Entering the Iron Weald with Druanna had proven to be a blessing; her presence had kept all manner of predators at bay, so that their sojourn had proven blissfully uneventful as they made their way toward a distant Kraken outpost that was her destination.
But even Druanna couldn’t keep every peril away.
“Razor wind,” she said, tone terse as she rose to her feet and began gathering her bedroll and pack. “You know what to do.”
An actual wind was picking up, fitful gusts sending their campfire’s flames to streaming. They had but moments before the situation became lethal, so Scorio ignited and shifted into his scaled form. Despite his bout with Naomi his reservoir was still almost full. He quickly gathered his belongings and stepped behind Druanna, who now stood staring south into the oncoming winds.
Naomi hissed in irritation as she hurried to stand behind him in turn. She’d expended too much of her reservoir during their bout, and would have to ignite at the last moment.
They wedged their travel gear between their legs and leaned into the storm. Druanna stood braced against the strong gusts that were buffeting them now without surcease, and then her ebon eidolon was there, massive and looming.
He’d seen it a handful of times by this point, but its otherworldly power and menace never ceased to awe him.
The construct rose some six yards in height. Its body was made of smooth, polished jet, utterly black except where blue light seemed to reflect off its curvature. Six arms spread out about it, each clutching a scimitar as long as Scorio was tall, and even in the frigid air of the canyon it gave off an unnatural chill, vapor sizzling off its skin.
The eidolon lowered itself into a crouch before them, and arranged its arms and blades into an interwoven barrier.
“Hold off on your Shrouds,” called Druanna, pitching her voice to carry over the now screaming winds. “Wait till my signal!”
Scorio fought the urge to lean out to the side and peer past the eidolon into the howling darkness. Instead, he reached behind to gather Naomi’s frail human form against his back, and waited.
The fire was now little more than flaring coals. Detritus and pebbles were streaming by, dust and chunks of ever larger rocks.
But they weren’t the threat.
They’d faced two razor winds before. Once on their very first day, the second a week after. Each had sprung up without warning, turning the canyon’s still and oppressive silence to curdled fury in moments.
If it hadn’t been for Druanna’s calm leadership and experience, Scorio was pretty sure they’d have died on the first day.
The wind was strong enough now to tear their fireplace apart. The rocks began to jostle, then slide, then lifted off the ground to disappear into the gloom, taking the blazing chunks of iron ore with it.
Scorio turned to watch the large embers dwindle into sparks as they hurtled away into the darkness.
Something flew by overhead so quickly that the air whined with its passage.
It had begun.
Another shape sped by, and Scorio caught an intimation of something long and angular spinning end over end.
Then a clang as the first piece of iron impacted the eidolon and bounced off it.
“Here we go,” cried out Druanna. “Take the left, Scorio! I’ll protect the right.”
Scorio channeled Iron mana and summoned his Shroud, placing it to the left of the eidolon so that its right rim overlapped with the great statue’s arms. It immediately lit up as it received its first blow, then a second and third.
Soon the air was thrumming with razor-sharp pieces of twisted metal as they shrieked by, flying overhead, alongside, and impacting the eidolon full on in a furious storm of clangs and crashes. Metal ricocheted off the statute without end, and Scorio’s Shroud was permanently lit as it deflected the storm of metal.
Druanna had been shocked when she’d seen how advanced his Shroud had become. Over the course of the two years in the Crucible, he’d worked on it tirelessly, his life depending on his ability to both burn the Gold mana that flowed into him, with his Shroud growing as a result, till it was now far more advanced than anything a Flame Vault should have been able to summon. Dense and broad, it was a protective marvel, capable of shrugging off even blows from Druanna’s blades.
The razor wind was unrelenting. Every passing second saw scores of blows strike Scorio’s Shroud. He soon found himself straining to pour Iron mana into its form without losing his scaled body. Worse, with the Iron mana streaming past like a deluge of molten metal, his Delightful Secret Marinating technique was hampered by the increased difficulty in harvesting mana.
Druanna’s Shroud covered their right flank. It, too, was brightly lit by the unending fury of the razor wind.
“Naomi,” gasped Scorio. “Cover me!”
And his Shroud failed.
Naomi’s Heart ignited, and her Shroud popped into existence where his had been. It was half the size and delicate in comparison, but she kept it close to the indestructible eidolon.
“Die already,” snarled Druanna at the storm.
But the hail of blades continued to blast past them.
With a cry, Druanna’s Shroud failed, and the air immediately to their right came alive with spinning, slashing blades of rusted metal that flashed by almost too quickly to spot.
Naomi pressed in tight against Scorio’s back, who resisted in turn the urge to crowd in behind Druanna. The eidolon was an impressive bulwark against the storm, but the blades flew chaotically through the air, not following straight lines from south to north but instead bouncing off each other, a maelstrom of whirling death.
Chaotic enough that without their flanking Shrouds they were at risk, even pressed in close behind the eidolon’s back.
Scorio clenched his teeth as the first shard of rusted iron bounced off his scaled form. His Gold-tempered body meant that he could take the brunt of the impacts without too much damage, but he spun around and wrapped his arms protectively around Naomi’s slender form, bowing over her as he sought to protect her from the storm.
Which rose to a furious pitch. The air was mauled continuously by the whining, howling shards. Naomi and he bowed their heads together, and as soon as he could, Scorio summoned his Shroud again, placing it once more on their left.
Five more minutes passed in this fashion. Some of the blows were sufficiently powerful, the pieces of metal large enough that they split Scorio’s scales and laid him open with wounds.
His Shroud failed, then returned, then failed again.
But just as he was beginning to think this storm would never break, he realized that the furious pitch was beginning to diminish. The intensity rapidly slackened off, and then abruptly the wind fell, a few smaller pieces of metal hurling by, and then all grew still.
Scorio activated his darkvision and straightened, allowing his scaled form to fall away. He bled from numerous lacerations, and his shoulders burned from where he’d taken deeper wounds.
The eidolon rose to its full height then disappeared.
Druanna sighed and blew a lock of black hair away from her handsome features. “I loathe the Iron Weald.”
Naomi released her Nightmare Lady form and slumped down into a crouch. “It’s a joy.”
“That one lasted twice as long as the others,” said Scorio, twisting to gaze north after the storm. “Any reason?”
“Not that I know of.” Druanna moved over to the sooty spot where their fire had been. “Just the delights of hell.”
“Is it worth building the fire again?” asked Naomi, unable to mask the hope in her voice. She had to be exhausted to display such desire.
“No, I’m afraid not.” Druanna sighed and gazed around the flat canyon floor. “The storm will have scoured everything out of its path, and the fiends will have gone to ground. Nothing will bother us till dawn. We may as well just sleep until it lightens.”