Chapter Twenty-Eight, 'Battle for the Monastary; part two'

He looked powerful. They all knew the warlock when they saw him. Dark armor, black cloak, and the knife at his side had a pommel shaped like a skull add those to the aura of darkness already present about him and there was no mistaking him as anything else.

His bodyguards were no less formidable. Plate armor, good plate at that, and heavy iron shields protected them; and they fought with Katars longer than their heads. The tabard, a wolfshead on silver, denoted them as being sent by the Alpha himself. These were soldiers, not just the fighters from local clans trying to overwhelm an embattled foe, but soldiers like themselves. They would be trained, their equipment would be held to a standard of upkeep and quality, and they would be well paid.

Nethen was not religious, few Nielda were, but she remembered some of the deities that were whispered of in the fairy tales from her childhood and muttered a quick prayer. She did not want to die, but she wasn't about to be caught unprepared. The commander alone did not seek solace in such pursuits. She knew that he did have religion, a belief in a higher power. Yet now he seemed undaunted by the threat before them. Maybe there really was some truth to his beliefs.

"Warlock, does your master wish for our lives or our land?"
"Your lives, foolish fireblood, your lives and your souls."
"Then let us do battle. A champion of our people and one of yours, if this shaditha seek a Nieldic soul then they must be willing to show themselves."
"Hardly, I am empowered to do their work."
"Then do it. The lord of the light shall send us a champion."

Kron drew his knife and cut the air between them, a shadowy tear opened before the commander. His ring pulsed with light and the tear was sealed. Haelvan unstrung his bow and returned it to his back.
"Behold warlock; the light has sent a champion. And with her the strength to do battle with the dark forces."

And sure enough, upon the gatehouse tower a flash of lightning showed his words to be true. A woman was there, and behind her was a massive golem; upon the golem was a man with a staff of fire. The winds howled, and the clansmen fled before them. The Alpha's men were crushed beneath the great iron hands of the golem, and their shield were sundered by bolts of fire from the pyromancer.

"Kron! You sought me dead, twice have you tried, must I a third time face your schemes?"
"Shamaness, my master can speak lies only when permitted. Twice have I sought your death, twice I have succeeded, and a third time if I must, for my death shall come not by your lightning."
And the shadow guarded him, his knife was thrust, and bolts of fury lit the sky before the monastery. She was unmatched in battle, but he was preserved against her assault. She could not strike him down, but neither could he make her flee.

And the battle raged, the sun was high as the warriors fled. Nine and three score soldiers fell, but for each of them was ten about who's friends had left them in their haste. Victory was had, but still the warlock fought. Through the streets, and over ramparts they fought. None dared draw near, such was their battle, save one.

Vel, the nymph who had warned them, a sprite of the lake. She approached in fury, hair whipping in the winds she brought with her. Lightning struck forth, and a flood at her feet. Still, did the warlock not falter. He worked about, and positioned his foes, and as the soldiers watched he readied the blow.
"Neither wisp, nor Naiad, not even Nielda shall slay me. The Demon spoke truth, quite often they do. Now suffer my wrath!"

He cast a bolt of shadow at the duo before him. But before it struck, Alicea leapt before it. The blast carried her clean through Vel's watery form. The Sprite cried out in anger.
"I am not a wisp, nor a Naiad. My mother was, and so to my father. Have a taste of their pain."
A bolt of lightning struck from the heavens, and the water around him rose about him to meet it.

"Alicea?"
Haelvan ran to the fallen warrior. As Nond moved to Vel and pulled the weeping sprite aside, and Scorch crouched over Kron's smoking remains. Nethen walked to her commander.
"I..You would have liked her, N-Nethen. She was the sweetest, cleverest little girl there ever was. They never found the body, I'd always hoped to see her again. But not like this, not like this."
"I'm sorry commander sir. I did like her, she was strong, and good sir. Just like her father."

Vel looked up at Nond, "Where do I go now? She was the last person I knew."
Nond chuckled.
"She won't be though, she is only the first."

The golem rose and turned to the grieving father. "Young Haelvan, How may the beast be slain?"