The collective roar from the Warden lines shook the earth beneath their feet. Capitalising on the opening granted by the Maker himself, they collapsed onto the stumbling darkspawn like flies onto a carcass. Blades clashed and whistled through the air, biting into flesh and removing limbs. Howls of pain, raw and inhuman hung over the battlefield just as much as the smell of death. Leading the charging line was Rannon, who had his eyes on some bigger game. Just behind him ran a woman in her late-twenties, struggling to keep up with the much fitter soldier. Gold and baby-blue robes, stained by mud, blood, and darkspawn ichor trailed behind her. Hair the colour of pale barley flowed in the wind.
Hissing, the Emissary dropped back to plan B. Since his advancing line was being hindered by an unknown mage, a new one was required. Taking a long burnt-bronze dagger from a sheath at his waist, the blade was placed lightly against the wrist of his left hand. “Qu-” Rippling and distorting as it left his lips, the word was unintelligible by the time it reached Rannon’s ears. A few too-long seconds passed. “-us.” Again, impossible to make out, the word came for the second time. Hysterically, at fever pitch, the Emissary chanted one final time. Flowing clearly out, now there was no doubt as to what it said.
“Quietus.”
Blade slicing deep into the creature’s wrist, ichor sprayed through the air, coming to rest inside the circle below. A single thundering pulse released from it, as the black rings blazed red for a brief moment. Silently, the fabric of reality tore apart before the soldier’s very eyes. A single rip, millimeters wide but around 9-foot tall, statically floated in mid-air. The woman stiffened beside Rannon ever so slightly, trying to run faster. Two hands, made from something resembling pitch-black leather appeared through the tear, foot-long blades protruding from each of the eight visible fingers. Light green and white energy sparked off as the hole was made bigger, stretched by the demon forcibly exiting the Fade.
As the dwarf ran towards the fallen Warden-Commander through every obstacle she met, it didn’t take long before she drew very close to Celica. Racing forward, slamming into a few more Wardens on-route, a figure in a long brown hooded cloak landed in front of the dwarf. Blocking her charge, the woman spoke, with a tonal mix of anger and intrigue. “The enemies are over there,” she pointed with the tip of one dagger towards the hole in the ground. “Perhaps you can’t
quite see it?” This time, her voice was sarcastic and cold, making the underlying challenge clear.
The thing walked out, struggling to squeeze through the gap which snapped shut behind him. Standing tall, it reached around 13-feet, just over double the average height of the Wardens present. Three large spikes crafted from dark red bone stuck out from its shoulder blades. A bone-plated tail whipped viciously at the wind. That armour covered most of the vital parts of the demon’s body, including the head. Two mighty horns curled from the tip of it’s head round and angled forwards, menacingly. Taking a deep breath in, the demon of Demise seemed to drain the energy still clinging to the dead and dying from both sides of the battle. A soft glow washed over the dark armour, as the thing chuckled.
“Come, little children. Come and play.” For it’s size, the damn thing was fast. It almost blurred past Rannon and the mage, bound for a much bigger prize. It crashed into the Warden lines and began digging in, skewering soldiers on it’s tail like kebab meat, tearing the top and bottom half of people apart, and using those powerful claws to render armour useless. The demon stalking unhindered through the dying ranks of soldiers, the mage behind Rannon didn’t stop, still heading for the Emissary.
The rugged soldier skidded to a stop, fear and anger mounting in his breast as he beheld the great Demon that surged forth. It passed him, and he lashed out with his huge sword on instinct, but it missed by stark inches. As his mind caught up with him, he yelled for Gideon to leave it be. He knew in his heart he wanted to face the bigger threat, but he couldn't let more demons be summoned. Still, he was torn. His heart and mind fighting an inner battle that his physical self couldn't deal with at the moment.
"You!" he heard from the woman running with him. He blinked, spinning to regard her. "We need to take that damn mage down. It’s imperative for it to live, but make it suffer."
His iron eye flitted to the ravaging Demon, before resting on the mage once more. Clearly she had a plan, and it coincided with what he had in mind as well. He didn't need to be asked twice. Even with the roar of battle, the mettle in his rough voice could be heard.
"It would be my pleasure."
He suddenly took off once more, Gideon at his left as he ran. He gave out a mighty battle cry that his companion echoed in an almost deafening roar-like bark. They thundered forward, gaining ground before the Emissary even knew they were fast approaching. "Split!" Rannon commanded, and Gideon began running in large leaps to and fro, back and forth, still advancing but moving in a serpentine line. Rannon did the same, he and his best friend having drilled such moves in their practices for years to confuse mages or archers. Still, the Emissary spun his staff and let out a word Rannon couldn't comprehend, summoning a damning Hex forth. A wave of roiling energy burst outwards. The soldier leaped to the side, but this wasn't something he could dodge.
Suddenly he felt weaker, sickly. The man's skin tightened along his bones and he coughed, his throat suddenly as dry as a desert. But still he moved onwards, shaking back the effects as best as he could and thanking the Maker that it seemed like most of the Emissary's magic was spent.
Rannon gave a cry as he pumped his legs to leap as far as he could, only for him to instead dive downwards. Gideon barked, causing the Emissary's next spell to go a fraction too slow, and Rannon's sword clove upwards from the ground, splitting the thing from balls to waist. Like a shot from a trebuchet, Gideon slammed into the Darkspawn and bit deeply into his arm as they both sailed to the ground, heavy paws planting on its chest.
"Don't kill it!" Rannon cried out, hacking another cough before standing up. This magic couldn't last, he knew that. He stood tall, gazing at the carnage that was being wreaked upon the wardens, and he heard himself say, "But you don't need to be gentle either."
Rannon shook himself, as if the magic was dust that he could scrub off of him, and ran over to kick the Emissary in the head to see if that would undo the effects of the Hex. It seemed to do nothing, but luckily, second by second, he felt himself getting stronger and hardier. His hold on his sword was more solid, and he steeled himself. "Keep him there!" he ordered his Mabari, and Rannon was preparing to charge back towards the lines, his weak legs now picking up speed along with power.
Offering a grim smile, the female mage spoke. “You two sure don’t do things in halves, do you?” Grabbing the free arm of the darkspawn mage, she dragged him into the circle of now-crusted ichor. Kneeling down, with both mages inside of the circle, the woman scanned the area briefly as though looking for something. Eyes fixating on Rannon’s boot, she gave the large Mabari a quick tap, signalling for it to let go. While preparing the spell, she spoke to the man. “You were running ahead of me. Did you hear it’s name!?”
He looked down at her with an incredulous stare.. “Yes?” he replied, not sure what the significance of that was, but told her anyway.
Grinning, she replied. “Perfect, we might have a shot at stopping it now.” Then, grabbing the short knife from the soldier’s boot, she pushed him back with enough force to move him outside of the magic circle which then snapped shut by force of will, energy swirling within. Her left hand planted firmly on the Emissary's head, the demon’s name roared from her lips. “Quietus!”
It responded instantly, twirling round and darting across the battlefield towards them. The woman’s right hand, holding Rannon’s dagger, slammed down into the heart of the darkspawn mage causing it to gurgle. A lance of unseen force blew through Quietus’s heart in a streak of red mist, just as it had the Emissary’s. It didn’t deter him, however. A second lance pierced it’s head, as the dagger landed between the eyes of the thaumaturgic link-doll. Bringing it above her once more, it dug deep into the thing’s stomach, but had no effect on the demon. The Emissary was dead.
Horror twisted the woman’s face, as she grabbed her staff, swore, and rose. Blood poured from the wounds, but it still continued on. Charging up a spell using the leftover energy which had poured forth from the Fade, lightning crackled around her left hand, pointed firmly at the demon seeking to end her. Watching from the sidelines, it looked like the blast might not cut it.
Rannon’s powerful legs pumped as he ran forward, scarred and ruddy face set in a snarl as he swept his blade up in a wide arc. A war scream tore from his split lip, and with frightening realization to all who looked upon him, he was suddenly within melee range of the Demon.
The blade came crashing downward, rending a tear into the creature’s flesh. But the experienced swordsman didn’t count on that to kill, simultaneously stopping and backpedalling as he struck to keep out of reach of a counter. Sure enough, a horrific clawed limb shot out, missing his head as he backed and ducked by a hair’s breadth. He rolled to the side roughly, narrowly missing another limb slamming into the ground.
He found his feet, and knew he was out of both energy and options. The hex had left him, but battle had taken its toll and he bled from tears and cuts from the Maker-knows-where. He set the last of his strength in his legs to send him launching forward, left hand on the hilt of his sword and right hand pressing into the bottom of the pommel to stab the huge blade through the horror’s head. Time seemed to stop as he stood there, poised after the strike. Rannon, covered in blood and grime, shuddered from exhaustion and adrenaline suddenly. He fell to his knees and gasped haggardly.
He couldn’t help but give a hearty grin when he heard a familiar whine and felt a huge Mabari tongue lapping at his face. “H-Hey, quit it.” He breathed, giving a very dry chuckle from a parched throat. Despite his words, he leaned over the dog and lifted an arm over Gideon’s broad shoulder, as much of a hug as to keep him upright. “I’m glad you’re safe too.” He whispered.
Blinking, unsure of what to say or do, the mage dispelled the gathered power around her. As it crossed the boundaries of the circle, there was an audible crack as it’s integrity was compromised. Deep down, she was thankful, as uncertain most definitely didn’t cut it with regards to her power winning out against a demon. Speaking of which, it was cleanly impaled on the massive sword. Finding purchase inside the jaws of Quietus, it has severed the spinal cord of the demon through the back of it’s head. The thing wasn’t dead. Not quite. Despite that, the only control it had over it’s body, now, was flicking it’s eyes back and forth due to the sword having paralyzed the beast. The hilt lay in the mud, propping the demon up.
It howled with a bubbling rage, before death finally claimed it. The darkspawn, having seeing the great demon fall, routed. Running as fast as they could, they began vanishing into the The Verge once more. Approaching Rannon, the female mage offered a warm smile and began working some low level healing magic, giving him some slight relief from injuries and fatigue.
Meanwhile Celica, lying in the ruined remains of a tent somewhere in the camp muttered about mages and their cheating ways.
