Well, this took forever to upload. I apologize for that, I feel kinda awful. On the bright side, it bloated into a monster of a chapter, which I hope you'll like. I'm kinda worried that you'll think this drags on, but I think it came out pretty well in the end and I don't think it would be right to cut out stuff. So here you have a double-length chapter.
Also, still own nothing. I'm a regular Jon Snow of property rights.
Chasing Through Hell
Dark Depths
Past the broken gate and the mangled remains of the fel orcs who'd stood behind it, the hallway opened up, widening to double the width it had been on the other side of the gate and the ceiling rose higher as the floor sloped downwards, but Maurus felt as strangled as he would have squeezing himself through a narrow tunnel. The hallway's size was countered by the oppressive architecture, only partially revealed by massive braziers placed so far apart that there were expanses of shadow as large as the lit areas that divided them and neither the sullen, purplish light of the braziers nor the Horde soldiers' own lights reached the ceiling above. It left the troops walking through shifting shadow and light, beneath solid, heavy darkness, within which anything could be hiding.
The air was thick and stagnant, heavy with the smell of sweat, blood, metal and fire and permeating it all was the acrid stench of the demonic, so strong that Maurus felt as nauseous as he had the first time he'd felt demonic magic, back when he'd never have thought he could become used to a land where the air itself was corrupted. Shrieks, booms and other sounds of battle followed them in, almost as physical a force as the press of bodies and a few dozen steps past the gate, another primal roar rose from within the Citadel, clashing with the sounds from behind like two colliding gusts of air.
The only silver lining was that the advance was quicker than the fel orcs probably expected. Without the bound infernal as a battering ram, they would probably have been stopped or at least slowed by the barricaded defensive position a little further in. Instead, the fel orcs broke almost immediately, barricade smashed and a third of them burnt or crushed even before the Horde soldiers engaged them.
Maurus saw the fight over the heads of Commander Krunk's elites, revealed in flashes of light and the dull glow of the infernal and felt slightly bitter that he was stuck further back. Despite the chaos of the battle, he was itching for violence, for dealing with something tangible instead of simply watching and worrying about the darkness above him.
His worry was justified a moment later. From close behind came heavy splashes and a series of sickening sizzling sounds, which were immediately drowned out by the screams and Maurus simply knew that the burning oil would had hit his own comrades if they had been stopped by the barricade. Instead they had come just far enough ahead that it had come down on some other unfortunates and his nausea grew a bit for feeling glad that the oil hit them and not him.
"If anyone sees anything, share it," he ordered, as they hurried along behind Krunk's soldiers, scanning the darkness above. He shifted his axe and tugged his shield off his back and felt it scrape against the stirrups still dangling there.
"Arianna, can your green orb get up there?" he asked. A thought occurred to him and he shrugged a shoulder, interrupting Arianna's response as he added: "Widget, get up."
"Ye-" Arianna began again, but she was interrupted when a fireball streaked up from the middle of Krunks' group and exploded with a hiss against the ceiling. The flash of light revealed several grates, set at odd intervals in the ceiling and ledges running along just a little below it, high enough that they vanished from sight as the fireball faded.
"Druids, sappers! Get up there!" Krunk shouted, as the infernal ahead crashed into another barricade and more splashes sounded behind Maurus. More pained, scared cries sounded out, though neither those from behind or those from up ahead sounded as desperate and it looked to Maurus like the infernal was moving more sluggishly now. A rustle of feathered wings and several high-pitched yelps told Maurus that the commander's orders were being obeyed.
A moment later, he felt the tug of Widget's small weight as she scrambled up his back and settled her feet in the stirrups again, peering over his shoulder, getting as much of her body as she could beneath his upraised shield.
"Thought you'd forgotten me," she said. Her words came as fast as they had when she was watching the infernals come down, but her tone was exaggeratedly chipper, rather than flat-out terrified. Maurus had little doubt that she was still scared half out of her wits though, especially now that she had neither gun nor explosives.
"Almost," he said, almost biting off the word. It wasn't entirely untrue. She, and more importantly, her short legs, had slipped his mind as they ran inside and her weight on his back was a slight relief, assuring him that she was in no danger of getting stepped on or left behind.
He felt a light smack on his right arm and glanced to the side as Arianna squeezed between him and Calen. In a firm and irritated tone of voice that told him she wasn't expecting to be interrupted again, she said: "It can. But I can't-"
"-run at the same time," Maurus finished for her, finding the slightest bit of amusement in the brief narrowing of her eyes. He held up his axe over his shoulder and continued: "Hold this."
Widget huffed somewhat disgruntledly, but accepted the weapon, angling it so he could feel its handle across his back. With his now free arm, he reached out, deliberately ignoring a sudden feeling of self-consciousness, and picked Arianna up. She tensed for a moment, but didn't protest or squirm and almost immediately adjusted herself so she was leaning against him, nestled in the crook of his arm.
"You'll take any-" Widget began, voice fast and teasing, but the rest of her words were drowned out by explosions from above. Maurus tensed and for a few panicked heartbeats, expected the ceiling to come crashing down on them, but when just a light spray of pulverized rock pattered against his shield, he relaxed slightly.
"Just sappers," Widget said casually, confirming Maurus' guess, as Arianna conjured her spying orb and sent it floating up toward the ceiling. Its sickly green glow, a shade duller than the light the infernal gave off, revealed some of the ledge and caught the loping shape of a druid in cat form, turning it eerie and ghostly.
"On your guard," Krunk called out as they reached an intersection. The light in the main hallway revealed only a little of the crossing corridor, which looked much the same as the corridor they were in, though narrower and curved, most likely following the contour of the outer wall. Instead of easing the cramped feeling Maurus had, it added a somewhat paradoxical feeling of exposure to his claustrophobic unease.
They were almost across the intersection when the infernal stopped dead, forcing Krunk and his elites to come to an abrupt halt. Beyond it, another barricade blocked the hallway and the fel orcs on the other side was lit from behind by the twisting green light from several warlocks standing in the middle of the armored fel orcs.
The infernal turned, the flaming white bands around its torso vanishing. It didn't manage to finish the motion before casters sent a stream of magic towards it and several elementals rose from the floor and threw themselves at it.
At the same time, the darkness on either side seemed to surge and roil before relinquishing its grasp on the feral beasts that bounded forward. Fel hounds and the massive, slavering wolves of the fel orcs came forward in a wave of frenzied fangs and claws, leaping at both sides of Maurus' unit, growling and biting.
"Close ranks. Protect the casters," Maurus shouted, dropping Arianna, who landed on her feet, her hands already flying into the motion of a spell. He drew his mace, stepping between her and one of the wolves, bashing his shield into its snout and kicking at a small felhunter trying to get past him to the casters. The rest of the warriors immediately obeyed his orders, forming a solid wall of steel. It was less steady than it should be, because the pressure of all the soldiers behind them forced them to keep moving, but it still repelled the beasts.
There was a distinctive flash of pale green in the gloom behind the beasts and based on instinct and dim recognition, Maurus shouted: "Fight their magic. Stand fast!"
He didn't know if it was because of him, but out the corner of his eye, he saw Zrahi recover from a faltering, almost cowering step she'd taken backward.
"Above!" Widget shrieked in his ear and his head snapped up. He sucked in a breath and brought both his arms up in front of him, jerking back as figures fell from the gloomy above. They were clad head to toe in dark leather and cloth, and only thin lines of red and their green eyes revealed them as fel orcs. In their hands they held long, thin daggers and it was only thanks to Widget's warning that their surprise attack wasn't devastating. The fel orc rogue descending on Maurus landed with his chest on his shield, but apparently didn't let the pain even distract him and if Maurus hadn't drawn back as well, the twin stilettos would have stabbed right into his eyes. Instead, they clanged off his helmet, and for a few moments, his was completely focused on the fel orc. He barely avoided most of the stabs, feeling a point of cold steel slip into the mail below his shoulder, before he finally managed to smack the fel orc in the side and thrust forward the shield, hurling him into the hounds.
Freed from the fel orc, his attention shifted back to the wolves and fel hounds and for a short, tense while, he concentrated fully on keeping the formation steady against the hounds and the press from the soldiers behind, while the casters behind him dealt most of the damage to the hounds. Then the attack let up as suddenly as it had begun, the remaining beasts slinking back into the darkness.
He looked around and saw to his pride and relief that his comrades had withstood the attacks, though it was soured when he saw a still, robed form. The face of the downed shadowpriest was ruined, the bloody, empty eye sockets dark and accusing in the flickering torchlights. Ahead, Krunk's group began moving again.
"Wounds?" he asked. There was a chorus of negative answers and he turned to follow Krunk before he heard a snarl. Glancing toward the sound, he found Shayla and the succubus facing each other. Through the slit in Shayla's helmet, he could see she was baring her teeth and her eyes were narrow and angry. The succubus looked lazily condescending, standing between Shayla and a fel orc who looked like he was coming out of unconsciousness.
"Move, filth," Shayla hissed. Maurus stomped forward, feeling his jaw clench as he wondered what the demon was thinking. Warlocks and bound demons were already unpopular enough without the demons getting in the way like this.
As if sensing that they weren't going to move right that instant, the group drew closer to the side Shayla and the succubus was on, letting the soldiers behind pass by them.
"We don't-" he began, but Arianna interrupted him, voice intent: "Let him live. We can use him."
Shayla's narrowed eyes flicked to Arianna, just as deeply suspicious, before finding Maurus' own. There was a testy question in her gaze and Maurus opened his mouth to reply, sensing the hostility of the rest of the group.
"We'll get him to tell us everything. Right, Mistress?" the succubus said, in a tone that sounded lustful and expectant and Maurus reconsidered. He turned to Arianna.
"Really?" he asked, placing his mace in his belt again and placing his shield on his back, slightly awkwardly because of Widget. Arianna nodded and pulled off her helmet.
"Pick him up, we can work while we walk. Try not to hurt him while we do."
Suppressing a sigh and ignoring the weight of several sullen looks, he took his axe from Widget, bent down and picked up the fel orc.
"Form up," he ordered firmly, placing his axe underneath the arms of the fel orc so his feet were off the ground and his back was against Maurus' chest. He took up position at the center of the formation, with Arianna and the succubus just in front of him on either side.
Mathias and Calen gave each other a look as they stepped into the gap Maurus' absence created, but otherwise didn't show any misgivings, unlike the shamans on either side of Maurus. He gave them both hard looks and then the group began moving, now further back from Krunk's elites.
The fel orc jerked awake when the succubus touched his face, drawing the black cloth away and exposing the red skin. He only struggled for a moment before he relaxed markedly, at the same time that Maurus felt a pleasant, soft heat slither through his own body. He felt his wariness recede slightly and the harsh, unpleasant surroundings seemed to turn softer, less threatening. The heat pooled in his belly and loins, growing sharper as the succubus and Arianna drew in very close to the fel orc and as a result, very close to him.
"Good morning, big guy," the succubus purred softly and Maurus felt the fel orc inhaling deeply, before he tried to look around. That brought his gaze over to Arianna, who caught the fel orc's gaze and murmured, in much the same tone as her succubus: "Don't mind the others. They're unimportant."
The fel orc groaned incoherently as Arianna and the succubus placed a hand on his sides, fingers digging into the leather. Maurus found himself feeling jealous of the attention, the dark-lidded, intense gazes, that was aimed at the fel orc.
"We have a problem," the succubus continued breathily and the fel orc helplessly shifted his gaze to her.
"We want to go to the deepest chamber," Arianna said, drawing her hand up along the fel orc's chest. "But there are a lot of people in the way."
"We would like," the succubus added, giving the fel orc a half-lidded stare and slipping her tail beneath the fel orc's vest, "to find a quieter way."
"Somewhere private," Arianna said meaningfully, her hand snaking around the fel orc's neck, "would make us very happy."
"Do you know somewhere like that?" the succubus asked with mock innocence.
"The stables," the fel orc said, his voice low with desire. "Through the dorms, the labs, and then you're there."
"Are those empty?" Arianna asked.
"We wouldn't want to be disturbed," the succubus added smoothly.
"No," the fel orc murmured. "The warchief has taken the riders out. Most the peons that didn't die because of the elves' experiments are on duty."
Arianna's hand jerked back from the fel orc and her languid expression wavered for a moment. The succubus gripped the fel orc's chin and forced it toward her instead.
"That's good," she murmured, her mouth only inches from the fel orc's. "How exactly do we do?"
A series of instructions rolled off the fel orc's eager tongue and when he was finished, it was Arianna that spoke again, her expression and voice under control again: "Who are in those hallways?"
The orc hesitated. Maurus felt a surge of hard heat as the succubus trailed her other hand down the fel orc's chest. That seemed to do the trick. "Just patrols. Warlocks and rogues up top."
The succubus turned her sensual gaze to Arianna.
"Satisfied?" she asked.
Arianna nodded, her face falling into the more familiar, calm and slightly reserved expression. The succubus smiled a wicked, red smile and leaned in to the fel orc. Maurus could feel the fel orc leaning forward, tense and expectant and he caught a hint of alarm in Arianna's eyes as they flicked up to meet his.
"No," the succubus murmured, soft and warm. There was a tearing sound followed by a gasping, wet gurgle and when the succubus leaned away from the fel orc, her chest and neck was splattered with blood, a much more solid layer than the scattered streaks that marked most of her body.
The satisfied smile on the succubus' face, the contrast between her sensual aura and her sudden bloody violence completely broke the spell and all the worry and fear surged back to full strength inside him along with a thick nausea in his belly and throat. He swallowed and was not at all soothed when the succubus turned her smoldering gaze on him and said in the same tone: "I think you can drop that now."
She ran her bloody fingers down Maurus' arm, making his belly flip again, before turning around and moving to Arianna's side. Maurus glanced aside and Slavi paused a moment, allowing him to throw the dying fel orc to the side.
"Was that necessary?" Arianna asked, a little tightly, leaning a little away from the succubus when she tried to slip an arm around her.
"You don't usually mind when-" the succubus teased.
"Be silent," Arianna warned and the succubus obeyed, looking both surprised and amused.
Deciding to ignore the exchange and his own unease, Maurus ordered the soldiers to stay where they were in the line and hurried ahead along with Arianna to relay the information to Commander Krunk.
They reached him just after another skirmish, at another intersection just like the previous one and Maurus was surprised at how easily Krunk trusted the information. A few grueling minutes of tense advance and swift battles later, Maurus followed Krunk as he led about half of the soldiers along a hallway that went back out and up.
"If this leads to disaster, it is on your head," Shayla told him grimly, but it went surprisingly smoothly. Druids acted vanguard, scouting out ahead along the ledges above and Arianna's orb flew out into the darkness along the floor and that allowed them to get the drop on the patrols they encountered. It was lucky that they had got the directions, because now that they had left the straight corridor, the rest of the Citadel's lower reaches was a maze of dark hallways, empty but terrifying, doubly so because of the agonized bellows that rolled through the hallways. Avoiding most of the encounters was much safer, but the lack of fighting made it hard for Maurus to ignore the pressure of the stone and darkness over his head and the certainty that they were looking for whatever was howling like that didn't make him any more confident. It was all he could do to keep a brave face.
He was glad for Widget's quiet chattering, even if he was uncomfortable with her lightheartedly commenting on the interrogation and how she'd caught the edge of the succubus' magic as well. It was a welcome distraction from the suspicious looks his comrades gave him, now that he was carrying Arianna again and his own idle, irritated speculation on why Arianna was so adept at working with the succubus.
It took a while before change in the surroundings pushed all that in the background. The heavy, earthy smell of animals met his nose and soon after, they came out into a massive hall. There were hundreds of pens, all empty and mostly shrouded in darkness, but they could see by the weak light that reached this far in from the huge, open gate on the far side from them. Through it, past the infernals patrolling the courtyard, he could see that the gate in the outer walls was open.
He hastily turned away, following Arianna's instructions to the back of the stables, where narrow corridors, only wide enough for maybe two tauren, lead away from the empty stables. In front of the each of the doors lay a number of armored orcs who looked like they had been taken by surprise. Seeing that the druids were enough to scout ahead in the smaller hallways, he put Arianna down and reclaimed his spot at the between Mathias and Calen, who seemed to relax slightly at his presence.
Behind the stables, as the fel orc had said, were living quarters and Maurus couldn't help but feel a stab of pity for whoever lived there and a surge of disgust for their masters. The rooms were low and square, and animal skins and straw were spread out along the walls in a fashion that gave Maurus the impression that the room was usually cramped. Gnawed bones and some meager possessions lay here and there, mostly small weapons, skulls and trinkets of carved bone, wood and stone. There was a strong stench of filth and sweat and rot, worse than that of the pens, like greater care was shown to the animals than those that lived here.
But what truly turned Maurus' stomach was the cages in each corner and the pit in the center of the room. It was carved into the stone, maybe two feet deep and about fifteen feet across. It was lined with inward-facing spikes, of bone, wood and metal, and the sand coating the floor was a red that was almost black, and lumpy, clinging together unlike dry sand.
They didn't pause to study the rooms though, moving as fast as they could through the living quarters, each of which looked much like the first one. They were almost all empty and the few that weren't were silent when Maurus reached them, the druid vanguard having quickly and quietly killed their occupants.
Most of them anyway. It didn't escape his notice that a few of the dead fel orcs lay on the rough skins, unbloodied, but dead, like they'd simply never woken up. Without the armor, he could tell with certainty that fel orcs in these quarters were smaller than the raiders he'd encountered during the previous week and though they were obscenely muscled and almost deformed, like their muscles had pulled their bodies crooked, there was something about their features and their limbs that made him swallow in uneasily.
"Children," Gor growled, confirming Maurus' worst fears and igniting the tension that had been smoldering in the group. Widget let out a wordless, almost-whine and low growls erupted around Maurus as he realized what the dead fel orcs reminded him of: The young orcs in Razor Hill and in the Crossroads, those old enough to hunt bigger game but not old enough to war just yet, even if the fel orcs significantly bigger.
He found himself miserably wondering how many on the wall had been years younger than their size indicated and it helped little that they had been trying to kill him. Glancing to his sides, he saw Mathias looking even more tense than usual and there had crept a stomp into Calen's step that wasn't there before. At first glance, Arianna looked as composed as she could in battle, but she had a far-off look in her eyes, which were set straight ahead, only straying when he almost caught her gaze.
Fuming with outrage, they pressed on and quickly left the living quarters, going by dark corridors in much the same style as the hallways before they reached what must be the labs and Maurus found he had not yet seen all the horrors Hellfire Citadel had to offer.
The difference between the laboratory and the halls behind was like stepping from a cool room into an oven, only it was the suffocating feeling of demonic corruption instead of heat. Again, he was reminded of the caves beyond Demonfall Canyon, though where the sacrificial chamber there felt like death and emptiness, these rooms here were steeped in pain and rage and where that chamber had brought to mind the darkest perversion of ritual magic, these rooms made him think of the alchemy labs in the Cleft of Shadows and horror stories he'd heard of laboratories in the Eastern Kingdoms. Light from many braziers flickered and danced in the steel and glass that seemed to be adorn every surface. There were cages and chains along the walls, a dozen tables with metal restraints in a row at the center of the room and on the oddly elegant tables throughout the room, hooks and needles lay between flasks, beakers and other, stranger glass creations that Maurus would have found beautiful in any other place. Here and there, dark, gaping doorways or solid steel doors, equally foreboding, lead away from the main path and Maurus had a flash of the same fear as he'd had when he was very small and still feared the caves in Mulgore.
As if in mocking welcome, the beast below howled again and Maurus was sure he saw the glass and the needles shake in the onslaught of sound.
Without Krunk and his elites leading the way, Maurus might have stopped there. He felt like vomiting, like shouting out his outrage and like collapsing into a heap. He wasn't the only one, judging by how the growls had stopped and the men and women around him paused briefly before pressing forward in grim, somber silence.
As they did, Maurus glanced around his group, half for something to distract himself with. Mathias looked moments from violence, but he also revealed something like idle curiosity at the surroundings, tilting his head slightly as his eyes scanned the rooms. Widget had gone completely still on his shoulder and the trolls and orcs surrounding him simply radiated outrage, lowering their shoulders as if in anticipation for a charge. The succubus was the only one who looked at ease, even intrigued, and he hastily looked away, again put off by the dissonance between how much she looked like Arianna and how alien her actions were.
His eyes found Calen and Arianna and they caught his attention. Calen was plainly inspecting the room, eyes wide and Arianna did as well, though more subtly, her eyes troubled.
Following her gaze, he looked at one of the tables as they passed, one piled high with odd, twisted glass. Like many of the tables without restraints, this one had a sleek, elegant look to it that was at odds with the simpler, harder architecture and the rough craftsmanship of the chains and manacles surrounding them. Most of the glass and most of the chairs had smooth, graceful lines as well and on second thought, the latter looked oddly narrow for orcs.
It didn't take much thought to put the pieces together and as they hurried down the ghastly, thankfully empty rooms, he thought he could see some similarity between the furniture and the night elf dwellings he'd seen in Stonetalon and Ashenvale.
He reached back and nudged Arianna and her head snapped to him, eyes growing hard and defiant. Pushing through the twinge of hurt at her reaction, he said, confident that Calen wouldn't miss it either: "Stay sharp now, elf."
She hesitated for a heartbeat before giving him a stiff nod and he turned away, satisfied for the moment, deciding he had plenty to go over, later.
They went through the labs without meeting opposition and came out in a hallway that curved sharply, going down like a ramp. If possible, the air was worse here, and Maurus swore he could feel the corruption seeping into his fur and skin as the air billowed around him, like the stinking breath of great beast. The impression was only heightened when another roar rolled through the corridor, earsplittingly loud and he had to fight off the urge to scrub himself to get rid of the feeling of having been tainted and fight the nausea that pressed up in his throat from his stomach.
He could see some of the same reaction on those around him. Calen looked to be breathing carefully and he heard several of the trolls behind him gag as they followed the descending corridor, though they were soon drowned out by the rumbling vibration of many deep voices. At first they seemed to be just rumbling and growling, but as Maurus got closer, he thought he recognized something in the chant.
He glanced at Arianna and she nodded. "We're here. Prepare yourself," she said quietly. There was a slight quiver in the last two words and she gripped her staff so hard that her hand trembled slightly. The rest of his comrades looked equally tense, if not more so, hands tight on their weapons, faces pale beneath their helmets if he judged it correctly.
"Now we save the day," Maurus said, in a low tone that still managed to carry to his comrades. His words were answered with clearly nervous chuckles and the tension eased minutely.
Sounds of surprise and battle came from ahead and Krunk gestured with his large axe, bellowing: "Lok'tar ogar!"
Everyone burst into motion, charging forward. Directly opposite them, a corridor mirrored theirs, rising and curving out of sight. The ramps ended at either side of a wide stone path, which vanished into darkness to the right and lead to a huge doorway to the left, through which Maurus could see an absolutely massive chamber, judging by the curved section of wall he spotted as he ran.
Druids, in the form of bears and great cats, were engaged with a small group of armored fel orcs, who were struggling, obviously having been taken by surprise. One of the fel orcs made the fatal mistake of turning to face the new enemies and a big, dark furred cat dislodged his helmet and ripped out his throat.
The rest managed to recover and withdrew, stopping in the huge gateway and bracing for the impact of the Horde soldiers.
Maurus hardly noticed Krunk hitting the fel orcs's line or the Horde soldiers streaming past him in the opposite direction, toward where the other part of the force must still be. He almost tripped when he looked over their heads into the massive circular chamber.
It was a simple room, as big as the arena in Orgrimmar, fighting pit and stands both, but except for two ramps along the walls opposite Maurus, the entire room was on one level. The walls, smooth stone but for the lines of metal, rose high above his head, reaching to many times his height and shaping into a dome at the top.
There were over a hundred fel orcs in the room, arranged in concentric circles, everyone but those closest to Maurus still chanting in mad, oblivious fervor. A good third of them wore dark robes while the rest only wore trousers, fully displaying their twisted bodies and the bony growths that had sprouted from their bodies.
It was what stood at the center of the room, that had caught Maurus' attention and almost caused him to fall over his own hooves. Almost on its knees, bound with heavy chains that held its head down, its tail immobilized and its arms stretched out to either side, was the biggest creature Maurus had ever seen, a small mountain of bulky muscle covered by grey, scaly skin. It had the same body structure as a centaur, but its lower body looked like that of a thunder lizard or how he'd heard dragons described, with clawed feet and rows of spikes along the back, while the torso, sitting where the head of a thunder lizard would be, was like that of the fiends fiends writ large, without the mouth in the belly. Shredded batwings, as big as small sails, lay limply along its back, also wrapped in chains. The squashed face was half-way between that of an orc and a skull, though the thick jowls beneath the jaw reminded him of ogres and the two rows of fangs reminded him mostly of sharks. Two thick tusks jutted from either side its face, curling into half-loops that could easily encircle an orc and bony spines lined the two thick ridges along the top of its head. Between those ridges, a mane of weakly burning green flame sprouted, running down along its neck and back. The same flame blazed in its eyes, mouth and nostrils and fell in drops of liquid fire from the glowing wounds, no, symbols, that had been carved all over its skin.
Symbols he'd seen in Ashenvale, on the bodies of two people Ven'Zarul had sacrificed.
"Pit lord," he gasped, recognizing the shape of the demon, particularly noticing the tusks. He'd seen the skull of Mannoroth, on the massive tree outside Grommash Hold, and been awed by the size of the demon Hellscream had vanquished. But where the skull and armor of Manneroth had been set up onto the tree so it gave the illusion of an implacable, almost invincible foe, this pit lord, bound, unarmored and unarmed, struggled and trembled like a half-mad beast, though it was no less terrifying.
"I see him," Mathias said, each word dripping naked hatred. Maurus glanced at him in confusion, followed his gaze and felt a shock go through him.
The two ramps opposite the main entrance led to a platform that allowed the two standing on it, with their back to the small gate up there, a view of the entire chamber. One, a large orc by the looks of it, completely hidden in ornate black and red robes, stood on the edge of the platform, hand outstretched and shining with fel magic.
The other was Ven'Zarul. The dreadlord stood twelve foot tall and was covered in sleek, black armor from his hooves to his neck, which gleamed like his single ink-black horn in the flickering light of the room. He was leaning forward, like an eager spectator, drinking in the sight, but a heartbeat later, he rose to his full height in an instant, his pale wings snapping out to the sides as his attention shifted from the pit lord to the Horde soldiers pouring into the chamber.
That was all the time Maurus had to study the dreadlord though, before his unit moved to the left of Krunk's and the closest fel orcs noticed them. He heard Ven'Zarul when he spoke though, voice rolling easily through the weakening chant.
"Show you are worthy of the Fel Horde. Tear them apart!"
With that, every single fel orc without robes turned their eyes on the Horde soldiers and charged. Their voices rose in feral undulating snarls that only grew louder when a tide of red mist spread among them and caused bloody foam to spill out between their jagged teeth.
Maurus and several dozen other voices screamed back in challenge, and in Maurus' case at least, in disgust, as he noticed that a good number of the fel orcs were as young as the corpses in the living quarters.
Then he had no more time to think as the tide of red skin fell on them, fighting as much with tooth and claw as with weapons. There was something different about these fel orcs, and it took a moment before he realized what it was. They seemed faster and definitely tougher. One utterly ignored it when Maurus' axe tore into his face, ripping and breaking almost all his teeth, instead spitting into Maurus' eye and in that instant of stunned half-blindness, the fel orc's claws almost found his other eye. Only a fierce headbutt saved his eye, making the claws scrape along his protected neck instead of into his eyes and even that hardly fazed the fel orc. Another blocked several of Maurus' strokes with her arm, and he felt the bones break each time, to no visible effect on her ferocity. Only when Calen's hammer struck her in the temple did she collapse and the next orc immediately filled her place.
What should have been a sweeping advance, in light of their opponents unpreparedness and lack of armor, instead ground to a halt in the shadow of the groaning pit lord. Maurus' group was doing well, mostly thanks to Arianna, who put down one fel orc after another with surprising ease, burning them with fel fire and cursing them with magic that made their muscles wither and their bones grow brittle.
Maurus held back a fel orc with his axe, long enough for Mathias to flick his sword out, severing the fel orc's spine at the base of his skull, when he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. Ven'Zarul came soaring through the air, his teeth bared in a sinister smile, and with a gesture, sent a greenish cloud of insects out ahead of him. The swarm hit a group of Horde to Maurus' left a moment before the dreadlord landed and tore into his enemies with startling speed for someone that large.
"Eye on the dreadlord," he called out over the din of battle and then had to strike out twice with the knob of his axe to push back two more fel orcs who were getting too close for comfort.
Not long after, a shadow passed over them as Ven'zarul leapt to another group a dozen yards away, this time letting a stream of wailing green precede him. Maurus hated the dreadlord even more as he saw six Horde soldiers collapse and immediately be set upon by fel orcs.
He only had time for that instant glimpse, because the fel orcs threw themselves at him with renewed effort and as he pushed one over into the fel orc fighting Mathias, he could have sworn he saw the wound on the fel orc's arm healing even as it stumbled. A few moments later, he drew a long line of blood along the chest of a different fel orc, only to see the shallow cut merge shut again. The dark bloom as fire took hold of the fel orc's insides made him stumble though and Maurus just pushed him back into his comrades, already discounting him as a threat. He desperately hacked around him, trying to prevent the fel orcs from getting so close that he would have trouble swinging the axe, resorting to bone-splitting kicks and desperate pushes several times.
He definitely would have been overwhelmed without the others, but with them, he was able to keep them at bay. A powerful sweep of his axe took off the head of one fel orc and buried the weapon in another's chest and suddenly, there were no fel orcs in front of him. His group was half-way across the room and there were still chanting warlocks and a number of half-naked orcs ahead of them, but they almost had a clear line to one of the ramps and chief warlock up there.
Another flutter of motion caught his eye and he looked up and to the right, cold surging through him as he saw Ven'Zarul flying through the air toward him. He pointed at the dreadlord and barked, voice loud with urgency and fear: "Fire! Now!"
It worked. A cloud of fire rolled up, devouring the swarm of bugs that streamed from Ven'Zarul's outstretched hand. It didn't deter him though and the dreadlord landed beside Calen with a sharp clack of hooves. Almost double Maurus' height, he towered over the elf, a monstrous giant in black armor.
"Paladin," Ven'Zarul hissed, contempt and hate sizzling in his voice. Maurus swept his axe up at the dreadlord, but he curled a wing around himself and though the axe tore through the surprisingly sturdy membrane, the weakened blow clanged harmlessly off the armor as Ven'Zarul lashed out at Calen with blinding speed. Calen jerked back, but not fast enough and he screamed when the blow connected. Blood and shattered chain rings flew through the air as the dreadlord's dagger-like claws opened the chainmail beneath his weapon arm and punched right through his shoulder and pauldron, destroying bone and flesh.
Feeling a spike of hot rage and worry, Maurus roared and swept his axe at Ven'Zarul again, but missed by a foot when the dreadlord stepped back, yanking his hand from Calen, causing the elf to stumble to the ground beside his dropped hammer.
Ven'Zarul's burning eyes found Maurus' and his mouth split in a sinister smile.
"You're very persistent," he said mockingly, sidestepping Maurus' overhead swing, in the same motion flicking out a wing and dashing aside Gor's weapon arm with enough force that the orc let out a cry of pain. He stomped forward a step and Calen only barely rolled out of the way of the hoof that would have crushed his skull.
Before Maurus could respond, Mathias let out a wordless snarl and slid forward, his blade coming up, aimed for a small opening between the dreadlord's breastplate and the plates on his legs. Ven'Zarul twisted to the side and the sword bounced off the obsidian armor but Mathias' wasn't through. His shield arm was already moving, the edge of the shield aimed at the side of Ven'Zarul's knee, but this time, Ven'Zarul's right wing, the one Maurus had almost cleaved in two, snapped out with a leathery crack and Mathias' head snapped back. As Mathias stumbled back and Maurus swung his axe to prevent Ven'Zarul from taking advantage of the opening, he noticed with something like panic that the rent wing was mending itself.
Lightning and a slithery length of shadow came over Maurus' shoulder and there was the slightest pause in Ven'Zarul's effortless movements as fingers of electricity and darkness crawled over his armor until it found skin and sank into it. His gaze swept past Maurus and recognition flickered in his eyes.
"Is he your new pet, warlock?" he asked, taking a step back to keep Maurus' warriors from surrounding him.
"Shut your venomous mouth," Maurus snarled, as Mathias broke forward from the formation, head low, shield up, sword ready to strike.
"Even your imp is better than that," Ven'Zarul said derisively, gesturing quickly at Maurus before parrying a blow with the same hand and catching the next, twisting Mathias' sword hand viciously. Only the desperate attacks of Maurus and Gor stopped him from bringing the other hand down through Mathias' neck. Instead he threw Mathias back into the others, knocking over Shayla and Zilja.
Arianna paid the disruption of the formation no heed and a dark haze, threaded with green, streaked from her fingers to Ven'Zarul. He waved a hand, dispersing most of it like smoke, but the remains clung to his skin for a moment before seeping into it, like water into dry earth.
"Longer lifespan than any of these," Ven'Zarul spat, barely hesitating in his taunts, apparently unaffected by the magic. He backhanded Gor with such force Maurus feared he'd broken the orc's neck and a heartbeat later, he had no fear to spare, because a flurry of strikes from Ven'Zarul took all his attention as the dreadlord pressed forward. Thankfully, those attacks only found plate, though they still numbed a shoulder and his belly where they hit and cut and dented the metal.
Widget probably saved his life with a wild swing of his mace, which she had somehow drawn, managing to smack away a blow that would otherwise have slipped between his shoulderplate and his neck armor.
Maurus brought up his axe in a swing that would have opened an unarmed opponent from groin to throat and Tu'jan and Drim, who'd moved up now that Gor and Calen were both out of commission, stabbed their swords at Ven'Zarul's wrists. The combined attack forced the dreadlord back, keeping him from going past them to the casters behind them, but Ven'Zarul still managed to grab hold of one of Drim's swords, jerking the orc with him as he half-turned.
The barrage of fire, shadow and lighting that passed over and around Maurus, like a growling wind of light and darkness, stopped the dreadlord from capitalizing on having Drim isolated for that moment, saving the orc's life. Ven'Zarul managed to dodge a lot of the magic but he flinched as fire blackened half one wing and lightning carved what looked like a second set of veins in angry red burn marks along the membrane of the same wing. Finally, shadow enveloped the base of the wing, creeping into the pale skin like murky water into a wound.
Drim used the flinch to leap away, swinging his sword wildly at the dreadlord as he hurried back to the formation. Ven'Zarul managed to catch Drim's shield arm, gouging a wide wound in the metal and flesh, but Drim still made it back in the formation, bloodied but standing.
As Ven'Zarul raised his wounded hand, Maurus saw the cut on his hand healing and felt his roiling fear and rage swirl even faster in his chest as the dreadlord regained his malicious grin.
Mathias lead in the next attack, lashing out furiously at Ven'Zarul's knees and Maurus and the others were forced to either follow or leave Mathias unsupported. The resulting attack was clumsy and Ven'Zarul scoffed wordlessly at them.
"Three-fold betrayer," Ven'Zarul taunted, cocking his head in curiosity, his eyes fixing on Mathias as he dodged and parried more blows. "Why such vehemence? I don't recall wronging you."
Something shifted in Mathias' posture and he hurled himself forward, out past Maurus, Tu'jan and Drim, following as Ven'Zarul took a short leap backwards, landing behind the crumbled form of a fel orc. His eyes glowed with malice as Mathias came close and Maurus' stomach filled with dread. He and the others lagged behind just a bit, having hesitated for a short moment in surprise at Mathias darting completely out of the formation.
Ven'Zarul's left hand swept out in a vertical half-circle, knocking Mathias' sword up and away from him, before reversing the motion and stabbing three dagger-long claws into the area beneath Mathias' sword-arm, piercing mail and digging deep into his chest. The other hand came down between Mathias' shoulderplate and helmet, forcing his head to the side and plunging claws down through his collarbone.
Mathias let out an agonized gasp and before he or anyone else had time to react, Ven'Zarul swung his arms into the air, jerking his hands apart. Mathias flew through the air, trailing dark, half-congealed blood and vanished in the melee to the left where the fel orc's were fighting a group led by two trolls wielding broad, crimson axes.
The anguish that stabbed deep into Maurus' chest only lasted for an instant before it flashed into white-hot rage. He roared, swinging his axe in an overhead swing aimed straight between Ven'Zarul's eyes, seeing nothing but the dark glee in those two pits of fel fire, thinking of nothing but his desire to see the dreadlord's lifeblood coloring the floor.
Ven'Zarul grabbed the handle of Maurus' axe mid-swing and pulled, forcing him past him, smacking him with his wing as he did and spitting a word of Eredun before catching a shadow bolt in the palm of his hand, his skin blackening and his arm jerking slightly. Maurus stumbled, his hoof sinking into the belly of a dead fel orc and catching for just enough to make him take two steps more forward before he managed to stop.
"Mistress!" he heard the succubus scream, nothing but genuine fear in her voice. He whirled around, the worst of his blinding rage retreating before a wave of fear, and saw Ven'Zarul had taken advantage of the hole he'd created in the formation. The warriors had been knocked back and only the succubus stood between Ven'Zarul and the casters, having evidently pushed Arianna back and away from the dreadlord with quite a bit of force, seeing as Arianna was just getting up from where she'd fallen.
"Witless harlot", Ven'Zarul sneered, one hand closing around the succubus' right wing while the other stabbed into her stomach, and Maurus' stomach clenched painfully as dark blood spilled from the wound and the familiar features twisted in agony. The feeling redoubled when the succubus let out a gurgling scream as Ven'Zarul pulled the wing bloodily from her shoulder, tossing the limb into Tu'jan's face. The bottom of Maurus' stomach dropped out when Ven'Zarul took off the succubus' head with an almost contemptuous sweep of his now free hand, sending the head tumbling through the air.
The limp corpse of the succubus tumbled to the side, already disintegrating into ash, revealing Arianna, covered in the dark blood of her dead familiar, small, thin, scared and defiant before the towering dreadlord.
The sight spurred Maurus into motion and he sprang forward. His voice almost cracked as he yelled the dreadlord's name and swung his axe overhead, pouring all his strength and rage into the blow. Ven'Zarul heard him and turned, twisting so his armor and his wings came between his neck and the blow.
Maurus wasn't aiming for Ven'Zarul's head or neck. Instead, the broad, gleaming blade of his axe came down on the Ven'Zarul's left wing, right where it connected to his back. The dark pieces of armor there was no protection against the blow and the axe cut through the skin and flesh, which had darkened to a mottled, gangrenous appearance. Ven'Zarul gasped and faltered, as the massive wing fell to the ground like a toppled banner, pulsing drops of dark ichor that glowed with motes of dull green. Maurus felt a thrill of dark elation and bared his teeth in a snarl, and reversed the swing.
Ven'Zarul leaned far enough forward that the swing missed before snarling out a short string of Eredun and spinning towards Maurus. As he did, his hand slashed a horizontal half-circle in front of him, sending a wave of fel fire towards Arianna and the warriors and casters around him, making them recoil and cry out in pain and as he finished turning, the same hand swung into Maurus' muzzle, claws punching clean through the helmet.
It seemed to happen incredibly slowly. The metal parted, digging into his skin and the claws scraped against bone and teeth before cracking and shattering both, on either side of his mouth. The claws were searing hot, like iron straight from the forge, and the burns spread inside his mouth along with the blood. Stars danced in his vision as he swung his axe wildly and Ven'Zarul withdrew his claws to dodge, dragging another tooth with him that clicked when it hit the helmet.
Without the Ven'Zarul's hand to hold him up, the pain flooded through Maurus and he fell to his knees, choking on a mouthful of hot blood. Through a haze of tears he looked up into the dreadlord's face and saw none of the sadistic calm he'd showed earlier, just pure hate and rage etched in every line and burning in the sickly green eyes.
"I'll make dust of your bones," he snarled, crouching to pick up his severed limb. "I'll rip out your heart and feed your soul to the fel-"
Before he could pick up his wing or finish the sentence, another torrent of magic smashed into his back. Tongues of lightning and shadow and a hammer of light all smashed into him, and he stumbled, grit his teeth and grunted out in pain. He turned again, his remaining wing swinging out and sending Maurus to the floor, but despite the tears, Maurus saw the sudden tension in the dreadlord's body and a sweeping glance of the room told him the reason. The battle had shifted irrevocably in the Horde's favor and the Horde soldiers who'd overtaken Maurus' group closed on them. The most encouraging was the surprising sight of Nazgrel and his elites approaching, fighting through the remaining fel orcs toward the dreadlord. It took him a moment to figure out that Nazgrel and his elites must have taken up the rear of the force going into the Citadel and that the soldiers who'd gone away from the chamber had hit the defenders in the rear and allowed the rest of the force to get through.
With a growl, Ven'Zarul launched himself into a great backward leap that took him away from the Horde closing in around him and half-way up the left-hand ramp, landing awkwardly. He fled up the ramp and as he did, he shouted something to the warlock in Eredun.
The warlock in the sinister robes snapped his head to Ven'Zarul in apparent question, hesitated for a moment, then seemingly noticed the situation. His hands moved in quick, practiced motion and his deep, growling voice rang out across the room, joining with Ven'Zarul as he also spoke alien words that reverberated with power.
"Kill it!" a boyish voice shouted, the high-pitched voice slicing through the noise of the room, one Maurus recognized as Speaker. Nazgrel repeated the words, his voice booming across the room in a command that had people reacting almost without thinking.
Maurus stumbled to his hooves, stepping back in formation with little conscious effort and turned woozily, just in time to see Ven'Zarul and the warlock vanish through the opening up there, which he almost hadn't noticed. A flash of blinding hate and rage burned some of the confusion from his mind and the pain as he tried to grit his teeth allowed him to gather his thoughts enough to focus.
The few fel orcs that hadn't been surrounded howled in abject terror as the pit lord roared, not in agony, but in hoarse triumph. Only just now realizing that they'd fought past the pit lord, Maurus looked behind him, hating himself for not following the dreadlord, and saw a hail of magic hit the pit lord while the soldiers hurried forward, hacking at the pit lord's legs like they were trying to fell great trees.
Maurus and his comrades had only just turned around and taken the first steps when there was a groan, then several sharp, thundering cracks as the chains, each link as thick as Maurus' wrists, came loose from the walls.
"Get down," Maurus shouted, the words slurred by his maimed mouth and the pain. He spread out his arms before pushing down the soldiers around him as he crouched.
It was not a moment too soon. Ripping the chains from the walls sent them spinning around the pit lord like massive flails and Maurus saw at at least twenty who broke arms, legs or simply died from a crushed skull or chest in the few moments the chains flew around randomly.
"Spread out. Shields overhead. Lok'tar ogar!" Nazgrel shouted and the Horde soldiers in the room picked up the warcry and attacked the demon.
The ground trembled as the pit lord stomped its massive, clawed feet, sending many of the soldiers to the ground. Maurus stumbled, but felt a push on his shoulder and looked down to see Calen supporting him with his good hand. He was still bloody and looked corpse-pale beneath the helmet, but he murmured a word and golden warmth banished some of Maurus' aches and fatigues.
His axe felt much lighter when he raised it again and let it fall into the pit lord's leg but it was like cutting into a hard oak and he almost lost his grip on the axe when he pulled it out. He had to jump aside a moment later to avoid the stomp that followed, then swung again, aiming for the glowing, bleeding wounds. Fire spilled out like blood as his axe bit deeper and he swung again and again. Tu'jan and Drim and other warriors flanked him, though less tightly, ready to leap away at a moment's notice and more burst of magic soared over his head.
The pit lord roared and stomped its feet, turning around himself like a kodo trying to shake off cougars, swinging its chains in deadly arcs that crushed the bones of anyone trying to get some distance to the terrifying demon. The casters stuck close to the warriors, who were almost beneath the pit lord, and kept peppering the demon's sides with streaks and bolts of colorful light that slowly dug into the thick hide.
Nazgrel, Krunk and the elites faced the pit lord head on, their taunts and deadly weapons easily keeping the maddened demon's attention, though it wouldn't leave the middle of the room, drawing back and turning on the others if Nazgrel tried to lead it closer to the gate.
There was a boom and the pit lord bellowed furiously and sagged. Maurus just had time to glimpse the shattered front leg before he had to retreat to avoid getting crushed as the pit lord flopped down to crush anyone beneath him.
A spark of an idea appeared in Maurus' exhausted head, at the same time Widget shouted in his ear: "Bomb!" He paused his attacks for a moment to pull out the last bomb and shoved the little sphere into the burning wound in the pit lord's legs.
"Back!" he shouted, words still mangled and painful, hoping the order was understood and retreated half a dozen feet. Thankfully, the others got the idea and fell back before the bomb exploded with a heavy clap of force and sound.
Another roar pressed on Maurus' ears and the pit lord thrashed around, its tail and the chains swinging wildly, gouging holes in the stone floor. Limping and growling, still able to use its back, right leg to some degree, it dragged itself slowly back, toward the ramp and the platforms.
Maurus sensed the weakening in the demon, like he often did toward the end of hunt, and so did the rest of the Horde, but unlike when he hunted, he felt no regret for the impending death of his foe. He felt only weary determination and something similar to when he'd put down sickly gazelles in the barrens.
The pit lord abruptly shuffled around and its wounded foot grazed his shoulder. His pauldron bent inward and pain exploded in his shoulder as something broke, making it almost impossible to hold on to his axe. He stumbled back and waited for the dizzying pain to fade, but before it could, something broke in the pit lord.
Like a great wave of stone-grey flesh, it toppled, still roaring and Maurus stared for a heartbeat before he dragged himself from the stupor and turned.
"Get back!" he shouted, feeling a little less pain, as he ran away from the immense demon falling onto its side.
His comrades scrambled back, only barely making it. At least two others were not so lucky, a tauren and a troll getting caught by the demon's bulk and Maurus felt tired shame when he was relieved that they didn't even have time to scream.
Other soldiers were quicker. A segment of Nazgrel's elites and another dozen, mostly grunts in bright red armor, swarmed up the side of the demon, hacking at it, climbing to more dangerous positions while carefully avoiding the mane of guttering fire running down its back. As they did, a trio of fresh earth elementals sprouted from the ground next to Nazgrel and caught on of the chains, holding it fast with great effort.
Maurus started forward when the last leg went out from under the pit lord and began hacking at the demon's sides with frenzied determination, feeling almost safe even though the pit lord thrashed its tail and flagellated himself with the remaining chains in an effort to dislodge the soldiers there.
Fire bleed out around the wounds Maurus cut in the stony hide and the pit lord groaned as the assault of half a hundred weapons and almost as many magical attacks wore it down. It slumped more and more, its attacks and thrashing growing sluggish, its roars losing strength.
"Everyone, start the withdrawal!" Nazgrel yelled suddenly and Maurus looked around confusedly. Many of those closest to the gate abruptly broke and ran, with the speed of relief and terror. Everyone on Maurus' side of the pit lord began edging around it, not quite eager to run out where an errant chain blow could wound or kill them, but as Nazgrel and Krunk again reclaimed the pit lord's full attention, they began to run past.
Something black moved in the corner of Maurus' eye and he glanced to the side, spotting sun-bleached hair and familiar, skull-shaped pauldrons behind three fel orcs lying in a pile a little way back.
"Out," he shouted at his comrades, feeling like the word rent his mouth open all over again but only really noticing the relief he felt. Tu'jan, Drim and all the rest didn't even hesitate and most of them were already past him when he turned and pushed his way past the remaining soldiers running for the door.
"What are you doing?" Arianna shouted hoarsely, slapping him on his arm. In answer, he pointed to the shape behind the fel orcs and hurried his pace.
"You're crazy," Widget screamed in his ear and glanced longingly at the gate. She didn't jump off though.
"Hurry then!" Arianna urged, a note of panic in her voice, following him.
He jumped over the pile of fel orcs and reached down for Mathias' shoulder, only for his friend to whirl around, snapping at his fingers and giving a rattling growl. He'd taken off his helmet and his face was frightful. Blood and gore covered his face in splotches that reached almost to his wild eyes and strips of flesh and a finger-long piece of intestine hung from his teeth. More blood covered his hands and the front of his armor and his posture was feral, crouched low, his hands hanging in front of him.
The sight made Maurus sick to his stomach and miserable.
"We have to leave," Arianna said, her words quick, urgent and pained. Maurus hesitated and noticed Nazgrel and Krunk launch another attack. As the pit lord's chains came down on them, they and their elites spread out while the earth elementals pulled on the other chains, and the momentum of the pit lord's free arm and the pull of the elementals pulled it down. Nazgrel unleashed a blinding spear of lightning and fire rolled along with it, summoned by the shamans flanking him. Following right in the wake of the magical onslaught, the elites and Krunk leapt forward, throwing momentum, strength and rage into heavy blows that buried blades of axes and swords deep in the demon's body.
"Now," Arianna said, a note of desperation in her voice.
Krunk, Nazgrel and the elites took off like The Fallen himself was at their heels, many leaving their weapons in the demon. Maurus gauged the distance to the gate, feeling a fluttering panic rush through him like a wild wind. They were behind the pit lord, and off to the side and he now recalled how Hellscream had died.
He made a snap decision. He dropped the axe, snaked his bad arm around Arianna and started forward, pushing away the pain it caused him to life her. Mathias snarled at him, but didn't manage do dodge before Maurus closed his good arm around him, pressing him to his chest as he ran for the ramp, which was much closer than the exit.
"Up front," Maurus slurred at Widget and she scampered over his shoulder after a moment's hesitation, coming down between Mathias and Arianna, swearing up a storm. She kept up the swearing, Mathias struggled and growled like an animal and Arianna muttered steadily as he ran up the ramp.
There was a rumbling explosion and he threw himself down in front of the doorway up there, curling himself as much as he could around the trio in his arms and angled his back toward the room just as the fire came roaring up over the lip of the platform. He held his breath and closed his eyes and despite the fact that the fire was deflected upwards by the ramp, and therefor didn't engult them, he felt the metal of his armor grow so hot it singed his fur and blistered his skin. He didn't know what was worse, the pain of the burns or the agony as he gritted his broken teeth.
It seemed to last forever before he couldn't see the light through his eyelids and he waited until his lungs' demand for air became impossible to ignore before he gasped in a breath. He opened his eyes and thanked spirits, Earth Mother and Arianna's enchantments for his life.
"You're crushing me," Arianna muttered and he rolled over, feeling some relief as he let go of Arianna and tightening his grip when Mathias struggled again.
"Mathias!" he said, his attempt at a firm tone undermined by his pained, slurring word. Mathias struggled and Maurus smacked him on the head. "Get a hold of yourself."
The sudden silence after the noise of the battle was made even more oppressive by the fear he felt for Mathias. He had no idea how forsaken actually worked. The elation he'd felt at seeing Mathias' sandy hair had been swallowed by the fear that his friend was no longer there.
Mathias struggled, his arms working to escape from the hold, his feet scrambling for purchase, but Maurus held him fast and growled: "Mathias! Remember us! Remember Garm!"
The words were so slurred that he was unsure if the names could be understood, but Mathias stilled. Then he began trembling.
"Let me go," he said. His voice was low, urgent, half-way between a plea and an order. Maurus did as he asked and Mathias sprang up, retreating to the corner of the gate. He spat several times and wiped at his face, only to jerk away his hands, before beginning to wipe them on the wall. There was a haunted look in his pale, dead eyes and a stiffness to his movement that was much more pronounced than usual.
Maurus couldn't take his eyes off him and his mind raced, trying to find something soothing to say, but the pains and the sheer exhaustion made it hard to think.
"Well, as nice as it is to lie here with my favorite pile of fur," Widget said, her voice almost back to her usual, blithe tone, "we should get up before they leave us behind. I think we could all use some fixing."
Widget got to her feet and walked over to the edge of the platform, looking down. While she did, Arianna rose from her place in the crook of Maurus' right arm and he felt an odd mix of relief and disappointment when she wasn't putting weight on his bad shoulder anymore. The relief certainly spoke in favor of finding a healer, as did the other hundred pains, most urgently his mouth.
"Don't forget us!" Widget called down into the chamber.
Maurus glanced at Mathias, then at Arianna. The troubled look was back in Arianna's eyes and Mathias looked ready to rip off his skin. He really wished he could say something to assuage their worries, but his mind wouldn't work. Maybe it would come if he just relaxed for a bit.
The thought had hardly formed in his head before darkness swarmed in from the edge of his vision as exhaustion overcame all the pain and aches and worries, sending him into unconsciousness.
Well, what do you think? Too long? Too cliche? Too powerful or not powerful enough dreadlord? A fitting, yet still interesting role for Maurus and co. against the pit lord?
Any grammar mistakes? I might have missed some, because this chapter was huge. All feedback will be much appreciated.
P.S. Do any of you think the story is dragging out too much? This seemed like a huge climax and I'm a little worried about being able to top it for the real climax, but the story just isn't at an ending point yet. Let me know what you think.