Chapter 8-3

Garkhen rode Zakhin'Dakh as they followed Tirel across fields and towards a large forest. Almonihah had insisted that Garkhen rest longer, rather than march on his own, and the half-blue dragon had reluctantly agreed. Tirel led the little group, trying to keep more to the low-lying areas so as to avoid sight. A few times they saw a farmer off in the distance, but no one ever troubled the odd (and dangerous-looking) group.

By night, they were again under the shade of trees, this time at the edge of a much larger forest. They had turned somewhat from the course Zakhin'Dakh had been flying before—they were further to the west, now, rather than heading south.

After Garkhen dismounted, Zakhin'Dakh collapsed on his side with a huge sigh. Almonihah looked over at him with a bit of amusement.

Tired, Zakhin'Dakh?

Not like walk, the big griffon replied.

Tirel looked surprised. “You can speak with him?”

Almonihah nodded slightly. “Understands Human, too.”

Zakhin'Dakh perked up and screeched happily, nodding.

The Wyre grinned. “Is that so, big guy? Well I'm sorry I didn't talk to you earlier! I'd just never met a griffon before.”

I smart griffon! Zakhin'Dakh interjected.

Tirel looked over at Almonihah. “What'd he say?”

“Said he's a smart griffon. 'nd he is.” He glanced between the two of them. “Not sure I want to translate a whole conversation, though.”

“Well... I suppose I'll just show you this, then,” Tirel said, grinning. Swiftly his form flowed and changed, until there was a large, grinning tiger looking up at the huge griffon.

Zakhin'Dakh shrieked in surprise, then 'oooooed'. That's cool!

Almonihah watched with less surprise. “So that's what it looks like.”

Tirel changed into his hybrid tiger-man form. “You'd heard of Wyre before, then?”

“Rangers 'nd druids I know 've talked about Wyre. Blessed of Naishia to take the shape of animals in defense of the land, 'nd all that. Thought there were hardly more 'n a few of you, though.”

“There aren't many of us. Maybe twenty here in Ferdunan, and nowhere else has as many Wyre. No one seems to know why there's so many of us here, though my guess is it's the recent war... and that Amulet.”

Almonihah nodded. “Makes sense.”

Suddenly a loud crash interrupted their conversation. Almonihah turned, hand on Eldereth's hilt, and saw that Garkhen had dozed off, the crash resulting from him falling over on his side as he had fallen asleep.

Of course, he was awake now, and he grinned sheepishly at his friends. “It would appear I am still rather fatigued, my friends.”

Tirel laughed. “I guess so! Maybe it's time we made camp.”  

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Griffons are made for flying, not walking!

Chapter 8-2

It took several days for Garkhen to recover enough to travel—several long, nervous, lean days, while Almonihah watched anxiously for signs of more Javni'Tolkhrah, and Zakhin'Dakh had to fly ever-further afield to find hunting grounds. Yet no more attacks came—not even some nervous warriors following the griffon back to the trees. The Amulet was quiet.

It all made Almonihah anxious.

“No way that thing's really being quiet,” he grumbled to Garkhen.

The Warder didn't have to ask what his friend was speaking about. “Perhaps it must recharge its power?”

Almonihah snorted. “No way we're that lucky.”

“And yet there is nothing we can do if it is somehow subtly preparing for another attack upon us, my friend, and so we had best plan our next move.”

“Mage's Guild. Ferd,” Almonihah growled. “More mages. 'Cause that worked so well.”

“There was a single traitor,” Garkhen began.

“That they found,” Almonihah growled back. He stood again, making an angry gesture with one clawed hand. “But we have no other options. So we'll just have t' try again.” He snorted.

“Almonihah...”

“I'm going,” the half-bronze dragon grumbled. “Just quit trying t' convince me to like 't.”

Garkhen sighed, but said nothing more. The argument had grown tired long ago. Instead, he stood up, and opened his mouth to speak.

“It's a good thing that griffon's around, or I would never have found you, Garkhen!”

The half-blue dragon jumped, recognizing the voice instantly. “Tirel?” He said, turning.

Almonihah had drawn his blades, and was looking at the unassuming-looking man who had just walked to the edge of their encampment. “Friend 'f yours?”

Garkhen nodded, smiling. “Yes, a good friend. We fought together briefly in the war, and sometime afterward.”

“And then you went and got new friends,” Tirel teased, grinning as he walked forward. “At least you look glad to see me.”

Garkhen's smile picked up an edge of a grin in return. “Always, my friend. But I should introduce you. Almonihah, Zakhin'Dakh, this is Tirel, a Wyre warrior of Naishia. Tirel, this is Almonihah the Ranger and his friend, Zakhin'Dakh.”

Almonihah relaxed a bit at the mention of Naishia, noting also the simple leather loop around his neck, much like the one around Almonihah's own neck that held the rampant unicorn symbol of Naishia. “Wyre, huh? Heard 'f you, but never met one.”

“Well until Garkhen here, I'd never met a half-dragon either. I guess we're both rare breeds,” Tirel replied, turning his grin on Almonihah.

The half-dragon grunted, sheathing his swords. “So you've been looking for him?” He said, nodding at Garkhen.

“For all of you,” Tirel said, his voice suddenly serious. “As soon as Whitepaw heard of what happened to the Rangers, she sent us out searching for you. I stopped by Elifort and... well, that's a nasty hole in the wall.”

“Whitepaw?” Almonihah asked.

“The leader of our little Pack, and a Druid,” The Wyre replied. “A powerful one, at that. She heard what Llitthos was able to determine, and... you really shouldn't be carrying that around uncovered.”

Almonihah snorted. “Wouldn't 'f I had a choice.”

“Well, she may be able to do something about that. What's more... well, she might be able to figure out a way to destroy it.”

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Hey, look! It's a familiar charcter! 

Chapter 8-1

Chapter 8: Sea

“Can't blame people for being afraid. Know I look scary, 'nd there're plenty of things in th' world t' be scared 'f. 'nd the whole Amulet thing didn't help. Still...”

Almonihah looked back at Elifort, just a hint of a snarl on his face. Oh, he could understand why they'd been thrown out... he could understand. But he didn't respect it. Of course, they hadn't gotten out of the city as fast as some would have wanted, what with an unconscious Garkhen to pick up and the safety of the Amulet to ensure.

Not that they'd been able to do much about the Amulet... Maritha had hastily put it in a small metal box and cast a spell over it, complaining all the while that there was no way it would even blunt the powerful magic of the artifact. Almonihah could almost feel it sitting in his pack, its accursed power questing outwards, seeking to... he didn't know what, but he was sure it was bad.

As for their destination... Maritha's hurried suggestion had been the Royal Mage's Guild at Ferd, the capital city. And so Zakhin'Dakh was flying south again, winging over the increasingly flat and settled lands away from the mountains. Almonihah tried to direct his friend's flight over the least inhabited parts of the land, but he was sure they were still making some farmers very nervous. At least they'd come through the capital before, so he hoped they'd be able to talk before getting thrown out.

For now, though, he was looking for a place to camp. After their battle earlier in the day, Zakhin'Dakh wasn't really in good shape for long-distance flying, and of course Garkhen could probably use some actual rest without getting jounced around by wing-beats. The forest over there would suffice...

“Let's head over there, Zakhin'Dakh,” he said to his big friend.

The griffon nodded his head and turned, gliding in to a tired landing in a clearing.

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Just a bit of connective tissue for the week.

Chapter 7-10

Heedless, the monsters dove in, driving themselves onto the pikes. One pike snapped under the force applied to it, but that monster fell dead with the pike head, its head pierced through. The other two survived their insane dives, taking wounds to the shoulders instead. The soldiers dropped their pikes and drew short swords, forming up between the two spellcasters and the two Javni'Tolkhrah.

The two Javni'Tolkhrah—one a vaguely feline beast with bat-like wings, the other more reptilian—sprang at the soldiers. One of the men was borne down by his foe's weight, screaming as it tore at his face. The other two soldiers managed to fend off the other with their swords, in spite of its frenzied efforts to reach those they were guarding. Finally one soldier stabbed his sword through one of the Madness-Touched's eyes, ending its life.

The other, however, charged towards Garkhen... or more accurately, towards the pack on his back. Unable to force himself to move, the half-dragon could only watch as it leaped at him, claws outstretched. It impacted him with a great crash, knocking him on his side as it bit at his pack.

Then came a loud shriek-roar, as Zakhin'Dakh dove from above on the remaining monstrosity. Garkhen gritted his teeth as his armor withstood another impact, glad for its impossible toughness once again.

The huge griffon made short work of the distracted beast, then pushed its corpse aside to check on his little half-blue dragon friend. Garkhen was unconscious (again), but breathing.

Almonihah landed just then, looking over the scene. He saw that the Javni'Tolkhrah were all dead, nodded, and then turned to Zakhin'Dakh.

Keep watch here. I'll see if the walls still need help, he said in Great Eagle.

The big griffon nodded as his friend took off again. Almonihah flew back towards the wall, noting that he didn't hear any further shouting. As he neared he could tell that all the Javni'Tolkhrah he could see weren't moving, which he took to be a good sign.

He came in to a landing near where the Guard Captain was ordering about some of his men. He looked over at the half-dragon, his face contorting into a mask of anger.

“GET OUT!” The Captain shouted. “Leave my city! Take that accursed amulet and never come back!”

Without a word, Almonihah took off and flew back towards his friends.

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This was a hard chapter for me to write. I knew, when I neared this point in the story, that it had to happen, but I hadn't really planned out the how, which turned out to be a problem. But it's done now. 

No post this week

Between homework and wanting to goof off after homework (etc. etc.) I just haven't put together enough of a post to bother putting up here.

So instead, look at this new picture of Garkhen! :) http://varaann.deviantart.com/art/Clash-of-Light-and-Dark-558135301

Chapter 7-9

Zakhin'Dakh didn't fully understand the danger of the amulet... but he knew his friends thought it was bad, and that was enough for him. As soon as his first target was dead, he took off again, trying to catch another of the Javni'Tolkhrah. Unfortunately, those that were still alive were mostly the fastest among them, and it looked like he wouldn't reach any of them before they got where they were going.

Gritting his teeth, Almonihah forced himself to move, to aim, to fire. The angle and distance were only getting worse for hitting his targets, but there was no way he'd catch up to them. But he had to stop them, of that he felt certain. So he stood and fired, ignoring the shouting on the wall behind him.

Most of his arrows missed or caused only minor wounds, but one managed to cut part of one of the beasts' wings, slowing it. Zakhin'Dakh saw this and angled his flight slightly, managing to catch up to it. So focused was it on its goal that the huge griffon caught it completely off-guard, which made it easy prey for his talons.

But four more Madness-Touched still flew on. They turned slightly and dove, angling towards a building near the courthouse... and then there was a huge explosion of fire. One more of the monstrosities dropped from the air, but the other three continued their dive.

Archivist Maritha watched them with fear clear on her face. She was no trained battle-mage—she'd learned the classic fire spell as much out of tradition as anything else, with no expectation of ever using it. And now... well, she had only prepared for casting one. She heard Garkhen clanking out of the building behind her, but she doubted in his condition he'd be able to do anything.

Garkhen gritted his teeth as he called on Bahamut. He knew he was still drained from his past efforts, but there was no longer a choice. He threw up a ward... in midair.

The first Javni'Tolkhrah slammed headfirst into an invisible wall, and Garkhen groaned, falling to his knees as the effort to maintain the spell-prayer drained what little energy he'd managed to recover. He dropped the ward, and the Javni'Tolkhrah dropped also, clearly killed by the force of its impact, but three more followed it.

Almonihah swore under his breath as he ran. He'd already lost sight of them, and he didn't know what had happened with that explosion. Probably the mage had some magic, but the lack of more explosions didn't seem like a good sign to him. 

As the Javni'Tolkhrah descended, Garkhen tried to force himself back to his feet, to summon forth the energy for another spell-prayer... anything, but he could not. Next to him, Maritha was desperately chanting one last spell, though he knew not what it was. It was all he could do to force his head up, so that he might at least gaze upon his foes as they fell upon him.

Maritha finished her chanting, and held up her hands. For a moment nothing happened, but then a chair flew out of the open door behind them. Then another, and another, followed by a table and various other pieces of furniture. They flew into the air and started beating on the descending Javni'Tolkhrah. While it didn't stop them, it did slow them down, as they tried to evade the assorted objects trying to strike them.

Then came the clatter of armor as a trio of soldiers came around the corner. Hastily they ran over to the pair, readying their pikes awkwardly to face the diving monsters.

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I forget how long combats take to write sometimes. Particularly when I'm not writing a lot at once.

Chapter 7-8

The guards on the walls looked rather nervous at having a giant griffon land behind them. Sheepishly, Zakhin'Dakh waved at them, but that didn't seem to calm their nerves.

“He's with us,” an officer called out. “Keep your eyes on the threat!”

Again Zakhin'Dakh took off, flying up to see what was coming. He screeched softly in surprise at the sight—even more Javni'Tolkhrah than they'd fought in the Madlands, charging and flying towards the walls of the city in a disorganized horde. Not the kind of thing for a single griffon to go charging into. Instead he circled above the walls, waiting for the right chance to strike.

Almonihah reached the walls just as a voice cried out, “Fire!” He didn't take the time to run up the stairs, instead leaping into the air, taking a couple flaps of his wings to reach the top of the wall. Then he brought his own bow to bear, blasting sizzling arrows into the mass of Javni'Tolkhrah rushing at the walls.

They were close now, or at least their vanguard was. They'd only grown more disorganized as they'd charged, and by now those that could fly were a few hundred yards in front of those who could not. Most of the archers were focusing on these ones, and a couple fell before they reached the walls.

Now Zakhin'Dakh saw his chance, for they were completely ignoring him. He flew up higher, then dove on one of the largest just as it reached the wall of the city. It tried to dodge him, but that only brought his true target in reach—its wing. He plowed into the wing with all his might, snapping bone and tearing the flesh. It tumbled from the air, smashed into the wall, then dropped to the ground, dead. Zakhin'Dakh narrowly averted a similar fate, the tips of his wings tapping bows and helmets as he flew over the wall.

In spite of the casualties, there were still a good half-dozen of the Madness-Touched that still lived to fly over the wall. They ignored the guards, instead heading towards...

“Zakhin'Dakh! They're headed for th' amulet!” Almonihah shouted. He turned and continued his barrage of arrows, quietly praying that none of his stray shots landed on someone in the city.

The big griffon shrieked a challenge as he attacked the nearest monstrosity he could reach, one with eagle's wings like his own but a body much more like a giant warthog's. It tried to slash at him with oversized tusks, but it was smaller than Zakhin'Dakh, and he soon brought it to the ground.

In the confusion, the ground-bound Javni'Tolkhrah had neared the walls. By now the Guard Captain had asserted control over his men, and he shouted, “Pikes!” Just in time, the guards turned back outwards, polearm-equipped men bracing their weapons as the most agile of the Madness-Touched leaped up onto the walls.

In this they succeeded mostly in impaling themselves upon the weapons... but even in death, they brought misery. One with a stinger sprouting from its back impaled its killer back as it died, both dropping to the ground almost at once.

Another... exploded.

The detonation had such force as to knock men off their feet more than a dozen yards away, including Almonihah. The half-bronze dragon was thrown entirely off of the wall, and he reflexively opened his wings as he fell. That bought him a softer landing, but he still felt bruised and dazed as he shakily got back to his feet. Behind him he could hear the shifting of stone and men shouting, but he put it aside. Whatever else happened, he had to stop those flying Javni'Tolkhrah from reaching the amulet. 

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Apologies for the late post! Hopefully it was worth it.

I didn't realize this chapter was going to be so long. Maybe I should have split it up...