Section Eleven: The Jack's Redemption
Fox sighed, watching the sun go down. He was standing on one of the hills overlooking the camp, back toward the dark mountain.
The last three days had been full of urgent preparation, and now there was less then twenty-four hours before the ceremony started. The current plan was to hit during the start of the procedure, in hopes to backfire it.
"You haven't changed much."
"Evening Wolf." Fox replied, glancing at the archangel. "What do you mean?"
"I mean you have a bad habit of sneaking off alone." Wolf replied, moving to stand behind Fox, also staring at the sun, which now barely peeked over the horizon. Shadows were stretched long, and fires were coming to life all over the camp below them. The new camp arrangement had worked out perfectly.
"Bad habit?"
"Considering how close the advance scouts of our… friends have come, yes, bad habit." He sighed. "I wish you weren't here."
"Come again?" Fox glanced at Wolf.
"This is the worst place for you to be. You may beg to differ, being you're Hallowed, but that makes you as much a danger as an asset. Hextor wants to corrupt you, and he'll do almost anything to do so." Wolf sighed again.
"I can't see that happening."
"I didn't see myself ending up in Heironeous' halls."
There was a long silence as the pair watched the moon rise.
"That look a bit odd to you?"
"Actually, yes… it's going dark too fast…" Fox paused, going over a calendar in his head. "Lunar eclipse." He finally concluded.
The two looked at each other.
"Oh, heavenfire. Wasn't the reason we said full moon for the ceremony the absence of moonlight…?" Wolf said slowly.
"We're a day off." Fox said, and sprinted down the hill toward the camp, shouting at the top of his lungs. Even as he did, alarms started sounding. The gods had already seen the eclipse, and now all units were being called to arms. The camp dissolved into chaos briefly as everyone ran where they were supposed to be, collecting weapons and donning armor.
"They're early. The bastards are early." Bendel was cursing when Fox arrived at the command tent, panting, as Wolf did.
"Or we were going to be late." Said the Jack mildly with a shrug.
"Don't even start with me, Momus." Bendel jabbed the Jack in the chest with a claw, then turned to the gods, who were already in armor and carrying weaponry. "Are we ready?"
"As we'll ever be. It's just as well that it's happening tonight." Said Pelor.
"Correction. It's happening now." Said Ehlonna, glancing up. "Power surge on the mountain. Sacrifices."
"Let's move out then." Assorted gods disappeared to their designated areas, rallying their troops and preparing to attack. Even as they did, the gate alarms screamed, and the word "Ambush!" started circulating. Those staying at the base rallied to defend, waiting and watching as a dark wave poured down the mountain. Fox himself was one of those at the head of the defensive lines, both to his relief and dismay. Heironeous had elected him to the position, so he dealt with it as he could, and most of his group was also denoted to defend. Tempest was accompanying one of Corellon's first-strike groups, Falco was with the dragons, and both Alan and Sashima were with the Jack's units, doing a massive offensive against the mountain.
"What are we left with of the force?" Fox asked, glancing one side, then blinking. Moradin was supposed to be standing nearby, but someone else had taken the position beside him.
"About twenty percent. That's all that could be spared." James McCloud replied, leaning on the pommel of his saddle. "Everyone else is carrying out the plan. Which, I must say, isn't bad considering the circumstances." He grinned at Fox's bewilderment. "Hello again, son."
"I thought you'd be with Heironeous' front lines."
"I could have been, but I requested to be here."
"So you're who he used to brag about?" Moradin asked, twirling his hammer around in circles absently as he eyed James. "You don't look like much."
"I hear that's what you say about most disciples under other gods." James smiled a bit, then focused forward. "Here they come."
"CHARGE!"
Tempest paused mid-duel, looking down the mountain as the wave composed of the Blood Bayou army smashed into the mountain defenses and ran them over, the Jack of Tears in the lead. Corellon, Heironeous, and Pelor were the first gods to hit, coordinating an attack simultaneously as the dragons hit the peak and the flanks. So far, the attack had gone according to plan.
He turned back to the matter at hand. His split-second pause had allowed the three he was facing to catch their breath, but he still didn't have much trouble defending against them and dispatching them, throwing the three—all followers of Erythnul—over the nearest cliff and charging back into the bloody fight. The suddenness of the attack had dispelled the cloud cover, but the moonless night made the fight even harder. Shadow-melding dark fighters sprang out of nothingness to stab you in the back, vampires charged in with the intent to rip out your throat, a thousand dangers from all directions. But the force of the light gods were doing damage, that was certain: they had forced their way up the mountain and were beginning to wrap around, the dragons having taken out everything toward the top, and the Jack's forces were picking off everything left and hiding.
"Regroup!"
This command rang across the field, Pelor's commanding, sun-bright voice, and instantly soldiers were stopping in mid-fight and partly retreating, gathering near their god, whose avatar hovered over the battlefield, golden-white wings slowly beating, intense glyphs spinning and appearing around him as mass-healing spells pulsed across those gathered. Not long later, Heironeous also called his soldiers back, and a surge of armored fighters gathered on the mountainside, medics and healers doing what they could about the wounds. Corellon's forces kept moving forward, patrolling what was already cleared, picking off remaining guards in towers, preventing their allies from getting hit.
"All well enough so far." Corellon's voice remarked to Tempest, and a flutter of a minor healing spell passed through him, then the touch moved on.
"Gods I wish he wouldn't do that." Tempest growled to himself, wiping off the blades of his sword and catching his breath. The mountainsides were slick with blood. He sighed, moving back toward where the soldiers were gathering. Other followers of Corellon were also slowly falling back, not wanting to proceed too far without decent support.
Rocks clattered, and Tempest mindlessly spun and brought his sword up, blocking Heian's blade. The sharp clang rang through the cold air as they made a standoff, sword blades grinding together, glaring into each other's eyes.
"How did you survive the wounds I gave you, Himo?" Heian hissed.
"I have interesting friends." Tempest replied. "Who are you working for? Which dark god has promised you glory?"
"I'm working for no one, old friend. Merely forwarding my best interests."
"I have a hard time believing that."
The two shoved away from each other, circled, and Tempest attacked, sword flashing around him. Heian blocked easily and countered, snarling when blood was drawn on one of his legs, returning the favor with a scratch up Tempest's arm. As the fight continued, the gods moved out again, and the ground rattled slightly as a trio of Blood Bayou golems thundered right by them, close enough to touch, only to be met by dark forces that sprang out of cover, screaming challenge.
"That is enough!"
Both were suddenly slammed with power, knocked apart and to the ground. Tempest snarled as he got to his feet, expecting one of the light gods, and gaped when he saw it was Lolth herself. She had chosen to incarnate as a Drow, a stately but deeply evil Matron Mother. A many-headed whip was coiled at her belt, as well as a slender-bladed sword which was still dripping blood from her last kill.
"Nerrivous, I made myself perfectly clear." Remarked the avatar in a cutting voice, walking forward, wrapping her hand around the hilt of her sword.
"Himo Galanodel is my adversary, Lolth!" Heian spat, getting to his feet. "I told you that before!"
"And I told you the Galanodels are MY sacrifices, filthy surface elf!" She snarled in reply. "You were supposed to kill him years ago, and you didn't! I should have had you hunted down as a sacrifice just for disobeying me!"
"Burn in the daylight, dark goddess." He spat in reply. "You aren't going to stop me from getting my revenge."
"Perhaps. But they will." Lolth grinned, and a large group of Drow fighters appeared, circling both Tempest and Heian, weapons drawn. "Kill them both." She commanded. "And make it as painful as you can."
Tempest exchanged a look with his enemy. "Fine bloody mess you've gotten yourself in to." He remarked as the two automatically turned back to back, watching for the first Drow to attack.
"You forget my first rule of war." Was the simple reply. "Always have a second plan." And with that, he disappeared.
At nearly the same time a dark form almost landed on top of the circle, and there was a rather angry snort. "Gods damn it. He would have made a nice snack too. You'll do." And the Drow circle scattered as Jordan lunged at them like a snake, bolting away and regrouping to reassess the situation, leaving only three to back up their goddess. Jordan happily followed those running, lightning dribbling from his mouth then shooting out in a blinding blast, overtaking at least half those he was chasing.
Tempest snarled, holding his sword ready as he turned to face Lolth. "You want me dead, Lolth?! Come at me!" When she didn't react, he grinned. "Or are you afraid?"
"That is the last thing I am." She replied in a cold voice. "Soldiers, make sure none interfere. I shall take care of this vile male myself."
"Steady!" Fox shouted, galloping up the lines to the center, the others in command pacing him. His father had deferred all authority to him. A majority of the gods were on the offensive, but Moradin, Kord, and Ehlonna had stayed behind, along with a majority of their fighters. The lines were set up carefully, archers on the guard towers, healers pacing back and forth, waiting. The dark wave was on the last hundred meters to the lines.
"Lock your shields!" Moradin's voice boomed, and the front lines dropped into a defensive posture, tower shields digging into the ground, bracing for the impact. The very front line was almost completely made of dwarves, as well as the occasional orc or human, and all were muscular and in heavy armor, sworn to defend.
Fox watched as the dark wave thundered at them, a variety of monsters and beings, all avowed to darkness and evil. When they were less then twenty feet away, he reared his horse and shouted "Now!" at the top of his lungs.
A barrage of arrows soared from the defensive lines and sunk into the attacking units, striking down or wounding hundreds, which were trampled by those following. The second onslaught of arrows was released as the waves clashed, the attackers hitting the defenders full sprint. Swords flashed and sharp-edged shields were swung, and it was soon apparent that for every soldier of the light that fell, at least ten of the dark army went down. Healers cast mass-healing spells constantly, but the lines held.
The dark army fell back and began regrouping, and the defensive line stepped down and tightened ranks as the defenders reassessed the situation, those in command regrouping.
"We must have taken out twenty percent of the force right there." Kord remarked, crossing his arms. "But they're wearing us down. Two or three more hits and our defense will be too tired to really perform well. No offense, Moradin."
"No, I agree." The dwarvin god replied, wiping blood off of his war hammer absently. "Any ideas?" He glanced at Fox. "As odd as it is reporting to a mortal…"
"We change formation." Fox replied, crouching in the dust and drawing a diagram with a finger absently. The others also crouched. "We're a straight line right now. We change formation to a curve going away from the enemy." He wiped out the diagram and redrew it. "Bolstering the center and flanks."
"Funneling them in. Not bad." Said Ehlonna, leaning her weight into her sword absently, the tip of which was planted in the dirt. "That won't solve the exhaustion problem though…"
"Give the artillery the authorization to hit them while far away. We're going to let them hit us once more…"
"Then?" Kord inquired.
"False retreat. Funnel them in completely and hit them from both sides."
"Hmn. Risky. Higher chance of losses." Moradin played with his beard absently.
"But if it's done right, we'll sweep them entirely. Wipe out everything coming at us." Said James, nodding approvingly.
"Let's do it then." The group split up and rearranged the lines, and they were barely done when the dark army hit again.
Tempest bent backward as Lolth's corrupted blade flashed over him, balancing himself with one hand and defending with the other, then completing the flip and coming back to his feet, attacking as she did. The three remaining Drow loomed nearby, arms crossed and eyes flashing. This part of the battlefield was empty, the war had moved on to elsewhere, the light forces pressing forward, forcing the enemy to fall back, defend, and fall back again.
He hadn't seen Heian since his rival had last disappeared, but he suspected that he was nearby. Not that it mattered at the moment, he was focused on the fight, trying to catch the black goddess off guard, which was nearly impossible. He knew it would be death to let that tainted blade so much as touch him, and because of that he was spending a majority of his time on defense, assessing and reassessing the goddess' fighting style. Like her followers, she was a cold, efficient fighter, not getting angry, spending no extra energy to complete her moves. There were few flaws in the style, even less that could be taken advantage of. Furthermore, he knew that just grazing her wouldn't work. He'd have to make the wound deep and mortal, a finishing blow in one hit.
'Ah, the trouble I get myself in to.' He thought to himself, going on defense again. 'But she deserves the pain. It's only what she dealt to me.'
"I see… why Heian… had so many problems killing you." Lolth hissed between moves, attacking harder and harder.
"I know his style." Tempest replied, defending flawlessly, then attacking viciously. "He should have lost." He put his weight into it, knocking Lolth back, and took a ready position.
Lolth snarled and charged, spitting out words in Undercommon. Tempest knew it was the start of a spell and dove out of the way, staying on the defensive and countering with what dispel-magic incantations he knew. Still, acidic searing bit at his bones, and he was forced farther on the defense as she came at him again, this time her three remaining followers attacking as well.
"Enough!"
Lolth was blown back and to the ground by a sudden blast of light, and the three Drow were also forced back. Corellon was suddenly standing beside Tempest, glowing intensely, fury written over his face.
"I had no problem with my follower fighting you, Lolth." He snarled, stalking up to the dark Goddess, who was blinded and dazed. He yanked her to her feet and smacked her as hard as he could, making blood fly up. "But the fight is going to be fair." He dumped her back to the ground, and cast a regeneration spell. The pain that was locking up Tempest's muscles dissolved, and his exhaustion left him. Lolth slowly stood back up, rubbing her face even if the damage was already healed. "You are not going to perform magic spells of any sort. Nor are you going to call in others to help you." And with that he left, taking the three cringing Drow with him.
"You called him in?" Lolth demanded, pointing in the direction Corellon left in.
"No, he arrived of his own will." Tempest replied. "I'm not happy about it either, but I appreciate what he did."
There was a long, silent pause, and then they attacked each other at the same time, blades flashing as they circled, moving so fast they blurred.
"What happened to Denev shaking the mountain?" Falco shouted, leaning forward so the dragon had a better chance of hearing him. He was sitting on the back of the copper dragon he had befriended on his first quest with Fox.
"As far as I know it's still part of the plan." The dragon replied over his shoulder, spiraling up toward where Bahamut hovered. "Do you know, boss?"
"We're running behind." Bahamut rumbled, landing on the peak and crouching. "The light forces attacking are spent. They're regrouping down there." He pointed as the copper landed below him, Falco craning his neck to look up at him. "Only people still moving are my forces and the Blood Bayou, and the ceremony is still going on. We didn't even distract them."
"Great." Falco moaned. "So what now?"
"Not sure what we can do." The dragon god admitted. "We have to wait for Denev."
"What's taking her so long?"
"She's weak, Falco. Don't tell anyone else I said this, but titan or no, I think she's dying. She's got to gather her strength to do this, and I'm honestly not sure she has enough to do it." He sighed, shaking his head. "We're going to have to gather what we have left and see if we can directly interfere with the ceremony. Near as I can tell, with the power that's building up, we maybe have five minutes. Maybe."
"Let's get the word out then."
"Hold them back!" Moradin thundered, smashing his war hammer to the ground. Earthquake ripples spread out from him, knocking over a dozen enemies to the ground and making them easy targets for nearby allies.
Fox dodged around Moradin, his unicorn dashing forward, goring an enemy as Fox swept down with his swords, messily decapitating three others. Beside him his father fought, using a glaive to do damage in a wide circle around him. He had dismounted at the start of the second wave, and now fought on foot, wiping out enemy soldiers before they could reach the tiring defensive line. Eventually the enemy fell back again, after hitting the line for over five minutes straight.
"We didn't have time to go through with the plan." Kord remarked, sword propped on his shoulder.
"We will as soon as we're hit the next time." Moradin said. "Just as well that we didn't, we did a lot of damage."
"We lost a quarter of our defenders." Ehlonna said, appearing as those in command gathered again. "At least half of those collapsed because of stress and exhaustion. We may not be loosing a lot of people to death, but we've got a lot of wounded."
"Why hasn't the ceremony been stopped yet?" James wanted to know, stepping over bodies, wings closing absently. In an attempt to do more damage during the fight, he had stepped up to his incarna form.
Kord disappeared, then reappeared. "The forces on the offense are spent. They've taken more then half the mountain, but the only people still on the move are the Jack's forces."
"How much time do we have left?" Fox asked, suddenly very worried.
Thunder boomed, and lightning flashed up and down the mountain. The valley, which was somewhat warm, suddenly grew cold and still as a frozen wind blew down the mountain and spread, as if winter had exhaled.
"I'd say none." Moradin said quietly. "We're too late."
The dark forces, bolstered by the cold wind, hit the defensive lines once more. This time, the commands were issued, and the false retreat went into effect. Hungry for blood, the dark forces followed, and only too late did they realize what was happening. The forces of light surrounded and attacked, though they knew it was a useless gesture. The defending lines had stood, and won the fight, but the war was, apparently, lost.
The cold wind blasted across the mountain, and the offensive gods hung their heads for a moment. They hadn't moved fast enough, hadn't fought hard enough. They had destroyed the greater part of the dark forces, over 60% by most estimates, but they hadn't stopped the ceremony.
Tempest felt the wind hit, and saw Lolth pause, looking toward the source. He took his chance and charged, leaving himself wide open in an attempt to land a fatal blow. Lolth reacted belatedly and wasn't able to block his blade. Dark blood sprayed, and Lolth fell to the ground, gasping, Tempest's sword right through her heart.
"You made a very, very bad mistake when you struck against my family." Tempest snarled, yanking out the blade. "I hope you've learned something about the elves that you will remember for eternity." He slashed again, neatly cutting open her throat, and turned his back, going to where the light forces had corrected, looking tired and near panic.
"Nicely done." Corellon remarked, looking up. He was sitting cross-legged on the ground, holding his head. "We've lost, Tempest. Mormo has returned."
"What do you mean, we've lost?" Tempest demanded. "So she's returned. Every god is here, and we've got the greater force. Can't we hit her now and dispel her?"
"It doesn't work that way." Heironeous replied, casting another mass healing spell, looking worn. "We'd need a fresh force… and fresh avatars. The consortium of light gods is spent, and our army is as well."
"Too bad for you." Remarked a dark, snarling voice, and everyone looked up. A black knight stood there, arms crossed, scowling at the gathered light forces. "Evening, Heironeous." He added.
"Hextor. What do you want?" Was the tight reply, Heironeous stepping forward, hand on the hilt of his sword.
"Just to congratulate you on a wonderful attempt." Hextor cackled. "And to say goodbye, because all your army is going to die."
"When did I say I was going to do that?" Asked a creaky, evil voice, and a crone walked up, leaning on a cane, squinting at Hextor as if reprimanding him.
"We have a deal, Mormo." He snarled in reply.
"And you were fool enough to believe I'd follow it." She snorted. He snarled and drew his sword, moving to attack, and was blown back several hundred meters. Even from that distance, the gathered light forces could tell that the impact had killed the avatar.
"He may be against me, but he's still my brother." Heironeous snarled, drawing his sword.
"Ah, ah." Mormo grinned. "He was fresh, ready to fight. You're exhausted. What makes you think you have a better chance?"
"Maybe he doesn't, Mormo. But I do." Said a very low, angry voice. Standing not far away, still riding his black unicorn, was the Jack of Tears. His armor was soaked in blood, but rage still ran wild in his eyes, hands tightening into fists as he gazed at the titan.
"You?" She threw back her head and cackled. "YOU? A mere mortal?"
The Jack directed his unicorn so he stood between the light forces and Mormo, drawing his sword again. "For the love of your gods, run." He hissed over his shoulder, looking at Heironeous. "This is not a fight you can win!" And with that, he charged directly at Mormo.
Halfway to her, the ground jumped and cracked, and the unicorn fell, screaming. The mountain rolled, the most devastating earthquake ever seen thumping the mountain, causing huge avalanches, caving in the trenches, burying people alive. The gods grabbed their followers and teleported out, desperate to keep their people alive, but were left with the afterimage of a power explosion, dark magic hitting dark magic.
The offensive forces appeared beside the defensive forces, and the gods gathered, watching in stupefied horror as the entire mountain broke in two, sheering off. The noise was deafening. Adding to it was the black lightning that was exploding across the shattered mountain, agony and torment given form. A horrifying scream filled the air, echoing to the world, and the mountain fell still, silence falling at last.
"What just happened?" An orc wanted to know, rubbing his chin and staring at the ruined peak.
"I don't think anyone here knows." Said Pelor in a very, very tired voice.
"Does anyone know what happened to the forces from the Bayou?" Fox asked, elbowing his way through the crowd, holding his side. He had taken an impact during the last fight, and it now hurt to breathe, but as near as he could tell the wound was far from mortal.
"I don't think they got off the mountain." Heironeous finally said, and looked around. "Does anyone feel Mormo's presence?"
"She's dead." Said Saint Cuthburt slowly. "Gone."
There was another long silence, then Pelor clapped his hands together, getting everyone's attention. "Reestablish camp! Tend the wounded! Those still able to search gather at the front gate!" He shouted, and the tired, aching army moved out, limping back to camp.
Fox sighed, standing near the front of the hospital tent, waiting for his group to gather. Most of his friends had had minor injuries or had yet to report in from the field. While the war was won, at least according to the gods, the losses were still being speculated on. What mattered, though, was that the greater majority of the light forces were alive. There were, however, a massive amount of injuries incurred, and every magic user that knew healing spells had been called to the hospital tent.
Fara, who had just arrived and was looking around, saw Fox almost instantly. "Fox! Thank god you're all right!" Fara leapt up and almost tackled him to the ground, wrapping her arms tight around him and burying her face in his chest.
"You're crushing my cracked ribs, dear." Fox grunted, but returned the hold. "Yes, I'm all right. Bruised and bandaged, but I'll live. Our healers are just about burned out, though…" He sighed, staring out over the battlefield. The valley and mountain were completely ripped apart, stained with blood, littered with bodies. Those able to were still patrolling the battlefield for survivors of either side. "What are the losses? No one I've talked to knows."
"About twenty percent for us." Said Slippy, limping up. He was missing his handgun and looked exhausted, but was otherwise whole. "About ninety-five for them. The defensive line tore them apart, and their defenses were completely wiped out." He shook his head. "Mostly Denev's doing, when she gathered what was left of her strength and shook the mountain. The avalanches caused by that must have wiped out half their forces in one swoop."
"Speaking of which, has anyone heard of Denev since then?" Peppy asked, walking up with Falco in tow. Falco looked bloodied and burned, but was grinning ear to ear to himself.
"No, not that I've heard." Said Fara. "But most of the gods have been busy, trying to pull what's left of their forces together, get people healed."
"Denev isn't a god." Fox shook his head, looking around as his group gathered together slowly. They were standing just outside the hospital tent in the camp, watching the river of people pass by. Injured people were still being brought in, and wizards that burned out were carried out to rest. Twenty percent may have died, but a lot more were injured, and it was taxing every healer available. "It seems that we're all here… where's Alan?"
"Haven't seen him recently." Katt said, leaning into Falco, weak from magic use. "You don't suppose…?"
"I don't suppose anything could kill him." Said Bill gently. "We'll just have to wait…"
"Not long it seems." Tempest interrupted. "There he is, with Sashima close behind… who's he carrying?"
"Oh, gods, that's the Jack!" Peppy blurted.
Alan was striding toward the entrance of the hospital tent, cradling the body of his leader as if the Jack weighed nothing. Blood ran down his arms and made a trail behind him, but he didn't seem to notice, focused on getting his leader to a healer. Sashima strode ahead when they got closer to the hospital tent, tossing people out of the way forcefully.
"Alan!" Fox called, meeting him. Alan stopped and gave Fox a blank look, swaying, standing long enough that Fox could take stock of the Jack.
The Jack of Tears was still breathing, but he had no real right to be alive. His arms were clutched over his stomach, and near as Fox could tell, that was the only thing keeping his vitals in place. Behind him, he heard Falco gag quietly, and the others seemed similarly sickened.
"He struck the finishing blow. He destroyed Mormo by himself." Said Alan, still swaying. "But the backlash…" Alan elbowed by, entering the tent. "Somebody help!" He shouted, voice pitched to a desperate screech. A few nearby Elven healers, sitting and resting, promptly surged to their feet the moment the moment they saw the Jack. Fox and the others followed as the Jack was taken over to a medical table and laid out on it. The Jack suddenly came to coherency, letting out a thin screech of pain and curling up on his side, shoulders jerking.
"How is he still alive?" Peppy whispered.
"Sheer force of will." Bendel appeared beside them and made his way forward, helping the healers.
"NO!"
The healers were thrown back, some getting hit so strongly they went across and through the tent walls. The Jack sat up, screeching again, then collapsed, eyes wild with pain. Bendel, who had managed to stand his ground, tried to make the Jack relax, pushing the elf's shoulders down to the table. "Momus! Relax! You're killing yourself!" He shouted, obviously struggling to hold the Jack down. He glanced at Fox's group helplessly, and they gathered around, trying to help restrain their injured friend.
"No. Don't bother…" The Jack gasped, shaking, curling up again. "Nothing can stop it now. Mormo made sure that if she was going to die, I would die with her, and healing magic will only slow it."
"But…" Alan started.
"Shut it, bard." A painful smile curled Momus' lips. "It's about damn time I got to die. I've been laughing in the face of it for ages, denying it the delight of taking me. Besides, I lost my soul a very long time ago." He tried to focus on the others, but it was clear he couldn't see well anymore. "The Baron Mirth is still alive. Find him. Right now."
That order rumbled through the entire tent, and a few messengers took off instantly, realizing that while the Jack was dying, he was more still then willing to kill those who angered him. There was a long silence during which the healers slowly and cautiously returned to the table, staring at the Jack, who just scowled at them.
"At least let us try to stop the pain…" One started.
"No point." The Jack snapped. "You want to be useful, make a path so that Mirth can get here. I don't have much time. I've lost too much blood."
"You care to be technical, you shouldn't have any time." Bendel said, amused. "You shouldn't have any blood left. At all."
He looked down at himself, and grinned in his usual twisted way. "I've never claimed to be normal, have I?"
The next ten minutes were hell for all concerned. The Jack very rapidly weakened, but he still felt inclined to throw the healers across the tent when they attempted to perform magic on him. His refusal of all healing magic pretty much meant that all waiting were made helpless, but when Peppy tried to be sympathetic, he joined the healers in being thrown through the nearest tent wall. The Jack apologized, and everyone shut up after that.
The Baron eventually arrived, towering over those around him as he elbowed through the noisy hospital crowd. "I'm sorry it took me so long, I was helping search for survivors." He said briskly, then came to an abrupt halt when he saw how hurt and weak the Jack was. "Oh, my Lord, what has been done to you…?"
"Mormo." The Jack grimaced. "And you could have hurried…"
"I did." The Baron looked at the pack of cringing healers. "Have you been refusing healing? Why?"
"Because I'm dying, and nothing can stop it." The Jack spat out blood. Sashima, who had perched on the edge of the table, took his hand automatically. He looked at her in surprise, but accepted the comfort. "I asked for you because when word reaches my Bayou of my death, chaos will ensue. Lord Quick will try to take over, Queen Ran will defect, the Demoiselle will go reclusive, and you'll be forced to start military rule."
"That sounds about right." The Baron agreed, carefully not showing any emotion, but his hands were curled into fists, nails pressing hard enough he was drawing blood.
"… Unless I declare a successor, and make sure there are plenty of viable and believable witnesses." The Jack started choking, rolling on his side. Alan thumped him on the back, and the Jack spat out more blood. Fara winced and hid her face in Fox's shoulder, who automatically wrapped his arms around her. After several moments of heaving gasps, he continued. "That's why I had you brought here."
"My Lord, I…"
"Silence. I'm not passing Foolscap to you, Baron. You're one of the closest things I've had to a best friend, but we both know our motives are different… you're here as a witness." There was a long pause. The Jack's breathing had become shallow, and his eyes were starting to close. After a moment, he jerked himself back awake. "I've known for a long time who I wanted to succeed me."
"None of the current Bayou leaders, I take it." Said the Baron carefully, looking both confused and angry.
"No." There was another pause, then the Jack lifted a hand and wiped at the bloody tears falling from his eyes. "I can't turn, Alan, so come here where I can see you." Once Alan had moved, he focused on the bard. "In a very short time I will depart this miserable rock that astronomers call a planet, and don't you dare cry about it." He said in a slightly severe voice. "Because you're taking over the Bayou."
"WHAT?!" Everyone standing nearby asked. The Baron looked completely dismayed.
"Sir, I, I can't do that." Alan gaped down at his dying leader.
"You can. You will. It took you only a week in the Bayou to become more powerful then I have ever been. But you don't know how to hate. Your heart is full of love and music and mercy." The Jack started to laugh, then went into a spasm of coughing. "I… I did the Bayou… a great wrong. Maybe you can make it right." He finally wheezed out, letting his wand appear in his hand and holding it out to Alan. "I pass Foolscap to you."
Alan numbly took the wand, staring at it, then looking at his leader. "Are you sure?"
"I've been sure since a week after I met you, you insane musician." He laughed weakly, closing his eyes. "Corellon?"
"I'm here." The god stepped forward. Alan backed off so he could have the main spot in front of the dying Jack.
"Where am I going to go?" He coughed, whole body jerking. "I'm an Elf. I'm supposed to go to the Glades… but that was a long time ago…"
"You're still an Elf, Etharan."
"I fell to corruption. I killed without mercy."
"You've redeemed yourself. Your family is waiting for you. Be at peace."
A sad, but true, smile passed over the Jack's face as his eyes fully closed. "Then from the Glades I came, and to them, I return…" He mumbled to himself, and with a final pained convolution, went limp.
Alan was silent for a moment, then hung his head and began to whimper, still holding Foolscap limply in one hand. Sashima slowly let the Jack's hand go and slid off the table, hugging Alan, hiding her tears in his tunic. Everyone standing nearby was silent, stunned by the sudden turn of events.
"Well, since you're now the fearless leader, what do we do now?" Mirth asked Alan sarcastically, anger still coloring his voice. He didn't understand what had possessed his dying leader to declare a bard as his successor, and furthermore didn't believe Alan could possibly be more powerful then the Jack had been.
"We bury him." Was the heavy reply. "Out on the field near the mountain, so he's close to his place of victory." Alan gave Sashima one last squeeze, then picked the Jack's body up effortlessly. "Then we have a wake."
"Naturally, you don't want a silent, dreary funeral."
Alan gave Mirth an amused look. "No, and neither would the Jack."
The next twenty-four hours were a massive wind-down for the entire army. Way-gates were reestablished, and soldiers started to return home as they were able, though the majority of the forces stayed, staying near their god and helping those injured to recover. Eventually, though, camp was broke, and the avatars dissolved, the tired gods returning to heavens until they were needed again.
"Heading home now, I suppose?" Tempest asked Fox, watching the group pack up.
"Heading for my grandfather's." Was the simple reply. "And you should, too."
"What?"
Fox turned to look at him. "My father said to tell you that my grandfather Aust wishes to speak to you, and to me as well. That's fine with me, I'd like to relax, and his city is one of my favorite places to do so."
Tempest blinked. "The whole group going?"
"That's the current plan, except for Alan and Sashima."
"Why would your grandfather want to speak to me?"
"To be honest… I have no idea. But given my father's attitude, I think Corellon has something to do with it." He paused. "I know it's none of my business, but I know that you and Corellon were having some arguments. Were they resolved?"
"I think so."
"Good."
"Tempest!" A small form flew through the air and hit Tempest at chest level.
"Hi, Yipsnarl." Tempest replied, grinning in spite of himself.
"Can I come with you?"
He looked at Fox, who shrugged, wincing as his ribs ached. At least, he thought tiredly, let these wounds heal before my child is born. "I don't personally have any problems with kobolds. As for my grandfather, this is the same man who took in Jordan and a redeemed Wolf O'Donnel. I doubt Yipsnarl will bother him."
Tempest laughed.
"Nothing has changed here, I see." Falco remarked, looking around.
"Not many soldiers were pulled from this city. Corellon opted to use it as a reserve." Fox replied, dismounting, thankful to be back in a peaceful forest, a very long ways away from the battlefield.
"About time you visited us again, Ivellios." Tharivol laughed, exchanging a quick hug and back slap with Fox. "I heard you're just back from that nasty mess with Mormo."
"Yes indeed. How are things here?"
"Same as usual. Larethian have anything interesting to say?"
"Well, not about you in particular…"
"Aw…" Tharivol made a face, then laughed and turned to Tempest. "Well, you're new. I'm Tharivol Holimion. And you are?"
"Himo Galanodel."
Both of Tharivol's eyebrows shot up. "You're a Galanodel? No fooling?"
"Yes indeed, but I prefer to be called Tempest."
"All right, then, I won't argue."
"Wise of you, Tharivol." Said Aust, striding up, grinning. "You don't visit often enough, grandson."
"I enjoy my privacy." Fox replied, grinning back.
"Perhaps too much, as your father remarked to me I should expect to see grandchildren sometime soon." He laughed when Fox ducked his head and blushed. "Oh, relax." He turned to the entire group. "Well, you're welcome here as usual. Glad to have you here actually, even if we were on standby for a while, we need the break from the monotony."
"Visit my tavern, I guarantee it'll break the monotony." Falco offered.
"Perhaps I will sometime in the future." Was the easy reply. "Well, I hope no one minds if I borrow Tempest and Fox for a short time."
"Just return him in one piece." Fara replied.
"I will."
"So what is this all about?" Tempest asked, leaning on the railing and staring out across the Elven village, dull pain going through him. This place was a lot like his home was, before it was destroyed.
"Basically, Corellon had a word with my son, who stopped by and had a word with me. Almost gave me a heart attack of course, but it was good to see him." He smiled sadly. "What it boils down to is the fact that you, Tempest, are the last living Giannodel. Correct?"
"… Correct."
"I'm not meaning to cause you any pain. But it's got to be hard, having no living family, so… I was wondering if you'd like to join the Siannodels."
"WHAT?" Fox and Tempest said at the same time.
"You heard me. I adopt you on as another grandson, allowing you a chance to rebuild your name and giving you allies in my family." Aust crossed his arms and gazed at both, looking smug. "You keep your name of course. But everyone needs a family of some sort."
"You're asking to adopt me… now wait a minute…"
"Yes, that would make you and Fox adopted brothers. I'm sure you could work it out."
Tempest was quiet for a long moment, staring out at the city, then slowly smiled. "I think I'd like that. I mean, if you agree with it, Fox."
"I don't see why I shouldn't." Fox finally said, smiling a bit. "I've never had a brother. Might be nice to have one, even if it's just adoption."
"I'm not sure what my parents would say, though…"
"Your parents approve one hundred percent. Or so said my son." Aust replied.
After another long moment, Tempest grinned. "All right then. I suppose you have another grandson then."
"I'm glad. I'm very glad."