(WotH) The Duel

    “And that’s why we had to ward the meeting hall against non-circle-based teleportation,” Mara concluded, leaning back in her high-backed, velvet chair and taking a sip from her goblet of blood.

    On the other side of the parlor’s chiseled, mahogany table, two teenagers sat on a plush couch next to a roaring fireplace. On the left was Charlie, the younger and shorter of the two. He wore a finely embroidered overcoat with a variety of tools poking out from numerous pockets. He brushed his messy, black hair out of his face as he tinkered with a clockwork contraption in his lap.

    Next to Charlie sat his older sister, Isabelle. Her hair was the same color as his and was pulled back into a neat ponytail. She was garbed in an elegant, but practical, black dress with rich purple trim and a hood. Around her neck hung a silver necklace, which sported a small, intricately cut amethyst. She scratched a purring tuxedo cat on the chin, her other hand clutching a half-finished drawing of the feline.

    “Tell us another story!” Charlie enthusiastically requested.

    Mara opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by the door opening. A skeleton clad in polished armor strode into the room and carefully placed an ornate tea set on the table. After doing so, he swiftly turned on his heel and marched out of the room.

    “Did your father ever tell you where he got that necklace?” the countess asked.

    “No. He gave it to me as a gift at the start of my first semester of school, but he never really told me about it,” Isabelle explained, cooling her tea with a magic word before taking a sip.

    “It’s a long story, but an interesting one. Would you like to hear it?”

    “Yes!” the children agreed in unison.

    “As I’m sure your father has taught you, Uncle Tallstag was forced to take the latter half of the Argo-Undead war into his own hands after General Kulenov’s defeat in the Valley of Skulls. As a result of Tallstag’s swift and masterfully executed campaign, King Argos the Third was pushed all the way back to Argopolis, where the war’s final battle would take place,” the vampire began.

    King Argos the Third stood atop the battlements, flanked by his two sons of the same name, and by his most trusted subordinate, Lieutenant Helios. He could see several columns of black smoke billowing into the twilight sky and wafting overhead. The king watched grimly on as a sea of armed and armored undead marched forth. “Orders, sir?” Helios prompted as the unliving tide approached.

    The king remained silent as the army stopped a short distance from the city walls. Innumerable zombies and skeletons made up the bulk of the sea. Most were armed with swords, spears, and axes, but a few contingents of skeletons wielded muskets. Near the center of the formation were large clusters of figures clad in dark hoods and robes. In the distance, the hulking skeletons of giants lumbered forward, carrying with them catapults, cannons, and ballistae. Several bats flitted about overhead, observing the proceedings.

    “Why have they stopped?” Argos the Youngest nervously asked.

    “I … don’t know,” Argos the Elder replied.

    “Perhaps … they want peace?” Argos the Younger hoped aloud.

    “What’s with those names? Argonians must not be very creative,” Charlie interjected.

    “Mortals tend to place more stock in lineage than worth, as if your parentage determines your merit. None of us attained our seats on the Undying Council through nepotism.”

    There was a great ripple through the mass of undead as the soldiers stepped aside to form an unobstructed pathway through their midst. For several dreadful moments, all was silent and still. Then came the sound of heavy, armored footsteps. Striding through the formation was a towering, broad-shouldered figure covered head to toe in a suit of black armor. A dark gray cape made from wolf fur was draped over his shoulders, and two orbs of baleful, green light shone from within his visor.

    The threatening hiss of metal on metal rang out as Lord Tallstag drew his dark blade from its scabbard. He thrust the sword into the air, its tip pointing directly at the king. “Your self-righteous crusade against Ravius has gone on long enough!” His voice was deep and hollow, and the words rolled off his tongue with a thick, Ursinian trill. “This pointless, unfounded war ends today! I have come to give you your last and final chance for salvation. Send out your strongest warrior to face me in single combat. If he wins, then my army shall leave Argen, and if I win, you shall sign our peace treaty. If you refuse or attempt to cheat, I will raze this city to the ground and send every one of you to meet the Lord of Bones!”

    “I will go,” Helios solemnly volunteered, turning to leave.

    “No,” the king ordered. “You cannot face that thing. I am the only one who stands a chance. This shall be my fight.”

    Tallstag waited motionlessly as the tremendous gates opened just a crack, and the king and princes strode out to meet him. “So, the warmonger has the courage to fight his own battles,” the death knight boomed.

    “Warmonger? Bold words from the man commanding a horde of the ravenous dead on a campaign of destruction.”

    Tallstag let out a deep, hollow laugh. “It was you who started this war. We made no move to endanger your kingdom, yet you marched upon our borders under pretext of a ‘holy’ war. Do you truly believe that the goddess of life smiles upon this conflict? Every drop of blood spilled by my army is on your hands. If you genuinely believe your rhetoric, then take that spear of yours and face me. We shall see which god you meet.”

    Argos drew Stormspite, his family’s ancestral spear, from his back and raised his shield. “I will not fall for your lies, fiend!” He thrust his weapon forth, its jagged tip glowing a bright cyan as it unleashed a bolt of lightning. The death knight’s sword flashed through the air with deceptive speed, connecting with the bolt in an arc of green energy. Tallstag leapt forward, cape billowing. He slammed his armored boot against the king’s shield and sent him reeling.

    Argos struck out with his spear again and again. Each jab was struck aside with a contemptuous flick of the undead champion’s blade.

    “Your uncle must not have thought too highly of the king’s prowess. His preferred fighting style has always been dual wielding.”

    Tallstag leapt back, narrowly avoiding a shield bash. He raised his unoccupied hand into the air and uttered a dark incantation. Five translucent, green blades appeared in the air above him, hurtling towards his mortal adversary one by one. Argos hunkered behind his shield, each projectile crashing against it in a burst of energy. The monarch popped his head up above his shield after the last missile struck—just in time to receive a gauntleted uppercut to his jaw.

    Tallstag slammed his boot upon his foe’s shield, wrenching it from his grasp. Argos recovered quickly, leaping to his feet, and striking with Stormspite. The spear’s deadly point stopped inches from the death knight’s chest, caught in his vice-like grip. He prepared to strike a killing blow with his sword but was caught off guard as a beam of electricity struck his chest plate.

    The dark paladin dug in his heels and managed to keep his footing despite being blasted backwards several feet. He threw the cape from his shoulders and drew his flail with his off hand as Argos charged. The weapon was a whirlwind of green flame as Tallstag twirled it overhead. Just as the king reached him, the death knight slammed his flail into the ground, creating a terrific shockwave of hellfire. Argos was hurled against the city wall, and barely had time to recover before the undying general was upon him.

    The grizzled king parried the incoming blow with the shaft of his spear and drove his assailant back with a flurry of jabs. Tallstag spun his flail in a wide arc, wrapping the chain around Stormspite. With a single great heave, Argos was disarmed. He had no time to react before a flaming flail ball struck him in the face, and he crumpled to the ground.

    “Goodbye, and may Seraph be the final judge of your deeds.” Tallstag plunged his blade through the fallen monarch’s stomach. The king opened his mouth to speak but was cut off as the Undying Councilman’s flail struck his skull with a sickening crunch. In moments, King Argos the Third, ruler of Argen, was dead.

    Prince Argos the Fifth screamed with rage and sprinted for his father’s fallen weapon. “No! He’ll kill us all! Their treaty is our only salvation!” his older brother yelled.

    The furious prince stopped short as a bat swooped down and transformed into a regal vampire clad in noble finery. “Now now, I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Mara locked eyes with Argos and flicked the enchanted spear away with her foot. The prince started to lunge forward, but suddenly relaxed as the vampire’s magic took hold.

    “I … will sign your treaty as promised,” Prince Argos the Fourth hesitantly promised, stepping forward. The countess held out one hand, a scroll appearing in a puff of smoke. “Sign here and we can put all of this bloodshed behind us.”

    The prince took the quill he was offered and signed his name, sealing the war’s end. As he did so, a dark-robed old man approached Argos’ the Elder’s corpse. The man held out an amethyst and began to chant. In moments, he had sealed the king’s soul within the gem.

    “After one of our soul mages bound the king’s soul within the gem, we had it placed in storage for future use. When you decided to pursue the same art, your father had it made into a necklace for you,” Mara finished.

    “I always treasured this necklace as a gift from dad, but I never knew how special it really was.” Isabelle gazed at the amethyst with a newfound reverence.

    “Uncle Tallstag is the best!” Charlie shouted. “Why doesn’t he talk about himself more?”

    “He was never one to waste words. If Uncle Tallstag is going to say something, it is going to be something important. He has been like that for as long as I have known him.”

    Isabelle gripped her necklace in one hand, and her now-finished cat portrait in the other. Reciting a short chant, she infused the drawing with a modicum of soul energy. The image disappeared completely from the paper, leaving it blank. A moment later, there was a flash of blue light, and a cat appeared. It was much like the cat already in the room, but its features were less detailed, and its body seemed to be formed from ink.

    Mara smiled approvingly. “I see you’ve been keeping up with your studies.”

    The conversation was interrupted by a knock at the door.

    “Looks like your father is here to pick you up.”

    The door swung open to admit a tall, humanoid construct made from mithril and wearing a belt festooned with alchemical vials. “I am finally back from helping Uncle Velxer finish up his big project!” Wendellor announced through a speaker in the drone’s head. “Sorry my trip took so long.”

    The two children ran over and embraced the construct.

    “Thank you for looking after them while I was away.”

    “It was no problem; I love seeing them both.”

    “Bye, Aunt Mara!” the kids called in unison as they followed their dad out the door.