Sarlene's Touch Ch. 37

Then she saw, with a flood of relief, Vardala running into the room, ducking low behind Calleslyn and heading straight for her own position. Her shortsword was out, and she used it hack at the bonds of the magical net. Unfortunately, the strands seemed to be highly resistant to being cut. But that had obviously not been the case before...

"My sword's on the table," she hissed to the gnome, pointing with her free arm, "if you get me that, I can take him down."

Vardala nodded, grabbing the larger sword and passing it over. The blade was much sharper than the rogue's shortsword, a magical weapon that she found hacked through her bonds with ease.

Even as she stood, Sashjant was casting another spell at Calleslyn, a blast of sickly green light that knocked the elf to the floor, her ward sputtering and vanishing before the onslaught.

"Oh, I do so despise physical combat," growled the demon, his voice a surprisingly mellow purr given his bestial appearance, "but I really must make an exception."

"Try this!" Shouted Tarissa, standing behind him, her sword raised. The demon turned, claws outstretched and teeth bared, just as she plunged the blade into his chest, the words of a prayer on her lips.

She infused the weapon with her divine power, calling down the wrath of the gods on the being before her. Golden-white light ran along the metal edge like lightning, blasting into the demon's furry torso. Sashjant screamed, a yowling, inhuman cry, as black blood gushed up around the blade.

No normal weapon could harm him, perhaps, but this was a magic sword, and one, moreover, that was infused with the paladin's holy power. She yanked it upwards, slicing through his ribcage as his clawed hands raked feebly at the air.

Then he fell, sliding off the blade, more blood pumping out of his ruined chest to spread across the flagging beneath his body. His mouth moved once, but no sound came out, and then he went limp, tongue lolling, dark eyes glazing over.

"Is everyone all right?" she asked, panting as she stood over the corpse, eyeing it carefully to make absolutely sure there was no ruse.

"I'm going to need... healing," gasped Calleslyn, "that was just in time. That last spell of his... not a good one."

She looked over to see Rupinder cradling Kara in her arms. The redhead was sobbing now, tears running down her face, clinging to the other woman for comfort. The spell was ended, and Sashjant's hold over the women gone for good.

"Are we too late?" Almandar had entered the room, accompanied by the barbarian woman, who looked more collected than Kara had. Perhaps she was more stoic, or perhaps the half-elf had managed to cast the spell to free her a short while ago, and she had recovered herself since. As Rupinder apparently had, the paladin supposed.

"He's dead. This is over," the paladin said simply.

The barbarian woman rushed to the other two members of the harem, wrapping them in her arms. They seemed to need each other's comfort at the moment, and Tarissa was certainly not going to deny them that.

"Good," said Almandar, "he was a monster in every sense."

"He deserved it," said Tarissa. It wasn't something she often said, but there was no doubt in her mind today.

"Uh..." said Vardala, looking around, "does anyone know where Dolrim is?"