The huntress shook her head. "Nothing that would shelter them at night. My guess is the cave."
John nodded. "I was thinking that too. It makes sense but it means there's no telling what we might find in that cave."
"Or who," Sadie said.
"Or what," Artesia reinforced.
John winced. "There will probably be a lot of what in there. All right... I think... well, perhaps we should come at them from here and--
"My lord?" Artesia interrupted him.
"Thank the Chimes," John sighed. "I had some ideas but you know tactics far better than I, go ahead."
Artesia suppressed a smile and knelt down on the other side of the drawing. She pointed and began to talk, sharing her thoughts on how to go about attacking the keep with their combination of sword and sorcery. John, Jennaca, and even Sadie had questions. Backup plans were made and then contingency plans were thought up in case those failed. They spent nearly an hour planning alone before they found themselves going over the same unknowns again and again.
"I think it's time," John said. He looked to each of them and got a solid nod in response. Satisfied, he turned and allowed Jennaca to lead them down from the niche they'd hidden in and back down the side of the ravine to the path below.
Once they reached the pass John gathered his four warriors together and began to trace and chant out his spell. He had to do it on each weapon, binding the spell form to the weapon in question and then funneling magic into it to empower the weapon to strike with a might it had never known before.
John finished Jennaca's sword and took a deep breath. He looked around and saw all of the women practicing with their weapons and swinging them through the air. Everyone but Artesia had a grin on their face.
"It feels different," Helleen gasped when she caught him looking at her while she practiced with her hand and a half sword. "Like it even cuts through the air better."
"My mace feels... not lighter, maybe heavier, but easier to stop and swing at the same time," Roxanne agreed.
"Artesia?" John asked.
"Magic or not, it's a poorly balanced sword that will break if the angle is wrong," she said.
"So don't get the angle wrong," John said.
Artesia glared at him.
"All right, we're off," Jennaca said. "I'll signal you when we're in place."
John watched Jennaca and Sasha slip back up the northern wall of the pass and make their way ahead of them and out of sight. He waited a few moments before turning and giving Artesia the nod she was looking for. She led the way down the path sword in hand. Helleen had her sword at the ready and Roxanne had her mace and shield in hand. John, Sadie, and Zynga followed behind them.
As they neared the mouth of the pass Artesia slowed. They path angled up to where the ravine fell away on either side to the plateau. John slipped up between them and then, with Artesia at his side, they crawled up until they could see the trampled grass in front of the construction site. Men were working on the footings of the walls and towers and on the large building in the midst of the unformed walls. A path of dying grass led from the keep to their left but they couldn't see where it ended. John knew it wasn't the path to the cave, that would be on the opposite side of the keep according to Jennaca's drawing.
John reached into himself and closed out the world around him. He found the link to Jennaca and asked, "Jennaca?"
"Almost there... close enough. Go!" Jennaca responded over their bond a few seconds later.
"My lord," Artesia hissed.
"Jen's ready," John said.
"Do it now!"
The infernal power inside of him had been growing more and more restless as they approached. It sensed a fight. Granted, it wanted to fuck far more than it wanted to fight, but it still enjoyed the activity. A fight that turned into fucking would be his demonic side's greatest victory.
John pushed the thought away as he and Artesia stood up. He wreathed his hands in dark infernal flames. There was more than just humans and a barely begun keep ahead of them, there were draconians and dragonkin too. The closest one to them was a draconian only some forty feet away. He was facing the slaves and the keep but might turn at any time. Two dragonkin were scattered and watching from seated positions on the plateau, one to the south of the keep and another in front of the gate that had yet to be started. Another draconian was barely visible further to the north on the almost muddy path that led elsewhere.
John flung the first of his demon-fire and guided it through the air so it slammed into the draconian closest to them. The monster jerked, hunched over, and then staggered forward and stood tall. He reached up to claw at his leathery head and let out a roar of pain and rage.
John flung a second bolt of black flames that his magic carried through the air and struck the chest of the second draconian that was turning at the roar of the first. He stepped back in shock and then tried to swat the flames. They climbed up his hands and arms to rejoin the flames on his chest and reach up its neck to immolate it head.
Artesia and the others were sprinting into the clearing. Artesia slashed her sword across its belly as she ran past it, careful to avoid the flames. She felt a tug in her hand that surprised her, almost causing her to lose her grip. She pulled the sword through and spun around, using the last of her momentum to drive the blade forward.
Her thrust missed because the draconian had stepped back. Its hands dropped to its belly but it was too late to clutch at its bowels that were spilling out. Its hands and arms were covered in the flames though. Flames that spread to its viscera.
Artesia flinched and turned away, crouching even as she desperately tried to move away. The burst of fire never came, but the dragonkin near the gate that saw her took its last step before leaping through the air at her.
Helleen swung her sword in an overhand chop that cleaved through the dragonkin's spine with a crunch and drove it down to the ground. She held tight to her sword as gravity and momentum carried the dragonkin away and made for a horrible squelching sound. Dark blood ran down her sword. The same blood that poured from the terrible cut in the dragonkin's back and side.
Artesia stared down at the dying beast in front of her. It clawed at the ground and snapped its mouth. She snarled and drove her sword down through its skull. The nicked and notched steel parted the bone like it was made of soft wood.
Helleen and Artesia locked gazes for a moment. Their eyes were wide with amazement.
"I love John!" Helleen declared as she brandished her sword. She turned and charged, heading for the two draconians that stood near the front of the manner.
Artesia turned to the right to face the dragonkin that was nearly upon her. It slowed when she turned towards it. Artesia snarled at the creature and started walking for it. The dragonkin froze in place, confused by her actions, and then snarled and hopped forward and to the side. Its tail lashed forward, striking like a bolt from a crossbow.
Artesia expected the attack as soon as she saw the beast throw its hindquarters to the side. She ducked to left and swung her sword up in a backhanded swipe. The sharp blade at the end of the dragonkin's tail dragged across her shoulder and back. The edge of bone grazed at an angle, scratching her hauberk and doing no damage.
Artesia's enchanted blade severed the tail at the halfway point. Hot blood sprayed across her arm, stinging her to the point she feared she'd been scalded. The dragonkin jerked its head to stare at its spurting tail and then looked at Artesia again. It lunged forward, mouth open.
Artesia fell back under the dragonkin, barely avoiding its snapping maw. It drew back its head and bored down on her chest with its claws. Its mouth opened again and fetid breath washed over her and made her gag. Artesia jammed her left arm up, desperate to block.
The creature bit down out of instinct. Artesia's hauberk and bent into her arm. The razor sharp teeth on the bottom jaw sawed through the leather and sewn-in metal on the inside of her arm even easier, tearing the skin beneath. The toothsome monster tugged, yanking her arm and threatening to dislocate her elbow, shoulder, or both.
Artesia brought her right sword up and over her head and slid it up her arm. She growled as she felt the resistance and punched through until her sword swung free. Fresh blood poured on her chest, throat, and face, blinding and gagging her.
She grunted as the dragonkin jumped off of her. She rolled, eyes squeezed shut against the burning on her face. She rubbed at her eyes, nose, and mouth with her arm and felt the bent metal scraping and cutting her.
She blinked and squinted, eyes burning and tearing up to wash away from the creature's blood. She saw it thrashing nearby, spinning one way and then the other. It was a blurry mess but it was too preoccupied to stop her from standing up and recovering enough to see it was pouring blood from its severed snout.
"Nobody ever believes me when I tell them they don't want to eat me," she said before lunging forward stabbing the dragonkin through the neck.
It thrashed again, yanking itself off her blade. Artesia backed away as it staggered a few steps sideways. It jerked its head again, spraying blood in all directions, and then fell onto one side. Its legs jerked a few more times before it blew out a final bloody spray and died.
Artesia started to turn when she was thrown forward. She slammed into the ground, hard, and knew she'd lost her sword. A heavy weight was on her back and it punched her shoulder blade twice, tugging at her as claws tore at her armor and left furrows in her skin beneath it. She tucked her head forward as the stench of a dragonkin's breath washed over her.
"Stop that!"
"Get off her!"
Artesia heard the shouts but didn't recognize the voices. The dragonkin's atop her shifted though, springing to the side but dragging her across the ground thanks to a claw that was caught in her armor. She spread her arms and legs, grabbing the ground as best she could, and tried to roll free.
The dragonkin hissed and snapped. She was lifted up a little and then driven back down. Her chin struck the ground and she coughed out what air was still in her chest. She lay stunned and new, somewhere in the dark places in her mind, that she had to move. She needed to roll. To get away. To escape or die.
The weight was gone though. The dragonkin wasn't on her anymore. She dragged herself across the ground and rolled over, gasping for air and feeling like every part of her had been yanked out and jammed back together. The dragonkin was snapping back and forth at two men that had thrown rocks at it and now had their fists up. They weren't even armed. They were going to die as soon as the dragonkin realized it.