The notes of a spell rose from Majandra’s lips, and she cupped her hands, waiting for the release of mystical energy. Absently, she noted that Phathas had moved out from where he had been resting and moved his own hands in the familiar rhythmic gestures of spellcasting. Thus, she was not surprised when the pulsing blue length of her arcane missiles met the blinding electrical force of the mage’s lightning bolt as they reached the creature simultaneously—
Only to wash over it as if they had never existed.
“’Ware the monster!” Phathas yelled. “It’s impervious to magic!”
Majandra cursed as the arch-mage confirmed her fear. Something protected the beast from arcane attack. Most likely this was another of Acererak’s tests.
“Protect the boy!” she heard Kaerion shout to the three guards who rushed forward to assist him. “I’ll distract the creature from here.”
As Majandra moved to assist Phathas in retreating from the center of battle, she was pleased to note that the soldiers had obeyed instantly and now surrounded the boy in a ring of steel.
Two other guards struck at the skeleton from the left side, and as the creature brought one of its scimitars cutting downward, Kaerion leapt up and delivered a double-handed blow to its exposed wrist. Bone chips sprayed in all directions, but Majandra was dismayed to note that the fighter’s attack had little effect on the skeleton. It lashed out with its second scimitar, faster than one would think possible for its size, and the bard cried out as Kaerion sidestepped the attack by inches. The scimitar struck sparks from the stone floor where it rebounded with a screeching crash.
It was then that Vaxor stepped forward, holy symbol held like a shield above his head. As the cleric walked toward the skeleton, she could hear his baritone rumble like the heart of the earth itself, calling upon the power of Heironeous. His holy symbol pulsed with a golden glow, suffused with the energy of the god.
The skeleton paused in its attack and turned toward the cleric. To Majandra, it seemed as if the cleric grew taller with every step, his voice deeper. The monster threw up one arm before its face and took a single step backward.
Suddenly, a cold wind blew through the room, rumbling with the force of a mighty storm. The bard felt the chill pierce through her leather armor and into her skin, like needles of ice. Unbelievably, she saw the incandescence of Vaxor’s holy symbol sputter and die, and she marveled at the silence, knowing that the words to the priest’s prayer had died upon his lips.
The skeleton threw down its arm and moved forward to attack once again, its mouth opening and closing as it did so. The monster was laughing silently!
Unwilling to foul up the concerted defense being mustered by her companions in the relatively close quarters of the room, Majandra pulled out the leather bag that held her harp and quickly unwrapped it. Not bothering to tune, she struck a major chord and began to sing an ancient elven battle song, willing the courage and strength in each word and note to find a home in the hearts of her companions.
Two guards fell quickly beneath the renewed onslaught of the creature, leaving only Bredeth, Kaerion, and Vaxor to face the foe directly. Just as the part of her mind not involved with singing wondered where the ranger could be, an arrow flew out from the crawlway above. She watched as it flew somewhat erratically before striking the creature in the chest and shattering several of its ribs in the process. Another missile followed the first, and this time Majandra saw that the head of this arrow was nothing more than a rounded mass of metal, a flying mace. This one hit the creature near its shoulder, cracking a thick clavicle. Encouraged by the success of Gerwyth’s attack, the bard modulated her song into a major key, and poured the emotions she never had the opportunity to share with Kaerion into the song.
Several steps away, the inspiration for her current song had readied his shield and, deflecting a swift strike by the skeleton, reached down and grabbed a fallen guard’s warhammer. Striking at the creature’s hips, Bredeth and Vaxor covered Kaerion while he adjusted his new weapon. They moved aside with perfect timing as Kaerion gave an incoherent cry before launching himself at the skeleton. Two mighty swings of the hammer against the creature’s leg shattered its tree-trunk of a femur, and it fell to one bony knee.
At that moment, Gerwyth loosed two more blunt-arrows. One tore the creatures left arm from its socket, and the other caught it squarely in the jaw, knocking the skeletons skull from its shoulders with a sickening crack. The monster flailed its remaining arm wildly for a few moments before falling to the floor with a loud crash and splintering into multiple pieces.
Majandra stopped playing at that moment and drew her stinging fingers to her mouth. She was surprised to note the copper-taste of blood in her mouth.
“Well done, my friends!” Phathas said as he inspected the now lifeless bits of bone that littered the floor of the room. “Well done indeed.”
Vaxor and Landra were already seeing to the wounded, and the bard was relieved to know that neither of the guards who had fallen was dead. She was doubly relieved to discover that Kaerion’s wounds, while bleeding profusely, were not life threatening.
“That was fancy shooting, Gerwyth,” Majandra said as she watched a guard bind the tear in Kaerion’s arm with a thin cloth.
“Thank you,” the ranger replied, dropping down lightly from his perch in the crawlway above. “I had those arrows made special by a master fletcher. They don’t fly worth a damn, but they sure do the job once they hit.” The elf turned to where Phathas and Vaxor stood, conferring. “Well,” he said in loud voice, “I’ve had about enough of this room. I think it’s time we made our way back to the main hall.”
Majandra agreed wholeheartedly and was collecting her gear for the brief ascent when she heard a small voice from somewhere opposite the crawlway. “Wait, everyone.” it said. “I think I’ve found something. It looks like a trapdoor.”
The bard looked to the source of the voice and found Adrys standing near the mass of the giant skeleton’s skull. She moved quickly to his side and examined the area he was pointing to. Sure enough, the level plane of the floor was broken by a thin seam, which lay several inches below the surrounding stone.
“It certainly is a door,” the half-elf said. “It looks as if the force of the skull falling in this area triggered it open. Good eyes, Adrys.”
It only took a few moments to clear the skull away from the area and finish the job that it had begun. Below her, Majandra could see the uneven stone walls of yet another tunnel.
“It looks like it’s you and me again, Gerwyth,” Kaerion said as the rest of the group prepared for the descent.
“I’d like to go, as well,” Bredeth interjected. “You could always use another sword at your backs.”
Majandra heard the familiar eagerness in the noble’s voice, tinged with a touch of uncertainty at the two companions’ possible response. At least that sounded more like the Bredeth she knew. Idly, she hoped that Kaerion took him up on his offer. The noble was always easier to deal with when he got his way.
“No problem,” Gerwyth said at last, clapping the noble on the arm. “Another sword could definitely come in handy—especially the way Kaerion swings his around like an apprentice butcher trying to kill turkeys with a meat cleaver.”
Majandra’s laughter covered the black-maned fighter’s response, but she could see by the man’s rueful smile that he was not offended. Within moments, the three were in the tunnel and out of sight.
This was, she reflected, the hardest part of adventuring—waiting for someone else to do the job. The fact that this someone else was also someone that she cared for deeply only made it worse. Thus it seemed like ages before she saw the light grow brighter in the tunnel. A moment later, she heard Kaerion’s voice.