THE THIRD SWORD




Just as the three companions had reached the hut from the desert sand, it suddenly encircled a wall of blue fire.


- The three dived down the embankment and rolled screaming into the grass. Less than ten meters behind them, a band of bloodthirsty shadow creatures chased and tried to catch them. They were all sweating profusely and Gisildur came running towards them from the inn, tossed each of them a healing potion, a transparent bottle with red liquid, which was closed with a cork. It did not miss the effect and Isribu's wounds and those of the others closed quickly. Ready to fight, the warriors drew their swords and waited for the enemy who might be approaching, but just as the latter was about to jump over the grove, a wall of blue fire shot out of the ground and enveloped the hut. -


Panting, Warior reached the end of the swamp feast and allowed himself a minute's break.

- Panting, he leaned against a rotten tree trunk that was hung with moss and algae and held his stomach. He had a serious stitch and his head was booming. The only thing that was on his mind was that he had to get to his friends as quickly as possible. He took a strong drag from the bottle on his belt and moistened his dry throat. Here the rain had subsided a little and further ahead he recognized the sky under the stars had opened completely. Suddenly from there a pillar of fire of blue flames shot up like lightning and bathed the forest in bluish light that was reflected on the leaves. -


Sam Halkman climbed up to the farmer's castle towered above and had a rope tied around his shoulder, at the end of which were the food supplies he was supposed to bring.


- The rope was very long and the trolls, orcs, gnomes and shadow beings began to nibble on the supplies.At the top he would be able to tie the rope around a pillar and, thanks to his men, pull the load up. The frantic and cruel cries of the beings who were to guard and besiege the fortress rang out to his ears even from so far below. He was old, but still fit enough to climb the mountain with one arm. He even had a prosthesis, a hook, attached to his injured arm so that he could hang it between the rocks. He stared up with weathered features and looked for his people with helping eyes. Torches had already been lit up there and these illuminated the hustle and bustle that the pirate could now see. Stone by stone he pulled himself higher and so came closer and closer to his goal. -


Savamir had chatted with the old lady for a few minutes and then finally discovered that she wasn't a witch, just a woman who knew how to use black magic.


- The conversation was long, intense and showed that the two of them were very pleased with each other.When they had finished speaking, the old woman went to a small desk in the middle of the room, on which was a book bound in black leather, and felt around at the wood. She opened the book carefully because the pages were sharp and had a gold border. Strange marks written in faded ink stared at her and she read the book as if she had been able to do this for several years. Finally she turned to a site near the middle and beckoned Savamir over with a conspiratorial expression. He got up from the high-backed chair and approached her. The page in the book showed a yellowed parchment map with fine lines indicating the shapes for mountains and lakes. The Hades rock was also marked on it, Savamir could see that. The rock had the distinctive shape of a skull with sharp, long teeth and behind it the fine skeleton of the soaring Do Morro Mountains. The old woman began quietly to tell the story of the peoples and at the end only said that Muragecht could hide in any part of the country and that one should go to all other areas first, because an attack on the Hades rocks is simply too dangerous. -

Again the shadow beings attacked the two mighty castles of the people in the south of the desert and this time the situation seemed hopeless for the lords of the castles.




VERSE 3: THE STRANGE GUY


The orcs that were still in the leap crumbled to dust in the bluish flickering flames and the rest of the abnormal beings gathered around the column with silent steps, but growled and barked so loudly that you can even hear it over the roar of the flames could.


"Who...?" Badenius stuttered and as if from one blow to the other the boldness had faded from his gaze and the sweat of fear made itself felt again. Carefully he pulled the silver-white blade, shimmering in the moonlight, out of its scabbard and took a step towards the hut through the soft moss. There were still clear traces in the wet earth from the carts at noon and Isribus finally remembered:


"Where are Savamir and Warior?"

“I have no idea,” explained Gisildur and only now noticed her mistake, “when I woke up they were no longer there and when I saw you, wounded and disheveled, I jumped into the house and got healing potions! Not seen others! "Startled, everyone turned around, because a gnome had just thrown himself into the flames and had burned up with a hiss.


"The critters are really annoying!" Badenius shouted, breathing a little, and anxiously clutched the hilt of the sword with both hands.


"Watch out!" shouted Gisildur, pressing Isribus' head down, for an arrow with a blackened blade had penetrated the conflagration and only crumbled into smoldering dust a few centimeters after his head.


"They can break through with speed for a few seconds!" A deep voice sounded behind the hut and a man with a black hooded cloak stepped out of the shadow that was almost everywhere but dark. His face was still covered with the darkness that opened up under the deep indentations, and when he raised his head, the brothers and friends froze as if to stone."I am Senragor, the guardian of the once holy sword!"


"If you are an enemy we will fight to our last breath!" said Isribus, puffing the air sharply through his nose, drew his weapon and went into a fighting stance, almost furious.


"But, but, who is going to be so angry ...!" soothed in the dark and at this remark Gisildur froze a second meal:


"Put the morning star aside, friend, this is the only descendant of Sendinior!"


"How do you know that snorted!" Isribus snorted, still holding the gun tightly in hand.


"Exactly how do you want to know?" Senragor prodded and literally played with the fire, "I might as well be a common servant of Muragecht 's as, for example, the face-changer, or the dead!" He paused, "I love careful people I can't let it burn forever, so trust me! ”With that, he bent down, reached into the dust and picked up a handful of it.While he was straightening up, he hurled the fine sand against the fire, which immediately disappeared into nothing. At first the gnomes and the others just looked puzzled, but then they waved their weapons over their heads and stormed towards the companions. At the same moment as they had reached the wall, it flared up again quickly and the raging enemies vanished back into the air. The friends were still breathing heavily and did not understand some things.


"What should we do?" Isribus asked, spitting and trying to suppress his lingering anger. Senragor looked up and the companions shrank back at the sight of the dead eyes.


“You should help me to regain my sword in my own way and leave it to me instead of your king!” The druid, the wizards of a secret circle were called, was a tall man with pale, furrowed features and a beard, which was his Mouth played around. He had dark, medium-length hair and bright green, darkened eyes, which explored everything from deep eye sockets.

"No way!" roared Savamir. The magician's face, which was amused at first, worsened, he raised his big hand, twitched his fingers and after a pressing noise the wall disintegrated into tiny, little sparks, which glowingly rained down on the earth.


"It's just a trick!" Isribus assured the others, but was not really convinced of it himself and therefore seemed slightly unsettled. The confused shadowy beings first held their hand in the air, to the places where the blue fire had licked a few seconds ago, and waved through the air, groping and with a shocking look. When their bodies did not turn to ashes, they ran screaming at their opponents again, waving their brittle swords and flapping their lank hair. The first attack was dominated by the black beings, but the bitterly fighting companions tore their blades through their bodies and so divided the first attack wave, but the eternal supply of enemies choked them off and they now fought back to back against the staggering trolls, gnomes and walking corpses.Suddenly Senragor cut in and swung his arm with splayed fingers. Blue flames licked from his fingertips and drew a shock wave of blue light onto the enemy, which immediately after this attack turned into sparsely skinned skeletons and then into flying, swirling grains of dust. A light smoke rose from the crumbled cadavers and for a while the rush of enemies dried up.


"Do you believe me now!" his eyes seemed honest for the moment, but then switched back to the usual, light mockery, but not on her, but on her weak physical talents.


"Maybe ..." Isribus muttered and stroked her sweaty hair.


"We don't have time to argue!" Badenius suddenly declared in a firm voice, his weapon wasn't even a bit stained with blood, and stepped next to the druid, "I trust I am going with him!" The wizard grinned broadly, but Isribus seemed slightly horrified:

"Badenius? You?" He was used to the young, dark-haired guy being more reserved and cautious, but he apparently liked the sudden change of heart, but nevertheless he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned his head back slightly, " But you won't