"Lead on," Tymythy said, nodding to Dounia and jogging with the group as best his mail-encumbered body would allow - it would not do to completely exhaust himself right before a battle, after all. At least they had got confirmation that the entity freed by the group of human prisoners was just as grateful as he could have hoped. He didn't hold much hope that the prisoners would keep on fighting once the Ravens reached the scene, but perhaps they'd have at least enough honor to stand back and lick their wounds while Tymythy and the ladies faced whatever horror awaited them.
The Blackbirds hustled north. They stayed together. They played it smart. They passed one row of tower-slabs, then a second. Noise from the east pulled their attention.
On top of a raised green slab just north of them, a man stood looking east. He was perhaps five-and-a-half feet tall, wore a hardy hide doublet and held a boarding axe.
Fifty feet east and on top of another slab was a woman. She was maybe in her fifties and looked like a chewed piece of hide. She had long hair tied back, wore studded leather armour and had a dagger and short sword in hands. She looked back at the four Black Birds, stared for a second, and then began to laugh.
She mouthed something.
Between the two and a little north, Dounia could clearly see a third figure, a human or perhaps half-orc atop a third slab. He had a rapier on his hip and held a light crossbow. He was looking downward.
Everyone could see two creatures on the ground. Were they creatures? They were small and looked like a collection of rubbish, parts of a rocking horse, a small clothing rack, a little wheel, a collection of small doll parts. One was bound together by a torn bedsheet and the other wore a ripped portrait like a poncho. Mounted on the spindle for necks each had skulls where heads should be! The bedsheet creature had the skull of a calf. The painting wearer had the head of a giant rat.
Cairee looked at the creatures and fought to recall something she'd heard at the outpost she stayed at before all of this.
"The spirits of children They're the spirits of children ... inhabiting the remnants of their old possessions. Saiph help me. Lost spirits that can steal your strength with a touch. Saiph would want me to, to free them." She tried not to cry. Her anger helped. "The farmers used to call them Attic Whisperers."
There was the Ka-chunk and all of the green slabs, the only one's standing, fell! BOOM
All of the people came down with them. The woman landed in a tuck-and-roll and was on her feet in no time. The other two landed hard.
The entire arena was visible! Further north, two other figures could be seen.
An elven woman (in studded leather armour holding a composite long bow) looked around suddenly revealed from her hiding place. Her curses were audible. And an elven man wearing a chain shirt. He had an elven sword and a heavy crossbow. His left foot was covered in brass metal and he stood a little awkwardly on it.
It was Cynesarnes and E'gama, the two who had tried to break-in on the first day. The'd been hiding since the gate opened.
”Up there,” Tymythy grunted, gesturing with his usriev at the people he had spotted. A man with an axe, holding something in his other hand… a feather? Black? This seemed an omen right there, thought the in-name-only leader of the group now calling themselves the Blackbirds. But an omen of what? That was always the issue, and him with no clan shamans with him to interpret the sign.
And a woman, armed with blades, and looking like she had already crossed them with someone… or something, and come out second best. She turned their way and met Tymythy’s gaze, and seemed to find the contestants’ arrival grimly amusing.
Add to that the third figure Dounia soon spotted… there were still one of two unaccounted for, but as they came close enough to see what the three had been staring at on the floor, the hunter thought he might guess why some of their numbers might be missing.
Unquiet spirits, possessing effigies for bodies? The sight of the creatures sent a shudder through Tymythy’s body. This scene seemed ripped straight from the darkest stories the shamans told to scare respect of the supernatural into young hunters still certain of their own immortality. But he had little time to stop to worry as the arena chose that moment to shift again, this time dropping all the slabs and revealing everyone… for a moment, at least.
He recognized two further figures – elves both, the man with a clear leg injury. The freedom fighters who had tried to sneak into the party to fund their people’s war against their enemies. So, no slow rotting in a lightless cell for them, but a warrior’s way out with weapons in hand. These two, it would be an honour to fight, even though the two no doubt would have wished to be anywhere else. This, at least, was no chance meeting, Tymythy firmly believed, but a reaction to him reaching out to the two prisoners in the evening past.
Trouble was, who to go for first? The two elves, he might be willing to believe would fight the fell spirits or at least stand back while the Blackbirds dealt with them. But the other prisoners, Tymythy was willing to trust as far as he could throw them… but he did feel bound by Dounia’s earlier attempt to parley with them, and while he had reasonable excuse in them freeing these Whisperers as Cairee had called the spirits, no doubt with the intention of letting them do their dirty work, he still hesitated to swing the first spear.
The movement Dounia noticed was also out in the open. A man, human, large.He wore a chainmail shirt and held a large axe. He was hunching and looked like he was heaving, breathing heavily.
As Dounia saw the others arrayed around her, she immediately understood her mistake. The Blackbirds were clustered together, where one powerful spell could take them all out together. Smarter to use the changing landscape to their advantage, to use it as cover and as lookout. How were these others so good at this? She was glad they weren't getting scored.
Ready to break away from the group, Dounia glanced at the things Cairee called Attic Whisperers. They didn't look that tough. Little piles of garbage and bones. She wondered if they could do magic. Calling out to the others, she said, "Truce, right?" She held in a comment about them being stupid for releasing the gross little garbage children.
Zahra tried to examine their potential foes that she could see. She saw one of them holding a black feather - she hoped it wasn't magic related - and the woman mouthing something but she was unsure about what she was trying to tell her friend.
The floor shifted again and the whole arena became visible. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the forms that Cairee called Attic Whisperers. Zahra's eyes went wide, "That's horrible! Trapped spirits of children, how awful."
"Free them, definitely. But how?"
She tried to think of anything that she may have been told at Haseena's home during lessons. It probably involved magic after all.
Zahra looked at the strangely child-like collection of ruins and couldn't see anything of the arcane in them. These were creature of the world of the divine. Necromancy had never been high in the priorities of Haseena's teachings.
The creatures were remarkably fast but moved like toddlers, tipping slightly left and right as they went. As clumsy as they appeared, the spirits were on the fallen prisoner and his apparent leader, the grizzly of a woman.
The leader writhed away from the jaws of the rat skull and, somehow, the half-orc prone on the ground rolled to evade the second monsters touch.
As one of the Attic Whisperers got nearer you could all hear many voices emanating from where it stood.
"...but you were supposed to protec..."
"...people will come looking. You'll never get awa..."
"...guides for the entire caravan. Money has already changed..."
"...please, you can't just leave..."
"...she's shot him. She's just shot..."
The whispers moved in and out of the forefront of audibility like hollow echoes of people long gone.
Tymythy didn’t like how things were developing. The spirit-possessed effigies had jumped the closest targets they could reach, in this case two of the prisoners, but who knew how such a creature thought? They might be happy to worry their current targets to death or they might shift their attention at any moment to someone else they perceived as more appetizing… or the greater threat to them. And the four prisoners… armed, and already having proved they meant ill to the Ravens. Not that that was anything he hadn’t expected from the first. And had to admit he drew a little bit of satisfaction seeing the prisoners’ plan turn on them. But to die at the hands of such demented spirits… that wasn’t a fate he would wish for his worst enemies, let alone people forced into facing them by their host’s pleasure.
But if they chose to stand against the spirits, what would prevent the prisoners from taking potshots at them with their bows while hoping the Ravens and the spirits would finish each other off, or at least deal enough damage that the survivors would become easy picking to the prisoners. To prevent them fighting a war on two fronts – or possibly three, considering the elven duo had yet to make their own move – something had to be at least attempted.
Muttering a curse, Tymythy moved towards the closest prisoner, who was still struggling to stand after being dropped from the raised slab, and pointed his usriev at the man’s throat.
”I know not what you did to earn playing this part in our host’s entertainments, but if any of us is to live, we need to form an accord. Either join us dealing with the spirits you freed, or swear to stand back. We can resolve our differences once mere mortal threats remain standing. Take the opportunity to abuse our generosity, and I will curse you and your line on my last breath. And if you decide this threat is an empty one… know that I follow in the footsteps of the Great Spirits of my clan. Invoke their wrath at your own risk.”
”Now choose! Or accept my blade – it will be cleaner than what those two abominations have in store for us all.”
Once again, Zahra was out of her depth. "There's nothing arcane about the Attic Whisperers so I don't know how to stop them."
She tilted her head as if it could help her hear better. "There is so much pain and heartache in those voices. It almost makes you want to hug them rather than destroy them...almost. Because they are also terrifying."
"If they embody the spirits of children maybe I can distract them with something a child would like."
Ondugal looked up at Tymythy like a wrecked sailor. He nodded and put out his right hand, an ask for help rising. His left hand still clutched the black feather which was, from this distance, clearly black painted iron.
As Tymythy moved to be adjacent Ondugal he could feel the sudden weight of the faint voices, the aura of sobs about him. It was so heavy. So sad. It froze his arms and made it difficult to act.
He stood up with no attempt to waylay the spearman but looked Tymythy over as he rose. "You're Hlwylani? What family? Inkriones? Paemani? Basternae?" He seemed to be straining to understand Tymythy but wasn't making headway.
The old woman did a tuck-n-roll away from the painted poncho Attic Whisperer and moved towards the Black Birds. He back was towards the team as she walked swiftly backwards and away from the terrors.
Cleech stood up and the bed-sheeted creature reached out and touched him. Cleech screamed in fear and as he screamed his voice left his body and could be heard traveling over to the monster. It opened its' mouth and finished the scream!
The aura of sobs now had within it, and part of it, a faint eternal scream. Tymythy could hear it ringing, unbreathing, unending, in his ears.
Gorigan, the southern-most cellmate, move west as fast as he could but something was holding him back.
The two elves kept their distance and watched.
Cairee walked forward. She seemed sad and confident. Holding out her pendant she called back to Zahra, "We free them like this. Y'gren el n'nahc!"
As she spoke it was as if a great sunbeam was striking a rotating gemstone. Rays of powerful light shot out from her and converged into two streams, each striking an attic whisperer.
The beams barely touched the creatures but what did dissolved part of its' conglomerate self.
Dounia hated everything about what was going on. She didn’t trust those elves, she didn’t like that the prisoners were people she’d seen before, she hated those whispery children. And she hated knowing that the floor was about to shift again.
She quickly debated moving now versus waiting to see what the floor was going to do. She decided to wait. Taking a pair of daggers from her new belt, she took aim at the nearest unholy terror and threw them in quick succession.
She then readied herself to jump on the nearest rising pillar, or steady herself on this one, should it go up.
Zahra nodded grimly as Cairee moved forward. The sorceress had been hoping that there was another way to free them other than destroying them but it didn't seem to be the case.
She began motioning and speaking arcane words which ended with Zahra pointing fingers at the Attic Whisperers. Silvery darts shot out of each of her index fingers, one flying towards each of the trapped souls.
As the magic struck unerringly, Zahra whispered, "Be free, little ones. I'm sorry no one protected you in your previous life." The young woman couldn't help but feel how fortunate she was to have a loving family. She was beginning to realize that not everyone did which could cause great pain and even create unnatural creatures.
Dounia's daggers flew out as two silvery missiles released from Zahra's hands. Both missiles hit solidly and in the centre of the creature's bodies. Dounia's first dagger skipped of the floor and disappeared before reappearing on her belt. The second blade shot past the creatures left shoulder.
The Ka-chunk sounded and Dounia was ready. She stepped forward and let the blue slab beside her raise her up. It tossed her up in the air with its' momentum. She landed neatly on her feet.
From where she was she could see the prone Gorigan and the elf, E'gama.
All of the blue slabs rose.
Cynesarnes and E'gama, the two elves, were once again hidden from view.
Dounia cursed under her breath as both her daggers missed their targets. She was just too far away. She wished she had her shortbow, but it was in Zahra's bag. It had been a while since she'd even practiced with it. And now she was on the pillar, but couldn't get to another pillar easily. If only I could climb up and down these things faster....
And then she remembered something. She'd been carrying it around in her beltpouch for so long, she'd forgotten about it. A gift from Cyra, in case they were ever stranded on a roof or balcony.
Dounia grabbed it out of her pouch with a triumphant grin. She uncorked the metal vial and downed the contents. Then she shouted, "Help us! If we all attack them, we can kill them before they kill any of us!"
Dounia downed the small white vial filled with a thick milky concoction and watched from above as the two Attic Whisperers zeroed in on the two nearest people - Tymythy and Cairee.
The blanket wrapped whisperer had closed the distance on Tymythy with enough time to lash out with a bite. The spearman fended it off with the haft of Kizu'gina.
But then it hit. Both Dounia and Cairee, like Tymythy before them, found themselves oppressed by the full effect of the sobbing sounds that followed the Attic Whisperers.
A man's voice, "... you were supposed to guide us and ..."
Several voices, "... no, no, you can't ..."
A small boy's voice, "... ommy, what's the man doing with ..."
A woman's voice, "... the whole caravan! Just to lure her out of ..."
He stood up with no attempt to waylay the spearman but looked Tymythy over as he rose. "You're Hlwylani? What family? Inkriones? Paemani? Basternae?" He seemed to be straining to understand Tymythy but wasn't making headway.
These words were not what Tymythy had expected to hear, and made the hunter pause and give the prisoner a much closer look. Yes, there was the look there, of his own people. Perhaps it was the outlandish clothes the man wore that had fooled Tymythy (not that he was at any position to argue clothes, clad in Validuth fashion as he was) or merely the fact that he was certainly not expecting to run into his countrymen here... but the accent was unmistakeable now that his attention had been drawn to it.
But which clan was he from? That might be vital, since some feuds between the families cut bone-deep and sometimes not even the common threat of the Aerthaniani couldn’t keep the knives sheathed. Not his own clan, that was certain enough – the man had no warrior’s braid nor sign that it had been cut recently. No. Perhaps a beast-lord of the Juthungi? Or a Gewisse, whose eternal search of the purest warrior blood by ritual duels to the death kept their numbers low... and the might of their few warriors unmatched.
But those markings he now glimpsed around the man’s neck... scars, not tattoos, ridges of flesh raised by injecting herbal draughts rather than ink under the skin. Those brought back tales of the Thylyr and their self-imposed exile. Rumours of forbidden congress with spirits and their half-blood kin, of joining of bloodlines. The warlock blood was said to run deep in every son and daughter of that clan, and when you gazed into the eyes of a Thylyr, there was no telling what gazed back at you from behind the mirrors of their souls.
Yet not every tale of the clan was dark, even though those were the ones most oft told. And Tymythy had heard them all, or near enough, as he had loved to sit in and listen to their mother teach the clan’s tales to his brother, who was to inherit her mantle as the Keeper of Histories one day. In their own way, they followed the will of the spirits, no doubt hearing their words more clearly than even the shamans of Tymythy’s own clan. In their own way, they kept the faith.
In their own way, they fought for their freedom.
<<Basternae,>> Tymythy whispered in his native language. <<And you... a Thylyr? And a follower of our Lord of the Black-Winged Hosts?>> he asked, glancing at the feather the man clutched like a talisman. <<If so, then in that, at least, we are as brothers.>> With a grand sweep of an arm he pulled the usriev’s blade from the Thylyri’s neck and turned to face the two possessed effigies...
... and not a moment too soon! The distraught murmurs of the tormented and tormenting spirits settled on his shoulders like a wet woollen mantle, heavy and suffocating, distracting him with whispers that seemed to echo all around him. Yet his training came to his rescue and the effigy’s teeth that had sought his flesh found only the heavily invested wooden half of the usriev.
It was a risk to turn his back to his kinsman but under the spirits’ ferocious assault, he had little choice in the matter. As the closest Whisperer recoined from the unexpected block Tymythy raised his spear in a two-handed inverted grip above the collection of doll-parts and brought it straight down, intending to impale the creature and perhaps immobilize it, but the effigy’s strange composition worked against him and the usriev’s wavy blade merely chipped a doll’s wooden face and crushed a small porcelain hand... and the little horror had several more to spare.
Zahra stepped to her right so that she could see around the raised pillar. She could see one of the Attic Whisperers dangerously close to Cairee and so she used the last of her more powerful magic to send more silvery darts at it before it could hurt her friend.
The sheet wrapped creature tottered back a step as the mask that made up its' hip exploded. The Whisperer's torso collapsed upon itself but didn't seem to hamper its' speed as it stepped forward again.
Cairee gasped as the portraited child-thing closed the distance between them in its' unbalanced walk. Over her shoulders came two silvery darts that collided with the painted poncho the creature wore or was made out of.
The black Birds could hear the old woman's voice call out, "Now boys! Like we discussed but keep the women alive! ... What are you doing Ondugal!
The woman and man closest to Zahra launch themselves at her! "Just grab her Cleech!" ... "I'm trying to but she's covered in this machine grease!" ... "You're getting in my way! If we can capture them we win our freedom and can claim Casche's bounty!" The half-orc that the woman called 'Cleech' slid in some of Zahra's footsteps and nearly bowled over his partner as Zahra easily squirmed out of their grasp.
The man atop the pillar to Dounia's 4 o'clock crawled to his block's edge and tried to climb down. He looked to be going after Cairee but he fell prone again.
The man behind Tymythy, the one the leader just called Ondugal, walked backwards a few steps while looking between the threatening Tymythy and the commanding old woman, <hlewmylani>"Someday, maybe, you'll know the true Dark Keeper of Secrets. Lord cover me with you deception! Master of disorder and darkness!" As he stepped backwards, he disappeared.
Tymythy turned back to the lifeless thing before him and watched as a arrow shot threw its' giant rat skull head, the point sticking from its' nostril hole. He could clearly see Cynesarnes step back behind one of the blue pillars some fifty feet away.
Dounia could see from her position where E'gama, the other elf warrior, rolled off the pillar he was on and was once again concealed from view.
Cairee grasped her pendant and called to Saiph for her light once more!
The Ka-chunk sounded and Dounia was sure it came from the yellow pillars!
Dounia was furious, but also strangely relieved, when the prisoners betrayed them. At least now they knew.
Yellow was moving next, she was sure of it. Well, that was bringing her target to her. Dounia moved to the far corner of her block (), pulled her daggers, and waited.
The block rose, bringing the woman straight up to her, then she fell prone as the yellow slab stopped moving. Dounia was already attacking. She lashed out with both daggers at the fallen woman, releasing her anger at the sudden but inevitable betrayal.
All of the yellow slabs shot upward.
In the distance, and at about two o'clock, Dounia could see the elven prisoner, Cynesarnes, rise up, get tossed into the air, then land on her feet.
Before her, Dounia timed her strike on the old woman. The leader rose up with Zahra and fell hard. In her lowered state, she took a bad slash from the desert thief.
Tymythy appeared to be alone with the attic whisperer in a pen of slab walls.
<hlewmylani>"Someday, maybe, you'll know the true Dark Keeper of Secrets. Lord cover me with you deception! Master of disorder and darkness!" As he stepped backwards, he disappeared.
Tymythy frowned. This was not one of the Names he had heard attributed to his patron spirit but it was said that, for good or ill, the Thylyr knew many things about the supernatural that even most shamans hadn’t seen nor imagined. Things no mere mortal was meant to know. And as darkness enveloped this Ondugal like a black feathered cloak, it was clear the man had the ear of the great spirit himself, or one his minions at least.
For their shared lineage and patronage, Tymythy was willing to give the man at least a modicum of trust... and assuming Cynesarnes’s aim had been true, the elves were also willing to help put the unquiet spirits to rest before resolving their own issues. So, that left the other prisoners, and the two spirits in their effigies, who thus far hadn’t seemed to be on anyone’s side but their own as his immediate problems. And with that in mind...
”Want to play, spirit?” he asked the hodgepodge collection of refuse before him. ”How about some tag? You are it!” ... and he jumped away from the horrible little creature and bounded in the direction of all the shouting and clashing, following Dounia’s footsteps, hoping the spirit would follow and add its own brand of chaos to whatever mix Zahra, Dounia and at least two of the prisoners were already cooking.
<hlewmylani>"Someday, maybe, you'll know the true Dark Keeper of Secrets. Lord cover me with you deception! Master of disorder and darkness!" As he stepped backwards, he disappeared.
Tymythy frowned. This was not one of the Names he had heard attributed to his patron spirit but it was said that, for good or ill, the Thylyr knew many things about the supernatural that even most shamans hadn’t seen nor imagined. Things no mere mortal was meant to know. And as darkness enveloped this Ondugal like a black feathered cloak, it was clear the man had the ear of the great spirit himself, or one his minions at least.
For their shared lineage and patronage, Tymythy was willing to give the man at least a modicum of trust... and assuming Cynesarnes’s aim had been true, the elves were also willing to help put the unquiet spirits to rest before resolving their own issues. So, that left the other prisoners, and the two spirits in their effigies, who thus far hadn’t seemed to be on anyone’s side but their own as his immediate problems. And with that in mind...
Trapped as he was with no easy escape in sight, he had little choice expect focus on the spirit and leave the fate of the prisoners to the capable hands of the ladies. Doing his best to ignore the oppressive and distracting muttering and crying of the creature, the hunter danced around his foe, spinning his long-hafted weapon to block and parry biting jaws and hands reaching out to grasp him, and lashed out in turn, shattering pieces of what made up the spirit’s mortal shell, and simply hoping the destruction would have some actual effect on it.
Zahra shrieked as many hands began to reach for her. "Capturing me will not free you! You have been lied to."
Zahra could feel the floor beneath her begin to move but she wasn't able to keep her footing because of her greasy film. She fell down with a grunt and slid a bit to the right.
Thankfully Dounia was there to distract the woman. While Dounia struck out at the woman, Zahra got to her feet. She then grew her claws and defended herself by striking at the woman from behind.
Zahra shrieked as many hands began to reach for her. "Capturing me will not free you! You have been lied to."
The old woman took a dagger to the shoulder and in an instant had her shortsword and dagger in hand. She ducked a claw swipe as she stood up. And turned to Dounia but spoke back to Zahra, "Don't be foolish. It's our only way out. And it'll get us Casche's bounty to-boot. Cleech! Get up here, Now!"
The woman swiped for Dounia's thigh but it was a false strike. The dagger came shortly after and meant to skewer the desert thief but she saw it coming and folded herself backwards impossibly far, her feet adhering to the slab, to avoid the blow!
The half-orc companion nearly hopped up to the top of the slabs and drew his rapier on the scorceress! He lunged with near perfect dueling form and drove the blade over Zahra's left hip so that it came out the other side.
The old Woman, "FOOL! IF YOU KILL HER AND LOSE ME MY BOUNTY I"LL HANG YOU! NONE OF THE WOMEN DIE! GOT IT!"
Cleech replied, frustrated, "Yes, Wynowen."
Gorigan pressed himself between the two raised slabs and grabbed out for Cairee. She ducked his hand and stepped towards Tymythy's battle. She called to Saiph for her light one last time! Raise shot out and burned both Attic Whisperer but they seemed to show a great resilience to her god's cleansing radiance.
-
Tymythy felt alone, and only just able to see through the spaces between the raised slabs when, just northeast of him he could see Cynesarnes rush across the slab tops. She knelt at the edge of one as she aimed for the slot. She looked calm. Tymythy could almost hear her exhale before she released.
The arrow found its' way between the slabs and shot through the whisperer's cloth body, taring it but a little.
E'gama, Cyn's partner clambered onto the slab near her.
All of the red slabs shot upward.
Tymythy, the blanket wrapped Whisperer, and one of the foes shot up into the air a few extra feet. The man fell flat once again. The Whisperer found its' feet with amazing ease.
Dounia swiped at the bounty hunter as she stood, scoring a long scratch along her back. The red slabs moved, and Dounia cursed her luck - it wouldn't get her flanking with Zahra. However, if she moved that way....
Dounia leapt down the side, doing a neat flip to avoid Wynowen's blades, and scampered along the side, coming up on the opposite side of Cleech. It would have left her vulnerable, if not for the spider climb potion, and she was too quick and nimble for him to take advantage of her movement. The man now found himself between Zahra and Dounia, and the desert thief took full advantage of that.
She struck out with both daggers, stabbing deep with each, one in his ribs, and the other close to his spine. "We're not bounties!" she yelled.
Dounia dodged past Wynowen, ran nearly horizontally along the slabs vertical face, and popped back up behind Cleech. He performed a flowery twirl with his rapier and thrust at her but she was already underneath his arm, her blades in his body. His eyes turned into saucers. He coughed and spattered Dounia's shayla with speckles of blood. His eyes went dead inside as he fell sideways off the slab.
Dounia felt a burning on her back. She reached and looked at her hand. Blood. A glance at the old woman saw Wynowen furious but holding a bloodied shortsword. She got a cut past Dounia's guard afterall.
Tymythy stood against the whisperer. The sobs of the dead sounded in his ears and then he felt it! Kizu'gina began to feel heavy, so heavy. The distraction was enough for the whispering horror to sneak in and bite the warrior's forearm.
Another wave of tiredness fell over him! Tymythy fell to one knee as the creature's bite threatened to steal yet more strength. He shook his head and stood again. He was uneffected ... for now. But he could see Cairee receive a bite of her own. He could see the fatigue wash over her.
Tymythy switched briefly to one-handed grip to dislodge the creature’s biting teeth from his arm, fearing for a moment some curse had befallen him as he felt his strength failing him, before realizing it was only the spell of power fading. How quickly had he got used to the borrowed power to miss it so! Yet the spirit, the Whisperer, gave him no time to lament the loss, recovering easily from the shifting of the slabs that gave Tymythy yet another new set of bruises.
At least from his new vantage point he could get a better picture of the situation. He saw the two prisoners fighting Zahra and Dounia, Cairee trapped in a pit formed of raised slabs with the other Whisperer, the two elves further away, yet for the moment seemingly willing to help, as he had hoped and prayed they might. He dearly wanted to go and help Zahra with the two prisoners, but who knew if the spirit would follow if he turned tail and ran? It might just as well jump down on top of Cairee. Still, he wanted at least threaten the prisoners…
Standing his ground, he delivered a quick thrust at the animated effigy, but while the usriev’s blade clipped the thing he doubted he hit anything that would inconvenience the creature… it was hard enough to guess where the thing’s weak spots were, and when one added to that its preternatural quickness and the strange way it moved…
”Want to play, spirit?” he asked the hodgepodge collection of refuse before him. ”How about some tag? You are it!”
One of the cell IV men approached from the east. Zahra moved to Wynowen's left side and the old woman pivoted in defence. The sorceress brandished her claws and the first sliced deep wounds into her enemies forearm.
Wynowen responded with two attacks. The flat blade of a shortsword and a dagger, pommel first, threatened to hit but the old woman was holding back and Zahra dodged them on instinct alone.
The man, the one that had tried to attack Cairee, ran in front of Dounia and swung underhanded. The flat of the battleaxe blade hit her square on the chin. Her vision whited-out for a second and her ears were filled with a persistent ringing. The man stood opposingly between Dounia and Wynowen.
Dounia felt a hand on her shoulder. Two men appeared behind the desert thief as if taking off invisible cloaks. They looked identical down to their equipment. They both seem to have touched her. The world split around her like she was viewing it through a kaleidoscope. Faces folded into themselves. Bodies split apart and the arena itself folded at a ninety degree angle and Tymythy was now walk horizontally along his weird section of slabs. "Blessing upon you from the lord of trickery and true chaos."
The huge male elf rushed at Tymythy's attic whisperer and took a mighty swing at it with a curved elven sword but the creature ducked him. Cynesarnes rushed to a position over Cairee and shot down at the second creature but her arrow shattered on the floor near its' feet.
Cairee was feeling woozy, either from the horror of the creature attacking her, or the fell magic of its bite. Or perhaps channelling so much of Saiph's divine power in such a short period of time. Probably all three.
Her hand on her pendant, she prayed wordlessly to Saiph. The cleric didn't know what to do. It kept biting at her, and all of Saiph's love hadn't stopped it yet. She was trapped in a box with it, and the others were too busy to help her. I need to get away.
"Partwo Dahs" she cried out, trying to pin the creature in place so she could take the time to climb away from it.
Cairee rushed her prayer but she was able to get all of her words out as she mimed throwing an iron spike at the creature's shadow. Cairee scrambled to climb out but couldn't reach the ledge. The Whisperer's surround of sobbing all began to say the same thing "Stay ... no, stay ... don't go" as the creature reached out and touched her waist. Cairee grabbed for her throat. She couldn't speak.
But all could hear her voice join the chorus of others, "Please don't go ... stay here with meeeee."
Then the world around Cairee rushed downward as all of the green slabs raised to meet the others. The cleric was tossed in the air and tried to land on her feet but she was thrown to the ground. The whisperer fell splayed on the slab as well.
Everyone was suddenly on the same plane. Dounia could hear the wet squelches and the crunching of bones as Cleech's dead body beneath her became caught in the space between slabs.
Dounia felt a sudden, overwhelming sense of vertigo as she was surrounded by two - no, three - no...two? three? enemies. Were those two twins? No, it was a spell. Right?
Either way, she hated it. Throwing herself backwards in a roll over the now-even ground, she tried to get away from the twoorthree men who were flanking her. She kipped up to her feet and stepped over to where Zahra was fighting the lady in charge. Everything was still spinny, and Dounia concentrated with all her might to make sense of what wasa happening.
Daggers in each hand, she stabbed once, slashed once. The woman's leathers were covered in red blood.
Cascha's name tickled Zahra's brain. She felt like she should know that name but between all the things happening and the searing pain in her side, she couldn't get her thoughts to coalesce. All she knew was that she felt dread in the pit of her stomach.
Zahra's eyes widened in fear and were drawn towards Cairee when she heard her friend's voice join the lament of the others. The cries of the children were the real threat and should not include Cairee but there was nothing the sorceress could do to help her. Full of frustration at not being able to help her friend because she was surrounded by greedy liars, Zahra could feel her mercy shrink as her anger grew.
Ondugal slashed wildly and Gorigan chopped in a desperate swing but the young girl before them was a dervish, a whirlwind, as she danced over the chaotic vision before her and escaped their reach.
Wynowen broke her mask of self-control and yelled out, "Fine! Just kill them and we'll take the half-bount-" but she was cut short. Dounia's dagger buried itself in Wynowen's right side. As the old woman bent to guard the wound the second dagger found her throat. She never said another word searched for her throat. She managed to only just twist out of the way!
The whisperer that lay sprawled on the slab crawled over to Cairee and bit her ankle. Cairee yelped soundlessly as she fought off another wave of fatigue. Then it clambered up to loom over her.
The other whisperer turned on its' new attacker and bit E'gama's arm ferociously! Blood poured freely from the wound as the huge elf tried to stay on his feet. E'gama looked at his attacker and yelled a guttural yell! "NARAGHAM!"
Zahra desperately wanted to help Cairee. There was no telling how difficult it may become to help free her friend should the Attic Whisperers get their claws in further.
The sorceress had claws too and she was going to use them to remove the obstacles standing between her and the cleric. She reached forward and raked at Wynowen's neck.
Zahra couldn't tell if Cairee was conscious or not but she yelled at her friend. "Desperate times, Cairee! Try the gloves!" The sorceress knew the risks of trying magical items without knowing what they did but she was pretty sure the gloves had some sort of healing power. Otherwise, why would they look like gloves worn by healers?
Things were not looking too good for the Ravens, and Ondugal’s reappearance and the fact that he had apparently done something to Dounia certainly wasn’t helping. At least the two elves still held on to honour… and hopefully would wait until the other threats were eliminated before they too turned their blades and arrows on them.
Feeling torn as he saw enemies in each direction, Tymythy decided on the closest threat and stepped towards the Whisperer he had been working on, taking advantage of the fact the spirit was now focusing on E'gama. The hunter lunged and buried his usriev deep into the misshapen mass of the spirit’s effigy, cutting sideways to rip his weapon loose and sending whole chunks of broken bits of toys flying.
Kizu'gina thrust into the heart of the Attic Whisperer and the conglomeration of rubbish and musty bedsheet collapsed over it. It was as if there was never anything else. What held it together was gone.
Zahra screamed at Cairee as she slashed with her dragonic talons. Wynowen dodged desperately as she tried to keep an eye on both the sorceress and Dounia, and came through without a wound.
Then it was their turn.
Looking as white as a sheet and favouring her right side as she tried not to tare open the wound Dounia left, Wynowen lashed out twice on Zahra. This time, she wasn't holding back and put a long bloody slash across the sorceress' belly.
Gorigan tried to catch up to Dounia. He rushed behind her but was slow, sluggish, and passed too close. Dounia could see a momentary opening. His axe burried itself in the desert girl's thigh! He pulled it free and almost looked afraid at what he'd done, almost.
The two Ondugals moved to flank Zahra. They swung wildly and cuffed her in the back of the head and Zahra fell like a sack of apples.
Tymythy turned from the rubbish that was the Attic Whisperer to view the field. He saw the collapsed Zahra. E'gama looks at the warrior with desperate eyes and nods as if to say 'go! Go help your friends' then charged the second whisperer.
Swinging with all of his strength, E'gama cleaved off what seemed to be the creature's left arm. Cynesarnes stepped backwards until she could stand the surrounding weeping and shot an arrow into the centre of its' body.
Cairee tried to scream Zahra's name as she fell, but no sound came out. Not even a whisper of a scream. But the sorceress's last words to her echoed in her mind, and Cairee knew that without her voice, she couldn't heal her friend.
She took the gloves, pulled them on, and focused furiously, trying to figure out how they worked.
Meanwhile, Dounia flailed as Gorigan moved past her, but failed to connect. Then she staggered and almost fell as his axe nearly chopped her leg out from under her. She couldn't help screaming, especially when he pulled the axe out again. The gush of blood that followed was terrifying, and Dounia knew that it would take little more than a cat-scratch to knock her down.
And then Zahra fell.
"No no no no no no..." Dounia was nearly hyperventilating with pain and fear. This was NOT how the Blackbirds were going out! She knew that money was changing hands right now, back in the arena, and by all that was holy, anybody who bet on them dying was going to regret it!
Fumbling at her beltpouch, Dounia felt the reassuring shape of another potion bottle. She heard a click from the slab she stood on, and knew the red pillars were about to go down. It wouldn't do at all to be trapped at the bottom with that man and his axe.
Dounia reached out a hand, and caught the side of the blue slab as the red one dropped out from under her. Her feet easily found purchase on the side. With her other hand, she pulled out the vial, uncorked it with her teeth, and downed the contents. She felt the rush of blood slow, but so grievous was the wound that even the magical healing did little to make her feel better. Gotta push through it!
Wanting to avoid the woman and her flashing swords, Dounia dove forward onto the blue slab on her belly, trying to stay low and out of sword-reach. She rolled to her feet near the middle of the slab, and took a second to just breathe.
Cairee could feel the gloves, could feel their purpose and that purpose was to heal. They had no use here. What they were meant for would take time and wouldn't work on the dead.
So she tried to roll away from her attacker. The whisperer nipped at her legs and a bite got through! Then Cairee found herself being defended by the huge elf, E'gama.
All the time the whispers and sobs kept sounding ...
A woman's voice, "You mean yo sacrificed us all ..."
A chorus with Cairee's voice, "Please, stay here."
Another woman's voice, "Just to draw that woman from the tower."
A man's voice, "You were supposed to be our guide!"
The chorus, "So lonely, so alone."
As the red slabs fell so fell Ondugal and Gorigan. For the first time, Gorigan found his feet! Ondugal fell and fell hard!
The whisperer lashed out at E'gama with its' teeth and bit him again!
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Tymythy turned from the rubbish that was the Attic Whisperer to view the field. He saw the collapsed Zahra. E'gama looks at the warrior with desperate eyes and nods as if to say 'go! Go help your friends' then charged the second whisperer.
Glancing back at Dounia and Zahra as the spirit’s effigy dissipated under his last strike his eyes widened in horror as he saw Zahra falling. Once again, his mind returned to that fateful night raid against the Aerthanians. The image of his cousin thrust through with an invader’s sword melding in with Ondugal striking at the mystic’s head. Both the real woman and the man in his memories seemed to fall in unison. E'gama’s nod barely registered as Tymythy turned to rush towards the two struggling women…
… and then the arena shifted yet again, dropping him into a pit. With a yell of rage mixed in with desperation the young hunter ignored the pain of yet another bruise and clawed his way up the slab, seeming to fly up the wall despite the weight of his armour. Once on top of the slabs once more, he saw only the woman, the apparent leader of the prisoners standing over Zahra, in his imagination preparing to finish her fallen opponent. Snarling, Tymythy locked his eyes on his latest opponent and rushed forward.
