Tim Waggoner - Lady Ruin

Lirra was within striking range of her sword, but as she raised it, the stormstalk’s eye began to glow once more. She commanded her tentacle whip to reach up and grab hold of the aberration just below the eye and pull it sideways, spoiling its aim. Elidyr’s symbiont unleashed its lightning, but the bolt flew well wide of its mark.

Lirra thrust her sword at Elidyr’s unprotected abdomen, but before she could ram her blade home, Elidyr deflected it with a quick swipe of his crawling gauntlet, the chitinous claw scraping loudly against Lirra’s steel. The blow was backed by more than human strength-another of Ysgithyrwyn’s gifts to her uncle? she wondered-and Lirra was knocked backward. She stumbled and nearly fell, but managed to stay on her feet.

While Elidyr was busy dealing with Lirra, Vaddon moved in and thrust his sword into his brother’s side. Blood gushed from the wound, but instead of crying out in pain, Elidyr laughed. He whirled to his brother and jammed his fingers into Vaddon’s right cheek. Elidyr’s fingertips sank into Vaddon’s flesh as if it were made of putty, and then the artificer made a fist and yanked. Vaddon cried out in agony as his cheek was torn from his face and he drew away from Elidyr, blood pouring from his ruined face onto the cave floor. Elidyr tossed his brother’s flesh aside, and then pressed his hand to his wound and massaged it with blood-slick fingers. Lirra understood what her uncle was doing-he was using his flesh-molding abilities to repair his injury-and she’d wager he was able to repair both the skin and the organs within. Was there no end to the man’s unnatural powers?

She rushed to her father, tore a strip from her uniform sleeve and used it in a futile attempt to staunch his horrible facial wound. Elidyr broke off his attack and watched Lirra’s inadequate ministrations with amusement, mad delight dancing in his eyes. Vaddon was breathing harshly and his wound was bleeding profusely, but his eyes were narrow and focused on Elidyr. She knew Vaddon was using every ounce of his ferocious will to concentrate past the pain, but she also knew that at the rate he was losing blood, he would rapidly weaken and lose consciousness. He needed Ksana’s healing touch, and he needed it now. But though Elidyr seemed content for the moment to watch his brother bleed, Lirra knew the crazed artificer could resume attacking them any second. As much as she hated it, she had to face facts. She couldn’t stand against Elidyr alone. She guided Vaddon’s hand to the blood-soaked cloth so he could continue applying pressure on the wound himself. He pressed his hand against ragged, raw meat and exposed bone, and despite his years on the battlefield and the number of times he’d been wounded in combat, the old soldier shuddered. But he gave Lirra a nod to show that he’d manage, so she turned away and shot a quick glance to check on Ranja and the warforged.

Longstrider and Shatterfist had recovered from the illithid’s mind blast enough to get on their knees, but it looked as if it was going to take several more minutes before the warforged were ready to rejoin the battle. By then, it would all be over, one way or another. Ranja was faring a bit better. She attempted to stand, wobbled, and then slumped into a sitting position. The shifter would recover before the warforged, Lirra judged, but again, she feared it wouldn’t be in time to help.

When Lirra’s attention was on Ranja, the shifter flicked her hand outward, and a small object flew through the air toward Lirra. The shifter was still weak and her aim was off, but Lirra commanded her tentacle whip to intercept the object, and the symbiont snatched it out of the air with ease and dropped it into Lirra’s open palm, the flesh wet with her father’s blood. The object was a small copper ball the size of a child’s marble. The metal felt warm against Lirra’s flesh, but she had no idea what the object was or what it could do. She knew one thing though-this was one of Ranja’s toys, and that meant whatever it was, it packed a punch.

Lirra turned toward Elidyr. She ordered the tentacle whip to sting his face, and as he blocked the strike with his crawling gauntlet, she hurled the copper ball at him.

The object hit Elidyr on the chest and flattened against his tunic as if it were made of copper-colored mud. He looked down at the splattered object on his chest quizzically, but before he could react, the copper began to spread like liquid, rapidly covering his torso, trunk, arms, legs, and finally his head. His entire body, symbionts included, was encased in the copperlike substance, rendering him immobile. Elidyr didn’t seem particularly disturbed by his sudden confinement. He looked down upon his copper prison and murmured, “Interesting,” as if his only concern was professional, an artificer admiring a work of thaumaturgical engineering.

Lirra grinned. Thanks, Ranja, she thought. With Elidyr incapacitated, she could get Vaddon to Ksana. But a quick glance showed Lirra that the cleric had problems of her own.

Sinnoch hissed like an angry reptile and charged Ksana, hands out and claws bared, shoulder tentacles whipping the air as he went, eager to grab hold of the half-elf and begin rending her flesh. The cleric stepped forward to meet the dolgaunt’s attack, holding her halberd like a staff. When Sinnoch came within range, Ksana swept the butt of the halberd upward and connected solidly with the dolgaunt’s chin. Sinnoch’s head snapped back, but instead of grunting with pain, the aberration laughed maniacally as both of his shoulder tentacles wrapped around the halberd and yanked, tearing the weapon free from Ksana’s hands. Sinnoch then swung the halberd around and smashed the flat of the axe head against the cleric’s temple, knocking her to the cave floor. Ksana rolled as she hit the ground and came up on her feet, her hands blazing with orange-yellow light. She released twin blasts of sun energy at Sinnoch, and the dolgaunt staggered backward, his chest aflame. He shrieked in agony and dropped the halberd, and Ksana darted forward to snatch the weapon off the ground as Sinnoch franctically attempted to extinguish the flames by slapping his shoulder tentacles against his chest.

Up to this point, Osten had stood and watched the fighting, but he let out a war cry and charged Rhedyn, the latter so completely covered in shadow that it was difficult to determine exactly where he stood. Rhedyn raised his sword, the weapon also cloaked in shadow, and waited for Osten to come to him. Osten-no stranger to dealing with symbionts-made his best guess as to Rhedyn’s location and swung his sword in a wide arc, the strike designed to hit Rhedyn regardless of where he was actually standing. Unfortunately, Rhedyn dodged at the last instant and Osten’s strike missed. The shadow-shrouded warrior’s return blow didn’t miss, however. His black blade nicked Osten’s forearm, and blood welled forth from the wound.

Meanwhile, Sinnoch had recovered from Ksana’s strike and had managed to rake the half-elf with his claws several times, and she was bleeding from gashes on her arm, neck, and chest. The dolgaunt’s hideous mouth was stretched in a bloodthirsty grin as he moved in on Ksana, claws outstretched, prepared to deliver a killing strike.

Blood loss had taken its toll on the cleric, but though she was weak, Ksana drew herself up to her full height, gripped her halberd tightly and shouted, “For Dol Arrah!” The axe head of her weapon flared with brilliant white light and as Sinnoch attacked, Ksana swung the halberd and buried the axe head in the dolgaunt’s neck. Sinnoch stiffened as the holy light of Ksana’s patron goddess flowed from the halberd and into his body. Beams of light shot forth from his eyeless sockets and poured out of his open mouth. His body began to shrivel up, as if it was being cooked from within. Lirra expected to hear the dolgaunt scream as he died, but instead he laughed uproariously, as if his death was the funniest thing he could imagine. Sinnoch’s laughter cut off abruptly and then the dry, lifeless husk of his desiccated body fell to the cave floor.