He had never expected his Risen distraction to succeed, but when he heard that the Shepherds had sustained little losses, Morgen was visibly irate. Throwing caution to the wind, he had soared the remainder of the way to his destination, the great altar of Dragon's Table. Not that he worried about a loss, at the end of the day there was no limit to the risen he could summon. He never expected a victory, far from it, but it was the fact that his army seemingly hadn't made any real impact on their ranks that fuelled his rage. Grasping the dark energy flowing through his veins, he reached far above him and decimated the large cross that sat upon the Table's tower. The sound of solid stone crashing its way downwards echoed across the barren plains, and yet, Morgen paid no heed, lost to the power that consumed him.
0o0
They had set up camp for the night a half day's march from the Dragons Table. The campfires burned bright, the open forges sounded with dull clangs, and yet, the forces that occupied the camp remained mute. After the clash with the Risen the previous day, everyone could feel the oppressiveness that the fog wrought. Though it had weakened, it was still apparent, swirling around them faintly, its unsightly darkish hue putting everyone on edge. They'd had their mages conduct tests on the fog to determine its origins, but it had been Tiki who had informed them of its fell properties.
"It reeks of the fell dragon." She had simply said, before wandering back into her tent.
Whilst the shepherds knew of the existence of Morgen, and his origins, the rank and file of their forces did not. It was with some dismay that Robyn soon heard that Tiki's stark message had spread fear through their ranks. The god of death rising, thought to be dead, was enough reason to harbour such fear. Robyn felt it time to inform the men of their end goal, their duty to rid Morgen from their world. He addressed their fears, but left out the finer details, such as Morgens name, or where exactly he had come from. With the threat of Grima somewhat dispelled, the men had accepted their duty with a little less concern.
As it stood currently, the camp was in a state of restless unease. Their Pegasus riders had flown ahead and scouted the Table, returning with little new information. Whilst this may have been a sign to move on, Robyn's resolve was strengthened when scouts who'd been dispatched to several remote hamlets and "towns" returned word of a figure gliding their way towards the Table. With this news, Robyn felt confident in his initial direction. Whilst the men needed to rest for what was sure to be an immense battle, Robyn couldn't help but double the patrols around the camp. Safety was in its own way, the better approach.
He sat reading a tome he'd managed to wrestle off of Tharja for a few strands of hair and a nail clipping. He'd long ago given up on dissuading her from her tendencies and figured if something bad was going to happen, it'd have been done far before now. The tome, Goetia, itself was invaluable, delving into the dark arts, explaining and giving directions on how one could be most intimate with the magic's of death. He was a bit disappointed to find no mention of summoning a hellish army, but the spells and overall power he felt from the tome dwarfed any of the magic's he currently possessed. He endeavoured to pass it on to his wife, she'd be sure to love the new tome, and hopefully, it's strength would lend itself effectively to his cause tomorrow.
0o0
With nothing to do, Gangrel found himself sitting around a campfire assigned to the use of the Shepherds. With meals being reduced to hard rations whilst on the march, the fire served more as a communal point than a cooking fire. To his left, Emmeryn was slumped against his shoulder, fidgeting with a few blades of dried grass she had plucked from the ground. He knew exactly how she felt, the feeling of utter despair, knowing someone died due to your actions, or to save you. Survivors guilt. He too, could feel it eating away at him, but having lived with it for so long, he was able to numb the feeling. But with the way she had been the last two days, sullen and withdrawn, it pained Gangrel to see her in this state.
He'd meant to take the arrow aimed for her, he'd seen the risen draw back its bow, and he'd moved to intercept as he'd seen the release. What he hadn't realised was Hubba too had seen what was to unfold. He'd pushed the trickster to the ground and taken the arrow to the chest. Emmeryn had screamed and tried to immediately perform medical aid. It was no use. With his age, Hubba's body didn't have the density to resist the arrow, and it had sunk deep, taking his life as he fell. Having seen and experienced death for most his life, Gangrel had paid his respects amongst the other Shepherds as they buried him, but it was all too much for Emmeryn. Abhorring violence and lending her talents to healing, she immediately withdrew when she made the connection between his death and the sacrifice he'd made for her.
Squeezing her hand, he rested his head upon hers, "You ok?" He felt her head bob slightly as a response.
"Will you be fine for tomorrow? You might be needed on the field. I'm sure if you're not up to it though, you'll be allowed to main the backlines and heal from there." It felt odd caring for someone, but Gangrel didn't mind. At his words, he felt her curl just a little tighter to his arm.
"I'll be fine tomorrow; I'm just thinking is all." Her voice was low, almost inaudible, but Gangrel didn't doubt her. No matter what happened, she would stand firm.
0o0
"Lord Robyn! I have a report from one of the scouts!"
"Proceed." He straightened from his position over the map, looking towards the captain who'd entered.
"We just had a pegasi scout return from her patrol of the table. She says she witnessed the entire top of the tower shatter after being crushed by dark magic. The scout also reports spying what looked to be a shadowy figure within the grounds. She feared for her safety and retreated, calling all others in the area to join her too."
"Thank you for the report captain. If I could ask of you to deliver a message to Sir Frederick?"
"Yessir."
"Ask Frederick to gather the Shepherds within the Tactica tent regarding tomorrows approach within the hour. Afterwards you are dismissed."
"At once my Lord." With a crisp salute, the captain left to his duties. Stretching, Robyn returned to his map of the altar. There would be little sleep tonight.
0o0
"Our approach is going to be simple. Much like a few years ago, we are looking at approaching the table, therefore we are starting in the unknown. Our adversary has shown his aptitude in the summoning of Risen, so expect their numbers to grow, or at the very least, lessen considerably slower than normal. This is of no concern though if we are able to use the terrain available tactically. Sketches returned from scouts show several natural ditches and large piles of debris from the last battle fought there. Whilst he is defending, I would dare say he would summon the fiends from within the table to better protect them from any ranged artillery we would care to construct. As such, we can expect them to be funnelled from the entrance here, through the debris field and finally into the trenches. This will be as much a defensive battle as an offensive battle. We must let them come to us first, and slowly push forward, creating new frontlines after each chokepoint within the ruins is cleared. When we can, a team of Shepherds will push in towards Morgen, who I presume to be within the altar. If we can distract him, no more Risen. Have any of you any questions regarding this strategy?" Robyn surveyed the room, and when no one spoke up, "Good, now onto the insertion team. I'll need 20 Shepherds, the remainder will lead the troops, your discretion when it comes to altering the plan will be needed. So, with that said, I need volunteers. I myself am going. He may not be my son from this timeline, but I'll play the role of father for him one last time."
"You seem to think he'll fall in this battle Robyn? Do you think he is truly lost?"
"Chrom, he uses the magics of my bloodline, there is no hope."
Aversa stepped forward and stood by her husband's side. "You came back to us dear, surely the same could happen for him?"
Robyn shook his head. "I came back due to the bonds I created with each and every one of you. Morgen came from a world of despair, he has no one. Morgen is lost, and it falls to us to ease his mind." With the tone in the room shifting to a tone more serious than the battle looming over them, Gangrel himself stood forward.
"Excuse my intrusion, but I do believe we needed to select those who wished to show the young man a lesson for tomorrow? If that is still the case..." At that, he felt a tug on his sleeve. Emmeryn held the sleeve within her hand, concern etched into her face, mouthing "no" and objecting to what she knew he'd say next. "then I'd like to play hero for once." With the words out of his mouth, he allowed Emmeryn to drag him back as others stood forward, voicing their eagerness to aid the assault party.
"I know you'll go regardless of what I say, so please, stay safe, and look after the others, just as they would you." He could tell she was upset, and with such high odds stacked against them, he didn't blame her.
"I have to do my part you know, and plus, Plegia's my old lands, no one's going to screw it up bar me!" With that remark he elicited a chuckle from her.
"Look after Chrom too?" She asked. He merrily nodded, and watched the scene unfold before him.
"Walhart wants to ride through the tides of battle again! I will not be deterred!" The large man was arguing with Robyn, with a rather smug Basilio standing beside him.
"And you'll be able to do so, guiding the troops on the front lines. The truth is Walhart, we need a leader first and foremost to lead the troops. Chrom is with the Assault group, and both Kans' managed to raise their hands before you could. Think of all the risen you'll be facing, surely that is enough?"
"I AM INEXORABLE! Make someone else lead! I insist on…" Whatever was to be said was lost as Say'ri, displaying remarkable strength, hauled her husband away. Sighing Robyn turned back to Chrom.
Emmeryn wandered off, seeking to talk with the other medical staff within the Shepherds which allowed Gangrel to go talk with the group which would be leading the assault against Morgen tomorrow. He gravitated over to the ever widening group, noticing Lon'qu, Gaius, Sully and Aversa amongst the ones volunteering to go. He stood beside the Swordsmaster, both acknowledging their presence with a firm nod, it was time to talk strategy.
0o0
They began their march before first light. Battle ready and weary, the lines of men trod their way towards the ever growing landmark in the distance. By midmorning, they were almost upon the Table, its huge, ancient architecture dominating their attention. Estimation of arrival was set for late morning, and Gangrel knew it was going to be a shitstorm. He marched with the head of the army, surrounded by those he could now call friends. He had come along way, but he still had a journey ahead of him. Since the days of Zanth, all he'd ever wanted was a chance to atone, a chance to take back the wrongs he had wrought. Standing by his side was the woman he had wronged the most, yet fate had somehow had the last laugh, and he found himself carrying for her the most of all. Though budding, he could not deny the attraction he felt towards her, could not deny the feelings he harboured, nor the hopes he had of the future. Whatever the past may be, he had changed, and the present reflected that.
"So you'll be commanding the medical tents I hear?" He laughed as his voice startled her. He got a nudge in return.
"Yes. I wished to man the field and help there, but I was told rather firmly by Chrom that I was to oversee the med tents. I don't suppose you know anything about that?" Her tone, which had started of light, had dropped to a thin layer of ice, and he winced.
"I may or may not have mentioned the topic to the Princeling, but in my defence, I was worried for your safety, I don't want what happened a few days ago to, you know, happen again…" He drifted off, not really wanting to breech that subject whilst they headed off to do something that could result in exactly that.
"Still, I don't want everyone to risk themselves whilst I hang back, I could make a difference you know." Her voice was firm, but he could tell she understood.
They lapsed back into silence as they resumed their ever march forward. Reaching around his neck, he withdrew his pendant. For a while now, he'd been debating giving Emmeryn the locket, as protection more than anything else. His only pause was the fact that it only worked within the Plegian royal family. Emmeryn watched as Gangrel toyed with it, sliding it around in his palms before he placed it back around his neck. If Emmeryn was safe handling the medical bays, he could very well do with the pendants protection in the battle ahead.
"Was that the fabled locket of the Plegian line?" Emmeryn asked, curiosity within her voice
Startled that she knew, he stammered "Ye-Yeah it was, but how'd you know? It was a well-guarded secret!"
Emmeryn cast her eyes down before she replied. "My father had his ways. It makes me a little more relieved to see you in possession of it though."
"Hmmph" Was his only reply.
0o0
As per the tactical meeting the evening before, the Shepherds army zoned immediately towards the large depressions that sunk into the ground before the large debris maze. They had made it to the table at the peak of midmorning, with the harsh sun still unable to eliminate the thin traces of fog that clung to the air. With practiced ease, the frontlines had formed their defences within seconds along the strategical line, the ditch giving them the natural height advantage over any risen that had to charge through it to get to them. With Gangrel's position at the head, it was easy to see the lone figure who stood at the top of the entrance steps, not three hundred meters from their line. The silence was palpable.
Robyn stood forward, crossing the few metres that the depression spanned before addressing the hooded figure.
"I wouldn't suppose that you'd agree to drop whatever quarrel you have with us, Morgen?" His voice was loud and clear, easily spanning the empty battlefield between the two.
"I'm surprised that you know who I am, but it matters very little now. For my father's sake, I won't back down. My father was a god, and you took what was rightfully his, what was mine to be inherited! You weren't even of my world! And what do I see when I come here? I see that you've denounced the gift that our god gave you, deciding instead to slay the one who had made you who you were, the perfect vassal. Even with the mark upon my hand, I cannot feel Grima's presence here, you have most certainly killed my god. But that's ok. Today, I plan to make you all suffer, your death's will fuel the spell I have wrought, and I will become my own god!" With every word spoken, Morgen's voiced transformed from that of a human, to the distorted booming voice of the fell dragon.
"I do not believe that is how godhood works Morgen. You are a fool to believe it so!"
"A FOOL? You wouldn't have a clue the power father had! You are but a fraction of the man he was! The power, the magic he showed me, anything and everything is possible, and now YOU SHALL SEE!" propelling himself into the air, Morgen blasted a spell into the ground. Behind him, within the altar, shadowy mist began pouring out of the entrance and all the crevices. Gliding his way inward, Morgen disappeared as the Risen began pouring out. Rank after rank came, all with different assortments of weapons.
Returning to the front line, Robyn and the rest of the force stood ready as the risen crossed the gap. They came disciplined and ready, not rushing in, and definitely not the shambling messes they had fought in the years gone past. Everyone paid attention to the bottlenecks that appeared, noting how the Risen became sluggish and confused upon trying to pass them. Gangrel saw Robyn point it out to Walhart, who sat upon his huge steed with his large axe primed. The massive general nodded once and gestured to a few soldiers before returning his eyes to the oncoming mass.
As the Risen cleared the ruins and began their charge into the ditches, Robyn signalled the archers to fire. The sky above Gangrel turned black for a moment, before the large flock of arrows collided into the oncoming risen ranks. Many fell, but the Risen continued forward. Readying his sword, he watched them cross the ditch and then it begun.
With a large cry, the front line of the army surged forward as one, Lancing and slashing into the front line of risen, their height advantage lending their momentum to their thrusts, felling many with ease. With the push, the archers ceased fire, and they too gathered their swords. Gangrel's first foe was a spear wielder. Its sight was set on Gregor, who stood beside him, so Gangrel wasted no time in leaning forward, using his swords jagged edge to slide right under its armour and penetrate its body. Withdrawing the blade, he immediately continued his descent into the trench, Mindful to keep an eye out to prevent over extending. The spear wielder was quickly replaced with a swordsman, who he parried with a few times before felling with ease. He could hear Gregor somewhere to his right, roaring his delight as he thumped his axe into the risen, one after another. He could have sworn he even heard the oaf shout 'GREGOR SMASH" but decided even the foreign hero wasn't that daft, surely. Catching the oncoming berserker with a blast from his Levin, he parried the axe that came hurtling at his head as its owner lost all control of its borrowed life and sunk to the ground. He ducked under the swung axe of the next fighter and drove his sword straight into its side, raising his foot and kicking it back as he withdrew the blade. He gave the dying creature a blast for good measure, knocking it into three of its kind, which the others around him dispatched with ease.
Their initial push seemed to have ended, as the sheer amount of numbers Morgen had fielded had created an impassable wall. Their frontlines were still strong, those who bore wounds felt the tell-tale signs of psychic stave uses as their cuts and gashes knitted back together. Stuck in the lock, all Gangrel could do was play the constant game of ducking and weaving, assisting his friends where he could, and falling back when the numbers to their sides became too great. To his left, he heard Robyn yell for the mages to area cast, and remembering what that meant, he parried the sword that was thrust at him and braced for the intense light that suddenly seared his vision.
A tactic he'd been taught that the shepherds employed, casting tens of thoron spells together would cause a large area explosion or "cleansing" as they called it, and judging by the surge forward that came from their side, it must have been successful. Pushing forward, they trampled the dead and dying risen under their feet, slicing their way through to the other side of the depression, repeated lightning strikes arcing all over the battlefield.
After clearing the other side, he heard Robyn call the Assault squad in. Swapping positions with those that would remain, Gangrel fought his way to their Grandmaster, who had retreated several ranks behind the frontlines. He was one of the last to arrive, all members looking far worse than they actually felt.
"Alright, we've cleared the trench, which was the easy part. Now that we have somewhere for the wounded to be taken to, and the mages to area cast in safety, we can begin our assault. The plan's simple, we'll be moving as a circle, casters and those who can do a little healing in the centre, whilst the physically orientated remain on the outside." Turning to his wife, Robyn gestured to the new tome Gangrel had seen grasped in her hands. "I trust you've learned enough to cast the few spells I required of you""
"Of course darling," Aversa grinned back, an ominous purplish hue adorning her fingers.
"Great, so the other plan of our is to keep Aversa safe. Her new tome has the power to absorb dark magics, which she'll be using to deconstruct the risen around us, this will allow us to continue moving forward, whilst also giving us a few meters to breathe. Though I'd expect the risen to collapse the gaps we make within seconds, It'll allow us some swinging room. We all clear?"
Gangrel voiced his confirmation, along with the others, and then they set off, jostling their way back to the front. Aversa took the lead, and as she reached the front, an aura consumed her as she channelled this new magic.
Giggling, she cast her spell "All good things must end."
The aura pulsed forward, obliterating tens of risen in a wide radius. Rushing forward, the team quickly formed ranks, and when the risen began to fill the gaps, Gangrel fought them back.
0o0
"God damn it, can't we get through here?" Chrom roared as he slashed at what felt like the fiftieth risen who had occupied that gap in less than a minute.
"It's a bottle neck Chrom, those two pillars are channelling them straight through here. Aversa's trying her hardest, but we need something more!"
Gangrel spoke up, barely dodging a poorly swung axe he hadn't seen until a moment before. "What if after Aversa clears, a small group of us push forward and hold the gap until she can cast again? We'd be split for half a minute, but it'd do the trick!"
"It's dangerous, but it'll have to do. AVERSA! You ready again?"
"More than ever. Such a pity, they're still clinging to hope."
And with that, the gap appeared again, only this time Gangrel rushed the gap, leaping over fallen forms, joined by Chrom, Robyn, Lon'Qu and Basilio. Together, the five stood firm, as risen surrounded them on all sides. Thrusting his foot out, Gangrel tripped the closest fighter, sending it stumbling, only to then discharge his sword straight into its chest, barrelling it away. Darting forward to finish those he had knocked down, he was pulled back moments afterward by Basilio, who gave him a grin before braining the closest risen.
It felt like an eternity before the shadowy aura flashed, and the group stood firmly by their side once more. As they moved ever onward, the Shepherds army gained ground, slowly taking the advantage in the fight.
0o0
"Cherche, a new stave if you could! Long range, preferably a fortify or two if we could spare."
"Certainly milady!"
The medical bay was inundated with those whose wounds were too serious for the spot healing of the long range staves. Shepherds and sages alike were scurrying to and from the injured, exhausting their large stock of resources to get them fighting fit and ready for action.
Emmeryn herself was leading the long ranged effort, casting their spells far into the front lines. The power of the sage was to sense all around them, know who to hurt and know who to heal. Her mastery of this skill was second to none, therefore it fell to her to keep tabs of the battlefield, and the assault team. She could feel them struggling, could sense their wounds, and when things got serious, she sent wave after wave of energy from the best staves she could get her hands on. But she had a limit, and she knew that if their front lines couldn't keep up, she'd lose them when they entered the altar.
"Milady, here are some Fortifies. We're running low on them, so please use them as sagely as possible." Cherche turned to go before she burst out laughing. The high stress of the battle and their nerves, combined with that awful comment proving too much for the wyvern rider. Smiling despite herself, Emmeryn cast her mind back across the battlefield.
0o0
There was something to be said for stairs, and Gangrel was sick of them. It was hellish enough to have to climb them, a whole other ordeal to fight on them. Though the risen did not bleed, their gaseous contents seemed to hold enough moisture to mix with their own blood to make the climb treacherous and slippery. Several times already, a member had gone down on one knee, only to be hauled back up and thrust back into the hack and slash of things. Gangrel had stowed his sword a while ago, the close quarters fighting proving to be so much easier with his dagger. Cackling like a mad man, he was repeatedly dealing punches and kicks, slipping his dagger in-between armour pieces and throats alike. Currently, his risen opponent was smart enough to try and grapple the dagger, but a right hook to the jaw was enough to distract the creature long enough for him to plunge it straight through its eye socket.
"You're an eyesore GYAHAHAHAHA…oh, well that's the end of that then." Covered in blood and gore, the dagger finally refused to return to his hand, stuck within his victim's skull. Shrugging, he drew his blade and continued. Adjusting to the longer weapon, he adopted his usual strategy, staying light on his feet, and striking fast and precise. Using a wide parry on an axe, he sent the risen careening off balance, straight into Lon'Qu's line of sight. The Swordsmaster, dual wielding at this point, paid little heed as the risen blundered into one of his blades. Shrugging at the unexpected outcome, Gangrel continued the push up the stairs.
0o0
Much like he had done as he had fought to survive, Walhart had yet again taught Risen the meaning of fear. He had long since sent his horse to the rear of the line, preferring instead to cut large swathes through the enemy ranks. The issue now was the fact that the risen were no longer approaching his line segment. For every step he took forward, they took a step back, faltering in the mindless advance. Even his own men had left him to his own devices, but he didn't blame them, it was probably safer that way. He'd left many risen fallen to the wayside, as he strode through them, pushing the line ever forward. To the far left, he knew his wife was leading the fight there, and that she would do well. To the far right, that insufferable jerk that preached about the blue flame was leading his own ragtag band. But in the dead centre? That was his ground.
Bounding forward, he smashed into their frontlines with a war cry, twirling his axe mindlessly. There was no point in finesse and skill when every swipe of your weapon resulted in guaranteed death anyway.
0o0
As they crested the stairs, their final hurdle lay in sight. Morgen hung suspended dead centre of the Table, wraith-like as he cast his spell, shadows spiralling from him. The Risen for their part, seemed to materialised periodically not twenty feet away from the entrance they now stood at. Aversa, adept from repeated uses, was able to keep the spell at an almost constant, evaporating their foes every few seconds. Though it had brought respite for the others in the group, she herself looked ready to collapse.
Breaking through the conjuring line, Robyn went to his wife's side and held her as she stopped her final spell. With her duty done, she slumped forward, drained of energy. Gangrel and the others stood in a rather unique position. Behind them, the Risen continued their infinite advance, however, only facing forward. In front of them stood their aggressor, protected by the veil of shadows that shrouded him. After Anna had seen to Aversa, and Robyn was sure she'd be fine, the others approached Morgen. As they got closer, his wraith like appearance diminished, until they stood before him. Behind them, the conjuring of Risen stopped, and the mist started to dissipate on the wind, carried upward by the now topless tower.
"I had no intentions of allowing you to reach me, I'll be honest. I had thought my Risen would have kept you at bay until exhaustion overcame you." Morgen's voice was flat, but the underlying tone of power could not be shaken. Gangrel could feel it every time the young man talked. It was cold, and warped. "But no matter, you're here now, twenty of you. That'll do for now I suppose."
With a flick of his hand, Morgen sent them sprawling. Lon'Qu, first to his feet, charged and swung at his opponent, his flurry of strikes seemingly parried by the mist like tendrils Morgen controlled. With every parry, Lon'Qu grew more desperate, trading skill for raw power. Laughing, Morgen let it continue for a few more seconds before his hand shot out and gripped the Swordmaster's neck. With everyone else now on their feet bar Aversa, they rushed to Lon'Qu's aid, only to be kept at bay by Morgen's power.
"Oh no you don't. I'm going to show you all an example. Everyone has a spirit. With enough spirits, I can become a large entity. I so dearly wanted your soul to be the first." At that, he looked pointedly at Robyn, "But I supposed this one will do."
Struggling against the vice like hand applied to his throat, Lon'Qu tried desperately to escape, but to little avail. Morgen, smiling at his struggling victim, unsheathed the sword at his side. Looking one last time at Robyn, Morgen then drove it straight through Lon'Qu's stomach, before dropping the man to the ground. Twitching for a few moments, Lon'Qu tried to breathe before it failed him and he lay still.
"That was a little fun, but a little too slow for my liking. How about we pick up the pace?" The flat tone from before had quickly shifted to a sardonic one, and Morgen faced the group. He gestured for them to make a move, and Gangrel felt powerless. As one, Anna Robyn and Tharja thumbed through their tomes, Tharja stooping to collect Goetia from Aversa. Timing their spells, they cast, slamming all they had against Morgen's mist barriers. Taken aback by the power behind the attacks, morgen gritted his teeth and visibly braced as he fought back. Anna gave out first, exhausting her casting abilities. Picking up her stave, she raced to Lon'Qu's side. Robyn followed suit not long after, His tome bursting into flames at the intensity of the spell. With nothing to do but watch, the remaining Shepherds saw Tharja reach her limit, before Goetia finally broke through Morgen's defences and struck him. Recoiling from the lacerating shadows, Morgen growled.
"You'll all pay for that one." He ground out, conjuring a sphere in one hand.
As Tharja sunk to her knees, Gangrel and Flavia stood in front of her, ready to deflect the spell to come, but nothing prepared them for the attack that came. Ghostly shards erupted from the sphere, slamming into everyone and sending them reeling. By the time Gangrel could move, he was the only one conscious. At his side, Flavia lay broken, strewn and tossed aside. Feeling a burning sensation around his neck, he fumbled with his locket, feeling the new, large indent in it. Realising that his locket had just taken the brunt of the attack, he laughed as he stood.
Morgen appeared to be in no better shape. Tharja's spell had caused severe lacerations to his body, which he was concentrating on healing. Bending down, he picked up his sword, He didn't know how, but this had somehow fallen to him to finish. Remembering his hero remark earlier, he smiled sourly. Should the Shepherds lose someone today, he wasn't so sure he'd like the title. Morgen gave up on healing as Gangrel approached, summoning the ghost like tendrils.
"You have no hope against me. I have no idea who you are, which means that in my realm, you're a dead man. And that's all that matters."
Giving himself a grin, Gangrel couldn't help but reply. "Can you really kill a man that cheats death?" Standing before Morgen, he removed his locket. Morgen watch curiously, not sure what to expect. Raising his sword, Gangrel watched as the tendrils moved to follow it.
"I suppose you wouldn't want to fight fair would you?" He asked, gesturing to the tendrils.
"I have half the mind to just erase you from this existence and then continue with the others. The only reason why you still live is because I can't figure out how you're still standing." The curiosity in the demon's face was apparent, and Gangrel couldn't help but feel as if he was looking at a younger version of himself.
"Well, if we ain't fighting fair…" He slung the pendant at Morgens face, the locket sailing effortlessly through the barriers Morgen had erected before crunching into his face. Crying out in shock, Morgen dropped the barrier and clutched his face. Stepping forward, Gangrel finished "Then neither will I." At that, he thrust his sword into Morgens chest, activating the levin's properties for good measure. The close proximity of the blast sent Gangrel to the ground, whilst it knocked Morgen backwards as he tried desperately to heal the wound in his chest.
Unable to stem the bleeding, Morgen gave up on the endeavour, choosing instead to end the life of the one who had caused the injury. Using his energy to launch himself, he landed on a half delirious Gangrel, wrapping his hands around the Trickster's throat.
"YOUR LIFE WILL BE THE ESSENCE TO FUEL MINE!"
Not expecting the assault after the blast had sent him reeling, Gangrel's already fogged mind started to go into shutdown. He could see the figure above him, its demonic face twisted into a snarl. Vision dimming, he thought he could also see Robyn raising his sword. He felt warm liquid begin to pool on his chest at the same time the grip around his throat loosened. Dragging in large breathes, he began to heave as Morgen let out a blood curdling scream.
"NOOOOO! I was the rightful god, I was supposed to…succeed my father."
Robyn kicked Morgen off Gangrel, using the momentum to unsheathe the blade from his back, before stooping to help check on him.
"You ok there Gangrel?" Nodding, as he was incapable of talking, he weakly clasped Robyn on the shoulder in thanks.
Struggling to get up, Gangrel just gave up for the moment and lay there. Around him he could hear the others coming to. Outside the clashes of battle were beginning to die down, by now he was sure they'd noticed the lack of Risen reinforcements. They'd be getting help soon.
0o0
"Are you ok?"
"I'm the sage, shouldn't I be asking you that?" Her reply made him laugh.
"You're the one who spent most of her day healing and treating others. All I did was kill a few Risen and wrestle a lunatic."
"You're lucky to be alive you know. And not just you, all of you. Lon'Qu will make a full recovery given time, Aversa is mentally and physically drained, but nothing that rest can't fix, but the rest of you, you've either got broken bones or you've been contaminated by whatever magic Morgen used. It's going to take a lot of herbal cleansing to remove that." Her voice was stern, but Emmeryn bustled around him, changing his dressings with care and smiling when she thought he wasn't looking.
He thought it cute, but didn't know how to mention it, so he replied rather lamely. "I guess I won't be going anywhere for a while then."
At that, she gave him a frown. "Oh you? You're fine. It seems that pendant of yours saved you from most of the serious harm that befell the others. You'll be discharged in a few hours for some light rest." Finishing the last touches, she left his partition, seeking out another patient in need.
Sighing, he guessed light bed rest was better than none.
I'm hoping that was good, I had doubts about this chapter, but I'm overall quite happy with how it turned out. I hope you guys like the next chapter by the way, it's probably what you've all been reading for, so I made sure to put as much effort into it as I could. It will be uploaded immediately after this one!
