He staggered along after Alegni, gradually regaining his agile gait. He caught up with the tiefling in sight of the wall, and another fiery explosion ignited just in front of that barrier, showing the dark silhouettes of ducking guardsmen.
“It would seem that our friends have returned,” Alegni muttered to Barrabus and the others who had gathered near him.
“Out by the trees!” one woman on the wall called out. “The zombies have returned!”
“Along with the lich,” said a quieter voice, and Effron appeared then as if materializing out of the shadows. “Valindra Shadowmantle,” he explained.
“How many?” Alegni asked.
“A veritable horde of the zombies,” Effron explained. “And Valindra and Sylora Salm and a handful of Ashmadai.”
“Sylora has come to face me?” Alegni grinned wickedly at that thought. “Does she really believe her magic can withstand the power of Herzgo Alegni?”
“I don’t know she knows who Herzgo Alegni is,” said Effron, drawing a scowl from the tiefling.
Alegni reached into his pouch and produced a gauntlet, black and red, and slid it onto his sword hand. This was Claw’s matching piece, designed to dull magic to protect the wielder of the powerful sword from the weapon’s telepathic intrusions. Alegni preferred not to wear it, for it dulled his mental connection with the magical Claw, and he believed that his closeness with his weapon helped to keep him alive, particularly when the dangerous Barrabus was around.
But the gauntlet also worked to minimize external magic, and the sorceress Sylora would be hard-pressed indeed to truly wound Alegni while he wore such an artifact.
The tiefling looked to Barrabus, his face showing his eagerness for battle.
“It’s a ruse,” the battered and bleeding Barrabus said.
Alegni scowled in reply.
Barrabus shook his head. “They want us to come out after them, to be sure,” he said. He called up to the wall, “Do the zombies approach?”
“At the trees!” came the shout back.
“They’re luring us out there,” Barrabus said to Alegni.
“What do we care?” the tiefling replied. “More likely, they’re trying to lure the feeble citizens of Neverwinter, who wouldn’t be able to win if not for their strong walls. Sylora Salm doesn’t understand the power that’s arrayed against her.”
Neither do you, Barrabus thought, but wisely didn’t say.
“Let’s go and slaughter some zealots,” Alegni called, and he started for the gate, Effron beside him. Barrabus and the handful of Shadovar who had accompanied them to Neverwinter followed in close order.
“Go out to the camp,” Alegni bade Effron. “Tell our warriors to come on in full. Swing them wide of Sylora’s position, so she will not escape.”
Effron nodded and melted back into the shadows.
“I do not wish to send my forces outside our walls,” Jelvus Grinch said to Alegni, hustling to catch up to the tiefling.
“No one asked you,” Alegni snapped back at him. “Stay within and cower. I’ll rid you of this menace.”
The men at the gate worked fast at Alegni’s approach, swinging one of the two doors wide, and Alegni and his entourage went through without fanfare.
“They’ll throw their magic at us all the way,” the tiefling leader explained to his forces. “Do not waver, do not falter.”
He’d barely finished speaking when the ground beneath them rolled suddenly and black tentacles sprang forth, grabbing at their ankles and legs.
Alegni swept them aside with his mighty sword. Barrabus took a different tactic and pulled forth his obsidian figurine, tossing it to the ground at his feet. The statue became a steed, a nightmare, and Barrabus wasted no time in vaulting atop the skeletal horse’s back. Knowing that Effron and the others would come in from the south, his right, Barrabus ran the nightmare off to the left in a wide circuit.
Alegni just kept walking, his foot soldiers in his wake. Claw swept aside the tentacles with ease. When eldritch missiles came soaring out of the tree line at him, the tiefling just held up his gauntleted hand and absorbed the magic with no more than a slight sting, as if he’d caught and crushed a bee.
“Come out, Sylora,” he taunted as he approached the tree line.
Instead of Sylora, Barrabus, riding his nightmare, burst out of the trees, bidding him to turn around.
Alegni looked at his slave curiously for just a moment then realized Barrabus had figured something out.
A ruse.
The umber hulks came through the dirt and cobblestones of Neverwinter as easily as if they moved through water. One burst through the floor of a home, its shoulders pressed tightly against the low ceiling.