Index:
Episode 1 - The League of Iron assembles
Episode 3 - Legacy of the Veil Breakers
Episode 7 - Home is where the hearth is
Episode 8 - Last of the Old Ones
Episode 12 - Mistress of Flesh
Episode 15 - March of the parasites
Episode 16 - Shadows in the Fog
Episode 18 - Kingdom of hunger
Ardor.
If one would state that the outcome of a battle weighed heavily upon experience, skill, and the quality of arms, they'd be correct. However, there were other factors, often unseen or ignored by those not of warrior descent. Lord Luck played his unfathomable games and when his silvery dice favored thee, there was nigh a feat impossible, or foe unconquerable.
The riddle of steel could be solved, yet the mortal soul remained an enigma. Those of strong spirit could oftentimes wrest victory from the jaws of defeat. Fight and win while suffering wounds, endure terrible sicknesses, body whipped by hunger and blood drained by thirst. When soul overcame the limitations of flesh, 'twas a sight to see... a fight to remember.
Quivering stone and shaking wall joined hands, but to disturb the two warriors' statue-like stances, they could not. Among the chaos of falling ceilings, the life-ending flight of arrows and magicks, Knight and Overlord faced each other in complete stillness. Not a word escaped their lips, as two pairs of eyes studied each other, they measured their breaths.
Inconsequential in a duel like this, the Lord of all Thulm spotted a longish dagger sheathed on the Knight's belt and smirked with glee. The Overlord had a shield; sturdy, this bulwark did not just bar blows, it was a weapon of its own right. However, the Knight's longsword gave his wielder the reach advantage over the mighty bearded axe.
Ready to change grip and stance at a moments notice, the heavily armored warriors bid their breath, waiting for a chance.
Those who listened to tales of bloody battles or read the bulky tomes of ages past, their faces alit with candle light, they oft fell prey to quill and tongue. Storytellers did indeed embellish or, in some cases, cut some events to achieve the best possible dramatic effect. Yet, in their elaborate wordcraft, these tellers of stories most gripping, they nigh always omitted the boring part.
Duels between masterful warriors often lasted a few minutes, mere breaths, if these were experienced opponents. One misstep or a single, miscalculated strike, and those who erred fell on the ground dead or dying. Only the most inept or supremely powerful could exchange blows while having suffered brutal wounds, their fight prolonged far beyond what was normal.
Suddenly, there was a stone barreling down toward the Knight's head and, with a measured step, the Neldaeiri evaded it. A half-breath during his sidestep, the warrior was immediately assailed by the Overlord. Not with an axe, instead the Lord of all Thulm focused a wave of his psionic powers, which slammed into the Knight without fail.
Writhing in ways most unnatural for the Overlord to behold, the Neldaeiri armor's black paint became aglow with a mesh of interwoven silvery shapes. Those glittered, revealing an intricate pattern covering the Knight's full plate armor from head to toe. Though, the Thulm could not marvel much at it, for his opponent swiftly ceased this opportunity.
Another half-step to change his stance and the Knight lunged forth, using every bit of his advantage in reach. Mighty shield raised to block and his own axe hand ready to riposte, the Overlord was stunned to witness that his enemy switched his grip mid-step. Instead of stabbing or slashing, he'd grabbed the blade of his longsword with his sturdy armored gloves, and, utilizing his pointy guard, managed to reach behind the shield.
Hit in the wrist part of his glove, the Overlord barely escaped the fate of being disarmed by using every bit of his monstrous Thulm strength. Yet, the breath he pulled away, a stone fell upon his shoulder; the boulder's massive weight causing him not a wee bit of pain. In his stead the Overlord swung mightily, intent on splitting the Knight's helmet with one blow.
Intent was one thing, the end result, another.
Left glove holding the tip of his sword, the Knight grabbed its handle with his right and was able to angle the blade, glancing off the brutal strike. The Overlord followed up and managed to land a sweeping attack with the edge of his shield. Hit straight in the chestplate, the Neldaeiri was pushed aback, lest only by a foot.
The two armor-clad warriors circled, steps careful and senses focused.
Again, the Overlord cerebrated another psionic charge and, again, the Knight's darkened armor rebuked it.
“I knew not Neldaeiri knights were so furtive!” - Spat out the Overlord, as he readied himself for a brutal shield bash.
“Nor shall thee have time to learn.” - Calm, the Knight retorted without sacrificing much of his precious breath.
Hands gripping the handle of his longsword, the ruby on its pommel gleaming ominously, the Knight attacked. It wasn't that he aimed to outright cleave through bone-forged, magickally strengthened Thulm armor, no. Instead, he aimed where there wasn't one – at the chain mail links made from red-iron. Just like the Neldaeiri's own armored suit, flexible bits of chain mail protected the Overlord's armpits, neck, groin, and at the knee bends.
With a series of swift, fan-like swipes and stabs of his sword, most of which were either blocked by shield, sidestepped, or parried, the Knight made his opponent weary. Instead of some foolhardy assault which could've cost him life or limb, the Overlord was threatened and with little waste of motion. But one of these beautiful to behold, perfectly executed fan swipes connected, the olden blade painfully bruising Thulm flesh; right armpit hurt, now 'twas extra hard to raise the shield high.
The Overlord felt deep pain and, for the first time in a decade, grinned, forked tongue licking his two rows of black teeth. Eyes of yellow threw one glance at the brutal, efficient battleaxe, the weapon which helped him entomb many a skeleton into the walls of this very Tower.
To cleave limbs, separate heads from their bodies, bone, cartilage, flesh, and all, those who bone-forged the Overlord's mighty weapon spared no expense, nor material. Handle made of a femur bone and ax head, two scapula bones, everything had been melded by high-quality red-iron.
Thin, yet heavy was the Thulm axe head, made exactly for such a fight!
Not one to remain on the defense, nor an impulsive combatant, the Lord of all Thulm changed his stance. Shield arm extended a bit forward, so he could swiftly react and block or glance the longsword, he'd hid his axe behind the shield. Feet steady, the Overlord advanced and each step of his was paired with a devastatingly quick axe swipe.
'Twas a torrent of strikes and had more than a few landed, the Neldaeiri armor would bend, mayhap even crack open. Hit he was and twice, yet he moved his body aptly, so that even the excellent Thulm weapon would glance off his armor. Bent was the left pauldron and the side of his cuirass, which caused the Neldaeiri much pain. No blood dripped on the quivering floor, however, and, most of his strength still intact, the man fought on.
“You must've realized, Alkiornian, that by coming here you will die.” - Hissed the Lord of all Thulm, noting the deceptive tactics of his Hag with a smirk.
“I live for others.” - Said the Knight with leveled breath - “I die for others.”
The Tower had been quaking mightily, yet his ears picked up the Dwarven song; he heard how Thulm Bone Raiders fell one after the other. The Knight was well aware that his companions did their duty and then some. He needn't worry about what was occurring behind, for if someone struk him in the back, then everything was already lost.
His faith in them was such, that not one thought was wasted, and not a single worry wriggled its way inside his head.
Experienced for his young age, the Knight rolled aback from his opponent's last blow. Leaping back to his feet and sword gripped with both hands, the Neldaeiri delivered a devastating overhead strike. With supreme concentration and haste since he'd just felt the Sorceress release her barely controllable magick, he swung.
However, his goal wasn't exactly what the Overlord had assumed. Instead of going for the vulnerable chain mail hauberk, which protected his opponent's neck, the Knight's longsword veered off. Not quite able to raise the shield so high because of the wound he'd suffered a few breaths ago, the Overlord did as best as he could and would've handily glanced the blow, yet...
Instead of the tip, the Thulm-made helm was slapped with the flat of the blade!
Hit in the side of his helmet and with sufficient power, the Thulm found his head ringing. He'd immediately swiped with the axe, landing a few glancing, painful hits upon his enemy, yet the Knight kept moving. Fleet of foot, despite the fatigue he carried from all battles so far, the Neldaeiri sidestepped and yes, he kept swinging.
Screaming inside his powerful mind, the Overlord delivered more psionic strikes, focusing them where the Knight's armor suffered damage. His opponent bled, he winced in much pain, as some of his lifeblood ebbed through old wounds sewn by skilled hand. Finally, having touched his flesh with psionic might, the master of all Thulm was able to feel his emotion.
He clenched his black teeth with such hatred that he chipped many of them, for the Knight's heart was a bastion! Walls of thick resolve protected his mind, stones made of happy memories and battle tested mettle, all shining with honor bound duty. The sanctity of one which his enemy knew of, and was reciprocated many a time by loyal ally.
Immediately changing his tactics, the Overlord employed what focus he had left and pulled many a falling boulder with his psionics. These would not change their direction when they fell, yet he could steal some of their kinetic energy and force it straight upon the enemy.
Slammed over and over, many other Alkiornian warriors would relent, but not this one!
Though not every single longsword swipe hit, enough found the intended target. Swiftly, because the Sorceress basked everyone within this throne room with her devastating power, the Knight did what he'd been planning since his first exchange of blows.
Bent, the hallowed for all Thulm thirteen spiked crown, shattered.
His nose and ears bleeding, the otherwise quite sensible Overlord became enraged.
Yellow eyes aglow with blackish light, he witnessed the last vestige of Thulm power clangor in pieces on the broken floor.
Spitting blood and yellow eyes dimmed, the Overlord could no longer hold the shield. With a move quite swift, he threw it at the Knight, who was forced to evade. Employing all of his considerable skill, he delivered an underhanded axe swing, designed to crush his enemy's neck.
He wouldn't leave his Hag to die, nor be crushed under the rubble himself.
Once again, the Knight read his movement and directed a swipe of his own, intent on blocking the mighty axe. The two weapons left swirling energies behind them as they moved towards a most fateful meeting. Longsword blade all gray and Thulm bone-forged axe, yellow, the two clashed with such a clangor and force, that even their wielders were aghast.
Glow-steel, the blade did not shatter, but flew out of the Knight's armored hands, only to land near the Ranger. As if the hairs of Alkiornian warriors rebelled against the Overlord's power, the axe's rope snapped and his weapon swirled away, twisting his wrist in the process.
“You are nothing without your sword!” - Grumbled the Overlord, and delivered a brutal fist straight to the Knight's neck.
“And you are nothing to begin with.” - Retorted the reeling Knight, and immediately engaged in grapple.
It quickly became apparent that the Alkiornian had suffered a dislocated shoulder when the two weapons collided. Nevertheless, and with great skill, he was able to maneuver himself into a better position, while suffering a number of devastating blows and kicks.
Monstrous, the strength of the Thulm would eventually gain him the upper hand. Each blow further bent the Knight's armor, knees and elbows shook him, and the kicks moved his entire body. The Overlord could hear raspy instead of calm breathing, his psionics felt bleeding both internal and external, and he happily devoured his own terrible pain for victory's sake.
The quaking Tower tilted, sending both warriors sliding on the cracked, littered with stone and other debris floor.
“Why prolong... wheeze... the inevitable?” - Shouted the Overlord, as his hand punched the Knight's dislocated shoulder.
They rolled over some stones and incidentally towards the shining with barely checked power Sorceress, before the Alkiornian could answer.
“Because I have... cough... many to fight for.”
Again, they rolled, and this time the Overlord seized an opening. With all his remaining strength, he elbowed the side of the Knight's pauldron. A Thulm knew the bones of his enemies like the faces of his slaves, and if he hit a dislocated shoulder properly, the joint would shatter. It would be a few breaths later when he snapped the armored warrior's neck, crushing the vertebrae with his legs.
The Knight angled his body in the last possible breath. Hit, instead of breaking, his shoulder popped back and oh, there was a lot of pain, but he braved it. Without another thought, he used both arms and legs to put his overstretched enemy into a lock. Again, the Overlord employed more psionic might; treads which held the Knight's wounds sewn closed were ripped asunder.
Blood gushed over the floor and the Alkiornian gasped.
“Die... choke... you must!” - screamed the Overlord, and nearly wriggled himself free from the Knight's lock.
With boneheaded ferocity, the Alkiornian maintained control over his lock, yet the strength of his limbs was waning. Forked tongue licking his chipped and broken teeth, the Overlord smiled behind his helm's mask.
“Love and Duty... gargle... first... Death... wheeze... later.” - With immortal calm replied the Knight, and choking on his own blood, reached for something.
Wrestling his arm free, the Overlord aimed to break the lock, but his yellow eyes caught a silvery glimmer.
His breathing became nigh impossible since a blade half an elbow long was stuck in his throat.
Useless he thought it, yet 'twas that blade which masterfully pierced the red-iron chain mail, the steel robbing him of life. His lips moved, yet only a lowly rale left them. There was a last, waning thought, of the child and future Overlord his Red Hag had spawned. A thought of revenge, and the torturous extinction which would befall the Alkiornians. Then his soul's sight was conquered by Father Death's angry eyes and, begone from this Plane, the Lord of all Thulm unleashed a scream unheard.
The Sorceress had been keeping the throne room and this Tower upright, her powers ravaging everything in sight, her companions included. Alive they were, yet barely! The Elf lay beside her feet and the Dwarf, most of his wounds tended to, a few steps from them.
So close, and yet, too far away!
Boiling with psionic power blood left the Overlord's body and spilt over the floor. The Knight was barely able to stand and with a single look around came to the realization that he could not save his beloved and his companions. Love or Duty, a choice which would rob him of either, First Brother Dalnor would never make!
Instead he used his head and in the heat of the moment, made his choice. From a small bag on his belt, the Knight produced a half-cleaned child's doll. The same he found as they descended underground, trod upon desecrated grave stones and the sorrow of the enslaved.
Dip the ragdoll in the blood of the Overlord he did, and thoroughly so. With a painful limp, fueled by the strength of the soul, he limped to Gelduin, sheathing his sword on the way. With the utmost of effort, his sight waning from blood loss, Dalnor carried his friend over to where shining Eirunn still stood upright. Skin burning from the rays emanating from her sorcerous stature, he produced his mirror locket and placed the blood-soaked doll on the decimated floor.
One last, hazy look at the face of his beloved Sianna, with a rale, the Knight drenched the locket in the Overlord's hissing blood.
There was a mighty clangor and the sound of cracking mirror reverberated through his body. Doll and locket created a bloody mirror where he placed them on the floor. He fell on one knee, but managed to push Gelduin through it first, followed by Ainhart, and, hands burning the breath he touched her, finally it was glowing Eirunn who he slid into the mirror.
The Tower quaked and its walls moaned; reluctantly, the entire building began to collapse just like the Knight who did not betray Love nor Duty. He lay with a smile on his face, life ebbing away from his old wounds. Eyes shut and ears conquered by the roar of stone crushing upon stone, nevertheless, there was a fatherly whisper in his soul's ear:
“Such deathless love, such implacable duty must not vanish from this Plane.”
Unfathomably, the Knight descended into the bloody mirror, smoldering doll and shining locket following his armored figure soon after.
* * *
Thulm and slaves fought on the streets of Zhul, the former overwhelmed and the latter, ready to die but be free. Shook by the fall of the Overlord's mighty Tower, Bone Raiders became full of confusion, their otherwise vicious minds denied the presence of their Lord. Many, thousands were crushed by the crumbling Tower and the Thulm's city, engulfed in flame.
Writhing in pain, the last remaining Flesh Witch ran away from the city, a small, vigorously twitching bundle clutched to her bosom.
***
Thus ends the first tale of First Brother Dalnor of the Iron Knights Order, Arkan Spear Bearer Eirunn, Chief Forester Gelduin of the Elden Rangers, and Guardian Chanter Ainhart of the Vayila Temple…
***
Dear reader, if you liked this story, you might enjoy my published work.
Great conclusion to your story, Knight. The fight between the knight and the overlord was vicious and well-paced. Thorough entertainment.
That was Epic! Just as the Knight put his knife in the Overloards throat. It THUNDERED. Here scared me and Annie. I thought your story was coming to life. Wonderful ending 😍