T Lain - City of Fire

But Regdar refused to give much ground. He allowed the black knight to make him take one step back but just as it appeared he’d fall to the waiting gnoll leader’s attack, Regdar pressed a small gem on the hilt of his bastard sword. The blade burst into flame and the blackguard sprang back, cursing. The flame singed her long hair but otherwise she appeared unhurt. One wave of the flaming brand made the gnoll spring away and Regdar turned back to the armored woman.

“I’ll make you pay for that, filth!” she cried out in anger.

The old gnoll dueling with Alhandra was still hurting from the ambush, but it seemed to have a lifetime of dirty tricks to draw on. It feinted and circled, panting, trying to entice its fresher opponent into an unwary strike. Alhandra desperately wanted to dispatch this creature with the gray snout and help Regdar, but she let her training take over. She kept her impatience in check and did not charge as the gnoll expected. Indeed, the old gnoll took the paladin’s hesitation for fear and its tongue lolled in anticipation. Springing forward suddenly, it brought its two-handed axe down in a smashing blow.

The attack was just what Alhandra was waiting for. At the last moment, she leaned to her right and let the axe hammer against her shield. Instead of an arm-jarring blow, however, the axe blade slid down the finely-worked metal and the gnoll stumbled. Alhandra slashed quickly at the humanoid’s side. With a choking cry, the creature dropped its axe and fell to the floor. Dark blood poured out to spread in an almost invisible pool against the lava-colored floor. The paladin looked around for her true foe.

Seeing Kark fall beneath the paladin’s blade, Grawltak felt a howl of grief rise in his throat, but he refused to let it out. He had the half-orc backed up against the Opal Throne and the barbarian’s raging blows could not get past Grawltak’s two weapons. As the half-orc surged forward again, Grawltak swept his hooked scimitar low and wide. The spike caught the half-orc just above the ankle. With a tug, Grawltak used the hook to trip him, then sprang back as the barbarian’s awkward blow bit into the floor. The gnoll then hurled his hand axe at the half-orc and the missile sliced into the patchwork mail protecting the surprised barbarian’s shoulder. The blade cut deep into gray flesh. Stepping forward, Grawltak stabbed at the barbarian who parried the blow with a wild swing and scrambled away.

Naull was the only one of the companions standing near the Opal Throne. She rushed to the azer’s side and saw he’d already drawn the arrow from his chest and looked remarkably unhurt.

“Where is the key?” he asked.

Naull got on her hands and knees. She had seen Krusk toss it under the throne and it took only a few moments of blind fumbling for her to find it with her fingertips. The flickering flames made the disk hard for her to grasp, but the wizard managed to draw it toward her an inch at a time.

A howl of anger and pain distracted her. Looking up, Naull nearly screamed when she saw the blackguard, her face a mask of hate and triumph, standing over Regdar. He knelt before her, his flaming sword gripped loosely in one hand and his other arm wrapped around his belly. Blood flowed freely as he looked up at his foe. She raised her sword and laughed. When the fighter turned away from the blow, his eyes met Naull’s.

“Regdar,” Naull whispered in anguish.

His eyes held pain and despair but she saw something else there, too; something soft that they shared, but never had time to talk about.

Naull’s right hand found a spell pouch and she pointed at the blackguard. She spat the command word and a thin, icy beam shot out and struck the black knight in her armored side. A small, white button of frost appeared on the woman’s torso.

The blackguard didn’t even notice. The sword came down.

Before the blow could land, before Naull could close her eyes, a gleaming shape streaked up from behind the blackguard. Silver arms wrapped around dark steel and both shapes crashed against the stone floor.

Alhandra had crossed the room in a flash, skirting past the gnoll leader and Krusk to tackle the blackguard from her blind side. They tumbled across the floor in a tangle of screeching metal.

The gnoll leader had seen the paladin dash by and tried to hook her with his curved blade, only to miss and curse its slowness. It cursed again for good measure when its mistress hit the floor. The gnoll stood momentarily alone, the only one in the room still on its feet, then it saw Naull lying beside the Opal Thone. Baring its teeth in a snarl of cruelty, the gnoll stepped toward the wizard.

If the gnoll leader saw Naull draw the red-tipped wand from her belt and point it just above its head, it showed no sign.

“Secrus!” she exclaimed, and the bead streaked out to a point barely above the gnoll’s canine head.

When it exploded, the edge of the flame reached just short of Krusk and within inches of the bleeding Regdar, but its full fury engulfed the gnoll leader.

When the flames cleared moments later, only the gnoll’s charred and crumbling corpse was left behind. Naull barely saw it as she struggled to her feet, so intent was she on reaching Regdar.

The wizard took one step, then two, then felt herself halt suddenly. It was as if something gripped her by the side. When Naull looked down, she wondered at the black steel jutting out from her midriff. Her eyes followed it to a hilt, and a black gauntlet, but pain clouded her vision before she could follow it farther. With a shudder, the wizard dropped her wand and heard it clatter against the blood-spattered floor.

“Well, that’s about it, then,” a voice said in her ear.

Naull struggled to turn her head and saw the blackguard’s face only inches away. She fought to focus her mind and shut out the pain. In the throbbing haze, one corner of her mind noted how similar were this pale face framed with long, dark hair, and Alhandra’s. Then her legs collapsed and she slid from the blade.

Lying on her side, Naull thought of Regdar and wondered if he still lived. She wondered, too, if the blackguard would place a foot on her chest as Alhandra had done to the gnoll in the street before delivering the final blow. Instead of feeling the black steel bite into her neck, however, she heard a clash of metal and a cry of pain. Turning her neck with a shudder, Naull saw Regdar swaying on his feet, his normally dark face pale from loss of blood. He staggered toward the black-armored woman, his flaming sword trailing sparks along the floor. Behind him, Alhandra struggled forward on one knee, hand outstretched. She seemed to be trying to say something, but when she opened her mouth, only blood sputtered forth.

The blackguard turned back from the grisly pair and looked down at Naull again.

“Give me that,” she said coldly.

At first, the wizard didn’t understand, then she looked at her hand that was pinned under her body and saw the fiery key hovering above it. She didn’t know how it did that; perhaps its magic had been activated when she touched it beneath the throne. Either way, the blackguard wanted it, and for some reason she was waiting for Naull to give it to her.

The wizard didn’t move at first, then the blackguard crouched down, reaching toward Naull’s bloodstreaked hand.

With a desperate effort, Naull pushed away. She was surprised at the strength still in her arms. The pain in her midsection flared like icy blades and her body left a bloody smear on the floor where she passed. It hurt even more to use her legs, but dragging herself with only her arms was so slow. With despair she realized that she was only behind the throne, bare yards from where she started.

The blackguard’s ebony gauntlet gripped her shoulder and Naull cried out weakly in shock. As the hand tugged her back, Naull gritted her teeth and threw the key away from her as far as she could.