Today we return to Corey's tale: Axiomatic Anarchy, wherein the fate of the mage Landon Quinntar undecided. Its a battle to true death between the mage and the oozing undead monstrosity. Both are deadly combatants, but only one will leave the arena of Penance Arbiter.
Enjoy the third installment of Axiomatic Anarchy, and remember to come back for more on October 1st!
The monstrosity's accusing hand closed into a fist. The surrounding goo shaped itself into a column of viscid fury and lashed out, slamming the half-conscious mage into the coarse wall thirty feet behind. Blood oozed from Landon's nose as he fought off the numbness that swept forth from contact with the foul sludge. He concentrated on the fibers of theurgy which wove through his soul, stoking the elemental coals to life. "Flir'gish Glar'zul!"
The embers ignited and roared, flame flowed through his veins; the burst of fire entombed his flesh in an eldritch inferno that boiled away the ooze. A keening wail burst from the undead priest, and it quickly thrust the other fist in a whiplash of fluid. The mage barely ducked as the ooze maul crashed against the arena's border. He rushed forward, flinging bolts of ethereal energy in a quick succession. Each struck unerringly and they bored sizzling craters in the putrid fluid.
Unfazed, the monstrosity brought both arms together and caught the sorcerer in a concussion of mire. The blast sent spikes of frigid pain into Landon's disoriented mind. Sanguine blackness washed over his eyes as capillaries in his skull burst. The pain threatened to overtake him, but he retreated within himself to the bright core of his arcane power. Landon raised the flat of his hand and pierced the viscid barrier that pressed against him -- a burst of radiant light shot out. The undead priest shrieked in horror as the concentration of positive energy ripped through it, and it teetered back a few steps in revulsion. Even the crowd, all underdark denizens, screamed in agony at the blinding aura.
The pain ebbed from seared irises, and the audience looked on in amazement to see the mage floating level with the monstrosity undead torso. A sphere of emerald luminescence enveloped Landon's frame. "Why do you persist? Didn't I prove my innocence when we last fought, fiend?" The mage brought his hand up, and the priest flinched. "And my superiority."
Memory trickled through the amnesia. Landon remembered his adventure through the deep stretches of Tal Vorglath, when he entered the sacred halls of the lost High Clerics.
He walked through the alabaster necropolises of the ancient priests in his mind. The frescoes of an interior alcove had revealed a terrible bane that intrigued and horrified the erudite sorcerer more than any demon craft he had ever witnessed. The presence of the vile undead before him had forced him to end his research prematurely, and the two had fought stalwartly. Quickly their battle took its tole on the ancient architecture -- minor tremors started and Landon decided to retreat. He had no time to retrieve his gear as fled into the tunnels, and the priest followed swiftly.
The winding passages led the two into the domain of Penance Arbiter. The diabolical construct managed to ensnare the two and a trap, and then, calling on his innate powers, Penance geased both into fighting in the arena. It knew the turn-out to see a surface dweller and an undead cleric would churn out exponential profits.
The monstrosity gurgled and Landon snapped out of his reverie. "Thou wast groveling at this metal creature's feet last we faced, mortal!" The priest's decayed jaws fell into a wide leer as he laughed, an effect that almost looked like gagging in the gelatinous ooze. Its fingers slid through angular formations, and the acolyte of unlife quickly mouthed a verse of infernal: "Dilathri killorin asricx!"
The blood chilled in every being who sucked air. Landon had little time to ponder the bubbled words: Decease thy breathing, beast! His eyes bulged as a vacuum swirled around his skull, his breath disappeared from his lungs. Blackness threatened once more as he strove against blood loss, numbness and deprivation of breath. With his mind locked on warding against this new assault, Landon could not stave off the fury of blows that ensued.
Grimy fists blasted into the human's sides. The assault destroyed his concentration, and he began gulping at the void that swirled around his head while clutching at his battered insides. Landon barely noticed that he was again thrown against the wall, his emerald cocoon shattered moments before by the ferocity of the attack. As he collapsed into the velvet embrace of a coma, Landon felt a most welcomed sensation: cool wind caressed his cheek and surged into his lungs.
