Obsidian Ridge - Jess Lebow [113]
Realizing her error, the Matron called her men back. "To me, my assassins!" she ordered. "We let the beasts fight the king and his troops, then we move in for the kill."
Casting one final spell, the Matron inscribed a magical circle on the ground-a protective ward that would make it more difficult for the black creatures to reach her and those near her.
"Give them a reason to eat the other soldiers first," she said, smiling at the cunning of her plan. "The path of least resistance leads directly to Korox and his men."
Her assassins fell back to her and the protective circle.
Some were cut down in the process, but it was no matter. The Matron only needed enough to mop up whoever managed to survive the onslaught.
A few more than twenty of her minions made it back to her side. The black beasts lunged at them, their open mouths drooling in anticipation, but they were held back, blocked by the magic powers of the goddess Waukeen.
They jumped and clawed, growled and hissed at the invisible wall, but none of them managed to make it through. Though they were stupid creatures, they eventually tired of trying to get past the Matron's barrier. Then they turned their full attention toward the king and the rest of his men.
"This is it," said the Matron. "Our hour of victory is at hand." She straightened her veil, eager to see King Korox Morkann fall and the throne of Erlkazar become-open for her to plunder.
+++++
On the edge of the battlefield, Quinn stopped to look for something. There was little left here, only dead grass and barren trees, the reminders of the king's disobedience.
The desolation made him smile.
Scanning farther along, past the edge of the square buildings and ruined shrubbery, he found what he wanted.
"That'll do nicely." He walked to the tall statue of a rather regal-looking woman holding a book, seemingly engrossed in its pages.
The plinth that she stood upon was nearly the full height of a man-perfect for him to perch on and watch his black beasts punish the foolish king and his followers. Grabbing hold of the stone edge, he struggled to pull himself up.
With some effort, he managed to get to his feet to stand beside the woman and look out at the battle that raged in the courtyard. As soon as he did, the stone beneath him began to vibrate, almost like the soft undulations of the Obsidian Ridge. The feeling was rather comforting, and it made the victory he was about to witness that much more pleasant.
A wind began to blow, ruffling the dry grass and the robes of the man on the plinth. Mores of white light and tiny glowing orange orbs floated up from him, swirling around each other, once, twice, then shooting out in all different directions.
Quinn's body began to transform. Muscular arms, straight back, and smooth skin withered and bent, becoming a hunched, pock-marked monstrosity. Buboes and pus-filled lumps appeared. His armor and cape morphed into oddly cut wizard's robes.
The magical visage of Quinn fell away, leaving behind only a twisted and decrepit overlord.
When the transformation was complete, the wind died.
"That's very strange," said Xeries, his voice and appearance having returned to their true forms. "I did not release that spell."
He looked up at the carved stone woman standing beside him. She seemed to be looking right back at him, her eyes fixed on a single spot.
A strange chill ran down his spine.
Shaking it off, he let out a timid snicker. "Don't be foolish Xeries," he said to himself. "It's only a statue."
Turning back to the battle at hand, he let out another laugh, this one louder. The arch magus sounded like wind chimes as he reveled in his soon-to-be victory.
+++++
The twin red wyverns on his chest had all but disappeared under a thick coat of blood and gore. King Korox stood beside Lord Purdun. It seemed