Mazenta's Tale - Part 2

I once again took up my observation point atop the massive gatehouse that separated the inner bailey from the ruins of the outer bailey. I had learned wariness by now, having been far too close to the real fighting when the Lost Hope stormed the gatehouse from below. It had been exciting, seeing the five climb level by level; it should have been six but the dragon priest Brahma had elected to stay behind and practice his weird rites to the dragon god. I admit I was too preoccupied watching the Lost duelling with the fire spitting, walking skeletons and was almost caught in the crossfire when Demona appeared by my perch and started sending beams of eldritch energy their way. Invisible as I was Demona’s wild shots were likely to hit only by accident.

So watching over a two-story drop at the little huddle around the battlefield below I was ready to take wing at any moment. The Lost Hope had destroyed the undead guardians and exited the gatehouse to find a force of hobgoblins spilling from a rundown barracks. Hobgoblins unlike anything seen before, and probably twisted by the Great Curse that changed the arcane forces of the world. Like the horrible, semi-mindless cultists that dared to worship the Insane God and were broken mockeries of Man. The four who has closed with iron flails and shields were naked, covered in an adhesive slime that held fast any weapon that struck them. The two archers who’d fired from the barracks roof were chitin-armored, like a hobgoblin married to a beetle. Standing over the bodies of the naked, slime-dripping hobgoblins the Lost Hope wrinkled their noses as the disgusting creatures. Xandra had to take the time the wrench both of her curved scimitars free. The little murderess Jess looted the bodies, finding little beyond their arms. I swooped low as they entered the barracks, landing without a sound on the roof and spied in from the open trapdoor beneath the framework platform on the roof. Three more towers like it rose from the other roof corners. Inside there was muttering.
“Nothing here but goblin crap-“
“Who’s wounded? Tend to your cuts, especially from those filthy goblin arrows-“
Xandra’s voice, distant and distracted by her wounds, “I need rest.”
“Imaris doesn’t look good either.”
“Then we rest,” Jess the little murderess. “See to barricading the door.”

I scampered up the lashed-together wooden struts of the watch platform as a tattooed arm rose to slam the trapdoor shut. The open-fanged snake mouth tattoo on the thin elven limb left no doubt who. I shuddered and counted myself lucky. That cutter made my wings crawl.

I listened as they slammed things about inside the barracks, barricading the front doors. I couldn’t blame them. Had it only been a day ago when they had taken refuge in one of the still-standing guard towers of the outer keep and had the wake-up call of a catapult stone smash through the wall. That had certainly kicked them out of bed like a burning stick inside an ant’s nest. That time it had only been kobolds: feral, reptilian, miniature dragon wannabees with a pair of contraband siege weapons and itchy trigger talons. But now, since they’d cut their way through the undead guardians at the gatehouse, the Lost Hope was facing the real forces behind the walls of Kallos Keep.

In a few minutes the sounds from within ceased. Here, in the heart of the keep, they’d decided to hide and regain their strength. I eyed the half-dozen corpses they’d left littered on the ground between the barracks and the gatehouse. Yes, this would go well.

I was so ready for them to be discovered that when the first flyer patrolled overhead I simply watched it for a moment. Another one of the bat-winged hobgoblins, flapping erratically in a circle around the inner courtyard, barbed whip-tail lashing lazily in circles. As soon as it spotted the bodies it dived closer, made a single pass and then strained for altitude, winging back towards the far corner of the inner keep. I climbed up the struts of the watchtower and perching at the highest point I could see it descend to the petrified dragon body and thump to the stone platform. It was only moments later when three of the bat-things launched into the air and the figures of misshapen hobgoblins began sprinting over the open ground towards the barracks.

A single flyer, perhaps the first one, dropped from the sky, shedding speed as it’s leathery wings cupped the air, and landing almost soundlessly on the barracks roof. It strutted carefully towards the nearest trapdoor to the interior of the barracks and gestured silently to its companions. In a moment the Lost Hope would be surrounded and surprised in their rest. These creatures would overwhelm everyone, including poor Icarus. What was a dragonet to do?

With a single leap I landed atop the nearest trapdoor, silent, invisible. Raising my tail overhead I thumped it hard on the wooden door.
”What was tha-“
“Shut up!”
A pause.
“Thought I heard something from over there.”

For a moment I was pleased with myself, then I could hear someone below climbing not under my trapdoor, but the one nearest the bat-thing. I thumped my door harder, again and again. No you idiot! The bat-thing crept closer to the trapdoor, stinger tail raised overhead.

The trapdoor nearest the bat-thing creaked up, pushed upward by the end of Imaris the wizard’s staff. With a cry of surprise, and a shout in arcane words that refused to stay in my memory, a gout of flame struck the creature. Hopping and in flames it was in no situation to defend itself as first Imaris, then Jess and then Xandra boiled out the door onto the roof. In a flurry of strikes the creature died, still smoking.
“’Ware bats!” Jess cried, pointing to the sky.
“Werebats?” Xandra spun with both scimitars ready. “How can that be worse than a regular giant bat?”

The two remaining bat-goblins swooped down, lashing their razor-tipped tails as they went before swerving to ready for a second pass. Now Icarus and Demona had climbed onto the flat roof of the barracks as well, taking in the scene. They were so busy watching the skies they failed to see the loping hobgoblins that’d sprinted near the barracks on foot.

They were scaled, like lizards, and their faces pulled into elongated snouts. Their legs were powerful and arms atrophied to mere sticks. With a strange rocking motion they opened their jaws and spat mouthfuls of some reeking saliva at the Lost Hope, clustered on the edge of the roof. One struck Imaris and his fine eladrin robes began to splutter and hiss. Jess turned just in time for a second wad of acidic goo to strike her neck and chest and she cried out as it burned into her skin.
“Watch out, it burns!” Demona cautioned, orange eyes wide with shock.
Xandra, whirring a sling stone above her head, rolled her eyes.

My poor Icarus was eying the newcomers and with a sigh he lumbered to the edge of the roof and jumped, muttering, “Gee, stay up here and get whipped and shot at or get within cutting range, not much of a choice.”
“Wow, go Icarus,” Xandra said, watching him tumble to the ground below.
“That’s the bravest thing he’s ever done,” Demona gawked.

A moment later and I was throwing myself over the edge of the roof as well. As the batgoblins flew back and forth, slashing as they went, Imaris and Demona sent bolts of arcane energy and fire all around them; and just to make the chances of being taken out by a stray shot even better, Jess was flinging those deadly-sharp little metal stars everywhere. Just as I made good my escape I saw Demona level one blast, curse it as she missed and hurl a second bolt with her left hand that also narrowly missed the grinning batgoblin as it swerved through the air.

Icarus was at blows among the spitting hobgoblins and as the three bunched up to attack him he grinned and unhinged his jaw to unleash a cloud of lightning bolts that left one of the spitters crisped and twitching on the ground. But even as Jess jumped from the roof, tucked into a ball, and landed on both feet, the spitters converged on Icarus and rained burning acid over him. With a last axe-blow Icarus began to retreat, weaving his weapon in a defensive wall and visibly shaking off the effects of the terrible wounds.
“Great move Icarus, dare them all to fight you at once. What was I thinking?” he snarled.

The rooftop battle against the bat-things was not going smoothly. I could hear blasts of fire and diabolic energy were punctuated by the veep sound of sling stones.
“Got it! Wait, no. Missed.”
“Hey watch where you’re pointing that wand!”
“Dammit, dammit, dammit!”

As Icarus retreated to put the barracks between himself and more caustic spittle Jess advanced with deadly intent and, her fine elphin features drawn into a snarl of hate, hurled a throwing star that lodged behind the ear of one spitter dropping it dead to the ground.

There was an explosion, muffled by the walls of the building and a victory ululation from Demona.
“Sod this for a game of mumblestones!” the last spitter whimpered and made to run as all it’s comrades were so much hamburger helper. It didn’t get far before Xandra and Imaris brought the thing down with well-placed shots.

Jess was already slitting throats to make sure none of the bodies would be getting back up again and Icarus lumbered around the barracks, his armor still smoking slightly as acid dripped to the overgrown cobbles of the courtyard.
“D’you see me jump right in the middle of those things?” he said proudly.
“Yeah, you the dragon,” Jess didn’t look up from her job.