Sons of Ironstorm - Book 4: Griffon's Stand

Barricade

Fighting back the snarl of frustration that made his whiskers shiver in his wrinkled muzzle, Mram'met struck the strange wall of solid air that now blocked the passageway ahead of the column with a massive, clenched fist. And watched it shudder with the impact like it was some sort of gel, yet give no further.

"He just vanished.," Will husked, his eyes distant in his stunned and shocked face as he slumped against a nearby wall. "One moment he was stepping carefully forward ahead of me. And the next, he was gone, snatched away by some hidden magic."

Laying a gauntleted hand of comfort on the young human lord's shoulder, Qo'sa bent close.

"Fear not, young sir," the picean pathfinder quietly reassured. "I very much keee-reek doubt there's a force that could damage our good brrrr-nikk Lord Wielder without him doing something about it." He made a gesture towards the wall of solidified air with the Spear of Jun'tek.

"We'll bring down yon wall and ekk-ekk-ekk find the Lord Wielder happy and hale and asking us what took us so long."

"So let us bring this thrice damned wall down then and find out," Stylles grated, taking a two-handed grip on his massive northern broadsword. Taking a couple running steps towards the wall, he swung the great weapon with all his strength at the strange wall. And he was nearly jolted out of his boots when the blade impacted the wall and came to a dead halt, sending the force of the blow shivering back up into the big general's arms and shoulders.

"It shivers when Mram'met punches it, but turns to stone when you take a hack at it, general,"  Duncan mused out loud to the stunned Stylles, the big man wearing a pained grimace as his free hand tried to rub normal feeling back into his opposite shoulder. The Tobald Airna captain then let his claighmore drop after changing his mind about following Stylles' lead in attempting to breach the wall with his blade.

"It seems to react in response to the amount of force you use against it."

"Or perhaps the type of attack, or even the weapon," Stylles added, grimacing as he re-sheathed his sword to rub at his off side shoulder.

"A blade of mere steel," Qo'sa pointed out as he straightened up from where Will leaned against the wall. "It possesses no magic to penetrate what is obviously a kee-reek magical wall."

"Do you think my dark elf broadsword would be more effective?" the young lord of Tal Janux quietly asked, looking up at the picean Scion.

Qo'sa immediately shook his head to the negative.

"Finely crafted the dark elf weapon may be, but still brrrr-neek crafted by mortal hands, it is," the pathfinder pointed out.

"Perhaps a weapon of the Scions then," Mram'met rumbled from where he stood next to the translucent barrier. He hefted the Axe of Korro'seth and took a two handed grip on the leather and wire-wrapped haft. Then, before an alarmed Dani'isis could protest from where she stood a couple paces away, he snapped the First Alliance weapon through a tight arc to bury one of the half moon blades deep into the solidified air wall.

The big muraan couldn't help the ear twitch of satisfaction at that.

"Finally," he rumbled, glancing back at Dani'isis then over at his companions.

"Progress!"

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