The Ebon Crusade

Part Three

       Battle. Battle yet again. Rith leapt from the dragon and sprinted for the nearest building, veiled soldiers moving to intercept him. Seven between him and the house. He reached back and grabbed his sword, tearing it from its sheath and into the flesh of his first opponent in one fluid motion. The creature fell, letting out a chittering scream like an oversized grasshopper.

       Rith pivoted and threw the sword, focusing magical energy through the hilt as he did so. The blade spun through the air, crackling with lightning, and imbedded itself in the head of the second creature. Before it could touch the ground, a wave of electricity exploded out from the monster and threw its allies into the air.

       They struck the surface of the street as Rith pulled his sword from its victim and used it to silence the last of his enemies. The way was clear. He threw open the door to the modest home and glanced around. There was no easy way to determine if anyone was still here . . .

       Roswynn rolled as he hit the ground. He stood and found himself immediately surrounded by whatever strange beasts had invaded the city, their weapons in hand. Hand. He smiled.

       In response to his silent order, a severed hand crawled from inside Roswynn’s jacket, a small metal barb extending from the middle finger.

       “Go on, Handy!” The gnome giggled. “Kill them!”

       The hand jumped from its place on his shoulder and landed squarely on the face of the first attacker. It stabbed the barb into its prey, injecting a deadly toxin.

Roswynn drew a crossbow, throwing his cloak aside theatrically. He discharged the weapon into the nearest enemy and burst out laughing. “Hoo hoo hoo! We sure make a great team, don’t we handy? Oh, that one! Get him, there!”

Rith ran from a burning building, a young girl in the crook of his arm. Outside stood a small group of survivors he had rescued, each armed with a weapon taken from a fallen invader. He handed the girl to the nearest man. “Here, take this. We need to keep moving. Keep your head down and follow me.”

Behind them, the dragon on which Rith arrived was wading through a large group of enemies, crushing some beneath its claws and roasting others with jets of flame.

Rith pointed in its direction. “The dragon is well trained. It will clear a path to the palace. You just need to stay behind it and fight off any stragglers it leaves behind. You should be fine as long as you stay together and watch each other’s backs. I’m going back to look for more survivors. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Roswynn crawled through the frame of the window he had just smashed to find a frightened woman threatening him with a broom.

“Oh for the love of all that is holy!” he moaned. “Do I look like a monster? I’m here to rescue you, you ungrateful hag!”

She hesitated . . .

Roswynn grimaced. “You got kids or what? We need to get out of here, I haven’t got all day.”

The woman nodded and ran off, returning a moment later with three small children.

“Oh look, they’re all taller than me. Silly gnomeness. Come on, let’s get you a real weapon.”

Rith thrusted his sword through the chest of an opponent and twirled around, bringing it from one body into another. The creature’s head fell to the ground, separating from its helmet. It looked like some sort of insect . . . large eyes, mandibles, a bony shell . . .

The next was upon him before he had time to contemplate this sight. He grabbed a spear dropped by his last victim and jammed the point into the monster standing behind him. He kicked out, knocking another off balance and sending it staggering into a group of its allies. Rith jumped into the air and tore a hole through reality, sending him into the air above the tangled heap of enemies who were now scrambling to stand. He landed in the center of the group, sending out an electrical shockwave that instantly ended the lives of everyone around him.

He stood, panting. The spells were beginning to drain him. Just one more house. One more family, and then he would meet up with the others. Or two. Perhaps two.

Roswynn turned to see the dragon he had flown in on, fighting its way toward the palace. He turned to his group of recue-ees. “Hey, look at that! A dragon!” He shouted. “I have an idea! Get behind it, and try to stay low. I’ll be right behind you. It should take care of most of the fighting. We’ll get to the palace at least . . .”

“What’s at the palace?” demanded one of the survivors. “We should head for the gate!”

Roswynn shook his head. “There’s nothing outside this city but barren desert and a camp full of these . . . things. Not where I want to be. Just . . . a green elf warrior person told me to go to the palace, and I don’t have a better plan, so . . .”

Without finishing his sentence, the gnome turned and dashed off toward the dragon, leaving his confused companions with no choice but to follow.

Var’ron lopped the head off his last foe, and turned to survey his surroundings. The floor of the courtyard was slick with blood and corpses lay scattered on the ground as far as the eye could see. He turned to Dyruus. “That seems to be all of them for now, but it won’t be long before more arrive. Get that door open, and keep an eye out for-”

Suddenly the wall of the courtyard exploded inward, smashed by an enormous dragon. Behind it stood Rith, Roswynn, and a large group of survivors.

Rith ran forward and addressed Var’ron. “Here we are! You have a plan right? Because I’d be really upset right now if I found out you didn’t have a plan.”

Var’ron nodded. “We have far too many to be carried by the dragons now, but there’s a teleportation stone in the palace. The king and his family will have used it to evacuate, but there should be enough energy left to take us all to the nearest city.”

“Well then.” Roswynn said. “What are we waiting for?”

The Ebon Crusade

Part Two

      

The three travelers journeyed then to the elven treecity, which lay in the woods not far away. The buildings were modest, and seemed almost a part of the forest; overgrown with lichen and flowing with the contours of the hills beneath them. At the settlements heart rested a massive sequoia, which was hollow and served as a sort of capital building.

The most striking sight however, was the gathering dragons just visible in a nearby clearing, being saddled by a group of armored elves, apparently preparing for battle. Each elf was dressed in a suit of shining plate and a deep green cape.

Rith ran immediately to the warriors. “Hail!” He shouted. “I am Rith, and these are my traveling companions. You appear to be preparing for war. May I ask where the battle is?”

“We are of the Prisidian Guard.” Replied the evident leader of the troupe. “We are bound for Vaskra’aa, for our listener has received word of a series of invasions by some sort of . . . strange beasts. Normally we do not concern ourselves with such things, but four cities have fallen already, and they are not being occupied. The aggressors simply slaughter the inhabitants and move on. We are being sent to investigate, and to drive them back if possible. Now I repay your question with another: What is your business here, Rith?”

“We were passing through really, though we certainly wouldn’t pass up a warm bed to sleep in. We come from the human settlement to the West. It was burned by a group of men who seemed possessed by some ailment, or evil spirit. We are the only survivors. On our way here we passed a Zarkidain outpost, which seems to have suffered the same fate. You wouldn’t know anything about that?”

The elf shook his head. “Very strange, that. I’m not aware of any power that can conquer the minds of intelligent creatures. Though I suppose there are . . . legends.”

The shopkeeper looked to the elf, suddenly intrigued. “What sort of legends?”

“Old stories. I read a bit back at the Cidatel. Lots of old stories there. One in particular though . . . something about souls. A bit over my head really, but it mentioned the connection between a soul and the body it inhabits, and that it could theoretically be corrupted by a sort of dark magic. It was speculation really. Never been done, at least as far as any Prisidian knows. And we know a good deal.”

Rith considered this for a moment. “I wonder if the invasions you speak of might be related. I don’t suppose you would allow me to accompany your battalion to Vaskra’aa? Even if the two events have nothing in common, I could be of some assistance. I’m good with a sword, and I can’t say I have anything I’d rather be doing.”

The elf nodded. “To be honest, I could really use a bit of extra help. I’m hesitant to trust a stranger, but . . . I suppose you can come. Just know that you’ll have to fend for yourself if we encounter these creatures. I can’t spare the manpower to protect you.”

Roswynn leapt up from his seat in the grass. “This is starting to sound like fun!”

Rith turned and gave the gnome an incredulous look.

“What? It’s been months since I’ve almost died! I’m bored as hell, and nearly out of gold to pay for wine and women. This is exactly what I’ve been hoping for, so if swordy is going, so am I.”

The elf smiled. “Very well. I’m called Var’ron. If I’m not mistaken, we should have enough room on our dragons for the two of you.”

Rith climbed onto the back of the dragon, smiling despite himself. “Hold fast, and don’t let go! We’ll not circle back for you if you fall!” Var’ron shouted back as his dragon lunged into the air. The world around him lurched, and Rith looked down to see the beast upon which he sat flap its enormous wings. The ground quickly fell away beneath its feet as it carried its passengers into the sky.

The journey was long, but the two travelers hardly noticed. Too entranced were they by the thrill of flight and the beauty of the ocean below to become bored. In fact, it seemed all too soon when the sea gave way to land. Soon, a city became visible in the distance, a tiny dot on the horizon growing steadily larger with each moment. As they grew closer, it became readily apparent that the city was under attack by a massive army.

Legions broke against the city’s defenses like ocean waves, swarming over the walls and knowing away at its gates. By the time the dragons were close enough to land, the battle had already ended. The city was overrun, its guards in full retreat. The invaders had begun to slaughter the civilians and burn everything in sight.

“Now is your chance to prove yourselves!” Var’ron yelled over the cacophony of battle. “Gather as many innocents as you can and fight your way to the palace. I’ll meet you there. Oh, and try not to die, I would be very disappointed!”

The Ebon Crusade

Part One

       The only building other than the tavern which appeared to be completely unharmed was the brothel. They were probably spared out of luck alone. The door to the whorehouse was unlocked, but Rith found it to be abandoned. Or . . . perhaps not. The soft sound of snoring could be heard coming from the open door of a room down the hall.
       The creature responsible turned out to be a gnome called Roswynn, who happily introduced himself to Rith upon waking as if there were nothing at all unusual about their situation. Rith informed him of the tragedy.
       “Really?” he grumbled, scratching his head. “I slept through a battle eh? I knew I was a heavy sleeper but that . . . Well, I was drunk as a dwarf I suppose. Sweet Creator, What a night! I wonder how many women I paid for, must’ve been at least-”

Rith held up a hand to silence him. “So you know nothing of the invaders, then?”

The gnome shook his head. “Just blew into town last night. I’m a traveler. Bit of an adventurer you see. Although the last time I had a decent job was-”

“I’m going back out to look for more survivors,” Rith interrupted. “Are you coming, or would you rather sit here and reminisce to the floor boards about your days questing in Zarkadia?”

The small town, as it turns out, was home to a small magic shop owned by a retired professor, whom Rith and Roswynn found cowering behind a table, amid the ruins of his store. The invaders had ransacked the place and stolen only one thing: A small gem, which the man described as “Uncut, and black as night, but purple in the light.” He told them they would know it instantly if they found it (as it would be ice cold to the touch), and offered a bounty of 200 gold for its return.

“That’s all well and good,” Rith replied “And I’m sure my friend the adventurer will be happy to find your gem. But I’d like to know about these invaders. Have you seen them before? Do you know who they might be?”

The old man shook his head. “No. It’s very odd, that. They were dressed like peasants. But did you notice? Their eyes were solid white, and faintly glowing, I’d say. They had an air of magic about them. Dark magic by the feel of it.”

Rith nodded, an idea beginning to take shape in his mind. “They took your gem . . . and nothing else. Is it possible that they came here looking for it?”

The store owner thought for a moment on this. “I suppose. Though they also seemed fairly intent on burning the town. There was one . . . the one who took the gem. He didn’t stay. He ran off, that one, into the forest. There’s a small city to the East, an imperial outpost. He might have been headed there.”

Rith rose to his feet. “Anywhere else?”

“Let me see . . .  there’s an elf city in the woods to the North. But I doubt a thief would go there. I think the Prisidians even have some troops-”

“Very well. Thank you for your help,” Rith said, turning to leave.

“Now hold on! If you’re headed to a settlement, then I’m coming with you. This town has been destroyed, and I’m a refugee now. I could use a bit of muscle to keep me safe on the road.”

             Their journey began that morning, and they were able to reach the imperial outpost by nightfall. Unfortunately, they found it destroyed. Many of the buildings were still in flames, and courpses littered the ground. The arrangement of the bodies was such that they appeared to have killed each other.

The store owner fell to his knees. “How? How could this have happened?”

Rith knelt and examined one of the bodies. “This looks like a civil war. The citizens and soldiers alike seem to have slaughtered one another.”

Roswynn followed suit, choosing to examine a face rather than a wound. “Look at this,” he whispered. “Solid white eyes. Just like the peasants that attacked the villiage.”

“Are all of them that way?”

“It would appear so.”

Rith stood. “This is . . . unsettling. These pale eyes seem to mark innocent men who have been made into killers, like dogs gone rabid. I wonder if this might be some kind of plague.”

Roswynn nodded. “We should leave, lest we become infected as well. These people will be of no help to us anyway.”