Essence of Gluic
Beyond the bridge and guard tower stood a cloaked man hunched over as he rested his weight on a wooden staff, while his left hand held his cloak tight in front of him, keeping his identity concealed. He stood alone on the far side of the bridge, as though he had been waiting for hours for them to arrive.
A fully armored Blothrud stood high on the second guard tower, watching the travelers cross the bridge. His muscles strained against the confines of the restrictive metal, leather uniform, and headgear. He was even more massive than the Blothrud they had met at the first tower.
Standing on the end of the bridge were two Krupes; one keeping a trained eye on the travelers and the other staring at the cloaked man beyond the bridge. Weapons in hand, they gave the impression that there would be trouble.
Cautiously, Thorik led his team toward the end of the bridge as one of the Krupes kept his focus on them. The Blothrud focused on the strangers as he modified his grip on the long thin spear before him.
It was odd to Thorik that the man concealed his identity. If it was Ambrosius, why did he not just step forward and hold the Del’Unday at bay with his powers? Or had he lost some of his abilities in his fight for survival from being crushed in the Weirfortus dam?
If it was Darkmere, why again the façade? The Del’Unday from Corrock were at his disposal. Why not just allow the guards to capture the travelers and then step out of the tower for his final attack?
Thorik’s lips tightened as variations of these thoughts raced through his head. Why the charade?
Avanda walked alongside of Thorik and noticed his pacing had changed as his body became tense. “What’s the matter?”
“I don’t know. I just feel like we’re walking into a trap.”
The feeling was beginning to spread to the rest of the group. Something definitely felt amiss. Bryus was the only one not paying attention as his focus was on repairing his wooden arm.
Stopping several yards short of the guard tower, Thorik scanned his environment one last time. From what he could feel, all eyes were on him to make the next move. Although he had never seen the actual eyes of a Krupe and the helmet on the Blothrud made it difficult to see its face, Thorik could sense their stare.
Avanda grabbed Thorik’s hand and squeezed it tight.
He squeezed back to assure her that all would work out. But he had misunderstood her hand gesture.
Releasing and squeezing his grip several times, Avanda was alerting Thorik to a new threat, one they hadn’t noticed yet. A subtle red flame appeared behind the cloaked man, up in the bluffs.
The tension in the air was thick as everyone waited for Thorik’s next move.
Following Avanda’s line of sight, Thorik instantly realized the pulsing light in the bluff was the lesser demon, Grub. He was here to attack Ambrosius. Thorik had played into Bakalor and Irluk’s trap and had lured the E’rudite out from hiding and into danger.
Her voice stayed calm and soft. “He’s here to attack Ambrosius.”
Bryus finally looked away from his arm and noticed the man in the distance. “Ambrosius? Is that you?” he yelled.
Grub’s light immediately vanished. The Krupes quickly turned toward the cloaked man as the Blothrud above them left his post and ran down the tower steps to join them.
The cloaked man removed his hood to show his face. And there stood the man Thorik had thought he had sent to his death so very long ago. His mahogany hair and beard covered his tanned face as he displayed his blue robes by tossing off the old cloak. Standing up straight, it was obvious that his arm and legs had been repaired since his battle with Darkmere.
Knowing that Grub would be attacking, Thorik raced forward to warn his old friend. “Watch out! It’s a trap!” he screamed as he sped past the unexpected Krupe guards.
His warning was just in time. Ambrosius leaped forward as the ground opened up and Grub shot out to hit him.
Thorik charged ahead, with the Krupes on his heels. “Ambrosius! We’re under attack! You’ve been set up.”
Avanda ran behind the Krupes as Brimmelle stood his ground on the bridge. “Avanda, get back here! You’ll be killed!” he yelled. “Ambrosius can take care of himself.”
Grewen made his way off the bridge to help, but was slammed along the side by the Blothrud who was racing out of the tower to enter the battle. The impact knocked the Mognin over as his bulky body hit hard onto the ground, stirring up a cloud of dust. The Blothrud dropped his spear, fell to one knee, shook off the unexpected collision, and then bolted toward Ambrosius.
Bryus stood near Brimmelle as he pulled out several items from his pack and began casting a spell from the safe distance of the bridge. Brimmelle had seen enough spells go wrong that he instinctively moved back away from the Alchemist.
Meanwhile, Ambrosius and Grub were in a heated battle. The E’rudite held off the heat of the creature as it relentlessly attacked him. At one point, he literally caught the crusted over glob of magma in his hands to prevent it from slamming into his face. He then used his powers to throw the creature high into the air over the bluffs.
Keeping his distance in front of the Krupes, Thorik arrived to see Ambrosius’ hands still smoking from his touch of the lesser demon. “Ambrosius!” the Num yelled as he tossed his body into his old friend for a strong hug. “I’m so glad you’re alive. The Death Witch said-”
“Irluk? What does she have to do with this?” Ambrosius asked as he pulled Thorik back to look him in the eyes.
But there was no time to answer. Two Krupes were arriving fast.
Reaching out with his right hand, Ambrosius used his powers to cause the ground, at the two guards’ feet, to crumble away. With no time to react, one immediately fell and broke his neck on the far side. The other had enough momentum to launch himself over the hole, only to miss his footing and fall backwards into the deep pit. Krupes were sturdy front line attackers, but had little talent for jumping and climbing.
Avanda arrived and made the leap over the crack in the ground with ease. “Ambrosius!” She quickly jumped into his arms.
Again, there was no time for a reunion. The Blothrud had been on Avanda’s heels and jumped over the hole without missing a stride. He was in a full attack run toward Ambrosius and had unsheathed his bastard sword for the pending brutal battle.
Raising his staff in his right hand, Ambrosius froze the air around the Blothrud, causing the beast’s lungs to restrict airflow. The Blothrud grabbed his chest and tumbled to his side near the E’rudite’s feet, stirring up dust from his crash.
“Thorik, tell me about Irluk,” Ambrosius asked quickly, knowing the Blothrud would soon be back on his feet. “What does she have to do with this?”
“It’s too late.” Avanda watched a black mass of floating debris in the sky approach. Irluk was arriving to take Ambrosius once and for all.
“NO!” shouted Ambrosius. “What have you done?” he asked, looking directly at Thorik.
“I didn’t know if you had the other prattle box.”
Crashing out of the earth behind them, Grub flew into Ambrosius’ back, knocking him forward toward the pit where the Krupes had fallen.
Spinning around and using his powers, he held the magma creature at bay, while screaming in pain from the fresh burns on his back.
Free of the E’rudite’s powers, the Blothrud rolled to his feet to return to his attack on Ambrosius.
Thorik grabbed the Spear of Rummon from his back and blocked the blothrud’s path. “Get back!”
In one quick slap, the Blothrud knocked the spear out of Thorik’s hands and sent the weapon flying. He then quickly pushed the Num aside to make his attack on the E’rudite. Stepping forward he thrust his sword into Ambrosius’ arm.
The Death Witch slowly closed in on the battle, waiting for her revenge. “Grub, I want him alive. In pain, but alive. I will deal the final blow in front of Bakalor himself.” Her airy voice sounded distant but clear.
Grub opened his mouth, displaying the fiery furnace within. The heat would have
instantly killed any mortal, but this was an E’rudite. The lesser-demon had hoped it would at least cause him to pass out from the pain.
Removing the thick blade from Ambrosius’ arm, the Blothrud kept as much distance from Grub as he could as he drove the metal tip of the weapon into the E’rudite’s side.
Thorik returned to the battle with the Spear of Rummon in hand as he leaped into the pit and jammed the weapon into the back of the Blothrud. “Leave him alone!”
The Del’Unday guard screamed in pain as he arched his back. The spear hadn’t gone deep, but the essence of the dragon within it fought for his Num master and inflicted great pain to his victims. A mighty roar emanated from the spear and the Blothrud fell.
Thorik then turned the enchanted weapon to Grub. Wondering how it would affect a lesser demon, he had no other option but to plunge it into the creature if he had any hope of saving Ambrosius.
This time there was no roar when Thorik stabbed Rummon into Grub. Instead, the spear began to shake uncontrollably, and Thorik was unable to hang on to the weapon as it violently thrashed about. Grub also began to vibrate and swirl recklessly. Heat blasted in every direction. The spear slapped against the ground and through the air as the two continued their fierce attack with one another.
Ambrosius was unconscious from the attack as Thorik leaped on top of him in order to protect him from any more harm as Grub and Rummon fought to the death. “I’m sorry I pulled you into this.” Thorik looked the man over.
The E’rudite’s skin was swollen and blistered from Grub’s attack. His right hand still firmly clinched the wooden staff, which Thorik had made for him so long ago. He noticed the Runestone of Health was proudly carved near the top of the now blackened burnt wood. Thorik recalled the day near Kingsfoot when Emilen and he had originally etched Runestones into his staff.
The memory caused Thorik to jump up to his feet and race off to the Blothrud, where he stole the guard’s wide bastard sword.
The Death Witch quickly approached as she floated just feet from the ground.
With the guard’s sword in hand, Thorik stepped back to the E’rudite and raised it over his head, positioned to plunge the blade straight down into the E’rudite’s chest. “You want him dead, then you shall have him!” he yelled at Irluk. “But I will not allow you the satisfaction of bringing him to Della Estovia alive to be tortured.”
Thorik drove the sword straight down into the unconscious man’s chest, causing the E’rudite’s body to jolt from the pain.
Both Avanda and Irluk screamed, “NO!” as they rushed forward to stop the attack on Ambrosius. But they were unable to prevent it in time, as the sharp tip penetrated his chest and wedged itself deep inside of him.
Avanda pushed Thorik out of the way and uprooted the sword before being shoved to the side by Irluk. She could see that the E’rudite was still alive but fading fast.
“Thorik, what have you done?” Avanda turned to fight off the Death Witch.
Thorik grabbed her from behind and pulled her away. “I did what I had to do.”
Without warning, an explosion rocked the ground and stopped all conversations as pieces of pumice rained down on them. The sound of the Spear of Rummon dropping to the ground followed. Grub had been defeated.
The swirling charcoal debris, which made up Irluk’s body, intensified at the scene. With a quick unsettling gaze at Thorik, she increased the speed of the debris which made up her body and robes. Accelerating, the debris spread out and began collecting the steaming rock fragments of Grub.
Once all of the lesser demon’s parts had joined her chaotic mix of spinning fragments, Irluk lowered herself onto the E’rudite before lifting him up into the air and away from bridge, back toward Della Estovia. Her mission was finally complete, in spite of the fact that Thorik tried to take the honor of the last blow from her.
Avanda was furious at Thorik. “How could you do that?”
But an explanation would have to wait, as he noticed the Blothrud guard starting to stand back up. Thorik ran past the Blothrud to collect the Spear of Rummon.
“Thorik, hurry!” Avanda yelled.
Thorik quickly wrapped a cloth around the enchanted spear’s handle and picked it up. Smoke rose from the cloth as it singed against the heat of the metal remaining from its battle with Grub. Swiveling around, he expected to see the Blothrud attacking Avanda, however he was surprised to see the Del’Unday right behind him.
Slapping the spear out of his hands for a second time, the creature twice Thorik’s size roared at him in anger. “Sec, don’t you ever strike me with the damn spear again!”
Scaring the life out of the Num, Thorik abruptly thought it odd that the Blothrud knew his spiritual designation was that of Sec.
“Next time you do that, I’ll break Rummon over your head!”
The voice was familiar. Could it be? “Santorray?” Thorik asked.
Removing his helmet, the Blothrud displayed his true identity. It was in fact Thorik’s dear friend.
Chapter 27
A Blothrud’s Point of View