Bolstered by their previous experiences, the army wasted no time in obeying. They sprang to higher ground, out of the water to the slimy, moss-covered hills.
Not all were swift enough. Something attacked from the mist, white serpents that coiled and struck with hissing sounds. The soldiers shrieked as the tendrils of fog attached to their bodies. Some slashed at the mist with their weapons, but the effort was futile. The blades passed through the living fog without harm, while the coils somehow wrapped about the men even tighter. As their comrades watched helplessly, at least a hundred men died in seconds. The miasma drained their very life's essence, leaving behind husks that looked as though they'd been long dead.
"Stay back." The Reavers voice was thunder as it unsheathed its great sword. The mist took a serpentine form as the Reaver galloped toward it.
Twilight reared without warning, throwing the Reaver from her back. It hit the ground in a roll, immediately springing back on its feet. The Night Mare snorted bluish-white flame from her nostrils into the depth of the fog. The miasma shrieked as its mists scattered. It quickly reformed, thicker and more massive than before.
The Reaver stepped forward and tried to grab Twilight's bridle, but she pulled away. When it tried again, she lowered her thick neck and rammed it with her head, knocking it a few spans back. They stared at each other, her dark eyes into its red embers. With a last reverberating whinny, she turned toward the miasma, which now towered above them like a dragon of roiling fog. The sound that emitted from its open mouth was the gasp of a thousand dying breaths.
The Reaver stepped forward again. Rhanu's breath caught when Ayna left his side to leap in front of the towering death-knight.
"You must stay back. Can you not see your sword can not slay this creature?"
The Reaver paused as though puzzled by her appearance. They both turned at the sound of Twilight's ripping scream.
The Night Mare battled the miasma that swirled around her. Swift as quicksilver, it sought to strike from a blind spot. But Twilight was just as quick. Her hooves flashed as she struck at the phantom creature. Flame bloomed with every strike, and the miasma writhed as though in agony. White tentacles sprang from the miasma's form and wrapped Twilight. Her scream altered into one of pain.
The Reaver strode forward, leaving Ayna no choice but to leap out of its way. "Rhanu, stop him!"
Rhanu seized the Reaver by the arm. He was grateful leather gloves covered his hands because the Reaver's armor was as hot as a cast iron stove. His feet left the ground when the Reaver dragged him forward as though he weighed nothing. Theron and Fregeror leaped to aid him but even combined they were still flung about like rag dolls.
Other Norlanders moved in to assist their king, falling upon the Reaver in a pile of massive bodies. A sound emitted from the Reaver, the furious hiss of a cauldron-sized teakettle. Rhanu squeezed his eyes shut amidst the pile of cursing Norlanders, praying to his forsaken gods that he somehow not meet his end in the dismal swamplands at the hands of his supposed ally.
Something inside of the miasma glowed. A dull red light pulsated in its center like a heartbeat. Twilight struck, billowing liquid flame into the core of the miasma. The creature shrieked again, a million screams bound together and unleashed so piercingly that anyone within a hundred spans fell clutching their ears. Yet it still wrapped around the Night Mare tighter. Flame continued to envelop the creature though Twilight was lost to sight, somewhere in the ivory bowels of the miasma.
Twilight's earsplitting scream resounded a final time as the entire pool exploded in a geyser of flame, knocking the Reaver and the men holding it down. When their vision cleared, there was no trace of the miasma or the Night Mare. Greenish black water rained down as they gazed at one another helplessly. The surrounding army stared in stunned silence as the Reaver slowly waded in the steaming pool. It gripped the hilt of its sword and fell to its knees. The remaining water in the pool steamed and frothed as though sharing the Reaver's pain.
"Stab my eyes!" Theron gasped from where he laid on his back in the murky water. "Wortan's bristly beard! Nay, Fregeror, I need not your help to stand on mine own two feet." He shoved away the helping hand as he rose. He and the others looked at the Reaver, who did not move from his kneeling position. "By Nifolheim's icy hells, someone does need to say something. Will he be all right?"
Rhanu had no answers. The air had changed around them. A damp, pungent scent thickened in his nostrils. The smell was rank, fouling the air so thickly that he almost gagged.
Ayna sensed it at the same time. Her head swiveled as she searched for the source. "Something is wrong."
"How now, Shama?" Theron freed the battle-axe that hung at his side "Something do be wrong, you say? Tell me, are all your kind so wise?"
Ayna waved a hand for silence, taking a cautious step forward. Rhanu followed her gaze.
Murky shapes appeared in the fog, along with the clink of metal and guttural growls. The figures that emerged looked as though someone had tried to combine man and beast and given up in frustration. Patches of bristly fur covered their hunched and disproportionate bodies, which were garbed only in tattered loinclothes and scraps of rusted armor. Their howls were bloodcurdling as they charged the lines, swinging jagged spears and wickedly curved blades. Men screamed as the shadows came alive around them.
"What kind of monsters are these?" Han unsheathed Chiyou from his back. The air brightened in the glittering sword's wake as it shimmered like rippling ice.
"Gorian. They've not been seen since the Age of Despair." Theron's grin was fierce. "They'll soon learn the misfortune of returning when Norland has the field." He hefted his double-bladed axe and threw back his head with a booming roar. "For Wortan! For Melasgar!"
He spurred his shaggy horse into the nearest band of approaching Gorian, closely followed by the Norlanders and a mob of howling Ulfhenar. The Gorian were monstrous, but the Norland king seemed unfazed as he charged their lines. The Ulfhenar snarled and howled like their animalistic foe, fighting just as ferociously. The rest of the army gathered their wits and joined the fray, swelling the grounds with the sounds of battle. Rhanu was swept into the press of heat and clashing weapons. He gritted his teeth and struck at the blurred monstrosities. All that was visible were shadows, armor, teeth, and fur.
Haphazard bands of soldiers cursed and shouted as they fought both their fear and their monstrous combatants. Rhanu caught a glimpse of Meshella, surrounded by a squadron of Norland women that gave as good as their male counterparts. The battle shifted, and he lost sight of her in the shifting hordes of soldiers and monsters. Men fell to the ground screaming as claws and fangs savaged them. Bodies collided against one another when battle formations collapsed, thrown into confusion by the Gorian's chaotic and unpredictable attacks.
"The Light! The Light of Deis and the glory of Leodia!"
General Archambault galloped along the lines atop his white stallion, resplendent in his gleaming cuirass and flaring red cape. A silver mace was in his fist, already black with Gorian blood. His Parandian cavalry followed, wielding curved sabers with grisly efficiency. Their disciplined attack rallied the disorganized forces around them. While the Norlanders and Ulfhenar brawled in a frenzy, the Parandians moved as a structured unit, cutting a wide swath through the horde of Gorian attackers.
Rhanu made his stand at the base of a massive tree that may once have been majestic. What remained was a tragically decayed giant, but it served to protect against an unseen rear attack. Han was at his side, seemingly dwarfed by a pair of Gorian. It didn't matter when Chiyou was in his hand. His attack was fluid as he spun from one to the next. His blade blurred, and the Gorian howled as they fell.