Sons of Ironstorm - Book 4: Griffon's Stand

Mountains and Snow

There came the familiar twist in the senses passage through a long port gave him. Then the young Wielder of the Star was stepping out into a full-scale battle. Disciplined and skilled, the Redeemed Banik had led through were nevertheless outnumbered almost five to one, brutish enhanced tjor'riin in white-painted armor mercilessly battering the vanguard that was bravely attempting to establish a perimeter around the portal large enough to let the rest of the company through.

<<Frost me,>> Shawn growled, eyes wide as he quickly scanned over the chaotic scene. Even as his eyes fell on his old friend, Banik snapped his spear through a tight zig-zag to fend off not just one, but two enhanced tjor'riin wielded reaver blades. The smokey glass swords sent fat blue sparks flying in every direction when they struck the rune spear's heavy blade, so much so that Banik was nearly hidden behind a cascading waterfall of them.

Thankfully the big elf was not without some skill and, twisting his spear and pulling to the side, he neatly disarmed the tjor'riin to his right before turning and avoiding a stab from the one on his left. Spinning tightly, he brought the spear axe-like down on the tjor'riin on the right's shoulder, nearly cutting the enhanced shadow elf in half before reversing his spin to skewer his remaining opponent.

- Patrik, we've got enhanced tjor'riin with reaver blades up here, - Shawn sent back via the Star to his younger brother. - Warn those with you. -

- Already done, brother, - Patrik quickly sent back and, to underscore his words, elven arrows darted through the open gateway, already glowing with magic, somehow avoiding Banik's Redeemed to hammer into several of the big and fast dark soldiers, cutting them down.

Nodding in satisfaction at the quick supporting fire, Shawn swiftly added his own magic to the attack, his powerful spells shattering armored bodies as if they were made of flimsy hoarfrost. Around him, shouting battle cries from their various kingdoms, the Covenant women launched their own attack, spears whistling through the bone-numbing cold air or bowstrings humming as arrows were sent crisply on their way.

Shiana too was swift to add her own strength to those of her brother's, drawing her rune sword and charging into the hardest fighting. A spin around a stabbing tjor'riin bastard sword was quickly followed by a hard cut that truncated the dark soldier's arm before a tight spin in the opposite direction gave her enough momentum to drive her sword nearly to the hilt into the tjor'riin's big, barrel chest. 

Not pausing there, Shiana kicked the dying dark soldier off her blade with enough force to send him flying backward before batting aside a reaver blade aimed at her side. The return swing she transformed into a two-handed cut that removed the dark soldier's head in one smooth stroke, the reaver blade falling from suddenly nerveless fingers to the churned up mud underfoot.

Oddly enough it was the sight of the tjor'riin's head tumbling to the ground that caught Shiana's eye, not the sword forged through necromancy. It was almost as if it were a trigger, blood slowly dripping from the severed neck after it roughly rolled to a halt some paces from her. Because seeing it sent cold adrenaline rushing through her body, the quicksilver sensation slowing the world down to a crawl. 'And now things will really get interesting!' she mused to herself with a fierce grin before taking a fresh grip on the hilt of her rune sword and looking up at the frozen wall of tjor'riin all around her. Then she truly began clearing the dark soldiers away.

Cutting a big dark soldier down with flickering blades of cold fire, Shawn watched yet another reaver blade drop to the ground before the blur out of the corner of his eye announced Shiana whirling back into battle using Wielder speed. He grinned in satisfaction as she tore a massive hole in the tjor'riin lines directly ahead of her before turning to the right to begin rolling the line up like an old piece of parchment. That takes care of their flank.