Chapter 206 - Those Who Fight Further (1/2)
As soon as the peace talks ended, Jack and Rose set to work helping the Elders and their supporters subdue or root out any remaining loyalists to Rawgh'faz inside the village proper while Farlo relayed what had been agreed upon to the rest of the party.
After a few brief scuffles and skirmishes, the most adamant of the resistance faded. Whatever threat the gnolls could place disappeared as soon as Harrowbloom felled the first. From there, carving them down as simple, and methodical.
To Jack's surprise, by the time they'd cleared all of the houses, there were still more than two dozen loyalist left. The remainder had fled to the edge of the town square closest to the ledge, using the shape of the cliff behind them as a form of crude defensive support while they assembled some form of last stand. However, despite their final show of force, their resistance caved almost immediately when a frighteningly enthusiastic Dawson the Daring leapt from the ledge, sailing downwards until he landed directly on one of the guarding gnolls. The resulting impact reminded Jack of the time he'd seen someone throw a watermelon off a building, only in reverse. In the aftermath of the horrific splatter, the remaining creatures all dropped their weapons and fell to the ground before the giant black knight , and Jack had to expressly forbid him from gleefully hacking the unarmed creatures to pieces before he could do anything else.
As the Elders and their supporters rounded up the surrendered loyalists and sent them to be dealt with, Farlo and the rest of the party, including Urien, descended from the ledge and joined Jack and Rose in the central square. Within minutes, the work was done. Gragh'mah walked up to their party, his fingers again steepled in front of him.
”The loyalists are contained. As soon as Rawgh'faz is removed, they will fall in line behind whoever the ruling party is. Such is the way for our people.” He said. ”I of course will be waiting for confirmation of his defeat.”
Jack nodded.
”We're on our way to deal with him now. With all of us together, dealing with him shouldn't take long.” He said, sheathing Harrowbloom. ”Where is he now?”
Gragh'mah pointed a long finger at a tunnel entrance at the far end of the massive cave they currently occupied.
”Through there is the throne room, as well as access to his personal quarters. You will find both him and your blue friend there.” He said.
Jack clapped the gnoll on the arm.
”Thank you, friend. We will speak-”
He was cut short by a deafening roar emanating from the corridor. All eyes in the square shot towards it all at the same moment.
”What in God's name is that?!” Urien asked, pulling his sword from its sheath. The remaining party members drew their weapons or prepared spells, as did the dozen or so fighters loyal to the Elders.
Gragh'faz took a step backwards. While Jack was certain it was impossible for a gnoll to look pale, if there was a gnoll equivalent, the Elder wore it plainly on his face.
”That is not a sound I have ever heard before.” He said.
”Is it Rawgh'faz?” Rose asked.
The gnoll shook his head quickly, before stumbling backwards.
”I... I don't know...” He said, scrambling backwards on his hands and feet
Jack grimaced and pulled Harrowbloom from its sheath again, the spiritual energy of the weapon flooding into his body again in a rush. As soon as he did so, he heard another deafening roar, then a tremendous crash, like an entire building had just been smashed to pieces. Whatever it was approached down the tunnel towards them with thunderous, slapping steps, the sounds of tearing stone and falling debris following in its wake.
He looked at the panicked gnoll, his face grim. He pointed at the ledge above.
”Whatever is about to come through this tunnel, you need to take whoever you can and get up on that ledge and find a way out of here. If you stay, it is quite possible that all of you will die. We'll do what we can to stop it. If you have any fighters who want to stay, we will be happy for the help.” He said.
Gragh'mah nodded shakily before clawing his way back to his feet. Without a word of response, he immediately began calling out to others, gathering everyone in earshot and sending them on their way as Jack indicated.
In the meantime, Jack, Rose, Farlo, Dawson, and the rest of the party, along with nearly a dozen armed gnolls rushed for the edge of the village, providing an armed barrier between the fleeing villagers and whatever was on its way towards them. Jack found himself wanting to give the group some kind of rousing speech like the hero would do in the final battle of a gret movie, but the fear of what was about to happen drove his mind blank. All he could do was keep himself composed and focus on his breathing. Harrowbloom was charged. He'd regained a bit of magic since they'd last fought, even in spite of the small amount he used in his confrontation with Urien. He was supported by talented fighters. This was as good as he could hope for.
And then, as if on cue, the source of the horrible cry tore itself out of the far tunnel and into the central cave room.
The creature was an unholy abomination out of his worst nightmares. A giant humanoid thing, easily twice as tall as he was, with four massive muscle-wrapped arms and legs as thick as tree trunks. The whole thing was an awful pallid flesh tone, and covered with countless fleshly tendrils that reminded him of something between a sea anemone and an octopus. In the center of the creatures head was a single, unblinking red eye, and below that, a hanging maw of countless jagged teeth. The whole effect was so unnatural and off-putting that Jack felt himself get light-headed and queasy just by looking at it. Several of the gnoll fighters and adventurers with them blanched and immediately fled with the rest rushing up the ledge and out of the cave.
The creature turned its attention towards Jack and the rest, roaring loudly again before breaking into a sprint towards the small assembled group.
Jack pulled his last magic missile scroll from his belt and tore the seal. The familiar darts of magical energy congealed into the air, orbiting his hand. Casting a glance sidewards, he saw the couple remaining Gifted members of the party prepare spells. As soon as the creature crossed within fifty paces or so, he loosed the missile charges at it, and the other casters followed suite with their attacks. The missile bolts struck the creature square in the torso with a trio of faint thuds, leaving behind small scorch marks, but little else. A pair of fireballs crashed against the abomination's body, but washed harmlessly away with no effect. Only the stone spear hurled by one of the other casters seemed to have any effect as it buried itself a couple inches into one of the beast's massive legs. The creature howled in pain, before tearing the spike out of its thigh. It hurled it back towards them, catching its initial caster directly in the chest and sending him sailing a few dozen feet backwards before the spike buried itself into the dirt, his body still stuck to it.
”Hold on everyone! Here it comes!” Jack called out as he settled into a defensive stance, the Shieldcloak in his left hand and Harrowbloom in his right.
Within seconds, the beast was upon them. It hurtled into their midst, its four clawed arms swiping and tearing at anything near. Two of the gnolls supporting them were carried clean off their feet as the creature's claws tore gaping wounds in their bodies and hurled them through the air into bloody piles in the distance. One of its blows struck Jack's Shieldcloak with such force that it slammed straight to the ground like God had just hit him with a sledgehammer. He groaned as he fought back to his feet, forcing air back into his lungs. The creature wound up for another strike at him, only to be distracted by Rose and Dawson, who each chopped at the monster's legs with their blades. Both of them could have been striking stone, however, as their blades bounced and glanced off the creature's hide without mark. Only Farlo seemed to cause any harm with his weapon as its short blade bit with each cut, leaving small gashes that trickled oily black blood into the dust.