Wrath of the Righteous Part 14- The Ungrateful Savior
Talongaard spun the flail above his head deftly, conjuring the wreath of flame- a legacy of his father. He was two steps away when the elven woman lost her step and tumbled to the ground. She nimbly fell and rolled so as to release her baby in a rolling bundle that caused it no harm and sent it spinning half hidden under a shrub. It was a desperate gambit he knew, one quite likely to fail under the scrutiny of an orc’s keen sense of smell, but she had a fading hope that it may succeed. The half-demon could see the doubt clearly in her mind, she hoped fervently that while the orc was doing it’s worst to her that it would completely forget about her child. She prayed briefly to the gods of her kind that it would not cry despite the horrific fate that was about to befall her and, thus, be saved. Talongaard knew what the orc intended and a last great stride landed him beside the despicable creature.
Unsurprised the orc turned it’s massive great axe on him in a wide destructive arc and Talongaard ducked beneath it with inhuman deftness despite his heavy armor. He did not have the massive strength of his sister and could not hope to block such ferocious blows, but he kept his flaming flail spinning and sent it in a retort towards the orc’s face. The beast drew his axe back defensively but far too slowly. The spiked ball exploded in a shower of fire and gore when it connected with his face and the orc dropped dead to the ground beside his intended victim.
Talongaard in his haste did not realize a second orc had pursued him until the axe cracked off of the back of his armor, deflecting from one of the sharp spikes. The force of the unexpected blow almost knocked him to his knees. His gray armor could not be breached by crude orcish iron he knew, but still he growled in personal shame at his carelessness. His father would have subjected him to several lashes for such a lapse. Just the thought of the punishments he endured in the past for such oversights lit a rage in him. He spun in a spiral to face his new enemy smashing the spikes prevalent along the forearm of his armor into the creatures wrist, impaling it and driving it wide. The orc howled in surprised alarm until a split second later when Talongaard had drawn his flail around in a lethal punishing strike to the foul creature’s head. In an instant the vile thoughts drained from the demon’s mind like an emptied bath tub.
He turned his black eyes to the elven woman he had saved and sensed that her fear had not yet subsided. She stared at him in horror taking in his iron clad, spiked, gray visage entirely as his father had intended. He sighed and lowered the bloody flail, willing the flames about it to flicker and fade to nothingness. Without even offering a hand, he knew she would not take, to help her up from the dirt, he turned his back on her and her child and walked back towards the diminishing sounds of battle and his sister.
Kyra was wiping the blood from her great sword with the remains of an orcish cloak when he returned to her. All the remaining orcs lay dead in a circle around her, including two corpse flanking her, one headless, the other nearly cut in half across the middle. When she cast her beaming eyes across his sad face she gasped in panic, “The woman and her child did we…”
He waved his spiked gauntlet at her dismissing the question. “They are saved. To what purpose I am unsure.”
She looked at him incredulously. “To what purpose? You can’t be serious.”
Talongaard stared at her with a seriousness that left little doubt and caused her to shudder briefly beneath his dead stare. “I saved her and the infant and she looked upon me with the same contempt that she had form them. I was no better than an orc in her eyes.” He kicked an orc corpse distastefully. “So for what I say? I had better treatment at the hands of my father’s fiends for a job well done.”
Kyra sheathed her sword in the great holster across her back trying to let the judgment fade from her own gaze. “Some times good deeds are their own reward.”
He snorted derisively. “What reward would that be? Contempt from creatures I try to help? Do you have any idea where she is now?”
Kyra shrugged, she had been startled when he had not brought the elves back with him. “Amongst the trees where our kind is most comfortable with her baby, still alive and no doubt grateful for the lives you have given her.”
He closed his dark eyes and his brow creased as he reached out with his mind once again. Without opening his eyes he pointed back to the trees from where he had come. “Three hundred yards that way, in full sprint, her intent is to gather archers of her people to slay me. How very appreciated I should feel for my efforts.”
Kyra was silent for a few moments before speaking. “Talon, she has been through a difficult time… look at her friends. Look at what happened here, what almost happened to her baby.”
His eyes flickered open as he let the thoughts go. “I did see what happened here and know cleared that either of you what was going to happen. I stopped it and now I am to be killed by the very person I thought to help.”
“I am certain that it will not come to that.” Kyra stated unconvincingly as she watched the trees closely. She knew well the prowess of elven archers, her mother’s people.
Her brother snarled viscerally, “I should have left her to her fate!”
“And the baby?”
Talongaard froze for a moment, for that was the crux of his dilemma, but then his pragmatism returned and his voice fell back to a whisper. “People die all the time. He would have been no different. I have seen even child souls in the Abyss. He would have been no different.”
Kyra suppressed her gasp, walked up behind him and with great caution found a place on his shoulder to place her hand between the infinite spikes of his armor. “Talon you are not like that.”
All the while she uttered a silent prayer to Iomedae that her brother was not like that.