* * * * *
In unison with the other thieves and warriors, Cornar’s magically enhanced arrow speeds from his bow and pierces Anken’mar’s eye. The sting of Iltar’s magic mixed with Cornar’s arrow instantly stir the dragon from his slumber.
“You… you tricked me!” Anken’mar shouts, with no apparent sign of pain from the arrow piercing his eye. He quickly rises upon all fours and faces his foes in a defiant posture. “Now you’ve enraged me!”
Iltar gazes up at the dragon with a devilish grin through the necrotic sphere of protection. The two globes of darkness dance around the necromancer’s protective barrier.
Cornar launches several more arrows at Anken’mar, but the towering beast quickly swats them away with his front claws.
Anken’mar rears on his hind legs, bellowing a roar; he swiftly snaps his head forward, which propels globs of putrid yellow acidic liquid from his throat.
Throwing himself to his right, Cornar quickly moves out of the acid’s way. He gracefully recovers from tumble and regains his footing. In one swift movement, Cornar notches two arrows into his bow and lets them loose.
Simultaneously with Cornar’s evasion, steam and crackling sounds pierce the air as Anken’mar’s acidic spit attempts to break through Iltar’s protective barrier. The vapor grows larger as the acid is eaten away by an even more corrosive power; all the while, Iltar raises his hand toward the acid and reinforces the barrier with more dark magic from his finger tips.
Swatting Cornar’s arrows again, Anken’mar rushes forward to attack the warrior. He closes in but with Iltar’s magic Cornar easily dodges his attempts to swipe him with his front claws. Both dance a fierce battle, with Cornar moving away and then below Anken’mar, taking any opportunity to cut the dragon with his dagger and sword. However, even the magically enchanted weapons barely slice through the hardened metallic scales.
With his friend evading and distracting Anken’mar, Iltar turns his attention to dealing with the dragon in a less direct route. He kneels and spreads his hand toward the dirt just beyond his protective magic, uttering an incantation. Gray-brown magic wisps into the ground, causing the earthen floor to quake.
Behind Iltar, the portal created by Amendal fully opens, and the third magical conjuration slowly steps through, just as the others. Once it emerges from the mystical gateway, it looks down, noticing Iltar within his necrotic barrier. The magma behemoth steps forward, stepping on either side of Iltar. Heat from the creature’s molten skin shimmers off of Iltar’s water-like sphere of protection, and the necromancer pays no attention to the behemoth stepping over him.
Hearing the footfalls, Anken’mar glances back toward the mountainside, noticing the conjuration slowly stepping toward him.
“Now this is sporting!” Anken’mar shouts gleefully, and continues to swat at Cornar, catching the warrior by the leg with one of his talons.
Anken’mar pins Cornar to the ground and the warrior frantically cuts at the dragon’s massive claw. Thankfully, the green protective magic surrounding Cornar seeps beneath the dragon’s scales, sending a stinging sensation rapidly along his grip.
“I haven’t felt this spell in ages,” Anken’mar snarls as his grip tightens and Cornar lets out a agonizing scream. “It’s so painful, but I have not heard the popping of a human’s bones in–”
Suddenly, the dragon jolted backward by the tail, yanked by Amendal’s conjuration. The jolt causes Anken’mar to let go of the warrior and Cornar rolls to his side and backward onto his feet.
Once freed, the warrior eyes his bow to his left from whence he came and dashes to recover his weapon.
Meanwhile, anger and rage fill Anken’mar’s visage as he glares back at the summoned creature with his only eye; his injured eye rapidly degenerating from the magic carried by Cornar’s initial arrow.
With precision, Anken’mar quickly spins and thrusts its massive claw into the conjuration’s head.
Thrust downward by the dragon’s force, the conjuration bends over, but tightly holds Anken’mar’s tail.
Enraged, Anken’mar continues his furious blows, striking multiple times a second against the magma behemoth’s shoulder. Amid his strikes, he lets loose a bellowing roar. In the blink of an eye, a cracking sound echoes from the giant conjured creature and Anken’mar severs the hardened magma arm.
Undaunted, the conjuration holds against the attack and focuses on subduing Anken’mar with its remaining arm. It reels back in a straightened position as the dragon briefly stops his assault to grab the creature’s smoldering detached arm.
“Agonizing flame!” Anken’mar shouts with the molten forearm of the conjuration in his grasp. “How invigorating!” He pays no attention to the burning pain, as it only fuels his anger. Snarling sounds of hate burst from his scowling maw as he resumes the assault with its own limb, striking with finesse.
Just as Anken’mar resumes his assault on the magma conjuration, Cornar reaches his bow. With two arrows still in the quiver on his back, the warrior grabs one of them. He swiftly notches it in his bow and takes aim at the great dragon’s side.
Anken’mar is too busy with the gargantuan magmatic to care about what he deems his smaller, more inferior opponents. With this opportunity, Cornar sends the necrotic drenched arrow flying between the dragon’s scales, causing the dragon to shift his focus.
“Which of you wield the Ko’delish?!” Anken’mar cries, stopping his assault against the conjuration. He turns to face both Cornar and Iltar, the latter still kneeling. A large skeletal creature huddles in front of Iltar, fused together by transmutive magic.
“You,” Anken’mar snarls, looking at Iltar. “You are no illusionist!”
An arrow sails through the air from the south, further behind the necromancer and warrior.
Seeing the arrow, Anken’mar swiftly swats it out of the air with his free claw; but as the arrow erupts into a fireball of magical flame, engulfing his claw and blinding his vision.
A second arrow flies through the air immediately thereafter, piercing through the flame and explodes against Anken’mar’s neck.
Seeing the success of the fiery attack launched from behind him, Cornar grabs the last remaining arrow in his quiver, notches it in his bow and lets it loose. The magically drenched arrow penetrates Anken’mar’s underbelly, causing him to cry out in a mixture of fury and pain.
“Have the qui’sha forsaken their master’s mandate and granted their power to a mortal?!” Anken’mar growls while recovering from the blow.
As the dragon howls, Iltar rises from the ground. With his transmutive spell complete, the huddled skeletal creature rises from the dirt. The bones of the creature ignite in a black and gray magical aura. The gigantic transmuted creature stands almost to the height of the magma conjuration. Once erect, the skeleton rushes toward Anken’mar.
From behind the protective sphere, Iltar smiles grimly. He raises his brow and the two globes of darkness dispatch themselves from their orbit, like rogue planets violently freed from their star’s gravity. They race past the skeletal creation of dirt and impact on Anken’mar’s claws. The eroding magic slowly eats away at the great serpentine’s scales. Each infected metallic plate decomposes and exposes the dragon’s skin underneath, but both globes of darkness dissipate before they can dissolve the dragon’s flesh.
Surprise and pain spread across Anken’mar’s snout as he stares at Iltar. Suddenly the great serpent utters sharp sounds in the draconic language.
“Cho’k su’zak Cho’k!”
Ignorant of the shout’s meaning, Iltar slowly walks toward the dragon.
“No!” Anken’mar snarls and regains his composure. As he does so, the skeletal transmutive creature reaches him and grabs the conjuration’s severed arm. The skeleton strikes its fist into Anken’mar’s face but the dragon quickly retaliates.
As the transmutation and the dragon exchange blows, Iltar briskly walks forward and loudly speaks an incantat
ion. A bolt of magical lightning races from his hands and through the necrotic sphere, rippling the surface of the protective barrier as it leaves Iltar’s palm. It surges straight for Anken’mar and causes him to buckle, allowing the transmutive creature to grasp the dragon in a tight grip.
Iltar quickly darts to his right, where Anken’mar’s side comes into view. The necromancer continues his magical assault by uttering another incantation; a wave of orange light lashes through the watery globe and flies into the dragon’s side.
“A necromancer!” Anken’mar painfully shouts as the two large creatures hold him in place. “How clever of you…” He winces in further pain as Iltar’s life-draining magic reaches deep into his body. It penetrates his scales and seeps into his skin, and then into the tissue below the natural armor.
Anger and frustration form upon Anken’mar’s snout as the small band overpowers him. He drops the severed magma limb and strikes the arm of the transmutive creature grappling him, jarring it loose. Anken’mar unleashes a flurry of strikes against the magical minions with his front claws and his hind legs, alternating legs keep his balance. However, the creatures hold their own against the dragon.
A second volley of magical arrows pierces Anken’mar’s side with the same explosive power as the other arrows, allowing the transmutation and the conjuration to re-grapple the exiled beast.
Standing near Iltar with weapons drawn, Cornar looks back into the trees toward the south east and sees a short figure kneeling on the ground, poised with his bow. As the arrow leaves the bow, the man lowers the weapon and reaches behind him. With his face clearly visible, Cornar recognizes Tilthan and laughs. The thief rarely got involved in a battle.
Amid the thief’s volley of arrows, Iltar continues casting his spells; several bolts of acid fly from the darkened watery sphere, striking Anken’mar’s right side, further weakening him. Nevertheless, the great serpent continues his fervent attacks against his large foes.
At that same moment, rumbling footfalls echo from behind Iltar. Both conjurations who slew the old dragons run past him on either side, shaking the ground as they bound toward Anken’mar.
The dragon lets out a raging roar as the two reinforcing magma giants approach. One of them leaps through the air and tackles Anken’mar, slightly jarring him from his two captors; yet the skeletal being and the wounded magma conjuration follow the dragon’s tumble. The last conjuration steps on top of its wounded companion and over to the other side of the dragon.
Each of the creatures firmly plant themselves around Anken’mar. The two reinforcing elementals grab his arms with one of their magma heated hands while using the other to force him to the ground. Iltar’s skeletal conjuration releases its grip from the severed limb and thrusts both of its hands down on the dragon’s head.
Kalder and the others arrive on the scene in time to behold their triumph against Anken’mar, yet neither Tilthan nor Amendal are with them. The warriors and thieves stop beside Iltar and gaze at the subdued dragon in awe, amazed at their accomplishment.
Still encased in his protective necrotic sphere, Iltar steps toward Anken’mar. He notices the beast’s left eye is completely missing, and all that is left is an empty socket of rotting flesh.
9
Reversal
Stepping close to Anken’mar’s head, Iltar stares at his decaying eye socket and laughs, “Well, Lord of Metal, you’re certainly not as powerful and intelligent as you though.”
“I’m impressed, human,” the dragon snarls, his head pressed against the ground. “Your small band is quite strong; however, if I wasn’t cursed, you would have all perished!” The last of his words seethe with anger. “It took many of the strongest dragons to enslave me, and not even my former mentor, one of the greatest of all dragonkind, could wrest me by himself.
“You have your victory; kill me and cherish it, for both will be short lived.”
Puzzled at the last remark Iltar asks, “What does that mean, ‘both will be short lived’?”
“Oh,” Anken’mar glares, “Now look who’s less intelligent.”
Insulted, Iltar’s face twists with rage, “I am the one in control; you bow to me!” Further angered, the necromancer shouts the words to an incantation.
The others watch as Iltar’s anger erupts. For the first time they see that whatever transpired must have been hard for the necromancer to endure, and he was finally letting his emotions loose.
“You will answer my questions!” Iltar shouts, and gray magical particles swirl around his palm. The magic leaps from his protective sphere and then into the dragon’s forehead.
“You won’t… get… any answers,” Anken’mar struggles as the magic seeps into his mind.
“Oh, but I will…” Iltar’s protective barrier fades. “I will.”
With that said, Iltar reaches his hand out and squeezes it shut. The necromancer smiles at his captor-turned-captive and says, “Now we can get to the true purpose of our meeting… finally.
“I will ask you some questions, and you will answer them.”
“You may not like the answers, human.”
“I’ll be the judge of that. Now first, is the amulet on Merdan?”
Anken’mar struggles but cannot resist the controlling magic in his cursed and weakened state. “Yes, the metallic housing is on the Isle of Merdan.”
“Good…” Iltar oozes the word. He turns to Cornar, who has just reached his side, and gives the warrior a smug smile. “Now we are getting somewhere.
“Where on Merdan?”
“The Fortress City of Merda. It used to be kept by the elves, under order from the Ril’Sha, the draconic council, in the deepest reaches of the fortress. Now I don’t know where he keeps it…”
“Who keeps it?” Iltar snaps.
“The Devourer. He has it now,” Anken’mar lets out a throaty laugh at the thought, still in some control of his actions. “He will consume you, just as he did the armies of men and elves.”
Cornar looks at Iltar with confusion. He senses his friend’s anxiety, which doesn’t help ease his own, but he turns back to the dragon without comment.
Ignoring Anken’mar’s musing, Iltar continues his interrogation, “Where are the other parts of the amulet? The ruby and the activating spell?”
“Your guess is as good as mine,” Anken’mar grunts, attempting to move his head to face Iltar, but his neck gives way under the weight of the skeletal creature’s push. “I heard the scroll once rested with a group of humans; but that Order has since been destroyed… It could be anywhere.”
Iltar folds his arms and looks into the night sky, thinking that maybe all the work they went through to subdue this beast was useless.
After several moments of silent contemplation Iltar returns his attention to the dragon. “Who knows how to use the completed amulet, and who knows where all the pieces are located?”
“I don’t know…” Anken’mar pauses. “The Ril’Sha? Their pathetic leader? Take your pick, human. Remember, I’m a fugitive, and before my exile I didn’t spend much time with the other platinum dragons.”
“You are infuriating!” Iltar yells. “I should have killed you instead of one of those older dragons, perhaps they could have answered my questions.”
“Finally, you are right about one thing, human… the first you dispatched was the same who exiled me; he would have had much more of the information you seek.”
Iltar eyes widen, but then he realizes his mind control spell is slowly loosing effect.
“Your spell is wearing thin, Alacor…” Anken’mar chuckles.
Turning to Iltar, Cornar asks with a raised brow, “You told him your name was Alacor? You must really hate that bastard.”
“Humph,” Iltar grumbles before asking his final question. “This is the last thing I’ll ask you, beast. How do I travel to other worlds? And where is the stone talked about by the elves that enables me to do so?”
“The shiz’n
ak? You think there’s just one?” Anken’mar continues to chuckle. “And why would we dragons hide something we so readily use? Your spell is gone, necromancer. I am free of your bonds!”
At that moment, the dragon forces his head up and jolts the skeletal creature away. He opens his jaws and lets out a loud screeching scream; a rallying cry like he demonstrated earlier, but much louder.
“And now you’ll die!” Anken’mar cackles. “A fate deserving your species!”
Amid Anken’mar’s cackle, he turns to face Iltar and the two beings lock gazes. The dragon’s last remaining eye reflects the light of one of Kalda’s moons, making it clearly visible to Iltar. It shines a beautiful gray with flecks of red and black spiraling from the pupil to the edge of the iris. As he focuses on Iltar, the dragon’s black abyssal aperture expands, shifting the strains of black and red to compress.
For a moment, time stands still as the dragon and necromancer lock gazes. A sense of overwhelming fear consumes Iltar, partially his own, but most of it flowing emotions from Anken’mar: anger, arrogance, condescension and utter disgust for the necromancer.
A faint sharp screech in the distance interrupts their gaze, drawing Anken’mar’s attention. He turns to face it, severing the stare; nevertheless, a strange feeling lingers within Iltar’s mind.
Hearing the faint screech to the north, the members of Iltar’s expedition turn to face the sound as well. The evening is well into dusk, and the party cannot see far into the valley.
Regaining his composure, Iltar mentally commands his skeletal minion to grab hold of the dragon’s head and force it back down to the ground.
Just as Anken’mar’s head is pinned again, Kalder rushes forward; his bloodied weapon held by both hands and the blade raised high above his head to the right.
“Wait!” Iltar calls out, and the warrior stops just before the dragon’s snout. “I want the pleasure,” Iltar angrily steps forward and takes the weapon from Kalder’s hands.
Turning to the dragon Iltar declares, “Before you die, I want you who really killed you. I am Iltar, an unrivaled necromancer and the next ruler over your kind!”
“I know who and what you are,” Anken’mar states coldly while glaring at Iltar. “Unspoken One.”
With one boney hand still on Anken’mar’s head, as well as its entire weight, the skeletal creature reaches down, and lifts Iltar to his snout. The necromancer rushes forward and with one swift stroke, pierces the dragon with Kalder’s claymore.
Anken’mar attempts to let out a dying scream, but he’s muffled by the skeletal creature holding his snout with its boney hand.
Iltar stares at Anken’mar, examining his large eye, which is flickering, but it abruptly stops. His last eye rests in stillness; the surrounding scales trapped in a frozen expression of contempt.
Grunting, Iltar climbs off, landing on the dirt and causing a cloud of dust to billow beneath him.
“We need to go,” Cornar urges his friend frankly. Turning to the others, he commands, “Get back to the cave, quickly!”
Kalder rushes forward to retrieve his sword, and the skeletal creature pulls it from the dragon’s skull, handing it to the warrior. Shaking his head, Kalder grabs his bloodied weapon of death and chases after the others that are now running back up the path to the cave.
While the party flees, Iltar’s minion dims in hew. The bone-like mass loses cohesion, and the re-purposed dirt falls to the ground in a pile over the dragon’s head and in front of him.
As Iltar makes his way up to the cave entrance, he notices the body of his friend, Igan, lying lifeless on the ground. Igan’s mouth is barely opened and his eyes stare up into the night sky. Shock and frustration over his ally’s death threaten to overwhelm him, but he quickly shakes it away and hastily scales the switchback path. Cornar follows behind him, and both men are the last to enter the safety of the tunnel.
They pass Amendal, who is still sitting cross-legged at the threshold. Cornar darts past him and further into the tunnel while Iltar leans toward the old conjurer.
“Amendal,” Iltar barks, “We have to go! Dismiss them!”
Iltar looks to the north and sees the three monstrosities still pinning the dragon to the ground. The necromancer gazes into the sky above them and sees three shimmering specks, each growing in size. A moment later, the sound of rushing wind faintly fills the valley.
Great… More dragons, Iltar worriedly thinks to himself.
Still in a focused state, the old conjurer remains on the floor.
Growling, Iltar reaches down and grabs Amendal from under his arms and pulls him deeper within the cave, jarring him from his concentration.
“That’s it?” Amendal mumbles and looks around, stumbling to his feet. “We’re not going to kill more?”
Once they’re deeper inside the tunnel, Iltar lets go of Amendal. The necromancer briefly watches as the other members of the expedition quickly gather their gear and prepar to move back through the cavern.
“Cornar,” Iltar calls out, “Come here.”
The leading warrior barking orders and makes his way over to Iltar’s side.
“It looks like there’re three more after us,” Iltar whispers as Cornar steps closer to the necromancer.
The duo edges back toward the mouth of the cave and looks at the scene before them: The three creatures Amendal conjured are uncontrollably roaming upon the plain. In the sky above them, both men can make out the forms of dragons soaring toward the conjurations.
Two of the dragons descend and hover over the magma creatures. They immediately dispatch the conjurations with a sharp sound and point of their large talons. Yellow portals instantly appear over each and pull the magmatic creatures through the mystical thresholds. With the elemental conjurations, gone these same two dragons descend and investigate the great serpent Iltar had just slain moments ago.
Iltar and Cornar can hear the third dragon circling around, his wings creating large gusts of wind that wisp across the mouth of the tunnel.
Glancing to Cornar, the necromancer creeps forward then looks upward without stepping outside the cave. He notices the dragon moving away from the mountains, gliding back toward the other two while looking around the foothills. Without landing, the third dragon ascends into the air, flying overhead and disappearing over the mountains, the sound of its wings fading rapidly
Cornar silently shakes his head at Iltar, concern on his face, while Iltar widens his eyes and sighs; each contemplate the precarious situation they’ve plunged themselves and their friends into.
Iltar turns around and walks to the others, regaining his composure of leadership, “We must make our way back out the same way we came. When we get to the lair of the tarrasque we will send the thieves through to scout.”
“What about the remaining tralyx?” Nordal asks.
“We will deal with them if they show themselves,” Cornar replies. “The one that ran is still nursing its wounds, and I doubt it will bring others at our approach.”
“Let’s hope so,” Hagen stammers.
“Amendal, where are those creatures you conjured?” Cornar looks around the darkened cave.
“They’re ahead. I will send them further into the cave to block any tralyx while we make our escape.”
“Kalder, stay in the rear with me!” Cornar commands.
“Yes, Cor!”
With all orders given, Iltar moves about the tunnel and searches for his small bag, the only object left on the tunnel’s floor.
Hex utters an incantation to bring forth a magical ball of light to illuminate the tunnel; a source of pure magic that suspends itself in a vibrant sphere near the wizard’s shoulders.
“Hurry,” Iltar says as he secures his pack. “We don’t have time to waste!”
The party hastily departs, following Iltar back through the rocky passageway. With quicker speed than before, the expedition arrives at the branch in the cave leading to the tarrasque’s lair
.
Once the group reaches the colossal cavern’s entrance, Iltar motions for them to stop.
The necromancer turns back and says in a hushed voice, “Two of you thieves check the cave and the tunnel for signs of the monster.”
Nath and Nemral wrap their cloaks about themselves and quietly enter the lair.
Meanwhile, Cornar turns and looks at Tilthan, who is in the middle of the group leaning against the stone surface of the small tunnel. “Too tired to go take a look, huh?”
After several seconds, Tilthan realizes the comment was directed to him, and he looks back to Cornar. “I was shooting magical arrows at a dragon… Do you know how nerve-racking it is handling those things? They can go off in your face!”
Several of the warriors chuckle at the thief’s comments, and Cornar just shakes his head. A while later the two thieves return.
“We saw nothing of the beast,” Nath reports to the necromancer. “It must still be outside. We heard some faint sounds as we walked near the entrance, but when I looked outside I couldn’t see it.”
“Let’s all move over to the entrance and have a look outside,” Iltar says as he moves to cross the large cave and motions the others to follow.
While moving across the dustless floor, the necromancer notices that the light seeping into the massive chasm is still beaming as it did earlier that day.
They arrive at the southern mouth of the enormous cave and the necromancer motions for the same two thieves to scout the southern plain. They quickly exit the cave and move down the beaten path, undoubtedly created by the creature in past rampages.
After several minutes the party faintly hears the noise of the tarrasque coming from the west of the large valley, but it’s nowhere to be seen.
Nath gives a soft whistle as he un-shrouds himself near the others, appearing as he walks toward them into the shelter of the cavern. “I couldn’t see it, and it sounds even fainter than before. The thing must be heading west. I think we should bolt across the plain and down that elven path.”
Iltar’s eyes narrow in thought as he considers Nath’s report. Suddenly, after several seconds of silence, the thought hits him. The food! None of the thieves were carrying food in their packs. Perhaps that attracted it.
“Iltar,” Cornar nudges his friend, “What are you waiting for? We have to get out of here, now!” the words have a sense of urgency that only Iltar notices.
“Empty your packs of food,” Iltar says as he looks out into the valley, “And lets travel in pairs. We can’t all stay together, it’s too dangerous. We will split up and meet back at the beach. I trust you all know how to get back to the trail leading to the coastline?” Iltar turns back and looks each man in the eye to get an answer.
In unison, they all nod their heads in the affirmative.
“You thieves can go separately. I don’t think the monster will hear or see us. If we run, we can get across this plain in an hour and a half, then another hour down to the beach. After that, we will be on the Farling and heading home.
“We have four mages and five warriors, so pair up. Cornar you’re with me as usual.” Iltar snaps out the orders quickly, motioning down at the path then to the west.
“We will go in stages. The thieves go first, wait a little while then Hagen you go next. Hex wait a couple minutes then you go. Amendal, you go after them. Cornar and I will bring up the rear.”
“If we run while we’re invisible, we’ll still give ourselves away,” Hagen retorts.
“Just do it!” Iltar looks at the illusionist with a frustrated glare and thinks to himself, The tarrasque is not what I intend to be invisible from. A dragon cannot hear us running while it soars above.
The three thieves immediately cover themselves with their cloaks and vanish into the night. Their running footsteps lightly sounding from the ground.
In turn, each of the four mages cast their invisibility magics just before their dash into the open plain. Hagen is the first, and Nordal grabs his shoulder, then both vanish. The sounds of their pounding feet on the dirt fades as they run into the night.
One by one, each of the remaining pairs are veiled in concealing magic and vanish into the dark. Hex, Shen, and Aron follow Hagen and Nordal’s lead. Several minutes after, Amendal and Kalder hurry across the plain.
Iltar and Cornar wait several minutes before they leave. As they wait, Iltar ties a rope between himself and his friend. He neglected to tell the others to do the same, and he silently swears to himself. The necromancer releases a deep sigh and then covers both he and his friend in the invisibility magic.
“Cor, let’s go.”