EPISODE 64: SWORD AND SPEAR

Corwin saw Vash crumple to the ground. A brief flare of yellow and red light surrounded Zakarias and the part-elf fell like a puppet with its strings cut. Galia shouted something, but Corwin was too far away to hear it. The sorcerer slowly kneeled in the circle of slowly awakening Wayfarers, his hand raised slightly in Vash's direction.

No! Corwin thought, not paying attention to anything else, just seeing his friend fall. Not both of them. I can't do this alone!

"Corwin, what are you doing?" Sera called, but it was too late. Corwin was already moving, long legs pumping, building speed as he charged the line of Scalebacks and Nightscales that watched the actions of the sorcerer with interest.

Deep inside, Corwin latched onto the Talent he always held in reserve, the one Jabez always cautioned against. Outnumbered, with the enemy on the verge of forming a Dungeon Heart, Corwin thought it would be prudent to use his best weapon.

He had heard other Wayfarers speak of their Talents like puzzle pieces snapping together, or a key turning in a lock. With other Talents, like Enhance Ability, Corwin agreed. But this Talent, it was like stoking a fire. First came the spark when he locked in the formula in his mind, then he fed it a steady flow of mana and felt it grow stronger and hotter inside him. Finally, he let the Talent draw what it wanted from his Core. That was when the inferno raged inside of him. Corwin's sight became red at the edges, he felt his muscles soaking up mana like sponges, and he let out a roar of fury that made the Scalebacks ahead of him turn and cringe in terror.

Corwin's first slash lopped off the head of a cowering Scaleback, a fountain of blood gushing into the air as the severed skull went flying off into the shadows. The next cut through the spine of the bewildered Scaleback standing just beyond. It squealed pathetically, its legs suddenly useless.

A Nightscale whirled, teeth bared and ready for battle. Corwin kicked the towering lizard in the chest, sending it flying backwards, tumbling to the ground. His Danger Sense flared, alerting him to the Scaleback that leaped towards his unprotected back. With his Rage running hot, Corwin sensed the attack with ample time to counter it. Corwin spun, the pommel of his sword slamming into the Scaleback's temple. The bones of the creature's head shattered and collapsed beneath the savage blow. It fell, boneless, to the ground, making small spasming twitches before finally dying.

The other defenders of the temple finally realized that they were under attack, turning away from the spectacle of the sorcerer and the rogue and facing the new threat.

A knot of Nightscales charged Corwin, spears raised. He parried the first attack, sending the spear point wide and opening the Nightscale's guard. Corwin brought his sword back the other way, feeling the blade bite deep into the Nightscale's hide. When he completed the slash, only a thin trickle of blood showed on the lizard-man's chest.

Damn damage resistance! Corwin fumed. He hit the Nightscale with a pommel strike, not killing it like he did the smaller Scaleback, but sending it reeling and clutching one eye. A sudden jolt from his Danger Sense made Corwin take a sudden side-step. The jagged tip of a Nightscale spear scraped along his breastplate, leaving a shiny silver line in the dark gray metal. Corwin almost laughed at the near miss, but the Nightscale brought the butt end of the spear around and caught him in the torso.

It was Corwin's turn to stagger away in pain. His armor and Rage, mitigated most of the strike which would have cracked multiple ribs in ordinary circumstances. There was no feeling of snapping bones, but Corwin could feel them creak to their limits.

Snarling in pain and anger, Corwin felt that fire within him flare a little hotter. He battered at the Nightscale over and over, sword flashing, his eyes blazing in barely contained fury. The Nightscale tried to block, but Corwin's sword sliced through the haft of the spear with terrible ease. Backpedaling from the savage attack, the Nightscale took hit after hit to its body. The Nightscale's natural armor lessened the damage of each slash, stab, or cut, but the sheer number of blows soon had it bleeding and staggering. Corwin summoned Savage Strike, feeling his muscles surge with strength when he brought his sword down in an overhand blow.

The Nightscale's hide parted with a horrid tearing sound. Wailing in anguish, the Nightscale toppled backwards, blood and innards spilling from the ghastly wound. Corwin stood over the creature, chest heaving, Rage sending tendrils of fire through his blood.

"Tha'velos!" a voice intoned from somewhere behind him.

Corwin turned to see a Nightscale, its spear raised for a deadly strike, looming behind him. A flash of white light appeared behind the Nightscale, then its chest erupted in a spray of dark blood and chips of shattered bone. A pale white bolt of energy passed through the Nightscale, then fizzled out a few feet after exiting its chest.

The Nightscale fell and Corwin spotted Galia, an aura of white arcane energy surrounding her outstretched hand. A few of the captive Wayfarers were on their feet and helping Galia wake the others. Vash could see Sister Clea and Master Edda going from one shrouded form to the next. Several Scalebacks lay dead with savage burn wounds. Behind her, Vash still lay unconscious on the ground with Zakarias kneeling above him. The huge, scarred Nightscale stood guard over the sorcerer, tail twitching as though daring anyone to come challenge him.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Corwin's eyes locked on the massive Nightscale. His blood boiled, Rage burning in his veins. His vision reddened at the edges, and he felt his lip curl into an animalistic snarl. He was running towards the scarred creature before he even realized that he'd started moving. Other Scalebacks tried to get in his way, block his progress. Corwin swatted them aside with quick, savage blows.

Normal Scalebacks screeched and fell off to the side, nursing huge gashes in their chests, arms, or stomachs. The Nightscales pulled back, surrounding the Wayfarers and keeping them hedged in.

Charity was shouting something behind him, but Corwin had locked onto his target and nothing was going to stand in his way. A rational part of his brain told him that this was why he tried not to use Rage. The focus needed to keep from just attacking anything and everything that gave him a challenge was still out of Corwin's reach. He needed the power and the extra damage at this moment. If it made him more reckless, so be it.

The huge Nightscale was only a few paces ahead of him now. It twirled its huge spear, a length of petrified wood nearly as long as its wielder was tall, like it weighed next to nothing. Anticipation was the only way to describe the look in the Nightscale's one good eye. The yellow iris almost glittered in the dim moss-light.

A cool tingle passed over Corwin, at once strange and familiar. His sword then glowed a pale green, and he grinned.

Let these bastards feel some power of the gods!

The one-eyed Nightscale roared, a deep, powerful sound completely unlike the screeches of the lesser Scalebacks and even the other Nightscales. The sound touched something deep and primal in Corwin's mind. His Rage almost faltered, but he kept hold of the anger, ignoring the sudden rush of fear that threatened to overwhelm him. Leaping forward, more gracefully than Corwin would have guessed such a massive creature could manage, the Scaleback stabbed down at him with its spear. Its body a blur, Corwin barely felt his Danger Sense trying to warn him. Luckily, Corwin was already in motion, ducking low to make an upward thrust. The spearhead missed him by a hair's breadth. Corwin pivoted, turning the thrust into a wide slash as the creature passed him, aiming for its thighs or the thick scales of its tail. The Scarred One turned its body in the air and swept the haft of its spear around to deflect Corwin's attack. Green sparks flew when the blade struck the petrified wood of the spear.

Corwin felt a reverberation from where the sword and spear made contact. It was like they had struck a discordant note when they came together. That was when he noticed the faint purple glow around the Scarred One's spear.

I'm not the only one getting some help from the Celestial plane. Corwin thought. Well, Infernal in this thing's case, I suppose.

The harsh ringing of blade and spear made both combatants stumble back, away from one another. The Scarred One shook its head, like it was trying to clear away an irritant. Corwin took the opportunity and lunged at it, sword extended and using all the power his back foot could give him.

The Scarred One noticed the attack almost too late, twisting to block. Corwin's sword scraped along the haft of the spear, giving off a discordant ringing as the opposed powers scraped against one another. The Scarred One almost parried Corwin's lunge perfectly. But, the Wayfarer was slightly faster than it expected. Before the Scarred One could push Corwin's sword away from its body, the point bit into its chest and shoulder. The huge Nightscale roared in pain, its blood hissed as the blessing reacted with the corruption that infused its body.

Smoke rose from the Scarred One's wound as Corwin dragged the point across its torso, the blessing allowing the sharpened blade to do actual damage against the creature. Corwin braced his feet and pushed forward, stepping in and forcing the sword deeper into the Scarred One's flesh.

Corwin could smell the creature's fetid breath as he pushed against the sword with all his might. Pressure from the Scarred One's spear only increased the damage as it pushed Corwin's sword across the Scarred One's body, leaving a long, smoking furrow. A strange, gray ichor oozed down the creature's chest. It sizzled and hissed where it came into contact with the blessed sword. Wriggling gray-white worms dropped out of the Scarred One's wound, striking the stone floor with tiny plak sounds. One worm fell on the back of Corwin's hand. He felt a sudden burning sensation. The skin where the worm landed turned a sickly gray-black color, and Corwin could feel the worm burrowing its disgusting head into his skin.

Corwin stepped back, pulling his sword from the Scarred One's wound. He took several steps away before reaching down the pluck the squirming grub from the back of his hand. Corwin crushed it between thumb and forefinger. It popped with a sickening squelch. Thick, brown liquid splattered over Corwin's fingers and he hastily flicked them to one side. His hand still burned from the burrowing worm, but at least now it wasn't getting any worse.

For the first time, Corwin got a look at his situation. He and the Scarred One stood in a circle of Nightscales, who also kept the Wayfarer sacrifices hemmed in as well. Outside that circle of jet-black lizard men, Corwin could hear sounds of combat. Charity's staff rang like a bell every time she struck an opponent. Sera kept calling the names of the gods, beseeching their aid. Light, in various colors, would appear around her hands for a moment before she sent it out in a rush of Celestial energy.

Vash lay behind him, Galia standing over his body with her hands in a complicated position, beads of sweat running down her face. Corwin could just make out a thin tracery of glowing blue lines in a dome around her, Vash, and a small group of Wayfarers that she had wakened. Corwin could not feel any mana coming from the newly freed sacrifices, not even an echo.

We may be on our own. Corwin thought, trying to hold Rage steady while he felt the familiar creep of despair around the edges.

He shook his head, as if he could dislodge the thoughts that plagued him. Corwin looked up at the Scarred One, gray ichor running in thick rivulets down its chest, corpse-white worms squirming in its wound, knitting the flesh back together. It stared at Corwin, and he could feel the hatred coming off the creature in waves.

"If we're on our own," Corwin said, voice a harsh growl, and lifting his blood-stained sword once again. "Then let's make it an end that the Bards will sing about."

The Scarred One lifted its spear, a low rumble starting in its chest, lips curling back from crooked, yellowing fangs.

Corwin grinned, an expression that promised violence, not joy. "Well, come on, then. I haven't got all day."

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