Elysia shuddered. She had recognized the green-robed ratfolk at the last moment before the crowd trampled him. He was the Scourge priest of the graveyard, and she was glad he was dead.
She was hot, sweaty from exertion and the heat from the burning buildings around her. She tried to ignore the screams of those who had been trapped inside her to concentrate on taking revenge against those responsible for that. From some distant place she heard a tremendous crash, and a plume of sparks shot up into the sky as a tenement house collapsed. Elysia knew that if there were any survivors after this attack, they would have plenty of work to rebuild the city.
They reached the slopes that surrounded the palace, and Elysia realized that many of the buildings in that area were intact. They were like small fortresses as well as mansions. Ahead of them was a detachment of armed men clad in the tabards of the city guards. Their halberds were raised to repel the onslaught, but they were lowered, confused, to see that the crowd was humans and not wererats.
"Ratfolks!" the poet shouted. "There are ratfolks in the palace!"
She didn't know if the captain of the guard believed her or not, but she didn't have much choice. If her men stood there much longer, they would have to use their weapons against their fellow citizens or they would be trampled. The captain made a quick decision: he barked an order and his men moved away. Elysia saw that the palace gates were still open. They must have been left like this to allow the carriages of the guests to enter, she thought.
She continued to run as she prayed that they would arrive in time to save Emilia, the daughter of Duke Emmanuel.
♦ ♦ ♦
Niccolev directed his gaze towards the source of the scream. Suddenly the balcony was swarming with huge ratfolks clad in black armor. Immediately, he realized that these were not disguises, but something real: monstrous anthropomorphic rats the size of a human, armed with scimitars and round shields etched with the seal of their evil god.
He saw a few guards, elite troops surely, move forward to interpose themselves between the guests and the ratfolk, but they were quickly cut down as the disciplined phalanx descended the stairs and reached the ballroom. Slowly the orchestra stopped playing, the notes dying in discordant echoes. The costumed guests were herded, shouting, to the great throne dais by huge, fang-baring ratmen.
Niccolev wondered if he should take action against the ratfolks, but he decided against it; He then perceived the presence of a terrible magical energy and, looking up, he saw that a huge gray-furred ratman descended the stairs. He looked like a villain who had come to bring death to all of humanity.
Niccolev knew it, that ratman had the same level as him, he was an individual at the level of a hero, he was a level 10 being.
Even if he fought without holding back, she couldn't win. Niccolev was not a tank or a front line individual; she was a support specialized in strengthening her companions with combat drugs and weakening her enemies with fast-acting diseases and poisons; although she did possess some offensive capabilities, they were solely for her personal defense.
If only someone of the level of a general, someone like Frey, were here; things could be different.
♦ ♦ ♦
Dhalthar stalked through the corpses of the humans. At last, from up ahead, she was reaching him with a gratifying amount of screaming. Apparently her elite warriors had discovered the hall, and the human chieftains were finally in her power. Filled with a tremendous sense of inevitable rightful triumph, the Black Magician charged forward to victory.
♦ ♦ ♦
Frey led the charge into the courtyard, looking up to see a fight raging on the battlements.
"Hurry!" he yelled at Heinz. "Clear the battlements! Kill all the ratfolks you find!"
"Right now, Frey," Heinz replied, and ran towards the stairs with the mercenaries behind him. "Follow me, boys!"
Frey glanced at the crowd pouring into the courtyard. They looked fierce, ready to kill anything they saw, and one of them ran after Heinz.
"Where are we going now, cat girl? You know more about these things" Frey wanted to know. "I want to face that wererat spellcaster. My sword thirsts for more blood!"
Good question, Elysia thought, wishing she had an answer. "Think" she urged herself. "Where is the most logical place to go?"
The Black Magician wanted to capture Emilia. From Niccolev, he knew that a grand ball was being held at the palace that night. The most logical place for the duke's daughter to be was the ballroom, that was the answer.
"The dance club!" scream elysia
"Perfect, follow me!" Frey bellowed, his voice conveying the confidence of a hero.
♦ ♦ ♦
Dhalthar paused at the top of the stairs to look out over the great ballroom. He wanted to grant the despicable humans a chance to fully appreciate the tremendous majesty of his conquerors. He wanted to savor that moment of ultimate triumph.
All of his eyes turned to look at him, and he understood that the humans were impressed by his dignity and good looks. That always happened to them. The majesty of a Black Magician inspired equal parts respect and admiration in those who saw it. He looked at the crowd and swept his eyes to see if he could find the prey he had chosen.
In truth, he had hoped that he would be able to identify her by the elaborate nature of her dress and by her crown, but he saw that all the humans present were attired in strange costumes, almost as if intent on deceiving him.
Well, well, Dhalthar thought. "Now you will see that it is not easy to fool a Black Magician." She chose one of the human males who was dressed as a caveman.
"You man-thing! Where is your head breeder bitch? Answer to me! hurry up Hurry!" Dhalthar said in the best human language of his.
"I haven't the foggiest idea what you're talking about, old man" was the reply. Sweat ran down the man's face. Dhalthar blew it away with a burst of raw magical power. The screams of the women filled the air as the naked, blackened skeleton of the victim fell to the ground. Dhalthar selected another victim, a woman dressed as one of the human goddesses.
"You! Tell me where the head breeder bitch is! Reply! Now! Now!" The woman looked at him expressionlessly.
"What is a breeder?" she asked herself, but Dhalthar's response was to cause her to burst with magic as well, and another charred body fell to the ground. Dhalthar selected a man very cunningly disguised as a master ninja of the Furtim Clan.
"You! The chief breeder female! Where?" Dhalthar bellowed.
The man in the master ninja costume turned as his tail flicked remarkably like a real ratfolk.
"No sir! Don't kill me!" he yelled in fluent Ratfolk.
"Remarkable." Dhalthar thought. "A human who speaks our language!" But then he realized that he was not a human but the damned Chang who was hiding among the humans. Dhalthar looked at the master-nin and licked his lips as he thought his blunder had nearly cost him his triumph, and he remembered all the other failures Chang had been responsible for.
"This is perfect." Dhalthar thought. If anyone ever asked him to explain, he could claim that it had been a terrible mistake. He summoned the full power of him, and Chang screamed in the most satisfying way as dark magic consumed his body.
Dhalthar delighted for a brief but exhilarating moment, then chose another human.
"You! Where's the head breeder bitch? Reply! hurry up hurry up Or your miserable life will be over!"
"But I don't know what a breeder is." whimpered the fat man dressed as a huge pink rabbit. Dhalthar shrugged and killed him too. More bones fell to the marble floor.
It began to occur to Dhalthar, even through the fog of impending victory that clouded his mind, that there was something wrong with this strategy. The humans didn't seem to understand very well what he was asking. What could it be? Where did their feeble minds wander? After all, he had asked them about his chief breeder female. Maybe if he asked for her name… he picked out a cowering breeder and pointed a claw at her.
"You! You! Are you the head breeding female Emilia?"
It was obvious that the breeder was too overwhelmed by the majestic marble presence to respond. He blew it up so the others would learn to respond when he asked a question. Next, he selected another male in the hope that he would be a little less foolish than the breeder.
"You… where is the head breeding female Emilia?" The male shook his head defiantly.
"I will never tell you. I have sworn to serve Lady Emilia…"
Dhalthar yawned and released another bolt of magical energy before the human could finish speaking. He hated being cross so much! The specimens he kept in his burrow in the swamps could do the same thing at times, particularly when he took away their broodstock and pups to experiment on. In a way, it was a truly amazing race, but too stupid.
Out of the corner of his eye, Dhalthar caught sight of two Breeders muttering to each other, and he slowly shifted his gaze to them as one of the Breeders stood up and the other walked toward him. He removed his mask to reveal a pale but determined face.
"I think you're looking for me." He stated defiantly. "I am Lady Emilia!"
Dhalthar was almost disappointed. The manastone's energy was still seething within him, and he had enjoyed using it. There was nothing quite as exciting as blowing up lesser beings, except the feeling of exerting power.
"Good! Good!" Dhalthar said. "You will order your troops to surrender immediately and I will spare your lives. If you dont do it…"