Well golly, I turn around and suddenly I have a pair of e-mails abusing me for not posting. Well, sorry for that, and thanks for kicking my backside into gear. So, to reward you I'm presenting one super-sized chapter spectacular! Wheee! That's right, it's almost all here! In this chapter Connor faces Endelon and Snowflake. Dominic goes toe-to-toe with Kendar. And Jo says literally! We also shall witness the coming of the dread Tyranthraxus. And, as in the title, by the end of this chapter a hero *shall* fall.
Read on and enjoy;
Chapter Sixteen: Fall of the Heroes
Endelon had spotted at the last moment that had been simply a trick, much like the illusory images the Shadow Lord had summoned back at the lake. He had come to a sudden halt, his dark blue eyes darting about as he looked for the real thing. Then Dominic had struck, brazenly assaulting the temple in the middle of the ritual. Endelon spun and leaped down onto a lower walkway, darting along it as he headed towards the bold Garou hero.
His black robes swirled around him as he ran along one of the higher walkways, watching as Dominic carried Syntax swiftly along a lower one. Endelon grinned as he matched paces with Dominic. His robes billowed outward as he reached underneath to draw his blades. Dominic would be his, and to him the glory of destroying the Render, greatest of the Garou of Detroit. With such a victory under his belt who could say what he could achieve? He allowed his thoughts to briefly flash to Snowflake, to how he had felt as her flesh had pressed against his while they hunted together. Then his cold blue eyes locked once more on Dominic, ready to end this. The Shadow Lord had chosen his battleground, he had trapped himself. There was nowhere else to run.
The massive leathery arm shot out in front of Endelon as Kendar charged up along another pathway. The war leader's flaming yellow eyes peered down at Endelon. You overstep yourself old friend, I am war leader. Dominic is mine.
It is you who overstep yourself, snarled Endelon sharply, it was I who cut him first at the lake, he is mine by right. Kendar paused to consider this. His massive chest expanding as he drew in a long, deep breath. His powerful arms drew inward as he frowned down at Endelon. Endelon stared back at him, unintimidated despite the size difference. In the past he had often granted Kendar the right to hunt kills that belonged to him. But now, with such a prize before them, there was no way he would give up his rightful claim.
I am sorry, my friend. One of Kendar's tree trunk like arms swung out suddenly. Endelon was caught by surprise, the furious blow slamming into his chest and sending him sailing into the air. He spun about helplessly, his black robes flailing about him as he fell, Kendar's words reverberating against his ears. But there comes a time when glory overrides loyalty and friendship.
Kendar twisted, his dark eyes casting about quickly as he plummeted towards the green depths of The Pit. Options and solutions flashed through his head like wildfire. He had a solution, but he would need to strike perfectly. It must be fast, yet powerful, else it wouldn't work. He allowed a half breath to focus himselfthen he acted. His arm shot out suddenly, the blade of his klaive biting deep into the stone of another walkway as he tumbled past. There was a sudden jerk as his blade arrested his fall, leaving him hanging over The Pit, his klaive his only lifeline. As he pulled himself back up Endelon heard Kendar's bellow of challenge to Dominic. Dark blue eyes narrowed in betrayed anger.
This way! She must have gone this way!
Hurry, we'll cut he- Agggggghhhh!
What the hell? Marbles?
Get moving you idiots, The Master needs the staff to finish his ritual!
I stepped in some chewing gum.
This bitch is starting to-
-really piss me off!
Come back here you damned faerie!
Lord Juvariel Cruss couldn't help but smile to himself as he heard the wild cries and confused wails of the Black Spirals. Through it all could also be heard the wild giggles of Puck as she led them on a merry chase through their own tunnels. Cruss himself waited by the underground stream he and Puck had discovered. It was by this that they planned to make good their escape once Puck had stolen an important part of the ritual and hopefully brought it to a dead standstill.
His black gloved hands kept curling into fists as he nervously bounced on the balls of his feet, not exactly pleased with how much time it was taking for Puck to get back to him. His silver eyes anxiously watching the two tunnels that lead into the cavern he was currently waiting at. But for the continued howls of failure from the Spirals he would have feared the worst.
Suddenly a small figure in baggy red overalls and a bright green shirt came leaping and bounding out of one of the tunnels. Her wild, multicolored, eyes caught his as a triumphant and mischievous grin spread across her face. The wild blue, green, and purple feathers that formed her hair lifted up proudly as she raised her arm to show him the black staff gripped therein. Despite himself, Cruss smiled at her cheerful victory antics.
Then his face froze in horror. Looming forth from the second tunnel, stepping out directly behind the tiny pooka trickster, came the hulking shape of a Black Spiral Dancer. Its eyes gleamed bright red as black lips curled back to reveal a fanged grin of triumph. Puck saw the look on Cruss' face and blinked in surprise, spinning about as if in slow motion to see what had disturbed him. The massive black arm of the Spiral rose up, claws flexed and curved inward.
Puck's eyes widened in surprise.
Cruss screamed in horror.
The Spiral struck with a wild roar that deafened him. Streams of red blood trailed out of Puck's body to chase after the claws as they tore through her midsection. The tiny form was tossed through the air like a broken plaything. The staff clattered to the ground as Puck crashed down amongst the rubble and rocks strewn about on the rough floor. Cruss dashed forward, unable to believe what he had just seen. He skidded to a stop, dropping to one knee and looking down at the pale, too pale, face of the once lively pooka.
The words were choked out of him, he felt as though his own guts had been torn open. He looked at the deep gouges that ripped through her, each almost as wide across as her thin, frail arms. The wild array of colors she usually wore were now all being washed in a bright red stream of blood. She smiled weakly at him. Motioned him closer.
I should tell youmost important questionmost important question everI havethe answer
he felt tears well in his eyes as he watched her struggle for words. She smiled softly as she closed her own eyes, her body going limp as she spoke the words.
It crossed the roadto get to thethe other side
She tried to laugh, but instead passed out from the pain. Cruss looked up through a veil of his own tears. He wouldn't have expected to feel like this. Thatthat stupid, idiotic, crazy, damn pooka! If only she hadn't rushed off all the time, if only she hadn't insisted on helping! Damn insufferable little twit! How dare she make him care about her crazy, wild, insane little life! He, a great noble of a grand house, weeping like a woman for some oh so common commoner. He grabbed at his cape and tore it, attempting to make some bandages to help bind her wounds. Cruss snarled as he heard the laughter, he looked up, his eyes blazing.
Haw haw haw! Lookit that Stinkface. Looks to me like I went and killed what you never could. Should I feel all fuckin' proud I wasted a goddamn faerie? The one who had attacked Puck lifted his bloodstained claws and licked them with a bright pink tongue. Mmmm, she tastes like apples. Hehehehe.
Shut it, snarled the leader of four more of the creatures that now stormed into the cavern. Two of them scampered forward, the smaller, sleeker ones grabbing at the staff eagerly and chattering between themselves as they rushed it back to their chief. He grabbed it with a snarl of pleasure. We have what we came for, let's hurry back, there may still be time for real glory. He then chuckled and glanced over his shoulder. And since you're so good at it, Quiggis, why don't you and Tick finish those two faerie freaks off for me?
Cruss didn't understand all the wild, feral blather. But he did clearly understand the two shapes that turned towards him and Puck. The killer and one smaller friend. They were the two who had been chosen to finish the job. He looked down at Puck's pale face, she was too weak to risk moving, if he picked her up it could very well mean her death. Nor, with the Spirals here, did he have time to try and bandage her wounds more effectively. He lifted his head and glared at the approaching Spirals, his eyes burning with anger.
Begone from here, you shall not have her life, so I swear.
Wow, big fuckin' words from a little whelp faerie, snarled the larger of the two in the incomprehensible growling language of the Spirals. He advanced slowly, his smaller comrade circling to the right and snickering as it gnashed its fangs together. Cruss stood up slowly, his eyes burning with anger. He gripped the hilt of his sword as he allowed the full power of The Dreaming to flow into him. He felt the rush of the ancient energies that powered his race. His golden hair and silver cape suddenly began to be tossed in an invisible wind. Both Spirals paused in wonder as they saw gleaming streams of golden fire spring up about him, crawling over him yet causing no harm. Cruss glared at them.
You shall not harm Lady Puck as long as I still draw breath. Come then creatures, let me remind you why tales of old spoke not only of the beauty of the fae, but of our terrible wrath as well.
Without waiting for them to have time to consider his words, Cruss sprang. Leaping to the side and rushing straight at the smaller Spiral. Its eyes widened in surprise as Cruss drew his blade in a single, smooth, sweeping motion. The razor sharp silver sword sliced deeply into the beast's neck, half severing its head in a single stroke. It managed a gurgled gasp of shock as it collapsed backwards to the ground. Cruss jerked his blade free of the stinking thing and spun about to face the charge of the second.
He dashed forward, eager to meet it in its headlong rush. His eyes focused on the blood spattered right hand that had dared to strike Puck. His hands squeezed tighter around the hilt of his blade as he shifted his grip. The Spiral howled as it swung its arm out, claws seeking to pluck his head from his shoulders. But Cruss lifted his blade suddenly and braced himself as he turned towards the approaching blow.
The Spiral's wail of agony was music to his ears. Its arm smashed hard into his blade, the force of its own swing helping his sword shear through flesh and bone. Cruss was tossed back by the impact, but somersaulted in midair and landed nimbly on his feet. The Spiral whimpered as it clutched at the severed stump of its right arm. Cruss grinned looking down at the clawed hand that lay on the rocky ground.
That was the price for daring to touch a ladythe price for harming her shall be much worse.
The Spiral's eyes flared bright red as it charged in. Its clawed hand moving in a blur as it slashed at him. Cruss retreated quickly before it, barely managing to stay one step ahead of the enraged creature. He was suddenly jerked to the side as it managed a glancing hit to his shoulder, ripping through his blue tunic and scraping its claws across his silvery mithril mail shirt. He stumbled and fell to the ground.
Above him the Spiral roared in victory as it lunged forward, its jaws gaping open, its fangs gleaming wickedly. Cruss grabbed his sword and shoved it towards the beast blindly, praying for his life yet knowing it was too late. The jaws clamped shut with a snap, spittle and blood flecking across Cruss' face.
He blinked.
Blood gushed and sprayed down his arm, soaking his blue tunic in a thick wash of gore. The Spiral had impaled itself on his blade even as it had sought his life. The great black beast managed one last snarl of outrage before slumping forward. Cruss almost giggled in relief as the huge beast collapsed atop him. He let out a breath he hadn't been aware he was holding and thanked whatever gods of fate had seen fit to spare him. Then he realized the ungainly creature was still on top of him. He struggled and pushed at it to little avail.
Why does this never happen to the hero in the storybooks, he muttered as he tried to squirm out from under the corpse of his defeated foe.
Render!!! It is your time to die now!
Dominic looked up as Kendar the Head Collector, War Chief of the Black Spirals, stormed forward. His eyes blazed with yellow light, his lips were peeled back from massive dagger like teeth. In his hand he gripped the hilt of his giant sword and swung it through the air. The faces carved upon it wailed and cried in a maddened chorus, their fanged maws seeming to cry out for blood. The other Black Spirals fell back, allowing Kendar to pass. Grinning eagerly as they watched him approach Dominic.
Dominic waited quietly, his dark eyes narrowed and watching his coming foe. Blood stained his fur and dripped from his blade, some of it his blood, some of it the blood of fallen Spirals. Behind him stood Syntax, her dark hair plastered to her face by sweat as she continued to battle against the dark spirits that were swarming about them. Dominic raised Bonespur, the green lights of The Pit gleaming off the blade and reflecting against the runes inscribed upon it. A glinting image of the rune of duty flashed across Dominic's face.
Then, with a roar, Kendar surged forward. His great blade hissing through the air in a massive sweep. Dominic jerked back, retreating as Kendar fell into the figure eight pattern of attack once more. His great blade sweeping down, across, then up, back, and down again. He advanced with a toothy sneer as Dominic retreated before him.
What will you do now, Render? There is no more space to maneuver, no space to run.
He was right. The walkway was too narrow for Dominic to slip past Kendar like he had last time. Retreat wasn't even a true solution, since Syntax had collapsed the walkway. Dominic was retreating towards Syntax, and then a sheer drop into the diseased filth of The Pit. Kendar chuckled ominously as he advanced.
You beat me last time through luck, but you shall not do so again. I am better then you are Render! I am Kendar! I am unstoppable!
Lord Fer-guath! Stinkface charged back into The Maw, dashing amongst the fallen pillars as he approached the site of the ritual. He grinned as he saw The Master look up and see him and his pack approaching, he knew this would mean honor for himself and his packmates. He raised the black staff clutched in his clawed hand. Lord Fer-guath, I have it!
Fer-guath looked up weakly, his green gleaming eye seemed hazy and unsure. Stinkface noted the wound on the aged theurge's back, and the stream of blood coursing from it across the ceremonial robes. The theurge had obviously been using his powers, for he looked weak and exhausted. The source of his agitation was clear, on a distant walkway stood the Glass Walker theurge, her gray eyes flashing dangerously as she battled Fer-guath's summoned spirits. The Mage scampered forward, his eyes eager as he grabbed the staff from Stinkface.
Yes, yes, good, good. With this ritual can be finished, yes! The Master glanced over at Stinkface, the eyeless gaze seeming to be pleased with this turn of events. His mouth twisted into an odd smile of sorts as he nodded. Stinkface's chest swelled in pride at this honor gained. He glanced back at his pack to see if they too had noted his reward. As he did so he spotted a russet furred wolf charging along a walkway towards The Maw temple. It snarled as it rushed forward. The Master turned and saw the onrushing wolf too, a sick grin appearing on his face.
One last chance at redemption, old friend? I think not. He glared at Stinkface and pointed. Slay him, do not allow him to interrupt the ritual! Stinkface nodded, here at last was a chance at true glory. Treeshaker and Rockcrusher hissed in glee. Pugdog snarled uneasily. Stinkface turned and ran towards the approaching ronin.
The warbling war cry echoed out of his throat as he ran forward. His arms out to his sides and claws ready. As he approached the ronin came to a stop, his arms dropping by his sides as he seemed to wait for them. He was calm, too calm. Stinkface felt a moment of concern pass through him, worry that perhaps the ronin was capable of beating him and his pack.
The ronin spun in surprise as three figures sprang from an upper walkway and dropped towards him. Gorefist and her pack. Stinkface snarled as he quickly rushed forward again, eager to catch the ronin unaware and rip him apart. Rapes-the-World and Fangmouth were in the lead, the two experienced warriors coming in quickly. The ronin spun to meet them, his clawed hands moving in circular blurs as he blocked their blows.
Gorefist's scarred face twisted into an eager grin as she raised her hand and pointed it towards the ronin. Rapes-the-World and Fangmouth both ducked and moved to the side, having been expecting this attack. With a hiss Gorefist's talons shot from her fingertips and slashed through the air. But the ronin suddenly seemed to melt away, shifting in one instant into his lupus form. The small wolf only a fourth of the size of his crinos form.
With the ronin out of the way the claws came rushing for Stinkface. He bellowed in fear and dove to the ground, narrowly avoiding the claws. Not so lucky were Treeshaker and Rockcrusher, both of the smaller ragabesh wailed in pain as the claws tore deeply into them.
Without missing a beat the ronin sprang forward, his jaws closing around Fangmouth's throat as the ronin once more shifted back to his towering crinos form. Jaws ripped and shredded through flesh as Fangmouth's head was torn from his shoulders. Grabbing onto the wrist of the dead warrior, the ronin swung it around and slammed it hard into Rapes-the-World's chest. The second Black Spiral Dancer stumbled from the impact and toppled over the edge of the walkway, plummeting down onto another stone path far below with a bone crunching crash. With a snarl Stinkface and Gorefist both charged forward at the same time.
The ronin sprang towards the charging male, his hand snapping out, claws hooking into the flesh of the Black Spiral's throat and ripping it apart as his leap carried him past his foe. He landed lightly, spinning around and snapping out his other hand in a lightning fast blow to the beast's back, splitting his ribcage and sending him crashing forward into the female. She had to waste an instant shoving the stunned Dancer aside, and in that instant the ronin was on her. His claws tore deeply into her shoulder as he grabbed her arm. Then, spinning about, he jammed his shoulder into her armpit and used her arm like a lever to toss her into the air and off the walkway. For the choking and coughing young pup at his feet he simply spared an instant to kick him sharply in the ribs and also knock him off the walkway. He then spun and continued for The Maw, intent on stopping the ritual.
Impressive, ronin. Or do you prefer Conner? The black robed figure sprang up onto the walkway from a lower one. The black robe wrapping his body fluttered about him as he turned to watch the ronin. His blue eyes seemed dead and unemotional, even as his face twisted into a scowl. You and I have an unfinished duel to conclude. His voice was a soft whisper as he pulled back his robe and drew forth two blackened blades. Silver etchings glittered on them as he twirled them about his fingers. Don't worry, this won't take but a moment.
The ronin's eyes narrowed as he watched the sparkling klaives. This Black Spiral was decidedly deadly, and nothing to be taken lightly. He watched the Dancer's movements, they were sure and smooth, the movements of a skilled warrior. This one would be difficult, it would cost him precious time. He glanced up at where Quentin and the others had started the ritual again. Time he didn't have.
He and the Black Spiral Dancer looked up at the sound of the voice. Snowflake stood above them, standing casually upon one of the twisting stone pathways. She held in her hands his silver battle claws, the light of them reflected in her eyes as she grinned. It seems odd that Master Endelon is armed while you are not. She tossed the claws down, they landed with a clatter in front of his feet. Arm yourself, Conner. Let us have a true test of who is the better warrior.
Endelon's eyes remained the same, unreadable and calm, but his mouth curled into a smirking grin. Yes, arm yourself, Conner. It will make no difference.
Conner shifted down into his human form. His icy blue eyes glanced up at Snowflake as he picked up the claws. He shrugged his shoulders, pulling off the bloodstained and tattered trench coat and allowing it to fall to the ground. His muscled torso gleamed in the green glow of The Pit as he strapped on his blades. He spared one more glance at Snowflake as he reached up and brushed at the strip of white fur that tied his hair back into a ponytail. Then he jerked his jaw slightly upward, the pale twin crescent shaped scars on his throat standing out from his otherwise tanned skin. He turned his attention back to Endelon, his gaze steady as he let his hands fall to his side, ready for anything.
Endelon pulled off his black robe, casting it aside uncaringly. He remained in his crinos form, patches of black fur poking out from between the filth coated and bloodstained bandages that were wrapped tightly about his slim body. The twin klaives in his hands danced lightly as they suddenly became wreathed in green flames. Endelon's mouth twisted into a grin, his needle-like fangs shining sharp and deadly. His deep blue eyes seemed to finally gleam with a small touch of emotion, and it was eagerness.
There was a moment of calm. The calm before the storm.
Then they both struck.
Endelon came in fast and hard. His style wild and full of sweeping blows that arced through the air with fierce flashes of green flame. Conner's moves were sharp and defined, the subtle and sharp moves of a shifting breeze. He turned and twisted, never accepting the full brunt of any of Endelon's strikes, waiting for an opening. For his part, Endelon's practiced dance and flurry of attacks left no place for Conner to exploit.
Then Endelon twirled about and lashed out sharply with his left blade, the weapon streaking down towards Conner's gut. His other blade sweeping up and over the first strike towards his face. Conner jerked back, his claws sweeping in opposite directions to block both attacks. Even as he did so he reversed the movements and sent his claws stabbing inward, at the same moment shifting into his crinos form, using the extra power and reach he gained by doing so.
Endelon snarled in pain as he sprang back, a series of bloody holes cut into his chest. His eyes narrowed as he again dropped into a defensive posture. Conner raised his own blades, the silver points stained crimson, as he advanced.
Conner charged, faking a leap forward. Endelon raised his blades higher to block the expected leap, allowing Conner to rush in closer. There was a confused flurry of claws and flaming klaives. Silver streaks and green trails of flame slashing about before their eyes. Then Conner grabbed a hold of Endelon's chest, his fingers curling about the bandages tightly. With a snarl he turned, shifting down into his glabro form, that of the beast man. The throw suddenly having a lower axis point left Endelon off balance and he was easily tossed hard to the ground directly in front of Conner.
Once again using the Rising Storm maneuver, Conner transformed back up into his crinos form while striking downward. Endelon was sprawled on the ground, and with the added force and power to his blow Conner planned a quick end to the fight.
But Endelon's arm shot upward, his klaive wedging between the blades of Conner's claws and bringing the blow to a stop inches from his face. Endelon then twisted his weapon, pulling Conner off balance as Endelon's other blade slashed up and cut painfully into his gut.
Conner jerked back as Endelon spun to his feet in a blur of slashing knife blows. Conner tried to retreat in order to plan another attack, but Endelon kept coming, slashing about in a swirling dance of attack. Silver and green sparks flashed and burst about them as klaive met claw in ever greater blows.
As Conner staggered back he knew he was in trouble. Never before had he met a foe so skilled at combat. Endelon's klaives seemed near extensions of himself. They moved in accordance to his will in blindingly fast strikes that Conner could barely follow. His own defenses were starting to weaken, his arms becoming more sluggish. Endelon's cold eyes stared unmercifully at him as he pressed his attack, twisting about to force Conner to approach the side of the walkway, cutting off retreat.
Endelon struck fast and suddenly, both his klaives interlocking with Conner's claws and tossing them out wide. He then slid them free and snarled as he drove them forward in a double thrust lunge for Conner's chest. Conner desperately swung his claws inward and drove them down to block the attack. His claws caught on the hilts of the klaives and deflected them downward, where they gouged deeply and painfully into his leg. Conner growled in pain as Endelon twisted the knives, apparently intent on slicing Conner's leg open and rendering him helpless.
As he looked into the cool and deadly calm eyes across from him Conner saw Endelon's one mistake, and one weakness. He was a smaller wolf, weaker then his fellows. So he had trained himself with his blades. Trained and trained until such time as he was a warrior without match. But he had forgotten one thing in his singular quest for skill.
That the greatest weapon of all is your own body.
Conner's head snapped forward, lunging over the locked weapons as his jaw opened and his teeth bit down into Endelon's neck. The Spiral had been so focused on the weapons, he had forgotten that all Garou were armed by Gaia herself. Endelon snarled as Conner's head jerked up, tearing flesh and tossing the Dancer off balance. Claws jerked apart, tossing Endelon's arms out wide. Conner's claws arced out in a streak of silver, ripping through bandages and slashing bloody swaths across Endelon's chest. The force of the blow tossed the unbalanced master assassin backand with a snarl of shock and outrage he tumbled over the edge.
Conner grinned as he stumbled to his feet, his left leg holding him unsteadily as bright red blood gushed from the wound. He ticked his jaw upwards as he turned to once more look towards The Maw and the ritual. He raised his bloody claws and prepared to rush there and end this madness. Then, amidst the fluttering of a ragged blue summer dress, a slim figure with wild white hair dropped down between him and the temple. Conner felt his heart skip a beat as she grinned at him wickedly.
Not yet, my love. Surely you didn't think our business was done?
Robert Sands dashed through the tunnels. Ahead of him Sergeant Ross and Mr. Kay made sure the tunnels were clear. This entire operation had rather quickly gone down the crapper. It had become apparent that The Master considered him and his to be second rate flunkies in the great scheme. Robert Sands didn't intend to be anyone's flunky. Then had come that accursed attempt to kidnap the wolves, the only problem was that damned girl had proved to be some sort of bird freak capable of ripping up Mr. Kay long enough for her and the wolf to escape. Not good, not good at all. Why, if he only-
Mr. Kay managed to look up in surprise as he rounded the corner. Then the massive clawed hand clamped down upon his head, Robert Sands saw claws ripping through flesh as the massive werewolf rushed forward, smashing Mr. Kay's head so hard into the stone wall behind him that rock spilt and shattered. In the next instant a massive clawed hand was ripping into Mr. Kay's gut and tearing out through his back. Mr. Kay collapsed, disappearing amongst the shadows. Mr. Sands knew he would be too injured to do much of anything for some time.
Sergeant Ross died in the amount of time it took Robert Sands to realize what had happened to Mr. Kay. The fomor commander raised his gun to fire, but by then the great tawny furred and bloodstained beast had spun around. A clawed paw slashed into the helmeted head as it ripped it clean off Sergeant Ross' shoulders. The last of his guards collapsed to the ground in a bloody heap as the mad beast turned its gaze on him. Robert Sands shouted in fear as he turned and ran. Dashing down tunnels blindly.
Behind him he heard the wild howl of the creature as it came after him.
Suddenly the howl was answered by a cry ahead of him.
Robert Sands came to a sudden stop as two figures emerged from a passage in front of him. One was a massive brown werewolf with a scar running along its cheek. It snarled at him. Beside it was the small figure of the girl, her pale face eerily illuminated by the large glowing spider that hovered over her shoulder. She waved. With a growl of success the first wolf leapt into the passage behind him, blood dripping from its claws as it came to a stop. The brown wolf looked up and growled happily.
gushed the girl, her large dark eyes gleaming. Good to see you could make it, literally that is! Robert Sands glanced uneasily from one wolf to the other, doubtful he could defeat both and not particularly wanting to put himself at any risk in the first place. Suddenly the girl glanced up at the spider as it chattered at her. She turned to the massive brown werewolf. Charlie! Go follow Blue Storm now! Syntax needs your help to stop the ritual. Don't argue, just go! Leona and I will catch up.
The blue spider swiveled about and soared down the tunnel back towards The Pit. The large brown shape rushing after it. The girl turned back towards him, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a pistol. With a mutter of annoyance Robert recognized it as a standard issue sidearm of his men, obviously she had managed to deal with a couple of them and make off with some of their gear. Of course, the gun couldn't hurt him. But he would keep that to himself, for now.
Okay, Mr. Stinky-no-good-bad-person, she chirped as she pointed the gun at him. I'm sure my large wolf friend here would love to rip your head from your shoulders. The tawny furred werewolf growled in agreement. But, it's your lucky day because I'm the nice part of this little gang of ours. She pulled out a set of handcuffs, also stolen from Robert's men. Let's slap you in these, and be on our way. She walked towards him. Just turn around and put your hands behind your back.
Robert Sands smiled an easy smile and did as she asked. He glanced over at the wolf which was watching him carefully. Oh, this was too easy. Here was the perfect opportunity to get the test subjects he would need to bargain his way out of any problems with Pentex for his other failures in this operation. A werewolf and a shape shifting bird-girl had to be worth much to the researchers. He heard her tiny footsteps approach. Felt the metal click around his wrists. He grinned.
To the shocked surprise of the werewolf and werebird it must have looked like Robert Sands' entire body went blurry and out of focus. In the next blink of an eye he was facing them, without ever seeming to have turned around. For Robert it was simply a minor application of his powers. Even easier was to allow his hands to slide out of the handcuffs, which dropped to the ground with a clatter. He laughed as he lunged forward, grabbing onto the werebird and wresting the gun from her grip. He pressed it to her head as he glared up at the werewolf.
Don't move, wolf-bitch! I doubt even this silver resistant little bimbo here would survive a bullet entering her brain.
I'd just as soon not have to find out, whimpered the girl as she tugged and pried at his arm, but it was to no avail, Robert Sands' grip was like stone. He pressed the gun in harder against the girl's head as she continued to whimper and make little mewling sounds as she stared at the gun. He grinned at the werewolf.
Look, she's smart enough to be scared, you should too. Now, here's the deal. Return to human shape and go pick up those handcuffs. We're going for a little trip the three of us.
"Leona, suddenly said the girl, her voice calm, all signs of fear having left her. Please just rip his throat out.
Beg me, Render! Beg me not to take your worthless life! Kendar's laughter echoed about the cavern, mixing with the strange mad chants of the ritual. Behind him Dominic heard Syntax breath in sharply.
They near the final stages of the ritual!
Do you hear her, Render? Your time is over! The massive Black Spiral Dancer stormed forward, his muscles flexing with each mighty swing of his blade. The mad howls of it wailing about the chamber as Dominic continued to retreat. Kendar laughed again. Dominic felt himself bump into Syntax. His eyes narrowed as he realized he was out of room. What now, Render? Where is this great hero we have heard so spoken of in song and story? You are nothing! You hear me, Render, you are nothing!
Kendar bellowed in laughter as he advanced. His yellow eyes gleaming with madness. His blade hissing through the air, begging for blood. Behind him Dominic could see the other Spirals, eagerly watching as their war leader prepared to slay the two lone Garou. Pressed up against his back he felt Syntax gasping for breath, her body shaking in exhaustion as she struggled to fend off Fer-guath's dark powers. He ground his teeth together in frustration.
If you are planning to do something, gasped Syntax, do it quickly. The ritual-
I know about the damn ritual, snapped Dominic coldly as he watched Kendar come closer, a few more steps and they would either die under his blade or by plummeting into the waste of The Pit. He raised his klaive, the rune of duty shining across his features as he eyed Kendar. There was no way he could possibly defend against the mighty Black Spiral, he was too far outmatched in power, size, endurance, and time. So, if he didn't have the ability to defend, that left only a sudden attack that could pierce Kendar's defenses instantlyit was a small chance, but that was better then no chance at all.
Come now, Render, your cause is lost, as are you. You shall die here!
No, I plan to die in a very warm bed!
Dominic's arm shot forward, and a streak of silver sped from his hand.
Kendar's yellow eyes widened in surprise as the missile barely slipped past his sweeping blade and slammed into his neck. With a gurgled roar Kendar staggered, the klaive embedded to the hilt in his throat.
Dominic sprang forward in a blur of black and white fur. He grabbed onto Bonespur's hilt and jerked it out of Kendar's neck even as he swept up with his other arm and smashed his forearm into Kendar's throat. The Dancer's head jerked back from the powerful blow, leathery flesh ripping and tearing around his wound as blood sprayed out of it to coat Dominic's face. Kendar toppled to the ground, half rolling and half tumbling back down the walkway until he crashed up against the shocked legs of his packmates.
They looked down in shock at Kendar as he grabbed at his throat in an attempt to halt the gushing flow of blood. He propped his sword against the ground and shakily pushed himself to his feet. His yellow eyes burned with hatred as he stumbled back. Then, he turned and staggered for the safety of the nearby tunnels. The Black Spirals glanced uneasily at themselves, then heard the mad bellows.
Who's next!?! Dominic stood before them, coated in the blood of their war leader. His dark eyes glared at them as he raised Bonespur, its silver light now shining through a thick coating of Kendar's blood, making it seem to glow like molten red metal. Who else wishes to face the Render!?!
As one the Black Spiral Dancers started to stumble back from the fearsome sight. Each hoping one of the others would be the first to charge up that blood soaked stone path and face the fearsome monster whose name was spoken of in whispers within their tunnels. But none would charge.
As a pack the taint of terror passed through them, and they turned and fled after their war leader.
Dominic grunted in surprise at their flight. He then glanced back at Syntax. Her torn black bodysuit clung to her sweating body. Her short, shaggy black hair lay plastered against her stern face. She glared across the expanse of The Pit at the slumped figure of Fer-guath, his green eye gleaming at them in hatred.
Dominic could also see on a walkway that led to the collapsed ruins of the temple two figures locked in deadly combat. The first was Conner, apparently Jo had done her job of freeing the prisoners. The secondhe blinked, the second appeared to be Snowflake. But, she was dead, slain by Conner eight years ago in this very chamber. He scowled as he glanced back at The Maw, where the ritual was nearing completion.
he snarled, we have to stop the ritual, now!
I am aware of that, she said softly, her eyes still focused on Fer-guath. Steps are being taken even now, but you should get down there to help.
Dominic didn't waste time to argue, who knew whether she was just cowardly avoiding the battle or truly helping? In either case his skills would be needed down there. He turned and dashed off along the walkways, only praying there was still time.
Leona, just do it, I'm not worried. Leona listened to the words spoken so calmly by Jo as the gun was pressed to her head. The gunman snarled in surprise, looking down at his hostage incredulously.
What are you, an idiot?
Come on, Leona. We don't have all day. The ritual, they need you to help stop it. Leona looked into Jo's wide dark eyes and didn't see a trace of fear in them. It shocked her that she was suddenly so awed by the courage of one who but a little while ago she had thought of as the traitor to the tribes. For surely if he fired the gun into her head Jo would quite likely die. It was certainly possible for a Garou, or any of the Changing Breeds to shrug off gunfire as though it were nothing. But, such a serious wound could even spell doom for a fearsome Garou ahroun, much less a yappy bird spy.
Just do what I say, wolf-bitch, and your idiot friend won't get hurt. Leona felt her shoulders sag slightly. She was unsure of what to do. Surrender was never an option, but neither was betraying a friend. The man shook Jo. And you, shut up.
Oh, come on, snapped Jo as she stamped her foot. Is it expecting too much for a Garou to want to start a stupid fight? Usually I have to talk you walking shag carpets out of stupid attacks. And if ever I saw a stupid attack, this was it!
Damnit, shut up! The man shook Jo again, shouting at her in frustration. Leona's head snapped up, her eyes flashed as she snarled dangerously, feeling anger and rage course through her at hearing Jo's wild insults. What the hell was that idiot Corax's problem?
Ooooh, lookit that! I made the dumb little wolfie mad. Do you think she'll find it in her to manage to rip off a head, or will she just go widdle on a fire hydrant?
The man's eyes widened in shock as he looked down at his captive and pressed the gun so hard against her head it tilted it to the side. Don't you EVER shut up!?!
Leona bellowed in anger, her roar filling the cavern. She'd show that stupid little buzzard what a Garou could do if it wanted to! Powerful leg muscles launched her through the air straight towards the gunman. He snarled in anger as he pulled the trigger of his gun.
Click.
What the fuck? Robert Sands blinked in surprise. Leona's claws tore deeply into his throat, her hand closing down as she tore at his flesh. She sailed past him, landing lightly and snarling in glee as she saw his body collapse to the floor.
Should I have mentioned Syntax once taught me how to make machines stop working? Jo smirked as she pulled herself to her feet. Sorry about some of the insults, but you justwhat the hell?
Leona followed Jo's gaze to the fallen figure of the man. Instead of being drenched in his own blood there was simply sand pouring out of the wound on his neck. She looked down at her hand and watched small particles of sand sift through her fingers.
Oh, come on now, snickered a dry voice. Leona looked up in horror as the fomor climbed to his feet, his neck whole and intact. You didn't expect me to be easy to kill now, did you? Im a corporate executive. We dont die, we just move to Maui.
Leona snarled and sprang forward, planning on ending this quickly. Her arm shot forward, slamming hard into his chest. Buther hand penetrated too easily. She glanced down in shock as she saw that his chest had become a shifting mass of sand. Suddenly the sand hardened, becoming as solid as rock. Leona tried to jerk her arm out, but it was stuck.
Stupid fucking fleabags, snarled the fomor as he swung out his arm and backhanded Leona across the face. Her head snapped to the side roughly, the force of his blow had been incredible. She staggered as he swung his hand back around and punched her in the face. Her lip split open as one of her teeth was battered loose, blood sprayed from her mouth. You couldn't have made it easy on me? Do you have any idea how this operation is going to look on my personal records?
Leona bellowed in anger, grabbing her trapped arm and heaving upward with her whole body. She lifted the fomor into the air and slammed him hard into a wall. As she swung back she was jerked to a stop. His back had seemed to fuse with the stone wall. He chuckled at her as he grabbed onto her arm and pushed down while at the same instant jerking up with his knee. His kneecap was like the hardest of stones, it struck the joint in her arm and Leona screamed as it shattered. His chest suddenly opened up, and she collapsed backwards as her broken arm was freed.
Think about this, you tree-fucking backwoods freak. He released himself from the wall and dropped lightly to his feet. His hand reached out for her, his arm stretching out like a snake as he grabbed onto her throat. She lashed up with her left hand and slashed her claws into his arm. Like before it went soft, and then hardened like stone around her fist, trapping it. You very likely cost me my shot at making junior executive this year. His hand seemed to dissolve into mobile sand, it ground and snaked between her teeth and started to pour down her throat. Leona's eyes bugged out in fear as she felt herself begin choking to death. I was going to even get a key to the executive washroom back at the corporate headquarters, he lamented as she gagged on the sand gushing down her gullet.
The three gunshots echoed loudly in the enclosed tunnel. They slapped harmlessly through the fomor's sandy body and hit the wall behind him. He glanced up in mild surprise and annoyance to look at Jo. She smiled weakly as she dropped the gun and shrugged.
It seemed worth a try at the time
He jerked his hand back, releasing Leona's arm and drawing forth the sand clogging her throat. She coughed weakly, her mind dazed and confused as she tried to push herself to her feet. The fomor advanced on Jo. You cost me far too much you stinking bird. One of his hands shifted, thickening and flattening out into a rocklike hammer. I am going to crush that stupid face of yours like a ripe melon and drink your blood from your throat!
Jo's hands darted into the pockets of her jacket, as though searching for something. I don't think that sounds too pleasant. Literally that is. Literally unpleasant.
But first I'm going to rip out your tongue so you will finally be silent! He reached for her.
Leona, now! While his back is turned!
Leona wondered what Jo expected of her. Sure it had been nice to get a reprieve, but she sure wasn't in any sort of fighting shape. Still, she also wasn't about to leave a packmate alone, even the bird. With a growl of effort she managed to stumble to her feet. Ahead of her, directly in front of Jo, the fomor turned around, ready for any attack. He seemed to look puzzled as he realized that she was so far away.
Suddenly Jo's hand lashed out as she punched hard into his chest. As was usual his soft sandy skin accepted the blow, then locked about the wrist, trapping Jo's hand inside his chest. The rock-like flesh biting deeply into her pale skin. He turned back towards her, a wicked leer on his face.
Stupid bird.
Stupid fomor.
Jo lifted her other arm and opened her hand. Dangling from one of her bony fingers was a metal ring with a piece of wire attached to it. Leona looked at it curiously, wondering what a metal ring with a small stiff wire was going to do to stop the formor.
BOOM!!!
Leona jerked back, closing her eyes as a blast of sand sprayed painfully across her. She turned back, shaking her head to cast aside the sand that was clinging in her fur. The fomor was goneblasted apart by the live grenade Jo had punched into his chest. Leona walked up to the small dark shape that lay pressed against a wall nearby. Coated in a thin sprinkling of sand Jo gripped her right arm tightly just below the wrist. Above that was only a bloody stump, blood leaking out and dribbling thickly across the floor.
Next time, hissed Jo between gritted teeth, I'm going to just leave the fighting to the Garou.
It will heal, grunted Leona. Jo glanced up at her and nodded down the tunnel.
The others will need you, go on. I'll catch up after this heals. Leona nodded, backing off and turning to rush down the tunnels. Before she did she glanced back over her shoulder at Jo.
Sorry I thought you traitor.
Then Leona turned and charged down the tunnel.
I've been waiting for this, Conner. It was this moment that I dreamed of all those countless moments in The Pit. Snowflake's eyes glimmered as she spoke, her voice tinged with tangible eagerness.
Snowflake, what happened to you? Conner watched her carefully, feeling the old fears come creeping back to him slowly. Here she was, his love, his packmate, his victim. He had slain her in a moment of madness, and she had come back for revenge. Did he have the right to deny her that?
The Pit isn't as terrible as you might think, love. It's far, far worse. Do you think that any consumed within it are granted the simple peace of death? Laughter bubbled out of her throat, her lips curling into a wide smile. She brushed her wild white hair away from her face, suddenly her eyes going dead serious, her face calm. You sent me to the worst hell that could ever be conceived of. Now it's payback time.
She grabbed at the tattered throat of her blue summer dress and tore it open. Shredding the material away from her perfect body. Her skin was so pale as to appear almost glowing green in the light of The Pit. Supple and smooth muscles formed elegant and deadly curves across her naked body. Her hands dropped to her sides, hanging open and relaxed as she stared at him. Conner noticed the curving scars that marred her otherwise flawless skin. Scars across her belly and ribs that his own blades had made. He felt the will to fight leave him, she smiled, sensing his weakness.
Come to me now, Conner. Surely you must have felt it when you agreed to return. Surely you must have known that The Pit calls out to its own. You were always meant to be here, Conner. This is your destiny. She walked closer, one of her hands slowly shifting into a clawed crinos hand. She lifted it slowly as she approached, watching him, eyeing his neck. It is fate, you cannot fight it. We were meant to triumph, The Master and I.
Her voice was so innocent and so sure. Conner knew he didn't have it in him to oppose her. She was right about everything. Perhaps this was his fate. Perhaps he had acted dead all these years because he secretly knew he was supposed to have died here. Died here with her. Butsomehow it didn't seem right; didn't seem as though it should end like this, with the Wyrm and Tyranthraxus triumphant. He recalled another speech he had heard, that of a young woman, ignorant of how near she and this entire city were to damnation.
Evil triumphs when good men do nothing.'
Conner's eyes lifted. He looked into Snowflake's eyes.
echoed Snowflake curiously. No, what?
No, I will not do nothing. He lifted his arms. He grabbed at the straps of the silver claws on his wrists and pulled them off. The clattered to the stone walkway with a metallic ringing. No, Snowflake. This isn't my fate. I command my own destiny. He reached up and grabbed at the strip of white fur holding back his hair and pulled it loose. His wild rust red hair tumbled about his face, his cold as ice eyes staring out from amongst it. His jaw ticked upwards slightly. Too long have I blamed myself for actions that cannot be changed. The Snowflake I knew would not have allowed this ritual to occur.
The Snowflake you knew, hissed Snowflake, is dead.
Conner tied the strip of white fur to his wrist as he glared at her, the blood spattering his hands turning the white fur crimson and dark. Snowflake laughed. He raised his hands. She lifted her own. They looked deep into each other's eyes. Each shifted slightly, testing the other without even launching one attack. Then, at a silent signal both of them accepted, they started to dance.
Conner's first attack was a series of quick blows for her
face. But Snowflake suddenly seemed to melt away, shifting down
into lupus as she sprang up to bite at his outstretched leg.
Conner reacted quickly by transforming into crinos, making it
more difficult for her to get a solid bite with her smaller jaws.
He then lunged for her again, his claws streaking out for her
throat.
Snowflake suddenly sprang backward. White fur sprouting across
her body as she shifted to crinos as well, using her longer reach
to slash at him even as she retreated. But Conner quickly blocked
the blow, twisting her arm as he attempted to lock it into place
with the Binding Wind maneuver.
But she was too fast, jerking her arm back and dropping to the ground as she swept out at his legs with the Little Cyclone sweep. Conner sprang upwards, narrowly avoiding her leg. She quickly sprang after him, and somehow transformed the Little Cyclone's power into a Tornado Kick as she rose into the air after him. Conner felt her leg connect with his chest and he was thrown back to the ground.
He quickly flipped back to his feet, landing at the ready even as she rushed in for him. Their motions became a blur of move and counter move. Time seemed to blur as Conner forgot where he ended and Snowflake began. Each of them had trained with each other for a lifetime, there were no tricks the one knew that the other hadn't learned to avoid. They flowed together, moving as one being, their bodies shifting and twisting as they battled for an advantage.
And still they mixed together, like two droplets of water. Two droplets pushing and brushing against each other, and only one would remain when it was over.
Dominic sprang down from one walkway to a lower one. He landed roughly, pushing himself back to his feet as he gripped his klaive tightly. His dark eyes scanned over the stone pathways. It appeared as though the Spirals had fled, leaving the temple undefended except byby the Dancer who seemed to appear as Snowflake. But the ronin, the urrah, was locked in battle with her. Some banes still swirled about The Maw, but they were being held at bay by Syntax's own spirit magic. Thus the way to The Maw was left clear. Dominic snarled as he sprang forward, dashing along the walkway as he charged for The Maw. Bonespur glittered in his hand as he roared in challenge.
Fer-guath watched in tired worry, too exhausted and injured to do anything. The Mage continued his mad chants over the Black Crystal, too engrossed in his magic to notice. But the last figure spun towards the charging philodox. Dominic snarled at the corpse that had once belonged to his packmate Quentin. Its dead eye sockets stared at him as its mouth twisted into a grin.
My, my. The dread Dominic has come to playbut too late! Quentin waved his arm in an arc. Suddenly a wall of green flames roared into place before The Maw. Dominic slid to a halt and backpedaled from the intense heat of the unnatural wall of fire. From beyond it he heard the mad laughter of Quentin. It is far too late, Dominic! My full power shall return to me in but moments!
Not if I can stop it! Dominic looked up in shock as he saw two shapes come rushing out of the rubble of the shattered temple. Charlie sprang over the altar and landed in front on the chanting sorcerer. The young pup's face twisted into a snarl of outrage. There shall be no rebirth of Tyranthraxus. Not tonight, not ever!
With a wild roar Charlie's arm swept forward. The Mage squealed in horror as his chest was rent apart. Blood sprayed from his mouth, chest, and back as Charlie drove his arm clean through the black robed sorcerer's body. His dead hands dropped to his sides, his staff and the Black Crystal clattering to the ground.
Statement: As Syntax has instructed me I shall now endeavor to bring an immediate end to the possibility of the ritual by destroying the focus point of the gathering energies. The pulsing form of Blue Storm descended over the staff. Waves of blue energy streamed out of the Net Spider as it altered the very nature of the staff until it became just another ridge upon the stone floor. Observation: Through usage of pattern alteration I have clearly removed the staff as a passable item in this paradigm. Conclusion: Eighty percent probability that Syntax shall be pleased.
Dominic spared a glance over his shoulder back at Syntax. She was slumped over onto her knees, exhausted by her efforts. Yet a small smirk of satisfaction spread across her face. Dominic grinned as well, he had been wrong to think that she hadn't been trying to help. She had fought off Fer-guath's magic's and arranged for a sneak attack from the rear at the same time. It was a maneuver worthy of a Shadow Lord.
The bellow nearly deafened Dominic with its force. Red and green flames crackled around Quentin as he watched the dead body of The Mage slump to the ground. No, I will not allow this to happen! It shall not happen!
Charlie, get out of there! Dominic snapped out the order as he saw the angered creature turning towards the pup and the Weaver spirit. Blue Storm promptly shot upward, whizzing overhead and hiding amongst the stalactites.
There will be no escape!!! Quentin raised his arms and the wall of fire arced along the outer edges of the temple, encircling it totally and trapping Charlie within.
Charlie! I gave you an order!
I'd be happy to follow it if I could, snapped Charlie as he dove for cover. The place where he had been standing suddenly being engulfed in crackling flames.
Charge this way! Charlie looked up, his eyes meeting disbelievingly with Dominic's through the wall of green flames. Quentin turned towards Charlie, hissing in glee as he raised one flaming hand. Charlie shouted wildly as he turned and charged directly towards Dominic. Knowing there was no time to waste, Dominic dropped Bonespur and clapped his hands together, even as Charlie reached the flames. Dominic summoned the power taught to him by the Stormcrows, the deafening Clap of Thunder.
The shockwave of sound beat against the flames, causing them to waver and half gust out from the force of the air bursting against them. Charlie whooped in victory as he sailed through the tiny and brief opening and crashed to the ground next to Dominic, his fur smoking and singed.
Holy crap, gasped Charlie as he pulled himself to his feet, now that was intense!
Don't pat yourself on the back too much, snarled Dominic as he grabbed his klaive and stared warily at the flame wreathed temple. You may have struck a vital blow, but we still have a few problems to deal with. You are planning to help, right?
Oh, right, Charlie dropped in beside Dominic, looking over the flaming wall, then glancing back to where Conner still battled Snowflake, and further back at where Syntax slumped weakly on her hands and knees. Um, who do I help?
Go get the urrah, growled Dominic as he eyed the shifting shapes beyond the screen of fire. We'll probably need all the help we can get to deal with this
What sort of cowards are you weak, sniveling worms? Endelon heard the ragged and rough voice as he slipped through the lower tunnels. He had shattered a few bones upon hitting a walkway below the one he and the ronin had battled upon, and was now circling back around to the upper paths, ready to rejoin the fray. But now he turned and quickly followed the voice. You shall go back there now and finish them off! I shall watch from here and judge your actions!
Endelon came upon the cavern. It was a small nook that had an opening that overlooked The Pit. Kendar stood there, one of his hands clutching at his throat as blood seeped between his fingers. Before him stood the ragged remains of the tribe. Many of them bearing their own wounds from the battle, others simply looking broken, having lost the will to fight. Endelon saw their shifting and uneasy eyes, he knew Kendar wasn't doing a good job of rallying the troops. He learned why when Gorefist stepped forward. Her good eye gleamed while the dead one shone dully, her voice was an angry snarl.
When the war leader flees, then the packs withdraw. Such is the way of things. There is no shame. Kendar glared at her, a low growl rumbling in his chest as he gripped the hilt of his sword tighter. Gorefist sneered back, unwilling to back down. The rest of the packs watched the two, unsure who to support.
Endelon's quiet hiss cut through the clamoring grandstanding. He strode forward, his klaives sparking and flashing in his hands, his eyes cold and deadly. He looked at their stupid faces and puffed out chests. By the All Mighty Wyrm did he despise them, they were simply so much wasted material. They'd be doing better if they had stayed in some dark crevices rutting and giving birth till the end of time. Flee or return to battle, he spat, but do not waste time with this foolish squabble.
They parted before him like leaves before a storm. He stopped next to Kendar as he looked through the crevice, his cold blue eyes scanning down upon the walkways of The Pit. He saw the ritual chamber wreathed in flames. He saw that Dominic still stood. Then he saw Snowflake, battling alone against the ronin. His eyes narrowed as he turned towards Kendar.
You left her to fight alone, Endelon's voice was a soft whisper, his eyes calm and detached.
grunted Kendar with a shrug. Dominic proved more challenging then I had anticipated. He spared a glance over his shoulder to make sure the others were too far back to hear him. My friend, he confided, I think we may have lost the day. Let us withdraw.
Not while she fights still. Endelon turned to rush to her aid, but was stopped by Kendar's mocking, gurgling laugh.
What's this? She's just another she-bitch to fuck or fight! Don't tell me you actually chose to develop feelings for her! Kendar shook with laughter as he glanced back out of the cave opening. Besides, the bitch was promised to me. Let her stay there and fight till she dies for all I care. We'll get you something better and younger. She's as good as dead down there anyway.
We all die, hissed Endelon softly, even friends.
Eh? What are you talkin-urk! Kendar jerked in surprise as the blade cut cleanly into his back and deep into his heart. He looked over at Endelon's face, the cold emotionless eyes watching him with calm detachment. Endelon twisted the blade, blood erupted from the wound.
Goodbye, my friend.
Lord Kendar! The other Spirals watched as Kendar, the Head Collector, collapsed like a mighty mountain. Falling not all at once, but in slow, lumbering, majestic steps. Collapsing first to his knees, then his side, and then slumping to the ground and rolling down the incline of the tunnel towards them. They watched as the mighty hero who had always seemed so invincible to them, so beyond their reach, come to a dead stop amongst them; broken and ruined. Red eyes flared with rage as they looked up at the slim and silent figure with cold dead eyes that watched them, a flaming green klaive gripped in his bloody hand.
Fight or flee, he told them softly, it matters not.
So saying he turned and sprang through the opening, his leap sending him sailing through the air to land lightly on one of the upper walkways. He pulled out his second klaive and grinned coldly as it burst into flames. This battle was not over yet. He rushed to Snowflake's aid.
gasped Fer-guath as he struggled up alongside The Master. The ritual, he glanced down at the dead form of The Mage, it cannot be completed. He shifted weakly, his blood still leaking from the painful wound in his back, his energies spent from his battle with Syntax. Master, we should leave this place now, regroup, try again later.
The dead sightless eyes turned towards him, The Master's face a wicked grin. No, my dear friend. There is no need to worry. There is another way to complete the ritual. A two step process. First I join with her, and then use the energies within the Black Crystal to finalize the transfer.
Fer-guath blinked in surprise. Why didn't we try this sooner?
whispered a voice behind him, of the cost of the needed sacrifice.
What sacrifice?
A powerful theurge of the Wyrm. Clawed hands closed about Fer-guath's throat. He was too weak to fight them off. He closed his eye and gave himself to the glory of the Wyrm.
His breath came in gasping gulps. So did hers. The two sounds mixed together as they stared at each other. They stood less then twenty paces apart, each coated with a thin sheen of sweat. Each dripping small rivulets of blood from half a dozen minor wounds. They had stopped the battle only due to each of them being nearly exhausted to death by the conflict. She lifted one of her hands, her small tongue arching out to lap lightly at the bloodstains upon her fingertips.
You cannot be Snowflake, said Conner between deep breaths. I refuse to accept it.
What do I care what you accept? She grinned. I know who I am, and who I've always been.
snarled Conner, is not what Snowflake always was.
Laughter bubbled up from between her bright blood red lips. Isn't it though? Didn't you ever wonder? Back then, during that battle eight years ago. Didn't you ever wonder why I attacked you?
Conner scowled, she was confused in the heat of battle. Perhaps The Mage used his magic to confuse her. Perhaps the Rage
Confused? Rage? Hahahaha! Her face suddenly twisted up into an ugly leer, her eyes staring at him darkly from under the damp strands of her wild white hair. I had planned to betray you and the pack all along! I had already made a pact with Tyranthraxus, even then.
You lie!
Do I?
This ends now!
With a roar Conner charged forward, his long red hair spraying out around his face as he growled. Snowflake laughed eagerly as she rushed forward as well. Her laughter mixing with his snarl of outrage. Conner couldn't help but remember how much he had thought of them as drops of water when they had been together. He remembered countless nights staring at his ceiling as he had thought of how he had let her die eight years ago.
A drop of water slowly condensed along the rusting metal grill. Small droplets of moisture formed, each bulging downward with the weight of the water that shaped them. They ran slowly together, traveling along pathways that had been formed from those who had gone before them. Softly and slowly they came together. Each dew drop quivering in fear and anticipation of what was to come next.
They touched.
Conner sprang into the air, Snowflake did the same. They struck at each other in a blinding blur of moves. Claws flashed! A throat was torn! Then they each landed lightly on their feet. Snowflake grinned wickedly, her eyes aflame. Conner's eyes were cold and calm, his face grim. Each turned around slowly, their eyes meeting. Snowflake suddenly gasped as a spray of blood erupted from her throat. She reached up, her pale white hand entering the mist of blood and becoming soaking red. She looked up at Conner in shock. He watched her quietly.
her voice was a soft whisper as she stumbled, her eyes wide and fearful. Blood leaked down her side, turning her pale skin to crimson. How could
Conner looked into her eyes and saw not the madness of a monster, but the genuine pain of betrayal. He saw Snowflake in those eyes, his Snowflake. Then she took a faltering step backwards, her foot landing unevenly on the edge of the walkway. She tottered, her eyes widening in fear as she stumbled off the edge.
He urged his tired and aching muscles to move, move faster then he had ever thought possible. All he could see was her fall eight years ago. All he could think of was how he had lay there and watched her plummet into that green emptiness. His arm stretched out, his muscles burned with effort as he pushed them to the limit. He sprawled onto the walkway, his hand grasping out into the air desperately.
He grabbed her wrist.
Snowflake gasped in surprise as she looked up at him, her eyes wide and fearful as she looked down again at The Pit below her. Conner's teeth gritted together as he held her steady. Blood still leaked out of her neck, and her face was pale, too pale. She looked up at him again, weakly.
It's okay, I've got you, Snowflake. I've got you. His free hand scrabbled on the walkway for a solid grip, he tried to dig his toes into stone for support. Can you pull yourself up?
Oh, Conner, my love, she whispered now, her gaze seeming unfocused. Conner knew she must be delusional from the loss of blood. She looked up at him. I always loved you, I'm sorry. Did you know how you stole my heart?
he gasped, pull yourself up, it'll be okay. Her eyes suddenly lifted, dark and dangerous.
Here, let me steal yours!!!
Her free hand lashed up, claws sharp and deadly. It plunged deeply into Conner's chest, ripping apart muscles and wedging into his ribcage. He howled in pain as he felt her claws twitch, her hand digging deeper, reaching for his heart. He looked down at her and snarled, realizing this had been one last trick of the Corrupter. She gripped at his ribcage as she tried to pull herself up, her mouth sprouting fangs as she lunged to bite at his throat.
The drops of water met. Each separate form seeped together, combining into one single whole, one single being. Completed, perfect, beautiful. The drop glistened and shone in the moonlight that streamed in the window. The drop trembled, perfection was not meant to last. It felt the push of inevitability. It fell, fell down and away soundlessly.
Come, lover, she snarled as she pulled herself closer, there's still time for one last embrace! Join me!!!
Conner reacted without thinking. His hand holding her shifted into claws of his own. The talons ripping and shredding through the flesh of her wrist as he released her. He then slashed upwards, ripping open her throat and gouging apart the muscles of her other arm.
Snowflake gasped in surprise as she fell back, blood spraying from her throat and arms. She swirled through the air, like a snowflake. Tumbling down towards The Pit, just a small frozen piece of water. A drop, it fell, fell down and away soundlessly.
All but the little bit that still clung on. Refusing to be dragged down into darkness with the rest.
A pair of hands clamped down on his shoulders and pulled him back onto the walkway. The worried face of Charlie shoved itself close to his. Conner, are you okay? Say something!
Gaia preserve, he muttered.
Holy Mother, Charlie winced as he looked down at the massive twisted wound in Conner's chest. Blood pumped from the wound, staining the clump of hair on his chest and dribbling down his belly. Charlie winced. Are you going to be okay?
Ronin! You die now!
They both looked up at the dark figure that rushed for them, tattered black bandages trailing behind it as flaming klaives hissed in deadly arcs. Endelon rushed forward, his cold blue eyes hard and deadly.
Charlie growled as he rose, facing the killer of his packmate. He remembered how Endelon had so casually slain Sees-Like-An-Eagle back at the lake. He remembered the harsh smile of victory as flaming blades had ripped the life from the young Garou. Charlie roared as he charged forward, seeking blood. His mouth opened wide, fangs flashing as he lunged forward in a mad burst of speed.
Even as Charlie's muzzle descended for Endelon's throat, Endelon's klaive snapped up. There was a searing moment of pain as Endelon drove it through Charlie's cheek, Charlie's mouth clamped down instinctively in pain. His teeth grinding on the flaming metal, the green fires burning the insides of his mouth as his charge was brought to a sudden, pained, halt. With a sneer Endelon swept his second blade up and across, ripping it through Charlie's gut. With a pained cry Charlie fell back.
I didn't come to toy with pups, I came to slay a man, snarled Endelon as he loomed over Charlie.
Then come slay him, growled Conner as he walked slowly forward. Once more he gripped his blades, and was strapping them to his wrists. Blood still leaked thickly down his bare chest, staining his tattered pants a deep crimson. His eyes met Endelon's as he grinned. If you can.
We all die, hissed Endelon as he raised his blades and charged. His feet moved quickly as he almost seemed to glide down the path towards the ronin. And now this ends!
IT BEGINS!
The shockwave rolled out and away from The Maw with deafening force. Conner and Endelon sprawled to the ground. There came a roar as four of the caves that ringed the upper levels of The Pit suddenly sprayed forth a thick green liquid. It poured down in huge funneling sprays, plunging down into the pool of green ooze far below. Conner looked up in horror as he saw the flames surrounding The Maw blast out in a cloud of fire. Dominic staggered under the blast, the flames licking around him. Black energies swirled around the cavern, the entire chamber seemed to shake. Stalactites broke loose and plunged down into The Pit. Huge waves of the vile green liquid sloshed and splashed about the lower levels.
Conner rose unsteadily to his feet, next to him Endelon also sprang to his. Even as they glared at each other they both heard a huge crack above them. Their heads snapped up and eyes widened in shock as they saw a massive chunk of the ceiling plunging towards them They spared another glance at each other, and then both turned and ran, both dashing side by side down the stone walkway. Behind them the rock struck with massive force, shattering the stone bridge. The ground gave way beneath them as a huge section of the walkway splintered into rubble. Both Conner and Endelon sprang forward, their hands reaching out for the section of the walkway that was still intact.
Conner missed.
As he started to fall a brown furred arm shot forward and clasped tightly onto him. Charlie grunted in pain as he stopped Conner's fall.
Nearby Endelon's black claws closed on nothing but empty airand there was no friend of his to reach out and help him. He plunged silently downward, disappearing amongst the rubble as more rocks collapsed and tumbled atop him. Burying him beneath the rocky debris alone and forgotten.
Charlie growled as he pulled Conner up onto the walkway. The two stood together, their fur being tossed in the strange hellish winds that now swirled around the chamber. Conner saw Quentin, flames crackling around his eye sockets as he laughed. Suddenly his form went stiff, one last chuckle escaped his lips, and then he collapsed to the ground. The body finally and truly dead.
The scream was sudden and unimaginable in its agony. Conner and Charlie turned to look. Syntax lay upon the ground, writhing in pain. Her normally calm features twisted into a mask of agony. Her voice going raw from the one solid unending scream that was being ripped from her.
And then it stopped.
She sat up slowly. One delicate hand reaching up and brushing tangled hair away from her sweaty face. Her tongue came out and licked lightly across her parched lips. She looked up, and Conner met her gaze. Her eyes were dark. Like the deepest of pits.
He shook his head slowly, knowing what those eyes meant.
hissed Syntax as she rose to her feet, behind her the gushing geysers of green ooze poured out thickly, filling The Pit and returning it to full power for its returned master. Oh yesssss! She ran her hands across her face and down the sides of her body. This is better then I had thought. Do you, any of you, know how good it is to be alive? It's glorious!!!
With a peal of laughter green energies flashed around her. Syntax lifted into the air, her dark eyes blazing and seeming to soak in all light that came near them. She floated forward lightly, still laughing, as she approached The Maw.
This is glorious! The power, you fools can hardly even begin to grasp. She laughed again as she landed in front of The Maw. Her bare feet made only a whisper of sound as she started up the steps. Her face reflected back to her from the gleaming obsidian. It's just so wonderful.
We've got to stop this, gasped Charlie as he dashed forward. Conner ran at his side as they approached The Maw. Syntax seemed oblivious to them, simply walking up the steps and looking about at the shattered temple in glee. How can we help her? Charlie glanced over at Conner. We have to get him out of her.
I'm not sure we can, Conner admitted darkly.
There is one way. They both looked over in surprise at the burnt figure that rose up from the ashes, his klaive gleaming brightly in his hand. Dominic snarled as he turned to look up at Syntax's back. We do it the same way you did before, he raised Bonespur meaningfully. We end this.
Conner reached out and caught Dominic's shoulder. I tried it before and I failed. I was cast out of the tribes by you for committing an injustice, and never even stopped him! It is not the answer.
Dominic's eyes flared angrily as he turned to glare at Conner. But then his shoulders slumped slightly and his eyes went dark. He nodded. Yes, you are right. He twisted his klaive, the rune of duty flickering across his face. But what do we do then?
Statement: I wish to help Syntax. The glowing blue spider sailed down and hovered nearby. They all glanced at it in surprise. Observation: While hiding I witnessed the enacting of this modified ritual. The being known as Tyranthraxus made it clear it was a partial joining and it would need the Black Crystal to finish the joining. Conclusion: We should-
Get that damn Crystal, bellowed Dominic as he turned and sprang up the steps three at a time.
-retrieve the Crystal first, finished Blue Storm as it watched the three Garou rush up the steps towards Syntax. She glanced over her shoulder in amusement as she watched them come, thin lips parting in a wicked smile as her dark eyes seemed to swallow the light.
My, my, eager to die, are we?
You help me distract her, growled Dominic to Conner. Charlie, get the Crystal and get out of there. Conner and Charlie nodded in agreement to the plan as they sprinted up the steps. Syntax laughed as she watched them come. Green waves of fire roiled around her fingers and her hair danced on an invisible breeze. Dominic and Conner sprang forward as Charlie rushed to the side.
sneered Syntax, playing at being heroes. As Dominic descended towards her she idly waved her arm in his direction. A wave of green fire blazed out in an arc that slammed into his chest. The Shadow Lord snarled in pain as he was hurled backwards like a child's plaything. Conner came in fast and low, lunging forward to grab onto her. Her eyes flashed as she spun towards him, her hand clamping down on his throat with unbelievable speed and power. Tell me, Conner, she sneered as his charge came to a choking halt. Didn't it break your heart to cast Snowflake down into The Pit for a second time? Shame, shame. You should go join her.
With an effortless shrug of her arm she sent him sailing backwards through the air, tumbling end over end as he sailed towards the edge of The Maw. Conner twisted about, looking for some way to escape his fate, but spotted nothing. Then a large black shape charged in from the side. Dominic's claws bit sharply into Conner's back as he grabbed onto him. The two tumbled and rolled roughly across the ground, skidding to a stop mere inches away from the edge.
gasped Conner as he shakily rose to his feet. Dominic simply growled slightly, his dark eyes still fixed on Syntax. She had spun around and spotted Charlie reaching down for the Black Crystal. With a snarl she shot forward in a blur of flame and shadow. Her hand clamped down on his wrist even as he grabbed the Crystal. Green fire hissed about her fingers, smoke issued out from under her hand, Charlie screamed.
Hands off, dog! This is mine! With a contemptuous twist of her arm she flung him back. Charlie slammed up hard against a crumbling pillar, splintering it apart with the impact of his collision. She snarled in glee as she reached down and grabbed the Crystal. Look now, Garou. Look now and witness the moment when you allowed this city to fall to me! She raised the Black Crystal overhead, gripping it excitedly in one hand.
Syntax, don't do it! Dominic suddenly stumbled forward, smoke still rising from his horrible burns. Feeling little better, Conner stood up and limped after him. Syntax, I know you're still in there. Tyranthraxus doesn't have full control just yet. Fight him, damnit, fight him and give us a chance! All we need to do is get that Crystal away from you.
Oh! Oh, that's good! Syntax tilted her head back and laughed. What's next? Are you going to tell me that you know that deep inside Syntax is hearing this and has the strength to do something? Wild laughter erupted from her, she shook her head and trembled with laughter. Or maybe as long as I believe in Gaia there's still a chance!
Actually, the plan was simpler then that, grunted Dominic with a small smirk. Suddenly Conner saw what Dominic must have. The small tawny wolf sprang forth from the shadows at the rear of The Maw. Leaping lightly through the air its jaws closing down on the Black Crystal and snatching it from Syntax's surprised grasp. Her dark eyes snapped open, her face contorting in rage.
You wretch!!! Green flames spewed out around her as she turned towards Leona. Now you die!!!
Conner, with me! Dominic sprang forward in a wild rush. Conner almost didn't respond, so shocked was he to hear his true name pass Dominic's lips. But then he too leapt forward. Even as Syntax turned towards Leona, Dominic was beside her, his large arms wrapping tightly about her chest as he lifted her in a bear hug. Conner was right beside him, grabbing onto her hands and twisting them up and away.
Leona, Charlie! His voice sounded ragged and desperate, even to himself. He felt his muscles strain as he tried to hold her arms in place, but she was stronger then he could have imagined. The fires racing about her fingers burned his hands, but he wouldn't let go. Deal with the Crystal!
Charlie pulled himself up weakly as Leona rushed up to him, the Crystal in her mouth and a worried and confused look in her eyes. Charlie looked down at her and blinked, then back up at the three struggling figures.
How do I deal with it!?!
Damnit, boy, be a man, snarled Dominic as Syntax's thrashings increased. He and Conner tumbled to the ground. Her fingers clawed at them, fire burning at flesh, her mad howls shaking them to the bone. Dominic held her tightly even as Conner was being kicked off, he snarled in her ear. I'm not letting you go Syntax, I gave you my word I'd get you out of here. I'm not letting you go.
I'll kill you all, she hissed. Her arm jerked free, fire lanced around it as she grabbed at Conner's face and tried to rise.
I don't know what to do!
Just do something with the damned thing, Conner shouted.
Charlie looked down and grabbed the Crystal from Leona's mouth. He looked at it for a half moment. Suddenly it seemed as though he held the entire universe in his hand. Half whispered words seemed to promise him power and glory. Promised him a spot of glory that would surpass even Dominic and his uncle Marn. Promised him the entire world, if he'd just accept Tyranthraxus within himself. Accept the Wyrm. It would be so easy, the Crystal promised him; everything would be okay.
Charlie felt his hand tremble slightly as he considered the offer. Then it occurred to him that he didn't really want fame, or power, or glory. He wanted to go home. It wasn't perhaps the bravest thought ever, nor the greatest. But it was honest. He wasn't a great and brave man, he just wanted this madness over so he could be safe at home with his friends. He remembered his own words; A hero, a true hero, is someone who does what he doesn't want to do if it means doing the right thing. He didn't want to be here, but it was the right thing to do. And the right thing didn't involve joining the Wyrm.
Right, do something, he snarled, I'll do something with it! He turned, looking out across the vast green morass and crumbled madness of The Pit. The geysers of superheated chemicals from the vats at Allied Chemicals had transformed the glowing green waters into a boiling quagmire. He glared at the green depths and raised the Crystal. Go back where you came from, and leave us the hell alone!
He threw the Crystal.
Syntax arose with a jerk, finally tossing aside the burnt and battered forms of Dominic and Conner. You fool! She turned towards Charlie, her face a mask of twisted rage. She raised her hands, green fire crackled around them.
Then the Crystal hit the liquid of The Pit. Syntax jerked as though in pain. Green fire and waves of black shadow seemed to swirl about her in a sudden flurry. Then they were gone, and she collapsed weakly to the ground. Suddenly all was silence save for the gasping breaths of the four exhausted Garou. Dominic stood up slowly, blinking in surprise. Nearby Conner sat up weakly, holding his heavily burnt arm tenderly. Charlie looked back at them and grinned.
It's over.
The voice was a ragged whisper. Syntax's hands reached out and gripped onto a nearby pile of rubble. Hand over hand she pulled herself up. Her gray eyes glanced at them, looking haunted and fearful. It's just become worse.
breathed Charlie nervously.
You hurled the seat of Tyranthraxus' power into the heart of a caern which had been amplified with so much spiritual energy that it is overflowing with power. A caern of corruption and mutation, which alters all who come in contact with it into horrid beasts even when they are mere humans and it is low on energy. She shook her head slowly. You just created a true nightmare.
The others all glanced at Charlie.
I didn't know!
On the positive side, hissed Syntax, its unstable nature denotes an unmistakable likelihood that whatever it creates from all this power will end up destroying itself within a short time. The negative side is that it will have more then ample time to obliterate us and, in all probability, part of Detroit as well.
Is it just me, or did I pick a bad time to show up? Charlie glanced up as Jo came jogging up towards them. He dimly noted that the Corax was the only one of them not seeming to be coated in blood and sporting half a dozen wounds. She paused and shrugged. You all seem depressed. What's going on?
A low rumble filled the chamber. All of them glanced over the edge. The green slime of The Pit was slowly roiling and bubbling. At the center of the pool they could see something beginning to form. Charlie felt his heart go still as he caught brief glimpses of the thing. It was unspeakable, and even from high above it he could feel the fearsome emanations of terror it seemed to exude. Its eyes flared with the wild glow of madness.
We need a plan, snarled Dominic. Conner, any ideas?
No, how about you?
Dominic glanced over at Syntax, she shook her head. Charlie shifted uneasily as he watched the thing below them seem to grow larger, it was huge! Leona whined and tucked her tail between her legs.
I've got an idea, offered Jo suddenly. They all glanced down at her in surprise. She grinned and shrugged again. Well, as long as we have all this excess power built up in the caern, why not use it to our own ends? We could open a path up into some realm of the Umbra, like the Wyrm's lavatory or something, and then just dump Mr. Ugly-Uber-Monster down there through it. That way when he self destructs it's on some nasty place that we don't care about.
grunted Dominic, that is quite possibly the best idea I think you have ever had.
I think.
Syntax, can it be done? Dominic crouched in front of her and shook her shoulder. Her exhausted and sunken eyes glanced at him and then out at The Pit. Can it be done? Can you do it?
think so. Dominic grabbed her under her arm and helped her to her feet. She nodded weakly as she looked down at The Pit. Yes, the possession left me with some knowledge There isn't much timeI will need all of your help. Join hands with me. Jo rushed up and grabbed her left hand, Dominic gripped the right. Conner and Leona linked hands with Jo, and Charlie took hold of Dominic's right hand. Blue Storm hovered overhead. I am going to have towell, I will have tohalf ass this. Charlie quirked an eyebrow at Syntax's choice of words, not sure they boded well. I am going to summon all the spirits in the chamber into our world, and then banish them. The spiritual back draft should grab Tyranthraxus as well.
echoed Charlie nervously.
We begin, stated Syntax softly. Give your energies to me, all the spiritual power you have within you. Charlie suddenly felt as though something was draining away from him, he knew it was the inner spiritual energy which the Garou tapped for their magic and rituals. He willingly gave all he could.
A silvery glow surrounded the small group; the gleaming misty light drawing in towards Syntax. Suddenly the room started to darken. Strange misshapen figures seemed to suddenly form. Dark winged creatures flapping about them. Clawed beasts pulling themselves to their feet. Charlie gasped at the sheer number of the things. The unholy host hissed and snarled in glee. Many of them turned and rushed down the various tunnels, others turned hungry eyes towards the Garou. Amidst it all there was a deep rumble from The Pit as a great beast started to rise, preparing to rain destruction down on all that lay in its path. Tyranthraxus had finally risen!
Syntax's eyes suddenly flared open, glowing with a bright silver light, gleaming like the moon. Charlie felt his chest twist in pain as his spiritual energy, his gnosis, was torn from him at a prodigious rate. Syntax howled loudly, as waves of silver light washed out from her and poured over the dark host before them. The dark spirits wailed in anger as the light seemed to tear at them, shredding apart their bodies and casting them about the chamber.
The wisps of shadow seemed to collect into a swirling maelstrom. The whirlwind pulled at everything. Charlie felt his blood soaked brown fur flutter in the stiff breeze. Beside him Dominic stood calm and resolute, his dark eyes locked on the horror of Tyranthraxus. The ronin's long red hair swirled about his calm, meditative face. Leona snarled angrily. Jo quietly mouthed oh shit' over and over again.
Then the maelstrom took full effect. The very ooze of The Pit seethed about as it started to be pulled along. The current was strengthened by the wild black tatters of the wailing dark spirits. The green slime frothed and twisted about, slowly forming into a great whirlpool, the center of it a deep and bottomless darkness. The angry spirits were pulled and sucked down it in mad confusion. Only the great beast, Tyranthraxus stood firm. The massive jaws of the creature opened as it bellowed an angry challenge. Its great tentacles wrapping about outcrops of stone as it held itself in place.
I have no more! Leona wailed in pain as she collapsed, her grip leaving Conner's. Charlie too felt the burning pain as the ritual seemed to draw the last of his spiritual reserves from him. A moment later a blinding agony filled his chest, as the ritual tried to pull energy from where there was none.
Charlie jerked his hand away from Dominic, weakly stumbling to the ground. He looked up at the others, their faces were grim and drawn, each now having to offer more energy for the loss of the others. Conner's eyes suddenly snapped open, sweat breaking out across his face. Next to him Jo looked up worriedly.
Stand firm, Conner, snarled Dominic, this is almost over. Below them Tyranthraxus bellowed again, as though to give lie to their hope. It reached forth, claws digging into stone as it tried to drag itself forward, away from the sucking portal. snarled Dominic angrily.
That is all, gasped Conner as he fell back from Jo, leaving only three to keep the portal open. He slumped weakly, drained and exhausted. I'm sorry, I failed again.
Be quiet you fool, hissed Dominic, you never failed. It was your pack that failed you. We judged without looking for the truth. You were right, can't you see that? You were right the whole damn time, and I was wrong! Now get up and help us end this!
Conner glanced up at Dominic, and Charlie saw his lips quirk slightly upwards in what was perhaps the first genuine smile he had seen on Conner's face. Years seemed to drop away from him, exhaustion faded. He stood up again and gripped Jo's hand tightly.
It is not working, gasped Syntax as she eyed Tyranthraxus. He is too strong to be pulled through. At best we can weaken him enough that he will only have time to slay us before he too is consumed. There could be worse endings.
There could be better ones too, grumbled Jo through gritted teeth. Charlie saw Dominic glance towards Jo and nod slightly, then his gaze returned to Tyranthraxus. The maddened beast howled. Dominic's eyes narrowed, his face grew intense.
I'm not sure how much more I have, wheezed Conner weakly. Blood leaked from his many wounds as he sank to his knees. Then he collapsed to the ground. Leona reached over and tried to help him. Charlie felt the grim grip of inevitability. They were going to all die here.
Josephine, are you strong enough, asked Dominic quietly.
Oh, sure, doing juuuust great.
Dominic released Syntax's hand. She and Jo both snarled in pain and extra effort. But Dominic didn't collapse from weakness. Charlie blinked in shock, had Dominic given up? The Shadow Lord drew out Bonespur. The rune of death gleamed brightly across his features. He held it out towards Charlie.
Take it.
Take it, it is yours now. Wield it with honor Charlie took the klaive numbly from Dominic's hand. The Shadow Lord nodded to him as he turned back towards The Pit.
gasped Jo, what are you doing?
He's too strong to be pulled in, said Dominic quietly. Somebody has to go push.
Charlie felt his heart go still. He gripped the heavy silver blade in his hand tightly. He saw a look of anguish pass over Jo's face. Tears welled up around her large dark eyes. Conner shook his own head and tried to rise.
I should go.
No, Conner, said Dominic gruffly as he easily pushed him back. It was my crime to take from you your name, I cost you eight years of your life. You have earned your name and more back, you won't throw it away so soon. It is my decision, and my will that I go.
Jo's voice was a strangled choking sob. Tears ran heavily down her rounded cheeks. She shook her head desperately from side to side, sniffling.
This is unnecessary, offered Syntax softly as she locked eyes with Dominic. Perhaps if we hold out just a bit longer, with your extra energies we could keep this up for-
Just long enough for him to kill us all. The price is one versus six, you should well understand that. He nodded at her. I am sorry again for your pack, perhaps by saving you I can, at the least, know that I am more then just a mindless killer.
He looked them all n the eye, a small and feral smirk spreading across his face. It was an honor to be able to fight alongside you. Charlie knew these were the strongest words Dominic had to express himself. But then he turned to look at the sobbing shape of Jo.
Jo was shaking. Dominic looked down at her and smiled softly.
Die in a warm bed, my aggravating wonderful little friend.
He spun around. The green lights of the pit washed up over him as he looked down at the great beast below. The wind whipped at his scorched black fur. His claws flexed as he howled.
What is our duty? To serve Gaia's will. What is her will? That we fight and die. What is death?
Dominic sprang over the side.
It is our duty!!!
Charlie leaned forward, his eyes wide with shock. In his hand Bonespur seemed to hum angrily, as though sensing its master had gone to war without it. The runes of death and duty flashed across the surface, gleaming with a silvery light. The black shape of Dominic seemed so tiny as it slammed down atop the massive form of Tyranthraxus. With a wild howl Dominic's claws dug deeply into the flesh of the monster. Slicing apart the base of one of the tentacles that held it in place.
Angrily it let up its grip and lashed up at him with one of its claws. Dominic narrowly avoided the blow, and then sprang atop the hand and tore madly at the wrist, ripping at bone and biting through flesh. He then spun and attacked another tentacle. Tyranthraxus wailed in anger as it flailed at himand its grip was so loosened and itself so distracted that it started to slide towards the portal.
Syntax's voice was harsh. Give it everything you have! Jo sobbed in pain and loss as she watched Dominic battle, but she didn't let up. Charlie locked gazes with Leona, and both of them snarled and reached up, grabbing onto Jo and Syntax and adding what little energy they had left. Waves of silver light sprang from them and lashed down at the creature, pulling at it, dragging it into the maelstrom. Green slime spun about it as it was caught in the pull.
The great beast was dragged down into the darkness, its howls; mad wails of incoherent rage. Dominic slashed and fought at it, even as its tentacles wrapped about him, dragging him with it. Charlie cried out as he saw Dominic rip free. The Shadow Lord spun about, turning and leaping at the last moment, trying to escape now that he had ensured that Tyranthraxus was caught. Dominic dove for freedom.
But clawed tendrils closed in about him.
Dominic met Charlie's gaze as he was dragged back. But there was no fear or pain in Dominic's dark eyes. He turned and roared in challenge as he again tore at the tendrils. Amidst a wave of green slime the great Corrupter, Tyranthraxus, and Dominic Rends-the-Darkness' were both pulled deep into the black portal. There was a cry as Syntax ended the ritual, and they all collapsed to the ground. With a final shudder the gate closed.
Dominic was gone.
