James Wyatt - Oath of Vigilance

The hall spun around him as he lay on his back. He heard the statue’s footsteps as it advanced-he felt them reverberate through the floor-but he couldn’t lift his head to see it coming.

Tempest screamed his name, panic filling her voice in a way he’d never heard before.

A murmured prayer helped bring the spinning world to a halt, and he felt strength surge through his body again. His shield arm tingled fiercely, but at least he could move it. He sat up just in time to knock the stone knight’s blade aside with his shield and struck a solid blow on the statue’s neck with his own sword. Had he been facing a human opponent, his blow would have decapitated his foe, and it was a solid enough hit to drive the statue back again.

Roghar stole a glance around as he got to his feet. Travic was struggling to hold his own against the gnoll and the ragged humans who occasionally lunged forward to take advantage of an opening. They were wearing him down and driving him back, crowding Tempest from that side too.

Tempest wasn’t holding up well, he could see. Her eyes were wide, and power crackled in the air around her. Streams of fire circled around her head and tongues of flame leaped from her shoulders, signs that her tight control over her infernal magic was slipping. More than the actual threats they faced, the thought of Tempest losing control filled him with fear.

Roghar gritted his teeth. He didn’t like having a whole separate battle raging behind him, out of sight, where he was powerless to help and protect his friends. He didn’t like forcing Travic to hold off the gnoll and the others by himself, but he also knew that the priest would have crumpled under the stone knight’s assault. And he didn’t like forcing Tempest to split her attention, unable to catch the stone knight in the same fiery eruptions and thunderous blasts that she used to batter the other group of foes. Fundamentally, he hated everything about this fight, and wished he’d been smart enough to recognize the threat of the statue before it came to life and attacked from the rear.

“Your eyes should have tipped me off,” he growled at the stone knight.

The statue’s unblinking eyes gave him an idea, and he began gathering divine power for another strike, one he hoped would finish the statue. He lifted his shield to bat the knight’s sword aside again, then Travic cried out and Tempest screamed his name.

He risked a glance behind him. Travic was down, and the gnoll stood over him with a leering grin twisting its blood-soaked muzzle. Taking advantage of Roghar’s distraction, the knight’s sword sliced past his upraised shield and bit deeply into his arm.

“Enough!” Roghar shouted. Ignoring the pain in his shield arm, he swung his sword with all his might. As it whistled through the air, it began to glow, and it struck the knight’s head with a blinding flash of light. After the initial flare faded, the statue’s eyes continued to glow, and an instant later, the statue’s head erupted in a shower of stone fragments. Its body froze in the midst of staggering back, as if it had been sculpted in that position.

Roghar wheeled to face the gnoll and found Tempest raining all the fires of the Nine Hells upon it and its human allies. Her hands were a blur of motion, snatching fire from the air and hurling it at anything that moved. A cloak of smoke and fire surrounded her and flames danced in a ring around her feet-dangerously close to where Travic lay. The fury of her assault was keeping the gnoll back, for the moment, but it also made it impossible for Roghar to get past her and fight the gnoll or tend to Travic’s injuries. Tempest might not have needed his help, but Travic’s lifeblood was spilling out onto the floor as he watched.

“Tempest, back up!” he shouted over the roar of her eldritch flames.

She didn’t respond. The firestorm around her grew larger and hotter, forcing her opponents and Roghar back several steps. Smoke started to curl up from Travic’s robes.

Roghar let out a wordless shout and reached through the flames to grab Tempest’s shoulder, yanking her backward. Flames lashed out at his arm, and Tempest whirled on him, ready to throw a handful of hellfire at what she perceived as a threat behind her.

“Tempest!” Roghar shouted again, lifting his shield to ward off the blast.

The blast never came, and the fury of the firestorm diminished a bit. He glanced over the top of his shield to see Tempest, eyes wide with shock, fear, and the dawning realization of what she’d almost done. Still using his shield to ward himself from her flames, he pushed past her to Travic’s side.

The gnoll stood over Travic’s body, its heavy spear clutched in both hands, its grin daring Roghar to come closer.

“I’ll take that dare,” Roghar muttered.

His first swing cut the brutal blade from the head of the spear, and his second cut a wide gash across the gnoll’s throat. Before it could fall, Roghar planted a kick in the center of the gnoll’s chest and sent it sprawling back into the clump of humans behind it.

As they staggered back from the corpse of their champion, Roghar dropped to one knee and rested his palm on Travic’s chest. Fierce joy surged through him, Bahamut’s delight in a battle well fought, and he felt Travic draw a ragged breath as healing power flowed through his body.

Roghar bared his teeth as he looked back up at the ragged humans. They stared at him in undisguised terror, then broke and ran back the way they’d come, making no effort to cover their retreat.

Roghar’s roar of triumph pursued them, echoing down the hall.

The hounds of the fey hunt crashed into Albanon’s thorn barrier as the smaller demons spilled out of the Whitethorn Spire. The first rider to reach the barrier stood in his stirrups, then disappeared, reappearing with a soft popping sound just outside of Albanon’s reach. Albanon’s mouth dropped open as he recognized Immeral, the eladrin they had met in Moonstair.

Albanon gripped his staff and braced himself for an attack, preparing an arcane shield he could throw up in case the eladrin’s spear or a demon’s claws came too close. In his surprise, readying that spell was all he could manage-all his thoughts of searing foes with fire or lightning had scattered like dry leaves in a storm wind.

Nodding a salute to Albanon, Immeral lowered his spear and charged the large demon. The other riders appeared behind him with a series of pops and engaged the smaller demons, slashing around them with long, slender swords.

They weren’t after us? Albanon thought, suddenly feeling very foolish.

He gestured to dismiss the thorn barriers where the hounds were still thrashing their way through, and the hounds surged forward, leaping at the demons with teeth bared. Albanon stared dumbly as a fierce battle erupted on all sides around him.

“Are you going to stand there like a statue while the priest dies?” Splendid chirped in his ear. The pseudodragon pushed off his shoulder and took flight, circling his head as she continued to speak. “Not that I would be terribly surprised. Or disappointed, come to think of it.”

The pseudodragon’s words jolted Albanon out of his stupor. Kri, still sagging with exhaustion, was surrounded by the smaller demons, which stood almost as tall as he was. They were built much like dwarves, and some part of Albanon’s mind wondered idly if these creatures had been dwarves that had been subjected to Vestapalk’s transformation. Kri looked as though he could barely lift his heavy mace, let alone swing it effectively, and the demons surrounding him were making the most of his exhaustion. Like wolves encircling a tired stag, they darted in from behind to slash with their four clawed arms while the demons in front of him concentrated on dodging and blocking the weak blows of his mace.