The mythril shortsword blazed in Micheal's hand, magic rising forth with Micheal's will both blinding his sight and leaving a vague impression of the blade waiting for this moment in Micheal's mind.

In a flash the mark took hold, but even then parts of the corrupted spirit fought against it. The green mark its head flared with sickly green unholy light and its attack on him redoubled. Micheal was still being crushed. Without Eva and Lindsey at his back he would have fallen to his knees, but he pushed on. He forced the bond to grow stronger and stronger, the mythril blade in his hand shining like with a glowing silver halo, the blade quivering and shining with sudden mystic might until suddenly it was as if his will and mana was suddenly combined with the great spirit trying to crush him.

More and more it gave as his blade dimmed giving him just enough to continue on, and stay conscious as its blasting flow faded, and, then with sudden clarity, its power filled him looping back into the spell to free its mind. It raged and fought together with him now against the parts that were as of yet not under complete control. It shrieked in howled ghostly screams and its body filled with mud and plant life. Its attack subsided completely, but still pressed on as it held its head and continued to shriek even as the corruption of the shamans was cleansed from its great and massive being until a singular last flash of brilliant white light flooded the room. And then it fell away into the pool below, pure and clean water spreading from it with a bright light that suddenly lit the temple around him.

Mana from the elemental rushed through Micheal, through the bond he had just made, and filled him. He had poured his will into the mark and finally freed this creature completely from the shamans' clutches. There were flashes in his mind. He heard Julia yell bitter victory and crash against his side holding her shoulder tight with her good arm. Flashes. More flashes. A voice like time and eternity like water cutting through rock soft, gentle, but insistent. A force of life and preservation.

The elemental rose again, a combined being with all the life of the swamp lands, its body a torrent of living plant life and swarming insects, frogs, and minnows, its limbs great torrents of mud and the twisted gnarled roots of trees. It roared, shaking the ground and the whole temple at once, its arms striking out above Micheal's head.

A wave of mud and earth flew over his head and plastered the orcs pouring in from the halls beyond back the way they came and buried them. He couldn't think. Something was inside him. Filling him. Like life and water filled rage of a once heavenly nirvana pouring into his soul pure and clean charging him with energy. It powered him, drove him beyond the limits he had just met and opened his mind to the beating heart of the wetlands.

An image of something so brilliant overwhelmed his mind, but then he was back, and knew just what to do!

“JACK!” He roared and without pause he was charging around the elemental without a thought spent in what it was doing.

He already knew. It was time. Time to escape. He would get his friends out of this place, and she would drown what orcs in her reclaimed lands. His sword staff was in hand and he came across at the bridge with Mike and Vivian at his back, Eva and Lindsey following behind. He was the crushing river rapids, the living will of the water burst through a dam that could no longer hold back his ancient rage. He was the tornado, the thunderstorm, and raging wind. He was the streams cutting through rock and earth!

The fighters ahead saw him coming even Leah jumped back as Micheal joined Jack at the fore of the fight as the great black Bear Dog doubled, and then tripled in size, his wounds and weariness fading completely as he let out a bellowing roar at his master's side like the crash of all the tides of the world put into one moment. There was something, something in their connection that was flaring, roaring with the same energy that filled Micheal.

Jack's mail split and shed from his body and his huge black furred shape crashed through and bore down the half dozen pig ogres in the doorway like a twenty pound bowling ball going through ten pins. Micheal followed him in with each of his strikes against the orcs landing with great force and ripping through the vitals of downed orcs and pig ogres alike. His blade flared with a watery aura that cut through armor and flesh with force like that of rocks exposed to thousands of years of rushing whips of water in an instant. The floor was no longer slipping under his feet and he roared with angry words coming from lips that he paid no heed to.

Dexter, Vivian, Lindsey, Luna, Mike, Eva, Julia, Pelanna, everyone, even the Brazen Boys were behind him rushing with him as orcs crashed down the other hall through the wall of earth and mud the elemental had sprayed upon them. They were cast down by the mighty elemental of wetlands howling now in its center of its holy place, awake, aware, and enraged beyond all belief. The whole group was at his back, wide eyed and screaming bloody fury as he led the way up leading the crushing wave of his friends and allies out of this place all taken up with the spell and the fury of the pack.

He and Jack, his furry companion now suddenly surprisingly giant to his conscious mind, but the oddness of that never had the chance to stick to him in the moment charged up the hall and to the door killing and breaking the bodies of orcs apart on their way with savage efficiency. It was all just a haze of red to his mind, his weapon roaring with newly imbued magical fury, flashing, slicing, and hacking.

Jack led the way through the excavated tunnel at the top of the hall and out the side of the camp and still they fought on. Dexter was at Micheal's side as they broke into a run under a storming angry sky. He was firing arrows back at the orcs behind and the group was running ahead. Micheal's feet ran across the swampy marsh as if it were as good as blacktop, the others doing the same at his side, and still he raged inside flooded with power and purpose, rage, and vengeance. Dexter's quiver was nearly empty and a horde of black armor and green skin followed after them in the rain. He could feel the elemental in the temple below filling the place with water, raging at the drowning orcs around them, sucking in whatever of them it could wrap in vines, batter with rocks, or suck into the mud.

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The storm above them was a raging, concentrated thing. Lightning fell from the sky and into the orcish ranks, wind, rain, and hail blinded and battered goblins and orcs alike that tried to raise bows against them.

“Wall of Protection!” Pelanna cried and a wall slammed down to hamper their chase and block their arrows as they began to rain down on them.

On and on they ran until riders came to their aid throwing out walls of lightning and throwing waves of earth back at the pursuing army of orcs until they fell back some in the raging storm that seemed to follow in the party's wake.

Riders?

Each moment passed like a slideshow to Micheal's mind. He was sure he had seen them coming, but couldn't remember. His body ached, and his mind....

Micheal's thoughts blurred back into control of his conscious mind completely for the first time since he bound the elemental. The flood of energy had begun to fade from his mind and body taking with it what felt like a spirit that had possessed him different from the one he had marked. He could feel it going back, filling the storm, raging all around him in creatures like how he had bound the mana into Jack. He remembered the fighting, but barely.

It all happened so fast. He was dizzy suddenly and there was just suddenly someone was under his arm holding him up before he could fall into the mud. A potion was given to him, but its effects felt dim. No, no it wasn't that. It just didn't compare to the mana he had felt before. The potion was working. The potion was just more like a little nine volt battery compared to the lightning that had just been flowing through him.

His breath was ragged. His heart was hammering painfully in his chest. His lungs burned like fire and stinging sensations shot across his skin and to the various painful wounds he had taken and just now came aware of. But in spite of all that he felt dim. Like he had been glowing so brightly, but now with the glare of it in his mind he couldn't see or think. His memory faltered, losing track of events.

What had happened? How had they gotten out? How had he done those things?

The Light and Tree help him what had he done?

The land and wet still beat under his feet and the spirit bonded to him raged around him unseen in the rising storm as it covered their flanks, and turned the predators of swamp against the orcs, but he could do no more. He was spent, done, but too soon.

“That's it, Micheal keep it up.”

That was Luna's voice. Her small, but sturdy frame got under his other arm. He had his spear in his hand. His sword was at his belt. When had he gotten his spear back? He had been fighting with it hadn't he? Lindsey had it; was she okay?

Where was Eva? She had been at his back.

He could almost still feel her there, the warmth of the two of them pressing against his back and the magic that had been flowing through them. Something about it was so strange, but he just couldn't place it. He felt like he was adrift in his own mind, struggling to keep above the waves that threatened to suck him down into darkness deeper than sleep.

“Come on Micheal. We're almost there.” Vivian panted, sounding strained and winded at his other side. She had been there for some time, holding him up, and keeping him running.

They were all running. Riders broke off from their group and loud chants rang out with the cracks and rushes of spells behind them. He could feel each of their magics working. Like vibrations against his skin, if his skin were the land and water all around. His feet and hands were going numb. He didn't want to lose his spear in this muck. He would never find it again. His head rolled and he saw that his sword was in its scabbard at his belt.

Yes that was right. It felt heavy though. So heavy as compared to before. He remembered it shining in his hand, remembered the ancient enchantment coming forth from the deep memories of the blade to aid him.

“Wield me!” A strange voice somewhere in his memory, all sensation, and desire, but direct enough to be words. The blade seemed worn out now, but content. How odd of a thing to notice.

“Come on!” Vivian wailed in a desperate cry trying to keep him up as his steps faltered and his feet betrayed him with their fatigue. His body was like a lead weight, there was no strength left in him at all.

Dexter was there and Micheal was hauled up to his feet on the tall nomad’s shoulder with Vivian still at his side. Where was Luna? Was...was Lindsey okay? He couldn’t see either of them. He tried to speak these thoughts out loud, but all he could do was gasp for breath.

The rain was pounding on him. It was almost like hail. Maybe it was? The wind roared around them. His vision was going dark and he could barely stand let alone keep moving. His arms and legs felt fine. Why couldn't he seem to think or move them? He wasn't particularly cold but he felt oddly numb not hurt.

They hit cobblestones and someone was shouting something about closing the gate. He heard something like a swamp troll in the distance. He worried about Mike; he had been fighting wounded. Mike needed to live to see his baby.

Somehow Micheal knew it was going to be a boy. Lindsey would love to have a boy he thought. It was an odd feeling, but he wanted to hold the new born right then. He always loved holding newborns. His mind wondered. Things went black for a little while and then came back nothing but the vague sensation of his feet under him sticking to his memory.

Did they get that Brazen Boy's body? Trevor? He tried to count the others, but his neck was almost too weak to lift his head. His thoughts swam unclear and indistinct after that though only to come back in a low shallow murkiness. It wouldn't be right to leave him in the swamp. Micheal's head bobbed drunkenly. He saw the inside of his helmet. The ventilated leather and thin padding on top of the chainmail veil looked odd. There was a dark stain on it and something was dripping from his mouth. What was happening to him? Its like his veins and lungs were smoldering. He had felt so full and powerful like a rushing river then... then everything wanted to turn dark.

Jack? He wanted to pet Jack.

He was such a good dog even if he was kind of a bear monster. Denis would have to learn to get along with him. And Vivian. Vivian was important too. He just couldn't hold onto the thoughts that explained why. His feet? Why couldn't he move his feet any more? He felt his weight caught on his arms. His spear clanged to the ground.

“Let's get him inside!” Vivian shouted over all the other shouting voices and the distant roar of wind and thunder from somewhere far away.