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The Final Battle
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S.Y. 311.5 (January
26, 2002) The fetid smell of the churned up swamp welled up as the horses shifted nervously about. The sounds of enraged alligators in forced battle against each other heighten the tension. Scouts return to report gates are opening at the edge of the swamp. Weapons are drawn and the beginning of magics intensifies the electricity in the air. Soon the sounds of splashing and the rattling of armor are heard drawing closer. Lord Engval reminds the commanders to keep their troops steady until the enemy has drawn closer. From out of the trees the Minions of Richard materialize. The dark skin of the Drow is as unmistakable as the stench from the orcs. “Steady. Steady,” cautions Lord Engval to those near him. Lord Engval scans the approaching army for Richard. Knowing that he must get to him quickly and draw him away from the main battle. Finally, Richard is spotted resplendid in his dark armor just off center of his army. With a thundering roar and the splashing of water the two armies charge into each other. Spells fly and blood flows. Engval chants a magic arrow spell and sends it hurling at Richard. His attention caught by the minor spell, Richard turns and sees Engval advancing upon him. Lord Engval charges forward with a look of stone determination set into the features of his face. He pulls up short away from Richard and yells over the din of battle. “If you want to challenge your powers against mine, then follow me so that we can met our fates uninterrupted.” Challenges Lord Engval as he summons up a zephyr wind and is carried off towards the Fire Mountains. With a curse and a roar, Richard is enveloped in a pillar of black flame that lifts him off the ground and sends him rocketing after Engval. As Engval flies towards the mountains, he hears the growing sounds of battle beneath him. A quick glance backwards shows him that Richard has taken his challenge. For a moment doubt crosses his mind, but he is resolved to see this to the end. All is quiet in the solitude of an unusual alpine forest. Once the sacred garden of ancient druids, the trees aligned in perfect symmetry. Their leaves having long since withered away from the effects of Nystul’s meddling. A sudden gust of wind bends and sways the aged trees before once again they rest in calm silence. Just as quietly Lord Engval stands drawing in the energy of the earth. The roaring of Richard’s arrival once again shatters the quiet. The black flames consuming several trees as they set Richard upon the now scorched ground. The acrid smoke swirls around Richard’s feet as he stands impatiently, waiting for Engval to attack. Engval’s attack comes swiftly as the ground wells up and encases the legs of Richard. Richard is momentarily immobilized as the hulking shape of an earth elemental rises next to him. A sly smile escapes his lips just before he vanishes into thin air. A blink of an eye later he is behind the elemental twisting his dark magic. As quickly as the elemental appeared, the dark hammer force of Richard’s spell quickly shatters it. In the same motion a spear of blackness is hurled towards Engval. Who barely manages to summon a stone wall to block the attack. The force of the strike explodes into the wall and batters Engval with flying fragments. A whirlwind summoned by Engval rises up a cloud of dust that momentarily blinds Richard. Once more gathering the forces of nature, Engval directs a fiery spiral towards Richard. Enveloped in a column of fire Richard waves his hand and the flames are themselves consumed by a dark veil that oozes into the ground and disappears. Wagging a finger of disfavor, Richard wraps himself in a blanket of darkness and disappears. Engval looks around warily, tense with nerves stretched to the breaking point. Sensing the currents of mana flowing through the trees. Waiting for some disturbance of those currents. He felt a strange feeling, like the touch of nothingness, brush against him. He leapt to the side, apparently not fast enough, because bolts of black fire rushed through where he once stood. His arm was rotted lightly, its pain numbed by its death. Engval’s leap took him behind one of the many stone monoliths that act as intersects in the grove’s intricate pattern. Grimacing in pain and the growing fear within him, Engval weaves a healing spell for his shattered arm. The cool texture of the rock upon which he was leaning is suddenly replaced by a cold emptiness as the rock disappears into nothingness. Stumbling erect, Engval faces towards the laughing face of Richard. “You should see the fear in your eyes, Engval. Surrender now to me and I will put an end to this.” Whispers Richard into the wind. “I can’t do that Richard. I can’t allow you to win this one.” Speaks Engval slowly and with determination. Ignoring his fear, he called upon the power of the storms. A bolt of lightning came crashing down onto the spot where Richard once stood. Gazing up, he caught sight of Richard waving his fingers at him, his voice booming across the forest. Sparks of purple and blue magic leapt from his fingertips, a green-blue ball of rancid smelling flame lancing towards him. He summoned a wall of wind, the fire splattering and evaporating against it. He called upon the frost of the north, sending billowing clouds of deadly, cold ice towards the Doom of Fools. Richards seemed to lance through the air, dodging each cloud with ease. When the final one passed, he pointed at the ground in front of Engval. Words of pain echoed from his mouth, making Engval’s ears bleed. He gasped in fear, as a figure wreathed in acrid smoke and brimstone emerged from the ground. Its hands raised above it, red electricity brimming from fingertip to fingertip. He brought them down, a web of red electricity and fire threatening to swallow him up. Raising a single fingertip, he called upon spirit to create a shield of self, absorbing the blow and dispelling the creature. When the magic cleared, Richard was upon the ground, pointing at him. His smirk was chilling. Laughing again Richard summons spirits to grab Engval’s arms, causing him to fly into a tree. Stunned Engval lies with his back against the tree watching Richard boldly stride towards him. As Richard approaches, Engval reaches into his pouch and clutches the result of the many expeditions and hazards he has sent his friends into. With Richard two lengths away, Engval hurls the blue-stained acorn at Richard’s chest. Deftly, Richard catches the acorn and holds it before him. Holding it between his fingers he closes the final distance until he stands above the prone Engval. “This! This is the great magic that you have sacrificed lives for?” Laughs Richard as he crushes the seed in his hand. “Your magic failed you, old man. Now it is time for you to die.” Raising his scythe, Richard prepares to bring an end to Engval’s existence. Engval smiles at Richard towering over him and at the weapon of his destruction. “You are wrong. Your arrogance has brought you within arm’s reach of your own death.” Slyly speaks Engval. Richard looks down at Engval who has reached out and poked his chest with the branch of a tree. Richard’s look of amusement is washed away as Engval speaks the four ancient words of destruction. Words that were learned when he was allowed to look through the gargoyle’s lens at the Codex of Ultimate Wisdom. Words that have now brought death upon the undying. Richard’s scythe drops to the ground as the magic he once commanded turns traitor upon him. Richard screams in agony as his skin is flayed from his body by the dark, swirling funnel of void magic. Engval watches in fascination as the black vortex spirals and twists in front of him. Realizing the hazard this concentration of magic poses to him he starts to rise when hands turned skeletal grab at his robe and pull him into the whirling vortex. The black vortex continues to swirl and expand absorbing the natural magic of the grove until the entire grove is hidden within. Just as suddenly the vortex collapses upon it self and is gone. Silence fills the grove where ancient trees stand in silent testimony. A whirlwind dances in the dust. Twisting through the trees in random and free movement. A quick leap into the air and it disappears, sprinkling the gold robed form that lay upon the ground in a blessing of dust. |