Friday, January 13, 2023

Dark Armor: The Demon

Pallian landed hard on the dirt beyond the earthworks, and immediately began to sink. The demon slowed its approach, bemused, but the infantry captain must have been moving as well: a javelin went whistling through the air, aimed past the demon. The creature reached out to catch it anyway, but just as its half-formed fingers would have closed around the shaft, the javelin became a bolt of lightning.

The demon caught only air, and the sorcerer behind it staggered and went down. 

Pallian immediately stopped sinking, and took advantage of the opportunity -- and the added strength provided by his armor -- to kick his legs loose and step back up onto the surface of the ground. The demon grunted but didn't vanish, and Pallian suffered a brief pang of regret for the likely death of the sorcerer who had summoned it. He'd long since reached the point in his career as the Black Knight where he regretted the loss of a competent enemy, and any sorcerer who could summon something like this and leave it to exist independently...

Then it was on him, and he had no time for further thought. 

It was faster than it looked, and while armor and shield absorbed the initial blow from its fists, the impact drove his heels ankle-deep into the ground. If it got its hands on him...

He cut up, and the gauntlet-sword sliced across what should have been its wrist, opening a deep gash in the flesh. The demon yanked its arm back, mewling, and then swung at him with its other fist. 

Pallian took a calculated risk, stepping just far enough to the side and meeting the attack with a countercut. The thing's arm went past him, then pulled back -- like being punched at with a tree-trunk, or shot at with a ballista. Its hand continued on, landing somewhere well behind Pallian's back. 

The demon reared back, gaping at its severed stump as if surprised that it could be hurt at all. Then its eyes lifted, looking past the Black Knight, and it tried to lumber past him. 

Pallian didn't want to know what would happen it it got its hand back. He especially didn't want to know what the hand might be doing out there on its own, though he might not get any choice in that. Still, this was too good an opportunity...

He swept his blade through a passing knee, then back to cut through the ankle. Knee. Ankle. Dodge. He threw himself to the side as the demon mewled and toppled. Shoulder! He stepped in, made the cut, then made it twice again before he severed the creature's good arm, speared it with his blade, and flung it away. It sailed off over the earthworks and out of sight. 

Unfortunately, the demon's leg was already putting itself back together, flesh stretching like putty to reconnect. Pallian cut again, and then again: Knee. He kicked the limb aside. Ankle. He stabbed the severed shin and flung it up and over the walls of Marinul. Then he kicked the foot again, sending it further away. He was distantly aware that the severed hand had latched onto one of his heavy infantry and was crushing the trooper into paste, while a half-dozen other troopers smashed at its fingers with their maces or tried to cut it apart with side-swords. They were succeeding, but not fast enough to save their fellow.

The demon flopped over like a fish on land, and the stump of its left arm came down like a falling tree. Pallian got his shield up, but the sheer force of the blow knocked him four full paces back. It was still thrashing as he came to his feet, its one working leg digging in to push it towards him. 

But more of the armies of Teregor were coming over the earthworks now, including a handful of sorcerers. Two of them focused on fending off attacks from the walls above, but two more focused on the demon. They lifted ensorceled rods and gestured, tearing rents in its flesh and burning it as best they could, until the last of them finished his working and banished the monstrous thing. 

By then, the Black Knight was already at the gates. His helm informed him of the enchantments woven through them, outlined key points and made targets of them. Pallian took a moment to sling his shield across his back, then activated his left gauntlet. 

A small flame formed in the palm of its extended hand: a quick, stabbing attack, the magical equivalent of a spear or javelin. A heartbeat later it was brighter, wider: a flight of javelins, ready to take out a swath of enemies. A heartbeat after that it was a burning green ball the size of his head, ready to demolish wood or stone as needed: his own personal siege weapon.

There was a loud snap, and then a deep groan and a louder creaking. The gates began to open. The Black Knight of Teregor stood and waited, motioning for the others to stay behind him. 

A figure stepped into the opening, and Pallian nodded.

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