D&D - Combat Chaos, Fantasy Stories of Battle
High above the hermit villages of Biyal Peak the Gates of Moral lay open. The grand council of Moral lay dead on the floor, scattered limbs covering the many halls. The astute man, his sword grasped firmly in both hands, stood at the foothold of heaven. The gateway from the mortal realm to the paradise above lay open and he took a moment to stare into the heavenly glow of the chasm. He knew his battle was not over, for the fourth and final brother remained. He stood ready, sword at arm, for his final triumph. "Destrom, jihai douta haurach!"
The temple began to shake, the blue light's glow altered into a deep purple, ever changing to a more sinister black shade. The softly glowing light intensified for a moment, blinding Dolanar. He stumbled, losing his balance for a moment and regaining it until he landed against the wall. Suddenly the light extinguished. The entire temple went dark, as if midnight cast its grim shadow upon the sunless citadel. A black figure stepped out from the glowing portal and slowly the temple's illumination returned. Dolanar could not believe his eyes. What had stepped out was a colorless black shadow, in the definate form of a human. Slowly the figure's shape became clearer; his face revealed an older figure with a very gallant and young looking beard. "So finally, we have met." Destrom spoke clear. "You have ascended the Biyal and slain the council and my three brothers, but for what purpose?"
Dolanar looked at the older man, giving a slight sneer. "You, my friend. Your "councilmen" and the likes have spat a poor fate upon my family, So I have come to avenge their debauched name ." Dolanar stood staring at the man.
"Everything happens with a purpose, every ditch and ebb has its turn, every great tale with its struggle and outcome, and so ultimately the prophecy is revealed."
"Oh yes "the prophecy". It was the prophecy that wrote of my brother horribly misshapen by the plague and my family carried off to slavery by your church. It was the same "prophets" that now covers the walls with your council's blood. The same "prophecy" that speaks of your skull used as a cup when I drink for my king."
"The council and their "temples" has nothing to do with the prophecy, they are mere dabblers in affairs with the gods and mortals. My brothers were foolish for getting involved into the affairs of men. I think you will find me to be much more just."
Dead air cast upon the two as they looked silently each other. The wind picked up and moist breeze ran a chill down Dolanar's back. Destrom gave a languid flick of his wrist. With that the two vanished instantaneously, reappearing on the outcropping far above the temple. The snow poured at a merciless batter, breaking for no mortal of deity alike. The wind ripped the small pebbles from the ground, flinging them off the cliff and unto the endless descent. The ground was loose snow drifting off the rocky edge. "Krose!" Dolanar shouted.
Versed , Dolanar raised his sword with two hands high in the air, charging at Destrom. Destrom showed a mocking grin and raised his hands in the air. "Valignatus Itpro!" He cried. With that two small orbs formed in both hands, slowly rotating around each other. Dolanar cir*****stantially shifted his sword, from above him to his side. With great force he crouched and leapt ten feet into the air. Destrom pointed his hands facing the man, palms spread out. Instantly lightning spat like a violent storm in all directions above him, striking Destrom twice. Dolanar continued forward unmoved, he shouted "Lie'rote godere!" and gave a forceful kick to the wizard, knocking him back several feet. He landed, swinging his sword in a array of violent and forceful blows, Destrom quick to recover from the blow and blocking each swing with a lightning barb between jutting from his hands. "Not going to die are you?" The warrior shouted at him, swinging harder and harder each it.
The wizard cackled "Mere mortal, this is just the beginning!"
With that Destrom arced the lightning directly at him, throwing him back halfway across the field. He flew backwards, finally catching himself on the hard rock. The wizard switched his stance, suddenly chanting deep to himself "Lidaros, Arconos, Hivarrote" over and over.
The warrior picked up a rock the size of his head and threw it up into the air. Suddenly the wizard's hand began to glow and red embers lit the ground around him. Slowly the rocks underneath him began to boil, glowing red balls appeared out of the ground around him. He brought them to level with his face, stopping abruptly and staring at Dolanar.
"Malise!", with that the red masses flew forward at Dolanar. The air around them made a violent hiss as the steam flew off of them like thick smoke. Dolanar ran to his left to dodge them, but instead they shifted their direction as well. He ran to avoid, catching a quick glimpse of the wizard staring at him with a focused glare. A few moments later the rock that he had thrown into the air landed with a violent smash upon the ground. As the pieces bounced in all directions Dolanar flew himself into a high backflip, over the pieces in the air. The red orbs ran into the rocks, some dispersing and others losing some momentum. He quickly picked up a piece possibly the size of eye, and threw it at the wizard. A second later the red orbs fell and the wizard knelled over, as a deep gash spurted blood across the snow. The warrior laughed "Is that all it takes, a rock?"
"Byaral Exsolcist Miorten!" The wizard yelled . It seemed to echo in the distance for a good five seconds, as the warrior brushed himself off and walked over to the wizard. Everything around was silent. Then he stopped, looking behind him. He heard a slight whistle, similar to an arrow. "Wait" he said, "that is not an arrow, its... talons?"
"Caw! Caw, caw caw! Caw caw!"
It suddenly became visible like a storm of black dust, a huge flock of blackbirds charged forward rushing in the direction of the warrior. He threw his sword back, winding a large swing and suddenly jumping into the air. The birds approached, and he violently swung his sword at them, dodging those he could and slicing the rest of them. About 10 seconds later the last of them flew off into the distance. Many feathers littered the air, floating silently with the snow. Dolanar coughed blood, he had been cut, ripped at violently by the birds that had collided into him. He stood up and walked over to the wizard, still lying on the ground. He collapsed, falling to his knees and letting a breath of relief. He looked to the sky, the snow falling in every direction as he wondered how he would get off the mountain. Just then he heard a voice
He turned his head to the wizard, who was now slowly standing back up. Dolanar quickly got to his feet. "I would of thought you died old man, Now put your head forward, I am going to sever it." "Your family, they are..." Destrom seemed to stutter for the words.
"enough talk old man, you can die with honor or die in shame." He spat on him.
"Your family is free, your brother is well.... But..."
"At what cost?" with the Destrom looked directly at the young man.
Just then a huge splatter of blood shot from Dolanar's face. A clear hole ripped through it, a huge glob of blood and tissue matter fell on the snow. Dolanar clutching his sword fell to his knees, then gracefully dropping his sword to his side, fell on his face. A single blackbird flew off in the distance, regaining its posture after colliding into Dolanar, a rose in the birds mouth. "Rest in Peace warrior, may the gods have mercy on your soul."
With that Destrom laid his sword next to the warrior and walked off. The snow fell softly, slowly covering the warrior.
In obligatory court it was determined for the crimes Dolanar committed against the gods he would be put in the Innermost Ring of the Seventh Circle of hell for twenty-thousand years, at which time he will be put in purgatory and judged by his descendants as to if he will become a lord or serve the rest of eternity In the sixth circle entombed in fire with all the other heretics.