Brandos knew he did not need to defeat the demon, only delay it long enough for Amirantha to banish it back to the demon realm. It was only a matter of gaining a minute or two, but the old fighter knew that even a few seconds could be a very long time. Lets go in before it comes back here. I dont welcome trying to keep it from those side tunnels. Best to keep it confined.
Amirantha stayed behind his friend as Brandos moved up the tunnel, stopping only a few yards from where the demon had retreated. The stench of the gas filling the cave was nearly overwhelming, but it had the desired effect. The demon approached them cautiously, halted and then stood motionless for a moment, regarding the two humans.
Then it opened its mouth and issued sounds; not the inarticulate sounds of rage and anger, for they seemed meaningful, with rhythm and distinct pronunciation.
Brandos said, Is it casting a spell?
Amirantha hesitated, his curiosity overwhelming his need to rid this realm of the demonic visitor. He listened for only an instant before he realized that Brandos was correct: the demon was a spell caster!
We should interrupt that, I think, said Amirantha. He uttered a single word, another cantrip release he had prepared for such dangerous encounters. The word acted as a mystic placeholder for a long, complicated spell, and its utterance instantly released the full force of the enchantment. As a result, the raging demon was suddenly unable to speak. The efficacy of the spell was dependent on several factors, but most importantly upon how powerful the targeted magic user was compared to Amirantha. The average village enchanter could be rendered silent until Amirantha chose to lift the spell. A powerful magician would be silenced only for a minute or two. A more powerful magician could shrug off the spell with little effort. This demon was an unknown quantity.
Amirantha began the spell of banishment and was only halfway through the incantation when the demon again found its voice, and resumed its own incantation.
Bloody hell, muttered Brandos as he darted forward, starting a slow, looping overhand strike at the demons head; at the last moment, he moved his blade, dropped to one knee and unleashed the blow upon the demons left leg. Shock ran up his arm as if he had struck the trunk of a massive tree, but even so, the demon howled in pain and retreated back up the tunnel, its spell casting interrupted. The creature was injured and it knelt for a moment, nursing its leg. Years before, Amirantha had paid a magician in Maharta to enchant the sword, to inflict additional pain on demons. Now he wished that he had paid for the spell to cause real injury, instead of a mere distraction.
As Amirantha finished his spell, the air seemed to come alive with hissing energy. The demon screamed defiantly, and the stone beneath their feet vibrated for a moment.
Its still here, observed Brandos.
I can see that, countered the Warlock. Its using its own magic to remain here.
What next? asked Brandos.
A more powerful spell of banishment, obviously. But were going to have to wear it out.
Wonderful, said Brandos shaking his head. So I bleed and you chatter.
Try not to bleed too much.
Ill see what I can do, said Brandos as Amirantha drew a large gem-like object from his pouch and smashed it on the floor.
A hazy curtain of ruby-coloured energy sprang up, bisecting the tunnel. Back through the wards! commanded Amirantha, and Brandos did not hesitate. He had been through too many of these confrontations to ignore the Warlocks instructions.
The magic users deep voice resonated in the narrow confines of the tunnel as he quickly strengthened the new wards with a cantrip and reached into his pouch once more. A tiny light pulsed on his palm as he held out his hand. He cradled the light as it quickly grew into a throbbing crimson orb, and threw it at the demon just as the creature moved purposefully towards the two men.
The demon was instantly engulfed in a scintillating web of crimson threads, which caused tiny explosions of white heat as they touched its skin. It howled and the stone tunnel shook from the sound, dislodging fine soil and small rocks that fell on Amirantha and Brandos.
Brandos took a quick look around, to see if the entire hillside was about to come down on them, but satisfied that things were relatively stable, returned his attention to the enraged demon. I think its annoyed, he said dryly.
What made you notice that? asked the Warlock.
Brandos swung again as the creature advanced, giving Amirantha a moment longer to prepare the complex spell of banishment. As a safeguard, the Warlock quickly placed another set of wards behind the first, as an emergency measure. The demon recoiled from the blow, but Brandos wasnt trying to attack it, only slow it down. Back! commanded Amirantha, and the old fighter retreated behind the next invisible threshold.
The Warlock uttered an invoking word and a wall of pulsing violet-coloured energy sprang up to encircle the demon in the tunnel. The sizzling cylinder of light was shot through with rose and golden colours, and when the demon struck its surface, it recoiled as if it had hit a stone wall. Smoke coiled from its flesh and its wounds were charred.
Brandos knew that demons expended energy to heal themselves, so each time they were injured they were weakened. But demons also had an exasperating ability to feed off other sources of energy given the chance, so it was wiser to weaken them as fast as possible so that the summoner could quickly banish them back to the demonic realm. Do I need to hit it a few more times?
Wouldnt be a bad idea, said the Warlock as he readied another set of wards.
Brandos feinted high and wide, causing the demon to raise his hands above his head; then the fighter crouched and thrust, taking the creatures left leg out from under it again. With another stone-rattling bellow the huge monster fell back, crashing onto the floor as its dark blood spurted into the air. It smoked and emitted a foul sulphur stench as it splashed onto the stones. Brandos pulled back.
That was a good strike, observed the Warlock.
I strive for the greatest result obtained from the least effort; Im getting old, you know, said the fighter as he retreated back to where Amirantha had erected the next set of confounding wards. Taking a deep breath, as perspiration flowed down his face, he added, One day youre going to get one of us killed.
More than likely, agreed the Warlock.
Or both of us, added Brandos, raising his buckler and holding his sword ready against any new, unexpected problem.
The demon healed its latest wound slowly, and both men took that as a good sign. It required time without distractions to repair itself, and the more damaged it was, the more time it required. Lacking that space, it consumed its own magic essence to heal faster, leaving it less magic to use against Amirantha and Brandos.
Were wearing it down, observed Brandos.
Good, said Amirantha, because its wearing us down, too.
Can you banish him?
Just a minute more, perhaps two.
Very well, said Brandos, and he stepped forward again, reading the boundary of the wards and striking hard at the demon. It was an easily anticipated blow, and the creature raised its hand to sweep Brandoss blade aside. But the old fighter had expected such a move, demons were predictable when it came to non-magical combat. In their realm, the bigger, stronger demon almost always triumphed simply by physically overpowering their smaller, weaker opponent. Rarely did demons of similar stature confront one another. In the mortal realm their size and savage nature gave them a decided advantage against any but the most powerful creatures. A greater dragon would make short work of such a foe, but a simple swordsman would have to overcome brute strength with intelligence. Brandos turned his wrist as the demon tried to brush aside his blow, and let his blade slide along the creatures raised left arm, inflicting a series of cuts and causing the demon to retreat half a step. Then the demon lashed out with its uninjured right arm, almost dislocating Brandoss shoulder from the blow taken on his buckler.
Brandos retreated across the ward threshold again and braced himself for another onslaught. The demon hesitated for only a moment, then charged. As it crossed the ward barrier, it shrieked in agony, but continued towards Brandos and Amirantha. Three strides from where the old fighter stood ready, the demon paused to gather magic. Amirantha felt a spell of some consequence begin to manifest.
Damn, said Brandos. More magic. He lowered his shoulder and charged.
The demons spell casting was interrupted as Brandos drew his buckler up against his left shoulder and rammed it into the creatures chest. It felt like hitting a stone wall, but it threw the demon backwards a few feet and allowed Brandos just enough time to pull away before a massive clawed hand decapitated him.
Brandos lashed out with his sword, striking the demons exposed arm. Again, the touch of enchanted steel caused a smoking wound and the demon cried out in rage. As he pulled back to stand before Amirantha, Brandos shouted, Its a first-time visitor to Midkemia; no protection spell in place to prevent harm from cold metal.
With practised fluidity, Brandos let go of the hand-grip on his buckler, and allowed it to dangle on his arm; then he tossed his sword from his right hand to his left, catching it with his now free hand, as he drew a dagger from his right hip. He threw the blade with as much force as possible, impaling the demons right foot and pinning it to the floor. Black smoke and a sulphurous stench filled the cave and the conjured creature screamed. Then it fell silent, regarding the two humans with its glowing red eyes, and calmly resumed its incantation.
Now would be a good time to finish, said Brandos, flipping his sword back into his right hand as he slipped his left back into the strap on his buckler. This fellow is bloody determined!
Amirantha had less than a moment to make his choice; he could continue his spell of banishment and risk Brandos being struck with a potentially lethal blast of magic, or abandon it and employ a spell he had prepared against such dangers.
His affection for his friend overcame the desire to finish in an orderly fashion and he ceased his conjuration, shouting, Close your eyes!
Brandos did not need to be told twice. He immediately crouched behind the small protection of his buckler as well as he could, and covered his eyes.
Amirantha closed his eyes as he incanted a five-syllable word, and unleashed a very powerful and destructive energy bolt. The warlock knew, from painful experience, that the energy carried within the crimson bolt, which flew out of his upraised hand to strike the demon, would pour into the creature through its skin, and set it alight from within.
They felt a sudden flash of searing heat, lasting mere seconds, but hot enough to scorch the hair on Brandoss arm. The stench of something foul cooking filled the tunnel and assaulted their nostrils. Then it was silent.
Brandos let his arms drop to his side as he let out a long sigh. I wish you didnt have to do that.
So do I, returned Amirantha. An orderly banishment is so less taxing
And painful, interrupted the fighter, as he inspected his singed arm.
And less painful, agreed Amirantha, than destroying the demon.
Shaking his head and letting out another long sigh, Brandos said, Have you ever considered that conjuring demons so you can be paid to banish them might not be the best use of your talents?
Smiling ruefully, Amirantha said, Occasionally, but how else can I earn the coin necessary to broaden my knowledge of the demon realm? Ive learnt as much as I can from those creatures were more familiar with.
Speaking of which, why didnt one of them show up?
Amirantha shrugged. I dont know. I sought to conjure Kreegrom Hes almost my pet now.
Brandos nodded. Ugly as sin. Have him chase you a bit where the Governors men can see him. Let him follow you back inside, give him a treat and send him back. Good plan. He fixed his friend with a scowling gaze. If it had worked!
I didnt think I was conjuring a battle demon.
A magic-using battle demon, corrected Brandos, as he sheathed his sword.
A magic-using battle demon, echoed Amirantha. He looked into the tunnel, now filled with noxious, oily black smoke. Charred demon flesh decorated the walls and floor of the tunnel and the smell was enough to make a battle-tested veteran vomit. The creatures left leg lay on the floor only a few feet away from them. Let us collect our fee from the Governor, remove ourselves from this quaint province and return home.
Home? asked Brandos. I thought wed head north for a bit, first.
No, said Amirantha. Theres something about this that is both familiar and troubling, something I need ponder in my own study, with my own volumes for reference. And its the safest place for us to be right now.
Since when did you concern yourself with safety? asked the old fighter.
Since I recognized a familiar presence behind that demon.
Brandos closed his eyes for a moment, as if weighing what he had just heard. Im not going to like this next part, am I?
Probably not, said Amirantha inspecting the contents of his belt bag to note what would have to be replaced. When the demon exploded, a series of magic call them signatures, hallmarks of spellcraft, tumbled away. Most were my own, from the wards and spells I had fashioned, save two. One was the demons, which I expected, alien and unfamiliar, but the last belonged to another player. He was silent for a moment, then said, A player with a signature as familiar to me as my own.
Brandos had been with Amirantha for most of his life and had heard many stories from the Warlock. He could easily anticipate what was coming next. Softly, Brandos asked, Belasco?
Amirantha nodded. Belasco.
Bloody hell, the old fighter swore quietly. His face was a map of sun-brown leather, showing years of privation and struggle. His hair, once golden blond, had been grey for more than two decades, but his startling blue eyes were still youthful. Shaking his head, he said, The one thing about travelling with you, Amirantha, is that things are always interesting.
You find the oddest things interesting, said Amirantha.
Comes from the company I keep, said Brandos.
Amirantha could only nod. They had been together for a long time. He had found Brandos as a street urchin in the city of Khaipur, nearly forty-two years ago. Now, despite being years older than his companion, the warlock looked twenty years his junior. Both men knew that the magic user would outlive the fighter by a generation, yet they never spoke of it, except upon occasion when Brandos quipped that Amiranthas proclivities would end up getting him killed before his time. Despite appearances, Brandos looked upon Amirantha as a father.
How a practitioner of a particularly dark form of magic had come to play the role of foster father to an illiterate street boy was still a bit of a mystery to Amirantha, but somehow Brandos had insinuated his way into the magic users affections and they had been together ever since.
Amirantha led Brandos past the charred remains of the demon to the summoning cave and picked up two large leather bags, handing one to the fighter. Both men shouldered their burdens. Looking around at the overturned ward stones, the burning pots of incense, and the other accoutrements of demon summoning, the Warlock said, Im not criticizing, but what brought you into the cave?