R. Salvatore - Night of the Hunter

“He’s got tricks!” Regis yelled.

Bruenor leaped forward and Wulfgar lifted his warhammer to throw again, but both stopped as a black form flew in from the left side, crashing into the lich. Again the fog exploded from the undead monster, but not enough this time, and Guenhwyvar’s pounce-of course it was Guenhwyvar-drove Ebonsoul hard to the side.

From the darkness behind came Drizzt, weapons in hand, pressing hard on the creature.

But Ebonsoul was gone then, just an intangible fog, and it swept as if driven by a hurricane in a sudden burst that landed the lich right beside Wulfgar. The barbarian and both flanking him cried out in surprise as Ebonsoul instantly reconstituted, his bony hand sweeping in to slap at Wulfgar.

Lightning crackled as the blow connected and the barbarian was flying then, lifted from the ground and thrown over Regis. He landed right at the edge of the encampment and pitched over a log he had earlier placed across two stones as a bench seat.

Across swept Bruenor’s axe in response, but the lich was fog once more, and Bruenor overbalanced and stumbled forward when he hit nothing tangible. And then Bruenor went down hard as Guenhwyvar flew in through the fog and collided with him.

Regis saw the incorporeal lich coming for him. He called upon his ring, warp stepping just as Ebonsoul reformed, and now it was the lich’s swing that hit nothing but air and with the halfling turning around behind him to stab Ebonsoul with his own dagger.

The halfling felt the press for a bit and knew he had stung the creature, at least, but that solidity melted quickly, as did Ebonsoul.

Now the fog blew away to the halfling’s left, across the camp for the charging drow. Regis called out a warning, but Drizzt was already moving in any case. The drow ranger leaped into the air in a great spin, scimitars flashing out left and right, front and back, and repeatedly in a wild blur.

Ebonsoul came back to corporeal form before the drow, and those scimitars dug in, slashing repeatedly at reaching arms and at the robed torso.

But the lich accepted the blows in exchange for his own, an open hand that slammed into Drizzt and staggered him backward, and it was all the clearly dazed drow could do to hang onto his blades. He recovered quickly and fell into a defensive posture as the lich advanced.

And Drizzt dived, rolling as far aside as he could as a ball of fire appeared in the air above the undead beast, erupting into a line of fire that raced down hungrily upon the lich. Again Ebonsoul became a fog cloud, reforming almost immediately just to the side, and spinning around. Wisps of smoke rose from the creature’s robes as it turned toward Regis and Bruenor, and toward Wulfgar, who was coming back into the firelight, staggering somewhat but ready once more for battle.

A forked lightning bolt reached out at the trio, and they scrambled and dived, cried out in stinging pain, and spun down to the ground.

Through the blinding flash came Guenhwyvar once again. From the side came another barrage of magic, arcane this time, as magical missiles swarmed into the firelight and stung at Ebonsoul. Only then did the lich seem to realize the presence of a sixth companion, a robed woman standing off in the darkness to the side of the encampment.

Ebonsoul melted to fog and rushed away from the springing panther, and Guenhwyvar burst through the insubstantial curtain and landed far beyond the spot, digging in her claws and chewing up the ground as she tried to quickly turn around.

“Me girl!” Bruenor yelled in warning.

Catti-brie knew Ebonsoul was coming.

She called to her goddess and brought forth a brilliant light all around her, then saw the incoming rush of fog and lifted her hands to meet it, thumbs touching, fingers fanned horizontally, greeting the reforming Ebonsoul with a fan of flames.

But the lich hissed through the magical fire and swatted Catti-brie aside, sending her into a roll. She came around with a spell on her lips, but was relieved when Wulfgar’s hammer took Ebonsoul on the side of the head, staggering him. The huge barbarian charged in behind the throw, Bruenor and Regis close behind. And on came Drizzt from across the camp, blades rolling eagerly.

Ebonsoul was fog, then reformed, and Wulfgar went flying even as he caught his returned hammer.

Then to fog again went the lich, in a frenzy now, becoming corporeal in front of Regis, and dematerializing almost immediately as the halfling dived away and Bruenor turned in.

Lightning crackled around Catti-brie’s fingers, but she didn’t dare let loose the stroke of magic, for the lich was all around, near one companion, then another.

She thought she had a shot, but Ebonsoul swirled into fog once more and swept around a startled Bruenor, becoming solid behind the dwarf.

Bruenor grunted and rushed at Catti-brie as a clawed hand raked his back, and a thrust open hand crunched into the back of his neck and sent him flying forward and to the ground.

Catti-brie dismissed her spell, the crackling lightning dissipating around her. She searched her thoughts and recounted her spells and focused her attention at last upon a ring on her finger.

Drizzt came at the lich, blades whirling. But faster still was Ebonsoul, just a fog again, then reforming out to the side.

Drizzt turned to pursue, but found a stroke of black lightning instead, slamming him in the chest and throwing him backward, eating at his very life force. He still watched Ebonsoul, the lich becoming fog, the fog exploding all around as Guenhwyvar leaped through harmlessly.

Back and forth went the fog, darting all around the encampment, the lich reforming and striking, going away once more to strike again at a different target.

The four friends and Guenhwyvar tried to formulate some defensive posture, but Regis went flying, and then Wulfgar grunted and was driven to his knees, and Guenhwyvar roared in frustration again and again, always a heartbeat too late to the spot to rake at the undead monster.

And the companions were taking serious hits now, bruised and battered and bloody, and their occasional hits on the frenzied lich seemed to show little effect.

“Elf, take me left!” Bruenor ordered, right as Ebonsoul appeared behind him and whacked him across the head as he tried to turn, staggering him to the side.

Drizzt rushed in, magical anklets speeding him, but he had to turn aside, indeed dive aside, to avoid getting swatted by an outraged Wulfgar, who swung mightily at the lich. But alas, Ebonsoul was already gone.

They couldn’t match the speed and power of this one, Drizzt knew. They all knew it, and it seemed more likely that they’d inadvertently kill each other before ever landing any solid blows on the monster. Out in the darkness, Drizzt heard Catti-brie chanting in an arcane language he did not know.

“Scatter!” Regis ordered. “We cannot beat him!”

But Drizzt didn’t run, and he went at the fog, meeting Ebonsoul as the lich became corporeal, attacking furiously if futilely, but determined to keep the creature occupied, determined to give Catti-brie the time she needed.

“Drizzt, no!” he heard Regis cry out, and the words distorted in Drizzt’s ears as he pitched through the air, swatted hard by Ebonsoul.

The fog pursued.

The lich returned right in front of the flight of Wulfgar’s hammer, a desperate throw that would only narrowly miss Drizzt. Guenhwyvar soared in beside Aegis-fang, but again Ebonsoul became fog, hammer and panther flying through, and the fog rushed for Regis then, and the blood drained from the halfling’s face as Ebonsoul came up fearlessly before him, and surely the halfling saw his doom in the monster’s fiery eyes.

He stabbed out with his rapier desperately and repeatedly, and knew he was doing little damage, his pointed blade barely digging in. Ebonsoul ignored it, not even bothering to dematerialize, but instead determinedly reaching his clawed hands for the halfling thief.