Monster Party Book Six: Only mortal trust or faerie dust.
Final Chapter: Who are you fool nothing who dares to tell me nay?
"So you're sure this tunnel will take us where we need to go?" Callan Wright couldn't help but ask Jaiya.
"Are you suggesting that you know the stones of this land better than I do?" The erdulitle responding, in much the same affronted tones that Cal might used if someone had claimed to be better at alchemy than him.
"Okay, fair enough, are you sure we need to use them then?" Cal added, clarifying his concerns slightly.
After Alexander had managed to make peace with the strange folk, the group had been forced to strike out through one of their tunnels. Moving through the Shadow Rift's strange landscape was unnerving, but you could become used to it over time, and even if there was no sun, at least there was still a sky.
Down here in the tunnels there was no sun, no sky, one might even say "no nothing" given that "nothing" tended to imply vast emptiness. Instead, the group was forced to march single file through a tunnel so small that Alexander was forced to crouch for fear of bumping his had on the ceiling.
"You can wander through the Black Marshes which are currently overflowing with saugh, then climb the Darkenheights upon the top of whose rocky cliffs Loht has encamped a small army of muryan to ensure his privacy, or you can take this tunnel." Jaiya pointedly offered.
Cal didn't need to think too long about his options for very long.
"At least there isn't much danger of us getting lost..." The alchemist reflected awkwardly.
"Are you sure you won't be able to offer us any support once we actually reach our destination?" Alexander pressed the erdulitle's leader.
Jaiya had be willing to take them the Obsidian Gate's doorstep, but so far had refused any to offer them any help beyond that.
"Not a chance. Right now as far as the Shadow Prince knows he drove us completely from these lands centuries ago. If he has reason to suspect we're still around though..." Jaiya explained, shuddering slightly.
"If everything goes as planned Loht will be dead, and with you along to help it'll be all the more likely." Alexander countered.
"You're absolutely certain that you can kill the Prince of Shadows for good down here? Besides, even if you did, he has a number of retainers who would all too happy to carry on his pogrom the moment they got the chance. We may both want to throw a wrench in whatever Loht is planning right now, but we have to live here and you don't..." Jaiya huffed gruffly.
For a brief moment Alexander contemplated telling the erdulitle chieftain about the being which dwelled inside the Obsidian Gate that Loht was threatening to let loose. He thought about it, and then decided against it, the erdulitle were not Arak, they would have not have experienced that horror firsthand, and so would probably not believe it. Best to accept help he was going to be given, rather than risk making his current ally think him a lunatic.
"Can we count on using your tunnels again after all is said and done? Climbing down a mountain guarded by muryan and wading through a marsh filled with saugh isn't much more pleasant than climbing up a mountain and so on and so forth." Devi Skye cut in.
"If you can deal with the Prince of Shadows, at least for a while then we'll be here to help you get back to safety. Don't worry about how, we'll be able to find you if actually pull it off." Jaiya offered, his tone softening slightly.
That brief bout of conversation over and done with the group went back to their silent trekking. The tunnel curved upwards slightly as they began to make their way past (under?) the Darkenheights.
Canteens filled with water and brief mouthfuls of food were taken from Devi's bag of holding and passed back and forth. In such cramped conditions there was no desire to stop and eat a proper meal, that would have to wait until they'd reached the end of the tunnel.
So they trod ever onward, making their way through that dreadfully compact corridor, where if their surroundings changed at it was too dark to tell. Devi's lantern gave them enough light to proceed by and no more.
Eventually the harrowing journey came to an end as Jaiya announced that they had reached their destination.
"It's all up from here..." The erdulitle reflected before slamming his hands through a thin layer of dirt to create a hole for them to climb out of.
"Which way is it to the Obsidian Gate from here?" Cal wondered, glad to get his had above ground again.
Jaiya popped his head out of the hole just long enough to point a single finger.
Following it they all saw a truly massive black sphere that seemed to utterly and completely consume any and all light that came near it.
"Oh yeah, that would do it." The alchemist admitted.
Once the six had all climbed out Jaiya retreated back below the surface and the ground began to move and churn so as to completely and utterly obliterate any trace that he had been there.
"Well there's nothing to it but to do it. Lets all hold hands and let me know if any of you start to feel like you're fading away..." Alexander warned them before taking Florence and James' hands.
A moment later James grabbed hold of Mirri, who grabbed hold of Devi who grabbed hold of Cal who decided not to grab hold of Alexander less they all have to walk around in an especially awkward circle.
Soon they were swallowed completely by the darkness, and had only the sound of their own footfalls to keep them company. None the less they pressed on all the same, hoping they'd make it through to the other side before they started to fade away, or walked off a cliff.
As they passed through the seemingly impenetrable darkness they came upon the Obsidian Gate proper. A sheet of slippery black glass made up the floor of a mysterious structure they found themselves inside of, like a huge arena. Looming before them was a some sort of tower made ascendable only by a huge spiral staircase looping around it, above which floated a huge sphere of solid darkness.
A single glance was all any of them needed to be sure that the strange sphere was the Obsidian Gate itself.
Standing on top of the tower were a great many Arak, one of which Mirri recognized at instantly, even though his features were somewhat distorted by a golden globe which surrounded him. He was the only Arak she'd ever seen who was completely bald. It seemed that Loht hadn't quite fully recovered from his punishment at the hands of Tristessa…
In addition to his magical protections he also had two score of Muryan bodyguards. No sooner did they catch sight of Loht than Loht caught sight of them, and the more eagle eyed members of the group could see a wide smile fill his face.
"Wonderful the final piece of my father's regalia has finally arrived! You lee-due fools didn't know just how much the pieces long to be together do you?" He mocked them.
Sure enough even as he spoke all of a sudden the Crown of Arak levitated itself out of Devi's bag of holding. The elf made a desperate grab for it, but it just barely managed to slip past her fingers and shoot off towards Loht.
"Oh f*&k we're still doing the thing where we do all the hard work and end up bringing the villain his magical item!" The alchemist moaned as he quickly raised Phoenix and fired.
Alas the bullet pinged pointlessly off of the golden sphere surrounding his target, which the crown somehow managed to pass straight through into his waiting hands. Loht placed the Crown of Arak atop his head and raised his hands up towards the Obsidian Sphere above him in exultation.
"Come, Arak! Come, Earlking! Come, Father! Your son awaits you!" Cried out Loht imploring to the Obsidian Gate
Behind the prince a small circle of radiance began to spread across the ebon surface of the black sphere. There was something in there… but it wasn't an Arak… in fact it was impossible to say exactly what it was, other than that it was huge and… wrong….
Suddenly a monstrous gray tentacle snaked out of the circle of glowing light and wrapped around Loht (his golden sphere of protection vanishing the moment the tentacle came near), yanking him up into the air. A deep menacing voice began to emanate from the Obsidian Gate.
"YOUR HELP IS MUCH APPRECIATED PUPPET! HERE IS THE REWARD YOU SO JUSTLY DESERVE!" It boomed out.
Alexander barely had time to peel off his eye-patch and toss it aside in preparation for whatever horrible things were about to come next, before the serpentine limb squeezed its captive Arak prince so tightly that it was impossible not to hear the sound of breaking bones.
Loht screamed pain and lashed out with the Sword of Arak, managing to slice open a deep cut into the serpentine limb. In response it twisted and tossed Loht away hurling him to the far end of the arena.
The entire gate seemed to shudder as the tentacle momentarily retreated back into the glowing circle it had emerged from. That sight brought little relief to the group's hearts though, not when even as it happened that same voice spoke out again.
"PAPER CUTS! NOTHING BUT A PAPER CUT! YOU WILL LIVE, BUT ONLY BECAUSE YOU HAVE SO DILIGENTLY SERVED ME FOOLISH PUPPET! COME TO ME MY TRUE SERVANTS, DEATH HAS PURIFIED YOU OF THE BURDEN OF DOUBT AND PAIN! DEATH HAS SHOWN YOU MY UNSTOPPABLE GLORY!" As the voice rang out figures began to emerged from the far end of the arena.
Some of them glided and floated above the ground, their bodies insubstantial as mist. Still others marched forward, and among these some had flesh while others were nothing more than animated bones. Alexander's first guess as to their number was "way, way too many" but his second was northwards of a five hundred.
The undead monsters pressed shoulder to shoulder against one another forming ranks before Loht (several of them treading upon him in the process) before starting to advance. Clearly this was the army of "saugh" that Loht had created, and just as clearly it was no longer his to command.
As if further proof of just how doomed they were was needed, as the gateway began to grow wider Mirri fell to her knees.
"No, no, no, not like this! He's in my head, he's in my body, he's everywhere! Get out, get out!" The vampire scratched frantically at her own face in horror, ripping apart her own skin in blind panic. Her voice then became an anguished shriek, reduced to chanting words without meaning.
"Tekeli-li, Tekeli-li!" She screamed before collapsing upon the ground, her arms flailing about wildly, her legs kicking at nothing.
With Loht dealt with the malevolent presence that had now been freed turned its attention upon the adventures, finding them quite the curiosity.
"WHAT IS THIS? ONE OF THE SYLVAN FOLK IN MY NEW KINGDOM WHO HAS NOT BEEN REMADE IN MY GLORIOUS IMAGE? THIS WILL NEVER DO!" That ominous voice boomed out as if being projected through a thousand trumpets.
It spoke with such great volume that the sound alone brought pain to one's ears. A cloud of inky darkness shot out of the Obsidian Gate and sailed through the air, moving with all the speed of a flickering shadow. Before any of them could possibly stop it, the black blob struck.
It slammed into Florence Bastien and surrounded her completley, making it impossible to see her within the depths of that horrific darkness.
"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?" Alexander roared back at the being that dwelled within the Obsidian Gate, though even his mighty voice seemed a soft gentle whisper next to that of the strange entity.
"YOU ARE MORTAL." It was not a question, it was a statement.
"I HAVE NO INTEREST IN SERVANTS WHO WILL ONLY BE ABLE TO OBEY ME FOR THE BLINK OF EYE. BUT NONE WILL BE ALLOWED TO OPENLY OPPOSE ME. KNEEL!" The mighty voice demanded of Alexander.
The silver haired man felt his legs go weak for a moment as a mystical assault lashed against his mind.
It smashed through his conscious mind like a tidal wave, rolling over every effort he made to resist it, before he knew what he was doing. his knees began to bend.
The magical energies wormed their ways into Alexander Diamondclaw's inner mind, what human could possibly stand against such a powerful command?
Alexander's Diamondclaw's mind was not just human though… as the compulsion tried to seize full control, suddenly deep within his mind roaring defiance back at the invading presence was a wolf.
A wolf so great that when it yawned its upper jaw would touch the clouds while its lower rested upon the ground.
To such a magnificent beast a tidal wave did not even reach halfway up its legs.
Alexander's knees straightened and his mismatched eyes both themselves firmly upon the middle of the Obsidian Gate.
"You call yourself a god? I suppose it's only fair… for what being in this or any world that is more duplicitous and detestable than a god? All the more reason why I will fight you to my last breath! Death before submission, I will NEVER bare my throat to you!" Alexander promised to his indescribable foe.
Then he shoved his left arm into the shadows that surrounded Florence up to the shoulder. He could not see, but he could still feel. Her grasping hands seized hold of his wrist and he tugged.
"Every twilight inevitably gives way to the dawn." Florence Bastien's voice rang out as Alexander pulled her free from the orb of darkness, her body unaffected by the experience.
"NOT THIS 'TWILIGHT' I AM ETERNAL, I AM GWYDION!" Thus did Alexander and his companions finally know the name of this monster, much good it did them.
A moment later another blob of inky darkness shot out, and like before it managed to more or less completely surround Florence.
"You want me to change? You want to see me transform?" The dryad's voice called out from within the onyx sphere she'd been sealed in.
"I am no delicate flower… I am no resolute tree… I am no tender gardener… I am no kind sheppard..." Her voice declared calmly.
Sharp wooden spears suddenly burst free from the blackness that encompassed Florence. As if the darkness had been some kind of bubble that had just been popped, it vanished as quickly as it had come into being.
With it gone they could see Florence once again… and what had become of her.
Florence Bastien crouched upon the ground on all fours… her green tinted skin had been dyed a deep dark brown, her ears become pointed, her mouth an elongated muzzle filled with sharp wooden teeth. From her back grew a strange cluster of plant life that constantly twisted and writhed like some kind of oversized tumor.
Vines and wooden tree limbs grew and retracted from it, and after a moment it was possible to tell that this bizarre section of her body had produced the many shafts of wood which had burst free of the dark orb.
"I, am, a, hunting, wolf!" Florence Bastien howled back at Gwydion.
"SO FOOLISH, SO VERY FOOLISH! YOU ARE WHAT I TELL YOU THAT YOU ARE! IMMORTALS LIVE FOREVER AND FOREVER IS VERY A LONG TIME, YOU WILL SUCCUMB JUST AS ALL THE OTHERS!" Gwydion insisted before producing a third blob of darkness to hurl at Florence.
Not only that, but something began to push against the brightly glowing Obsidian Gate, and slowly a gigantic spiked tail began to force its way through…
XXX XXX XXX
"Tekeli-li, Tekeli-li! Tekeli-li, Tekeli-li!" Mirri kept repeating the nonsense words and over again over again.
"Mirri… Mirri are you all right?" James desperately tried to get the woman he loved to talk some sense as she lay babbling madly upon the ground.
Mirri Catwarrior suddenly stopped screaming.
"I… I am fine. No, I am glorious! I am a finger on the hand of god!" Mirri cried out, rising to her feet far too swiftly.
"YOU BASTARD!" Screamed James Firecat at the top of his lungs as he all but instantly realized what was going on.
He had long heard stories of the power of evil magicians to control undead… even intelligent undead. He had never imagined just how horrible it would be to witnessed it happen before his very eyes though.
"Surrender to me..." Hissed Mirri Catwarrior's voice, except that it wasn't Mirri's voice. The vocal chords were the same, but nothing else was.
There was no assurance, no affection, there was not even any seduction in the voice, it was simply a command as Mirri gazed deeply into the werecat's eyes.
"Surrender to me..." Mirri hissed again.
James Firecat's right hand went to a pocket of his red jacket.
"You may have been a vampire ever since we met, but Mirri… don't let him make you a monster..." James pleaded pitifully.
"There is no 'Mirri' there is no mind, there is no soul, there only an empty shell to be filled with his infinite ecstasy and power! Surrender and join me the transcendence of undeath! I am the most beautiful woman in this world, you can deny me nothing!" The abomination that wore Mirri Catwarrior's body insisted, its eyes still locked on James'.
"You are the most beautiful woman in the world… but not the one to come..." James insisted in a mournful voice, then pulled out the pocket's contents.
It was a simple (if well made) carving of a cat sitting upright on all four paws crafted from black stone. There was a piece of string looped around the cat's neck but the young lycanthrope opted to tightly grip the statue itself instead. He lifted it up before his face and the vampire took a step back.
"Drop the statue..." The abomination demanded, suddenly no longer sounding quite so certain.
Instead James raised it up before his face, so that if the vampire puppet wished to look at him, it would have to look directly at the statue. In theory the statue was nothing truly special, a good luck trinket from his mother, he'd never even bothered to ask Florence if it was magical or not.
It was a simple black statue, a simple black statue that now acted as a focus for every single ounce of James Firecat's devotion to Bastet, Goddess of cats as protectors of hearth and home.
When seen through a pair of stolen red orbs though, that statue wasn't black anymore. No, now it blazed with a rainbow radiance that seared the eye and confounded the mind.
The vampire puppet turned its head aside, no longer willing to use its charm gaze if it required looking directly at the statue.
"Bastet is with me!" James declared proudly as he took a step forward.
The abomination took a step back, it tried to speak, but no words left its throat.
"She who pets my ears, strokes my fur, and gently rubs my throat. Bastet, is, with, me!" James insisted again, taking another long step forward.
"Can you bring yourself to destroy that which you love? Can you even bring yourself to hurt me….?" The abomination hissed back at him mockingly, its head spasming back and forth so it would never have to look straight at James for long.
James' other hand went into another pocket of his jacket and clenched tightly around something.
"Dead nerves can't transmit pain. Besides, this won't really hurt 'you' more is the pity." James declared before dashing forward.
The abomination's arms came up to strike at him, but James kept the statue front and center. He tilted it, shifted it, and made sure that whenever the abomination tried to get a good look at him, all it saw was the statue.
Unable to clearly see its foe the abomination was reduced to lashing out blindly. James managed to twist his body beneath the monster's slashing claws, transforming himself into a half feline beast in the process for extra speed and strength. His jacket began to be absorbed into his body, but not before his left hand emerged, holding a wooden stake.
With one smooth motion, he slammed the it home.
Driven by lycanthropic muscles the stake's wooden point managed to crack the bones of the abomination's ribcage and continue onwards. It buried itself completely in the puppet's body, and in the process impaled an unbeating heart.
Mirri Catwarrior's red eyes went wide in shock and she toppled backwards mouth wide open in a silent scream as her body was granted the "blessing" of complete immobility.
James' transformation reversed, his jacket emerging back into existence, and next he removed a mask from it. It was made of wood, carved in the shape of a snarling cat, and he slid it on easily over his own face.
"Bastet is with me… and what manner of god fails to protect their servants?" He scoffed in defiance of Gwydion's claims of dietyhood.
XXX XXX XXX
Alexander Diamondclaw surveyed the situation: Loht's body lay on the far side of the arena all but completely still, arrayed against him an entire army of the fearless undead under the sway of a cruel would be god who was rapidly joining them on the field of battle, one of his own companions already suborned, Florence locked in a magical duel that could only have one possible ending, and Loht's cadre of living bodyguards already fleeing for their lives down the spiral staircase, hoping to reach the ground before the undead could surround them.
The conclusion was obvious, it was time to attack!
"James, play my marching song!" Alexander commanded as his single eye fixed upon Loht, a mad plan forming in his mind.
James Firecat had heard stranger orders from the silver haired man and took solace in his leader's unshakable confidence.
He reached into yet another pocket of his jacket and pulled out a harmonica. He pressed it to his lips blew into it, and in an instant an entire symphony filled the air.
Drums beat out a rolling martial rhythm in company with the waling of powerful instrument whose shrill sound seemed to have been designed expressly for cutting through the chaos of a battlefield.
Wolf Claw slid into Alexander's hands as he charged forward towards Gwydion's mismatched (and massive) army with a tune on his lips.
"Axes flash, broadswords swing,
shining armor's piercing ring..." He sang out as he cleaved one spectral being in half, causing it to dissolve away into insubstantial ectoplasm.
That was the easy part though, the next foes he faced were a quartet of deformed beasts that twisted and bent unnaturally as if they were all muscles and skin with no bones at all.
"Soldiers stand with a polished shield
Fight those bastards till they yield!" Cal Wright and Devi Skye cried out in accompaniment as a bolt of lightning and an expertly aimed bullet felled two of monsters.
"Protect every twig and stone
Fight to keep this land your own!" James Firecat insisted, switching the harmonica to a one handed grip.
Like so many times before, instrument continued to play on even though he no longer breathed into it. His other hand was busy reaching into every pocket he could find in his jacket, pulling out knives and tossing them into the pressed ranks of the saugh. Wherever the blade ended up landing it would be hard pressed to avoid striking one of Gwydion's undead servants on its way there.
"Sound the horn and call the cry,
how many of them can we make die?" Florence Bastien announced triumphantly as she again dispersed the dark clouds that Gwydion had summoned to engulf her.
Then she lowered her head and let loose with a long lupine howl. Not just sound left her throat, out of her open muzzle shot forth a great beam of golden light that plunged into the depths of the Obsidian Gate, a brief pinprick of brilliance within the infinite darkness, a small section of seared and scorched flesh upon Gwydion's gigantic body.
As Alexander struck down his latest foe, a zombie wielding a huge executioner's axe, it had its revenge from even further beyond the grave than most undead. As its skin was split open by Wolf Claw, a fowl pungent miasma rolled forth. The caustic cloud blinded his eyes and seared his lungs with every breath that he took.
Momentarily weakened the silver haired man dropped to one knee, weakly gripping Wolf Claw as another of the undead executioners approached, axe raised and ready to strike him down.
With a soft whistle of parting air the axe descended.
With a sharp metallic CLANG the axe bounced off a pair of scimitars.
"Shall we dance?" The words were spoken in a soft feminine Tepestani lilt by a muryan who had decided to interpose herself between Alexander and the monster.
The undead creature pulled back its great blade with machine like precision in preparation for another blow.
One it never got a chance to deliver.
The dancing woman flowed past Alexander, slipped inside the monster's guard, and spun her entire body about with something more like a ballerina's grace than martial prowess. She focused her entire body's weight behind one single solid kick, slamming it directly into her foe's midsection.
The monster flew back and struck more of its fellows. As its skin burst open the vapors it released ate away at their bodies, causing them in turn to spew still more of the deadly fumes. Like a series of festival fireworks tied in a bundle, each one that popped helped bring about the next's destruction, a full score of the rotting axeman perished in short order.
"The lee-due with the silver hair, he knows where the best fighting is!" Declared the dancing woman, clanging her blades together in approval.
Nor was she the only one; every muryan bodyguard Loht had brought with him was now eagerly racing forward.
Their feet struck the ground perfectly in time with the beat of James' music and they raised their own voices in song.
"Follow orders, as your told,
Make their yellow blood run cold!" They decreed in one voice.
Having been given a brief moment to himself, Alexander Diamondclaw's miraculous regenerative abilities had sprung into action. He now rose to his feet, coughing out the last of the vile poison and strode forward to battle once more.
His silver hair trailed out behind him like an unfolding banner as he positioned himself in the van of the dancing men's charge, still singing all the while.
"Fight until you die or drop
A force like ours is hard to stop!" He declared proudly as Wolf Claw cleaved the skull of a red boned skeletal creature.
"Close your mind to stress and pain,
Fight till you're no longer sane!" The muryan called back in approval.
Cal, Devi and James all continued to support the charge with more knives, bullets, and "minor" mystical attacks from Devi's magical rings.
"Let now one dam cur pass by..." The trio declared solemnly as they did what they could to clear a path for Alexander.
"How many of them can we make die?" All those who present who opposed Gwydion shouted defiantly.
"SILENCE!" Gwydion shouted back.
A shower of strange objects roughly the size of hailstones, except that each one was dark as could be fell upon James Firecat. Even wearing the blessed mask of Bastet the young werecat was still pummeled mightily by the blows of the stones as he sought to leap, roll, run, or otherwise win his way free from the magical storm. One of his eyes was blackened by a well placed stone, and another forced the harmonica from his hands before yet another smashed it to pieces.
"I WILL HAVE SILENCE!" Gwydion's booming voice cried out in triumph.
Sure enough the music died away and there was silence other than the sound of metal on metal and metal on flesh.
Alexander and his muryan force was still pushing forward, but every foot of ground they gained came at a price. None of those who aided him had anything approaching his ability to regenerate from wounds. Neither were all of the muryan as skillful as the dancing woman at his side who evaded attacks so effortlessly it was as if her foes gad been trying to miss on purpose.
More and more muryan were being pushed back and falling to their knees, their bodies marred by deep gashes, unable to keep up with Alexander.
A swarm of Gwydion's spectral minions rose up into the air, ready to sweep around the sides of Alexander's charge and easily slaughter those dancing men who could no longer fight at the front.
That was when the music started again.
This time it wasn't being produced by one single instrument, even a single magical instrument, instead there seemed to be an entire orchestra playing the battle song that Alexander had begun.
Entering through the veil of shadows that surrounded the Obsidian Gate at Alexander's back came a veritable troop of musicians. They played the song on fifes, they played the song on whatever drums were small enough for them to carry, they played the song on lutes, and they played the song on instruments the likes of which had no name outside the Shadow Rift.
They played the song with a complete and utter detachment for the battle going on around them, focused solely and completely on the music.
Following them was Princess Maeve of the Arak, looking exquisitely beautiful as always, even with a quiver of arrows slung across her back and a longbow in her hands.
She wasn't the only shee present either, just as she had brought an orchestra worth of changeling musicians, there were at least fifty other Arak of her breed present armed with bows of every type imaginable.
"Guard your servants and children well,
send these bastards back to hell!" Maeve sang out as she relaxed the bowstring she'd just pulled taut.
A perfectly crafted arrow fetched with feathers from some brightly colored exotic bird soared through the air. It buried itself in the unbeating heart of an incorporeal monster, the arrow's mystical nature allowing it to strike true all the same. The ghostly undead creature promptly vanished.
A moment later following Maeve's example a storm of wooden arrows was loosed against Gywdion's undead army.
The tide of flying undead which had been poised to start rolling up Alexander's charge was halted, many of its members ceasing to exist then and there.
"We'll teach them, the ways war,
They won't come here any more..." A series of voices sounding aged and yet also full of energy added next.
Brightly colored lizards skittered between the feet of Maeve's reinforcements. The small creatures raced forward with the celerity that animals they resembled could only achieve for far shorter bursts. They alighted on the shoulders, backs and anywhere else they could find of those muryan who had been wounded in the battle. Now within arms reach of their patients the portune began to properly ply their mystical healing arts.
There were brief bursts of glowing energy, and then dancing men who had been so badly wounded that even they had fallen back now found their flesh whole and unmarred once more.
"Use your sword and use your head,
Fight till everyone is dead!" The reinvigorated Arak cried out joyously as they returned to battle with all the zeal of a someone reuniting with their long lost lover.
"Raise the flag up unto the sky,
How many of them can we make die?" A chorus of somewhat squeaky voices announced.
Additional percussion was added to the music as the alven servants of Princess Maeve made their contribution to the unfolding battle against Gwydion.
The alven looked no different than when the group had last saw them back in the flower fields. They were unimpressively tiny, a foot across from head to toe at most, with brightly colored butterfly wings flapping from their shoulders.
The bright red haired Arak did not look quite so harmless though when half a dozen or so of them were perched on the back of gigantic wooden monsters that each had to be at least twenty feet tall.
Their mounts might have once been normal (or at least as close as anything in the Shadow Rift got to "normal") trees, but now they were clearly treents, living creatures that were roughly humanoid in shape but on scale with the ancient oaks, pinewoods and other trees that they had been before their transformation.
One of the treents even held another "small" tree trunk that was only six feet or so feet across across as a club.
The treents were by no means quick, but creatures of such size rarely needed to be. They advanced forward, wooden juggernauts, ready to crush all who stood before them.
"STUPID, SPITEFUL, CHILDREN!" Screamed Gwydion.
A bolt of malevolent dark energy materialized out of thin air before the Obsidian Gate and launched itself at the foremost treent.
It struck it exactly where its heart should be, except that trees had no need of such a vulnerable organ. None the less dark energy began to course through the magical plant and its bark turned from dark brown to a chalky gray, promptly starting to flake off in great clumps as the treent dropped its club and stumbled to the ground.
Florence Bastien turned her attention away from the magical duel she had only been surviving because Gwydion desired her servitude more than her death. Her wooden paws began beat across the ground, and propelled her into the air. Vines burst forth from the twisting mass on her back, wrapping themselves firmly around the fallen treent, allowing her to easily scale up the side of its body.
She took up position on its back alongside the alven who were already perched upon it. They were already letting loose with a torrent of various languages casting spells in whatever tongue suited them best. No sooner had they started to restore some measure of vitality to the treent then Gwydion conjured forth another dark bolt and slammed it home just as swiftly as the first.
More bark turned gray, more of it began to fall away and the treents body began to creak and groan as if it might split in half at any moment.
Not only that, but still more balls of blackness homed in upon Florence, and temporarily swallowed her yet again.
The wooden wolf dispersed the darkness through sheer unalloyed disdain, still refusing to give into Gwydion's transforming magics. Next, still more vines burst from her back and plunged themselves into treent, forcing her tentacle like growths into its body through a patch of gray wood which promptly gave way at her slightest touch.
Then the dryad raised her own voice in sylvan, calling forth mystical spells of healing designed to restore life and vitality to a plant, just as the alven already were.
A third bolt of dark energy struck the tree, but the greyness failed to spread this time.
She and her alven companions did what they could to hold some fragment of Gwydion's attention upon themselves, and as they did so the other treents continued to advance.
With the mad (or at least enraged) "god" focusing primarily on the newest arrivals Alexander and the muryan continued to cut a path through the undead army before them. Foes made of naught but spectral essence went down before Wolf Claw's blade just as easily as if those made of flesh and blood, and Alexander was reaping an impressive tally of both.
The only one who could keep pace with him with the female muryan whose body vibrated like a hummingbird, darting here, there, and everywhere. While Alexander preferred to bisect his foes with one clean slice each, her twin blades sliced countless minor cuts into those who opposed her. Even undead who could not feel pain found their bodies beginning to fail them once the right bits of bone and sinew were hacked to pieces.
Florence's lupine ears heard a familiar laugh coming from one of the alven atop her treent who likewise must have been able to recognize her even in her new shape.
"Dawn has broke, the time has come,
Move your feet to a marching drum..." Florence called out to the treent as her mystical powers combined with those of the alven spurred it back into motion.
"We'll win the war and pay the toll,
All fight as one in heart and soul!" Alexander insisted as he continued to press forward, forcing a way through Gwydion's servants.
Though they still outnumbered the Arak, undead were being pushed back. Clearly manipulating so many beings at once was proving a somewhat distracting task for a being who had not yet fully escaped from their prison. The monsters were reacting just a little too slowly, and ironically despite their shared master they fought more like a gigantic mob than as a coherent army.
That was why with one last desperate charge aided by the mighty treents Alexander managed to push his way through their lines and reach Loht.
With slow pained moments the Sith prince turned his heads upwards to look at the silver haired man.
"Behold an immortal fool! Behold the Crippled King, son of a long-lost hero, fallen far beyond death! Touch me not meddlers, unless you mean to end my sorrows by ending my life. You can harm me no more..." He hissed out.
Before he'd even reached the part about "touch me not" Alexander had already scooped Loht up in his arms, and started retreating backwards.
It was only when Alexander actually managed to achieve his first goal that Gwydion finally chose to take part in the battle himself. His spiked tail came slamming down like a gigantic mace, an ominous dark green liquid dripping from its every barb.
At least a dozen of his own undead followers were smashed to bone chips by the blow along with two unlucky muryan. Alexander in full flight had been just a little faster than Gwydion expected and thus avoided the ground shaking attack.
Gwydion pulled his tail back up, preparing to slam it down again, only to discover that it gained an unexpected passenger.
"Protect every twig and stone
Fight to keep this land your own!" Sang out the female muryan as she managed to climb up and jump from poisonous barb to another like a monkey ascending a tree.
She moved between them with ease, and swung herself up into the air. Her swords have been momentarily scabbarded soon slid back into her hands, and she began to slash away at Gwydion's tail.
Pungent dark ichor leaked from the cuts, and Gwydion's tail twisted about in blind rage, now focused on obliterating the female muryan rather than stopping Alexander.
As the silver haired man ran his constant jostling caused the Crown of Arak to bounce from Loht's head and the Sword of Arak to fall from his limp fingers. It also seemed to cause Loht some considerable pain, not that Alexander especially cared.
"If Gwydion is going to be stopped, I need your help." Alexander growled under his breath as his body began to transform.
Muscles bulged and grew, his already long silver hair grew longer and thicker still. The stuff burst from his every pore, as his gloves and boots began to retract back into his body to make room from his growing physique.
His mouth grew wider to accommodate large pointed teeth then became longer to accommodate a great many of them. His ears shot up straight and extended as bright silver fur covered them while a silver tail burst free from his spine.
Where once had stood Alexander Diamondclaw human, now was Alexander Diamondclaw, gigantic wolfman monster. The only thing about him that hadn't changed was his eyes, his left was still green, his right still the strange orangish amber color.
"Sound the horn and call the cry,
How many of them can we make die?" Loht coughed back by way of answer.
"Florence you have to keep him distracted!" He growled in surprisingly flawless Balok as he reached the roots of the treent she was perched upon before continuing on his way.
"Axes flash, broadswords swing,
shining armor's piercing ring!" Florence growled back, her voice likewise mystically unchanged by her transformation.
Alexander didn't have time to stay and listen, he had one single goal in mind, the staircase which lead up to the Obsidian Gate. A staircase which Gwydion's minions had wasted no time in claiming once their master had begun his entry into this world.
Every single kind of undead he had battled to reach Loht barred his way, crammed tightly together to the point that there might as well have been one waiting for him on every single step.
The silver furred wolfman only had one free arm to work with, his other still busy holding onto Loht.
One arm was enough.
"Soldiers stand with a polished shield,
Fight those bastards till they yield!" Alexander sang triumphantly as with mighty blows of his lupine limb he knocked aside skeletons, zombies, and creatures he could not find the name for.
One and all he struck with such force that they were sent hurtling off the staircase, often unintentionally knocking their companions behind them along as well.
A furry juggernaut Alexander advanced up the stairs, clearing a path through all of Gwydion's minions who dared to stand before him.
Their master would not be so easily dispatched though.
"YOU, YOU ARE THE MOST IRRITATING OF THEM ALL!" Gwydion's voice rumbled as still more of his body forced its way in through the Obsidian Gate.
A gigantic eye on some kind of strange blue stalk slid free, and glared malevolently down at Alexander.
As it did so suddenly from out of nowhere huge strands of darkly pulsating vines began to burst free from the stairs. They looked as if they were diseased, and yet somehow all the stronger for it, twisting, knotting, and growing with a horrible cancerous speed to block Alexander's progress.
"I am Mac Tire Cáiliúil, tremble at my howl!" Alexander Diamondclaw declared as he continued to rush forward.
"Protect every twig and stone,
Fight to keep this land your own!" The Arak and their changeling servants below called out in encouragement.
The evil wicked thorns tore at his fur and skin alike, but they could not stop him. They barely even slowed him, bleeding individual drops of blood from a hundred different tiny wounds Alexander smashed through the thorny barrier and continued on his way.
"I WILL TEACH YOU YOUR… AHHHH!" Gwydion began to threaten before he was cut off.
No doubt the strange eldritch eye had been about to let loose with an even more powerful spell, but it never got the chance.
Not when Florence Bastien had just barked out another beam of bright golden light which speared straight into this strange eye of Gwydion's and with a horrific sizzling sound it burst in spray of foul ichor.
"NO! NO PIECE OF THE REGALIA WILL PASS THIS GATE! YOU WILL NOT RID YOURSELVES OF ME THAT EASILY! NOW IS THE HOUR OF MY RETURN I SHALL BE NOT DENIED!" Gwydion insisted as another gigantic pulsating black tentacle burst free from the portal and lashed out at Alexander, determined to knock him for the staircase and send him falling to the hard floor before.
Its size was so great that it blocked the entire staircase by its sheer bulk alone if nothing else.
The silver furred wolf creature bent its legs and jumped. He sailed over Gwydion's reaching tendril and landed atop it, Alexander's powerful claws digging in through the smiley flesh to provide him with a firm grip.
He took off running again, sprinting across the tentacle, each step bringing him closer and closer to the Obsidian Gate. A gigantic hand with far too many fingers began to push against the Obsidian Gate struggling to break free.
"Long live the Prince of Shadows..." Alexander declared softly for Loht's ears alone as he leaped into the air once more.
A few seconds before it happened the sith Prince realized exactly how Alexander "needed his help" against Gwydion.
Even though his rib cage had been crushed into countless splinters, he began to laugh.
Not the low hissing laughter traditional to his breed, but a rich full belly laugh, heedless of how doing so wracked his broken body with still fresh pain.
Then it happened.
Just as the finger tips of that mighty hand began to press through the barrier, the silver wolfman hurled Loht with all his might.
One moment the prince of the sith was there bedecked almost all of the Regalia of Arak, the next he vanished completely as his body passed through the Obsidian Gate, propelled by the strength of Alexander's limbs, still laughing all the while.
The instant he passed through that mystical portal a howl of rage the likes of which had never been head before rang out.
The circle of crackling lighting which had surrounded the Obsidian Gate began to suddenly start to contract and the hand which had just broken free was pulled back through it, as was the blinded eye.
The grasping tentacle was a different matter though. The crackling lightning circle grew smaller and smaller and began to squeeze against the edges of the writhing limb.
With a sickening "SKKKSSHHH" sound they cut cleanly through the gigantic limb causing it to fall limply to the ground. That final obstacle dealt with, the circle of lightning collapsed inward upon itself until it was no larger than a balled human fist… then it was gone completely.
The Obsidian Gate had been closed completely and utterly.
There was silence for a moment.
"Sound the horn and call the cry,
How many of them can we make die?" The words rose from the throats of all those who still lived within the arena.
Almost instantly the army of the undead began to fall apart. Those who could fly or turn insubstantial did so and departed from the field of battle, while those that could not began to awkwardly try to limp away, often to promptly be cut down, crushed flat, or pincushioned with arrows. Without Gwydion's will driving them, they clearly saw no reason to continue the battle.
"How many of them can we make die?
How many of them can we make die?" The muryan joyfully chorused as they now fought not for survival but simply to see who could slay the most foes.
"This one counts for twenty!" Eagerly insisted a female muryan perched atop the tail she'd eventually managed to cut free from Gwydion's body.
After the last of his horde had either fled or been slain, the muryan who had finally run out of undead foes turned their attention back upon Alexander and his companions.
Then they began to beat their swords together in riotous applause.
XXX XXX XXX
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Cackled Loht as he floated in some vast great empty blackness before the incomprehensible true form of Gwydion the Sorcerer Fiend.
"PATHETIC BROKEN PUPPET!" Gwydion mocked the sith who no longer seemed sane enough to care, and yet was his only companion within a black void that was vast even to a being of his nature.
"I CREATED YOU! I CAN DESTROY YOU JUST AS EASILY! DOWN TO THE LAST INSIGNIFICANT SCRAP!" Gwydion's voice came booming out from what surely had to be more than one mouth.
Suffice to say, he was not pleased that Loht continued to more or less completely ignore him.
His latest comment did finally cause the sith prince to stop laughing, though it seemed nothing could banish the smile from his lips.
"I'm still going to see my father!" He practically whispered.
Gwydion summoned up a sphere of mystical forces and slammed it into Loht's body utterly annihilating the Arak Prince in the blink of an eye.
Then he was alone again.
Just his immortal body, adrift in an ocean of utter darkness.
Immortals live forever, and forever is a very long time.
End Chapter.
AN: I know what you're thinking. "I can buy a magic harmonica that can make play more music than any one instrument, and once started will keep playing even without further prompting. My suspension of disbelief is a little stretched by the fact that the Arak suddenly know the tune and the lyrics all of a sudden though!
Well don't worry, I have two perfectly reasonable explanations, and you can pick which one you like better.
The first is that James Firecat's harmonica has (had I guess now… sad kitty) the "Heartsongs" (a term coined from some the My Little Pony branch of the infinite loops fanfiction but applicable in many other settings) enchantment to it. What this means is that anyone who hears the music produced by James' harmonica will instantly gain a subconscious knowledge of the tune and lyrics to whatever song he is using it to play/sing. The subconscious knowledge will become conscious the moment that the person listening wishes to play/sing along. The Heartsong effect thus neatly resolves the "I can't believe the Devil is so unforgiving!" "I can't believe everybody's just ad-libbing!" issue.
The other possible solution is that Alex's favorite marching song is also a famous Arak battle anthem, hey it could happen!
By the way the song in question is a slightly modified (mainly just to take out references to horses/calvary since they have nothing to do with this battle) version of Heather Alexander's "March of Cambridge" (Alex must be a fan of her Ravenloft equivalent since as you may remember one chapter ago he adapted another of her works into his love song to/with Florence) which works perfectly for many reasons.
First of all still Celtic, so still fitting into the general theme of Tepest/the Fey/Shadow Fey. Second of all the song has an appropriately fatalistic bent to it if you stop and think about the lyrics. Granted, not to the extent of say "Hearts of Iron" by Sabaton, to me the unspoken aspect of "How many of them can we make die?" is inevitably "Before we ourselves are inevitably killed..." wouldn't you agree?
Thus even though the song has several lines about victory, it also has a sort of fatalistic refusal to submit in the face of all but certain death air to it that makes it appropriate for what would seem like surely a last stand.
Oh and you may be wondering about the entire "crown flies to Loht" thing that got this entire mess started. Yeah I added that in, in practice if the heroes still have the crown they'll end up bringing it close enough to Loht while trying to kill him/close the Obsidian Gate for good that it'll trigger the ritual he's working on, and Gwydion will begin to emerge. If I ran things by that approach though the heroes would have already had one part of the Regalia of Arak and so it would been much easier to banish Gwydion.
So while Cal may hate it with very good reason, choo choo here comes the MacGuffin Delivery Service, guaranteed to make your climax more tense and thrilling!
If you're wondering what Florence looks like in Greenbound Legendary Wolf shape, assume a biological version of Blade Wolf from Metal Gear Rising Revengence (maybe a little more streamlined to suggest feminine/female) except instead of just having a chainsaw mounted on her back Florence has a shifting mass of vines and tree limbs growing out of her back that she can shift/transform into whatever sort of weapon/tool she needs.
Yeah, when Florence wants to, she has a lupine based combat shape that's just as frightening as Alex's. Guess last chapter's song wasn't quite as metaphorical as it could have been….
Also in theory the sunbeams she shoots out after transforming maybe should have come from her paws, but the spell does only say "you can use a standard action to evoke a dazzling beam of intense light each round" not anything about where the beam of light emerges from, so of course as a wolf she's going to howl them out, much more dramatic and awesome that way.
Also you may remember back in the first book I talked about how most of the time the show down with a darklord would be a one on one affair? Well this is how powerful Gwydion is, I don't even attempt to pay lip service to that particular rule, this was clearly an all in attempt by every member of the group doing their utmost. Give or take Mirri of course, but I had to accurately reflect Gwydion's undead mastery ability.
That said, from the way it is written, (in Gazetteer Five) it would suggest that Gwydion has complete control over all undead in the Shadow Rift, be they intelligent or not, created by the shadow fey or not, and regardless of if he is sealed in the Obsidian Gate or not (that or I just misread it, that could happen pretty easily). Which would mean that if I was going to play that one exactly as written, he should have been able to brainwash Mirri as soon as she entered the Shadow Rift, and I doubt Gwydion is a good enough actor to have "pulled a Durkon" (read Order of the Stick) on the group, especially James.
So yeah, I'm toning down that power and saying that Gwydion only has it when the Obsidian Gate is open. After all, the entire point of Gwydion's curse is that he's supposed to have the entire "Phenomenal Cosmic Power, itty bitty living space" issue, and also that while on paper he's unquestionably the most powerful being in all of Ravenloft (CR 40 people!) in practice he's nearly as weak as Haki Shinpi (who if you didn't know is a geist and only has the power to seal his domain's borders, other than that his curse is to be forced to float around helplessly watching as his sons conduct a civil war which rips the heart out of an empire he spent his entire life striving, scheming, and backstabbing to create) all things considered.
Gwydion while he is in the Obsidian Gate gets to cast like one spell a month. Granted during the course of this adventure and the much longer period of time leading up to it he managed managed to make that one spell count as he slowly over the centuries/millenia got his pieces in place (manipulating Loht's dreams to make him believe his father had driven off Gwydion and needed to be let out of the Obsidian Gate) to make a bid for freedom.
Still to go from that "one spell a month" to giving him unlimited control of all undead in the Shadow Rift even while sealed away? That amount of undead control is an Azalin level power we're talking about! It just does not fit his theme, and so he doesn't have access to it in this story.
James counters (or at least limits the damage caused by) the control Gwydion gains over Mirri with some help form his Icon of Bastet for "presentment" purposes. Presentment is an ability that anyone of sufficient faith regardless of if they're actually a cleric/priest in their particular religion can do with their religion's holy symbol. If you truly believe in your holy symbol/god of choice, then you can force a vampire to stay at least five feet away from you, though of course this won't prevent canny vampires from just picking up rocks to hurl at your or otherwise attacking at a distance.
Then James impales Mirri's heart with a stake, which conveniently (but hey this has been established by D&D rules as far back as I can find them) will cause a vampire to become immediately immobilized and utterly unable to act… and promptly rise back to unlife more or less completely as good as new shortly after the stake is removed. Normally that's a bad thing, but in this case it is a major benefit and exactly why James carries a stake around in the first place.
Even with everyone doing the utmost, that was still Gwydion's fight to loose, and our heroes only ended up winning because of Gwydion's mistakes. That said, the purpose of a good Ravenloft adventure is to eventually have the Darklord/villain of the piece be done in by the personal vices they have refused to confront and thus allow the heroes to reap the rewards of their virtues. So Gwydion being defeated in part due to a refusal to properly wield the power that he does have is perfectly "on point" and fits the theme of Ravenloft.
To give just one example, that inky darkness he was using on Florence again and again, is a special ability he has called Shadowmaker. It lets him transform a Sylvan Fey anywhere in the Shadow Rift into a Shadow Fey as a standard action. So why wasn't Florence changed if he kept using it on her again and again? Well the Sylvan Fey he targets gets a DC 20 fortitude save to resist the effect.
Fortitude saves? For a druid? A class that gets a good fortitude as part of level progression and can wild shape into something with an absurd constitution save while still wearing wild shape magical jewelery that gives him a still higher constitution score since constitution is the second most important (behind only wisdom) stat for them?
To put it simply if you math hammer it out, at level 17 Florence has base +12 fort save, in Legendary Wolf Shape she's got a base con of 20 for another +5, and then assume she probably has some trinket or other that gives her another +4 con or something else to add to her fort save (she could have simply cast Bear's Endurance on herself to pick one not at random), and at that point 12+5+2=19, so as you can see all Gwydion was effectively doing was making Florence not roll a 1 on her save.
Save or suffer spells/abilities that only work if your opponent critically fails their check is not good combat tactics.
Likewise, he also has an ability called "Demand Submission" that can target any non shadow fey being within the area around the Obsidian Gate. It is a mind affecting language dependent ability (which isn't much of a restriction for Gwydion since he knows all the languages of Ravenloft's Core except Lamordian, Vaasi, and Forfarian) that forces the target to make a DC 23 will save or serve Gwydion completely for 10D10 days. He tries to use it against Alex at the opening of the battle but fails.
Once again to bring up that Batman quote "My brain's not a nice place to be."
After that failure, Gwydion turns his attention to breaking through the Obsidian Gate.
Also what happens with that weird eye (Gwydion's eye on a stalk not Alex's right eye) near the end of the fight is completely correct based on the book.
The eye knows a few powerful spells one of which is Wall of Thorns, a spell that I've talked about before. Alex either rolls really awesomely on that strength check or has some kind of Freedom of Movement ability that allows him to just plow through it without too much difficulty...
Then, if Gwydion's eye stalk gets struck by a major source of magic light (like Florence's sunbeam spell which also does double damage against Gwydion's or his body parts, (which is not the same thing, Gwydion is so powerful he gets to have Video Game Boss rules apply to him where each of his limbs has its own separate health bar, and he has A LOT of them) and if you were wondering, Gwydion has 648 hit points 25/magic damage reduction, and his saves are all 30+ so he was gonna make that check) then it can no longer cast magic. That's a good thing because it was probably about to try using an earthquake spell to shake apart the stairs leading up to the Obsidian Gate, well that and everything else nearby…
Gwydion also has spell penetration and greater spell penetration feats which combined with his incredible degree of power (CR 40 people!) is why his spell like attack on James was able to hurt him even when he's wearing a magic mask that supposed to be proof against all magic not coming from Bastet. Gwydion isn't a god, but he is the probably the closest thing to one Ravenloft will ever see. Dark Powers obviously excepted of course because they're more like a force of nature than an actual character.
Now eventually (in a "perfectly logical universe" something like two minutes in a reality not run by the gamblers fallacy probably longer but maybe much shorter) he would succeed. Still, when you're in the middle of a pitched battle and you're at your weakest maybe you shouldn't be spending a standard action (even if Gwydion is so powerful he gets two of them every round just because) trying to get your action figure collection all painted exactly the right color and focus on fighting?
That is the secret of Gwydion's nature, and thus the reason behind his defeat (and his capture in the Obsidian Gate itself by Maeve in the first place) after all…. For all he may resemble a lovercraftian menace with a body that could drive a man mad just by looking at it… he completely lacks their alien unknowable mind.
Gwydion is (in my opinion) nothing more than a child who is upset that his toys have dared to come to life and rebel against him. That is why he doesn't unleash some horrendous level AOE attack on the Arak force opposing him, because Gwydion wants to break their spirits more than their bodies.
The battle as written in the adventure book was not quite so grand (it had no where near as many "extras" and certainly no musical number) and instead takes place with the heroes possibly already having some part of the Regalia, and being right next to the gate it needs to be put through. The only issue they have to deal with is Gwydion's rapidly emerging body playing goalie and also possibly some Arak who attack the adventures out of habit or a handful of undead servants.
I decided to Peter Jackson the s**t out of it though and turn this into a major epic battle, or at least something approaching one.
So what did you guys think?
Oh hey this chapter also was my longest non "author commentary of the entire book" chapter. I'm going to review it again before long but I didn't want to keep you guys in suspense for super long after those fortnight updates.
I found writing this particular chapter so interesting/fun that I spent a lot of time on it before it was "time" for me to actually do so, which is why I'm able to post it so soon after the ones that came before it but were much delayed.