Rise of the Blade - Charles Moffat [95]
Bending the magical strands to his will, Chev surged skyward and was a shining white beacon flying over Waterdeep at such a speed that he was easily mistaken for a falling star. The wise ones knew better however, knowing that falling stars go down, not up.
The wind slid over Chev's naked form and he felt exhilerated as the magical energy he encountered was abosrbed into his skin. He could never have imagined that there was so much magical energy just floating around and waiting to be used. To his eyes, it seemed like he was swimming rather than flying.
His mind racing as only his could, the warrior swerved downward and scanned the lantern lit city for the elven twisting tower. Closing and reopening his eyes, he focused his thoughts on the buckler. Down below, he sensed the buckler. It wasn't sentient like the blade was, but he could feel its magical strength fighting against the rusting effects of the water around it.
Like a diving owl, the glowing man plummeted downward and crashed through the ceiling of the elven tower, through the elven chamber and straight down the fountain to the water below. Reaching out a hand, the water surged around the warrior and formed into a whirlpool with the waterdrain at the centre.
There, jammed into the waterdrain's bars, the buckler lay. Chev slid down the water like it was sand and scooped up the buckler and blew the water off it. A moment later the buckler attached itself to his arm and he flew upward once more, already wondering what to do next.
Cause a commotion would be a start. The warrior rose more slowly this time his light shining like a lighthouse as he rose up past the thundering water and entered the elven tower. His face was benevolent as he gazed at the elven guards who stood bravely in front of the guests. The fat mage, the Harper, responded with a bolt of crackling magical energy that hit Chev's buckler and was absorbed through the warrior's glowing flesh.
The ex-bodyguard only smiled at the mage. "I call upon any clerics and mages to contact Korehren and tell him that Chev desires his prescence."
A cleric of Corellon, the patron god of all elves stepped forward. "Why do you seek to contact a dark god, unknown spirit?"
"To destroy him. You will soon witness a god-duel."
"Why don't you call him yourself?" demanded Petre. "Are you really a god or is that simply an illusion?"
Chev glared at the fat elf but still he smiled. "I am no god and my abilities are not honed as well as yours but I can assure you that my power exceeds yours by far."
Petre was skeptical and started to nod at the cleric when a simply clad elf stepped forward within two feet of Chev. His clothes were made of the finest deer leather and otherwise unremarkable. His face however was that of utter perfection and beauty. The golden hair flowed from his bronze-tanned skin and he stared at Chev with clear blue eyes.
The warrior took a quick step backwards. The sheer amount of magical energy surrounding the elf was almost blinding. Huge magical strands thicker than Chev's arm flowed through the elf as a constant source of incredible energy.
"Chev, combat is forbidden amongst us gods."
"I'm not a god," Chev responded, summoning all of his energy together. His light stopped glowing and the strands surrounding him started to grow in thickness. He still shone a little, but the majority of the magical might was no longer leaking out.
"Perhaps, but you have the power to rival one. Albeit a small one such as Korehren. The sheer distruction however is something I will not allow."
"So says you," snorted a booming voice. "I wouldn't miss this fight for all of Ao's power."
The two beings turned to face Tempus, the God of War. He was dressed in a flagrantly intricate and shining armour and carried a great warhammer the size of a sledge. His face was stern and filled with a myriad of scars. Like Corellon, thick strands of magical energy swirled around the Lord of Battles and down his huge weapon which was composed of pure energy rather than