While he knew that delivering the full might of Amun’s fury down upon the man he had until very recently held as a comrade had been a just and noble act, Vivek could not help but recoil at the sight of the viscous beating the raging bugbear began to rain down upon the heir to the throne of Dusaro. He hadn’t long to observe the end of Ronin Stonethirst, First of His Name, however, as his attention was caught and held by a flash of crimson to his flank.
The priest! At last, the priest had come to him and Vivek stood ready. Blessed Amun, strengthen my arm and let your light be as a shield, he prayed silently. With a quick flourish of his axes, the paladin prepared to engage the man who had murdered so many that he had loved, who had slain his own blood, who … just threw his dragon-headed mace to the ground?
He’s gone mad, Vivek thought. The evil he serves has finally consumed his very wits.
“Rejoice, Infidel,” the seemingly unarmed dark elf called out to him, “For I bring glad tidings.”
“Aye? And what might those be?” Vivek tightened his grip upon his axes; he would not be tricked by this servant of darkness.
“I’ve come to send you to your godling.”
The dark priest lunged at him suddenly, Amun’s light he was fast, and caught him by the throat. Vivek convulsed then, as a power that could only be described as evil incarnate coursed through his being. Gasping, Vivek lashed out with both blades, forcing the elf to free him or lose a limb. The priest chose the former, and Vivek staggered backwards. Such a strike would have toppled a lesser warrior, but not he. Vivek had fought countless battles over the years, and more than a few against the cultists of Apollyon. He knew this particular spell as a perversion of one of Amun’s most potent healing prayers; the divine wound was not mortal, but he risked falling into a swoon at any moment. Still, he had won free of the dark elf’s grasp and the priest was now well and truly unarmed before him. Time to end this, he thought.
It was then that his nose suddenly filled with the scents of jasmine and vanilla and the paladin realized, too late, that he and the priest weren’t alone. An unseen assailant grabbed him from behind, not roughly as he might have expected but rather with the gentle urgency of a woman embracing a lover.
“Peanut butter is delicious,” a sultry voice declared, the whispered breath hot and moist against his ear. A dagger bit deep into his throat, opening it fully from ear to ear. Before his sight fled him, Vivek saw his life’s blood gush out, sprayed forth onto the fell cleric’s vestments, creating a pattern of crimson and deeper crimson.
The light of Amun was engulfed by the darkness and Vivek Dayguard knew no more.
By: Cyrus, 05/13/12