Something I forgot...
Disclaimer: I do not own Diablo II. Diablo II and all elements and characters from the game belong to Blizzard.
The Journey Home
Chapter 2 - Desert Nights
Warriv's long caravan rumbled out of the Rogue Pass and into the deserts of Aranoch. The mountain roads gave way to the soft and uneven sand of the desert, and the conditions of the terrain considerably slowed the pace down. The dozen wagons kept a steady line en route to the desert jewel, the city of Lut Gholein.
The last wagon in the train was one of the largest, but only held four occupants. Cyrus, the paladin of the Hand of Zakarum, watched the landscape thoughtfully as the shadows grew long with the setting sun. He sat on the wagon's dusty floor, leaning on his war chest. His armor was stashed in the chest, but he held his shield, polishing it absent-mindedly while admiring the setting sun. Across from him sat Dyna, the Amazon that had survived the assault on Andariel alongside him. She was concentrating on fletching her arrows, many of which were ruined before they got fired. Further within the wagon was the north man Dagan. Like the paladin, he was watching the sunset as well. His young ward was at the front of the wagon, chatting happily with the driver.
"You're not from Westmarch, are you, paladin?" Dyna asked, putting the last of her arrows aside. "No Paladin of Westmarch has dark skin. You must be from Kurast."
"Indeed, I am," Cyrus replied, snapping out of his reverie. The mere mention of his homeland sent a wave of homesickness coursing through him. "I was born and raised in Ureh, east of Kurast. So, I consider Kurast as home."
"Why are you so far from your home?" she prodded on.
"Tour of duty," he answered nonchalantly. "I spent five years in the northern steppes. A year ago, I was sent to Duncraig. The Paladins of Westmarch were being girth for war, as rumors of Leoric's armies became more pronounced. My tour was supposed to have ended after war games with the Paladins, but the war occurred, and I was forced to extend."
"How long have you been a Paladin?" she asked.
"Ten years," he said. "I joined the Order of the Hand of Zakarum, the most militant of the orders. I was knighted when I was sixteen, at the top of my class. As soon as I was knighted, I was sent overseas by the Order, in order to supplement a manpower shortage worldwide. Haven't seen home since."
"There have been several tales about your feats during the war told around the camp fire," she said. "You are but a year older than me, and yet you have the experience of a warrior twice your age..."
"It is my fate, I suppose," he replied pensively. "How about you, Amazon? Your leader told me you were green, but no apprentice could have had the composure to hit Andariel in the eye with a single arrow."
"She has high standards. To her, I am inexperienced," she replied. "I was a captain back home, so I am versed in arts of singular combat and small group tactics. But unlike the others that I had come with, I had never faced demons in battle before coming to that Rogue encampment."
"What brought you with them, so far from home?"
"I have my reasons... "
Realizing that his new friend would not divulge any further, the paladin decided to make conversation with the barbarian, who until then had been content listening to the two.
"So, Dagan, what brings you here?" he asked.
"I have to keep watch over Selene," the north man replied. "She is only seventeen, and impulsive. I had to keep her out of trouble, but she has more energy that a ravenous bear cub. I shouldn't have been surprised she decided to tag along to Lut Gholein."
"North men abhor magic, and rarely travel with mages," Cyrus observed. "Why do you follow her around like a nursemaid?"
"It is a blood-oath," Dagan said. "Once, a Zann Esu sorceress saved the son of the Mountain Lion's chief. Ever since that day, the Mountain Lion tribe has pledged to provide Zann Esu sorceresses with protectors for as long as they request it, until such time that one of the tribe dies in the defense of a sorceress, and the oath our ancient chief made is fulfilled."
"Oh, so you were assigned to young Selene?"
"Yes. She was just thirteen then. Her mentor wanted someone to protect her, for the steppes are harsh to foreigners. I was just twenty- three summers old then, newly a man and a warrior. I was the nearest to her age as the chief could provide. I've been stuck with her since."
The caravan wagon suddenly came to a stop. All three occupants bolted upright. Cyrus reached for his sword, while Dyna strapped on her quiver. Dagan already had his axe on hand. They braced for an assault. But instead of a screaming, blood-thirsty demon, Selene's smiling face appeared at the wagon's entrance.
"They said the we're stopping for the night," the young sorceress said. "You should all come to the fire."
~~~
Cyrus quietly snuck away from the crowd gathered around the fire. He wandered around the makeshift camp, occasionally peering out into the sand dunes. He had a bad feeling in his gut, but he could not tell why. He walked over to where the horses were tethered. He approached one of the restless mares and stroked the animal's nose.
"You like horses, Cyrus?"
Cyrus turned and saw Dyna standing right behind him. He smiled. "Yes, I do."
"Do you ride often?"
"I haven't ridden a horse in six years," he replied wistfully. "The north men didn't like riding, and the Paladins of Westmarch were mainly infantry. I haven't mounted a steed since my days in Lycander. It's the only Amazon Island with enough flat plains to ride around in."
"You were in Lycander?" she asked, a hint of surprise in her voice. "When?"
"Lycander was the first stop of my tour," he replied. "I spent four years there. Beautiful place."
Before the Amazon could ask another question, Deckard Cain interrupted them. The wizened old Horadrim sage approached them, carrying a small pouch.
"Good evening," he said jovially. Cyrus returned his greeting politely.
"What can I do you for tonight, Sir Cain?" he said.
"I promised I would return this when we met again," said Cain. "And, between the fall of Tristram and Hell's minions...here I am."
"Glad you made it back," Cyrus said, taking the pouch. "You were brave. Your efforts in Tristram bought us enough time to push back Leoric's offensive."
Cyrus opened the pouch and took out a golden ring. He placed the ring on his right ring finger.
"I've heard of your little stunt," Cain said, laughing. "Didn't think you could run from this war, did you?"
Cain laughed as Cyrus fell silent, with the young woman left confused about what Cain was laughing about. Then, Cain excused himself to go to bed. A few minutes after Cain left, Dyna violently shook Cyrus' shoulder.
"What is it?" he asked, irritated. But Dyna's gaze was turned to the rolling sand dunes in the horizon.
"Shadows..." she said, her voice almost a whisper.
"I don't see anything," he said. "Its probably just fatigue. You're beginning to hallucinate."
~~~
The next morning, the caravan started off again. Cyrus, Dyna and Dagan were once again lazing around in their almost empty wagon, with Selene chatting with the driver again. The morning was uneventful, and the group wiled the hours away in silence. Dyna sat near the entrance, polishing her golden basinet. Dagan sat near her. The bored barbarian was counting the desert cacti the wagon had passed. Cyrus was further inside, praying and conducting his spiritual exercises.
Suddenly, the wagon came to a halt. This time, all three occupants remained indifferent. Suddenly, Cyrus bolted upright. He sensed something nearby, something that he knew he didn't like. His piercing brown eyes grew wide, and a frown formed on his face. He slowly took his sword, his grip on the handle tightening.
"Something wrong?" Dagan asked. "Demons?"
"Worse..." Cyrus snarled.
"What could be worse than demons?" the confused north man asked. Suddenly, an almost pale, raven-haired woman in ebony chainmail appeared at the wagon entrance.
"The caravan leader Warriv said my prisoner and I can hitch a ride if we can find a wagon with room," the woman said. "Got room?"
"Yes. Come aboard," Dyna said. She turned to Cyrus, smiling. "Scared of mage-slayers, Cyrus? Worse than a demon? Not a very gentlemanly thing to say to a woman..."
"Not her," Cyrus said grimly. Then, the assassin's prisoner came into view.
"The necromancer.."
In one smooth motion, Cyrus raised his sword, pointing it at the necromancer, and launched himself. But before he could reach the death mage, he felt the tree trunk-like arms of the barbarian stop him cold.
"Its not worth blood, Cyrus," Dagan said. Cyrus, still enraged, looked down. The assassin's great talons were a hair's breadth from his throat, with the long middle talon already pressed to his skin.
"Easy, tiger," the assassin said in her silky voice, smiling at the paladin. "If I wanted him dead, I would've done it myself. As the case is, my Order needs him alive, and I don't intend to return with a pale, useless corpse."
The necromancer looked amusedly at the paladin with his gaunt eyes. The platinum-haired death mage laughed, straining at the chains that securely bound his hands.
"Oh my, several days in a cramped wagon with a short-tempered zealot," he remarked. "And I thought Hell could wait 'til I was dead!"
"Just get on board, Melchor," the assassin said, exasperated. She turned to the paladin. "By the way, my name is Viene, and mages do not call me the Black Widow for nothing. So, keep away from my prize."
"As you say, mistress," the necromancer answered sarcastically as the assassin half-dragged him in. He looked at the paladin once more. "Oh come now, boy, I'm sure charity is written somewhere in your code. I mean, we could share this rickety old wagon with a servant of the Light, couldn't we?"
"I'd no sooner toss you overboard," Cyrus growled. It took a few more seconds before Dyna and Dagan could manage to calm him down. He retreated back to his spot, seething.
"My hero..." the necromancer said sardonically, looking at Dyna. "You won't regret it. Once you die, I will make you the prettiest zombie in all of Sanctuary!"
Dyna looked at the pale old man with disgust, and moved further in. Dagan eyed the assassin and the necromancer warily. He and his people were no lovers of magic, and as a people that honored their beloved ancestors and fallen warriors, they found the dark death arts the most abominable of all magic disciplines.
"Better watch your tongue around here, desecrator," said the north man. "Next time, I might find myself unwilling to hold my friend back..."
"Do you make this many friends wherever you go?" the assassin asked her captive, sighing. "You'll have us walking under the accursed sun again with that charm of yours."
~~~
"There is no need to pray for your sanctuary, paladin. His hands are tied and there are no corpses around."
"Consider it a warning," Cyrus replied curtly, staring down the assassin. "Personally, I don't see how you can let such a disgusting being live."
"I don't like him anymore than you do," Viene said. "Heck, I'd be willing to toss gold pieces with you to see who gets to whack him. But right now, my Order needs him. I thought you, of all people, would understand."
"What is he wanted for?" asked Cyrus.
"Its classified," answered the assassin. "Besides, I don't need to give you another reason to kill my prize. The Order has set a hefty bounty on his capture too."
"And so the real reason emerges," Dyna interjected. "Its all about the money, isn't it? Is it true that all assassins are bounty hunters?"
"Few are genuinely, altruistically dedicated to the Order, much like the Paladins are dedicated to theirs," Viene said. "But the Order's leaders are wise. They knew how to attract members for its kind of work. After all, gold speaks the universal language."
"What my 'mistress' is trying to say," Melchor said sarcastically. "...is that she's a money-whore. Ow!"
The assassin had pinched his arm. "No more out of you, old man," she said.
"Old man, my foot! Why I." Melchor muttered, leaving the rest of his words inaudible.
~~~
The rest of the day passed by uneventfully. As dusk approached, with the sun about to dip into the horizon, the caravans prepared to stop once more into the night. Cyrus noticed that Dyna was restless. While the others had already wandered over to the fire, Dyna stuck close to the wagon. Cyrus approached her.
"Something wrong, Dyna?" he asked. He noticed that she was leaning on her bow. While he always carried his sword around due to force of habit, Dyna rarely went around the camp fire armed. "Expecting visitors?"
"Something doesn't feel right," she replied. "I did see shadows last night. I have this strange feeling..."
Suddenly, the wagon was hit hard. As it was about to keel over, Cyrus tackled Dyna out of the way. They hit the ground hard. Cyrus recovered first and shook his head to gather his wits about him. Realizing that he was on top of her, he immediately got up, somewhat flushed as he looked about wildly for the threat. His eyes fell on the creature that hit the wagon. It was a huge, brutish creature, with massive arms and a tiny head. It wielded a large club.
"Blunderbores!" he cried in alarm. "How...?"
"Saber Cats too," Dyna added as she got up, referring to the feline humanoids that came out of the night, hurling javelins.. She picked up a javelin that had landed right beside her and threw it back.
Realizing the danger to the caravan, the two adventurers quickly ran to the campfire shouting out warnings of the impending raid. The travelers around the fire almost fell into a panic, if not for the swift organization of an escape plan by Cyrus and Warriv.
"Warriv, take some people and try to empty the first three wagons," Cyrus told the caravan leader. "Pile in all the people. Leave everything non-essential. Make sure everybody, especially Cain, makes it to Lut Gholein. Those with weapons will try to hold the monsters off."
"But what about you?" Cain asked, worried.
"I'll meet you at the bar in Lut Gholein," Cyrus answered. "I swear on my honor, I will come. Now, go!"
Fortunately, the wagons were parked in a straight line. The monsters ravaged the rear wagons first. With the warriors about to contain them in the rear, there would be enough time for Warriv, Cain and the other travelers to escape. While Warriv and some of the drivers rushed to empty the three front wagons, Cyrus, Dyna and the rest of those who could fight, scrambled to get their gear and meet the threat.
Cyrus already had his sword ready. Unmindful of the fact that he had neither armor, shield, nor helm, he charged into the fray. In one great swipe, he decapitated two Saber Cats, then charged at a Blunderbore bearing down on Selene. The frightened sorceress threw a glacial spike on impulse, allowing the knight to shatter the hulking beast into a thousand pieces.
"Are you alright?" he asked her. She just nodded, still shaken. The paladin quickly rushed into battle again.
Viene buried her talons into the gullet of another Saber Cat, ripping out its entrails and scattering them over the desert sands. But for every Cat she killed, more seemed to come to take its place. Soon, she and Melchor were surrounded. Still, she fought madly, spilling Cat blood even as their weapons continued to wound her. The necromancer was left to dodging incoming attacks.
"You had better free my arms, woman!" the angry death mage said, shouting over the noise.
"Are you crazy?" the assassin replied, panting. "And let you escape?"
"You don't have a choice!" he said. "You can't fight them all off alone. We'll both die!"
The assassin finally gave in. Before the next wave of Saber Cats could come, she unlocked the chains that bound the necromancer's hands. The necromancer then raised his arms.
"Now, I will show you power..."
Dagan rushed back to the rear wagon to find his axe, only to find the wagon on its side. With his bare hands, he ripped the cloth that was the wagon's roof, and tried to search for his weapon within. But before he could do so, a large Blunderbore lumbered behind him and tried to smash him with its club. He skillfully dodged the blow. Taking a plank of wood, he waited for the next blow. The blow came, and he dodged. But the Blunderbore took its time raising the club again. Dagan hopped on the club and bashed the Blunderbore's head with his improvised weapon. He then went back in, and finally found his great axe.
Dyna climbed onto the fourth wagon's roof, carrying her bow and arrows with her. She leapt from roof to roof, her lithe frame easily accommodated by the structure. From the roofs, she fired her enchanted ice arrows, using them to slow down the monsters to make for easy kills. She saw Dagan and Cyrus, their backs to each other, fighting off a four Blunderbores. She slowed one down with an ice arrow, and watched as Dagan whirled and cut the monster to pieces. Cyrus was in worse shape. Since he didn't have his shield, he was reduced to blocking the heavy blows with his weapon. While successful so far, the strong blows drove him back, preventing him from attacking. Dyna quickly let loose a volley of arrows. While the arrows merely irritated the huge demons, it bought Cyrus enough time. He called on his spiritual reserves and unleashed a mighty holy bolt. While the bolt did no damage, the flash blinded the stupid creatures long enough for Cyrus to hack off one's leg and slash the other across the belly in quick succession.
Cyrus tried to catch a breather, but he soon found himself attacked by a new demon. This time, they were tall, skinny demons with four arms, each bearing a weapon. He braced himself as the first one attacked. While the demon had four weapons, it had little coordination, allowing the paladin to parry a few blows before breaching its guard and cutting it in half. As the demon fell, more came up to replace it. Suddenly, four skeletons rose around him, their skulls facing the demons. Without hesitation, the paladin burned away three with holy bolts, while smashing the skull of the fourth with a well-placed punch using his gauntlet-covered fist.
The distraction nearly cost him, as three of the wiry demons were soon upon him. He would have been overwhelmed, if not for one being felled by three arrows, with the other two cut down from behind by the burly north man.
"Are you alright? Those Sand Raiders can be pests!" Dagan called out. Cyrus got up and nodded.
"We have to rally, and soon," he said. His eye caught Dyna leaping onto the roof of the fourth wagon as she jumped away from the fifth, which was being smashed by the new demons.
"Near the wagon Dyna's on!" Cyrus said. "Quick!"
The two warriors ran to the wagon and turned to face their enemies. Cyrus looked behind him, and saw that the three lead wagons had already left. He sighed in relief. The other fighters, caravan crew with crude weapons and paid mercenary guards, rallied around them as well.
Dyna shot several arrows into the crowd of demons, felling some and greatly agitating others. The demons immediately went for the wagon, hoping to bring down the Amazon archer. This allowed the other fighter to outflank the monsters. Dagan hit one with a low blow, leaving the monster to be decapitated by a swift blow from Cyrus' sword. Beside them, a Sand Raider skewered two caravan crewmembers, twirling the impaled bodies in the air like a sick prize. Cyrus turned on the unwary demon and hacked off two of its arms, before slicing its ribcage open. Dagan leapt onto another Raider, knocking it down before splitting its head with his great axe. He roared in anger, causing some demons to flee in fear and for those that remained to lose what little coordination they had. Dyna was letting loose arrow after arrow at the targets below her, causing confusion among the demons on who to attack.
The demons were beaten back, but at great cost. Only Cyrus, Dagan, and a few other mercenaries were all that remained standing of the small group. Dagan barely had time to down a red potion before the regrouped demons advanced again. Cyrus picked up the cracked round shield of a fallen mercenary, and braced himself.
"It is a good day to die, e paladin?" Dagan said with glee. Cyrus shuddered.
"Don't say that, Dagan," he said, remembering Olaf and Leif. "I want to see you walking tomorrow."
"Huh?"
Cyrus turned his focus on the advancing demons. He felt the fanaticism of his Order rise within him, thinking of the glory of the Light, and the aura of battle-hunger seemed to engulf the rest of the small group. He grit his teeth. Then, he charged, with a loud battle cry that could have rivaled that of a barbarian. After him, the other warriors followed...
~~~
Disclaimer: I do not own Diablo II. Diablo II and all elements and characters from the game belong to Blizzard.
The Journey Home
Chapter 2 - Desert Nights
Warriv's long caravan rumbled out of the Rogue Pass and into the deserts of Aranoch. The mountain roads gave way to the soft and uneven sand of the desert, and the conditions of the terrain considerably slowed the pace down. The dozen wagons kept a steady line en route to the desert jewel, the city of Lut Gholein.
The last wagon in the train was one of the largest, but only held four occupants. Cyrus, the paladin of the Hand of Zakarum, watched the landscape thoughtfully as the shadows grew long with the setting sun. He sat on the wagon's dusty floor, leaning on his war chest. His armor was stashed in the chest, but he held his shield, polishing it absent-mindedly while admiring the setting sun. Across from him sat Dyna, the Amazon that had survived the assault on Andariel alongside him. She was concentrating on fletching her arrows, many of which were ruined before they got fired. Further within the wagon was the north man Dagan. Like the paladin, he was watching the sunset as well. His young ward was at the front of the wagon, chatting happily with the driver.
"You're not from Westmarch, are you, paladin?" Dyna asked, putting the last of her arrows aside. "No Paladin of Westmarch has dark skin. You must be from Kurast."
"Indeed, I am," Cyrus replied, snapping out of his reverie. The mere mention of his homeland sent a wave of homesickness coursing through him. "I was born and raised in Ureh, east of Kurast. So, I consider Kurast as home."
"Why are you so far from your home?" she prodded on.
"Tour of duty," he answered nonchalantly. "I spent five years in the northern steppes. A year ago, I was sent to Duncraig. The Paladins of Westmarch were being girth for war, as rumors of Leoric's armies became more pronounced. My tour was supposed to have ended after war games with the Paladins, but the war occurred, and I was forced to extend."
"How long have you been a Paladin?" she asked.
"Ten years," he said. "I joined the Order of the Hand of Zakarum, the most militant of the orders. I was knighted when I was sixteen, at the top of my class. As soon as I was knighted, I was sent overseas by the Order, in order to supplement a manpower shortage worldwide. Haven't seen home since."
"There have been several tales about your feats during the war told around the camp fire," she said. "You are but a year older than me, and yet you have the experience of a warrior twice your age..."
"It is my fate, I suppose," he replied pensively. "How about you, Amazon? Your leader told me you were green, but no apprentice could have had the composure to hit Andariel in the eye with a single arrow."
"She has high standards. To her, I am inexperienced," she replied. "I was a captain back home, so I am versed in arts of singular combat and small group tactics. But unlike the others that I had come with, I had never faced demons in battle before coming to that Rogue encampment."
"What brought you with them, so far from home?"
"I have my reasons... "
Realizing that his new friend would not divulge any further, the paladin decided to make conversation with the barbarian, who until then had been content listening to the two.
"So, Dagan, what brings you here?" he asked.
"I have to keep watch over Selene," the north man replied. "She is only seventeen, and impulsive. I had to keep her out of trouble, but she has more energy that a ravenous bear cub. I shouldn't have been surprised she decided to tag along to Lut Gholein."
"North men abhor magic, and rarely travel with mages," Cyrus observed. "Why do you follow her around like a nursemaid?"
"It is a blood-oath," Dagan said. "Once, a Zann Esu sorceress saved the son of the Mountain Lion's chief. Ever since that day, the Mountain Lion tribe has pledged to provide Zann Esu sorceresses with protectors for as long as they request it, until such time that one of the tribe dies in the defense of a sorceress, and the oath our ancient chief made is fulfilled."
"Oh, so you were assigned to young Selene?"
"Yes. She was just thirteen then. Her mentor wanted someone to protect her, for the steppes are harsh to foreigners. I was just twenty- three summers old then, newly a man and a warrior. I was the nearest to her age as the chief could provide. I've been stuck with her since."
The caravan wagon suddenly came to a stop. All three occupants bolted upright. Cyrus reached for his sword, while Dyna strapped on her quiver. Dagan already had his axe on hand. They braced for an assault. But instead of a screaming, blood-thirsty demon, Selene's smiling face appeared at the wagon's entrance.
"They said the we're stopping for the night," the young sorceress said. "You should all come to the fire."
~~~
Cyrus quietly snuck away from the crowd gathered around the fire. He wandered around the makeshift camp, occasionally peering out into the sand dunes. He had a bad feeling in his gut, but he could not tell why. He walked over to where the horses were tethered. He approached one of the restless mares and stroked the animal's nose.
"You like horses, Cyrus?"
Cyrus turned and saw Dyna standing right behind him. He smiled. "Yes, I do."
"Do you ride often?"
"I haven't ridden a horse in six years," he replied wistfully. "The north men didn't like riding, and the Paladins of Westmarch were mainly infantry. I haven't mounted a steed since my days in Lycander. It's the only Amazon Island with enough flat plains to ride around in."
"You were in Lycander?" she asked, a hint of surprise in her voice. "When?"
"Lycander was the first stop of my tour," he replied. "I spent four years there. Beautiful place."
Before the Amazon could ask another question, Deckard Cain interrupted them. The wizened old Horadrim sage approached them, carrying a small pouch.
"Good evening," he said jovially. Cyrus returned his greeting politely.
"What can I do you for tonight, Sir Cain?" he said.
"I promised I would return this when we met again," said Cain. "And, between the fall of Tristram and Hell's minions...here I am."
"Glad you made it back," Cyrus said, taking the pouch. "You were brave. Your efforts in Tristram bought us enough time to push back Leoric's offensive."
Cyrus opened the pouch and took out a golden ring. He placed the ring on his right ring finger.
"I've heard of your little stunt," Cain said, laughing. "Didn't think you could run from this war, did you?"
Cain laughed as Cyrus fell silent, with the young woman left confused about what Cain was laughing about. Then, Cain excused himself to go to bed. A few minutes after Cain left, Dyna violently shook Cyrus' shoulder.
"What is it?" he asked, irritated. But Dyna's gaze was turned to the rolling sand dunes in the horizon.
"Shadows..." she said, her voice almost a whisper.
"I don't see anything," he said. "Its probably just fatigue. You're beginning to hallucinate."
~~~
The next morning, the caravan started off again. Cyrus, Dyna and Dagan were once again lazing around in their almost empty wagon, with Selene chatting with the driver again. The morning was uneventful, and the group wiled the hours away in silence. Dyna sat near the entrance, polishing her golden basinet. Dagan sat near her. The bored barbarian was counting the desert cacti the wagon had passed. Cyrus was further inside, praying and conducting his spiritual exercises.
Suddenly, the wagon came to a halt. This time, all three occupants remained indifferent. Suddenly, Cyrus bolted upright. He sensed something nearby, something that he knew he didn't like. His piercing brown eyes grew wide, and a frown formed on his face. He slowly took his sword, his grip on the handle tightening.
"Something wrong?" Dagan asked. "Demons?"
"Worse..." Cyrus snarled.
"What could be worse than demons?" the confused north man asked. Suddenly, an almost pale, raven-haired woman in ebony chainmail appeared at the wagon entrance.
"The caravan leader Warriv said my prisoner and I can hitch a ride if we can find a wagon with room," the woman said. "Got room?"
"Yes. Come aboard," Dyna said. She turned to Cyrus, smiling. "Scared of mage-slayers, Cyrus? Worse than a demon? Not a very gentlemanly thing to say to a woman..."
"Not her," Cyrus said grimly. Then, the assassin's prisoner came into view.
"The necromancer.."
In one smooth motion, Cyrus raised his sword, pointing it at the necromancer, and launched himself. But before he could reach the death mage, he felt the tree trunk-like arms of the barbarian stop him cold.
"Its not worth blood, Cyrus," Dagan said. Cyrus, still enraged, looked down. The assassin's great talons were a hair's breadth from his throat, with the long middle talon already pressed to his skin.
"Easy, tiger," the assassin said in her silky voice, smiling at the paladin. "If I wanted him dead, I would've done it myself. As the case is, my Order needs him alive, and I don't intend to return with a pale, useless corpse."
The necromancer looked amusedly at the paladin with his gaunt eyes. The platinum-haired death mage laughed, straining at the chains that securely bound his hands.
"Oh my, several days in a cramped wagon with a short-tempered zealot," he remarked. "And I thought Hell could wait 'til I was dead!"
"Just get on board, Melchor," the assassin said, exasperated. She turned to the paladin. "By the way, my name is Viene, and mages do not call me the Black Widow for nothing. So, keep away from my prize."
"As you say, mistress," the necromancer answered sarcastically as the assassin half-dragged him in. He looked at the paladin once more. "Oh come now, boy, I'm sure charity is written somewhere in your code. I mean, we could share this rickety old wagon with a servant of the Light, couldn't we?"
"I'd no sooner toss you overboard," Cyrus growled. It took a few more seconds before Dyna and Dagan could manage to calm him down. He retreated back to his spot, seething.
"My hero..." the necromancer said sardonically, looking at Dyna. "You won't regret it. Once you die, I will make you the prettiest zombie in all of Sanctuary!"
Dyna looked at the pale old man with disgust, and moved further in. Dagan eyed the assassin and the necromancer warily. He and his people were no lovers of magic, and as a people that honored their beloved ancestors and fallen warriors, they found the dark death arts the most abominable of all magic disciplines.
"Better watch your tongue around here, desecrator," said the north man. "Next time, I might find myself unwilling to hold my friend back..."
"Do you make this many friends wherever you go?" the assassin asked her captive, sighing. "You'll have us walking under the accursed sun again with that charm of yours."
~~~
"There is no need to pray for your sanctuary, paladin. His hands are tied and there are no corpses around."
"Consider it a warning," Cyrus replied curtly, staring down the assassin. "Personally, I don't see how you can let such a disgusting being live."
"I don't like him anymore than you do," Viene said. "Heck, I'd be willing to toss gold pieces with you to see who gets to whack him. But right now, my Order needs him. I thought you, of all people, would understand."
"What is he wanted for?" asked Cyrus.
"Its classified," answered the assassin. "Besides, I don't need to give you another reason to kill my prize. The Order has set a hefty bounty on his capture too."
"And so the real reason emerges," Dyna interjected. "Its all about the money, isn't it? Is it true that all assassins are bounty hunters?"
"Few are genuinely, altruistically dedicated to the Order, much like the Paladins are dedicated to theirs," Viene said. "But the Order's leaders are wise. They knew how to attract members for its kind of work. After all, gold speaks the universal language."
"What my 'mistress' is trying to say," Melchor said sarcastically. "...is that she's a money-whore. Ow!"
The assassin had pinched his arm. "No more out of you, old man," she said.
"Old man, my foot! Why I." Melchor muttered, leaving the rest of his words inaudible.
~~~
The rest of the day passed by uneventfully. As dusk approached, with the sun about to dip into the horizon, the caravans prepared to stop once more into the night. Cyrus noticed that Dyna was restless. While the others had already wandered over to the fire, Dyna stuck close to the wagon. Cyrus approached her.
"Something wrong, Dyna?" he asked. He noticed that she was leaning on her bow. While he always carried his sword around due to force of habit, Dyna rarely went around the camp fire armed. "Expecting visitors?"
"Something doesn't feel right," she replied. "I did see shadows last night. I have this strange feeling..."
Suddenly, the wagon was hit hard. As it was about to keel over, Cyrus tackled Dyna out of the way. They hit the ground hard. Cyrus recovered first and shook his head to gather his wits about him. Realizing that he was on top of her, he immediately got up, somewhat flushed as he looked about wildly for the threat. His eyes fell on the creature that hit the wagon. It was a huge, brutish creature, with massive arms and a tiny head. It wielded a large club.
"Blunderbores!" he cried in alarm. "How...?"
"Saber Cats too," Dyna added as she got up, referring to the feline humanoids that came out of the night, hurling javelins.. She picked up a javelin that had landed right beside her and threw it back.
Realizing the danger to the caravan, the two adventurers quickly ran to the campfire shouting out warnings of the impending raid. The travelers around the fire almost fell into a panic, if not for the swift organization of an escape plan by Cyrus and Warriv.
"Warriv, take some people and try to empty the first three wagons," Cyrus told the caravan leader. "Pile in all the people. Leave everything non-essential. Make sure everybody, especially Cain, makes it to Lut Gholein. Those with weapons will try to hold the monsters off."
"But what about you?" Cain asked, worried.
"I'll meet you at the bar in Lut Gholein," Cyrus answered. "I swear on my honor, I will come. Now, go!"
Fortunately, the wagons were parked in a straight line. The monsters ravaged the rear wagons first. With the warriors about to contain them in the rear, there would be enough time for Warriv, Cain and the other travelers to escape. While Warriv and some of the drivers rushed to empty the three front wagons, Cyrus, Dyna and the rest of those who could fight, scrambled to get their gear and meet the threat.
Cyrus already had his sword ready. Unmindful of the fact that he had neither armor, shield, nor helm, he charged into the fray. In one great swipe, he decapitated two Saber Cats, then charged at a Blunderbore bearing down on Selene. The frightened sorceress threw a glacial spike on impulse, allowing the knight to shatter the hulking beast into a thousand pieces.
"Are you alright?" he asked her. She just nodded, still shaken. The paladin quickly rushed into battle again.
Viene buried her talons into the gullet of another Saber Cat, ripping out its entrails and scattering them over the desert sands. But for every Cat she killed, more seemed to come to take its place. Soon, she and Melchor were surrounded. Still, she fought madly, spilling Cat blood even as their weapons continued to wound her. The necromancer was left to dodging incoming attacks.
"You had better free my arms, woman!" the angry death mage said, shouting over the noise.
"Are you crazy?" the assassin replied, panting. "And let you escape?"
"You don't have a choice!" he said. "You can't fight them all off alone. We'll both die!"
The assassin finally gave in. Before the next wave of Saber Cats could come, she unlocked the chains that bound the necromancer's hands. The necromancer then raised his arms.
"Now, I will show you power..."
Dagan rushed back to the rear wagon to find his axe, only to find the wagon on its side. With his bare hands, he ripped the cloth that was the wagon's roof, and tried to search for his weapon within. But before he could do so, a large Blunderbore lumbered behind him and tried to smash him with its club. He skillfully dodged the blow. Taking a plank of wood, he waited for the next blow. The blow came, and he dodged. But the Blunderbore took its time raising the club again. Dagan hopped on the club and bashed the Blunderbore's head with his improvised weapon. He then went back in, and finally found his great axe.
Dyna climbed onto the fourth wagon's roof, carrying her bow and arrows with her. She leapt from roof to roof, her lithe frame easily accommodated by the structure. From the roofs, she fired her enchanted ice arrows, using them to slow down the monsters to make for easy kills. She saw Dagan and Cyrus, their backs to each other, fighting off a four Blunderbores. She slowed one down with an ice arrow, and watched as Dagan whirled and cut the monster to pieces. Cyrus was in worse shape. Since he didn't have his shield, he was reduced to blocking the heavy blows with his weapon. While successful so far, the strong blows drove him back, preventing him from attacking. Dyna quickly let loose a volley of arrows. While the arrows merely irritated the huge demons, it bought Cyrus enough time. He called on his spiritual reserves and unleashed a mighty holy bolt. While the bolt did no damage, the flash blinded the stupid creatures long enough for Cyrus to hack off one's leg and slash the other across the belly in quick succession.
Cyrus tried to catch a breather, but he soon found himself attacked by a new demon. This time, they were tall, skinny demons with four arms, each bearing a weapon. He braced himself as the first one attacked. While the demon had four weapons, it had little coordination, allowing the paladin to parry a few blows before breaching its guard and cutting it in half. As the demon fell, more came up to replace it. Suddenly, four skeletons rose around him, their skulls facing the demons. Without hesitation, the paladin burned away three with holy bolts, while smashing the skull of the fourth with a well-placed punch using his gauntlet-covered fist.
The distraction nearly cost him, as three of the wiry demons were soon upon him. He would have been overwhelmed, if not for one being felled by three arrows, with the other two cut down from behind by the burly north man.
"Are you alright? Those Sand Raiders can be pests!" Dagan called out. Cyrus got up and nodded.
"We have to rally, and soon," he said. His eye caught Dyna leaping onto the roof of the fourth wagon as she jumped away from the fifth, which was being smashed by the new demons.
"Near the wagon Dyna's on!" Cyrus said. "Quick!"
The two warriors ran to the wagon and turned to face their enemies. Cyrus looked behind him, and saw that the three lead wagons had already left. He sighed in relief. The other fighters, caravan crew with crude weapons and paid mercenary guards, rallied around them as well.
Dyna shot several arrows into the crowd of demons, felling some and greatly agitating others. The demons immediately went for the wagon, hoping to bring down the Amazon archer. This allowed the other fighter to outflank the monsters. Dagan hit one with a low blow, leaving the monster to be decapitated by a swift blow from Cyrus' sword. Beside them, a Sand Raider skewered two caravan crewmembers, twirling the impaled bodies in the air like a sick prize. Cyrus turned on the unwary demon and hacked off two of its arms, before slicing its ribcage open. Dagan leapt onto another Raider, knocking it down before splitting its head with his great axe. He roared in anger, causing some demons to flee in fear and for those that remained to lose what little coordination they had. Dyna was letting loose arrow after arrow at the targets below her, causing confusion among the demons on who to attack.
The demons were beaten back, but at great cost. Only Cyrus, Dagan, and a few other mercenaries were all that remained standing of the small group. Dagan barely had time to down a red potion before the regrouped demons advanced again. Cyrus picked up the cracked round shield of a fallen mercenary, and braced himself.
"It is a good day to die, e paladin?" Dagan said with glee. Cyrus shuddered.
"Don't say that, Dagan," he said, remembering Olaf and Leif. "I want to see you walking tomorrow."
"Huh?"
Cyrus turned his focus on the advancing demons. He felt the fanaticism of his Order rise within him, thinking of the glory of the Light, and the aura of battle-hunger seemed to engulf the rest of the small group. He grit his teeth. Then, he charged, with a loud battle cry that could have rivaled that of a barbarian. After him, the other warriors followed...
~~~
