“Wait, are you sure?” I asked Terry.
“Pretty sure, yeah,” he said.
“What is she doing?” Burin asked. His jaw was clenched, anger in his eyes.
“She’s, um, eating that black lightning.”
“Like noodles?” Gregor asked helpfully.
“Pretty much,” Terry admitted.
There was a burst of flame within the fog, and it began to disperse. As it did, the scene it revealed was surreal. The plateau was where the enemy general had her command post. She was dead, as were a Triaxian and a gold dragonkin – likely the source of the flame, if I had to guess.
Standing over the corpse of the enemy general – a beautiful white dragonkin – was Segrit. She was, as Terry described, absorbing black tendrils of crackling shadow, though she wasn’t so much eating them as breathing them in, like condensed smoke.
There were three others with her. I recognized Vasily immediately. He was still wearing his robe from before. Next to him was one of those stupid guardsmen. Bill, I think his name was. And next to him was that elven woman I could have sworn we’d killed in our last encounter with Segrit.
“Malesinder is dead!” Pharamol said. “This is amazing! Are those your friends?” We’d been talking in Taldan. Of course he didn’t know what we’d said.
“Not exactly,” I replied.
“Then what…” He didn’t get to finish the question. As Segrit finished absorbing what had to be the demon fragment from the dead general, a shockwave of shadow exploded outward from her. It spread for miles.
As the shockwave passed, it had some kind of effect on dragons and dragonkin. Their eyes turned black, and they began to strike out with frantic rage at anything near them. From our perspective, it was just fine as this began happening within the ranks of the enemy army. But then it began affecting our own people.
We had only a moment of notice before Amarenth lashed out at the closest person, Terry. Gregor acted immediately, deflecting the blow and then knocking the dragonkin out with a single swift kick to the temple. Pharamol, panicking, drew his weapon. “She’ll be fine!” I shouted, pulling his arm down. “But we won’t, not if we don’t bring down Segrit before her rage can infect anyone else!” Okay, so I was guessing, but it was the only reasonable explanation I could come up with at the moment.
“It’s time for that bitch to die,” Burin said as he cut his palm and froze his axe to his hand with the blood. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so angry.
“Getting there might be a problem,” Terry said.
“I can do it,” I said. “But I’m already pretty low on spells. If I get us there, I may not be able to get us back, and we’ll be trapped at the center of an enemy army.”
“We can help!” came the call of the nearly blind Triaxian Jarilne, who I recognized from the council meeting. She was the leader of Spurhorn’s spell casters, the Ice Seers. Next to her was a pair of her lieutenants.
“Magical flight coming up!” the lieutenant on her left said.
“And I’ll boost your speed!” the lieutenant on the right added.
“Please hurry,” Pharamol said. “The longer you take, the more likely it is that we’ll be forced to kill our friends, or they’ll end up killing us.”
“Do not worry,” Gregor said. “I have been looking forward to killing Vasily for a very long time.”
“We do owe them for last time,” Terry agreed.
We came in hot, landing about fifty feet from our foes, who were busy watching the chaos unfold around them. As we landed, the elven woman spotted us. “Oi! Didn’t expect to see you all here! Hey, Bill! Look who it is! Fate is kind and a bit cruel it seems. Funny, innit?” That was most certainly not the voice I remembered her having before.
The guardsman dressed in black leather turned, but before he could speak, Terry interrupted. “Hey, didn’t we kill you once already, Steve?”
“I got better,” the elven woman answered. “Bigger, too,” she said, emphasizing her breasts.
Terry ignored her. “And you,” he said, turning to the goth guardsman. “What are you trying to be, exactly?”
“Bill, of course,” the man answered, his expression clearly showing his annoyance at the question.
“As much as I’m enjoying this chatter,” Segrit said menacingly, “I must interrupt. Thank you for coming all this way. It saves me the trouble of hunting you down. Convenient.” She pointed a clawed hand at Burin.
“Time to die, bitch,” Burin said, smacking his buckler with his axe. Segrit said no more, instead charging. Burin unleashed a ray of negative energy, draining away a bit of her lifeforce mid charge before she hit him with a solid but non-fatal blow from her horns. As she charged, Terry fired at her, scoring a decent hit of his own, but not slowing her charge.
Vasily, who had been silent up until this point, charged, shouting, “Show me your blood!” at Gregor as he swung his strange wavy dagger. He hit the fighter with a glancing blow. Gregor retaliated with a flurry of blows, only one connecting solidly. “Heh. I thought you’d be stronger by now,” Vasily taunted.
Hovering about ten feet above and a bit behind my companions, I was the perfect target for the vengeance-minded guardsman. “This is for STEVE!” he shouted, drawing his bow and unleashing an arrow. Pain shot through my body as an arrow embedded itself in my stomach.
“Thanks buddy!” the elven woman who I refuse to call Steve hollered.
“Anytime, mate!” Bill hollered back.
More than pain, I felt anger. I felt a keen annoyance at having to deal with those two once more. And more than that, I was pissed at having been shot. But the anger didn’t burn white hot. Instead, it was icy cold and filled with an empty hunger, like the void of space itself. “BEGONE.” I said to Bill. And then he wasn’t there anymore.
For a moment, I thought I saw him appear floating in the starry expanse, struggling to breathe in the cold vacuum. And I felt a smug satisfaction as I carefully landed. “Healing potion!” I told Nebula as I began pulling out the arrow. Yeah, I know that’s a bad idea medically, but I was in a hurry and I had healing potions. I’d be fine.
Gregor and Vasily exchanged blows, and at one point, Vasily looked to have the upper hand, but then lines of light surged through Gregor as his nanite infection empowered him and healed many of his wounds. Vasily, shocked by the sudden change, choked in dismay as Gregor renewed his assault.
I heard the elven woman chanting a healing spell from within the fog near where they were fighting, but in the end, Gregor triumphed. Vasily coughed, blood pouring from his mouth. “Sergei would be proud,” I heard him whisper as he collapsed to the floor.
“Too bad,” Gregor said as he brought his foot down on Vasily’s throat to finish him off. “Almost.” Vasily died with a soft, wet crunch.
Burin and Segrit continued fighting. As he fought, he became more draconic in appearance, growing both claws and fangs. Her spiked body made it difficult for him to hit her with either attack, so he still primarily used his axe, but still managed to bite her at least once. “You’re not looking so good, are ye, lass?” Burin taunted his foe.
Segrit answered by screeching incoherently.
Terry, rather than shooting Segrit, fired into the fog. “What are you doing?” I asked.
“Shooting the healer before he escapes!” Terry answered.
Oh hell no. I wasn’t letting that one escape again. I swallowed the healing potion Nebbie poured into my mouth and cast an immense fireball into the fog. It exploded, instantly evaporating the mist and revealing the smoking, twitching corpse of the elven woman.
The blast also hit Segrit in the back, knocking her down and finishing her off. “Damn!” Terry shouted.
“Make absolutely sure that thing is dead,” I said, pointing at the elven corpse as I drew my healing wand and tapped Burin before heading over to heal Gregor.
“On it!” Terry said.
Before I could reach Gregor, the air shuddered and a shivering Bill reappeared where he’d been before I’d banished him. His eyes were covered in ice from where the cold had begun crystallizing the water in his tears. He looked in horror at the corpses of his comrades. The last thing he saw before Gregor charged him and knocked him out was Terry putting a bullet in the skull of his once more dead friend.
“Don’t worry, I still love you,” Gregor said as his fist slammed into the man’s head. “I want to keep him,” Gregor said, sounding drunk as he looked at the unconscious guardsman. “I will name him Barnaby Two.”
“Are you okay?” Terry asked.
Gregor waved his hand dismissively. “I’m fine, small child man.”
“Grab the nanite gun,” I told Terry. “Use setting two. I think he’s suffered minor brain damage from the emergency nanite activation.” I have no idea if that was even a thing that was possible, but it sounded like I knew what I was talking about.
Daddy would have been proud.
As we talked, Segrit lay there, quietly bleeding out. As she took her last gasp of breath, her corpse sat upright and the shadowy tendrils burst forth, pouring into Burin. After several moments, it stopped, and there was another explosion which knocked him from his feet before rippling through the battlefield. As this one passed, the fighting stopped, Burin’s calmer emotions overwriting Segrit’s primal rage within the dragons.
I pulled the dwarf to his feet. “Are you okay?”
“I don’t know,” Burin answered. “But being okay was never necessary for being a Burin. I’ll miss the vacation, though.”
“We should hurry and loot,” Terry said. “And then get the heck out of here.”
“Yeah, the chaos is starting to die down,” I agreed. “Take what you can. Put another bullet in the heads of the corpses.” I wasn’t taking a chance of running into these people again.
“What about Bill?” Terry asked.
“Don’t hurt Barnaby Two!” Gregor whined. Apparently the nanites would take some time to help him.
“Fine,” I said. “We’ll take him with us.”
We grabbed everything we could carry and I cast flight magic on everyone, followed by a spell to speed our movement. Even then, we were chased by angry enemy dragonkin. Only the Spurhorn defenders taking to the air let us get back safely.
I used my few remaining spells to launch fireballs back into the enemy as we reached our allies. That improved my mood quite a bit.
We were met with cheers as we landed. Not surprising, as the enemy army had begun to break apart and rout. We were heroes. Soldiers were looking at us in adoration. I could have spent the whole night getting laid, but my conscience twinged at fear that Greta would be hurt if I did.
Dammit. I still loved her, but being married kinda sucked.
That night, there was a grand celebration. We were given gifts by the people of Spurhorn. They didn’t have much, but they dug through the gathered spoils taken from fallen invaders and awarded quite a bit to us, with the express intent that even if we couldn’t use the items, then Cortana could turn them into something we could use. There was even a special elixir that Cortana had never seen before that she scanned and learned to make.
They did award us one extraordinary thing. While searching through the archives, the old man found a lost treasure, the Shield of the Dragonfoe. Yeah, it had belonged to Burin’s ancestor, so we easily agreed it was his. I’ve never seen a shield like it. The magic in it somehow allowed Burin to cast spells even with his hand occupied, and it was somehow tied to Burin himself, or maybe dwarves in general. We tested it, and I couldn’t do it.
After the awards came the feasting, and then I had a couple of the young soldiers help me set up a flaming jump rope and we did some fire-dancing and drinking. Gregor, feeling better, did an impressive job showing off. What he lacked in the finer dancing graces, he made up for with sheer acrobatic talent. Burin tried juggling torches to show the people of Spurhorn that torches weren’t something to fear, but his skill at juggling left a little to be desired.
Terry pulled a guitar from his case – I didn’t even realize he had one in there! – and played the music for the dancing. He was actually rather good. He even knew a couple of the songs Daddy had brought to Golarion twenty something years ago.
Bill was remanded to the custody of Spurhorn. He would be placed in their dungeon until he was taken to a city to face justice for his role in helping Segrit cause the frenzy that had resulted in the death of several of Spurhorn’s defenders.
That night, we were woken by screaming from Burin’s room. His nightmares were back with a vengeance. “I haven’t missed this at all,” he said.
“Is it under control?” Terry asked warily.
“Yes,” Burin said. “I think so. He’s stronger, but so am I. I can handle it, for now at least.”
“Then that is fine,” Gregor said. “Perhaps one day you will be free of him.”
Burin shook his head. “I doubt it. But thanks for the kind words.”
Sometime later, Gregor was looking at Cortana’s list of wares wistfully. “What are you looking at?” Terry asked.
“The box tells me that there is an armor it can make that will allow me to transform into a giant for a short while. As I am liking the way the boots do the same thing, I was hoping to make some. Unfortunately, I am still a bit short on funds to make it, even though I have gathered the required skins.” Oh, I remembered seeing the armor he was talking about on the list. It was literally made from the skins of giants. A bit ghastly, if you asked me. But it’s not like he’d killed them just to take their skins.
At least, I hope not.
“How short are you?” Terry asked. Gregor punched up his account and showed Terry. “Wow, that’s quite a bit. But not to worry. I can spare that much, as long as you pay me back later.”
“Are you sure?” Gregor asked.
“As far as I know, I’ve got most of what I need to bring back Emily. I can spare a bit. Besides, if it helps you fight, that’s less weight I have to carry.”
Gregor ignored the jab. “Thanks.”
“No problem.” I’m pretty sure Terry was just trying to earn back his trust after the whole suicide thing, but it was still pretty sweet.
In the morning, we sat down with Spurhorn’s scholars to try to decipher the clues as to the location of the second key. It took over an hour, but finally, we realized that the mirror and tusk had to be the clues to the location, which was revealed as Ivoryglass, the stronghold of the dragon warlord Yrax, who had sent his army against Spurhorn.
Which meant that the second key was a bear skin, or something having to do with a bear. The back of my skull itched. There was some kind of association between a bear and a two headed eagle that meant something to me, but I couldn’t place my finger on it. I even had Cortana do a search through all notes on Golarion for such a link, but she couldn’t find anything either. I really should have paid more attention to Daddy’s lessons on Golarion.
“So, how do we get in there?” Burin asked.
“There are two ways that I know of,” Pharamol told us. “You can try sneaking in close through the Rimekeening Crevasse, or you can try going in through the front door.”
“I favor a frontal assault,” Gregor said. “Fewer enemies left when we’re done that way.”
“No, we should take the crevasse,” Terry disagreed. “Get in, get what we need, and get out. And, maybe blow the place up on our way out.”
“We’re not exactly good at sneaking,” Burin argued. He had a point.
“We don’t have to decide immediately,” I said. “We’re going to need to get the hut and move that way anyway. We’ll take a look, if the front way seems too dangerous, we’ll backtrack and take the crevasse.” I turned to Pharamol. “Speaking of which, we need help plotting out a road we can drive our hut down.”
“We can help with that,” Bescaylie said from the doorway. “Efrixes and I will scout you a path.”
“Not alone you won’t,” Pharamol disagreed. “You’ll take a full squadron with you. There are bound to be pockets of deserters from that army out there, and I will not lose anyone I don’t have to.”
“Understood, sir.”
That decided, we set out the next morning. Burin showed up wearing some beautiful – if a little creepy – new black spidersilk robes depicting a demonic dragon. I think they were like my dress, boosting the magic power in his blood. Mine was patterned after the cosmos, mirroring the power in my blood. That his bore a demonic dragon was a bit disconcerting.
But not as disconcerting as what Gregor was wearing. I had thought I was prepared for the reality of armor made from the skins of giants, but I was wrong. It was well made, but just seeing that pale blue leather turned my stomach a little. There was even a scorch mark where the giant had been hit by my fireball.
Gregor was wearing the skin of a giant I had killed. Eww.
Terry was overjoyed to get to ride alone on the back of Shatha, the dragonkin we’d saved before, while Burin and Gregor looked a little more nervous at riding the backs of the dragonkin Nevra and Talsune respectively. Talsune looked a little nervous at being ridden by the guy who had been skinning other dragonkin just a couple days prior.
I flew on my own, because I could. Soon, we’d be driving the Hut. Maybe, before we left, I’d have it do donuts in Ivoryglass’ parking lot.
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