Light warmed his face as he awakened.
He cursed, slamming a fist into his shield, then ordered Nathan to help him don his armor.
"What did it say?" Nathan asked, tightening the straps on his gauntlets. "Was it old elvish? Perhaps a northern tongue?"
"It said nothing," he growled, snatching up his flail. "Just horse shit."
Though he was ready to march, eyeing the walls in a morning darkness, the others were still silent.
They rested by the fire, huddled within their cloaks. It couldn't have been so harsh, just a few blades, fire, and his own clumsiness crushing one of them. Once the spine broke there was no more feeling, at least in his own experience.
He towered over the Ember, waiting for them to stand.
William tugged his arm. "They need a bit ore time, my lord."
"What for?" He demanded. "And how many times must I tell you I'm not a fucking lord?"
Allison glared at him, but went back to her sulking.
"Just give us another hour," she muttered, rubbing her eyes.
Three of the best adventurers he could find so far to the black world's end.
They were frightened, much like the bloody Elfstones. For what reason he couldn't figure, as there was no dying for them when all things came to an end.
William led him a few paces away, Nathan close behind.
"You're none the wiser, a swamp dweller no less," the young father said, examining him. "You must've died thousands of times by now."
"Aye, and I'm going mad aren't I?" He grumbled. "Pitiful fucking luck."
William shook his head. "You're not mad. Not yet. Though it is a miracle you haven't done so already. Most soulless don't make it out the swamp as it is."
"What would you know of it?" He asked, leaning breathing over the young father.
William didn't flinch, glaring up at him. "I know plenty. More than you, and I know you'd better think of a strategy to kill that vampyre shade. For every time they die, they'll lose a piece of themselves."
"They'll get used to it," he said, turning away from the lad.
William rambled more, just utter nonsense, as he returned to the fire where a ready Dany greeted him.
She said nothing, sword over her shoulder, its steel glistening from the flame.
Allison and Arthur were reluctant, though readied their gear.
On the walk back to the square, his new found sister conjured up a strategy.
"I'll strike first," she said, twirling her blade. "It wasn't as fast as I anticipated, but those eyes will be a problem. I need you to stay close."
"If you find yourself tiring, just get behind me."
She shook her head. "I'll be fine. As soon as its eyes brighten, I'll duck behind you."
It was no hunt.
In spite of buffed weapons and armor, experience from the Graves to the battlefield, and holy light within his steel, he was of little use. It was his battle to swing, whip, and bash anything into the dirt.
Though he'd little care for watching the Embers sulk.
Death was a teacher, something only a handful understood.
Flames danced, blue like the gems aligned on the wall. He growled, steam rising from his helm. Dany entered the square first, then everyone else followed.
From the depths of the altar, the shade rose.
Dany lunged at it, crossing swords with a single swing. She staggered back, parrying thrusts. When the shade swung, she ducked and leaped. Quick like a hare, yet a firm sword hand, she clashed steel against black metal.
It sounded to be steel. The shade was so dark, it was difficult to tell if there was an opening.
Once it rose higher, eyes igniting, he grounded his shield. Dany dove behind him. Fire erupted against him, and he didn't budge. It was hot, but were it to touch him he'd be little more than grazed.
As soon as the shade's eyes dimmed, it soared to his back.
Dany parried it. Arrows flew, one landing in the shades belly.
It cursed, slipping into the altar. The latter spurted blue flames, raining across all the square. Allison and Arthur leaped towards him, and he covered all the Embers until the altar went dark.
Shadows rose from the altar. He raised his flail, but Allison warned him.
"We can use it! Don't!"
Instead he swung for the shade.
It ducked, darting his way. Dany thrusted its way, forcing it back.
She bounced off her feet, spinning between strokes, knocking swords. The shade was quick, but she was almost anticipating its movements. It sliced her chin, missing her throat as she tucked her head down.
Its eyes ignited as it rose to the sky, then he swung his flail.
He missed, though the shade's eyes remained dark. Allison loosed, striking its belly again, then landed another arrow in its chest.
It growled, disappearing in a wave of black smoke.
"Now you see," the shade spoke, its echo becoming the common tongue, "who you're truly fighting."
From the shadows it stepped, no longer a shade.
A tall red armored pale skinned vampyre, with bat like wings, and a pair of arms on each side. Its eyes brightened, blue flames rose on its blades, and it leaned back into a cross swords stance. Hair down to its waist was white like the moon, and its fangs were like bright steel tips.
Dany kept her blade close, drawing her round shield.
Allison loosed, though vampyre swatted arrows away with its wings. It lunged for her, though a thrust from Arthur sent it back.
Dany charged, and the two exchanged swords for but a few strokes. She took a slice to the face, shutting her right eye, then another through the throat. The vampyre severed her head, two swords cutting in, then flew up.
Allison kept her bow arm steady, until its eyes ignited.
Though before it fired it disappeared into smoke, reappearing right behind her. One blast incinerated her head, and her headless body flopped to the ground.
Alone with Arhtur again, he swung his flail. Yet the vampyre stepped, so much faster than when it was in shadow form, he didn't have time to retract his chain. Blades plunged through his eyes, then hot steel seeped through his throat.
His head rolled, helm denting the ground, as Arthur thrusted alone.
His vision blurred while the vampyre hissed, blood spilling.