Rumble in the Hall
Gantz came out of his guest chamber fully clothed once again. Head to toe in black, he gave a sigh of relief. As he strode out wrapping the black scarf over his dark hair and knotting it out the back, he found the hooded Beast Mistress tapping her foot impatiently. Her animals flanked her, one of the wolves and the panther seeming to share her impatience, while the other wolf was playfully rolling about on the floor.
She said nothing, however, as he exited, her aquamarine eyes simply taking him in in his full battle attire.
Gantz put his hands on the handles of his steel long-knives in their sheathes, one over each hip. "You know, little miss elf, I'm surprised you didn't say anything about me running around naked."
The elf woman gave a slight shrug. "You are human. Humans are fools."
He frowned. "Yeah, well, you're definitely an elf. You're snobby as any human noble."
The woman frowned back. "How did the panacea work?"
Gantz worked one of his shoulders. "Like a bloody charm."
She nodded. "Fine. If you are done blathering pointlessly, can we get on with this?"
He grunted. "I like blathering pointlessly. Its better than awkward silence any day."
She narrowed her bluish eyes at him through the eyeholes in her strange headdress. "And you feel awkward with me, do you?"
He just rolled his eyes and started walking. The elf followed him and the animals followed her. He shrugged, finally answering. "I guess you could say that, since every other bloody elf I've met so far has tried to put a blade in me."
She shook her head. "Well, I do hope that you can wrap your quaint human mind around the fact that there are two different kinds of elves in this world, and we are most certainly enemies."
He gave her an off-hand glance. "Sure thing, little miss elf."
The woman growled as she strode up to his side. "I would prefer if you didn't call me that."
"Oh Really? Then maybe you ought to be all friendly-like and tell me your name."
She gave him a scathing sideways glance at his sarcastic tone to which he replied with an insolent grin. "Fine, human, my name is Selena of the Glade. My companions are Sky, the eagle, Rumor, the panther, and Palom and Parom, the pair of wolves."
Gantz felt strange greeting animals, but nodded at each of those that were present. The eagle was still absent, but Gantz nodded toward the large sleek panther, moving at his mistress's side. The animal did not seem to notice. Gantz just shrugged and looked down at the wolves. Both were big gray timber wolves, and they flanked him. The one to his left looked up at him, and gave a seemingly polite bow of its head. The one to his right gazed up at him with its tongue lolling out.
Gantz was a little uncomfortable being surrounded by these predators – especially after he had seen them work – so he looked back at Selena. "Okay, well, fair is fair. I'm Gantz, the greatest thief in all Creation. I suppose I'm also the Chosen of the Crystal of the Wind, if you want to be really formal."
The woman sighed. "Well, I am certainly in awe of your humility, Sir Gantz."
He grinned toothily. "Humility never got me anywhere, especially in my line of work. And you can go ahead and drop that 'Sir', Selena. I ain't made for it."
The elf shook her head. "This must be what the Archdruid meant when she mentioned a great trial. I had thought it would be the battle against our Fallen Kin, but I see now that it will be putting up with you."
Gantz had to laugh. "Well, I aim to please."
The woman herself only grimaced. "Well, if you wish to please me now, we had best find where the dark elves have gone and fast."
The thief nodded. "I'm heading that way now. I've got a gut feeling that we need to get to the Great Hall as fast as we can." And he suddenly burst into a swift run.
He wasn't too surprised to see the woman keeping up with him, her animals loping by their sides. Gantz just nodded to himself as he sped forward.
IIIIIIIIII
It looked truly painful... the transformation...
Valor gave an involuntary shudder as he watched the horrid metamorphosis.
The Lord Sumpter Baigan huddled in on himself in anticipation, before a sudden roar of agony bellowed up out of him and his spine arched, his arms twisting and deforming, his uniform tearing at the sudden massive expansion of muscles gone beyond his control.
The roar deepened and twisted to a shriek, then back to a guttural rumbling like nothing human, switching back and forth in pitch and tone as the man himself grew slowly in a mass of writhing convulsions that caused him to bulge beyond his human dimensions. His uniform was soon completely torn away, his lower body then covered by a thick coarse hair, spines of darkened bone protruding from his ever thickening arms. The horrid crunching of bones breaking and reforming added to the grotesque mix until something emerged from the congealed whole. Four huge arms sprouted from a thick elongated torso, each ending in a massive fleshy spiked club. The thing arose on two hind-legs set atop mighty cloven hooves, nearly thirty feet tall, its wickedly horned head upon a neck so thick with bulging muscle that it seemed disproportionately small to the mighty body. Then the thing's flesh stopped convulsing, finally settling into thick ropes of corded muscle all about, undoubtedly granting it incomparable strength.
As it arose in its final form, the thing suddenly opened burning red eyes...
No one in the vast Great Hall had moved during the transformation, too stunned in shock and horror as the mighty demon suddenly reared back and gave a shuddering roar that reverberated off the high arched ceiling of the vast chamber.
Being the closest to it, Valor had had to look up as the thing had grown. His utter shock could not be dispelled, including a healthy terror that had infected him. It was an unholy spell that gripped his mind in a vice. He wanted to run. With all his might he wanted this, but could not bring himself to even look away as the thing towered over him, emitting its blasphemous wail.
Yet there was a seed within him that fought this hold. Then a voice within his very soul...
The Crystal cannot grant you courage you do not already possess, Chosen One. Remember, however, that the strength of the entire earth is within you. Remember that you are a Warrior of Light...
A female voice that sounded nearly like his mother's. Indeed, Aria Loftlan was not far behind him, along with nobles of the Great and Minor Houses. Sana Lynn was here too and every one of them in the path of this great dark monster that wreaked of brimstone and vilest evil.
Only he stood between it and them...
A sudden strength seemed to flow up from the ground beneath Valor's feet, and a sense of resolve as solid as granite overcame him, steeling his spine and quashing the terror in his mind that the monster emitted.
Valor took no backward step, but looked down as something clattered heavily at his feet. It was a monstrous two-handed axe, the one his father had kept in the armory as a prize from the time when his Order had slain a particularly huge rampaging ogre in the pocket provinces. Valor's father had kept it, but had never trained with it, of course. It took three men to lift the thing just high enough to carry around. No human being would ever be strong enough to use it in actual battle.
Valor glanced behind him. His mother stood with three of the burly horse-handlers from their estate. Valor recognized them all. Of course, the handlers' eyes were uneasy, all glancing at the monster before them. Aria Loftlan's gaze, however, held no fear, looking at the monster beyond Valor with only undisguised contempt.
The boy's brow knit and he nodded once, taking up the greataxe from the ground. He heard gasps from the horse-handlers, though they now looked at him, not the monster.
The young warrior looked back at the demon above him, hefting the mighty axe like it was nothing. The demon grinned wickedly down at him, its eyes burning as it brandished its bulbous mace-like hands.
Valor glanced quickly over his shoulder. "All of you back!" He then turned, his sapphire eyes hard as he sized up his foe. This would be no easy fight.
His grip tightened on the wooden hilt of the greataxe and his jaw clenched. "Now we dance, monster!"
IIIIIIIIII
Sana-Lynn could not help but tremble at the sheer immensity of the demon, quivering at its sudden unholy roar, which filled the Great Hall. What in the realm was Valor doing? He had to get away from that thing or it would crush him! Then she gasped again when Aria Loftlan's servants dropped the mighty axe at his feet, their burden obvious and cumbersome, yet Valor picked it up as it if weighed little.
Blessings of the Earth...
True spoke up beside her. "I had never imagined Baigan would abase himself this far. The man's ambition and foolishness were beyond even my suspicions."
A sudden inviolate disgust quickly swept away Sana's fear and her hazel eyes narrowed, the Holy humming within her. "He wreaks of evil, his soul swallowed by it!"
The rancor in her words surprised True, but he unsheathed his rapier with a faint rasp. "We have our own foes to deal with first, Sana-Lynn, then we may aid Valor. He will have to watch himself for now."
That much was true. With righteous anger suddenly burning within her, Sana spoke the words beneath her breath and the crook of her white staff suddenly glowed. "Ready yourself, True, I am casting."
With their master's transformation complete, the dozen dark-clad figures at the doors suddenly launched toward the duo, having guessed correctly that they were greatest threat in the Hall. True held his rapier ready in one white-gloved hand, settling his red hat securely with the other.
The black-clad figures moved with inhuman speed, yet Sana took a step forward to meet them, her staff high above her head. It suddenly flared with blinding radiance.
Each black-clad figure suddenly stopped in their tracks, dropping their twin swords, hands to their faces, as they writhed in pain. Yet they emitted no sounds despite their apparent agony.
As soon as the light died, True flowed in with his razor-sharp rapier, his scarlet cape fluttering behind as he executed precise strikes with his blade. He thrust the first elf through the heart. The creature convulsed once before collapsing, and True moved again, slashing others across the throat, then pivoting to thrust one through the eye. Immobilized by their pain, the dark elf assassins were unable to fight back, and eleven died to True Herring's rapier. The last, however, managed to shake off the effects with just enough time to flip back out of striking range. It moved with incredible speed, landing on its feet.
Knowing he had lost his advantage, True readied for the rush, but the dark elf was passed him before he could even acknowledge its movement – passed him and heading right for Sana Lynn; ready to skewer her with its wicked scimitar before she could even respond.
Having not wanted to do this, True dropped all pretenses and muttered the spell under his breath. He held out his free hand as electric blue runes circled his wrist. In an eye-blink, a crackling surge of lightning shot from his free hand, striking the dark elf in the back and burning a gaping hole in its torso. With its momentum, the body struck the floor, sliding up to stop at Sana's feet. Stunned by the creature's inhuman speed, the girl gaped at its corpse, smelling the char of its singed flesh.
Somehow she managed a glance up at True. "T-That was black magic!"
True gave a precise nod as he came up to her. "Indeed it was, my vision, indeed it was."
Yet they had no time for further conversation. The rumble in the Hall had begun in earnest.
IIIIIIIIII
The Headmaster of the Order of the White Staff, Dalton Samar, knelt over the Lord Oster Arlington, as the knight shuddered in pain, the crossbow bolt still lodged in his shoulder. It was wickedly barbed and could not be removed easily. However, that was not the worst of it. A quick magical diagnosis revealed that the head of the bolt had been dipped in the deadliest of poisons, Demon's Blood. Of course, from the unholy transformation, Dalton now knew where Baigan had gained such a poison.
The old white mage gritted his teeth. It would take all his power and concentration to counter such a poison, and Dalton would not be able to aid the youths as they fought the fiend in the Great Hall.
It was all up them now. That was what fate had decreed.