a great whoosh.

"That wasn't very nice, brother," Navrip said, moving towards Pirvan. Pirvan rolled, trying to get in a postion to better regain his footing. He stood, seeing Navrip standing there, jamming the cord back into the socket. His flail was but a few feet away. He ran for it, but that proved unnecessary. Navrip was still fiddling with the cord, trying to replace it properly. Pirvan began to swing the flail, giving it more momentum with each revolution. Soon, it seemed to form a complete circle, it was swinging so fast. He brought the flail to bear on Navrip's exposed back. With a deafening clang, the flail head struck. Sparks shot up from the collision of metal on metal. They were so bright that Pirvan was momentarily blinded. He neither felt, saw nor heard anything for several seconds. Perhaps, he hoped, Navrip had fallen. His hope was quickly dashed. There was a warm feeling as Navrip's sword slid into Pirvan's stomach. Pirvan fell to the ground. Navrip pulled the sword from Pirvan's body as he lay on the ground.

"The wound isn't fatal...not yet, at least," he said to Pirvan. "I suggest you surrender."

Pirvan glared up at Navrip. He coughed up some blood and gritted his teeth. Struggling to his feet, he spit the blood in Navrip's face. "Not even when hell freezes over!" he cursed.

"Fool," Navrip said, shaking his head. Navrip lifted Pirvan by the throat again and threw him into Tina. The two collapsed on the ground in a heap. "You left the circle. You surrendered." Tina extracted herself from Pirvan and stood. "I suggest you take him back to the castle. He's almost dead. Consider him lucky that I want his death to be as slow and painful as possible, else I'd kill him now. And tell Oakeye I severely hope he puts up a better fight."

Tina shifted back into dragon form and, grasping Pirvan gently in one claw, took to the air. She flew back towards the castle with as much speed as she could muster. She'd report Pirvan's defeat and bring the next challenger.

***

Oakeye watched as the healers rushed to Pirvan's aid. The fight hadn't taken long. Oakeye finished off another bottle of his finest brew and smiled in satisfaction. Seeing Tina busy looking after her love, Oakeye decided not to bother her with transporting him. Mumbling a few words, he jumped over the wall and floated to the ground. As he walked to the circle where Navrip waited, Oakeye let the rage build. He fixed the torn body of Pirvan and the image of his destroyed wine cellar at the old keep in his mind, and began to growl. By the time he reached the circle, spittle was dribbling from his lips and animal noises were coming from his mouth. Oakeye was not one for ceremony. He stepped into the circle, stared Navrip in the face, and suddenly swung Alemaker with blinding speed and strength.

Navrip was prepared for the immediate attack, having seen Oakeye fight many times, but was not prepared for the inhuman strength in the swing. His sword was knocked back with a shower of sparks as the blades met, and Oakeye followed his swing with a kick to the groin. Oakeye grunted in pain as his foot struck metal and, not being in the right frame of mind at the moment, wondered what Navrip was packing down there.

Navrip took a step back, felt his interior mechanisms inject large doses of adrenaline through his body to boost his strength, and swung his evil blade at Oakeye's neck, causing Oakeye to duck, then reversed his swing and brought his sword low, preparing a high, roundhouse reverse kick using the momentum of his sword swing.

Oakeye jumped the low swing but was kicked square in the face by Navrip's metal boot. Oakeye's head turned to the side but he didn't go down. Shaking his head like a dog after getting out of water, Oakeye howled to the sky, smiled insanely, and screamed, "Hit me again, ya tin can! Thash all yash got?! I'min gonna scrip thash oogly head oofff!" Oakeye launched into a series of huge swings with Alemaker, handling the sword and reversing the direction so fast that it seemed he was using a rapier, not a sword almost as big as him. Navrip was a study of concentration: parrying, ducking, jumping, spinning, doing anything to survive one of Oakeye's outbursts of super rage. Finally, Alemaker slowed and Oakeye backed up a step. Large nicks and gauges scored Navrip's body. Sparks were coming out of little gaps. Oakeye bled from where Navrip had landed counterattacks, but neither combatant looked as if they were affected by any of the wounds. Oakeye didn't feel tired yet; he'd had plenty of time to "prepare" for this fight and his special fluids were still strong within him. This time, Navrip stepped into the attack and Oakeye gurgled in glee and stepped up to meet him as he asked calmly, "Sos wheen yas goonna mayke mes sweeate tin-can-man?"

"I'll make you sweat, old man; be rest assured, it'll be only the red kind!" Navrip growled. It was Navrip's turn to be angry. The old coot had managed to damage him! He wasn't hurt much, but the small cuts scored his body. It would take him weeks to repair them, if he survived the fight, at least. Navrip hefted his blade. He wasn't used to fighting with a non-magical weapon. It was far heavier and the balance wasn't as good, but he had adjusted quickly. Navrip rushed forward, ducking under Oakeye's first swing and sidestepping his follow-up stroke. A sword strike would take too long, as Oakeye would have a chance to easily parry it. Navrip's hand flew up and connected with Oakeye's chin, knocking the man backwards. Navrip then swung his foot in a large circle, connecting with Oakeye's ankles. Still reeling from the uppercut, the sweep kick knocked him further off balance, sending him to the ground. Navrip brought his sword above his head and swung it down in a mighty arc. The attack was too slow and Oakeye managed to roll out of the way. Navrip tried to follow up, but he found his sword firmly lodged in the ground. As Navrip tried to pull it out, Oakeye got to his feet. Oakeye swung Alemaker in a huge circle and slashed at Navrip. He barely had a chance to dance backwards. The sword still struck his hand, striking the tip of his middle finger. Black oil and sparks shot out of the severed digit. "That hurt!" Navrip screeched. Navrip hurled himself forward, his shoulder driving into Oakeye's stomach. Oakeye took the hilt of his sword and rammed it into the back of Navrip's head. The attack had little effect but to cause a ringing pain in Oakeye's hands from the shock. Navrip hurled Oakeye backwards. As Oakeye struggled to his feet, Navrip turned and grabbed his sword. He ripped it out of the ground and spun to face Oakeye. Navrip swung his sword and it connected solidly with Oakeye's. The force of the blow knocked Oakeye's guard down. Navrip was able to readjust his swing and turn it into a stab. Oakeye spun to the side and only got a cut along his hip.

Oakeye found himself in a great position; Navrip's back was wide open, as he had put much into the forward thrust. Oakeye pulled his sword back and thrust it forward. The blade penetrated Navrip's back and slid in. Had Navrip been a human, the attack would have pierced several vital organs. But Navrip was no longer human, so his vital components weren't in same spot. However, the attack sliced through some wiring.

Navrip concentrated. Thousands of volts of electricity began to flow through the wires and up into Alemaker. The electricity soon reached Oakeye. "Let's see how much that makes him sweat!" Navrip muttered. Oakeye's hair shot straight up. His body started jerking spasmodically. His eyes bulged from their sockets. His tongue whipped to and fro in his mouth. And then the shock was done. He slid his sword back out of Navrip and stood there for a moment. Navrip stared at him intently, wondering if we was going to fall over dead.

Instead, Oakeye gave Navrip a lopsided grin and hooted joyously, "Whash a ridess baabeee!!! Ish haveen't fellt thash guod in a lawng tyme!" Oakeye rushed back into battle with Navrip, his body tingling all over. Their swords ducked in and out, each looking for an opening. Oakeye swung high, only to have Navrip parry, spin and swing at his midsection. Oakeye cut his blade sharply down, deflected the counterattack, and swung his opposite leg in hopes of putting Navrip on the ground. Navrip hopped the sweeping kick and lashed out with a kick to the head as he jumped. Oakeye fell backwards into a reverse somersault and came to his feet, whipping his sword before him. Navrip, charging after the rolling Oakeye, came up hard before the rushing blade, let it pass, and then chopped diagonally down. Oakeye took a long slash along his chest but followed Navrip's attack, which left his back exposed, with a reverse thrust from his sword, pommel first. The pommel of Alemaker blasted right into the spot where Oakeye had struck Navrip when he had been electrocuted. Large cracks appeared around the slit in Navrip's body. Oakeye accepted another hit from Navrip's blade on his leg so he could score another hit of his own on the same spot with his pommel once again. The hole started to enlarge a bit more. Oakeye took another hit on the arm to once again hit the same spot with his sword's pommel. Navrip growled and sent a mighty thrust straight at Oakeye. Oakeye took the blade full in the chest, feeling it slide in right under his heart, and go out his back. Oakeye spat blood, dropped Alemaker, grabbed Navrip--who thought the battle over and was caught offguard by Oakeye's sudden release of his sword--and turned him around. Oakeye, with all his might, sent his huge, mailed fist blasting into the enlarged hole on Navrip's back. His fist blasted into the interior of Navrip's body, and Oakeye ripped forth a spaghetti-looking handful of wires and gizmos, showering himself with black and oil-smelling fluids. Navrip screeched in dismay, spun about and connected his hands on the blade still sticking in Oakeye's body. He let forth another tremendous burst of electricity, and this time Oakeye shot off the blade like an arrow, landing a full twenty feet out of the circle.

Oakeye grunted, stood up, looked at the blackened hole in his chest, cauterized by the electrical blast, and began to curse in such language as few had ever heard. He couldn't believe the no good runt had gotten him out of the circle and thereby bested him. As the adrenaline rush of battle began to leave him and the rage began to falter, Oakeye started to feel some pain. Groaning, he turned to the castle and shouted in annoyance, "Can I get some help, here? I don't even think I'm drunk anymore; seems that durn electricity burnt the stuff right out of my system. Get me a drink! Then a healer! Oh, and whoever is next, you'd better win! I had 'im! That lucky dog! Don't let him use that electrical crap again! No good--! At least he ain't in good shape no more. Where's me ale?!"

Oakbow shook his head sadly as he saw his father fly out of the circle. He had been optimistic that his father would win. The healer, laiden with much alcohol, was quickly dispatched to see to Oakeye. Oakbow then turned to Talmorr. "My friend, even if you cannot finish that monstrosity out there, do what my father did. Leave him so battered that he will have no chance against Connor and then me. Please don't take any risks and get yourself killed. I'll admit, the way that tin-can looks now, I think this is most likely a moot point. Show him what you've got, old friend." Oakbow smiled and grasped Talmorr's arm in friendship, wishing him the best.

***

Connor looked toward Unari. "Lass, come with me and bring your hammer," he said to her. Quickly, they walked to Connor's room and he took down an old sword; one with a dragon shaped pommel. "Lass, this blade has been handcrafted by the finest smith on a world called Earth. It has cut through steel and concrete and its blade was a square sheet of metal folded over five hundred times to create its strength and its lightness. Lass, put a keen edge on it for me, for I fear that I shall have to fight this lad. Be it known that I shall take his head. I have over three hundred sixty-five years of experience swordfighting. If I canna win, then who can? After all, there can be only one." Connor smiled as Unari, who was very close to him now, took the blade given to him by Juan Sanchez Villa-Lobos Ramirez, chief metallurgist to King Charles V of Spain. "What a Spanish peacock he had been," Connor mused, not realizing he had said anything out loud.

When Unari took the blade, she found that, indeed, it was as light as Connor had said. The blade was fine and sharp already. She marveled at the craftsmanship of the whole and wondered if she dared try and improve on the sword's perfection. "Lord Connor, 'Nari canna see how--"

"Unari," Connor interrupted, "ye are a most capable smith. There be no doubt about it. Now, my life rests in the blade in your hands. Hone it for me, for LoK, lass."

Unari nodded and took her leave, speaking the words that would bring the cold nothing and deliver her and the precious instrument to the family forge nearby, all the while wondering what by Reorx was a spanish peacock. Unari entered the forge reverently, her mind already on her task. She ran a pair of pinched fingers down the length of the blade, their touch leaving the metal a slightly glowing red, ready for the work to be done. At first, passers-by could only hear an earthy hum; then, the sound of the grindstone added its timbre. The eerie song grew, punctuated by the crackle and snap of the forge, growing,

floating to the heavens like a prayer of supplication to some ancient god. Finally, drained emotionally and physically from the fervor of crafting, Unari regarded her work. The blade shone like a star in the midnight heavens in the dark forge, its edge keen and silken to the very tip. The young smith appeared again before Lord Conner, visibly tired and with a curious red-tinged shine to her eyes. "My Lord, 'tis th' best 'Nari has yet ta do," she said. Reverently, she laid the weapon on a close table while the song in the forge echoed silently.

"'Tis a wonderous job ye did, lass. It hasn't shined like that in ages. I thank ye dearly. Surely, thy touch has blessed this weapon. With it, I shall defeat Navrip."

***

Navrip felt the jagged hole in his back with his hands. Oakeye had done a great deal of damage. "The old drunk got very lucky," Navrip said, "but not lucky enough." He looked at the wires, capacitors, transistors, and resistors laying on the ground. He picked through them, looking for any that appeared vital. There were none. The lost wires and components were neccessary for a few of his weapons systems, but he wasn't planning on using those, anyway. His reflexes would be slowed and he would use up energy faster, but that wouldn't be much of a problem. It was the electrical blasts that had drained him the most. They had used up a large amount of his energy reserves. Navrip pulled out a bottle of liquid energy and swallowed it down. He was revitalized somewhat, but he was nowhere near full power. His next opponent was Talmorr. Things didn't look good for the future. "Takhisis, give me luck," Navrip whispered as the very man approached.

Stepping forth into the circle, Talmorr eyed Navrip. The metal monstrosity had bested Pirvan. To be expected. But he had defeated Oakeye, a foe not to be underestimated. The two circled each other warily, their eyes never leaving each other. With an inhuman cry, Talmorr lunged forward, swinging his two handed sword in a large arc.

Ducking forward, Navrip dodged and thrusted forward where Talmorr's body should have been. "Huh? What?" was all he managed to say as his sword whistled through empty air. Out of the corner of his eye he saw movement. He barely dodged out of the way of a blow meant for his skull, and grunted as a sword pommel smashed into his left eye. Navrip fell back. It seemed impossible that Talmorr had moved that fast. Navrip's vision was blurred; his left eye was damaged. He shut it, as it would just make fighting harder, keeping it open. Talmorr charged again. He was fighting foolheartedly and was nowhere near as skilled at that as Oakeye was. Navrip spun to the side and, without looking, stabbed at where Talmorr should have been. Again, he met nothing but open air. Talmorr swung his sword and, with a shower of sparks, it hit Navrip, making a deep gouge in his skin. Luckily, it had hit a thick part of Navrip's shielding, and hadn't penetrated any vital circuits. Again, Talmorr attacked. Navrip met the attack and found it easy to counter. Yet, he was forced to take his eyes off of Talmorr for an instant to enact the counter, upon doing which he struck--only to find Talmorr not there. Talmorr hit Navrip again. Navrip fell back and lowered his sword, holding his hand out, palm facing Talmorr. "Halt!" he barked to Talmorr. "Explain this! There is no way that you could move that fast naturally! I can't do it, and I have super-human reflexes and speed, even as damaged as I am. I ask you, Talmorr, on our honor as knights: Are you using magic to aid yourself in this battle in any way?"

Stepping back, Talmorr considered Navrip's words. To him, Navrip had seemed rather slow, but Tal had considered that to be the after-effects of his battle with Oak. Looking around, he realized everyone seemed somewhat slower. "Upon my honor as a knight, Navrip, I am not using magic to aid myself; but yet I find myself strangely fast..." Stopping suddenly, Tal glanced at his sword, the one that Paladine had given to him. Stepping further back, Talmorr set the sword on the ground. Everyone stared in shock at that. Looking around at the spectators, he picked it back up. Navrip had not moved one bit and was merely looking at Talmorr. "I am not knowingly using magic to aid myself, but that is no excuse. I have dishonored myself. I should have questioned the powers of this sword before stepping in to face you." Sheathing his sword, Talmorr turned around and walked out of the circle, back towards to castle, his eyes never looking back.

Navrip stared after Talmorr. "Talmorr!" he called. Talmorr turned around. "Of all those that have faced me, you by far have been the most worthy. You have more honor than any other I know. I shall miss the opportunity to face you. Perhaps some other time." Navrip saluted the knight, who saluted back. Talmorr turned back around and headed for the castle. There went a man that was truly great. If I survive the challenge of seven, I will be sure to honor Talmorr as a great hero, even though he did little to me. Navrip felt shamed to let him leave without actually facing him, but he wasn't stupid. Navrip wouldn't have asked Talmorr to forfeit, but he wouldn't refuse an offer freely given. With one less fighter to face, Navrip's chances greatly increased. Navrip was still drained, however. His next opponent, according to what he had been told, was Connor. Connor was a better fighter than Talmorr, Navrip knew. While he waited for Connor to arrive, Navrip did a scan on his eye. It was beyond immediate repair. Navrip took a piece of cloth and covered it up, so he wouldn't have to concentrate on keeping it shut. Spotting his reflection in his sword, Navrip noticed he looked much worse than he felt. Hopefully, Connor would underestimate him and Navrip would gain the upper hand.

***

Sounding more like the wind whispering than a voice, the shadowy figure spoke to an underling. "Mind yeself, dolt! Ye makes more noise than a cart missing half its wheels! We be not ready to reveal ourselves to those that battle below."

The hunched one quivered a reply. "Yesss, sssir. I be doin' me besss to bees quiets. I nowanna dissspleassse ye, massster."

"Indeed, ye shall not displease me, else you be entin' up as one o' dem. Now, ye watch dem careful-like, soes we knowst their weaknesses." The two figures were tucked back in the shadows of a ridge overseeing the battle circle. They could see rather well the combat below, but only a trained eye specifically looking for them would detect their presence. The battle, if the rules were understood correctly, was nearly half over. The large one had already sent away three that opposed him. A true talent with a sword, even if he wasn't truly a man. Their goal was not to attack or even to disrupt the contestants. They were there on a mission to gather information. But information to aid what purpose? Only time would tell, if indeed there was much time left.

***

The call came, much to the Ranger Lord's dismay. One minute, he was standing in his room in the keep, the next he was in the forest amid the creatures there. He looked around in confusion, looking for the one he knew had called him. Finally, he spotted her. The unicorn that was Melikki spoke.

"Connor, I do not fear that you can not beat Navrip, but things must transpire before you fight. Somthing must be shown to thee that has been hidden ere so long."

Connor's eyes betrayed his fear. "Will someone get hurt?" he asked in dread.

Melikki answered, her eyes sad. "None worse than thee, Ranger Lord. None worse than thee."

Connor growled. "Good; the pain I can take, but spare those about me." Melikki shed a single tear at Connor's words. Connor found himself back in his room.

***

Stepping out of the infirmary, Nic shook his head in wonder. He said to himself, "I don't get it. Give Oakeye a healing draught and he comes close to gagging; give him some ale and he perks right up. The Oaks have a very strange metabolism. At least both Pirvan and Oakeye will recover, though Oakeye's dignity is suffering. Ah, well. Now, Talmorr leaves the field defeated by his own ignorance of the blade he wielded. Not his fault, however, though I know he blames himself. And now it is Lord Connor's turn. I didn't think it would go this far. And I know Connor won't walk out of that circle unless he is victorious or dead. I pray the latter does not come to pass. Melikki watch over him." Nic went on up to the battlements to watch as his friend and mentor went out to do battle with the metal monstrosity. "Maybe it'll rain and he'll short out." Smiling at this thought, Nic continued his ascent.

***

As Oakbow watched Connor stride out to meet Navrip and begin the fourth round, he began to focus. He felt his blade at his side and became one with the metal. All his training flowed into him and he felt his whole body become a weapon. Oakbow had been born for combat. Everything his father lacked, he had. If Connor fell, and he did not see how yet another could fall to Navrip, especially one such as Connor, then Oakbow would not fall. He looked at Unari, and at Tina standing near her. No, he would not fall. Navrip would not get past round five.

Connor strode upon the field. He was walking toward the battle circle, grimly determined to defeat Navrip, as he was sure he would. Then, in a flash, he was not there any more. A white pegasus appeared to Oakbow.

"The next fighter, numbered six, must be fifth instead of Connor. This is ordained. All else will be made right after this," it said to him. It then disappeared, leaving Oakbow to ponder the meaning of its message.

The Lord of the Green stood, frozen upon the field, watching as the Oak clentched his fists in decision. Connor could do nothing but stare at the circle and wonder who the next fighter after him was. Why could he not remember? Why must they change places? For once, the ranger did not understand the ways of his chosen goddess.

Oakbow scowled in dismay. He wanted to see no more of his brethren fall to that monster out there, but the goddess had issued her command and he was not in the habit of defying direct commands from the gods. Still scowling in dismay, Oakbow whispered sadly, "As you wish, Melikki. Unari shall proceed me, and I shall go sixth." With that, all eyes turned to the battle about to begin.

***

Nicodarious didn't like what he had just heard. Melikki had just told them that the order of battle must be changed or else all they do here was for nothing. Did this mean that Lord Connor was destined to lose this battle? This was not a pleasant thought. Racing through the halls of the castle, Nicodarious went to his new study and snatched up a resurrection scroll and headed out to where the battle was about to commence. Arriving just before battle began, Nicodarious explained his presence to the scowling and distrusting Navrip. "I'm merely here to insure that if Connor falls, which is quite unthinkable, he will continue to live. On the other hand, should you fall, since I don't know anything about…well…whatever it is that you are, I'm afraid your demise will be quite permanent." Nodding to Connor, Nic said, "Vanquish him quickly, m'lord. I do believe that the Oaks are growing impatient to open the cask of celebratory ale."

Connor said to Nic, "I'm afraid I can't fight him yet, lad. Melikki's ordered me to fight last, and Oakbow has agreed to her request. Unari, himself and Tina shall fight first."

Navrip grinned. "Is the Ranger Lord afraid of death? I wish no one to die, but if the fight comes to that, there will be no ressurection as long as he remains in the circle, understand that. If I kill him, he remains dead until I throw him outside the circle. You try to ressurect him before, and I kill you in repayment."

Nic started to say something, but he was silenced as Unari stepped into the circle.

"Ah, little woman. You should have come after Pirvan; you would've been a good warm-up. And I really hope that little mace of yours isn't magical, else I'm afraid you've already lost. It would be a shame to lose two fighters to illegal magic use."

"Ye shouldn't discount me, Navrip. Ye may think that I am narry a challenge, but I'll show ye that I have a spark in my soul that will allow me to defeat you."

Navrip laughed. "Hehe. You think that you even have a chance of defeating me? Think again, young one. Back out now, else I'll have to hurt you."

Unari didn't budge from the circle. Navrip grinned. He stepped forward, blocking an overhand smash from Unari's mace easily. He punched her in the face, knocking her backward. She rolled to her feet, only to be knocked to the ground by a spinning kick from Navrip. She was able to regain her footing and avoid being knocked down, but Navrip slashed open her hip with a sword strike. "Ready to surrender?" Navrip asked.

Unari fingered the cut and brought the finger to her lips to taste her own sweet blood. "Nay, ol' man, iffn man ye truly be. From th' looks o'ye, 'Nari doubts it. But ye'll make a fine suit o' armor!" Crouching low, she circled Navrip and started swinging the mace in tight, fast circles before her.

Navrip laughed. "Just one? Surely you're a better smith than that!"

"Aye," she said. "Too bad ye won't be alive ta know." With her last word, Unari aimed and hit a knee joint solidly, leaving a very visible, very large dent.

The knee was damaged, barely usable, and those kicks were going to be fewer and farther between. Suddenly, Navrip wasn't smiling so much any more and the mace began its circling again. The young smith was a lot stronger than she looked, even for her height, and with the force of the swing added to it, she was hitting even harder. And her eyes…that curious red glow. Why did they literally shine like that? Navrip waited and watched as the pair slowly walked around each other in the circle. He knew she would let the mace strike again, and was likely to hit the same spot. That he couldn't allow. No, indeed; that would never do. His mind raced with possibilities, discarding one counter after the other. Then, he knew how to get past the mace. Navrip cringed as he shifted his weight. The knee was sorely damaged and would not be easy to repair. His injuries were piling up. Soon, he would be unable to continue. Unari started swinging the mace again. Navrip had to act fast. Navrip leapt forward, hurtling towards Unari. His hand wrapped around the handle of the mace. But as Navrip landed, his knee buckled from under him. His grip on the mace remained strong, however, and he ripped the mace from Unari's hand. Navrip rolled away and pushed himself to his feet as Unari stood, stunned by what had just happened. "I've got your toy now, Unari. Let's see what you can do to me now." Navrip flung the mace to the ground and, with a swipe of his sword, cut the mace's handle in two. Navrip turned to Connor, and sneered. "I'll have fun with her, Connor. But once I'm done with her, I don't think she'll look pretty enough for you to have any." Navrip advanced and swung his sword at Unari. She ducked it, but ended up with a knee in the face. Navrip grimmaced; he'd raised his damaged knee and the impact damaged it further. Unari was down, however. "This is for the knee!" he sneered. He brought his good foot down on Unari's knee, and there was a sick crack as the knee snapped in two.

"I surren--" Unari started to say, but Navrip's foot slamed into her stomach, keeping her from speaking further.

"Oh, no; you're not getting out that easily!" Navrip said to her. He planned to hurt her, but not kill her. Navrip was angry at all the damaged caused him, and the sudden shift in the order of combat did not please him.

Reorx it hurt! The knee was broken. Pain coursing up and down her leg was proof enough, even if Unari hadn't heard it snap in two. She opened her eyes to black and stars, fighting down bile. "Not th' lil' one now, eh?" she rasped. "Honorable my--OOF!!!" Another stomp on her stomach cut her words short. It didn't hurt as bad as the leg, but she'd had time enough to orient herself once more. At least the pain made her aware of where she was and that she was still alive. That was all that counted. Unari looked up through her clearing sight to see Navrip standing over her, his hurt knee dangerously close. Exposed components hummed with power. Just beyond Navrip she saw the broken mace laying in pieces on the ground.

"Do you hurt enough, now? Or do I stomp you again?" Navrip acidly jeered.

Watching his beloved being unmercifully punished tore at the Ranger Lord. Tears welled in his eyes as he was held by his goddess in her strange grasp. Loss and fear clawed at his very essence. Then, he watched in horror as Unari took punishment after punishment. She was a ranger and this was her right, but the question, Why? was upon his mind.

Unari coughed and glanced up again as an idea fixed in her mind. "Hurt? NAAAHHH!!!" The foot crashed into her again, harder, and her arms flew up to cover her face. She made a tight grab at the knee's innards. Instinctively, she rolled, pulling hard at her small handful of wire and metal, taking a surprised Navrip down to her level. One more complete roll and she was laying on the mace's handle. "'Nari was content ta get th' one good hit, but iffn ye want a fight, then 'tis a fight ye'll get." Both fighters stood shakily. Unari coughed again and tasted blood.

"I'll beat you to a pulp, little smith!" Navrip swore. Navrip and Unari lunged, as if on cue, and met in the middle of the circle. Neither was able to stand properly, and Unari fell first, with Navrip's sword slashing her side deeply. The combatants rolled together, blood all around. Quickly, she planted the handle hard vertically against the ground, rolled Navrip on top of it, and then let go to roll over onto her back. She was finding it hard to move or breathe while the world threatened to go black again. Unari slowly rolled again as her tormentor stalked her. The sword in his hand suddenly loomed large and terrifyingly close. Navrip was oblivious to the mace handle embedded in his shoulder. The sword's edge nicked her thigh. "En--" she began in a whisper, all the while slowly dragging herself towards the edge of the circle on her elbows. Navrip slashed again and a new cut on Unari's arm bled freely. "'Nari said en--" Another slash to the calf and to the hip. Navrip grinned evilly and made a motion to slash at her again, but he found Unari's hand wrapped around the blade. She was defending herself strictly by instinct, heedless of anything else but the drive to survive at this point. Pure adrenaline rushed through her as she pulled the sword free and threw it. "I SAID ENO'!" Unari's eyes flashed crimson, and a small stand of trees mere yards outside the circle exploded into brilliant flame. No words of power had been spoken, no scrolls read, but Unari's hands were afire, giving evidence as to where the explosion had come from. Neither did her hands seem to burn. "No! Reorx, no!" Wincing in pain, she gasped weakly in the stunned silence. "Did ye not think that Reorx would protect 'is own? 'is last?" Only a single pair of ears could hear Unari's last word before she mercifully passed out, her head landing outside the circle. "Connor…"

***

The word came, and the smith fell as the Ranger Lord was released. The power of the words spoken were enough to shake the very trees. "Navrip enough!" The MECH stopped as the Ranger Lord gathered the broken body of the smith in his arms. Murmuring a quick spell outside the circle, Connor disappeared for a quick second, reappearing in front of Nic with Unari's body. "Take care of her, old friend, and tell Oakbow it stops here and now."

"Of course, m'lo--" Nic started to reply, but looking up he saw that Connor was already gone.

With a quickness fueled by fury, Connor ran to the front of the circle in a normal suit of armor, with a normal sword, no magic of any kind about him. "I am Connor Maceloud, of the Clan Maceloud. Born in Scotland on the shores of Loch Shiel!" Connor declared. "You, my friend, are now involved in The Gathering. Defend thyself!" Connor stepped into the circle, sword raised in the guard position. Three hundred seventy-five years of swordfighing ability joined him along with one purpose: to stop Navrip at any cost.

Looking down at Unari's tortured body, Nicodarious quickly cast his healing magic. "In Vas Mani," he whisperd. Words said much too often, as of late, he thought. Unari started to breathe easier as the spell took effect. Again, Nic cast his magic and the healing took more effect, knitting broken bones and mending torn flesh. Helping her to a bed in the infirmary, Nic begged Unari to rest. Unari protested.

"Nay; I will stand by m'lord Connor, as he stood by me." Struggling against Nic, Unari didn't gain any ground, for she was still weak from the battle despite the healing.

"You will rest here. Orders from the Healer. I will watch over Connor and be sure all goes accordingly." Finally, Unari succumbed to exhaustion and went into a light, fitful sleep. Going over to Oakbow, who was watching the fight about to commence, Nic asked, "Aren't you supposed to be in there? Melikki said if the order of battle was broken, then all of this is for nothing."

Oak looked back at Nic and said, "I know lad, I know. But the battle is already joined. Just pray Connor is the victor."

Navrip stood there, facing Connor. There was fire in the man's eyes. Navrip suddenly realized that he had made a huge mistake in treating Unari so dishonorably; but he wasn't going to let another shift in the order be allowed. "Out of the circle, Connor," Navrip said, pointing away with his sword.

"Nay, lad. I shan't go. It is you who will leave, but in pieces!" Connor spat. He flew forward with incredible speed, aiming a shot at Navrip's midsection.

Navrip turned aside. He was fast, but Navrip's reflexes were faster. He could have counterattacked, but he didn't. "I said out of the circle, Connor! I'll have no more switching of the order. I allowed the first switch because it was a goddess who had requested it! You score a single scratch on me and you'll be disqualified! You resist, and I'll have my army capture you. You're strong, but you can't defeat over four thousand men!"

Connor fumed. He realized Navrip was right, but he was aching for revenge. If he went last, as Melikki had ordered, he'd have to go after Oakbow. Oakbow would surely defeat Navrip, and Connor wanted to thrash him badly.

"Out, Connor. Leave and face me later, or attack me now like a vengeful coward. Which is it?" Navrip asked.

Without so much as a word, the Ranger Lord drew up short. After a moment, he said, "Okay, lad; you'll have your time to relent and perhaps fall to Oakbow or Tina. But here," he said, tossing Navrip a milky looking potion. "If you survive the battles with Tina and Oakbow, then drink that, as it will have many beneficial effects upon you. I wish to have you in best condition for when we next meet, Navrip, and I care for the balance. But know this: when I next step into this circle, it will spell thy doom." Connor teleported away, in the transit recovering all the items he had lost, and appeared just beside Oakbow. "Fight him," he said to Oakbow. "Go on, but by Melikki's words, if thee can find it in thy heart as one ranger to another, allow me a chance." With these words, Connor rushed down the hall to Unari's room, not even waiting for Oak's response.

Oakbow watched Connor go, and sighed. He turned sadly to Tina and spoke, miserable, "I must heed the word of the goddess. I am to go sixth, my dear Tina. Your turn has now arisen. Take care of yourself, lass, and, please, do not rush in foolishly and let harm befall you. Know that Connor and I come after you, and if you see no chance, step into the circle and step out. You know as well as Navrip does that swordplay is not your forte', and there is no shame in avoiding a meaningless end to your life. Navrip has become bloodthirsty, and I do not want to see your broken body dragged out like Unari's. Whatever you do, lass, my prayers are with you and I wish you the best."

***

Connor stormed into the Ranger Healer's area. "Nic!" he shouted. "How is Unari? Will she be okay? Tell me lad--now!"

"Shh." Nic motioned for Connor to keep his voice down. "She will be fine, m'lord, as long as she gets some rest--which will not happen with you barging in here, yelling at the top of your lungs. You got her to me barely in time, but she is doing well. She is a strong lady and there will be no permanent damage. I'm happy to see you came to your senses enough to return to the proper order of battle as Melikki stated. Now, if you promise to keep it down, you may sit by her and soothe her with your presence. It was all I could do to keep her here, as she wanted to be by your side during your battle. She speaks your name occasionally during her rest. Go hold her hand, but try not to wake her. I'm going out to the circle to watch over the battle and try to make sure this does not happen to Tina as well."

So saying, Nic headed out while Connor walked over to where Unari lay, sadness and anger at war within in his eyes. "You will pay dearly for this, Navrip. On that you have my word." Connor vowed to himself as he sat next to his beloved and awaited the next battle's outcome.

***

Tina planned to heed Oakbow's words. She would be careful. She didn't plan to step in and out, but she wouldn't be adverse to getting out if she were in danger.

"Ah," Navrip said as Tina approached, "the little wife is here. Let's see. Shall I leave you like Unari? Nah; too predictable. How bout I--"

"Shut up!" Tina cut him off. "You mutilate my husband, then you abuse Unari! You'll pay for this, Navrip! You said no magic, right? Well, this body here," she said with a quick pivot, "is magic. Face the non-magical me and see how you fare!" Navrip watched as Tina transformed. Her form melted and expanded to become a huge dragon. "Not so cocky now, little tin man, are you?" she said with a growl.

Navrip smiled. "Hehe, I could care less. Step in the circle," he said.

Tina did so. There was little room to maneuver, as she was so large, but she would be able to launch a mighty attack. "Begin," she said. Tina swiped with her huge claw. Navrip jumped over it. In fact, he jumped very high, using his pneumatic legs to spring him high above her head. Tina looked up, trying to spot him and catch him in her jaws. Suddenly, she felt a huge weight strike her back. Navrip had landed there. He plunged his sword deep into her spine. Tina let out a roar and beat her wings, trying to knock him off, but it was to no avail. He only dug his sword in deeper. He pulled the sword down, through her spinal cord. Vertabrae popped as they were sliced in two. The pain was unimaginable. Tina let out a bellow and lost all control of her senses. She took to the air and flipped over. Navrip fell off, still clutching his sword. He fell quite a ways, striking the ground with great force. Tina, in her pain-induced rage, had left the circle. Navrip was damaged further, but not as much as he could have been. Tina cursed herself. She should have done better. It was as if something besides the pain had caused her to go out of control.

Nicodarious ran over to where Tina had fallen and cast his healing magic once again. He was glad to see she was not as hurt as the others. He was also sorry to see Navrip didn't suffer as much as he should have. "I don't think you even need to spend time in the infirmary," Nic told Tina. "Feel free to watch as Oakbow knocks that tin can around, some."

Tina smiled at him. "Thanks, but I'd rather sit with my husband. He's hurt severely, and it would do good for him to see I'm not badly hurt." Nic nodded and turned to face the battle as Tina left to wait with Pirvan.

Navrip stood up shakily. The fall had hurt him more than he thought it would. Under normal circumstances he would barely have felt it, but as damaged as he was, it was bad. "Great. Five down, two to go," Navrip muttered. He tried to use it as inspiration, but it didn't really help. His next two opponents were Oakbow, the guildmaster and probably most powerful LoK alive, and Connor, undoubtedly the best swordsman in LoK. Just as things were looking up, they were looking down as well.

***

Unari tossed restlessly in the bed as Connor stood watch. She was young and strong, as Nicodarious had said. The young most always healed well, but it was going too slow, it seemed. Her face had no color, and every now and again she trembled as if she were cold, even though the room was unusually warm.

"Connor, I failed ye," she said once, in her sleep.

"Nay, lass, ye didn't," Connor had whispered.

Another time she bolted upright in the bed and grabbed at her knee, obviously reliving her encounter with Navrip.

"Lord Connor?" A messenger had come with news.

"Aye?"

"Tina is down. She is hurt, but not badly, according to the healers. She will be fine in no time."

"Good, then. You're dismissed, and thank ye." He turned back to Unari just in time to hear her speak plainly for the first time since her battle.

"Healer, why is it so cold in here?"

In response, the braziers at the corners of the bed flared to life, as did the fireplace. Connor was startled, but then thought it standed to reason that smiths lived their lives in the blast of a forge, and with her recent display of ability…He sat and took her hand again, noticing she wasn't shivering as much. The skin temperature was climbing, too. A few moments later there was some color to her overall palor. Connor finally relaxed a bit, reassured. Unari was going to be fine.

***

Soth and Dark Legion squared off against each other in the Abyss as Takhisis looked on in anticipation of who would prove to be worthy of her attention. She no longer looked overweight. They had been summoning their inner strength for what seemed like weeks. Then, in one swift move, they released all of their power in one powerful blow: Soth with his sword and Dark Legion with his mace. Soth's sword arced overhead as Dark Legion's mace mirrored

its movement. Dark Legion's mace buried itself into Lord Soth's chest as his sword made contact with his breastplate. The ancient Solamnic sword fell limply to the ground as Soth's body collapsed into a rubble. Upon further observation, there was nothing of Lord Soth except the metal husk of his armor. The man behind the armor, or rather what was left of that man, was gone. There was a gaping hole in Soth's breastplate. Dark Legion stood proud over the metallic carapace and let his boot crush the helmet of the dark knight into a twisted shape. He picked up the helmet as a testament of his victory and bowed before his dark queen, Takhisis. The dark lady applauded his victory and beckoned him to her audience. "You have proven to me that you are a champion of my cause and a loyal servant. Therefore, I shall entrust you with the future leader of the Knights of Takhisis and ruler of all." She handed him a basket draped in a black velvet blanket. "You are to be his protector and mentor, Dark Legion. Teach him the ways of Takhisis, for he will grow at what you will perceive as astonishing."

Dark Legion took the basket. He moved the blanket and looked into the eyes of a baby. "My Queen, what is the babe's name?"

Takhisis' fingers caressed the baby's face. "I kept with his father's family traditions. I named him Oakhisis..."

***

Oakbow did a last check on all of his equipment. He had no wish to suffer Talmorr's fate. His incredibly powerful armor and weapon were locked up in his room. All his trinkets and items of power had been discarded. He now wore the finest non-magical armor available, crafted by the caring hands of Unari and Elrick, the renowned smiths of LoK. His sword was a beautiful work of art, also a deadly weapon of destruction. As Oakbow walked from the castle to the circle, his mind became focused on the battle ahead. He had been born for combat, mastering every form of it since he took his first breath. He was a special Oak. Along with the incredible strength and born fighting skill, rage-inspired beserk ability, complete lack of fear, and amazing agility, Oakbow had a mind as sharp as any sword. He had seen the faces of his father, Pirvan, Unari and Tina as Navrip inflicted pain upon them. He felt the rage boil within his soul. Connor was out of luck. He could not let this abomination win. Oakbow planned to utterly destroy the metal giant. This would be his first combat action since his appointment to the mantle of guildmaster. He'd been feeling strange ever since the ceremony and his encounter with Paladine. He still was not sure what to make of it and, for some reason he could not place, his strange feelings were making him uneasy now as he prepared to fight Navrip. He had a bad feeling in the back of his mind, which his building rage could not erase. Then he was in the circle. He forgot about his unease, and became a pure fighting machine. It was time to show this tin-can what the leader of LoK was capable of.

Navrip circled Oakbow slowly. His limp was noticeable and his left eye was still bandaged up. Oakbow would surely defeat him. The potion Connor had given him would be no help. Navrip decided to go out in a blaze of glory. He charged in, swinging his sword at Oakbow. Oak stepped aside and slashed Navrip across the side. Navrip made a reverse stroke, which he was sure would hit Oakbow, but again the GM dodged it and counter-attacked. It continued like this for several minutes, with Navrip scoring no hits and Oakbow making numerous small wounds.

"Surrender," Oakbow said, knowing full well Navrip wouldn't.

"Never!" Navrip said, charging in.

Oakbow stabbed at Navrip. Navrip continued rushing forward, allowing himself to become impaled on a non-vital part of his body. The move startled Oakbow, who wasn't used to having opponents impale themselves. Navrip grabbed his opponent around the waist and lifted. His knee buckled from under him, but Oakbow's back was slammed into the ground with incredible force. Both combatants rolled to their feet. Navrip stood up shakily, while Oakbow was firmer. Oakbow's sword was still stuck in Navrip's body. Navrip pulled it out and threw it outside of the circle.

"Hehe, no weapon now, eh?" Navrip wheezed out. He suddenly doubled over in pain. It appeared that Oakbow's sword had stuck something important. Wires fused together as an electrical current surged through him.

Oakbow took the opportunity to move in and lash out at Navrip's knee. The force of the armored boot caused Navrip's knee to crack and pop. His leg buckled out from under him. Oakbow's best chance now would be to get Navrip's sword and use it against him. Navrip fell, but he clutched his sword to him. Oakbow tried to grab the hilt of the sword and wrench it away. Navrip's arms were still strong, however. He pushed the sword forward, trying to run Oakbow through. Oak spun away, thinking Navrip wouldn't be able to do anything to harm him. He was wrong, however. Navrip couldn't strike with his sword, but he could grab Oakbow again. He put Oak in a sleeper hold, keeping the blood from circulating. Oak elbowed Navrip, trying to break away. The blow was forceful and opened up more cracks in his metal body. Navrip didn't let go, however. Oakbow hit again, but this attack was less forceful; the loss of blood to his brain was severely hampering him.

Suddenly, a hum began to fill the air. Navrip ignored it at first, continuing to concentrate on maintaining his hold. Oakbow's strikes were getting less and less forceful. Then Navrip realized the hum was coming from Oakbow. "What in Takhisis' name?" he asked. Oakbow's elbow smashed into stomach again, this time accompanied by a crackle of energy. Navrip flew backwards, flying nearly fifty feet backwards, slamming into a tree outside of the circle. His broken body slumped down, smoke rising from it.

Oakbow, revitalized, looked at Navrip.

There was momentary silence as everyone tried to take this sudden change of events in. Then, someone called out from Navrip's army, "He used magic!"

"Dammit!" Oakbow swore. "What in the Abyss was that?" he asked to no one in particular.

"It was my protection, my son," said a voice behind Oakbow.

Oakbow spun around, coming face to face with Fizban. "Paladine!" Oakbow said with reverence.

"Yes. I'm sorry my son, but I had to make sure that you weren't killed. If you had been..."

"But I was going to defeat him. He was almost finished when I stepped in the circle!" Oakbow said in shock.

"You were weakening. Your blows were becoming weaker and weaker. Navrip would have choked the life out of you!" Fizban said.

"I wasn't weakening. It was a ploy to get Navrip to loosen his grip. I was far from passing out, Paladine. If I'd had only a few more moments, I would have broken the grip and been able to defeat him. Now I've lost by disqualification," Oak said sadly. They turned their eyes to Navrip. He still wasn't moving.

"It seems that you may have destroyed him nonetheless," Fizban said.

"Yes, but I did it against the rules. Navrip's army will probably attack. I wanted to avoid that--"

He was cut off by a menacing laugh. Navrip's arm moved weakly. In his grasp was a milky white potion, the one Connor had given him. It moved up to his mouth and he poured it in weakly. Most of it dribbled out in the beginning, but the potion soon restored Navrip. He began to gulp it down. As he finished it off, the largest cracks in his body finished closing. He stood up. "Bad move, Paladine. I was about to let go of him; I thought he was finished. He probably would have finished me off easily, then. Too bad. Now I'm at full strength, and all I have to do is fight Connor."

"Justice shall be served," Fizban said, seconds before he dissapeared.

"Next opponent," Navrip said with an evil grin. Oakbow stepped out of the circle in disgust. He hoped Connor would be able to defeat Navrip at full strength.

Navrip turned away and breathed a sigh, but not of relief. For all his boasting, he had expected to have been killed in that fight. Now he had to fight a very pissed off Connor.

***

Connor released Unari's hand. "It is time," he said. With these few words, the ranger strode to the battlements and passed through the gates. Walking towards the circle, he passed by Oak, without a word, as silent and quick as a whisper. Connor dropped his magical items in a pile at the edge of the circle, leaving armor and such at the very edge. He strode into the circle, wielding nothing other than his sword and wearing just a shirt and a kilt.

Navrip smiled. "Ready to feel my blade, Ranger Lord, and follow your friends?" he boasted. He tried to seem as confident as possible, to throw the ranger off.

Connor's face betrayed nothing; no rage, no emotion, just cold dedication. "I am Connor Maceloud of the Clan Maceloud, and my time is now," he said. With these word the ranger, in a move inhumanly quick, struck with blinding speed.

Navrip, almost too slow to parry, brought his sword up just in time and met the thrust of the Ranger Lord. Then, lighting struck and coursed through the metal knight; joules and joules of it arcing through his body. Navrip screamed and broke the fast parry. "Magic! You are using magic!"

Connor smiled briefly. "Nay, metal knight," he said. "Now you know that I am the last immortal on this plane. Therefore, my life force is attuned to my body. Such is the power of that which we call The Quickening." Again, the ranger struck and the power of his life force followed the swift calculated movements of his sword. A thrust reversed, then quickly twisted, Connor moved aside. A quick Roman thrust then brought back with a Spanish slice and an Orential Kai Ie. Then Navrip's hand was gashed.

Connor was coming for him and nothing could stop this now! The Ranger Lord was playing dirty. He was using his natural magic to fight Navrip. Navrip had expected this from Oakeye and had acted accordingly, but not Connor. He had expected more honor from Connor. The lightning continually struck whenever the blades of the two combatants met. Navrip, however, returned the shocks. He sent jolts of energy through his hands. They coursed through his blade and shocked the Lord of the Green. Finally, the air sizzled with energy and both combatants fell apart. "Let's cease this foolishness, Connor," Navrip said. "Natural ability or otherwise, it's still dirty, and neither of us need that to win. Sword skill to sword skill now. Alright, Connor?"

"Aye lad. I need no lightning to beat ye. Swordsman to swordsman."

Navrip advanced, striking out with a reverse slash. Connor parried and Navrip forced his blade back. He stabbed out and scored a minor slash on Connor's hip. Connor slashed out then stabbed forward when Navrip jumped back. Navrip sidestepped the stab and sliced with his sword. Connor spun away, narrowly avoiding the strike and lashing out with his sword at the same time. Navrip's sword met the attack and turned Connor's sword away. Neither combatant had been able to gain much of an advantage, and both were still fresh. This looked to be the makings of a long match.

***

The young woman paced back and forth. As her wounds healed, Unari's need for sleep lessened until she woke completely. Wracked by indecision, she watched as Connor's turn at battle continued below. Should she go watch with the others? Stay? Her training, while nothing compared to most rangers, would surely be enough to allow her to slip past the novice healer now tending to her. But the one question she did not want to face still remained. What was the greater thing to lose? Connor or the whole of LoK? That was the one thing she had to decide as the two fighters faced off yet again.

***

Slipping deftly to the side, the ranger moved. With a fast twirl of his blade, taking in Navrip's overextended reach, the Ranger Lord spun off to the left shoulder of Navrip and drove his body forward, spinning around the dark knight with blinding speed. The ranger was back to back with him for a split second, which was all that was needed. Connor drove the time forged blade back through the area where a human would have kidneys, then just as quickly wrenched the blade free and righted himself for the next blow. Watching Navrip and having felt the MECHs strength, he knew it would not be long in coming. Navrip swung his sword at the Ranger Lord with all of his might. The strength of the blow knocked the ranger's sword down. Navrip followed up, stabbing Connor in the shoulder. Connor jumped back, and blood gushed out of the wound. He began to bob and weave around. Navrip swung at him, but he couldn't get his sword near the ranger. The attack to the kidneys had managed to strike Navrip's aiming system, and it left him lacking in fighting prowess. Connor slashed out at Navrip. Navrip took a slice across the arm, a cut on the leg, a wound on the face. Navrip couldn't land a return blow. This went on for many minutes.

Navrip was exhausted. Connor had bested him; he could see that. The numerous wounds across his body were mute testimony to the skill of the Ranger Lord. Navrip had returned a few blows, but not nearly as many as Connor had inflicted. But Navrip would not surrender, no matter what. He'd fight to the finish.

Connor saw Navrip was finished. There would be no stopping him now. He moved in, going for an easy kill. He stopped however, and said, "Navrip, surrender. You are defeated."

Navrip forced his eyes to meet with Connor's. "Never!" he spat. Connor nodded solemnly. He moved forward. Suddenly, Navrip saw it. Connor left a wide opening. Navrip mustered all of his strength and lunged forward. Connor never saw it coming. The black blade plunged deep into his heart. The Ranger Lord looked down in disbelief for a moment, then turned his eyes back to Navrip. Navrip met his gaze and Connor fell. Navrip looked down. The vaunted Lord of the Green wasn't moving, nor was he breathing. Navrip stared at him for several silent moments. No one breathed, none of the spectators, none of Navrip's army, no one. Then Navrip weakly raised his arms. "I have defeated the best and the strongest the forces of good have put against me! I have proved myself the strongest of all LoK! I am victorious!"

"Navrip," he heard a voice say. The sound of the voice shocked him. He slowly turned around. "Navrip, there can be…only one!" Connor's blade made a wide arc, angling towards Navrip's neck. The blade connected, and the last thing Navrip remembered before his head was severed was that, no, the sword wasn't magic. Connor collapsed to the ground, his life blood spilling out of him. Navrip's head rolled out of the circle.

Chapter 11

The Finale

Standing stunned on the walls, Talmorr clenched the battlements and stared down at Connor, looking for some sign of life. Talmorr had never dreamed this would happen, and, bowing his head, he prayed to Paladine that Connor would live. Finally, snapping out of it, he looked around to his commanders. "Look alive, lads. Prepare the knights; this may not be over." By now the spectators had started to recover, and he could see people running into the circle to tend to Connor. Talmorr whispered, "Connor, old friend, you'd better be all right."

Nicodarious blinked. He couldn't quite believe what he had just seen. Connor had been run through the heart by that metal monstrosity, yet he still managed to take the thing's head with him. Snapping out of his shock, Nic rushed into the circle and, being one of the first there since he was only standing outside of it, he cast his magic once again to heal the Ranger Lord. The bleeding stopped. The wound closed.

Connor's eyes opened slowly. He looked up and smiled and weakly proclaimed, "There can be only one. And I've still got my head." Then the Ranger Lord passed out from the blood loss.

Nic wasted no time getting some of the other spectators together. He had them carry the Ranger Lord back to the castle and into the infirmary. Navrip had given his word, so there should be no attack. His army might have other ideas, however, and he wanted to be safe inside before things got ugly. His last order to one of his attendants was to go collect Navrip's head. Connor might like to keep it as a battle souvenir.

Navrip's army stood in stunned silence. It had seemed Navrip had won, but that victory was snatched away as Connor stood and took Navrip's head. There were cries to attack from some of the more bloodthirsty knights. These cries were soon taken up by other knights. But Embros would not have it. "Silence!" he shouted, his voice booming out. The knights fell silent. "Major Navrip said that if he lost, we would not attack. We would withdraw back to the Temple of Takhisis. We will honor his word and withdraw. Any knight who tries to attack the LoK castle will be killed by myself." None of the knights made a move. Embros called a group together. "We shall recover the major's body, in order to give him a proper, honorable burial. Let's go," he said to them. The knights prepared a litter to carry Navrip's body on, with a seperate container for his head. When they arrived at the circle, however, they were unable to find Navrip's head. "The damn LoKs must have taken it!" Embros cursed. He mounted his black charger and rode up to the castle. He called to the sentries.

"Go home, Knight of Takhisis. Your leader has lost and had agreed to withdraw if he did. Aren't you going to honor his word?" the sentry called back.

"Don't doubt my honor, goodie! It is the honor of LoK that I doubt! How dare you desecrate the body of Navrip by stealing his head? I demand that you return it now, as well as turn over the coward that stole it for punishment!"

"I'll tell Lord Oakbow of your 'request,'" the sentry said. He turned to another, who kept his eye on Embros, while the first ran to relay his message.

***

Nicodarious was in the infirmary making sure Connor was settled and reassuring Unari that he would be just fine. Then, one of the sentries from outside came in and told him of Embros's demands. "Coward?" Nic said, incredulous. "It was not my intention to defile; however, I may have acted a bit with anger and not been thinking very clearly. Go to Lord Oakbow as you were doing and let him know I will defer to his wishes on this matter." The sentry ran off to finish out his duty while Nic pondered the possible outcome of his immediate future.

Connor stood shakily, the wound still bleeding. He spoke. "Nic, bring me Navrip's head. It is mine by right of combat, and now I'll return it." Nic, in awe that the Ranger Lord had managed to regain conciousness, much less stand and speak, handed over the head. Connor started up the hall to the battlements, moving slowly. Each step, a bit of his lifeblood dripped to the stone floor. The wound of the blade had been deep indeed. Coming to the battlement, Connor stood proud, crimson underneath his hastily donned plate shirt. With a voice proud and full of power, he spoke. "Here, knights; here is the head of your fallen leader!" Connor flung the head far into the sky. It landed with a thud in front of Embros' feet. "Now, you understand, no matter how many knights you bring or how many times you attempt to destroy the good in this world or the next, the rangers will be watching and waiting!" With that, Connor spun and strode back into the keep, out of sight of the evils and many of the other LoKs. Connor fell to the floor and breathed very shallowly. He closed his eyes and his breath came no more.

The smith had followed Conner through the halls and to the battlements while she watched the red drops fall with mounting horror. Already, she had steeled herself as he fell, immediately taking charge. She had stood vigil over him once before, but this time she was more sure of herself as she cradled his body in her arms. "Bring me blankets, bandages, fresh water, healing salves an'

herbs ta yer sick room, Nicodarious. An' plenty o' each. 'Tis 'Nari who now stands watch." Unari seemed to hug Connor to her as she bent to whisper in his ear. "Ye did well, m'lord. Proud an' strong ta th' very end. I only hope th' last o' yer strength an' magic wasna wasted on yer grand gesture." Speaking more loudly, she called out, suddenly very heart sore, "Someone help me move 'im off th' cold floor!"

***

Dark Legion continued to stare at the child and his strong resemblance to his best "friend." Oakbow's amorous behavior would one day catch up to him, and now the countdown had begun. Takhisis opened a scrying pool to allow him to "catch up" on current events. The draconian army had since dispersed, considering that a month had passed in real time while in the Abyss. And Navrip...Poor little Navrip...The bastard had been holding out on the Knights of Takhisis as he and Soth battered the LoKs. Now he struck? Bah! More traitorous scum like Soth

was. At least he had courage, he'd give him that...The Knights of Takhisis who had "defected" with him had progressed well. They had successfully went underground and assimilated with the rest of the populace to become "invisible." They would be allowed to recruit in the shadows and move through them. And he had not forgotten about the gem shards the LoKs were in possession of, but that was one tiny setback. He still needed to find a way to put it back together, first. He gave a grim nod to his Dark Queen and she returned him to the disgusting land of Britannia in a flash of darkness.

***

Time passed as the ranger slept the sleep of death. The immortal's wounds on the outside were healing, but upon the inside, they were all there. The death of Blossom on that cool morn many years ago. The death of Ramirez. The death of the Kurgan and, for a time, peace. The breath came suddenly. Connor gasped and life returned.

***

Upon the return of Navrip's head, Embros had withdrawn from the LoK castle. He had demanded that Nicodarious, the one who had stolen Navrip's head, be turned over for punishment, but the sight of his dead leader was too much for him. He had scooped it up and withdrawn without a word. They had returned to the Temple of Takhisis, using the recall runes they had marked before leaving. On the eve of the next morning, Navrip's funeral was held. With his passing marked the disappearance of the last of the great KoT champions. No one had seen nor heard from Soth or Dark Legion in over a month. Siege had been missing and presumed dead for just as long. Navrip was the last hero that the Knights of Takhisis had, and now he, too, was gone. Embros had prepared the eulogy, but he couldn't bring himself to say it. Navrip's passing marked the end of an era in the KoT. No longer were there the great champions left to lead the chosen of Takhisis into battle. Embros watched as they lowered the casket into the ground. He wished he knew how to repair Navrip, but the MECH had kept that information between himself and the MECH empire. And the empire would not be forthcoming with help to repair a rogue.

The night after the funeral, Embros sat alone in his room, unable to sleep. Who will lead the KoT now? he wondered. Saidin? Ineluki? They are the only two with any power left. The Knights of Takhisis were crumbling, it seemed. It had started with the break of Evil, and then everything came tumbling down. A figure emerged from the shadows. It laid its hand upon Embros' shoulder, causing him to jump up in fright. Loose dirt fell away from the figure's clothing.

"Embros, there is always a contingency plan," he said.

***

THE END

Until next time…

***