James Ward: The Paladins

Shaakat cackled. "Excellent command of invisibility, to maintain it in battle."

Another tangle of sparks at the entrance to the room betrayed the transparent figure of the wizard, but this time the light was blue, and it crackled momentarily between the human's hands before shooting across the chamber in a jagged bolt of lightning. The vrocks tensed against the sting of magic and then thrust it off. The lightning passed through them and smote the wall behind with a thunderous eruption that shook the room. Their feathers stood up in the charged atmosphere around them, yet they took no hurt from the attack.

"Potent electrical assault. I almost felt it," sneered Shaakat. "Rejik, set the manes free and erect the ward. I’ll take care of the rest."

Rejik released his mental hold upon the lesser fiends and focused his mind upon a line of blood, smeared along the perimeter of the pyramid's platform. He spread his wings and arms outward and froze in that position, bending his will upon making and holding a barrier as powerful as the one he and Shaakat had encountered in the Utter East. This one, however, would prove deadly to creatures of goodness and order.

Throughout the chamber, the unbridled manes clamored wildly and turned upon the invisible menace, swarming toward it. Bellows of hatred blended with howls of pain as the monsters crashed upon the circle of Tyr warriors and splattered backward. The heroes' transparent weapons shimmered in deadly arcs through the air as they slew the clawing fiends all around them. The manes piled upon one another. The chamber grew thick with the haze of their smoking dead remains.

"Time to show yourselves, cowardly primes," thought

Shaakat. He reached out with his keen senses, found the magical aura surrounding the Tyr followers, and obliterated it with a stroke of his powerful mind. With a sizzling hiss, the four human men and one woman shimmered into view. The warrior males formed a crescent of swinging weapons, mowing down the squealing manes before them, while the female wizard gestured, calling up another spell.

Quickly, the vrock drew back his spindly arm and hurled his javelin with the strength of a giant. It buzzed like a furious wasp as it sliced through the air, and its scales stood up from its surface, making it spin like a streaking top as it homed in on its target. The spear's gleaming point drove into the throng, passing through two manes uninhibited, and bore into the chest of the wizard, knocking her from her feet with a cry of astonishment. "I call on ggatzshriiegk," thought Shaakat and the weapon twirled cruelly in the wizard's body, eliciting a delicious scream of agony from her, before ripping free and sailing back to him.

To Shaakat's delight, a mob of tanar'ri swarmed over the woman as quickly as she fell to the ground! Her arms and legs flailed beneath the sweeping host of scratching, gnawing manes, but she couldn't find her feet. One of the warriors turned and desperately slung his warhammer at the piling fiends, reaching into their midst with his free hand to seize hers, then snatching it back as they snapped greedily at him. He cried out "Aleena!" as he fought through the horde, and a second warrior turned to help, but it was too late.

Both vrocks cackled joyfully in the echo of the warriors' cries of anguish.

"Nooo!" wailed Noph from the ground behind them, his magical charm broken at the sight. "Aleena! You bastards!" he cursed and began to sob. The master fiends laughed harder.

"You wish to fight unseen?" asked Shaakat in the Tyr-lovers' minds as he sent forth utter darkness from his own mind, plunging the entire party of humans into blindness. At the same time, he cocked his arm to hurl his javelin at another one of them. Then he paused.

Amazing! The humans were fighting completely blind and slaughtering the manes while suffering little damage themselves! They shouted to each other and moved into a defensive circle, allowing themselves plenty of room to swing, then entered into a warrior's dance, thrashing the space around them in a graceful series of attacks that crushed and scattered the tanar'ri. One of them-a warrior completely sheathed in shining plates of finely wrought metal-spun about, holding his gleaming hammer at arm's length while he twirled and uttered sickening words of goodness and light-and the darkness fell.

"I want to attack, too!" complained Rejik in his head.

"Just keep that warding circle intact, leatherhead! They're still coming this way!"

Shaakat flung his deadly javelin again, aiming for the one who banished his arcane darkness, but the human anticipated his throw and swung his hammer to meet it. The flat of the paladin's mallet squarely met the point of the spear with a resounding crack, and the fiend's prized weapon splintered into black rubble that flew back to the pyramid and rattled against its surface like a hail storm.

The paladin with hair the color of fire and armor like the scales of a golden fish held up his hammer and cried, "In Tyr's name, be gone!" His voice echoed through the chamber like a titan's, and all around the warriors a dozen manes convulsed and ruptured into black smoke. The stinging residue of slaughtered manes grew dense, and the fighters choked and reeled. Shaakat leaped upon the opportunity.

"Now," thought the vrock to the bar-lgura, who rippled forth from the walls of the chamber and sprang at the paladins with fore- and hindclaws extended. The humans parried their savage slashing and biting attacks, yet the one wielding a staff rolled to the ground under the crush of a leaping bar-lgura. The tanar'ri seized the fighter by the throat and released its Abyssal aura of terror; the prime gagged with sudden fear. He dropped his weapon and struggled frantically to get free of the fiend, which leaned over to clamp its vicelike jaws upon his face. The remaining manes in the room converged upon the fallen man, climbing atop one another to get at him.

"Trandon's down!" shouted the warrior with a large blade, and the remaining three humans shifted smoothly to a triangle defense. Onward they pressed. The remaining manes burst into roiling puffs of toxic vapor, and their spirits fled back to the Abyss. The bar-lgura leapt in groups, hoping to overwhelm the paladins, only to be driven back on their heels until, one by one, they too fled for their native plane.

At last, bloody and weaving from their battles, the three warriors of Tyr reached the base of the pyramid and began to climb its steps. Side by side they ascended, grim-faced, readying their weapons for another bout. The two vrocks waited at the top.

"Paladins beware!" shouted Noph.

Shaakat wheeled and slapped the young man with the back of his emaciated hand. Noph cried out and lay still.

"Yes, beware paladins of Tyr," sneered Shaakat in their heads, returning his gaze to them. "We have your impudent whelp here. Surrender or we'll murder him right now!"

"Let them kill me!" mumbled Noph through bleeding, fattened lips.

"You shall be remembered with honor, Freeman Kastonoph!" cried the red-headed human.

The paladins continued their ascent without hesitation. Shaakat hissed and raised his arms as if to strike at them, but waited for them to reach the top.

As one, they stepped up to the top of the pyramid, sword and hammers raised high, but as their feet touched the warding line of blood, a bright flash erupted in front of each of them with a shrill crack, casting them back down the steps like rag dolls. They tumbled downward with a clatter of metal and groans of misery, coming to rest in a heap at the pyramid's base. Shaakat and Rejik roared with laughter.

"Kern!" cried one. "Kern, rise in the name of Tyr!" The paladin in golden scales shook his head and weakly rolled to his knees.

"Jacob?" called the elder warrior to the swordsman, who lay still and lifeless. "Jacob!" The human looked up at the vrocks with an expression of hatred to warm a tanar'ri's heart. "Damned fiends! Tyr, grant me the power to fight once more!"