“Eh.” He didn’t have the Whiskers of the Wild Tat, although it was something he had plans on acquiring, as why not be able to talk to dogs and fishes and whatnot? “Ye’ll make a better show of it, all in leathers instead of proper steel and the like.”
She just shrugged. “My smithing time is pretty damn full, and it is NOT easy making some skinplate, and I won’t be satisfied with anything lesser.”
“Not blaming ye, Highness. Don’t mind the view when fighting either way now, right?”
He didn’t really look back at the Knights waiting there, but there was a burst of coughing and creaking as heads turned away behind him.
She just took it with an eight-canine smile that looked deadly enough on its own. “Enjoy it while it lasts! Of course, skinplate has its own form of sex appeal.” She sidled her hips just so, the Mick clapped his gauntlet over his eyes, and a whole bunch more coughs sounded behind him.
“That’s really unfair, Highness!” Milee piped up from the back.
“Imperial privilege!” Kris shot back promptly, pointing. “We clear this place clean and true. I’m Vanguard, Lord Mick is Rearguard! Form it up and let’s start clearing this place!”
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There was a lot of Blight to send Burning in misty iceflame, but their progress was fairly quick and by the numbers. There were two attempts to box them in with numbers and sandwich them between larger numbers, attempts that ran into the Mick, Kris, and Shield walls that stopped them cold and violently, while driving spears and icy missiles tore them steadily apart as the Blighted moarsmen fought to the bitter end.
Down two more sub-levels, clearing out two Spawning pools with Sweet Water Potions that destroyed all the spawn and eggs within them immediately, even if vivus didn’t go shooting them through removing the magic and Blight in them at the same time.
Breeding females, moars, young moars; all were cut down without exception, all of them Blighted and infected with the otherworldly black corruption of T’Thuun.
The final flight down brought them in a cave system carved out with modern methods and lined with bricks, more a subterranean dwelling than a cave system. Obviously built by Isparian hands, it also had been infiltrated by the Blight in great thick veins and patches of slime and mold stained an oozing black.
There were a couple attacks by more heavily built moarsmen with thicker scales, and desperate priests tossing Lightning and other spells behind them. All were dealt with as the teams rolled through the corridors, clearing them out and living nothing intact behind, making sure nothing was infiltrating behind them as they slowly moved in on the final chamber, where once the Black Market had held its gathering of cheap illicit goods to tempt the most powerful of the warriors on Dereth to part with their money.
The remnants of the moarsmen were gathered in that final chamber. What remained of their breeders, and the fighting population, along with at least a score of moarsmen head and shoulders taller than their compatriots.
The king was almost completely black of scale, standing before a crude throne of cut ivory from one of the gigantic niffi shells, also infected with veins of black. He was also a full eight feet tall, and had four massively clawed arms.
The stench was incredible, and everyone had Masks on just so they could breathe freely, even if the vivus on their Weapons was burning heartily and attempting to clear the air.
Kris stood out in front of the line of Shields, all of them set with Vivic Eternal Lights and lighting up the whole room. She noted moarsmen heading out the other opening, intending to circle around them and cut them off, and Quaver dinged once to tell everyone to watch out behind.
The Mick was back there with four knights and the archers. The flank attack wasn’t going to go anywhere.
That said, such things should be done properly.
She raised Quaver, the Lost Light sparkling diamonds of cold, clear Light across the enlarged eyes of the moarsmen, and held him out, pointing at the king on his throne.
The shamans to either side of the King leveled their staves at her and sent out, not lightning, but the purple-black of Void magic!
Kris was offended, but not surprised in the slightest, that they’d be using the most corrupted magic known to the natives of Dereth. Elemental resistances naturally meant nothing to such necroic magic, but magic was still magic, and it still had to pierce her Null, and get past her Shields and Sword.
The first one hit her Null and faded into nothing. The second punched into it and maintained its cohesion, like feeling a sick, slimy force intruding on her soul.
Quaver sliced across with a flick of her wrist as Kris Spellcut it, shattering the spell into useless fragments that dissipated into her Null. The contempt in the gesture was complete, and the two, obviously the strongest of the six shamans she could see, clearly hesitated to unleash another spell volley at her.
They didn’t know the spells would just bounce off her Shields Stand and Tall, either, but they’d find that out, too.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
The king growled, black tears dripping from eyes that burned with corrupt dark fires inside. He made a dismissive gesture to the shamans, spreading his massive claws and thick arms and roaring in a voice loud enough and deep enough to shake the stones about them.
A Hag’s Cackle cut through the roar like a nerve-jangling knife, and ding! ting! rang out like bells riding ki. Princess Kristie spread all four of her arms wide, showcasing two Shields with Burning icy Spikes on them, her Autobow Drop gleaming a fresh icy Quarrel ready to launch, and her Tail arched overhead, its four Spikes rotating slowly about it, Burning with flames identical to those on Drop.
With a rush, her Phoenix Cloak manifested as an icy shroud around her, guaranteeing that hitting her was going to be painful, but it didn’t deter the King at all. With another roar that spewed black flames in a cone for ten feet in front of him, his claws dripping something noxious and black, he charged at her.
Her Shield locked in front of her, her Autobow leveled over them, and Spikes began to cycle on her Tail.
“Tremble, I come.”
Just the slightest flicker of the eyes that the source of the melody and Song that had been chasing the moarsmen through the stones of their cave was right in front of them, and she had as many arms as the King!
Hissing autobolts went out to greet the King as he charged, shattering against his bulk as Health Qi vaporized in the rain of chillingly accurate fire.
Her counter-charge only covered ten feet, and she didn’t have a quarter of his mass, but her heavyfoot was incredible, and she was far, far stronger than she had any right to be.
Her Shields weren’t battered aside, and she wasn’t swatted aside or run over like she should have been. The surprise on the King’s face was completely evident when she stopped him cold, and he even forgot to breathe in her face.
Maybe because Quaver was sticking right through his throat and out the back of his neck from the Archer Stand Thrust.
“Oaths to the Light, Oaths to the Deep, their prices must have been too steep.
Fools and Beasts fallen to T’Thuun, your traitor’s ends come none too soon.
Tremble, I come! Ohhhh, Tremble, Tremble, Tremble…”
Her blade dance erupted into motion as he heaved himself off her Blade and began to hammer and claw at her, lunging at her with flames mad more of poison than fire.
They spattered against her Phoenix Cloak, were deflected by her Shield, and smacked into motes of Lost Light that beat them and the hissing droplets of acid from his claws away one on one.
Frost erupted upon the massive claws hammering and ripping for her repeatedly, blew apart with Health Qi, and returned in the next second as his rain of blows continued with untiring stamina and tremendous force.
He could not, however, compete with her speed, nor the Tail and Autobows that could attack from any angle and punch in deep, opening him up for lightning-quick stabbing thrusts or slicing cuts that sheared into his steel-hard scales and the muscle beneath like they were a thin veneer.
Her Sword was replying to every blow, and amazingly out-trading him in pure speed. Wasp Stings drove in to take advantage of arrow fire, Breaks the Shield exploited the openings to drive another Quarrel in deep, Sword beats Fist triggered off his using natural Weapons, Riposte triggered when he missed a clawing attack, and Supernatural Opportunist triggered when he tried to breathe at her over her Shields. If he tried to move, Thorned Hedge triggered Stand Still, and a cut of frozen energy locked him into place, unable to do more than try to spin around and keep her in sight, while Defensive Sweep triggered when he remained in place, and Rending Cleave triggered when she landed successive attacks, promptly escalating into Seven Rending Dragons as she continued to land chains of attacks with incredible speed and vicious. Ranged Flanker triggered Flanking Opportunist and all her Sneak Attack damage added on top of the stack.
Pretty much nobody watching her could believe she was moving as fast as she was, her Shields counter-bashing against all its blows, and she was never thrown off her feet by the impact of the blows. If he actually tried to grab at her, the grasping claws were sheared through and he had to release her in numbing paralysis as she twisted out of his grip.
The Thunder in her Heartsong was bearing down on the King, and the penalties of her Sneak Attacks were slowing it down even further, making it even more awkward and flailing as its Health Qi dropped like a rock and it kept almost flailing at her.
“You sought the Blight, now feel the Light,
You fled The Deep, now go to sleep
Forever and gone, there is no dawn
Where you go to T’Thuun, Blighted Pawn,
You’re going to feed the Land!
Die where you stand!
Tremble, I Come!”
The Blood Rose ignited as a strike sliced across both goggling eyes for a moment, and then she was standing still and executing a full Flurry at eye-blurring speed.
Crits detonated in blasts of frost one after another, swallowing the King in dozens of overlapping Bursts as he fought to clear his vision, building, building…
His Health Qi ran out, and true blood sprayed in every direction, freezing in the air, black blood crystallizing and flaming vivic white, misting as one, two, three, seven petals formed in the air.
The moarsman king fell over heavily, right through the misting white flower in the air, and was ablaze with vivus before he hit the ground, scales already starting to corrode away as the Blight on him flared up and was devoured.
Princess Kristie stopped for a moment, although Quaver’s ringing two-tones did not stop their rhythm for a moment. Slowly, she turned around, black wounds on her skin steaming as they ignited with cold vivic fire from where the Moarsman King had landed several blows and ripped at her, finding her curiously hard to tear apart.
“TREMBLE!” she declared to them, leveling her Sword, and the moarsmen screamed and charged at her.
She slid backwards without moving her feet at all, drawing them in towards the Shield wall waiting for them, and as combat erupted at the back of the invaders, the final battle commenced at the front.