Angel of Death
Chapter 2: Lunas
Gareth was staring intently into the bottom of his wooden mug, apparently attempting to decipher the meaning of life and the universe. He could feel the presence of ancient beings in his head, lazily flowing about, tracing flowering patterns of light and joy across the surface of his mind. Their songs imparted long-lost wisdom and he strained to hear the secrets of the Abyss. The beautiful, wailing songs grew louder as he continued to reach out for them, until finally it pierced through his mind, a sharp, shrieking call.
The screams brought him out of his drunken reverie.
Stumbling out of his chair and groping with his right arm for his longsword, he wheeled around trying to get his bearings. Head swimming, he reached behind himself for a wall to steady him, and drew back his hand, "DAMN that's hot! What the -" Turning around, he finally noticed the solid sheet of fire crawling up the wall behind his seat. Looking around, he realized that he was the only one left in the tavern, having been lost in his alcohol-induced dream he had not noticed the screams of men, women and children outside. The others had left the tavern, taking their weapons with them, long before the tavern had caught fire.
The hot buttered rum Gareth had just recently gulped down continued to do its work, casting a blanket of sluggishness over his body. Stumbling a few steps, he grabbed for his sword, but only succeeded in knocking it to the floor. Cursing, he bent down to pick it up, cracking his head against the edge of the table sharply. Reeling, he stumbled backwards and tripped over his overturned chair, and fell over onto the floor flailing his arms.
Groaning and clutching his head, he looked upwards and waited for the world to stop revolving about him. He was barely fast enough to avoid the blade that slashed down, biting into the wood just a few centimeters from his left ear. The sudden shock finally cleared his foggy head. The veteran leapt onto his feet and raced the several steps forward to his sword. His hand closed around the hilt as he rolled forward and away from the enemy's blade, which was buried in the floor not 5 feet away. Coming to his feet, Gareth turned to survey his attacker. Scales of red-greenish hue covered an impressively muscled bulk, standing about two heads above an average man. The head was disturbingly humanoid. Long spires of bone protruded from its back and a wicked set of claws clicked as the monster yanked its embedded sword from the floor.
"Damn bastards just won't quit," Gareth muttered under his breath.
With an ancient and damaged great axe in the other hand, the monster charged forward, bringing the axe over its head to cleave Gareth in two. The axe whistled through air as Gareth quickly stepped to the side, swinging two-handed with his longsword through the creature's midsection. The sword skidded off hard scales, dislodging several, and scraped across the monster's side drawing blue blood in a large gout. Gareth struggled to hold onto his sword as the impact almost jolted it from his grasp, then rolled backwards as the monster's sword whistled through the space his head had just vacated. Regaining his footing, he suddenly heard a crash from behind and turned just in time to see a blade coming through the wall towards him in a long, clumsy arc. Nevertheless, Gareth had been caught by surprise and as he stepped away he cursed at the long gash that ran across his left arm. A twin of the monster that had attacked him, the newcomer stepped through the burning wall that it had just smashed to kindling. The fire, meanwhile, had spread to the floors, and several sets of chairs and tables burned almost merrily, giving off intense heat and causing Gareth to sweat profusely. He adjusted his slippery grip on the hilt of his long sword and surveyed the two monsters in front of him, each wielding an axe and a sword roughly twice as long as his own, and perhaps three or four times heavier.
"This doesn't seem like a very fair fight to me, gentlemen," he said aloud. The monsters replied by charging forward, weapons swinging. Lethal, bladed edges whistled through air in a crude dance of death as the monsters collided with Gareth. Blocking strike after strike from four different weapons whistling around him, Gareth could feel his arms fatiguing. "Damn these guys swing hard," he thought to himself as he again just barely parried an axe-swing with the flat of his blade. He was slowly loosing ground, backing away from the onslaught of whirling blades and axes. He could not spare a look behind him without risking an opening that could perhaps result in a separation between his head and his body and so could only stumble backwards blindly. The monsters seemed content with forcing him slowly backwards, expending only as much effort as needed to drive him backwards. "Once I trip on something, they'll come in with those axes and it'll be all over," Gareth thought grimly. Suddenly, he saw an opening - a sword arm too low and an axe raised too high - allowing him to thrust forwards while twisting sideways to avoid being sliced in half by the other monster. His opponent grunted as the sword cut sideways across its body, finally slicing through his scales and ripping a large gash in its abdomen. Blue liquid gushed out in an obscene mix of fluid and organs, spilling onto the floor and spattering the nearby area in filth. As the monster fell, it's sword sliced across the back of Gareth's leg, slicing through leather, skin, and muscle. Gasping with pain, he stumbled backwards and fell, losing his grip on his sword as he tried to catch himself on both hands.
The remaining monster turned towards him, raising its axe to deliver the deathblow. Eyes straining up at the blade, Gareth awaited the stroke. The blade fell, fell, fell. . . and thudded into the wooden floor inches from his face, followed shortly by the monster's bulk. Kicking upwards and to the side as the monster fell on top of him, Gareth pushed the monster up and away from him, who collapsed to the floor within an arm-span away. Standing quickly, Gareth grabbed his sword from where he dropped it and swung it in an overhead arc, bringing it down hard on the monster's throat. A spray of blue covered Gareth as the head separated from the body, throat opened and gushing obscenely. "Well done. Although, you do realize I had already killed him before he hit the floor. . ." Gareth started and brought his sword halfway up until he noticed the speaker, a man encased in bloodstained ornate armor and grim determination. "It's been a long time, Elikar," Gareth said breathing heavily.
"That it has, Gareth. You seem no different now than you were then, always laying down on the job," the man said, grinning.
"Well, now, it isn't my fault if my feet can't make up their minds about where they want to go."
"Yes well, if your mind had not been immersed in drink perhaps it could have lent your feet some of its wisdom."
"Hey, the drink warms your belly and loosens your sword-arm, always a good thing in a battle."
"What good is loosening your sword arm if your legs can't carry you?"
"At least you can still swing. If all you can do is walk you're no better than fresh meat."
Elikar laughed, "I must concede that point."
"Well, of course."
Elikar sighed, "Had we met earlier we could have talked for a while my friend -"
"Yeah, but with all those damned monsters running around it can be hard to get anywhere these days."
"- and we hardly have the time for idle talk. As you can see -" he said, motioning to the bodies lying on the floor, "this town is under attack -"
"So what else is new?"
"- and the soldiers garrisoned here are untrained and outnumbered."
"Speaking of numbers, where's Carsis?"
"Carsis is outside, fighting back the horde."
Looking around, Elikar's gaze fell to the beer mug. "You are lucky that you chose a bar at the rear of Lunas."
"Yeah, I guess."
"With so many recently arrived heroes, we managed to slow the monsters' advance through the town, so most haven't been able to make it back here."
"But a few managed to slip by you guys anyway, so I gotta clean up for you guys back here. Can't you young men do any better than that?" Gareth said laughingly.
"Well, we didn't realize there would be senile old men to protect back here," Elikar said wryly.
"What the - senile old man? I guess I asked for that, you bastard."
Suddenly, another armored figure rushed into the building, slightly out of breath from running. "Elikar, what do you think you're doing? We have a town to defend out here."
"It's our old friend, Gareth. Don't you recognize him?" Elikar said, motioning towards Gareth.
"Gareth? Why, it most certainly is!" The new man said, striding towards him and capturing him in a bear hug.
"Haha. . . Carsis, you still are the same rough man you used to be," Gareth said as he felt the breath being crushed out of him by his comrade.
"Sorry if your old bones can't take it," Carsis laughed.
"My bones have taken more punishment than yours ever will, so I'd be quiet if I were you."
"Sure old man. But we've got a battle to fight, and the hordes aren't getting any thinner," Elikar sighed.
"Well, at any rate, I agree we're not going to get anything done standing around talking," Gareth said.
Taking a look around to check his belongings, Gareth walked towards the door. "Okay, let's go."
* * *
"You have a talent for understatement, Elikar," Gareth growled, as he witnessed the onslaught. "This isn't a horde of monsters. . . this is a tide." Elikar grunted as he swung his two-handed sword with one hand, slicing open a grotesque face, spattering blade and armor with blue fluids. He kicked the body backwards and swung his blade sideways, severing the neck. The body toppled to the floor. Elikar turned towards a new attacker, raising his shield to block an axe blow then using the shield to bash the assailant in the face, crushing bone with a sickening crunch. As the monster howled and stumbled backwards, Elikar stabbed forward with his blade, impaling the monster and almost yanking the blade from his hands as the body fell backwards. Placing his foot on the body's chest, Elikar yanked his sword from the body and smashed the pommel into an onrushing demon.
Gareth and Carsis worked side-by-side, swords rising and falling as they parried and sliced and chopped. Other warriors fought alone or in groups of three or four against packs of the red and green monsters. But no matter how many of the monsters fell, more and more streamed through the town gates. Though the human warriors fought bravely, every once in a while an axe would get through, cleaving a man in half, chopping off a limb, cutting open a head. As more and more humans fell, more and more monsters continued coming through the gates. "Ah shit," Gareth said grimly, as he took a look around at the slowly dwindling number of defenders.
"We're not going to be able to hold out for much longer," Carsis said between breaths.
Gareth chopped a monster in the leg, using extra force to cut through the scales, then sliced upwards to catch the monster under the chin, slicing the jaw neatly off and cracking the head backwards. The monster stumbled back, howling in pain, and rushed forward in a frenzy, dropping its sword to swing its axe two-handed over its head. Gareth rushed forwards, rolling under and past the blow, and impaled the monster right through the chest. Putting his foot to the monster's chest, Gareth slid the monster off his sword and turned to meet the next.
"I don't see how we're going to last," he muttered.
"We just have to keep fighting," Carsis said, "unless you want to just give up and die right now."
"Nah, I've got a couple years left in me yet."
Grunting, Carsis swiped sideways, severing the monster's arm at the shoulder, and spun around in the opposite direction, splitting the monster's face wide open with his greatsword.
"Elikar seems to be holding out pretty good, but his armor is getting pretty banged up," Gareth commented, looking over towards the white-armored figure.
"Yes, he's been fighting monsters all over the place now. He's gotten use to swinging and swinging and swinging," Carsis said, parrying a sword thrust and viciously slashing open the monster's chest in the same motion.
"Yeah, well, between the three of us I think we could hold them off through the gates."
"Yes, but we have to get to the gates first."
* * *
Loraan could sense them several hours before he could see them, confirming his worst fears as he rode towards Lunas. His warhorse seemed to be able to sense them as well, head alert, eyes staring intently in the direction of the evil feeling. The past few towns he had passed through had either been empty and devoid even of corpses, or utterly devastated with burned and mutilated bodies lying everywhere. In either case, there had not been a single survivor in any of the towns he had passed, nor in the wilderness or surrounding countryside, save the abandoned warhorse he now rode. The farms along a few of the main roads were mostly intact, as if waiting for farmers to harvest the vegetables and fruits, but no life could be found anywhere. Loraan did not know how far north the destruction had spread, but with an aura of evil to the north, he knew that if the town of Lunas was not already destroyed, it would be if he did not arrive quickly. He could sense a sort of urgency, as if something called him. It was not simply the desire to save the city, but something else. . . a beacon of some sort, although Loraan did not know what this power could be. He spurred his horse into a gallop towards the north, a dust cloud rising in his wake, covering the decaying corpses on the roadside.
* * *
Amura's eyes snapped open, flaring blue. He could sense something to the northwest, an amassed presence of evil. "A real army this time," he thought. Reaching outwards with his power, focusing all of his strength into it, he probed the nature of the forces. "With an overseer, and one of power, no less," he hissed, "Well, at least it isn't a general." The overseers of Hell tended to be vicious, and at the very least were a sign that the attackers were an organized force rather than just a random band of marauding monsters. The generals, however, were very bad news, and the presence of a general usually meant the town, and its inhabitants had a slim chance of survival. His destination happened to be in the northwest, where the force was, and he could not help but think that this attack was not a coincidence, especially not with a force of the magnitude he was sensing. But he could feel another presence, something he could not identify or explain. His sense of it had grown stronger as he approached Lunas, but he could never identify what it was. And to the west, closer to himself and moving to the north at moderate speed, was exactly the same presence. This puzzled him greatly, for how could the same presence be in two different locations at once? It simply made no sense. "No matter. I'll deal with it when I come to it. But for now, I must get to Lunas before it is too late," he thought. Focusing inwards, he psionically relayed instructions to his minion to guard the neighboring towns. Drawing on his power, he tore a hole through reality and sent himself through it, disappearing into the Void.
* * *
Several miles away, Sulaco rode through Khanduras after departing from the emptied city of Ulethos. He rode northwards, always north, without consciously knowing why he did so.
Chapter 2: Lunas
Gareth was staring intently into the bottom of his wooden mug, apparently attempting to decipher the meaning of life and the universe. He could feel the presence of ancient beings in his head, lazily flowing about, tracing flowering patterns of light and joy across the surface of his mind. Their songs imparted long-lost wisdom and he strained to hear the secrets of the Abyss. The beautiful, wailing songs grew louder as he continued to reach out for them, until finally it pierced through his mind, a sharp, shrieking call.
The screams brought him out of his drunken reverie.
Stumbling out of his chair and groping with his right arm for his longsword, he wheeled around trying to get his bearings. Head swimming, he reached behind himself for a wall to steady him, and drew back his hand, "DAMN that's hot! What the -" Turning around, he finally noticed the solid sheet of fire crawling up the wall behind his seat. Looking around, he realized that he was the only one left in the tavern, having been lost in his alcohol-induced dream he had not noticed the screams of men, women and children outside. The others had left the tavern, taking their weapons with them, long before the tavern had caught fire.
The hot buttered rum Gareth had just recently gulped down continued to do its work, casting a blanket of sluggishness over his body. Stumbling a few steps, he grabbed for his sword, but only succeeded in knocking it to the floor. Cursing, he bent down to pick it up, cracking his head against the edge of the table sharply. Reeling, he stumbled backwards and tripped over his overturned chair, and fell over onto the floor flailing his arms.
Groaning and clutching his head, he looked upwards and waited for the world to stop revolving about him. He was barely fast enough to avoid the blade that slashed down, biting into the wood just a few centimeters from his left ear. The sudden shock finally cleared his foggy head. The veteran leapt onto his feet and raced the several steps forward to his sword. His hand closed around the hilt as he rolled forward and away from the enemy's blade, which was buried in the floor not 5 feet away. Coming to his feet, Gareth turned to survey his attacker. Scales of red-greenish hue covered an impressively muscled bulk, standing about two heads above an average man. The head was disturbingly humanoid. Long spires of bone protruded from its back and a wicked set of claws clicked as the monster yanked its embedded sword from the floor.
"Damn bastards just won't quit," Gareth muttered under his breath.
With an ancient and damaged great axe in the other hand, the monster charged forward, bringing the axe over its head to cleave Gareth in two. The axe whistled through air as Gareth quickly stepped to the side, swinging two-handed with his longsword through the creature's midsection. The sword skidded off hard scales, dislodging several, and scraped across the monster's side drawing blue blood in a large gout. Gareth struggled to hold onto his sword as the impact almost jolted it from his grasp, then rolled backwards as the monster's sword whistled through the space his head had just vacated. Regaining his footing, he suddenly heard a crash from behind and turned just in time to see a blade coming through the wall towards him in a long, clumsy arc. Nevertheless, Gareth had been caught by surprise and as he stepped away he cursed at the long gash that ran across his left arm. A twin of the monster that had attacked him, the newcomer stepped through the burning wall that it had just smashed to kindling. The fire, meanwhile, had spread to the floors, and several sets of chairs and tables burned almost merrily, giving off intense heat and causing Gareth to sweat profusely. He adjusted his slippery grip on the hilt of his long sword and surveyed the two monsters in front of him, each wielding an axe and a sword roughly twice as long as his own, and perhaps three or four times heavier.
"This doesn't seem like a very fair fight to me, gentlemen," he said aloud. The monsters replied by charging forward, weapons swinging. Lethal, bladed edges whistled through air in a crude dance of death as the monsters collided with Gareth. Blocking strike after strike from four different weapons whistling around him, Gareth could feel his arms fatiguing. "Damn these guys swing hard," he thought to himself as he again just barely parried an axe-swing with the flat of his blade. He was slowly loosing ground, backing away from the onslaught of whirling blades and axes. He could not spare a look behind him without risking an opening that could perhaps result in a separation between his head and his body and so could only stumble backwards blindly. The monsters seemed content with forcing him slowly backwards, expending only as much effort as needed to drive him backwards. "Once I trip on something, they'll come in with those axes and it'll be all over," Gareth thought grimly. Suddenly, he saw an opening - a sword arm too low and an axe raised too high - allowing him to thrust forwards while twisting sideways to avoid being sliced in half by the other monster. His opponent grunted as the sword cut sideways across its body, finally slicing through his scales and ripping a large gash in its abdomen. Blue liquid gushed out in an obscene mix of fluid and organs, spilling onto the floor and spattering the nearby area in filth. As the monster fell, it's sword sliced across the back of Gareth's leg, slicing through leather, skin, and muscle. Gasping with pain, he stumbled backwards and fell, losing his grip on his sword as he tried to catch himself on both hands.
The remaining monster turned towards him, raising its axe to deliver the deathblow. Eyes straining up at the blade, Gareth awaited the stroke. The blade fell, fell, fell. . . and thudded into the wooden floor inches from his face, followed shortly by the monster's bulk. Kicking upwards and to the side as the monster fell on top of him, Gareth pushed the monster up and away from him, who collapsed to the floor within an arm-span away. Standing quickly, Gareth grabbed his sword from where he dropped it and swung it in an overhead arc, bringing it down hard on the monster's throat. A spray of blue covered Gareth as the head separated from the body, throat opened and gushing obscenely. "Well done. Although, you do realize I had already killed him before he hit the floor. . ." Gareth started and brought his sword halfway up until he noticed the speaker, a man encased in bloodstained ornate armor and grim determination. "It's been a long time, Elikar," Gareth said breathing heavily.
"That it has, Gareth. You seem no different now than you were then, always laying down on the job," the man said, grinning.
"Well, now, it isn't my fault if my feet can't make up their minds about where they want to go."
"Yes well, if your mind had not been immersed in drink perhaps it could have lent your feet some of its wisdom."
"Hey, the drink warms your belly and loosens your sword-arm, always a good thing in a battle."
"What good is loosening your sword arm if your legs can't carry you?"
"At least you can still swing. If all you can do is walk you're no better than fresh meat."
Elikar laughed, "I must concede that point."
"Well, of course."
Elikar sighed, "Had we met earlier we could have talked for a while my friend -"
"Yeah, but with all those damned monsters running around it can be hard to get anywhere these days."
"- and we hardly have the time for idle talk. As you can see -" he said, motioning to the bodies lying on the floor, "this town is under attack -"
"So what else is new?"
"- and the soldiers garrisoned here are untrained and outnumbered."
"Speaking of numbers, where's Carsis?"
"Carsis is outside, fighting back the horde."
Looking around, Elikar's gaze fell to the beer mug. "You are lucky that you chose a bar at the rear of Lunas."
"Yeah, I guess."
"With so many recently arrived heroes, we managed to slow the monsters' advance through the town, so most haven't been able to make it back here."
"But a few managed to slip by you guys anyway, so I gotta clean up for you guys back here. Can't you young men do any better than that?" Gareth said laughingly.
"Well, we didn't realize there would be senile old men to protect back here," Elikar said wryly.
"What the - senile old man? I guess I asked for that, you bastard."
Suddenly, another armored figure rushed into the building, slightly out of breath from running. "Elikar, what do you think you're doing? We have a town to defend out here."
"It's our old friend, Gareth. Don't you recognize him?" Elikar said, motioning towards Gareth.
"Gareth? Why, it most certainly is!" The new man said, striding towards him and capturing him in a bear hug.
"Haha. . . Carsis, you still are the same rough man you used to be," Gareth said as he felt the breath being crushed out of him by his comrade.
"Sorry if your old bones can't take it," Carsis laughed.
"My bones have taken more punishment than yours ever will, so I'd be quiet if I were you."
"Sure old man. But we've got a battle to fight, and the hordes aren't getting any thinner," Elikar sighed.
"Well, at any rate, I agree we're not going to get anything done standing around talking," Gareth said.
Taking a look around to check his belongings, Gareth walked towards the door. "Okay, let's go."
* * *
"You have a talent for understatement, Elikar," Gareth growled, as he witnessed the onslaught. "This isn't a horde of monsters. . . this is a tide." Elikar grunted as he swung his two-handed sword with one hand, slicing open a grotesque face, spattering blade and armor with blue fluids. He kicked the body backwards and swung his blade sideways, severing the neck. The body toppled to the floor. Elikar turned towards a new attacker, raising his shield to block an axe blow then using the shield to bash the assailant in the face, crushing bone with a sickening crunch. As the monster howled and stumbled backwards, Elikar stabbed forward with his blade, impaling the monster and almost yanking the blade from his hands as the body fell backwards. Placing his foot on the body's chest, Elikar yanked his sword from the body and smashed the pommel into an onrushing demon.
Gareth and Carsis worked side-by-side, swords rising and falling as they parried and sliced and chopped. Other warriors fought alone or in groups of three or four against packs of the red and green monsters. But no matter how many of the monsters fell, more and more streamed through the town gates. Though the human warriors fought bravely, every once in a while an axe would get through, cleaving a man in half, chopping off a limb, cutting open a head. As more and more humans fell, more and more monsters continued coming through the gates. "Ah shit," Gareth said grimly, as he took a look around at the slowly dwindling number of defenders.
"We're not going to be able to hold out for much longer," Carsis said between breaths.
Gareth chopped a monster in the leg, using extra force to cut through the scales, then sliced upwards to catch the monster under the chin, slicing the jaw neatly off and cracking the head backwards. The monster stumbled back, howling in pain, and rushed forward in a frenzy, dropping its sword to swing its axe two-handed over its head. Gareth rushed forwards, rolling under and past the blow, and impaled the monster right through the chest. Putting his foot to the monster's chest, Gareth slid the monster off his sword and turned to meet the next.
"I don't see how we're going to last," he muttered.
"We just have to keep fighting," Carsis said, "unless you want to just give up and die right now."
"Nah, I've got a couple years left in me yet."
Grunting, Carsis swiped sideways, severing the monster's arm at the shoulder, and spun around in the opposite direction, splitting the monster's face wide open with his greatsword.
"Elikar seems to be holding out pretty good, but his armor is getting pretty banged up," Gareth commented, looking over towards the white-armored figure.
"Yes, he's been fighting monsters all over the place now. He's gotten use to swinging and swinging and swinging," Carsis said, parrying a sword thrust and viciously slashing open the monster's chest in the same motion.
"Yeah, well, between the three of us I think we could hold them off through the gates."
"Yes, but we have to get to the gates first."
* * *
Loraan could sense them several hours before he could see them, confirming his worst fears as he rode towards Lunas. His warhorse seemed to be able to sense them as well, head alert, eyes staring intently in the direction of the evil feeling. The past few towns he had passed through had either been empty and devoid even of corpses, or utterly devastated with burned and mutilated bodies lying everywhere. In either case, there had not been a single survivor in any of the towns he had passed, nor in the wilderness or surrounding countryside, save the abandoned warhorse he now rode. The farms along a few of the main roads were mostly intact, as if waiting for farmers to harvest the vegetables and fruits, but no life could be found anywhere. Loraan did not know how far north the destruction had spread, but with an aura of evil to the north, he knew that if the town of Lunas was not already destroyed, it would be if he did not arrive quickly. He could sense a sort of urgency, as if something called him. It was not simply the desire to save the city, but something else. . . a beacon of some sort, although Loraan did not know what this power could be. He spurred his horse into a gallop towards the north, a dust cloud rising in his wake, covering the decaying corpses on the roadside.
* * *
Amura's eyes snapped open, flaring blue. He could sense something to the northwest, an amassed presence of evil. "A real army this time," he thought. Reaching outwards with his power, focusing all of his strength into it, he probed the nature of the forces. "With an overseer, and one of power, no less," he hissed, "Well, at least it isn't a general." The overseers of Hell tended to be vicious, and at the very least were a sign that the attackers were an organized force rather than just a random band of marauding monsters. The generals, however, were very bad news, and the presence of a general usually meant the town, and its inhabitants had a slim chance of survival. His destination happened to be in the northwest, where the force was, and he could not help but think that this attack was not a coincidence, especially not with a force of the magnitude he was sensing. But he could feel another presence, something he could not identify or explain. His sense of it had grown stronger as he approached Lunas, but he could never identify what it was. And to the west, closer to himself and moving to the north at moderate speed, was exactly the same presence. This puzzled him greatly, for how could the same presence be in two different locations at once? It simply made no sense. "No matter. I'll deal with it when I come to it. But for now, I must get to Lunas before it is too late," he thought. Focusing inwards, he psionically relayed instructions to his minion to guard the neighboring towns. Drawing on his power, he tore a hole through reality and sent himself through it, disappearing into the Void.
* * *
Several miles away, Sulaco rode through Khanduras after departing from the emptied city of Ulethos. He rode northwards, always north, without consciously knowing why he did so.