Date: Thursday, 29 Jul 1993 11:55:04 EDT
From: Michael Sander <344LWKC@CMUVM.CSV.CMICH.EDU>
Message-ID: <93210.115504344LWKC@CMUVM.CSV.CMICH.EDU>
Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
Subject: [BBD] An Image of You

[ADMIN: Another of the individual battles, this one posted for Stilt Man.
 We're almost getting to the end...]

Time had continued on, past the time where Kryalla and the illusion of
Darvos fought off the daemons as best they could, keeping them away
from the other companions, particularly Kaalzic, who seemed to need the
defensive help...

Kryalla had her problems, yes, but things were not totally out of hand.
She would have liked to see how the others were faring, but the Thurlan
gnawing at her cloak had the Shrouded One's full attention at the moment.

Flames from the Thurlan's maw leapt the length of the ebon Shroud, but the
defensive spells on the garment were quite strong enough to avoid any worry.
The claws that reached for her heart were much more important, however.  Her
right arm was trapped in the creature's grip, her katana was on the ground
next to her.  Her left hand reached for it, finally getting hold of it.  She
turned back to the daemon with vengeance in her eyes.  The creature, seeing
she was armed again, stood back from her.  Abruptly, something in its core
began painfully drawing the daemon's attention, although Kryalla's weapon
had not yet struck . . .

The Thurlan fell, its carapace already decaying into sickening slime when it
struck the ground.  Kryalla gathered her surroundings into her awareness.
The war-mage who had lead the strike still watched from a distance with grim
satisfaction.  Pars and Tarkyn were facing off, each holding the other's
full attention.  Darvos was having troubles with Velric and his shades, but
was holding his own well enough.  She had lost track of Lancos in the
excitement, but the clang of swords on swords and the insane shouts of Gutt
Man seemed to indicate both were occupied elsewhere, outside her immediate
view.

The war-mage, she assumed, must be this BBD.  No proof beyond the man's
behavior, but it seemed likely.  He raised his arms, pointing a strong hand
at Darvos, and a bolt of lightning assailed the vampire-hunter's defenses,
stressing his battle all the more.  Too, BBD turned to Arienne, and a puddle
suddenly appeared beneath one foot to slip her traction, throwing her off
balance.  Only a quick recovery saved her from instant death at the much-
transformed Yosef's claws.  Kryalla made her decision quickly; while BBD
was left alone, he could influence all the battles going on with impunity.

BBD looked up from the fracas when a shadow fell across him, and was only
barely able to raise his wards to shield him from the talons of the black
eagle, fully the size of a man, that descended upon him suddenly.  When he
regained his wits, he saw the great bird of prey circling around for a second
pass.  He had seen Kryalla Simuel before, unencumbered after destroying the
Thurlan with her magic, and did not see her now.  He knew who he faced.

The black bird came down for a second strike, but when she reached her target,
he no longer stood there.  He flew also, in the shape of an encarmined
vulture, fully her equal in size.  The crimson fluid nearly covered the
creature, as if it had just fed upon a large piece of carrion.

The battle in the air betwixt the two shape-shifted magi carried them away
from the fray happening on the ground and outside the house, and the others
were too busy to notice the absence.  The two birds clawed and pecked at each
other, the eagle striking swiftly and staying carefully out of reach of the
vulture's claws, not a single drop of her blood adding to the gore covering
the vulture.  Yet the blood shed by the vulture did not seem to weaken it, but
strengthen it.  Too late, she realized that the blood was his strength, not
his weakness.

On the next pass, the eagle swerved away from the vulture, not striking with
claws but with a blast of blue flame called from its mystical lungs, doing
little damage against the blood-soaked vulture's hide.  However, the juices on
his feathers began to dry under this heat, and he realized that the eagle was
no longer fooled by his tactic.  The vulture looked about for a place to land
and continue the battle elsewhere.  An empty alley presented itself, and the
vulture made its way downward.

However, its going was not to be so easy.  The eagle dove upon him, causing
him to lose control of his flight, striking one of the wings and sending him
to the alleyway.  The carrion bird tumbled upside-down, his left wing broken,
and fell to the earth.  His opponent glided gracefully to the ground nearby,
resuming her true shape as she landed.  The vulture groaned in agony as he
resumed his true shape, the injured wing/arm not taking well to the
transformation when broken.  He placed his other hand upon the break, felt
the bones knit swiftly under the healing magic.  The moment it was done, his
hand went to his scabbard, and his rune-scribed sword was free.

Kryalla looked about.  None saw them here.  The katana was free of its own
scabbard, she set in a ready position.  BBD held his sword aloft; he wasn't
certain where she would strike from first, so he held his blade loosely,
looking deceptively unprepared.  In one motion, the Shrouded One moved; the
katana feinted high before descending at his injured left arm with both hands
firm on its hilt.  BBD saw the feint, moved to block the second strike, and
was struck solidly by a crimson blast of energy coming from his right side.
His shields barely held, and his balance was thrown off.  His eyes looked
about carefully, seeking to see that which naked eyes could not see.  The
being before him was an illusion, he saw that now.  He inwardly admired her
skill in executing the complex sword motion with the simulacrum at the same
time she prepared the true strike with the mystical lance.  But he could not
allow this to happen often, or he was dead on his feet.

Simple solution.  He held his sword at his side, keeping still.  His ears
heard the scrape of a boot on cobblestones ahead, to his left.  He turned to
the spot, and sent lightning lashing out to cook the source of the sound.
The illusion broke under the strike, and the true Shrouded One appeared,
holding her cloak before her, using its protection.  The lightning struck the
ebon cloth harmlessly, diffusing into sparks on the fabric.  Kryalla's eyes
narrowed, the duplicate that had made the first feint vanished.  BBD smiled
in the satisfaction of having outwitted her on this second exchange.

Kryalla spun in place, and a fiery shuriken left her hand, hurtling at his
head.  Reflexively, he ducked, thus leaving him off balance to dodge the
second one, aimed at his right ankle.  His shields held again, but his nerves
were on edge from the confusing attacks.  She shifted the katana to her left
hand, holding her right out.  Instinctively, he tightened the hold of his
shields, only to see her lash out left-handed with the blade, its light blue
glow betraying its magic.  His stiffened shields were butter for the hot
knife of her katana blade, and he saw in the flow of magic about the weapon
that it had been specially crafted to slice through such defenses.  The
moment the hole in his shield had been carved, a second mystical blast came
at him, striking him full in his chest.  He gasped, fearing death.  The beam
of light burst, exploding into a brilliant kaleidoscope of corruscating
energy, doing no physical harm whatsoever.  Spots danced before his eyes, the
dazzling patterns of light touched off something in his mind.  He was swamped
in vertigo, and his mind was wrapped in confusion, little of it magical.  Her
tactics were crazily unorthodoz, and it was difficult to adjust.  Blindly, he
swung about with his sword at his unseen foe, hoping to at least keep her at a
distance while he readied his counterspells for her next strike.  Flailing
around, he dug his rune-lettered blade into the side of the building in his
blindness, imprisoning it tightly in stone.

Kryalla did not smile, allowing herself no room for premature truimphant
self-assurance.  She kept respectfully away from the obviously-magical sword
that swung around wildly in an effort to strike her.  She held back until he
accidently buried his blade in the wall of the house, and abandoned it.  She
moved in at that time for the kill.

A sudden explosion of blue flame, unexpected, leaving no time for her to cover
herself with her cloak, burst from every pore of his body.  It was not a
suicide move, she saw, for he was left unharmed, but the forced of the blast
hurled her away from him, her body hitting hard on the side of the building
opposite the alley from him.  Regrouping, she cursed herself for falling for
his trick of playing possum.

At this point, some vestige of BBD's natural sight began to return, enough to
make out the dark shape of the Shrouded One apart from the white shapes that
danced about in his mind.  A second bolt of lightning darted from his
outstretched finger to follow up the first attack, and this time only part of
it hit the cloak.  The rest coursed through her body, her innate defenses
dealing with some, but not enough to avoid a great deal of pain from the
powerful strike.  Kryalla noticed he had little artfulness in his direct
battle tactics, but the raw power he commanded was sufficient to keep his
ground.

Groggily, she got to her feet.  The war-mage still walked with unsure steps,
but he would be ready to fight as well as ever ere long.  Kryalls looked
about, and could not find her katana.  No time to look for it now.  Full
awareness returned to BBD's features.  He traced runes in the air, and
something gripped at her mind.  His features twisted in astonishment and fury
when she kept walking.  Apparently he did not expect that the cloak's hood
shielded her from such mental magic as the rest of it did from physical
strikes.  'How to defeat her, then?' he asked himself.

A greem beam hit the cloak, an attack of simple concussive force.  It knocked
her back, but not off her feet.  His eyes narrowed in rage; most other he had
used it against had been splattered across the countryside by it.  He examined
her closely, saw that she had no weapon.  Maximizing his mystical protections,
he lunged at her.  In her grogginess, she could not avoid his charge.

"Let's see you cloak prevent me from snapping your slender neck, wench!" he
growled through clenched teeth, his hands clasping about her throat as he fell
atop her to the ground.  In response, her leg thrust up between his, not to
strike but to push.  He found himself falling over forward, and she slipped
from beneath him and back to her feet.  His eyes glared murderously at her,
but saw that she had a better grasp of her movements now.  Blue flames
surrounded his fists, and her cloak could not keep them from striking at her
ivory-skinned face.  The flames sputtered a bit, but enough of them remained
to enhance the pain of his blow.  A second blast of fire struck her in the
chestbone, singeing the black leather beneath the cloak, making it a duller
ebon in color.  When the third strike passed right through her, he immediately
pulled back and raised his shields again to deflect the attack from the true
being opposing him.  Though he had recognized the illusion before him faster
this time, he was forced to again concede her skill in substituting the image
for herself so speedily.

The flare of white fire that struck him clean on the body went through the
shield.  With a shock, he realized that the image before him had launched
this attack!  Not illusion, but intangibility.  This was the pure elemental
flame, rather than the earthly corruption.  It burned at his soul as well as
body, particularly the empty sould that went hand-in-hand with evil ways.
Agony twisted his features, but she seemed too slow herself to follow up the
strike.  He beckoned, and his sword freed itself from the wall, hurtling to
his grasp.  He gripped it firmly in hand, swinging it for the abdomen that was
not covered by cloak.  Again, the attack passed through her.  Not knowing now
what to assume, he blindly cast a counterspell, without caring where the
attack would come from.

It worked.  The white flame guttered and went out when Kryalla attempted to
strike him with it once more.  But the sudden flash of the failed attack
announced her appearance to the world, and with all his might he conjured a
gigantic chest of energy, its lid opening to swallow her within and imprison
her.  The chest closed over the spot whence the flame had come, and BBD
relaxed, feeling he had her at last, and planning to make her his slave.

No!  A crimson blast of energy struck him from behind.  The flame had been
the second feint this time, conjured with the intention to fail.  With an
incoherent roar of fury, BBD lashed out with the blue flame explosion a
second time, and a cry of pain and surprise came whence the third strike had
been launched.  BBD turned, to find Kryalla lying, blackened and charred, on
the ground.  He stood over her.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Michael Sander
344lwkc@cmuvm.csv.cmich.edu