Tashtego glared at where he knew the beasts were that threw boulder after heavy boulder at them, wantin ta pounce an dismember them wit his bare hands. His horse, a pure black arabian beauty, sensin his wishes rose on its hind legs in anticipation a lettin loose its speed. "I'm goin ta put an end ta this RIGHT now!" he belted out ta the others. Her cautionary words, an her voice stayed him an his beast as she cried, "No, Tash!"


Lettin his motion an tempered steel nerves move from one object ta another, he watched as a boulder flew towards him an quickly guided his horse aroun the object an away from harm... It was nae like Tash ta walk away from a fight, but fair Lady Azaeli was right ... these were only pawns .. the real battle awaited o'er yonder ...


Sensin tha this Battle was it, the end game ... for him or his best friends? ... he hoped nae .. for Arcalan, whom he was about ta put out a her misery? ... tha was taken out o his hands ... for the foul darkness tha they rode towards? ... God willin ... he put his heels ta his horse hard, an rode full steam fer what he hoped would nae be the last battle he e'er faced. Takin his mace from his belt while his horse flew like the wind onward with the rest o his fellowship, and brandishin it in the air, he drew a huge breath an rang out his battle pledge fer the world ta hear, fer at least half o the valley had ta have heard it...."FOR LEXI!!!"

Her heart panged as Tash called out her sister's name with bravado. She couldn't help but feel something terrible had happened to Lexi. Did Tash know something tht she did not? She shrugged the doubt away and concentrated on the battle ahead. The best she could do for her sister now, for everyone, was to defeat this evil.


She slowed her horse's pace a bit and dropped back to ride beside Tobyas. No words were spoken, no glances exchanged, but the cleric's serene calm washed over her.


"For Pappa," she said, her voice barely audible over the pounding of horses' hooves, "For Justice!" As thier pace quickened through the winding valley, she drew her sword and called out a chant of protection over them all.

As they rode around the shore of the great lake, leaving the boulder flinging enemies behind them they noticed that even though it was nearing midday the sky was dark and overcast. Only glints of light got through and reflected upon the water here and there.


Arcalan sped up and took the lead, changing their direction slightly. She felt the presence of Astaroth keenly, and now she was searching for him.


Ayslyn saw it first, and then it became apparent to others. The immense black clad figure, shimmering half-in half-out of this world. The dreadful being stood upon the far hillside, among barren rock. The foul sigils carved into the visor glowed and writhed with energy.


As they rode forward it hit them like a wall. Astaroth's spell, an immense lifetap, pulling at them, sucking their lifeforce from their bodies. Tashtego's mount began to toss it's head violently. Azi's steed reared up, and the whole company was forced to stop to regroup. As they tried to regain control of the horses once more they felt their limbs weary and the blood grow thin in thier veins. Could they withstand this long enough to get close to Astaroth?

Azaeli's mount gave a last pitiful cry before it's knees buckled. It lay gasping on the ground, it's eyes rolling madly, kicking out if any approached it. A final shuddering breath marked it's passing from life.


Similarly the other mounts were wavering, at various stages of collapse. Toorc sent his running back from the power that assaulted it, and it galloped with a frenzied flight from that spell. Toorc himself began to wheeze and cough once more. The old Avalonian was having difficulty breathing. Crispian stood resolute despite the gnawing force, but one look at the company told him their odds were poor. Tobyas was visibly shaking, and Azi continued a chanting to keep them safe. Only Arcalan seemed little affected by the symptoms.


Suddenly everything changed. They all felt the oppressive weight lift. At the same moment they heard a lung bursting shriek as Arcalan fell to the ground clasping her hands at her chest. Her eyes were turning upward into her head, he lips and skin pale.


Astaroth had found his mark. All else was irrelevant.

The darkness closed in all about her.

One moment she'd been riding out to fight Astaroth, the next her companions had been struck by his magic... she'd hidden herself from his sight, from his spell. She knew how to avoid it, but of course they didn't and she'd never have had time to teach them.


Why had she revealed herself? Suddenly as she saw them stricken she'd dropped her guard, wanted to see what Astaroth could do, wanted him to focus on her. How powerful was this Master she'd served? Was he strong enough to grasp the world in that metal hand.. that Vessel she had helped bring into being? If so he would break her and consume her, but she'd not go without a fight.


Figures crowded around her shaking form, she was lying on the ground, Astaroth's spell was tearing her, ripping her out of that body.. she could see it now lying there, these people around her, trying to save the world from Astaroth... he was going to take her essence into his own, unite the forces, unify power within his own form....


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For a moment she regained composure, deathly pale and drained though she was.

"He can see.. see into your souls.... the future.. you must surround him.. force him to leave openings in his defence" she shrieked again as another spasm made its way through her body.

"I'll give him what he wants.. and what you need... an oppertunity.. GO!"


************************


The force she had kept inside her for so long, the golden energy that passed through the bonds of worlds and dwarfed the power of even the most powerful Cabalists in the Shadow Guild, this was what he sought.

Then she would give it to him, unleashed, full and terrible, all she had feared would overwhelm her, all that was dangerous and potent within it, and the mind, the dangerous mind behind that force, asleep for so long... take it all!


A beautiful oblivion seemed to overwhelm Arcalan, and as her own soul was almost torn from it's home she channeled the sleeping enegry, dove into it's golden red depths and awoke it.


*******************************


Toorc and Crispian gasped as they saw the golden form take shape... from Arcalan it flew towards Astaroth, that ethereal terror stalking towards them, unnatural blade in hand, snake-headed hilt visible.

The fire-bright energy coiled around Astaroth. Crispian and Toorc had seen it before, when the league first formed, made of a few defenders who had fought down the Midgard hordes, even though they were young in season and experience. That same light had flowed through the sky as the light failed, and lent strength and speed to their limbs. Troll warriors had been struck down by a flurry of superhuman blows from the hand of a mere lad, and at his side an elementalist had caused the ground to open and fold upon the shamans and berserkers alike.

Just as their fight ended so too did this light fade and fail, finding another home they knew not of till now. But each man and woman that day who had then formed the League felt strengthened and comforted by that event always, as though their true character had been tested and revealed to them.


Now the energy closed in about Astaroth. His arm threw up a terrible blazing purple darkness against it, but to no avail. he tried a spell against the prone and struggling Arcalan, but even as the energies for a curse formed they were scattered by the glowing bands.


Temporarily robbed of his magics, Astaroth stood facing the heroic company determined to slay him.

Seizing upon this one crucial and final moment, Tashtego drew his mace high, fit his shield taunt, set his teeth and battle mask, and charged! His strenth would be lent ta this battle wit his dyin breath if necessary, an he would do it happily fer his family both present an past.


He felt this Evil thins spell weaken an falter as the power of Arcalan gave battle, an so wit all the fervor, strenth an might he possessed, he struck his first blow at the terrible form wrapped in terrible armor. Blow after blow he swung, until this evil presence finally fixed his gaze upon him and swung wit his huge crushin iron fist. Seein the attack come a lil too late ta sidestep or parry it, all Tashtego could do was take it full on in his shield. The blow sent him flyin at least 10 feet half unconsious, his mace fallin away from his grasp as he hit the groun hard soundin like a tin can wit a bunch o rocks in it...his shields top was bent almost to a 90 degree angle, but it still functioned as a shield, an it took the blow meant ta crush him down well, so he clung ta it while he tryed desperately ta shake his head clear o its fog...


Lookin fer his mace while his friends engaged this Evil thin an findin it, as he bent down ta pick it up he felt his chest tighten an his eyes loose focus...he picked up his mace out of pure instinct only, an watched as his Gift brought forth its singular Light yet again this day...its brilliance shot forth ta his companions, whisperin ta them in their own minds tha each here would have His day won giving them a small token, in a fashion of their own makin, o His Power to see His Will done...Tash looked down at his mace, and watched it ignite with the Flame of God...Aleph, Yod, Uriel himself, bestowed this Gift, the Gift of Heart, upon Tashtego McGillavry so lon ago, an now he knew its Ultimate Purpose...The One Who Stands at the Middle Pillar of the Tree of Life extended the Gift of his own Sword ta Tashtego, an with it, his mace came ta life with His Power, a Flame of a most brilliant white sent ta cast the Darkness back whence it came...


Tash's chest relaxed an his breathin resumed...but there in his hand...its Brilliance called for his action, an so wit a new vigor, Tashtego sprung upon the foul Evil tha would dare ta step foot on his World an brought the battle ta it hard...His weapon cleaved hard at the armor, rendin it easily now...he parried the blows tha came his way, an continued ta bash away...stealin a glance at his fair Lady Azaeli fer the briefest o exchanges, he gave her a small smile as if ta say this battle would be won no matter the cost...quick parry, block, swing...he glanced at the others ta see how they faired in this battle... hard swing rendin armor an sigil inta slag...

With a few more whispered words, Ayslyn's mount surged to its feet. He smiled, and petted its neck. "There's a good lad," he said as he swung up into the saddle. He grinned as his mount pounded past Astaroth and he fired arrow after arrow, blazing streaks flitting across the sky, into him. An apparition floated behind him, of a redhaired woman, too fair to look upon for long. He hands rested upon his shoulders, and she spook words of encouragement in his ears. He laughed heartily and fired again, this time lodging an arrow up under the join between the underarm, and the breastplate.

 

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Crispian waded toward the fiend with firm and direct motion, his sword drawn and shield held firm. As always, his attentions were divided between his own assault, Azi to his left and Tobyas, who followed already murmuring prayers of healing and blessing.


Asteroth loomed larger as they moved to a circle around the huge crimson fgure. With the practice of having taken on countless foes of various creation, Crispian attacked. The first wide swing of the monolithic foe thudded with great force into his shield, causing a numbness to spread up his left arm. He brought his sword through in a riposte that struck home, but again the reveberation of the blow sent a numbing cold into him.


Tobyas chanted, praying with firm, loud voice. "Sancto Domine," his clear tone called, "grant us your power and speed in battle. Let us stand before the foe." His hands moved in ritual blessing, steady even as sweat ran down his face. As he voice quavered slightly, Azi struck with her massive two handed mace. It rang off the armor of the foe.


As Asteroth swung at her, he found again the barrier of Crispian's shield there, turning the crushing blow aside even as it drove the diminuitive armsman to a knee. The raised shield took the next blow again on the face, marring the symbol of tower and chevron. And again, Crispian's blade lashed out, striking the foe.

 

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Her heart raced as Tashtego's Gift pulsed in her. She swung a steady blow with her mace, landing it hard into the foul evil. With Crispian guarding her right side, and Tobyas healing behind them both, Azaeli felt secure in thier battle. She fell into the rhythm of it, landing one crushing blow after another with her archmace.


Her attacks, she knew, were mere dents and nicks against the towering presence, but she called out chants of battle and protection to aid her companions. Crispian blocked a jarring blow beside her and missed another, taking the brunt of Astaroth's attack. Azaeli gasped and held her ground as Tobyas shouted a prayer of healing, and Crispian gained his strength back.


Tashtego came to her left side, throwing up his mangled sheild in defense and pounding with fury at the form with his mace. An open hand came down upon him and glanced his shoulder, knocking him away from the fray. Azi clenched her jaw and struck again as Tobyas called out another prayer and dropped to the ground to rest.


Astaroth took notice of this weakness in thier attack and swung hard at Crispian, who threw up his sheild in defense. The blow struck the shield and knocked Crispian to the ground where he lay gasping for breath. Tobyas stood to heal again, but his strength was spent. Astaroth towered over Crispian, readying to deal a blow that would surely end his life.


"Rest!" Azi cried, not risking a glance to Tobyas. She raised her voice over the clash of battle, calling out a chant of healing over them all.


"No!" She wasn't certain if the warning came from Crispian or Tash or Tobyas but she persisted, crying out the chant even louder. Astaroth turned his attention to her and swung effortlessly. His blow caught her mace and tore it from her hands, sending a jarring shock through her as her weapon shattered into splinters. Ceowyr called out healing, and Crispian stood again and moved to Azi's side as Astaroth made another attack against her. She planted her feet and continued her chant nonetheless, drawing forth her mattock.


"Azi," Crispian's stern voice mixed with her chant as he fell back into battle beside her, "Stop!" His warning came too late. He blocked Astaroth's one hand just as the other hand raked into her, sending a chill jarring force through her. She gasped as she felt her feet leave the ground and her body soar through the air. With a sickening thud she landed a distance from battle. As her head cracked on the rocky ground, darkness fell over her.

/bump the good stuff to the top

A misty glow swirled around her. The sound of battle was far distant, muted by a sort of unseen curtain between this world and a world she'd visited only once before.


"Azi, my angel," a sweet voice played in her head. She felt a calming peace spread through her with the soft words. Azi peered into the pure white mist as a figure emerged. Her golden hair swirled around fine silver armor as she moved toward Azi with grace. A face that mirrored her own, though older, smiled at her. A slender hand reached out and caressed her cheek, and she felt Love wash over her.


"Ma.." Azi began to whisper, but a finger was brought to her lips to quiet her.


"I am so proud of you, my Azaeli. My paladin." A beaming smile lit her mother's face before she turned to face the sounds of battle. The shining mist drifted from itself, revealing Astaroth and the others in furious fray.


Azi peered out into murky gray, watching the others' valiant efforts. Finally, her gaze rested on her own body, lying on the rocky ground. Her mother drew closer, embracing Azi warmly. Warm, soft lips pressed her temple. "I will be with you, aiding you, my little Azi. This battle belongs to all who are good. You shall triumph."


Azi sucked in a violent breath and coughed. Battle sounds rang in her ears as she jolted upright. Her hand found the hilt of the sword she had with her always, her mother's sword, as she bolted to her feet. Her head was clear and her eyes flashed crystal blue with energy. Her body tingled with new strength as she raised her sword over her head and charged at Astaroth.


Her voice rose up over the fray in a strong battle chant, a wide smile breaking across her face. She charged between Crispian and Tash and landed a mighty blow into the vessel. Her sword flashed and hissed as it made contact, and her voice seemed to break into a laugh as her chant grew ever louder.