Rise of the Blade - Charles Moffat [85]
Swords met and were brushed aside with deft blades. The two warriors circled on the steps one more. They turned in a deadly spiral, heading down to first floor.
The noise of their battle resounded throughout the empty south wing. It was a symphony of clashes, reverberations and solid clangs as Pierce let Chev's blades through his defenses to hit harmlessly against his breastplate.
Every offensive swing was both cunning and deadly and every defensive parry was both swift and intricate. It was an one way battle however for it was Chev's swings and Pierce's parries that forced both men down the staircase as Pierce retreated to favourable ground where he could fight back without Chev having the upper hand.
"Flawless," Chev commented. He stepped off the last step and onto the marble tiled floor. "I would like to have seen you in your prime."
Pierce was tempted to ignore the verbal jousting but decided not to on a whim. "I was a foolish young man who got in more trouble than I could usually handle."
"You handled it well enough it would seem."
"Draque cheated. The grey hairs on my head are from spells that enhanced my talents temporarily but resulted in aging me. It was better than being Tarrasque food."
"So I've heard. Quite a historic rumour with no body to show as evidence. I would like to know where the body went. Were you to die, then the secret would die with you, and if I fail, then I die without knowing."
"You really want to know?"
"Yes."
"Then I'll make you a deal. We take a break to catch our breath and I shall tell you. Do you accept?"
"A reasonable offer," Chev shrugged. "I give you my word that I shall not attack until the end." He immediately backed off and lowered his swords. "After all, you'd know if I was going to attack anyway right?"
Pierce nodded and lowered his sabers and backed off. He took a deep breath and adjusted his armour so it was more comfortable. "I cut its head off with Tarrasqueslayer. That only disabled it however, for it was quick to regenerate. The Fifth Cavalry-"
"The same elven cavalry that shot at me recently?"
"One and the same. They kept the Tarrasque from regenerating by beating it into a pulp while Draque and I tried to find a way to stop it. In the end, we used a minor wish spell to stick all of the Tarrasque into a magically bag of Draque's. Then we destroyed the bag using Witter's sword Planereacher."
"Would that really destroy it? From what I know of magic, it should have ended up going through a rift into another plane."
"It probably did. Whatever the case, it is now banished from Toril. I can only hope it ended up in the elemental plane of fire. The end." Pierce's sabers flashed upwards at ready.
Chev waited a moment. He was tempted to simply quit. Lie down and die. No, he said mentally. Not yet.
Pierce used this momentary lapse in Chev's defenses to charge forward, push aside Chev's blades with his own and kick upwards with his adamantite toed boot. There was an audible "Oompf!" as Chev reeled backwards from pain. Pierce followed quickly behind, sabers leading the way.
The bodyguard blocked them despite his agony, keeping his wits about him. He straightened deliberately, fighting to maintain in control.
Pierce couldn't help but admire Chev's will power as he closed in. This would not be the end, he knew that much, but it was definitely a step towards Chev's defeat. Both sabers dove in, twisting towards the warrior's vital parts, but were knocked swiftly away despite Pierce's efforts.
"That was mean," Chev responded. "Although no less than I probably deserve right?"
"I'm not the judge of that," Pierce muttered grimly as he backed off at last and studied Chev's wounds. "I can't help but wonder how much