The screams formed into a guttural voice as a fell spirit rose up out of the tokens and the shards of the blade. "FINALLLLLLYYY!!! It took you WORMS long enough!!!!
After the howled outburst by the spirit, for a moment the room was silent as the grave, the company all scattered in different directions around the podium the spirit still hovered over like a vulture, the scrolls and tokens used to raise it burning with black flames. At the center of the flowing, malignant vapor of the spirit rested a burning red light, a ring of evil at its very heart.
Cast to the floor, the adventurers felt a discordant vibration still shaking the timbers of this upper floor of the tavern, a frightening echo of the Black Speech having been uttered here in Minas Tirith. Distant shouts and weeping could be heard as the population tried to recover from the horrible effects.
As he slowly pushed himself up off the dusty wooded floor, Hawke realized he was feeling something he had felt before..a rising panic, a strange madness, a hopeless despair and confusion...he felt it in distant Kheledul when he watched Mans' hand fall to the ground...the ring, the ring Sindya....dwarven Ring of Artifice, granny Enthen had told him then. How could this all be happening again (See The Battle of the Spike)?
Nethrida pulled herself fully to her feet, gripping her blade with both hands for comfort. Blood trickled down her forehead from the blast as she spat and tried to step in front of her friends who were still dazed, calling out in rage. "I recognize that voice. It's the same from Calidis' dream (See A Dirge in Red). That orc….and....the dwarf too…the Dourhand. But…how?"
Finchley pulled her hands away from her head and looked up to the fell spirit with wide eyes. She had never seen anything like any of this, but soon enough she spied Addie, beginning to wake, her bleeding and burnt hands clutched close to her body. Finch reached out towards her with one hand while the other went to clutch at her aching left side. "Addie? This is not your father, whatever it is...is it?"
Hearing Finchley and Neth speak, Hawke struggled to stand, pushing up from his knees, and his hand drew the Elven dagger from the sheath at the small of his back. He knew that horrible voice, Nethrida had confirmed what he thought...this was the spirit of that dwarf, mans of Kheledul, reborn. It seemed he had been hiding in that blasted dagger all the time. He knew that he had wounded the enemy once before with this very blade, cutting both his hand and that foul ring off his twisted little body. He would't let that little monster hurt Finch, or attack Lethril again…even if he had to die all over again.
The Fell Spirit looked down at Hawke, its hollow eyes burning with cold fire..."AHHHH....the drowned prince. I have longed for this reunion. I feared my vengeance would be stolen from me by your ill-luck and the endless sea, but I am pleased to see you here, with no mother to protect you...in fact I am pleased to see all of you...yet there are some I do not know. Fear not, I shall destroy you as well, in due time, out of courtesy....”
The creature laughed, gloating. “For now, it is enough that you see that Mans of Kheledul, as you know me, cannot be contained by something as petty as death, never before and not now. Thanks to the long, hard efforts of that Rohan slattern my new plans may finally begin at the bidding of my Master.”
The form of the creature was gaining more substance as he drew power from their surroundings, the scattered moans and howls of wayward spirits he was consuming echoed along with the screams of pained innocents. “However, first I have leave to deal with more..shall we say, PERSONAL matters. You will all regret ever crossing me, beginning with the Stranded Sisters....however first I have a special gift for my benefactor, the apple of her father’s eye.” Mans laughed again, the sound chilling as Addie cried out in renewed anguish, having regained enough of herself to understand the fiend’s words were meant for her.
Addiela blinked away the images of severed heads that had filled her mind when the screaming started, only to now be staring at the fell spirit she had helped to free. She rose up to her knees in disbelief, her mind now free to see clearly as the months of delusions had melted away, the ring Sindya was busy with other matters. "No... no! It can't be! I couldn't have..!" Tears began to stream down her cheeks and she folded over until her forehead was on the floor, mere inches away from the base of the pedestal. "Father! No!" Addie's tears were now blinding her from anything else around her as deluded hope of seeing her father again was torn away, exposed as just a lie of the enemy…a lie that had made her do something unspeakable.
Xanderian pulled herself up, her eye flaring with rage as she drew Lovelorn. "MANS!!!! How dare you do this...what new deviltry is this? Do what you will..we killed you once.. twice...and we shall do so again. Your argument is with me…with Xandilif…then face US and let us end this twisted game once and for all! I am not afraid of you, dwarf!”
Nethrida had drawn her sword as well, standing unsteadily shoulder to shoulder with Xanderian. She pointed the great sword at the spirit yet made no effort to attack, knowing the worst course would be to strike before they were ready. She remembered well in Kheledul how Mans had manipulated and tricked his foes. "I was there at Kheledul when we last bested you. And I'll be there to best you again when you have the courage to face us in earnest"
On Xanderian’s other shoulder stood Eduwiges, her sword Baedu Druit in her hands like magic. She scoffed at Xan and Neth's threats, preferring action and lunged directly at Mans, striking at where the shade floated. Like Nethrida, she remembered Mans' foul games in her mind at Kheledul and was giving him no chance to fool her again. As always she put her faith in steel and steel alone.
Hawke wanted nothing more than to strike at the spirit like Eduwiges, but he instead carefully skirted the room until he was at Addiela's side, where he crouched protectively between her and Mans. He knew well his greatest strengths lay in stealth and the unexpected, let the warriors hold Mans’ attention for now. Despite all Addie had done, he would defend her, and he was prepared to enter battle despite the heavy gloom poisoning his spirit.
Finchley seemed to be of the same mind as Hawk and followed after him, ignoring how her left side felt. She knelt down next to Addie and wrapped her arms about her, keeping an eye on both Hawk and that spirit, her features a mix of fear and perhaps a little anger. She whispered softly to Addie, trying to sooth the woman as she wept like a bereft child.
The newcomer Arrothiel finally was able to think clearly, stunned by all that had happened. Her bow still drawn, she took out three arrows from her quiver and released them in quick succession, aiming for the head of the spirit. "Davo annin gi leithiad."
Eduwiges blade struck true, but passed through the spirit cleanly, causing the tall woman to stagger to the far side. The spirit seemed to feel the blow...as he felt the three arrows through the head in a tight group by Arrothiel, however there seemed to be no lasting effect.
The vague shape of a head snapped to Arrothiel. "I know well the Lost Horsemistress and her pitiful, mewling nature...but you I know not. Drop your bow and I will spare you from my lingering vengeance for I do not feel you in the hearts of the Stranded sisters. Slaying you would not hurt them, so you are beneath my notice at this moment. As for now, my new host awaits, the reward well earned by Addiela of Rohan, my oh so willing tool..." The Shade turned towards Addie and moved, yet suddenly drew up short, apparently confounded by Finch and Hawke in his way....he hesitated...as if confused.
Addiela wasn’t trying to shake Finch's embrace off, perhaps she was comforted somewhat by the woman’s soft words or perhaps she didn’t even register it in the moment. Her whole body shuddered as she continued to weep, apparently not aware of her peril from the shade, her head rocking along the cool floor as she cried out. "Father I am sorry! I was a fool! Forgive me... forgive me!"
Nethrida lowered her sword and scowled as the shade hesitated. "Give in. Twice now we've bested you, and this time will be no different."
Eduwiges moved back to be closer to Nethrida and Xanderian, her greatsword poised to strike again. “To Ruin!” she cried and was prepared to rush again when a gauntleted hand fell on her shoulder.
Xandilif stood beside her, her face a grim, waxy shade of pale, her eye dark with rage. “Not yet, greyhound…not yet. This battle won’t be won here, and listen to the screams, whatever this bastard is doing it is playing hell with the White City around us. A full out donnybrook here would play into his hands. We need to get this piece of ogre shite to leave Minas Tirith before more innocent people get hurt, even if we die doing it. This is our fault, he is our problem.”
Eduwiges nodded grimly, accepting her mentor's logic, and waited.
Hawke had switched his dagger to his left hand and drew his sword as he faced off against the shade. "Keep a hold on her, Finch, no matter what," he directed, never taking his eyes off the foul apparition. He remained stalwart, shielding both Addie and Finch with his body. He knew now that Mans intended to take a host since just as on the docks of Kheledul, the monster talked too much. "You want Addie, you will have to go through me first," he challenged.
Hawke knew Mans' weakness was that the fell spirit did not count on the strong bonds between this group of misfits. They were willing to protect Addie, knowing full well she had never meant to be a pawn or release their enemy. Hearing the Banshee’s words he nodded to himself. This was all their faults…and their problem.
Finchley reached down and pulled Addie up into her lap, gently as she was able, so she didn’t injure herself further. She pulled the woman closer and whispered soothingly, "It's okay. It's okay, Addie." She looked up at the spirit and fixed him with a rare glare. Whatever it decided to do, it would find that her will was not and never had been weak. She had no intentions of letting that thing at Addie.
Arrothiel seemed to process the words of the spirit then came to a conclusion rather quickly. She spun to the right to get a clear shot, and prepared to fire another triplet of arrows, this time towards the weeping woman, clearly thinking to eliminate the shade’s intended host at any cost, saying 'Govano in nothrim în adh i mellyn în mi Mannos.' Yet as she spoke, the spirit lashed out, knocking her aside, the arrows embedding in the wooden ceiling.
The spirit whirled in frustration, glaring at the opposition around it as it seemed to gather itself to strike at Hawke and Finchley.
Xandilif stepped past Eduwiges and Nethrida, SilverWand held above her head, parallel to the ground, then slowly drew it around in a precise arc, finally holding it upright before her eyes. As the blade cut through the sulfurous air, the miasma of evil that filled the room seemed to ease as the power of the ancient sword took control, forcing Mans’ aura back.
Xanderian looked concerned beside her, gripping her own sword. "Xandilif....are you sure?"
Ignoring her sister, Xandilif spoke, however the words were not in Westron or Sindarin, but in the tongue of the sunken Halls of Numenor, Adunaic. The words echoed with power and SilverWand glowed like a star before her eyes. “Leave this place, monster. You are not fit to sully the stones of the sons of the brave Edain. Menace not your betters like a bootless servant of a caged master. We will not let you cause more mischief here nor taint any more hearts. Go and prepare as best you can, for we will come for you…WE will come…wielding the Stalwart Faith of Andúnië and the Defiance of Amandil”
As she spoke the white glow of SilverWand seemed to light the blades of Nethrida and Eduwiges as well, like a flame being passed from candle to candle. It danced over Lovelorn in Xanderian’s hands and lit the javelin of the Lady Ahmo as she stood resolute, finally recovered from the Black Speech. At last, the glow flared brilliantly in the silver dagger Hawke held out, the dagger that had stopped Mans once before.
The shade recoiled from SilverWand, then from Hawke’s dagger, seeming to be trapped in the circle of light with nowhere to turn. With a cry of rage a burst of deadly power roared out of the shade, knocking everyone back a step even as the glowing blades seemed to catch and dissipate the force.
The spirit snarled away from Hawke and Addie before finally spinning on Xandilif. "So the Broken Sister finds her voice and seeks to lecture me...ME! How many more must you and your tragic sister see doomed into dust? Clearly a few more! So be it...you will rue this day, you acolytes of a lost hope, and all you spawns of mongrel races...you will all rue this day!!!'
And with a blinding flare of red light...the spirit was gone and the silver glow slowly dissipated. The sound of many feet running up the stairs echoed as an armored Knight of Minas Tirith shouldered the door open with the crack of splintering wood, soon replaced by the familiar scowl of Gareth, Captain of the Hounds of Anarion.
“What…what by the horde of Ancalagon goes on here!!!” shouted the Knight, taking charge as below the cries of the pained and wounded still rose in the aftermath..
Over Gareth’s shoulder, the barkeep Emery surveyed the room with dismay. “You maniacs...do you know how much this flooring COST ME!!!????'
