Red Magic

"I don't want to die," Wynter said softly.

"Don't worry," the druid replied. Galvin knew he could stay awake for another day if he had to, but he wanted an excuse to abandon the wraiths, even if only temporarily.

"Well, I guess we don't have much choice, Bre

"Point us in the right direction," Bre

Galvin knelt to examine the tracks more closely in the dim light from the torches along the city walls and the scant light spilling from the tower's windows. He ran his fingertips along a particularly deep imprint of a boot, then glanced at the guards along the city wall. From their numbers, he guessed that many of them must have shifted position from the north and south walls to crowd the west wall nearest Maligor's tower.

Maybe someone should tell them the undead aren't going to attack the city, he thought. It would be nice if at least someone could get some rest.

He rose, brushed the dirt off his knees, and smiled at Bre

"When we do catch up with them, we're in for a fight." He knelt and drew Bre

Galvin considered approaching an Amruthar guard to get an estimate of the number of gnolls. However, he worried that he would be peppered with arrows as soon as he neared the wall. The information would do him little good anyway, he realized in the end. It really didn't matter how many gnolls were involved. Galvin, Bre

Resigned, the druid rose, turned his back on the tower, and strode toward his stallion. "Let's move," he told Bre

"Not just yet." Bre

Galvin weighed Bre

"Out of our way!" Galvin shouted, knowing the stupid creatures couldn't understand the words but hoping they would comprehend his intent.

Bre

Galvin unsheathed his longsword and advanced. The gnolls paused, eyeing the glowing blade, then screamed as a black cloud descended upon them. The wraiths, appearing as a fog with ghostly arms and legs, laughed eerily and slashed at the gnolls' faces.

Deep, black gashes appeared, and blood flowed freely down the bodies of the terrified gnolls. The dog-men thrust at the blackness with their spears, but the crude weapons passed through the undead harmlessly.

"Stop!" Galvin demanded, ru

Bre

"Back away!" the druid yelled as he slashed upward with his enchanted blade, slicing a black limb from a hovering wraith. The undead being emitted a piercing shriek and fell backward behind its undead brethren.

"I said stop!" Galvin shouted once more. "Back off, or you'll have to fight me, too!"

"We could steal your lowly life, human," growled a wraith that moved to hover inches from Galvin's face. Its hot white eyes bore into the druid. "We could bring you death with one touch."

"Then try it!" Galvin shouted, thrusting upward and driving his blade between the wraith's glowing eyes. The creature screamed and dissipated like thi

"Mortal fool!" another wraith howled, its haunting tone drifted toward Bre

"Never!" The druid refused to cower before Szass Tam's minions. He realized that backing down meant giving in to the undead, inviting them to overwhelm him, Bre

The wraiths laughed mockingly, their hollow voices reverberating off the tower wall, but they retreated nevertheless.

Bre

Galvin pointed the tip of his longsword at the dog-men, then swept it to the side, pointing west, toward the escarpment. "Move!" he barked. "Move or I'll kill you!"

The gnolls didn't comprehend the words, but they understood the druid's meaning. They fled the tower, ru

The druid took a deep breath, sheathed his sword, and watched their retreating forms to make sure the wraiths didn't give chase. Galvin hadn't wanted to kill the gnolls, and he wanted to keep the undead from doing so even more. No being deserved to be turned into a wraith.

With half a dozen long steps, he reached the large tower doors and yanked on the handles. The iron-bound wood remained unyielding, even after he rammed his shoulder against it several times. Frustrated, Galvin shoved the enchanted blade between the two doors and pushed.

"That won't work either," Bre

"Wonderful." The druid slumped against the door.

Bre

"Success!" she said, beaming. The doors swung slowly inward, moving silently on ancient hinges. In front of them lay a hallway bathed in the light of dozens of thick candles. Suddenly guards, both humans and gnolls, began to pour from rooms off the hall and moved to attack. All were armored, and their plates of metal clanged noisily as they swarmed forward in a wave.

Galvin leapt in front of the sorceress and deftly parried the swing of one burly guard. The massive man wielded a claymoor, a great sword that took two hands to heft. When the guard lifted the sword above his head for another attack, the druid quickly thrust his own enchanted sword forward. The blade sliced through the man's abdomen, sinking in up to the hilt.

Galvin brought his right leg up and lodged it against the dying man's waist, then pushed, sliding the man off his sword and into the advancing second rank of guards, knocking several down. The druid pressed his attack, cleaving his blade into the neck of a fallen gnoll who was starting to rise.