A Bloody Fight

DATE: IMMORTAL REIGN 1023 MONTH 5 DAY 29

Except for the few templars patrolling in trios, the invaders encountered no resistance as they marched towards the church. With Ruxian providing constant monitoring and communication, the Dracons picked them off with ease. In most cases, the victims failed to even raise their weapons before drowning in their own blood.

You were right, Dramien. Ruxian reported as he switched between a few of his probes. Lucius is indeed hiding behind a wall of hammers.

“Should I bait them out?” offered Naya. “They aren’t much of a challenge with your help.”

Ruxian kneaded a devious smile out of his form. March straight and enjoy my show.

Toying with her garash as she went, Naya led them towards the church courtyard teeming with templars. Her horns tingled, dissipating a salvo of incoming spells. Shrugging, Naya held up a severed head and ran a finger across her neck.

“You’re making the right choice,” taunted Naya. “Your friend here chose wrong.”

Naya tossed her trophy aside and danced away from a flying hammer. The deafening impact, hurling up a wall of debris, left a crater large enough to trap wagons. Though she beckoned the templars to try again, Naya fell back. If she was to die in battle, she’d rather her remains not return to Mogravale a mangled mess.

“Demon harlot,” roared a templar. “Charge!”

A sonorous clang rang out from the Targonian ranks. A body went into air, hitting the ground with a wet splat. It was a templar swinging at his own. Before they could comprehend the situation, fiery explosions ripped through the grounds, filling the air with pained screams and the scent of charred flesh.

“Now!”

Lyrica led her sisters in a spirited charge, their garash weaving a wall of steel against the straggling defenders. Caught between traitors and the enemy, the indecisive templars fell quickly. The young man who led the charge, however, emerged unscathed. Instead of retreating against the whirring chain and blades, he picked up another hammer from his fallen comrade.

“Gwain Harvale,” said the man. “My hammer purges evil, even if it manifests itself in the female shape.”

Naya bristled at the name. “A hunter.”

“Harvale,” Lyrica snarled. “No man with that name escapes the Blackmoon Sorority.”

Dramien shot out from the flanks and unleashed a red flurry. Within an instant, their weapons clashed countless times, sounding a hasty and frenetic rhythm. Having steadied his footing, Gwain parried and countered at the same time, narrowly missing Dramien with a blow that shook the earth. Not waiting for Dramien to engage, the templar kicked another dropped hammer at Dramien, the stray projectile tearing out a corner of a house.

“Captain Gilverman,” Gwain shouted. “Your betrayal has placed General Balethorn under house arrest. That can’t be what you wanted.”

“Then Targonia has merely betrayed me again,” replied Dramien, levelling his spear.

“Sister Susie,” appealed Gwain. “Archbishop Arplis spoke highly of your skills and devotion. You’re one of the few holy women who underwent templar training. Capture the wraith and I shall hammer out your pardon.”

Susie enlarged her scissors. “I will not return to slavery.”

“Very well then,” Gwain concluded, batting away a hail of garash slashes. “Just two more heretics to purge.”

Though a diminutive man compared to Dramien, Gwain juggled his weapons like bowling pins. He overpowered Lyrica, danced circles around Naya, and matched Dramien blow for blow. Besieged from all sides, he still found time to fling a hammer at Ruxian, forcing the hypnotist to flee.

Naya. Ruxian made an urgent call as he passed through several houses. Stop fighting him head on and dispel this man. With his ghostly vision, Gwain was a glitter ball of magic. Hurry, I’ve lost most of my agents. Even as he transmitted his message, the battle outside the church gates had gone quiet.

“Stand still against this guy?” Naya screeched into her wisp. “You trying to kill me?”

“Allow me.”

Susie leapt into the fray, knees buckling as she parried a blow for Naya. Gwain swung again only to find the nun standing her ground. With this interchange, Naya faded into the air and took refuge inside a damaged residence. She clasped her sore hands together and began channelling her horns.

Naya, down!

Naya threw herself onto the floor just as another hammer flew in her direction. Coughing from the shower of dust, she scrambled further back with an optimistic and mischievous curve on her lips.

“Keep that hunter busy,” Naya shouted. “Pressure him enough, and his shield will break.”

“Sisters, fall back and aid Pigslayer,” Lyrica cried, waving her arms. “We must gift his head to Mother Blackmoon!”

Reinforcements spilled out of the church. Suppressing his magic signature and shrinking to the size of an orange, Ruxian crept forward, praying that the templars would not detect him in the heat of battle. Having yet to develop remote mind control, Ruxian found himself within swinging distance of the shining hammers. He singled out a mage in the back ranks, unleashing a psychic scalpel, breaking through the defences with a crisp pop. Unlike Lucius, it seemed the ordinary men of the clergy had no answer for his surprise cerebral invasion. 

Those hammers will mince you. Ruxian sent his demonic urgings. You know what to do.

Ruxian skulked back into obscurity, leaving behind him an orchestrated carnage. He needed rest. With his thoughts slowed, the incoming sounds and images became a kaleidoscope of incomprehensible noise. He dared not rise over the buildings, which would surely attract another hammer toss from Gwain. For now, he tucked his sluggish body into a corner, waiting for his mind to catch up.

He summoned one of his probes overlooking the church. The mage he hypnotised was a charred corpse. Before going down, however, this unwilling collaborator had torn two men apart and left even more crawling for safety. Above all, this mutiny had the templars huddling behind houses and ruins. Dramien was right. There was nothing more toxic than uncertain loyalties.

If Gwain previously shone like the sun, he was now a waning moon. While still strong and nimble, he seemed mortal now. Unable to dance around the assault, red blotches stained his white habit. Though he still swung twin hammers, they no longer exploded like artillery fire upon the slightest contact.

The three-way pincer between Dramien, Susie, and Lyrica covered Gwain in blood and sweat. They were the Komodo dragon stalking the buffalo, inflicting a slow death of a thousand cuts. Susie, stalking his right flank, chopped at his shin as Lyrica coiled her garash around his arm. Leaping over the scissors and yanking free his weapon, Gwain half-parried a thrust from Dramien. The demonic spear slipped, slicing open the small of his arm, spraying an unusual amount of red for what should’ve been a minor cut.

“I am just,” Gwain murmured with the fervour of a wounded beast. “I am devout. I am a hammer that breaks heresy. I am a templar of Targonia!”

With a frenzied battle cry, he hurled a hammer at Susie. The nun screamed as the glancing blow snapped her scissors and slammed her into a wall. Catching a garash blade with his shoulder blades, Gwain roared away the pain and swung at Lyrica, his errant attack finding her legs. Stumbling forth, he lifted his weapon once more, preparing a finishing blow on the crippled woman when a wet squelch stopped him.

Dropping his hammer with a loud bang, Gwain stared down. Blood rose up his throat, spurring out of his nose and mouth. It was a spear protruding from his chest. He didn’t remember falling, but when he next opened his eyes, he was staring at the ground. He reached for his weapon but could not muster the strength to even form a grip. Breathing became impossible. Sputtering, his body went limp.

Naya sprinted over to Lyrica and screamed for the other Blackmoons. The disfigured legs left the smaller Dracon fighting back tears. Flaring her nostril, Naya wiped her eyes. No matriarch of the Blackmoon Sorority would cry in battle. An unsteady Susie joined Naya as blood from her forehead trickled down her habit, staining her collar. Kneeling down, she placed a hand on the broken limb.

“This is beyond my powers,” said Susie weakly, clutching her head. “But I can ease her pain a little. We’ll leave with your sisters.”

See to your wounds. The gravitas of the situation threatened to drag Ruxian into the ground. We will finish it from here.

“Agreed, Lord Ruxian,” said Dramien. “We’ve won.”