Eyes Without Faces

[Ozymandias]

The heavy clouds billowed in an out in a slow stacatto that put Kikuyu in mind of one of the few live sushi dishes she had eaten (and regretted).

 

Leaves and smaller branches in the surrounding stretch of forest had caught flame, and flickered silently. Noone spoke; not even Wyvern. Heartbeats ticked away the silence.

 

 

Equipped with predator's hearing, Wyvern heard it first; a strange noise of something heavy flying through the air, but with a faint chime of metal.

 

It was no thrown weapon, though her own remarkably sensitive ears had been assaulted by a series of close range explosions this day, Kikuyu knew this immediately. The echo betrayed a balance that was all wrong.

 

All saw the brief flash of metal and white as it landed undramatically in the grass with a small rustle. It was a chunk of skull -an eye socket, scorched- with the top half of a sword jammed through it point first.

 

 

Walnut's nose flinched involuntarily. It was the first time since their battle had begun that he smelled fear on his comrades-in-arms.

 

 

The furious cloud of thick ash finally began to settle, and the elbow of an arm that was easily six feet long, ivory, and had never been born in nature.

 

Wyvern swallowed hard, eyes bulging. Kikuyu simply stared, feeling the crawling numbness that had been threatening her heart since her sister had been taken begin to send hungry tendrils forth again.

 

The arm swung forward at the shoulder, and did not stop until the entirety of the monster pitched forward onto the ground with a dull crash. There was no left side to it's torso or pelvis anymore. Everything above the stump of half a collarbone was gone. There were no lights, otherworldly or otherwise around the thing now.

 

 

 

 

The trench that ran beside and behind Wyvern stirred, and the portion near his tail asked groggily, "Where..is the orc? ..the wolf?" In the trench was Ozymandias, miraculously unscathed, save for being very, very dirty, and swordless.

Edited July 1, 2008 by Ozymandias

[Hjolnai]

It seemed that Sir Ordolar was gone. All that remained where the orc had stood was a pile of scorched earth. The group rested after the ordeal of the battle, but when they were ready to move on, there was still no sign of life. They said a few words in memoriam, then left.

[Sir Walnut]

The battle came to a close, Walnut having done nothing worthy of noting. Walnut paused for a moment, giving the fallen knight a moment of silence. The explosion had deafened him, so silence was the easy part. Walnut was barely standing, his ears ringing out in agony. He looked around. The others seemed slightly stunned, the heavy armor simply gone. But Walnut didn't worry for he was sure he would see the orc again. No one with a noble soul died in that fashion, He was sure of it.

 

Then, Walnut realized that he was very dirty. The explosion and covered him in grit and dust. He set about dusting himself feverishly, worried that the suit might have been damaged. Moments later he let out a sigh of relief, the dirt was gone and the suit itself was unharmed.

 

"Well! Shall we sally forth? This Dego is in need of our assistance! Sir Ordolar wouldn't want us to dally.", He said in a surprisingly cheerful tone.

Edited July 1, 2008 by Sir Walnut Reginald Trouble Clamhat

[Hjolnai]

Hours passed, and eventually a faint groan could be heard, though none remained to hear it. Then a dark form tore from the earth, and unsteadily climbed to its feet. The soil clung to the strange figure, but soon it fell away, revealing armour so polished it could almost be a mirror. There was a small tear in the armour, revealing a mess of burnt dried blood and dirt. The wound was obviously painful. The creature painfully searched the area it had climbed from, and brought out a huge sword, shining brightly. Still somewhat confused, it took three tries to sheathe the sword on its back. Then it spoke, and the voice was an orc's. "What happened?" It leaned against a tree to recover, and soon stood again and searched the area. There were many destroyed skeletons, and a crater where the orc had been lying when he first awoke. Memory of the battle returned, and the orc, now revealed to be Sir Ordolar, said, "Where are they?". He found his pack where he had dropped it before the fight, and took it. They wouldn't have left without good reason. Were they captured? Or did they leave me to die? He looked at the crater, then collected his thoughts more clearly. I was half-buried in the mud. I must have seemed dead and gone. Sir Ordolar carefully cleaned and bandaged his wound, then searched for tracks. Minutes later, he was moving silently through the woods, following the hunting group.

[Wyvern]

Wyvern continued hissing apologies to Kikuyu and the others under his breath as he moved on through the woods, the ashy remains of his Almost Dragonic Brand Collapsible Umbrella Sword™ dangling from one of his claws like the limp piece of short blackened wire it was. The overgrown lizard's eyes darted about as his wings brushed against some jagged leaves, his tail twitching in tiny nervous movements as he marched closely behind Kikuyu for protection.

 

"Ssssorry again for the bad timing, I ssswear that the arial assault woulda gone well if I'd jussst gotten there a bit earlier." Wyvern cleared his throat and rubbed a claw on his chest in an effort to accentuate his "brave attempt" argument, only to have the claw go limp at the sight of more stray zombie limbs off the beaten path. The reptilian Elder gulped and picked up his pace a bit. "N-nexxxt time, I'll try n' use more ground-basssed methods, and trust me, I'll be prepa-"

 

Wyvern froze as something suddenly grabbed onto his horns.

 

"-aaARGGH!"

 

The rest of the party turned and drew their weapons as Wyvern flailed about for a moment, only to go glum as they noticed the tree vines that the overgrown lizard's horns had gotten stuck in. Sir Walnut Reginald Trouble Clamhat rolled his eyes and cut Wyvern free from his captivity with a flick of his blade.

 

"Really, Wyv, you should calm down a bit." Sir Walnut sighed and re-sheafed his blade, watching as the almost dragon's trembles slowly faded. "The forest's not about to rip you to shreds."

 

"R-r-right." Wyvern drooped his scales and rubbed his horns sheepishly as the rest of the party grumbled amongst themselves and began putting their weapons away. He stammered for a moment and pointed a claw towards a clearing ahead. "So uhhh, th-th-that glowing over there isss jussst the reflection of the moonlight through the s-s-ssstorm clouds, right...?"

[Degorram]

The Necromancer's face was lit up in golden light as a huge explosion tore through the trees not far from their clearing. The resulting shockwave made the earth shudder. A hot wind thrust itself through the forest and tossed the trees about, extinguishing the torches with an invisible fist. Robes and long hair rippling in the torrent of air, he gazed up at the thick clouds of black smoke unfurling and dissapating, throwing themselves across the moon and plunging the glade in blackness.

 

Through the inky dark Degorram heard a musical muttering and then a pale green light fizzled like a sparkler into existance. The Necromancer turned about, holding the tiny illuminating flame in his palm. The light cast flickering shadows on the rocks and trees; every blade of grass had two dancing shadows.

 

All was silence. The Necromancer stood frozen, his eyes searching the forest for any movement, any glimmer of armor or blade. Degorram watched him, entranced by the silence: she dared not breathe.

 

* * * *

 

"No, Wyvern," Kikuyu said softly, "that's not the moonlight." She felt the cold metal of the necklace around her neck. It refused to glean her body heat, as if reminding her that it was on the wrong body.

 

"Devilry," Ozymandias muttered.

 

"Necromancer?" Walnut whispered, glancing around at his companions.

 

Kikuyu nodded and stepped towards the clearing, eyes hard. "Necromancer."

 

* * * *

 

The trees rustled and the Necromancer's thin lips curled into a smile as the branches were pushed aside. The group - wet, filthy, bedraggled - emerged from the forest's grip into the circle of the clearing.

 

"Welcome," the Necromancer said, narrowing his eyes at them and bowing from the waist. "I'm sure you've had a devil of a time getting here." He grinned again and slid his eyes over the group. "Dear dear....you look like death."

 

"Where's--" Kikuyu began fiercly, but cut herself off as her eyes fell upon the box. "Dego...." she whispered.

 

The Necromancer turned slightly and glanced at Degorram. "Ah yes," he said, connecting his eyes with Kikuyu's. "There she is, nicely bundled up."

 

Kikuyu drew her katana and leveled it at the Necromancer, finding it difficult to breathe in her anger. "Release her," she said icily. She felt the firm grip of Ozymandias' hand on her shoulder.

 

The Necromancer sighed. "A request I will simply have to ignore," he said. "Though, by all means, you can attempt it yourself. That is," he added nastily, "if you have time." He raised a hand and clenched it into a fist. Behind him, the box began to steadily contract.

 

"No!" Kikuyu yelled, her face paling. She took a step towards the box, but felt Ozy's hand on her shoulder again.

 

"We kill the Necromancer," Ozymandias whispered into her ear. "Let another take care of the box."

 

Behind her she heard an eager hiss. "I'll do it," Wyvern snarled, eyes blazing.

 

Ozymandias glanced around the clearing at the dozen zombies that had begun to move forward. "Sir Walnut, can you try to keep those off of us for the time being?"

 

Sir Walnut grinned wolfishly and crouched down. "My pleasure," he growled.

 

Degorram braced her feet and hands against the box's sides, grunting with the exertion of keeping it open. If she wasn't able to shift into something smaller soon, something would break. Already her shoulders ached with the cramped spaces.

 

The Necromancer frowned as the large wolf charged into the ranks of the zombie elite, tearing at their chests and faces with its teeth. He jumped back as a spell of some sort charred the place where he had been standing. Looking up quickly he saw the elder and Kikuyu leaping towards him.

 

The Necromancer laughed and tossed the little green flame into the trees beside him where it spread like wildfire from leaf to leaf until the whole clearing was lit with the green blaze.

 

Kikuyu gave a yell as she brought her katana down towards the Necromancer's head. He swept one of his arms upwards and a pale green glowing shield appeared where his arm had gone, causing her blade to glance off sharply. With a curse she tried another blindingly fast attack and received the same magical rebuttle. The clearing flashed with Ozymandias' spells and the sparks from her blades as they dueled, the Necromancer seemingly never touching the ground.

 

 

"Degorram!" Wyvern cried as he slid to a halt near the box.

 

"Hey Wyv," Deogrram grunted, now curled into a ball. "Little help?"

 

Wyvern felt the whole box over with his claws, frantically searching for a clue. "Can you ssssshift into sssssomething sssssmaller to give ussss more time?"

 

Degorram glanced at the Necromancer. "He might be distracted enough.....let me try." She took as deep a breath as the space would allow and shut her eyes.

 

Wyvern grinned with relief as the black mouse stared beadily up at him. "Great," he said. "Now how doesssss thisssss thing work?"

 

"It's magic," Degorram squeaked. "Try everything!" She scuttled around the box, searching ever nook and cranny as it continued to collapse.

[Kikuyu_Black_Paws]

Kikuyu raced behind Ozymandias, flipping as a glob of green fire exploded near her feet. The Elder swerved along with her, continually keeping his body between the Necromancer's magical attacks and Kikuyu's complete inability to fend them off. From behind him flew three kunai, curving around his body like no naturally thrown kunai should. The Necromancer snarled, throwing out his arm as if wearing a shield.

 

The blades glanced off, spiraling wildly in several directions. Ozymandias filled his lungs, arching his back as he did so. Then, like a taut bow, he snapped forward. From his mouth shot a dozen golden arrows, all twisting in different directions so as to come at the Necromancer from front, sides, back. The Necromancer laughed, crouching down into a tight black ball. The arrows hit their mark with sickening thuds.

 

Another green explosion rocked the ground from the side. Kikuyu leapt away, the sole of her sandal smoking. Ozymandias crouched behind a large bronze shield sprung from the air. Kikuyu glanced at the old Necromancer's shell, now resembling a great gold pincushion. The body melted and sagged, disappearing into the grasses with a fierce, acidic hissing.

 

Kikuyu took a gamble-- running forward, she leapt onto Ozymandias' shoulders and vaulted over his head. The Necromancer grinned at her as she soared upwards, slicing down with her katana.

 

The blade glanced off with a shower of sparks, sending Kikuyu flying forward. She twisted, flinging three paper cranes at the Necromancer's back. He turned; the cranes exploded in his face.

 

Kikuyu landed on her knees and hands, sliding in the dew-wet grass. She looked up, a smile beginning on her face--

 

The Necromancer stood, blasting the smoke away from him with an irritated shriek. Black blobs stretched from his chest, broke away. In a moment four of them were flying at Kikuyu on webbed wings.

 

Kikuyu yelped and dodged, jumping as high into the air as possible. She drew her feet up under her tightly, watching the first blob streak underneath her. The second scythed at her side. Kikuyu arched wildly on her descent to land on one foot, her other propelling her in a dipping circle-- the third blob narrowly missed her ducking shoulders. Kikuyu straightened, her hand gripping her katana tightly.

 

The fourth blob zoomed into her sight from nowhere. Kikuyu was hurled backwards as it slammed into her face, membranous wings curling around her head. The glob covered her mouth, nose, and eyes fully.

 

Kikuyu dropped her katana as she crashed into the ground, striking her head sharply on the earth. Her hands scrabbled at the goo preventing her from breathing or seeing. Stars popped in front of her eyes as her brain and lungs screamed for air. Dimly she heard someone screaming-- whether it was Dego or Ozy she couldn't tell. Strong hands gripped her chin, trying to pry the black goo away from her mouth.

 

The bright stars in front of her eyes turned red. Faintness gripped the back of her head and her grip on the blob grew weaker. Wildly, without thinking, Kikuyu drew a kunai. With a wild flail she slashed it at her own face, cutting deeply into her ear and the blob.

 

The blob trembled, its noiseless shriek vibrating through Kikuyu's body. She dropped the kunai and gripped the blob with both hands-- it turned ashy under her fingers and those of the hands helping her, tearing the tar away from her face.

 

Kikuyu had never inhaled so quickly in her life. She could not get enough of the air as she coughed bits of black that had forced themselves into her mouth and lungs. A hand smacked her fiercely-- Kikuyu saw a flash of purple; the helping hand disappeared again, into the darkness to plow into a rotting wall of flesh.

 

Nearby Ozymandias was standing inside a glittering orb of light, face to face with the Necromancer. Kikuyu blinked through a shifting tunnel at them and stumbled to her feet. What I wouldn't give for some magic right now, she thought angrily. Her teardrop tattoos would not glow again for several days. She felt naked and weak.

 

Suddenly the necklace around her throat turned hot. Kikuyu gasped and yanked at it-- the twisted metal was glowing red and sparking.

 

"Grip it in one of your hands!" Degorram's muffled, squeaky voice carried across the clearing. Kikuyu glanced at her twin. The mouse's eyes were wide and trusting.

 

Kikuyu slapped her hands around the metal. Surprisingly, the red hot shape was cool and tingled on her skin, like mint in her mouth. A tiny shockwave burst through her and the air around her changed.

 

She couldn't see it, but she could feel it. As surely as the sparkling orb clung around Ozymandias, something that smelled distinctly shifter, distinctly Degorram, was balled around her. Kikuyu picked up her katana, the tunnel of exhaustion peeling back. The Necromancer's eyes slid towards her, his mouth curled into a snarl of rage. Ozymandias barked, his arm moving as the Necromancer's attention slid from him to the girl at the edge of the clearing.

Edited July 4, 2008 by Kikuyu Black Paws

[Ozymandias]

With surprising speed, the Loremaster removed the point of his spear, and hurling it in a straight line Kikuyu's teacher would have admired.

 

"I know you heard me the first time, whoreson.", he snarled quietly.

 

 

At that exact moment, Sir walnut Reginald Trouble Clamhat felt hands at his neck. They were strong, but gentle. They were slipping something over his head.

 

"Wear this," a voice that he immediately recognized whispered. "It will protect you, but only once." So did Kikuyu. So did Wyvern, who immediately recognized an amulet of protection- a thing he'd not seen since Terra.

 

 

 

The javelin, as it was now revealed to be, struck home in their black-garbed foe, and another explosion rent the air as a lightning bolt flew from the dark skies to eagerly caress the javelin as it lodged deeply in its' target.. the tang of ozone filled the air.

 

 

Ozymandias drew his knife and charged at the Necromancer, glinting blade ready. Seventy other Ozymandiases did the same. "Drown.", they said as one.

[Wyvern]

"OK, j-j-j-just ssstay calm Dego. Stay calm." Wyvern twisted his snout and poked one side of the box with a claw, causing it to shrink again. "Ssstay calm, STAY CALM!"

 

Wyvern jittered nervously as he watched the Necromancer toss his black blobs at Kikuyu, absent-mindedly brushing a claw across the surface of the box and making it shrink again in the process. He raised a claw to his mouth and tapped on the surface of the box as he watched Kikuyu free herself from the attack, making the box shrink a bit further with every tap.

 

"WYVERN!"

 

"Oh, r-right, s-s-sssorry Dego. Jussst all the action y'know, t-tryin to hurry things up here. Hmm, maybe if I just carefully poke my claw between these corners?"

 

Wyvern squinted and carefully lowered one of his claws to what appeared to be a tiny crack between two of the box's sides, breathing slowly as he very carefully inched it towards the miniature opening in an effort to not shrink the box any further. The overgrown lizard bit his lip and tensed up as the claw neared the opening, moving it extra slowly for the final few centimeters...

 

"Wear this."

 

Wyvern's concentration was broken as one of the many Ozymandiases handed him an amulet of protection, causing him to fumble with the box and making it shrink again in the process. The reptilian Elder cursed and threw his claws up in the air as the crack that had once been there shrunk into nothingness. He stomped his foot on the ground at Dego-mouse's look of despair, then teared at the scales on his head and stared up at the sky for a moment.

 

"OK j-j-jussst stick with me Degorram, I gotta plan." Wyvern opened his sack of items and stuffed the amulet of protection into it for auctioning later, then pulled a large worn tome entitled "Almost Dragonic Brand Universal Box Opening Guidebook™" from the depths of the bag. He flipped through the book in desperation, searching for some method of opening magical boxes that didn't involve tearing off wrapping paper. "Hmmm, maybe if I just turn it around here..."

 

Wyvern turned the box in his claws to get a better look at, causing it to drastically decrease in size and crushing Dego-mouse a bit in the process. The lizard stammered and dropped the box, cursing and flapping his wings in a frantic state as he tried to decide what to do.

 

"Wyv... I... can't...... breath...."

 

"Damnitall!"

 

Wyvern pulled at the scales on his head and angrily kicked the box in frustation, shattering one of its sides and freeing Degorram in the process.

[Degorram]

The side of the box shattered and from the opening a dark swath of churning smoke poured, bursting forth like water from a dam. From its depths a figure lept into the air, two angular points of white light catching Wyvern's attention as it skyrocketed towards the tree tops.

 

He looked up, mouth gaping open at the sight of Degorram flying upwards, muscular grey wings causing the grass below to bow to the earth under gusts wind. Her skin and hair were pitch black, her very white teeth bared in a feral snarl. Colorless eyes fixed on the dueling Necromancer across the clearing, she landed in a tree, hovering upon the leaves. A barrier of what looked like fireflies seemed to be coursing around her body, moving so fast that their lights drew streaks in the night air; Wyvern could see it where it touched the leaves, causing them to flutter away from it.

 

The sound of the shattering glass caught the Necromancer's attention and he glanced across the clearing just in time to see Degorram leap into the trees, magical energy bouncing off the leaves and showering around her like sparks.

 

Beware the wings that sleep at night.....

 

He felt as if someone had delt him a terrible blow to the chest and he stumbled, his concentration broken. All of a sudden he felt very, very vulnerable.

Edited July 9, 2008 by Degorram

[troubled sleep]

Jolinar followed the crowds out if the room and towards the battle. Pausing in the hall, she opened the window, leaned out and reached out with her thoughts. Mind open as it was, she could hear the thoughts of those around her--the confusion was melting away, fear remained but also a sort of steadfast resoluteness that made Joliee's heart swell. This was their home, and they were going to protect it, no matter what. She could feel, rather than see, the necromancer in the distance, but the tendrils leading from him to his abominations were perfectly clear in her head. They were dark, and glowed with a sort of anti-light in her mind's eye. They were strong cables, but they were thin and her mind was quick. She was bending the cord, blocking out the necromancer's pull on the creature, she was so close--

 

And then the necromancer's mental jab hit her, throwing off her concentration, sending her sideways and causing her to crack her head on the windowsill and slide slowly to the floor, unconscious.

 

She wasn't sure if it was minutes or hours before she started to feel anything at all. But it took her mere seconds to see that she was not in the waking world.

 

She had never been stuck in a dream before, never been unconscious against her will. None of her training had prepared her for this. She tried all her usual tricks to wake herself up. Nothing. She fretted in the dream. What if she never woke up? What if she stayed here, alone forever? Where was here?

 

She looked around and found that she was sitting in the same place where, presumably, her physical body lay unattended-- on the floor in a hallway, just below the window. It was deathly quiet, and the whole scene glowed with the unnatural light of a true-dream rather than the altered colors of her earlier future-dreams.

 

"You know, if you'd never left Halen, none of this would have happened."

 

Jolinar jumped, startled first by the voice and then by the sudden and inexplicable appearance of a man beside her.

 

She turned to look in shock at the man next to her. He was as she had last seen him nearly six months ago--still needing a haircut, needing sleep, and still dressed in the same iron grey Halenite uniform with the moon sigil and a five-sided star on the left sleeve. The moon marked him as a Dreamer's Companion, the star as specifically the protector of Jolinar d'Etoile.

 

"Matthew--" she whispered, but he continued on without acknowledging her. She noticed with a sinking heart that his image flickered from time to time, as though it were being created by someone far away who wasn't fully concentrating on maintaining the link.

 

"What do you think you're going to accomplish here, hmm? What do you think you can do? You're no good with a weapon, your visions are being controlled…besides pray, what can you do?"

 

She drew her knees up close, well, was this real or wasn't it? She looked again at her friend--it was a good reproduction. There was one way to tell: "Well…" she didn't quite know how to phrase her thoughts, "I never told you before, but I can be a telepath…I could--"

 

"Joliee…you know better than anyone that some futures just can't be changed. They are going to die--all of them. This place will burn. The necromancer has to win. It's already been written. You had your chance to change the future, and you failed. All you can do now is run--come back to Halen. Stay out of this realm, there's nothing here for you." Jolinar looked at him closely, but didn't say anything, eyes wide. "Look," he continued, "you had this image in your head of how noble it would be to lay down your life, save your sister, run off into the sunset. Well, I hate to be the one to say it, but she's ditched you, left you alone in a foreign country in a Keep full of strangers. You were poised to become the greatest Dreamer in generations, and you traded it for you telepath sister and her hopeless Rebellion. You're a silly little girl, Joliee, it's time for you to face your mistakes, give up and move on. You don't owe anyone here anything."

 

Jolinar just sat there for a moment, not saying a word. Her large eyes filled with tears and she didn't bother to wipe them away. Matthew--or whatever was pretending to be Matthew--continued to speak, talking in detail about the evils of her choice to stay here, of the inevitability of the necromancer's victory. She knew he wasn't real. He hadn't even blinked when she told him she was a telepath. Matt was one of the biggest telepath haters she knew, but the necromancer wouldn't know that if he just picked someone at random out of her head to hound her.

 

"And I wanted so much for you to be real…" she whispered. And she did, with all her heart. Matthew had always been her comfort, her best friend. Once again, her greatest gift used against her.

 

"What was that?" the thing that looked like Matthew asked.

 

"I never told you why I left or who my sister was. I never told you anything about that…I said," she straightened, pulled herself to her feet and looked down at him, "that even an untrained telepath like me can recognize a mental projection. You're just another trick, 'Matthew'…well know this, necromancer, it will take more than memories to break me, now once and for all, get OUT!" she closed her eyes within the dream and concentrated on building up and thickening her mental blocks, pushing out everything that wasn't hers. She drove it all out--remnants of the necromancer's power, her doubt, her fears, all of it was pushed out into the flotsam and jetsam that make up the spaces between thoughts. When she opened her eyes again, she was alone in the hall. Taking a deep breath, she tried once again to wake herself up--

 

Struggling to open her eyes, Jolinar tried to make sense of the sounds that suddenly bombarded her. She pulled herself up to the window and took in the scene. It had started to rain during her sleep. It seemed she'd been out for hours. She could feel fatigue pulling at everyone, sapping energy, but not resolve. Jolinar's messy hair wasn't so out of place now--everyone had a sort of tousled look about them now. Wounded were still few, fatalities none--thank God!--but the fight was not going well. The zombies, monsters, eyes-without-faces, whatever they were, they were not slowing down. Not for one single instant. The Keep's own magic and the light pouring out from every window and every chink down into the massive hoard did keep some of the worse forms of shades at bay, but the zombies still kept coming. She watched for a moment, as a mass of what looked like kittens started attacking the head of a zombie with a vengeance. Then her attention was grabbed by a pack of animal-shifters, also tearing away at the oncoming hoard.

 

She sunk back down beside the window. She was so tired. And sore. And bruised. She closed her eyes and leaned up against the wall, gathering her strength and her wits. Everyone else was doing their part. Now it was time for her to do her's.

 

Standing up again, she leaned out the window, this time making sure she held the windowsill in a grip that even the toughest mental distraction couldn't break. The last thing she needed was a repeat of earlier.

 

At random, she picked a monster out of the crowd. Using her thoughts as fingers, she curled them around the line connecting it to its master.

 

Warily, she closed her eyes, plunging into the world of thoughts. Immediately, she jumped right back out. She had felt the necromancer immediately. What if he waited for her again, outside her mental blocks? If he managed to get inside her head again? What if he burned through her mind, leaving her dribbling on the floor or--worse still--trapped her in that weird, pseudo-dream state forever?

 

She opened her eyes, blinked a couple of times. Stretched out in front of her was the impossible hoard of the necromancer; above and below her were her fellow Pennites, fighting with all their might through sword and magic; all around her was their love, their solidarity. Closing her eyes again, she gathered as many of the little cords connecting puppet to master as she could manage and then grabbed for more. Sweat beaded out on her forehead, she gripped the window ledge for support, and, with a greater force of will than she thought herself capable of, pulled at them until they snapped, ricocheting back to the necromancer. The impact sent her stumbling back into the hallway and she nearly ended up on the floor again. She wasn't sure what would happen, whether the zombies would stop, or just become even more violent…but losing all those minions could at least slow the necromancer down a bit, break his concentration. If nothing else, Jolinar noted with a weak smile, all that mental energy coming snapping back at him would break the concentration of even the strongest telepath.

Edited July 16, 2008 by troubled sleep

[Sir Walnut]

"My pleasure," Walnut growled.

 

He started to change, first his clothes, then his form. The large red wolf slammed into the zombie elite. He tore at their faces and chests and limbs. The clawed at him in response, leaving blooding trails through his thick fur. He snarled in anger then let out a howl that spoke volumes. He squared off with a rotting corpse and leaped. A blur of movements later and the creature was no longer whole. This had allowed the monsters to grab the wolf, their limbs grip was like iron, having the strength of the dead on their side. The wolf whined in pain as their fingers dug into his flesh. Suddenly, gentle hands placed something around his neck.

 

"Wear this it will protect you, but only once."

 

Walnut remembered that he fought not only for his life, but for the honor of the pen keep. He ripped free, leaving clumps of matted bloody fur with bits of flesh still clinging to them in the hands of his attackers. A sudden flash of light illuminated more of the area and he saw a disturbing sight. The pieces he had torn from his foes were clawing their way towards him. Well, he thought, I really must work harder to put these things down. So he rushed forward knocking one of the dead upon its back . Then he crushed the beasts head between his jaws, the ichor dripping from his fangs. If you had ever doubted a wolf's ability to smile, the face the wolf made would have convinced you other wise.

 

Suddenly, an alien scent, mixed with the throbbing, pulsating scent of anger. Across the clearing, Walnut could see a strange black creature with wings escape from the box that had confined Degorram. Good, he thought, this battle ends soon.

Edited July 7, 2008 by Sir Walnut Reginald Trouble Clamhat

[Wyvern]

"Alright you!" Wyvern wiped the rain from his scales and pointed an accusatory claw at the Necromancer. "I've had jussst about enough of you bullying my friends, not to mention waging war on my favorite exploitable Keep. I think it'sss time for you to face Almost Dragonic Brand Justice."

 

The Necromancer stared at Wyvern with a somewhat amused look as the overgrown lizard stood up straight and spread his wings in as menacing a pose as he could muster... which probably verged on a kitten minion level of menacing.

 

"You jussst had to get my scales wet didn't you? I HATE getting my scalesss wet." Wyvern hissed at the Necromancer and pulled out his patented Almost Dragonic Brand Vampiric Batting Ball Boomerang Slingshot,™ raising it to the sky in a semi-heroic barbarian pose. "Well, it'sss all over for you now. No chance to turn back or sssurrender once this baby is fired."

 

Wyvern gripped the Almost Dragonic Brand Vampiric Batting Ball Boomerang Slingshot™ tightly as the Vampiric Batting Ball fluttered energetically within it. He gritted his teeth and flailed about for a moment, pulled against his will by the Batting Ball and narrowly dodging several zombie lunge attacks as he stumbled through the clearing. The overgrown finally managed to harness the Slingshot long enough to pull a few turns and let the net open, tossing the Vampiric Batting Ball in the Necromancer's direction.

 

The Necromancer stood still and raised a brow in confusion as the Vampiric Batting Ball soared in his direction, wondering if this was some sort of elaborate joke intended to break his concentration or if the almost dragonic member of the party was really serious. He shrugged and swatted the Vampiric Batting Ball back in Wyvern's direction with a light flick of his hand, smirking and laughing as the Ball connected with Wyvern's head and immediately knocked the overgrown lizard unconscious.

 

"Is that pitiful attempt the best you can do?" The Necromancer yawned and turned his attentions back to the more serious threats of the party. "I've faced goblin scum with stronger weapons."

 

The Vampiric Batting Ball ricocheted off of Wyvern's head and hit a strong tree branch, rebounding off of it and bouncing around several treetops before zooming back in the random direction of the battle field. The Ball knocked into one zombie, only to bounce and decapitate another zombie, only to begin ricocheting between zombie minions like a high-speed game of Pong, offing the Necromancer's minions at an alarming rate.

 

"What manner of trickery is this?!"

 

The Necromancer gritted his teeth as he watched the zombies fall at a faster rate than he'd deemed possible, preparing a new spell in the hopes of summoning backup...

[Hjolnai]

Sir Ordolar marched silently through the woods, barely limping despite earlier events. He kept his sword drawn, spreading light before him. Suddenly, he saw a group of zombies charging at the suddenly-visible Sir Walnut. Despite the massive headache and ringing ears which remained from the shrieking skeletal monster, Sir Ordolar charged instantly. His first blow tore right through a zombie, leaving two halves. As he turned to strike down a second zombie, he saw that the halves of the first were already gripping his ankles. Thinking quickly, he clubbed the second foe with the hilt of his sword, hurling it into a nearby tree. The zombie was impaled, and so that particular foe was trapped. Then he reached down, grabbing each half of the first zombie with a huge hand, then hurling the pieces into the canopy of the tree. With immediate threats removed, he looked to where Sir Walnut was fighting magnificently, slicing sinews while not separating limbs. The werewolf was managing to keep back an astonishing number of foes with seemingly no ideas, so Sir Ordolar spent a few precious moments in thought. He was left with one idea to get rid of the zombies. They had to be trapped. As he turned to rejoin battle, he saw the real foe. Once again, he thought quickly. His strength could do little to stop spells, so he would be of most aid delaying zombies. However, there was one thing he could do. He took his smaller shield from within his larger, and hurled it a great distance, straight to Kikuyu. He shouted, "It may reflect his spells!". Not even waiting to see if it reached her, he turned back to the zombies and charged into a great mass of them. He slammed into a small group, sending them flying. He swung his huge sword with massive force, cutting several Undead to pieces. If they could not be trapped, reducing them to dust might work. He cut through the mob again and again, but soon disembodied arms covered him, tearing at his armour, seeking an opening. He stabbed the ground, then put his gauntleted hands to good use, tearing the skeletal limbs from him and crushing them. He fought on and on, but the shattered bones kept attacking.

Edited July 12, 2008 by Hjolnai

[Kikuyu_Black_Paws]

Something flickered at the edge of Kikuyu's vision and she whirled, her katana slicing down to parry whatever undead attack it may be. Her eys widened as her attack went wide, allowing something large and shiny through her defenses...

 

The shield, coated in a 'good-natured' magic, slid through the invisible shifter energy around her. The metal edge smashed into the side of Kikuyu's head, knocking her to one knee.

 

Kikuyu held in several curses as the world lurched around her in a flurry of bright sparks and whirling shields. She struggled to her feet again and shook her head. "Thanks Hjolnai," she muttered, casting a not-so-unvenemous glare the knight's way, "but I already have one."

 

The ninja did another double take as she stared at Sir Walnut battling the zombies. What had been a mere dozen of the vile fiends was now a tiny sea of body parts, bits of flesh, and decapitated torsos. Several arms and legs were inching their ways towards Sir Walnut and Sir Ordolar, as well as Wyvern's still unmoving body.

 

Kikuyu snarled, glacing Ozymandias' way. The Elder seemed to be holding the Necromancer's attention...once Degorram was ready, the final attack would have to do it all: there would be no second chance.

 

Kikuyu glanced up at Degorram. "Ready yet?" she screamed.

 

Her sister turned white eyes towards the ground, a fiendish grin curling over her face.

 

"I'll take that as a yes," Kikuyu muttered.

 

The ninja sprinted towards Wyvern and kicked a squirming arm away. There was one last jar of pepper dust left.

 

Kikuyu opened the jar and sprinkled the dust on Wyvern's nose. "Wakey wakey!" Kikuyu dropped the rest of the dust on the ground in front of the Elder's snout and made a break towards the Necromancer. Perhaps the Almost-Dragon's explosive sneeze would add to their attack...

 

"NOW!" Kikuyu shrieked.

[Degorram]

Degorram felt the energy inside her building to a peak. Any minute now she'd have enough to make her attack. Any minute now.

 

Her eyes had narrowed into tunnel vision and now all she saw was the Necromancer and the small area surrounding her. She watched Ozymandias duel him without feeling, saw the Necromancer flick the bat ball away without effort. A zombie's arm flew through the air, collided with the lights that were swimming around her and, in a shower of golden sparks, evaporated.

 

With a terrible scream Degorram shot forward off the tree, arms stretched towards the Necromancer. Ozymandias, noticing her advance, took a step away from the Necromancer, a small smile on his face.

 

The Necromancer turned and followed his gaze just in time to see Degorram about to tackle him. He raised his arms in desperation and the shields he had been using sprang into life to envelop his whole body. Degorram collided with the shield but instead of bouncing off she stuck to it like a fly on glue. She strained against it and forced her head through it, snarling.

 

The Necromancer looked up and smiled into her eyes. "Oh my darling little monster," he hissed. "How you've grown up."

 

Degorram bristled, her breath sizzling hot between her bared teeth. At the peak she had been taken over by the howling in her head and was no longer capable of communication. She strained forward against the shield, muscles stretching with the effort.

 

"You won't get in," the Necromancer said. "You're not strong enough." His face darkened and he glared. "I will not end here tonight," he snarled. "I will not be beaten. I will not lose all I have worked for." He gripped Degorram's chin in one hand. "When this is over your soul will be mine."

 

Fire coursed through her body and she bolted forward. One clawed hand jerked through the shield, slowly followed by her forearm. The Necromancer let go of her chin in shock and watched horrified as she ripped her shoulder through the shield, her other arm following her. She reached out and gripped the Necromancer's neck in one of her own hands and brought his face close to hers. With a terrible effort she managed to grate out one word.

 

"Die....."

[Ran Yoko]

Sora was panting hard, and almost fell from the sky. Xiao caught her, cautioning, "Don't push yourself too hard." The Wind Rider nodded, and flew down to where she had left her bag, now where some of the pennites had set up a first aid station. She found and gulped down a fireflower potion, it leaving a slightly spicy aftertaste in her mouth. She turned towards the advancing zombies, and making sure no other pennites were near, blew.

A huge stream of fire shot forward, turning lots of zombies into ash. As the fire died down, she looked up and caught Blackjack as he fell from the sky, back to his normal form of a beagle.

"okay. . .i'm tired," he wheezed.

Sora set him down and set a large juicy sausage near his mouth where he could eat without too much effort. "Yue!"

Yue became a huge brown wolf with a pearl-white horn on top of her head, and snarled as she hurled herself at the zombies. Sora gulped down a sundew potion, and felt her strength returning. She still chose to sit for a few minutes, and eat something.

 

OOC: nice thing about zombies, there's always lots of them to kill. My pets are gonna continue fighting, unless the Necromancer is killed before I get back on. In which case, they'll change back to normal, and we can celebrate, or whatever's gonna happen afterwards.

[Hjolnai]

Sir Ordolar was growing frustrated at the way in which the unstoppable zombie limbs kept grasping at him, despite repeated shattering and crushing. Still, the ancient bones gradually thinned in number. Bone dust and rotting flesh coated the ground, and eventually Sir Ordolar ran out of foes. With no joints, the Undead could hardly move, and so Sir Ordolar paused to take in the battlefield.

 

Looking to the Necromancer, he saw the enemy staggering and wounded. Still, the Necromancer was dangerous. The dark caster hurled dark magic in several directions, trying to force Degorram off itself. One wayward blast struck Sir Ordolar's fallen shield. The spell knocked the shield flying into the air it had so recently falen from, but the magic was redirected to be absorbed by the Necromancer's arcane protections.

 

With all immediate foes neutralized, Sir Ordolar decided to see if he could do anything to help killing the Necromancer. Once again, he broke into a lumbering run, and shouted, "Aasharam! For Justice!". However, the noise completely failed to distract the Necromancer. The orc charged onward...

Edited July 12, 2008 by Hjolnai

[Sir Walnut]

The joint less undead couldn't move enough to be a threat. Sir Ordolar's strength and skill had been very useful Walnut thought. The large wolf limped toward the unconscious Wyvern, a trail of wolf blood mixing with the ichor and rot of the undead. He whined, his injured paw grasped by a severed hand. He cocked his head, raising his remaining ear and caught a single word.

 

"Die..."

 

He really wished he could, but he could not stop. Not until his new home was safe. He grabbed the severed, rotting flesh in his jaws and tossed it away. A deep breath caused his nostrils to burn, the pepper on Wyvern flying into his powerful nose. The pepper? Oh no...

Edited July 12, 2008 by Sir Walnut Reginald Trouble Clamhat

[Kikuyu_Black_Paws]

Kikuyu rushed the Necromancer. Ozymandias was a gold blur in the corner of her eye. They would converge at the same time. All three would then be able to attack simultaneously...it had better work...

 

Kikuyu unsheathed her katana and slapped her palm against the blade. The sword rang sharply and the bells attached to the hilt chimed sweetly. Gripping the hilt in both hands, the ninja sprinted. Degorram's back grew larger; she saw the shifter moving aside, making room, her hand still on the monster's throat...

 

Kikuyu lifted the sword above her head, screaming as she poured all of her strength into the descent of her blade.

[Ozymandias]

In the keep, Ozymandias is in his room. He silently plunges a dagger into his side, and jerks it backward with all his strength, spilling out a kidney into his outstreched hand. He smiles, even as tears stream down his face, and he has bitten through his tounge without feeling. His knees buckle, then straighten.

 

He looks out the window as a shadow creature rushes forward with a speed impossible for those hampered by friction, bearing thread and a needle.

 

The necromancer gasps as a handful of control is wrested from him by the same brat who had sought to invade his mind. He goggles, perhaps in shock, perhaps in pain, as for two...brief..seconds..all..the undead monsters...stop in their tracks...turn...and watch the defenders converge on him, all standing at stiff attention.

 

In the keep, Ozymandias faints.

 

In the forest, Ozymandias roars.

[Kikuyu_Black_Paws]

Kikuyu plunged downward with all of her strength. The blade sheared into the Necromancer's chest, sliding through the gap between Degorram's outstretched arm and side. Black, acidic blood splashed onto her face. Ignoring the burning pain, Kikuyu jerked the blade downwards and shoved the glittering energy of the shield still around her into the sword's hilt. The power shot through the blade like an electric blast, knifing into the Necromancer's chest with an explosive, smoky crash. The Necromancer shook, his colorless eyes turning from Degorram to Kikuyu. They rested there for a moment before turning to Ozymandias, approaching at terrifying speed.

[Degorram]

The blood oozed over Degorram's hands and splashed onto her arms. She felt her claws sinking into the Necromancer's throat and another snarl gurgled up into her throat. The light of life was fading from his eyes as he raised one hand and made a fist.

 

Degorram's heart lurched and she choked, her eyes watering. A thin green line of smokey light was traveling towards his hand. Her whole body shook at the revelation that her soul was escaping.

 

She gave one last roar and ripped her hand away, taking the Necromancer's throat with her. In that moment she fell to the ground. Her eyes, though open, saw no more.

[Ozymandias]

Ozymandias' eyes glazed as he took all of this in, then focussed again in a flash. He closed the distance between himself and their assailant and time slowed to a molasses-like crawl.

 

Their toes brushed as he stepped forward with his assault, and even as the Shifter of the Pen fell, many things began to happen.

 

The old king went absolutely silent as he brought his knife up in a lazy, powerful arc- supported his both hands as he put his palm to the hilt for support- he slashed neatly over the body of the collapsing Degorram, severing the Necromancer's fist before he had a chance to drop it from its' raised position,

 

Unhindered, he brought the blade now over the dark wizard's head, carving a lazy curve through the air until it came back down again into the other man's neck at that point where the neck meets the trapezius muscle. Blood gouted from that wound too, what seemed (perhaps was) minutes later.

 

 

 

Ozymandias let go of his weapon, throwing himself away from his foe, and twisting his body in a strange water ballet through the thick air, arms reaching out until he caught his fallen comrade half with his hands, half with his body before she slammed into the ground.

 

Impossibly, even as his own back connected with the dirt, he was already coiling his legs underneath him, and was on his feet again in an instant, and running away from their perhaps dying, perhaps not, foe with Degorram clutched tightly in his arms.

 

 

The knife, though only a few inches cut into the flesh of the dark wizard's ruined neck had not slipped an inch. None but the Necromancer saw why, as fingers with a soft, shining power that his mind even now tried to calculate, and had already blanched at the impossibilty of the task held the weapon in place.

 

He felt, more than saw, a face looking at him with utter sadness. It spoke in his ears and heart (which writhed in undulled malice as it felt that voice).

 

 

 

"Little one... You are unrepentant of your path, even now. There can be only one outcome to that. I am sorry. We shall miss you."

 

 

Before the flame leaped down the knife blade, the man who had taken such great pains to erase his own name, and replace it with terror felt a small twinge in his black heart.

 

 

Even then, he coldy brushed it aside, sneering.

[Sir Walnut]

The gout of flame knocked the crimson wolf into the air, the scent of his charred flesh and burning fur mixing with the acidic, undulating scent of pure hatred. He hit the ground with the force of a cannon ball. His pain blurring out his vision, the only image he had of the necromancer and those near him was the one his mind formed from his other senses. The strange smell of the necromancer's blood sent horrible wave of fear through his body already spasming with pain. The horrors this foul being had caused, the wicked deeds of his life covering the scent of his blood. Walnut's body spasmed as the fur, what remained at least, sunk back into the tender burnt flesh. He gasped in agony as his skin sheered off from the touch of green blades. Steam poured from his burnt body even as the spasms died. The bloods scent had faded. Walnut's voice escaped his throat in spurts.

 

"Her soul...oh my...he nearly has it..."

 

Even as these words escaped the charred remains of his lips the Elder struck.