“Ahh, yes,”
Calin replied, then winced in pain, his hand going to his side as his face
tightened with effort. He stayed that
way, breathing through clenched teeth slowly.
Two long lines of tears streamed down his face, but he made no other
sound. At last he opened his eyes and
relaxed. “The reason I’m here at all,
instead of lying out there. They were so
damned fast, strong, relentless. I’ve
never seen anything like it. I don’t
know how they got in the Caverns, or why the alarm wasn’t sounded sooner. I suspect some treachery, though I can hardly
think it of any of the brethren that I helped train. Yet, it seemed they were among us before we
even knew. The main entrance was taken
immediately, and I thought we would see other forces pouring through the
corridors, that the daemons had been used as shock troops and screaming Vik
would follow. But it was just daemons,
and they were enough.”
He looked from
Orion to Ramuh, and back, then nodded his head once.
“There is much
too tell. Too much,” he gave a slight
groan, but the pain went quickly. “I’ll
give you what I can, as time permits. We
could only make imperfect stands, half-formed shield walls, and half-used
defenses that they tore through like paper.
I was forced back here, split from the other masters, and cut off from
any reinforcements that might be had.
But here I felt we would finally hold.
I watched as they shattered the door, tore the portcullis from its
moorings. Then they were among us. We fought them, and held them. I was damned proud of those that stood with
me in the shield wall. Adepts and
aspirants, they were, but not one of them took a step backward when the daemons
came screaming and the blood flowed. Not
one so much as swayed in the line. They
knew their duty.”
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