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Blue lightning, like miniature flashes of a condensed storm leapt across the width of that war hammer. They seemed to travel through the interlaying of gold and silver which ran like veins through its obsidian mass, impulses through the nerves of the lobes of a brain. Faster and with more vivid intensity those flashes writhed, moving from the base of the hammer up into its top, the bulging end beginning to emit a deep and powerful glow. The light from the hammer cast strong, elongated shadows which twitched and danced as the sparks along its length occasionally flared up.
Uriel waved it back and forth in front of himself, the trail it made through the air sparking by itself with discharge. Even from across the room Janos could feel the electric current building, a powerful hum and tense vibration in the air. The very hairs on his head were standing beginning to stand up in response. Every mention of this hammer in the holy scriptures of the Wheel of Fate spoke of its destructive potential, its power to smite the wicked and the unworthy and leave all enemies of God cast back down to the dust from whence they came.
Finally, the assault came, as Uriel darted forward swinging the hammer around in an arc that let forth a powerful screech. It was that screech as it began that warned Janos, for the swing of that hammer was deceptively fast. One ought not be able to wield a hammer of such size so easily, as if it weighed nothing. It was swung as if it were as light as a stick, the hammer came around in an attack that if connected would have cleaved Janos' head from his body and shattered his head into fragments.
As it was, instinct once more saved him. As that high pitched screech reached his ears the ancient Vampire swung backwards out of the way, leaning so far back his spine reached a painful forty five degree angle. He toppled backwards, falling down to the floor and then rolling sharply to the right to avoid the hammer as Uriel brought it up and then sharply down. Even thought Janos cleared the impact spot, the shockwave the hammer produced as it struck the floor sent him flying across the chamber spinning wildly.
He collected up against the wall with a thud that jarred his already battered form painfully, his limbs sudden rods of lead and his head resonated as if it were an anvil being pounded on by a blacksmith. Janos struggled to rise, his arms and legs shaking beneath him as he tried to right himself. His body craved sustenance to restore itself, to replenish what it had lost during the conflict. Unfortunately the only supply of any fresh, revitalising blood was coming at him again with that destructive artefact raised high in the air.
There was nowhere to run. He was boxed in between two pillars which blocked his escape to either the right or the left and Uriel was coming on too quickly. No time to plot an elaborate plan or strategy. The only way out was forward, directly through his enemy. There was no choice. No alternative. Seeing that plain fact before him, Janos felt whatever restraint he had left dissolve like salt in water. Perhaps it was a survival mechanic, a flow of necessary adrenaline. Whatever it was it fired inside him an irritation, an anger that boiled inside and drove him forward.
He raced forward, not to dodge or evade Uriel but to meet him directly. The hammer swung down, coming in an arch from right to left. Janos did not deter, did not evade. Instead he simply reached out and grasped the hammer shaft directly beside Uriel's own grip. He thrust all his strength, whatever reserved he had left, into holding off the blow. The two of them struggled, feet shifting back and forth, each trying to overpower the other. The sparks of the hammer ran back and forth long the handle, casting both their faces with highlights and dark outlining shadows.
"Was any of it true, Uriel!?" Janos demanded through clenched teeth, his face dirty with stood, grime and streaked by sweat. "Was anything the Divus told my people of the Wheel of Fate true? Or was it all self serving lies?! Propaganda meant to change our culture and way of life to suit the whims of the Divus?!"
"The Wheel is the only truth, Audron!" Uriel snapped back, hissing as he rest to cement his control over the weapon. His strange grey hair bellowed around his face. "Serving the word of the Hub, the one true god, the centre of life and death is the only path to salvation!" He surged forward, trying to twist and wrest the hammer from Janos' challenging grip. "Anything else is a mere distraction to the path out of sin! You more then any of your kind ought to know that!"
Janos refused to yield, his grip on the hammer's shaft so tight that his knuckles turned white beneath his blue skin. He surged forward, pressing Uriel back several steps through sheer force of stubborn will.
"What I know, finally after all this time, death is not the answer!" He replied, each word forced out between shuddering deep breaths required to reinforce himself. In his mind as he struggled with Uriel was that wall. That terrible wall to the north, hidden for centuries, which had laid out starkly before him a horror the likes of which would haunt his soul forever. "And the Divus have been responsible for more deaths then I could possibly ever know!"
At that insinuation Uriel's face tightened, eyes blazing with fury. He pushed back against Janos, tugging the shaft of the hammer back and forth trying to free it.
"Death turns the Wheel! Death feeds the Wheel! All are equal in Death!" He almost shouted in the Vampire's face. He slid one hand up to just below its head and using this new leverage point he started to push its sparking mass closer and closer to Janos' face. The Vampire could feel the energy from it, a tenseness in the air which caused his skin to crackle before the hammer had even made contact. Janos leaned away from it, his arms trembling as he pushed against that advance with all the strength he could muster. Uriel's words resonated in his mind. He had heard them many times before in many a sermon but now, as he thought of their implications with that wall firmly in his memory, their true hideous and terrible meaning became unmistakably clear.
That fire, that rage which had propelled him forward suddenly flared anew. It surged from a boil to a furnace.
"No! I will listen to this poison no more!" He cried out and with both hands he tore the hammer back while lashing out with one foot, kicking Uriel squarely in the stomach. The Divus fell back with a grunt as Janos' foot knocked the wind out of him but in that single stunned moment he relaxed his grip on the hammer. With one powerful jerk Janos tore the weapon from him, hefting it up and away.
The thing was indeed deceptively light, as if despite its obvious metallic nature it were made from wool or clothe. The power in it was staggering. He could feel the energy almost resonating through his hands and up his arms. Uriel recovered, coming on in a snarl, arms raised as he tried to take back hold of the hammer shaft. But Janos moved back, drawing it out of his reach, his muscles tensing. The rage still burned, hotter then ever.
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"I had never known anger such as this. A powerful rationality erasing rage which left me incapable of anything other but raw aggression. Perhaps it was all the indignities and slights I had been forced to endure over the years, kept bottled by my believes, finally coming to the surface in one great surge."
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"Take your pious cult of death and begone!" Without thinking he brought the hammer around and smashed it as hard as he could into Uriel's face. Uriel was sent hurtling down to his knees, the blow knocking him sideways with blood trailing from his mouth and nose. But Janos was not gone. He swung the hammer again, catching him across the chest. The sounds of ribs shattering and flesh tearing was hideously loud.
"Begone!" Janos swung again, spinning sharply around and slamming the hammer into Uriel from the right. A torrent of blood fountained from his lips, splattering across Janos' tunic and the floor between them. Each blow Janos landed was accompanied by a powerful flash of energy, sending ripples of electric current flowing into Uriel's body. Parts of his skin were erupting, bursting off as the implanted energy tore its way free. His flesh rippled as if trying to leap free of his very bones.
"BEGONE!" With one final all expending effort Janos brought the hammer up and then down, the head smashing Uriel to the floor with an almighty crash. The entire tower trembled about them, bolts loosened and tumbling free. Dust bellowed up into the air, a thick choked cloud of red rust particles. The structure made the most awful ringing noise, as if it were a colossal struck bell.
With a shuddering gasp Janos fell backwards, collapsing onto his back. His energies spent, the surge of strength in that time of need finally petering out. As it left him he felt every injury acutely and painfully. His vision same so much it was impossible to see and all he could hear was the ringing of the terrible bell he had struck. There he lay, utterly used up on the wavering bring of consciousness.
He fought the impulse, but only with difficulty. He could not afford to pass out right now. Forcing his eyes open and straining against a body that very much just wanted to lie horizontal, Janos pushed himself up into a lopsided sitting position. The hammer lay next to him, bolts of energy still sparking across its length. To have actually wielded a weapon of ecclesiastical legend was not something he was forget, even if shrouded in a haze of righteous anger.
Uriel was a bloody, shattered wreck. One of his arms was missing, utterly obliterated leaving a torn bleeding stump. One side of his ribcage had been flattened, causing him to curve in upon himself like an oyster shell. His skin was blistered, red raw and covered in terrible blackened sores from the eruptions of energy. Blood coated his ruined face. One eyeball had popped and his teeth were misshapen, crooked and falling free. He was so broken that as he tried to haul himself up, his blistered legs would not entirely support him and he was forced to crawl.
"Y..you...!" His voice was a pitiful wet gurgle. He turned away, his remaining eye still filled with anger and hatred. "I.. I wi.. return! The host of heaven will descend upon you and.p..punish you for y..our sins, Janos Audron!" He left a blood trail as he went, moving sideways like a crab towards the chambers only window.
That's when the figure stepped out of the darkness. It moved casually, without hurrying, to block Uriel's way. It was a fall figure, robust with wide shoulders and powerful arms. It stood with its hands resting upon something slender which rose up past its waist. The figure wasn't alone for it was soon joined by two others. The first was a slender figure, distinctly feminine but with vampiric trappings. The other was...
Janos started. He knew that outline!
"No, I think not." The first figure said in an instantly recognisable voice and as Janos' eyes adjusted, the blurring finally settling into focus he saw it for what it was. Kain, the ruler of a Vampiric Empire and held with his hands resting on the pommel was the Reaver Blade.
Beside him was a female vampire that it took Janos a moment to place, having only met her briefly once before. Umah, Vorador's subordinate in the Cabal. She had altered quite a bit since he had last seen her, taking on characteristic in her evolution that almost made her mirror the man she stood beside.
On Kain's other side stood the figure Janos had longed, but dreaded, to see. An emaciated blue body, a mere thrall like skeleton with half his face hidden behind a cowl that bore symbols of his clan. The being Janos had known as his saviour and been forced to destroy, the being he had seen evaporate into nothingness before him was, as he had been told, alive. Raziel. The messiah he had waited centuries and endured death itself in order to serve was indeed still amongst the living.
Uriel stared up at them, aghast at their sudden appearance. Kain's expression turned almost sly, his lips parting, showing off his fangs.
"Only one person here is going to be punished, Uriel-Divus, and its certainly not any of us." He said.
The sudden movement was a blur. Kain moved so quickly Janos had not seen him even tense or shift his weight. One moment he had been leaning upon the sword as if it were a walking stick and the next the Reaver was screaming through the air. The serpentine blade arched up, swung from below and impacted with a resounding crunch directly into Uriel's crotch. Uriel gasped, doubling over.
But Kain did not stop. Grimly he dragged the blade up, inch by slow inch. Janos watched the ghastly progress of the Reaver as it ascended, moving vertically through Uriel's body. Up it went, further and further. It passed through his pelvis, his stomach and then his chest. Blood poured out onto the floor, running so thick it had chunks of internal organs floating in it. Uriel drew in a breath but his lungs had already fallen free.
"My God! F...forgive my failure!" He managed to croak out in a voice which was more a strangled gasp then spoken word, just before the process was complete and the sword slide up and divided his skull in half. The two halves of his ruined body stayed standing for a brief instant before falling away from each other with a splash into the pool of blood they had loosed. There was a screech, a wail, like a despairing cry of utter anguish and Janos knew the blade had feasted well on the soul of the departed Divus.
Janos collapsed back to the floor with a grunt, whatever energy he had had left spent.
"Raziel..." He muttered in a weak voice, his eyesight blurring once more in his fatigue.
"Janos!" That voice was his. A voice he had thought he would never near again. Dimly he could see the shape above him, a pair of emaciated but strong arms steadying his head.
"You live... Vorador was right...you live. Thank the fates you live." He muttered, reaching out one trembling hand to grasp his messiah by the shoulder. "Raziel. Forgive me. I couldn't... I wasn't in control of..." A rough but tender hand was laid over his and a pair of faintly luminous eyes gazed down at him.
"I know Janos, I know." Raziel said in a voice ringed with compassion.
A moment later Kain was at his other side. Swiftly he removed the gauntlet strapped across his wrist to expose his skin and raked one talon across it, cutting himself and allowing blood to well up.
"Janos Audron, drink." He commanded, holding the self inflicted wound just over Janos' parted lips. Janos was in no condition to refuse even if he had been inclined to. The demands of his body for replenishment were simply too strong. Without a word he allowed the blood to flow down his throat, gulp after gulp. Kain's blood was potent and a mouthful of it was like blood from ten Humans at once. He gasped with bloody lips as he felt his energies almost completely restored in a sudden rush that left him disoriented.
Kain chuckled in amusement and stood up, holding out his arm to allow it to heal before he replaced his gauntlet. He gazed about the chamber and the damage it had taken.
"I'll admit, I did not think you possessed the capacity for such decisive action and...brutality." A preserve smile parted his lips. "I'm rather impressed."
Raziel slowly helped Janos up into a sitting position and the ancient Vampire did not begrudge the assistance. The blood had helped immensely but much of him still felt sore and weary. He was going to need rest just as much as blood to recover from this ordeal.
"You shouldn't have come here alone." The blue wraith said to him, although not as a reprimand. There was actual relief and concern in his voice. "Vorador was not happy you took off as you did."
Janos did not answer. He just looked into that ruined blue face, half hidden beneath a cowl, with a contentment he had not felt in many years. The relief to finally see, in objective reality before him, the confirmation of his exoneration was so immense it left him lightheaded. He felt almost detached from the world and all things within it. The Hylden generals foul influence had left him soured in guilt for so long, convinced he had murdered the one being who could save blighted Nosgoth.
"How...how did you..." He began.
"Survive?" Raziel finished for him, keeping hold of his hand with his own to steady him. "There is more to me then you knew Janos." The ancient Vampire turned the look, letting himself smile.
"Evidentially so, but I have learned much since." He replied, giving Raziel a direct look. "Or do I not speak to Raziel, first born son of Kain and patriarch of clan Razielim?" The blue wraith actually flinched at that, his eyes widening in surprise to hear Janos speak of such things. Kain laughed, placing the Reaver across his back and then folding his arms.
"What? Did you except him to remain as ignorant as he was thousands of years ago, Raziel?" He asked with some sardonic humour. Raziel gave him an unfriendly sideways look over one shoulder in reply. Janos tightened his grip on the wraith's shoulder.
"Whatever agency allowed you to survive that assault I will praise with all my being. As you are alive, here with us now, there is more hope then I have ever dared dream possible." He said urgently. A strange sort of reluctant expression seemed to flicker across Raziel's blank eyes, his brow furrowing. He paused for a long contemplative moment, as if trying to find the words. Finally he shook his head.
"Janos, there is...something we need to talk about." He said sotto voce, helping Janos back up to unsteady feet. "Later. In private." Janos' returned expression was one of bafflement.
Over by the window, Umah was gazing down through the crisscrossing bars at the flat black plain far below.
"Kain." She called, without turning around. "The thrall army."
Kain quickly crossed over and joined her by the window. After a moment to collect himself Janos joined them as well, with Raziel helping support him when he staggered. Through the bars he could see that expanse of land roll out towards the volcano the north. The clashing armies were still down there, battle lines drawn up. Smoke was rising from several burning fires, perhaps made by bombs thrown from the Endurance. Janos couldn't see the flying vessel down on the ground or up the air.
Something was happening. The mass of undead, the legions raised by Uriel as an exterminating force were collapsing. It was like watching a great wind blow across a field of wheat as scores of shambling corpses fell to the ground. Many of them were collapsing into dust by so large numbers that clouds of it were rising up to catch on the wind. A myriad of confused cries came from those down below, followed belatedly by a puzzled but no less enthusiastic cry of victory. The first battle with the Divus to determine the fate of Nosgoth had been won.
"Like all puppets, lifeless without their puppeteer." Kain remarked with no small amount of satisfaction, a grin parting his lips.
"It won't take the Divus long to launch a fresh attack." Raziel said without much mirth himself. "And next time they won't rely on undead minions. They'll bring their own troops."
"I know." Kain placed one hand on the sill, taking some time to survey the scene with the professional scrutiny of a military general. "As soon as the chaos abates down there we shall have to galvanise the scattered remnants of the armies into some form of order."
Umah let out a short bark of laughter, placing one hand to her face with her talons rubbing the bridge of her nose.
"Oh yes, I am looking forward to seeing you try to manage that." She chuckled, giving Kain an almost evil mocking grin. "There are two entire species down there that have every reason to attack you on sight." Kain gave her a flat sideways look.
"Do not underestimate my ability to command, Umah." He told her sternly. "I'll make them listen to me if nothing else."
"Just don't give anyone with a crossbow a clear shot at you." Umah's reply was sardonic.
Suddenly Janos gasped as he remembered that which in all the chaos of the battle and the arrival of the others he had forgotten. He swung about, pale faced, almost thrusting Raziel out of his way.
"The Staff! The Staff!" He cried, staggering over toward the jagged tear which ran through the chamber. His wings fanned out, ready to bare him down into the dark abyss. He did not know whether they were still strong enough to hold him in flight but he was desperate enough to risk it.
"Janos, wait!" Raziel cried, running aftrer him. But before either of them could reach the edge of that crack, a thin shape came hurtling up out of it. A pair of dirty wings snapped out, keeping a filthy emaciated body hanging in mid air. Both the ancient Vampire and the blue wraith backed off in their surprise.
"Azazel!" Raziel exclaimed and indeed it was. Battered, bruised and cut about across the face and arms, Azazel was even more dirty then before; a thick coating of red rust slime running down one side. He was breathing hard, trembling all over in the effort it took to keep himself airborne. There was however something far more pressing and urgent then his mere physical appearance to be concerned about. In his hands, clutched tightly to his chest, was Moebius' staff. The sceptre was as dirty as he was, scuffed in placed from its fall, but the orb in the snakemouth was still pristine.
Kain drew the Reaver in a flurry and ran forward but he was too late. Azazel took one startled look at the company about him and quickly reached inside his filthy tunic to withdraw a small item; some sort of large broach with a red jewel in the centre. Janos couldn't see it very well. He held it out before him and pressed that jewel in the centre with his thumb. Then before their eyes, Azazel's physical form began to peel away. Hit outline became indistinct and his colours faded, until finally he became transparent. Janos was ignorant of the magics involved but he knew a translocation when he saw one.
"NO!" He reached out but it was a futile gesture and all too late. Azazel vanished, taking the staff with him. His form simple faded into nothingness. Janos stood there, slack jawed and dumbfounded, staring at the spot where the key to restoring Nosgoth had simply vanished into thin air.
"It's too late, Janos. He's gone." Raziel sighed in weary and irritated resignation. Janos turned about sharply, his face stricken with the panic infecting him; eyes wide and face done deathly pale. He took hold of the blue wraith by the elbows and shook him.
"That Staff, Raziel! We must have that staff!" He shouted, almost hysterical. Raziel returned the grip to steady him.
"I know. Vorador told us of the ignitor." The blue wraith said.
There was a scrabbling noise directly behind them and they all turned as one to see another figure pulling themselves up and over the edge of the jagged crack. It was Ophiel. Her clothing was torn in several places and she had coating herself that same rust and black smile. She was out of breath, coughing hoarsely as if she had inhaled a lung full of the smog cloud. Her hair was dishevelled and a long cut ran across her face and down her neck to her collar bone, blood staining her skin.
"He got away from me." She admitted in a rough voice which did not hide a harsh self disparagement. Kain grunted and slid the Reaver across his back again.
"We noticed." He said with dismissive irritation, placing his hands on his hips. "And here I thought you would be of use when dealing with other Divus, Ophiel." She returned his look coldly as she hoisted herself up, her chest heaving as she struggled to regain her breath.
"He will have taken the staff back to Fanum-Divus. To Asmodeus." She said. "Where it is beyond our reach."
"I should have ripped his head off with my bare hands when I had the chance." Kain muttered almost to himself. Janos sank to his knees and put his head in his hands, so that they could see the look of absolute despair that hung upon his face.
Umah was making her way over from the window to the group, when her foot struck something that made a metallic clattering noise as it was pushed aside. She glanced down in puzzlement and then froze in surprise, left poised in mid air almost balancing on one foot. A sharp intake of breath caused everyone to turn and look at her as she bent down and hefted the hammer of Metatron up, cradling it in both hands as if she had recovered a long lost child.
"Janos...where did you get this?" She breathed, gazing down at it in a sort of lost wonder. The hammer looked somehow bigger when held by someone smaller like herself although its weightlessness allowed her to wield it with no difficulty. Uriel's blood still dripped from one end of its bulging head.
"That is the hammer of Metatron. I wrested it from Uriel during the battle." He muttered half-heartedly, still weighed down with dejection and without much enthusiasm for the mystery. Umah looked up at him with an incredulous look creasing her face.
"'Hammer of Metatron?'" She repeated. "Hardly! This is no Divus trinket!"
"Of course it is." Ophiel disagreed, an eyebrow raised on her grubby face. "Metatron always wielded that hammer when he stood in service to the throne of Fanum-Divus."
"He was a thief!" Umah retorted flatly. "This isn't his hammer. He stole it." Her talons gripped it possessively. "This is MY hammer!" The almost childish way she said it caused everyone to pause.
"You, or Ashar?" Raziel asked, bemused. She scoffed at back at him.
"It makes no difference at this point!" Grinning evilly. her fangs protruding she held the hammer up and her gaze was rapturous. "It was with this hammer that I and my mentor, the Dragon Kothar, fashioned the Tempus Crux and make slipping through the passages of time itself possible!" Her grip tightened and the flashes of electricity leapt across the weapon, only this time instead of being blue they turned red as if changed by her command.
This broke through Janos' dejection at the loss of the staff and he looked at Umah with mounting incredulity but peaked interest for her declaration. For indeed, having met and spoken with the shade of Kothar already, he knew something of the Dragons and their history. If what she said was true, this hammer was no mere religious token. It predated the war with the Hylden and perhaps even the Divus themselves and through it, had the sad series of events which plagued this world had begun. He did not know how she could possibly know any of this but there must have been much happening that he had not been about to witness
"Well, perhaps it is not a lacklustre consolation prize after all." Kain said, a clever and malicious glint in his eyes.