As they sprinted up the hill, a howl erupted in the dark followed by several others. This only caused the dwarf and boy to sprint faster up the hill. When they reached the summit nearly out of breath, Barain dropped his pack and drew his axe. Then he turned to Zaradanoric but saw that he already had his fathers broken sword drawn.
The dwarf shouted, “Now boy. We fight for our lives. Take this sword and never let it go! Fight back to back with me! Lets move our way up the hills as we go. We may find help!”
The sturdy dwarf remounted his pack and drew from his belt pouch a small cylindrical object. He pulled a string and held it skyward. Suddenly a bright blue-green sparkling light shot into the sky and flew for a time before fading out. Though partially blinded by the flash Zaradanoric realized it was a firework.
Zaradanoric asked, “Why were you shooting a firework? It’s not the time for celebration. We haven’t even begun to fight.” Then he stared at the dwarf as his eyes adjusted waiting for an answer.
Barain spoke without looking at him and said, “Twas another idea gathered from the mines. We would carry flares and if we got into trouble or were attacked we would fire off a flare. Hopefully, it will be recognized or seen and someone will come investigate.
At that point Zaradanoric was too exhausted to verbally reply, so he nodded and dashed on. Once they reached the summit, they both paused and stood for a minute inhaling air into their burning lungs. While they looked around, their pursuers began to encircle. Suddenly, a fireball whizzed past them and slammed into the slope near them. The snow melted completely in that area before it refroze. The two travelers looked for cover but found none as the snow blasted around them.
“Blast! This weather is not normal,” Barain bellowed, “This is some magic of the enemy. We have to stand and fight it! Come on Lad!”
Zaradanoric drew his sword hilt with jagged edges and stood side by side with the stocky dwarf, who had drawn his axes, to repel the assault. For a minute nothing came, but out of the frost two wolves and a crebain lurched. Barain dispatched one wolf quickly but Zaradanoric struggled to fend of both the wolf and crebain. He smacked the crebain hard with the flat of his blade and broke its neck. As he turned to face the wolf it pounced on him and its claws sunk into his chest.
As warm blood soaked his shirt, Zaradanoric saw Barain cut the wolf’s head off. As he pulled Zaradanoric up the dwarf quipped, “I don’t think he will be needing that anymore!” and he swiftly kicked the severed head into the woods.
Barain began to patch some of Zaradanorics wounds but they were interrupted. A massive fireball slammed into the hilltop next to them and exploded. It severed the rope binding the two together and flung them away from each other. Zaradanoric’s ears were ringing but he still clutched his sword piece in one hand.
A series of raged forms mounted the hilltop followed by a figure garbed in red. That figure sent chills down Zaradanorics spine as he watched. They seemed to be speaking about something but Zaradanoric could not hear what they were speaking of. Then two of them moved and picked up Barain, who was still unconscious from the blow. They began to lug him away but Zaradanoric rallied the last of his strength and rose from the red snow around him. As he searched for a weapon he remembered a piece of advice his father taught him. Sometimes a dagger can reach farther than any sword.
So with this though Zaradanoric flung his knife at the red-garbed figure and collapsed into the snow as his wounds continued to bleed. His actions though were rewarded with a disturbing shriek that pierced the air. Zaradanoric was roughly rolled over and a foot was placed on his throat. As he began to lose his foothold on life something rose in Zaradanoric. He began to struggle for life and survival. He weakly pushed back at the foot and continued to struggle but was only rewarded with a heavier pressure.
The evil feeling red-garbed figure strode into view but Zaradanoric could see no face under his hood only shadow. Suddenly, it looked up, hissed, and ran faster than anything Zaradanoric had ever seen. His head began to ring and he no longer felt the pressure on his throat.
“This must be what death feels like,” he muttered. Then he heard a strong brogue belt out.
“Here they are lads! They are over here!” Zaradanoric felt himself lifted as light filled his view. “Don’t worry now lad we have you both safe and sound.”
As Zaradanoric passed out that was the last thing he heard and it sounded fine to him. Two words rolled through his numb thoughts. Safe and sound.
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