14h Day of Ready'reat, 565 CY
The Barony of Willip, Furyondy
(About 1 Mile NW of the Brass Dragon Inn)
Aslan put up his shield, but immediately realized his error. As the fiery ray struck the shield, the heat was instantly transmitted through it to the paladin himself, who yelped in pain. What sounded like his own voice crying out in concert told him that Nodyath too had been hit. Not willing to trust his counterpart not to take a cheap shot at him if the opportunity permitted, Aslan began sidling slowly back towards the direction where he could hear Sbalt, Tojo and Argo all fighting, all the while keeping a defensive posture. He simultaneously hoped that someone else could come forth to engage the barbed devil and prayed that no one would, because that friend might meet a swift and terrible end.
Argo moved in again on Sbalt, swinging Harve but mostly feinting, helping Tojo to get another shot in. Understanding instinctively, Tojo drew his wakizashi and slashed with both swords at Sbalt, but only the katana scored another hit. Bleeding profusely now from both neck and torso, but still standing, Sbalt tore into Tojo with seeming no thought of personal safety, slashing the samurai twice with his greataxe, and now Tojo's blood mingled with that of both Sbalt and Argo, turning the snow into a dark red slush.
Without thinking twice, Elrohir vaulted off White Lightning, ignoring his steed's cry of surprise. "Stay back!" the ranger yelled over his shoulder before starting to trudge off towards the west. His hand gripped Gokasillion's hilt tightly. He still had his composite bow, but he knew the devil could teleport at will. Being caught at close range against that thing without a melee weapon in hand was instant death.
Perhaps even with one, he couldn't help but think, but a sound behind and to his right drew all his further attention. White Lightning having dispatched on her own the remaining brigand in front of Laertes, the half-orc was now moving up towards Elrohir, his more lightly-armored form making better time through the now foot-high snow than the ranger was.
"Stay back!" Elrohir yelled again. "These foes are too powerful for you!"
Laertes veered off to the right, and Elrohir thought the woodsman had obeyed him, but then realized that the half-orc was merely moving off to set up a flanking position against the devil. Elrohir screamed again at Laertes to retreat, but the latter's figure was already becoming indistinct in the swirling snow.
Cygnus came out of his turn into a strafing run, now facing towards the hamatula. First Laertes, and then what looked like two battling Aslans approached and receded thirty feet underneath Gylandir's beating wings. Concentrating for all he was worth, as soon as the tall figure of the fiend came into view, Cygnus took a deep breath, held out the iron flask and yelled out in Infernal.
"Return to your prison!"
There was no effect, except for an ugly, rasping sound from the fiend that Cygnus guessed was what Hell's laughter sounded like.
I should have known it wouldn't work, Cygnus berated himself, as his mind flashed back to the dungeons of Venom, where the evil archmage's disembodied voice had boomed out when Cygnus removed the iron flask from its pedestal. Venom set the command words himself, or at the least knew what they were. There'd be no reason for him to reveal the correct re-imprisoning phrase to any would-be robbers. A fitting end to any thief who dared to steal the flask- killed by his own purloined treasure.
Cygnus gritted his teeth, pulled a small glass rod and a bit of fur out of his spell component pouch, rubbed them against each other with the fingers of his left hand and pointed with his right.
A loud crack sounded as the lightning bolt leapt from the mage's hand. A bright flash filled his vision, but only for a moment. His heart seemed to sink down into his stomach though, as Cygnus could now see that the bolt had done little, if any, damage to the barbed devil. Worse, Cygnus was now bereft of any major offensive spells.
Zantac and Caroline Bigfellow both squinted through the snow at the sound of the lightning bolt, but they were both too far away to see anything.
"That must have been Cygnus!" Zantac yelled, still trying with all his might to stay on his horse and watching with admiration as Sequester reared up and dispatched the brigand in front of her without seeming to inconvenience Caroline in the slightest.
"Firing at who, do you think?" Caroline shouted back.
"If I'm right about how powerful a hamatula is," responded Zantac, "it's probably already killed Frill and Transdoor, and 'ol Ciggy can't pop him back into his bottle!"
"You think he killed it?"
"I'd be surprised if he scratched it," said Zantac, a grim expression on his face. "We don't have a prayer of defeating that thing!"
"We've got to try!" replied Caroline as she wheeled the pegasus around towards the west and urged Sequester back into the air.
Zantac cursed and did his best to turn his warhorse to follow, ignoring the brigand he had color sprayed, who was now clutching his eyes and blundering about in the snow. The mage dug his heels into his steed's flanks, and the animal responded with a burst of speed that caused Zantac to hang on for all he was worth.
Neither the devil nor Aslan was in sight, but the battling figures of Sbalt and Tojo soon came into view directly ahead. Argo, whom Zantac could see was grievously wounded even through the snow, trying to stay upright. Both Tojo and the Outlaw leader also bore serious wounds, but the samurai seemed worse off to Zantac, as unlikely as that scenario might be. The wizard yanked on the reins, and the warhorse obediently pulled up short.
Zantac quickly ran through his inventory of remaining spells. There weren't many.
The Willip wizard twisted his wrist and flicked his thumb towards Sbalt as if he were flinging a marble at him. A similarly-sized sphere of acid appeared and flew towards the barbarian, splattering against the side of his head. Sbalt screamed in pain and fury but did not relent in his assault against the samurai.
Perlial's shoe-shod hoof caved in the skull of the remaining bandit facing her and Nesco. The ranger grunted with satisfaction and used her knees to guide the warhorse westward where somewhere, she knew, the remaining battles were still going on.
White Lightning soon came into view, but there was no Elrohir astride her. Nesco frowned and brought the paladin's warhorse to a stop alongside the other steed. She could see her fellow ranger now, just ahead, looking both north and south. Apparently coming to a decision, Elrohir began trudging in the latter direction, towards where Sbalt apparently was. To the north, Nesco saw Laertes, also now on foot, moving off into the swirling snow.
Perlial, having just finished a conversation with White Lightning in the language of horses, inclined her head back around towards the ranger.
"Elrohir ordered White Lightning to remain here," the horse began, "but-"
"But nothing!" Lady Cynewine snapped. "Obey your master, White Lightning!" Nesco dismounted and began running towards her fellow ranger. "And that goes as well for you, Perlial!"
The warhorse managed to convey effrontery with a shake of her mane. "You are not my-"
"I am now! Aslan entrusted me with your very life, remember?" Nesco shouted back.
"Good call," Elrohir nodded as Nesco, huffing and kicking up clouds of snow, came up alongside him.
"I'm not sure too dangerous for them isn't too dangerous for us either, Elrohir," she replied, a grim smile on her face.
Elrohir nodded in agreement but said nothing.
"Cygnus, look out!"
While the mage could not fault his paladin friend for the instinctive scream, the warning was both unnecessary and in the end, futile. Cygnus saw the hamatula trudge forward, saw the spiked hand raise up and point towards him, and saw the twin beams of fire lash out and strike- not him, but Gylandir beneath him.
The pegasus screamed as his feathers burst into flame. Cygnus managed to hold on through the aerial bucking and spinning that followed him, but not by much.
Cygnus cursed himself for his hubris; for his ever thinking that he could possibly control this otherwordly evil that he had deliberately- deliberately- loosed from its prison and which now seemed destined to destroy them all. Aslan, the paladin whom everyone could not seem to stop chiding for his repressive attitudes, had been right all along. Cygnus prayed that he'd be given the opportunity to apologize to him.
The tall wizard could have leaned over the pegasus' flank and at least attempted to take one, if not both, of the scorching rays himself, but his failure to do so was based on calculation, not cowardice. At least, that's what Cygnus told himself as he wheeled Gylandir around one hundred and eighty degrees in the sky, moving away eastward as he urged the pegasus to start descending. Even one more ray would slay Gylandir outright and then Cygnus would be on foot, in the snow, alone. Easy prey.
He probably was, anyway, the mage mused. All of them were. But as he twisted around in his saddle and peered at the rapidly vanishing figure of the hamatula in the snowstorm, Cygnus was already calculating again. One last idea. One Last Chance.
In his fingers, the wizard now held a bit of fleece.
Argo Bigfellow Junior took one cautious step backward. And then another.
"Hey!" he yelled at Sbalt. "Come and take me out! Finish what you started, you big loser!"
The ranger was hoping that Tojo would get a strike at Sbalt's back as the Outlaw came for him, but the barbaric fighter made no change in his current choice of opponent. Apparently, Argo mused, Sbalt's rage didn't make him as stupid as Bigfellow had hoped. Not having much faith in the idea but lacking any other ones, Although it was difficult with his left arm barely responding to his will, Argo sheathed Harve, drew his composite bow, and notched an arrow, looking for the point where he could fire the missile and hopefully not kill his samurai friend if he missed.
Once again, Aslan and Nodyath's swords found their mark at the exact same moment.
Aslan grunted with pain as he swung his weapon around to the side, but Nodyath caught the blow on his shield. Then they were again trading blows, Aslan wondering if he looked as bad as his counterpart did to him.
Probably worse, he thought. Nodyath was an almost exact copy of himself, but their fighting styles were not a complete match. Nodyath was more aggressive than Aslan, who had learned to fight more defensively, keeping an eye out for friends who might need healing. Nodyath, who had already demonstrated that having and keeping friends was not his strong point, suffered no such limitation.
Nodyath feinted to the right and swung left but Aslan wasn't fooled. He deflected the blow and looked for his next opening.
From the corner of his eye, the paladin saw the barbed devil, now a mere ten feet away, smile- or what passed for a smile on that inhuman face- as a trail of smoke and the odor of burnt horseflesh marked the passage of Gylandir's retreat. He decided to try a different tack.
"Nodyath!" Aslan yelled, switching to a purely defensive posture now. "The fiend is almost upon us! We must join forces, or it'll slay us both!"
A harsh laugh came from his opponent.
"Are you that much a coward, paladin?" Nodyath replied, not letting up in his attacks. "Are you that afraid to die? I thought paladins were immune to fear!"
"Does your life mean so little to you?" Aslan persisted. "And what about your child? If Talat has not borne your issue yet, she will any day now! I thought children meant something to you!"
For a moment, Nodyath ceased his attacks. Aslan fixated on his counterpart's light blue eyes staring at him.
"If I survive," Nodyath said. "One day, many years from now, my son- for I know it will be such- will seek me out and find me. And if not…"
Nodyath's sword came in again. Fast.
"He'll find you!"
A loud chink interrupted the blow, and it went wild. Aslan wasn't sure how it had happened, but suddenly Laertes was ten feet behind Nodyath, trying valiantly but in vain to impale him with his longspear.
Argo never even had to shoot.
In the fraction of an instant that Sbalt's eyes had noticed what Argo was doing, Tojo had dropped his wakizashi into the snow. The samurai's grip on his katana changed from one-handed to two-handed even as the masterwork weapon was sweeping in. Sbalt tried to dodge, but the weapon's tip still slashed deeply across the Outlaw's abdomen. Sbalt roared with pain and rage, but even Argo could tell that the former was starting, at long last, to overpower the latter.
Argo looked beyond the battling pair. He could already see Zantac, dimly, still astride his warhorse about thirty feet away, as the red-robed mage awkwardly dismounted and cast.
And then there were six of him. Six Zantacs, all clutching quarterstaffs, all getting ready to advance upon Sbalt. Argo knew that all but one of the identical wizards were mirror images- mere figments, but the spell should prove even more distracting than his arrow.
Provided, of course, that Sbalt didn't get lucky and hit the real Zantac with his counterattack.
Another reinforcement then appeared, but this one bought no smile to Argo's face. It was his wife Caroline, swooping in on Sequester, aiming directly for Sbalt.
Argo screamed for Caroline to pull up, but with precise efficiency, Sequester missed Tojo by inches and plowed into the Outlaw leader. Both hooves and then Caroline's longsword struck true, and the mighty Sbalt was now a motionless corpse underneath the pegasus.
The big ranger shook his head and replaced his arrow in its quiver even as Elrohir and Nesco came clanking up. Caroline, beaming with pride, looked over at her husband, daring him with her expression to issue any kind of reprimand.
For his part, Argo Bigfellow could only shrug and say the only thing that came to mind even as he began to trudge towards the north.
"What took you so long, love?"
What the- Cygnus, no!
Even as the hamatula was extending its arms towards him, Aslan saw the tall mage reappear, still astride a wounded Gylandir, now a mere ten feet above the ground. With a great swoop of wings, the mage passed over the three combatants, Cygnus yelling out something unintelligible to Aslan's ears as he did so. The devil whirled and fired both rays at Gylandir again, but this time the pegasus nimbly, if barely, avoided them, and was swiftly lost westwards in the swirling snow. With a last growl at Aslan, the devil began to trudge after the retreating mage, and then was gone in a blast of smoke and brimstone, no doubt teleporting after its quarry.
Cygnus, you beautiful, manipulating, son-of-a-bitch. I pray to Odin you did what I think you just did.
There was no time for further reflection. Nodyath was pressing the attack again, ignoring Laertes. Aslan withdrew and healed himself fully, knowing as he did so that he was giving Nodyath the chance to do the same, which is exactly what happened. Aslan's Talent was all but spent now; perhaps a bit of healing or one polymorph left, but not enough for a teleport. As Nodyath had stated, this fight would be to the death.
Aslan launched himself at Nodyath again.
"Tojo! Don't!" Elrohir shouted at the samurai began to resolutely tread northwards. "You're too badly injured! We'll handle it!"
Tojo seemed to have gone deaf. Elrohir cursed and ran after him, but his armored bulk was making poorer time through the snowdrifts than the samurai was. Caroline dismounted from Sequester, whom Elrohir could see was wounded, and also headed north. The six Zantacs bought up the rear.
The tableau that came into view through the snow was not encouraging. There was no sign of either Cygnus or the barbed devil. With effort, Elrohir pushed away unpleasant thoughts of that, but two identical Aslans were locked in full battle, spinning and whirling away at each other. It was impossible to distinguish which was which, and Elrohir could see his companions still advancing. Knowing they wouldn't obey his order to just stop, he tried a different tack.
"Line formation!" he bellowed.
Thankfully, they all obeyed, coming to a stop some twenty to twenty-five feet from the fighting figures. Argo held the left flank, followed by Nesco, Caroline, Elrohir himself and Tojo. The multitude of Zantacs was just behind, while White Lightning and Perlial trotted into view just to the east. Elrohir could see Laertes standing off about ten feet to the east of the battling fighters.
"Laertes!" Elrohir shouted. "Which one?"
The half-orc shrugged in frustration. "I knew before, but I can't tell now!"
"Aslan!" Caroline yelled. "Tell us something only you would know!"
"No good, love," her husband interjected. "Nodyath still has his helm of telepathy."
"Where is Cygnus?" Nesco shouted out, to no one in particular.
"He came flying by, and the devil took off after him!" Laertes yelled back. "But he-"
"He's right here, everybody."
It seemed impossible, with their good friend Aslan locked in mortal combat with their hated enemy, for any pronouncement to distract everyone else present from that, but with those four words, Cygnus' tall, lanky form materialized out of the swirling snow to the north to stop beside Laertes.
"Minor image," the wizard explained. "Long story short, I bought us some time, but I can't say how much."
Tojo nodded with satisfaction, but then the samurai's head snapped to the right.
"Perriar-san!" he said. "Can you terr which is true Asran?"
The warhorse shook her head. "Not from here."
"Time is magic, Elrohir," came a chorus of voices behind the group leader. "This spell won't last long," six Zantacs pointed out, while tapping their feet.
"We've got to think!' Nesco cried out. "We can't just stand here while our friend fights for his life alone!"
From somewhere far off to the west came a loud, inhuman roar.
"Think faster, people," Argo said quietly.