Friday, January 26, 2024

Dark Armor: The Second Battle of Marinul

The statues weren't as fast as living men, but they weren't slow either. Pallian lashed out with a gauntlet-covered fist as one of them turned to look at him, and the blow shattered its head. The impact rocked it slightly back, but otherwise failed to even slow it. 

He grabbed its wrists as it reached for him and slung it around, smashing it against the stone bodies of the other statues around him. Damn it! The armor would keep him safe from harm, but with so many of these things around he could still be pulled down and immobilized; the armor had a counter to prevent that, but he wasn't sure how well it would work against these heavy stone opponents. 

He slid his right hand into the gauntlet sword, and triggered the left gauntlet again. The small ball of fire that formed could be called quickly but was little more powerful than a javelin. The second stage would loose a spread of such missiles, perfect for smashing down a door or taking out a small group of enemies at close range. Neither would help here. He laid about him with the sword, chipping off limbs and shattering bodies, as he waited for it to build.

The fire flared again, becoming the stone-shattering ball of green flame that he'd used earlier, and Pallian looked up at the one who they'd thought was an Emissary... The one who'd just declared himself one of the Second. 

It was still hanging in the air, and it was looking down at him. "No, I don't think so." A band of stone shot up from the ground, caught his arm, and dragged it down, pointing the weapon away from the Second. "And what exactly are you? A construct? Undead? An armored warrior?"

Pallian didn't answer; from inside the armor, he couldn't speak. He was still striking out with the gauntlet sword, but with one arm trapped his movement was limited. A statue tried to punch him in the kidneys, and the armor absorbed the blow. He struck at the pillar, trying to free his arm, and carved a gouge in it; above him, the Second shook his head. 

Not like this, he thought. He didn't want to die as the Black Knight, as the voiceless servant of his father, and he did not want to be taken prisoner by the Second. That seemed like a good way to end up as an armored statue, or worse. There had to be a way out. 

An arrow slammed into the invisible bubble around the Second, and this time it cracked and shattered. The Second looked momentarily stunned, and then even more so as a shadow flowed up through the air behind him and planted a dagger in his back. One shadowy arm curled around his throat, and a second arrow buried itself in his chest. 

The Second scowled, grabbed, twisted, and flung, and the shadow tumbled through the shattered-open wall into the second floor of the governor's mansion. Then he gestured, and the build crushed itself around the shadow. Another arrow stopped, caught by unseen forces a palm's width from his face, and the Second turned and gestured, sending the arrow back the way it had come. 

By then the statues had crowded close around him, and even with the armor's strength added to his own Pallian was having trouble swinging the sword. Others were climbing on top of them, weighing him down and trying to take him to the ground. He caught a brief glimpse of the Second looking down at him; then stone closed over him and buried him entirely.

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