A night in the streets of Rhy'Din

[Aelric Shadowmane]

The evening started normally enough. The elf wandered the streets of Rhy'Din, making his way towards the Arena to perhaps catch a duel or two. The violence of the streets had lessened dramatically since the death of Shakira, and the elf saw more denizens of the city wandering the streets, even at this late hour, than he had in many moons.

The elf's thoughts roamed aimlessly as he moved along the familiar route. His attention were not on his surroundings. As he turned into an alleyway that served as a shortcut to the Arena, the elf was broken from his reverie by a chilling sense at the back of his neck. He stopped abruptly and focused his senses into the shadows of the alley, looking for something amiss.

A small noise alerted him to the attack before it hit. The elf ducked and dodged away, narrowly escaping the blade that sliced through the air where he had once stood. His attacker looked human, which is all the time the elf had time to determine before he was forced to defend himself. Without concious thought, the elf drew the blade he wore at his side. The runed weapon gleamed bright silver in the darkness, reflecting the inner light of its elven crafting.

The elven rapier swept away the attack with ease. The human's assault was clumsy and inelegant. The effort of someone unused to the weapon. A quick twist and the human was disarmed, his sword flying off to clatter against a brick wall a few yards away. The elf followed with a snapkick to knock the man down.

Aelric backed away a step, giving the human a chance to run, but he did not. To the elf's surprise and dismay, the human charged right at him. Forced against his will, the elf lunged forward with the rapier driving it home into his assailant's chest. The silver blade slid home easily, piercing flesh with enchanted ease.

The elf was astounded by the human's utter recklessness...but only for the briefest of moments. A flash of pain staggered the elf forward, only his own sylvan reflexes saved him from a crippling injury as a second swordsman struck at him from behind. Aelric spun as he stumbled forward, alarmed to discover three more villains coming towards him, each with a sword drawn and ready.

The elf sensed an oddness to their movements. There was a stiffness to their steps, almost...puppetlike. Rallying himself, the elf brought the gleaming blade back up into a ready defense. They rushed at him as one, their swords held before them in crude, clumsy fashion. The elf grasped the edge of his shadowcloak and pulled it across and in front of their charge. Infused with Shadow, the cloak hid the elf from his attackers' sight for just a moment. Their rush came on unabated. A rush which led them into a stumbling crash as their target displaced away.

One of the men fell to the ground, losing hold of his weapon. The other two, staggered for a moment, were ready targets for the elf's rapier. Slipping liquidly from the shadows, the silver weapon flashed like lightning, once, twice it thrust, impaling each target in turn. The men fell silently to the ground.

Aelric frowned to himself at the odd behavior of his opponents. Their jerkiness, their unnatural silence. They behaved as if men possessed. The last thought raced through the elf with great alarm.

"Are these truly ruffians? Or rather innocent men possessed by evil and forced against their will?" The last man had regained his feet, and his weapon, and charged at the elf with willful disregard for the fate of his companions. "What thug has the courage to attack when his comrades lay slain around him?"

The elf parried the attack, sweeping the rapier across laterally, and countered with a quick slash along the man's sword arm. His assailant voiced no cry of pain as he dropped his weapon from nerveless fingers. Instead he reached for a belt knife with the hand that still worked.

Aelric was aghast at the man's bewildering resolve. "Is there no way to avoid killing the man? Must I leave him crippled or dead on the ground?"

The elf shifted, drawing the darkness to himself and moving away. The shadowcloak worked its magic to conceal and evade, but with awe the elf saw that the human turned straight for him. Partly into the Shadow plane, Aelric saw for the first time the odd aura surrounding the man. A hungry red halo, dark and violent, emanated from the man.

Intent upon his death, the man rushed the elf despite Aelric's concealment in shadow. This should have been impossible for a normal human. The elf crouched, bringing his rapier up regretfully. "It seems there will be no choice." With resignation the elf lunged in under the wild cut, thrusting his rapier a final time.

With unerring accuracy, the rapier pierced the heart and the man slumped forward, already dead.

Aelric pulled the rapier free from the corpse as it crumpled to the ground. As he did so, he could just make out the red aura slipping free from the body. The spectral being hovered for a moment, its malevolence broadcast strongly in radiating waves. Aelric's enchanted sword blazed with silver light, reacting to the phantasmic entity. The elf slashed the air before him, waving off the wraith. The wraith backed off, slipping further away into the alley. retreating from before the bespelled weapon.

Keen elven eyes swept the alleyway for more of the red auras that marked the wraiths, but all that met his gaze were the bodies of the four men. Their corpses, now freed of their possession, could not reveal to the elf if they had been good men or bad. All the elf knew of them was that his blade had taken their lives.

Aelric moved from the alley his mood dark and saddened. "Were they just hapless innocents taken over by malevolent spirits? Or were they ruffians by trade that deserved death?" The elf feared the former was true. That some time previous to this night, these had been if not good men at least not evil ones.

Perhaps the rumors were true. Perhaps evil still roamed the darkened byways of Rhy'Din. The elf had not missed the stories of strange wraith-like creatures in the Arena. Creatues most had thought driven off by the great battle which had resulted in Overlord Shakira's death.

The elf was troubled in spirit and no longer continued towards the Arena. If it were true that evil still roamed in Rhy'Din, then it was needful for weapons to be found that could drive them off without killing the innocent people that had become their puppets.

[Aelric Shadowmane]

The elf bided his time. It had taken many days to craft his plan. In the intervening time, he had ventured many times into the shadowy alleyways and less traveled streets of Rhy'Din. He was careful to conceal his presence, making use of the powers of his shadowcloak to hide his presence. His worst fears were confirmed. An evil roamed the hidden places of Rhy'Din. An evil that wrapped itself in the flesh of others.

Twice more the elf had found the need to protect himself with his enchanted blade. Aelric deeply regretted the lives he was forced to take. He had done his best to remain unseen, but even partially into the plane of Shadow, the posessed had been able to see him. Whatever evil had invaded their bodies was endowed with supernatural senses.

Aelric had heard the stories of the so-called wraiths that had been fought in the Arena. As the stories went, the wraiths had been summoned forth from the Ward of Gondar by the one called Shakira. It had been thought their menace had been abated when Shakira had fallen, but clearly that was not true. There was still a danger. One that had seeped into the streets of Rhy'Din and in the places the humans called Badside.

The elf needed a weapon if he was to combat them. A weapon that could strike them without harming the host. For that reason, Aelric found himself in the domicile of the human woman, PJ Ramirez.

He hid, displaced in Shadow, watching the woman for a small time before making the decision to reveal himself. The woman sat upon the floor, holding the object of his quest in her hands. She stared into its dark surface as though enchanted by some vision.

Bracing himself, the elf stepped from the Shadow.

The woman did not immediately react to his sudden presence. His footfalls were quiet, but he should have been well within her peripheral vision. Her attention remained solely upon the opal.

The elf hesitated several paces away, unsure how to safely gain her attention. "I beg your pardon, milady." He interjected quietly into the silence of the room.

At first, there was no response. She remained rapt upon the jewel in her hands. The elf coughed and tried again a little more loudly. "Your pardon, milady..."

PJ Ramirez started with his second attempt and looked towards him. Her gaze seemed dazed and confused. She struck the elf as one coming out of a deep slumber. "Who...?"

"I crave your pardon, milady Ramirez. I am called Aelric Shadowmane. I have come to ask a boon of you." The elf took a step closer, kneeling as he did so that he was at her eye level.

The woman blinked and stared at him. Her gaze still seemed unfocused. "A boon?"

Aelric smiled gently, "yes, I would ask a favor of you." The elf's eyes shifted to the opal that she held in her hands. "I hoped to ask to borrow..." he hesitated when he saw her hands wrap tightly about the opal and begin to pull it away. He had been about to ask to borrow the opal, but realized that perhaps he would need to choose his words more carefully.

It had been rumored the opals carried within them a will of their own. Many knew about the powers they had demonstrated. Some of them were quite notorious in their demonstrations. The one called FireStar, for example, was reputed to have burned down the Outback, possibly on more than one occasion. Seeing the human, and the way she held the opal so possessively led the elf to believe the stories were true. The elf hoped that would not complicate his plans.

These thoughts filtered through Aelric's mind in the moments before he continued. "I hoped to borrow the services of the opal you hold. The one called ShadoWeaver." He nodded towards the opal but made no move towards it that might alarm her.

PJ's attention was on the opal, staring at it wonderingly. "You know something of the opals? About this opal?" She was more focused now. The elf thought he heard an element of excitement in her voice. Her eyes glittered as she looked to him.

As she began to get to her feet, the elf rose quickly and offered his hand to assist her. "Yes, I know some about the opal you hold. Perhaps I might explain to you my need, and how I hope the opal might be of help."

"Yes, I would like to hear your story." She gestured towards the kitchenette, "perhaps over a drink? Do you like Tequila?"

The elf smiled politely, "water would be fine."

~~~

Aelric was finishing the preparations for the ritual as the woman watched him. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"No, I am almost ready. I would try to explain it, but..." and the elf turned to look at the woman, "...do you know aught of what your kind calls magic?" PJ shook her head. "I thought not."

The elf frowned as he stepped carefully about the circle of protection he had drawn upon the floor. "Then I shall try to keep my explanation simple."

The raven-haired elf inspected the ring, making sure that the circle was complete and perfect. It was always best to take precautions when working enchantments. Especially when the tools being used might have wills of their own. If the opal resisted him, the spell could prove quite dangerous.

Aelric gestured to the circle. "This is not a part of the spell I would do, but rather a protection, a ward, against something going wrong."

"Like the Ward of Gondar?" PJ asked, sitting with her knees drawn up towards her chin, perched upon a barstool.

"Somewhat. That ward works to heal those who duel. This ward will be used to contain what I do to within the circle."

"And then what?"

"When I begin, I will empower the circle, and then I will attempt to tap the energies within the opal. I will try to use the opal to infuse this gem," the elf displayed a small black opal, "with the properties I desire."

"What is it your are trying to create again? A shadow blade?"

"Yes, a weapon of shadow, a tool that I may use against the wraiths that can strike against the spirit instead of the flesh."

"Does ShadoWeaver have that power?"

"That is a complicated question." The elf smiled at her and paused in his preparations. He looked at her with eyes of deep violet. "The opal does not have 'powers', not like this sword for example," and the elf drew his enchanted silver rapier to demonstrate. "I have infused this blade with spells that assist me in battling against creatures of shadow, but it has no sentience, and the things I may do with it are limited by the spells I have laid into it."

After sheathing his blade, Aelric approached the bar and pointed to the opal which lay upon its surface. "The opal you hold, like its kin, are more than that. They are more primal. They might be described as the essence of fire, of water, of air, of earth, and of spirit." The elf struggled to find a way to explain them in a way that would make sense. "You might call them a 'source' of power."

"So they are more like a battery?"

"I suppose you could term it like so. The one you call FireStar, for example, is the essence of fire. It can be used to empower effects fueled by fire. They are very powerful."

"And ShadoWeaver?" PJ reached for the opal, lifting it up to peer at.

"The black opal is the most elusive of the five to explain. Its essence is that of spirit. It has the ability to affect the mind and spirit. One might describe it as the power of illusion, but it is more than that. So much more..." the elf paused in his explanation. Should he warn her? He was torn on that matter. It was clear the opal had enthralled her. Would his warning cause her to panic? How deeply was the opal affecting her? Would it act to protect itself in some manner? Perhaps by using PJ to lash out in defense?

He chose to keep his tongue for now. His need for the opal's powers was too great. That must come first. The warning later.

Aelric held out his hand to her, "may I?"

PJ hesitated for a moment, as if unsure about letting the opal leave her grasp, and then placed it in his hand. "Tell me more."

The elf concealed his relief and moved closer to the circle of protection. "I will use the ShadoWeaver to infuse this smaller opal with a tiny portion of its essence. It will be unlike its 'parent' if you will, as the true opals are self-energizing. They 'live' if you want to call it that. They are truly infinite in their capacity. The lens I create will allow me to craft a weapon of spirit, a weapon of shadow, that I may use to strike against the wraiths without causing harm to the hosts they infest."

Aelric looked back to the woman before stepping into the circle, "please remember not to cross the circle until the spell is complete, no matter what happens, as it could be dangerous." The elf did not say that that danger might be from ShadoWeaver itself.

The woman nodded her understanding and leaned forward on the stool, ready to watch the ritual.

Taking ShadoWeaver into the circle, the elf gestured briefly and infused the circle with a small portion of his power, activating its protection. From this point forward, no energies would be able to cross into or out of the circle, until the circle was deactivated.

Aelric placed ShadoWeaver into a crystal brazier that had been placed in the center of the circle. It sat alongside of the smaller opal that would be enchanted during the ritual. The elf knelt down before the brazier readying himself. Reaching down with his mind, the elf probed the target opal with his thoughts, learning its features, coming to fully know it.

Time became irrelevant as the elf immersed himself in the small opal he intended to enchant. His thoughts moved through it, studying its every curve and impurity. The elf pushed his power through the opal purifying it and readying it for its purpose.

Satisified the opal was ready, the elf began laying down the template spells for the effects he desired. Once, twice, and then thrice he worked the spells into the opal, setting them into place. He worked slowly ensuring that each spell took without error.

Aelric opened his eyes, pausing now, readying himself for the most difficult part of the enchantment. Now he needed to tap into ShadoWeaver. To coax out of it the power that would ultimately empower his new weapon.

His focus moved to ShadoWeaver. His thoughts reached out carefully, feeling its powerful aura. Aelric almost gasped as he made contact with ShadoWeaver. He could feel its sentience immediately. So it was true!

The elf felt the pulsing power of ShadoWeaver course into his thoughts. Aelric was suddenly engulfed with a sensation of falling. The power of the opal was staggering. He felt swept away in a storm of energy. The sensation was terrifying. He feared becoming lost as the waves of power moved through him.

Aelric fought for focus. He struggled to regain his center, feeling as if he were being battered about in a raging sea. After what seemed hours, the elf felt the storm begin to lessen. Within his mind's eye, the elf saw himself at the center of swirling energies, like the eye of a storm. Exhaustion threatened to overwhelm him. Externally, he could feel the sweat which poured down his face.

Within the deepest recesses of his mind, the elf thought he heard a voice whispering to him. He was quick to ward off those thoughts fearing what might happen if the sentience of ShadoWeaver were to usurp him. He must finish quickly while the opal of power did not oppose him.

Mentally dipping his fingers into the swirl of energies coursing through ShadoWeaver, Aelric drew the power into the gemstone he had prepared. He worked the energies into the stone feeling it slide into the templates he had prepared. Like filling a cup, the power flowed into the receptacle gem.

After the time-consuming struggle for control with ShadoWeaver, it took only moments to charge the new gem's spells. Aelric carefully released ShadoWeaver and began the rituals that would seal the enchantments into the gem. Each spell was closed off in turn, fixing the enchantment. The small gemstone pulsed faintly, mirroring in tempo the pulsations of power that still rippled through ShadoWeaver.

The elf fell back, to sit upon the floor inside the circle of protection. Weariness swept through him. Exhausted, the elf saw that PJ was crouched just outside of the circle, her attention intently upon the crystal brazier.

"Did it work?" Almost a breathless whisper, her eyes never leaving the brazier, or perhaps ShadoWeaver.

Aelric shifted, moving back to the brazier. He dispelled the circle with a casual wave of his hand and then reached for the empowered gemstone. PJ seemed to sense the circle's dispersion...or perhaps ShadoWeaver had called to her with the circle's interference no longer present...and was there beside him, reaching out to reclaim it.

Her gaze was torn between ShadoWeaver, which she quickly tucked away, and the gem the elf held.

"We shall see in but a moment." Aelric stood and pulled a silver rod from a harness on his belt. The rod, formed into the shape of a sword hilt, had a small depression on one end, where the elf placed the gem. Already prepared, the hilt's magics caused the gem to adhere immediately.

Grasping the hilt, the elf raised the device up and focused his will upon it. A flicker of black light shone from the gem, and then a blade composed of shadow grew out from it. Long and straight, the shadowy blade shimmered slightly, its edges difficult to see.

The elf grinned to PJ, "I believe it worked."

Ramirez grinned back at him.

~~~

Aelric had been surprised to discover just how long the rituals had taken. After a period of rest, the elf worked with PJ to clean up and recover his tools. The crystal brazier was carefully placed back into its protective case and put away, and the circle of protection was dispersed.

"I will need to test this weapon, to see if it will indeed serve my need, but I am grateful to you, milady, for your assistance." The elf smiled at her and offered a deep bow.

PJ grinned back at him, "I'm glad to have been able to help. Thanks for letting me watch, and for telling me more about ShadoWeaver."

Getting serious for a moment, the elf looked at her. Although he was ready to depart, he felt a need to warn her. "I hope that you will be cautious with ShadoWeaver. Its...power...can be very seductive."

The smile did not leave her features, but her eyes darkened slightly, "I will, believe me."

Aelric nodded, accepting her answer. He hoped that she would have the strength of will to resist the influence of ShadoWeaver's sentience. He did not know whether the opal might have dangerous intent, but even from his brief experience with it he felt sure that caution was imperative.

He debated saying more, but decided against it. She had said she would be careful. He only hoped that would be true.

After bowing to her again, the elf made his exit. "I wish you well, PJ Ramirez. Live in health and joy." Stepping away from the light, the elf pulled the shadowcloak around his shoulders and slipped away.

It was time to test his new weapon.

[Aelric Shadowmane]

The elf explored the darkened streets and byways of Rhy'Din, seeking those upon which he could test his new weapon. He had wandered for many days, searching out the specific sort of target he required. While the average sort of ruffian prowled the late night city streets, none who seemed possessed revealed themselves to him. His test of the new blade would have to wait a while longer it would seem.

Taking a respite from his hunting, the elf made his way into the Arena. Perhaps a duel would give him release for nervous energy. His attention was almost immediately caught by the figure standing in the rings. A human woman with the stench of the dead about her. The body that stood in the rings bore large wounds, the most prominent of which was the gaping hole in her chest where her heart should have been.

The elf was unsure what was more surprising, that the dead figure stood there so obviously animate, or that the figure sought opponents to duel.

A familiar voice interjected into the room, "came back for more?" Turning, the elf saw Amaltea, a one-time Overlord of these rings according to the records. Aelric had met her upon an occasion or two before, and had even once dueled her. Her skills had been formidable.

The elf's gaze swept back to the walking corpse and then to Amaltea again. Her words suggested they had dueled in the recent past. "You have seen her here before?"

"We tried to get rid of her last night," Amaltea answered. The corpse-like figure reacted to Amaltea's entrance, tightening its grip on a bared sword. "At least that look means she remembers me." The ex-Overlord drew her own blade in response to a hiss from the corpse.

The corpse looked as if it might fall apart with but a blow or two. While Aelric pondered this, another dueler called out, seeking a duel. Turning his attention away from the woman, and from Amaltea, the elf answered the call and shortly thereafter moved to a ring for a duel.

The duel had been quick, the elf scoring his fifth point in the eleventh round to secure the win. His attention in the latter rounds had been heavily distracted when he had begun hearing noises from another ring that turned out to be Amaltea dueling with the corpse. While distracting enough in itself, the elf had been alarmed to see what appeared to be a wraith circling the dead woman.

Finishing his duel, the elf made his way to the ring where Amaltea contested with the corpse. As he approached, the elf shifted himself slightly, moving partly into the Shadow where the wraiths would be more clearly visible. Yes. There was a wraith, and not just one but three, that circled the figure of the dead woman whom he had heard called Jenia. The same Jenia that had been brutally slain in these same rings, or so it had been reported.

The elf tensed as he watched the wraiths. His hand sought the silver hilt he wore at his side. Perhaps he would find a test for his new weapon after all.

As the duel ended, the corpse of Jenia seemed yet further abused, new rents and cuts marking dead flesh, testament to the skills of the former Overlord, Amaltea. The corpse, if it had even felt any of the new wounds, gave no indication of it, still standing in the ring, sword bared. Amaltea, on the other hand, faltered and seemed ready to fall. The elf hurried towards her side "are you well?"

Aelric also spared a glance towards the corpse to see her reaction and was alarmed by the sight of wraiths racing at him. With no time for thought, the elf pulled free the silver hilt and activated the spell of the Shadowblade. Black light burst from the hilt, forming the image of a blade. The elf immediately interposed himself between the wraiths and Amaltea.

The first wraith speared towards him, and the elf slashed through it with the Shadowblade, cleaving its ethereal substance. The wraith dispersed violently, becoming no more from the strike of the magical blade, proving its effectiveness at once.

Any sense of triumph or satisfaction the elf might have felt was immediately sundered as he felt the bite of steel from behind. Staggering forward in pain, the elf spun about to face his attacker and his jaw fell slack as he saw the ex-Overlord coming at him with her blade in rapid motion.

The elf scrambled back and away, unsheathing his silver rapier with his free hand to defend himself. The Shadowblade, designed for its more specific purpose, was of little use in the parrying of weapons.

Aelric found himself hard-pressed. Amaltea might have become possessed, the only thing that could explain her sudden attack, but it had not impaired her swordsmanship to any great extent. The elf continued to retreat, trying to keep track of the wraiths that circled about while also keeping Amaltea from spilling his blood. Any concern about the location of Jenia had been forgotten.

In the background, Aelric could hear voices calling out in alarm. One was the voice of the caller, Rory. He could make out her words dimly, but as desperately as he found himself trying to avoid Amaltea he could not focus on what Rory called out to him. He could only hope that he might have a chance to try out the Shadowblade once more. To test its true purpose and function.

His chance came a moment later, the ex-Overlord's blade swept in. The elf parried with the rapier, turning away her attack, while launching his own with the Shadowblade. The dark energy of the spellblade swept through in a broad cut, moving effortlessly through Amaltea like a shadow. Her body convulsed in response.

The wraith that possessed her had felt the attack, Aelric was sure of it. The wraith-taken Amaltea redoubled her attack. Her blows came at the elf with furious intensity. Again he felt the bite of her sword, and he spun away grimacing in pain. The wraith protected her from him. He could not strike at her with the rapier for fear of harming her, while the wraith had no such worries. Her style was purely aggressive. There was no attempt at defense whatsoever.

The elf circled away, doing his best to keep her attacks at bay. He watched for his chance to make use of the Shadowblade again. A wraith swept in at him, seeking to enter him through the wounds Amaltea had inflicted. The Shadowblade lashed out, cleaving the wraith in twain, dispersing it. Clearly the wraiths had more resistance when protected by a host. Free-roaming, the touch of the Shadowblade was proving very effective at destroying them.

How many blows would it take to defeat the one that had possessed Amaltea? Could he free her? Would the spells he had fashioned serve as he had intended? The elf circled carefully, keeping Amaltea's attacks away. Her skill was remarkable, his only real chance lay in the fact that the wraith had not yet mastered her. The attacks were fast, furious and powerful, but they did not rain with the same polish the elf had felt the last time he dueled her.

Eventually, the wraith would over-extend. Leave the woman completely open, and then the elf would find his target.

His opening came.

The woman charged him, her blade swinging out of position. The elf lunged forward, burying the blade of Shadow into her chest and holding it there. Her step staggered and the attack fell away. The woman released a scream and fell.

Immediately Rory's words were in his ears. "What did you do to her!" The caller had raced to Amaltea's side.

The elf watched carefully, Amaltea's fall was unexpected, but then he could not have known what to expect. He quickly checked for sign of the third wraith, but it was nowhere to be seen. Nor was the corpse of Jenia, which must have departed while he and Amaltea fought.

Feeling safe for the moment from a wraith attack, the elf quickly knelt by the side of Amaltea. Rory's muttered words sent a chill through him. "We're in so much trouble if you've killed her."

The elf too felt that same chill. Had the wraith been freed from her? Would she recover? Had the wraith harmed her before being destroyed? "I too...I too hope that no harm has come to her." The elf felt for pulse and looked for her breathing. A tightness around his heart loosened when Amaltea groaned and began to slowly awaken.

The elf was still wary. He was not certain the wraith had been destroyed. He kept his fingers around the hilt of the Shadowblade and watched her come awake. If she moved to resume her attack, he would be ready. "Are you well? Can you sit up?"

"The Dark Demon had you" Rory stated in a firm tone.

Amaltea blinked in confusion, "Dark Demon?"

The elf felt relief flow through him. It appeared she was free. His grip on the Shadowblade loosened and the shadowy blade dispersed. "I believe she means a wraith."

"A wraith..." the tone was questioning, Amaltea was not yet back to her full senses. "I saw you..." she said as she looked at the elf.

The elf bowed his head shortly. "Please forgive me. I did not mean to harm you...but when you came at me..."

"I tried to stop, but I couldn't!" Amaltea was more focused now. "It was strange..."

"Right, right. Wraith. You're not hurt, are you? If so, it was all Aelric. Tell Xeno. All Aelric." Rory's words sounded almost hysterical.

The elf became alarmed, "No! I...I did my best not to..." he was uncertain what to say, how to answer.

Amaltea was able to smile, "No, I'm ok. I think...just hurt a little." She sat up somewhat. Her gaze turned to the elf. "What did you do?" And after another moment, "that was painful."

The elf explained about the weapon he had crafted, the Shadowblade.

Amaltea also asked Rory about the Dark Demons. Rory explained about the Fe'Ral, a people that could see spirits. The Fe'Ral had called them Dark Demons.

After more assurances that she was well, the elf helped Amaltea to her feet. He swept the arena with his gaze once more, confirming that Jenia had departed.

On her feet again, Amaltea commented, "so that's what it feels like to be wraith-possessed."

Nearby, Deluthan stood near Rory. "I was like her?" He referred to Amaltea.

Rory nodded to him. "Mm...You came in that way. Pain, wounds, blood... it attracts them." Deluthan had apparently been possessed as well, though it was clear he had been freed of their influence.

Aelric did not hear the rest of their conversation as he focused on Amaltea. "I believe that you will be alright now." He studied her, making sure she was fully recovered. "Though, it would not hurt to rest, I think."

"I'm glad you were here to help me...." she began.

After a moment, the elf realized she was waiting for him to introduce himself. He turned and offered a short bow to her. "I am called Aelric. Aelric Shadowmane by my people. I am pleased to have been able to assist you."

She smiled to the elf. "A pleasure to meet you, Aelric. I was actually thinking...you should talk to my husband about the wraiths." She pointed to the ring in that Jenia had appeared in. "We have been trying to figure out what that is all about."

"Your husband?" the elf asked.

The woman explained that her husband was the famed sorceror, Xenograg, who had also been an Overlord of these rings. She told him that Xeno would have an interest in discussing the elf's blade. She felt strongly that the elf and Xeno should meet.

After agreeing with her, and suggesting they meet here at the arena, the elf and Amaltea parted ways for the evening. Before he left, the elf pondered offering his services to Chris Graziano in regard to dealing with the wraith problem. The elf decided he should meet with the sorceror first, and then moved towards the shadows pulling his cloak about himself and slipping away into the plane of Shadow.

[Aelric Shadowmane]

The elf returned to the Arena two nights later. With the success of the previous night, when Shadowblade proved a success in freeing Amaltea from wraith possession, Aelric was anxious to meet up with the sorceror Xenograg.

Aelric's eyes swept the room searching for the sorceror, but Xenograg was not the first figure that caught his gaze. Instead, the elf was surprised to discover the woman, Jenia. Following the dead woman's gaze, the elf saw Amaltea lingering near the rings. The elf moved with haste to her side, pleased to see that the sorceror was with her.

Amaltea sensed his approach and turned towards him. "I am so glad to see you here, Aelric. It seems your sword is needed tonight." Her words were soft, intended to carry no farther than needed within the croweded and noisy room.

The elf nodded grimly to her, but his eyes did not tarry long from Jenia.

Standing next to Amaltea, Xenograg greeted the Overlord, Anubis Karos. While they spoke short words to each other, the elf kept his focus on the dead woman watching for any sign of wraiths. Karos was reputed to have had close dealings with a previous Overlord, namely Shakira. Word on the streets was that Karos and Shakira had been allies. Aelric wondered if there was also a connection between Karos and the return of Jenia, as it was widely rumored that Shakira had been behind the event that freed the wraiths to come through the Ward into Rhy'Din.

The sorceror's next words caught the elf's ears more fully. "My interests here are the wraiths, and Jenia." Xenograg still spoke with the Overlord.

"That is beyond my power at this point," answered Karos.

"And mine." The sorceror was grim.

The Overlord looked perplexed or amused. "Then why let it bother you, conjuror?"

"Because I choose to."

"This arena has weathered far worse plagues. It will weather these passing specters."

"Perhaps." Xenograg's response was clipped. It was clear he held the Overlord in little regard even if he accorded him the respect of his station.

The next part of their dialogue did not relate to the threat of the wraiths, and the elf found his attention drawn away. He focused again on the figure of Jenia, standing alone the ring in which she always appeared. Aelric wondered if it were the selfsame ring in which she had been murdered.

After a time, Jenia seemed to become aware of the elf, and her deathly gaze fell to him rather than Amaltea.

Aelric moved away from Amaltea and Xenograg. Striding carefully through the crowd here to witness the end of the Warlord Tourney, the elf made his way towards Jenia. Perhaps if Shadowblade could free Amaltea, it would also prove useful against Jenia.

The crowd was such that it was difficult to move effectively. The elf's desire was to come upon the woman from the side away from the active duels.

For a moment, the elf thought a chance to strike had come when a duel between Stick and EkthbjIgke ended. Jenia's attention turned away from him and towards the ring where they fought. Her attention was still there when the final tie-breaking duel between Stick and EkthbjIgke started.

But the press and milling of the crowd was too much. The elf did not get his shot, he would have to wait a bit longer, hoping that he would get a chance go strike before she could unleash wraiths upon the crowd of folks in the Arena.

The elf drew in a hiss of surprise when, from the corner of his eye, he finally spotted a wraith. However, instead of circling Jenia, the wraith was circling one of the two duelists in the ring. Aelric almost drew Shadowblade then, but with Stick in the middle of a duel, he knew he would not have a chance to strike out at the wraith without alarming the crowd that watched the duel.

Forced into inaction, the elf split his attention between Jenia and the wraith that circled Stick.

Almost the elf let himself be caught off guard. After standing nearly still for most of the evening, Jenia had shifted. She neared the elf, and Aelric could detect the presence of two wraiths with her. His hand immediately clutched Shadowblade's hilt, pulling it free. The dark blade shimmered into existence.

"I have a surprise for you, creature..." the elf whispered with a grim smile towards Jenia.

With a screech, on of the wraiths that hovered near Jenia raced forward. Reacting without thought, the elf slid forward to engage the wraith. Shadowblade came down in a double-handed slice, cutting through the essence of the wraith. It dispersed with a sizzle of energy, leaving nothing in the wake of the blade.

Confidence was almost his undoing. As the elf turned again to face Jenia, he saw not one remaining wraith, but two. An alarming thought raced through the elf. Was the corpse of Jenia a carrier of some sort? Did she carry wraiths within her, like some form of plague carrier? How many did her body contain? Until this moment, the elf had not considered the possibility of a host carrying more than one wraith.

There was no more time for thought. Both wraiths bolted through the air at him. The elf threw himself to the side. Shadowblade lashed out, slicing through one wraith. Aelric had only narrowly missed the attack of the second wraith.

Distracted by the attack of the wraiths, Aelric missed Jenia turning once more. This time towards the ring where Stick and EkthbjIgke fought.

The third wraith disappeared from view. Aelric could not located it amongst the large crowd of living duelers.

Seeing that both Amaltea and Xenograg had drawn weapons, the elf moved to join them.

A quick glance to the ring where Stick stood revealed no sign of the wraith that had hovered near her. Had it found a victim? Perhaps in her? Perhaps in EkthbjIgke?

The elf focused his attention on watching Jenia as he joined Amaltea and the sorceror.

"Well met, Aelric. I am in your debt for your actions the other night." The sorceror spoke sidewise to him around a drawn bow.

"I am pleased to meet you, sorceror. There is much we should discuss." Aelric kept his eyes on the look out for wraiths as he spoke.

Xenograg's own sorcerous abilities must have given him actute senses, for a moment later the man drew back the arrow he had nocked and pivoted. Aiming nearly straight upward, he loosed an arrow which rocketed towards the ceiling, piercing a wraith as it did so. With a flash of light, both arrow and wraith vanished.

"Got you!" the sorceror declared.

There was little time for celebration however as Amaltea broke in, "where is she going?" She pointed to the ring, where Jenia approached Stick.

Aelric moved forward, Shadowblade at the ready. "You stand opposed this night!" he called out to Jenia.

Jenia held a katana ready in her hands, the blade pointed at Harris and EkthbjIgke as she hovered over Stick.

Stick lay limply in the ring. The elf had not seen what happened to her.

Undeterred by Jenia's presence, Harris moved into the ring to lift Stick free and away, while EkthbjIgke kept the dead woman at sword's point. Jenia did not move to stop them.

Jenia's gaze lay upon Stick for some moments, and then a smile of satisfaction almost seemed to come over her ruined features. Then she stepped from the ring, moving deliberatly towards Aelric, Amaltea and Xenograg.

Beside the elf, Xenograg nocked another arrow. Its point centered on Jenia. Amaltea stood on the other side of the sorceror, her own blade Tarillion held at the ready.

The party of Aelric, Amaltea and Xenograg stood armed and ready to fight Jenia.

A moment later, rather than attack, Jenia vanished from sight! Her sudden disappearance was unexpected and caught them off guard. Unprepared for the wraith that suddenly raced at them from where Jenia had last stood.

The elf threw himself forward, slashing Shadowblade through the air intent upon cleaving the wraith before it could reach Amaltea or Xenograg.

An arrow streaked by as the elf's blade dispersed the wraith.

Sparing not a second, the elf searched about for Jenia. With urgency, Aelric sought for any sign of Jenia's path of retreat. The crowd hindered and obstructed him. "She must be here!" He shouted in frustration.

Behind him, the elf could hear Amaltea. "She's gone.... again..."

It was clear the elf would not be able to find Jenia amongst this crowd, and there was still danger she might spring more wraiths upon them. With no more thought, the elf gripped the edge of his shadowcloak and swirled it around him. Slipping free from the plane of the real and into the plane of Shadow, the elf moved to chase after Jenia in a realm where the physical substance of the crowd would not impede him.

[Aelric Shadowmane]

Despite searching for several hours, the mysterious woman that had once been Jenia had been able to elude him. The elf had slipped into the shadow realm and moved quickly through the area hunting the creature, but to no avail. She had escaped him. The elf's growing belief was that the answer must lie within the Arena itself.

The sorceror, Xenograg, had suggested Jenia's appearances, and consequent disappearances, might be tied to the rift in the Ward of Gondar. When the agents of good had sought to heal the wound in the Ward, by binding the Baron rings into it, Shakira had thwarted them with a device called Mordrahan's Mirror. While the binding ceremony had been completed, and the healing effects of the Ward stabilized, the Mirror had enlarged the rift in the Ward.

Xenograg hypothesized the wraiths plaguing the Arena were coming through the rift in the Ward. Many had believed with the death of Shakira the problems with the Ward would end. Instead, shortly after the event, the corpse of Jenia had begun appearing--apparently in the same ring in which she had been so brutally slain. No one could explain her return, and she herself gave no answers.

What had become clear over time was that when Jenia appeared, so too did the wraiths. After their last battle, the elf had become convinced Jenia had somehow become a vessel for the wraiths. She carried them with her into the Arena. Which made it imperative that she be dealt with.

Their next chance to deal with the threat Jenia posed came only nights later...

The woman who had been Jenia appeared again within the Arena. The wraiths, as always, accompanied Jenia. The sorceror was already there. Those assembled, unaware of what would soon take place, attempted to ignore the presence of the wraiths and Jenia...an attempt that would not last long.

The sorceror, irritated by the presence of the corpse, confronted her. "What do you want, monster?"

Jenia made no verbal answer. Instead, the woman smirked and pointed from Xenograg to one of the wraiths that circled her. She then gestured to the ring itself.

Illusia Drasoini, also present, summoned flames into the form of a blade, and stood ready to assist Xenograg. Her response caused Jenia to pause. Illusia's husband, stood near as well, his own form taking on an aura of flame.

With his allies at his back, Xenograg confronted the corpse again. "Depart, wraith-possessed! Begone!"

Jenia responded by waving him towards the ring once more.

"You think me that foolish?" The contempt in the sorceror's voice was unmistakeable.

Jenia resumed moving towards the sorceror. It was becoming clear she intended to force Xenograg to deal with her.

"Hold!" the sorceror commanded.

Noticing the commotion the Templar, Karen Wilder, joined the sorceror. Together, she and Illusia bracketed the sorceror, ready to face Jenia.

Jenia's response was an evil hiss.

"Begone, I say!" Again Xenograg commanded her, hoping to force her to retreat.

In a moment, Jenia and the wraiths disappeared, leaving nothing in their wake save a loud screech from the wraiths.

The sorceror and his allies were surprised at her disappance, having feared a more difficult confrontation had lain before them. The sorceror's fears were well founded.

Caught off their guard, a veritable swarm of wraiths appeared and poured from the ring in which they hid. The wraiths raced to attack Xenograg and his allies. The sorceror was struck and went down, crying out in pain. Jenia reappeared in the ring, her ruined face twisted in a bizarre parody of laughter, which was accompanied by a supernatural giggling.

Dracos Drasoini, himself a living elemental, screamed as the wraiths entered him. Illusia's blade of flame came forth again ready to face the wraiths' attack.

Jenia moved on the Templar as the wraiths were unable to affect her. The wraiths in turn ignored the Templar and focused their attacks upon the sorceror, Xenograg. The opponent Jenia most hated.

The mortal form of Dracos disappeared in a column of fire, which merged with the figure of Illusia, ensheathing her within an aura of fire. Her blade, Myriad, flashed through the air, fighting off the wraiths. Sparing a moment, she encircled Xenograg with a ring of flames hoping to give the sorceror some respite from the attacks of the wraiths.

Karen hurled an object at Jenia with no apparent effect, while Jenia attacked viciously with her katana intent on moving past her in order to reach the sorceror. Illusia's ring of fire forced the Templar to move away from the heat of the flames.

The knight, Robert, moved from the sidelines to assist Xeno who was fighting to regain his feet, his blade Hiethur slashing out to protect himself from the wraiths. The half-orc, Jake Thrash, also moved into the fray seeking to take up a position near Xenograg. The wraiths, not generally visible to the human eye, presented difficulties for those defenders that could not detect them. Additionally, their mundane weapons proved to be of little use against the insubstantial wraiths. Instead the defenders began focusing their attention upon Jenia. "From the Abyss ye came, an 'ence shall ye go back!" proclaimed Illusia as she advanced upon Jenia with her sword of flame.

Jenia succeeded in closing with Xenograg long enough to slash him with the katana she wielded. Then, from nowhere, the woman commonly called "Stick", launched an attack from behind at Jenia. Her timely attack sent Jenia sprawling to the floor, ending the attack upon Xenograg, but the sorceror fell as well. His arm was bleeding rapidly. "Bitch! Die! Die!" screamed Stick as she fell upon Jenia in a rage.

In the chaos that followed, Robert and Illusia moved to assist Xenograg, while the fire elemental raced to engulf the downed Jenia. Stick, continued an enraged attack, too lost in her fury to respond to the danger of wraiths coming her, or to heed the warning of the Templar. Taking advantage of Jenia's fall, Karen siezed Jenia's katana disarming her.

Before the elemental could reach her, Jenia's corpse vanished, thus also escaping from Stick's relentless attack. Jenia reappeared in her ring. The swarm of wraiths continued to grow in size.

The elf appeared then, stepping from the shadows and moving with alacrity to the side of Xenograg. His weapon, Shadowblade, was free and the elf put it to immediate use carving a swathe through the wraiths. The wraiths, so immune to the effects of mundane weapons, could not ignore the specially enchanted Shadowblade.

Robert, Illusia, and Jake all tended to Xenograg, trying to ensure the sorceror would not bleed to death. The others confronted a growing number of wraiths and Jenia. Aelric moved to join them. "They are under her control, we must force her to leave!"

The Templar took the stolen katana and broke it against a support column with the assistance of Kheldar Drasinia, however her ploy to disarm Jenia was only temporarily effective. The corpse sprinted to one side of the Arena side and recovered another weapon, the famed shirasaya that had belonged to Unagi Miyamoto.

A horde of wraiths surrounded the figure of Jenia, more wraiths than had ever appeared before within the Arena. Re-armed, Jenia launched an attack at Illusia while the wraiths moved to intercept anyone close by.

"Jake, get him the ^@#$ out of here!" called Stick above the noise of the melee. The half-orc, Jake, saw that Xenograg was in no condition to continue the fight and grabbed up the sorceror.

Before he could be carried away, the sorceror looked to the elf "let no one die on my account."

Aelric, who did not spare a glance to Xenograg, answered, "I swear it."

With Xenograg over his shoulder, Jake raced the wounded man out of the Arena. If the sorceror were Jenia's goal this night in that much she had been thwarted.

"We must overwhelm her! Force her to retreat!" cried the elf as he moved upon Jenia, with Shadowblade slashing out freely at wraiths that ventured too close.

Jenia attacked Karen, connecting with the shirasaya. The woman grabbed the weapon, refusing to let go. Stymied for the moment, it began to look as if the tide might have turned. All were moving on Jenia with great resolve. It was then that the black knight appeared.

Arriving in a flash of fire and smoke, a giant figure in black enameled armor moved into the battle swinging a great two-handed sword, clearly set to oppose those fighting against Jenia. The wraiths attacked with renewed vigor.

The elf continued to focus his attention upon the wraiths. His weapons had proved effective against them while many of his allies' weapons had not. While most of the others focused their attention on Jenia and her armored ally, Illusia used her powers in a valiant gambit, dispersing many of the wraiths with mystical fire before she herself collapsed from exhaustion.

Jenia wrenched her sword free from the Templar while striking out with her free hand and Karen fell back, the wound inflicted by Jenia taking its toll. Then Kheldar went down from a powerful swipe from Jenia's blade. Stick moved to intercept the black knight. The black knight's sword cleaved the air and would have cleaved Stick except for a timely block from Robert. As knight met knight in furious engagement, Stick saw that Kheldar had fallen and dashed to his aid.

Wraiths swarmed Stick and the elf, preventing them from reaching Kheldar, while more wraiths swarmed over the fallen man. The black knight's blade powered into Robert sending him across the room. Karen, despite being severely wounded, struggled to assist Robert. As the black knight marched on Robert, the giant blade swinging, Karen tripped him. A thrown dagger from Robert bounced harmlessly off the black knight's armor, but the knight stumbled from Karen's efforts, and his blow fell awry, carving deeply into the floor.

Following Robert's example, and in a wild gamble, Stick threw Xenograg's Ostego blade at the black knight. Only blind chance allowed the improvised missile to slip between two plates of armor. Blood flowed strongly from the miraculous injury. A mass of wraiths moved between Robert and the black knight preventing Robert from taking advantage of the opening presented.

Meanwhile, taking advantage of the respite offered by the black knight, Jenia moved on Aelric. The shirasaya caught the elf by surprise, ripping him around and leaving him open to a surge of wraiths.

It was then, when the fight looked darkest, when the forces of evil had downed many, and appeared ready to win, that Stick's call upon her goddess of peace that the fight's tide changed again. In response to her invoking of the goddess, the staff she wielded burst into white fire. A fire that drove away the wraiths like shadows retreating from light.

Seeing the wraiths being swept away, Stick started to move after Kheldar, but the elf called out. "No, go after Jenia! You must force her to retreat!"

"I can't leave Kheldar infected!" she protested.

"I will deal with Kheldar! That is what I crafted Shadowblade for!" Aelric charged towards Kheldar, with Shadowblade at the ready.

As the elf sped towards Kheldar, Jenia called after him. "Follow me again, you won't return to tell of it!" Before she retreated away from the approaching Stick and then abruptly vanished.

"This is where you die, undead wh-" but Stick's curse remained unfinished as her prey disappeared.

The possessed Kheldar swung at Aelic, but Shadowblade struck first, driving harmlessly past flesh to strike against the wraith itself. The elf followed up immediately, striking again with the blade of shadowforce, ensuring the wraith within Kheldar was destroyed.

Moments after Jenia retreated from the field of battle, the black knight also disappeared, vanishing in a flash of fire and smoke.

That quickly the battle was over.

All that remained were the fallen and a group of tired warriors.

The elf, having heard the final challenge from Jenia, replied even though there was no opponent to hear him. "You will not scare me off so easily, corpse... we will meet again. I promise it."

The victory was a bitter one. Among the wounded were Kheldar, Karen and Xenograg. Among the enemy, none had been truly defeated save some of the seemingly endless supply of wraiths. The best they had managed was to make the forces of evil withdraw. The mood of those who remained was bleak.

The elf refused to be daunted. Perhaps this was not a victory, but so too it was not a loss. Next time, they would have to be better prepared. Thus resolved, the elf pulled his shadowcloak about himself and stepped into the shadow realm to search out Xenograg and see how the sorceror fared once carried from the battle.

[Aelric Shadowmane]

((Another trip into the past to wrap up this part of the story.))

One of the facts that became clear over time was that the woman previously known as Jenia always appeared within the same ring. While her motives remained unclear, her appearances in that ring were consistent.

The sorceror, Xenograg, had surmised that Jenia was using the rift in the Ward to make her sudden appearances and disappearances. Traveling through the rift from some unknown redoubt in order to assail the duelers of the Arena and perhaps to bring across the wraiths themslves.

Searching Rhy'Din had proven useless, save to confirm that Jenia did not hide within its boundaries. Instead, the only chance the elf had to confront the being that called itself Jenia was to maintain a vigil in the Arena. Waiting for her to return when her allies were few, and the elf's allies were many.

~~~

The sorceror arrived and searched the Arena, then commented aloud "I had expected to find Amaltea here."

The woman knight, Karen, answered him. "She just left... I think Onyx followed her out."

Xenograg thanked the woman, and a moment later Amaltea returned, entering from the kitchens. They joined each other with soft greeting amidst the other duelers that occupied the area.

Almost as if summoned by the sorceror's entrance, another woman made her appearance--one that was much less welcome. The corpse of Jenia appeared in her ring, bringing with her a chill breeze and the stench of the grave. Amaltea and Xenograg sensed her presence immediately. Likewise, the corpse's attention was immediately drawn to the sorceror and his wife.

The woman knight also noticed the appearance of Jenia and called out a challenge to Jenia. She claimed to know the corpse's intent. To distract attention away from other things...such as the repair of the rift. Jenia responded to her accusations with no words, only a simple four-fingered gesture, beckoning her to step into her ring. The missing finger had been cut off, along with the Baron's ring Jenia had once carried.

Amaltea whispered quietly to the sorceror, "I think we should give this one more try."

The sorceror looked at her inquisitively.

"Think about it. She's alone."

Xenograg nodded his assent, "true." He kissed her brow and then turned to face Jenia.

Jenia, sensing his attention, faced the sorceror and hissed.

His only response to her implied threat was a gesture of a conjuration. A shield of green appeared even as he drew his weapon.

"You are outnumbered tonight," challenged Amaltea to the corpse.

Karen made a forestalling motion. "She's still got a wraith or two near, count on it."

"That's what he is here for." Amaltea nodded to Xenograg.

Jenia scowled in reply, her katana was at the ready. She beckoned both Amaltea and Karen to her.

Amaltea drew her own sword and marched on the ring. She challenged the corpse, "you are part of what is keeping the rift open!"

Jenia made no verbal answer, but from a brief flicker of darkness near the gaping hole in her chest it was clear the wraiths which always accompanied Jenia were near.

"I don't know how it works, but I am sure that's why you are here. That's why it's always the same ring." Amaltea's march remained unabated. The woman knight joined her.

Karen placed herself between Amaltea and Jenia relying upon her much vaunted immunity to magic to protect her from the wraiths. Perhaps she even believed she could also protect Amaltea from them, but for those that could see their movements it was clear the wraiths ignored her as much as she ignored them. Instead, they began towards Amaltea and Xenograg.

Jenia's attack was sudden and violent. A charge forward, followed by a sweeping attack with the katana aimed squarely for Amaltea. Amaltea parried quickly with her sword Tarillion and dodged to the side, to place Jenia between herself and Karen.

Xenograg moved reflexively towards the side of his wife, but had to abort his rush in order to deal with a swarm of wraiths.

Near the sorceror, Illusia Marcine stepped forward, bringing to life her mystical fire, ready to aid Xenograg against them. Normal fire would have been of as little use against the wraiths as normal weapons had proven, but the magical flames Illusia wielded had proven to have great effect against the wraiths in their previous battle against Jenia. The air was lit up by the sweep of fiery magic burning through wraiths that got too near.

Jenia's attack was unslowed, as she was parried by Amaltea, the katana flashed again this time striking at Karen.

It was then, while Jenia was distracted by Amaltea and Karen, and the wraiths were focused upon Illusia and Xenograg, that Aelric slipped from the concealing shadows. The shadowcloak that had concealed his presence was pushed aside and the elf moved with liquid stealth behind Jenia, his mystical Shadowblade coming free. His attack came without warning, slicing through Jenia's form.

"Quickly! While we have the advantage! We must overcome the corpse!" The elf pulled his silver rapier free and began a violent dual-wielding attack, using the Shadowblade to attack the wraiths that infested Jenia and the enchanted rapier to carve at the flesh of the dead woman. "You shall fall this night, corpse!"

Surprised for only a moment by his abrupt appearance, Amaltea and Karen attacked with renewed vigor. Karen's attack pushed away the katana, leaving Jenia's arm a free target for Amaltea's strike. The arm below the elbow fell away from Jenia, disarming her of the katana.

Their combined assault did not slacken. Before the corpse had time to rally the wraiths to her aid, summoning them away from Xenograg or Illusia, or to call for other allies, such as the black knight that had appeared before, she was overwhelmed by the attacks of the three that encircled her.

With each strike of the Shadowblade, Aelric could sense the maleovolent spirits that held Jenia together weakening. The brutal, triple assault was rapidly carving Jenia's corpse apart. Wraiths fled their host with hurried abandon, seeking to escape the Shadowblade's sting, only to find themselves cleared from the air by the magical attacks of Xenograg and Illusia.

In what seemed like only moments, the battle was over. The corpse of Jenia, paralyzed and overwhelmed, collapsed to the sands of the ring. What was left of the body was a sad ruin of the woman she had been so many months before. Limbs lay hacked off, and parts of her dead flesh lay strewn about the ring.

"She must be destroyed completely. Her body must not be allowed to be a haven for wraiths ever again!" The elf buried Shadowblade into her chest, allowing the shadowmagic to burn out the wraiths which might yet cling to her.

A wash of black poured from Jenia as six final wraiths escaped from Jenia. They flashed by in the space of a heartbeat and fled through the rift in the Ward before any could take action to stop them. These wraiths, the elf sensed, had been more malevolent and more powerful than the other wraiths they had dispatched.

Aelric drew back, watching warily to see if the wraiths would return from the rift, but they did not. Nor did there seem to remain any wraiths within the confines of the Arena. The magics of Illusia and Xenograg had left naught but ash from them.

Xenograg drew forward, warning them all back. As the allies withdrew, bright lightning arced from his fingers, charring the remains of Jenia into nothingness.

When he was sure the menace was ended, Aelric spoke again. "We have won a great victory this night."

"You mean it's not over?" asked Amaltea incredulously.

The elf shook his head. "We must find them all... I had hoped to destroy them all tonight, but it appears we are not yet done." He looked to the rift and then to Xenograg. "Your surmise appears correct, sorceror. The wraiths can move at will through the rift in the Ward."

Aelric looked again to the rift. "To defeat them, we will have to follow... else they may return against us, perhaps in new and more powerful hosts, and with stronger allies."

"We need to heal the Ward, close the rift." Xenograg agreed. "I could follow them. I bear a Baron's ring." The sorceror spoke of a surprising side effect of the binding ritual conducted so many months ago to stabilize the Ward. The rings, now bound into the Ward, could allow the bearer to move through the rift in the Ward.

Amaltea's look of disagreement at Xenograg was quick.

"You are needed here, sorceror. You will be needed to help close the rift." Aelric said as he shook his head. "But I... I could follow." The elf pondered, his eyes gazing into nothingness and beyond.

Xenograg nodded in assent. "You should take a ring. We can ask Chris Graziano for one."

"A two-pronged assault then, sorceror. One here to seal the rift, another to enter the Ward and chase the wraiths down on the other side...wherever that may be." The elf turned back to Amaltea and Xenograg.

With the intent to send word to Chris Graziano in his thoughts, the elf turned back to the room, doing a final inspection of the ashen remains of Jenia. Putting his weapons away, the elf noted the others too glanced about making sure it was really over and had sheathed their own blades.

As the resumed normal activity, Xenograg again approached the elf. "We should discuss this plan, Aelric."

Aelric nodded to him, "agreed."

"Would you accompany us to Dojo Darelir?"

"I would be pleased to do so."

Before he departed, the elf looked about. The woman knight had already departed, but the other, Illusia, still remained. The elf bowed to her. "Thank you for your assistance this night, friend."

Following close behind Xenograg and Amaltea, the elf departed the Arena. A victory had been won, but there were still battle plans to be made. Plans that would entail a journey into the unknown and for an unknown length of time.

~~~

((To be continued in Beyond the Rift.))