Chronicles of Draezoln

Tales of the world of Draezoln

Chapter 6-2

With a terrifying war-shriek, Zakhin’Dakh plowed into the monster just before it caught his half-dragon friend. Almonihah had to fight the instinct to turn aside to help—staying here would just mean getting swarmed under by the other half-dozen or so Javni’Tolkhrah pursuing him. So he flew on, cursing his lack of practice with flight. Of course, now that he needed maximum speed he had to admit to himself that maybe avoiding flying because he kept thinking he heard Jivenesh speak in the wind when he did might not have been the best way to resolve the situation.

But now, he had no time for such thoughts. He forced his already-tiring flight muscles to push onward, pushed aside any thoughts of the vile source of his wings, and focused on evasion and flight. Down! Up! Left! Right! Somehow, he managed to stay free of the snapping jaws and slashing claws of his foes. It helped that none were particularly agile fliers—apparently being made of jumbled-up animals via chaos magic didn’t lend itself to aerodynamic shapes.

Garkhen, meanwhile, could do little to aid Almonihah, ground-bound as he was. The remaining Rangers, however, were in dire need of aid, for the remaining Javni’Tolkhrah were refocusing on them now that it was clear the Amulet was beyond their reach. The handful of survivors were falling back, too focused on survival to fire more on the monsters pursuing Almonihah.

Still filled with Bahamut’s power, he took position between them and the Javni’Tolkhrah, using Silverflame to ward the monstrosities off. Without the lure of the Amulet to provoke them they proved less willing to brave the Warder’s reach and the sting of the Rangers’ arrows, yet they were still dangerous. Garkhen could tell they were probing, looking for a weakness… a level of cunning he had not thought to attribute to the Madness-Touched.

And so he struck first. With shield held firm, he grasped his holy symbol with his other hand while keeping a hold on his mace. He chanted a spell-prayer, calling on Bahamut’s power, and a ray of light lanced out to scorch one of the Javni’Tolkhrah. It screamed hideously and jumped at him, but he was ready, lashing out with Silverflame as it reached him. In its anger it neglected defense, and so took the blow soundly on the snout. It stumbled, and then several arrows struck home in it. One found its eye, taking its life in one swift moment.

Zakhin’Dakh had felled the creature he had intercepted—it struggled to escape him to continue pursuing Almonihah, and so took too little care for its own defense. Now he was in pursuit of the others that were chasing his friend. Unlike them, he was a sure and swift flier, and so he was able to close quickly. Unfortunately the hindmost monstrosity had a barbed tail that looked slick with poison, which lashed at him almost of its own accord as he neared.

The big griffon veered this way and that, trying to get around it, but it was as if the tail had an eye in it that tracked him. Finally he fell back slightly, then, with strong wingbeats, rose above the Javni’Tolkhrah and just flew forward, completely avoiding it. It was the slowest, anyway. It was the fastest one he should worry about. 

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Writing combat for three characters at once is a bit challenging. 

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