Day 2:

Maapu gazed first rays of the sun that peeked through the cracks in the spires before bursting forth with blinding brilliance. In the sudden brightness illuminating the pass, only mangled corpses and blood-stained ground greeted Maapu.

At a distance a flock of carrion birds circled, waiting for the feast of another day to fill their bellies.

Maapu, himself, had forgone any weapon and instead, sported a cestus. Not a crude one assembled in the midst of a fight but rather one more prepared and made to suit his hard knuckles. The hardened cestus of black metal promised a new edge to every punch delivered. It added an element of lethality to Maapu's fist, making his blow deadlier and more shattering than before. There was a singular purpose to his newly acquired weapon. To help him continue -- through the day, to survive.

Maapu kept his pace steady. Determination and despair marched beside him.

"When do you intend to show?" He screamed aloud to no answer to come. The silence troubled his soul.

He took two strong strides. Skulls littered his path, crushed and crushed again.

"Perhaps, this would convince." He turned to his goblin sappers, and with his wrist dismissed them. Maapu was alone. "How about it now? I am alone. Face me."

Maapu's throat pulsated with silent breathing waiting for a response.

No one answered his challenge. Not even the ghosts of those slain the previous day appeared. Maapu paced onwards and found more corpses in his path. Yet, there were no living or beasts in sight. His advance was unopposed by the skeletal remains.

Just piles of bones. It felt as if death, itself, surrounded him. Every step he took passed him closer to the maw of darkness.

His muscles stiffened and his ears perked, as the sound of bones cracking with each step slowly announced an invading presence. And out of the malleable darkness, Raslian Goblinpelt stepped out.

Since their last interrupted fight, if Maapu had climbed a spire, the minotaur warrior Raslian Goblinpelt had conquered a mountain. Wielding a stone-melting grin on his face, he stepped before Maapu. The morning light glistened from the hilt of his greatsword strapped to his back. A variety of odd fetish and arcane runes were etched on the handle, proclaiming his recent ascent in strength, and the seven sets of emerald gems inlaid on his horns shone brightly against the violent red of his horns.

Throwing his head, Raslian laughed, like a hunter pleased with himself. With the laugh, all arcane rune etches on his skin pulsated with extraplanar energies alien to the very realm -- a sign of his contract, binding to the demonic realm. Mortal life exchange for promises delivered.

"Today we end an unfinished duel." Even Raslian voice was a chorus of demonic whispers.

"You look pathetic," replied Maapu. "How does it feel Bull man, to let magic violate your skin, all to gain power that you could not attain by your own will?"

"The gift of my Lord One-horned Warlord is not to be mocked," snorted Raslian and with his anger, the entropic force of distortion billowed mystically arcing winds around him. His demonically tinged eyes glowed yellow in rage. "To ridicule the effort and blessing bestowed by Lord Warlord...You mock all that is venerable! You will find it that death itself would deny its mercy upon you today."

Maapu's baleful eyes lingered on his towering oppoenent for a brief moment. "The future king of goblins needs no assistance from demons to boost his strength. I will take what is rightfully mine with my own will and strength."

Raslian stiffened at those words. The words stuck him like the freshly injected venom of a viper. He strode forward and struck Maapu's chest. Or rather where Maapu would have been but the hobgoblin dodged with ophidian celerity. Only empty air greeted the minotaur's fist.

"I must give credit where it is due..." taunted Maapu, noticing the sheer frustration displayed on Raslian's face for a blinding instant. "Those borrowed powers...no...the morsel that the demons threw your direction did improve your prowess."

For the next several moments, Maapu waited for a reaction from Raslian.

The attack that Maapu expected finally came. With full exuberance, Raslian sprang at him and him, a powerful attempt to strike a might blow. But it proved to be too late. Despite the minotaur warrior's initial advantage of surprise, time and luck bent and swayed to Maapu's favour.

Dodging low, Maapu closed the gap, gaining the first strike. Metal-clad fist met rock-like abdominal muscles.

Purple runes flared on the minotaur where Maapu's strike met. Instead of a scream of pain, Raslian only let out another malicious laugh and at his voice shadows gathered towards him, shrouding him, enveloping him, protecting him.

Huffing indignantly, Raslain grabbed his huge greatsword, liberating it from its confines.

Instinctively Maapu rolled the first slash. He flipped again to avoid the second follow-up attack. The range of the greatsword and the size of the minotaur added a disadvantage to the hobgoblin. Soon, Maapu was forced into the defensive, dodging repeated swings and lethal cuts.

It did not matter how many times Maapu ducked and swerved. The attacks were unrelenting.

Raslian continued chaining one powerful attack after another with the swing of his sword, accentuated by the demonic influence and his bestial frenzy.

Sweat poured down Maapu's brow, almost trickling down his neck in a stream. With every heartbeat, he was met with the parched feeling of sheer defeat. Yet, not even for a fraction of a moment did he relent. His hands held the grip of his cestus, tighter and sturdier, preparing for a counter any moment, should the opportunity present itself.

But that never happened.

Sensing the futility of his approach, Maapu finally, managed to block on slashing blow and gathering sufficient momentum, hit a counter blow with a force to knock Raslian off balance. Yet, the shadows shrouding the minotaur held his balance.

Dark tendrils of demonic shadows poured forth from the minotaur, slithering towards Maapu.

With deft steps Maapu rolled backwards, backflipping a few paces away.

"Damn, your infernal demon magic." Maapu cursed and rolled again, placing sufficient distance between himself and his opponent.

"These simple whinings of yours will not deliver you from the inevitable fate," scoffed Raslian Goblinpelt. "By insulting my Lord you have forfeited everything." Even though a wide grin was drawn across his face, his eyes gleamed wilder than ever. The demonic engraving etched into his body radiated eldrich energy, billowing tiny coils of otherworld's origin to engulf Maapu.

Maapu struggled with all his strength. Grunts and curses were uttered in equal measure as he tried to roll away.

Yet, despite his loss, Maapu did not lose his nerve. Gathering enough force from rolling, he pivoted his knee on the ground, stooping low to gather a handful of dirt, and spinning with clockwork precision, he aimed the dirt at the minotaurs burning eyes.

"Petty trick," taunted Raslian Goblinpelt behind the veneer of shadows protecting him.

Instead of disappointment, a wild grin framed Maapu's face. The hobgoblin rushed, placing a more distance between himself and the minotaur. And then, Maapu started pelting Raslian Goblinpelt with stones and pebbles.

Protected by shadows and swirling coils of eldritch energy, Raslian Goblinpelt appeared unharmed, but the action of Maapu brought irritation to his face. "Get serious." The minotaur bellowed. "This is a warrior's duel. I will not endure a coward's mockery."

"Bull man, you think your shadows protect you?" teased Maapu. "Don't you see that you have lost?"

"You haven't killed me. You cannot kill me," replied Raslian Goblinpelt. "I still challenge you. Keep you running."

A vivid clarity of fresh morning sunshine beamed on Maapu's face. With a calmness of a serene ocean, he replied. "Bull Man, neither of us can kill each other. I have been fighting the wrong way. I am not duelling you, Bull man. I am defending this pass and you are invading. As long as I stand, the pass is defended. I have won and you have lost."

Maapu's words let loose the warrior's cantrip, igniting the anger in Raslian Goblinpelt.

The minotaur slammed his greatsword on the ground in rage and fury. Leaching cracks spread from the point of impact, only to be received by the vicious mocking laughter of Maapu.

With every laugh, the blow from the enrage minotaur grew in frequency, till the greatsword shattered before the rage of its wielder.

Tossing the broken shard of a weapon aside, Raslain Goblinpelt reached into the primal fighting style famed for his race. He stooped low, neck thrust, horns pointed with deadly efficiency at Maapu and rushed.

With a ferocious bellow, Raslian rushed. His horns met and cracked a rock as Maapu dodged with the deftness of a striking viper. Aiming the tip of his horns, he charged towards Maapu again. In response, Maapu retreated behind the protective cover of a boulder, dancing from boulder to boulder, forcing the enraged minotaur to smash rocks with his head.

Yet, a persistent rain of pebbles bombarded the goring minotaur, enraging him further. Each throw sent by Maapu reverberated in Raslian's head more than the impact of head charge meeting boulders. A buzzing cacophony of ignominious whispers lured him further from rational thoughts. Though injured, Raslian continued with his onslaught.

Eventually, the dark tendrils protecting him and the shadows converging around him, shrunk, wrapping around the minotaur till a will cry erupted from his maw. Pulsing flashes travelled along the gems embedded in his horns, setting shimmering vibrations in the air that converged slowly. With every passing moment, the intensity of the convergence grew till the portal framed into existence and the beings from the other side appeared.

More parts of gleaming armour held by arcane forces strange and unnatural to the realm, flew out. Three of them in total. Each is surrounded by a wreathe of rotating blades.

Deliverance came to Maapu in the form of Talus as he entered the field.

"Merowyn," I barked drawing his attention back to me. "Issue the orders, Dawnmire is lost."

"But, Maapu still has a fighting chance and your son is down there. We have the upper hand."

"Those three are not any demon soldiers sent by a demon sovereign. Those are from the inner circle of hell. The personal legion of the circle princes."

Merowyn's eyes widened and for the first time, I witnessed sheer terror in those deep sunken eyes.

"Each one is more powerful than a demon general." I completed but Merowyn would not leave.

Unable to turn his eyes away from the sight, he asked, "But why would they willingly serve the beckoning a thrall of the One-Horned Warlord?"

"Either there the Cambion Warlord is more powerful than we initially estimate," I answered, "Or he has powerful patrons. The circle princes have directly involved themselves. My best guess, is he has their blessing."

Without no further moment to spare, Merowyn signalled the Viridian Dawn Rangers, the intention to retreat.

Talus met the three floating eldritch armour with a resolved vigour. The spinning blades struck his metallic frame. The uncomfortable sound of a million shrapnels striking metal reverberated across the narrow pass. His fist mate the first assault, followed by spinning kicks. Every blow sent ripples through the arcanely held armours.

Most of the blows and strikes, Talus met head-on. Blocking them with precise moments, and countering in return. Despite being outnumbered and struck with millions of spinning blades, six pairs of limbs wielding an assortment of exotic weapons and the arcane eldritch energies directed in his direction, Talus managed to avoid lethal attacks.

With a combination of deft fallbacks, narrow rushes and quick extraction, Talus used mobility to his advantage.

Maapu soon realised the tide turning in Raslian's favour. His stone pelting might have enraged the minotaur and would have kept him on the defensive for an indefinite period of time, were it not for the involvement of the new allies of Raslian Goblinpelt. Maapu took a moment, to catch his breath and gather his failing thoughts. The hobgoblin wracked his battle-addled mind, to seek an optimal solution.

Eventually, abandoning his pride, he addressed Talus. "Armour Man, would you cleave a path for me?" Chomping his inner cheeks, he added with a struggle, "Please."

Only a single nod came as acknowledgement from Talus. From then on, Talus spun around, taunting his three opponents and rushed towards the minotaur. The dark tendril striking Talus dissipated in wisps of silvery smoke upon contact with his radiance form.

While the three armour-bound demons followed in Talus's wake, Maapu was quicker. In a well-timed roll, the hobgoblin inserted himself between Talus and his pursuers -- in a precarious position, narrowing and avoiding the lethal spinning cloak of blades.

Talus stormed through the mass of striking tendrils and the defensive lattice of eldritch shadows surrounding Raslian, but it was not his alloyed frame that made the first impact on the hulking minotaur warrior but rather the leaping form of Maapu, somersaulting over Talus to land of Raslian's head with a raised fist.

The first punch broke the left horn.

The scream of Raslian Goblinpelt ravaged stone, rock and boulders.

The next two rapid flurries of punches from Maapu shattered the right horn.

With the cleverness that only a hobgoblin can muster for a murderous spree, Maapu grabbed the only two things that Raslian's ward of shadows and dark tendrils would not consider a weapon -- his own two horns.

Adjusting the wraps of his cestus, Maapu fastened the twin horns on his knuckles, creating a pair of makeshift claw knuckles. The bloodthirsty hobgoblin rushed with a calculated frenzy, punching a series of blows on the minotaur.

Tainted dark blood saturated with eldritch magic flowed in voluminous rivulets from the multitude of wounds inflicted by Maapu.

The final end of Raslian Goblinpelt was not dramatic or even epic for the extended rivalry that stood stagnated between Maapu and Raslian Goblinpelt. The final moment passed in a flash. When Maapu retreated, only the bleeding form of Raslian Goblinpelt lay motionlessly on the ground. his life slowly ebbing away.

When death finally claimed the mighty and fallen Raslian Goblinpelt, the real malice of the magic engraved worked it way, releasing potent miasma. In the arcane fog, creatures from the inner plane of hell slowly emerged.

Talus grabbed Maapu and in a rush, exited the soon-to-be infernal pass of Dawnmire.

Despite the valiant effort of Maapu in the end Dawnmire fell before the evening of the second day.

ElenaV

Apologise for the week's delay. Real life and work took precedence.