3rd Day of Flocktime, 565 CY
Drachensgrab Hills, The Pomarj
Zantac whipped his head around.
"That sounded like a fireball," he said softly, staring out the window.
"Also sounded like someone got caught in it," Nesco added, catching his eye.
The red-robed wizard nodded in agreement, then glanced back at Argo.
The big ranger, who had not bothered to retrieve his helmet, still had his right ear and both palms pressed up against the uneven, splintered, badly damaged but intact wooden surface of the west door. It had been nearly five minutes since the assault of the door had ceased, and then the sounds of the hobgoblins without faded with their apparent retreat.
Bigfellow noticed Zantac looking at him and favored the mage with a raised eyebrow and a sly smile.
"You have my permission to go over to the window, Zantac. Talass and I will hold the fort."
The magic-user walked over to the window and took in the tableau before him. "Any more damage to this place and you may literally have to," he mumbled to himself.
There was again smoke issuing forth from the inner courtyard, although not nearly as much as before. Zantac could see no sign of flames, and assumed they were further back, towards the fortress. What looked like a dead goblin was laying on the ground about twenty feet north of the archway that led into the courtyard. Zantac watched as three goblins who were kneeling or squatting by the prone figure suddenly drew their short swords and started to advance towards a point that Zantac couldn't see- it was too close to the gatehouse wall, possibly near the door to the east tower.
He was however, able to see the goblins suddenly start and then run shrieking back to the west, vanishing from sight as they turned towards the gatehouse tunnel.
"Enemy purr back from this side, too."
Tojo's comment, spoken to the room in general, grabbed everyone's attention, even Zantac's.
It was true. The east door, in better shape than its counterpart due to the wizard lock upon it, no longer shuddered under assault from the other side.
"Well, every extra minute helps in theory." Nesco managed a quick grimace at Zantac. "Still, we could really use another miracle like we had-"
She broke off as Tojo, his katana once again held at battle readiness, suddenly began moving towards the body of Captain Gorbin Stalworth.
"Someone in room berow us," the samurai said in a low voice, his eyes down and his face furrowed in concentration. "May try to come up through trap door."
Lady Cynewine could see Tojo close his eyes briefly in fatigue, and his body sway slightly. She knew the combination of his injuries and the medusa venom were still taking their toll on the samurai.
"I'll handle it," Nesco said and quickly dropped down to her knees, facing the broken trap door. She gestured to Talass, who rolled Stalworth's body off to the left.
Slowly, the ranger drew Sundancer from her sheath and held the sword horizontally, ready to stab at the first head that appeared up from below.
When in fact the door was pushed open from below and the head appeared, it was not recognition that stayed Lady Cynewine's attack- it was shock.
The man- a human- had sustained horrific burns. The skin of his face was black from soot, except where it was red from where the skin had been roasted off. It was particularly bad on the top of his head, where whatever hair he might once have had was gone. Even his eyebrows had been reduced to two curves of scar tissue.
Nesco could only see a little of the man's body from her position, but he was bare-chested; his thin, burn-covered body dotted only with tiny patches of clothes that had melted onto his skin.
The brown eyes in that fire-ravaged visage stared at Nesco. Like Cynewine, the man seemed to be in shock, struggling for recognition.
And then the combined voices of Argo, Zantac and Talass broke through the silence like a blast from an angel's trumpet.
"Cygnus!"
Their friend stared up at them, blinking slowly.
"Yes?" he asked.
Nesco, shaken out of her stupor, dropped her sword and reached her arms out to pull the mage through the opening.
The wizard simply looked at her.
"Thank you," responded Cygnus slowly, his gaze moving to the reflected sunlight of the sword lying on the ground. "Is it morning already? I've kind of lost track of time." Only then did the magic-user seem to notice that Lady Cynewine was reaching out for him.
"I'd just as soon you didn't, Nesco," he said, slowly trying to maneuver his frame up through the opening without any part of his body touching the floor. "I'm pretty sure anything you touch will flake off in your hands."
The others watched in silence as Cygnus came through with agonizing slowness. A portion of his trousers remained, mostly about the mage's hips, but they weren't whole, and didn't completely cover- everything.
Nesco coughed and shifted her gaze just slightly. Oddly, Cygnus' belt remained, as did the spell component pouch that hung down from it; a small, swinging sack of dark red, scaly hide of some kind. It-
No. Wait. Yes. All right, Nesco thought. That was in fact his component pouch, and not-
The ranger got to her feet and moved off, trying to hide a blush she felt was completely inappropriate under the circumstances.
Talass cleared her throat.
Argo and Zantac locked eyes, and tight smiles appeared on both their faces. Argo in particular looked as if he were inclined to make one of his patented wisecracks, but the big ranger watched Cygnus wince in pain as he finally made it all the way into the room. Tears appeared in the wizard's eyes from the agony he was obviously enduring.
The smile vanished from Bigfellow's face as he stepped forward. "Is there anything we can do for you, Cygnus?" he asked quietly, gesturing towards the boxes stacked in the corner. "We have a few bandages left and some water, I think. We could-"
But Cygnus had already turned towards the party cleric, ignoring Argo completely. "I'd be much obliged if you could spare a healing spell, Talass, or perhaps even two. I'm afraid I'm in rather a bad way. In fact, I suspect I may be in shock."
"You don't say?" Zantac put in.
Talass flushed red and gulped. "I'm sorry, Cygnus," she responded softly, keeping her gaze held high. "I've used them all up for today."
Cygnus bent over, peering closely at her.
"Hmm," he remarked. "You should have saved a few for your nose, Talass. You look terrible."
"Thanks," the priestess mumbled, looking down. Cygnus straightened up again and regarded everyone around him.
There was a brief silence.
"So," Cygnus said. "Sorry I'm late. What'd I miss?"
Zantac rolled his eyes, took a step forward and before anyone could stop him, slapped Cygnus hard on the back.
The tall wizard screamed; his fists clenched tight as his head jerked towards the ceiling. Tears trickled out from underneath burned eyelids.
"Why in all the infernal realms did you do that, Zantac?" Talass shrieked at the Willip Wizard.
"We need him back with us all the way, Talass," replied Zantac, folding his arms across his chest and speaking loudly to be heard over Cygnus' continued wail. "Right now, he's as much use to us as Elrohir is."
Talass glared at Zantac, her customary cold fury returning to her eyes.
"I see. It's nice to know that's how you judge your companions, Zantac. I'll keep that in mind."
The red-robed wizard shook his head, exasperated. "Come on, Talass. You know that's not what I meant! It's just that we don't have the time to wait. You know I think the world of Cygnus-"
"Do you now?"
Cygnus, still trembling with pain, had now whirled to face his fellow wizard and was now adding his fire to Talass' icy glare.
"Thank you, Zantac!" Cygnus continued. "Thank you so much for your concern for my well-being! Once I've memorized another fireball, remind me to congratulate you properly!"
"All right," Bigfellow contributed. "I don't agree with his method, but he did snap you out of it, Cygnus, and as usual, we're all mere minutes away from death. Do you know what's going on out there, and can it help us escape somehow?"
Cygnus did not reply for a minute or so, as he concentrated on regulating his breathing. He looked over at Tojo with clear envy in his eyes. The samurai looked little better off than he did, and yet his face displayed nothing but his old passivity.
Tojo bowed to his friend.
"It is good to have you back with us, Cygnus-san."
"Yes," added Nesco, somewhat embarrassed that this particular notion had not yet been expressed. "We thought you were gone, Cygnus."
The tall mage nodded. "Understandable, Nesco. I'm a little surprised myself that I'm still kicking... and screaming," he said, the last word punctuated with another withering glare at Zantac.
The Willip wizard, his mission apparently accomplished, favored him with a shrug and a weak smile. Cygnus then seemed to remember something and turned back to Cynewine.
"But there's no time for that tale now. We've got to get out of here, and fast. Argo's plan gave us one percent back in the kitchen, and I think I can make it two." He pointed towards the east door. "We have to get out onto the rampart and-"
"Cygnus," Talass said, uncommonly quiet now.
The magic-user glanced over at the cleric.
Talass' eyes again started to fill up with tears as she looked towards the petrified Elrohir, still lying on the floor. "Cygnus," she repeated, "Elrohir. He's too heavy for Aslan to teleport, even if by some miracle he should return. I only have one more scroll of strength left. How far can we move him with that? It's not enough. There's no way we can bring him with us." The priestess' gaze locked onto the mage's face. "You're back, Cygnus. You're alive, and I thank Forseti for that. But that means someone else is the one who won't be coming back, and..."
She broke off, her eyes again turning to the statue on the floor.
Cygnus walked over to Talass. He made as if to put his hands on her shoulders but reconsidered at the last moment. "First of all, Talass," he said evenly, "and I tell you this as a fellow Asgardian, I'd get my money back on that vision."
Talass frowned and seemed about to protest, but Cygnus cut her off.
"As far as I'm concerned, there's a ninety-eight percent chance that we're all going to die, so let's go on that assumption and just think happy thoughts, okay?"
The priestess looked at him, confused. "Er..."
"Do you still have your prayer of stone shape, Talass?"
She blinked at him. "What? Oh, um, yes- I do, Cygnus," the cleric managed to get out. "But," and here she turned to look again at Elrohir and then back at Zantac, anguish in her blue eyes. "I can't cast that on Elrohir, Cygnus! All it would do is kill him!"
Cygnus shook his head. "I have no intention of you casting it on him, Talass. It's all part of my master plan."
"Uh, Cygnus," opined Zantac. "Your master plans generally fail."
"No time for trivialities," Cygnus responded, waving a hand in dismissal. "Everyone, gather up whatever you're taking with you. When everyone is ready, Talass, cast your last strength on Argo. Bigfellow, I need you to carry Elrohir solo one last time. Can you do it?"
Argo took a pointed look at each one of his arms, sighed and then gave Cygnus his legendary pained smile. "Ligaments are overrated anyway."
"That's the spirit," the tall mage replied. He was about to say more, but a sound from outside the window drew all their attention.
It sounded like a short but intense gust of wind.
A cold wind.
Cygnus and Zantac reached the window simultaneously and peered through the bars.
There was no more smoke coming from the inner courtyard.
Zantac glanced over at his fellow wizard. "The winter wolf?" he asked.
Cygnus shook his head. "I killed it."
The red-robed mage pondered for a moment. "Maybe they've got another."
A figure slowly walked out of the inner courtyard.
And Cygnus, despite his having gathered no information whatsoever about this person's physical appearance while he was outside, knew instantly and instinctively who this was.
And he now knew that they might very well no longer have even that two percent.
"Blackthorn," he whispered.
The humanoid (distance and poor light made it impossible to determine its exact race) was very tall, perhaps as tall as Icar, but shockingly thin. A hundred and fifty pounds at most, the two wizards guessed. Despite his great height, the figure was hunched over, his shoulders nearly as high as his head, which stuck out straight forward on a neck improbably- but not impossibly- long for a human.
Blackthorn's shoulders were broad, but his torso narrowed significantly down towards his waist. He wore a large but ill-fitting chain shirt, which hung loosely from his shoulders. Short sections of chain links covered portions of his arms and legs. He carried some kind of polearm with an unusually long handle and a slightly curved, bladed tip.
He was completely bald, with a skin color that looked almost like the greyish tone of a half-orc, although that was probably due to the moonlight. Blackthorn sported a large, bulging forehead. His features seemed almost skull-like, with eyes sunken so deep Cygnus doubted they'd be visible unless you stood right in front of him.
The head swung slowly around, taking in the surroundings. Blackthorn's movements seemed so casual, one might have assumed he was looking for a spot to lay a blanket down for a picnic rather than tracking down invaders to be destroyed. He occasionally twirled the polearm he held around in a languid fashion.
Then he looked directly up at the window.
Cygnus and Zantac froze. Blackthorn's eyes were still hidden in the shadowy recesses of his face.
But they could see his smile from here.
"Zantac!" Cygnus yelled. "Get that door open! Talass- cast that spell! Let's go, everyone. Move, move, move!"
The humans poured out onto the wall walk.
This section of the parapet that connected to the officers' quarters was about twenty feet wide and perhaps fifty feet long, turning at the end to the south and narrowing to a ten-foot width. A log stockade surrounded the wall walk on both sides, the sharpened tips of the logs reaching to over six feet in height. Every ten feet, a two-foot wide section of the logs had been chopped out at a height of about five feet, allowing visual access. Numerous arrow slits also peppered the stockade wall.
There was no one on the wall walk, but twenty feet down from the far corner, chained to the east stockade wall, was one of those small, dark blue creatures with a bulbous, bald head and large ears that they had seen on the slave convoy on their trip here. It spotted the party, extended an unnaturally long arm at them and set up a high-pitched screaming that made everyone want to cover their ears.
The east parapet extended down over two hundred feet to the end of the fortress. Since it had no log stockade on the inside, the party was able to discern a number of hobgoblins about halfway down, some carrying torches, start moving back towards them.
Zantac, currently occupying the middle rank of the marching order (or as he preferred to think of it, the fleeing-blindly-in-panic-to-our-deaths order) with Talass, turned around to yell at Cygnus, directly behind him.
"Time to impress us with your master plan, Tindertwig!"
"I'm still finalizing a few details, but we need to gain that corner there!" The younger mage pointed over to the northeast. "Nesco! Tojo!" He yelled to the front rank. "Take out that creature if you can! I don't want it teleporting on top of us!"
The ranger and the samurai looked back at the mage, nodded acknowledgement and then turned to each other.
"We're not going very fast, what with Argo carrying Elrohir," Lady Cynewine said, a mean smile creasing her face. "What say we go on ahead and pretty much go wild?"
Tojo raised an eyebrow. "Go wired?"
"Just follow," Nesco groaned and started running towards the chained creature, the samurai close behind. She drew Sundancer en route, although the samurai, who had resheathed his katana when they had left the tower, made no move to re-draw his sword yet.
The creature stopped its caterwauling long enough to witness the two humans bearing down on it. The thing's eyes fairly bulged from their sockets, and then with a whoop, it disappeared, the neck chain clanking down against the logs.
Nesco and Tojo pulled up as they reached the corner. A quick glance southward showed the hobgoblins to be about fifty feet away, but they had slowed their advance to a near crawl. It was plain to see that the humanoids did not seem overeager to attack at this point. Perched on top of the log wall by them was the blue creature, gibbering wildly.
Lady Cynewine turned to her partner. "Should we charge them, Tojo? In narrower quarters, they couldn't slip past us and-"
Without warning, Tojo's right hand shot out to push Nesco's forehead head down and away so hard that the ranger fell backwards. Simultaneously, the samurai bent his knees and dropped down, himself his upper torso bending back.
"What?" cried a startled Nesco, but suddenly a long brown shaft- like a spear, only bigger- flashed by her eyes. A split-second later, there was a tremendous crash as it plowed into the section of the east wall by the duo. Splinters of wood went flying.
When Nesco got her bearings back and stood up again, a five-foot section of the log stockade had pretty much been destroyed.
You have GOT to start paying more attention to what's going on around you, she chided herself, looking back now to the west. You saw the trap door on the ceiling. You knew there had to be something up there, didn't you?
Directly above the officer's quarters was the top of the eastern guard tower. A hobgoblin could be partially seen over the wall, turning a wheel crank furiously. The ballista was apparently bolted to a moveable platform of some kind, because the siege weapon was now swinging around, the hobgoblin adjusting the angle of attack. Another hobbie was already busy reloading the ballista.
Suddenly, an opaque cloud of brownish-red vapors enveloped the half of the tower roof containing the ballista and the two hobgoblins. Coughing and retching noises could be heard from within.
Zantac turned to eye his peer as the four remaining adventurers rejoined Tojo and Nesco.
"At least I used all of my spells early, for the benefit of the party! I didn't hoard them on the off-chance that I might get a chance to show off later!"
Cygnus turned from the stinking cloud he had created and grinned. "Well, that was officially my last spell, so I hope that makes you feel better, my friend." He made a wry face. "Can't say it does much for me."
"Your last spell?" Talass cried, aghast. "And exactly how are we going to get off this wall?"
"Ahh," came the response from Tojo.
The samurai eyed Cygnus with a slight smile, starting to bow. "Cygnus-san retrieve my rope of crimeing. Very crever."
"Umm, actually…" Cygnus began, looking even more red than he had been, which considering his burns was no mean feat.
The bow stopped in mid-descent.
"I had to use the rope of climbing to strangle a hobgoblin to get the keys to the tower," Cygnus said sheepishly, very gently running a hand over the top of his head. "Of course, once the hobbies started fleeing, they left the door open, so it turns out I didn't need the keys after all, and by then your rope had kind of been- been…"
Tojo slowly straightened up, eyeing the tall wizard without expression.
"...cut to pieces," Cygnus finished with a rather lame attempt at a smile.
"Cut to pieces," the samurai repeated, nodding slowly, his fingers drumming along the sheath of his katana. "That sound rike good idea."
Cygnus' eyes went wide. He stared hard at Tojo. It almost looked like there was the hint of a smile there but considering how much everyone's view of Tojo had changed since this expedition began, he didn't want to assume anything.
"You- you are kidding. Right, Tojo?"
The samurai shrugged; one eyebrow slightly raised.
"Depends on how good master pran is, Cygnus-san."
"Cygnus."
The voice was Argo's. Cygnus glanced over and then followed Bigfellow's gaze.
Blackthorn was still standing in the parade grounds, staring up at them. Cygnus frowned. He'd hoped that Blackthorn would have headed into the east tower after them, which would have meant he'd have to contend with Zantac's wizard locked door, but the giant, cadaverous man simply continued to gaze upwards at the party and smile.
Argo grimaced, adjusting his grip on their petrified party leader. "I assume that's someone we don't want to meet."
"Not even for a second," Cygnus breathed, then shot a quick glance back at the ranger. Bigfellow was staring at the wizard, sweat pouring down his forehead from his burden.
"Spell duration, Cygnus," he said worriedly, jiggling Elrohir. "Time is magic, time is magic."
The tall magic-user clenched his fists, letting the pain that action generated flood into him. He needed to focus. There was no more time left. Everyone was looking at him.
Some master plan, he thought. Some great big, brilliant master plan you've got there, Cygnus. You're saved from certain death by a miracle, and now everyone else is going to die because they're following you.
"All right!" Cygnus yelled, looking around him at five expectant faces. "You want to know what my master plan is? I'll tell you!"
He pointed at the destroyed section of the log wall that they were all standing by.
"We jump!"
The silence that followed was not total. Some kind of argument seemed to be going on among the hobgoblins; the small blue creature was still jabbering like some odious monkey; somewhere, disturbingly close, the howl of a wolf split the air.
But there was a distinct pause before the words started sputtering out.
"What?" Talass gasped.
"You- you are kidding- right, Cygnus?" Argo asked, using the wizard's own recent words.
"I have to admit- I was hoping for a little more," said Nesco Cynewine, with a heart-rending look of disbelief on her face.
Tojo said nothing.
"I should have slapped you harder- you're still nuts!" Zantac shouted. "If you didn't have a plan, why not say so? Why lead us up here?" The magic-user took a step over to where the wall had been destroyed and peered down. "That's got to be at least a sixty foot drop! What are we supposed to do, dammit- fly?"
He whirled back to face Cygnus, but his fellow mage was now waving something in his face.
It was crumpled and wrinkled.
It was scorched around the edges.
Heat and moisture had made their attempt to obliterate it entirely.
But Zantac still recognized the scroll from Icar's treasure hoard.
The two wizards locked eyes. Zantac's mouth dropped open.
"Feather fall?" he squeaked.
A light somewhere between triumph and insanity shone from Cygnus' blackened face.
"You got it, Tubbo!" Cygnus shouted back, and with a maniacal grin suddenly lunged forward and shoved Zantac as hard as he could, while a single arcane syllable shot from his lips, followed by one word in Common.
"FLY!"
Cygnus never even looked down. The pitch of Zantac's scream told him that his fellow magic-user was falling at the expected velocity, so he turned to Talass.
"Jump!"
The cleric glanced briefly back to Argo, still struggling with Elrohir. "Cygnus!" she cried. "What about-"
"I'll tell you what to do once we regroup down below! Please, Talass- jump!"
The priestess closed her eyes tight, took a deep breath and jumped off. Her attempts to stifle her own scream were pretty much a total failure.
Nesco, currently peering over the edge, gulped. Despite the name of the spell Cygnus was using, it seemed like her compatriots were falling a lot faster than an actual feather would. She gave the magic-user a fearful look.
"Uh, Cygnus, I'm really not used to this type of thing. Maybe I could just climb down instead?"
Cygnus inclined his head. "Tojo. If you would?"
The samurai never laid a hand on Cynewine, nor did he need to. He simply took a step forward so that he was standing right in front of her and thrust his face at hers, as if to kiss her.
Nesco cried out in surprise and tumbled backwards off the wall.
Cygnus shook his head after uttering the magical syllable. "You enjoyed that, didn't you, Tojo?"
The samurai gazed thoughtfully at the wizard but said nothing as he turned around on the edge of the precipice, crossed his arms across his chest, closed his eyes, and fell backwards.
The wizard saw Tojo off with another casting of the scroll. He turned to Argo, who was looking dolefully at Elrohir.
"Will the spell work with me carrying him, Cygnus?"
The mage bit his lip. "In theory, given your present strength, Argo- yes. But it's not anything I've ever tested."
Argo nodded glumly, and then his auburn eyes widened as he looked over Cygnus' shoulder.
"Cygnus- get back!" Bigfellow said loudly.
"Human!"
The magic-user looked to the south, where that last shout had originated. The hobgoblins had now advanced to within thirty feet of their position. In the lead was a particularly muscular hobbie with skin a somewhat brighter orange than its fellow humanoids. He held a metallic shield in his left hand that was festooned with savage-looking spikes, including a large one jutting out from the center. He carried no weapons, but his right hand was encased in a metallic gauntlet that was also covered with short metal spikes. In that hand he carried a small vial of liquid. He was pointing at Bigfellow, who was still carrying Elrohir.
"You strong, human?" the hobgoblin shouted.
"No, me Argo," the ranger replied easily.
"If I'm not mistaken, that's Sergeant Roryx," Cygnus informed his companion. "A real diehard type."
"I prefer the die easy type, but I'll work with what we've got," Bigfellow quipped, then shot a hard look over at Cygnus. "Get to the side!" he snapped. "I'll handle this." Cygnus obediently took several steps back to the west
Roryx, now about twenty feet out, stopped. With one of the spikes on his gauntlet, he punctured the wax seal on the vial and drained its contents with one gulp, then belched and glared at Argo while flexing his muscles.
"Now me stronger!" he bellowed.
A telescoping spike a foot long suddenly shot out from the knuckles of the gauntlet.
"Now that's just overkill," Argo murmured, as he set Elrohir down and stepped to the side.
Roryx roared and charged.
For some reason, an image came suddenly into Bigfellow's mind. An image of Elrohir fighting hobgoblins in the corridor earlier this evening.
A gift to Argo, and to Harve.
Bigfellow smiled and gave the petrified form of his friend a quick glance. "You always come up with the right idea at the right time, Elrohir," he whispered. "Thanks."
He made no move to draw Harve. He just studied the approaching hobbie, noting exactly how high he was holding his shield, how high he was holding his right hand.
At the last possible second, just as Roryx reached him, Argo squatted down suddenly, grabbed the hobgoblin around his waist and then straightened up, hurling the humanoid up, over his head, and back.
Roryx's scream, unlike the others, indicated a rapid descent. The other hobbies turned tail and fled.
Argo wasted no more time in pithy remarks. Perhaps sensing the imminent demise of the strength prayer, he grabbed Elrohir, lifted him a few inches off the rampart floor with a mighty heave, and half-walked, half-stumbled over the edge to Cygnus' accompanying spell. The mage stood on the brink and watched them fall at the correct rate.
"Hello, Cygnus."
The wizard spun around at the sound of that unfamiliar, hollow voice.
Cygnus hadn't jumped yet, but that didn't stop him from wanting to scream.
Blackthorn was flying slowly up from below. He now gently touched down upon the rampart and began to walk swiftly towards the magic-user. The polearm twirled over his head in a steel circle.
"Perhaps you and I could have a little chat?"
Faster than fast, the polearm was flying at him. Cygnus knew his fear was quicker than his conscious mind, so he let himself shriek, stumble backwards and fall.
Unable to ignore the bone-chilling sound of Blackthorn's laughter, he had almost hit the ground before he remembered to shout out his final spell.