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?”