Chapter 3.20: Deadly Desert Deathmatch
The tower could wait. It was huge, ungainly, and likely to topple into one of your traps tomorrow. You turn from the camp, and go after the Gieloth general instead.
Approaching from an angle, you catch up with them before they reach the fortress. You leap, pouncing on the closest scout with your bare hands. As he falls from his horse, his neck broken, you land and draw your sword in a circle. The unnamed Honourblade flashes darkly and takes off the legs of another scout. Without pausing, you run at the general, who has reined his horse back. He is tall and commanding, with piercing eyes that almost seem to shine in the dark. Before you can reach him, his remaining men jump in front of him, the three of them attempting to take you on. You don’t even allow them the time to reflect upon their folly.
As the last of the scouts collapse in a bloody heap, you hear the Gieloth speak. “That was beautiful. Your skill is unmistakeable.” He - or she, you really are never sure with these things - claps loudly, having gotten off his horse. In the dim starlight, you can barely make out a smug smirk on his face. “You fight as well as the rumours say, Ean.”
You do not bother to retort. This man… no, this thing just sacrificed his own men to watch you fight them. You grip your sword tightly. It responds to your anger, pulsating rapidly in your hands. You keep a calm head, however. The Gieloth knew of your Sumerian name. This makes him dangerous in more ways than one. You step back from the general and take up a defensive posture.
He draws his own sword, a large, gleaming silvery crescent that reflected the moon’s light as though it was the moon itself. His eyes shone with a gleam. “I am Baran, son of the god Marduk and High Commander of his armies.” He pronounces the name Marduk slowly, as if savouring the taste.
I think… this guy is bad news.
“Lord Marduk himself is completing the subjugation of the Assyrians, so I fear I will have to be the one who kills you, dog.” Baran points his sword at you, grinning, and moves. He turns into a blur; you could barely follow his movements before his sword clashes against yours. Even if you could read his intentions, you’d defended just in the nick of time – his speed is superior, and so is his strength. That one clash had left your arms shaking. Blow after blow comes raining down on you, and it is all you can do to deflect them.
“What is wrong, Ean? Are you not the man who slayed the Three Sisters of House Me’kras?” laughs Baran, as he brings his sword down on your head. You sway to the left, allowing the blade to graze your shoulder – but that leaves you open for the follow-up kick to your ribs, coming from the right – you bring your elbow down and deflect the kick – it lands harmlessly into the sand, Baran does a pivot with that foot, and he is suddenly within your guard, face to face. He smashes his sword hilt into your chest and you tumble backwards, sprawling into the sand. You recover and roll away just as his sword slices into the ground just where you were moments before, and then lunge forward as fast as you can. This time, you catch him off-guard, and he barely manages to bring his sword back up to block a ferocious strike from your Honourblade, executed at full strength. Baran almost sinks to his knees momentarily, before giving a grunt and pushing you back almost casually. He slashes at your chest with a loud yell. You put up your sword to parry, and use the momentum from his slash to guide your own blade towards his chest in one swift, fluid movement. Baran’s eyes widen, and his left hand swings up and grabs your sword by its blade. His brute strength stops your slash entirely, and tendrils erupt from the wounds of his hand, wrapping around the Honourblade. His mouth twitches smugly.
“I caught you.”
You give him a smirk, mirroring his own.
“I caught you.”
Channeling your powers through the Honourblade, you unleash a psychic assault upon the arrogant Gieloth. He screams as his mind unravels. Pressing your advantage, you attempt to scramble and shatter his brain… and your assault rebounds on you. You reel from the full force of your own attack, but luckily you had your own defences up – you avoid scrambling your mind this way. You step back, temporarily disoriented.
Baran gasps for breath as he drops to his knees. He clutches his head and chuckles. “Nabu, you bastard. I didn’t even know you put a shield on my mind. I guess I owe you one, brother.” You pant and stare at the Gieloth. His brother must be a tremendously powerful psychic to create a defense capable of actually rebounding an attack on the attacker. You cannot try one as long as it is up… which means you will have to find another way to take Baran down.
Your opponent yells and comes at you again, more ferocious than before. This time, however, you have begun to adapt to his attacks. There is no time to concentrate and use your other powers; you will have to take him down with your physical prowess. You match him blow for blow, your attacks grazing each other as you desperately deflect and strike back with all you have. Dark steel met bright as the speed and strength of the attacks delivered by him and you begin to increase, sending the sand around you flying. From a distance, it looked like a small sandstorm had started up. All of a sudden, you notice an opening on his right. In the fast-paced heat of battle, you instinctively take it before your telepathy can even warn you of the danger – and almost immediately you pay for your mistake. As you slice off his right arm, Baran’s crescent sword comes screaming in from your left and tears your abdomen open, as you step backward just in time to prevent him from cutting you into two at the waist. Your guts spill out into the sand as you scream in pain. Black tentacles shoot from Baran’s arm socket and wrap themselves around your throat. He laughs again, mocking you.
“Not good enough. You don’t think fast enough, dog!”
You choke on your reply. Your consciousness was fading fast.
Well, that was stupid of you!
Maybe you might want to stop fighting at high speeds if you can’t handle it?
If you’d slowed down for an instant during the exchange of blows, you’d have been dead, but you can’t even concentrate enough to tell the voices that.
At least that Gieloth bitch gave you something to work with.
We’ll do something to help you out, but this is not going to be pretty for your body afterwards. Hope you can take it, kiddo.
It’d probably be better than dying here without defeating Baran. Guided by the voices, you focus on the Honourblade, willing your sense of self to merge with the blade borne of your own body. It shrieks, flaring with power…
***
A. Your long neglected telekinesis powers come to life with a vengeance. Instead of using them to push or smash, you focus it into a hold… a hold strong enough to crush stone. You hit Baran with all you have. He barely has time to scream before you compress him into a little meat ball the size of a human head.
B. The air crackles with an intense charge. You concentrate it into a pillar calling the heavens... and the lightning replies. You sustain the lightning strike with the last remnants of your flagging consciousness. The Gieloth general is fried to a crisp as a billion volts light up his body for long, agonizing seconds. His body bursts into flame, and you can see the black tendrils turning into ashes within the blinding light.
C. Your focus creates a giant spear of bright energy, seemingly out of thin air, in front of you. The dark desert glows as if illuminated by the sun. Baran’s eyes widen in surprise. As it shoots towards him, he brings up his sword to deflect it – to no avail. The spear burns through his raised arm and weapon without stopping and pierces his core. As the spear dissipates into the cold desert air, the body of the Gieloth cracks and crumbles into ash.