Revenge of the Gamer

This story was originally created as fan fiction for an Everquest 2 character that I play.  I liked it so much that I overhauled it and converted it to the Faelands world where my novel is set.  The resulting story is my strongest to date and I hope you enjoy it. -Chris

Plumes of smoke drifted skyward as broad swathes of Enuria were consumed by flame. They drifted through cracks in the pearly dome that had protected the city for centuries.  Sections of the great dome had fallen inward to crush whole neighborhoods, and patches of blue gaped through the uneven holes dotting its surface.

Centuries of art, literature and cultural history were so much ash now. The surviving sections of the city were choked with smoke and the screams of the dying. The defenders had been driven from the shining walls, and now they were being driven again. The invaders harried them through the marble streets, and those who stood and fought were slaughtered to a man.

Kavak had no idea where the invaders had come from or how they’d gotten so close without their assault being detected.  It hardly mattered now, he thought bitterly. All that did matter was survival. Enuria’s beauty was lost, but as long as her children lived they could rebuild. They had to get to safety before the next wave crashed over them.

He rose from his crouch and peered over the cracked marble wall. It was difficult to spot anything through the haze of smoke, but he thought he spied movement in the distance. The harsh cries of bestial Orokh echoed through mostly empty streets. They didn’t have long.

“Chancellor,” Kavak suppressed a wave of loathing as he rounded on the old man. He stood amidst three other figures, all wearing versions of the same frightened face, “Enuria is lost and if we stay we die with it. You’ve lived here longer than any of us. Is there a route out of the city?” It pained Kavak to admit the loss of his home, but like it or not it was the truth.

“The king is dead, Captain.  Our people have been routed and the city is surrounded,” the Chancellor answered in an emotionless voice. He rose gracefully to his feet brushing absently at an ash caked locke of silver hair.  His normally snowy robes were stained a sooty black and a bruise purpled his delicate cheek.  He seemed to have given up, although he possessed his usual calm.

“Chancellor, forgive me for being blunt but as long as you live Enuria survives.  We need a leader, and I am oathbound to keep you alive,” Kavak sighed.  It was a struggle to keep his features free of anger, particularly after what the man had so recently done. “There must be some way for us to escape.  What about the old tunnels under the city?”

Something unreadable flashed across the Chancellor’s features at the mention of the tunnels, and after a moment the ghost of a smile bloomed.  The curl of his lips was so slight another might have missed it, but Kavak recognized the cruel smirk.  The man knew something about the ancient tunnels, but his features had already faded back to that unreadable mask.

“You’re certain we can’t escape through the southern gate?”  he raised a snowy eyebrow. “I doubt the enemy has encircled us given the passes they’d have to lead their troops through.”

“They’ll have sent a sortie at the very least.  These are not Orokh raiders, sir.  We are facing an organized opponent, and if we chance the gate I believe they’ll be waiting for us,” Kavak struggled to keep the anger from his voice. Dealing with the man was difficult, but he needed to get past his reservations and do his duty.  

“Your words are wise as always captain, and I believe your plan has merit,” the Chancellor nodded regally. “There are indeed ancient tunnels that our foes have no idea exist.  If we cannot use the gate we will make for the tunnels.  We may even find weapons in the ancient tombs which might help us drive back the invaders.”

“We can’t desecrate their tombs.  That’s sacrilege,” Alysha’s sapphire eyes flashed.  She made five feet intimidating as she glared up at the chancellor. Streaks of pale skin traced a path through the grime where her tears had fallen, though they’d stopped some time ago.  You’d never guess her lustrous hair was platinum under all the soot, or that she was a cousin to a queen.

“Please Alysha.  Now isn’t the time,” Kavak settled an affectionate hand on his fiancé’s shoulder and her expression softened.  “We need to get out of the city.  Preferably without desecrating the tombs of the founders.” he turned back to the Chancellor. 

The man had the ability to overrule any decision Kavak made, and that would be catastrophic now.  If they fell to bickering the enemy would be on them before knew it, and all of them would die here.

“I make no promises captain.  I will do whatever it takes to ensure my survival, and there are objects in the tombs that might aid us,” sparks struck as the old man touched gazes with him, but in the end Kavak’s training took over and he looked away.

“Of course sir.  What’s the best route to reach the tunnels?” he asked in a neutral tone.  Alysha stiffened under his hand, but he knew she understood. 

“Travelling on the surface is suicide as I cannot use my magic to cloak us.  To do so risks unwanted attention.” the Chancellor said.  His tone was mild as if the situation were normal and the screams of the dying weren’t echoing around them.  Kavak resented the man’s calm.  Didn’t he care that Enuria was burning?

“Yes sir.  Without your magic we’ll be spotted and run to ground if we stay on the surface,” Kavak knew he sounded surly and that just made him angrier.

“Very well  If we can make it into the sewers there is a tunnel leading to the tombs,” the Chancellor said. “From there I can guide us through all the way to the Khalist mountains without needing to surface.  Would you be so kind as to find us a route into the sewers, captain?”

“Of course, Chancellor.  Feras, Thelia get ready to move out.” He turned to face the last pair of people in the room. Together they made five.  Five out of the fifty they’d began with that morning.

Thelia’s eyes glittered from the shadowed edge of the ruined room, and were the only sign anyone was there.  Her black leathers and raven hair made a deeper darkness in that corner, and she seemed to melt into the wall.  Had he not known where to look he’d never have found her.

Feras rose wearily still cradling his mangled arm, but his eyes were sharp as he scanned the haze outside. Kavak’s older brother had taken the injury during the last exchange, and they were too far from the temple of Aelianna to seek healing even if anyone were alive to give it. 

“Good, then let’s get moving. Feras take point. Thelia you’re on rearguard. Alysha keep an eye on the Chancellor.  In fact, keep both eyes on him.  If he dies this is all for nothing,” Kavak’s tone was confident, though he felt anything but. These people looked to him for leadership and unlike the chancellor he refused to let them down. They had no one else.

Feras darted through the shattered door frame and into the thick haze wrought by the fires. He vanished almost immediately, though Kavak strained to catch sight of his retreating form. There was no trace save his receding footsteps, which echoed too loudly around them.

“Follow quickly,” Kavak darted after his brother, eyes constantly scanning the haze in search of any threat.  They were out there somewhere.  Alysha came next, followed by the Chancellor who looked as if he were out for a stroll rather than fleeing for his life.  That cruel smile flashed across his features once more, filling Kavak with unease.  What was the man hiding?

The ragged group filed after him as quickly as they could, with Thelia falling a bit behind to watch their backs. They stumbled over rubble and tried not to look at the shattered buildings around them. The day before the city had been full of laughter, and it was too painful to think of all they’d lost in so short a time. No one spoke and the only sound was the scuffing of boots on stone, or the occasional cough from the smoke.

“Over here,” Feras called through the haze. A moment later his brother’s hulking form emerged. “I found a grate. We can enter the sewers h-” A sound like an angry hornet buzzed by Kavak and cut off his brother’s words. 

It took him several heartbeats to understand what had happened.  A black fletched arrow had appeared in his brother’s throat. His mouth worked soundlessly and he looked as if he wanted to ask a question. Feras sagged to his knees as blood frothed from his mouth, and he clutched weakly at the arrow with his undamaged arm.

Kavak had seen enough of death to know the wound was fatal.  He sank to his knees and cradled his brother’s head on his lap as numbness stole over him.  No.  His brother couldn’t die.  It wasn’t fair.  They’d made it through so much, and they were so close to the sewers.  It wasn’t bloody fair.  He cursed Thandres, the fickle Steward of luck.

Feras stared up at him, eyes pleading.  Kavak knew what he was asking for, and he knew he must grant his brother’s final request.  He drew a long knife from his belt and in one swift motion rammed the blade through the ash caked ringmail.  It sank into his brother’s heart, and the light left his eyes forever.  He wanted to sit there and grieve, but he knew there was no time.  If they didn’t get moving they were all dead.  Part of his mind recoiled at how easily he accepted his sibling’s death. He simply could not afford the time to grieve.

“Alysha get that sewer grate open. Thelia, give us some cover,” Kavak bellowed, eyes streaming tears he refused to acknowledge.  He forced the grief back and focused on the moment.

Alysha eyes were full of pain, but Kavak didn’t let himself meet her gaze as she staggered past. Instead he interposed himself between her and their pursuers. An arrow came streaking out of the smoke, but he batted it aside with his tower shield.

Thelia sprinted past Kavak and leapt into the air.  Kicking off a soot stained wall she let her momentum carry her high enough to catch the tiled lip of the second story with one hand. The scout flipped atop the slate roof and slipped her bow from her shoulder. Her hands blurred as she knocked an arrow and let it fly, and a moment later they were rewarded with an agonized bellow in the distance.

“That ought to keep their heads down,” Thelia gave a wild laugh. She plastered herself flat against the roof to make her profile smaller. “Get out of here Kav. I’ll buy you some time.”

Alysha closed her eyes and concentrated, though that was the only sign that she was spinning.  Several hearbeats later an explosion of light flashed through the smoke. Where the grate had been lay a smoking hole.

“Let’s move,” he bellowed.  Rising to his feet Kavak took the Chancellor by the shoulder and pitched him through the hole.  The man’s dignity was stripped away for a moment, and he gave a squawk as he disappeared from view.  Alysha dove in next, and he sprinted after her as arrows fell like rain.

Something punched him hard in the back and he staggered forward in an attempt to keep his balance. Kavak tripped on the shattered edge of the sewer grate, and tumbled through to crash heavily into the tepid water at the bottom of the long drop. The arrow in his back snapped as he landed, and a fresh wave of agony crashed over him.

“Kav are you alright?” Alysha was at his side and helping him to his feet before he’d even broken the surface of the disgusting muck he’d landed in.  Even covered in muck she was beautiful.

The alarm in her voice surprised him, and he glaced over his shoulder to see what she was staring at.  Three inches of wood ending in a jagged point jutted from the middle of his back.  It explained why every breath was agony, and why his fiance was so concerned.

“I’m fine,” he grunted, though he knew it was a lie.  If not for the adrenaline surging through him he’d probably be howling in pain and clawing at the wound.  Only the certainty that stopping meant death for all of them kept him on his feet. “Which way from here, Chancellor?”  Alysha eyed him reproachfully, but let the matter drop.

The chancellor gave a start before answering.  He’d worn a considering look and had been staring at the sword belted at Kavak’s side.  What was the bastard planning?  He wouldn’t put it past the mant to sacrifice both him and Alysha if it would save his skin.

“This way,” the chancellor answered, once more in complete control.  His formerly white robes were stained completely brown, and the hem floated in the filth as the old man hobbled through the waist high muck for all he was worth.  The others hurried after.

“How long will Thelia be able to keep them at bay?” Alysha’s voice was taut with worry, and her robes were in nearly as sorry a state as the Chancellor’s. Thelia had been her best friend since he’d introduced the pair three years ago.

“A few minutes. Probably less. It’s best to assume they’re right behind us,” Kavak shot a nervous glance over his shoulder as they continued down the tunnel. “I’m just hoping she was smart enough to flee before they caught her. If they know who they’re chasing they might let her go and come after us.”

“Kav, if we don’t make it through this I just wanted you to know…” Alysha began, but he silenced her with a kiss.  He knew it might be the last they shared, and he tried to impart all his love into the single urgent embrace.  Parting a few moments later was the hardest thing he’d ever done.

“We’re going to make it. Hold on to that Aly,” he whispered.  Harsh Orokh cries came from behind. Their pursuers had found the sewer grate.

Kavak and Alysha hurried after the chancellor who was disappearing around a bend in the distance. They were tired, and in Kavak’s case a great deal of pain, so they saved their breath for running. What felt like hours passed as they slogged through the muck filled tunnels, and Kavak got the sense that they were going down a gentle slope.

Eventually the chancellor stopped in front of a discolored brick wall. Other than the chalky stone it looked identical to the walls they’d previously passed, but the man seemed to believe he’d found something of great import.

“The brick isn’t very thick as it was built to conceal the corridor on the other side,” he sighed as he ran both hands along the smooth surface. “Can you break through it, captain?”

“Can’t you spin something? You’re one of the most powerful adepts in Enuria aren’t you?” he shot back with more anger than he’d intended.  The pain in his back must be effecting him more than he thought.

He moderated his tone before continuing, “A spell will get through there with a lot less noise than I’d make. If I batter that thing down the Orokh will definitely hear.”

“Yes, but if I spin they will feel it. They’ll track us to this exact location in a matter of moments,” the Chancellor eyes were tight with fury, but his tone was as flat as ever. “Which would you prefer? They hear a noise and guess our direction, or they track us with unerring accuracy?”

“Fine. Move aside then.” Kavak growled. He raised his shield and charged the wall with all the strength he could muster. Metal crashed into stone, and he toppled through the thin brick in a shower of dust and stone. The sound had been deafening, and he knew the Orokh must have heard. How close were they?

“Are you alright?” Alysha stepped through and helped him to his feet.  She gave him a sheepish grin, “I seem to be asking that a lot lately.”

“I’m fine,” he grunted through gritted teeth. He was in agony and the wound in his back sent pulses of fire surging through him every time he moved.  At least the pain kept him alert.

It took a moment to adjust to the dimness. They were in a long corridor that led to a narrow flight of stairs in the distance. Sconces were set along the walls, but unlike the sewer they were empty and the tunnel was as black as the souls of the invaders.

“This way,” the chancellor squeezed past Kavak. He left a wet trail that stank of refuse as he hurried down the corridor to the stairs. Somehow his steps were dignified despite the filth.  Kavak allowed Alysha to pass him as well before following.

The trio descended using their fingers to guide them along the walls. Kavak tried counting the stairs, but gave up after the first hundred. Many minutes later they were still descending and there was no end in sight. That was when they heard it.

“Listen,” he hissed, and the trio froze. No one so much as breathed. From above came the unmistakable sound of metal shod boots on stone, and harsh guttural grunts. Their pursuers had found the tunnel. He turned back to his companions and whispered. “Keep moving. As quickly as you can. Alysha, do you have your wineskin?”

“I do,” she answered, but there was confusion in her voice. She found his hand in the dark and pressed the leather bound skin into it.

“Keep moving. I’m right behind you,” he knelt as the pair continued their descent. Pouring carefully he slicked one of the steps with wine, then drew out his own skin and added the contents.  Scooping as much filth from his cloak and armor as he could he added that as well, until the step was covered by a wide greasy puddle.

Normally the beastial half men had a keen sense of smell, but he was hoping the sewer would have dulled it enough that they’d miss the wine.  If he was very lucky one of the Orokh would lose their footing and fall to his death. That would also warn them that their pursuers had reached this point.

Kavak sprinted down the stairs as quickly as he dared and within minutes had caught up to Alysha and the chancellor. They were waiting at a landing at the base of the stairs. He couldn’t see far in the darkness, but something about the way the air moved told him he was in a wide room.

“Do you sense that?” the Chancellor whispered excitedly. “There’s something powerful off that way.” It was too dark for Kavak to see which direction the man had indicated.

“I feel it,” apprehension colored Alysha’s voice. “We’ve entered the ancient tombs.  Is the force we feel the magic from the wards?”

“I don’t know but we’d better find out quickly.” Kavak interrupted. “Our pursuers are getting closer and they aren’t tired or wounded. They’re going to catch us unless we find a place to hide or a weapon to use against them.  Much as I hate desecrating the tombs of the ancients, I don’t see what other choice we have.  Chancellor, is there anything in them we can use to defend ourselves?”

As if to punctuate his words a distant clatter echoed down the stairs. It went on for long moments and grew louder before finally stopping. Good, one of the Orokh had fallen into his trap and that might make the rest a bit more wary. Maybe that would slow them down.  Probably not though.

Kavak whispered a prayer to Celeste which shifted his vision allowing him to see the warm outlines of his pursuers some way up the stairs. He counted seven, and knew they’d be the best the traitors could send. They knew that the only way to end Enuria once and for all was to kill their leadership. Short of the king none stood higher than the Chancellor, and that meant he’d be their top target.

“Over here,” Alysha gave an excited call. Kavak hurried over to find her and the chancellor standing in front of a wide door.

“What am I looking at?” he whispered.

A ball of clear white light sprang to life over the Chancellor’s palm, and spots danced in his vision.  Excited shouts came from their pursuers, who’d apparently also seen the illumination.

At least the light showed Kavak what he was looking at. The door was cut from thick slats of oak blackened with age. Red runes had been traced in the door, and in place of a handle was a raised section with a handprint molded into it.

“I thought this was the correct one.  Beyond this door lies one of the most powerful blades ever forged.” the Chancellor whispered excitedly as he examined the runes. “Captain, if you take it up you can dispatch our pursuers, and I can lead us to safety.” Kavak didn’t like the oily gleam in the Chancellor’s eyes, and he noted the return of the cruel smile.  So this had been the Chancellor’s true goal.

“The runes represent the most dire warning I’ve ever seen,” Alysha broke in angrily. “Whatever lies within that room the ancestors sealed it, and asked that it never be opened.  I don’t know what game you’re playing at Chancellor, but I will not let you endanger Kavak to save your own twisted hide.”

“I’m tempted to gut you and leave you here for them,” anger surged through him.  The loss of his brother and his home warred with his oath to serve this man, winning in the end.  He made no attempt to temper his tone. “What’s really behind that door?”

“You were the one who said we don’t have any other choice, but I’ll make this an order if I need to,” the Chancellor’s tone was icy. “As I said one of the most powerful blades ever forged lays within that room.  You can either prepare to fight them here or let me open the door so that we at least have a chance. I leave the choice to you, captain, but I urge you to remember it is not just my life at stake.” he glanced pointedly at Alysha, and a fresh wave of anger surged through Kavak.

“Open it.  Maybe we can hide in the room,” he sighed after a moment’s hesitation. Alysha looked furious, but didn’t contradict him

He was reluctant to use the blade that lay within, particularly after seeing that cruel smile play across the Chancellor’s features.  The ancestors would not have sealed it away unless it was dangerous.  Still, whatever lay within gave them a chance, no matter how slim.  If they stayed here they faced certain death. 

The chancellor placed his hand over the palm print and a soft crimson glow flared as the runes responded. The trio held a collective breath, but after a moment the runes winked out. The door swung open of its own accord.

“It worked,” the chancellor sounded surprised. “After so many centuries I couldn’t be sure.  Thandres must have blessed us.”

“Or cursed us,” Kavak replied with a great deal of sarcasm. He pushed the door open and stepped inside. Seeing no immediate threat he ushered the pair inside before pressing the door closed.

“Kavak, look at this,” Alysha’s voice was filled with wonder despite their current circumstances. He turned to see what had fascinated her.

The illumination from the Chancellor’s spell provided enough light to see, but the corners of the room were shrouded in shadow. They were standing in a wide chamber with a throne propped on a dais at the far end. On that throne sat a skeletal figure with a silver diadem on its brow, and its right hand rested on a naked blade laid across its knees. 

The blade glittered blue, as only Enurian steel could.  Delicate runes filled with diamond dust had been etched along the weapon’s length, and Kavak was forced to admit that he’d never seen so fine a blade.

“He must have been there since before Enuria was built, from back when this place was nothing but a mine. I wonder who he was? Or how many centuries this room has lain undisturbed?” she mused. Her eyes had taken on a light of feverish excitement, and she crossed the dusty cobblestones as she headed for the throne.

“Do not touch that sword,” the chancellor boomed, sending echoes through the room. “It is our salvation, but do not forget the runes on the door Alysha.  Only Kavak should pick it up.”

“If it’s not safe for me, it’s not safe for him,” Alysha snapped as she rounded on the Chancellor. “I don’t know wh-” Her words were cut short as the ringing steps of their pursuers echoed on the marble floor outside the room.

Muffled grunting in the harsh Orokah tongue came through the door. A moment later a flash of red flared under the door, and an Orokh curse followed a cry of pain.

“They’re trying to get in,” the chancellor’s voice was no longer afraid. Now it was flat and heavy with defeat. “If you won’t take up the sword we’re all dead.” Kavak ignored him.  There had to be another way.

“When they come through I’ll take their initial charge. Chancellor if you know any spells that can kill a man now would be the time,” Kavak panted. He dearly wanted to lay down and rest, but he needed to attend to his duty. He could rest when he was dead.

Something heavy thudded against the door. After a moment it sounded again. They were chopping their way through.

“Why aren’t the runes keeping them out?” he asked the Chancellor.

“We broke them when we entered,” the old man sighed. “I was afraid this might happen. The room didn’t reseal properly when the door closed. They’ll be able to chop through that door, and the ward is too weak to stop them.”

Again and again something pounded into the door until the wood began to shiver. Minutes passed until one of the blows punctured the door. The silvery gleam of an axe head was jerked away and a tiny hole was left. The Orokh outside grunted excitedly and axe blows continued to rain.

Kavak longed to go to Alysha, to comfort her and tell her loved her. The best he could do was look at her, but he poured his heart into that glance. Her smile said she knew what he couldn’t say, and that she shared it. At least they would die together.

The door crashed open in a shower of splinters that rebounded off his shield like hail. A figure leapt through the gap, but Kavak glided forward to meet him. The Orokh was taller and heavier than him, and its tusks glinted in the light of the Chancellor’s spell.  It’s eyes glittered red, and thick bristly hair covered its face and head in uneven patches.  Long fingers tipped by wickedly sharp talons that drank in the light gripped a pair of barbed short swords.

He caught the assassin’s blow on his shield and rammed his blade into the man’s thigh. Before the Orokh could do more than grunt in pain he swung his shield with all his strength catching his opponent full in the face. The Orokh stumbled into his companions in a spray of blood before collapsing bonelessly to the floor.

Unfortunately this meant Kavak’s shield was held aloft and not in a position to block the hail of crossbow bolts that shot through the door. One ricocheted off his breastplate and another went wide. The third caught him in the hand and he dropped his shield with a deafening clatter. The bolt pierced both sides of his gauntlet, and three inches of blood stained wood jutted from the back of his hand.

Kavak waded into his foes determined to take as many with him as he could. The first pair held crossbows, and now that they’d fired they scrambled to draw the short swords belted at their side.  Evidently they hadn’t expected him to take the offensive, and he’d caught them off guard. He lunged forward impaling an Orokh through the heart, but when the thing staggered back it ripped the sword from Kavak’s grip.

Without pausing Kavak stepped into the doorway. He backhanded one of his assailants and the bolt jutting through the back of his hand caught the Orokh in the eye sending the beast staggering back as it clutched its face. He reached for his belt knife, but the attackers gave him no time to reach it.  A feminine voice reached the crescendo of a spell, and Kavak had a sinking feeling as the words died away.

A force picked him up like a ragdoll and hurled him across the chamber. He sailed nearly forty feet crashing heavily into the throne, which knocked the high backed wooden chair from its perch. The throne and the skeletal figure tumbled to the cobblestones in a massive clatter, and Kavak was trapped under the mess. Struggle as he might he couldn’t free himself, which meant his attackers could kill him at their leisure.

“Chancellor, we meet at last,” a melodious voice preceded one of the most beautiful women Kavak had ever seen.  She didn’t just step into the room, she glided.   “You led us quite the chase. If its any consolation you did far better than your king.  We caught him so quickly I have to wonder if he wanted to die.”

The woman’s ivory hair complimented an oval face tinged the scarlet of a rising sun.  It was an unnatural color, and one Kavak had never seen on a person before.  A pair of short horns rose gracefully from her temples, and when she smiled it revealed dazzling white fangs sharp enough to rend a man’s flesh.  She wore a low cut bodice that barely covered more than ample curves, and a black leather skirt fell in folds around delicate ankles.  She was beautiful and terrible at the same time.  What was she?

“Kill them,” Gold and silver bracelets decorating a slender wrist clinked as the sorceress jerked a finger at the Chancellor.

The Orokh flowing into the room fanned out and drew barbed short swords similar to the ones he’d seen earlier. Their first target was Alysha who stood protectively in front of the chancellor. This can’t be happening. Alysha was about to die and he couldn’t even move.

I can give you the power to save her. A voice sounded in his head, though where it came from he couldn’t say. All you have to do is pick up the sword and you will have the strength to kill your attackers.

Resting within easy reach was the blade that had lain across the skeleton’s knees. It was an ancient weapon, and the blade glittered enticingly in the dimness.  Kavak considered picking it up, but the runes on the door and Alysha’s warning were fresh in his mind. There was no telling what would happen.

Time is running out. If you don’t act now she’ll die. The weapon whispered seductively.

That made up his mind. Perhaps something catastrophic would happen, but the alternative was laying there helpless while the woman he loved and the man he’d sworn to protect were killed in front of him. Kavak seized the hilt and willed whatever force had spoken to give him the power to save them.

Triumphant cackling filled his mind and suddenly he was tumbling backwards as something seized control of his body.  It thrust the throne off of him with far more strength than he ever could have mustered. The ancient wood went spinning away drawing the eyes of the assassins who’d nearly reached Alysha.

“He’s possessed by the An’Khalesh,” the sorceress shrieked. “Kill him. Do it now before he’s fully awake!”

The three assassins fanned out to encircle him. Kavak’s normal response would have been to go on the offensive, but he was no longer in charge of his body. Whoever or whatever was gave a sardonic smile, and let the tip of his sword rest against the ground. He waited until the assassins had encircled him before speaking.

“So, these are the mighty Orokh. I’m not terribly impressed. Let’s see how well you fight,” the voice was his and yet not his. It terrified him to hear someone else using his throat.

Then the dance began. Each assassin wielded a pair of short blades, and they darted and spun around Kavak in a flurry of steel. Had he been himself he’d have been dead in the first few seconds. As it was he toyed with them. At first he did nothing but avoid and parry, and he made it look effortless.

“Pathetic,” he drawled. 

Then the killing began. His blade hummed as it severed an assassin’s arm, sending the man stumbling back with a choked cry and a spray of blood.  The sword flashed unerringly toward the second Orokh’s heart, and the bestial half-man brought up his weapon to parry.  Kavak’s strength seemed limitless and the Enurian steel sheered through his opponent’s weapon like cheap tin, continuing on to impale the man through the chest.

He lunged forward with his free hand to seize the final assassin by the throat. The Orokh beat furiously at his wrist, but couldn’t free himself from Kavak’s grip. He interposed the beast’s body between him and the sorceress just as the she finished spinning another spell. A huge ball of ice shot towards him, and it impacted against the assassin still in his grip.

The Orokh gave a shriek that cut off abruptly and Kavak hurled the corpse towards the sorceress. She dodged nimbly out of the way, but that gave him time to sprint across the room. By the time she looked up it was to see his blade crashing down on her shoulder. It sliced through her chest spilling her corpse to the ground in a pool of blood.

Kavak was speechless. The sword had wiped out the assassins, and saved the lives of the Chancellor and his fiancé.  Perhaps they’d been wrong about it. Thank you. He thought to the blade. Do you have a name?

My name is Misery. The sword thought back in a smug voice. I wouldn’t thank me just yet. I’m not done.

All Kavak could do was scream silently as he realized what the sword meant. It bore down on Alysha, and her expression of horror and betrayal broke his heart. Kavak couldn’t look away as his sword rose and fell in a flash. Color went out of the world. He knew now why the sword was called Misery. 

The blade was still dripping with her blood when he turned to face the Chancellor.

“An’Khalesh, in the name of the Enuria I command you,” the Chancellor rose to his full height. “Our city has been invaded, and only you can drive the enemy from our walls.  We need your help.”

“What do I care about your pathetic little city?” Kavak sneered, or Misery did anyway.  He was still in shock from the death of his fiance, and was too numb to absord everything that was going on.  He glided across the room raising his blade menacingly over the Chancellor.

“No,” the man wailed, his composure finally breaking. “You’re supposed to obey me.  The wards on the door constrain you…”

“They did constrain me,” Kavak leaned in low and gave the Chancellor a predatory grin. “You broke them when you opened the door.  Thank you for freeing me, and for giving me such a wonderful body.  Though it does seem a little worse for wear.” He turned to glance at the arrow still jutting from his back, and made a tutting sound.

“Please, I can give you anything.  Gold, knowledge of all that has occurred during your imprisonment.  Whatever you want,” the Chancellor pleaded.  His eyes shone with desperation.

“There is only one thing you have that I want little worm,” Kavak’s face was split by a manaical grin, and for the second time he watched the sword rise and fall against his will.  There was a sharp flash of steel and a spray of blood, and then the Chancellor collapsed.

What had he become?