 
       
|
Walf's AdventureChapter 9: Battle With Brugs
The cathedral of St. Henry in the Capitol City was indeed a grand building. Spires and pinnacles stretched heavenward on cascading platforms supported by pillars and arches of various architecture. There was many an alcove with the sculpted likeness of some classic saint and on every fringe and corner could be seen the grotesque figures of the gar-boys and gar-girls. Many a prayer and praise had been lifted up in that building. And many a sacred ceremony had completed its rites within those walls. But alas, those days were over now. The cathedral had sustained heavy damage during the BloodVaine war and was now boarded up, being deemed structurally unsound. Now it was little more then a shelter for the thieves and homeless of Orion. And on this night, it was the hideout for a large group of newly born ghosts.
In the center of the cathedral, stood Brugs, poised on the altar like a champion surveying the carnage of a great battle won. The sword he had wedged firmly into the wood, acting as a leash to hold all the other spirits inside the cathedral.
He was chuckling to himself and feeling the most alive since his death. Killing was great sport. Even if Brugs had to remember to only kill those weaker then him. It wouldn’t do to have some stronger person come in and take control. Old poeple, children and women. Those were the victims. Oh, and the women. It was good to have them back. The Dragon Master had already had his way with a few of the girls he’d murdered. Yes, this was going perfect. But Brug’s cruel chuckle was cut short, suddenly, by a challenge from without.
“Demon!”
It was Keavur Stormspear. He called in a bold voice, clutching Derek’s cross and throwing back his hood as if daring the world to deliver him to his brother.
“Come out demon! Come, and try your blackness against my furry! Emerge, you coward, so I may deliver you back to the pit!”
Brugs went to the window, looking to see this new fool who dared to challenge him.
“Demon, eh? We’ll see.”
“Everyone back in the sword!” he called, striding back to the altar.
Slowly the spirits obliged. Dejected, they returned to the cursed sword. All that is, but one, a young boy, stopped at the foot of the saber and looked up at Brugs.
“You’re a bully.” he said, spiting on the Dragon Master’s shoe.
Brugs glarred. You could almost see the steam coming out of his ears. The Dragon Master grabbed the boy’s neck, snapping the spine and throwing him into the sword before he could cry out in pain.
“Anybody else want to object?” Brugs bellowed.
Dale and the rest of the spirits hurried into the sword. Somewhat because of Brug’s threats, but mostly to comfort the boy who, though still ‘alive’, would be in great pain. When all were inside, Brugs turned invisible and yanked the sword out of the altar. He had found that it was easier to control the sword from the outside, where he could use not only his mind, but his strength to control it as well. None of the others would deter him now.
Meanwhile, Keavur had entered the building. The sound of his feet echoed through the sanctuary as he walked down the center aisle. Then, the sword appeared.
“Now, hunter,” Brugs called in his best demon imitation, “I will cut you to ribbons!”
The saber flew at Keavur like an arrow from a bow, but the hunter didn’t flinch. His eyes only narrowed and let lose a telekinetic blast. It was the same trick used to bring down the dragon Coal-Blood during the battle for Orion. But his brother had been with him that day, and today he was not.
Brugs took the impact of the blow full force. It felt like a hurricane had just swept passed him and into the wall behind. Indeed, the wall was obliterated and Brugs was stunned for moment. For a moment, but no longer. Now the ghost charged forward full force, unhindered by any threat to its own safety. Keavur had barely enough time to ready his spear before the sword was upon him. In the nick of time he deflected the sword and rolled under a pew on his left.
“What manner of demon is this?” Keavur swore under his breath, “The blast didn’t even phase him.”
Suddenly the blade appeared right between Keavur’s eyes. Splitting the pew above him until it stopped, just touching the bridge of his nose. Before the hunter could react, a blow to the head sent him rolling from under the pew. Keavur’s head reeled. It felt like someone had just kicked him full force with a steel-toed boot.
This is no ordinary demon. Keavur thought.
Suddenly there was a sound of splintering above him as the sword freed itself. Keavur jolted back to reality and the problem at hand. He stood up with a backward summersault and grabbed his spear. The sword charged again but this time Keavur was ready.
Brugs was enjoying this. Finally, a challenge! The ghost charged again, heading straight for the hunter’s heart.
“This man will die!”
Suddenly Keavur raised his spear, running it right through Brug’s hand, between the hilt and the hand-guard of the sword. Without waiting a moment the master spear wielder spun his weapon down and into the floor. Brugs actually lost his hold on the sword and it clattered to the tiles where Keavur pinned it under his boot.
Kneeling beside the weapon, Keavur placed his hands on the hilt and closed his eyes. It had been a while since he had performed an exorcism and he’d never before done it on a sword. Quickly he mumbled the ancient words that sounded vaguely like Latin. He hadn’t got two sentences out, however, before he was interrupted. Suddenly Keavur found himself hoisted into the air as though by some invisible phantom and hurled across the room. He didn’t fly very far, but slid when he landed, across the floor and into a pile of ruble and stained glass.
“Nano!” Keavur swore, “That’s no demon. That’s--”
“A ghost.” a voice behind him finished. It was Jos. The baker was crouched behind the ruble, sweating and panting. It had been a long run to the cathedral and his old side wound was hurting like mad.
“Come on.” Jos wheezed, “I saw a door back there that was still on its hinges.”
Jos gave the demon hunter and hand up and they both ran for the door. Meanwhile, Brugs ripped Keavur’s spear out of the cracked tiling and threw it across the room.
“Let’s see how long you last without your weapon!” Brugs said, picking up his sword.
“Leave them be, Brugs.” said Dale from inside the sword, “Can’t you see they’re retreating?”
“Shut up!” said Brugs, “They’re already dead.”
The Dragon Master looked up to where his prey had just slammed a door.
Fools! he thought, Doors do not hold me!
| Previous Page | Next Chapter |
|
|
