From alt.pub.dragons-inn Wed Feb 23 10:25:46 1994 Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn Path: netcom.com!csus.edu!uop!pacbell.com!sgiblab!sgigate.sgi.com!olivea!spool.mu.edu!howland.reston.ans.net!news.ans.net!malgudi.oar.net!sun!vax.cns.muskingum.edu!hsexauer From: hsexauer@vax.cns.muskingum.edu (Rapunzel) Subject: [Legacy] By the fire that burns Message-ID: <1994Feb16.114212.1@vax.cns.muskingum.edu> Lines: 156 Sender: root@sun.cns.muskingum.edu (Operator) Organization: Muskingum College Date: Wed, 16 Feb 1994 16:42:12 GMT It seemed to Aleric that their pace was agonizingly slow over the next several days. That was probably due partly in fact to the mode of transport. It was slow because they had to walk, having lost half the horses. The going was still easy because they had not yet reached the foothills, but the group kept a careful vigilance against night haunts and Shekiren both. Four days passed in nervous travel. The sensation of being watched dogged their steps increasingly. On the evening of the fourth day, everyone was on edge. Aleric had found himself to be increasingly irritable and had begun to withdraw from the amiable banter that existed among his friends. The Lyorn warrior sat off to one side of the company that night with his starstone in his hand. He rolled the blue gem around his palm thoughtfully and stared pensively at the flickers of light reflected from the small fire by his companions. Aleric listened to the voices of his friends without even hearing the words. His mind was blank. With the back of one hand he brushed away a trickle of sweat from his temple. Even this far away from the flames it was too warm. The shifting facets of the blue gem in his palm held his attention. Deep withing the jewel a radiance began to burn. The azure light was joined by a soft green emanation somewhere on Aleric's chest. Something was significant about that.... but at the moment Aleric's mind was clouded and he was not paying attention to the warnings. There was a burning pain in his shoulder. The heat of the fire pushed at him incessantly, heating his skin. A faint motion to his left caught his eye momentarily. A streak of dark grey and a blurry spot of white above it. But as it faded from his view a second later the Lyorn had already begun to forget it. Nevertheless, a part somewhere far back in his mind was screaming... something. But the haze that held his mind in thrall pushed it away and restored peace to his thoughts. Fortunately for the group's sake, Aleric was not the only one to notice the figure quickly closing on the camp. The stocky valeman saw the Shekiren gliding in and cried warning in time for the company to equip themselves. The Shekiren was upon them in the next instant. The one concern that faced them immediately was preventing the Shekiren from touching their skin. Durstrin was the first to contact the enemy in the attack. The pale creature carried a slim sword that he used only to counter the blows directed at him. In his left hand he held an incandescently bright globe of pure energy. The elf had drawn his sword and swung a blow at the Shekiren's left side. The Shekiren blocked the stroke easily and threw the globe at Durstrin with his other hand. The elf ducked with lightning speed allowing the globe to pass over his head and strike a tree behind with a soundless explosion. Light shattered and flew in all directions, together with charred bits of bark and wood. While Durstrin occupied the Shekiren's attention, Ruel swung his axe at the dark one's legs while Kieriah circled right, watching for an opportunity to strike. The Sundered One seemed to have no trouble keeping track of three opponents at once; in fact he was a superb fighter and strategist. He was starting to give them some trouble holding him at bay. The Shekiren seemed to be almost absently repelling their assault with both sword and fire while he searched for something. The black eyes raked the company settling first on Elcoran's prone form. Tierge stood over the elven lad ready to protect him with her magic if the Shekiren got that far. The eyes swept on to light on Jaerodyn where he stood on the edge of the localized battle with blade unsheathed. His blue eyes were intently studying for a weakness and ready to join the fight. Aleric was slowly brushing aside the haze in his mind and becoming aware of the situation. He staggered over to stand, swaying, behind his brother. The black eyes fixed on the two golden haired warriors that looked so much alike. The Shekiren, having found his target, increased his efforts. He threw three fireballs in rapid succession backing Ruel off while suddenly swinging his sword at Durstrin's head. Instead of aiming with the blade, the Shekiren reversed his thrust and struck the elf's temple with the steel hilt, temporarily sending him into oblivion. Kieriah, who had closed in behind the dark one, plunged a dagger into his back high near the neck. Hardly slowing, it tossed a new volley of fire at the valeman and the Lyorn girl, then made a lunge for the brothers. Jaerodyn dropped into a fighter's crouch to defend himself. Strangely, the Shekiren held no fireballs ready to hurl at the young Lyorn, but held the hand outstretched ready to grab. The battle between the two quickly became intense. The Shekiren had already proved how efficient his style was, but all quickly saw that Jaerodyn easily was the match for the Shekiren. Ruel and Kieriah had to stand back and wait lest their efforts to help hinder their friend. Aleric, unable to wield Xel'ha, had drawn his daggers at the outset and held them ready, though only his left hand could do any damage. He too recognized the grim nature of the fight and the need to hang back. But he stayed prepared to aid his younger brother as necessary. At times, the dark one seemed confused as to whether he wanted to kill his opponent or grapple with him. The black eyes flashed back and forth between the two brothers as if in decision. The graceful dance the combatants followed endured endlessly with neither appearing to tire. But the beads of perspiration that glistened on Jaerodyn's brow gave evidence of the tremendous effort he was making. The pale form of the Shekiren gave no sign of effort, nor did the hatred that suffused his features change. Two minutes later the Shekiren generated another globe of power, but instead of hurling it at Jaerodyn he threw it to the ground behind him. Jaerodyn suddenly stumbled backward into the hole the globe had opened in the earth. He tumbled onto his back with a kick from the dark one and his sword flew wide when the Shekiren knocked it loose from his hand. While the younger Lyorn was down the Shekiren whirled to face the elder. Despite his injurt, Aleric was still a formiddable warrior. He used his two blades as cutting and blocking tools, though his left arm had to strain to give power to the blocks. His other handicap was the miasma that hung before his eyes. The haze in his mind fogged his instincts and sent bursts of light to blur his vision. Aleric's situation became desperate as the Shekiren pressed him harder. Jaerodyn, meanwhile, had not been idle once being released from the fight. In the minute it took him to recover Kieriah had jerked Xel'ha from the packs where it had been kept for the past days. She tossed it to Jaerodyn who plucked it easily out of the air. Its great length shimmered in the firelight, but with nothing more than the reflected light. The cold steel hilt fit comfortably in his hand as he moved to rescue his brother from the Shekiren. The enemy, silent until now, snarled in rage upon seeing the blade. But until he could disengage from Aleric, he couldn't deal with the new threat. The Shekiren's hand darted out to slap Aleric's face and transfer the deadly evil directly to his head. Seeing his danger, Aleric ducked his head and turned slightly allowing the hand to descend brutally on his wounded shoulder. The Lyorn screamed in pain but stood his ground. However the Shekiren's purpose was served and he used Aleric's temporart inability to attack to disengage and face Jaerodyn. It did not launch an assault immediately, but guardedly saluted the young man. "Now you will give me your life. Then the power of Xel'ha and your own shall be ours, Nilsangehir. You shall _become_ one of us," he rasped in the hoarse voice. "Not a chance, Shekiren," Jaerodyn shouted in defiance. He lifted Xel'ha, who burdened him no more than Aleric, and struck at the enemy. They resumed their deadly dance, with each strike and counterstrike as smooth and easy as a thought. But the Shekiren's strategy had changed. He no longer struck to kill, but to disable long enough to touch the young Lyorn and infect him. For long minutes the fight continued with Jaerodyn taking every opportunity to wound his foe. Long, bloodless gashes were opened in the Sundered One's body, but they did not disable him in any way. Kieriah's dagger was even still protruding from his back. Finally, Jaerodyn swung at the enemy's legs and Xel'ha bit into a knee, partially severing the leg. The Shekiren crumpled to the ground, but still defended himself. Jaerodyn could do nothing to kill the Shekiren with Xel'ha, it was not his to wield. Aleric understood the predicament. He came to shadow his brother as he continued to cut at the dark one. At last, when there was a tiny opening, Aleric reached around Jaerodyn's hand with his right hand and grasped Xel'ha's hilt just above Jaerodyn's hand at the crosspiece. The fiery blade burst into life with Nilsangehir's touch and influence. The Shekiren cried out a hoarse, despairing wail as he saw the blade descending. Guided by Jaerodyn's strength and powered by Aleric's touch, Xel'ha cut a burning path to where the Shekiren's heart should be. The Shekiren shrieked in a high and inhuman tone. Xel'ha's light washed over the pale body and shone brightly, slowly fading away as the shriek died with it. When the light faded entirely all looked upon the face of the Lyorn that once was. His eyes were grateful in death, thankful for his release. But the body was fast drying out into the dessicated husk of a man centuries dead. Perhaps, that was as it truly had been. -- Heather Sexauer Muskingum College hsexauer@muskingum.edu "We'll never survive....." "Nonsense. You're only saying that because no one ever has." -- Princess Bride