Dark Armor: The Battle in the Obsidian Citadel

Battle wasn't hard to find. 

They'd followed the passages towards the central hall, and found it lit from the outside. The double doors had been smashed in, and troops in curiously antiquated armor were formed up in the hall, while others in similar armor were spread out to cover various doorways. 

"Oh, lovely," said Dakrin Eld, and gestured. A wave of frost flowed over their foes, and Pallian strode forward in his armor. Third-princess Ashmiren had vanished, but Ember had simply stepped to one side of the passageway they'd arrived through, standing next to the ghostly ancestor who'd chosen to accompany him. 

Pallian drew a deep breath, focused on his sense of third-princess Ashmiren, and projected a thought in her direction: Wait 'til the Emissary shows itself, then take it out. I'll cut into the troops, but your skills are wasted there.

A soft breath of the night wind came back to him. I'll be ready. 

He reached the first of the Emissary's troopers and cut through them as they stood stunned and half-frozen, then began carving his way into their ranks. A moment later there was a sort of muted growl, and half of them -- the ones not close to him -- were on fire. They screamed, but their screams were muted...

A lone figure, previously hidden by their numbers, spun and saw the Black Knight approaching. "You," it said. Pallian merely continued cutting his way forward. 

The figure was tall and heroically proportioned, dressed in a breastplate and a battle skirt, with sandals laced up to just below its knees. It held a cutting-spear, and screeched as it turned to face him. There. Pallian started towards it, but then it shrieked as it began to dissolve into mist. It pulled itself back together momentarily, but by then most of the enemy troop was on fire -- at least, the ones in the Entry Hall were. 

Pallian shifted slightly as it threw the spear, letting the Black Knight's shield turn it aside, and came forward as it continued to struggle against being dissolved. It pulled itself back together again and raised one hand; the cutting-spear reappeared in its grip. 

The Black Knight slapped the tip aside with his shield, then stepped in and drove the gauntlet sword through its torso. The breastplate was no impediment at all. The Emissary shrieked again, but suddenly the Shadow of Edrias was behind it, opening its throat before slipping away to dance through the remainder of its troops. 

Ember and the Ghostly Ancestor moved into one of the corridors, tearing through the suddenly leaderless troops. 

"We'll hold the hall," called Dakrin Eld, gesturing to the flesh-clothed ancestor beside him. "Clear them out!" 

Pallian smiled inside his helm, and started forward. Ashmiren was gone again, but he knew she was keeping pace; any surprises in front of him were likely to get a surprise of their own.

Notes for the next entry:
(Westrov the Arms-Trainer)
(Kolpis, Pallian's old friend, representing his House at court)
(Dakrin Eld, Ancestor, Great-Grandfather's brother; teleporter)
(Ghostly Ancestor, hanging out with Ember to guide it and be protected by it)
(Fleshly Ancestor, pledged to protect Pallian as best he can)
(Amedin Halfdead, Master of Initiations and Advisor to the Wizard-King of Teregor)
(Kareth Teres, the Wizard-King)