Legacy Chapter 16: The Pure of Heart, a dungeons and dragons fanfic

Disclaimer: Since its development in 1983, the animated series Dungeons and Dragons has belonged to the following at some point: Marvel Productions, TSR, Inc., Wizards of the Coast, Saban Entertainment, (according to rumor) Disney, and possibly even others. I guess my point is, it does not (nor has it ever) belonged to me. Oh, well! This story, however, does! I hope you enjoy it!

Rating: PG-13 for some language and violent elements

Forward: Well, I never thought I'd get here, but after almost two solid years of posting, I finally submit to you, the second-to-last chapter of Legacy! Wow, one more left (and perhaps an epilogue) and it'll all be over. Thanks to everyone for the reviews, emails, and/or random words of encouragement. I've appreciated it so much, and have had such a terrific time with this story! Hope you enjoy what's left!

Special Thanks: To my fantabulous betas, of course! To Heidi, who's always eager to help no matter how many times I send her the same chapter of this thing; to EQ for being the best sounding board I know and overall grammar whiz; to Mistri, Cho's Observer who is tremendously loyal and honest when it comes to feedback and ideas; and to Kimmy the best fanfic webmistress of all, whose opinion and attention to detail I value supremely. (Uni thanks you! *G*)

Couldn't have done it without all of your help! Thanks!

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LEGACY

Chapter 16 -- The Pure of Heart

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"Beware the Great Enchanter . . . . His thoughts are cold;
his soul, shriveled. His eyes are like little machines.
And where he walks the earth is blighted . . . ."

~ Don Quijote

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Eons ago a vicious bargain was struck. An ambitious and impetuous youth disregarded all that was given to him by the Dungeon Master, his father and teacher, choosing instead to follow a Master of supreme evil. In return for the power to dominate the Realm, the brash youth surrendered his humanity, his goodness, and his very soul.

He vowed to bring down the Dungeon Master and control the Realm entirely. His virtuous spirit was locked away in a great cenotaph at the very edge of the land and he girded his power toward the destruction of his former teacher as well as the complete dominion of the Realm.

And he took the name of Venger.

As a result, a creature of ultimate evil, a creature without name, Venger's new Master, would rule the land, wreaking terror and destruction through His indomitable protégé . . . and the Dungeon Master would be powerless to stop it.

The plan was flawless and vicious. After all, no matter what his loyalty to the Realm, Dungeon Master would never destroy his own son to protect it. It seemed that no power in this world would be enough to stop the Nameless One's conquest.

He had not, however, counted on the power of six children from another world: Six Young Ones who were pure of heart.

Now, centuries after his redemption at the hands of Dungeon Master's young pupils, the man once known as Venger again beheld the approach of his former Master. The collection of black clouds grew darker and thicker, billowing and swirling in the sudden driving winds that churned the air. Flashes of lightning ignited at the point where the earth met the sky in the distance, sparking over and over until a vast column of light erupted from the horizon and began to move steadily forward.

The darkened skies were suddenly aglow with an horrific gleam from the glowing pillar. A white inferno of blinding light was encased in a swirling sheath of bile-colored smoke and flame. The entire column was caged by shooting beams of lightning, crackling in the clouds above and charging the ground below as the entire monstrosity moved forward, leaving behind it a path of molten nothingness.

The only sound lingering in the air was the violent shriek of electric magic mingled with the snarl of some otherworldly beast. A sound that grew ever nearer as the creature approached.

The apocalyptic vision advanced, just as it had during Venger's first encounter with He Whose Name Can Not Be Spoken. But this time, no bargains were going to be made, no deals struck, no souls sold. The Nameless One did not desire a witless and imprudent minion to control the Realm for Him. He wanted only revenge on those who had prevented His onslaught the last time.

But, once again, another world had lent its soldiers. And they weren't going down without a fight.

Venger stood sentient, watching the approaching creature; his former Master. At his side, not six, but eleven stouthearted outworlders, ready to defend the Realm that had shaped their lives, for better or worse, to the last. The new Dungeon Master grinned defiantly.

"The time has come, Evil One," he said. "Whatever the outcome, only one shall stand in this Realm today!"

* * *

"Teri, get him up!" Hank shouted over the din of the approaching static snarls. He rose to his feet and readied his bow. The other Young Ones followed suit, holding their weapons at the ready.

The Dreamer patted desperately at Bobby's cheek, trying to rouse him. "Come on, Bobby!" she pleaded. "We need you now!"

Turning to where Teri still knelt at Bobby's side, with his hand already searching through his hat, Presto muttered a spell:

"We need to beat the nameless creep,
and it sure would help if Bobby weren't asleep!" he hinted urgently.

The Magician's fingers wrapped around a thick metallic object and pulled it from the hat. In answer to his query, Presto's weapon had produced a simple round-faced alarm clock.

Presto gave the object in his hand a crestfallen stare. He glanced back over his shoulder to see that the Nameless One had grown even closer. With a nervous yelp, the Magician quickly redirected his attention to the clock as he hurriedly wound it and set the alarm, pointing it in the direction of the unconscious Barbarian. Here goes nothing!

"Okay, Bobby," he urged, "time to get up!"

The sharp tinny bell rang long and loud, but that wasn't the only thing to draw the attention of the others. As the alarm sounded through the valley, out of the clock, where the hands met in the center, shot a thin stream of cold water, dousing the Barbarian's face.

Bobby finally opened his eyes, sputtering, his arms flailing.

"Is that the type of gag gadgets that all the professional hospital magicians are sporting nowadays?" Eric jibed.

Presto chuckled nervously, looking down on the Barbarian as Bobby lifted a groggy hand to brush his sodden bangs out of his eyes.

"Heh," Presto muttered, "sorry!"

"I guess I deserved that," Bobby groaned while trying to raise himself off the ground.

"Hate to wake you, Sleeping Beauty," Eric called over his shoulder as Bobby struggled to his knees, "but we've kinda got a situation here!"

Bobby climbed unsteadily to his feet with the help of Teri and Sheila. He felt Uni nuzzle him into an upright position from behind and he turned to her. With a grim smile for his oldest and dearest friend, he gently stroked down the bridge of her nose before turning to face the approaching monster. Bobby grabbed his club from the ground at his side and leaned against its handle for a moment.

"Are you all right?" Teri whispered to him.

"This has got to be the worst spring break I've ever had!" the Barbarian groaned, a bit more reminiscent of his old self. He pressed the heel of his palm against one of his eyes and screwed up his face in an attempt to shake the daze out of his head. "I'll be happy when baseball season is back in full swing! No pun intended." He blinked his eyes open and tilted his head to grin wearily at Teri before turning to face the advancing tower of smoke and flame. "Stay by me," he ordered, regaining some of his seriousness.

Bobby swung his club upward from the ground and held it poised above his shoulder.

Teri gripped his arm tightly, not only to steady him, but also from the nervous fear that flooded her entire body at the sight of the creature in the distance. Bobby had told her so often about the Nameless One upon his return from the Realm, Teri imagined that she would be prepared for seeing Him.

Nothing, however, could have primed her for the appearance of this monstrosity; this vile creature that bore down upon them, leaving nothing in His path but ash and waste. How could they ever expect to defeat Him? The Dreamer could hear Uni anxiously thumping the ground as she shied back from the approaching light. Teri imagined her heart must also sound like the unicorn's frantic dance and she shuddered in terror at Bobby's side.

John Montgomery trembled uncontrollably at the sight of the towering column of dreadful magic. "Wh-What is it?" he managed in a wavering squeak.

"His name is not for your ears, Squire," Venger intoned familiarly. "He has countless titles. But, to all, He is known as 'Evil.'"

"Evil, No-Name, Apocalypse, Old Sparky-- I don't care what you call Him! I just want to call Him gone!" Eric shouted back at Venger. He drew closer to his son. The lashing wind whipped his raven hair in and out of his line of vision, but Eric never took his eyes off the nearing tower of light. "How do we get rid of that thing for good?"

A wild shriek from the air above interrupted any answer that could have been given to the Cavalier. Three dark creatures soared out of the sky, two on horseback and one encased within an azure sphere. They spiraled around the column of the Nameless One and headed to the ground directly in front of Venger and the others. Landing between their Master and the group of assembled Young Ones, Mordreth, Bane and Kadysse paused, glaring viciously at their enemies.

Behind them, the approaching Nameless One suddenly stopped, although the bestial snarling that He emitted continued to echo through Tardos Valley.

Presto shifted his vision nervously from the evil triad on the ground to the towering pillar of light behind them. He felt as though he and his friends were on display. The three forces of evil were just waiting there, and the thought that he and the others hadn't been attacked yet made Presto very uneasy.

"Wh-What's He doing?" the Magician asked, directing his voice back at Venger but not daring to look anywhere other than straight ahead, fearing that something might happen if he did.

Venger seemed similarly perplexed. "He is . . . watching," the former Archmage finally answered.

"Well then," Diana added as she extended her staff to full length and struck a battle-ready stance, "let's give Him an eyeful!"

Each of the Young Ones' weapons glowed as they raised them for combat, causing a melodious hum to fill the air around them. If they had to confront these three forces of evil one last time before finally facing He Whose Name Can Not Be Spoken, then they would do so. But this time, they would do it together.

Hank stretched his arm across the arc of his gilded recurve bow, then pulled it steadily back. The flaming bowstring and fiery arrow appeared in his three-fingered grip, leveled at the threesome straight ahead. Sheila's hands tightly clasped the hood of her magical cloak and the entire violet cloth shimmered, poised for use.

Ayesha still looked weary and drained, as she had ever since reappearing outside Tardos Keep with Teri. She still managed to draw her sword hilt from her belt and grip it double-fisted, sending the burning blade stretching upward. She narrowed her eyes as the golden saber's light shone upon her pale freckled face.

Diana's extended javelin burned with a fierce jade light as she gripped it tighter, drawing it closer to her body and readying it to spring into instant action. Toby, at her side, released his whip from its coil with a swift flick of his wrist. It puddled into a leather pile on the ground for a moment before the Fighter drew his arm quickly up and down, causing a booming crack to fill the canyon that surrounded them. He then held it, glowing and ready.

With a glance at his son, Eric brought up his shield. He looked out over its upper rim at the many threats that stood before them as the weapon emitted a familiar silver glow. John clenched his fists tightly, wishing that he had something more to hold onto. He picked nervously at the skin around his fingernails as his crested medallion pulsed at his throat.

Presto straightened as tall as his aching side would allow, gripping his hat tightly with one hand as the fingers of the other twitched anxiously above its glowing opening. Varla locked her legs at shoulder-width and held her twig-like wand in front of her face, hands trembling. She risked a moment to close her eyes and offer up a silent prayer, as well as a word to her father, unsure as to whether he would hear her, but needing to do it all the same. I love you, Daddy. Presto smiled lightly.

Bobby seized his club firmly with both hands, triggering the humming glow that always seemed to accompany the use of his weapon. He brought the club close to his left shoulder as Teri gravitated to his other side. Although she had no weapon, her fingers found the shimmering necklace that was now, once again, surrounding her throat. It seemed to offer its own power through her fingers as she clutched it tighter.

Bobby tilted his head slightly until his eyes encountered those of Kadysse. The evil woman no longer showed any sign of her typical playful venom. No goading smile, no rapturous façade. Her windblown hair was a spray of blood against the sickly darkness of the Nameless One behind her. Her face was a mask of intense hatred, and she met the Barbarian's frigid glare with eyes that were like stone.

Venger stood staunchly behind the Young Ones – no longer the vicious and power-hungry force of evil, but instead the new Dungeon Master of the Realm. It had been more than two hundred years since accepting his father's role as protector of this land, and now his true test had come. As he towered over the Young Ones in front of him, regarding the newest threats to his world, he maintained his regal appearance. His ebony cloak snapped crisply behind him in the driving winds and his billowing black and gray garments still seemed regal, even in the dusky gloom that surrounded them. He raised his hands, never removing his sight from the looming pillar of his former Master, and his palms, along with the crystal amulet affixed to his cloak, began to glow with a fierce ruby light.

He focused his attention on the Nameless One's newest minions and stood ready to join his young friends, side-by-side, fighting to protect the Realm. The group of twelve waited for the three evil creatures to make the first move . . . .

But they didn't.

In fact, the first move was quite unexpected. The Young Ones seemed to be in a standoff between themselves and the three new threats, neither group budging as they stared each other down. The eleven humans concentrated so intensely on the three creatures directly in front of them, that they were caught completely off guard when John suddenly cried out, "Hey, you guys! That – that thing's moving again!"

The Young Ones were abruptly startled out of their altercation. They had expected their first battle to be with Kadysse, Mordreth, and Bane. It came as a shock when, just as John had said, the Nameless One, Himself, began advancing on them instead. The group of humans and Venger began backing awkwardly away from the approaching column of putrid fire.

Kadysse and the other forces of evil, however, remained stationary as He Without Name came at them from behind.

"No," Venger breathed as the Evil One came close to enveloping His three minions.

"What?" Hank demanded, keeping his arrow leveled straight ahead. "What is it?"

Venger didn't answer the Ranger right away. Instead, the group watched as the Nameless One came to tower over the backs of His servants. Bobby could swear that he saw Kadysse flash him a cold and venomous sneer just as the pillar of swirling evil swallowed them completely.

For an instant, only the black silhouettes of the three forces of evil could be seen, trapped within the swirling column of light and fire as the Nameless One came to a rest over the place where they had been standing. Then each figure seemed to dissolve into its own individual vapor of shadow, their incorporeal forms swirling into the cyclone that made up the body of He Without Name. The unsubstantial faces of each creature were briefly visible, spiraling along the outer edge of the column of magic – the serpentine image of Bane, the skeletal bearing of Mordreth, and finally, the vicious beauty of Kadysse haloed in the blood red of her hair – fanged, distorted, spectral images which screamed toward the apex of the nameless pillar and exploded there in a burst of blinding light.

Bobby shielded his eyes. For a split second, he could hear the bestial shriek of the Nameless One joined by what he thought was the sound of Kadysse's vicious laughter. Then it vanished, just as her body had; lost in the tempest that ripped through the valley.

The Mistress of War, the Lord of Destruction, and the Lord of the Plague were gone.

"What the hell just happened?" the Barbarian yelled to the others.

"Venger!" Hank finally succeeded at getting the Dungeon Master's attention and the sovereign mage glanced down to face the others.

"He has done it," Venger replied. "The Nameless One's final gambit. I had not expected this."

"What do you mean?" Diana shouted over the increasing noise of the approaching beast as He Whose Name Can Not Be Spoken began moving again.

"He has called His minions to rejoin Him physically," the Dungeon Master explained through the hammering torrential winds. "Their sacrifice will increase His power, replenish that which was lost in creating them. He seeks to gain an advantage and overpower us that way. Quickly, my pupils! There is no time to lose! Make a pile of your weapons and stand by me!"

The Young Ones did as they were told and formed a cluster beside Venger, looking outward at the approaching nameless creature. Even Teri cast her pendant onto the mound. The new Dungeon Master spread his hands over the glowing weapons heaped on the ground, creating an energetic surge of power that linked them to his palms. The electric magic grew from the Weapons of Power as He Without Name drew nearer.

Suddenly, when He was no more than one hundred yards away, the creature stopped; pausing, waiting, and watching. Eric gulped hard, remembering all too well what had happened the last time they had faced this thing. The Nameless One had paused, just as He was doing right now, almost seeming to revel in the sight of His victims far below as they tried desperately to save themselves. Then, inevitably, the swirling clouds would part like a great curtain, revealing a demonic face that was as unspeakably evil as the creature's name. It had happened before, and now history seemed to be repeating itself.

"Dad?" John whimpered at Eric's side. The Cavalier glanced down at his son, shifting his gaze from the boy, to the creature above them, to the magic that Venger was formulating to counter the attack that would soon be upon them.

"Don't look," Eric muttered, and the young Squire buried himself into his father's side. The Cavalier, however terrified, just as before, was strangely unable to tear his eyes away from the spot where the Nameless One's face would emerge as soon as the mantle of clouds split.

The sliver of time in which the Nameless One actually paused felt like an eternity to the huddled Young Ones down below, and as the heavens finally divided to reveal the heathen monster, the world sped up again and the Young Ones found themselves under siege from a missile of fire blasted from the creature's blazing mouth.

Venger clenched his fists tightly, summoning the power of the weapons to join with his own. As the silvery combustion surrounded the magical items heaped upon the ground, it shot a finger of energy to meet with the Nameless One's onslaught. The two forces collided in midair, and remained battling there for a few eternal moments. Then the power of the evil creature began forcing the Dungeon Master's counterattack back in the direction of the earth.

"He is too powerful!" Venger grunted as he tried desperately to force the weapons' power back toward the sky. The Young Ones could only watch helplessly as the destructive energy drew inexorably nearer, held back only by the thin spear of light that shot skyward out of their weapons.

"B-But this has got to work, right?!?" Eric insisted in a desperate wail.

"What more can we do?" Sheila asked, looking pleadingly at Hank.

The Ranger nearly sped toward the pile of weapons, tempted to grab his bow and unleash as many arrows as he could at the creature above before the descending magic engulfed them all. But removing his weapon would mean less energy with which the Dungeon Master could repel the attack, and possibly less time for them all to remain alive.

But this is the same thing that happened last time! he thought frantically. We have more power now! More weapons! More people! Why isn't it working?!?

One look at the Ranger's bleak expression and Venger's visibly fading strength, and the other Young Ones began to realize what would happen. He Whose Name Can Not Be Spoken would soon overtake the power of their weapons. And they would be destroyed in an explosion of fire.

Or they could run; escape again using what little power the Dungeon Master had left. But the original Young Ones also knew that, this time, hiding in the Underworld wouldn't save them from the Nameless One. This time, He would follow them to its very depths . . . just as He would have followed them home. The group of friends grew closer together as the wave of hopelessness began crashing against them.

"This is nuts! There's got to be something else we can try!" Eric cried again, denial still eating away at his realistic mind. He rounded on the struggling Venger. "I mean, you brought us all this way! We decided to stay and fight! And we haven't done a damn thing!! We have to . . . ! There's got to be . . . !" The Cavalier turned back toward the Nameless One with an infuriated scream of petrified frustration.

Sheila suddenly felt a firm hand on her shoulder. She turned with tear-filled eyes to look at her husband. The Ranger was serious, but also seemed calmer somehow. A strange, sad smile suddenly budded across his lips. Sheila was bewildered. How could he smile at a time like this?

Hank took in the sight of his wife standing in the surrounding gale, wayward strands of red hair whisking turbulently about her face. He didn't remember the last time she had looked so beautiful. His vision shifted to where his young daughter stood. Ayesha had made him prouder than he'd even thought possible. He looked at both of them for a moment, two women who meant more to him than anything in the world, then said the only thing he could that would sum up everything he held in his heart.

"I love you both."

It was not a concession, nor an admission of defeat, but the Ranger didn't want to leave anything unsaid . . . no matter how this ended. He caught them both in a fierce embrace.

Bobby turned to Teri, spurred by Hank's actions. Before he could even say anything, the Dreamer smiled up at him. "I know," she muttered and they wrapped their arms around each other and fixed their eyes on the ongoing struggle of magic above their heads.

Presto smoothed Varla's hair and looked down at her sadly. "I'm so sorry," he said. The girl shot him a quizzical look. Sorrow. That, she had not been able to read in him. Love, yes. But why was he sorry? "If you hadn't come to live with us, you would never be involved in all this," the Magician said ruefully. "You would have had so much life ahead of you."

Varla threw her arms around her adopted father, tears falling from her eyes as she buried her face into his chest. "If I hadn't come to live with you, on the inside, I wouldn't have been alive at all!"

Presto breathed a heavy sigh and hugged the girl tighter, any pain that it caused in his ribcage did not seem to register in his mind.

Bobby glanced over from nearby, once again astonished at the maturity of the young Mystic's words. He smiled grimly as he held Teri.

Diana reached out to her right, uncurling fingers that had been painfully clenched into a tight fist as she reached for Toby. Her fingers lightly touched his skin, then made a desperate scramble to gather her nephew's hand in hers. They held on for a moment, seemingly for dear life, before turning their heads to look at each other. The Acrobat met the Fighter's eyes and mouthed the words "Love you" to the boy at her side.

Toby returned with a brave smile. "You, too, Aunt Di," he said quietly.

Eric kept his hold on John as the boy trembled against him. The exchanges among each of his friends had lasted no more than a few seconds, but it was enough to get the Cavalier's blood boiling -- as it often did whenever the others showed signs of defeat. As it had the time they were left without a leader when the Darkling had kidnapped Hank. As it had when they found themselves trapped, weaponless, in a jail cell in that village near the Swamps of Darkness. "We're giant-sized!" he had told Diana at the time. And if there was one thing this Realm had taught him, it was that he had been right about that.

The Cavalier refocused his vision on the dueling lights in the sky: the hail of fire that spewed from the Nameless One's mouth and the shaft of silver energy rising out of their weapons to protect them. Venger's beam was shrinking back, but the new Dungeon Master was still fighting on. Suddenly a different light caught Eric's eye, causing him to look down at his son. At the boy's side, somewhat hidden by the baggy tabard that he wore, was a dull sort of white luminescence. The Cavalier quickly extended his arms, pulling John with them as he searched for the source of the glow. Holding the boy at arm's length, his eyes fell upon a mild shimmering in the scabbard of the Squire's belt.

Looks like it's decided to make an appearance, after all, Eric thought ironically as he released John's shoulders. He held out his open hand to the boy.

John looked puzzled for a moment before noticing the light, himself. Then he blanched to a ghostly pale, shaking his head furiously as he looked, wide-eyed, back up at the Cavalier. He didn't know what his father had in mind, but something told him that he didn't want Eric to have that sword right now. Any words of protest, however, couldn't seem to squeeze their way past his heart, which seemed to have risen into the tight quarters of his throat.

Eric's outstretched hand became more demanding. "Come on, Squire," he said firmly, "I can't get it without you. And I don't think the silly thing would be showing up right now if it couldn't be of some use!" He held a stern glare on the boy until John finally, shakily, lowered his hand to the holster at his waist.

His fingers wrapped around a space in the air just above the sheath and he drew his arm back, producing a long silver sword which appeared as it cleared the scabbard. The Squire drew the heavy blade up and clutched it against him for a moment. He looked at it, the gleaming hoary weapon that looked like a shard of moonlight in his hands, then into the eyes of his father, who looked back with an insistent glower. John saw rather than felt his arms move, stiffly and against his own volition, to hold the blade out to Eric, who grabbed it quickly and unceremoniously as he spun around to face the others.

Hank was the most surprised at the sight of the new addition. Or, rather, the sight of the Cavalier gripping a silver broadsword as though he had wielded it all along. "Eric?" he asked, "where did you--?"

"From my Squire, where'd you think?" Eric cut him off before the Ranger could finish his question. He looked around, trying to decide the best way to use the weapon which had just appeared and his fist tightened around the hilt. Perhaps upon the pile with the others was the most logical choice. . . .

Eric inched toward the energized heap, unsure if he really ought to cast the sword in. He knew the blade had the ability to capture and redirect a blast of magic back toward the assailant. That type of counterattack would prove useful right now. But he wasn't sure if throwing it amongst the other weapons would be enough.

Perhaps it would have to sustain a direct hit before it would work.

Or maybe someone actually had to be holding it.

He stood next to the pile of weapons, undecided, raising a defensive arm up to ward off the charge of the struggling magic beside him.

"Wait!" Hank shouted suddenly, stopping Eric in his tracks. "Hold on for a second and listen, everyone!" he said as he stepped away from Sheila and Ayesha. "Hasn't anyone wondered why we're here?"

"Oh, wait, I know this one," Eric mused irreverently, his actions edgy as he stood beside the weapons. "To redeem Venger! -- No, sorry, -- that was the last time you asked that question!"

"I'm serious, Eric!" Hank countered.

"So am I!" the Cavalier returned over the roar of the gale. "And since it's probably too late to start coaching old No-Name on the benefits of oral hygiene, I'd say we're here to save the Realm!" he added in an sardonic tone, gripping the sword impatiently.

"And our own world," Sheila added with more seriousness.

"Yeah," Hank agreed, "but I mean 'we'! Us! Why are we here?" The Ranger indicated Venger, whose power was slackening under the Evil One's assault. "There's something really familiar about all this! Doesn't anyone else see it?"

Diana met Hank's eyes. "Venger can't stop Him any more than the old Dungeon Master could," she said. "It's happening the same as it did last time."

"Exactly!" the Ranger confirmed. "Think about it! Why would it do any good for us to stay here in the Realm if Venger was just going to use our weapons to defeat the Nameless One? He could have done that with or without us! No. There's something more to winning this! Something that we have to do!"

"You're right, Hank!" Presto interjected. "If we're here, we should actually be a part of this! Otherwise history is just repeating itself!"

"So what can we do?" Bobby shouted over the clamor of clashing magic.

"Remember what Venger said when we first arrived?" Sheila called out to all of them. "The evil that we're facing requires an even greater force of good to counter it!"

"But how are we supposed to do that?" Toby hollered. "We don't have magic like Venger does!"

But no one could voice an answer.

Eric clutched the hilt of his sword even tighter, his thumb grazing over the milky-white moonstone set into the guard. It was the first time he had really taken a good look at it. He looked from the gleaming silver blade, to the pile of weapons, to the others.

And he remembered something.

Something he had been told not long ago.

A riddle.

And just like all the riddles they had been given throughout their time here, it sprung to mind at a moment of hopelessness, a moment when they needed it. The strange thing about it, though, was that it came from a source that Eric had never associated with the Realm – something that Cassie Masterson had told him the night before they returned here: The words of the mouth often mask the truths of the heart.

For some unexplainable reason, Eric the Cavalier knew that what Toby said was wrong. That they did have some magic. They had to. And that in their hearts, they all knew it.

Although what they needed to do about it was still unclear, for the moment, just knowing that something could be done was enough to give Eric some kind of hope. He fully faced the others.

"You know what?" he announced over the surrounding din, "We've got to have a power that's got nothing to do with these weapons! And I think the new DM, here, knows that better than anyone!" He eyed the struggling Venger with a sideways glance. "Especially based on how many times he's stolen them away from us!"

"And we still always managed to beat him!" Bobby affirmed.

"Remember!" Eric continued as he surveyed his friends. "He said that was why we were brought here in the first place. It was also why we were brought back again this time. And," he added with a glance at John, "it's why our kids are here, too. We're here because there has to be something that we can do!"

"Yeah, but what?" Bobby demanded, taking his eyes off his friends to focus on the attacking creature above.

The Cavalier's mouth suddenly widened into a huge grin. "I remember saying once that we're giant-sized," he said with an air of confidence. "I think it's time Mr. No-Name up there learned that for himself!" And he turned, sword in hand, and took a deliberate stride toward the towering column of vicious light.

In an instant, Eric could feel a hand clamp tightly around his wrist. "Eric!" Diana's voice shouted. "What are you doing!?"

The Cavalier turned his head down toward her. The young woman's brown eyes were demanding and panic-wide. A familiar smirk curled a corner of Eric's mouth. "Bein' stupid," he answered plainly. "What else?" His face softened almost immediately as he suddenly reached for her, pulling her abruptly to him with one arm and placing a firm but tender kiss on the Acrobat's lips.

Diana suddenly felt as though caught within the whirling torrent surrounding them. The kiss was very different than their last one back at the Keep. That one had been sweet and natural; the affirmation of a love that had never truly died. This one was full and serious, though desperately short; the reawakened memory of a sixteen-year-old passion poured into the few fleeting moments that it lasted. Eric's left hand pressed her to him as his fingers spread flat against the small of her back, sending a tingling quaver up her spine. Diana attempted to ignore the desperation of the circumstances which compelled him to continue gripping the sword in his right fist as he held her. The Acrobat's fingers moved to cling to the toggles at the shoulders of his cape as her initial shock faded and she began to kiss him back. Before she had time to slide her arms fully around his neck, Eric had pulled away, leaving her feeling chilled, empty.

As her mind swam, she felt, rather than saw him crouch down and to the side, thrusting his arm into the pile of weapons and retrieving his shield. Straightening, Eric faced Diana again with an all too brief smile, both weapons in hand.

Then he turned and ran toward the Nameless One.

"Dad, stop!!" John screamed as he came racing forward in a wild panic. Toby reached out and caught the boy, who ardently struggled with his friend beside the dumbstruck Diana.

The Acrobat's eyes followed where Eric was going, her lips still tingling. Suddenly another kind of shiver, one of dread, rippled through her body. "My God," she gasped. "He'll be killed!" She, too, broke into a desperate run. The Fighter reached out to stop her as well, but his struggle with John prevented him from catching her.

"Aunt Di!" he shouted. "Come back!"

Diana skidded to a halt as she passed the pile of weapons. Without thinking twice, she plunged her hand into the dome of silvery magic and pulled out her javelin. She then took off after Eric.

John and Toby shared a startled look before ceasing their joint struggle, releasing their grip on each other, and tearing after their loved ones. Both the Fighter and the Squire paused to retrieve their weapons from the pile, just as Diana had, before running onward.

It was at this time that the Nameless One's onslaught against Venger suddenly died down. The new Dungeon Master's power likewise faded in a swirl of exhaustion and he sank to his knees to recover his strength. Uni nuzzled him gently.

High above the tar-colored clouds, the Evil One seemed to turn His monstrous formless head to where several insect-like individuals were sprinting toward Him. One may have guessed that He Whose Name Can Not Be Spoken was almost amused by the approaching transgressors. His unearthly beastlike snarling shifted to a defiant shriek and He glared through sickly yellow eyes at the encroaching Young Ones. He turned His attention completely away from the recovering Venger and altered His aim as Eric slid to a halt below.

Hank swiftly ran after his friends, his wife and daughter instinctively joining him. The Ranger hardly needed to stop at the pile of weapons, which was now lying idle on the ground after Venger's magic had ceased charging them. He bent down as he passed, grabbing three items: the bow, the cape, and the sword hilt. He held a firm grip on the first as he tossed the other two back in the direction of the women behind him. Sheila caught them both and handed the hilt to Ayesha as she simultaneously swung her cloak around her shoulders and ran onward.

Varla took off as though signaled by a starter's pistol. Presto was startled for a moment before sprinting after her as fast as he could. The Mystic dropped to her knees and rummaged through the remaining weapons for her thin and delicate-looking stick. She found it under Presto's hat, which she promptly tossed up to him as he arrived at her side. The Magician suddenly felt a voice in his head. Come on, Daddy! it said as Varla flashed him a nervous smile and the two started toward their friends once more.

Bobby wasn't far behind with his club, but he glanced dubiously at Teri as she raced along at his side, her newly-retrieved necklace in hand. The Dreamer grinned assertively through her heavy breathing as she ran. Weapon or not, she was going to be with him through this. To the Barbarian's right appeared an elegant streak of white ivory. Uni galloped beside him toward the Nameless One, intent on remaining with the group of humans who were not only her companions, but also her friends.

As Eric skidded to a stop he looked up, suddenly gripped by the thought that this probably wasn't the greatest idea after all. He craned his neck back, his mouth sagging open like one standing at the foot of a skyscraper, straining to see its top. Completely devoid of any type of real plan, Eric stared at the lofty putrid light and the swirl of black clouds at the apex of the column.

Panic swelled through him as the veil of darkness parted again. The hellish face, which had burned itself into Eric's memory sixteen years ago, was visible for only an instant before the Nameless One's mouth opened and another attack from above rocketed downward.

The Cavalier screamed and squeezed his eyes shut, tightening his grip on the sword and holding it aloft and ready as he raised his shield to ward off any residual effects of the attack. He knew it was a useless defense, but he didn't know what else to do. If there was a chance that the sword's magic could reverse the attack, he had to try.

Suddenly another shout joined his and Eric's eyes flew open. "Eric!" Diana cried again, reaching him just seconds before the bolt of energy did and wrapping her hand around his arm. On reflex, he looked at her, unconsciously lowering his shield a fraction as he turned.

Time slowed as he realized what he had done. His heart seemed to fly upward and lodge itself somewhere in the back of his throat. Diana had slid to a halt beside him, but she wasn't trying to pull him out of there. They both seemed to know that they'd never clear the area in time. Instead, she stood there, her eyes blazing as they locked on his and the javelin in her other hand glowing fiercely. The feeling hit Eric like a truck – the memory of what he had confessed to her back at the Keep the previous night:

I love you. I have for a long time. I know now that I always will.

He knew that he had never spoken truer words in his life.

And in the split second that it took for Eric to tear his eyes away from her and back to the front as he vainly tried to re-raise his shield, the world sped up again and the Nameless One's attack instantly exploded upon them.

* * *

An eternal and unexpected moment came and went. The young woman still felt as though she was caught in a ferocious gale, still felt as though the world was swirling and upending around her, and still felt as though time had frozen in stasis as she waited for death. She had had no plan, no clear idea of what she should do; only the thought that if they were going to die, she would rather do so making a stand. And if Eric was going to be the first, Diana wasn't about to let him go alone.

She loved him too much for that.

She remembered hearing him cry out as the blast reached them. She, herself, had felt a significant jolt of pain, followed by a searing heat that spread throughout her entire body. After that, the pain subsided but left her with the sensation of pulsing fire under her skin. Again, she was reminded of Starfall.

What she didn't understand was why death wasn't coming. Aside from the initial lancing pain and the current pulsing sensation that seemed to beat like a corporeal heart beneath every inch of her skin, they appeared to have remained unscathed and unharmed. Diana's grip on Eric's arm tightened and she imagined for a moment that Venger had transported them to the Underworld again after all. The Acrobat finally opened her eyes to see that the scene around her had not changed. The storm still raged. The Cavalier was still at her side. And they were still in Tardos Valley.

Together, Diana and Eric looked up -- to a point just above their heads, a point just beyond Eric's sword, which now glowed a brilliant white, where the Nameless One's blast hovered and churned angrily . . . but didn't touch them. They also noticed that their other weapons, both the shield and the javelin, were also aglow – with a intense blaze the likes of which neither of them had ever seen.

"Wha-?" Diana breathed, astonished.

The two were jolted from behind when Toby and John finally reached them. The Fighter grabbed Diana's arm urgently, trying to pull her back. John, likewise appeared next to his father, desperately struggling to drag the Cavalier back around, back away from the blast that could resume its decent and come crashing down upon them at any moment.

"Dad!" he cried. "Dad, come on!!"

What happened then was even more unexpected. As John and Toby reached Diana and Eric they began to feel a similar burning sensation followed by the strange pulsing which spread from head to foot. A great roar was heard from the sky above, and steadily, unexplainably, the Nameless One's attack was pushed back even further; higher into the air.

Toby gasped, gripping his intensely glowing weapon tighter. "What's happening?" he whispered.

"Not a clue," Eric returned breathlessly. He had remembered, again, that the sword entrusted to his son had the power to redirect a magical attack back toward its source. That was probably what had saved them initially, but this was something more. Much more.

All at once, the group increased in size as Ayesha reached Toby. The young Paladin sank her fingers into a corner of the Fighter's indigo leather vest and reached forward with her sword using the other hand, eyes fixed on the creature above. Sheila immediately clasped the girl's shoulder as she came to a halt beside Ayesha. Hank also skidded to an abrupt stop, simultaneously drawing his bow and pointing it toward the sky. The Thief stretched out her other hand and gripped his upper arm as he pulled back the blazing arrow. Sheila's own weapon shimmered upon her shoulders. The entire group began to be vaguely aware of a ruby light surrounding them and pressing skyward against the Nameless One's attack. In front of the amazed eyes of the seven Young Ones, as the throbbing feeling tingled beneath their skin, the red glow around them intensified and the deadly magic of the Nameless One receded even further.

By then, it started to become clear. Hank had been right. It was not their weapons that held the power to protect the Realm. It never was. It was them. It came to be exactly as Venger had told them: "Your power, channeled through your weapons, is the one thing that, when combined, can prevent the crusade of the Nameless One's new servants."

But even the new Dungeon Master hadn't known the veritable truth behind his own words. To defeat, not merely the newest forces of evil, but also the One who was as old as time itself, a greater force of good was needed; one with the power to counter His evil. The Young Ones, as well as their children, indeed had their own magic -- and the weapons were only a small part of that. The objects of power were merely a channel. Even greater was the Young Ones' own purity of heart, their friendship, their legacy of love which bound them.

As real and tangible as a weapon against the darkest evil.

As they stood linked together, driving the Evil One's energy back, they slowly began to realize this. And together, as though they were of one mind, they pressed on.

The malevolent siege retreated even further as Varla linked arms with John, gripping her wand tightly and holding a hand out for Presto to join her. The Magician quickly did and, with his other hand, held the open mouth of his glowing hat toward the sky.

Teri did the same at the opposite end of the line, placing one palm gently on Hank's shoulder as he continued to hold his bow aloft. Bobby appeared at her other side and entwined his fingers tightly around hers. Teri's heart-shaped pendent dangled down, twinkling brightly, from their linked hands. Bobby held his glowing club up and out to his other side. The Barbarian looked at the Dreamer with a strangely peaceful smile, which she returned, before both finally turned their heads upward to glare defiantly at the supreme evil over their heads.

Soon, all eleven Young Ones were assembled, linked as though in a chain, daring to challenge the destroyer of worlds, and armed only with their own objects of power as well as the purity in their hearts. With a savage howl, the creature above felt His attack repelled even more.

A few seconds later, Uni appeared beside Bobby, her graceful neck arched back as she stood protectively with her human friends. The unicorn's flame-tinted mane streamed behind her and her alicorn began to glow, adding to the light that surrounded the group.

Venger rose to his feet and walked steadily toward his young friends. He stretched his hands over all of them and added his own power to their struggle. This caused the blast of evil fire to withdraw even farther, until it reached a point halfway between the Nameless One in the sky and the Young Ones on the earth. And there, it suddenly stopped, hovering violently in midair.

The group below watched it with bated breath, afraid that the slightest waver in their concentration would cause the torpedo of evil fire to come crashing upon them again. But the Evil One's magic, as well as their own, remained in a deadly stalemate, hovering in space.

"What's wrong?" Hank finally shouted over the deafening swirl of magic around them.

"Why'd it stop?" Bobby added, risking a glance back at Venger.

The Dungeon Master strained for a moment as he continued to focus his power. "We are . . . ," he grunted in a labored voice, ". . . equally . . . matched!"

"You've gotta be kidding!" Eric yelled out, his sword arm quivering above his head. "Twelve against one is equal?!"

A strained, though clearly annoyed, snort from far to the Cavalier's left declared Uni's displeasure with that remark. "All right!" he amended exasperatedly. "Thirteen!"

"There's got to be some way to turn up the juice!" Toby added insistently.

Venger didn't respond to any of them as he tried to reach down into the depths of himself, searching for more power. There had to be something more. Some small wisp of what Dungeon Master had given him that he hadn't used yet. Something to tip the scales . . . .

Then, as though an answer to a prayer, the scales tipped.

A thin beam of even more red energy rocketed into the fray, adding itself to the Young Ones' power and slowly, steadily, pushing against the Nameless One's evil magic. Each of the humans on the ground, seeing what was happening, concentrated even harder, tightening their grip on each other, as well as on their weapons, steeling their strength, and not thinking to ask where this added help was coming from.

The fevered throbbing within them intensified into an ardent frenzied pulse, hammering beneath their skin as they fought with every last bit of their strength. Suddenly, a sharp dissonance rang through the valley, a roar of final protest from the ancient evil as His magic repelled back to its point of origin and was swallowed by the force that the Young Ones had sent to counter it.

The burning pillar was enveloped in a blinding flash of silvery fire and the lightning which had surrounded the evil creature reacted violently to the countering magic. The shaft which made up the Nameless One's body grew wider for a moment before a thunderous explosion rocked the canyon, spreading out over everything in its path and leaving behind nothing . . . .

Nothing but lingering shrieks of dissent. All that remained of He Without Name.

* * *

Author's Notes: Much of this chapter referred heavily to the D&DC episode Dungeon at the Heart of Dawn (most especially any description of the Nameless One) and, of course, Michael Reaves' script for Requiem. A few quotes were adapted directly from these sources.

The opening quotation is cited from the libretto of Man of La Mancha, by Dale Wasserman (which is, of course, based on the wonderful novel of Don Quijote by the equally wonderful Miguel de Cervantes).

As for the story, it may be drawing to an end, but there are still a few questions left to answer. Is No-Name really gone? Are the Young Ones and their families going to make it home? Where did that last bit of "help" come from, anyway? I hope you'll enjoy the final installment to come!

To be concluded . . . .