First story here. Edited by bloodychaosdragonknight!
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It was raining.
Miles, perhaps hundreds of them, below the surface of Faerun, water fell from the dark, roiling clouds that obscured the ceiling of the massive cavern. Bolts of lightening flickered amidst the swirling gray mass, causing resounding echoes of thunder to crash through the Underdark.
Apparently the forces of the Valsharess thought to sow confusion and fear amongst our ranks. As impressive as the creation of an underground storm was, it did little to awe those of us holding the gates against her. I sent a mental prayer of thanks to whatever being had given me the foresight to send the drow squadrons back to the city proper in order to protect our flank. Instead of cowing the ones who had never before seen inclement weather, the Valsharess commanders wasted their spells against those of us who had no care for it.
I glanced about my allies one last time, reassuring myself that all was in hand. Eight huge siege golems flanked me at the front gates. Drops of water splashed off their metallic faces, impassive even when faced with a massive drow army. The golems would do most of the work, fielding the brunt of the army's attacks. There was a reason they were nearly twenty feet tall. A smaller, miniature siege golem that still towered over me was under my direct control, ordered to protect me specifically. Nothing would break the psychic bond that bound it to me, probably not even its complete dismemberment. The metal constructs had been given life by the Maker, a demi-lich inhabiting an island far to the east of Lith My'ather, and before his death the mighty wizard had even been able to raise sentient thoughts in the golems, giving them powerful minds to match their unstoppable bodies.
The golems were the armor against the invader's swords.
I was the shield against their magic.
Chanting softly, almost under my breath, I once again checked the arcane wards set about the only other living defenders, Valen and Nathyrra. Valen Shadowbreath was a tiefling demon, called from the planes of the Abyss by the Seer. Unlike most other demons though, he was bound, body and soul, to this world, not to the will of the summoner. Valen was tall, taller than most humans, probably close to seven feet, a little more if you included the curving horns on his head. He had fought a countless number of battles in the Blood Wars across many planes, and a storm such as this did little to awe him. In fact, his only sign of agitation was the continual twitch of his tail, the flared point flicking and twisting about itself, though it was probably more from excitement than nerves. His eyes scanned the approaching ranks, quickly calculating a thousand strategies that should compensate for any change in our own plan. He absentmindedly tapped the haft of his two-headed flail, Devil's Bane, against his emerald greaves as his mind worked.
Beside Valen stood Nathyrra, an assassin-turned-wizard. Clad in black leather, Nathyrra looked more like the wandering rogue than an accomplished wizardess. She had one of her most potent spellbooks open in front of her, for once her tight wooden face and iron will truly suiting the slight drow beauty. Sigils flared off the pages as her eyes passed over them, and though she visibly tensed at every clash of thunder, her stern stance belied her unwavering conviction in the Seer's visions.
Like the Seer, Nathyrra was a believer of Ellistraee. For her this storm, while a thing of awe, was what she aspired to see when we finally broke the might of the Valsharess, and the Seer would take her to the surface...
... and myself? I am a sun elf, born and raised to praise the sky and all its glory. In fact, I probably would have been a druid were it not for fate leading me down a more esoteric path. Sorcery was in my blood, however. Magic had claimed my life early in my youth, and through my adventures my small talent had grown to near immense proportions.
My familiar, a small fey dragon curled up tightly around my shoulder, stared intently at the approaching drow, a low growl emanating from his throat. He was a surprisingly protective little guy. I had to grin at the way such a disturbingly cute creature could be so aggressive. The fey dragon caught me grinning and snorted a tiny plume of sparkling dust before turning his head to sulk. Even that was adorable. Grinning even wider, I reached up a conciliatory hand to scratch the cerulean scales of his neck. Mollified, the fairy dragon slid a little closer and deigned to acknowledge my presence once more. I glanced back up at the approaching army.
With a start, I realized that the rear guard of the army had come into view far, far sooner than it should have for the all the armed might that the Valsharess had been able to call to her aid. Even just scanning the number of siege weapons I could tell that there was no solid force here, at least not one meant to take a fortified gate.
"Valen?" I asked, a hint of worry in my voice. "I thought the reports said that the Valsharess had raised and army of almost ten thousand."
Silence met my question. I pulled my eyes from the legions in red and black armor, searching for an answer in the weaponsmaster's face. His profile stood out in the darkness, his pale, off-white skin glinting where shimmering trails of rainwater coursed over his cheeks. Seeing no answer forthcoming, I turned back to see the array of soldiers before us spread out merge into their respective formations.
"That doesn't look like ten thousand." I observed.
"No," he said, his voice harder than iron. "It doesn't." A muscle twitched in his cheek as he contemplated this new development.
"Where are the rest then?" I asked. If they were in holding, waiting to rush at us our weakest...
He shrugged, unfazed. "We'll just have to wait and find out."
Line by line the archers in the rear stopped and stuck their arrows in the ground, the three great catapults behind them lining up as two scorpions were hauled to either side of those. In my mind's eye I could already see the initial wall of arrows hurtling towards us as the infantry at the front drew steel and charged...
"On my mark." Valen said softly, drawing me back to the rapidly approaching battle, the same strange surge of fiery emotion that raised a tumult of feelings in my chest; fear, exultation, bloodlust, and excitement coursing through my veins at the sight of the drow forces, perhaps two thousand strong, clad in the red-lacquered armor of the Vahlsharess.
We stood, tensed, waiting in the shadow of the gatehouse. I strung my longbow, a huge black thing carved from the legbones of a demon named Assanti. I wouldn't be using it if all went to plan, but battles seldom did. Even as a sorcerer it was good to have some secondary defense to fall back on. Nathyrra crouched, tracing rune wards against projectiles on the ground with a piece of black chalk. Between the power of her spellbooks and my arcane prowess, I was confidant that we could break the might of the attackers.
It was merely a matter of who got the most spells off first.
The army had gotten closer, nearly close enough for arrows to start falling against the shields Nathyrra had erected. Every time one struck the shield a small point of light would flare at the arrowhead before it fell softly to the ground, its momentum stopped. At the first strike, Valen signaled the towering golems, sending the lumbering giants forward to deal death to the dark elves. For a moment, the attackers stilled as the golems drew closer, enchanted arrows flaring brilliantly when striking the spell-crafted adamantine plate of the golems' bodies.
Then the golems crashed into the forefront of the army, surprisingly fast for their size. Mail-clad bodies flew through the air as adamantine fists flailed about, sending the drow scattering in all directions. Immediately, the magic of the drow wizards at the back was brought to bear, dazzling sigils uniting to form massive balls of flame and energy to rain down upon the golems. I resisted an urge to breathe a sigh of relief at their predictability. I raised my hands, more for my own benefit than for any real purpose, concentrating on the deadly spheres being flung towards the defending golems. While the flame itself wouldn't hurt them, the heat and energy of the balls could upset the matricies that kept the golems functioning.
I pulled downwards, snaring the missiles and dropping them into the midst of the drow forces. Soldiers screamed as flames plastered to their skin, rippling rings forming where they fell to the ground, abandoned by fellows who didn't want the gooey flame burning their own flesh. A small part of my subconscious mind was horrified and sickened at the sight, but I was mature enough to know that there were times when my altruistic morals simply weren't viable. I squashed the niggling feeling, resolved that, it was only through the death of some that others were able to live and prosper, and, most importantly, that some lives were more equal than others.
The smell of burning flesh wafted along the gentle breeze that came with the storm. The rain came down harder, fat wet droplets splattering with more force. Thunder blocked out most of the drow cries, but the sound of the metal golems crashing around was still audible.
The five siege engines were close to the edge of the far cavern wall, braced on the rocky hills at the back of the army. Two wicked-looking scorpions were firing rapidly at two of the quicker golems, providing cover fire as the siege engineers assembled the last winches on the catapults.
I narrowed my eyes, removing the distractions of the world and focusing solely on the ponderous machines as they were brought to bear on the huge golems. Already loaded, the catapults launched three boulders across the cavern to shatter against the gatehouse behind me. I ignored the missiles and concentrated on wrapping my magic around the engines themselves.
That the wood itself was warded was their undoing. From across the cavern I gathered the knotted spells in my hands, soft and spindly to the touch. I cupped my hands and gently brought them together, slowly flattening them against each other, concentrating harder, applying greater will as the enchantments fought to resist the now crushing force that was now fracturing their fragile structures. Rust-colored dust erupted from the machines as I crushed the internal winches and levers that allowed them to function. The siege engines crumpled in a spray of splintering wood.
Black shadows detached themselves from the rocks around us, slipping silently across the ground. Intent on my spellcasting, I wouldn't have even noticed the forms were it not for my familiar who flew up, screeching, butterfly wings crackling with energy as the fey creature called upon his own magic. Opalescent sparks flew from the tiny dragon, illuminating a score of drow assassins. Their cover gone, they fanned out in a circle of whirling blades.
Valen hefted his two-headed flail and charged heedlessly into the drow, the weapons master spinning gracefully through the blades and tearing holes in the circle's defense. The air thickened as I brought my hands together in a powerful clap. A burst of will which sent ripples through the air and was accompanied by a sound of silent thunder drove the elves in front of me to the ground as my shield golem barreled into another group. Nathyrra snarled as three drow broke away from Valen and approached us. She drew her rapier and pulled a dagger from her boot, advancing on the three assassins.
One of the assassins rolled away from darting Nathyrra's slice, quickly assessing me as the greater threat. She swung at me, a wide, lazy blow, clearly expecting me to be one of those mages who simply fell apart when faced with physical combat. I dodged it easily, spinning out and around to crack my longbow over her head. The bonebow met her skull with a sickening thuck and she stumbled to the side. Nathyrra was beside me again, opening the woman's throat before rushing back to join Valen in chasing the shadows jumping among the stalactites.
Leaving the first wave of assassins in their hands, I retreated back to the circle of protection and refocused on the spells of the wizards amongst the army. The first thing I wanted to end was the storm. All the water would be rushing somewhere, most likely undermining the walls of the city. 'Or soaking the ground!' I thought, suddenly aware of the imminent danger the heavy siege golems were in.
Casting my senses out, I felt for the skeins of power that would signify a focus, a physical container for the wizards to channel into. I closed my eyes, and behind my lids a vast field of arance magic flared up. This wasn't the geometric web of an orb weaver, nor anything close to what many mages describe as a tapestry. This was magic, the underlying fabric which made up our world. At best it could be described as the cobwebs found in abandoned houses, thick and matted, sloughed about haphazardly, bunched in some places and torn thin in others.
I coursed along the prismatic strands, over the junctions where enchantments merged with the items they imbued, around the brilliant, pulsing points of other wizards, only touching down long enough to gain the vaguest sense of each enchantment's purpose.
I was peripherally aware of the closest golem stumbling as one of its legs got caught in the sucking mud. 'Find it, find the fucking focus,' I chanted to myself. I closed my eyes and tore into the weave with greater force. A series of images flitted through my mind as I searched through the enchanted artifacts in the enemies hands. Spelled swords, swirling flasks, amulets and brooches, puissant containers, the faces of the Archwizards leading the army- wait, one of the flasks! Spinning back quickly, I wrapped my mind around the rune-matrix that powered the artifact. I relaxed slightly at having found it, then quickly turned it over in my mind, analyzing the spellcraft involved in its creation. I placed subtle barbs along the framework, bleeding magic off in waves.
It still wasn't nearly enough to stop the power of the storm. Above me thunder cracked once more and a thick bolt of lightening seared through the air, striking the lead siege golem. Its armor flared red hot as it wobbled slightly, then continued to battle with the drow forces.
I traced small, almost delicate runes in the air before me, concentrating wholly on the flask held in the hands of the enemy command. The rain stopped, and the thunder died as the clouds quickly dissipated with no force binding them together.
Realizing their magic was being subverted, the wizards immediately ceased casting. I tensed, waiting for the next barrage of magic to strike out from the enemy casters. So focused was I on feeling for the next surge of power that I missed the sonorous voice of a duerger woman chanting a paean to her god.
I didn't miss the sudden surge of puissance that gathered just in front of where Nathyrra and I were standing. It swirled and stormed, spinning open with incredible speed. I only needed a single glimpse of the nightmarish landscape revealed within to know what was coming.
"Valen," I called warningly as a char-scaled pit fiend stepped through the rift. The thing was gigantic, easily ten feet tall, with black smoke drifting from its eyes and huge taloned hands clutching a massive fiery blade. It snarled back over its shoulder at the other fiends that were waiting to pour through. My eyes flicked about the field worriedly, searching out the demonic weapons master. A devil, even a host of them, was no match for me, but I couldn't fight them all off and close the gate at the same time. "Valen!" I called again, catching sight of him weaving about in a group of attacking drow. Valen needed only a single glance to realize what was happening, tearing away from his attackers and dashing back to smash his flail into the back of the devil's knee. A resounding crack and the spray of blood and bone told me he had broken the kneecap in a single blow.
The pit fiend collapsed, bringing its head low enough for Valen to swing his flail in an upward arc to crush its skull. The massive fiend fell to the ground and did not stir again. Valen spun about, wading into the swarm of lesser devils that was now pouring from the gate. His two-headed flail thrashed about him, a graceful arc that smashed through bones and armor alike, dark blood pouring from a mounting pile of corpses that littered the area in front of the portal. Both devils and fiends screamed in rage at the site of a demon laying waste to their kin, the bloodfury swelling up in the presence of their ancient enemy. En mass they charged Valen, leaving the portal temporarily free of enemies.
"Protect me." I told the shield golem before I bolted past Valen and charged into the vibrating air that surrounded the glowing gate. I stopped just short of the rift, letting my mouth chant as the diagram for the spell required rose in my mind. Azure runes sparked from my arms as I reached not through the portal, but instead tugged at the strands of power that held it together. The wards that safeguarded my body scintillated brightly as energy snapped free from the weave with jarring force. The threads that bound it together started to disintegrate faster, slipping out of my grasp with a speed that started to snowball. If I didn't dispel the gate now, an explosive backlash would disintegrate both myself and everything near me.
A devious thought whispered in my mind. I grinned, pleased at having found such an easy solution. I hummed a quick cantrip. A luminescent orb of cerulean glyphs arced out around my form as time ground to a halt. It was the most powerful spell I knew, freezing everything but me for a full minute...or maybe I was just sped up compared to everything else. Anyways, I let my hold on the torn gate slip, tracing a single rune on the threads before racing back to Nathyrra and Valen, the world slowly gaining speed as I moved away from the cerulean bubble. Or I slowed down. Whichever.
The cerulean glyphs started to spin slowly, gaining in momentum as the spell wore down. "Shield your eyes." I said to the drow assassin when I reached her, the split second before my spell disintegrated completely.
The gate slipped through space as the last threads pulled apart. In the center of the battlefield it reappeared for a fraction of a second. In that fraction, it felt as though time slid to a crawl as the rift give one mighty pulse, a vibration so loud and deep it could equal the heartbeat of an ocean leviathan. It passed, and raw chaos poured through. The bodies closest to it were immediately disintegrated, the drow further away tossed into the air by the shockwave as pulses of blinding light erupted from the closing gate. The massive cavern was illuminated brighter than day for a moment before it dimmed again, seemingly darker than it had been before. The portal was gone, leaving a smoking crater that encompassed a good quarter of the battlefield. Steam rose from the ground where the rain had been suddenly superheated. For an ephemeral moment, the entire battlefield was halted in awe of the destruction I had wrought. Then an ululating cry from a horn sounded, and the invaders as one stumbled backwards, retreating from the devastation that had wracked their forces. I was astounded. That one brief stroke of luck had saved us nearly half a day's worth of fighting, and I doubted that Valen and Nathyrra were even remotely tired.
The golems halted as the attackers fled. They stood still on the field for a few moments, silent colossi, before tramping back to resume the original positions they held before the battle. All the giants looked the worse for the wear, huge rents torn through their metal legs, one missing an arm entirely and others looking half melted. Two flesh golems, Ferron's other reinforcements, stumbled out from the safety of the gatehouse towers to work their reparative magic on the siege golems.
In the slight lull, a sudden surge of arcane power was all the warning I had before we were fighting for our lives once more.
A bubble of purple sparks flared before us, rotating outwards before retreating to form the outline of a drow wizard, blood pouring from a wound in his crisp white hair, his ornate robes splattered and torn. There was a wild look to his eyes, a fierce cadence to his chanting. There was no doubt among us that he had no thought of self-preservation. His first spell, cast nearly instantaneously, rocked the earth beneath our feet, the second a powerful gust of wind that sent Nathyrra and my shield golem tumbling away while Valen scooped me into his arms and sprinted for sturdier ground.
The shield golem regained its footing and charged forward, only to be halted by a clawed hand that tossed it backwards through the air as though the golem were a paper doll. It smashed into a stalagmite, earthen vines erupting from the ground to wrap around the metal construct and immobilize it. The old wizard was still focused on Nathyrra, who had retreated to the safety of her circle of protection. She was on the defensive, all her will bent on strengthening her shields. Sharp crags appeared over the ground, halted only where the rune-wards of her circle held sway, flaring a dangerously bright white as the destructive energies poured over them. Curved shards of arcane energy shattered against her sanctuary, which, though impressive, was rapidly failing.
A quick cantrip as Valen leapt among the falling stalagmites exposed the wards placed about the drow. My mind ached with the amalgamation of spells that circled about the old elf, protection from spells, wards against disjunction, fury from the elements. Circles that kept creatures away. Circles that kept away good, banished evil, halted simple weapons. To attack him directly with magic would be akin to swinging my bare fist against an oak.
The demon set me down about twelve yards away from the wizard, just outside the circle of quaking earth. Valen immediately spun about and rushed back, slamming into the spiraling wards about the drow elf. I hefted Assanti, drawing an arrow from the quiver on my back. "Servansos," I whispered. Silvery light flared about the head as I drew aim on the wizard. I pulled back, and let the arcane arrow fly.
The arrow flew true, blazing whenever it passed a ward, until it stopped less than a foot from the elf's back, dropping like a stone from the air. It was obvious that he was shielded from enchanted weapons as well as simple ones. I shouldered the bow again and extended my senses once more, prying for a weakness in the mage's defense.
I shifted my weight, conscious of the bonebow against my shoulder, wishing that I could get close enough to hit the wizard with it. Carved from the thigh of a demon, it was possible that a planer weapon could make it through the barrier that kept my arrows at bay. Valen threw himself at the wizard's shield again, testing for weak points that he could slip through. Something about the way he moved caught my eye. There was a slight discrepancy in the way he probed the wards, and if I could just identify what it was... Ah. His flail would pass farther than his body when he slammed into the shields. I started, my brain jerking into cognizance. The weapon, while not demonic in itself, was still from that of another dimension, and from the way it moved through the wards as though they weren't even there, I was certain that it would be the key to beating the drow wizard. I cupped my hands around my mouth. "Valen!" I called, the demon cocking his head imperceptibly to acknowledge me. He had noticed it too.
"Throw it!" I yelled over the din. The demon signaled his understanding and ran forward, nimbly swaying with the bucking earth. He raised his arm and took aim.
Valen flung his flail, the steel shaft glinting as it twirled towards the wizard, as yet unaware of his danger. The flail caught him square in the middle of his back, an audible snap of his spine that silenced his chanting and the bombardment of missiles that had driven Nathyrra to her knees as the circle broke. For an instant, the quacking earth beneath our feet surged upwards, before collapsing as the wizard's spell finally expired.
The wizard crumpled to the ground, flaring magic erupting out of his broken form to coalesce into a hideous, screaming green skull, the size of an ox and wreathed with black flames. My mind faltered as I struggled to piece together just what the hell such a display of magic would accomplish. Then it struck me, my blood turning to ice at the realization.
The wizard had meant to die fighting us. That his death might at eliminate least one of the most powerful defenders. It was a death curse, meant to slay the one who slew the wizard. Meant to slay Valen.
The burning skull arced towards the demon, its grinning mouth opened as though to engulf him whole. I started running towards Valen, who could do nothing but crouch and brace himself for impact as the blaze screeched closer. Unthinking, I darted in front of him, trying to breath a thousand castings into my hands at once. My wards flared a brilliant white, searing sigils crackling ominously as the spell struck. The bulk of the energy slammed into my shields, my world collapsing into a thousand shards as an explosion that I was certain heralded my doom sounded in my ears.
Void.
Lucid darkness that swam through my consciousness was my new cosmos, my body spinning out among star points so vast that I only knew them as the vague boundaries of existence. A fuzzy voice broke through suddenly, sending my new home tumbling off its precarious mooring. I couldn't make out the words, but the soothing quality that it held rekindled nerves that I had forgotten seemingly ages ago. By instinct, my eyes forced themselves open to meet a pale, beautiful face, framed handsomely by blood-red locks. I stared into the vision, temporarily at a loss for words. I didn't know who it was, but I knew that he inspired a feeling of safety, kinship so profound that my hand reached outward to caress his face entirely of its own volition.
His eyes widened at my touch, but he didn't jerk back. I ran my fingers along his lower lip, entranced by the feel of the smooth skin. A fuzzy voice spoke again, though I couldn't understand the words. He crouched lower, and I realized that he had been the owner of the voice. I couldn't help but laugh at the thought that such a beauty would have such a derelict sound. The feel of probing fingers through my hair made me realize that I was being cradled by the man, the angel. He leaned in closer, his eyes intent on mine, as though he wanted something more, something important. 'Like a kiss perhaps,' an insidious thought whispered in the back of my mind. I gasped at the thought of his lips upon mine, my lower lip trembling in fear, in desire. Then his fingers found what they were looking for, the pressure point just behind and below my right ear. He pressed down hard, and for an instant, I had a name for the face above me.
An eternal beat, the pulse of my heart, passed as my new world was jarred back to reality.
"Ceald?" Valen asked, peering intently into my eyes with his own icy blue ones. Dark spots twirled across my vision. "Ceald, you need to focus."
'I am trying to do just that, you damn stupid demon,' I wanted to snap, before I realized just what it was I had been doing for the last few minutes. More precisely, I had been lying in Valen's arms, thinking about sucking his tongue down my throat. I scrambled out of his arms, blushing furiously. What the fucking fuck! I had never had such thoughts about the demon before, not even dreamed it! Perhaps the death coil had damaged something after all. I shook my head, grateful that Nathyrra was already at my side as I stood, steadying me with a hand to my shoulder. A cursory check of my limbs and bodily structures left me reasonably assured that I had collapsed more from the strength of the spell as it hit my wards rather than from any wounds.
Nathyrra grinned at me as I looked back up at her, and I turned to smile my thanks to Valen. I started to meet his eyes, deciding it would be best if I pretended I had forgotten what had just happened, but at the look I saw in his icy stare, an indescribable barrage of feelings suddenly scattered my thoughts. Damn it! Couldn't he have just pretended not to notice? The demon's eyes bore into mine for a silent, impossibly long minute as I scrambled for something to say, before they suddenly shifted to focus on something behind me.
I followed Valen's gaze back through the gates, now open, where a bright wisp was spinning dazedly before it started towards us. The little ball of light sped through the gates, its message clearly urgent. Momentarily distracted, I activated the speech command on the spectral creature.
"Ceald!" Commander Imloth's voice echoed from the messenger wisp. "The Valsharess has flanked us! They have crossed the Dark River and are attacking Lith My'ather! You are needed back at the Temple!"
There was a moment of shocked silence before Nathyrra sheathed her sword and bent to pick up her all-purpose spellbook.
"Well," she said, "At least now we know where the rest of them went."
I nearly sighed. First the thoughts of kissing Valen and now this. Some days things just couldn't go right.
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