James Lowder - Knight of the Black Rose

“I’ve seen Castle Hunadora, but I never went inside,” Azrael replied. “Lucky for me, I say. Just outside the place, I escaped from a dozen or so of his guards by jumping into the moat. They’d caught me sleeping in the woods and were bringing me in for ‘questioning.’ In most of the lands around here, that means torture.”

At Soth’s prompting, the dwarf went on to describe Gundar’s castle, but his knowledge of the place consisted largely of details about the fetid moat that circled the estate. “I’m lucky I can hold my breath for a long time,” he concluded. “The water is thick with sewage from the castle and the refuse from the experiments Gundar’s son, Medraut, conducts in the dungeons.”

A deep, liquid laughter filled the clearing. “You’re right, Fej,” they heard someone say, “it is a dwarf what set off the alarm. You can read them signals better’n anyone.”

The sharp sound of steel striking flint echoed from the boulders, and two torches flared to life on opposite ends of the clearing. The skeletal warriors fanned out in a circle, but Magda had her cudgel at the ready before any of them could draw their swords. When the Vistani saw the two grotesque figures bathed by the light of the torches they carried, she couldn’t suppress a gasp.

They were giants, standing twice Soth’s height, but their features were horrific, their bodies misshapen. One had an eye that was twice the size of its mate. The mismatched pair rested below a brow lined with deep wrinkles, over a bulbous nose and a mouth that hung open like a gaping wound. The giant’s teeth were missing from his lower jaw, and his gums had been scraped away from the bone by jagged upper teeth. One of the creature’s arms jutted from his side, not his shoulder. A torn shirt covered his bulk, but he dragged a length of thick chain that ended in a studded iron weight.

The other giant was equally hideous. His features retained more humanity-apart from the piggish snout spread across his face-but large blisters dotted his skin from head to foot. These welts sprouted tufts of hair as red as any flame. He was hunchbacked but had managed to put together a motley collection of armor that protected much of his torso. He carried no weapon, but his hands were three times as large as they had any right to be. The giant flexed a fist as he stepped into the clearing.

“Awright, you lot,” the first giant managed to say, his lower jaw moving little as he spoke, “you’re coming with us. If you put down the weapons, we won’t hurt you… much.” Both giants laughed at that pitiful jest.

Magda’s head swam. How had the giants managed to sneak up on them? They hardly looked capable of stealth. And what alarm had Azrael set off? She glanced at the pillar. The dwarf had been resting against it for much of the evening. Suspicions of treachery filled her mind again, but she hadn’t long to dwell upon them.

A battle had begun.

An arm’s length from the Vistani, Lord Soth moved his hands in the complex patterns of an incantation. The air before the hunchbacked giant suddenly filled with snow, then an ice wall appeared, stretching between two boulders. Barred from moving forward, the giant bellowed in rage.

Narrowing his overlarge eye at the death knight, the remaining giant advanced. He swung his crude flail, and the chain and steel weight swept across the ground, hissing like a scythe. Two skeletal warriors were caught by the blow. Their bones flew apart like shards of broken pottery.

Frantically Magda looked from Soth to Azrael. The giant was too close to allow the death knight the time to cast another spell, so Soth drew his sword. The undead warriors did the same. Azrael, however, backed toward the wall of ice. At the sight of the retreating dwarf, the Vistani cursed; there seemed little question now that Azrael was indeed a traitor.

Magda gripped her cudgel tightly and joined Soth against the flail-wielding giant. The thing had raised his weapon for another blow, but the death knight slashed him across the knee. As his leg buckled beneath him, he stumbled forward and the flail slipped from his hands. That didn’t prevent him from swatting another of the skeletal warriors with his torch. The blow lifted the skeleton from the ground. It struck a boulder with a resounding, sickening snap of bones, then crumpled to the earth.

At the same time, a huge fist knocked a hole in the wall of ice. The second giant reached through the breach and grabbed Azrael. The dwarf, caught partway through his transformation into half-badger form, could do little but squirm and growl in the giant’s grasp. With a grunt from his piggish snout, the hunchback tossed Azrael over his shoulder as if he were nothing but a discarded toy.

“Oi, Fej, give me a hand here,” the first giant cried. He was on his knees, holding off five skeletons with his huge torch. His arms were covered with bloody slashes from the undead warriors’ blades. His tunic hung about him in ribbons.

“Awright, Bilgaar. Stop yer whinin’.” The hunchbacked giant had been busy climbing over the ice wall, and now he loped forward. At Soth’s command, the skeletons broke off from the first battle and formed a line between Fej and his fellow, their swords bristling before them.

Bilgaar, the giant in front of Soth and Magda, braced a hand on his wounded knee and struggled to his feet. As he did so, the Vistani lashed out with her cudgel. Bilgaar tried to block the club with his torch, but all he received for the attempt was two broken fingers. “Aooww!” he howled. His torch spun from his hand and landed at the base of the pillar.

Magda raised Gard to strike again, but the giant shoved her aside. The Vistani tumbled to the ground. The action cost the giant dearly, though. Soth, taking advantage of the opening, chopped at Bilgaar’s outstretched hand with a powerful two-handed swing. The death knight’s blade severed the giant’s hand from his wrist, and Bilgaar collapsed, clutching the bloody stump. Without hesitating, Soth drove his sword through the back of the giant’s skull. After Bilgaar whimpered once, his gaping mouth closed and the life fled from his oddly paired eyes.

Fej was having a much easier time of it. A defeated skeleton lay unmoving at his feet, and the seven remaining ones were having a hard time scoring any hits through the giant’s armor. One of the undead moved too close to Fej, and he used his huge fist to crush the skeleton into the ground.

The giant chuckled at the scattered bones, but that mirth was cut short by a bloodcurdling howl. Before Fej could spare a look behind him, Azrael leaped from a granite outcropping and landed on his hunched back. The werebeast had transformed fully into his half-badger form, and he looked none the worse from the giant’s earlier attack. With daggerlike claws and teeth, he tore into Fej’s throat.

The giant dropped his torch and tried to grab the werecreature. He screamed once before Azrael severed his vocal cords. Then the skeletal warriors closed in.

From the darkness between two boulders, Magda watched the skeletons and the werebadger tear the hunchbacked giant to bloody pieces. Soth, his back to her, studied the proceedings and cleaned his sword on a shred of Bilgaar’s tunic. Azrael had joined the fight, she noted acidly, but only because we were winning. There was no doubt in her mind now: The dwarf had used the pillar to summon the giants. Whether he did so for Strahd or Gundar didn’t matter; he was part of the trap.

This might be my last chance to escape, she decided. They are all too caught up in the slaughter to notice. Quietly Magda got to her feet and edged into the darkness.

“Six left,” Soth noted grimly, counting the remaining skeletons. “And we are still days from Castle Hunadora.”

Azrael, his muzzle and paws caked with gore, finally stood back from the dead giant. He scanned the clearing. “She’s gone,” he rumbled. “The Vistani bitch has run off!”