FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Reforged pt 7

comidacomida copyright 2019

Arthur definitely didn't consider himself brash or indecisive, but when it came to the safety of his sons he definitely wasn't one to hesitate. Still, he maximized the time he had during the approach, eying the profane sources that raced down the incline that led to the road; despite the darkness of the night, he wasn't about to let his sons fight the evil presence alone. The fires around the base of the keep helped provide more lighting, but it was little reassurance once Arthur saw what it was they faced. There were horrid creatures chasing after his youngest son. Lucas had never been particularly fast due to his short stride and the unholy beasts hot on his tail moved with surreal speed.

Two of the three were slightly smaller than Humans and were covered in coarse fur. Their bestial faces were twisted in snarls and they brandished knife-like claws at the end of their long, hook-like fingers. The third was a nightmare incarnate; it was a good foot taller than its companions and a pair of small black wings spouted from its scaled back. Further back, just exiting the broken gates of Traven Keep were shambling corpses of the lord's slain men. The sight was disquieting to say the least, but Arthur didn't let it dissuade him from the rescue, charging forward despite the obvious profanity of the existence not only of fiendish hellions, but of the undead as well.

Peter was already several steps ahead of everyone else, rapidly closing the distance to his youngest brother. Arthur was able to pinpoint the moment when Lucas spied the rescue party; although the Kobold continued forward, he slowed just enough to spin around. The distance between the blacksmith and his youngest son was great but Lucas' intoned words were spoken at nearly a shout; in the span of seconds, a large, ochre colored puddle of goo splattered across half the road.

Although he was surprised, Arthur redoubled his speed, racing to Lucas' aid even as his mind tried to fathom what had just happened. The blacksmith knew of such things happening, but rarely without the aid of magic, and his youngest son had certainly never so much as picked up a book on the arcane, let alone have any familiarity with spells. With Harold at his side, the blacksmith stepped onto the road just as Peter reached Lucas' position; further behind the family, Orvig was still charging down the hill, movement hampered by the weight of his lordly armor.

The distance was too great and Arthur realized that his eldest and youngest son would clash with the foes before his arrival and he grit his teeth, powerless to do anything but rush them as fast as he could. The three dark, twisted shapes closed the distance and, despite one of them sliding to a stop in order to maintain its balance in the oil-like puddle on the roadway the other two charged right past it. The first was upon Lucas in an instant, claw lashing out with a savage blow; while it struck, the Kobold's scales appeared to turn aside the worst of it and he responded by stepping back and shouting out another series of words. In an instant, several bolts of pure magic emerged from his outstretched talon and slammed into the creature attacking him-- to no effect.

The winged one collided with Lucas a moment later and its claws did far more against the Kobold's scales. Lucas let out a gasp of pain even as the thing tried to hook its curved talons into his flesh but he was able to slip free of its grasp before it could get a solid hold. With his fighting spirit worked up in the distance he charged, Arthur collided with the large, demonic entity a moment later, forcing it away from his youngest with a powerful blow from his war hammer-- which bounced off of its head as if the blacksmith were hitting an anvil. He was so surprised at the lack of effect that he gasped aloud.

Harold had since stopped keeping pace with Arthur and the human heard the whistling of an arrow as it shot past his shoulder. The evil outsider nimbly pulled its body to the right at the last moment and the shot cut through the air, flying by harmless before colliding into a fence post beside the road. The Gnoll continued approaching, shouting from behind "Hey! I didn't hit anyone!"

Peter shouted back "Try hitting one of THEM!"

The Minotaur stepped around to the opposite side of the unnatural foe, flanking it along with his father and swung his sword with fury. Arthur goaded the thing's attention and his son caught it off guard; it was a resounding blow but, from the blacksmith's angle, it looked as though the weapon did far less damage than it should have been capable of-- not unlike his own war hammer. Somewhere in the back of his mind he remembered the priests of the temple talking about creatures from the lower planes being supernaturally resilient but he never truly appreciated that knowledge until that moment.

Arthur, Peter, and Lucas technically outnumbered the evil outsiders, but the third eventually managed to pick its way through the greasy cobblestones and joined the fray, evening out the fight in number, but upending the scales further toward pure danger for the party. Lucas, beside Arthur, lamented "Damn it-- looks like that didn't help much."

The Minotaur shot a glance back to his little brother. "Language!"

The third otherworldly creature seized the initiative and lashed out at Peter, drawing huge grooves in his flesh with its claws. Despite the injury, the Minotaur was able to force it back with his shield even as he glanced toward Arthur, shouting "Dad! Watch out!"

The smallest of the three outsiders had managed to sidestep around them, flanking Arthur opposite the largest one. Still fending off his first opponent, the blacksmith had no choice but to take its strike, twisting his body to make certain that its blow missed any of his vital organs; the pain was intense regardless.

Arthur grit his teeth. "We can barely harm these things!"

Lucas stepped away from the front line, drawing closer to his Minotaur brother before announcing. "Got it covered!"

Several words of power escaped the Kobold and a powerful yellow light suffused Peter's sword. Unable to spare much attention otherwise, Arthur's attention was forced back to the smallest outsider, which he forced back with two mighty blows from his war hammer; unlike when he struck the large one his weapon actually made some firm impacts, but the attacks didn't seem to phase his opponent greatly. Paying so much attention to the smaller one was something he regretted immediately as the largest foe slipped past him, rushing Lucas again and tearing into him with audible savagery.

Amidst the sound of scale, muscle and sinew tearing, the outsider sneered, speaking something in a profane language which sent just as much of a shiver up Arthur's spine. Fortunately, Harold came to their aid, his war hammer leading the way. The attack did no real damage against the dark being, but at least the blow pulled its attention away from Lucas, who had fallen to his knees, bleeding profusely.

Orvig also finally arrived at the skirmish line and he placed a gauntleted hand on the Kobold's back. "Hieroneous has not abandoned us! By his grace, be healed!"

The declaration was more than just rallying; with a soft silver glow, many of Lucas' wounds closed. Even as the largest of the outsiders turned to regard the Orc, Peter was already in motion, twisting his stance so he could strike it twice with his glowing sword; the enchantment obviously made all the difference and the weapon cut deep. Black ichor splashed onto the road and the vile creature howled in pain; although it was obviously wounded, the damage did little to deter it and it continued the fight.

Lucas had recovered from the worst of his wounds. He took a step back from the demonic creature, moving to stand behind Orvig for cover. "Uh... maybe we should fall back? A little? Like... now?"

Peter grunted as the twisted outsider fighting him caught him with both of its claw attacks; while the first hit armor, the second drew new rivulets of blood as it tore into his flesh. Forcing it back with a pommel strike from his blade, the Minotaur announced "I don't think they plan on letting us get away."

Orvig did not approve. "Stand fast, sons of Arthur... we cannot allow these hells pawn to defile the world."

Arthur, having focused on keeping Lucas safe, let down his defenses enough that the smallest of the outsiders was successful in getting past them. Both claws struck home and he felt the pain deeply; he knew he wouldn't be able to withstand many more blows as blood began to pour down his hip and thigh. In response, the blacksmith gave ground so he could create a cohesive battle line beside Orvig. He retaliated against the outsider as it chased after him; although his war hammer continued to do far less damage than should have been 'natural', the blow was strong enough to make it pause.

The largest of the fiendish creatures looked straight at the Orc and spoke in Common, its voice full of hidden promises of pain and torture if its command was ignored. "Stand aside, mortal; you block me from my prey."

In response, Orvig settled into a defensive crouch. "Your hunt will come up empty, fiend."

It sneered, and intoned several words of power as it reached out with a clawed hand. Arthur knew little about magic, but he felt a strong tingle of energy gathering as the thing spoke and he wasn't about to let it finish. Swinging with all his might, the Human brought his hammer down on its forearm. The blow did little other than bounce off, but it distracted the thing enough that Peter's likeminded attack found its home as he plunged his sword into its shoulder, creating a fresh flow of ichor to spatter the cobblestones. Whatever magic it had tried was interrupted when it winced, and the spell failed.

A hissing war cry from Arthur's left made him realize that his blow had left him open to an attack from the little outsider but, fortunately, Harold intercepted it, wailing away with his war hammer and his hand axe; although each attack was resisted by the thing's supernatural resilience, the four blows combined forced it to its knees. Orvig stepped past them both, shouting out in the name of Hieroneous; his blade glowed powerfully with silver light and the resulting slash branded the large outsider's chest with holy power, causing it to stumble back in pain.

Arthur and his sons used the opportunity to shore up the battle line as two of the three fiendish creatures. Harold stepped forward and Peter stepped back, creating a solid defense and keeping their horrific foes away from Lucas. The Minotaur lashed out at the outsider nearest him as it tried to close the distance, blade slicing deep with both hits as the thing attacked him without regard for its personal safety.

Peter grunted as the fiendish creature collided with him and it landed one of its blows, gashing open a deep wound along the Minotaur's bicep. Arthur had no time to dwell on the injury as he was forced to help Harold defend against another; he was kicked in the face by the aggressor for his troubles and, with surreal speed, it pounced the Gnoll, claws digging deep into his furry hide before biting him on the side of the head.

Harold cried out in pain, struggling for several seconds before he could finally toss the thing off of him; blood poured down the side of the Gnoll's face, but his gaze quickly slid past the outsiders. "Uh... zombie soldiers are gettin' kinda close!"

Lucas let out a hiss. "I'm on it."

Arthur heard his youngest shuffle around behind him and briefly smelled the scent of sulfur. The Kobold shouted out a word of power and the cold air around them suddenly warmed significantly; a split second later a roaring ball of fire rocketed over his head, lobbed over the heads of the fiends, and landing amidst the shambling undead. Two of them had fallen amidst the grease on the roadway and twitched as they burned; the other two continued limping forward, seemingly oblivious to the fact that they were on fire. The blacksmith was stupefied, but Peter was quick to congratulate. "Wow! Well done, Lucas!"

The Kobold cackled. "HAHA! Burn, undead puppets! Burn!"

The spell was enough to distract the attention of the enemy combatants and Arthur attacked in that moment, striking the fiend that had been harming Harold. The first blow from his warhammer stunned it and he followed up with another, hitting it hard enough that it dissipated in a puff of black smoke; he continued to swing with the power behind the attack until his hammer slammed again into the winged outsider but, as with before, it bounced off harmlessly.

Gazing the promise of death at him, it stepped back and intoned as it had before, only it did so out of the range of any weapons. The magical energy coalesced quickly in a way that Arthur could feel and, when the spell took effect, Arthur felt his muscles seize up for a moment-- and he wasn't even the target. Orvig let out a half-grunt, and he froze in place.

Harold sprang forward, his hammer and axe leading the way. "Just what we need! It uses magic too!"

When his weapons failed to cause it any harm, Peter called to his furred brother. "Get the little one... I'll handle this one."

The larger of the two outsiders simply sneered, brandishing its claws again. Harold huffed. "He's kinda in the way, Pete... I gotta go THROUGH the big ugly one first."

Still forced to handle his opponent alone, Peter struck at it twice; both blows cut deep, causing it to stumble back as a spray of black ichor erupted from its chest. The Minotaur followed after it with his sword leading the way but it quickly recovered, ducking beneath his strike to tear its claws across his abdomen, drawing blood superficially with its off-balanced attack.

Behind him, Arthur heard Lucas call. "Harold-- can you finish off those shamblers?"

Taking his youngest's request to heart, the blacksmith glanced past the fiends and saw that two burning zombies were quickly closing the distance to Harold and the ones that had fallen down were already back on their feet. The Gnoll responded blandly. "Maybe? I could really use some help, though!"

The Kobold jumped on the request immediately, stepping around to Arthur's side since it was free of fiend. "Well okay then!"

Harold glanced over his shoulder as he quickly added "Just wait until I'm out of the--"

Gesturing with a talon, Lucas spoke two words and roared out a third; the sound of the final word alone caused the cobblestone road to shake and a visible distortion in the air outlined a cone of sonic force created by his roar. The two zombies near Harold were literally blown apart while the Gnoll yelped out in pain, shrugging his shoulders in a helpless attempt to protect them from the sound; Arthur didn't miss the blood that poured out of them as a result of being caught up in the effect.

Promising himself to follow up with Lucas later about being mindful to his brother's health (and also the fact that apparently Lucas COULD use magic!!!), Arthur realized that there wasn't time to handle it at that moment and instead joined Peter in facing down the larger of the two remaining outsiders. He launched a series of attacks against it but, as with before, his war hammer was completely useless. Although he didn't manage to harm it, he was successful in interposing himself between it and Lucas.

It sneered at him. "Stand aside, Human. We want the little lizard."

Arthur planted his feet firmly. "No."

It launched forward to attack but the blacksmith stood his ground. Despite being unable to harm the thing with his war hammer it still worked remarkably well at blocking the fiend's attacks and he managed to fend it off long enough for Lucas to fall back. It finally overcame his defenses with an expected attack; it launched a punch right at Arthur's face, and he stumbled in surprise.

The smaller outsider looked as though it was going to take the opportunity to attack the blacksmith, but Peter fended it off with wide swings from his sword. Even as the Minotaur kept the enemy at bay, Arthur heard Lucas say from behind him "Okay, Orc... I don't know who you are, but we need you with us."

The tell-tale tingle of magic being worked along with a two syllable word of power was all the indication that Arthur received that the Kobold was doing anything. A moment later, Orvig stepped around him and brought his sword down on the thing's shoulder. It cried out in pain and quickly stepped back, bringing a hand up as it spoke in its foul language. Arthur realized that it was going to use its magic to paralyze Orvig again and the moment it pointed its hand out, the blacksmith acted; pushing the Orc aside, Arthur felt the magic take hold of him instead, and it was agonizing as every last muscle in his body locked up in a cramp.

An arrow shot past Arthur; Harold had obviously fallen back after his most recent injury, preferring at that point to do battle at range. Although the shot struck true, the arrow snapped when it hit the larger fiend, doing absolutely nothing to it. The blacksmith was locked in place, forced to watch as Peter was engaged by the two remaining zombies; one managed to hit him with its balled up fist and the Minotaur staggered beneath its supernatural strength.

Racing to Peter's aid, Orvig ran by Arthur, sword leading the way as he charged into the winged fiend. His sword blazed with radiant light and it struck true; the profane creature's body was overcome by the silver and gold light, which completely subsumed the blackness. A moment later, the fiendish outsider exploded in holy radiance and was gone from the world completely.

Free from the threat of the twisted, otherworldly being, Peter was able to face off against the remaining two zombies, raising his sword skyward as he shouted out "Hieroneous, give me strength!"

His cry was heard and his blade shone with deific might. He swung it downward in a mighty overhead chop and the first undead creature fell to the ground in two, nearly even pieces. Just behind him and to the side, Lucas stated "Watch out for the last one!"

The Minotaur turned as the final zombie stumbled at him, but the Kobold reacted faster; chanting a word of power, Lucas held out a small talon and four powerful bolts of magic energy crackled across the distance, blowing the decaying flesh apart. The zombie was felled, and the combat had concluded. A moment later, Arthur gasped aloud as his muscles finally relented and the wizardry holding him in place came to an end. Orvig was beside him in an instant. "Not comfortable, I know. Are you alright, Mr Smi-- Arthur?"

The blacksmith nodded, not bothering to hide the satisfaction that the young Lord remembered his request to be spoken of without fanfare. He did the same. "I am fine, Orvig... but Harold's wounds need to be tended."

The Gnoll shuffled forward, holding a paw over a seeping wound in his shoulder as he shouted. "What'd he say!?!"

Wincing at the realization that Harold's ears were still bleeding, Arthur motioned to all of his son's bleeding wounds and slowly said "You need to heal."

Harold shook his head, still shouting. "I'm fine, Dad... just need a minute to sit down and wrap this up."

Orvig nodded. "We are far from done with retaking the keep, but none of us will do any good if we're bleeding out while wandering the halls. If you can manage it, I'd suggest heading into the courtyard; the barracks isn't far and there are healing kits within."

Peter grunted in agreement. "Real bandages would be nice... we only have so many spare clothes to tear up for bindings."

Arthur gave Harold a brief once-over; the Gnoll was practically oblivious to the conversation going on around him. "Probably some needle and thread too."

The blacksmith scowled. "Is he deafened?"

Lucas interjected "It should wear off in a bit."

Orvig rested a gauntleted hand on Harold's uninjured shoulder and gestured as he spoke, pointing to the party then the open gateway. He used each word slowly, allowing the Gnoll to watch what he said. "We should heal in cover-- the first order of business is to make certain the way is clear. There's no telling what awaits us in the courtyard. Here... these should help everyone heal."

With that said, the young knight slung off the traveling satchel he'd been carrying and began passing out small potion bottles. Arthur looked down at the one he was offered. "Curing Potions? This is a surprise-- I thought the alchemist in Hearthbridge had the knowledge to craft them..."

Orvig apparently only had four; he distributed them to Arthur and his sons, leaving none for himself. "Draven does, and Sir Asler was always on good terms with Sir Wasker. We provided him weapons and he provided us with potions."

Harold was finished downing his drink by the time the Orc had finished the explanation; in a matter of seconds the worst of his wounds had stopped bleeding and he looked noticeably better. He also didn't shout when he spoke. "Well... it takes the edge off, but we still need to clean and dress our injuries-- hey! I can hear again. Neat."

Peter set aside his empty potion bottle, stowing it in a pouch at his side. "Once we're inside, brother-- like he said: let's get to the barracks and find the right supplies to get it done."

Lucas gave a quick tug at Arthur's leather apron. "Hey-- Dad! I was inside the keep... it's practically empty. The longer we wait the less likely it'll stay that way."

The blacksmith nodded, reaching down a hand to rest on his youngest's head, letting out a sigh of relief that the Kobold was safe. Something lingering in his mind came to the forefront and he tried to address it without coming off as angry or disapproving. "You were using magic, Lucas..."

Nodding, the reptile took hold of Arthur's hand before he could pull it away, and pushed his scaled head more firmly against the palm. "I'll explain later-- like this guy said, we should get inside..." at which point the Kobold thumbed toward Orvig and paused. "Who IS this guy anyway?"

Arthur answered simply. "This is Orvig Asler. Sir Asler adopted him like I adopted the three of you."

If the blacksmith had expected his youngest to be surprised then he had vastly erred in his perception. The Kobold shrugged. "Oh... okay."

Harold wasn't quite so calm. "Whadda you mean 'oh, okay.', Luke? This is Sir Asler's son! He's an orc! All you gotta say is 'oh, okay.'?"

Lucas turned to regard the Gnoll. "Harold... in case you haven't noticed, I can create balls of fire, magical bolts of energy, and roar loud enough to make your ears bleed-- I'm dealing with a lot of surprises lately, so yeah... when I hear that the local knight adopted an Orc, that on registers as 'oh, okay.' news."

Peter was much more delicate about the situation. Kneeling down to draw himself a little closer to his youngest brother's height, the Minotaur asked "What happened? How did you come by this power?"

The Kobold shrugged. "I'm not sure... but it was something some crazy wizard named Maeryk did to me."

Orvig took notice of the name immediately. "Maeryk the Mad?"

Lucas looked to the Orc. "Yeah... he's the one who summoned those things that attacked Hearthbridge and sacked the keep. He wanted me for my blood-- he said that some Kobolds have little traces in their blood of the same magic that flows through the veins of dragons."

Arthur leaned down to rest a hand on Lucas' shoulder. "Did he hurt you, Lucas? Did he say why he stole you from us?"

The Kobold scowled. "He said it was just the first stop... he's planning something-- something big. As soon as I got a chance I got out of there. I think he's going to use the keep as his home base."

Orvig scowled. "Well... not if I have anything to say about it."

Arthur turned toward the Orc, ready to agree and to offer all the aid that a blacksmith could offer, but his words were drowned out by a loud rumble from the enormous structure in front of them. The walls began to shake and the vibrations carried to them through the ground. Just as the quake was reaching a crechendo, it suddenly stopped and, in the span of a snap of fingers, the keep was gone, leaving only the remnants of the foundation and the below-ground cellar and catacombs behind.

Harold slowly turned to Orvig. "Damn wizards... so what's Plan B?"