14h Day of Ready'reat, 565 CY
The Barony of Willip, Furyondy
(About 1 Mile NW of the Brass Dragon Inn)
Reluctantly blocking out everything from his concentration- including the sounds of his friends in battle- Aslan gritted his teeth and fired back a psionic blast of his own. He knew he had struck true, but another blast quickly washed over him. Again, the paladin returned mental fire.
All his senses seemed to be under assault. Aslan kept his head down, but his eyes did not register his feet slowly trudging through the snow towards his foe, one belabored step after another.
A white haze that was not falling snow began to register at the sides of his vision.
Argo suddenly squatted down, reversed his grip on Harve, and stabbed upwards at the belly of Sbalt's horse. The brigand leader tried to repeat his earlier maneuver, but this time the ranger's attack was beyond the sweep of his axe. The steed screamed as its flesh sank down onto the blade of Argo's weapon, and then the horse toppled over, its blood spurting out to stain the snow red as Bigfellow yanked the sword free. Sbalt, reacting quickly, took the fall adroitly and rolled free. He was up in an instant, his axe already moving into attack position when he suddenly cried out in pain.
Argo hadn't noticed. He was too busy doing the same.
A Talent attack, the big ranger realized just before rational thought left him.. We're too close to Aslan and Nodyath!
Involuntarily, Bigfellow turned to run. He cursed his body's inability to respond as Sbalt roared with fury. Due to Argo's flight, the man's greataxe sweep across his back did not cut him in half, but the wound was still hard and deep enough to be serious.
Snow flew everywhere as Elrohir galloped forward towards two of the Outlaw brigands. Gokasillion flashed white as it evaded one bandit's attempt at a parry and struck home, burying itself on the downstroke through the man's shoulder. White Lightning pivoted right and struck out with her hooves. One caught the other brigand a galncing blow on the forehead. Both men dropped, but the ranger could see the latter was still alive.
Elrohir spared a glance around- he'd heard casting. His eyes caught a large, brown, furry, bipedal shape that hadn't been there last time he looked loping away from the hamatula devil. Even through the snowfall, the ranger could see the creature was bleeding badly. He had a brief glance of two men he assumed were Frill and Transdoor, both gesturing frantically as the fiend reached out for them.
The sound of a horse coming up behind him caused the team leader to move White Lightning back to the left with his knees, but the source proved only to be Laertes, stabbing and wounding another brigand with his shortspear.
"Well done, Laertes!" Elrohir shouted encouragingly at the half-orc.
If Laertes replied, Elrohir never heard it. A sound louder and more terrible than any human shout could ever hope to be seem to radiate down on him from above. Ahead and to his right, over two dozen of the bandits, who had been beginning to spread out, dropped down onto the snow and did not move again.
About thirty feet above them, Cygnus circled on Gylandir.
I've never seen- or rather heard- that spell before, thought Elrohir. It must be one he recently learned. I'm glad he was able to place it just right. I'd hate to have been any closer. As it was, the dreadful shout continue to echo in his ears, making the lightning bolt Zantac now fired from atop his warhorse seem oddly silent. Three more Outlaw brigands fell, smoking, where they stood.
Elrohir glanced around. Caroline was landing, guiding Sequester down in a tight spiral and decapitating a bandit who had been fatally distracted by the spells raining down all around him. Nesco, charging up on Perlial to Laertes' right, took out another bandit, but more were advancing now on Elrohir and the half-orc. Swords and spears clashed again.
Elrohir saw the wounds on White Lightning's neck and the flank of Laertes' steed. Their enemies were trying to dismount them and if they weren't able to stop them, they would succeed.
The fear faded. Argo spun around but did not head back towards Sbalt, as he did not wish to be inadvertantly caught in Aslan and Nodyath's mental battle again. The big ranger tried to ignore the searing pain and the blood dripping down his back underneath his damaged plate mail as Sbalt charged him, the bandit leader's weapon already in motion again.
Harve caught the greataxe, locking both men in a death struggle. Argo Bigfellow Junior, stronger than any member of his party, could only stand his ground as Sbalt's enraged strength, equal to his own, tried to force the ranger down.
No quips came to Argo's mind. There were too many screams all around him.
White Lightning's body rose and fell in time to her master's longsword strokes as the warhorse's hooves lashed out again and again. Elrohir killed another onrushing brigand, but White Lightning's attacks merely wounded yet another and he, along with the one the horse had injured earlier, slashed and stabbed at the steed again. Her scream of pain was not needed to tell Elrohir that his faithful companion was getting the worse of this exchange. As long as Outlaw bandits were willing to hurl their lives away so cheaply, White Lightning would eventually fall.
That, thought the ranger through gritted teeth, is not going to happen. No matter what.
Psionic blasts were discarded as Aslan and Nodyath finally clashed sword-to-sword.
The fighter's battle style was more aggressive than the paladin's, but Aslan had been expecting that. He settled into his usual routine- if anything in battle could truly be called routine- of fighting defensively while looking for his perfect moment. He parried Nodyath's sideswipe and tried a shield bash, but his counterpart blocked it.
"A cheap copy!" Nodyath spat.
"What makes you think you're not the copy?" Aslan inquired as he sidestepped Nodyath's lunge.
"I never changed my name!" Nodyath responded, and hearing what sounded like his own voice full of confidence was enough to give Aslan pause.
The screech of the pegasus and the beating of her wings in battle filled the bulk of Caroline Bigfellow's hearing and vision, but not so much that she didn't see the magic missiles that flew into her view- she couldn't see from which mage they had originated- and strike one of the bandits who was rushing upon her and Sequester. A second later, one of the pegasus' hooves had finished off that same brigand while the other struck again the same warrior Caroline had attacked as she landed. A final thrust from Lady Bigfellow's sword finished him off, but from ahead and to the right, yet more bandits were emerging from the swirling snow and charging. To her immediate left, Caroline watched Nesco, still astride Perlial, finish off her Outlaw bandit and then turn and grin at her.
"Up for more?" Lady Cynewine shouted as she urged Perlial into a cantor designed to intercept their new attackers. The warhorse barreled into her lead opponent and sent him down to the ground where she trampled him to death.
Argo abruptly stepped back, and Sbalt overbalanced, stumbling forward. An instant later, Harve's crimson glow dulled as new blood, fresh from Sbalt's side, coated it. Although a serious wound, Sbalt seemed not to notice it as, with an even louder roar, he slammed the hilt of his greataxe into Argo's helm, causing him to see stars and stunning the big ranger for the split second it took for the axe's blade to come around and bite deep into Bigfellow's left shoulder. Harve sank again into Sbalt's flesh in response, and then both combatents disengaged, looking for the next strike.
Argo had to bite his lip to keep from screaming out in pain. It was just as well that the big ranger disdained the use of a shield, because his left arm now hung useless at his side.
Attrition wasn't going to work. Argo could understand now how the Sir Dorbin party, even at full strength, had been unable to defeat this man. Sbalt was as tough as anyone the big ranger had ever faced- as tough as any of the Slave Lords- and Bigfellow's damn overconfidence had now put him square into the losing spot, just as it had done that night at Grandien's.
Argo switched to parrying, and began slowly to back away. Behind him and to the right, a figure trudging through the snow was beginning to emerge, but Argo couldn't identify it yet.
Aslan wasn't doing much better. The paladin and his counterpart sliced at each other, drawing blood again. Aslan wondered how much Talent he had left for healing- or how much Nodyath had left, for that matter. Trying to heal up in the midst of melee was damn near tricky, if not impossible, as a well-timed blow could spoil it all. Aslan parried as Nodyath came in low, attacking again. He tried to keep his mind open for the telltale mental ping that Nodyath might be utilizing his Talent, but that damn plate armor, gouged and sliced as it was, left little room for seeing direct evidence of the skin underneath healing. Only Nodyath's face was visible, just like Aslan's.
Wait a minute, Aslan thought suddenly, narrowing his eyes. Just like mine? He's changed the shape of his helm of telepathy- why do that, unless it's to look exactly like-
Nodyath's actions rather than his taunts supplied the answer he was looking for. The Rolexian fighter attacked high, using his sword and shield not so much to damage Aslan as to sidle over to his right side. The paladin turned to face him of course, but it now occured to Aslan that anyone looking over at the two of them would have absolutely no idea which one of them was which. Aslan didn't dare take his eyes off Nodyath. Behind him and all around the two of them, people were yelling and screaming. Spells were being cast- Aslan couldn't make out what spells or from whom- and that damn snow continued to indifferently fall, silently and relentlessly covering up the red bloodstains at their feet.
Then Nodyath glanced back in the direction where Aslan estimated that Elrohir, Argo and the others still were.
"Nodyath's pressing me!" he suddenly yelled. "I could use a hand here!"
Aslan's in trouble!
The thought flashed through Elrohir's mind even as his sword dispatched one brigand foe and White Lightning's flashing hooves yet another. Two more of a seemingly never-ending supply of bandits were rushing toward him though, seemingly determined to dehorse the ranger at any cost.
"Laertes!" he yelled to the figure on his right. "Go help Aslan!"
The half-orc obeyed, moving his horse forward but the two onrushing Outlaw brigands altered their course from Elrohir to him. Laertes stabbed one with his spear, but the wound wasn't mortal and he still wasn't skilled enough to use his warhorse to its best advantage. The bandit slashed with his longsword, and the half-orc's horse stumbled and faltered. The brigand's companion came in from the flank, burying his sword deep in the warhorse's previous wound, and with a neigh and a scream, it went down. Laertes tried to leap clear, but his foot got caught and the beast landed partially on top of him.
Caroline watched as another approaching bandit suddenly screamed as a thin ray of fire originating somewhere behind her set him alight. He dropped to the ground and rolled in the snow as Caroline risked a quick look behind her, seeing (as she expected to) Zantac, still astride his warhorse, giving her a thumbs-up sign.
She hesitated. She'd heard Elrohir yell out that Aslan was in trouble, but despite having a general idea in what direction the paladin might be (unless he'd moved since then), she could see no sign of him or Nodyath, and another half-dozen or so Outlaw brigands were approaching. Hoping against hope that Aslan would be all right just for a few more seconds, Lady Bigfellow directed Sequester towards the newest threat instead. Just as the burned Outlaw rose to his feet, a quick lash from the pegasus' hoof put him down again, this time for good.
Between the searing strikes of Sundancer and Perlial's flashing hooves, another bandit soon lay dead; a crimson patch in the snow. His companion, roaring in rage, managed to land a strike on Perlial. The warhorse reared involuntarily, but Nesco held on.
"Don't worry, girl!" Lady Cynewine shouted at her steed. "You think I'd dare disappoint Aslan?" But no sooner had the words left her lips when two more brigands emerged from the whiteness and attacked- not her, but Perlial again. Their attacks were ineffectual, however.
Divine faith, Nesco thought. Aslan and his steed share the same power! That differentiates Aslan from Nodyath. And that might be useful in case Nodyath tries to- tries to-
Nesco had fought alongside Aslan many times. At the cusp of dying, she'd stared into his face. She knew him. Knew him...
"Elrohir!" she suddenly shouted. "We could have a problem here! That might not have been Aslan!"
Argo was now completely on the defensive, but it was no good. He'd been wounded too severely, and just wasn't moving fast enough. Sbalt, still energized from some source of inexhaustible rage, sliced into Argo's right thigh with his greataxe. Despite his best efforts, the big ranger sank to his knees. He couldn't keep Harve in position to parry anymore, He was too weak and Sbalt was too-
Sbalt was engaged.
Before Argo's snow-and-blood-encrusted eyes could even identify the figure clearly, the unmistakable ki shout of Yanigasawa Tojo split the air and the Aardian samurai- very angry indeed at being denied a spot on horseback and thus left out of the opening stages of the battle at last found a target for his own rage. Sbalt roared again, but this time it was in pain as blood gushed out of the wound in his side where Tojo's katana had made a clean strike.
Aslan and Nodyath continued to clash. The paladin knew this was taking a toll on him. Was it taking the same toll on his enemy, he wondered? Exactly how alike were they?
"You can't win," Aslan huffed to his foe through aching lungs. Nodyath's reply, similarly fatigued, came back within seconds.
"You're the one who'll lose," he said. "You're so ignorant, it would be funny if it wasn't."
"You have a magical helm. I have faith," Aslan replied, even as both shields came up to deflect simultaneous attacks. "It's no contest."
"Faith?" roared Nodyath suddenly and unexpectedly. "Faith in what, paladin? Your god? Your friends? Don't you have the faintest clue of how doomed we both are? Doomed from birth?"
Aslan was so shocked at that he barely managed to dodge Nodyath's subsequent attack.
Both of us? he thought, as a chill that had nothing to do with the weather seemed to settle in his veins.
That answers my question. I think we're more alike than ever I dared to imagine.
"To Niflehem with you!" White Lightning shouted.
The Outlaw bandit standing before Elrohir's steed was so shocked at being spoken to by a horse- despite what he had been told beforehand about their intelligence- that the two following hoofstrikes left him in no condition to defend as Gokasillion took another life.
Meanwhile, Laertes had extricated himself from his dead beast of burden and stood up now. His tusks chomped against his lips as he yelled his defiance in orcish at the remaining brigand who had brought him down. As he attacked, the bandit brought up his wooden shield, but Laertes' fury drove his longspear right through the man's defense, and inflicted another wound, although he still remained upright.
Cygnus continued in his tight orbit. The mage was hanging onto his saddlehorn for dear life as snow continued to whip into his face. Gylandir was still flying as slowly as she could and still maintain her altitude, bleeding off her velocity into tight turns. Cygnus was now facing Nesco and a little further away, Caroline. Nearly a half-dozen Outlaws were swarming the two women.
Hope Perlial is as strong as Aslan claims she is, thought the wizard as he once again dug into his spell component pouch.
It was a surprise- albiet a pleasant one- for Nesco to watch as one of the three bandits attacking her suddenly collapsed to the ground, his eyes rolling up in his head as the sleep spell took him down. Perlial killed the second and Nesco wounded the third, the man's counterattack easily taken on her shield.
Behind Nesco and to her right, Caroline continued to battle her two opponents. Between her and Sequester, one Outlaw brigand was slain, although the other cut the pegasus' right wing with a lucky strike. The bandit smiled as the winged horse screamed in pain- and then screamed himself as a mixture of red, blue and yellow lights engulfed him.
"Gotta love the classics!" Zantac, who had just trotted up, yelled as he watched his color spray stun and blind his unfortunate victim. "Now for the big arrows!"
Aslan risked a glance behind and to his left when he heard the scream. He was just in time to see, about thirty feet back, the barbed devil peel the impaled, lifeless body of Transdoor off of itself and let it drop to the ground. It's horrid visage scanned the identical battling figures.
"I'm Aslan!" Nodyath shouted, pointing at Aslan. "He's the shapeshifter! Kill him!"
"No, he is!" Aslan yelled back, mentally cursing himself for not being quicker on the verbal draw.
The mental ping the paladin felt was evidence that Nodyath had, after taking a step backwards, healed himself.
Aslan followed suit.
The fiend, lacking any innate ability to identify who was really Nodyath, glowered at both individuals and then, using infernal logic, swiftly came to what to it must surely have been a satisfying conclusion.
"Kill you both," it growled.
From it's outstretched hand, two thin streams of fire cut through the snowfall, one aimed at each combatant.