Chapter 23: 22: Attacked By The Dark Elves [II]

When Lindley glanced back, he saw Ogvigh pacing the riverbank behind Gargdor’s barrier, prowling like a caged beast. He twirled the axe in his hands, strong knuckles gripping the handle.

The scaven needed to be able to get at the drow through the fire and steam, and his father wanted to make sure that he was safe while shielding them from the drows' attacks. That meant getting rid of the fire in a better way. Whispering the words of the spell, the paladin held up the his right hand. He pointed it across the river, and a burst of air shot out, stirring up waves. The roiling water from his spell pierced the curtain of fire and quelled it.

Cool air flowed through the cavern in the wake of the blaze.

When the steam dissipated, Lindley saw the drow wizard was still standing on air in the middle of the river. One of the drow warriors had levitated higher than before, and hovered near the cavern roof, the bow in his hand at the ready. But the third drow was nowhere in sight.

The missing warrior didn’t seem to trouble Ogvigh. He shouted a laugh and hurled his axe at the drow hovering near the ceiling. The weapon spun end over end, large blades flashing. The drow tried to dodge, but it was too late. Ogvigh’s axe impaled the warrior in the chest with a sickening thud. The force of impact bent the drow’s body backward, disrupting his levitation spell.

As the drow fell into the river, and disappeared along with the axe beneath the water, Ogvigh threw a round item on the ground, creating a blinding light. When the radiance receded, Ogvigh was standing still, his head bowed.

“You’re outmatched, little drow!” Gargdor shouted at the dark elven wizard. “Your spells won’t protect you forever, you know.”

The wizard laughed scornfully, and answered. “You never had the advantage, scaven. One of your comrades is weak from our poison, and the other is missing his weapon. How much longer can your own magic protect you? Why don’t you run to your city? I promise we’ll let you go, but we'll root you out there sooner than later. In the meantime, why not enjoy the remaining days of your lives while you can?”

Lindley watched Gargdor’s face. He expected him to react with anger, to strike out at the drow with his axe as Ogvigh had done, but Gargdor’s expression remained indifferent. He went to stand beside Ogvigh, but not touching the scaven.

“We’ve not lost yet, mage,” Gargdor murmured, and touched the axe on his belt. The runes along the blade flashed. The axe disappeared from his waist and materialized before him, in the air. Gardor grabbed the weapon, and smiled faintly.

The drow’s gloating expression vanished. Furiously, he began conjuring invisible shields. Lindley guessed the drow mage didn’t want to find himself with Gargdor’s blade protruding from his stomach like the other dark elf.

Suddenly, Ogvigh burst from the river, coughing and scrubbing water out of his eyes. The second drow archer surfaced in front of him. The blade of a large dagger glinted in his grip, reflecting the light from the flowstones. Ogvigh grabbed the drow’s wrist before he could slash him with the weapon. They grappled with each other and the current for a breath, but Ogvigh was stronger than him. He turned the dagger aside and forced the drow’s arm down, and swiped the blade across the dark elf's throat. He pushed the drow’s body aside, letting the river carry it away.

“Your comrades are gone, and I’m strong enough to hurl more spells, and the axe, at you,” Gargdor shouted at the drow mage. “Surrender!”

Shields in place, the wizard turned to look at Ogvigh. His eyes changed, the red light deepening with hatred and a deadly resolve. How did the scaven emerged from the river when he just saw him standing beside the scaven mage? He turned towards the figure beside the older scaven. Using his mage sight, he realized it was an earth illusion, but a weaker one. He fell for a low-level illusion?

Cornered as he was, he would kill himself and all of them before he would be a prisoner of war. The drow raised his hands and so did Gargdor, spitting out the words to what appeared to be one of his most poweful spells.

The scaven paladin stomped his right leg on the ground, followed by his left. Blue-white lIghtning erupted from his in the form of huge, jagged bolts that sizzled from his flesh and raised the hair all over Lindley’s body. Flowstones rained down from the cavern ceiling as the lightning tore through them like nothing. Loud cracking sounds filled the air, and amid the chaos came the mage’s scream. Lightning had burned through his spell shields all at once.

At this time, Lindley’s legs gave out, and he fell on the cavern floor. He stopped fighting the sleep poison, let it cloud his mind and numb his limbs. Sparks burst in the air, bright pops in front of Lindley’s eyes as they drifted closed.

[Ding!]

[Fighter Skill - Grappling Hands Obtained]

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[Fighter >> Level 5]

When Lindley opened his eyes, Gargdor was leaning over him. Ogvigh stood behind him, keeping watch. They were alive, their flesh not charred and stripped away by lightning. Lindley was greatly relieved and he let out a deep breath.

“Are you all right?” Gargdor asked.

“I think so.” Lindley replied. Slowly, he sat up. His arm ached, and the sleeping poison still coursed through him, but Lindley thought he could walk if he had to.

“Damn impressive sight, isn't it?” Gargdor asked, smiling. “A level 25 mage in front of an arcane paladin? He's on his way to Hades' gate, burned.”

Ogvigh lifted his axe and gave a sudden cry. Lindley tensed, but then she realized there was no alarm in the scaven’s voice. His cry had been one of greeting. Lindley turned. On the opposite bank, orbstones shone through a narrow tunnel, the place where Gargdor had been leading them before the attack. A group of scavens stood at the tunnel mouth.

They were led by a pair of female scavens. The taller of the two was fair-haired, and the other had mahogany braids similar to Ogvigh’s. They both had axes identical to Ogvigh’s and Gargdor’s hanging from their belts. Traits of Gargdor’s features could be seen on the women’s faces, though only faintly in the fair-haired one.

Lindley guessed they must be Ogvigh's sisters.

“We came searching when you didn't show up this morning. Then we saw your lightning displays.” said the dark-haired scaven woman in general tongue. “And, how did you find yourself a humanling?”

Ogvigh said something sharp, gesturing with his axe toward the tunnel mouth.

“He’s right,” Gargdor said. “This isn’t the place to talk. Wait until we’re home.”

“Agreed,” said the fair-haired scaven, also speaking in the common tongue for Lindley’s benefit. “We’re all tired from the journey down.”

Obviously, Ogvigh was the only one of the scaven family who had an objection to using Commish.

Lindley didn’t argue. It seemed the scavens meant him no harm. If there were more drow lurking around, he wanted to get somewhere safe as quickly as possible.

The fair-haired scaven moved to the edge of the river and picked up a stone. Bringing it to her lips, she spoke a phrase in Scavish then cast the stone into the river. A faint rumbling sounded from deep beneath the water, echoing in the cavern. One by one, stones rose from the river, stained dark by water and algae. They hovered above the river, fastening together to form a rough footbridge.

“Watch your step,” Gargdor advised, leading the way across the bridge.

Lindley followed him on instructions, and Ogvigh came last. When they were safely on the other side, Ogvigh and Gargdor took up a position at the rear of the group and Lindley stayed in the middle of the group of scavens.

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