The Great Quest

*Mathron, perhaps you had best explain who they are, as you're their creator.*

Slythre smiled coldly, as icy a look as ever Unvar could have given. "If you wish to travel in the same direction as us, so be it. But you cannot believe that one who was once a corsair would hesitate from killing. You have fair warning to stay away from us, unless we are under attack, but you must keep your distance and always stay away outside of arrow range. That should give us enough room to deal with any hostile movement from you and your . . ." she guestured at his warriors, " . . . companions."

*Aetoo joined up with the broodlord and his companions, and was sent to aid them by their master. He has two forms - one, that of a monstrous and powerful bird, and the other as a humanoid being, similar to elves in appearance, save even more beautiful in appearance. Aetoo is rather vain, and unlike the broodlord, seems driven by some measure of whimsy and personal goals. Seetoo is a strange figure that mysteriously joined the companions - he also resembles a gorgeous elf. As well, he has wings instead of arms. His intelligence is seemingly childlike, and he seems to know little of his surroundings.*

The broodlord nodded to Slythre, saying, "You might kill us, but would some of your companionss simply stand by and watch? In any case, we shall remain near - we care little for you and yourss, and only accompany you to sstop Vardor."

With that, he turned, and walked a bit away into the woods, he and his remaining men mere shadows in the gloom, awaiting the companions next moves.

Slythre turned back at the others and Elrov shrugged in response. There was some truth in what the broodlord said, unfortunately. Although Harnauro might stand aside and watch them die, she couldn't count on any of the others to do likewise. But it didn't truly matter, they had agreed to her terms. Sort of.

Harnauro was sniffing the air strangely, and a look of concern was beginning to cover his face.

"Is something wrong, other than the broodlord and his friends?" she asked, stepping nearer.

"The scent . . . something evil is approaching." He pointed his hands, one to the north and one to the west. "There are two of them, coming from that way and that way."

"What are they?"

Harnauro concentrated. "I've never smelled their like before, but I can tell that they are dangerous."

"Then we'd better not remain here like sitting ducks," she said, quickly calling the others together. She glanced over at the broodlord. "It appears that we might need your assistance after all, at least for a little while. If you want to join us until this threat is over, you may do so."

They wordlessly joined them, drawing weapons as they did.

And as well that they did, for at that moment the Nightriders swept out overhead, circling the campsite like grim specters, striking chill into every heart.

Faradin and Harnauro both yanked their bows out, shooting arrows up over the groups heads. The first two arrows swooped up at their target and disappeared from sight. The second flight also sped up, dead on target, and a third.

All the arrows appeared swallowed up in the black nothingness, and the riders continued to circle in silence.

But not for long. One of them suddenly swept downwards, lunging towards them viciously, the second right behind it. Harnauro (In wolf form) leapt at the first one and went flying backwards with a yelp. He landed on his feet but looked up warily. He had received little more than a shock, but it still sent tingles through him.

The group lay low and the creatures swept backwards into the sky. The Nightriders moved in again, barely giving them time to get to their feet.

Swords were drawn this time, and the broodlord leapt forward in the front, swinging his sword and cleaving into the first creature.

Instantly both broke off, the hit one giving a shriek that echoed over the hills. It quivered silently on its steed, every now and then small spurts of magic spitting from it to curl around itself and disappear. A little bit later this disappeared too, and they hovered momentarily.

Then Harnauro realized what they were doing. They were simply testing them, probing to see how capable they were and what kind of a fight they would put up when they gave their real attack.

"Run! We have no chance now, run!"

And they ran, their attackers suddenly lunging in pursuit, moving with terrifying speed and sweeping downwards. The trees offered a little protection, and soon the Nightriders were forced to move up over them instead of dodging in and out among them.

A moment later, a giant shadow leapt from among the trees and crashed into one of the Nightriders, throwing it off course and they went spinning off into the trees, locked in combat and tearing viciously.

Aetoo doing his work. That means one less on our backs, and with luck, I'll be able to take him, the broodlord thought grimly. He never liked having to rely on luck, but he was unsure how well either he or Aetoo would survive without much protection from their warding stones.

Then the Nightrider was among them. It crashed through the branches and leaves like a thunderbolt, splintering them as he came, slashing in every direction. A beam of blue fire flashed out from him, burning the hair off his back and singing him badly, but luckily causing him no other harm.

A claw whipping out was severed by Gungar's axe, but a clean blow from another sliced his chest open. He fell back, but his ragged groans showed that he still lived yet. One of the broodlord's troops was hit next, a wound carved across his side even as he dug into one of the mount's two wings.

Then the broodlord moved in, cutting the wing off. The creature gave a shriek and rolled over on its side, throwing its dark rider. Another blow severed its head, and the broodlord was up again, his sword spinning in his hand as he prepared to feed it again.

The Nightrider picked itself up smoothly from the blood dampened ground and then struck, a beam of blue energy striking and deflecting neatly into its owner. It screamed as a spiderweb of energy formed around it, cutting it with burning edges as it closed and disappeared.

But the broodlord gave it no time to revive. He jumped forward and stabbed, piercing its chest and thrusting its skewered body back against a rock.

The sword shriveled up in flame and shattered, the pieces falling smoking on the grass as the shadow dissipated and the Nightrider died.

Farther away, the other Nightrider lifted up into the sky, circling spiraling upwards as it stared down at the company regrouping from the attack. Wounds covered the Nightrider's steed, and his own body was rather torn as well. Not that he noticed such things unless he thought about them. The creature had fought fiercly, especially in the beginning. Although it had gotten away, unless it healed far better than even a Nrake, it would be a long time before it could fly again. He himself was rather shaken at the ferocity of the attack, especially considering that it was a non-magic being.

But the next move would have to wait until the next night. And then Dania would be his. The Nrakes hadn't been wrong about their position, however inferior their fighting skills, their tracking abilities were now impossible to question.

Tomorrow night, this would be ended.

Ulrog looked in suprise at the dead nightrider. He had heard rumours of these strange servants of Vardor, but had never expected to see one killed. Their scent was greatly distressing and, as Ulrog had just discovered, even worse after they had died. These mercenaries were clearly even stronger than he had first thought. With enemies like these, things weren't looking good for his old master.
Ulrog had considered escaping in the confusion of the attack, but had thought better of it when he had caught the scent of the surviving nightrider on the wind. It was still in flight, and would easily be able to pick him off if he split from the main group. For the time being, there was definetly safety in numbers.

Some miles away from the group, a figure huddled on the forest floor, wrapping its arms around itself and shaking its body, low moans arising from it every few minutes.

A thousand thoughts flitted through its crumpled, bleeding form, thoughts of pain and of the future. Aetoo had never felt such pain, such agony - had never in his life been bested or so injured. It hadn't been that the being was stronger or faster than he was... it was that the beings very substance was anathema to Aetoo. As his surely was to it. It was a creature of the times of magic and darkness... he was the product of the growing future...

Words hissed out between its lips, low and harsh, a far cry from its melodious voice before. "Your time is passing, whatever ye may be..." As he spoke, tears from the pain traced paths down his cheeks. "Your age shall soon be over. Magic shall be lost... Father has seen even the greatest of you left here, hurled down... and those remaining, depart... It will be our age, then, our time of triumph... Your time is done.... and we shall reign!" His voice raised up at the end, a cracked cry into the night, as the creature curled up again, rocking itself in agony.

Aetoo had never been so hurt before - his heart had been pierced, and a large hole remained where his lower left torso had been... blood leaked out, and his wounds gaped, more than a normal man could have survived for even minutes with. Aetoo had never been so hurt before - it would take nearly a day for him to heal...

Vardor looked down at his feet. One of the Nightriders gone. Not exactly dead, but lost and dwindled in strength and being. It would be very difficult to find and build back up to its former strength. Perhaps not worth the effort at this point. He still had one more, and the Nrakes. That group should be enough to finish them, especially if they had indeed lost all of their magic. Then they would be no difficulty whatsoever.

The key would fit into the lock, the door opened, and darkness would swamp the world such as never had been seen before since Beleriand.

Dania huddled low in the thicket, unsure of what exactly had happened back there. Everything came up so quickly, she'd hardly managed to locate thier attacker before she'd heard the order to run. Run she did, and now wasn't entirely sure where everyone else was...

Harnauro circled around the woods twice more, to make sure that the attack was truly left off. It was, he assured himself, but not for long. They were still two days from safety, and the being would likely strike when darkness came again, or when the sky was at its darkest, upon midnight.

With a low growl, he quickly set out, planning to round up the others before dawn. The first he found easily, by the long trail of blood - Gungar, lying by the side of Narsh, who was treating his injury. Harnauro appeared by their side, in human form, and said in a low rumble, "We have little time. Do what you can, then hurry out and carry him along." One look at Gungar's pale face showed the dwarf would not be any help in a fight, or along the way.

He quickly left them behind, moving in search of the others, and hoping the task would not take long.

There were still two hours left before dawn by the time the group had finished regathering. But they also decided to get a little bit of sleep, Gungar and one of the broodlord's men were still severely wounded and it would be better to at least give them a little rest before continuing. The rest were also tired from their fight and sleepless night, although adrenaline was still high.

*Sorry for not sending a more interesting post; perhaps I will later.*

*Hope my concept of the Nightriders fits to how you imagine them.*

As the day passed by, silence ran over the path of the party. Whatever they had faced the night before had been beyond their strength, and beyond the experiences of nearly all of them.

Harnauro moved along, near the front of the group, worrisome thoughts in his mind. He recognized the beings that had attacked them, or at least their kind - ancient and powerful beings, not quite fallen Maia, as Balrogs where, but rather beings similar to Maia whose very nature was already to be of the nothingness left in the wake of Eru's song. Dangerous, always, and there had been two of them.

More worrying, though, was that one had been felled, or bested. The broodlord now moved along closer to the group - after saving them, they felt more indebted to him - and whenever Harnauro glanced at him, he could read nothing of his emotions. Yet now Harnauro understood, somewhat more, the peculiar taste their scent had. An utter lack of magic.

All creatures were touched by magic. Elves radiated it, dwarves were clothed by the solid magic of the earth, and even humans were touched by it. But these beings, the broodlord and his men - were utterly out of sync with it. Now that Harnauro saw it, it was completely apparent. The very fabric of the land around them seemed to scream in anger at them.

And the blade the broodlord had wielded, that had struck down the Nightrider... it had been even greater. It wasn't merely the absence of magic, but nearly its opposite... it had fed off of magic around it, creating a black hole for those able to see such things. Should they actually reach Lothlorien, these creatures must never be allowed within... their very presence could tear that kingdom apart.

Of course, Harnauro thought with a bitter laugh inside, he himself must not enter the kingdom for similar reasons. But he would deal with that when they got there. Though he was not a match for a Nightrider, he could stand a chance at holding it off long enough for others to escape. And if it did kill him... perhaps he would welcome that.

A sigh nearly escaped him, but he stalked on, through the woods. Looking up, he saw the sun was beginning its descent. A few more hours, and it would be night. And, in all likelihood, they would have to fend off another assault.

*Yes, that concept is pretty close to what I envisioned. By the way, sorry for not keeping this up at a very great speed like I was earlier, and it is likely to keep up at not that great of a speed for a while, although I will still be posting here. The computer I usually work on has been breaking down regularly and its connection to Remote Access has been severed for the time being. I've got a story I'm writing and a person I'm doing a VERY regular email correspondance with, and Dad likes to use this computer a lot, so as you can see, I won't have much time.*

One of the Nrakes looked up at the glaring sun, testing the scent again. Still quite close. No more than a mile away. When nighfall came, they would make their second attempt.

Where the Nightrider retreated to to spend the night was beyond their imagining, but he would be there also, directly according to their previous plan and probably directly on time as well. Incredible how fast those creatures could move.

*Sorry for not sending a more interesting post; I'm a little bit at a loss until nightfall.*

*No problem - I think going at a slower pace a good idea, in any case, and might lure more people.*

*I'll pick the speed up again when I'm done with my book. If this RPG isn't ended by then, that is. Of course after this one, we'll most likely start another, so I guess whether or not it is finished doesn't make much difference.*

"My lord, we've found it!" shouted a man as he dashed into Vardor's apartments.

Shadows darted around him, slashing him across the back in three places before releasing his body and dropping it to the ground.

"Such behavior will not be tolerated, and you will get a worse punishment if you do it again," came Vardor's cold voice. "Now what is it you have found?"

The body on the ground whimpered slightly as it got up, but the pain was beginning to fade, unlike the memory of it. "We found the clasp, just as you asked us too. It was indeed among the eagles, and if it hadn't been for your secret alliance, we would never have known of its existance."

Vardor breathed in sharply. "At last. In that case all we need is Dania, and the key."

He raised a hand and dismissed the guard, who staggered out.

Everything was going according to plan, and they actually had had some success in one area. They still hadn't gained the clasp, and it would be very difficult, as well as dangerous. It was a very powerful magical item, and it surely was well guarded. If the Valar had left a Maia . . . well, there was nothing he could do about it with the information he had now. At least he knew it was there. Perhaps when his other Nightrider returned, they would have enough strength to deal with whatever guarded there.

Secrecy and brute strength were two things the Valar had left to guard against what he was doing now. The secrecy had failed, and the brute strength was possible to overcome.

He looked up at the sky. Tonight was one of the key moments, and he waited for it with both anticipation and . . . was it fear?

Dania slept lightly, as was her wont during wary times, and uneasily, which was not usual. A subconsious nagging continued to speak to her, ever since agreeing to allow the others to travel with them. A coldness rested at the back of her mind, something that seemed glaringly obvious, but overlooked all the same. As the night deepened, troubled dreams o'er took her.

*This post has been edited. I wasn't particularly pleased at having to delete so much of the beginning of it, but it is now done. This battle is now officially linked.*

Shadow and darkness and flames burned through the minds of the party, as they let their wounded and tired rest, and the rest stood at a wary watch. Fears and worries surrounded them like thick mud, slowing their movement and their thoughts.

Slythre sidled near to Harnauro. "Can you sense anything?"

"Not yet. But I think we were watched through the last few hours of the day. It will not be long now, but I don't sense anything." This last line was coated with frustration - Harnauro did not like being caught unawares.

Meanwhile, Faradin rested with his back against a hard oak tree, bow in hand, speaking softly with Narsh. "You have known Dania for ages, have you not, friend? Do you know aught of why you two were taken?"

Narsh shook his head. They had been over this before. His voice rumbled out, soft and low. "No. I could tell they were concerned with her, not I, but more than that, I know not."

Faradin nodded, sighing, but his breath froze in his throat as a dark shadow flitted through the night. He resumed breathing normally, but whispered out of his mouth, "They are here, prepare."

As Narsh's hand slipped down to his weapon, Faradin sprang up, releasing a powerful arrow shot as he did. He heard a cry among the trees, as one of the silhouettes he had glimpsed staggered, and then the Nrakes burst forth from all about them, encircling the camp.

Harnauro shot towards them, form blurring into that of something furred and fanged, and his own claws met theirs, and won through, slashing one down in the first moments of the fight, even as the rest were entering into action.

Slythre lashed as many spare daggers as she could through the air, catching one Nrake in a shoulder, another through the leg, before she was forced to draw her sword and defend up close.

Faradin, as well, let loose as much as he could at range, before the Nrakes closed the distance and he and Narsh were fighting, side to side, against a group of them. Another Nrake bounded towards him, but met with a sword in midair, as the wounded obsidian armored warrior burst from the ground, knocking back the Nrake, though falling himself.

Of the rest of that company, the broodlord and his two remaining unwounded fought against a circle of foes, in a line that kept retreating towards the center of the campsite, their skill all going into fending off attacks, and they were unable to get any in themselves.

The rest of the party woke to see the fighting, and quickly grabbed bows and weapons. A Nrake dodged towards three small forms, Gungar, Ulrog, and Seetoo. The goblin shrieked and ducked down, scurrying towards safety, while Gungar tryed to lift his axe, but dropped it in his weak state. The Nrake, expecting an easy kill, was altogether surprised when the small birdlike creature jumped forward with blinding speed and snapped its neck.

As Harnauro tore another one aside, and Faradin found himself seperated from Narsh in the melee, the true danger arrived.

---

The Nightrider surveyed the battle, its senses not so much seeing images as stealing them into itself. Its head slowly turned, and though it never knew pleasure or joy, it took a deep sense of accomplishment in that the battle already went well. The one who had drawn it from the oblivion would be pleased, if all went according to plan. And the longer he was pleased, the longer the Nightrider could stay in this world, and feed off of the sights and sounds and delicious essences it offered.

An eyeless void of a face looked down, glimpsing a wolf tearing through some of the beings in its surface, and with a thought, its steed hurtled downward, into the fight. As it closed, however, arrows from those who had just risen, at the center of the group, slammed into its steeds face, which seemed to suddenly sprout barbs of wood. If the Nightrider had been capable of such thing, it would have felt anger towards the living forms that now trained bows on his form. It did not have the ability, though, nor the time, for a moment later its steed, somehow still alive, if blinded, slammed into a tree, shattering the solid oak and sliding to the ground in a crumpled heap.

The Nightrider rose from the pile, ignoring the arrows that vanished within him, mearly sustaining his hunger longer. Instead, he leapt towards the wolf, which still radiated of another's force, and was the greater threat.

The being turned, and the Nightrider would have smiled if it could, for it could see the beast clearly, as it was fully wolf in both mortal and immortal planes. Its claw slashed at him, but the Nightrider stole from time itself, and easily caught the claw and twisted, feeling an immortal scream echo into its own form. Not hearing, however, for the Nightrider knew only silence as it hurled the wolf backwards.

Despite the broken arm, the wolf limped up again, eyes flashing red, and preparing to leap upon the Nightrider itself. The lizard behind it disabused it of that notion, with a swipe that the wolf barely avoided. The Nightrider saw a form leap up at him from behind, and lashed out, letting some its stolen force back into the world, and blue light sheared through the side of the creatures neck, dropping it instantly.

A blur slammed into the Nightrider, somehow finding solid holds upon it and hurling it a dozen feet from the fight, and into a tree, which groaned under the impact.

The Nightrider rose, disturbed by being surprised, and then was able to make out the form of its attackers. The bird from the other night. Once again, the Nightrider had to deal with this thing he could barely see, so far from the realm he was part of. And, despite having been nearly reduced to death, it was now back again, seemingly unharmed. With an inaudible howl, the Nightrider turned to face its foe.

---

Aetoo stared into the pulsating void that had so injured him. He was not unharmed, in fact, and his arms both still flared with pain - but he had risen far from deaths door, his enhanced systems healing him quickly. Now he was ready to fight again.

The darkness jumped at him, and Aetoo pushed metabolic systems into overdrive, dodging its grip and snapping it backward with a blow of his own. The thing felt like almost solid flesh to him, yet he had seen other things go into it. Although flesh could not describe the cold and smooth surface he felt when he hit it. He had no more time for such thoughts, for it was up again, moving as though it owned time itself, and Aetoo pushed himself to the limits avoiding its strike.

---

Elrov watched the personal battle in shock. Narsh lay on the ground a few feet a way, blood all over him. He lay there, obviously in agony, but his twitching showed he was still alive. But that spectacle was as nothing to the one unfounding in the woods outside of the battle.

Both beings seemed to move with unnatural speed, speed so fast he couldn't follow their strikes and parries. Good and evil lost meaning as he watched their dance, back and forth, two gods at war.

---

The Nightrider was beginning to feel emotions. It could not recognize them, but it felt... uncertainty. Worry. It faced the unknown. The bird struck at it again, slamming it backwards, but for all its strength and speed, its strikes were little more than bee-stings to the Nightrider, while his flayed the very skin from its bones.

A burst of blue light flashed, and like all the other strikes, the bird dodged from it - but right into the path of more pulsating energy, which staggered him backwards.

The opportunity having come, and the Nightrider struck, snapping hands up and catching both of the birds wrists in his hands. Staring into its face with emotionless flames, its clenched its hands, feeling wrists shatter and bones pop.

A kick from the creatures foot slammed the Nightriders own forms backwards and broke his grip. Nevertheless, he stood back up unharmed, while his foe shuddered in pain.

---

We are above pain. Aetoo recalled the words and the mantra, and banished the agony. Looking upwards, it saw the Nightrider staring at it with triumph, though no expression would ever have conveyed such a thing.

Suddenly, Aetoo began to laugh, as they circled each other.

"You can't win!" He whispered, his words surely falling only on the foe, or only on himself. "You've lost already."

Breaths fell between his sentences, as the interminable circling continued, but he kept speaking. "Your time is over." Pain, ignore it. "We come into our own."

The Nightrider gave no indication of hearing, darting at him and rolling aside from his attack back. "You are nothing!"

With a flash, words came to Aetoo, the teachings of his father, though he had never taken them seriously before. he knew now what to say, and what to do.

"You are the echo's between the notes in Eru's song."
"You came before even the notes themselves."
"But even the notes are fading now, and you should have passed long ago."
"Another song is rising."
"And not one sung by Eru."
"A song sung by mortals themselves... written by mortals..."
"I am the song that ends you."
"I drown you out, I fill you."
"You are emptiness, and I am form."

The Nightrider sprang darting again toward Aetoo as it had already countless times before. Its grasp reached for the wounded creature, which suddenly wasn't there, vanishing into the woods, falling back from a battle it couldn't win. Dissatisfied, but resolute, the Nightrider turned back to the battle.

---

Elrov watched in awe and wonder, somehow following the last moves of the fight, the fight that had taken mere seconds as the battle around Elrov continued to rage. But as he watched the white, pale skinned creature dart away from the abyssal nightmare, he shook his head, realizing a battle needed to be fought. The dark creature met his gaze, and as he scrabbled for his weapon, he felt its dark mind sapping his will and catching his eyes.

As the Nightrider turned towards Elrov, he shook himself from his stupor - though, in truth, he had only watched the fight for seconds - and stumbled backwards, away from the Nightrider.

A form blurred through the air, as Harnauro broke from his foes and crashed into the Nightrider, bowling him backwards into the woods.

As Elrov heard Ayna scream behind him, he spun about, blade ready.

How did I know that would happen??
Erg.. well, you got your post in first, Lief... want me to kill mine?
Sigh, spent a bunch of time on mine.. could we tie them together? Have your wrap it up, with them capturing Ayna?
(Ironically, in both of our posts, Elrov got taken out with a blow to the head from behind, and Narsh fell casualty...)

*By the way, Elrov is SEVERELY wounded. As in . . . skull broken and near death. But still capable of getting out a few last words.*

The battle raged, the men appearing to be even better trained then their adversaries. However, it was soon apparent that they were using a coordinated strategy, and a group of eight Nrakes soon managed to slide through the warriors and the odd birdlike creature, moving with silky deadliness in on their real target.

Dania hurtled her dagger through the air, hearing a satisying crunch as it slid through one of the Nrakes' chest. Slythre didn't throw, she moved in the way for hand to hand combat, matching the Nrake for skill and nearly matching it in combat ability, but the fact that her weapon was only about a fourth as long hindered her greatly, and she was pressed back.

Elrov dashed in, blocking their path and separating out with two more against him. The two Nrakes pressed Elrov back and away from the main part of the battle, which left four more for the unarmed trio, Ayna, Dania and Gungar to deal with.

The Nrakes were already lunging, and Ayna barely had time to scream before one of them was on her.

Dania was stunned as they simply passed her up, ignoring their target, and disabled the other woman, pushing her back into the darkness.

Elrov had already sliced the arm off of one of his two opponents, and was just about to deal with the other when he heard Ayna's cries. He instantly dropped his fight with that Nrake, leaping past it and after the ones targeting Ayna.

Two turned around and drew their weapons, the others backing off into the darkness. Elrov plunged forward, ignoring his own safety utterly as he simply struggled to get past them and to Ayna. One slashed him across the side and swerved away, but the other barred his way. That one, Elrov stabbed clean through, all the way up to the hilt of his weapon. Leaving him incapable of blocking the blow from behind as it caught him in the head, throwing him aside onto the grass.

The Nrakes vanished into the night, and Ayna had gone silent.

Shortly after, the battle was over. The dead bodies of at least a dozen Nrakes lay on the ground, and the enemy were fleeing in retreat. The Nightrider was also gone, and Narsh's body had disappeared as well. But considering some of the blasts from blue fire which had been thrown in the area he had last been seen, there was little chance that he was still alive.

In the sky, three dark shapes lifted off from the ground and disappeared into the night.

"Those would be the fleeing enemies," Faradin muttered as he wiped his blade.




Narsh was looking at a hole of blackness, darker than night and seeming to suck even light into its depths. Strength had long since left his arms and legs, even though they were unbound. The icy fingers were strong as steel and cold as death, having sucked all warmth from his body long ago. How long ago? Hours ago? Days? But that wasn't possible. It must have been about fifteen minutes. The arm of the Nightrider never tired, never even flinched in fatigue at having held the full grown elf in the air, by the neck, for that amount of time. Never changing hands, never holding on too tight. The killing squeeze could come at any moment, but frankly Narsh didn't care anymore. Nothing mattered, and nothing was. The hole into emptiness was in the vague figure of a man, although Narsh had stopped realizing that hours ago. Or was it days? He was being foolish, although he was beginning to forget even that. He was not able to think, not able to act, and not able to even be. Self was draining, and the blackness seemed to be even attempting to take him into it, the more he looked into those depths.

"You have taken the girl?" came a voice, sharp and icy cold, a shock to Narsh's numbed senses.

The beating of wings was faintly heard over the . . . what was it? His elvish ears should be able to hear better than this! Or was it simply that they had been blinded as well as the rest of his sinking body. Sinking into that dark pit . . .

"We have her right here," came the responding voice, cracking across Narsh's bewildered senses once again with harsh ferocity.

If only he could sink into the welcoming embrace of death. If only they would be quiet so he could be still, so that he might be able to lose some of this sense of evil. And the overwhelming darkness . . .

"It was a fight, but it is ended now. They killed four of our number, but the great bats were on schedule, and when we escaped we were able to reach . . ."

Narsh clung back onto life, and his eyes opened slightly, a tinge of pain felt through him now, peircing the endless cold. But any relief was welcome, and he felt now a burning sensation in his entire body, his fingers, his chest, legs, everything was beginning to feel a burning pain.

Through his eyes, he could now faintly see three great shapes, ridden by creatures hidden in the darkness. Another figure was slumped over the back of one of the mounts, which appeared to be in the shape of a gigantic bat.

"You have done well," the voice knived across consciousness, bringing back the cold, quenching his feeling, his nerves, his very being dropping away into it.

"You have done well . . . well . . . well . . ." the words echoed across the void of darkness that had formed in his mind.

*Hmmm, we do appear to have a bit of a problem. I had a bad feeling something like this would happen. You usually end up posting about two or three hours after my post comes, so I saw that I was right on top of your normal time.

All right, we can go with both. Although I think that will take a bit of editing on both of our parts. Particularly yours, if my Nightrider is going to survive like it does in my second post, which was also sent before I saw yours. So, shall we come up with a satisfactory battle storyline? Perhaps we should have this discussion in the discussion forum.

I was going to kill Narsh, but decided against it. Hence the second post. And I felt like writing something like that at the time. It was fun. Although I'm not sure that is a very warmhearted sentiment to feel when it means such an unpleasant time for poor Narsh.

I thought it would be nicer to have a happy reunion between him and Dania later on, then her mourning his death through the remainder of the story. Up to the end, of course, when she'd start to get over it. That's how stories often go, when they have a tragic death like that. Unless it's a series, that is. In series of books they get over it a lot quicker.

But it is ironic how that happened, indeed. Both of us writing the same thing happening to the same people in the same way. Is it that we are similar in writing styles in some way, or that those particular things happening to those particular characters is only natural? Perhaps there are elements of both.*