quick succession of alternating slashes. Khalid parried his attacks with both blades, impressed with the man's speed. The high priest backed away, giving the swordsman room to unleash a furious attack. As the enemy charged forward to strike, Khalid spun to the side, slashing his swords at the attacker's waist. He connected with both scimitars, laying the man's abdomen open. He grinned as he moved on to the next hapless enemy.
The six priests alternated their attacks, passing their enemies to each other as their own circle spun. The confused Jindala were unable to counter, as their attacker was immediately replaced by the priest next to him. Khalid watched them as he fought his own opponents, impressed with their coordinated efforts. It was quite obvious they had fought this way before.
Townspeople had begun to gather as the battle ensued. They cheered the allies on, some of them attacking the Jindala who came too close, others pulling the thieves who had been injured out of harm's way.
Khalid held up his weapons, shouting at the top of his lungs, "Your freedom has come! Cast off your veils, and take your city back!"
The crowd cheered again, some of them rushing away to scour the city for any remaining guards. Women took off their veils, children shouted and threw stones at the Jindala, and some of the younger men joined the fight.
"Faillaigh belongs to The Dragon!" Khalid shouted again, encouraging them to cheer louder.
The Jindala began to shrink in number. The priests, along with the thieves, had slain most of them, and those that remained were fearful, having lost their morale when townspeople had begun their rebellion.
"Tear down their monuments!" Khalid yelled again. "The Lifegiver is not welcome here! Burn their temples! Burn their books!"
Just then, a wave of silence came over the Jindala, and the crowd became still. The allies, confused, stared in disbelief as the enemy began to flee. The townspeople backed away, fearful of what was coming. Khalid watched them flee, as well, as the thundering of hooves echoed through the alleys.
"What is happening?" Khalid shouted.
Enkhatar, The Dragon's voice said.
Khalid, knowing full well the horror that The Dragon had spoken of, stood fast. He beckoned his priests to stay behind him, and to keep the thieves from charging. He waited as the sound of hooves became louder, growing to a deafening crescendo. Then, out of the shadows, the steed appeared.
The mount was half again as large as a work horse. Its coat was jet black and gleamed like obsidian, and its eyes shone red with the fury of the undead. It snorted loudly, sending puffs of putrid gas into the air, and its hooves burned the ground where it stomped.
Atop the nightmarish steed, the Enkhatar sat. An aura of darkness surrounded it, lashing out as if it were alive. The creature's armor was black as night, and covered with spikes and blades of unearthly material. The huge warrior's face was covered in a cruel mask of black iron that seemed bolted directly onto its rotting flesh. Its great helm was adorned with long, spiraling horns that jutted far above its twisted crown.
"My brothers," Khalid whispered. "Do not fear this entity. It is merely a puppet of The Lifegiver. You wield the power of the Firstborn."
He closed his eyes as the Enkhatar reared its horse back. He called on The Dragon, praying for strength and courage to impart to his priests. He felt his scimitars begin to vibrate, as if the power of The Dragon was waiting to be unleashed. Quickly, he glanced at his priests, who were also gripping their weapons with renewed confidence.
"We are with you, brother," Dael spoke. Then, he charged.
Khalid charged as well, urging the others to follow. The Enkhatar let loose a horrifying screech that shook the buildings around it. It raised its gigantic axe and charged to meet them.
The priests parted as the Enkhatar rode through. They each struck at the creature's mount, Khalid dodging the swing of the huge axe.
The six priests alternated their attacks, passing their enemies to each other as their own circle spun. The confused Jindala were unable to counter, as their attacker was immediately replaced by the priest next to him. Khalid watched them as he fought his own opponents, impressed with their coordinated efforts. It was quite obvious they had fought this way before.
Townspeople had begun to gather as the battle ensued. They cheered the allies on, some of them attacking the Jindala who came too close, others pulling the thieves who had been injured out of harm's way.
Khalid held up his weapons, shouting at the top of his lungs, "Your freedom has come! Cast off your veils, and take your city back!"
The crowd cheered again, some of them rushing away to scour the city for any remaining guards. Women took off their veils, children shouted and threw stones at the Jindala, and some of the younger men joined the fight.
"Faillaigh belongs to The Dragon!" Khalid shouted again, encouraging them to cheer louder.
The Jindala began to shrink in number. The priests, along with the thieves, had slain most of them, and those that remained were fearful, having lost their morale when townspeople had begun their rebellion.
"Tear down their monuments!" Khalid yelled again. "The Lifegiver is not welcome here! Burn their temples! Burn their books!"
Just then, a wave of silence came over the Jindala, and the crowd became still. The allies, confused, stared in disbelief as the enemy began to flee. The townspeople backed away, fearful of what was coming. Khalid watched them flee, as well, as the thundering of hooves echoed through the alleys.
"What is happening?" Khalid shouted.
Enkhatar, The Dragon's voice said.
Khalid, knowing full well the horror that The Dragon had spoken of, stood fast. He beckoned his priests to stay behind him, and to keep the thieves from charging. He waited as the sound of hooves became louder, growing to a deafening crescendo. Then, out of the shadows, the steed appeared.
The mount was half again as large as a work horse. Its coat was jet black and gleamed like obsidian, and its eyes shone red with the fury of the undead. It snorted loudly, sending puffs of putrid gas into the air, and its hooves burned the ground where it stomped.
Atop the nightmarish steed, the Enkhatar sat. An aura of darkness surrounded it, lashing out as if it were alive. The creature's armor was black as night, and covered with spikes and blades of unearthly material. The huge warrior's face was covered in a cruel mask of black iron that seemed bolted directly onto its rotting flesh. Its great helm was adorned with long, spiraling horns that jutted far above its twisted crown.
"My brothers," Khalid whispered. "Do not fear this entity. It is merely a puppet of The Lifegiver. You wield the power of the Firstborn."
He closed his eyes as the Enkhatar reared its horse back. He called on The Dragon, praying for strength and courage to impart to his priests. He felt his scimitars begin to vibrate, as if the power of The Dragon was waiting to be unleashed. Quickly, he glanced at his priests, who were also gripping their weapons with renewed confidence.
"We are with you, brother," Dael spoke. Then, he charged.
Khalid charged as well, urging the others to follow. The Enkhatar let loose a horrifying screech that shook the buildings around it. It raised its gigantic axe and charged to meet them.
The priests parted as the Enkhatar rode through. They each struck at the creature's mount, Khalid dodging the swing of the huge axe.
Similar Books
