Servants of Destiny (Chapter Five)

Chapter Five

When Greater Powers Combine

            Ignatious Stockholm, Hina Hinas, and Timothy Vandross took their time as they proceeded westward along the main trade road, none of them precisely anxious to get another confrontation underway.  Of the three, however, Timothy stood out in his thoughts, for through him passed the wind of curiosity, a breeze of gentle implications that he found fascinating beyond measure.  Imagine, he thought, creatures from another world!  Oh, they must be strange and grotesque for certain, but the possibilities of realities other than this?  Well worth getting a look at something unkind or horrible!

            The only breeze Stockholm or Hina felt was the western wind blowing in their faces lightly as they passed out of the woods and out into the flatlands west of the Tiverski home and property.  Each had their own inner workings at the moment, much like Timothy, but neither one was exactly optimistic about the near future.  In Stockholm, a rotting, festering pile of doubts and cautions blared through his mind, an out of control autocart bearing a black banner with the words ‘DANGER’ and ‘CAUTION’ in bright red lettering.  In Hina’s mind’s eye, these thoughts took the form of a monstrous, shapeless shadow with crimson eyes the exact shade of blood. 

            A chill suddenly shot up Stockholm’s spine as the trio approached the bottom of a sloping hill.  His nostrils could detect various scents that remained foreign even to him, and that said a lot to him about what could be found over the crest of this hill.  He stopped in his tracks and held a cautionary hand back to both mages.  “Dismount the horses.  They’re trustworthy steeds, and should stay put.”

            “Trouble ahead?”  Hina and Timothy could both sense the wrongness of the air nearby, though neither could smell it, and Hina voiced her observation first. 

            “Indeed.  Remember, do not draw your weapons in blind aggression.  We may be fortunate enough to encounter something non-hostile, though I doubt it.  Regardless of what we find, the two of you will need to help me deal with anything we come across, and then you’ll need to guard me while I close the rift.”

            “Are you sure this rift as you call it will be plainly visible,” Timothy asked.  Stockholm blinked rapidly twice, not having considered the possibility that he would have to search for the tear in the fabric of his reality.  If he indeed had to, if he couldn’t see it clearly, did he not run the risk of falling himself through the portal and into another world?

            “I hadn’t thought of that,” he admitted after another moment’s hesitation.  “I imagine it will be, though.  It requires an act of enormous power to tear open reality, I imagine, and that should leave a mark.  You should both bring your mana to bear, just in case,” he added, turning from the mages and facing west again.  He led the three up the hill over springy grass and through beds of wild growing flowers, all the way to the top of the hill.  As they approached the crest of the hill, however, it was Timothy, using the spell of Farhearing, who noted something amiss.

            “There’s already someone fighting,” he said suddenly, stopping the trio dead in their tracks.  They were just on the east side of the hill’s crest, and would soon be able to see what was occurring at the rift.  “I can hear a struggle, someone using bladed weapons on flesh and bone,” Timothy said, his ears twitching as he listened to the distanced battle.  “We should hurry,” he said, sprinting ahead of Hina and Stockholm.  The Red Tribesman reached out to stop him, shouting his name after him.  He gave up and pursued instead.

            What he came to see at the rise of the hill was certainly not what he expected.  He did indeed see a struggle between several creatures, though he knew nothing of any of the foreign creatures aside from their appearances.  There appeared to be a man, about one hundred and fifty yards downhill from him, Timothy and Hina, struggling to fend off nearly a dozen insect-like creatures of enormous length and girth.  The insect-things appeared to be carnivorous centipedes, each with dozens of thick, orange legs protruding from their purple shelled hides, and they were rearing up and slashing at a single man who stood in their midst.  The man himself had what looked like three long, metallic claws on the back of his blue gloves, and he darted in and out among the centipede beasts, slashing and hacking where he could. 

            Three large insects already lay in ribbons around the man, and even from this distance, Stockholm could tell that though this man was a foreigner to his reality, he was a kindred spirit.  He wore a yellow and blue body suit of some sort, with a mask on over his head portraying a fierce countenance.  It was a mostly yellow head covering, but it had a blue circular patter from just under the man’s jaw to two pointed horns, presumably part of his headgear.  As Stockholm led Timothy and Hina down the hill, both mages summoning up the proper mana for their first spells of attack, the Red Tribesman could make out the scents of sweat and beer on the fighting man, and the stench of rot and disease from the insect beasts. 

            The trio closed the distance, and Hina could hear the stranger’s battle cries and roars of fury as he was repeatedly struck and slashed from all sides, refusing to go down for an easy kill.  Such iron will, she thought, thrilled herself at the prospect of the onrushing battle.  Her thrill quickly turned to dismay, however, as one of the long purple creatures turned its eyeless face in the trio’s direction, and loosed an inhuman moan of aggression.

            “Be ready for them,” Stockholm shouted, drawing his battle axe.  In an odd moment of clarity, he looked at the one head of his axe, and wondered why he hadn’t stopped to clean Churiya’s gore from the edge.  No matter, he thought blithely, charging the insect beast that began streaking toward them.  Shit those things are fast, he thought.  Rumbling along on its dozens of legs, the centipede monster closed the gap to within twenty yards, and thankfully for Stockholm, he didn’t need to slow down.  Timothy had things covered.

            “Fist Of Tornadus,” Timothy bellowed, punching his fist into the air toward the oncoming creature.  A tunnel of whirling white wind streamed from his elbow down to his knuckles, and exploded off with a sonic boom.   The streak of energy transformed on its way to the target, turning into a sort of spiritual fist roughly the size of a small hut, slamming into the insect beast with such force that it blasted the creature cleanly in half.  The centipede beast’s dark, brackish blood sprayed in every direction as it lost momentum and let out another moan, this one of tremendous pain.  It twitched only a little as Stockholm ran past it on the right.  It was deader than a doornail. 

            Hina ran along a few yards to Stockholm’s right, keeping pace and holding off the majority of her spell casting until she got closer to the main body of the insect forces.  “Element Shift,” she muttered, selecting the power of wind for her offensive spells.  She, Stockholm and Timothy, lagging slightly behind, were now only thirty yards away from the stranger and the majority of the insect creatures, and each struck in his and her own fashion.  “Stretch Scope,” Hina muttered next to herself, widening the effect of her next spell.  She stopped running, planted her feet, and clutched her right wrist with her left hand, holding her hand like a cannon.  She extended her fingers skyward, revealing her palm toward one cluster of the creatures, four in total.  Gods, she thought, let this hit all four of them!  “Greater Raybolt, Wind Element,” she cried out.

            The lancing beam of her Greater Raybolt spell, widened by the Stretch Scope spell, blasted the four insect beasts fully in their flanks, sending them screaming through the air, away from the melee.  They appeared to be bleeding only slightly, and Hina knew that though effective, her own version of Timothy’s assault was going to take a few extra shots to get the job done in this battle.

            Stockholm leaped through the air, landing on the back of one of the creatures as it reared up to strike at the costumed stranger from another world.  He brought his axe down with both hands into the eyeless face of the creature, but his weapon only dug in a few inches at best.  “Shit, these things are nasty,” he said, feeling the slippery back of the creature through his boots.  The insect beast thrashed and writhed, moving away from its initial pray to get more room to work with, but Stockholm wasn’t going to have any of that.  Twice more he brought his axe down on the creature’s face, finally hitting pay dirt after the third overall strike.  Blood sprayed in a jet from its broken head, and Stockholm leaped off of it and landed in a three-point stance next to the costumed man.  “Thought you could use a little help,” he said to the stranger.

            “Thanks, bub,” the costumed man said, pressing his back to Stockholm’s.  Together, the two of them slashed and hacked at their adversaries, the Werewolf with his axe and Fist of the Breaker, the stranger with his two clawed gloves.  Timothy finally arrived at the main battle, and did his part, lancing three more Fist of Tornadus spells into the insect beasts.  Hina used her Amplify spell, then her Stretch Scope, and finally her Greater Raybolt, finishing off the creatures she’d struck from before, who were returning to the fray.

            Within scant minutes the ground around them was stained black with the likely poisonous life blood of the insect beasts, and the trio stood before the costumed stranger, whose wounds were already regenerating.  Stockholm had pegged the man as a Human; now, with such swift regenerative powers, he wasn’t entirely certain.  Only Timothy and Hina appeared winded, but Stockholm knew by looking at them that they both had plenty of energy and power yet to spare.  Stockholm took a step toward the costumed stranger as the man retracted the claws on his strange gloves, and reached into a compartment on his belt.  He withdrew a cigar, and a match, and promptly lit the cigar with a large puff.

            “I am sorry that we did not make proper introductions,” said Stockholm on behalf of his company.  “I am Ignatious Stockholm.  With me are the gentleman Timothy Vandross, and the young lady Hina Hinas,” he said, indicating each with a gesture of his hands.  “I hate to presume such a thing, but you are not from our world, are you stranger?”

            “Boy, give the man a gold star,” mocked the stranger in a gruff voice more suited to the role of drill sergeant than wanderer in Stockholm’s opinion.  “Yeah, you could say I’m not from around these parts, eh?”  Timothy had heard a similar adage in his time, that little ‘eh’ at the end of a statement, but he couldn’t be certain where.

            “Do you recall how you came to be here,” Stockholm asked, scanning the surroundings for some sign of the rift.  He quickly located it, a ripple more than an actual tear in the air itself, but there issued from the rift also a strange, warbling noise of some sort, like a low groan.  He had spotted it and, thankfully, there didn’t appear to be any more creatures around it.  Still, if the rift had appeared some time ago, wouldn’t the denizens of other worlds have traveled, as had the creatures that the Tiverski brothers had dealt with? 

            “Yeah, I remember just fine,” the stranger groused.  “I was taking a hike out in the woods, doing some basic survival training for myself.  I like doing that sort of thing,” the man said, rather defensively, Hina thought.  “I’m just hiking along, minding my own and stalking a pair of elk that I thought might make a good dinner, when I heard something like that thing,” he said, pointing right toward the rift that neither Timothy nor Hina could see.  “It was a high-pitched whine, almost as high as a dog whistle,” he said, waiting a moment before continuing. 

            “Something the matter,” Timothy asked. 

            “Well, no, not really,” said the costumed stranger.  “You guys don’t seem to have any trouble expecting a guy to hear a dog whistle.  Seems a tad odd to me,” he said.

            “No offense, sir,” said Stockholm, turning his attention from the rift back to the stranger.  “But I hear them all the time.  Comes with being a Werewolf,” he said.

            “So that’s not a suit or something,” the stranger asked, pointing at Stockholm.  “Most guys I run with, they wear costumes like that sometimes.  You’re a real Werewolf?”

            “Indeed,” said Stockholm.  “Is that strange to you?”

            “No, not really,” said the stranger.  “Not when you consider the things I’ve seen in my time.”

            “Were there any others with you when you came through,” Tim asked, getting back on task.  “Any other people aside from those insect things?”

            “Yeah, a couple,” said the costumed man, puffing on his cigar.  “Can’t say as I knew any of them, but most just turned back around and headed through that thing,” he said.  Now that he pointed to the rift a second time, Timothy and Hina had an inkling of where it stood, suspended in the air a few feet off the ground.  “I would have too, but then those things came through with a bigger friend.”

            “There’s another one of those things around,” Hina asked, scanning her surroundings swiftly.

            “Not precisely, but it was ugly all right,” said the stranger.  “Nasty looking thing, but it didn’t seem interested in me, and it headed that way,” he said, pointing north.  “If you’re thinking of going after it, I’d think again.  No offense, but I don’t think even you guys can handle it, and you seem okay.”

            “We have no choice,” said Stockholm.  “It has been a pleasure meeting with you, stranger.  Unfortunately, I must ask you to return to your world, through the rift,” he said, extending a hand to the costumed man.  The stranger took it, and shook.  Curiously, Stockholm could feel the man’s hand right through the glove, and he knew instinctively that the claws did not come from the gloves, they came from the man himself. 

            “Hey, I’m not exactly crazy about the idea of sticking around, eh?  I got to head back anyhow.  Scott and the professor will be expecting a contact from me soon anyhow,” the man said. 

            “I never got your name,” Stockholm said.

            “Not important now, now is it,” said the costumed stranger, heading off for the rift.  With a loud suctioning sound, he vanished into the rift thirty yards away from the trio, who slowly approached it.  Stockholm felt the mark on his snout blaring to life, and he knew that he would be exhausted almost entirely by what he needed to do.  He instructed Timothy and Hina to stand watch over him while he sealed the rift, which he began to do first by chanting in a tongue unknown to Hina and Tim.  Young Vandross noted, however, that the words seemed to have a power of their own, and listening to them gave him a severe headache after a few minutes.

            Stockholm knew from talking to the stranger that he’d spoken the truth; the only things left in this world would have to be destroyed.  Those beings wishing to return to their home worlds would already have done so, he reasoned, and he was assured of this as he chanted the ancient incantation, for none of the gods interrupted him.  With a clap of his hands, he channeled the healing powers of his spirit into the fabric of the rift, bringing it closed.  A thunderclap boomed from the rift as it sealed shut, and Stockholm blacked out, his last grip on consciousness lost.

            Timothy looked around the landscape, and sincerely hoped that whatever beast still waited north of them, it would wait until the Red Tribesman was awake again before making a move on them.

            The afternoon swiftly ran into early evening, the last vestiges of the clear day’s light twinkling out at around what Timothy could only assume was around seven o’clock.  He and Hina built a small fire, close to Stockholm that he might receive some of its heat, if not some of the stew that Hina was quickly preparing for herself and Timothy.  The young Void Mage kept checking on the Red Tribesman, each time coming away with a good pulse and a solid rate of respiration.  The man was simply exhausted, it seemed.

            “I’m slowing you down, you know,” Hina said after she ladled some of the stew into a bowl for Tim.  “My spells aren’t nearly as powerful as what you have.  I’d have to use nothing but my Ancient spells to really keep up,” she said sullenly.

            “That’s not true,” said Timothy.  He knew what Hina was thinking, and he wanted none of it; she wanted to go back home, because she felt weaker than Tim and Stockholm.  He wouldn’t accept such an idea, because he had grown far too fond of her, and the idea of traveling alone with the Red Tribe Werewolf was rather frightening.  “You’re very clever in your use of Q magic,” he said, paying her an honest compliment.  She blushed slightly, turning her eyes away from him and onto her own meal.  “I’m quite serious!  How many Q Mages would you say think to combine their spells in the way that you do?  And you’ve even locked a few spells on your sword already for the next battle, haven’t you?”

            “Well, yes, there is that I suppose,” she said, thankful for the positive reinforcement.  She did in fact entertain the idea of giving up and leaving the party earlier, when they were fighting the insect beasts. 

            “And aside from that, you’re very knowledgeable,” Tim added, spooning food into his mouth slowly as he spoke.  “You knew what those disgusting spider-things were back before we made it to Desanadron.”

            “Terarachnids,” she said, sending a shiver up Tim’s spine.  The spider beasts had thoroughly disgusted him, as any arachnid did.  “And I know a great deal of Q spells, Tim.  Not all of them seem to be of great use in combat, though.”

            “Life and travel isn’t all about fighting,” said Timothy, searching Hina’s eyes with his own earnest glance.  “You’re the one who found Churiya, and you didn’t have to stick your neck out to do it.  You used the Haste spell to get us through the city very swiftly,” he added.  “And although I’ve learned several of your spells, don’t forget that I need to use more mana to cast spells than you do, because of the nature of my magic.  I only have a handful that I learned on my own,” he admitted.

            “Really?”

            “Yeah,” Tim said, finishing his bowl and setting it aside.  “Most of the spells I took the time to learn on my own are relatively useless outside of the home,” he said, leaning back on the palms of his hands.  The soil and grass of the area was soft and springy, giving it a nice amount of give.  It felt cool to the touch, and he tested the air with his tongue, an old trick his mother had taught him.  He didn’t predict any rain for the night, so a bedroll would do them just fine.  No need for a tent, he thought, and that’s good, because I’m bushed.  “Hey, one of us should get some sleep.  I’ll keep the first watch,” he offered.  Hina thanked him, and got tucked into her own bedroll.  Timothy had placed one of his own blankets over Stockholm when he passed out, so two of the trio were soundly asleep and warm.

            That stranger said there was something to the north of us, Timothy thought.  I wonder, though, what it looks like.  Focusing his mana and concentrating his attention to the north, Timothy used the Q Mage spell of Farsight, streaming his vision miles to the north.  When he found his query, he quickly regretted it, for now he had time to mull over the possibility of having to fight such a beast.

            The creature in question towered at around twelve feet from its paws to its broad shoulders.  It appeared to be a wolf of some sort, all black and edged, metallic fur sprouting from its flanks.  It bore three heads, each snout as eyeless as the insect creatures they had staved off before.  Two red lines ran along each flank, and it appeared to be sniffing the air heavily, searching for something to eat in a grove of trees only three miles north of their camp. 

            Over the beast’s back, there appeared to be a black orb of some sort, pulsating with a soft orange light which glimmered and then flowed down into the creature itself.  The legs, Timothy thought, scanning his vision in closer to the ground, something isn’t right about the legs.  For starters, he realized, there were six legs, a number not usually found on such creatures.  Secondly, he noticed, the forepaws appeared to end in humanoid hands, not canine paws.  Thickly muscled and gleaming in the light of the moon, the monster appeared to be quite ferocious.

            Timothy drew his Farsight spell back, and tried to properly gauge the distance between the beast and their camp.  Four miles, he thought, not three.  Still, if the creature could somehow see without eyes, it would surely notice their campfire if it got close enough.  And then, of course, it would attack them.  Timothy Vandross, despite his proximity to the fire, shivered with a sickening cold coiling around his body and spirit.

            “The task is not complete,” said a voice somewhere in the darkness of Stockholm’s thoughtless dream.  It was familiar, all too familiar; Oun, he thought.  “There is one other beast that must be felled before you move on.”

            And where might this beast be, Stockholm thought into the blank, black void of his inner thoughts. 

            “It is north of you, and it will be approaching your position soon, we believe,” said the voice of Oun.  “Young Timothy has seen it already, and he is very afraid.  We believe the three of you can handle it, however.”

            You sound so enthusiastic about our chances, Stockholm thought with as much sarcastic vitriol as he could muster. 

            “Do not use that tone with me,” called Oun in a commanding voice.  “Do not forget that we can strip you of your Fist of the Breaker.”

            It belongs to me by right, thought Stockholm vehemently. 

            “Yes, but remember that for now, you belong to us,” replied Oun in a cool, arrogant voice.  “Destroy the creature and proceed to the next mark on your map.  It is in the east, many days’ travel by horse.  Even with young Ms. Hinas’s Haste spell, the trip will take you five or six days.”

            Got a quick question for you before I wake up, Stockholm thought into the darkness, which was brightening by the second.  Who was that fellow from before, the guy in the weird costume?

            “I am afraid that we do not have an answer to that question.  He comes from a reality that our Death does not preside over.  That being the case, we have no way of knowing.  Why do you ask?”

            Oh, I was just curious.  Guy seemed pretty strong for such a short fellow, Stockholm thought.  I suppose I should wake up now, huh?

            “That would be for the best.”

            When Stockholm sat up like a bolt of lightning, Timothy nearly screamed, jumping half out of his own skin.  “Gods above for on and on, you scared the shit out of me,” the half-Elf said in a timid voice.  Stockholm tossed aside the blanket that was covering him, and tried to gauge the time by the lunar light.  He guessed it to be around midnight. 

            “Have you rested at all,” he asked Timothy.

            “No, not as yet,” Tim said.  “But I’ve got some food in me and meditated for a few minutes, so I’m good for now.  I was about to wake Hina up for her watch.”

            “Get her up, but keep your wits about you youngster,” Stockholm growled.  He took a sniff of the air; something large, to the north, and approaching.  Something that smelled of steel and musk, with a faint hint of Lizardman blood smeared over top.  “We have uninvited company coming,” Stockholm warned.

            “Yes, about that,” Tim said, gently nudging Hina awake.  She rubbed her bleary eyes, but overall she felt just fine after four hours of uninterrupted sleep.  She thanked Tim for waking her, and left her bedroll out for Tim to use.  He waved off her offer, and explained quickly and quietly the situation to her.  Her short sword was out of its scabbard almost immediately.  Tim turned back to Stockholm, who also had his weapon at the ready.  “About that guest, Mr. Stockholm.”

            “You can call me Stocky,” he offered, not taking his eyes away from their northward direction.  He could feel the creature’s approach subtly through the ground.  Whatever it was, it was massive.

            “Well, it’s just that I’ve already gotten a look at it with a Farsight spell, and things don’t look too good,” Tim said.  He launched into a quick description of the beast, after which Stockholm and Hina were left to mull over their odds. 

            “Hmm, it smells of Lizardman blood too, and not just a little of it,” said Stockholm, adding to Hina’s already sizable lump of doubts.  “We’ll have to exercise caution with this foe.  Timothy, do you know any healing spells?”  Tim nodded, bringing his mana to bear, as did Hina.  “Good.  Have them ready to cast once the fighting gets started.  Don’t worry about me, I’m a Werewolf.  I regenerate wounds, and I’ve also got my own healing powers.  Concentrate on keeping yourself and Hina free of injuries as much as possible, got it?”  Timothy nodded.

            “Shield of Force,” Hina murmured, summoning up a bubble-like barrier to protect herself from physical attack.  She performed the spell twice more, adding more protection to Timothy and Stockholm, of which both felt grateful.  The beast in question was approaching ever nearer, and now Tim and Hina could both feel the vibrations in the ground from its progress.  “Larger than the insects, but still, how could it weigh so much,” Hina wondered aloud.  “You said it appeared to have fur of metal, Tim?”

            “Yes,” he said, his eyes piercing through the darkness of night, just able to make out the oncoming monstrosity.  Its three individual heads appeared to be sniffing in different directions, but the center head, with the longest neck, appeared to have a lock on them.  It was only four or five hundred yards away, and closing the gap at a disheartening speed.  It would be upon them in only a few minutes’ time. 

            “With a metal hide, it’s going to be difficult to harm it,” Stockholm said.  “I may be able to do it some damage, maybe find or make a weak point on a flank or head,” he said, the stench of Lizardman blood now so potent and overwhelming that he assumed an entire pack or caravan must have been ambushed and fed upon.  He would have gagged on the odor, but he’d smelled it before, and many’s the time. 

            “I’ll try as many different elemental spells as I can,” offered Timothy, drawing out his Void Staff and cracking it into the form of a long handled spear, replete with red feathers on the sides of the striking head.  “If it gets too close, though, there’s a Blinding Light spell locked on this spear.  I remember when that guy hit me with this thing during a little sparring session, man that killed,” he said, recalling one of his various sparring sessions with his less intellectual friends.  An Orc fellow, whose name he couldn’t bring to memory.  What he remembered most, however, was the small nick he’d got on the shoulder before an explosion of light dazzled and confused him, leading to a swift pinning tackle.  He’d lost that match; he’d never lost one to the Orc since.

            “Let’s hope that without eyes you can still blind it,” said Hina.  Timothy sagged his shoulders slightly; he’d forgotten that the creature didn’t appear to have eyes!  Still, the spear gave him a solid four feet of distance between himself and any physical strike, and that would have to do for now.  As he finished this thought, the creature came into full view of them, only one hundred yards away now and seeming to glare at them sightlessly.  All three lupine heads raised up into the air and let out coyote-like, warbling howls at the moon.

            Hina didn’t want to waste any time screwing around with this beast, because it was clearly more than a match for the three of them.  She pointed her short sword at the creature, using it as a conduit for her spell.  “Poisma,” she called out, using her poisoning magic spell with a full compliment of mana.  She watched the green line of magic strike the creature’s broad, metallic chest and sink in.  An aura of green light quickly engulfed the creature, but it only let out a low whine, and then raised its heads to face the trio. 

            That’s not possible, Hina thought, watching as the creature continued to approach.  It stopped about fifty yards away, and started to crouch low for a lunging attack.  She had put enough mana into her Poisma spell to send a full grown Minotaur into medical shock, yet it seemed to have little or no affect on this beast!  How could she hope to aid in a battle with such a monster?

            Her thoughts on the subject were swiftly closed as the creature, loosing a growl of such volume as to hurt their ears, sprang through the air at them, swiping at all three smaller adventurers with one of its huge hand-like paws.  The meaty part of its palm struck first Tim, knocking him back a good twelve yards before the hand met with Hina, sending her sprawling as well.  When the hand followed through the Stockholm, he was ready for it with a punch from his Fist of the Breaker.

            The Red Tribesman had counted on the power of his assault to back the creature off, but even as a small segment of its metallic coating broke away, the beast’s hand drew back a few yards and struck again, slamming Stockholm away to the west.  One little hole, he thought as he landed, thankful for the extra padding of the Shield of Force spell.  I only managed to punch one little hole in its hand!  How are we to destroy such a monster?

            Timothy landed well, dive-rolling from shoulder to hip as he came down from the blow.  He did a quick mental check of himself.  Nothing broken, and I’m not bleeding, that’s good.  He pointed his long spear at the creature, a good twelve yards away, and focused his mana through the Void Staff.  “Arrows of Frost,” he called out.  A disk of ice materialized in front of his weapon, and he thrust forward, shattering the disk into hundreds of tiny crossbow bolt-sized shards of ice.  The particles bounced harmlessly off of the creature’s metallic hide, however, and only served to gain the attention of one of the right-hand head.

            The beast lowered its right jaw, and Tim and Hina both saw the flare of red light glowing deep in its throat.  Sensing what was coming, Hina dashed over in front of
Timothy, and brought up a silent spell, Flame Disruption.  The beast’s right head breathed a cone of flames over them, which stopped just short of their bodies, dissipating on her defensive spell.  “Thank you,” Tim breathed as the heat began to bring beads of sweat to his forehead.

            “Thank me when we get through this alive,” she replied, pushing Tim and herself back out of the way of another paw swipe.  The first blow had rocked her bones, but thankfully hadn’t broken anything.  Another blow without a recasting of her Shield of Force might leave her with a fracture or two, however, and she wouldn’t risk that just yet.  Stockholm, meanwhile, had finally managed to get to his feet, and he stared right up at the left-hand head, which was still facing him.  The jaw began to lower, and he saw another glare of red light there.  Knowing what was coming, he decided to take a calculated risk, grabbing a long throwing knife from his belt.  As the mouth opened to belch fire at him, he hurled the knife right into the roof of the creature’s left mouth.

            The affect was immediate.  The beast reared up on its back legs, howling in agony and spewing a distorted jet of fire up into the sky.  Several passing birds fell the to ground below, flash fried, and when the creature landed on its middle and forward legs, the ground trembled with its weight.  It actually backed away a few paces, and Tim and Hina took a small measure of comfort from the fact that it was indeed vulnerable.  Timothy strode forward, dropping his spear on the ground and summoning up more of his mana.

            “Rage of Gaia,” he cried out, slamming his palms flat into the ground.  Twin streams of bright verdant light streaked through the ground at the beast, flanking it on both sides.  As the light reached a point on either side of its midsection, the earth around it exploded, and two enormous boulders came rocketing out of the ground and into its sides.  Once more the creature howled in pain, and large sections of what appeared to be steel siding fell from its body.  Hina let out a short yip of triumph.  “Gaiamancy!  It’s weak to earthen magic!”

            “Element Shift, Earthen,” Hina whispered, preparing her magic.  Before she cast her spell, however, she noticed a curious thing.  The vitriolic glow from her earlier Poisma spell seemed to deepen in color, and it was concentrating around the wounds in the creature’s sides and its left head.  As it received physical wounds, the magic was finding its way into the creature’s body, she realized.  She cancelled out her current line of thought, and grabbed Timothy by the shoulder.  “Tim, use another Gaiamancy spell on its center head.  I’ll focus my Poisma spell there once its vulnerable!”  He nodded, and prepared another spell for their combined efforts.

            Stockholm had dashed forward, toward the creature’s left side, and he leaped through the air, landing on its left flank.  There was now a small ledge of metal coating for him to stand upon, and under the armoring metal he now saw was a dark purple hide.  He sank his axe into the soft, yielding flesh, and watched as Hina’s magic flowed immediately into the wound.  The creature bucked, but he jumped down off of it before he could be thrown.  Stockholm sprinted south, back toward the mages, and he skidded to a halt a few yards from them.  “It’ll go down now for sure,” he breathed to them.

            Timothy targeted the central head with his mind, and brought his hands down once again for a Rage of Gaia spell.  The boulders struck both sides of the central head, breaking away large chunks of its metallic hide.  Beneath the armoring, right in the middle of its forehead, a baleful eye glared down at them, bloodshot and filled with murderous intent.  Hina saw her magic flow there, but it could not get in it seemed.  Stockholm pushed the two mages back with a smile.  “Please, allow me to clear the way,” he said. 

            He turned on his heel, and hurled his axe into the enormous eye, spraying a strange yellow ocular fluid on the creature’s snout and ground.  The Poisma spell found its way into the various wounds, and in half a minute, appeared to be overpowering the creature.  It swayed on its six legs for a moment, then vomited explosively through all three mouths before falling heavily onto its left side, bleeding all over the plains.  The ground splashed by the creature’s blood turned into a thick mud almost straight away, and the creature’s soft inner workings started to disintegrate and ooze out of the open wounds in its armored hide.

            Stockholm trundled slowly over to the place where he’d first used his Fist of the Breaker on the creature’s hand.  He found the chunk of metallic substance lying on the ground, and he carried it back to Hina and Timothy.  “Do either of you recognize this substance,” he asked, offering the hunk of metal first to Timothy. 

            “I can’t say as I do,” said Tim, hefting the substance in his hand.  He offered it to Hina, who simply shook her head.  “Sorry.  Should we keep it with us?  Maybe pawn it off, or ask a smithy about it?”

            “That’s a good idea,” Stockholm said, leading the mages a short distance away, back to their camp site.  “You can both lay down and get some rest.  I’ve already had more than enough sleep for now, I think,” said the Red Tribesman.  Both shared a single bedroll, and were fast asleep.  Stockholm took the opportunity to take out his map, and he located the next red ‘X’ mark on his map.  Far to the east, out near the city of Arcade, was the second of the three marks.  Curious, he searched the map for the third mark, and found it in the sandy wasteland known as The Desperation.  The desert took up a large portion of the continent’s southeastern corner, and was a hostile environment to all except the stout Lizardman and Minotaur tribes who made their lives there. 

            Tribal by nature and closed off from the rest of the world, the peoples of the Desperation tended not to take kindly to outsiders.  That should work in our favor, Stockholm thought, considering what sort of beings could apparently come through from other worlds into his own.  But what of those creatures that had already crossed through near the city of Arcade?  How many had been captured and put to use as slave labor by the various criminal syndicates of the city of thieves?  Many would have labeled him a hypocrite by these thoughts, for Stockholm himself worked in a thieves’ Guild.  However, the Hoods looked down on the idea of slavery and forced servitude, as would anyone in Tamalaria with a shred of decency. 

            His thoughts focusing once more on the mission ahead, Ignatious Stockholm wondered what sort of enemies lay in wait for him and his companions.  Thus far none of the trio had been badly wounded, thanks in equal parts to Hina’s defensive spells and the group’s collective abilities in combat.  Timothy had found and exploited the creature’s weakness on the second try, and Hina’s magic had infected it badly.  Stockholm himself had opened a large wound in its flank, helping the magic along.

            Yet somehow he felt as though he were doing only a meager portion of the work among them.  He was needed, true, in order to seal the rifts in reality.  The task could not be completed without him.  Yet, he thought with a smile, these two are trumping me in each combat situation.  I think I know now why you sent them to me, he thought to the Heavens above.  They’re very good at what they do, very capable as adventurers go.

                Ah, you noticed that too, did you, Lenos whispered in his mind.